#I just like torturing our favorite Onion Boy

[kekstala]

In chess, if you want to defeat the king just use the queen bee. Also It totally hasn't been Penny who'd snitched about the Ribombee thing in exchange for BP - Nope.

Story: sweet and sour dipplins Writer: @dipplinduo Check them out <3

[thatesqcrush]

Ringin’ in a Brand New Year

Rafael Barba x Reader x Bryan Kneef. Our favorite throuple is back! NSFW for smut - p in v, anal, oral sex, frotting, money shot,etc. Who wouldn’t want to spend the last night of 2020 with these two?

AN: Fireside for holiday bingo.

WC:2184

**

You sat in the lobby of STR Laurie, waiting to be brought back to Bryan’s office. You had with you an overnight bag and a hard-shell rolling suitcase.  After all the wild days and nights spent during Christmas while in New York, you were excited to be spending New Year’s Eve at home in Chicago. Rafael was flying in from New York to be with both of you. The plan was to pick him up from O’Hare and then go right to Bryan’s apartment.

“Ms. Y/L/N?”

You looked up and met the eyes of one of STR Laurie’s employees. The dark-haired man smiled at you. “Right this way – Mr. Kneef is waiting for you.” Another employee of the firm came out and took your belongings. You walked through the large office space which was bustling with employees, some more frenzied than others. 

As you rounded a corner, you ran into the very familiar face of one of the bathroom Bettys from the holiday party. Her face reddened at the sight of you. You winked at her and she averted her eyes, scurrying off.

You took the spiral staircase up to Bryan’s office and his assistant rapped on the door quietly, before opening the door for you.

Bryan was on the phone and he scowled at the interruption. However, at the sight of you, his face softened and he quickly terminated his call. He made his way over and wrapped his arms around you. 

“Hey gorgeous.” Bryan greeted. You allowed him to tilt your head towards his. His lips were warm and soft and they pressed gently against yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned into the kiss, standing slightly on the tips of your toes. He responded by pressing his mouth against yours with more force, sliding his tongue into your mouth. He wrapped one arm around your waist, keeping you pinned against him. You reluctantly broke the kiss. Your lipstick was smeared, and Bryan felt a jolt go straight to his cock.

“Do you have much more to do? Or can we go soon?” You asked, breathless.

“Nope.” Bryan replied. His voice was low and gravelly. “How was the ride over?”

You shrugged. “Eh, I am done. And done for the week - that place can be... “ Your face was troubled as you thought of work. You let out a sigh and plastered a smile on your face. “Looking forward to spending time with you and Rafael. But we should get going so we can meet him when he lands.”

“You really should come work here. Be my assistant.” Bryan replied, stroking your chin with his thumb. “I’ll make sure you’re paid well. That job of yours just doesn’t appreciate you.”

“Bryan we all know if I come work here – and for you, no work will ever get done.” You rolled your eyes.

“Is that so terrible?” Bryan asked as he led you out, his hand on the small of your back.

You sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

**

You looked out the window as Bryan sped through the streets of Chicago. “Hey – this isn’t the way to O’Hare. Where are we going?”

“Glad you noticed.” Bryan replied as he switched lanes as if he were playing Mario Kart. “Rafael caught an earlier flight. He’s waiting for us at my place.”

Bryan saw how your face lit up as he waited to make a left turn. “I can’t wait for us to ring in the New Year.”

“You know, they say whatever you do at midnight on New Year’s Eve, is what you’ll be doing for the rest of the year.” You mused.

“Considering my plan is to fuck you and Rafael – well, I am one lucky son of a bitch.” Bryan chuckled.

**

The aromas coming from Bryan’s apartment were delicious. You and him walked into Rafael busily whisking away. He wore a black apron with gold lettering and had a New Year’s hat on.

“Rafi!” You broke out of Bryan’s grasp and ran to him. You threw yourself onto the handsome prosecutor, who barely had a second to drop what he was doing. He took a few steps back as you leapt into his arms. He held you tightly as you pressed your lips to his.

“I’ve missed you.” He murmured, pushing back some of your hair from your face. “I was making dinner for us. As a surprise.”

“Hey asshole.” Bryan approached, and pulled Rafael  away from you so he could give him a kiss. “I missed you too.”

“Did I say I didn’t miss you?” Rafael’s eyebrow arched. You turned to Bryan and stepped in between them, holding your arms out.

“Boys. Play nice.” You warned.

Both men’s equally green eyes darkened. “I am pretty sure you don’t like to play nicely at all.” Rafael quipped.

“I’m just saying…” You pushed Rafael away playfully. “We’ll all get what we want in due time.” You turned to Bryan. “Dinner first, dessert later.”

Bryan walked over to his liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of wine – your favorite – a Malbec – and bourbon for him and Rafael. “I’m hungry… just not for dinner.”

You felt a shiver go up your spine with his words. You wanted to abandon all ideas for dinner, but your stomach rumbled loudly, causing Rafael to snicker.

“Rafael – how much longer?” You whined, turning on the balls of your feet.

“Soon – so don’t get any ideas.”

Dinner was penne with passata with lots of herbs, garlic, sundried tomatoes and onions. There was some shop talk, as lawyers tend to do, and then the attention was turned on you, with your work. Dinner eventually wound to a close. After clean-up, you each had a bit more to drink. This time you opted for tequila for all. You all relaxed around the fireplace as you sipped the on what was surely one of the most expensive and aged añejos on the market. You were all ready for the what the evening had in store.

There was a brief discussion – more of a reaffirmation – of consent and you went to go freshen up while Bryan went to get some blankets out of storage and Rafael stoked the fireplace.

It did not take you long to get ready. You were in a knit sleep romper with long sleeves  that had a dangerously v-neck. The bottoms were cheeky and you had a feeling both men would approve.

When you came back out, both men were standing naked on the blankets that Bryan had laid out. There was an arrangement of lubes and condoms strewn about. Both men were kissing, grinding their cocks against one another. It always took your breath away at how beautiful they were together; it made your eyes burn to view such wanton desire. Both men crumpled to the ground, in a mass of questing hands. The fire popped and cracked, much like the sexual energy in the room. You watched as Bryan made his way down Rafael’s body, trailing kisses and licks down a path. Rafael’s hips jerked as Bryan took him in his mouth. Rafael turned his head to you and your eyes meet.

“Bry—” Rafael choked out. Bryan pulled off Rafael and turned towards you as well.

“Well, well, well. Seems like we have someone feeling very needy.” Bryan husked – his voice was low and rough.

“Oh yes, daddy.” You walked toward them and dropped to your knees. “So needy.”

“Then, go. Suck Rafael’s cock. Prove your worth to us.” Bryan growled, shoving you further. You swallowed Rafael’s cock and Bryan’s hands immediately sifted through your hair, guiding you on his cock.

“That’s right, take that cock down.” Bryan encouraged. His hands trailed up your sides and then to the front of your pajamas, cupping your tits. His hands slipped inside and you let out a muffled moan as his fingers tugged, rubbed, and pinched on your nipples. Meanwhile Rafael was bucking his hips into your mouth as you continued to blow him. You flattened your tongue as licked his shift, running over every vein and ridge, before blowing gently on the head. The salt of his pre-cum flooded your mouth and it made your pussy throb. Bryan must have been a mind reader, because he palmed you in between your legs, feeling how hot you were.

You briefly pulled off Rafael. You sat on your haunches and tugged down your pajamas before standing to remove everything entirely. You returned to all fours, blowing Rafael. Bryan ran his hands over your ass. You gasped his name loudly as he pressed his face into your cheeks and began to fuck you relentlessly with his tongue. The exquisite torture of his beard rubbing against the sensitive folds of your hot cunt drove you wild. You pushed back, trying to get more of him on you.

Bryan’s teeth graze against your flesh, biting gently but firmly. You felt his cock nudge against your folds, and you realized that he was getting ready to fuck you. You heard the sound of foil ripping in the distance. Bryan reached for the lube and drizzled it right over your ass, watching with delight as the lube ran down your ass cheeks. He rubbed some of it into your cheeks and then gathered it on his fingers. You felt of his index finger trace little circles around your tight rosebud and you shivered involuntarily.

“Look at that beautiful little asshole.” Bryan rumbled, as he worked a finger inside of you, loosening you up. You mewled in pleasure, enjoying how he stimulated the erotic nerve endings in preparation of your body for penetration.

You felt him slide his condom covered cock into your ass. Normally Bryan enjoyed going raw with you, but for what was literally and figuratively, come, you needed him to wear one. His balls rested against you and you knew he was as deep as he could be. Bryan let out an animalistic groan as he began to fuck you, the sound of skin on skin filled the room.  

“Yes, Y/N, take that cock.” Bryan grunted as he looked down, watching his cock disappear in and out of you.

“Fuck, fuck, yes, daddy, give it to me.” You begged before swallowing Rafael’s cock once more. Bryan pounded into you. He began to fuck you – slowly at first, and then picking up the pace, his balls smacked against you with every thrust. You continued to suck on Rafael’s cock, working him with even more enthusiasm. The wet sounds of your mouth filled the room joining the grunts of both men. Bryan’s cock was deep and as he reached around to rub your swollen clit, it felt as if every nerve ending was on fire.

Meanwhile you knew from the way Rafael’s thigh muscles were twitching, that he was close to coming. Bryan slowed his momentum, before withdrawing completely. You let out a wrecked moan – you had been close – so close.

“Go ride that pretty cock.” Bryan murmured in your ear. You nodded and climbed over Rafael, letting out a sigh as you sunk onto his cock. Rafael’s hands were on your hips, digging hard. You knew you’d have a smattering of fingerprints in the morning.

You rolled your hips meeting Rafael’s thrusts. “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop papi.”

“Never. This is our pussy.” Rafael grunted. Bryan reached around you and began to rub your clit haphazardly, bringing you to the precipice.

“I’m going to… I am so… oh daddy!” Your voice trailed off, feeling your own orgasm approach again.

“Come for us – come for daddy and papi.” Bryan encouraged as he continued stroking you. You came violently, wailing their names. Your ears went pop, sound was fuzzy as the tendrils of your orgasm washed over you.Rafael rolled you over, so you were on your back, your legs by your ears, and he began to pound into you. Bryan knelt by your head and took off the condom,. You turned your head and he shoved his cock into your willing mouth. You felt so complete – with Rafael deep in your pussy and Bryan’s cock in your mouth.  

Bryan was first to come in your mouth, shuddering and grunting your name. His come spurted into your mouth in ropes. Bryan pulled away and Rafael slid out of you. You knew what he was going to do – as it was pre-planned. You scrambled to your knees and you kept your mouth open, still full of Bryan’s release. Rafael stroked himself furiously and as he came, Bryan swallowed his cries with his mouth. Rafael’s release covered your face and mouth, mixing with Bryan’s release. You took Rafael’s cock back in your mouth, giving him a few final sucks.

Finally, you pulled off and swallowed what was left. The mix of their releases and your spit made quite the impact. Bryan gripped your messy chin with his index finger and thumb. He then dipped down to kiss you, tasting the mix of him and Rafael on your mouth.

“Good girl. Well done.” He rumbled. Rafael made his presence known, gently wiping your face with a warm damp towel.

Both men showered you with praise and adoration, making you feel secure and cared for, even if you were their own personal sex toy. Eventually, you all fell asleep together, a mess of limbs, holding onto one another against the fireplace, as the year shifted anew. You couldn’t wait for all of the adventures that would come.

**

Tags: @madpanda75 @tropes-and-tales @delia26 @mgarner1227 @beardedmccoy @youreverycolor @neely1177 @the-baby-bookworm @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03 @beccabarba @garturbo @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @imjustreallynosy @sweetsummertime99 @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @annabelleb49 @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid @redlipstickandblacktea @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @misssirenlove @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @mishaissocoolike @thefanficfaerie @theenchantedgalleryofstories @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty @ktiz90 @evee87 @itsjustmyfantasyroom @detective-giggles @rampantmuses @jazzyjoi @caked-crusader @rachelxwayne @prurientpuddlejumper @lv7867​ @permanentlydizzy​ @bisexual-dreamer02​ @madamsnape921​ @averyhotchner​ @teamsladsandgents​ 

[luv4fandoms]

Earth Angel (GabrielXOFC)

(Part 1)

So this doesn't fully follow the Supernatural timeline, somethings have been changed (like Gabriel's death in the au world cause it was stupid and I refuse to accept it lol) so just a heads up. This is also inspired by @askpsychocas 's Angel Courting Ritual post (which I use in my story. Askpsychocas if you want me to take those parts out let me know and I will). This story also has a Scott Pilgram vibe lol.

(Also if anyone knows how to do the "Keep Reading" thing on the mobile app can you let me know? Cause I can't figure it out)

If you would like to be added to a taglist for this story let me know.

Pairing: Gabriel x OFC

Warning: Cussing, killing, slight mention of torture.

Word count: 5,668

https://ko-fi.com/luv4fandoms

(From @askpsychocas 's angel courting ritual)

Step One: Recognize your intended.

Angels are warriors, no matter what rank. Most are attracted to strength of will and faith in their cause. Bright plumage is often utilized. Angels either grow in brighter feathers or they naturally change colour in order to lure in intended mates. Large, well-groomed wings is a sign of vitality.

Obviously, this is a step both modern and traditional courting rituals use.

"Earth angel, earth angel, will you be mine?

My darling dear, love you all the time

I'm just a fool, a fool in love with you"

I sang along as I drove down the road, my latest case bringing me back to my childhood state of Florida. There had been at least three people turn up dead recently, all with their hearts missing, so originally I thought it would be a werewolf, but there have been more and more people talking about the recent "Dogman" sightings...So...Skinwalker maybe? Either way, off I drove from the case I just finished up in Alabama, back home. My stomach growling loudly was the only other noise beside the radio and the car, and it was my indication that it was time to stop in at my favorite diner.

A few more miles and I was pulling into the parking lot of "Sally's diner" a small little place off the beaten track, one you wouldn't find unless you knew about it or were taking the scenic route, but it was a diner that hadn't been touched by time since it opened back in the 50's, and it was a place I visited often when near. Once I parked I noticed a very familiar vehicle a few spaces down, and I couldn't help the smile that formed. Quickly stepping into the diner I was greeted with the smell of fresh brewed coffee and cooked onions...Ah...Home.  Looking around I spotted who you knew would be here, the owners of that familiar car, Sam and Dean Winchester, but what really caught my eye was the person sitting with them,or rather the giant pair of gold wings that sat with them. I looked around, but no one seemed to notice them.

'How does no one notice them?! Ok...maybe only hunters can see them? Maybe he makes them only visible to us...yeah it has to be something like that, just shrug it off Liz'

I mean, Sam and Dean seemed to be getting along with whoever it was...somewhat well...Ok they looked kinda annoyed, Dean more than Sam. So the...Being couldn't be that bad,right?

Heels clicked across checkerboard floors as I made my way over to their booth, the stranger's voice reaching me as I drew closer.

"Come on Dean-o, you love me and you know it" 

"I swear Sam I'm going to kill him" Dean muttered while Sam just shook his head.

"I thought I recognized that beauty out front,and I don't mean my car" I smiled, finally reaching the booth and catching the attention of all three men. The boy's smiles matched my own as they quickly stood from the booth.

"Long time no see" Dean smiled, hugging me tightly before releasing me to Sam who was quick to get a hug in as well.

"How have you been?" He asked.

"Good, just came off a job, though I'm guessing we're here for the same reason" I laughed.

"And who is this beauty?" The new voice spoke again, this time when I turned I could fully see the owner, and well...I was not disappointed. Golden brown hair swept back over a face that couldn't have been much older than the boys, whiskey colored eyes filled with mirth, and...something else, and a smile that was both inviting and also showed mischievousness. To say that the man...Being...was gorgeous would be an understatement, and the golden wings really suited him, both in appearance and, what you suspected to be a very flashy, playful personality.

"Well hey there sweetie, they call me Liz, nice to meet you" I smiled, holding out my hand for him.

"Nice to meet you too" he smirked while taking my hand and kissing the back on it, his eyes never leaving mine before he gave me a wink.

"Ok ok that's enough Gabriel" Dean spoke, causing Gabriel to let go of my hand and me to laugh.

"So, what's a beautiful classy lady like you doing hanging out with these two lumberjacks?" Gabriel asked, scooting over and patting the seat beside him, I sat down before Sam or Dean could protest, but made sure to watch out for his wings, it was bad enough the poor guy was tucking them as much as he could, I didn't wanna sit on them by accident.

"They helped me out on a case a few years ago, we've just kept in touch ever since" I shrugged

"They help when I need it and I help when they need it," I added with a  smile.

"Wait...You're a hunter?" Gabriel asked, looking honestly shocked.

"What? Women can't be hunters?" I teased, he opened his mouth to speak before someone chimed in.

"Here are your drinks, your food will be out soo- Liz! It's good to see you!" The young waitress smiled, Maddie and I were good friends since I started coming to the diner, after I politely publicly embarrassed and pretty much shamed a dude who was grossly hitting on and harassing her.

"It's good to see you too sweetie" I smiled, leaning up to hug her when she leaned down.

"Just passing through again?"

"I may be staying a couple of days this time" 

"Well we are always open for you" she winked before asking

"Your usual?"

"You know me so well Mads" I smiled, she smiled back and with a nod turned to leave.

"You must come here often" Sam laughed

"As often as I can when I'm near" I smiled.

"So, back to the fact that your friend here doesn't think girls can be hunters" I smirked.

"Now I never said that" Gabriel defended himself which caused Sam and Dean to crack a smile.

"I just mean...You don't...there seems to be a uniform with this type of work"

"Flannel?" I asked with a laugh.

"Exactly! And you...Well" he gestured to my figure, my blue polka dotted 50's style top, black cigarette pants, and small heels. my makeup light except a winged liner and bright red lips...it was true...I didn't look like a hunter.

"Sorry, I left my plaid dress in my bag" I smiled.

"I'll take it as a compliment though," I added, giving him a wink.

"So you're saying Liz is too pretty to be a hunter?" Sam asked

"Oh don't worry Sam, you're pretty too" I smiled causing him to chuckle.

"Isn't he though? I keep telling him that" Gabriel teased and I couldn't help but laugh at it, especially when Sam just rolled his eyes.

"Ok now that we have established that Liz and Sam are both pretty" Dean started, earning a glare from his brother.

"I'm guessing you're here for this case too," he added.

"Yeah,though I'm a bit stumped" 

"What's there to be stumped about, classic werewolf" Dean stated.

"See that's what I thought too, until I noticed all of the Dogman sightings being reported recently." I started, leaning onto the table to lower my voice.

"Wait Dogman, really?" Dean asked mockingly.

"Mock all you want to, but I know a hoax from real and Dean, we don't have another moon landing on our hands here"

"Skinwalker?"Sam suggested

"Possibly, but I've never seen one like this, legit looked like the classic wolf on two legs deal" I stated, leaning back in the seat when I heard footsteps approaching. 

"Here you are! One bacon deluxe burger, one complete breakfast combo, and two mega waffle plates. And here is your coffee Liz" Maddie smiled.

"Thank you" Sam and I smiled, Dean already eating, Maddie nodded and left again, I turned to pour syrup onto my waffles when I noticed eyes on me, turning my head I was met with wide eyes and a smile.

"Yes Gabe?" I asked before returning to my syrup task.

"Nothing just...Where have you been all my life?" He asked, causing me to laugh while cutting into my waffles.

"Mostly in Florida" I shrugged

"Until later on, then...well...then I guess it was just catch me if you can" I winked, popping a piece of the sugary goodness in my mouth and giving a small moan at the flavor.

"Still the best waffles ever" 

"So we are thinking what? New monster? A-a skinwolf? Werewalker?" Dean asked.

"Possibly?" I answered

"A werewolf and skinwalker danced the lambda?"Gabriel asked, I simply shrugged.

"Love is love, who are we to judge what two different species do" 

"Yeah expect when that offspring starts killing people"

"Well one good thing, silver kills them both" Sam replied

"There we go, Sam always coming in with the silver lining" I spoke.

"Pun intended?"Gabriel asked before taking another bite.

"Happy accident" I smiled.

As I ate I noticed that neither of the boys mentioned Gabriel's wings, even as they twitched and ruffled from being constrained for so long, poor guy, I hoped it didn't hurt. But the fact that no one had brought it up made me wonder if it was rude to mention them? Or was this such a common occurrence that they were simply used to them? Either way I watched them spread a bit wider while Gabriel stretched once the four of us were outside the diner, I could see now that the color wasn't simply gold, but an array of gold-ish shades, going from a dark gold almost bronze at the base of each feather, up to an almost honey color at each tip. They did shine a bit in the sun but they weren't the glittering gold I had originally thought they were. Though, even in their half stretched state I could tell that they were massive, and if unfurled fully would be very intimidating.

"So, until we know what we are dealing with, why don't you let us handle it" Dean started, but I quickly cut him off.

"Uh no. We ain't doing this damsel in distress thing, I can hold my own just as well as you two can and you know it. And besides, you know this town? These people really well?" After a moment of silence I continued.

"Exactly, so I'm part of this case like it or not" I finished, crossing my arms over my chest.

"You tell em sweetcheeks!" Gabriel spoke, walking up beside me. I noticed now that we weren't sitting, due to my heels I was a few inches taller than him.

"So where is the scooby gang off to first?" He asked.

"Ok fine!" Dean sighed.

"Dean why don't you and Gabriel go to the morgue and Liz and I-" Sam started before Dean and Gabriel both interrupted.

"No I am not getting stuck with him" came from Dean while

"Hey hey how come you get Liz?" Came from Gabriel.

"Hey, the only reason you're even here is because Cas suggested that we take you along" Dean pointed at Gabriel who simply rolled his eyes and looked away from Dean.

