#So that got sorted quickly once I realized all the existing pieces sucked

[muffinlance]

Isopuppy Sewn Pattern Update: At long last, I've found time to get back to working on this! AKA I didn't feel like writing this weekend so LET'S GO SEWING YAY.

Current status: I have the final pattern worked out (plus or minus some seam allowance adjustments) and I've moved from junk fabric to final fabric. Hoping to get a good way into cutting/construction tomorrow. Unless I feel like writing. Who knows! Not me!

[subspencer]

the to-do list

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is worried that she’s not adventurous enough in bed. So, she makes a secret checklist of things to try with Spencer. Based on this request.

Category: Smut, 18+ ONLY, minors dni

Warnings/Includes: switch!Spencer, (sort of?) corruption kink, exhibitionism, mile high club, brief description of oral, unprotected sex, creampie, brief mentions of other stuff but no descriptions

Word Count: 3k

Spencer’s girlfriend has a secret checklist. It could be called a bucket list, of some sort, but really all of the items on it pertain to sexual acts to perform with Spencer, on Spencer, or in front of Spencer. So checklist is a more appropriate term.

The list came into existence after a girl’s night game of Never Have I Ever, in which she discovered there was an embarrassing number of things she’d never done. Some of them seemed nearly impossible to have gone twenty-something years without doing, especially when in a committed relationship. That was made abundantly clear to her when the girls pointed it out, teasing her — and by association, Spencer — for being more than vanilla.

There was no real reason she hadn’t tried those certain things — she wasn’t adverse to the idea of most of them at all. Really, it was just that she never bothered to dip her toes beyond what was familiar.

When Emily, Penelope, and Tara had nearly all ten of their fingers down after a couple rounds, she finally realized she might’ve been coming up short in the sex department. She figured it was about time to find out what she’s missing, so she made a list of everything she needed to try. And one by one, she and Spencer checked the items off.

One of the more simple things on the list, and perhaps her favorite, was giving her first blowjob. It wasn’t something she felt compelled to try with any of the guys she’s been with before, and Spencer, though he was very curious about it, was too much of a gentleman to ask for one.

So when she asked him to sit on the edge of his bed and dropped to her knees in front of him, he didn’t stop to ask questions. His mind went blank the second her fingers undid his zipper. It was Spencer’s first, too, and his fingers knotted in her hair as she took him in as deep as she could, hollowing her cheeks around his cock and swirling her tongue as her head bobbed up and down. Spencer always made pretty sounds in bed, but in this instance she envied his memory because she wished she could replay his moans and gasps from that first blowjob all over again in her mind.

Another favorite was allowing the favor to be reciprocated until completion. She figured she might just be someone who couldn’t get off from oral, because though she always welcomed Spencer to go down, she got impatient every time and pulled his head up by his hair, demanding him to fuck her already. Spencer was one to oblige every request, but he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t overjoyed when one time she never stopped him short.

There were no interruptions, no hands shoving his face away from its rightful place against her, just increasing moans and shaking legs as Spencer was encouraged to give more. She can still remember the half-moon shapes his nails left on her thighs from where he had to grip them so tightly as she rode out her high. And she definitely remembers the almost feral look in his eyes after, because since that first time he insists on doing it again nearly every day.

There were more or less a dozen other items that slowly but surely got ticked off the list.

Handcuffs in the bedroom — fun, but perhaps better saved for special occasions. Or if Spencer was being extra good and deserved a treat.

Various new positions — a reminder to stretch more. And that sixty-nine is not as easy as it sounds on paper.

She let Spencer put a blindfold on her — it was decided they both prefer it more when the blindfold is on him. It keeps him guessing.

Spanking — both of them like this one, either giving or receiving. Surprisingly, she thinks she might like receiving it a little more, and Spencer is always excited to give.

Shower sex — a bit of a logistical nightmare, yet still a weekly staple. It’s slippery, yes, but it’s also relaxing and intimate. And Spencer just enjoys putting his hands on her wet, soapy body.

Sending dirty texts — great, but Spencer prefers taking nude polaroids of her instead. He keeps a few in his wallet for easy access. And because he knows Garcia can’t hack his wallet and find them.

And there were more items that went in the same tune until there was just one left. The one she was most nervous to attempt.

She wondered if joining the mile high club was better or worse if it was on the BAU jet. They’d have ample opportunities to do it, but they’d also be surrounded by their colleagues, and there is no coming back from getting caught.

But the main challenge was convincing Spencer to do it in the first place.

The initial plan of attack was to drop some “subtle” hints. She brought it up for the first time one night in their shared hotel room, right after Spencer fucked her against the bathroom counter, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“We could totally do that in the jet bathroom.”

“Yeah, I guess the basics are the same. Cramped space and a ledge to lean on.” Spencer was completely aloof as he picked up the scattered articles of clothing from the floor, rattling off about the size and dimensions of the airplane bathroom and missing the entire point of the comment.

She mentioned it again a little later, hoping the repetition may help him catch the drift.

“What’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?” she asked, completely catching him off guard as he ate a breakfast of frosted flakes in his kitchen.

“Um.. I don’t know? You tell me,” he shrugged, knowing that whatever the craziest place was, it was definitely with her.

“What about doing it on the jet?” It couldn’t get more obvious.

“We haven’t done that, silly. OH! I’m gonna say it was in my car,” he nodded with a wide grin, confident in his answer that unfortunately brushed past the proposition far too quickly.

It was time to change methods.

The new plan was to see if she could get him turned on enough on the jet to motivate him to do something about it right then and there. It seemed easy enough.

She sat next to him on the small couch, as she always did, and cuddled up to his side as he read his book.

Once everyone was distracted, she snaked a hand onto his thigh, allowing it to rest there long enough for Spencer to get over his initial shock and relax into her touch. As soon as he let his guard down, she moved her hand up another inch or two, watching him squirm again as he fought his mind from wandering. She repeated that cycle every five minutes until it drove him insane, his willpower diminishing in tandem with the proximity of her hand.

When everyone finally fell asleep, she craned her head to press small kisses on his neck, alternating between quick pecks and lingering ones, sucking warm and wet little flecks onto his skin that drew soft sighs without fail.

“What are you doing?” his breath was raspy and low as he muttered into her ear.

“Nothing.” She kept her tone innocent and sweet as she continued to sprinkle the teasing kisses across the column of his throat.

Her hand finally found its way directly on top of the bulge straining against his slacks and gave it a gentle squeeze. Spencer grinded himself into her palm, desperate to feel some friction, his jaw slacked and pupils wide. She dragged a thumb across his length, stopping to rub slow circles over the sensitive tip, drawing out a wet spot at the front of his trousers.

But even with his skin flushed red and his cock leaking and half-near orgasm, Spencer still found the restraint to stop her from jerking him off right on the jet and ripped her hand away, placing it in her lap as if the action could permanently force her to keep her hands to herself.

“I can’t go to the crime scene with cum in my pants,” he hissed, squeezing her wrist tighter.

She smirked at the opportunity, wrapping her warm lips around his ear lobe and tugging with her teeth before whispering with hot breath. “Then put it in me.”

For a second she saw him consider it. His eyes had a dark cast, gaze flickering between her eyes and lips as he swallowed the thick lump in his throat. But then Emily woke up and it was yet another failed attempt.

She resigned to the fact that it just wouldn’t happen, and that the item might remain unchecked on the secret list. So she cleared the idea from her mind, not wanting to keep pushing Spencer toward something he clearly didn’t have an interest in, or to keep embarrassing herself by trying.

And then a couple weeks later, as the team wrapped another case up, she came back to their hotel room to find Spencer sitting on the bed, facing away from the door.

“Hey, baby,” she greeted. When Spencer didn’t respond, she crawled onto the bed behind him, placing both hands on his shoulders and attacking the side of his face with kisses, giggling into his messy curls. “I said hey.”

Still nothing. Her eyes followed his line of sight down to his hands and went wide with realization.

“Spencer, where did you get that!?” She tried to snatch the crumpled piece of paper from him, but he was too quick to pull it away.

“I was looking for gum in your purse,” he explained, reading the sheet over again in complete amusement, “but I found something better.”

Spencer was much too excited about it, bordering on smug, and she rolled off the bed away from him in annoyance.

“Is this what I think it is?” She remained silent, suddenly feeling very insecure about the note. “Did you... did you make a list of things to do in bed?”

“You weren’t supposed to see that, it’s so stupid.”

“Hey, who said it’s stupid?” He tugged on her fingers, pulling her back onto the bed next to him. “I just wanna know where it came from.”

“Well... when I went out with the girls, we started talking about all the things we’ve done…” she paused to see if Spencer could guess where this was going, and of course he didn’t, “... in bed. And I hadn’t even done half of what they have, so I wrote some of them down. I — I wanted to try them with you.”

“So you… you’ve never done these with anyone else?” Spencer’s eyes widened as he pieced the puzzle together. He looked down again at the discarded sheet laying on pillows, his pride swelling at how long the list was. “I’m the first?”

She nodded in assent and no sooner was Spencer pushing her back flat against the mattress, settling his body on top of hers.

“God, that’s so hot,” he spoke into her neck as he sucked purple bruises into it, allowing his hands to roam freely under her shirt. His nimble fingers made quick work of her bra clasp, pulling the hem of the top up to attach his lips to her exposed nipple. He rolled the other in his fingers, tugging gently as she arched into his touch, rolling her hips up to grind against his. He groaned and pushed back, nestling himself perfectly between her legs.

Suddenly his motions halted and he popped his head up, looking at her with wide eyes and freshly ruffled hair. “We haven’t finished the list yet!”

“I — I didn’t think you were interested in the last one.”

“If my girlfriend makes a list of ways she wants to fuck me, I’m interested.”

A devilish grin took over her face. “Well, we fly home tomorrow.”

And true to the plan, they arrived on the jet the next day with at least a vague sense of strategy: wait until everyone is asleep then go at it in the bathroom. It wasn’t the most elaborate of plans, but there wasn’t much else to think of.

Except for the possibility that the others might not go to sleep.

The flight was already halfway through its journey and everyone was still wide awake, and Spencer was growing incredibly impatient. Perhaps even more than his girlfriend, now that he knew this would be part of a long list of things he got to be her first for.

That fact seemed to encourage him, the thrill of forever being her first at something. Never mind that she’d be his firsts, too.

Spencer’s not stupid, he knows that bending her over the bathroom counter while everyone is awake to hear it is a horrible idea. But his willpower doesn’t extend far enough to stop him from dropping his hand to her exposed knee, rubbing it softly just to be able to touch her. It seemed innocent enough in case anyone might see.

He kept his eyes on the open book he was pretending to read as his fingers traced the inside of her thigh, pushing up the hem of her skirt ever so slightly.

He inched his hand up and slowly spread his long fingers apart until they covered the length of her inner thigh. The tips stopping just below her cunt, delicately tracing lines back and forth parallel to the seam of her underwear.

And she quickly discovers there’s no taste worse than your own medicine. There was gentle brushes and concealed touches, all the things that she did to him. But where Spencer would’ve stopped her teasing before it got too far, she wouldn’t have done the same.

She covered up his hands by bringing her own down to her lap, silently encouraging him to continue unseen.

Spencer looked down at her through his thick lashes, bottom lip stuck between his teeth. Looking for more confirmation that she wanted this. The answer came in the form of her shifting subtly down the seat, pressing her clothed pussy firmly against his hand.

His cock twitched against the confines of his slacks when he felt the damp patch on the fabric. His knuckles brushed against her clit and her knees clamped shut, holding him in place as she brought her lips close to his ear to let him hear her soft whines.

He has to put his book over his lap to cover how hard he is, and it almost makes him regret starting this game. Almost.

Because just as she starts desperately grinding against his hand, squirming for more friction, he notices that everyone’s asleep. And then it’s a race to the bathroom, Spencer positioning her directly in front of him to cover his bulge as they stand up.

Their mouths are on each other before the door even closes, her hands wasting little time in going for his zipper. Both desperate to have each other after all the anticipation. She immediately perched herself on the countertop, spreading her legs wide so Spencer could fit in between them, just like in that hotel room. A confused whine fell from her mouth when he lifted her off from the ledge, interrupting her plan.

“No. Like this,” he growled, turning her around and pushing her hips against the edge of the counter, bending her over it. She muttered a “Fuck,” under her breath as he pressed his cock against her backside, knowing he preferred this angle because he could get deeper.

His lips trailed down her neck as he tugged the skirt up to her hips and pulled her panties to the side, running his cock along her folds to gather the wetness that had been pooling there.

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet.”

He quickly inserted his thumb into her mouth to stop any sounds from escaping before lining himself up. Her moans vibrated against the digit as he slowly pushed in, stretching her out and letting her adjust before starting to move. Slowly and deliberately, at first, then quickly gaining speed.

She pushed her hips back to meet his thrusts until he pinned them against the ledge with his own, holding them still so he could set his pace faster.

The hand that was resting on her waist came up to her chest, groping at the flesh over her blouse. Her spine arched into his palm, bending forward to give him more leverage to get deeper to that spot inside her repeatedly.

He alternated between a few quick thrusts followed by a deep one, holding himself there for a moment before repeating.

Her cunt tightened around him as he held still against her, applying firm pressure to her spot with the head of his cock.

“Fuck, do that again, please,” he grunted against her neck, pushing his hips into her ass with bruising force to get impossibly closer. A loud whine nearly escaped her lips as he did so, the motion sending her over the edge.

She sucked harder around his thumb, using it to keep her cries at bay as she reached her climax. Her walls fluttered around him as she did, giving him exactly what he needed.

“Remember what you said before, baby?” he hummed in her ear, “Do you still want me to cum inside you?”

“Please.”

Immediately his thrusts became erratic, hips snapping forward a handful of times before he spilled into her in hot spurts, biting down on her shoulder to stifle his moan as he came.

Still heaving from the comedown, he pulled her panties back on, using the fabric to keep his cum from spilling out.

She turned to feverishly attach her lips to his, panting into the open mouthed kiss. When they finally broke apart, both looked completely wrecked with swollen lips, flushed skin, bruised necks. Still, they tried their best to fix themselves, straightening out their rustled clothes and smoothing knotted hair.

Before Spencer turned the door handle, he pulled her side into him, pressing a kiss onto her forehead. “We should make another list.”

.

.

.

taglist: @suburban--gothic @ssa-sarahsunshine @mercy-burning @reidspurple @mediocre-writer @honeyboysteezy @ssa-m-187 @calm-and-doctor @drayshadow @s1utformgg @you-sunshine @altsvu @reidtheprettyboy @goose-eats-god @sonnydoesrandomshit @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @amoeebaa @reidingmelodies

[hotdamnhunnam]

I Wanna Be Your Slave

A/N: Here’s the next requested fic from my Dirty Little Secret – Super Kinky List! In which you and Jax are locked in a cellar and he ties you to a whipping post and whips your ass lol. Master/slave roleplay but in this fic (unlike some of my other Kinkfest fics...) Jax is actually a good guy not an absolute asshole. Title is inspired by the Måneskin song at the below link! **Please note the warnings: This fic is all about the kinks, please do not read if this is not your thing!!**

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, rough sex, light choking, degradation, dom!Jax, bondage, master/slave kink, spanking, whipping Request: This Dirty Little Secret request (anon)

Word Count: ~3.8k

Note: As explained in this post, this ‘Dirty Little Secret’ series consists of fics that I had originally written for another character/celebrity, which I’m repurposing for characters of Charlie! So if the characterization ever seems a little off please don’t judge me too harshly 🙂 ALSO note that this fic is just straight up shitty – I wrote most of it years ago without giving a fuck and am not bothering with improving the quality, I sort of used to rhyme back then but not consistently so it’s a shitshow really, I’m just shoving Jax into the setup for this fic with zero context literally, and I realize that the kinks in this fic are totally not mainstream and super filthy, so for once it’s really refreshing that I’m not gonna be sitting around hoping that people will shower my writing with praises or that this fic will explode in popularity 🙃

**Please note warnings above**

Triggering content after ‘Keep reading’ cut…

***************

You're trapped in a cellar. 

With Jax Fucking Teller.

There's a whole fucking story behind how the two of you got here—some shit involving stolen guns, some rival gang that hates the Sons, your father being all politically significant and powerful enough that you're now being held as ransom—and honestly you should be crippled with fear. But this tall blonde bastard is so fucking handsome. You've been crushing on him for years. And nothing else matters right now when you're so fucking horny for him that you're damn near to tears.

He looks and smells goddamn divine. You know that's not the kind of thought that should be running through your mind. Not here, stricken with fear for your safety. It's crazy. But losing yourself in desire for Jax just feels... fucking unreal. So damn good. Better than it should. It's comforting, or something. Dangerously comforting. In his presence, you don't even care if it doesn't make sense.

Ever since you got stuck in this mess, you've been clinging to him in the darkness. Clutching his flannel-clad arms in a tight grasp which quickly turns into a desperate caress. Through the cloth you can feel the incredible bulge of his biceps and God it's just...

"It's okay, darlin'," he says. Shifts to give you the comfort you crave as you bury your face in his broad sculpted chest. Presence warming and calming. Even after what's happened this morning, you somehow feel safe in the arms of the crown prince of Charming. It's totally fucked to be honest. "Hey, I'll get us out of this. Promise."

The silent answer in your head is beyond shameless. But here with your cheek pressed against his firm pecs... shuddering in bliss as you breathe in his mouthwatering manly essence... flooding between your legs, 'cause he is pure fucking sex... you could honestly just live and die in this man's godlike presence. You bite your tongue to fight the shit you really want to say, keeping it back. Please don't, Jax... don't get us out of this—I want to stay...

Neither of you has any clue yet that you're bound to serve Jax Teller in this cellar as his filthy little slave today.

With one hand still gripping his strong upper arm you reach up with the other, wrapping it over his leather-bound shoulder, clasping at the back of his neck and clinging to his strong sturdy body like ivy to brick. You can feel a faint layer of sweat on his neck that you're instantly dying to lick.

Your senses are reeling. Here, with him as you give voice to a wild irrational fear, you can't deny that dread isn't the only thing you're feeling. You'll take life-threatening danger if it comes with the reward of you and Jax fucking. "... are they gonna sell us as sex slaves or something?"

The hottest sound you've ever heard bursts softly from his throat. It's low and quiet, caught between a breathy laugh and breathless groan. You bite down on your lip then to stifle your own slutty moan. His bright blue eyes meet yours and you can feel the heat burning beneath, and from the way his tongue traces along the edges of his teeth, you can tell the answer to your question is no.

That's not the answer you want, though. It's precious that Jax doesn't already know. Some part of him probably does but hell if it won't take a little more for him to let it show.

You're gonna give him more than just a little more.

With a bat of your lashes, your flirtiest dirtiest smile flashes; you drop to your knees before him like a whore.

"Oh f—" he mutter, too shocked to even utter the full curse, sapphire eyes wide in wonder, "what are..."

"Practice," you purr as you lick your lips, eager hands framing his hips. "If I'm gonna be a sex slave then I think I should practice performing... service..."

Jax sucks in a sharp hiss as you bury your face in the crotch of his jeans, massaging his dick through the denim with your doting mouth till he's harder than he's ever been.

