#we get screen proof of the Jiggle

[jizzlords]

good morning sinners i gotta call attention to the way ozzie not only has cake but that thing's Animated

[harisenbon]

Happy white day!

Here’s the first chapter of If There Was A Hole. I never came up with a better title for this, hahaha. 

Anyway, the first chapter is below. Hope you enjoy the little preview. I’ll put it all up in one go to AO3 when I finish writing it. Thanks for finding your way here and happy White Day!

Summary:

You're a Demon Slayer who got poisoned and you end up in Rengoku's house, paralyzed. Unfortunate.

_____________________________

If there was a hole, I’d crawl in it. 

“Look, it’s either we put you there or you die. Yeah?! I know it’s scary! I know! I don’t want to take you there, either! Do you have any idea how deep my fear of that family goes? But the crow that went to inquire got permission, so we’re going. No other choice.” 

All you were aware of was the feeling of your feet jiggling around on your slack ankles and the noises made by the person whose back you were being carried on. He was talking to himself. You slipped in and out of consciousness and it could have been four hours that had passed, or four minutes. 

The last thing you remembered was collapsing from pain, a saber-like tooth as thick and long as a chopstick having crunched all the way through your forearm before breaking off and getting left behind there. Must have been some kind of poison because the pain… oh, the pain. 

Silently, you realized you were alive, which was a shock and surprise. Someone must have felled the demon but it hadn’t been you, on the verge of getting turned into dinner right before you passed out. Your eyes wouldn’t open but the heat on your back felt like the sun. Not only could you not feel your body, but your muscles wouldn’t respond, your whole body limp like a rag doll. Before you drifted away again, you estimated that you’d been given something for the pain, because oh…

That pain had felt as though it had lit your bones on fire from the inside. It was the only thing you could remember. 

The next thing you knew was darkness. It was nighttime when you awoke but your eyes quickly adjusted, the room around you coming into focus in the silvery moonlight that filtered in through the screen door. You were in a small tatami room and you were tucked neatly in a futon. An unfamiliar smell of a charcoal brazier from somewhere was the only immediate proof that you weren’t dreaming and that you weren’t in your own home. 

Wincing, you tried to sit up but your muscles still wouldn’t respond. Your mind immediately panicked– had you been kidnapped? Your eyes searched the room for your weapon, nowhere to be seen. Paralyzed and unarmed– not your favorite combination. Inexplicably mad, you managed to ball your hand into a fist.

“Fuck!!!”

A moment late, you discovered your voice worked just fine. At your sudden curse, you heard footsteps quickly approach from outside the door and you held your breath, terrified. 

A young boy stood in the doorway, no older than maybe thirteen. You immediately made a face, regretting yourself. But he didn’t say anything to you, running back down the hallway in a hurry. 

“Doctor!!” you heard him call out, and you tried to fix your eyes on a spot on the ceiling, embarrassed. 

Answers to the questions you inevitably had:

You were in fact, not dead. A surprise.

The boy’s name was Rengoku Senjuro-kun. He was twelve years old. 

“Rengoku,” as in the Hashira.

Senjuro-kun was not himself the Hashira in question. 

No, you would not be permitted to 1: Commit seppuku, or 2: Escape at first light for the crime of having barged into a Hashira’s home. 

Your arm was fractured and you’d been anesthetized with a curious drug. 

You had also been poisoned. The antidote was administered shortly upon your arrival. 

Despite the antidote, you would remain mostly immobile for at least another five days. Temporary paralysis was an expected after effect. 

You had been brought to the Rengoku house because it was the closest possible place to bring you, as your life had been in danger. 

Even though you were unable to move, Senjuro assured you politely that he would tie you up if you mentioned the idea of seppuku or secret escape again. 

Despite the inability to move your limbs, you could, unfortunately, talk Senjuro’s ear off, which you gladly did for the next approximately thirteen hours. 

Things you learned about Rengoku Senjuro-kun in thirteen hours of nonstop conversation:

He liked his brother. A lot. He had more to say about his brother than himself, which you thought was awfully sad. 

His favorite type of tree was maple. 

He wasn’t allowed to have a pet but he really wanted a tame squirrel. 

All the Rengoku men looked like that. 

He was trying to train to become a swordsman and learn Flame Breathing, but it wasn’t working out too well. 

His mother had passed away when he was very young. His father was in a near-constant state of inebriation three doors down the hallway from you. 

His brother was coming back on Tuesday and Senjuro was already planning a feast. You had no idea what day it was today, not that it mattered, being unable to do anything.

His brother seemed to be the Hashira. You hoped you’d be able to move your legs by whenever Tuesday was so you’d be able to run away. The shame of being paralyzed in a Hashira’s home! 

You gave up on committing seppuku because it would ruin the flooring.

His favorite hobby was sleeping. 

But Tuesday morning came much earlier than you’d hoped. You could tell because Senjuro was so excited. 

“Please, Senjuro-kun,” you begged your new little friend, tears coursing down your cheeks. Your legs were still two useless lumps. “Please don’t tell your brother that I’m here. I’m so sorry. I’ll be your servant forever.” 

He frowned. “Why?” he asked, shoving a spoonful of rice porridge into your mouth, keeping you from answering. “Brother will surely want to check on your condition while he is here.”

“Mraahhhh…” you gurgled, trying to swallow and cry at the same time. “I can’t impose on a Hashira! I’m a lowly Mizunoto. I’d rather die. The idea that we’d even breathe the same air is fucking terrifying. Have you ever met God?”

Senjuro shook his head.

“That’s what we’re talking about here, Senjuro-kun.”

He laughed. “Brother isn’t God. He’s a man.”

Your tears increased in intensity. “My legs don’t even work, so I can’t prostrate myself! What am I going to do?! Lay here like the fucking emperor in this nice futon and introduce myself like that? Senjuro-kun, please… Please help me out here. I know I’m probably heavy as shit, but do you have time to shove me under the porch out of sight??”

Senjuro raised his eyebrows at you. “Umm, there’s no way I’m putting you under the porch. That’s awful.” He scooped up another big spoonful of porridge and put it in your mouth. “Don’t be afraid of Brother. He’s a good person. In fact, I’ll probably ask him to look after you for a little while later since I need to go buy some things.” 

Your eyes squinched shut, fat tears still leaking out. “Can you please have the doctor come back and put me out then, with that nice medicine? I’ll be fine if I can just be unconscious until Hashira-sama is gone… Alternatively, you can clobber me with a shovel or something.” 

Senjuro sighed. “No, and it’s ‘Kyojuro.’ Brother’s name is Kyojuro, you can call him that. And, I know he’ll just worry if you don’t wake up, so please just be patient! I’ll properly introduce you, so please just look forward to it!” 

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before stuffing the last spoonful of porridge in your mouth and leaving. Terrified, you strained your whole body, testing your limbs for any sign of response. The Hashira were basically no more than legends to most of the Demon Slayer Corps. It was nearly unheard of to see one, much less meet one. Their skills were said to be unworldly, able to cut through even the strongest ranks of demons. 

In particular, the Rengoku family was known since there had been a Hashira in that family through every single generation, going back to the Demon Slayers’ inception. A long and distinguished history, inherited strength and disposition, and an ironclad will that passed from generation to generation defined the Rengoku family. You couldn’t fathom something so honorable and here you were, possibly experiencing some kind of cosmic justice by being literally paralyzed in their esteemed home.

With enormous effort, you managed to raise your forearm and flop it across your body. 

Alright! It would take a while, but it was perhaps possible to drag yourself with your arm to the door that led from your room to what seemed to be a courtyard. Grunting with the strain, you stretched your arm and grasped the wooden floor next to your futon. 

“Pwahhh!!” 

You flipped yourself out of the futon and onto your face with a loud and unpleasant thump. 

The door snapped open and you felt your whole body deflate like a balloon. A loud voice boomed and you realized that you’d made a terrible mistake.

“Oh, it couldn’t be! Did you do this, Senjuro? You said that the poison caused whole-body paralysis, right!” 

“N-No, Brother! I would never…”

Strong arms picked you up from the floor as if you were something as small and inconsequential as a half-eaten dish of pickles. Your head flopped back as there was no strength in your neck, the bones cracking ominously. 

“Oh, that didn’t sound right at all.” You were shifted and your head fell against a broad shoulder. You opened your lips, a single word slipping past. 

“Shit.” 

You couldn’t even move your arm to clap a hand against your mouth, the word slipping out so easily and by total mistake, conveying the full spectrum of your dismay and expanding it further, out to the infinite horizon…

“Hahaha!” You were placed back into the futon with a quick movement, like a sword being put back in a sheath, and paralyzed half from terror and half (or maybe more) from actual paralysis, you found yourself staring into a face that, as promised, looked almost like an exact replica of Senjuro’s, but older. You stopped breathing. 

“Brother, this is _____-san. _____-san will be staying with us for a few more days while the demon poison wears off.” Senjuro eyed you suspiciously, knowing that you were probably trying to escape. You started to sweat profusely.

“_____-san, this is my older brother, Kyojuro. He’s going to look after you for a couple of hours while I go buy some ingredients for dinner.” He paused, staring at you with a concerned expression on his face. “Please don’t try to leave. You might hurt yourself.” 

You smiled stiffly, still not breathing. 

Senjuro slid the door closed behind him, leaving you in the cage with the tiger. 

Burning eyes bore down on you and you felt your soul trying to at least escape your body because your body wouldn’t move. 

“You’re lucky to be alive!” Rengoku Kyojuro had a loud voice that filled the whole room easily. “How fortunate!” 

“Re-Rengoku-sama,” you forced out, your voice coming out as a pathetic wheeze. “I am so sorry.” 

“Sorry for what?” he said quickly, seating himself on his knees at your side. “You were very courageous! I heard about what happened!”

You dared to take a breath and you felt a drop of sweat run down the side of your forehead. “I am very sorry to impose,” you managed. “And for cursing.” 

“Hahaha!” He laughed again and you felt the hairs on the back of your neck prickling. “You’re not imposing! I am just glad we can have you here. You battled a demon so close to my own home! I am ashamed as a Hashira!” 

Rengoku’s aura was so stifling that you could feel the heat radiating off of his person, even though you were swaddled tightly in the futon. Somehow, in putting you back, he’d fastened the covers around you so you wouldn’t be able to move even if you tried. His face had a smile on it but it was unreadable. 

“I’m the one who should be ashamed,” you answered, wishing you could cover your face with your hands. “My skills are shit, so I’ve ended up like this. I am so sorry.” You had a way of talking that was regretfully too honest. And your real feelings were usually some swirling, unpalatable combination of self-hatred and fury. Rengoku just watched you talk, his eyes seeming to pierce you. His smile widened as he seemed to remember something.

“_____-san, do you use a breathing style?” 

You sighed. “Yeah, but I’ve only got two forms. Can’t get the hang of the others.”

His smile was a knowing one. “Is it Wind Breathing?”

You stared, not that you had a choice with your head fixed in one spot. “Yeah.” 

Rengoku laughed again. “You just remind me of someone,” he commented.

You frowned. “Who’s that?”

“Shinazugawa Sanemi, the Wind Breathing Pillar.”

Vaguely, you knew who that was, though you’d never met. “What is he like?”

“Like you!” 

“...…”

Rengoku chuckled. “If I had to say, I would describe him as someone with lots of wrath! But your wrath seems to be directed all in toward yourself! If you change that, maybe you can make progress on the other forms!” He looked thoughtful. “What frustrates you the most these days, _____-san?”

You quickly responded. “My weakness.”

“Alright! What frustrates you that isn’t yourself?”

You thought for a while. “I don’t know. I wish winter would be less cold? Though it’s not winter yet… Oh. The other day, I almost tripped over a cat and it pissed me off.”

Rengoku’s smile froze on his face. “I’ll try introducing you to Shinazugawa someday and maybe he can advise you!” His voice was loud enough for everyone in the house to hear. You blinked slowly.  

“You’ve done more than enough for someone like me, Rengoku-sama. I’m sorry I can’t thank you on my knees. I will when I can use my knees again.” You realized how close his face had gotten, leaning over yours so close that his hair almost touched you. Was he hard of hearing? Despite your proximity, he still used such a loud voice. 

“No thanks is needed!” He was actually almost shouting into your face now, his eyes hovering around above you, not blinking at all. What an eccentric fellow. He and Senjuro looked exactly alike but their similarities seemed to end there. 

Despite the fact that he was a Hashira, you found Rengoku easier to deal with than you had originally feared. He lacked pretentiousness. Despite being strange, he was kind. He shared an apple with you one afternoon, making a show of peeling it with his Nichirin Blade. 

Things you learned about Rengoku Kyojuro after being trapped in a room, talking to him for three days:

He wasn’t allowed to have a pet but was interested in Iriomote cats. 

He liked sweet potatoes quite a bit.

Somehow, he’d learned Flame Breathing by reading an instruction manual. 

When he was younger, he wanted to be a sumo wrestler, but gave up. 

Recently, he had found enjoyment in whittling. He promised to give you a wooden fish, for some reason. 

He exuded a constant air of optimism, which made you self-conscious. 

The fifth day came and he supported you on his shoulder while you tested out your legs. They weren’t anywhere near perfect, but you could slowly bend them at the knees and move your ankles. 

“Yup, we’re all fixed up, so time to go!” You strained to kick off the futon covers but Rengoku immediately caught them and shoved you back inside. 

“Want me to ask Senjuro to tie you up?” His smile was scary. 

“N-No…”

“Good.” 

Sobbing lightly, you scrunched your body up into a ball, rolling over so your forehead touched the floor, pointed in Rengoku’s general direction. “I can’t possibly impose on you any longer, Rengoku-sama. I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me but it’s too much. If I stay any longer, I can’t go to heaven.”

“Senjuro! Do we have any rope?”

You squeaked and immediately shut yourself up. 

It ended up taking a full week for you to regain the use of your limbs, though your fingers and toes remained slightly numb. Senjuro helped you sit up and slowly stand, your legs trembling beneath you. Rengoku nodded with approval. 

“That’s great, _____-san! You’re recovering well. Your new sword arrived today, too! Karanomori-san is on the veranda, eating ohagi!” 

You gave him a blank look. “New sword?”

Senjuro held your hand tightly as your weight continued to shift around. “Your sword was snapped,” he explained. “Do you remember?”

You absolutely did not remember. You made a disgusted face. “I broke my sword? Well, I’m a huge fucking failure, aren’t I.” You sighed, preparing yourself mentally for Karanomori. 

“You’re not a failure!” Rengoku laughed, sliding the door to the courtyard open. “You killed that demon, after all! You’ve saved people’s lives!” 

You frowned. “No, no way I saved anyone,” you said, confused. “I didn’t kill that demon.”

Rengoku put his hands on your shoulders and guided you out onto the veranda. 

“Karanomori-san,” you sobbed, falling to your knees. Sure enough, he was there, wearing the usual weird mask. It was pushed up so he could snack on a tray of ohagi that sat next to a cup of tea on the veranda. “I’m so sorry for breaking my sword. I can’t even remember doing it. I’m so angry at myself!” 

“No problem,” he said in a plain voice, his mouth still full. He shrugged. “It happens.” Somehow, his ambivalence made you feel even more sorry. You’d rather him be chasing you down with a knife or something. 

You drew your new katana, inspecting it. As you grasped it, it turned the familiar shade of green you’d become accustomed to. Behind you, Senjuro made an impressed sound.

“It’s so green!” he exclaimed, circling around you to get a better look. “Ours are always red!” 

“Indeed!” Rengoku nodded his head vigorously, also stepping up to get a look. “You’re indeed suited to Wind Breathing, _____-san!” 

“Thanks…” You guessed it was a compliment? Fidgeting, you sheathed the blade, ready to move on.

“I guess this means I should head out, then!” You marched back inside, preparing to pack up and leave. 

“What? You still have rehabilitation to do, _____-san!” Senjuro trotted after you and you froze in your tracks.

“Oh, I can do that on the road! No problem at all.” You hurriedly folded up your futon and got on the floor to bow to both Senjuro and his brother, who was watching you with a cryptic smile. 

As if he’d willed it, your ankles went dead. You couldn’t get back up off the floor. A layer of sweat broke out across your forehead as you strained every muscle in your body trying to get up. But you just ended up sprawled on the floor, facedown. 

A warm hand settled on the back of your head and a tingling feeling shot up your spine. Rengoku rolled you over easily, hoisting you up off the floor in his arms and you felt tears of frustration gathering in the corners of your eyes. 

“There’s no hurry, _____-san!” He gave you a patient smile, his face very close. Your whole body twitched, the tingling feeling in your spine refusing to let up. The sensation seemed to be originating from somewhere around your butthole, which was disconcerting to say the least. 

A kaleidoscope of different thoughts and guesses played out in your mind before you came to the singular, horrifying conclusion that you were aroused. 

You felt every inch of your body heat up with the realization and as Rengoku peered down into your face kindly, you wished that dying from embarrassment could be actually possible. He didn’t seem to notice and you held your breath as he carried you out of the room and to a garden that housed a single willow tree. 

“We can go slow,” he suggested, still smiling faintly. You squeezed your eyes shut, not sure what was supposed to come next. He placed you under the tree and gave you a firm pat on the shoulder. You tried not to react.

“Yeah…” 

He beamed at you and you died a little inside.

[mmvalentine]

Lover Like Me pt 10 | Feysand

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 ** Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Work on Monday drags.

Rhys gets up a couple of hours before me, silences his alarm quickly and then presses warm kisses to the back of my neck and the crook of my shoulder before he gets out of bed. I turn my face, and he kisses my lips, but whispers “keep sleeping.” I don’t need to be told twice.

When I wake at eight, Rhys is long gone. My clothes are folded in a pile at the corner of the bed, with a post-it that says, There’s pikelets in the fridge x

I shake my head and smile. My kitchen is literally next door, I’m hardly at the mercy of his hospitality. Plus, I don’t usually like sugar for breakfast.

I pull my clothes on and shuffle into my own apartment. As I cook my eggs, I think that it’s strange how my morning routine just picks up like usual. Strange that only my cold and unrumpled bed knows I wasn’t here last night. Strange that everything, and nothing has changed.  

I take a shower and despite the steam, I’m shivering under the water as a I remember everywhere Rhys touched me last night. My fingers probe my throat for bruises, both wary of how it might look at work but also looking for proof that he was there. I find nothing, and am embarrassed that I’m a little disappointed.

Work is slow, there aren’t many customers and I’m checking my phone incessantly. I know that he doesn’t have the down time that I do in a work day, and so I try not to feel insecure. I’ve tucked his post-it into the back of my phone case because I’m a giant sap, and look at that occasionally instead. Around lunch time, he texts me.

Rhys: Hey you

My phone buzzes in my pocket and when his name comes up on the screen my heart hits the roof of my mouth.

Feyre: Hey :)

Rhys: How’s your day going, beautiful?

I bite my lip and blush at the flashback. You’re beautiful. That’s all.

Feyre: It’s good, it’s slow.

Feyre: How’s yours?

I watch the bouncing grey dots like a kid with a crush.

Rhys: Same old.

Rhys: Come round after work?

I grin. By now, his apartment is basically a second home to me, but this time there’s a thrill of anticipation in my veins. This time, 'come round’ means ‘come put your mouth on mine,’ and if Rhys wasn’t also working I would be tempted to just up and leave this minute.

Feyre: Definitely.

Rhys: Good girl.

I swear I get wet right there at the cash register.

Somehow the second half of the day passes even more slowly than the first, but finally I get to hang up my apron. I get on the bus and the whole way home I’ve got a knee jiggle going. I try to plug into my usual podcast but I realise quickly that I’m not hearing a single word. I look at the time, I know that Rhys has finished too but he drives in with the others and so he’ll beat me home.

Half way there, we get stuck. There’s an accident on the road and the bus has to wait for it to clear before it proceeds.

Of all the fucking days.

I keep glancing at my phone but every time I do it’s only a minute that has passed. After five minutes, I google how long it would take if I just got off the bus and walked home. Forty minutes. Probably worth staying on the bus then.

Twenty minutes after that, I’m not so sure.

I’m just considering whether to call Rhys and have him collect me- but no, I can’t ask that of him, he’s probably tired after work and it’s still plenty early, it’s not like I’m stranded or in trouble- when we’re given the all clear and the bus starts moving. There’s a little cheer from the passengers. I just sigh and try not to check my phone the rest of the way home.

As I walk into Velaris, I do think about going straight to Rhys’s door. But I make myself go home and have a shower and change my clothes. I barely manage to shove my keys into my pocket before I’m standing on his doorstep, I’m knocking, and it’s opening and there he is.

However beautiful I thought Rhys was before, it’s got nothing on how he looks in this doorway.

Not now that I’ve spent the night in his bed, now that I know the shape of his skin, now that the taste of him is on the tip of my tongue when I see him.

“Hi,” I say, and if it comes out dumb then Rhys doesn’t seem to notice.

“Get. Over here.”

I take one step forward and then Rhys is pulling me the rest of the way in, fist in the front of my sweater and hand around the back of my neck. He kisses me like it’s been a week instead of a day, and I am trying to stop smiling so that I can kiss him back properly. The door thuds shut behind me and Rhys walks backwards, falling into the couch and taking me with him. I sprawl over him and giggle, and he scoops me more completely into his lap, and the whole time he’s kissing and kissing my lips and I’ve never felt this before.

I finally stop laughing when Rhys lets out a frustrated growl and nips my lip hard. I gasp at the sudden pain but as soon as my mouth isn’t stretched into a grin, Rhys gets his tongue between my lips and oh, yes now he has my attention.

“What took you so long?” Rhys mumbles.

“Accident on the road…” My words are eaten up and I don’t explain any further.

I clasp my fingers behind his neck, and when his hands slide up my back, under my sweater, I arch toward him like he’s the sun.

“You want to go to bed?” Rhys asks, and it’s so low and rough that all I can do is nod. I lean in and press a sucking kiss against his neck, and the groan this produces makes me preen. I do it again, and Rhys slide a hand beneath my hair and holds my head to his throat as I move down to his adam’s apple.

“Fuck, let’s go to bed.”

I am inclined to agree, but at that moment there’s a knock on the door.

“Nope,” Rhys calls toward it. “Not tonight.”

But the door barges open, and I quickly slide out of his lap onto the couch next to him.

“Oh good,” Cassian says. “Feyre’s already here.”

Cassian is followed by both Mor and Azriel. Mor is wearing pyjama pants and Azriel is carrying a stack of pizza boxes.

“Guys come on, are there no boundaries at all?”

“It’s Monday,” Mor states. “It’s movie night.”

She sits down on the couch next to me in her usual position, and I shuffle over to give her a little more space. Rhys just sighs, then reaches over and hauls me back into his lap. I blush, and lean in to whisper in his ear.

“Are they supposed to know?” I ask him. “About us? Are we telling?”

“We already know,” Mor says. I whip my head around, and she just shrugs. “Ask Azriel.”

“We knew before you did,” Azriel comments. He doesn’t look over at us, he’s busy fiddling with Rhys’s laptop and getting it to connect to the TV.

“You guys didn’t know?” Cassian asks, looking genuinely puzzled.

“Rhys is right, we need better boundaries,” I mutter.

“We can still kick them out, you know,” he says. I sigh.

“I mean it is Monday. To be fair to them.”

“Pick a short movie,” Rhys says to the others.

“We’re not picking based on run time,” Cassian says. “How about you show some respect for the sanctity of movie night?”

“How about you get out of my house and watch your own TV?” Rhys snaps back.

