#i mean shadow would probably check on him i guess

[rapidhighway]

not a fan of dadow but shit man it does kinda make sense sometimes idk

[tabbedtabby]

good luck, babe! | chapter 1

regina george x reader

summary: After the Queen Bee of North Shore makes up rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing room, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You didn’t think that would mean coming to a reluctant agreement with Regina George.

a/n: if you couldn’t tell from the title, this fic is inspired by “good luck, babe!” by chappell roan. if you’ve never heard it, definitely check it out. updates will most likely be weekly. i don’t know how some of y’all have the time to update every day lol. as a general warning for the whole fic, it will contain homophobia, derogatory language, substance abuse, and unhealthy relationships. other than that thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy this first chapter!!

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Entering your third year of high school, you assumed you knew everything there was to know about North Shore.

Well, at least, how to steer clear of infamy. More specifically, Regina George and her shadows that followed her around like a pair of lost dogs. You knew the trouble and attention they brought with them, a constant trail of destruction that was almost as potent as the stench of their perfume. The secret to avoiding it was as simple as straying from the limelight. You kept to your group, stayed quiet, kept your head down. Didn’t do anything wild enough to trigger Regina’s predatory instincts. You couldn’t say you were afraid of her and her group, but honestly, harassment is the last thing you need as North Shore’s token plug. It would be plain stupid to garner more attention to yourself than necessary.

But even with all of that in mind, here you are, sitting in the principal’s office with enough anger in your chest to probably strangle the man sitting in front of you. Because you didn’t even fucking do what you’re being penalized for. But guess who told Mr. Duvall that you were taking pictures of girls changing in gym? Regina George. She could make up whatever she wanted and even the authority figures at this school would treat it like it was the holy grail. You stare at him with venom in your eyes as he explains to you that you will have to be suspended. For something you didn’t even do.

Regina was in your gym class. You had heard around that she was spreading rumors about you being a lesbian, but that’s not new information to literally anyone, so you didn’t especially care. Then people started giving you disgusted looks in the hallways, calling you some really nasty names, and even some of your close female friends started to avoid you. You didn’t know why until about 10 minutes ago. Apparently, you were the last person to know about your supposed photo collection.

When Mr. Duvall finally lets you leave, you feel the rage boil up inside of you before you can stop it. You’re going to get in so much trouble at home, and for what? Because the world’s most spoiled brat decided your reputation was the one to ruin this week? Does she even realize how her rumors can affect people? Obviously not, because she does it all the fucking time.

You’re way late to lunch, but the moment you step into that cafeteria, it’s like a wild dog being released into the ring. You skip on the lunch line and head straight towards the table where you see Karen Shetty and Gretchen Wieners talking with wide eyes to the blonde head of hair with her back to you. Regina. You lock on like a target, not glancing at anything else surrounding you. Your hands are bunched into fists at your sides as the anger rises up in your throat like bile. How dare she? How dare she completely make up this bullshit about you, get you suspended because of it? And why hasn’t anyone actually done something about it?

You see her turn around. Two ice blue eyes look up at you. Disgusted, maybe even a little confused as she sees you approaching her table. Because no one ever dares enter her territory. She thinks she’s above that. She doesn’t look at you more than a second, though, before your hands are ripping her off the bench by the collar of her shirt.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you practically snarl, your arms already dragging her towards the wall as you slam her against it. Your hands still grip the collar of her shirt, your anger almost palpable. You hear what you think to be Gretchen scream. The cafeteria descends into chaos around you. You don’t care. The only thing you’re concerned about is what’s in front of you right now.

Regina doesn’t even look slightly bothered. In fact, she cocks an eyebrow. Her eyes seem to glow with that malice now. Your hands grip the fabric of her shirt even tighter.

“Oh, no, did I hit a nerve?” she laughs, her eyes looking you over with a newfound disgust. Like you’re simply a piece of trash a wild animal found out it could not digest and spit back up. Like you’re beneath her. You hate the woman, but it’s almost impressive how controlled she is in moments like these.

“You’re just proving me right, you know. Just admit you’re the weird freak that everyone knows you are. I can’t stand a closet lesbo.” she sneers, pushing her face close enough to yours that you can feel her breath on your face.

Something in you snaps when she says those words. Because it’s not even true, and you’re the only person who seems to believe that. The anger’s hot in your chest. Its flames seem to carry your arms as you ball your right hand into a fist.

And you punch the Queen Bee of North Shore directly in the eye.

-

Your suspension was extended. Obviously.

You spend the next 2 weeks cleaning the house until your fingers peel and keeping up with your school work on your computer. People are talking about your fight with Regina all over Instagram and Regina’s acting like a total victim about the whole thing. People sending her their condolences and all that bullshit. As if she was dying and didn’t only get one punch to the face before someone pulled you off of her. It was your health teacher from last year; he seemed a little too eager to grab you and pull you off of Regina.

When you return to school, it seems people still believe those rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing rooms, because your peers are giving you the same sort of looks as before. They clear away from you when you walk past, but not in the worshipful kind of way they do for Regina. More like they’re disgusted to be around you.

Some people are impressed you stood up to her, though. You’re the first of your time. Janis ‘Imi’ike from your AP Lit class gives you a high five in the morning and you give her a big grin in return.

You see Regina in your gym class after lunch, and she looks as good as new. You’re a little disappointed. You kind of wanted to see her with that bright purple bruise on her eye that you’d seen all over Instagram. But there she was, looking like the perfectly crafted Barbie doll that she always seemed to be. Not even a stand of flawless blonde hair out of place. It made you mad. It’s like you did it all for nothing.

To your surprise, though, Regina ignores you. She doesn’t whisper to her minions while giving you dirty looks from across the room, doesn’t send them after you with a raise of her finger. It’s like you’re invisible to her. Honestly, you prefer it that way. You’re tired enough of this whole situation as it is. It’s a godsend she’s not making it worse today.

Coach Carr takes you all outside since it’s one of the last warm days until fall. You stick your Airpods in and walk the track, still keeping an eye on Regina. It’s not like her to not torment someone who got suspended because of one of her rumors. You don’t trust it at all, but she seems content with pretending you don’t exist. Since Karen and Gretchen aren’t in this class with her, Regina resorts to talking to the girls who aren’t quite Plastic, but are still high enough on the social pyramid for Regina to tolerate. You roll your eyes as they mindlessly follow her lead like a pack of lion cubs.

After a couple of minutes, you get bored and sneak off to the woods surrounding the track. Your coach wasn’t the most attentive person in the world, so it was pretty easy. You needed to smoke or you were going to go insane. You take an Airpod out and grab the cart out of your bra. Have to keep it non-suspicious.

You only plan on taking a few hits since it’s so concentrated and you still have another class after this. You come out here so much that you don’t even think about it. Until you hear a voice behind you.

“Are you smoking weed?”

Your neck nearly snaps when you whip your head around. Your heart sinks back down to your chest from your throat when you see Regina George standing there instead of Coach Carr.

“Jesus, what the fuck?” you immediately respond, your voice wavering a bit as you hadn’t even considered someone had seen you slip out. The weed had just started to hit and you could feel it amplify the fear in your chest, even though Regina wasn’t technically immediate danger. Although, your heart begins to race faster as you realize she will definitely try to get you in deeper shit because of this.

Regina begins to open her mouth before you immediately cut her off. “Before you go and tell everyone on this side of the country, everyone already knows. It’s not gonna do anything to ruin my reputation.” Your voice shakes similarly to your legs out of the pure shock of her finding you. You hate feeling cornered, but after your little tussle with her, you know how badly Regina must want to destroy you. Her eyes stare at you unflinchingly, unaffected by what you said. She looks smug enough to make you nervous. You don’t know if it’s because of the weed or your pounding chest, but it seems like minutes pass before Regina says anything else.

“What about Mr. Duvall? Does he know?” Fuck. You’re not getting out of this, are you? Your mouth begins to dry, the spit thick on your tongue as you think of a response. Your dad was already mad enough at you. You didn’t need this.

“No. But I can’t imagine it’ll go well for you if you tell him. I sell to half the school, including Karen. Everyone will be pissed if I get caught.” you respond, already feeling defeated, but you keep your tone searing. You’re taller than her; hopefully it makes you intimidating enough for her to have mercy. Regina doesn’t respond right away. All she does is raise an eyebrow, a smug smirk on one side of her mouth as you watch her consider her options. She’s flawlessly gorgeous in a way that’s enviable. But you kind of need her to not take away your source of income.

“Look, I smoke behind the baseball field every day after school. I’ll give you some for free if you just keep your damn mouth shut for once.” Your voice is almost pleading now. You wish she wasn’t so dead-set on ruining your life.

Time only gets slower as Regina’s smirk begins to widen. It’s a win-win situation for her, and she knows it.

“Fine. But you better not try to kiss me or anything.” she says slowly, spitting out the words like they’re poisonous.

You feel the relief pool in your stomach as soon as you hear those words. It must be obvious by the look on your face, because Regina laughs at you. She has that angry, disgusted sort of look in her eyes that you can’t quite figure out the reason for. It’s a shame because she’s so beautiful. Your body takes multiple seconds to keep up with your thoughts until a question crosses your mind.

“Did you follow me?” you ask, your voice a little too loud as you see her head turn back around.

“Obviously. I knew you weren’t sneaking off to do anything good,” she shoots back, the repugnant expression back on her face. She curls her lip at you before stalking off back to the track field, blonde hair flowing behind her.

How the hell did she even see you leave? Maybe you weren’t the only one paying attention to what the other was doing after your fight with her. But, why? Did she seriously think you were going to try and swing at her on your first day back?

You guess you’ll find out at 3:00P.M. behind the baseball field.

[psfortune]

Not over yet. - (1)

pairing: stalkerexbf!jungkook x female!reader

@ what was leah listening to? : one of the girls - the weeknd

⋆ summary. what do you do if your being stalked? call the police obviously. if you don't and something happens...you cant blame anyone.

⋆ warnings . 18+ mdni... dark/psychotic!jungkook, kidnapping, jk has no morals whatsoever, dirty talk, breeding kink, past relationship mentioned, fluff if you squint, unprotected sex , debatable happy ending , yandere elements, pwp , reader is a big overthinker, major angst dump, jungkook get jealous super easily, misunderstanding, jungkook is mean

Wordcount !!! 846 words ( short chapter )

no smut in this chapter but definitely in the next few. -

༉‧₊˚. this work is pure fiction. no acts performed in this are linked to the charecters that partake in the storyline. please refrain from reading if uncomfortable ༉‧₊˚.

He's been sitting there for hours now. Just sitting, not using the cracked mobile placed next to him or....even blinking? He is doing something obviously but not the most productive thing to do at all.

Watching you.

If you said that was the most creepy thing you've experienced today, you'd be wrong. Completely fucking wrong. What had you done to deserve this? To be locked in this shitty basement on a mattress that must have been bought in the medieval times, that is if they even had mattresses in those times. You'd been Jeon motherfucking Jungkook's girlfriend. Your stomach let out the most horrifying growl which broke the deafening silence.

A low chuckle echoed around the room as footsteps padded towards you. You held your breath and snapped your eyes shut. Trying your hardest to act like you were sleeping. Too bad you never payed attention in the classes your mother splurged on.

' Oh darling...you've never been the best at acting have you? ' a husky voice said. ' I know you're awake. ' a hand brushed your face, your body shivered involuntarily as it trailed down. hooking your chin and forcing you to look up.

Anyone would say he's a beautiful sight. A fallen angel perhaps. Not you though. To you he's the devil on earth. Fucking satan maybe.

He's a Monster.

⸻ . ࣪   . 　♪⃝ Flashback....2 years ago

' Morning love, ' Jungkook sighed. ' sorry for waking you up so early, I completely forgot about the meeting '

You smile at him and peck his cheek, ' Thats okay, I needed to wake up anyway ' you mutter while buttering a slice of bread. Jungkook gives you a side-ways glance ' Why's that? ' he says absent-mindedly, picking up his phone you check unread emails from work. ' I'm meeting up with a few friends from high-school, sort of a reunion i guess' you say awkwardly, hoping begging internally he won't ask which friends. ' That's nice....who's gonna be there? ' well, shit. the universe is definitely not on your side today. ' oh......uhm, just Lilya, Ana, maybe Siena and a few others ' it wasn't lying....they were going to be there...you just hadn't listed the names of ' a few others '. Luckily, Jungkook bought it, relief flooded your face as he walked out the door.........after a rather long make-out session. He did love his kisses, you smirk.

Everything was great. You had missed your old friends. As it was shown, so did they. You had especially missed one person in particular. Your best friend...Min Yoongi. You sweared you weren't crying when you pulled away from a bone-crunching hug that probably lasted a few minutes but it felt that a few seconds. That made you realize how long it'd been since you had seen him. You sat next to him when eating,smiled at him as much as you could, making the most out of the day......it was perfect.

until it wasn't

You turned your back for two seconds tops. You heard a low groan and whipped round only to find yoongi lying on the floor face-down a shadow cast across his body.

jungkook's shadow.

He stared at you with bloodshot eyes,his large frame shaking with rage. The room was quiet. deadly silent. then broken by the scared whisper of a worker as she whispered into the telephone, undebatably to the police.

' what do you think your doing huh?! FUCKING LIAR ! ' lilya, ana ....and maybe siena ' ' he says mocking you ' AND NOW I SEE YOU WITH THIS PIECE OF SHIT HUH? ' he let out a low sigh

Jungkook's eyes switched from yours to the workers and anguish washed over his face, he frowned and grabbed your arm.

' Hurry up, love. If we leave now we can get away.....love? ' it was too quick. the change in tone that is. Something bad will happen if you go with him. You just know it. So of course you stay rooted to the spot. he looked at you a questionable look etched on his face as he kept trying to pull you along with him.

You shake him off ' No. ' you state. Jungkook looked bewilderered ' What do you mean no? Babe there's no time hurry up. ' you shake your head ' No. Jungkook. I mean it. I'm done. This, ' you beckon around and point at him then yourself ' is done ' you finish.

In a moment of anger he lunges at you and grips your hair pulling it hard, making you gasp ' you fucking slut. you're leaving me? ha...this is for him isn't it ' he points at yoongi's still unconscious figure on the floor. ' you've been cheating on me haven't you, well listen here you- ' he never finished that sentence as several police officers strode in and manhandled jungkook until the hadcuffs were securely on his wrists. What Jungkook had done was assault. That was 6 months in prison. Minimum. As the officers dragged him out of the place he shouted something that made your blood curdle.

' you wait bitch. i'll come for you. just wait '

⸻ . ࣪   . 　♪⃝ Present......

You scurry away from him desperately ' JUNGKOOK....PLEASE. ' you sob out ' WE'RE OVER JUST LEAVE ME ALONE !!! '

he chuckles darkly

' but darling we're not over. not yet '

oh my lord.....i cant believe i just wrote that 😭

this is my first post and it going to be a series so... make sure to read the next few chapters 💗

[two-white-butterflies]

sparks | carlos sainz

Description: Carlos Sainz used to be your babysitter, now that you were older - you meet him in the paddocks, and an affair ensues.

