#I am going to personally maim whoever buys this

[grimmgrinningghouls]

FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

[cgleome]

Fun and Games (Valerius/Fem Apprentice)

Valerius has developed an interest in the local witch. Things come to a head during a game of chess and they decide to have some naughty fun. WARNINGS: LEMON, FEM DOM, S&M, D/S, SPANKING, SLAPPING, SCRATCHING, BONDAGE, HUMILIATION, HAIR PULLING, ... probably more.

Valerius spun his wine glass in his hand, holding it up to the light to admire the way the sun reflected through it. He had been waiting for the witch for some time. It wasn’t that she was late, but he found himself eager to see her and so had been sitting by the chess board for at least an hour, hoping she might arrive early. 

Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching and pulled out a small mirror, taking a moment to make sure his hair and clothes were arranged properly before she entered the room.

“Ah!” Valerius exclaimed when she approached, removing her hat and cloak. “Good afternoon, Pearl. I’m glad to see you’re on time. You know I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

“And I don’t like to keep others waiting, if I can help it,” Pearl replied with a smile as she accepted the glass of wine Valerius offered her.

“A most respectable attitude to take,” Valerius spoke as he gestured towards the seat across from him.

They played quietly for a while. They had added their own rules to their regular games: they took turns meeting at one another’s homes and whoever hosted also provided the wine. They also had a rule that whenever one player took another’s piece, the player who took the piece got to ask the other a question which the player losing the piece had to answer. It was through their games that Valerius had come to find the witch… interesting. Not only was she a clever conversation partner in her own right, but there was a level of trust that had been built up between them. Trust was something the Consul was not accustomed to, though he was beginning to find it far more pleasant that he would like to admit.

Pearl took the first piece and smiled up at Valerius.

“Valerius, when was the last time you took a lover?”

The consul nearly choked on his wine. The question had taken him by surprise and he had to stop and think.

“I suppose it has been over 3 years ago now,” he mused after attempting to do the math in his head.

“Why so long?” Pearl asked as they returned to their game. It was not unusual for the questions to lead to further conversation and while the rules did not require either player to answer more than one question, they would often offer more details, provided it was information they didn’t mind giving.

“I suppose I found most of my lovers rather disappointing,” Valerius continued. “And I’m not the sort of person who will bed just anyone.”

Valerius then took Pearl’s pawn and smiled at her, taking a sip of his wine.

“So, Witch, same question. When did you last take a lover?”

“Last night,” Pearl answered without batting an eye.

Valerius spit out his wine in a most inelegant spray. Whatever answer he was expecting, it was NOT that and a wave of emotions washed over him. Anger and jealousy soon rose to the top.

“Forgive me,” he spoke, pulling out a handkerchief in an effort to clean up the mess he’d made, relieved to see that Pearl seemed to have stayed out of the line of fire. “I was not aware that you had a partner.”

Sadness was taking over for the other emotions. Valerius’s heart sunk, though he silently berated himself for being foolish enough to have come to care for Pearl enough to be hurt by this news.

“I don’t,” she assured him. “He was simply a man I met at the tavern. I’m not even sure how to contact him again. It was purely physical. Nothing more.”

Valerius looked at her, trying very hard not to imagine the things she had done with a stranger less than 24 hours before. He didn’t realize he was staring as he weighed his options. He wanted to tell her that she could come to him, if ever she felt the need for THAT kind of companionship, but he was also unsure if he really felt safe enough to volunteer that information. What if she rejected him? What if she never came? It was bad enough knowing she had slept with a stranger when the consul had no reason to be jealous. Knowing she might still prefer a stranger when he had already volunteered his services would be positively unbearable.

Pearl fought the urge to laugh and barely hid her smile. She had not expected this kind of a reaction from Valerius at all. It was intriguing.

“I didn’t mean to shock you,” she added, taking a sip of wine to hide her grin. “I didn’t realize you were so… modest.” She hesitated, finally settling on “modest” after ruling out “prudish” and “old-fashioned.” Valerius was certainly entitled to his beliefs and preferences, even if Pearl didn’t share them. 

“It’s not a question of modesty,” Valerius spoke as he turned his attention back to their game.“ As I said before, I too have taken lovers in the past. I merely abandoned such endeavors in recent years after a long series of disappointments. But what about you, Witch, was this man that you met in the bar worth the effort for you?”

As he spoke, Valerius held up one of Pearl’s pieces that he had just taken, indicating that this was the question she was now required to answer.

Pear shrugged, taking a sip of wine while she considered the question.

“Yes and no, I suppose,” she replied at last. “I did enjoy it; however, it was not particularly memorable…. The anticipation, and imagining how it might be was fun though the act itself was perhaps no better than what I could have achieved on my own. So, in that regard, I can see where you’re coming from.”

Valerius found he could not make eye contact now and he took a particularly long drink of wine and them buying himself more time as he refilled his glass. The consul was doing his best to hide the blush that now covered his face. He now had the image of Pearl pleasuring herself in his mind. He would DEFINITELY be returning to that image later. Still, right now with her sitting across from him, he found it incredibly inconvenient.

“I believe it is not only that,” Valerius spoke now, more to fill the silence than anything. “I have always been rather particular about my partners. I find that sex leaves me entirely too vulnerable to wish to engage in it with just anyone.”

“So, you like the intimacy then?”

“It’s not intimacy, per se. I’m hardly the romantic sort, when it comes to sex.”

“Then what sorts of sexual things do you like, Consul?” Pearl asked, as she tapped the chess piece she had just claimed against her cheek.

Valerius now found himself at a bit of a loss. He knew perfectly well what he enjoyed but, he was reluctant to tell Pearl. Really, he was far too interested in her. He didn’t wish to say anything that might put her off. He wished he’d thought to ask her first so that he could simply recite her own desires back to her. Despite refusing to take a lover for so long do to his repeated disappointments, if he had stopped to think about it, he would realize that he could not imagine any sexual scenario with Pearl that would leave him wanting.

“It depends somewhat on my partner,” he spoke at last. “With the right partner, I am will to try almost anything. Though I do like a bit of excitement… If I’m going to go to the trouble of fixing my hair, putting on my best boa and stockings, the very least I expect would be someone to ruin my hair and ensure those stockings will not survive to see another banquet. I guess you could say that I like it rough. I enjoy a lover who won’t treat me like I’m made of glass. I guess one could say that I’m the submissive sort. I enjoy being hurt and humiliated. I suppose that’s where trusting my partner comes into play. I have no desire to do those things with a partner I don’t trust.”

It was Pearl’s turn to stare at her gaming partner in disbelief. She always considered Valerius to be an attractive man but the image of the proud haughty consul begging to be completely disheveled and disgraced did things to her she had not realized she wanted. The witch bit her lip as she looked him over lustfully. Valerius saw the ways she was staring at him and decided to make his move. She was clearly interested and liked what she heard. Now it just remained to be seen if she was willing to go further.

The consul held up his wine glass, pouring the wine over the front of his clothing. 

“Oh, how clumsy of me,” he spoke in a tone that showed no hint of remorse.

Valerius rose and began to remove his soiled wrap and overcoat.

“I seem to require some time to make myself presentable,“ he spoke as he undressed. “Please help yourself to more wine and if you happen to see anything else that you like, don’t hesitate to use it as you will.”

The invitation was not lost on Pearl who looked down at their game to confirm what she already knew. 

“Checkmate,” she spoke moving her piece to take Valerius’s queen, leaving him with nowhere to move that would protect him from her further advances. She stood, taking the captured queen with her.

“Allow me,” she spoke, reaching to replace Valerius’s hands with her own as he skillfully untied the laces on his overcoat. 

“If you have a safe word, you’d better tell me now,” she stated, keeping eye contact with the consul as she slowly began to remove his clothing.

“I have no need for such things,” Valerius sneered. “If you displease me, I will ask you to stop in plain English.”

“Indulge me,” Pearl cooed in a way that caused the consul to go weak in the knees. “Scratching, biting, hair pulling, name calling, slapping, hitting, spanking, bondage, butt play, oral sex. Do any of these appeal to you? And how fond are you of this chess set and that outfit?”

Valerius bit his lip now, convinced he would faint if they didn’t move things along more quickly.

“All of them appeal to me a great deal. Though I trust you’re not all talk and no action. I don’t mind replacing the set or my clothes, if you make it worth it to me to do so. I don’t mind a bit of blood and bruises but I don’t wish to be maimed. I also don’t desire to be put on display, though I do like a little embarrassment in front of the right person.”

He grinned as he spoke and Pearl grinned back. They were so busy looking at one another that Valerius didn’t notice how she had wrapped his braid around her hand. She gave a firm tug, surprising the consul and exposing a generous portion of his neck, which Pearl promptly bit down hard on.

