#closet full of lace ; visage .

[lovedlace]

pov: you, ur bestie, and ur spouses steal overpriced lipgloss and it escalates real fast

❥ late night doodles with @promiscxous <3

[unholyplumpprincess]

Fall Is Dick Riding Season

A commission for someone who does not want to be tagged. GN reader/Bloodhound for the one post of ‘It’s fall, which means it’s riding someone’s dick in their hoodie weather’.

Reblogs > Likes. It cost zero dollars to Reblog fics you like :D

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Bloodhound/Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, werewolf strap makes a come back which means KNOTTING, biting, bruising, feral Bloodhound, Bloodhound having their signature oral fixation, uhhh piercings?, Reader is gender neutral but explicitly written with a vulva!

Words: 2.8K

_________________

When autumn comes, it comes in slow like most seasons on this planet. The Apex arena changes beautiful colors, the normal green tones turning into warm oranges and yellows. The Leviathans that called the arena home didn’t seem bugged by the colder weather, happily chewing on the trees that changed color and not putting up a fuss.

When fall comes, it means that the legends have a month to relax. The season wouldn’t start back up until early spring so the wildlife would be just as lively and itching to go as the legends. However, this meant that your partner, Bloodhound, was itching for something to hunt after.

You didn’t blame them. They weren’t made for the domestic and quiet life. They preferred an active role. The games brought them a sense of accomplishment, both for their gods they worshiped and for themselves. Quite often you’d be left with one raven, whichever one was up for the arena that day went with Bloodhound, and know if they were having a good game or a bad depending on how the second raven reacted.

But, of course, when autumn comes, it means downtime.  

~Rest under the cut~

The first few days are nice. Bloodhound doesn’t stay in the dorms and instead comes home to the little cottage deep in the woods you two shared. Munnin and Arthur greet you as usual by latching onto your shoulders and fighting over who gets to be held like a baby first. But, not before you’re able to see Bloodhound tug off their mask and helmet. Approaching to kiss you softly with full, chapped lips and murmur against you adoringly in greeting of; “Hello, beloved.”

Once it finally starts getting cooler out, you open up the windows much to the ravens’ delights. But, much to your own dismay, Bloodhound starts to feel cooped up at home. Kissing you one morning and telling you that they won’t be gone long, that the Allfather wills their hands elsewhere.

And as always, you nod understandingly and sigh as they part from you with a loving rest of your foreheads together and their gloved hands brushing your waist.

That was five days ago they set out. Arthur was left behind this go around, settling down on the window sills or going about his own business. He demands cuddles quite often and treats you don’t let him have (except a few under the table that ‘slip’ from your grasp), but otherwise he provides nice enough company.

You get lonely on day five. Already itching for their company yesterday so you’d taken to raiding their closet.

You do it again today with less worry of it, tugging on one of their older, cozier hoodies. It’s big even on them and reaches mid-thigh for you. Black with the Apex logo on the back as you lift the collar and inhale their scent. Much to your delight they must have worn it a couple of times before deciding it was still clean and putting it away again.

To try and distract yourself from missing them, you have soon set out on your shared bed. Tucking your body against the window that you had open with the curtains pulled back. Letting air flow run throughout the room in a small, chilly breeze that caresses your bare legs that rub against the many furs underneath you.

You huff a bit as you lie down, settling on reading a book and trying to keep your eyes focused on it. Tucking the collar of the hoodie up to your nose to inhale the scent of it as you read.

Bloodhound always smelled good, similar to pine and something akin to violets and cinnamon. You smile at the thought, tugging the collar closer and sighing against it.

You think of them with a lazy, growing smile. Their red curls had been getting longer, about mid-back now and getting a bit less tame. You think about the way their lips feel on yours, softly molding and sharp teeth capturing your bottom lip. How their hands, rough and calloused from their hunts caress your hips as soft as ever to drag you closer. Hungry growls out of their throat if you press closer to them to fit your hips-

Your breathing is getting heavier, eyes fluttering as you let the book fall from your grip and off the bedside. You try to settle down, resting your hand on your abdomen and drumming there. However, your mind is hungry for it.

And what’s the matter with indulging anyway? They weren’t here- and if they were, you’re sure they wouldn’t mind you indulging IN them as well.

Your hand sneaks down, pulling the hoodie up and teasing at the edges of your underwear. You do as they would, toying with yourself as you rub at the slit of your heat through your panties. Tracing upwards and applying just enough pressure over your clit.

Your breath hitches and your head tilts to the side, biting your bottom lip as another breeze runs through the room and reminds you that you’re doing this right in front of an open window. Truly, that part didn’t matter, your home was far too into the woods to worry about neighbors. But, gods know if Arthur popped his little head in you’d feel mortified.

That is, until you hear the front door open and hear tell-tales boots. Your eyes snap open, pulling your hands away from yourself and perking up.

In no time you’re prodding down the steps, far more interesting in seeing your partner than jacking off. Peeking around the corner to see them pulling off their helmet. Shaking their long braid free as some curls frame and curl onto their face.

The steps creak as you take the next one, and their head shoots up to look at you. Eyes tired, but their singular good one trained on you like the predator they are.

“Is that my clothing?” They tease, a smile on their lips already as you smile sheepishly back. Bare feet padding on the ground as you reach them, wrapping your arms around their shoulders so they may do the same to your waist. They bury their nose into your hair, inhaling your familiar scent. You know they can smell it with the way they grip at your firmer.

You hear the edge of a growl and just about laugh as they try to pull a bit away, but you tug them closer. Urging them to tilt their head with your hand laced at the braid at the nape of their neck, pulling so you can kiss at the now exposed flesh.

“Elskan-” Their voice warns, and you hum in response. Letting your teeth catch their pierced lobe before kissing down their neck and nibbling over their pulse point.

Their claw-like nails dig at your hips through their gloves and you make a playful sound in reply.

“I can do the work,” You insist, voice low as you suck a hickey against their neck just to hear their breath hitch. “You don’t have to do anything. Just lie there and enjoy the view.”

“Tempting,” They breathe out, shuddering when your tongue flicks over the bruise blossoming on a peachy patch on their darker flesh. “Would you still wear this?” They murmur, letting their own hands gently tug at the hoodie.  

You hum in affirmation and let your hand drop to toy at the bottom of their few layers of shirts. Parting your lips so you can nip just beneath their ear. “As long as you aren’t wearing any of this in return.”

--

The journey to the bedroom is quick and hurried with your insistence. Bloodhound laughs at you as you help them out of their clothing, at least down to their tight muscle tank and boy shorts. They insist you keep wearing the hoodie again, as you dig around for one of their strap ons.

You don’t even realize which one you have in hand. Just helping them pull on the boy short-like harness and fitting the cock through. That is, until you recognize the bright red visage of said cock.

It’s one they very much enjoyed. Themed after a werewolf, a beast fit for someone like Bloodhound. It’s rather large, seven inches long not including the knot and as thick as three of your fingers. The knot was about baseball size and the ability to attach a syringe to the underside of it to fill with cum lube. Depending on if you wanted to get stuffed full more than with just a knot.

You swallow thickly and think about your decisions briefly as you lube it up. Making a show of jacking them off and applying extra lube as you tuck your now lubed up fingers under yourself. But before you can even get to do that, Bloodhound is pawing for you.

“None of that, my love. I can do this much for you.” Their voice is soft and adoring as you nod your head quickly. Letting them urge you up onto them, straddling either side of their head and pulling the hoodie up and over your chest. You hold it there with one hand, the other resting on the top of their head.

If there was one thing that was certain, it was that Bloodhound loved giving oral. Proof as their eyes flutter open half lidded, peering through thick lashes up at you as their mouth opens. Their pierced tongue licking from hole to clit and nosing at you afterwards.

They moan against you at the same time you whine. Bloodhound, for finally being able to taste you. You, for finally getting the stimulation you wanted.

Their clawed hands come up and over your thighs, locking you in place and digging the points into your flesh. Idly, you scritch at the top of their head and breathe out, “Good dog.” More on instinct than anything, but it makes their eyes flash dangerously. Their slit pupil widening as they lap at your clit hungrily.

It isn’t long before your grip in their hair is now two handed. Riding their face and eagerly moaning when their tongue presses into you. Their nose against your clit and their eyes closed, looking like they’re enjoying a meal intensely with the way they whine into you.

Eventually you’re begging, pulling at their hair and grinding your hips messily against their face. Bloodhound moves with you, gripping your thighs tight so you hold still and moaning low when you yank at their hair. They focus their tongue on licking feverishly against your clit until you’re cumming with a weak cry and small jerks of your hips.

Kitten licks are left on your clit as you shake and try to push at their head. “H-Hound- no, please- want to ride you- can't if y-you- you- you-” You try to sob out, but get cut off by your own high-pitched cry when Bloodhound licks at your slick hole, getting every bit they could out of you.

Greedy bastard.

With a few more begs and a few more pushes, they let you off. Allowing you to straddle their hips so you can finally catch how they look at you. Hungry eyes trained on your body, their lips shiny and wet, matching their chin before they wipe their mouth off on the back of their hand.  

They briefly flash you canines as they laugh at you. “Well? Come, show me what you have been waiting for since I have left, pretty one.” They coo towards the end as they gently tug at your hips with a relaxed stance about them. As if they were royalty and you were the entertainment.

They don’t rush you as you settle onto their cock. Easing the first few inches into yourself with a mewl. Your body is relaxed and certainly wet enough for it from Bloodhound’s talented tongue.

It takes a moment or two longer than you intend before the rim of your cunt is pressed to the larger beginnings of the knot. Stuffed full already as your arms shake, pressed to either side of Bloodhound’s head as you try to get your bearings.

“Too big?” They almost take a mock cooing tone for you. Bloodhound’s hands caressing underneath the hoodie to brush at your hips and sides, gently squeezing at the softness around your middle in appreciation.

You shake your head, huffing through your nose as you adjust to the size. Making a show of lifting your hips up and pressing back down with a choked breath and bowing your head at the sensation.

Goddamn it.

You can feel them grinning at you as your arms shake. But, determined as ever to get what you wanted and let them rest, you begin riding them in earnest. Pulling your body back up to grab behind you at their toned thighs. You let your head fall back, shamelessly whining as your cunt is stretched around the size of the cock again and again with each rock of your hips.

You can feel their gaze on you. Intense and predatory as their nails dig into your hips. They gently pull at you, urging you to ride them faster, just a little harder. Just to watch you struggle as your body twitches and your fingers grip tighter at their thighs.

They watch you with an intensity of a starving wolf. Seeing how your neck strains, how they can watch your pulse from here. Oh, how your body curves so beautifully- and they swear if they move their hand to your lower abdomen they can feel the thickness of the cock inside you-

It’s all too much. They cannot sit here and be a toy for you, or a pillow princess in a sense. They have to have you, claim you, it’s too intense of a feeling.

They push themselves up into a sitting position. Snatching your hips as you yelp in turn, almost falling but they pull you against their body. Their hands cup under your ass just as your arms go around their shoulders, choking out their name before they begin pistoning their hips up into you.

The bed creaks with their effort, hardly heard as you cry out and moan. Your hands fly up so one can grip at the back of their neck, the other clawing at their back as they use their muscles to thrust up into you. Their snarls are loud in your ear, followed only by the feeling of their teeth against your neck. Lips kissing away at bruises they leave behind with each growing hickey and bite.

When their hips grow tired, they use you like a doll and fuck you on their cock. You feel sloppy and far too wet, feeling it sticking to your inner thighs as you try to keep up with the motions. But, they won’t stop. Their hands just insistently push and pull until you’re rocking against the knot and sobbing into their neck, “Hound- Hound- fuck I can’t- it’s too much-”

Your voice is shaky with each hard, heaving breath you take. You’re absolutely throbbing on the edge by now, everything alight and far too hot. Yet, they don’t relent.

“You can take it,” They huff out, voice low and almost growling it out possessively. “You will take it.” They repeat, stressing out each syllable with a tug of your hips. Pressing up against you and pushing you down as the knot presses and stretches.

Your scream is muffled in their neck, your hands desperately clawing at their back as the knot presses into you. It’s all far too much, especially when their hand moves from your hip to instead rub at your clit. Using your own wetness to slide over your clit easily. You cum as they growl their native tongue into your ear, only managing to make quick translations in your head. Making out; ‘Mine’ ‘Love’ ‘Little whore’.  

There’s just a few moments where they let you rest like this. High on your orgasm even as their fingers tease at your hardened clit, making you give weak jerks and whines in response.

“Do you wish to be moved?” Bloodhound murmurs against your sweaty temple, pressing a warm kiss there even as you hum your negative in response. They laugh, gently shifting you in their lap. “You are heavy.”

“Tough.” You murmur back, nosing deeper into their neck to feel the vibrations of their chuckle.

Carefully, they move both your bodies as one. Shifting to lie on their side and keeping your leg thrown over their hip so they can stay locked inside. Their hand lovingly strokes down your side, petting you as you lazily roll your hips just to feel your inner walls squeeze.

“You are a greedy little thing, my love.” They tease at you, their hand coming under your ass to tease at the outer rims of your pussy, completely stretched out. “I am gone for five days, and you cannot manage yourself?”

Tiredly, all you can reply with is a negative hum. Lightly shaking your head with a yawn. “Nah, you do it better.”

Way better.

[uwua3]

first time he kissed a boy.

🍁🥇🍰 settsu banri x hyodo juza

summary: a collection of moments where juza and banri kiss and never speak of it again, until they do

warnings: alcohol, arguments, enemies/rivals, insomnia, internalized homophobia, kissing, mentions of death, nightmares, sexuality crisis

author’s note: firstly, there is no serious nsfw in this song fic! the most you’ll see, as seen in the title, is kissing !! :D i do not sexualize minors even if banri & juza are in university in this piece !!! this is angst with a happy ending :)

word count: 2,522

music: first time he kissed a boy – kadie elder, touch – troye sivan

TROUBLED FACE, HEADPHONES ON

FORGETTING TIME AND PLACE, ALL HE WANTED

“Scared, Hyodo?”

