#unfortunately. guess what most land food is.

[rxttenfish]

you know. one thing that i don't think i'll be including in caecilian, even though it's almost certainly happening and kinda funny to me, is the fact that aaravi would be having SUCH a bad time after having eaten nothing but meat for a week straight. the most plants merfolk eat are basically derived algae broths and the equivalent of the seaweed wrapping on sushi. they have no grains. they have no fruits. they have no vegetables. they only have meat. it's just meat. aaravi would get out of the merkingdom with horrible gastric distress and for the next month she eats healthier than she has ever eaten before in her life. she would weep at the taste of a carrot.

meanwhile, even just the little bit that aaravi and bellanda get miranda to eat during the visit would be making her feel SO much better. even if she gets just a little bit of blubber, that alone would help her perk up so much.

[a-twistedheartslonging]

In your nonhuman AU, would the humans at NRC have to be scared of their beastie classmates legitimately trying to eat them? I imagine being smaller and more defenseless would make them easy targets. Also, could you elaborate on your prior statements about humans being sort of a status symbol due to being rare?

Making threats of eating those related to an animal lower one the food chain than one's self is common, but actually killing/eating someone is very much not legal, plenty still have that animal urge to take a bite out of someone and you look particularly nice to bite to many. But unless you meet, like, a serial killer you're mostly fine, humans are still considered people, though many still have it hard.

Still, someone having done it is harder proof and more common in places in the coral sea, the mers have their own culture and way of doing things. Who's to say a regular shark didn't do it? People going missing or getting eaten by a dangerous sea creature isn't uncommon there. There's always someone going missing during the mer version of Halloween, like the twins said. As a result, you would be in more danger in water than on land unless you make friends with something more dangerous.

Now the status symbol thing?

Humans in particular are very few, the beasts were always better suited for living in wonderland, particularly the humans without magic didn't have much of a chance, especially in wars like what happened with the valley. Over time their numbers kept dwindling.

Now, it's common for higher class families to want to hire beasts of more rare breeds to work for them since it's another way to show off status as a result. To have someone so rarely seen, they become valuable, simply because people decided that it's a big deal to have it. Similar to something hard to get suddenly becoming worth a lot simply because some rich guy decided it was valuable, now everyone else wants it so they can be cool and show off.

Another less nice part is...well, fetishization. Plenty of humans are odd-looking to them but in a pretty/cute way. Those soft faces and softer bodies without claws or fangs to defend themselves, cute round little ears, soft, thin skin with no fur, scales, or feathers to protect it. Such weak instincts and sense could get them killed so easily. Are humans truly weak? Though not as strong as most beasts, no. We of course have always found a way to survive, but it's hard to fight against certain stereotypes and preconceived notions and people will believe what they want.

I guess some look at humans and get that similar urge that we get when we seeing a cute weak little creature and want to keep it and take care of it. Though unfortunately others view it as something they can easily hurt for fun and play with.

Attraction-wise it conflicts with what many look for in a mate since typically you want someone strong to breed with but...humans just have a certain allure. Plus, males of a lot of species, when courting one of their own kind often have to deal with aggression and the possibility of being eaten, it makes sense they would want to go for the less dangerous option, humans.

[writing-for-life]

Would love to see a post about how Destiny is the worst older brother. Not like, actively, but just because he always fulfills his responsibilities and then treats Dream like a baby for having any difficulty with his. And he also visits the parents and doesn’t ask them for anything. Maybe you’ve already done so!

We also have a serious take/meta now…

Oh you know, I totally think he is the worst brother, older or otherwise 🤣

Getting kind of cozy with the Fates in SoM and calling in that family meeting? Check.

Being the one who both saves but also somewhat dooms Dream several times over (and of course he’s NOT doing either because he’s just… Destiny)? Check.

I mean, do we know what would have happened if he had left Dream in that black hole in Overture instead of going, “Erm, actually, you dropped something in my garden, can you sort out your mess?” That looks so typically older brother who pulls up the little brother to sort out his shit, and then we’re made to believe, “Well, but he was helpful in a way, wasn’t he?” Yes, he was, but someone also had to help setting up that stable loop from which there would be no escape, right? The one where Dream had to be actively pulled out of some shit to land him in it even deeper (of course for the greater good, yeah yeah, we get it). And who better to do that than Daddy Time’s favourite boy Destiny, right?

Wondering how the father/son meetings between Destiny and Time go. I mean, they’re hardly ever happening, because our boy is not annoying. Not as annoying as Dream anyway (but then again, Dream is the one with the mummy-issues, the daddy issues are just the cherry on top). Destiny will probably just check in for that half hour visit every couple of billion years, and Time will go, “Alright son?” And Destiny will be like, “Yup, never better.” “Want a coffee or something?” “Nah, need to run.” Quick awkward nod, done. And Time will have more fuel to go, “See Dream [I can literally hear the contempt in my head], your brother never asks for anything. Not even a coffee.” And Dream will go, “But but… I didn’t want mum’s food either. I didn’t even ask, man, she just tried to force it on me.” <insert mild sob> And all Time will say is, “Don’t call me man, son! Bit more respect, please…”

Or Destiny’s, “I’m your big brother, be sensible”-speech in Brief Lives. Where we all go, “Wow, he actually advises him. Sorta. The way he can. Tells him stuff. Gets rebuffed by Dream, so it’s his own fault really.” But then he turns round and goes, “Yeah, but that most important question, the one about how to find Destruction—sorry mate, we all know I know how, but you’re still on your own and need to ask that oracle. Crap it’s your son, eh? Sorry, I abide by my rules and responsibilities. Shit, do I recognise this somehow? Never mind…” And when Dream goes, “Nope, I don’t want to do this,” Destiny says, “Atta boy, finally you’re being sensible, well done. Knew you’d get there in the end.” And then Del steps in, tells Destiny off for always doing everything by the book (d’uh!) but unfortunately also gets Dream back on his feet, and Destiny just turns round, shrugs his shoulders and inwardly goes, “Guess I tried, huh?”

They’re a funny bunch.

Also, the real dilemma is they have ongoing beef about a coffee spill on a dream record, but that’s info Dream only shares with his therapist…

[If we wanted to be serious about it for a sec: I’d love to see more people exploring how we always talk about Desire as the main antagonist but sort of never about the others. When they are all fairly good at putting the final nails into Dream’s proverbial coffin by mere being their function (when Desire is the one who actively disengages when the shit hits the fan). Never mind, always getting carried away with that one 🙈]

@hyperboreancomics ask answered

[katiemay-025]

Sympathizer

~~~~~

summary: you’re a capitol citizen and grew up in the luxury of it so when a certain charming victor starts popping up way more often than you want, a confrontation turns her whole world view upside down.

wc: 4k

warnings: mdni, use of y/n, prostitution and sex work, angst, I think that’s it? Let me know if I missed anything.

~~~~~

Victors were a touchy subject for you. While everyone talked about the new victor like celebrity gossip, you kept quiet. You kept quiet mostly because if you opened your mouth, people would quickly realize that you did not like the victors. Seeing them like us bridged the gap of the lesser. The more they were welcomed to extravagant parties, the more people forgot they were from the Districts. These very people descended from the rebels that nearly wiped all of Panem out during the rebellion.

If anything you were weary of the victors, they won their respective hunger games. They were the strongest of the strong. It would be very easy for them to rise up against the Capitol especially if they gained a following. Some were good at that, and others just fell into addictions.

Finnick Odair was the newest victor, winning at a shockingly young age of 14. He was the same age as you and everyone you knew from school girls to grown married woman swooned over him. Some of the boys did too. And worse, was your older sister and mother, who made you gag as they talked about his physique during dinner.

It was nothing new. Every single person around you speculated that Finnick was originally Capitol but kidnapped to the districts and made his way back. You knew better, his distinctly sea-green eyes, bronze skin, and his salt ridden hair with its curls were features from District 4. Regardless of where he was born, he was raised in the districts.

During the 66th games, he peacocked his way around charming more and more of the capitol citizens. He certainly did not talk like a 15 year old, but hey no judgement in his taste of people, you liked older people too. Okay there was a little bit of judgement in this whole endeavor, everyone he was talking to was an adult. You were sick to your stomach that everyone would overlook his age because of his looks and charms. Absolutely disgusting.

None of this should be working because if it escalated, it would be everyone else getting punished not Finnick. You guessed by the way he was preening around, District 4 didn’t teach their kids about any cordial laws. Add that to the long list of reasons why you didn’t like the Districts. Or maybe he knew the rules and just created a line for when he could sleep with them.

You were right, partly. During the 67th and 68th games despite being underaged there were pockets of the sponsor parties and banquets where he would disappear. Girls and woman would come back throughout the day and immediately people would speculate what they had done and who they were with. Most of it landed on the victors but you had also noticed Finnick’s disappearance and reappearance around the same time as some of the woman. Who even goes to a private apartment to play board games. They were definitely sexually intimate. All of your food threatened to come back up at that realization.

A few days later when the woman was in tears, it brought you joy. What did they expect? That a District man would swear fealty to them? He was 16 for crying out loud, no way he was looking to settle down. Finnick Odair would sleep around with the Capitol citizens and leave them in the dust for another hot thing to play with. It would never be love. Joe could they all be so stupid?

If you could, you would never be at these events, you’d much rather stay at home and read a book. Unfortunately, things don’t always turn out the way you want them to. Your sister brought you to these things for her benefit and you were forced to tag along.

The consultation was that you’d get pretty good food and catering at these things. You’d grab a few plates and slowly make your way to an empty balcony. Eating with the company of sky line. It was too bright for stars to twinkle in the sky. Though Venus would keep you company for a few hours after the sun set. The victors knew not to talk to you. You weren’t going to spend your money on anyone from the Districts.

So here, at the beginning of the 69th games and the pregame party, you found your place on the third floor balcony. Technically it was off limits but no one checked past the second floor which is covered in peacekeepers, though it was easy to sneak past them. Only this time, when you pushed the door open, you saw someone standing there in your spot.

You recognized the dirty blond hair immediately. It was wild but natural. Few people had their hair color the same as when they were born. Most of them dyed it. No matter where you went, it seemed like he was following you. His head turned part way to identify who had just walked in with his peripheral vision.

You kept your eyes on him, boring a hole into his neck. If he was going to try to charm you into bed, you were ready to turn around and leave. Finnick didn’t speak and neither did you. He just turned back to the skyline in silence. Seeing as he wasn’t going to leave, you found your way to the cement railing on the far left and ate your food.

When your feet got tired, you pushed yourself up on the ledge and laid on it. The ledge was wide enough for you to lay down and have room to roll onto your side. You stayed on your back feeling the wind dancing with your dress.

You could feel a pair of eyes stare you down. Sure enough when you opened them, you were met with green eyes against your brown ones. Finnick had his eyebrow perked towards you with his hand hesitantly on the ledge next to you. “You don’t need to worry.” You said.

You grabbed his glass cup and threw it over the ledge. Finnick scrambled to get it but was much too slow. There was a small zap and the it bounced back, trailing the same arc. You caught the glass before handing it back to him.

“Oh.”

With that small interaction, you left without a word. It always starts off as a small interaction and you would not stick around to fall victim to Finnick Odair’s harem. It would have been so nice if that was the last interaction you had with him, but the next day, he was there again in silent company. And again the next day, and the day after that and the day after that.

This year the game dragged on. It had been a week and there were still 10 tributes left. The balcony was a tolerable routine. He’d be there first on the far right and you would take your place on the far left of the balcony eating quietly. Then there was a period of time where you laid on the ledge. You’d lay and Finnick would stay standing. He would leave first and you would stay up there until dawn. It’s what you did anyway when he hadn’t found this place.

You never thought you would miss his company when he didn’t show up the next day. Outside of the male bravado bachelor, he seemed content with the peace, not needing constant attention from a Capitolite.

It was the next day when you got home in the early morning did you figure something was up. You ran into your sister stumbling into the house the same time you did. While you were great at sneaking around, your sister wasn’t. In her blissful state, she made a ruckus going across the hallway.

Your parents ran into the hallway, your dad holding a baseball bat and your mom behind him. You ran your hand down your face as you both had to explain where you were. You held up the book from your bag and said you got carried away reading. They believed you even though you hadn’t read a page of the book at all, mostly because all you ever asked for were books.

Your sister on the other hand was too giddy to keep a secret. “I was with Finnick Odair.” She said. You smaller your head towards her direction. You were silent as your mother cheered and pulled her into her room to talk about it. Your blood boiled and again the next day at the balcony he didn’t show. Meaning your sister was with him.

Old habits die hard. Finnick Odair was always going to be a player. You weren’t really surprised. The door opened early in the morning and you saw Finnick at the door with tears in his eyes when you turned. You couldn’t help but smirk with you back to the railing watching him. He had finally gotten a taste of his own medicine.

“You know, I’m not surprised. One weeks isn’t enough time to change a habit, but of all the people, did it really have to be my sister?”

His green orbs met your brown ones. Finnick stayed quiet as he moved towards you ignoring the glares you were giving him. He stood next to you leaning against it. He looked out to the skyline before saying, “It’s not like I have a choice in who I sleep with.”

“Please.” You jeered. “You’re Finnick Odair you can sleep with anyone.”

“No. I can’t. It’s the Patrons choice to-“

“Patrons? People have to pay you to sleep with you? God that’s so low of you.”

“Not me. I don’t see a dime. It all goes to President Snow.” He croaked. Not trusting his voice, he turned it into a whisper.

“What?” Your eyes widened and your body ran cold.

You see his shoulders visibly lift as if the weight he carried was off now. Finnick cleared his throat as he blocked away his tears. “I was considered desirable after winning The Hunger Games he sold my body. I thought- I thought I could get away with not doing it but I’ve cost him money this past week and he’s not happy with it. He’s going to kill Annie.”

At the mention of her name. Finnick broke down. You never saw him like this. It was like the girls he had ‘left’ in the past bawling their eyes out. This time you felt it, the despair and heartbreak. He had snot falling out of his nose as he buried his face in his hands which was gross but a large difference from everyone else who was in tears. Finnick tried to fight it but he couldn’t. You placed your hand on his shoulder and he collapsed to the floor. You made sure his fall was saved by guiding him to the ground. He gripped at your dress and sobbed into your shoulder.

You watched the red beams of light illuminate the building and the blue sky reveal itself. Finnick had yet stopped crying so you pushed him off your shoulder and slapped him across the face. “Pull yourself together. She’s not dead yet.”

“How do you know?”

“Because if Annie is dead, then how will he keep control over you?” You questioned. The realization hit you that President Snow was holding him hostage. From the countless books you read, you knew that when you love someone, you strive to protect them and you’d do anything. This was the same thing. President Snow would be a fool to kill everyone Finnick loved, because he would no longer have the leverage on him.

A calm went over the boy, he looked at you half relief look on his face. Terror washed over him. “He won’t kill her, but that doesn’t mean he won’t torture her.” Tears streamed out of his swollen eyes again. There was quiet mumbling for Annie. So much for pulling yourself together. You thought.

An old lady found her way onto the Balcony and you recognized her as Mags one of the oldest victors. She nodded towards you and pried Finnick off your tear stained shoulder.

The first thing you did was storm home. You found your sister fast asleep in her bed which gave you the opportunity to snoop. Her journal wasn’t much help, it wasn’t mostly the things she did with Finnick. Next was your joint bank account. Your father had given the both of you an allowance during the Hunger Games season. Although you had never spent money during the season, you kept track of the numbers. In the day of the reaping your dad transferred 10,000 dollars to the account making the total 37,257 dollars. With the luxury items, clothings she bought along with the food, you should have 32,007 dollars left but you only had 20,007.

There were two journal entries that described your sister’s intimate nights which meant Finnick’s price was 6000 dollars a night. You scoffed.

You melded into the chair in your sister’s room. When she woke you were already staring her down with your arms crossed. “So, Finnick Odair.”

“What about him?”

“You saw him again last night.”

“Yeah I did.”

“Is he a good kisser at least?”

“Oh he is amazing! He’s charming, handsome and so good in bed!”

“You’re not afraid he’d break your heart?”

“No he won’t. He has a history of it but I’m certain I can really get to him.”

“With what? Money? I know about the transactions.”

You watched her face pale. It confirmed your new disgust towards anyone that’s said they slept with him. Finnick Odair was telling truth. It was as if your worldview crashed and burned. Never in your life would you imagine someone from the Districts being more honorable than the Capitol, hell, your own sibling for crying out loud. He was just a poor boy not much older than you who was forced to be pimped out. Tears welled in your eyes and it got hard to breathe. You pushed it away opting to glare at your older sister.

Now she knew that you knew she essentially paid for her pleasure with him. The guilt would eat anyone alive. “Look I know this looks bad, but I’m making it up to him.” She trudged to her closet and brought out a box of pearl necklaces.

“That necklace is 12,000 dollars?”

“No are you crazy? It’s 5,000 a night for him and the necklace is 2,000. I’m going to use another 5,000 tonight.”

“Bribery?” You disapproved your brows furrowed “That’s sick. Do you think after prostituting him that throwing money at it would suddenly clear your mind of the guilt?” Your sister grabbed at your arm begging you not to leave. She wasn’t the first person to have slept with him and if she was feeling the guilt, then others were too, Especially when he was a minor.

Just like you didn’t want anything to do with the districts, Finnick wouldn’t want anything to deal with the Capitol. They could live with their guilt for all he cared. You gave him props for his morals. At least that part he could control. What was in it for him now that Annie’s life was in danger and all these people were meeting with him not so secretly now that he’s of age. “He’s not going to accept a guilt ridden gift. This dude is consistent.”

“Then what do I do to make him stay with me?”

“How the hell would I know? Go ask him what he thinks is worth all this.” You spoke before leaving her room and storming to your own. Your heart beat painfully in your chest as you placed yourself in Finnick’s shoes. You took slow deep breaths to calm yourself and blinked away your tears.

The next morning Finnick walked onto the balcony after another long night better composed than the last time you saw him. He stood next to you again and you barely noticed him as you were rethinking your entire life. The District 4 victor pulled out a rope to fiddle with, tying and untying knots.

“What did you tell your sister Y/n?” He snapped you out of your catatonic state. Literally, Finnick snapped in front of you to get your attention.

“Basically to find another way to your heart other than guilt ridden gifts.”

“Well, it was genius, making her ask me what I thought was worth that interaction.”

“What did you say she could repay you with?”

You watched the smirk appear on his face as he clasped his hands behind his back. He leaned over, his lips close to your ears. “Secrets.”

“That’s good. The Capitol citizens always have something to gossip about.” You said unblinking.

“Are you okay?”

“Currently rethinking my entire life. Damn it Odair.”

“Yup, this world’s a fucked up place.” Cheering could be heard in the streets followed by Claudius Templesmith announcing the Victor of the 69th Hunger Games. “I have to go.”

“Yeah. You go do what you need to. I’ll be here.” Finnick nodded at your responds before pocketing his rope to leave. You grab at his arm handing him your mobile phone number: an advancement the Capitol had compared to the telephones attached to the wealthy district houses. “Tell me if Annie is okay.”

“Okay.”

Finnick told you Annie was fine and that brought relief to you. That is until the 70th Hunger Games. The female tribute from District 4 was Annie Cresta. As she was 18, no one volunteered for her.

Snow rigged the reaping and he was a moron. You didn’t admit it to Finnick but you hoped Annie died in the arena. Nothing against her but it would save Finnick a lot of trouble. It would save Annie the trouble too. Being crowned the victor was a curse you found out. You had never been in love so it was easier for you to come to that conclusion. You had a whole argument about Annie’s life with Finnick and he chose to sacrifice his autonomy for Annie. Anything and everything for the person he loved most. It was a powerful and tragic love.

You were with him when the gamemakers deployed an earth shattering shake. Cracks ran up the dam in the mountain until it cracked open spewing water out of it. You watched as the entire valley flooded sweeping away any trees rocks and tributes down the hill. Most of them drowned and it came down to a handful of tributes bobbing on the surface trying to keep themselves afloat.

You and Finnick both stood watching the screen intently. You tried stepping on his toes to keep him from falling apart but even that didn’t work. You were in the private tribute quarters in the tribute center and Finnick wailed in Mags arms.

Annie was a great swimmer but after hours of treading and fighting the current even strong swimmers like her was staring to become fatigued. She was bobbing below the surface in a desperate attempt to latch onto something to float. You gave him a long look before heading down to the sponsor party. You said you were never going to waste money on these things but now you poured all you had into it. Your sister wouldn’t be pleased but who cared at this point.

It was late game and the sponsor items were extremely expensive. Most of the other patrons had frozen their donations because the rage of Mother Nature didn’t care about the tributes, ramming them into arena walls, crushing them under debris, choking them in the rapids. It was the worst game you’ve ever seen. The sponsor window had also closed down donations. You slammed the nearly 50,000 in cash in front of him ignoring his word. “Is that enough for a buoy for Annie Cresta?”

“No. A buoy big enough to support someone this late in the game is nearly 10 times that amount.”

“Is there anyway I can lower the price?”

“No there isn’t.”

You sighed turning away. “Unless…” he started. “A pretty thing like you sleeps with me and it’ll be free of charge.”

You glared at the man in the window. He clearly had not been laid in years. Oh god did you hate the capitol right about now. “Fuck it.” You climbed over the window and kissed him hard. You really hoped this wasn’t in vain as you slammed the metal window behind you shut and took off the guy’s clothes. Hang in there just a bit longer Annie.

You panted on the floor of the check out booth as the man punched in the order for Annie’s buoy. A log shot up from the current nearly stabbing Annie on the way. And it couldn’t have happened a moment sooner. She showed signs of giving up. It landed and the girl scrambled to it holding on for dear life. You heard two canons in succession as the other tributes became to fatigued. Annie was announced the victor and you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. You were ecstatic sighing in relief.

Annie was a strong swimmer and probably could have kept going, but you gave her better odds with the wooden log. Finnick almost lost someone he loves while 23 of the other tributes had family waiting for someone who would never come back. 23 kids for 70 years plus another 24 kids were ripped away from their family and friends by the capitol for the sake of entertainment.

“If you tell anyone about this. I’ll kill you.”

“Are you kidding? I’m not telling a soul. If they found out I gave a gift without money I’d be killed.”

“So we agree. We never speak of this again.”

He nods, too full of himself to know you would keep this interaction in your back pocket in case you needed him to send something else.

You head back to the training center and Finnick burst out the double doors in happy tears. He spots you and takes your hand bringing you into the car with him. The two of you went to the hospital and you watched as he went into the room where Annie was.

“Annie.”

“Finnick.”

She flew into his arms and held him tight. Finnick supported Annie while caressing her head. Your heart swelled at the reunion. The District 4 duo would have stayed like that longer if it weren’t for the doctors needing to do a psyche analysis on Annie. Finnick wouldn’t let her out of his site and so he went to.

Finally alone with the gravity of what you did for them rushed back to you. Tears welled in your eyes but any guilt quickly left your body. You did what had to be done to save Annie and by proxy, Finnick. You finally truly understood him. Why he did the things he did for those he cared for, because you cared for him now. While he was here in the Capitol, you’d watch his back.

The rebels were long dead and the districts were collectively punished for actions they didn’t commit. You were wrong no one deserved this. No one deserved being exploited for surviving a brutal traumatic event. You watched two people your age and younger meerkat have their entire life fall apart. It was unfair. Maybe there was a reason for the rebellion in the first place if all this horrible stuff happens because of the Capitol’s existence.

[holylulusworld]

P*ssy pops

Summary: He wanted something sweet.

Pairing: Alpha!Ari Levinson x Omega!Reader

Warnings: adult themed suckers, a/b/o, scenting, mentions of slick, misuse of lollipops :), implied oral (fem rec)

A/N: I rewatched an old episode of Friends. Monica said something to Phoebe about mixing a lollipop and a pregnancy test up...this is how this idea was born...

This story belongs to my Leo & Alpha masterlist. It’s a prequel to the already released parts.

He hates grocery runs. 

Ari Levinson is not used to deciding on which pasta to buy. He’s the kind of man who decides if someone will live another day.

Unfortunately, he can’t live off gunpowder and Scotch. The alpha just ran out of groceries, and no one was willing to go on a grocery run for him. At least not his right-hand man.

It’s his own fault. He fired most of his employees, not trusting any one of them any longer. Now he had to leave his mansion and drive to town to buy food.

“Sir, can I help you?” one of the clerks asks. Ari stared at the pasta for too long and the young man fears the tall alpha is a shoplifter.

“Hmm…no…or yes,” Ari clears his throat. “I’m looking for pasta.” He rolls his eyes. “You already knew that.” He concludes as the boy looks at the shelf filled with pasta. “Can you recommend a sort?”

“Oh, that depends on what are you planning to cook.”

His head snaps toward the soft voice offering help. You smile sweetly as the tall alpha eyes you warily. “Pasta…”

“I got that, Sir,” you wink at Ari. “What do you want to cook? It depends on the sauce. Pairing the right pasta with the right sauce is essential.” You step toward the alpha to get a look at the shelf too. “I’ll go for lasagna this time. What do you prefer?”

“I got no plans, miss. I only wanted to buy noodles,” Ari exasperatedly says. He glances at the pasta in his hands, frowning deeply. “Why do they look like butterflies?”

“These are called farfalle. You serve them with classic tomato sauce or pesto,” you point out. “I like them very much.”

“Huh? Are you a cook or something?”

You giggle. “Kinda,” you look up at Ari, eyes a little glassy. “I sell homemade sweets, cupcakes, and cookies at my store across the street. Why don’t you come around if you find the time?”