Valerius gave a deep sensual moan. GODS YES! How long had he wanted this? His body came to life at once in response to her. Already, she was proving to be more than he’d hoped for and they’d barely even started yet. It was as though he’d been dying to drink for four years and she was finally quenching his thirst.

Reaching down, Pearl grabbed the front of his tunic with both hands and ripped, exposing a generous portion of her lover’s chest.

Valerius threw his head back with a loud moan. He loved this! His servants would have to bring him some new clothes and the thought only excited him further. He loved the feeling of being exposed and vulnerable by having his clothing torn off. 

Pearl growled as she continued to tear at his clothing, leaving the consul in only his underwear.

Valerius’s body began to shiver and he threw himself down on the couch with his hands above his head. Loose strands of hair were falling out of his braid, his face was flushed, and he was starting to pant.

“Do your worst, witch!” He challenged her and Pearl looked him over with a smirk. 

“You’re such a delicious slut, Consul. This look suits you. You try to act so respectable, but now your true colors are starting to show.”

“Don’t call me a slut until you’ve fucked me,” Valerius sneered, although he was deeply enjoying everything about this interaction. 

“Oh?” Pearl smirked in a way Valerius would not have thought her capable of. She was generally so kind but, at that moment, she looked positively wicked. “Is that what you want, Consul? Would you like to be fucked?” 

As she spoke, Pearl crawled on top of him, she avoided touching him but kept herself dangerously close. She moved her face to his, smelling the wine on his breath. The hopeless lost look on his face was mesmerizing and so at odds with his usual haughty persona.

“Yes,” he answered breathlessly, unable to act proud now that she was so close and offering him exactly what he wanted.

If it were possible, Pearl’s smile grew even crueler.

“Beg me,” she commanded, grabbing his wrists and holding them above his head.

Valerius’s expression changed after she spoke. He was annoyed by how confident she was. Although, he desperately wanted her, he was not so far gone that he could beg without feeling self-conscious about it.

“Make me,” he demanded, the challenge shining in his eyes.

Pearl’s eyes darkened and Valerius barely had time to register that she had released his wrists before he felt the slap across his face.

It was rough, hard enough it might leave a mark and sent a jolt of pleasure down to his groin.

Without missing a beat, Pearl reached down Valerius’s underwear and grabbed his cock, stroking him hard and fast. 

Valerius cried out, and his body jolted forward. He was gasping for breath and getting close to completion when they had barely started. Not only had Valerius not taken a lover in many years, he had not been keeping up well enough with his own needs and it would not take very much to send him over the edge.

As quickly as it started, Pearl stopped, releasing him and causing Valerius to cry out again, only this time in frustration. His over-heated body begging for release and he bit his lip, barely able to resist the urge to grab his own length and finish himself off.

“BEG!” Pearl ordered once more and this time, Valerius didn’t hesitate.

“GODS PLEASE! DON’T STOP! PLEASE! I’LL DO ANYTHING YOU WISH!” 

Valerius meant it too. It wasn’t just that he wanted to be finished, but he wanted to know what else she had in store for him. His body ached and he was ready for whatever she commanded him to do.

Pearl slapped him again and then reached up to grab his neck. Valerius moaned and bit his lip, the slap nearly as arousing as her touch had been.

“You dare ask for something after you refused me once?” She asked, cruelty dripping from every word, causing Valerius to tremble uncontrollably. “You should be begging for forgiveness.”

“I will beg your forgiveness,” Valerius promised breathlessly, meeting her gaze to show just how serious he was.

“Strip and get on your knees,” Pearl commanded, moving away so Valerius could oblige.

The consul quickly pulled away his underwear, casting them aside before he fell to his knees. Valerius put both hands down before him and lowered his head while facing her. He didn’t need to act, since now he was truly contrite and desperately wanted to apologize so that Pearl would finish what she had begun.

“I beg your forgiveness,” he spoke softly to the ground. “It was wrong and foolish of me. I will do whatever you ask, if I can be forgiven.”

Normally, Valerius would never dream of speaking like this. He would be mortified by the very thought of it, but the humiliation only made it all the more appealing to him now. 

“Sit up,” Pearl spoke, giving no indication of whether or not his words had reached her.

Valerius did as he was told, still on his knees, Valerius sat up and faced her. Pearl was sitting on the sofa, so she was still slightly above him.

“Hands behind your back,” Pearl commanded, and Valerius quickly complied, giving Pearl a clear view of his nude body and fully erect cock. 

“Aren’t you ashamed?” Pearl mocked. “Aren’t you embarrassed to be naked begging to be fucked by me?”

“I would endure any humiliation if it meant you would fuck me,” Valerius replied, looking into her eyes without blinking. At that moment, he meant it. 

Pearl tried and failed to hide the smirk that tugged at her lips with how pleased these words made her.

“Lay yourself across my lap ass up,” she commanded. “If it’s humiliation you want, I will humiliate you further.” 

Valerius nodded and did as he was told, draping himself across her lap. He wasn’t sure what Pearl had in mind, though he should not have been as surprised as he was when he felt her hand firmly slap against his ass.

Valerius gasped and barely had time to recover before another slap came. And another. And another. He bit his lip, doing his best not to cry out with each slap. His cock pressed against Pearl, and he knew that she could feel just how much he enjoyed this.

Once his ass was the perfect shade of red, Pearl reached down to grab a fistful of her lover’s hair, pulling his head firmly back and causing him to cry out. 

“Such a perverted consul,” Pearl taunted. “You enjoy this, don’t you? It’s making your cock hard. Tell me what you want. Beg me for it!”

“Fuck me!” Valerius cried out, the desperation clear in his voice. “Please fuck me! Your abuse is making my perverted cock hard and I want to cum!”

Pearl smiled at him, although her lover couldn’t see it. This was convenient since she didn’t want to let him know just how pleased she was with his behavior. 

“Spread your ass for me,” She ordered. “Spread your ass and then tell me what you want me to do to you.”

The consul reached back with both hands, spreading himself as she had requested.

“Please fuck me!” He begged once more. “Use me however you wish. My body is yours to play with. Please use me and fuck me as you like.” 

Pearl smiled once more as she reached for the queen she had set aside earlier, the piece she had taken that won her their game.

“This look suits you very well,” she mused, moving the piece to Valerius’s lips. “SUCK!” She commanded, slipping the piece into his mouth.

Valerius obeyed at once, even moaning around it. He wanted so much more than this, but hoped, if he did well, he would be rewarded. 

Without a word, Pearl moved the piece away and the consul gasped when he felt something hard press against the hole that he was still offering to her.

Pearl smirked wickedly as she shoved the piece in, leaving the base out to make it easy to remove when the time came.

Valerius moaned, body clenching around the new invasion. He wasn’t sure if it was the sensation of having something so hard shoved into his ass or the embarrassment of it that excited him so much, but he moved his hips without meaning to, moaning and savoring the feel of it.

Pearl laughed openly at him now.

“On your back,” she demanded with a final slap to his ass. “If you want to fuck me, you have to earn it.”

Valerius nodded, though the gesture was lost as he quickly got up and lay on the floor, offering himself to his lover.

Pearl made show of walking around him, surveying her lover from above. She then walked over to take a sip of her forgotten wine glass.

Valerius bit his lip, fighting the urge to beg for some attention, but he feared the punishment that would come if he upset her again. 

Pearl then surveyed the consul’s damaged clothing. She lifted his torn tunic and began to tear it some more, tearing strips of cloth from it.

Valerius was so aroused that even the noise of fabric tearing turned him on. 

Pearl then walked over to him. She tied one hand to the foot of the soft and the other to the leg of a nearby recliner.

Pearl looked down at him again, his eyes were wide and pleading. His face was flushed and his lips slightly parted as though he was fighting with himself not to beg her again. His hair had come loose from his braid and lay around him in messy waves. 

“This look definitely suits you,” Pearl mused again as she began to unfasten the sash around her pants. 

Valerius gasped and pulled slightly on his restraints without meaning to. He caught himself and quickly stopped, doing his best to lay still.

“So eager,” Pearl teased. “you don’t even know what I have planned for you.” 

“I believe there is nothing you could do to me that I would not enjoy,” Valerius spoke, the truth of his words hanging heavy in the air.

Pearl smirked as she pulled away her pants and underwear, tossing them aside.

“If you want me,” she told him, straddling his body but bending down so that she could look into his eyes, “you have to earn it.” Saying this, she moved to straddle his head.  “Pleasure me!”

“Yes…” her lover gasped reverently as she lowered her body over his head.

Consul Valerius was very good at this. Pearl had not expected this. He had not taken a lover in so long, she had anticipated that he would not be particularly skillful but she was terribly mistaken. It crossed her mind that the consul was right to hold his lovers to such high standards when he himself was this good. 

