#Shackled Revelations Au

[the-new-pokespe-futures]

Hey what are pechrunt’s generals? You mentioned them in my previous ask and are they chained humans/pokemon? What about okidogi, fezandipiti, and munkidori?

And with an out of context image, What does toxic revolutions Kieran look like?

Ok, to answer your question, short answer: they’re chained Pokémon

Long answer: They are a specific set of chained Pokémon who work under Pecharunt’s military division and are basically the strongest among the rest of the other units. While I said that they’re over 20 of them, in actuality, only 5 are generals and the rest are lieutenants under each general, said lieutenants have their own troops. Now, the military division has 5 factions, one with their own general as a leader. The troops are both possessed and toxic chained humans and Pokémon. If a certain number of troops are strong and experienced enough, they break off into a task force. Mainly to deal with situations that are out of hand and if the lieutenants or generals aren’t available or to save time. They’re way too many task forces to count but if you want to know, then I shall deliver. I really want to draw them out, but I can’t draw well and I’ve no money for commissions, but I have the concepts in my head :,). Also the lousy 3 aren’t part of it.

Speaking of the Lousy 3, after stuff that happened in the Teal Mask, Pecharunt found them and send all back to his headquarters. Considering how underpowered they all are compared to the rest of his troops, he decided to do a brutal training regime to help them increase in power level and to focus on their strengths and overcoming weaknesses. Pecharunt can just strengthen the power of the toxins, but he feels like it’s not going to help the 3 learn about putting in effort. So, here are the training regimes:

Okidogi: Practice endurance and number of punches he can do in a minute. As well as working on how fast his reflexes are.

Munkidori: Practice being able to see multiple outcomes at once so his abilities are not too rigid in thinking. Plays chess with Pecharunt to exercise his thinking skills, solves puzzles and riddles (and sometimes ARGs) that are given to him by Pecharunt for the same reason.

Fezandipiti: Practice aerial maneuvers, as well as endurance in how long he can stay airborne. Also trains in how far he can release his pheromones, to cover a wider range.

As for Kieran, I’d say he starts out normal. Until he meets Pecharunt, where he does get his desire granted via shaking Pecharunt’s hand (or in this case, a toxic chain that is like a hand). When a desire is granted, a sigil will be shown on his wrist which is the symbol of the toxic chain ⛓️‍💥 . Think of it like the sigils from The Owl House. His design in The Indigo Disk is virtually the same as his original counterpart but also having the symbol on his left wrist.

Throughout the story that I have for the AU, he slowly and subtly becomes more and more animalistic without him knowing, not full-on becoming a Pokémon or a hybrid, just some traits. Having sharper teeth, keener sense, enhanced strength, enhanced speed, enhanced agility, enhanced intelligence and so on. However, competitive Pokémon, this is desire that he wanted to Pecharunt grant and since Pecharunt is a man of his word, he agrees to the deal with no backstabbing. He does sort of become a puppet for Pecharunt during the story of the Indigo Disk and the third story. He only has a drastic design change once we hit the arc where Pecharunt truly makes his appearance and presence as an antagonist. Since, he’s been here the entire time, just waiting for the right time to strike.

But no spoilers as of now (and also, I don’t have to anything to think for his design so I kinda winged it, but I also am working on my main fic “Battlin’ on a Friday Night on AO3. And studies).

I hope this answers your question and sorry for taking so long. But for now, see you next time!

Also the AU name is ‘Shackled Revelations’ not ‘Toxic Revolutions’ btw

[kristinamae093]

Ghosted

Ghosted — Betrayal (Chapter Twelve)

Series Summary - Prince Liam fell for Riley Brooks hard and fast. A marriage filled with love and devotion was within his reach, but everything changed when she vanished just before the end of the social season. As everyone voices their concerns regarding her scandalous departure, a confession from an unlikely source turns Liam's world upside down and makes him question everything around him.

Book/Pairing - TRR - Liam x f!MC (Riley Brooks)

A/N 1 - This AU starts right before the beginning of the engagement tour. There is a two-month lapse between the coronation and where we pick up, but we will stray from canon. Please excuse any errors found. Not beta'd.

Characters belong to Pixelberry.

Tags - @choicesficwriterscreations

It's another long one 😬👉👈🥹. Oops.

Liam and Drake closely followed as the guards led Bastien into the depths of the Portavirian estate. The halls remained eerily quiet as the nobility slept; not a soul to be found other than those involved with Penelope’s homicide investigation. Neither male spoke a word, but both reeled in this blindsiding revelation.

The betrayal Liam felt was like no other. Bastien was like a father to him, always around when he needed someone, but now he wondered if he ever knew him. Bastien saw him at his lowest and protected him at all costs, but somewhere along the way he changed; he couldn’t determine when that shift happened or if his guard was that good of a deceiver from the start, and felt like a fool for not seeing his insubordination sooner. It didn’t matter what he said, nor how much he pleaded; Liam already knew he was guilty, but didn’t know the extent of his involvement.

So many unanswered questions ran rampant through his mind, but ultimately the one he cared about was, where is Riley? The scandal was no longer relevant; all that mattered was finding her and ensuring she was safe. Justice would be served to all who deserved it later but right now, she was the top priority. That wasn’t a new revelation, but the urgency suddenly skyrocketed.

Liam did his best to stay afloat, but couldn’t stop his mind from wandering. If Riley was still in the country, what did that mean? Was she being held hostage somewhere? Would a ransom note appear at some point? Is she even alive? The continuous spiral intensified and formed a vortex of frustration and confusion, enveloping him from the inside out. He wanted to scream and cry to the heavens, anything to relieve some of the never-ending tension slowly constricting his muscles. Every second that passed without knowing she was safe, he grew weaker, feeling control slip right through his fingertips. The never-ending vat of unanswered questions took their physical and mental toll on Liam as a monarch and man alike.

However, every ounce of strength that remained pushed him forward. The adrenaline coursing through his veins mindlessly carried him, as he and Drake walked in deafening silence.

They continued until they entered a dark room with a table and two chairs. The guards sat Bastien down on one side and secured shackles in place over his wrists, much to his displeasure. Liam took the seat that mirrored his, shooing the bystanders out as he did. Drake lingered close by, reeling in his feelings of hurt, betrayal, and anger. Bastien quieted, but his entire body went rigid after his former subordinates exited the room. Liam placed his hands on the table and stared at them for a long while, trying to slow the wild rush inside his mind.

He finally raised his head and spoke to Bastien in the flattest, calmest tone he could muster. “Do you know why you’re here?”

“I don’t, sir.”

“First, let’s talk about Penelope. You and I both know she did not take her own life, so I’m curious to know how you came to that conclusion.”

Bastien furrowed his brow. “Not to be forward, but she was literally hanging from the ceiling… We found a note in her room, and she had every reason to want to do it — considering she was about to be arrested.”

“Right… Speaking of that… I want to see that report again.”

“Pardon?”

“The report — the one that says Penelope’s DNA was all over the murder weapon because honestly, I think you’re full of shit.” Liam hissed.

“I most certainly am not, sir. The documents are in the security office. If you remove these cuffs, I will gladly retrieve them.” Bastien confidently responded.

“That won’t be necessary.” Liam knew if he told the truth, Olivia would find them and if she didn’t, Bastien just caught himself in another lie. “Now, the next order of business — where were you the night of the jamboree? I don’t remember seeing you at all.”

Bastien stiffened. “I was doing security checks around the estate—”

“If you were doing security checks, how’d a rogue photographer make it in?” Drake interjected.

Bastien swallowed thickly, his gulp echoing in the silence. “... What?”

“You heard what he said — answer the damn question.” Liam snapped.

“She must have—”

“She?” Liam interrupted with a chortle. “That’s funny — because I never mentioned gender. Do you know something that I don’t?”

“I only took a guess — there was a fifty percent chance I would be correct.” Bastien calmly, yet firmly, answered with a dismissive shrug. “I’m not precisely sure how they breached the perimeter, but we’ve been working to strengthen our units ever since.”

“Right…” Liam nodded and forcefully clenched his jaw. It took every ounce of his restraint not to reach across the table and wrap his hands around Bastien’s throat because he couldn’t trust a single word coming out of his mouth.

Drake spoke again before Liam could act on his intrusive thoughts. “What about the Apple Banquet? Where were you then?”

“I was with His Majesty while he spoke to the Beaumonts. Someone alerted me to the body, and I immediately sprung into the proper protocol.”

“No, not when the maid was found — earlier. Where were you before that?” Liam demanded.

Bastien hesitated, but quickly fixed his features. “I was addressing an issue regarding Countess Madeleine’s security arrangements. Her old guard needed to take personal leave, so I had to find a suitable replacement.”

“... And she will vouch for you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Liam’s frustration skyrocketed, as he didn’t know how to take that statement. The number of people he could trust seemed to only shorten by the day, yet Madeleine was never present, nor even an honorable mention on that list; the time to trust her word was not amid this chaos.

“Okay, then—” Liam started again, his agitation noticeably rising. “Do you know where Riley is?”

“I don’t, sir. All I know is she returned to New York, and—”

“How did you come to that conclusion, exactly? Because I’ve done some digging and found nothing to point to that. There are no traces of her after she left the jamboree whatsoever, Bastien; not flights, not vehicles — nothing.”

Bastien shifted in his seat. “My information led me to that conclusion, Your Majesty.”

“Well, your information was wrong, and I can’t help but feel you knew that all along, didn’t you?”

“I’m not sure what you’re insinuating, but—”

“You knew she didn’t return to New York because you took her away, right? Is that how she made it out undetected? Or are you the one who assaulted her?” Liam thought back to his out-of-body experience and remembered the shadow lingering in front of her door. “Or did you stand guard while it happened? Is that it?”

“I did no such thing.” Bastien hastily replied, but cleared his throat and added, “What would I gain from any of this? Why would I give a damn who you choose?”

“That’s kind of what I’m wondering.” Drake inserted with a skeptical eye. “Look, Bas — I don’t want to believe you had a hand in all this, but it’s not looking good, man.”

“What doesn’t look good?” Bastien returned. “All I’ve done is look for her! I’ve been trying to help you!”

“Bullshit,” Liam seethed. “You know something and I demand you tell me — right now.”

“I know nothing, sir. I’ve kept you updated on every piece of information uncovered.”

“You need to understand something —” Liam's breaths turned heavy and his face flushed every shade of crimson. “I am not fucking around. This is your final opportunity — if you know something and do not tell me, I will serve your head on a silver fucking platter at the next state function. Is that clear enough for you?” He rumbled through clenched teeth. The hand he raised to point at Bastien visibly trembled, as the dam broke and rage flowed freely through his body.

Bastien’s eyes widened, and he visibly swallowed. He quickly composed himself and softly answered, “I understand the circumstances have been — tense — for everyone involved. You’ve had a rough couple of weeks, and —”

Liam slammed his fist onto the table and shot up from his seat. “Do NOT fucking patronize me!” He bellowed.

The door suddenly swung open and Olivia marched inside. In her hands, she carried a folder along with a few smaller items, but her facial expression was the picture-perfect image of unrestrained fury. “You have a lot of explaining to do.” She rumbled as she bore her eyes into Bastien.

Never could she have imagined the man sitting before her would betray them in such a way, but now they had proof; undeniable, unavoidable, but yet — incredibly unsettling evidence.

Bastien audibly gulped as he recognized the documents and all traces of pigment in his complexion vanished. With so much going on, he didn’t have the chance to dispose of everything properly. Liam and his group of friends moved faster than anticipated, and with their unexpected changes to the tour, he fell behind. The important information was extracted long ago, but what remained was still very incriminating — for Bastien.

Powerful forces expected him to pull off the impossible, but he was only one person — how was he supposed to fend off four people, plus a hired professional? Multiple ends that should’ve received immediate attention didn’t. Penelope ranked fairly high on that list, but his concerns got cast aside. His instructions were to deflect, deter, and stay silent regarding the madness; trust the process and your reward will be bountiful, they would say. Regardless, he didn’t want to aid in this crazy scheme, but had no choice — they knew information about his past nobody should have uncovered, so he found himself backed into a corner.

But as Bastien stared at the evidence of his transgressions, he realized silence would no longer be an option. He knew one way or another at that moment he was as good as dead; the question was would it be at the hands of his seething monarch, the man he practically raised, or the people who made his life a living hell to begin with?

Olivia rifled through the things on the table until she found what she searched for. “Remember when Bastien told you he disposed of Riley’s phone and her note?” She held both items up to show everyone along with her letter, noting how the guard immediately tucked his chin into his chest. “The penmanship matches mine, meaning it’s the same as Penelope’s.”

Liam forcefully clenched his jaw. “You lied to me?”

“That’s not all,” Olivia continued. “Bastien told us Penelope is the one who killed the maid, but that’s not true. Sure, the gum was hers — hair too — but the funny thing is that as it turns out, there are two sets of results on that knife.”

“There’s not—”

Olivia cackled, cutting Bastien off. “Don’t even try to lie. I’m holding what appears to be the real results in my hands. What kind of moron keeps the original if he’s planning on cloning it to frame someone else? Fucking nitwit.” She shook her head, distaste lacing her words. “Of course, we’ll have these confirmed for legitimacy, but considering who this one lists as the culprit, I can see why you’d want to cover this up.”

Liam snatched the documents from her and scanned them. His eyes widened as he went through the text, his jaw falling further and further the longer he read. Penelope's fingerprints were on the murder weapon, but unlike the last report he saw, this one went more in-depth. Her DNA might've been on the knife, but only one or two barely distinguishable smears on the blade itself belonged to her. However, the lab noted prominent traces from someone else located everywhere, but mostly on the handle, indicating that their person of interest should be whoever the second set of prints belonged to.

But Liam never received this report, and when he read who the database found as the owner of that second set of prints, he realized why he wasn’t shown.

“It was you…” Liam gasped, finally tearing his attention off the file to center his glare on Bastien. “Why?”

Bastien remained silent. He kept his gaze locked on the table, but the sweat forming on his brow wasn’t unnoticed.

“We know why, Liam. He was trying to shut her up because she spoke with us. And that’s why he offed Penelope too — right, Bastien?” Olivia answered. “Dispose of the loose ends before they can out you?”