He watches you grab a package of lasagna sheets. Ari licks his lips as you brush past him, and your scent surrounds the alpha. “Maybe I’ll find the time.”

“I’d like that,” you wink at him. “But be aware, my sweets are for adults only.” You giggle as his eyes widen a little.

“What does that mean?” he asks the clerk. “Hey, I asked you a question, boy,” Ari grumbles. 

“You shouldn’t buy her stuff,” the clerk whispers. “She sells odd cookies, cakes, and sweets at her store. I would avoid her shop at all costs.”

“Who do you think you are, boy?” Ari grits his teeth and steps closer to the clerk. “My father? I don’t think so. I’ll have a look at her store if I want to.”

Fifteen minutes later Ari steps inside your store. He inhales deeply as a mixture of your scent, strawberries, and freshly baked cookies fills his nostrils.

“OH! You came,” you clasp your hands together. “Welcome to sweets-treats. My store is for adults only. So, don’t bring your kids here.”

“What? Huh…oh…” he inhales sharply as his eyes land on the Les Tétons de Vénus, cookies in the shape of penises, colorful lollipops, and the adult-themed suckers in the shape of a vagina. “What's all this?”

Ari points at the lollipops, smirking as you get one out of the display. “That’s my bestseller. I call them pussy pops.”

“Pussy pops?” he whispers lowly. “Why do you call it that? It looks like a normal lollipop to me.”

“Well,” you round the counter to hand Ari the lollipop. “Have a taste, Sir. If you can guess the secret ingredient, you can have it for free.”

He inhales sharply. Your scent already has him on the edge. If you push him just a little more, he’ll lose control. “Challenge accepted,” he says and takes the lollipop out of your hands.

Ari thrusts the lollipop into his mouth. He licks over it, humming.

“What do you think? I used vanilla this time.”

He suckles at the lollipop, groaning deeply as the secret ingredient fills his senses. It feels like he can taste, smell, and feel it all at once.

You smirk at the alpha, knowing all too well he can taste the secret ingredient.

“Do you like it, alpha?”

He takes the lollipop out of his mouth. Ari growls lowly as you point at the lollipop in his hands. “It tastes like your pussy.”

“You’ve got a skilled tongue, Sir,” you step toward Ari to run your hand over his chest. “Question is, do you want to taste the original?”

>> Snippet 2

Tags in reblog.

[doctorho]

Holy Darkness, pt. 1

hello! my peeps! what's up!!!

it's here! the vampire au! i have no idea how long i'm gonna make this thing, we'll see where the Vibes take us.

this is going to be vampire!Viktor x gender neutral reader multichapter fic

2,3k words, no warnings. i mean, general spooky vibes, but we all know he isn't actually evil okay. i mean the reader doesn't know that. yet. but we know that. right?

(some backstory for this fic idea here and here)

I mean. It’s not like you meant to trespass on the property of the nocturnal hermit living in a rundown abandoned library.

Or maybe you did. A little bit. But that’s not the point. 

The point is that you’re there now, in the quiet darkness, surrounded by the scent of wet leaves and heavy silence; the kind that drips down the back of your neck and tingles as it curls around your spine. 

It had been a perfectly ordinary night, so far. You’d closed up the small bookshop you worked at, quietly getting everything ready for the next day, swept the floors, just like you always did. You’d eaten dinner alone in your small quiet apartment, just like you always did. You’d put out some food for the too-thin stray cat that hung around your street, and wished, bone-deep, that something in your small quiet life would change.

Just like you always did.

It wasn’t bad, your life. It was actually pretty good, considering. But it was boring. Stagnant. And you just…wanted something more. The town was small and quiet and nothing much ever happened – the most exciting event of your week was usually the gossip you overheard at the weekly book club meetings, which didn’t exactly make you feel better about your own life. A good percentage of the elderly ladies in the book club (or their neighbors) seemed to lead more exciting lives than you did. 

You shouldn’t compare yourself to others, you knew that. But your life was boring, and you spent your days surrounded by books; epic adventures, romances that made your heart melt, countless stories where someone gets thrown into a land straight out of your imagination, fantasies where there’s a whole other world just a breath away from this one– 

It made your own life seem even more boring in comparison. 

And it didn’t exactly help that the only thing this town had going for itself – besides the book club – was that there was an abandoned library that was, allegedly, inhabited by a hermit, who – allegedly – might have been a vampire. 

You weren’t sure how much of that story was true. Yes, there was the abandoned library, condemned to be closed down years ago after some unfortunate water damage and lack of funding to rebuild it. Yes, there seemed to be someone living in there. Sometimes you saw lights on in the windows, things that had moved around as if on their own. Someone seemed to be taking care of the property, too, at least to some extent. 

Yes, no-one ever really saw this person out during daylight hours. 

All anyone knew was that 1) there seemed to be someone living there, 2) the collective guess was that it was a man, probably pretty young, and definitely a loner.

And at some point the collective understanding had also accepted that this man was, allegedly, a vampire.

You weren’t sure you believed that last part. Vampires were, technically, not recognized by science. You’d never met one, that you knew of. But…they were a stable factor in local folklore, and all those stories had to come from somewhere. Right?

And…the longer you stood there, watching the dark building and the dim golden light pouring out from the windows, the more you started to entertain the thought that maybe vampires existed, and maybe this man was one of them. 

He seemed to lead an unusual life, and yeah, maybe he was just a hermit, but…for some reason you couldn’t quite convince yourself of that. No-one just appears out of nowhere and sets up camp in an abandoned building, never to be seen in daylight again.

You’d seen his shadow in the window a few times, passing by. You couldn’t see much of his features, but he was lean, like people had said. You stayed hidden the best you could – this was the first time you’d gotten this close – and just…tried to win this internal fight with yourself about whether you should turn around and go home right now or just get a little bit closer. Just stay a little bit longer. 

(You weren’t sure which side of your brain you were hoping would win).

You knew it was stupid, being there. 

You didn’t know how dangerous this man was, vampire or not. For all you knew he could have been 100% human and still been a murderer or something. 

But you were curious. 

That’s all it boiled down to. 

You didn’t want anything from this man. You just wanted to know. Who he was, what he was doing in there–

and if vampires really existed. 

Maybe you should be blaming all those fantasy books in your shop, but – dammit – you wanted to know if something more than this boring human existence really was out there. It was like an itching in your bones; you wanted to know. Your soul refused to settle, and it got more and more restless the longer you went on with your normal little life.

Besides, the man lived in a library. You had no idea how many books were in there that no-one in this town even remembered anymore. 

You wanted to know. 

That’s what makes you stay. Even when half your brain and most of your blood was constantly telling you that you should go, leave, now. 

You don’t really even have a plan. It’s not like you’re going to just knock and go up to him and say hey, I was wondering, what’s your deal? 

Yeah. You weren’t going to do that. 

What you were planning on doing was just…sort of circling that idea, the possibility of maybe running into him. Walking just on the edge of the property, telling yourself it’s not on purpose. Stopping to see if there’s a light in the windows tonight. That’s it.

It’s not like you were planning on actually going to talk to him. 

So when he’s suddenly standing in front of you, you don’t know what to say. Or do.

He is standing there, all sharp-edged in the shadows, dark and tall and silent, and looking at you with the most intense eyes you’ve ever seen. 

There’s a moment, when you’re just staring at him, where you feel like your heart beats a hollow beat and everything in the night is silent. The shadows seem to twirl around him, though that was probably just your imagination. Probably.

“Is there a reason you’re lingering in the shadows out here?” He asks, his voice a quiet, captivating drawl. 

He seems calm, the kind of stationary bottom-of-the-sea calm that you’d only seen in very intelligent animals before. 

(You try to quiet the part of your brain that tries to substitute ‘animals’ with ‘predators’, and you try your best to keep your breathing even. It takes more effort than it should).

His eyes were golden, deep golden, and that definitely wasn’t usual for…humans. 

And there was something about his features that made you instantly accept that if vampires existed, and this man was one, you wouldn’t be the least bit surprised. 

“No,” you answer, and the word is so light that it feels like a lie as soon as it leaves your lips.

You’re not sure what kind of vampiric powers this man might have, but you’re suddenly worried that he might be able to hear your heartbeat, which was definitely way faster than it should have been. 

“Hm.” He says, still looking at you, as if he was studying you.

You both pretend that he isn’t the reason you’re there. Or, you pretend he isn’t, and he pretends he doesn’t know that. 

You take a deep breath.

“What are the chances you would just go back inside and forget I was ever here?” You ask, trying to sound like you weren’t worried about what the alternative to that might be.

“Very low,” he answers, straight-forward, and then he tilts his head slightly and his eyes trail over you. 

He was still studying you.

“I don’t get many…visitors.” He says, and then he smiles. It’s a small, knowing, stupidly attractive smile, and, god, yeah, the man definitely has small fangs. Christ. Was it like a feature that vampires were attractive to like, lure you in? Was that a thing they did? 

He couldn't read your thoughts, could he?

“So it is not likely that I’ll forget you were ever here, no.” He continues, “but if you want me to, I will go back inside.” He meets your eyes, “if you tell me why you’re really here.”

You swallow. 

Fine, that was reasonable. You were on his property. 

Well. Technically it was still probably the town’s property. But still. In essence it was his now. 

You take a deep breath and try to silence the annoyingly rattling part of your monkey-brain that was still tugging at you to run away, be smart, please-  

The longer you dissect this situation in your brain though, the clearer it becomes. 

Yes, you were currently in a dark secluded space with a stranger. Who might be a vampire.

But…he hadn’t actually done anything to scare you, had he?

He hadn’t threatened you. 

He seemed quite reasonable, actually. 

And if he wanted to hurt you, he could have done that already. Many times over.

But instead, he was out here. Making civil conversation.

Did you really even want him to go back inside?

Wasn’t this why you were here? To find out more about him? 

You swallow, lick your lips, and then meet his eyes. Take a breath. 

“I was curious.”

“About?” He counters, watching you, tilting his head, as if he didn’t already know. 

You furrow your eyes a little bit. Just look at him for a few seconds. He just waits for you to answer, patiently. 

“You.” You finally answer. Hold his gaze.

“Ah.” He says, then nods slowly and smiles again, faintly. “Me.” 

Then, he looks at you again, now with something more purposeful in his eyes. More…interested. “Why?”

You blink. Go through a quick mental check of what your choices were here; you could lie – and say what?

Or you could tell the truth, and see where it took you. 

And – honestly? You were still curious. 

So you shrug with one shoulder, trying your best to seem casual about it. Pretend your heart wasn’t still pounding. 

“I was curious,” You answer, “about the mysterious stranger living in the abandoned library.”

He looks at you. Studies you. Nods slowly. 

"Hm." he says again. "Well, here I am." 

You take a deep breath. 

He shifts his weight. 

"What would you like to know?" He asks, remarkably casually. Like an offering. Or, possibly, a bait.

You take it, whichever one it was.

One way to find out.

"Who are you?" 

You start with the obvious, though you're not really sure what kind of an answer you're hoping for. 

"My name is Viktor." He says, simply, still with the ghost of a smile on his face. 

Nice. A name. Progress. 

Viktor.

That still didn't tell you much about what he was really doing here, but it was a start. 

You offer your own name in return, hoping not to seem rude. Not that he'd do much with your name; it wasn't very likely that you two would become pen pals or something. 

"And you've just…been living in our rundown library?" 

"Yes," he answers, shifting his weight a bit again, and again, looking at you like he was inspecting you. Waiting for something.

"Why?" 

He tilts his head a little. "That is," he says, "not a one-word answer." 

"Most answers aren't." You answer, before you can really think it through. This whole situation was absurd; were you really out here just… having a casual conversation with this cryptid of a man? 

He makes a sound that is… close to a chuckle. More of an exhale, but still. You can hear it loud and clear in the quiet darkness, and that makes it feel like he’s much closer to you than he actually is. Like the small sound fills the air around you.

"That is true." He says after a moment. Then, he takes a breath. Visibly. 

So he wasn't at least entirely undead then. 

"How about we make a deal." he offers, "I'll tell you," he meets your eyes again and smiles a little, "for a price."

"And what might that be?" You ask in return, entertaining the idea, and trying your best to seem casual about it.

His smile widens. "One of those strawberry pies from the bakery, and your favorite book."

You blink. How he knew about the strawberry pies, you weren't sure, but you weren't about to question that now. The answer could have been a lot worse, so you'll take strawberry pie, sure. 

"Do I need to point out that you literally live in a library?" 

He shifts his weight again, leaning more heavily on his cane. "A library that hasn't gotten any new books in years."

You look at him. Really look at him. 

So this alleged-vampire, nocturnal cryptid hermit of a man, had just offered to tell you his life story, in exchange for a pie and a book? 

Yeah, if you were honest with yourself, you were never going to not take that deal. 

"Okay," you tell him, "my place or yours?" 

His lips quirk up a little. "Mine," he answers, "I think that's probably best." Then, he nods slowly and meets your eyes. "It's quiet and peaceful in there."

He smiles, just enough for you to get a glimpse of his teeth again, and it's the most sharp-edged-beautiful thing you've seen in a while.

Something curls around your spine in the darkness, and you're still not sure if it was a bait or an offering that you took.

You're not sure you care.

[mechazushi]

Iharu's Day Out {co-staring Dadka} (A Kn8 short story)

Preamble] So I've got this idea for a series of {what was supposed to be short?! Don't know where all this came from} one-shots about Kaiju n.8 that are all about Kafka interacting with one member from the third Division because we only really see him talking to Reno or Hoshina most of the time and not a lot of the rest of the team gets much more screen time. I don't know how often I will be posting these and they will NOT be in chronological order. The time frame they will be taking place in is after everything is over (Number 9 is dead, Tachikawa base is rebuilt, the public knows about Kaiju n. 8, and the original members of Division Three are back together.)

Notes] Alcohol, implied off screen sex act, minor law breaking, pining IharuxReno, background HoshinaxKafka, implied HaruichixAoi, confession, basic tomfoolery, uncensored swearing.

Summary] Iharu's plans with Reno get derailed when Reno has to leave on a mission just before they have to leave. Depressed and dejected, Iharu heads back to the barracks to drown his sorrows in food... only to have that plan as well get derailed by Kafka.

#########################################

This was the third time in thirty minutes that Furuhashi had changed his outfit. Finally landing on white high tops, black camo jeans, a black leather jacket and a white graphic anime tee. He kept going back and forth on the tee, debating on whether or not it made him look like he was too childish. Iharu spent an extra minute mentally kicking himself for not bringing more casual clothes from home when the base got reopened. Then again, asking Reno out to a movie date was pretty spur of the moment at the time. He caught himself mid thought and placed his hands on either side of the closet that was designated to every member of the Division. "Not a date. Movie night-. It's... a movie night. This is to see if this could lead to a potential date. Yeah, just... focus on that right now."

Knocking him out of his thoughts was a very distinct ringtone. Iharu had spent a lot of time messing around in the settings on his phone and was very proud of himself when it came to the songs he picked for each member of the Third Division. Aoi was the theme song from Cops, Kikoru's was the Nightcore version of Pretty Little Psycho. The one that was playing now was Cold as Ice by Foreigner. A little on the nose, considering who it was attached to, but nonetheless fitting for person who he thought was the coolest guy on the force.

Reno☃] Hey. Can we talk?

Reno☃] Somethings come up.

############################################

"Sure. Sounds fun."

Iharu played Reno's response to this movie night plan over a week ago in his head over and over, taking his chilled and plain response and visualizing it as a bat to beat himself and this unfortunate event the two over them have gotten themselves into.

"Last minute dispatch to the mountains. Sorry Iharu." Reno had said, wanting to give him the bad news in person as he sat on a bench in a locker room and laced up his boots over his tech suit.

"Guess that means you'll be back late then, huh." Iharu leaned against a locker, arms folded and looking into the distance through the doorway. He didn't want Reno to see the disappointment. Not that seeing it would change the situation, just didn't want make Reno feel bad over the fact that, not only is he leaving Iharu behind, but he has to take a rain check on their date movie night- it was supposed to be a movie night, Iharu had to remind himself. He didn't feel like it was fair to take his crush/rival out on the town and call it something so loaded without seeing if the feeling would be returned.

"Yeah. Sorry." Reno picked up his bag and started to walk pass Iharu. "Movie will still be there tomorrow. Right?"

Iharu tried to school his expression into something more optimistic to mask his depression. " Yeah, but I'm in Weapons Training all day tomorrow. Maybe another movie?" He crunched the unnoticed prepaid ticket stubs in his fist and shoved it in the pocket of his jeans. "Mind kicking their monster ass a little harder then normal. For me?" He didn't mean to come across as pleading as he said that, but it helped channel the last bit of resentment at the situation out of his head so now he can spend the rest of the allotted time off to sulk in his bunk.

Reno smiled and clasped a hand on Iharu's shoulder. "Sure thing."

Reno walked out of the locker room and headed toward the door that lead to the chopper pad that would whisk him away, as well as Iharu's plan for the three hours that he could squeeze out of Vice-Cap. All Iharu could do was watch as Reno lightly jogged away and feel as if he was doing that to get away from him faster. He knew that Reno liked him as a friend at least, but he felt that Reno could act a little less chill about being forcefully blown off a dinner and a movie. Iharu turned and started walking toward the canteen with the intention to take as much food and drink he could smuggle out to his bunk, make a Blanket Fort of Solitude*tm and attempt to stuff his dashed feeling under a quarter pound of katsudon, cheese puffs and soda popsicles-made in prison style.

Iharu was dragged from his thoughts by a loud, friendly, and familier voice. "OYE! Iharu! Wait a sec!"

Kafka Hibino came barreling down the hallway having turned a corner and apparently looking lost. The man was almost out of breath by the time he managed to catch up to Iharu. "Have you seen Reno around? I -huff- wanted to tell him safe travels before he -huff- left."

"He's heading down to the heli-pad now. Book it and you might catch him." Iharu said apathetically, scratching his neck. Which was really out of character for him, but he couldn't help hoping that was the end of the conversation, seeing that he just wanted to spend his three hours of time off drowning in food.

"Great! Thanks! Hey, you headed to the canteen?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Give me a minute and I'll meet you there. Want to talk to you about something." Kafka took off running in the direction that Iharu pointed in before Iharu could refuse. He sighed deeply and started his way back to a journey to food-comaville; population one.

Iharu made it during a lull in orders and took his time deciding what to pig out on. He walked over to a seat at a table that was as far as he could make it from the others in the large and sparsely populated room. He managed to plow through 4 chicken kievs and a large bowl of rice with a coke before Kafka managed to walk into the lunchroom. He searched for a bit, found Iharu and started to walk to him... before deciding better and grabbed a Hamburg steak meal and then headed over.

"Well, I didn't get to tell him goodbye, but he did get to see me waving from the platform, so there's that. I feel better." Kafka sat down next to Iharu and assembled his steak to his preference.

"I'm glad." Iharu said sarcastically, "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Your attitude, actually." Kafka said, then took a big bite of smothered chopped steak. Iharu partially choked mid-sip, Quickly recovering to stare down the senior with barely concealed audacity. Kafka saw and chuckled a bit around the food in his mouth.

"Nothing serious! Saw you were looking a little down in the dumps when I talked to ya. Just wanted to check in, make sure its nothing pressing, though I'll understand if you're not open for conversation at the moment."

"What are you, a counselor?" Iharu said defiantly. Kafka put his hands up in surrender before diving back into his meal.

"Say the word and I'll leave. If its not anything Reno said, I'll leave you to your moping."

Hearing Reno's name and the implication that he might of said something caused Iharu to curl up slightly, not bothering to hide the change in expression that very much told Kafka that Reno definitely said something. The pinkette paused for a minute before responding "What makes you think he did?"

Kafka smiled a warm, knowing smile, put down his fork, and swallowed. "Because I know Reno. He is extremely chill most of the time, but sometimes he can't tell that his coolness... can unintentionally burn others. Especially when you don't tell him outright." He turned to a slumped Iharu before continuing, " He told me that you two were going to watch a movie together tonight, right? He seemed excited about it.... in his own little way."

Iharu pushed his food away from him and dug his face in his crossed arms. 'Of course Reno would tell the division's Father Figure.' In admitting defeat, Iharu sighed and turned his head to face the half kaiju man.

"It wasn't just going to be a movie. There was going to be food too. There's a food stall festival a block from the movie theater that was selling some really good smelling food and it was the last day for it to be around and I had thought maybe we could take a shortcut through that really pretty shrine afterword- the one that lights up all those paper lanterns when sunset hits- and I had planned to pay for all the food and there was going to be gifts a-a-and-" He sat up to dig up the crumpled ticket stubs from his pockets and rudely threw them on the table, "And I had even PREPAID THE TICKETS AND.....haa. I just...... I wanted a nice evening with him. I knew three hours were rushing things but it was all Hoshina could let us take today."

Kafka picked up the stubs and straighten them out with the edge of the table. "And it absolutely would of been had it not been for a sudden arrival of 5.6 mole kaijus, huh." Iharu tucked his head back into his arms.

"Yeah, fucking mole kaiju. The least they could do was let me come with, but noooo! Everyone seems to think that I'm only relevant to Reno if he's wearing his stupid super suit."

'"If it makes you feel better. Reno likes having you around inside and outside the suit. Definitely enjoys the push-n-pull thing you two have going on." Iharu haphazardly wiped his nose on his leave as he looked to Kafka again.

"Doesn't matter anymore though, does it. He's not here and there's no sense going to the theater with two tickets and only showing up by yourself." Kafka scratched his ever present 5'o-clock shadow as he contemplated for a moment.

"Could ask around. I'm pretty sure Aoi hasn't taken any hours off in a while. Or maybe Shinomiya? She might be into cowboys verses bio-mech-monsters." Iharu tilted his head up hearing Kafka describe the movie.

"You've seen Ranger Rika against the Metal Mess of South Bend?"

"Just the trailers for it. Tokusatsu style, right? Watched a bunch of those as a kid. Somehow managed to pirate a few movies onto a mp.3 player when I was younger. Got me through a lot of bunker-hunkering in my middle school years."

Iharu laughed, "An mp.3 player? God you are old. And when was sitting in a kaiju shelter called 'Bunker-hunkering'?" Kafka reached over and playfully shook the younger compatriot by his shoulders.

"MP.3S ARE NOT THAT OLD! MINE STILL WORKS AND I STILL USE IT, YOU ASSHAT!" Hearing this only caused both of them to split themselves into fits of laughter. A moment later Kafka was lightly hugging Iharu and trying (and failing) to slow his heart and breathing while Iharu was wiping away tears and giggling. The shark-toothed teen looked up at the division's adopted father figure contemplatively.

"Ya know.... why don't you come with me." Kafka looked a little taken aback at that offer.

"Really? With me? I mean, I'm not going to turn down a free movie. Just thought that you young folk would rather run around with... well, people of similar age." Iharu started laughing again.

"What, so you finally decided you're old now?"

"Well, there's no hiding the fact that I'm damn near forty." Kafka said as he rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, but you're cool and forty. Which is like, guaranteed cool. And you're probably the only person here that would enjoy a movie of this explosive caliber." Iharu got up from his seat and picked up the tickets, offering one to Kafka. He smiled massively and pushed the offering had back toward Iharu.

"Hold on to them for now. I gotta talk to Hoshina about taking some hours away from base first. Tell you what, grab a bag of snacks to take in and I'll meet you by the garage."

"Bag of snacks? Ya know the theater sells them there, right?" Furuhashi said walking side by side with Hibino as they wandered back into the hallway.

"Excuse you, but I have been raised on the philosophy that you never buy theater snacks when you can sneak in your own. The theft of it all makes them taste better." Kafka winked as the two of them parted ways. "Should only take a minute or two. Text when you hit the garage!"

############################################

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO?" Kafka said calmly as he adopted a wide defensive stance against is superior.

"I get you can be simple some days, but even you should know what that word means." replied Soshiro Hoshina, the vice captain of the Third Division. The man carefully put down the log book that contained the recorded hours of all enlisted that each individual was allotted to spend.

"What I mean is, do you mean no as in 'You still have chores or training left', or no as in 'I can't afford to have you leave base today'." Kafka breathed slowly through his nose in irritation as he emphasized each scenario.

"No as in 'You have no hours left to spend.' You used them all." Hoshina turned the catalog to face Kafka as the burly man planted his hands on the desk. All he could do was sigh at his unforeseen short comings.

"Honestly, I wanna talk to whoever came up with the policy that cut half of our vacation days and replaced them with this 'Payable Recreational Hours' bullshit. You seriously can't fudge the rules even a little bit?"

"Trust me Kafka, I wasn't the one who opted for that either. And as Vice Captain and currently the highest ranking on base, 'Fudging the rules' as you put it, would be a terrible move and give me a soft reputation. So, no."

Kafka shrunk his appearance and pulled out his big doe eyes to aid in his pleading. "But this is important! Hoshina, please. Its not even about me, this is for Iharu's sake."

Hoshina's interest piqued exasperatedly upon hearing that. "Oh? And pray tell, what could be so pressing that you have to emergency call off three hours for?" Kafka started to sense that this was the first slip into a bad situation and immediately back peddled.

"If it helps, I guess I could get away with an hour and a half?" he shrugged.

"So what was the other two and a half hours going to be spent on?" Hoshina said, leaning back in his office chair and crossing his arms.

Kafka knew he couldn't lie to someone so close to him, especially when that person was adept at seeing through his lies specifically. "Just, uh... food and... travel?"