It is a common saying that women are delicate creatures, flowers, eggs, anything that may be crushed in a moment of carelessness. If you had believed it, you no longer did.

You used to belong in the upper echelon. Dinner parties, soirees, expensive bags and yacht parties. There wasn't a thing in this world that you couldn't afford - well, that was the past, and ever since your father's death, the family has been a little tight on money.

"Can you handle writing the reports for this new car? The dudes want to grab a few drinks, and you didn't wanna come with." your co-worker leans on the wall beside your desk and you respond with a hum. "I have all the time in the world." you answer, typing a few emails before turning your head in his direction.

"- what time do you need those reports done?" you inquired and he stared at the ceiling. "Preferably before 10, but it'll be okay if you send them tomorrow." he answered, walking away as he sees the other guys in his peripheral view.

As one of the interns in Ferrari - you were in the bottom of the food chain. Unpaid overtimes, too much workload and too little rest was basically normal for you.

"Santisima trinidad!" you exclaimed seeing another man inside of the garage when you opened the lights. "Carlos, I didn't see you there." you scratched the back of your head, keeping your eyes on the floor.

He'd never recognize you, last time he saw you - you were five years old and that was sixteen years ago. "I'm sorry for scaring you." he chuckled, while taking a sip of his beer. "I was just checking the car," he reasoned, placing his phone on his back pocket.

"In the dark?" you asked.

"I couldn't find the light switch." he blushed. Deciding that it was probably a conversation that he wasn't comfortable with, you take a step forward, holding the clipboard close to your chest. He stares at your face for a moment, eyes trailing back and forth between your eyes and your lips.

"You look familiar, do I know you from somewhere?" he stared deeper into your eyes. A chill runs down your spine. There was no way that you'd let him recognize you - it would be awkward. A gigantic elephant in the middle of the room.

"I'm Ferrari's new intern. I think we already met each other back in Spa." you navigated yourself out of the ridiculous predicament. He licks his lips, and suddenly the atmosphere thickens. "Well, you look good." he gives you a micro-smile, walking away from the garage.

As his shadow retreats from view, you let out a breath that you weren't aware that you were holding.

yourname: my biggest hobby 🚗

liked by carlossainz55 and 812 others

>comments

maneater69: UR SO MOMMY AND DADDY CODED liked by yourname

carlossainz55: ❤️

maneater69: HOLDUP @yourname ANSWER UR DMS RN - yourname: SIS IDK WHAT'S GOING ON...

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"Lemme guess, he used his favorite line: you look familiar, do I know you from somewhere?" Paige, your co-worker, teased.

Carlos Sainz was renowned around the paddocks for being a womanizer. There wasn't a single pretty lady that he hasn't spoken to, and apparently he had a modus operandi - one that now involved you. "I mean it's weird because he actually does know me." you shrugged, wiping the car grease from your overalls.

"You used to go to the same school? You're from the same town?" Paige inquired, piqued by the sudden turn of events. "He used to be my babysitter." you groaned, regrettably exposing your secret.

A gasp escapes her mouth.

"That's some hot shit." she chuckled.

"You read too much romance novels." you tried to hide your interest. "- a man whose obviously much older than you, begins to fall in love." Paige antagonized even further, earning a sigh.

Her eyes light up, like headlights.

"Wait, now you have to be my plus one in that event that I'm going to. Carlos is going to be there!" she exclaimed, hatching a devious plan. "But he's a womanizer? Why would you want me to go for him?" your eyes narrowed, annoyed that you were even involved with him in a conversation involving love.

"He'll change for you - and if he doesn't, at least you experienced the feeling of having him love you." Paige mused.

"Sounds chauvinistic." you shrug and she rolls her eyes. "Take one good look at his face, cuz' if you're asking me. I'd rather find ruin in his hands than with some other cheap fuck." she tried to convince you, but you already wanted Carlos Sainz Jr. the moment you talked to him inside of that dark garage.

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yourname: ferrari knows how to partay

liked by carlossainz55 and 723 others

>comments

paigenewhart: um ma'am who gave u the permit to serve? liked by yourname - yourname: i'd like to see ur permit too?

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After the main event, you were quickly whisked off to one of the after-parties. The club was pumping, the music was about to make your ears explode, but suddenly someone's hands were on the small of your back. You turn your head, and you meet his brown ones.

Carlos Sainz Jr. the man that you were here for.

His hands were tenderly placed on your body, nothing sexual - just sensual. It felt normal for his hand to be there. It was nothing different from a husband holding his wife, it was natural for him to be touching you, there were no electric sparks or anything.

"Intern from Ferrari?" he smiled and you smiled in return.

He remembered!

"I don't think that we properly introduced each other. I'm Carlos." he presented his free hand for you to shake. "(Your Name)," you smiled, hoping that he wouldn't remember.

"Oh, that is why you were familiar!" he giggled, a wave of resonance flashing through his features. "I used to babysit you, right? I didn't even recognize you - you've changed." his eyes lingered back and forth. Men like him were easy, there was hidden desire behind those innocent brown eyes.

"- and you haven't changed at all." your teeth burrowed into your cheeks. "You make me feel old, there's only what...seven years between us?" he inquired, doing all the mental math.

"Yep, I was six and you were thirteen." you chuckled nervously, suddenly all the bass seem to tune out of your ears - and the only thing that you could pay attention to was Carlos.

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His lips were on yours, the taste of champagne echoing through your enclosed mouth. His hands roamed around your body, a man searching for water in the middle of a desert.

"Why don't we take this to my room?" he suggested, and you broke free from the kiss - by extension also his hug. A wave of clarity engulfed your body. Did you really want to do this?

"I'm not that kind of person. I'm sorry, this was a mistake." you bolted out of your seat, retreating into the sea of people in front of you.

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(UNKNOWN NUMBER) Not that kind of person What does that mean?

(YOU) not the kind to do 1 night stands m sorry

(Sainz Jr.) I'm sorry for making you feel that way. I never thought of you as just a one night thing. (YOU) nono it's ok don't lie on my account i understand (Sainz Jr.) No it's not. Let me make it up for you. .

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yourname: spontaneous trip to paris 🇫🇷

liked by carlossainz55 and 812 others

>comments

carlossainz55: Five minutes before disaster - yourname: not my fault 🤷🏻‍♀️

carlandounite: UMM? CARLOS SAINZ'S NEW GF?

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carlossainzjrupdates: Carlos Sainz's new gf? @yourname who is apparently a family friend. This is a pic of her with Ana Sainz, Carlos' sister.

liked by 8,483 others

>comments have been restricted

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[python333]

task force 141 reacting to [reader] clinging to them — python333

— — — —

synopsis just as the title says bb!! just some headcanons of the boys reacting to the reader clinging to them and basically following them around like a lost puppy!

relationships platonic!tf141 & reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

warnings written in 2nd person pov [you/your/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign], non-scottish reader [or could be read as scottish with less of an accent], probably ooc :{

note this is so. self indulgent. BUT i need to get my thoughts out rn about these boys because its too much to contain my silly little brain won't let this go and i need to just hdjhsdfjdhj. if anyone wants to request something for me to write pls do it because this is the only thing thats gotten me out of my writers block.

JOHN "BRAVO SIX" PRICE

➥ i honestly don’t even think he’d notice at first.

➥ about a week after you’d gotten to know everyone on the team and started to get used to their quirks, you decide your target to cling onto is gonna be price… because why not?

➥ when i say cling i mean following him around like a lost puppy, just about watching his every move, basically being his shadow.

➥ it’s not until about three days of you doing this when he realizes you’re shadowing him.

➥ when he confronts you about it, it’s less of a confrontation and more like him saying “... do you need something?” and then brushing it off when you shake your head ‘no’.

➥ he’s not really irritated or angry about it, more confused but generally okay with it.

➥ so when he realizes you’re gonna be doing this often, he can’t tell whether he should feel honored or bothered.

➥ spoilers: he ends up feeling honored. it’s his fatherly instincts, y’all already know.

➥ he’s awkward about it at first, now that he actually knows you’re following him, he’s constantly checking over his shoulder and — yep, you’re still there.

➥ so he doesn’t confront you about it again, and just lets you follow him around, and once y’all get closer he teases you for following him around like a duckling would with its mother.

—

You’d been following Price around for a few days now. He hadn’t noticed so far, thank God, but he was definitely close to finding out. You could see the way he’d occasionally glance over his shoulder and see you following him, then keep eye contact with you for a moment before going on with his day — which really confused you at first, but who cares as long as he’s not stopping you? — and letting you follow him.

You had been following him out of habit. You didn’t mean to follow him in particular, it just… happened. Something about his demeanor, you’d convinced yourself, He just feels safe. It’s inexplicable and we will not be diving into my underlying issues to figure out why he feels safe.

So when he’d confronted you about it—or, asked you about it is probably more accurate—with a questioning tone and the words, “Did you need something?”, you shook your head ‘no’, and that was that. The older man had looked at you for another second, eyes looking over your expression as if trying to read you like a book, then went on with his day. You had let out a sigh of relief, and continued your little routine of following him around and being his little shadow.

—

JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH

➥ he’s such a silly guy, man.

➥ he’d notice but pretend he didn’t, just for the sake of seeing how long you’ll follow him.

➥ if anyone points out your presence he’ll ignore it and change the subject.

➥ of course, once he realizes you aren’t letting up your clinginess, he confronts you about it in the most professional way possible!

➥ “Do ye trail everyone ‘round like that, or am I jist special?”

➥ it takes you a moment to figure out what he just said because holy fuck that accent is THICK.

➥ but you figure it out after a quick moment of thinking and struggle to respond, before offering a quiet, “... Uh. I guess you’re just special?”

➥ he is very happy about this.

➥ he nods approvingly and goes on with his day, letting you trail behind him.

➥ he really doesn’t mind, and actually enjoys having you trail behind him.

—

Following around Soap was more of a challenge than you’d intended. It was fun, for the most part, and you liked that he didn’t acknowledge you at all. The main reason you had kept following him was because he didn’t bother you at all, and didn’t even glance back at you as you followed him, no, he simply let you follow him around and shadow him all day.

Of course, you still had training and practice, but the moment you had gotten out of the showers and were done for the day, you’d gone back to following Soap, once you’d found him. Your daily routine was basically: wake up, eat breakfast, follow Soap, go to the training room and follow your CO’s orders, shower and eat lunch or dinner, find Soap, follow Soap, sleep, repeat.

Then one day, on a particularly idle day, Soap had turned to you and popped the question — “Do ye trail everyone ‘round like this, or am I jist special?”

Maybe you were just being dramatic, but holy fuck , his accent made it almost sound like he was speaking a whole different language. You process his words for a moment, before responding with a quiet, “Uh… I guess you’re just special?”

He seemed pretty satisfied with that answer and never really bothered you with it again.

—

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

➥ he realizes immediately and ohhh boyyyyyy.

➥ “Do you need something?” “Did you need something?” “Why are you following me?” “Stop following me.” “Do you need something?”

➥ he is. Very bothered.

➥ constantly looking over his shoulder just to find your annoying ass following him.

➥ will always ask you why you’re following him, and when you shrug or give a bullshit excuse, he gives an exasperated sigh and goes on with his day.

➥ sometimes he’d even try to lose you in the crowd, and when you miraculously continue to follow him through it, he’d somehow become even more miserable. it’s impressive, your dedication to following him around like this.

➥ he’ll warm up to it eventually, maybe a month or two after you’ve started following him.

➥ by month one he’ll stop constantly asking you why you’re following him, and by month two he’ll stop constantly glancing over his shoulder.

➥ and eventually, he’ll stop trying to lose you in the crowds, and instead look for the easiest way to get through them with you trailing behind him.

—

Ghost should’ve known from the moment you persisted with your following of him through thick and thin that you’d never give this up. Honestly, it’s impressive how dedicated you are to trailing behind him like a little shadow, never even speaking to him, just following him.

However, Ghost could persist as well.

You’d follow him around as much as possible, starting at the break of dawn and briefly pausing your following to do whatever training your CO instructed and then resuming your following till curfew. Day after day, Ghost would interrupt your following by questioning it, then when given an answer, he’d give an exasperated sigh and storm off, not waiting for you to catch up.

At first, he thought you wanted to win over some sort of attention or affection from him. So, he made sure not to give you any. He didn’t spare a single moment for you, besides glancing at you over his shoulder and questioning your presence, and yet you continued to follow him. So he experimented with it a bit — he didn’t spare a single glance at you one day, didn’t speak to you one bit, didn’t do anything. Just went around as if you weren’t there. And yet, you continued to follow him, not put off by his behavior at all.

So, he just stopped thinking too much about you, in the nicest way possible. He wouldn’t glance back at you and question your presence, but he also wouldn’t try and lose you around the base. He wouldn’t storm off and leave you running to catch up. Sometimes, he even forgets you’re there at all. He warms up to it, albeit after a few months, but he still warms up to it nonetheless.

—

KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK

➥ i think he’d notice fairly quickly but wouldn’t point it out right away.

➥ like, he’d glance over his shoulder and see you following him, but gaslights himself into thinking you’re just trying to get to the same place he is, so he doesn’t confront you about it or anything.

➥ so when he realizes that you’re following him and not just trying to get to the same place he is, he’s kind of weirded out, but still doesn’t confront you.

➥ he’ll ask soap for some help on what to do and the damn idiot just goes ‘[c/n] probably has a crush on you’ so now gaz thinks you have a crush on him.

➥ i mean, he’s flattered, but also he has no idea who you are, so…

➥ he’s now even more awkward.

➥ so then he goes to price for help,

➥ and price is just a tinge more reasonable.

➥ price tells gaz that you’re probably just shadowing him because you see him as some sort of mentor, or maybe there was someone in your past that was similar to gaz and you followed them around as well.

➥ his reasoning doesn’t help all that much, because what the fuck is gaz supposed to do with that, but whatever.

➥ he really doesn’t know what to do about you, to be honest.

➥ after way too long, he asks you why you’re following him.

➥ and when you shrug or give an excuse as to why you’ve been trailing behind him ever since you’ve gotten here, he shrugs back and goes on with his day.

➥ doesn’t mind all that much, so yippee!!

➥ eventually, when you two get closer, he tells you that you can walk by his side instead of behind him.

—

Making Gaz your target was probably the best idea you’ve ever had.

He’s pretty quiet, doesn’t actively try to get you to go away, and best of all, he really just walks around and does any tasks he needs to. It’s oddly nice, just watching him do his work. He doesn’t talk to himself under his breath like Soap or Price does, and doesn’t do his work in complete silence like Ghost does. He’ll often hum to himself or whistle, a noise that’s quickly become weirdly comforting to you.

It’s kind of disappointing realizing you have to go off to training, honestly. Following Gaz around has quickly become the pinnacle of your day. Which sounds really sad now that you think of it, but who cares.

About a month of you following him later, he finally asks you why you’re following him. In the nicest way possible, of course.

