#playing with colours and layers a lot ehe :>

[keeps-ache]

apricot, apricot ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ !!

[kozachenko]

(Click the image for better quality)

Yipeeee that Keiki and Mayumi fanart I posted the WIP of is finally done woooo- This piece was a very experimental one that I'm kind of OK on. Maybe because I've just gone insane looking at it for so long and I'm my own worst critic lol.

Artist's Notes;

So I've once again been playing around with my rendering style, mainly because I have been wanting to improve my lighting for a while now and as I was just scrolling through Tumblr, I saw some of the official art for that one webcomic-turned-animated-TV-Show Lackadaisy and was immediately inspired. I also have seen a technique a few times in the past where the lineart and shading are merged together, so I've been meaning to try that for a little while.

I did some experimentation on this one sketch of Keiki I posted in my sketch dump and I really liked the results of it, so I carried those over to this piece.

I ended up scaling up Keiki and Mayumi from the original WIP because I felt like they were both getting lost in the composition, and I'm glad for that because I think it works a lot better. I'm not a fan of how Mayumi's sword turned out at all, but it's not really meant to be the focus of the piece so eh. Overall, I think I could do better with my colours, probably because with Keiki and Mayumi's colours, I did them flat in greyscale and then used a brush on the overlay blend mode to colour all of them over, after which I changed the base layer for their colours from white to yellow and then lowered the opacity so it all went together better. I also decided to use gradient maps for a lot of the background elements, mainly to experiment with getting in my values first to make them pop out more. I ended up finding a really nice sky gradient on Clip Studio Paint that I really liked, and that kinda helped to establish the colour scheme of the background a lot. I think the whole "start in greyscale then colour" thing really works better with painterly styles rather than more illustrative ones, and while it is good at making sure your values are more readable, I honestly don't think I have the skill level to pull that off yet. Honestly, I think I've been looking at this drawing too long or maybe I added too much to it, but I wish I could've made the colours less monochromatic, but I'll just save that for the next piece I do.

I do love how the flame (...well it's more of a weird space rift than anything in this piece) and the lighting turned out, those were fun to do. I was initially struggling with the flame and how Mayumi is positioned in front of it before realizing "Oh wait! This is a weird abstraction of a weird creature! I don't have to follow the laws of anatomy!" and just dislocated it's flamey bottom jaw from the main body. I also changed the colours of it since I was really not liking how incredibly bright it was when it had lighter colours. Again, the gradient maps served the more painterly style of the flames well.

I also love how Mayumi turned out. I could do her sleeves better but that's more of just me needing to study how those types of sleeves fold in that position more. I'm also very happy with the posing, the technique I used for that was taking photos of myself in the positions I wanted, blocking in the silhouette and then modifying that by adjusting it to my lines of action that I drew on top of the original photos, and then sketching over the silhouettes and drawing in the shapes of the hands overtop of the photo if I needed to get the fine details right. As for what I do to take the pictures myself, I use a tall chair I have, prop up my phone with a phone stand, put on a ten second timer and scramble to get in position. Yes, I did have to use a bunch of thin markers I had to try and get the hand positioning on Keiki's pose right, yes I do have a fake sword that I used to get the positioning of Mayumi's arms and hand right, the sword was for an old Halloween costume from several years ago. I really like how both Keiki and Mayumi turned out in this drawing, I'll have to play around with these designs for them more in future drawings.

Also, if you wanna know why I draw buildings like that, when I watched Fantasia 2000 as a kid (One of the Disney movies where they make really beautiful animations to classical music) the way they drew the buildings in the first few sections Rhapsody in Blue segment (the jazz one with the cities) changed my brain chemistry and now whenever I need to draw buildings really quickly, I refer back to that. Since the buildings aren't really the main subject, I didn't put much thought into them.

As you can tell I am very tired of this piece, mainly because I made things harder for myself by overcomplicating the process compared to what I usually do, mainly with the whole "starting in grayscale then adding colour." I'd honestly just prefer having a black layer set to colour that I can just toggle on and off when I need to see the values, but it was good to experiment. And that was mainly the point of this whole drawing, to experiment. I'm definitely going to have to play around with this new style I'm going for, mainly because I liked how it turned out a lot in the augmented Keiki sketch, and also because I want to find ways of making it suit my style more. I also really want to keep experimenting with my lighting like this, it's very fun. Last but not least I am never starting in greyscale again because dear god I do not like the workflow it forced me into. I don't have a problem with the method itself it's mainly just a skill issue lol.

If you wanna read my headcanons for these two, I put them in my WIP post, so you can read them there if you want to. The more I look at this the more I prefer the simplicity of my WIP. I might go back to this and just take away the fancy colours and effects to see what it looks like without all of that stuff and reblog this post with that drawing, but for now, I don't think I can look at this drawing again for a while.

[kindlespark]

this is gonna be SO long and rambly sorry anyway i saw a post abt how babel does queer characters and it got me thinking abt why the tropes it uses would usually turn me off other stories but didn’t here

MAJOR BABEL SPOILERS //

i feel like i’d be more mad abt how robinramy ended up in babel if it marketed itself as queer lit at all or if its fans were going “WOW AMAZING QUEER REP” abt it. but no one told me any of that, so finding out they were gay was just a fun little bonus surprise to me. i get why ppl are eh abt robinramy not getting together/technically still being subtext (which i dont think is really true btw like the book literally says “robin was falling in love” but idk i guess if you were stupid you might’ve assumed that it was falling in love with oxford given how romantic some of the other language is (WHICH IS ALSO THE POINT bc i think robin’s friendship with ramy blurring into romance is why he romanticised like all his friendships/experiences in oxford BUT IM GETTING OFF-TOPIC)). i just think robin’s repression abt being gay was intrinsically tied to his attitudes on imperialism (wrt refusing to acknowledge anything that complicated his life until it was too late) and i don’t consider it a cop out or queerbait. like i genuinely don’t think robinramy could ever have gotten together without drastic alterations being made in terms of plot and character. plus i think it’s clear that kuang didn’t want to write a story with any kind of focus on romance at all, because it’s not that kind of book. there’s no successful het romance either, so it grates a lot less. the only reason romance is included at all is to show the ways in which white entitlement manifests. so the tragic way robinramy played out just made sense to me.

and i speak as someone who accidentally spoiled myself on You Know What in the middle of reading and i was like ugghh boooo dreading it the whole time expecting to roll my eyes when it happened but then when it did i was like. wow im actually not that mad LMFAO 😭😭😭 actually thematically the book sets it up so well that i believed that this was unfortunately the only way it could’ve gone. babel is about the loss and tragedy and grief that colonised people experience. it’s about the lengths people will go to to uphold empire and the lengths ppl will go to to tear it down like idk 😭 i guess it is bury your gays but it didnt bother me this time because i thought it fit thematically ❤️ i enjoy tragedy as a genre a lot and i would’ve made it gay anyway you know. thanks rf kuang for doing it for me so i didnt have to.

WHICH IS ALL TO SAY that i guess if you’re going into babel for the queer rep without appreciating that the story is fundamentally a tragedy it would feel like it’s just reusing tired tropes….. but i think the choices kuang made were rly deliberate and not in a way that feels like trauma porn or shock value. the book is fundamentally about the struggles of poc so the layer of queerness that was introduced felt like a subtle extension of the experiences of characters of colour in the book, and i enjoyed and related to it as a queer chinese person who kind of realised they had to prioritise their fight for the liberation of poc over queerness mainly because the idea of western queer liberation cannot be dissociated from imperialism and many aspects of homophobia as we know it was an export of christian european empire into our colonised countries in the first place and FUCK THIS IS A WHOLE OTHER TANGENT ABOUT HOW I THINK RAMY AS A CHARACTER IS EMBLEMATIC OF THE TENSION AND STRUGGLE THAT QUEER POC DIASPORA HAVE BETWEEN OUR IDENTITIES GODDAMNIT OK FORGET IT POST CANCELLED i just rly think babel’s handling of queer characters is fine and makes sense and i like it personally and maybe i will make a coherent analysis about it one day but that day is not today byeeeeeee

[marukissnack]

A cackle can be heard from a dark corner as on your screen an anon hath asked for more turtle ranting!!!

🧫 🧪🪰🧑‍🍼

and one more that isn't on the list

Please tell me more about Sandro if you can!!!!

Anon…you’re after my own heart here. Ily, (but like platonically)

Find the list of questions here!

🧫 Were your turtles mutated intentionally or on accident?

Their mutation was VERY much an accident. It happened during what was supposed to be a quick ninja-in ninja-out mission, but…somebody else was there when they shouldn't have been.

It was really a major case of wrong place; wrong time. Or right place; right time? Eh, depends on who you ask I guess.

🧪 Where does the mutagen come from?

I talked a bit about this in the Shredder’s Motivation question, but I can go a little more into detail.

T.C.R.I is a science & technology research company, with multiple locations across the states (and still branching out). Their main location is in NYC. They have many fields of research, but the only branches that matter for this question are the ones specialized in medical enhancement formulas (like…steroids) & DNA.

Saki persuades (read: bribes) the lead scientists of these branches, Dr. Baron Draxum & Dr. Victoria Falco, to create a formula that genetically alters a person’s DNA & essentially turns anyone who takes it into a nearly unstoppable force: increased strength, speed, senses, the works (of course they can’t remove the humanity of someone so they’re still mortal and all.)

The substance, or ooze if you will, that mutates the turtles is the first remotely successful batch of this formula. Still not perfect, but highly potent stuff.

🪰 Is there a Baxter stockman in your au?

Currently, no. But I would like to include him somewhere if I can, as he’s one of my favourite B-list villains. He will most likely have a more minor role, similar to his Mirage origins or in Rise, if I do add him.

🧑‍🍼 How does Splinter raise the boys?

……….

Splinter tried to give the boys as normal a life as possible, given their whole turtle situation. They are not hidden away, never to see the light of day, but they are not paraded around either. They often went to the grocery store when needed, went to parks to play (albeit usually later than most kids would), etc. they were simply covered up and layered in clothing. One of the perks of having a human presenting guardian, I suppose.

Other than that…they were raised with the best intentions an “I am an early 20’s adult living in a bachelor apartment suddenly now a parental guardian of four toddler boys wtf am I doing” can possibly offer. Sure it wasn’t perfect, yeah there were a lot of mess ups, but they were family, and there were rarely doubts about that.

Still aren’t, really.

❓Please tell me more about Sandro if you can!!!!

Sandro: Named after the Italian Renaissance painter Alessandro Filipepi (AKA Botticelli), artist behind the famous work “The Birth of Venus” amongst many others.

He can be rather obnoxious, and has an abrasive, nosy, and younger-sibling brat personality. He’s the type to insult you with the most innocently sincere smile on his face. Never seems able to sit still, even when talking directly to him. Competition is his main driving force, with a great desire to be better than others. But only when he wants to succeed in that aspect; he’s not gonna bother being better than you at knitting, ‘cause that pastime doesn’t interest him.

What does interest him is fighting and sparring, as it helps him regulate his energy. He’s quite strong, despite not being a very big guy, and prefers a hand-to-hand combat style. Although he’s learned to restrain himself from jumping into any and every fight, the moment he gets the green light you’d better be prepared ‘cause he will move in FAST. He also likes a good prank (who doesn’t??), and snacks. Ninja Diet be darned, the boy will have his oreos if he wants them!!

And yes, Sandro is a turtle. He’s a red-eared slider. His colour code is Emerald.

[the-phantom-ender]

S. So. I reblogged this post earlier. And. And I wanted to see a fic for it.

But, uh... I'm very impatient. So I wrote it myself.

LISTEN. LISTEN. I KNOW I HAVE REQUESTS TO BE WORKING ON. HOWEVER, CONSIDER: PHILZA MINECRAFT.

Watson Phillips. That was the name he was going by at this point. He had his wings, practically useless by now, binded and pinned to his back. You could hardly see the bump left by them under the layers of clothing. It was uncomfortable, sure, but not bad. The ruler of this land was a Piglin, he couldn’t help but be reminded of… an old friend.

He sighed, waiting quietly for the event to start. And it did! Oh it did. He didn’t get much of a view of things when the first two gladiators went up to bat, being much to caught up in aiming the bow in his hands, quiver strapped over his shoulder. All he knew was that one of them, Lagius was it, lost miserably. Not that he would judge much, really.

He only really came to be aware of what was happening when he was approached. And… then he saw a very, very familiar face. Watson almost froze where he stood, but covered his tracks with grace, saying he was more or less just focused on target practice. It was a lie, but not an unbelievable one. He rolled his shoulders, back aching.

The cameraman was Karl Jacobs.

There was absolutely no doubt in his mind. For one, his clothing was absolutely not time appropriate. The brightly coloured spiral hoodie did not fly anymore, no sir. For two: Watson knew what reincarnation looked like. This was the same face. This was different.

He decided that when this was over, he would get a chance to talk to Karl.

Watson lost his fight. He kind of threw it, in fairness. The other guy was drunk off his ass and he felt a little guilty fighting him. Also the zero gravity ruining his shot did him in a little. He was deadly on target with a bow, but if a person could easily side step because of how slowly it moved, there was really no point.

After that, he was content just… standing around. He got a little drunk at one point, but he sobered up quick enough that it may well have never happened. It was nice getting to know the rest of the people around, they all seemed alright enough.

Then he spoke to the Ran fellow. An enderman, surely, through and through. Had the same genetic mutation as… someone he used to know. Made the eyes green. Not very common, but not terribly uncommon, either. They carried themselves like anyone could come at them at any time. And considering everything going on, he might have been right with the caution.

“So… Ran, was it? Enderman name.”

He perked up, ears flicking slightly,” Yes. It’s common. You’re... versed in the culture?” “Eh,” Watson shrugged,” I’ve been taught some things by some old friends. Know a little of the language. I’m a little rusty, though.”

The two of them stuck by each other through a lot of the rest of the tournament. Warbling occasionally in a language others didn’t understand. Though Ran did comment, at one point, that the way he spoke it was very outdated. All he did was shrug and say that the guy who taught him might have thought it was funny. That seemed to be enough of that.

At the end, Ran managed to yank both of them out of the lava, keeping both from a rather unsavory death by fire. They stood behind a pillar, listening to chaos erupt around them. Jackie had won. And he was directed to… kill the cameraman. Oh no, absolutely fucking not.

Watson nudged Ran,” Hey, mate, when the kid goes to deal the killing blow to the camera man, is there any way you can just… blip over there and make sure he doesn’t actually die?”

“... Yeah, I can manage that.”

Ran delivered on his word, too. Before Watson knew it, Karl was behind the pillar with them and no one was the wiser. He lurched up, bewildered, clearly expecting to be anywhere but there.

“...What the honk?”

There it was.

“Ran, mate, if you don’t mind. I’d like to have a private word with him.” A shrug,” Alright. I have some… business to attend to, anyways.” A slight salute, and then he was gone.

Karl had tried to slink away, but Watson firmly grabbed his arm and forced him to stay. He threw a cloak over the man’s shoulders and snuck them out with the crowd. To his credit, he didn’t complain. It was… almost uncomfortable how resigned he was to this, honestly. Eventually, Watson tugged Karl around a corner and out of sight.

“How are you here, Karl Jacobs?”

“What?”

“Don’t play stupid, mate.”

“H-how…” Karl blinked, moving to hold his head,” How do you know who I- have I met you? My memory, um, it isn’t… the greatest. So. If I’m forgetting you, I’m sorry-”

“I, gah, do I really have to spell this out for you?”

“... Yeees.”

“I swear to gods if this is just because I binded my fuckin’ wings…” Watson sighed.

It wasn’t like he could just… take off the binding. He’d pinned them down pretty damn well, it’d take a while to unwrap things. Still, he supposed those were the most defining features about him. Unless… did he still keep that thing in his bag? It was old and busted by now, but he’d replaced it more than once already and didn’t wanna do it again.

He opened his satchel, rustling around for a few moments. A small smile grew on his face as he saw the edge of the green and white rim. With a flourish, Watson pulled out the bucket hat and placed it on his head. It fit better when his hair was longer. Waving his hands, jazz hands, he whispered out a little ‘ta-da!’

“PHILZA MIN-”

“SHHHH!” Watson hissed, shoving a hand over Karl’s mouth,” Not so fuckin’ loud, mate.”

A beat.

“Yeah, though. You died. A very long time ago. How the fuck are you… here, Karl?”

“Uh…” Karl’s eyes darted around,” Would you… believe me if I said that I’m, uh, I’m on… business.”

[you-will-return]

For once, I'm actually doing what I said I'd do in a timely manner.

So this will be jacket post part two: electric boogaloo, bc I didn't want the other one to get too long.

Anyway so yesterday I finished all the sewing (you'll see what I mean) and on Wednesday I finished the painting at Maxi's place (who btw came over and helped me finish my uni stuff so everybody go thank Maxi bc otherwise I'd still be sitting here crying over my shitty printer.... anyways)

Let's get to it

Here we have the front of the jacket (I'll show the collar area in more detail in a sec). On the right pocket I added my LOTSAD pin (yes, I still think the abbreviation is funny), originally I wanted to put the Blind Channel one there but then I realized 'sewing inside of a pocket sucks ass, as does sewing through two layers of jean fabric at once', so here we are. The sewing doesn't look very clean but fuck it (it's just rock'n'roll, okay I'll shut up). Maxi told me 'It would've looked better if you had cross stitched it' to which i replied 'Honey, I'm just glad that it's on there'. Anywho underneath the ghost, between the buttons I added the word(s) 'care fully' (which can be read as one or two words and I kinda like that. It's a Mitski reference but also I just love playing with language).

Here we have the LOTSAD pin (and shitty sewing job) in more detail and as you can see I finally added the GIANTS pin above the Get Up coward.

The Joonas smiley got some company. Tbh sewing the beads on like this was so much easier than trying to sew on the pins.

More beads!!! I decided to make the rays two-colored bc why not? And I know the bead placement is a bit on the nose, but eh who cares? Also I added the birds last minute bc freedom and the sea and all that (in my heart they're evil lil seagulls).

(This is nothing new but I just wanted to show it to y'all colored in)

From bottom to top: The knife (!!) is finally colored in and I couldn't be happier. Imagine walking by someone and then boom KNIFE!! (I hope you can tell how much I love this stupid bloody knife). Above this I added one of my favourite songs off of the new album. But yeah it has a star in the middle, bc they're burning (again lost an arm and a leg on the creativity). And you might notice that these beads are different, and that's bc I did this arrangement at home, where I had a greater variety available :)

My favourite part of the jacket, still. It's so simple and yet it just works. Again, I know that you've seen this before but I just wanted to show it outlined and coloured in :)

Now for the back:

Top to bottom: since my collar is usually down, I put the Watching Over Me mainly here for myself, but it's for good reason. This lyric really means a lot to me on a personal level and it's from the first MCR song I ever listened to (so it's double special), so no one but me (and you guys now haha) has to see it or know it's there, but I still wanted it to be included. Secondly: the Bad Idea back piece is done!!! Yaay!! And the roses don't look like colored in 8s anymore (double yay!!). I'll admit it looks pretty edgy (what about this jacket doesn't) but I really enjoyed painting it. I think I might have also done it out of spite for my 9th grade English teacher, who, after I had done a presentation abt MCR, told me:"Nice presentation. But Anna, all that blood and gore? Is that really necessary?" Yes, yes it is ma'am.

Lastly: the rest of the back. Yeah I kinda just went ham with the beads and pins, but it was fun (for the most part). Bottom to top: The 747 is finally colored in, bc of its position it's kinda reminiscent of an incomplete license plate but if you knew my history with this number, you'd agree that it makes this just that much more fitting.

Above it the Blind Channel beads, kind of as a summary of everything above them.

Then we have Balboa (why is there a heart bead? Bc Maxi had some lying around and I thought it looked pretty). I really like this song and I would give a lot for that skeleton Breakdowns for Breakfast t-shirt.

Above Balboa we have a part of glory for the greedy. No deeper reason for why it's here just 'mwah'. This was the first bead arrangement I sewed on btw and lemme tell you it was a struggle.