This isn't helped by the fact the man can't even get away with half truths in the first place. Hoshina leaned his elbows on the desk as he stared down menacingly at the resident Kaiju Man.

"Kafka. The whole truth now, and I'll let you off with janitorial duty for a week." All Kafka could do was unclench his body and accept defeat.

"Ok. Iharu had prepaid some movie tickets to a Ranger Rika film and we both felt it would be a waste not to use them and the plan had involved a food stall festival and Reno was supposed to be there-!" Upon remembering what Iharu's initial plan was, Kafka was struck with an idea. "Hey that could work."

'What" Hoshina said in a clearly vexed manner.

"Why not give me Reno's hours? They both called off right? And since he had to leave, doesn't that technically mean that there's hours left on the table?" Kafka's brilliant smile was quickly diminishing as his superior kept staring a hole through his skull.

"First off, that's rude." Hoshina said holding up a hand to count on, "Second, that's got to be a violation somewhere. And Three, even if it wasn't, I still wouldn't allow it."

"What, you want me to see if Iharu will hand both the tickets over and we both go?" Hoshina just pinched his nose bridge at that and sighed.

"No, Kafka. I'm irritated that you're trying to weasel your way into blowing off duty for street food and movie tickets."

"But they're prepaid movie tickets!" Kafka sighed. He could only hang his head in despair as he could see his impromptu plans slipping away from him. "Is there nothing that could change your mind?"

"No. Not when I'm this irritated." Hoshina said as he went back to crossing his arms.

'Irritated, huh?' Kafka rolled his partner's choice of words in his head, before coming up with a horrible idea and using it to fuel a devilish course of action.

"Well, then. I guess I'll just have to break out the big gun." Kafka whispered as he smirked. He rounded Hoshina's sturdy desk, a fact the two of them had certainly proved time and time again, and now Kafka was going to have to certify that statement one more time, it seems.

"Kafka?" Hoshina questioned as his work buddy visible stopped acting like his associate and donned his more... submissive side. Starting with turning the chair to face him, Kafka got down on his knees in front of his commanding officer and slowly slid a hand under the left pant leg to lightly tease his superior's ankle.

"Guess i'll have to help with that irritation before I leave, won't I?" Hibino said, still wearing a cocky, lopsided grin as he brought the other hand just under Hoshina's knee.

'Kafka, no." Hoshina gritted out, bringing his hands to the arm rests and firmly gripped them.

"Kafka, yes." replied the kneeling man as he kissed his secret lover's knee.

"Kafka, if you think I'm going to give you your requested hour and a half-"

"Three hours."

"You're not going to get any hours if you keep this up."

"Come on. We both know that's not true, Soshiro." Kafka said, looking up from his kiss to the knee and molding his throat into his other voice. The one where he isolates a partial transformation around his vocal cords, adding a low growl to his already bass tone. Taking extra care with using Hoshina's first name, Kafka leaned forward and caressed his cheek against the side of Soshiro's inner thigh, letting in a wicked light in behind his glossy eyes.

"We both know I get what I want if I work hard enough for it."

Kafka began to tease the inside of Soshiro's thighs, littering them with light and slow kisses. Switching back and forth between the two, inching close, but not close enough. Hoshina felt rooted to the seat, pinned down by this tormenting display. All he could do was reach over and place a hand in Kafka's surprisingly soft tufts of hair. He carded it through a little before gripping it. Not enough to hurt, but definitely attention getting. Kafka let out a hot puff of air against his commander's hip, reveling in the feeling of Soshiro's short nails digging into his tough scalp.

"Give me a good performance, and we'll discuss what I'll let you get away with." Hoshina said, mentally kicking himself for not training his pet to be on a shorter leash.

############################################

"Come onnn. Where is he?" Iharu whined, shifting one strap of the back pack off one shoulder to the other as he was on his way to Hoshina's office. "How long does it take to call off a few hours?"

Furuhashi had made it to the door of the office just in time to see Hibino walk out in an entirely different outfit than the work jumpsuit he was in earlier.

"You know, with that much work, I should get a thank you as a courtesy!" Kafka said with the biggest shit eating grin one could have on their face. This statement was quickly followed with him slamming the door closed before he could be hit with whatever Hoshina tried to throw at him. All Kafka could do in response was giggle uncontrollably before stopping in his tracks at Iharu's sudden appearance.

"When did you get here?"

"I sent you a text that I was at the garage and you didn't respond. I waited, like, 9 minutes before I wondered where you were and now I just have more questions. Like, did you change in Hoshina's office? Why was he throwing shit at you? Thank you for what?" Kafka's face got visible red as he tried to find a way to change the subject and instead, opted to grab Iharu's upper arm and drag him harshly back toward the direction the garage was in.

"Ask no questions, and I'll tell no lies. Better news, I just got us a lot more than three hours."

"Can I ask HOW?"

"Maybe later. Got the snacks?" Iharu wrenched his arm out of Kafka's grasp to slip the simple, black, mini back pack off his shoulders to show the contents to his impromptu partner for the night.

"Yeah, got some drinks too. Had to break into Kikoru locker to get a less conspicuous bag to put them in, though."

"Good idea. You know where the theater is?" Kafka said, picking up the pace a little more the closer they got to the getaway vehicles. Iharu had no problem matching his pace, but was getting increasingly worried as to why they were acting like they were in a hurry. The movie didn't start for another forty five minutes.

"Yes, its close by so I don't know whY weRE RUNNING?"

"Cause not only do I want to catch the pre-showing, we really, really should leave before Hoshina saw what I put down in the time log sheet."

"WHAT DID YOU DO?" HIbino got to the heavy security door and opened the entry to the covered garage where most members of the defense force kept their personal vehicles.

"Nothing I'm going to regret later. Here, take this." He said as Iharu walked through the door and tossed him a suspicious set of keys. Iharu caught them and examined them quickly.

"Are these... Hoshina's keys? The one to his supercharged bike? You know I have my own bike, right?"

"Yeah, but when you think about it, his bike's bigger and I can't drive one, so I'm going to have to ride pillion. And trust me, you're going to want that extra bit of room."

As the two of them jogged to the Vice Captain's super bike, all Iharu could think that this wasn't going to be a simple movie night anymore.

###########################################

The two of them had made it into the theater with plenty of time to spare and minimal suspicion. They turned in their stubs and walked inside the air conditioned room that was showing the Ranger Rika film. There, Kafka was met with a surprise.

"Holy shit! You prepaid seats to a show that had in-house recliners?" Kafka walked by in awe and they made their way to one of the seats closer to the front. "Surprised you didn't pick seats closer to the back. Kinda bougie place to bring 'just a friend' don't ya think?" Kafka winked at Iharu as they settled down into their reserved seats.

"I don't ever want to hear the word bougie out of your mouth ever again. And I felt like paying extra for the reclining seats, that ok with you?" Iharu said defensively.

"Fine, fine. Just wondering why you felt the need to score brownie points with Reno, is all. He'd be happy just getting off base with you, being an easy guy like that." Kafka started to root around in Iharu's stolen bag for the drinks he mentioned earlier.

"This isn't point scoring! I just... I wanted to- what I'm trying to say is... give me that." The furious looking teen grabbed the glass coke bottle out of the older man's offering hand. Kafka looked on warmly at Iharu, piecing together some dots in his head. Not enough to make a solid conclusion, but his previous levels of mopiness started to make sense. Hibino brought the sealed bottle to his mouth and cracked the metal pop top off with his teeth.

"You know that they make these twist off now, right? That has to fuck up your teeth something awful." Iharu stated as he began to twist off his own bottle before the movie really started. At least he was trying to, and apparently failing miserably due to the sharp edges on the bottle cap digging into his hands uncomfortably. Kafka took the bottle from his hands and proceeded to open the bottle like he did before and handed it back.

"Again, I am not that old. Don't ruin my one piece of happiness in my life."

"Opening bottles... with your teeth?" Iharu replied, pushing the button that reclined the seat back and brought the foot rest up.

"Old habit from childhood that I've managed to keep because Monster Sweepers has a surprisingly great dental plan. Now hush, previews are starting." Kafka said as the lights began to dim in the room.

############################################

"Holy shit! That movie was amazing!" Iharu said as they left the theater doors and landed on the sidewalk.

"Yeah, that was a great movie. Was a lot more emotional then I was expecting." Kafka mentioned as he squatted low and stretched a leg out to the side.

"You weren't kidding! That plot twist that Missy Whisky was a plant based robo-zoid horse and the scene where she was dying and her body fueled a new oasis got me actually crying! I never cry!" Kafka could only look up at Iharu incredulously, knowing that the younger soldier cried at anything involving animals; sometimes even about Kaijus.

"I think my favorite shot of the whole thing was at the end when Ranger Rika was in a lawn chair with a beer, sitting in that new oasis and we get to see that Missy Whisky was ok, she was just a metal skeleton now." Kafka said as he stood back up and stretched his back.

"Yeah, he deserved that beer, honestly. My favorite scene was when Rika had to jerry rig a new leg and ended up making that burst shot rocket leg. When I heard Golem explain the concept, I thought it sounded so stupid! Whats the point in putting a rocket in your leg if it can only fire off in short burst? Then it trails into the scene in the canyon where he has to fight the Centa-Snake and he was keeping up on foot! Certified Ultimate Badass moment this year!" Iharu started to walk away, following the flow of the crowd so as to not interrupt it too much. Spurring Kafka to hurry up and follow him as well. The two of them walked far enough down the street to where they could walk side by side more comfortably.

As they walked farther away from the theater, it became clear that Iharu was still basking in the warm afterglow of a good memory made. He was still chattering about all the details of the movie, even going into the depths of character analysis and how it showed through in the clothing the characters were wearing. It was very clear he was dying to watch this someone as his mouth seemed to be going a mile a minute with no signs of stopping. Kafka kept up as best he could with the conversation, adding what he could to the conversation. If he was being honest though, he didn't really see as much in the movie as Iharu apparently did. It seemed Iharu noticed as well as he started to slow down his talking speed, becoming more quiet as they went along.

"You good?" Kafka said, noticing the small, slight drop in demeanor.

"Yeah, Im...I'll be fine. I think. I got to see the movie today, which is what I wanted." Iharu stated, visible not looking as fine as he tried to say he was. It was clear to Kafka that it wasn't the possibility that Iharu might of not watched the movie that got him feeling down. I seemed that he still couldn't get Reno not being here off his mind. Kafka felt it was a bit early to press the matter, seeing they got out of a good movie and didn't feel like spoiling the once good mood with questions, so he decided to try and redirect Iharu's train of thought to something more pressing.

"We are walking in the right direction for the festival, right?" Iharu looked up at the older man, redirection of thoughts successful.

"Oh yeah, Food! That was a thing wasn't it? Uhhh...." Iharu said, stopping to process their current location. "Yeah, one more block and a right and we should be there."

"I remember that you said you found it because you... smelled it?" Kafka said quizzically.

"Oh, yeah. There was an attack early last week two streets down and I wanted to stop by when I smelled it. Couldn't though, had to check for yoju then head back to base for a report. Couldn't leave for a week and started feeling desperate. It smells really good-!" Iharu stopped dead in his tracks, looking straight across the street.

"What? Is everything Ok?" Kafka said, looking around before landing his eyes at whatever Iharu was looking at. Across the street, in a store window, sat a rack holding a cluster of very unusual looking hats.

"Cowboy hats. Can you believe it?" Iharu said, looking absolutely puzzled as to why they were there. Taking a longer look, the window belonged to what appeared to be a restaurant dedicated to American cuisine. Specifically western style - steaks and big burgers. it looked like the restaurant had conjoined with a kitschy souvenir store. Kafka thought hard for a minute before turning back to Iharu.

"You wanna?" Kafka asked, jabbing a thumb to the store front. Furuhashi looked back with a clearly confused look. "Come on, we just got out of a Cowboy movie. Isn't it customary to get a least one in honor of a good movie?" Kafka playfully punched Iharu in the shoulder as Iharu just shook his head before he responded.

"I have never heard that ever, and I'm a fan of all the Ranger Rika films."

"All I'm hearing is you've got some hat buying to catch up on." Kafka said, committing an act of jaywalking to drag his new friend over to the store.

"We don't need to buy a cowboy hat!" Iharu protested as they hit the sidewalk.

"Fine. Then I'm getting one without you." Kafka retaliated, hand on the store handle.

"OH, no. If I leave you alone in here, you're going to buy me one in a stupid color. Like blue or green." Iharu said, walking into the store before Kafka.

"But I thought you said you didn't want one?" the Half-Kaiju said, throwing a pointed smirk at Iharu.

"I just said I don't trust you, therefore I have to buy one to make sure you don't buy one for me." the pinkette said defiently, studying the hats on the rack. Kafka just chuckled quietly behind him and soon joined him at the rack too, but not before ordering a side of steak fries to go.

Minutes later, the two of them left the store with hats and fries in hand. Kafka bought a black one with a braided rawhide band threaded with turquoise beads and Iharu's was a simple white stetson.

"Kinda surprised you didn't get the pink one." Kafka said, placing his hat on his head.

"I thought about it, but I mean... pink on pink? It might be a bit much." Iharu said, gesturing to his hair. "That and I thought that white hats just looked cooler anyway."

"This decision totally isn't related to Ranger Rika and his outfit design at all, right?" Kafka said, dripping with sarcasm and Iharu fiddled with the chin strap on the stetson.

"Pfft, Of course not! Why would you say such a thing?" Iharu said through a choked chuckle as his ears got a noticeable shade pinker.

###########################################

Short walk later, they had made it to the start of the street where the festival was held. Both sides of a seemingly endless boulevard was lined with lanterns, ramshackle food stalls, and carnival games. The lights gave the whole street the warmest inviting glow that paired with the slowly setting sun and the scent from the cooking food made the entrance all the more enticing. Adding on the visual ebb and flow of the crowd flittering between the brightly advertised stalls truly made the scene before them come alive. All that was needed to become one with the crowd was as simple as stepping inside and it would feel like a whole different reality. Before the duo could, Kafka decided to take a look at the parked sign at the beginning of the boulevard.

"Hey, did you know about this?" Kafka pointed at the sign.

"No. What's it say?"

"It says that the food festival is in collaboration with the local bars on this street. Beer and cocktails are half off." Iharu whistled approvingly at the news.

"God, a beer sound wonderful right now. Haven't had any since Hoshina trashed my stash in the vent." Kafka said, groaning at the distant textural memory of the cool, aggressive liquid sliding down his throat.

"I don't know man. We still gotta head back to work in a couple of hours. Getting drunk tonight that worth it?" Iharu questioned. Kafka choked on his own spit in a suspicious manner for a minute at hearing how long they had left on the outside.

"Speaking of which..." Furuhashi began to eye the old man intensely now, "How many hours did you get out of Vice-Cap?" Kafka made an attempt to clear his throat before answering.

"Yeah, about that...I, uhhh...didn't have any hours left."

"HIBINO."

"Honestly, the whole payable hours thing sounds stupid anyway so when Hoshina wasn't looking I... wrote in our own hours?" Kafka shrugged at a very red Iharu.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'OUR'? HOW MANY?"

"Three... hundred and thirty six." Kafka said quietly. When Iharu didn't respond back, Kafka felt the need to explain himself.

"I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE FUNNY! 336 hours equal out to two weeks so I thought it be like an 'I'm quitting' joke. Ya'know, in retaliation of the stupid new hours rule? Vice Captain wasn't giving me any wiggle room here and you said you were coming to a food festival with Reno and two hours for a food festival is not a lot of time, especially if you want to do it right, and now there's possible booze involved which is another two on top of that and I just think that only getting three hours to spend away from base isn't a lot of time and you really looked disappointed at not being able to go- albeit the original plan involved Reno- but I mean we're here now and..."

Kafka could only sigh at his now clearly flawed line of thought as Iharu put his face in his hands. One one hand, Iharu agreed with him. Three hours wasn't a lot of time and he also hated the new hours ruling. But that short amount of time would of been worth it because he would of been with Reno. But now... Reno wasn't here. He was with Kakfa, a close member of the team that was trying his best to look out for him and cheer him up in light of the disastrous change in his plans. Iharu was here now, without Reno, and was still enjoying himself despite himself. The whole reason for coming was because of Reno, but here he was anyway; feeling guilty because he was having fun without Reno, knowing this was to be for him. Iharu wasn't really angry about the hours that Kafka had managed to cheat out of Vice-Cap. He knew he was going to pay for them as soon as Kafka got involved on this little outing. It just didn't feel right, him about to be having fun with someone who wasn't supposed to be here.

Kafka clasped a gentile hand of Iharu's shoulder.

"Hey. If you're not comfortable with this, we can just grab one or two things and head back early. You can tell him about the prepaid tickets and bring him back a snack. I'm sure he'd appreciate it after fighting in the mountains all afternoon." The older man smiled comfortably down at the distressed teen.

There he went again. The Dad of Division Three. He really knew just how others felt sometimes. Just when it didn't conflict with the mans's own feelings, that is. Kafka could tell that he was stressed about staying here too long and having fun without the one he wanted to be here with, so now he's trying to accommodate by telling him they could leave and bring back a gift that Reno couldn't help but like. Iharu wanted to come here with Reno... but he was here with Kafka. The happiest, most understanding, and most uplifting person to be around. Especially when you're upset, just like he is right now. And you know what, Kafka is here. With him. Right now. He got Iharu to the movies and spared him a day of sulking around the barracks getting fat and feeling sorry for himself. And that should be rewarded.

"You know what? Fuck it. I'm game." Furuhashi said, dropping his hands from his face.

"About what?"

"Getting drunk. I was going to stuff my face with cafeteria food earlier, and now I get to stuff my face with fried street food and alcohol. Honestly? Upgrade."

"Wait a minute? Are you sure about this? I mean, its not like those hours actually count or anything." Kafka said, reeling slightly from Iharu's change in demeanor.

"Hey man, you're the one who wrote in two weeks of hours, and I'm going to use them. Unless someone from base comes down here and carries my plastered ass off the sidewalk, I don't plan on leaving. Besides, didn't you say there's a right way to food festival? Maybe I'd like to know the secret too. Ya' know, for next time." Iharu stared into the sunset over the festival, feeling empowered about his newfound dereliction of duty.

He was upset. About the time constraints, about a lack of Reno in his presence, about not being able to tell him how he felt in a way he had been planning for about a week now, and about a dozen other minor things that had gotten under his skin recently.

None of that matters now. He was here. In good company. And with access to cheap booze. And may the Gods themselves strike him down now, because he wasn't going to let this opportunity go to waste.

Kafka approved this new feeling welling up inside new drinking buddy and sealed the deal by lifting Iharu's hat off his back where it was hanging and placed it on his head. Making his voice gravely and southern, Kafka quoted a line from the movie.

"So... You finally decided to take charge of your own fortune, aye Rika?" Feeling the new weight on his head, Iharu turned to look up at Kafka and saw the brightest, toothiest, most genuine grin he thought that man could fit on his face. Iharu's eyes started to gather tears in accepted pride, but he blinked them away harshly and looked back at Kafka, matching his Kaiju smile with an aggressively mischievous one of his own.

"First things first. Nearest 7/11 location." Kafka said, turning toward the closest convenience store he could see.

"O-Ok? Why?" Iharu questioned, but followed Kafka's lead anyway.

"They carry this wonderful little drink that prevents hangovers. Fantastic shit, truly. Take it from a guy who use to party with a group of people who went on pub crawls every time someone had a birthday, hangovers do not need to be experienced more than necessary." Iharu's eyes lit up at hearing this.

"oh man! You have to have some crazy stories from your college days."

"College? You seriously think I had the attention span to make it in that kind of setting? This was from working in Monster Sweepers. Let me tell you, Tokuda; guy I used to work with, couldn't let go of a scotch bottle to save his life. Which is funny because having one on him is what saved another guy I worked with..."

#########################################

"And that's how my second boss ended up eating his own ring finger, wedding band and all." Kafka said as Iharu finished up the last of a batch of heavily sauced, fried chili shrimp.

"Damn, I didn't know you guys caught so many strays on the job site. Ya'll really need a security detail while you're working or something."

"Yeah, it can get to be a bit much some days. I actually proposed a deal to Haruichi that asked if his dad's company could come up with some Kaiju-fiber t-shirts or arm sleeves. Just *burp* something cheap they could throw together from scraps to help out my old buddies on the job site. Just a little protection or a way to finish the job faster so we're not working so long."

Kafka finished up a can of beer as Iharu checked a notification on his phone. They were leaning against the base of one of the few stone building that were on the street. The two of them had already hit up several food stalls and three bars in between. Currently they were standing off to the right of an ally that led to the last one they were in, having left to get some fresh air.

"Don't see a reason why they couldn't? It's more money for them, isn't it? Hey! it finally downloaded." Iharu said, propping up his phone on a jutted window ledge.

"What did?"

"I downloaded that song that played during the saloon walkabout scene. I thought we could maybe make a TokTic with it." Kafka tossed his empty into a trash can before turning to Iharu.

"TokTic? Oh! Those short video things. Shinomiya is always sending me those. Her attempt to 'Keep me from falling back to the Stone Age'. Prissy brat. Love her! Just... so damn rude some days."

"Well, now here's your chance to show her that you can be relevant." Iharu chuckled, "Alright, here's what I was thinking."

Iharu began to lead Kafka through some easy dance steps and dictated which pattern this was supposed to happen. They ran through the process a few times so Kafka was sure he could do it, even though Iharu reassured him that it doesn't have to be perfect. Iharu pressed record and they started doing a intensely cowboy inspired, feet shuffling based choreography to 'No Diggity' by Blackstreet with their new hats on full display.

They wrapped it up with them moonwalking off screen. Furuhashi then quickly ran back to grab the phone. They ducked back into the ally to get out of the way of the rippling crowd as the phone's owner began messing with the video's settings and cropped the beginning and end to make it feel cleaner. Hibino whistled as he looked over Iharu's shoulder as his fingers flew over the screen with what seemed to be practiced efficiency.

"You've made a few of these?" Kafka asked.

"Yeah.", Iharu said sheepishly, "I had this account back when I was in Subjugation School. It kinda started as something I messed with in my down time between classes, making edits of shows and movies I was really into at the time, and then it just sorta turned into a daily routine showcase-turned-ask blog. Soon after it started to pick up followers, especially after I got to join Division Three." He began to show one of his latest edits that he made to Kafka.

"Wow! I have to admit, but the editing seems really smooth. I can see a lot of thought went into this." Kafka said as he took a brief overview of the collection that Iharu had made over the years. Furuhashi looked away bashfully as his face turned as pink as his hair.

"It really is just a hobby at this point. Most of my followers seem to just enjoy the daily blog stuff more. But, to be honest, I always told myself that if, for some reason, I didn't make it in the Defense Force I... might have pursued a career as a film director." Kafka slung his arm over Iharu's shoulder and drew him in close.

"Now that, I would have definitely paid... to... see." He stepped back to look at his surroundings, taking in the view of the ebbing crowd and sensing a disturbing lack of panic and chaos. But... why would there be? There was nothing to be afraid.... oh.

Oh Shit. There it was.

Kafka got a familiar sinking feeling deep in his gut. Like a cold wave of heavy mist and dry ice was dropped into his stomach. He started whipping his head around, trying to see if he could place the direction in which the dangerous disturbance could be coming from.

"Iharu! Eyes up! Trouble incoming." The teen flashed a worried look toward Kafka as he hurriedly put his phone away.

"Kaiju attack? Here?"

"Yeah, a honju. Small one though, it feels like. To close for comfort, though. Get the alert out!" Kafka ran to one of the food stalls next to them and grabbed a megaphone out of a hawker's hands

"EVERYONE! IMMINENT KAIJU ATTACK! START HEADING TO THE SHELTERS!"

Some people started to gather up their stuff while others only looked on in disbelief, thinking he was some drunk prankster, until a small earthquake rattled the street and stalls. Everyone began to feel the threat approaching with the sound of distant buildings crashing over the sudden wailing of the alert system through speakers and phones alike. The people started sprinting toward the nearest shelter, with Kafka and Iharu helping the stragglers and the fallen catch up to the rest. Once it seemed like a majority had made it off this particular street and others, too scared shitless to move, had been relegated to closer, save enough zones like basements and reinforced closets, did Kafka start running toward the source of the disaster. Iharu, not far behind, ran after him.

"Sir! Do you think we should be heading toward this? Its not like we could be of much help without gear."

"Kinda figured we'd look at it and go from there? Least I could do is break it down visually and have you relay the information." Kafka started to summon some of his Kaiju bio-works through his system, calling forth faster speed and inhuman claws, and used them to get to higher elevation. As the cryptid soldier began to race across rooftops, Iharu mentally broke down the things that he could help with, starting with field reconnaissance and path prediction.

##########################################

Even without the suit, Iharu was keeping up with with a supped-up Kafka. It helped that he was trying to gain more height than speed to better survey the land and find the cause of danger. Once he found a sign of the monstrous disturbance, Kafka began giving directionals down to Iharu. As the man on the ground, he took it upon himself to keep track how they were moving between the three of them, figured a possible heading, and started to send directions back to Kafka in an attempt to head whatever this was off at a pass. So far, they hadn't hit any major damaged areas yet, so Iharu wasn't too focused on checking for possible trapped survivors.