Banri’s touch was wicked—his hold on Juza’s collar was deadly tight, like a king snake’s grip on its victim. His tongue was sharp with words only a man unafraid of hell could speak, and as Banri leaned in closer, Juza questioned how much of this he could have.

“You don’t fucking scare me, Settsu.” Juza cursed, his back rigid against the wall and arms holding himself up in the closet. It was such a small, cramped space; one wrong move and this would be over. Banri laughed meanly, like always. Everything about Banri was so cold, like a double–edged sword that hurt even the wielder. Yet, here Juza was, firmly taking him by the hilt and accepting any injuries.

“Then, kiss me. You won’t—”

When Juza closed the distance and let himself close his eyes, he felt Banri’s breath hitch in his throat. It was such a small, unnoticeable sound, but pride burned at the pit of Juza’s ego knowing he caught the Settsu Banri off guard. Banri quickly adjusted, sitting on his lap and tightening his vile clutch onto his long time rival and sworn enemy.

It was supposed to be nothing more than a drunken dare, a challenge that would never be spoken about again after that awful round of boredly playing seven minutes in heaven with their college friends. But, with the intoxicating liquor upon their lips and the bass bumping in the background as the party went full swing, it felt like more than just two university students messing around in a frat house’s storage closet.

Banri’s devilish smirk tasted of years of unsaid confessions, hidden meanings, and secrets he’d take to the grave. It was something that made Juza realize this wasn’t the first time Banri kissed a boy, he was just the one of many.

When Banri pulled back seconds before the closet door swung open to the cheers of partygoers, Juza swallowed nervously as he felt himself stand up. He felt sober, because that was his first kiss with a boy. Juza’s first kiss was with Banri all because of a stupid dare—and, he liked it.

FEELING STUCK, SET HIM FREE

RUNNING OUT OF LUCK, ON HIS KNEES

It was 3 A.M. when Juza woke up to Banri. Banri, an insomniac who didn’t dare let himself be alone in the middle of the night, was asleep. It was one of the few times Banri was overcome and conquered by his own nightmare monsters, where he either succumbed to the draining force of tiredness or died trying. Tonight was when Banri passed out, unwillingly allowing the darkest crevices of his mind to run rampant and haunt him in the dark.

Banri was muttering something about freedom, a vain concept that others viewed him as the poster boy of, before thrashing in bed, his movements wild and unpredictable. Banri didn’t let himself sleep often because when he did, the worst parts of himself became fueled by nightmare energy. Juza sleepily blinked, pushing himself out of bed to softly walk over to Banri’s side.

A side of the room Juza never dared attempted to trespass until now.

Before Juza could place his hand on Banri’s cheek, Banri immediately yelled and shot up, his breathing uneven and heartbead pounding in his ears. Juza flinched back, not used to such a broken visage of Settsu Banri. Banri made sure that he always come off as an indifferent bastard that got what he wanted. But, now, he was vulnerably himself. The person Banri was most afraid of at night, was himself.

“H–Hyodo, you’re here...” Banri breathed out, attempting to mask the gratefulness and exhaustion weighing down his words. Juza didn’t react at first, simply settling his weight on the bed warily, waiting for any sign to stop. When Juza finally put his hand besides Banri’s, who was slightly shaking, Banri carefully took it, lacing their fingers together.

Banri’s hands were made of irresponsible and childish stories of his past, relentless and unsilenced anger at the rest of the world, and the pain and suffering of someone who burnt out with no purpose a long time ago. These were the calloused, scarred hands of someone dangerous—but, Juza didn’t care tonight.

When Banri turned his head and they were only inches away from each other, when Banri’s half–lidded eyes glanced down at Juza’s lips with no strings attached, when everything that made up Settsu Banri was uncertain, Juza knew he should’ve left. He should’ve never come over to Banri’s bed in the dead of night just to hold his enemy’s hand, just to step over unspoken boundaries from years ago. But, he didn’t move. He didn’t want to.

Banri moved in first this time, his palms sweaty and eyelids fluttering closed with a quiet sigh. When Banri pulled away to drop his forehead on Juza’s shoulder, whispering a quiet “thank you”, Juza didn’t say anything back. Juza slept in Banri’s bed that night, and Banri was gone by morning doing god knows what. Something they’d both regret, for sure.

Juza didn’t ask if Banri was okay from last night’s nightmare, and Banri didn’t bring up how for the first time, he slept for hours without fear.

FIRST TIME HE KISSED A BOY

HE HAD NEVER NEVER KNEW

COVER UP IS WHAT THEY TOLD

FEEL SO COLD

Juza didn’t know if he liked boys. Was it... normal? Why did every adult say boys had to like girls? It didn’t feel right—to see women in a romantic way, he’d never date one. He didn’t recently think this until that one frat party after literally coming out of the closet with his long time rival. Damn, Settsu, always fucking up his head in the most unpredictable ways.

Juza didn’t know why he was questioning if he liked boys. It more came down to whether he liked boys, or he just liked Banri. Settsu Banri, the bane of his existence, who was currently underneath him. Juza never thought he’d see the day Banri would come out on the losing side, but here he was, out of breath but cruel as ever.

Banri claimed Juza was the only person in the whole entire world that could even have a chance at beating his ass. He wasn’t necessarily wrong, but sometimes, it felt like an excuse so Juza could pin him to the ground in victory.

Ever since their second kiss, it suddenly became a casual thing for them to do. To tease each other mercilessly, to initiate intimacy on a wavering grey area, to pull each other close and never let it go. It was all from years of pent up tension that never left them even into college, now they could act on it without defining what their exact relationship was.

Fighting, was one of those previously normal activities that changed in an instant. Banri could’ve easily just swung his legs out to knock Juza over, but he chose not to. Instead, he grinned with his teeth sharp like some sort of tricky predator, letting his wrists be pinned above his head.

“I’ll never lose to you, Settsu.”

“Come on, you know you want to—” Before Banri could finish, he heard the practice room door swing open and Juza was a foot away. Banri sat up and numbly agreed when the Director asked if they were rehearsing a combat scene, to which Juza hurriedly ran with. It wasn’t until the Director left that Banri stood up, facing off with no casual intentions like before.

“What the hell was that, Hyodo?” Banri scoffed, but Juza saw right through it. Settsu Banri was hurt—insulted that he was just some secret Juza kept all to himself. It made Juza feel sick with confusion why he suddenly started giving a fuck about how Banri felt. But, Banri couldn’t know that. So Juza straightened his posture, using his half inch to his advantage and presenting himself angrily.

“Spit it out, Settsu. No one understands anything if all you do is swear.” Juza fought back tooth and nail, but Banri came in swinging, asking the inevitable question that’s been following Juza ever since that party closet challenge.

“Why do you always act like we’re just friends? Are you straight?”

Juza didn’t answer—instead, he looked down at the ground where Banri used to lay. Was it shame that stopped him from responding? Why did Juza feel like he should’nt be into boys? Juza knew there was inherently nothing wrong with guys, but why couldn’t he say it out loud? Banri laughed, but it was so cold that it sliced through Juza’s indecisiveness like a double–edged sword. It was his fault, anyways, he took the hilt early on.

“You—You, you fucking used me?” Banri started off with pure, untamed fury but it trailed off into a moment of weakness. Juza shook his head, eyes wide as he tried to come closer, only for Banri to stumble back immediately with a pointed glare that should’ve killed him on the spot.

“No, no. I didn’t, I swear to god I didn’t. I just don’t know, I’m not ready.” Juza blurted out and the practice room went quiet, with nothing but their labored breathing. Banri took the words in and refused to show any signs of pain, instead crossing his arms and rolling his eyes as if he didn’t care. But, he did, tremendously so.

“Figure it out, goddamn it. I’m not your experiment, Hyodo. I never will be.” Banri finally said and left, leaving whatever undefined relationship they had together. Juza let him go, letting the door slam shut and winced at the sound of someone kicking in a trashcan.

“I like you, Banri...” Juza whispered, his fingertips ghosting over the curve of his lips before forming a fist. Juza didn’t know how hard he punched the wall, but a hole the size of his heart was left in its place.

FIRST TIME HE KISSED A BOY

HE HAD NEVER NEVER LOVED

WALKS ON A CURVY ROAD

FEEL SO COLD

Juza now knew he liked boys in one way or another. Especially one boy named Settsu Banri, an ex (if Juza could call him that) who wouldn’t give him the time of day now. Any walls or defenses Juza managed to take down were rebuilt even stronger, and Banri was not his anymore.

He didn’t know how to tell Banri that he was into him, as way more than enemies and anything else they proclaimed themselves to be, until one motorcycle ride.

“Are you serious? Why do I have to go with him?” Banri complained, emphasizing who his partner for the night was. Juza, unluckily, knew how to ride a motorcycle and all the other seats in the available cars were empty. This meant Juza would have to sit with Banri for over a hour, after avoiding each other for weeks.

As much as Banri was stubborn, Sakyo was terrifying. Relenting, Banri swore underneath his breath and locked eyes with Juza, narrowing them to show he was indeed pissed off about this predicament. Banri’s vivid purple eyes were something that lingered at the back of his mind, and now they were staring him down like he was the worst person in the world. Juza just looked away, his thoughts heavy and all focused on one vengeful boy.

When everyone began preparing for their destination, Juza felt Banri’s arms wrap around his waist and his mind blanked. It had been so long since they last touched each other, that everything within Juza was shutting down. If Banri was made of empty lies, rich boy pretentiousness, and inherent privilege, Juza was made of hardhitting truths, quiet humbleness, and a life of many adversities. How could one boy so opposite of him make him feel so alive? Juza ignored his heart that stuttered at the touch of Banri, and revved the motorcycle engine instead.

Juza looked over his shoulder to check if Banri was wearing his helmet. He wasn’t, but Juza could live with that. Almost on impulse, Juza almost leaned in to sneak a quick kiss before the realization dawned on him: they weren’t each other’s anymore. Whatever that meant to them. So, Juza faced forward and drove off into the night, ready to get this ride to wherever Mankai needed him over with.

As the road curved and the motorcycle’s beams illuminated the street alongside the lamps, Juza exhaled sharply as he felt Banri’s head on his shoulder. It was just the second of what they could’ve had that made Juza park to the side. Banri stirred awake for a moment, the prominent eyebags telling of how little sleep he’s been getting ever since him and Juza called it quits. As Banri opened his mouth, Juza beat him to it.

“I like boys.”

KEEPING BACK THE GHOST INSIDE

LOCKED HIM IN A PACK, ALL HIS LIFE

“I don’t know what I am, but I do know I like boys. I like girls, boys, anyone. I don’t know my sexuality for sure, but I know... I like you.”

Banri took a while before leaning back, examining Juza’s face underneath the flickering street light. It was honest, truthful, and certain, like this was something he knew all along. Sighing, Banri crudely shrugged and revealed his classic Settsu smirk.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Banri ran his hand through his hair tiredly, willing himself to stay awake for this conversation as he hummed something. Juza gripped the handle bars tighter, the anxiety from confessing such a secret loud in his veins. Would anything change? Could they get back to being together? Were they ever together?

“We... You don’t have to tell anyone about this, Hyodo. I just needed to know this wasn’t some fling.” Or a mistake, Banri finished quietly, his words barely audible over the sound of cars driving past them. The tension in Juza’s shoulders bled out as he turned to face Banri with subtle relief. The pressure to come out suddenly became non–existent.

“So, we’re...?” Juza trailed off, unsure on how to define their relationship with one another. Just friends didn’t do what they did, but friends with benefits wasn’t exactly the case. Juza was sure repressed feelings wasn’t apart of any of those subcategories. Banri let his hands rest at the back of the motorcycle, holding himself up as he stared at Juza with a knowing smile.

“I’m all or nothing, you know that.” Banri laughed and Juza didn’t realize how much different it sounded compared to those seven minutes in the closet. Having a boyfriend, that sounded more than okay.

GET LOST, GET LOST, GET LOST

“Scared, Banri?” Juza was so scared but he was willing to take the risk just to be Banri’s.

“You don’t fucking scare me, Juza.” Banri was absolutely scared, that the boy he’s been obsessed with could just go in and break his heart anytime. But, Banri would let him if it meant he was Juza’s.

Juza didn’t remember how many times he’s kissed Banri at this point, but he did it again and again. Juza kissed Banri—and, he liked it.

[juminly]

Hide and Seek (Mitsuhide x Reader) Part 1

I’ve been wanting to write a piece featuring some hot sexy time with my favourite kitsune otome husband. Thank you anon for sending in the request for some Mitsuhide smut! Things kinda got a bit... out of hand so I’ll be posting this in parts <3 So stay tuned and hope you enjoy the read.  Warning: This part is only the prelude to all the smut. So I’m still marking this as NSFW xD.  Tagging: @yunohawkeye​ @kylor​ ------------- There was no point. No point at all to any of this… Taking up the challenge of the smartest and most cunning man of the Oda forces? You were definitely crazy. Absolutely, positively crazy for him. It all started with a simple game, yet, it was nothing but a very… very taunting scheme. “Say, (Y/N)” the softness of his lips tickled your ear, his deep voice swept softly into your mind, his low whisper lighter than a swift summer breeze, grappling onto your heart mercilessly. He was a cruel man but that only made you love him harder. “I’d like us to engage in a little game. You need not fret over the details. However, I assure you, it’ll certainly make our trysts even more stimulating.” More stimulating? Was that even possible?