"Ok Sam and Dean you two go talk to the families, you're better at that, Gabriel and I will go check out the stiffs" I smiled before turning and making my way to my car before they could say anything. I looked back at Gabriel but found him right beside me.

"I love a woman who can take charge" he winked, I couldn't help but laugh.

"Hunting with those two, you have to, otherwise they steal all the action" I smiled while climbing in the driver seat, I noticed that Gabriel hesitated to climb in, and for a moment I wondered if he was afraid of my driving, but upon leaning over to tease him about it I noticed him looking at my car. I knew she was a beauty, a white 1958 Chevy Impala with gold accents, our cars were the first thing Dean and I bonded over. But what really seemed to be holding his attention was the gold pinstriped wings and name of my car...Angel.

"See something you like?" I giggled, catching his attention as he looked through the window at me, a smile forming before he opened the door and hopped in.

"And soft seats" he said while moving around.

"You really know how to spoil a guy"

"What can I say? I like to treat my men well" I chuckled while backing out of the diner and making my way to the morgue.

"So what was that about someone suggesting that the boys take you along for a ride?" I asked after a moment.

"Ugh, my little brother Cas decided that it would be a grand ole time if I tagged along with Scully and Mulder, said it would be a good bonding experience" he explained. 

"And is it? Do you feel bonded?" I giggled.

"I wouldn't mind bonding with you" he smirked, wiggling his brows and earning another laugh from me. 

"Sorry sweetie, I ain't that type of gal" I replied while pulling up into the parking lot. 

"So is this where we get to pull out our fake badges and pretend to be the FBI?" He asked, raising his hand like he was about to snap his fingers.

"Nope,this is the part where the sheriff knows that I'm a hunter and anything weird that comes in I get a call about" I smiled while stepping out.

"Aww, I wanted to play criminal minds" he pouted, and I had to admit, he could rival Sam in adorableness. 

"Sorry sweetie, maybe some other time" I patted his shoulder before leading the way. Just as I had said, the sheriff let us look at the bodies right away, and yeah...All signs pointed to either werewolf or skinwalker. 

"Well it looks like I'll have to get my silver bullets ready" I sighed while pulling the sheet back on the third vic, Gabriel walked around the room, looking at random things, and for a moment I watched his wings easily avoid everything they might hit before I turned my attention back to the body.

"You really don't have a problem with any of this do you?" Gabriel asked from across the body.

"An innocent person dead? Yeah I got a lot of problems with it"

"No not that, this" he gestured to the body

"Looking at dead bodies, hunting monsters, most women I've met wouldn't go near this kind of stuff"

"Sweetie no offence but it sounds like you've been hanging out with little girls then, not women" I smirked while meeting his eyes, his wings ruffled behind him in almost a shiver motion, jerking slightly open for a split second before hiding behind him again. 

"You know...Maybe you're right" he spoke, his voice quiet, almost as if he were speaking to himself instead of me. I tore my eyes away from his to look back at the body, a young girl, no older than nineteen, heart gone and a lot of her guts too.

"Wait" I tilted my head trying to get a better look at what was attached to where her intestines used to be. 

"Hand me those tweezers please" I asked Gabriel, motioning towards the table behind him. He quickly handed them to me and I plucked the strange fibers off of the body.

"Well agent, any ideas?" Gabriel asked.

"That my lovely partner...Is wolf fur" I stated before adding

"So skinwalker"

"Or Dean-o was right and we are dealing with a skinwolf" Gabriel replied.

"Let's stick with werewalker" I spoke, pushing the body back into its freezer and tossing the gloves off on my way to the door.

"Skinwolf sounds like some really weird porno you'd find on the wrong side of the internet at like one in the morning" I laughed 

"You sound like you're speaking from experience, something you'd like to share with the class?" 

"Trust me, no, I'll leave all the weird stuff to my family" I told him before calling Dean to tell him what we had found, he explained that all three of the vics had gone hiking out at the major state park where their bodies were found. So I agreed to head there and we'd all check it out.

"So you're family, they hunters too?" Gabriel asked when I pulled back out onto the road.

"I'll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours" I smiled, watching him from the corner of your eye. I was hoping maybe some info on his family would help me figure out what he was because honestly the wings were throwing me. My first thought of course was an angel but...I had never met one before...I suppose there could be angels out there, perhaps in hiding or fallen, but if he was hiding why did he show his wings to every hunter? So maybe he was something else? His wings were sure majestic enough to be angelic that was for sure, I had noticed it when you left the police station, the way his wings seemed...brighter almost. They were lighter in color, the base of each feather now a burnt gold instead of bronze, to a lighter honey color at the tips, but what caught my eye was how much more they shined than they did at the diner.

'Maybe the color is attached to his mood?'

"Not much for me to say sweetcheeks, brothers are douches, love em to death but, and dad...dad left a while ago"  he stated, his voice lowering at the last part.

"Yeah my dad left a while ago too" I nodded.

"Is that the reason you started hunting?" He asked.

"Partially, after he left my mom got back together with her first husband..he's a hunter so..didn't take long for all us kids to get into it"

"How many siblings you got?"he asked

"Six counting step siblings. Got one half brother, two blood brothers, a step brother and step sister" Gabriel let out a low whistle that made me laugh.

"Yeah I know, the kicker, I'm the youngest out of them all" 

"Yeah me too, but, that just means that we are the final perfect outcome, all the others were just prototypes" he said with a wave of his hand. I couldn't stop the laugh even if I wanted to, and the look on his face almost made me wonder if his whole goal was to do just that.

"I am so using that at the next family gathering" I told him once I had finally caught my breath.

"So…"Gabriel started after a moment of silence.

"Have you ever wanted to do anything other than hunting?" He asked

"Don't really know" I shrugged

"I've been doing this since I was nine so" I stated.

"So? You've got your whole life ahead of you! Come on, ever wanted to travel?" He asked

"I do travel" I smirked, causing him to roll his eyes.

"Outside of the country, France, Italy, places like that"

"Oh, yeah I guess I always wanted to visit like England. But work keeps me pretty busy, and it's not like hunting really pays the bills" I laughed while pulling up into the park's entrance near Dean's car. You heard Gabriel mumble something as I got out, but it was too low for me to understand, and Dean started talking as soon as I got out. 

"So what did you find out?"

"That you may actually be right" I replied as I made your way over to them.

"That doesn't happen often" Sam joked, earning a glare from Dean.

"The vics were all missing hearts sure, but I found fur on one of them as well"

"Could just be an animal that left that" Sam added

"Wolf fur? Gray wolf fur? Not here in Florida" I replied

"How do you know it was wolf fur?" Dean asked

"My stepdad hunts, more than just monsters, I know my fur" I laughed. 

"Ok well, everyone have their silver?" Sam asked, to which I showed my two loaded pistols and knife. He and Dean nodded before leading the way, leaving Gabriel and I to trail behind.

"You always carry those around?" He asked, nodding towards my weapons.

"Always best to be prepared" I winked, watching as a smile spread on his lips and his wings ruffle behind him. I found myself once again curious about them, were they attached to his emotions? Could he move them like an actual bird? Or did they just kinda do their own thing? They were the same colors as in the car but now with the bright sunlight peeking through the trees, they shimmered much more when you weren't looking right at them, like only if you caught them out of your peripheral did they look like metal. The hike was fairly quiet, the sounds of our collective footfalls and the creatures of the forest the only things meeting my ears, nothing seemed out of place-until we all reached the middle of the park. I knew that there was an old ranger station out this far, had been since the park was zoned, but a while ago they decided to make a new ranger station closer to the trailhead and exit, figuring it would be better than in the middle if someone were to get lost out here. The sounds of a branch snapping behind us had both Gabriel and I turning to look, but not being able to see anything. 

"Gabriel?" Sam asked quietly while surveying our surroundings. 

"There's something there," he replied, eyes darting around the treeline. 

"Just one?" I asked, slowly reaching for my gun.

"No, there's four of them," he stated.

"Four?" Dean asked just before something lunged at him, knocking him over and causing him to let out a grunt.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, turning and shooting the beast as it pinned Dean, jaws snapping at his face while he pushed back. One clip in and finally the thing fell over, motionless beside Dean who quickly got up.

"What the hell is that?!" Dean shouted, wiping the things blood from his face.

"Werewalker" I replied, looking over at the beast who did in fact resemble the beast from every werewolf movie I had seen. The body not quite human but not quite wolf, shaggy gray fur covering the stretched skin, hands and feet now clawed appendages, and the face having a long snout filled with long sharp teeth. 

"Ok that...That isn't natural" Dean spoke, finally regaining his breath.

"Well one good thing, your gunshots and girlish screams chased the other three off" Gabriel stated, still looking around.

"I did not scream" Dean quickly defended, to which Gabriel simply smirked, man he really loved messing with them, and honestly it was quite comical how easily he could do it. 

"We need to find the others" Sam quickly spoke, getting everyone back on task.

"There is an old ranger station not far, that might be their hideout" I told them, already stepping ahead, we needed to get this done, and we needed to do it quickly, if these things got out of state it could lead to a trail of bloody bodies and fast. Gabriel quickly caught up, flanking my right but also slightly in front, the boys on my left. Man if a girl ever wanted to feel protected this was the group to hunt with. About fifteen more minutes of hiking and we could see the collapsing roof of the old station. The building had long since started to decay, broken windows from rowdy teens, and holes in the walls and roof from most likely the same cause. 

"Anything?" I asked, glancing over at Gabriel who's eyes were focused on the building.

"Two inside" 

"Werewalker or?" I inquired further, watching as he focused.

"One's just a skinwalker...The other" he started, trailing off as his eyes widened before he muttered "shit" just as something could be heard running through the trees to our right. Quickly pushing Gabriel aside I unloaded my clip into the beast as it leapt from the brush, dodging it as it's limp body fell to the ground where I had been standing. I was about to ask if he was ok when we heard more noise from our left, Sam and Dean were only able to get a few shots off before they found themselves thrown, Gabriel ran over, an odd silver blade in hand as he began to fight one of the beasts. I reached for my other gun, about to go help when I found myself face first on the ground, a weight holding me down as a growl echoed behind me.

"You stupid hunter bitch!" She yelled, before her weight left my back and I felt her gripping my collar, I reached back to grab her hand but soon I was sent flying. My body collided with the tree before I even felt it, a grunt slipping past my lips as I hit the ground. 

"Liz!" I could hear Dean yell while I tried to fight off the dizziness. 

"You three will not interfere!" She shouted, before letting out a whistle, which was soon followed by the growls and heavy footfalls of more beasts. Who the hell was this woman? Finding my balance I rose to my feet, gun in hand and pointed towards her before she turned to look at me again, a smile on her face revealing sharp teeth. She wasn't the same as them...she was just a werewolf.

"That's cute" she spoke, turning fully towards me now.

"So what did he tell you huh? Or did he just give you a fun night and you were hooked?" She asked, slowly advancing towards me.

"What?" My face showed true confusion at her words, what the hell was she talking about?

"Gabriel" she stated, as if that would explain everything.

"He won't stay, he'll just up and leave one day, no goodbye, no anything" she added...oh...oh she thinks.

"And you'll look everywhere for him, cause he was the only one that ever made you feel alive"

"Listen lady, I don't know what you think, but he and I just met today," I explained.

"Doesn't matter, you're an obstacle, and I'll be damned if I lose him again"she spoke, bolting forward and grabbing my gun before I could get off any shots, her other hand grabbing my wrist and slinging me into a nearby tree. I could hear more gunfire, everyone else still struggling with the werewalkers as I tried to grab my knife.

"Oh no you don't!" She yelled, punching me in the stomach before throwing me back towards the station. I gasped for the air I had lost upon impact, when her face came into view again, her body pinning mine down as her mouth stretched into a smile. I glanced around, Gabriel, was helping Sam finish off one beast while Dean quickly killed another, but what caught my eye was the silver knife nearby, within arms reach, it looked just like the one Gabriel held but he still had his, so this must have fallen off one of the boys? At that moment I didn't care, looking back at the woman as she hovered closer.

"You know, I would turn you, make you one of my pack, but you see...You'd still be in the way..so I think I'll just kill you instead, easier that way" she spoke, mouth opening and starting to lunge forward when her body halted, mouth slowly closing while her eyes widened and she leaned back, examining the blade that now protruded from her ribcage.

"You're right killing is easier" I told her, watching as she slowly fell to the side, her body still as I yanked the blade out of her heart. I pushed her body fully off of me and stood, looking over at the boys who looked just as disheveled. I turned back to the station, remembering Gabriel had said there was a skinwalker in there as well, but the sight I was met with wasn't what I was expecting. A young boy, no older than eighteen was chained to the wall, the lower half of his body already changing to that of one of the beasts. 

"What the hell?" I heard Dean's rough voice ask beside me, we all looked at the kid, barely breathing and too weak to even open his eyes, but somehow found his voice.

"Please" he begged, his pitiful noise causing my eyes to tear up.

"Don't let me become like them" he added, we all looked at him for a moment, this poor kid, life barely begun and he was already a skinwalker...Now he was becoming...Something even worse. I looked away as Dean lifted his gun, seeming to be the only one that had the will to give into the kids request. The sharp sound of the shot rang out and my body jumped a bit, before feeling a hand rest on my shoulder, I looked up to be met with a comforting honey gaze and I nodded at his unspoken message 'it was for the best'.

 Night had fallen by the time we had dug a hole big enough to put all the bodies in and we stood for a moment after Dean threw the match.

"So..I have a question" I started.

"I have a lot- Like who the hell was that?" Dean added as we all looked at Gabriel, who never took his eyes off the fire.

"Her name was Sophia, we met...a while ago"he started

"We had a fling for a bit and then it ended, I'm all for getting crazy, but she was an animal in bed" he added, trying to lighten the mood, but if the resting bitch faces Sam and Dean were giving him were anything to go by, it wasn't working.

"So you mean I almost got killed by your crazy ex girlfriend?" I asked, arms crossed.

"One, I didn't think I would ever see her again, and two, your handled yourself beautifully sugarplum, even against an alpha, you two boneheads need to take notes from this one" Gabriel spoke, gesturing towards me, but his last quip wasn't what caught the boys ears, or mine.

"Alpha?!" I asked, looking down at the now burnt body.

"That was an Alpha?" Sam asked, eyes never leaving Gabriel's form while Dean looked upset.

"Liz just went toe to toe with a fucking alpha?" 

"And she won! She's a lot tougher than she looks." He smiled, walking up behind me and placing his hands on my shoulders. 

"You son of a-" Dean started but I cut off his no doubt, bloody rant about killing Gabe.

"That's how she was turning them so easily, the Skinwalkers" 

"Seems like it, Sophia always said she would do anything to make her pack strong again"Gabriel confirmed.

"I wonder if the bunker has anything about alphas doing stuff like this in the past" Sam spoke, by his quiet tone I knew he was speaking more to himself than anyone else but his words made my ears perk up.

"Bunker?" I asked.

"Yeah it's…" he started but seemed unsure on how to proceed.

"Our home" Dean provided, looking over at Sam.

"Home" I nodded, sure I had a family, but home wasn't something I had for a while. We kinda jumped from safe house to safe house making sure everyone was ok. As if sensing my declining mood, Gabriel draped his arm around my shoulder, the body heat seeping through my cardigan and warming the skin I hadn't even realized was cold. But what really caught my attention was the golden wing that also came to wrap around me as well, the fire causing a more orange glow to overtake the gold, but they still shimmered in the flickering light, and they almost seemed...Fuller. 

"How about we go grab some food, I know I could eat, how about you sweets?" He asked, his face inches from mine as I watched the light of the fire dance across his honey gaze, almost causing them to become the same color as his wings. 

"Yeah, I could eat" I nodded.

"Alright, let's head out"Dean spoke, turning to leave. 

"And uh, if you don't have any more cases...You can come back to the bunker with us, there's plenty of room" Sam suggested, Dean looking back as they both waited for my answer, I thought for a moment, all I really did was travel from case to case, it would be nice to rest for a bit. 

"I'd like that" I smiled, Sam's grin mirroring mine while Dean gave a small smirk. We all began to walk towards the trailhead but I noticed that Gabriel hadn't followed, looking back I noticed he was still by the fire, staring at the now pile of ashes.

'He must be remembering the times he had with her' I thought, and for some reason that thought made my stomach feel uneasy, confused I pushed those feelings aside, they didn't make sense anyways, instead my gaze landed again on Gabriel before I called out.

"You comin' sweetie?" My voice seemingly knocking him out of whatever trance he was in because his head soon lifted so that our eyes locked once more, but this time there was something different in his stare and I watched as his wings rose high above him, stretching out to their full size. The thick mass of feathers glinting in an unearthly way in the flickering light, and for a moment it didn't seem like I was looking at a human form, instead I could almost make out a golden light, something that both held form and didn't, something that seemed ancient and unknown. My breath caught in my throat and I wondered for what felt like the hundredth time today just what he was. Our stare never broke, and I realized what I was seeing lingering in his stare...Determination.

I hope everyone enjoyed part 1! Let me know what you think! Please stay tuned for part 2 and if you would like to be added to a tag list for this story let me know!

[poguesofthebau]

Hi love! Idk if you’re still doing ships, but if you are could you please do one for the obx characters for me? I’m a 5”3 straight gal with short red hair and pale skin. I could’ve been in twilight lol. I love rock and alternative music. I’m also a dancer:) I love making people happy and always try to be there for everyone and have a smile on my face. I do get really nervous super easily and I never quite know how to handle but we deal. Thank you! I hope you’re doing alright during these times!

i ship you with pope!! (honorary mention: we all know jj also loves rock and alternative so the two of you would initially bond over music taste, and then you’d become besties, and you’d go to concerts and stuff together and it would be the world’s cutest friendship. also nothing could make pope happier than his best friend and his girl being so close.)

pope was a smart ass just like jj and john b, something i think we sometimes forget bc our judgements are clouded by his angel-babyness. but, like, that first scene of episode one when he tells john b he’ll shoot him on his way down? that “i’ll be so safe?” two of many examples of times when pope’s words were just like... out of pocket. you would legit just love sitting and listening to jj and pope bicker back and forth, even though it often times annoyed the shit out of kie and john b, you thought it was hilarious. the first real thing about pope you saw was his sarcasm. at first, you thought he was just the brains of the operation, but once you got into the back of the twinkie with the boys for the first time, you realized... pope was like an onion. yes, that’s right, layers. *cue shrek quote* the more you saw of him, the real pope, the more intrigued you were. soon enough you realized that intrigue was more of an interest, and then the interest grew to feelings. everyone had kind of expected you to end up with jj when you first started hanging around with them, but when you and pope got together (after you executed an elaborate plan to trick him into kissing you during a kegger and then confessed your feelings to him), no one was really that surprised. the two of you just sort of balanced each other out somehow. in times when pope was freaking out over school or his scholarship or kooks being out to get him, you could shoot him the perfect goofy little grin to pull him out of it. and when you started to fret a little too much over jj doing risky ass flips off the hms pogue or picking a fight with rafe or going home to his dad, pope always found just the right way to say ‘he’s an idiot but he knows what he’s doing.’ 

that was pretty much the situation one night at the Boneyard. before you’d left for the kegger, pope was absolutely going out of his mind trying to edit an english paper that was due the following monday. it was worth a huge amount of his grade, and english was his ‘worst subject,’ so he insisted on sitting silently in the guest room of The Chateau, rereading and making edits where they needed to be made. you, however, were not accepting that. after jj and john b burst into the room and tried to rip his laptop out of his grip, resulting in an obsessive and angry pope, you were slipping quietly into the room and sitting next to him in the bed. peeking over his shoulder, you skimmed over a few words before looking back to your boyfriend. “whatcha doin’?” pope was typing rapidly on the keys, not even pausing when you spoke. “ummm... i’m... just... working on... my... paper.” with his final word, he glanced up at you. you’d catch his eye for just a second before he was turning back to his laptop screen. “hmmm,” you’d hum, leaning forward to obstruct his view a little. “hey, i can’t see!” as he spoke, pope stopped typing to throw his hands up in the air, giving you the perfect opportunity to quickly press Save before slamming the laptop shut. “all done. come on, now, my little genius.” “hey! what the hell! i have to finish that!” as pope complained, you would be moving the laptop to the side, standing in front of the boy and placing a hand on each side of his face. “no, you have to finish it monday. today, friday, we party. ‘kay?” you pecked his lips a few times, kissing him until he broke into a smile. “that’s like, scientifically not fair. you just loved me out of my homework.” you’d grin, grabbing his hands to pull him off the bed and toward the living room where the others were waiting. “hey, it’s not my fault you make me love you so much, pope.”

so there you were an hour later, flip flops thrown to the side as you wiggled your toes in the sand. you and pope were sat on a log on the Boneyard, red solo cups in hand, laughing at some stupid shit that john b had said. so far, pope was secretly grateful that you’d dragged him out, because this was one of the most fun, peaceful nights he’d had in a decent chunk of time. but of course, as soon as pope admitted that fact to himself, things took a turn. things, as in, the current population of the Boneyard. rafe cameron himself had officially set foot on the beach, and pope knew the vibe was about to die a brutal, painful death. and, as per usualy, he was right. barely half an hour after he arrived, rafe had made his way over to you, laying right into sarah, john b, and jj. (for some reason, they were his favorite pogues to verbally and sometimes physically torture.) things escalated quickly, with kie throwing her drink on rafe and jj immediately stepped in to defend her actions. you, not the biggest fan of physical fights, would be trying not to hyperventilate from where you stood a few feet away, shifted slightly behind pope as chaos ensued. after yelling a few times to try to stop jj, pope was turning to you. his hands would be on your shoulders, shaking you gently to get you to shift your eyes from jj slamming rafe into the ground to him. your eyes flickered over to his, and you snapped back into reality. “fuck,” you’d breathe, eyes still wide. “it’s fine. he’ll be fine. just stay behind me, okay?” and once you nodded to let him know you were okay, he would turn back to his friend to find him on his back, taking hits from rafe. soon enough john b and topper were interfering, having developed some newfound peace, to separate their friends from each other. after each almost breaking loose a few times, the fight was over, and all that was left to deal with was jj’s anger. you dropped your forehead onto pope’s back, sighing in relief. “i’m sorry i took you from your homework, after all.” he’d turn back to you, a smile on his face. “at least i got drinks and a show, i guess.” he’d lean down and kiss you, breaking away a few seconds later when you giggled at your own thoughts. “you’re still ridiculous about that paper, though.”