“Is there a reason you’ve been following me around all month?”

When you shrug or give an excuse for your actions, he thinks about your words (or your wordless shrug) for a moment and mutters a quiet, “Alright, then,” and goes on with his day.

[five-rivers]

archetypical changes

@echoghost1 @ghostfox_fuyu

It started out small.  Small enough that, in retrospect, Danny was surprised he noticed at all.  But he did.  At least, he noticed enough to dismiss it as nothing important. 

It was just hair, after all.  Just hair, growing a bit too fast.  He knew that people did have different rates of hair growth naturally.  Like, beards especially could grow fast.  That’s why five o’clock shadow was a thing.  

Just hair.  

He wound a curl around finger, where it peeked out from under his left ear.  This fast…  He could probably brush it off.  Maybe it was an extension of his healing powers.  He’d just need to cut it more often, so he didn’t go to the barber too often.  Would that even be something people would notice?  

He’d noticed.  It was his body.  His hair.  

Would anyone else?

He ran a hand through it, sweeping it back, and went on with his life.  

“Hey, Jazz,” he said, a week later.  “Will you give me a haircut?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Jazz.  She turned from her desk and looked him over.  “It is getting long, but didn’t you just get a haircut?”

Danny shrugged.  “Does it matter?”

Jazz walked over to him and looked up and down the hallway.  “Is it a ghost thing?” she whispered.  

“No idea,” Danny said.  

Jazz sighed, as if it was his fault he was a freak of nature.  

Well.  It kind of was.  Still.  She didn't need to act like it.

“Come on, we'll do it in the bathroom. I'll get the broom, you find the scissors.”

They regrouped in the bathroom a few minutes later.  Jazz had picked up a chair as well. 

“Go ahead and sit down,” she said as she pulled a comb from a drawer.  She ran the comb through his hair.  

“I did brush my hair before,” said Danny, leaning back slightly and closing his eyes.  

“Sure,” said Jazz.  “Just checking.  How do you want this?”

“However it was before.  Just shorter than it is now.”

“Well… I’ll do my best.  But you know I’ve not done this before, right?”

“Yeah, but I can’t ask Mom or Dad, and I’m broke, so.  This is about it.  Unless I want to ask Sam, and I’m not ready to go goth.”

“Going ghost is enough for you, huh?”

“Pretty much.”

“Okay,” said Jazz with a sigh.  “Let’s do this.”

The scissors snipped cleanly through his hair, over and over, ticklish strands falling around his ears and shoulders.  Jazz didn’t get fancy.  She kept things relatively even and didn’t attempt fades or different lengths or anything like that.  The result was somewhat strange, but it was workable.  No one would think he had some kind of weird hair-growing… thing.  

Yeah.  He was totally killing this secret identity thing.  

Jazz ran a hand through his hair, shaking loose a few more cut strands.  “Your hair is really fluffy, you know that?”

“Thanks, Jazz,” said Danny.  

“Thank me by helping clean up.  Your hair got everywhere.”

“Guess that’s why barber shops use those weird little capes.”

“Yeah,” said Jazz.  

They cleaned up relatively quickly, and Danny spent the rest of the afternoon working on homework, secure in the knowledge that he had, once again, protected himself from discovery via stupid means, like supernaturally fast-growing hair.  He didn’t have the time for it to distract him from what was really important.  In this case, transformations of functions.  

Math.  What would he do without it?

Then, of course, he went to bed and fell asleep.  No one disturbed him that night, ghost or human, which only happened about half the time, even if it felt like he was being woken up every night, sometimes.  

He woke up and ran his hands through his hair.  It felt longer than it had yesterday when he went to bed, but not by a huge amount.  He might have to get Jazz to cut his hair once a week or more.  Maybe he’d just have to learn how to do it himself.  Ugh…

He went about his usual morning routine in his normal somnambulant state.  Clothing, shoes, on to the bathroom…  

His reflection blinked sleepily at him.  Yeah, his hair was a bit longer, but only by a few millimeters.  It wasn’t growing fast enough that anyone would notice over the course of a few days.

Dismissing the problem as one that wouldn’t truly become problematic for a few more days, he picked up his toothbrush and made a face at himself in the mirror.  

Then he froze.  

He leaned forward, over the sink, baring his teeth.  He poked at his canines with one finger.  Yep.  Yep, that was real.  That wasn’t a hallucination, even if it seemed like it should be.  

His upper canines had grown long and sharp overnight.  Their points descended until they almost touched his bottom gums.  He opened his mouth and discovered that it wasn’t just his upper canines, but his lower canines, too.  

His fingers roved over the rest of his teeth, searching for other changes.  He couldn’t find any.  That didn’t mean they weren’t there.  

He pulled off his shirt, then his pants.  He hadn’t noticed anything else while he was getting dressed, but he was so out of it in the mornings that his lack of noticing also didn’t mean anything.  

His skin… still pasty white, still lightly freckled.  His muscles seemed to move normally, but he wasn’t exactly an expert.  However…  He raised his hand to his side and slotted his fingers into the gaps between his ribs.  It hadn’t been like this before, had it?  He slid his fingers back and forth, thinking.  It felt… oddly satisfying, but also very wrong.  His hips also seemed slimmer, bonier.  

He’d never had all that much fat, he took after his mother in that way, but he was pretty sure this was over and above that.  Something strange was happening to him.  

He put his shirt and pants back on and walked through the wall into Jazz’s room.  

“Holy– Knock first,” said Jazz, throwing the first thing she could grab at him.  Which was her pajama pants.  Ew.  “What’s wrong?”

“I have fangs now,” said Danny.  

“What?”

Danny opened his mouth as wide as he could to show her. 

 “What are you doing, I don’t want to see your uvula, that’s– Oh.”

Danny let his mouth close with a click.  “What am I supposed to do?”

“I’m–”  Jazz looked lost.  “I don’t know.  You can probably hide, um, teeth for school.  It’s not as if people are going to be looking in your mouth…  Are there any other changes?  Other than that and your hair?”

“Um,” said Danny.  “I– Maybe?”

“If it’s important enough that you broke into my room–”

“I didn’t break anything.”

“--then you’d better tell me.”

Danny felt himself blushing. “It’s– I think that I’ve lost a lot of weight.  Like, overnight.  I can see my ribs now.”

Jazz hissed through her teeth.  “That’s serious, Danny.  That’s a serious health thing.”

“More than the fangs?”

“Way more than the fangs.  I’ll call us out sick, and we can go visit your doctor friend.  What was his name?  Frostfight?”

“Frostbite,” corrected Danny.  “You’re really going to help me skip school?”

“For a health thing?” asked Jazz.  “Yeah.  You basically are sick.  Or, at least, there’s something strange going on with your body that we need to figure out sooner rather than later.  Now get out of here so I can get dressed.  Is it cold where Frostbite lives?”

“Freezing,” said Danny.  “Wear long underwear and layers.  Lots of layers.”

“Ugh.  I might as well wear my hazmat.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t be a bad idea,” said Danny.  “We are going into the Ghost Zone.”

Jazz sighed.  “Great, now, seriously, get out and get ready to go.  I’ll get you when I’m ready.”

Danny fled back through the walls and dropped himself onto his bed.  He waited, thoughts whirling.  What could possibly be making his hair grow faster, his weight drop, and his teeth turn into fangs?  Was this some kind of ghost disease?  Ghost puberty?  Some kind of weird curse?

Jazz knocked on his door not long after, and Danny leaped up, eager to get answers.  

“I called us out,” she said, then did a double take.  “Danny, your hair.”

He reached up and ran his hand over his head.  “It’s longer,” he said.  

“A lot longer,” said Jazz.  “Visibly longer.  I was only gone a few minutes.  It’s getting faster.  A lot faster.”

Danny forced a smile.  “Well, good thing we were already going to see Frostbite.”

Jazz hesitated, then nodded.  “I got Mom and Dad to run off to Elmerton.  Told them there was a ghost sighting over there.”

“So they won’t notice us being gone.  Smart.”

“I know I am,” said Jazz.  She smirked down at Danny, then winked.  “Come on, let’s go.”

Danny went ghost and floated next to her as she made her way down the stairs.  “How are you on piloting the Specter Speeder?”

“I’m, well,” she made a face.  “I haven’t gotten much of a chance.  I’ve gotten up to level three on the simulator.”

“You should be fine to fly it, then,” said Danny.  “It’s not like there’s a lot of stuff to run into– you’ll just go through it.  And there’s no time to learn like the present.”

“Don’t use my words against me,” said Jazz, scowling slightly.  Danny stuck his tongue out at her.  

They went down into the lab, and started going through the flight checks for the Specter Speeder.  

“I’ll fly ahead,” said Danny, clipping on a Fenton Fone.  “Check for danger and all.”

“Are you sure you’re up for that?”

“Yeah, I feel fine,” said Danny.  “Just… weird.”  He licked his teeth.  “Really weird.”

“Okay, go ahead.  I’ll finish up here in just a couple of minutes.”

Danny flew through the portal and did a few laps of the portal.  “Everything looks clear for you over here.”

“Okay,” said Jazz through the Fone.  “Check your Fenton Fone.  It’s skipping a lot of what you say.”

Danny grumbled but checked it.  It seemed fine.  He popped it back in.  “I think we’ll just have to deal with it,” said Danny.  

“Great,” said Jazz.  “Stand clear.”

The Specter Speeder slowly slid through the portal.  Once it was all the way through, Danny tapped his Fone again and waved at Jazz.  “Follow me,” he said.  “It’s a long way there.”

.

The Far Frozen was as cold as ever.  Danny landed in the snow, his hair falling down to the curve of his jaw, and sighed at the pleasant sensation.  Flying wasn’t difficult, per se.  It wasn’t like walking or running, it didn’t really use muscles, but it was tiring, and the Far Frozen was far.  

However… was he more tired than he normally would have been?  Or was this another symptom?

“Great One!” greeted Frostbite, jarring Danny from his spiraling introspection.  “What brings you here today?”

“Well,” said Danny, trying to get his thoughts together.  

“Health things,” said Jazz, climbing out of the Speeder.  “Oh, gosh, it really is cold out here.”

“I see,” said Frostbite, leaning closer to Danny.  “You do not appear injured.”

“It’s more like… body… changes,” explained Danny awkwardly.  He glanced sideways at the other yetis walking through the public space.  “Can we go in?”

“Of course,” said Frostbite.  He gestured Danny and Jazz onward and towards a well-lit cave.  “Medical is this way, as you might remember.”

“I… guess I don’t, really,” said Danny, following Frostbite.  “It’s sort of a blur.”

“Understandable.  You were quite unwell.”

Danny could feel Jazz glaring at the back of his head.  He decided to ignore that.  Problem for later, if she remembered.  The hair and teeth and weight loss were the problems now.

They reached the medical wing in short order, and Frostbite ushered him and Jazz into a smaller private room.  There was a counter and an examination bench and a few cabinets.  “So, what seems to be the problem?” he asked.  

Danny, with Jazz’s ‘help,’ explained.  

“Hm,” said Frostbite.  “There are a few things that could cause that, but I need to make some measurements before I could say which one is happening here.  Could you sit up here and take off your shirt?”

Danny flew up - it was a bit too high to just jump up - and pulled off his shirt.  Frostbite produced a stethoscope, and asked Danny to cough and hum.  He listened intently.  Danny listened, too.  Humming felt… odd, as if his chest were more hollow, as if the sound was brushing the very edge of his ghostly wail.

“And all this happened recently?” asked Frostbite, after a few minutes.

“Yeah.  I noticed the hair thing about a week ago?  Everything else seemed to just show up today.”

“I think I may know what is happening.”

“Is it a ghost puberty thing?” asked Danny, unsure if he should hope for that or not.  

“I suppose it could be considered analogous to puberty,” said Frostbite, bemused, “although puberty isn't something that typically happens to ghosts.  We don't age.  It's more along the lines of adapting to a role after a period of malleability.”

Jazz let out a little sigh.  “It's not something that will hurt Danny, then?”

“Unfortunately, I cannot say that for certain.  There are a great deal of potential complications, which may be made greater by your half-human status, and the archetype you seem to be settling into…”  

“What is it?” asked Danny.  

“The role you have taken upon yourself is that of a tutelary, a protective spirit.  You are developing a very thin, almost gaunt appearance, and your hair is growing rapidly.  Fangs tend to be nonspecific, common to many types of ghost, the same with minor changes to your nails and skin tone.  Your wail on the other hand…”

“I sort of felt it when I was humming, earlier,” volunteered Danny.  “That hasn't happened before.”

“There is only one group I know of that matches all those traits,” said Frostbite gravely.  “Here, in the Realms, they are called the Keeners, or the Mourners, or, on occasion, Those Who Mourn Before, for their predictive abilities.  In the human world, I believe the more famous of them became known as banshees.”

“I thought banshees were all women,” said Danny, feeling a little blank. 

“The famous ones are,” said Frostbite.

Danny wanted to know more about that, but shook his head and returned to the question at hand.  “What's dangerous about that, though?”  he certainly thought it sounded unpleasant and inconvenient to the whole ‘secret identity’ thing, but he could admit there was a difference between that and actively dangerous. 

“A banshee’s wail is supposed to kill people, isn't it?” interjected Jazz.  

“They do, on occasion,” said Frostbite.  “Especially when they are younger and have less control.”

“I've had my wail under control for ages, though,” protested Danny, shooting a glare at Jazz.  She gave him an apologetic shrug.  

“When I asked you to hum, earlier, didn’t you feel something different?  Something unusual?” asked Frostbite, kindly.  

Danny shrugged.  “Maybe.”

“This is a change,” said Frostbite.  “One that affects more than your physical appearance.  The powers associated with your archetype will change as well, including your wail, and those changes generally come with a loss of control, however temporary.  The typical precaution in these cases is to, ah, use a gag, until a community of banshees willing to train the new one can be contacted.”

“I, um.  I don’t suppose that’s something that I can do, like, overnight?”

“Not generally,” said Frostbite.  “There’s some overlap between banshees and ice-cored ghosts, more than there is for fire-cored ghosts, but it isn’t a great enough number for us to have regular contact.”

“That’s… I can’t… Great.  That’s.  What am I supposed to do with that?  I’ve got my whole town–  The ghosts– I can’t just up and leave.”

“Danny, you can’t go back if your wail could just randomly go off and, you know, ki–”

“I know that,” interrupted Danny, dropping his head into his hands.  He rubbed his face vigorously. 

“You may not have that particular addition to your wail,” said Frostbite.  “In fact, I would be rather surprised if you did.  You are, like I said, primarily a tutelary.  A protector.  Banshees from such backgrounds more typically have predictive or clairvoyant abilities.  They do not cause the deaths that follow their cry, they only are aware of them.”

“Well, I guess that’d just suck for me rather than everyone else.”  He could already feel his mental health taking a hit.  “But I’ll be good, I’ll stay here and do whatever precautions you want.  Play the silent game, sit in the middle of nowhere in the Zone, the gag thing, whatever.  You’d better come up with a good excuse for me, though.  I think Mom and Dad’ll get suspicious if they don’t see me for days or whatever.”