With him, everything was possible. Nobody in the palace had discovered that you and Mitsuhide were lovers and you knew there was a reason for that. But that was the least of your concerns. His words and his voice held such deep promise that you knew would leave you breathless and wanton. Warmth crept up your cheeks as your mouth went completely dry, the thrums of your beating heart almost making your chest ache. Your lover had dared to deprive you of his warmth as he sat up from your bedding and cleared his throat, bringing your attention back to him and away from your wicked thoughts. “When have I ever done anything that wasn’t for your pleasure?” The corner of his thin lips tilted upwards, drawing an impishly tantalizing half-smile on his visage as his fingers laced through your own, bringing them to his lips so he could place a soft kiss on each bone of your knuckles. Something about the scene before you played on your heartstrings. The song it played was slow and heavy, from a smooth lento and a precise andante, building into a chaotic crescendo that had not occurred...yet. There was so much more to come, the foretold eruption of the music within you was still simmering. You couldn’t decipher what the feeling… or the feelings that roused within you. The tingling sensation that vibrated through your body was but a prelude initiated by the simple touch of his lips that would earn him your accord to his challenge, whether you wanted to or not. “Your pleasure is my own, even if you may find my methods disagreeable at times...” His shoulder shook lightly, a deep chuckle resounding in his chest when he noticed the slight arch in your brow. You couldn’t help but marvel at the beautiful sound, reflecting in his expression. This side that he didn’t show to anyone but you. It would take absolutely everything in your power and will to resist this man’s charms and you wouldn’t even bother.“I’m a man of my word and I’ll reward you appropriately, little mouse.” Again, with that infuriating mouse analogy. Before you could even respond with a quip of your own, Mitsuhide’s slender fingers slipped away from your own and he pushed himself gracefully off your futon before he towered over your lying form in all his blissful glory. Teeth sinking into your swollen lips, a welcomed memento of what had transpired between you on that fateful evening, your eyes could never defy the power that his gaze held on you, keeping them locked in place until he willed otherwise. His demeanor, sly by nature, was even more so as he nonchalantly slipped his arms into his kimono, covering the skin and you ached to touch, the teasing smile on his lips not leaving his face. Unable to hold the silence, you almost growled in frustration. “Mitsuhide. What is this little game that you’re dragging me into? It’s not like you haven’t been using me as a plaything since the day we’ve met. I’ve always kept you entertained. At least, that’s what you always say.” An exasperated sigh escaped your lips as your eyes glazed over his lithe yet muscular form, your mind wandering to far and shameless horizons. As if he read your mind, his tongue lazily swept over his lower lip, golden eyes almost glowing from his sudden radiating heat. “Catch me if you can, little mouse… And good things are bound to happen.” Your eyes widened and followed him as he slipped out of your room, leaving you all alone with your burning heart. Deep inside, you knew that Mitsuhide would never get caught unless he wanted to be found. That wouldn’t stop you from trying. --- And… it’s already been two weeks since then. You attempted to devise a plan, searching for him as methodically as you could, aware that it would almost be impossible to outwit the kitsune of the Oda forces. Nonetheless, you were not one to turn down a challenge and definitely not miss out on the excitement and thrill of a hunt. Your love for him chasing through your veins, driving you senselessly and purposely toward any hint or trace of him. Hope bloomed in you as the remnants of spiced sandalwood, a fragrance that was characteristically his, only to wilt to dust when you found a blue bellflower laid carefully on the veranda near the Oda force’s council room. A blue bellflower…Your hand unconsciously reached out to touch the hairpin adorning your bundled tresses. You never cared to ask if it had any meaning but now, curiosity gnawed your mind. It was peculiar and definitely not a coincidence that you had seen bellflowers in so many places yet, the realization just came crashing down on you. The day you were stuck trying to decipher war strategy from Mitsunari’s thorough explanation of tactics that Mitsuhide had previously endeavoured in the past. You could still taste the bitterness of that sweet clueless angel on the tip of your tongue and shuddered while you giggled softly. That one time you happened to pass by Hideyoshi’s castle, hearing his usual effervescent chastisement. It couldn’t be directed to any other person but him. You were absolutely sure as your feet fell assuredly on the ground as you flew through the halls of Nobunaga’s right man’s palace, only to find him leering over a parchment with exquisite handwriting on it, signed with a delicate drawn sketch of a bellflower. Your hunt had turned out to be more intriguing than you thought. Mitsuhide had devised plot after plot: kidnapped Uri for the sake of a mission that only she could do and had created a crown of bellflowers for Wasabi that the shy deer wore with such childish joy, earning Ieyasu’s wrath and jealousy. The more time passed, the more you realized that Mitsuhide was truly enjoying this game. As he left you small tokens of his presence, he was finally doing something for himself. Little pieces that he shared for his sake. Not for his Lord, not for his country. It was ironic and almost… almost funny and completely ridiculous how Mitsuhide was capable of disappearing from the face of the Earth, if he wanted to. That’s how expertly skilled he was, and didn’t that just excited you even more. The only bit of hope you could hold on to was his scent, which was unmistakable and rather intoxicating. Not that you would admit it to anyone, unless they coaxed it out of you. They being Mitsuhide, of course. If only you were immune to his wiles… Desperate times called for desperate measures and the time had finally come to put an end to this wicked game of his. As much as you loved seeing his humorous charades follow through, enough was enough. Your patience was running thin and you missed him terribly. You even started to wonder if he would hide in the ceiling of the Palace in a very Sasuke-like ninja way. You wanted your daydreams to finally become a reality and catch the fox by its tail and let him bestow his malicious benevolence on you. That was how you found yourself hidden in his closet, waiting for him to come back from his meeting with Nobunaga. He had spent hours in his Lord’s tenshu, the anticipation of laying your hands on him was too much to bear. Time and time again, he breezed past you, a ghost of a sly smile on his face and the murmur of his sweet nothings falling on your eager ears while he reminded you that the hunter was supposed to catch the prey, and not the other way around. As long as he found you first, that counted as your loss. During this entire time, he never thought of claiming a win by passing by your bedroom, like on your usual nightly escapades. Breathing out ruefully, you continued to wait in the confined space that you creeped into. Luckily for you, Kyubei and his retainers were as secretive as he was and would let this one pass. You promised them all a special feast from the one and only masterchef Lord Masamune if they kept her presence a secret from their Lord. The brusque slide of the door knocked the wind out of you, clasping your mouth frantically before the sound of your rapid breathing could be heard from your love. In poised strides, he lit two candles and burned a stick of his sandalwood incense before seating himself on his desk. His movements seemed almost systematic as he opened one letter after another, attending to his business and oblivious to your presence. Now was your chance. The door was gingerly pushed open, only the rustle of paper filling the room. Thump. Thump. Thump. Your heart beat so deafeningly in your ears, you were afraid he could hear it. “You found me.” a full-bodied melody strum from his throat. You blinked your ears. Once. Twice. He knew you were there. He knew you would be there. He planned for this to happen. Everything went according to his plan. You lunged forward and kneeled behind him, your hand twisting in tresses of brightened mercury, strenuously pulling his head back and crashing your lips on his, nipping and sucking on him almost violently. An inaudible grunt escaped him, joined by a pleasant sigh as he willingly allowed you to subdue him with your fervent assault, welcoming it with his innate and haughty slyness. You could feel the mirthful twist of his lips pressed against yours. It made you want to scream, your body shaking from the release of all the anticipation that you had of finally being near him. Your hesitant fingers clenched his soft hair to reluctantly pull him away from your grasp, the air in Mitsuhide’s room sucked out from the heavy gasps emanating from both of you. “Why do you look at me so, love?” Did he just call you… love? You could already feel your resolve shattering and dissipating into nothingness as he so easily roused your deepest desires. “Your face is twisted in an expression that doesn’t suit you, adorable little creature that you are.” Reaching for your face, he smoothed the furrowed skin between your brows, mimicking the caress of a master to his clingy kitten, beseeching his attention and affection. The flush adorning your cheeks became darker, your sensations heightened as you locked your seething gaze on the peaceful expression of your prey. “What is the purpose of all of this, Mitsuhide?!” you pleaded gravely. “You knew that I was here all along yet you came here… walking in here, fully aware that the moment you walked in, you would lose. I know you. You’re not one to forfeit any victory and miss the chance to bask in triumph.” Your slender shoulders shook and chest heaved with your sharp inhales filling the silence in the room, your frustration and anticipation becoming one, rendering you incapable of any other thoughts but him. You were a sore winner but you didn’t even care. Opportunistic plots and schemes defined this man’s motives yet his eyes of weathered gold laid upon you, emanating an unholy tenderness that made your hand shake and loosen from his silver tendrils, allowing him to sit back up. “You enjoyed it as much as I did. The hunt. The chase. The blood rushing through your veins as I surrounded you. Tauntingly so, if I may add.” you could hear him lick his lips matter-of-factly before he continued. “Your welcome was more than stimulating, my little mouse. It appears that our little game has been fruitful. I believe it’s time I reap what I’ve sown.” -----  I hope you’ve enjoyed it so far! To be continued here.  If you enjoy my work,  Please feel free to like/reblog and leave comments/feedback!  💜  Masterlist

[readbeneaththelines]

Just The Person I Need Pt. 4

cr to gif owner

JiYong let his lungs empty slowly, a long drawn out breath. His palms were moist with sweat and he could feel small droplets trickle down his back. While he was in the store, he felt an unnerving sensation that he was being watched. He looked slowly around, finally looking outside the shop, to find you staring at him. He could tell you weren’t trying to get his attention but, in fact, was outright staring at him. You didn’t move as he waved, then decided to rap at the window. The look of fear mixed with embarrassment brought a smile to his face. Settling on going outside to talk, you once again collided bodies. He had felt the rush of electricity course through him when your bodies touched, but leaving him a tad to quick for his liking. When eyes finally met, he was enraptured, Y/E/C eyes were wide and filled with, what was it? Desire, lust, need, fear? He couldn’t tell, but it held his attention far longer than it should. He could feel his body tensing, heat filling his entire being. He had to leave before he said or did something out of character for him. 

He stopped short of rounding the corner, looking back in your direction to make sure you were still safe. He noticed a dazed stagger, wondering if you were going to be okay on your own. Shaking his head rapidly, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could not let a woman affect him like that. He had so many other things to focus on, a woman would only cause more distraction than good. His resolve freshly renewed, he walked to his car and climbed in the driver’s seat. Maybe he would go home the long route, just to make sure you were still walking safely in the direction you had headed. Starting the engine, it’s purr reminded him of other sounds, naughty sounds, that escaped womens’ lips. Running his hands down his face, he grabbed the steering wheel and set off. When he rounded the curve, there you were, standing at the light waiting to cross. /you still had that same dazed look in your eyes, a blushed hue still rosy on your cheeks. He knew he had to get home, so reluctantly he passed through the light, his head turning slightly as he passed to take your visage in one last time.

Loud music and even louder voices echoed off the walls of the bar. Tables were full of men and women either trying to hook-up, relax after a long day, or forget about everything. You just needed to forget about the man you kept literally running into. Siding up to the bar, you order a bottle of Soju. You turn to watch the people, trying to read their body language. The table to the left has some young students sitting around the small space. One guy is eyeing the young girl to his left, desire and want evident in his burning eyes. The young girl, though, doesn’t seem to know he even exists, as she chatters away with another young lady beside her. 

Poor guy, you aren’t getting any tonight. Might as well give up now while you still have your dignity. 

You snicker at the thought that crosses your mind. Grabbing the bottle and Soju glass, you head to an empty table at the back of the bar, safe and secluded. Settling in the booth, your thoughts runaway as you picture the well-groomed Mr. Kwon. Closing your eyes as you lean your head against the back of the seat, images of his eyes flash behind closed lids. There was something hidden in his, but what it was, you couldn’t tell. Running still shaky hands through your hair, your resigned to forget about him, and taking the bottle, poured your first of several drinks for the night. 

Once you had chatted with colleagues in the cramped space,  you decided to head out for the night. You didn’t want to go back to the Kim’s since you were a little over the tipsy limit. Instead, you opted for a quaint hostel nearby. You stretched out across the bed, the only light was that of the street lights outside the window. Pulling a pillow under your head and drawing the thick blanket over yourself, you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep. The last thing you remembered were brown and honey speckled eyes staring at you, half-lidded and full of mystery.

You awoke to the sound of the alarm chiming from your phone next to the bed. Sitting up and stretching, you felt her mild hangover. You reached in your satchel and grabbed something for pain and the outfit you carried for the ‘just in case’ scenarios. Walking down the hallway to the hostel’s shared bathroom, you were thankful everyone was either still asleep or already gone for the morning. Turning the shower to the highest temperature setting, you stepped in and allowed the hot water to wash over you. There were no dreams last night, of any kind. Thankfully, you muttered to yourself. After staying in there well past the water cooling down, you reluctantly stepped out and grabbed a towel. Drying off and dressing, you wrapped your hair in the towel and padded back to the room. She had a missed call from Ha-eun, who had instead left a text. You were going to meet up at the same coffee shop as last night for a quick bite before heading out to visit probably every shop within a fifty mile radius. You hurriedly brushed still damp hair then applied some gloss to your lips and headed out the door. The morning was cool and refreshing, taking the still warm feel of your skin down a few degrees.

Ha-eun plopped down, her bright smile still radiant and exuding happy blissfulness. You couldn’t help but laugh at her, reveling in the joy that was flowing around her. After a quick cup of coffee and a bagel, the two of you headed off, ready to spend the day together.

JiYong pulled up in front of his home, leaving the Audi R8, parked beside the fountain. Grabbing the bags from the truck, he carefully unlocked the door and tiptoed inside. His butler, Sang-hoon, was coming down the stairway.

“Good evening Mr. Kwon. I hope you’ve had a pleasant day.” Sang-hoon spoke as he bowed and extended his arm for JiYong’s jacket.

“Good evening Sang-hoon. Yes, I had a pretty pleasant day if I do say so myself. Why don’t you retire for the night, I’m just going to head to my office and catch up on some work. I will be a while, so there is no need for you to stay up.” He watched as Sang-hoon straightened and smiled. His butler bowed again, then stood and turned around, heading to the servant quarters. JiYong waited until he was out of sight and heard the bedroom door open and close before heading to his office. Seated in the cool leather chair, he laced his finger together and rested his forehead against them. He could not get you out of his brain. Your hair hair falling across one shoulder, the pink tint to your cheeks, the soft looking lips slightly parted as you were staring at him. The way you swayed when you walked, a little bounce in your step. It had been a long time since he had a woman in his bed, let alone in his life. He didn’t have time before the kids came, and now he especially didn’t have time for dating. But something about you moved him deep within. Maybe it was the way you smiled, or the way you looked with a child on your hip. Was it the motherly aspect he recognized or was it that you looked like you would give him beautiful children.