[aij-writes]

Quarter Past Wrong, Pt 2

Rating: Teen, Swearing, Mild Fantasy Violence, Romance

Pairing: Ignyx (Ignis/Nyx)

Summary: Ignis is superhuman...if he is human.  Nyx is pretty sure he’s a vampire.  Case in point...

Warnings: So…going by Japanese standards, even a 17 year old isn’t at the age of majority, so by Insomnia standards, Ignis is still a little young for the 26 year old Nyx.  In Galahd, and his heart, it wouldn’t matter.  Age range is nine years because I accidentally bump up Ignis’s age to three years older than Noctis (instead of 2 ½ of canon) and Gladio a year older than Ignis.  Also, I have a headcanon I’m carrying over that Dragoon is a race and Ignis is a Dragoon.  If I ever write an explanation to this I’ll link it.

Other Tags: Canon compliant, Brotherhood Era, Best friends Gladio & Ignis, Slow burn?, pining, OCs with no development for plot purposes, gratuitous workout and training scenes

For @ffxvignyxzine using all the prompts on day 2 “Meet me after dark”, Rain, Is he a vampire or am I imagining it

Second part of a multi-part fic trying to tie it all together

“Is he a vampire or am I imagining it?” Nyx asked, leaning back against the bleachers.

“Huh?” Crowe asked before throwing her fist up and cheering.  “Come on!” she yelled.

“He’s talking about the bureaucrat again,” Luche complained, leaning back from the next bench down.  He groaned, slapping money into Pelna’s hand.  “Shove it,” he complained.

Crowe continued to watch her team trounce Luche’s in rollerball.  Finally, though, she glanced at where Nyx was staring.  “Dude...don’t be weird,” she complained.

“I’m just saying,” Nyx said, insistent and on the edge of unloading.  “The kid’s not human.”

“He’s a Dragoon.  You know they say the same about you Galahdians,” Tredd offered.

Nyx kicked him hard, sending him crashing into Axis.  He leaned forward, chin in his hand balancing his elbow on his knee and watching the much nicer box seats where the prince watched.  Galahdians didn’t officially have to sit in the low stands, but they just typically did.  along with all the others that coun’t afford better tickets on their salary.  There was no use bothering to mingle with the rest of Insomnia.  They preferred them out of sight, out of mind.  As a Dragoon, Ignis might have had the same issue, the son of refugees himself.  Of course, he’d been handpicked by the king to see to his son, but Ignis faced enough discrimination that Nyx couldn’t help but sympathized.

“I mean...what does that even mean?” Crowe asked.  “Are you calling him a daemon?”  She laughed, taking the box of popcorn from Nyx and munching on a handful.

“I mean, sure, it sounds crazy but like--”

“Fangs?  He’s got fangs for biting the heads off anyone that looks at the Prince the wrong way,” Luche pointed out.

Nyx rolled his eyes.  “Okay, okay, forget it.”

“Maybe you should,” Crowe said, straining up.  “You know...no one finds stalking romantic, Ulric.”

“I’m not...and I don’t...!”  Nyx finally let his cool demeanor crack.  “It’s not like that!”

“Sure, of course not,” Luche agreed.  “He’s a teenager.  Nyx isn’t looking to break Insomnia law.”

“Forget the age of majority, Luche,” Crowe pointed out.  “The kids practically royal court.”

“I’m not trying to date anyone let alone him, Astrals!” Nyx said tensely.  “I wouldn’t date a vampire anyway!”

Tredd snickered.  “Interested in guys, Hero?”

Nyx rolled his eyes.  “All I’m interested in is figuring out if Scientia is a vampire.  That’s it.”

“Here,” Crowe said, having been on her phone.  She mailed him a list.  “Checklist.  Go do your stalking and find out before you go completely stark raving mad, alright?”  She motioned her head.  “The Crown finds out they’ve got a creature of the night tucking the prince in, they’ll give you another medal, right?”

Nyx rolled his eyes.  Still, he couldn’t help but look over the list.

---

Pale Skin/Aversion to Sunlight

Nyx was walking down the hall, talking to Gladiolus Amicitia.  Over the years, he’d gotten to know the Shield’s son as a pretty cool guy.  He’d even been invited over for a few meals at the manor and sat in on one of Gladio’s tattoo sessions when he went to get the line down his own right index.  Gladio tended to be easygoing, but honest, and just as fun and without caring he wasn’t native.  His sister liked to ask him questions, even if she never asked anything important.  Which, to be honest, he sort of liked.  It was rough with the only thing anyone wanted to ask him was about fighting.  Even Gladio’s father balanced a line between respectful and boyish enthusiasm.

Right now, Gladio was talking about a movie adaptation of some novel, complaining about the casting and merging of characters.  Nyx followed along, having read the book but not having gotten around to seeing it.  The set pieces sounded cool, but it didn’t sound enough to save a movie on a book he’d actually enjoyed.  They were headed to lunch together, as Nyx had had to pull guard duty at the gates and missed his friends’s break and Gladio just liked to rotate his options.

As they went to turn into the cafeteria though, they nearly ran right into the prince.  Fourteen and every bit as sullen as the age demanded, Noctis huffed, stepping back and looking away.  His shadow cleared his throat and Noctis rolled his eyes.  “Yeah...sorry...”

Gladio raised his eyebrows, before asking Ignis, over Noctis’s head and silently, He alright?

Ignis gave Gladio a sympathetic look.  Father, he mouthed back.

Nyx guessed that meant something about the king.  Before he could get too worried about King Regis, though, Noctis huffed and kicked his shoe against the floor.

“Since Dad’s too busy, can I just go back to my room?”

Ignis frowned, fingers nervously worrying over his cuff.  Gently and proddingly, he said, “Noctis, wouldn’t you like to sample the changed menu?  There’s a new burger I think has merits and--”

Noctis let out a tortured noise.  He frowned as Gladio snorted and rolled his eyes.  “Oh yeah, sure, and then everyone can whisper and point and go Oh look, it’s the prince.  I put up with that enough at school, Ignis, thanks.”

Ignis sighed, pushing his glasses up.  “Your Highness...”

Gladio threw an arm around Noctis’s shoulders.  “Come on.  You two can join me and the Hero.  That way, if anyone’s staring, you can tell yourself it’s in awe of braids and muscles.”  He eyed Ignis.  “And those ridiculous bags under your mom’s eyes.”  He put a hand on Ignis’s shoulder, holding him there.  “Astrals, Iggy, you stay up all night cleaning up after His Bratiness again?”

Ignis squirmed.  “Honestly, Gladio!”  He frowned.  Like the kid didn’t have enough criticisms getting through his teenage years.  His acne was finally under control.  Though his skin was much smoother and soft now, he was all the more paler for it.  For a moment there, Ignis had quite a time.  He dressed like a little business man, had glasses, an overbite, acne, and carried a briefcase everywhere.  At seventeen, he was finally growing into his looks having started to do things with his hair and put together slightly more stylish versions of the blazer-dress pants-collared shirt that was his uniform.  Still, he had a wan look.  He looked like he carried the fate of the entire kingdom on his shoulders.

“I’ll grab us a table,” Nyx offered.  “You’re still buying, right?” he asked Gladio, punching him on the shoulder  “Get me an orange juice with a deluxe burger and onion rings.”

Noctis made a gagging noise.  “Orange juice at lunch?” he said to Nyx.  He looked around the cafeteria then settled his eyes outside.  “Can’t we go eat outside?”

Nyx looked at Ignis, almost holding his breath in expectation.  It was dumb but--

Ignis gave Noctis a patient, apologetic smile.  “It’s really more comfortable in here, right?”

“In the gardens, no one will know I’m there,” Noctis tried to and failed not to whine.

“And I won’t know anyone’s sneaking up on you,” Gladio said, crossing his arms.

“You’re supposed to be ready for sneak attacks,” Noctis pointed out.  “Warp boy’s got us, right?”

Nyx glanced at Ignis.  “It’s really nice out.  Even pencil pushers have to get sunlight sometimes, right?”

Ignis sighed.  “I’m afraid it’s a tad windy and I’d hope to finish going over your homework so I might have an evening to myself, Your Highness.  Do you mind if we stay inside?”

In the end, Noctis assented.

Mind Control

“Oh...hey,” Nyx said.  He was leaving the library, book tucked under his arm.

Ignis pursed his lips in that displeased way he had.  “Yes,” he said.  “I need to--”

“They’re closed,” Nyx said, jutting a thumb back.  “Just got kicked out myself.”  He grinned, leaning on the door.  “Not so quick now, huh?”

Ignis frowned at Nyx, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Hey, come on, no need to pout.  I’m sure you’ll be up early enough that you only have to wait a few hours, right?”  Nyx tried to nudge Ignis on the arm, but he didn’t even respond.

Nyx wasn’t even sure how, but in less than a moment, the door was unlocked and opened.  A single hand reached out with a book.  Ignis reached behind Nyx and took it.  He nodded his head at it.  He didn’t even look at Nyx as he rotated on his heel and marched back the way he came.

Arithmomania

“Anyone ever tell you that you have an attitude problem?” Nyx asked Ignis.  He was doing pull ups near where another Crownsguard was working Ignis through stretches.  Ignis looked like he was in extreme pain or simply concentrating, but he clearly ground his teeth too much.

Ignis put a finger out to flip him off.  That was with him being flipped and having his leg extended.

Nyx tried to laugh and regulate his breathing but he ended up releasing his grip.  He fell onto the mats below.  He grabbed his towel and wiped down his face.  “Wow, Scientia...you’re too much.”  He stooped down next to Ignis’s head, watching him.  “Careful Novitas doesn’t rip something.”  With his worst impression of Ignis’s Dragoon accent, he teased, “The Kingdom would fall without our favorite high-stressed gov’nor doing everything for everyone.”

“Let me...do you a favor,” Ignis said with a surprising amount of breath control.

Nyx grinned.  “Oh yeah?  You want to come over and set my pants on fire?”  Last week in training, Ignis had missed a mark and set Luche’s pants on fire.  Though Nyx had to admit it was awesome, he hadn’t let Ignis live it down.

Ignis’s face was already flushed but now he was glaring.  The way he clenched his teeth, though, it made his lips pouty and his narrowed eyes behind glasses gave him a sultry look.  Nyx tried not to notice that the guy was hotter than Ifirit’s sigh.

“No,” Ignis grunted.  “The favor is, I won’t punch you for gawking.”

Nyx grinned at him with a wide, toothy smile.  “Who’s staring?  I’m wondering if you’re almost done being stretched like taffy.  I wanted the mats for crunches and squats.”

Ignis groaned, tapping out.  “Enough, Nov!” he gasped.

“Getting limber, aren’t you?” the grinning blonde asked.  He eased Ignis’s leg down.  “One more?”  He ran his hand up and down Ignis’s back along the spine.  “Help you cool down?”

“Might put the fire out,” Ignis agreed, still giving Nyx a glare that only made him hotter.  “No, you can use the mats all around me, though.”

He tried not to think about it.  In Galahd and the rest of Lucis, it might not have been so odd to find a seventeen-year-old attractive.  In Insomnia, it was one more disconcerting thing the refugees left around them where the age of majority was twenty.  Never mind the fact Ignis clearly never thought of anything other than work and training to be better at work.  He knew he was the Prince’s future adviser, but there was enough evidence that Ignis did nearly everything for the teen and was still counted on for other things.  He overheard complaining about him speaking up at council meetings he was merely meant to take notes at and, they had the insistence of saying, the King actually discussing with the Head of Urban Development as serious advice!

Not it wasn’t so much Nyx shouldn’t find Scientia hot.  It was that he did and he knew it didn’t matter.  Fellow refugee or not, there was already murmurs of King Regis granting peerage to Ignis.  Then he wouldn’t just be an unofficial member of the royal court, he’d be a lord and there’d be an official House of Scientia.  Nyx knew that anyone that close to the royals was already too high-strung to be interested in grabbing coffee--though Ignis seemed to live of the stuff even at his age.  He’d never risk his standing for a nearly decade-older Rat who didn’t even particularly want anything.  Nyx just thought he was nice to look at.  And maybe a vampire.

As Novitas wrapped an arm around Ignis from behind, Nyx situated himself where he might watch in the mirrors if he chose to.  Between push ups, he did.  Novitas had Ignis drapped over his arm.  Ignis was bent almost double over it, hands sliding down his own legs as Novitas used his other hand to push Ignis down further.  No one should bend that easily.  No one should have Ignis in such a pliable position if he wasn’t going to do something about it.  With Novitas’s serious look, though, he clearly only had the boring workout in mind.

Ignis clearly needed to prove himself even if it was only to himself.  He was like a chocobo in a rainstorm; letting water roll of his back.  No amount of underestimation had ever caused him embarrassment.  But the impossible standards he set himself kept being held up despite how much more he stacked onto himself.

Nyx ended his last set as Ignis ended his actual cool down stretches.  He’d already thanked Novitas and they’d parted sometime before.  Libertus had ended his time on the weights, talking about his day’s best.  As he asked Nyx how much he’d done, they headed to the lockers room, Ignis trailing behind.

“I dunno...I just do ’em til I’m done.”

Ignis rattled off the numbers of pull ups, push ups, crunches, and squats Nyx had done.  He looked at their surprised faces.  “Counting habit.  When I’m working out, I’m trying not to think about anything.  Counting helps.”

---

Invitation Only

“Hey Nyx?” Gladiolus called, catching up to him.  “You good?”

Nyx rubbed his shoulder.  He had bandages over it.  A spell had gone wrong on the field last week and burst from his flesh.  He had electric burns down to the muscle.  He offered a grin.  “Sure, why not?”

“His Highness,” he said, always careful to be proper when not talking to Ignis or Noctis, “nearly gave himself frostbite a year or so ago.  No reason to act tough.”

Nyx shrugged with one shoulder.  “Who’s acting?”  He cuffed Gladio on the head.  “You ever stop growing?”

“If not up then out,” Gladio said, smirking as he flexed.  He was in a tanktop and the steadily filling in lines rippled like a bird’s plumage might actually in the wind.  He looked like he wanted to say something after that, but Nyx let him stew on his thoughts as he kept walking towards his neighborhood.  He actually wondered how long until Gladio refused to go further.

“So...you having a few people over for drinks and watch the Founder’s Day thing?”

“Yeah,” Nyx said.  “You wanna come?”

“Can Iggy come?”

Nyx raised his eyebrows.  “Uh, sure...why not....though, I can’t imagine he’d miss the real thing.”

Gladio shook his head.  “The Prince has finals and is going to stay in all night and prep.  Ignis is hoping he’ll see to himself and I want to give him a chance to be distracted from worrying he won’t.”

Nyx nodded.  “Well, my apartment isn’t going to compare to the Amicitia manor.  Or the Citidal apartments.”

“Ignis isn’t stuck up, you know.  You could give him a chance.”

“I’m not mean to him,” Nyx said with an incredulous look on his face.  “Boy, you really are protective of him, you know.  He probably doesn’t like all that big brother posturing, you know.”

“Sure, I know,” Gladio agreed.  “Except I’m always there to remind him to live a little.  It’d be nice if someone wanted to include him without wanting something from him.”

“I mean, he can come.  It’s no biggie.”  Nyx couldn’t quite say he didn’t want anything from Ignis.  To see the guy smile might be asking too much, though.

“Well, sure, if I tell him, he’ll never come.  Maybe you could invite him.  Let him know he’s welcome.”

Nyx frowned at that, but nodded.  “Sure...I’ll tell him about it.”

---

Aversion to Garlic

“What are you doing?” Ignis demanded.

Nyx looked up.  “You looked tired.  I made us coffee.”

“...what did you put in the coffee?” he asked in a careful tone.  There was some amusement there, though.

“Uh...well, it’s Ebony beans, water, chocolate flakes, honey, and...oh, yeah, I guess that’s...”  Nyx eyed Ignis carefully.  He’d been caught in the kitchens making himself a sandwich after bullshit guard duty released him way too early in the morning and caught Ignis baking.  He slid the mug over, perversely curious.  “You like to try new things?”

“Of course,” Ignis said, frowning.  “One should always look to expand their horizons.”

“Alright, well, you ever put anything in your coffee?  I know I’ve seen you only take it black from the can.”  Ignis raised his eyebrows at this, as if surprised Nyx was keeping tabs.  Or maybe it that there was any other way to have it.  Or the avoidance of answering directly.  Nyx grinned.  “So I made it how I had it back home.  You know...where I’m from.”

“In Galahd?” Ignis asked softly, picking up the mug and looking at it.  “I thought I saw spices go in.”

“Yeah...salt, pepper...garlic paste stirred in.”  Nyx smiled sheepishly.  “It’s better that way.”

“You can’t put garlic in coffee.”

“I think you’ll find I have.”  He picked up his mug, knocking it against Ignis’s.  “Drink up.”

Ignis stared into it.  “No.”

“Well, I’ll admit, a fresh clove it better.  But one sip isn’t going to kill you.”

Ignis sighed.  “I mean, I’m watching you drink it, but I swear you’re just playing a prank on me.  Maybe there’s no garlic in yours.”

Nyx snickered.  He took Ignis by the wrist, bringing his mug up and tipping a bit into mouth.  “Mmm...like Daddy used to drink.”  He released Ignis’s wrist, but used his fingers to tip the mug towards him.  “One sip,” he urged in a soft, teasing voice.  “Be brave, Crownsguard.”

Ignis looked at the mug, before meeting Nyx’s eyes.  He let him raise it to his lips, but put his other hand on Nyx’s.  He took a slow sip, still watching Nyx intently.

“Good?”

“Maybe not my taste but understandably good for others,” Ignis agreed softly.  He stepped back a bit, putting the distance and raising his voice to a normal tone, “I think I’ll take it plain from now on, but once can’t hurt.”  He smirked at bit at Nyx.  “I still think it’s some elaborate punishment game you’re just immune to.”

“No one’s immune to garlic, Ignis.  Enjoy it.”  Nyx turned from Ignis.  “It’s good for you.  How’s it any different from your quest to sneak veggies into the notoriously picky prince’s dessert?”

“Fair enough,” Ignis conceded easily.

“You must be poisoned.  You didn’t even argue.”  Nyx came back, putting the back of his hand to Ignis’s forehead.  “Is that a fever?  You’re burning up.”

Ignis rolled his eyes.  “Like I haven’t heard jokes on my name my whole life.  Imagine if you knew my middle name.”

“Middle?” Nyx asked.

Ignis looked embarrassed, at least for him.  He turned his head a bit even if he kept his eyes on Nyx unabashedly.  “Well, it’s a Dragoon thing.  We have a family, a personal, and a middle.  I wouldn’t be ashamed of it, but it’s dumb.”

Nyx grinned, leaning in.  “You’re full of secrets, aren’t you?”

“I don’t doubt it, Mr. Ulric.”  Ignis smirked a little.  “I don’t let many people too close.  Too close to me is too close to the prince.”

“You’re faithful,” Nyx pointed out.

“It’s love, Nyx.  I love my country and I love my job.”  Ignis looked up at the older man.  “I love Noctis, too.”  He bit his lip at the casual use of his name, but he was already that far in.  “I’ve taken care of him for so long, how could I not?”

“Yeah...” Nyx agreed.  “I know what you mean.”  He didn’t elaborate to Ignis, but his thoughts were to his sister.  “But you know that time isn’t all love is.”

“Of course not,” Ignis said with a huff.  “If the prince didn’t deserve my love, he wouldn’t have it, only my duty and follow through.”

“Still seems like it’s hard to earn those,” Nyx said.  “You think there’d ever be another person as lucky?”

Ignis smirked into his coffee.  “Sure.”  He let the casual assurance hang as he eyed Nyx with his teasing green guys.  “My best friend Gladiolus.”

Nyx nodded.  “Fair enough.”  He reached over, tapping Ignis’s chin up.  “Anyone would be a fool to try to stretch you any thinner.”  He gazed at him before moving on.

“That’s you, Ulric,” Ignis said, setting his mug down.  He flipped the timer on the oven off at four seconds and peered inside.  “Always issuing a challenge.”

“Name a time I ever do that,” Nyx demanded, only to frown.  “Alright, alright...”

Ignis huffed, pulling the pastries out.  He used the mitts to fan the steam rising off them.  “Everything you do around me is a challenge.  Even coffee.”

“Well...maybe you’re looking at it wrong.”

“I often don’t,” Ignis said carelessly.  “I tend to have an accurate idea of others’ motives and strategies.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”  Nyx sipped at his coffee.  “I must be that annoying know-it-all you think me as.”

Ignis raised his eyebrows.  “Or you find pushing me around is the best way to get me where you want me.”

Nyx startled, coughing around a bad swallow.  He set the mug down, watching Ignis’s back.  He took a careful step forward, sliding in next to him.  “You always seem to like things a bit direct so as to get it over and done with.”

“Hmmm...that would be a mostly accurate summery,” Ignis said, sprinkling powdered sugar over the pastries.