Talking about struggle we have the Don't Fix Me pin arrangement that made me want to throw myself into a river. I struggled so much with this but I ended up really liking it. Pink + edgy??? Fuck yeah, that's what I live for. I know the song itself is not everyone's favourite, but I've been listening to it on repeat ever since it came out so lol

Lastly we have the Left To Die beads (yes alive or only burning, again, that song has been living in my head rent free ever since I first listened to the album and not just bc of the jupiter line haha). When I first heard the chorus I was like 'huh' and then i thought about it some more and I was like 'hUH?!?', anywho needless to say this lyric hits me every single time (:

Soooo.... that's the jacket. Edgy, wonky and with a certain.... diy-charm.

Hope you enjoyed this journey and its outcome as much as I did.

Bonus: The diy saftey pin necklace (by me) and saftey pin earrings (by Maxi), that I'll probs wear at the concert. Alongside a Revenge bracelet that I wanted to sew onto the jacket but sadly didn't know where to put.

[slvtbible]

G O L D

chapter one

summary: [y/n is a young stripper who is adored by many men. harry styles is a man who loves to carry danger with him]

word count: 4222

pairing: stripper!y/n and gangleader!harry

warnings: violence, vulgar language, sexual acts, alcohol and drug

to be honest, i was a little hesitant to post it here and i don’t know if this story will blow up on tumblr or get many notes but that’s the last thing on my mind right now. i just want to share what i’ve been working on that kept you guys waiting for almost a year lol sorry about that. But yes, she’s finally here!! I posted first on wattpad before i put it here, I felt like the only way to reach out more people to read it it’s through that. And also, i decided to use a name on wattpad but I’d use the term ‘y/n’ on tumblr. Enjoy it all my loves! Give me feedbacks!💜

*

*

Harry fixes the collar of his sheer black shirt before tucking it neatly inside the black trousers he's currently wearing. He normally goes something more extravagant for going out. His closet is filled with colourful ruffles and Hawaiian shirts along with 'more than one colour' suits. However tonight, he needs to lay low for a bit. Especially when he's about to step into one of the most famous strip clubs in New York in an hour to meet up with the manager.

He's very much aware of the reputation he has put on himself out there. Though there's no use of camouflage and hiding, he still doesn't want a cause a scene,

Yet.

His hand lifts a bottle of Tom Ford from the dresser before spraying it twice on his neck. Stepping away from the full length mirror, he grabs his cross necklace from the bed before putting the accessory around his neck as he walks out of the room.

"Talk to me Reece" his heavy accent echoes the hallway as he walks downstairs, watching his few men pocketing their weapons,

Reece, the brown skinned man with tattoos nods. "He's there. Just got a word from Bianco. He appears isn't expecting you, Boss. However I do believe he knows you're coming soon. The club is far too crowded than usual but Bianco is taking care of that right now." He informs, showing him the message on the phone,

Harry can only scoff, nodding at him as a thank you. "That son of a bitch should've. Owes me more than fucking money." He mutters, inserting the .45 ACP inside his gun holster. "The car's ready?"

Nodding, Reece leads Harry down towards the basement. "As requested. Lamborghini Murcielago in blue hera. Pack with 640 PS and 471 kW, rules around 213 mph if you consider on hit and run. Still, I pack a standard Aeropack wing if you wanna go slow tonight. The windows? Bulletproof. In case anyone tries to kill you." Harry knows he's only joking about the last part. No one dares try to kill him before he does it. It's a pattern that everyone knows by now.

Harry lets out a low whistle, softly shaking his head as the machine beauty appears. Tracing lightly with his ring cladded fingers along the hood of the car. "Not planning to hit and run tonight, Reece. Not even thinking about racing down the street with my weapon outside the window. You don't have anything more. . . Less attractive?" He questions, still staring at the gorgeous car ahead of him,

"You know I don't do less, boss." Reece winks playfully, laughing to himself as he watches Harry roll his eyes. "Besides. Who knows you'll get yourself a bird tonight, eh? Take her out on a stroll before bringing her home to your place. Women love fast cars." He comments, pressing the button on the keys as the door opens,

Humming as a response, Harry walks towards the driver's seat, "I don't date anymore, thought my right hand man knew tha' " He speaks, words laced with seriousness while grabbing the keys from Reece's fingers,

He can only sigh and nod his head. "Understood. Yet, Kendra is like what? Two years ago? Gotta get yourself something better, boss. You deserve it. So do it tonight." He suggests, watching him going inside the car before shutting the door,

Harry smiles a bit, inserting the keys inside the ignition before starting the car. "Noted."

The dark haired man steps away from the car. Giving Harry a salute. "I'll be right behind you. See you there."

*

*

*

Y/N Y/L/N stands in front of the mirror as she applies another layer of red lipstick on her plump lips. Securing the tube back as she puckers her mouth to see if it fits the colour for tonight. She twirls, watching carefully how the gold lingerie clads perfectly around her breasts and down to her curvy hips and thick thighs.

She stops once her plump ass is facing the mirror, admiring how beautiful and big her bum is in the lingerie. It's a compliment really. She loves working out to give her bum a bit bigger. It's not that she hopes she'll gain attention from people, she just loves her body. She worships every piece of it despite what other people think of it. Insecurity was her biggest enemy but not anymore. After reading lots of books and poems about self love she learns that there's nothing she should be ashamed of.

Grabbing a bottle of lotion from her table, she squeezes the bottle into her hand before rubbing her bum with the cold cream, rubbing it neatly to make sure she doesn't miss a spot.

Another thing, she loves moisturizing her plump flesh before the show. It's sexy

"Joe is asking for you." She hears a voice coming from behind, craning her neck to see her closest co-worker Violet, already in her usual purple wig and attire as she stands beside Angelina. "I love working as a stripper but he really needs to learn to be patient and. . . shut up, i guess?"

Y/N releases a small laugh, moving her long dark wavy hair to rest on her chest. "I know, I know. Jesus, I've told him fifteen minutes prior that I'll take longer than usual." She slips on her gold heels and turns to face Violet, who's biting her lip as she stares at Angelina's body up and down. "Okay, how do i look?"

Violet raises her eyebrow, as if it's something her friend shouldn't be asking. "You kidding? You look like a sex goddess. Gonna get all the men on their knees for you, girl"

Scoffing, she shoots her a wink and a flirtatious smile. "Old men with beer bellies? No thanks. I'd rather make out with Gordon." She replies, seemingly disgusted about the thought of grinding on an old man's lap tonight.

"Is that a bet I hear?" Violet questions, leaning towards her a bit as she waits for her friend’s response. "Please tell me that it is so I can earn extra cash tonight."

Gordon is a perverted bartender that always keeps his eye on Y/N throughout her routine. He's 40 and is always asking Angelina on a 'date' and by date, he means her ass on his lap. Clearly something Y/N isn't too fond of. Him specifically. Violet and Y/N have always made a joke about him, something they could make a playful banter in every chance they get.

Plus, she heard he's married. Isn't he supposed to find another job rather than here? If his wife found out what kind of a sleaze bag she married, she would be crushed,

Rolling her eyes, Y/N shoves her playfully by the arm. "Ha ha, very funny" she answers, resuming to untangle her hair from knots.

Violet laughs, pinching her on the hip as she lets outa small squeal. "Just messing with you, baby. Good luck out there. Put the rest of us to shame tonight. . . Like any other night"

Y/N flips her off, yet knowing it's the truth. She's not trying to sound like a condescending bitch here but none of the girls here are actually capable to do what Y/N does. That's what makes men attracted to her. She knows what she's doing. She knows how to make a man hard.

"By the way, you heard what Joe's talking about earlier?" Violet asks, toeing off her heels as she exhales a relief sigh. "Damn those heels are killing me" She mumbles,

"No... What's about?" She turns her head to face Violet for her to explain, causing her to shrug her shoulders,

"Don't know much about it. . . But i hear Harry Styles is coming here to meet up with him. Something about transaction or shit" She waves it off, whispering it to Y/N, looking around to make sure no one is eavesdropping,

She almost chokes on her saliva after hearing Violet says the name. "Harry Styles?! The. . . mafia boss of New York..?" Her eyes widen at the possibility of the most dangerous man in the city paying a visit to the place she works at,

Nodding, Violet answers, "Yup. That Harry Styles. He's the devil. Let's hope this place doesn't turn into a war zone."

Y/N has heard about this Harry guy. The most feared man of New York. She does know a little bit of the relations between Joe and Mr. Styles. Almost every night she could hear Joe freaking out about this man. She may not know him that close, hell she had never even met him in person but people talk. One thing she learned about hearing his reputation, you don't ever want to mess with this guy.

Violet snaps her fingers to snap Y/N out of her thoughts. "Less worrying, girl. Come on, you got a show to put on yes?"

"Y-yeah. Fuck. . . now i'm scared" She breathes out, looking at her reflection in the mirror one last time. Calming down her mind.

After giving Violet a kiss on a cheek and receiving a tap on her ass, she takes a deep breath as she opens the beaded curtain and walk out to the club. Jhene Aiko is playing through the speakers, thanks to her who chose the music for tonight. She can already feel all eyes on her as she struts down confidently, putting on a smirk and winking at couple of men here and there. As much as it disgusts her, she grazes her hand along a man's arm who's biting his lip and looking at her up and down.

'What the fuck did i do to deserve this?' she thinks to herself, staring at the man in front of her who's probably the same age as her father. The thought of it makes her gag,

She gives the man a wink before getting up on the stage, hearing a few hollers from behind. reaching out to wrap her hand around the silver pole and her leg hooking up to support her body. Slowly twirling with her head thrown back and closes her eyes with money being toss at her direction before letting go and crutching down on her knees, moving close towards the same man earlier. He slips in a couple of hundred dollar bills inside her panties, causing the others to do the same.

This may be not how she pictures her success but damn, by the end of the week, her bank account can go from three to six digits.

She's definitely gonna hold on to that,

*

*

*

It takes Harry close to thirty minutes to get here. He blames it all on the traffic, cursing to himself every time he stops at red lights. He parks his car close to the entry before he exits from the vehicle. He looks over his shoulder to find a familiar black car driving towards her, noting to himself it's Reece's. Seeing him wave his hand to make sure he's coming in later.

He clears his throat, clenching his jaw as he walks into the club. Reece wasn't lying, the club is too packed for tonight. As if God knew what is about to get down tonight and isn't going to let him get away with witnesses. He really needs to play safe for a while tonight.

As he strides through the room to find a table he has reserved for, a few half naked girls walk right pass him, stroking his exposed chest and grabbing his shoulders. Most of them are gorgeous and he's tempted to touch their soft skin yet he has to hold it. Not that he isn't interested because he's definitely taking someone back to his place tonight--fucking Reece had to be right-- but he needs to get his head in the game for at least an hour before planning to do so.

Gently, he pulls back a chair for him to sit. He specifically asks for the furthest table so no one can figure out what he's about to do tonight. A glass of whiskey has been set on his table before he got here, waiting for Joe's arrival. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Reece and Bianco walking over to his table. One of them gives him a nod to acknowledge his presence.

Harry lifts the glass up to his lips and take a sip of it. Honestly, he hates doing all of this dirty work. Sure, he's the boss. But he despises complicated things. He should've known not to trust Joe about anything, yet when he begged on his knees with a gun knocked against his head as he spat out a bunch of threats to the weakened man, he thought why not? If Joe didn't get to fulfill his demands, he gets to kill him either way. It's always a pleasure for him to do so.

"Mr. Styles! Ay, i'm so happy to see you. You look a lot cleaner than i saw you the last time, eh?" Joe's voice causes Harry's green eyes averts from the scene on the crowd. His eyebrows are knitted, jaw tightened as he taps his fingers against the table, causing the rings he's wearing to knock.

He owes him money worth $50,000. And this man had the nerve to walk in and act like nothing happened.

He is definitely going to kill him.

"Stop with all that shit and sit the fuck down. You owe me something Joe." Harry warns, pointing at him as Harry's men forces the dark haired male to sit down making him gulp. "You owe me 50 grand for that package you piece of shit."

Joe couldn't feel more terrified as he catches a glimpse of Harry's gun on the table, facing towards him. "I know Harry, I know. I didn't forget, okay? It's just the money is tight right now. The girls aren't getting the amount of money they used to be getting." Joe tries to reason but Harry isn't having any of it,

"Stop being a fucking pussy and blame your girls for the money you've lost. I'm running out of patience here, Joe. If you don't give me the money by the end of the week, you're a dead man. I still have one body bag left in my car and I wouldn't mind writing your name on it." Harry grits his teeth, looking at him with a dark look in his eyes. Hand gripping tightly around the glass

"No man, I need more than that. Please, I'll do whatever you ask me to. You will have your money man I promised." Joe begs, looking at Harry with hopeful eyes.

Harry finds it quite disgusting to see someone like him beg for mercy-- for the second time--or anything at all to be honest. He find that gesture is weak and vulnerable which makes him very easy to manipulate over. "I don't give out second chances."

Joe hears a gun clicks behind, he doesn't need to know what's going on. He knows one of the two men behind him is ready to blow his brains out. "Harry man. . . One more. . . Give me one more"

Harry isn't a patient man. He doesn't want people beg. He doesn't want him to beg. But he finds it interesting to see how it goes, playing along this little game of his.

"Fine. you give me your best girl and i'll give you two months." Harry offers, cocking his eyebrow as he leans back to relax himself. "No more than that."

Joe's eyes widen at Harry's demand. It's impossible to collect a 50 grand in two months, especially when he's short on it. He needs more than that. Still, he thinks two months is better than nothing. "Okay. . . Agreed. Just tell me which girl you want or-or i could bring one or two here, man. Take your pick."

Harry can only hum in response, scanning his eyes over the scene. Dozens of girls dancing on stage, few of them even has their bras taken off. It seems to him, none of these girls on the room is his type.

Until his green eyes fall on a certain slightly curvy woman with her leg wrapped around the pole.

Her long dark hair brushing lightly against the floor as she bend her back a bit. He observes the way her body move so dirty yet gracefully around the pole,  the way she bites onto her pink glossed lips and how her brown eyes manage to flirt with the crowd and had them lure into her eyes including himself. He swears this girl just steps out of his daydreams. She looks perfect.

He admires how she circle her hips painfully slow, jealous how he isn't close enough to watch her plump flesh near his strong figure.

"Her. I want her" Harry points at the girl he can't take his eyes off. His voice sounds too possessive but he doesn't care if he does. He's too enhanced with the way she moves on that stage and he loves how she swats those dirty hands who seems desperate to cope a feel with a dirty look on her face.

'Seems like a fighter' he thinks to himself

"Y/N? You want her?" Joe asks after he realises who Harry's pointing at.

"Y/N? That's a gorgeous name. She's not taken is she? Not that i care anyway. She's a dime from what i can see here." He says, not tearing his eyes off of her while he sips on his drink. "You're gonna give me her to me aren't you?" Harry asks, his eyes are threatening enough for Joe so he nods his head as a response.

"Yes. Of course. If that's what you want."

"Fuck yes i do. Bring me to one of your rooms. I want a private from her" He demands before gulping down his drink, standing up to head over to the back. Not before glancing at the gorgeous woman one last time who stuffs a few dollar bills in her panties.

*

*

After what it feels like forever dancing on stage and have men whistling at her to go over and give them more, she finally sit herself down on a chair in her dressing room and take a deep breath. Moaning in relief as she pulls her heels off while setting her timer on because she only has thirty minutes to rest before going back out there again. She leans back against the chair, sighing in a pure bliss.

She can hear a few girls talking and laughing while preparing themselves for their performance tonight, wishing she could just join in because Violet informs her earlier there's some juicy gossip she needs to talk about but she cant take it. She's too tired.

She has only closes her eyes for 10 minutes until a familiar voice speaks out,

"Where's Y/N?"

She groans internally. Can never mistake that voice soon as she hears it. Her manager, who sounds like he's panting, voice firm as if is an emergency to call her out like that. Y/N still has her eyes shut as she raises her hand up, not having the energy to respond.

"Okay, good. Y/N. You don't need to go back out there again. There's a special guest I need you to entertain. He's already waiting in the red room."

She nods and hum, only to realize what he means as her eyes bugs out.

Wait, what?

She's quick to turn around, brows furrows and mouth hangs open, not believing what she has just heard. "Pardon?"

"There's a man. A guy who I work with, waiting in one of the rooms. He specifically asked for you. I need you to at least give him an hour." Joe notifies, running his hand over his face as if he's stressed about something,

"You want me to give a lap dance to your co-worker?" She raises her eyebrow, not believing what he just asked her

Joe sighs angrily, "it's technically not--Y/N... please. No more questions, just go over there."

"Who's the guy?" she ignores his orders as she stands, crossing her arms across her chest. "Jesus, fuck. I really need my hair to breath" she mutters, brushing down her long dark brown hair,

"Harry Styles."

Y/N freezes in an instant. Looking up to stare at Joe in the eye to see if he's joking, he can only nod his head to confirm her questioning look. " you're shitting me."

"I'm not," Joe replies, walking over to her, not wanting the other girls to hear. "Y/N, I owe him money. I haven't got them yet and--"

She scoffs, rolling her eyes and continue messing with her hair a bit more. "Not my problem."

He reaches out to grab her elbow, pulling her harshly causing her to stumble a bit. "Y/N, please... He wanted to kill me out there earlier. The guy brought a gun for God's sake. He gave me a month but until then... he wants you."

"You know i'm not a hooker" Y/N defeatedly sighs. She wants to help him, she does but it sounds like he's selling her off for a month to this notorious and dangerous guy who is named to be the deadliest man alive by the people of New York.

She loves money but no fucking way she's willing to die for it.

"I didn't say you were" He roughly says, hand gripping tightly on her arm. "Just... do it" He let her go, tired of the waiting because he doesn't want to make Harry pissed off now,

The girl sighs angrily, squeezing her eyes shut as she hesitates for a while. What the fuck did she get herself into?

"Fine. just give me a moment."

Giving her a smile, Joe thanks her by giving her a kiss on the cheek, telling her the door number Harry is in before walking out of the room. Soon after he walks out, she feels sick in her stomach. How could she ever go face to face with a man with blood in his hands? She's about to give this man a lap dance. Who knew he might've ask for more?

So now, as she finishes re-applying a layer of red lipstick, she heads out. Walking to the back of the room in a slow pace. Heart beating loud and fast as she's about to come face to face with this man. Still, she needs to play it cool. God really fucking hates her,

If he really does exists.

She takes a deep breath before opening the brown door carefully, pushing it open. Her knees almost buckle at the sight of Harry Styles, lounging on the leather couch. A cigarette squeeze between his fingers. legs spread open as if it's an invitation already made for her. His head turns towards the door, a smirk graces upon his face.

She's not going to lie. He is indeed dashingly handsome. With his arms resting on the back of the couch making his biceps look a bit bigger. He's got killer looks too. she studies. Sexy smile, and stubble which creates a sexier look on his face. She catches a glimpse of a silver cross necklace resting against his broad chest. His eyes are sharp. Looking at her up and down with his bottom lip bitten between his teeth.

"My, my" he lowly whistles, watching her every move as she enters the room. Locking the door behind her. "I wasn't wrong. You are a fucking dime."

Y/N giggles-- though feeling scared shitless-- and run her hands over her hair as she struts her way towards his figure. Purposely swaying her ass side to side a bit to tease him. "Mr.Harry Styles. . . I heard a lot about you. Word on the street is that you're a man that likes to carry a danger" she smirks seductively as she stands in between his open legs, dragging her finger slowly down her chest.

Her angelic voice is like music to his ears,

"Yeah?" he smirks, eyes falling to the curve of her breasts. "Hope that doesn't scare you, doll. All i want is a dance from you, that's all. I also heard that you are their favourite girl. After seeing you danced on that stage, I now know why."

Again, she giggles. A small blush creeping on her cheeks, hopefully he doesn't see it. "You're a flirt aren't you, Harry? You do this to every girl?"

He places his hands slowly on her plump ass, he doesn't know if he's allowed to touch but he doesn't give a shit. She seems isn't bothered by it. He wants this girl and he wants her now.

"Only to those who i find interesting, baby. Now, are you going to show me what you got?" He asks, looking up to meet her brown eyes as he squeezes her flesh.

With a devilish smirk, she slowly sets herself down on his lap which causes him to let out a soft groan. She runs her hands down to his tattooed chest and toys with his cross necklace for a bit before whispering in his ear, "sit tight and relax, Mr. Styles. I'll be your good girl for tonight"

next chapter

*

i really don’t want to write a super long chapter, because i’m afraid it’ll bore you guys so maybe--i hope-- this is enough. anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this first chapter, let me know if you guys hate it or love it! I’ll appreciate it. love you guys!