“You know that’s not how it’s done,” Cassian replies simply.

In the end, they settle on the live action Cinderella. Azriel flicks off the lights and Mor puts a bag of popcorn in the microwave, and I settle against Rhys.

The truth is I have so loved being a part of movie night Mondays. It’s the thing that makes me feel like I belong here, and although of course I want alone time with Rhys, I can wait a couple of hours to preserve the ritual.

Rhys has other ideas.

Bluebirds fly over the screen, and in the dark room Rhys’s hands slip beneath my sweater again. I sigh contentedly, loving the warmth of him on my skin. He presses his mouth to the top of my shoulder, and I lean into him. I think he’s just going to hug me then, but his hands don’t stop moving. They stroke over my stomach, slow and heavy. His thumbs rub circles in the small of my back, his fingertips dip just under my waistband to skim across my hips. I’m soothed, I’m excited, I don’t know what to feel. After a few minutes, he leans forward and kisses the nape of my neck. Brushes his lips there, at first, then licks the spot before biting softly against my skin. I shiver in his lap, and he just squeezes my waist.

I don’t think I can handle this, not while there are people around, so I shift in his lap and tip my head against his shoulder. Move my neck out of reach. This does not phase Rhys, he only tugs his teeth against my ear instead. Traces the tip of his nose against my temple, then sucks my earlobe into his mouth. Runs his tongue along the inside edge of my ear and why does that feel good?

Meanwhile his nails are scratching up and down the outside of my thighs, hip to knee and back through my tights.

I turn my head in the dark room, knocking my nose against his. Rhys catches my lips and kisses me under the cover of a swell of music, and even though we barely move, I can feel my heart thud against my ribcage.

At that moment a cushion smacks us in the face.

“Oi, we said we know, not we want to watch,” Cassian says.

“And I said use your own TV,” Rhys replies mildly, and puts his mouth on my throat.

I laugh but pull back, shy now that we’ve been caught out. I try to slide out of Rhys’s lap but he doesn’t let me. Just hugs me back to him like a kid with a squirmy cat. Doesn’t try to kiss me anymore though, so I let it slide.

Ten minutes later, his hands are moving again.

Rhys’s arms are folded around my waist and one of his hands slips back beneath my sweater, stroking at the side of my ribs. He doesn’t do anything else, there’s no breath on my neck there’s just his fingers moving, steadily beneath my clothes.

I try to ignore this for a while, but the longer it goes on the more I feel it. It’s so harmless at first, but my skin loves his touch. I start leaning into it, and then it’s not enough. I want him to keep touching me, but I can’t do anything about it while we’re in a room full of people. Rhys’s movements move a little lower, he skims my waistband and suddenly I’m struggling.

“Tell them you’re tired,” Rhys murmurs in my ear. “Tell them you need to go to bed.”

I shake my head, feeling that there is nothing subtle at all about that statement and not being prepared to announce it to the group.

Then Rhys’s fingers move lower, and trace the centre seam of my tights.

I startle in his lap, and three pairs of eyes look to us.

“I… Rhys is terrorizing me,” I say. Rhys’s eyebrows go up. His hands sit innocently still at my waist. “I’m…” I give up, and mutter, “I’ll let you guys watch the movie in peace.”

I stand, and Rhys is a second behind me. I head for the door but Rhys puts his hand on my shoulders and steers me to his bedroom instead.

“Good night,” Mor calls, and she’s already turned back to the movie.

“Gross,” Cassian adds, but he too has his attention on the screen.

“See you tomorrow,” Azriel says, and his mouth is full of pizza.

And I marvel that it’s just not a big deal to them, this is normal, just like that.

Rhys shuts the door behind him, and it’s dark. I turn to say something to him, but he’s got his mouth on mine and I’m being backed into the bed. I can still hear the movie on the other side of the door, and I’m conscious of how close our friends are even as we’re pulling clothes off each other.

We slide between the sheets and there’s nothing like kissing Rhys while we’re naked. His skin is satin and heat, and I’m trying to press into him at every point of contact. Rhys’s hands never stop moving, they’re on my jaw then on my breasts then smoothing down my back then squeezing at my backside. When his fingers slip between my legs I have to bite down on a moan.

Rhys tugs my lip from my teeth.

“I like hearing you,” he says, before kissing from my chin to the hollow of my throat.

“Not with the others outside,” I whisper, but as I say it he pushes a finger inside me and I have to hide my face in his neck as I try to keep it together.

"But you're so sexy when you feel good." Rhys mutters it into my neck, moves his mouth on my throat. I give a brittle laugh.

"Tamlin used to get so embarrassed..."

There's a growl from Rhys, and at first I feel a flush of guilt for bringing him up. Again.

But that's not the issue.

"Then he's an idiot," he tells me. "All I want to do is make you scream."

He's moving his fingers inside me, as if to make a point, and my teeth clamp down hard on lip. "I can't," I gasp.

"Well," he mumbles. I can feel myself soaking his hand now, and my hips grind foward against his palm. "If you're feeling shy..." Rhys rolls me over and then draws me back in, so that my back is to his chest. "I can keep you quiet."

His hand slides between my legs again, and his teeth play against the back of my shoulder. But now his free hand comes up to cover my mouth, long fingers clamping over my cheeks and jaw. His lips brush against my ear as he whispers.

“Shhh.”

And then the head of his cock is pressing at my entrance, while his fingers move deftly over my clit and I’m glad of his hand on my mouth because I whimper into his palm.

“Good, darling?”

I can’t answer, of course, so I just nod and press my hips back, trying to move further onto him. After waiting all day for this, I don’t just want his fingers. He chuckles low under my hear. “Greedy little thing.” But he gives me what I want, pushes an inch inside of me and I'm falling apart. My hands clutch at his forearm in front of me, but I don’t pull his hand back from my face. He gives me another inch and it’s not nearly enough. I reach back for him, finding his hip and trying to tug it closer even though I’m straining with what I already have. Rhys pulls back and then thrusts hard into me, all at once, and I cry out. His fingers tighten across the lower half of my face, and I’m breathing hard through my nose.

“Fuck you’re good,” Rhys groans. “You’re so good, so good…”

He gives me time to adjust, or maybe he’s adjusting because when he drags a breath in it shudders.

“You want more?” he murmurs. I nod my head eagerly, and I can feel the smile behind my neck. “Of course you do,” he says, and he’s drawing out and pushing in and I’m home.

I don’t know how I used to go about my day, but all day today I’ve been on edge and willing the hours by and now, here, I’m finally breathing slow and deep and with every stroke I’m back in my body. I want Rhys’s arms tighter, I want him to bind me back into myself. I can’t speak but I meet his hips every time and I clutch his arms to myself where I can reach them. Rhys seems to understand, puts one of his legs through mine and draws them back toward him, keeps my head against his shoulder using the hand over my mouth, and hits that spot inside my harder and harder with every pass. I can’t stop the moans but they are muffled by his fingers. Rhys is doing better than I am, but with his mouth at my ear I still hear the catches in his breath as he speeds up.

“Have you been thinking of this, too?” he whispers. “Had difficulty concentrating at work? Rather spend your time getting fucked?”

I arch my back to get him deeper, and hope that answer will suffice.

“Have you been holding onto this all day?” His voice drops into that growl that I have no defences for whatsoever. “Need to give it to me?”

I would nod, but he’s holding my head so tightly now that I can’t move. I just whine against his callouses. And all the while those fingers circle between my thighs.

“Then give it to me.” That voice… it vibrates deep in my spine and I shiver in his arms. “Give it all to me, come for me.”

And it’s not difficult, I start to fall apart but Rhys keeps me in place as he fucks through my climax, not letting the rhythm drop, and I’m wrung out and wrung out on his cock.

“Good girl,” he breathes, and that kicks off an aftershock. “Good girl, good-” he cuts off, and the feeling of him coming has me spasming all over again. He’s silent as he shudders into me, and his fingers twitch on my jaw.

And I love it. His orgasm feels as good to me as mine, and by the time we’re panting softly into the dark, by the time he’s lowered his hand from my mouth and is stroking my flank instead, by the time his forehead is leaning against the back of my neck and the music from the movie is drifting back in under the door, I’m heavy and content and well on my way to sleep.

xxx

The rest of the week passes like this.

I will away the hours at work and then arrive breathless at Rhys’s doorstep. We occasionally tolerate the presence of our friends but spend most of our time wrapped up in each other, and the only times I spend in my own apartment are the few hours between when I wake up alone in Rhys’s bed and when I have to get on the bus.

By Friday, Rhys has a key for me.

“A key to your apartment?” We’re in his kitchen, I’m leaning against the kitchen counter while he makes tea.

“Sure, everyone else has one, why not?”

I laugh. “We’ve barely been dating a week.”

Rhys turns around and puts his forearms down on the table opposite me. “Is that what we’re doing?” His voice is dark and velvet.

“Oh, I, um… I guess we haven’t... ”

Rhys leans forward and kisses me until the kettle whistles.

“I can deal with that,” he says. He steps away to take the kettle off the stove.

“So… you’re my boyfriend?”

“Use whatever label you want.” He turns back to me, and reaches out in a motion that tucks my hair back and then trails to my chin. Pulls me forward. “As long as it means you’re mine.” His lips ghost over mine. “Okay by you?”

I wrap my arms around his neck. “I like ‘boyfriend,’” I tell him, and then he puts his mouth on mine and that’s the discussion done.

And it feels fast but it feels good, and if there is a part of me that is wary of the haste, no one else seems to think it odd. In fact our friends have almost no reaction to us being together, and so although I am self-conscious at first about how casual Rhys is with his affection, the touches of his hand on my hip and his lips on my hair become as natural as sitting on his couch and eating pizza. So I make a copy of my key for him too, and it doesn't feel like we're neighbours, it feels like we live in one big giant house where everyone has their own room but are never far.

When Rhys’s court date comes up a couple of weeks later, it’s something I had forgotten about entirely, and so I am not prepared when Tamlin’s name appears printed on the summons on the table in his apartment.

***

Holy shit I was going to wait until i hit chapter 12 and say something about how it's my longest fic (The Bargain is 11 chapters) but i realised that it has twice the word count of that whole thing.

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2@highladysith@stardelia@feysand-loml@tillyrubes10@ratabrasileira@live-the-fangirl-life@maybekindasortaace@annejulianneh111@thebonecarver@rowaelinismyotp@loosingdreams@pitrsattabhaadmeinjao@achernarlight@swankii-art-teacher@sjmships@courtofjurdan@teddytdr@positivewitch@thalia-2-rose@darling-archeron@rapunzel1523@fairchildjace@hopefulacademia@story-scribbler@fandomstalker27@realbookloverproblems@dealfea@s-tormwitch@cretaceous-therapod @whenyadoesntcutit @scatterbrainedgirl@whoever-you-choose-to-love@endlessdaydream@rarephloxes @timesconvert @mis-lil-red@alerialumina @elentiya-witc@elentiyawhitethorn

[harrystylesslutt]

harry sending y/n a video of him touching himself while shes a work and one of their rules it to not touch themselves and once she gets home she punishes him

(sry for any typos i dont have the energy to proof read this rn but i ll do it tmrw morning! good night <333)

Harry had been texting you all day. Mostly dirty texts. Telling you how much he needed you and how badly he wanted you to make him come. You were quite busy so all you did was smirk when you read the texts and kept doing your work. But as much as you were trying to keep ignoring him. You received another message, a video.

You bit your lip in anticipation and thought 'why not watch it'.

You plug your earphones in your phone and lean back in your chair, quickly glancing around you making sure no one was in the office.

Just as you press play, you start hearing harry's loud whiny moans echoing in your ears. The sight on your phone made you fuel with anger on one hand and on the other it made you squeeze your thighs together.

You and harry had a rule. He knew he wasn't allowed to touch himself without you around. But he did it anyway. On the screen, you could see harry laying on the bed, his head thrown back against the headboard with his legs spread open giving you a clear view of his stretched hole which makes you notice the dildo resting next to his thigh. You could see that he already came many times by sticky mess on his stomach. His hand was moving up and down his cock in quick motions, you could hear the desperation in his moans and whimpers. Right when you saw his cock twitch in his hand he moaned out a loud high pitched moan screaming your name before the video got cut off.

You cursed under your breath. Your cheeks were definitely red and flushed. You decided it's time to pack up your stuff in the office and head home.

You quickly grab your phone from the desk sending harry a text 'I'm on my way you better be ready'. Your smirk when you see the message turning from delivered to read right after you press send. You see three bubbles pop up and a text from harry appears 'Can't wait'. 

Once you get in your car you drive fast, definitely passing the speed limit.

Harry was panting on the bed. Extremely exhausted from his many orgasms, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't excited for you to come home and see him like this. He always loved a good punishment...

His eyes shoot open when he hears keys jiggling downstairs. He could hear your footsteps approaching the room quickly which means that he got you really really mad. And that just added onto his excitement.

You don't even bother knocking, opening the door smirking when you see harry spread out on the bed looking like he's fucked out of this world. "Well well well, what do we have here..." You take your coat off throwing it on the pile of clothing that's already on the floor. "Look at you baby, cum on your chest...on your lips and even in your tight little hole".

You slowly take your clothes off, only leaving your underwear on. "Missed me?" He nods eagerly at you "So so much...was thinking about you the whole time" he mutters pressing his thighs together, suddenly feeling a bit shy.

You hum and crawl on the bed, hovering above him. You pout at him, collecting some of his cum off his stomach on your finger "So so messy. Aren't you?"

You bring your finger up to your mouth, sucking it while maintaining eye contact with him which makes him squirm under you. "Please I need you so bad" he whines looking down at his already hard sensitive cock.

"Let's see if you deserve it angel. I don't think you've been a good boy, teasing me like that while I'm at work. Tell me, how many times did you come" He breaks eye contact and bites his lip, a blush creeping up to his cheeks.

"f-four times" He whispers, looking back at you through his lashes. "Y'so naughty baby. Do you really think you deserve a treat when you act like that?" You chuckle unbuckling your bra, letting the straps fall down your arms slowly.

Harry's mouth waters at the sight of your tits and he feels his cock grow even harder. "N-no I was very bad. I need to be punished" You wrap your hand around his extremely sensitive cock making him hiss.

"That's what I like to hear" You lean forward and capture his lips in a kiss and pull back when he tries to deepen it. You pull your hand away too and he whimpers at the loss of contact "Not gonna make it that easy for you baby, I think you already came too many times, It's my turn now"

You get off the bed and sit on a nearby chair letting your panties pool down to the ground. You spread your legs showing him how wet you are and he groans loudly at the sight.

"M'gonna make myself come four times in front of you. And then maybe I'll think about helping you out with your...problem after I'm done. But if you even think about touching me I'll tie you up to the bed and leave you high and dry."

He whines at your words desperately wanting to put his hands on you. "Hey. No whining you deserve this. Now... eyes on me pretty boy".

Masterlist

a/n: okay i think i have the motivation to write again. im gonna be taking it slow but still a progress :) anyhoo reblogs are always welcome! requests are open <33

[pinejay]

watched the batman with friends last night. it was an excellent comedy of american psycho proportions. like on the tin it's a milquetoast liberal copaganda vigilante story that contradicts itself constantly with its glorification of violence (every time he brutally beats ppl up i was disturbed but the movie paints every instance as a cool guy move, and only treats one instance as going too far). like can we get some social workers in here?? maybe try de-escalation tactics instead of going right to fisticuffs?? same as other batman movies, batman is less a vigilante and more an extension of the police with even more freedom of movement (but it's ok guys bc he doesn't use guns!). and then they lazily throw in some basic moral abt how revenge is bad bc u should seek justice thru the law, not punish ppl yourself (which goes along with the common message that some violence to detain ppl is good, but then beating them up or killing them after is bad).

but none of that is the point which is great! the fun in it all was robert pattinson making it extremely obvious that this batman character is an actual socially awkward freak, walking around in his silly suit and cape and swollen contacts-irritated eyes and no nose who doesn't respond when ppl address him. i saw ppl saying they didn't like how pattinson played bruce wayne bc he was supposed to be a playboy, but nope not in this movie! imo it would be so out of character for bruce to suddenly be outgoing and normal in the day when he's like, a grieving young orphan bachelor rich kid who doesn't wanna deal with high society and just wants an excuse to go out in the street and get beat up while beating random ppl up (in his custom commissioned bullet proof suit). like he makes it so obvious he's so young, with his funny pretend deep voice and normal pitched young adult voice. he's literally a guy in his 20s going thru his emo teen phase writing in his diary while listening to nirvana.

anyways, only complaint is it was nearly 3 hrs long. halfway thru i desperately wanted to jiggle the mouse on the theatre screen to see how long was left. and at the end every time i thought it was over another thing happened. they just kept pulling vigilante story tropes out the bag like they needed to cover them all before it ended. oh also the music was excellent, really well done. good touch with the cellos, even if they were used during silly forced romance scenes. nice simple musical motifs that didn't get old bc they were so pretty. there was even a beautiful piano piece playing during the credits, i was disappointed it wasn't used in the actual movie.

[sevens-binarycode]

This is my first fan fiction ever and my first post ever on Tumblr so lets see how this goes. Also warning: I am not caught up on MHA so this is based mainly on what I’ve seen others write about and this is self indulgent because I just really want to write Kirishima fluff.... Oops

Kirshima x female reader (chubby version)

The light from your phone burns your eyes as the colorful outfits pass your screen. Girls with the perfect hourglass body and flawless makeup fill our vision. Comments praising them for looking that way come in by the thousands. Your hand lifts to rest on your stomach, cringing at the plush skin underneath. Your mind fills with thoughts of hatred. If only you looked like those girls. They look so pretty, wearing crop tops and shorts that barely cover their butts. If only you had a flat stomach, one that didn’t poke out over your jeans and jiggle when you laughed. You wake from your daze when your phone screen goes black from inactivity. There, you see your face, smooshed with a double chin from laying on your bed. You stare at the girl in the reflection, her cheeks puffy and chin squshed from the fat underneath it. No tears fall from your eyes however, instead your body and mind is numb. You have shut down. You lower your phone and stare at the ceiling thinking about how unnatractive you are. Thinking about the extra weight that keeps adding on, preventing you from wearing cute clothes or even clothes you used to be able to wear. You just stare, numb and motionless, not even the sound of Kirishima entering the house and calling your name takes you out of your trance.

Kirishima POV

Keys jingle as the spiky redhead opens the door to his and his girlfriends apartment. He knows she is off work today and has been having a hard time recently so after he finished at his agency he stopped by to get her favorite pastries. Thinking about his beautiful girlfriend makes the boy smile as he pushes open the door and calls for her only to get no response. Normally she is out in the living room or kitchen, but seeing as she is not he can only assume she is in their room taking a nap, after all, she has been stressed and overworked lately. He takes of his shoes and sheds his jacket before heading to their bedroom. He grabs the door handle and turns to open it, there he finds the girl he loves laying in bed. He smiles at her figure, taking in her outfit. She was wearing a baggy shirt and sweat pants but she still looked adorable in his eyes. Looking at her torso he saw that she was mindlessly pinching her stomach under her shirt, her plush skin rising and falling at the pressure, his heart skipped a beat seeing this, only to stop when he saw her face. She laid there, staring at the ceiling, completely spaces out. It was them that he realized what was going on. She was judging herself again. His smile long forgotten as his heart ached at the sight. His beautiful girlfriend, the one and only love of his life, was hating on herself. He never really understood how she didn’t like her appearance, from the moment he laid eyes on her, he thought she wes the most beautiful creature to walk this Earth. Her thick thighs kissing each other, tummy looking so soft and comfy, he just wanted to hug her, touch her, feel the squish of her skin in his arms. He soon found out that what he saw as perfect, were the things she hated the most. That the things he loved haunted her everyday. He tried to tell her that she was gorgeous in every way but she could never fully believe him. She tried not to talk about it with him, not wanting to bother him so he thought it was getting better, that he was finally getting through her thick skull, but seeing her like this only broke his heart. She wasn’t getting better, she was suffering alone. He dropped the bags and forced his feet to walk towards her on the bed. The shifting snapped her out of her trance but before she could react she felt warm lips kissing her hand on her stomach along with a hand slowly removing it, allowing his mouth to touch her tummy. The soft contact made her eyes wide. She tried to fight him, pulling her shirt down but he forced her hands away, looking at her with pleading eyes a soft please falling from his lips. Her heart ached seeing her boyfriend finding her like this. His gaze moved down to her stomach, plump and beautiful. He landed one more kiss on it before resting his head on her, taking a deep breath before speaking.

“Pebble. What were you thinking about?” He asked, though he already knew the answer.

“Nothing Kiri, can you please get off.” The girl replied, feeling self conscious of her exposed skin. She felt his hands squeeze hers a little before letting go, still not moving. She tried to push his shoulders to get him off but he wouldn’t budge.

“I know you were judging yourself again pebble. You were hating on yourself again” The red head says, moving his hand to the side of her waist, he squeezed a little trying to calm himself down but it only made the girl more self conscious. “You were hating your beautiful tummy, and your perfect thighs weren’t you?” The boy asks.

“They aren’t beautiful or perfect, they are ugly and gross.” The girl mumbled. Kirishima felt his heart break at her words. He lifted his head to look at her but she stared a the ceiling. His brows furrowed a little at the sight. He would not put up with anyone hating on his girlfriend, even if it was herself. He lifted her shirt a little more before biting on the exposed skin a little. The girl jumped at the pain and looked down at him.

“They aren’t ugly and they are most definitely not gross. They are apart of you, and not a single part of your is gross or ugly. You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen and anyone who says otherwise can fuck off because you are perfect.” He says never breaking eye contact. The earnest words make the girls heart ache a little. Maybe she was to hard on herself. Maybe she wasn’t as gross as she thought. After all, she was able to rope in an amazing, beautiful guy like Kirishima. Maybe.... She wasn’t as bad as she thought. Her lips curled slightly as her eyes began to water. The boys hard face softened into a sympathetic smile, he brought a hand to her face, holding her cheek as swiping a thumb under her eye. Finally, his words reached her, at least a little bit. “Now, how about some pastries? I bought your favorite.” The boy said starting to raise himself off the girl only to feel a hand pull him back down.

“Can you... Kiss my tummy.... One more time?” The girl asked shyly. Her face was red at her request. She wasn’t fully comfortable with the idea but she decided that exposure was the best thing to getting over this. The boys smile widened and his eyes sparkled. Let’s just say that it wasn’t just once :)

Thanks for reading. I’m really bad at proof reading my own work since I already know what I was saying/ meant to say and get bored easily so I miss mistakes that aren’t super obvious. Sorry if there are any mistakes :)

[captain-tch]

All That I Can Give

summary: kiko is a struggling business owner, who gets thrown into the chaos of the borderlands. when she makes a mistake that will threaten her life, she learns just how far she will go to keep herself alive.

TW: DEATH, MENTIONS OF ATTEMPTED SUICIDE, MENTAL HEALTH, TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS, VIOLENCE

chapter 4: tag, you're it

previous chapter

Kiko spent the next seven days in a daze. 

Everywhere she would look, she would see the faces of the fallen. She’d see the cocky grin of the man wearing shorts, who tried to out smart her and faced the consequences. She’d see the heels fallen on the floor. She’d see the still hand of a woman who comforted her minutes before signing her own death warrant. She saw the destruction her own truths caused, all because she was terrified what the game would do if she didn’t adhere to it’s stupid rules. A dark cloud had settled on her mind. It made her think thoughts she hadn’t had for years. 