Thanks to Kafka's sight and Iharu's planning, the two of them had made it to the location of the honju. Bursting through a broken and slanted ally way, Iharu had caught sight of the beast first. It was cephalopod based, resembling a mix between a squid or an octopus, crossed with an armored spider. Its' head was blue and bulbous, with a thin, wide, white ribbon running the diameter of its rounded top. It had four darker blue tentacles, each ending in a triangular nub covered in wicked spiked suckers, and another eight acting as its legs. All of them covered in what looked like black, striped,and jointed keratin plating and all of them ending in squishy tarantula paws. It was big, about a family-of-four house sized, tall as well as wide, and it was pissed.

"You don't think it smelled all the fried seafood and wanted revenge, do you think?" Kafka leaped down from a shattered rooftop and landed close to Iharu. The younger one grabbed the senior's wrist and dragged them both behind some cover before the honju saw them.

"Well, you said you wanted to break it down. Now's your chance." Iharu hissed quietly.

The aquatic beast lumbered forward, bellowing a watery warble as it bashed its tentacles against the building to its left. Kafka braced his back against the large piece of broken wall and shimmied upwards slowly in an attempt to gain a better look without breaking cover. He began to mentally run through a back catalog of information about Honju and Yoju, both from personal experience and from research on his down time, and came up with very little. But what he did come up with could still be very useful.

"Ok, here's the deal. Both Honju and Yoju can have aquatic forms and when they do, they stick unusually close to the original anatomy of their more normal counterparts."

"And how is that helpful?" Iharu whispered harshly as he stayed close to the ground in a crouched position.

"I'm getting there, hold on. From what it looks like, this bastard is sticking pretty close to something from the squid family. Which means it would be a safe bet that its core is somewhere close to the surface of the body, situated around the junction between the trunk and its head, and under a thick backbone made of cartilage."

"Alright, i'll tell everyone to aim for the.... neck I guess?" Iharu began to pull out his phone, but Kafka shooed it down to dismiss the idea.

"Here's the thing. You can actually kill a normal squid really easily by hitting it right at that junction. And I mean like one hard smack kinda deal." Kafka slid down the cover to better demonstrate with his hands to his partner.

"Yes, this has been established." Iharu sounded exasperated, almost desperate too as the beast trudged on by.

"I have a really bad idea." Kafka looked Iharu dead in the eyes with as much seriousness as he could. All Iharu could do was send a look of disbelief right back.

"Whatever it is, no."

"Ok, but if I'm right, the Defense force doesn't even need to show up because we'll be done already."

"HOW, may I ask? We don't even have any weapons." Iharu was becoming flabbergasted now, slowly debating to stop bothering with discrepancy.

"Ah, but you forget, I'm a living weapon. I don't even need a full transformation. Just make sure it doesn't turn around for a second while I grab a lamp post and get to higher ground." Iharu just groaned into his hands while Kafka turned and ran to find a suitable post, preferably one already uprooted.

Minutes later, Kafka had managed to fine a suitable improvised weapon to attack with and was trying his best to lug it over quietly. Iharu was still hiding behind the original piece of cover, watching his battle buddy struggle while keeping an eye on the yoju, making sure it hadn't been alerted to Kafka's presence. Kafka was on the other side of the street, opposite to Iharu's position and had much more cover to work with since that was the side the monster seemed to be taking its aggression out on. However, this came with its own set of problems as Kafka kept knocking the lamp post on what seemed to be every obstacle imaginable. Causing Iharu to flinch and indirectly slowing the beasts progression as it kept picking up on Kafka's poor attempt at stealth. After Kafka had managed to bang the bottom of the post against an unseen rock and cause the honju to turn around and face his general direction, it became clear to him that if he was to scale a building and get closer, some preventative measures were going to have to take place.

After waiting for the monster to turn back around, Kafka started to wave his arms around to get a hold of Iharu's attention.

'Go distract' Kafka tried to pantomime using military hand gestures.

'Me distract?' Iharu responded back, to which Kafka affirmed

'Are you nuts?' Iharu sent back, ducking as a chunk of debris flew over his head.

'Just throw a brick or something.' Kafka sent before picking up the post and tried to quietly lean it on the nearest building. Iharu hung his head at the absurd situation and looked around for a suitable rock.

Speedily crouch walking past several broken walls and roof pieces, he had managed to get back in front of the honju's path. Looking back, Kafka had transformed his hands back into claws and was now trying to climb the side of a building while alternating bringing the pole up with him. He seemed to be doing fine so far, trying his best not to make more noise than he could get away with. Kafka had made it to a metal fire escape landing that was miraculously still attached to a partially demolished building. He leaned over to pull up the light post behind him... and smacked the top of it into the landing above.

Before the monster had time to react to Kafka's blunder, Iharu had thrown the rock as hard as he could, aiming for it to land in front of its face and keeping its attention forward. This would of worked had Iharu had picked a smaller or lighter rock, as it had flown straight into one of the beast's wiggling tentacles. Iharu didn't have time to duck behind cover as it had turned to face the source of bodily harm. The honju roared as it raised its front arms and tentacles in defiance and began to lumber quickly toward the only thing it could really see, a mop of alarmingly pink hair.

"Shit, shIT, SHHHHIIIIIIIIIITTTTTT!" Iharu bolted down the street, leaping and bounding over ruble in his path as the squishy, blue beast rapidly shuffled behind him giving chase. Kafka vocally mirrored the pink human rocket's sentiment as he rushed to carry the light pole up to the remains of the roof.

The buildings around Furuhashi turned into a blended blur as he blasted down the street, the journey made easier now that he hit a section that the honju hadn't demolished yet and left no obstacles to jump around. However, that didn't mean that he didn't have an easy time running away. With every footstep the multi-limbed monster made, sent the road trembling, forcing Iharu to find some sea legs fast. While it seemed to be a constant fact that spider based kaiju were slow enough to be outrun by anyone able-bodied, The shaking this one was creating gave Iharu a feeling that one misstep, one slight falter in his adrenaline fueled gait, could spell a messy end for him.

As he came onto a three-way, he juked the literal fish-out-of-water and whipped right, feet sliding out from under him. Iharu had to recover quickly as the squid-spider had regained it's footing as well and picked up its pace. Tentacles slammed and swiped all around him, causing the younger soldier to duck and weave intensely and dug deep inside of himself to find the strength to go faster.

A simple image. A snow blonde man with frosted violet eyes. Once facing a complimentary sunset, turned back to face Iharu in his mind's eye.

That's all it took for him. Not thinking too much about it (surely if he did, he would call himself out on his patheticness) Iharu managed to speed up just in time. He found himself passing under a familiar Torii gate just as the honju began to bring down a weighty tentacle. Before it could though, a squelchy crunch sound echoed down the food stalls lined boulevard him and Kafka were on earlier. Iharu kept going until he noticed the lack of quaking that was accompanying his previous flight for his life. Slowing down cautiously, he turned around to gawk at the scene that had unfolded behind him

Just passing under the Torii gate was the unnatural squid like beast, now limp and an opaque, milky color. Stood on top of the bulbous trunk in a victorious killing pose was Kafka, having hammered the concreted base of the lamppost square over its one-shot kill spot. Kafka let go of the post once it seemed sure that the monstrous cephalopod wasn't going to move anymore and stood up and relaxed. He flashed Iharu a thumbs up in reassurance.

Iharu was far from reassured and was shaking from the head to toe in adrenaline withdrawal. He took a second to catch his breath and immediately regretted it, running over to an uncovered trash can and vomited his stomach contents from the nerves.

#########################################

Several back rubs, gurgled curses, and vehement apologies later, Iharu felt okay enough to walk again. Kafka took a second to extend his kaiju sensory powers to check the immediate area for more threats while Iharu double checked him with research from his phone. Certain they had eliminated the only threat that had decided to make its presence known, the two discussed their next course of action. Seeing that the damage had been localized to a different part of town and how none of it had really reached the festival, they decided to see if they could encourage those that were still around to start the food stalls back up. To be honest, the decision was made from a mutual understanding that if it didn't, the two of them would have no choice but to head back to headquarters. Which felt like admitting defeat too early, seeing as they had wanted to stay out as long as they wished tonight, damn the consequences.

The two split up and went around to the surrounding buildings and encouraged the caged civilians inside that it was safe now. Once told that it was some off duty members of the Defence Force, those inside started to walk out and braced themselves for the possible damage that wasn't there. Some of the bartenders of the local bars that hadn't left in the evacuation started a one time only deal of giving everyone that had stayed a round on the house. Once it seemed that the neighborhood's basements and closets were emptied, Kafka and Iharu met in the center of the street.

"I got everyone on the left." Kafka started.

"And I got everyone on the right. Going to head to the shelter where everyone headed to and see about bypassing the lock on it to get everyone out. You coming?" Iharu said, already turning to leave.

"Nah, I'm gonna stay here and see what I can do about the squid at the gate. Get it out of here before it gets rank." Iharu managed two thumbs up as he briskly jogged away to the rescue.

A large crowd had begun to form around the fishy corpse under the gate. Kafka could make out some of the hushed phrases as he politely muscled his way through.

"Can't believe it had gotten so close."

"There doesn't seem to be any casualties so far?"

"We were lucky that some members of the third division were here tonight."

"Its almost seems like the gods were looking out for the festival, don't ya think?"

"The spirits must have considered the food too good to waste- excuse me, coming through! Make way, if you don't mind." Kafka began to move more easily through the crowd after making his presence known.

Getting to the front, he stood proud and took a long look at the situation before him. His past experience in the Sweepers began to flow easily into his mind as he walked around and over the dead beast. It was soft and squishy, with a tough skin. Not so tough that it probably couldn't be pierced by a good knife, he thought. The keratin plates were only held on with a thin sheet of tendon and looked like it could be filleted or pried off with little difficulty. The legs seemed closer to a crab than a spider at a closer glance, it just had an extra set. Breaking the crab legs would be challenging, however. Sure they could be cracked, but only after heated drastically and directly at the joints. Kafka leaned back and sighed. He knew he wasn't going to be the one cleaning this up, but he'd hate to have the whole squad out here for what could be a three person job.

Well, three if they had five hours. The more people, the less time of course. This one just so happened to be simple to break down, however. Give him ten minutes and he could teach everything that was important to the crowd in front of him. They could probably have this all dismantled before the Sweepers even got out of bed.

"Hey! You're with the Defense force, right? How long do you think it would take to get this out of here?" A portly man in a tan canvas apron shouted up at Kafka. The half kaiju man slid down the deceased squid beast so he could talk to the man in an appropriate manner.

"Well the thing's dead, so that parts' already done. Getting the body out of here is down to the Sweepers. I used to work with them, so I can just call a few of them up and we can get this dismantled and out of here soon. It's all a shame though."

"What make you say that?" A taller man behind the chunky one piped up.

"Well, for one, if the JAKDF finds out I'm here, I'm gonna have to get back on duty sooner than I'd like." This caused a slight chuckle from the neighboring crowd that heard him, causing some to relax slightly.

"And this is me saying from previous experience, the dismantling for this thing would be easy; it's just labor intensive. Wouldn't need fancy tools or anything. Just some willing hands, and I'd hate to bring out a whole ten piece crew for something this small. I don't even think Izumo really messes with squid types anyway. Not unless they exhibit some unnatural power so this would end up getting tossed in a trash heap in the end." The short man from earlier turned to look at the milky squid spider and shook his head in sympathy.

"Damn shame they aren't edible, huh?" A light bulb went off in Kafka's head as he turned to look at the man. Looking down, he saw that, in the pockets of the man's apron, was a handful of toothpicks and a couple sets of sharp metal chopsticks with bells attached to the ends of the wooded handles. Instruments designed to get people attention when someone made takoyaki.

"Actually.... most aquatic type kaiju are."

Half an hour later, Iharu lead the throng of people that had made it to the shelter back to the street and saw the most ridiculous sight. People had swarmed the dead honju, a third of it now seemed to be missing. Some had rigged a makeshift pulley system over the Torri gate and was lifting large chunks of milky, spotted flesh up and away from the rest of the body. Kafka was at the base, directing others on how to properly separate the armored plates from the legs while somebody on the other side was using a cutting torch and passed off the legs to another group that was putting them in a steaming metal barrel. Some had set their respective stalls back up and had hurriedly changed or added on new parts to their signs, all now advertising a kaiju variant of wherever fried food they were selling before.

"KAFKA! Mind telling me what's going on?" Iharu shouted over the sound of intense manual labor. Kafka looked at everyone and asked if they understood. When everyone nodded yes, Kafka broke away and joined Iharu.

"Funny thing, actually. I was talking to this guy in the crowd about the labor and how it would be a waste if we got the Sweepers involved. He said something about 'Shame it ain't edible' and it made me remember that some sea-bearing ones are and the guy I was talking too ran the giant takoyaki stand, the one where they're as big as your head, and the guy behind him was selling calamari rings and-"

"So you thought it would be a good idea to teach everyone here how to dismantle a kaiju? You don't seriously expect people to eat that, right? It's kaiju meat, how are you so sure it doesn't have parasites or something?"

"Oh! Already solved that problem." Kafka said, "Quick vinegar bath. Kills the sturdier ones and the heat kills the rest." Iharu looked past Kafka suspiciously and stared at the group of volunteers working away at the dead and, apparently edible, body.

"And where's the organs and shit going, might I ask?"

"Called an old work buddy that has a truck. He's going to be here in an hour to pick up the double bagged trash bags and throw them over the fence at work. He's getting paid in fried food when he gets here." Kafka mentioned, sounding proud of himself. Iharu just shrugged it off, thinking that it sounded like Kafka-appropriate levels of absurdity and that he shouldn't complain too much about it. After all, this removes any and all reason for the third Division to come down here. No chaos, no bodies, no trouble. Which meant that they didn't have to explain to co-workers why they weren't back yet and be forcefully dragged back against their will, so wins all-around honestly.

The squat man from earlier walked over to where the two were talking, carrying two white and unmarked carryout boxes the size of a soccer ball.

"Here, you killed the damn thing. You get first dibs on the spoils." he handed them over and jogged back to his station, now flooded with a line of people wanting to try kaiju squid takoyaki.

The off duty officers looked at each other briefly before rapidly tearing open the top of the box, revealing the most wondrous sight and smell. Inside was a massive takoyaki ball, fried with a variety of fillings, more than just onions and corn and slathered in eel sauce and kewpie mayo, topped with bonito flakes.

'Maybe it was worth almost getting smashed into a pancake.' Iharu thought before diving into the free meal.

########################################

'Cleared the surrounding area of potential causalities in quadrant Charlie, found none. Path of destruction heads east. Permission to follow?" Aoi Kaguragi, a member of the Third Division, relayed the pertinent information through his ear piece, awaiting further instruction.

"Message received, free to follow Kaguragi. Take care." Okonogi relayed back.

Aoi nodded over to his partner for tonight, Haruichi, and the two of them headed in the direction of the chaotic path of broken rubble. The two of them, as well as a small crew had been sent out to examine the emergence site of the recently exposed kaiju. The team was originally sent out to fight the disturbance, but halfway through suiting up, was almost called off due to the honju signature suddenly disappearing. Vice Captain Hoshina had the last say however, and made the crew go out anyway. Saying at the very least they should check for injured and make a damage report. He didn't say this specifically, but the impression was given that, since they were all the way out there, someone might as well find out why the signature disappeared in the first place. Aoi and Haruichi got done first, so they went to find the answers.

Following the cracked pavement lead them to a three-way intersection that had clearly sustained some bludgeoning damage as indicated by the mid-sized honju-like dent in the buildings in front of them. They turned to the right and continued to follow the rows of spider cracks that had imprinted onto the houses and streets, only to have their concentration broken by a passing truck clearly overladen with bulging, lumpy, stained trash bags.

"Was that a giant squid backbone?" Haruichi questioned.

"I'm surprised you know what one looks like." Aoi stated, not letting small things distract him from following the path of structural chaos that led down the street.

"You do know that I go fishing with my cousins on occasion. 'Cook what you catch' kind of vacations."

"What, on your overpriced yacht?" Aoi smirked as he couldn't resist adding a touch of teasing in his voice. Haruichi could come across as so mild mannered some days, it made it hard to picture him as a son of a business tech tycoon. Everyone on the base that knew him would occasionally tease him about it and it seemed that, as polite and agreeable as Aoi was in person, even he wasn't above the periodic ribbing-of-the-rich.

"It's a moderately sized deck boat, thank you very much. If I kick out the family, it should be big enough for the two of us to have some fun. If you're interested, that is?" Haruichi said, words dusted with seduction as he winked at Aoi. Kaguragi's lips thinned in an attempt to not break his resting bitch face at the salacious suggestion.

"Then again, that implies either of us get enough time off to go anywhere these days." Haruichi huffed. Aoi quietly grumbled in agreement before he straightened his attention to the sight down the street.

As the two crested the small hill, the sounds of the festival became more apparent and the smells of the food crashed down on them like a tidal wave of spices and fried oil. They noticed that the damage they had been following seemed to have stopped here suddenly, directly under the Torri gate still covered in ropes. A couple of people on ladders were carefully taking them down and a pair of women, one young and one old, were on their knees scrubbing away at what looked like a large blue ink stain.

"Hello! Sorry to bother you, but have either of you seen a medium sized honju pass through here? We're with the Defense Force and we would like to make sure that the threat isn't still around."

"The big squid spider lookin' thing?" the younger lady of the two said as she looked up.

"I would assume so, we didn't know what it looked like since it seemed to disappear so quickly. My partner and I followed its tracks here, but they don't appear to be anywhere else." Haruicho adjusted the kevlar strap attached to his gun so it would sit squarely on his back and kneeled down to talk to the women face to face.

"A couple of off duty members of yours already took care of it. It was sitting here, spilling its blood on the sidewalk until the big, polite looking oaf got the bright idea to tell Aki that it was edible. Once that got passed around, some of the other seafood fryers wanted to get in on its dismantling and get their own pound of flesh to fry. If ya want to try it, better hurry. It's selling out fast." The old woman pointed to the stalls behind her just as some of them had walked out to write on their respective signs detailing about how they were almost sold out of fried or battered kaiju meat.

Izumo looked back to his partner and could almost see the drool cascading from Kaguragi's open mouth. Aoi looked down at him, hoping that he wasn't going to have to defy a direct order that didn't allow him to get in line. Haruichi dismissed him wordlessly with a hand wave, not that it mattered as Aoi had already left and now it seemed he was trying to use his Defense Force title to skip ahead in line. Sighing at his partner's antics, Haruichi returned to his conversation.

"You mentioned a 'polite looking oaf', and from that description, I have a feeling I might know who you're talking about. Would you mind telling me where the festival savior headed off to?"

"Last I saw, him and his pink haired friend went to celebrate in one of the bars around here. There's several, mind you, but I don't think they've crossed over to the left side yet. Best guess? Stick to the right and see which one sound the loudest." Haruichi thanked the old women for the advice and walked down the street. He stopped by Aoi and told him the same thing before starting his investigation in earnest. The words of the old women came back to mind, however, once he pieced together who the off duty members could be.

'Kafka's with Iharu? Here? That's odd. I thought Iharu was leaving with Reno? And weren't they just heading to a movie? Shouldn't they have been back by now?' Haruichi thought. As he passed down the street, carefully listening to the volume of any of the bars he passed, all he could do was hope that neither of them were too plastered to answer some questions.

#########################################

Haruichi walked up and down the street to get a good idea as to which of the bars seemed to be the loudest and popped his head into a few of of them to see if he could find his fellow co-workers. Third bar he picked seemed to be a karaoke bar. It was fairly narrow, with the bar on the right and the left wall lined with as many booths as one could fit comfortably. There were a couple of standing tables placed offset to each other in the middle of the room it seemed, but it was hard to tell how many there were through the mass of people crammed in the room. From the top of the short set of stairs he was standing on, he could see to the other side of the bar at least and look at the loud drunken pair singing their lungs out on the shallow stage placed at the end of the sitting area.

And who would of guessed it would be the 'polite looking oaf and his pink haired friend'. Kafka was the one holding the mic and had his arm slung over Iharu's shoulder, almost looking like he was putting his full weight on it with how far the two of them were bending toward the ground. Iharu was holding a large beer mug that was a quarter full and was still threatening to spill out onto the floor. The two were heavily engrossed in their rendition of... God, Haruichi couldn't even tell. Thankfully he wasn't subjected to the aural torture much longer as the song finished. While Iharu thanked the very drunk, very enthusiastic crowd for being such good listeners, Haruichi waved his arms over his head and got Kafka's attention.

"Heyyyyy! I'll be DAmned! It's fucken' Haruichi! Holy SHIT!" Kafka exclaimed. He dragged Iharu clumsily off the stage and waved Izumo over to some bar stools that some patrons happily got off of once Kafka explained himself and that his friend from the Defense Force showed up. Haruichi managed to muscle his way through the crowd and make it to the seats next to the others just as Kafka wrapped him up in a massive drunken bear hug.

"God, man! Where you've been? We've been here keeping this party going since we took down that ugly mutherfucker. Hey, you didn't hear about us from Hoshina did you?" Kafka's breath smelled heavily of cheap whisky but wasn't slurring his words half as much as Haruichi thought he would.

"I'll answer your questions if you answer mine. What the hell are you doing here? And with Iharu? I thought him and Reno had a date or something?" Kafka made a silencing gesture with his hand as he got closer to Haruichi.

"I wouldn't try and say that too loud. Reno had to blow the date for a mission and I don't think Iharu's been taking it too well. He had prepaid the movie tickets and I mentioned that I like Ranger Rika films, so now we're here."

"Okay, and what about the kaiju that showed up around here? I heard from the locals that you killed it?" Iharu, who had picked a spot on the other side of the two, had leaned in to hear them better and had perked up at the mention of the kaiju fight.

"OOHHH MAN! HaRU! YOU should of SEEN US, MAN! I wasss running for ma LIFE from that THING! I got chasssed ALL the WAY to the- the.... big red thing and Kafka ;OH man, KAFKA! HE came on it from ABOVE and smacked it with a fucken' LIGHT POLE! A light pole, MAN!" Iharu accentuated his retelling with wild hand gestures and made it clear to Haruichi that either he had more than Kafka did or couldn't hold his liqueur very well.

"Don't mind him, he's on his fourth mug right now. Is the rest of the division here with you?" Kafka asked.

"No, It's just me and Aoi here at the festival. The rest of the group is back at the emergence site making sure there's no casualties and taking a damage toll. Aoi's outside at the festival buying out all the fried food he can get his hands on right now." Haruichi replied, politely refusing the bartender's inquiry of whether or not he would be having a drink.

"Oh, that's nice. here's hoping that he manages to grab some of the kaiju meat before it's gone." Kafka downed another shot of whiskey that the bartender had poured out for him.

"Okay, sure. Last question. Aren't you guys supposed to be back by now?" Haruichi tried to look very pointedly at the two of them when he asked.

'What do you mean by that?" Kafka pounded on his chest as he said, fighting the burning sensation firing its way back up his throat. Izumo looked around appearing very puzzled before he looked back at Kafka.

"I don't know what time you guys left, but you can't tell me the two of you have enough hours to be out here for much longer." Hibino choked on his own spit for a second before trying to respond to Haruichi pointed suggestion, however it seemed to be a second too long as Iharu had already heard him and took the chance to... vocally express his opinion on the matter.

"FUCK THEM HOURS!"

'Iharu, maybe not right now-" Kafka tried to interject.

"NAH! I'M TIRED ABOUT HEARING ABOUT HOW MANY HOURS I GOTTA HAVE OR HOW MANY I GOT LEFT!" Iharu had gotten off of his stool and now began directing his speech to the drunk crowd behind him.

"WHEN I SAY I WANT A DAY OFF, I SHOULD GET THE WHOLE DAY OFF! NOT GET BACK A 'SORRY, CAN'T LET YOU DO THAT' OR 'WE NEED YOU TO COME BACK IN' TWO HOURS INTO A BREAK I SCHEDULED OFF THREE FUCKIN' DAYS AGO!" Now the crowd was cheering for Iharu, getting riled up on his behalf and probably relating as well due to how he worded his rant.

"SAY IT WITH ME! FUCK THEM HOURS!" Iharu started the chant with his mug held high in the air.

"Fuck them hours!" the crowd chanted back.

"FUCK THEM HOURS!" Iharu tried again

"FUCK THEM HOURS!!!" All the people in the room joined in this time.

"You think we should do something?" Haruichi asked.

"I think they're already handling it." Kafka pointed to two tall, well built men dressed in black polos walking over to the center of the crowd where Iharu had made himself at home, driving the people around him into a frenzy. The two at the bar watched as their friend was lifted up, crowd surfing style and was carried to the front door of the bar. They rushed off of their seats and joined in at the back of the mock revolution that was following their leader, still chanting 'Fuck them hours."

The two of them watched as their coworker was unceremoniously tossed onto his ass on the street outside of the bar. Watching their appointed leader get treated with such carelessness seemed to shake the throng of people out of their rebellious state of mind and dispersed quietly. Kafka and Haruichi looked down at a stunned Iharu laying spread eagle, not really sure what he should do next. Kafka decided to lay down next to Iharu while Haruichi sat down on the lip of the sidewalk behind their heads.

"So, you just got your first experience getting kicked out from a bar. How do you feel?" Kafka asked, not looking at Iharu but instead looking up at the stars being framed in the corners of his vision by the lanterns lining the street.

"Ssstars look purtty tonight." Iharu replied, pointing up at the sky with the glass mug he was holding onto inside the bar.

Kafka chuckled, "Yeah, they sure do buddy."