"Practice makes... perfect, doesn't it?" you say as you savor the smell and the feel of his meat. Good enough to eat. "Though you already are, Jax. Every inch of you is perfect. That's a hard fucking fact."

Jax throws his head back, huge cock throbbing with a luscious twitch. "Son of a bitch..."

"Mmm, make me your bitch, Jax. Please. I wanna be your slave. Serve you in every way. It's what the slut inside me needs... and craves..." you shamelessly confess as your hands set to work on his fly to unleash the glory of Jax Teller. "Nothing else even matters today. We're here now all alone together, in this shady little cellar..."

When his cock springs free you could swear that this piece of meat is your entire life's purpose. All set to be worshiped and serviced, because his delicious existence demands and deserves it. He's so. Fucking. Perfect.

You gaze up at his gorgeous face as you melt in his presence, and finish your sentence. "... so let's make it fucking worth it."

*************** 

The first order you take from Jax Teller, as he finally falls into his role as your master right here in this cellar... is to get your filthy hands off of his dick. You are not to touch it till you've fucking earned it. Like a dog, like the bitch that you are, he tells you to just sit. 

To stay down on your knees and to not move an inch, not even turn your head as he strides toward the far wall behind you, brutally keeping his beautiful self beyond your field of vision for a minute. 

You bite your lip, listening to the footsteps and movements that he won't let you witness. Rustling noises. You hope that he's stripping off his stupid clothes. That when you see him next, he'll be towering over you gorgeously naked.

And God yes, he is, when he returns at last to stand before his bitch. You groan in sheer bliss as your awestruck eyes try to take in every last flawless inch of his smooth, glowing skin. There is just... too much perfection. You couldn't even process the divine glory of Jax in a whole damn lifetime, let alone one split second.

Hypnotized though you are by him, your gaze then shifts to notice what he's holding, and... holy shit. Apparently he hadn't gone to the far wall just to undress. 

He had taken stock of the supplies and other items stored down in this shady cellar and he has returned bearing gifts: a coil of rope, long and thick, and a wicked-looking leather whip.

"Like what you see, huh?" he taunts, no doubt referring to both his new toys and his nude body, especially his dick. "Kinky little bitch. Now get up and strip."

"Yes, Master," you blurt out, rising to your feet, hastening to obey his order.

"Bad slave. You are not to speak until I say you can," Jax commands, taking a deliberate step toward you. With both rope and whip clutched in one fist, he reaches to cup your chin with his other hand. "Do you fucking understand?"

Fighting your burning urge to scream yes sir, somehow you keep your lips sealed and just nod your head.

Jax's blazing blue gaze devours your face as his fingers descend to frame your jawbone, then to close around your throat. "That's a good slut. Keep that dirty mouth shut. Or else you're gonna suffer some serious punishment."

Fuck—hearing him talk like this, while he strangles your neck in his dominant fist, is too much. You've become a trembling mess beneath his touch.

"Mmm, look at you shaking. Desperate piece of shit. I'm starting to think that maybe punishment…" he whispers in your ear as he tightens his grip around your neck, "...is what you fucking want."

Oh God, your inner voice grunts, struggling not to say it aloud. In the most painfully perfect way, the fact that he's choking you now actually makes it easier to stay silent.

His husky growl and twisted words are sending waves of pleasure through your body, hitting all the spots you never knew you had and soaking up your cunt.

"Yeah, you're begging for it. Already ignoring your master's orders. Disobedient bitch," he scoffs, shoving you up against a nearby wall, his every movement rough and quick. "Didn't I tell you to strip?"

Before you can even manage to nod at him, still just staring, Jax's hand drops from your neck down to the fabric of the fancy buttoned cardigan you're wearing. Your daddy is rich, so you typically dress like a spoiled little bitch.

"Need me to show you how to do it? You that fucking stupid?" he sneers, suddenly yanking it off you with just a few effortless jerks of his wrist. "Now take off the rest. And then go stand against that beam. Hands on the wood, head down, with your ass facing me."

Jax steps away, sharp blue glare dark and daunting as he watches his slave scurry to obey. In a matter of seconds, your clothes and shoes have been flung off, and you practically throw yourself against the wooden beam, grabbing the jagged surface desperately, wincing as the splinters graze your fingers. Even that sharp little sting feels good, because this is what Jax wanted.

You keep your head bent low, bowed submissively per your master's orders, breathing shallow as you feel his presence coming toward you from behind, steady and slow. A gasp slips past your throat when you feel his calloused hands upon your wrists, binding your hands to the beam with the thick, heavy rope. The knots securing you in place are strong and tight, expertly tied. This must not be his first time doing this, you realize, beyond turned on by his well-practiced dominance. By just what a masterful master he is.

"Mmm. You look so fucking pretty like this," he rasps, leaning over your body with his massive cock grinding into your ass, sliding against the crack so that you can feel the tip of it, swollen and wet, hovering over the small of your back. One of his hands tugs at your hair, arching your neck backward a bit as his lips attack the soft skin of your throat in a harsh, biting kiss. "Beautiful baby girl, all bound up naked and aching to be punished. You gonna take it? Good and hard, just like the slave you know you are? Gonna be a good little bitch?"

His hot mouth teases at the corner of your lips, knowing how badly you want to kiss him, to taste him, fucking torturing you with it. Though his firm grip on your hair is anchoring your head right where he pleases, you're sure that he can feel the way you struggle now to bob it up and down, to give him your wholehearted yes.

"Yeah, that's it. Ever done this before, you dirty whore? This sweet ass ever taken a beating?"

You're not quite sure how to answer that—certain guys from your past have given your ass a few smacks, here and there, when you asked... but you don't know if that kind of thing really counts as a beating. The dynamic with them was never nearly as brutal and degrading. And they had only ever used their hands; no toys or torture instruments.

"Can't even answer the question? Dumb little bitch," Jax snickers as his face moves away from your neck, standing to his full height behind you, then stepping back so that his dick is no longer brushing against your crack, leaving you feeling emptier than ever at his absence. "Not that it matters. 'Cause I'm sure you ain't ever been beaten like this."

Ohhh shit, you think, inhaling through your teeth with a loud hiss as you feel the first soft touch of leather on your skin, his wicked fucking whip. For now he is just devilishly teasing you with it, tracing lines down your back with the tip.

"This what you want, slut? Gonna need to hear you beg for it," he orders, his other hand still tangled in your hair, pulling your skull more sharply back. "Go on. Open that filthy fucking mouth and tell me what you want."

"Thank you, Master," you whimper, letting all your shameless words fall out. "I want you. God, I want you to beat me. Hurt me. Please. I want pain, if it will bring you pleasure, sir. I want my punishment."

"Mmmmn," Jax growls, clearly incredibly aroused, and you could seriously cum just from that sound. "Bet you do, bitch. Let's see just how bad you want it, huh? See how wet you've gotten. Needy little cunt."

You've already been dripping now, for more minutes than you can count. The next sound you hear is a soft thud, which you're guessing is the whip having been cast down to the ground. Jax needs his right hand free to start going to town on your pussy.

The words that have just come out of his mouth, coupled with the feeling of his fingers making contact with your slick mound, sliding over your clit, slipping into your slit and stirring you up, swirling your wet heat around, then plunging three digits in knuckles deep, pushing in and back out slowly first before he starts to fucking pound... this just brings all the walls inside you crashing down. Floodgates in you burst open on the instant as your arousal uncontrollably gushes out. It's killing you to stay silent through all of this, but you don't dare disobey his orders, don't dare make a sound.

"Holy fuuuck," Jax grunts as he pulls his hand off of your cunt. "So wet. Tight pussy squirting all over your master. Such a dirty fucking slut."

He reaches over you to shove his sloppy, sticky fingers in your mouth, your cheek pressing against the wooden beam, as you obediently suck them clean. You're not usually one to enjoy your own flavor that much, but fuck, it tastes better than ever now that you are being fed by him, the sex god of your dreams.

Then as soon as his fingers pull out, he leans in and angles your head toward him so that he can kiss your mouth, and holy—wow. 

You know right away that you could never get enough of the feel of his full, luscious lips against yours, the taste of his talented tongue as it fucking invades and explores. He hums and groans into the kiss, sending resonant vibrations of his dominance down your throat and all over your mouth, and damn, you kind of really want to die right now.

But you don't. Of course, not yet. More than anything you're still desperate for your punishment.

"Fucking perfect little slave," Jax snarls as he pulls away, and you can hear him squatting down behind you to pick up his whip. 

Before he does, while he's down there on his haunches, he takes the chance to manhandle your ass cheeks, groping firmly and then biting down on one of them, pausing to admire the mark that he made on your flesh with his ravenous teeth, then giving that spot a wet, open-mouthed kiss, and finally a sharp, stinging slap. Your knees buckle from how much you fucking liked that.

"Slut," he chuckles as he gives that cheek a few more smacks, each harder than the last. He makes sure to give the same sweet kinky treatment to the other cheek, biting and kissing then spanking both halves with his big, sturdy hands before he finally picks up his whip, one palm still groping your ass as he stands.

"Ready to feel this whip lashing your pretty little ass?" Jax dominantly asks. "Tell me, slave. How many do you want."

You're so blissed out right now that you barely have control over your lolling tongue. "Uh... uh—a lot."

"That's not a number, slut. Give me a number you can fucking count."

"Ughhhh..." you groan out as he trails the strip of leather wickedly against your ass, "...umm, a hundred?"

A soft laugh escapes his throat. "That's cute. You must be new to this, darlin'. I'm not about to beat you dead."

Some part of you right now kind of likes the sound of that. Which is maybe... sort of... bad? Jax is still talking, so for better or for worse, you don't have time to dwell on that.

"I can do a hundred. But only if each one is... weak... and soft..." he tells you, bending over your body to press his lips against your face again, kissing your cheek, tender and sweet. "Is that what you want? Or does this filthy bitch want it hard?"

His mouth has descended to bite down on your neck as he says it, causing you to cry out in bliss. "Fuck yes, please—hard!"

Jax huffs out another sexy little laugh. "That's what I fucking thought. I'm gonna give you ten to start," he offers, leaving wet kisses on the smooth skin that he'd bitten. "Ten nice and hard. That sound good, baby girl? And you just tell me if you want more. Or... if it's too much, if you ever want me to lighten up, or stop—"

"I won't," you blurt out. "God, Jax, I want... I need you to just fucking beat my ass off."

"Mmmn. Babe, you are fucking amazing, you know that?" he growls, fondly nuzzling your neck for a second before he pulls back, standing behind you, with his rock hard cock once again hovering over your crack. "But Jax ain't my name right now. Is it. What do you call me, slut."

You cringe at your own unforgivable error. "Master. I'm so sorry, sir."

"Yeah, you better be, bitch," he snarls, as the whip that has been gliding delicately over your body suddenly lifts away from your skin. "Fucking take it."

Holy—fucking—shit. The sharp, searing pain that you feel in that instant is so goddamn perfect. Electric, explosive, exquisite. Everything Jax is. Your life as you know it is finished; you live only to serve and to worship this god of a man who deals out such sweet punishment. You love it. You love him.

The rugged velvet sound of his voice in this moment just deepens your love for him, heightens your pleasure. "Count 'em for me, whore," he orders ruthlessly. "Want more?"

"One... Thank you, sir," you sigh, hazy from the incredible high. "Please, Master. More."

For a hell of a long time, Jax gives you everything you beg him for. And every second of the pleasurable pain is so damn dirty, so damn pure, completely perfect. But you both know that, given what a desperate slut and dedicated slave you are, you will literally never want him to stop. So Jax is the one who hits pause, when he decides he should. 

You never wanted it to end, but this is what your master wants—so as much as it saddens you, still you just give in, and still it feels good.

"Damn, baby," he breathes, dropping the whip, gently kneading your ass as he leans down to leave a trail of kisses up your spine with his soft, sinful lips. "Guess I should've known better than to ask you for a number. Such a good little slave. But we're gonna stop here, okay?"

"Yes, Master," you whisper.

"You know why we're gonna stop?" he teases as his mouth reaches the back of your neck. "It's not just because I'm done with beating you. Nah, the real reason is that... there's something even better I've been dying to do."

Part of you already knows what it is. And all of you wants it. Needs it.

Jax tilts your head to claim your mouth in a kiss, as his huge dick aligns with your soaking wet slit. "Mmmn. That's it, bitch," he moans into your lips. "Gonna fucking fuck you."

Every damn thing about Jax Teller is literally magic. So, as his massive cock basically breaks your body in half, as his heavy balls slap up against your cunt with each ferocious thrust so hard and fast, as his dominant hands grope and grab all over your just beaten ass... every inch of you feels so damn blessed upon contact. 

You can't imagine any better way to recover from your punishment. Not that you ever really want to recover from it—mostly you just want more and more of it—but no matter what you want, healing is what you need. 

And Jax heals just as well as he hurts. Even better, in fact. 

Once he's done fucking your pussy rough and dirty, shooting his divine cum deep inside you just the way you beg him to, he unties your ropes and then spends the next hour or so kissing and caressing and cuddling with you, massaging your ravaged ass cheeks with his hands and mouth, taking you to heaven when that sweet mouth eats you out, and even when he lets you worship his cock the way you've been dying to do, even when he grabs your head and fucks your face before he explodes down your throat, even then it still feels like healing. You both really needed that feeling.

He lifts you up to kiss you, deep and slow, on the lips before you are even done swallowing his cum. You let yourself drown in that beautiful face, hoping that Jax knows how damn good he tastes. How perfect he is in every way. That he is a fucking god, that everyone on earth should kneel before him as his slave.

When the kiss finally ends, as you both try to catch your breath for a few seconds, the cold hard fact of your predicament sets in again.

"We should probably put some clothes on, babe," he says, coming down from the high of his sex-heated haze. "Then I've gotta work out a way to escape."

You can tell that Jax sincerely meant it, when he'd promised he would save you from this place, and you don't doubt it for a minute. 

Still, there's no denying that you two are stuck in the middle of some serious deep shit. But after having experienced such punishment and pain and pleasure, such submission and service, such sex and love with Jax Teller, today down in this cellar—which you're pretty sure would not have happened under any other circumstances ever...

"Well," you sigh, breathing in his scent for what you hope won't have to be the final time before you die, "whatever happens next, Jax, this was..."

"Definitely," he cuts in to interrupt you with a few passionate kisses, then smiles down at you so devilishly it's delicious. So hellish it's heavenly. Finishes your sentence and it's just so fucking perfect. "Fucking worth it."

***************

… Sooo I know that was SUPER kinky shit, but I hope there are some filthy bitches who enjoyed it, and would love to hear if you did!! 😅❤️

– Main Masterlist

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[voidcat]

– rushed whispers

wc: 1.3k + 0.4k ; warnings: (implied) smut, so,, suggestive at best ig

a/n: ik thats not what the anon wanted w I Bet On Losing Dogs but it was nice to put it on repeat while writing this.

It begins like a faint melody, soft and gentle.

A tone of sadness always lingers, a possibility of what could’ve been and the ‘what-if’s; though it never leaves a bad taste, just… distinct.

Like swaying to an old tune, his breath dances on your skin, your hands fumbling with his vest.

Little words spoken, sounds filling the air, the specifics always blur by the time you cut to the chase. The locations do not matter, neither is picky. It’s spontaneous, exciting, the risks keep it going and making your chest race with the possibilities.

So little spoken out loud when there is much to be said and discussed.

In its entirety, it’s just the noises that fill the air, fingers working ever so quickly; skins touching, tracing, nails sinking and marking. It’s just his breath fawning over your ear and your lips on his neck, words have long lost their meanings, as always.

A wordless agreement of sorts. It’s never discussed, nor planned. One seeks out the other and you begin tiptoeing around each other again. Almost like a dance in the dark, that’s how it feels, with your eyes barely open but never off each other, relishing in the pleasure, it ends as it begins.

And Dazai, he never takes his eyes off you. Yet there’s so little light, so little spark in them. Hints and traces of various degrees of emotions flow endlessly but they look exactly as you feel in such escapes, like a veil pulled over, no room for a source of light. Sometimes you wonder if he even possesses a heart.

It’s silly, how on one hand your minds hazy and on the other you think such things. He might think of the same things for you, for all you know.

But you never will, and that’s exactly the point.

Dazai is good at many things and keeping this strictly as intended is one of these.

Grab the bolo tie and pull him in, he’ll be latching on to you instantly. Teeth and skin, he is everywhere. It’s rushed, it’s deep, there’ll be marks in the evening and neither ever really cares.

Isn’t this the point? To not care, to not be attached. Simply a business affair on pleasure. What better way to ensure your colleague will be on his top performance than to make sure of it yourself?

No feelings or strings, they say, but none of it was ever discussed since the beginning. How could any of it work if feelings weren’t a part of it? Every time a new surprise, be it rough, gentle, attentive or selfish. You suppose it’d never be what they call “love making” but then again, that’s not what either of you are craving.

Love isn’t needed when you get to feel every other emotion to feel there is.

“Hey, would you come out for a sec?” It’s as easy like this to get you outside. And next your back will be pressed against the cold surface. He’s onto you in an instant, his warmth making up for the cold that’s growing. While he is busy with your neck, your hands start with the practiced routine.

By the time the buttons come undone, he moves on from your neck, impatient as ever. Still, he often holds the back of your neck during these, and he is careful with the pressure he is applying, making sure your head never hits against the wall, tilting your head while considering the angles to your comfort.

Your mind grows foggy, such is the effect of Dazai, and despite it, you cannot stop thinking. Of all the small details, gestures, what goes on and doesn’t, focusing on the pleasure is one but this? It’s another.

And he knows, that your mind is elsewhere – you know it too. Again, shouldn’t that be a part of it? To take each other’s minds off of things?

Even when your attention is rarely on him, he doesn’t say much of it, doesn’t demand your attention or care, biting on your neck and sucking on it afterwards, he moves up again.

It’s a way to escape for him too, doesn’t care how much of yourself you’ll give to him. Though this doesn’t change the fact that he likes it when your focus is solely on him.

So you do, one hand to stroke his neck and soon moving to the nape of it, up and grabbing his hair, pulling at the moments you know he’ll like, deepening his biting, the movement of his body, pressed against yours until the both oh you are molded in the shape of one another.

There is roughness and gentleness when it calls for it, but all in all, there is passion in his actions. Knowing your body and his, watching every move and reaction, drinking in the sounds the two of you make, as nothing else matters in that moment.

Until it shatters and the unspoken agreement is back in action. It’s never spoken of until it happens again. The again always comes sooner than expected. He is impatient as he is passionate.

Playing each other like instruments, you like to hear him moan the most. Pulling his hair to make room for yourself and leaving marks on him. Dazai claims he hates pain but loves to chase after it like hungry.

It is a good agreement, though nonexistent.

All the marks remain to remind of the pleasures of the previous encounters. It comes as a bonus, to wake up in the morning and look in the mirror, seeing marks of red and purple bloom everywhere, every square of your bodies. Satisfactory, although a little scary, showing how much you the other has seen.

No rules to abide, no strings to get caught in, and another thing you realize is that you never kiss.