 Yah, Ji, get these ideas out of your head. She is a nanny for heaven’s sake, for one of your friends. You need to stop this now, man, and fast.

Sighing heavily, he straightened himself in the chair and pulled a towering stack of papers to set in front of him. It was going to be a long night, and the kids will be up early more than likely. He had to find some help, and quick, before he burned his candle completely out. Without even a second passing, he remembered the Kims. He needed a nanny.

Of course, you idiot. Why think of that just now? You know why. Because of her.

He made a mental note to call Mr. Kim in the morning to discuss his options. Three hours later, he was crawling into bed. His last thoughts were of Y/E/C eyes looking up at him through lashes.

The next morning, he was awakened by the soft sounds of little feet running across his bedroom floor and stifled giggles. Keeping his eyes closed, he prepared for the oncoming attack. Two little bodies leapt onto the massive bed, piling on top of him and trying to tickle him. Swiftly he wrapped his arms around both of them.

“Gotcha! Now what are you going to do?” his voice was still scratchy from sleep, making him sound a little more menacing than anticipated.

Peals of laughter reverberated around the room. He took several minutes to finally get them calmed down enough, pulling his down blanket over them and placing his pillows behind them, he flicked the seventy-two inch TV on. Cartoons blared as he showered and got dressed in the walk-in closet. Freshly shaven and dressed for the day, he came to sit on the edge of the bed.

“What do you two want to do today? I have to go to work for a little while, but Halmeoni is coming to spend some time with you. What you would like to do with her today?” 

“Can we go to the park or zoo?” Mi-sun asked in her little soft voice.

“I want to go to for ice cream or maybe the arcade.” Se-jun spoke up, excitement shining in his eyes.

“Okay, I will call her on my way to work and let her know. Until she gets here, you can both watch TV and if you get hungry, Ms. Soo-Mi will get your breakfast. Now please be good for everyone while I am away. Promise.” He snapped to get get their full attention. Both little heads emphatically nodded yes. They each gave him a hug before he walked out. This was his life now, and he can’t really remember what it was like just two short, but yet somehow very long, months ago.

When he arrived at his office, he was already worn out. The lack of good sleep was starting to catch up to him. Pulling the Audi into his reserved spot, he gathered his briefcase and suit jacket from the trunk.  Pressing the first floor button, Ms. Lee was sitting at the reception desk, reddish brown hair pulled into a sophisticated tight bun. She rose and bowed as he neared.

“Good morning, Mr. Kwon. How are you today?” her tone was light yet perky.

“Doing fairly good this morning, and how are you?” he sounded short, but wasn’t meaning to.

“Doing well, thank you. You have a visitor awaiting you in the upstairs lobby. He arrived approximately ten minutes ago, said he would be happy to wait for you”. She reached down to her desk, presenting him with the morning paper as he walked by. With a quick ‘thank you’,  JiYong proceeded to the vast staircase at the rear of the building. He stopped short of opening his office double doors. Taking in a deep breath, he straightened his jacket and buttoned it closed. Clearing his throat, he opened the doors, coming face to face with his visitor, Mr. Mueller.

Mr. Mueller was the owner of a business conglomerate in Germany. He had been in talks with JiYong on several occasions, trying to form a merger of both their companies. He had refused every time, informing Mr. Mueller that he wanted to keep his company local. He grew up here and always considered his company as part of his home city. KwonHyung Inc. provided jobs for many of the citizens and hosted several fundraisers each year to provide assistance to the elderly, local hospitals, and children's organizations. He had explained to Mr. Mueller that keeping the company seeded in South Korea was necessary for not only the country as a whole, but specifically his hometown. Seeing that Mr. Mueller was a persistent man, JiYong was always prepared for his visits.

“Good morning, Mr. Mueller, what brings you to South Korea?” his tone verged on annoyance with hints of sarcasm and loathing.

“Ah, good morning Mr. Kwon! I have come to pay many a visit this time. Wanted to stop by and say hello to you.” His German accent was thick, almost making it hard for JiYong to understand him.

“Well then, I am flattered that you thought of me. Is there anything I can get for you? Coffee, water, or some hot tea?” the polite gesture was mainly for formalities, as JiYong hoped he wouldn’t take him up on the offer.

“Ah, not this time, Mr. Kwon. I was wondering though, if you had given anymore consideration to my last offer? I am hoping that you have.” Mr. Mueller was standing a bit straighter, matching JiYong in height, and standing in very close proximity to him. 

“Again, I must tell you that I do not plan on merging our companies. Not now, nor in the future. I appreciate that you think my company is a worthy ally, but I still refuse your offer. Thank you for stopping by, it was nice seeing you again. I am fairly busy and I must get to work, allow me to see you out”. 

Mr. Mueller stood firm in his spot, irritating Ji-hoon beyond measure. Both men stood their ground, neither taking the first step in breaking away. The tension in the room was escalating, Ji-hoon sensing his heart rate speeding up and his breathing become less steady. Mr. Mueller lowered his lids into a piercing stare, daring him to make a move.

“Mr. Kwon, I am a very powerful man with many companies under my thumb. When I want something, I go after it until I obtain it. I will have this merger, sooner or later.”  the authoritative tone was meant to scare JiYong. The thing was, he did not scare easily and when confronted, he could be just as alarming as Mr. Mueller.

“What I don’t think you understand, here, is the fact that I too am a very powerful man. I have nearly all of South Korea’s businesses under my own thumb. You will never have this merger, not now and not ever. If you attempt to visit my wonderful country again, I have ways of making sure you never step foot on this soil again. That, Mr. Mueller, is just how powerful I am. Now please, see yourself out cordially, or I can have you escorted directly to the airport and onto the next flight out.” 

JiYong stood firm, refusing to let his guard down. Mr. Mueller turned on his heel and slowly walked towards the doors. Reaching for the handle, but not opening them, he turned back around.

“Mr. Kwon, I assure you that one day you will mess up and you will need rescuing, at that moment it will be me that takes the reins from your hands. I will gladly see myself out”. With those words he was out the door, the weight of them bringing them to a close with a resounding thud.

@beautifulseoulliar @agustd-suga-yoongii @astronomyturtle @aspaceformyself @dreamyoongi i @trashkazuya @maxinaptak @micky1518 @rosiemilas @karri570

@seoulsunshineandstories @kwonnansi @xjamlessparkx @berryjam17

@kingsuckjin

[artificialqueens]

A Clownfish & A Mermaid (5/?): Snatched! (Biadore) - doctor bitchcraftt

Anonymous request from AQ: “I love your fic of Bianca playing Adore for snatch game on bots, could you write one where Adore surprises Bianca by coming out as her? Maybe Bianca is being the host and doesn’t know till Adore appears.”

A/N: Keeping it non-AU by having it take place before Adore left for AS2, because as far as I remember she did have Bianca as her backup character for Snatch Game. And oh how I wish we’d been able to see that…  A little bittersweet, because we know Adore didn’t stay for Snatch Game.

Regarding Bianca’s waist measurement: her dress form is a 12, which has a 29-30 inch waist; additionally, it’s quoted as 28 in an article from years ago and she looks to be about the same size now.  Xoxoxoxo, bitchcraftt

********

“Show me what else you’ve got?”

Bianca lounged on the couch surrounded by piles of drag and half-packed suitcases.  Still in drag after hosting a show, she’d ignored the stare from the Uber driver (typical) and his awkward attempts at flirting (not typical), and blown through the door at full force to find Adore already spreading her chaos across every available surface.

NDA or not, Danny’s excited call a couple of days ago about accepting All Stars 2 made it clear that the planning had to include Bianca.  Roy kept his mouth shut at the objections he desperately wanted to voice - fallout from Danny' losing his dad, amongst other things - and promised his support in any way possible.

They’d spent the better part of the last two hours going through Adore’s drag, matching items to the list as best as they could and trying to guess what the challenges might entail.  Vintage shopping yesterday netted a gorgeous purple sequined shift that would go wonderfully with her crimped lavender wig, and they’d agreed on a half dozen other looks already before test driving for Snatch Game.  Adore’s Snatch Game needed to be strong, even stronger than her season six Anna Nicole Smith if possible.  Without Bianca and DeLa giving her a run for her money, she should be a standout.  Her first choice seemed decent, but having a backup option was always a good idea.

Danny had briefly complained about having to go into full drag and face for each look, but there was no way to get a complete opinion otherwise.  Because of that, she’d insisted that Bianca not watch her prep so that she would be able to give advice on the final product.  

Bianca was prepared to loan her anything she needed, and tried to guess what the character would be based on Adore banging around her closet and cursing.  After twenty minutes, Adore’s voice drifted around the corner.

“Close your eyes!”

“Really?"  Bianca rolled them instead.

"I want it to be a surprise!”  

She’d teased that it was another queen, and Bianca tried to picture her dressed as Alyssa or Laganja in things garnered from her own extensive wardrobe.  Although, Adore did have a wicked DeLa voice…

“Fine, they’re closed.”

The sound of heels clicking nervously on the hardwood heralded Adore’s arrival, tapping to a stop on the carpet in front of the couch.

“ ‘Kay, you can open them.”

Bianca blinked a few times, shook her head in disbelief, and tried to find her voice.

“You like it?"  

Adore had borrowed a pair of Bianca’s platform pumps covered in jet black rhinestones, and her nude fishnets showed where she held the weighted hem up.  Above that, she was corseted tighter than ever before over actual padding, clad in a fitted black velvet cowl-neck sleeveless gown with oversized sequin flowers pinned at the shoulder and hair piled up to ridiculous heights.  Was that five wigs? An assortment of sparkly bangles and large bracelets worked their way up from her wrists to almost the elbows on both arms.  To top it off, Adore had picked Bianca’s most obnoxious chandelier earrings to accompany the exaggerated eyes and what had to be eight pairs of lashes.

She clutched a throw pillow in front of herself, cocked a hip, and grinned before schooling her face into a disapproving frown.  

"NOT TODAY SATAN!"

Bianca opened and closed her mouth a few times, before starting at the floor and making her way up with a critical eye. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the clink of bangles as Adore fidgeted.  

"Well fuck me,” Bianca managed at last.

”…was that a good fuck me?”

As she watched nervously, Bianca’s blank expression transformed into a howl of laughter, raspy cackle filling the room.  Unable to speak through it, she flailed wildly.  Adore’s smile drooped a bit on the edges, face gone anxious.  Her posture melted into a slouch, vaguely ridiculous given the silhouette of her outfit.

”…okay, I get it.  I look fucking stupid, and I’ll -“

Bianca pushed off the couch, catching her hand before she could do more than turn.  

“N- no!  Don’t!  It’s…fucking…hee hehehe hee hee- oh my fuck it’s perfect!”

“Yeah?”

“Lemme hear what you’ve got planned."  This should be something else.

Adore scowled, dropping her voice and rolling her eyes.  "I ain’t got time for this.  Beat it queen!  Need help packin’ ?”

”Fuck you bitch, I do not sound like that!  You sound like you’re gargling gravel in there.”  After a night of yelling at a crowd her own voice was scratchy and rough, and Bianca couldn’t hold a straight face.  “All right fine, maybe I do.”

She pulled her into the drag room to stand side by side in the mirror, ignoring how the usually neat racks of dresses looked like a tornado touched down.  Without her own heels on she was the better part of a foot shorter than Adore, but together they looked like Bianca standing next to some of the more accurate fan art.  Seeing her own signature evening gown on Adore’s body set her off again.

”Adore Del Rio,” she giggled, dabbing at her eyes, “this might be the best fucking thing I’ve ever seen.  Including Anna Nicole.”

“Really?“  

"Not when you stand with your mouth open like that,” Bianca teased, nearly losing it again when Adore stuck her tongue out.  

“Put your hand on your hip.  No, like this,” Bianca repositioned Adore’s arm and tugged her knee until her right leg crossed in front of the left, bent slightly.  “Emphasizes the hips, it looks more feminine like that.”

“We won’t be doing runway like this, I’ll fucking trip over the hem.  I hope?"  

“You wanna be prepared.  And you’re taller so it won’t hit the floor…Visage is going to love that."    

The sequined flower was perfect and she didn’t need a necklace, but… “Here.”  She pulled the bracelets off and dug back into the jewelry drawers, discarding some and adding others to the pile.  She slipped them back onto Adore’s wrist sorted by color, switching the smaller beads for chunkier ones.  “Exaggerated but still detail oriented.”  

A second pair of less garish earrings followed, Bianca’s signature hoops with colored beads.  “In case you wanna use them for something else.  Now sit.”  She nudged her down in front of the vanity, picking up eyeshadow.  "Gotta get you beyond clown."

Frowning in concentration, she gripped Adore’s chin gently to hold her steady and reached for a lipliner.  "Your lips are full enough, don’t overdraw, just make the Cupid’s bow curved right here."  Adore had done a good job reproducing her eyes, although the liner was a bit more winged than Bianca would wear it.   Punk rock style or not, Danny was a talented makeup artist and the Bianca face only needed a little bit of adjustment.  “Raccoon territory next.  You need to avoid too much color on the lids.”  With a few deft strokes, she painted even darker eyes and added more white to the bottom lids before making the beauty mark bigger.

Once satisfied that the face was right, Bianca collected a few items - two shades of gloss, new packages of lashes - and zipped them into a cosmetic bag with the earrings for Adore to pack.  "Stack them fresh, you don’t want to wear someone else’s lashes, who knows-”

“Yes mom."  Her tone of voice implied that this was yet another lecture.  "I know, but they’re yours so…"  She wilted a little under Bianca’s unimpressed stare.  "Okay fine, but it’s not like I’m gonna get eye herpes from them.”

Moving up from the face, Bianca studied the auburn curls tenuously balanced on her head.  Frowning, she pulled it apart to set three of the five wigs aside, teased and re-pinned, then nodded decisively.

“Forget you trying to do this in the workroom.  Let me style you a full wig so it’s ready to go.”

Adore nodded and stood, leaning on the table for support.  Bianca narrowed her eyes when she noticed that she seemed to be slightly out of breath.