“Oh yes!” She cried, unafraid of letting him know that he was doing well. She reached down and grabbed his hair, using her grip to guide his actions. “It seems you do have your uses, Consul,” she teased.

Just for fun, Pearl pulled away, watching as her lover’s head crane as he attempted to reach her. She slapped him as she had done before.

“BEG!” She commanded. “Beg me to let you pleasure me!”

“Fuck!” He cried in desperation. “Please let me lick you! Let me pleasure you. You’ve found a use for me, so use me… please.”

Pearl smiled as she positioned herself over him once more, guiding him by the hair as she fucked his face. She reached down, running her nails from his abdomen up to his chest, and making him moan. When she saw that he liked this, she did it again and again. Finally, when she came, she dug deep enough to leave red marks across his body.

Once she had ridden out her orgasm, Pearl moved away from him. She smiled down at him and reached down, gently running her fingertips up and down the length of his cock. It was enough to tease and caused her lover to tremble beneath her.

“Be proud of those marks, Valerius,” she teased. 

Hearing his name on her lips made the man’s eyes flutter shut. “They mean you were able to make me cum.” 

“Yes…” he sighed and began to gasp at the way she was teasing his cock. “Please…” he added softly. “Please… I want more…”

“Mmm…” the woman purred. “Naughty…”

Pearl moved down and rubbed against him replacing the hand on her lover’s cock with her body. 

Valerius’s eyes rolled back and he cried out as Pearl reached up to pinch his nipples, twisting them roughly.

Valerius’s back arched and he cried out.

“Buck or try to enter me and I’ll stop,” Pearl threatened. 

Valerius looked at her and his mouth opened. He was about to protest. This was too cruel. However, Pearl stopped her movements and gave him a threatening look. He knew with every fiber of his being that she meant it.

“I’ll be good,” he promised softly. “Please use me as you will... Please…” 

“Good boy,” Pearl cooed as she started to move again.

“Tell me,” she spoke after Valerius’s eyes had closed again, forcing him to look at her. “What is your fantasy, Valerius? Tell me what you desire in your most private moments.”

Pearl was not prepared for his answer.

“You,” her lover replied, looking up at her with pure reverence in his face. “I have wanted you longer and more fondly than I care to admit. And not just today. I want you always.”

Valerius’s face had grown even more flushed and there were tears in his eyes now. He had not dared to admit this, even to himself. As Pearl looked at him, one of the tears that had threatened to spill from his eyes rolled down his cheek.

Despite herself, Pearl was lost. She leaned down, capturing her lover’s lips as she adjusted her position so that she could take him fully. 

They both made loud noises of pleasure but did not break their kiss. 

Finally, Pearl moved away, sitting up to ride him properly.

The image of her pleasuring herself on his body, face flushed, panting… it was too much and Valerius began to thrust despite himself. 

Pearl slapped him across the face for breaking a rule but could not bring herself to stop riding him. She was far too close now.

Valerius cried out in pleasure at the slap and it sent him over the edge. Despite herself, Pearl followed him, loving the thrill of hitting her lover and how much he enjoyed the pain. She moved erratically as they both rode out their orgasms. Pearl took a few moments for them both to catch their breath before reaching to untie her lover.

Valerius’s mind had begun to clear from its lust-filled haze and he was feeling incredibly self-conscious.

“Thank you,” he mumbled once he was untied. He rubbed his wrists and looked away, unable to face Pearl after what they had done.

Pearl put a hand on his shoulder and then reached up to move some of his hair out of his face and behind his ear.

“Did I do anything that was too much or you didn’t like?” She asked. Her tone was soft and serious now, not at all like she had spoken to him earlier.

“I enjoyed it all very much,” Valerius replied, still looking away from her. “You did not do anything out of line.”

The consul ran his fingers through his hair, making an attempt to straighten it. He was suddenly very much aware of his own nakedness and feeling rather self-conscious. He shifted and felt the chess piece still wedged in his ass. 

“May I remove this now?” he asked, unsure if it was necessary to ask permission at this point.

“Of course,” Pearl replied, looking around and finding her lover’s cloak, which she wrapped around him to give him some coverage until he could fetch him proper clothing. 

“I’ll be right back,” she assured him as she quickly dressed and headed out the door. 

Valerius was unsure of what to do once she was gone, not that he had had truly known how to act when she was there. He removed the chess piece from his ass and fiddled with the edge of the cloak. He was trying hard not to think of anything in particular, fearing that if he did so, he would crack. He felt vulnerable, exposed, and wanted comfort. However, he was too ashamed to ask for it. He wanted Pearl to stay with him, but feared her rejection too much to ask it of her. She had pulled the confession of his feelings from him but Pearl had no way of knowing if his feelings were genuine or if they were simply spoken in the heat of the moment. He had no reason to think that this meant anything to her. It was clear from her fling the night before that sex meant nothing to her and the thought was too painful for Valerius in his vulnerable state.

Pearl returned quickly with two towels, a robe, some water, and a brush.

“I told the servants that you spilled wine on clothing and asked them to draw you a bath,” she explained.

She lay the robe down near him and then took a towel, which Valerius realized was damp and warm, and began to gently rub his face with it.

It felt nice. Too nice and Valerius refused to let himself sink into the comfort of it. Doing so might break him.

“That’s not necessary,” he spoke, quickly pushing her and the towel away. 

His face was still turned and Pearl was easily able to tell something was wrong. 

“Valerius,” she spoke softly, putting fingers under his chin to force him to look at her. She searched his face for a moment, taking in his lost expression before silently pulling him into an embrace, resting his head against her chest.

“I don’t need this,” the consul spoke coldly, though he made no effort to pull away from her. 

“I do,” she replied, gently running her fingers through his hair and resting a cheek on his head. “Humor me.”

“If you insist,” Valerius sighed though his body remained stiff against her.

After a few moments, Pearl realized he wasn’t going to relax and she sighed, pulling away from him. 

Unsure of what else to do, she rose from their awkward embrace and finished her wine in a large gulp.

“You don’t have to act so cold all the time,” she said, the first signs of genuine frustration she’d expressed all day creeping into her voice. She straightened her clothes and reached for her hat and cloak. Valerius realized she was preparing to leave.

She walked over to him and caressed his cheek, the one that was not sore from her previous abuse.

“If you ever decide you want some warmth and tenderness… I’m good for that too.” She informed him and although her voice was cold, it cracked slightly at the end and Valerius caught a glimpse of the pain behind her words. 

Pearl moved away from him and started to leave. It was her turn to attempt to hide her face from her lover but Valerius grabbed her waist, pulling her back towards him and holding her body against his.

“I want that…” his voice shook and his body trembled as he held her close. Although he still could not look at her, he allowed himself to surrender to the warmth of the embrace. Pearl relaxed too, settling against him once more. Perhaps she would not stay with him forever, but she was here now and for the moment, that was enough.

[lance-kitkat]

Is there gonna be a part 3 of the soulmate au?

Keith came back from his regular workout and run around the local park, sweat clinging to his shirt from all the exercise. Ever since his argument with Lance inside the school’s gym and outburst about not being anyone’s first choice, Keith never went back.

Gossip spreads around a lot, and something as juicy and entertaining as this is definitely going to be talked about. He already had  looks and murmurs whenever he walked the campus in between classes which was getting annoying and tedious dealing with the looks of pity and the offers of meaningless sex from soulmarkless guys.

And the things that he usually did to comfort himself when he had a bad day or stressful week wouldn’t help at all. It would only be a cruel reminder of the hope that used to have. What he’d normally do is a Disney movie marathon. He would lay next to Lance in their blanket pile in the living room, eating some kettle corn and singing loudly to the songs that play.

Now seeing any movie involving “true love” and “fairy tale princes” would only bring even more tears to his eyes. He’s done  enough crying for a lifetime. There is only so many times he could ask Shiro to buy him more tissues and cookies before even he wasn’t going to let him wallow in tears anymore.

Which is why when his brother threw his jogging clothes at him a hour ago. He woke him up from his long nap saying, “Get your lazy ass out of bed and work off all the birthday cake and ice cream! There’s only so much empty ice cream buckets I can see in the trash before I wonder if you still have any more lactaid pills! Now go, shoo!”

He goes through two buckets of ice cream and suddenly his brother is concerned about his lactose intolerance pills consumption.

Opening up the door to their shared house and finding it devoid of any people wasn’t anything surprising since Shiro was currently spending time with his boyfriends. Heading up to his bedroom and setting his gym bag to the side, he opened up his drawer just to find that it was empty of the expected clothes. The state of the other shelves, his closet, and even the dirty laundry basket was absent of any clothes that he could have changed into.