She wondered if it would have been better if she died at the game. 

Kiko did her hardest to shake this feeling off. She went for runs around the city, taking advantage of the complete silence and lack of judging eyes. She found an old Walkman at an antiques shop, playing the same cassette repetitively in her ears at a deafening volume to silence the screams. Kiko went shopping for things she would never have touched in the real world, selecting the branded cans at stores and picking up clothes that weren’t from charity shops. 

Still, the thoughts screamed at the back of her mind. 

By the time it came to renew her visa, she was emotionally spent. Her eyes were bone dry and the light once in them had promptly died. Looking in her reflection, she knew she looked just as lifeless as every other survivor she had met. 

Sighing, she tied her long, black hair into a braid. Normally, she would have been disgusted as the grease gathering at the roots. She found she couldn’t muster the energy to care. 

She finally stole her gaze from the mirror, trying not to focus too much on the foreign image staring back at her, packing her bag with a bottle of water, a pair of scissors, her lone playing card and a torch. If she was honest, she wasn’t entirely sure what to expect at her game tonight. She tried not to think about it. 

Leaving the safety of her apartment, she made her way further into Tokyo as the sun was setting. She walked as far away as she could from the last game arena, praying that it would mean that it would make whatever game she was meant to do easier. 

A screen lit up on her right. 

GAME ARENA. 

Her instincts told her to run as far as she could. She wanted to yield into that primal fight or flight, disappear from a world where deadly games didn’t exist and she didn’t have eviction notices flying through her letterbox. 

Faces of the dead flashed before her eyes. They were strangers, a man with glasses, a woman with heels, a middle aged woman with a comforting touch - they should mean nothing to her. But she was here and they weren’t. If Kiko was to die, who would remember them? She didn’t have much faith in the boy being able to survive much longer. 

Her legs pushed her forward, towards the apartment building. She climbed the stairs, muttering swear words to herself as she finally entered the building. 

All eyes darted towards her. Holding her head high, she stared past all of them, reaching for one of the phones and raising it to her face. The details appeared on the screen instantly and in different circumstances, Kiko would have loved to know more about how it worked. But since it was scanning her to enrol her into a game of life and death? Not so much. 

She leaned against the nearest wall. Her eyes moved slowly and surely around the room. A middle aged woman stood nervously to the side. Kiko tried to ignore the pang in her heart. She focused on the next person, taking in two men chatting to each other, one of whom was extremely muscly and stoic. As if sensing she was looking, they stopped talking, assessing her. 

Slowly, she averted her gaze to the rest of the room. Two other men stood huddled together; the only one that stood out to Kiko was the man with bleached blonde hair, in an atrociously disgusting shirt. An athletic woman hovered nearby, completing her stretches. Kiko envied her level of flexibility. 

The man she found most intriguing was far off in the corner, keeping to himself. He had what looked like a handheld electronic weapon charging up behind him. His hood was pulled up so she couldn’t make out much of what he looked like - from the weapon alone, Kiko knew to stay away as much as she could. 

“REGISTRATION COMPLETE. GAME: TAG. DIFFICULTY: FIVE OF SPADES. PLAYERS MUST OUTRUN THE TAGGER AND FIND THE SAFE PLACE TO DIFFUSE THE BOMB UNDER THIS BUILDING. YOU HAVE TWO MINUTES TO GET TO YOUR STARTING POSITIONS.”

People began shuffling towards the stairs, grim looks on their faces. Kiko was hot on their tail, pausing to watch the man in the white jumper move into the elevator. A smirk graced her lips. Even in life and death, some people were just so damn lazy.

Climbing the first flight of stairs, she brushed past her fellow players, walking to the furthest corner on the first floor. She jogged on the spot, shaking her hands out and mentally psyching herself up. With this being a spades game she didn't expect this to be easy. But she wasn't prepared to give in, not yet.

From her position she could easily see all the way down the corridor. It wasn't a fool proof plan. To her though, she knew she would encounter the danger, so why try hide from it?

"YOU HAVE THIRTY MINUTES. GOOD LUCK."

The whir of the elevator caught her attention. Her breath caught in her throat as she pushed herself against an alcove, muscles tense as she waited for the tell-tale ting of the doors opening.

The noise started to fade. Kiko released a breath she hadn't realised she was holding, peering out from behind her corner. At the very corner of her vision she could see the light above the lift shine with the number 3.

Treading carefully, Kiko reached out to the door nearest her. She tried pulling on the handle. Nothing. Disappointment flared up within her. She tried to brush it off, slowly but surely making her way down the corridor.

With each locked door, her hands shook more. Her hands became more desperate as she jiggled the handles aggressively. The safe place wasn't on the first floor. A quick glance at her phone told her she'd wasted ten minutes for nothing. It didn't take a genius to realise her current strategy was going to kill her.

"Think," Kiko slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. She begged for the cogs in her head to turn, for a solution to magically appear and end this hell. "Fuck."

She crept to the stairwell. She cast a careful glance around it. She cursed the lack of reflective materials, and all the blind spots.

Figures appeared out of nowhere. Kiko threw herself backwards, scrambling away. Her eyes caught an alcove nearby. Without a second thought she threw herself into it, clutching her hand to her chest.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor. As the tagger crept past her hiding space, she stifled a cry at the gun slung in their hands. A tall and ominous presence, Kiko couldn’t help but flash back to her life before this. The only difference between then and now, is that her hunter was wearing a horse’s mask. 

As quietly as she could, she pulled her backpack off her back, pulling the zip open as slowly as possible. The slight ripping made her cringe. A cautious glance up showed the tagger as further away. Swallowing her fear, she pulled the bag open faster, fishing inside it and pulling out the scissors.

Kiko fastened the bag up, flinging it on her back. With the scissors clenched firmly in her hand, she darted from out of the alcove and up the stairs. Gunshots ricocheted off the brick around her. An involuntary cry slipped past her lips as she threw herself into the stairwell, nearly tripping up the stairs as she flung herself up three flights of stairs.

"What the -"

The floor came rushing up to her face. All of a sudden she was on her hands and knees, two other bodies crumpled on the floor besides her.

A gentle hand touched her shoulder. Blindly she swung out with her scissors, screaming for the hand to leave her be. She paid no mind as the scissors slammed into the wall, cracking in half.

"Whoa!"

Kiko shot upright. Her eyes darted over the two figures before her - the man in the blinding shirt and his friend were backing away from her slowly. She snatched up the two halves of her scissors, scrambling to her feet.

Her lips started to form an apology when footsteps sounded behind her. Kiko snatched at the two men, helping pull them upright and pushed them further down the corridor. They easily obliged, legs propelling them down the corner and up another flight of stairs. Gunshots trailed their footsteps.

The men huffed as they sprinted, Kiko's breaths fitting their rhythm. They carried on running through the building. Kiko prayed with each step they put more distance between themselves and the tagger; she knew that was naïve. The more time spent running from the tagger meant less time finding the safe place. It was starting to feel like no matter what they would do, they would die.

The trio jogged to a stop. The man in the colourful shirt was wiping at his forehead, and his friend looked like he was about to collapse.

She leaned against the wall, feeling sweat slick down her skin. Her hand drifted to her pocket, watching the time tick down even further. The closer to zero she got, the more her body screeched at her to keep moving, to keep checking the rooms for the safe place.

Kiko managed to speak between her heaving breaths. "We can't carry on like this."

Colourful shirt man nodded. "Where could the safe place be?"

"We're never going to know with that tagger constantly chasing us."

The friend looked up, exchanging a knowing look with the two of them. "We need a distraction."

"I'll do it."

Kiko stared at the blonde haired man. He was lean, most likely didn't actively exercise. His hands didn't look like the kind that would often initiate brawls. The thought of him being the distraction was laughable.

It took Kiko a moment to realise the men were waiting for Kiko to add her input. "Do you have an idea where the safe place is?"

"Not a clue."

"Fantastic," she muttered. "Do you think you can find it?"

The friend was silent for a moment, staring at Kiko with an intensity she struggled to look away from. "I know I can."

Sighing, she pushed herself away from the wall. "Then lets help you out as much as we can." Kiko gestured one half of her scissors to her fellow volunteer. "You're going to want this."

He took the pitiful weapon thankfully. "If we're going to fight to the death together, can I at least learn your name?"

"Kiko."

"Karube, and the guy who's going to save the day is Arisu."

Arisu nodded awkwardly as Karube hit his back. With a weak smile, Karube and Kiko parted ways from Arisu, hands shaking as they walked openly into danger.

[everythingisgayandnothinghurts]

Secrets, Secrets are No Fun

This was from a prompt that Carlos got a drunken piercing and decided to hide it for a little while from TK.  Cue the longest week of TK’s week as his mind goes to much worse places.  

The only light they had was from the TV mounted on the opposite wall with the volume turned down low.  TK much preferred the view of his boyfriend’s skin than whatever could be playing on the screen.  He had a hand around the back of Carlos’s neck and his tongue was happily sweeping against the roof of the latino’s mouth to make the other man shiver pleasantly.  It was early enough that they could spend some quality time together before it was time for bed.  His hand slowly moved lower to slip underneath Carlos’s shirt to stroke the soft, toned skin of his stomach when their kiss was gently broken unexpectedly and Carlos was looking at him apologetically.

“Sorry, Carino,” He said softly with one last peck to his lips.  “I’m really sore from my shift today.  I think I’m going to take something for it and head to bed.”

He was gone before TK could think about protesting.  He sat on the couch a bit dumbfounded and unable to process how weird that was.  Carlos had been up to taking himi apart when he had three broken ribs a few months ago and now with some muscle aches he was cutting them off before things could really start to heat up?  TK understood, but he still thought it was pretty strange behavior.  He moodily went back to watching the show playing on TV, the dismissal still rubbing him the wrong way even though it hadn’t been meant to sting.  It wasn’t until a commercial played with someone featured that looked a lot like Alex that he figured out why this was bothering him so much.  

He’d seen this before and it had taken him a minute to realize.

This is what Alex had done for months to him before the failed proposal.  The entire time he was cheating he found any excuse possible to slip away from him when they became intimate.  It was always something believable enough that he couldn’t argue, but still rather strange.  He was put aside and dismissed until Alex had no choice but to get rid of him in pieces.  It made his blood freeze when he realized and something heavy settled on his chest.   Alex had been the reason for his overdose.  He had almost died.  He couldn’t survive that kind of pain again.  It had left him empty for months and he was barely starting to truly be himself.  

The mere thought of having that kind of pain again made his breathing quicken.

He felt absolutely ridiculous at the tears slipping down his cheeks.  He knew this wasn’t like last time.  Carlos would never even think about cheating on him.  Their relationship was true, real and steady.  TK was falling in love again and this time he was completely safe with Carlos holding his heart.  He was being awful for even thinking this was the same thing.

Then again, hadn’t he thought the same thing when Alex pulled away?

~~

“Are we really back to this, Strand?” Judd’s voice rang out across the locker room and this was really the worst day he could have picked to start a fight.  Carlos had been avoiding him for a week now and his paranoia was getting the best of him and he was so damn angry.  He was angry at himself for once again being too afraid to just ask Carlos if he was cheating, and he was angry at the world for having this happen yet again.  Why couldn’t he just be happy?  Why was that too much to ask?

“Get off my back,” TK snapped in return as he shoved his gear into his locker.  He wanted to be grateful the shift was almost over, but then he had to go home and face Carlos’s weird behavior and have his mind run wild at the possibilities.  His mind had decided Carlos was cheating on him the way Alex had before, but he had no proof in the slightest.  Carlos never went anywhere besides the police station and home as far as he knew.  Except one night last week he had gone out with Michelle to that same gay club they had taken Paul to drink and have a good time.  TK had had no problem letting Carlos let off some steam with his boyfriend while he was waiting at home with aspirin and a glass of water before tucking a drunk Carlos into bed.  Was that when Carlos had slept with someone else?  DId he want a guy he could go out and have fun with instead of a guy riddled with problems that couldn’t take a sip of alcohol?  

“I’ll get off your back when you get it through your thick skull how to follow an order,” Judd folded his arms across his chest with a mixture of disappointment and anger on his face.  TK knew he had a tendency to take much greater risks when his mental health was suffering and this week he was finding it hard to deal with anything.  He was so scared Carlos was cheating, or had cheated, that he wasn’t sleeping and therefore had been having panic attacks all week.  He was exhausted and missed when everything was peaceful in his small world.   He had run into a fire against a direct order from Judd, and then his dad as well.  The building hadn’t been stable and TK had gone in anyways to save the last civilian inside.  It had been a heroic act, but also a very stupid one that had ignored orders.  “You could have been killed!”

“Well, if I had then you wouldn’t have to put up with someone not listening to you.”  TK knew that Judd was still suffering silently with his own problems and his offhand comment about dying on a call was a low blow, but he couldn’t find the energy to care.  

“Man, come on,” Judd pleaded with him.  “Don’t be like that.  We are just looking out for you.  I know you knew that building was compromised.  I wasn’t telling you anything you didn’t already know.  Why would you run into something like that?  I thought you were past the stage of being a spoiled brat.”

TK had to fight against a sob at the light jab that really meant nothing.  He knew he had started this fight and that Judd’s comment was only out of frustration and not of any true malice.  Alex had called him a brat when they would fight constantly.  He always teased him for his dad spoiling him and being his favorite back in New York.  There had just been too many reminders of Alex’s manipulative behavior this week and this was one jab he couldn’t stomach.  

“Kid, talk to me,” Judd’s voice was much softer now as a hand came to his shoulder to stop his path to the showers.  “What’s going on, little brother?  You’ve been off all week.”

“I think Carlos is cheating on me,” TK broke down and told the first person other than himself what he was terrified of.  “He’s been acting weird and pushing me away all week long.  This is how my ex acted for months before he told me he found someone else.  I can’t go through it again.  I can’t handle it.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Judd brought him into a light hug when it was obvious TK’s insubordination was more out of upset than anything.  “Carlos would never cheat on you, I mean that.  He’s not that kind of guy.  He’s crazy about you.”

“I thought that about Alex too,” TK said miserably as he swiped at his eyes and sniffed a few times.  The truth was he would survive Carlos cheating on him, but that kind of pain terrified him.  

“He knows he’d be castrated between your Dad and I if he even thought about cheating on you, kiddo,” Judd teased with a ruffle of his hair.  When TK glanced up he saw the other man’s eyes filled with sympathy and compassion.  “We’ve got your back no matter what, but I really don’t think he would ever even think about it.”

“I’m sorry about today,” TK muttered with his cheeks heating up.  “I act stupid when I have personal shit going on.  It’s a thing that I’m not exactly proud of.”