Lips have touched everywhere but the faces, those remain clean, undisturbed. Maybe neither of you got a taste for masks, maybe you fear the implications of kissing one’s face.

But as clear as the sky and bright as the sun, this is one of the things that always remain unchanged.

Then Dazai kisses you. His teeth tugs at your bottom lip, pulling it down, he must be aiming to make it bleed there, you surmise.

He has kissed every corner of your body but your face and now here he stands, body against yours again, one hand to hold your neck, other to pull you by the waist, tugging on your lip as if he always does this.

No word was ever spoken yet it was always in the open. It should be your earlobe he’s tugging right now, what is he doing?,you think and ask yourself, until you find yourself kissing him back.

As always, it’s these moments of indulgence and pleasure where your mind is running fast. His skin looks barer than ever, he seems vulnerable. With how his bandages have come undone, how he lets you every time, never once hands holding yours in an attempt to stop. Layer upon layer, tightened straps of gauze and fabric to hide away everything underneath, every piece of him; and they come undone like nothing.

It becomes too loud in an instant.

Then again, hasn’t this always been the case? Weren’t all the choices and gestures you made, all the touches and caressing louder than words could ever be? Doing what words could never achieve, setting rules in untouchable air, to surround and entail you, claim your spirit and mind.

Perhaps he just knew you’d never ask the questions he won’t answer, or he simply trusts you, to an extent, as you do him.

It’s loud, with all the mixed noises, actions and hushed whispers – his eyes on yours as always, you give in and let the moment take in, your focus only on Dazai in this corner of time, as no one else exists.

Eyes like a hawk’s, it’s the moments when he gets to see you without nothing but bliss in mind that he cherishes the most. This time, it’s different and he is aware the reason behind is his actions. Unlike any other time, it’s not mere minutes where he gets to have you completely, a shift of something in you and until the high of it rises and dies down, you’re his, and all of him is yours.

For now, Dazai ignores the consequences of his actions and lives through what little you get to share until it ends.

‘La petite mort’, what a fitting name, he thinks, and how expected of him to enjoy it.

The clock starts ticking again, your pupils are narrowing.

“We’re down for this time, for sure.” You speak out as your breathing returns to normal, voice a still raspy.

“How so?” Dazai asks in return, his usual smile appearing back on his face, his composure looks far better than yours, in which you poke him for.

“Kunikida was right besides us!” you keep whispering the words, trying not to raise your voice. To anyone else, you’d come off agitated however Dazai knows you by now, just a tad worried, that’s all it is. “Even if he didn’t have suspicions before, he does now. We practically handed him over the proof.”

With a sigh, you lean back and run your hands to check your clothes for any fix-ups.

In return, Dazai leans over and rests his forehead by your face. Nobody pays much attention to the tidiness of his bandages so he leaves them be.

Turning his face to yours, the smile you’ve grown to hate never falters. It’s easier to relax somehow, and if he concentrates he can smell the scent of his skin on you. “Well, it’s not like Kunikida gets a say in who we get to see off the clock,” letting out a breath, his smile softens, “does he now?”

Fumbling with your bracelet as you listen, you perk up at his words. “Dazai, these are the work hours, we are on the job right now.” He can hear the confusion in your voice, he can’t blame you for that.

You never talk about any of these, let alone further implications of whatever this is.

You just assumed it’d end as always, going back to your divided lives, pretending nothing happened.

Up until now, nothing ever happened.

For the moment, he lets you ignore his implications.

There’ll be time to talk about these later.

[is-that-another-soulmate-au]

Zuko says fuck all of you, this war is stupid, your bending elitism is stupid, I'm gonna end your stupid existence with sheer spite and teenage angst

>If He Used His Strength<

"Maybe you'd like one to match!" Zuko snapped at Zhao

"Is that a challenge?" The irritating older man sounded all too cocky

"An Agni Kai, at sunset" he glared daggers at the man who just so happened to agree to the duel

Once Zuko used a move outside of his firebending the match was over quickly. He easily broke Zhao's root, kicking flames only at his feet until he fell back. He stood over him with a dark stare. He was tired of this. Tired of running around. Tired of chasing a twelve year old boy. Tired of tirelessly searching for the love of a terrible father. Tired of the war. He was done with it. And he had the power to end it. Not the fire power per say. But the ability to fight against and overpower multiple benders without ever lighting a spark himself

"DO IT!" Zhao spat at him

Zuko let out a loud growled shout and punched the ground right next to Zhao's head with a bright flame exploding from it. "This war is over. I beat you. And I'll beat him. I dont need fire to take you down."

"Wha-"

"So far your biggest enemies have been a twelve year old monk and a sixteen year old boy with trauma. So save your questions for your prison cell you cocky piece of trash" and with that he spit in his face and made a flip off of him and to Iroh. "Lets go"

"What do you plan to do prince Zuko?" Iroh asked in a confused tone

"Im going to end the war"

And with that they were off leaving Zhao to stand up and look down at the indent in the ground from where Zuko punched. A dent in the solid ground. "Send a warning to the firelord. He has company coming, and its not going to be petty" Zhao said as he came to the realization that if Zuko had actually landed that punch on his head he would have died on impact.

About two days later he was stopped in a small port town to grab some supplies and he ran into Aang who rightfully went into defense mode but he held up his hand "I'm only here to restock before I go fight my dad"

"What"

"Im done trying to please the bastard, he's terrible and this war is terrible, everyone in the firenation thinks fire is the best but it just sucks." Zuko shrugged "so I'm gonna go fight him and take the throne so I can end this stupid war"

"Oh... are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious, who do you think burnt my face? Of course I wanna fight him" Zuko waved to Iroh who was coming up to the pair with a bag of rations

"Oh, hello Avatar, sorry to run into you again" he apologized with a bow "Zuko came to some realizations and-"

"He already told me, hey, if you want to fight the firelord and you're serious about it, I can go talk to my friends about it and we can give you a lift on Appa and you'll get their quicker"

"Alright, we'll be on the port until sunset, if you come before then to get me then I'll come with you, if not, I'm sailing there"

Meanwhile the gaang were camped out when Aang came running in with what seemed to be confused excitement "guys, Zuko's gonna end the war"

Katara and Sokka looked up from the map that Sokka was holding "what thats insane, We're going to end the war, that's why you're training. Besides Zuko is our enemy and part of the firenation. Why would he end the war? And how would he even?"

"Okay, maybe I should have been more clear. Zuko is fed up with the war, and he's on his way to fist fight dad and end the war"

"Okay.. this... this I gotta see, we should find him and give him a lift."

"Funny you say that, he's in town and I offered him a ride"

After Aang went to go get Zuko and Iroh they made a walk towards the camp where the group started asking him questions to be certain he wasn't just trying to trick them and also to figure out how in the hell he hopes to do this.

"So. You want to go... fist fight your dad?"

"Uh, well, that's not exactly how I'd word it"

"Why not use your fire bending?"

Zuko let out a long sigh "alright, let me give you guys a run down on the fire nation okay? First of all, firebending is seen as the only form of actual power. Any non benders or late benders are seen as weaker and often times are. But they hold bending on such a high pedestal that most benders never take the time to master anything else. They don't practice any other form of fighting, let alone any other sort of strength training.

"I was a late bender so my bending is weaker than most. But I've taken the time to train with swords and multiple different fighting styles. I can easily break a solid steel chain with my foot in a shoe and I can break solid wood with my bare feet." He took a second to look around at the group "while I havent attempted it, I could probably crush someone's skull as well if we're taking into account of the two other things I know for a fact that I can break"

The group looked at eachother with terrified expressions "Zuko holy shit, you could have killed me at the south pole"

"Yeah, but I have control over the amount of force in each kick, and I wasnt trying to kill you... you were just in my way"

"Alright, well, I'm convinced, lets go"

And with that they were off, Zuko agreeing to have the group help him if he needed it. Iroh decided to teach Zuko how to redirect lightning on their journey incase he needed it.. When they landed Ozai was already outside prepared, having gotten the letter a day before and hearing that the bison had been spotted.

Jumping off of Appa Zuko and Ozai stared eachother down "Zuko"

"Father," Zuko narrowed his eyes "I challenge you to an Agni Kai. But. By your honor and mine. You and I are only able to use fire once during the battle. If you can defeat me with only one fire attack, then you can keep up with your stupid war. But. If I defeat you with the same limits then I take the throne" motioning his hand forward he continued "do we have a deal"

Ozai gave him a cold glare "you truly are pathetic," glancing at the avatar on the bison he gave in "deal"

The fight didn't last long, Ozai had already used fire within the first few seconds and Zuko took the low ground beneath it as a means of attacking. Running low and sliding between the older man's legs only to come up behind him and land a quick kick against his side. Sending him to the ground where Zuko took his advantage point to lift his leg up and slam it down directly on the man's chest.

A loud crack could be heard throughout the courtyard. A few broken ribs and probably some fatal internal bleeding kept Ozai on the ground. Zuko turned to the firenation officials who came to witness the fight. "This war is over. Go cry a river if you oppose its end."

"That was a cheat!" Someone in the crowd shouted

"How so?" He mocked back "it was a duel, I used only what I have and no extra weapons, I set a single extra rule and followed it to the extreme." Tilting his head he gave an irritated grin "would you like to fight against me with the same rules? I'm more than happy to give another show if you'd like"

The crowd had no other objections after that. Funny how that happened. Azula came bounding out into the courtyard, probably ready to see Zuko down but was instead met by the scene of Zuko standing over Ozai victorious.

"You- actually won?"

"I didnt use fire Azula, wanna try your hand?" He made a move to get into a fighting stance but instead was met by her running up to him with her arms open for a... hug? He didnt hug back for a moment, confused, but heard a few muffled apologies and returned the hug.

"So, you're gonna be firelord huh?" She asked as they separated, he nodded "And you're ending the war?"

"Exactly"

"Lame" she groaned out

"Everything I do is lame to you isn't it?"

"Not everything, but most things"

And with that Zuko ended the war, got himself and his sister some much needed therapy, Aang left to train around the world while it was healing from the war, only coming back to the firenation to train under Iroh and Zuko. Sokka managed to go to master Piando with Zuko's recommendation(though Sokka didn't know he'd been recommended). Katara managed to dismantle the sexism in the north pole after training with the swamp benders and whooping Pakku's ass.

Ozai is fckn dead, rest in fckn hell dude.

[small-teacup]

Okay, Inventing Privileges Revoked

Requested by: @jwillowwolf

Notes: The magical stuff in this fic is based off of The Ancient Magus Bride (anime and manga). If you've read/seen it, I put a lil reference to it somewhere in here >:)

POV: 3rd person

Ships: Analogical, Royality, and Demus/Dukeceit/Receit

CW: Swearing, yelling, eating, sympathetic Remus and Janus, fire, mention of failing classes, vines, being watched

Lemme know if I missed any :D

Word Count: 3041

“Twist this...and then you-” The inventor muttered to himself as he made a few adjustments and tweaks on his latest machine. It was supposed to harness the power of magic from other worlds, so that it could benefit this world. He knows they exist...he just knows. A few sparks flew at him as a knob was turned. “Don’t you dare start acting up on me. I spent a year and a half on you, I’m not letting you give up on me now,” he scolded the piece of machinery. He had an amusing habit of talking to objects. As if the invention had heard him, little gears started turning even though he hadn’t meant it for it to be turned on. Not yet. But it seemed like it was doing it out of spite. An unpleasant noise erupted from it before he quickly turned the knob back to its original position. “That’s enough out of yo-”

“LOGAN!! DINNER’S READY!!”

“Soooo..” Patton started, taking a bite out of a piece of garlic bread. “Any progress on your cool lil��� device you got in your room?” He asked, looking over at his roommate.

The voice scared Logan out of his wits, flinching as he pushed up his glasses. “I’M COMING!” He called back, standing up from his seat and tiredly walking out of his bedroom to the kitchen. He didn’t seem to realize the pink-ish glow emitting from the machine behind him.

________________

“It’s not...exactly doing what I want it to do. But that’s alright, I can still fix it,” Logan replied, scooping some spaghetti into his mouth.

“Ooohh..okay! Virgil, how were your classes today?”

The boy in question sat across from Patton, hunched over and eating slowly with one hand, the other one shoved in his jacket pocket. “Failed ‘nother exam. I’m thinkin’ of giving up at this point…” He mumbled, poking a meatball.

“Noooo! Don’t say that! You still got a lot to look forward to!”

“I agree with Patton,” Logan said, looking over at Virgil. “You’re trying your best and that’s what matters. It’s just one mistake, it’s not that big of a deal. You’ll be ok.”

“But what if I won’t be? Ughh..my grades are going down so so low… Sometimes I just don’t wanna be here. Not away from you guys, of course, but..just- somewhere where I don’t have to stress myself every night and break down almost once every week.”

“Like Logie said, you’ll be okay! Here, how about this, you take a well-deserved break and me or Logan can do your work for you?”

“That wouldn’t work because he wouldn’t be learning the things he needs to in order to pass. The least we can do right now is try to keep his mind off of work for a short time. But he has to get back to doing his assignments after.”

“Um..,” Virgil muttered quietly, as not to interrupt either of the boys. “I guess my little ‘break’ starts now…? If so, then uh..can I see Logan’s machine thing?”

Logan and Patton looked at each other, the more optimistic of the two grinning. “Yeah! I’d like to see it too!”

The inventor sighed, shaking his head lightly. “Fine, but do not touch it.”

His roommates cheered as a small smile made its way onto Logan’s face.

After dinner, they were grouped in Logan’s room, staring at the little device.

________________

“So...how does it work?” Virgil asked, tilting his head slightly. Logan gently took the device and held it in his hands so the others could see. “Well, you’re supposed to turn this knob,” he explained, turning said knob. The machine sputtered to life, however it seemed...off. “But it doesn’t seem to be working correctly at the moment.”

Patton stared at the tiny device in amazement, Virgil doing the same until he got a notification from his phone. He pulled it out, pure frustration showing on his face.

“UGHHH- I don’t even wanna be IN THIS WORLD anymore!” He groaned, shoving his phone into his pocket.

Suddenly, child-like laughter filled the air.

“Wh...What was that?” Patton asked, fearful.

“I’m..not sure,” Logan responded, looking around. Vines grew from the ground and latched to their legs as three small portals appeared beneath them. They were pulled down into those portals before they could even scream.

________________

Logan woke up to the sight of trees, the moonlight shining through them, and the feeling of dirt beneath him. He shot up and looked around frantically before his eyes landed upon two figures curled up next to one of the trees. On closer examination, he realized those were his roommates. Patton seemed to have calmed Virgil down from a panic attack.

“Are you two okay…?” He asked, going over and sitting with them. At the sound of Logan’s voice, Virgil suddenly latched onto him. “God- I thought you died! I’m so sorry..This is my fault, I’m so so sorry..,” the boy muttered, his grip tightening.

“I...believe it’s my fault. It was my invention, I shouldn’t have shown it to you two when it wasn’t even working properly.”

“Guys-” Patton said, trying to warn them.

“No but if I hadn’t got so angry-”

“I don’t think it had to do with your anger.”

“Guys-”

“But what if it did? We weren’t pulled in until I got that stupid notif.”

“There’s nothing in the device that would make it respond to human emotions-”

“GUYS!”

“WHAT?!” The two shouted in unison, seeing Patton looking up.

“There’s people..w-watching..,” he whispered.

Virgil and Logan looked up as well. Two pairs of eyes stared back at them, one pair green and the other pair red. Shadows hid their bodies from view, if they even had bodies. The two entities laughed, sounding exactly like the laugh they’d heard before being sucked into this alternate world. Patton scooted over to his roommates hurriedly and stayed very close to them. The entities above seemed to look at each other before the one with green eyes suddenly disappeared with a gust of wind. Red eyes looked back down at them, suddenly dropping from the tree and landing with a flourish. In the light, it seemed that the entity was a boy, about the same age as the three humans in front of him. Little flames burned from the tips of his hair that he didn’t seem bothered with. Speaking of, his hair was tied in a ponytail that hung over his shoulder. He wore a white shirt with gold lining at the top, its sleeves going down to his elbows and hanging loosely. A red sash was tied around his waist. Black cloth was tucked into it from the back, making it sway behind him whenever he moved. He wore simple brown shorts that seemed to have been torn from what used to be a complete pair of trousers. Gold ribbons wrapped his legs in a criss-cross pattern, tying into knots at his ankles. His ears were pointed, making him look like an elf. His eyes always seemed to have a fire burning in them.

He grinned at the terrified humans and held his hand out to them, but it seemed more directed at Patton.

“Greetings, humans! You may call me Princey. You’re not supposed to be here!” He sang.

Patton was the first to speak up, albeit in a shaky tone, “N-Nice to meet you, Princey. I’m P-”

“Ah ah ah! Nicknames only. Real names have power in our world, and you wouldn’t want to fall prey to anything...unpleasant, now would you?” The fae interrupted. He narrowed his eyes, but his grin stayed.

“And how’re we supposed to know that you’re not one of the ‘unpleasant’ kind?” Virgil asked harshly, suspicious of this seemingly magical stranger.

The faerie’s eye twitched as he pulled back his hand, “You certainly seem to be one of them, so you tell me.”

“You did not-”

“If the shoe fits, rusty human.”

“Alright alright, umm...maybe we shouldn’t fight?” Patton suggested, looking between the two.

“Yes, we don’t need to cause more problems to add to the ones we already have,” Logan agreed, pulling Virgil closer. The smaller boy huffed and muttered an “okay.”

“So we’re all in agreement that we’d rather not fight right now! Perfect! Now, let’s start this over. What would each of you like to be called?”

“Can I be called Pat..? Is part of our names allowed?”

“I...suppose. You have a very sweet-sounding nickname. And you two?” He gestured to Logan and Virgil.

The inventor sighed, “Call me L, please.”

“Alright, very simple,” Princey commented, looking over at the last boy to share his nickname. “..You know, I might just call you Rusty.”

“Don’t call me that-”

“Too late, Rusty.”

“I have a question,” Logan stated, looking up at the fae.

“Yeeeesss?”

“Why did you call him a ‘rusty human’?”

“Ah! It’s something only Neighbors, such as I, would get. Each human that comes through the forest has a distinct smell. For example, Pat smells like roses.” He sighed dreamily. “My favorite flower… As for Rusty over there, he smells like...well- rust. It’s utterly disgusting to us.”

“..Is ‘Neighbors’ the name of your species?”

“Sort of…? Neighbors is what you call faeries, however that term is dull to some. If we’re talking about the subspecies of fae, I’m a fire sprite.”

Virgil snickered, covering his mouth to hide his smile.

“What’s so funny about that? I’ll have you know that you should respect us magical beings, lest you be cursed or spirited away!”

“I’m gonna call you Soda,” The boy replied behind his hand.

“Wha-”

“Ooooh! Because he’s a sprite!” Patton said, pointing finger guns at Virgil. “Ayyyyyy!”

“Ayyyyyyy.” The other pointed finger guns right back at him.

Princey and Logan just sighed, one being confused and the other used to his roommates' antics.

The fae clapped his hands. “Okay okay. To get you all out of potential danger, you’re going to have to come with me. I’ll take you to my abode. Be warned, my brother and his boyfriend live there as well.” He shot a look at Virgil, “I’m not going to kill any of you. It wouldn’t benefit anyone.”

