#i never payed for something as fast as for this shirt mod

[frrrozi]

anyways, Ciel in her Lominsan pirate glory

[smmahamazing]

There's been a pep in my step today because......

It's MirSan day!!!!!

I'm so excited to finally share with you guys a fic that I've been working on since last October. It's gone through some big changes, but I'm proud of it. And EVEN BETTER is that I've teamed up with @eliza-faust-diary, who has created an amazing piece of art to go with it! I'm itching for y'all to see it! So I'll get off my soapbox LOL. Make sure you guys check out the MirSan Collection on AO3 and everything posted from @dayofmirsan​! 

Thanks to the mods for setting this up!

Summary: Miroku Kibe has been irrevocably in love with Sango Tanaka for years. His fear of rejection has always kept him from attempting to get to know her, but when he finds her all by herself at an engagement party, will Miroku take the chance he's given and talk to her?

Read on AO3 and FFN

"So anyways, we didn't find our way back home until the next morning, and we still never found her shoes again!"

Miroku attempted a heartfelt chuckle. Apparently, the last bit of her story was supposed to be some big finale, or a play on words, or an inside joke that he wasn't part of? To be honest, he hadn't been paying all that much attention. He had been trying to find a way out of the conversation for quite a while, but the girl in question ('Is her name Yuki? No….Yuca…..or is that the vegetable?') seemed to talk a mile a minute. And there had been no shortage of stories to tell, much to his disappointment.

"Well…" Miroku stuttered, trying to spit out a sentence that didn't involve trying to figure out her name. "I think I see….I'm just gonna….head over there."

It was probably the flimsiest getway he had ever used on a girl, but his brain felt like mush after sitting through too many of her idiotic stories, and Miroku desperately needed to isolate himself. There was only so much socializing he could do in one night and he didn't want to use up all the energy he could spare for some random girl he cared nothing for.

Miroku walked over to the kitchen and pulled out a fresh beer from the fridge. After taking a generous first sip, he lightly leaned back on the countertop and looked out into the living room. The kitchen was designed with an open room concept, with only a small bar separating it from the living room. From his spot, Miroku could oversee the rest of the party guests mingling throughout the apartment.

He recognized a couple of faces that he might have seen around campus over the years, but for the most part found himself amongst a crowd of people of which he didn't have an inkling of who they were. It didn't bother him much though, not when he could hear Kagome's boisterous laugh from across the living room. He let a small smirk don his face as he once again raised his drink to his lips for another sip.

Today was Inuyasha and Kagome's engagement party.

Miroku normally didn't go to shindigs like this, but over the past couple of years, Kagome had grown to be a very good friend of Miroku's, and he wanted to support her in any way he knew how. That, and Inuyasha practically begged him to come.

Engagement parties were not Inuyasha's thing. Parties in general would tend to put him in a foul mood, and Inuyasha did whatever he could to worm his way out of attending one. But all Kagome needed to do was give Inuyasha those big, soulful, puppy dog eyes of hers, and the next thing you know, he was front and center for the biggest event of the year - until the wedding that is.

Inuyasha didn't have many friends, at least not friends that he could proudly call his own. Most of the partygoers were mutual friends of both Inuyasha and Kagome, but Miroku knew that they only came to be on friendly terms with the surly hanyou because of his bubbly, outgoing fianceé.

Miroku's friendship with Inuyasha also fell under that category. He met Kagome during his  internship at her family's shrine a few years ago - even though they all went to high school together - where they became fast friends due to Kagome's friendly personality, which of course led him to also becoming friends with her boyfriend-now-fiance - but Miroku could say with confidence that his friendship with Inuyasha had grown to something bigger than just being acquainted through Kagome.

Which was still a wild concept for Miroku to grasp. Miroku wouldn't say he was introverted, but he mostly liked to keep to himself. He was an only child to a set of parents who died when he was young, putting him under the guardianship of an old family friend - Mushin. Mushin did his best to raise Miroku, but he didn't really have a great idea about what it was like to raise a child, and Miroku learned early on it was better to grow up than just acting like the child he was.

In the end, Miroku had a hard time relating to most kids his age. He didn't watch the same type of television shows, play games, or collect action figures like the boys he grew up around. Others found him...intimidating, which led to a lonely childhood. But as the years went by, Miroku found that he began to care less and less about the whispered gossip that followed him as he grew up.

Miroku knew Inuyasha also had a rough childhood; perhaps that was the reason they gravitated to each other so easily. Not that they talked about it all that much. That was the great thing about their friendship, it didn't require a lot of talking.

His friendship with Kagome gave him enough of that. That girl really knew how to talk.

Miroku was shaken from his thoughts as Inuyasha sidled up to him, jabbing his fist into his shoulder lightly before leaning up against the countertop beside Miroku, his own drink in hand. "So, have you grown the balls to go talk to her yet, or are you gonna hide in my kitchen all night?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, my friend," Miroku answered, keeping his eye contact on anything but the hanyou beside him.

Because it was a lie. Miroku knew exactly who Inuyasha was talking about.

Sango Tanaka.

Miroku had been in love with her for years. Practically all his life if he was dramatic about it.

Miroku first met Sango when they were in high school. She was a "rough and tough" type of girl, known to play a variety of sports, depending on the season, and trained in a number of martial arts. Her family came from a long line of tajiya, and that was a title she wore proudly. Sango was loud, and opinionated, and didn't take anyone's shit. She never failed to go after what she wanted, and she gave it her all every time.

She was everything Miroku wasn't, and funnily enough, she was everything Miroku ever could have wanted.

He still remembered the first time he had ever laid eyes on Sango. It was the first day of high school, and Miroku had just walked into his history classroom. There had still been ten minutes before the bell was scheduled to ring, signaling everyone to start making their way to their first class of the day. Miroku always liked getting to his classes as early as possible so he could get the best seat.

When he was in middle school, he would always be the first one to enter the classroom, but not this day. Sitting in the front row was a girl, enraptured in a small paperback book. Long, velvet brown hair that went halfway down her back. She wore a faded pink long sleeved shirt that accentuated the natural muscle of her arms, and when she turned around to stare him down with those hazel eyes, Miroku was sure he stopped breathing. 

She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Miroku didn’t know how long he had been standing there staring at her. It wasn't until she gave him a simple greeting that Miroku snapped himself back to reality. He responded with a small greeting of his own, choosing the seat right behind her. At that moment, Miroku knew she'd be the only girl for him.

They spent the rest of the time together in companionable silence. Soon enough, the bell rang and slowly students started trickling into the classroom. She didn't seem to have any friends in this class, which was all the better for Miroku. It felt like he could have a part of her without having to share with anyone else.

She didn't speak to him again after that first day. Several times, Miroku had attempted to work up the courage to talk to her - about anything - but he chickened out every time, and his fear of her reaction to him only grew worse as the years went by. The more he looked on at her life from the background, the more intimidated he was of her. Yet, it only made his fondness for her grow.

She was spunky. By the time they ended their first year, it was known throughout the school that Sango was not a girl to be trifled with. The biggest factor in that perception of her was the fight that year between Sango and another girl - Aki was her name? The girl in question was a real piece of work; generally thought of as "popular", but really, that was just a code word for the term "bitch". Miroku hadn't been there to personally see it, but the rumor was that Aki had been bullying another girl - a transfer from a religious school in the next city over - and ended up in a fist fight with Sango. Aki threw the first punch, but Sango made sure she'd throw the last, while simultaneously making sure everybody understood that bullies at Hiro High wouldn't be tolerated. 

She was given a week's suspension for her part in the fight, but she ended up making a life-long friend in the girl she had defended, Kagome Higurashi. They were inseparable ever since.

Sango's sense of loyalty was both something that Miroku had a hard time grasping, yet something he desperately wanted from her. Despite his sometimes asocial mannerisms, Miroku hadn't been a loner in high school; he had his own small group of friends he would sit with at lunch, or work with on group projects. The term 'friends', though, seemed a little much to define the relationships he held with those people. 'Acquaintance' was a better term. They might all shoot the shit together every now and then, but he never let his guard down around any of them.

The Miroku Kibe that they knew was a fake, hidden by a well tailored mask. His friends were nice enough people, and it wasn't lost to Miroku that they trusted him enough with some of their deeper thoughts. But no matter how much he wanted to let them into his own heart, he always managed to pull back at the last second, placing another wall between himself and the world.

Miroku fantasized about letting Sango be the person to break all his walls. He was certain if anyone could do it, she could.

But there had never been a chance for them, Miroku's own cowardice made sure of that. Instead, he sat on the sidelines, watching Sango and Kagome grow into close friends. Eventually their group of two turned into three when Kagome introduced Sango to Inuyasha. He was the "new kid" their second year of high school, and Kagome had been tasked with showing him around and making sure he felt "welcomed".

Of course 'welcomed' meant showing the new kid where the lunchroom was and where the best junk food machines were, not getting caught making out in the janitors closet, but to each his own, you know?

And yet, here he was, almost eight years since their sophomore year, attending Kagome and Inuyasha's engagement party. Honestly, it had been of no surprise to Miroku to hear about their engagement. Inuyasha and Kagome were your textbook definition of "high school sweethearts". If Miroku believed in the whole "soulmate thing",  he’d describe them as just that. They were polar opposites, like fire and ice. Inuyasha, the grumpy hanyou, and Kagome, the sweet girl next door.

Sometimes, Miroku could just gag from the cuteness of it all.

The couple that had been conversing with Kagome in the living room finally moved away, giving both Miroku and Inuyasha a clear view of the sliding glass doors that led out to the patio. Standing by herself, gazing out at the city below, was Sango. She was wearing a striped magenta shirt, the same color she wore on the day they met, with a pair of forest green pants. Even without all glittery jewelry or immaculate dresses, Sango was still the most beautiful woman at the party.

It was the perfect opportunity for Miroku to finally talk to her. All he had to do was walk up to her and start a conversation; nothing flashy or flirty, just small talk. He'd been doing it all night with random girls who felt the need to invade his personal space, so this should be easy.

The golf ball lodged in Miroku's throat said otherwise, as Miroku nearly choked on the beer he was drinking at the mere thought of trying to talk to her.

"Dude, you're being pathetic," Inuyasha said. Miroku finally turned his way to glare at him, but Inuyasha merely scoffed at him. "Don't give me that look, you haven't heard a single word I've said, too busy in la la land thinking about Sango."

"And how long did it take for you to propose to Kagome?" Miroku tried to circumvent the conversation away from himself, but Inuyasha was far too stubborn to let Miroku off the hook.

"Nuh uh, don't even try and compare us, it's not the same thing and you know it."

"Inuyasha - "

"Look, we both know that Sango is going to end up being Kagome's maid of honor, and if I'm being honest, you're the only person I would trust to be my best man."

Miroku was taken aback by Inuyasha's statement. Being a best man….It was a role he didn't think he'd ever really get to play. He never let anyone in deep enough for their first thought of the person who would play a pivotal role in something as important as a wedding to be Miroku. Inuyasha refused to look at him now, obviously embarrassed at such a display of emotion.

"I...would be honored to be your best man, Inuyasha," Miroku said slowly, almost in a hushed whisper. This felt like such an intimate moment for them, and Miroku did not wish to share it with anyone who could easily eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Keh, whatever." Miroku wanted to chuckle at his abrupt change in demeanor. Perhaps this is why they could work so well as friends; while others might be put off by Inuyasha's rough temperament, Miroku was always able to let his constant mood swings slide right off his shoulders.

"Anyways, with that being said, you and Sango will have to see a lot of each other to help out with this damn wedding, and I need you with your best foot forward," Inuyasha stepped around him to grab two unopened beers from the fridge. He took the half empty drink currently in Miroku's hand and replaced them with the unopened beers.

"Don't fuck this up," was the last thing Inuyasha told him as he turned away from him to walk back towards Kagome, leaving Miroku to stand by himself in the kitchen holding two cold beer cans. The cans began to sweat from the change in temperature, causing Miroku to grip them tighter so that they wouldn't slide right out of his hands.

Miroku could feel his body start to perspire. He could only hope that the purple t-shirt he donned for tonight would be dark enough to hide the sweat stains that he was sure would start to show up under his arms. Miroku swallowed the lump in his throat, and after a deep inhale and exhale, started making his way across the apartment.

'Hello, my name is Miroku? And you are?' No, that's too forthcoming, he could be more suave then that. 'Ahh Sango. It's such a beautiful night out, would you care for a beverage?' Ugh, somehow that almost sounded worse than the first one. 'I love you, please bear my children!'

Miroku stopped just before the sliding glass doors and mentally slapped himself. He needed to keep his wits about him! Miroku was a handsome, cool guy; talking to a beautiful woman like Sango should be as normal as breathing. He could strike up a simple conversation with her, right?

For Inuyasha. And Kagome.

And for himself.

Miroku could feel and see the slight trembling of his hand as he used the two pointer fingers of his right hand to slide the door open. It was a cool night, and Miroku was greeted with a crisp breeze. He greedily inhaled the clean breeze that carried wafts of patchouli to his nose. Gods, she was his favourite scent.

Sango didn't seem to hear him enter the balcony, or at least if she did she had yet to make a move to see who was disturbing her peace.

'Oh god, what if she wants to be alone and I'm just here to annoy her?' 

Miroku shoved his negative thoughts aside, determined to give her a good impression of himself. He stretched his neck from one side to the other, cracking it a little to release some tension as he took that one last step towards her, his back straightened but not locked up, his head held high in an attempt to look calm and aloof.

And then he fell.

He fell. 

A weirdly high pitched yelp erupted from his throat as his feet twitched and scuffed across the cement floor of the balcony, pushing his body too far forward for his feet to catch. What sort of loser trips over his own feet? All he had to do was take one small step and he would have been golden. Instead, he was slowly tripping over his own two fucking feet, still keeping hold of the two beer cans, as if their presence was actually important in the grand scheme of things. The only thing that could have been worse would be to face plant right on her bountiful breasts.

Which he fucking did.

Miroku was sure he had never been so embarrassed in his entire life. It wasn't as if Miroku hadn't dreamt of this moment - nuzzling his nose in the warmth of her soft skin, peppering her bare chest with tiny butterfly kisses. But this wasn't a dream, it was reality, and Miroku's reality included him basically motorboating a woman who he didn't know personally and didn't know him on a very public apartment balcony.

'Just fucking kill me now…'

Miroku tried to lift himself up as quickly as he could. He really did, but for some reason he just couldn't let go of those damn beer cans. He clutched them as if they were his lifelines, putting more and more of his full weight on the woman under him. Luckily, due to all her training, Sango could probably lift two of Miroku, and was able to help steady him.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?!" She exclaimed, unfazed by where his head had been and more concerned about his own wellbeing. She had taken his face in both hands, trying to assess if he had taken any injuries.

"Uhhh…" Say something you fool! Miroku's head felt fuzzy with her face so close to his. He tried to tell her he was okay, perhaps impart a most fervent apology on landed directly on her chest, but he couldn't seem to form a coherent sentence no matter how hard he thought about it. He had never been so close to her to take in the gold flecks that made her cinnamon eyes sparkle, and he was quickly becoming lost in them. 

Instead, he belted out a cracked, "Beer?", still holding on to those damn cans.

Miroku hoped the ground would open up a portal to hell and drag him into it at this point. There was no way she'd want anything to do with him after this fiasco of a first encounter. Well, technically their second encounter. Either way, Miroku was fucked.

He thought that anyways, until he heard her chuckle, her lips turned up in a soft smile. She acted like he said something funny, not in a 'I'm laughing at you' way, but a 'wow you're funny' kind of way.

It was like music to his ears.

"A beer sounds good right now, thank you," she said, taking one of the beer cans out of his hands once he was steady on his feet. Miroku couldn't believe it, he was doing it! He was actually having a conversation with her! She wasn't rejecting him and accepted his offering of having a drink together! Even though he made a total fool of himself, nearly launching himself and the drinks off the balcony…..launching the drinks….The drinks….

THE DRINKS.

"Wait, Sango don't - "

It was too late. Miroku had been too far in his own thoughts to think about the fact that he had shaken up the carbonated alcoholic beverages quite a bit during his tumble, and Sango had already flipped the tab into the aluminum can. The next few seconds felt like forever, played in slow motion. The can let out a faint hiss before a small geyser of beer exploded upward, the can continuing to overflow with foam. Sango let out a small shriek, covering her face as best she could as she became drenched in beer.

Miroku stood there, still as a statue, as he watched streams of beer slowly trickle down her face. Their movements had a soft quality to it, as if they were caressing the soft lines of her cheek, gliding down the line of her nose and outlining her plump lips.

It was downright cruel how turned on he could get in a situation that was probably embarrassing for Sango. He should be doing something, like running inside to grab her a towel or asking her if she was okay. Instead, he was staring - no, leering - at her like some kind of pervert.

The thought was enough to break Miroku from his thoughts. He had a reputation for being a lecher amongst the ladies, but that was a persona he didn't want associated with Sango. After all, she wasn't just any woman; she was someone he could see spending his life with. Which he actively did.

He lurched forward slightly, still unsure of exactly what he should be doing for her, but unwilling to just stand there. There was a small table with a couple of chairs pushed to the right side of the balcony. Miroku threw the arm that held his own beer in that direction, intending on setting it down to cover all his attention on her. Unfortunately, he wasn't paying enough attention to the can to make sure it was set on the table properly. 

The can slipped from his hands, slowly making its descent, past the edge of the table, and straight for the ground. 

Miroku barely heard the plonk of the can hitting the ground, nor the hissing that came right before the can exploded, twirling along the ground at their feet, covering them both with the sticky liquid.

In a feat that would have made the soccer team at their high school proud, Miroku used the side of his foot to kick the can straight through a gap in the bars of the balcony. The can continued to spew beer through the air as it made its descent onto an unsuspecting car parked on the opposite side of the street, the sickening crunch of the can cracking the windshield echoing off the walls of the buildings on either side of the road.

He didn't know what would have been worse, letting the can continue to douse them with beer or vandalize an automobile. Either way, he only hoped some God would have pity on him and allow the Earth to swallow him whole. 

Of course, he could never be so lucky.

"Oh my...I am so sorry, let me get you a towel!" He said, spinning in place and practically barrelling through the sliding glass door.

It seemed like no one else in the apartment had any clue what transpired outside, too busy with the jovial nature of celebrating the engagement of two young people in love. It gave Miroku a small bit of relief, knowing that Sango was free from the embarrassment that came with the snickers and stares of being laughed at. 

It wasn't enough to steady his shaking hands as he began rummaging through Kagome's kitchen cupboards, trying to find something big and deep enough to fill with water. Three cupboards in, Miroku found a large mixing bowl and began filling it with water, searching through more drawers to find the kitchen towels, practically grabbing the whole stack once he found them. Once he had everything, he carefully made his way through the crowd of people. By now, he started to receive a few weird looks from anyone who bothered to look towards him as he passed by, but no one tried to stop him or ask about what he was doing.

He ignored it all in favor of the woman standing outside. She was fiddling with the ends of her blouse that now clung to her form from the stickiness of the beer. He awkwardly pinched his knuckle before reaching for the door in an attempt to keep his eyes looking anywhere but her body. This was absolutely not the time for his philandering ways to make this woman hate him more than she probably does already. He could see the small movements of her shoulders as she shivered when a quick breeze hit her, and any lecherous thoughts he might have had drifted away as guilt began to constrict his chest.

This was obviously a sign that they were never meant to be. How could a sophisticated and beautiful woman like Sango be interested in a schmuck like Miroku? The man couldn't even do something as simple as handing her a can of beer, how was he supposed to take care of her?

Not that she'd want him to take care of her, or needed anyone to do so. She was strong, and smart, and so fucking talented; she could do anything she set her mind to. Miroku could only hope to be even half the person she was, and a woman like Sango didn't mingle with people as lame as Miroku.

He carefully made his way through the back door, immediately set the bowl of water and towels onto the small table sitting off to the side and pulled the chair out for Sango to sit in.

"I-I brought a bowl of warm water and some towels to wipe the beer off with. Here, you can sit here. If you want to anyways, or you can stand if that makes you feel more comfortable or…." Miroku turned his body away from hers, grimacing as his tongue continued to word vomit in front of her. He couldn't believe he was still finding new ways to completely embarrass himself in front of her.

But instead of a stern glare or a heated comment about him, he was greeted with a small but warm chuckle.

"Thank you," she smiled at him, taking the offered seat and one of the dry towels, submerging it into the water and wringing it out.

He couldn't stop from staring at her, watching the way the muscles in her hands grew taut as she squeezed the towel, or the way a few errant droplets of water would cascade down her arms as she rubbed the towel into her skin.

She was truly gorgeous. The setting sun made her positively glow, her freshly cleaned skin gleaming when the light hit it just right. She sighed contentedly as she continued to wash away the sticky substance, paying extra attention to her face and chest. Miroku pulled up the other chair and fumbled with one of the dry towels, keeping himself too busy to notice the way she ran the damp towel over her collarbones. The towel wasn't squeezed out as much this time around, and it was almost painful for Miroku to watch as several small rivulets of water ran down her shirt, molding around the tops of her breasts.

The sound of the water splashing as she dunked the towel back in acted like a slap to the face, reminding him he needed to keep his eyes to himself. Instead, he submerged his own dry towel halfway so that he could wipe off his own beer soaked skin.

"You seem familiar,"

Miroku paused. Despite the fact they were both sitting together, he hasn't expected her to want to talk with him. It was a question disguised as a statement, one that he wasn't quite sure how to answer. Not in a way that wouldn't make him seem like a stalker, anyways.

"I believe we went to the same high school,"

"You went to Hiro High, too? What a small world," she chuckled as she continued to stare at him. Her eyes widened slightly as a thought seemed to pass by the forefront on her mind. "Wait...didn't we have a class together?"

'Several,' was the first response to come to mind, but he didn't want to make it seem like he was keeping any sort of tabs on her over the years.

"Yes, I believe so. That's where I recognized Kagome when we first met,"

Miroku could feel himself beginning to sweat under her vigilant gaze. 

"History,"

A confused look sprawled across his face. "Come again?"

"That's where I recognize you from. Freshman year. You were the kid that got to class almost as early as me,"

Miroku was stunned. They had shared a small handful of classes together over their high school years, but the one that stuck out the most for her was first period history during their freshman year? That was nearly ten years ago!

"Uhh….y-yes. With Mr. Myoga,"

"Sometimes, I don't know how we made it through that class," she laughed, remembering the long mornings of boring anecdotes and not enough energy to spare between the class.

"Well, someone as….aged, as Mr. Myoga had many stories to tell about the vibrant history of Japan," Miroku's lips curved up slightly. One of the benefits of being a flea youkai was living through each monumental event that made up the history of Japan. Although his method of teaching it was...lacking.

"He made the topic so boring! He preferred listening to the sound of his own voice more than actually teaching us about the subject. Honestly, it should be illegal to hold such a boring class that early in the morning."

"Fewer words could be truer," Miroku grinned, delighting in the easy smile that steadily grew on her face. She was so beautiful when she smiled. The edges of her lips almost seemed to touch the wrinkles around her eyes as she smiled, small dimples becoming noticeable on her cheeks as she talked.

It was obvious that Sango lived a very happy and joyous life.

"So, what's the story with you and Kagome? How'd you meet?"

Miroku never expected for Sango to take control of the conversation like she did. He expected that he would be the one to ask her a litany of dumb, intrusive questions about their friends engagement, the weather, or how her day had gone. And she would smile politely at him as he rambled, giving him simple, flat answers in an attempt to humor him.

Instead, she barrelled through, asking him a variety of simple 'get to know you' questions - What did you major in? Where do you work? What's your favorite color? Pepsi or Coke? - with the perfect opportunity for Miroku to turn the question back on her as soon as he answered. Perhaps she could sense how nervous he was around her. It was definitely easier than Miroku doing it all on his own, that's for sure.

It wasn't long before the both of them were laughing and joking around with each other. Part of him couldn't believe how easy it was to talk to Sango, although it wasn't a huge surprise. Miroku found practically every aspect of her life interesting and would gladly sit and converse with her for hours - eternity if she'd let him.

There was one thing he had to know; was she dating someone? It would be a devastating blow if she was, but after getting to know her for just a little bit, Miroku knew he needed her in his life. Even if he couldn't have her the way he truly wanted her.

Now all he needed to do was come up with a way to ask her that wasn't creepy or weird. Or intrusive.