“You’ll make me grey before I’m forty I swear,” Judd patted him on the back a few times before giving his shoulder a squeeze and letting TK get on with his shower before he would head home.  He really had to talk to Carlos before things got out of hand more than they already had.  He knew the conversation wouldn’t change whatever the truth was.  Who didn’t love living in ignorance sometimes though?

~~~

TK had had the day off and he spent the whole thing pacing around Carlos’s house and psyching himself up for a conversation that made his stomach disappear.  He had to do it tonight and get it over with.  His stuff was already packed up, what little he had acquired over the last few months, and if the case was Carlos had found someone out he would calmly walk out and pick himself up again.  He would not tear himself apart if the worst case scenario was true.  His dad still needed him around and that would have to be enough to keep him strong.  

The headlights swept across the front window and TK sat on the couch with his knee jiggling impatiently as he waited for Carlos to come inside.  He ached for the days when those headlights had him stripping his clothes with a smirk on his face.  It had been ten long days since Carlos had hinted at wanting anything more than a few kisses from him.  Their whole relationship wasn’t about sex, but TK definitely felt closer being physically intimate with a partner.  

“TK?” Carlos closed the front door with a fond smile and took off his shoes.  “I’m so glad you’re here.  I’ve had a long day and seeing  you has made everything else worth it honestly.  Want to order some dinner?”

“Yeah, our usual pizza?” TK was glad for the distraction when the sight of Carlos made his throat tighten.  It was one thing to think of the most amazing man he knew cheating, but seeing those kind eyes and imagining them looking at anyone else the same way had his heart breaking.  

“You alright?” Carlos’s voice softened and of course the world’s best boyfriend would know when he wasn’t okay.  He couldn’t take the kindness right now.  If Carlos was going to break his heart then he needed to just get it over with.  

“Are you cheating on me?” TK’s voice shook horribly as he finally got out the question that had been bothering him for over a week.  He was proud he held his tears back as they instinctively wanted to fall.

“What?  Am I what?” Carlos’s look of shock seemed genuine enough and suddenly TK was thrown back to when he had accused Alex of the same and the waves of anger that followed.  Turns out he was right in the end, but he was afraid he had made Carlos angry at the accusation of something so horrible.  Could he ever understand that he was being judged by another man who had wronged him?  Did Carlos understand that TK was still barely held together with tape and glue after putting himself back together?

“I’m sorry,’ TK mumbled.  “I’m being stupid.”

“Hey, love, look at me,” Carlos’s hand came to cup his cheek as he forced their eyes to meet.  This time he couldn’t hold the tears back.  “I am so sorry for whatever I did to make you think that.  I would never do that to you.”

“You haven’t wanted to be with me for ten days,” TK said shyly as he nuzzled the hand on his cheek.  

Whatever reaction he expected it wasn’t for Carlos to turn the darkest shade of red he had ever seen and start swearing in Spanish under his breath.  

“Carlos?” TK was confused now and wondered what was actually going on.  That reaction wasn’t one of guilt so maybe his fears were as unfounded as Judd had told him they were.  Maybe his anxiety bran was thankfully wrong this time and had blown all of this out of proportion.  

“Dios mio,” Carlos muttered as he stripped off his shirt slowly and TK couldn’t miss the wince when he did so.  “I did this and I was too embarrassed to show you until it was healed.”

TK followed the vague gesture to his boyfriend’s chest and couldn’t miss the red and inflamed skin there.  He looked closer and saw a shimmer of silver and realized a ring was framing Carlos’s right nipple.  A fucking ring was sitting right there and had been the reason for so much grief.  One barely suppressed giggle was all it took before TK was laughing harder than he had in weeks and having to lean on the back of the couch to keep him upright.  The red deepened on Carlos’s cheeks as his boyfriend crossed his arms and looked away.  

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” TK gasped out as he tried to reign in his laughter and try to figure out what was going on.  “When the hell did that happen?”

“The night I went drinking with Michelle,” Carlos muttered   “Drunk me is a complete idiot and thought this was a good idea.  I thought you might hate it, but I didn’t take it out in case you liked it but then I wanted it to look better before I showed it to you.”  Carlos sighed a long suffering sigh before his brow furrowed and he looked at TK with a level look.  “Why would you ever think I was cheating?”

“It’s what my ex did,” TK replied, his mood sobering as quickly as it had broken down in laughter.  “When he was two timing me he pushed me away for weeks before that and called me crazy when I mentioned something was wrong.  I’m sorry I assumed the worst.”

“I’m so sorry,” Carlos came close, pressing a kiss to his cheek.  “That must have been awful for you.”

“Work hasn’t loved me this week.” TK grinned at him and felt the tension that had gathered in his stomach finally leave.  He happily wrapped his arms around Carlos’s waist and looked thoughtfully at the piercing next to his line of sight.  “I think drunk Carlos has some pretty good ideas.  The piercing suits you.”

“That’s all that matters is what you think.” Carlos hugged him tightly and TK surged onto his toes to kiss Carlos deeply like he hadn’t had a chance to all week.  

“We can have some real fun with that,” TK whispered against Carlos’s lips as he led him back to the bedroom.  He was planning some pleasurable torture for the week he had just endured due to a tiny piece of metal.  

[dashielldeveron]

Viper VIII: Inter Vivos

*author slaps bumper sticker across ass that reads I BREAK FOR QUARANTINE* 

Summary: You have a thought that only Steve Urkel and black-out drunks can have: did I do that?

Warnings: swears, the law. Murder/death. Stupid internet comments.

Show (3719) Comments on “There is Nothing New Under the Sun, But You Are New in Your Conglomeration.”

skellingtonbabey: thanks for putting all of the *gestures vaguely* into historical context. no one’s ever bothered to explain this shit to me, especially in such simple and thorough language. it’s like every other resource i try to learn from is stylistically designed to make me more confused.

readyplayer69: Just because it’s from the 60s and is racist doesn’t mean that it doesn’t have intrinsic value based on the goal towards which it was working. You’re a fucking lunatic. I have a degree in political science, so I know what the fuck I’m about. Though some of the protests may have excluded the minorities you’re talking about, it doesn’t mean that they weren’t ultimately working towards good fucking policies for everyone involved. It’s not like they were doing anything important then anyway; white people had to be the mouthpiece for…Read More

volcanolesbian: bro have u seen the incels freaking out over this???? it got linked in their cursed forum and they SO BADLY wanted u 2 hate women now. like you can regress from being a feminist once you’ve woken up. they’re giving u shit bc you called out the racist terrorists who were active in their community lmao. i can post screenshots if u want. But bruv it’s like they haven’t read anything you’ve written before lol

mozARTsexandviolins: I get when you say that ingenuity spawns ideals for the greater good, but don’t you think tradition has its place? How do we know if the new can spawn the greater good? How do we judge ourselves? Who watches the watchers?

simpleplan2eatthedirt: cool cool nice nice.  protesting is awesome, but be sure to get out there to fucking VOTE, people!!! Here’s a link to register to vote.

EaterJohn: Hello. It is nice to hear from you again, Epiales. Always a treat. Very insightful commentary on modern and past protests. I didn’t know about all of the revolutions in Europe 1848. I’ve send this to my co, and it’s already sparked a good conversation about who we are as a protesting people as we stand in history. Again, sorry to bother you, but I was wondering when the next article in your “Aeneid Autopsies: Current Crimes Reflected in Ancient Times” series was going to be released? It’s my…Read More

horneyvulcanbasterd: @mozARTsexandviolins Is that a Star Trek reference? Bc if so the answer’s Starfleet Command lol

MrsKatsukiBakagou: epiales. you have watered my crops and harvested my fields. thank you for the food.

mightiestavengereatmyass: eat shit and die, commie scum. your just a hired propagandaist for the fucking alt-left, aren’t you? You have no right to be running your collum in a real newspaper or on this fucking website. sending u anthrax in the mail would be too cool a death for you. I hope your so-called terrorist groupsfind out where you live and fucking murder you in the middle of the night. fukcs like you are the reason the country is going to shit the police have a total constitutional right int aht jurisdiction to enter. They had a no knock…Read More

fuckyouit’sjanuary: @readyplayer69 [image attached] [image description: blonde woman with caption reading, “I can tolerate racism, but I draw the line at looting the local target]

saltnpepa!!diner707: Hi. I’m trying to cite this piece in an essay, but your publisher isn’t listed on your website. Would you suggest using the NYT as the source in my bib? If it helps, this is due new week; idk if this will run in the NYT by then. Thanks

“I’m sending someone on a grocery run this morning,” said Tom, thumbs tapping away on his phone, “Do you need anything? Want anything?”

You glanced up from your laptop, closing it as much as you could without the light dimming. “I think I’m good, unless you used the last of the shredded cheese at some point.”

“Shredded…cheese,” he said under his breath, typing, “You mentioned capri-suns the other day.”

“Yeah, but I can tolerate the nasty, new flavour. No rush. Here’s a wild idea,” you said, and you waited until he looked up from his phone, a couple of ungelled curls falling over his forehead. “What if—now, don’t dismiss me as crazy; hear me out—what if we went to the store ourselves?”

“Again, no.” Tom grasping his coffee by the round of the mug, despite there being a perfectly functional handle. “Stop pressing me for it.”

“I’m not asking to go to a damn Broadway play. I’m asking to go to the closest 7-11,” you said, jiggling your leg and then making a conscious decision to stop fidgeting, instead scooting your chair closer under the table so that the arms slid underneath.

Tom hummed, his eyes not leaving his phone screen, but when you didn’t continue, he raised an eyebrow as he scowled at you. “Broadway is shut down because of the bomb threat.”

“Fuck off; you know what I meant.”

“Viper,” said Tom, and he locked his phone to set it on his napkin. “Do you want to get assassinated?”

“The term assassination implies I’m getting murdered for political reasons instead of the copious other crimes you’ve had me commit. So, I invite it.” Put your hands on the table where he can see them; it makes you seem more trustworthy. “Does 7-11 have an open carry policy?”

“If it’s any consolation, the renovated office should be waiting for you when you return.”

“It’s not.” You lifted your mug to your lips. “Working from here only makes me feel like a damn bureaucrat. Like I have no stake in the matter. I don’t want to become detached from everything; I might make a callous decision and send people where they can’t come back.”

“Keep watching yourself. If you stay on guard,” said Tom, running his middle finger around the rim of his mug, “then you won’t stray from me.”

“I’m useless here.”

“Then maybe you should become accustomed to the idea of being useless.”

Swallowing, you stared down into your tea. “There’s only so much I can get done through answering emails. Not to mention I hate answering emails. That’s how you get more emails.”

“Harrison has been telling me that your schematics have been more thorough since you’ve been holed up in here.” Tom tipped his mug all the way back to get the last of his coffee. “You’re still being just as productive, if not more methodical.”

“Did you mean obsessive? I have—I’ve had too much time to think. I’d rather not be alone with my thoughts, if I can help it.”

***

You could only read so much before losing your mind. You could only deal with so many of the same exact problems over and over again for lower level soldiers. You could only chart so many stars. You could only read so much fanfiction (if your identity thief were tracking your phone, he’d probably be baffled as to why you kept reading fic for fandoms you weren’t even a part of due to the desire for new ideas).

You could only give Glory Pham so many excuses as to why you’re not with her in person at the Museum of Natural History.

Sucking in through your teeth, you hovered your fingers above the keyboard.

Dear Ms. Pham,

Glad to hear John Mulaney’s signed on. Next step would be to ensure de Blasio doesn’t directly interact with him, given their history. Perhaps I should proof his set beforehand?

Unfortunately, I regret to inform you that I cannot attend the briefing in person yet again. I am currently indisposed, seeing as I am currently in hiding at my hot boss’s house, due to how dead I might be should I leave it (thus the basis of its appeal). Not to mention that if you criticise my blazer choices again, I shall peel the skin off your perfectly made-up face. Get fucked; getting your eyeliner tattooed on was a hell of a decision.

You shook your head, backspaced the last few lines, and stretched towards the wicker end table to grab your glass of pink lemonade, and you stole a glance at Tom’s work as you did so. A couple of files spread across his white wicker lounger (two blue files [socials of the family], two green [recent bids], a yellow [Manhattan locations], and a brown [requests from politicians, upper East side]). The pink sticky-notes had your and his written exchanges and edits on certain papers, and his laptop was open, the screen dimmed, while he copied something into a notebook with his cell phone held between his shoulder and his ear, just listening to the computerised voice.

He had joined you on the back porch to work remotely, claiming he couldn’t go into the city today due to the absence of news on Zendaya—if any information arose, he’d said he wanted your diagnosis immediately.

You wiped your forehead with your sleeve as a sweat drop slinked behind Tom’s ear. Even Tessa wouldn’t run in the heat; she’d curled up by the porch railing, her tail slapping against her water bowl. In an experiment to see if she wanted to spend some time outside, you’d slid the glass door open for Trout, to which she turned around to retreat to the bedroom.

Not all of the clothes you’d ordered had arrived yet, so you were stuck wearing autumnal clothes with long sleeves. To exacerbate matters, you were constantly moving—jiggling your leg, tapping your fingers—you couldn’t sit still for very long anymore; you had taken to pacing the porch when you couldn’t concentrate on the stars.

(Once, Tom had come out at night to check on you, wiping the sleep out of his eyes and sitting in silence with you. He’d made you go to bed after a while, claiming you’d run yourself into the ground if you kept this restlessness up.)

When your phone beeped, the both of you jolted at the sound. Tom hung up on the robotic voice as you scrambled to your phone, and he bent your way. “Is it Zendaya?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you shook your head. “No. Looks like it’s a jailbreak.”

Tom sighed, his shoulders heaving as he eased back in his seat. “Where from?”

“I don’t even care,” you said, letting your phone fall to your lap. You slumped back in your chair, shielding your eyes from the sun with your arm. But you straightened yourself again and checked. “From Central. They don’t even know who’s all escaped yet.”

“It’d be too much of a gift if New York City would fucking relax for five minutes.”

“It seems like it’s in more uproar than usual lately,” you said, sipping through the reusable straw of your pink lemonade. “Do you suppose it’s our fault?”

Tom took a moment to pluck his damp t-shirt away from his chest. “I don’t think we’re instigating. If anything, we’re simply reacting to chaos.” He stood up and stretched, raising his arms above his head—his biceps strained at the sleeves, and the hem rose above his v-lines. “Unless you’re doing something I don’t know about.”

Ah, casual suspicion. “You’ve caught me,” you said as he approached Tessa and crouched next to her, “I’ve been running a koi smuggling gig on the side.”

“Why koi?” He held out his hand for Tessa to sniff, and she readily accepted his hand for pats. “Are they hard to get?”

“I don’t know,” you said, shrugging, “but I’ve been wondering if they’d be able to survive in your grist mill pond. You look through that water straight to the bottom, nothing living in your way. Just rocks and old equipment.”

Tom sat against the porch railing with a jittery Tessa partially in his lap. “Should we get some?”

“Oh, fuck off, Tom,” you said, grinning, a sweat drop falling onto your mousepad as you shook your head, “You can’t entertain every little pipedream I have.”

“Watch me. What do you want for Christmas?”

You ducked your head, biting your lip. “Promise me something.”

“Provided it’s not my head on a stake, I will,” he said, scratching Tessa behind her ears and cringing a bit when she stretched to lick his face.

“Then we’re going in person to the pre-opening fundraising gala for the Gawain Diamond.”

Tom narrowed his eyes. “Viper.”

“Bitch, I got John Mulaney to sign on to do the opening monologue, and he’s probably gonna roast de Blasio again. I’m not missing that.”

Your phone blared an alert again, and both of you held your breath as you unlocked it.

“Got a list of prisoners who escaped. Small group. Delores, Larson, Duncan, Mays, Selvin,” you said, “There’s more, but I don’t know them. Tell us something important, by God. Anyway, we’re going. I didn’t say I was going alone, did I? You’ll be there. I’ll be safe, and you’ll be safe.”

His jaw shifting to the side, Tom stilled his hand on Tessa’s back, and then he lifted it to flick sweat off his neck. “How many of us maximum can you get in?”

“It’s a fundraiser for idiotic rich people; if there are too many people without a name, they’ll be noticed.”

“It can’t be just us.”

“Why? Afraid you can’t protect me on your own?”

“Now, don’t start that.” Tom herded Tessa off his lap and onto her outside bed. “I’m not falling for it.”

“Yes, yes, I’m fully aware you’re capable of ripping me in half,” you said, draining your pink lemonade, the airy suction coming through your straw (almost loud enough that you couldn’t hear Tom’s sputtering over it—almost—and his phone beeping). “Want me to get that?”

“Bring it here,” he said, and you snatched it while he sat on the railing, dangling his legs off the side.

“It’s,” you said, eyebrows shooting to your hairline as you read the little notification, “It’s a tweet from Zendaya.” You tossed it to him to unlock and leant on the railing next to him, arm grazing his thigh with a heightened awareness of how close you were to his sweaty, sweaty abdomen. No! No time to thirst. Friend time.

Tom unlocked his phone and held it at your eye level, turning it horizontally as he pulled up the tweet.

ZENDAYA (@ZendayaMedias): Felt cute. Might delete later.

[video]

Tom pulled up the clip, waiting for it to load. “Why didn’t she post it to instagram, then?”

“The finer details of social media are an enigma. Do I look like I know,” you said, and his thumb hovered over the play button.

He cranked the volume up before pressing play, having to try twice due to how slippery his fingers were. “I wonder if Haz has seen this yet.”

A vertical shot of a murky, grey sky from the bow of a boat and dark ocean as far as the camera can see. It pans across the starboard side, and this boat is the only one in sight.

Only the sound of waves striking the boat.

The camera tilts down. Zendaya’s writhing on the deck, furiously straining against rope bonds that line up the entirety of her arms and up her calves; she’s yelling furiously at the person behind the camera through duct tape.

Scuffed, black boots roll Z to the starboard gunwale. She’s still fighting, still shouting.

The camera trucks to the right; before, the pair of cinderblocks attached to her feet were concealed. It returns to her face. A glove grabs part of her hair to show the weights tied into it. She bucks up to headbutt the camera; he avoids it.

Tom clenched his free hand on his thigh. “We’re running another scan for that black-stubble bell jackass from her instagram; did we have any fucking leads at all? What’s his fucking motivation? So he slept with her, allegedly; did she say no to a second time? Doesn’t fucking merit—”

The boot kicks the cinderblocks off the boat, and the camera tilts down to follow the trail of bubbles.

It’s quiet.

But then the camera pans to portside, where the guy in the picture with Zendaya is similarly tied up, but he’s openly weeping and shaking his head. He’s got something drawn on his forehead in black marker. The cameraman steps closer to focus on it: it’s a circle with an upward curve resting on top of it.

He’s still wearing the bell necklace.

Then the cameraman backs away and raises a gloved hand, in which a gun is aimed at the other’s forehead.

The bullet goes through the circle, and the bell rattles as he’s kicked off. Fewer bubbles.

Then the camera tilts up to show off the boat’s surroundings: a black and barren ocean, as far as the eye can see.

When the video started to loop, Tom switched his screen off, his phone hanging loosely in his grip. You released of his thigh once you noticed you’d grabbed onto him, and the evidence of your touch faded as the fabric relaxed.

His eyes glossed over at the blank screen, and his mouth opened before closing again, running his tongue over his lower lip. Tom brought a fist to his mouth and furrowed his brow, his hand hardly concealing the growing tremble of his jaw.

You took a step away from him, rubbing your arms as you ducked your head. “I’m going back inside,” you said, hoping Trout felt like being clutched to your chest, “I’m cold.”

***

The next morning, your mouth felt heavy and dry. You sneaked out as the sun was rising to go hide in the woods surrounding Tom’s house, but you talked yourself out of it. He would make too much of a fuss if he couldn’t find you—but you could delay the inevitable conversation even further. Both of you had separated and kept to yourselves the rest of the evening. Kept quiet.

So you rounded the outside of the house. You’re not camping out in a fucking copse. When you reached the pond, you scanned it for a dry place to hide, but nothing really held any appeal, save for the rounded platform where the mill wheel used to spin, its spoke notches overflowing with moss. You managed to get to it after scrambling alongside the stones for a few minutes, and though it didn’t look like you could get down the same way, you settled against the wall, scraping some moss out of the notches so that your feet could rest more comfortably in them.

(Dr. Prine called ten minutes after you sent her the email. “Did you send me the correct article?”

“Yeah,” you said, rubbing your face wash onto your cheeks, “Considering it’s the only one I have ready, and I can’t bring myself to write anything. I tried. I just fucking can’t.”

“I don’t think you want this published at this point in your life.”

“I don’t fucking care. Whoever’s using my pen name probably knows who the fuck I am in general. Just publish it.”

“Honey,” said Dr. Prine, her voice softening (and fumbling, like she was holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder), “You should probably rethink this. It’s going to connect Epiales you back to Viper you. Get some sleep; eat breakfast. Call me back then.”

“It’s an appropriate article for the political climate.”

“Not for your personal life.”

“I don’t fucking care,” you said between splashing water on your face, “I don’t. It’s a good fucking article, and hopefully, it can affect people for the upcoming election. Fuck self-preservation. Send it to the Times already.”

“Did I dial the wrong number?”

“Hilarious, Dr. Prine. I know it’s not the smartest thing for me to do, but I can’t—absolutely can’t—write anything. I don’t know for how long, but for now, at least.” You blotted your face dry. “I’ve got to meet standard deadlines if I’m keeping my column. It’s really only dangerous if Tom reads it and makes the connection, and his brain is offline right now.”

And so Aeneid Autopsies: Current Crimes Reflected in Ancient Times, chapter twelve, “The Political Tradition as Mob Rule,” would be published on Saturday. It’s a little too in the know about the mafia, but hey, you had written it on a whim a month ago, and you were known for your extensive research, anyway. It most likely shouldn’t be too different from your other exposés, though they weren’t on topics that were deliberately misleading the public by what information was out there.

The more you thought about it, it was almost like you wanted to reveal yourself, wanted to get stabbed while you were sleeping, because there’s an overwhelming question rolling around in your brain like a mis-weighted shooter marble: is this—)

“It’s not your fault.”

With crossed arms, Tom leant against the stone wall, his leg bent back for his bare foot to rest flat against it. He glanced sideways at you, sitting on your mill wheel perch almost halfway across the pond, but closer to the far side than to him.

He’s got major bedhead, his curls just fucking flopping about out of his part, and even from where you are, his face burned red amidst wet tracks trailing down it. Still, thank God for little mercies—his biceps were fucking straining the sleeves of his white t-shirt, and those idiotic, blessed grey sweatpants were low on his hips.

You lifted your head from your knees but still clutched them to your chest. “You’re not going out, then?”

“Of course not,” Tom said, and he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Can’t be crying during a meeting, yeah?”

“Been boxing?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Not really.”

He ran his tongue over his lower lip and sighed, and then he slid his hands into his pockets, his eyes glossing over while he watched the moss you’d picked off float in the pond.

You’re not going to fucking cry. Tom came out here for a reason. He has a purpose. All you have to do is wait.

Eventually, he said, “You’re avoiding what I said.”

You tilted your head.

“Listen, I know you’re beating yourself up about it. It’s not your fault this happened. None of this is your fault. Hey.” Tom tapped the wall, the travelling reverberations making you look up at him. “Whoever’s doing this is doing it of their own volition and not because of you. You hold no culpability for this.”

“Bruh,” you said, “One of your best friends is dead, and you’re comforting me? I thought I was the masochist.”

Tom scowled, his brow furrowing. “Viper—”

“I can’t interact with someone without putting them in danger, at a disturbingly high rate. You want me to enumerate where I’ve stuck my nose in not my business and people have gotten killed? Senator Hernandez, Isadora,” you began, holding up two fingers, “The nine men guarding Isadora, Maccabruno, Polson—”

“Don’t you dare do that to yourself.” Tom took a step forward, his foot almost curving into the pond. “You didn’t use the knife. You didn’t pull any triggers.”

“Yeah, but I sent them there. And a good many of them went because it was their job.” You sneered and propped your chin on your knees again.

“And it’s part of your job—”

“Yeah, whatever. Your friend is dead, and I have no home. I’ve stopped contacting the few people in my circle on the chance that they get dragged into this—Grace, Adrien—he’s the lights specialist guy, in case you don’t remember—I’ve got to email Glory, but that can’t be helped. And Dr. Prine only—fuck,” you said, dragging your hands down your face. “I don’t want anything to fucking happen to Dr. Prine. Or your family, for that matter.”

“Everyone not involved in the business is currently in hiding upstate,” said Tom, eyes narrowed as he glared at you. “If you like, I can ensure the same—”

“Stop acting so damn calm, Tom.” You let your legs dangle off the platform, hands clenching the edges. “I don’t have any strings left to pull. And fucking hell, I know that it would be extremely and absurdly conceited of me to believe that this series of crimes is aimed specifically at me, because how deluded, how arrogant could I get—but goddammit, this stuff feels a little too personalised. It feels like this person knows me.”

Tom clicked his tongue. “Don’t you think it’s worth something that Glory Pham has been left alone? He knows how to get into Crosscreek, yet Glory hasn’t been touched. Is that not worthwhile?”

Your eyes watered, but you ducked your head so that he couldn’t see—but you released a dry sob (Fuck! Now is not the time for crying! Now is the time for being badass! Frown, or something!).

Tom spoke so quietly you almost didn’t catch it. “Do you want to leave?”

God, no. But it would make you feel like less of a burden. “Let me find an apartment first.”

“No, not like that. Hey, V. Look at me,” he said, and he tapped on the wall again.

You wouldn’t. Not like this. Not when your nose was running and when you didn’t have a plan.

“Please look at me, Viper.”

Glowering, you raised your head, lifting your chin higher than normal to seem confident, and oh, God—his eyes were wide and gentle; he’s leaning as far as he can over the pond, still unable to reach you.

“What I meant was if you wanted to leave the mob.”

It rang through your head like a distant cathedral bell, chiming through a deserted town—but then you were farther, out on the mountains, still listening to faint clanging.

“You’d have to kill me,” you said, shaking your head, “Don’t you remember?”

“Fuck,” Tom was saying, sucking in through his teeth, and after glancing at the water, he started jogging around the pond.

“I swore. I bled. And then even after that—then you knighted me.” You inhaled sharply when he reached the stones you’d climbed. “I’ve let you down.”

“Viper, get the fuck down from there and come here,” he said, and he withdrew, winching, when he stepped on a sharp edge.

“We shouldn’t have met,” you said, looking over your shoulder at him, and Tom froze, his hand partially gripping a hole in the stone wall. “I shouldn’t have taken the job. I should have gone to a different city. I should have—”

“Wasted your life away in the shadows? Just shut up and get down here.”

“Ah! The fuck?” You swatted his hand away when it grazed the platform, and when he climbed up another step, you pushed yourself off the platform and into the pond.

The first thing that struck you was how quiet everything was once the bubbles dissipated, and then you noticed how clear the water was, even from within it—glancing down, you could easily see your feet treading water above the broken grist mill wheels that had sunken to the bottom.

Before you could take it in to feel the emptiness in your chest, bubbles filled your vision again—and then his hands were grappling for you, grasping at your clothes, and pulling you towards the surface.

“I wasn’t fucking drowning,” you said, sliding a hand back through your hair, while Tom shook his head to flick off excess water. “I was fine without—”

“I know you weren’t.” Tom gripped your waist tightly enough to be painful, and he slid his other hand up between your shoulder blades. “I know. You wouldn’t die on me, and I’m not letting anyone else lay their hands on you. C’mon, arms around.”

He guided your arms around his waist, and once you had a good grip (hands sliding up his back), he kicked off to swim to the stone wall, backing you into it. Your toes skimmed the bottom of the pond, but Tom kept your head above the water, his thumbs circling your hipbones through your wet clothes.

Tom closed his eyes, his eyelashes heavy with water droplets. “There’s no solution to this where you die, got it?”

“Shucks.”

“I mean it. Talk to me. Tell me what you can.” Tom let out a breath slowly, and he bent to rest his forehead on your shoulder. “Please,” he said once you tensed up, his breath hot through your wet shirt, “Won’t you let me in?”

(Fuck fuck fuck fuck his chest is flush against yours; he’s so warm, so damn warm all over, and the water’s chill only makes you want to cling to him more, fuck.)

“You won’t like me,” you said, tentatively lifting a hand to curl your fingers into his hair, pulling slightly, “I’m not whom I’ve presented to you. I don’t have it under control.”

“I don’t expect you to.” Tom turned his head towards you; his lips almost grazed your neck (you relish their warmth anyway). “You wouldn’t be human, otherwise.”

“I don’t know an awful lot. Some days it seems like all I do is guesswork.” You grimaced but kept the slim distance from Tom’s mouth. If he wanted to, he would. “I’m lost completely on whoever the fake Epiales is. I keep looking for a pattern in everything, even—even so far back as to—”

You stuttered. Tom had pressed his lips to the base of your neck.

“There’s no consistency,” he said, nuzzling his nose against the spot where your neck met shoulder, “but there’s got to be a larger plan. I get it. The whole case is like a hydra, and we’re chopping blindly at the heads.”

(Oh, my God, he kissed you? He kiss the neck? He?)

“Oh! I forgot to tell you.” Tom pulled away to look you in the eye, and your mouth hung open of its own accord—come back! “I made myself watch the video again.” His jaw shifted. “To see if I missed anything, and I did. This time, I recognised the symbol on the guy’s forehead.” Tom lightly traced it onto your forehead with his middle finger. “It’s a zodiac symbol. It’s the one for Taurus.”

You nodded, still not really thinking at full capacity. “Great. Another piece of evidence that I won’t be able to make fucking sense of. Goddammit. I’m so useless. Goddammit,” you said, dropping your hand from his hair into the water with a splash. “Tom, I don’t talk to my mother much anymore. She doesn’t know where or who I am, and to be honest, I don’t know who I am, either. I don’t know where the truth is.”

You nearly slapped him when you cupped his cheek, like you were desperate, like you had to be touching him, skin on skin, that instant. It’d be nice if he would close his eyes and lean into your touch, maybe kiss your palm, but Tom simply stared at you in shock, eyes wide, brows raised, mouth pinched.

Don’t tell him, you whore. You built this fucking kingdom with its walls and bastions so that you would be safe when the outer defences crumbled. You’ve set aside parts of yourself into neat little boxes so that you can throw any of them away at any time and escaped unscathed. Don’t you fucking dare screw that up. Tom doesn’t know about Epiales so that you can expose and destroy him if you’re on his chopping block; it’s insurance for when everything falls.

Bitch, since when do you want to be honest and raw and vulnerable around anyone?

You can’t let him in.

“You’re still a woman of honour,” Tom said, and—oh, God, oh, fuck—he’s easing his hands down your body, his chest pressed against yours again, and he’s sliding them down your thighs to hook underneath your knees, and he’s hitched you up against the wall, the definition of his muscles real and palpable through the wet clothes, warm, warm, warm—

“I should apologise,” you said, turning your head to the side while he steered your legs around his waist, “I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now.”

“You can’t?” Tom shifted you upwards, and that’s it; your heat is directly against him; you can feel every pull and tensing of his tendons, and if he keeps moving the way he is, then you’ll—

“I’m so sorry for making this about me when Z was closer to you. We shouldn’t waste time on me; we need to be searching, arranging a funeral if we can’t find anything.” You scrunched your eyes shut.

“You’re deflecting.” Tom let out a shuddery sigh. “I’ve lost too many people. Don’t make me lose you when you’re right in front of me,” he said, and he pressed his lips right below your ear.

You flinched away on impulse but tried to relax into him, blinking profusely.

Tom pushed against you (not localised enough to qualify as a thrust), and he cleared his throat before pulling away from your neck. “Listen, please. Please.” He shifted your weight to one hand and gripped your chin with his freed one. His eyes flickered to your mouth before he moved to rest his hand on your cheek. “You’re invaluable. Irreplaceable. You are no burden and are not at fault.” He clenched his jaw. “But I know you’re keeping something from me, and I will make the answer fall from your lips soon.”

Your own chin was shaking, and he was too close. If you put aside separate-self-as-insurance for a moment, let’s consider Tom did find out about Epiales. Would he control you through it? Would he use you to influence those he couldn’t reach? Would he grab hold of Dr. Prine? He might squeeze your life and time through his fist, and your freedom would be gone. Epiales was your freedom, your space to create and connect.

He was too close.

“You’ve got to promise not to hate me,” you said, and when he raised an eyebrow, you made your decision to lean in.

“No,” he said, and—and your lips met his cheek.

He’d turned his head.

After all that, he’s going to turn his head?

“No,” he said again, taking your chin again and leading you away, back to leaning against the stone wall, “I don’t want our first kiss connected to the memory of mourning. I can wait a bit longer.”

Tom released your legs, letting them sink. “You once told me that if you let yourself be vulnerable, you didn’t want an audience. I think,” he said, frowning, “I think you still see me as an outsider. As a member of that audience. And again, you said that you didn’t want it if it weren’t real.” He stepped away from you entirely, and he started wading towards the edge of the pond. “I’m going to hold you to the same standard. I’ll wait until you’re ready to be real with me.”

Tom slinked out of the pond, flicking away what excess water he could, and he squinted into the sun on the horizon. He shook his head, water flying, and he glanced back at you and scoffed. “Easy, sweetheart. No need to wear your heart on your sleeve now.”

His voice trailed off as he rounded the corner towards the door.

The sun is rising, and you feel rather cold.

***

inter vivos: between the living

***

taglist: @hollandroos @madmadmilk @parkerroos @parsleysbaby @z-ukos @pparkerwrites @lunamyangel @stealth-spiderr @presidentbttrflyfreak @paradoxparker @bi-writes @astronomyparkers @infamous-webhead @laurfangirl424 @softspideys @gryffinpuffs @plethoraofpuppies @laucontrerasv @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven @spiderboytotherescue @cassiopeiaskies

[sage-nebula]

Game Review — Final Fantasy: Crystal Chronicles Remastered Edition

About seventeen years ago, I played a Gamecube game called Final Fantasy: Crystal Chronicles, and for the most part I really loved it. I got lost in every single dungeon all the time, and I really hated the annoying moogle I had to drag around, but other than that I loved the game. So it makes sense, then, why I would be excited when I heard it was getting a remastered release on Switch.

Overall Score: 6/10

While I was happy to get a chance to play this game again, I feel like Square-Enix whacked both of its kneecaps in two different ways. One, they did a remaster instead of a remake, meaning they just gave it a little polish instead of fixing existing issues; and two, they decided for some reason to port it to mobile phones, which I feel created some issues, though I admit I don’t have any proof of that. While I still enjoyed my time with the game for the most part, it definitely receives a lower score than I think I would have given the original in my youth. More details under the cut, best viewed on my blog for formatting.

The Pros:

This isn’t specific to the remaster, but rather more about the game itself, but one thing I think is notable about the setting is that it’s essentially a post-apocalyptic story, but it’s one where the people haven’t completely fallen into despair and ruin. I mean, some places have; there’s a village called Tida whose caravan never returned and so they all died slow deaths of miasma as their crystal’s protection ran out. But in other villages, including the player’s hometown, people are living their lives as best they can. Some people are even trying to find a way to get rid of the miasma altogether. While of course there is much to stress about and also people’s memories being taken from them, overall the world looks a bit brighter than in most post-apocalyptic stories. It’s always nice when post-apocalyptic stories recognize that even after the end, life still goes on.

I’ve also always rather enjoyed the way the way the game constantly reminds you that you’re not the only caravan out on this journey. You encounter caravans from other towns and villages pretty often, and their stories intersect with yours, growing as the in-game years pass. It’s another thing that makes the world feel alive, because you see again and again that there are other heroes out there, heroes of their own stories, that you’re just one of many in this world trying your best to get by and keep your village alive.

The soundtrack is also something that deserves praise, because it has a very . . . Celtic, I think? flair to it that really suits the setting, especially since the narrator has (what I believe is) an Irish accent. I can’t think of a single bad song in the entire game, and many of them are catchy and bouncy and fun to listen to.

After each little cutscene or dungeon, you get an entry added to the in-game journal, and I enjoy those as well. It helps keep track of the little side stories going on (since they span over years), and I like how some of them change depending on the choices you’re given in any given cutscene. That said, I do have a slight issue with them as well, but I’ll discuss that in a different section.

If you play single-player, the game assigns a moogle named Mog to carry the crystal chalice through the dungeons with you so you don’t suffocate due to the miasma. (In multiplayer, another player has to carry it.) This results in Mog getting tired, saying, “I’m tired, kupo, it’s your turn!” and making you carry it sometimes anyway, even if you’re being chased by monsters. When I played this game as a kid, it seemed like he was saying this EVERY FIVE SECONDS and it was THE MOST annoying thing. But it didn’t feel as frequent this time, and when I looked it up, I saw that the devs actually did extend the amount of time Mog could carry the chalice before he got tired. I appreciated this very much, even if Mog was still annoying.

The Neutrals:

From what I can tell, there wasn’t really a graphics overhaul done, except to increase the jiggle physics on female Selkies, which . . . I’m not a prude, I don’t really care that much (even though it can be distracting), but of all the things you chose to fix, it was this? Square-Enix, please.

While on the one hand I like that there’s no set order that you can encounter the random travel cutscenes in, that they can happen whenever, because it makes it feel like a more realistic journey . . . it also creates the problem that the events will still trigger even if you’re already finished the associated quest line. For example, to get the Unknown Element that lets you reach the final boss area, you have to complete a series of actions in Lynari Desert. You find out what you have to do through a series of travel cutscenes with a swindler named Gurdy, who gives you poem verses that strongly hint at what you need to do. I had a few of these before I reached the desert, but not all of them, so I just looked up a guide to get the remainder of the instructions. Despite this, I still later triggered the final Gurdy cutscene, and so it was like my character was standing there with the desert treasure while Gurdy told her about the desert treasure . . . it’s not a huge deal, but it does show how the idea of having random travel cutscenes is kind of flawed. (Additionally, you can beat the game without even finishing certain stories as a result, so it’s entirely possible you could get to Mio and not know who she’s talking about in the end. It’s not game breaking, but it is a bit of an issue too.)