“I did not harm Lady Penelope in any way,” Bastien stated with utmost determination, looking directly into Olivia’s steely eyes as he did.

“But you know who did, and you were working to bury that too, correct?” She quickly retorted, arching her brow.

Bastien clenched his jaw and looked away, refusing to speak, but he didn’t need to — Olivia knew she was right.

“You can deny those accusations all you want, but the next ones will be fairly difficult to talk yourself out of,” Olivia snapped as she produced another file and showed it to everyone.

“Operation Ghost?” That title caught Liam’s attention, and his mouth fell agape when he read it. He flipped through the papers inside and realized this was a meticulously planned mission, not a coincidence. While he spiraled deeper into the abyss, further away from reality, intentional carnage ran rampant within his court, and it was all a part of the elaborate plan from the beginning.

Someone plotted to hurt Riley and take her away from him, and that thought momentarily left him breathless.

“Apparently so,” Olivia answered, remorse cracking through her stony features upon seeing Liam’s broken shock. She’d already searched the file and knew what lay ahead, but didn’t know how he would react; it wouldn’t be good regardless. “Someone altered or destroyed most of this —” She paused to throw a death glare at Bastien. “But… There’s something else…”

“What is it?” Drake inquired as he and Liam took in her hesitancy, causing the hair on the nape of their necks to stand at attention.

With a heavy sigh, Olivia opened an envelope and produced a few smaller documents. She slammed them down on the table one at a time, directly in Bastien’s downward cast line of vision. “Here’s Riley’s ID, her passport, and even her goddamn credit cards. Now tell me, Bastien — how did you think she got to New York without those?”

Liam snapped his head over to her. “What?!” He snatched the items off the table and stared at the photo on Riley’s passport in his trembling hands, his heart rate taking flight.

His worst fears suddenly became reality, because he knew it would’ve been impossible for her to get out of the country without identification. This confirmed that Ray was right; she never left Cordonia. Of everything he suspected of Bastien, the things he knew and worked to cover up completely blindsided Liam. It hurt him in a way he didn’t know was possible, to be betrayed by someone he put every single ounce of his trust in.

Plus, had it not been for Olivia and Ray, he probably would have gotten away with it, too. The thought alone created a forceful swarm of guilt as Liam realized once again — this was what he ignored for so long. His breaths turned shallow as his mind took this new information and ran with it, automatically assuming the worst and with no signs to point in a different direction, he couldn’t find any strings of hope no matter which way he looked.

The waves came crashing down, sending him into an instant spiral of equal parts devastation and fear. He swayed on his feet, but eventually lowered himself back into his chair, willing the wild rush to slow.

“What the fuck is this?!” Drake exclaimed, smoke nearly barreling out of his ears. “Where is she?!”

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit! She couldn’t leave without this! You’ve been lying to us all along!”

“I did what I had to,” Bastien returned, his voice devoid of all emotion. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“What did you do to her, Bastien?!” Olivia reiterated. “You can’t deny you know something — if she’s in danger, you need to tell us so we can find her!”

“I did nothing to her! All I did was escort her from the premises to the airport — that’s it.” Bastien huffed, immediately regretting the slip-up, which earned him a unanimous gasp.

“What did you just say?” Liam rumbled with clenched fists, his daze of self-hatred shattering on the spot.

Bastien hesitated but realized it was useless to redact. “I said I escorted her from the premises—”

Liam lunged for him without a second thought. He slammed his face into the table and held him there with all his might by the back of his skull. “So you not only knew, but you fucking helped too?!”

“I did what I had—”

“You son of a bitch!” Liam yelled as he lifted Bastien’s head, only to bounce his cheek against the table with increased force. “I trusted you!”

Bastien tried to respond, but Liam swiftly continued. “You have manipulated and made a fool of me for the LAST fucking time! I told you what I’d do, yet you still lied to me? YOUR MONARCH?!”

Again, Bastien attempted to speak, but Liam wasn’t quite finished. “This WHOLE TIME… You’ve known — you fucking helped — but you continuously led me astray.”

“Sir—”

“YOU DO NOT SPEAK OVER ME!” Liam bellowed, slamming Bastien’s head a third time.

A long silence passed as Liam securely held Bastien by the back of his neck, using more force with every passing second. He saw nothing but blood — everything that would’ve gotten covered up ran through his mind; the murders, Riley, and what seemed to be a never-ending list of other possibilities.

Finally, Bastien timidly sliced through the tension. “Sir, I’m willing to tell you what I know and what I’ve done in exchange for safety. If you do not ensure my life, I will be dead within hours.” He pleaded, preparing to meet the table again. “You have no reason to trust me now, but I will tell you what I can…” He emphasized.

Liam met eyes with Olivia and Drake, a silent conversation taking place. In all honesty, nobody cared what happened to him after the fact; all that mattered right now was getting Bastien to talk by any means necessary. Whoever wanted him dead was more than welcome to finish the job, but not until after he confessed.

Liam released him with a shove but never said a word. Instead, he strode back to the chair across from Bastien and slowly retook his seat. When Liam lifted his head, the pure fury staring back at him slightly took Bastien aback. The patient presence he’d grown accustomed to was long gone, replaced by a man driven to the brink of insanity. Those typically bright baby blues were now dark, vicious, and wild — nearly animalistic as his stare tore through Bastien. It sent a shiver of dread down his spine and made him momentarily fearful of his usually calm and composed king. His head throbbed, but he knew that would not be the worst of what he received — regardless of whose hands he suffered from.

Liam intently held his gaze for a long moment, clenching and unclenching his jaw, but finally spoke in an eerily calm voice. “... Tell us.”

Bastien strode through the country jamboree with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach as he recalled what would happen tonight. A suitor would be removed from the competition, with or without her cooperation. The trap was loaded and ready to go; all they needed was the prey — Riley.

Bastien located Penelope in the crowd and watched her approach Riley. She was deep into a conversation with Maxwell, but Penelope slipped in and played the part surprisingly well. He recognized her shaky hands even from afar, but she discreetly slipped at least half of the pharmaceuticals into Riley’s drink, unbeknownst to her or Maxwell. He didn’t think that part was necessary, but the force beyond insisted it was essential so they would force her to her room before everyone else.

After a time, Bastien observed as Riley hugged Maxwell and headed toward the estate. He quietly followed behind in the shadows as she walked through the deserted halls to her room, cursing the creaky floorboards underneath his feet, but the woman he trailed didn’t notice a thing. Riley skipped, hummed a tune, and even did a little twirl; she had no cares in the world and had no clue that her perception of a fairy tale was about to be shattered.

As her door shut, Bastien took position outside, crossed his arms, and waited for the job to be completed. Everyone else remained at the party outside; it was his assignment to ensure the vicinity stayed clear. He knew who occupied the room neighboring hers, which only fueled the need to get this done and over with as quickly and smoothly as possible.

People spoke behind the door — the voices escalating by the second — but Bastien made it a point to drown them out. The situation could go one of two ways, depending on Riley's cooperation, and it didn't take long for him to realize she chose the hard way. Although he found it difficult to ignore her pleas for help, his allegiance aligned elsewhere.

After a time, a few gentlemen approached but Bastien allowed them access, as he expected them. He didn’t know who they were, just that they would deal with ‘relocating’ Tariq; his task was Riley. One had jet-black hair, while the other donned a baseball cap. They wore a matching dark ensemble, aside from the hat and one having thick, circular lens glasses. A holster of weapons surrounded their belts, making the hair on his arms stiffen. The pair went inside without a word, but Bastien felt their eyes on him as they entered.

The deafening silence hung for what felt like centuries, but eventually, they re-emerged with their cargo in tow.

“Unhand me this instant!” Tariq demanded as the muscles dragged him away.

“Not a chance, fancy boy.” The man with glasses snickered. “Got a special place for you.”

“I did what I was supposed to do!” Tariq pleaded, his tone changing once he realized the seriousness of his situation. “Please — have some compassion!”

“No can do. Boss’s orders were strict — toss you in a hole and throw those God-awful loafers into the ocean.” The dark-haired male snapped his fingers before adding, “I can leave the shoes on if you’d prefer — put some cement in them and send you both on a journey to the bottom of the Mediterranean.” His delight showed brightly, causing Bastien’s pulse rate to skyrocket.

Tariq suddenly planted his feet firmly on the ground. “DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?! OR WHO MY FATHER IS?” He bellowed. “You won’t get away with this — I WILL ENSURE THAT YOU—”

Out of nowhere, the male with the ball cap hit him with the butt of his pistol, silencing his tirade. Tariq slumped to the floor with his eyes rolled back, blood gushing from his nose in an instant.

“Thank you, Claudius. I couldn’t stomach another second of his useless ranting.”

“You and I both.”

“Get him loaded up — we’re on a schedule and need to move.” Claudius hefted Tariq on his shoulder with ease and quickly left out the servants’ exit. As he disappeared, the remaining man shifted his attention to Bastien. “So… You’re prepared to handle the fallout?”

“Of course.” He confidently responded.

“Are you sure? Because I don't think you understand how messy this situation could get in the future… And honestly? If the boss hadn’t enlisted little Miss Penny, this entire operation would’ve crashed and burned before it even took off.” He rolled his eyes. “You thought she would agree to this just for a spot beside the queen?”

“It might surprise you what people will do to get ahead around here.”

“Yes, but they’re willing to execute better with a little — added motivation.” He flashed a wide, sinister smile. “You should know better than anyone…”

Bastien swallowed thickly, his entire body going rigid. “I’m not sure what you’re referencing.”

“Of course not.” He snickered. “I don’t blame you — I wouldn’t want anyone to know you’re the one who mur—”

Bastien held a hand up. “That’s enough.” He spat out.

The male’s smile widened. “As I said, people execute better with added motivation.” He patted Bastien’s shoulder with a little too much force.

“Was there a point to this?” Bastien rumbled through clenched teeth, shaking off the man’s palm.

“I just wanted to make sure it’s one hundred percent clear — you need to ensure anything regarding this stays buried. If too many people ask the right questions before we reach the finish line and the boss has to get involved again… Well —” He grinned, baring his teeth. “That’d just be a shame, wouldn’t it?”

A chill shot down the length of Bastien’s spine. “What is that supposed to mean? Are you threatening me?”

“You may not be the brightest crayon in the box, but you’re not that stupid — you know what will happen.” He responded, amusement written on his cold features. His almond eyes deepened to black, leaving Bastien momentarily speechless.

“I’m certain that won’t be necessary.” Bastien confidently answered after he regained his composure. His companion nodded with an eerie smirk but casually lingered around the door. “Is there something else I can do for you?”

“I was just wondering about Lady Riley… Where you’re planning on sending her since you received the — opportunity to handle her?” He nonchalantly inquired, acting as disinterested as possible. “Such a great honor you have… One I practically begged for.”

“The States, where she came from.” Bastien’s direction was to ship her back to New York as discreetly as possible. Even though the plan took a drastic turn, that was the one constant that couldn't change because otherwise, they would out themselves for taking the reins and disobeying a direct order. She would land on her feet, start a new life, and forget all about Cordonia. Liam would surely want to search for her, but all Bastien had to do was stall until the coronation, when their cover for removing Riley would come to light.

“I see, I see… Well, hopefully, that works out for her.” He smiled, the sight raising goosebumps on Bastien’s arms.

Before Bastien could respond, the door creaked open, and a hooded presence strode out. He paid Bastien no mind, instead focusing on the dark-haired male. “Let us vacate. The party is nearly over, and we have tremendous amounts of work ahead of us if we want to pull this off.”

“What about the court? We can’t go back to —”

“Do not fret, Anton… We have a plan… Trust the process; this is only the beginning. Everything will work out as it should in due time, but we must move — now.”

The pair quickly walked away, but not before Bastien heard Anton loudly whisper, “About that — pit-stop…” to his companion.

Bastien momentarily pondered that statement, but shook off the queasiness inside his stomach, concluding they must be referring to Tariq. As he stared at Riley’s door, a brief flicker of guilt traveled through him. Riley did nothing wrong, and he knew that, but this is the task he regretfully accepted. It was not a personal vendetta, by any means, but this clueless woman aimlessly landed herself in the middle of the nobility; she didn’t understand the untold, dark side of the court and its inhabitants, but would learn on this day.

Bastien cautiously opened the door and entered to find Riley on the edge of her bed, cradling her side. She snapped her head over to him as she heard his footsteps, and her eyes filled to the brim with tears when she met his gaze. He once again fought a wave of remorse at seeing her hopeful expression, knowing he was not the knight in shining armor she assumed he was.

“Bastien, you—you have to help me… Please…” Riley croaked. Her words came out slightly slurred, although it surprised him that the earlier sedatives hadn’t taken a harder effect.

“I’m going to, Lady Riley. First, I need to ensure you’re not carrying anything on you.”

Bastien assisted Riley to a standing position, which she slowly did without question. He didn’t know exactly what transpired, but she had a gash on her side, blood soaking through the thin hoodie she wore. With her permission, he checked the wounds, none of which were bad enough to seek immediate medical attention. Her face was littered with cuts, surely bruises to follow with time, as one of her cheeks was already tinted with a light purple. He started at her shoulders and patted down to her abdomen, but stopped when he felt something in her pocket and pulled out her phone. He nonchalantly slipped the device into his jacket, but despite his best efforts, Riley watched him do it.

“That is my property! You can’t take that!” She protested.

“I’m afraid I can… You are to leave completely empty-handed. Now, we have to get going — you have a flight to catch.” Bastien placed a hand on Riley’s arm to lead her away.

Riley firmly planted her feet in place, shaking away his grip. “Don’t do this, Bastien!”

“You have no choice in this matter and we’re on a time limit,” Bastien replied as he checked his watch.

“What about all my stuff?”

“As I said, empty-handed.” He didn’t understand that part either, but concluded it was easier to shove her on a plane with no items to accompany her.

“On whose authority?!” Riley exclaimed. When he didn’t answer, she reiterated, “Who told you to do this to me, Bastien?!”

“That is confidential information.”

Riley snorted, her frustration written all over her face. “Bullshit! At least be man enough to tell me!”

“Fine. You want to know who did it?” He held her glare, letting the tension linger, but finally answered, “It was Liam.”

Riley stepped away as if she took a blow to the gut, but her devastation quickly morphed into the polar opposite.