They looked at each other and seemed to be in silent agreement as they stood. Princey started guiding them through the trees and the bushes, careful to avoid anything that could kill these new humans.

“So...Why are you helping us? Not that I don’t appreciate it, I just...wanna know, y’know?” Patton asked as they walked.

“...It’s lonely here. The other fae are very..gossipy. You do something dumb and suddenly it spreads around like wildfire. So I usually stay away from fae that I don’t already know, as I wouldn’t want any...betrayals or damages to my pride. I trust that you humans are not the same...?”

“I don’t think so.. Right?” The boy looked over at his two friends, who seemed to be having a silent conversation with one another. He sighed and gave up on the question, feeling a bit left out. Princey seemed to notice, gesturing for Patton to walk with him at the front, to which the boy hesitantly but happily did.

After a bit of walking, they came across a little cottage in a clearing. Smoke billowed out of the chimney as they approached it.

“Well,” the fire sprite sighed. “Here we are! It’s not much...but it works.”

“...I thought it’d look more like a giant mushroom or something,” Virgil commented, a bit suspicious about how normal the house looked.

“Why would we live in a fucking mushroom? A MUSHROOM THAT SIZE DOESN’T EVEN EXIST- Where are you getting these ideas?!”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, faerie boy?” The emo replied, waiting for Princey to open the door or something. Was there even a lock on the front door?

As if on cue, the door swung open to reveal another faerie, similar to Princey. This one, however, wore reversed colors. A black shirt with silver lining and a green sash instead of a red one. He had a silver streak in his hair, dangling over his eyes. His hair was braided, draped over his shoulder as well. The most peculiar thing, though, was the fake mustache he wore and the green wings protruding from his back, speckled with black.

“Wretched brother! And...other people!” The new faerie greeted, moving aside so they could get in.

“Greetings to you too...Duke,” Princey muttered, leading the small group inside.

“That’s his name? Duke? What, is he a dog?” Virgil asked, semi-sarcastically.

“Based on his behavior, he might as well be,” The fire sprite grumbled, flopping on a nearby chair and sighing. “And no, that’s not his name. Remember what I said about those, Rusty?”

“Yeah yeah, they ‘hold power’ or whatever. But why do you guys need to disguise your names when you’re the one who’s able to use them against us? You’re not at risk.”

“Actually, we are. I’d also rather you not call my beloved a dog,” A new voice said, the source of it being a figure that had just walked in from the kitchen. The humans looked at him, a bit startled. It didn’t seem like this one was the same as the brothers. He wore a wide-brimmed black hat with a yellow ribbon tied around it. The shadows created by the hat covered one half of his face. The half that was visible seemed normal. He had dark brown eyes that made him seem wise and intimidating. A black and gold capelet laid on his shoulders, linked together with a gold chain. He wore yellow lace gloves with black ribbons wrapped around his wrist. He was even wearing thigh-high stiletto boots.

“mY BOYFRIEND!!” Duke screeched as he half-ran and half-flew to the new faerie. He latched onto him in a tight hug, his wings flapping slightly in happiness.

“Could I inquire what nickname you,” Logan started, gesturing to the mysterious fae, “would like to go by? And what type of faeries are you two?”

“Hm...Call me Deceit, if you will. Duke’s an Ariel and I’m a Leannan Sidhe.”

“Ariel?? Like the mermaid??” Patton wondered aloud, sitting next to Princey on another chair. It was obvious the two wanted to be close to each other with the way they were glancing at each other.

“I...don’t know what a ‘mermaid’ is, but I’m assuming that has nothing to do with the faerie world, so no. An Ariel is a type of sprite, a wind denizen, or in simpler terms, they can control the wind. They’re known to be mischievous, despite their job of purification,” Deceit explained, fondly playing with his boyfriend’s hair.

“And a Leannan Sidhe…?” Logan asked, sitting on the couch with a notebook and pen in hand. Where did he even get that…

“A subspecies of a fae you humans would refer to as a ‘vampire’. Young men let us feed on their blood in exchange for talent. It could also be exchanged for...other things.”

“Oh. Is the amount of blood a lot…? Because it would kill the human if you took too much.”

“It’s just enough that the human wouldn’t die on the spot. However, those we feed on don’t usually lead very long lives. Enjoy what you have and die or yearn for more and die greedy.”

“Greedy?” Virgil repeated, sitting next to Logan and clasping his hands together. If he was being honest, he actually considered offering his blood to the vampire, despite how shady that’d be.

“What you sought for certainly didn't come from you, did it?”

“N..No…”

“That’s what I thought.”

Awkward silence fell over the room. Duke fluttered his wings happily as he cuddled closer to Deceit. It created a little gust of wind that unfortunately threatened the life of Princey’s flames, to the fire sprite’s annoyance.

“Do any of you know why we’re here..?” Patton asked quietly, shuffling a bit closer to the fae next to him.

“I do! I do!!” The wind denizen chirped, speeding away from his boyfriend and stopping in front of the human. “So when the nerd over there made the weird machine, we were able to find connections to your world! But we didn’t know what to do with it, so we left it alone. But theeeeennnn, Rusty said a few magic words, and some of the faeries in our world took advantage of it, so that’s why you guys are here!”

“What magic words???” Virgil called from the other side of the room.

Duke cleared his throat and did a half-hearted attempt at imitating Virgil, “i dON’T evEn WAnnA be iN thiS woRlD ANyMOREEeEe blAHhhhh.”

“Okay, I said everything BUT that last part.”

“I know, it’s just that you’re overly angsty.”

“IT’S PART OF MY AESTHETIC-”

“Let’s calm down for a moment,” Patton said softly, giving a tiny and nervous smile. “What part of that was magical?”

“All of it! When humans say something, whether they mean it or not, some specific types of fae listen closely so they can cause maaaajor terror and disorder. Like this one time, some girl was angry at her lil’ brother so she went, ‘I wish you were never my brotherrrr!’ or something dramatic like that, and then the next day, the boy was gone! And nooooobody remembered him except her. She got really scared, but lucky for her, a couple of mages came by and helped her.”

“...Mages?”

“Yeah! They’re either like...human-like faes or sleigh-beggies.”

“Sleigh-beggies??? I honestly don’t think that’s the actual name-”

“Doesn’t matter what you think! That’s what it’s called. Sleigh-beggies are just humans who’ve been gifted with the sight to see otherworldly things. It may sound cool, but trust me, you don’t wanna know how many things are crawling over all of you right now.”

At that, both Patton and Virgil screeched, trying to get rid of the creatures they couldn’t even see. Logan sighed and shook his head.

“How do we get back?” He asked, looking over at Deceit as it seemed like he was the best person to ask.

“Well…” The fae started.

“You’re just going to have to stay and find out.”

[End]

(This post wasn't proofread-)

[bitchloveskcbaseball]

You Left My Heart on the Floor

Pairing: Bryce x MC

Warnings: A bit of language. Character Death. I don’t think I put anything that outright mentions the attack, but this is taking place when M/C is quarantined in the room during the aftermath.

A/N #1: Sooooo... This is a follow up to Bar Trouble that is set during the book 2 attack with an unfortunate alternate ending. And it is not a happy one. Also this isn’t heavily edited, so please excuse any mistakes.

A/N #2: Name for this comes from Carly Pearce's Every Little Thing

A/N #3: I didn’t want to forcibly subject anyone to this, so I’m not tagging anyone on this.

Bryce barely took the time required to scrub out of surgery before rushing off through the corridors. He never even really saw any of the staff he passed or heard any of the comments that were floating about as he ran past. The only thing he could focus on was getting to Casey before it was too late. He had to get there before it was too late.

He didn’t even remember flying over the flights of stairs that took him to the cordoned-off floor. Barely registered brushing past all of the various personnel that were trying to keep him from entering. His first cognizant thought after handing Kyra’s surgery over to Tanaka didn’t come until he was standing in front of the window, staring into a room that looked like it had come straight out of some psycho-horror film. The entire room was covered in plastic, an extra cot was set up but had yet to be touched, all while countless figures were milling about just outside of a decontamination chamber in hazmat suits. But, despite all the commotion, the only thing that Bryce saw was her. Her face was paler than he’d ever seen before, a marked contrast to the deep, dark circles under her eyes. Her lips were almost ashen and even from across the room, he could see the way her body was trembling. Her normally bright, green eyes were so dull they were almost completely devoid of color. Yet through it all, he could tell, without even hearing her words, that she was doing everything she could to make sure that Rafael was comfortable. Every single thing about the scene chiseled pieces of his heart away.

Then, suddenly, Casey was looking up directly into his eyes. For the first time in months. And it literally stole his breath away. But there was no relief for either of them. Her expression had quickly morphed into disbelief and Bryce was hit with the full force of everything that had happened between them.

“What are you doing here?” Even through the hostility in her tone, he could hear the weakness of her voice.

“You… I heard you were in trouble.”

“So?”

Bryce stumbled back with the force of the word as if he’s been physically struck. “I needed to see you. To check on you.”

“Shouldn’t you still be in surgery?”

“Inez called Tanaka and he took over for me. Kyra’s in the next best possible hands.”

Casey let out a harsh scoff. “Seriously, Bryce? I’ve asked you for only one goddamn thing in the past six fucking months. To get Kyra through this surgery. And you couldn’t even do that?”

“Casey – “

“Forget it. You’ve seen me. Now you can go. I’m sure your girlfriend is probably worried about you by now. You shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

Bryce sucked in a sharp breath. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected when he’d come running, but this sure wasn’t it. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed the way her eyes followed him whenever they were in the same room. The glares she’d shoot in his direction when Amber was with him.

He liked Amber well enough, but, as terrible as it sounds, he only kept her around to make Casey jealous. To help distract him until Casey finally figured out what the hell it was that she wanted. Until Casey figured out that she was meant to be with him. But here they were months later and nothing had changed.

Except everything had changed. Because she could very well be dying. And he’d wasted so much time trying to play head games with her. Trying to get back at her for how she’d made him feel when she’d pushed him away.

Now, he realized, as he saw the flash of emotions through her eyes, he had done too good of a job at convincing her that he had moved on. Casey was never going to believe anything that he had to say, anything he desperately needed to say. Not that he could blame her. Why would she believe that he still loved her when he’d done everything possible to make sure she’d seen him all wrapped up with Amber any chance he got?

Dropping his head to stare at his shoes, he muttered, “I, uh… I won’t be far. Just in case you, uh, you need something. Okay?”

“Whatever.”

Without looking up, he turned on his heel and found his way into one of the evacuated rooms down the hall. Settling himself into corner of the room that butted up against the hallway so that he wouldn’t be seen through the crack in the door, he sank down until his face was buried against his knees. He’d never felt so helpless in his entire life. The one person who meant anything to him in this entire world was stuck in a room with some mystery substance threatening to take her away for good. He wanted nothing more than to be there for her, supporting her in every way possible, but she didn’t want that from him.

He couldn’t stand to be any further away from her than he currently was, though, so he hid out in the room throughout the night. He gradually inched closer to the door, in order to pick up on the pieces of conversation taking place in the hallway. Knowing that Ramsey and the diagnostics team were on the case had helped to ease some of his fears. That was, until he heard them telling her what had been in the can. Until he heard the words he’d been dreading for hours. “There is no cure.”

His entire world stopped. He couldn’t drag air into his lungs. He couldn’t see the light shining through the door opening. He couldn’t even smell the thick odor of disinfectant that permeated the air.

I’m going to lose her. No. Stop that, Bryce. They are going to figure this out. The brightest medical minds in the world are working on her case. They will fix this.

Still, he couldn’t shake the iron grip of fear around his heart. It took far longer than it should have for him to push himself to his feet. Even longer to actually figure out how to move them towards her room. This time, he was painfully aware of all the gazes falling on him as he trekked towards his destination. He couldn’t miss the pitiful, knowing looks he was receiving.

When he was once again standing in front of her window, he realized that she was now all alone in the room and his heart squeezed even harder. She was wobbling precariously as she seemed to be attempting to pace across the room. It took every ounce of self-control he’d ever possessed to not run into the room and haul her into his arms.

“Casey?”

Her movements were incredibly disjointed as she swiveled around to face him and her face was knotted up in confusion.

“Bryce?”

“Yeah. It’s me.”

“What ar – “ a violent coughing fit overtook her and very nearly brought her to her knees.

“Hey. Why, uh, why don’t you go sit on the bed for a minute, Case?”

“Can’t. Have to keep moving. Can’t solve this if I fall asleep.”

“You don’t have to solve this at all. You’ve got the best team of doctors ever working on this. Your only job is to preserve your strength.”

“Don’t… don’t tell me what to do, Bryce.”

“I’m just – “

“Well don’t. I’ve been doing just – “ Casey blanched, stumbling over to a waste bin next to her cot just before the retching started.

Bryce’s fingers itched to hold her, to pull her hair back out of her way, to hold a cool washcloth to her face. Anything to bring her some semblance of comfort. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted an extra hazmat suit, and a glimmer of hope bloomed within his chest.

“Hey, Case. There’s an extra suit out here. If you want, I can put it on and come keep you company.”

“No.” The strength behind the word was reassuring even as it cut straight to his heart.

“What?”

“You moved on. You have your … girlfriend and I’m sure she wouldn’t be pleased to find out you’d entered a contamination zone for your ex. And I … I don’t want you here. I’m just fine on my own.”

“But – “

“I said no. Now just… go home, Bryce. Just go home.”

Shocked and heartbroken, he stared at her back for several long moments before he finally was able to tear himself away from the window. He retreated back to his hiding place, unable to argue with her wishes but also unable to leave her completely. He needed to be near in case she needed something. In case she needed him.

What could have been an hour later or maybe five, he honestly didn’t know, Bryce was broken out of his contemplative misery by a commotion in the hall. He listened intently for any sort of hope or happiness amongst the chaos, but instead only heard words that had his blood running cold.

“She’s coding!”

He didn’t even remember moving, but suddenly found himself standing outside her window yet again. His face was pressed up to it as tightly as was possible, fingernails scratching at the glass. Please save her. Please don’t let her die. Whether it was a plea or a prayer, he honestly didn’t know, but he kept repeating it in his mind over and over as he watched the team of doctors trying to restore her heart rhythm as time ceased to exist.

Seemingly without warning, everyone stopped and a silence punctuated only by the harsh, flat tone of the heart monitor settled over the room.

[quillandink333]

Scarlet Carnations ~ Part III

BotW Link X Zelda ~ Detective AU

Rating: T

Word Count: 2k

WARNINGS: death, murder, loss, trauma, blood and gore, terrorism, organized crime, self-harm

Summary: Inspector Zelda Hyrule, assisted by the faithful Constable Link Fyori, is infamous for cracking the most confounding of cases in a town dominated by crime. Her latest assignment is to solve the murder of her own godmother, Impa Sheikah, the late CEO of Sheikah Tech. Incorporated, while staying under the radar of the dreaded Yiga organization.

Part I • Part II • Part III • Part IV • Part V • Part VI • Part VII • Epilogue • Masterlist

The investigation was still underway a week or so later, still without even a semblance of a lead to go on, or at least not a favourable one. Auntie Purah still had yet to take the Slate into the lab as she’d promised, which was understandable. She was still in deep mourning, after all. I, however, still got up at six o’clock each and every day to make my way to the site, as if the murderer would one day just walk out into the open if I waited long enough.

Truth be told, despite my conscious efforts to suppress it, a part of me deep down was growing weary of one fruitless search after another. Most of the cases I’d led up to this one had been closed within a maximum three days. Admittedly I’d even begun to consider ways to dispose of the fatal evidence I’d been carrying with me since the start of all this. No one but Paya and I knew of its existence, and no one but us would ever have to. Besides, if these egregious felonies truly were the designs of the organization—which they had to be—there was no way I’d ever find any clues leading toward the perpetrator’s true identity, let alone that of their ever elusive boss.

And yet, every morning when I returned to the scene of the crime, with officers bustling about and those who remained of my family sitting quietly in another room, I was reminded of my ultimate purpose. It wasn’t a matter of being able or unable to catch my godmother’s killer. It was one of necessity. Letting them roam the streets as they pleased was not even a part of the equation. I hadn’t spent the better part of the last decade toiling away to reach my current level of authority as a detective investigator simply to throw it all away as soon as my will was tested. That wasn’t what Auntie Impa, nor what Mother, would’ve wanted. I had to uncover the truth, no matter the cost.

What happened next, however, would make my distress up until then seem almost laughable.

I was made aware of it via wire on one muggy afternoon at my office, when I’d decided to work on typewriting up some reports. I picked up the phone only to hear the wails of one distraught Auntie Purah on the other end.

“Zelda, it’s terrible!” she cried. “The Slate—Impa’s Slate—I’ve looked everywhere, and so have Paya and Symin and all the men here on duty, but I—it’s...we can’t—we haven’t...” The poor, old woman was hyperventilating, creating awful static noises through the speaker’s papery membrane.

“Auntie, it’s okay. Calm down,” I urged gently. “Take a few deep breaths.”

“Alright...” A few moments of silence went by before I heard her voice again. “Thank you, dear.”

“Not at all. Now, what were you saying about the Slate?”

“It’s been stolen.”

I froze, breath stagnant and eyes glued to the edge of my desk. “It’s—what?”

“Stolen,” she repeated, only deepening the pit forming in my stomach, from where my heart was now pounding. “Right out from under our noses. We’ve searched high and low for it, but there’s been no sign of it, or the thief.”

I had to reign in my voice before I’d start shouting at her. “H-How can you be sure it was stolen?” The vigilant Link’s eyes now bore into me with intensity from his place by the file cabinets.

“The lock on the safe,” blubbered my auntie, “the one in the study that it’s always kept in. You know the one?”

“Yes?”

“It was broken, and the safe was empty.”

“But...that’s impossible.”

“Precisely!” she cried, giving me a start. “I still haven’t the foggiest how they did it.”

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

With that, I hung up and prepared for immediate departure, my assistant just a few paces behind me. I had to see this for myself.

Surely enough, when we arrived, the safe’s lock was destroyed beyond repair, and there was nothing but dust to be found inside. Unsurprisingly, the thief had been careful to leave no fingerprints behind, just as the killer had been. For now, though, it was too soon to say for certain that the same individual was behind both crimes.

Upon closer inspection, it seemed the lock mechanism had been melted. My eyes widened. “That’s not something you see every day.” Constable Fyori crouched down beside me, then gave a similar reaction when he noticed the cause of my astonishment.

The thief had to have been someone with access to a welding torch or something along those lines. There certainly weren’t many who fit that description, save for the police. In fact, the whole reason they were issued out to a select few officers was for this very purpose, but situations requiring said officers to break locks such as this one using such extreme methods were few and far between. Nevertheless, the possibility stood.

It was for this reason that I finally gave in and decided to take up the case with the chief detective once we’d finished here. As always, Constable Fyori accompanied me thereto.

Chief Bosphoramus’ office was neither too grand nor too modest, not unlike my own, though it still clearly belonged to someone of high rank. It resided on the third floor of the three-storey building where my dear colleague and I made our livelihoods, boasting a broad view of the deceivingly peaceful streets below.