'Just act….natural…'

"So, how have you and your date enjoyed the party so far?"

Nice. Smooth and natural.

"Oh, I didn't come here with anyone," she responded hesitantly.

"My apologies! I didn't mean to assume,"

"It's okay, I understand," Sango smiled, although it didn't shine through her eyes like before. She turned her attention to something off in the distance, wringing her hands together in her lap. Miroku suddenly felt a little selfish bringing the subject up at all.

"I hope I didn't upset you somehow. I swear on my father's grave that was never my intention,"

"What? Oh, no!" Sango turned back to him with wide eyes. "I didn't think that at all! It's just…" She looked away again, staring intently at her hands folded in her lap. "It's just...sort of a touchy subject for me right now. I've not had the best luck in the dating circuit,"

"Forgive me Sango, I have a hard time believing a woman as beautiful as you has a hard time getting anything she wants,"

Miroku's statement caused a pink blush to cover her cheeks.

"Yeah, well, that's just the problem, isn't it?" Sango mumbled. Miroku kept silent, watching the indecision flash across Sango's face, either caused by her deliberating her next words or whether or not she wanted to say something at all.

She looked up at him next, face still a little pink from embarrassment, yet she looked up at him with an air of determination. Her eyes were hard and resolute, but Miroku could see the tenderness behind it all.

"Most of the guys I've dated think I'm too assertive."

Miroku was unsurprised by this, but a part of him still had a hard time believing such a thing could be said about Sango. Her assertiveness was something to be cherished, not looked down upon.

"Sounds like most guys are just too insecure to handle you,"

Sango let out a small breath of laughter. "I'm sure they would all balk at the insinuation that they have crippling male egos. Much easier to dump me and go about their lives,"

"Well, that's just their loss, isn't it?"

Sango couldn't help but lock eyes with the mysterious man sitting next to her. She had heard that phrase before from a variety of people. It was always someone else's loss when she was kicked to the curb, and it always made her so angry whenever she heard it. It certainly never seemed like it was a loss to them; if anything, they acted better off. People usually said that to her in a veiled attempt to comfort her, knowing it was because of her own temperament that they left.  

Sango always had quite the mouth on her, and unless she could learn to tame it, no man would give her any time of day.

Yet, she didn't get the same vibes from Miroku. He seemed truly genuine when he said it was their loss. As if it was better for her to be her rude, straight to the point, brash self instead of the meek, silent woman in the background most men wanted her to be.

Sango was truly intrigued by this man.

She wasn't lying when she said she remembered him from their shared history class. Although, he had been more of a background character in the story of her life. She could recall them sharing a few classes over the years, and she had heard through the grapevine that he was sort of a ladies man, but they effectively went different ways after high school, and Sango pushed back any thoughts of him to the back of her mind.

Then one day, he was suddenly thrust back into her life via her best friend since forever, Kagome.

It was nice to know that Kagome had a friend she could talk to about her work. Sango was the dutiful best friend, always giving Kagome the time and attention she deserved as she talked about her day, but oftentimes Kagome would get caught up in the history of an artefact or a traditional dance, which was likely to go right over Sango's head. Miroku became a sort of conduit for Kagome's ramblings, saving Sango from having to pretend to be as knowledgeable about the subject as Kagome, or ask a million questions.

It was a friendship that blossomed over the years, as they do when Kagome is involved. Kagome's stories started to involve more of Miroku and less of work, eventually even adding Inuyasha to the mix. Yet, despite all the talk, Sango had yet to meet the famed 'Miroku'.

Kagome always said good things about him. He was quiet with an old soul. He had far more wisdom than most people his age and he never backed down at lending out a helping hand. A real gentleman.

Inuyasha's only helpful comments on the subject were that he was a 'lecherous monk'.

Which led to some confusing ideas about the man.

She still wasn't sure what to think about him. She could tell he was nervous; it was cute, the way he stuttered and rambled. And despite the rumors of him being a ladies man, he never seemed to ogle her or make her feel uncomfortable - despite literally landing his face in her chest. Their conversations so far had been easy and fun, something she really hadn't felt with another person in quite a long time.

Miroku was in heaven. He didn't think he could ever tire of talking to her, or listening to her talk about anything. She was funny, able to pull a joke out of the most basic of topics. And opinionated. Miroku was always up for a good debate, and he was sure Sango could give him a run for his money.

He didn't know how much time had passed as they stared at one another, probably only minutes yet it felt like hours. There was a heat developing between the two - not a smouldering heat, like the sun, that enveloped your whole body, but a soft warmth, like a candle, that started in the tips of the fingers, working its way slowly up the arms to take root in the chest. She just...looked him up and down with those wide cinnamon eyes, not in a lewd way, but with a sense that he was something new, something she had never seen before.

Once again, Miroku was stunned by her beauty. She truly was a goddess among mortals. Was it considered excessive the amount of times he obsessed over her looks? Possibly, but Miroku didn't care. Sango was a woman deserving of unbridled attention.

This was it. This was his in. He was gonna be confident and suave and somehow convince her to go on a date with him. He was going to use everything he learned from all the women he's been with and use it for good. For Sango.

"Sango, I - "

"Hey you two!" The raucous sounds of the party inside became louder as someone Miroku didn't recognize leaned their head outside. "It's time to toast the newly engaged couple!" And without another look back, they disappeared back inside, leaving the door wide open for them to follow.

Miroku could have screamed.

Why couldn't anything go right when it came to Sango? Their whole ambiance was ruined now. She was distracted by the party inside, and now there was even more of a chance someone will try and come outside.

"Well, I guess we should be getting back inside," Sango sighed, slowly pushing her chair back to stand up.

"Sango, wait!" Miroku leapt to his feet. He just needed one more minute with her! He didn't want this opportunity to go to waste. "I-I'd really like to see you again. Can..I..can I get your number? You know, we can...make plans or...something."

Well, it wasn't his best bit of courting, but it was better than being a coward and not talking to her, he supposed. And if she said no? At least he would have a definite answer.

She looked at him for another moment before giving him a soft smile. "I'd like that," she said, holding her hand out for his phone. 

Miroku scrambled for the device sitting in his front pocket, unlocking it and bringing up a 'New Contact' screen before holding it out to her with shaky hands. She tapped away, keeping the screen close to her face. She kept the phone to her face for a good amount of time, longer than she needed to if she was just putting her contact information. She pulled out her own phone from her pocket and waited for it to vibrate with a notification before closing out his own phone and handing it back to him.

"I'll see you around, Miroku?" Sango asked, so innocently yet Miroku we sure there was a layer of seduction there.

In a last ditch attempt to be anything but the loser he felt he had been all night, Miroku responded with confidence. "I look forward to it, my dear Sango,"

Sango departed after that, not before giving him a once over with her eyes and sporting what Miroku would describe as a 'devilish' grin.

That one look would carry Miroku into the next year, he was sure of it.

Miroku became deaf and blind when it came to the party inside, opening his phone back up and going straight to his messaging app. There would be time later for him to memorize her number - you know, just in case he accidentally lost it before they could set up a date - but he was curious to see what she texted to herself.

He expected to see 'Sango Tanaka' as the subject line, but was surprised to see a different name under the most recent message:

Slayer🍑😘

[Sent @ 6:15 PM] Next Friday, 7PM, Tanaka Dojo 📿

There was….much for Miroku to unpack here. The first of which was the nickname she gave herself. It was well known that the peach emoji was frequently used to represent one's derriere. Was her choice to use that particular emoji a coincidence, or was she privy to the fact that Miroku was indeed an ass man?

Especially when it came to Sango's gloriously toned and plump backside.

Miroku could have written an entire dissertation on why Sango chose that nickname if he had the time. Instead, he gravitated towards the message she sent herself. Normally people sent little one word messages, just enough to bridge the gap between cellular devices. Instead, it looked like Sango set up the details for their first date.

Their first date.

Just thinking those three little words left him feeling giddy, his heart pumping so heavily in his chest, Miroku could practically see the organ trying to rip itself from its fleshy prison. 

Miroku finally looked up from his phone and gazed inside at the party. Just like earlier, the crowd of guests inside parted in just the right way so that he had a perfect view of Sango. She was leaning backwards against the kitchen counter, cradling a slender glass of something bubbly - probably champagne. She was standing by herself, a gentle smile on her face as she watched everyone gather around the Kagome and a slightly nervous looking Inuyasha.

It was like looking at a freshly finished puzzle. Every piece meticulously placed in just the right way, resulting in a release of endorphins just by looking at the fruits of one's hard work.

Sango was his puzzle.

There were still a few pieces to put together here and there, but the hard part was over with. Now was the time for Miroku to take those few random puzzle pieces and finish his work of art.

A life with Sango.

Perhaps he was a tad crazy for having such strong emotions for this woman, but who was he to argue with the pounding of his heart whenever he saw her picture or the butterflies in his stomach whenever she spoke. If his feelings for her were wrong, then he didn't want to be right. He would show them all that Miroku Kibe and Sango Tanaka were meant to be together.

Miroku closed his phone and shoved it into his pocket, resolute in the path he was about to take. Despite the loud, raucous energy of the crowd inside, Miroku could feel several pairs of eyes on him as he made his way inside. Not too long ago, Miroku might have been put off by the interfering actions of his friends, but now he could only feel thankful for them. Thankful that they would let him share even a smidgen of their spotlight, even just between the three of them.

The sounds of the crowd, the eyes of his curious friends, he ignored them all in favor of the woman standing by herself in the kitchen as he walked towards the bar to grab his own glass of already poured champagne. Sango looked up in his direction as he approached and offered him a warm smile. Miroku simply smiled back, leaning back against the kitchen counter beside her. 

Sango deserved to have someone to stand by her - whether it be at the store or waiting for the bus, through bad times and good times, even at your best friends engagement party. And Miroku was going to be the one to do just that.

Because she was just the girl he had been looking for.

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

Banished (Part 51)

~Banished~

Word Count: 10K

~Master~

*Based off episode 4x06 of the 100, We Will Rise*

*Bold/Italics are Trig!*

Previous episode...

---

The fire on Alpha station was put out as your people worked together, the rain falling from the sky providing help as well. Jaha stood in the middle of camp, looking at the destroyed ship with a somber face as Jasper walked up.

Jasper looked up into the sky, the rain falling on his face. “It’s not black rain.”

Jaha continued to look at the Ark, broken to pieces and no longer offering survival. “It will be colorless when it comes.”

“How are we gonna know?” Jasper asked him as he continued to look up in the falling rain.

“Pain.” Jaha sighed. “Chaos. Death.”

Jasper rolled his eyes as he listened. “Same old, same old then.” He smirked before looking around. Children were curled into their parents, some coughing and some sleeping before Jasper saw the frown still on Jaha’s face. “Jeez, cheer up Jaha. Once you accept there’s nothing to be done, there’s nothing to worry about.” Jasper didn’t find one problem with Alpha Stations destruction. He had no plans to be inside when Praimfaya hit anyways.

There was a group of men, stock piling parts of the ship that had fallen and still reusable as Jaha watched on. “We’ll find a way.” He said before Jasper chuckled.

“I found a way.” He whispered. “If you never did, you should. These things are fun, and fun is good.” Jasper jokingly quotes Dr. Seuss as he walked away, leaving Jaha to mull over his words as the man pulled out the pendent from the dead man you all found in the bunker. He’ll find a way to survive

---

Following Ilian’s decision to set fire to the ship, he was put in the cell to keep him safe and to make sure he doesn’t pull another stunt. Kane stood next to you, asking if you were alright from your coughing when the angry mod ran past you. It didn’t take a genius to know they were going for Ilian. Kane called for the guard as you both ran after them. By the time you arrived, Ilian was already being beaten, covered in his own blood as you and Kane both tore people off him. One man hit you in the mouth and kicked your left foot out from under you, before you realized Kane pulled out his gun. Yet you had already landed on your knee, laying on the ground with a split lip and a throbbing leg.

He fired 3 shots into the air.

The shouting ceased as everyone looked to Kane. He aimed the gun at the crowd, getting them to backup from Ilian. “I will shoot the next person who touches this man, so help me!” He threatened as people looked around deciding it wasn’t worth it. Kane stuck a hand out to you, helping you off the ground as you touched your lip, feeling the slight blood coating as you patted it away. Kane continued to look at the crowd, daring anyone to attack, but they didn’t and chose to leave. “Good choice.” When the last person left the room, including the guard, Kane dropped the gun and looked to see your lip. “Go check with Clarke, let her take a look at you.” He told you but you shook your head.

“I don’t need to get checked out, it’s just a lip.”

“And your leg?” He motioned down at you limping enough for him to notice. You sighed and avoided looking at him. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine, Kane.” You told him, getting him to stop worrying. You nodded towards Ilian groaning on the ground. “But he might not be. Let’s just get him to the med bay.” You started to help Ilian up before realizing Kane was helping. He was too busy just watching you, noticing how tired you were. “Earth to Kane. You planning to help or are you just going stand there and let me do all the work?” Sighing lightly, he put his gun away, and threw Ilian’s other over his shoulder as you dragged him to the med bay.

---

“Stage two re-entry in 5” The computer informed Raven before it started to count down. She was sat in the rocket, looking at the screens in front of her as she worked the shaking rocket.

She pushed herself on. “Come on, you can do this.” She muttered, more focus than ever.

“Main booster engaged. Fuel levels critical and dropping fast.” The computer was finished counting down as Raven looked to the fuel, seeing it at 20%.

“No, no, no!” She chanted, trying her best to push on despite the warnings being yelled at her. The fuel hit 0% as Raven grunted, trying to make the rocket last.

“Warning. Brace for impact.” Raven was still stressing, hoping the rocket would pull through. Fire exploded on the screen in front of her as she groaned and leaned back in her seat, the lights in the rocket turning off. “Mission fail.” The screen lit up red as Raven read over the report of her failed simulation. “Exterior damage 100%. Cargo Damage 100%. Fatality 100%”

“Way to go, Raven.” Murphy was outside the rocket, playing with a toy car as he spoke over the speaker in his ear to the one in Raven’s. “Nuclear death wave 42, mankind 0.”

Raven rolled her eyes as she turned on her microphone. “Do you want to get in here and try it?”

“Nah, kind of busy out here.” He told her, focusing on his toy car. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to be responsible for everyone in the world dying.”

Raven was getting irritated by Murphy’s presence as she went over her failed simulation. “Abby said you had to watch. No one said you had to weigh in.” She reminded him.

Murphy chuckled softly. “That’s me, always going above and beyond. Speaking of, you keep starting your fuel at 75%. Maybe that’s your problem.”

“Pay attention. 10 barrels of hydrazine is all we have at Arkadia. If there was more, then I wouldn’t be having a landing problem.” Her sentence stopped as a headache ripped through her brain, making her pause and hold her forehead. “Damn it.” She groaned.

Murphy stopped playing with the car, looking back to the rocket. “You okay in there?”

“I’m fine. Shut up.” She snapped at him.

Murphy wasn’t deterred from her attitude. “Do you want me to wake up the doc?”

Raven’s headache started fading as she denied his question. “I’m good.” She said. She started to set up the simulation again, setting the fuel gage to 75%. “I’m running it again.”

Murphy sighed. “Sure. 28th time’s a charm, right?” He joked sarcastically as Raven ignored him, starting the simulation up again.

“Simulation starting.” The computer told her before the rocket on the screen launched into space, letting Raven try again.

---

Clarke woke up in her bed early the next morning, forgetting any idea of sleeping in. She reached over to her nightstand, grabbing her shirt that sat on top. She was about to pull it over her head before seeing a drawing she had done ages ago of Lexa before she passed hung onto Clarke’s wall. A pang in her heart caused Clarke to stop, just living in the memory of her deceased ex-girlfriend.

“Don’t you sleep?” Clarke finished throwing her shirt on before turning around and smiling at Niylah laying in Clarke’s bed. “Everyone needs rest, Clarke.” Clarke sighed in content as she moved across the room to pick up her pants. “There she goes.”

“I have to.” Clarke reminded her as she slipped on the last article of her clothes. “Going to the island today to bring rocket fuel to my Mom and Raven so they go into space to make Nightblood. It’s now officially our only hope.”

Niylah nodded softly, feeling the guilt in her. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop that boy from destroying your home.”

“It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have left you and Octavia.” Niylah was about to object but Clarke didn’t let her get a word in. “Besides, now we don’t have to worry about kicking 450 people out when the death wave hits or sharing it with Azgeda.” Clarke assured her, remembering when you had told her about promising half of Alpha to Ice Nation, not that it mattered anymore.

“Lexa would be proud of you.” Niylah said as Clarke stopped dressing for a moment, sparing a glance up. “We’re all your people. She believed that, too.” Niylah stood out of the bed, walking over to Clarke. “She lives on through you.” Niylah was trying to get Clarke to understand, but the look on Clarke’s face told Niylah she was thinking of something else. “What is it?”

Clarke looked her in the eyes. “I want you to stay here. You can stay in my room until I get back.” Clarke said but Niylah just shook her head.

“Clarke, I’m not asking for anything more than this moment. That’s how I live.”

“I know.” Clarke said as she grabbed her hand. “But Niylah please, once we solve Nightblood, it’ll be distributed to Arkadia and Polis first. I’d feel better knowing you were here to get it.” Niylah stayed silent, thinking over Clarke’s offer before smiling with a nod. “Good.” Clarke smiled as well. “I’ll let med bay know they have an extra hand.”

After Clarke threw her jacket on, she pulled Niylah to her, embracing in a kiss before pulling away. “Now go save us all.” Clarke nodded, sharing one last look with Niylah before leaving.

---

The plan for today was for Clarke and Bellamy to take the hydrazine to the lab. Roan was going as well to supervise, not trusting Skaikru not to betray him. Right now, you were listening to Monty tell you, Bellamy, Kane and Roan about the outcome of yesterday’s disaster. “Sectors 3, 4 and 5 had sustained the most damage. We lost the server room, all of our processors, life support systems, and half our living quarters. Backup power will keep the lights on at night in the room that survived, but there will be no heat or running water. And no way to restore it or reseal the ship before the radiation gets here.”

You nodded your head, trying to keep yourself from biting and hurting your cut lip more. “Is there any good news?” Bellamy asked as you agreed, not at all seeing a good part to this.

“No one died.” Kane said as you turned your head to look at him, seeing him staring past you to Bellamy.

“Forget the Ark.” Clarke called out as you all turned to look at her. She stood next to Kane. “It was never going to save us all anyway. We need to focus on the Nightblood situation. Is the fuel loaded?”

“It’s in process, but Clarke, it’s not going to be an easy ride.” Bellamy told her and you nodded slowly, looking towards Roan.

He met your eye briefly before Clarke caught on, growing concerned. “What don’t I know?”

Roan cleared his throat. “With the secret of Praimfaya out, I sent Echo and my army back to Polis to keep peace.”

“That’s good. We can’t distribute the cure without peace.”

“More than half of them deserted along the way. With the end coming, they want to be home. I don’t blame them.”

Clarke nodded, her face falling somber. Bellamy jumped into the conversation. “Do you blame them for burning Trikru villages on the way?” He asked and you smacked his arm lightly enough to get his attention, sending him a frown.

“That’s funny coming from you.” Roan spit back and your frown shifted to him.

“Stop, both of you.” You said to them, crossing your arms in front of you. Bellamy’s eyes furrowed as he watched Roan stare at you but you weren’t focused on him, instead your attention was on Kane as he spoke and put a hand on your upper back.

“We know the woods are a war zone.” He looked down at you, seeing you subconsciously rub a finger across the split on your lip as you listened. “After what happened to Ilian,” you tore your hand away, now aware of your actions as Kane looked up at Bellamy, “I can’t spare many of the guard to protect you.”

Bellamy sighed, giving him a thin smile as Roan spoke up. “My security detail can protect us.” He offered.

“Thank you.” Kane told him. “That’s very generous.”

Roan nodded looking around the table before ending at you. “We’re all in this together now.” He said before walking out.

Bellamy watched him leave, not missing you watching as well. “I’m going to go say goodbye to Octavia before we leave.” He muttered and you gave him a short smile he returned before leaving and Monty followed behind.

You were about to leave as well before overhearing Kane and Clarke’s conversation. “I’m going with you.” He said to the girl as you stopped right outside the doorway, out of view from Kane and Clarke.

“You can’t.” you silently agreed with Clarke as Kane reminded her that he was Chancellor. “That’s why you can’t go. After everything that happened this morning, out people need you here, now more than ever.” The look in Kane’s eyes made Clarke know why he wanted to go so badly. “I know you’re worried about my mother.”

Kane took a deep breath. “She’s going into space in a 100-year-old rocket. Do you have any idea how many things could go wrong?”

“Raven says the rocket’s intact.” Clarke promised. “She’d like a little more fuel, but as long as we get her what we’ve got, she said she’ll get them both back down safely.” Kane still wasn’t convinced as Clarke gave him a smile. “Look, we have to try. I’ll send her your love.”

You inhaled sharply, listening to Kane agree to Clarke’s statement. Did Kane love Abby? As long as you’ve known him, Kane’s never been in love before, or at least, you didn’t think he had.

Inside the room, Kane and Clarke shared an awkward hug before Kane walked out of the room, not seeing you as he went the other way down the hall. As soon as he was out, you walked back in, catching Clarke’s attention by your sudden reappearance.

“You got enough room for one more?” you asked as she furrowed her brows. “I figure it’s worth going. Roan doesn’t trust anyone but me, and I don’t think Bellamy’s so keen on the idea of Roan being there in the first place.”

“You don’t want to stay here?”

“Yeah, I think I wanna risk getting a black eye to match my lip.” You joked and chuckled, but Clarke didn’t laugh. She couldn’t even offer you a smile and you knew she was worried about the trip. You put your hands on her shoulders. “Look, I know you don’t trust Roan, and I know you don’t trust his men, but the only way we’re getting through this today is letting them protect us. Abby and Raven need the hydrazine. I’m not seeing another option here.”

“You’re right.” She sighed and you dropped your arms. You gave her one more grin before leaving her alone.

---

Octavia laid on her side in the med bay, facing away from the entrance as she watched the numerous people bouncing around and helping the people wrapped in bandages. Bellamy walked inside, immediately seeing his sister as he stood behind her. “You gave us a scare.” He said, trying to break the ice. He was immensely happy his sister was alive, but she didn’t anything to do with Bellamy choosing to ignore him instead. “You saved so many people, O. Without you getting here to warn us Azgeda was coming, we’d be at war.”

“Get out.” She growled at him.

Bellamy took an unsteady breath. “Octavia, I thought you were dead.” He kept his voice soft, quiet to not crack.

“Octavia is dead.” She mumbled, staring straight ahead, numb to the emotions she should be feeling. “She died when you killed Lincoln.”

Bellamy’s heart was breaking. “Please don’t say that, O. I’m your brother.”

She turned around, slowly looking Bellamy in his eyes. “Why do you think you’re still alive.” When she turned back around, Bellamy could feel his chest constrict and he couldn’t be in here any longer. He left his sister in the med bay to hate him as she stared off, detaching herself from the world.

---

The rover was being filled by Monty and a few Arkadia soldiers, Roan watching them as you tried not to limp up to him, your arms crossed in front of you when you got his attention. “Bellamy, Clarke, and I are riding in the front. You and your men will ride in the back with the fuel.”

Roan nodded his head, but one of his men listening in didn’t like the idea. “The King of Azgeda follows no one.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “He will if he has no plans on dying today. Besides, I think your King can speak for himself.”

“It’s all right, Seiku.” Roan interrupted, raising an eye at you. “Best we stay out of sight for now.” Seiku nodded, sending you a slight glare you gave a sarcastic smile too.

As Seiku left, Bellamy walked right past you, looking upset but he didn’t stop to talk, only saying it was time to go. The last barrel was put in the rover as Monty jumped off and Clarke walked up, joining you and Roan. “We ready?” you asked as Monty nodded.

“Locked and loaded. I do, however, feel the need to reiterate, you’re about to drive the last 10 barrels of hydrazine known to man, a cargo which Raven needs every last drop of, through hostile territory packed with warring clans, over uneven roads where one serious bump could cause an explosion that would not only kill all of you but wipe out mankind’s only remaining chance at survival.” Monty’s words weren’t comforting at all, every bad situation running through your head.

“So, no pressure?” you joked obviously feeling all sorts of pressure.