[silent-stalker]

*PING*

New Message from Whirl - 1 Video File Attached

A shaky view of a crystallike open field with glimmering trees is what will first greet Soundwave. There's unintelligible talking in the back, and then Whirl's loud voice of course announcing something.

" Sounders, look at this-" and the camera swivels up to a closer tree, angling and focusing on a bright green object that as it focuses on turns out to be a shimmering green bird that looks like it's made out of crystals.

"It's a fraggin' bird! Made of Crystals! That's like two things that you like- pfft. Unless I'm wrong of course and you're just humoring Laserbeak, anyway. Don't murder me , Rodimus decided the whole lot of us should go somehwere a bit more peaceful and try not to destroy anything. So we're on a planet of wild geobirds. Thought I'd show you some of these since I figured you might like this." Whirl's voice has an underlined layer of amusement and joy, based on that it seemed Whirl was quite happy to be out of the ship and somehwere else. He moves the camera to different birds of all shapes, shades of colours and sizes, commenting on a few on with some utterly nonsensical comparisons.

The camera then focuses on a deep black bird that could be sworn to be a phoenix almost, that shimmered purple. There's a pause from Whirl, before he laughs.

"Oh, nevermind! You're already here! I can tell that uptight grumpy little face from miles awa-"

There's a metallic screech as the video just about manages to capture said dark Phoenix lunging at Whirl with a screech and outstretched claws, video cutting off halfway through Whirl's shout.

New Message:

Few minutes later another video comes, and it opens with Whirl now in view.. helm somewhat scratched up, but he seems to be still in a good mood.

"Pfft, definitely was you- word of advice should you decide to visit here, don't talk smack about the birds and don't try and take one like Rodimus did. Mech's gonna need a new paintjob." He's hesitating again, unsure again what his point of sending this was.

"...Right, eh. No problem with taking rocks though, if you're curious, may have snagged a few for myself, hehehe. I'll send you the planet's coordinates if you want 'em. We're packing up to go elsewhere already, so I'll see ya on the other side!"

End of Video.

The ping startled him, he won't lie. Having an emotional crisis in the safety of his living quarters, the sound echoes in the room. It takes Soundwave only a minute to open the message and play the video.

By the end of it, he's taken several screen captures - and he will not acknowledge the weird-fuzzy-warm feeling of most of those captures being of Whirl, and only a few are of the crystalline birds. It only distracts him from his current mood - but its a welcome distraction.

And one he'll admit to watching more than once, if only for the part where the dark bird attacks Whirl. He might send that one part back, although remixed and with added effects.

....with an attached note of thanks - and an only half-joking offer to take Whirl back there for revenge on his attcker.

[grimoire-of-seven]

I have a crush on you

PROMPT :: “I have a crush on you..”

Rating: SFW

Words: 350-450 per character

Characters: Demon brothers + MC/Gender-Neutral Reader

Note: Thank you for the request! Although you didn’t specify which character, I took it upon myself to write for all of the demon brothers! It’s a little long so please continue reading under the cut!

LUCIFER

You stood your ground before him, eyes determined to express all these pent up emotions into words. When you arrived at the student council office, Lucifer was busy with several of the student council papers but insisted that he is listening to you.

“Lucifer,” You called out to the black-haired demon infront of you, hands clutching your Devildom Law book for courage, “I have a crush on you.”

“Hmm, yes,” He nodded his head almost automatically, his focus towards the papers unwavering, “You can put your term paper draft on my desk. I shall attend to that shortly after I finish this–”

“I said, ‘I have a crush on you’, Lucifer.” You repeated with a louder and much more resolute voice.

With that, his hands stopped mid-way through putting down one of the stacks. He directed his attention towards you, there was no semblance of an expression in his visage aside from its usual stoicism.

After that one second of shock, Lucifer then smiled at you with… was that pity or sadness in his– “…take that away.”

You gasped his statement, appalled that he dares to tell you how to deal with your feelings. You finally gathered the courage to tell him and he’s telling you to ‘take it away’?!

Within an instant, you made your way to his table and slammed your hand at his desk, “Now, listen here, you little shi–”

Wha-?!

He pulled your necktie with enough force that had you reeling towards him, the tips of your noses barely missing a millimeter.

“I’m just teasing.” He chuckled in delight, those piercing dark eyes staring at yours with such intensity that made your knees weak like jelly. “Time and time again, you amaze me with your honesty.”

Goosebumps trailed your arms as Lucifer’s hand caressed your cheek delicately. If he comes any closer, you’re most certain that he’ll hear the embarrassingly fast beating of your heart. “I like that.”

 MAMMON

“Plus four!” Mammon exclaimed in glee, slamming the card in the low coffee table. Before reaching to the deck for four more cards, the white-haired demon stopped you in your tracks and placed yet another identical card, “Another plus four! I change the cards to blue!”

“You can’t stack plus four cards! UNO tweeted that before–”

“We’re using local rules here, dummy, get with the program!” He smugly replied, smirking at you as you reach for eight cards. “Taste my reverse card!”

“Yikes,” You sighed at his beaming energy of mischief, placing a blue card down, “You sure play dirty…”

“I get to ask ya one truth or a dare if I win!” Mammon nodded eagerly at your words as if it’s a compliment to him. He removed another blue card from his deck and exclaimed, “UNO!”

“Greedy… you’re too greedy for victory.” You changed the colour of the cards to yellow in high hopes that his last card isn’t the same.

Please don’t be yellow–

“Got’cha!” Damn.

“Truth or dare?” He asked excitedly with the energy of a toddler on a sugar-high.

He would definitely ask something very private and embarrassing if you chose truth, given that he’s animatedly eager to get you to lose this round. With that in mind, you chose the lesser evil, “Dare.”

“I dare you to tell the truth!”

This stupid idiot… You sighed and nodded, “Fine. But give me the cards, I’ll shuffle it this time.”

“Who are you interested among the seven of us brothers?”

Ah, so that’s what this is. You chuckled, his earlier demeanor making much more sense with his ‘dare’. “No wonder you’re pumped up when I said we should higher the stakes.”

“Ya didn’t wanna bet money!”

“It’s an UNO game, man.”

“So, who is it?” He asked, leaning back to his sofa with crossed-arms as he waited for you to hand him his set of cards, “Maybe if you slide in some cash, I can help you get–”

“He’s quite cute.” You began, taking a card as a starter and waiting for Mammon to put down his first.

“Oh? So that counts out Asmo since he’d beautiful!”

“He makes me laugh a lot.” You smiled, “Reverse card, reverse card, plus four, change colour to yellow.”

“GAH! I don’t have any yellow!!!” Mammon twisted from his seat at the realization of his misfortune, seeing that you only have three cards remaining in your hand. “That can’t be Levi or Lucifer or Satan! Those guys would choke if they’re asked to share a joke. So, it’s either Beel or Belphie, huh!”

You shook your head at his words, placing down another card, “I have a crush on you, Mammon.”

“Wh–” He looked up at you with wide-eyes, “No! Q-Quit playin’ dirty! I ain’t fallin’ for that.”

“Reverse card, UNO,” You stared back at him, eyes never leaving his as you placed your last cards, “I win.”

LEVIATHAN

What does Ruri-chan have that you don’t?

Dejectedly wiping the said figurine with a damp towel, you asked that question to yourself.

You were summoned at Levi’s room earlier that day for some ‘important friend training’ to be facilitated by the purple-haired demon himself… only to find out that he’s cleaning his figures and needed a few more hands on deck.

Why does he like Ruri-chan so much? She’s a fictional character, for god’s sake!

“Hey, Levi,” You started, looking up from your task, “If I say I have a crush on you, what would you do?”

The man in question stared at you for a moment before erupting into a boisterous laughter. “LMFAO,” he spelled in glee, hands waving off your statement as if it’s a mere jest, “That’s the funniest joke I have ever heard from you in a long while lolol.”

“Take this seriously, Levi!” You wrung the damp towel in annoyance and weaponized it against your companion, hitting him by the leg with enough force to have him yelp in pain.

“OW, TF you doing? That hurts!” He rubbed his leg in attempt to stave off the stinging feeling, only to realize your reaction to his answer, “Wait, that wasn’t a joke?”

“Do I look like-?!”

“WTF!? That’s a horrible decision!” Levi exclaimed in disbelief, his eyes scanning your expression for some sort of… mischief in your eyes or a slightly wolfish grin.

But all he saw was that you were genuinely serious - about him and your feelings for him.  

“Why?” He breathed out the question, his head thinking of the times when you must’ve raised his intimacy close enough for you to drop that confession bomb on him, “Compared to Lucifer and Asmo, I’m not even the most handsome or popular character in this–”

“We’re not in a game.”

Levi went silent at your words.

Have you done it? Is this finally friendship over?

Panic began rising up your chest as he sat still, unmoving from his position. Before you can speak, he looked at you with a hopeful spark in his expression, “Then… does that mean I can like the main character, too?”

SATAN

Satan had offered to walk home with you together after hearing that Solomon is graciously tutoring you for certain RAD subjects – those that doesn’t exist in the human world. The blonde demon insisted that he doesn’t mind waiting for you given that there are still some things he has to do for the student council.

‘It sounds like an after-school date’, Solomon grinned at you before leaving. You swear, he’s got some sort of voodoo magic radar for your emotions.

Removing the thought of Solomon’s jests before you blush too hard, you thought of confessing to Satan before a certain someone runs his mouth about it. Should you…?

Yeah, it’s better to hear it from you than someone else – namely Solomon.

“Hey, Satan, I have a crush on you.” You told him, as casually as you can without breaking voice.

He stopped in his tracks, looking at you with disbelief. Satan opened his mouth to speak but stopped, taking a moment to think about his words, then simply asked, “Why…?”

Eh? “W-What do you mean ‘why’?”

You couldn’t really answer that. You’ve asked yourself a hundred times why you fell for a demon, the actual personification of Wrath itself, yet you can’t seem to find an answer for yourself. At least, you had no answers aside from… “I just really like you, Satan.”

He continued walking, you can feel the gears of his head turning as he oversees the situation in its logical perspective, “I’m a demon and you’re a human, need I remind you?”

That felt a pang on your chest, hearing him say it even though you are well aware of the fact.

Taking a deep breath to muster up the courage, you asked him for his final verdict, “So, you’re saying you don’t like me back?”

“Yes–!” He answered automatically, but then almost immediately denied, “Well, no.”

Huh. That’s quite confusing.

“I like you, too,” Satan smiled at you for a moment, “But things will be complicated if we think about this logically.”

Scratching the back of your head at his words, you couldn’t help yourself in saying, “When did love become a logical thing, though?”

He blushed at your words, hastening his walking speed to stop you from further seeing his reddened face, “S-Stop being too c-cute! I’m not lending you any more romance novels if you keep being so adorable!”

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus held your hand as if it was the most fragile thing in the world. With great precision, he coated your nails with an even layer of nail polish to match his wonderfully manicured ones.

People adore Asmodeus’ natural charm. What can you say? He’s absolutely flawless and drop-dead gorgeous.

Just thinking about the way his eyes sparkle at the news of Jeffrey Star’s new palette collection. The way he speaks excitedly whenever Prada presents their new line of designer bags. Hell, even talking about hand cream is a treat in itself whenever Asmodeus does it.

Look at you, absolutely whipped for this man and his undeniable charm.

He insists that you’re immune to his beauty yet you’re still attracted to him. It’s unfair to be this handsomely beautiful.

“Asmo, I think I have a crush on you.” You spouted out randomly, feeling his soft warm hands against yours.

“Of course, you do~” He replies as a matter-of-factly, “Everyone lusts over my magnificent–”

“I’m serious, Asmo.” You cut him off from his usual sugar-sweet line, “I like you.”

“Alright, humour me, love,” He put aside the nail polish and intertwined his hands in yours, his face closing towards yours dangerously, “If I accept your confession and we become a couple, what would you like to do with me…?”

With heated cheeks, you opened your mouth to speak but he sensually placed an index finger by your lips, he whispered with that hedonistic tone of his, “In private, that is…”

In private?! Gosh, he’s asking for a lot!

Suddenly feeling parched, you gulp at the thought of what you wanted out of him if he ever accepts you as a partner. Eyes flitting anywhere except towards his, you tried your best to hold your trembling body before him - backing down now might show your lack of conviction towards him, after all.

You mumbled softly, hoping that he can hear you through your closeness, “…ds with you.”

“Tsk tsk,” The peach-haired demon grinned as he clicked his tongue, “I can’t hear you with such a silent voice. You can do better than that~”

“M-Maybe hold h-hands with you… or c-cuddle if y-you want.” You repeated a bit more audibly, your blush deepening by the second, “I-It’d be fun to go o-on a café w-with just the two of us, too.”

“KYAAA~! That’s so wholesome and adorable!!!” Asmodeus squealed in delight at your answer, throwing himself at you in a tight embrace, “Alright, I’ll be your boyfriend and we’ll do all those together~! This is so exciting!”

“No!!! Asmo, my nails!”

BEELZEBUB

From whatever ‘reliable’ and expensive source you’ve heard [definitely not Mammon], Beel apparently loves a certain sandwich menu from Hell’s Kitchen. Unfamiliar with Devildom’s cuisine and Hell’s Kitchen’s menu, you were faced with a dilemma.

The question would be… which one of the three sandwiches in the menu he likes most?

This frustrating situation made you want to curse Mammon for scamming your 100Grimm with this useless piece of information. Sighing at the thought of having to buy all three just for good measure, you saw the Avatar of Gluttony himself walking pass the restaurant.

“Beel!” You exclaimed to get his attention, waving at the tall ginger-haired demon as he looked towards your general direction, “I have a question for you!”

He greeted you with that heart-melting smile of his, eager to answer any inquiries from you. You whisked him away from the street and into the shop, asking, “Which of the sandwiches in the menu do you like most?”

“What for?”

“Just answer the question, please~”

“The one with the tartare and cheese…” He replied, eyes dreamy at the menu board, most possibly captivated by the memory of having such a treat. Beel snapped from his reverie, explaining to you why it’s his most favoured, “It’s like your human food ‘cheeseburger’!”

You nodded and ordered the exact sandwich for him, much to his surprise.

It’s like a date! You inwardly screamed, mentally giving yourself a high-five for taking advantage of this sweet opportunity.

“Let’s split up the sandwich, as thank you for buying me food…”

How sweet! The thought made you want to curl up in the floor and cry in happiness, but resisted, “Come on, let me treat you once in a while!”

You both took a seat on the less conspicuous booths of the store. As Beel ate with glee, you chatted him up, content at the moment both of you were sharing.

“Why’d you *munch* even buy me food?”

“I like you!” You answered without a sliver of a doubt, carried too much at the connection you were sharing at the time. Blinking once… twice, you realized what you’ve done.

Well, fu–

“This food sure is great,” Beel avoided looking at you and continued eating, his face noticeably red from his blushing cheeks.

Groaning in defeat, you buried your face in your hands. It’d be rude to suddenly take back what you’ve said. Stupid me, stupid, stupid–

“I thought I’m hearing things because I’m still hungry.” The ginger-haired demon explained, his hands taking yours and peeling them off from your heated face, “You’re like this sandwich, you know that?”

“W-What…?”

“It’s my favourite, just as you’re my favourite person to be with!”

BELPHEGOR

You stared at Belphegor’s sleeping face, so peaceful and at ease.

It’s hard to think of him as a demon when he’s especially languid like this.

He had invited you to watch a movie that Levi suggested, only to doze off within fifteen minutes of the production, his head perfectly placed by your lap. Deciding that the Avatar of Sloth would rather sleep than watch, you let him sleep to his heart’s content.

The moment the movie ended, you didn’t notice that your lap had fallen asleep with him. Great.

You poked his cheek, seeing if he’ll wake up. “Belphie~” You cooed, “Belphie, wake up… My thighs has fallen asleep with you~”

“Fiv.. m’nutes…” He stirred, making himself much more comfortable on your lap and on the sofa.

“What am I gonna do with you?” You sighed in affection, smiling at his sleeping visage. Similar to Belphegor, you also made yourself comfortable on the sofa despite the stinging feeling by your thighs, “Alright, five more minutes, but only because I like you.”

To your surprise, Belphie spoke again, “Say that again.”

“I said you can have five more minutes, Belphie.”

“No, the second part…”

He heard that?!

You gulped, eyes avoiding his as you slowly repeated, “B-B… Because I like you.”

The raven-haired demon closed his eyes once, turning away from you, “I must be dreaming.” And within seconds, he has fallen asleep again just like that.

“No, Belphie, don’t sleep!” You stood up at his reaction to such an important confession, only to remember that he was formerly sleeping on your lap.

WHOOPS.

“Ow,” He rubbed his head after being unceremoniously thrown out of the sofa, sitting up groggily from all of the commotion, “Okay, so it’s not a dream.”

You sat beside him on the floor and rubbed his head as well, apologizing for it, “Why would think that, though?”

He looked away with a blush, “Because it’s too good to be true…”

[vaguely-concerned]

The Mandalorian Chapter 11; the rewatch edition

I have found a bit more enthusiasm for this one on the rewatch, so here goes!

- din snapping ‘I’m trying my best here!’ in a vaguely annoyed tone as his entire ship is going up in flames around him because he mostly doesn’t get angry as much as sulky... the height of cinema 

- I love frog husband’s clothes, because they’re in a very similar style and colour scheme to frog lady’s but also incorporate the knitwear we see on the people of trask, so it both underlines his belonging with her and implies that he’s been on this moon for quite a while, they may have been apart for some time  

especially his scarf is a darling detail and there’s a bit of contrast in texture to it next to his wife’s, it’s nice. he’s wearing a similar kind of vest to what we see on the fishermen later, too 

- I think my favourite part of this entire episode (well second after din cradling the baby against him after nearly drowning) is just the design and Vibe of the planet and especially this harbour

for one I LOVE that it’s shown that even in the middle of the day it’s dark enough that the electric lights are still on when it’s overcast (it reminds me a bit of norway during the winter, actually, when dawn just never quite breaks and then slinks off in embarrassment before it’s even noon). and there’s also the... sails? nets? hanging around looking almost like flags, which are very Aesthetic but god knows what they’re for. maybe for drying fish on in the summer? 

I think the building in the distance behind frog husband’s back here is a lighthouse? or it could be one of those towers for loading you see when they scout out the empire ship too, I suppose!

and one for my strange obsession with Texture on this show: these fabric-covered crates!!! they look exactly as dingy and moldy as you’d expect them to be in this climate, I wonder what they’re for (& I vaguely want to touch them) 

- from the sound of it din’s vibroknife is uh ‘on’ when he pokes the squid thing, and he also goes for the tentacle the furthest away from the baby <3

proof the calamari flan have been scratched up a bit during all that time in din’s pockets! (the attention to detail in this show sometimes istg) 

- this is 100% me reading too much into things again, call the overthinking police I’ll do my time meekly lol, but the boat looks a little bit like the mudhorn signet from this angle: 

again din keeps his hand on or sooo close to his blaster in this entire scene, he knows this is sketch as all hell 

a) once again I want to praise the effects team for how GOOD the aliens look in this episode holy shit and b) the hell is this dude wearing on the straps of his overalls tho 

- the dude mando (axe woves) uses his little... wrist launcher thing to shoot with to finish two off the fishermen, so my theory that they can be loaded with other things than the whistling birds for slightly less effective use (maybe without the level of honing we’ve seen din’s be able to do?) is looking good!