“I’ll do my best,” said Jazz.

“Is there anything else I should know about?” asked Danny.  “Like, am I going to spontaneously combust or grow a tail or what?”

Frostbite chuckled.  “Probably not.  But we should take some fittings for the sound-dampening gag…”

Danny sighed.  “I really don’t want to wear a gag.”

“It will be temporary,” said Frostbite, “to prevent accidents before you can have proper training.”

Danny wrinkled his nose.  “That sounds wrong.”

“How so?” asked Frostbite.  

“Don’t want to talk about it.”  He fell back to lay down on the examination table.  

Frostbite patted his shoulder.  “It will be fine, Great One,” he said.  “Almost everyone goes through this eventually.  And while you’re here, I can give you more details about what other kinds of changes you can expect going forward.  I have simplified a good deal, after all.”

“Oh my gosh, it is just like puberty,” said Danny.  

“Are you sure you’ll be okay without me?” asked Jazz.  

“I’m more worried about you flying back.”

“We can give your sister an escort,” said Frostbite.  “If Miss Jasmine is alright with that.”

Danny removed his hands from his face to stare Jazz into taking the escort. 

“Alright,” said Jazz.  “If it won’t put you out.”  She walked over to Danny.  “And if you are sure you don’t need me.”

“I’m sure.  We can’t both be gone for who knows how long.”

She sighed and patted his shoulder.  “It’s going to be okay.”

“I know,” said Danny.  “I’m just going to complain about it the whole time.”

“As is your right.  I know I wasn’t too happy when it started happening to me.  I wasn’t always as handsome as I am now, you know.”Danny sat up.  “Okay, now, I’ve got to hear that story.”

[write4tomorrow]

Imagine Hangman Being Caught Leaving Your Room

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Request: Could you write a cute oneshot of hangman x reader where the team catch him coming out of her room one morning after they went home together and they all think they had sex, Hangman plays into it because he doesn't want to admit they were watching cringey reality tv shows all night and the team finds out they have actually been dating for like 6 years? Thank you <3

Genre: Adventure / Fluff

Maybe Rooster had over done it at The Hard Deck tonight. He was feeling that last drink and was vaguely aware that he’d probably regret it in the morning.

Normally, he turned in early and would leave his fellow pilots at The Hard Deck to get a good night’s rest. But tonight they were celebrating. Rooster, Phoenix and Bob were able to successfully shoot Warlock down during a practice dogfight today. The other pilots had cheered for the trio when they landed earlier that afternoon. Rooster smiled as he remembered the triumphant high five you gave him. The best part was seeing Hangman’s nod of approval. 

Now, as he walked back to his room, Rooster smiled at Phoenix and Bob. The three of them were the last to leave The Hard Deck that night and they remained quiet as they walked toward the Top Gun dormitories. 

A small handful of pilots were recalled back to Top Gun for a brief detachment that no one was worried about. It would only be a week of training before the mission, so Rooster told himself that he would try and enjoy every moment of his friends’ time. It wouldn’t be long before everyone was shipped back to different corners of the world. 

From down the hall, Rooster heard someone cursing. Judging by the way Phoenix and Bob straightened, they also heard it. The group tiptoed down the hall until they could poke their face around the corner. The dim lights cast eerie shadows along the hallway of doors. Rooster didn’t have time to think about the creepy hallways, though. Instad, his attention was immediately pulled to Hangman, who was leaning on the doorway of your room. 

Hangman was speaking in a near whisper to someone inside the room, Rooster could only assume it was you. Rooster was suspicious by Hangman's loose pair of pants and a casual shirt. Maybe they were pj’s, but Rooster was more interested in the way Hangman was holding his bicep, a small scowl on the arrogant pilot’s face. Rooster guessed that he had been the one to curse just a moment ago. Had Hangman tried to worm his way into your room? Did you punch him for it? Rooster wished he could have been a fly on the wall to watch Hangman attempt to seduce you. Rooster would have punched Hangman, too.

Sure, you and Hangman were close but the endless teasing between the two of you hardly counted as flirting. If anything, Hangman would flirt with you but you would only toss insults back at him. It was one of the reasons Rooster liked you: the only person that could keep Hangman’s ego in check was you. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t-” Bob began, but Phoenix shot him a glare that could only mean “shut up”. 

Rooster rolled his eyes as he saw Hangman flash his award winning smile. You stepped out into the hall, your chest nearly flush against Hangman’s and Rooster waited for you to tell the pilot to politely fuck off. But Rooster almost fell over when he saw you grab a fistfull of Hangman’s shirt and pull him in for a kiss. With too much familiarity for Rooster’s comfort, Hangman wrapped an arm around your waist and his other hand slid into your hair. 

The kiss was over as soon as it began. You pulled away and pushed Hangman toward his own room. Hangman winked over his shoulder at you before you shut your own door.

The feeling of whiplash was beginning to settle over Rooster. Phoenix waited until Hangman’s door was closed before breaking the silence. 

“I must be dreaming,” she muttered. 

“I know I’m drunk…” Rooster said, running a hand over his face, “but I’m not that drunk.” 

The hangover that Rooster had the next morning was nothing compared to the confusion he felt while watching you and Hangman. He found himself reading into every little inside joke the two of you shared or the way you two would argue with one another. And Rooster knew he wasn’t the only one. Phoenix had her eyes laser focused on you while you traded snide remarks with Hangman. 

The two of you sat next to one another nearly every day. This morning was no exception. Rooster assumed that you two were friendly because you were stationed together. Being near one another for a couple of years could do that to a pair, despite one of them was as insufferable as Lieutenant Jake Seresin. But even being stuck on a remote island with Hangman wouldn’t lead to… what was this? Romance? A crush?

“They touched hands during Warlock’s lecture,” Phoenix whispered over lunch. Rooster and Bob leaned in and tried to talk between bites. 

“They didn’t touch hands,” Rooster answered, “she punched him.”

“Well what about-”

“-when Hangman fixed her flight uniform?” Rooster finished for Phoenix. She nodded, a grin on her face. 

“They were just being friendly,” Bob said, rolling his eyes. “They’re not doing anything illegal. What if they just… I don’t know… what if we don’t know what we saw?” Bob looked between Phoenix and Rooster. No one notice you or Hangman approach.

“What did you see,” you asked sweetly. Phoenix and Rooster nearly jumped out of their skin when you took a seat at their lunch table. Hangman took a seat next to you and the two of you looked around at the table. Bob looked down at his food. 

“Is everything okay?” You didn’t know what was happening but you knew enough to tell that something was happening. 

“Do you fly this afternoon?” Bob asked, finally breaking the silence. 

“Yep,” you answered, “I’m going up with Fanboy and Coyote.” 

The rest of the lunch passed amicably. However, that didn’t stop you from catching strange glances from your friends. You couldn’t tell if Hangman noticed, but you tried to push the thought out of your mind. You told yourself that you should focus on the coming dogfight. 

Hangman also notice that the others were acting strange but he chose to bring it up later. He didn’t want to distract you from your job. And Hangman knew that your head would be stuck on the coming dogfight. You didn’t need any drama.

But after lunch, you said goodbye to everyone and left for the tarmac. Coyote and Fanboy laughed with you as you strolled down the hallway. Hangman smiled at the sound. He knew that Coyote and Fanboy had your back.

Hangman left the lunch room and made a few jokes with some of his fellow pilots as they all walked to the rec room. Rooster, Phoenix, and Bob were walking with him and were good company.

Passively, the group listened to your dogfight over the radio while Rooster and Bob played a game of foo’s ball. Bob was losing, but Hangman and Phoenix cheered him on. Even with one ear on the radio, Hangman was able to give Bob a couple of tips. 

“Hangman, I thought you were on my side!” Rooster said as he almost let Bob score a point. 

“Since, uh, when?” Hangman crossed his arms and smiled at Rooster. It was enough of a distraction for Bob to score a point. Hangman gave Bob a high five and Phoenix clapped. 

“You’re off your game today, Rooster,” Hangman said with too much glee, “in fact you’ve been acting weird all day.”

“What do you mean?” Rooster looked up, meeting Hangman’s eyes. 

“Did they put something in the water yesterday at The Hard Deck?” Hangman looked between Rooster, Phoenix, and Bob. “Because the three of you have been… off all day.” 

“We’re fine,” Rooster said with a shrug. His eyes slid to the floor and Hangman scoffed at them. Phoenix and Bob exchanged a look and Hangman almost laughed at how guilty the group seemed. 

“What is it?” Hangman was distantly aware of your dogfight coming to an end. He heard the missile lock tone beep over the radio and he heard you and Coyote begin the landing procedure. Hangman threw his hands up at the ridiculous silence the group was giving him. Not even Rooster was rising to the challenge. 

“Do you have a thing for y/n?” Phoenix said, her words coming out too fast. Rooster’s head shot up and Bob pressed his lips into a tight line. Hangman blinked at Phoenix. Some of the other pilots in the rec room turned their attention towards the group. Hangman let out a laugh. 

“Y/n?” Hangman looked around at the people that were listening. “I mean, she’s fine, she’s cute, I think-”

“Are you blushing, Bagman?” Rooster interrupted. A smile widened on Rooster’s face as Hangman spluttered to silence. The blonde pilot ran a hand through his hair.

“No,” Hangman finally said, “I mean, I do like her. But I’m not going to do anything about it.” Hangman set his jaw and looked at Rooster, who had the biggest smile on his face. 

“Oh, but Hangman,” Phoenix said with false sweetness, “what were you doing by y/n’s room last night if you’re not going to do anything about it.” Rooster wanted to laugh when he saw Hangman’s face pale. The arrogant pilot froze where he stood, eyes locked with Phoenix’s. Phoenix, like Rooster, was grinning like a mad woman. 

“You calling me a liar?” Hangman said, a corner of his lips turning up. He heard footsteps down the hall and knew he needed to make a decision before you came back. 

“I wasn’t that drunk last night,” Rooster added, “I know what I saw. Are you trying to tell me it was someone else outside of y/n’s room last night?” 

“I mean,” Hangman said slowly, “I was safe in my room all night.” As if Hangman planned it, you strolled into the room, followed by Coyote and Fanboy. The three of you still wore your flight suits and smelled like sweat and oil. You took one look at everyone in the room and knew something was happening. 

“But if there was someone outside of her room last night,” Hangman said, standing beside you, “I’d have to show him who she belongs to.” Rooster’s mouth fell open as he watched Hangman wrap a large hand around your throat. He used his thumb to tilt your head toward his and planted a swaying kiss against your lips. 

After a shocked moment of silence, Coyote let out a whistle. Hangman pulled back from you and Rooster could see the blush on both you and Hangman. 

“They know,” Hangman said to you before you could say anything. 

“Did Bob tell them?” You turned your head toward Bob who mutely opened and closed his mouth as he fished for words. Phoenix punched Bob’s arm. 

“You knew?!” She glared at Bob who rubbed his sore arm. 

“I mean, I saw them once-” Bob tried to explain before Phoenix tried to punch him again. The room erupted in gossip and accusations. You and Hangman stayed quiet as the others talked over one another. 

“Just wait until they find out how long we’ve been together,” Hangman said, his lips against your ear. Your toes curled and you leaned into him. You kissed him again and enjoyed the chaos around the room. It felt good to kiss him so openly. 

"Wait until I tell them you're addicted to watching Love is Blind." You raised an eyebrow at Hangman.

"We can finish the season tonight, right," Hangman asked without shame. You rolled your eyes.

"As long as we aren't up as late as we were last night," you said. Hangman only laughed and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Maybe it was good that the others finally knew.

A/N: thank you for reading this little one shot! It took a little longer than I thought to get this one out.

Thank you, @barbiegirlbaby for the request!

[tadpolesonalgae]

Azriel x reader: Peaches[*]

A/N: I have a request for some soft!dom Azriel in my inbox, so I’m kind of using this as a little bit of a practice run :)

Warnings: ass-eating and rimjob (m receiving), some light wing play, Az being a little mean in the beginning then softening out, slightly more sub!Az at the end

Word Count: 2,518

You can just imagine how good he would feel in your hands. And with the way he’s walking up the stairs, the plump and toned muscle of his ass wrapped up tight in leathers…

His wings twitch, shadows undulating and he stops at the top of the stairs, turning to look at you over his shoulder, two plates of food in his hands, leaving you to carry the drinks. “I can feel your eyes on me, you know,” he remarks with a raised brow. You flush, having been caught.

“Oops,” you say, grinning as you walk past him, “guess my gaze slipped.” He snorts, shadows pinching your ass as you strut by, making you yelp. You shoot him a glare over your shoulder, wishing you had a free hand to rub the sore skin. He gives you a panty-dropping grin, pissing you off just enough to have you kicking the door shut on him once you get in your bedroom.

He chuckles from the other side, shadows reopening the door while you set the glasses down. “Someone in a poor mood because she got caught eyeing me up?” He drawls, the smirk clear in his voice.

“I was not eyeing you up!” You snap, crossing your arms over your chest in a way that plumps your tits. His attention drops appreciatively, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. When his eyes return to yours, they’re a little darker, and you know he marks the roll of your throat.

“Please,” he purrs, setting the plates down on the bedside table. “You were looking at me like how Cassian looks at beef jerky.” His grin turns a little feral, “like you wanted to sink your teeth into me.” Heat blossoms across your lower body as he pin points the exact intent with which you had been staring at him.

Still, you raise your chin, looking down your nose at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

————

You know you’ve been staring at his ass all day.

How could you not? It’s so plump, and—and round, and…you’re actually salivating.

He hasn’t been giving you a break, wearing those leathers first thing in the morning until the last thing at night. He has to know what it does to you. Which means, he’s teasing you. You grown inwardly, knowing how your mate can be when it comes to denying your wants for his own pleasure. He’s probably enjoying this opportunity to get back at you for that one time, and the objective side of your mind knows it’s well-deserved. Still.

“What’s going on in that dumb, little mind of yours, pet?”

Arousal slams into you, knees nearly buckling at the rough timbre of his voice. You manage to keep yourself strong, refusing to allow that whimper to slip from your lips. “Where did you sneak up from?” You ask, and even to your own ears, you sound a little hoarse. His lips twitch, pressing his front into your back as he tips your chin upward, so he can look down at you properly. His hand practically swallows your throat, just holding, lightly.

“I thought I’d check in on my wife,” he drawls, and you feel the male satisfaction as the title slips smoothly from his tongue. His wife. He’d been just as obnoxious when the two of you had accepted the mating bond, calling you nothing but his mate for months on end. “See how she’s faring with these miserable chores that her miserable husband is forcing her to do.” His eyes gleam as your spine arches almost imperceptibly, his hips pushing tighter into your rear.

“He is quite miserable, isn’t he?” You murmur back. “Always denying me my fun.”

Azriel’s hands settle at your waist, spinning you around so you’re attention is fully on him—not the cleaned laundry you were folding. “And what fun are you after, wife?” He asks, hands grazing up the sides of your body until he’s cupping your cheeks, squishing them ever so lightly.