Roan looked to you, Monty doing so as well as his face remained stoic. “No, Y/N. Lots of pressure.”

You sighed, nodding your head just a little. “That was a…” Monty didn’t let you finish before he walked away. You watched him leave as you finished your thought. “joke.”

Roan watched your face fall. “Everything okay?”

You looked up at him, nodding your head as fast as you could. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m- I’m fine. Just uh, I’ll be right there.” You didn’t wait for Roan to answer as you took off after your friend. “Monty!” Monty let out a huff as he stopped walking, turning annoyed to see you jog up to him. “Are we good?” you asked as you stood in front of him.

“Fine.” He shrugged but didn’t spare a glance to you.

You waited, just a second to see if he’d add more before you let out a rather sad chuckle. “Really? Because a week ago if I asked you that, you would’ve given me more than just fine.” You waited for Monty to say something more again, but he stayed silent, only making eye contact. You sighed, remembering the one thing that had changed since a week ago. “If this is about me shock lashing Jasp-“

“You didn’t need to shock him!” He interrupted you, yelling a little and catching the attention of a few people around, Including Clarke, Roan and Bellamy who watched from the rover at Monty’s voice.

You swallowed, keeping your voice calm. “I’m sorry, Monty. He was going to read the list out, at the time-“

“It seemed like the right thing?” he stopped you, filling in the rest of your sentence. You couldn’t look at him, knowing he was hitting the nail on the head. Monty scoffed at you. “You know, Clarke and you aren’t the only ones doing what they think is right for the people.” Monty backed away from you and you felt completely awful.

You turned around, frowning when you realized Bellamy, Clarke and Roan were all still watching. You took a deep breath and approached them. “What are we waiting for? Let’s get this show on the road.” You climbed into the front seat without another care, hearing the door close before you let out a shaky breath and closing your eyes as Bellamy got inside, Clarke jumping in the backseat.

While Bellamy was hurting himself after talking to his sister, he comforted you, taking his hand in yours as you sat in silence and waited for Monty’s all clear before he steered out of Arkadia.

---

Continuing his amusement while Raven worked, Murphy was throwing a ball against the wall, catching it as it bounced back. After another failed attempt at the simulation, Raven let out a scream. Murphy wasn’t surprised as he talked to her over the earpiece. “All work and no play makes Raven a dull girl.” Murphy mumbled as he tossed the ball again. Inside the rocket, Raven was growing mad at Murphy as she climbed out. Murphy furrowed his brow. “You alright?” He asked but Raven was furious.

“I’ve had enough of your stupid, little jokes!” She yelled and pushed his chest away, moving past as Murphy watched her.

“Why don’t you take it easy, huh?” He told her. Raven stopped in her tracks, turning to look at Murphy with a glare.

She narrowed her eyes as she stepped closer. “Well you’re just a self-loathing bottom-feeder. Abby’s an idiot for trusting you.” Raven got in Murphy’s face, trying to intimidate him as she spoke. “She doesn’t know you like I do.” Murphy scoffed, turning away to not let her get the satisfaction her words were getting to him. “You’re a leech, Murphy. Sucking people dry and taking whatever you can so that you can survive.”

Murphy wasn’t going to sit there and let Raven berate him like this. “At least I’m not a mental patient like you, Raven.” He pushed past her but Raven didn’t let him get far.

She grabbed his arm, pulling him back and as he was forced to turn, she swung her fist into his face. “I hate you!” She screamed over and over again, her fist laying into Murphy repeatedly. The only way Raven stopped hitting him was when Luna, who had woken up at the sound of Raven’s yells, wrapped her arms around Raven and pulled her away. “Get off me!” Raven shouted as she tried to fight the hold.

Luna brought Raven to the ground, making Raven fall into her lap. “Breathe!” Luna stressed to the angered girl. “Breathe.” Raven still fought back, was Luna was getting through.

“Should I go get Abby?” Murphy asked as he watched Luna calm her.

“No.” Luna said, looking up briefly at Murphy before focusing on Raven. “Listen to my voice Raven. Breathe in, breathe out.” She took a deep breath before speaking in Raven’s ear and rocking Raven back and forth. “I give myself to the miracle of the sea.” She whispered. “Say it Raven. Say it. I give myself,” She paused, waiting as Raven repeated after her, “To the miracle,” Raven repeated again, “of the sea.” The calming technique worked as Raven cried silently in Luna’s lap, sitting up and feeling Luna’s gloved hand rub her shoulder. “I know the darkness.” Luna said to assure Raven it was alright. “It’s okay.”

Raven took a moment to herself, running her hand over her face before her wet eyes met Murphy. Slowly she rose to her feet, Murphy eying her carefully. “Let’s go again.” Raven told him before she took off for the rocket.

Murphy scoffed softly, not surprised in Raven’s apology absence. “She’ll be alright.” Luna promised him and Murphy held back an eye roll. “Will you be?”

Not sparing her a glance, he answered. “The darkness can kiss my worthless ass.” He muttered before ripping the communication piece out of his ear and tossing it to Luna. “You’re the new Raven-sitter.” He told her before walking off, laying a kick to the remote-controlled car he was playing with earlier before leaving, completely down with Raven and her rocket.

---

Bellamy had let go of your hand a while ago to be able to drive and the three of you stayed silent. You’d been driving for a while before you finally spoke up, turning to look at Bellamy with a frown. “You want to talk about it?” You asked, seeing his face fall slightly. You spoke softly, hoping Clarke wouldn’t listen in from the back, but not particularly caring if she does.

“Keep your eyes on the trees.” He said, trying to avoid the conversation, but you wouldn’t let him.

“Well, I want to talk about it, whenever you do.” You could see Bellamy processing your words as he reached over, taking your hand and squeezing slightly before grabbing the wheel again. You bit your lip. “She’ll forgive you. It’ll take time, but she will.” This wasn’t the first time you had to assure him, but it wasn’t that easy to Bellamy.

“We don’t have much time left, do we?” He raised a brow at you and you swallowed thickly, letting your gaze fall from Bellamy.

“Yeah, you were probably right, better not to talk about it.” You muttered and looked out the front window. Bellamy turned to you, feeling bad for making you even more upset than you were after speaking to Monty. He was about to say something before the road turned and you happened across a group of grounders. “Guys.” you said, shifting in your seat to look between them and him. Clarke moved to look between you guys.

“What is it?” She asked as you all stared out the window.

Bellamy put a hand on your lap before grabbing the radio to speak to the rest of the convoy. “Hang on. We’ve got a situation.” He spoke into the radio as you sighed, realizing what it was. “Looks like a Trikru checkpoint.” Bellamy said, sharing a look with you. In the truck with the fuel, Roan and his men stood up, aware that the truck shouldn’t have been stopping.

“They have wounded.” You pointed out, sharing a look with Clarke in the back. “It’s not a checkpoint.” You both started out of the rover before Bellamy stopped you.

“Y/N, no.”

You looked at him and let out a surprised scoff. “They could be hurt and you’re saying no to helping them?”

Bellamy’s face soften, realizing what it sounded like. “No, I’m saying you can’t help them. Besides, what are they going to do when they see Skaikiler?” It was then that you both realized Clarke had already left the rover to check out the wounded. “Clarke!” Bellamy called after her, groaning when he realized it was worthless. The guys in the truck behind you called up, asking what Clarke was doing as Bellamy gave you the side eye. “Being Clarke. No one gets out.” He told them before throwing the radio down and looking at you. “Stay here.”

You couldn’t get a word in but as soon as Bellamy was out of the rover you huffed. “Screw this, I’m leaving the rover.” You muttered and opened your door, sliding out as Bellamy turned at the sound, his face falling when he saw you join them.

“Wanheda. Skaikiler.” One man said, his eyes wide as they looked between you and Clarke.

“What happened here?” Clarke asked.

The man sighed and his face fell completely. “Azgeda burned our villages to the ground. My father caught an ax with his leg and we can’t stop the bleeding.” Clarke, the man, and Bellamy all rushed over to the older man laying on the ground. You stayed back, watching from a far as well as keeping your eye on the other men and women around. Some of them seemed to be watching you curiously as Clarke tried to help.

You tried to avoid the stares you were getting as you turned back to the convoy, seeing a little boy looking at the back truck. This wasn’t going to end good. “Bellamy.” You mumbled, getting his attention as he turned, eyes widening as Clarke and him both saw the kid. You started back to the rover

“There’s nothing we can do.” Clarke told the man as she stood up, Bellamy and her asking for the road to be cleared as the man shouted for his people to move before asking for a ride to Polis. You watched the kid carefully, making sure he wasn’t going to check the back of the rover where you had Roan and his men hid, but the kid made no plan to move.

“Hey kid!” You shouted as he stopped walking and looked at you heading towards him. “Why don’t you get away from there.” you called out but he just took one big step back, looking right into the back.

“Azgeda!” He shouted as your eyes widened. A hand landed on your arm and you were about to push it away before seeing it was Bellamy.

“Get in!” He yelled at you. You opened up his door and Bellamy helped you in because of your leg as you pushed your way through to sit in your seat as Clarke climbed in the back and Bellamy took his own seat. You were moving as fast as you could but Trikru grabbed their weapons and shot towards Roan and his men in the back.

As soon as it was clear, you leaned back in your chair, letting your eyes close as your calmed down. “Well, that went well.” You joked. In your head, you were thankful you got out of the rover, if you hadn’t seen the boy, who knows when or even if Clarke and Bellamy would’ve. Bellamy didn’t say anything, just looking at you out of the corner of his eye, seeing your eyes closed. You groaned as you felt the rover stop and opened your eyes. “What now?” You asked before seeing the running water.

Bellamy picked up the radio again, telling the other truck about the problem. The three of you climb out of the rover. “Murphy didn’t say anything about a river.” Clarke pointed out as you licked your lip feeling the healing split. You pulled your leg up a little, feeling the discomfort in your knee before letting it fall again with a huff.

“What else could go wrong?” Bellamy asked sarcastically. You turned around at the sound of another footsteps, seeing Roan join you three.

“The ice melted.” He pointed out as you sighed, running a over your face. “I’ll find us a place to cross upstream.” Roan offered and started up the rivers side.

He didn’t get far before Clarke stopped him. “Take the rover. You’ll cover more ground and it’s safer.” She looked at Bellamy at the end of her statement, meaning she was suggesting Bellamy go with him.

“With him?” Bellamy clarified.

“Bell, we have to get across the river.” You reminded him, offering a sad smile. “I’ll go with you.”

“You should stay here.” Clarke pulled you aside as she gave you a look.

“I can go.”

“You should rest your leg.” You scoffed and raised your brow at her. She just rolled her eyes at you. “I know it hurts Y/N. Just stay back with the truck, I’ll watch them.”

Your face softened, knowing she was right and your leg had been bothering you since you were rushed into the rover. “Alright. You got a deal Griffin.” You smiled at her before looking to Bellamy. “I’ll guard the fuel.”

When Bellamy realized you wouldn’t be going with him, he didn’t like the idea. “You’re staying here?”

You nodded and looked at Clarke. “I’ve been benched.” You joked, seeing Clarke smile momentarily before returning to her intense demeanor. Bellamy put his hands on his hips and looked at you. “I’ll be fine. Will you?” Your eyes flickered to Roan before back to Bellamy and it didn’t take Bellamy much to know you weren’t just talking about his safety.

“We won’t be gone long.” He told you and you narrowed your eyes slightly at him, seeing him crack a smile. “I’ll be fine.” You nodded, grabbing his hand briefly once Clarke and Roan had walked away and Bellamy climbed into the rover.

Roan walked around, taking your spot but before he could get inside Seiku stopped him. “My King, we should be going with you.”

Roan shook his head. “Nothing is more important than this cargo. Keep it safe.” He ordered and Seiku nodded and watched Roan climb into the rover and Clarke got into the back like she had earlier. Bellamy’s grip on the wheel was tight as you stood outside next to him. He looked out the window, seeing your attempt at a smile before he drove away, leaving you and the men with the fuel until they got back.

---

Murphy was having a hell of a good time in Becca’s office, repeating what Luna had said to Raven earlier. Only, he wasn’t doing so great. “I creep on myself… for the miracle… of a horny mistake.” Murphy mumbled, trying to figure out why it didn’t sound right. “I creep on myself…”

Luna entered the room, raising a brow at Murphy’s failed attempt. “It’s the intention that matters.” She spoke up, getting Murphy’s attention. He sighed as she got closer. “Raven needs you, John. She’s been in there a long time.”

“In case you haven’t realized, Raven hates my guts.”

“I don’t think that was her talking.” Luna told him as she replayed Raven’s outburst in her head.

“Oh, no it was.” Murphy stopped her. “You know that little limp she’s got? Yeah, that was me.”

“I don’t think she hates you as much as you hate yourself.”

Murphy didn’t want to listen to her talk about self-hate against himself. “Why do you even care about this? You’re the miracle, right? You’re gonna live through all this radiation either way.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be the last person on earth.”

“Why not? Because that kind of sounds nice to me.”

Luna shook her head at him before moving about the room. “I don’t believe that.”

“Then you don’t know me that well.”

Luna sighed and looked at him. “I know you stole that medicine for Adria.” She began. “I know you saved Raven from the drones.”

“I’m definitely rethinking that one right about now.” He interrupted her.

Luna’s face turned blank, done with Murphy’s attitude. “I know what it’s like to hate yourself John. Because of the color of my blood, I was raised to be a killer. The Flamekeepers harnessed my rage and taught me it was nobility. For years, I reveled in death and violence. I killed my own brother. Trust me when I tell you, if I found peace, so can you.”

Murphy was listening to her words, each one of them, but he wasn’t going to accept it. “I think peace is overrated.” He told her. “It’s the fighters that survive.”

And damnit, John Murphy was going to make sure he survived.

---

Octavia’s recovery in the med bay was getting better as Niylah helped her, stretching out her muscles in her leg by  the limb to her chest. Octavia was holding her breath, trying to keep her pained expression neutral until Niylah pulled her leg away. “Stronger already.” Niylah smiled as Octavia finally breathed out. “You’ll be running around in no time.” The silence in the med bay felt weird to Niylah as she as looked around, only seeing Ilian handcuffed to a bed on the other side of the bed lines. “Where’s his guards?” She asked Octavia who shrugged, not caring enough about Ilian. Niylah sighed and slowly lowered Octavia’s leg. “That’s enough for now. I’ll come back soon.” Octavia nodded and let Niylah leave the room.

As soon as Niylah was left from the room, Ilian spoke up. “I’m glad you’re alive.” He told Octavia as he played with his ties.

Octavia clenched her jaw. “You won’t be soon.” She told him. “Jus drein, Jus daun.”

Ilian rolled his head to look at her before looking at the ceiling. “I killed no one.”

“Wrong. You killed them all.” Ilian swallowed thickly at her tone. “And now they’re gonna kill you.”

Ilian paused for a moment, thinking about his options. “I didn’t know about Praimfaya. You can tell them that. I never meant to hurt anyone.”

“The sword doesn’t care about what you meant.” She stopped him. “It just cuts.” The silence before them settled and Ilian knew he was in danger.

---

The search for another way across the river came to an end as Bellamy, Clarke and Roan found a shallow path, enough to drive the rover through. “This will work.” Roan told them as they nodded and Clarke looked up to Bellamy.

“Radio Y/N and tell her?” She asked him and Bellamy agreed and pulled the radio from his pocket.

“Y/N come in. We found a crossing. Over.” He spoke directly into the call and waited to hear your voice, only it never came. “Cargo one, can you hear me? Over.” The three of their worries were increasing as you failed to respond again, Bellamy’s worries easily becoming the worst and by now they knew you weren’t alright.

“Something’s wrong.” Roan told Clarke and Bellamy as the three of them rushed to get into the rover again, heading back to see you and the fuel hopefully safe. Bellamy was driving as fast as he could to get back to you.

They reached to where they knew you were left with the truck, but you weren’t there. In fact, no one was there. “Be careful.” Clarke told Bellamy and Roan as they climbed out of the truck, looking around for any indication you were alright.

Bellamy pulled out the radio again, his voice frantic as he called you again. “Y/N, come in. Please tell me you’re alright. Over.” As the trio was looking around, Roan’s eyes flashed into the river, seeing a sack caught onto the rotted tree stuck in the ground.

“Over there!” He shouted and the three of them took off running. They were all equally worried as they drug it out from the water, knowing there was a body inside and terrified of whose. Bellamy stared at the symbol on the front before tearing the bag away. Inside wasn’t you, instead it was one of Roan’s men. “Seiku.” Roan mumbled and looked at his fallen soldier. He looked to Clarke and Bellamy. “We all know who did this.” He growled at them. “Trikru.”

“Where the hell are the others?” Clarke began looking around, walking into the water a little way to see if more body bags were caught.

“Where’s Y/N?” Bellamy filled in his desire to know, eyeing Roan carefully.

“They took the truck to Polis.” Roan reminded them of Trikru’s ask to join the convoy earlier. “That means at least one of yours is still alive.”  They all exchanged glances before rushing to the rover and taking off. There was hope you were alive and that was enough.

---

In Arkadia’s dining hall, Jaha was sat at the bar, nursing a cup of moonshine as Hardy and the men behind him spouted off about Ilian, finding the fact he’s still alive despicable. “How much longer do we let them protect that son of a bitch? This ship was supposed to keep us alive and now we’re all gonna die.” Hardy shouted to his following as Niylah walked in, stopping in her tracks slowly as she took in the scene. The man was still talking as Niylah spotted Monty listening in.

She made her way over and whispered to him. “The boy he’s talking about is in med bay with no protection.” She told him. Monty’s eyes widened before Jasper passed him, holding a cup and moving to get more moonshine.

Monty tried to stop him before he could pour it. “You really think that’s a good idea?”

Jasper looked at him and shrugged. “Moonshine? Absolutely.” Jasper walked off, refusing his best friend’s help at recovery. Monty turned back to the crowd, talk of labeling Ilian’s actions as a hate crime and demanding he be killed for it.

Moving across the room, Monty sat beside Jaha, using a whisper voice to talk. “Are you okay with all this?” He asked knowing the people listen to Jaha.

Jaha just took the last sip of his drink. “They’re just blowing off steam.”

The statement earned a scoff from Monty as he got closer to Jaha. “Blowing off steam like we were when we strung up Murphy for killing Wells?” Monty knew it was a low blow and the look of anguish on Jaha’s face let him know he struck a nerve. Jaha asked for a refill on his drink as Jasper obliged. Monty was growing irritated as the group grew more determined for Ilian’s head. “They listen to you. Say something!” He begged. Jaha however, turned his back on Monty, refusing to offer help. “With all due respect, your son would be ashamed of you.” He headed towards the door, muttering to Niylah along the way. “I’ll get Kane.” She nodded and he was gone.

---

In an attempt to calm Raven down, Luna sat next to her in the lab, repeating her meditation mantra for Raven to hear, but the girl was not stopping. “I’ve strained the air brakes, adjusted the grid fins and I’ve reversed the thrusters.” Raven looked at the screen, hoping her changes worked but it didn’t. “Damn it! What am I missing?” Luna tried speaking louder, hoping to get in Raven’s head but Raven just groaned at her. “Mediating isn’t going to help me land this stupid ship.” She pointed out.

Murphy had left Becca’s office, standing above the lab as he watched Raven’s freak out. “No but it might keep your brain from blowing up.” He shouted as he made his way down the stairs.

At his voice, Raven’s head begun hurting and he pressed her hand to her forehead, scrunching her face up. “Oh good, he’s back.” She grumbled before focusing on the screen again. “Okay, think. To land this ship in one piece, calculating the re-entry trajectory has to be perfect, deploying the thrusters has to be perfect, the burn rate has to be perfect.”

Murphy looked to Luna with an amused smile. “Maybe perfect is your problem.” He blurted out.

Raven stopped her work. “What?”

Murphy rolled his eyes and moved closer. “Perfect sucks. Why care about perfection if Abby and you walk away with the magic potion, right?”

“A controlled crash is still a crash.”

Luna sat up from her spot and joined the duo. “Swim away.”

Raven’s head picked up as she caught on. “A controlled crash into the water. Luna, its brilliant!”

“I’m sorry, Luna?” Murphy asked taking offense in the fact it was basically his idea.

Raven ignored him as she checked to see if a water landing would work. “Damn it. The computer won’t let me execute a controlled crash.”

“Screw the computer Raven.” Murphy stopped her from getting upset. “Fly it yourself.”

She looked back at Murphy who nodded to the computer, waiting for Raven to try. “Switching to manual.” She told the computer. The computer accepted the manual override as Raven gasped and made her way to the rocket. Murphy sighed and he started to walk the opposite way, but Raven’s voice as she turned around stopped him. “Murphy! Thank you.” Murphy didn’t reply to the girl’s gratitude, not at all expecting it. He watched Raven climb back into the rocket, preparing the simulation to manually land the rocket in the water.

---

Bellamy was driving the rover even faster than he had before, this time knowing for a fact you were in danger. Roan sat in the front seat, Clarke poking her head between them as she gripped the seats.

“We have to get to them before they reach Polis with the fuel. They’ll use it to make bombs and kill everyone.” Roan told them as Bellamy scoffed.

“You mean they’ll use it to kill Ice Nation.” He corrected Roan with a side glare. “All you care about is your own people.”

Roan shook his head. “Like you’re any better. That’s all anyone cares about.” Roan paused for a minute, thinking about everything you’ve done for his people and him. “Except maybe Y/N.” he mumbled.

“Can you guys not fight about this right now?” Clarke asked as she kept her eyes out the front window. Bellamy sighed, remembering his promise before he left of being fine, meaning he wouldn’t be fighting with Roan exactly like he was now. Coming to a fork in the road, a body laid on the ground and the rover came to a halt. Bellamy was about to leave the rover before Clarke grabbed his shoulder. “Bellamy, wait.” She stopped him.

Bellamy didn’t understand why he was stopping. “They left a dead body, we can pick up their trail.” He started out again but Roan stopped him this time.

“Trikru burn their dead.” He reminded Bellamy, knowing Clarke had caught on already. “They’re still here. Back up now.” Roan ordered.

Bellamy just groaned, letting his head fall back against his seat before looking out his window. “There’s no one here. They’ve taken the truck, the fuel, and Y/N!” Bellamy reminded them both, looking at Clarke on your name for the sake of her knowing what it meant to him to find you. Turning to Roan, his voice turned cold. “If you’re such a good tracker, go track.”

It took only a second before the rover was being attacked. Trikru men jumped on the rover, rocking it enough for Clarke to stumble in the back. “You were saying?” Roan asked sarcastically to Bellamy who sent them a glare.

The Trikru grounder Bellamy spoke to earlier came running at Bellamy’s door as Bellamy pulled out his gun and pointed it at him. “I don’t want to shoot you.” Bellamy warned as the man put his hands in the air. “Where’s the truck? What have you done with it?”

“Give us the king.” The man told him and Roan was figuring out what happened.

“Bellamy.” Roan mumbled and got both Clarke’s and Bellamy’s attention. “The truck’s not here.” He told them. Bellamy’s gun was still trained on the man as he looked at Roan.

Clarke was confused as well. “How do you know that?” She asked.

“Because everyone does what’s best for their own people.” He mumbled, recalling the point of their argument just minutes ago. “It was my men who took it.”

While Roan’s back was turned, a man tried to thrust his sword through Roan’s window but Bellamy warned him, giving him the opportunity to move. At the same moment, the back door to the rover opened and Clarke jumped out of her seat to the door. The man who had opened it trying to get inside as she kicked him in the chest, sending him to the ground and he rolled off to the side. Clarke closed the door and locked it before facing front. “Bellamy. Drive!” she shouted and Bellamy didn’t need to be told twice before he backed up, knocking off a few of the men before the rover took off. The rest fell to the ground, staring off as the rover disappeared past the trees.

---

Octavia let her leg dangle off the edge of the edge of her bed as she swung her knee back and forth. She glanced over her shoulder to Ilian who laid unmoved on the bed as Kane walked in, Monty and Sgt Miller and a few more guards following after him. “Lock this room down. They’re right behind us.” The door was closed per Kane’s orders.

Monty looked at the empty room. “Where is everyone?” He asked Octavia.

“They’re out there with them.” She told him seconds before pounding occurred on the now locked door.

“Open this door!” Hardy shouted at them. Kane and David positioned themselves between the door and Ilian.