- din actually has quite good form when diving into the water, I’m guessing he can swim at least tolerably when not in full armour, being stabbed at from all directions, having just had his son eaten by a sea monster and also being trapped in with said sea monster (I’m a strong swimmer and I can tell you that there’s a reason they make you swim with clothes on from time to time to see how hard it is, it sucks. with metal plates strapped all over you as well? yeah good luck) people don’t tend to hit the water that gracefully without some kind of training in my experience lol. might be some of the training with the jet pack has carried over too, considering he throws himself off that cliff in chapter 12 with similar confidence?

it’s interesting that they’re once again showing us a threat where the armour doesn’t help and even hinders him. we’re so used to the ways it can make him near-invincible, but it can also drag him down (literally, in this case. aha ha ha. well if I’m not here for my own entertainment then what am I here for honestly)

- din’s voice sounding like he’s just on the verge of crying as he cradles the baby (and the sound he makes as he realizes the baby’s alive) is my kryptonite, turns out. fucking breaks my heart into tiny pieces every time, I would die for this man and he wouldn’t let me

- in support of din’s paranoia: so far this season we haven’t been able to go five minutes without someone talking about peeling the precious beskar off a mandalorian corpse, I can see why his mind was primed to move in one particular way there

- I think the fabric of din’s cape has been treated with something that makes it waterproof; the water seems to pearl on top of it rather than soak in! can you imagine how heavy it would get if it did absorb water tho christ

(a bit hard to see at this size but that’s what it looked like to me close up anyway! could also be that it’s wool and that’s why it looks that way but I prefer an elaborate sci-fi explanation here, because it doesn’t look particularly weighed down afterwards) might also explain why he doesn’t seem worried about it catching on fire when he uses the jetpack haha, maybe this is something the mandos do with fabric they’re going to use for a long time 

I also enjoy part of the gambeson/undersuit thing poking up from under the shoulder pauldron and cape; I think this is about as disheveled as we’ve seen him since immediately post-mudhorn 

- the sound mixing in this scene, where din’s breathing is layered a bit over everything else so you almost feel like you’re in the helmet with him listening to what the others are saying........ oh my GOD, it embeds you so deeply in his POV but so subtly 

- not to be biased or anything... but din and the armorer’s armour design is so vastly superior to these guys it shouldn’t even be a competition lol 

din looks like an honest to god knight in shining armour except also sci-fi western and the armorer looks like a fucking war goddess from a time beyond memory; the clone wars mandos look like high end cosplayers (eh maybe it’s just my dislike for the boobplates that has me so 😒 lol. also a lot of dudes were very shitty about that whole thing and I don’t say anything but the ‘vaguely-concerned will remember this’ telltale message pops up in the corner every time) 

moment of saltiness over: I do like the differentiation between their individual character designs 

the differences in body type and helmet design is nice! they look like a unified team, but with individuality. I suspect the ladies have those belts and their armour plates on the hips instead of the front of the thighs to emphasize the ‘female’ silhouette, which. okay fine whatever

- bo katan looks very pointedly down at the baby after saying ‘a group of religious zealots who want to return to the ancient ways’ which makes me VERY nervous for reasons I can’t quite articulate

- the mournful guitar version of the mando theme as din watches the sunset...... hmmmmngh (this might be some Symbolism happening to us folks strap in for the identity crisis he still hasn’t processed) 

- I Cannot get over din being so unimpressed by and uninterested in bo katan’s ‘retake mandalore’ sales pitch from literally the first moment dfhasdkjfhsad sorry lady kryze this man just does not do main quest shit, he’s all side quests all the time and that’s why I love him  

- as someone who after chapter 8 wrote a whole-ass fic that was wholly & exclusively about din telling the baby he’ll always come back for him... some of the shit he’s been saying this season does feel like it’s been written to mercilessly victimize me, personally and specifically 

- guessing this structure in the background is the traffic control tower! doesn’t really matter, I just thought it was neat

- this part of the soundtrack is called ‘ship o hoj, mandalorians!’, which I found incredibly charming haha (it’s ‘ship ahoy’ except how you write it in swedish, good one herr göranson)  

- bo katan is vague about who exactly the new mand’alor would be if they took back mandalore to begin with, she doesn’t specify she is planning to be the ruler until she’s already got din on the ship and in no position to refuse to help. gotta respect the grift at least lol  

I do love her voice, though, it reminds me a bit of jennifer hale as shepard

- “I need to get back to my ship, with the foundling” your honor I uh love him so fucking much 

- frog lady stroking the baby’s back a bit as she holds her hand behind him to make sure he doesn’t fall backwards while playing with the tadpole ;___________;

and also frog husband and frog lady reaching out to hold hands and frog smooching as din and yodito leave ;____________________________________________;

- when din says the exasperated “mon calamari. unbelievable” line, the baby makes that little blowing a raspberry sound he does as if to agree ‘uh-huh unbelu -- unbelly -- unbelievable dad smh’ and it is very very adorable 

- there’s quite a bit of Stuff in the concept art that didn’t make it in this time around; I wonder if maybe they cut some stuff for pacing or whatever and that’s why this episode is so short? water leaking into the cockpit of the razor crest, something that looked a bit like whaling going on on the docks and more spaceships taking off (maybe there were originally meant to be some smaller ships defending the big empire one?), there’s quite a bit here  

[rubysunnday]

Can I request a blind Shelby sister with Isaiah? Can be fluff or angst I don’t mind and can the Shelby brothers be included

A/N: if any of you have ever seen Say Yes to the Dress Lancashire then you’ll know about this incredible bride who is almost completely blind. In the episode she is described as a ‘fox in the snow’ and I got a lot of inspiration from that. You should totally watch the clip if you can find it, it’s one of my favourite episodes.

It was a condition that affected only 1000 people in the entire world. You, unfortunately, happened to be one of those people. When you were 14, you noticed that your eyesight was slowly getting worse and worse. Polly took you to the doctor and he revealed that, eventually, you would be blind.

At first you were incredibly angry. So, incredibly angry. Of all the people, it had to be you. It just had to happen to you. Your brothers were angry too but, upon seeing how distraught you were, hid their anger to look after you.

By the time you turned 19, you were all but blind. You could see flashes of colour if you were close up to something and the occasional sparkle, but the rest of the world was dark. Your family had been incredible in supporting you and helping you through it all but there was one person who’d been the greatest support to you.

Isaiah Jesus.

The boy you’d had a crush on ever since you’d met him. You considered yourself lucky that you’d found him before you went blind. You fully expected him to run away as soon as the news got worse – no one wanted to be stuck with a blind person.

Instead, he stayed by your side. He helped you every day with no complaint and was the beacon of light in an otherwise dark life. The two of you relied on one another and it soon became obvious to everyone around you that neither one of you would live without the other.

Isaiah asked you to marry him when you turned 20. He’d brought you with him to buy a ring and he and the shop assistant had spent hours describing every ring in the store until you settled on a small braided on with a tiny emerald set in the middle of it.

The hardest part of getting married was finding a dress to wear. You had no idea what any of them looked like, relying entirely on your brother’s and aunt to tell you. Every so often you caught a bit of a sparkle and it excited you belong belief.

But none felt right. They may have looked right but you didn’t feel right in them.

“Y/N,” Tommy said, sitting you down. You’d just taken off the fifth dress of the day and you were feeling distraught. “Isaiah isn’t going to care what you look like, sweetheart. You could wear a fucking paper bag and he’d still say you were the most gorgeous girl in the world.”

You sniffed, wiping your tears away and leant into your brothers side. “I just want to look pretty,” you whispered softly and Tommy hugged you tighter.

“Eh, what are all these tears for?” John asked as he sat down next to you and grabbed your hand.

“I’m just struggling,” you admitted softly, playing with the tie on the robe you were wearing. “Nothing feels right.”

John hummed quietly and paused for a moment. “Wait here, I’ll be back.”

You vaguely heard the front door bell ding and frowned. “Has he just left?”

You felt Tommy laugh softly. “Yeah, yeah he did,” he replied, leaning down and kissing your head.

/

You were in the middle of trying on the seventh dress when John came back.

“Where the hell did you go?” You asked, turning to face the vague direction you thought he was.

“I went and found your saviour,” John said and suddenly you felt a familiar hand in yours, gently caressing your knuckles.

“Hey, love,” Isaiah said quietly, and you found yourself smiling.

“Help,” you replied, gesturing to the room around you. “I don’t know what to do.”

Isaiah nodded, taken both your hands in his. “Ok, let’s try something else entirely.”

He gently led you over to where all the dresses were. As you ran your hands over the sleeves covered in beads and sequins, he quietly described the colour and design of them, allowing you to imagine how they all looked.

“Are there any like the one mum wore?” You asked, turning to face where everyone was sitting. “Or Esme?”

You heard someone get up and come over. “Yeah,” Polly said, taking your hand in hers. “Exactly the same or similar?”

“I don’t mind,” you replied, a soft smile playing on your lips. “As long as I feel right in it.”

Your aunt and fiancée described every dress to you in excruciating detail. Isaiah held them all up to allow you to feel the length, the fabric and the detailing on them all whilst Polly described the fit and the style – matching it to dresses you’d seen in the past.

“What’s this one?” You asked, reaching a hand out to feel one on the very end of the rack. It wasn’t too long nor was it covered in beads or sequins.

“That one,” Isaiah said, pulling it out to allow you to feel it properly, “is what Esme’s and your mum’s would look like if you cut them up and sewed them together. It’s got short sleeves and a several layers, all different heights. There’s a bit of beading around the waist that then fades away as it goes down and it’s the exact same shade as Esme’s.”

You let the soft, silky material run through your fingers and nodded. “Can I try it on?”

Isaiah helped you into the gown, allowing you a moment to feel it and how it curved to your body.

“You look almost exactly like your mother,” he said quietly, running a hand up and down your arm as you felt the beaded waist. “But you know Tommy’s horse, the black one with the white stripe?” You nodded. “Imagine him surrounded by fresh, crystal clear snow in the sunlight. That’s what you look like. It’s the most beautiful thing, ever, y/n/n.”

You sniffed softly but smiled. “Did you choose a veil?”

You felt Isaiah’s hand disappear from your arm before it appeared again. “Esme’s old one,” he said quietly, helping you crouch down so he could put it on you. “You said you wanted to wear it.”

“Only if it worked with the perfect dress,” you replied, allowing the soft material of the veil to cascaded over your shoulders.

“And it does,” Isaiah whispered, kissing your cheek. “You look perfect, my love. Does it feel right?”

Isaiah knew how important it was to you that the dress felt right. Not being able to see how you looked was terrifying, but you trusted him to make sure you didn’t look stupid. But feeling right in the dress was so important to you.

“It feels perfect, Is,” you said softly, trying not to cry. “It feels like my dress.”

Isaiah chuckled as you turned around, taking his hand to allow him to help you down. “Ready to show them?”

You shook your head. “No, but yes.”

You could feel the proudness Isaiah had on his face as he led you out to your family. He’d made them all close their eyes so that it wasn’t spoilt, and you could hear John chuckling quietly.

“I feel like I’m a show horse,” you said aloud, and John snorted.

Isaiah nudged you gently and you smirked at him as he straightened out your veil. “Ok.”

You had absolutely no idea what any of their faces looked like but the stifled sob from the general area your aunt was sitting told you more than seeing would’ve done.

“Y/N, you look absolutely stunning,” John whispered, and you could hear the awe in his voice. “I love it.”

“Tommy? Arthur?” You asked, frightened of what they were going to say.

“Arthur’s trying not to cry,” Finn replied, and you giggled.

“Shut up,” Arthur muttered, and you heard him standing up and braced yourself for the hug that was coming. “You look beautiful, sweetheart. Just like mum but so you as well.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, kissing his cheek. “Tommy? Your silence is never usually a good thing.”

“That would be because he’s currently crying whilst hugging Arthur,” Finn replied, ever the useful brother.

“Wish I could see for that,” you muttered, and you heard John’s bark of a laugh. “Come on, Tommy, it’s not that bad.”

You were suddenly enveloped in Tommy’s arms, judging from the smell of his cologne, and you hugged him back tightly, closing your eyes as the tears welled up.

“I am so fucking proud of you,” he mumbled in your ear, kissing your head. “So, fucking proud.”

“Isaiah said to imagine your horse, the black one, in the fresh snow with the sun shining down,” you told him, refusing to let go of him.

“The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Tommy replied, nodding. “There aren’t enough words to describe how beautiful you look, sweetheart, honestly.”

“I’m trusting you to get me down the aisle this beautiful, Tom,” you warned, straighten up as you let go of him slightly, your hands still entwined. “I don’t want to end up flat on my face.”

“I will never let you fall,” Tommy promised, “and if you do, I’ll always catch you, I promise.”  

[hjazysol]

Chapter 5: Onwards

_____

Shorter chapter this time around. Now I can finally start going into what I think will be my strongest stories going forwards and will include more familiar characters not just including OC's This Chapter right now will be more of a setup today.

_____

"Hey Yatsua?" Hokori was perched up ontop of his giant new ally. He put his face next to Yatsua to look him in the eyes properly, through all the layers of hair. "Can you spit webs from your mouth?"

""Hokori I eat from there. I don't want webs in my food. Or vice versa."

"But spiders tie up their food in webs all the time?" Hokori responded while playing around with the hairs on Yatsua's head. "Wouldn't you be able to eat them either way?"

"I do not want silk of my food. I... ...I tried it once. It was like when you get a strand of hair stuck in your food. No one wants that. Besides natural spiders suck out the insides of their prey."

"I suppose so I guess you're right." Walking behind the two was Kageyama. Initially disgusted by the conversation now with a smile that would only lead to trouble. "You know... There is one more place spiders naturally shoot silk."

Yatsua was nodding genuinely in immediate response before realising where he meant from whipping round his head at an abnormal speed. "... ...No... I can't do that..."

"No it's fine I understand you creepy crawler you're embarrassed you can be truthful with us."

"I don't shoot silk from my ass you idiot. You on the other hand are always talking from yours."

"Huh!? What'd you say!? Ungh!?" A foot slammed onto Kageyama's head and a hand pushed against Yatsua's face, because Hokori had stepped down off of Yatsua's shoulders. "Hahah! We're here we're here!"

"WE'RE NOT YOUR STOOLS YOU DUMBASS!" Both stepping stools yelled at Hokori for the action, Kageyama a lot louder than Yatsua. Takaishi squeezing past the two agitated teens caught up to Hokori in a slight bit of panic.

"Hey you need to be careful! I can feel more than one person just ahead. And they seem to be struggling, it's most likely that they're in a fight right now so I think that-."

"WHAT!? YOU'RE SAYING SOMEONE'S TRYING TO FIGHT MY SISTER!?"

"I mean yeah that is possible but-"

"WHAAAAAT!?" Hearing Takaishi's theory Hokori ignored all advice and common thinking he immediately made his way over to the house at an extreme speed. Much to the surprise to the three following him. "... ... ...Fast."

Meanwhile, at the Hitoshi household. "I don't know who you are but you need to get the hell out right now!" Henshi Hitoshi, Hokori's older sister was stanced up with a fist & a kitchen knife pointed at Shebi Ishikawa. The girl who Hokori had sent over there.

"Damn. That idiot. He didn't think to tell me that he had relatives home? After seeing the news of course they'd be antsy about just about any person who steps into here! Huh?-"

Dodging the sleek blade of the knife when Henshi lunged at her with no sounds given. "Wha- What the fuck!? Man I gotta get out of here! Why's this chick lacking so much when it comes to remorse? As far as it goes I'm just a random girl. And I'm not here for her brother either. Though I guess that-"

"HIYAAAAAAAAH!"

"Oh~ Now wha- Eh!?" Hokori jumped into the kitchen in time to join the conflict and kicked Shebi around the head amidst the confusion. "ALRIGHT I GOT HERE IN TIME!!!" His sister commended him. "NICE ONE HOKORI!"

"Don't worry sis I'll crush this guy before you can even bli-... ..." The red head had lost all colour from his body and was ogling at the person he had just kicked with souless eyes. "I've made a mistake... ...I'll just."

He tried to walk away from the issue much to the chagrin of Shebi, who was boiling red with anger, she grabbed his shoulder with her burning hands. "I-I'm sorry." He tried to look away from her. Though the second she had twisted his head round to glare at him he knew he was in for it.

"I hear yelling!?" A few minutes later a clicking noise was coming from the doorway. "Huh!? Aw man has a fight really started here!? The door's busted?" Takaishi and the other 2 had finally arrived. "There are holes everywhere aswell. There really must've been a fight."

Bursting from across the other room a wooden chair came their way. Hearing it coming Takaishi ducked then just as he entered Kageyama was hit in the head with it which Yatsua then caught. "...You alright down there?"

"No...No not at all."

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE!?" Takaishi listened into the kitchen. Noticing luxury tiles along the walls, cracked & damaged, and several cupboards crushed to pieces. Hokori was lay on the table all the while Henshi was inches away from stabbing Shebi with her pinned to the floor. "GUYS THERE YOU ARE FINALLY! GET THIS BITCH OFF OF ME!"

"Wh-Why's Hokori knocked out!?"

"HE KICKED ME HE DESERVED IT!"

"DID YOU AT LEAST LET HIM SAY WE WERE FRIENDS!?"

"OF COURSE NOT! NO ONE STARTS A FIGHT WITH ME AND GETS OFF THAT EASY!"

"HOW DO YOU EXPECT US TO GO OUT ON OUR OWN IF WE DIE BEFORE THEN!?" The knife Henshi was holding to Shebi's face clattered on the floor tiles beside her eyes.

"You- You're my brothers friends?" Gripping her hands around her mouth tightly Henshi began crying. "You're seriously here to help my brother?" It was an extremely sudden change in emotion. A change in emotion clearly coming out of genuine care for her little brother.

____

"I see...So in reality you've only really just been aquainted with one another? That's what you said Takaishi?"

"Yeah. But I'm not lying when I say I feel something genuine about him even though pretty much everyone of his chances of being a hero are reduced to zero. He's still trying his best. So that's why I'm asking. Allow your brother to become a hero by whatever means necessary."

"... Good grief." Henshi sighed shaking her head. "Now listen, Takaishi was it? As far as I'm concerned from my brief exposure to you all you're all strong and kind people, not sure about the girl though." Shebi tried making a fuss but was held down by Yatsua. "You're all strangers to me. And technically you still are to Hokori. So I say no. He's not allowed to go do fake Hero-ing with any of you. You'd have to go alone."

Creasing up his school trousers Takaishi grit his teeth with a relieving smile. It was that that surprised Henshi the most. "You're smiling? Is it right to assume that you didn't actually want to go?"

"No no that's not it at all. We want to be heroes. No matter what it takes we'll be Pros. Even if we need to break a few laws! That's what your brother said to us! If it were anyone else I'd have stopped begging ages ago! Hell I wouldn't even be here. It's just."

"Huh?" When Takaishi raised his head, Henshi bared witness to a smile completely free of fear and full of life. " He's the only one who's given me enough motivation to even attempt going after this impossible dream of mine! So please!" He bowed down his head. "Allow us to be his support. And his friends."

The rooms silence was restraining and tense. "... ...Well. For one. I wasn't exactly being completely truthful with my big sister act. To be honest with you. What I think about you doesn't matter nor does what you do matter to me. Because I know Hokori more than anyone. And he'd never listen to my sisterly advice anyway. Haha!"

"Th-Thank you so much for the opportunity and for giving us a chance to be heroes!" Politely smiling at Takaishi Henshi's attention immediately shifted to Shebi still restrained by Yatsua. "You."

"Huh? You got something to say?"

"... ...Please don't suck my brother face off." She smiled mischievously.

"EH!?"

_____

A boy was walking the streets back home wearing a UA uniform. "I don't really understand why. But various channels have urged that anyone with connections with the 1-S students immediately remove any and all connections...Oh ... ...Hokori..." Izuku 'Deku' Midoriya a UA student from class 1-A was swiping along his phone. Note that this happened a whole 30 minutes before the Asa Dewel incident. He was walking back from School early with Tenya Iida and Ochako Ururaka early from class because of the news leak.

She peaked over Izuku's shoulder rather curiously to glance at his classmates smart phone. "Hokori? So you knew one of the guys in that class?"

"Oh yeah that's right he went to my old school with me and Kaachan. He's the only person who ever spoke to me with any real respect. And I'm always grateful for that....So now. I don't really know what I'm supposed to do. Just blocking him out of the blue would be terrible."

"If I may lessen that thought for you Midoriya, here." Iida showed Izuku his smart phone. With a jealous Ururaka looking from behind. "Look at them showing off with their smart phones."

"Here Midoriya. Just go through it like this. Just say you're sorry then remove them from your contacts. That's what I chose to do with both Kageyama Itoua & Omega Hiakai. After they see it they'll understand its not something by choice."

"Eh. See I'd like to believe that but... Hokori isn't that bright when it comes to everyday normalities, his speciality is fighting first and foremost. He'd probably just ignore the reason and get depressed. Ah!" Not paying attention to where he was going Midoriya ended up bumping into an absurdly tall man covered in a ripped cloak and what looked like a farmers hat. "Sorry kid... Didn't see you there... ...Since you're here would you mind telling me the direction to UA from here."