Warmth flushes your skin, but you lean into him. Your eyes flutter shut, his heat seeping into you as you allow your fingers to brush his forearms, travelling to his biceps, settling on the muscled edge of his ribs before grazing down. Your hands move over his waist, snaking around his back, descending past his hips, and—

You yelp when shadows bat your hands away, so close to finally, finally feeling him. Your eyes fly open, immediately locking on his own heated gaze, colour dusting his cheeks, canines digging into his lower lip as he watches you with an intensity that makes your legs want to fall open.

“Has no one ever taught you manners, pet?” He asks, hand sliding down to your waist while the other tilts your jaw upwards. “Ask before you touch.”

“I need permission to touch what’s mine?” You retort quietly, hunger blazing in the pit of your belly. You can scent his own arousal grow in response, grip biting into your soft skin.

His grin turns feline as he drags you closer to him, mouth brushing over your own, forcing you up onto your tiptoes, “you want more than just to touch, though, don’t you?”

————

You’re so worn out. So tired, and so ready for bed.

Between Azriel’s teasing, your job, and your own damned mind, you think you might be going crazy. The few dreams you’ve managed to keep with waking from sleep have consisted mostly of fruits…phallic and…peachy. He would never let you live it down if he knew even your subconscious was goading you to him.

You think your knees might actually collapse when you make it to your shared bedroom.

He’s sprawled across the mattress, a thin sheet covering his lower half, wings splayed gorgeously over the bed. His hair’s slightly damp, curled at the ends from the shower, and his skin looks warm, and healthy, and delicious. Marvellously firm with muscle.

Azriel doesn’t look up from the book he’s reading as your bags drop to the floor and you make a soft sound of disbelief and hunger in the back of your throat. And then you’re clumsily stumbling forward, crawling onto the bed, easing yourself between his sheet-covered legs. Falling onto your front, pressing yourself onto his ass like it’s the comfiest pillow you’ve ever come across.

It’s only then he shifts, peering over his shoulder, and you can practically imagine the smug grin on his lovely mouth seeing you finally give in. You suppose it’s not like you made a secret of your desire, but still…

Arousal builds across your body, hunger finally breaking you as you lift, prowling up his figure. He looks like he’s about to get up, so you swing your legs over his hips, keeping him pinned to the mattress. You know he could easily lift you with him, but he settles back down, a sound like a purr rumbling from his chest.

“You’re being rather dominant, wife,” he drawls, shifting so he’s comfy. You snarl softly, fed up with his teasing, setting your hands between his shoulder blades, then running them lightly to the base of one of his wings. His muscles shift and contract beneath you, rippling as your fingers skate up lightly.

The tension seeps from him as you reach the dip beneath the first joint of the powerful limb. His skin heats and a quiet groan spills from his lips, needful and soft. It’s so rare something like this happens, but it seems he’s had a long day, too, and is ready to be taken care of. You couldn’t be more relieved. Dread to think how things would have gone if he’d had the energy or the will to deny you any longer. He seems to get off of refusing your pleasure, sometimes.

You shift closer, so you’re straddling his upper back, rolling your hips down languidly from time to time, basking in the slow build of warmth. Slow, because you both have the time to indulge. Slow, because you’re in no rush. Slow, because you have all the time in the world and right now, you want it with each other. To find pleasure in the other’s body.

Leaning forward, you attach your open mouth to the ridge of his wing and he shudders, a deep, drawn-out moan purring into the silence. The sound urges your hips to roll down a little harder, basking in the delicious and firm press of hot muscle beneath you. Teeth nip, and your fingers graze those spots you’ve had memorised since the first time he’d allowed you the pleasure of touching him like that. It’s rare enough he lets you look after him, rarer still he accepts direct comfort to his wings.

You’re not sure how comfortable he is with that vulnerability. You’re mated, married, and joined in every way that counts, but you’re not going to pretend that you share absolutely everything with one another. There are still times the two of you will just sit in silence, mentally recovering from whatever trials have gotten you down that day. Plenty of times where you’ll spend a few hours apart, just to get out of the house. And it’s wonderful that way. To be comfortable enough to trust and know someone will to come back to you even after you’ve put a line in the sand…

Your tongue flicks out, dragging up the dip of bone, grazing over the powerful muscle that flexes beneath your tongue. His breath catches softly, and you pull away. Groans roughly as he falls away from the edge, but doesn’t fight for it, content to enjoy the edge.

Pulling back, you brush your thumb once more over the sensitive skin of his wing, and a sharp breath exhales from his lips. You shuffle down his body, pushing away the sheets as you go, leaving him entirely bare for you. It takes every ounce of willpower he’s instilled in you over the years to keep from pushing his legs apart right then and there and moving your mouth to your pleasure—hopefully his, too.

Instead, you tap his hip twice, lightly, then grip his side, urging him to roll over. He sighs, but turns obediently, knowing it will benefit him in the long run, wings pulling in tight as he switches onto his back. Then your mouth is opening over him, tongue flicking over the bead of moisture nestled in the slit of his tip.

Azriel moans softly, back arching as colour dusts his cheeks, fingers gently threading through your hair, raising his hips. You press a kiss to his tip, licking up the underside of him, watching as his eyes flutter closed and those quiet sounds of pleasure start becoming more regular.

He tugs lightly on your hair, and you take him into your mouth, hand gripping his base as you pump what you can’t fit. He hisses with pleasure, brow furrowing then evening out as he rolls his hips upward, gasping softly when your throat contracts around him. Again, you pull up to his tip, hand stroking him firmly but not roughly—not this time. You flick your tongue once again over his slit, pressing another kiss down, before you’re urging his bent legs further apart.

A slightly startled moan slips from his lip as you press your mouth low on his inner thigh, working closer to where you want to please him from—giving him the chance to stop you if he doesn’t yet want to try it. But his skin is warm and clean, smelling distinctly of soap and himself, and your mouth is watering.

His spine arches as your tongue circles the tight ring of muscle, flicking over then pulling away to kiss the surrounding area. His hand has released your hair in favour of the bedsheets, fingers gripping hard as you continue pumping him. He twitches, and you pull up, giving more attention to his cock.

Azriel’s shadows have joined you, grazing over his inner wing with silky softness, helping you work him to the steadily budding orgasm that will leave him hot and trembling. The darkness flicks over his gleaming chest, swirling over his nipples, making him pant. His eyes are still closed, plush lower lip caught between his teeth and you again dip down, pleased with his reactions.

You circle the tight muscle again, pumping a little harder, moving in time with the gentle roll of his hips. Your tongue pushes inside, and you hear him inhale sharply, bucking into your hand. He’s close, and now that you’ve again gotten him to the edge, you can’t bring yourself to deny him.

How could you, knowing he’s receiving pleasure everywhere he can be? In all those intimate, sensitive areas?

Your tongue flicks over him again as you squeeze him deliciously, just the right side of painful. His shadows flick and swirl, and a deep, rich moan is pulled from between his lips, spine arching enough to tip his head back into the plush pillows. He twitches again before he releases, hips bucking in time with the waves of pleasure, hot cum spilling from his tip, spurting up onto the firm planes of his toned stomach. You keep pumping until his hips begin stuttering, and then you’re easing your pace, softening your grip as he becomes infinitely more sensitive.

When he’s done, thighs trembling, panting softly into the sex-tinted air, you raise from between his legs. Lick your lips when you see the mess he’s made of himself: hot, milky liquid gleaming on the sweat-slicked muscles of his stomach, shifting and glistening in the light with his breathing. The perfect dessert.

You crawl forward slowly, careful not to ruffle him too much, tongue lolling out as you begin lapping up the creamy liquid. His hand again finds your hair, stroking gently as you hum, drinking him up. It’s only when you’re certain you’ve licked up every drop of him that you prowl up his body, until you’re on top of him.

He’s still flushed, and offers you a lazy smile that sings songs of his satisfaction. “And here I had just gotten out of my shower,” he murmurs over your up-tilted lips. You smile gently, enjoying him being the one fully naked, for once, “I’ll change the covers tomorrow, husband.”

Azriel smiles up at you, lifting his head from the pillows as he brings your mouth down to his own, soft lips slanting over your own, tasting himself on you. He groans quietly, shadows and fingers already working deftly to remove your clothes. As soon as they’re gone, and you’re gloriously bare, he’s pulling you down on him, hot skin pressing flush together.

His shadows hook beneath the sheets, pulling them up and to cover once his wings have curled over you, keeping you tucked into his chest. The heat and warmth quickly lulls you to sleep, the two of you pulled under in a matter of minutes. Breathing deepening and evening out as you fall together, wrapped in each other’s scent and warmth.

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming

[valeriele3]

Have another TWST and Enstars crossover (kinda)

Dorm Leaders + Jamil

Your friends remind you of another friend from back home

Riddle:

“Hey Riddle, I just noticed..You look a lot like a friend from back home”

“I do..?”

“Mhm! His name is Tsukasa Suou! He looks almost exactly like you! Except his eyes are a different color and he doesn’t have your uh heart ahoge”

“I see..Tell me, is he a follower of rules?”

“Uhm..I guess? I mean he is a knight so..”

Leona:

“Y’know..You forcing me to let you sleep on my lap reminds me of someone dear to me back in my world..”

“…”

“You remind me a lot of Ritsu. He’s very veryyy dear to me..He would basically sleep 24/7 and whenever he saw me he would force me to sleep and cuddle with him. If not that then he’ll use me as a pillow”

“Huh? H-Hey Leona where’re you going??”

Leona leaving you because he’s jealous about this Ritsu and it put him in a bad mood(Leona’s annoyed lol)

Azul:

“Sigh..You and Ibara would get along nicely”

“Who?”

“A businessman who also likes to suck up to people”

Kalim:

“Hey Kalim, thank you..”

“Hm? For what?”

“For making me feel at home..You too Jamil”

“Eh?” (He was secretly hiding in the shadows)

“Oh! Jamil! You were here the whole time?!”

“..No comment on that”

“Anyways, what’d you mean “thank you?””

“You guys just remind me a lot of two of my friends back home..”

“Their names are Subaru Akehoshi and Hokuto Hidaka”

“Kalim’s energy and personality is just like Subaru and Jamil’s demeanor reminds me of Hokuto”

“Especially because of how you always take care of Kalim..It’s just like how Hokuto keeps Subaru in check..Well, as best as he can at least since Subaru can just somehow rope you into his problems—”

Vil:

“Sigh..I get it..! Please stop nagging me so much Vil”

“Hah? Nagging you? I’m just telling you to take better care of yourself”

“I swear it’s like Izumi came here with me..Sigh..”

“And who is this Izumi you speak of?”

“A friend although he feels more like a mom for always nagging me to take better care of myself..Or more specifically my skin”

“Now that I think about it, you guys would get along so well because of your obsession with looking good or somethin’..”

“Seems like a person who understands the importance of beauty. And, fix your way of speaking! It’s ‘something’ not ‘somethin’.

“It looks like Epel has been influencing you in a bad way. You aren’t allowed to see him anymore”

“Wha— Hey! You can’t do that!”

“I’m afraid I can darling”

Idia:

“Idia~ Come..Hang..Outtt with me..!” (You’re trying to drag him out of his room)

[Insert Panicked scream] “No! I don’t wanna..!”

“Staying inside 24/7 is bad for you! You need to get under the sun at least once in a while..!” (Don’t worry Idia I’m like that irl)

[Insert a picture of you trying to drag Idia out and him desperately hanging onto his bed]

“Oh!” [Accidentally drops Idia on the ground]

“If you don’t want to go outside that bad then..How about this? You can just use the vents to travel from place to place!”

“Huh..? W-What gave you that crazy idea..”

“Hm? Don’t worry it’s probably safe! A close friend of mine likes to travel around the place using the vents!”

“He even uses the vents in my room to spy on me every night” You wholeheartedly smile and laugh at the thought like it isn’t weird at all

‘What the heckkkk..That’s a different kind of weird..! That’s straight up creepy’ Idia is going a thousand miles a minute inside his mind right now

“C’mon..! You can be like Mayoi!”

“Is that what that creeps name is..?” Idia whispers to himself but you still heard it

“HAH?! DID YOU JUST CALL MAYOI A CREEP?! 💢💢”

[Insert Idia’s scream again] “N-NO! I DIDNT..!”

“Good” :))

“Now let’s go! Let us brave through this storm called life!”

Malleus:

“Heheh..I have a feeling you’ll get along well with a friend of mine back home Tsunotaro!”

“Oh?”

“I’m sure Nagisa would love to talk to you someday..! Maybe when I get back home I’ll introduce you to him”

“I see. Well if the child of man says so then I mustn’t refuse”

Malleus is thinking that maybe if he gains Nagisa’s favor Nagisa will allow you to date him. After all it’s good to have points from your close ones right? And if you mentioned this Nagisa then surely that person is close to you

Sorry about the other’s parts like Azul and Idia I couldn’t really think what to write for their part

[brainworms-all-night-long]

Hey what if I made a completely nonsensical and maybe overly edgy imaginary one-shot that I got the idea for on my way to the fridge for a snack a few hours ago?

[~1000 words]

––

"It's over Nine"

Sonic said exasperated after he bounced back from his last successful hit on the fox.

Said fox gave one hell of a fight in person and the neverending metal army of robo-copies Sonic had to get though first — that now his friends manage to regulate — didn't help either.

Shadow did warn him of Nine's possible goal but he was careful, just this once. He promised so with a cheeky wink and a smile, while any of its potential effect bounced right off Shadow's unimpressed face, after all!

Besides he was the one who caused this mess because what's new at this point, and he planned on fixing it.

He tried talking, oh boy he did, but Nine wasn't budging no matter the angle Sonic approached the conversation with, so he wasn't left with a different choice.

As much as he wasn't a fan, he had to beat the sense into the fox.

He ignored the stinging pain on the back of his hands and heels (which had kind of intensified since he set foot on this platform, probably his body finally registering the damage he suffered with all the punching and kicking robots today) and he stood up tall waiting for Nine to uncurl from his beaten position.

It sent the smallest pang of guilt into Sonic's heart as he realized just how small the fox appeared when like that, with all of his tech mangled and damadged righ beside him, but he shook his head right after, dispersing any thoughts of sympathy for a few seconds more. Yes Nine was his friend but he was also kinda ripping the Shatterverse apart and risking thousands of lives along with Sonic's chance to fix everything, and he wasn't gonna let that fly, the kit needed a vibe check.

Nine barely moved aside from his heavy breathing for a long while until Sonic heard a quiet click and and similar in volume chuckle.

"You're right it is."

Before Sonic could place the meaning of Nine's muffled answer or take a defensive stance, both his hands and feet were on fire and rest of his body grew weaker by the millisecond with no further warning.

"I would be lying if I said you weren't painfully predictable"

Glancing from Nine who was now the one standing over him, to his hands through the sudden blur of agony and effort to keep any stray scream in his mouth, all he saw was a wild flicker of colors.