“Sir. Maybe we should reconsider.” David wasn’t so keen on fighting the mob against someone who most likely doomed humanity. Kane turned down his mention, not up for surrendering. “On the Ark, we floated people for less.”

Kane snapped at him. “Mob rule will not dictate justice in this camp.” Hardy knocked again hard, his demand for the door to open not changing.

Monty joined the men, knowing the mob wouldn’t let up. “We can’t let them in here, they’ll kill him.”

Kane took a deep breath and pulled out his gun to check the bullets. David was quick to put in his objection but Kane disagreed. “If we let them descend into darkness, there’s no coming back.”

Octavia had been listening in to everything. A dilemma was playing in her head. “It’s the end of the world Kane.” She said and everyone looked at her. “Darkness is all we have.” She stood up from her bed and hit the button to open the door despite the cries of no from Monty and Kane. Hardy and his crew filed into the room and Kane was quick to point his gun at their heads.

David was going through a dilemma of his own as well. Follow orders or do what he feels is right. His breath exhaled as slow and he pulled out his shock baton, pressing it into Kane’s back as the man fell to the ground. “I’m sorry.” He told Kane who was groaning on the ground.

Hardy grabbed Kane’s now discarded gun and stepped over him. Octavia didn’t let him get going, putting a hand on his chest. “You can have his blood, but the kill is mine.” Hardy took a moment but nodded in agreement and Octavia let him go.

Hardy’s men cut Ilian free and hoisted him to his feet despite Ilian being too weak to stand himself and they carried him out, following as Octavia now led the mob out of the med bay.

---

Since discovering it was his people who stole the truck and you, Roan and Bellamy hadn’t fought anymore. Clarke also provided a level head on their hunt as the three of the them kept their eyes sharp. Coming upon a field, Roan was the first to spot the truck driving through. “There they are!”

Bellamy sped up, stepping on gas in hopes to catch up to the rover and find you alright. What he didn’t know was you were the one sitting in the driver’s seat, one of Roan’s men sitting next to you as you drove. You were terrified but you refused to let them see it, remembering the knife you were threatened with earlier sitting in his hand. Movement caught your attention in your side mirror and after a double take, you realized your friends were coming to save you. You started to let your foot off the gas, hoping to give Bellamy enough leeway to catch up but you were caught. When the man sitting next to you saw your foot easing off the gas without a reason, he looked behind the truck, seeing the rover peak through from behind the fuel containers.

“Stop them.” He told his buddy in the back before pressing his foot on top of yours, making the truck speed up. “Keep going.”

Roan, Clarke and Bellamy watched as the man in the back started to grab the fuel barrels, bringing them to the edge of the truck as much as he could. “What the hell is he doing?”

“He’s weaponizing the fuel.” Clarke told them as her eyes grew wide.

Roan glanced back at her. “I thought you said we needed every drop.”

“We do!”

Roan turned back to Bellamy. “Get me as close as you can!” He shouted before climbing into the back. Clarke moved out of his way before shifting into his seat next to Bellamy.

“You gotta be kidding me.” Bellamy grumbled as Clarke watched Roan climb out of the top hatch.

Bellamy pulled the rover up to the side of the truck and Clarke’s eyes went wide at the sight of you driving. “Y/N?”

You looked out the window briefly, meeting Bellamy’s eyes as a knife was pressed to your neck and you were forced to look away. “Now! Roan, do it!” He shouted and Roan made his leap into the truck before Bellamy sped the rover up ahead of the truck after Clarke and him came up with a plan and he yelled at you to give him a clean shot.

Roan landed on the back with his hands on his own man and the fight begun. Roan was pinned over the barrels before he pushed the man away shoving him, but the man tripped him and Roan was pinned once again. A knife was pulled on Roan but Roan kicked it away and the man stumbled backwards as Roan got up. The fight went on, neither person winning as the fuel dragged to the edge of the truck slowly shifted every time the truck rumbled until it was hanging off. Roan had finally got the upper hand, shoving his thumb into the man’s eyes. He screamed and let his guard down enough for Roan to grab his knife from him and shove it into his chest. The man’s fighting stopped as Roan killed him, whispering traitor in his ear before kicking him off the truck. When Roan noticed the barrel moving, he grabbed it, saving it from falling as well.

One man was dead but the other still held a knife to your throat, forcing you to keep driving. You watched your boyfriend and Clarke drive ahead, you didn’t know what the plan was, but Bellamy wanted a clean shot, so obviously he had a plan. Right?

The rover stopped ahead of you, right in your path and your stomach dropped. What was he doing? When his door opened and Bellamy pointed a gun at the truck, you understood.

Bellamy hoped his plan would work, talking it over briefly with Clarke before he jumped out. His gun was pointed on the grounder, but he needed the shot. “Come on, Y/N. Come on, Baby.” He muttered to himself as he got ready.

The truck was still driving straight, your direction unmoving and as soon as the grounder saw Bellamy’s gun, he tried to turn the wheel. You threw your elbow into his nose, sending him away from you and Bellamy had his shot. The bullet pierced through the man’s head as you watched. Realizing the truck was still going, you slammed your foot onto the break, watching as Bellamy backed himself into the rover with Clarke in fear but you didn’t let it touch him as you brought the truck to a quick stop.

Once you got over the terrifying part about this situation, you couldn’t look away from Bellamy. You smiled at him, seeing his as well. Bellamy was relieved and proud at the same time seeing you drive the rover. He’d know you’d tell him they did all the work and you just managed to get kidnapped, and he was right, but he would still be proud of you.

---

Octavia was leading the mob out of the Ark, the people dragging Ilian behind her and once he was outside people began yelling at him, telling him he’s dead and supporting the mob. Monty and Kane followed the mob as well, keeping an eye on Octavia and Ilian.

“How do we stop this?” Monty asked Kane. Kane didn’t have an answer for him as Ilian was forced to the ground. Monty took off running to Octavia, hoping to break through to his friend. “Octavia, please don’t do this. You’re not a murderer.”

Octavia didn’t look as Monty as she mumbled and cocked her gun before aiming at Ilian’s head. “You’re wrong.”

Ilian looked up at her, right past the barrel of the gun. “Get it over with.”

From the door of the Ark, Jaha and Kane had a plan. “Sound the alarm, now.” Jaha spoke into his radio as Kane nodded at him. The alarm sounded in the camp, alerting everyone of the fake black rain.

“Black rain!” Kane yelled his lie as people started panicking. “Everyone get inside!” Kane and Jaha ushered everyone inside the ark until it was finally Kane, Jaha, Monty, and Octavia still holding a gun to Ilian’s head. Kane approached Octavia carefully. “Octavia. Put the gun down and come inside.” He said to her but she wouldn’t listen, her gun not leaving Ilian’s head. Kane tried something else. “They put Lincoln on his knees, too.” Octavia sucked in a breath as the memory of her deceased love filled her thoughts. “Pike stood right there where you’re standing when they put the gun against his head.”

Octavia’s hand started shaking as she thought back, remembering Lincoln falling to his knees, how he looked up to her, speaking his last words to her before Pike killed him. “I was there.” Her voice betrayed her as she let her eyes close and Lincoln’s face was all she could see.

When she opened her eyes again, her hand shook more and Kane tried again. “If you do this, you’re no better than he was.” Octavia couldn’t take holding her emotions anymore. She let them break free, dropping the gun to the ground as she sobbed. Kane jumped into comfort mood, holding her arm and mumbling assurances to her. “It’s okay. It’s okay Octavia.” Octavia ripped her arm from him as she continued to cry, needing to separate herself. She headed to the gate, starting to run as she heard Kane chase after her. “Octavia, wait! Where are you going?!” He yelled but Octavia didn’t stop running.

Kane didn’t chase her far, hoping she’s alright, but knowing she needed to be alone. He turned around in time to see Jaha cutting Ilian’s bonds and he asked Jaha what he thinks he’s doing. “Saving our people.” Jaha answered. “Same as you.” He pulled Ilian to his feet, whispering in his ear. “You should run.” Ilian nodded and groan as his feet started running, taking him away from the camp in the direction Octavia ran. “From the ashes we will rise.” Jaha spoke to Kane and Monty as they watched Ilian disappear, knowing the rest of Arkadia isn’t going to like the fact Ilian was gone.

---

After you and the fuel were saved, Clarke and Roan rode the rest of the way in the truck with the fuel as Bellamy and you rode in the Rover together. Bellamy hadn’t let go of your hand since you started the ride this time. Clarke and Roan rode in awkward silence before Clarke sighed. “You’re a good King Roan.” She said as Roan disagreed.

“A king who runs an errand while his people are at war in Polis.”

“This errand is the most important thing right now and you know that.” Clarke stopped him from hating on himself.

Roan still wasn’t at ease. “If we do save everyone, then what?” He asks, making Clarke think. “What happens once we’re all turned into Nightbloods? Do we just keep killing each other?” Clarke didn’t have enough time to answer before Bellamy spoke on the radio, telling them you’ve made it.

You jumped out of the rover once it came to a stop, looking out in the water. It was beautiful, the horizon meeting the sky seamlessly as you grinned. Roan offered to unload the fuel with Clarke giving her help as Bellamy approached you. He stood next to you, both of you staring out as he grabbed your hand.

“I’m gonna take the Rover back to camp.” He whispered as you broke out of your staring and furrowed your brows at him.

“You’re not coming with us?” you asked sadly, not wanting to leave him. He shook his head, his frown enough to tell you why. “It’s Octavia, isn’t it?”

“It’s pathetic, right?” He laughed at himself softly as you turned him to look at you. “She hates me but I keep coming back.”

“She doesn’t hate you, Bell. She’s your sister. She’s just,” you stopped yourself, trying to find the right words, “She’s just confused right now. She knows how special you are and how important you are. She’ll come back to you.”

Bellamy’s hand squeezed yours as you smiled, hoping he’ll see you were right. He hated thinking about leaving you, he wanted to stay with you and Clarke, but he knew he had to go back for his sister, unaware of the fact his sister just left the camp.

“You’ll come back to me, right?” His voice was quiet as you smiled and brought a hand up to his cheek, cupping it and running your thumb across it.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Blake.” You joked and Bellamy laughed, feeling slightly better in the promise you were coming back to him. You leaned up, pressing a kiss to his lips as he held your waist, pulling you into him. It was a goodbye kiss and an I’ll-see-you-soon kiss all in one, but one that was also broke apart by Clarke calling you both. You separated, sharing confused looks before jogging back to the rover.

Roan and Clarke were in the truck bed and moved one of the barrels, it wasn’t until it was done moving before you saw the arrow piercing through the bottom. “Trikru arrow.” Roan said before kicking the barrel out of the truck. It clattered to the ground as you looked up at an equally defeated and stressed Clarke. You had 10 barrels and you needed every last drop.

---

“Manual override.” Raven spoke to the computer as she grabbed the rocket’s controls.

“Manual Override engaged.” The computer told her and she let out a steady breath to hype herself up. “Landing pad within range at 600 feet.” She focused on the screen, watching as the water came in view, the rocket heading right towards it as the computer prepared her. “Brace for impact.” The rocket simulation ended once she hit the water. “Mission failed.” Yet Raven wouldn’t consider it failed just yet. “Exterior damage 15 %. Cargo destruction 0%. Fatality 0%.”

Raven was shocked as she read over the outcomes again. “We’re good.” She mumbled. She started to unbuckle herself, a smile spreading on her face as she spoke louder. “We’re good!” She repeated herself happily once more as she stepped out of the rocket. “Took every last drop of fuel, but I did it. I can put her down on the water just offshore.” Murphy and Luna approached her slowly with frowns. “We can survive.” When their expressions didn’t change, Raven’s stomach dropped. “What’s wrong?”

“Clarke just radioed. They lost a barrel.”

“What?” Raven gasped out.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered but Raven couldn’t hear him. She started sucking in for a breath, her head paining her as she clutched it. “Raven?”

Raven’s seizure caused her to collapse on the ground. Murphy took off running, calling for Abby as loud and as fast as he could. Luna fell to the ground as well, trying her best to protect Raven’s head before seeing her mouth starting to foam. “Raven, it’s going to be okay. It’s okay, Raven.”

10 barrels.

Make that 9 now.

A/N: If you hadn’t, be sure to check out the Bonus Chapter!

Tags are open!

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[indecisive-v]

NINJAMUFFIN DOING ANOTHER AMA ON TWITTER, HERE'S MORE SHIT FOR YA! keep in mind i'm just sharing the funkin related stuff, though i am including WAAAAY more than what i shared before 👍 go check out ninja's twitter profile for questions about stuff like ritz! questions in blue, answers in orange. if yall don't wanna read everything i MIGHT make a version of this post where i replace the answers with my own summaries of em (and if the questions are long, those too)

and here's a link to the ama tweet itself! dunno if it's still goin

Q: I figure the answer will be yes but do you have more plans to implement more guest appearances from people in the newgrounds community into FNF? Or are you all gunna focus on OG lore and stuff going forward

A: for guest appearances, I think we have always seen it as getting a healthy mix of both. PERSONALLY I'd like to lean towards having more OG stuff than guest stuff, BUT it's all a matter of what other boys think of that as well. I'm not the sole person working on game!

Q: Are you gonna release the full FNF game or are you gonna be releasing week after week? Like, are you gonna release week 8 or are we gonna wait some years until The Full Ass Game comes out?

A: Release plan for FNF right now is a few more updates or whatev to the 'demo' we have out right now, and then a long silence of probably no updates whatsoever until the full game is done (which will likely be a few years). That's partly why we made kickstarter for game.

Q: Hey so like, how much will Fnf cost after it's finished? And when will you ask the supporters what they want the game on?

A: It's all subject to change, but right now it prob gonna be standard 15-25$ lil steam indie game.

We will ask Kickstarter pledgers and whatnot what they want the game on SUPER close to when its released, to keep options open if we get onto anything like a console people want.

Q: 1. how was your day

2. are you releasing a week 8 song early like week 7, or are you goin full lockdown

A: I am doing GOOD today, and I think recently I've been good in general.

up to the mood, but so far we doing good about not having anything leak or whatev, so I think it'd be fun to have update come out with people not knowing what to expect at all. Build dat intrigue

Q: Will fnf ever get official plushies?? Seems like an untapped market

A: FNF plushies will prob happen some point, we have a lot of current merch stuff on our plates already though! (Mostly kickstarter type stuff, shirts, pins, posters, and all the physical OST stuff) Its a lot to sort out, but in time more and more stuff will happen. We r jus 4 boys!

Q: did you ever expect your game to blow up as it did? what was your first reaction to seeing it become super popular

A: FNF never had a humble moment, literally day 1 before the prototype even came out, the vid on twitter had like 5K likes overnight. Then when ludum dare version came out, it got 5K likes again, like it wasnt just a fluke. Was crazy, and def felt like somethin was different wit FNF

Q: Do you plan on getting other people to come in to help with the music? That seems like a lot of work to dump on one person, what with the erect mode and whatnot.

I guess the question could apply to all aspects of development. Will you be bringing on more people to help?

A: We definitely are getting help from other people. We are always keeping an eye on people for various different things. In terms of programming, already I've gotten 2 people (MtH and Geokureli) to help with certain Week 7 stuff (charting/polish, and loading stuff). Shit like dat

Q: Oh, also, will the Steam version be Workshop compatible? That'd really help streamline the process of downloading mods.

A: Steam version of FNF will likely NOT be Steam workshop compatible, because we want all the mods to NOT be spread out through different places. There WILL be modding support that is as streamlined as Steam workshop though. Mainly for non-steam versions of the game!

Q: Are there any chances that the game will have a physical release? Also any updates on a switch port? I remember one of you guys talking/joking about it.

A: Not impossible for FNF to get a physical release. We would want to see how far we could go with it though. I think it'd be super easy to do something wit people like LimitedRun games or whatev, but I think stuff like that can only go so far. I wanna see Funkin in mf Walmart!!!!!!

not that LimitedRun isn't going to be an option! Just we consider and pursue many different things! FNF release is years away, so we have time to think about everything. Whole mindset can be different just a few months from now.

Q: Out of curiosity, how are you dealing with all the popularity? It blew up so fast id barely be able to handle it if I was in your shoes.

A: The only way I've been able to handle it is having the other boys on the crew and being able to talk to them about all the overwhelmingness.

Part of it feels very lonesome, feels like NO ONE can come close to comprehending exactly how I'm feeling, except them. also other PALS!!!

Q: Do you own any of the bootleg FNF merchandise? Like any bootleg plushies or anything?

A: i dont, i genuinely think they r a waste of money, and I know any bootleg shit that gets made, we can prob go about and make it, and make it 100x cooler because we actually put effort into shit. bootleg shit just in it for the coin, so they aint gettin that from me

Q: How did you go about getting in contact with sr pelo for skid and pumps vocals?

A: Pelo i think was familiar and pals wit PhantomArcade a bit thru various Newgrounds things and collabs and whatnot.

pelo retweeted the first OG FNF posts first ever, and brought a LOT of attention to it. to pay him back, we put skid and pump in game! ask dave for more info prob

Q: what's the plan for having the full ass game open source if it's gonna cost money? couldn't people just download the source and compile the game for free?

A: when FNF is fully released, the full source code will be released as well.

the game will be DRM free so it will be way easier for people to redistribute the released/offical .exe instead of compiling it, so that's not the issue anyways. people will pay for things if they like it

Q: What are the chances of it getting on consoles like switch or Playstation, ps5 would definitely be my preferred way to play

A: it'd be a matter of hiring someone to build out backend stuff for those specific consoles. someone who knows their way around all the wacky code stuff, AND knows console hardware stuff. Then its just a matter of hittin up those console manufacturers (Sony, Microsoft, or Nintendo)

the CLOSEST one is SWITCH. pretty much all of that backend is already made, so it just a matter of gettin all that access and shit.

i think in any case though, there's a lot of NDA stuff required, i dunno how much we'd be able to talk about it even IF we get that stuf sorted

Q: any ideas of releasing it on epic store or another platform?

A: Right now, the only thing that is 100% confirmed and WILL happen is a Steam version, itchio version, and mobile versions on respective app stores. Other storefronts aren't out of the picture though, but we don't want to spread ourselves too thin with it.

Q: Will you continue using HaxeFlixel to make the rest of FNF?

A: yes, because it is what I'm the most technically proficient in, and generally is VERY flexible. just a matter of ME becoming a better coder. It's ALL open source, so if I need something done a certain way, either I can do it, or we can hire someone to do it.

Q: have you seen game theory's videos on your game yet and if so, what do you think about them? (not talking about his predictions because i dont want spoilers. i like mystery)

A: it is always good silly fun to watch the Game Theory vids about Funkin with some pals, and see what matpat thinks of the game. i lov the vids, but wish he used my face less! Or at least used a cuter pic of me like this one!!

Q: Ok so: What does the future of FNF look like to you?

A: future of FNF is a rhythm game that not only exceeds every expectation that people have of it, but subverts most expectations and conventions as well.

Q: Do you plan on retouching on older weeks once the game is fully out? Like reanimating sprites, redoing some charting, updating the background, etc

A: retouching and probably overhauling certain aspects is almost definitely gonna happen. Everything is fluid and can be changed (and should be changed when necessary). i dont think anything should be too attached to, especially this early on in development

Q: I honestly do not care if the answer to this is vague as hell to keep surprises and shit lol but… Since Week 7 was the closest we’ll get to a playable girlfriend (still bf controlling tho), do you have plans to make girlfriend playable in spin-off things or just freeplay?

A: wouldnt be out of the picture for a playable GF, i don't think we've had some hard thing AGAINST it. just a matter of what we want out of the game, and what sort of story or whatev we could do with that concept

Q: How do BF and GF manage to meet famous newgrounds characters (such as pico, tankman and the others to come) like is this all in one universe/ timeline or are they being brought in?

A: i think they are all just there existing. i think there's a lot of wacky things in other media that try to justify crossovers, like MULTIVERSE bullshit or TIMELINE shit, but i dunno, its like subspace emissary. Captain Falcon and Olimar from Pikmin just hang out. Shit like dat

disclaimer that all lore shit is in phantomarcade head pretty much and maybe there is wacky dimensions or somethin

Q: Will the game have dlc?

A: its not too unlikely that we'd have expansions of some sort, but i mean right now we plan on packing in as much as we can into base game, and trying to make that as pure as possible.

if there is ANY dlc, i would personally want it to be 100% free updates

Q: How did you meet Phantom Arcade, Kawai Sprite, and EvilSker? And what do you think about the community and its controversies?

A: me and phantomarcade been fukin around NG for years so years and years ago we naturally crossed paths and became pals

about 2 years ago i found kawaisprites music on NG, and started talkin wit him, made Ritz wit him and we fell in lov

and evilsk8r i met cuz of FNF!!!

quik elaborate on evilsk8r, wanted artist for gamejam FNF was for (ludum dare), and OG person i asked wasnt available, so he referred me to evilsk8r, who I have never met or talked to before ever.

[searchingwardrobes]

The Early Leaf’s a Flower: 2/11

I should have mentioned that the last chapter was kind of just an intro and the chapters going forward will be much longer. Here Emma and Killian get to know each other, but fate also starts being a cruel mistress to our precious babies. I did say this has a lot of angst, right?

I also took off the major character death tag because the only deaths in this will be canonical deaths of secondary characters or deaths of original minor characters. In short, Emma and Killian will have tragic lives, just like in canon. So buckle your seat belts and grab your tissues, folks . . .

Major thanks once again to the mods of the @captainswanbigbang for organizing the CSRT, and my crew of betas: @shippingtheswann, @optomisticgirl, and @distant-rose. This fic would be a mess without them. This chapter in particular owes massive thanks to @shippingtheswann . For those of you who read the original, there is more of Emma and Killian bonding as children thanks to her encouragement and input. 

Summary: She saw eyes that were the blue of the forget me not peering at her through the cracked door of the wardrobe. He saw hair as gold as the buttercups. Why does the wardrobe keep bringing them back to one another, if fate keeps tearing them apart? Or maybe fate has her reasons …

Rated: M for eventual sexy times, violence, canonical character death, and attempted rape

Trigger warnings: vague references to child abuse (physical and sexual), violence, and eventual positive Millian

Words: 4k and some change in this chapter

**Complete and updated every Monday** Also on Ao3

Emma: Age 10

The next morning Martha is beside herself with worry to find Lindsay gone. Emma lies and says she must have been asleep when the teenager left, and a lie has never made her feel so guilty. Children’s services are already there when the school bus comes for her and Tyler. Emma so badly wants to tell the social worker that it wasn’t Martha’s fault; that Martha is nice and she wants to stay here. But she’s too afraid of her lies to open her mouth.

At the end of the day, the school bus drops them off at Martha’s, and everything seems normal. Martha has even unpacked Emma’s suitcase. Inside the wardrobe are not only Emma’s meager shirts and jeans, but a couple of new outfits as well. There’s also a new pillow on the bed covered in bright flowers. A fluffy white bunny with a bright pink ribbon is propped up against the new pillow. Emma hugs it with delight.

She wants to tell Martha thank you for the things she got her when they gather around the dinner table, but for some reason the words won’t come.

Tonight, Emma’s Bible verse is “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning.”

Emma can’t sleep that night. All she can do is keep glancing at the wardrobe, wondering if it really opened last night, if the eyes were really there. Finally, Emma tells herself she’s being silly. She rolls away from the wardrobe, and pulls the covers up to her chin. She closes her eyes and wills herself to go to sleep. But then her heart stops. There it is. The creaking again. The sound is longer this time, as if the door is swinging open, and Emma gasps.

She whirls around and screams when she sees a dark shape through the half open wardrobe, blue eyes reflecting the moonlight as they gaze at her. The door flings open and Martha rushes in.

“Emma, sweetie, what is it?”

“There’s something in the wardrobe!” she cries, turning and pointing. But the door to the wardrobe is completely shut.

Martha chuckles as she brushes back Emma’s hair. “Oh, that’s just your imagination running away with you.” To prove her point, she goes to the wardrobe and flings it open. Emma yelps, expecting to see the blue-eyed monster standing there, but all she sees are her clothes lined up in a row.

Martha tucks her in and kisses her goodnight, but Emma knows the truth. Something is in that wardrobe, and tomorrow night, she won’t let it scare her.