"Oh er well from now. It's likely a 10 minute walk up the hill here. You can't miss it."

"...Thanks." This odd stranger advanced up the hill to reach UA leaving the 3 students behind. "I can smell it. I can smell the scent of fate telling me the secrets. Someone is fated to die on those school grounds. Hopefully a I'll find something that'll serve me quite well in the future. Heeeeerhahaha!"

"Well anyway I think I should go meet him in person. Though I doubt I'd be allowed to do that."

_____

 

"Alright then. So. I guess this will be goodbye. Hokori."

"Mhm. Yeah. Don't worry sis! I'll do whatever it takes to make mom & dad both proud!"

"Right! And you four. You better keep my brother safe alright!?" Each Takaishi, Yatsua, Kageyama & Shebi gave Henshi a thumbs up.

Embracing his sister to his arms Hokori hugged her. Her face was somewhat sorrowful. "Hm. Why are you sad?"

"You'll be ok won't you? You're only 16 and you'll be going at it in the world alone. Promise you'll be back."

"Eh...Well yeah! I'm not gonna be stopped! You should know me. When I have a dream I stay true to it no matter what!" Excitedly slipping away from his sisters arms pulling tight a rucksack around himself. Then the two siblings waved one more time to each other before Hokori's group began heading off. "Alright then! Let's go!"

_____

Clanging metals. Twisting screeches from metal pipes. Gears grinding against one another. Pumping pistons. Broken glass. Bubbling solutions. One abandoned building. In it was only the vaguest sounds of stretching rubber and the noises of it snapping back to something. "Well well well. Seven. It's really really been seven. Seven whole years. Seven whole years alone stuck in this mess and rubble. I was certain someone would show up eventually. But ah well silly mistake everybody!? Hahaha!"

The news broadcast by Osseka recorded via phone was being played on a small TV amongst the rubble of the building. "Haha. Well that crazy reporters got alot going for her right now then huh?" A hand clutched to a remote control completely crushed it to bits. "But that bastard of a scientist. Damn him! I thought he loved me. The God Hand. Akira Kamijiru. He left me waiting here. For nearly a decade! Then go an outwright replaced me!?"

That same hand stretched out punching through the tv infront of them. "Damnit! I was the first! His own child! He left a note saying seven for me specifically. At first i waited seven days, then it got to seven weeks, after seven weeks I had waited seven months and now seven years have gone by with nobody here! Only to find that I've been replaced. By some three eyed brat. Nobody cares. Not him and not the world the heroes came to this place and reeked havok."

"They didn't care what happened since we weren't seen as human. We're just weapons! Too dangerous to let live and if that's how this world viewed us then I'll play there stupid little games. A society where I'm the only one with power sounds perfect to me. Then I'll be the only one people are allowed to rely on. Me!"

"And with this labs remnants this will become reality I didn't just spend seven years doing nothing in here. I've studied, rebuilt and reutilised everything here. So now." They inhaled deep holding out a left thumb before fiercely biting into it and exhaling. It expanded their own arm incredibly large. "UA. While I'd have much preferred that Class of misfits 1-S now that 2 are heavily protected & that the others are all most likely going to be on the run."

They struggled to throw their fist up through the roof of the building they were inside of revealing that it was actually underground as it pryed open a massive hole through a barren area allowing sunlight to eventually peer light into the formerly void chamber below.

The light revealing a pink haired person with an effeminate body. They wore a white & pink striped clown outfit with baggy legs and messy hair. "I will find 1-A's most suited for the big experiment. Are you ready world? Cause me and my machines will completely eradicate this foolish hero society of yours. I'll ruin you all for treating me like trash."

[peeterparkr]

clear|epilogue|t.h.

EPILOGUE: CLEAR

pairing: surfer!tom x reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings: death mention

summary: the sun. 

series masterlist playlist (updated!) last chapter  what did you think?

i can’t believe it’s over omg i’m crying so much. thank you all for reading this and for the support, this story wouldn’t have been possible without you. anyway i’m emotional, thanks for keeping up, love you bye

Joanne used to love road trips. The music, the view, the wind coming through as she had her window open. The snacks she used to eat, and the path that let her imagination flow. It was the perfect time to think to herself, without anything bothering her. The road trips used to take her into an inexplicably calm place. The promise of a new adventure, keeping her imagination high. 

Joanne had been on road trips ever since that summer where she met Harrison. He’d come over to London as well, from time to time. Joanne was often forgotten, she knew. She was the sister that everybody took for granted. The sister that was often shadowed by y/n. Not that it mattered, anyway. 

Joanne was seen as someone rather substantial, while y/n was seen as someone with layers. People often passed by Joanne. They thought that she would be happy with red lipstick and pretty clothes when it came to much more. 

Her sister’s happiness would finally bring her own happiness. A tea with her grandpa and a beer with her grandma. It was simple, sure. But it made her smile. 

People took Joanne’s smile for granted, quite often. They didn’t realize that the day her smile was gone, everything would turn into darkness. 

Because Joanne also was the Sun. It was rather incredible how alike she was to her sister’s lover. Not in a way that would make it creepy, or weird, but in a way that people would often forget. How warm they make their days, and how cold the days were while they were gone. 

Who would want a road trip without the sun? 

Joanne would often return to town. She’d often stay at her grandparents, the place felt cold and white, if a colour can ever be felt. She could feel it. It was quiet, numb. Not even she could make it happy. 

Y/N only started coming back months ago, and it was a mysterious path. The moon made it less dark. That’s what Joanne thought, always. You could have a cloudy day, and it would still be bright, but have a night without the moon and you will really meet darkness. 

Joanne used to love road trips. But this time, she decided not to go on one. 

Joanne arranged the bottles of champagne as Harrison wrapped his arms from behind and placed a sweet kiss on her cheek. 

“We need everything ready-” She whispered. She was wearing a golden dress, that only made her red lips swaddle her smile. Years had gone past. 

“Jo,” he said. “Relax.”

Joanne sighed. “I want everything to be perfect, this is really for us, but… It’s mostly for y/n and Tom.” 

Haz took a deep breath. “It’s perfect.” 

Joanne played with the finger in her hand, turning it around her finger. She sighed. “Why am I so nervous?” 

It wasn’t a feeling that Joanne had, not usually, really. But she wasn’t sure why she didn’t feel her best. The room had lightbulbs that warmed the atmosphere, tall tables covered with white tablecloths, and blue and golden and blue ornaments on top. All you could see were paintings hanging on the walls. 

Haz smiled as he turned her around slowly, a sad look upon his face. “It’s perfect, it’s alright.” 

Joanne took a deep breath and finally smiled at the pair of blue eyes that were staggering her. “Yes,” she said before connecting her lips with his. 

“Miss y/l/n?” Someone asked, Joanne turned to see the waiter. 

“Yes?” 

“Everything is mostly ready, I just don’t know where I can leave the seashells,” he said. “Do I--” 

“Yes, right,” she cleared her throat, smiling. “Eh, well they’re all part of it, so, maybe on the tables… Yes scattered around it.” 

Harrison smiled, and kissed her cheek. “This is incredible. It’ll be okay.” 

Joanne nodded. “Well, it’s time.” 

And without any further ado, music played, as if orchestrated, the people who were invited walked through. They were chatting, and Joanne walked around the room, greeting the people she knew and also the people she didn’t. Haz followed her around, as she explained how to walk through it. 

People had glasses of champagne as they walked through the bricked walls, and illuminated with the gentle light. The room that was once a scattered mess now was buzzing with people admiring the art, the story. 

Some familiar people were there, Marcus Jones had a glass on his hand as he talked to Alexa. They weren’t paying attention to the walls but they were rather quiet, staring at the door. 

Though there were lights in the room, and music, and golden strikes, it felt blue. And it wasn’t the blue that came from the paintings, that prevailed from the waves and the storms. No, it was a blue that Joanne had seen before, at the end of that summer that had started it all. 

Harrison would hold her hand and squeeze it. The Hollands were there, too. Harry approached Joanne and gave a polite smile. 

Sam had stayed admiring a photograph, not a painting, a photograph. Low quality but with so much story. It made anyone shiver. 

 Paddy was walking around the room, a small smile on his face. 

People who had been close to them were quiet, but smiling. That was a constant, smiles. But quiet. 

Joanne talked to her mother who seemed slightly better than she had seen her before. She talked with whispers but congratulated her daughter. They spent some time talking to Haz parents. Charlotte, Harrison’s sister took Joanne’s hands with a smile. 

Joanne got to the centre of the room and finally clicked a spoon against her champagne glass. Haz behind her took her hand. 

“Hello everyone,” she started. “I would like to first thank you all for coming, it means a lot to Haz and me. I...We couldn’t be happier to be sharing this with you,” Joanne smiled. “We…” She sighed. “Love exists, we’ve been proven countless times before. We’re here tonight to celebrate love, a love that will remain forever. Haz and I have learned from the best, from the people who are in this room and people who aren’t.” 

The crowd smiled. She felt watched. 

“Haz and I wouldn’t be here… celebrating an engagement if it weren’t for the people who inspired those paintings,” Joanne grinned. “My sister,” she felt her voice crack just slightly, “always wanted to open this gallery, to show her story… And we thought it would be selfish if we didn’t show the respect Tom deserves,” she smiled. 

Harrison grinned as he gulped. “This wouldn’t be happening if it hadn’t been for my best friend, Tom,” he admitted, he had to clear his throat. “I—Tom owed Joanne a favour and that’s how we met, a beautiful summer love, a beautiful summer story, that once felt it would be momentary. We decided to pay them back, by opening this beautiful gallery.” 

“The walls surrounding us come from a beautiful imagination… A summer full of color, that tells the story of a storm and  riptide, the story of the sun and the moon.” 

Harrison smiled as she nodded at his now fiancée. 

Joanne sighed. “It’s a beautiful story, if you see each painting you will see it. How it starts blue, with a blurry and dark storm, a story about how no one will notice if the sun stops shining, through the cloudy days, you’ll still find a light but how important it is for the moon to appear each night to brighten up the darkness. It’s a story of how the moon cleared out the path for the sun, and how the sun helped the moon to shine by its own,  a story about a girl and a boy and the story about the odds being against them. About the riptide and the waves… and how you can drown in them. But it’s a story about healing, and a story about—“she took a deep breath. “A Story of a lighthouse guiding a lost soul.” 

Haz squeezed her hand. 

“I’m afraid my sister couldn’t be today with us, but I’m sure she’s paying her own homage to the inspiration of every single memory that we’re walking through today. From the seashells that started all, to the last tear shed,” Joanne said. “This is for them, to Tom and Y/N, whom without we wouldn’t be here tonight and who inspired us, Harrison and I to fall in love and to reach for a love like theirs.” 

Jared was the one to approach them now, he was sober, thing which had surprised Joanne. 

“Beautiful words, what a perfect way to pay homage while celebrating an act of love,,” Jared said. “I’ve got nothing to say but, congratulations Harrison and Joanne on your engagement!” 

The cheers continued. Haz and Joanne shared a kiss to celebrate their union. They kept talking and seeing the paintings, and people would often stop at the picture of Tom’s back, with the grey and blue storm. 

Joanne knew that she had drawn the attention from her engagement to her sister, once again. Joanne was fine with that. She knew, that she was always shining and that y/n, even though she was outstanding, barely had her time to shine. Joanne decided to give it to her. And besides, she deserved it. 

Tom did. Tom deserved it. 

Haz approached Joanne after a while and handed over a letter. “It’s from y/n, she asked me to give it to you.” 

Joanne dedicated him a sad smile, as she kept the letter to herself. She’d have time to read it, later. When everyone was gone. 

Some people wanted to buy the paintings, others just admired it. Joanne was happy, this paid her sister back. And she knew this would mean a lot to y/n. 

So she was left alone, with the waiters cleaning up the tables and Joanne sitting down on the only chair that would be left behind. She admired a painting, a particular one that she knew didn’t involve Tom, but her and y/n. 

Joanne took a deep breath as she stared at the picture, a face that represented a star, her blue eyes and y/n’s. With the blue sky behind, bright and dark. She was holding the letter as Haz placed a hand on her shoulder. 

Joanne finally opened the letter. 

“Jo,

There’s no easy way for me to say this. I can’t believe you’re engaged. My little sister is engaged. Bloody hell, can you believe it? And to realize it all came to one summer. 

A summer neither of us will ever forget. I sent you my congratulations already, and I hugged you enough. But I still wanted to write this. I guess because I know we are now both convinced that love does exist. And love, Jo, it’s forever. 

I think I decided to write this because it’s always been easier for me not to speak, you’ve always known my favourite words consisted of saying ‘Yes’ and’ ‘No’. The fewer words the merrier. 

I wanted to paint you something, but I guess I don’t really know what I could paint to help you understand how happy I am for you. Or how with my little experience I wanted you to understand many others. 

It’s my duty as the older sister to tell you that love is not always about the beautiful sunset, but it’s about knowing that it’s alright to drown sometimes. I’ve had my share of storms and all I can tell you is, the sun does come out. Don’t give up. 

From these years, I’ll tell you, I’ve learned you’ll never get tired of the prelude of a kiss, make them interesting, make them even more thrilling than the kiss, you’ll enjoy it more. Trust me, you’ll thank me later. Because the prelude can come in so many forms, sometimes it won’t be pretty, it’ll feel like riptide, and sometimes it’ll be a beautiful sunrise. Enjoy both.

Find the amazing blue that comes from tears, and try to make everything golden. You guys have an advantage, you love gold and Haz has blue eyes. That’s unfair, I guess. Use it. 

If you ever find yourself looking for reasons as to why you have to love him, think about love per se, and how extraordinary it is that you’ve found each other. Never forget your first day at the carnival or your first kiss on that party. 

Never be calm. You’ll have time for that later. But never, ever, forget that it all started in a summer where everything was supposed to be blue, and how you ended up falling in love with the colour. 

I guess my advice is silly, it’s always been. But I mean it. And from the short time I had, I always tried to make the best time of it. I still do. 

Again, I’m sorry I couldn’t be there tonight, but I still need time to heal. You know me, but I’ll be fine, because I know I have you.  I think I didn't give you enough credit for getting me out of that blue place the first time. How you always stuck there. I’ll be fine. I know you always worry. I’ll be fine. I’ve learned a lot. I guess without you I wouldn’t be here. 

I’m alright, really. And I know I need to write otherwise I would expect you to be here tomorrow. I don’t. Enjoy your time, it’s your time to shine as the bright sun you are. 

Congratulations, my little sister, I love you,

y/n.” 

“She’ll be okay,” Haz assured Joanne as soon as she finished the letter. 

Joanne smiled. “I know.” 

And she was. 

Y/N loved road trips.

Tom and y/n had left quite a story. They had a couple of years together, not enough, never enough, not even a thousand years would’ve been enough for their love.

But y/n knew that she wasn’t alone even when that summer had turned into winter. Y/N wasn’t feeling blue even as she watched the kids eating ice cream, and the couples playing at pools. Singing the summer hits.  And she kept her promise. 

She had cried, who wouldn’t. 

At first she cried because London and the rain reminded her of all the times she had met him in the rain, with both running away from their feelings. And how she wished she had a beach to surf on. But there was no ocean in London, so she’d have to come back. 

She would cry because she hadn’t yet opened the gallery. 

And she had cried because she didn’t want to go back to town, because everything was a reminder of an incredible, cruel summer. But eventually, she smiled. Because she knew she would teach herself how to fly and she remembered the exact moment she had promised Tom that she would smile. And it came down to a boy accidentally bumping into her slamming ice cream to her chest, a surfer that owned her heart. 

A boombox, a song, a Ferris Wheel, and him serenading under the moon. How there was life after love. 

Dying ain’t so bad, y/n had thought, because he hadn’t left her. And even in his last moments, she knew he had kept his promise, he had loved her until his last breath. And she continued to love him even after his hands turned cold. And she had to keep her promise. 

Y/N loved road trips, and she had decided to have one. She went back to town. 

She was on the blue valley, after taking a bath in the ocean and after surfing some waves. The surfboard she’d painted summers ago was standing on the sand.  

 She sat down with Tom’s guitar in her hands, remembering how she had fallen in love with a work of art. Someone who hadn’t faded away. 

And just as the sun was setting and the breeze was covering her, she smiled, knowing he was right beside her, so she started to sing, in a gentle voice, dedicating him the song, knowing he had already woken up with the clouds far behind him, where the troubles melted like lemon drops. 

And she was calm, and she had shed a tear, but finally, as she looked far beyond, the water was no longer murky, the sea didn’t show any riptide. 

The water was finally clear.

tag list @fairydustparker @ymeradonnadx @underoosmarvel @its-the-unknownspidey @wronglanemendes  @itsvianny  @jake-and-amy-are-married @starlightfound @tiredfeels @thespiderdweeb  @kill-the-stereo  @originalpinkpowerranger @anxiousdesignerdancerbandlover @organicpurplepants @happywolves81  @nedthegay @skylar-mendes  @emma-worthington  @bluparis @badhollandfluff @myspideysensesrtingling @spidermansmj14 @soccerstud004 @marinaabernardii @applenter @silver-winter-wolf   @harryh-peterp-stuff  @dark-infernal-instruments @claredolphinbear24 @bookgirlunicorn  @tomshufflepuff @avengersgirllorianna @alwaysbenhardysgirl @saintlavrents @herofiennestiffinashardinscott.  @tomzfrog @tohollandback @morganhoran1671 @awkwardfangirl2014 @spideysimpossiblegirl  @everythingbooknerd @captainbuckyy  @xapham @parkerswebhead  @gioandreolli @tomhollandisagod @danicarosaline @laurfangirl424 @vintageroses1014516 @cinnamon-roll-peter   @the-lost-fairy-tale @lala-florez @fufaation15 @healthyassdonut   @laurfangirl424 @ilcveyou3000 @xxtomxo @socorroann @muffinmari25   @cassindeansass  @rogers-obsessed-barnes-curious @southsidespidey @nathaliabakes @miraclesoflove @spidey-pal @angelsparkels281 @thatweirdomimic @imfreefallinall @meg-holland  @inlovewithmobtom @space-holland @astoldbydanid @hannahholland1811 @underooosss @snoopy3000 @honeymoonpeter @frustratingpaperclip @parkeret @lowkey-holland @shawnmendessoftie @spiderdahlia​ @superhappyholland​ 

[nightwingshero]

Character Study

I was tagged by @scarlettkat86 thank you, dear!

Yeah...I only did my favorites the ones I’m currently focused on right now. Jane is on the list, but I honestly think three is enough for this. Besides, it’s super early in the morning. 

Dahlia Strong

LAYER 01: THE OUTSIDE

NAME: Dahlia Mae Strong

EYE COLOUR: They’re ice green

HAIR STYLE / COLOUR: It changes, darling. It’s brown, clearly, but whether it’s short or long usually goes with the trend. But it’s normally short with curls.

HEIGHT: 5′03″

CLOTHING STYLE: *sigh* obviously whatever is currently in style. Mostly a dress with heels, stockings, a clutch and a nice coat and hat to go with. Now, I have heard of the women’s suits. Aunt Pol just got one and mine are coming in soon. 

BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE: *laughs* All of me isn’t enough? Mmm...I would say that perhaps my eyes would be the best. Maybe my smile, it tends to get people’s attention. Although Alfie would say it’s something else...and well, that’s not exactly appropriate for polite conversation, now is it?

LAYER 02: THE INSIDE

FEAR: I’m a Shelby, we don’t fear anything. But if I had to choose...losing my family and those dear to me. Our family is very close, don’t fuck with us, dear. 

GUILTY PLEASURE: I have a weakness for treats and sweets. There’s also a “baker” in Camden Town.

BIGGEST PET PEEVE: Stupidity. I have little patience for it. 

AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE: Succeeding with our family, dear. Shelby Company Limited is doing well. But I think deep down, I really would like to retire somewhere relaxing and enjoy that success. 

LAYER 03: THOUGHTS

FIRST THOUGHTS WAKING UP: Fucking hell, what did I have to do today?

WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT MOST: The business, of course. Business comes first, darling. 

WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED: None of your bloody business.

WHAT THEY THINK THEIR BEST QUALITY IS: Darling, I am very good at sweet talking and getting out of trouble.I’m also good at yelling at people...