The Cons:

The LOADING TIMES, OH MY GOD. This game has the longest loading times of any game I have ever played on the Switch, and I confirmed with someone who has played the original a billion times that these loading time issues were not present in the original game, meaning they are a direct result of development on the “remaster.” Literally, the game goes to a blank loading screen that lasts a good minute or two for almost everything. For every cutscene you have, any time you leave or enter a place, hell, even QUITTING THE GAME has a “Closing Software” box for FAR LONGER than any other Switch title, to the point where it made me afraid for a moment that my Switch, brand new though it is, was broken. I don’t know why the loading times are so bad, but I personally blame it on Square-Enix wanting to make the game multiplatform (multiplatform including fucking cell phones), thus not optimizing it for any one console. And on a similar note . . .

Online multiplayer is region-locked. Yes, you read that right. Two friends who I’d originally intended to caravan with live in Europe, and since I live in North America, we were unable to play together since Square-Enix decided to region-lock online multiplayer. It is honestly the most batshit stupid thing I have ever heard of. The only reasoning I can think of for why they did this is because of mobile phone support; it’s entirely possible that there is something within a phone’s SIM card that would make it not possible to play multiplayer across different continents, but honestly I have trouble believing even that since I believe that’s not a problem in other mobile games. Either way, the entire point of online play is to be able to play with anyone, no matter where they are, and the fact that in the year 2020 Square-Enix decided it was a good idea to region-lock online play is fucking ridiculous.

A minor complaint, but you can’t use the left joystick to scroll between items in menus. You have to use the little arrow buttons instead. This was also the case in the Switch port of Final Fantasy XII, so I think it’s a Square-Enix preference thing, but it annoyed me and I wish they’d at least give the option to change button configuration around.

There’s backtracking as the years go on that I personally found kind of annoying, especially when it made me go to dungeons I didn’t particularly like. The thing is, the gameplay in FFCC doesn’t have a lot of variance; you go to three dungeons, you fight three bosses, then the year ends and you repeat it the next year. The only real variety is in the dungeons themselves as you get to explore new ones. But in Year 5, you HAVE to repeat dungeons because you’re blocked off from going to new areas. And at a certain point there stops being new dungeons altogether, so you have to repeat dungeons if you want to get myrrh for the village. And yeah, the dungeons are a bit harder each time, but the layout is still the same, and so it made what was already a repetitive style of gameplay even more repetitive, which honestly made me eager to finish it as quickly as possible despite wanting to grind as long as possible when I first got the game because I wanted to avenge my childhood self, who never managed to beat the final boss.

The four different races to choose from all have different styles of gameplay, and you can make multiple characters in one file to fill out your caravan / open specialty shops all around town. The problem is, the only character in the caravan who gets stat boosts and experience from the dungeons is the one who goes through them, and the dungeons get tougher each time they’re completed. So unless you constantly rotate your characters, creating more characters to fill out the caravan and be able to use different play styles per different boss (such as using a Yuke when facing a boss like Dragon Zombie who can really only be affected by magic) is a pointless waste of time because your extra characters won’t be strong enough to face the boss you need them to face. I don’t know if this was an issue in the original, but it’s definitely a disappointing issue here.

While some of the journal entries change depending on your answer choices, I found it disappointing that the journal entries don’t change (or at least don’t always) change depending on what type of character you chose to play as. The specific example I have in mind is that I chose to play as a Selkie, and through the course of the journey I of course traveled to Leuda, which is home of the Selkies. If you choose to play as a Selkie, you can participate in a minigame there and no one will steal from you. Additionally, since you see in various dungeons that Selkies have had a very rough time of it and for the longest time couldn’t put a home base anywhere, I had it in my head that my Selkie character would feel like she returned home, in a sense, even though she personally didn’t grow up in Leuda. I mean, this is the land of her people, this is where Selkie history is richest, this is the reward they got for all the suffering they experienced. (And sort of still do, since the other races tend to be prejudiced against them, and one Selkie in Leuda even says that he thinks everyone else wants Selkies to just disappear.) But despite all of this, the journal entry for Leuda states that the main character had their wallet stolen and never wants to go back. That sort of entry makes sense if you’re playing as one of the other three races, but it doesn’t fit Selkies at all and was pretty disappointing. That’s just one example, but I’m sure there were others, and it would have been nice if a bit more thought was put into play here.

All in all, I still think that Final Fantasy: Crystal Chronicles is a game worth playing. I really like the worldbuilding, as well as the characters, and I did have fun with it. With that said, though, I think that Square-Enix should have given this game a proper remake instead of a remaster, and should have made it a Switch exclusive (just as the original was a Gamecube exclusive) so that they could optimize it for the hardware, instead of being greedy and putting out one that didn’t play very well just so they could make cross-platform money. But despite those issues, if you want a unique action-RPG, I don’t think that FFCC’s remaster would be a bad choice to try out.

[byuncock]

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—

our relationship is fine. as fine as an arranged couple's marriage should be.

i am currently sitting on the couch mindlessly staring at the television screen. looking at the clock from time to time it was already 10pm and baekhyun was still at work.

sighing at the thought of the food i cooked on the table going cold. i sat there for awhile now. even stopped checking the time since i know he'll be coming home past 12am as usual.

it was 2:14am when i heard the front door's knob jiggled and in came baekhyun. he looked tired. he been looking tired for the past few weeks, i noticed but every time i try to ask all of his answers are "nothing important".

staying silent as i watched him take off his shoes and come in through the living room to go towards the bedroom. not noticing me until he saw the television screen and trailed his eyes to me.

"hey baby, what are you doing up?" he questions tiredly though doing his best to give you a smile.

"couldn't sleep" i replied to him as i watch his face give i a pout as he retreats to the bedroom.

"i'd stay up with you, but work is tiring me out. good night" he yawns.

i hear him taking a shower before getting ready for bed. i stay on the couch though. still not being able to find the sleep ineed despite how tired and drained i've been feeling.

feeling how distant we both have gone. barely any time for each other. whenever we sleep together there is a gap. no longer feeling the warmth i crave.

and worst of it all. he hasnt told me i love you since our last anniversary dinner. which was a month or so ago. this has been going on for a month and i am fed up.

doesnt seem long but when you experience it, it feels like a year.

i dont know how long it had been until i heard noises in the room and out came baekhyun. in his usual work attire.

baekhyun sees me still on the couch and questions, "why didnt you come to bed last night?" why didnt you ask me earlier?

"can't sleep" i vaguely reply. looking over at the clock it was 5am.

he nods in reply and put on his shoes. leaving for work. no good bye kiss. no i love you. not even a single affection of some sorts. thats when i had enough.

planning to visit his work later after i freshen up and ready myself for whatever storm i have to face when talking to him about this.

getting up from the couch i went over to the bedroom and took my time to freshen up.

after putting some food in my system for the day ahead i headed out. the drive to his office was nerve wrecking for some reason.

arriving at the building i walked in. passing by the receptionist you gave her a smile. she instantly stood up and bowed giving you a grin.

walking through the offices there were a bunch of workers around about, not forgetting to greet you though. when you made it to baekhyun's office floor things seems to be eerily quiet.

too quiet and it was almost scary. his door was down the hall. his door was slightly ajar. not knowing if he was in his office or not you take a peek.

he was indeed in his office, but he wasn't alone. he is sitting on top at the front of his desk. arms crossed with his eyebrows furrowed while talking to someone.

i was going to leave and just wait for him to finish conversing with whoever he is with until the person made it's appearance.

she was dangerously close to him to be talking to him about some offer of a deal. she got even closer by caging him in his arms by putting her arms on both sides of him on his desk. their faces inches apart from where their lips can touch.

i was shocked, hurt, angry, every emotion you can get. not knowing what to do or if i should barge in, but my grabbed my phone out of my purse and quickly dialed a number.

before things could get worse between the pair in the room a ringtone broke the tension. though the phone kept ringing the both of them made no signs to move.

baekhyun turned his head to look at the caller id that was calling him. he was staring intently at his phone but not reaching out to pick it up.

i watched him stare at his phone, praying for him to pick up. even when the ring stopped he didnt move a muscle.

the woman grabbed his chin and turned his face over to meet her face again. a sly smirk made its way across her lips. everything turned silent after i hung up the call. not believing he stood your call, but is it shocking since he's been ignoring my calls for a while now?

"so" the lady sultry says, "everything could be over if you accept my offer" she purrs.

confusion flashed across my face. what could be over? what offer? i was confused, so mad, and so hurt i really wanted to burst in and stop them.

i was going to burst in until he leaned in. not wanting to witness what happens after she leans in i left.

walked through the building with tears streaming down my face. not caring if the workers saw.

finally, even though it felt like years, i made it out the building. going over to my car and got in. quickly driving home, away from the building, away from him.

when i made it home i just threw my body on the bed. everything hurts. my heart was literally broken. i am sobbing into my pillow.

thinking about how the past few nights i slept without his embrace. went on with day for the month without his love or affection. and now i knew why.

turning over on the bed to stare up at the ceiling i rose my left hand. staring at the promise ring he gave me a few months ago during our anniversary. now everything just seem like a joke.

i would of spent even more hours wailing then getting ready to leave him until i heard the front door slam. quick steps were approaching and there he was.

"baby" he says breathlessly. as if he ran all the way over here from his workplace. i stared at him for a moment before turning my attention back to the ceiling. the tears threatening to fall again.

i sniffed and thats when i felt the right side of the bed dip. his face coming to view.

"why didnt you tell me you were coming to visit me at work?" he questions softly, staring at you.

"even if i called, you didnt answer" i whisper then stared at him. letting him see how broken you are. how broken he made you.

he was lost for words. so what his coworkers were telling him were right. you were there. then you left. with tears.

"baby, i can explain. what you saw at my work was not wh-" he tries to explain to me, but i cut him off.

"please leave, baekhyun. i don't want to see you right now" i try to stay as calmly as possible. though i was anything but calm.

"baby please let me explain-" he desperately tries again, but i sat up. almost bumping our heads, making him move back slightly. i reached for my left ring finger and as quickly as i can, take it off then threw it outside our bedroom door

i was heaving. now tears have fell and baekhyun looked over at the door where the sound of a ring dropping is made. he looked at my face. with a painful, regretful, and saddened expression.

i didnt dare look at him though as i stare straight ahead waiting for him to leave. when i heard him get up to grab the ring i ran over to our bedroom door and closed it. locking it too.

knocks and yells were made on the other side of the door. i can hear him calling for me, crying in the process of trying to let him in, but i dont.

i cover my ears trying to block his cries as i cried. falling asleep in that position with him as the last thing on my mind.

the sound of the alarm woke me up. i went over to it and slammed the snooze button. checking the time it was 10am. Baekhyun should be out at work now. I thought as i got up.

i opened the door heading out of the bedroom until i stumbled across a body by the door. i was on the floor from tripping over baekhyun. he seem to be stirring awake from my clumsiness and we made eye contact.

i quickly got up on my feet to go back in the room and close the door, but baekhyun quickly grabbed me and wrapped his arms around my body.

i was thrashing in his arms. trying to get him to let go of me since i dont want to be anywhere near him. nonetheless touch by an unfaithful partner.

"let me explain, please" he sounded so broken. his voice was hoarse, probably from crying. but it just made you even angrier.

he held me tighter as long as it takes for me to calm down. when a minutes have passed and i have finally gave up in trying to escape, i let him hug me.

baekhyun takes this chance to explain what happened. clearing his throat, "i dont know when you came in yesterday and what you saw, but i assure you nothing happened" he says carefully.

i was lifeless. basically, he was holding my entire form together before i completely break apart.

sensing my silence he held me a bit tighter burying his head in my hair as he gently pressed kisses around. continuing, "that lady... she is one of my new partners in work. we hired her a few weeks before this whole thing started".

"she tried seducing me, tried countless of ways to get closer to me, but being the smart and loyal man i am i never gave in and i even called her out on it" he pulls away from you to cup your face.

"but that pissed her off.. she- she started messing with my paper works, my deals and partnership, i couldn't do anything, baby." his voice broke as he tried explaining for you to understand.

"i didnt know what to do. i told her i would fire her if she kept this up, but because she is the daughter of one of my most loyal partner...... she told me she would ruin me by telling lies with proof of fake documents i dont even know where she is getting it from" he is sobbing now. though a ton of bricks have finally lifted off his chest he was still scared.

i was still silent. taking in everything he had said, but one question is lingering in my mind that i hope is false.

"you said you never gave in to her foul play, right?" your voice so small baekhyun had to stop breathing just to hear. "then how come i saw the both of you kiss" you looked up at him, tears forming in your eyes at the memory.

"no no baby, she leaned in, but i assure you our lips did not touch. i pushed her away right when she leaned in. i knew she was going to do that, but i was waiting for her to do it so that if she does yell for help i can say that she was trying something on me without my consent." he explains, a bit too quickly for my brain, but i understand. i nod to him, my eyes casting downwards.

"even after all these explanations, i dont understand why you havent been giving me the love and affection i've been yearning for" i sniffed. heart hurting from all the pain. i look down tears wetting his suit.

"i'm so sorry, baby. for that reason... i just... i just couldnt bring myself to touch you, make love to you, or even say the three words because of how dirty things feel. i know i told you i did nothing with her, but i still felt dirty. im so sorry, baby" he is crying. trying his best to speak as he wraps his arms around you again. holding you tight.

understanding now you oat his back to calm him down. though the pain in your heart ceased a bit, it was still there.

"im- im so so- sorry, baby. for a- all the th- things i've put you through" he was hiccuping. the thought of how lonely and sad you mustve felt because of his cold actions towards you.

"let me make it up to you , baby. please i promise to be better . i promise to treat you better not do that ever again. " he says brokenly. cupping your face again as he pecks all over your face, but your lips.

"please, let me make it up for you, please" he desperately says while searching for your eyes.

you think for a moment. about everything he says. all the drama that happened and see how much shit he's been going through. although he should of told you about it he made it worse for himself.

baekhyun took your silence as a bad sign when he leaned his forehead onto yours. closing his eyes as he whispered, "baby, please forgive your shit of a boyfriend and let him treat you right. please" he opens his eyes at the last word to stare at your brown orbs.

"this is your only chance" you say before he swoops in and kisses you on the lips. the both of us meet each other head on. my arms finally wrapping around him to pull him closer as his arms trailed everywhere around you.

he picked me up and carry me over to the bed and laid me down. that night we spent reuniting with one another.

-

next morning came and the alarm rang for 10am. you woke up startled, but just laid there trying to back to sleep. you hear rustling on the other side of the bed as baekhyun turned off the alarm and wrapped his arm around your waist again.

confused by his action you turned over, "not going to work?" you questioned. while staring at his cute face. he shakes his head.

"i'll take care of whatever i need to take care of at home......... and that means firing that woman" he says before he made himself comfortable by snuggling closer to you.

i was a bit worried because of what baekhyun said she can do to him if he fires her, "but what about the lies she will do?"

"i'll face whatever bump it takes me and because i know and you know that i am innocent, that is enough" he smiles though his eyes are still closed.

not wanting to disturb him any further i fully turn to him and get closer to him. wrapping my arm around his torso. giving him a quick peck on his lips before closing my eyes to drift off again.

—

authornote: hello xD! i just wrote this for the past few hours after remembering a oneshot i read on tumblr similar to this that is no longer posted. so i figured to just write something similar to keep myself from going crazy by not being able to read it again aha. sry for the mistakes you see, but i hope you enjoy reading!

- admin b

[qvestchen]

Nemesis // Soonwoo SVT

Summary: It was really laughable. The idea that Jeon Wonwoo had a nemesis. And yet there it was. The clear proof that all his life, like a nagging dull ache, Kwon Soonyoung had stepped all over his plans without ever really acknowledging him.

And maybe it was wrong for Wonwoo to seek him out but all he wanted was answers at first. He had never imagined they would stand opposite each other, fingers on triggers, his death in his nemesis’s hands and vice-versa.

Author: qvestchen

Status: Ongoing

Chapters: Home, Previous, Next.

Nemesis // Soonwoo SVT

Chapter 2:  But he is cursed

Soonyoung was laughing, totally immersed in a joke that his friend, Junhui, was narrating when Jihoon scoffed loudly.

“Have you two even signed up for your electives yet?”

Soonyoung and Jun stopped laughing and threw him a dark look.

“Jihoon, loosen up when you’re at the drama club,” Soonyoung said, whining slightly. “We still have till tomorrow to decide.”

Jun nodded. “A decision made at the last minute is the best.”

Seungcheol who was lazily watching the three of them while going over Jihoon’s new music with Joshua grinned at Joshua and Jihoon. “Should I break it to them?”

Jihoon smiled. “Let me do the honours this time.” He straightened up from his position on the floor and cleared his throat. “Today’s the last date for applying for electives. Good luck getting any because I’m pretty sure all of the courses are filled up by now. The good ones, anyway.”

Soonyoung frowned, still disbelieving, reaching for his phone to check the date. “You’ve probably mixed up your da—oh shit, Jun, we got to rush. It’s today!”

The two of them scrambled up quickly jumping down from the cool stage, looking for their bags.

“Joshua, what happens if two fools don’t choose their electives?” Seungcheol asked, laughing fondly at his friends.

Joshua pretended to think. “Apart from the immediate embarrassment? I would say, failing the semester, seeing everyone else pass and ooh, or worse, expulsion?”

They laughed as Jun flipped them off.

Jihoon got up too. “I’m going to the studio—”

“You mean your dorm room,” Seungcheol corrected.

“What’s in a name?” Jihoon said, gathering his things. “Got to go, folks. Inspiration calls. Wait up, you two. I’m coming up.”

“I’m planning to go to the cafeteria too,” Joshua said. “I’ll grab a sandwich and finish my essay.”

Soonyoung, who was waiting for Jun at the door, said. “I don’t understand how you like the cafeteria food so much. Especially when now we have Jeonghan’s cooking to sample.”

Joshua visibly stiffened. “I’ll see you later.” He left without looking at Soonyoung.

“What’s up with him?” Soonyoung asked Seungcheol as they locked the drama club.

“He doesn’t like the new club member.”

“Jeonghan? He has barely known him for a couple of days. How serious can it be?” He said, looking at Joshua’s retreating figure.

Seungcheol shrugged. “I have no idea. He’s usually very welcoming to the new members.”

Jihoon said, “He’s probably just worried about his essay. He’s been writing it in the cafeteria since the start of semester.”

Jun cut across. “You’re all wrong. It’s the sexual tension.”

“O-kay, that’s our cue to leave,” Soonyoung said, dragging Jun to the Language and Literature block.

There was a huge line of students at the Chinese department so Jun suggested that Soonyoung should go ahead. “Unless you want to take the class with me which would be amazing, to be honest.”

“You’re Chinese. You’re going to ace it but it’s a bit too heavy an elective for me. Intro to Persian is famous for being a light elective. Let me just rush and sign up for it and come back for you.”

Soonyoung walked outside the department room and was immediately hit by the sound of students loudly discussing plans but the noise died out as he left the English and Chinese language departments behind and climbed upstairs to the quiet, dusty corridor which housed the small, air-conditioned room that worked as the reception of the Persian department. He knocked at the glass door and waited before poking his head inside. “May I come in?”

The man at the small reception desk looked up from the computer screen with intense dislike at having been disturbed from his solitary afternoon ruminations. “Since you’re here, you might as well.”

Soonyoung walked inside quietly, smiling a bit awkwardly. “I could come back later if you’re busy.”

Truth be told, the great ‘angel’ of the drama club who was famous for being loud, boisterous and confident, the friendly Soonyoung was, outside his drama club and otherwise small group of friends, a shy, polite person especially in front of people he didn’t know. Right now, he was a stark contrast to his popular image (Jihoon often joked “it is the Gemini in him”) but the fact was that he was all of this together, a complex person, a bit forgetful at times but an easily endearing person, the kind who made people feel at ease.

The man at the desk seemed to consider his words. “How can I help you today?”

Soonyoung smiled warmly. “I came to sign up for the ‘Introduction to Persian Language and Culture’ course. Wait I have my ID copy and registration form somewhere here.” He rummaged in his backpack, apologetically. “Ah, here it is.”

He was handed a sheet. “You’re lucky. We just had one spot left. Fill in your details, name, course, email and so on and sign here.”

“Oh wow,” Soonyoung said, writing down his name, “I am so grate—” His phone rang, a hip-hop number filling the small room. His eyes widened and he apologized, looking at his phone. It was Joshua probably calling to tell him that the cafeteria had some semi-edible delicacy. He silenced his phone, filling in the details and signing with a flourish, before picking up the phone. He nodded to receptionist. “Thank you for everything. I’m looking forward to the classes.” He winced as he heard Joshua nearly screaming out of his phone. “Hello, Joshua. You sound excited. What’s up? Yes, I just finished signing up for the Persian elective. No, no, I don’t want to change. I would love to study English but I would probably fail, see everyone else pass and ooh, or worse, get expelled?” He laughed his characteristic loud, happy laugh, swinging outside the door, not even realising that someone was standing right outside. If he had realized that he had nearly crashed the door into a very annoyed student he would have no doubt stopped and apologized profusely but as it was, he was totally immersed in the call with a frantic Joshua who, unsuccessfully, wanted him to change his elective for some inexplicable reason.

After Joshua mysteriously said a sudden goodbye, Soonyoung reunited with Jun in the Chinese department who was still standing in the queue. “You won’t believe it but I made it just in time.”

Jun said, “I hope I get lucky too. There’s so many people that I’m worried the course will get filled by the time my chance comes.”

As they waited, Soonyoung wondered aloud about Joshua’s strange call and recent behaviour in general. “I hope he’s okay.”

Jun assumed a saint-like expression. “I’m telling you it’s Jeonghan. I think Joshua is experiencing a crush for the first time ever.”

Joshua was, in fact, experiencing something totally different. After having reached the cafeteria and spotting Seokmin and Hansol, he had placed himself within earshot at a table nearby, pretending to work on his essay. He hadn’t expected to hear much but instead he got to know that Wonwoo had decided to take Persian.

He had been unable to stop himself from exclaiming in pure shock. “What!?” No, no, that could not happen. He could not allow that to happen. Soonyoung and Wonwoo could not be allowed to cross paths. As if on cue, the bracelet around his wrist heated up, the runes no doubt signalling impending disaster. He gathered his things into his backpack and between rushing to get up and calling Soonyoung simultaneously, he tripped and fell.

The loud exclamation and following fall alerted Seokmin and Hansol to him and Seokmin even began to reiterate the information but he was already rushing out of the cafeteria, nearly shouting in his phone.

He was crossing the threshold of the cafeteria when something in the corner of his vision seemed to slow down time.

A flash of blonde hair.

Yoon Jeonghan.

Maybe time did slow down because it must have been fraction of a second but Joshua could feel his heart drop as Jeonghan returned his gaze, a taunting smile foretelling his failure to stop things from happening. Still smiling, Jeonghan tilted his head in a greeting and then, time sped up again and turning back, Soonyoung’s voice sounding through his phone, Joshua’s heart dropped as he noticed Jeonghan walking to Seokmin and Hansol’s table.

He had been right. The Warlock was here to stay.

The scene vanished as he tumbled suddenly into a quiet classroom instead of walking out of the cafeteria. “Uh, Soonyoung,” he continued to speak in his phone, “please, don’t take the elective. How about you take English with me? Or, I don’t know, Geography, I’ve heard they still have seats.” But Soonyoung had already cut the line.

He jiggled his bracelet which was warning him of unauthorised magic use but at the same time burning with an urgency that he knew well to read. Soonyoung and Wonwoo were going to cross paths and here, his teleportation magic was shortcircuiting as usual. He groaned aloud. “I’m doing it for them. I’m not using magic for myself.”

He let out a breath, trying to calm himself down. Okay, one more try. He walked to the classroom door and turned the handle, closing his eyes as he walked out.

The air shifted around him and suddenly, he could smell old paper and musty air-conditioning. He sighed in relief on opening his eyes and found himself in the Persian department.

The man at the desk made an irritated noise at seeing him. “The course is closed.”

Joshua walked up to him with a small smile. “You are sleeping right now. I am a figment of your imagination. How about you move on to another dream?” He clenched his fist as his bracelet shuddered with the magic use. He wondered if it would work. Even if it did, it would only work for mere seconds. His magic was limited by the bracelet, taking a physical toll on him to work. Suddenly, a thought of Jeonghan crossed his mind. That one did not have a bracelet. He must be immensely powerful. Immediately, he shook his head. But he is cursed.

His magic seemed to be working for the receptionist eyes glazed slightly, eyelids drooping and his head lolled to the side as slight snores filled the air.

Joshua got to work. He crossed off Soonyoung’s name and details from the list, not even needing to check the list above the last name. Opening the folder beside it, he took out Soonyoung’s ID copy and registration form, stuffing them in his pocket. It took him less than five seconds and the receptionist had already begun to show signs of waking up. He walked to the door, turning one last time to mumble an apology and then, he was walking out.

The air shifted and he was wrinkling his nose, knowing already that his teleportation had messed up again. He was in the washroom beside the cafeteria. Not as offtrack as it could have been though, he reasoned, checking the runes on his bracelet. It was cool again, no warning signs. Disaster had been averted. Soonyoung and Wonwoo had been steered clear of each other.

He noticed that his hands were shaking and pursed his lips before walking out of the cubicle. He caught his reflection in the mirror. His face was ashen. The magic always took a toll, even if he used it for the right purposes. He washed his face and patted it dry with a tissue before walking out confidently.

If anyone had seen him walk out, they wouldn’t have thought him any different from any other student. That gave him comfort and he had even begun to smile a bit, feeling happy with his quick thinking when he walked into the cafeteria. His smile dropped as he found himself under the attention of everyone at the table he had earlier been eavesdropping on. He felt like he was suffocating as he saw Jeonghan sitting alongside Wonwoo.

He knew already that his efforts today were only temporary. Now that Soonyoung and Wonwoo’s lives had a thin common factor—Jeonghan. The warlock seemed to sense his thoughts and raised an eyebrow in challenge.

Jisoo, won’t you come meet my new friends?

His eyes bulged as he recognized the smooth, taunting voice in his head. Jeonghan knew his name. How did he know it? What else did he know?

Get out of my head, Jeonghan. He turned around and walked out of the place, finding himself inadvertently walking into the Chinese department where Soonyoung and Jun were still waiting for Jun’s turn at the registration.

“Joshua? What are you doing here?” Soonyoung asked, brightly.

He looks so happy, he thought, he doesn’t know what I’ve done. He wanted to say sorry for denying his friend his chosen elective. Maybe he could sign him up here. He opened his mouth to suggest it in some subtle way but no sound came out.

Jun clapped. “You’re joining this elective too? What made you change your mind?”

Joshua wanted to say something but his mouth had gone dry and even as he walked to his friends, his body was leaden. He could see their expression drop right before the world spotted and darkened.

The last thing he heard was Jun screaming.

It was, in fact, Soonyoung screaming. Together the two of them managed to haul him to the medic’s room in the building while a teacher rang up the campus hospital.

“Is he okay?” Soonyoung asked the nurse, his face stained with tears, after they had settled Joshua down a bit. It had only been minutes but Jun and him had panicked and called everyone. They were all on the way, including Jeonghan who had called Soonyoung and caught him crying.

The nurse smiled warmly at the two of them. “It’s exhaustion and probably stress but he’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?” he asked again. He looked at his friend who was now on the hospital bed. He looked tired, slight dark circles beneath his eyes and pale, blotchy skin.

“Maybe we should call his parents?” Jun said, worriedly.

They looked at each other, suddenly realizing they had no idea how to contact Joshua’s parents.

Soonyoung picked up Joshua’s jacket. “It will be on his phone.” He unlocked the phone easily, priding himself at knowing the passcode, but frowned when he looked at the contacts. He just had four numbers saved. Soonyoung, Seungcheol, Jihoon and Junhui.

Jun who was beside him looked surprised too.

“Well?” the nurse asked.

Soonyoung kept the phone back. “You could say we are his family. I’ll stay with him here tonight.”

“Okay, how about you get these medicines from the prescription here and get him and yourself a change of clothes and toiletries?” the nurse said.

Soonyoung was reluctant to leave but Jun nodded.

“Go. I won’t leave. Don’t worry.”

And so he was walking out of the hospital when someone’s heavy backpack knocked into his chest. He lost balance and grabbed at air, eyes widening as he realized that he was heading straight for the open window.

A hand caught his t-shirt and pulled him back.

“Watch where you’re going, will you?” Seungcheol said, steadying him. “If you fell from here, you would probably die.” He pulled shut the window pane, securing it firmly, after glaring in the direction of the person who had collided with Soonyoung. “I’m going to complain to the admin about these windows here.”

“It’s okay,” Soonyoung said, rubbing his chest. “I wasn’t seeing where I was going. You go ahead. I’ll just get these medicines and—”

“Jihoon is getting nightwear and other stuff so don’t worry. Should I get the medicines?” Seungcheol asked.

“Thank God for Jihoon. I’ll get the medicines though. You go ahead.”

When Soonyoung returned, he found his friends waiting outside the room. “What happened?”

“He’s sleeping right now so that’s fine,” Jun said.

Jihoon looked furious. “The nurse kicked us out because we were crowding the place.”

“We aren’t even that many,” Soonyoung said.

“Jeonghan dropped in with a friend. Remember the idiot who nearly killed you near the window here. That’s his friend, Jeon Wonwoo. I nearly told him off. Anyway, I politely thanked them but knowing Joshua wouldn’t be happy to see Jeonghan when he woke up, I somehow managed to get rid of them for now.”

The packet of medicines slipped from Soonyoung’s fingers.

Jeon Wonwoo?

“D-Did you say Jeon Wonwoo?” No, what he wanted to ask was, he is real?

He felt sick. The name was echoing in his head like a ghost haunting his veins. Wonwoo. Wonwoo. Wonwoo. The spectre which followed him only to disappear. Soonyoung had thought he had got over him. He had spent a good part of his high school life chasing after this name. Only to find nothing. He had sworn himself to let go, to forget, convinced himself that there was no such person, that everything that happened, every little incident, every whisper, was nothing, had told himself to stop looking for that glint of spectacles, that soft head of dark hair, that once-heard deep voice, because they were all red herrings.

“Yes, do you know him? He was kind of weird. I mean, he said he saw Joshua at the cafeteria when he was with you guys.”

And yet there it was. The name and the person.

He dialled Jeonghan’s number hurriedly. “Hey, is—is someone…this is going to sound weird but do you know…do you have a friend named Wonwoo?”

hello, hope you enjoyed the new chapter!

lots of things happened, we got to see a bit more about soonwoo's relationship of sorts, more about joshua (and his powers and limits) and jeonghan, and we met soonyoung's friends! what did you think of the chapter? are you ready for soonwoo to meet next chapter?

side note: "Introduction to Persian Language and Culture" is an elective course i took in uni. this is a little bit of a background story for this fic but in our uni this course was immensely popular among the students because it was supposed to be easy to score marks in. and it turned out to be true lol because of the structure of the course (rather than the content or anything else) and the fact that we only did basic language in the course. i actually enjoyed the course and loved learning the language and about the culture. persian is a beautiful language. unfortunately, my classmates and i, did not, even after a year of the course, become fluent. idk i thought this would explain this bit of the fic and some of the references that i'm using. most of the uni scenes in this fic are going to be typical uni student lives but with seventeen.

thank you for supporting <3 love, positive vibes and great friendships!

[arthurtristankingsmen]

Murderhorse Meddling

{{Just something silly for your birthday, love. Vivi does not do as told, just so you know.}}

“He’s up to something,” Vivi fumed, shredding her napkin into smaller and smaller pieces and glaring daggers at the tall figure standing at the server’s stand of the outdoor cafe.

“Vivi—” Under the table, Mystery put his paws over his muzzle and did his best to inject a soothing tone into his voice, in spite of his frustration. “Since when has he done anything wrong?”

Vivi’s hands slapped down on the table. “You know what he did! He tried to ki—”

“Recently,” Mystery interrupted, a little desperately. “Since then, he has done nothing wrong.”

“I don’t know that!” Vivi seethed, lifting the tablecloth to glare into his eyes. “He could have done any number of things when we can’t keep our eyes on him.”

Mystery resisted the urge to sigh heavily. “Vivi, we would have heard about any disappearances. And, not to put too fine a point on it, no livers have washed up on the shore recently.”

“So he’s hiding them, or eating them too!”

“Vivi, he is not doing that. He has admitted that due to the high iron content of liver, he cannot digest it. It’s not quite poisonous, but it does him no favors.”

“Good,” Vivi dropped the tablecloth and returned her attention to the man who was even now accepting a receipt from the server. “Remind me to make him some Foie gras pasties.”

Just then, Calder turned around and fixed her with an unreadable look before striding off, his back stiff.

“See!?” Vivi crowed. “Proof he’s up to no good!”

“I’m relatively certain he could feel you glaring at him,” Mystery opined cautiously. He was well within kicking distance if she took exception to his words.

“Not even just that.” A voice whispered from thin air. After a moment, Lewis faded back into visibility behind a screen of bushes, stepping back to take a seat across from Vivi and put on the sunglasses waiting for him on the table. “He said to remind you that he can sense me, even when I’m invisible. And he’ll thank us not to spy on him.” His last words took on a hint of Calder’s distinctive Scottish brogue.

Vivi growled low in her throat. “What was he doing?”

“Nothing illicit that I could see,” Lewis assured her. “It looked like he was buying a gift certificate.”

“Vivi—” Mystery tried again.

“He had to be up to something.” Vivi turned to glare in the direction the target of her ire had gone. “Maybe he conned that poor server into giving him a certificate for… like leaves under an illusion to look like real money. Some of my books say faeries are prone to do that!”

“No,” Mystery stuck his head out from under the table. “I would have sensed that.”

Vivi’s irritated gaze snapped back to him. “You couldn’t even sense anything from him when you were sitting under the same table he was at!”

“Not his personal magics, no. In his human form those are well hidden. But illusion magic I can sense, easily. He was using none. He has not broken his word or his sworn trust.”

“What trust?” Vivi asked suspiciously, reaching down to snag his collar. “He didn’t give us any trust, He just said he wouldn’t try to steal Arthur again. When did he give you his word?”

Mystery’s eyes skated sideways. “It doesn’t matter. Suffice to say, he swore to do no harm to any of us.”

“Talk!” Vivi commanded, giving his collar a little shake.

“Woof.” Mystery said dryly.

“Mystery!”

“Vivi,” Lewis attempted to soothe her. “That doesn’t really matter. It just means he wasn’t up to no good, this time.”

Vivi was in no mood to be soothed. “This time! That doesn’t mean he’s not planning anything. I don’t trust him any farther than I can throw him.”

Mystery shook off her grip on his collar. “Considering your chances of lifting him to throw him are between zilch and none, that’s hardly sensible.”

“Don’t you give me any of your lip, butt-sniffer!”

“Really, Vivi? Name-calling?” Mystery stuck his nose up in the air. “I am insulted.” “You’re gonna be assaulted if you don’t start talking!”

Lewis put a hand on her arm. “Inside voice, love.”

Vivi scowled at him, but lowered her voice. “We’re not inside,” she pointed out, waving to the open-air cafe.

“Point,” Lewis conceded, chuckling. “But you were getting way too loud.”

Vivi puffed up her cheeks in a pout but didn’t try to contradict him. “I don’t trust him. He’s a sneaky, slimy— evil— murderhorse!”

“He’s been behaving himself lately,” Lewis reminded her gently. “Why are you so sure he’s up to something?”

“When has he not been up to something?” Vivi stared at her drink, running a finger around the rim of the glass.

“You need to let go of that grudge, Vivi, before you strangle yourself with it.” Mystery stretched out in the shade of the table. “You know well enough that no good comes of keeping anger in your heart.” His pointed glance darted to Lewis, who ducked his head.

Sticking her tongue out, Vivi blew a raspberry in Mystery’s direction. “I don’t want to. It is my indelible right to hate his giant horse butt.”

“Vivi—” Mystery’s tone was exasperated. “He has been true to his word. He has even been helpful, of late. I borrowed the book that helped you deal with the fuath from him.”

“What?” Vivi’s eyes narrowed.”I wondered where that book had come from. And where it had vanished to.”

“We returned it to its rightful owner,” Lewis put in.

“Proof that he was being helpful.” Mystery added, stretching his paws out.

Vivi made a dismissive noise. “He probably just didn’t want it anywhere near his territory.”

Yipping annoyance, Mystery fixed her with a flat stare. “It was all the way over the border into Louisiana. Calder only claimed the lake and its environs here.”

“He probably th—”

Lewis’s palm over her mouth stopped her. “Vivi, I think Mystery is right this time. He hasn’t done anything wrong. You’re letting your temper get the better— Did you just lick my hand?” Lewis’s tone was a blend of horror and amusement.

Vivi fixed him with a smug look. “And I’ll do it again if you try to shoosh me like that again.”

Lewis wiped his hand on a napkin. “Very mature, Vi.”

Snorting, she leaned back in her chair. “I never claimed to be mature.”

“While this is all very entertaining, can we draw the conclusion that he is not up to something this time?” Mystery yawned deliberately.

Vivi snorted at him, but subsided. “I just don’t trust him.”

“I believe we are well aware of that,” Mystery shook his head and sneezed.