Riley laughed; hard enough that tears spilled down her cheeks. “You expect me to believe that? Liam? Of all people?” She shook her head, slightly bouncing from her chuckles. “You think I’m that naïve and stupid?”

“Believe what you will, that matters not to me but my instructions were simple, so we must get moving.” He stated, very matter-of-factly.

“Bastien,” Riley pleaded, any signs of amusement suddenly disappearing. “Don’t do this. I’ll just — I don’t know!” She cried, anxiety prominent in her features. “I won’t say anything to anyone — I swear on my grandmother’s life! Or–or we can tell Liam! Whatever got you wrapped up in this, he will understand.” She reasoned. “Please — you don’t have to conform. We can find a way out of this together.”

Bastien considered it for a second, but ultimately gave Riley a sad smile and nudged her toward the door. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, but he remained firm. He quickly dropped her phone and the pre-written note he received inside her bedside table and went to the threshold, stepping over shards of glass from a broken planter and a bloodied garment.

Leaving her phone there meant it would be an immediate dead end for Liam and her sponsors. He would want to call her — possibly track her — but this ensured that door was closed before it could even be opened. It was a distraction tactic to keep the prince occupied until his reason for her departure would present itself to him, where hopefully, he would drop the matter for good.

Bastien held her stare for a moment before he cleared his throat, emphasizing the need to move. Riley hung her head and eventually slowly walked out the door, quietly sobbing as she did.

Bastien led her down the long hallway toward the servants’ exit, as their SUV waited close by. Riley was incredibly unsteady on her feet, whether it was from the earlier medication or her injuries, he wasn’t sure, but he held his hand out to steady her wobbly steps on multiple occasions. He glanced back and locked eyes with the maid he summoned to clean the area, and even with his dark sunglasses, he still spotted her apprehension. The interaction was brief as he and Riley reached the end of the hallway, but something in his gut said he would have to deal with that later.

Assisting Riley down the stairs turned out to be tricky, as she was in an incredible amount of pain. By the end, he hoisted her over his shoulder and carried her the rest of the way down. She didn’t yell or scream, not that it would have mattered if she tried; the party still ‘raged’ in the opposite direction, leaving the vicinity barren of wandering ears. If she got combative he had a plan for that as well, but was glad she opted to cooperate, instead of throwing a tantrum and meeting a fate similar to Tariq.

He sat her on her feet when they emerged outside and escorted her to the vehicle, quickly securing her inside. He used no restraints, but she didn’t resist one bit; almost as if she’d accepted her fate, or her body just didn’t have the strength to fight back. There were no remnants of Tariq or anyone else, but Bastien moved with fire under his feet as if someone lurked right around the corner.

Within the blink of an eye, they were at the airport, where Bastien unloaded her from the back of the car. The entire ride he heard Riley’s sniffles from the backseat, but he drove faster — to unload this package and hopefully, this would be a straightforward operation. Once she was out of the vehicle his job should be done, unless too many questions arose.

Bastien parked toward the back of the abandoned parking lot so the only thing on security footage would be Riley entering the airport. With his connections, he knew exactly where the cameras were and discreetly slipped into a blind spot. Riley could hardly stand as he pulled her from the vehicle, but that was not his concern.

He did his part — all she had to do was walk inside and leave Cordonia forever.

He shoved a small envelope into her hands and said, “Here is your ID, passport, credit cards, and a ticket to New York. It’s been a pleasure, Lady Riley.” And with that, Bastien turned on his heel and returned to his vehicle, speeding away before he could second guess his decision.

He glanced back in the rearview mirror and saw the silhouette of a woman standing there disoriented, wounded, alone, terrified, and defenseless, but quickly averted his gaze, centering on the road. He nearly pushed his foot through the floorboard to get away faster, but bile rose into the back of his throat as a chilling realization sat in; he didn’t know how, but this was far from over, and the chances of him making it to see his next birthday just substantially dwindled.

“I assumed she boarded the plane, but I later received her identification and credit cards in a sealed envelope from an unidentifiable source. I tried to help her… I really did…” Bastien finished with his head bowed.

“No, you sure as shit did not!” Drake bellowed, a mix of fury and shock written on his features. “I can’t believe you!”

Bastien flinched. “I did what I had to do—”

“Where is she, then? Because she never got on that fucking plane, Bastien!” Olivia hollered.

“I don’t know! I told you everything I know about it! I tried to find out, but I can’t!”

“This is fucking unreal.” Drake shook his head and scoffed. “You expect me to believe you really don’t know? You have her ID! Her goddamn passport!”

Bastien forcefully clenched his jaw. “I received them before the tour in a sealed envelope. I don’t know where it came from and I can't trace its origin.”

Drake scowled. “We’re supposed to believe that?” He looked away and rubbed a hand down his face, his frustration steadily rising. “Let’s say I do — you chose to keep that to yourself? You didn’t think that was worth mentioning when we opened an investigation into her goddamned disappearance?!” He over-enunciated, sarcasm dripping off every syllable.

“What was I supposed to do, Drake?!” Bastien responded, but couldn’t fathom meeting his eyes for even a brief second.

“Not be a spineless piece of shit, for one,” Olivia answered. “For two, you could’ve refused to cooperate from the beginning. Or, told the truth, regardless of what would’ve happened to you then… Or, made sure she got on the plane, at least. You drugged her and left her for dead, Bastien! Who knows where she’s at by now?! Do you realize how much time we’ve wasted because of you?!”

“I did not drug her or leave her for dead—”

“But you didn’t fucking stop it either, and that’s just as damning in my eyes,” Drake spoke in a bland, empty voice as he tried to comprehend this betrayal. “I don’t know what happened to you, but you’re not the man I used to look up to, not anymore… I can’t believe you did this and continuously lied to us about it!”

Bastien slouched. “I never lied—”

“Bullshit! You’ve done nothing but lie! You’ve gotta stop and tell us the truth for once!”

“I told you everything I know, everything I’ve done. I killed the maid and had every intention of Lady Penelope taking the fall — I’ve led you astray and tampered with evidence — I admit it.”

“I don’t care about any of that shit right now!” Drake shouted. “We wanna know what you did with Brooks, Bastien.”

Bastien sighed. “Drake, I told you, I don’t know where she’s at! She was supposed to go inside and board the plane!”

“But you didn’t wait and ensure she did, at least?” Olivia asked with an arched brow.

“I didn’t think I needed to! After what I heard coming out of that room, I assumed she would run inside to get away… If anyone knows, it’s probably that Anton character!”

“Anton…” Olivia repeated, her curiosity peaking. “What do you know about him? And the other guy? Claudius?”

“Absolutely nothing. I’d never seen them before and haven’t since. All I know is they were in charge of relocating Tariq.”

“And you don’t know where that is, either?”

“No, I don’t. I didn’t ask questions, and I wasn’t told. I ran their names in the system to see if I could figure anything out, but they’re ghosts — there aren’t even medical records with either name on it.”

Olivia scoffed. “So, why do it, then?”

“I have my reasons…” He finally gathered the courage to take a peek in Drake's direction, but when he spotted the wild blaze of fire in his eyes, swiftly glanced away.

“Yeah… Okay…” Olivia indignantly laughed. “So was this your idea, or were you working under someone else’s watch?” He didn’t reply, but she and Drake noticed his shoulders tense. “That’s all the answer I need. So who is it? Who’s pulling the strings here?”

Bastien shook his head. “That I can’t tell you.”

“You’re already a dead man no matter which way you look at it, so you may as well just tell us. If you do, there is the tiniest chance that you may receive mercy,” Olivia growled as her hand instinctively reached for the dagger hidden in her waistband.

“I’m aware of that, but I cannot tell you.”

“Bas, you need to fucking—”

“Damn it, Drake, I can’t!” Bastien shouted. He knew the pain Drake felt was nothing compared to what he’d feel if he knew the truth, but he refused to open that can of worms.

Liam remained eerily quiet as he listened to Bastien retell the events of that night. To say he was fuming would be the understatement of the millennium. Bastien’s continuous misleading and knowledge of Riley being drugged, assaulted, and potentially still in Cordonia sent Liam overboard. Not to mention, he basically left her for dead in a parking lot. Bastien did all of that; he may not have physically harmed her himself, but he stood guard, let it happen, and actively worked to cover it up, making Liam physically sick to his stomach.

The all-consuming rage he tried to control reached its boiling point. He was no longer asking nicely — he was demanding.

Liam slowly stood from his chair, the loud screech halting the surrounding bickering. He leaned over the table on his knuckles and positioned himself at eye level with his former guard. “You told her that I did it?”

Bastien’s eyes spread eagle. “I just needed to get her out of the door… I assumed that would get her to leave willingly, but she didn’t believe a word I said.”

Liam indignantly laughed, the sound sending waves of uncertainty through everyone in the room. “So it wasn’t enough to physically break her — you had to pile emotional pain on top, too?”

“Sir, she did not believe me,” Bastien reasoned. “She knew you would never do such a thing. It was only a last-ditch attempt on my part to get her out.”

Liam mindlessly nodded, ignoring the new wave of dread filling his veins. He’d convinced himself even through all this madness, when they reached the bottom of this intricate web, there was still a slight chance Riley could love him back, but that hope burst into flames instantaneously. Regardless of whether she believed the lie, he was more determined than ever to find her, ensure her safety, and make sure she knew he played no part in this. He had no intentions of hiding his prolonged negligence of the situation from her, but wasn’t willing to let her hate him over something he had no part of.

Liam took a deep, steadying breath and spoke in a low, timbre rumble. “I’m ordering you to tell me who orchestrated all this, Bastien — you owe me that much.”

Bastien remained silent for a long moment as he held his monarch’s intent gaze. Eventually, he sat back in his chair and broke eye contact while pursing his lips together. “Damn it, tell me!” Liam shouted, his voice echoing against the concrete walls.

Bastien hesitated, as he quickly planned his path from here. The potential to get caught was always there, and he thought extensively about what he would do and who to say in this situation. His secrets fueled a small portion of his decision, but the majority centered around fear. He wouldn���t be safe either way but would take his punishment from the crown. Aside from keeping his skeletons inside the closet, to defy the — others — would essentially put nails in his coffin, just waiting to be hammered in. He’d seen firsthand the carnage they were capable of; a couple of treason charges were nothing in comparison.

But if he pointed them in the right direction, it wouldn't be him outing the culprit.

The tension lingered but right when Olivia opened her mouth to push, Bastien quietly answered, “It was your father…”

The room went silent; not a single breath to be heard. Olivia took in the steadfast determination in Bastien’s features and knew for once — he wasn’t lying. And it made some sense; Bastien was purely manpower, not an active brain contributing, and Constantine had the power to force him into anything. However, she instantly knew the former monarch was not the person behind that door with Riley.

Constantine was in high demand and there was no way he could’ve slipped away from the jamboree that early unnoticed. Olivia recalled that night, and to her knowledge, Constantine retired at the same time as Liam. Plus, if they believed Liam’s out-of-body experience to be reality, Constantine was right beside him while the attack took place.

She believed him but also realized while he told the truth, he didn’t tell all of it. There was more to the story, and she intended to get any and every ounce of information out of him, no matter what it took.

Olivia opened her mouth to address Bastien, but Liam beat her to it. “My father?” He repeated, confusion showcased brightly on his face.

“Yes, sir,” Bastien softly spoke. “I know that may be hard for you to hear, but—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Liam suddenly bellowed as his shock quickly morphed into dangerous fury. “You’re still trying to lie?!”

Bastien’s eyes widened. “I swear to you — he’s the one who told me to send her back to New York.”

Liam shook his head, his face reddening with every sullen breath. “No… You’re just trying to cover your own ass, that’s it!”

Bastien sighed. “I don’t expect you to believe me, but that is the truth. Your father is the one who—”

Liam paced the small area, his racing thoughts spiraling out of control. “My father would not do this, regardless of how strongly he felt about it. This is fucking evil and deranged — he is a lot of things, but he would never do something like this to me.” He seethed. “So I will ask you one final time — who was it?”

Silence commenced once more, but Bastien eventually answered. “I told you who it was. If you choose not to believe me, that’s your prerogative. I did what he ordered me to do.”

Fast as lightning, Liam brought his fist up and connected with Bastien’s jaw. He went around the table and hit him again, and again, until Bastien was on his knees with his head dangling in between his still cuffed hands. Liam didn’t care if he killed him or not at that moment; all that mattered was exacting revenge on behalf of his beloved, even if she wasn’t there to witness it. The monarch checked out, replaced by a vicious beast — a starved one, at that.

Liam saw nothing except Riley’s face, the sound of her cries from his out-of-body experience echoing in his mind. His hand throbbed as he relentlessly took his frustrations out on Bastien, but he barely felt it because of the pure hatred and adrenaline pumping through his veins.

Olivia and Drake watched, exchanging worried glances as Liam continued his assault. Both felt incredible amounts of anger toward Bastien, but they saw the bits of truth. Liam might not want to believe it, but Constantine made the most sense.

However, Olivia wholeheartedly believed Constantine was not the one in that room. He may have ordered Bastien to engage, but deep down she knew he was not the one calling the shots that night. As Liam continued to pummel him, she had half a mind to stop him, but the person taking out his anger on his crumpled guard was not her childhood friend, and even she was hesitant to interfere.

It was Drake who finally intervened, laying a firm hand on his shoulder. “Li…” When Liam shook him off, he tried again with more force. “Liam!”

“Get your fucking hands off of me!” Liam shouted, quickly returning to his mission. Every bone that snapped underneath his fist soothed a portion of his soul, but he wasn’t willing to stop until Bastien felt even a small portion of the pain enveloping his entire being.

The door crept open and Leo went to step inside, Maxwell close behind, but halted when he spotted a bloodied and battered Bastien dangling from the side of the table. Liam continued his attack, completely oblivious to the additional presences in the room. Leo noticed the mixed expressions from Olivia and Drake and quickly pieced a vague conclusion together. Never in his life did he think Bastien could be capable of such atrocities, but clearly they found something to tie him to it.

Leo stepped toward Liam and timidly tapped his shoulder to gather his attention. “Li, we found Penelope. She was headed to the palace with orders for incineration upon arrival, but we stopped it and she should be back soon. I talked with Landon and Emmaline and they’ve agreed to send her wherever you see fit for autopsy. Ray recommended a specialist, but I wanted your input before I started the process.”