It seemed that his “beloved” brother planned from the start when he suggested he go  to the gym for a work out. No doubt his boyfriends helped him out in the theft of his clothes.

He was going to get back at them for this. Maybe with a off of their eyebrows.

Attempting to try to break into his brother’s room was thwarted by a well timed text from said person saying that he took his clothes too as he suspected that this could happen.  He would put the lockpicking lessons with Adam to good use if there were actually any reason to go in there, since his asshole of a brother made sure to strip the entire apartment of anything wearable, even his own room.

Keith was going to make his hair match his old age and that tuft of hair if it was the last thing he did but for now, stealing from his snack stash would have to suffice.

Before could even start his siege on the pantry for the not so hidden oreo stash, he noticed a envelope taped to the door. His name was written in neat cursive on a light blue envelope.

Looking around suspiciously for any hidden cameras, Keith reluctantly opened up the envelope and read its contents aloud.

“The honor of your presence is requested at the Starlight Ball, a fairytale brought to life. The prince hopes to see the esteemed guest of honor grace everyone in his best attire as fitting of his beautiful personality.” Keith muttered before before throwing the card onto the table, tears threatening to fall as it just reminded him that life wasn’t going to be the storybook tale that he dreamed of having..“If this is some sort of prank, Shiro, I’m not falling for it! Fairy tales and Prince Charmings don’t exist and it’s cruel of you to send me something like this!” he yelled.

He’s infuriated. From his clothes getting stolen to the stupid card mocking him over his heartbreak. It’s a cruel reminder that he was never meant to have a soulmate. That Lance would never have loved him anyway… if he had, he would have already come by with his beat up blue car as soon as he found out that they shared soulmarks.

It had been more than a week since it happened. He wasn’t ready to entertain the possibility of a secret admirer wanting to be his new “prince” . He preferred to just wallow in his tears or angrily hit something non-sentient. Or whoever was the shitlord of a higher being that was responsible for fucking with his already miserable life by ringing the doorbell incessantly. If someone came up to his face saying that they were his guardian angel or fairy godmother or some bull crap, they were going to get a fist to their face.

Opening up the door to give them more than a mindful for messing with him, he didn’t expect to see Allura. She’s dressed up in a white shimmering dress that adorned with gems making it sparkle in the dark. Her long hair was delicately pinned up and curled, framing her masked face, making her look more sublime than she already was.

Keith stared at her with his mouth agape at how ethereal she looked. He was so struck by her standing in front of his house that he didn’t notice the box that she was holding in her hand. Only by waving her realistic looking wand in front of his face did she catch his attention, his violet eyes looking up at her blue ones.

“Allura, what the heck are you doing here dressed up like that?” he said, gesturing to her entire outfit with confusion.

“Ah ah ah, I’m not this Allura that you speak of but rather your Fairy Godmother for the night. I am here to get you ready for the ball!” she said enthusiastically before pushing her way inside the house, nudging him with the corner of the box over and over.

“I know it’s you so stop this stupid Fairy Godmother crap. And stop poking me with that stupid box! I’m not going to that stupid ball or party or whatever it is!” he yelled out, shoving the box away from his side, noting that it said Dylan’s Fairytale Fashions.

Looking at him disgruntled, she tapped him on the top of his head with her wand before saying, “You are going to the ball whether you like it or not! And if I must force you, I shall!” She said smugly, showing the kitchen fiasco at last year’s Thanksgiving, an event that only very few people were privy to.

There is a reason why Allura never lets Keith and Shiro cook anymore, due to the event Lotor dubbed the “Broganes Explosive Thanksgiving of 2014.” Everyone knew that Shiro wasn’t the best with but the pair naively thought that Keith would be able to make it at least edible.

Oh how wrong they were.

The pictures of that fateful night showed the entire kitchen in disarray: with the crockpot exploded and its contents dripping on the floor, the counters a complete mess, and Kosmo on top of the table as he demolished the turkey.

Scratch shaving Shiro’s eyebrows. He’d just make sure that his older brother won’t be able to populate the world with his spawn, using their weekly dodgeball game as a excuse to maim him . He’d apologize to Adam later, once he was done being mad at Shiro. Right in that moment, he glared at Allura who was barely batting at eye at his glowering face., It was almost as if she couldn’t tell that he was willing her dress and that box to catch on fire. That or she didn’t care. She knew that she had the upper hand.

Glaring at her for a few more seconds, he eventually caved and yanked the box out of her hands. He ignored her excited giggle before he stomped his way up to his room and tossed the box onto the bed before forcing it open. Tossing the tissue paper towards the trash can, he took out the outfit from the box.

Staring at the ruby suit jacket in front of his eyes. It was embroidered with care at the ends of his sleeves, and uncomplicated white design, beautiful in it’s simplicity. She must have known Keith wasn’t particularly fond of anything flashy and eye catching. In fact, within the entire outfit, the majority of it was simple in a beautiful way. With a black shirt and pants to go with his ruby vest and jacket.

What caught his eyes the most was the light blue mask and flower that was underneath the outfit. It somehow didn’t clash with the style of the outfit. He put on the provided clothes and saw how he looked into the mirror. Keith had to admit, that looked really good in it, tailored to his body in all the right places.

There was no denying that he certainly looked like he came out of a fairy tale with the way he dressed. Almost as if he was actually was going to a ball to meet his one and only…

Just because his ‘Fairy Godmother’ was forcing him to go to the ball didn’t mean that he had to actually meet his ‘Prince Charming’ and dance away into the night with him. He could just go for the free food and call it a good night. That said , he should at least wrangle up his hair into something manageable. So he tied  it up before walking out into the living room.

Seeing that Allura was still standing there and with a giddy look on her face, he frowned as he tapped his foot impatiently.

“Since you are so eager to make go to this ball, I assume that you have a way for me to get there? Or do you expect me to go there on my motorcycle?” he huffed.

“There is no possible way that I would let you ruin that outfit that was painstakingly made just for you by going on your motorcycle! Your ride is waiting for you outside!”

And in a flurry of a crapton of dress floof and almost being taken down by Allura’s voluminous hair, he followed after her with a resigned sigh. He stepped out of his apartment, making sure to lock it behind him before turning to look at his ride.

There’s  a grandiose carriage in front of him, elegant in its silver and gold design. And true to the theme of Cinderella, footmen and a driver for the carriage were waiting for him, the door already opened for him to enter the simple but elegant seating.

He turned to look at Allura with wide eyes before asking, “You really didn’t hold back when you prepared for this did you?”

She smiled before pulling him into a hug, replying, “Don’t be afraid to try something new just because you were hurt and afraid of what the future holds. Have courage, Keith.”

As she stepped back, Keith looked at her nervously. He was afraid of what was waiting for him if he did go to the ball and it didn’t go as was expected… or that the night would go exactly as it should.

Maybe it would be worth it to take a risk and try to at least see where it went. He may even fall in love with his admirer over time if he let himself be open up to the idea again…

He looked at the grand carriage in front of him and what it actually symbolized. Maybe this was exactly what he needed. Perhaps what he needed wasn’t the idea of falling in love with a soulmate but being open to the idea of falling with someone real. Someone that didn’t fit his mold of what a soulmate was supposed to be, letting himself be open to seeking his own happiness instead of waiting for it.

All he had left to do was step inside to the next chapter of his story.

[empresskatariah]

unfinished Thalmor Arth thing

(I tried to finish this but it didn’t work out so I’m just posting what I have, whee)

“Do I look like the sort of man who does anything for free?”

He regretted saying the words as soon as they left his mouth. The look of panic on the Nord woman’s face only intensified, her blue eyes widening as more color seemed to drain from her skin. “I-I’ll pay,” she insisted, clasping her hands together in supplication. “I’ll get you payment somehow, I swear it. It’s just… all I have now is enough to buy food for my daughter… ever since Sigvard was arrested we’ve had no income…”

Arthion groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose between a thumb and forefinger, eyes squinted shut as his headache worsened at the sound of her begging. He wanted to find whoever had told her that a certain Thalmor archivist was open to taking bribes and strangle them with his own hands. This sort of thing endangered his position, besides being annoying in the first place… his actions were anything but cheap. Only the finest wine, the richest food and the fattest bags of septims could buy his tiny acts of treachery against his masters.

“Please,” the Nord continued, her voice thick with emotion. “Please, if you could just find that missive… destroy it… they might let my Sigvard go. My daughter just wants her papa back. For him to die over an amulet…”

“An amulet of /Talos/,” Arthion interjected, turning his back on the woman and taking a seat at his desk. Already his candles were starting to burn low; the sun had finished setting outside, leaving his study in shadow. His fingers itched for the tiny vial of ground moon sugar in the top left drawer and he prayed to whoever might be listening, Divine or Daedric Prince, that this peasant would leave him be so he could eat it. “The Thalmor position on Talos worship has been quite clear for years now. This is Haafingar, where the Thalmor have been given free reign by the Empire to enforce said position. And yet you people still can’t grasp the price of heresy.”