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

The next morning, children’s services are there again, this time to pick up Tyler and take him to his aunt who lives in the next county. At dinner that night, Emma secretly loves that it’s just her and Martha. Her Bible verse reads, “A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born to comfort us in our sorrows. - Proverbs 17:17”

After Martha tucks her in that night, Emma crawls out from under the covers and pulls her knees up to her chest. She rests her chin on her knees and gazes intently at the wardrobe. Her heart is thumping wildly in her chest, but she won’t hide in fear. Not tonight. She isn’t imagining things; and she’ll prove it.

Sure enough, just as she thinks she might nod off where she sits, the door of the wardrobe creaks slowly open. Through the half open door, she first sees those blue eyes, the bluest she’s ever seen. Then the dark shape is there. Emma’s heart is pounding, and her breaths come fast as she stares at the shadow. Part of her wants to duck under the covers, and hide, but instead she closes her eyes and counts to ten until her breathing evens out. When she opens her eyes, the shadow is still there. Maybe it’s just one of Emma’s shirts? Her eyes playing tricks on her, like Martha said? Emma eases to the end of the bed slowly on her hands and knees, and when she reaches the edge, right next to the wardrobe she can almost make out the shape . . .

But then those sparkling blue eyes widen in fear and the shape shuffles backwards quickly, slamming the door shut. Inside, Emma hears a thud followed by desperate shuffling and gasping. Then another thud followed by the sound of crying. Emma jumps from the high bed and pads the three steps across the cold wood floors to the door of the wardrobe. She reaches up for the handle, hesitating only a moment before slowly pulling it open.

All she can see at first are ten small toes peeking out from beneath the clothes hanging in the wardrobe. Emma reaches up and pushes the clothes hangers aside. Now she can see a head of dark hair resting atop two skinny arms that are folded around two skinny legs. It’s just a little boy! A little boy curled up into a tight, frightened ball. His sniffling and crying echo in the small space.

“Who are you?” Emma asks.

The little boy lifts his head, revealing those blue eyes she has seen the last few nights, this time shining bright with tears. His dark brown hair is in need of a trim and falls across his forehead, hanging almost in front of his eyes. His thin face is sprinkled with freckles. He lifts his hand and rubs it across his nose.

“I’m Killian,” he tells her.

“I’m Emma.” She cocks her head as she studies him. “Why are you crying?”

He blushes at her question, and straightens up, pushing his legs forward. “I can’t get out the way I came,” he tells her simply.

Emma offers him her hand. He crawls forward, taking it, and she helps him hop down out of the wardrobe. He wears a nightshirt made of scratchy brown fabric that reaches his knees. He shivers and wraps his arms around himself.

“Come on, I’ll give you a blanket,” she tells him, hopping up on the bed. He follows her, and she wraps a giant patchwork quilt around the two of them.

“This is warm” Killian says, holding it close.

“Martha makes them for the children she takes care of,” Emma explains.

“Is she your grandmother?”

Emma shakes her head, “No. Just a lady who’s taking care of me. I never knew my mother.”

Killian’s head drops, “My mum died.”

“I’m sorry,” Emma frowns. “My parents left me when I was a baby.”

“My father left me,” Killian says, “that’s why I’m a slave now.”

“A slave!” Emma exclaims. Killian winces, and she feels bad. She hadn’t meant anything against him. “We learned in school that slavery ended,” she hastens to explain.

Killian shakes his head sadly. “Not where I come from.”

Emma worries that she really did hurt his feelings, especially when he keeps his eyes on the quilt and won’t look at her. Then the grumbling of his stomach breaks the silence.

“Are you hungry?”

He shrugs. “I’m always hungry.”

Emma understands that. This home and her last one had plenty of food, but there have been others . . .

“Come on,” she says, jumping up from the bed, “let’s get a snack.”

Killian keeps the quilt wrapped around himself when he slides off the bed to follow her. She slowly inches the door open and motions him to follow her as she tiptoes into the hallway. Emma pauses at Martha’s door; she can hear the elderly woman snoring on the other side.

“You know,” she whispers to Killian, “I think Martha would let you stay.”

“No!” he protests in a loud whisper, his eyes going wide.

“But then you wouldn’t have to be a slave anymore. And she’s really nice.”

“I have a brother,” Killian says. “I can’t leave him.”

Emma’s face falls, but she understands. If she had any family, any at all, she would stay with them. She would never let them go. So instead of reaching for Martha’s doorknob, she grasps Killian’s hand through the quilt and tugs him down the hallway.

The linoleum is cold beneath Emma’s feet as they tiptoe into the empty kitchen. She reaches for the lightswitch, and when the fluorescent bulbs flicker to life, Killian gasps.

“What . . . what kind of magic are these lights?”

Emma giggles. “It isn’t magic. It’s lightbulbs, silly.”

“Oh,” Killian says in wonder, but he’s barely paying attention to her. The quilt slips from his shoulders and to the floor as he wanders around the room, wonder upon his face. “It’s all so clean . . . and shiny. This is your galley?”

“Uh . . . I don’t know what that is, but Martha does clean alot.”

Killian stops in front of the white refrigerator. He tentatively reaches out a hand and pulls the door open. The cold air causes him to startle back.

“It’s so cold!” he cries out.

“Shh!” Emma warns him.

“Sorry,” Killian whispers.

Emma tilts her head. “You’ve never seen lightbulbs or a fridge? Are you a time traveler or something? I saw that in a movie once.”

His brow furrows. “What’s a movie?”

“It’s . . . like a . . . pictures. That move . . . and talk.” She shrugs, not sure how else to describe a movie.

“I’ve never heard of magic like this,” Killian tells her in wonder. “I don’t know what time travel is, but this is definitely a different realm.”

Emma’s about to ask him what he means by realm, but then both their stomachs growl at the same time, and they both laugh. She grabs the carton of milk, closes the refrigerator, then carries it to the table.

“There’s glasses next to the sink,” she tells Killian, pointing. While he gets the glasses, she gets the Oreos out of the pantry. Martha had let her have two with a glass of milk when she did her homework. Something else Emma only thought happened on TV.

Emma doesn’t bother with plates, just sets the package of cookies in the middle of the table. Killian carefully pours the milk.

“I haven’t had milk since Papa left,” he tells her, “and never this cold.”

“You’re definitely a time traveler,” Emma states as she slides the plastic tray of cookies from the package. She takes out a cookie and hands it to Killian, then takes one for herself. “I’m gonna guess you never had an Oreo, then. People eat ‘em different ways, but I like to dunk em.”

She plunks her cookie in the milk, and Killian imitates her.

“I like to leave it in the milk for a bit so it gets real gooshy.”

Killian watches her intently, and she smiles. Then she pulls out her cookie and eats the half that’s soaked with milk. Killian follows suit, and his eyes brighten with delight.

“Mm, that’s good!” he turns the cookie and eats the rest without milk. “It’s good crunchy, too.”

Their only conversation for a few minutes is smiles and laughter as Emma teaches him all the ways to eat an Oreo: twisting it in half and licking the cream, taking bites followed by sips of milk, quick dunks. Then they both get a bit silly, crumbling the cookies in the milk and drinking it all up. Before they know it, the entire package is gone.

“Oh no!” Killian explains. “Will you get in trouble?”

Emma frowns as she brushes cookie crumbs from the table. “I don’t think so. I mean, Martha probably didn’t want me to eat the whole pack, but she’s too nice to hit me or anything.”

Killian nods, his shoulders relaxing. Emma props her chin on her hand and taps her lips as she studies him.

“This whole thing reminds me of a book I read,” she tells him. “These kids went through a wardrobe to a magic land with dwarves, a witch, and talking animals and stuff.”

Killian retrieves the quilt from the floor and wraps himself up in it again. “I’ve never seen any talking animals, but I’ve seen dwarves in the Misthaven port. And there’s a witch in the Glowerhaven port who sells potions and stuff.”

He says it so casually, and her jaw drops. “You live in a place that has magic?”

“Of course,” Killian says before finishing the last of his milk. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth. “You do too. The lights, the magical cold box, and the pictures that move.”

Emma shakes her head. “That’s not magic, that’s . . . um, inventions or whatever. Like in school we learned about Thomas Edison inventing the lightbulb.”

“Oh,” Killian said, “so people don’t cast spells or anything like that?”

“No.”

“And there are no dwarves or witches?”

“No. And if you told anyone you saw that stuff, they’d call you crazy!” Emma leaned forward eagerly. “What else magical have you seen?”

“Well, we see mermaids a lot -”

“Mermaids!”

“Uh huh, and Cook says he saw a kraken once.” Killan shudders. “I don’t ever want to see one of those monsters.”

“It sounds so exciting!”

“Not really,” Killian says, “most days at sea are long and boring.”

His eyes flutter and he shivers under the quilt, so Emma jumps up and grabs his hand again. She leads him back to her room where they climb back into the warm bed. It’s very late, and she knows they should probably try and sleep, but they keep finding things to talk about.

Suddenly, Emma’s eyes have drifted shut and her head has dropped to Killian’s shoulder, when a shaft of light falls across the bed. Emma and Killian turn their heads in surprise towards the wardrobe. The light is unusually bright as it falls through the open door.

“That’s weird,” Emma comments, her brow furrowing.

The two of them scramble down from the bed to peer inside the wardrobe.

“Woah,” Emma breathes, for no longer does she see her clothes or the back of the wardrobe. Instead, she sees a room of wood, rocking gently back and forth. Barrels and boxes fill the room, and men and boys sleep in hammocks hanging from the beams of the ceiling. Everything is damp, and Emma can smell salt and something musty. The air blowing through feels warm and wet against her face.

“That’s the hold of the ship,” Killian tells her.

He scrambles inside the wardrobe, but Emma grasps his arm, “Wait, you can’t go yet!”

He shakes his head, “My brother will worry. We’re all each other has.”

“Will you come back tomorrow night?” She asks, tentatively biting her lower lip.

Killian grins brightly. “Aye, lass.”

He turns to go, but then seems to hesitate. He spins back towards her, his face flaming red, and pecks a quick kiss against her cheek. Then the light is shining so bright in the wardrobe that it blinds Emma and she has to look away. Then Killian is gone, and Emma stands there with her hand to her cheek.

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

The next morning at breakfast, Martha seems different. Her eyes seem distant, and her words make no sense. Then half her smile falls down unnaturally, and she slumps against the table. Emma shouts her name, trembling all over, then dashes for the phone to call 911.

That evening, a social worker stands in Martha’s living room waiting for Emma to pack. Emma pulls her suitcase from the wonderful bed covered in Martha’s bright quilt. She grabs the bunny and buries her face in the soft fur. Her eyes catch the wardrobe, and she frowns. Killian won’t understand when she’s not here. She takes a deep breath and before she can change her mind, she dashes to the wardrobe and sets the little bunny inside.

When she walks out of the room, she can’t help giving the wardrobe one last look over her shoulder.

Killian: Age 10

Killian can scarcely believe that the fates have smiled upon him by sending him the wardrobe, nor that he’s had the honor of making a friend like Emma.

He also can’t believe he kissed her. He’s not even sure what came over him. His face had burned so that he feared his cheeks would be reddened permanently. Her cheek had been so soft, and her hair had tickled his nose. She was so pretty -

“Killian!” his brother hisses. Liam punctuates his reprimand by flicking Killian with the rag he’s using to swab the deck.

“Ow, what was that for?”

“What is with you, little brother? The captain will give you lashes again if he catches you mooning.”

“I’m not mooning,” Killian grumbles as he concentrates on scrubbing at the fish blood staining the slick boards.

The brothers fall silent as the ship’s captain and first mate walk past. Killian’s back throbs with pain, and he trembles from head to foot remembering the last time he’d been caught daydreaming. He stares at the stains upon the deck, scrubbing as if his life depends on it. The tension across his shoulder blades don’t lessen until the captain heads to his quarters to go over navigation with the first mate.

Killian glances up at his brother. Not only is Liam two years older, he’s taller, broader, and stronger. He also doesn’t go around daydreaming and earning himself lashes.

“Liam,” Killian finally dares ask, “have you . . . kissed many girls?”

Liam’s eyes widen as he lifts his gaze, then he arches his brow and seems to be holding back a teasing grin. Killian pretends to concentrate even harder at his menial task.

“Why, Killy? Has a mermaid flopped on deck lately?”

“We were just in port a month ago,” Killian grumbles.

“Aye,” his brother chuckles, “and you spent the entire time running around on the sand with the other village boys like the child you are.”

“It’s just a bloody question!”

“Okay, okay, calm down,” Liam capitulates. “Truth be told? No, I haven’t. I’ve seen just as many lasses as you have.”

“What about that one girl in Glowerhaven?”

“I . . . well . . . “

It’s Killian’s turn to laugh as his brother’s face turns red and he stumbles over his words.

“I was just leaning in when her father showed up and chased me off.”

Killian’s laughter rings louder, and he falls over, holding his middle. Liam scowls and flings his rag again with a snap. Killian frowns and rubs at the new welt on his arm.

“Guess you can’t help me then,” Killian snaps. He knows it’s immature, but he can’t help it - he sticks his tongue out at his brother.

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

Killian stands nervously in front of the wardrobe that night, smoothing his hair down. The bosun always greases his hair when he goes to court the farmer’s daughter in Arendelle, so Killian has swiped a little from his trunk. The bosun also likes to take his lass flowers, so Killian grips a handful of wilted buttercups in his hand. They had been fresh when they were picked days ago at port. He hopes the captain doesn’t notice them missing from the vase in his quarters - Killian only swiped three.

He’s also hoping to steal another kiss from Emma tonight, and this time he’ll aim for her lips instead of her cheek. Killian’s a little nervous that she’ll slap him, though. Emma seems like the type of girl who just might. It’s one of the things he likes about her, actually. He lets out a deep breath and opens the door of the wardrobe.

Killian cocks his head and frowns when he sees the fluffy white plaything sitting inside the wardrobe. He pulls it out - it’s a stuffed rabbit with the softest, whitest fur he’s ever seen. It’s glass eyes are so bright they shine. Around the toy’s neck is a silky pink ribbon. He sets the rabbit down and climbs into the wardrobe. He slowly opens the door.

“Emma?”

The room is eerily quiet and empty. Emma is nowhere to be seen. He crawls down out of the wardrobe and looks all around at the large, strange room. The quilt he and Emma had shivered under is folded on the bed, yet a foreboding wind seems to blow through the entire house.

“Emma?”

Killian walks around, looks under the bed, behind a dresser. He stops at the door to the room, tentatively reaching out to touch the door knob. He’s just about to open it when a shaft of light shines behind him from the wardrobe door. His heart ricochets wildly in his chest as he dashes back to the magical piece of furniture. He has no idea what might happen if he gets stuck in Emma’s world, nor can he bear the thought of being forever separated from his brother. He drops the buttercups as he dashes across the room, accidentally crushing them beneath his bare feet.

He scrambles back into the wardrobe, tucks the rabbit under the crook of his arm, and hops out of the door on the other side. As he lands back in the ship’s hold, a small rectangle of paper flutters to the floor. He picks it up and reads it, thankful for once that Liam had nagged him to continue his studies after mother had passed. Emma must have left the toy for him. Maybe the note is from her!

“A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born to comfort us in our sorrows. - Proverbs 17:17”

Killian knows what a proverb is, but he’s never heard this one before. It must be common in Emma’s realm. His heart sinks that the words aren’t Emma’s own, but he takes comfort that she chose to leave her toy. He also hopes she meant that she was his friend and that she would never forget him.

After all, Liam is his brother, and he always comforts him. Just like the proverb said.

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

Killian jolts awake from a nightmare. He blinks his eyes to banish the images of blood splashing onto the deck, his brother crying, the fire across his back. His scars, though healed, still itch and pull at times. He reaches around to touch them gently, half expecting to find blood on his fingers. His body shakes as he releases a ragged breath. Just a dream.

He reaches beneath his itchy blanket and feels the soft toy Emma had given him a week ago. He pulls it out, holds it close, and breathes in the pleasant scent of it. Things in Emma’s realm are so clean and smell so lovely. How do they manage it? He tucks the plaything beneath his cheek, relishing the way it cools his skin. He hasn’t dared let anyone, even Liam, see the bunny. They would ridicule him for sure. He already receives more than his share of mockery for being the youngest on board; he certainly isn’t going to give the crew further reason to torment him.

Killian fingers the silky ribbon as more pleasant dreams fill his mind of comfortable beds, cozy quilts, and Emma’s smile. He’ll hide the bunny beneath his blankets before dawn, but for now, no one needs to know how he takes comfort from it.

Unfortunately, his nightmares have worn him out more than he had realized, and it’s long past sunrise when he blinks his eyes open again. He opens them to the sound of laughter.

“Look at the baby with his poppet!”

“What a pretty ribbon you have there, Killy-Cat.”

Killian shrinks in on himself at the nickname and the word “pretty.” The man adds kissing sounds to the insult, and fear swells in Killian’s chest that he might snatch him and drag him behind the supply barrels again.

A beefy hand reaches out, and Killian recoils. The sailor snatches the rabbit, thankfully, and not the boy. Killian’s relief is short-lived, however, when the men start tossing the rabbit to each other, mocking their little cabin boy with it.

“Stop!” Killian shouts, jumping from his hammock.

The sailors tease him, dangling the rabbit just out of his reach. He jumps up and races around, but he can never grab a hold of the toy. Panic grips him as he realizes how much he wants to hold onto his only tie to Emma. The wardrobe has disappeared again just as mysteriously as it had appeared, and that rabbit is all he has left of his only friend besides his brother.

One of the men grab Killian around the waist and toss him over his shoulder. Guffawing, they all head up the ladder out of the hold. Killian kicks at his captor, demanding he let him go. Where is Liam?

“Want your poppet, little girl?” Cook teases, dangling the rabbit over the railing.

“No, don’t!” Killian screams, which only make the men laugh harder.

“How bad do you want it?” the man who holds him asks, and before Killian can process what is happening, the brute of a man is dangling him over the railing. He holds Killian by the back of his nightshirt, and laughs as the boy kicks and flails.

“Let him go!”

Relief washes over Killian at the sound of his brother’s voice. But the huge sailor just knocks Liam aside as if he were no bigger than a gnat.

“What the bloody hell is this!” another voice thunders, and suddenly Kilian is being deposited with a thud back onto the deck. The crew scrambles to look more presentable as the captain marches forward, his face crooked and red with anger. “Ye scallywags have work to be doin’!”

“We was just teasin’ the cabin boy is all,” Cook explains.

“He got a poppet looks like, from the last port,” the bosun puts in. “It just tickled us, and I suppose we got carried away.”

“A poppet?” the Captain barks, and Liam steps in front of his little brother surreptitiously.

“See,” Cook says, tossing the toy to the Captain.

The Captain looks the white rabbit over, that permanent scowl that he always wears making it impossible to tell what he’s thinking. “Cabin boy!” he barks.

On trembling legs, Killian steps forward, his head down.

“Where did you get this?”

“A - a friend gave it to me.”

Killian is shocked when the back of the Captain’s hand connects with his cheek. The force of it sends his head snapping to the side. He bites down on his lip to keep from crying.

“Don’t lie to me, boy. First of all, no one on my crew is to be pilfering anything when we make port. It only brings trouble down on us all.”

There is a long, heavy silence as the man steps closer to Killian. He grabs Killian roughly by the front of his nightshirt and hauls him up. He shakes Killian until the boy sees stars.

“And second, this ship is no place for babies or little girls. If that’s what you are, then perhaps I’ll just keep your brother and drop you at an orphanage in the nearest port.”

“No!” Liam cries. “Don’t separate us, please sir!”

The captain drops Killian back to the deck with a thud, then unceremoniously tosses the stuffed toy overboard. When he turns to head back to his quarters, he stops and spits on the Jones boys.

“Then tell your brother to grow up.”

Tagging: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @teamhook @bethacaciakay @let-it-raines @welllpthisishappening @wellhellotragic @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @courtorderedcake @branlovestowrite @hollyethecurious @vvbooklady1256 @profdanglaisstuff @carpedzem @ekr032-blog-blog @jennjenn615 @tiganasummertree @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @spartanguard @shireness-says @scientificapricot @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @sherlockianwhovian @snidgetsafan @ohmakemeahercules @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @nikkiemms@delirious-latenight-laughs​

[somefantasticplace]

THE SECRET LIFE OF BOB

On living in a homeless hostel, a year of paralysis and the Hell's Angel who stole his girlfriend

"Do you want me to tell you the truth?" asks Bob Mortimer. "It’s just that most people want me to lie and talk nonsense to them." Generally, people like to assume that he is a funny little fellow wearing a bra and clutching an oversized frying pan all year round.

More than anyone else who has spent so much time on our television screens in the last ten years, the off-duty Bob Mortimer is an impenetrable character. He has always maintained a lower public profile than his cohort Vic Reeves and, such is the fantastical nature of his on-screen persona, it is almost impossible to consider the life he leads outside it. On the telly, his every move - whether he is lowered from a ceiling impersonating Liberace or mock-scolding his comic partner - is able to reduce an audience to hysterics. There’s something about the every movement of his diminutive frame that is unfathomably amusing . It’s much the same when he’s off duty; his face is boyish and cheeky, his eyes permanently excited and his shouty laugh an almost constant accompaniment to his words.

He’s surprised but willing when he’s asked to tell the truth. And, remarkably, he maintains his affable demeanour as he begins to recount it. For the 30 years before he was famous, he occupied a world characterised by drinking, violence, anarchy, homelessness and incapacitating illness. It was out of those often dark and disturbing experiences that Mortimer grew to become the self effacing, likeable and outstandingly funny 40 year old he is today.

"We got the shit kicked out of us"

A childhood in Middlesbrough

Bob Mortimer’s home was made to breed recklessness: there were four brothers and no father. His Dad died when he was six and his Mum was left to discipline the rabble as best she could. "She tried her best to be strict. My eldest brother was a rocker and the next one down was a mod. Ours was the house that all their mates would come round to because there was no dad."

While his troublesome siblings misbehaved on the streets of Middlesbrough, the young Bob would occupy his entire time with football. "I’d play all day long," he says. "I wanted to be a footballer and I went for the apprenticeship with Middlesbrough FC. I was in their under-15 team. At the end of the season you were dragged into the office to be told if you were going to be taken on and I wasn’t. It was a shock because I was good - one of the best in my town. But you don’t realise what a big world it is and how many other good players there are."

His passion for the club was therefore confined to watching from the terraces. He started in the early Seventies, when hooliganism was approaching its golden age, and developed a strange fascination for the violence that surrounded him. He spray-painted the words "Boro Boot Boys" on the wall of Barclays bank in Middlesbrough town centre, but he became less of an enthusiastic observer after experiencing yobbery close up: "When I was 14 we were at Leeds and suddenly found ourselves surrounded - they knew we were ‘Boro. We got the shit kicked out of us. I was running away when I looked back and saw three of the Leeds fans kicking the shit out of my brother. So I ran back to try and help but this little boy held out a coke bottle at about head height and it smacked me one. I managed to jump in and had quite a good impact at first but after that we were done. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking of. My brother was in hospital for weeks."

"I was a Libertarian Anarchist"

Becoming politically aware in Brighton

Being far more cautious about avoiding trouble, Mortimer went on to follow ‘Boro to 63 league grounds. It’s a statistic he reels off with childish enthusiasm. Remarkably, he continued his devotion even after leaving his home-town. When it came to choosing a university, the young Bob headed as far away from home as he could. "Quadrophenia had just come out and I loved the album," he says. "So I went down for my interview at Sussex University, I went and stood on Brighton beach and thought to myself ‘I’ve got to fucking come here.’ "

It was a whimsical decision that was to have a distinct impression on his character: "I’d just been in Middlesbrough playing football and all of a sudden I was studying stuff about racism which really opened my eyes. Until then I probably was a racist in so far as I just thought everything was fine. In Middlesbrough we had an Asian community but I never thought of them having anything to complain about. But once my eyes were open I developed that youthful passion about certain issues. I was a Libertarian anarchist. We chained ourselves to things and disrupted exams . It’s a load of wank really but it’s worthwhile on a personal level."

The first few months at Sussex were unhappy enough to tempt him to drop out. He remembers with distinct embarrassment the occasion on which he arrived at a law society ball, dressed in his Middlesbrough shirt and Doc Martens, to be confronted by a sea of chuckling Southern-types in tuxedos.