Liam finally stopped his assault and stared down at Bastien’s crumpled body with labored breaths. “The amount of which you’re willing to go to bury this is ridiculous! WHO could be that important that you would do all this — risk EVERYTHING for?!” He bellowed, his voice booming against the walls.

Bastien never answered, whether by choice or from his injuries, but a silence took over as Liam really pondered that question for a moment. This wasn’t just some measly scandal anymore; this was an extensive operation concocted to remove the top competitors and ensure he married Madeleine. At first assumption, it would be easy to point a finger at Madeleine herself, but Bastien held no allegiance to her, and the two hardly spoke before the start of the engagement tour. She held no power over him and had no way to get him to bend to her will.

And that was simply too easy — right?

Bastien’s involvement suddenly narrowed down the potential list of suspects, as Liam knew there was a very short number of people he would have no choice but to obey. Despite everything, he didn’t want to believe Bastien willingly did all of this. He expressed feeling some kind of remorse while it was happening, but he still aided and lied about it afterward, making his guilt irrelevant.

He had no reason to trust Bastien, but the more he thought about it, the more his heart accepted the tale.

The betrayal from his former guard was a lot to process, but knowing who could have ultimately constructed the whole thing shredded him into a million tiny pieces. Half of him was ready to unleash a wrath like no other, while the other half wanted to crumple into a ball and cry. His already fragile heart couldn't take the strain; right when he thought this situation couldn't get worse, it did. Someone so close forcefully took something so precious, knowing how much Riley meant to him, and it completely blindsided him.

His back hit the wall and he slid down it, clutching his chest. Leo and Drake quickly moved to catch him, thinking he was having another episode, but Liam shook them off. As everyone took in his dejection, they realized he accepted who their next subject of questioning would be.

“Leo…” Liam swallowed thickly, his breaths rapid and labored. “Tell me — tell me our father wouldn’t do this… He’s not evil, just hard-headed — right?”

Leo winced. “I… I wish I could, Li, but…” He didn’t want to believe it but with Constantine’s infatuation with the throne, he couldn’t put it past him. Their father was never malicious, but he had a control problem regarding the crown; Leo knew firsthand.

But would he go this far?

Liam let out a forceful huff of air and ran his hands down his face, trying and failing to keep his tears at bay. “I — I thought it was bad that Bastien betrayed me, but — him? Why would he do this?”

“I want to answer that, Liam, but I’m not the person to ask… One way or another, you know we have to confront him…”

Liam grimly nodded. “I know… I just — what if he is the one who did all of this? What am I supposed to do then, Leo?”

Leo remained silent for a long moment, gathering his thoughts, but was to no avail, as he genuinely didn’t have an answer. “I don’t know, Liam… I really don’t…”

[pianokantzart]

I saw this post by @elitadream for her Body Swap AU. I then blacked out, and when I came to I had written a one-shot. Enjoy! As usual, be mindful of the tagged trigger warnings.

––––––––

"Don't look so gloomy, you should revel in the fact that you held such power! You were the sole pillar that held The Mushroom Kingdom aloft!” Kamek reached out a hand and patted the great chained beast on the snout like it was the head of a small child. Mario winced and tried to turn his face away, but the enchanted shackles held him firmly in place. In his helplessness, he locked eyes with the malicious magikoopa, and blew a puff of smoke in a silent threat.

Having been imprisoned for so long, Mario passed the time learning to wield and control Bowser’s fire breath in hopes that, at some point, it would be of use. The way the heat built up in his lungs didn't feel too different from how firebrand once burned within his heart and weaved around the bones of his hands. In the dingy silence of his cell, he spat large jets of blinding orange flames, breathed tiny flicks of red embers, and puffed dark billows of grey smoke in a quiet contemplation of what all he was capable of. While his body was restrained in such a way that he couldn’t aim the weapon, the fact he could use it at all proved to be a very helpful form of self-defense against the soldiers who delivered his rations of food and water.

Once the guards had overcome the initial strangeness of Mario inhabiting their King’s body, they grew cruel, taking every opportunity to taunt the fallen hero. Physically damaging him was off-limits, but everything else was permitted, and when the usual insults escalated to spitting and throwing food, Mario finally lost his temper, releasing a billow of fire and a fearsome roar that cleared the room in seconds. From then on, whenever a koopa entered his cell, he would growl lowly and breathe smoke. This effectively deterred any further abuse…

… unless, of course, it was Kamek. Kamek was not only accustomed to Bowser’s fearful form, but he knew he was Mario’s sole hope of returning to his own body. Whatever threat was directed at him was nothing more than an amusement. “On the other hand," he continued, "you are the greatest crack in their defenses. Never before have we made so much progress in conquering a kingdom in such a short amount of time, and you’re entirely to thank for it!” “Leave me alone.” Mario had intended to sound menacing then, but despite his new voice there was no denying the fear and sorrow that muddled every word. Kamek smiled. “Oh? But don’t you want to hear about this progress we made? That the castle is falling? That Princess Peach has disappeared?” Mario’s eyes widened. The chains holding him back clattered as his massive body jolted. Fear built within him, stoking the literal flames in his chest until it glowed with heat.

Kamek appeared satisfied with this reaction. “Yes! Disappeared entirely! We expected such behavior from your brother… hiding himself like a proper coward… but we are having a good deal of trouble figuring out where The Princess has gone to!”

Mario suddenly became aware of a strange pain spreading through his body. He had, by now, become accustomed to the burning aches that accompanied being chained up for so long, but this pain was different: more direct and intentional, like a thousand little blades tearing at the sinews beneath the skin. He now saw that the wand in Kamek’s hand was glowing, the smile on his bespectacled face wider and more malicious. “Now, your body is still the property of Lord Bowser, and as such is not allowed to come to any harm.” He hummed, “Thankfully, I know a few spells capable of causing a great amount of pain without damaging the vessel.”

Mario tensed. The agony spreading throughout his body worsened, and he huffed a small burst of flame from between gritted teeth.

“So, I’ll ask this only once:” Kamek hissed, “Where do you suppose the princess has gone?”

Mario answered with a cold glare, then squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation. Kamek, having expected this, obliged by intensifying the spell. There was the initial surge, white-hot and agonizing, forcing a restrained cry, when the pain suddenly– and unexpectedly– ceased. Even stranger, Mario felt his restraints fall away, and nearly collapsed in their absence, his limbs slowly shifting in the relief of newfound freedom.

Kamek released a guttural gasp. Mario opened his eyes just in time to see his tormentor struggling against tendrils of bright pink magic that wreathed around him like serpents, until the magikoopa slumped quietly to the floor in an unconscious heap. Behind him stood the familiar figure of Princess Peach, her hands ablaze with magic that sparkled like starlight.

Seeing her in the doorway, disheveled but unharmed, scowling at the fallen foe before her, Mario was suddenly overwhelmed by fear and shame. He’d had dreams like this during his captivity, and believing them for even a second proved immeasurably painful when he awoke to find himself restrained and alone. But even if this wasn’t an illusion, everything he was at this moment was an affront to her: a strange combination of monstrousness and uselessness. His alien form complemented his own newfound insignificance, every ounce of goodwill he’d earned over the years now actively destroying all they had struggled to protect. His body fought to make itself smaller as he stumbled back, only to be immediately stopped by the far wall of his tiny cell.

“S-Sono costernato…” he began, loathing the sound of his own voice. But Peach had already crossed the room, desperate to hold him the moment she recognized his eyes. Mario felt the soft fabric of her gloves wrapped around his face, her hair tickling his snout as she pressed her forehead against him. It was difficult not to hold her in return, but Mario restrained himself. He feared underestimating his own strength and unintentionally hurting her more than he already had, so he simply stood there, basking in the sensation and taking in the undeniable reality of it all.

[tealmaskmybeloved]

I know you don’t like mochi mayhem, but can we just talk about how in that one scene where Pecharunt is revealed by Penny, it’s so high up in the air, but then suddenly it shot mochi from its shells and was able to half of it directly into the mouths of the crew with very good accuracy? Ngl that was kinda badass.

Also, that’s where my headcanon of my Au Pecharunt (Shackled Revelations) being a really good sniper (or just good with ranged weapons in general) came from.

Not to discredit Pecharunt, but he was shooting mochi into the mouths of people... with a 50% success rate.

Heck, Kieran was too short and the protagonist was... the protagonist, so yeah.

It is a pretty fun headcanon, though

[didyoutrydynamite]

In Renegate AU, how would a game of "Remnant" go? Like the one from JNRZ durables. Would they gang up on Jaune, or are they so competitive that it is free for all? Does Neo use her semblance to cheat?

Renegades: *Currently into their third hour of Remnant the Game*

Cinder: *Playing as Atlas, currently occupying Vacuan soil, her immense armada's blockading Vale and Mistral as she continued her brutal invasion on Adam's territory.*

Ah, my dear Adam, you continue to fight against the inevitable. You see, your resistance is nothing more than a fleeting illusion, a feeble attempt to defy the natural order of power. You cannot prevail against the might I possess. Surrender now, and I may grant you a merciful end. Embrace the futility of your struggle and bask in the superiority of my dominance. I promise, under my rule this world will see a new age!

Adam: *Playing as Vacuo, has long ago activated his Faction's Special Condition, where despite losing his Capital, he now can continue fighting as long as his Leader is alive and he meets a certain Morale Threshold. He is now waging guerilla warfare on Cinder's invading forces, and has started instigating civil unrest in all other factions to increase Grimm count so no one can overrun his rebel cells.*

Your words may be laced with arrogance, but they cannot smother the flame of our determination. We refuse to be shackled by your oppressive rule, for we believe in the power of unity and the resilience of the Vacuan spirit. We will rise against your tyranny, forging a future where freedom reigns and your reign crumbles. *Stands up, knocking over his chair* So, prepare yourself, you demon, for we are the embodiment of hope, and no matter the odds, WE WILL NEVER YIELD! FREEDOOOOOOM!!!

Neo: *Playing as Mistral, cheating her ass off. With her Semblance, she's been disguising troop placements, switching cards, twisting the borders of territories, and fudging every dice roll. All other players have to constantly tap the board or flick her cards to shatter any possible illusions she conjures. It's to a point where not even Neo know's what's real anymore and has gone mad with power as a Goddess of Mischief and Deceit over their tiny flat world.*

(Behold, mortals, the one who dances in the shadows, the embodiment of chaos and cunning. I, Neo Politan, revel in the twisted tapestry of this world. Through deceit, I unravel the fabric of your feeble existence, leaving naught but confusion and despair in my wake! See how the world crumbles beneath my touch, a testament to my unstoppable might. Every thread of trust unraveled, every heart ensnared by my web of lies. Chaos, my eternal companion, dances with glee as I tear down the foundations of your fragile order. MWHAHAHAHAAH!)

Jaune: *Playing as trusty Vale, a bulwark of honor and courage stands against the war torn world of Remnant. Grimm thrive and grow fat with gluttony on the horrors these lands now face. He faces riots and unrest in his city streets thanks to Adam's revolutionaries, his people face hunger and famine thanks to Cinder's blockades, and now he can't even trust his own eyes thanks to the chaos and confusion of Neo's powers.*

Guys, this is by far the most fun game of Remnant I've ever had, I'm glad we're friends. 😊

[ilariyalavorowrites]

Good Enough (9-1-1) Part Eight

Imagine: Imagine leaving LA after feeling like an outsider in your relationship with Bobby and Athena as they seem to pull away and distance themselves from you. Only to find that it is almost impossible to actually walk away.

Warnings: Angst with happy ending, AU, Bisexual Athena, BDSM

Pairings: Bobby Nash x Reader x Athena Grant

Word count: 2,192 words

Universe: 9-1-1

Reader gender: Female

Tagged:@graniairish @madhatter-crazyasahatter-blog @4everflowercore @blueskyredrosegrey @agathaharknessfan96 @ljej95@yoshinorecommends@horsedragonllama@forever2ne1@clayzayden@multifandomlesbianic

Previous/ Next

Part: 8/10

He had not expected this. It was one of the few options that he had never fully considered. It had always been a possibility, but Bobby hated to think of you, curled up in the sterile white sheets of a hospital bed. Injured and alone, such a horrible fate that he’d never wished upon anyone, let alone someone to truly care about. He was grateful for the shot in the dark that had been Michael’s message.

The man would never truly know the depths of his gratitude for such a slight gesture of kindness when he reached out. This had been the ray of hope that he had desperately held out for even if it wasn’t directly from her. It was a start, with a destination on the edge of the horizon with a logical end in sight. 

There was just one problem that stood in his way: an unmovable object. He was still ten hours away from the end of his shift. His feet were glued to the spot, as if he had been shackled down, chaining him to the firehouse. He had a duty to perform, one that he could not escape from. This would not override that sacred vow that he had made all those years ago back in Minnesota and then again when he had taken charge of the 118.

His personal desire to rush to her side would feel like a dereliction of duty, putting his own wants and needs above the proud men and women that served alongside him. Simply put, Bobby had to push down his personal feelings. However, there was one thing that he could do in a moment such as this. Pass on that information to another to continue on in his place, do what he could not, no matter how much he wished that he could. To take you into his arms, hold you close, and never let you go.

As he typed out the message, the image formed in his mind. It would be something to hold on to, to make it through the day. For now, that would be enough until he could make his way to the hospital and to her. Maybe it was time to have that conversation, the one that he had been avoiding. Maybe it was time to step out of the shadows and stand proudly in the light flanked by his two lady loves. 

No more clandestine meetings or whispered words in dark corners. An end to playing pretend and hiding what he truly felt. Bobby desired nothing more than to shout it from the rooftops. Like he had almost done under the influence in the days prior. The realisation of those heart-breaking revelations and stolen moments was almost too much to bear. For the carpet had been pulled out from under his feet with your disappearance. Bobby knew that all he could do now was look ahead to the future. One that he could see as clear as day and standing there smiling back at him was Athena with her fingers interlocked with his own. However, to his right stood another with fingers interweaved with his left hand. 