“It seems UC3680G662LL was the only officer on the scene who was equipped with a cutting torch,” relayed the old man, hunched over the records lain across his desk. “Unfortunately, however, he resigned just yesterday.”

I waited a number of seconds for him to follow up with something useful, but to no avail. “So...what? You’re saying we can’t go question him now? Because he ran away?”

He clasped his fingers together in front of him, looking at me like an elementary school principal. “That is what I am saying, yes.”

I wanted to growl like a bear as imitated by a child, but I held it in. “You do realize what this means, don’t you?” I scoffed. “No doubt he was a member of the organization sent to steal the Slate after killing its owner.”

“Now you listen here, Inspector.” The chief’s tone turned serious. I closed my mouth. “You of all people should know that not a single square inch of this town is safe. Not even this precinct.”

“Yes, but Sir, surely you agree that this entire case has ‘Yiga’ written all over—”

“Are you mad?!”

His thundering voice made Link and I jump. The room fell silent, the chief’s eyes flickering between the door and the open window behind him.

Then he rose from his seat to close the shutters. “Have you some sort of death wish?” he continued at an infinitesimal volume in comparison.

I bit my tongue, restraining the urge to retort with, “Whose fault is that?” for I knew I would only be spinning my wheels. There’d once been a saying in this city: “When one sheep leads the way, all the rest follow.” And Chief Detective Bosphoramus was a perfect reflection of this. Every last member of the force was the same. Weak-willed curs. Shirking from their sworn duties and hiding away behind their shields of specious ignorance.

But despite the virus of cowardice festering throughout the bureau, my partner’s lasting air of calm resignation reminded me that no one could truly blame those affected by it.

The power that the Yiga organization possessed over the town was beyond compare. Those on City Council were nothing more than their puppets, and likewise were the police. Fear and massacre were the whips they raised to drive us all into submission and to punish any and all who had the will remaining to fight. But the one group who’d dared to challenge their might, who’d stood tall ever in the face of their tyranny, had been my godmother’s company. Thanks to her intelligent mind and righteous heart, the people had been given access to technology that would keep them safe, to a degree, from crime, and little by little, the company had developed into a beacon of hope for the town and its inhabitants. Until now.

Now, that hope had been snuffed out, like it had never been anything more than a week and vulnerable candle flame, flickering faint against the darkness of obscurity, in the first place.

Later that evening, when my gaze happened upon the knife block sitting on my kitchen counter at home, my steps halted. The scars on my arms left over from my last couple of years in secondary school—the period in my life following the yet unexplained events that had taken away the one I’d cherished most—had only just begun to fade. Even so...

I shook my head, turning my back to the kitchen. But then, I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder once more. I recalled the rush of adrenaline that took hold each time my skin was breached by icy steel. It was true that letting my emotions control me would get me nowhere, but maybe...maybe just this once, I could at least do something to assuage them.

Then the image of the gaping, dark red hole running straight through Auntie Impa’s neck flashed before my eyes. I covered my mouth, quickly swallowing the bile rising up from the bottom of my throat. The idea slipped my mind that very instant.

It wasn’t until the following day’s investigation that a substantial piece of the puzzle finally revealed itself to me.

For it to have taken a whole two days to find wasn’t all that unbelievable. Even I had to admit, although my stepsister was a spineless, tattling suck-up who’d always received far more credit and affection than she was worth, no one could have imagined her ever turning criminal.

Even so, I was certain that what I discovered there in her bedroom went against the expectations of all. Upon my entering, a faint glow of teal and tangerine peaking through the floorboards caught my eye. I went to lift the plank doing such poor work of hiding the thing from sight. There it was, unscratched and in perfect working condition, its screen lighting up and displaying that dastardly riddle I’d been confronted with several days prior and still didn’t know the answer to.

Although the mystery of where it had disappeared to had been solved, its reason for being here of all places was still unclear. Why would Paya have gone to such lengths just to get her hands on the Slate? It was difficult to imagine there being any information contained therein that she would want so direly to be kept secret from the world. She and her grandmother had been close since before I’d become a part of their family as a six-year-old.

Then something hard and marble-sized went flying across the floor when struck by the pointed toe of my shoe. I gave chase, soon realizing what it was when it slowed to a halt just before the south-facing wall of the room:

A bullet.

I didn’t even need to perform a striation comparison; anyone could clearly see that it matched the one I’d pried out of my mother’s memorial shrine. Whatever blood might’ve been here at one point must have simply been wiped up, and she must have stolen Link’s revolver with whatever methods she’d used to steal the Slate. Without a doubt, this room was the true crime scene I’d sought after since day one of the investigation.

But even in the face of this victory, I could hear the voices of those who would oppose me ringing in my ears. “Paya’s the mastermind?” they jeered. “Isn’t that a bit far-fetched?” But at this point, this case had already pushed me far beyond the boundaries of my patience. I didn’t have a single damn left to give about how flawed my logic might or might not have been. All that mattered now was that I had a suspect, and so help me, if I was correct in my line of thinking as suggested by the evidence, this criminal would receive no mercy.

[glassartpeasants]

Crying In the Club .2

Overhaul x F!Reader

Warnings: Abuse, manipulation, gore,

*Part 1* *Part 2* 

A/N: I actually really enjoyed writing the first one so i thought why not make a little series. I don’t know how long it’s actually going to be but we’ll see how it goes!

~~~

You sit in the clean bedroom that your oh so loving boyfriend put you in. The room smelled of disinfectant and was pristine clean.

The smell was disgusting. It made bile rise up in your throat. You held you hand over your mouth as you felt the bile creep into your mouth.you quickly swallowed it before you threw up all over the room. 

The fear of Kai was more then convincing enough to not throw up. You knew that if Kai even smelled vomit it was your ass on the line. Anything that pissed him off? You were the punching bag. As much as it sucked, there wasn’t much you could do.

You laid down on the clean bed as you looked up at the ceiling. Your body shook violently with frustration with your situation. You couldn’t tell pops. Kai would just erase his memory again, then you would be in a whirlwind of trouble that really wasn’t worth it at this point.

‘Why me? Am I that so desperate for love that he decided i was and easy target? It’s always the pretty ones that are the assholes!’ 

Your nails dug into the bed sheets as tears of frustration run down your face. Your eyes squeezed shut as you bang on the mattress. You open your blurry eyes while you sit up ad swing your feet over the bed so they hit the floor.

Anger coursed through you veins as you looked around the clean room. Your hands gripped the bed sheets as you ripped it off the bed. Bedding flies all over the room covering up the carpet. Pillows, sheets, blankets, everything was thrown in random directions of the room. No place was safe.

The small bathroom was no safer then the bed was as you open the door roughly making it hit the wall, causing to make a tiny dent in it. You fly open the medicine cabinet and threw out every vitamin and pill bottle out. The bottles hit the floor with a thunk making pills fly out of the bottle as the lids broke off.

Pills cover the once clean floor, breaking into pieces and dust as you step on them on your way to the tub. You grab the conditioner and shampoo bottles squeezing them with all your might. Opening the lid as you squeezed all the contents of the bottle down the drain along with Kai’s hand sanitizer and more watching as the water takes it all down the drain.

Trashed. That’s how bad the room was. Your eyes widen once you realized the damage you had caused to the room. Your fit of rage was over and as everything came back to you like a train. You try to get your composure as you quickly try to clean the whole room before Kai got back, trying to fix everything you destroyed. The shampoo, conditioner and all the other products that went down the drain was a no go. But you could still make the bed and clean all the destroyed pills on the floor.

Your hand worked at the speed of light as you put the sheets around the corners of the bed, putting the blankets neatly on the bed, trying to make it look as clean as possible. Pillows were put in a symmetric pattern trying to give it that perfect look Kai so desperately craved. The bathroom was a horror to work with as you picked up all the pills that were still intact and put them back in the bottle, shoving them into the cabinet. Your hands made quick work of scrubbing the powder of the pills away. making it look clean enough to see your reflection in it. Maybe if you did that, your punishment wouldn’t be as harsh.

~~~

You let out a sigh as the bathroom looked spotless except for the empty bottles and that god forsaken dent in the wall. Your body shook as your ‘lover’ made his way to the door, unlocking it.You knew it would be better to tell the truth then lie about it. If you told the truth your punishment would be less harsh hopefully, but you didn’t get your hopes up knowing Kai.

“Are you ready to act like an adult now?”His voice rang in your head as you let out a gasp.

“No.” Your voice was shaky as you gather up the courage to tell him the truth.

“Why not?” You could sense his aggravated tone right away, belittling your confidence in telling him.

“I lost my temper.” You say looking down. Trying to hide away from his liquid gold eyes. Tears streamed down your face as you heard the door that was once unlocked, locked. You saw his feet in your field of vision getting closer to you.

“Excuse me?! What did you do?!” his voice sent shivers down your spine as your squeezed your fists so tight your knuckles turned white.

“I trashed the room, I cleaned all up after I was done to the best of my ability but-” A gloved hand made contact with your cheek at high force. A hand print sketched into your face, stinging and throbbing.

‘What else have you done?!”

“I...I poured all the shampoo and conditioner out, along with your hand sanitizer. I opened the bathroom door to hard and caused a little dent in the wall.” Before you knew it a hand grabbed your wrist squeezing hard.

“Your lucky I have a meeting to go to with Pops. You unfortunately have to come with as well which means your punishment will be postponed until later tonight. Come on we need to find you a suitable dress.” His hand squeezed harder on your wrist making you wince but keep your mouth shut. He was angry enough, its best to just stay quiet for awhile.

~~~

Your mouth hurt from all the fake smiling you were doing during the meeting. You sat right next to Kai, trying to keep the girlfriend act up. You had to hold hands with this asshole which felt like a sin in itself. His gloved hand was a unwelcomed feeling of cold despite your hatred for him, you felt a bit safe next to him. Safe from the hungry stares the old men in the meeting were giving you.

Kai was trying to get this sit over with and fast. He hated how you scooted closer to him, he hated you and you hated him, go away. He didn’t want your filth near him. He looked at you questioning why you were so close to him when he saw you shifting uncomfortably at the hungry stares from the older men around the table. Gears clicked in his head as soon as he realized the situation.

“So pretty lady, hows it like living with a germophobe as a boyfriend.” the old man chuckled as did many other men around the table. He looked you up and down. Even though he despised your entire existence, a spark of possessiveness kicked into his body. Fuck off, I need her for my plans.

“Um does it really matter?” You say nervously. Kai’s eyebrow arched at you when he heard you talk back to the man. He tried to move a bit away but couldn’t when he felt your fingers intertwine with his even more as you squeezed his gloved hand tighter. He would never admit it but the warmth of your hand felt a bit nice, compared to his freezing ones.

“I’m just saying it’s pretty funny seeing him get a girlfriend, a pretty one at that.” The man purred at you. You shifted not liking the way it was going down this road. You hoped that Kai would get some sort of message and allow you to leave.

“This meeting is done.” Kai stood up and shot every man a dirty look before stomping out of the room. Making a note to kill the man who wolf whistled at you when you both left the room.

Kai swing your bedroom door up. He practically threw you into the room. You try to catch your balance as your heels where not helping you on the carpet. Before you could fall though a hand grabbed your upper arm and pulled you up.

You were about to say something before a metal clinking caught your attention. Your eyes go wide and felt the cold metal hit your exposed shoulder blades, dragging it around the exposed flesh.

A rush of pain surged through your entire being as you felt the tip of the metal blade pierce through your skin. It felt like every single second was a eternity in hell. The slow movements of the blade ripping through your fresh skin felt like you were being killed by him over and over again.

Kai seemed to drag it out longer then needed. You felt the blood trickle down your back as your entire being shook in pain and fear.

Kai watched as your body shook feeling a sense of power as he realized the amount of control he has over you. It felt like a sick arousal that he couldn’t get enough of. Watching you cry out in pain and fear felt like he was the king. He could end you right now and you would never tell anyone.

And he hated you for it.

How dare you fill his mind with sick fantasies? He has a job to do. Your disgusting, oh how he wished he could kill you, but he still needed you. His plan was almost in fruition and once it was he could finally get rid of your disgusting presence.

The pain finally ended making you let out a sigh of relief. the throbbing pain was still there but the worse of it was over.

“There, now no one will want you. I still need your filthy life in order for my plan to succeed. People will know that your my bitch. And i do whatever i want to you. But they don’t need to know on how much I can’t wait to kill you. To see your blood splatter all over the floor will be my dream come true.” He let you go making you fall to your knees.

“Belong to you? Be careful Kai, your starting to sound like you actually need me.” You growl as you look up as him over your shoulder.

Your chin was grabbed harshly by Kai as you were brought face to face with him.

“We both know that once this is over, you will no longer be needed, then i can finally get rid of your disgusting life.”

“Then why did you carve your initials into my shoulder? What? Did you feel threatened?” You snicker at him with a smirk carved into your face with him glaring at you.

You stare at him for another second or two before grabbing his arm and taking him down onto the ground with you. You try to hop up onto the floor and run but he caught your leg tripping you, making you crash to the floor.

He dragged you back to him while you were kicking and clawing your way away from him. Trying to escape only to have him hold you tightly as you try and wiggle your way out of his clutches.

You throw your head back hitting him in the face. He let go for a split second, but that was all you needed for you to book it.

You dig your nails into the carpet as you push yourself up and open the door, flying out of the room and out into the compound halls.

Fear courses through your veins when you crash into someone’s chest. Your prayed it was pops only for the familiar scent of vanilla to hit your nose. You look up to see Hari Kurono, Kai’s right hand man.

‘He’d probably be a better boyfriend then Kai ever would.’ Your hands were grabbed as you were spun around and walked towards your prison you just escaped from.

“Do what he says and you won’t get hurt understand?” Hari said into your ear. His voice sent shivers down your spine as your remembered how dangerous both of these men were. Curse you and your shit taste in men.

Once you stop at the room and Kai stepped out you knew you were in for a ride. Your finger felt like fire as you were left with Kai as Hari let go of you and walked away.

‘Shit no come back asshole. If your around Kai might be a bit nicer fuck.’

“I was gonna make our punishment a little easier since I WAS in a good mood but you just had to ruin it didn’t you? Jesus can’t you do anything right?” He grabbed your arm and threw you into the room. But he didn’t come in You turn to face him only to have the door shut in your face and the door locked.

“Hwy let me out dickweed!” You banged on the door but no one heard you and no one came to your rescue.

~~~

3 days later

Your mouth felt dry like a desert. Your stomach growling in demand for food. You held your stomach as you whine in pain, the hunger pain started to creep up on you. Sure you had water in your bathroom but food was your main priority right now.

The sound of shoes stopping in front of you door had your weary eyes looking in that direction, looking for his eyes. Your energy was gone as you barely had the strength to get up.

“Have you learned your lesson yet (Y/N)?” To tired to care about anything you said yes.

He closed the door and walked over to your tired body laying on the bed.

The power trip he got from seeing your submissiveness to him, you couldn’t fight and didn’t talk back. You didn’t have the energy to do either.

Why didn’t he think of this sooner? You’re doing whatever he says and all he had to do was keep food from you? Take away your source of energy? How long could he do this? If you went another 3 days without food would you give up and do whatever he says in fear of not getting food? Would you finally not make a fit about everything?

“You know what? I think I’m gonna extend your punishment by another 3 days. Maybe then you would learn your place brat.”

[imma-fucking-nerd]

Coming Home

(Connor x Anderson!Reader)

A/N: just got this idea literally now and i dont really have all the details down so sorry if it sucks :p

——————————————

It had been..... You don't even remember how long it's been since you've been in Detroit. But once you hear about everything that was going down with the androids you packed everything you needed, got into your car, and drove. Why were you so determined to go back? To go home? Well there was one reason.

Hank Anderson.

Your father.

When you left you changed your number and never brought his so you had no way of contacting him. No way of knowing if he was even still there or not with the whole evacuation. But you had a feeling his stubborn ass was still there, and if not you'd ask his captain where he went off to.

You nervously tapped your fingers against the steering wheel as you grew closer and closer to your childhood home. It'd felt like a whole other lifetime since you've seen it. You wondered if Sumo was still alive and kicking. You hoped so. You also hoped the same could be said about your father. Hoped he wasn't stupid enough to fight the androids who wanted freedom. You knew how much he hated the things.

Suddenly memories of the night you left started coming back to you. How he came home drunk once again, seemingly ignoring your existence. How you felt like you had enough. All the awful, hurtful things you screamed in a fit of anger and pain.

I wish it was you instead

That was the sentence you remember vividly saying the most. The sentence you regretted the most. You knew he was hurting, you were hurting too. But in the heat of the moment you needed to make him hurt more. Why? Now that you thought back on it no reason justified it. But you were just a kid who lost their brother and needed their father. A father who was so grief struck that he ended up neglecting his other child. At least thats how you saw it.

You didn't know why you didn't come home sooner. Maybe you thought if you built another life for yourself you could forget where you came from. But that wasn't how it worked. And you just hoped that it wasn't too late to make up for a young persons mistakes.

You were so lost in your thoughts you almost didn't realize you were right infront of your childhood home. It hurt to look at. However the dim lights that could be seen through the window gave you some hope that the pieces of a broken past could be mended.

Parking your car on the street you sat there for a moment. Then two. Then three. For some reason you just sat there, staring at the house. As if as soon as you got out it would disappear. Or maybe it was because your gut was twisting in anxiety of what was to come.

Sucking in a deep breath, you opened the car door and hopped out, stuffing your hands in your pockets after closing the door. You took slow steps towards the entrance, anxiety building up and twisting into knots in your stomach with each step. It wasn't too late to just turn around and leave. It wasn't too late to just forget again. But you knew you couldn't. Because one day it would be too late to get any sort of closure, and that was a thought you couldn't bare.

Your feet stopped once you reached the door and slowly you took out a hand from your pocked, raising it to knock on the door. To be honest they were pathetic attempts at knocking, as if you didn't want to be heard but at least you could yell yourself you tried. However it must have been loud enough because not too long after the door could be heard unlocking. Your heart was pounding in your chest and ears as you stared at the door.

Once it opened you expected to see the face of your father, shocked to see you there. However your heart dropped when you were faced with a young looking man with well kept dark chestnut hair and curious chocolatey brown eyes. But the thing that stood out to you the most was the LED on his right temple. He was an android. That couldn't be right.

"Can I help you?" The sound of his soft voice broke you out of your thoughts.

"I uh- I'm sorry I thought... I thought Hank Anderson lived here but I uh- I guess I was mistaken I'm sorry," you spoke as evenly as you could and tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to build.

He was gone. You were too late.

But just before you were about to turn around and quickly leave, the android spoke up.

"No you were correct, he still resides here. But I'm afraid he's a bit.... Indisposed at the moment," he spoke with a small awkward smile, looking back into the house for a second when he paused.

You gave a small sigh of relief. He wasn't dead. But then you just became confused. He lived with an android? What the hell happened when you were gone.

"May I ask who you are?" the android inquired politely, tilting his head slightly.

Jesus dad must hate this guy. 

"I uh- I'm.... I'm..." you stumbled over your words as you tried to explain just who you were.