“Maybe I’m tired of you being over and done with people.  Me or otherwise.”

“You?” Ignis asked, having the slightest look of surprised as he realized Nyx was closer.  Right next to him with the heat off his body warmer than the pastries.  He shifted, turning to look up at him.  “And what more would you want from me?” he asked, no blush or nervous tremble.  Just honest, direct curiosity.

Nyx couldn’t help but look at those lips.  “For you to engage with people for the pure pleasure of their company.”

Ignis blinked at him, before breaking the moment by moving away without a word.  He pulled a linen-lined basket towards him and began to load the pastries in to bring up to Noct.  “I would have to find their company pleasurable, don’t you think?”

Nyx scowled.  “Right,” he said a bit abruptly.  He went to pick up his plate, ready to retreat.  “Unlike a Rat with too many opinions.”

Ignis let out an annoyed hum.  He lifted a pastry that had broken apart.  He took a knife to it, cutting it evenly in half.  He tipped it onto Nyx’s plate.  “I may be efficient, Mr. Ulric but I’m not boring.”  He gave Nyx his own challenging look.  “You want to order me around, make sure it keeps my interest.  Trade for the coffee.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” Nyx said irritably, turning to catch the hurt look cross Ignis’s face before it was as quickly schooled into a challenging look himself.  He winced at that, before taking a bite.  “Pretty good,” he mumbled around the crumbles and silky filling.  It had a warm, nutty flavor.

“Probably not good enough for His Highness but I try,” Ignis said, shrugging.  “Well...if you don’t want anything more, I guess I better leave for someone who always needs me to get him up and going in the morning.”

Nyx watched him leave, gap-mouthed.  Okay...never mind what he wanted.  What did Ignis want?

---

Bloodlust

“I’ll kill him.”

“Sure Iggy.”

“No, I will,” he snapped.  “Slowly, too.  I’ve been working on interrogation techniques with the Marshal.  I’ve found plenty of places to put a knife that’ll bleed good but not kill or maim.  Enough of those, though...”

“Well...that’ll come in handy,” Gladiolus marveled.  “How come he never has anything useful for me?  All I got was this amazing physique.”

“You did that yourself, you swole-head.”

Nyx kept walking, not wanting to know who’d get Ignis that worked up over anything.

---

Animal Familiar

Nyx burst into laughter.  Ignis shot him a look from across the hall they were passing in.  Nyx shrugged, gesturing behind him.

Noctis had stopped in his walk, standing in the light of the high window.  He had none of his usual teenage scowl.  He just blinked sleepily, smiling faintly.  He looked a bit puffed in the warmth of the sunlight.

“Your cat’s distracted,” he said with a grin, gone before Ignis could throw another withering look at him.

---

Water Barrier

Nyx had his hand over Ignis’s on his kukri’s handle.  “I want you to feel it pass from my hand to my blade,” he instructed.

They were nearly back to front, past the usual training time, but Ignis had finally asked for something.  He was having difficulty with lightning spells and issued his own challenge to Nyx he made it look so easy.  Ignis still had problems with aim and release and the erratic electricity was the worst.  Just today, upon issuing the command, Drautos had taken a tiny bolt to his knee.  He’d limped out of there after carrying practice on as normal, wincing and using Luche and Libtertus’s help to walk as he couldn’t feel his leg.

“Come on, Scientia,” Nyx urged.  “This is the only area I’ve seen where your power outstrips your finesse.  You don’t have to be the strongest on the field.  But there’s so many people around, you run the risk of getting your guys.  No amount of battle formations is going to prevent friendly fire.”

“This fire isn’t feeling so friendly,” Ignis muttered darkly.

“You need to let failures happen,” Nyx coaxed.  “Doing it right the first time means you fall into bad habits.  Like confusing trying with succeeding.”

“You are really arrogant, you know that?” Ignis shot out.

“We’re not sparring, let alone trading barbs.  I’m here instead of showering and getting a beer.  I think I’m being fucking gracious and you’re the arrogant one,” Nyx snapped.

Ignis startled.  With that, a bolt shot out, hitting one of the stone pillars.  He looked back at Nyx.  He pulled his hand from Nyx’s, using the other, uncharged one to push his glasses up.  “My apologies.”

“I don’t want ’em,” Nyx assured him.  “Just focus.”

Ignis looked around the training yard.  It was just him and Nyx.  “Of course,” he assured him.  “I let my frustrations get the best of me.”

“The best of you is better than that,” Nyx couldn’t help but say.

“You know me so well?” Ignis inquired.

“Uh...well, I know the standards you hold for yourself...they’re not easy.”  Nyx shifted a little so it was less like Ignis was in his arms.  He took his fist, placing it at the center of Ignis’s gravity above his navel.  The teen had started to shoot up in height.  Already tall, he was squeezing a few more inches out of what was left of puberty.  Nyx started to wonder if he’d end up towering like his best friend.  At seventeen, Ignis was nearly Nyx’s full height.

He swallowed, trying to ignore his thoughts of how neither would strain into a kiss.  At least physically.  The emotional, societal burden was insurmountable he decided.  Had to conclude and be done with.  This attraction was getting out of hand and it was so one-sided he’d started to consider his friends were right.  He was stalking the damn kid.

“F-feel right here,” Nyx said, only the slightest waver in his voice.  Ignis stiffened at it, but relaxed as Nyx went on, “I want you to be a storm.  Gather, pull, twist and turn in place.  Build it up.  Draw from every bit but keep it here.  Then...”  His hand went from fist to open palm, cupping the taut muscles of the Dragoon and dragging his hand up over his chest.  “Direct it,” he ordered quietly, “only a little.  You hold that storm in place,” he said, other fist going back to the spot.

He now had both arms around Ignis.  Nyx was pressed against him, their different body types fitting together well.  He kept his head turned slightly, chin barely resting against the back of Ignis’s shoulder.  His open palm continued to run, curving with Ignis’s defined curves.  “You are bringing forth one bolt,” he reminded him.  “You aren’t separating it, though.”  He gently ground his fist in a little.  “Connected to your storm, but seeking grounding.  You are connected.  Your aim is to find the easiest root from your storm to your target.”  His hand ran over Ignis’s pectoral, fingers trailing a little high to touch the exposed skin of Ignis’s collarbone for a moment, but moving on.

His hand continued its path.  From Ignis’s shoulder to arm, down, down, slow and direct.  Nyx shifted, pressing as close as he could, breath its own heat cloud against Ignis’s ear.  His hand turned, running over the inside of Ignis’s wrist before the final rest, wrists pressed together.  Ignis still had Nyx’s kukri closed in his his hand.

“Release,” Nyx guided, directly yet soft.

Ignis released a single blast that as quickly webbed out and enveloped the pillar, turning it into a beacon.  Both had to shut their eyes, but Ignis held strong as he overwhelmed it with his entire charge.  Behind eyelids, they could see it get brighter still before plunging them into darkness.

Ignis was breathing heavily, obviously worn out.  Both kept their eyes shut, but Ignis shifted in Nyx’s arms.  He handed him back his knife and turned, his own hand drawing over Nyx’s chest.  He was quicker with his movements and it came to rest in the crook of Nyx’s neck.

Nyx felt charged lips near his.  His hand gripped at fabric, holding Ignis close to him but not moving closer.

A crash of thunder startled them apart.

Ignis gasped and Nyx yelped.  But it was a real storm.  The exposed air of the training grounds let in the storm above and rain started to fall on them.

Ignis dove for cover, but it was harder to tell if it was from the rain or the man that stood in it, watching him go.

---

Fangs

“There are eyes everywhere, Scientia,” Nyx murmured, holding an impassive look.  He had guard duty for a delegation of scholars that wanted to discuss crystal magic.  They mostly wanted to implore the king again to ask him was it wise to let the Rats steal pieces.  That the Kingsglaive would be the guard was by design.

Ignis wasn’t looking at him.  But he was wondering close to Nyx.  He’d been asked to the meeting personally by the king and had stood up, impassioned in his argument that the Kingsglaive was not only necessary, but in favor of King Regis’s duty to his people.  The scholars had argued back that first and foremost, the King had to duty to the crystal itself.  The heart of their star resided in it and needed to be protected above any people.

Drautos and Leonis, rarely on the same page of anything, had taken their time to both argue.  The Marshal had pointed out His Majesty must protect his lineage to continue protecting the crystal.  Both Ignis and King Regis had shared a mutual look of distress at summing up Prince Noctis’s purpose as a progenitor for more servants to the crystal but neither had voiced it.

Drautos had merely spat out there wouldn’t be a crystal to protect if Nifleheim was allowed to snuff the lands out.  “There’s hardly a star, let alone its heart, if there’s no people to stand upon it and receive its blessing, right?”

The meeting wasn’t futile but it was frustrating.  No one walked away happy.

But Ignis wasn’t walking away.

Nyx had put a healthy space between him and Ignis.  As in always several floors away if possible, as he’d started to make himself unavailable.  Ignis hadn’t acted as if he’d noticed, but he now shot Nyx a questioning look over his glasses.  Nyx merely stood at attention, eyes gazing past him.

Pushing them up, Ignis gathered up his papers and put them in his briefcase.  He pulled on his tie, loosening it a bit.  He walked past Nyx without another word.

Only once the meeting room was empty did he finally relax his stance.  And look at the tiny paper pressed into his hand.

Meet me after dark.

Nyx wasn’t sure where or why or should or even could.  He didn’t know where Ignis went when he wasn’t working.  He certainly didn’t know what he wanted.  Not really.  The almost kiss, if that’s what it was going to be, had worn him out.  He hadn’t even thought about it.  It was too much to consider so he hadn’t.  He just avoided it and avoided Ignis.  Now he was summoning him.  Where?  Who knows.  When?  Dark was relative.  He was in the dark now.  Why?  To be threatened and yelled at?  To be grabbed and kissed?  To be lectured about propriety and laws and how a royal retainer and a soldier with nine years difference and from two completely different backgrounds were not meant to have so many run-ins?  Should he go and assure him it was a moment they’d both read wrong?  Could he really face those wide, searching eyes and listen to the berating from those pouty, full lips?

He went home.  He went home and changed and fed himself, and even got some of the chores he’d let slide.  He distracted himself.  Then he groomed himself, checking his braids and washing his face.  He dabbed on cologne and changed his shirt.  He frowned at his reflection.  He stopped dawdling and caught the train back to the Citidal.

He walked towards it with purposeful steps even if his mind was blank of any strategy.  He stopped short, though, seeing that Ignis always had a plan.

The rain had continued to fall for the last week.  Nyx had shrugged on a raincoat with a hood, but Ignis stood in his partial suit under an umbrella.  He was off to the side, at the foot of the steps.  He turned this way and that, looking like he was trying not to look so obviously looking.  But Nyx stared.

He was too much.  Too cute in his obviousness.  Too young in his unabashed forwardness.  Too out of his league in his poise and elegance even under duress.  He was too much of a bad idea.

Nyx approached, boots splashing in the rain.  Ignis still hadn’t noticed him even if he made no attempts at stealth.  But his mouth wasn’t working right, so he didn’t call out.  Nyx reached Ignis.  Ignis looked up at him, surprised and unable to force his expression to something neutral.  Nyx didn’t even pause, reaching Ignis, closing a hand around Ignis’s back, and pulling them close together under the umbrella.  It was a tight squeeze.  Ignis continued to look at Nyx, not hiding his thoughts so well.  He was wanting.  Nyx wanted it back.

They met into the kiss, neither making the first move.  Ignis’s freehand went to tangle into Nyx’s hair, stroking at braids and petting down to his nape.  They opened their mouths to each other.  They kissed until breaking apart.

Nyx was hugging Ignis, though, so they didn’t move more than their faces.  Ignis ran his hand over Nyx’s scruffy beard.  His expression was thoughtful, soft, still wanting but only more now instead of unchecked yearning.  Nyx watched Ignis with something akin to hope as his fingers traced patterns across Ignis’s shoulders.

Nyx closed his eyes for a long moment as he sucked in a stuttered breath.  Can’t, won’t, shouldn’t, never ran through his head.  Ignis’s next kiss only tasted like yes.

They made out in the rain, not sure where this was going and what they’d have to do to keep it.  But Nyx did have the presence of mind to run his tongue over Ignis’s teeth.  Just to check.

[lasagnabomb-blog]

Belargo the Coin Dragon

"Hey, shopkeep, what can I get for this? Found it on a recent venture in southern Duskain".

Kit faced a small roadside wagon set outside of Lupren in central Duskain. Drawing the short straw, he was sent out to run errands while the rest of the crew set up camp. Usually, they would stay at an inn when this close to town, but after being robbed of your gold and some of your supplies you learn to make do.

“Looks beat up, but the knife is still sharp. I'll give you six gold for it.”

The shopkeep was a stout man, short too. You could almost mistake him for a dwarf if he grew a beard. He stepped back from the counter and put away the knife. Kit looked around at the pines and straightened his coat. Winter was coming and it was coming fast, frost had been on the ground that morning.

“Aye, here you go. Six gold, as promised.”

In the shopkeep's hand. There were six coins, but there was also a tiny silver dragon clutching one of the coins. Kit tried to softly tug the coin away from the dragon, but to no avail as it growled and hissed at his hand.

“The dragon comes with the coin, sir.” The shopkeep gruffly spoke “Little guy never lets go of his coin, so he always goes with. He's traveled to about every shop in the town, and who knows where he was before that. Try and spend ‘im somewhere else so he gets to travel.”

“I… uhh…” Kit held out his hand. The dragon perked up and scampered onto his hand, up his arm, and perched on his shoulder.

“By the way, the lil guy responds to Belargo. Have a nice evening now.”

The shopkeep didn't give time for Kit to respond and closed the window to the cart. Dumbfounded, Kit decided it was best to spend some of the gold and get food for the crew.

After shopping for a while, Kit finally returned to camp with dried goat, dried fruits, and one gold. The camp had been set while he was gone, and his two companions were already sitting by the fire. On the left sat a black kobold named Arua, on the right sat a dwarf named Gurk. Both seemed to be laughing at some joke Arua had just finished, her jokes were known to be a bit raunchy and a favorite of Gurk's.

“Hey, Kit, we found a log for ya to sit on. Find anything good out there?” Gurk's voice rumbled deeply. “I can smell the meat, toss it ‘ere!”

“Fine, calm down Gurk, there's plenty for us tonight.” Kit, pulled out a piece before slinging the sack over to Gurk. “Got some fruits for the road as well.”

There was a moment of silence.

“We have one gold piece left” Kit said “though it uh… it comes with this little guy” Kit proceeded to reach into his jacket, and show off Belargo in the palm of his hand. “Merchant said the dragon comes with the coin, never leaves it either. Figured we can keep the little fella for now at least. His name is Belargo.”

Arua had already approached and convinced the dragon to her hand by the time Kit was done talking. “So, he's sorta like our little mascot now, huh?” Arua chirped. “ Who's a good wittle fella, huh?” as she pet the dragon with her finger.

“We should get to sleep soon. We have to catch up to Silvereye if we're going to claim that bounty.” Kit stated. “We've come close to losing the trail a few times, so we can't let him slip out of Lupren without us knowing.”

Belargo trilled happily as Arua rubbed his belly.

“Well, silver dragons are a sign of good luck.” Gurk said. “Maybe we'll catch Silvereye at the gate tomorrow before he gets the chance to slip!”

“Well, if we are gonna do that, it's best to turn in soon. Goodnight guys.” Kit yawned through the sentence.

The group had a peaceful night and rose early the next morning. After tearing down camp, the went into Lupren to try and spot Silvereye, the infamous murderer. She would leave a silver piece in the left eye of her victims, and was more than rich enough to pay off the law. The bounty was big, it would definitely make up for the money the group lost a while ago.

Kit was leaning in the gate of the town, watching over the street. The sun had barely risen, and the streets were near empty. Kit was having a hard time staying awake before his head flashed with pain and his vision went black.

When Kit came to, his hands were tied behind his back and his mouth was gagged. In a chair across the room sat a very large man with two other brutes standing beside him. One of them had a bloody bandage wrapped around his nose and cotton in his mouth.

“Ah, boys, our guests are finally awake.”

Kit looked around and saw Arua and Gurk both tied up. It looked like Gurk was hurt the most, he must've spotted the thugs before they got him.  

“Now, I have a question fellas.” The chair creaked as the man stood up “Why are you following miss Silvereye, eh? You couldn't be bounty hunters, could ya? I hear plenty in that profession die gruesome deaths.” The man towered over Kit now, blackjack in hand. “Some of ya even go through torture. So why are you followin’ the miss?

Kit spat at the man's boots. Before he had time to make a snide comment his head exploded in pain and his vision went blurry. Blood started dripping down his temple. Before he knew it, he was hauled up by his hair and pinned against the wall.

“Now, I asked you a question. I think it's best for you to answer.” His breath smelled like beer and onions.

Kit remained silent

“Fine, I see you won't talk If I hurt you. How about the little miss there? Skellen, grab her. Tie her up to the chair.”

Arua was hauled over to the chair. Her fighting back was pointless, she was much smaller than any of the thugs. After she was tied up, the leader let go of Kit and walked over to the chair.

Kit started struggling against the rope, trying to get free to save his friends.

“So, what's a little miss like you doing out here? It's easy to get hurt y'know.” The leader slammed his blackjack into her stomach. “I think it's best to admit to what you did, we might kill ya faster then.”The leader put a hand on Arua's shoulder and cocked his other hand back.”It's a shame sweetheart, you're pretty for a fucking lizard.” A small flash of fire hit the hand on Arua's shoulder. The leader roared in pain and reeled back, clutching the burn on his hand.

“FUCKING WITCH! SKELLEN, KILL HER!”

Kit had worked his bonds to the point he could slip a hand out. Skellen was standing over Arua, confused by the small dragon on her shoulder. Belargo had clambered his way up to Arua's shoulder from one of her jacket pockets. That gave Kit just enough time to tackle Skellen while he was confused. The third thug stumbled back, surprised by what was happening.

Kit took the knife from Skellen's sheath and cut his throat, then sprung back up to assess the situation.

Gurk was still tightly bound and Arua's chair had been knocked over, she was struggling with the rope. Stefan had cast aside his blackjack in favor of a shortsword. The third goon had drawn his sword as well and was getting ready to charge.

“So, you really do want to be tortured to death, huh?” The leader growled “I'm gonna put your head on a fucking pike in the middle of town!”

The leader rushed forward and thrusted his blade at Kit's chest. Kit turned aside and kicked at the ankles, causing the man to tumble. Before he could do anything else, Kit was pommeled by the other goon. Luckily, he missed Kit's head and bashed his shoulder instead, causing Kit to fall over in pain. The thug but his boot on Kit's back, pinning him to the floor.

The thug raised his blade, and readied to stab Kit through the neck.

Kit heard a loud thud and a crash, followed by a string of dwarven swears and a fist meeting flesh repeatedly. The foot was no longer on his back and Gurk was free of his bonds,  beating down the goon. Arua had also escaped hers, but hadn't gotten up yet.

“You think… that I'm just gonna go down that fucking easy?” The leader stood back up, and whirled his blade.

“I mean, I was sort've hoping so. I've had a rough week, and your fat ass made it worse. Sorry I have to take it out on you.” Kit threw the knife at the leader's head. It would've hit if the leader's reaction was any slower, he deflected the knife with his sword.

The leader charged, whirling his blade around and making it difficult to get much closer to him. Kit saw an opening, but the leader read his movements and slashed as his side while sidestepping away. The blade caught Kit on his upper arm, leaving a deep wound. Kit cried out in pain and clutched his arm, making a feeble attempt to staunch the flow. Having lost his balance from the blow, Kit crashed into the wall and fell back over.

“My name is Sellus Drihart, and I’ve never lost a fucking fight. I’m not gonna lose to some cut-rate bounty hunter.”

Sellus swung his sword at Kit’s head. Arua cried out, her lifelong friend was about to meet his demise and there was nothing she could to. She couldn’t make it in time. The sound of a blade cutting flesh and cracking bone echoed through the room. Arua screamed, and found the knife on the floor. Kit wasn’t dying in vain.

“... your blade isn’t as sharp as you think, Sellus… don’t you know it’s important to keep it sharpened after every fight?”

Kit sat there, blood pouring out of his right arm and his left hand, sword embedded in his palm. He seemed to barely be conscious. Sellus stood there, shocked. He then yanked the blade and readied for another swing.

Sellus had no time to swing though, Arua had already closed the distance and slashed his achilles tendon with the dropped knife. Sellus crumpled to the ground, unable to stand back up. Arua made quick work of Sellus, repeatedly stabbing him anywhere she could. After it was all said and done, Arua fell to her knees out of pure exhaustion. Kit had fallen unconscious, and Gurk had just finished off the last thug, with a few less teeth than before.

Silence rang through the room.

Gurk finally spoke. “ I guess silver dragons aren’t much luck after all…”

Both of them stared at Kit, he was basically their leader and what brought them together. Neither of them knew how to patch wounds like he had; especially his hand which was almost dangling off from the rest.

Belargo skittered over to Kit, and started lapping up the blood. Before Arua or Gurk could stop the dragon, the blood began turning silver in color, running up into his wounds. The wounds started shimmering, and then began closing. Scar tissue grew rapidly and stopped Kit’s bleeding. Belargo’s horns rapidly shrank in size until they were little nubs on his head, and then the dragon fell asleep.

Hours later, Kit woke up in an unfamiliar room. Arua and Gurk sat by his bedside. After a flurry of questions which were mainly answered with “I’m alive”, “I feel like shit”, and “I need water.”; Arua screamed something about Kit’s eyes. Kit didn’t really understand, his head started ringing. Stumbling over to the mirror, Kit noticed a few things immediately. His wounds were covered in a very rough scar tissue, it almost looked scaled. Each of those scars burned like fire when touched. Lastly, his eyes had taken a sterling silver color and resembled those of a dragon.