LAYER 04: EITHER OR

SINGLE OR GROUP DATES: Group date...? Is that another term for orgy? I would prefer not to, but thank you. There’s a certain...someone who would not appreciate my participation in such a thing.

TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED: Respected. People don’t listen to you if they don’t respect you, my dear. Make sure they know who the boss is. 

BEAUTY OR BRAINS: What’s wrong with having both? That’s where the power lies, dear. Always choose both.

DOGS OR CATS: I have a cat, but I also adore dogs. They’re very cute, and good to keep around the house in case of protection. 

LAYER 05: DO THEY

LIE: If I did, I wouldn’t tell you, would I?

BELIEVE IN THEMSELVES: Bloody hell, of course I do. 

BELIEVE IN LOVE: Oh. Well, that’s an odd question. What does that matter?

WANT SOMEONE: *clears throat* I...I would rather not talk about this.

LAYER 06: HAVE THEY

BEEN ON STAGE: Oh, of course. I was a burlesque dancer. 

DONE DRUGS: No, although Finn tells me that snow is fun. Or well, cocaine, I should say. I haven’t tried it though, I’m rather fun without it. 

CHANGED WHO THEY WERE TO FIT IN: No. I am who I am, darling. People change to fit in with me.

LAYER 07: WHAT'S THEIR

FAVORITE COLOR: I like creams, grey, and blue. Also black. Very nice. 

FAVORITE ANIMAL: Animal? I like horses and deer. 

FAVORITE BOOK: I have too many to name. I have a full library. Would you like to see?

FAVORITE GAME: I like playing cards with my cousins. Arthur always gets so upset when I beat him. 

LAYER 08: AGE

DAY THEIR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE: Oct 2.

HOW OLD THEY WILL BE: 36. That’s a rude question, dear. 

LAYER 09: I...

I LOVE: My family, money...a certain man that will remain nameless, and if you say a word, I will cut out your tongue.

I FEEL: Fine. I feel fine. 

I HIDE: Whatever I have to. 

I MISS: running in the grass in my bare-feet. That is fun, darling. 

I WISH: You’d piss off. But I suppose I wish something planned out would go right for fucking once. I swear, Tommy and I will go grey from it. 

Wren Blake

LAYER 01: THE OUTSIDE

NAME: Wren Marie Blake

EYE COLOUR: Blue green, they kinda change. 

HAIR STYLE / COLOUR: My hair is black. I either keep it in a ponytail because it’s easier, but I also wear it down, too.

HEIGHT: 5′04″, unfortunately.

CLOTHING STYLE: I like skinny jeans, honestly. With a tank top, maybe a flannel. I have some t-shirts, too. And I’ll wear a leather jacket sometimes with combat boots. I have dress pants, heels, and some button ups, along with some dresses that John bought me. 

BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE: My body from the neck down because have you seen my tattoos? *goes to take shirt off* I can show you if you like?

LAYER 02: THE INSIDE

FEAR: Not being good enough and being alone. 

GUILTY PLEASURE: Singing in the shower. 

BIGGEST PET PEEVE: Being lied to. Don’t fucking do it. 

AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE: Enjoy peaceful time. Is that so bad?

LAYER 03: THOUGHTS

FIRST THOUGHTS WAKING UP: Five more minutes. 

WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT MOST: How fucking stressed I am all the damn time now. Fuck. 

WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED: I think about going to sleep because I fucking need it. 

WHAT THEY THINK THEIR BEST QUALITY IS: I don’t know, my sense of humor? Randy says its my talent at trying to kill people with my driving, but fuck him. 

LAYER 04: EITHER OR

SINGLE OR GROUP DATES: Single dates. I don’t do groups of people, not my thing. 

TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED: Both. I want people to love how much the respect me, and respect how much they love me. *chuckles* see, sense of humor. I’m hilarious. 

BEAUTY OR BRAINS: Brains. But not in a zombie way. 

DOGS OR CATS: Cats

LAYER 05: DO THEY

LIE: I try my best not to. 

BELIEVE IN THEMSELVES: Eh...

BELIEVE IN LOVE: ...Yes

WANT SOMEONE: None of your business!

LAYER 06: HAVE THEY

BEEN ON STAGE: Yes

DONE DRUGS: I had some fun in college...ever had acid?

CHANGED WHO THEY WERE TO FIT IN: I’ve done it before, but I don’t anymore. What’s the point of it?

LAYER 07: WHAT'S THEIR

FAVORITE COLOR: Black, navy blue, and burgundy. 

FAVORITE ANIMAL: Ravens, hawks, owls, and foxes.

FAVORITE BOOK: I like a lot of things. Jane Austen is a personal favorite, along with Edgar Allen Poe. Crime and Punishment is a good one, too. But I think Carrie by Stephen King holds dear to my heart. 

FAVORITE GAME: Video games or...? Because Spider-man, the Arkham trilogy, and God of War are pretty awesome. I like kicking Randy’s ass at Uno. There’s also drinking games...

LAYER 08: AGE

DAY THEIR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE: June 24th

HOW OLD THEY WILL BE: 28.

LAYER 09: I...

I LOVE: Singing, reading, listening to music, doing whatever I want that makes me happy. My friends. 

I FEEL: Stressed. All the time. 

I HIDE: My feelings and my stash of energy drinks. 

I MISS: *sigh* My mom. I really miss my mom. 

I WISH: This shit would stop, I’m tired of the fighting. 

Randy Miller

LAYER 01: THE OUTSIDE

NAME: Randall Michael Miller. But just...call me Randy, okay? I fucking hate  that name. 

EYE COLOUR: Blue

HAIR STYLE / COLOUR: Uh, it’s brown...and I brush it sometimes, does that...does that count as styling? I wear hats too. 

HEIGHT: 5′09″

CLOTHING STYLE: Pants, shirt, leather jacket and boots. I have suits too, I think. 

BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE: *laughs* arms. Definitely my arms. I tell Jane it’s my ass. 

LAYER 02: THE INSIDE

FEAR: *coughs* Wren’s fucking driving. 

GUILTY PLEASURE: Fruity drinks. I don’t give a fuck, they’re good and they fuck you up quickly. Jane makes fun of me. 

BIGGEST PET PEEVE: Don’t...don’t touch my bike, man. If you don’t want your face beat in, don’t touch my fucking bike. 

AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE: Pssh, don’t have any. Can I just worry about today? I think that’s enough. 

LAYER 03: THOUGHTS

FIRST THOUGHTS WAKING UP: Fuck this. And then I go back to sleep. Jane usually drags me out of the house. 

WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT MOST: My dogs and my bike.

WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED: I can’t wait to go to sleep.

WHAT THEY THINK THEIR BEST QUALITY IS: Oh...I guess my loyalty? Trustworthiness? Fuck if I know...my arms? Look, I can fight, okay?

LAYER 04: EITHER OR

SINGLE OR GROUP DATES: Eh...that all sounds like a rough time, I don’t date...well. Can...can we just skip that?

TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED: Respected. Respect me, respect the bike, don’t touch it, and respect my dogs. Or else. 

BEAUTY OR BRAINS: I have both, so no brainer there...wait...

DOGS OR CATS: Dogs. Cats freak me the fuck out. 

LAYER 05: DO THEY

LIE: When I need to

BELIEVE IN THEMSELVES: I believe I’m pretty fucking awesome.

BELIEVE IN LOVE: Why are you asking?

WANT SOMEONE: *clears throat and shifts uncomfortably* Why are you asking these weird questions?

LAYER 06: HAVE THEY

BEEN ON STAGE: Fuck no.

DONE DRUGS: I plead the fifth...Johnny taught me that one. 

CHANGED WHO THEY WERE TO FIT IN: Fuck no. 

LAYER 07: WHAT'S THEIR

FAVORITE COLOR: Black and dark green. 

FAVORITE ANIMAL: Hawks and wolves are pretty cool. So are bears, when they’re not trying to kill you. 

FAVORITE BOOK: I like a lot of Ernest Hemingway, but I read mostly poetry. 

FAVORITE GAME: I kick Wren’s ass at Uno. We do drinking games, too. And Monopoly, but don’t tell her I told you. 

LAYER 08: AGE

DAY THEIR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE: July 1st

HOW OLD THEY WILL BE: 31.

LAYER 09: I...

I LOVE: Fighting, riding dirt bikes and my motorcycle, my dogs...all kinds of things. 

I FEEL: Tired. 

I HIDE: My fucking whiskey because Wren and Jane steal it. 

I MISS: Motorcross racing. It’s so much fucking fun, man. 

I WISH: I had another dog. I’ve been thinking about either getting a German Shepherd, Boxer, or a Pitbull. I don’t know yet...I might get all three. 

Tagging: @pd3 @simonxriley @xbaebsae @tomexraider @faithchel @risenlucifer @abosaa @ja-crispea @dieguzguz @trialandseed @princess-underthemountain

[neerasrealm]

All of my unpublished Slenjack fics

All of them. Since I began writing about these two in May. This is four months of drabbles. I tried to put them in chronological order and some of them have iffy canonicity. Please enjoy. If there’s typos pls ignore them thanks.

Thunder

Slender wished his bunker was deeper underground. They were safe down there, yes, but he could still hear things from above ground loud and clear. Specifically the irritating whistling noise made by falling bombs before the loud rumbling boom that seemed to shake the ground above him.

He looked up at the ceiling once the shaking had died down. He briefly glanced at the only other person in the bunker, Laughing Jack, then back down at his book. Then he looked back at Jack.

He was sat on thei- Slender, Slender's bed, staring at the ceiling. He looked to be breathing shakily, eyes glued to the concrete above their heads as he gripped the bed's blanket tightly in his bony black fingers. Slender heard another whistling noise, and saw Jack tense. There was another rumbling boom and the monochrome clown let out a quiet whine of fear. He quickly hugged himself, screwing his eyes shut.

He watched, taken aback. He'd never known Jack to get so scared- save for when he had nightmares. He heard another telltale whistle, and before he could think about it, he crossed the bunker and sat down next to Jack. He wrapped an arm around the clown and pulled him close. Jack's eyes opened in surprise. He looked up at Slender for a moment before the inevitable boom came from above them. Jack made a small yelp of surprise and quickly wrapped his arms around Slender, burying his face in his chest.

Slender tensed for a moment. He heard Jack inhale shakily and he relented, rubbing his back slowly.

"...'m scared've thunder." Jack said after a long, long silence. Slender looked down in surprise. "Dunno why. I's jus' always freaked me ou'."

"I see." Slender rubbed circles into Jack's back. He responded by slowly running his sharp nails down Slender's hips. Goosebumps broke out beneath his touch. He could feel Jack's warm breath against his chest as he slowed his breathing.

"...I think they've stopped." Slender said after a few minutes- or maybe it was only moments. He wasn't sure of how long a second was anymore. Not with Jack happily snuggled against him.

"Yeah?" Jack didn't seem to be planning on moving from his position. Slender hesitated, then wrapped his other arm around him.

Housing

Another book finished.

Slender closed what he was reading and sighed- somehow, despite his lack of mouth and nose. He glanced at his...companion. Friend? Roommate? He wasn't sure. From where he sat on his bed, he could only see the back of Laughing Jack's head. The monochrome clown was sitting against the bed, his knees arched up as he used them to write something. Slender craned his neck to see over his shoulder, and realised he wasn't writing. He was drawing. Jack did that often, pulling out pieces of paper and a box of crayons. His drawings weren't great, and childish in nature and style but Slender didn't criticise him. After all, Jack was basically a giant toy. It was fitting he drew like a child would.

Slender looked at the ground next to where Jack sat and looked at the drawings he'd discarded. He picked one up with a tendril and looked at it curiously.

The drawing was of a house, with a long garden and trees. He glanced at the ground again. More houses.

"Was yer book good?" Jack broke the silence. Slender looked over at him.

"Well considering it's the third time I've read it," Slender replied. "I suppose it was."

Jack let out a single "heh." of amusement and set down his next drawing. Slender leaned forward to look at it. This one had stick figures standing next to the house. One labelled "Isaac" and one labelled "me". Slender curiously took in what little details the stick figures had. Isaac had brown spiky hair, and was pretty short. Of course, Slender knew very well who Isaac was. He glanced at Jack.

"Is that where he lived?" Slender asked. Jack shook his head. "Nah. Isaac always said 'e wanted ta live in a big ol' house," the clown chuckled a bit. "Wiv a wife an' all." A grin grew on Jack's face and he looked at Slender. "'E said 'e wanted kids too, ya know tha'?" His glassy eyes seemed to shine with excited joy. "Two li'le lads, an' 'e said I could play wiv em too."

Slender tilted his head. He would've smiled, had he a mouth. "That sounds nice."

Jack nodded and turned back to his next piece of paper. He paused for a moment, then began to draw. Slender stayed quiet, letting him work. Finally, Jack held up his picture. It was of himself, dropping candies over smaller figures, probably children. He held a balloon in his free hand. "Looks nice." Slender complimented. Jack smiled. "Yeh! I's like- part o' th' ol' stree' shows I'd do back in London! I'd throw swee's a' th' kiddos," Jack chuckled. "They'd love i'."

Jack placed aside the drawings and sighed happily. "I miss those days..." He said with a smile. Slender paused for a moment.

"After the war you could become a performer again," Slender suggested. "I'm sure kids would love you."

Jack shrugged. "Eh. I don' fink America'd like me. Think I was up t' somethin'."

"To be fair, you are a living toy." Jack laughed at that. He laughed a lot, which made sense. It was in his name. Still, Slender enjoyed the noise. It made him feel like everything was okay in the world. Which was nice, since they were going through a war right now.

The clown leaned back, resting his head and arms against the side of the bed. He looked up at Slender and smiled softly. "I miss th' kiddos..." He murmured, a little sadly. Slender hesitated, then ruffled the clown's messy hair. He'd found that Jack liked being patted, or just- being touched affectionately. Probably due to being a toy. Jack gave him a toothy grin and closed his eyes happily, pushing his head against Slender's hand slightly. He reminded Slender of a cat, oddly.

"I'm sure this war can't last much longer," Slender said. "The humans have been fighting for what? Three years now? Surely they can't keep going?" Jack shrugged. "I dunno, slen. They're hardy bastards when they feel like i'."

"Mmm." Slender usually scolded the clown for his language, but he was too distracted by how fluffy his hair felt. How Jack kept it like that he'd never know.

"...I wish I could 'ave kids." Jack said randomly after a few moments of silence. Slender's eyes, if he had any, would've shot wide open.

"E-Excuse me?" Slender asked. Jack looked up at him, confused.

"Y'know like- a dustbin lid runnin' round. Maybe two, like Isaac said." Jack smiled to himself. "I'd like tha'."

Slender withdrew his hand, regaining his composure a bit. "Ah." He said. "I suppose that would be nice..." He would've smiled if he had a mouth. "I've- actually always been good with children. I did a lot of work raising Splendor, so I suppose I...picked it up."

Jack was quiet for a few moments. "Would ye want kids?" He asked.

Slender looked down at him for a moment. "...yes. I...I actually like that idea," he glanced down. "I suppose I just- assumed it was out of the question."

Jack grinned and rolled over onto his knees rather than sitting. He grinned up at his faceless friend. "We should 'ave kids!" He chirped.

"E-Excuse me?!" Slender yelped. Jack looked up at his friend, confused. "Ya know like- ah..." The clown furrowed his brows.

"Adoption! Tha'! Tha's a thin', yeah?"

"O-Oh-" Slender relaxed. He thought Jack meant- nevermind. "What do you mean 'we'?" He asked slowly.

"Th' two of us raisin' a kiddo togetha." Jack replied. "Wha'd ye fink I mean'?" He asked with a curious blink. Slender looked away from the clown as his face turned a dark grey colour.

"Nothing." He looked down. "I don't know how we'd be able to do such a thing...I don't even have a home- unless this bunker counts." Slender rested his head in his hand. "And we're not even human, I don't know how we'd be able to adopt a child and give them a good life." He heard Jack moving around, and a weight on the bed next to him. "They'd probably fear me..."

Jack's thin, black fingers curled around Slender's hand. The faceless creature craned his face towards him. "Slen', don' say tha'." He said softly. "I'm sure we'll work somefink ou'- we could ge' a 'ome after this." The clown smiled at him. "doesn' hafta be a big'un like Isaac said."

Slender would've smiled if he had a mouth. "You say that like building houses is easy, Jack." He said, a strange fondness leaking into his voice. "And what about the children?"

"...there migh' be some like us." Jack replied. He looked down at Slender's hand, running his boney thumb over the knuckles. "No' 'uman. Needin' a 'ome." There was a pause. "I've me' a fair share of ghosts in me time..."

Slender stared at his friend for a few moments. It was odd, how Jack, despite being over a century old, could still look like a child sometimes. Slender reached over and patted Jack's head. The clown looked up at him quickly.

"Why don't you tell me about that big house Isaac spoke of?"

Cuddles

"Hssk-"

He jolted up.

"Gfff-"

He hugged himself tight and rocked himself, trying to calm down.

"Hh- hhnk-"

His breathing was ragged and shaky with panic. He could feel a chill running up his spine- if he had one. He was pretty sure he did, beneath the layers of stuffing. His right hand stopped hugging and instead cupped his face. He stared at his knees, at his patchy black slacks as he tried to calm down.

It wasn't real. He knew that. Just a nightmare, like anyone else would get. They were normal. He screwed his eyes shut as his breathing began to slow. He'd learned how to calm himself over the years. His left arm, still at his side, snaked around and rubbed circles into his back as he continued to rock himself.

As he calmed himself down he hummed to himself. The first song that came to his mind was London Bridge Is Falling Down, so he hummed that. Once he was finally calm he looked up slowly, taking in his surroundings. Bleak gray walls, a few posters, shelves and assorted furniture- Slender's bunker. He glanced up at the ceiling for a few moments, wondering if the bomber planes were flying overhead right now. It was funny, that the humans decided they needed to start another giant war only 23 years after the last one.

Because of them he was stuck in this tiny cramped shelter again. It was more spacious and homey than- the box but- he still found it too cramped sometimes.

He looked over at the bed in the corner of the room where Slender lay, sleeping peacefully. He then realized he wasn't in the armchair he'd fallen asleep in. He'd somehow moved over to the opposite side of the floor while sleeping. That sometimes happened, especially when he had bad dreams.

He hesitated, then crawled across the floor to Slender's bed. He sat down quietly beside it, his back to the faceless cryptid. He stared at the wall, listening to his breathing. How long had they known each other? 29 years? Possibly more. He wasn't sure, and math wasn't exactly his strong point.

It was long enough for him to catch feelings, he sure as hell knew that. He wouldn't dare say a word though. He knew Slender needed time to work his feelings out, come to terms with himself. Society didn't exactly like their kind of relationship, not that he could care. They were both creatures made from angels for one, and he was fairly sure they were both immortal, so hell didn't concern him, and humans sure as hell didn't.

"Jack?" His thoughts were interrupted by Slender's voice. He looked over his shoulder at him. "Why are you awake?"

"Why do ye think?" He responded. He looked away again. "I'm 'right, slen- jus' like bein' near ya." There was silence for a few moments, and he heard Slender shifting in the bed. Probably rolling over to sleep.

"Would you like to get in the bed?" Slender asked. He perked up and looked at him curiously. Oh, this was unusual. He had no idea what this could lead to but-

"Sure."

He climbed up into the bed and they stared at each other for a few moments before Slender tentatively reached out and tugged the blanket up. He seemed to hesitate, like he wanted to do more- but neither were willing to push it. He could tell Slender was far out of his comfort zone here, lying in the same bed alone in a bunker underground. Anything that happened here, in this secret spot, was between them and only them.

He hesitated, then scooted forward slowly. Slender made no move to stop him, so he guessed it was okay. He stopped, waiting to see if Slender would make the first move. The faceless cryptid's long, slender arms wrapped around him gently. God it felt nice being hugged- it came naturally to him, being a sentient toy and all. Slender's fingers rubbed circles into his back, a touch so tender it made him melt right into his arms.

He wound his puffy arms around Slender, hugging him back. He gently pressed his face against his chest and stayed still. He didn't dare move, knowing he was on thin ice here. He wouldn't even think about pushing his companion's limits. He'd be slow, if that's what it took him.