Ah, so those random sparks and color changes of his inhibitors since he got to the Grim was something to worry about after all.

Between all the action and robot beating he barely paid attention to them. They were functioning flawlessly and the same since he got them, even after the unnecessary scruffle he got into with Shadow over them, so why would they malfunction now of all times–

Oh.

Of course, the inhibitors were Nine's tech, should've guessed they'd be used against him sooner or later. Sonic kinda needed those to get around after all, and what's the best way to catch a supersonic hedgehog? By making him unable to run of course!

Still, while now, in retrospect, he really really should've seen it coming, and oh boy he already heard the earful Shadow was about to give him, his current situation was not good.

It was not good at all as he felt the inhibitors being removed from his gloves and shoes, not ideal when he was grabbed by the arm and forcibly made to stand back up, not great as he didn't know which way was north while his head spun, and even worse once he finally somewhat focused his eyes on Nine's face that was now in front of him — or well, slightly under him, Nine was a bit on the short side when not threateningly standing up on his now decommissioned metal tails — that all the prevalent pain got overshadowed by a small shiver of dread running down his spine.

"That would be everything I needed from you, friend."

Sonic tried to make a rebuttal, a plea, a question, anything at this point, (and he did not like the calm tone of Nine's voice at all) but all of his words were stuck in his throat along the contents of his long empty stomach as he followed Nine's 'I won' gaze falling behind him, onto the vast orange ground bellow him. Far too bellow him.

Now, he wasn't scared of heights by any means, he usually seeked hem out just for the beautiful landscape view when out on his travels actually, but this wasn't it, not it at all. Especially since he felt barely in control of his own breathing.

"Since you're so reliant on your friends let's see who'll actually catch you on your trust fall eh?"

And with that, Sonic's already poor balance was pushed over the edge of the platform and his body was sent barreling down to the copper sand below.

He should curl up and bounce off, yea that would be the most sensible thing to do. There were more than enough jagged edges of the tower to land onto and slow down his fall (honestly surprising he hasn't hit any of them yet), but his body seemingly fell asleep on him and refused to cooperate with any of the urgency for moving and not being splattered on the ground like a blue pancake!

Gradually he felt the rushing wind around him rip away his consciousness as shades of blue and purple only blurred together until it all became pitch black. But before all of his senses gave out, he hit something that changed his falling direction abruptly and was way too soft and gentle to be the Grim's battle-ridden sands.

[grailfinders]

Grailfinders #338: Taisui Xingjun

if I can say one nice thing about taisui xingjun, it’s that lasengle went out of their way to make him feel very cursed. sometimes waiting for a servant to pop up in their event gives you cool new abilities to work with that aren’t part of their in-game kit, and sometimes they show up at the last second, throw out a vague party buff on for the last fight, and then fall asleep immediately. this time’s the second one.

thankfully, taisui’s not all that difficult a build, at least on the surface. he’s a Divine Soul Sorcerer, and that’s it! though to be fair, that class alone is really kind of mashing together two classes as-is, so he’s still not that simple.

check out his build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

next up: make sure to like, comment, subscribe, and turn on notifications to see this build first!

Ancestry & Background

if we were being more objective taisui’d probably be a custom lineage, but it’s our build and I want him to be able to turn into his big form at will, so he’s a Changeling. with that, he gets proficiency in performance and persuasion, and his plastic presentation makes him a Shapechanger as well, so he can turn into any small or medium race as long as they have the same number of limbs, and you can’t turn into anyone specific without having seen them first. on top of all that, you get bonuses of +2 Charisma and +1 Dexterity.

finally, your background. you literally just sit there the whole event until like three deus ex machinas pile on top of each other to summon you into a vaguely human body, so that sounds like the Book of Many Things’ new background, the Rewarded, to me. that nets you proficiency in Insight and Animal Handling, as well as the Lucky feat for literally free. why anyone would ever pick a different background ever again, I don’t know, but now you get three luck points a day, and you can spend them forcing a reroll on any d20 roll directly affecting you and pick the better option of the two. whomst’d’ve the fuck thought putting that on a background was balanced.

Ability Scores

your highest score is your Charisma, because you’re basically skating by on your good looks and hoping that’s enough to make people farm the ungodly number of Cons needed for all your ascensions and NP levels. it is, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it. second highest is your CON. yep, there’s a buncha them in there. third is Dexterity, because you don’t wear armor. like, at all. honestly this should probably be lower considering how easily you get eaten, but I’m trying to make a build that’ll survive level 1. after that comes your Intelligence, because the Con are quick studies at least when it comes to construction and video games, so they’re at least a little above average. that means your Strength is nothing to write home about- you’re a god, but you’re a kid, and your arms are kind of noodly. finally, we’re dumping Wisdom. as the Con you’re easily swayed, and as a god your tired ass isn’t helping anyone on watch duty.

Class Levels

1. as mentioned before, you’re a Divine Soul Sorcerer, which gives you Spells you cast using your Charisma. before we go into those, you also get Divine Magic, letting you pick spells from the cleric spell list as well as the sorcerer’s. you also get Inflict Wounds for free for your spooky shadow hands. I know taisui is technically true neutral, but his god form’s a god of curses and retribution, so I’m saying at the very least his powers are evil-leaning. speaking of, you’re Favored by the Gods, so if you fail a save or attack, you can add 2d4 to it once a short rest. whether being favored by this god is a good thing or not is anyone’s guess.

so then, spells! for cantrips, Blade Ward will keep your body in once piece for now, Morgan worked hard on that, while Chill Touch is another kind of spooky hand that prevents people from healing, which is pretty cursed in my book. you can also whip out your bell and Toll the Dead, dealing extra damage to injured targets, your you can curse someone with an Infestation, forcing them to move in a random direction if they fail a constitution save.

for leveled spells, Bane is a light cursing for a first level spell, forcing up to three creatures to make a charisma save. if they fail, every attack or save made for up to a minute gets a d4 taken away from it. we’re also giving you Mage Armor for +3 AC because we’re not that sadistic. even if taisui is.

oh, speaking of saves, you have proficiency in Constitution and Charisma saves, as well as Arcana and Religion. you kind of are a god, after all.

2. second level sorcerers become a font of magic! rn that just means u can cast another first level spell every day, like your new one, earth tremor! most of you is still down there, after all, just twitch a lil.

3. congrats! you survived long enough to get second level spells! now you can feed your party parts of yourself to aid them, giving them a bigger hp bar for the day! you also learn metamagic this level, so now your font of magic actually does stuff that’s important! you can spend your sorcery points to make a spell heightened, giving your target disadvantage to their save, or careful, automatically making the save for some of your friends! taisui’s got kind of a yin-yang thing going on between his feeding and his cursing, so this is the best of both worlds!

4. since ur kind of a nega-jupiter, you’re now a scion of the outer planes! yaaaay! since your god’s evil, you get resistance to necrotic damage, and you get chill touch again!

you can also cast mold earth to cover yourself up again, and you can cast wither and bloom! with this spell, every creature you choose takes necrotic damage, and one creature you choose can roll a hit die and gain hp back! it’s literally everything you do in a single spell!

5. fifth level, you have magical guidance, spend sorcery points to reroll checks, whatever! the important thing is now you can bestow curses! the phb gives some suggestions, but really you can do anything your dm lets you get away with!

6. sixth level divine souls have empowered healing, so whenever you or someone next to you heals someone, you can spend a sorcery point to reroll some of those dice, once a turn! i’m not sure if that works for life transference or not, but either way this spell makes feeding yourself to someone a lot more visceral. you take damage, and then someone else gets healed for twice the amount of damage you took!

7. you can now give urself an aura of purity, making friendly creatures in it immune to disease, resistant to poison damage, and they get advantage on saves against a buncha common status effects too!

8. at eighth level you get another ASI, so now you’re a Baleful Scion. that rounds up your Charisma and lets you pull people into the Grasp of Avarice- once a turn, you can add some necrotic damage to the damage you deal, which also heals you for that amount. your best healing spell so far uses your HP, so you need to fill that back up somehow.

you can also summon a Spirit of Death for an hour, making a floaty medium boy you can ride around on! you don’t even need to spend any actions commanding it or nothin’. it can only attack one creature at a time, but it’ll lock on to them and let you know where they are the whole time!

9. you can now make an insect plague! don’t misspell that, trust me. now you can make a 20’ radius sphere of locusts that obscure the whole place, and everything inside it has to make a constitution save or get piercing damage!

10. tenth level sorcerers have another kind of metamagic like extended, doubling the length of a spell you cast, up to an hour. you can also cast resistance to protect someone from a saving throw-related dangers.

speaking of saves, you can cast the most messed-up spell in the game, Contagion! if you hit your target, they have to make a constitution save at the end of each turn, working like death saves. after three successes, the spell ends. after three failures, you can curse them with a terrible disease for seven days.

11. at eleventh level, you can cast sixth level spells like Heroes’ Feast! after casting this, you can feed yourself to up to twelve creatures, curing them of all diseases and poisons, immunity to poison and being frightened, and they had advantage on all wisdom saves! on top of that, they gain extra HP, and all for a full day! just… maybe don’t tell them what the feast’s made of.

12. twelfth level, another ASI! bump up that Con for more Cons! it’s health, you’ll get more health. this is retroactive, remember, so you get an extra 12 HP this level.

13. thirteenth level sorcerers get seventh level spells, and its time to get real curses! with Divine Word you can hit any number of creatures within 30’ of you, forcing a charisma save on all of them. depending on how many HP they have, they’ll become deafened, blinded, stunned, or even straight up dead if they fail a charisma save. this also banishes any celestial, fey, or fiend if they’re not from around here, so that would make Dagon a real cakewalk. also, on the “instantly killing people” front, this gives you more than enough room to take out some poor bastard’s whole extended family.

14. your Angelic Form is a lot different than most people would expect, but you can still use your bonus action to fly around on your curse lump, with no limit on flight time!

15. eighth level spells! you can now Regenerate your allies by forcefeeding them a whole Con, giving them a healthy amount of HP immediately, with a trailing 1 HP per turn for an hour afterwards. two minutes into the spell any missing limbs grow back, though they can also instantly be reattached by just slappin ‘em back on if you got ‘em.

16. another ASI, another Con for more HP.

17. you can now use twinned metamagic, turning a single-target spell into one that hits two creatures!

speaking of single target spells, Power Word Kill’s a hell of one, ain’t it? if the chosen target has 100 HP or less, they die instantly! no saves, no nothin’.

18. you spent so much time putting Cons into other people, we almost forgot to get some Cons into you! with Unearthly Recovery, letting you spend a bonus action to regain half your HP once a day! big heal energy.

19. one last ASI before the build finishes! with the Tough feat, it’s like you ate two Cons at once, giving you an extra 38 HP now, plus another two next level.

20. at level twenty you get the sorcerer’s capstone, Sorcerous Restoration! every short rest, you get four extra sorcery point!

…yeah there’s a reason we usually multiclass.

Pros and Cons

Pros:

you have an amazing Con-stitution for a caster, giving you way more HP than most would expect of you. having a healer that doesn’t die easy is super helpful. this also means you have great con-centration. your more powerful spells don’t need it, but dropping a spell always hurts.

not only are you a great healer, you’re great at making other people heal too! you also have access to some strong defensive buffs like heroes’ feast, aura of purity, and resistance. also, being able to grow back limbs can be pretty useful!

you also dish out devastating debuffs, destroying enemy defenses with divine words, curses, and disease.

Cons:

yep, there’s a lotta them in there.

(but seriously, a lack of direct attacks drags fights out, the sorcerer capstone sucks)

[xerith-42]

The second turning point

@cinnamontoastcroonch I hope you're happy.

I've been taking a critical eye to every episode of Minecraft Diaries as I rewatch it. And I mean writing upwards of entire essays about single episodes. As you saw with episode 65. Part of why I've been doing this is to see where things truly went wrong with this show. The early episodes were better than I remembered, but I know for a fact there was an entire falling apart that happened between the utter quality that is an episode like say episode 58, and well... Season 3.

Obviously episode 65 was the turning point, but that was just the inciting incident. All the problems in MCD ultimately come down to the love triangle and how poorly it was handled. And the next major step was in episode 77. Episode 77 is an episode that is mostly spent on minimal character interactions at the wolf tribe after the gang finally gets back there with Logan and everyone else. Aphmau spends most of the episode building a boat, and then getting distracted from building her boat.

Until she decides to go check on the Nether Portal. It's broken, like when she last saw it, but Laurance is standing in front of it. I need to emphasize something. Up until this point, we've gotten very few conversations where Laurance brings up being a Shadow Knight. He usually diverts these conversations, or they get diverted by others, so we've gotten very few personal insights into a Shadow Knights existence. This is one of the first real times that we get a deeper look at how this condition has effected Laurance.

And y'know what? I'm just gonna give you a quote from my video essay on this. A nice little teaser. As a treat :)

His mind has sort of been rewired to put himself before others, even if he’s naturally a very selfless person. Which is a real slap in the face when you remember most Shadow Knights are guards, who are encouraged to be selfless. His heart still loves dearly and he is still the same selfless fool who threw his life away to save Aphmau, but his mind is telling him to be more selfish, take what he wants without regard for others. Laurance is actively fighting these thoughts all the time, but he worries that one day he might give in and… He says he never wants his heart to forget Aphmau, even if his mind tells him otherwise.

This. This hurts me. It's quality Laurance content. It's a great moment of Laurance proving one of his greatest strengths and weaknesses. How emotionally vulnerable he is. It makes him easy to hurt. It means he'll actually express it. He's struggled to talk about being a Shadow Knight, but now he's able to.

Imagine if episode 65 let him see the fear of killing Aphmau before this.

And just as Laurance says that absolutely heartbreaking line, GUESS WHO HAS TO MOSEY HIS SORRY ASS INTO THE ROOM?! Garroth just waltzs in there and interrupts this incredibly private conversation that he just happened to be listening to. Now, I will say, there is a way to justify this that I will accept, but I know without a doubt the writers didn't intend this.

The only way this works is if Garroth is listening to this conversation because he's scared of leaving Aph and Laurance alone in case Laurance decides to just... Kill her. But then he feels bad. But that would probably make him walk away out of guilt.

So yeah this doesn't make sense. For Garroth. At all. Why is he so scared of Laurance and Aphmau literally having one conversation? Well, it's the answer it always is. The love triangle. They've shown before that they are willing to disregard basic logic, only to prove that they know the details of this logic in a later episode. In Episode 65 they disregard Garroth's fears around his family, and then center an entire conversation around it in Episode 68.

But wait, it gets worse. Because Garroth knows for a fact that Aphmau and Laurance having an emotional conversation won't likely lead to any romance.

BECAUSE HE SAW LAURANCE CONFESS TO APHMAU 24 EPISODES AGO AND SAW HER REJECT HIM!!

There were seven weeks in between these episodes!! Idk how long it takes to make an episode of MCD, but I imagine episodes are written in major arcs at a time. How did they forget what happened IN THE LAST MAJOR ARC OF THE SHOW?! Because. Love triangle. Because Jesson don't care about the characters they previously wrote, they care about these characters fulfilling an already existing trope they liked in something before. They don't care how this dynamic might change because of their own characters, just that they go through the motions.