"You think they're going to notice the mug you're still holding?" Haruichi asked, face in his hands and his elbows on his knees. It looked like Iharu finally realized what he was holding as he brought it closer to his face. Looking closer at the mug, he could see that the glass had a pattern molded around the base. An interlocking pattern made up of a six pointed star with tiny branches spouting off the ends of each point. Almost like a snowflake.

Iharu violently convulsed into tears at the thought and curled up into a ball, clutching the beer mug close to his chest.

"Geez, what did I say?" Haruichi asked.

"I have a feeling this is about something else." Kafka said, rolling onto his side to comfort his partner.

"I jussst wanted to take him on a date, isss dat so wrong?" Iharu sobbed, fighting to talk around the mucus building in his throat.

"Reno?" Haruichi asked

"Reno." Kafka replied, hugging Iharu close to his chest as best he can.

"I was going to show him how much we have in common and take him to pretty placesss and buy him nice things! I jussst wanted to tell him how much it meant to me to be his fwend and how much I loved hiiimmm..." Kafka just rubbed his back as his body became racked with shakes from his struggle to breathe. "I jussst wanted to tell him that I thinks he's so cooool and that I think he's pretty when he's asleep and I didn't want to sssound creepy when I did! Why couldn't he be here?" Iharu screamed into Kafka's wind breaker, now stained with tears and mucus.

"It'll be okay. You'll have other chances to tell him." Kafka tried to say reassuringly in the awkward position.

"Buts I wanted to tell him today! I don't think I can wait any longer before I say sssomething ssstupid and ruin everything! And I don't even know if he'll like me baaaack!" Iharu only to calm down slightly, but at least the shaking stopped. Kafka looked back at Haruichi expectantly, silently asking him to help out here. Izumo slid himself off the sidewalk and scooched over to the men making a scene in the middle of the street and placed a hand on the younger one of the three.

"There, there. I'm sure you two will be able to talk it out. I have no doubt that Reno harbors anything less than love for you in his heart."

"Okay, that'sss nice and all, but do we know it's love 'as a fwend' or love 'as a partner'? 'Cuz I really want it to be 'as a partner' but I don't want to tell him if he'sss going to find that uncomfortable." Iharu said as tried his best to wipe his face clean with the sleeve of his jacket. Haruichi pondered for a minute before suggesting a plan.

"Maybe... I could ask?", Iharu looked tearfully behind him as best as possible to look Haruichi in the eyes. "I wouldn't say anything incriminating, just... see if he's open to the possibility?"

This seemed to pacify Iharu a little bit as he brought himself to a sitting position.

"Yeah, but that doesssn't solve what I could do for a date, though. This wasss da best I could come up with and I was racking my brain for a week." Iharu slurred, wiping his face. Kafka up-righted himself as well and scratched his side as he positioned himself perpendicular to Iharu.

"Well, either way, you're going to have to wait and save up time again before you're allowed to head back out." Kafka thought for a moment as he paused in his scratching, "Its the middle of June now, right? Late July, early August is a pretty good time for a beach date. Romantic enough and lots of places do a sorta 'last week of summer hoorah' kinda deal."

"And we're pretty close to the beach. Wouldn't need to save up many hours if you're that desperate for time." Haruichi chimed in. Iharu took all of the information in and, for the first time tonight, seemed genuinely happy. The kind of happiness that can be seen all the way through someone's core.

"Did I miss something?" A familiar, but muffled baritone rang out from the left of the group. It was Aoi, back from a successful shopping spree in the festival. His arms were laden with bags upon bags of different types of food. It was almost comical how many bags there were seeing as one couldn't even find his large torso. Ranging from white plastic bags, to brown paper ones, to clear ones showcasing the goods inside. All seemingly stuffed to the brim.

"Is that... a hamster butt hanging out of your mouth?" Haruichi asked. Aoi quickly chewed and swallowed it so he could speak more clearly.

"Its hamster shaped kikufuku mochi. I almost feel guilty eating them because they're so cute. Unfortunately for them, they're just as good as they look. Don't worry, I bought enough for everyone. Three of these boxes are for me though." Aoi paused and stared at the bags really hard for a second. "Actually, it's two now, but my point still stands."

######################################

Haruichi made the suggestion that, maybe, they should be making their way back to base but Iharu became very irate at that suggestion. So to pacify him, the pair-turned-quartet walked around the festival a little longer, buying some more food to help Iharu feel more like his happier self. Well, everyone else walked. Kafka started giving Iharu a piggy back ride when it seemed like he was swaying on his feet and complained about foot pain. They had made it halfway down the other side of the street when Kafka looked over and saw something that jogged his memory. Aoi noticed the feeling of disconnect in the group and turned around, causing Haruichi to look as well.

It was another Torri gate, nestled between two brick buildings, looking like it was erected as a protective marker. Blocking against the bustle of the festival, locked behind its towering height was a well worn stone path trailing up and to the left, hiding its destination behind a thick grove of trees. What refreshed Kafka's memory, however, was that the trail was lined with a multitude of overly colorful paper lanterns in a variety of shapes and sizes. The stillness of the trees and the ethereal light pouring out from the lanterns contrasted against the feeling that came from being out on the street. It really felt like there was a chance one could get swept away by playful spirits if one made the decision to turn off from the sidewalk and explore this detour.

"Hey, Iharu? Kafka asked, shifting his friend's weight on his back and rousing him from the light slumber he was about to slip into.

"Yeah," Iharu said sleepily, "What's up?"

"Didn't you say there was a shrine that you wanted to take Reno to that had paper lanterns and was close to the festival?" Iharu looked over at what Kafka was looking at and lit up a little at the memory.

"Oh yeah! Thisss might be it actually." Kafka looked over at the other two members of the party.

"I think we're going to take a detour. He had plans to stop by the place earlier. The path ahead might be long, so you can go ahead on back, If you want."

"Oh, no. We're sticking with you to make sure you both actually make it back to base." Haruichi walked over to stand under the gate and made an 'after you' kind of gesture. Kafka shrugged his shoulders and walked ahead of Izumo and Kaguragi.

The path had no steps, but sloped upwards gently. Turning sharply left then right then back again, it took the group on a slow and peaceful journey up a hidden hill behind the buildings back on the main boulevard. Kafka was in the lead, setting a slow pace with a sleepy Iharu on his back while Aoi and Haruichi had a quiet discussion further back. Still keeping pace, but leaving enough room between the two of them as to not make things feel rushed.

The path lived up to its initial impression back at its entrance. The trees seemed to block any sound from the festival down at ground level. Not to make things eerily quiet, was a methodical thrumming of cicadas and crickets weaving through the quiet rush of leaves dancing in the light wind. The lanterns were attached to arms connected to rough-hew logs and cast their warm, glassy light over the leaves, bushes, and stones. The shards of colored light danced over Iharu's partially lidded eyes, preforming a hypnotic dance that succeeded in keeping him half awake, half asleep.

His thoughts walked themselves backwards through the events of the day. Starting with the foods and the drinking, quickly sweeping past the terrifying chase against the giant squid monster, slowly reliving the events after, though, and before the movie theater. All the way back to the start, with Reno. Was he sad that he didn't get to do any of this with Reno? Absolutely. But considering the alternative was spending three hours in the barracks, wrapped up in a bare minimum of three stolen blankets, and blowing all that time feeling shitty about the situation he was in; getting to experience all of this anyway, in spite of how he wanted things to go, and having fun with someone he always worked with and was now getting this chance to be closer to as friends... well... this night did a fine job of making him happy anyway. And that was okay.

"Hey... this was nice." Iharu mumbled as he nuzzled Kafka's shoulder. Kafka just gave a big, warm smile back and let Iharu enjoy the scenery as they continued to find the end of the path.

The group finally hit a set of stairs that led to the main part of the shrine. Cresting the top of them, they were greeted with a lovely sight. A moderately sized shrine and a couple outbuildings were surrounded in the thick grove of trees on this hill. The lightly cloudy night sky was visible only in the center of the grove, with a half moon peaking out from the edge of the canopy's opening. It initially seemed that the main source of light was coming from candles and more of the lanterns that lined the path up here. Looking around longer proved that a building off to the right had electric lighting and was the one providing the most light. The light bulbs inside seemed to have attracted all the bugs in the forest and made the projecting light flicker chaotically onto the ground.

Both the shrine and the buildings around it appeared to be old, but very well maintained. Shimenawa ropes of all sizes lined the roofs of the Shrine and select other buildings. The candles, some exposed; others in glass containers, were on the floor of the main shrine and illuminated the collection box at the end of the stone path.

The four of them walked down to the end to pay their respects and make donations. Since Aoi's hands were full and he didn't have much money left after his buying spree, Haruichi paid for them both. Kafka's wallet was in the back pack on Iharu's back. So, without jumping off, Iharu took off the bag and pulled out both of their wallets. Kafka had plenty left but Iharu only had a couple 1000 yen bills and a lot of spare change. He dug out some 5 yen coins and tossed them in with Kafka's donation, still riding on his back. Haruichi made his and the whole group held their hands together in silent prayer.

The group turned around after a moment and walked back toward the entrance they came through. This time staying closer to the right as another group of people walked into the holy grounds as well. Sticking closer to the right afforded the group a good look at the wares the only properly illuminated building was selling. It was mainly some snacks and wooden key chains. There was the omikuji box of course, right next to a display of handmade protective charms and talismans. There was a man on the inside working away, oblivious to the world as a women sang a gentle song on a small black radio. Iharu glanced over the selection of charms and saw one that immediately caught his eye.

"Hey! Heyheyheyheyhey." Iharu's hand shook as he pointed at the charms display.

"What? What is it?" Kafka asked, trying to look at where Iharu's hand was pointing at.

"Looklooklooklook. The blue one." Iharu said vaguely. Kafka walked closer and leaned in to scan the display stand better. He found the light blue one that Iharu was pointing at. It didn't stand out much more differently than the rest, with all of them having the same complicated looking decorative knot pattern and they all were made with different colors of fabric. What he finally put together was that the pattern on the fabric... had snowflakes on it.

Kafka sighed heavily. "I take it you want the blue one for Reno?"

"Yeah, yeahyeahyeah." Iharu nodded quickly.

"You do realize you're broke now, right? You don't have enough money on you to pay for one." Kafka stated. Iharu hung his head and started to whimper loudly and pathetically into Kafka's shoulder.

All Hibino did was sigh heavily again. "Hand me my wallet." Furuhashi gave a small, delighted squeal as he dug out Kafka's wallet again. He paid the man for the charm and turned to meet back up with the other two. Looking around, they found them at a different part of the grounds, standing by a makeshift stall. Getting closer, they could see that it was selling bottles of plum wine and offering free samples to interested buyers. Aoi was sampling his, while Haruichi was having a conversation with the old lady running the stall. Aoi nudged Haruichi to let him not be shocked by their arrival. As Haruichi let Kafka in on the discussion he was having, Iharu immediately spaced out of it and let his eyes wander over the stall. The eyes eventually landed on the label that was on the bottles.

"Oooohhh!" Iharu cooed, "There's snowflakes on it."

"Don't tell me you want to gift Reno that too?" Kafka said exasperatedly. Iharu started to whine again as Haruichi passed a small wad of money over to the shocked lady behind the table.

"That's okay. I shouldn't be needing a whole case of wine anyway." Haruichi walked over to the side and grabbed a large plastic crate of wine bottles.

"And yet... You're buying a whole case of it anyway?" Aoi said with a raised eyebrow. As they walked back to the entrance, Izumo pulled out a bottle and tried to slide it into the open portion of the bag on Iharu's back.

"It's called 'Supporting local businesses'. And it wouldn't hurt to have something to surprise him with on that beach da- Hey!" Haruichi refuted as Iharu pulled out another bottle from the crate as he backed away.

"And, yoink!" the mischievous mohawked man giggled as he held his ill-gotten prize over his supplier's hands.

"Haven't the two of you had enough alcohol tonight?" Aoi said, witnessing the altercation.

"Hey, we made plans to get plastered tonight and I'm still feeling way too sober for that goal." Kafka said as he helped Iharu keep the bottle out of Haruichi's reach.

"You are a horrible role model, you know that?" Izumo said, giving up on the task in favor of protecting the rest in the crate.

"Eh, open." Iharu said, rudely tapping the lip of the bottle to Kafka's mouth.

"Ya could say please, ya know." Kafka returned as he took the bottle from Iharu. He did a partial transformation on his mouth and stuck the largest fang into the cork at the top. Wiggling slightly, the stopper popped satisfyingly and as he spit the cork into his hand, Iharu took the opportunity to steal the wine back.

"HEY! Leave me a sip of that, will YA?"

###########################################

The group made it back to street level and started back on the path to headquarters. They began the trip with the intention of taking a bus back, assuming the truck that Haruichi and Aoi came in on already left without them. The two of them weren't surprised, they were the ones that offered to look for the missing kaiju signature and haven't reported back on it yet, as it was hard to do so since the earpieces only have so much range. And seeing as how long the two of them had been gone and how late it was, they thought that it would be less of a hassle if they hiked it back to base and went inside quietly, just to give their reports in the morning.

The closest bus station was still a ways away, so the group started to walk in the general direction. The walk was quickly derailed as they passed the restaurant that sold Kafka and Iharu their new hats. With some major protesting from Aoi, who was against the idea, Haruichi purchased a dark navy blue one for Aoi and a vibrant red one with silver stars for himself anyway, seeing as Aoi still had his hands full with bags and physically could not intervene. The grumbled protests from Aoi were eventually silenced when he got to keep a large chocolate peanut butter milkshake all to himself.

Thankfully, the bus ride home was uneventful, save for Iharu drunkenly talking Haruichi's ears off when he asked what the Ranger Rika film was all about. However, problems began to arise again as they reached the main gate of the base.

"Ssso, how are we gonna get inside?" Iharu slurred from the top of Kafka's back. He started to carry him again after they got off the bus and saw that he was still swaying on his feet. They were all the way through the empty parking lot and reached the imposing security wall that surrounded the institution. Just under half a kilometer, was the double gated entry point. One of three that were imbedded in the thick concrete barrier.

"What do you mean?" Izumo asked as he turned around to look at the two behind him.

"We probably should've been back, like, hours ago. So if we show our i.d's to the guard, we're probably going to get flagged and that's not something that we want to deal with right now." Kafka said slowly, the gratuitous amounts of alcohol finally catching up with him.

"Did you guys have any sort of plan to get back inside quietly after this little exhibition of yours?" Aoi asked as Haruichi just looked annoyed. Kafka looked back at Iharu as Iharu could only shrug back an answer. He looked back and thought hard for a minute.

"Well... I think Shiggys' working the east gate tonight." Kafka said.

"And... Who's Shiggy?" Haruchi inquired.

"Oh, he's super chill. Dude works the late shift and isn't really a 'by the books' kinda guy. If either one of you has an i.d. on ya, he'll probably just let the whole group on in, no question." Aoi and Haruichi looked at each other, silently debating if they should go through with this. Aoi tried to give a very pointed look to Haruichi, indicating that he should be the one to whip out the i.d., but Haruichi had to defend himself.

"Sorry, but I only carry some cash out on missions. I leave the wallet and cards in my locker."

"Why do you even bring cash with you in the first place?" Iharu mumbled out.

"Last second grocery buys. Snacks, body wash, other things I forget sometimes." Haruichi turned back to Aoi. "So what about you? You can't tell me an ex-military officer doesn't carry at least six forms of identification for emergencies." he mocked. Aoi looked at Izumo, down to the ground in deep thought, gave a hard glance at the plethora of bags he was still holding, and finally hung his head in defeat. Kaguragi sighed heavily as he turned his back to his partner.

"Haruichi... I give you permission to touch my ass." Haruichi gasped in delight as he carelessly dropped the plastic box of wine and wiggled his fingers in excitement.

"Ooohhoohoo! This is a rare treat! What's the occasion, might I ask?"

"If I'm right, my wallet should be in my left back pocket. JUST the left one." Aoi said, looking back with a very pointed expression.

"Yeah you say that, but maybe I should check the right side too. Just to be sure." Haruichi giggled darkly, clearly taking too much joy out of this.

"Do that and I break your ha-nds!" Aoi's voice cracked when Haruichi slyly pinched both of his ass cheeks.

"Ah, would you look at that! Found it." He said as he pulled out the wallet.

"Kafka... shoot me if I ever start acting like that around Reno." Iharu said.

"I don't know. It's kind of endearing... in a weird way." Kafka quirked an eyebrow at the odd scene.

"Ah, trouble. I'm not seeing your base i.d., babe." Haruichi said after a few seconds of rummaging around in the wallet.

"You're sure? Fuck." Aoi cursed quietly. "Do I even trust you enough to look in my front pockets?"

"Nope. I'm going to look anyway." Haruichi giggled again as Aoi visibly winced at the feeling of the other's hands slowly sliding into his thin front pockets from behind. Izumo's hands didn't stick around long, which Kaguragi was thankful for, but it only brought them back to the original problem.

"I'm not feeling your i.d. in here either." Haruichi said as he gently patted Aoi's hips.

"Shiiiiiiiit. That means I never took it off the lanyard in my locker." Aoi threw his head back in disappointment. While this exchange was going on, Kafka and Iharu were looking off in the distance, specifically at the impossibly tall wall. Kafka scanned the parking lot to make sure that there wasn't that many cars to worry about and asked Iharu a question.

"You think If I run fast enough, I can scale that?" He said, nodding to the concrete barrier.

"What, in kaiju form?" Iharu contemplated for a moment, "Yeah. I think you could."

"I know I could, but what about if I carry three other people?" Kafka nodded back to the other two who were deep in what seemed to be a battle plan discussion. "Plus baggage."

Iharu took a long look at the pair next to them while he processed what Kafka was suggesting. He began to chuckle darkly as it all fell into place for him.

"I don't know man, but it be hilarious to try." The two of them began to chuckle in agreement before Kafka decided to put his plan into action.

"Haruichi! Grab the box. I wanna try something." Kafka said as he walked into position.

"Oh, that's great! Honestly, me and Aoi here were getting nowhere with a pla-HEY!" Haruichi cried out as Kafka grabbed him by the waist forcefully after he picked up the crate. Aoi was also none too pleased with where this plan was going, shall we say.

"Passengers, this is your captain speaking. Flight Kafka 690 will be taking off shortly, so please make sure that all baggage is secure and accounted for before it's wheels up and time for take-off." Iharu said smugly as Kafka walked back a few feet, holding a struggling Haruichi and Aoi.

"This is BY FAR the stupidest plan I have ever been forced to be a part oooOOFFFF!" Haruichi screamed as Kafka began to run full sprint toward the insanely high wall. As he got closer, his legs turned into his kaiju ones and the flaps on his calves flared open to reveal the after burners the transformation offered. Jumping onto the wall itself, Kafka's afterburners set fire to the bottom of his pant legs as he rocketed himself and everyone he was carrying into the sky. He could feel his back and elbows transform too to help him keep his back straight as the burners on his elbows helped stabilize him as he somehow managed to stay rooted to his path.

"Kafka you BASTARD!" Aoi screamed.

"If I drop this, I'll KILL YOU!" Haruichi mirrored, changing his grip on the crate of wine, somehow having not dropped any bottles yet.

"FUCK YEAAAAAHHHH!" Iharu cries of joy overshadowed the screams of the others.

"ALLLLMOOOOST THERRRREEE!" Kafka shouted, deep in concentration. The top of the wall got closer and closer, the end of this terrifying ride nearly in sight. The screams of the whole group rose to a deafening peak as Kafka just barely passed the edge of the wall. Relief was felt only for a brief moment when a noticeable shock wave passed through Kafka's body and transferred into the bodies of the others.

"Oh shit." a collective conclusion that was voiced by the whole group.

#########################################

It was just passed one in the morning when Reno and the team he was with made it back to base. He was so very tired. No one ended up being injured, thank God, but the anxiety of the situation took a severe toll on everyone involved. The mole kaiju were easy to take out, but the process to do so ended up becoming the world's most stressful game of literal Wack-a-mole.

Reno thought things would get better when everything was over, feeling hopeful on the chopper ride back, but when Reno pulled up his Chatter app and saw he's feed was just a timeline of Iharu and Kafka having the time of their lives at the food festival, it really put a damper on the ride back.

'I guess he really wanted to leave base today' Reno thought somberly. Iharu was his own person. If he wanted to leave, that's on him. If he wanted to take someone with him, that's on him too.

'It's just... I really wanted to go with him. And thought... he wanted me too..." Reno packed away his gun and excess supplies into his locker, feeling sluggish as he did. Suddenly, a loud metallic slamming noise decided to ring out through the locker room that he was in and dislodged him from his thoughts. Suit half unzipped, Reno tied the sleeves around his waist as he looked down the aisles to see where the door slamming was coming from.

Looking down the row behind him, he saw what seemed to be a very pissed off Kikoru Shinomiya, telling by the feral growling and tearing at her spare bio suit.

"Ummm... Is everything okay? Shinomiya?" Reno asked tentatively.

"I"M GOING TO MURDER THAT PRAWN HEADED RAT BASTARD!" Kikoru growled out as she finally managed to get her lower half into the power suit. Reno only became increasingly concerned now knowing this unbridled rage had something to do with Iharu. He couldn't ask anymore questions, however, since Vice Captain Soshiro Hoshina decided now would be the time to make his presence known.

"Reno. Good to see that you and the rest are back safely."

"Ah! V-vice Captain." Reno stuttered out, startled. "I was just getting my stuff packed before I joined the others for the after mission briefing."

"Good to know, but I think the rest of the team can make the report without you for now." Hoshina said curtly.

"S-sir?" Reno questioned vaguely.

"Don't worry, it's nothing life shattering. I just want to ask you about what the original plans you had with Iharu Furuhashi were about." Hoshina said, his voice giving off the sense that there was some concealed irritation.

"Um, plans? You mean the trip to the movies?" Reno asked.

"Yes, and where you were... haa, hold that thought. Go for Hoshina" he said as his hand made it up to his earpiece.

"Hoshina, this is Okonogi. We've got a massive disturbance at the front gate."

"Define 'disturbance'." Hoshina requested. If one looked closely, you could almost see his temple throbbing in a matched rhythm with his heart.

"I'm pulling security footage now. It's... Kafka Hibino, Sir? It appears that he is trying to... run up? The outer wall and is carrying three other Division members."

"I'm sorry? Other Division members?" Hoshina clarified.

"Yes Sir, that is correct. Just a moment... It looks to be Iharu Furuhashi, Aoi Kaguragi, and Haruichi Izumo. The absent members from this afternoon."

"What the hell is going on?" Reno asked, adjusting his own earpiece to the main channel, wanting to be included in the conversation.

"Sir, update! Kafka had made it up the wall, but has tripped and all four of them are in free fall on the other side" Okonogi reported. Hoshina's sigh turned into an exasperated growl toward the end.

"Come along Reno. We're apparently going to have to save our respective dumbasses." Hoshina turned to leave the room with a puzzled Reno trailing behind.

"Respective dumbasses?" Kikoru muttered. Immediately, a light came on upstairs. "Not until I get a hold of that ASSHOLE FIRST!" Kikoru turned and blasted past the vice captain and ran in the opposite direction of the front gate.

"Who put a bug in her suit?" Hoshina asked as they both leaned on the doorframe and watched her go.

"WRONG DIRECTION, KIKORU!" Reno added helpfully.

######################################

"SSSHHHHIIIIIIIIT" Everyone screamed as they realized what was happening. Kafka relaxed his arms as Haruichi and Aoi planted their feet on his hips and pushed themselves away as far as they could. Iharu, though, hung on for dear life. Haruichi and Aoi still had the their bio suits on, so the landing from such a height didn't give them much trouble. Izumo landed on the balls of his feet and managed to roll with the momentum onto his thighs, through his knees and back onto his butt. All while managing to keep all the wine bottles in the crate. Well, most of them. Two had slipped out during descent and were still up in the air. He rushed forward, leaped into the air, and grabbed them before they touched the ground. Aoi just tanked the landing and kept on his feet.

"You good?" Haruichi asked.

"Just fine." Aoi said through gritted teeth.

Kafka and Iharu were not so lucky.

Kafka also tried to roll into the fall, but messed up and landed on his foot weirdly. Iharu still hadn't let go at this point, so when Kafka fell to the ground, Iharu's knee made contact next.

"Fuck! That was a knee!" Iharu exclaimed. Once momentum seemed to stop, the two of them untangled and rolled away from each other.

"Well, that didn't look pleasant." A sly voice from away came into clarity.

"Vice Captain!" said Haruichi.

"Vice Captain, Sir." said Aoi when he felt recovered enough to speak.

"Well, shit." came from Kafka, knowing he'd been caught.

"YOU THIEVING PIECE OF CRAP!" Kikoru had made a beeline to the crumpled Iharu and began to physically berate him with her foot. "WHERE THE HELL IS MY BRADA BACK PACK?"

"Here, here! It's right here! WAIT, MY SHIT'S STILL INSIDE!" Iharu said as he handed over the stolen bag, only to realize too late that he left his gifts inside.

"I can see that! What is this? Wine? Plum wine? and a beer glass?" Kikoru took a whiff inside the mug, "A used BEER GLASS? What the hell is this doing in here?" Kikoru pulled out a ring of keys next.

"And who the hell's keys are these?' She asked. Hoshina immediately took them from her hand and looked at them in his.

"Kafka... why the hell does Iharu have my keys in a stolen back pack?" Hoshina said, gritting the words through his teeth. Kafka and Iharu looked at each other for a moment before shouting in unison

"OH SHIT! WE FORGOT THE BIKE!"