He could hear Slender's heart beating loudly. It was an odd sound- his heart beat far, far slower than a person's, and he'd been surprised to find Slender even had one. The noise was usually hard to notice because of its speed, but now it beat just a bit faster than a human's. He closed his eyes and faked a yawn. His way of saying this was as far as he'd go. Slender seemed to relax. He could feel a head resting on his, and the circles being rubbed into his back came slower and slower until the hand went still.

Laughing Jack allowed himself to drift asleep in Slender's bed.

Confessions

Over the years he’d known him, he’d realised he had no one way of being drunk. He could become sad and mournful for people long lost, he could be serious, his accent would thicken to an almost incomprehensible degree, or he’d become bubbly and giggly, affectionate and loud about it.

But right now was the...oddest of his drunk moods. Quiet. It was so unlike him to be quiet and reserved. He was always humming, smiling, joking- doing something that would remind him that he was there. Alive. Breathing. 

Their legs hung off the edge of the dock, the sea breeze chilling their faces and blowing his hair. He sighed. He was tired. Not from the long night, but the effort of keeping up his human form.

‘’I honestly thought I’d like you more when you were quiet.’’ Slender said.

‘’Ye don’ like me when I shu’ me gob?’’

‘’Not particularly.’’ he leaned back, pale blue eyes flicking over to Jack. ‘’Maybe I’ve become too accustomed to always hearing you make noise.’’ 

‘’Heh.’’ 

They fell silent again. It felt odd. Being outside. At night. They didn’t need to worry about air raids or a war going on around the entire globe. Because it had ended. Everyone had celebrated, and they were getting back on their feet. Hell, the two of them were planning to build a home for themselves. They would live together.

‘’Wha’s goin’ on in tha’ loaf ‘f bread, Slen?’’ Jack asked. Slender looked over at him, taking a moment to realise what he was asking.

‘’Oh...I was thinking about how odd it feels being outside now that the war is over.’’ He looked down at the water below them. ‘’Not that I’m complaining. I know you hated the bunker. And it means I can see my brothers more often,’’ a soft smile crossed his face. ‘’And we can have nights like these, together.’’ he turned to Jack again, smiling.

‘’Heh.’’ Jack said again. ‘’...Yeh, I enjoy our li’le da’es togeth’r too, china pla’e.’’ 

Slender blinked. ‘’Dates?’’

‘’Tha’s wha’ I call ‘em.’’ Jack murmured back as he pulled a box of cigarettes and a lighter from his sleeve. Slender watched him light one up and begin smoking. Slender only stared at him, Jack’s pale blue, almost white, eyes flicked over to him. ‘’Somefin’ wrong, china pla’e?’’

‘’Jack…’’ he gulped and looked away. ‘’I-’’ he pursed his lips then sighed. ‘’Nevermind.’’ 

‘’Slen.’’ Jack scooted closer to him. ‘’..I know. I’s awrigh’.’’

Slender looked at him for a few silent moments then away again. ‘’...I…’’ he took a deep breath. ‘’I have feelings for you, Jack. And I accept if you fear that these relationships will negatively impact our relationship.’’ 

‘’Slen.’’ Jack sounded annoyed now. ‘’I’ve kissed ye. A fair few times. No’ ta mention we’ve shared a bluddy bed an’ I’ve told ye I luv ye.’’

Slender tensed. ‘’I know.’’ He mumbled.

‘’An’ fock, I’ve known ye fer- god i’s been donkey’s ears, ain’ i’?’’

‘’Thirty three years.’’ Slender said.

‘’Exac’ly!’’ Jack raised his arms as he spoke with such force his body almost fell back for a second. Slender managed to steady him. ‘’An’ ye fink I’m gonna turn roun’ ta ya an’ say tha’ I don’ fink of ye as all me trouble an’ strife?!’’

‘’...I’m a man.’’

Jack blinked and looked at him. ‘’So I can’ call ye tha’?’’

Slender pondered it for a moment then shook his head. ‘’No, go ahead. I don’t mind.’’

‘’Awrigh’ well-’’ Jack blinked a couple times, like he was trying to bring himself out of his drunken haze. ‘’I luv ye too Slen. An’ I’ve made i’ very clear tha’ I luv ya.’’ He looked down at Slender, a serious look on his face. ‘’I’ve been wai’in fer ya ta tell me tha’ ye luv me too. Y’know tha’ righ’?’’

‘’...I know…’’ Slender looked away. ‘’I’m sorry it’s taken so long, Jack. I just- wasn’t ready I suppose.’’ he fiddled with his hands. ‘’I never really thought of myself as capable of falling in love I mean- I’m old, and humans have such short lifespans so I didn’t try to get attached to any but then you came along and of course you’re-’’

His rambling was cut off by Jack’s large hand covering his mouth. ‘’Slen, shu’ up wiv tha’.’’ he grunted. ‘’If all ye fink abou’ is ou’livin’ ‘umans ye’ll neve’ make any ma’es, will ye?’’

Slender looked up at him and softened. He sighed and pulled Jack’s arm away. It instead wrapped around him. ‘’No...I suppose not…’’ Slender glanced aside. ‘’Still I...I’m sorry I took so long to say I love you.’’

‘’I’s awrigh’ Slen.’’ Jack softened and smiled down at him. It was unlike his usual smiles. It was genuine, loving, caring. The look made Slender feel...safe. ‘’No’ like I’m ge’in older er anyfin’.’’

Slender chuckled. ‘’No, neither of us really are, are we?’’

Jack laughed next to him and leaned down, planting a kiss on the top of his head. ‘’I luv ye. Ye ol’ bastard.’’

‘’Rude.’’ 

Zalgo is a BITCH ASS MOTHERFUCKER

"So 'ow is 'e?" Laughing Jack asked as he looked over at Slender. 

Slender sighed. "Still mad at me." He said, sadness leaking into his voice. He closed the door to the sunroom and leaned sideways against the wall. He watched the monochrome clown flick his lighter on and light the cigarette clenched between his teeth. 

"E'll come aroun'." He replied. He took a puff of the cigarette and breathed out, blowing hoops with the smoke like it was the easiest thing in the world. Slender, if he had a mouth, would've smiled. The smell of smoke reminded him of times long gone.

"I know...it's just-" Slender fiddled with his tie. "I give him all the attention he could want, support, I teach him that it's okay to be himself and tell me when something is wrong but...then he runs off without a word and-" he paused for a moment. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong…"

"Ye're no' doin' a fing wrong, Slen. I's no' yer faul' tha' 'e's no' be'er ye'." Jack looked at him. Despite how carefree and jokey he was all the time...these moments, when Slender showed the smallest signs of anxiety and doubt, his gaze became stern, his voice firm and wise. "Jeff- well I don' know 'is whole tale bu' I can only assume i's seven kindsa focked. Ye cant fix a broken down jam jar wiv jus' new par's, ye go'a take th' ol' ones ou' firs'." 

"...Your analogies are as creative as ever." Slender replied. Jack gave him an agitated look.

"Shuddup, I'm knackered. Spent all day wiv th' li'le missus." He nodded at the wooden pirate ship across the yard from them. Something Jack had built with a bit of help from Slender's brothers. It was big, big enough for him and Sally to run around on while they travelled the high seas together. There was even a slide.

Slender laughed a bit. He sighed, looking up at the sky. It was quiet for a few moments before something nudged him. He looked down to see LJ's arm stretched out, holding the box of cigarettes in offering. Slender didn't smoke, at all. He hadn't when it was fashionable, and he especially didn't now that he knew about the health risks. Even though they probably wouldn't affect him, he wasn't willing to try. 

"No thank you."

The hand retracted and the cigarettes were put into the pocket of LJ's trousers. It was quiet again for a little bit. "Jack?"

"Mmm?"

"How do you always know what to say?" Slender asked. LJ took a long drag of his cigarette. 

"'Ow do you always see th' bes' in every'un?" He retorted. Slender looked at him, surprised. "In Jeff, in Toby, in me." Jack stared at him. "Ye never give up on 'em. Every'un is capable 'f bein' a good person ta ye. Why?"

Slender looked down. "...I just don't believe anyone is truly evil. The worst of the worst can redeem themselves. Toby has, you have- I mean- you do nothing but make children happy, both here and among the world...and- I believe Jeff can too."

A small smile spread up Jack's face. "Even tha' gobshite Zalgo?"

"...don't say the bastard's name here." Slender replied with a smile in his voice. Jack threw his head back and cackled.

Slender you dumb bitch look after yourself

"Jack? What are you doing up?"

Jack looked over his shoulder, black hair blowing softly in the wind. "Ye mean up 'ere or why am I awake?" 

Slender sighed and walked down the roof using his tendrils to keep himself from falling. He sat down next to the black and white clown. The moonlight glinted off his pale white skin. "Why are you awake?"

Jack shrugged. "Couldn' sleep." He replied. "Why're ye up, Slen? Ye need res'." 

"I'm fine."

"Well I know ye're no'. Ye're g'nna be up a' seven or eigh' makin' breakfas' fer every'n an' then ye're g'nna clean th' entire bluddy gaf, then make lunch fer every'n." Jack looked at him. "Ye work too 'ard."

The faceless man looked away from him and instead out at the forest past their backyard. "I'm fine, honestly. I do that every day, I can handle it."

"Tha's me feckin' point! Ye work yerself ta th' bone every day an' act like ye're no' bluddy knackered!" Despite his yelling, Jack didn't sound angry. More frustrated and worried. 

Slender rested a hand on Jack's shoulder, squeezing it softly. "You don't need to worry about me." He said softly.

"If I don' then who will?" Jack asked softly. "Ye work so 'ard fer us all an' never complain...we all owe ye so much ye' ye never ask fer anyfin'." He looked up at Slender. He looked- sad. And worried. "I don' want ye ta 'ide yer problems fer our sake. Th' kiddos- they care abou' ye. A lo'."

Slender was silent for a few moments. His hand moved off of Jack's shoulder, and for a moment the clown was worried he'd stepped too far but- instead the hand curled around his own bony, bandaged hand. 

"I know my limits Jack, don't worry." Slender shifted closer to him and looked down, faded blue eyes meeting a featureless face. "I don't mind working hard for all of you. You all make it worth it. I appreciate your concern, but you don't have to worry so much."

Jack was silent for a moment. "Ye know I worry abou' ye because I love ye, yeh?" 

Slender blushed, his cheeks turning a dark grey colour. "I know." He responded softly. Jack moved closer and hugged Slender semi-tightly.

"Then le' me a' leas' look after ye while ye look after th' bin lids, yeh?" His voice was soft and loving. Slender couldn't possibly bring himself to say no to Jack- not when he was curled up against him like this.

"..Alright." He combed his hand through the clown's hair. "...Thank you…"

"I's nofink." Jack replied tiredly. Slender held him close, petting his hair lovingly until he dozed off.

Jeff you bitch ass motherfucker

It's so quiet out here by the lake. It's miraculous- the fact that there's a house available to rent just between the sea cliffs, right where nobody can find us, save for people on boats, but we're down away from the mountains and far from any other buildings, so there's no reason to come over here.

Secluded and alone. Perfect for our...odd, little family. 

Our children are swimming in the waters in front of us. Sally is swimming after Cody, they're probably talking, while Dina paddles after the two of them. She's gotten rather good at swimming, I've hardly had a chance to teach her thanks to those two. EJ is on a float- oh nevermind Jeff just flipped it over. Even from here on a rock on the shore I can hear him laughing. I watch Jeff swim away to go terrorise Michael, who's just floating peacefully on his back. 

We're not the only ones on the shore however. Just below the rock we're on is Ben, headphones on, playing a game. He's scared of water, so he prefers to stay on the land with his games. There's also Helen, sitting a little bit away, painting the sunset. Smile, the family dog, is fast asleep on the sand, lying on his back with his four legs in the air.

And Jack, my- my husband...is lying against me. He isn't one for water either, so he's perfectly happy to lie curled up next to me. I don't mind. He's soft to touch, and I love him. Obviously.

I hear him chuckle a bit. "I fink Jeff go' Mike's glasses." He says softly. I smile a bit. Well- smile as much as I can without an actual face. 

"It's because he knows we're not able to go into the water to tell him off." I say. Jack laughs. His voice is soft and raspy but I love it. I watch Jeff throw the glasses. They hit Dina and sink into the water. She whirls around and paddles after Jeff, who swims off quickly. Luckily Sally is quick to dive down and retrieve them for poor Michael. "He's pushing his luck." I add. 

"I'll bury 'im in th' sand while 'e's sleepin'. Tha'll teach 'im." Jack responds. I chuckle. "I can ge' Mike ta 'elp. Junior too."

I lean down and press my face against the top of his head. I can't kiss him but he understands the gesture just fine. "I'll pretend I didn't hear you planning this." I say. Jack grins up at me, then grabs my face and leans up, his neck stretching as he plants a kiss on my cheek. 

"Yeh, okay." He says softly. My hand combs through his thick black hair. It's silky and soft. I feel a couple of braids in among the locks. Probably Sally's doing. He rests his head against my shoulder and sighs happily. "I luv ya, china pla'e."

"I love you too, Jack."

[bat-besties]

Rain towards morning

AO3

Chapter One

Platonic Roman and Virgil

A friendship grows between Roman, a lonely farmer, and a mysterious stranger. But when Virgil's past catches up with both of them, Roman digs himself in farther than he imagined as his heroism is cruelly tested.

Edited by the lovely @mariniacipher! 

5.5k

*

Roman met Virgil in the gentle mist of morning, dew bejewelling every blade of grass and drooping flower in the meadow sloping down from his farm. He occasionally found people sleeping under the hedgerows, most of them travelling for work, but usually they made an effort to shelter themselves from the elements.

This man lay in the middle of the field, droplets of dew clinging to his eyelashes and fingers dug into the earth at his sides. He was pale as the fog over the hills in the distance, and his thin white shirt fluttered in the breeze. Deep eyebags shadowed his eyes.

"Hello!" Roman called over to him, hurrying down the slope to get to him.

The man startled awake and scrambled back.

"And what the fuck do you want?" he snapped, wide eyes darting back and forth between the gate and Roman.

Roman halted. "Nothing! Nothing!" He laughed, trying to diffuse the tension. "You looked like a corpse."

"Thanks."

"No, like..." Roman cut himself off with a shake of his head. "I was concerned! You're not dressed for the weather."

The man ducked his head as he snickered, damp hair hanging into his face.

Roman was thoroughly confused but, well, there was no use getting hung up on that. "Do you want breakfast?"

"What?"

"Breakfast!" Roman said brightly. "My farm is just up on the ridge. Come and have breakfast with me."

"For...what?"

"Free?" Roman tried.

The man unfolded, rising onto his feet with an airy grace. He was taller than Roman, but looked thin enough to be blown away with a strong breeze. "Free," he repeated warily. "Just as a gift?"

"I promise," Roman said, raising up his right hand. "On my honour!"

"I'll settle on wagering your farm instead."

Roman wasn't entirely sure whether that was a joke but, well, he wasn't planning to play any mind games over eggs. "On my farm, you'll owe me nothing."

"Okay," the stranger said. He wrapped an arm over his chest. "Thank you."

"No problem," Roman said, setting back home. "Where did you come from?"

"The, uh, road. Just trying to make the next town." Roman glanced at the man's hands, delicate and pale as though he'd never done a day's work in his life.

"Which town?"

"Do you usually ask so many questions?" The stranger complained, though he didn't sound too annoyed.

"Just making conversation," Roman said lightly.

"Huh. Alright."

He led him back up the hill, to his home. Roman's house was comfortable and cosy, a haven of well-fitted logs and patterned curtains, and had smoke drifting from the chimney. With a flourish, he opened the door. "Come on in and dry off."

At that, the stranger flinched back. "Oh, I- I don't really- wouldn't that be- I don't want to impose."

"Sir, I think you need to calm down just slightly," Roman said. "It's alright!"

The stranger bristled like a cat, drawing his shoulders up to his ears. "Maybe I should go."

"I’m confused," Roman admitted.

"I'll go," the stranger repeated more firmly. He turned away from Roman, looking at the misty mountains in the distance. "Sorry."

"Can you...tell me what’s wrong?"

"I won't sit down and join you for a meal."

"At least get dry?" Roman offered. "You're soaking wet."

The man rubbed the back of his neck with an earth-stained hand. "I'm fine out here."

Roman closed his eyes for a moment and prayed for the strength to not insult the man, even though he badly wanted to. But, he did not have that luck. "I came to give you breakfast, not play cryptic-crossword puzzles with someone as pale as the paper they’re printed on."

The stranger let out a huff of laughter. "Fine. Whatever. It's the house. I don't want to be in it."

"What's wrong with my house?" Roman asked indignantly.

"Nothing!" the stranger assured him. "Nothing. I just...prefer not to have a roof over my head; dumb, I know."

"A little," Roman admitted, "but nothing I can't work with. Is that why you were...sleeping under the stars?"

The stranger made a sound of assent.

Roman shrugged. "You could’ve just said so. Sit! Sit down on the doorstep and I'll get you something!"

The stranger folded down to sit cross-legged a few steps away from the doorway. "Thank you. I do appreciate it."

"Chivalry is my middle name! Well, it's really Patton, after my dad, but we don't need to quibble about particulars."

That made the stranger laugh again, and Roman felt a rush of excitement at the sound. Maybe knighthood was out of bounds, but he liked to romanticise his father's hospitality. Now that he was an adult he was finally free to help others in the most dramatic way he could.

Roman crouched to stoke the fire, keeping the door open to talk to the stranger. "So, where are you hailing from?"

"Here and there."

"How about your family?"

"All over. Yours?"

"A few valleys over, actually," Roman said, cracking an egg into a pan with a pleasant sizzle. "We came over to stake this land for me when I was twenty."

"Anyone else here?"

"No, no-" Roman carefully put in a second egg. "I would have liked to live out here with friends, but everyone else had their own plans: marriage, town jobs, helping their families."

The stranger shrugged. "Eh, friends are overrated anyhow.”

“What’s better? Romance?” Roman scoffed.

“Spirits, no.” The stranger pulled a face. “Not my thing either. Friends are nice; being alone is nicer.”

“How stoic and standoffish off you.”

The stranger laughed. “I’ll be your friend here, then, for a little while.”

“That might be nice,” Roman said softly.

A playful breeze blew through the grass. He sneezed as it tumbled inside and tickled his face. He reached for a plate and piled it with the eggs, some bread, and cheese.

"Do you have a name?" the stranger asked him.

"Roman- unless I misremember."

"I'll remember."

"That's a little ominous," Roman said with a laugh.

"No, it's not," the stranger said simply. "Hospitality is not a bad thing to be remembered for." He stood up to take his plate from Roman, then settled back across from him.

"How about your name?" Roman asked.

"What begins with the end and ends with the beginning?" the stranger said.

"What?" Roman said slowly. "I don't know."

"Figure it out," the stranger said with a smirk, tearing off a hunk of his bread and popping it in his mouth. "Fuck," he breathed out, face suddenly losing about ten layers of cryptic protection and instead devoting itself to staring lovingly at the bread.

The shift in behaviour startled a laugh out of Roman. "It's still warm from baking."

"It's not bad," the stranger said, tearing off another piece and dipping it into the yolk of his egg with one hand while feeding himself some cheese with the other.

Roman decided to leave him free to eat, puzzling over what in the world began with the end and ended with the beginning. An ouroboros?

By the time the stranger had wolfed down the whole plate -which admittedly didn’t take very long - and regained a bit of colour in his face, Roman was as stumped as he had been in the beginning.

"So? What is your name? A...full stop, maybe?"

"Fucked if I know," the stranger said cheerfully. "I just didn't want you to bother me while I was eating. You can call me Virgil."

"You could have just asked me not to talk to you! You said you would be a friend!"

The stranger shrugged, almost embarrassed. "Thought you liked the cryptic thing." He answered after a beat too long.

"You could be more polite since I home-cooked that meal for you," Roman said indignantly.

"I don't owe you anything for the meal," Virgil said coolly. "That includes manners."

Roman rolled his eyes. "My deepest apologies."

"Don't need 'em." Virgil got to his feet and handed Roman his plate back. "Thank you very much for the meal. Genuinely."

"Well, keep the windows open for luck to blow in," Roman said. "Or the, uh, metaphorical windows anyhow."

"And open to let it take its leave again," Virgil finished the traditional farewell. "Literal windows for you."