He found solace in the football team, of which he became a member and was coached by current Leicester City manager Martin O’Neil. While his new found politics provided a further focal point he didn’t become entirely serious. Drunk, he rampaged through the streets of Brighton one fateful evening putting in the front windows of two shops. "The police turned up straight away and all I could do was shrug, admit to it and say ‘Sorry, I’m pissed.’ " Threatened with a charge, his university tutor intervened and Mortimer was let off with an enormous fine. He spent years paying it off, but keeping his criminal record clean was essential to the career he was about to embark upon.

"I lived in a homeless hostel"

Hard times in South London

"I saw an advert that said: ‘Take on the government with Southwark Council.’ So I took the job as a lawyer." The newly idealistic Mortimer had taken a masters degree in welfare law and embraced the crusade against homelessness and degradation in one of the country’s most deprived boroughs. Ironically, it was he who ended up without a home. "I had nowhere to stay in London so the Council said that I could stay in their homeless hostel until I found somewhere. I ended up staying there for four years."

He admits he was shambolic in his day-to-day approach to working, but he was relatively successful as a lawyer. " I did a very good job of playing the system," he says with pride. "I could more or less guarantee people that could re-house them, which is what they wanted. They were living in dumps and I could get them out. It really changed their lives."

His successes were largely due to dogged approach to the job. This was an attribute he was to apply to his future career. "Bob is a worrier," says the Fast Show’s Charlie Higson, a long time friend and colleague who has recently directed Mortimer in Randall & Hopkirk (Deceased). "Whereas Jim [Vic to us] has an unswerving faith in everything they do, Bob studies tapes of their shows and takes extensive notes. He’s learnt a great deal from doing that, though."

Bob’s happy memories of legal success are harshly offset by the hardship he experienced during the same period. " I woke up one morning with rheumatoid arthritis," he says. "I went to lift my head but couldn’t. Then my mouth went. I had to drink through a straw and be dressed and bathed for about nine months." His girlfriend of the time nursed him through the illness in the confines of the hostel. Although there is an obvious downturn in his usually cheery expression, Mortimer recounts his experience with surprising matter-of-factness. Eventually, he found the right combination of pills to relieve the pain and return to work but the problem has forced him to abandon his love of playing football forever. "I just can’t do it, so I don’t think about it," he asserts briskly.

"I was pissed out of my head"

Meeting Vic Reeves

Work as a solicitor was arduous and poorly paid, but Mortimer ploughed on: after moving to a private practice he got 70 per cent of his 1500 clients acquitted. "I enjoyed being a solicitor at the beginning," he says. "But after a while the appeal tails off a bit and I was such a conservative fella that I didn’t think there was anything else I could do.  I just though ‘Well, this is it for the next 30 years.‘ "

It took a dramatic course of chance events to redirect him. "I was living in this hostel with my girlfriend. I came home one dinnertime and found this Hell’s Angel shagging her. I was terribly upset. I was standing there in my suit because I’d just come from court, so I looked a right c***. I just told her to get out."

That evening, he was keen to drown his sorrows but had few friends in London. In the end, he looked up a vague acquaintance from Middlesbrough. "I’d never really been in touch with him but I was desperate so I gave him a ring. He said he was going to see his mate do a comedy show and I said, ‘All right, I’ll come.’ " The mate turned out to be Jim Moir who was performing as Vic Reeves for the first time that night at the Goldsmith’s Tavern in London’s New Cross. "It was just Jim and five of his mates in the room upstairs. There wasn’t much to it - everyone got up and did something, it was just arseing about." Bob describes himself as being "painfully shy" and implies that it was only the circumstances that had brought him to the pub that night that encouraged him to get involved in the comedy. Almost every week, word of mouth would cause the size of the audience at the show to double. In the end, it moved downstairs into the pub and Bob became more and more involved.

If his recently-scorned mood had encouraged him to perform on his first night with Vic, how did he overcome his shyness in front of a packed boozer? "I was pissed out of my head," he admits. "I can’t believe I did it. But they were nice people in the audience and they would come up and talk to me afterwards. There must have been something in that that tempted me to carry on. Jim is naturally quite outgoing but I don’t know what the fuck I was doing on the stage. Getting a reaction was quite intoxicating for a man who had always been shy." Vic refutes this, claiming: "I’ve never thought of Bob as particularly shy. But there was something in both our upbringings that discouraged us from ever parading ourselves like peacocks."

Bob still describes these early shows as the funniest things he and his partner have ever produced and, as crowds of 250 people began to fill the venue, television executives began to show an interest. "The show taking off was such a gift," he reflects. "I was so conservative that, even if someone had offered me another job when I was a solicitor, I would have said no. But the one thing no-one can resist is the offer to go on telly. Even when we got the offer to do a series I made sure I still had a job to go back to. In fact, I only took twelve weeks off work." Things were suddenly changing in all aspects of his life. Just before his television debut, he returned from a break in Middlesbrough to find the hostel burned down by the man who lived in the room below: "He didn’t think anyone was in but there was and they had to jump from the top to escape," Bob remembers.

He was re-housed by the council to a flat in a Peckam tower block. He stayed throughout the first two series of Vic Reeves Big Night Out on Channel Four, and when the BBC poached him and Vic (in what must have been a lucrative deal), he still remained in the flat. In fact, he was there for two whole series of The Smell Of Reeves and Mortimer, by which time he had become one of the country’s most high profile performers. Why? "It was nothing more than deep-rooted laziness," he confesses. "Eventually I bought a place up the road. But when I was still in the flat I remember Lloyd Grossman wanted to do a Through The Keyhole with me. It would have been funny because it was a real cockroach infested place, but I resisted the temptation."

"There's always one that wants to hit you"

Growing up

Today, Bob Mortimer is slightly drunk. "I tried absinthe for the first time last night and I haven’t really recovered," he reveals. His stocky figure is unusually bedraggled as he makes himself a cup of tea and recounts the proceedings of his night out, during which Vic showed him his large collection of photographs of dog excrement. His experimentation with absinthe was the first drinking he has done in a full six months. In fact, he says, he tries to avoid pubs altogether nowadays: "There’s always one when you’re just having a drink and they say: ‘Who do you think you are?’ And they want to hit you. And we’re not fighting men. I mean, unless we’re out with [Mark] Lamarr. He’s handy - is that the word?"

Mortimer embarks on yet another change of direction in the forthcoming BBC series Randall & Hopkirk (Deceased). In it, he and Vic make their debuts as straight(ish) actors. "Bob was a bit embarrassed at first," says Reeves. "He had a couple of weeks where he was coached for straight acting, but I don’t think he needed it. He does worry about things, like what show we should do next and what direction we should take. I just let him work it out in his own mind before I talk to him about it." Behind the playful, casual exterior, there appears to be an intensity borne out of the fact that he truly treasures his career.

Last year, he announced an intention to stop working for up to three years in order to spend more time with his family. Since filming Randall & Hopkirk, Bob has immersed himself in a long spell of doing nothing. "I enjoy it because it’s like when you used to nick off school when you were a kid," he enthuses. "And I know, eventually, I’ll be going back to work." He is also occupied with his two young children. "Fatherhood is a massive turning point. But it surprises me how many people say they enjoy it from the off. I mean, my memories of the first two years with both my kids is of not sleeping - passing my girlfriend on the stairs and saying ‘We’ve got to get through this.’ " He now sees fatherhood as providing a sense of purpose in life, as well as being a bit of a laugh. "Lying kids on the bed, putting adult clothes over them and drawing ‘tasches on them is fucking hilarious!" he says. "I remember when our plumber Ken Fowler came round to fix the boiler. My boy was sitting in a highchair wearing a vest and we’d drawn a big tattoo on his arm that said ‘I love Ken Fowler’." Hysterics ensue at the memory of the plumber’s bafflement.

Indeed, Mortimer is happy to get his kicks as a family man nowadays. The fact that he was 30 by the time he embarked upon a life in showbiz meant that he had a more considered approach to the trappings of his success. "Me and Jim are quite susceptible to ‘mad for it’ areas," he says. "But I suspect that, had it all been available to us when we were 18 not 30, it would have blown our minds. I think, being older, you have the perspective so you try and be polite and helpful. You see some young comics acting line c***s, like they’re a big deal. I’m not saying that I wouldn’t have been like that myself at 18, but you do feel like telling them how lucky they are." Perhaps more than anyone in his position, Mortimer is well aware of what the alternatives are.

Later

April 2000

[therollingstonys]

Last Stop Before Malibu

A very happy birthday to my best friend and co-mod, Tina!! Hope you enjoy love!! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve leans against the side of the building, watching as cars flow by, the stench of diesel heavy in the air and thick in the back of his throat. For many the travel day is ending as the sun fades, but for Steve, his day is just beginning. 

 He’s had a few customers already, nothing too fancy, just bathroom blow jobs and handies—nothing that will pay the bills though. He’s hungry and there’s not much left in his fridge, or his bank account, and the fifty bucks in his back pocket won’t do much to pay the rent at the shitty motel he calls home. 

 Shoving a hand under the rim of his ballcap he runs a hand through his sweat damp hair, nose wrinkling at the sensation—he could use a shower despite the short time he’s been out here. It’s August in the desert and that means sneakers melting on hot asphalt and two showers a day—not that he can afford to use that much water a day. 

 So he’s hot, and sweaty and maybe a little dehydrated, but he can’t waste his hard earned cash on a drink—not till he’s made at least two hundred bucks. 

 An eighteen wheeler rolls in and Steve looks up, brows lifting when a woman with red hair and curves for miles hops out. She gases up the rig and is joined a few moments later by a man with dark hair and the oddest looking prosthetic arm Steve’s ever seen—he didn’t know they came in metal. 

 The man eyes him hungrily when he strides past into the gas station and when he comes back a few minutes later he smirks at Steve on his way past. The couple stands by the rig, shooting him looks before they approach and it’s the woman who does the talking, head tilted at an angle as she studies him. 

 “How much for us both?” she asks softly, gaze trailing down his body. 

 “Two hundred.”

 It’s said fast, greedily—he’s had others ask for a threesome before and most don’t mind shelling out a little more, so he hopes that holds true for these two. They look well dressed and clean, a lot better than he’s dealt with in the past. 

 The woman nods and smirks, “Two hundred it is.” She glances around and her gaze lands on the nearby motel, “There,” she murmurs, jerking her chin toward it, “Get a room and we’ll meet you.”

 Steve nods and waits till they start to walk away to hurry over to the motel. He pushes the reception door open and is engulfed in cool air that smells like coolant from the machine vibrating under the window. 

 He smiles at Wanda and baby Peter, “Hey guys,” he says with a finger wave to the little boy, grinning when he laughs and claps happily. “Can I get a room?” he asks Wanda, sliding her a twenty when she hands over a key wordlessly. 

 She knows how he makes his money and doesn’t judge—her dead husband was the one who found her on the street, strung out and beat up by a bad john. He brought her home, gave her a new life and a baby and then died a month after Peter was born—heart attack. 

 Steve nods his thanks and waves goodbye to Peter, his laughter bright as the door swings shut behind him. Hot air engulfs him like a furnace and he shifts uncomfortably as the fabric of his shirt sticks to the small of his back. 

 He unlocks the room door and steps inside just as the eighteen wheeler pulls up. He makes eye contact with the couple and nods before closing the door, pulse skipping faster as he debates stripping and prepping himself. 

 Some clients like to do it themselves, others prefer it to be done already—and he’s not sure which these two will be. 

 The door swings open behind him and he turns, jeans half undone and hanging from his hips, to find the couple watching him hungrily. The woman saunters forward and circles him, slides a hand over his back and down to grab his ass and he shivers at the touch, pushes back into it a little.

His gaze is locked with the man’s, dark and hungry and watchful and it makes his gut clench with need. There’s a soft laugh from behind him and then a tongue swipes up the side of his neck, a hum of pleasure following it and then soft lips and softer words brush his ear.

 “Oh honey, we’re gonna have such a good time.”

 Steve emerges from the hotel room hours later, stiff, sore and tired. He shuffles down to his room and pushes inside, swaying with how exhausted he is. Stripping his sweaty clothes off takes more energy than it should and he almost cries when his shirt gets stuck on his ear for a minute and his hip bangs into the shitty Formica countertop of the bathroom sink, but then he’s free and naked and stumbling into the shower. 

 He stays in longer than he normally would, letting the water get fully hot instead of just the chilly blast he spends too little time under in the mornings. Leaning against the wall of the shower, he closes his eyes and lets the heat sink into his skin and ease away the aches.

 The woman—Natasha she’d called herself—and her partner James had used his body for hours before none of them could go anymore and his body feels every inch the used and wrung out thing it now is. 

 He’d lost count of how many times he came—the last two had left him sobbing, his cock raw feeling and his prostate so sensitive it hurt. He’s covered in hickies and scratches and his ass aches and it all feels so damn good that if he wasn’t half asleep and wrung dry, he’d be hard. 

 He stumbles out of the shower when the water turns cold and wipes a towel over his skin before flopping onto the bed, groaning as his aching body protests. The red numbers on his alarm read 12:53am and he stares at them till his lids droop and he sinks into dreamless slumber, drooling into his lumpy pillow. 

 A wad of cash lays on the bedside table, thick and smelling faintly of strawberry lube—$350–a night well spent and money hard earned.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Steve’s fridge is full, his phone paid up for another month and his room is paid up for two weeks and he still has ten dollars left over so he puts it in the safe he’d bought when he first landed here eight months ago and sighs when he sees the measly amount he’s managed to accrue in that time. 

 He has plans to go to Los Angeles and get an apartment and work on his art, but it never seems like he’s saved enough. Every month that passes brings a new expense—he still hasn’t managed to finish repairs on his motorcycle, and with every week that passes he’s not sure he’ll ever have enough to get it back to working order.

 He’s only earned two hundred dollars in the last three days—a slow week for him. He pays for yet another test at the local clinic to make sure he’s still clean and takes the PREP they give him—most clients are willing to use condoms but he’s been stealthed a few times and he’d rather deal with the side effects than have HIV. 

 He’s dusty and dirty, coated in grease and sweat as he works on his bike, cursing the wrench as it slips for the third time and his knuckles smack into the sharp edge of the carburetor. 

 “Shit! Fuck! Fucking piece of shit!” 

 He rises to his feet and sucks the blood from his knuckles, pulse thrumming as he restrained himself from kicking the damn thing over. 

 A low chuckle has him spinning to find a man more handsome than a movie star smiling at him, beard trimmed to perfection and eyes bright with amusement from behind tinted sunglasses. 

 “That’s a thing of beauty, what did she do to you?” 

 Steve huffs and laughs softly, shaking his head, “Damn bolt won’t loosen,” he says with a wave of his hand toward the bike. 

 The man nods and then grins, “Mind if I take a look?” he asks taking a half step forward. 

 Steve looks him over incredulously—his suit looks more expensive than all of Steve’s possessions and cash combined; “You’re gonna ruin your suit,” he points out, waving a hand at himself to make his point. 

 The man just shrugs and starts taking off his jacket, tosses it over the handlebars and goes to work on his crisp white sleeves. “I’ll buy another,” he says carelessly and then holds his hand out for the wrench dangling uselessly from Steve’s fingers.

 Steve hands it over and watches as the man crouches down and starts working the bolt loose by inches, sweet talking to it the whole time in a way that makes Steve’s blood heat in a way that has nothing to do with the sun pounding down on them. 

 There you go darling, loosen up for me, just like that. 

 Yea you just need a gentle touch, huh? 

 Ahhh that’s my good girl, let go for me 

 Steve turns away, flushed and thirsty, though the water he gulps down seems to do little to actually quench his thirst. 

 “There we go,” the man says and Steve turns to find him smiling brightly, a pleased look on his face as he holds out the bolt in question. His shirt and forearms are smeared with grease and Steve frowns—he’d warned the man. 

 “Uh, thanks,” he murmurs, reaching out so the man can drop it into his palm. 

 The man grins and waves a hand at the bike, “I haven’t seen a 76 Triumph since I was a kid,” he says excitedly, “Where did you find it?”

 Steve pockets the bolt and grabs the hem of his tank top, pulling it up to wipe the sweat and grease off his face as he replies, “It was my dad’s. He was a Vietnam vet,” he explains, straightening out his shirt and looking up at the other man in time to see a familiar look of lust pass over his face before it’s replaced with something polite and urbane. 

“Very nice,” the man murmurs with a nod, “well, I uh, I should let you get back to it,” he says, hesitating for a second before extending his hand to Steve, “Tony, and uh, thanks for letting me tinker with it.”

 Steve takes the proffered hand and is surprised by the calluses—this man seems more like the type to have manicured nails than work roughened palms. 

 “Uh yea sure, anytime,” Steve murmurs, smiling softly, some soft longing in his gut as the older man starts to walk away, jacket tucked over one arm. He doesn’t want him to leave, and before he can stop himself he steps forward and calls out. 

 “There’s a great diner about a mile away, has the best shakes and fries,” he blurts, “you wanna grab a bite?” 

 Tony stares at him for a long moment and then cracks a grin, “I could eat.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 They talk over burgers and fries and it’s around the time that Tony’s telling him a funny story about his best friend James that Steve realizes he hasn’t smiled and laughed this much in years. 

 He likes Tony, a lot more than he should, and more than that, he wants him. The way Tony’s hands move is distracting, enticing thoughts of them on his body and he flushes, trying to pull his attention back to what Tony’s saying. 

 When he does focus in he realizes that Tony’s smiling at him knowingly, twirling a fry in his fingers. 

 “So, I hate to be presumptuous, but if I offered to take you back to my hotel to spend the night, would that be more or less expensive than this meal?”

 Steve flushes and ducks his chin; there’s something about Tony that makes him weak and hot, desperate feeling. “It uh, it wouldn’t cost anything,” he murmurs, looking up at Tony through his lashes. 

 Tony’s brows rise for a moment before he smirks and shuffles out of the booth and pulls his wallet out, throws a handful of bills on the table and then cocks his head, “You coming sweetheart?” he asks. 

 Steve scrambles to his feet without hesitation, limbs feeling gawky and too large for the space they occupy. He follows Tony out to the flashy Audi he’d drove them here in and slides into the seat, pulse fluttering as Tony winks at him and revs the engine before pulling out. 

 They whip through the night till the town appears on the horizon and then minutes later screech into the parking lot below the building, the cheap fluorescent lights making his skin look golden as they pass beneath them. 

 It’s quiet on the elevator ride up, tense and heavy with expectation, want building between them like an electric charge. Tony’s hand weighs heavy at the small of his back, guiding him toward the oncoming door. 

 When it shuts behind them Tony presses him up against the door in a move that leaves his head spinning and guy clenching with need. Dark eyes stare up at him, smiling and hungry, the hand at the base of his throat pinning him in place. 

 “You know what safewords are?” he demands of Steve, fingers pressing into the skin of his throat, lips curving upward. Steve nods breathlessly, breaths harsh and excited between them, the heat of Tony’s hand searing into him. 

 “Good, tell me yours then get undressed,” Tony commands and steps back, dark eyes glinting. 

 “Shield,” Steve gasps, hands shaking as he works the buttons of his shirt open, heart pounding beneath his ribs as Tony walks to the bar and pours himself a drink, gaze never leaving Steve. 

 It’s a heavy thing, Tony’s gaze, like a warm, heavy blanket and he shivers under it, shoving his worn jeans down after kicking off his boots. He’s naked, exposed, and Tony’s smirking as he moves to sit on the couch, legs spread wide and an arm thrown over the back of the couch.

 He’s the picture of indolent pleasure, gaze hooded as he beckons Steve over with a lazy wave of his wrist. It feels like there’s a tug beneath his ribs, a lure pulling him closer, connected to the hand that Tony holds out to him. 

 He’s aware of every inch of his body from the cool marble beneath his bare feet to the hot heavy weight of his cock between his legs, the hot pool of arousal in his gut making him twitchy and desperate for touch. 

 He pauses between Tony’s legs and swallows hard, fighting the urge to squirm as Tony sips his scotch and smirks up at him. “My my aren’t you a big boy,” he teases, lifting a brow and giving Steve’s cock a pointed look. 

 Steve flushes a deeper shade of crimson and ducks his head, shoulders bowing forward as Tony chuckles. “You look so pretty like that darling,” he murmurs, “but why don’t you come here,” he says, motioning toward his lap. 

 Steve hesitates for a moment and then moves to straddle Tony’s lap, gasping softly when his cock drags over the silk, hips rocking forward into the sensation. Tony’s free hand falls to his hip and steadies him, grinning when Steve whines at the loss of stimulation.

 “Now darling, be patient,” Tony murmurs with a soft tutting sound, “I want to play with your pretty cock, you just sit still and be quiet,” he orders. Steve swallows hard and nods, though he can’t hold back his gasp when Tony’s hand closes around his cock. 

 Tony hushes him again and strokes him just once before stopping to play with the head of his cock peeking out from his foreskin. Steve shudders and bites his lip, holding in his gasps as Tony strokes his thumb over the head of his cock, the pleasure like electric shocks, surging under his skin and up his spine. 

 Tony watches his face as he pulls back his foreskin slowly, thumb pressing into the tender skin just below the fat head of his cock, and Steve can’t help the gasp that rises from his chest, head falling back at the rush of pleasure in his veins. 

 It stops abruptly and Steve whines, head sloping back down to find Tony has stopped touching him in favor of sipping his scotch, a smirk playing around his lips. “Wh-why?” he gasps and Tony chuckles, sips his scotch. 

 “I told you to hush darling, if you can’t do that maybe we should stop,” Tony murmurs, rueful amusement in his voice. Steve shakes his head, desperation roaring through his veins, hips arching in search of pleasure. 

 Tony chuckles again and sets aside his scotch glass, condensation from the ice shining on the sides of it and then Steve’s gasping and arching as Tony runs a cool, wet finger down his cock. 

 It’s like ice against his too hot skin and he gasps, shuddering at the sensation. Tony hums softly and does it again, gathers more wetness and trails it over Steve’s cock, watching him writhe with dark hungry eyes. 

 Steve’s never experienced anything like it; the cool pearls of water drag over his skin, teasing against his heated skin, Tony’s fingers follow behind, scaldingly hot and he’s trapped between wanting to get away from it and wanting more. 

 He’s not sure how long it continues, all he knows is that it burns and aches, and every time he whines or cries out Tony stops and waits till he’s under control once more to start touching him again.

 He’s slick with sweat and harder than he’s ever been before and Tony, Tony is hard in his slacks and watching him eagerly, but makes no move to let him come or touch him further. 

 Tears blur his vision and he’s panting, chest aching when Tony smirks and pushes him away, off his lap and down onto his knees. 

 “Stay,” he orders, pausing to smirk at Steve before striding away. Steve listens to him move about in the other room, cock throbbing and aching with every breath he takes. 

 Tony’s back a moment later with no shirt on, torso bare, trousers riding low on his hips and a bottle of lube in one hand. He motions for Steve to rise and sits back down, “C’mere,” he orders, motioning once more to his lap. 

 Steve can barely contain the eager noise he makes as he crawls back into Tony’s lap, shaking with the need to be touched. Tony chuckles and wraps a hand around the nape of his neck, “Kissing ok?” he murmurs, pulling Steve down till all that separates their lips is a breath.

 He nods eagerly and gasps when Tony closes the distance, kisses him so thoroughly it seems to steal the air from his lungs. He’s dizzy when Tony pulls back, panting as the other man grabs the bottle of lube and slicks his fingers. 

 The cold touch at his hole makes him shiver and gasp, the sound sharpening into a keen as one finger slides in easily. Tony watches him as he fingers him slowly, slicking the way before he comes back with a second finger and slides it in alongside the first. 

 Steve keens and gasps as Tony scissors his fingers, opening him up in slow, aching movements. “That’s it sweetheart, open up for me,” Tony murmurs softly, eyes bright and avid on his face. 

 He finds Steve’s prostate with unerring accuracy and focuses on it, stroking it relentlessly as Steve whines and arches, cock twitching against his belly, leaking pre cum heavily. 

 “That’s it sweetie, look how nice your cock leaks for me baby,” Tony croons, pressing harder on Steve’s prostate till he’s all but sobbing and can feel the pleasure in his gut growing like a burning ember given oxygen. 

 Tony is relentless, crooning praise in his ear as his fingers move within Steve with slick movements that drive him slowly crazy. He sobs, the desperation within him to come building to a frenzy, his cock twitching and leaking as it grows relentlessly within him. 