You noticed the androids once pale blue turn yellow and his gaze on you grow a little more intense. What was he doing? Before you could even open you mouth to speak again his eyes suddenly widened.

"You're his daughter/son," he spoke softly, barely above a whisper.

Now it was your eyes turn to widen. How did he know that? Did he scan you or something? All you could do was give a small nod in return. The android's LED shifted from yellow back to it's passive blue.

"My apologies Ms/Mr Anderson, would you like to come in?" He opened the door wider for you as he spoke, offering another awkward smile.

"Y-Yeah. Thanks, and please just call me (Y/n)," you said, giving him a small smile in return as you too a step inside.

"Of course, Ms/Mr- I mean, (Y/n). My name is Connor, by the way," he spoke as he closed the door behind you and locked it.

Your small, somewhat forced smile immediately grew once your eyes landed on the old st bernard padding over to you, his tail wagging excitedly. You wasted no time crouching down and giving your old friend a hug, meanwhile he gave you lots of slobbery kisses.

"Hey Sumo, it's good to see you too," you said with a grin.

When you lifted your gaze up you immediately recognized the figure sprawled out on the couch, and your smile dropped. Not necessarily because you weren't happy to see him, but because it seemed as though he never changed. Slowly you stood back up, and Connor immediately noticed the small frown on your face, and the cause of it.

"Would you like me to wake and sober him up?" Connor asked quietly, making his way over to Hanks unconscious form.

"No! Uh no, no that's okay. I'll just, wait until he wakes up in the morning. It's fine," Connor stopped at the sound of your voice and nodded.

"I should put him to bed then," was all he said before he started to drag your drunken father from the couch.

You could hear him grumbling and cursing under his breath as Connor dragged him along to the his bedroom. Despite knowing he probably wouldn't even know you were there, anxiety built in your heart of the possibility of hearing him say your name again. You hoped to god you wouldn't hear that. You didn't want your first meeting with him after years to be when he's too drunk to even see straight.

Luckily Connor was quick to putting him to bed, completely ignoring his ramblings because as soon as his face hit the pillow he was out like a light one more. Once your father was gone you sunk onto the couch with a heavy sigh, your eyes cast downwards. You really did not think this was how this night was going to go. But you supposed it could be worse. You father could have been dead. At least he had someone looking after him.

Looking up you saw Connor awkwardly standing infront of you. He was staring at you, his LED blinking yellow once again. It honestly made you a little bit uncomfortable and you awkwardly shifted on the spot you were sitting on. Thankfully Sumo was there to shift your focus as he hopped up next you you and rested his head on your lap. Just like old times. A small smile graced your lips as you pet the hounds head.

"Do you have anywhere to stay?" Connor suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

That question made you realize that you in fact, did not have a plan of where you were going to go if things went south.

"Uhhh no. Not really. But I could get a motel or something," you answered, looking up at him sheepishly.

"Nonsense," he shook his head, "I doubt the Lieutenant would have any problems with you staying here. As long as you don't mind the couch, that is."

You rose a brow slightly at the use of the title your father earned.

"I'm his partner," he quickly added as he noticed your confused face.

"Ah, that makes sense. Bet he was thrilled when he got that news," you chuckled softly.

"He was not. But I like to think I've grown on him," Connor smiled, your sarcasm completely going over his head.

You opened your mouth to say something but shut it, a small smile spreading across your lips. You knew for a fact that Connor must have driven your father nuts just from that alone. But in all honesty you thought it was kind of endearing.

"Anyways, I think I will stay. But where will you go?" you asked without really thinking.

"Androids don't require sleep," he answered simply.

"Right," you responded quietly, your cheeks growing warm in embarrassment.

Suddenly Connor turned on his heel and went into the linen closet for a moment before coming back with a spare blanket and pillow.

"Here you go, I hope these will suffice," he said as he handed them over to you.

"Yeah these will be fine, thanks," you smiled up at him as you took them from his hands.

You tossed the pillow to the other side of the couch and gave Sumo one last pet before shooing him off the couch.

"I uh hope you don't mind if I go to sleep now," you said as you unfolded the blanket and layed it out for yourself.

"Of course, I completely understand. You must be very tired, I'll be sitting in the kitchen if you need me," he spoke with a soft smile before turning to the kitchen.

It wasn't that far but it was the best he could do to give you some privacy. But before he left your small voice stopped him.

"Hey Connor?"

"Yes, (Y/n)?" he inquired, looking back at you and tilting his head slightly.

"Can you please wake me up before my dad gets up? I don't really want to be asleep when he first see's me," you almost pleaded, your gaze shifting away from him during the last sentence.

"Of course, (Y/n)," he nodded, making sure to keep note to not bee in sleepmode for too long.

"Thanks," you smiled up at him as you took off your jacket, letting it drop to the floor unceremoniously.

"It's no problem. Goodnight, (Y/n). It was a pleasure meeting you," he said with surprising sincerity, picking up your jacket and folding it neatly as he spoke.

"Thanks Connor, it was nice meeting you too," and that was the last thing you said before you laid your head on the pillow and drifted off to sleep.

It must have been the morning already because you woke up to Connor softly shaking you and calling out your name.

"My apologies (Y/n) but you asked that I wake you up before your father saw you, and I'm quite sure he'll be awake any moment," he spoke softly and slowly so your waking brain would understand what was going on.

Immediately any tiredness in you left as Connors words sunk in. This was it. It was finally time. You sat up and went to stand, maybe a little too fast because you suddenly felt dizzy and accidentally stumbled into Connor. Before you could mumble out an apology the android spoke.

"Are you alright?" His voice was laced with concern and you couldn't help feel heat rise up to your cheeks.

"Uh y-yeah, I'm fine. Just stood up too fast, sorry," you mumbled quickly and before any of you could say anything else a new, but all too familiar voice spoke up.

"Connor, who the fuck is-" Hank stopped mid sentence once he saw your face and his expression immediately softened and any hangover symptoms he was going to bitch about suddenly didn't matter.

"(Y/n)?"

"Hi Dad."

———————————————

A/N: holy shit i feel like i really started to fuck up during the end there ugh im sorry. Also sorry there's not much (y/n) and Hank interaction. Maybe I'll do a part 2 if y'all want idk. Anyways hope y'all enjoyed!

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Sand and Stars.”

This should get interesting quickly 

The GA council chambers were silent. Many alien races stood in solemn silence as they watched the footage.

The Rundi chairwoman averted her eyes as the last wreckage of the ship vanished into the void leaving behind only its jettisoned parts.

“Commander Vir has been announced Missing In Action.”

The Council chamber glanced between each other, sure that he was more than just missing. The human representative, seeing the looks on their faces lowered his head, “It is a human tradition that a man or women be presented only as Missing in Action until a body is found.”

“But…. That will be… forever.”

“Then commander will be forever known as missing in action protecting his planet, protecting your planets , and everything he loved…. We would ask, in human tradition that we…. Have a moment of silence for Commander Vir.”

Off to the side, Lord Celex stood atop his pedestal eyes fixed on the repeating footage before him, watching as the ship carried a great warrior into blackness. A great warrior and a good friend, someone that lord Celex had always respected and come to admire though he had never told the human that. Around the room others were thinking the same.

The Drev councilor had known the commander’s ties to the Drev nation, known his membership in two separate clans. And to him it was as if he was losing one of his own.

The Rundi chairwoman felt similarly…. As if she too had lost a friend, an who had always been more than willing to meet her people on their own level, to speak with them the way they spoke among themselves, and to follow their traditions to matter how arbitrary.

“The UNSC  is declaring war against the Burg. We do not expect the GA to understand, to care or even to participate, but we do ask that you do not impede our progress….” The human paused eyes narrowing slightly, “You will NOT impede our progress.”

There was silence around the room as some of the council chamber shifted.

Eventually Lord Celex hopped forward, “We will not impede your war human, but what of those who wish to stand with you.”

That seemed to surprise the councilor who turned, “Lord Celex?”

“Commander Vir was an ally, and a friend. He has treated the Celzex nation with not but respect and friendship. Humanity has stood behind this council since the beginning, since the Drev war.” He turned to look at the Drev councilor, “I feel that it is only fair my people do the same…. I find that it would be the best way to honor a man who honored us.”

There was a pause before the Drev councilor stood, “Commander vir is one of our own, a Sentinel of the Wandering tribe, and a declaration of war on him and his is a declaration of war on us and ours.” He slammed his spear against the floor, “Let humanity and the Drev stand beside each other in war, as we once stood against each other, and let the galaxy tremble before our assembled might.”

The Gromm stood next, “We owe the commander a great debt for saving our people, first form illness, and then from the Burg invaders as they first attempted war upon us. We will join in the fight, though supplies are most of what we can offer.”

A Tesraki stood, “We will join sides with the humans.” Turning to look at the FInnari who stepped up to add.

“As shall we. Commander Vir saved our species from extinction.”

The entire council chamber didn’t stand, but those who did were more than enough. The warriors and the arms dealers, and the politicians.

For the first time in thousands of years a majority of the GA council chamber was going to war.

***

Landing in a human life-pod is not an experience Dr Krill had ever wanted to experience, but un luckily for him, his entire life had been about things he had never ever wanted to experience ever in his entire existence.  IT had all started when he insisted on staying behind until all his patients were put onto life pods or moved onto a different part of the ship. Dr. Katie had gone with a few of the critical cases and he had seen his last human off before realizing that there was no room left in the life pod for him. Oh well, those sort of things tended to happen but what was he to do really so he moved his way over to another one of the pods.

Obviously it had occurred to him the gravity of what was going on. The Commander had initiated a protocol which would seal on contained units inside the ship and then break it into pieces violently throwing the backwards and out of reach for the black hole, or.... whatever it was.

However, the med bay was in a position very close to the command structure of the ship, s it would be one of the last to be jettisoned. However, that didn't look good for their options of escape, so he had ordered the others out as quickly as possible and stayed behind to put the last things together before getting himself to his own life pod.

When he did, he strapped himself securely in.

IT had taken a bit longer for him to figure out the controls than he would have liked, but with a press of a button, he had been rocketed off into space.

The view hadn't been all that great, in fact Krill had almost lost his cool upon seeing the debris of the ship being shot away from the massive black swirling vortex which had caused a rift in the very fabric of space itself. Krill nearly lost his cool, or let’s be completely honest, he did in fact lose his cool and he did so very violently and very suddenly freaking out silently inside his pod where nothing and no one could hear him. He watched as the last segment was shot off past him and towards the still warring battlefield of Kree airspace.

IT seemed odd to hi that that part of the ship would be going so much faster than hi, that was until he realized what was going on. Beside him The command deck of the UNSC Harbinger was slowly gaining speed towards the swirling vortex, and so was he. HE squealed in surprise and panic, and tried everything he could to get the shuttle moving faster, but it seemed as if he had gone to far already. Dr. Krill was being sucked into the event horizon of a black hole. Of course not that Krill knew much about black holes. I mean it was black and it was a hole in space so he sort of assumed that is what was going on, though he couldn't really have said for certain.

Did it matter?

He was going to die.

HE had never thought it was going to end like this, but looking over at the other ship, he realized he wasn't entirely alone. Commander Vir was aboard that command deck, probably watching fro his captain's chair as doom rose up to meet hi. Dr Krill wished there was some way to contact him, maybe to bring a little bit of comfort before the two of them died, but he knew that was impossible, so he sat, and hoped that maybe the commander wouldn't notice him there. It was probably better if he thought it was only him as he plunged into the darkness.

They began moving faster and faster and faster towards the opening. Krill turned away eyes noble to look.

The closer they got the more the air seemed to warp around in until the very essence of space itself seemed to tear and break. He felt himself being pulled in many directions all at once, not all that unlike a warp.

At any moment he expected himself to be torn in half.

The world went black and then it went red, and then everything around him went white. He was swirling, his body trembling.

He felt sick, horrible, as bad as any warp on a human ship had ever been for him, and then suddenly everything was silent.

Krill waited for an inevitable death that never came. He opened his eyes and looked around expecting to see nothing but black, but instead, a delicate blue light was filtering in towards him from the outside. He turned in his seat blinking in surprise when, instead of death, he saw the glassy blue surface of a planet with delicate lines of clouds swirling over its face, deep blue water, and the brown and green, almost like earth though, he could tell by the landmasses that it wasn't.

Keill turned to look back behind him, but found nothing to be there. The black hole just have collapsed in on itself.

But no, that wasn't right, it wouldn’t be a black hole at all but some kind of warp tunnel, which made more sense. Now that he thought about it other than being black, the hole hadn't looed much like a black hole.

He turned to his other side, though if that meant that HE had survived, than maybe it also meant....

He didn't see the other part of the ship just now, but it’s not like he had 360 degree vision.

There were also more important things to think about right now, the number one being how he was going to survive all of this. The lifepod only had a few hours of sustainable air before he was going to die, and that meant he had to land the pod quickly. Luckily for him, he wasn't expected to pilot. It had a protocol for this, and he only hesitated for a second before pressing the button and holding tight as the shuttle began it's slow descent towards the face of the planet.

It had been an almost tranquil approach for the first few minutes, maybe the first half hour.

That was until they hit upper atmosphere and little tongues of flame began licking at the side of the the windows.

KRill rattled in his seat being shaken like  juice in a jug as he careened from the sky..... not slowing down as he could.

HE did not like this at all.

WHy wasn't he slowing down?

Why wasn't he stopping?

The fire outside his window grew up until he could see nothing. He was pushed back in his seat screaming as he plunged from the sky going from one horrendous death straight into another. he clasped the sides of the seats as the ground rose up at an alarming rate. A few hundred feet above the ground and its engines fire suddenly jolting him so violently that he completely backed out. Luckily he wasn't awake for the next part when the padding was deployed and he hit the ground, the shuttle bouncing and tumbling for a moment before coming to rest in the shallow waters of an inland sea.

And there he lay unconscious as the star above him curved over the horizon and vanished down into nothingness.

***

Stars spun in the night sky overhead as smoldering pieces of wreckage burned. Hot oil melted into the sand along the side of the beach as the native animals ran for cover in whatever direction they could find to save themselves from the great and intense heat. A set of vibrant white rings orbited the planet cutting over the sky above them.

There was a crashing off in the distance, and under the glow of the stars, a panel of metal crashed to the ground, and a hand clawed upwards towards the sky glowing gently in the cast white light from the planetary rings.

The hand bent down to grasp at the metal before it, pulling the body up and from the interior of the smoking wreckage. It fell to the ground with a thud sending up a wave of sand in all directions. Overhead stars winked and fire crackled. The silhouette lay prone for a long moment before weakly clawing at the sand, pulling itself away from the wreckage and across the open sand of the beach dragging its body towards the glittering surface of the water which reflected like a mirror the stars above.

It reached the edge dipping a hand into the water’s surface sending ripples out over the starry night sky.

It lay there for a long moment under the stars with the fire burning distantly at its back.

The ripples dissipated over the glassy surface dissipating to turn the sky and the water into one seamless whole.

Commander Adam Vir Rolled onto his back one hand still resting lightly in the water clothes singed and smoking as he stared up at the stars overhead turning to reflect off the glassy surface of his eye.

The vastness of the universe stretched out before him spinning overhead in a slow churn of eternity as he fell in  and out of consciousness, the stars his only companion in the darkness.

He shivered slightly, not from the cold, or the chill wind pulled over to him from across the water, but eventually his eyes closed and he slowly faded out his mind taking him somewhere safe and warm as he lay, just another piece of the wreckage on an alien planet.

[haberdashing]

i want you to straighten out my tomorrow (4/?)

The last thing Jon remembers is working into the night in the Archives in early 2016. Now he’s in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, Scotland, with Martin Blackwood as his only companion. Obviously Jon’s missed something along the way here…

Inspired by beloved of jon, though it can be read separately.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

on AO3

“It’s alright, Jon, it- it’s really not as bad as you seem to think-”

Jon closed his eyes as he pressed his hands against his face. “How bad is it, then? How much danger are we in? And we’re just- just sitting around talking, eating breakfast like nothing’s wrong-”

Jon’s voice started to quicken as his speech went on, his breaths quick and shallow. He was panicking, that much was clear, but he also didn’t especially see a reason to stop.

“Well, for one thing, odds are good nothing’s going to happen right this minute, we, we’ve been here for almost two weeks and nothing’s gone after us yet-”

“But something might go after us.” Jon couldn’t bring himself to unbury his head, to go back to looking Martin in the eye just yet. “Like Daisy.”

“Probably not Daisy, honestly. She was a hunter, yeah, but she was on our side. She, er-” Martin let out a strange sound somewhere between a wheeze and a laugh. “She was your friend, I think.”

“She tried to kill me, and now we’re friends?”

“That’s right, yeah. Trust me, it...” Another one of those strange sounds. “It seems odd to me, too. And it took some time.”

If Martin thought it was odd, and he was there, he remembered all of it happening... god, how much deeper did this rabbit hole go?

Jon opened a gap between two of his fingers just wide enough for him to be able to peek out, though he wasn’t sure if Martin noticed as much. “If not Daisy, who?”

“There’s the hunters I mentioned before. They came all the way from America to the Institute to go after you--you specifically, I mean. Actually, come to think of it, both of them come up in statements early enough you might know the names--Trevor Herbert and Julia Montauk ring a bell?”

Jon gave up all pretenses at hiding then, put his hands back down at his side so that he could more effectively stare at Martin in disbelief. “The vampire-hunting tramp and the serial killer’s daughter teamed up in America to become hunters that want to kill me?”

“Oh, you do remember them! That’s about the long and the short of it, yeah. Apparently you stole something from them after they kidnapped you?”

Jon’s mind was swimming again. If this was all a giant puzzle, evidently it had even more pieces than he had initially thought.

“Wait, Trevor Herbert... didn’t he die? I thought you said he died of lung cancer.”

“Oh god, not this again.” Martin muttered under his breath, the sound quiet enough that Jon wasn’t quite sure if he was meant to hear it.

“Again?” Jon repeated.

Martin’s face turned a bright pink. “This came up before once. I thought I’d heard that he’d died, but I must have mistaken, given that the guy’s still around... and, you know, out to kill you.”

Jon sighed, tempted to get in a dig about how Martin couldn’t even manage such basic research but instead only voicing a frustrated, “Great.”

“Though upside is, at least this time you’re not using that mistake as a reason to accuse me of murder.” Martin paused for a moment, and when he spoke up again, his words were softer, his voice subtly shaking. “You’re not accusing me of murder now, right?”

Jon nodded silently. He wasn’t sure how much he could trust Martin right now, whether his ramblings were haphazard lies or just flawed attempts at explaining a complicated truth, but even if he let his paranoia run wild, murder wasn’t on the list of misdeeds he could imagine of Martin at the moment.

“That’s... good. Certainly better than the alternative, anyway.” Martin let out a short bark of a laugh.

“Why did I think you killed someone, anyway?”

“Good question.” Martin laughed again, but there was no humor to the sound this time. “After I found Gertrude’s body, we weren’t sure who killed her, and you got all paranoid thinking someone you worked with was the killer, and that they’d be after you next. Which wasn’t entirely wrong, I guess, since Sasha’d just... gotten replaced.”