”Can you breathe in that?”

”Yeah?”

“That shouldn’t be a question.  You need to be able to sit for an hour, you remember what it was like.  Show me how you’re cinched.”  When Adore seemed reluctant, Bianca bent to hike up the skirt of the gown, waiting until Adore took the fabric from her before peeling the dress up her midsection (thank goodness for stretch velvet) to reveal the corset.  

"Adore.” The gently chiding tone was worse than annoyance.  “You’re not Chachki for fuck’s sake.  We can get rid of some of that padding and loosen it up."  While she spoke, Bianca turned Adore around to untie the laces before unzipping the front to reveal angry red welts where the boning strained around her waist.  Sighing, she pulled the tights down enough to work the pads out from underneath.  

"But…” Adore protested, “your waist is so small!”

“It’s about proportion.  You’ve got enough to cinch in without the pads. Just make your tits a little bigger, squeezing down to this isn’t going to even show when you’re sitting behind a table."  Bianca searched on the side table for a tape measure, wrapping it around her own waist.  "I’m 29 corsetted, 30 with the gown.  I only take two inches off.”

“I wanna get it right."

The muttered comment seemed more weighted than just a corset disagreement and Bianca paused with her hands on Adore’s hips.  "Pussyface?

"It’s…” Adore met her eyes, more serious than she’d been the entire night.  “I don’t want to disappoint you.  What if I fuck this up?"

"Hey."  Even with the heels, Bianca still needed to tip Adore’s chin up to make eye contact.  "You’re gonna be amazing, you hear me?  They’re lucky to have you, and it doesn’t matter what happens on some reality tv show filmed in RuPaul’s basement.  You could go home the first week and I’d still be proud of you for going back in to that fucking shark pit.”

Adore was silent while Bianca zipped her back up and smoothed the dress back down.  Bianca turned her to face the mirror again, and was relieved to see the small smile.  

“Really, pussyface,” she felt the need to repeat, “I’m so proud of you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

[thesarcasticside]

Anything-$00000DE9

NAME Darius ID 26 42 16 97 ALIENRACE Hybrid, human, other OCCUPATION biologist

Chapter Warnings cybernetics, missing/dismembered limbs (not described in detail/mentioned), body horror, medical treatment that isn't forced, gun, talk of murder, Chapter Characters Remus, Janus

AO3 Chapter 1 Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Dee’s arm was buckled into the passenger seat. When he looked at it, the mental connection he had with it caused it to twitch and spark. He stared at it. Static rumbled in his ears, piercing a high frequency sound. If he tilted his head all the way to the side, the static could sink through his skull like a sieve.

He took his good arm, his real one, and plastered it onto the stirring wheel of the ship. He could not come back like this. If they—If they—There would be little left to savage.

His entire body was screeching in pain, and yet he did not make a single sound as he started the engines. With the single hand on the wheel, he looked like he was on a relaxing joy ride in the middle of a Sunday afternoon. Expressionless, he stared off into the screen beyond, eyes catching on the grains of fire in the sky. The pressure of the acceleration on his wounds made his stomach drop, nausea overwhelming the pain and acid splashing into his guts.

Half awake, the ship did most of the work. It knew where Dee wanted to go.

Hopefully Dei’dra would not know. Dee did not have the time to cloak and hide his tracks. She probably would. Dee did not have the energy to care.

He barreled into the atmosphere of the planet. The fire encrusting the capsule matched the fire in his lungs. His body was flung forward and back, pulses, like racing over speedbumps, as the ship fell into a pile of garbage.

With little dignity, Dee pried the door open and stumbled into the pile of trash—He kicked his way through, drunkenly finding his way through the yard—It took longer than expected for Remus to find him, as he unceremoniously parked in the back of the lot—

“—Oh fuck, my arm.” Dee spoke aloud as he realized he forgot to grab it. He swerved his body back towards the garbage, but Remus, hovering over him, stopped him in his tracks.

In an uncharacteristically low hush, Remus held him by the shoulder and spoke so close to his face he might as well been whispering in his ear. “I’ll get one of my bots to grab it.” Remus hooked his arm around Dee’s waist, almost hoisting him up to his squishy side, leading the way to the medical bay.

His voice returning into its typical jovial tune, Remus continued, “b’sides, butts are where it’s at.”

Only catching bits and pieces at this point, Dee muttered something about “butts” and “implants”, and “they ain’t touching my ass”, lowly and incomprehensibly.

Remus chuckled, and ushered Dee through the maze of junk, stumbling multiple times.

A robot the size of a medium-sized dog trotted into the garbage pile, digging its way into the passenger seat. Its butt in the air swished back and forth excitedly as it reached for the arm. Its head only consisted of a claw or grabber. As it emerged from the pile, Remus looked back and laughed at the sight of a dismembered arm flailing about in its maws.

Dee grumbled, unamused by whatever Remus was laughing about, and continued forward, each step like bare feet on burning asphalt.

Remus kicked open the door to the medical bay, practically carrying Dee in his arms; the cyborg was slowly sinking away into the sand, dragged to the white painted room.

Dee’s head was nodding off but refused to subside to unconsciousness. His skull hammered down and then rose, back and forth, struggling. Remus took a moment to check his eyes, the artificial one was sharp, out of focus like a camera, while the other was red and watering, twitching, holding onto focus like a lifeline.

Remus might have thought about what the heck this man had been doing. What he had been put through. What experiments were performed on him, like some carnival of oddities. What could have gotten him into this situation, falling apart in his arms like a broken statue, worn after years of sandstorms.

He might have, but he did not have time. Yet it still clicked in his mind, something that simply pinpointed it all, that sorted through the anything, and found exactly who he was holding in his arms at this moment.

And seeing him here, in his arms, he could not help but feel overwhelmed, as if he himself shared Dee’s pain. He could hear at this moment every piece of equipment in his junkyard, the low buzzes and hums banging onto the side of his head like drums.

Remus placed Dee onto the operating table—softly, gently, like a tea set. The clink and quiet thump pounded into the air, reverberating into the stale room. Dee looked up at him, mouth shaped into a grimace, but his eyes were light as air, glimmering like sunlight on the clouds, looking at both nothing and everything and Remus.

It was as if in that moment his visage gave up everything; far too used to having no agency in Lab C and ready for everything to happen; so, he might survive. Remus sucked in a gulp of air and turned away to ready his equipment and himself—

—Dee felt the sun on his face as he woke up.

Remus reached out towards the half-awake cyborg. His palm hovered over his cheek, and he watched Dee carefully, searching for something Dee did not know he could give.

Something in his body pushed Dee to lean into the palm, the soft silky skin gently cooling his face.

Remus chuckled. “Sleep good?”

Dee blinked again. The room was so bright, light emitting from every wall and counter and table. All he could see was Remus, like he was in a dream.

“I guess.” Dee said even though he had never quite experienced a sleep like that before. Something that happened in an instant, but also in a forever. A restful break from reality.

Remus rubbed a thumb over his cheek: Dee vaguely wondered what Remus was holding on to his face like this for, what he was looking for, what he was inspecting.

Dee blinked slowly; his breath cast away from him. Remus smiled, his dark eyes round and jovial. Pounding in his chest, in his ears, in his throat, Dee’s heart picked itself up from shattered sand.

“You know,” Remus began in a melodic tune. He leaned in closer "I think you're my favorite piece of trash that’s ever landed in this junkyard," a casual humor in his voice dragged into the air.

But—oh—there was Something—Something in Remus’s eyes that looked relieved that Dee was alive.

Dee scoffed. “I’m trash? Do you own a mirror?”

Dee sat himself up on the bed. He glanced around, looking at the blankets around his legs. Dee tried to remember the last time he slept in a bed.

A quilt. A knitted blanket. Very loud and mismatched colors and strange graphic designs. As if whoever created both blankets took whatever scrap fabric and yarn they had and combined them together with no color scheme in mind. He took a moment to knead the knitted blanket in his hands, scrunching the yarn and lacing his fingers through the holes.

The tension in his shoulders lessened, and he took a breath. Remus’s hand had moved away from his face. The side of the face that was his. He could feel the slight moisture linger still, as if the man had pecked his cheek. Remus simply stood there, unmoving, sitting in a chair, and there was something odd and familiar about this scene, this memory that would play in his mind whenever the screen would go dark.

Usually, the man wore what he pulled out of his closet without looking. By closet, he meant the patch of the junkyard that looked to have slightly more fabric than others. Or at least, that was what Remus told him when he had commented on his bold fashion statements the first time. He was wearing something else. The dark sweater had a collar that looked like it had been stretched and torn. The knit was tucked into baggy pants. Simple. Patches of what looked like moss-covered garments. Dee scrutinized his head, his body, all the sensations that made up himself, confused, attempting to understand this feeling of melting.

A tress of frilly stock, scarred and white, was swept across the top of Remus’ mane of external gills. Dark patches of green like freckles covered his face, and underneath the stains were a smooth olive green. Dee opened his mouth to say something, but he found that he could not.

He turned his head away, breathing in the air; moisture, dirt, musk, spice, he could not place the smell. His legs were warm, sweating under the blanket. He could not say anything, as if he was reborn all over again, without a name or a face, but instead here, in this place, there was a pleasant softness that he found when he looked at the knit and the patches of olives.

Like fish swimming around each other in a pond, different sensations floated throughout his body: a tight ball in his chest, a thought he could only describe as want, and a heavy weightlessness making his skull tap the ceiling.

“You could stay here if you wanted to.”

Alarmed, Dee stared at him.

“No, I couldn’t. Don’t be silly.”

“Well, its fine with me if you wanted to. Plenty of room. I mean, you’ve already crashed at my place before.”

Dee swatted his arm, and he begun in a lighthearted tone, “it’s not like she would follow me over here and get her goons to pick me up and shoot you in the head—” and Dee was out of breath, throat full of gravel, as he saw Remus’s expression change from soft dirt to stone.

“She’d really do that, huh.” For the first time since Dee woke up, Remus looked away from him. “I guess you got ‘plot stuff’ to do before you can settle down anywhere, Mr. Space Protagonist.”

Dee did not say it aloud, only letting his jaw hang loose and eyes narrow.

“Oh!” Remus said, “I got a present for you.” And Remus bent down and pulled up a cardboard box that had the text “cannnned beanz” and “Big Saucy Bangers” scrawled across it. He placed the box in Dee’s lap and shimmied his shoulders, smiling.

Dee looked at the box, then at Remus, then back at the box.

“Go on, open it! It won’t bite—not this time.” Not that Remus had ever given Dee anything that would bite him before.

Dee opened the box slowly, carefully inspecting it for any hidden mechanisms.

A gun.

Or at least that’s what it looked like. Sort of. It had a wooden handle and a dark metal barrel.

“So, I am not the best at programming, but I noticed what amounted to a safely lock on your blasters. I figured if you ever needed to, uh, go old school, this would come in handy. I can help you figure out how to shoot it if you like! It’s kind of hard to figure out at first, but I eventually got the hang of it.”

It occurred to Dee what he could use this for.

Like cold air twisting into hot, swirling winds collided against his ribcage. He moved his fist, still clenching the blanket, and brought it up to his sternum, hunching over the box. His diaphragm twitched as his lungs held in as much as it could and refused to let go.

He could use this to—

—As if he hadn’t already killed somebody before.

But oh—oh something—the possibility had felt so far, so dreamlike, that simmering revenge a burning candle in a window, keeping him afloat from afar, it was engulfing him. He heard Remus calling out for someone, vaguely, full volume, right next to his ear, but then he also didn’t. He lifted his head up and his hands were numb, and he might have been shaking—

—Looking into Remus’s dark eyes, sunken, sparkling, like a gunmetal lagoon, Dee felt his heart join the chorus of his entire body collapsing in on itself at the idea of—the idea of—He couldn’t think, all he could do was vomit the emotions spilling out from his torn chest.

“I woke up one day, the first time I ever remember doing that, and all I could feel was that I needed to kill her. Before I even knew who she was, what she did, I knew somewhere that she needed to die. I just had to remember why.”

Remus did not have a response to that. Well, if he did, it would have been wildly inappropriate. So instead, he leaned forward, held Dee’s shoulder, and pressed his body to his in a warm embrace. Dee leaned his face into his collarbone, limply, needing something to squeeze away the tight knots in his chest—

—How long had Dee sat there? Chatted about nothing with Remus? Slowly, he felt a buzzing in his skull. White noise. A communicator of some kind. Dei’dra was trying to reach him. He knew he had to leave, for Remus’s sake.

He had a cup of coffee in his hands. He noticed rain out the window. A light rain, with a sky clear with sunlight, sun settling into the mountains of trash. Of the junkyard. How picturesque.

Remus was rambling about something, his voice climbing mountains and paragliding down cliffs.

“So, wait, you have no memory of your life before the bitch hijacked ya? I don’t think I can trust a human that doesn’t have a phase from high school that they regret.”

“What?” He really had no idea.

“Yeah, trust me. I work with humans a lot. It’s just necessary somehow? I wouldn’t know.”

Dee twisted his head to the side, squinting to look at him.

“Yeah, anyway, so, you mentioned you needing to leave. I’m not, uh, kicking you out or anything,” And Remus had the audacity to look bashful, “And I would probably prefer to keep an eye on you after that nasty injury you just had, but, uh, I can’t keep you.”

Dee left, but something about that last line made his heart swear.

Made him swear on something.