“My husband wanted to be a priest when he came back from the war. A priest of Talos! And then even that wish was taken from him.” The woman was tearful now, her wet eyes shining in the candlelight. “You ask us to cast aside our very selves. Why can’t you understand what it means to give up something like that?!”

“Because I don’t care.”

The woman’s expression shifted from anguish to what might have been shock. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t give a shit about Talos. Or the Concordat. Or any of that high and mighty nonsense. Don’t take me for a Justiciar; I only look out for myself. I just can’t fathom why you’re all so willing to throw your lives away over a dead Emperor.” Arthion leaned forward, elbows propped on his desk and hands supporting his chin. “I don’t want your husband to die, but I’m not risking myself over sentiment. I need incentive. The kind I can touch.”

The woman was silent for nearly a full minute, biting her lip as she pondered. For a brief moment Arthion thought he detected a waver in her resolve, an urge to flee. But then…

… then she started unbuttoning her tunic, only stopping once her cleavage was in full view.

“Would milord be open to another sort of payment, then?” Her tone was steely, a contrast to the tortured look on her face. She was trying desperately not to start sobbing. “I can… I can do anything… as long as it saves my husband…”

“Put that back!” Arthion yelped, nearly falling out of his chair as he scrambled to get up. “Put it back, no need for that, don’t do that.” Before he even realized what he was doing, he had gone around his desk and was fumbling to button her shirt back up while she just stared at him, frozen. “Divines’ sakes, lass, you can’t just go around flashing your tits at people–”

His voice caught in his throat when she placed her hands on his own. She had small hands, pale skin rough and reddened from hardship on fingers and palms, soft despite the calluses. Normally he wore gloves but tonight he had already taken them off, unaware he would have a visitor; he didn’t quite understand the feeling that created a lump in his throat at her touch, and part of him didn’t want to.

“I’m not…” Arthion looked away, suddenly flustered. “I don’t fancy women. Sorry.”

How long had it been since someone voluntarily touched him, skin on skin? Months? Years? He honestly couldn’t remember. Couldn’t recall anything beyond the not-too-distant memory of gloved hands bruising him, cutting him, breaking his bones…

“Look,” he began, backing away and pulling out of her grasp. He felt violated somehow, terribly skittish, and he hated it. “You’re obviously a selfless person and I admire that, I really do. But I can’t accept what you’re trying to offer. I don’t want your promises and I don’t want your body. And unless you can come up with something more reasonable to give me, I can’t do anything for you.”

Everything has its price, he reminded himself. Including information. /Especially/ information. He had learned that during the last year of the war, when Imperial mages tortured him for his knowledge of the Aldmeri Dominion’s intentions. Giving what they wanted brought rest, relief. Withholding it brought only pain. And the hunger, the damnable maddening hunger…

As if to spite him, his stomach – which had already been fed for the evening, and most certainly did not lack for padding – emitted a barely audible growl.

“You’re cruel,” the woman told him through her tears, hands balled into fists. “Cruel and greedy. How do you live with yourself?”

Arthion wanted to retort, had a good comeback on the tip of his tongue and a scowl forming to match it, but then his shoulders slumped and he just… deflated, his anger fizzling out as a heavy feeling took its place. He let out a sigh and looked down at the Nord through half-lidded eyes, wondering how he could possibly feel so small when he towered a full head over most people.

How do I live with myself?

“I drink until I can’t remember what was bothering me,” he answered. “I eat until I don’t remember how it felt to starve. And then I pretend I don’t care about anything, because it’s how cowards like me feel strong. Satisfied?”

His own frankness surprised him, as did the fact that he raised his voice at all. He felt fury at himself for blurting out the truth but also inexplicable relief, as if a dam had finally burst wide open. Words he would not, could not say to his own colleagues, spoken willingly to a stranger… he wondered if he had finally started to go mad.

The Nord didn’t answer him. She just stared up at him with eyes the color of a stormy sky, her jaw tense as she studied him, and then she reached for the pouch on her belt. Pulled it off. Held it up as if it was something sacred, then plunked it down onto Arthion’s desk. It clinked as it landed, the unmistakable sound of septims rattling against each other.

“This is all I have,” she told him. “All we have at home is stale bread. If Sigvard doesn’t come back… I don’t know what we’ll do. But here it is. Twenty septims. And my mother’s necklace.”

Twenty measly septims. Enough to buy basic food, but nowhere near the quality he preferred. At a glance the necklace looked valuable, a blue stone nestled in silver, but it could just be a bauble. Compared to his usual standards for bribes… it might as well be trash.

Trash to him, but everything to this woman.

Arthion went back to his seat. He leaned forward, picking up the necklace and eyeing it dubiously. On the back of the pendant someone had carved in runes, initials of some sort. The silver was worn and tarnished, old and well-loved.

He closed his fist around it and remembered how it had felt to watch his tormentors hold the few personal belongings he carried with him over flames, insisting they would spare his mother’s last letter to him if only he gave up one more secret. Remembered watching the parchment ignite even after he started babbling about supply lines.

Cruel and greedy, he thought. That’s what I am.

“I can’t accept this,” he said quietly.

“But it’s all I have!” the woman cried. “You can come search my home if you like, I promise that’s it. I have no hidden jewels, no inheritance. We’re paupers, always have been… but we were happy, because we had each other… so please…”

“I said no.”

Arthion gathered up the septims and put them back in the bag, along with the necklace. He pushed the bag toward the woman, shaking his head.

Her face was twisted between sorrow and rage, her entire posture one of barely-restrained hatred. “How could you,” she hissed. “How could you?”

Arthion shrugged. “It would be more trouble to get that thing appraised than it’s worth to me. And twenty septims is what I could find in the gutter if I went digging around. Frankly, your offer has no value to me.” He leaned back in his seat, hands folded in his lap. “So I’ve decided to contradict myself, for once.”

That last bit stopped the woman in her tracks as she stepped forward. “Wha?”

“If it means you’ll get out of my office and leave me in peace,” Arthion grumbled, “I’ll find that bloody scrap of paper and send it to Oblivion. I can’t promise it will fix anything, but… perhaps it will exonerate your husband. These things are tricky, mind.”

“You’ll actually do it?” The woman was really staring at him now, bewildered. “You… you’ll destroy that evidence? For free? But if there’s no guarantee he’ll be released, I… how can I trust you?”

“You can’t,” Arthion replied. “But… imagine, if you will, that even a coward who gets by trying his hardest to feel nothing… has to feel something once in a while. Even if it hurts.”

He gazed down at his own hands, hands that had maimed and killed in the name of the Aldmeri Dominion, fingers that would never quite be as straight as they were before the Imperials broke them one by one. And then he looked back up at the Nord woman, at the person whose dearest wish he could crush or fulfill with those hands.

“Just don’t tell anyone I did anything for free, for the love of Magnus,” he groused, “or I’ll never be rid of these things. I’m a glorified librarian, not a questing hero.”

[journeysintowebcomics]

Worm Liveblog #11

UPDATE 11: Quintessential Bank Robbery

Last time the bank robbery had started, and it was going quite well, actually! The Undersiders had entered the bank through a side entrance, and although there were many hostages, Bug was doing a good job keeping them immobilized so nobody gets hurt. Now it’s time to continue, and to wait for the heroes to appear, too. So let’s see how this goes!

Everyone except Regent goes to the vault door, relying on his power to delay any foes that may arrive. Tattletale shows once again her power is extremely useful, as she manages to find the right combination of the vault, then she goes to keep an eye on the security cameras’ feedback. The rest prepared to take the cash, although Bug finds herself obligated to show her bravery to Bitch’s dogs. It’s not a fun time for her, but better to assert herself as someone who isn’t afraid of the dogs, even though the one she’s dealing with doesn’t seem very impressed with her.

There’s several paragraphs about the exact movements regarding how they empty the vault. It’s not really much to comment about, although I should point that Mr. Wildbow did a good job making Bug look like she’d dazed by the amount of money they’re stealing:

“It was a staggering amount of money. As Bitch and I worked, I started trying to count the money I was putting into the bag. Five hundred, one thousand, one thousand five hundred. Bitch was working just as fast as I was, so I could double that. Just taking a second to wrap my head around what the total amount would be per bag made me lose track.”