"YOU WHAT?" Soshiro screamed, hauling Hibino up by his collar.

"And is this... are there FRY CRUMBS IN MY BRADA? IS THAT A CHILE SAUCE STAIN? IN MY BRADA?" Kikoru began to weaponize the empty bag and used it to beat the already downed Iharu.

"Oh, damn. I didn't know that was Brada." Haruichi said, trying to pass by the commotion.

"Thanks Captain Obvious, I think we figured that out." Kafka retorted as he was dragged off the ground by Hoshina.

"NONE of you go too far. You all have some explaining to do." Hoshina said, gripping tightly to Kafka' forearm.

"Kikoru, I think he's had enough!" Reno said as he finally stepped into view and intervened in the one sided fight between the two of them. As he helped Iharu off the ground he asked, "Hey, are you alright?"

It didn't take Iharu very long to realize who was helping him up and immediately threw his arms around Reno's neck.

"AEDZGJNSTR, RENO! You're back! I'm so happy now!" he said as he gurgled drunkenly around his words. "I'm so happy that you're back! I was missing you all day. I'm sorry that left without youuu. I prepaid the tickets and Kafka said I should use them, so I did, but I was wishing that you were there 'cuz it was a great movie and I went to the festival without you too and it was making me sad, but I had food and I thought I would be okay and then I saw this mug and it reminded me of you-" Iharu broke away to grab the somehow intact mug from Kikoru's hands.

"It was this mug, 'cuz see! It has snowflakes on it and it made me think of you and how much I missed you and how I wanted to take you with me on the date but I couldn't and I thought about how I thought I blew my chance to tell you that I love you-" he took a big deep breath, "But Kafka and Haruichi said that I could take you to the beach and I felt happy again so the mug made me happy again because it still reminds me of you so I want you to have it." Iharu had finally stopped talking for a moment and looked deep into Reno's widened eyes with his watery, eager ones. Reno could feel his face start to burn once he slowed down all the words that Iharu had said and realized what it meant. Before Reno could even begin to tell him anything, Iharu looked like he remembered something else and turned back to a stunned Kikoru, who had been listening to the entire conversation. He grabbed the protective charm and the bottle of wine and clumsily shoved them into Reno's hands.

"Oh! Also, Me and Kafka and Haruichi and Aoi all went to this shrine that I wanted to show you because I thought it was pretty and you remind me of pretty things and when I was there I saw this charm and it has snowflakes on it, so of course I had to buy it- well, Kafka bought it, but I still want you to have it 'cuz its pretty and do you think they'll let me put this on your gun? 'cuz I think that would be cool-ohohoh! OR I could put it on the suit! That would be really cool if they let me do that. Oh and speaking of cool- looklooklook-" Iharu picked up the bottle of plum wine and showed him the label.

"This has snowflakes on it too! It's going to be a surprise when I take you on our beach date in a few weeks!" Iharu had wrapped his hands back around Reno's neck and begun to swing themselves around, causing Reno to put his already full hands on Iharu's waist to keep themselves upright.

"I'm going to save up my hours again and when we go to the beach, we're gonna go on a picnic and I'm gonna break out the bottle and I'm gonna tell you how much I looove youuu and how much I like being around youuu and how much I like being yourrr rivaaal..." Iharu had finally stopped spinning them around and leaned all the way onto Reno, wrapping his hands tightly around his crush's shoulders.

"Doesn't that sound really nice?" He whispered, gently nosing the shell of Reno's ear.

Reno felt like he was shaking. Whether from shock or excitement, he wasn't sure. He took the bottle that was still in Iharu's hand and tightened his around the sleepy drunk's waist. He felt his face flush even harder, blood flooding his brain and making his ears and shoulders feel like a million degrees in the cool night air. Burying his face into Iharu's shoulder, Reno confessed his only thought on his mind.

"That... sounds amazing, Iharu." But Iharu wasn't listening. Having fallen asleep, nuzzled into Reno's neck and breathing softly, almost snoring.

"Well, wasn't that a touching display." Hoshina said sarcastically, not one to let the quiet stand infinitely. "He's still getting a hefty reprimand, as well as you." He said, directing the last bit of statement to Kafka, which he was now holding by the ear.

"What the fuck possessed you to write in three hundred AND THIRTY SIX HOURS? DID YOU THINK YOU COULD HONESTLY GET AWAY WITH THAT? AND YOU LEFT MY BIKE BEHIND?" Hoshina said as he began to drag Kafka away, causing the rest of the group to cringe in response to the abuse.

"Forget a week of janitorial duty! It's a month- no, three months! And you can forget the office sex too!" Aoi and Haruichi were nodding along solemnly to what Hoshina was saying, mentally grieving for Kafka and any spare time he would've had, only to snap back to reality at the last bit of punishment.

"Oh, come on! It was a joke- wait, lets thINK ABOUT THIS!" Kafka cried, 'Three months for a joke is a bit much, don't ya think! I'll get the bike back, I swear!"

"YOU CAN'T EVEN DRIVE IT! If you keep arguing, I'll cut out the blowjobs too!" Hoshina said sternly, still dragging Kafka away. His cries of disappointment were heard all the way to the guard house.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\ Bonus/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"You sure you don't want help with that?" Kikoru asked, carrying her (apparently) expensive black back pack and a couple plastic bags of food that Aoi got her at the food festival.

"No thank you, I'm good." Reno said as he struggled to carry an asleep Iharu, the items he got for him, and the bags of food that Aoi also got for him.

"Are you at least aware that you have to make a left turn in about twenty feet?" Kikoru retorted, smiling smugly at all the trouble that Reno was going through to not disturb Iharu's sleep.

"Yes, Kikoru, I know where I'm going. A fair bit better than you, since you still can't remember where the front door is." Kikoru snobbishly stuck her nose in the air at the insult.

"The front door was always down and to the right of the of the mission personnel lockers. It still seems stupid that they would change the layout in such a drastic manner."

"Whatever Kikoru. Have a good night." Reno turned to go into the male barracks as Kikoru parted to go to her side of the building.

He walked into the area holding the bunks and put Iharu down on Reno's bed since Furuhashi slept on the top bunk. Reno knew better than to try and get him up there by himself. He set him down as gently as he could, making sure not to catch any of the gifts under Iharu. Reno set his stuff down and leaned over to put the deeply asleep soldier's feet on the bed, and since he was down there, took off Iharu's shoes too. Carefully wrenching the sheets out from under the body, Reno tucked him in as gently as possible. Getting shocked for a moment when Iharu shifted and grabbed the blanket from Reno's hands, but when all Iharu did was tuck the sheet under his chin, Reno let out the breath he didn't know he held.

Not wanting to leave him alone so soon, however, Reno took a pillow from another bunk and placed it on the floor about where Iharu's head was. Getting to the floor as carefully as possible, he sat down on the pillow and opened the bags of food, courtesy of Aoi. He rummaged around quietly and started to pull out some of the goods based on what seemed more delicious at the moment, eventually pulling out a large, marked takeout box that just said 'kaiju squid' on the top.

Before he opened it, he felt a hand lightly smack him on the back of the head. Reno turned around, thinking that he somehow ended up waking Iharu, only to see that he was just shifting in his sleep. A hand was now exposed from its place from under the covers and was hanging limply from the bed's edge. Thinking for a moment, Reno gathered some courage and bravely placed Iharu's hand on the top of his head. In doing so, he could feel Iharu's fingers lightly twitching in his hair, almost like it was trying to brush through it in his sleep. Reno just smiled and went back to his midnight meal.

(holy fucking shit, I did it! I got this made! World, prepare to meet my first public fanfic.)

[sunshinemoonrx]

GoGoV 3-8

A land of contrasts.

Also hey nobody ever mentioned this show has old man yaoi in it?

Like???

Anyway, I do like the layers and incomplete resolutions here. The siblings have a lot of history and a lot of elements to how difficult their relationship with their dad (and sometimes each other) is, and they can have moments of catharsis and fixing little bits of it without everything being forgiven completely. The villains also being siblings is the world's most obvious parallel setup, so I can't wait to see how shit their mom is to them when she shows up.

I think the family setting is what lends itself to a more noticeable than usual aura of "oh right, gender in mainstream society, unfortunately", but like...tempered, I guess? There's no outstandingly misogynistic moments, just little things like the general background assumption from Matsuri's brothers that she'll make food for them since their mom is gone. But then, unthinkingly demanding stuff of people is an established trait of Matoi's...but that only covers part of it...well, I partly forgive them for also demanding their dad does it. And he continues to do it in subsequent episodes! And always in this frilly apron. So. Some points.

Also on the upside, I really like Kyoko--I wonder if Takegami Junki (big-name anime writer btw!) is a Sun Vulcan fan, cause they also had an "energetic girl connected to the team who wills her way into being the honorary extra ranger sans suit" character, and I know this show is gonna go farther than that one in sorta making good on that.

Very funny she says this an episode before Shou almost quits the team. What if we'd just had our new GoGreen right then and there. But yeah, generally there's a lot more of an expanded cast and sense of overall setting than I expected from the opening two-parter, which is cool!

Anyway more Dinus cause she's killin it. Wish your evil lair footage wasn't shot on the world's lowest quality early digital film sorry girl

So true Matsuri. Also hey what did you mean by this 🎤

[shadowqueenjude]

What if Elide brought home a cat? I wrote this at 3 AM so enjoy I guess🥰

Elide peered at the shivering black street cat and she couldn’t let him go. He was a little runt with mussed up fur. Elide bent over and scooped him up into her arms. He was so small; he fit perfectly in Elide’s arms. As Elide walked back to her home with the cat in her arms, she remembered a recently passed friend whose animal form had been a large cat. Though this cat was not so big or fearsome looking, he had the same spirit. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Gavriel? Yes, you are!” Elide winced as the cat mewled and scratched her arm in retaliation. “You dare scratch a lady?” Elide shouted back at the cat, as if it could hear her. The cat only responded with louder mewling, and Elide sighed. “I’ve traveled alongside the most powerful men and women in the world. I will not be defeated by the likes of you.” The cat stared at her imperiously with its yellow eyes, and Elide could’ve sworn the cat was saying, “You’ve already been defeated, fool.”

Lorcan was in the kitchen when Elide returned; he was fully clothed, which was rather unfortunate but a problem easily remedied. Something smelled good, and Lorcan’s face brightened when he noticed Elide, until he noticed what Elide had in her arms.

Elide’s jaw dropped as the most powerful man in the world went pale- pale- at the cat in her arms. “Where in Hellas did you get that?” he demanded. And that old rebelliousness she had felt in their early acquaintance when he had used that very tone with her came back. “I am the Lady of these lands. I don’t have to tell you anything, Lorcan.”

“I am your husband!” he protested. “Exactly. My husband. Which means you are mine for me to do as I please with.” Lorcan shook his head. “I…prefer dogs.”

Elide tilted her head curiously. “Sounds like there’s a story behind that, Lord Lorcan Lochan. Care to share?”

His face turned red. “Cats are always so rude. Stealing your food you worked so hard to acquire. And they scratch you too.” Elide laughed gently. “You faced the demon queen who kept you enslaved for centuries, but you draw the line at adopting a cat?” Lorcan scowled at her; to anyone else, that expression would be terrifying, but to Elide, it was like staring at a giant, grumpy puppy. She walked over to him, placing a hand to his cheek to smooth out the frown lines. “Come now, Lorcan. Surely you can’t say no to this face?” She wiggled the wet cat in front of him. 

Lorcan’s face looked strained, like he was tortured about this highly unimportant decision. “The cat’s face, I can. Yours, on the other hand…” Elide smiled sweetly, fluttering her eyes at him, and Lorcan squeezed his eyes shut. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Being…you.”

Elide put her hands on her hips. “Excuse me?” Lorcan’s eyes opened, and he groaned. “Stop that, goddamnit.”

“I’m not even doing anything.”

“Yes, you are. You…you’re irresistible, for gods’ sake. I can’t say no to you. But I have to. We are not getting a cat.”

Elide widened her eyes innocently. “But I already named him Gavriel.” 

Lorcan stared at her long and hard. “You are going to be the death of me, Elide,” he whispered. “I love you too, handsome.” Elide left him bumbling and flustered while she gently placed the cat down on the plush carpet beside the sofa. “There, just right for you, Gavvy!” Elide declared. She heard Lorcan’s audible sigh at the nickname, and Elide giggled.

She skipped back to the kitchen, and Lorcan stared at her arm, something like fury twisting his features. “Honey, what is it?” “He hurt you,” Lorcan said in a low voice, barely repressed rage there. He lifted her small arm in one of his enormous hands, and goosebumps traveled up Elide’s arm, and she wanted those hands to wander elsewhere-

Then that hand slipped away, and Elide saw the scratches were gone. “This is why I hate cats,” he muttered, and Elide couldn’t help but laugh. “Darling, it was a scratch. It was nothing. Relax, you overprotective brute.” Lorcan crossed his arms. “Fine,” he grumbled. “But I don’t like Gavriel. The cat, that is.” Well, Lorcan had once claimed similar things of the first Gavriel before he’d tattooed his body in his honor, so Elide knew not to take his word at face value. “It’s ok, I can take care of him.”

“Ok.”

The two of them wound up cuddling on the couch, where Elide began pleasantly drowsy. Just before she fell asleep, she could’ve sworn she heard Lorcan mutter to Gavvy the cat, “You’d better behave yourself boy, or we’re going to have issues.” 

The cat turned out to be a pain.

Every time Elide tried to feed him, he’d try to bite her, and every time Lorcan would grab Gavriel and pull him away from her, scolding him like a son. “Stop biting my wife!” He’d chastise him while Gavvy just stared at him unbothered. 

Which was why it was a shock to find Lorcan in the kitchen a week later, shirtless with Gavvy perched on his muscled shoulder. “Elide, sweetheart! Your dinner is on the table!” Elide blinked, turning to the food indeed sitting in the table. “Who in the world are you cooking for, then?”

“Well we ran out of cat food and Gavvy here has spent too long on the streets eating second-rate food, so I thought my man deserved some homemade food.” Elide speed-walked over to the kitchen and found, to her utter shock, fish cooking. “You’re not serious.” But Elide knew he absolutely was. Lorcan wasn’t exactly a practical jokester. “Yes, I am. Isn’t that right, Gavvy?” And Elide’s jaw dropped as her cat purred- purred in her husband’s presence. 

“What did you do to him?” Elide demanded, staring at her husband and her cat as Lorcan absently reached up a hand to stroke his head, which was answered with more purring. “Nothing. He just recognized a kindred spirit.” Both associated with darkness. Both grown up abandoned and fighting for scraps on the streets. Both saved by her. How did she not put it together before now? Gavvy might be a cat like her friend’s animal form, but his spirit was similar to Lorcan’s. 

In truth, they made an absolutely adorable pair. “I’ll win you over yet,” Elide whispered to Gavvy, who merely eyed her suspiciously. She scowled. “Traitor. I was the one who brought you here.” Lorcan chuckled. “Jealous, Elide?” 

“Not in your wildest daydreams,” Elide crooned. “Both of you are mine, and soon you will know it.” 

Elide stomped away, but the main emotion in her heart was love. It was absolutely adorable to see the two of them together. Did she just fall for him again?

Well, it looks like Lorcan is a cat person after all.

[angelmelon]

MEET ANGELICMELONNNN

hi guys it’s me hit artist Angelicmelon He/It pronouns

I used to be called CheezyBakedRat on Amino. If anyone remembers this very niche era of our life DNI/hj

3rd gen Irish Diaspora living on Shawnee land, plan to move to Ireland with my beautiful partners and my service doggy, Little Melon when I turn 18 or soon after for the better disability benefits and connection to my ancestry

I am a veiling Satanist, I only veil part time but I aspire to begin veiling full time one day!! I veil as a spiritual protection, I find it gives me a clearer mind and clearer energy

My favorite fruit is watermelon 🍉, though I like many other fruits and foods!! I like pomegranate, macaroni and cheese, chocolate hummus, mint ice cream, all things sweet, and I make a damn good Waraq Dawali (I think. I know I will end up very embarrassed when an actual Middle Eastern person tries my Waraq Dawali recipe.)

I am pro 🇵🇸!! If you support the displacement or harm or death of indigenous people in any capacity DNI. In other words, if you support Israel DNI. You do not belong on my page and I will eat you

Other DNI Criteria include:

🍉 Endogenic systems or any other genic that is not traumagenic systems. System hopping is not real stop being delulu 😭🙏

❤️ TERFSSSSS!!! BOOOOOO GET OFF MY PAGE YOU PUS POSTULE COVERED ARBYS BAG GREASE PLAGUE ERA VAMPIRES!!! TRANS PEOPLE EXIST!!!

🍉 Fundamentalist religious folks of any kind!! I am chill with pretty much everyone of every religion!! However, I do not feel comfortable nor safe around fundamentalists. This may mean many things to many people, but the definition for this page is any religious person who proselytizes to others unprompted, or any religious perosn who utilizes their religion for purposes of eugenics, discrimination, or other forms of hatred rather than the love and respect religion is supposed to entail. I’d also prefer not to interact with any person who deems proselytization necessary; not necessarily to me, I already said that. Just deeming “spreading the word” to people necessary. You can do that with good actions, you don’t need to with missions or money.

❤️ this should be very common sense considering literally everything I have said up to this point but IF YOU HAVE WEIRD GROSS FETISHES BOOOOOOOO GO AWAY I am a minor 🙅 I guess some people apparently don’t care about that which reminds me IF YOU LIKE MINORS BOOOOOO DIE 🖕❌ I AM APPROACHING YOUR LOCATION AS WE SPEAK

🍉 non casual Hazbin fans. If you defend Vivzie go away 💔

oh yeah BYF

🍉 I am very VERY mean I apologize I am not exactly the most well socialized person

❤️ I WILL post and reblog Palestine and other humanitarian related things related things, regardless of graphic nature. People should be well familiar with what’s happening in Palestine right now, and I think people should know if they don’t already. I will make sure to reblog any educational posts I see!!

🍉 I make a lot of jokes at the expense of certain Christian denominations, I was raised Catholic and have quite abit of Christian religious trauma expanding beyond my raised denomination. Chances are if I bully your denomination it’s because the church unfortunately traumatized me somehow. I hold no ill will towards any person, but the institutions done screwed me up

❤️ I am a OSDD-1B haver and system. Will not talk about it much. Though if another alter posts something, be nice!!

🍉 HUGE oversharer. Like huge huge oversharer. I will tone it down from how I am in other spaces because iiiiii frankly don’t want my immediate family to know I have a Tumblr page 😭💔 you might be wondering how would they find it?? They would Not I am simply paranoid

❤️ I AM TAKEN X2!!! Shoutout to my lovely beautiful partners, neither of which follow me on Tumblr. It’s okay I only just started actually using this account 🙏 they’ll probably follow me in the future

🍉 may use this account to practice Arabic skills just abit, i have been learning!! Please, do critique my skills, it helps me learn!! Marhaba, esmi Angelicmelon!! wahadhih safhati ealaa Tumblr!!! 🫶

❤️ if you make transphobic BS and make it public I will comment on it sorrryyyyyyy jk not sorry 🖕

🍉 OH YEAH OH YEAH i have certain words that can trigger my Vasovagal Syncope, I can’t exactly say them and I don’t blame people for posting about them without knowing but know I will avoid certain posts like the plague

🍉🍉🍉 thank you for being on my page!!! 🍉🍉🍉

[seizethedre]

(In the Land of Gods and Monsters)

Chapter Five: I Don't Really Wanna Know What's Good For Me

Alastor's an asshole. But maybe this time he also happens to be right about something. And since when did taste-testing desserts become such a compromising task?

Or, Lucifer has a bit of an overthinking problem and having a certain Radio Demon can be oddly therapeutic.

Something that should be understood, first and foremost, about a guy like Lucifer is that he’s old. Like, really old. You wouldn’t be able to guess as much from the looks of it, but he’s been alive a long, long, long, long time. A certain perk of eternal life is being able to experience the luxuries of mortal inventions throughout the ages.

First there was sex, which clearly had been skipped over in Heaven 101. But Lucifer had always been fond of learning new things and the department of carnal pleasures was one that he frequented often in the earlier years after he fell. Yup, he was quite the pro when it came to all things in, out, under, over, and around. Lucifer was never one to deny himself the simpler joys of existence, after all.

Then of course there were the more mental and emotional passions bred by humanity. This of course included literature, the arts, dancing, and music. Lucifer had been particularly interested when man became civilized enough to express themselves outside of simple oral communications. As a being of creation himself, the angel was intrigued by what they came up with.

 Little was ever divulged about the Plan past the series that took place in the Garden, so the unfolding of events was just as new and exciting to him as the creation had once been. And despite him only being able to see the messy dregs of the human world, it was quickly evident that even a spark of humanity was enough to inspire creation of some degree in each sinner that headed his way. He often wondered how they did it: they knew so little and had no grace to aid them in conjuring and transforming. But humans were gifted in their own right and the things they came up with, whew, it was breathtaking . 

Admittedly, Lucifer’s own fascination with and knowledge of  the arts came from his study of some of history’s greatest artistic talents. Well, those unfortunate enough to wind up in Hell at least.

It’s true that  most of those guys headed upstairs, but every few decades or so, maybe once or twice a century, some poor soul–Michelangelo, ever heard of him?-- got just a little too greedy, too proud for their own good and eventually landed themselves sitting in on a one-on-one with the Devil himself discussing the pros and cons of en plein air practice versus studiowork, or the benefits of oil paints versus temperas.

 It was all very new and thrilling, this  endeavor, one that drove him to rediscover and reconsider the itch he’d always had to create something, anything, and everything. He had always used his hands when creating things, used them to channel energy and grace, guide that power into something malleable and solid, but this provided a fresh take on that. Now he was literally using his hands as a means to bring something into being. Sure his art was neither as grand or imposing as, say, a new solar system or mountain ranges that spanned across entire continents, but their emotional significance carried a similar weight in his heart and in his being.

So humanity turned out to be a bit craftier than he had originally given them credit for, and in no subject did that become more evident than when it came to their cooking. Having created and placed a lot of the animals and herbs, Lucifer knew that the intention was for all of them to be used or consumed in some shape or form, but father was he astonished to find out just how many different ways man would learn to mix things up. 

While he himself had grown a particular affinity for the foods at the sweeter end of the culinary spectrum, Lucifer could admit that he was more than willing to try it all. And boy was there a lot to try. From regional dishes, to vegan diets, specialty dishes and fine dining, there was always something new and trendy to taste. He’d even given cannibalism a try once, albeit unknowingly at the time, and although he wasn’t keen on repeating that particular meal any time soon, he could admit, if only ever to himself, that it hadn’t been half bad.

Eating was a unique experience indeed. It was one of those practices, among many others such as sleeping and bathing, that Lucifer didn’t necessarily need to do, but he liked to do it nonetheless. By extension, cooking was another activity that Lucifer found himself dedicating countless time towards mastering. Much like art, being in the kitchen surrounded by the smells and tastes was oddly therapeutic for him. It allowed him to feel grounded and fulfilled, especially when he was able to share his cooking with other people. He found that there was little conflict or misunderstanding that couldn’t be resolved with some homemade, love-infused cooking, which is exactly why he tended to schedule cooking parties whenever things between the Sins became a little too rocky.

He’d said it before and he’d say it again: life in Hell wasn’t all bad. Especially when every new age of sinners brought with them all of the new advancements and improvements they’d gathered throughout their lives on earth.

Sure the gratification of participation was a little delayed, almost like the largest most complex game of telephone in the universe, but Lucifer got a taste of it all eventually. In some form or another,  that’s all that really mattered in the end. 

All this to say, and Lucifer really didn’t mean to toot his own horn–then again he wouldn’t be the embodiment of Pride if he didn’t every so often give it a little honk– but over his many years of living and partaking of the varied fruits of man's labors, he had come to develop what some would call a refined palate. In his own words, he would call it damn near perfect, exquisite even. You could throw an entire grocery store into a blender and feed it to him through a bendy straw and he would still be able to name every single thing in there, down to the molecules. Yeah, he was pretty good. But that also meant he was a little picky. Just a tiny bit, but rightfully so; he was the King after all. Having tried all the foods, he knew quality when he saw it, could smell it from miles away, and if he were to indulge in food not made by his own hands, then he expected to be wowed. And if this food, pastries no less, was to be served at his daughter’s event in the hotel that she owned and operated, then he’d be damned twice over if he allowed anything but the best to pass through the front entrance.

My my, this taste testing session would be fun indeed.

And, well, okay, maybe it was supposed to be fun, but the chiming of the little bell was drowned out by a casual little jazzy number that quickly reminded Lucifer that he wasn’t exactly alone on this errand anymore. In fact, he was so graciously accompanied by Alastor, and doesn’t this guy hate sweets anyways, and that could only mean that this business meeting would be neither fun nor easy nor an agreeable one. 

Lucifer felt uneasy for reasons not completely unknown to him. Although he’d done his best to shake it off, his palm still tingled with the remnants of holy power that he’d felt when he grabbed Alastor’s staff. Paranoia wasn’t exactly a word that Lucifer would often use to describe himself, I mean a lot of other words could be used, sure, but that was rarely ever one of them. And let’s get one thing clear here: there is very little both in Heaven and in Hell that could cause irreparable damage to him, so that meant that there really was no problem big enough that he couldn’t face. 