So Garroth interrupts this conversation. Laurance gets snippy and tells Garroth to fess up or else he might "sweep her off her feet first." And that's a red flag for Laurance. Good job writers. And let's be clear, I don't disagree with characters maybe being shitty, as long as it doesn't contradict previous characterization. Like this does.

The writers forgot that Garroth saw Laurance's confession. They forgot that Laurance took rejection on the chin. They forgot that Laurance literally said "I'm just happy to be in your life." Did they forget about Laurance's entire confession?! Do the writers think that went away when he stopped being blind?!

...

Oh fuck... Did... Did Laurance only accept rejection because he didn't think he was good enough to be with her when he was blind? Is that what they're trying to say? I... I really hope that isn't. And yet I wouldn't be surprised. Just completely and utterly disappointed.

That took a turn I didnt like. I don't know how to end this now.

[no1frogfan]

Kaiju give me your number

Iwaizumi x gn reader

Word count: ~700

Tags & warnings: None

Notes: I was struck by a deeply silly idea tonight (don’t worry, it gets sillier!), so this is my first entry for the spooky sports collab hosted by the one and only @koushuwu! Check out the collab masterlist here! (Please forgive me, Mica! My original entry will be arriving some time in the future!)

The only warning you get is a muffled I’ll get it! before the door swings open. Standing inside is a shadowy figure, its vague spiky shape barely illuminated by the streetlights behind you, looking particularly ominous in contrast to the decidedly un-spooky R&B now thumping out into the quiet night.

You squint into the darkness. “Um…hello? I’ve got a delivery for-”

Suddenly, the shadow lunges forward.

You let out a scream, almost losing your balance as you lurch back a few steps. A hand (too leathery to be human) reaches out and…

…flicks on the porch light, almost blinding you.

“Hey! Turn it down I can't hear!”

You’re still blinking away the stars in your eyes when you see it — him. Them. Two of the firmest, cushiest pecs you have ever seen casting an actual shadow over a set of gorgeous abs, the skin smooth and soft, especially against the rough black scales covering his legs and arms.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you over the music. What did you say?”

Despite the absolutely stunning man in front of you, your brain somehow manages to make sense of what he’s saying.

“Um…I have a delivery for-” you glance down at the receipt “-for Hajime?”

“Wait, aren’t you…?”

He does a double take. Holy shit, it's actually you. You’re wearing the same helmet (black and covered in stickers) and — he checks behind you — that's the same bike! A sleek green one with bright yellow panniers.

“I’m looking for Hajime. Am I at the right place?”

You check the receipt again, leaning back to squint at the house number above the door. It’s partly to actually check if you’re at the right address, but mostly to calm down by looking at something other than a stranger dressed as the world’s most attractive lizard man. You didn’t even know you were into lizard men.

“That’s me. I’m Hajime.”

He reaches up and you track the flex of his biceps as he lifts the lizard mask off his head. Oh fuck. His face is handsome too, and a little bit familiar — maybe from around campus.

You must have been standing slack-jawed for too long because he glances down at his bare chest and blushes. “Sorry, I’m- my friends thought sexy Godzilla would be funny...”

Ah, that would explain the dorsal spines.

(It’s actually a little annoying how apologetic he seems, as if looking like that was something to be embarrassed about.)

Almost on cue, two more huge men crowd into the doorway. You guess these must be the friends he’s referring to because they’re dressed as what can only be described as sexy pieces of bread, one slathered with peanut butter and the other slathered with jelly.

“Sweet, food’s here!” Yells the sexy jelly man, reaching out to grab the bags from your hands.

The sexy peanut butter man pauses and looks suspiciously between both your embarrassed faces, scrutinizing you closely before something seems to dawn on him.

“Wait a minute…isn’t this that biker you crashed into?” He whirls on you. “Are you that biker?”

“Mattsun…” Iwaizumi warns.

He — Mattsun — gestures at Hajime. “Do you remember him? Last month? He wasn’t looking and walked right in front of you?”

Recognition flashes across your face and a cheeky grin grows on Mattsun’s. “I knew it.” He leans in conspiratorially. “You know, he won’t shut up about you, wants to take you home to really apologize if you know what I mean.”

Your eyes dart to Hajime. He wants to what? With you?

“Enough!”

Iwaizumi hurriedly shoves the other man back and stuffs the signed receipt into your hands.

“Sorry about him.”

A few excruciating seconds pass while you both stand awkwardly in the doorway. Right. Guess not. His friend was probably just messing with you…

“Well, thanks.”

You sneak one last furtive glance at that sexy Godzilla chest before turning to leave.

“Wait! Do you want to…come in for a drink? Or something?”

“Oh! I can’t…I’m working.”

You gesture vaguely to your left, toward the restaurant.

“Right, obviously, right, sorry. That was stupid.”

Another beat of silence, though this time it's probably more excruciating for him than for you.

"God you're hopeless." Mattsun’s head pops up over Hajime's shoulder. “What he means is can he get your number?”

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

I wrote a little something for @lesservillain Strange and Spooky stories. 🐈‍⬛🧡

Prompt: Black Cat - When a bunch of kids were chasing around a black cat, your muse decides to save the day…by bringing it home. WK: 1.2k

Warnings: Implied sexual content but no actual smut annnnd that’s it, just Eddie being cute n sweet to a lil kitty in need.😉🧡

Eddie was sitting on the front steps of his trailer enjoying a smoke when he heard high pitched laughter and the sound of feet on gravel. He figured it was the kids that lived a row over rough housing so he brushed it off.

But then he heard it getting closer and when he looked to his left he saw a little black cat running straight towards him with a gang of kids in tow. The cat looked panicked as the kids ran after it squealing.

The ball of black fur kept running until it was directly under the step he was sitting on, looking up at him. Its bright green eyes were nearly consumed by the black of its pupils, Eddie couldn’t help but think they looked almost human.

“Hey! Give us that cat!” One of the boys yelled as they approached.

“Is this your cat?” Eddie questioned the boy with a raised eyebrow.

“We found it first! Finders keepers!” The girl next to him stomped her foot, a slight lisp in her voice due to her two missing front teeth.

“Well, I think you guys might be scaring it. You always want to approach cats slowly and quietly if you want them to like you. Why don’t you try calling it over, calmly.” Eddie gave the kids a reassuring smile, he knew they didn’t mean any harm, they were just excited.

The smaller boy who hadn’t spoken up yet crouches down so he could see the cat hiding under the step.

“Here kitty, come here kitty.” He pats his small hand against his leg in an attempt to lure the cat out.

“You aren’t doing it right!! Do it like this!” The little girl walks closer until she’s just a few feet from the steps and crouches down with her head tipped to the side.

“Hey cat! Come out of there! I wanna pet you!” She smacks her hand against the ground and the cat hisses, burrowing itself further into the shadows of the stairs.

“I don’t think it’s going to come out you guys, maybe come back later and try again? It might calm down a bit.” He just wants these kids to leave him and this poor cat alone at this point.

“Whatever, my mom says you’re weird and I shouldn’t talk to you anyway, that cat is probably weird because it likes you.” The older boy sticks his tongue out before turning on his heel with his companions in tow.

Eddie rolls his eyes and scoffs, even the kids in this town give him shit. Ridiculous.

“Meow.”

“Hello there.” Eddie perked up, tilting his head to try and get a better look at his new furry friend. “I’m sorry those kids were bugging you, guess they ended up bugging both of us.”

He chuckles, almost feeling ridiculous for talking to this cat like it would understand him.

But something about the way the cat was looking at him almost made him feel like it did.

“Well, I’m gonna head inside now kitty. You can hide there as long as you want.”

He got up, stamping out his cigarette under his sneaker before brushing his hands on his jeans. But before he could walk up the steps the cat walked cautiously out from under them. Looking back and forth like it was checking that the cost was clear.

“You’re all good, those kids are gone. For now at least.” He smiled at the cat, crouching down and offering his hand for it to sniff.

The cat approached him slowly, holding eye contact with him the entire time until it was right in front of him cautiously sniffing his hand. After a second it seemed to have deemed him safe and rubbed its head against his hand, allowing him to scratch behind its ears.

Eddie felt around for a collar that might indicate that the cat belonged to someone but he found nothing.

“Hmmm… you don’t seem to belong to anyone, what're you doing here, huh? You got a name? I’m Eddie.”

“Meow”

It was giving him that look again, and the way that it’s head shook up and down against his hand almost felt like it nodded at him.

“Are you a girl kitty? You kinda seem like a girl.” He raised his eyebrow as he continued running his hands through the soft black fur.

“Meow.”

Again the cat's head seemed to almost nod.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Well, what am I gonna do with you? It’s kinda cold out here… I don’t know what I have that you would wanna eat but you could come inside and get warm?”

He wanted to laugh at himself for talking to this cat like she understood him, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling that she did.

She purred, meowing again before jumping up the stairs to stand in front of the door, looking at him expectantly. He chuckled at the cat's odd behavior as he walked up to the door, pulling it open for her.

She scurried inside, immediately jumping up on the couch to sit on her hind legs. She stared at him, cocking her head to the side almost like she was studying him.

“Well… I’ll uh, see if I can find you something to eat, want some water?”

He brought his hand up to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck, not sure what to do now that the cat was inside just staring at him like that. This time there was no questioning if she nodded her head or not, it was plain as day, humanlike.

“Okay…”

Eddie shook his head as he walked into the kitchen, maybe the cat didn’t nod, a cat with human eyes? He’s being ridiculous, that shit Rick gave him really was strong. He turned on the sink to fill a small bowl with water and just as he started to fill it he saw purple smoke billowing in from the other room.

“What the-!?”

He ran through the smoke into the living room, not even thinking about if it could be some kind of toxin but his steps came to a halt when the couch came into view.

Sitting where the cat just had been was single handedly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and she was fucking naked.

“Hello Eddie, I am a girl, and I do have a name by the way.” She told him her name, and it was beautiful, just like her voice, just like the rest of her.

His jaw dropped and he stuttered, trying to find the words to respond but his brain was going a mile a minute and he couldn’t settle on a single thought.

“Thank you for helping me by the way, I really appreciate it. Let me return the favor.”

She approached him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, giving him that look that he now knows is human, at least to some extent. There was no way he wasn’t dreaming right now.

But when she dropped to her knees in front of him, when he devoured her, and ravaged her, the way their bodies touched to some extent until the sun came up and he couldn’t stay awake anymore. There was no way it wasn’t real, and if it wasn’t, he didn’t want to know.

When he woke to the late morning sun beaming in on his face, he was alone, his bed empty. He would’ve believed it was a dream after all if it wasn’t for the scratch marks on his chest and the little silver bell sitting on the pillow next to him.

[the-elusive-soleil]

love from before still strong

For @tolkienfamilyweek Day 1 - Parent-child relationship

Maglor is shaking as he makes his way through the shadows. His hand is still in searing pain, even though the Silmaril is now at the bottom of the sea. He can see the horrified, startled face of the guard he killed, and the horrible blank emptiness on Maedhros’ face just before he pitched forward and--

He shudders, tries to put it out of his mind.

He needs to get to Elrond. There is no room for a plan or for thoughts of consequences, only for that singular goal.

There’s nothing else left, is the thing. Morgoth is defeated (no thanks to him), all his brothers are dead, the Silmarils are gone and it is probably for the best, and Elros is already gone with the Men from the Host, departed for their new Isle of Gift while Maglor was huddled in the woods trying to come to terms with still being alive.

There is, distantly, the lurking possibility in the back of his mind that that could change. He is trying very hard to not entertain that possibility. There is no good reason for him to be alive when all his brothers are dead, but the situation only becomes more senseless if he throws away the life that only he has been allowed to keep.

So here he is, slipping through the camp of the Host of the West that he fled from, sword dripping blood, only days ago.

Fortunately, he does have some idea where to go in search of Elrond, from when he was here before--not from anything he saw, but rather from where in the camp Gil-Galad was most eager to prevent him and Maedhros from passing. More than that, he knows his son, and it is no stretch of the imagination to suspect that he ought to check the healers’ tents first.

Sure enough, as he approaches the tent at the end of the row, he hears a familiar voice saying, “Is there anything else you need from me tonight, Annehtë?”

It’s Elrond, which is good, but he’s not alone, which could cause problems. Maglor draws close to the side of the tent, the better to listen for an opportunity, and to stay out of sight of anyone passing.

“No, you’ve done all you ought to and more,” says an elf-woman who is presumably Annehtë. Peering through a gap between tent panels, Maglor spots her, a blonde Vanyarin who is probably not that much younger than himself, but whose face bears less stress than any elf of Beleriand’s anymore and makes her look unwontedly young.

Elrond, in plain and serviceable healer’s robes, looking weary but otherwise no worse for wear, is moving towards the tent entrance. “Then I will bid you farewell till morning, for this day has me unusually weary.”

Before he can leave, though, Annehtë calls out, “If you will stay a moment, there is a matter I would speak with you on.”

Maglor stifles a curse, and Elrond looks no less irritated as he turns around--he’s hiding it well enough for dealing with a relative stranger, but Maglor recognizes that set of his shoulders from every time he was made to eat greens he did not want. “What is it?”

“Why don’t we sit down?” Annehtë says, not really making it a suggestion. Elrond complies, mouth pressed into a thin line. “I’ve been meaning to check in on you ever since...well, since the incident a few days ago.”

So that’s what this is about.

Elrond’s face remains a polite mask. “I don’t see how there’s anything to discuss. Unless you suspect me of aiding and abetting them, which King Gil-Galad and King Finarfin have already determined was not the case.”

“Oh, no, of course not.” Annehtë sounds shocked at the very thought. “It’s only that, well, they put you through so much before. You were only just starting to recover, and then to have them come so close again, so violently--you must have been afraid they would come after you and your brother, to take you again.”

“Why would they do that,” Elrond asks quietly and evenly, “when they were the ones who sent us here?”

“I can only guess at how such twisted minds may work,” Annehtë ventures, “but people like that don’t ever really let their victims go, you know. It’s part of the game they play, catch and release.”

“And what exactly would you know about it?” Elrond’s voice is terribly calm and cool. “Having lived all your life in Aman, where supposedly everything is perfect.”

“I have had opportunity to learn from my Sindarin colleagues since arriving here,” Annehtë retorts primly. She reaches out and takes Elrond’s hands in hers. “I understand that you must have felt such a need to be defensive of the Fëanorians when you first came here. You’d never known anything else, so of course you would want to cling to it. But they’re gone now, and it’s safe to let yourself admit that they were cruel to you. They destroyed your home and took you captive, and allowed you to know nothing but their own ways and their rules. They hurt you, and now you don’t have to pretend otherwise anymore just to get by.”