May, Harry, and Michael joined them, beaming brighter than he had ever seen before. His family, his home. This shift would be agonisingly slow, time to inch ahead, minute by minute as he waited out the clock. “I’m coming,” He whispered, urging himself onwards. He just needed to wait it out, but he would get there. He most certainly would.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fear chilled her blood and ice filled her to the brim as she made her way through the corridor. Its sterile, white-washed walls were not a comfort. Far from it, it was a harsh reminder of what she had almost lost not long ago. Athena hated hospitals on a profoundly personal level. Yet, on a more professional basis, the cop in her was awed by the sheer number of daily miracles within these hallowed halls.

Hospitals were as much a beginning as they were an end. Life started and concluded each second of each day. How close she had come to losing May, her darling daughter, within one, but that had been her darkest days. This would be far from a repeat of this fact she was crystal clear on. Bobby’s text had been straight to the point, but a wealth of information lay within its many paragraphs. He steadily relayed all that he had gleaned from her ex-husband. There was no underlying disdain or frustration at the mere fact that he had chosen to reach out to her new beau. 

To be brutally honest, she could easily see the reasoning behind such a choice. That man knew her inside and out. It was rational and coolly logical to place on such shoulders as Bobby. She would have done the same if she had been in Michael’s shoes, standing on the outside, looking inwards. Not quite seeing what lay just out of sight, but not blind enough to ignore a few more obvious signs. Instead, a warmth blossomed, and a love that never died resurfaced. This was just another occasion when Athena was reminded of how happy she was to have had those years together, how wonderful her life had been and still been with Michael. He was no longer walking by her side in the same role.

No longer the husband, but still very much her best friend and companion in the trying time that more than likely lay ahead. He was there when she needed someone. He’d always be in her life; she was impossibly sure of this. Those restless nights had cooled long ago, but the affection and love had simply changed and grown over the years for the better. She could finally see that now, as clear as day.

Michael’s messages twinned with the information she had gained from her colleague, revealing another piece of the story. The thread was twisting with every step she took, entangling her up in the web with her lover firmly perched in the middle like a spider patiently awaiting its unsuspecting prey. The only difference between the cop and the fly was a semblance of what lay ahead. She might not yet hold the true extent of the reasoning behind what had led her, but she had the drive to uncover the whole truth and nothing but the truth from the horse’s mouth.  

Each step felt heavier than the one that came before, unlike Bobby, who felt as if he was sinking to the bottom of the ocean, dragged down by the guilt of the many what if’s, unanswered questions clouding his mind as he carried on through with the duties of the day? Athena was determined, placing aside those feelings for now for a quieter moment at the end of the day. When she could simply scream into the void, releasing all those pent-up emotions, all that hurt clawing away as it tried to find a way out.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------- “This was never how I wanted things to go,” you muttered softly to yourself as you limped into the sparsely occupied waiting room of the discharge lounge. This was where you got off, as your unforeseen stay in the hospital had come to its inevitable conclusion. 

Yet as the chill of loneliness and sting of reality crept in. You had to live with your choices. You had hand selected this fork in the road. No matter how much it cut, you had done this and there was no coming back from that.

It was time to re-emerge and find your place in the world, where within society you belonged, as LA was no longer home. In your mind, you had nothing left here. This had been a delayed takeoff. This was your second attempt, but underneath the cool level of confidence that you had in your decision, niggled a small sliver of hesitation. Could you go back and hash out the issue? Fix what they had broken in the relationship. Each one of them was equally responsible for their part in the throuple’s downfall.

You shook your head, pushing the notion away. There was no way around the crack that had been forming at the very heart of the foundations. You just need to keep the thought of what was over the horizon in the very forefront of your mind. Focus on what lay ahead, not on what you were leaving behind. No matter how much it broke your heart to do so but this would be better for things yet to come. Or at the least, that’s what you continued to repeat like a mantra until it stuck.

You clung tirelessly to those words as you ease yourself into one of the most uncomfortable plastic seats ever conceived. For until the taxi that the hospital had organised arrived to cart you off the nearest train station, you would remain in this area of the hospital. With a big blue boot on your left foot supporting the healing appendage, and a few scraps and bruises littered across your flesh that were barely visible. Your mind continues to recycle the same doubt filled thoughts, but you need to focus on what came next. 

On finding a new job, a new apartment all whilst crashing on your older brother’s sofa. It was a temporary fix and a new start. He hadn’t expected such a call, but would never turn you away. The two of you hadn’t been as close as you once had been. Time and distance brought a silence and awkwardness as you grew apart. A few heated disagreements had deepened the chasm. However, when push came to shove, the two of you had been drawn back together. Blood was thicker than water and you loved your brother. The past remained firmly behind you, in the rearview mirror. 

You had already alerted him through the daily update, letting him know that you were being discharged ahead of schedule. You were starting on your journey out to him and would keep him posted as you inched closer.

The sound of the doors on the other side of the room sliding open caught your attention. Lifting your head and turning in the direction of the sound. Not sure what you would find, another patient arriving or a staff member being called away. Your eyes widened, shocked at the sight standing in the doorway. Athena Grant in all her glory. The eye of the storm was passing as the chaos of hundred mile winds returned. You would need to batten down the hatches and prepare for what lay ahead. A fight of a lifetime, one that you had done everything to avoid.

You tried to make out the expression displayed on her face, but you found it next to impossible. Athena had one hell of a poker face. This worried you, as the next few minutes could go in any direction. 

At the mere sight of her, shame washed over you as you never considered this outcome. Athena had led the charge, searching hell and highwater to locate you. Never daring to think that she wasn’t ready to let you go. If she was here, then Bobby would be that far behind.

As you anxiously played with the hem of your shirt, you waited for her to make the first move. Trying to calm your already frayed nerves, but that seemed impossible now. For there was no way out, no alternative option to escape your choice head on. As you held your head high, square your shoulders and readied yourself for the emotional, driven verbal assault that would undoubtedly follow. 

No amount of apologies could plaster this gaping wound that you had inflicted with poorly thought through choices.You hadn’t considered the fallout that would follow in the hours, days, or weeks after fleeing the very state that had your home. This had been lingering on the horizon, awaiting this moment, and now it had come barrelling at high speed, laser fixed upon the target stuck to your back. It had been inching closer, bringing you and Athena back together.

Thoughts of Bobby re-emerged. Was he on duty? He had to be. It would explain why he wasn’t standing shoulder to shoulder with the cop as a united front. How long would it be before he entered the picture? For if she knew of your location, then surely he did too. 

As sand trickled through in the hourglass, it wouldn’t be long now. Time had turned against you. This was the beginning of the end and you were far from ready, but that no longer mattered. You had to face the consequences of your impulsive actions. There was no way out, no way back. They needed answers, and you held them under lock and key. It was time to give them up.

It was the least you could do, all things considered. It was time to release your hold upon their collective hearts and allow them to move on with their lives without you in it. Regardless of the anger and frustration aimed squarely in your direction, you would soldier on through.

[vlvrie]

Zaros&fem!Listener

dark au

To faithfully serve the queen of Serulla is the task of the heiress, and she unquestioningly carries out every order, so perfectly that Zaros, in a frozen rage, breaks the sharp tip of a peacock feather with a ringing sound, absorbing the girl's gaze, full of manic resolve.

The darkness, thickening the colors of the untainted seduction of the heiress's soul, called out. The prospect of consuming her mother kept her awake at night; tossing and turning in a troubled whirlpool of sleeping hallucinations, whispering secret mysteries with trembling lips. Obedience became unbearable to the point of bone-crunching, and the girl, seeking favor in the eyes of an old friend, followed him for a long time, like an astral projection, long abandoned by the physical body due to melancholy and fear of decay.

Step, another step - it took less effort to approach him than expected. But Lady Ilves is too naive to understand that Zaros is interested in her ambition-filled eyes not only as a result of their race for the throne.

«Dance, my lady, in the fiery flames of my mad fantasy about you».

The heiress obeys.

It seems to her that someone's icy hands glide over her shoulders, closing in on her neck and cutting off the oxygen supply. Opening her doll-like eyelids, the girl, in a burst of confusion, throws herself away from the abyss of silk blankets. Her sweet nightmare gradually turns into reality.

«Kill for me».

She finds crimson streaks of prophetic signs that make her tremble. Roena doesn't understand when her own daughter managed to break free from control. From her control. Bitter strings are soaked with tears of revelation when the doll realizes: the Atha’lin family heir had appeared to her in a dream, a cunning consciousness infiltrating and undermining her.

«Be mine».

And he doesn't even need to break the girl: she's already broken. Pressured by the all-consuming chaos that Zaros introduced into her existence. The heiress cries poisonous tears, forbidden ones, carrying destructive disasters. Her hands bleed with the discharge of lightning, just by touching her own heart, covered in thorny vines.

«Embrace the darkness».

The girl, shattering the crystal shackles she has been burdened with as she wandered through the labyrinth of riddles left by Zaros, bursts into hysterical laughter, cursing her mother's name. A thin thread of lips trembles in a distorted smile, tinged with painful triumph.

«You are a clever little thing. Sacrifice the Patroness of the kingdom of Serulla, and we shall forever forge an alliance blessed by hell and cursed by paradise».

They laughed in unison, bloodied, tearing Roena's heart in half.

[thedivinelights]

Si Vis Amaris Ama

(Modern AU Scrooge/Marley)

They've had a long and winding road to get to this point, a childhood spun of fate and interspersed with romance. Nevertheless, Marley can't help but have his doubts at moments.

Luckily, Scrooge is always there to remind him

When Jacob A.T. Marley was twelve-years-old, he met his partner for the first time.

He didn’t know it at the time. A spiteful young boy, scorned from others and scorning everyone else, looked upon this blue-eyed, brown-haired boy with disdain and contempt the likes of which he’d never felt for anyone else nor held to such a standard. How dare he take the attention that was meant to be his?! How dare he come forward with his wondrous awe and a nervous countenance, as if he hadn’t known what he was taking with such avarice?! This was his territory, dense and unforgiving. He had claimed his rocky landscape with the Marley domain. The staircases and hallways were his hunting grounds, his bedroom his alcove.

This was his home. Lenore and Abel Marley were his parents. Any love directed at this intruder should’ve been his and his alone! He would choke him out! He would drag him away! He would refuse his friendship! There was no space in their hearts for this greedy, stalking, orbiting, forsaken, abandoned, adorable, cheeky, hopeful shark! None whatsoever! He would fight for his territory! 

He would fight against this… this ruinous boy!

But he made a mistake. A foolish mistake. A beautiful mistake.

For when Jacob A.T. Marley was thirteen-years-old, he fell in love for the first time.

That love grew like a parasite, a bloodsucker, a leech, feasting upon the resentment he held, thriving in the very soil of his bitterness. It crept into the corners of his heart through every shared book, wrapping tendrils around his defences through every shared lunch, and before he realised it, the spiteful young boy found himself captivated by the very presence he had once despised. Even as the boy had grown into a man and found another, Marley was content to stand to the side, even as his heart screamed its protest. He was content to merely work with him, and content to leave it at that.

But then the life that had been born had been born cold, and the affection that had festered had turned into grief of the greatest magnitude, threatening to drown the shark within its black ichor. She left him when all tears were shed and all that was left was greed. And Marley, in his selfishness, confessed five years later. And Scrooge, in his practicality, accepted it.

Thus did the Shark and the Snake blossom amidst corporate greed, falling from grace in their sins, and rising from them all in the same breath, transforming in fire and metal and fear.

Wounds had begun to heal, ignorance turned to revelation, and want gave way to fulfilment. Atonement was by no means an easy task, but they chose to make the effort. Seven years gone, and only stepped back into the limelight when the world grovelled for their return.

And through change came truth, doubts laid bare. And Marley had to ask… had he made Ebenezer Scrooge obligated in this relationship? Was it all a series of contracts, a game to be won by default, or was there genuine affection behind the cold demeanour? Was the partnership merely a shackled facade, or had Scrooge truly come to appreciate Marley's presence?

Marley hadn’t the answer.

“...I’ve emailed over the PowerPoint slides with the information you requested. Did you…? Ah, I see you got our gift. No, no, all of that money is for your cause. I know… yes, I know it’s a hefty sum, but… there’s no hush in this money, sir. Asplex Industries is reforming. Scrooge and I are making sure of that. Yes… alright then, call my secretary for any further details. Cheers.”

Marley let out a sigh of relief as he finally removed the earpiece that had been in his ear for the last hour or so. He drummed his fingers on the table, a smile twitching on his lips at the sheer incredulousness of it all. It was amusing enough to hear the poor man over the phone sounding so sceptical, but so exuberant. A million quid hadn’t been that much, had it?

“I take it GamCare got our donation?” Scrooge pushed his way into their shared office just as Marley finished the call, his partner noting the bags under his eyes, and the crease against his brow that seemed to grow ever larger with each meeting that passed.

“If the screaming in the background had been any indication.” Marley spun a few rounds in his chair, before grasping the desk with his good arm to steady himself. “Poor bloke sounded like I’d just given him a winning lottery ticket.”

Scrooge let out a weary huff, running a hand through his greying hair as he sat down next to Marley. Despite the many shifts they had made in their lives, both the good and the bad, sharing a desk had become a habitual comfort that neither of them were willing to break. Besides, seducing his way into a sitting position in Scrooge’s strong arms, Marley thought with a wicked grin, was a nice little bonus all around.

“Board give you a hard time again?” Marley asked as Scrooge slumped beside him.

“Don’t get me started. The damn thing was interminable.” Scrooge rubbed a hand across his face. “I don’t understand how Preslan can have so much energy to last through hours of drivel.”

“Glad it was you and not me.” Marley quipped, earning a wry smile from his lover.

“Ha ha.”

“Anyways, I have some time to kill.” Marley rubbed his right wrist, the bandages beneath shifting and tightening as he did so. “Want to grab some lunch? My treat.”

Scrooge took a glance at the time on the monitor and sighed. “Can’t. I have to coordinate with FULTON with Project: Terraforge. NASA’s paying us a hefty sum for this, and I need to ensure our resident AI doesn’t fuck it up.”

Marley wondered — quite often, he realised — if an artificial intelligence really could screw over a project that badly on accident, but he knew better than to dabble in the specifics and the statistics. He knew nothing of robotics or droids or golems that could terraform and transform landscapes, and he wasn’t about to pretend otherwise. 