See? It’s not an extensive description, but it works well. All the bags are slid towards the door, and Grue also steals important documents such as deeds, mortgages and loans. Hm, that’s something I’m not sure about – in terms of how they’d earn money with that, I mean. There’d be chances for identity theft, perhaps? Bug’s opinion is that they’ll hold all those documents and ask for ransom in exchange of giving back the documents, which is a possibility. Oooor...

“More intriguing was the thought that he wanted the information itself for his own purposes. Or, on a similar note, maybe there was something specific that would be found in the midst of the paperwork, and he was willing to buy it all if it meant keeping his true intentions unclear.”

Huh. Well, there’s always the possibility the benefactor wanted some of these documents. Hm, I’d also bet that Tattletale would be able to obtain quite some information from those. They’re holding documents pertaining to the financial information of a lot of people, that can be advantageous depending on what kind of criminal activities they may do. I don’t think the Undersiders is the type of group that’d do cybernetic crimes or anything involving paperwork and the such – why to have powers if you don’t use them for cool stuff – but the benefactor may have people who do that. Heck, maybe Lisa would do that. I don’t know.

Now that Brutus – the dog they took with them to the vault – is carrying the bags, Bitch gets him to go towards the front door and calls Angelica forth. It causes the hostages to scream, making Bug feel guiltier for what’s going on. Could be worse, dear, nobody has gotten hurt. In an attempt to calm down, she asks Bitch why one of her dogs is called Angelica. ““I didn’t name her,” Bitch said.” This dog had previous owners, then? Indeed, she did, and Bitch doesn’t refer to them in kind terms at all. Bug inadvertently makes Bitch get angry by accidentally insinuating she had been the one to harm Angelica. Oh dear. ““What? You think I fucking did it?”  She dropped the money she had in her and and (sic) stood up, clenching her fists.” Hm, maybe you should consider not doing ‘small talk’ during the robbery, Bug...this isn’t helping endear you to your teammate. Thankfully, Grue intervenes before Bitch can start a fight. After the second dog is loaded with more money, they ponder if they should take more money or get away now.

““How much do we have?” he glanced over in Angelica’s direction

Tattletale answered for me, from where she stood at the door to the vault, “Forty one thousand, eight hundred. It looks like that’s as much as we’re going to get. The white hats are here, and it’s not looking good.””

Wow, that’s a lot of money! This robbery has been a success. Leaving that aside...the...white hats? I’m not familiar with this terminology. The initials aren’t upper case, so it isn’t the name of a group.

It’s the Wards, in fact, it’s all the Wards they had talked about – except Shadow Stalker. Everyone gets their costume described, and all of them sound like classical heroes. Clockblocker continues falling in my respect list because his costume sounds like it’s patterned like some sort of wallpaper. Hah! Other than that, it does sound like everyone’s dressed like one would expect heroes to dress.

Besides the Wards we heard about, there’s a new one: Browbeat. He has telekinesis as long as those objects are rather close to him, but since he’s a physical fighter that’s rather useful. He also can modify his body to heal and prepare for fights. Fun times!

None of the Undersiders is happy. Tattletale doesn’t sound worried, but Grue is angry.

“Grue hissed at her, “And there’s not supposed to be six of them.”

“There’s seven,” Tattletale said, wincing as Grue slammed his fist against the wood of the door. “There’s someone on the roof.  I’m not sure who, but I don’t think it’s Shadow Stalker. Might be a member of the Protectorate.””

...now I have to wonder if this is a direct consequence of Taylor’s meeting with Armsmaster. IT could be possible he alerted the Wards so as many as possible would arrive to any big crime. Since he knows the Undersiders are doing it, if whoever alerted the Wards told them it was them then they’d know to be prepared in advance. All in all, yeah, I think this is Taylor’s fault. Let’s hope nobody suspects it’s her fault.

Bitch is enthused about a fight, and Grue reminds her that killing is not part of the plans for the day. Maiming is not an option, either. Hm, would they be able to get away without a fight? This could be the time for a chase scene, although I don’t know how they’d get away from these many heroes at once. I’m sure Mr. Wildbow would be able to think of something. Hell, if they don’t escape, it’d be a great way for Taylor to see what happens to caught villains! It also may cement her more towards the villain side. All in all, this is a vital moment for the story, depending on how it goes. I don’t think there’s a way to screw up!

Tattetale sees what the Wards are planning, though.

“Tattletale shook her head, “That’s what they want. Why do you think they’re lined up like that? We bolt with the money from any of the exits, the person on the roof tackles us, incapacitates us or keeps us busy while the rest close in.  Look at how they’re sort of spaced out.  Just far enough apart that if we try to go between them, one of them can probably close in fast enough to nab us before we get away.””

So things are looking rather bad. This is going to be a problem...hm...perhaps the dogs can be of help with that? Those could provide a distraction or something, althoooooough I don’t think Bitch would approve the idea of leaving the dogs behind, so that’s not an option. Wow, I really see no way out of this situation without entering a fight.

““We have hostages,” Bitch said, “If they come in here, we take out one of the hostages.”” Cue Bug mentally panicking. Yikes. She’s even thinking it is her fault, which I agree it may be. I guess this means Taylor will avoid to contact the Protectorate in the future for any reason unless she has a lot of information and is prepared to hide from the Undersiders.

Since the Undersiders are masters at getting away – which is why the Wards are preparing for them to run away – Bug suggests they fight head-on. Oh, this is going to be exciting! That’s the next chapter, though. Well what am I waiting for, I’ll take a look right now!

Alright, it goes straight to the action in the very first paragraph! Bug wonders how the situation looked to the Wards when the bank’s doors opened and a few hostages exited the darkness. Hoh! Classic thing, letting a few of the hostages go. I think I see where this is going. The Wards get their hands busy with the hostages –there are eight, one more than the number of heroes outside – so that gives the Undersiders a chance to spring up a surprise attack. And indeed!

Darkness swelled at the bank’s entrance, then flooded into the street like water from a broken dam.  In seconds, the hostages were hidden from sight and the Wards were forced to retreat several paces to keep from being swallowed up.

Hmmm...that’s smart. Rather ruthless, but smart. I mean, they’re placing the hostages at risk of being attacked, like meat shields without having to hold them. I don’t think Bug approved this plan, but it isn’t like there are many better options. All she can do is implore to them not to hurt hostages – at least the ones that left listened to Aegis and got down on the ground. They’re a bit safe. Not completely, since stomping on them is still a possibility, but they should be safer than if they were standing up. Not that the heroes know, that’s the key here...I think.

Bitch gets ready to jump into battle with one of her dogs, but Tattletale stops her. “That hesitation before Aegis gave the orders to the hostages… it didn’t fit.” An effect of being caught by surprise, perhaps? No, actually it’s because Clockblocker and Aegis are wearing each other’s costume! Wow, that’s...actually pretty smart. These heroes are competent. That’s great, it would have been awful if the heroes of this city weren’t as good as they should be. This should make conflict and risk be more enticing for us readers! Bitch is going to attack the real Aegis and avoid Clockblocker, so their offensive power is available. The rest...hmmmm...I don’t know yet. Clockblocker is the big problem here. He may have one of the worst names I have heard – marketing-wise. Never have a name that’s at risk of being typoed into slang or potentially offensive words – but he’s a rather dangerous opponent here.

Vista is using her space powers and that gives Bug a headache. Interesting limitations. Bug is trying to use her bugs to have an idea of what’s going on, and manages to identify her fellow Undersiders despite the darkness. Bitch is already getting into the fray. She was going straight for Clockblocker, who was dressed as Aegis. But don’t despair, it isn’t like Bitch suddenly got rebellious and decided to do the opposite of what Tattetale indicated. At the last second she changed direction and went towards the real Aegis, catching him off-guard. Good to see Bitch is clever enough to try a feint! Make that two times they have surprised the Wards. With some luck there’ll be a third time!

Aegis is knocked into the ground with a lot of strength, but of course he’s okay. He’s up and ready in a second, and Bitch returns to the darkness. Bug takes that as her cue to do her part of the fight, trying to deal with Clockblocker. Within a fraction of a second of a bug making contact with Clockblocker or his costume, he froze it. Everyone saw that coming, right? Taylor has a plan that’s...frankly pretty good! It’s clever, look at this:

I made my bugs surge forward, surround him, aiming to cover his entire body.  I was pretty sure he couldn’t disable the effects of his power, so if he wanted to freeze all of the bugs I had crawling on him, he’d trap himself in a prison of his own making.

That’s a good strategy. Using your foe’s skills against them is the best move anyone can do in a fight. Sure, it’d take Clockblocker out of the fight for...an indeterminate amount of time that may or may not be enough, but that’d leave many other Wards left. It’s vital to incapacitate a hero or two, even if it’s for a little while. But Bug’s plan isn’t working.