[je-suis-clarisse]

They had actually put her in a coffin. If Clarisse du Volde hadn't been so enraged and terrified, she might have laughed. If there was anything that she hated, it was that. She had fought like hell when the hunters had put her into it. Using every last bit of her strength, she had fought. Punching, biting, kicking, ripping into their flesh. However, blood laced with a paralytic had rendered her immobile. She was so angry that she could barely think straight but when they'd produced the black box with the red satin lining, she'd found her voice and screeched bloody murder. The higher she made her voice strain, the more painful it would become to the hunters and she did her best to pierce their eardrums. Unfortunately for her, one of the men put on brass knuckles and had knocked her out. When she'd awoken, her mouth had a gag in it and she couldn't move. She tried her best to control her breathing, to forget where she was. She loathed small spaces; she had since she was still human. Colin Francis O'Callaghan, that rotten bastard, had a closet in their home specifically for his rifles and hunting paraphernalia. But when he discovered his then 16-year-old bride wasn't willing to indulge his roughness and begged for tenderness and love, he threw her in there, leaving her for hours on end. It was small and dark and she had scratched at the door until her hands were bloodied, her throat sore and her eyes swollen shut from crying. He took perverse pleasure in catching a rat from the barn and sticking it in with her, listening to her screams as the creature bit at her. To say that she loathed small enclosed areas was a massive understatement. When she awoke after mercifully passing out, Clarisse found that once again, she couldn't move. Looking around, she was on a gurney, restraints keeping her bound to the surface of the uncomfortable contraption. Using her strength, she twisted but the more she pulled, the tighter they became. "For f***'s sake!" She hissed, staring up at the ceiling, the fluorescent lights hurting her eyes. She still felt dizzy and it was in that moment she noticed the needles in her arms. The familiar feeling of burning rose within her but Clarisse let it go; not willing to let that take over yet. If they were hoping for a massacre, she wouldn't disappoint, but it couldn't happen. not yet.   "You didn't think we'd ever get you, did you, Miss du Volde?" A man spoke, his tone cool and amused as he looked down at her. Green orbs focused on his face as he wheeled the gurney into a lab, propping it up and leaning against it so his face was inches from her own. It took everything in her not to come back with a smart ass remark about the stench of his breath. "You had to know it'd happen. You are a creature of particular interest. A vampire, of course. But we all know your secrets. Forgive me, my name is Dr. Francois Hetrick. I know you pride yourself on your manners." "Go f*** yourself," Clarisse countered, trying to pull her arms from the vices they had enclosed them in. "Do not assume you know anything about me. Your name is irrelevant to me. I have no secrets. My life is and always has been an open book. All anyone has to do is ask me." "Oh? You have a weakened healing factor, you're a daywalker and you're a Lazarus Soul, aren't you?" The man continued, the smug expression on his face infuriating her, but she remained silent. These weren't secrets. They were truths and as she said, were anyone to ask her, she would tell the truth. She wasn't afraid of admitting what she was. Remaining calm, she watched as he walked back and forth. Catching a glimpse of his thoughts, she resisted the urge to grimace; He was planning to use her as a lab rat, if you will, and then discard her as if she were trash. The absolute wrath and anger she felt were threatening to erupt and try as she might, she was finding her will diminishing. She couldn't fight it off that much longer. Motioning to the others in the room, they released her hands, though her gaze remained upon the doctor. He lifted a wooden stake from a tray and traced along her jaw with it. "Such a pretty beast," he mused, tone full of amusement, letting the tip move down lower. "It'll be a shame to see this body die. But...you don't really want to live. You're a creature. You need blood to live. That's no sort of life. I could end your suffering." He whispered in her ear and it took all of her good sense not to sink her fangs into the base of his throat and to drain him before his colleagues. "...I would to God that you could kill me, sir," Clarisse hissed, her eyes mere slits, holding her collar down to expose the flesh above her heart now that they had freed her hands. Raising her hand to his wrist, she gripped it firmly enough to make him cringe. "Go ahead. Stake me, if you will. Stab me. Destroy me. No? Your hand is trembling; Coward! You say you could end my suffering but you lack the courage. Kill this body and I will simply be reborn in another. It is my curse. And if you don't kill this one? I merely suffer. For I do not heal as others of my kind do--but you knew that already, of course. But suffering will only strengthen me in the end. And you should pray that my family doesn't come looking for me." Not that they should. She could handle herself. Sort of. If she could, she wouldn't be here. Perhaps she should train more. Releasing him, she snickered as he left the room. His pulse revealing that he was frightened and perhaps he'd gotten more than he bargained for. Cracking her neck, she stretched out with almost feline precision, eyes darting around to the coterie of scientists who looked at her apprehensively. She could hear each of their thoughts, none of them good. It pissed her off to the point of no return, particularly when she heard two of them mention, "doesn't she have a daughter?" Any regard for their lives that she had, was gone within that moment. Laying back on the gurney, she closed her eyes. They ought to have realized the danger when Clarisse simply smiled as the scientists approached her. Truly, they simply wanted to press more needles into her for samples of her DNA and her blood. However, the threat that they may come for Sigyn had sealed their fates. They were so involved with what they were doing that they didn't seem to notice that her eyes, known for their emerald hue had opened once again and had turned to pure obsidian. Her anger coursed through her body, every nerve coming to life as though she had stuck her finger into a socket. Her body temperature began to rise and she knew that fighting this off would be ridiculous. Images of fire came to mind and that was all it took. Turning her hands upwards, palms exposed. She laughed wickedly as they began to scream, needles dropping to the floor, blisters forming on their palms and the flesh beginning to char. The stench of it would have been overwhelming to anyone else, but in this enraged state, it only encouraged her. The screams that came with it only served as an amusing soundtrack. Dr. Hetrick stared in awe of her from behind a pane of glass where he watched from his office above them; he had never expected such a show of power from her. He had no idea she was capable of such. For a man who prided himself on his intelligence and the words of his hunters, he hadn't anticipated this. Looking down at her, he felt his blood run cold as he realized that she was no longer in the lab. "I have always loathed Doctors," she began from his doorframe, crossing the room in a few swift steps. His words died on his tongue as she gripped him, fangs extended to the full length, pressing through the flesh and tearing through the muscle and sinew until they found their target. His blood flowed freely into her mouth and rather messily, she fed on him. But it wasn't enough to drain him. Balling up her fist, she thrust it into his chest cavity, shattering bone and gripped his heart. She relished the feeling of its final beats in her grasp. How many others had he tortured in a quest for immortality? He would not do this again. thump, thump. thump, thummmp... thump... Ripping it from where it once rested she tossed it on his desk, stabbing a scalpel through it. A warning to those who came upon the scene. She found the files with her name on them and destroyed them. It was as if she were never there. Save for the pile of bodies that were strewn about the facility. She could hear others and she moved about, finding other immortals and those gifted mortals locked in varying rooms. What a sight she must have made as she smashed the security device that unlocked all of the doors. She said nothing as they each ran out towards freedom. She herself was suddenly exhausted and she leaned against the wall. Despite the intake of blood, her projection of power had taken its usual toll. She blinked as the familiar visage of her brother appeared. Hands in his pockets as he slowly approached his adopted sister, Erlik Khan's brow furrowed and knelt beside her. She flinched as he touched her, still transitioning back to her normal state. "Risse, it's me. It's Erlik." "Brother mine." Her voice was cold and emotionless as she looked at him. Eyes still dark, though hints of their normal hue were starting to come through. "It's okay." He seemed startled by the scene before him. Granted, he knew their time was up; did he know it previously that it was her who had caused it? He was the Horseman of Death, after all. "You're okay," he reassured her, looking her over. Hands and face drenched in coagulating blood. It seemed as though he were making sure none of it was her own. "I'm okay," she spoke, her voice back to its usual tone, though softer than usual. "C'mon, let's go home," he nodded, helping her up. "I'm ruining your shirt," she gasped, feeling badly instantly. "You can buy me a new one. Don't worry about it, sis." Erlik reassured her. "Or we can make the Puss buy it." He looked at her, knowing any mention of Xavier would calm her down. She dearly hoped he never questioned her about this. The guilt of harming so many people in one night was beginning to affect her. "Hold on, Risse." His arm slinked around her waist and she brought her arms around him tiredly, leaning her head on his shoulder, and before she knew it, they were home again. How had he done that? She was too tired to ask and as soon as her feet touched the ground, she passed out. Sitting up with a start, she looked around the room. Around her on the bed were the puppies Xavier had gifted her for Christmas, Miko, Beau, and Arno, along with her two French bulldogs. Sigyn was in her room, listening to music. Xavier wasn't home, though he must have been as there was a bouquet of sunflowers settled on the table beside the bed. And at the end of the bed sat Erlik. "Please tell me you have pants on," she teased, rubbing at her head. She felt so weak and her head throbbed. "This time," he retorted with a cheeky grin that made her chuckle. "So...what the hell happened?" He asked. "I was out...I wasn't even hunting," she began. "And then, this group of hunters captured me. They ganged up on me and shot me with something. Then, they stuck me in a coffin..." she explained, grateful as he handed her a large mug. She didn't have to ask what it was. She was grateful as she sipped at it. Going through the entire thing was almost theraputic...but it also struck her that she had killed a dozen people, some who were probably just there to do their job. Focusing on that hurt her heart. She had told James Kriet that she wasn't a monster; but her behavior had proved the potential to become one. Erlik patted her knee. "You just did what you had to to survive. You weren't in the book." It was his way of saying, 'It wasn't your time yet.' A small comfort, but still. Putting it aside, she smiled gently. "Thank you for bringing me home," she spoke appreciatively. "No prob. I wouldn't feel too bad, Risse." "Why?" "Cause 'parently a lot of people wanted to take out that bastard and his crew. You did good. No one's been able to infiltrate them for the last few years. They were too well organized. And you took 'em out and saved about 40 something people--human and immortal alike." Eyebrows lifted in delight at that news. It made her think of something she had heard years prior--kill one, save a thousand. It was something she had heard a Jewish woman say during the second world war; a paraphrasing of a verse from the Talmud. "he who saves the life of one man saves the world entire." And for that...Clarisse felt some level of peace.  

[flyonmylovee]

For @digiauthorenergize, inspired by Under Cove of Darkness by The Strokes. (That’s right, I’m still doing these !! And I will always be accepting them but lord knows when I’ll finish them all.)

“What do you mean you’re busy tomorrow? We were supposed to make plans.” “Supposed to. Your little brother got to me first! Isn’t that nice, him wanting to take me out?” “Yeah. Nice.”

It didn’t take long for Yamato to ring Takeru to interrogate him about what he wanted with Sora. The younger boy made a mockery of his skepticism.

“What?! How long have you two been dating now? Is it wrong of me to want to get to know her a bit better?”

There were many things that Yamato could have said to remind Takeru that he’d already known her for years, but he knew this was a battle he wouldn’t be winning. He groaned and hung up the phone. 

As it was, Takeru was the only one who knew the plans. Sora hadn’t asked because she figured it wouldn’t be anything much. Yamato, on the other hand, didn’t ask because he figured he’d be better off not knowing. Their one o’clock lunch plans often turned into treks across the city- days spent at arcades, movies, spur-of-the-moment concerts. When Sora mentioned that Takeru would be picking her up at noon, Yamato predicted that she was in for much of the same. 

Sora had just finished getting ready when she heard the doorbell ring. Her mother called her name. “Sora!”

She felt the need to take a final glance in the mirror as she hurried out of her room. The relationship she shared with Takeru and all of the other chosen was unique, but she wanted to treat their outing with respect. He was Yamato’s brother, after all, and his opinion was important. Sora wanted to make a good impression outside of their adventures. In a way, she was looking forward to the jolt of normalcy. They probably owed each other their lives, but would he think she was interesting? 

Sora’s mother had already welcomed the boy inside by the time she made it out of her room. He waved to her as she scurried down the hall, slipping her feet into her tennis shoes near the door. 

“Perfect timing!” She beamed at him. “I’m starving.” 

Takeru blinked. “You didn’t eat?”

Sora had leaned down to tie her laces, but she paused to look up at him curiously. “Oh- are we not going for food? Sorry, I assumed-”

“No, no! It’s fine!” Takeru grinned and waved his hands back and forth in front of him. “We’ll definitely have time to grab something quick!” He checked the time on his phone as Sora pulled her bag over her shoulder. “Yeah, definitely.” 

The humid summer air clung to Sora’s skin as they stepped outside. She regretted wearing jeans, but was thankful her short sleeves let her shoulders breathe. “So, where are we going?” Sora turned to him and used her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. 

“Ah, right.” He pulled two tickets from his back pocket and held them up for Sora to see. “Yamato got me really into this band and he mentioned that you started listening to them too. I thought it’d be fun to go!” 

Takeru grinned at her and Sora’s mouth gaped. A concert was the opposite of what she was expecting, but she wondered if it was naive of her to expect him to sit at a cafe and chat. She took one of the tickets and read it over. “Oh, them! They’re great, yeah I-” she paused and furrowed her brow. June 2nd? That was yesterday, and-

“Wait.” Sora stopped in her tracks and peered up at Takeru, sure he’d made a mistake. “This concert’s in America.” 

She braced herself for the boy to panic upon realizing he’d wasted his money. Instead, his grin widened. “Well yeah!” he responded gleefully. “This band never comes to Japan. Trust me, I’ve been watching their tour. I figured if I ever wanted to see their show I’d have to go to them.” 

“B-but Takeru...” Sora stammered, struggling to piece together his logic. She was still thinking in hypotheticals. “How would we-”

“Get to New York?” Takeru finished for her. He was a few feet in front of her now so he paused and turned around. “You have your digivice with you, don’t you?”

Sora mumbled something incomprehensible as she suddenly felt the weight of it in her bag. She never left home without it. It was packed in case of emergencies though, and this was quite the opposite. She nodded hesitantly and shifted her weight on her feet, gripping her bag’s handle on her shoulder like she was guarding a secret. 

“Great!” Takeru replied. Sora’s confession seemingly locked her in, but her nerves must have been noticeable. The boy’s grin faded into a reassuring smirk. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? I made sure to loop Mimi in. She showed me the way.”

Sora felt lighter from the reassurance, but it wasn’t enough to be rid of the weights in her feet. She stared at Takeru for a moment as she processed everything. He’d bought tickets to a concert continents away, but had somehow managed to level the craziness of his idea by consulting with the only other person on the planet who used inter-dimensional portals for long distance travel. Takeru’s gaze grew more concerned as she remained lost in thought. The idea was wild, yet thoughtful? Sora bit her lip and felt lighter still.