“No worries. I’ll grab something and bring it back here. You sure you don’t want anything?”

Scrooge shook his head. “I’ll survive.”

Marley stood up and walked around the desk, pressing a gentle kiss to Scrooge’s temple. “Don’t work yourself to death, okay?”

Scrooge hummed, acknowledging the sentiment without words, and Marley left the office with a heavy heart, wondering if there would ever be a time when Scrooge would prioritise their moments over corporate obligations. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand the importance of their work; he did, perhaps more than anyone. And it wasn’t that Scrooge didn’t care; far from it. There was that sneaking darkness of guilt that would creep up on him as their past sins had manifested in dreams and cackled in his sleep. Marley never liked seeing him tossing beneath tangled sheets, being helpless to only sit and watch and cradle as he sobbed at the screams, whimpered at the wails, mewled at the memories. They were fully prepared to be dragged away in cuffs and trapped within bars when they revealed the truth fourteen years ago. It had only been by God’s grace — and the forgiveness of those they had wronged — that they were spared from such a fate.

They had been given the opportunity for restitution, but neither of them didn’t know what to do with it. A fitting problem for men who prided themselves on knowing everything.

They would not speak to each other for a few hours after that. Between scheduling, meetings, and a never-ending stream of emails interspersed between the fires that had to be put out, Scrooge and Marley’s paths rarely crossed. In the moments when they had, both would merely offer a brief smile or a peck on the cheek, and that would be that.

Marley wouldn’t lie and say that he wasn’t accustomed to such movements, but he wouldn’t say that the sting of disenchantment did not strike a heavy blow either. He hoped for more, he longed for more, and yet he received so little.

Until at last his phone had buzzed, and he saw the message from Scrooge.

❤ Smarty Sharky ❤: Did you see what Fan sent in the group chat?

Marls: Haven’t had a look.

Scrooge forwarded the image of his sister with their young lady, their lightning bolt, their love, and the smile that lit up Marley’s face could have powered those automatons all on its own. 

Marls: Ariana seems to be enjoying herself. We should visit the Philippines for ourselves one day.

❤ Smarty Sharky ❤: I explicitly told Fan NOT to buy her any chocolate.

Marls: She’s fourteen now, Eb, and she’s your daughter. You know no one can say no to her, especially her Auntie Fan. Aurora could, maybe.

❤ Smarty Sharky ❤: She’s been indoctrinated by her son. You do it.

Marls: You know I can’t do that, I break too easily! T_T

❤ Smarty Sharky ❤: Then all hope is lost, indeed.

Laughter sprung forth from him like an abundant fountain, and Marley continued his pace. He passed a lonely little lady situated on the cold steps of a Holland & Barrett, a handful of newspapers outstretched towards each person that walked by. Marley stopped and turned to look at her. The little lady looked back. A silent kinship formed between them.

He smiled as he told her he didn’t need one, and he smiled when she smiled as he pulled out a tenner and squeezed it into her hand. He told her to save it well, and left just as his phone buzzed once more.

❤ Smarty Sharky ❤: If you’re not too busy, love, can you check out this address for me? It’s an old, rundown building, but Pastelle thinks there’s potential in it.

Marley received the postcode, eyebrows raised and voice lilted, giving his response.

Marls: I can do that. If there’s another incident with me on the news, you’ll know it’s unsafe. 

❤ Smarty Sharky ❤: Please don’t joke about that.

Marls: Alright, alright… sorry, babe.

❤ Smarty Sharky ❤: >:{

The playful emoticon had been enough to make his lips twitch, at the very least, and Marley conceded to the request, punching in the postcode onto his phone.

London had often been a busy tangle of labyrinthine streets and alleys, but in the blazing warmth of August — when the binds of school and work were put on a temporary halt, and life, chaotic as it was, embraced the joyous freedom of summer vacation — there was that singular sense of contentment that filled Marley whenever he so desired to walk amongst the crowds. It was a heat that permeated the air, seeping into every corner of the city, and Marley relished in the simple pleasure of being a part of the bustling life. Men, women, and children no longer parted at the sight of him, their fear of the Snake no longer prevalent. A toddler’s curious gaze lingered on his form for a moment, and Marley wondered then what it would be like to have that, even for a moment.

He hailed a cab and provided the address to the driver, sitting back as the cityscape passed by in a blur of motion and colour. The address Scrooge had given him was not too far from their office, situated in a less frequented part of the city that held remnants of its industrial past. It wasn’t really somewhere Marley frequented, mind you. His routes had often been more central, and when he committed to his self-imposed isolation after his accident, he had little reason to leave Essex.

But for Asplex, and for Scrooge, he would go wherever he needed to… within reason, at least.

The cab pulled up to his destination, and Marley paid the fare with little thought as he pushed the car door open, expecting a dilapidated exterior with more rodents and vermin than potential.

He stepped out onto the pavement, and Marley had to confer with the driver that, yes, this had been the right place.

For in the place of abandonment, Marley had been greeted with a beautiful facade, golden accents and intricate designs reminiscent of a time long past. A queue stretched out for what seemed like an eternity, and a velvet rope marked the barrier between the streets and the grand establishment that awaited him. There were those who gasped at the sight of him — the illustrious Jacob Marley, a public sight more uncommon than that of a comet streaking the night sky — and Marley clutched at his form, pudgy and unrefined as it was.

It was rare to see one of them out and about, and rarer still to see them together.

“Surprised, Jacob?”

Marley heard his name, sensed the footsteps, and felt the heat rush to his face as Scrooge finally arrived.

“Oh, you fucking asshole…” Marley gasped, and Scrooge laughed. It was a gorgeous sound, a beautiful sound. But there was none more handsome than the sight that laid before him.

The Shark stood at last, cleaning up better than even he had expected. His navy suit with his burgundy tie and white undershirt had been tailored perfectly, smart and smooth and snug. His black gloves tightened as his arm tugged against the silk and curled his hand into a fist around a mysterious black bag. His elevator shoes echoed across the pavement, polished to such a degree that they mirrored the city lights above.

“You’re six foot four.” Marley’s filter had long since passed away. “You don’t need those.”

Scrooge leaned against a pole as his leg slowly rose. “I could take them off for you, if you—”

Marley flushed crimson. “N-No, I think we’re… you’re… we’re fine!” 

Scrooge snorted like a pig when he grabbed him with such speed, holding him and halting his attempted seduction. It was quite obvious, then, as Marley noted how Scrooge seemed to bury in and press his stomach ever closer to his own, hands trailing every curve and contour.

“I couldn’t resist, babe, I’m sorry.” Scrooge’s lips pressed a tender kiss to Marley’s forehead, and the blazing summer was nothing compared to the warmth that swelled within him as it roared and flickered all at once.

“You’re a liar.” Marley grinned. “A liar and a cheat and a monster. You are terrible. Absolutely horrible.”

Scrooge chuckled, the sound resonating in the night air. "Guilty as charged, my love. But this is a lie I’m rather proud of."

Marley rolled his eyes as he linked his arm with Scrooge’s. “Let’s hope you didn’t lie about reserving this place.”

The bouncer eyed them sternly as they approached, as suspicious as them as he had been of everyone else that passed through. But upon revealing their reservation, the velvet rope lifted for them without question. Marley could feel the leers directed at him, scrutinising and judgemental. They were all beautifully thin and fit, and he was here, soft and round, wearing a messy ponytail and arriving in ill-fitting clothes that gripped his body in all the wrong places. Scrooge could go for someone better here. He could’ve taken Belle and Dick instead of someone like him…

But then Scrooge wrapped his arm around him, and led him by the small of his back, and pulled him close. He realised it then, feeling as loved and owned as he was.

Scrooge would’ve chosen no one else. For there was no one more beautiful in the Shark’s eyes than the Snake that was nestled in his arms.

“Ignore them.” Scrooge whispered gently, his breath tickling his ear.

And Marley did, knowing that he could.

“Good evening, Herr Scrooge, Herr Marley.” The owner, a friendly German with a neatly trimmed beard, shook their hands with a fervour as he greeted them, and Marley recognised him immediately. The man had been one of their many victims in the past — a mismanagement of an old restaurant’s profits by a bootstrapper with more sleaze than sense was all that Scrooge and Marley needed to strike — and a tentative acquaintance that had become more cordial as compensation was issued and confessions brought to light.

Many had chosen to remain silent for their sake, a judgement that seemed incomprehensible, but was all the more just. For in a world governed by greed and secrecy, the truest forms of repentance were few and far between.

“Mr. Amsler.” Marley greeted back, flashing him his famous debonair smile. “You must have kept this under wraps for quite a while.”

“It’s all thanks to your Schatz here.” Amsler tilted his head, and Marley’s ears burned crimson at the end. “He said it was merely payment, but the selfishness has come clean, ja?”

Scrooge huffed indignantly, a hint of a pout on his lips. “How rude of you to insinuate that I did not do this out of the goodness of my heart.”

“Yes, of course. My apologies, Herr Scrooge. Waiving payment was your true motive.” Amsler winked, and it had been Scrooge’s turn to shift colours. “Right this way, if you please.”

He led the couple through the crowded rows of tables and chairs and up onto a grand staircase lined with ornate railings and decadent, dazzling chandeliers. The sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and soft music filled the air as they ascended to a higher level, each conversation creating a symphony neither frenzied nor discordant.

The door swung open to reveal a luxurious space bathed in dim ambient light. Plush velvet couches and golden accents adorned the room, and a stunning view of the London skyline stretched out beyond the large windows. Ever had it been a magical sight, even to those two souls who had spent all of their years amongst these views. A bar sat at the far end of the room with an array of fine spirits and cocktails displayed in crystal decanters, manned by bartenders clad in crisp white shirts and black waistcoats, while servers floated around with trays of champagne and hors d'oeuvres. The scent of rich, sumptuous food wafted through the air, teasing their senses with the promise of an unforgettable night.

Amsler gestured to a secluded table set for two in a dimly lit corner, bowing with a flourish before leaving the couple to their own devices Scrooge pulled out a chair for Marley, and he took a seat, admiring the opulent surroundings as he settled into the chair opposite him.

The waiter appeared not moments later, impeccably dressed and similarly good mannered, as he approached with a practised smile as they asked for their order.

"I'll have the Kobe beef carpaccio for starters." Scrooge began, looking at Marley who nodded approvingly. "Followed by the lobster bisque, and for the main course, we'll take the fillet mignon for two, medium-rare. Oh, and a bottle of red, if you please."

The waiter noted down the order with a gracious nod and a discreet smile before turning his attention to Marley.

"And for you, sir?"

Marley glanced at the menu, his eyes widening as he perused the extravagant offerings. "Uh, I'll have the foie gras to start, then the truffle risotto, and, um, the baked Alaska for dessert. Sparkling water for me."

The waiter left with haste, and Scrooge scrunched up his nose in coltish abhorrence.

“Sparkling water? Really?”

“It’s a good refreshment.” Marley defended with a whine.

“Carbonated water is not refreshing.” Scrooge rolled his eyes as he rubbed his thumb over Marley’s bandages.

Marley laced his fingers with his. “Says the man who comes into the office with either Starbucks or a Monster.”

“The blatant disrespect! And after all the trouble I went through to make this date a possibility!” Scrooge’s lips formed a brazen smirk. “I had to reschedule my meetings for this.”

“Oh, the horror! Whatever will Ebenezer Scrooge do without his perfectly systematic timetable?” 

Marley slapped a hand to his forehead in a comically theatrical faint, and Scrooge only held onto him tighter.

“Careful, Juliet. We’re not starcrossed.” 

Marley grinned. Crooked, goofy, unabashedly him, and stupid enough to make Scrooge fall even further than even Icarus had, carried by waxen wings.

More patrons had filed into the lounge as they ate, each addition more vainglorious and eclectic than the last, as if the whole world had gathered in unison under pretences of sophistication. It often left a bitter taste in Marley’s mouth to interact with them. He knew how to please them, sure. Mr. Adeleye’s daughter was an inspired lover of Fan’s concerts, Mrs. Gupta had a weakness for diamonds — white ones, the size of a robin’s egg — and Sir Reginald and Lady Foster would be more than inclined to cooperate if their hotel room was shared and their specific ‘amenities’ taken care of. Cuffs, massage oil and the like.

Such was the dance Marley intimately understood. If you knew what one desired, you knew how to grant them. And if you knew how to grant them, you knew how to make them come back for more. It was simple commerce. I give you what you want, you give me what I want. A transaction as old as the days when cowries reigned as currency. And he knew each patron off by heart, their desires laid bare from years of slithering through the grass of pleasantries, keeping out of sight from the moguls and magnates that prowled similar territory.

People called him an assassin of pleasure, a harbinger of delights, a viper of vices, amongst other pretty little epithets. A teller of truths who toyed with them all the same. But Marley wasn’t a killer, not really. He was a survivor. A survivor amidst the throngs of those who would tear him down, who would expose him, who would feast upon his flesh like the carrion crows they were. He had learned long ago to play the game, to dance with the devils and demons that lurked in the shadows, and to emerge unscathed, unmarked, unbroken. If he lost a small part of his identity to imprint upon theirs, then so be it; the world was not kind to those who didn’t adapt to the shifting tides.

And yet, amidst all the decadence and debauchery, there was one thing that remained constant. One beacon of light in the ever-darkening abyss.

“You alright, Jake?”

Marley startled out of his ruminations, being greeted with the concerned yet affectionate gaze of his husband. He blinked. He shook his head and smiled.

“I’m alright, Eb.”

He thought that if he said it aloud, Scrooge would believe him. Others would have. His words were smoother than the finest of honey made by the royal family’s own colony. People knew him. That’s what they all thought.

But Scrooge just stared, face set in an expression Marley remembered. He’d used it for all of his life, for as long as they had known each other since the days of their meeting. First as a shield, then as a sword, and now as a crutch to lean upon when the weight of the world became too much to bear.

“Liar.” Scrooge had said finally.

Damn it, he thought. Damned was he who loved and knew so much.

“Yeah…” Marley pulled his hand away, bandages and all. “I didn’t want to ruin the mood.”