~~~

Vivi sailed into Kingsmen Mechanics, arms full of takeout boxes from Pepper Paradiso. “Artie, I come bearing food. You better come get some before I—” Her voice trailed off when she realized Lance was the only one there, standing in front of the counter with a wary look on his face and a wrench held defensively in his hands.

“Uncle Lance—?” She paused, setting the takeout on the counter. “What’s going on? Where’s Arthur?”

Lance tilted his head toward the rear of the shop, his expression, going from wary to bemused. “He’s out back in the junkyard. I sent him out there to sort scrap when I got the damnedest phone call. I didn’t even know that horse-faced creep had a phone.”

Wary now, Vivi glanced back over her shoulder. She knew exactly who Lance was talking about. “Neither did I. Why did he call you? I thought you told him in no uncertain terms he wasn’t allowed to come here.”

Lance huffed. “Right enough, I did. Made damned sure he knows where he stands with me. Preferably as far away from Arthur as possible an’ still be on the same planet.”

“What did he want?” Vivi demanded, darting to the back door to peer out into the junkyard. Her relief at seeing Arthur peacefully sorting through piles of scrap, his head bobbing in time to the music on his headphones, was palpable, filling her chest.

“That’s the funny thing,” Lance responded, setting his wrench down. “Asked me, all polite like, to make sure that Arthur had this Friday off.”

“What?” Vivi knew her voice scaled into painful ranges when Lance winced away. “What the hell?”

Lance jiggled a pinky finger in his ear before shaking his head. “Damned if I know. Thought maybe you did.”

Fuming, Vivi pulled out her phone and dialed Lewis’s number with a violent stab of her finger. “No. But you can bet I’m gonna find out!” As soon as Lewis’s voice answered, she barked, “Lewis, Kingsmen’s now for a strategy meeting. I told you that sneaky bastard was up to something!” She hung up before Lewis had a chance to make more than a startled interrogative noise.

“I knew it!” she seethed, pacing. “I knew he was up to something when I saw him the other day! I just knew it!”

“What’s he up to then, girlie, an’ how many ways do I have to beat him black an’ blue?” Lance’s face was set in a thunderous scowl.

“I don’t know, and all of them,” Vivi retorted. “You— none of us— are letting Arthur out of our sight Friday.”

A burst of purple fire heralded Lewis’s arrival. His human facade had faded into bone and swirling flame. “What is it? What’s going on? Is Arthur alright?”

An oily rag sailed past his head. “Cool yer damned jets before you set the whole place on fire, boy!” Lance barked. “My insurance ain’t gonna cover overwrought ghost inferno. An’ put your face back on before you scare off a customer.”

Vivi hurried over to Lewis and gripped his arm. “Nothing has happened to Arthur yet, Lew. But I told you that horse’s patootie was up to something!”

Lewis paused, his human features replacing the skeletal visage. “What? What’s going on?”

VIvi filled him in quickly.

Lewis held up a hand after a moment, before she could launch into more detail, and, to be honest, probably more accusations. “Wait. So he what? Start at the beginning and go slowly.”

Vivi opened her mouth, but Lewis laid a gentle finger across her lips. “Mr. Kingsmen first, please, love.” Vivi huffed and debated licking his finger, but subsided after a moment.

“I’d sent Art out to sort scrap for his latest project since it’s a slow day,” Lance waved at the empty stalls of the garage in illustration. “The phone rang an’ I answered it. It was that Calder fella, recognized his accent right off. I started to hang up on him when he said ‘I know you don’t care for me, but I have a favor to ask.’ I asked him ‘what favor?’ and he, all polite, goes— ‘Could you see your way to givin’ Arthur this Friday off?’ ”

“Did he say why?” Lewis asked.