“Hey,” Takeru murmured, the excitement in his eyes fizzling. “We can just get lunch if you prefer. I don’t want to have you do anything you’re uncomfortable with. I’ve never done this myself, so-”

“No!” Sora exclaimed, shocking Takeru and herself. Had she just jumped headfirst into these plans? The girl could see her friend’s eyes brighten again, so she sighed and composed herself. Besides, she wanted to make a good impression- to be interesting. How could she let him down? “Let’s do it.” 

Now Takeru was the one stammering. “Really? You mean it? You want to go?”

“Yes!” Sora covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. “Your plans are so thoughtful. It’d be rude to turn them down. Besides, I haven’t been to many concerts. They must be a sight to see in New York!”

Takeru still looked like he was in disbelief. He asked again, “Really?”

The girl smirked, finally able to pick up her feet to pass her friend. “Really! But if you keep asking me maybe I’ll change my mind.”

“Ah... I... Right!” His grin was back in full force as he jogged to get back to Sora’s side. “To New York!”

“To New York.” Sora sighed, her visage relaxing. She released her grip on her bag and let her hands fall lazily to her sides. “Does Yamato know about this?”

The only response she got was laughter. 

Takeru led them to the closet digital gate and opened it with his D-3. They hopped in, one after the other, and landed in the familiar vibrance of the digital world. The portal scanned them as they went through- “digitizing” them- and all electronics besides their digivices ceased to work. 

They trailed through the woods a short ways until they came upon the portal to America- a lone, out of place computer. It lit up after detecting their presence and allowed them to pass. The two chosen landed under the moonlight, spat out into a field just outside the city. Sora stared up in awe at the lights. They twinkled like the stars, acting as a mesmerizing replacement for the real ones that hid from a sky that never got dark. 

Takeru pulled out his phone and stared at the screen. The pixels were a blur due to the effect of the digital gate. Once the clock settled into New York’s time zone, though, Takeru clicked it off and stuffed it back into his pocket. “We’ve got a half-hour till showtime. We’ll need to hurry!” Sora nodded and hustled on after him. 

The girl was pleased to see that Takeru had done his research. He muttered the names of street signs to himself like he’d looked up the route beforehand. She could tell they were getting close when more and more people were dashing past them in band t-shirts. The venue- a large stadium- dominated the next couple of blocks. Sora could pick up fractions of English as everyone in line in front of them chattered excitedly. Takeru’s eyes started to gleam. If Sora felt any lingering anxiety about continent-jumping through the digital world, it had completely vanished. She felt like she’d already made a good impression as a normal human being, and the care that Takeru put into his plans was strangely flattering.

When they reached the front of the line, a security guard motioned for their tickets. Takeru pulled them front his back pocket and handed them over. Sora watched him peer around the large bouncer and into the entrance like the bustling energy of the place was pulling him inside. Sora wasn’t normally excited by that sort of energy, but she understood it. Takeru impatiently shifted his weight back and forth on his feet as the bouncer scanned their tickets. Sora waited for the familiar ‘ding’ of approval that granted everyone in front of them access. Her companion’s elation was starting to rub off on her and it was becoming difficult to tell whether she was excited to be a part of the crowd herself, or excited about the fact that Takeru was so happy.

The line had been moving smoothly, but for some reason the security check was taking longer for them than it was for everyone else. The scanner made a dissatisfied buzzing sound as it read their barcodes. Frowning at the tickets, the bouncer tried to scan them a few more times to no avail. He handed them back to Takeru and pointed down towards the back of the line. 

“Sorry kid, no valid tickets no entrance.”

Takeru blinked in disbelief. “W-what?”

The bouncer repeated himself in the same monotone voice. “No valid tickets no entrance.”

The boy looked at Sora like a lost child. The people behind them were starting to grumble, so she stepped out of line and pulled him with her. “What happened to the tickets?” She asked, furrowing her brows in confusion.

“I... I don’t know.” He stared at them in disbelief. Had he been scammed? Seemingly not, as a look of realization came over his face. “No...”

Sora frowned. “What?”

“The portal!” Takeru slapped a hand to his forehead. “It must have invalidated the barcodes! But how!”

Any hope that Sora had about fixing their dilemma hissed away into the humid night air. They couldn’t exactly explain what happened, but she wasn’t about to let Takeru beat himself up over this either. He’d thought through everything he knew could have gone wrong, but with adventures like these, there was always something unpredictable.

“Hey...” Sora muttered, eyeing Takeru’s drooping shoulders. “It’s alright! We’ll find a way! Here, come on.”

The girl motioned around the corner of the stadium and the two of them dashed off. There had to be another entrance. Sora wasn’t sure what conditions it would take for her to trespass, but Takeru’s defeated visage was certainly convincing. It seemingly didn’t matter, though, as every back entrance they spotted was under careful watch. The blonde eventually leaned against the stadium wall to catch his breathe. “It’s useless.” 

“No...” Sora began, trying to sound as reassuring as possible even though she knew they’d checked each side of the stadium for open access. There was nothing, not even a fence to climb. 

“Sora,” Takeru glanced up at her apologetically, “I appreciate it, but I really don’t think we’re getting in there. I’m sorry I dragged you all this way for nothing. Man... I was really hoping to see them too. In New York, no less!” He sighed and pushed his hair out of his face, sliding down against the wall until he was sat on the ground. 

Sora crossed her arms over her chest and looked down at him. The look of defeat on his face was heartbreaking, even if Sora was secretly relieved that the opportunity to do something morally ambiguous hadn’t presented itself. “Well, we’re still here!” she said, trying to cheer him up. “We might as well do something! Why don’t we act like tourists for a bit? You know, go around and see the sights. I bet there’s places we can see the whole city from!” 

“The whole city...” Takeru mumbled under his breath. His eyes suddenly lit up. “Sora, that’s it!”

“What?” Sora asked, crinkling her nose, “What’s it?”

“Seeing the sights!” He jumped to his feet and pointed behind her. Sora spun around and saw what’d caught his attention. There was a bridge a few blocks away that connected Manhattan to the next borough. She could make out the designated pedestrian side of it. Unlike the half that accommodated cars, it was empty. 

“Er, Takeru...” she began, struggling to understand how her tame suggestion had led him to this idea. 

Music started up in the stadium behind them and Takeru excitedly grabbed hold of her arm. “Come on!” 

As Sora kept pace behind him, she secretly wished that there would be no manageable way to gain height on it. To her disbelief though, there was a runged ladder that went up one of it’s columns. It was clearly meant for workers who’d need to gain access to the large structure. The ladder lead to a flattened landing that looked like the size of a small room. She stared up at it with anxiety. Takeru stared up at it like a mountain waiting to be conquered. In a way, Sora felt like the stars had lined up to push her towards danger. The ladder was perfectly accessible, no one was around, and she was sure there wasn’t a single thing she could say that would convince Takeru to keep his feet firmly on the ground. If she refused to go up, he’d probably still want to check it out. She watched him test out the first rung before hoisting himself up. “Takeru,” she tried meekly, “this looks incredibly dangerous.”

As if on cue, he said what she’d expected him to. “Well, let’s just take a look! We can come right back down!” he paused and turned to her, offering up a reassuring grin. “It’ll be fun. Besides, I won’t let you fall. Yamato would never forgive me, and I can’t live with him nagging me for the rest of my life.” 

Sora failed to see the fun in any of it, but as Takeru climbed higher and higher, she felt a responsibility to follow him. She steadied herself on the ladder, took a deep breath, and let herself leave the ground. 

As she neared the top, Takeru held his hand out to help pull Sora onto the ledge. The moon reflected off her skin the same way it illuminated the water below them. A blinking tower in the distance covered them in shades of red every time it lit up. As Sora hoisted herself over the edge and scrambled towards the center of the landing, she could hear music playing in the background. It was energetic yet muffled, sometimes struggling to differentiate itself from the city’s hustle and bustle. Spotlights came from inside the stadium and lit up the sky, reflecting off the clouds and shining back down on earth. 

Takeru had turned around so he could sit and dangle his feet over the ledge. He looked over the city like he ruled it, but he was a darkened silhouette absorbed by the height of the skyline before him. Wind tousled Sora’s hair and she instinctively reached for something to grab onto, but there was nothing near her besides the flat concrete surface. Her stomach lurched with feelings of vertigo, but her eyes fell to Takeru. He’d leaned back on his palms and shut his eyes like the breeze made him feel more in the moment. She furrowed her brows at him. Wasn’t he scared to fall?

Sora sighed. Her mind told her to stay put, but her body pulled her towards the ledge. What was this feeling of longing? She crept up beside him and slowly twisted her legs so she could let them dangle like Takeru’s. Her stomach lurched again, but this time it was with a feeling of weightlessness. Over the honking of car horns, Sora could hear a new song start in the distance. The spotlights turned from white to dark blue to match the tone of the music. 

Sora wanted to look down but she couldn’t will herself to do it. Instead, she glanced over towards Takeru. He’d opened his eyes and had gone back to looking over the city. His calm visage nagged at her curiosity. She waited a few moments to see if his sense of peace was an illusion before speaking up.

“Aren’t you scared?”

Takeru glanced at her out of his peripheral vision and raised a brow. “Of what?”

“Of falling.” 

Now the boy turned to look at her. There were a million other fears she could have listed involving bridges and heights, but that one felt most appropriate. The look Takeru gave her, though, made it seem like he couldn’t think of a single one. 

“Not really.” The boy responded, leaning forward to look towards the ground like he needed to confirm he was actually a hundred feet from it. “I suppose I should be. Most people are, right? I couldn’t imagine getting Jou up here.” 

Takeru leaned back again and Sora felt her heartbeat steady. She let out an amused sigh. “What about Yamato?”

“Heh.” Takeru chuckled himself. “Depends on his mood.” 

Their words dissolved into silence again, but there was so much stimuli around them that it wasn’t bothersome. They took a minute to people-watch before Takeru decided to speak up once more. Sora turned to listen. Part of his face was visible in the light, part of it not. Still, the girl could tell he was deep in thought.

“I used to be afraid of heights, you know.” He matched her gaze for a moment before scanning the skyline again. “When I was a little kid I wouldn’t climb anything. I was kinda smothered. Mom always kept a close eye on me, and Yamato...” his voice trailed off, but there was an unspoken understanding that Sora didn’t need an explanation. “The digital world helped with that, though. I’ve never been farther out of my comfort zone. There were mountains to trek, spires to climb... it became kind of thrilling.” 

The corner’s of Sora’s mouth twitched upwards with nostalgia. 

“Not to say that I became fearless...” Takeru quickly added. “I think I just learned that there are scarier things than heights.”

The boy saw Sora’s smile fade, and guilt coaxed him into correcting the melancholy tone his speech had taken. He nudged her and smiled reassuringly. “Hey, how lucky of us to always have someone to catch us though, right?”

“The digimon?” Sora questioned, recalling the handful of times Birdramon or Garudamon had plucked her from the sky. 

“Yeah,” Takeru responded, tilting his head up to look to up at the stars. “but our human friends too. After the mishap with the tickets, today could have really ended up being a downer. I’m glad you were willing to climb up here though! To be honest, this morning, I didn’t know if you’d come along.” 

“Well,” Sora said, leaning back to look up at the stars herself, “I’m certainly glad I did.” 

Takeru smiled whimsically and at nothing in particular. He normally didn’t like to speak on his brother’s behalf, but there was something about the moment that pulled the words out. 

“Hey.”

Sora tiled her head to acknowledge him. He was looking at her like a long lost friend- one that you never thought you’d see again but were thankful to have around. She narrowed her eyes with concern. 

Takeru sighed, his exhale carried away with the wind. “I think you’re good for my brother.” 

Lines of surprise sprang up on Sora’s forehead. She hadn’t expected him to say something like that, so she was slow to form a response. Luckily Takeru carried on with his thought before she would’ve had a chance to. 

“My brother and I didn’t have a ton of friends growing up. I thought he was my best friend until our parents got divorced. It’s unusual for kids of divorce to see each other back in Japan, you know? So we truly were lucky. I was so small when everything happened- I think Yamato shielded me from most of it. He was always there to catch me and to this day I struggle to return the favor.”

“But you’re such a good brother-” Sora quickly interjected.

“I know.” He broke their gaze before continuing on. “I’ll always be there to catch him when he needs it, but he’s too stubborn to acknowledge that sometimes a younger sibling has to look out for his elder. His thanks used to come in the form of taking the blame when we’d get in trouble, or giving me his blanket when I was cold.”

Sora smiled. She’d been fortunate enough to see that sort of softness from Yamato every once in awhile. Their exchange caused her to wonder what she still had left to learn. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say,” Takeru continued, “is that I’m glad he’s got someone like you to rely on. I can tell you make him happy so, er... thanks.” He looked at Sora out of the corner of his eye and caught her blushing. 

“It’s... noticeable?” she stammered. “I make him happy?”

“’Course!” Takeru laughed. “It’s not my story to tell, but he’ll find the words one day. In the meantime, I guess I’ll just have to learn to share him, huh?” 

Sora burst out in a fit of laughter, covering her mouth with her palm so as not to be rude. Takeru was pleased with her reaction. For being so far from Tokyo, there was something about their shared moment that made him feel closer to home than he’d felt in a long time. He could easily imagine her laughter filling either of his parent’s apartments at dinner. Maybe she’d start to come over more. Yamato would try and cook an extravagant meal to impress her and he’d get to reap the benefits. Their father would sit at the table instead of in front of the tv. His mother would look at Yamato’s happiness and nudge Takeru to silently remind him that he’d need to find a girl like that too. The boy felt his lip quiver as Sora’s laughter floated off into the night. Their silence grew again, and if it was possible, it was more content than before. 

But, as surreal moments like that go, it was interrupted by a voice from below. 

“Hey!” A gruff voice called up to them in English. “Whaddya two doing up there?!” A flashlight illuminated their hiding spot. 

Sora snapped her head around to look at Takeru. He was already scanning for an alternate exit. Luckily, he noticed rungs similar to the ones they’d climbed up trailing down the other side of the column. “I guess it’s time to make our exit.” he whispered as he pointed urgently towards the opposite end of the landing. Sora nodded at him and crawled over towards it, still nervous to have less than four points of contact with the surface. 