“Guys, What the fuck happened to me? Where are we?”

Gurk calmly explained that they were still in Lupren, in the Blitzed Imp Tavern. Then told Kit about Belargo and what happened after Kit had passed out.

“Little fella still hasn’t woken up.” Gurk explained “Fixed ya up and hasn’t moved a muscle since.”

Kit stumbled over to where Gurk and Arua had made a makeshift bed out of rags and a spare pillow. Belargo was nestled beneath the rags, with only his head sticking out.

Slowly, the dragon’s eyes opened. Kit’s eyes almost exactly matched Belargo’s. The two had been bonded by dragon magic in the attempt to save Kit. Nobody knew what this meant for them, but they were soon to find out. This was only the beginning of an adventure, the likes of which hadn’t been seen in centuries.

-END OF PART 1-

This was inspired by a writing prompt that was thrown my way! It had reached Tumblr fame before, but I figured I'd give it a shot too. Thank you of you've taken the time to read this, I'd love to know what you think! Have a good one!

[bxxpbxxprichie]

THIS! IS! NSFW!

Y’all it took me a few days to write this and its literally probably not any good but here it is

Original prompt from @ithinkthe4thkindisabuttthing

Richie Tozier was damn something. That’s what Stan Uris, his boyfriend, thought anyway. He had a strange way with words if you pushed past all the cussing and inappropriate comments. That’s why he agreed to trying something new in the bedroom. Richie had seemed all too excited about it, and while it sort of threw Stan off completely, he wasn’t impartial to the idea.

Introducing Bill Denbrough, one of their best friends, into their sex life wasn’t the worst idea. Both Stan and Richie were rather jealous and possessive, but Stan had to admit he’d always crushed on Bill, and now it was rather obvious Richie felt the same way. He wondered if this would be more than just a new, exciting sex strategy.

He supposed that didn’t matter, for now.

So, here he was, sitting a little awkwardly at the foot of Richie’s bed, the three of them talking quietly and setting boundaries.

“So we agree, then? If anyone wants out, all they have to say is ‘onion’, and then none of us will ever speak of it again.” Bill seemed the most level headed at this moment. Stan, himself, was freaking out a bit, heart thumping in his chest, while Richie was already rubbing himself against Stan’s side, as if trying to hurry things along.

“Yeah, everything sounds good to me.” Stan finally spoke, looking up into Bill’s eyes.

“Me too.” Richie almost whined.

Stan was doing well to ignore the boy.

“I’ll just sit back here until you guys get more comfortable.” Bill spoke, standing and scooting his chair a bit away from the bed.

Stan nodded, released a breath, and turned to say something to Richie.

However soft bitten lips were pressed against his own, and a hand lifted up to stroke his cheek. Stan couldn’t help but grin against his boyfriend's lips. Richie knew him too well. Knew he was overthinking the whole thing.

So, Stan did his best to push all thoughts away, his hands reaching up to tangle in dark locks as his tongue gently caressed Richie’s plump bottom lip. They continued this way for quite a while, kisses lazy yet calculated, skin brushing skin softly. It was a moment of reassurance between the two of them. Something they both needed.

Stan finally pulled from the kiss, his hands pushing up Richie’s shirt and lifting it over his head. For a moment, he’d completely forgotten Bill was there until he saw him shift out of the corner of his eye. He froze in his spot and turned to look at the male.

“Keep going.” Bill nodded, his fingers seeming to dig into his chin.

Stan nodded back, swallowed the lump in his throat, and let his hands glide down Richie’s sides. Their lips reconnected, and this time with much more fervor. Tongues tangled at a new pace, fingers curled against sides and stomachs were pressed tightly against each other.

Stan had now pushed Richie underneath him, the lankier males legs caged around his own hips. Their lips never left each other, even as Stan started grinding his erection against the lump in Richie’s jeans. Richie was whimpering into his mouth, a sound that was muffled largely by Stan’s lips.

“Stop kissing. Let me hear him.” Bill’s voice came.

This time Stan wasn’t as startled, and did as said, moving his head to his boyfriend's neck and nipping at the skin there. His hips didn’t stop their assault, Richie’s own rolling up to meet his. Richie was whining wantonly by this point, his head tossed back and his eyes closed.

Stan paused his movements, because at this point he was too hot. He pressed a kiss to a mark he left of Richie’s neck and scooted himself away. He shucked his shirt off and his hands went for his belt. In seconds Stan was kneeling on the bed in boxer-briefs, a bottle of lube in his hand. Richie was also struggling to get his jeans off, but got them across the room with the help of Stan.

“Toss me that.”

Stan tossed the bottle of lube over to Bill and was a bit surprised to see the other’s cock out and in hand. It only sent more heat to his own. Bill was getting off to them. The thought made him shudder as the bottle glided back across the room and landed on the bed.

“Not going to join us?” Richie asked, a slight pant to his voice as he leaned himself up on his elbows.

Bill shook his head, his hand gliding very slowly over his slicked up dick. “Not this time. I think I’ll just watch. Maybe give some direction.” His face was very serious, and Stan wondered what kind of directions they were going to get.

He swallowed thickly.

“Take off his boxers.” Bill directed at Stan, his head flicking in the direction of Richie.

Stan didn’t waste time. He pulled off his boyfriend’s boxers, watching with wonder as his cock sprung free. The boxers were on the floor, and it was then that Stan noticed he’d been clenching his jaw. His teeth were starting to ache. He released it, and turned to look at Bill.

“You fuck him, right? Let's make the little slut wait longer. Finger him.” Bill spoke, his voice holding all kinds of command.

Stan had to raise his eyebrows a bit. Never in a million years did he ever think he’d hear his best friend call his boyfriend a slut in a sexual manner. But he wasn’t against it. And apparently neither was Richie, who was now grabbing for Stan’s hands and whining once more.

Stan bit down on his tongue as he grabbed one of Richie’s arms and one of his legs. He pulled him to the edge of the bed, “Lift your knees, Rich.” His voice had been soft.

Richie lifted his knees, his toes hanging over the end of the bed. Stan pushed his legs apart a little more, giving Bill the best view of what was about to happen.

Stan lubed up a few fingers, more than used to just automatically pushing two into his lover - they had sex pretty much every day, most of the time more than once - when Bill spoke again.

“One at a time. Make him beg for it.”

Stan bit his lip, and nodded. He swirled his finger around Richie’s puckered hole, lubing it up a bit, before pressing one in with no resistance. Richie bucked his hips back, a low whine coming from his lips.

“Slow, Stan. Don’t give the slut what he wants right off the bat.”

Stan sucked in a breath, and pressed his free hand to Richie’s stomach, holding him in place. He found a slow, torturous pace for his boy, the single finger curling and looking for just the right spot. He knew he wouldn’t find it with only one, but it didn’t hurt to try.

Richie was wiggling beneath his other hand, and making quiet noises. Stan was sure Richie wouldn’t hold himself out for long.

And he was right.

“Please...please, Bill, can I have another finger?” His voice came out deeper than usual, gravelly.

“No.” Bill responded.

Stan smirked.

“Go a little faster for our boy, hm?” Bill told him.

Stan did as said, finding a new pace. It was faster, sure, but not much faster. He didn’t want to do too much at one time.

“Please.” Richie tried again, his back arching and hips wiggling once more.

Bill didn’t respond, and neither did Stan. This whole thing was Richie’s idea after all. Stan was going to play along with it. He was rather enjoying the orders. His own cock was hard and leaking against his leg, untouched.

“Please, please Stan. Please, Bill. It’s so slow..it’s too slow I need more, please, please, fuck-”

“Add another finger.” Bill’s commanding voice came again.

Stan wasted no time, sliding a second finger into his favorite boy and curling them.

This time he found his prostate easily.

Richie clenched around him, his back arched higher than before, and strangled moans fell from his lips.

“F..faster, please..” Richie sounded weak at this point, and as he reached for his cock Stan smacked his hand.

“None of that.” It felt like the first time Stan had spoken the whole time, his own voice husky and strained.

“Please, god, I f...fucking need it faster!” Richie’s was progressively getting louder with each press against his prostate.

Stan turned his head to look at Bill, who was red in the face and and panting softly. Bill nodded at him, signaling he could go faster.

Stan did so, pressing his fingers into his boyfriend at a faster pace. They stayed this way for what felt like ages, Richie moaning loudly and begging for more, and neither Bill nor Stan giving anymore.

When the words “Can I cum?” Slipped from Richie’s lips, Bill signaled for Stan to stop all together.

He did, slipping his fingers out of his boyfriend and leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“It’s too early for that, Richie. We’re just getting started.” Bill shifted in the chair, “Stan lay down. Richie’s gonna ride you.”

“Fuck yes.” Richie groaned, his eyes completely showing some sort of ‘finally’ in them.

Richie moved and Stan laid across the bed. Richie straddled his hips and slowly sunk down onto his boyfriend's cock, the both of them letting out low moans. Richie took a moment once he was fully on his boyfriend to just grind himself against Stan’s hips, both of them making noises of content.

Stan reached up and grabbed one of Richie’s hips, his other hand gliding up his chest.

“Slow.” Bill said.

Richie groaned.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Bill?” Richie had asked, but Bill didn’t respond.

Richie found his bearings and began a slow pace, his hands pressed to Stan’s chest as he lifted himself up and slowly glided back down.

“Damnit.” Richie cursed as he continued, “Fucking damnit. Shit..” He was cussing at Bill, but he couldn’t make a real coherent thought as his boyfriends cock filled him up and pressed into his prostate much better than any fingers could.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re doing so well.” Stan coo’d up at his boyfriend, his fingers pushing some sweat-slicked hair off of his forehead.

Richie didn’t respond, per say. A low whine left his lips as he leaned himself down and pressed his face into Stan’s neck. Stan slid his fingers through Richie’s curls as the boy continued to ride him slowly and whine against his skin. “You’re being so good for me and Bill, you know that? So good.” Stan’s other hand stroked down Richie’s back, before gripping his ass softly.

Richie was crying very softly against Stan’s neck, and Stan made him move to look at his face, puzzled. Richie never stopped his slow pace, but soft tears were sliding down his cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” Stan asked, brushing the tears away.

“I need to be fucked.” Richie blubbered.

Bill laughed from his chair, and Stan turned his head to look at him.

“Alright, Stanley. Flip him over and fuck him however hard you want.”

Stan didn’t wait for a second, finding strength as he pushed Richie onto his back. His arms slipped under the other’s back, and his hands hooked on his shoulders.

His pace felt faster than he’d ever been before, his hips driving hard and deep into his boyfriend as his hands pulled him down to meet him. Richie was crying out loudly, and Stan was grunting, his face pressed into his boyfriend's sweaty neck.

“Cum for me, Richie.”

Stan didn’t know when Bill had gotten up, but he was suddenly next to them on the bed and reaching between their two bodies. Bill’s hand grasped Richie’s length and that was all it took. Richie was letting out choked gasps and broken moans, his body clenching tightly around Stan’s cock. That’s all it took for him to spill over, and he filled his boyfriend up deliciously.

The three of them sat there for a few moments afterwards, panting in the silence. Stan looked over at Bill, and noticed the cum on his jeans. He snorted, before looking down at his boyfriend.

Richie looked blissful and completely out of this world, his chest heaving and face red.

“We’re so doing that again.” Richie told them.

[cyrelia-j]

[Fic] Deuces V: Trips (Garak/Bashir)

(Again apologies for weird characters, they disappear after "Keep Reading" is clicked)

This got a bit long but I couldn't leave our boys hanging. I'm also debating where I want to go with Ziyal as far as relationships (if any) so we'll see what happens there.

Previous Parts are here:

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: AU (no Dominion and some characters who died in the series are alive like Vedek Bareil) Garak and his surrogate daughter Ziyal find themselves on Deep Space Nine for a month on a stopover to Bajor. After a disastrous first date, Julian is determined to make amends and turns to Ziyal for advice.

“Good morning, Miss Ziyal. I’m so terribly sorry to bother you but I had hoped to speak with you about your father. Nothing bad I just… I was hoping I could… I don’t know talk to him. I know he’s been avoiding me and I’m sure that it’s something that I’ve done and he’s just being polite.” Ziyal looks up at the doctor standing in front of her and considers what he’s been saying. It’s true, of course. Her yad’ had hacked into the Station logs using the old Terok Nor codes and a lot of creativity for the sole purpose of planning his activity around Doctor Bashir’s shifts. He’d also ended up fielding a lot of questions from Odo in the security office and as a result found himself “volunteering” to assist with upgrading some of the security protocols to guard against similar incidents in the future. So in the end it worked out exactly as he had hoped anyway.

Ziyal found herself reminding him of that each time he would complain about the work involved and so far three days had passed by without him running into Doctor Bashir even once. Ziyal had listened, grimacing at his recount of the “torture” that was Doctor’s Bashir’s “unforgivably dull and clearly contrived company”, and Ziyal knows if there’s one thing that her yad’ abhors in a date it’s tedium. Worse than the, from the way he’d described it, Doctor Bashir could’ve slotted anyone into the space and had the exact same date; probably had, in fact. She hadn’t been terribly happy to hear that; her yad’ deserved far better than just some fetishist. But she’d thought the doctor had presented a much different picture when they met and there had to be more to it than that. She’s thankful that she may actually have an opportunity to find out.

Her yad’ had said that it wasn’t worth looking into any further but it wasn’t like she had promised to stay out of it, and perhaps if she can get to the bottom of the matter then it would help pull her yad’ out of his sour mood. Ziyal shifts the box of Delavian chocolates and the small bouquet of Bajoran lilacs. They’re both for Major Kira, her yad’ insisting that whether they parted on fair terms or not, a show of remorse was in order for instigating such a ridiculous incident. He’d also suggested she request Major Kira help train her combat deficits which made her sigh but acknowledge that it’s better not to be ill prepared. She only hopes that her gesture will be well received though Major Kira had said that everything was fine between them. “Ask Dukat, how “fine” it is when a Bajoran woman says “fine””,he had said and perhaps there was a bit of a tease at her as well.

Ziyal smiles at the doctor.

“I’d be happy to talk to you over breakfast, doctor. Maybe you can help me too as a matter of fact. I was hoping to find Major Kira so that I could give her this but it doesn’t look like my plan of wandering around the Promenade is working out too well. So I think we can probably help each other out.”

“Absolutely!” Doctor Bashir exclaims looking relieved. “And you know, I have it on good authority that those are some of Major Kira’s favorite flowers. Her mother was quite fond of them if I recall so you’re on good footing there.”

They fall into step to the Replimat, Ziyal not quite sure of how to begin exactly. Her yad’ is always on about diplomacy and tact unless something else is called for but for the life of her she’s always been rather plainspoken. Fortunately, Doctor Bashir seems content to talk more about the Major, filling the silence while Ziyal admits that their tour might have gotten a bit out of hand with Julian’s solemn assurance that Major Kira is a wonderful soul and if she says there’s nothing to apologize for then Ziyal has little to worry about. Though it’s been Ziyal’s experience learned from her yad’ that a little flattery and kindness can go a long way in opening doors or mending strain between acquaintances or friends so there’s always that.

At Doctor Bashir’s suggestion Ziyal opts for scones with jam- one of his favorites- and something called “bangers and mash”. It doesn’t sound particularly appetizing but the onion gravy is to die for good. Yad’ was right, Doctor Bashir has an exceptional taste for food. Well that’s something to build a bridge off of. Ziyal is glad for the heavy breakfast as well, not having realized how hungry she was for the time she’d already been wandering around the various shops. She’s also glad that Julian fills the silence telling her about his childhood traveling with his parents. He tells her about his stuffed bear and his aunt and his crazy relatives and she thinks it must be wonderful to have such a large extended family.

“Oh you say that now,” Doctor Bashir goes on laughing, “but that’s because you haven’t had to bail your cousin Paddy out of lockup more times than there are rings around Saturn. You know the last time he honest to god threw a dolly through a tram? Like my aunt Emmeline says it’s just harmless football hooliganism- that’s er like well, it’s rowdy behavior after one of the football matches… do they have team sports on Cardassia?” Julian is also quite easy to distract with his tangents and Ziyal really doesn’t understand how her yad’ could have had such a poor time with a lively man like him.

“No, I’m afraid not. Well not really, sometimes there are combat exhibitions and actually, the annual poetry competition can get pretty intense.” Perhaps not throwing a… dolly? A doll? Through a tram? A… she didn’t quite follow the translator on that but she can sort of imagine what he means. They might not be as exciting as mass riots but the year before everyone had watched with baited breath as the finalist Kaallen Pod recited a riotously subversive piece subtly linking Archon Mal to the disgraced Legate Khet. The trial that followed was quite a spectacle as well.

“Did you really treat yad’ like an “assembly line Glinn?”” She blurts out suddenly just not able to understand what could have possibly gone on. Julian blanches.

“Oh god… did he… is that what he said?” He looks absolutely mortified and she feels bad but that’s certainly not something her yad’ would lie about for no reason… at least not to her.

“Well ah… Well, yes, yes he did and I hope you understand but I’m very confused right now because I’m enjoying your company quite a bit. I know we’re not on a date of course but surely you didn’t behave much differently than now?”

She looks at him and thinks he slinks a bit further down into his chair looking off at something else before looking back to her. Oh dear. He had. He absolutely had. Was that some sort of strange human custom? Was there simply some cultural misunderstanding? Well no, her yad’ had said it was like the doctor had read some “how to” guide that could’ve been written by Gul Dukat himself but that would be far too unkind of a thing to say. She sees him picking at his scone radiating guilt. She’s not quite sure what else to say to that but he saves her the trouble. She watches Doctor Bashir take a deep breath and sigh.

“I’m not good at this,” he says at last and she finds that a bit hard to believe. According to her yad’, they take bets in the bar to see how quickly he can “I’m not having this discussion with you, you’re my daughter.” Julian sees her incredulous expression and rushes ahead with a wave of his hands. “Not… I mean… I mean I… I talk too much. I say too much. I put people off, I have a lot of trouble knowing what’s too much and you’ve no idea just how long it even took me to make friends here. I didn’t even realize I was getting on everyone’s nerves and you know I’m not good at talking to people like… like a date. I can’t do it so I didn’t, I mean I just… I just ended up working out the same thing like… like a formula with data and numbers and adjustments here and there so I can just... just you know, stick to what I know won’t get me slapped or laughed at and I know that sounds stupid and calculating and I look like some bloody awful bad date robot but I… I like your father and I really didn’t want to risk screwing anything up but it seems I’ve just gone and made an awful mess of things anyway.”

Julian sits back in the chair and Ziyal watches his head go back in dramatic defeat and she can’t help the small smile. He really is cute. Her yad’ really would like this man as he actually is. His sincerity is endearing. He’s passionate, he interesting. But how in the name of the Ancients to get him a second chance is the question?

“You know doctor,” she says with a bit of reproach in her voice. “I think yad’ would like you a lot if he got to see this side of you.”

“I know I’ve already blown it terribly,” he groans into the hands over his face and she nearly doesn’t hear him.

“You don’t think you’re overreacting?” she teases. He sits up and looks at her and then the flowers and chocolates. He smiles back a bit.

“Not any more than anyone else, I suppose.” Ziyal clears her throat at that. It’s a nice gesture. It’s appropriate. Alright so flowers or chocolates would have sufficed but there’s no law against manners as her yad’ would say.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She says playfully. “But as for yad’ well… I might be able to do something there…”

“I would be glad to let Major Kira know that you’d like to speak with her. I believe she’s free this afternoon and will probably be at the gym around 1500.”

“The gym?” Ziyal asks uncertainly, thinking back to that last encounter.

“What better place, right?” Julian asks, and somehow Ziyal thinks that awful incident has somehow circulated around the entire station. Guls, no wonder she was getting those stares and those salutes from some of the junior officers.

“Ah… right… so… so yad’ and I have been meeting for lunch here and it looks like I’ll be busy but I promise he’ll be here. I wouldn’t bother with flowers and chocolates. He likes those but I think your best bet would be to bring something interesting instead.”

“Interesting?” he repeats to her nod. He smiles to himself. “I know just the place.”

—

“No no, you don’t understand, Ziw, I’m sure that wasn’t some playful euphemism. I’m sure that I’m meant to pique his curiosity with something unique, notperverse.” Julian watches as once again the Bolian helpfully holds up an odd three pronged device with an ancient motor and something that looks like it utilizes some sort of outside power conduit. Ziw had let him know that three hundred years ago Cardassian ajan’yas were quite popular both on and off world amongst those looking for a little excitement. The Bolian, Ziw Tralar owns a darkened shop behind an eclectic curtain known only as “Forbin Project”. The place- which Julian has no idea how it keeps in business- is a strange assortment of old print books and antiquities that Ziw has gathered and traded from all manner of customers from the alpha quadrant and some he even claims from the Gamma quadrant and mirror universe. The mirror universe is Ziw’s clever name for Kirk’s other world that Julian’s had the unfortunate chance to visit.

But if there is one thing that can be said about the strange little shop- aside from the smell that Quark claims scares away his customers a few doors down and Ziw claims if anything draws them over to the bar- it’s the wide assortment of interesting things that he’s collected and tends to sell at obscenely low prices. This from Nog who had acquired a highly valuable Ferengi “courtesan novel” written by some famous writer who Nog said wrote such vivid descriptions of oomox that they’d been banned on three provinces on Ferenginar for over a century. That was really more than Julian ever needed to know about Nog’s tastes in literature but supposedly he’d traded the old text to his father to get out of a month of helping at the bar.

Julian had the afternoon free and, cognizant of the time had practically raced over upon raiding his few pithy stores of latinum, has been in the shop ever since while Ziw has been plying him with one sex toy after another.