The empty plate of baked Alaska appealed more to his attention than anything else at the moment. Scrooge continued to stare, and Marley felt like an Antiguan racer kept captive in a terrarium, observed by an indifferent biologist who knew every little intricacy of his being.

“You couldn’t ruin the mood even if you tried.” Scrooge’s voice was soft, tender, and Marley was furious with how much he wanted to believe it. “You make it better.

His husband scoffed, a self-deprecating laugh escaping him, severe and savage only to himself. “If you say so.”

“I do say so.” Scrooge leaned forward and reached across the table, both hands finding Marley’s once more and squeezing gently. “I’m sorry for being so preoccupied with work lately, and I’m sorry for not being there. I know it’s not ideal… and with Ariana away, we should be having time for ourselves, not swamped with work. But that’s not to say I think she’s a distraction, she’s not! I love our daughter! I love having her around and seeing her and spending time with her, but I also love to spend time with you, and…”

“Eb, you’re rambling again.”

Scrooge paused, cheeks flushing with a vivid embarrassment. “Sorry…”

Marley shook his head, amused as he had ever been with his antics. He told him not to worry, that he was glad that he understood, and Scrooge was glad he did too.

“I’ll be honest, though; I think I came… unprepared.” Marley’s eyes darted around like wild beasts, his sight escaping from the confines of their booth to the surrounding crowd, all dressed to the nines. “I feel like a duckling in a room of swans.”

“You’re a swan too.” Scrooge defended.

“You’re biased, Ebenezer.” Marley joked as his lips quirked upwards into a cheeky grin. 

“I am just as objective as I have always been, Jacob.” Scrooge felt an innate sense of pride at his own words, puffing up his chest to contain it. “And my analysis of the situation dictates that as the truth.”

Marley hid his smile behind a sip of his sparkling water and told his husband to stop, but Scrooge’s refusal was undeniable. All it had done was fan the flame.

“Even still, with your objective deduction…” Marley mused, swirling his glass around idly. “The fact remains that, well, I am underdressed.”

But Scrooge, as sharp of a man as he had always been and twice as deadly, leaned back into his chair with a smug grin that could only very well be described as borderline infuriating to anyone trying to win an argument against him. 

“Then allow me to fix that, dear viper.”

A bag was pulled out from beneath the table, the same one Marley had seen him holding when he first arrived, though being adamantly enraptured by other sights, he had given it no further thought. The bag itself was unremarkable — a black tote, with no discernible markings or designs, save for a small logo embroidered in silver thread. But as Scrooge unzipped it and reached inside, Marley couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation wash over him, tinged with a hint of curiosity and excitement.

Scrooge pulled out a garment, unfolding it with care and precision, as if handling a priceless artefact. And perhaps, in Marley’s eyes, it was. 

For it was a dress Scrooge had gifted him. Not a suit that choked his frame. Not a tie that constricted his neck. Not a shirt that tore at the seams. A dress. A beautiful, majestic, wonderful, fascinating dress.

A dress Marley had only seen once before and yearned for only in dreams.

It was a masterpiece of fabric and design, crafted with the expertise of a master artisan. The material was a lush forest green, reminiscent of the deepest, most enchanting emerald hues of a secluded forest glen. It flowed like liquid silk, cascading down in gentle verdant waves that shimmered and danced in the dim light of the restaurant. The neckline was modest yet alluring, with delicate gold lace adorning the edges like the intricate patterns on a window of winter frost.

But it was the silhouette that truly took Marley’s breath away. The dress hugged every curve of his body with a flattering embrace, accentuating his figure in all the right places while skimming over any imperfections with effortless grace. It cinched at the waist, drawing attention to his wider hips and fuller chest, before flaring out into a voluminous skirt that would pool elegantly around his ankles.

It was elegant, refined, and utterly breathtaking.

“Is this—?”

“—the same dress that you were eyeing a few weeks ago? Yup.” Scrooge finished, popping the ‘p’ at the end, piercing even through the din of the bustling restaurant.

“But that…” Marley’s trembling hands reached for the fabric, the handover being as quiet as he had been. There was no way… this had to have been a dream, Scrooge wouldn’t… he wouldn’t…

We’re not married, Jacob.

Those words… he knew them well, all those years ago. They stung him, cut him, tore him. He was ready to leave. The Snake was ready to slither away, to leave the Shark to his own devices. To bury the man he knew and hope against hope that he would never cross paths with him in this lifetime, or the next.

The monstrosity of his arm was proof enough. The seven years away was proof enough. The child they found in the thicket was proof enough.

But now… even through the suffering and the pain and the greed…

People always said it was the little things that mattered most; Marley wouldn’t complain if there was a grand gesture or two sandwiched between them.

“Do you like it…?” Scrooge asked, his heart drumming loudly in his chest.

Marley said nothing in response, only staring at the dress, then to Scrooge, then to the plates, then to the patrons, then back to Scrooge, then back to Scrooge, then back to—

He stood and left the booth, and Scrooge felt a drop in his stomach like an anchor sunken to the bottom of the sea, trapping him between hope and despair, fear and excitement, anguish and contentment. He’d fucked up, hadn’t he? There was no reason for Marley to stay. He gave him that choice the moment he saw the video, saw the papers, saw the pain. What an idiot he had been. A stupid, selfish, sleazy idiot. There had always been fine print. An excuse to make his husband don a dress. He promised he wouldn’t do this again. He swore it!

But then Marley returned moments before Scrooge thought to crush the glass in his hand, and he could hear the gasps of indignation that were muttered by the ones with delicate sensibilities. 

Fuck, Scrooge had underplayed how gorgeous he would look in it.

Marley looked ethereal, breathtaking, radiant. It fit him just as the tailor had intended, clinging to his voluptuous figure, accentuating every round curve, every soft line of his body, flowing as the wind through the trees, graceful and fluid. There was a light to his aged green eyes and a true smile to grace his cracked lips. Black and grey locks flowed into a bun, just as he had before everything, but a looseness and fluidity was there. Each strand framed him perfectly, not framed him differently.

There was nothing, however, dear reader, truly nothing, that could compare to the face Scrooge had made in that moment, when he noticed that the bandages had finally unravelled, tossed in the bin. Marley couldn’t move it the way he wanted it to. The blemishes that remained, angry marks and dents like reddened craters on the surface of the moon. They twisted and contorted his once pristine skin, leaving behind a twisted tapestry of scars that told the story of a life forever changed by fire and metal and fear.

Marley looked at him at last, shy but somehow more confident than he had ever been, and still Scrooge looked at him like he was the most desirable creature to ever grace this earth.

“You look…” Scrooge’s voice caught in his throat, desperately finding the words that eluded him. “...absolutely heavenly.”

“Really…?” Marley blushed furiously, the rosy hue spreading across his cheeks like the light of dawn breaking over the horizon. “I mean… neither of us are even close to being saints.”

“I know we’re not.” Scrooge finally made his move, taking each step in stride as he forced his way out of the booth, into the centre of the room, in front of people who knew him and knew Marley. “But we can pretend to be, can’t we?”

He moved impossibly close, arms wrapping around as best he could, feeling the silk beneath his calloused fingertips, gloves long gone, the scent of Marley’s cologne filling his senses, intoxicating him like the finest wine.

“Let’s just be us, Eb.” Marley responded, burying into the crook of his neck as he repeated it once more. “Let’s just be us.”

Scrooge hummed, and the strains of music filled the air, permeating throughout the lounge with its melodious, dulcet tones. He vaguely recalled the theme being of musicals that night.

How fitting that Julie Andrews and Bill Lee should serenade them with something good.

“Dance with me, Jacob?”

“...Always.”

Tagged; @rom-e-o @quill-pen @crimson-phantom-designs @ray-painter

[theboyandthepeach]

Shackled Revelations Pecharunt (My Au)

“So, how’re you doing Kieran? Ready to forgive to the others?”

"The others, yes... but not Dokutaro."

[the-new-pokespe-futures]

Ngl in your shackled revelations au, I’m imagining doku getting ganged up by the 20+ rivals who are PISSED that he killed their either best friends (or romantic partner in the case of like Blue because those two are pretty much a married couple at this point), the legendary pokemon whom the protagonists bonded with, and even a few of the evil teams like team star or yell because of the above.

also are Liko and Satoshi canon to the verse cuz I’d feel like Dokutaro would research him the most.

Actually, that does happen in the final storyline of the AU. Essentially, they are EXTREMELY PISSED OFF when they find out. However, they can't immediately go in guns blazing, they need to defeat all the mind controlled pokemon and trainers, knock every single secret base out, take out and find the 25-27 generals of Pecharunt. It'll be explained in due time. Speaking of the generals, some are actually the real killers of the protags and some have connections to some of the them:

Ethan: Ethan encountered one of the generals in Bellsprout Tower. The general proceeded to chase and attack Ethan. Ethan, thinking it’s just a regular pokemon to attack him, however, this proved to be a near-fatal mistake. Not being on the same level, his team got wiped, Ethan couldn’t even see the appearance properly for some reason, and he felt one thing that overpowered him: fear. He needed to run, and get out of here. However, due to the general’s ability to produce oil and paint that can mess with the mind (in this case, cause extreme dizziness), Ethan stumbled through the tower and barely got out before passing out. He was hurried to the nearby hospital to rest. He was still a bit shaken from this incident.

Lucas: In this AU, he's the professor's assistant, but does accompany Dawn and Barry later on, however, he does get whisked off to Hisui by Arceus and goes by the alias Rei prior to the events of the game. Later he ends up finding a 'shiny' gligar when completing the dex. Let's just say, it wasn't a gligar. That incident scarred him and was one of the few times it scared the hell out of him. The same Pokémon is also the reason why he stopped his journey (when he got back in Sinnoh) after the 4th badge as the same Pokemon killed one of his team members. So he hasn’t battled since then. He only got back into the battling after some encouragement from Dawn and Barry.

Hilda: In this AU, she alongside her twin are the heroes chosen by the dragons. She encountered one of the generals, thinking that he’s a regular trash bag when she wanted to throw her trash. She only found out when it stood up at a rapid speed upon noticing her appearance. She just finished her 5th gym badge so feeling slightly confident, she took the Pokémon on wanting to catch it, it proved to be a mistake. The general wiped out her team but he wasn’t done yet, the moment he saw Hilda, he said in clear English: “You are the one”, before approaching Hilda at a rapid speed, Hilda didn’t know what to do so she just ran. When she looked back she saw that the general was wielding a…knife? It was pretty late at night so she couldn’t see. Just before the ‘knife’ stabbed her, her brother (Hilbert), Cheren and Bianca arrived to help her. They all engaged in a brawl before the general had to retreat. Till this day, neither knew who or what attacked them.

Serena: She alongside her neighbor Calem are the main protags in this AU. She encountered one of the generals in Lumoise City, she got an invitation when she woke up in the morning in the Pokémon Centre. The invitation says that she was invited to an Opera Play called ‘The Phantom of The Opera’. The invitation says to follow a specific set of instructions to the place. The place ended up being an abounded Opera house in Lumoise city, far from any place. She was told to pay 4000 Pokédollars to enter despite the lack of the door. Nevertheless, she paid the exact amount before entering. Serena disappeared for exactly 8 days, 8 hours, 8 minutes and 8 seconds before she was discovered lying unconscious outside the Opera House. She claims to recall the events, when she woke up, there was a piece of paper in her hands that says ‘Thank you for watching The Phantom of The Opera, we hope to see you again!’

Florian: In this AU, he alongside his twin are the protags and he is the Violet side. He encountered one of the generals when he was looking for a dunsparse for his team. When he encountered the general, he was about to battle thinking it was a regular dunsparse, the general revealed the whole thing before Florian could send out a Pokeball. The general’s eyes turned red and blue, flashing through both with swirls like when he was hypnotizing Florian. When the general was done, he went back underground with Florian falling unconscious after being hypnotized. Florian woke up the next morning as his sister found him, he mentioned that he doesn’t recall anything that night. He claims to be fine but for the next 8 days, he started to have an insatiable greed for power. So he trained his team relentlessly and not caring for anybody. It only stopped after Juliana and their mother’s support helped him. Till now, he doesn’t know why he had this feeling.

Juliana: Like with Florian, same info except she represents the scarlet side. She met a general outside Levincia city. When she accidentally encountered one, it appeared to be friendly and didn’t seem to attack her, ultimately she decided to catch it. This proved to be a mistake. The general dropped its disguise and shocked Juliana badly, leaving her with some electrical burns. Her pokemon, went out to battle the general, while some helped her to carry up on Koraidon. The general quickly defeated her pokemon with ease, while the remaining got returned and Koraidon immediately dashed as fast as possible away from the attacker. However, the general was fast and was able to close in the distance, however, due to being close to Medali City, Rika and Larry were to able to deter away the general, and because of the need to conceal their identities, the general left. Once that happened, Juliana was treated for her injuries with Florian being informed of the situation.

Now, sorry if I rambled on for too long but yeah, that’s what happened. And the people who are close to the protags are royally screwed.

As for Liko and Ash, they’re not canon to this AU. This only has the main series games. However, in my trivia post about Pecharunt, this one should ambiguously answer your question

So, yes, he did actually do some research on both Ash and Liko on Bulbapedia (yes, that Bulbapedia). He’s even aware of other dimensions, AUs and timelines, you can see the post relating to his quotes. However, this does mean he’s aware of your ‘Kaijumorpha’ Au as well as ‘Scars of Black and White’. His main thoughts are interesting and ‘Ghetsis being Ghetsis’ respectively. Also, I would say if Kaijuran (Kaiju Kieran) and SR Pecharunt fought. It’s a one-sided beatdown for Kaijuran, details on his power level next time.

Well that’s all I have.

[ofowlsdinosaursanddragons]

Basically, 'Shackled Revelations' is mainly a 'Toxic Chain Possession' AU, I'm pretty sure you have seen that already. But I've also combined that with a bit of a 4th-wall break revelation, basically, I found it kinda odd that no one in the pokemon world pieced together every few years or so, some trainer from a small town, gets a starter, beats up the gym leaders, elite 4 and becomes champion at a young age, but also beats up some evil person or organisation. Except for 1, Dokutaro. He finds it odd that it has happened many times, 2 times is ok, 3 times is a coincidence. But 11-12 times? Something fishy is going on. So, what happens is that all the main protagonists are essentially Arecus's chosen, the blessing in a sense allows them to be prodigies (if you get what I'm saying). Each timeline differs in terms of their strength, and through Dokutaro's research, he dubbed this the 'Ouroboros Cycle'. However, while he's not a big fan of evil teams popping up, why are the children the ones handling the situation? He views that Arceus could easily handle it by altering the timeline, yet he didn't. So why? Thus, he made it his goal to study and analyse these prodigies souls, since that's where their 'power source' is. Later on, is where the angst happens as Dokutaro kills all the protagonists. But that's ony the beginning of their suffering.