Clockblocker spun in a tight circle, freezing the bugs as his body rotated, so that they were only affected when the part of his body they were on was facing away from the bank.  The result was that a cluster of bugs was left frozen behind him, and he was free to dash straight towards Aegis.

Well I’m stumped. Or maybe...perhaps surrounding him a couple feet away from him would work? No, these are bugs, he could just...pass through them, and I think he’d be nimble enough to spin again right after passing through a wall of bugs. This is a tough one.

Bitch’s dogs do the classic move of causing lots of property damage while trying to injure Aegis, but Vista’s space manipulation seems to have saved him at least once. Huh.

Bug’s strategy seems to be distracting Clockblocker enough to slow him down, at least. Since he’s not trying to freeze them once the swarm got too big, he’s being stung many times, and that’s painful. Bug manages to get her insects underneath her costume, practically guaranteeing he wouldn’t be able to freeze them. That guy is going to look awful by the time this fight is over, sheeesh.

Now I realize I haven’t heard a thing about Regent or Tattetale or any of the other Wards. It’s a good thing this is first-person and not omniscient third-person. In first-person, it’s forgivable that Taylor wouldn’t be aware of what everyone’s doing. She needs to focus on what she’s doing and on what’s most visible – Bitch’s dogs. She doesn’t have time to look around and see what everyone else’s doing. If this story was in omniscient third-person, there’d be grounds to snark about how everyone else is just chilling to a side, watching the rest fight. Hah!

“I’m so sorry,” I murmured, just loud enough that only I could hear it.  I gave the bugs a new order. And then comes a horrifying scenario that nobody would want to find themselves into: finding oneself invaded by insects trying to sneak through every opening possible in your face. This was a consequence of Clockblocker changing costumes with Aegis, so I’m supposing this is the only time this’ll work, but still...other heroes are going to take note of what’s happening now.

Clockblocker reacts like anyone would react, and panics, freezing most of the bugs on him and finding himself immobilized. After all, you have to remember that his power can freeze stuff in time to the point where it’s pretty much indestructible and immovable. He’s trapped. Bug has enough presence of mind to take away as many bugs as possible, not wanting to suffocate him with insects. I’d won. I wasn’t sure what to feel.  I felt a kind of elation mixed with the quiet horror of what I’d just done to a superhero. Well, it is something to be proud of, in terms of strategy and innovation. I’m completely sure that Clockblocker would now be a lot more cautious if he fights the villain with the insects again – even if his real costume has no openings for insects to get to him. Heck, once the rest hears what happened, I’m sure everyone will be more afraid of the unknown villain with the insects. It’s the kind of fame many villains would love to have. The problem now is that now the heroes will expect this to happen and will take precautions to avoid it.

I could settle that inner turmoil later and decide on a way to make amends to Clockblocker at the same time. How, exactly? You can’t send him a bouquet of flowers and a metric jar of ointment to his home, Bug, you’re pretty much unable to compensate him.

Besides, there are five Wards and someone on the rooftop still left to deal with, so now she can focus on them. Shall she be able to fight them? That’ll be for next time. Oh, before that, there’s a comment on this page:

I think Taylor is in the process of burning all her bridges and destroying all her credibility with this bank robbery. If she had backstabbed the Undersiders during the bank robbery she would have been hailed a hero, even by the sour leader of the local Protectorate.

But now she’s attacking Wards and helping the Undersiders escape? In a non sanctioned undercover ‘mission’? Yeah… I don’t think the good guys will be too understanding. She’s gonna get slapped down by the Protectorate either way no matter if she manages to succeed in her mission… maybe be forced to join the wards like Shadowstalker was rumored to or something. It certainly wont be pleasant.

This ARod person is right. The Wards are a group that’s related to the Protectorate, of course the Protectorate is going to hear about what happened. Armsmaster is going to hear what Taylor did – if he isn’t the person on the rooftop, that is. And if Taylor turns out to be the difference between the Undersiders being caught or escaping...well, she’s going to be labeled as an enemy, no matter what information she has. Looks to me like everything Taylor does digs a deeper hole for herself to the point where her credibility as a hero is zero. No wonder she’s going to be a villain! Nobody in the Protectorate or the Wards will believe she’s a hero!

And now I finish this update.

Next update: next time

[cheetahsprints]

Subtle Grace

Summary: Harrison Wells met his guardian angel, in a surprising turn of events. Words: 2637 Sequel: Here 

Links have been fixed. 

Harrison awoke with a splitting headache. He groped for a pillow and pressed it to his face. He groaned. Luckily, the curtains were closed. He felt strange. His mind was hazy. He clawed the information from his depths.

The last thing he remembered, it was raining. He had been tracking Russell Glosson, who was the key to his wife’s murder. The police didn’t believe it had been on purpose. Just a car accident, it happens, they said. A little digging had revealed the truth. The man blocking them at every turn was nicknamed Turtle, slow yet efficient.

He had pulled up on a dead end. He was taking a break at Jitters. By chance, Turtle had showed up there. Harrison had cornered him in the alley. He had his handgun pointed, but then -- but then. The memory tried to slip between his fingers.

He curled on his side and pushed the pillow harder to his face. He forced himself to fight past the muck. There had been another guy. Harrison couldn’t recall his face. He must not have seen it. He memorized faces with ease. He had hit the ground, searing pain climbing all over his right side. There was blood everywhere, mixing with the rain.

He was dying. The last thought was of his daughter. He thought of how he was a horrible father for leaving her an orphan. She would probably find out on the news or have to identify his body. His broken ribs screamed with every sob that had escaped him.

A bright light had blinded him. He’d been by a river, in the height of summer. It reminded him of camping with his late wife, when they were wild and youthful. But she wasn’t there. He had seen himself, floating in the river, which was turning red. Everything was too bright. He ached all over. He thought he heard a flapping of large wings, but he couldn’t see any birds.

He couldn’t figure out how he ended up in bed. He tossed the pillow to the floor. He pawed at his body. He had no injuries. That was impossible. His breathing sped up, panic setting in. He sat up. There was no agony, no blood. There was only the lingering feeling of nearly cracking his head open on the asphalt. He had the sensation that he wasn’t alone. His eyes darted over each corner of his room.

“What the hell,” Harrison screeched. There was a shadowed figure at the end of his bed.

His body jerked, and he somehow flung himself off the bed. His legs were tangled in the sheets. He collapsed on the floor in a heap. He crawled across the floor. He yanked his drawer open and grabbed his gun. He nearly pulled the trigger but considered the shoot first and ask questions later wouldn’t work if he killed the mysterious person. Whoever it was didn’t appear to be armed or preparing to attack him.

“Who are you? Step into the light,” Harrison snarled. The shadowy figure was revealed to be a short man with hair curling down past his shoulders. He held his hands up in a silent plea.

He took him a moment to comprehend the most noticeable feature. Behind the stranger stretched a pair of enormous white wings with a bluish hue. There was a bright blue unearthly glow about him. He wore a red and black tunic. He had some kind of golden crown, and he had matching eyeshadow. He was the most beautiful being Harrison had ever seen. Although Harrison wondered if the angel just automatically had that effect on mortals.

Harrison was one of the most skeptical people on the planet. He certainly didn’t believe in all the guardian angel crap that was the rage these days, especially within his daughter’s generation. But now, the proof was right in front of him. He liked proof.

He could just have a concussion.

“My name is Francisco Ramon,” the angel bowed, “I am your guardian angel.”

“Why did you save me? If angels always protected people, no one innocent would die.”

Francisco absentmindedly plucked a feather. It disappeared in a puff of smoke when he dropped it. The wings folded, and he plopped on the edge of the bed.

“It wasn’t your time,” he said simply. Harrison rolled his eyes.

“So my wife was supposed to die then is that it? She was on some cosmic list?”

Francisco crossed his legs. He tilted his head toward Harrison. “I don’t know anything about your wife. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Why are you still here? Why can I see you?”

“You sure have a lot of questions dude.” Then Francisco shrugged. “I’m sticking around to make sure you don’t do anything dumb.”

Dude? What was that about? He realized he was still on the floor. He blushed with indignation and hauled himself on the bed. He carefully set his firearm on the nightstand. He narrowed his eyes at the angel casually lounging in his apartment, on his bed. Like he owned the place.

Harrison huffed. “That’s Dr. Wells to you. And you didn’t say why I can see you.”

“Oh. Um. That’s on a need to know basis,” Francisco mumbled, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

Harrison had heard of people claiming they had seen their guardian angel. In those situations, the angel was supposedly meant to be with them, usually in a romantic capacity. The notion made Harrison want to step on a bunch of flowers out of pure spite. He dismissed it. There was only so much supernatural elements he could wrap his brain around. Even if his angel was also his soulmate (which would truly confirm the universe hated him), he didn’t believe in fate. He could move on with life, ignoring it.

In most cases, a prominent sign was a certain feeling, sound, or taste they suddenly experienced during the first kiss. He didn’t plan on finding out.

Besides, he couldn’t do that to someone so full of light. He didn’t know exactly what would happen to him when he died, but it had nothing to do with Heaven, or wherever Ramon came from. He wouldn’t belong there.

Harrison pushed off from the bed. He paid the angel no mind as he straightened the sheets and pillows. He stomped to the kitchen, only to find his cupboards had been raided. Various open cereal boxes were on the counter. A single bowl was dirty, sitting in the sink, a bit of milk still in it. He didn’t remember buying all this cereal. Must have been Jesse’s doing, although why she needed different kinds, he had no idea. She was in college, but with her mother’s killer on the loose, he couldn’t allow her to stay in a dorm. She wasn’t very pleased with him.

He began closing the boxes and putting them away.

Harrison turned and Francisco was right behind him. He jumped and slammed his elbow right against the counter. He growled and clutched his arm.

“I was thinking. I’m gonna call you Harry.”

Harrison pointedly ignored him and poured his own bowl of cereal. He almost grabbed the Raisin Bran like a responsible adult, but the Reese’s Puffs Francisco had dug into tempted him. He decided to give in this one time. He hummed at the taste. He pretend his guardian stalker wasn’t watching him.

“You can call me Cisco.”

“I’ll call you whatever I want, Ramon, since you’ve taken that liberty for yourself.”

The angel laughed. It was an empty, snide sound. “You’re really a dick you know that? It was like drawing the short straw when I found out they assigned me to you.”

“Oh, notorious am I?”

“A dozen valiant, noble, kind angels have given up you, and everyone has bets going how long it’ll take you to get yourself maimed or killed. I guess I’m your lucky number thirteen?”

“Leave. I don’t need you.”

“You’re really unbelievable.” Ramon scoffed, “I saved your life!”

“Congratulations. Do you want a medal?” Harrison merrily crunched the cereal between his teeth in a large bite.

He and Ramon had a staring match over the table as he ate. Harrison blinked, but he shouldn’t have expected to be able to win against a nearly immortal being. Ramon brushed his hair behind his ear and smirked. Harrison’s libido didn’t mind how sexy he was, and he wondered if angels were celibate or if they married or had orgies. Did they even have time between looking after the lives of insignificant humans for pleasure? He doubted it. He felt a bit of pity.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Harrison startled. “Like what? I’m not looking at you any special way. Don’t be stupid.”

Ramon didn’t appear impressed. He rested his cheek on the palm of his hand.

“As though you wanted to have me instead of that delicious cereal. I can’t blame you - I am one fine piece of ass.”

“How do you know I don’t literally want to eat you, Ramon. You are irritating,” Harrison deadpanned. Ramon raised an eyebrow.

“Because I know you, Harry, duh.” Ramon drew a circle in front of Harrison’s face. “I watch you when you’re sleeping, when you’re naughty or nice, all that junk. You’re not a cannibal.”

“That’s Santa.”

“Santa is a guardian for all the children. You only get a personal one when you turn eighteen and enter the fun of adulthood,” Ramon replied. Harrison snorted.

“So Santa is real, angels are real. I’m gonna go ahead and assume God and Satan are real.” Harrison paused, lips twitching. “Is the tooth fairy real? Because I’m pretty sure I’m the one who put money under my daughter’s pillow.”

“No tooth fairy or easter bunny I’m afraid. God and Satan are constructs, but there are demons and dark spirits. And we have a leader, the Archangel. Then there’s the speed force which --”

“Please, don’t tell me more. I still have a damn headache.”

“You did hit your head pretty hard. I’m not supposed to fix trivial ailments.”

There was a short silence.

“Wow, you said please. I’m proud of you Harry!” He stuck out his bottom lip. Harrison tried not to contemplate kissing him.

“Do me a favor and shut up.”

Ramon gave him a wide grin. His smile reminded Harrison of the sun rising. His chest constricted. His wife was waiting to be avenged. He couldn’t afford this distraction. Ramon had other ideas.

Ramon flicked his wrist, then rested his chin on top of his hand. “Don’t worry, I’m not interested in mixing my business with pleasure.”

“Neither am I, especially with someone so far below my intelligence level, to think that I’d betray my wife like that,” Harry snapped. It was a little harsh.

Ramon smacked the table. Harrison managed not to jump. He expected Ramon to bite something back at him. He averted his eyes, picking at his fingernail. Harrison despised his stab of disappointment. His bowl clattered into the sink. He was grateful Ramon didn’t feel the need to follow him to the bathroom.

He changed out of his night clothes. He checked his calendar, and he had taken this day off. The hunt for Turtle had taken a toll on him. He didn’t bother getting dressed, he just threw on a black silk robe and sauntered to the living room. He threw himself on the couch and flicked on the TV. He went through the channels and landed on Star Trek. That was good enough.

He was starting to fall asleep again when the sound of popping woke him up. He scowled as Ramon paced the floor. His wings occasionally fluttered and flapped behind him. The breeze almost made Harrison indecent. He clutched the hem of his robe.

“Is that popcorn?”

“My favorite episode is on next! And I’m bored.”

“Because I’m here to entertain you,” Harrison remarked. To his annoyance, Ramon nodded.

“You’re not doing a good job of putting your life in danger. That’s why I’m in this cesspit in the first place.”

“I’m sorry it’s such an inconvenience for you,” Harrison said sarcastically. “When exactly do you have time to watch any series?”

Ramon shook his head. He leaned over the back of the couch, arms pillowing his head. Harrison tightened the belt of his robe and swung his legs to the floor.

“What?”

“You’ll recall I’m not mortal? You’re not my first assignment. Certainly the worst though.”

Ramon chuckled to himself as he strode back to the kitchen. Harrison stole a fistful of popcorn, much to Ramon’s displeasure. He delighted in such a dirty look on a divine angel’s face. He was achingly pretty. Under different circumstances, he would definitely throw his pride and self control to the wind.

He pictured his wife, bleeding all over the dashboard, glass everywhere. After that, his daughter’s tears. Finally, Glosson’s face flashed before him, sneering and taunting.

“What happened to Turtle?”

“Of whom do you speak?”

Harrison glared. Ramon sighed and tipped his head back.

“Russell Glosson is dead. The other guy killed him, somehow just… stopped his heart.”

“To keep him quiet,” Harrison mumbled.

Something wiggled in the back of his mind. There was one person who it might be. Plenty of criminals killed their minions. But only one was known for for his victims having their hearts crushed, while still inside their chests. Glee filled him. Harrison scratched his nose to hide his smile. He would have to be careful, considering Zolomon was the most dangerous serial killer alive. Then again, he had his guardian angel looking after him. Did that mean Ramon would stop him, or just keep him from going into situations where he would surely die?

Ramon stopped his train of thought. “I can see the wheels turning. You’re thinking of doing something dumb aren’t you?”

His wings were slightly opened. They seemed to twitched with nervousness. The edge of one brushed against his head, and he batted it away.

“None of your business.”

Ramon frowned. “OK listen, against my better judgement, I kinda care about you, Harry. You gotta talk to me. Communication is good.”

“I don’t owe you my inner thoughts.” A curiosity derived from his earlier process struck him.

“Can you see the future? Do you know if I will get injured or worse?”

Ramon wrung his hands. He licked his lips and took a moment to answer. His wings drooped.

“Sometimes. It’s - it’s not precise. I’m a bit of a joke upstairs. They say I could be powerful - only if - only if -”

“You lack confidence. Does anyone teach you, or do you have to - learn as you go?”

“The Archangel used to have training regimens for new guardians. They’ve slacked in the last few decades, no one knows why, and they haven’t seen them much. I’ve never even met them,” Ramon explained.

Harrison dropped his chin. He examined Ramon’s troubled expression. “How about a deal? I try not to get myself into serious trouble.”

“And?”

“And. You let me train you.”

“Are you sure training isn’t just code for experimenting.”

Harrison stuck out his hand. “I promise. It seems a worthwhile project.”

Training an angel seemed like the chance of a lifetime. He doubted anyone could ever claim such a thing. He imagined he couldn’t technically tell anyone. Ramon probably wouldn’t appear to someone else. That would be tricky. But he could serve as a way to keep his spirits up, when his mission was hitting brick walls.

Perhaps, it could also serve to distract Ramon. Harrison would have to take a few risks to succeed. Building rapport was out of the question. Ramon barely tolerated him, and his track record suggested that wouldn’t change.

Ramon took his hand and shook it, and there an incredible partnership would begin.