“Is that, that Not-Sasha thing the thing that killed Gertrude too, then?”

Martin shook his head, and Jon was struck by the sight of his wild red hair moving to and fro, how his streak of white strands mingled with the rest as it fell around his face. “No, that was... now, this might sound a bit crazy-”

“Because the rest of it hasn’t already.” Jon muttered in a low voice, more for his own benefit than for Martin’s.

Jon wasn’t sure whether Martin could make out what he had said, but he was greeted with a weary stare just the same. “-but I promise it’s true--Elias killed Gertrude.”

“Elias?” Jon furrowed his brow. “Why would he kill Gertrude Robinson?”

“Because she was planning on destroying the Archives, and him in the process. Almost self-defense, in a way, if you want to be generous towards him, which I really don’t.”

“Gertrude was the Head Archivist; why would she want to destroy the Archives?”

“Because they’re evil, Jon!” Martin threw his hands in the air. “Because we work for an evil organization dedicated to an evil fear power, and the Archives are the worst of it--well, besides Elias himself, anyway. On top of killing Gertrude, and then killing Leitner and framing you for it, he’s the one who made the Institute such a mess in the first place.”

Once again, Jon was finding a lot of information being thrown at him in a short period of time. Martin had mentioned Leitner before, but not that the man was dead, a murder Jon apparently was framed for--was that why he’d been “on the run” before, or was that a separate, equally-chaotic brush with the law?

(Also, some small, dark part of Jon that had hardened in place when he was eight years old was a little bitter that he wasn’t the reason Jurgen Leitner was now dead and buried.)

But that wasn’t what first came to mind when Jon opened his mouth to make a rebuttal, though whether he cared more about proving his knowledge or simply clarifying the situation Jon couldn’t say.

“From what I’ve seen, it sounds like the Institute was a mess well before Elias got a hold of it. If anything, Jonah Magnus should get the blame there.”

“Yeah, yeah he should, you’re not wrong! But the point’s moot, because Jonah Magnus is Elias.”

“...what?”

“He’s been, been swapping bodies or whatever for two centuries now, keeping a hold on his precious Institute.” Martin made a series of vague hand gestures to accompany his words, though their exact meaning eluded Jon. “Probably has some master plan involving the place. He was James Wright, too, and whoever was the Head before that, but now he’s Elias Bouchard. The whole Institute exists just to be some creepy monument to the Eye, to suck in power from his fear god.”

Jon’s head was starting to hurt something fierce, and as he realized one of the many implications of this latest tidbit of knowledge, his heart started to pound almost as fiercely as his head.

“...you said I have powers from the Eye, too, because I’m the head archivist. The same ‘fear god’ Elias has, according to you. Does that make me evil, then?”

Jon had hoped that Martin would eke out a quick “No,” maybe add in a bit of comforting reassurance, move on from the question quickly enough.

Instead, Martin hesitated for a long moment, and when he spoke up, it wasn’t to give Jon the simple “no” that he so dearly craved.

“I mean, not exactly, but... it’s complicated. You certainly can do evil things, or, or unnatural ones, with your powers--make people spill their deepest secrets, I think you cut off your finger once and it just grew right back?--but I know you try not to do that sort of thing... most of the time, anyway. You’re not just some amoral monster like Prentiss was when she attacked--I mean, obviously not, or else we’d be having a whole different conversation--but you’re also not... entirely human, thanks to your connection with the Eye. I wouldn’t say you’re evil, but the Eye is, and sometimes it’s hard to tell where you end and it begins.”

“...Christ.”

“Yeah, I know, this has to be a lot to take in, and I’m here to support you however you need me to...”

Jon looked around at his mostly-empty plate, at the dreary weather outside the window, at the safehouse and its thrown-together furniture and the half-done jigsaw puzzle on the far table, and his head swam as he tried to take it all in.

“Does that ‘support’ include you doing the dishes? I think I need a nap.”

Martin looked at Jon quizzically, though he obediently started clearing the table. “Jon, you just woke up.”

“Yes, and I’m going to take a nap now. I think I could use it; my head’s hurting pretty badly right now.” It wasn’t a lie, not exactly, but also Jon just wanted some time to himself, to think things through without Martin’s presence or input.

“Need a paracetamol? We’ve got a few in the bathroom cabinet.”

Jon noticed the way Martin casually, unblinkingly referred to the two of them as “we,” implying that their possessions were one and the same, but he didn’t have the mental energy to parse all the implications behind that single word right that moment.

“Maybe after my nap. We’ll see.”

“Alright then. Just... just come calling if you need anything, alright? I’m not going anywhere.” Martin shot Jon a weak smile as he finished that last sentence, and Jon wondered if there was something he was missing there, some inside joke or connection that was lost to him now.

“Will do.”

The bedroom was still small and awkwardly-decorated and the bed was still far too big for Jon alone, but as he lay there, trying his best to mentally put together the pieces to this convoluted puzzle, Jon was glad that he had some space to decompress on his own, tiny and awkward though that space might be.

[quiet-kunoichi]

“ every piece of me is made from what you did to me. ”

[ lost meme | @suck-my-tomato | verse; post modern ]

The city lights are fuzzy; little halos of color either holding still or blinking in the near distance. She's on her fourth cigarette — chain smoking through the fresh pack in the hopes that she'll smoke out every last molecule of oxygen in her lungs. Each one was gnawed down to the filter before she flicked them over the edge and watched the free fall with a churn of jealousy. The rooftop of her 17-story apartment building was usually vacant; and especially so, at this hour. But for whatever god forsaken reason, Sasuke had conjured at her side. He's quiet; almost as if respecting her chosen solitude. How he wound up finding her, Kimiko didn't bother asking. She wish he hadn't bothered: her mind was made up already, but his presence only made things harder than they had to be. He doesn't say anything, and neither does she. A stalemate is formed in the wake of their strangled silence — all of those things left unsaid were discarded like the flick of excess ashes. "You said you wouldn't leave again." His voice rolls over the background trill of an ambulance siren; Kimiko's sunken and dulled stare trails the miniature vehicle as though mildly entertained by the flashing lights and the curiosity of who was awaiting their arrival. Her exhale of secondhand smoke filters through pressed lips, cancer hanging from them as she taps her thumb on the rim of her open bottle. It was well tended to: she'd been nursing the amber liquid for the majority of the night. "I'm right here, aren't I?" She replies to him, voice raspy. Another little swig is passed through her lips in the hopes that it'll provide some lubricant for her throat. Since he was here to have yet another 'talk.' At least it couldn't end as horridly as the last one did — his rejection in lieu of their reignition had sent the naively hopeful Tamashi reeling. 'I can't do this. I've changed; I don't cheat anymore.' The taste of that wretched poison still remained stained on the back of her tongue. No amount of whiskey could wash it down, though she's been giving it a good try. Kimiko had begun to believe that no amount of liquor would make that horrid truth dissipate. Someone deserved the newly-loyal version of Sasuke.. but Kimiko would never get that kind of special treatment. She would never be his 'someone', again. "You stopped showing up to meetings." Sasuke explains on the exhale of a little sigh. If Kimiko had bothered to look over at him, she'd noticed that not only was he refusing to look at her as well, but that tear-tracks were engraved into his cheeks. The two had become fairly fluent in the language of shedding their pain silently when next to one another. "You stopped responding to me." He adds this on quieter, and she can hear the shift of his rain jacket as he adjusts uncomfortably. Kimiko didn't have the stomach to block his number, this time. But the duality of their fallen-star situation included not having the guts to pick up the phone when his name and number lit up the screen. In truth, she wasn't taking this rejection well ( obviously ). The murmured words of endearment they had shared, the mutual look of delicate yearning, and the hesitancy of their lips meeting that quickly thereafter bloomed into indescribable passion — it had elicited a wash of relief over the weary girl. He understood her at last. He needed her just as much as she needed him. He still loved her. Or, at least — Kimiko had hoped he did. But then his phone buzzed right off of the table and he separated from their soft collision: and then he decided right then and there that Kimiko still wasn't enough. Or perhaps just too much. Either way it hurt. And it shouldn't have. It should have been expected, after all that time being the girl on the outskirts of his attentions; swept into the eye of the storm by her own persistence before she ( reluctantly, violently, silently, unfairly ) tore herself away until the cycle rolled over unto itself once again. "Why do you bother with me?" She asks at last, her voice strung in a loose drawl as she flicks the butt of her fourth

cigarette over the ledge of the building. "I'm nobody." Kimiko acknowledges her version of the truth as though it were simple fact. Following it is another sip from the bottle. He's saying something, and his voice sounds careful — like he was playing minesweeper and the stakes were unbelievably high. Unfortunately, Kimiko cannot even bring herself to listen: that horrid ache is back in her chest, calling glaring attention to the obvious hollow in the cavity. Gods, she was so tired of this existence. Everyone expected so much out of the girl who was worn down beyond her means to give. Even now, she was probably being judged and ridiculed for the ways in which she chose to cope: Sasuke probably assumed that he alone was the sole cause of all her woes, and he couldn't be further from the truth. But now she had nothing; except for a whole lot of pain. An unfillable ache that used to pang every now and again but had steadily worsened into a constant, unignorable throb. Something plucks the fabric of her jacket in between her shoulder blades and tugs her back a step ( or two, for she stumbled ). Kimiko rouses from her dissociative spell just in time to hear his request that she 'stop hanging over the ledge of the building, like that.' She hadn't even noticed; it's not like it very much mattered anyway. Everyone dies, she was well aware — and after playing the role of marionette all her life, the sole Tamashi ought to have a choice in her own demise, at the very least. But she heeds his warning, hands dipping into her pockets only to peek at her carton and realize that she'd run herself dry. Yeah, go figure. She'd be pissed at herself, if she even had the energy to be anything in this moment other than dully despondent ( but mostly numb ). Sasuke is speaking again, perhaps trying to get through to the girl; but she's hardly present for any of it. The rain has begun to shed tears upon the two, and Kimiko lifts her chin to the sky in quiet acceptance. “ every piece of me is made from what you did to me. ” It's one of the only sentences that got through to her. Droplets run down her face and blend in with her expressionless tears; or so she hopes. If that was supposed to slice her through, if it was supposed to provide some sort of comfort in knowing that she had left any kind of impact upon the Uchiha, — it didn't. She told herself that it didn't, blinking past the wet that collected in her lashes and regarding him as though he were a mere stranger. But he wasn't, and she resented herself for still hanging onto his every word as though they alone would decide her fate. His lingering stare is tumultuous, like the roiling waves of the sea. Whether he was hurt, afraid, disgusted, pleading, hopeful — her response wouldn't have changed. "You don't think I'm well enough aware of what I've done to you? You don't think that every single action and inaction on my behalf doesn't stick to me, make it harder to go through the simple motions of my day?" Her tone is clipped, or it could expose her obvious exhaustion: she wanted to be frustrated, but her tank had been neglected and left on E. Instead, she just hums a little sigh, shoulders dipped beneath the weight of all she'd been made to carry over the years. "As much as I'd love to stick around and hear the details of all the ways I've wounded you," I think I'd rather die. "I think I'd rather just be alone." So, she turns and heads towards the door to return to her mothball infested apartment just to hear the sound of those letters as they crinkle forgotten under her foot. "I'm not walking out," She responds towards the door with the kind of strain that comes with persistent pressure upon an otherwise debilitated psyche. Hand upon the cool brass as the rain starts to pick up to an unrelenting downpour, Kimiko hesitates. This was so difficult; how the Tamashi wished for just one thing to be easy, like it used to be. For despite having nary a sliver of energy left in her shell, she decides to whittle her bones and dole out what little lie she could afford to sell him. "I just

need a little space right now. I'm trying to do what's best for you, for both of us. Just.. Trying to let go." So it wasn't totally a lie; though she wasn't trying nearly as hard as she ought to be. Turning her cheek to her shoulder, Kimiko lifts a single dimmed headlight beam and captures his lonesome visage upon the rooftop. It aches, oh how it fucking aches beyond belief. To leave him up here, abandon him despite his effort to find her. If she could have it her way, Kimiko would have encircled him into a permanent embrace — but it wasn't what he wanted, and no one deserved a disease. ".. I'll see you at next week's meeting, Sasuke." So she had it in herself to dish out one last measly lie, after all.

[roodllle]

Year in Review - Animal Crossing New Horizons

I started writing this review/criticism in May of 2020 but decided to update it as the year went along and post it on the anniversary of NH’s release. I would like to preface that this is mostly going to be full of questions of criticisms, I love this game. I have not been able to put it down since I got it on March 20th. My first AC game was NL and then I played HHD. I was ecstatic when they announced NH at E3 2019 and kept trying to find other games to fit in my AC shaped hole in my heart but I wasn’t able to fill it till this game came out. I feel like the pace of the game is great with how you build up to unlocking terraforming and 5 stars, and I feel like the updates are well timed especially with how crazy 2020 was for everybody. That being said there were some things that irked me. 

Some of the points I will bring up came from other people/commenters I have seen on here, Discord, Reddit, and Twitter that I also agree with. Some other points are from Youtubers such as ShayMay and ChuyPlays. And others are from me. 

With that out of the way, let’s get on with the review. Warning, I guess, don’t expect this to be an essay, this is just a patchwork quilt made up of thoughts.

Terraforming

I wish cliffs/tiers had a smaller level? Like how we’re able to make stepping stones for our rivers if we don’t want to put a bridge down/use our vaulting pole. I just wish there was a cliff alternative. 

Another cliff alternative would be if we could put bridges between cliffs. I think we’ve all been there where we see this picture 

          thought ‘we can do that!!” then realized it was photoshopped

When we go into terraforming, I wish a grid showed up on our island. It would make it much easier to avoid hitting the wrong square when I’m trying to change a river. 

Having us be able to “close” a waterfall from a lower level but not create a new on at the same spot. 

Also the fact we can add a 4th tier but can’t put anything on it is just strange to me. I know we have to have a limit to how high we can go, but at least let me put nature stuff, such as trees/flowers/bushes, on top of it instead of just a flat piece of land. 

Houses

Why no ceiling items? Find it odd they added a bunch of stuff in HHD and didn’t add that to the new mainline game

There’s no reason I can think of to why we can’t access our storage when we’re crafting inside our house. 

Buildings

Dodo Airlines

The Dodo Islands right now are very boring and barely use them. I have enough money and materials to not go farming and save up all my NMTs for when I go villager hunting, which has also become a rarity. I think it would be a good idea to make some islands seasoned themed. Have them be all rare, but have an island where it’s fall and has maple leaves falling, a cherry blossom one, one with snowflakes. I wouldn’t recommend they make Holiday themed ones, but having seasonal ones would be nice.

When I mess up a dodo code or accidentally hit ‘make a bridge’ instead of incline, etc. why do I have to restart the ENTIRE conversation instead of the characters just being “oh? did you mean “x” or “would you like to retype it?” like is it that hard??  

Resident Services

As much as I love Isabelle this game has made me very indifferent towards her. I think they gave her a role that didn’t need to exist. They could have either let us roam around without any warnings to who was roaming around our island, in the campsite, or any weather updates. Just have us rely on our villagers, the TV, and our eyeballs. OR they could have given us a social media like app and/or a weather app. Instead, they gave us Isabelle that only announces something once a month.

Nook’s Cranny

This might just be me but can they add a little DIY area in the store? Maybe just make to where you can only customize things?? This is more out of convenience than an actual problem  

Speaking of customization, since you can make medicine but also buy can we do the same for the custom kits and bait. Like make it where we can buy bait and also make our own custom kits? I just think it’s weird that they give us either/or for medicine but not for the other 2 that I honestly use way more than medicine.

Why do the Able Sisters get to have all of the colors of an item in their shop but Nook’s Cranny can’t? And why can’t we just be able to customize all items that have multiple looks/colors? Example, why can’t I just be able to change the wood type for the antique set instead of having to buy each one? I get that the furniture catalog is already small, but that’s not my fault. They’ve decided to not add past furniture sets into NH. 

Able Sisters

Let us multi select clothes instead of it just being how much we can wear. idc if it’ll just put those clothes in our personal storage and then we’ll have to run home and put it in that storage, I just hate having to walk back in and out every time I want a dress in multi colors. ALSO tell us if we already bought it, like a little storage icon or something

Why can’t we hang any article of clothing on the back wall, why do we have to either make it or have the OG qr designer come to our island? 

Why can’t we have the transparent option when designing clothes? I think it would make many designer’s lives easier instead of having to make 8 versions of the same outfit.

NPCs

I have played this game almost every day since it came out, minus 2 days. I have also been able to make friends on discord that help with trading/cataloging/etc. I have all of Saharah’s, Kicks’, Label’s, and Redd’s items. I have all of the fish/bug models I want and have no desire to “catch them all”. I haven’t talked to Wisp in months because I have most of the items and his idea of “expensive” is 10k bells. The only NPC I actively look forward to is Celeste because even though I now have all of her DIYs, she still gives out star fragments, regular large or horoscope, when I talk to her. 

What I’m wondering is if they’re planning on doing anything else with these characters. Before I speak further I’m going to weed out characters that I am actually fine with. CJ and Flick will always be there if I want a bug/fish model, I understand that Saharah/Kicks/Redd have a ton of stuff to get and w/o the help of my discord friends, I probably wouldn’t have gotten everything till late 2021. 

So that leaves Label and Wisp. I understand Wisp is there for beginners, but now that I’m at a point where I am a bell millionaire and have most of the Nook’s items cataloged, there is no reason for me to talk to him. I wish Nintendo had put in a system where depending on the person who Wisp is talking to, it determines how much money you have in your bank account/looks at your catalog, Wisp’s item’s worth goes up.

As for Label...I never saw her as viable. I also thought the tickets were dumb and you don’t even have to talk to her to have her items show up in the shop the next day. I think it would be great if when you bought all of her items, she decided to join the Able’s sisters in their shop like in NL and then have Gracie show up in her place for the weekly NPC. 

Where is Blanca? Or Brewster? Or Shrunk, Katrina, Gracie, or Kapp’n and his family? I understand we will probably never see characters like Harriet or Pete because they have been replaced by a new system, but what is the excuse for these other characters? I’m hoping they show up in year 2 of NH but...we’ll see.

Villagers

I think having your first villagers living in basic homes is a good idea but one that quickly gets annoying. I found Sherb while villager hunting for the 1st time and have had him ever since, but his house is stuck at basic lazy setup. Instead of me going back and forth on whether or not i should trust somebody enough to hold Sherb, get somebody else out, then get him to move back to my island, You can have it to where you let them leave, then just wait till he comes to the campsite to visit and reinvite him. You get his actual house and he still remembers you. This could also go for you accidentally letting somebody go or letting somebody go then regretting it. Also it’d be fun to see some old villagers again.

I was curious and looked back on past games to see how many new villagers were released each game and NH has been the least amount. NL released 112 new villagers in total while NH has released 8. I’m hoping they might release more down the line but, hella disappointing imo. Along with the Sanrio update and adding those characters to the game, I am more hopeful that they’ll be adding new characters!