As Sora swung herself over the side and started her descent, Takeru turned back to keep an eye on the worker. His light was scanning for them, so maybe if they stayed hidden they’d have a chance to get away. After one final sweep of his surroundings, Takeru followed Sora’s path. He landed on the ground next to her with a quiet thump. Heavy footsteps turned the corner and the light fell on them once more.

“You there! Stop!”

Sora and Takeru exchanged knowing glances. The yellow light emphasized their wrinkles of worry. For a moment, Takeru felt bad. Just when Sora was able to convince him that he hadn’t pushed her too far out of her comfort zone, they’d gotten caught. This isn’t how Takeru wanted the night to end. What would they do if they had to explain how they’d gotten there? Just then, though, Sora flashed him a mischievous smirk. It reminded Takeru of the time he first climbed a mountain and looked out in awe instead of fear. She wasn’t going down like this either, and just before the man reached them, the two of them took off. 

“Hey!” he called after them, his heavy footsteps fading into the background. 

Takeru let out a heap of laughter once he felt safe enough to do so. As the music played on behind them, he almost missed a turn. Sora reached out and grabbed his arm just before he started off down the wrong street. “This way!” 

The sidewalk eventually morphed into grass and the two of them ran through the dirt towards the abandoned piece of hardware they’d originally come through. Takeru yanked his D-3 out of his pocket and held it out, opening the portal. As Sora waited for his form to disappear before jumping in after him, she turned around and took a good look at where she came from. The bridge stood brightly over the river and the music quieted down. Nothing that day had gone according to plan, and oddly enough, Sora felt more like herself for it. She let out a sigh of relief as the portal pulled her in. 

Sora and Takeru decided to stop by Yamato’s apartment on the way home to let him know they were both alright. Yamato stared down at their muddied shoes. “I don’t even want to know.”

“Ah, thanks for today, Sora-san!” Takeru exclaimed as Sora headed out. “Let’s actually get lunch soon, alright?”

“Mmm.” she nodded, “Definitely.” 

Yamato shifted his gaze back and forth between the two of them, eyeing Sora carefully as she left. He sighed and followed her out, closing the door behind him.

“Hey.” he called out to her before she got too far away. She turned and raised a brow. “Alright, I’m curious. What’d you two get into today?” 

Sora stifled her laughter. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Why don’t you ask Takeru?”

[lovedlace]

as well as a happy holidays from my little Kiwa avi 💗 and some of my other gals too!

[lovedlace]

tag drop

[artificialqueens]

Beauty is Pain (Vatya) - Honey

A/N: Katya wonders why Violet is acting strange on the BOTS tour.

I wrote this a while ago but I never posted it… I think I’ve since gotten better at writing and characterization but I don’t really want to rewrite this so here it is.

Violet pushed the button in the elevator and then leaned back against the side rail, closing her eyes. Beside her Katya stood, silently looking at his phone, yawning. Both were exhausted and could not wait to finally de-drag.

The rest of the queens on the BOTS tour with them had already made it to the hotel, which was only a few buildings down the street from the venue at which they had performed that night. The club didn’t have a dressing room so the queens were forced to get ready in their hotel rooms and then show up to the gig in full drag.

They had all left the club at the same time but Violet had been walking slower than the pack of drag queens. Most of them were no longer even wearing wigs and had switched their Louboutins for slippers. Katya had been talking with her, or rather at her (Violet hadn’t really been talking back) and so the pair had become separated from the rest of the queens on the way.

As the elevator slowly climbed up to the sixth floor, Katya looked Violet up and down.

“New dress?”

“Huh?” The taller queen opened her eyes and looked over at Katya.

“I said, s’that a new dress? I’ve never seen you wear that one. You look stunning, by the way. Could your waist get any smaller, you fucking bitch?” Katya joked. Violet stared down at her impossibly tiny waist.

“Yup,” she replied curtly, and then looked down at the floor. Katya wondered why she was acting so distant when the elevator finally arrived at the sixth floor and the doors slid open.

They walked out and down the hall to their shared room. The pair has grown pretty close over the course of this tour, so they always requested to share a room whenever the hotel budget required it. Katya tapped the keycard and then pushed open the door to hold it open for Violet. As soon as the younger queen was inside, he made a beeline for her makeup removal wipes and began to furiously rub his face.

“Can you unlace my corset for me?” Violet asked. These were the first real words she had said to Katya almost all night since they had gotten into drag hours earlier.

“Sure, lemme just finish taking off my makeup. These eyelashes were a bitc-“

“Katya,” Violet interrupted, which made him stop talking and look up at her. “I really need you to help me take off my corset now.” She stared at Katya unblinking.

“…Okay,” Katya said after a pause, looking into Violet’s serious face. Violet kicked off her heels, unzipped her dress and walked over to the bed allowing herself to fall face down onto it. Her hips and legs were still hanging over the edge with her dress pooling at the floor by her feet.

Katya had no idea why she is acting so strangely, as Violet is usually so playful, especially around her. The two usually talk backstage nonstop, Katya doing everything he can to get Violet to laugh. But tonight Violet had been quiet, standing alone in the corner of the tiny closet the club considered a dressing room. Katya had watched her performance though, a little burlesque number, she seemed as good as always. The crowd certainly seemed to like it at least. They had all gasped when she walked out on stage; her corset pulled so tightly she looked like she would snap in half at any moment.

“Katya?” Violet called from the bed, still in the same position, making Katya snap back to reality.

“Ooh, sorry Vi,” he said, and quickly walked over behind Violet, grabbing the laces at the very bottom of the corset and untying them. As he gently undid the intricately laced and incredibly tight string, Violet’s eyes closed tightly and her nose scrunched with a pained expression on her face.

Katya noticed this and paused for a moment, leaning down towards her. “Violet, are you alright? It looks like you’re in pain…” Violet suddenly snapped.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Katya! Can you just unlace the damn corset?” Katya was taken aback for a moment. He didn’t understand why Violet was acting so bratty. After ignoring him all night, the least she could do is show a little appreciation for him helping her undress in the first place. But he didn’t say anything back. Without another word, he finished unlacing the corset and gently opened it up. Suddenly, he gasped.

Lining Violet’s back, under where the eyelets of the corset were positioned, were little bruises and blisters. Some were bleeding and others just bright red and raw-looking.

Violet quietly let out a groan but didn’t move from where she lay on the bed. Katya just stood behind her, stunned. Her behavior now made sense. She had been in extreme pain all night for a possible total of five or six hours. Katya knew Violet liked to push her body’s limits but this was excessive. No one had asked Violet to do this to herself. Katya is fuming - how could she think this is okay? He could have loosened the laces for her at any time between numbers, if only Violet had said something about being in pain! It should never have gotten to this point, Katya thought. He was about to give Violet a piece of his mind when he looked back down at the queen in front of him, shaking and clenching the blankets tightly in her fists.

Katya knew that usually in situations like this his anxiety hits him like a truck and he freaks out. Right now though, he knew that he needed to keep calm and help Violet. Still, he can’t help but raise his voice a little.

“Violet!” Katya barked, a little louder than intended. “Your skin is shredded! This corset was waaaay too tight. Are you insane? You could have told me that you were in pain, I would have helped you!”

Violet was silent for a few seconds, and then mumbled something that Katya doesn’t catch.

“Huh?” Katya asked, his voice returning to its normal volume. Violet propped herself up to look at Katya.

“I said, beauty is pain.”

Katya immediately softened and stared at Violet for a second. He then quickly walked across the room to grab his phone. He dialed a number and put the phone up to her ear, gently sitting down next to Violet on the bed. Violet laid back down on her stomach, this time longways on the bed with her head facing toward Katya, her eyes glossy. Katya sighed as the phone rings, looked down at Violet, and then gingerly placed his hand on the back of Violet’s neck as if asking for permission. The younger queen relaxed into it, so Katya began to rub his thumb in small circles. The person who Katya was calling picked up.

“Michelle, you’re still awake!” Katya exclaimed. Violet tensed up and was about to say something when Katya shushed her gently. “I got a few blisters from my heels, do you have any ointment in your room?” Katya asked, knowing that Michelle Visage always carries everything a drag queen could need, including first aid gear for the various mishaps they encounter. Katya made the decision not to tell Michelle about Violet’s current condition because he knew Michelle would insist on barging in and helping Violet herself, all while possibly lecturing or yelling at her. Katya could see that Violet actually has a great deal of respect for Michelle, despite their tension on the show. Violet wouldn’t want Michelle to see her like this, and she would just be annoyed with whatever Michelle has to say anyways, Katya thought, so he resolved to bend the truth a bit.

Violet couldn’t hear Michelle’s voice on the other line, but Katya nodded his head and said, “Great, I’ll come to your room to get it now. Thanks,” and hung up the phone.

“I’ll be right back Violet” Katya told her, giving her head a pat and then standing up. “Don’t move a muscle.” Katya expected a snarky response, but Violet just replied earnestly, “I won’t.” With that, Katya grabbed her room key and headed to the door. Just before the door closed, Katya thought he heard a faint “thank you.”

Coming back to the room, ointment in hand, Katya found Violet completely naked, facedown and sound asleep on top of the covers. He almost considered letting the younger queen sleep before remembering that she was still wearing a full face of makeup. Walking over to the bed, Katya gently tapped Violet’s shoulder.

“Violet… Violet… Wakey Wakey!” Violet’s eyes fluttered open and she groaned. “I know you’re tired but I really need you to put this ointment on your back. Okay?” Violet sighed.

“Can you do it for me, Kat? Please?” Normally, Katya would wheeze with laughter and call Violet out for being a spoiled brat, but in this case he could tell Violet was being sincere in asking for help; a rare request from the independent queen. Katya decided to encourage the behavior.

“Sure, Vi. I just need you to stand up for a second.” Violet got up, still nude yet unashamed, and stood before Katya rubbing her eyes and yawning. Katya sat on the bed with the ointment and some wrap bandages. “Can you lay across my lap?” Violet complied, draping herself over Katya with her stomach on Katya’s legs. Katya slowly started rubbing the ointment on the sores, each time eliciting a hiss or whimper from Violet, although he could tell that Violet is trying her best to stay silent.

By the time Katya got to the last sore, he could tell that Violet is worn out.

“Violet, I know you said pretty hurts but… this was a little extreme, even for you.”

“I know my limits, Katya,” Violet said cooly, turning her head to face away from Katya. “I can handle myself.” Katya noted the irony of this statement coming from the kid who was literally laying in his lap while being taken care of, but he doesn’t say anything else. He realized that Violet prides herself on being totally self-sufficient and is not likely to ask for any help unless she needs it. Instead, he motioned for Violet to prop herself up so he can slide out from under her and stand up. He grabbed the roll of bandages and wrapped them haphazardly around Violet’s torso to keep the ointment from rubbing off. Katya reached for the makeup wipes and without a word began to wipe Violet’s makeup off for her. Violet sat silently and let him, as she unpinned the hairpiece she was wearing to free her own long, tangled hair from the snatched ponytail.

Once both queens were cleaned up, Katya guided a very sleepy and still naked Violet to the bathroom to brush their teeth. Katya finished first and sat back on the bed against the headboard, pulling one pillow behind him and another onto his lap.

Violet rarely, if ever, showed any kind of vulnerability. It’s just not her brand. Katya knew that she is one of the most long-suffering drag queens, so committed to every single look and performance. To see her like this was actually quite jarring, Katya thought. Just then, Violet reentered the room and silently lied down on the bed to rest her head on the pillow in Katya’s lap.

“Katya…” she started and Katya could tell she was hesitant to say whatever she was about to say.

“Yeah Vi?”

“Thanks. For everything. And sorry. For snapping at you before or whatever. I- I… just… I’m- I…” She stuttered, pausing briefly to try and find the right words. Her eyes met Katya’s, and suddenly Katya started to giggle, his hand covering his mouth. Violet looked at Katya in confusion. “What, bitch?”

“Nothing!” Katya squealed, still smiling. “I just feel like I’m seeing a totally different side of you. You’re always so… perfect! It’s crazy! And you’re crazy! You know that, right?”

This is the point in their conversations where Violet usually tells Katya to shut up, or cuts him off in an attempt to reign in the crazy. Katya would gush for minutes, sometimes hours, about whatever is on her mind. Usually, that topic is Trixie Mattel, or sometimes it’s race relations in America. Whatever it is, Violet usually doesn’t want to hear it, or rather has already heard it (Katya tends to repeat her rants.) This time, though, was different. This time, the rant was about Violet. So she let Katya continue.

“Finally, this is the vulnerability we’ve been waiting to see from you!” Katya yelled, wheezing from laughter and smacking the bed beside her. Violet just snorted into the pillow, still laying on Katya’s legs, still naked. “I’m serious, Vi! No one commits to their art like you do. That’s just a fact. And I know you’re prepared to suffer if that’s what it takes but… just be careful, alright? Please? For me?” Katya didn’t mean to say the last part out loud, but he was just saying every thought in his head and blurted it out. And although Violet was not looking at him, Katya could see a faint blush on her cheeks.

“Now, get off me and go to sleep, ya whore!” Katya said in her Maureen voice, eliciting a giggle from Violet. “And put on some underwear! Jesus, it’s like you’re allergic to clothes!” Violet rolled her eyes, but she did as Katya said before returning to the bed and laying on her stomach next to him, drifting off to sleep.

A few hours later Katya woke up to his phone alarm buzzing on the nightstand. He attempted to grab it, but was pinned to the mattress. Violet had monopolized the entire right side of his body; Half of Violet’s stomach was pressed directly on Katya’s, her arm draped over the rest of his body, her head in Katya’s armpit. Katya wished they could just stay there for a little longer, but they needed to catch a flight to their next stop on the tour, along with the rest of the queens. Katya gently pushed Violet off her, causing the younger queen to wake up as well. The two packed their few belongings up in near silence, although it was not as awkward as Katya thought it would be. It was just… comfortable. The pair left the hotel room and met the rest of the queens in the lobby. Neither one ever made any mention of the fact that their hotel room, in fact, did have two beds.