Would he consider the Radio Demon in particular to be a problem? Hardly. The guy couldn’t displace a single hair on his unholy head if he threw his entire arsenal at the angel. Now, as for his reasons for hanging around Charlie, Lucifer didn’t doubt that there was some sort of ulterior motive behind that, but ultimately there was nothing that could be done to hurt her either, even if Lucifer wasn’t around the hotel to prevent anything from happening. Say what you will about Lucifer being a deadbeat, but he never, in her entire life, stopped keeping tabs on his daughter and her well-being. He supposed in some begrudging way, he should be appreciative that Charlie had someone like Alastor to keep the big baddies at bay before Lucifer’s residency. 

So no, Lucifer did not hate the guy. At a certain point in his seemingly endless existence, much of the energy required for true, bonafide hatred had fizzled out and at best he could really only muster up intense feelings of annoyance. Now, was the demon a massive pain in the ass? Well, that’s a whole other story entirely. But even the King of Hell had to admit that it was entertaining enough to poke at the proverbial bear from time to time. Who knows, maybe he could even get him to bite.

Point being that up until that point, he’d had no real reason to be suspicious of the demon, but this entire ordeal was definitely weird, even by Alastor’s standards. Lucifer could always waltz into the cafe and demand answers, that wouldn’t exactly be hard for someone like him to do, but experience told him that the demon was a stubborn little shit who definitely wouldn’t divulge any information willingly and for nothing in return and really it was far too early for a fight. Plus, what would Charlie think if she were to catch their little tiff escalated to a million percent live on the evening news when he was meant to be out finalizing their catering spread? 

Alastor could keep his mysteries, for now at least. But Lucifer would definitely be keeping a close eye on him. Maybe he would even do some snooping of his own. That could wait until later, they had pastries to sample first.

The sinner of the hour was poised near the register, arms crossed behind his back at the wrists, staff suspiciously absent. He seemed to be engaged in conversation with the lizard-looking man behind the counter, though by the looks of it he was probably well aware of who he was speaking to, and judging by the too-pale complexion, was probably scared shitless. Lucifer sidled up just in time to catch the end of a stuttered sentence, watching as the demon’s mouth widened, baring more of his pointed smile at the worker’s clear discomfort. Lucifer had half a mind to say something about playing nice, but this was hell after all and everyone had to get their kicks one way or another. Alastor's preferred method just happened to be sadism, but who was Lucifer to judge?

He turned his attention to the display cases that lined the entire left wall as well as what remained to the left of the register. There was a lot to see, much of it consisting of pastries big and small in all kinds of fun, lively colors. Tarts and danishes lined the uppermost shelves of the display directly in front of him, all thick and golden and flaky, dotted with diced fruit and topped with something whipped and airy. It made his mouth water, and despite the unnecessary function that food plays in his day-to-day survival, he found the pits of his stomach begging him to make up for the fact that he hadn’t had breakfast that morning. 

Curious, he pushed down the hunger in favor of touring the rest of the displays. He examined each carefully, thinking about what would best suit the needs of their event. Cookies, cupcakes, macarons, eclairs–the options were endless and truthfully a bit overwhelming. They all looked so good and clearly this place took a lot of care and pride into the presentation of their products. Lucifer could respect that, definitely. But enough chit chat: let’s feast.

Right on cue, Lucifer heard a shuffle behind the display he was currently crouched in front of and straightened himself to see that the guy who’d been manning the register was now looking down at him, looking more relieved to be in front of the Devil himself than the Radio Demon. 

“H-hello sir–I mean, your Majesty, sorry! H-How can I help you?” The poor fool looked like he was one twitch of the eye away from pissing himself and yeah, Lucifer could definitely do without that today. Unlike the heartless asshole who was still leering at the poor sinner from across the room, Lucifer took pity on the guy, averting his gaze to look over the display again before speaking up.

“Hey there, we would actually like to put in an order. A big one, actually. It’s for an Open House we’re hosting to celebrate the reopening of my daughter’s hotel on the other side of town. Ever heard of it? You’re welcome to come, actually everyone’s welcome to come, you should invite your friends, too, you know, if they’re interested. We have a bunch of new amenities available for our residents and this would be a great opportunity to get to learn more about our cause. Charlie, my daughter, could go on and on about it and I–” 

Lucifer’s rambling was cut off by a heavy hand landing on his shoulder, slender red fingertips digging lightly into the material of his coat. He glanced back at Alastor, who now stood slightly behind him, perplexed at the sudden intrusion. His crimson gaze narrowed down at him before flicking back up to look at the sinner behind the display. Lucifer’s eyes followed their lead, only now taking in the wide-eyed confusion and the redness of the guy’s face, hands frozen mid air as he clutched a pen and notepad, clearly overwhelmed by the onslaught of information Lucifer had hurled at him. 

Oopsies? 

“Please, do excuse our esteemed monarch,” the demon interjected. “This event we are hosting is rather important to our cause, as I’m sure you can understand. What our Majesty means to say is that we would like to enlist your fine establishment in catering this Open House of ours. Should your goods and services measure up to our standards and expectations, of course.” He smiled widely, which on anyone else wouldn’t seem threatening but on the demon it was downright terrifying. The lizard-demon gulped, paling again at the emotional whiplash. 

“Of c-course, Sir, your Majesty. We-we would be honored to cater this event for you. Um, what exactly were you looking for? What we have out on display tend to be customer favorites, but we do offer customizable options should you be wanting something else.” He shifted between Lucifer and Alastor, his uncertain gaze ping ponging as he waited for one of them to answer. 

“I do believe I’ll let you take the lead on this one, your Majesty. This is your area of expertise and this is your errand to run after all.” With a final squeeze of his shoulder, Alastor let go of the angel, removing himself from his immediate proximity. Lucifer looked after him as he picked his way over to one of the small tables that dotted the other side of the bakery. A green-tinged tentacle wormed its way through the shadows at his feet, pulling out a chair for him to take a seat. With a wave of his hand, the quiet plucking of piano keys seemed to start up out of nowhere in a pleasant tune. The demon closed his eyes, seemingly enjoying the quiet music. Lucifer blinked then cleared his throat, turning back to the employee.

“Um, yeah, so like he was saying, this event is scheduled for about four weeks from now. We’re expecting anywhere between one-hundred to two-hundred guests and would like a variety of pastries to cover most of their preferences. Would that be okay?” Lucifer cringed a little bit at the question he tacked on at the end, knowing full well that as King of Hell he shouldn’t be asking sinners for permission or anything of the sort, but he couldn’t help it, even after all this time. There was a little blat of feedback from somewhere behind him.

“Yes, absolutely!” The lizard demon answered animatedly, no longer looking like he was about to pass out. “It would be no problem at all, your Majesty. Did you have any particular pastries in mind?”

Lucifer looked over the displays, mulled over his options slowly, deliberately, as he weighed the mental pros and cons of each option and trapped a clawed fingertip between his teeth.

“I’m thinking cookies, for starters, maybe just a general assortment of your most popular flavors. Macarons, too. I’m not keen on serving anything too messy. Maybe some fruit tarts?” Despite knowing very well what he enjoyed out of a dessert, Lucifer wasn’t too sure what Charlie would want to serve and he really didn’t want to let her down, especially with such a simple task as this. “Actually, would you mind bringing out a few samples? Nothing too fancy, just what you think would work well in this case.” The sinner nodded, jotting down a few notes before looking back down at the King.

“Of course sir, right away. Feel free to take a seat, I’ll be right out with those samples.”

Lucifer smiled tightly, anxiety swirling in his chest as he made his way over to where Alastor still sat, neatly perched with his arms folded, eyes closed, shoulders relaxed, entirely oblivious to the turmoil going on inside the monarch. He pulled his chair out with a loud screeching sound. The sinner’s ear twitched, but that was the only acknowledgement he received. 

Lucifer tapped his claws against the tabletop, looking around the room aimlessly. It was a cute shop, no doubt about it, all clean and earthy tones with lots of sweet smells and warm lights. He tried to concentrate on his surroundings in an attempt to ease his thoughts away from how pathetic he felt for getting so in his head over fucking desserts. What did it matter what he chose? People would eat them right? This wouldn’t be the proverbial straw that would break what little relationship he was beginning to recover with his daughter. Logically, Lucifer knew all of this, but a little part of him, okay a big part of him, was still so afraid of letting her down again . Charlie, his sweet, darling daughter, in all her infinite patience and goodness deserved so much more than what he could offer even on a good day. This wasn’t fair to her by any means, but he’d find a way to pull himself together. For her. He just had to.

“You are quite the jittery little fellow, aren’t you?”

Lucifer turned to Alastor, perplexed. The sinner had leaned back in his seat and stretched out in a neat array of lengthy limbs. The music had changed to something slower, smoother, quieter than before. A man sung softly, all low and crooning drawn-out notes. The angel was unfamiliar with the tune, but liked it well enough.

“What do you mean, I’m literally just sitting here?” Lucifer wasn’t one to be self conscious, but he had started to recognize a pattern when it came to the demon calling him out on his unconscious movements. Now that , he didn’t like. Especially not when he did it like this, having opened a single red eye just to slowly drag it up and down the king’s person. Lucifer let out a huff of air, immediately stilling his hands and feet which had started to bounce up and down on their own accord while he wasn’t paying attention.

Okay, point taken.

“Sorry,” he said. He clasped his hands together and planted his feet, giving them a stern finger-wagging in his mind for their ridiculous behavior. The demon continued to watch him, side-eyeing him from his periphery.

“Apologies should only be necessary if you don’t plan on repeating said offense. I do believe that this has become quite the habit of yours, your Majesty.” Alastor waved a single hand dismissively in his direction, sliding his eye closed once more. Lucifer sulked at that, because how the hell was this guy giving him lessons on etiquette when he was, quite literally, seconds away from eating a man whole not fifteen minutes ago.

“You know,” he continued. “I do find it quite fascinating that a being of your status would feel as affronted as you are over the simple matter of narrowing down the catering menu. My, had I known sooner, I would have suggested Charlie assign you even more benign tasks from the moment you arrived.”

Lucifer sent the demon a withering look, not that he could see it, but he hoped the asshole could feel its heat.

“Not that I have to explain myself to you, Al ,” and yeah, that ear twitch was definitely done out of annoyance at the nickname. “But it’s not the catering that I have on my mind. It’s the fact that this is important to the hotel and I want to make sure we get nothing but the best.” This is important to Charlie , is what he actually meant, but he felt no desire to go barking up that tree when the Radio Demon was being so placid for the time being. But as luck would have it, the demon didn’t feel the need to maintain the peace between them.

“Ah yes, young Charlotte’s latest endeavor does seem like a most inspired idea. I’ll admit I’m rather looking forward to seeing just how many residents we glean from this Open House of hers.” Innocent enough words, and spoken sincerely enough if you didn’t know Alastor, but Lucifer could pick out the mocking tone from the other side of Pentagram City and that just wouldn’t do.

“Fuck you, Alastor.” A shrill of static interrupted the music. “You and I both know that you couldn’t give two shits about Charlie or the hotel, so what gives? Why don’t you just leave us alone?

“And leave dear Charlie to fend for herself? What kind of partner would that make me?” The demon opened his eyes and sat up, placing a hand on his chest in mock offense at the king’s words. “No, I intend to see this little project of hers through to the very abysmal end. I am a man of my word, after all, loyal to a fault, you could say, and I stand by my promises. I’m not sure the same could be said about all of us here though. So long as the Princess continues to inquire for my assistance, I’m afraid that leaving is simply out of the question. Plus, where would be the fun in that?” A wicked grin stretched unnaturally across his face, eyes darkening as the rack above his head grew. Lucifer rolled his eyes, swatting away at the waves of static that seemingly rolled off of the demon. Did people honestly find that threatening?

“Listen asshole, I don’t care what you have to say about me, but you leave my daughter out of this. She doesn’t need you, she doesn’t realize that yet, but I can promise you that the second she says the word, you’re out of here. I was her father long before you became involved and she will continue to be my daughter long after you’re gone, got it?” 

Anger had gotten the better of his control about halfway through his little speech, eyes seeping into a demonic red while he felt his horns sprout from his forehead. His tail twitched behind him, snapping in agitation like a whip. Although he wasn’t yet at the point of breathing fire, Lucifer could feel the familiar burn in the back of his throat, tasting the smoke and itching to release it. 

If Alastor was intimidated–which he definitely should be because the angel didn’t hulk out for just anyone–he didn’t show it. Instead, he opted for resuming his relaxed position in his seat, crossing his legs at the ankles and examining his pristine claws. The picture of indifference despite the king’s outburst.

“Hm,” he responded, sparing Lucifer a bored look. “I don’t understand what you’re so upset about then.” And, oh, okay. Not the response he was expecting. Like at all. 

Worst of all, the demon was right. What was he worried about? Some sinner who could be snapped out of existence with the literal blink of an eye? Hearing his irrational fears parroted back to him from someone else did make them seem a bit trivial and unnecessary. For not the first time that day, Lucifer felt the mortifying need to apologize to Alastor, but he wouldn’t give the smug bastard the satisfaction. 

He crossed his arms instead and they sat in silence, save for the quiet music emanating from the Radio Demon, until lizard-man emerged from the back room balancing a few trays of goodies on his arms. Lucifer perked up at his arrival, eager for the distraction and now with renewed vigor to complete his task.

“Sorry for the delay, your Majesty. We made sure to make these fresh for you in the back. I’ll leave you to it, but feel free to ring the bell if you have any questions or require any assistance. Enjoy.” He scuttled away to the back, sparing only a quick look at Alastor, before disappearing behind the swinging doors.

Lizard-man had brought out exactly what Lucifer had requested and then some. Tarts of different flavors, garnished in a variety of fruits and decorative shavings. Cookies, warm and oozing, fresh from the oven and smelling divine. There was a rainbow of macarons placed neatly on a platter, embellished with gold flaking and the occasional raspberry. On a separate tray were little serving cups with what appeared to be layered mousses and cakes. Lucifer’s mouth watered at the sights and choices, unable to stop himself from reaching over and plucking a strawberry from one of the tarts. Its sweetness nearly brought him to his knees and he made a mental note to include the strawberry desserts in the order.

“Oh father, that’s good,” he groaned, plopping the rest of the fruit into his mouth. He reached over for the tart that he’d stolen it from, digging in with one of the provided spoons. “It’s been ages since I’ve had strawberries. You should try one, Al, they’re good.” He was too lost in the creamy pastry to notice the way the demon’s ear twitched in irritation at the reuse of the nickname.

“I’d prefer not to, your Majesty. I do believe this is a decision you seem more than capable of coming to on your own. And as you may recall, I’m not fond of sweets.” Oh yeah, he’d forgotten that little tidbit of information in all of the anxiety and anger and excitement of recent events.

“Your loss”

“Hm, I doubt it.”

Lucifer shrugged, dropped the conversation as he went about sampling the pastries, taking little nibbles here and there but always coming back to that first tart. He conjured up a notepad and jotted down his favorite desserts, ranking them in flavor, presentation, and ease of consumption. Time trotted along in this fashion: Lucifer would try something new, assess the flavor profile, examine the structure, and decide whether or not it was good enough to serve at the hotel. On occasion, he would offer some to Alastor–-because he was a mature adult who knew how to play nice with abrasive deer-demons–-accept the declined offer and move onto the next one. 

It wouldn’t be a lie to say that Lucifer was enjoying himself. The food was good, the ambience nice, and the music was mellow and slow. He’d complain about the company, but even Alastor was behaving, content with letting the little king repeat his thorough assessment of the desserts in silence. He had crossed his arms again and closed his eyes. If Lucifer hadn’t known better, he would have assumed the demon had fallen asleep, but the occasional twitch of his ears let him know that Alastor was well aware of his surroundings. But hey, if Al wasn’t going to pick a fight then neither would Lucifer.

The angel was just about finished with his list, taking a few more bites here and there, when the back doors swung open again and the lizard-man came out with one more platter. Huh, what’s all this, then? Lucifer watched with curiosity as the man came over to their table and sat the tray down in front of Alastor this time. He bowed slightly, audibly gulping as the demon lazily opened his eyes and fixed him with a stare.

“Apologies for the delay, sir. This isn’t a popular order and we rarely make them in-house. That being said, I hope you do enjoy them, Mr Radio Demon, sir.” He bowed again awkwardly before scurrying away lest he be the next unfortunate soul to get caught up in the demon’s claws. 

Interest thoroughly piqued, Lucifer glanced at the tray of desserts that the sweet-loathing demon had supposedly ordered. There was a pot of what looked like honey set neatly to one side as well as something that looked like jam and a shaker of something white. The angel wanted to ask, was itching to, really, but held his tongue at the scrutinizing look on the demon’s face. Damn, and Lucifer thought he was a tough critic.

“They’re called beignets,” Alastor said simply as though reading his mind. “Little squares or fried dough, very popular where I was from when I was alive.” 

The angel’s eyes followed the sinner’s hands as they spread a dollop of honey across one of the steaming desserts, following it up with a cloud of what could now be identified as powdered sugar. Fascinated, Lucifer watched as the demon plucked one from the bunch and brought it to his mouth, closing his sharp teeth around a corner. He let the morsel sit in his mouth for a moment before he started to chew, slowly and thoughtfully. He swallowed and Lucifer traced the bob of his throat as he did so, his own mouth hanging open, captivated by the pageantry of it all. 

He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until Alastor set the rest of he beignet down, his eyes searching for any indication of favor or otherwise. His eyes drifted to the demon’s mouth, the creases of which were stained with sugar and the glaze of honey. The sight alone would set Lucifer off, enough ammo to fire off some snarky comment about table manners, but the angel’s mouth was, shockingly, dry. Perhaps from it hanging open for so long? He wasn’t sure, but he closed it with a snap anyway before the sinner could turn the scathing remarks on him, probably something about catching flies, no doubt. He coughed, licking moisture back onto his lips as Alastor brought a napkin up to his face, and there goes his chance to ridicule the man. Oh well, there would surely be more. 

“Good?” Only one syllable managed to croak its way out of him, and he’s lucky he got even that much.

Alastor didn’t answer him. Not right away at least. He folded his napkin back up neatly, placing it squarely alongside the tray in front of him. Only then did he look up at the king, whose ears burned under the intensity in the crimson eye’s looking him over. Alastor licked his lips, slow and deliberate, chasing the stray remnants of sweetness from them before answering.

“If I may, your Majesty, I would like to request that we add these to our order.”

“Done.” And no he didn’t answer too quickly, come on, but Alastor’s quirked eyebrow spoke otherwise. Lucifer felt that burning in his ears creep down to his face. He cleared his throat, looking down and busying himself with stacking plates in an effort to shield the glow on his cheeks from prying red demon eyes. “I mean, yes of course. I suppose I can allow it. You did accompany me on this errand after all.”

Alastor’s eyebrow quirked up even further, his eyes narrowed.

“Just like that? You’re not going to try one first?”

“Nope, no need. I trust your judgment, Al. No need to turn everything into an argument after all, right? Ha ha,” he trailed off with an awkward laugh, unease creeping into the atmosphere. Alastor’s eye twitched, mirroring one of his ears as he stared down the king and suddenly he felt very much like a metaphorical beignet under the red microscope of the demon’s scrutiny. 

Thankfully, it didn’t last too much longer as the sinner rose from his seat with a flourish, all bright eyes and smiles as he brushed himself off.

“Very well then! I’ll give our requests to dear Milton and then we can be on our way.”

“Milton?”

“Milton. You know, the nice gentleman who’s been helping us this morning? You really should be working on that memory of yours in your advanced age, your Majesty. I do believe it’s the first to go.”

And yeah, Alastor may be an asshole, but perhaps not the only one.

A few minutes later, the pair of them were headed out the door and back down the street, order confirmation tucked into Lucifer’s vest pocket as something jazzy and spirited kept time to their pace. Neither one of them said a word, merely watched as sinners crossed the street to avoid their path, and enjoyed the rare, comfortable silence. And if Lucifer noticed that Alastor still hadn’t conjured up his cane, then he didn’t speak a word of it.

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[lolatulips]

"... That's not a bird."

Well well well, hello there! Guess who's been having a time with Rhythm Doctor and decided to put one of her favourite little guys in there just for the fun of it!

For the uninitiated, meet Allen Impala! He was the deuteragonist to Joshua in one of my older projects, Ask Joshua Freeman. I really like him and the main cast from there mean a lot to me, so I've decided to bring them over to my mainest hyperfixation so I can have more fun putting them in situations, starting with Al!

To celebrate the occasion, I've even taken the liberty of updating his old character ref a little to better suit what I'm going for with him this time.

And what might I be going for, you may ask? Why, an Interloper, of course! Allen is a little interdimensional traveler, going to boundless places in the multiverse and across dimensions... in order to STEAL as many precious items of interest as he can.

That's right, baby! Allen is a little Cat Burglar this go around! With the help of his goggles to see whatever might be of value, he sneaks and takes in order to send his findings off to a land between dimensions, somewhere that something (or things) are willing to buy just about anything from him. In return, he gets money, games, food, and a base of operations he calls "Fort Thievery!"

Unfortunately, he ended up in Middlesea Hospital during one such attempt at an excursion and was found out as he was hiding in the vents and feasting on junk to try and curb his neverending appetite. From there, doctors asked him questions, monitored him, panicked over the unnatural speed that his resting heart rate took on, and generally made it a lot harder for him to do his job in retrieving goods to steal. But hey, it isn't all bad! At least most of these people are either nice, entertaining, or willing to get him food or aid in whatever way they can! And hey, with one quick call, the rest of his friends might be able to come on over and have some fun around here too, make things a lot less lonely around here!

Now if only he could find his phone...

I'm really so happy to introduce him to this world fr haha, please do not hesitate to ask any questions about this little goober gremlin, I'd be more than happy to answer them!

[galaxyedging]

Pero Tovar x f!reader

WC:2.4k

Warnings: Prostitution. P in V sex. Hand job.

Summary: Pero ends up in debt to a certain establishment. To pay it off, he works odd jobs. There is one job he finds the most lucrative and rewarding.

Riches Beyond Your Wildest Dreams

The cold bit at his skin as he pushed on. Those backstabbing bastards had took his coin, shoved him out of the wagon in the middle of nowhere. Luckily, he had seen some light in the distance. He was close now, he could hear the revelry coming from inside, just a little further. His lungs burned from the bitter wind. Just a little more. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, his vision darkened.

As he came to he tried to take stock of his injuries. His head throbbed. He felt a sickness creeping over him. The skin on his hands and feet still burned. Althought someone had taken great care to wrap them. The bed was soft under his broad frame. The furs over him were thick and lustrous. Wherever he was he had landed on his feet. Speaking of which, he experimentally placed his feet on the floor. They hurt but he could walk with some effort. Or so he thought, upon standing he promptly tumbled to his knees taking a tray next to the bed with him. The metal clanged to the floor making a hell of a racket. A door to his left swung open. A well dress elderly woman approach him, flanked by a very large man, he was older than Tovar but not as old as the woman. "Help him up." The woman directed. As the man helped him back into bed she spoke. "How are you feeling?"

"Not bad considering. Thank you for helping." He began to cough, his body shook with it. She passed him a cup of water. Sipping slowly his coughing subsided. "Thank you. I appreciate your hospitality. I'll be out of your way as soon as I can." A kind smile spread over her face. "You take your time."

Now he knew why she wasn't rushing him out of the door. She planned on charging for her assistance. With his coin lost she had offered to let him work off his debt at her establishment. At first he cleaned, when he got his strength back he help to move deliveries to stock the kitchen. The place was huge, he wasn't allowed to go beyond the tavern and the stables but he guessed, from the amount of food, that a lot of people stayed in the rooms on the far side of the courtyard.

One night, as he carried a barrel through the tavern, a fight broke out. Bracing the barrel on his shoulder, he punched the man who had started it, knocking him clean out with one swift blow. From then on, he was asked to help keep the peace. Now that he was around more he started to notice the large amounts of coin being handed over. Men being escorted back behind the heavy doors. It didn't take a scholar to work out what was going on. There was no judgement from Pero. It just added another layer to his job, he would now ensure that anyone going back behind those doors was sober enough to be respectful of the women. He tossed them out if they were disrespectful to any of the women, working or not. Not that they had many women visit who weren't. Except one.

Even if it wasn't unusual for a woman to walk in he still would have noticed her immediately. She was stunning. All eyes were on her as she entered. Some just flicked their attention to her for a moment, others kept their attention on her enthralled.

Pero had been keeping a close eye on the man. To a casual observer, the man would seem quite sober. Years on the battlefield made Pero's observervations anything but casual. He learned to look deeply quickly. A delay in his judgement could get him killed. Unfortunately, he hadn't passed his concerns onto the bar maid, who served the man another ale while Pero was busy with moving some barrels. The man swayed on his feet as he approached the beautiful lady in the corner.

"And how much does your company cost?"

He leered at her.

"More than you could ever afford." Came her calm reply.

"You cheeky whore!" Pero was behind him as the man stepped towards her as if to lay hands on her.

The man suddenly stopped short, allowing Pero to grab his arm to wrench it up behind him. He used the leverage to slam the man into the table next to her. She sat unbothered, as Pero escorted the man out. Pero missed how she slipped the small dagger, that she has held to the man's privates to stop him, back into her sleeve.

Pero's curiosity was now piqued. This beautiful, graceful woman who seemed so out of place was more at home than most here. Most people had turned to the noise, moved away, checked they could reach the exit if needed. She barely flinch at the violent movement he had used to subdue the man. There was the slightest reaction to the sound of crunching bone then nothing. All she did was bow her head slighty at him and thank you.

"So kind of you, Sir." Arousal shot through him at the way the word 'Sir' dripped from her tongue.