Having an “event” of sorts where you visit a villager’s house and they’re looking inside their closet. They look at you in surprise when you walk in and sheepishly explain that they were going through their clothes/items. They then decide to ask you for help since they can’t decide what to get rid of/what to keep and think you have a good eye for that sort of thing. Basically, a way to get rid of any clothes/items your villager somehow received bc I guess Isabelle scolding them isn’t enough.

A big problem I feel like everybody has is the villager dialogue. Yes they added sub personality types for each personality but they are not perfectly cut in half, ex. are the Sisterly types where there are 4 B types and 20 A types, like?? How I have “fixed” this problem is by having one of each personality type on my island so I always have different conversations with my villagers, but I understand not a lot of people do that. Some people just want normal/peppy types on their island bc they’re cute as hell, I get it. I know it would be...difficult to come up with unique dialogue for all 399 villagers, including Sanrio, but....you could at least for the “gimmicky” villagers. Some examples of these villagers are Ribbot and Sprocket, Lucky and Ankha, the super hero squad, and Kabuki. 

Quality Life stuff

Why cant we sit AND wish on stars? And I don’t mean the sit emote; why can’t I sit on a bench and wish on stars?

It sucks when I’m about to hit my rocks or just do a lot of dig work and then my shovel breaks in the middle of it. To show the tool is about to break, cracks should start to form on the handle and get deeper/longer as you keep using it, starting when you have 5 uses left. You can also add an auditory element by making the tool sound like its struggling when you are using it. Net/Shovel/Axe/Fishing Pole can have cracks show up on the handle, Slingshot can have crack show up at the bottom of the 2 spokes while having 1 at the top of the handle. And the watering can have cracks at the base of the can.

If our inventory is full when I dig up a flower, why can’t I replace it with another flower to bury? And if I can dig up an item at an diagonal item, I should be able to bury it again at the same angle.

Other

Having more...liveliness?? on the island, idk how else to say it. Example is whenever you travel by plane there's a chemtrail in the sky afterwards, maybe just seeing other planes go by throughout the day. Maybe you can get a hint Redd or Gulliver will be visiting you tomorrow if you see their boats beyond the horizon, Redd’s just crusin’ and the Gulls’ boats looking messed up. On a week where you don't have a new camper, maybe have an old villager visit. That leads me too

I wish villager’s doors could count as “exterior decorating” and we can just put any ornamental on there instead having to hope that your villager will put the wreath on their own door. 

Conclusion

If you read this whole thing holy shit, thanks!! Go treat yourself on my part lol If you disagreed with me or whatever feel free to chat with me about it! 

[steves-on-a-plane]

Run. (Pt 1)

Run. Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six  / Part Seven Words: 2132 Pairing: Tony Stark & Reader Timeline: Pre-Iron Man [1990, 1991, & 2000] Other Info: Run AU Summary: Reader is Tony Stark’s best friend and is flying across the country to start college. Tony is obviously nervous about Reader going away and makes her promise to call if she ever needs anything.  Author’s Note: This It’s an AU Based on HBO’s new series Run. Mostly just based on the concept of the show which is that when one character texts ‘Run’ to the another character, if the second character texts ‘Run’ back they’ll meet up and run away together. They didn’t have texting in 1990, so I had to improvise a bit. I really like this idea and will do more parts to this story if it does well. 

September 1990

“I’m really going to miss you.” You confessed as you stood outside of the airport security. Your one hand was gripped tightly around a carry-on bag, the other on the shoulder of your best friend.

“I’ve already told you not to go a hundred times.” He yawned impatiently. “College is overrated.”

“That’s easy for you to say in your third year of MIT. You’re almost done. I’m only just getting started.” You reminded him.

“And I am proof that college does nothing for you, just ask my old man.” He scoffed.

“He’s not so bad.” You rolled your eyes. “He just needs a chance to get to know you better.”

“The man’s had seventeen years [Y/N]. I think we know as much about each other as we’re ever going to.” Tony sighed.

“I really have to go, I don’t want to miss my flight.” You told him apologetically.

“Sure, of course.” He nodded. “Oh but before you do, I want you to take this.” Tony handed you a small box hastily wrapped box. “Open it.” He insisted. You let go of your suitcase and unwrapped the package with both hands. Inside was a cellphone.

“Tony, these are really expensive. I can’t take this.” You insisted.

“They’re not that much.” He waved you off. “It was only like $1,00 bucks.” He shrugged. “And I’m footing the monthly bill for it, alright? There’s just one condition.”

“Always a catch, isn’t there Stark?” You laughed, still marveling at the piece of technology in your hands. Your own parents didn’t even have cellphones.

“Listen, I’m not kidding college sucks. Moving to the other side of the country away from your friends and family sucks more.” Tony said. “So, the only condition if you want to keep this cellphone is that if you get into any kind of trouble or you just can’t take it anymore. You call me. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night or I’m in the middle of a class. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. Leave me a voicemail with only one word if you have to.”

“What should this one word be?” You asked. “We should pick it now, so we’ll know exactly what it is and it should work both ways. You call me and say the word if you need me too.”

“Okay. What’s our word? Better think quickly, because you’ve still got to catch that flight.” He reminded you.

“Run.” You decided. “If you ever call me and or I call you we just say ‘Run’ and hang up and the other will know what it means. Okay?”

“Okay.” Tony nodded. He kissed you on the cheek before ushering you into the security coral. He waited until he couldn’t see you anymore before turning and walking out of the airport.

December 17, 1991

It was the middle of the night. Your school had already ended the first semester of the school year. Your roommates had all driven or flown home to see their families. You were the last one at home, with a flight scheduled the next afternoon. You’d been awakened by strange chimes that were different than your usual alarm clock. Someone else must have left their alarm on before leaving for vacation. You thought as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. You turned on your bedside lamp and realized as your brain started to catch up, that it wasn’t an alarm clock chirping at all.

It was the ringtone on the cellphone that Tony had given you over a year ago. You’d used it a few times to talk with him or your parents back home, but you used it so infrequently that you often forgot that it even existed. By the time you fond the cellphone, beeping incessantly in your desk drawer, you had missed the call. You saw from the home screen that you missed a call from Tony. You called the voicemail number to see of if he’d left you a message.

“Hey ah, I don’t know if you remember this but, run. Anyway, if you remember what that means I, ah, I need you, Kid. How soon can you get home?

Luckily, you’d already planned on flying home. A quick glance at the clock told you your flight was scheduled to depart in three hours. You knew you’d be too anxious to sleep now knowing that Tony had called you. So, you decided to gather your things and head for the airport. In the cab ride over you called Tony back, he sent you right to voicemail.

“Tony it’s me. I understand if you don’t want to talk. I just want you to know that I got your message and I’m on my way to the airport. It’s a five-hour flight that leaves in three hours. Your house is my first destination after I land.”

When you landed eight hours later, Tony was standing in the airport pickup. His eyes were red and puffy like he’d been crying. He looked tired and his walk lacked its usual bounce. He pulled you close and wrapped his arms around you. He held you silently for several seconds.

“Thank god you’re here.” He whispered finally.

“Tony, now that I’m here, will you please tell me what’s go in?” You asked, not daring to pull away from him.

“They’re gone.” He told you quietly. “Howard and my mom.”

“Oh Tony.” You let go of the bags in your hands and wrapped your arms around him trying to pull him closer.

January 2000

“There she is, my second favorite person in the world!” Tony Stark entered the diner with the same usual boisterous swagger you’d grown used to over time.

“Second favorite?” You repeated, getting up from the counter stool so that you could hug him properly.

“Sure, c’mon who isn’t their own favorite person?” He laughed before dropping into a stool next to you. “It’s good to see you. It’s been awhile.”

“A month.” You nodded. “That’s the longest we’ve been apart since…”

“Since my parent died?” He interjected. “It’s okay you don’t have to dance around it, no one else ever does. Besides,” He pat your hand encouragingly. “We’re not here to talk about me, are we?” Tony pulled his phone out of his pocket and slid it across the counter towards you. You didn’t need to look down to see what he was showing you, but you did anyway. Open on the screen was a text conversation between the two of you. The most recent text was from you. Run. The usual place.

“I didn’t know if you’d remember.” You replied.

“Of course, I remembered.” Tony said. “The usual place, that part took a little while to work out. Then I remembered your unfathomable love for milkshakes and all the times you’ve dragged me here at ungodly hours of the night for one.” He gestured towards the strawberry milkshake that you’d ordered when you first arrived.

“I can’t help it if it’s the only place open that late that will serve me a milkshake!” You laughed. You reached over and sipped from your milkshake. Tony waited patiently for you to explain what was going on.

“So, what have you been up to?” You asked quietly.

“Oh, you know, working on stuff for the company. Dealing with the board members. That sort of thing. The end of the quarter is coming up, so things have been hectic.” He explained dryly. “How are things with you?” You sighed and closed your eyes. When you opened them, Tony’s face was much closer to yours. His warm brown eyes were watching you carefully.

“I have to move back to California.” You finally confessed.

“Oh. Oh, that’s what you’re worried about? If you want to move back to California, that’s not so bad. I’ve got the place in Malibu; we’ll still see each other all the time.” Tony breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought you were going to tell me something crazy like you were engaged or pregnant. Moving? You moved to California before.”

“Well…”

“Well? What’s ‘well’ mean?” Tony pushed.

“You’ve met Michael, right?” You bit your lip.

“Michael, the architect you’ve been dating for three years? We may have crossed paths once or twice.” Tony laughed. “Don’t tell me he proposed to you! Uh, he seems like the type to take you to a restaurant and put the ring in something; your drink, your desert. Where did he hide the ring, [Y/N]?”

“It’s nothing like that.” You assured him. “because he hasn’t actual proposed yet. But I am pregnant.” Tony stared at you blankly. You could practically see the circuits buzzing in his mind as he tried to process what you’d just said.

“You gotta give me something here, [Y/N].” He confessed at last. “Are we happy? Are we angry? Are we terrified? Whatever you need me to be I’m there.”

“Um, all three I think.” You told him.

“You’re going to need another milkshake. Can you have a milkshake when you’re…like that?” He asked, suddenly worried.

“Yes, Tony. I can have milkshakes.” You assured him.

“Alright, two milkshakes coming up.” Tony placed an order with the waitress behind the counter before looking back over at you. “So California?”

“Michael needs to move there for work and I can’t exactly raise a tiny human alone.” You pointed out.

“So don’t go.” Tony shrugged as if it were that simple.

“Tony…” You tried to argue but he interrupted you.

“No.” He shook his head. “You can stay here, and I-I’ll pay for everything. You wont have to lift a finger! We’ll get the kid nannies and tutors and we could get a butler. Are there still butlers in Y-two-K? Can a person go to school for butlering?”

“Tony, you hated all of your nannies and most of your tutors.” You reminded him. “Plus my kid deserves to know their dad, and Michael deserves the chance to be one.”

“Do you love him?” Tony blurted out.

“How could you ask me that?” You gasped.

“I want an answer, [Y/N]. Do you love him?” Tony pried. “Because you’ve been together for three years and you still have separate apartments. The man alphabetizes his CDs! He chews with his mouth open! More importantly, you told him that you’re pregnant and he hasn’t even suggested getting married?”

“Tony, don’t do this.” You begged him.

“Don’t make you say it out loud?” Tony held up his hands defensively. “That’s fine, no answer is just as good as saying it in my book. So, you don’t love him. Then don’t marry him. You want to move to California and give him a chance to be there for his kid? That’s fine. Don’t marry him.”

The waitress came by with your new milkshake order. Tony thanked her with a nod and buried his face in his hands. He sat like that in silence for several seconds. When he finally dragged his fingers from his forehead to his chin and eventually off his face entirely, his expression was a mask of composer.

“I want to renegotiate our deal.” He told you calmly.

“Our deal? A deal we made twenty-two years ago, when we were kids?” You asked him.

“I have a bad feeling about all of this.” He gestured between the two of you before pointing at your stomach. “Not the baby, about Michael. So, I want you to know that I’ll always be there for you. New rule. If one of us text run, and the other person texts run back, we don’t just drop what we’re doing. We pick a place to meet and we just go there and run away from our lives together.”  

“Tony…” This time you let your sentence trail off on its own. An awkward beat past between the two of you.

“I’m serious, [Y/N]. You called me here, because you must, in some part of your brain, somewhere, think that this is a bad idea. Run is for emergencies and if you’re asking for my permission to move across the country to raise a kid with a guy you don’t love, this is how you get it. If you text run, I text run back and we drop what we’re doing. We hop on a plane, or train or whatever. We meet…in…Grand Central Station. We’ll get on a train together and leave everything else behind.”

“Okay.” You nodded. “Fine. If that’s what it’s going to take to easy your mind about the whole situation, fine, but only if my kid gets to call you Uncle Tony when they’re old enough to, and you promise that this doesn’t change anything between us. You’re still my best friend.”

“Alright then.” Tony sighed, reaching for his milkshake. “Call me Uncle Tony.”

[fantasticstoryteller]

New Dynasty Chapter 19

After they got home—

[Peter even called it home!]

{See that? You were worried for nothing. He loves us. Even if we do kill people.}

Not as much anymore!

Wade led the girl to her room and said she could decorate it any way she wanted. She watched him for a moment, head tilted to the side and eyes narrowed as if considering him. Then she pointed her wrist at the wall, spat a thread of spider silk, and hung a shirt on it before looking at him, both arms loosely at her sides.

That was—not what he was expecting. “Okay,” said Wade, “but we got you those clothes to wear. Can you get it down again, without ripping it?” She went to the wall, gave it a tug, and the shirt came off neatly. Wade grinned at her, not that she could see through the mask. “I’ll leave you to it!” he said cheerfully.

[Didn’t it occur to anyone that she’d need a dresser?]

{Why? Since she literally climbs the walls she has tons of space for her clothes!}

I’ll talk to Peter about it. Surely Peter, as a fellow wall crawler, would know if the kid actually needed a dresser. Whether or not she did, she certainly needed toys of some kind. But what kind? She’d never been exposed to—well, much of anything aside from the bed Pepper picked out. He had no idea what she might like.

He sat on the couch. The couch, like the rest of the furniture in the living room, was rust red with dark, almost black striations through the fabric. He didn’t really like the color, especially since the rest of the living room was cream.

Wade, you frequently come home covered in blood and drop on the nearest soft surface.

So? Wade knew he was whining, but didn’t care. It’d been a long few days for him.

So, you need something that doesn’t show the stains as much. Look up, Wade.

Wade looked up to see the girl staring at him. Her eyes were wide and she was sucking her thumb again. “Um, hi,” he said nervously. “Finish your room?” She nodded.

Staring at the child Wade realized he had no idea what children really liked, or wanted. He mentally scrolled all he knew of children from movies. “Do you want something to drink?” he asked. She shook her head. “Something to eat?” Another shake. “A story?”

In an insanely quick move she was suddenly in his lap looking up at him expectantly, still sucking on her thumb.

[Wow! She’s fast!]

{Great job genius. Do you even know any stories?}

“How about the time I first met Spidey?” Wade asked. The girl’s eyes widened for a moment and she nodded, thumb still in her mouth. “Once upon a time,” Wade began, since he’d heard that was how most stories started—or at least all the good ones. “I was an evil—” He paused and looked at the child. He didn’t know much about children, but cursing wasn’t good for them, was it?

[Curse too much around her and she might grow up like us.]

{No!}

“Evil man,” Wade said, editing what he’d originally been going to say. “I took jobs for—other evil men, and I—” He looked down into those wide, trusting amber eyes and knew he couldn't say it. He couldn't say that he killed people for a living. “I—uh—I made people un-alive,” he finished lamely. “I got paid a lot for it too,” he admitted, feeling ashamed. The girl just watched him as he talked and he continued. “One day, one of the evil men came up and offered me a lot of money to kill Spiderman.” Her eyes widened and he nodded solemnly. “I know! Well, I know now, but at the time all I knew was that Spiderman existed. I didn’t know what a wonderful, totally awesome superhero he is!”

[Move on. You’re boring us.]

{I don’t know. I want to hear more about how great Spiderman is.}

“So, since I couldn't—uh, un-alive Spiderman from the city I was in—I think I was in Detroit, or Hong Kong, or something—I came to New York to meet the Amazing Spiderman Suit to Suit. And you know what?” he asked. The girl shook her head, eyes wide and clearly enthralled. Wade threw his arms wide. “He was amazing! The best person I’ve ever met! I couldn’t ki—un-alive him after that, now could I?” She shook her head quickly, looking fascinated. “So, that’s what I told the evil man. He didn’t take the news well and tried to—uh, un-alive me, but I survived!” The girl gently thumped his chest a few times with her free hand.

[I think she’s clapping.]

{Weird kid.}

“Okay,” said Peter reaching over Wade.

[Hot damn! I didn’t even know he was home!]

{Can we not ogle the cutie in front of the child?}

Peter glanced at Wade. “Be nice,” he scolded the boxes before picking the child up out of Wade’s lap. Her eyes were wide as she clung to him. “As for you,” Peter said looking at her and walking down the hall, “it’s time for you to get ready for bed. Where are those pajamas you got today?”

Wade pads down the hall after them and sees Peter freeze when he looks up at the walls. The clothes are hung like bizarre art pieces. Some are flat against the wall, showing off the whole garment, and some were hanging by a dot, wrinkling it up.

[It looks pretty good. Like one of those deco art pieces.]

{Like you know anything about art!}

“That’s enough Yellow,” Peter said firmly as he pulled a pair of long sleeved pajamas (pink, of course) off the wall. “All right, go to the bathroom and get changed,” he told the girl. She nodded, grabbing the clothes from him. Peter looked up at Wade. “After we get her in bed, I need to talk to you.”

Wade felt his heart sink.

[That’s never good. I hope he’s not moving out.]

{I told you he’d be mad about the scientist lady!}

The girl returned in her pajamas. They spent far too short a time helping her finish getting ready for bed (brushing her teeth and hair, and that sort of thing) before tucking her in. Then they were in the living room. Wade braced himself for The Talk.

Usually, Peter sat next to Wade on the sofa. This time though, he’s sitting in an adjoining chair, facing Wade. “I talked to Tony, Pepper, and Dr. Banner.”

The family. Well, except for Aunt May, but she was still in the home. Excuse him, assisted living facility where people were making sure that her super fragile bones didn’t bump into corners—or walls. Or the carpet.

“We were talking about the children.” Peter’s brow furrowed like it always did when he was thinking of something he didn’t like. He shook his head and looked at Wade again. “Anyway, Pepper and Tony did something—slightly unethical.”

Wade tried to think of what they possibly could have done that Peter would find unethical. No, slightly unethical. He had no idea.

“Tony had Friday hack into the court systems,” Peter continued. Wade clutched at the couch cushion beneath him warily. “And we’re married.”

Wade blinked. And blinked. And blinked some more. Of anything that might have occurred to him—

[Not that anything did.]

—that wasn’t it. “Married?” he asked.

{Let’s have a honeymoon!}

[What if Peter doesn’t like the idea?]

“Wade?” asked Peter sounding worried. He leaned forward, face intent. “Are you okay?”

Married. Wade pushed the mask off, threw himself across the living room at Peter, and kissed the other man soundly on the mouth. “Married?” he asked again, happily.

Peter chuckled. “Married,” he agreed.