Wowzers

talk about angst.

[korruptbrekker]

Gravity -- [AO3]

Tags: Songfic, Pining, Unrequited Love, Modern AU

Pyotr was drawn to Dmitri like a moth, stuck in orbit around his brilliance like a long-forgotten planet. He truly was more a planet than a moth--trapped in Dmitri's gravitational pull, close enough to admire and dream, far enough away to never touch.

Still you take up all my mind, I don't even think that you care like I do.

I should stop, heaven knows I've tried.

Pyotr was staring again.

He couldn't help it, he was drawn to Dmitri like a moth, stuck in orbit around his brilliance like a long-forgotten planet. He truly was more a planet than a moth--trapped in Dmitri's gravitational pull, close enough to admire and dream, far enough away to never touch.

His mind drifted to the countless letters tucked away in the shoebox beneath his bed, desparate declarations and yearning paragraphs burning a whole in the floor in tandem with his ache of his beating heart.

He pretended he was content to just admire Dmitri's glow--his brilliance, his magnificence--content to revolve around him and have the chance at all to admire.

Some days he even convinced himself it was true.

Other days, most days, he wanted so desperately to be a moth. Because even if he was burned at least he would have had a taste of that wonderful light, at least he would be able to touch and taste and revel in what Dmitri felt like.

Instead he was shackled by gravity, by fear, just out of reach at all times and unable to break the path he'd been carving into space for years.

"Hey, Tchai, pass me my phone?" Dmitri called from across the dining room, startling him from his admiration.

"Oh, uh--" He reached across the table.

"No, not there-- I'll get it, nevermind." He dismissed with a smile, and Pyotr was reminded yet again why he compared Dmitri to the sun.

He walked over, leaning over Pyotr like it was the most normal thing in the world as he reached for his phone. Pyotr's breath caught, chest seizing as he felt Dmitri's chest against his back, a little puff of breath grazing his ear.

Finally pulled closer Dmitri's gravity was ripping him apart at the seams, burning his skin, melting the words on his tongue and tearing each and every thought from his mind.

He was burning, he was dying.

There was no place he'd rather be.

Just as soon as it started it was over, Dmitri's phone now in his hand, his presence out of reach once more. He walked away, returning to the light conversation he was having with Wolfgang and Ludwig, absolutely oblivious to the power he had over Pyotr.

Pyotr's eyes followed him, chest breathless and aching in that all-too familar way. He propped his jaw on his hand, closed his eyes, and dreamed.

Some day, one day I will stop falling in love with you.

Until until I do, I'll be thinking of you.

Let you break my heart again.

[tealmaskmybeloved]

I think it felt a bit off to me that Pecharunt doesn’t seem to be related to Paldea or smth. I know it’s also the case with Zarude not being related to Galar, but it’s different. So, I have a pretty wild theory but after my explanation it may make sense.

What if Pecharunt is genetically related to the Glimmora line? It can be interpreted differently, but I wanna hear your explanation and reasoning, maybe you can add it as a lore thing for the au? Since I have one that aligns with my Au (Shackled Revelations) and yours.

It doesn't really feel like that to me. I mean, we are visiting a whole another region, it's fine if the Pokémon there feel disconnected from Paldea.

I'm not going to add that to the AU. I'm still at the point where I want to include some things and scrap others.

It's a cool idea, but I don't see it fitting my AU.

Also I don't see Glimmora opening up its shells and feeding people treats (does it even have a shell?)

[steddierecs]

dancing in the dark by Atleastwritingisfun

Word count: 32,892 (ongoing) / 5/12 Rating: M

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham, Murray Bauman/Wayne Munson

Characters: Jeff (Stranger Things), Gareth (Stranger Things), Unnamed Freak (Stranger Things), Claudia Henderson, Dustin Henderson, Nancy Wheeler, Eleven | Jane Hopper, Jim "Chief" Hopper, Joyce Byers, Jonathan Byers, Argyle (Stranger Things), Will Byers, Tommy Hagan, Carol Perkins, Steve Harrington's Parents

Tags: Genderqueer Steve Harrington, Genderqueer Robin Buckley, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Friendship, Gender Identity, Gender Exploration, Forced Comphet and Gender Conformity Exploration, Everyone Has Bad Parents, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Steve Harrington Falls First but Eddie Munson Falls Harder, Eddie 'if my girl is mad at me i'll kill myself' Munson, Eddie Munson is Bad at Feelings, Bartender/Lounge Singer AU, bar au, Drag Queens, drag culture, Everyone is some shade of queer, Steve Harrington Has a Gender Crisis, Billy Hargrove as a plot device rather than a fully developed person, Tommy Hagan mentions but only when he's being the worst, Same for Carol Perkins, Trans Murray Bauman, Frottage, First Time Bottoming, Nipple Play, First Time Topping, Bottoming from the Top, Emotional Sex, Queer Families

Summary:

Steve Harrington finally scrapped through high school graduation, a life shackled to a desk at The Harrington Firm lined up for him. He’d get the job, marry the girl, pop out six kids and die in the town he was born in.

Except he doesn’t do that.

Steve Harrington runs away from home less than 24 hours after graduation to the big city of Indianapolis. With few options ahead of him, Steve takes the first job that falls on his path; a new lounge singer at The Hellfire Club, a bar owned by one Wayne Munson and his strangely charming nephew Eddie Munson. As Steve starts to leave his Harrington roots behind, he might find that things are growing elsewhere, and there are revelations he’s not ready to unpack.

-

Project #122 of the Steddie Big Bang

[themculibrary]

Sexual Tension Masterlist

A Deep Distance (ao3) - AveryWardpens namor of talokan/shuri E, 5k

Summary: AU Canon Divergent Shuri & Namor as parents, in love, missing each other after unexpected travel delays due to running a whole nation.

Or

Shuri & Namor miss each other so badly they don't know how to act when they're reunited.

A Game of Serpents and Gods (ao3) - tacotime namor of talokan/shuri E, 73k

Summary: After Namor threatens Shuri with his ultimatum to burn the world together or go to war with Talokan, she turns his offer on him to stall for time.

“Convince me, and I will stay here. With you, and burn the world together.”

(Where Wakanda hasn't found her and Riri yet, and Shuri gives Namor a week to woo her into this insane plan of his).

Alphas Initiative (ao3) - YukiRiikus_Reading_Room peggy/bucky, clint/steve, steve/bucky, pepper/rhodey/tony E, 10k

Summary: Steve's had a crush on the most popular Alpha at his university for as long as he can remember. But when Clint starts paying attention to him, Steve can't help but wonder if it's really love, or if it's just because he's an unknotted Omega...

Call Boy (ao3) - L1av steve/bucky E, 149k

Summary: Bucky Barnes was skyrocketing through promotions at his advertising firm. Now, a partnership position is opening and if Bucky wants to see his name on the building, he needs to impress not only Mr. Tony Stark, but his wife Pepper. To do this, it takes a team, a couple to be exact. Bucky asks his ex-wife Natasha to set him up with the perfect girl, blonde, tall, thick thighs and huge tits, but with the personality that’ll get Pepper all smiles.

What Bucky gets? Tall, blonde, thick thighs…and a penis. Can this male escort pretend to not only be Bucky’s fiance but also impress Pepper enough to win Bucky the promotion? Is he going to impress Bucky enough to get him to sleep with him?

Steve loves working for his tip.

Command Me To Be Well (ao3) - tumtatumtum steve/bucky, peggy/angie E, 29k

Summary: The first time Bucky meets his new partner, he’s shackled to the wall of a filthy torture chamber.

OR

Incubus!Bucky and Priest!Steve travel through 16th century Italy hunting HYDRA monsters for the Vatican, kicking ass and trying not to fall into bed with each other.

Well, Steve tries. Bucky's mostly a flirtatious little shit.

Dissonance (ao3) - stuckybarnes peter/wade M, 121k

Summary: Wherein Deadpool is reluctantly hired to protect Peter Parker from an organization out to hunt him, with varying success on both ends and quite a lot of feelings, revelations, and identity crises.

humming with the birds (ao3) - atlantablack sam/bucky T, 1k

Summary: Sam has always had a thing for walking the edge of too much, for flying too close to the goddamn sun. Has always had a thing for smart men with steady hands and pretty mouths, and fuck if Bucky Barnes doesn’t tick every box Sam’s ever had. He should be praying for his life and instead all he can think about is the way Bucky’s mouth, his goddamn mouth, won’t stop parting all slick with confusion.

“Go on,” Sam hears himself say, voice low, heat snaking through the words. “If you’re gonna kill me, baby, let’s get started. La petite mort.” He’s so warm he thinks he’s going to burn up, and Bucky hasn’t moved an inch, every line of his body pressed against Sam’s is a taunt, a temptation.

Las Vegas (ao3) - elcapitan_rogers steve/natasha E, 219k

Summary: Steve was freaking out over his own wedding and the gang decided to take him to Las Vegas to unwind him.

let me put my lips to something (ao3) - livingincolors sam/bucky M, 1k

Summary: Bucky took a firm hold of Sam’s wrists, pinning his arms to his sides and holding him in place.

“No,” he said, trying to bite back his smile and be firm, but it was hard when Sam’s eyes were that bright, his gapped-tooth smile so wide and infectious.

Then, Sam’s smile turned a bit mischievous, and he surged forward, mouth open as it latched onto the closest part of Bucky—which happened to be his neck—and bit down.

A small moan escaped Bucky’s lips before he could stop it.

like it's the only thing i'll ever do (ao3) - howdoyousleep steve/bucky E, 39k

Summary: When Steve opens the door, Bucky feels like he’s been living in clouds for the past few days, maybe even his entire life. Steve is life, Steve is happiness, Steve is the sun. He has such a visceral reaction to seeing the Alpha that he feels his knees go weak, feels his body draw tight towards the other man, pulled in.

Or big Alpha Steve moves into sweet little Omega Bucky's apartment building and a roller-coaster build of a romance ensues.

My House of Stone (your ivy grows) (ao3) - YoureNotDoneFighting steve/natasha M, 4k

Summary: Natasha tipped her head back to the ceiling and closed her eyes. She’d come down here to get away from Steve, or at least the thoughts of him that invaded her dreams — More specifically, thoughts of them. Yet there he was. It was like the man had a radar that pointed him in her direction exactly when she didn’t want him there. If she was being honest with herself though, it was more like she wanted to not want him there.

Shameless (ao3) - Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar) bucky/tony M, 2k

Summary: Prompt: imagine Tony and Bucky flirting everywhere, in the tower, out fighting random bad guy of the day over the coms, even out in public. it started as a game to see who could get the other to blush or fluster first but it dissolved into shameless flirting quickly. eventually it's Bucky who cracks first, pushing Tony up against a wall, kissing the living daylights out of him and using that super soldier strength to pick Tony up to hold against the wall. bonus if Clint walks in on them.

Tony isn’t actually sure which of them starts it—he’d like to take credit, but if he’s learned anything it’s that Barnes is by no means a wilting flower. Besides, the start doesn’t matter as much as figuring out who’s going to actually finish it.

Strip Me All The Way (ao3) - KandiSheek bucky/tony E, 4k

Summary: Bucky can't seem to fail at anything, and it's unfairly attractive. Would it kill him to not be so competent? Because Tony would really appreciate it, thank you.

The Wrong Wedding (ao3) - Xliviaxrtega steve/natasha G, 10k

Summary: Steve is getting married. Nat had left two years before, after one drunken "mistake". Will a wedding invitation bring them together? Or farther apart?

Two of a Kind, the Perfect Pair (ao3) - stfustucky (iwillpaintasongforlou) steve/bucky E, 78k

Summary: “Can you fake it?” Bucky echoes with emphasis. “Stark needs to think he’s won in order to leave you alone, right? So what if we just pretend to go along with this plan of his for a while, and then Tony gets his victory and you get your peace. One week of indulging him with a little fake sexcation, and then we amicably part ways. You prove to him that you’re capable of being in a relationship but just not interested, and he leaves you alone. Problem solved.”

.....................

Steve is one big ball of sexual frustration and mediocre social skills, so Tony, being the nice friend that he is, goes to a matchmaking service to find him a partner. There he finds Bucky, a former Black Ops vet with a mysterious metal arm and a charming smile, and brings him home to Steve. Steve is too busy being hung up on his own insecurities to actually be in a real relationship right now, but he and Bucky hatch a plan to fake date for a week so that Tony will get off his back. What could possibly go wrong with a plan like that?

We'll Haunt This Place (The Two of Us) (ao3) - ElloPoppet clint/steve, bucky/sam E, 25k

Summary: Huh. Captain America showing up at his farm unannounced in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon with a suitcase. Somehow, not the strangest thing to ever happen to Clint. Not even the strangest way he had been woken from a nap, honestly.

[kitsoa]

IV[or]y Wall update

Chapter 29- Shackle is now up on AO3

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts

Category: Gen

Characters: Sora, Riku, Kairi, Master of Masters, Original Characters, Xigbar

Tags: Post-KH3, Character Study, Existential Angst, Meta-fiction, Theory Crafting

Summary:

[Post-KH3] [Diverging AU as of MoM]

It was his fate. He accepted the consequences when he chose to save Kairi, when he fell into the self-sacrificing poetry of his heroic heart. But the unforgiving, cruel world Sora finds himself in reaches beyond even his wide-eyed imagination and now he’s stuck. Powerless and alone. Cut off from all he’s ever known.

While each step Sora takes seems to lead him to reality-shaking revelations, a conspiracy threatens to break him. A new enemy risks total, blinding erasure. The Black Box clicks open, latch after latch. The Master of the home beckons his child closer. "What is real and what is fiction?" he asks.

Sora didn't want to know.

Start Here!