“Nah. I asked, an’ all he said was he thought Arthur might enjoy a long weekend.” Lance scowled accusingly at the phone on his desk. “Then he thanked me, still polite, mind ya, an’ hung up.”

“That’s all?”

“Everything.” Lance nodded stoutly.

Lewis turned his attention to Vivi, who looked ready to explode. “So he wanted Arthur to have a long weekend and this is an emergency how?”

“Don’t you see? He has to be planning something for this Friday!” Vivi jittered in place. “If we take our eyes off Arthur, who knows what he’ll do? He might even try kidnapping him again!”

“I think you are letting your paranoia get the better of you.” Mystery had eeled in the open door and hopped up on a stool to address them. “Also, Vivi, think before you send Lewis off in that state, I could sense him all the way back at the apartment. So could anything with supernatural senses. Eau de’ hysterical spectre leaves a lovely trail in the aether.”

Lewis ducked his head a little.

“I am not paranoid!” Vivi rounded on Mystery, fists on hips and cheeks red. “He’s a fae. They never do something without an ulterior motive! And he’s less trustworthy than most of them!”

“You are letting your anger color things,” Mystery responded serenely. “Yes, He did some terrible things in the beginning. We all made mistakes then. All of us, including Calder. And since, he has kept every promise he has made to us. He does not hunt humans, he has kept his distance from Arthur and indeed, all of us, and he has willingly lent us his knowledge, be it books or simply things he knows better than mortals.”

“He what now?” Vivi simmered, glaring at Mystery. “Are you talking about that book?”

Mystery chuffed softly and met her gaze calmly. “That and some few other times Lewis or I have asked for his aid. And to be honest would you have accepted knowing where the information came from?” he laughed. “I think not. More likely you would have thrown it back in his face, if we had told you the source, even if it was knowledge we desperately needed.”

Sighing, Lewis nodded. “Vi, I don’t care for him either, and believe me, I haven’t forgotten what happened, but—” he chuckled wryly. “I’ve moved on.”

Vivi flinched, her glare softening. “Let me guess, if you can get past it, I should be able to, too?”

Drifting forward, Lewis cupped her cheek. “You wouldn’t be you, if you gave up on anything, but you also know when to let logic trump emotion. Tell me, are you being reasonable about this? Given the evidence, are you letting your anger rule or are you going to look at it logically?”

Vivi gritted her teeth. “I don’t like or trust him.” She heaved a sigh. “But you say he’s been keeping his word, and you, I trust.”

Lewis pulled her into a hug.

“How about explaining it to the peanut gallery,” Lance grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. “I ain’t inclined to trust him either, Blue, not after what you two and him told me went down.”

Lewis released Vivi and stepped back, his hair flaring a little. “It’s not that we trust him, Mr. Kingsmen—” he began.

“As Vivi told you before, Calder is a fae creature. That means that he is bound by his word. A fae might try to twist the wording of a bargain to their advantage, but their word, once given, is inviolate. They cannot break it. Calder swore on his honor and on the names of the eldest fae, commonly called gods and goddesses, that he would not try to steal Arthur away again.” Mystery finished for him.

Lance stared the dog down for a long moment, but Mystery did not flinch. Finally he sighed heavily. “So what’s he after, wanting Arthur to have the day off?”

“That, I do not know. But I do not think it is done with any ill-intention.”

Vivi and Lance managed a disgruntled sigh in complete unison.

“So what? I just give the boy the day off an’ hope nothin’ happens?” Lance’s displeased look could have curdled cream.

“I think that would be for the best.” Mystery prodded, glancing at Vivi.