Maglor’s heart pounds in his chest. Not because he believes what the Vanyarin woman is saying in her falsely sweet voice--he knows he and Maedhros parented the twins to the best of their ability, knows that they gave them every scrap of love they had to offer, and is fairly confident that Elrond and Elros held some affection for them in return. But this is exactly what he had feared would happen when they sent their sons away: that the Sindar and Amanyar would teach them to hate the people who had raised them, and would in time so convince the twins that they had been abused that he and Maedhros would never be able to reunite with them again.

He supposes it is only surprising that it took this long for anyone to try.

That does not make it tear at thim any less when Elrond bows his head and admits, “I cannot deny that there is some truth in what you say.”

Maglor cannot stand to listen any further. He came too late and lost his chance, and now his son is slipping away from him. Intervention is impossible, so he does the only thing left to him and flees.

***

Elrond had already had more than enough of Annehtë before she tried to lure him into some kind of soul-baring exercise. The fact that she was delaying him when he could swear he felt the presence of one of his fathers just outside only compounded the irritation. He tried polite evasion, and when that seemed to be waxing ineffective, attempted to feign at least partial agreement in the hopes that she would let him alone.

Instead, his trouble only increased: no sooner had he forced out the words than he felt Maglor’s presence abruptly recede, as if in flight. No, no, this couldn’t happen, he couldn’t have the chance to finally keep hold of someone just slip through his fingers like that.

He itches to leap up and chase after Maglor right then and there, but Annehtë is still there, looking at him expectantly after his most recent statement. Right. He has to deal with this nonsense.

“It is true,” he continues, “that Maedhros and Maglor invaded and destroyed our home when we were children. But that is the only true thing you have said. They were kind to us from the beginning, although it would have been expedient to kill or abandon us. They loved us as their own sons; they only sent us away because they were sending everyone away that they could.”

Annehtë is spluttering. “But--but they were, are kinslayers! They cannot have had kindness in them, or how could they have done all that they did?”

“I do not know,” Elrond says, a little proud of how steady his voice is despite his rage. “I have wrestled with that myself. But there is no doubt in my mind that they loved us, that they gave us all the goodness they could scrape together in themselves, which was no small amount. So you will not say such things to me again--not only because they are false, but because my relationship with my fathers is none of your business.”

Then, finally, he has the opportunity to storm out in the wake of her stunned silence, and the moment he is out of the tent, he breaks into a sprint in the direction he felt Maglor’s presence receding towards.

Fortunately, his foster father does not have much of a head start, and it only takes a few minutes for Elrond to detect that flare of fëa and follow it into the woods. He quickly spots a figure curled in the shadows at the base of a large tree. A couple of paces closer, and he realizes that Maglor is weeping silently.

That does it. He flies across the short remaining distance, dropping to his knees and reaching out. “Atya? Atya! It’s all right, I’m here, I’m sorry...”

Maglor looks up at him, wide-eyed. “Elrond. Is it really you? I thought--”

“If you had stayed only a moment longer, you would have heard me go on to verbally eviscerate her,” Elrond declares. “I felt you outside the tent, I was trying anything I could to get away quickly, but it only led to me having to chase you down. What has happened to you? Where is Atar? Why did you not come to me, or to Elros or both of us, before?”

Maglor shivers. “Maedhros is dead,” he says hoarsely.

Elrond freezes. “What? He cannot be--they told us they had let you both go unharmed, they swore to me--”

“He cast himself into a chasm of fire,” Maglor continues, glorious voice flat and dull. “We took the Silmarils, and they burned us as they burn creatures of evil, and--he could not bear it. They physical wound, yes, but not--and so he ended.”

He looks up at Elrond, meeting his eyes for the first time. “He was gone, and Elros had already left for wherever his Isle of Gift will be, and there was no one else, so I thought to go to you. And then I heard--”

“--possibly the least important part of all that I had to say,” Elrond assures. He cradles Maglor’s hands in his, noting with an inward hiss of dismay the ugly burn upon the right palm. “I did not want to leave you and Atar before; I am certainly not going to let you slip away now.”

“You should,” Maglor says, making a brief abortive movement as if he would pull away but cannot bear to. “I have slain kin again, I am a thief and a murderer and kidnapper, my heels are dogged by a curse--”

“I care for none of that,” Elrond says quietly. “That is, I am not glad that you have killed again, but I don’t think you will do so any more, and I do not think there is any punishment anyone could inflict on you that would be worse than the rejection of the Silmarils and the loss of Atar.”

Maglor is silent, only bowing his head.

“I will not be staying with the Host for much longer,” Elrond forges on determinedly. “Finarfin has been trying to talk me into returning with the Amnyar, but I do not plan to. As soon as I can make that clear without burning any bridges, I will be leaving here--I want to travel, and study the different peoples of Middle-earth, and collect their knowledge. So much has been lost during the wars, but nowperhaps I can seek to preserve.”

A brief hesitation, and then, “If you will only wait here where I can find you until then, you are welcome to join me--no, more than welcome, I would earnestly desire it. We can travel together. First to Elros, I think--he will be glad to see you are alive, and will want to mourn Atar with us.”

There is a terribly long silence before Maglor lifts his head again. “I should not agree. I do not deserve it,” he says. “But I fear I am too weak now to fight against what I want so badly.”

Elrond lets out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Good,” he says, a little unsteadily. He can work with that. Slowly, he drops the rest of the way to the ground and pulls Maglor into a tight, fierce embrace. “That’s good. That’ll be all right.”

[pccyouthleader]

Hedgehog Hodgepodge: A Story of Espionage, Confusion, and an Evil Plan Gone Haywire

Chapter 18: Stealthy, Wealthy, and Wise

“Here, put these on,” Shadow said, handing Aurora a pair of safety glasses and headphones. “These are for eye and ear protection while we’re here at the range.”

After falling asleep in the crow’s nest at the pier, they were awakened by the sound of someone blasting a marine signal horn. Looking over the edge of the railing, they had seen a snarky-looking capybara sneering at them from the helm. Shadow’s hands had tightened into fists as he imagined himself pummeling the rodent to bits, but one look at Aurora reminded him of his charge. 

The capybara would live to creep another day.

Now they were at Scope’s Gun Range and Shadow was placing his own pair of sporty-looking glasses on his face. The bright yellow of the lenses made his eyes appear blaze orange. He was wearing ear plugs to dampen the noise.

After checking in with the Range Safety Officer  (RSO) and listening to a lengthy list of “dos and don’ts,” he assigned them a bench inside the range. Shadow placed a soft case on top of it with a *clunk*, then proceeded to repeat the rules of the range. When he launched into explaining the rules a third time by reading from a pamphlet, Aurora had to stop him.

“Shadow, can’t you just tell me as we go? I know the rules are important, but I kind of tuned you out five minutes ago.” She smiled a sheepish grin.

Shadow gave her a frustrated look, but set aside the pamphlet and began unzipping his bag. Aurora’s small handgun had been stored there for the journey, and he took it out now, along with the magazine. He checked the chamber and loaded the magazine, placing it on the bench facing the target. 

Aurora watched his every move. “Do you really know all that much about shooting?” she teased, knowing the answer already. 

Shadow smirked at her. “Let the Master show you how it’s done.” Picking up the gun, Shadow got off three bullseye shots and turned his head with a smug grin to Aurora. She rolled her eyes, but a playful smile shone on her face. She loved watching Shadow do something he enjoyed. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t have a little fun with him. 

“I’m going to empty the magazine, then reload for you to shoot.”

As he aimed the gun toward the target, Aurora lifted her hand and shot a light projectile in the same direction. Caught off guard, Shadow fired the gun and the bullet imbedded into the ceiling.

“What- Aurora! Why did you do that?!” he stammered, looking around for a threat that might have caused her to react that way. Aurora giggled as she pushed the button to move the target forward.

“Hmm, let’s see,” she began. “One, two, three bullet holes, but four shots fired. Well, Shadow, I guess you’re not the Master after all.” 

He stood dumbfounded. If anyone else had done this, he would have obliterated them by now. But it was different with Aurora. 

Shadow slowly unchambered the handgun, took out the magazine, and placed everything on the bench. He turned to give Aurora a very stern look.

Aurora thought maybe she had made a huge mistake with what she had done. The smile melted from her face and she was about to start apologizing when Shadow started laughing softly. “You’re lucky we’re the only two in here, or the RSO would have probably kicked you out!” Aurora looked at him wide-eyed. He laughed harder at the mental image.

“Now,” he said, serious again. “If I teach you how to use the gun, will you behave? It’s important that you learn to use it safely. No more pranks.”

Aurora nodded, and Shadow pulled her into position in front of the bench. After reloading the magazine and chamber, he checked the gun again and placed it in her hands.

“Always point the barrel towards the target, no matter what you’re doing,” he said, moving behind her and adjusting her posture. “Only when you’re ready to shoot should you put your finger on the trigger.” He made a few more adjustments and explained how to aim.

“You ready?” Shadow asked, stepping back.

Aurora nodded. “I think so.” Her heart was beating 90 to nothing.

“Then whenever you’re ready…”

Aurora took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger. A loud blast erupted from the barrel of the gun, and the bullet whizzed through the target, coming within inches of Shadow’s bullseye shots. She turned her head to see an amazed looked on Shadow’s face.

“Keep going,” he encouraged her.

Aurora shot six more times, emptying the magazine, and astonishing her boyfriend. He pushed the button to bring the target forward, and gaped at the paper riddled with bullet holes all around the bullseye.

Shadow looked at Aurora. “I’ve never seen anyone shoot this well the first time they’ve held a gun!” Aurora blushed. “You have a natural talent for this,” he continued.

Over the next hour, Shadow showed her how to load the gun and magazine, and she continued to practice her aim. Aurora felt confident knowing that if she ever needed it, she could use the small handgun with ease and safety.

—

In the lobby of the gun range stood a familiar figure, out of sight and out of mind. He watched through the window in heated displeasure as the couple interacted, so natural and easy in each other’s company. The observer was incognito, having received word from an informant about Aurora’s whereabouts at the pier. From there he had tailed them to the gun range, where he remained scrutinizing their every move. 

When Shadow touched Aurora, anger flared within him and he had to look away. But he had learned something from this surveillance: Aurora was naturally good with a gun. He made a mental note to be cautious in the future. The element of surprise would be ideal.

As the surreptitious spectator turned to leave the stifling gun range lobby, he headed toward the door and nearly burst through. The cold air filled his lungs and he could breathe again. Reaching in his coat pocket, he pulled out a small device and tapped it. At once, his communicator honed in on the small gadget and began to track it. After carefully surveying the area, the individual slid the device smoothly under the frame of Shadow’s motorcycle and walked away. He approached a different vehicle from the one he had driven before. Instead of his sleek black sports car, he climbed into a small SUV. It was only the mountains from here, and he needed better traction. A rather toothy grin replaced his angered countenance as he envisioned what was to come.

—

After grabbing a bite to eat at a nearby deli, Shadow and Aurora set out once again for a destination unknown to her. There was a chill in the air as he turned the motorcycle northward. Up they climbed, higher and higher into the mountains. 

At last, Shadow and Aurora arrived at a small cabin tucked into a type of alcove in the mountainside that shrouded it from sight. Aurora shivered violently as they dismounted from the motorcycle and made their way toward the door. Her thin jacket wasn’t nearly enough for this cold weather.

“Wha… what is this place?” she asked through chattering teeth.

“It’s an old G.U.N. hideaway,” said Shadow as he pulled an ancient-looking key from his coat pocket. “You should be safe here.”

The two of them walked into a sparsely furnished room with a fireplace, two chairs, and a coffee table to the right. To the left was a small kitchenette, as well as a hallway that led to what Aurora assumed were the bedrooms.

Shadow quickly closed the door, placed their bags on the coffee table, and moved to start a fire in the fireplace. Aurora picked up a dusty blanket and wrapped it around herself. Soon there was a welcoming fire blazing in the hearth, and she moved to sit down in front of it. As the heat melted away the chill in her bones, she began to relax.

Shadow sat back and studied her, noting the sad look on her face.

“Light,” he said softly, “are you alright?” 

She managed a weak smile, as a tear slipped down her cheek. 

“I am. I just miss my mom and dad, and I wish I knew exactly what was going on,” she replied.

Shadow leaned forward and gently brushed her tear away with his thumb, letting his hand linger on her face. 

“I’m sure things are fine back at home. Right now your mother is probably tearfully watching some sappy romantic comedy, and your father is sitting next to her, bored out of his mind.”

Aurora laughed, picturing the two in her head. 

“And you’re here with me,” he continued in a deeper, quieter tone. His eyes were fixed on hers, and his hand felt like a flame to her face.

Aurora sniffed. “That’s another thing. I feel so bad that you’re going to all this trouble and expense for me. I know you’ve got more important things to-“

Shadow moved his hand to place his finger over her lips. His expression became more serious. “Don’t ever think that you’re not worth all of this and more. I’ve got money to burn from 25 years of missions and nothing to spend it on. But money means nothing to me. This mission is everything. I’ve taken it on as my personal responsibility to ensure your safety. Aurora…,” he paused, “…you are my mission.”

Fresh tears poured down her cheeks as he pulled her into his strong embrace. He held her tight as all the fear and confusion and questions of the past twenty-four hours poured out of her in distressed droplets.

When her crying subsided, he gently placed his hand under her chin and lifted her face to his.

“Aurora, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for days - weeks - now, and I never could find the right time.”

His deep crimson eyes held hers in an unrelenting gaze. 

“Light… I love you.”

Aurora gasped in utter exhilaration. Pushing herself up, she stopped within inches of her lips touching his. “Shadow…” she breathed as their lips met. Shadow put one hand in her quills and the other on her lower back and pulled her to him tightly. As he brought her closer, he deepened the kiss, passion driving him like a bear to honey. He wanted her - needed her - this very moment. He began kissing her face, her jaw, and her neck, his breath coming in short, rough gusts. 

Aurora cradled Shadow’s ear in her hand, caressing it with small kisses, then gently nibbling with her teeth. Shadow let out a low growl of satisfaction. His breathing felt like hot steam burning her skin. 

Just as his mouth reached her collarbone, a loud, shrill alarm sounded, sending Aurora scrambling backward and Shadow jumping for his communicator. When he got the alarm stopped, he hung his head and swore under his breath.

“What was that?” Aurora asked, her eyes wide with shock.

“My communicator has been off, but has an emergency setting that allows urgent messages to come through.” Shadow took some deep breaths, trying to slow his racing heartbeat. “It’s probably your father making sure we aren’t touching.”

Aurora laughed nervously and Shadow pulled his communicator open to reveal a voice recording waiting. He tapped the triangle and was surprised to hear Tails’ voice fading in and out.

“Shadow! I hope you can hear me… something weird… if you’re there can you… Sonic…”

Then the voice recording ended.

“What do you think that was all about?” asked Aurora, anxiety creeping back into her chest at the sound of the cryptic message.

“I don’t know,” Shadow replied. “But Sonic knows how to access the emergency setting on my communicator, and I’m sure he or Amy would have called if something was wrong.”

Shadow sat in deep thought for several moments. Then, looking up at Aurora, he said, “I know you’re exhausted. Let me show you to your room.”