 “There you go baby, lets make you come from that pretty ass,” Tony croons, his stroking growing harder, faster. Steve sobs and arches, the pleasure growing into an inferno in his gut. He wails, the pleasure crashing into him, hips grinding down into Tony’s fingers as he comes. 

 He sobs Tony’s name as he writhes, Tony’s fingers still moving inside him, the pleasure sharpening in his gut till it’s like a knife. Tony relents and slows, fingers stilling inside him as he pants and sobs, lashes wet with tears. 

 His heart thunders in his chest and he barely registers the hand on his face for a few minutes as he gasps, breath hitching in his chest. When he can manage opening his eyes he finds Tony staring at him in wonder, breathing unevenly, hand on his face gentle. 

 “You are so lovely,” Tony murmurs pulling him down for a kiss that robs him of his remaining breath. He tastes like scotch and heat and Steve sinks into it, buries his hands in Tony’s hair and hangs on as the older man grips his hips tight enough to bruise.

 When they break apart neither of them are steady; he can feel Tony’s fingers tremble against his ribs. They tighten and Tony smiles up at him, softer than before, “C’mon big guy, lets go to bed,” he urges, pushing and guiding till Steve’s on his feet, cock still hard between his legs as he’s led to the bedroom. 

 Tony pushes him back into the bed and he goes willingly, knees falling open, watching with hungry eyes as Tony stares at him, entranced for a moment before he shoves hastily at his trousers and briefs, shucking them off before crawling into the bed and hovering over him. 

 He kisses Steve greedily, moaning low in his throat, fingers twining through his hair, tugging till Steve moans and arches into him. Steve's panting when they part, moaning when his cock slides alongside Tony’s. 

 The older man grins and pulls back, leans over and grabs a condom from the bedside, pausing when Steve grabs his wrist. “I...you don’t have to use one,” he murmurs, averting his gaze when Tony looks at him, curious.

 “I think I do,” Tony replies, “unless you’ve got proof you’re clean?” he questions. 

 Steve nods and waves a hand towards the other room, “My phone, I have my test results for the last six months there,” he tells the other man. Tony stares at him for a moment before pulling away, striding into the other room, his ass tight and round, flexing as he goes.

 Steve sits up and contemplates his cock—he’s never come like that before, solely from his prostate, and the force of it had left him breathless and aching. Tony seems to know how to play his body, teasing out pleasures he’s never known before.

 “Heads up.”

 He looks up in time and lifts a hand to catch his cell phone, thumbing at the screen for a few moments before he turns it and shows Tony the test results. The older man studies it and then grabs it, flings it away and presses him into the mattress before he can protest the damage to his phone.

 Tony’s hands are firm behind his knees, pushing them up to his chest as he kisses him, desperate and hungry. Steve feels something at his hole and then gasps into Tony’s mouth as he pushes in, hole fluttering as Tony’s cock stretches him open. 

 It’s thick and hard and hot and he clings to Tony, gasping against his lips, dizzy as he’s taken slowly, Tony’s cock pressing into him, firm and unyielding against his soft insides. 

 It’s overwhelming, the thick length relentless, until finally Tony’s hips are flush against his and the older man is cursing and panting. Tony kisses him, inelegant and demanding, “Fuck, baby, you’re so good,” he pants, “so tight, fuck.”

 He starts rolling his hips, the drag of him over Steve’s prostate sending pleasure firing through his neurons, sparks lighting up in his brain as Tony fucks him. 

 “That’s it baby, so good,” Tony pants in his ear, “god you’re fucking perfect.”

 Tony sucks a mark beneath his jaw and then another and another, one of his hands sliding through the slick sweat on Steve’s chest to toy with his nipples. 

 Sharp pain shoots through him as Tony pinches and pulls on them, pleasure shuddering through him as Tony fucks him, cock slick and hot between them. 

 He’s unable to silence the cries that fall from between parted lips, bitten and swollen and slick from Tony’s kisses. Tony seems determined to make him scream, hands traveling over his body, teasing and torturing. 

 The cock inside him is relentless, driving deep with bruising thrusts that leave him aching and sobbing, begging for more. Tony fucks him harder, teeth closing on his throat as he wraps his fingers around Steve’s cock, stroking hard and fast.

 Steve shouts, spine pulled taut like a marionette as pleasure wraps around him, slicing into him like a razor wire embrace. 

 “That's it baby, come on my cock,” Tony growls in his ear, “god, you’re fuckin perfect,” he pants, thrusts growing wild and harsh. 

 Steve sobs, “Please, please,” he begs, writhing beneath Tony, more desperate to come than he’s ever been. 

 “Fuck wish I could stay inside you forever,” Tony says breathlessly, “so hot and tight.” Steve keens as Tony’s hand on his cock tightens, the ache enough to tip him over. 

 Cum falls in stripes across his chest as he screams and then chokes on the sound, body twitching as Tony pounds into him, hole spasming around his cock. 

 He barely registers Tony coming, hears his shout and then feels the heat of him as he spills deep inside Steve, hips pumping it deeper till finally the older man collapses onto him, breathing heavily.

 Steve floats for awhile, limbs tangled with Tony’s while the sweat on his skin cools. Eventually Tony stirs and kisses his throat, peels himself away and disappears through the door to the bathroom. 

 He’s back moments later with a warm damp cloth, wipes Steve down before tucking the sheets in around them and pulling them close together. Steve nuzzles into his throat and sighs happily, the warm rush of hormones in his veins making him soft and sweet. 

 Lips press to his temple and he smiles, falling asleep in gradients, shades of red behind his lids as he sinks deeper into the haze of sleep. 

 When he wakes the next morning it’s to an empty bed and a note on the bedside table. He picks it up and frowns at the check that slides out and into his lap. 

 His fingers feel numb as he picks it up and stares at the exorbitant amount of zeros on the paper. 

 Hands shaking, he picks up the note once more. 

 Steve, 

 I know you said it wouldn’t cost me anything, but I want you to have this anyway. Use it to get out of here if you want, fix that bike of yours, go see the world. 

 Maybe I’ll see you in Malibu sometime.

 Tony Stark 

 Steve sits for a very long time, a little numb, as his brain races. 

 He’d slept with Tony Stark. 

 Billionaire, playboy, philanthropist…

 And that man had just paid his way out of this shitty little town. 

 Tapping the check against his lips, Steve grins slowly.

 He’s always wanted to see Malibu. 

[imarriedyourwifegoatman]

Loud {Asra x FemReader}

Wordcount: 2.6k

🔞🔞🔞This is mature content read at your own risk I wont be the reason you cant think right after this IT IS MATURE READ AT OWN RISK ~~Mod Dill UwU 🔞🔞🔞

You're currently in your shared bed with your master Asra, thinking about what you should probably have for breakfast. Getting up and looking outside the window, you change your mind and agreeing brunch is now your priority for right now until you hear a familiar voice coming from the shop downstairs.

"Y/n, Y/n!" Your master Asra called out for you "Friend!" You hear his companion Faust and decided to get up.

Walking downstairs, you think about what you're going to eat. Eventually you make it downstairs, and there, standing in the doorway of the shop, you see nobody other than Asra, Faust hanging from his arm.

"Y/N!" Faust slithers from Asra’s arm to your shoulder.

"Good morning Faust." You smile as she makes her way down back to Asra.

"Good morning? More like afternoon, you've been sleeping all day." He confronted you. "Hurry and get dressed, we have to go to the marketplace."

You nod and race back upstairs to get dressed and wash up. You eventually make it back downstairs and see Asra drinking tea and Faust laying down on the table.

"Finally ready? Let's go." Asra stands. "Okay master," you reply.

Asra stops in his tracks looking at you a little uncomfortable, maybe he’s upset.

‘Did I say something wrong? What did I do? Maybe he doesn’t want me to go—’

He sighs, bringing you out of your thoughts. "Hey y/n,” He starts, “could you not call me master anymore? We've known each other for a very long time you don’t have to rea-"

"Yup! No problem! Sorry, I'll stop it's just I umm i-i, LETS GO!" You cut him off and run out the door.

He eventually catches up to you and you apologize to him. The two of you share laughs all the way to the marketplace. Watching him laugh and seeing his dimples make you blush a light tint of red.

Asra is the only thing you want right now, and walking right beside him made you realize even more. You don't want him just kissing your hands, forehead, and cheeks; you want to feel his lips on yours, like he’s the missing puzzle piece that will complete you. You haven't realized how long you were staring at him but you snapped back to reality and blinked a couple of times.

"Enjoying the view Y/n." Asra nudged you and laughed.

Your face is now completely lit up with a bright read your ears feel like they're going to explode. You feel completely burned up and embarrassed. You quickly turn away from him in denial that you actually stared at him for a long period of time.

"I'm sorry.." You sigh in response not knowing what to say or do so you keep your head down not wanting to cause any problems.

You guys eventually make it to the marketplace.

"Smell that Y/n? Fresh pumpkin bread. I bet you're starving." He wasn’t wrong; you hadn’t eaten since yesterday, and pumpkin bread doesn't seem half bad.

You nod in response, your cheeks still painted with a tint of red. While watching him pay and spark up conversation, you see Faust slither down his leg and towards you.

"No Sad!" She noticed that you weren't looking like you usually do, so you thought to yourself..

'I trust her enough to tell her. She won't tell Asra, she can keep a secret'

"Hey Faust, can I tell you a secret?" you ask her in a hushed voice, and out of curiosity she responds with "Like Asra!"

Your mouth drops as she already knew that you've developed feelings for your partner, the person who taught you all you knew about magic.

"How did you know I ummm.." your whisper turned into mouthing "'liked Asra'."

It took a few tries to mouth it until faust shook her head and said "I Didnt!" she slithers back onto Asras shoulder.

You get antsy looking over at Faust, then up a bit and see Asra, just looking at him puts you in a whole other universe wishing it can just be you two alone just being together. Cuddling with him just seems like a dream come true. You see him start to turn back to you, but before he can catch you day dreaming you finally snap out of it and turn around and look up spotting a bird flying above your head.

"That's cool." You say to yourself.

"What is?" Catching you off guard again was no one other than Asra, staring with a smug look on his face.

"Oh uhh," Quickly trying to think of something, you blurt out the first that that comes to mind. “That bird has wings.” ‘Idiot!’ Immediately regretting what you just said, you put your head down and trying to look at Asra in the corner of your eye to only see him smiling in delight.

"Excellent observation. Such veryyyy rare things to spot on a bird, good job Y/n.” He chuckles teasingly. “Let's hurry and take the bread back to the shop before it gets cold." You get up from the table you sat at kinda confused since you guys always sit and stay around. Buy you just shrug it off and follow him back to the shop.

Once you arrive, you hurry up snatch a piece of bread. Not eating all day wasn’t the best idea because now your stomach wouldn’t shut up. The piece of pumpkin bread given to you was a generous amount and you completely devoured it like a lion who hadn’t eaten in 3 days. Looking over at Asra you notice how he didn’t eat any bread yet.

"Are you not hungry Asra?." You ask while he pulls another one of his smug smiles. "Kinda but Faust told me a little small secret of yours."

You immediately regret telling Faust but you couldn't stay mad at her being that she was also your friend, all you can do is hope that she didnt actually tell Asra that you developed deep feelings for him.

"I am ver-." You immediately got cut off by the feel of Asra’s lips against yours. At first, it shocked you but you soon melted into the kiss. One of his hands found it's way around your waist and the other one on the back of your neck, pulling you forward and deepening the kiss. He only pulled away to catch his breath.

"Asra..." Your voice comes out raspy, but as soon as you caught your breath, Asra dived back in, lips moving in sync. He licked the bottom of your lip to enter and you opened your mouth letting out a muffled squeal as his tongue explored your mouth. He soon trailed all the way down to your neck to make his work but stopped.

"I-Is it okay if i-?" He trailed off, looking up for confirmation. You only nod in response, lost for words.

It was like he was confused at first where to start, but soon started attacking your neck with expert skill. At first it was small kisses and pecks, but turned into sucking and biting until he was satisfied on marking you. While he was working on you, you started to try and remove his shawl, but he insisted to keep it on.

He picked you up and told Faust "Sorry for that Faust. If we get too loud, you have permission to go to the castle for a while." And saying that he carried you bridal style up the stairs and dropped you on the bed.

"If we get too loud? What are you planning on doing to me..?" You teasingly ask him out of curiosity "I mean I won't mind whatever you want to do."

Asra only laughs in response. You look into his eyes they're clouded, full of lust and you couldn't help yourself and pulled him towards you and you flip asra so you're on top of him and straddle him.

You've never done anything like this before, as far as you can remember, and you didn't know what you're doing, but you didn’t want to seem helpless and have Asra do everything. So you do the opposite that comes to your mind, and start grinding your hips down against his.

He looks at you completely puzzled but his confused face turned into his famous smug and bucks up his hips to find friction. You gasp in response, causing Asra to smirk as he did it again. Slowly, he trailed his hand down your body, and in between your legs, rubbing at your clothed core.

A moan erupts from your lips, back arching up into him. You pull him down into a kiss, moving your hands to tug at his shirt, signaling you desperately needed to go further.

He complies and removes his shirt slowly, teasing you as he does so. Silently snickering a bit, he finally finishes and looks at you with pure lust, and post-haste attack’s your neck, nipping at every inch of skin he can. By the time he’s done, your neck and collarbone are littered with purple and red bruises against your abused skin.

"This isn’t very fair, Y/N. I’m half naked, and you’re still fully clothed.~" He suggests "Mmm maybe I should..." He tugs at the sleeve of your shirt, making you blush.

You remove your top just bashfully, hoping that he doesn’t judge you in any way. He gets eager enough to take off your clothes himself very fast, like an impatient child wanting a piece of candy.

He eventually manages to strip you from the very tattered up pants.

Asra looks down at your nearly naked body, his gaze not wavering. You squirm underneath him, worried that he doesn’t like what he sees, until you hear his say, no louder than a whisper: “You look absolutely stunning.”

He unhooks your bra and pulls down the straps to take it off, and you can’t help but blush when his hand slightly brushes against your skin.

"Asra... can i uhh..."

"Yes you can, you don't have to ask me to uhh." He mocks playfully "No seriously Asra ca- I want to do stuff as well!"

Your demanding manner made him grin and only shake his head. "Let me think." He looked into your pleading but stern eyes, "Not right now sweetheart."

'He called me sweetheart!’ You internally screamed your face is completely lit up more than ever before.

Asra is still making his way to remove all your clothes. All is left is your panties, completely soaked from Asra’s teasing.

Your eyes trail down his golden toned skin, looking at his slim figure down to his lower abdomen, being more than impressed with the bulge you see in his underwear. You want him badly. You've always had since the time you woke up in his arms, maybe even before that, but you try not to remember. You don't want a headache to ruin this moment. You pull him up into a deep kiss, you finally caught him off guard.

Oh how the tables have turned, and it felt really good until he picks you up and falls on top of you on the bed.

"Ready?" That was a question you've wanted to hear since you've met him, always wanting this, wanting to feel him inside you.

"Yes, Asra, please."

With that he quickly sheds the little bit of clothing he has left and positions his member to your entrance.

"If it hurts tell me okay?" You nod in response to only let out a loud moan as he slowly pushes himself in.

"F-fuck" He curses under his breath "You feel so fucking good." You didnt really you started to move your hips to feel more friction, signaling you’re ready for him to continue. Apparently he took the hint, as he pulled out almost to the tip, only to slam back into you forcefully.

Asra slams back in a few more times until he picks a pace and constantly keeps until you tug at his hair, "F-Faster."

Your demanding tone makes him grin. "Just because you're currently being pounded doesn’t mean you lose manners Y/n."

Just to tease you, he slows down his thrusts, driving you crazy. Every thrust makes you moan. You try to speak again, attempting to ask him politely, but it just turns into slurred nonsense.

He understands that you're trying to redeem yourself to go at a faster pace, but it just wasn’t enough for him.

"Come on darling, just say it~." Cooing his words to make you feel better.

"P-Please.." you’re able to get out.

"Please what y/n?" His thrusts start to pick up pace. "Please F..faster." You whimper not being able say barely more than a few words.

"Faster? Want me to speak faster? Be more specific, princess."

"Asra.." you only hear him groan in response. "Ca..." You dont know what you're saying, too lost in the moment to really care.

He tuts teasingly. "Heh, I sure wonder what a ca is... hmm do you mean clit y/n? Why didn’t you just say that."

'No that was not what I meant!' But Asra pulls out of you only to lay you on your stomach and enter again without warning.

You scream in response of this sudden action of his, only to realize the position you were in. Your thoughts got messed up as he starts to rub your clit rapidly and resumes his almost punishing thrusts.

You couldn't feel anything but pleasure. You saw white as your lover had you at his mercy, only able to moan and sail as he makes love to you. Feeling a knot start to form in your stomach made you feel like you were about to burst, you wanted to let go of this feeling not knowing what it was called at this point but you wanted to last so Asra could feel satisfied.

Hearing Asra groan was like music to your ears but he began to let out loud whines and howls "i-m going to cum." He began to chant to you and that was probably why you felt the knot in your stomach that was what needed to happen. With the strength you had left you screamed "ME TOO!!" Not knowing what you said until you felt like you were going to break your legs gave in and you threw your head back releasing the knot in your stomach with a loud moan.

Your body was shaking feeling the pleasure leave you. Asras thrusts began to become sloppy as he still continued to pound into you but he eventually gave in and you felt a hot liquid shoot inside of you, making your moans sync with each other.

Asra collapse on top of you for a few moments before pulling out finally and carrying you out the room to wash you up putting you in your night clothing. Afterwards you two lay down in bed together cuddling and asra whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

"I love you so much, Y/n." He smiles looking at you. You smile and whisper into his chest, “I love you more.” Before you can tell him all you wanted to before your lovemaking Faust enters the room.

"LoUd!" She then begins to slither onto the bed with you guys laying on asras shoulder and falling asleep "Maybe we were a little too loud asra."

"Maybe Faust was just listening a little too hard." His response mad should fall even more in love with him. You lean up and capture his lips in another kiss, and look at him seductively.

He chuckled, the vibrations feeling good against your chest. "Don’t tempt me Y/n, I just washed you up."

[darnedchild]

Let’s Talk About Funko Pop Molly Hooper #3

“But wait, DC, what happened to Molly #2?” you probably aren’t asking yourself.  She’s coming, but she’s a S4 Set!Lock Molly and I thought I’d continue off of my last Funko Pop Mod post with my second Lab Coat Molly (or Molly 3.0 as I call her in the privacy of my own home where there is absolutely no one listening).

Quick reminder of the two tips I shared last time:

Tip #1 - Soak the figure in hot water for awhile to let the plastic and glue soften.  If you are luckily, the Pop will come apart easily.   If you aren’t (as I haven’t been in most cases), you may have to result to several soaks, brute force, and/or a sharp blade.  Hot water will also help you reshape some (but not all) delicate bits if they’ve gone a bit wonky.

Tip #2 - Compare your Pops before you begin to remove anything.  Some heads/limbs can be virtually interchangeable, some require a lot of finessing to properly fit together.  Measure twice, cut once.

On to Molly 3.0.

For my second go round with a Lab Coat Molly Hooper, I wanted to switch things up a bit.  I decided to give her glasses since she is wearing them in her ID badge photo, even though she never wears them on screen.

This time I started with the Cosima Niehaus Pop from the Orphan Black line and Felicity Smoak from Arrow. 

Unfortunately, they’re older pops and a bit harder to find now, which can be cost prohibitive. 

Let me take this moment to mention that this is why I don’t sell my mods.  Materials alone can range anywhere from $30 to $120 for each Molly, and that’s not counting my labor costs.  No one wants to pay $150 for a single Pop made by a non-professional, and I can’t afford to charge less than that.  Which is why I’m making these how-to-posts so you can make your own.

In this instance, I wanted to keep Felicity’s body for another Molly Project, so I had to be very careful with removing her head.  This is also where I discovered that Funko heads and neck posts are not universally sized.  Roughly put, Felicity’s neck hole is larger than Cosima’s neck post.  I had to get creative with some super glue to make it work.  I did not have access to sculpting putty at this point; I would highly recommend investing in some if you’re going to mod Pops.

Once I managed to get the head and body together and stable, I had to do a full body repaint.

You may end up with pretty obvious brush strokes.  See Molly’s hair above.  It’s my curse.  Probably because I don’t actually know what I’m doing here and I’m just making it up as I go along.

Tip #3 - If my paint is too thick or drying too fast, I’ll mix a tiny bit of slow-dri fluid retarder or blending medium into it.  Tiny amount.  Tiny.  You can always add more if you need to.  Honestly, I’m pretty sure I’m using it wrong, but the slow-dri gives me more time to smooth out ripples and brush strokes and it’s not that expensive at the craft store.

The one place I absolutely hate seeing brush strokes is on the face.  If I can’t get the paint smooth, I go in with one of those cheap eye shadow sponge wand things that no one uses anymore and lightly bounce the sponge across the “skin”.  For some reason, I’m happier with a little speckle texture on the face than with brush strokes.

After the paint is dry, I always finish with a varnish.  Above shows the difference between just the matte acrylic paint and a partial coat of matte varnish.  (Her hair looks like a lighter brown in that picture because of the lighting, it’s really the same “Nutmeg Brown” as all the other pictures.)

A few fun details on this Molly:  I painted Cosima’s book to resemble a clipboard full of paperwork.  I used an ultra fine point Sharpie to add “writing” to the paperwork and to Molly’s ID tag.  I painted shoelaces onto the shoes.  Cosima’s shoes are booties, but I wanted Molly in something more in character; so I painted the upper edge of the booties a shade off from her khaki paints to make it look like a rolled cuff.  The most iconic and recognizable piece of Molly’s wardrobe (other than a lab coat or the black party dress) is the cherry jumper, so I added some red dots to her white shirt.  Molly’s ID photo is much too small a scale for my shaky hands to manage in detail; so I simply used some blue, brown, and beige blobs (with a little Sharpie) to give the vague idea of her ID.

Assuming no one tells me to stop writing about my mods, I’ll be back to talk about Set!Lock Molly as well as Matt the Radar Technician, Mary Watson, and the rest of the Sherlock gang that I’m hoping to tackle in the future.

Feel free to poke me if you’ve got any questions.  

Sorry for the length of this post.  If you follow me, you already know I ramble.

Toodles.

[castlevania-afterdark-imagines]

adrian, hector, trevor and godbrand get a lap dance from their fem!so

Adrian

Smug bastard knew what was up weeks before it happened. He’d caught his s/o practicing once or twice, but insisted he hadn’t been watching that long.

He’s just as excited when she’s ready for him though, obeying immediately when she gestures him into the chair in the middle of the living room.

He loves the slow and sensual music she picked, easing back into the chair and just drinking in her form.

He doesn’t get so much “rock hard let me fuck you already” as much as he rides the wave of it, feeling his pulse jump when she does a move that implies a particularly lewd movement or when she catches his eyes over her shoulder. He’s entranced.

Nearly hops up to help her when she drops to the ground but oh, oh wait, she meant to do that and damn when did she learn the splits?

When she gets within touching range he can’t help himself, barely brushing his fingers over her hips so as to not interrupt but he needs to feel her.

He’s starts purring dirty nothings at her as she settles in his lap, feeling his legs tense up as he tries so hard not to grind into her.

“You’re stunning, I never want you to stop. This side of you is just….bewitching.”

He nearly chokes when she turns around and has somehow magicked her bra off without his noticing. He’s pulled back in as she keeps moving, though his nerves are running frayed.

“If you move your hips like that again I’m going to take you right here on the floor.”

She does, and he does exactly that.

Hector

He’s a bit confused why his s/o has put him in a chair, in the middle of the dining room floor, and pushed everything else to the walls. Also why are they wearing such a long coat inside and…heels?

When she asks him to stay seated and to not laugh he’s twice as confused, ready to ask what’s going on when she opens the coat and lets it slide from her shoulders. His jaw hits the floor as the coat does.

She blushes and skitters over to their sound system and his eyes follow, appreciating the curves of her body that are being accents by the straps and lace of whatever that clothing item can be called. At the moment the only word that comes to mind is “fucking-hot”.

Once the music starts she settles into her dance, moving just out of reach to the heavy bass and giving Hector come hither stares through her eyelashes. He nearly obeys, but then remembers the chair beneath him and remains still.