“Look,” Julian says pushing the device back across the counter. “I don’t want to seem ungrateful. You’ve spent far more time with this than I could expect but I’m not…” He’s about to say he’s not just trying to get Garak into bed except that’s not entirely true. He absolutely is trying to get Garak into bed but he’s not trying to give that impression. Besides, from what little he’d gathered on their date- and God it really was precious little thanks to his stupid “script” that he’d barely gotten to know him at all- he really did want to get to know Garak better and see if they might not have chemistry elsewhere.

“I’ve got it!” Ziw interrupts his thoughts slamming a metal cylinder between them. Julian takes one look at it and is about to protest when Ziw’s hand goes up. Julian notes the “X-Ray” ring on one finger wondering as he always does if the thing really works. “Ah tut tut dirty mind. This is actually meant for your finger, Doctor Pervert. Actually it’s meant for two fingers. I’ll show you. It’s great. You’re trying to snag a guy. That’s your deal. Watch and learn and be amazed.” Ziw insert a blue finger into each side of the cylinder. Julian looks at it seeing the woven slats like some ancient basket weaving. And then he watches as Ziw tries to pull his fingers out to no avail. His eyebrows raise impressed.

“They’re stuck,” he observes.

“Not just stuck, see these are modified from some old Earth joke I read, guy that sold this to me explained it like this. So the old Earth jokes were easy. They released when you press in and loosen the weavings. Real basic, simple principle but some Vulcan somewhere out there had a sense of humor and made his own variation. Called it a “meditation cylinder” and see it’s not so simple.” Ziw pushes his fingers together and the cylinder still gets tighter. Julian’s mouth opens and he looks at Ziw, a smile starting to curve his mouth.

“And surely there’s a way to get out of it. I can’t imagine you’d have stuck your fingers in there if there wasn’t.” Ziw grins back with a nod and closes his eyes. Julian watches as he turns his fingers so they’re running up and down and he watches the trap slowly slide off the top finger. Then he turns his other hand down breathing slowly, deeply, and lets it drop back to the counter.

“Simple right? Just like a Vulcan, see it reads your calm. Thing goes off body tension and heat, don’t quite know how it works but any tension it feels in your muscles in, out, doesn’t matter. Only comes off when you’re perfectly relaxed and then it’ll drop off. No worries. Don’t know why they ever stopped using them on Vulcan with their students. Well maybe they never caught on.” He shrugs looking mischievous. Julian loves it. Garak won’t just find this interesting... he’ll have to agree to let Julian take him on a real proper date if he wants to know the trick to get out! “So tell me what you think it’s worth to you.” Ziw sighs deeply when Julian starts going for the latinum. “Come on, doctor, latinum? Right a man can’t live on trinkets alone but latinum is so dull.”

“I’m sorry, but you know I don’t have a whole lot of artifacts I’m willing to part with.”

“You telling me all that planetary exploration and you don’t have anything? All the “garbage” you always complain about your family shipping you?”

Julian thinks about it a moment, long and hard. It isn’t like he looks for things to stuff in his pockets during away missions... not like cousin Paddy at least. Which reminds him of one of the last weird little parcels his cousin had sent him. “Fell off the back of a freighter” he’d said and Julian knew better than to argue.

“I’ve got a case of bubblegum I suppose.” It wasn’t like he could chew it while he was working anyway; Nurse Jabara said his smacking lips made him sound like an ornery horse and Nurse Hortak tended to jump when the bubbles popped. Very unprofessional. Well, he supposed it was for a noble cause.

“The pink kind, right? The pop kind?”

“Right.”

“Good good. Never could get the hang of that stuff. Need another chance at it i think. Alright, doctor, you got yourself a deal.”

“Wonderful!” Julian stops. “Well it’s almost three already. Please tell me I can bring it by in the morning. If i miss my chance now...”

“Yeah, yeah,“ Ziw is already waving him off. “Not like I don’t know where you work, right? First thing, don’t forget, go get him get out.” Julian is about to snatch the trap when Ziw pauses him, fishing under the counter a moment. “Box, can’t give a guy a gift without a box. S’how civilizations fall I hear.” He puts it in a nearly perfectly sized little gift box with a green bow. “There you go, knock him dead, all that whatever...” Julian takes it gratefully and practically runs to the Replimat just hoping that he can fix this properly.

—

He’s a little late, but Garak is thankfully still there waiting on his daughter and easy to spot. Julian’s first thought is that he looks like a watermelon- a delectable watermelon that he’d like to sink his teeth into. Or sink teeth into him; he decides that would be perfect. Garak is wearing a dark green striped tunic and a dark pink, reddish vest over it. Of course he would look stylish. he’s a tailor, after all. Julian’s rather thankful they’re doing this in the Replimat. It’s easier here. He feels much more like himself here and well... well he could’n’t possibly mess this up worse so if Garak thinks his actual personality is a complete wreck he’ll be in the same spot he was in earlier anyway. Julian can see Garak looking around and almost nervously wipes his hands on his uniform. This was so much easier when there was a plan, when there was simple series of subroutines from A to B. This? This is terrifying. Maybe he should just ask him to give Cindy a kiss and see where that goes. Right. Brilliant idea, that.

“Garak!” Julian calls out tempted for a moment to just play dumb and pretend that he had no idea that Garak was avoiding him but that hardly seems productive. He steels himself, seeing Garak’s face snap to a grin that looks just as much a grimace of pain. God, he really screwed this up.

“Ah, Doctor Bashir! My apologies, we haven’t seen much of each other but I did want to thank you for a lovely evening and a delightful sampling of creative delicacies. You really must tell me what some of those recipes are or where you’d gotten them. But another time, I think. I’m meeting Ziyal here you see and though she’s running a touch late I expect her here shortly.”

“She’s ah... She’s not coming,” Julian says, a nervous hand behind his neck. “She and I may have had a bit of a chat earlier and… um… May I... may I sit down a moment? I promise I won’t stay long though I completely understand if you tell me to get lost I’d just... I’d just like a moment of your time.”

Garak looks like he really is considering the first option but he motions for Julian to take a seat.

“Right, thank you. Thank you so much,” Julian breathes out in relief. At least that’s one part down. “I wanted to apologize for the other night.”

“Apologize?” Garak says in surprise; if Julian didn’t know otherwise he really would believe him. “There’s nothing to apologize for, doctor. You were gracious to show me a delightful evening and again I only regret that I had to leave early.”

“S’pose it was better than you faking a heart attack,” Julian remarks dryly.

“Why doctor! Do you really think I would engineer such a deception?”

“No, you’re much too clever for such an obvious rouse considering I’m CMO of the station but... but what I’m trying to say is that I’d really like a chance to make it up to you. A real chance I mean to ah... to show you a proper date... properly... without the ah...”

“Excruciating flow chart seduction?” Well ouch. Julian’s pretty sure he doesn’t actually wince.

“Yes,” he agrees. “That.”

“You’ll forgive me, doctor, but I really don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I have a lot of work to do with Odo and-”

“Ah but ah.. .!” Julian interrupts presenting the box. “That’s why I er... I brought you something to sweeten the pot,” he says sliding the box over with a nervous smile. Garak does look genuinely surprised this time and Julian really likes that look on his face. “I may have run into your daughter earlier this morning and she said that you liked interesting things, so when I saw this in Ziw’s shop. Oh! Ziw Tralar is the Bolian who owns “Fornby Project” which is a delightful shop that I well anyway I saw that and I thought you’d like it.”

Garak has picked up the woven metal cylinder turning it over in his hand.

“I must admit I’m not quite sure what it is. Is this a human... device?” Garak asks, rubbing his thumb over the weave.

“It’s a meditation cylinder,” Julian explains with a big smile. “Vulcan, in fact. You see you insert both your index fingers at either end up to the knuckles and it... helps you relax based of your energies.” Not entirely a lie. Julian’s leg jitters a bit under the table. “Would you like to... give it a try?” he suggests hopefully. Garak looks at him a moment, some unreadable expression, but he looks almost amused as he does as Julian suggests. “Right, just like that,” he says nodding encouragement.

“Now that’s fascinating!” Garak remarks as he tries to pull his fingers out but can’t. He looks at Julian with that smirk and a speculative tilt of his head. He tries a few more times to free his fingers but can’t.

“There’s a trick to it of course,” Julian supplies, trying to keep his legs still. He really can’t. He’s far too excited.

“Of course. I suppose you’ll be willing to tell me... for a price?” Garak asks coyly and Julian nearly swallows his tongue at that look. Alright, so he’s probably painfully transparent but he’s already nodding like an idiot.

“Yes I’m... guess it was pretty obvious but well, I guess I just wanted to ensure that you would say yes.” Well, if he says no Julian will still tell him how to get it off. He’ll just be absolutely crushed when he does.

“Yes?”

“To another date.” Julian licks his lips nervously. Garak’s hands have gone still and he’s looking at the device calmly. He’s quiet a moment and Julian is about to cave and just tell him but then Garak finally continues.

“Alright doctor, but this time we’ll do this on my terms.” He looks up at Garak and there’s an expression there that nearly stops his heart. God it’s piercing. “After all, I think it’s safe to say that you’ve been somewhat thoughtless and... naughty. Wouldn’t you?”

“Yes... oh... oh absolutely,” Julian answers, the drop in Garak’s pitch melting him.

“Good then,” Garak agrees standing up.

“Wait, but don’t you need to-” Julian’s eyes nearly pop out of his head when he sees the device clatter to the table all of a sudden, Garak pocketing it with the most sinfully smug grin.

“Twenty one hundred hours, my dear boy,” Garak practically purrs as he turns to leave, Julian still in shock, mouth open like he’s trying to catch flies, his aunt would say. “Oh and doctor?”

“Yes?!” Julian coughs. That was far too loud. “Er... yes?”

“Don’t mask your scent, doctor, he says with a subtle scent of the air. “I’m rather fond of it.”

Julian is certain if he nods any harder his head is going to pop clear off. So help him he’s not screwing up his second chance!

(Part 6 is now up HERE)

[stephicness]

Final Fantasy XV Favorites :: Tag Game

THIS IS ANCIENT AND I THOUGHT I LOST THIS WHEN I WAS WORKING ON IT. BUT I FOUND IT AGAIN, SO LET ME FINISH IT!

I was tagged by @chocobro-hijinks, @julezrulezzz​, and @ffxvwrites​. Thanks for the tag, my friends!

Favorite Chocobro

Maaaaan, you’re asking me such a hard question off the bat? How come you’re doing this to me? Well, I think I can give you a different answer for different reasons.

Gameplay-wise in terms of combat mechanics, Ignis is by far my favorite to have played with. His combat was just so fluid, even in comparison to Noctis’s fluid armiger system he had going for him. And the incorporation with the elemental spelldaggers? That was super dope!

Relation-wise, I find myself being drawn to Noctis compared to the others in our group of protagonists. The idea of duty coming before oneself and the isolation leading to such a personality (and really sad sense of underlaying depression too), he’s a really relatable character because he’s got such realistic feelings behind it all.

Favorite Guest Party Member (including Ravus and Libertus from DLC)

PSSH. If any of you follow my blog, you’d probably know right off that bat that it’d be Ravus Nox Fleuret. Not because of my personal bias and obsession with High Commander Asshole over here, but because out of all of the other fighting styles, he was by-far the most in-sync with Ignis when he was featured in Episode Ignis as the companion. Not to mention his kit for combat is really cool! Lightning damage, high agility, and a devastating AOE attack? Oooh man, what a badass!

And he helps Iggy kick Onion Boy’s butt. c,: I think that’s really sweet of him.

Favorite Minor Character(s)

Why, Ravus again, of course! I feel like out of all of the characters -- sans the main four -- Ravus has by far the most interesting tale. At least, one that was actually got legitimate context on. It’s also really amusing, considering that Ravus, I think, got the most content add-ons compared to any other minor character in the game. He got Verse 2, he got Episode Ignis, he gets a facial model in Comrades. And he faced more crisis points in his story, which ultimately makes him one of the most well-rounded characters in the series. I adore him~

Favorite Villain

Oh, Ardyn for sure. It’s kinda weird to ask that because alot of the others characters in the story, I feel, were not really villains. Okay, maybe Verstael and Glauca were, but Ardyn seems to weed his way into their stories, and I think he’s what ultimately made these characters so evil to begin with. I mean, perhaps you could even argue that Verstael isn’t too bad either. He was once a really well-known and well-respected general and researching, and it wasn’t until Ardyn weaseled in that Verstael was twisted with a need for power. Heck, I think the Wiki even said that Verstael didn’t want to use humans for such a horrible project, but Ardyn convinced him otherwise.

Ardyn’s a monster. But the fact that he did such a good job at being a monster gives him a thumbs up from me in the villain book.

Favorite Kingsglaive Character

Hm... Not gonna lie, but I never really got too heavily invested in Kingsglaive -- it’s why I sometimes stay clear of writing much on it because I never found the characters to be too appealing, as they didn’t get much background or a chance to really grow on screen -- sans for Nyx, since he’s our protagonist.

I did really like Crowe alot though. She deserved better.

Favorite Astral/Divine Being

Probably Ramuh. Every time he appears, I have to shout ‘IT’S GRANDPA!’ He’s the best grandpa. c,:

Though I also really do like Bahamut alot -- even if he is kind of a dick. There was a reason why I threw in that Dragon Daddy Bahamut card to FFXV CAH, after all. ;D

Favorite Character Overall

I really like Ravus. Like, alot. So much that it’s probably unhealthy. Please call for a doctor. 

Favorite Weapon

I’m a warpstriking whore, so I always have the Ragnarok sword equip whenever I play Noctis. Sometimes I forget that I could just attack and I end up warpstriking so much that I fall into Statis and go ‘WHY CAN’T I ATTACK?’ You have other moves, Steph. Use them. >:I

Favorite Location

I really like Lestallum alot for some reason. It’s a humble city, not too big, not too small, busy enough to always have something going down. I find myself in Lestallum more than anywhere else -- sans Altissia, but that’s because I need that x3 Leville there. v.v

Favorite Quest/Questline/Hunt

I really enjoyed that Legendary weapon questline that you get post-game. Forgot the name of it entirely, but those bossfights were super fun to take on! Though the last one was a bit too easy because I got pissed off and one-shot it with the Ring of Lucii. THOSE LASERS WERE JUST SO FRUSTRATING. But then again, it was my fault for trying to kill a level 99 enemy at level 60.

The Dread Behemoth timed hunt was pretty fun to do too! Fought him before the ring was buffed, and so it took me a solid hour or two to wail on him. Ran out of potions, ran out of teammates, but for some reason, Gladio was still standing enough to help keep me alive? Now that’s a good shield!

Favorite Boss

In terms of the story, I thought the Ravus boss battle was the most fun -- especially when I was screaming/crying the entire time. ‘What the fuck, Ravus?!’ ‘Ardyn, what did you do?!’ ‘DON’T GETSUGA TENSHO ME, YOU BASTARD.’ Yup, that was a fun fight. c,:

Favorite Monster/Monster Family/etc

I think my favorite monster... Is probably that Dread Behemoth again. In terms of boss-fights, that is. It’s one of the more challenging ones I’ve had, but it still has a nice little place in my heart~ In terms of design though, I really like the Chadarnook. So pretty, and the rotting wood motifs to highlight that ‘nature is beautiful, woman is beautiful, but so is death’ vibe? Aaaye~ Now that’s an example of a great design!

Favorite Songs

Somnus is probably my favorite track out of the soundtrack. Like, you know how each FF game has that signature sound that really just gets your eyes welling up for one reason or another? For me, Somnus really does that for me whenever I listen to it. Similar to To Zanarkand or Aerith’s Theme, the moment you hear those first notes it just gets you so immersed in the emotion all over again.

Favorite Boss Theme

Hm... I’m really torn... Perhaps in terms of legitimate boss theme, it’s Ravus Aeterna for sure. I mean, the composition of this song just is so chilling and reflects just how horrible the fight is the entire time, the dread and the torture that is to basically suffer and then be forced to put down a twisted and corrupted man who didn’t deserve such a fate. That, and when the song is basically called Eternal Ravus, it just makes you even more sad because RAVUS WAS PULLED BACK TO THIS SHIT. GIVE HIM A BREAK, PLEASE!

Veiled in Black is also a really nice battle song too, though it’s not for bosses really. c:

Favorite Non-Episode DLC/Update/Event

Dude, the Character Swap Update is, like, the sexiest thing they’ve done in the game, not gonna lie. Like, I didn’t think too much of it at first, but then I played as Prompto taking on the Grove dungeon, and I was screaming. It’s so cool and so useful...! Just wish you can legit run around as a different boy instead of just swapping back to Noctis.

Favorite Episode DLC

I feel like it’s almost unfair to compare. Episode Ignis is by far one of the best DLCs in my eyes -- especially when they took so much attention and care into that DLC over the others, I feel. That, and it made the most sense in the story plot, I feel, than the other DLCs.

That and, you know, Ravus.

Other Favorites of Note: 

Everything.

Except for Chapter 9.

Fuck Chapter 9.

[sammyhale]

J2 MinnCon 2017 Main Panel

Jared to first time convention goers: “So, Supernatural is a show about two brothers. Sam and Dean-” 

He talks about how Jensen and he have been able to play pretend on the show for 13 years and not sure how many people can say they’ve done the same. 

Jared thanks the fans for letting him bring Sam to life. “I love Sam Winchester. I dig him. He’s kind of a nice dude.”

Jared: How many people here are Minnesota natives? We’re surrounded! Let’s run! They’re too cold to chase us! lol 

Jared’s back hurts. Jensen: Is your back affecting your brain? Jared: Yes! My back brain. 

Salmon Dean jokes. 

Jared finds out a fan often has their last name mispronounced. Jared teases: Oh, boo hoo! How do you think I feel?

The weirdest pronunciation of Jensen’s last name is Ake-less. People have pronounced Jared’s last name as Padel-ski. 

Jensen tells a story of a news guy who just gave up trying to pronounce Jared’s name lol. 

Jared: Chad Michael Murray, who I met 17 years ago on GG. Y’all weren’t born yet. Jensen: I was born, but never heard of it. 

Chad gave Jared the nickname Padawhacker lol.

Jared jokes: Don’t watch GG, you’ll see what a real man Dean can be. Jensen: I’m not even sure there was men on the show. 

Jensen: If the script says that we eat pizza next week, the prop person asks us in advance for our order. 

Jensen hates pickles. Doesn’t like condiments either. He knows when a pickle has been picked off. “Don’t play that with me, I know there was a pickle here.”

Jensen had to film a hot dog scene recently but didn’t want to eat lots of onions, so he had radishes chopped up to look like onions. Jared’s favorite part was food hanging from Jensen’s lip while talking and Alex couldn’t hold it together lol.

If Jensen could change something about Dean he would have them not make him eat as much!

Jared appreciates the differences between him and Sam, like some things that might annoy him.  

Jensen: “I wish we used more gadgets. There are so many things in the back of the Impala that we never use. Obviously the big ticket item, the grenade launcher, finally got used. Next on the list is the grappling hook!”

Jensen wants Dean climbing up with a grappling hook and for Sam to be like, the door’s open...

Jared: There have been almost a dozen Supernatural episodes named after Led Zeppelin songs (makes crowd name them). 

Jensen: I know I have all of Led Zeppelin’s vinyls at home. Jared: Because he’s old! 

There’s a sign in the crowd that is supposed to say “We love Sam and Dean” but the N fell off so it says “We love Sam and Dea” - Jared: I can see this sign in the audience that says...We love Sam and the Drug Enforcement Agency!” lol 

Fan asks: If you could relive any day, which day would you relive and why? Fans shout out: Tuesday!

Jensen about his twins being born: My wife is way cooler than me, she was cool as a cucumber. And on a lot of drugs!

During the birth, Arrow didn’t want to turn over. Jensen: She’s stubborn like her mother. They were C-section babies. 

Jensen tells the story about how Jared knows him so well that he told him to check to make sure he had his passport when Danneel was about to go into labor with the twins and Jensen really had forgotten it. Jensen to Jared: I don’t know how you knew. 

When they made it back to Austin, Jensen’s friend in the police department drove him through 7 stoplights so that he could make it in time for the twins being born. 

Jared calls Gen and Danneel badasses :) 

The day Jared wants to relive the most hasn’t happened yet. It’ll be the last day of filming Supernatural. Jared: I know after we film the last episode I’ll want to do it all again. 

Jared on the last day of filming SPN: It’ll be us and hopefully Collins is there and whoever else, and it’s going to go by so fast. 

Jared: The last day of filming is going to be hard and the next day will be sad but hopefully that’s many years from now. 

Jared: “If Sam and Dean knew everything that would happen to them over 13 years, would they do it all over again? Yes.” 

Jensen about fans who have seen every episode twice: “You complete me.”

Jared: That’s badass. Jensen: You’re badass.

Boys talking about when they knew they’d be good friends and brothers.

Jensen knew instantly that he and Jared would be friends. The first and only time they fought, he realized it would be a solid relationship. They got into a fight once in the early days of SPN and then sat down and said, “That can’t happen again” and it never did <3

Jared: The struggles are the moments in a relationship when you figure out whether it’s worth it to carry on or not. When something is tested is when you’ll see if it’s worth it. 

Jared also knew that they had a lasting friendship the first time they got jumped. 

Jared: “We got jumped and Ackles came back to make sure his boy was alright.” 

The moment where Dean stuffed candies into his pocket was unscripted, Jensen just wanted candy. 

Jared: The writers, directors, crew, etc, know that we really understand our characters, we’re not just trying to look cool. 

Jensen about being allowed to change scripts. “There is a trust there, and we haven’t broken it, and we wouldn’t break it.” One of Jensen’s favorite parts of the show is the collaboration. 

Boys say the best idea wins. Not a lot of room on the set for ego. 

On anxiety and depression - Jared: Sometimes love and affection and support isn’t enough. You need someone unbiased. I proudly have therapy twice a week. 

Jared: I had a day when I wasn’t sure I’d see the sun rise again. But I haven’t had a day where I feel like I’m tortured in years. 

Jared on how to deal with depression and anxiety: Seek professional help, period. “I don’t have bad days anymore. Haven’t in years. Thanks for y’all’s support. Go get professional help. It works. 

Jensen: I took a drama class in high school because I had to take an arts elective and didn’t want to sing and couldn’t draw.

Jared: I still have a lot of life to live. Though I do feel old and I have grey hair.

Jared about acting: If it sucks and you want to walk away, then walk away. But if it sucks and you feel like it’s worth it, keep going. 

Jared’s oldest son, Tom, just started school this week. Jared: I remember my first day of kindergarten, and I wanted to talk to my son on his, too, so I FaceTimed him. Jared set his alarm for 4:30AM so he could. 

Fan: Is there any bad guy or monster you’d like to face off against again? Jared: Ruby!

Jared, imitating his kids watching SPN in the future: “Daddy, why did Uncle Jensen kill Mom?”

Jensen would like to see Death back on SPN.

Jared: The best thing I learned to do in therapy, and am still learning, is to see everything for what it is.

Jared: Stop using the word mistake. You didn’t make a mistake you made a decision. Don’t let perfect be the enemy of great. Jared says that Jensen helps him with his perfectionism.

Jared says that whenever he feels negative about things Jensen lifts him up. 

Jared mentioned that he struggles feeling good in his body and will tell Jensen that he feels fat and Jensen will tell him that he looks good.

Jensen: If you make a mistake you’re not losing. You’re either winning or learning. 

Fan has a question for Jared. Jared pushes Jensen away. Jared: Every time I push Jensen, take a shot! 

It took Jared two years to write his 40 page chapter for FDEWB. He finds writing very anxiety inducing. 

Jared: The Padaleckis and the Ackles went to Turks and Caicos together a couple years back. Jared was writing the chapter during that vacation. Jensen was like: You know we are on vacation, right?

Jensen: He kept writing his chapter, so I walked away. Jared: In a little Speedo. And I was like, are those a roll of certs in your front center pocket? The boys are cracking up. Jensen: I have all sorts of sweet treats in my pocket. 

Jared says if he writes more, he might just put it on Gen’s blog. He mentioned the blog as a way to continue writing. 

Jared: “There’s a certain freedom that I feel when they call action. I’m free to be whoever I am.”

Jensen about getting through hard times: I go to family, friends, and if that doesn’t work I go to the gun range. 

Jensen says he tries to be very practical about his expectations, where he is, where he wants to be, and sometimes he’ll make a list. 

Jared: Pain is mandatory. Suffering is optional. Pain happens. Get through the pain and be the badass rockstar you are. 

Random tweets after the panel: some penis jokes lol and lots of touching between the boys. 

Info via: Fangasm, Kelsi, Rose, Zee, Sil’s livetweet list

[spartanguard]

everyone loves Granny

my dearest darlingest @kat2609, my favorite and my best: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! I hope you get showered with love and treats today and that this is just one contribution to an overall amazing day because you deserve all the best things! here’s a bit of Granny love to (hopefully) get your day going! I LOVE YOUUUUUUU!!!

Another day, another dollar, right? At least, that was what Granny told herself as she shuffled into the back of the diner, still yawning. Not that the money really mattered in Storybrooke, but at the very least, she had her reputation to uphold. That, and if she didn't feed everyone, who would?

Blearily, she flipped on the lights and headed through the kitchen to the main dining area to flip on the coffee makers, giving her a few minutes to catch a bit more rest. On days like these, she really missed having Ruby around—today especially—but certainly didn't begrudge her granddaughter a shot at True Love.

Nevertheless, she sighed heavily while the coffee percolated and the pleasing aroma began to fill the air. It did perk her up a little, and that's when she noticed something on the counter that certainly hadn't been there the night before.

At first, she thought someone came in and used one of her mugs. But this one was different; the handle of it was shaped like a crossbow and the cup had arrows all over it. And tucked inside was a note.

Written in chicken scratch that could only belong to a teenage boy,

Dear Granny—To the most badass crossbow wielder in the world. Have a fantastic day! —Henry

She paused for a moment—he didn't know, did he? How could he, though, she reminded herself. Plus, it was Henry—he was a thoughtful boy, so it wouldn't be out of the ordinary for him to drop off random gifts. Though she might have to say something to his mothers about B&E. Maybe he was spending too much time with Hook.

Regardless, she took another few minutes to enjoy a fresh cup of coffee in her new mug before getting a head start on cooking for the morning.

Barely a half hour later, she was in the middle of frying bacon when she smelled something else coming from the dining room. Now what was going on?

Whoever had snuck in must have had magic on their side, because she would have heard the door open and close. And given the fact that she could already tell there were bear claws in that box from the bakery, she had a pretty good idea which witch it was.

Treat yo self, Granny! love, Emma was scrawled across the top. Two very fresh pastries were inside. As she bit into one and took the other to the back for safekeeping, she decided that maybe it wasn't the pirate who was influencing Henry...and began to wonder what was really afoot.

She knew for sure that something was up when Leroy arrived with a smile on his face, asking how she was, praising her food, and wishing her a wonderful day. When Grumpy is anything but, there's something suspicious going on.

Actually, everyone was being really nice. Not that most of them weren't usually, but it was weird to see it even from those she didn't talk to often.  Part of her was tempted to torture it out of Happy, whatever was happening, but she couldn't complain when even Regina praised her lasagna (finally).

Toward the end of lunch rush, the prince came in bearing a beautiful bouquet of flowers. She assumed he was on his way home, but he slid them across the counter to her.

"What's this?" she asked, eyeing the arrangement suspiciously.

"Uh, well, I was walking past Game of Thorns and saw them and...thought you needed them," he stammered, scratching the back of his head and looking down the whole time.

She wasn't buying it. "Charming, I've known you long enough to know when you're full of it. Level with me. What's going on?"

He sighed. "I...may have made some not-so-nice comments about this place in the past." Damn right he had; she hadn't forgotten about the scrap heap incident. "Consider these an apology."

She squinted at him; he wasn't lying. So she took a sniff, and they were quite nice. "Apology accepted."

He breathed a sigh of relief; she was tickled to see he'd been scared, but he'd fought alongside her—and it was good to see he remembered that.

"And...thank you, Granny. I don't know where most of us would be without you," he continued sincerely.

Somone must have been chopping onions in the back then. Quickly, she waved him off, blurting out a watery "It's been my pleasure," and bustled off to put the flowers in a place of prominence near the bar.

Lunch rush passed by without issue, and then the customers trickled out until the diner was surprisingly empty come late afternoon. Usually, that was when dinner would slowly start, but everyone seemed to be walking past. She even checked that the "OPEN" sign hadn't burned out, but it was still lit. Odd.

She took advantage of the lull to clean some spots she couldn't typically get to, and maybe put one of her favorite songs on the jukebox while she cleaned its glass. The final notes of the song played as she finished dusting the top of it (and may have been shaking her hips), and that's when she heard the bell above the door jingle.

She came back to the dining room to see Hook making himself quite at home behind the counter, filling two glasses with a bottle of rum far mor expensive than anything she kept stocked.

He looked up when she approached. "Ah, Lady Lucas. Just the lass I was looking for."

She gave him a sidelong glance. "What's your game, pirate?"

"Is one not allowed to treat a dear friend to a drink on her birthday?"

So they did know. As she sat down on a stool, he slid a glass across to her. "How did you all find out?" she asked quietly. It wasn't something she chose to broadcast, not because she didn't like celebrating, but more because she had never really been able to. Even once things calmed down here, with Ruby gone, there was no one to really celebrate with, until recently, apparently.

Hook explained, "You've gone to such great lengths to look after all of us, to the point that everyone calls you Granny despite you only actually having one grandchild. We just thought it was time that we show our appreciation, and on what better day than the day of your birth?" Then he lifted his glass in a toast.

She couldn't help it: she was blushing. She clinked her glass against his and savored the aged, spiced rum, but as sweet as it was, it was no rival to the warm feeling in her heart at hearing that so many people actually did care. For all her sass, she found herself speechless.

"Now, my dear, everyone has decided you need the night off, so close shop, head home, and treat yourself. Aye?"

She smiled. "Aye-aye, Captain; I think I can manage that."

"Fantastic." He leaned over the counter and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Happy Birthday, milady." He gave her a nod and then walked toward the exit, winking as he headed through the door to leave. But he held the door open one extra second as a bird flew in—with a note in its clutch.

It had been years since she'd gotten a message in a pre-analog format. She thought at first it was from Snow—that had been her preferred method of communication for so long—but the handwriting was even more familiar than that.

Granny—

I'm so sorry I'm not there to celebrate your special day, but I wanted to let you know how much I love and miss you. I promise to visit as soon as we can, but until then: sending all my (our) love through the realms!

Hugs and kisses,

Ruby (and Dorothy)

Oh, that girl. Worlds away and still able to make her grandmother cry. Even if it had just been that note, the day would have been perfect. But she eyed the rum still on the counter, and had one more idea.

Quickly, she did as she'd been told and locked up, made sure everything was shut off in the kitchen, and headed home into the brisk night air.

One last surprise was waiting for her: Marco was at home, lighting a few candles on the table, where it appeared he'd made a home-cooked feast.

"Happy birthday, my love," he greeted her with a kiss.

"Thank you, darling," she said eventually. Then, holding the rum up with a wink, added, "Let's have some fun tonight."

[scaplivingtogether]

Seven Crimes and Punishments- Living Together: Widows in the Basement

Chapter 10

Widows in the Basement

Back in the box, it has been an hour since the sinners returned to the box, Allen has chosen to return to Sickle with Behemo to explain his reasons for going to Yingmu without the sun god's consent. It was a quarter till noon. Nemesis was in the kitchen opening two large loafs of bread and starting spreading mayonnaise on them with a butter knife, then taking out the mustard, cheese, turkey, lettuce, tomato, and onion from the fridge, she seems to be making hero sandwiches for the sinners, just then Margarita returns from her gardening  duties from the backyard, covered in dirt and bringing with her is a basket full of spring onions.

"Hey! This ain't a barn, woman!" Nemesis snapped at the Marchioness.

"Sorry, I just got done tending to my leeks."

"Well no need tracking dirt everywhere, I'm making you guys lunch here."

"Oh good!" She sat down by the table and began looking at the ring she was given by Jun, completely unaware that it's an engagement ring. "It's a very pretty ring."

"And expensive, considering how my Dad was groveling over it." Nemesis sneered as she cracked open a can of Pepsi and took a gulp from it.

"I thought you swore off that beverage after seeing Gallerian's rump."

"Meh, I've seen more disturbing things compared to Dad's disgusting fat ass." She applies mustard on the bread loafs.

"I HEARD THAT, HUSSY!" Gallerian yelled in the other room.

"NO ONE'S EVEN TALKING TO YOU!...Where was I? Oh yeah, you want any potato salad?"

"No thank you, a sandwich and vegetable juice would do."

"Ok." She continued making the sandwich.

In the Living room

Kayo was napping with a pair of scissors close to her while covered in fabrics she brought home from Yingmu, Gallerian was showering himself in the kingdom's gold, Sateriasis was fresh from his second shower after having to make love to three crossdressers, and Riliane was playing chess with the said Duke, so far it's a tie, so and so that they have to get one of their kings in order to win the game.

"Move your King over here." Riliane said.

"I know what your doing, Brat, and your despicable for trying." Sateriasis said coldly.

"Said the guy who defiled thousands of women 24/7." Gallerian snidded.

"Your no better than me considering you defiled Nemesis's mother." The Duke joked before getting hit in the head by a hand sized ruby. "OW," he exclaimed knocking over the chess pieces.

"DON'T EVER SPEAK OF THAT INCIDENT AGAIN!" He spat at Sateriasis, which prompted Kayo to wake up. "Sorry Kayo."

"It's fine Judge, *yawn* I didn't mean to fall asleep." She stretched.

"No need to hit me though." Sateriasis began picking up the chess pieces, putting them back into their places.

"Hey! My Knight was a B6!" Riliane exclaimed.

"No it was a E2."

"B6!"

"E2!"

"B6!" The two went back and forth while pulling on the knight until Sateriasis snapped and flipped the game board over, startling the other sinners.

"THERE! YOU SEE THAT!? YOU SEE THAT, RILIANE!? NOW YOUR KNIGHT IS A BOOKCASE 5!"

"Now look who's calling who a brat." Riliane snidded at the Duke.

"Yeah well look who still comes out a winner? Me." He stood on top of the coffee table and  started swaying his hips left and right with his arms up. "Sateriasis wins again! Woop! Woop!"

"I'm gonna give you to the count of ten to stop doing that before I bust your ankle on this table." Riliane threatened with a dark tone in her voice.

"Hey hey there's no need to talk to him that way." Banica said as she came down the stairs with damp hair, finally clean from the grease and wood, she's wearing a red t-shirt and grey jean shorts.

"What's with the modern attire? Or is that body paint?" Riliane asked.

"My dress is currently in the wash because of the grease, so Nemesis's clothes is all I can wear until it's clean, and it fits me just right." Banica said as she ruffles her brown hair with a towel.

"Is Nemesis ok with that?" Kayo asked while rubbing her eyes.

"Yeah. I asked." She then threw the towel at Sateriasis. "So what's going on with you guys?"

"This pervert is acting like a big baby while the judicial play boy is throwing gems at him."

"Shut up Riliane." Gallerian said as he curled up into a ball, puffing his cheeks.

"LUNCH IS SERVED! COME AND GET IT!" Nemesis yelled at them from the kitchen while ringing a small bell that could be used for a servant.

"We're comiiiiing!" Riliane called, the sinners walked into the kitchen and soon enough they're at the table, Kayo seemed to be rubbing her eyes a little.

"Did you take a nap, Kayo?"

"Only a little bit, I got exhausted after tailoring with Yingmu's fabrics, you guys are gonna love the fruit of my labor." Kayo said sluggishly.

"Cool. Here's your sandwich, Ass-hat." Nemesis shoves the sub to her father, which he takes from her and proceeds eating it, only for him to gag a little.

"Was that tomato? You know that I hate tomatoes." He took out the half bitten tomato and gives it to Banica, who gladly ate it. Nemesis just rolled her eyes at him.

"So these are sandwiches?" Sateriasis asked, pointing at the sandwich.

"Yeah, you stuff your favorite cheeses, vegetables, and meats into two pieces or sides of bread." Banica said to the Duke. "And you eat like this." She picked up the sandwich and took a bite of it. "Nom nom nom."

"I see." Sateriasis eats it.

"A man stuck in the past, pitiful." Gallerian said.

"Put a sock in it, Dad." Nemesis said as she flicked his head.

"Hey hey hey." Riliane said, cutting them off. "Before you two turn our lunch into another domestic dispute, I just remembered something; I found a door under a flight of stairs."

"So?" Banica asked after finishing her first sandwich, she was about to grab her second one.

"First off:" Riliane smacked Banica's hand. "Save that sandwich for Allen, and secondly: I want to do things to that basement like make a torture chamber out of it for example."

"Heh, I can go for a torture chamber." Nemesis smirked, already getting ideas revolving around her father.

"Go to hell, demon." Gallerian sneered at her, getting a good idea what his daughter's thinking of.

"Don't be sadistic you guys." Margarita said. "I think it could be a nice place for chemistry."

"But they confiscated your set." Sateriasis said.

"Oh."

"I would go for a small tailor shop, but at this moment I don't, in fact I suggest you people leave the basement alone if you know what's good for you until Allen returns."

"Why?" Riliane asked.

"Nothing...I said too much." Kayo stood up and walked out.

"Tch, she's so weird."

"It's probably just a couple of bugs and rodents in there, we can get them out faster then I can say "Bon Appetit"." Banica said, licking her own lips.

"Meh, I guess your right."

After Lunch

Nemesis and Riliane are standing in front of the basement door. Brooms, flash lights, and Bug spray in hand.

"Ready, Nems?" Riliane asked.

"Ready." Nemesis responded.

"Here we go!" Riliane opened it, but it was locked. "Well that killed the moment."

"I got it." Nemesis began to pick the lock with her hair pin, a click can be heard. "And opens." She said as the door opens, she then used a flash light inside the room and found there was a flight of stairs covered in carpet and a wall that seems to turn the corner to a small flight of stairs, down below was a chain used to turn on the lights. They slowly walked down to the switch and turned it on, the walls was a nice pale yellow with brown lining near the floor. They then turn the corner to find a very dark room, the only thing that can be seen is a screen window that's opened, Nemesis sees a light switch near the opening of the room. "Alright, here's go nothing." Nemesis said as she flicked the switch, much to their surprise and horror, there was lots and lots of cobwebs across the empty room, dead corpses of flies and different kinds of bugs on the ground, and a large colony of Black Widows scattering across the walls, floor, and ceilings, and judging by the size of them it means they're ready to lay eggs. The two girls screamed in horror when they saw the nest before them and ran up the stairs, slamming the door to the basement shut.

"So, what's in there?" Sateriasis asked.

"BLACK WIDOWS! THEY'RE EVERYWHERE!" Riliane exclaimed in terror.

"I don't want to alarm you, but there's something moving in your hair, Riliane." Gallerian said pointing at the spider.

"OH MY GOSH IT'S BIG!" Margarita gasped in horror.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH! GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT!"

"Hold still honey, I wanna try it!" Banica said trying to calm the tyrant down, she grabbed the black widow by it's bottom and tossed it in her mouth, making a crunch sound. "Crunchy, chewy, juicy, and tangy, it would make a pleasant topping for pasta." Banica said, causing the men behind her to groan in disgust.

"Don't worry, Riliane. It's gone now." Margarita said patting Riliane's back as the tailor panted, still shook up and frightened by the experience.

"This ain't good, those little buggers look like they're gonna lay eggs any day now, this whole box would be infested and we'll be bitten." Nemesis said, recovering from the scare.

"But don't they bite when they're under attack?" Margarita asked.

"They do but for once I have to agree with Nemesis." Gallerian said. "We're not taking chances with getting bitten."

"And we only have so much bug spray." Nemesis said.

"Then we'll have to take care of them one by one by ourselves." Venomania said.

Plan A: Peacekeeping

"Margarita, I don't think it's gonna work." Gallerian said.

"Don't worry, Judge, I've come prepared." Margarita was geared in a long-sleeved sweater, a pair of trousers, boots, and gloves, just so she won't be bitten, she was also holding a plastic megaphone. She gone down to the basement and turned on the megaphone, yelling: "ATTENTION SPIDERS! YOU NEED TO TAKE YOUR YOUNGLINGS AND LEAVE THIS BASEMENT AT ONCE!" She said with a stern tone with her voice. "I MEAN IT! I'M NOT GONNA SAY THIS AGAIN!" Without even knowing, some of them began climbing on her pigtails up to her neck and face. "Ummm, please?" They start biting her on her face and neck. "OW! OW! OW! THEY'RE BITING ME!" She ran out of the room, "OW! OW! IT HURTS!" Up stairs, Banica began taking the spiders off of her and putting them in a jar while Nemesis began rubbing Antivenin on her wounds to avoid infection.

"I thought asking them to leave was a good idea." Margarita said, wincing in pain.

"They're arachnids woman, animals, they won't listen to reason." Nemesis said.

"Ow, I blame Mikulia's love for fairy tales."

"Watch it, Marchioness, she was fun to be around with in my harem." Sateriasis poked her face.

"Ow."

"Sorry, but please."

Plan B: Stomping

Sateriasis went inside the basement and stood at it's center, he began killing each widow under his boots. One by one they fall victim to the licentious duke's feet. "Seriously Duke, your gonna kill them like that?" Gallerian scoffed at the noble while standing by the entrance.

"Well the people in my time don't exactly have these things called "bug spray", Judge." He scoffed, "Stomping is known to be a last resort." As he kept stomping on the widows, they began climbing into his coat and onto his face and hands. "No! NO! AHHH! OOOW!" They began to bite him as well. "AHHHH! MY BEAUTIFUL FACE!" And Gallerian just sat back, holding in his laugh at the site before him, very cruel one might say, just then Gallerian felt something crawling onto the back of his neck and bit him there.

"OW!" He slapped his neck and found a now dead black widow on his hand, karma just reared it's ugly head on the judicial miser as they start climbing on and biting him. "OW! OWW! AHH!"

The two men eventually ran out of the basement, Gallerian hitting the wall by his nose thus causing the spiders to fall off and his nose to bleed while Sateriasis removed his coat and shirt to find my bites on his body. "OH MY GOD! THOSE LITTLE MONSTERS MADE ME HIDEOUS!" He screamed in complete agony from the spiders as Banica started taking more spiders off of him and put them in the jar while Nemesis starts applying antivenin onto him.

"Th-there's on me! g-get it!" Gallerian said as he held his nose.

"No, I rather like you covered in bites and rabies." Nemesis sassed.

"You're a bitch."

"Come on! Now's not the time to act like jerks to one another!" Riliane said, now finally recovering from the shock herself. "I think it's best to leave the basement alone until we can find a decent way to take care of them, Allen would know what to do."

"Well he isn't here now is h-Ow! Ok seriously get these bite checked out, Nemesis!"

"Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine." Nemesis went and fixed up father's wounds.

"Hm, I think I got an idea of what to do with the situation, but it's gonna take gift to do it." Sateriasis said.

"Eh?"

"I'm not sure about that idea, Duke." Banica said as she closed the jar.

"THOSE MONSTERS DID THIS TO ME! THEY'RE GONNA PAY FOR IT!"

"Ok! Ok! Got it."

"Say, stop me if I'm wrong but, how are you not infected by the bites?" Margarita asked as she pointed at the spider bites on Banica's finger tips.

"I'm immune to all poisons, I even ate the shaved dust of Grim the End, makes a excellent spice."

"You're crazy."

Plan C: Basement go boom boom

Nemesis and Margarita were wearing masks as Nemesis began dumping gun powder into a medium sized pot full of bug spray and some of the few ingredients use to make GIFT, no blood included. Margarita was stirring the mixture carefully as it started to turn into a pretty shade of dark aqua green despite it's use. "Is it ready yet?" Banica asked, Margarita held the spoon to Banica since she's immune to other illnesses and deadly smells. "The smell is strong, it might be enough to either kill or drive the widows out of their nests."

"I hope so too, Banica. Oh Judge, is the container ready?"

"Yes." He said wearing a mask and molding a mound of plaster and flammable clay into a round shape, a nozzle to attach it's self to a lid, and made a long string attached to a lid to lit it up with.

"Good." Margarita then went and poured the mixture into the round container, Nemesis also poured a little more gun powder for good measure.

"It's ready, our "Bug-b-gone gift bomb"." Nemesis said as she took the bomb into the basement, she lit up a match with a match to the boot and lit it on the rope on the bomb, she threw it, ran out, and slammed the door shut to avoid the explosion. "HIT THE DECK!" Everyone prepared for what might happen, just then...

BOOOOOOOOOM

The bomb went off, teal green smoke began to come out from the bottom of the door. Tempting to know what happened down there; Banica opened the door and out of the teal smoke was a army of Black Widows running out with their young on their backs, climbing on the sinners and started viciously biting them, in addition to that; the smoke reached the sprinklers in the basement's ceilings and began setting off the rest of the sprinklers, drenching everything and everyone in water. Just then Kayo appeared from the attic, covered in the fabrics from Yingmu. "What's going on down there?" She climbed down from the attic, walked down the stairs, and saw the mayhem taking place. "OH MY GOD!"

"OPEN THE FRONT DOOR, KAYO! HURRY!" Riliane screamed while trying to get the spiders off of her. Kayo ran to the front door, she started getting bitten by her ankles.

"OW! OW! OW!" She chatted in pain as she ran.

Outside the house, two minutes earlier

A white light appeared in the Keyhole shaped sun and floated down to the front porch, the forms appear to be that of Allen and Behemo with Behemo now refreshed and wearing his trademark maid's dress. "Ahhhh, I was afraid that Sickle was gonna blow his top up into space." Allen sighed as he rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger.

"Well at least he was able to calm down and settled things with Jun, now the sinners can have access to Yingmu when you ask them to." Behemo said as he straighten his hair.

"Only when they deserved it, as an award for good behavior and not driving me insa-WHOA!" He was startled when he saw water coming from the bottom of the door, wondering what could have caused it. "What is going on in there?" Just when he's about to unlock the door, Kayo busted the door open, soaked in water and covered in black widows. Her current appearance caused Behemo and Allen to scream in utter terror while Kayo screamed because of the pain and the two blonds screaming at her. The black widows ran off through the open door and into the wild of the dark gray forest, never to be seen again. After Kayo fell onto her knees, Behemo and Allen looked over her and saw sprinklers going off, the remaining black widows on the ground dead from either drowning, stomping, or succumbing to the effects of the bug spray-gift bomb hybrid, and the sinners drenched and covered in spider bites. "...I...refused...to ask..." Allen slowly backs away from the devastation.

"...You guys found the basement, did you?" Behemo asked sheepishly.

"I told them not to." Was Kayo's only reply.

"Don't worry, we'll do something about it, love." He patted her head. "In the meantime, we better get your guy's wounds checked up and make sure you don't succumbed to their venom." He motioned his hands to get the sinners to come with him, they did as he said.

"You just have to use the bomb, Nemesis." Gallerian sneered, before sneezing.

"Not now with that bullcrap, Father." She barked at him, Behemo looked at Allen and asked:

"You think they're gonna suffer arachnophobia because of this?"

"I don't know, but how am I gonna explain THIS to Sickle?" Allen said as he pointed at the mess inside.

"Ehhh you're right, you're screwed kid, looks like YOU'LL be going into the Hellish Yard with the sinners."

END CHAPTER

[martywurst]

YEAR 2: The Worst Comedian (Part 2)

I had an encounter with former Comedy Store talent coordinator, Tommy, who was fired just months prior and was working on developing another home base where he could still play comedy godfather. The Vaucluse Lounge was a mere two blocks away from the Comedy Store and now Tommy was recruiting comics that were still loyal to him and putting on shows. They were calling this place Chaplin's House, but I don't think there was anything historic about it.

It really was an impressive bar/lounge, but management was falling apart. It was a ghost town. I ordered their onion rings and got a pile of American cheese on a couple of turd circles (psst, I'm not really a writer). I ordered something disgusting and got so much more.

"Ooh, that looks good, I'm gonna get that!" one comic said, pinching and stretching some cheese off my plate.

A couple of nights the place was locked up unannounced, black curtains drawn, even though a show was supposed to be going on. Headliners were bailing before their sets.

There were a couple of open mics going on there, too. Tommy would play some acoustic guitar for 30 minutes to get the room warmed up. He played the same three songs over and over. Or maybe it was just the same three chords, I can't remember. He was like one of those dudes that destroy a party by forcing us to listen to a cover of Hotel California. Strictly Hollywood Blvd quality. Then he would hang out for the mic and occasionally give advice to some lucky comic.

After one of my sets, he was suddenly next to me, talking into my ear like David Blaine.

"There's something that's still missing, but I don't know what it is."

"I'm not connecting with the audience?" I asked.

"There was just something missing. Try sitting on a stool and just saying your material, so it's not so (in-your-face gesture) forced. Your material is good, it had an intelligence and you have a good look. It's not about how you look on stage, it's about how you look on camera....really. But I think you just need to say what you have to say- I took it in. You'll get there, I enjoyed it."

Then he patted me on the shoulder and walked away.

Maybe if I worked hard enough I could become a Vaucluse regular! I honestly thought it was cool to get advice from Tommy, despite him being a reputed racist douchebag. I mean, he was once the apprentice of The Comedy Store owner Mitzi Shore, so his opinion has to count for something, right? A racist's opinion is still an opinion. Plus, he really wailed on the guitar!

One night at Vaucluse I waited around for 2 hours to do a 10 minute set. That's actually a good set for that kind of wait, but this night was excruciating. There was a line-up of all male comics that had plenty to say about the opposite sex: Stories varied from "This bitch was sucking my dick," to "I wanted to give her brown eye a black eye!" and so forth. I remember hearing the bartender making pained noises behind the counter, like some victim of a stabbing. left for dead. She had to just stand there and take it...every worthless comedian. Worst of all, EVERYONE got 10 minutes. When the first 30 seconds are torture, the next 9 1/2 feel like a lifetime. When they finally got to me the host said,

"Uhh, you get 2 minutes."

I've never been that pissed at an open mic before. Mother...FUCKER. They were letting the worst people host, nothing ever started on time, the food was godawful, the bartender wanted to kill herself, and no one seemed to give a shit that the place was falling apart. I was mentally trying to stay positive and tune out all the negative shit I'd been listening to, but now I wanted to douse myself in gasoline and tackle the host into the fireplace--that would be such a great closer. My stomach was turning from the onion rings, so I opted for my shitty set instead.

But hey, it's 2 minutes so I did it. I got through a joke-and-a-half. Once I left, I cursed and muttered angrily all the way to the bus, letting the "cocksuckers" and "motherfuckers" fly.

I went home and looked at their Facebook page and saw this ridiculous post,

"Chaplin's House is being called the New Comedy Store...no joke."

Nobody's laughing.

Anyway, that place folded and Tommy moved on to another space where he still occasionally gives out his comedy pointers.

Also in my second year I was doing fewer bringer shows, but I still got roped into a couple more at Flappers. I would quickly get stressed out again and moan to my girlfriend about why I put myself through this. Just reading the emails made me want to puke:

Respond to this email with a head count of how many audience you expect so that we can properly staff the room. 

It takes everyone involved to have epic shows--we do ask everyone to always aim to have at least 5 people per show.  If you are unable to get anyone out please let us know and we will re-schedule you for a date that is more convenient for you to support.

Like I said before, they only want me back when I make some fucking friends!

I decided to not show up at all and go to the Rebel Bite open mic in Long Beach instead. An open mic at a pizza joint was better than doing a bringer show, at least in my head. I wrote back:

Sorry for the delay,   I wanted to get a more accurate count of zero confirmed.    I think my friends tapped out months ago.  Let me know if you want to reschedule or give me the boot.  Or I'll audition again once I have a little fanbase I can depend on instead of wasting everybody's time. Nothing personal.  Thanks.

I shouldn't have felt bad about it anyway, since I bought 4 of my videotaped sets from them.

Then there was the Formosa Cafe. I did it because I was told it wasn't REALLY a bringer show...just sort of. Uggh. I won't mention the names. I can still hear the producer pretending to laugh at other people's sets--so forced and obvious, trying to get the crowd on our side. He'd be looking down at his phone and let out a

"BWAHAHAHAHA!"

Then I'd have to listen to some jerk-off host do his Family Guy impressions for 15 minutes. Then the producer would go up and do the most dated material--many of these bringer show people stick to their one routine. Anyway, what do I know, they're the ones cashing in, right?

I had friends show up for my first and second show, then the third time none of my friends came out and the producer stopped booking me. During past shows, he was blowing smoke up my ass and said all these nice things about my particular brand of humor, but he was only thinking about the head-count. He was a phony just like his forced laughter.

 There were some nice moments. My blues buddy, Street Slim invited me to do a set at The Rainbow Bar and Grill, a really cool rock bar on The Sunset Strip. Just to do something outside the ring of comedians that I was usually bumping heads with felt really special.

My friend Donald and I rented out a black box theater and produced a variety show. It ran 2 1/2 hours and half the audience left, but we had a great time.

I co-produced a comedy show with Jeanne Whitney and Timika Hall at Echoes Under Sunset. We only did 3 shows, but it was a fantastic experience.

I remember bombing at the new UCB on Sunset and when I was walking back to the car, a couple I've never seen before starts yelling at me from their car.

"Marty, you were funny!"

"What?"

"We were inside."

"Really? Thanks, it felt like death in there."

"We thought you were funny."

"Working on it, working on it."

That blew my mind. Who does that? And they remembered my name!

One time they moved a Comedy Store open mic into the Main Room and after we finished our sets, Bill Burr dropped in and did 15 minutes to an all-comic crowd. It was awesome.

Another time I was waiting around for Tony Bartolone's Hat Show to start and the great Rick Shapiro was outside with Rick Wood and Jeremy Bassett. Shapiro was making fun of the Oldtown Pasadena scene and he suddenly gets a glimmer in his eye and this evil grin,

"Let's go to the Mac Store and jerk off!"

It was said with such demented glee. Later we went to get him some Starbucks and he told the barista that his name was Johnny Two Chicks. He was so excited to hear the name called out, but it didn't get the reaction he wanted.

 Then there was the time that I was waiting in the green room for another possible Kill Tony episode at the Comedy Store. Dom Irrera comes in and sits down across from me. It's silent, it's uncomfortable, the guy is amazing, so I'm a little in awe. He asks me if I'm a comic and how long I've been doing it. Very friendly, but I just gave him short answers. Meanwhile, Pat Regan was on stage singing about how much he misses getting jacked off in San Francisco, and Dom and I are just sitting there while this song is in the background. Dom turns to me completely serious and says,

"This song brings back a lot of memories." I barked out a laugh.

I started making goofy set-lists and posting them online. Just a good way to vent about the shit I'd seen at open mics during the week. Here are a few of my favorites:

The usual variety of homophobic/misogynistic shit I'd hear on any given week.

 My second Kill Tony appearance went a little better, but only because I managed to get a few laughs. It was a unique situation because I brought my buddy Dakota Freeman with me, but he was under 21 and wouldn't be allowed inside the club unless he was called up to perform. So I stood outside with him, listening through the door every few minutes to see if we'd get called.

About 30 minutes into the show I got called, but I couldn't open the door from the outside. For a second, the hosts thought I had flaked, but a couple of my friends were in the audience, telling them I was behind the door because I was with a minor. They opened the door for me and at this point there was some confusion because the hosts were under the impression that I was the one underage. Then when it was cleared up Tony says,

"Oh, you're hanging out with underage boys. Ok!"

Before I've even started my set, another pedophile joke had been spiked over my head. You can probably see where this is going.

I didn't gain any Twitter followers this time--in fact, I think I lost a couple.  They probably thought I was really a pedophile.

 Gradually, I found some open mics down in Long Beach, where I had moved in with my girlfriend. There was the SOM open mic at the Rebel Bite pizzeria, The Library Coffeehouse, Blacklight District Lounge and Makai Coffee.

Now if I wasn't feeling the LA scene that week, I had the option to hit some mics in my neighborhood. Rebel Bite, Makai, and The Library were just a mile away. Long Beach was also calmer. I could do longer sets- I did my first 15 minute set at Rebel Bite. I met some nice people. It's funny how these two coffee shops were the polar opposite in terms of an audience--take a look below.

I was also hearing some positive feedback for a change. Sometimes my conceptual ideas would play well and even if they didn't, I'd still be writing the kind of stuff I wanted to try. The support I was getting from my new friends gave me the confidence to try bigger ideas. Showing up to mics and finally having a group of friends to talk to was a nice break. I was so used to being the creeper that was eavesdropping outside a circle of comedy nerds or asking Dean Delray stupid questions in the Comedy Store hallway. Complimenting comics on their podcasts, or a joke that I liked, thinking I always had to go in with a compliment or they'd hate my guts. Then I would fuck up their name anyway, which made the compliment null and void.

I'm still learning to relax, but I'm usually amped up whenever I'm in Los Angeles. I feel the cutthroat competition and that air of judgement. Mostly because I'm carrying it around with me--turn that shit off Wurst, these are your friends! I don't have to prove anything to these comics, we're all showing up to the same mic. Charles Disney was just saying how we ask questions that we want to be asked in return,

"You got any cool gigs coming up? No? NOW ASK ME IF I HAVE ANY COOL GIGS! THANK YOU, I DO! SLEEPAWAY CAMP BABY-MARGARET CHO HEADLINING! ENJOY YOUR SHOW AT P.F. CHANG'S, YA ASIAN FUSION COMIC! "

There's usually 4-5 standard questions (How you doing, got anything coming up, you hitting another mic after this, you ever go to Marty's?) and if there's no conversation beyond that, we're not really friends. It's just surface level pleasantries for insecure comics.

Then there are just genuinely great dudes like Spencer Kalendar, who's never putting on airs and makes me feel like I can just be myself. I think the very first thing he said to me was,

"I remember you from Kill Tony, you're the pedophile guy!"

[themomsandthecity]

The Last Father's Day Gift I Gave My Dad

The following excerpt from Let Me Out (A Practical Guide For Bringing Your Ideas to Life) by Emmy- and Grammy-nominated musician and entrepreneur Peter Himmelman was originally featured on one of our favorite sites, Fatherly. Love can make you a more creative person. Understand that when I use the term creative, I don't mean that you'll suddenly have mastery of any particular skill. I mean that the more you love, the less attention you will pay to your inner critic and the freer your thinking will become. Getting space from this inner critic is what allows a person to be fearlessly responsive to what's taking place around them. This ability to sense and respond is one of the underpinnings of creativity itself, and it is for example a quality a high-level jazz pianist must have to be able to improvise. Research shows that one of the most effective methods of dampening the voice of the inner critic is to develop a more profound relationship with the people you love. Professor and author Barbara L. Fredrickson is the director of the Positive Emotions and Psychophysiology Laboratory at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Professor Fredrickson is known for her pioneering research on the long-lasting emotional benefits of human interconnection. She writes about an interesting behavioral quirk called "hedonic adaptation." Simply put, this means that people who win the lottery, for example, find that after a short while, they're no happier than they were before they struck it rich. That's because they've adapted to the change. According to Professor Fredrickson, our relationships with the people we love (unlike our relationship with fame or material gain) are not subject to hedonic adaptation. From the point of view of neuroscience, the positive emotions that accrue from our healthy, meaningful relationships can last a lifetime. Our brains don't simply adapt to the deep bonds we have with people as they do with a new car or first class plane tickets. Our interactions with loved ones continue to be profound; they uplift us even with the passage of time. When our relationships are strong, we become better able to set aside our self-critical thoughts and make our creative ideas take shape. Here is a story about something I told my dad that changed my entire life: In 1978, I graduated high school, and the romantic "poetry" from Prince's song "Soft and Wet" off his debut album piqued my imagination. How overt, I wondered, could you possibly get with song lyrics? Inspired by Prince, I wrote several songs, thinking, "It's so damn simple. I can write like this and get famous too!" Here are the choruses to some of the songs I wrote: Fireman I'm your fireman show me where you're burning I'm your fireman ooh baby I'm coming I'm your fireman show me where you're burning And I'll be there to hose you down Torture Me Torture me all night long Love me tough love me strong I'll be your victim till the break of dawn Got to move a little faster Baby Let Me Be Your Cigarette Baby let me be your cigarette C'mon and puffa puffa puffa till my tip gets wet Light me up and baby don't fret Cause girl I want to be your cigarette . . . While I was writing these "works of genius" - and supposedly having the time of my life - I was in deep emotional pain. My dad discovered a lump in the back of his neck in the autumn of 1979. It took the doctors a week to determine that he had stage-four lymphoma. They figured he had six months, tops. At the time I'd been an avid practitioner of Transcendental Meditation and one of its stated goals was that it could help to flatten the emotional highs and lows that we normally experience. Because I barely reacted when I'd heard the news, I decided then and there that something that could make me this flat to what should have been devastating couldn't be good and I vowed to quit TM that very night. I understood later that it wasn't the TM that had flattened me, but my own propensity to go inside myself, to stay as far away from my feelings as possible. It was as if I'd been playing a sort of double role for myself. In some instances I was hypersensitive and very connected to the grief I was experiencing. In others, I was completely divorced from my emotions. Years later, toward the end of my dad's life, everything came crashing as the two halves collided. Amery, Wisconsin - 1983 Our band was finishing its last set at a bar called The Country Dam. It was late and the crowd was so drunk they were falling over one another, screaming for one more chorus of "Fireman." At four in the morning I pulled up to my parent's house behind my dad's white '83 Chrysler Le Baron, he'd gone all the way to Mankato with my mother to buy this thing. Tired as I was, I couldn't stop looking at that car, wondering how I'd feel about it when he died. It was Father's Day after all, and my Mom had planned a big brunch for him in just a few hours. Cousins, aunts, and uncles - everybody wanted to be there to cheer him up. My Mom had asked me to write something funny, some kind of cute ditty to lighten the mood. Even though my dad had outlived the doctor's dire predictions by four years, we knew that the cancer had progressed to the point where this was very likely his last Father's Day. I was pretty wound up from the performance the night before and since the sun was coming up anyway, I couldn't see any reason to try and sleep. I picked up a guitar. It was an old nylon string that hardly played in tune. I started picking through some chords in a half-trance and began singing softly to myself, just thinking about that Le Baron and how my dad really liked that car. The words came fast and the melody started to take on a shape. Each new line generated more melody and the melody inspired more words. "When no one is forgotten and nothing goes to waste, when sadness turns to laughter, when anger is defaced . . . . . . you'll start to know the way I feel about you." I knew from experience that when a song comes to you like that, it's best to get out of your own way - to be as detached as possible, and yet I couldn't help feeling excited that this was a song for my dad. I thought, "At least now I won't be the only fool at the brunch without a Father's Day present." "And if I could, I'd run out into the world and tell every boy and girl, to love before love takes itself away . . . just like I'm loving you this Father's Day." I made a quick recording of the song, and I was so tired and so emotional that I started crying in the last chorus. I didn't want to let everyone hear me blubbering on tape so I reached over to erase it and sing it again, but at the last second I decided to leave it as was, tears and all. The next morning I brought the cassette upstairs. The brunch was in full swing: The lox and the smoked whitefish had been taken out of the refrigerator and arranged on platters. The scrambled eggs and onions were warming on the stove. The cinnamon rolls and the cartons of Minute Maid were on the table and the brunch-goers were trying their best to slap on their happiest faces. I put the cassette in the stereo, and I swear it took no more than ten seconds for everyone to break down in tears and exit the room. Now it was just my dad and me - both of us staring out the big picture window of our den, listening as the song played. As it ended, we held each other and cried. Whatever facade of normalcy we'd been putting up over the last several months washed away in the emotion of that song. I'd wanted to say so many things to him, and for so long. Somehow the song expressed everything so well. From that morning on, my dad carried the cassette around with him in his breast pocket. He died a few months later on Thanksgiving night. We got a call from the hospital as we were sitting at the table; the turkey had never even been carved. As tragic and sad as his death was, I've never felt remiss for not expressing how I felt. Putting my emotions on display was hard. Nonetheless, I felt close enough to my dad to keep the recording intact and then later, to play it for everyone at the brunch. As Professor Fredrickson explains, in contrast to our material possessions, the joy we derive from our most loving relationships does not diminish over time. In terms of creativity, this suggests to me that those deep relationships can gird us to withstand our innate fear of failure. Knowing that we have a rock-solid support system allows us the strength to ignore the negative assessments we have of ourselves and to reclaim a fearless, childlike relationship with the world. That support was the priceless gift my dad gave to me. http://bit.ly/2q1CDIb