Dragging the man to the main door he threw him out into the cold, kicking him in the backside for good measure on the way. When he returned he went to the bar.

"The woman, in the corner, what do you know of her?" He asked the young woman preparing drinks.

"That's the Lady Bonfamille. Am surprised you've never met her. She must have been on one of her trips. She's quite a regular."

"To the tavern? She barely drinks!"

"No, to the brothel. She quite popular with the girls."

Thankfully the young woman was called away so she didn't see the redness of Pero's cheeks.

The rest of the night passed quietly until the owner approached Pero. "The young lady who sits in the corner, the one you have asked about? She wants to know if she can buy some of your time."

"But I'm not a…I don't..." Pero stumbled over his words.

"She will make it worth your while, you could afford to go pretty far from here on what she is offering." The owner smiled.

He mulled it over. Had he not been attracted to her from the moment he first saw her? Would he not have welcomed the chance to chase his pleasure between her legs? Not only are you offering him that chance but willing to pay him for his enjoyment.

"I will do it."

Pero was ushered through the doors and greeted by an older woman who gave him a once over with her eyes. "I suppose you'll do. You need to bathe first. We'll set you up in her favourite room."

The water was warm, sweet scented and, he had to admit, near blissful. This place gave him more opportunity to bathe but it was never a luxurious affair like this. He sunk back into the copper tub. Even dipping his head under to clean his hair. A knock came at the door.

Pero covered his generous manhood with his hands. "Erm…come in!"

His company for the evening walked into the room.

"Mmmm. Jasmine." She hummed. "I always find it so soothing. Do you agree?"

Pero was lost for words as she began to remove her dress. The layers of silk and lace dropped away to reveal her corset and bloomers.

"Yes." He swallowed thickly. "It's quite lovely." His eyes roamed her curves.

"Would you like me to wash your back?" She perched herself on the side of the tub before picking up the wash rag from the tray next to him.

When Pero nodded she pulled his shoulder forward, urging him to lean towards her. She gently ran the cloth down his back skimming the curve of his ass before moving back up to his broad shoulders then back down again. It was so soothing that Pero almost forgot that he was naked and about to have to perform for this woman. The soft touch of her hand and her breast close to his face were helping in that department. His cock swelled under the cover of his hands.

"Since we are to lay together I should really make sure you are thoroughly clean." The cloth ran up over his shoulder down his chest, over the muscles there and his at his stomach to where his hands were providing him some modesty. Pero groaned as she pushed his hands away lightly to swipe the cloth over his length as it snapped back towards his body.

"Hmmm. It looks clean enough but I better make sure." The cloth was wrapped about his girth with her firm grip. She slowly ran it up and down his length. Her breasts moved closer to his face with every swipe.

It wasn't long before Pero was trying to stop her. "Stop. My lady. If you carry on…"

"What? You'll come for me? That's exactly the idea, my good sir. Tell me, does it feel good?"

"Oh, yes. Your hand is wonderfully skilled." His voice was tight as she resumed her movements.

"Just wait until you feel how skilled my cunt is." Her vulgar words had him spilling his load into the water.

"My god!" He groaned as his hips chased her hand. His own hands gripped the edges of the tub as his head rolled back. With a final strained grunt he finish.

Later, when Pero was clean and dry with only a towel to cover his newly forming erection, he stood awkwardly by the bed. She remained unbothered as she lounged on it in her undergarments.

"How would you like to...?" It wasn't that he was inexperienced with women, he just had never met a woman like her, let alone had sex with one. His past conquests had been drunken affairs or similar arrangements to the one he was in now.

"I'm not sure, I've never been intimate with a man before."Pero's brow furrowed in confusion. "I've been curious but given my social standing it wasn't wise for me to lie with a man. An heir would have given them a claim to my life amd how I lived it. Since I had a sickness last summer, I can't bear a child."

Pero bowed his head. "I am sorry."

"I am not but you're sweet to be." She smiled warmly. "There's depths to you that most men I know don't have. I think I shall very much enjoy your company. Would you like to show me how best to enjoy it?"

Pero's cock flushed to its full size as she removed the last of her clothing. Her body screamed of a life of luxury. Her skin was smooth and unmarred. Her flesh was pillowy over her frame. Pero felt like he had been afforded a great luxury just to look at her. It became even greater when she spread her legs for him. Her cunt looked so wet and inviting, it overrode his nerves and had him positioning himself between her legs.

"Is this alright?" His brown eyes questioned.

Her only response was to guide him inside her warm heat. Pero was right about her being wet and inviting. He slid in right to the hilt with little effort. Her body welcomed him so emphatically. She moaned and gasped at his first few thrusts. Her arms snaked under his and her hands found his shoulders. Her beautiful, fully breast pressed against his chest as he thrust deeper.

"More." She gasped. "Please, Pero."

Any reservations he had about hurting the lady were thrown away. He started fucking her deep and hard. Like he would if he was the one paying. Pero may not have much in this world but his body still had its strength. He poured it all into driving his hard cock into the opulence of her cunt as it dripped around him. Just when he began to think he couldn't kept this up, that her she was just too perfect around him for him to resist filling her with his seed, her hand was shoved down between them. He felt it move near to where they were joined. Then an incredible thing happened.

Her velvet wall spasmed around him. He had never felt anything like it before, the rhythmic tug of her warm heat. He spilled himself into her with a full body shudder. He groaned so loudly he wondered if the others heard. He was supposed to be in here giving her pleasure not the other way round. He was so disoriented by the wondrous feel of her all he could do was steady himself as she continued to clench around him, steadily growing gentler as he twitched and softened.

Of all the reservations he had about doing this. The fact that he would be rendered absolutely defenceless and vulnerable never crossed his mind. Anyone could have snuck up on him in the last few minutes. He was completely absorbed by her. They could have slain him where he was rooted. He debated if he would have noticed since he was in some sort of heaven anyway.

"That was....what was that?"

"What?"

"The way your..." he wasn't sure how to refer to it with a Lady. Her cunt had had him in a death grip. "....you gripped me, inside you."

"You've never felt a woman come before?" An amused smile graced her lips. "I'm hardly surprised. So much power with so little accuracy."

Pero didn't need to understand what she was saying to feel offended. He opened his mouth to say as much.

"Don't be offended, lover. It just means I have to pay for more of your company to teach you."

Over the next few weeks, Pero made more money than he had in half a lifetime. But coin wasn't the only the riches he earned. The good lady gave him a wealth of knowledge. He learned to make a woman come with his cock, his fingers, a swipe of his tongue and a suck of his lips.

[writingsofwesteros]

Daemon woke to a golden gaze — the sun was shining and birds were singing. He took a couple of moments to blink himself semi-awake. He wasn’t used to this kind of fairytale morning — more used to his door being banged open as he was yet again accused of something scandalous or waking in his warrior’s tent. Waking so naturally and gently was a treat.

So was his little niece who was currently using him as both a personal pillow and blanket, so wrapped around him that she was. He stared down at her innocent face in soft awe, still shocked to see her again. He didn’t know what he expected to find when he landed on this isolated island but it certainly wasn’t the Realm’s Lost Princess.

He couldn’t say he wasn’t pleased though. She was such a sweetheart that she was genuinely pleased to see him on her doorstep, not hesitating to invite him to her dinner table and her bed, apologizing the entire time for the lack of finery he’d been used to and the lack of a second bed. Daemon had been utterly charmed by her.

He had just been accused of soiling Rhaenyra and his brother had been quick to exile him without giving him a chance to explain that for the most part, that evening had been chaste. He had deposited her into the Strong boy’s hands — everything after that was should be on her head. Viserys however had never been one to have his back so Daemon couldn’t say that he was surprised.

He had taken off on Caraxes immediately after that conversation, barely taking a moment to pack a bag before he left. Unfortunately, he chose to leave during one of the worst storms Kings Landing had ever seen. Honestly he was lucky enough to find a safe place to land, but to find the exact island that his missing niece had been on? Spectacular luck.

It had been fun catching up with her, her face lighting up at the chance to talk about her life on her little island, her garden and her animals now a major part of her life instead of the cunts at court.

She had explained that there was only a little settlement on the far side of the island, just a handful of families that were glad to have her and her dragon, Rūkluni, around for protection — the two of them flying out occasionally to roast pirate ships to dust. Daemon had been charmed by her pink dragon, an offspring of Meleys if he’d had to guess just based on the color and facial features.

She had been on this island since she had left the Capital in a flee, drawn to it in similar circumstances as he was. The storm had driven her and Rūkluni down and the previous owner of her little cottage had been an old, half blind woman who had welcomed the help. When the old lady was dying she gave the house and little strip of land to his niece and she had been caring for it ever since.

Daemon was happy for her. From what he could remember of her before her disappearance, the court was smothering her. There weren't any smiles or laughter back then, just a silent blank face. Now she was all joy and happiness, it becoming a physical glow from her skin.

She had become a whirlwind when he first knocked at her door, taking his wet clothing and giving him some blankets to cover himself with. Pushing him to sit in front of the fire, she had darted out the door to lead Caraxes to the cavern that housed Rūkluni before she whirled back in to push some bowls of food and drink at Daemon. At the time, Daemon had been too confused to do anything other than gape unattractively at her, still in shock.

Now, weeks into his stay with her, Daemon found himself happier than he had ever been. His niece had been glad to offer him a spot in her house, laughing at his face when she told him he’d have to work for it. Now he is being sent out to work milking cows and herding chickens, having been completely banned from her garden when he had mistakenly pulled up a tomato plant not a weed.

He wouldn’t change a thing though.

💋

Oh, i love this so much!! Thank you for that xx

having been completely banned from her garden when he had mistakenly pulled up a tomato plant not a weed.

This really is just perfect and sums him up

[anti-racist-cottagecore]

What's wrong with homesteading?

so, first off i would like to say that i'm against homesteading, not farming. the two are not the same thing and the terms should not be used interchangeably. farming is where you grow crops and rear livestock. homesteading is a lifestyle based off self-sustenance, where you live in a homestead isolated from city life.

when you start delving into the history of homesteading, it gets more and more fucked up. i guess the most famous example of homesteading would be in (so-called) america from like, 1840 to 1940. basically, the us government 'opens up' large swathes of land that weren't theirs to begin with for white settlement (it's settler colonialism, babey). the only reason that all this land was suddenly available was because the government had fucking rounded up all the native americans and killed them or put them on reservations because the government saw the plains as a 'wilderness' that could be put to better use under the plough. so they start a big old propaganda campaign to get white folks to go and get their plot of land and build a homestead because of american freedom or some bullshit.

and no, this doesn't just apply to america! with a lot of these anti-homesteading cottagecore posts, i see ppl in the notes being like 'well i'm from australia or canada so this doesn't apply to me' and um. yes it does??? australia and canada are also settler colonist states, and everyone, especially white ppl like me, should try and educate ourselves about colonialism.

also, homesteading is fucking hard. the american homesteaders found out pretty quickly that self-sufficiency is a pipe dream. but despite all of this, there's been a rise in homestead type posts in the cottagecore community, and no it isn't racist to want to go to the countryside and live in a cottage and grow your own food, but YES it is misguided at best to talk about escaping to an 'untouched wilderness' away from society with NO appreciation for the indigenous people that have lived on that land before you.

cottagecore seems to love homesteading. unfortunately there is nothing cute about homesteading. i'm not saying that there's anything inherently racist about enjoying cute pics of flowers and lambs, but saying that you want a homestead is a dogwhistle at this point since it's linked so much to white supremacism, and also nazi 'blood and land' rhetoric. it's not a good sign that so many genocidal powers seem to love homesteading. it's not a good sign if a government suddenly has loads of 'empty' land that it needs to give away and put to 'good use'. so basically, you can still enjoy cottagecore, but you should absolutely be aware of the connotations behind it and. just be mindful of the things you're saying.

so there's your answer, anon! sorry if i came off as really bitchy, it's just that my bf is native so it's kinda personal for us, and i'm always gonna be bitchy about colonialism. i promise i'm not angry with you in any way, in fact i'm glad you asked! it's always good to educate yourself! but i'd definitely encourage you to do further research and read up about it. i'm both white and not involved with farming in any way, so i'm probably not the best equipped to talk about all of this, and if you wanna find out why homesteading sucks i'd recommend finding something written from a native perspective rather than from me, white american rando on tumblr.

if any indigenous folks wanna add onto anything i've said or correct me on anything, please do so. also if you have any sources or articles that link to this because i'm exhausted and i don't have the energy to find sources atm.

[slidersimp]

maybe maverick and goose pre top gun? how they became friends or how they got their callsigns? i LOVE the one you did where ice gets his callsign on the ski trip

Ahhh thank you so much for the ask and I'm glad you like the ski trip fic! Gosh that whole thing is just a whump fest lol.

Okay! So this kind of ran away from me and maybe wasn't what you were thinking of but it is Mav and Goose pre-top gun and kind of how they became friends to that counts for something lol! I hope you like it Anon!! Maybe one day I'll write a Mav + Goose whump fic to go along with the Slider + Ice one, but we'll see. Anyways, enjoy!!

------

Maverick watched his new RIO from across the room, a slip of paper resting on the table below his hand. His last RIO had lasted him a matter of days—a new personal record for him. Maverick hadn’t been counting, but his CO had snapped the words in his face when Maverick had reported to him after the pilot had left the flight deck in a huff. As soon as they’d landed he’d jumped from the Tomcat like it had burned him, raging at Maverick for risking his life and being the most dangerous pilot he’d ever met. He’d made so much of a scene the flight deck crew had actually come over to check on Maverick as soon as he left. Unfortunately, their concern hadn’t been enough to save him from his CO’s anger, hot on the heels of his RIO’s outburst. 

Maverick had known Champ had a stick up his ass from day one, it really had only been a matter of time. This new RIO, however, seemed to be more laid back.

Nick Bradshaw. Callsign “Goose.”

He was in the center of the mess hall, tucked into the center of a group of pilots and RIOs. Normally, Maverick would’ve placed himself on the group's periphery, finding a seat at the end of the table and maybe offering a few words here and there if the group looked open to speaking to him, but Champ had wedged himself into the group, and he’d been seething at Maverick since the minute they’d landed on their last hop together a day ago. Rather than invite another screaming match, Maverick had decided to take a table to himself at the edge of the mess.

It gave him a good vantage point to people-watch. He’d been with this particular squadron for only a few weeks now. Champ had been his RIO for half of one of those weeks, another sticking with him for two and a half before he’d decided Maverick’s flying was too much for him. At least he hadn’t screamed at him when he’d made the decision, unlike Champ. Goose was another new addition to the unit, though it was clear he’d met most of the men before, likely running into them during other postings or deployments. He’d joined the unit a few days after Maverick had, after his previous pilot had opted for a career change to give his family life some stability. Goose didn’t look torn up about it, and he’d been flitting around the unit’s unassigned pilots for the past few weeks, filling in vacancies when RIOs got sick or helping out from the carrier. He hadn’t flown with Maverick yet, but it was clear everyone liked him.

He stabbed a blueberry with his fork and rolled it in maple syrup, left on his plate from the pancakes he’d devoured minutes earlier. The mess hall was surprisingly lively for breakfast, the aviators at the center talking eagerly over hot food and steaming coffee. Even from across the room, Maverick could see a bright grin lighting Bradshaw’s face. He cracked a joke Maverick didn’t hear, and one of the pilots rolled his eyes. Another punched him lightly in the arm, but the reactions didn’t dampen his smile.

Maybe he was corny, Maverick guessed. He didn’t mind a few bad jokes, and if Goose turned out to be the one RIO willing to put up with his flying, then Maverick certainly wouldn’t be looking for reasons to refuse him. Still, a hint of worry kerneled in Maverick’s stomach. Even when he’d told his joke, the smiles the other aviators threw at Goose were all fond. Amused sometimes, but generally relaxed and open. He couldn’t spot one person at the table ever giving the man a side-eye. There were a few that seemed relatively indifferent, but no one disliked him, which was much more than Maverick could say about himself. He was liked well enough on the ground, and the more daring members of the squadron liked him in the air, too, but there were some that took one look at him, his hot head and his flashiness and hated him on sight. Maverick couldn’t help but make enemies, and if he screwed up with Goose, he had an uncomfortable suspicion that he’d make quite a few more.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a burst of laughter from the aviators clustered at the table, a honking laugh carrying over the others. After a moment, he realized it was coming from Bradshaw himself, and he glanced down at the paper below his fingers, the official assignment that had Maverick paired with the RIO for their hop later that day.

He felt a wry smile creep onto his lips. “Huh.” He murmured to himself, listening as the honking laugh quieted and Bradshaw pressed his face into the shoulder of the man beside him. He looked down at the callsign printed on the paper. “Goose.”

-----

Bradshaw’s laugh, as it turned out, was not the reason for his callsign. Maverick found out the real reason about a week and a half later, hunched over a toilet in the bathroom attached to the locker room, losing his lunch fifteen minutes before he was scheduled to go on a hop.

The door creaked open somewhere behind him, footsteps sounding on the metal floors. 

“Hey, Mav, you in here?” Goose called, his voice echoing through the room. “We’re supposed to be doing preflight right about now.”

“Yeah,” Maverick called back, his voice gravelly from heaving. He hoped Goose didn’t notice. “Just give me a minute.”

“Hey man, you sound–” Goose had followed his voice into the bathrooms and he pushed open the stall door Maverick was hidden behind, his face contorting with worry. “You don’t look too good.”

Maverick shook his head, and the movement was enough to send nausea swimming through him. He dropped his head back down to the toilet and he could feel Goose’s eyes on him in tense anticipation, his body jerking as his stomach heaved, but he’d emptied the contents of his stomach minutes ago. There was nothing left in him now.

“I’ll be okay.” He mumbled, though he couldn’t lift his head, and when he opened his eyes to slits, the sight of the vomit in the toilet below him was nearly enough to send him gagging again. “I’ve got a bottle of Pepto in my locker. Maybe they can send Jinx up before us.” 

He lifted his head when Goose didn’t speak, and he saw a hard look on the man’s face.

“No way, Mav. You can’t fly like this.” He told him, “I’ll be right back. Wait here.”

“Goose, wait.” He croaked, fighting to lift his head but the other man was already gone, pushing his way out of the locker room. Maverick let his head fall back down to the toilet seat, and he focused on breathing deep as he waited for Goose to come back.

His whole body felt clammy, covered in sweat. He could feel his hands trembling, his arms shaking all the way up to his shoulders, his core still locked tight with tension. Vomiting had helped his nausea slightly, but the adrenaline that had raged through his body left him feeling ravaged, his whole body thrown off kilter without food in his system to pull him back towards some kind of equilibrium. Maybe Goose had been right about him not flying.

Maverick could only remember sitting out one flight in his life, when his father had booked an aero club plane to take him up as a little kid. It hadn’t been the first time he’d taken Maverick flying, but as a kid, Pete had jumped at every opportunity to go. He’d woken up in the middle of the night before sick to his stomach from something he ate and he’d spent the rest of the night in the bathroom. His mother had found him in the morning and had gently told him he’d better stay home, despite his sobbing protests. Both she and his father had promised him there would be other times, that he’d get another chance to fly with his father. Little did they know, his father wouldn’t return from his next deployment a few months later.

He forced in a deep breath, pushing the thoughts from his mind. There were already tears in his eyes, forced out when he’d gagged earlier, and he wiped them away with a trembling hand. There was no way in hell he was going to cry in front of the RIO he’d been flying with for hardly more than a week. 

“Hey, Mav?” The door creaked open again just as he was getting a handle on his breathing, Goose’s voice echoing through the empty locker room again. “Still here?”

“Still here.” He confirmed glumly, his cheek still resting on the toilet seat. If he wasn’t so sick already, he’d be disgusted, but it was cool against his clammy skin, and he found he didn’t have the energy to care. Goose had definitely made the right call.

“I told Buck you were throwing up. They’re going to have to shift the schedule around but they’re giving you the rest of the day off.” He’d made it back to Maverick’s side, and Maverick slowly lifted his head as Goose stopped in the doorway of the stall. He watched the other man crouch down, reaching out a hand to set it on his shoulder, nevermind that his shirt was damp with sweat. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Much to Maverick’s astonishment, Goose didn’t just leave Maverick to fend for himself after he’d delivered his news. Rather, he heaved Maverick upright to stand, wrapping an arm around him when he wobbled, his vision clouding with dark spots for a moment. Goose flushed the toilet and helped him back to the locker room, helping Maverick down onto one of the benches. Thankfully, he didn’t go so far as to undress him, but he told Maverick he needed to take a shower and waited with a stony expression on his face until Maverick started to comply. Goose tucked Maverick's clothes away in his locker, handed him his towel and helped Maverick to the shower, an arm out like he was worried he’d fall.

“I’m fine, man. I promise.” Maverick told him, though in reality he felt woozy and more than a little sick despite the distinct lack of anything in his stomach, but he wasn’t going to admit that to Goose.

“You look like you’re going to pass out.” Goose told him, casting him a wary glance. He backed off when Maverick tugged the towel from his waist and tossed it haphazardly onto a hook, starting the shower in front of him. The water came out blessedly cool, and after he got over the shock of it hitting his bare skin, he nearly groaned in relief. 

“I’ll be fine.” He promised, dropping his head to let the water wash over his hair. He knew Goose was still standing behind him, watching him with that wary, concerned look of his, but he didn’t care. He’d never been one for modesty even when he was younger, and the Navy had properly whipped any tendency towards it out of him.

“You don’t sound too convincing.” Goose told him. Still, Maverick could make out the sound of his boots on the tiles and when he looked back, Goose was laying back on one of the benches across from the showers, his hands folded behind his head, his eyes on the ceiling. Maverick couldn’t help but stare at him, the sound of the water slapping on the tiles the only sound in the room.

“You don’t have to stay.” Maverick told him, turning back to face the wall again in case Goose looked back over at him. “I’m sure there’s somewhere else you’d rather be than looking after my ass. You don’t have to take care of me just because we’re flying together.”

Any of the other guys would’ve left already. The most they’d do was spread the word that he wouldn’t be flying and let him know he was off the hook, then they’d worry about themselves. Champ probably would’ve cheered if he found Maverick sick to his stomach, and he certainly wouldn’t have stuck around to help him. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had tried to take care of him, or had been more than the slightest bit concerned about his well being. 

“I know.” Goose promised. Maverick felt eyes on his back, and when he dared a glance over his shoulder, the RIO gave him a soft smile. “I’m right where I want to be.”

He stayed on the bench while Maverick showered, following behind him when he headed back for his locker and handing him clean clothes from his locker while he sat on the bench in front of it. Once he was dressed, Goose walked him back through the carrier halls to his bunk and pointed Maverick to it as soon as they were in the room. Protesting would be a losing battle, so he went without complaint. 

Still, Goose didn’t leave. He took Maverick’s boots and flight suit once he’d tossed them off and returned the suit to his locker, setting the boots neatly nearby so Maverick could reach them if he needed them in a hurry. He brought Maverick a plastic bag—in case, y’know, Goose had told him—a water bottle, and a little sleeve of crackers, though he couldn’t even begin to guess where he’d gotten them. 

Maverick took all the items with confusion, setting them atop the blanket as he dragged himself beneath the sheet. He watched with astonishment when Goose ducked from the room and came back with a book in hand. He still wasn't leaving.

“Why do they call you Goose?” He asked, blinking as the RIO flicked off the overhead light, plunging the room into darkness. “Where did it come from?”

Goose settled himself on the bunk across from Maverick’s, flicking on the little reading light in the bunk. When he looked towards Maverick, shrouded in darkness while the light shone on Goose’s face, there was a hint of color in his cheeks.

“It’s short for Mother Goose.” The man confessed, he gave Maverick a smile, “partly because of how I laugh, and because I like to tell stories, but I guess I have a tendency to dote on people. In flight school it was my whole thing.”

Maverick rolled over onto his side, burrowing a little deeper into his bed, but he gave Goose a little hum of acknowledgement. 

“I’ve been told I can be a little much. I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s not too much.” Maverick promised. He felt his eyes already drifting shut, Goose’s attention lulling him into a peaceful calm. “Most people don’t give a shit about me. Everyone who flies with me is gone in a month or less, and they all say I’m dangerous, that I shouldn’t have been given a license, that I shouldn’t even be in the Navy. I’m used to looking after myself.”

“Well, your flying is definitely something, but I don’t think you're dangerous.” The words made him open his eyes, and he found Goose watching him through the darkness. He met Maverick’s gaze and held it. “I’m not gonna quit on you, Mav. You don’t have to be on your own anymore.”

Maverick felt himself draw in a breath. He’d had RIOs tell him they’d stay before, only to leave once they realized they couldn’t take it, they couldn’t take him. He didn’t want Goose to be one of those. He didn’t want to deal with any more promises broken.

“Goose–”

“You don’t have to say anything, Mav.” Goose told him gently. “I’m sticking around. I mean it.”

There was a seriousness in his eyes, something that told him Goose was seeing him, actually seeing him for everything he was. Duke Mitchell’s kid, a hothead, dangerous, arrogant, a maverick, but loyal, committed, smart, good. Goose didn’t look away.

“Get some sleep, Mav. I’ll be here.”

Maverick watched him for a long moment, and he felt himself nod, settling back into the bed. Goose turned his attention to his book and Maverick drifted off to the hum of the ship, and the occasional brush of turning pages. When he woke, it was to one of the other pilots throwing a fit at the sight of Goose lounging on his bed, but he was still there, just like he said he’d be.