He gives small appreciative gasps and small moans as she moves closer. When she places her foot on the chair between his knees he wants to lean forward and kiss at her thigh, worship her skin with his tongue. But as soon as he leans forwards she’s moving again, twirling around the side of his chair and behind him.

He feels like he’s slowly being driven rabid, turning to follow her movements but never being allowed to actually touch her.

When she finally stops to the end of the song, posed with her legs spread on the floor in front of him he’s quick to join her, climbing up her body and kissing her roughly.

He tells her how beautiful she is, how skilled, and how he’s going to enjoy paying her back with plenty of teasing of his own.

Trevor

Trevor Belmont is not even the slightest bit shy about public PDA. However, he was not expecting his girlfriend to give him a lapdance in the middle of a bar.

She’d taken his beer away, set it on the bar behind them and turned his chair around. He was about to protest when he saw the sultry smirk on her lips just before the music got a little louder and they started moving.

All at once he’s keenly aware of how tight her leggings are, how her heels make their legs look ten times longer, and how very braless she is right now how did they get out of the house without him noticing THAT detail?

His eyes snap to the small gap of skin that peeks under their shirt when they run their hands up their torso, framing their chest before stepping forward to straddle his lap.

His hands are gripping the chair beneath him, his eyes wide as she pulls out tricks he didn’t know she had, writhing and rubbing all over his body. It feels like they’re the only ones there, though when a man reaches out to touch her Trevor’s hand snaps out and twists his wrist back without so much as disturbing his lady’s dance.

When the music winds down and she’s panting on his lap, worrying her lip between her teeth as she looks for his reaction he tangles his fingers in her hair and kisses her, pressing his hips up into her.

He’s so fucking turned on he quietly asks her to stay very still, because if she so much as presses her chest up against him right now he’s going to ruin his pants.

Naturally she does, and he pants hotly against her neck as he squirms underneath her. “Oh shit, oh shit, just- just stay-”

In a move previously unheard of, Trevor leaves the bar with his lady in tow, beer abandoned on the counter as he promptly gets her into his car and gets them home as fast as possible.

Godbrand

If his s/o knows anything about this guy, which thank goodness she does, she has the forethought to tie his arms down before she starts moving. Otherwise he’ll never keep his hands off her.

He’s whistling and cat calling wherever she pulls out a very showy move. He’s grinning and grinding his hips up to meet hers when she sits back into his lap.

He is definitely fun to dance for, as he spares no commentary and tells her exactly how hot she is, how rock hard she’s making him, and how as soon as these ropes are gone how he’s going to take her on every surface in their house.

When she starts grinding against his dick while kissing at his throat he actually goes breathless. He nearly breaks a wrist trying to get free so he can get his hands on her. Thankfully she frees him not long after and he promptly carries her to the bedroom.

If she has a specific routine she wants to show him he can be persuaded to let her finish, though has to be reminded periodically not to grab her mid-trick.

Over time he’s trained to appreciate both the impromptu “rile you up to fuck me” dances and the more planned ones, it’s wild to him that his s/o can be so many forms of sexual.

He’s also asked for enough dances that he has some moves memorized, which he will bust out if he needs to cheer his lady up.

He’s not that big of a fan of it in public though. The first time it happened he thought he’d have more fun boasting about how amazing she was but found he liked having that part to himself. Something fun and dirty just for them.

-Mod Soviet

[chaniters]

SUGAR VICE

Anonymous asked:

What about a fun past!one where a kid approaches the Rangers and they all think the kid wants a photo with them all... But nope the kid walks past them towards sidestep! I'd love to see how the Rangers react. Gender can be anything you wish!

Here goes! I’m (hopefully) starting a new series of shorts with this one!

Sugar Vice.

“Why are we here again?”

“Because… we have to be.” Elyise answers plainly.  

“And… how long do we *have* to be here in this parking lot?” It’s not that you lack patience… But you’re honestly very hungry. There is the “LDL Records” building next to you, an office building next to it, and a Pizzeria on the corner opposite to you. People are having dinner enjoying the comfortable weather on the tables outside.

“Stop bugging me, you know I don’t know how it works either”

“Can’t we wait in San Benito’s?” You point at the pizzeria. “I’m starving!” you complain.

“No!” she insists in a hushed voice. “We have to be here. Right here.  It doesn’t work if we’re not here. If we go there, then we’ll be changing things and…”

“What If It’s my treat? I’ll pay” You offer.

“Gods, it’s not about money!”

“But I’m hungry!!!!”

“Just how old do you say you a… ”

And then, all the lights go down.    

And half the windows at the LDL records buildings explode in flames. The fire is enough to illuminate the whole street.

Lights come back up, and you notice a figure walking out of the building, followed by a pair of modded thugs.

A plump figure wearing a strange outfit with red and white stripes, a striped squirt and high shoes. White makeup over their face. He’s approaching the people eating at San Benito’s outside tables with a smile full of completely white teeth.

“Good evening ladies and Gentleman” he greets them all as they scream and tried to escape.“I will be your entertainment tonight”

Elyise and you leave your hiding place and make a run to try and get behind the villain. She doesn’t need much telepath training to sense the threat just as well. No need to speak while you sneak in behind the parked cars and hurriedly cross the street. She’s a psychic, and a minor telepath. You have your own line of communication. Of course, it’s not perfect. Although older than you, she’s never received any proper training and thus her ability never flourished, being relegated to the role of a mere empath. Until she met you that is.  Not that you’d have agreed to help her if she was more powerful… then she’d be a threat. As it is, she can’t find any of your secrets even if she wanted to, and you’re more than happy to help her understand her powers.

“First of all, I’ll perform a trick… Watch!” he raises his hands.

Fuck. You hurriedly pass on what the villain’s mind is telling you to Elyise. She nods, and stands up firm, focusing her powers. She’s quite strong when using her Psychokinesis. And her precognition works wonders, except it never shows what she wants to see.

The figure turns his hands through the crowd, and a crystal-like formation erupts from his arm flying straight into the civilian. Very sharp, glass-like crystals.

“A gift from the Candymaster!” he laughs.

But Elyise is faster. The couple that was about to be impaled is projected backward, dodging the crystals narrowly.

The villain, Candymaster looks perplexed. And then he notices You and Elyise in her purple costume.

“Well that was FAst!” he smiles, delighted. “I didn’t expect for a hero to answer that fast. And Now I have two! You’re going to make little ‘ol me blush!” Then he pouts “Too bad you’re a tad bit too late right? That whole building on fire… oh well… Let’s get to it… Good thing I came prepared”

He motions to the Thugs, who charge at you. You duck and hit the one charging at you in the stomach, then kick his teeth off as he tries to regain his breath. Elyise uses her powers to lift the other one in the air. You shoot at him with your energy gun, stunning him.

As you turn back to Candymaster, he is sending some sort of candy-shaped drone flying above.

“Ohh you two are good! This will be so much fun.”

You aren’t sure what the drone is supposed to do, and the thoughts coming from CandyMaster are a bit too random for you to correctly read.

Music. The drone is playing a song. And old song.

And the CandyMaster starts dancing… Elyise and you look at each other and then charge at him. No point making sense of this lunatic, you agree.

That was probably a mistake.

——- 15 seconds later ——–

“To the left! Left!” you yell at Elyise. SHe manages to leap to the left just in time, as another crystal emerges from the ground, destroying the pavement and nearly impaling her.

“Hahahahhahahaa” Candymaster laughs sounds like a little child and it’s just freaking you out. “This is soo good!!! PLEASE KEEP IT UP!!” He adds in a much more grave voice. He lowers his hand, and more crystal shards form, this time falling from the sky.

Even anticipating his movements, it’s hard to dodge sharp stuff on free fall. You manage to get out with a mere cut on the leg and consider yourself lucky.

“I’ve been told he can’t be sold/ He’s not vicious or malicious” the drone’s song keeps going

“JUST DEE-LOVELY! AND DELICIOUS!” Candymaster yells hysterically exploding in laughter as he follows the track. He’s still dancing, raising and lowering his arms, commanding crystal shards to erupt from every direction. That baby-like laughter is going to haunt your nightmares. This is hell.

You dodge as shards appear next to your feet. Fuck. You haven’t even been able to get close to him yet.

A large red metal mailbox flyes straight onto the Candymaster, and is stopped as another shard appears. Elyise is doing her best too.

“Oh, nice! You almost get me! ahahahaha!” Ohhhh how you fucking loathe him. You pull out your energy gun and start shooting, but he just places shards in between you, and soon enough you’re the one running for your life instead.

“Aww… I love it! You are making this a TON of fun Sidestep thank you! I would totally give you a hug! Come closer for your hug! Oh… no? Well, then let’s try something different…  Looky here Sidestep baby!” he calls. Irritating you even more.

As you face him again, you notice he’s holding a  kid by his arm. The poor fellow is terrified as the CandyMaster runs his fingers through his cheek.

“New game! You give up, surrender, and I let him go… Or else.. you know.. I stuff him with candy! ha!!!  Yeah… I think that’s fair enough!.” He addresses the terrified crowd around him. “What? Don’t be mad at me! I know Y'all wanted a twist, didn’t ya?”

You and Elyise have a split-second talk with your minds. the decision is clear. CandyMaster is too unpredictable but you can both agree he will kill the kid if you do nothing.

Fuck. You step forward.

“I surrender, Candymaster!” you say walking with your hands up. With your abilities, you can probably dodge his next attack. If you’re lucky. And then Elyise can give you some support and try to get the kid to safety…“Let him go!”

“Oooh .. Don’t ya love heroes! always doing stupid stuff like this! You know I’ve always been a fan! I’m going to have a bite of you once you’re covered in delicious fondant!” The mental image sends shivers down your spine. Yeeesh. He points a palm at you and…

You hear a shot … and the drone explodes, music going silent.

“WHO DID THAT?” he asks looking around?“

"I did it.. What are you going to do about it you clown punk?” Steel asks standing behind him

“Wha…?” Candymaster starts to say as he turns but never ends the sentence. Steel’s fist breaks his jaw in a single movement. You blink and rub your eyes… IT literally broke his jaw. There are pieces falling off. What in the…

“THAT … WASN’T… NICE!” A harsh voice cames out of the CandyMaster as he holds his broken and cracked face with his left hand. Then he extends his right hand and sends a whirlwind of crystal spikes at Steel, who deflects them with a kevlar riot shield extending from his armored arm.

“What the hell… ?” Elyise can’t help asking in disbelief as some pieces of the Candymasters jaw bounce all the way to her boot. “Is this guy for real? Am I dreaming?”

No time to ponder on that. You take the chance to snatch the kid and run back, away from CandyMaster. “HIde behind the cars and get out of here ok?! Run to your parents!” Fuck. The kid is too terrified to move. You hold his hand and give him a small mental bump. You make him feel safe. Everything will be alright as long as you’re here. He finally nods and runs down the street.

Steel finally ducks behind a car. Great. You’re back where you started.

“OH AND YOU’RE NOT GOING TO GET OFF EASY EITHER!” he says turning to you. You are shocked to see his cracked jaw is reforming… he seems to be literally made out of the same crystal material.

You evade the next spikes, but one of them gives you a nasty cut on your side. You thank the universe for the nanomesh shirt, which seals the wound instantly. Still, it stings like hell.

Candymaster sends a huge spike at Elyise, but this time she looks straight at it… and it stops in the air. You can’t help feeling a bit proud. Her Psychokinesis is improving rapidly since you agreed to help her train her mind.

“Enough of that!” the spike flies back at the CandyMaster, going through his chest, more pieces of him falling down on the street as his entire body is covered in cracks. .

The villain stumbles back.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck! Look what you’ve done… do you have ANY Idea what it cost to make this costume ?” he seems furious… and not dead. You begin to wonder what’s going to take to finish him off. “Now I’m going to …”

You start sprinting with your gun drawn... Time to find out!

But then your mind feels another presence.. up.. in the sky.. it’s…

You stop in your tracks, right in time to avoid the wall of fire surging in between you and CandyMaster.

“Stop fooling around!” a male voice yells “We should have been gone 10 minutes ago!”

You notice a massive male figure taking hold of CandyMaster. He has mechanical wings attached to his back.

“I was just having some fun with my new friends here! You can’t blame me! I get lonely!”

“We’re going before they kill you!” and with that, a jetpack between the wings activates and the both of them fly away. Steel takes a few shots at them but fails narrowly

………………. A few minutes later……………..

Elyise and you are sitting on a bench. You're telling her you're ok for the 10th time when Steel finally approaches, his arms crossed.

“That one… was… interesting” He doesn’t seem to be trying to be hostile right now. For a change.

“Yes!” Elyise says looking at him. She doesn’t really know you two don’t get along. Good for her. “IT freaked me out! He was reforming too! And look… !” she holds a small piece of one of the murderous crystals “These are actual candy! You think he’s made of it?”

“They are?” you ask. You can’t help it… you lift your mask to reveal your mouth and lick it.

“AWWW THat’S JUST GROSS!” she yells. Yeah… you might have issues.

“I know… but .. it’s… really good candy?” You feel very confused while you pick up several other large fragments from the ground.

“Stop that!”

“Yeah.. sorry,” you say a bit embarrassed. But you put it all in a bag. For later.  “It’s not my fault you wouldn’t let me have dinner”

“I’ve Never seen something like it.” Steel interrupts in a  more serious tone  “I know who he sounded like tough. If voice recognition software works, he’s Vito Costa.., former mobster. And he’s gone completely insane.”

“Wasn’t he sentenced to death?” She asks. You remember it too…it was in TV a while ago.

“I guess he offered to take part on experiments,” You say before you realize you shouldn’t even talk about this.

Steel gives you a LOOK. one of the “I know you’re up to something”looks. The ones you hate. Fuck, you should just keep your mouth shut around him.

“Yes, you’re VERY well informed Sidestep… as usual… Voluntary experiment programs on death row are generally just delayed executions tough. I guess this one worked and no one bothered to tell the public he escaped.”

“Well, that’s our government for you!” You’re just SO GLAD it was Elyise who said it and not you. Reminds you why you like hanging out with her.

“Hhm..” Steel just looks at the ruined Building Legend Records tower. “Did you see that?” he points.

“What?” you look up. There is a large “V” sign written in fire over one of its walls. More than likely the flying guy who rescued CandyMaster. “Oh… what does that mean?”

“It means there’s a new power in town. Los Diablos Legend Records has always been in Hollow Ground’s pocket. Whoever "V” is… they are leaving their mark, showing off their power. The other guy was Balrog, and he’s a heavyweight villain. I almost catch him a few years back.“

You notice Ortega and Anathema coming along.

"Hey” Ortega speaks

“Hi” you reply. You’ve been avoiding him for a few weeks after that kiss at his place. You have no idea what to say to him.

“Hey.. can I get a picture?” the shy voice startles you. You notice it’s the same blond kid from before.

“Sure thing!” Anathema says. LEt us gather and…

“No! I want a picture with him” he says pointing at you.

“Oh,” Anathema just laughs. “Sure thing! As long as Sidestep’s up for it?”

You blink. You generally don’t like pictures… but you’re not heartless..  

“Ehr.. right. Sure! Come over here!” you say awkwardly.

Anathema takes a picture.

“Can I have a video too? My brother’s not gonna believe this!”

“Oh sure!” you say. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Daniel! And I’m a big fan!”

“Alright… start recording Themmie!”

“Hey! I’m Sidestep, and this is my personal friend Daniel here with me! He’s been really brave, and we’ve just defeated CandyMaster!”

He yells in excitement as the video ends. He shakes your hand… and then you do a fistbump. Good thing you’re a telepath or you wouldn’t have ever realized what he wanted when he extended his fist at you. He hugs you and then leaves, a bit embarrassed.

“Wow, you’re great with kids!” Ortega comments. The words just make you feel 50 shades of awkward all over you.

“I know right?” Elyise goes on “Sometimes I feel like he’s a kid in the body of a young man!” Ok, the knife is just digging too deep.

She approaches you and whispers a few words to you.

“It’s done. That’s what we had to do. You needed to save that kid”

“Why? Who is he?”

“No idea,” she says turning and saying something to Anathema.

You sigh. No sense trying to understand how her precog abilities work. You can just hope it’s all for the best. And you’re glad you saved the kid.

Luckily it doesn’t take long for Steel to make a comment about you not saving the Legend Records tower, which you use as an excuse to get into a fight, and walk away avoiding any more remarks about your age…  And especially, avoiding Ortega.

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

Next chapter: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181655004514/shy

________________

My Fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

[bkdksecretsanta]

untitled

Gift fic for Tokiji aka Irakirih on IG from @katsuyamii

A message from the Santa:

it's been fun chatting with you in the low lights fireflies chat, i actually thought it was pretty funny that i got you when we're both in that server! much love from mod kenny, hope you enjoyed the fic!

Izuku let out a yelp as he watched pro hero Ground Zero fall to the ground from his television. Soon after, the cameras were all trained on Shouto and Chargebolt, no longer paying any attention to Izuku’s husband. He began to panic, trying to call anyone who might be at the scene. Of course, no one answered, and that only made him feel nauseous.

    He scurried to the kitchen, grabbing his phone. He hurried back to the couch and scrolled through the hero websites he frequented. Katsuki was fine, Izuku knew that. Katsuki was strong, and he wasn’t going to die. It was just a hard push to the brick wall and some debris falling on him. Katsuki would be fine.

    Izuku sighed, staring at the screen until the news station changed. He waited up for Katsuki, really trying hard to keep calm. He knew the other would be okay, but he couldn’t help but worry. Katsuki was normally home just an hour after his shift ended, but he still wasn’t back, and it was late, so Izuku eventually nodded off.

    He awoke a bit later when the door opened. He bolted upright and looked at the door. Katsuki was grumbling a bit to himself, the lights still out.

    “Kacchan?”     “Hm?” He grunted, turning toward him. “Close your eyes.”

    “What?” Izuku frowned, but did as he was told.

    He heard Katsuki flick the lights on, then blinked his eyes open after.

    “Thanks.”     Katsuki shrugged. “Why the fuck are you still awake?” He asked, moving in closer, hands tucked into the pockets of his old gray sweatpants.

    “I was worried about you.” Izuku mumbled, looking up at him from under his cocoon of blankets, blushing a little.

    “You were...worried?” Katsuki glanced away.

    “Yeah!” He huffed. “I was watching the fight on TV, I was scared you were really hurt.”

    “It wasn’t that bad.” He rolled his eyes.

    “Then let me see.” Izuku looked at him.

    Katsuki faltered for a moment. “What? No, Deku, I told you, I’m fine.”

    “I don’t know if I believe you…” He mumbled.

    “Whatever. I’m gonna go shower, will you join me?” He asked.

    Izuku nodded and stood up. He shrugged out of his blankets, looking over to his husband. He smiled and followed after him. When he got to the bathroom, the water was already on and being warmed up, and Katsuki was already in his underwear. Now that Izuku was behind Katsuki, he could see what was going on.

    Katsuki’s back was torn up, especially around his shoulders. It was mostly scratches that Izuku could only imagine was from being slammed into the building, or the debris that fell on him. However, there were some bigger scratches and deeper cuts along his arms and a large bruise on the side of his neck.

    Izuku frowned, stepping in closer to Katsuki. “Let’s get in the shower.” He mumbled, his voice soft.

    “Yeah. I don’t fucking like you breathing down my neck like that, you know that, Deku.” Katsuki looked at him.

    “I’m sorry.” Izuku nodded.

    He remembered how sensitive Katsuki was now about people being behind him and touching his neck. It started back in high school, when Katsuki had been kidnapped by the League of Villains. Dabi had grabbed the back of his neck, and since then, Katsuki rarely wore shirts with a collar, and Izuku was careful never to touch the back of his neck.

    Once they were in the shower, Katsuki surprised Izuku by wrapping his arms around him tightly. Izuku blushed up, hugging him back, careful not to hurt him, knowing his back was sensitive from all the injuries he just had. They stood like that, just holding each other under the dim bathroom lighting, warm water rushing down their skin. Izuku leaned into him, sighing. It wasn’t often that they shared soft and tender moments like this, but Izuku craved this kind of intimacy. He loved it more than anything. He wanted to hold and hug him until he wasn’t sure where he ended and Katsuki began. Moments like these were what made Izuku certain that marrying Katsuki was the best decision of his life.

    “I love you.” Izuku said after a moment, pulling back just enough to look at him.

    Katsuki smirked, though his eyes were soft still. “I know you do.” He chuckled.

    “Hey.” He pouted teasingly, pulling away to playfully push him. “Say it back.”

    “Oh?” Katsuki leaned in closer to him. “Make me.”

    Izuku blushed up, then closed the space between them to kiss him softly. He melted into him, but it was a sweet and chaste kiss.

    Katsuki leaned back, smirking. “I love you too, Deku.”

    After their shower, they moved to the living room, and Katsuki sat on the couch, wrapped up in a video call on his laptop with Denki, Hanta, Mina, and Eijirou. Izuku loved how close they were, and the others had offered to distract him while Izuku cleaned his cuts and bruises. Izuku slipped down behind him on the couch, but not too close.

    “I’m gonna start now, okay?” He set his hand on Katsuki’s arm, sliding it toward his back so he wouldn’t shock him with the sudden touch.

    “Alright.” Katsuki nodded.

    Izuku began to clean up the scratches along his shoulder, where it was the worst. He carefully dabbed at the wounds with some cleanser. When Katsuki hissed, Izuku frowned, patting his side gently in assurance.

    “I’m sorry, I know it stings, but-”

    “I’m not a fuckin’ child, Deku.” Katsuki huffed out. “I know it hurts, I can take the pain.”

    Izuku sighed. “Sorry, Kacchan. I was just…trying to make you feel better.”

    “Thanks.”

    It was spoken sarcastically, but Izuku felt a little better. He could usually see through Katsuki’s sarcasm or his teasing words now, and he knew that meant a lot for their relationship. Izuku was terrible with criticism, but now that he knew Katsuki was mostly teasing him, he felt a lot better about it.

    At the beginning of their third year at UA, Katsuki had broken down in Izuku’s room, telling him everything - how he felt, how scared he was that he felt it, and how he didn’t expect to be forgiven for anything. Of course, it took time, but Izuku did forgive him. From there, they became friendly, and, over the winter break, they had shared a few kisses in Katsuki’s dorm room, and it escalated from their into a real relationship.

    Izuku thought that their first kiss would be the happiest moment of his life, but, at their graduation, only months after they got together, Katsuki got down on one knee and asked Izuku to be with him forever. It was a little too fast, too sudden, but Izuku agreed, only to discuss it with him later. They decided that it was important in case something happened to one of them in battle, so the other would be the beneficiary. It was a little morbid for marriage talk, but Izuku knew, going into hero work, it was very likely that one of them might get injured, or worse.

    “Deku?”

    Izuku blinked. “Hmm?”

    “You okay?” He mumbled. “You haven’t said anything in a while.”

    “Oh, sorry…” He blushed up. “I was just thinking about us.”

    Katsuki chuckled. “Of course. Can’t stop thinking about me, can you?” He turned to face him, a little smirk playing on his face.

    Izuku huffed, pushing him a little. “Shut up!” He giggled a little.     Katsuki grinned. “Alright, I’m going to go put a real shirt on to cover up the bandages and scratches, and I’ll be right back. Don’t fuckin’ move.” He pressed a kiss to his forehead.

    Izuku nodded. “Of course.” He wrapped the blanket around himself and smiled, giddy and giggly about how in love he was.

    After a moment, Katsuki returned in a loose long sleeve shirt. He settled down on the couch, pulling Izuku in closer. Izuku blushed up, looking at his husband.

    “You’re awfully cuddly tonight, Kacchan.”

    “Whatever.” Katsuki huffed. “I just...want to hold you.”

    “Sure.” He nodded. “That’s fine, I like that. You’re nice and warm and hey!” He yelped when Katsuki pinched his sides.

    He pouted and huffed.

    Katsuki grinned. “Come on, you know I hate sappy shit. Just let me hold you.”

    Izuku chuckled, wrapping his arms around him, settling his head against Katsuki’s chest. He didn’t know how long they were holding each other before Katsuki started to snore lightly, making Izuku giggle. Eventually, Izuku too fell asleep, warm and comfortable in the arms of his lover.

[ferstibibep1982-blog]

For a quick, mess free application, press the lipstick onto each side of your cupid bow (to keep the little "V" intact), then just in the centre of your bottom lip. