#I assume he's made it clear that he'd rather it go to someone else

[icedbatik]

Sid ... vs the Blue Jackets ... Nov. 14, 2023 (photo, no video)

... vs the Sharks ... Nov. 4, 2023 (photo, no video)

... vs the red wings ... April 8, 2023 (surprisingly, there was video)

... vs the wild ... Nov. 17, 2022 (no video, but two photos)

(of all the 2022-23 helmet exchanges, I only found two that didn't have video; one was Sid's, one was Tanger's)

... vs the flyers ... Feb. 15, 2022 (there was video)

(of all the 2021-22 helmet exchanges, this was the only one I found without video)

... vs the Islanders ... Feb. 20, 2021 (no video, not even a photo, though it was Sid's 1,000th game, so there was a ton of video otherwise)

Documentation available noting Sid receiving the helmet, dating back to the 2020-21 season. Not only are actual videos rare, it shows how infrequently he actually gets the helmet. (Which I assume is the result of him asking guys to give it to other players who might benefit from the confidence boost.)

[mistywaves98]

✧･ﾟ:* ->Yandere! Al Haitham x Fem! Reader

✧･ﾟ:* ->Week (part) 2 of my 400 followers special! I forced myself to finish this with like 0 motivation so I apologize in advance for anything that seems a little odd

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: Non con turned dub con, y'all are implied to be friends, implied belly bulge, gets kinda soft ngl, yandere themes, dark themes, NSFW thoughts, I think that's it!

✧･ﾟ:* ->Minor writing smut! DNI if uncomfy!

✧･ﾟ:* Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

He saw you around the akademiya from time to time, from what he could make out, you were rather lonely, not really mingling with everyone else. He couldn't help but pity your attempts at socialising, often getting ignored when trying to interact with anyone, but he was sure you'd manage someday.

It was surprising when you came up to him one day and shyly asked if it was okay to sit with him, especially since there were other empty benches right next to him, but he still nodded in silent approval, wondering if perhaps you were hoping to try befriending someone again and in all honesty, he just wanted to read his book, but he assumed you would probably give up after a few minutes so he let it slide.

His suspicions were proven correct when you tried to start a conversation, however, it seemed you caught on to the fact that he wasn't really interested in talking so you quickly added that it wasn't necessary for him to speak if he didn't want to.

Al Haitham didn't really think of you to be a chatterbox but people can really shock you sometimes, don't they? You rambled on and on and he was surprised to find himself listening more than he thought he would. When you wrapped your little rant up and bid a him a sweet good bye, Al Haitham found a small part of him hoping you would come back again.

As the days turned into nights and the nights turned into days eventually a few weeks had passed since that first 'meeting' and you had grown much closer to him since day one, you've also had a chance to come over to his residence and even met his roommate.

It had become a daily thing for you two to hang out now and Al Haitham had grown to look forward to your chattering, your voice was so lovely and soothing. Occasionally, he would steal glances at you from behind his book, taking in your happy expression, the way your hair seemed to frame your face perfectly whenever there was a breeze, sometimes trailing his eyes a little lower to admire the way your clothes hugged your figure perfectly...and those sweet tits, they look so soft...he wanted to squeeze them so bad....hm, can you repeat that? He also can't deny the fact he couldn't help but feel a bit jealous when you rambled or even just spoke to anyone else that wasn't him, guy or girl.

He hid those feelings well though, when it seemed he was just focused on reading his book, he was, in reality, seething silently at how well you were getting along with his room mate.

No matter how much he tried to deny it, he couldn't. You were on his mind 24/7. Not to mention how every time he saw you, he resisted the urge to pin you down and take what he really wanted. It was even starting to affect his work, everytime he picked up a piece of paper, he felt as if he was seeing your name written all over it, every face seemed to resemble yours and he swore he saw you walk by from the corner of his eye.

You also noticed he'd become more clingy than usual, insisting that he accompany you to things you'd have never thought he would be interested in. To be honest though, he really didn't care about where you were going, he just wanted to make sure no one tried anything on you.

It gradually became kind of suffocating, you needed some space and you were hesitant to bring it up at first but all you got was a simple nod of acknowledgement, much to your relief. However, whenever you did go out without him, Al Haitham made it clear that you were to come back to his abode before going to your own. Upon arriving, he'd be all over you, hand holding your face tightly as he checked for, what he claimed, 'bruises' (he was actually looking for signs of you hooking up with anyone).

Although it was better than having him follow you around, which he still did at times, you still felt as if you had no privacy. Like if something or someone was always watching and listening to you as you went about your daily life. It made you paranoid. You became anxious and jittery, jumping at the slightest things.

Everytime you were around him you felt uneasy, as if his eyes were always on you, even if he appeared to be busy with other things.

Al Haitham, on the other hand, was secretly smiling at the way you were slowly withdrawing yourself from others, whether you were aware or not, it was only a matter of time before he had you where he wanted you.

When a fellow classmate invited you to see a performance in the Grand Bazaar, he urged you to go (even if it meant you'd have to be with someone else), it would help you relax your nerves after all and relieve some tension. You decided to take his advice with a small smile that twitched slightly when he reminded you to make sure and pay him a visit first before heading home.

While you were gone he managed to get a very bewildered and confused Kaveh out of the house for a while. After tidying up a bit he decided to sit down and wait.

Al Haitham's head snapped towards the door as soon as he heard it creak open, revealing your slightly disheveled form. He was all over you in an instant and his eyes narrowed as he inspected your neck, fingers lightly tracing purple and red marks that could only be described as lovebites.

"What were you doing there?" his voice was low and dangerous as you nervously responded with,"nothing," "Don't lie to me" he grabbed your jaw with one hand, tilting your head up to look him in the eyes. Possessiveness and anger swirled around in them as his glare never faltered. "I-it was just a simple hook up! We didn't even do more than a little making out... but besides, why would that be a problem?!"

"Because. You. Are. Mine."

With that, his lips met yours in a rough kiss. Your hands flew to his shoulders, trying to push him away, but you were too weak. Instead, he pinned you against the door with his body as his tongue pried your mouth open.

The hand holding your jaw travelled down to close itself around your throat as the other cupped your clothed breast, giving an experimental squeeze before brushing his hand over your nipple, feeling it harden through the thin fabric. "No bra? Are you sure you did 'nothing'? Dirty whore."

His hand quickly left your chest area to part your legs that were practically glued together at that point. Two fingers rubbed your pantie-covered pussy, making you whimper and try to close them, but the tightening grip around your throat made you stop. After collecting enough of your slick on his fingers, Al Haitham brought them up to your eye level.

"Look at how wet you are, just from a little make out session, I doubt you would've wanted to stop here, or do you?" Tears formed in your eyes from the embarrassment as you lightly shook your head. "I thought so." Those same fingers were shoved into your mouth as the skirt you were wearing was hiked up to your stomach, revealing a pair of pretty green panties with a leaf pattern covering it,"This was my favourite pair, a shame I'll have to do this." Your eyes went wide as the sound of fabric ripping met your ears.

"Do you think you need to be prepped? Or are you too eager to have a man's cock inside you?" Your mind was filled with fear as you heard him unbuckling his belt. "W-wait, please..." "Please what? I'm sure you can take it, right?"

Tears fell from your eyes as you felt him push it in once he was lined up with your hole. Even though he eased it in slowly, the burn was painful, your nails dug into his muscular biceps as you squeezed your eyes shut. Al Haitham's hand came up to wipe away the tears as he bottomed out inside of you.

Your moans were occasionally interrupted by uncontrollable hiccuping from crying as he began thrusting. His thrusts were as deep as they were gentle and you could see the tip of his cock kiss your cervix everytime. He was so big and you knew there would be a bulge in your stomach if you dared to look down, which you didn't.

You hated how you were getting closer and closer to orgasming, you hated how you felt yourself clench around him even tighter as he praised but at the same time degraded you,"Look at you, taking my cock so well like the slutty bitch you are—fuck, you're so tight, are you seriously getting off on being fucked like this by your friend?"

Eventually you came undone with a cry of ecstasy, your legs spasming and mouth ajar, vision gone white for a moment. Al Haitham didn't stop though. "Please stop, 'm still sensitive—n'more..." "You really thought we're done? You must be dumber than I imagined. I haven't had my pleasure yet and we aren't going to be finished until then."

[mc-lukanette]

The back of the room was cold, but Marinette's face felt warm as she made eye contact with Luka, seeing him standing there on the stage and playing with the rest of Kitty Section. Her heart was pounding pleasantly rather than doing flips, like a massage for the inside of her body.

His confession was still playing in her head. She'd known guys who had liked her - though their crushes never lasted long - but Luka was different. She hadn't interacted much with the other boys, but Luka knew her. He'd seen her at her most embarrassing and somehow took it all in stride.

She never would've thought that he'd have feelings for her, which brought an entirely new context to their private moments together. She recalled him staring at her so lovingly when they were together and had just assumed that he was generally happy.

She felt a little silly thinking that now, and the rest of Kitty Section's performance was spent mulling over only one thing: what to do about it.

——

Marinette lingered behind after everything was over. Some of the workers began to clear out, some stayed behind to chat with Kitty Section, and Bob Roth was seething in a corner mulling over some papers with someone else.

She hadn't even realized that she was staring at Luka so intently, waiting for him to finish talking to everyone, until he looked over at her like he'd sensed it. She stiffened, but played it off with a shy wave, not wanting him to rush anything.

Despite that, Luka turned to the employee he was talking to, saying something she couldn't hear before walking away and heading in her direction.

Pouting, she insisted, "You could've finished."

"It wasn't anything important," he assured. "Besides, I'd rather listen to your song. Everyone else can wait."

Wow, she nearly said aloud, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She could only guess that he was riding an emotional high from managing to get the justice they wanted and getting to play on a stage with his friends, as he was more forward than usual.

Marinette was familiar with being flirted with, but only as Ladybug. This - this - was different. Luka meant it, and knowing he meant it made it extra charming. She almost had to feel her face to check for a mask, yet understood that he was simply talking to her.

To Marinette.

Fidgeting with her fingers, she stared at their shoes and explained, "It's nothing urgent. I just... didn't know how to talk to you alone?"

"Mm," Luka hummed in acknowledgment, the curiosity evident in his eyes. Without missing a beat, he suggested, "We can sneak out?"

"H-huh?" Just like that? She looked past him to his instrument, which was resting against a wall and in blatant view of everyone else. "What about your guitar?"

"Jule'll take care of it." He said it with the tone of someone who was owed many favors by their sibling.

"...Oh." Marinette giggled. "Okay then."

She went to head for the door, Luka following behind, but she only took a few steps before something occurred to her. She turned to look at him, lips pressing together in thought as she stole a glance at his hands.

Her fingers twitched. It should be alright, shouldn't it...?

Deciding that the simplest way of finding out would be to just do it, she reached out, grabbed his hand, and continued her walk to the door.

Her answer came in the form of his larger hand squeezing hers back.

——

Marinette brought Luka down the various halls of the TV studio, using her (admittedly mild) memory from traversing it as Ladybug to get to their destination. She had no idea whether or not Luka thought she knew where she was going, but he didn't say anything regardless and let himself be taken around.

Stopping at the door she'd been looking for, she knocked to ensure that there was no one inside, then opened it. She went in with Luka and turned to close the door behind them, but Luka had already gone to do it himself.

They exchanged smiles. As she'd thought, the dressing room she'd gone into as Ladybug did indeed provide the privacy she'd hoped for. It was so much quieter than everywhere else they'd walked past.

Granted, it may have been the atmosphere between them putting in the work.

"That was really sweet what you said back there," she told him, referring to his confession before he'd gone out to play.

Luka caught on well enough and shrugged, replying, "I only said what I was thinking."

"But that's amazing!" The idea that it was anything normal was ridiculous to her. "You always say what you think. Most people would be too embarrassed to say something like that to someone they love."

Luka loves me, her brain noted again at her own statement.

"I'm not embarrassed about how I feel about you," he stated shamelessly. "I could say what I think more if you want."

"I—" Marinette looked down at their hands - only now realizing that neither of them had let go - as an excuse not to look at his warm expression, turning his hand to stare at his nails as if his black nail polish was suddenly extremely interesting. It was a little overwhelming putting together his compliments with what she knew now, but when she thought about it, his current behavior made sense.

He confessed, she'd had yet to reject him, and she held his hand all the way down the multiple halls. Clearly, he could read the room, or at least read her. It shouldn't have been surprising given that he'd proven as much even when they first met, but it was unusual to have people like that in her life despite how many she'd befriended.

She could definitely get used to it.

"...I-I'd like that, actually," she admitted. Then, remembering the proverbial elephant in the room, she looked back up at him and asked, "You know what's going on between me and Adrien, right?"

He nodded.

She sighed, smiling despite her exasperation. "It's a whole lot of nothing."

"Oh." His surprise was obvious.

"Er, of course there was something," she corrected, waving her free hand dismissively, "but nothing ever really happened after that. We talked, but he doesn't notice me. Whenever I felt like I did anything good, it didn't actually do anything. The girls were always pushing for us to get together, but if it wasn't for them then I would've given up a long time ago. Even if I don't talk about him, everything else just... becomes about him, and I..."

"You're done," Luka finished.

"Mm." She nodded affirmatively. Pulling his hand up, she held it with her other hand as well and pulled it close to her chest. "No one said anything about him for the past two weeks. I could just focus on us—" She blushed. "—our video: your music and my designs. It was really nice... except for the whole you know."

"Yeah." He chuckled, equally amused by the contrast.

"What I'm trying to say is..." She took a breath to steel herself up. "I like you too, Luka, and I didn't want you to worry about—"

"I know," he cut in. "I believe you, Marinette. You don't have to explain yourself to me."

She was briefly thrown off by his interruption, but realized that he was trying to keep "that name" out of the conversation just as she'd said she liked. Suddenly, it was hard to even remember who they'd been talking about.

"So... you'll be my boyfriend then?" she asked hopefully, squeezing his hand. She supposed that the possibility existed that he could want to wait, or not be labeled for whatever reason. Considering how everyone would probably react, it wasn't unreasonable, though having a secret relationship with Luka was a secret she might've actually been okay keeping.

Luka opened his mouth to speak, but what came out was less words and more of a breathy noise. He hunched over, slapping his free hand over his mouth to suppress any further ones.

"Wha?!" she let out, alarmed. She released his other hand, flailing her arms and asking, "Did—did I say it weird? I could try again! I—"

He raised a hand to reassure her, needing a moment before rising back up. That was when she saw the uncontrollable smile on his face.

"Sorry," he said, delight overtaking his tone. "I got to play a song I made with the rest of the band, in costumes you made, and on live TV, but this is the happiest I've been all day."

"Luka!" She tried to pout with how he worried her for a moment, but her lips refused. She was just too happy to suppress the smile. "...Fine."

His brows quirked upwards in curiosity from the intentional vagueness.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket, went to one of the apps, and set a timer for thirty minutes. Then, crossing the room to set it down somewhere, she went for the door next to lock it. Turning to Luka with a loving smile, she explained, "We probably have about half an hour before anyone wonders where we went."

He got the idea instantly, sharing her mischievous look not unlike when they thought to sneak into the TV studio together. Marinette almost instinctively put an ear to the door to see if the girls were somehow there to listen in, but she knew better by now when it came to her and Luka, so she rushed directly into his arms.

These moments were just for them.

[the-wales-5]

"Crazy for this girl " (Chapter 1)

Introduction

September 2001.

“Wouldn't you sign this picture for me? Please, I will keep it with myself forever! It will be my favourite item in the room! Yes, I know you are not signing autographs, but you can make an exception for me, right?”

“Look here! It’s my new camera, and I want yours to be the first picture there!”

All these voices full of excitement were ringing in his head yet long after he went to his room. Prince William tried to attend as many seminars and lectures as he could, especially that it was the very beginning of his studies, but the unhealthy interest he had been getting from the young women in the corridor every day was scaring him. He thought that the University of St Andrews in Scotland would be the best possible choice even with the assumption that lots of people would want to talk with him or take a picture, so he tried to get used to it. However, what he'd been experiencing for the past few days made him feel unsettled and exceeded his worst expectations.

He finally sat down on the bed and tried to rest after a day with two lectures and that recent stressful situation. After a while, he decided to take a look through notes he made throughout the day, on one of the pages was written “Bring to the classes in two days”, followed by a title of the book all the students were supposed to have. The prince cursed at the thought of going out of his room and meeting a group of excited or rather overly-excited and hysterical girls once more that day. However, he knew that many other students always borrowed books as soon as possible. Due to that unspoken rule, he had already lost a chance to get one of the important papers before class in the previous week. As a consequence, at that moment, he was determined to completely ignore all the people waiting and get through to the library.

*

“I do not understand all that fuss you are creating here for days” a brunette thought as she passed by some of her female friends who were still enthusiastically talking about the Prince of Wales’ son. She did not express her thoughts out loud, though, as she was in the minority of people thinking that William's arrival at the university was a ‘normal’ thing and not something to gush about constantly.

*

After asking about the book, William was left in disappointment again. The last copy was taken away by someone else just fifteen minutes earlier. After hearing the words “You can ask her”, William assumed that yet another forced and weird conversation was awaiting him.

“Miss Middleton. Her name is on that list given out to all the students on the first day, am I right?” A person working in the library said and rolled his eyes a little. Although he knew that a prince stood in front of him, he still felt an annoyance over first-year students' awkwardness and confusion about every simple rule.

“Yes, of course” William cleared throat moments later “We've simply had no chance to talk yet”. This time, he was the one to not receive a reply and left the library in the following seconds.

***

Chapter 2

[wolven91]

The Predator Café - Chapter 7

(Trigger Warning: Violence, Injury)

Panic, rage, fear and white-hot fury swirled within Natasha's chest.

The outside world began to fade out until all that was within her sight was that remnant of clothing that was unmistakably her friend's as the edges of her vision became a black halo around this tenuous link to Pip.

She could hear naught but the roar of her heartbeat as she began to hyperventilate.

The next thing she was aware of was being inside the Café, standing in front of her boss. She watched herself as if from above near the ceiling; she demanded if he'd seen Pip enter, he was denying this and shaking his head. She could see herself asking if he was certain. The man confirmed that the smaller Prey entrance hadn't been opened since the lunch time rush.

She 'blinked' and was already halfway home in a full sprint.

Their voice, crystal clear, repeated in her head. '...your 'Prey' won't escape...'; her blood boiled and her jaw ached from clenching her teeth.

Bursting into her home she stalked from one dark room to the other, pacing in impotent rage and fear.

She stopped at the kitchen, the cold pasta still sat in a pot on the hob. Her mind cleared instantly; Pip was in danger and she had to protect him. She was getting him back, there was no doubt in her mind for a single second that she'd get him back or she'd pull their god-damned spines out.

She'd have to be smart about this.

The police were as useful as an ashtray on a motorbike. If she rang them, they'd turn it into a hostage situation that would leave Pip in even greater danger. Her lawyer had even said that they'd never retrieved any of the previous victims alive...

“...fucking ghouls ate the evidence...” she realised with horror.

Her lawyer though? She was capable; she could call in the cavalry while Natasha bought them time on the inside. Natasha had never been one to sit on the sidelines when someone else was in trouble; especially one of her own. She'd learnt over a long childhood in the slums that sometimes one had to take things into their own hands; to stack the deck in their favour.

Their whispering came back to haunt her from the darkness that surrounded her; 'When you’re ready, go to the sub-station near the park. Knock once.'

“When I'm ready? Oh I'll get ready boys. I'll be good ‘n ready...”

===

Pip woke in a cloying darkness that made it hard to breathe.

When he did try to take a deep breath, pain lanced through his side causing him to flinch which only hurt the mammal further. He tried to remain still and take damp shallow gulps of air as he came to realise that he was contained within a sack of some kind.

He assumed he was on the floor as it was hard and cold beneath him. He thought it would be better for whoever had him to believe he was still unconscious so made a point to remain as still as possible while he tried to listen for voices or a clue as to what was around him.

Panic bubbled just below the surface, it threatened to rise up and drown him if not for the mantra that he repeated to himself that just had to keep calm and he would find an opportunity to escape. His entire childhood had been training him through established methods of how to keep safe in a world that wasn't a Prey's.

Many of them were pointless now; stay in lit areas, stay in communication with people, arm yourself. His best hope now was to find a chance to get distance between his captors and either hide where they couldn't reach him or out run them.

A nasally voice, moving closer to where he lay, broke the silence.

“Do we know if she's coming?”

A gruff voice replied a moment later.

“She'll be coming, sooner rather than later. I don't know much about these Humans but they don't look like the kind to give up on Prey.” A mirthless chuckle escaped the gruff voice. “If I haven't missed my mark, I'm willing to bet she'd chase this meat for forever.”

The nasally voice seemed unconvinced and to Pip struck him as a minion rather than a mastermind.

“Yeah, but what if.. what if she-”

“Shut up.” The gruff voice stated flatly.

“If she does anything stupid then we'll have to react to it. This may be your first time dealing with this, but this is how we recruited before. If these humans are what we think they are, it'll be easier to get them to join Predators like us than anyone else.”

“But boss, they aren't exactly discrete, she's taller than you even?”

Pip had used the term 'feral' before in jest or flippancy, but the growl that came from the gruff voice triggered a primitive part of his brain, it was a deep seated fear that ran through his body.

If he didn't get free, he was going to die.

His thoughts were interrupted by a third voice, this one came from further away as if they weren't in the same room as the other ones that had spoken so far.

“Hey boss! She's coming! She's.. got a pipe?”

“You two, go hide in the other room. You two with me, when she gets in, stand either side of her. I don't care what's she's armed herself with, if she fucks around we'll show her that we're the real Predators here, not this 'equals' nonsense...”

===

Natasha marched with confidence towards the substation that sat just outside the limits of a public park. It was a small structure, no larger than her front room and without a second floor she questioned whether it would be able to hold any more than the group of three that had told her about it in the first place.

There was something she didn't know. Either this wasn't their base or there was something she wasn't seeing yet.

It didn't matter; this was her single lifeline connecting her to Pip, there weren't any other options.

She had prepared herself as best she could, it had taken longer than she had wanted it to, but without a timeline she had hoped they had meant they'd keep Pip 'safe' until she could make it. Hey lawyer had assured her that she would inform the police, but begged her not to do anything rash.

Walking up to the substation door, she knocked a single time and stepped back away from it. A weird 'secret knock', but who in their right mind would knock on a door once? She shrugged to herself, it didn't matter; she just had to get inside.

The door unlocked from within as a bolt slid free.

“Come in, Sister.” A familiar voice said from the shadows, this was definitely the place. She steeled herself as she stepped into the 'lion's den'.

Inside a creature that resembled a Weasel hoped down off a crate that had served as its perch to look out of the small grime encrusted window. Normally Natasha would do her best to recall their correct designations and species names, but it didn't even register. She was appraising him; weighing him up as to how quickly he moved, how heavy he was, did he look like he could handle himself? Her time in the slums had given her enough experience to gauge how dangerous a person actually was.

This was a creature that looked like they used; speed, claws and teeth to win their fights. It gave her a toothy grin which faltered immediately as he noticed her expression and flinched from looking at her directly in the eye. He gestured lamely to the metal bat that she gripped in the middle with one hand while avoiding her gaze.

“You- you can't bring that in here... you can't be armed.”

“Ya’ think I'm gonna’ go into a room of Predators unarmed? Do ya’ think I'm stupid?” She snapped back at him, she'd expected to be challenged, but with just a bat she'd be able to talk her way through. Bluff that they wanted her here, not the other way round.

“But.. you..”

A voice called out from deeper within the structure, further away than what should be possible.

“Let her in, she's one of us...”

She gave the weasel a withering stare as she tapped the bat against her hip impatiently.

He ducked his head and retreated to the end of a grey electrical console. It dominated the single room that was the substation, but when he and Natasha rounded the far corner, a metal bulkhead jutting out of the ground was swung open presenting a ladder down into what Natasha assumed was the sewers.

This was not going to plan; she had no interest in going below ground, especially with what looked like a manhole cover that could be sealed closed between her and the rest of the world.

“Ya’ live in the sewers...?” She said disdainfully as she grabbed the ladder and began to descend before anyone could question her resolve. As she reached the bottom of the ladder, a serious voice, which gave her the impression of the ringleader, greeted her.

“Welcome sister. Yes, we may technically live in the sewers for now, it won't be long before we bring our vision of the galaxy to the wider city and world above. We and now you, are not alone with our desires-”

Natasha tuned him out as he continued to drone on, seemingly loving the sound of his own voice and getting high off his own horseshit. She noted that he was a Canid, black and brown colourings with a body that spoke of time at the gym, but he was small, shorter than normal canids. A runt? Either side of her sat two more, totalling four so far, one a felinoid that looked like she'd seen better days with the scraggly pelt of tawny fur and bald spots in her hide. Her partner on the other side of the room; a draconian, was thin with black for the majority of his scales but with blotches of deep red in a chaotic pattern across his visible flesh.

Natasha continued to observe the room as the ringleader went on about a 'new world order' by talking about how it was 'better in the old days'. She could sincerely feel her brain cells dying as he continued to regurgitate words that must've sounded impressive to him but imparted no actual meaning to anyone paying attention.

The room was a definitely part of the sewer system, but it appeared unused based off the floor and walls being clean of any sign of previous water or sewage, it was however, littered with the signs of usage by people; bottles and empty food packages lined the walls along with various boxes and half burnt candles scattered about haphazardly. The room itself was wide and open, the ceiling was however, almost too close for comfort to Natasha, but she gauged that she would be the tallest here by at least a head; only she would have to worry about hitting head against the humming strip lights. The end of the room, behind the ringleader's chair, had a divot in the floor for sluicing liquids away and a tunnel that cut across the room, leading deeper into the sewer system, it made the room into a 'T' shape, preventing Natasha from seeing around the corners into either direction of the tunnel.

She was in look, these lot looked like dregs, deformed and stunted. Was that their reasoning for eating people? They didn’t have the strengths of their brethren so they attacked anyone weaker?

The canid who was currently sitting at the opposite end of the room to the entrance ladder was occupying an aged leather chair that had somehow been brought down into the space. Saying that the only other visible seating in the room were several crates, it struck Natasha that this canid thought himself above those who followed him. The crates that served as seats were reinforced as such as they were each surrounded by empty bottles of beer or cans. What was interesting is that there were more available and visibly used seats than members present.

'Maybe 6 of them?' Natasha thought to herself as she realised the ringleader was winding his speech up as he was now standing with arms wide as if addressing a grand cheering crowd rather than skulking in the goddamned sewer.

Her bat 'tinked' against the cement floor as she dropped her grip from the middle of it, to the handle end and she flatly began.

“Wow...” struggling and failing to pretend any longer.

The sickly canid brought his gaze from the ceiling down to her, lowering his arms down to his sides lamely. Her lack of applause was disheartening to the man. He genuinely thought he'd improved his delivery of that speech.

“Jin, give us some privacy.” He shouted past her; the metal portal she had climbed through closed with a slam and grating lock.

'So much for their plan; my turn.' She smiled to herself, she hadn't been relying on any back up if she was honest with herself. It was always going to be her versus whatever unfortunately bastard that thought they could take her Pip.

“You fella’s took something from me. I want it back.” She demanded with a stony glare. The canid held his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Peace Sister, we only grabbed it so you could enjoy it without anyone suspecting you and so we could all meet. We're glad their meddling didn't get you arrested properly before you could enjoy its succulent flesh.”

The felinoid piped up in a tone that Natasha assumed she meant in a supporting manner. 

“It smells so sweet, I can understand why you chose it. I can't wait to sink my teeth into it properly...”

Natasha gripped the bat harder, her knuckles turning white.

“I will not 'share' Him in any way, shape or form. Not with y’all or anyone else, do ya’ understand me?”

The canid gave the human an award winning smile as he tried to reassure her.

“Oh you must understand, until we have enough to go around, we all must all share our prey. We each can support each other, we are a fami-”

“Show me him now.” Natasha cut off the canid. She needed to know he was alive. As long as he was alive she would help him live a life even if he wasn't whole.

“You're right, you're right! Of course, we've taken your food from your mouth and are trying to negotiate while you have no evidence we're sincere. Granc! Bring it out here now!”

From one of the blind-corner tunnels, another runt of a canid appeared with a lumpy sack in one hand. Like the felinoid, this one had mange and looked thin or sickly. He handed off the sack to the ringleader who reached in the bag.

A heartbreaking squeak came from within as he grasped and pulled Pip out in one harsh movement. Natasha's ache from her jaw came back, she could feel her bottom left eyelid begin to twitch with the effort of keeping her face neutral.

Pip looked scared and hurt. The Canid held him by the back of his neck, Pip had grabbed the larger creature's fingers in an attempt to ease the pressure on his body. He had dried blood over his face and he wasn't breathing correctly, as if he couldn't draw in a full breath. His fur was bedraggled and damp, he looked awful, but he was alive and awake; that was enough for Natasha. As he blinked in the sudden change of light, his eyes focused on Natasha and his face showed shock, surprise and fear.

Whether fear for himself, fear 'for' her or fear 'of' her, Natasha couldn't tell.

It didn't matter, he was alive and she was keeping it that way.

“Hand him over.” She demanded again.

“No, we've been more than welcoming to you and we've only received hostility in return. It's time you decide to join us or not.”

“As I said before; He. Is. Mine. I will not be sharing him with anyone, let alone pretend Predators such as y’all.”

This got a reaction from them, the two who had been sat either side of Natasha stood and came closer to her, well within range.

Good. Get cocky, get in close.

“Pretenders?!” The ringleader said incredulously.

“Oh, ya’ disagree? Ya’ll not predators, none of ya’ are! And yet ya’ think ya’ll good enough to take what's mine?! Ya’ bottom feeders! Ya’ll haven’t brought down anything that could actually give ya’ a run for ya’ money. At best, ya’ll opportunistic scavengers and ya’ done fucked with the wrong human.”

As the canid breathed in to retort, Natasha didn't wait to hear any more drivel from him.

She grasped the opposite end of her bat in her spare hand and drove the handle into the ribs of the black and red draconian as hard as she could, utilising her whole body to add force into the jab. The dull 'crack' echoed through the room from the bipedal lizard’s torso as he crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut. She let go of the business end of the bat to swing it in a full circuit, so the felinoid received the full brunt of force that swept the bat from down by her feet right up and into her jaw. Her head snapped backwards in a whiplash inducing motion before falling away and clutching at her face, the scream that came from it was more raw emotion than anything coherent.

At a glance the draconian had fared little better as he remained on the floor trying and failing to gulp air that simply wouldn't come.

The spare runt canid came from the front as he grabbed at the bat with both hands, Natasha was pushed back a moment before moving her arms in a violent jerking motion to push the bat squarely into his snarl, breaking his front teeth. He was stunned for a moment allowing Natasha to follow up with a second strike with the middle of the bat with little resistance. The front of his muzzle crumpled slightly as the majority of his front teeth disappeared when they broke in half and blood burst from the ends of his nostrils.

As she pulled the bat clear of his hands, she swung the handle to hit him in the face in a short pivot, it was then that Natasha was blind sided as she was tackled to the floor by a green blur. 

The green blur slashed at her face where her cheek immediately began to burn and ache. The new geckin, previously hidden around the other blind corner, reared back, jaws agape to clamp down on her exposed neck. He was small, but still sharp. As he lunged downwards, the act was arrested by the spiked choker she had donned before her arriving at the substation, preventing him from being able to close his jaws around her throat completely.

Normally she would only wear the spiked collar when going to a concert or other event where she could dress as dramatically as she liked, but she had feared that without something to defend her neck and wrists, she may have been vulnerable to this exact attack. The 'camo' geckin tried to close his teeth around her and pull, but the metal and leather left his attack ineffective and more damaging to himself than Natasha.

As he straddled her, she drove a knee up into his crotch as hard as she could before grabbing the creature and rolling to the side, dragging him beneath her in a reversal. She proceeded to pound into his face with both of her fists; her adrenaline allowing her to wail away into his jaw, cheeks and eye sockets. It wasn't until a kick to her ribs from a new assailant, forced her to roll away with a wince into a low crouch and her fists raised to defend herself.

The Ringleader stalked around his fallen compatriots, the geckin wasn’t moving.

“You idiot! Do you not understand?! We're the only ones in this city that appreciate your desire! You're denying yourself it's flesh!”

Natasha was beyond words at this point, her rage fuelled her onwards; the slight movements of her Pip in the corner of her vision willed her to tear this dog’s head off. 

She reached back to retrieve her 'back-up plans' from her back pockets. Slipping the pair 4-ringed brass knuckles over each of her own she stalked forwards towards the enraged alien.

The wild haymaker he threw out was easily redirected; it was trying to disembowel her, but Natasha gave back a quick jab into his chest rather than a grander response. He was shorter than the average canid by a significant margin, but no less dangerous, to underestimate him would be to defeat herself. He took a step back before pushing forward again, he then threw out a series of clawed slashes that did no more than bounce off Natasha's guard as she allowed his assault uninterrupted. The spiked bracelets that donned her wrists, jabbed and gouged at his own forearms weakening his attack as he could simply flail at her. His assault was feral; strong and violent, but without finesse. He’d been used to being the larger one in past conflicts, his self-assurance was evident in his lack of form or skill.

Her initial plan was to allow him to punch himself out, with his inability to end the fight by numbers or taking advantage of an exposed neck, he could only batter himself against her stalwart defence. He had a moment of inspiration however by throwing out a punch into Natasha’s gut slipping through her guard. She doubled over in a moment before twisting at the hip and using her elbow to slam into the canid’s face. He flinched and stepped backwards blinking away stars as his sensitive muzzle burst in a small geyser of blood.

Natasha’s ‘rope-a-dope’ plan was thrown into disarray however when, as the two circled each other, Pip appeared from behind the Ringleader and drove a screwdriver into the flesh of his calf with a rebel yell. Crying out and collapsing to one knee the canid successfully aimed a sweeping backhand that launched Pip deeper into the room away from the brawl.

Natasha saw red at Pip being struck; defence gave way to pure, livid hatred.

Before the canid could prepare himself, he was attacked by a true ‘Predator', one that dredged an icy dread from deep within him; a feeling he was not aware that he could ever experience, one of a Prey.

The metal covered knuckled came up in a south-paw upper punch that snapped his jaw closed and put the former Predator on his back. Natasha pounced upon him to batter solely into his head and whilst the sieged creature attempted to bring his arms up to defend himself, Natasha simply pulled his arm out of the way to land an uninterrupted hit square into whatever was in the way between her and the floor.

This continued for a time, a cathartic, raged filled therapy for Natasha as she paid him back for the upset and harm he had caused for both the Human and her Pip.

It was only when the creature had stopped moving that the drive to hit it drained from Natasha and a sudden overwhelming need to find and protect Pip returned.

Natasha got off the still breathing but bloodied meat that now laid thoroughly tenderised and scrambled over on all fours to the caramel furred mammal that remained still in a heap. She gingerly picked him up; he was still breathing but limp in her arms. She rushed over to the ladder out and turned the handle that would open the hatch once more, it had been locked from the inside.

When she unlocked it fully, the hatch was opened immediately by the collection of law enforcement officers that had crowded around the entrance to the subterranean lair. They however flinched back at the sight of the haggard and still enraged Human crawling from the depth with her face covered in blood. Whether this was her’s, Pip's or anyone else's, none of them knew, but they retreated to allow her to pass and leave the substation. The officers then climbed down the ladder to arrest the occupants within, they had heard the violence from within and expected the worst. Aside from a variety of heavily injured occupants, they were all still alive, albeit some only just.

===

 As Pip came back to the waking world, his environment had changed significantly for the better.

Beneath him was a soft mattress that supported his body gently, while the bed itself had his upper half slightly raised. The pillows beneath his neck and head were softer than his own back at his dorm, he thought mildly as he opened his eyes and began to blink the burring away.

Before his vision returned he felt a weight over his shins, heavier than the thin sheet that covered the majority of his body. Hovering over him was a fellow Prey dressed in the uniform of a nurse. Her whiskers twitched as she smirked down at him as she adjusted a bag with clear liquid inside that was connected to his arm via a tube.

“Welcome back Mr Warin, so you are aware; you've been asleep for the best part of two days, but should make a full recovery shortly.”

He blinked and croaked in response from his incredibly dry throat. He tried to swallow to refresh himself as the nurse, satisfied with her work, walked around the bottom of the bed where he suddenly noticed the form of Natasha.

The medical ward he was in was obviously designed for creatures smaller than Natasha; the items, fixtures and beds were all a more ‘normal’ size to Pip’s perspective. However, even slouched as she was, Natasha took up an alarming amount of space, practically overtaking the bottom of his bed where the top half of her slept.

‘She must be sat on the floor while hunched over the bed’ Pip thought to himself.

“We moved the other patients once she refused to leave. The others were distressed despite it being on the news.”

“She refused… What... what was on the news?”

“Her rescue of you Mr Warin? Whatever the misunderstanding was the day before, word is she single handedly removed the beginning of another feral Predator ring. The reporters had followed the parade of police and reported it live. When she appeared like an angel of death, but carrying you; people didn’t know what to think.” The nurse shook her head.

“Tokens of praise and apology have been arriving whilst you’ve both been here. They are starting to take up too much room. I would have raised a complaint if not for the fact that everyone is still hesitant to stay in a room with a human…” The nurse continued, gesturing towards the entrance to the room where a pile of gifts, flowers and tokens of various sizes had overtaken one wall.

“Now you’re awake, I doubt there will be any need for you to stay much longer. You were suffering more from sleep deprivation rather than anything physically wrong, aside from some nasty bumps. We have however stitched up the claw marks on your back, although it is likely they will scar, and your fur may not return.”

Pip thanked the nurse before she retreated from the room to follow up on her other patients. Looking down at the blonde beauty, he recalled what he had seen down in the sewers.

He had described her before as a force of nature, when he had laid on top of her chest and listened to her heartbeat. Now he knew this description was too understated. She had been truly terrifying, her speed went beyond what was right for a creature at her size to be able to move.

He had felt the impacts of her hits, the reverberations of the strikes had made him wince with each blow. When she had been taken to the floor and the Saurian that had been hidden away tore at her neck, Pip had feared the worst.

But nothing could stop her, she was a tidal wave of anger, of something primal... feral, even...

Pip winced at his own thought, that he'd put her in the same category as those brutes.

Placing a small hand into her hair he stroked it through the silken mess. She looked tired, the three gouges in her cheek looked deep and were held closed by white stitches. If he had scars on his back, those would absolutely scar and all because he got into a mess he should have avoided.

His heart broke at the idea he had led her to harm.

A wordless groan of being pulled from sleep escaped her throat.

"Morning beautiful..." Pip whispered.

"Pip? Pip!" She exclaimed, waking up fully and rocking the bed in her attempt to straighten up.

"Ya’ awake! Oh I'm so sorry Pip! It's all my fault, if I'd just left ya’ alone ya’ wouldn't have been taken or threatened and everyone-"

The cascade of apologies and worry that spilled forth surprised him, he was expecting to be the one that was to apologise not for his saviour to best him to the punch, so to speak.

"...Natasha." He said simply, stalling her mid-sentence. 

"Sorry." She said meekly.

It didn't suit her. 

Pip hated the idea of her not being herself, but he wanted her to say her piece, it was important to her so it was important to him.

"I don’t believe there's anything for you to apologise for, but if you disagree, I accept your apology and want nothing more than to hear nothing else on the matter..."

Her shoulders slumped, as if he had single handedly removed the weight of the world off her shoulders.

“...its me who should be apologising."

"No, thats not-"

"Let me finish... please." He quietly begged.

She fell silent and waited for him.

"I knew better, you didn't." He began with a sigh. "There are... expectations of what is ‘normal’ of you and me, of a Predator and a Prey. But you weren't aware of these and shouldn't be and won’t be held accountable for them. I was, and I deliberately ignored them so I could selfishly spend time with someone I found exciting... Even when I knew and was duly warned, that it would all end in tears.”

He closed his eyes in confused shame.

"I came back and encouraged you because I found you attractive Natasha, I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, even though I knew it was more than likely that nothing good could have come from us spending time with each other. This whole mess is because I didn’t do what I was supposed to…” He couldn’t look at her right now, he had to tell her the truth, to make her understand that she was free from blame, and he wouldn’t hold anything against her when she defended her social standing by leaving him behind. Especially after he had intentionally undermined hers for his lust.

Humans were new to the whole mess; how could anyone blame them? Not him, he would never blame her.

“What a crock.” Natasha stated flatly, Pip snapped his head up in confusion. “Do I not get a say? Ya’ think I didn’t know what people might say when we waltzed off together? Don’t be making assumptions that I’m jus’ some wallflower who ain’t gonna’ say nothin’. Ya’ people got some ‘expectations’, just like everybody else in this universe. Ya’ think I haven’t had to clash with ‘expectations’ before?”

She ‘huffed’ and shuffled closer to the top of the bed before reaching out a hand to hold his chin between her large fingers.

“If I didn’t want to see ya’, I wouldn’t see ya’. If ya’ want to see me, I want ya’ to come see me. And there ain’t nothing anyone else is gonna’ say or do that’s gonna’ change this.”

She released him after making her point and looked away.

“…’Expectations’ my ass. Thought I got away from all that nonsense...” She mumbled to the empty ward.

“So… we’re, okay?” Pip asked, he was stunned she would not only disregard any issue but made him feel slightly put out for attempting to assume the responsibility over the matter.

“I’m frustrated Hun’, but all this has done is tell me that I need to get ya’ home and teach you properly; just how much ya’ mean to me, ya’ daft thing.” She said with a smile as she gazed back to him, putting an elbow on his bed whilst resting her chin in her hand. Her other hand came round and gently ran over his body over the thin covers.

“I think we need to start addressing things directly, no more beatin’ round the bush. Sound good?”

“Sounds good.” Squeaked Pip.

She leaned forwards, her face now dominated his vision. The soft closing of her eyes prompted Pip to do the same as his arms reached up to cup her face as her fingers curled around the back of his head with her nails scratching through his fur. Her lips touched his and whilst her bottom lip gently pressed against his own, her top lip brushed and pressed against his nose due to the difference in their sizes.

His world was one of softness and peppermint. This is what ‘heaven’ had to be like.

===

The journey back to his dorm was uneventful, but while he packed a bag for a stay away at Natasha’s Geegee was beside himself at the idea that Pip ‘hadn’t learnt his lesson’. Pip rolled his eyes and ignored him.

He understood his opinion, it took a verbal slap from Natasha for Pip to also give up on the social contract himself, he’d just wait for the geckin to come round and begin talking to Pip again. He vowed to be there for him when or if he did.

Once they got back to Natasha’s, Pip’s things were placed on the desk while Natasha whisked him off his feet and landed on the bed; laying on top of him and assaulting him again with wet kisses, some pecks and others lingered. He returned the favour; Natasha could feel the small wet pecks across her skin as he tried to match her ferocity.

“Hun’, I hope ya’ ready; because I’ve been waiting to eat ya’ up whole since ya’ walked into my Café.”

[flxwxr-bxy]

Hii hru?? If I may, can I request chuuya and ranpo having a crush then confessing Hcs? GN!reader too :>

Feel free to decline ^^ and have a great day :D

— BLUE SALVIA ☆

☾ Hi! Ty so much for your request and support I really appreciate it☆

☆ Genre: Fluff

☾ Character: Chuuya x Gn! Reader / Ranpo x Gn! Reader

☆ Warning: None!

☾ I am not a native English speaker, so I apologize if you find any spelling mistakes.☆

— Chuuya ☆

The kind of guy who asks for permission to court you.

It didn't take him long to realize his feelings for you, after all he doesn't spend much time with many people, so when he realized that he felt more at ease when he was with you and that he didn't have the need to go home if he was in the same room with you, it was a matter of time before he realized his crush

At first, he didn't know exactly what to do, but after figuring out that he couldn't keep it to himself, he decided that asking you for a date was definitely the best option.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous that you'd reject him, but it wasn't as if keeping his feelings to himself was any better, so he confidently walked up to you and looking deep into your eyes asked you out on a date.

Relieved the moment you accepted his offer, he made sure to make his feelings quite clear with actions and gifts, gifting you items you mentioned you liked and inviting you frequently to dinners.

This would continue for some time until he was certainly sure that your feelings for each other were the same, he confessed quite casually in one of your late night conversations and without helping himself he gave you a soft smile when his confession was accepted.

“I'm sure by now you should have realized my feelings for you, although I'm not going to lie and say I'm not scared about it, and what it might imply for our future, I can't pretend they don't exist either, so with that in mind what do you say, would you go out with me?”

— Ranpo ☆

Completely oblivious to his feelings

when I say it would take ranpo a long time to realize his crush, I mean it, he wouldn't question his feelings for you much because he also enjoys spending time with the other members of Ada, but what he couldn't realize was the way he treated you slightly differently than everyone else

inviting you to his research without realizing that he liked to brag about his ability and your praise, sometimes giving you some of his candy if you were feeling bad or just hungry and feeling a rather new sense of affection whenever you were around, or shared some of your food with him

he only started to question it if someone else mentioned these things to him, it wasn't until Poe mentioned how relaxed he looked every time you were around that he finally truly questioned whether he was in love

after coming to the conclusion that yes, he was in love with you, he decided that the best option (even if he already deduced it) was to see if you felt the same way, after all his ability was never wrong, was it? Yeah, that didn't make him any less anxious

You were quite surprised by his sudden confession, but you couldn't say you weren't relieved that he felt the same, so the two decided to go on a date the next day and parted ways.

Ranpo relieved that he wasn't the only one in love, decided to show you his feelings in the best way he could think of, actions

trying to spend more time with you in what he hoped was a not-so-obvious action, or if you let him hug you from time to time, even sleeping on your shoulder on the days he really didn't have much to do. At some point, even Ada's members wondered if you were already dating and just didn't mention it, hoping everyone would assume.

Even if he wasn't oblivious to your feelings for him now, it didn't make him any less anxious the moment he asked you out, what if you decided you didn't want him anymore? How could he face you after you turned him down? So on one of your dates he decided to ease his heart and talk about how he really felt, and with one of the happiest smiles you've ever seen him have, you accepted his confession.

“Hey, I know this is pretty sudden, but I can't keep it to myself any longer, I'm in love with you, and I'd love to go out with you, that's if you accept my feelings. How about it? It's not such a bad idea, right?”.

☾ Author's note: Blue salvia is a flower that means "thinking of you" . Pls reblog and follow if you want, I hope you have a lovely day or night. :) ☆

All works belong to @ flxwxr-bxy don't copy, translate or repost in other sites without my permission. Thanks ♡

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Halloween = candies, so can you just mix some sweets into their play, please? Or a regular domestic submission kink. Literally anything that puts Dabi in cute&sexy apron works for me. (I can't stop wondering since chapter 8.)

Pairing: ShigaDabi

Contents: Non-graphic descriptions of murder/blood, crossdressing, sex toys, orgasm denial/delay, prostate massage, prostate milking, handjobs, intercrural sex, objectification, Master/Slave dynamic

When he started running with the League it was just out of convenience. He wasn't looking for anything else, definitely wasn't looking to play these kinds of games with any of the other members. He's been good about not letting any of his idle past times reflect or connect back to his more overtly villainous work, which is why he uses knives rather than his quirk when he's out like this. He had not expected Shigaraki to follow him one night as he made his way to the home of the social worker who had been assigned to his house after his mother burned Shoto. Someone who should have seen how much worse everything else was and should have stepped in. Hadn't because it would reflect poorly on the number two hero. 

He had been sitting on the living room floor, blood cooling against his skin and on the carpet when Duster had let himself in. There had been a long pause as Shigaraki took in the mess he'd made of the body and Dabi's quirk had started to build under his skin. He hadn't killed anyone outside of a raid before, and certainly not like this. Was not prepared for any of the League to find out what he did when he wasn't around them. But Duster had just dropped onto one of the armchairs, crossed his legs and told him to show him how he cleaned up after himself. He showed the other man the methodical way he broke down the body, showed him how he cleaned up all of the mess until the house was spotless. Liked doing those parts as much as the killing, it soothed the wild, furious thing inside of him to just slowly bring things back to order. And when he was finished, with nothing but the garbage bags ready to be disposed of, Duster stood up, and turned those to dust, letting him erase the evidence even more thoroughly. 

Probably weird that vacuuming up the last of the mess under his watchful eyes had started to make him squirm and his skin go hot, but Tomura is the one who caught him by the hips and pushed him up against the wall and claimed his mouth in a rough, possessive kiss. Had brought him upstairs and fucked him in the dead woman's bed. And from then on it wasn't just him sneaking out for his extracurriculars, wasn't just the killing he looked forward to either. 

This is the first time they've done this since taking over the PLF and Duster had cleared their schedules for a few days, had given Dabi a small list of people to pick from, people who had nice, isolated houses and who wouldn't be missed for the few days that they were going to take. He'd settled on a property developer who was working on a project, making a perfect street of high-class suburban homes. Has been living in one of them himself while the rest of the project is awaiting some kind of setback to be resolved before construction finishes. Dabi picked out the house and Tomura gave him a kiss and sent him on his way. 

Duster always lets him do this part in private. Never intrudes on him carving into his victims. Never asked how he chose the ones he started with before he was helping, and they never talk about this when they're doing any of their other work. The others assume that they're going off for work or to fuck, and they never correct them. Dabi doesn't think that Spinner or Compress would be thrilled to find out what they are doing, and this is private anyways. This is special. 

He always makes a mess, but it's not necessarily about causing pain. He always keeps his victims gagged tight anyway so he doesn't have to listen to them scream, plead, or cry, while he's working. He just likes to make a mess. Especially now, especially when the messier he is, the more Tomura will want him to clean up. By the time the property developer is no longer breathing, Dabi is slumped against the island, blood spilled all over the kitchen floor, panting softly. Never used to get hard when he was doing this, but he figures that his body knows what's coming next, thinks he looks forward to this almost more than the killing at this point. He texts Tomura that he's finished and hops up on the island to wait, watching the blood spread and spread across the floor. 

He hears the front door open and shut softly, the lock clicking back into place and his anticipation burns a little hotter through his veins. Tomura finds him quickly enough, the smell of blood must be overpowering as it trails from the room, and he enters with the little black duffle that makes Dabi's cock twitch in his pants. Red eyes trail over the body, over his mess, before they land on him again, and Dabi spreads his legs a little wider, so Tomura can't miss the way his arousal is tenting his pants. Been months since they were able to do this, and that's probably the only reason he's feeling indulgent enough to come over to him and pull him into a hot, demanding kiss. 

Dabi wants to touch him, hook his hands in his collar, tangle them in his hair, and pull him close, but he doesn't. There's blood on his hands, and if he makes Tomura messy, then he definitely won't get anything else before he has to clean up. Lets out a soft moan when Tomura doesn't tease, when he reaches for the button on his jeans instead. Neither of them wear their villain gear when they do this, opting for civilian clothes instead, and not having his belt to get through means that Tomura has four fingers around his cock much faster than he normally would. Tomura's mouth trails along his jaw, down his neck as he strokes over his cock, the leather of his gloves a little smoother than skin, but still probably a little too much friction. Makes every movement twinge with just a touch of discomfort as he works his hand over him. Perfect, brings his pleasure higher and higher. Lets himself savor it with the scent of blood thick in the air. Tomura doesn't rush, never really likes to in the first place, brings him to his peak slowly, makes it last until he's cooked the blood on his clothes to scabs, and the stains have gone brownish and tacky across the tiled floor. Shifts his hand and position so that when Dabi does fall over the edge, his cum joins the mess on the floor too. 

Tomura only gives him a few seconds to recover before he's pressing a kiss to the edge of his lips, "Come on, time for our walkthrough." Dabi tucks himself back into his pants, denim stiff with dried blood, and hops off the counter eagerly. 

He likes this part too. They walk through the whole house together, getting a sense of the layout. It's a big house, three bedrooms, an office, two and a half baths, living room, dining room, family room, laundry room, and kitchen with a less formal eating area. The whole property is fenced in with a big yard out front and out back. This is the kind of house that people buy when they have a family. But as they walk through, Dabi only sees evidence of a man who has lived alone his whole life. The bedroom is messier than is becoming of a man in his thirties, his office equally a disaster. Aside from his corpse and the subsequent mess, there were dishes piled up in the kitchen sink, and Dabi can tell that he has never dusted a day in his life. It's not disgusting, but it's clear that he was the type of person who cleaned only when he had to. Which means he's going to have plenty of chores to do today. 

When they're finished they stop back in the master bedroom. 

"You can go shower, I'll leave everything that I want you to wear here along with your chores that you need to finish before dinner." Tomura's voice cool and commanding. A tone that used to put him on edge but that immediately has his insides going a little soft and his head a little floaty now. 

"Yes, sir." But he stays where he is for another moment. Master must have missed this as much as he has because he indulges him again, pressing a soft kiss to the edge of his lips. Could melt him into a puddle with that alone. But when Tomura pulls away Dabi goes right over to the bathroom. 

///

He should shower first, but it's a bit of a compulsion to start by cleaning the glass cubicle thoroughly as soon as he sees it. Scrubs it spotless before he gets inside and washes away the sweat and blood that are clinging to his skin, and then cleans the shower again to make sure any trace of that is gone as well. Thankfully there are some towels in the linen cabinet, but they smell like they've been there for a while and Dabi figures that supports the thought that the man hadn't had any visitors in a very long time. He dries off and exits the room. Tomura has left his toys on top of the nightstand, his clothes hanging on the back of the door. Dabi goes to the toys first. He expects his cage and a plug, but he gives a softly surprised, pleased sound when he finds a plug and cock ring instead. One that will let him get hard, even if he won't be able to cum until Master says he can, if he does. Left him lube too and Dabi puts on his ring and then sets about opening himself up for the plug. He doesn't tease, doesn't try to make it feel good. The house is so messy and his Master is waiting. He still gets a little hard by the time he's sinking the plug inside, but he ignores the stirrings of his arousal, cleaning up the excess lube so he can finish getting dressed. 

The dark blue dress that Tomura's left for him wouldn't be scandalous on Toga, because on Toga the hem would probably hit her mid-thigh. But on him, the dress barely covers him, will be showing at least half of his ass as soon as he bends over because Master didn't leave him any panties today. The garment is simple, thin straps and a low scoop-neck, fitted through the bodice and flaring slightly at the waist to give him the A-line silhouette that Tomura always seems to like him in. The apron is new, white, and as short as his dress, thick lacy straps to tie it in place, and lace all around the edges. It's cute and feminine and it is not helping his cock soften any, making a very obvious bulge in the fabric that makes him squirm a little. Can't help it as he steps into the little black kitten heels too. He would never pick something like this to wear, but knowing it makes his Master happy sets pleasure curling through his veins. Dabi does his best to ignore that as he picks up the last thing that Tomura left for him. His list of chores. 

They aren't anything he didn't expect, clean up the kitchen, wash the sheets, clean the bathroom, and on and on. Lots of things for him to do by the time that he's supposed to start preparing dinner. It's enough things that it will be difficult to finish all of it by the time dinner rolls around if he's not careful and on his best behavior. He wants to make sure that everything is perfect before then. Dabi starts by stripping the bed and finding the laundry basket, already full of the dead man's clothes, and call it cheating, but he brings the lot of those into the bathroom and drops them into the tub, burning them into ash in a handful of seconds ant opening the window and turning on the fan to clear out the smell from the room. There. He will vacuum up the ash before he scrubs out the tub later. 

Laundry basket now empty, he strips the bed, gathers his clothes, the towels he wanted to wash, and the sheets from the guest room, and all of the blankets he finds. Sorts them into appropriate loads and takes them down to get started. He makes sure that the timer alarm is turned on so he'll be able to hear it and then goes to the kitchen. The body is dust, turned into a thick disgusting sludge across the floor and Dabi's cleaning supplies have been brought in. They never know what they're going to find so before they go on an outing, they pick out groceries and Dabi packs a bag with everything he might need to clean the house. Is extremely glad he brought a mop because clearly this man hadn't thought of that himself when he'd moved in. Dabi puts on his black gloves to protect the seams across his palms from the harsh chemicals before he really begins. Ends up having to wash the dishes before he starts in on the mess on the floor, just so he can actually get his bucket into the sink, and then spends half an hour getting up the sludgy mix of dust and blood. Blushes as he cleans up his spend from the floor too. 

By the time he's ready to move on, the washer beeps and he goes to change out loads. Comes back and gets his scrub brush and onto his hands and knees, and goes across the entire floor until the slate gray tiles shine. Is so focused on his task that he has no idea when his master found his way back to the room. Tomura is leaning against the doorway, watching him, until he stands to empty his bucket again. He startles slightly, nearly spilling the dirty water across the floor.  

"Sir?" Still hours before dinner, certainly doesn't think he's been making too much noise. 

But there's nothing reprimanding in the look his master is giving him. "I know you have a lot to do, but when you're finished in here, why don't you work on the office next? That way I can go work and be out of your way while you finish up down here." Should have reprimanded him for not thinking of that first himself. Is supposed to be making things comfortable for his lover, making it easier for him to work when he's already being so good to him and taking time out of their busy schedules for this. 

"Yes, sir, I'll get started right away." 

"Finish what you're doing, you don't have to rush." Feels Tomura's eyes dragging over him as he continues over to the sink to pour out the bucket. "Do you like your new clothes, sweetheart?" 

Dabi's face goes a little hot, acutely aware of just how short the dress is in the back. "Yes, sir. Thank you for picking them out for me." He's been careful not to get any blood on the apron. He knows, of course, that the point of it is to keep his dress clean for dinner, but he doesn't want to get anything on the crisp white fabric either, so he has resolved to just be extra careful. 

"You're welcome, firefly." His eyes sweep across the room, already so much improved compared to how it looked when he'd first come into the house. "You're doing such a good job, darling." Voice so soft with his fondness. Dabi tries not to preen, but he can't fight the dopey smile that warms his features. His head feels like it's floating a little more just knowing that he's making things the way Tomura likes them. 

"Thank you, sir." The dryer dings in the distance and Tomura straightens from the doorway. 

"Keep being good and we'll see about a reward after dinner." 

"Yes, sir." Reward enough to just make his master happy. He goes and takes the sheets out of the dryer, bringing them upstairs and starting to make the bed before he returns to the kitchen.

With the floors all cleaned, Dabi sets about wiping down the surfaces, cabinets, counters, the refrigerator, and finally putting away the dishes and scrubbing the sink. It doesn't take long and when he's finished only the right chemicals and black lights will be able to tell this was a crime scene. Everything else is perfect and will be waiting for him when he comes back down to start dinner. 

Kitchen finished, he goes up to the office. There are open files, blueprints, and other papers spread out across the desk and Dabi starts with those. The ones that are half out of their files are put back into them, the ones he can't find a home for at a glance get added to the garbage bag he'd brought up, the waste bin beside the desk getting emptied out, and the empty coffee mugs set aside to be brought downstairs. He opens the blinds to let in some sun, dusts everything, vacuums the room, wipes down everything else with the furniture polish that he'd brought with him. Makes this room clean and comfortable too before going to find Tomura. 

Master is in the living room, reading through some of the reports he'd missed while with the doctor, and doesn't even glance up at him when he enters the room. "The office is ready for you, sir." Tomura raises a hand to dismiss him and Dabi sets his mind to his next tasks. It's his job to make things nice, he doesn't deserve his master's full attention until he's willing to give it, until he's earned it. 

Dabi is just checking his list and trying to decide where his time is best spent next when the presence of his plug becomes much more insistent as the toy starts to pulse and vibrate gently inside of him. He gasps, immediately having to brace himself against the edge of the counter as the vibrations make his legs feel weak beneath him. Wasn't expecting the toy to start to move. His thighs tremble, his hole clenching greedily around the plug as it sends wonderful distracting pleasure across his nerves. He's panting and trembling, his cock starting to harden again, but he does his best to focus. To keep to his tasks. 

Still a little shaky as he goes room-by-room downstairs, but after half an hour, the toy stops its gentle vibrations. Dabi gives himself just a moment to catch his breath, his cock so hard that he's tenting his skirt and apron, pulling it up high enough that he's having to tug at the hem constantly to not be completely exposed in the front too. His cock is aching. He's so hard, but he doesn't touch himself, doesn't pull at his ring to get any relief, just refocuses himself on his work. He sets about cleaning and polishing furniture, dusting, sweeping, and vacuuming. He takes out the trash-- the bins thankfully in the garage rather than outside--, puts away anything the former owner left out, and keeps periodically switching out the loads of laundry. 

With his chores downstairs finished and the last load of laundry tumbling away in the dryer, Dabi makes his way back upstairs, taking the same care in the messy bedroom. Finds more cups and a few plates in the room, cleans up trash, finds more clothes beneath the bed that he does just toss back into the hamper this time. He cleans up the room methodically, making sure that every inch of it is spotless and that the bed is made perfectly. He removes everything from the nightstand, atop it and in the drawers, in case Tomura wants to have easy access to anything else he'd brought with them if Dabi earns a reward. By the time he's satisfied with his work on this level too, he's right on schedule and goes downstairs to start making dinner. 

Dabi's mind wanders as he starts to cook. When he was a child doing the household chores, he thought, it was work for women. Thought that way because Mom and Fuyumi did that while he was training with Dad or studying. But when Natsuo's quirk manifested and it was ice too, he also started to join in with more of the chores. When his own quirk went wrong, Dabi was relegated to the tasks as well. He hadn't been happy about that at first, but then Mom had been pregnant again with Shoto, and she wasn't up for being able to do as much. He'd stepped in, trying to make things perfect, hoping if he could at least do that right, then maybe Enji would give him even a scrap of acknowledgement. And it hadn't worked. 

He hadn't given chores or cleaning much thought until he started killing. Until he was getting ready to leave his second victim's body and he saw the blood just everywhere and it started to bother him. Cleaned up a little, didn't think anything of it. By the third or forth he started waiting and watching, until he was sure his victims lived alone and he wouldn't be bothered. Then he would sneak in, kill them, and clean up, staying in the house until the garbage bags full of flesh started to smell or any neighbors or friends started to knock, text, or call to check up on the victim. Those scattered times he spent in houses and taking whatever things of value and cash he could, were probably the only reason he'd made it to adulthood without starving or dying of an infection. He had absolutely not given any thought to this being sexual, didn't get off on mutilating people, wasn't aroused by corpses, just set something broken under his skin a little righter making someone else stop breathing. At least it hadn't been sexual until Tomura started coming with him. Until Duster was rewarding him for being good and his body started to anticipate some form of extra release after the killing. Didn't know that cleaning, and cooking, and being at his master's beck and call could feel good too. That this was a form of submission in it of itself. 

But Dabi doesn't think Tomura ever makes him float so high or for so long as he does when he lets him stay like this for a whole weekend. When his master gives him a list of things to do, expectations to meet, and he knows he's not supposed to do anything else. Doesn't even have to think. Just has to do as he's told to keep feeling so perfect. He cooks, makes sure that everything is ready and then goes to set the table. Finds Tomura making his way through the halls, inspecting his work. When he sees him with silverware and glasses he pauses him. 

"You've done such a good job today, pet," and Dabi's whole chest goes warm, his head a little fuzzy. 

"Thank you, sir." 

"You can sit with me at the table tonight, precious." 

"Thank you, sir." Tomura lets him go on his way, finishing setting the table. Slaves normally sit at their Master's feet while eating, sometimes when he doesn't finish his work adequately enough he doesn't even get to kneel on a cushion while he does. But Master must be so pleased with his work today--

Dabi yelps when the plug sparks back to life and nearly drops a glass. He fumbles, but he catches it, bracing his hand against the edge of the table as his thighs immediately start to shake and tremble. The vibrations are much harder than they were earlier, even though the pattern is still slow, and it has Dabi gasping and letting out a weak moan as it moves. It's difficult for him to focus on getting things set up, his hands shaking badly as he works, but not nearly as badly as his thighs. His cock, teased already once, starts to harden a bit and Dabi tries to move quickly. He doesn't know how long his master will keep the toy on, and he would really like to be sitting before his skirt is tented too high to cover him. Doesn't even think about taking off his apron, the lace hanging a few inches lower than his dress and giving him a modicum of extra coverage as he keeps his head down as Tomura comes into the dining room and he goes to get their food. 

He brings their meals in, pours their drinks, and takes his seat as quickly as he can without doing anything sloppily. Knows he's bright red as he has to sit down, making the toy press even more insistently inside of him and the sound rumbling out through the room as Tomura watches him with amused eyes as he picks up his wine glass and takes a sip. They start to eat, and Tomura is... talking. Saying things about work, things that Dabi should be paying attention to, but the plug is pressing against his prostate and his cock is so hard. He's trying to focus, but he can barely keep his wits about him enough to try and eat. He needs to be quiet, can't squirm around, is supposed to be focused on his master's needs, not on what his needy body wants even if it is his master who is working him up so deliberately. 

"You're not eating much tonight, sweetheart. Are you feeling alright?" 

Dabi's breath is a little shallow, squeezing his thighs together so tightly as he tries to focus, like that will somehow mute the vibrations inside of him and doesn't just make them worse. "I--I'm alright, Master. I'm... not hungry." 

"That's a shame, you're such a good cook, darling, and you worked so hard today. I want to make sure you're enjoying yourself too." 

The vibrations stay at the same maddening pace all while he's speaking, watching him with a mild, pleasant smile as if he's not responsible for the feeling. "I am, sir," does his best not to keen as Tomura taps his phone, sitting on the table as he starts to speak, the vibrations kicking higher and a little faster. "H-happy just knowing you like it," it's so hard to fight back a moan as this new pattern makes him so, so much hotter. Makes him feel even softer and more floaty when Tomura catches one of his hands and presses a gentle kiss to his knuckles. 

Dabi manages a few more bites of his food as Tomura finishes eating, and when they're done, Dabi feels his face go impossibly hotter as he realizes that he needs to clear the table. To go back to the kitchen and clean up the dishes before he gets his evening chores. Which means he has to stand. Tomura waits, watching him, enjoying his embarrassment as much as every other form of submission that he's given him so far today. He swallows thickly, trying to pull on the hem of his skirt and apron, but it's no use, so short now that he's completely hard, that the fabric is half exposing him, his cock a blatant tent beneath the frills. Dabi's humiliation swells through him as he forces himself to stand, hands trembling badly as he starts to gather the dishes. 

Master watches him for a moment, and Dabi's pleasure goes even hotter when he feels his eyes dragging over him. But Master gets up. He doesn't usually stay to watch him work, which is probably good because he's shaking so badly from his arousal that he's really worried he's going to fumble with the dishes again, and he doesn't want Tomura to think that he's trying to misbehave or make a mess. He wants to be good, he can be, he can ignore how good the plug feels and how badly his cock is aching. But it's so much harder to be good when he knows his master is watching him. 

Impossible to be good when Tomura doesn't leave, when instead he is coming up behind him, hands wrapping around his hips and pressing the tops of his thighs into the table as his body molds along his spine. And Dabi can't do anything but let out a pathetic little keen when he feels his master's cock half hard against him, the rough fabric of his pants against his ass because his dress is just too short. His hips twitch back. He doesn't mean to, knows he's not allowed, but feeling his master's cock against him while the plug is still vibrating inside feels so good that he moves before his brain catches up to him. 

"Firefly," And Tomura's voice immediately goes cold again, the hands tightening on his hips hard enough to hurt. Makes his cock twitch even as he scrambles. 

"I-- I'm so sorry, Master, I didn't mean to." Does his best to hold still, head dipping down in apology. Has him looking at his cock pressing up against his skirts, sees that there's a wet spot starting to form through the fabric of his apron. Oh no, making a mess even with his ring on. Master will be so disappointed in him. "I was surprised, I-- I didn't think I'd earned your attention." There's a beat and Dabi holds his breath. An excuse like that could get him punished for making assumptions or if Tomura is feeling lenient, he might let it go by unremarked on. 

Master lets out a slow sigh, "I'm not certain that you have, but my pretty pet is shaking so badly I don't know if he'll be able to even walk to the kitchen, let alone do it while carrying glass." Dabi's face is so hot he's worried that he might start to smoke. One hand moves away from his hip as Tomura's chin rests against his shoulder, "Already making another mess," he clicks his tongue as he sees the little bloom of precum on the fabric. "At least this one will be easier to clean up." And he pulls the fabric up, letting it pool around the base of his cock so his flushed, dripping member is exposed with the lace nestled around him. "So cute like this, baby boy." 

The murmured praise alone has him moaning softly. But Tomura doesn't touch his cock, instead one of the hands disappears again and Dabi's legs nearly buckle underneath him as the toy changes its rhythm again, a building pattern that goes from the lowest setting to the highest in a repeating wave. Grips the table edge to keep upright as pleasure saturates his whole body. "M-Master--" 

"Shh," A softer admonishment than he'd gotten used to receiving when they were doing this more regularly. "Pretty toys only speak when asked to." Lips against the shell of his ear as Tomura trails two fingers down the underside of his cock, rubbing over his ladder. "And toys that can't behave have to be put aside until they learn how to be good." 

Dabi holds back any other pleads that were sitting on his tongue, but he can't stop the little moans and pants that are coming out of him as Tomura teases his cock as the plug pulses and pulses inside of him. He tries so hard to stay still and let his Master do what he wants to him. Dabi knows what he wants. He wants Tomura to take off his ring and let him cum after keeping him on edge all throughout dinner. He wants Tomura to bend him over the table, to push his skirt up and pull out his plug and fuck him full of his cum. He wants his master to take away his plug afterwards and make him try to keep his cum inside by holding his muscles tight as he goes about his evening chores. Wants to be punished for making a mess when it inevitably ends up trickling down his thighs when Tomura makes him hold on for hours. 

But he's Tomura's plaything, and he's happy to take anything that his master will give him. Dabi's breath catches in his throat when Tomura's hand goes down to his balls, stroking and rubbing, and making his need so much higher, before he touches the ring. But he doesn't take it off and he does his best to stomach his disappointment. Loosens it just a bit, just enough that his pre is dripping out a little faster. Then his hand goes to the base of his plug and adjusts that too. Makes sure that it's angled to press and pulse directly on his prostate. He can't beg, not allowed to speak, but Tomura has no qualms with him moaning and whimpering as the vibrations go through him and turn his spine into a molten puddle. Gasps when Tomura pressed his fingers to his lips. 

Oh, he opens his mouth so readily, takes them in as far as his master will let him. His tongue curls around them, between them, lapping at his skin as he sucks on the appendages. He feels so good, he wants to make his master feel this good. Would readily give up his own orgasm if Tomura let him suck his cock. Nearly gags himself on the fingers in his mouth when Tomura pulls at the base of his plug, dragging it out so that the widest part is stretching his rim and rolling it there to make his muscles go even wider to accommodate the movement, and then pushing it back inside roughly so that the vibrations hit their peak at the same time as it pushes against his prostate. Good, feels so good. His knees feel weak, his whole body feels weak, he doesn't think he would even be standing anymore if Tomura's weight weren't bracing him against the table. He's breathing so heavily, smoke starting to trickle out of his seams as his master works his pleasure higher, makes his body hotter. 

Dabi whines when Master takes away his fingers, only then realizes that his chin is slick. Making a mess, drooling because he wasn't swallowing enough around the moans that are spilling out of him. But Tomura doesn't chastise him, just pushes in the plug deep before shifting slightly. Dabi almost sobs when he hears his zipper pull. Never earns Master's cock before finishing his evening chores--

And he still doesn't get it. Hears the slick slide of Tomura's hand over himself for a moment before he's making Dabi spread his legs a little more. But he doesn't take out his plug. Instead he feeds his cock between his thighs, forcing Dabi to bring them back together and focus on keeping them tight even as his body shivers uncontrollably as his arousal goes so hot he might be choking on embers. Tomura shifts, giving a short shallow thrust that still has his head brushing past the taut skin of his balls and the sensation of any part of him being used for his master's pleasure sends him into the stars. Dabi moans so loudly and Tomura chuckles against his neck, pressing a kiss there. 

"Does that feel good, baby boy?" 

"Yes, yes, yes, please Master," he gasps a sob catching in his throat as he squeezes his thighs around his cock, nails biting into the edge of the table as he tries so hard to remember not to move. 

Tomura hums in the back of his throat, giving another slow thrust. "My pretty toy. You look so cute with your blushing cock pushing up your skirt and your pretty hole all flushed and fluttering every time I touch you." Dabi doesn't know if his cock has ever been this hard before, leaking constantly, but he won't go over the edge unless Tomura takes off his ring. As if he can read his mind, one of Master's hands shifts back to his cock as he keeps thrusting slowly between his thighs. Teases his fingers around his head, down his ladder, back to the silicon nestled at his base and around his balls. Dabi gives another weak sob, the pressure building at his root is starting to hurt with how high his arousal has gone. "You want to cum, don't you sweetheart?" Dabi gasps, nodding desperately, "Do you think you've earned that?" 

The frantic nods stop abruptly and Dabi bites back a desperate sob as he tries to get enough breath back to speak, "I-- I'm Master's toy." He manages, voice thinner than he wants it to be. "I only earn what you say I do." 

"That's right, precious. And you haven't earned that yet, but I'm so proud of how well-behaved you're being, baby." Dabi can't help sobbing now, bloody tears slipping across his cheeks even as he whimpers, 

"Thank you, sir." 

Tomura nearly purrs as he starts to cry in earnest, thrusts going a little harder and faster as he moves between his legs. Master always likes it when he cries. Master strokes his cock and tears another rough sob out of him, the pleasure spiraling into pain from how hard he is and how long it's been. "Hurts, pet?" 

"Yes, master." 

"Okay, baby boy, still have so much to do before we see if you get anything else tonight. Been so well-behaved so far that I'm going to help make you feel better, sweetheart." 

"Th-thank you, sir." 

"You're welcome, baby." 

Dabi can't make sense of how he's planning on helping while his cock is still moving between his thighs and there's a hand stroking his, but after a second the vibrations change again. The plug stays at its highest intensity, no pattern, no relief, just the relentless buzz of it against his prostate. And then Tomura's other hand is at the base again, fucking it roughly into his body in time with the thrusts between his thighs. Dabi sobs as he half buckles over against the table. The pressure in his body, in his cock, his balls, is getting so much worse as the sensations all build and build. 

Tomura hums, hand moving from his cock to press down between his shoulder blades so that Dabi is actually bent over the table. He keeps his head down, forehead against the polished wood, can see his cock flushed dark and angry in the nest of lace as the table bites bruises into the tops of his thighs as he's pushed against the edge with each fresh thrust from his master. Chokes on smoke when he sees Tomura's head peek out from his thighs when he presses in as far as he can. He feels so good, and not good enough, and his master is using his body for his pleasure, and Dabi is going to fall apart. 

When the next bead of precum forms at his tip it's white and milky as it drips onto the table top. Oh, his whole body shudders. It's been so long since his master did this to him. Dabi sobs his relief when the aching, burning pressure in him starts to unravel. It's so much gentler than an orgasm, nowhere near as all-consuming and powerful as one, but it's perfect. It feels so good because his master chose to give this to him even though he didn't need to. Could have used him no matter what. Dabi moans and whimpers as that first drop is followed swiftly by another, and another, until there is a constant stream of this thinner cum pouring out of his cock and spreading across the tabletop. Little moans keep leaving him as he spills and spills, pressure slowly ebbing from inside of him and letting him float even higher. Letting him focus on just keeping his thighs tight for Tomura as he fucks into the seal of them. His cock is still hard, but not nearly as flushed or painful as it was by the time his prostate can't give anything else. The toy buzzing inside of him too much now, making him so sore and sensitive, but he doesn't protest. Doesn't want to distract Master as he starts to move harder and faster between his legs. 

Still has to wait a few minutes before Tomura is pushing deep between his thighs and his cum is splashing against the underside of his cock, more of it splattering against the table and mingling with the puddle he'd left over the surface. Dabi gives another soft moan, somehow feels even further away from his skin seeing the evidence of his master's pleasure, knowing he was able to give that pleasure by letting his body be used. Not allowed to speak unless spoken to, would be tripping on 'I love you's if he were. The plug stops vibrating and the last trickles of tension leave Dabi's body as Tomura pulls himself from between his legs and he hears his master fixing his clothes. 

"Stand up straight, baby boy, don't want to get your cute new clothes any dirtier." 

It takes a lot of effort but he makes himself straighten after a moment, managing to keep the hem of his skirt and apron out of the mess. Tomura looks at the puddle over the table and then presses a kiss to his temple as a hand reaches to his still half-hard cock. It's too much sensation after everything else and Dabi whines softly. 

"There, precious, now you'll be able to do the rest of your chores without being distracted. What do you say?" 

"Thank you, Master." 

"You're welcome, baby." Another soft kiss that Dabi all but melts into. "You're going to start by cleaning up this mess, sweetheart. I suppose it's good that you didn't have much for dinner." 

His cheeks heat up, "Yes, sir." 

"And when you're finished you're going to tidy up in here and in the kitchen, you can come up to the office and get your new list when you're done." 

"Yes, sir." 

"Don't get anything else on your clothes or you'll have to wear your cage for the rest of the weekend." 

"Yes, sir." 

"My perfect, obedient plaything," Tomura purrs, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Get to work." 

He doesn't bother to respond, Master has already given him something more important to do with his mouth as he leans down and laps up some of their cum. Tomura is always so indulgent with his needs, with how he has to make such bloody messes from time to time. He's more than happy to make things neat and perfect for his master in turn. 

Thanks for submitting!

[acacia-may]

Acacia's Definitive Defense of Langris x Finesse

No one asked about this pairing, but I'm going to ramble about them anyway... especially since I realized I don't think I've ever actually written a proper post about them as this has been sitting in my drafts for over a year (A/N: Yikes! Sorry friends. I completely forgot I wrote this until today when I tried to find that post I was absolutely certain I had made about Langris x Finesse only to find it buried in my unposted drafts 😅🙈 But I'm posting it now to coincide with the ship ask game so it kind of works...? Maybe? I have no excuses...).

Anyways, dear goodness do I have thoughts about this ship. I’m not sure I can even wrangle them all, but I am going to try my best.

I’m sure it’s pretty clear from my blog that I have a deep love for my spatial mage boys and want good things for them which is one of the main reasons why I have a lot of concerns about the whole House Vaude soap opera. A friend of mine (irl) and I once discussed that plotline for literally 6 hours so I could go on and on about this for ages, but I have tried my best to be brief. That didn't really happen so I apologize in advance for all of the rambling.

I've tried to keep the focus of this post on Langris and Finesse's relationship, so please check out this post if you want to hear my many thoughts on the House Vaude succession drama as whole and in general. To keep things organized, I've divided this discussion into 2 main subsections for clarity under the cut!

(Warnings: Black Clover spoilers and discussion of some heavier topics such as childhood trauma and abuse. Arranged marriage is also mentioned)

Why I Think Langris and Finesse Genuinely Love Each Other (not necessarily in a romantic way but definitely in a selfless care and concern kind of way)

One of my most basic premises for my personal interpretation of Langris' character really comes down to the fact that I think what Langris actually wants more than anything else is unconditional love and to be accepted for who he is (rather than what he does/his accomplishments). He wants to have people who love him, a family—but he'd never admit this because he is convinced he'll never get it. He is convinced that love needs to be earned and he can't earn it, and his relationship with Lady Finesse is a perfect example of this, I think.

It hurts Langris that she is just the kindest person ever and she doesn't like/love him (or such is the reality in Langris' mind anyway given the fact that he has carried around that one time she complimented Finral as "she hates me" for literal years in the canon. But I digress). Langris doesn't like games he can't see a possibility of winning. He closes himself off from love and building meaningful relationships because he doesn't think he'll "win" people's love in the end. He's very cynical and jaded in this way, but more than that, he's wounded. It comes from a place of being denied love without strings attached, without conditions for his entire life and of being told his by his parents that love has to be earned and being convinced that he can't earn it, that nothing he does will ever be good enough and that he will never deserve the love he so desperately craves. And in that way, it comes from a fear of being hurt and rejected. When you care about someone, you give them the power to hurt you—and Langris doesn't want that kind of vulnerability. So I think he just completely counts himself out of the running when it comes to Finesse and defers to his brother—assuming (probably correctly) that she’d choose Finral if she was given a choice between the two of them.

All of that said, he can't quite stop himself from caring for her with a genuine love and respect (not necessarily in a romantic sense but he does care for her)—it’s just sealed off somewhere and not something he really thinks about or allows himself to feel (let alone label) until his brother "declaring war" on him brings all of that to the surface and he kind of has to reconcile how much he wants to be the Head of House Vaude (what he’s worked for his entire life) with how much he wants Lady Finesse to be happy. I love how in that scene there is actually a moment (at least in the anime) in which "the camera" turns and we're watching the scene unfold from Langris' eyes/perspective immediately before he gets involved and tells Finral to clean up his act.

(A/N: If you listen very carefully you can hear the sound of Langris' entire world falling apart...)

Okay, bad jokes aside, this is a huge moment for Langris. It takes him all of five seconds to decide that Lady Finesse's happiness is far more important to him than House Vaude, than his title, his future, his own dreams and aspirations that he has worked for literally his entire life and, ultimately, is more important than everything he has looked to for his own self-worth and fulfillment up unto that point (which causes him to have a bit of an existential crisis as he tries to figure out who he is without those things, without being the next Head of House Vaude, but I digress again). It is an incredible act of love to set aside what someone wants for themselves in order to make another person happy—to choose what is best for another person even at great personal sacrifice. Regardless of how you want to qualify that love (romantic or platonic), it does not diminish the gravity of Langris' sacrifice and the willingness he shows to choose Finesse's happiness over the things that are (seemingly) the most important to him in the world.

Up until this point, Langris is this incredibly goal-oriented character who is set on becoming the best, the strongest, and eventually the head of House Vaude which comes off as self-interested and a little ruthless in his willingness to do whatever it takes to achieve his goals, but suddenly, here he is, ready to give all of that up so that Lady Finesse can have the chance to be happy. It's almost like he is saying (honestly, far louder and clearer than any words possibly could), "I love you more than all of that."

Why else would he be helping his brother take over as heir to House Vaude when that actually seems to be something Langris wants for himself? (I know the poll I ran examined some different ideas and interpretations but that's always been my personal take on it). It’s almost like in that moment, Langris has realized that he can’t make Lady Finesse happy (even if he wants to), but he thinks that Finral can so he wants to make Finral into the best he can be for her.

Once Langris is reasonably sure that Finral is at a place that he can make Finesse happy and has become a man "worthy of her," I could definitely see him stepping aside so that his brother could take over their House and marry her—purely out of concern for Finesse’s happiness, and there is something incredibly selfless and very beautiful about that.

I think Finesse's side of things is much more practical. The fact of the matter is that Finesse is royalty in a medieval society where she will inevitably be married off for a political alliance and/or to produce children, and she has probably always known that she needs to marry out of duty/responsibility, so I can’t really see her as that much of a hopeless romantic given the circumstances. If she allows herself anything, it is the hope that she will get to spend her life with someone who does care for her and who she can be content with. I don't think throughout most of Finesse's life and certainly not throughout this whole arranged marriage business that anyone has ever really asked her what she wanted or ever really cared about her wishes before, but Langris seems to have a genuine interest in her wishes and her happiness more so than anyone else. And I think she does care for him (again, not necessarily in a romantic way but it is a genuine care and concern of at least friendship).

As I discussed in this post, when Langris has all that elf-business and the King threatens to dissolve the betrothal and punish the Vaudes, it is Finesse who comes to their defense rather than taking what is quite possibly her only chance at an "out." And it is an informed, free choice on her part. I love her line in the English dub that she "knows Lord Langris and has no misgivings about him" and therefore essentially begs her uncle not to "judge him too harshly." I think there is something very strong and very courageous in her decision to believe in the good in Langris even when he is at his worst, and her concern is truly and completely focused on what is best for him. I'm especially thinking of that moment when she begs him to stop before he does something he will regret. She's worried about him: his hurt and his guilt. She really wants what's best for him, and it's this love for him and this belief in him that really brings out the best in Langris.

My absolute favorite thing about this ship (besides how selfless they are towards each other) is really that Finesse has this way of bringing out this softer, gentler side of Langris that, I think, very few people have actually seen. Langris himself is so insistent on hiding this (probably a learned response from growing up in an environment where any hint of emotion and any sensitivity is viewed as a weakness), but really he has such a deep capacity for love and given the opportunity would be fiercely loyal.

Langris may not care about a lot of people, but the ones he chooses to care about he will love forever. He's just such a tsun about it, I think, so it can be very hard for anyone (and especially for those with preconceived notions of him as a snotty stick-in-the-mud) to see that he's really very sweet and awkward as heck about his feelings. Langris' love might be quiet—it's not very flashy and usually shows itself in doing little, everyday things for the people he loves—but still waters run very, very deep and he has shown that he would do just about anything to protect the people he loves most and make them happy, no matter what that means for himself. I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that he would die for Finesse if it came down to it.

Ultimately, I can imagine a lot of different outcomes for this relationship (some of which never, ever cross over into that romantic place). I really just want them both to be happy whether that means they end up together or not, but yes, I could see them happy with each other in a romantic sense under very specific circumstances since they do have such a selfless love for each other (but I think that is probably a discussion for another time because this is already super, super long so I'm cutting myself off in favor of the next section...).

Why I personally think Langris rather than Finral is better suited for Finesse

As much I don't like pitting ships against each other, I don't think it's avoidable in this case since she is going to be in arranged marriage with one of them. To paraphrase a favorite musical of mine, it's not a matter of "if" but which one. And I think it's best for me to just start off by saying that while I do genuinely like and appreciate Finesse and Finral as a ship as well, I personally think that Langris and Finesse are better suited for one another in the long term.

I will admit upfront that this is in part because of my own personal experiences of having a chronic illness (and needless to say that is a personal bias that colors my opinions, so please just keep that in mind), but I think it's important to talk about the fact that Finesse is chronically ill because it's not something I've ever really seen discussed when talking about ships for her and I really think it should be taken into account. Like Finesse, I have been sick for most of my life, and I can really relate to the kind of difficulties and limitations that Finesse likely experiences due to being chronically ill and the realities of the less active and much more slower-paced life she would lead and, by proxy, the life anyone who married her would have to lead. Again, I am not saying that I don’t like or couldn’t imagine her & Finral together (I do genuinely like that ship too), but I almost think Langris is better suited for her in that he actually wants (or seems to want) the slower-paced life they’d probably have together. For instance, there are likely to be frequent situations that would arise in which Finesse is too ill or too tired to go out and her husband would then be “forced” to stay home with her. With Langris, I think, there would never really need to be much of that feeling of guilt on Finesse’s part or the fear that she is taking away something from Langris or being a burden, because Langris isn’t super sociable and would just want to stay home anyway. In fact, let’s be honest here, he’d probably, actually feel kind of relieved that he has gotten out of unwanted socializing. Whereas Finral is a much more lively and sociable person (rather than an "old soul" like Langris), and though Finral would never, ever want Finesse to feel like a burden or to feel guilty about being sick, I could imagine there is more of that feeling (at least from Finesse’s side) that he has given up a lot more to be with her since his active social life would drastically change as soon as they married.

There's also the matter of the panic Finral would probably have whenever Finesse was ill or having a flare of symptoms. Of course, Langris would be worried as well, but I think because of his personality, he is better able to shelve that and help in a crisis rather than Finral who gets really worked up and then just sort of shuts down. Obviously this is something that can be learned over time, but I just worry that it would be a constant source of stress for Finral which would ultimately make Finesse very worried about him and upset that he is upset on her account. I think Finesse would have a lot of fear that the life she could give a lively, busy, & social person like Finral would be holding him back in some way. The question there is really: will what Finral wants out of life ever gel with the limitations Finesse has to live with? Whereas I don't think that question is as much of an issue with Langris since he is an old soul and incredibly steady, very unlike his more restless, adventurous, and high-energy brother.

I think Langris and Finesse are alike in this way. Though they have many differences in their personalities (and a really nice balance there), they have a lot of similarities in worldview and their attitudes towards life and their life goals—being more traditional, formal, and proper ‘old souls.' Whereas I think she and Finral have more similarities in personality (despite him being much more lively), they’re both incredibly kind, gentle & easy-going people who aren’t particularly ambitious and often make decisions based on what will make other people happy and "keep the peace." But worldview wise he seems much more modern and less traditional than her which I could see causing some tensions since I think they want different things out of life, in a way. It’s almost more important to be alike in life goals/worldview than personality, I think.

I also think Finesse and Langris share common interests and genuinely enjoy each other's company (as we get these glimpses of in the anime where they're just having a quiet, comfortable tea parties together for instance). Even if it started off as an obligation to spend time together because of this arranged marriage they were going to be in, I like to think that eventually Langris and Finesse actually became fairly good friends and came to genuinely enjoy each other's company. I guess it’s a bit unfair to Finral to bring this up since we haven’t seen him spend a lot of time with Finesse so we can't say that they don’t enjoy each other’s company but I just don’t see them having the same shared interests that she would have with Langris.

There is a lot more I could say about these two and their relationship, but I think that's enough ramblings for now. If you read this all the way through to the end, bless you. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk. Cheers!! 💖

[b-theone]

Setting: Predebut, 2017

Starring: B:ONE, Ad Astra ex trainees ( Jeongwon, Beomseok, Jisung), staff

Word Count: 3.1k

Before B:ONE there was ASTER, but for the first to exist, the latter had to fall apart.

Being a group of nine wasn't easy, at least not when you're supposed to be debuting at any minute, but any minute turned into months and no one debuted, nor changes were made for the lineup. Luck seemed to be running out in ASTER, and the group was starting to wonder if the project was about to be discarded to leave space for the next girl group. However, destiny has dealt its cards a long time ago, and only a few ones were destined to make it.

“I'll be leaving the dorms on Monday, I'm leaving the company and going back to Wonju. My father fell sick, so I doubt I would've been able to make it knowing that.”

Everyone knew that Jeongwon only had his father in life, and it had been hard enough for him to leave Wonju, even if it was near Seoul and he could just come and go for practice, everyone knew he wouldn't want to even try as he'd want to be with his father as much as possible, just in case it got worse. It was a hard hit, since Jeongwon had quickly assumed the position of leader since ASTER came to be as the nine member group eight months ago, rather than just being just Ad Astra's predebut team. Now someone else would have to take on that spot, and pray that this small change wouldn't be the end of ASTER.

“I think Beomseok would be a good leader. He might not be the oldest but he has been here for a long time, so he deserves it.” Jeongwon spoke again, earning a look from everyone.

There was a clear Hyung line, and it was made, now without Jeong, had three other people and Taeseok. Beomseok was part of the maknae line, one of the oldest, but not old enough. No one really cared about it, since he had more experience, and Jeongwon regarded him as a second in command.

“We can always go visit you after practices, and when we debut, we can go when we're free. This doesn't have to be the end of our friendship.” The youngest one spoke hopefully.

No one really looked at him, but everyone shared the same thought. He was too hopeful, and too naive. Jeongwon would probably fade into a memory, and even past that, and would be probably just another man from Korea, and millions of Korean men. They hoped one day their paths would cross, but it was highly unlikely, and no one dared to tell that to the maknae.

Being back at the practice room was hard, even if they were now eight, which means someone else could get a new chance to shine. Jeongwon didn't have any main position, or at least, no staff had positioned as such, so his place could be easily filled in, but there was something that made his absence feel like they had lost half of the group. He was someone who led the group through thick and thin, and now their worst moment was without him.

“I think we should do our best to debut, for Jeongwon hyung. I know it seems like we're just... Further and further from it, but we have to push harder to make them realize we're here to stay.”

Even though Beomseok was trying his best, no one felt moralized enough to do anything that day, having lost someone so important for the group in the middle of the uncertainty of debuting or not... It felt like hell. It felt worse for Jongbin, who shared a room with Jeongwon for six years,  and now he had to start again with other people.

It didn't help that the company took the news as an opportunity to experiment with the lineup. Sometimes it was  four, sometimes they added people to the point they were eleven, and so they went back and forth, further destabilizing the groups morale.

“I don't know if we're even debuting.” Kohya said to a fellow foreign member of Aster.

“I think they're going to move us around until we get tired and we quit. Maybe they were building the group around Jeong-ssi.” The other man said from his place on the bed.

Kohya, who was crammed on a small desk with all his strings for bracelets, let go of it just to look back at his friend, who then looked back at him.

“It could be but I'm not sure, wouldn't it be easier if they just kicked us out? They could clean up the building and give it to more girls and get more trainees in, and that way they'd be able to fit more possible future idols.” Kohya said after a while of careful consideration.

His friend seemed to think about it carefully, trying to find any problem in Kohya's logic, only to be met with nothing. “You're right” the older one ended up saying.

“What do you think they're doing next? They tried already many things and it's been barely a month.” Koya then asked again, sparking a new debate about what would and what should ad astra do next, as if they were debating a strategy for a game.

In the company, Taeseok, Kyungmin, Beomseok, and Kohya were just taking a break from the practice, as they were picked for the new pseudo lineup. In that break, the four guys were discussing the same question, what would ad astra do with them?

“I think with Jeongwon going, they're just doing time until they see who else will leave before doing anything else. You know, it was a hard blow, so it's expected they'll just go playing around until things settle.” Taeseok spoke, trying to settle down the anxiousness that had settled over the group lately.

The room was almost clinical, with the cold white lights illuminating the room almost in a blinding light, and the lack of windows made the place feel like a room like an underground place from those scary movies his dormmate loved. All trainees had to practice there, only debuted groups had the privilege to get a nice room, and it was probably because they had to upload their dance practice.

The room full of mirrors and grey walls and floor, making it feel almost like they were being watched. Taeseok didn't like it, but he didn't have to, he just had to get through it long enough to have a pretty practice room like those girlgroups he saw.

“Do you think they're just waiting? That we're not going to be kicked out of the company if we don't get out on our own?” Beomseok asked, playing with his water bottle.

“If they were planning to debut us then why are they changing the lineup so much?”

“Maybe they're going to debut us as subunits? Like that NCT group.” Kyungmin offered as an alternative, something that no one else had thought about it.

The group looked at each other, thinking about what Kyungmin had said, wondering if they were planning to debut them in some new way that wasn't used before.

“Doesn't seem like it, it seems too out of the pocket for a company that's debuting their first group, I think they'd play it safe."

It was hard to know what was going to happen, but Taeseok and Kyungmin quickly found a pattern. They were put together, no matter how the group was changed, they came and went as a pair. To them it joined a man by the name Jisung, born in 1994.

Jisung was a nice person, he was in the room next to Taeseok's, and they were both introverted people, so they glued to each other in practice while the others ran around and played. It could be said that they became friends rather quickly, like a fire started by thunder, and as such, it was bound to die soon.

“I've been kicked out of the company.” The man said one day,  coming into the practice room he was supposed to be in an hour ago.

He was about to get inside the room an hour ago, he was even with his arm around Taeseok's shoulders as they spoke about the latest drama they were watching, and then he was taken away by staff telling him he was requested into... No one was sure, he was too far by the time they told him why he had to follow them.

Apparently, it was to get him out of the company. And the question was hanging right in the tip of their tongues, why was him, the always honorable Jisung, being kicked out?

“They didn't give much of a reason” Jisung spoke, knowing what everyone thought, wanting to clear out any possible misunderstanding. “They just said they didn't think I'd fit Aster, and the higher ups didn't think I'd make a good fit on the company any longer, so they're ending my contract.”

It was definitely strange, even more when it came to a man who did nothing wrong. No one could believe it, not because they thought he was a bad man, but because the company was acting in strange ways. Maybe it was a way to kick him out of the company and slowly dismantle the group without raising suspicions.

Or maybe they were all putting their faith in a man who wasn't worth it, and he was lying so no one knew what he had done to get himself kicked out. No one could be completely sure anymore.

“Then what do we do from here?” Taeseok asked, not to Jisung in particular but to everyone in the group.

With Jisung gone they'd be down to seven, and now another reorder would happen. Once again the dorm arrangements would change, and then they would be subjected to a new restart full of lineup changes. But it didn't, once again it was the seven of them together, practicing as they always did, though this time there was a small change.

They were now given a song, a brand new song, an original. The only changes made were on positions, or who had to sing which lines, but the group stayed the same way.

It brought some relief that they were finally moving together in the same direction, further solidifying the idea that Jisung hadn't been the man they thought to be. It didn't help that Jisung seemed to have banished from earth, not even trying to communicate with them as Jeongwon had done on a few, scarce times.

It didn't matter, no one really cared, they were to busy to even do so as lately they had to train more and more to learn what they were given, and change what they were told. It was a hard time for everyone, but the promise of debuting soon made everything worth the hardships. All they hoped was for it to be worth it, and not end up disbanding after the numbers didn't go as high as staff hoped for.

Everyone was putting far too many expectations on them, the creator of Aster was even overseeing their practices, and choreographers started to press them harder. They tried different concepts, different songs, different everything and they didn't seem satisfied. They seemed to be waiting for the pressure to be too much.

Until it calmed down. It felt like the calm before the storm, as if they were waiting for the last jumpscare, but nothing was coming. They decided on a rather cute concept, almost as if they suddenly decided on them being the boys next door, the kind of sweet guys girls could fantasize about being their girlfriends and getting sweet dates under the moonlight.

No one complained, no one knew what to say, they were happy to have a debut set, one that they liked... More or less. There were some complains, some who would've preferred other things but after not knowing if they would even debut, anything was a good idea. Everything was good if their name was in the teasers. And soon, they were getting ready for it.

The name was announced to be changing to B:ONE, something about unity, and being the one group fans should love, none of them were really paying attention, at least no one but Beomseok, who should know because of his role as the leader. Fittings started, trying to see what would go for the MV, what would go for the teasers, what would be good for the member reveal, and so on and on with songs, clothes, and stage names. It almost felt like they were becoming a product more than the idol version of themselves.

And then, a call was made from the office of the creator himself, but it wasn't for the leader, but rather for Taeseok. Obedient as ever, Taeseok didn't question it before heading to the office, spending a total of an hour before getting back to the dorms, forgetting about the practice and all schedules. It was the creator who went to excuse him from it.

By the looks of it, Taeseok was the next one to go, being cut off so close before making it. No one could even go and comfort him, and neither did they know if they wanted to, after all there was a chance that he had been just as guilty as Jisung, and no one knew about it either.

Beomseok went to his room at night, when they had gotten back from the practice and the rest of the group was fighting to get to the shower first. They spend a long while speaking, long enough for everyone to settle who would shower first, and for each of them to shower. By the time he got out of the room, the sweat had dried up, and he had bloodshot eyes and a barely contained fury.

No one knew what happened after that, as Taeseok came behind him, with his head hanging low and unable to look at his groupmates, picking the skin of his hands apart as he walked to Beomseok and gently grabbed his arm, telling him in a hushed whisper to let it go, while the leader shouted that he wasn't going to let it happen.

No one knew what was going on, but they all heard the strain in Taeseok's voice as he pleaded their leader, and said leader seemed to grow more agitated, until the door was slammed and they all heard the sound of Taeseok trying to hide his cries. The first one to get out of his room in aid of the older was Hao, who got closer to him and hugged him, not saying anything and neither asking for anything. He was followed by Kohya, and who had been followed by Inwoo and Sanghoon just standing and watching. While the Japanese boy hugged Taeseok too, the English man went to get some water for the crying man.

Sanghoon wasn't good at emotions, but he understood the importance of showing Taeseok he was there for him too, so he got closer and awkwardly caressed the patch of black hair that wasn't being crushed by the heads of the two foreign members. Kyungmin, who was the last one to shower, got out of the bathroom to find the scene unfolding, couldn't do much more than just turn around looking for both Beomseok and Inwoo, just to find the English man getting out of the kitchen.

After a brief talk, Kyungmin went back into his room, getting out a few minutes later completely changed.

“Taeseok, do you want to talk?” He asked once he finally got closer to the group.

By then Taeseok seemed to have calmed down, with him only sniffling and drying his tears. Inwoo took his pale yellow handkerchief and gave it to the man, who dried his tears and cleaned his nose on it, before being told to keep it as Inwoo was gifting it to him.

“No, it's...” He seemed to choke up, and the group prepared for other round of tears, yet they never came. “I'd rather not talk about it.”

Everyone understood the best they could, and Inwoo went on to prepare mandu and tteokbokki, knowing Taeseok loved that. Sanghoon went on to help him prepare the food for the rest of the group, while Kohya, Hao, and Kyungmin decided to get Taeseok out of his gloomy mood again.

Dinner went by, and there was food untouched, making them remember that Beomseok had left a while ago and he was yet to get back. They all waited, using different excuses to keep themselves awake, until they all realized that it was most likely that he wouldn't go back to the dorms that night. For the group, it showed the seriousness of whatever he was told, for Taeseok, it was pure terror running through his veins.

Beomseok wasn't there either when they all got up, and he wasn't at practice either that day. And when they went back to their dorms, every trace of Beomseok ever being there was erased, as if they had imagined him. Now, they were six.

Everyone knew Taeseok would blame himself, that whatever happened to him and Beomseok would live forever in him and the guilt would eat him, they knew him that well. So they spent their time trying to cheer him up.

That was, until none of it worked and Taeseok wasn't there in the morning. But he was there when they got to the practice, already thinking they were five set to debut.

“Hey guys, I spoke with the staff. Beomseok decided to leave the company as he didn't agree with some stuff going on. We are still debuting, but, until the company is sure we are debuting as six, there won't be any new leaders."

“I wouldn't mind if we didn't get a leader, I'm happy you didn't get kicked out Tae, we thought we wouldn't see you again.” Kyungmin said, palming the back of the dancer.

“Alright then, let's practice?”

“Totally! We gotta show the company who's the boss!” Hao quickly said, putting his cap backwards as a sign of getting ready.

[acourtofthought]

Hey there! I've been thinking about something lately and I'd love to have your opinion on it as someone who usually has great takes about this series..

In ACOWAR we have Feyre saying this to Lucien: "You fit into the Spring Court as little as I did Lucien. You enjoyed its pleasures and diversions. But don't pretend you weren't made for something more than that."

I get that this was foreshadowing of what we would discover later on about Lucien's heritage. A sign that maybe Lucien's future indeed will be in a different court (Day Court) and not in the Spring Court. And even though I would love to see Lucien living happily in the DC this worries me a bit considering that we also have this:

"Her sister's delicate scent of jasmine and honey lingered in the red-stoned hall like a promise of spring."

"But Elain...The Spring Court had been made for someone like her."

"He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers."

All the spring and flower imagery associated with Elain, and specially the 2nd quote, lead me to believe that her future will be somehow heavily connected to the Spring Court, who knows if SJM doesn't make her the next High Lady of the SC even (you know.. all that talk about the HL title being able to go to someone outside the bloodline).

We have a Lucien whose future doesn't seem to be in the SC (in a forever sense) and an Elain whose future seems to be in the SC. As an Elucien I don't really like that 😅 What do you think?

Hello!! I do see the point you're making except Sarah turned it all around again. Lucien was always meant for more and it's clear to see he was the one who kept things running in the SC more often than not. We're told that the people of Spring looked to Lucien first to set the example which means there was no higher position for him within the court, nobody else he could work for since he already worked for the HL in what was the most important position after Tamlinsomewhere. So Feyre thinking he was meant for more than what he was doing in the Spring would almost have to be followed with something along the lines of "You enjoyed its pleasures and diversions. But don't pretend you weren't made for something more than that" because what else could she have said? "You should have been HL of Spring!" Sarah is never that direct. Just as the Suriel said "stay with the High Lord and live to see everything righted" and we all assumed it meant Tamlin though in truth he was referring to Rhys. It wouldn't make sense for Feyre to think Lucien could ever become HL of Spring so I believe her phrasing had more to do with the author hinting that Lucien should have always been a ruler somewhere rather than following the rule of another. I think it's important to remember that Feyre is also not the expert on Lucien and his history with Spring. She'd known him all of what, a year? Her only experience with Lucien in Spring was during Amarantha's reign and then after UTM when they were all struggling to find their footing. She was not there to see what Lucien's life had been like the first century, two centuries, (three centuries?) that he had lived there which means it's not really for her to say whether Lucien should be in Spring or not. The part where Sarah turned that around though is what we're told after this conversation between Feyre and Lucien, how he did miss the Spring Court and though working for Tamlin didn't work out the way he imagined, he had hoped for it being something different. To me means there is still the possibility for Lucien and Elain to turn it into what he'd always imagined because if anyone could the Spring Court into something special it would be them. He has shown how much he does care for the court through all he's done for it, for the fact that he continues trying to help it's High Lord through his depression (which would benefit it's people), for the fact that he allows the NC to station him there though he knows he's not really being embraced. It was what, long ago, he'd once thought life at Tamlin's court would be." An ache like a blow to the chest went through him. "I do not belong in the Autumn Court. And I'm willing to be I'm no longer welcome at h-the Spring Court." Home, he had almost said. "I don't have anywhere else to go. You ruined any chance I have of going back to Spring. Not to Tamlin, but ot the court beyond his house. Everyone either still believes the lies you spun or they believe me complicity in your deceit." To me that indicates that Lucien has unfinished business in Spring, that he does feel sadness over not living there no matter Feyre's thoughts on it. It's not that Sarah doesn't speak through other characters at times but in this case I think it's safe to say that Feyre's words should be taken with a grain of salt consider it's not but a few paragraphs later that she thinks, "I'd do it mostly to keep Elain from ever going to the Spring Court." Feyre is not impartial enough in regards to the Spring Court for me to believe that she knows best when it comes to Lucien. There's also the possibility that Elain and Lucien will spend time in Spring helping to turn the court around (which means the hints for her and Spring would still be valid) but their end destination is Day. There's a lot of possible clues to work with and a lot of directions that Sarah could take them both but whatever she does, she's clearly set them up to be together while doing so.

[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

okay i'm going to need a part 2 only if possible ofc of the taeyong drabbe

For you? Anything.

Spectral Lover [Pt. 2]

TW: Ghosts Genre: Romance Pairing: Lee Taeyong x Reader YN Pronouns: Not specified Word Count: 0.8K

[NCT Masterlist] | [NCT Spooky Season Masterlist] | [Part 1]

Notes: Fuck it why not?  Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.

Feedback is greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading!

You were always a huge believer in the supernatural. But you supported more of an idea that humans and ghosts coexist peacefully and, just like humans, there were the rogue few who stood out as "bad" entities.

So, when you moved into this new home and found out that it was apparently haunted, you were more excited than afraid. And so far, your excitement was well felt.

"Alright," you placed the contraption down in front of you while you sat cross-legged on the floor. It was essentially a laptop with its monitor on backward, and your hope is that it would help you communicate with your spectral roommate. "Mr. Ghost? If you're here with me right now, I made this device so we could communicate better."

Taeyong, of course, was always hanging around you, and was actually already seated in front of the keyboard. He looks at the device and whistles.

"According to what the movers said, you died back in the 19th century, so I don't expect you to know what this is," you muttered. You were right. "Basically, just type out what you want to say. Give it a shot," you invited him to do so, but Taeyong could see the doubt in your eyes. Hesitantly, he leans forward and looks over the keyboard, going through the rows of letters and symbols, before finally hovering his hand over it.

He was afraid.

Usually, when it came to material items, he couldn't actually touch them, but for whatever reason he was doing fine with moving objects around, this was a new development for him.

Then, when you sighed and slumped his shoulders, he pressed a key.

;

And your face lit up.

"No way..." your shock was clear and Taeyong was as excited as you. He quickly typed out something he'd been meaning to tell you for months now.

Hello

"Hi!" Your grin was angelic. "Oh, wow, I was afraid that this wouldn't have worked! Mr. Ghost, allow me to properly introduce myself, my name is (Y/N) (L/N)!"

My name is Taeyong Lee. As you said, I am who you usually refer to as 'Mr. Ghost.'

As Taeyong typed it, he muttered it to himself as well. How long has it been since he said his name?

"Taeyong, huh?" And how long has it been since he heard it? "I'm sorry for moving into your house, I'm sure you're very picky about who stays here."

You're fine, of all the newer owners, you're the only one who's respected me and this house.

"Is that so?" You read the monitor again. "I'm glad, I've heard many stories about you. Are they true?"

Unfortunately, yes. Though, all except one.

"Which is?"

I wasn't a hermit. I did have a partner.

"Oh, that's wonderful! This whole time I was sad that you were alone. Is that partner here in the house as well?"

In a way, yes.

"Amazing, together even after death," your voice was dreamy, and Taeyong melted into every word. "I'm assuming you were the one who helped me unpack?"

Yes, that was me.

"And I'm very thankful for that," you nodded, "were you also the one who switched out my dress that one night?" Taeyong chuckled. True, he loved you, but he knew he couldn't love you the way you deserved to be, so instead, he chose to help you find happiness another way, even if that meant he had to see someone else beside you.

Maybe, did your date like it?

"You have very good taste! He complimented me on it all night long." you chuckled.

Then, yes, it was me. I'm glad he liked it, I may be out of my time, but from the previous owners I've been able to keep up with the times.

"I think this is the start of something really cool, Mr. Lee!"

Please, just call me Taeyong.

"Taeyong it is, then! Thank you for speaking with me, I look forward to getting to know you better," you nodded. "If you ever have something to say, go ahead and use this machine, I think it'll be a good alternative than a ouija board."

And a much safer one as well.

"Exactly! Now, I do have to get to work, so I'll leave the house in your hands. Thanks, Taeyong!"

Of course, drive safely.

"Thank you!" And, you're gone, up the stairs to grab your things no doubt. Taeyong leaned back and watched you run up the stairs before whistling and turning back to the monitor. Then, he heard you run down the stairs and, as expected, a slight thud. "Ow! I'm okay!" You announced, and Taeyong couldn't hold back his laugh. Funny how things stay consistent over reincarnation. "Mr. Ghost? Are you laughing?!" Taeyong holds his tongue.

"Can you hear me, (Y/N)?" Taeyong shot up and near ran over to where you were, but you looked around the foyer for a sign of anything and, finally, you looked through him. You couldn't see him. "Oh... (Y/N)," he shakes his head.

"One day, we'll work on it, Taeyong," you nodded and adjusted your bag over your shoulder before leaving. Taeyong locked the door behind you.

General Tag List: @stopeatread @bat-shark-repellant @raeincitizen @umbralhelwolf @yangsrose @kazooms @sadcoffeecritic 

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[houseofbreadpakoda]

Naatpu - 2

Ponniyin Selvan X Bahubali Crossover

prev | next

The sun had set a while ago. Vandiyathevan was left in his chambers to rest before dinner. He'd tried hard to find the man who'd made Devasena herself fumble, but to no avail. What was his name again....ah Shivudu! He'd been hit by a bull, oh no to be precise he'd been stood infront of a bull to fight. Yuvarani had assumed that the man was walking around masquerading. And well, then he got hit and was now resting in his chambers. It was absolutely necessary to let Aditha know about his dear friend's new *ahem* interest, thus he had sent him a pigeon post hours ago. Devasena had left to prepare for a Krishna Pooja, leaving behind a daasi to serve to Vandiyathevan's needs. Oh and was he served.

"Yuvarani is not the kind to fall in love and bleh bleh, but something has happened to her in the past week."

"Oh I heard that too."

"She refused a proposal from a massive empire and-"

"Let me guess. And people assume it's because of Shivudu....?"

"Exactly!" The daasi exclaimed immediately shushing herself being aware of her surroundings.

Vandiyathevan smiled at her. Wasn't this all he needed after weeks of spying around? A friend to spill some tea with. Vindhya had been Devasena's Sakhi since they were children.

"And what does the yuvarani have to say about that?"

"Of course she denied it." Vindhya said huffing and stretching her hands towards her knees. "But of course the blush across her face betrayed her."

Vandiyathevan remembered how Devasena had teased him about Kundavai that very evening.

"But I agree with the yuvarani, Shivudu definitely looks like he's playing around. Especially his uncle. His antics give everything away."

She was interrupted by the blow of a conch. Vandiyathevan immediately drew his sword close. "No no, that's alright. It's just the Krishna Pooja. It must be starting now." The sound of the conch was immediately replaced by the sound of a flute and then a melodious voice. He moved towards the balcony to hear the melody better. He suddenly turned back. "That's....the yuvarani singing?" He asked, receiving a small nod from a grinning Vindhya.

Vandiyathevan looked back to grab a glimpse at Devasena but instead caught someone else trying to catch a glimpse. Shivudu and his mama were out resting against the pillars grinning at each other from time to time. Oho so the attraction was mutual. Of course it was, how can one not fall for the yuvarani. The man looked familiar. His uncle not so much. He informed Vindhya and scurried downstairs towards the men. Shivudu wouldn't stay put for a second. He'd sprint all around the palace, wherever the melody flowed. The Pooja finally came to an end and so did the song. Shivudu had now dozed on a branch under the moonlight. Vandiyathevan waited for the surroundings to clear up. After a while, he slowly tiptoed to the branch, whispering "Shivudu....heyy Shivudu.....".

Amarendra opened his eyes to see Vandiyathevan up close, and almost drew out his dagger. But soon remembered the act he had put on. He pretended to roll off the branch before Vandiyathevan caught him. "Heyyy!!! Arasan. Arasan. Don't be afraid." Vandiyathevan whispered looking around to make sure he hadn't alerted anybody else. He rested on the branch signalling at Shivudu to relax as well. "I heard you hurt your hand today morning, how are you now?"

" I- I'm well s-sire" Shivudu replied. Vandiyathevan sighed. This was so obviously a play. The man fumbled his words, but didn't have an ounce of fear in his eyes. He shook his head down repeatedly, but his shoulders remained stiff and sturdy. Even when he was woken up suddenly, there was no fear rather he was in a posture of defence. And to top it all, Shivudu hadn't shown any signs of an injury until he brought the topic up. Even now he was only slightly cradling his "injured" arm.

"Good" Vandiyathevan muttered after several moments, "Why don't you go to your chambers and rest. First of all you've injured one of your arms. Now if you'd fallen off the branch and hurt the other? No no that shall not happen. Come let me help you to your chambers." He now looked at Shivudu to see him gazing up. He looked up to see Devasena finishing the final Aarti to the moon. "It was a beautiful lullaby wasn't it?" Vandiyathevan asked suppressing a giggle. "Absolutely" Shivudu answered still under Devasena's spell, which was broken by a giggle soon after.

Shivudu tried to return back to his character, but was so speechless by his view that he just stood there trying to speak while still staring at the yuvarani. Vandiyathevan had had the time off his life seeing all this. "That's no problem, I absolutely understand how much you loveeedd the lullaby, so let's get you to your chambers now shall we?"

.

.

.

@whippersnappersbookworm @thegleamingmoon @thereader-radhika @yehsahihai @celestesinsight @vijayasena @thelekhikawrites @janaknandini-singh999 @harinishivaa @ragkee @dystopianearth @allari-ammayi

[caointeag]

Send a 👀 and I will describe how my muse sees yours / what they think of when they look at them.

Maron. When they first met he terrified her. He was nothing like Theon, he was a true Ironborn, the kind that stalked the nightmares of the western coast — and herself. He smells of sea and salt. His eyes are a clear ocean blue, and he is as treacherous as the waters he sails. Like some living avatar of their drowned god. Terrible and pure evil. Only marginally better than the stories of his uncle Euron but not from lack of trying, only for lack of opportunity. She loathed the reminder of the ocean, her one embarrassing phobia, because what business does someone who lives in a landlocked place being so scared of open waters and the people mad enough to love them? She would rather put them all to the sword and be done with it. But the ironborn have ships and the North has none. They both want independence and to get that concessions will need to be made and deals made with demons.

Frequent exposure forces one to cope, to learn and experience and shift. To survive one has to understand one's enemies, one's fears. Maron is not a god. Not a supernatural force or her nightmares made flesh. He's a man. An intelligent, infuriating man. He is dangerous yes, but he is not gleefully cruel. He can be reasoned with. He has loved ones and foods he doesn't like. He's no different than her sworn sword Yrre. Simply a violent man with a good mind. If anyone had told her she'd be on an ironborn ship she would've assumed it would've been as the spoils of a raid — perhaps in some ways that's still true. But as it is she's spent more time with them in their own world than probably any other northman has outside of being chained up in a ship's hold and she has begun to see the reality behind Old Nan's stories.

He is like Father and Jory and Ser Rodrick and Robb and Jon and every other proud northmen she knows. It should not shock her so much, go far enough back and the northmen and the ironborn share a common cultural ancestry as first men, but it does. And now she cannot unsee it, in him, in his crew. They are like us. He proud and strong and steeped in the ways of his people that so many others scorn. She thinks of Cersei in the wheelhouse making not so subtle jabs at the headscarf her mother had made for her. Her mother who was alien to the North as well but took it as her own. She thinks of how they mocked Balon's declaration of kingship. How King Robert had spoke of the first Greyjoy Rebellion. Maron lost everything then, a brother, his family his home, his body for a time. They took those from me too, these soft southern lords. They share a mutual outrage, a shared wound.

He is a man. And a handsome one at that. She can only imagine he was not married yet because he was held by Stannis. Even if greenlander lords would hesitate to marry their daughters to an ironborn, even a Greyjoy, there would have to girls on the islands throwing themselves at the chance to be his lady. But then again, he is proud. Likely a minor lords second daughter would be beneath his consideration. I am the first born daughter of a Great House, we're of a kind, and a better match for each other than I would be for Lord Wilas no matter how kind I hear he is. The thought is shocking, terrifying even, a sudden wave nearly capsizing her ship. She tries to banish it but the damage is done. She can't stop thinking about fine blue eyes, clever words, a fierce laugh, board shoulders and large rough hands.

She is falling in love with him. She knows it with the certainty of death. With death's inevitability. She respects him too much not to love him, admires him too much to want anyone else. It sets a new fear in her. She has no experience with this really, she spent so long trying to avoid this aspect of life she doesn't know how to handle wanting it. Isn't sure he'd want her even and has no interest in making a fool of herself finding out. He can have anyone he wants — and likely has. It doesn't bother her really, the expectations for men and women are different but it does leave her feeling at a disadvantage. She doesn't even know to begin with a courtship, especially with a man who would laugh in the face of the customs does she know. It's easier to try and ignore it, to run like a coward from her own attractions like always. She's not Robb. She sacrificed all her recklessness long ago, too scared of consequences to take risks ever again. Hopefully this madness will pass. She just has to weather the storm.

She loves him. It's as painful as a deep inhalation of sharp winter air, collapsing her lungs inside her with the power of it. He's tall, strong, handsome, traditional — everything she wanted in a man without realizing it. She loves his voice, loves it more when he speaks his own tongue, so alien to her. She loves his kindness and his brutality. Hands that have buried axes in flesh have cupped her own so gently. He's ironborn and she knows what that means, there's maybe one in twenty customs of their she does not hate. But she cannot begrudge him any of it, though that makes her complicit in his crimes. For all his evil she cannot condemn him. Not when he has held her as she wept bitter tears over all she'd lost. Not when he'd let her follow her own customs to carry out the sentences on the traitors who'd stolen everything. Not when he'd breathed life back into her, given her a reason to keep living.

Maron was not just a man, he was a force of nature. When he stood on the deck of his ship or with axe in hand the Gods looked on him with favor. You could see it in those terrible blue eyes.

for @azmenka

[taggedmemes]

SENTENCE MEME ⟶ OXVENTURE PRESENTS: DEADLANDS / ch2 always feel free to tweak the sentence to fit your muse.

'you have to eat that noisy?'

'i feel if you were having some of these beans you'd be making the same noises.'

'you're a growing boy! you should eat more things in general.'

'sit back. it's going to be 90 minutes of pure solitaire.'

'i mean everybody came out covered in gore.'

'love this energy.'

'i can't wait to see this bastard taken down, to be honest.'

'he rose through the ranks particularly fast. last i heard he'd been made a general.'

'i had these wanted posters made up.'

'did you have a follow-up thought, grandad?'

'this isn't a dead or alive situation, let me make this clear.''

'i've had several people come here and say that they've killed him. then he pops up again.'

'i assume it was shot with a very, very big gun.'

'he won't stop talking about how he shot that sasquatch.'

'you can't make an omelette without breaking a few sasquatches.'