"Do you want anything for the road?" Roman asked. "I could pack something?"

"Nah, I'll be fine," Virgil replied. He tugged the edges of his shirt over his wrists and slouched before he gave Roman a parting salute. "Bye, Roman."

Roman watched Virgil's back disappear down the road as he washed up, then threw open his windows to air his home as he began his day in earnest.

*

Roman did not expect to see Virgil again, as was the way of these things.

But a month or so later, as he dragged his chair outside to watch the sunset, a figure in white made its way up to his farm from the road. The evening was still and heavy, no clouds in the sky to block the oppressive heat.

The figure stopped just in front of him. "Hey Roman," he said, cupping the back of his neck. "I'm Virgil. Again."

"I remember you," Roman said, surprised. "No rooves, no manners, no cloak- if I'm not wrong?"

Virgil laughed through his nose. "And I still haven’t got any of those."

"What brings you here?"

"You do, I guess-" Virgil was still just wearing his white shirt, but he lifted it up to reveal a hidden leather pouch he'd tied around his middle. He opened it up and pulled out a handful of shining silver, which he tipped into Roman's palms. "A gift."

"Shrieking spirits, that's a lot!" Roman said. "I can't take that just for breakfast!"

"It's not a payment." Virgil folded his arms in offence. "I just said it's a gift."

Roman frowned. "But why?"  

"Good things should come to good people," he said simply.

"Don't you want to keep that?" Roman's brow furrowed. "At least buy a cloak, dude, it won't be summer forever. You could even buy land-"

"I don't want land, or a cloak." Virgil put a clammy hand over Roman's and closed the farmer's fingers over the silver. "Good things for good people, that's the only aim."

"...you're a good people."

It wasn't clear if Virgil was shaking his head to dispel his laughter or because he disagreed."Just take it. Okay?"

Roman did. "How did you come by it?"

"It’s a gift.” Virgil looked at Roman as though that settled the matter completely.

How would a vagabond know someone giving gifts like that? “From whom?” “A friend.”

"Is it stolen?" Roman said nervously. "I don't want to get in trouble with the law. That would not be a good thing."

"Promise you won't," Virgil said breezily.

"Okay," Roman said. "Okay." He turned over the smooth pieces of silver in his hand. "Luck blew in, I suppose..."

"It blew in for you, because I let it go out," Virgil said, as easily as he finished the farewell before. "That's the way to go."Overhead, there was a slight movement in the sky; an unreliable promise of rain and reprieve from the heat. "How's your farm?" Virgil asked.

"Alright," Roman said. "The soil is a little dry for the time of year, but I'll manage if it's back to normal soon. Hoping they bring me rain."

"It's all we can do," Virgil said with a nod. "Well, use the silver for whatever."

"Stay a little while?" Roman asked him. "Come on! We should celebrate! I have food leftover from dinner- I should thank you!"

Virgil wavered, then moved to tiptoe to reach the windows near Roman’s head. Time and food, presumably, had flushed his skin the same pink of the distant sunset against his white shirt- bang.

He jumped as Virgil opened his shutters.

Without a word, he then set out to the other side of Roman's house, and there was a corresponding bang as he opened the shutters on that side too.

Virgil made a full circuit to where Roman was sitting in thorough confusion. "For the spirits," he said simply. "You need rain, don't you? Silver won't buy you that."

"I must admit, Virgil," Roman said. "that you are beginning to worry me somewhat. Luck is a superstition. I do love a good story, but that doesn’t mean you have to go around just giving people things."

"Why not?" Virgil shrugged. "I could eat, if there’s food going. And your meadow is nice."

"I can keep the doors open," Roman offered. "And just drag my mattress to the doorway for you to have a decent rest, at least."

"No rooves," Virgil said.

"...can I at least ask why that is? Or how long you've done that?"

"No and no," Virgil said, crossing wrapping his arms over his chest.

"Maybe it's an avoidance thing," Roman posited. "If you tried a little bit of a roof-"

"No rooves," Virgil repeated firmly. "No rooves, no walls."

Roman got up from his chair and went into his kitchen for food. "No manners," he added, in a teasing tone. "And no cloak. Got it, got it-"

"Took you long enough." But Virgil was mollified.

By the time Roman came out, Virgil was sitting on the chair watching the sunset, the light of it reflecting against his skin.

"Seat-hog," Roman said, handing him the plate.

Virgil sat cross-legged and rested the plate in the middle of his legs. There was some spicy sausage, leftover cold potatoes, and a pile of preserved fruit with a little wall of bread crust around it so he could save it for dessert.

Virgil happily dipped a potato in the fruit, eliciting a pained noise from Roman.

"Why would you mix those?" he cried.

"Why not?"

"But why?"

"Why not?" Virgil repeated, carefully sandwiching some fruit between a piece of sausage and potato.

"But you're- it's all wrong-"

"Don't knock it till you try it."

"But I made a little battlement to keep the fruit separate-"

"I just gave you silver, don't tell me what to do."

"I tried so hard to make it nice-" Roman said with a melodramatic sigh.

"But I don’t care," Virgil said with a mischievous grin. "Fuck you." He popped his stack of food in his mouth, seeming to relish the clashing flavours and teasing Roman in equal measure.

Roman threw his hand to his chest with a dramatic noise of offence.

Virgil laughed, leaving off the fruit and tucking in properly. He had the same single-minded focus on this meal as he had the last one, an unabashed joy in it which, like anything else about him, was just to the left of normal.

"Have you been having enough to eat?" Roman couldn't help but ask.

"Me? Oh, sure," Virgil said. "I've been travelling here and there; don't worry about me."

"Any plans?" Roman asked, settling on the doorstep since it seemed Virgil wouldn't move from his chair. "Future dreams? For me- I want to set up an orchard! And long term...I don't know, I want to do something big and grand and heroic. It varies on the day, really."

There was quiet for a moment as Virgil finished his mouthful, then he stretched his arms upwards and held it for a moment, content. "I might head up the mountains, tomorrow. See what's there."

"Nothing else? Really?"

A breeze brushed against Roman's ankles, although the rest of the night was still, and it wound upwards to ruffle Virgil's hair before it disappeared again. "Maybe I'll find more good things for good people. Can't promise anything, though."

"How old are you, even?"

"Why's it matter?"

"Well, you won't be young forever," Roman pointed out. "I'm all for great and noble journeys! But- I see people in old age sleeping outside like you with no money, no savings, nowhere to go-"

"Great," Virgil interrupted him. "Maybe I'll meet some more of them and find some silver for them."

"Not my point." Roman was uncharacteristically serious.

Virgil ignored him and returned his focus to the food.

Roman was beginning to feel distinctly guilty for the silver in his pockets. "Even if you don't want to get tied down, at least get… get a horse, or something-"

"I'm happy," Virgil said firmly. "Okay?"

"On your own head be it," Roman grumbled.

"Which it is."

"You're insufferable," Roman said lightly.

"I know."

Roman waited until Virgil had finished up before he broached conversation again. "How far away have you gone? I've not been beyond these few valleys, I was hoping to travel more, but," He shrugged. "the farm needs me."

It was the right question. Virgil tilted his head and considered it. "I've been to the sea on both sides. Up to the mountains in the West. Didn't like the desert. Don't do cities anymore, but I went to as many as I could before now."

"The capital?"

"Yup."

"You have to tell me about it!" Roman said, excited. "The theatres and museums and...all of it."

Virgil rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, I'm- what do you want to know? I can't tell you anything a book wouldn't. Less, probably."

"What's your opinion?"

"I, uh- I liked the marketplaces. The people and the colours, and the more exotic goods...the theatre was alright too. I like tragedies, war stories, that kind of thing."

"Have a favourite?"

"...I dunno."

"What do you like about them?"

"Sad and scary stuff can be interesting, cathartic, you know- I think that you can do more with them, I guess."

"I can see that!" Roman said. "I like a happy ending though."

"I think they're overrated."

"Do you have a favourite sad ending?"

Virgil began to talk more about a famous love tragedy and its subversions of genre, and Roman, genuinely interested, drew him out on the subject until it was exhausted. Just as it seemed they were done, Virgil ventured a story about an incident on the Northern Road of his own accord, and the flow of the conversation continued.

Once the sun had well and truly fallen down from the sky, Roman began to yawn. "I might have to turn in; there's work tomorrow. Sleep over, let's have breakfast together tomorrow."

"Sure," the vagrant said, pushing himself to his feet with a fluid movement. "I'll see you then."

Roman resisted the urge to offer a blanket, and waved Virgil goodnight. He closed his door but not his shutters, figuring he might as well invite in the spirits of luck and rain. When he was younger he’d wanted to believe in them, leaving the shutters open and sometimes waking up with his dad’s homemade candy under the pillow. But now he knew that if they weren’t kids’ fairy stories they were at most metaphors about opportunity and the vagaries of fortune.

Roman woke up to gentle pattering on his roof and the wind spitting raindrops onto his face through the windows. He stumbled up to bang the windows shut before tucking himself back in.

He felt like he was forgetting something. Had he fed the chickens...

Virgil! Oh, that was it. He tugged his bedclothes into a cloak as he opened up the door and peeked out at his fields.

There was still a pale figure lying in the middle of the meadow.

"Fool," Roman said, between fond and exasperated, and checked the sky for what the pattern of rain would be that day. Not long; it seemed. The clouds were already mostly centred above the farm; the distant sky was blue and clear.

He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Virgil!" he yelled over the pattering rain. "Oh, Virgil!"

The figure startled up, throwing his hands over his head as if the rain would beat him.

"Virgil!" Roman yelled again. "At least find a tree?"

After a moment, Virgil uncurled and looked over to where Roman was.

"What?" he snapped.

"It's raining!" Roman called, a little redundantly. "Find a tree!"

"Find your own bloody tree!" Virgil threw himself back onto the ground, pointedly turning away from Roman.

"I am going to murder him," Roman muttered to himself. "The art of chivalry! The gratitude of a guest! Oh, but these things are so passé..."

He closed the door and started getting ready for the day. Pulling on his cloak, Roman headed out to feed his chickens. He went through his morning chores, trying to focus on the smell of petrichor and damp earth as well as the hiss of rain in the way his father had taught him. Simply paying attention to his senses helped him to dispel anger or anxiety.

He had just scattered the feed when- "Rabid roosters!" Roman screamed as Virgil appeared at his elbow.

"I've not got time for breakfast," Virgil said. He looked like the victim of a poorly-executed drowning. "I'm leaving."

"All because I woke you up?" Roman asked, pressing a hand over his racing heart. "No need to try and shock me!"

"Didn't try, I succeeded," Virgil said with a small smile. "And no, I do actually have to leave."

"For what?"

"For nothing; I'll go for free," Virgil quipped. He turned and walked away. No wonder he had surprised Roman; he made barely any noise as he walked.

"I think you quite like being dramatic," Roman said. "And I think that you could do quite well in one of your tragedies, you have a talent for theatrics."

"Oh really?"

"I'm sorry I woke you up- I just didn't want you to be soaked through. Is that so evil?"

Virgil spread his arms. "Because I wasn't soaked through before."

"Just stay for breakfast," Roman asked. "Why are you making such a big deal of it?"

Virgil's eyes narrowed. "I'm not; you are."

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the meadow," Roman said, sotto voce.

Virgil mimicked his tone, widening his eyes for emphasis. "Someone woke up being yelled at."

"Fine!" Roman said. "Keep the windows open for luck to blow in."

Virgil folded his arms. "And open to let it leave again."

So Virgil left in anger, and Roman was left to mull over it as he startled the chickens with a handful of violently thrown feed.

*

The third time Virgil came was only three weeks later.

It was a day where the sky seemed higher than usual, wide and blowsy with scudding clouds in patchwork colours. Wind rippled an ocean of grass into rolling waves.

Roman was pacing the perimeter of his property, checking the fences for damage, when a distinctive white-shirted figure came into view on the road from the mountains.

"Hey." Virgil saluted Roman with two fingers as he reached him, leaning over his fence. "Are we good now?"

Roman blew out a breath with a laugh, waving a hand. "That was ages ago, ages and ages and ages."

Virgil raised an eyebrow. "You don't sound that good."

"I admit, I was somewhat...perturbed."

"Sorry.” Roman figured that was as much of an apology as he’d get, but at least it sounded sincere. “I was passing this way and I figured...might as well say hi."

Well, it wasn't like Roman got a lot of visitors. "Hi," he said, "I'm a little busy for now, but you can come around with me."

Virgil hopped over the fence with ease. "Okay."

Roman carried on his stroll. "So- did you see those mountains?"

"I did," Virgil said, "The sunrise was pretty from up there, but I don't know if all the climbing was worth it."

"I guess you have to do the climbing to know."

Virgil looked at Roman properly. "Smart."

"Oh. Thank you." Roman grinned. "And I used your silver to plant my orchard. I'm starting with apples."

"Nice."

That time, Roman didn't so much as offer for Virgil to come inside, and he let Virgil sleep in as long as he liked out in the meadow.

It rained after Virgil left, and Roman began to wonder.

A few months later, Virgil came back. He gave Roman sticks of cinnamon from distant markets for his apples, and wouldn't take a blanket for the night although his skin was freezing to the touch.

Maybe if they had to spend more time together then Virgil's contrary ways and Roman's short fuse would spark fights of more consequence. As it was, if Virgil left after a fight then both were over it by the time he returned for a plate of food and some conversation. They both liked theatre, they could bicker like anything, and friendship grew easily between them.

*

It was an autumn day, and Roman was picking apples when he heard the lightest of footsteps behind him.

"They look good."

Roman turned with a grin and tossed an apple down to Virgil. "All thanks to you. How are you?"

"Alright." Virgil bit into the apple and gave Roman a thumbs up. "Not bad."

"Not bad? Rubies are not redder! The grass is not more green! Honey not swee-" The ladder wobbled as Roman threw his hand out, and Virgil rushed forward to grab the base. Roman teetered in the air for a moment, until he grabbed onto a branch.

"Idiot," Virgil snapped, though Roman could hear the worry in his voice.

"Honey," Roman repeated breathlessly, "is not more sweet."

"Idiot." Virgil picked his apple off the ground and brushed the dirt off on his shirt.

"Let me guess," Roman said, climbing down the ladder, "you've already hit no manners."

"I never left no manners," Virgil said through a mouth full of apple.

"Charming."

Virgil grinned at him. "You know it."

Up close, Virgil looked exhausted. His permanent eye bags were dark as rain clouds, and he seemed to have lost the colour in his face that summer had given him. But there was nothing Roman's stranger hated more than a direct line of questioning. "What have you been up to?"

"This and that," Virgil said. "Trying...new things."

"What kind of new things?"

Virgil shrugged. "Helping more people in a bigger way."

"But I'm your favourite person you help?" Roman teased with a grin.

"Shut up," Virgil said, ducking under his overgrown fringe, and that was more of a confirmation than a yes would have been.

Roman laughed triumphantly. "Ah! You do love me!"

Virgil scowled. "You just have food."

"That's what they say about stray cats, but I chose to believe I can speak in feline whispers."

Virgil laughed through his nose. "So you can cat-whisper me?"

"When you hiss it means 'fuck off'," Roman said solemnly.

Virgil laughed again. "That it does."

"Who are the other people that are feeding you throughout the land?" Roman asked.

"There's an innkeeper in the West," Virgil said. "She always says I'm too skinny, and she collects little figurines so I bring them to her from all over. And, uh, if I need to buy things there's a pie shop I like who'll take shiny rocks for their kid. And anyone who lets their trees grow over into the road is kind of giving the fruit. Sometimes I offer to help out people and they offer food."

"But spirits forbid they pay you with it."

Virgil shrugged. "I don't mind jobs. I just prefer not to get stuck places."

"See? Cat."

"Maybe so." Virgil tugged another apple off Roman's tree without asking, then tossed it into the basket. "Can I stay tonight?"

"Of course."

Virgil smiled at Roman, eyes scrunching up.

Roman gave him a slow blink back in cat-smile, before breaking off with a laugh. "You know, you can help me out here or keep on talking from where you are, I don't mind."

"I'll help, as long as I get to go up the ladder."

"Sure."

Virgil scaled the ladder easily, and the leaves murmured contentedly among themselves as he began to stretch for the fruit Roman had missed. They worked together through the golden afternoon, chatting easily and piling the basket with apples.

As they reached the final tree, Roman moved around to the back of it, showing Virgil where a crack in the bark had begun to let in rot. "I tried everything," Roman said. "I think it might just become a glorious martyr for the others, so the rot doesn't spread."

Virgil tilted his head as he looked at the tree. "It's still mostly good...maybe it will go away by itself."

"You really think so?"

"I mean, I'm not sure, but maybe." Virgil nodded his head in consideration before turning back to Roman. "If that's us done, let's get dinner."

"Let's make Roman make you dinner, you mean," Roman teased.

"Or that," Virgil said. "I have, uh-"  He opened up his hidden pouch and pulled out some twists of paper. "More spices for you. Also-" He pulled out a little sparkly rock. "Cool rock!"

"Thank you! It is cool!" Roman said, accepting the gifts. "Come on, you can sit outside and peel potatoes with me. Earn your keep."

"I don't have a keep to earn," Virgil said sharply. A shadow fell over his face. "Not even as a joke."

"Fine, fine." Roman rolled his eyes at Virgil’s touchiness. "I'll do all of the potatoes, again-"

"I didn't say I wouldn't help you, just- forget it." Virgil set the apple-basket on his hip and started back to the house ahead of Roman. "How's your dad doing these days?"

"He's well." Roman chose to take the obvious diversion. "The family dog had puppies, so he's delighted at that."

Roman brought out a low stool for Virgil and they worked through the pile of potatoes together.

Roman liked to be neat, but Virgil was almost obsessive, carefully scraping off the thinnest layer of skin he could and digging out eyes with the very tip of his knife.

"You have done three in the time it took me to finish my pile."

Virgil looked up, as if surprised Roman was still there. "I'm just doing it right!"

"I thought you were hungry."

"I can do them quicker if you like, jeez." Virgil took off a more reasonable strip of skin. "Look, you lose half the potato."

"Must you argue about everything?"

The corner of Virgil’s mouth quirked up. "It takes two to argue, Roman."

"You argue enough for two people," Roman teased back, standing up and going over to the fire. "I'm going to start or the sun will start setting by dinner-time."

"Alright, alright!" Virgil said."I'm speeding up."

The afternoon began to slip away into a cool evening as they settled down to eat. Roman sat near the fire, leaving Virgil to balance his plate on the doorstep.

"Where are the spices from?"

"One from a peddler, one from a shop, one...I think was a gift?"

"You'd better not be poisoning me," Roman said, giving Virgil a mock-stern look.

Virgil laughed. "I make no promises."

The fire snapped and danced with the wind. Roman shifted closer to the fire and started on his potatoes. "So- where next?"

"I don't know," Virgil said. "Maybe the coast again, before winter sets in."

Roman met Virgil���s eyes, voice softening with his concern so as not to spook his stranger. "Do you have somewhere to stay when it snows?"

Virgil shrugged. "No, but I'll figure things out."

"You could stay here," Roman offered. "Not for long, just so that I know you're not freezing somewhere."

"I'll be fine, Roman," Virgil said, meeting his eyes. "I appreciate it, I really do, but I'll be fine."

Roman had a few snarky responses to that lined up, but he didn’t want the conversation to be carried away into bickering. He needed Virgil to know he was serious. "I worry about you."

"I worry about myself; I don't need you to. I always come back here in one piece, don't I?"

"I suppose so." Roman took Virgil's empty plate in for washing. "Still, you also come back hungry and cold, so forgive me for not being entirely convinced."

Virgil shrugged. "Not that hungry and not that cold. I'm going to go and sleep for now, if that's okay?"

Roman sighed. "Sure, but we'll finish talking in the morning."

Virgil rolled his eyes.

"All I offer is to help you!" Roman protested.

"And I appreciate it," Virgil replied earnestly before he got up. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight.”

Roman woke up to the sound of rain and banging on his door.

He stumbled out of bed, tugging open the door to see Virgil, silhouetted by the darkness. "Roman! Roman- something's happening-" Virgil broke off as if the air had been pulled from his lungs and he reached out a hand to grab Roman's as he fought for breath. "I- you need to get me out of here, you need to try and move me and I can't- no time to explain just-"

The instant Roman stepped forward to take Virgil's hands his vision flashed white.