She heaved another sigh. “I hope you two are right about this.”

~~~~

Friday dawned bright and sunny, just cool enough to be comfortable, but not chilly. Vivi was decidedly reluctant to let Arthur get out of bed, snuggling close to his chest and grumping. “Uncle Lance gave you the day off, right? I vote for staying right here in bed.”

Arthur chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “While it sounds good to me, Lewis is already up and any minute—”

“Up and attem, slugabeds,” Lewis’s voice called. “Breakfast is ready.”

“Told ya.” Arthur chortled.

Vivi groaned but dragged herself out of bed, the call of Lewis’s cooking too tempting to linger.

In pajamas, they trooped to the kitchen, where Lewis was dishing out wonderful smelling omelets onto plates. The table was already set, with orange juice in glasses and Vivi’s over-sized coffee mug already filled to the brim. In the center of the small table was a vase filled with flowers, and Vivi couldn’t help a suspicious glare at them. Water hyacinth, water lilies, and lotus blossoms filled the vase. It was more than easy enough to guess where they had come from. Even Arthur paused to look at them oddly.

Lewis set the plates down, including one at his own seat, and grinned. “Bon Appetit!”

“Uh, Big guy?” Arthur stared at the third plate, confusion in his heterochromatic eyes.

Mystery chuckled from his place on the floor, with his own plate of omelet. “I think it’s time to come clean, Lewis.”

Lewis snorted and fixed Mystery with a mock glare. “You couldn’t let me enjoy the looks of confusion for a little longer?”

“No.”

Vivi fixed Lewis with a glare. “Are you really Lewis?”

Lewis laughed, hair throwing off little sparks of pink. “I am, I promise.”

She got up and grabbed the front of his shirt. “Then I would like some answers to what the hell is going on now, please!”

Lewis smiled and detached her hands from his collar. “Calder was up to something, just not in the way you thought, love.” He pulled a tiny charm from under his shirt. “This is part of it. This lets me eat and drink… and taste the food… like normal. It only lasts for a day before it has to be recharged, but he gave Mystery the spell to do so.”

“And before you ask, I made very sure there is nothing else to the spell. It does exactly as advertised. It merely allows Lewis to enjoy food like he used to.”

Arthur gaped at Lewis. “Really? That’s awesome!”

“I think I’ll let him explain the rest.” Lewis said with a grin.

“What!?” Vivi bolted upright, glancing in alarm at the paper wards that were above every door and at every window of the apartment. They were undisturbed.

“Calm down,” Mystery looked up with a canine grin.

Lewis set a pearl on the table. It shimmered in the overhead light and glowed with its own soft radiance. An image formed in the air above it; Calder, from the shoulders up, one eyebrow quirked and a wry half smile on his lips. He shoved a hand through his tumbled bangs. “Ah, an’ here I was thinkin’ you’d sleep the day away. Mornin’.”

“Calder!” Arthur exclaimed, voice bright with surprise.

Vivi moved to lean over Arthur’s shoulder and stared at Calder’s image. “What are you up to?” For once the hostility in her voice had mellowed.

“Why, bein’ more trouble than I’m worth, I’m sure. Can I nae do somethin’ for the birthday o’ one o’ me friends?” Calder chuckled dryly. “It happens I thought I might do somethin’ nice for the lad, as much as against my nature as it might be t’ be nice.”

“Calder!” Arthur scolded.

“Ah, dinna mind me. Now that I got that frightenin’ old man o’ yours t’ give y’ the day off, I bethought y’ might wanna spend it enjoyin’ the company o’ those you love best.”

“Ah?” Arthur’s face was a study in confusion.

Puffing his cheeks out, Calder exhaled a gusty sigh. “I mean for y’ three t’ go out an’ about doin’ whatever romantical-date-type things people do when they’re datin’. Go out t’ eat, watch a film, go on a walk, chase ghosts… or is that last one only you lot?”

“Hey!” Vivi stuck her tongue out at Calder’s image.

“My point bein’, go out an’ have a nice time for Arthur’s birthday. Take him places, treat him t’ nice food an’ nice things.” Calder retorted, exasperated. “The lad deserves a nice day out, an’ by dint, I suppose y’ do too.”

Arthur was blushing, his face and ears gone bright pink. “C-Calder, that’s not necessary. None of you have to do anything for my birthday. Not you and not them. You don’t need to go through that kind of trouble for me!”

“Hey now—!” Lewis began.

Vivi’s attention snapped to Arthur. “You shoosh that talk, bucko. You’re our boyfreind and if we want to spoil you on your birthday, we can. I was gonna have a small party for you tomorrow, but this will do just fine, even—” She cut herself off.

“A sneaky slimy connivin’ murderhorse planned it,” Calder finished, green eyes sparkling with amusement. “Though I’d be thankin’ you t’ remember I’m nae a horse.”

“He just plays one on TV,” Mystery chuckled.

“An’ sure’n that’s enough outta you, mutt.”

Lewis held up a hand. “Seriously, Artie, we’re not obliged to do it, we want to. It’s no kind of trouble at all.”

“Lissen t’ your spectral lover, lad. There ‘tis no obligation in wantin’ t’ treat y’ with love and the good things y’ deserve.” Calder said solemnly. “That’s why I went about doin’ this, because it’s somethin’ you deserve, even when y’ think y’ don’t.”

Lewis reached over to cover one of Arthur’s hands with his own. “Let us… all of us, do nice things for you today.”

“Right enough,” Calder broke in before the moment could get too maudlin. “Now, I got you a certificate t’ that cafe y’ like so, the one where the mutt ‘tis welcome. I dinna know where you’d like t’ go after that, but just… have yourself a good time for your birthday.”

Vivi slipped her arms around Arthur’s neck and squeezed. “It’s gonna be the most awesome birthday ever, even if Calder had a hoof in it.” Maybe she could even cut him a little slack, not that she’d ever tell the stupid horse.

[hellagaymccree]

Exposed Treasure, pt. 1

I’m in some mcgenyes mood and got this idea recently. It’s a fun project that I hope to release in 3-4 parts. Includes bottom Gabe, who loves to be recorded, and Genji steals the commander’s phone one day to go through it with Jesse. Slowly the agents realize it’s getting too easy to steal the phone again. Some videos/pictures include friends with benefits reaper//76. And hints of friends with benefits mc//genji. Might turn into McCree/Reyes/Genji/Jack at the end who knows they all want Gabe to get everything he wants like he deserves

[more fics by me] [buy me a ko-fi]

----

Jesse comes into his room from a shower, after an intense training with some agents to get ready for their next mission. His sweat pants hang low on his hips, exposing the trail of dark hairs that travels down to his groin. And a towel rests over his shoulders, catching the drops that fall from his hair.

The door of his room hisses open a few seconds after his arrival and Genji walks in with a folder in his flesh hand. McCree had been called to Reyes’ office to pick up their next assignment, but was too busy washing off the sweat on his body to go. Genji took his place instead.

“That the new mission? “ The cowboy asks, cleaning his right ear with one corner of the towel.

“Yes,” the cyborg digs into the folder for something and then dismisses the rest of it onto his bed. Jesse raises an eyebrow and cocks his head at the device on Genji’s hand. “Slipped it into the folder when Reyes wasn’t looking, before he escorted me out of his office due to a last minute conference video call in Morrison's office.” The ninja waves the slick phone around. “Shall we see what our commander hides?”

Jesse chuckles as he steps closer, “Probably boring messages and emails from important people. And love letters to Morrison.”

“Or love pictures,” Genji guesses with a curios and devious look in his red eyes.

“Don't mind if we find out,” Jesse smirks.

The duo sits down on Genji’s bed, across from Jesse's. Neither are surprise when they find the phone locked, it goes around that Commander Reyes changes his password monthly. They only have a few tries before the phone stays lock for thirty minutes, but they manage to figure it out. It ends up being Fareeha’s age and what she'll be turning on her birthday which is a couple of weeks away, 1920. Jesse finds it too sweet and can't help smiling when he remembers all the moments he has caught his commander having with the girl that could be mistaken for his niece because how close they are.

They first go through the contacts and discover their phone numbers are under the names “Pendejo” and “Dumbass”. Genji smirks after a few seconds of staring at the screen before he types something on it. He changes Jesse's to “Mi sol” and Genji’s to “Senpai.” Jesse scoffs over his shoulder and they continue browsing to their next target: the photo gallery.

They pass over the professional folder, with pictures taken during missions as evidence or other reasons. Then there are pictures of files he probably keeps so he doesn't have to copy the text into digital. There's a folder they quickly go over that’s full personal pictures like older ones from the SEP days with Jack, and other faces neither of the Blackwatch agents can’t recall and probably aren’t around anymore. Then there's Ana and Fareeha, also a few with Rein and Torb, and even with Jesse and Genji. A nostalgic warmth spreads over Jesse when his own face starts showing up more and more. Some of the pictures were taken by himself with his phone and then sent to Gabe. He just thought the commander ignored or deleted them since most were caught off guard or Gabriel captured in a scowl while Jesse did some kind of gesture behind him.

“Jackpot,” Genji announces when they find the folder they wanted to find, but weren't sure if it even existed.

Jesse’s desire for his commander only grows stronger in his gut when he sees a heavy cock that matches Reyes’ skin tone held in a hand. It’s big and the head shines with pre cum. There's a patch of dark curls setting nicely on top and strong thighs spread over the bed where Gabriel lies.

If Genji wasn't thirsty before, he is now. His cock twitches in interest against his plate and he swallows hard. Jesse's mouth dries up and he feels hot in another way than before. Genji swipes to the next picture and it’s their commander’s full body reflected on a bathroom mirror, with nothing but a hand towel covering the forbidden treasure between his delicious thighs. The glass is foggy around him, casting almost a silver frame for a perfect painting.

The next one is the same POV as the first, but Reyes’ cock is restrained by tight briefs. The jeans he usually wears are unzipped and opened for it. The picture gives the whole “look what you've caused” vibe to it, like he was teasing from far away whoever he send it to.

The next image made Jesse's breath catch on his throat. Gabriel's beautiful smooth thighs spread again as the man’s set on his knees, exposing a pink hole, loose and slick from being toyed with. Then he’s on his back, ball sack tight and cock proudly hard in his palm. A black plug tucked between his cheeks, widening the pucker, probably a before picture of the previous one. Both agents have the same desire of seeing a third one in person, with come dripping out of the abused hole.

The next swipe causes Genji to hold his breath at the sight of their stoic, proper commander who could kill a man with a glare, looking wrecked and eyes full of lust as he takes a cock in his mouth. By the light color of skin and the blonde curls against Gabriel’s nose, they are sure the cock belongs to Overwatch’s poster boy Jack Morrison. No one knows what the deal with the two commanders is, but there is a history, and there’s no denying it.

Gabe looks so obedient and hungry to be filled. Jesse’s own cock jerks with excitement and longing to feel those puffed lips around himself.

“We should stop,” Jesse suggests, while his cock aches. “I think we have enough proof our boss is not as clean and in charge as he seems. “

Genji looks like he’s in a trance as his thumb keeps swiping and poking on the screen, “There are videos.”

That makes Jesse's mind stop thinking and leans closer, wanting a closer view. The first video Genji plays is an animated version of the picture before, Gabe taking a cock like a good boy.

“You missed my cock, didn't you?” There’s no denying it’s Morrison's voice from behind the camera. Gabriel moans and flutters his eyelids in response. “Yeah. I missed your hot, beautiful mouth on my cock. You do it so well for me.” They notice the way Gabriel quickens his pace with every praise. The action becomes sloppy and the obscene noises become more frequent until the video ends.

Genji swipes quickly, wanting a sequel just as badly as Jesse. If he didn’t do it, the cowboy’s sure he would snatch the phone from the cyborg’s hand. And Genji would have growled.

Gabe’s round and plumb ass bounces on Jack’s cock as he rams into Reyes. The slap of skin of skin is clear, along with the symphony of huffs and moans both men make. Morrison's praises return, and Gabriel pleads for more. Genji and Jesse feel like teenagers again. Watching sinful videos as they explore their bodies and discover a new sensation within them.

White lines spur out of Jack's cock, decorating Gabriel's skin and the video stops, too soon.

The agents look at each other, trying to ignore the fact that both are turned on. Jesse’s noticeable in his pants, and even if Genji’s plate doesn’t show it, Jesse can read him like a book by the way his breath hitched and his blown pupils. They aren’t new to each other’s bodies so there’s no awkwardness in the moment, just a missing piece. A good, submissive commander between them to take both of them at the same time, and losing it the more they rave about Reyes’ beautiful lips around one cock, while his enticing ass bounce on the other.

After they take care of themselves, they make their way to their commander’s office and Jesse enters the code at the door, being one of the few that’s allowed in when Reyes isn’t inside. They’re lucky he isn’t back yet and drop the phone before pacing out of the room. They go about their day normally, until they come across Gabriel. He doesn’t say anything, seems like he didn’t notice his phone was gone, but now Jesse and Genji can’t keep the images out of their heads. When Reyes speaks, they can only hear the obscene moans he made with that mouth. When he walks, they stare at his ass—more than before— in his tight pants and remember how it jiggle against Jack’s hips. If they weren’t surrounded by others, they would let themselves be completely riled up and take the commander right in the middle of the cafeteria. Both think the same thing, would that be something Reyes be into?

[smokycaramel]

Movie Night With The Mills Sisters

 “So what movie are we watching tonight, jenny asks.

I was thinking. The best Man.

“Oh my god! you’ve seen that movie like a gazillion time already. Pick something else.”

“Nope not gonna happen. You know how much i love me some Morris Chestnut.Mm. Mm-Mm-Mm-, says Abbie closing her eyes and sighing. He is so fine I’m telling you. No man should be sculpted like that. It’s like he’s not of this world or something.”

“I know, and what about Tayye Diggs.

“Mmmm, he’s alright. I used to like him back in the day when i first saw him in the movie, How Stella Got Her Groove Back, but then he just seemed suspect when it came to his preference in women. It’s obvious he loves white women. I mean It’s one thing to just randomly fall in love with someone, but it’s a completely different ball of wax when you’re doing everything you can to avoid dating a black woman. And it’s not even about whatever bullshit excuse black men like him come up with. They really have a problem with dark skin. “Ugh i’m so sick of it.

“Definitely, says Jenny in agreement. But who says we should be the one’s sitting on the sidelines waiting. Obviously you and i have never had a problem in the dating department. Especially you.

“And what is that supposed to mean exactly, says Abbie furrowing her brows

“What i’m saying is. Both of us are gorgeous, but only one of us was blessed with a perfect ass, that’s all says Jenny putting up her hands in defense. You know it’s true. They take one look at your ass, and it’s all over. Abbie for the win.You practically have men at your beck and call.. And i know of one already that just so happens to live under this very roof.  A very handsome, six foot tall drink of water by the name of Captain Ichabod Crane. Professor, archivist,witness, chef, and apparently according to you loves to handle your lingerie.

“Oh my god for the last time he picked it up by accident.

“Oh my god will you please stop living in denial. You told me you walked in on him holding one of your sheer chemises until he got caught, and did the typical “Oh Miss Mills please forgive me. i’m terribly sorry. And his hands are all twitchy, and his face has turned red because he’s nervous. Because you make him nervous. And you can’t tell me he wasn’t wondering what would you would look like in it. That poor man has never seen anything so sheer before in his life. Or should i say in his lifetime, says Jenny laughing.

“Why. Why can’t you just let this go already, says Abbie throwing up her hands in frustration.

“Because the guy has a thing for you , or should i say he’s  completely in love with you, and he wants to fuck you. There i said it., says Jenny with her arms folded and with a look of satisfaction on her face in having the ability to unnerve her sister on this very subject. It was obvious to everyone else excep for a very stubborn Abbie.

“Whatever, says Abbie.

“Yeah whatever Ms.Denial,. But i can prove it.

“Really, Abbie snorts. How do you plan on doing that. You gonna go up to him and ask.” 

“No. The movie is all the proof i need.

“I  have no idea what that means.

“Oh you will. Just wait. Jenny had decided to put her plan into motion. “Hey what time is Crane getting home.

“I think in about an hour. Why? 

“No reason. I figured he would already be here by now. Since this is movie night and all.”

“Well he had to finish up some stuff at the archives.

“Okay, says jenny plopping down onto the sofa along with a big bowl of hot buttery popcorn. What are we waiting for. Push play/

‘Fine. By can you not try and eat all the popcorn up like you did last time. you know how much Crane loves popcorn.

“That’s not the only thing he likes, muttered Jenny under her breath.

“What’s that?

“Nothing. 

“It  had been an hour into the movie. “Hey isn’t this the part with the strippers.’

“Yeah. Why.

“I just needed to run to the bathroom really quick, and i didn’t want to miss it. 

“Abbie paused the movie, and got up and went into the kitchen searching for something else to snack on. After all of that salt and butter she wanted something sweet. She happened to look over and see a box of donuts, obviously Jenny had brought them. “Yes. Please let there be something chocolate in here. It just so happens there was. Chocolate covered Bismarcks. jenny’s favorite of course .There  were other reasons for her liking them. Naughty reasons. She always likened them to a black man  going down on a black woman. 

Just then she heard keys in the door. “Crane.

“Leftenant, he called out.

“ In the kitchen. 

“Ah Miss Mills how are you this evening. Enjoying the movie without me i take it.”

“I’m sorry we started the movie without you Crane, it’s just that it’s one of my favorite movies and i kind of wanted a little sister bonding time, you know how Jenny has tendency to disappear for days without calling.

“Please there is no need to explain Ms. Mills. I completely understand he said smiling at her warmly. Merciful heavens she’s beautiful.

“Well you missed the first hour. I hope you don’t mind starting in the middle.

“Tis fine. A movie with the Mills sisters seems delightful.. 

“Good. Might as well take off your coat and get comfortable.  “I already popped popcorn, but i could pop some more.”

“That’s quite alright. 

Jenny entered the kitchen. “Hey Crane looks like you got here just in time, she said trying hard not to laugh. We might as well head in. Coming Abs.

“Coming!

                                                      CHAPTER 2.

                                       BISMARK CONFESSIONS

“ Here you can have my seat right here next to Abbie, she said rubbing the seat cushion with a mischievous look on her face.

“Oh no Ms. Jenny i couldn’t possibly...

“No biggie. I insist.

Abbie at this point was getting annoyed with whatever games her sister was playing. What the hell is she up to .

“You gonna push play.

“Huh. “Oh sorry! 

“could you pass the donuts please. Handing the box over. Would you like to try one Crane.”

“I would indeed. Thank You Miss Jenny. I’ve never had one of these. What are they?

“There called Bismarcks. trust me you′ll love them. The chocolate is to die for, but it’s what’s in the middle that makes it so scrumptious and delectable.One taste and you’ll be addicted.

“Abbie was going to say something, but the scene with the strippers appeared on the screen. Crane looked awestruck. 

‘Wha-Uh-what movie is this he said stammering.

“The Best Man.

“I see... Crane didn’t know where to put his hands. It was obvious the scene was making him nervous, and uncomfortable. He sat flabbergasted as two attractive women one wearing a see through body suit , and the other seemed to be dressed as a Native American. None of the Native American women he came across during his time were’t dressed like that. There he sat with his mouth open as he watched the scantily clad women gyrate and jiggle. The one dressed in black lifted her leg straight in the air. “Good lord he muttered. “How is that even possible. Then if that wasn’t enough the other one bounced her fully rounded rear and attempted to smother the groom to be with her bosom. 

Slap that chocolate ass Lance, yelled one of the characters in the movie.

Abbie looked over at her sister who was motioning with her eyes in the direction of his obvious arousal. Abbie tried her best not to look, but it was hard not too. It seems as though her partner is rather blessed in that area.

“Hey Abs your scene is up next.”

“Crane looked over at his partner with  puzzled look. She never mentioned  ever having appeared in a movie. Leftenant? You’re in this movie. 

“No.

“But why would your sister imply that you are.”

“ Jenny chimed in, “Abbie’s ex. Luke Morales used to compare her to the actress coming up in the next scene.

“Up next fellas is “Sweet Cheeks” and she’s about to bring you something sweet and sugaryyyy. “I bring you Candy. Crane turned his face back to the screen, and saw a beautiful and petite black woman dressed in nothing more than a black bra and panties, and on her perfectly proportioned hips was a metal garter that draped seductively over smooth toned brown thighs.  He could definitely see the comparison. His mind came alive as images of Abbie dressed thusly appeared. There were often times when he would allow his mind to wonder just what his leftenant looked like underneath such fitted attire. From what he could surmise she had a body sculpted of perfection. and a face that could launch a thousand ships, she was that beautiful. He was so preoccupied in thought that he had forgotten about his donut. It’s a wonder he hadn’t squished it.

Jenny had also noticed. “Are you going to eat that, or wait until the chocolate has melted.”

“Of course. he finally bit into it. “Heavens that’s delicious groaning as he took another bite. The middle was smooth, creamy, and rich. With just the right amount of vanilla. Food of the gods, he thought.

“There good right, says Jenny.

“Indeed. I can see why you say they are addictive.

“And that’s not the only thing about them.”

“Oh? There’s more to these delightful confections.

“Oh much, much more.

“Jenny, warns Abbie giving her sister a look like she would kill her right then, and there if she didn’t shut up. There was no stopping her though. Once Jenny starts something she means to see it through, and... She did.

“It just so happens these donuts were Luke’s favorite. He said they reminded him of Abbie. This of course almost caused crane to choke as he swallowed the last bite. Realizing what Jenny meant caused his face to turn red. Suddenly he felt hot all over. Making matters worse was seeing “Candy” the stripper bending over and placing her ass in a man’s face. It was too much. All he could think of was Abbie. Exactly like that, and what she would taste like. Her creamy center displayed before him. For him to devour.His cock plundering her delicious dripping wet heat, as he pounds into her hard and fast. Her full breasts bouncing as she calls out his name. He was so aroused he needed release.

Jenny seemed rather happy with what she had accomplished, but the look from her sister told her that she wasn’t at all pleased with what had transpired. One, because her sister had embarrassed her partner. And second. The man  embodied everything there was about being a gentleman from his time. He practically prided himself on it, so much so that it sometimes it drove her crazy.    Although it was starting to have it’s effects on her. However she would never tell him that, but thanks to her sister the troublemaker everything she had been trying to push down and ignore for last couple of years were now brought to the forefront. Crane definitely had feelings for her. She thought back to all the times he refused to correct those who thought them to be husband and wife. His automatic disdain for any male who dare to look or speak to her.

“You know what. I think we should call it a night, and maybe pick this up at another time she said looking pointedly at her sister.

Jenny stood there smirking, and mouthed. I told you.  Abbie shaking her head decided to flip to regular programming only to be met with: “It’s back. The Victoria’s Secret semi annual sale. Starting tomorrow save on your favorite bras, panties, hosiery. Victoria’s semi- annual sale. And you just got to be there.

Well that’s my cue. See ya tomorrow sis bright and early for the sale! Jenny says winking at her.

Crane stood immediately. “I shall take my leave as well, and bid, Good night. Ms.Jenny. He nods as he quickly exits the room.

 “ Well I know what he’s about to do, and trust me it’s not sleep.

“Leave. Now. Abbie pointing to the door.

“Alright. I’m going. Good night sis. Sweet dreams. 

                                                 The End

What crane would love to see his leftenant in.

[whumppile]

Your fics are really good and fun to read.i love your Spiderman ones those are my favorite! Could you do one where peter has to use his powers at school and he gets shot and tony has to come and save him ?! Pleasee. Keep up the awesome work!!

Hey thank you so much I’m so glad you like my writing! I really appreciate all the support from all my readers so, I’m sorry if this isnt what you had in mind? And also sorry it took a while but anyway here is your fic! It’s called “Shot in the dark” and I will post it on my ff.net and ao3 accounts 

Peter Parker doesn’t like guns. Hates them, actually.

He’d never been a fan of them, but then his Uncle had beenshot and killed right in front of him and he hated them even more. But thething about being a superhero, is that you get into trouble a lot, and usuallya gun or two is involved.

So, while Peter didn’t like guns, he’d become a littledesensitized to the dangers of them, because Spider-Man could take the gunsfrom the bad guys before they got a shot off, or he could swing out of harm’sway before a bullet came close to hitting him. But what was he supposed to doas Peter Parker?

School was supposed to be a safe place, it was supposed tobe somewhere he could be normal, until some idiot gave a psychopath a gun andtold him he had the right to hold it.

Peter had been concentrating on his school work, and doingreally well, until something pricked at his ears, something only enhancedsenses can hear.

Footsteps coming down the hallway, metal clinking together,but muffled, like coins or…something else rattling in a pocket. He would havetuned it out, had it not been for the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

He shot up from his chair, staring at the door with wideeyes, hands shaking just a little as every hair on his arms and neck stood straightup.

What was he supposed to do? He wasn’t Spider-Man here, hewas just Peter, and there was someone with a gun coming towards theirclassroom.

Ned noticed his friends discomfort and nudged his elbow.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Peter could barely breathe, as those footsteps saunteredcloser. The gunman was coming right at them, steps calm and measured, as if hehad as much time as he wanted, and all the control.

Metal clinked again and Peter realised that it was the soundof loose bullets rattling around in his pocket. He was planning for a lot ofvictims, but Peter couldn’t let that happen.

The teenager sprinted over to the door and locked it,turning out the lights as he did. His hands scrabbled for his phone in hispocket, as his teacher called out to him, annoyed.

“Peter, what are you doing? Turn those lights back on andget to your seat.”

The footsteps continued, coming ever closer, and Peter puthis phone to his ear as he begged his teacher to understand.

“There’s someone with a gun, right outside! Everyone stayquiet and get under your desks, I’m calling for help!”

His teacher, Mrs Philips’ face went white, as every studentdid the same, staring at Peter in shock.

“How do you-?”

“Just do it! And text everyone you can think of, to tellthem to do the same.” He was trying to keep his voice low, so as not to alertthe attention of the gunman in the hall, but he was freaking out. Finally, Tonypicked up the phone.

“Hey, kid. I’m kind of in the middle of something so if-“

Peter held the phone close and hissed into it, words comingfast and panicked. He’d seen news reports of school shootings and new it couldget ugly real fast, and there wasn’t much he could do about it.

“There’s someone outside my class with a gun. I don’t knowwhat to do, he’s only like, ten meters away and I don’t have my sui-“

Tony’s voice was hard, a tell-tale sign he was just aspanicked as Peter, but there was noise in the background like chairs scuffingagainst the floor, and Peter knew he was coming.

“Okay, I’ll be right there. Just try to hide, and don’t doanything reckless. I’ll notify the police, just stay hidden okay? You aren’tSpider-Man right now, so just be safe as Peter Parker.”

Peter agreed, catching Ned’s eye from across the room andnodding slightly, letting him know help was coming.

Everyone was under their desks now, and with the lights off,Peter was hoping the gunman would pass by their room, thinking it was empty. Itsounded like the gunman was coming to their class, but he could be going toanyone in the school.

Tony was still on the line with him, and he could hear thethrusters from the Iron Man suit. He’d be there soon, and they’d all be safe.

Peter’s attention was taken away from the slow, leisurelyfootsteps as Tony spoke again.

“Where is the guy with the gun? Are you somewhere safe?Police should be arriving in five minutes.”

Peter ran a hand through his hair as he replied, trying tokeep his heart rate steady. He needed to focus.

“I’m in my history class, I turned the lights off and lockedthe door, and everyone is texting people in other classes to do the same.Hopefully, anyone far enough away from him, can get out of the classes withouthim knowing, and when he walks past our room he’ll think its empty and keepgoing, so when he’s far enough away we can get out. Then he’ll just be walkingaround an empty school, but there are a lot of people just in this one block,what am I supposed to do if he starts firing?”

It was getting harder to breathe, and Ned was watching himfrom under his desk with wide eyes. He knew what he was asking and shook hishead. He didn’t have his suit, Tony had taken it for repairs after his lastdisastrous mission; he didn’t even have his web slingers, and his old suit wasat home. Tony had told him to take a week off from Spider-Man duty, and Peterhad actually thought it would be a good idea.

Not so much now.

“Good job, kid. Just follow the plan and stay quiet, there’snothing else you can do. You aren’t bullet proof and there’s no way you cantake on an armed gunman without your suit. Just stay quiet and wait for me toget there, okay?”

Peter nodded, not daring to utter another word, because hecould hear those footsteps coming closer. Too close.

They were only two meters from the door now. Peter’s heartalmost leapt out of his chest as Tony spoke again.

“I just got word from the cops, he’s a bank robber, theychased him but lost track of him a few blocks away and they don’t think he’sthere to hurt anybody. He’s probably just looking for a hostage, to use to makea deal. They’re almost there, and kids and teachers are already being evacuatedfrom other classes.”

Peter breathed just a little easier at that, but the gunmanwas still there, and he held his breath and those footsteps came to a stopoutside the door.

The faces of his classmates were all aimed towards him, inthe dark. They were scared, and he could do nothing to help them.

The room was silent, as everyone held their breaths.

The door handle jiggled, turning, and twisting as the mantried to open it. It wasn’t until he thumped against the door, that someonemade a noise.

It was such a small sound, just one terrified whimper as thegunman slammed against the door, but it was loud enough, and the thumpingstopped, replaced by the sound of a gun tapping against the wood, and a huskyvoice.

“Open the door, or I’ll shoot through it and kill everyone.”

Peter froze, as terrified faces looked to him for guidance.He was the one in front of the door, he was the one that had locked it, andnone of them wanted to make the decision.

Tony’s voice came through the phone. “Peter…” But he didn’tknow what to do either.

The voice came again, louder this time. “Open the door, oreveryone dies! You have three seconds!”

Peter didn’t want to do it. He wanted to be anywhere else inthat moment, he wanted his suit, he wanted a mask to hide how scared he was,but he had nothing but the phone in his hand.

He unlocked the door, jumping back as the gunman burstthrough, making a few kids let out startled cries.

He was carrying a machine gun, with a bag slung over hisshoulder, filled with cash. Some of it was splattered with blood.

A few kids were crying softly behind him, and Peter clenchedhis fist to stop his hands from shaking as the gunman walked into the class,aiming his gun at the teacher behind her desk.

“You. Come with me.”

Mrs Phillips nodded shakily and got up from her crouch,tears in her eyes as she walked towards him. But Peter couldn’t let her go. Shehad a kid, a three-year-old named Tyler, and he couldn’t just watch her walkout with someone that could kill her.

“No, take me instead.”

A few gasps echoed in the dark behind him, and Ned’s softvoice. “Peter, no!”

Mrs Phillips frightened gaze turned towards him, as the bankrobber frowned. “What?”

Peter raised his chin, defiant, as his teacher watched himin awe.

“She has a family, she’s a mom, I don’t even have parents,just an aunt. Take me, and I’ll do whatever you want, I won’t cause trouble,just don’t hurt anyone else.”

The gunman looked vaguely impressed, while Mrs Phillip’sshook her head.

“No, Peter I can’t let you.”

He gave her a smile, fighting to keep it relaxed and free ofthe fear he felt coursing through his entire body. He turned his phone towardsher from where his arm hung at his side, subtly enough that the gunman didn’tnotice.

“It’s okay. Just keep everyone else safe.”

The woman looked down at his phone screen, seeing the callername across the screen. He was still connected to Tony, the other man hearingthe whole thing, and he was almost there. Mrs Phillips knew about theinternship, and seeing the name, and knowing Iron Man was coming, convinced herthat help was on the way, and she nodded slightly.

Peter gave one last smile to Ned, knowing he’d be foreverapologizing for the look of fear he got in return, before the gunman grabbedhis arm and pulled him into the hall.

“Come on, kid. You’regonna be my ticket out of here.”

Ned didn’t want him to go, he didn’t want him to get hurt,but he couldn’t do anything as he watched his best friend walk out with thegunman.

He watched Peter as he left, seeing the last look he senthim, and as much as Peter tried to hide it, he could tell he was scared.

Ned gripped the legs of his desk as he watched Peter leave,the door remaining open as the man led Peter down the hall, a gun against hisback.

He had never been more scared in his life, watching his bestfriend walk out the door with a criminal, knowing he didn’t have his Spider-Mansuit with him. But it would be okay, because Mr Stark was coming, and Peter gotinto fights all the time and was fine. Right?

Ned watched through the open door, watching their shadowsstretch across the floor, as shouts were heard. The police had arrived.

Ned couldn’t hear like Peter could, but he could hear thepoliceman call out for the gunman to drop his weapon, and then a hurriedargument between the gunman and Peter, before a gunshot rang out. A few kidslet out frightened screams at the sound, but Ned couldn’t breathe.

And then he felt as if his heart had stopped too. Peter fellto the floor in front of the doorway, hands desperately pressing against theblood pouring from his stomach. Kids screamed and cried around him, as moregunshots fired, but Ned didn’t make a sound, his head spinning as he watchedhis best friend bleed out on the floor.

………………

Tony heard Peter give himself up to the gunman, to save theteacher, and he heard them walk away from the classroom. His heart hammered,almost painfully, against his chest as he continued to listen to the horrifyingevents unfold.

He had told Peter to lay low, to hide, and he was so closeto the school, but too far away to help as the gunman threatened a class fullof kids. The call was muffled slightly, from where Peter had put the phone inhis pocket, and he knew Peter wouldn’t be able to hear him anymore, as hewalked out of the class with the criminal.

It was the most sickening feeling, hearing everything butnot being able to help, and he thought it had been okay when he heard thepoliceman.

“Kyle Monger, drop your weapon!” Help was there, Peter wouldbe okay.

But the gunman didn’t want to give up just yet, and hisvoice was hard, and unafraid. “Leave, before I kill you, and then the kid.”

Tony could almost see the way Peter would have looked as heleaped for the gun, hearing him pant and yell as he struggled with Monger.

“No! You promised you wouldn’t hurt anyone!”

He let out a shout of his own as he heard the rattle of thegun, and grunts of effort as Kyle Monger tried to wrestle his gun back, Peterdoing everything he could to protect the cop.

“Peter!”

“Let go, kid!” Kyle sounded angry and that only worried Tonyfurther.

“You can’t hurt him!”

And then the gun fired and Peter gasped. Tony held hisbreath, as he heard another gunshot and a cry of pain from the robber. Then thecops voice, panicked, as Peter’s laboured breathing shook.

“Monger is down, I got him in the west block, but he shot akid! I need medics here now! I repeat, some kids been shot! I need immediateassistance!”

Tony almost passed out while flying, but Friday kept him oncourse as her quiet voice interrupted Peters wet panting.

“I’ll notify Dr Banner of the incoming patient.”

………………

Ned watched Peter twitch on the floor, body instinctivelytrying to curl away from the pain, as he struggled to pull in air. Blood wassoaking through his blue shirt, staining his hands and pooling on the floorbeneath him. He was bleeding out so fast, it seemed to only take a secondbefore a policeman was leaning over him, pressing his jacket to Peter’sstomach.

Kids were crying around him, and Ned didn’t want to see hisbest friend die, he didn’t want to see him bleeding out and gasping for breath,but he had to help, he couldn’t do nothing.

Mrs Phillips words were cracked and wet with tears as shecalled out to Ned, but he didn’t listen, just kept crawling over to the hall tohis friend.

“Ned, honey, don’t look! Stay under your desk!”

The policeman was talking to Peter, telling him to stayawake, and Peter was trying, blinking up at him as he tried to breathe throughthe blood filling his mouth. The policeman looked up as Ned came closer, andPeter coughed, sending red splatters to cover his lips and a trail of blood todrip out the corner of his mouth, rolling down his cheek.

The cop gave Ned an apologetic frown, hating what he neededto ask him.

“Kid? I have to check on the suspect. Can you press down onthis for me? Press really hard, we have to stop the bleeding.”

Ned didn’t move for a moment, body frozen as he watched theblood drip from Peter’s mouth to the floor. The cop called him again, louder,making Ned jump a little.

“Kid!”

Ned lifted wet eyes to him, and the cops face softened alittle.

“Is he your friend?”

Ned just nodded, looking back to Peter, where he wasblinking up at the ceiling, mouth open and gasping.

“I’m sorry. Help will be here soon, just push down on this,and I’ll be right back.”

The cop took Neds hands and pulled them to Peter’s stomach,pressing them down on the jacket there. Peter let out a cry of pain, eyesflitting to Ned as if just realising he was there, and Ned let out a small sob.The cop went to tend to Kyle Monger, and Ned pressed down on the bullet woundin his best friend’s stomach.

“Peter, I’m here.”

His voice was wobbly and small but Peter dragged his glassygaze to him, hands coming to grip Ned’s slick with his own blood. Ned releasedanother sob.

“Hold on, helps coming. Just hold on.”

Peter sucked in a shallow breath, struggling to get hiswords out through the pain clouding his every sense.

“It’s o…kay.”

Ned shook his head, pressing harder on the still bleedingwound. Why wouldn’t it stop?

“No, it’s not. You got shot, Peter. None of this is okay.”

Peter blinked sluggishly and rolled his head a little, in anexhausted version of a head shake.

“It is, because you’re okay. I’ll be fine. I…” He coughedpainfully, eyes scrunching shut against the agony of it, before pushing out thelast of his sentence.

“…I heal fast, remember?”

Ned looked back down at the mess of blood, red soakingthrough the cop’s’ jacket and covering his hands. God, it was everywhere.

“The bleeding won’t stop, Peter, I don’t know what to do.What do I-?”

His words faded as he looked back up at the other boy’sface, because Peter’s eyes were rolling back into his head.

“No! Peter, stay awake!”

But, Peter’s eyes closed and his breathing was nothing morethan shallow puffs of air. Ned’s best friend was dying under his hands.

The cop looked up at his frantic yells, but didn’t have timeto do anything else before something smashed behind them.

Ned looked up in fright, as Iron Man smashed through awindow in a nearby, empty classroom, and came soaring down the hall towardsthem.

Ned sobbed with relief, whole body shaking as Tony landednext to him, mask opening to reveal his panicked expression.

“Peter!”

Ned pressed down on the jacket once more, but it was almostuseless at this point and he knew it. There was too much blood on the floor.

“He tried to save everyone. He gave himself up so the badguy wouldn’t take our teacher. He…he got shot. It won’t stop bleeding.”

Tony looked down at the kid and tried to remember how tobreathe. He was so pale, and the red splattered across his mouth meant he wasalready drowning in his own blood, and would die soon, if he didn’t get thehelp he needed.

He needed to move, he needed to pick him up and fly him tothe base, but he just…couldn’t.

Peter didn’t look like a superhero, he just looked like a fifteen-year-oldkid, and Tony didn’t know that he could stomach looking at him for much longer.He looked dead, and every part of him screamed for the terrible injustice thatit was.

Ned was sobbing quietly, shaking as tears trailed down hischeeks, hands soaked in the blood of his best friend. Tony felt so horrible forhim, for having to see Peter that way, for having to hold that burden.

He tried to keep his voice steady as he laid a hand on thekid’s shoulder.

“You did good, Ned. I’ll take him now, I’ll get him somehelp.”

Ned nodded, but didn’t want to take his hands away fromPeter’s stomach, worried about what may happen when he did.

Tony looked around for some help, spotting a teacher in thedoorway behind them. She had her hand over her mouth, and a face wet withtears. Tony gestured towards her, grateful when she came forward quickly.

He tried to be as gentle as he could, as he gathered Peterinto his arms, cradling his cold, limp form, against his chest. The teacher,sniffed as she pulled Ned’s hands away from his friend’s body, and hugged himas he fell against her, hands dripping with red.

Ned watched as Tony took away his friend, and just hoped hewouldn’t lose him.

………………

It took far too long to get Peter back to the base, and Tonyheld him tight, talking to him the whole time and just praying he was stillalive.

“Hold on, Pete. Just keep breathing, I’ve got you now, everything’sgoing to be okay. Stay with me, kid.”

It was all a blur when he arrived at the Avengers compound,Bruce and the med team took Peter from him, placing him in a bed and cutting ofhis shirt, pressing gauze and bandages to the bullet wound, and yelling things.

Tony didn’t move until they wheeled the kid away, and stronghands pulled him to a chair, a calm voice interrupting his thoughts.

“Tony, get out of the suit.”

He blinked, wet eyes focussing on Caps face in front of him,watching him with concern.

He came out of the suit, stumbling against the hard floor,and turning to look at what Cap was staring at. There was blood smeared allover the chest plate, and that was it. Tony couldn’t take the pain anymore. Hisknees buckled and Steve caught him before he fell to the floor.

Cap held him as he cried, gripping the soldier as he triedto breathe.

Steve didn’t know what to say, what was there to say? Peterhad been shot at one of the only places he was supposed to be safe in. Thenormal part of his life, the part he got to be a kid in, had been intruded onby a thug with a gun, and now he was dying.

There was nothing he could say to make it better, but hetried anyway.

“He’ll be okay, Tony.” His voice was quiet, because theyboth knew he might be wrong. And that hurt more than anything.

………………

It took a few hours of surgery, but the bullet was removed,and the bleeding was finally stopped. Peter was okay.

Tony wiped at his eyes, as Ned walked ahead of him, intoPeter’s room. He’d sent Happy to pick him up from school, after his parents hadmade sure he was okay, and he tried to be strong as the kid approached the bed.

Peter lay there, covered in wires and pale, his eyes wereclosed and he wasn’t going to wake up anytime soon. He’d lost so much blood hisheart had almost had nothing left to pump, and it would be a while before hehad enough strength to wake up.

Ned’s steps faltered as he saw his best friend, and Tonyplaced a hand on his shoulder.

“He’s okay. Don’t be scared, go talk to him.”

The teenager nodded and took a deep breath as he approachedPeter’s unconscious form, carefully picking up one of his limp hands to hold.

“Hey Peter. Um…Please don’t ever do that again, I don’tthink I can handle it. And I can’t lose you, you’re the only friend I have.Actually…you’re more like my brother. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”He sniffed and wiped at his eyes, before trying to think of something else tosay. As long as he spoke, he wouldn’t have to hear the too-slow beating of theheart monitor.

“Oh, dude Captain America shook my hand. So, that was cool.I think I might have blacked out though because I don’t remember what I said tohim.”

Tony laughed a little and patted his shoulder,encouragingly.

“You told him your name twice, but it’s been a long day, heunderstands.”

Ned smiled just a little, and sat down in the chair next toPeter’s bed, as Tony pulled a blanket from the end and draped it over thespider baby, unable to hold back his worry at the dark circles under his eyes.

“Damn it. The first time I meet him and I embarrass myself.”He sighed, and Tony’s heart broke at the pain in his voice. “Please wake up,Peter.”

Tony sat on the other side of the bed and watched over thetwo kids, wondering how the hell he’d come to end up there.

He’d be having a talk with Peter when he woke up, althoughhe didn’t know what he would say. He was mad, because Peter was supposed tostay out of trouble, he was supposed to let the cops handle it, but he hadtaken things into his own hands.

But he couldn’t be mad that Peter had saved his whole class,and been willing to die in order to protect others, even when he was scared.

Maybe he should just take them all on vacation instead, theycould certainly use it.

He sighed, and wiped a tired hand over his face. He didn’t knowwhat he was going to do, but for now, it was enough that Peter was alive. So,he sat back and listened to Ned ramble on to his best friend, talking abouteverything that had happened and all the cool stuff he’d seen.

They wouldn’t always be, because Peter found trouble whereverhe went, but for now, they were safe.