'we don't just happen to have fifty yards of hempen rope.'

'i left my horse somewhere else apparently.'

'i've got some grubby old dynamite sticks shoved in my pocket, so no one set me on fire.'

'the wet goods store is right next to the dry goods store.'

'i think we can assume that walking up and plugging him in the dome will pull quite a lot of attention. not all of it positive.'

'maybe he loves jerky. we can put some jerky under a box and a stick and then he'll come out of town, and...'

'i'm not in funds as such.'

'he ain't my grandpa!'

'i don't want to impose or assume, but can we load you up with all this stuff?'

'okay, the story: we are couriering jerky.'

'beats 'jerkin' it'.'

'we can always tuck and roll. i do it all the time! it doesn't hurt as much as you think.'

'will you accept payment in the form of jerky?'

'the jerky was right next to the opium. it's possible some mixing as occurred.'

'i feel like there's a word for that if i knew more words.'

'you're a great shot and frankly you're a little scary when you're riled.'

'miss, can you write fair?'

'i can write passably well.'

'it's been a while since i was mining.'

'i, for one, have never mined.'

'if i were to assign it a fear level, i would give it about a four.'

'that's the second or third smart thing you've said today.'

'you'll have to forgive me: i am extremely old.'

'this presents a unique opportunity!'

'this sounds like a gas!'

'is there any action? is there a poker table?'

'you're pretty handy with those cards, right?'

'kid, you read my mind.'

'looks like you know what you're doing with them cards.'

'what do you think your odds are?'

'yeah, well, they didn't have what we have. which is enormous skill.'

'they don't have what i have! i have three months to live.'

'i don't know, you look like someone just walked over your grave.'

'i can't /possibly/ fail at gambling.'

'the game itself is supposed to be fun, you know.

'if you merely ask questions earlier and shot later, rather than the other way round, you wouldn't shoot so many people.'

'posers.'

'have you done much duelling?'

'i never heard of folks willingly coming to a town looking to get shot.'

'the grown up world is weird.'

'you're awfully young to get shot to death.'

'that's fine, i understand. if you need to shoot me, go ahead.'

'surely he won't agree to shoot a child to death?'

'LOT OF DEAD PEOPLE IN HERE, TOO!'

'the barman seemed alive enough to me. at least in a corporeal sense; his spirit was very downtrodden.'

'you think you have a lot to offer?'

'don't worry son, i'll go easy on ya. i'll shoot the gun right outta your hand.'

'i don't know if this is helpful or even possible, but...'

'i can dig graves very deeply and very neatly! but i can do shallow if it is for someone you wish to disrespect.'

'what i'm trying to do it, um, uh... kill you. so that i can benefit from your death. financially.'

[zarvasace]

7/11/23

dazzling diamond danger (5/6)

Yay! We have an end goal! I think this will end tomorrow! :) This chapter is about 2.3k? Anyway I'll post it under the cut because of AO3 being down, though it'll go there when things calm down. You'll miss out on some italics, and there will be extra spaces between paragraphs, but oh well. Enjoy for now! EDIT: got it up on AO3, here's the link for future reference

---

Warriors couldn't relax. The clock in the corner ticked on, as if to remind him over and over that three Heroes were missing. 

Wind, Legend, and Four had a room in a separate portion of the castle, which made Warriors nervous, but he hadn't pushed because the staff was already harried with the ball and other guests, and with so many people around, he'd assumed that the three wouldn't be targeted as related to him. For all the work he'd done to clear out traitors and assassins, he knew a few sleepers remained that hated him. 

He could only hope that those three hadn't run afoul of anyone like that. 

As much as Warriors enjoyed socializing, balls could be difficult. He was a public figure, and generally copied Zelda at these things, staying rather aloof from all the guests with a glass of wine in his hand that he rarely sipped on. The glass made it harder to sign, but it also kept people from asking him to dance, where it was impossible to sign. He only enjoyed that with people he knew and trusted.

He didn't want to dance right now, anyway. A pit burned in his stomach. Those three wouldn't have gone down easily, but no guards reported hearing anything like a fight. 

"Wars," someone said, and Warriors turned to see Twilight and Hyrule, who had volunteered to do some investigative work. His heart rose, then fell at the expressions they wore. 

"We found this." Twilight raised the fabric in his hand, a pleasant spring green hat. 

Warriors made a face and took the hat. Legend's. He glanced up at Twilight, eyebrows raised in a question. 

Twilight shrugged. "Nothing else. It was shoved under a couch in a little parlor. Wolfie tracked them down to tunnels under the castle, but there was only a single path from there to the dining room."

"I think they're outside the castle," Hyrule added. He looked rather nice, if Warriors could say so. Warriors himself had handpicked nearly everything that Hyrule wore, though Hyrule had vetoed a few things based on texture and fit. The lavender and red didn't seem like they would work together, but Hyrule's complexion brought it all together. 

His news didn't make Warriors very happy. Warriors nodded and pressed his lips together, thinking. He handed the hat back to Twilight and his glass of wine off to a servant. 

'We need to find them, sooner rather than later. The others?'

"We need to find them, sooner rather than later," Twilight repeated for Hyrule. He nodded. "I agree. Time and Sky are off questioning people, and Wild's wandering the castle halls."

'Alone?'

"He has Impa with him," Hyrule added, anticipating the worry. 

Warriors let out a breath. He nodded again. 'There isn't much else we can do right now,' he signed, with Twilight echoing him out loud. 'Someone needs to stay here in case they get back.'

"Twi and I can go back to the tunnels," Hyrule volunteered. "Find Wolfie again, maybe, and see if there's another clue."

'Check back in here in an hour,' Warriors told them. 'So if someone else goes missing, we'll know quickly.'

The other two left, dodging dancers and serving people. The orchestra played beautiful music that lilted over everyone's heads, but at the moment, it grated on Warriors's ears. 

Damn it all. He'd wanted to give them a nice evening, with an excuse to dress up, eat some indulgent food, and forget about fighting for a while. Instead, three of their brothers were missing, and nobody could relax. 

A determined-looking young woman in a sky blue dress stepped around a nearby group of nobles, and Warriors hurried to go get more wine from the servants around Zelda. 

---

When Wind and Legend heard Four's call, they opened the closet door to see Four sitting on top of one of the noble Darby's bodyguards that had stayed behind to guard them. The bodyguard's chest rose and fell, but he didn't move. 

Four, now full-sized (for him), smiled up at them like a cat, though Wind didn't think he'd appreciate the comparison. "Your bag's on the hook there, Legend," he said, pointing. "Can I get my chair back, please?" 

"Yeah." Legend put his hand on the textured wallpaper to steady himself as he reached up to pick his bag off the hook by the closet door. He rummaged inside. 

They were very lucky it had been dumped so close by. Wind had worried for a bit there. He went to check the bodyguard's pulse. 

"You got him good," Wind said. Strong pulse, oozing head wound. 

"You'd be surprised what lengths someone will go to to get a mouse out of their hair." Four sounded distracted, and accepted Legend's help getting back into his wheelchair. He didn't often use the buckle across the hips, but he did them up tonight. 

Wind smiled. "That's what you did?" 

"Harder than it sounds," Four laughed. He tugged the tie out of his hair and ran his fingers through it, smoothing it down somewhat. "Where to now?" 

Legend shook his cane out of its collapsed state and pointed down the dim hallway. "There's noise the other way, so I say that this way is a study. We need to be stealthy."

"Oh, don't worry," Wind said as they started to move. "We're so stealthy. Did you put your cane in your bag, too?"

"Right before getting grabbed, yeah, I didn't want them to take it or break it. I put way too much effort into these enchantments."

"At least we have one weapon," Four sighed. "I'm such an idiot for leaving my sword. I should have realized that I wouldn't be able to keep my mind off of it."

Wind reached into his jacket and pulled out one of his knives, the one he'd purchased in Skyloft. It had a beautiful handle inlaid with cloud-shaped opal. "Two weapons."

Legend tucked his cane in his belt to rummage through his bag. "What do you want, Four? Fire rod? Oh, wait, Wars still has that." 

"I thought we decided against arson anyway."

"We decided against heavy arson as a solution," Wind said. "A bit of fire won't hurt."

"Boomerang?" Legend asked, pulling out a yellow one. 

"Sure." Four took it, hefted it, and Wind was scared now. 

The three of them crept through the mansion, mostly following Legend's lead. Wind wasn't familiar with big houses like this, with dark wood paneling and themed rooms, but he figured that Legend had a bit more experience with them, since he chose doors and hallways confidently. 

Wind had worried a little about Four's wheelchair being loud, but he shouldn't have. The noise came from a few jingling bits and squeak of the wheels, no more than Legend with his cane charms or Wind with the wooden click of his foot. 

His stomach rumbled. He smiled sheepishly at the halfhearted sharp look Legend sent him. 

They seemed to be alone in the mansion, or at least in this part of it, so Wind dared to speak. 

"Hey. Legend. You mentioned a cake in your bag for a week," he whispered.  "Why did you carry a cake in your bag for a week?" 

"Got caught up in a fetch quest for a witch," Legend whispered back. 

"A witch wanted a cake?" Four asked. 

"No, she wanted frogs."

Wind grinned. Legend had a lot of stories, but he could very, very bad at telling them sometimes, especially when distracted. Like right now. "So why did you have the cake?" 

"Hilda made it."

"Legend," Four sighed. "Could you start at the beginning?" 

Legend glanced at him, eyes shining with a bit of mischief. "I was born on the day that cherry blossoms—"

"Legend!" Wind covered his mouth to keep in his snort. 

"Okay, okay. Hilda made a cake for Zelda. Some girl friendship thing, I don't know why. I was on my way to deliver it when the witch of the woods landed right in front of me and said she needed frogs, or she'd turn me into a frog. Now, it's a documented fact that I dislike being small animals without hands—"

"It is?" Wind asked, confused. 

Legend barreled on. "—and that witch can be nice but also fickle, so really, I had no choice but to leave the cake in there for a week while I found her the requisite number of frogs."

They approached a large, dark wooden door carved with stags. 

"That's a fun story," Four said. "But I'm confused about the, and I quote, 'documented fact that you hate—'"

"This is the study." Legend interrupted, putting his hand on the brass door knob and turning. "We'll find our evidence in here."

Wind and Four exchanged a look. They'd press him later. 

The study was dark, like most of the house, and not just because of the light. The decor itself seemed to exude an aura of malevolence, for all that it was deer- and nature-themed. Wind would have thought that it would be pretty and cute inside, but the paintings were all a bit gory, and two taxidermied deer heads hung on the walls. That in itself wasn't bad, but combined with everything else? Weird. 

Legend lit the oil lamp on the desk.

"I'll check the desk," Wind said as the door closed behind them. 

Legend headed for the back wall. "I've got the cabinet."

"So I'll look at everything else." Four started on the chest of drawers by the door. He opened one drawer, then picked out something tan and threw it at Wind, who caught it with his face. It smelled like coffee. "A bag to throw everything in."

Wind pulled the fabric off his face and gave Four a dirty look, receiving another catlike smile in return. With a shake of his head, Wind unfolded the conveniently-shaped tote bag and sat down in the very fancy leather armchair to look through the desk. 

He saw a lot of old pens, miscellaneous scraps of paper, a few logbooks… and lots and lots of suspicious-looking receipts. He ended up piling as much as he could into the bag, feeling it get heavier and heavier with paper. Legend dropped a stack in there, too, tied with a bit of twine. 

"I think that's all I can carry," Wind said once the pile in the bag reached the lip. He looped both straps over his elbow. Heavy, yes, but not to the point he couldn't carry it. 

"I didn't find anything immediately incriminating." Four shut a trunk under one of the gory deer paintings and shot a distrustful look up at the frame. "Besides these. I'm weirded out."

"Let's go, then," Legend said. He left Wind with the bag and opened the study door again. 

A woman stood on the other side, dressed in a servant's uniform, with narrow shoulders and a sharp chin. Her hand hovered over where the doorknob had been. She and Legend stared at each other for a moment, and then her eyes roamed around the study. 

Legend slammed the door in her face and threw the deadbolt, swearing. 

"Roberts?" Four guessed, his voice a hiss. 

"Yep. Great timing." 

Wind's heart rate rose, and he swallowed. The motion scraped up against the bruises. "Other door, then." He spun around and threw open the smaller door to the side, revealing a wide servant's staircase down to what looked like a door to the outside. 

"Actually?" Wind said. "Score. We're out."

"Stairs?" Four winced, looking down. 

Legend bumped the hand of his cane against the doorframe, collapsing it again, and he shoved it into his belt. "Wind, hand Four the bag, we're grabbing his chair with him in it."

"Uh…"

Wind nodded, seeing what Legend did: they didn't have time to do anything else, and Four was light enough that it would work. He dumped the bag in Four's lap and squared his shoulders. 

Four engaged the brake levers on the front, locking the wheels in place, face pale but set. He wrapped his arms around the bag in his lap. "Be careful."

The big door to the study behind them clicked as, presumably, the woman worked the lock with a pick. 

"Ready," Legend said, finding things to hold on the back and bottom of the chair. Wind did the same and nodded. "Go."

They lifted. The whole thing was heavier than the bag alone, but manageable with handholds and a partner. Wind had to step carefully, looking where he placed his feet. Legend called out every stair step so they descended evenly.

With two steps left, the door above them opened. Wind glanced upward to see the woman thief, Roberts, standing at the top of the stairs, face twisted. She started down the stairs after them. 

Wind swore, just a bit louder, and he and Legend fell out of sync for the last few feet. Four grunted as they all but dropped him. 

"Sorry, sorry," Wind said. "We gotta go."

"At the risk of sounding cliche and rude," Four said, pulling his brakes off, "duh." 

Legend pulled out his cane again, yanked open the door, and shuffled the two of them out into the courtyard. Wind grabbed a nearby garden chair and wedged it under the door handle to buy them a bit more time. 

"Come on, come on, come on!" Wind called, and the three of them dashed across the grassy courtyard into the dark stone city, a probably-murderous thief that abetted insurance fraud right behind them, her white servant's bonnet floating in her wake like a bird. 

[keicordelle]

The Adventures of an Inconvenient Au Ra: Fall Guys

It looked like a kid's candy-coated dream had vomited in here. Bright pinks and blinding greens assaulted Keshet's senses. Colors from every part of the spectrum were splashed about in what appeared to be some semblance of order, if your standards for "order" aligned more or less with those of a pixie from the First. Where in Nhaama's name Godbert had found those round-bodied monstrosities, Keshet could not even begin to fathom, but judging by the number of people currently gathered in the color-vomit room, he had to assume they were a hit.

It was all a little bit too bizarre for his tastes. The Gold Saucer was always loud and obnoxious, but this really reached a whole new level. But he was here, and much as his scales crawled to so much as look at the weird pink nuggets scattered around the room, he might as well give the game a shot.

And so he found himself waiting patiently - or as patiently as he was ever capable of - behind the starting line with twenty-three other people, all of whom were far too focused on the imminent death match- er, obstacle course, to even realize who he was. (And thank Nhaama for that. The bright pink sweater they'd forced him into made him feel rather like he wore someone else's skin, all awkward and ungainly. He felt weird with his skin all covered up, and even if he had ever felt compelled to don something other than his tribal garb, which he most certainly had not, this would not have been his choice. So much the better if no one saw and recognized him in it.)

"START!"

Keshet took off along with everyone else at his sides, careful not to trip over the diminutive Lalafell to his left. He took advantage of his longer strides, pulling ahead early. First jump, easily cleared. This wasn't so hard after all, what had everyone even been complaining abou-

There was no ground beneath his feet. Keshet didn't even have the breath to scream as he free-fell, wind whistling in his ears. Then, just when he was very certain this was it for one unfortunate lizard, he found himself back at the starting line, so suddenly he nearly tripped over his own feet and fell on his ass. He blinked, his brain swimming to try to compute the sudden change.

Okay. That was... Unexpected. He had no idea how that worked or why, but what he did know was that the rest of the racers were now a fairly significant leg ahead of him, and if he didn't want to get left in their dust, he was going to have to get his tail moving. He gritted his teeth, charging down the path once more. I will not lose!

It was just a silly game. Not something to get so worked up over. No one's life relied on this battle - at least, not now that he knew falling to his death was not in the question. And yet that same fire that raged through him when he faced off against an insurmountable foe burned though his chest, backed by grim determination.

The exultation that he felt when he caught up and then pulled ahead was as fierce as any combat victory, searing through him like the adrenaline that surged through his veins. Yeaahhh!! Let's goooo!! Each setback was met with a lashing tail and virulent hatred, grumbled curses muttered under his breath (when he could find the breath to spare). It was not as easy as he'd expected, to pull ahead and take the lead. Those stupid soft hammers kept bashing him upside the head, and he was so dizzy from spinning that it was a wonder he didn't fall straight of the edge. But he was doing it, he could make it, he could win!

Until a voice sounded through the space, feminine and excited: "And the winner is Leodaire Ferdillaix! Congratulations, and best of luck next time to the rest of our contestants!"

What?

He- He lost. How had that happened? When had that stupid elezen made it around him? He hadn't even seen him! Damn it! If only he'd pushed himself harder, if only he hadn't fallen!

Next time, he promised himself, teeth gritted and tail lashing. Next time, he'd win. No one would beat Keshet of the Dotharl and get away with it! 

-

Read the rest of the series on Ao3!

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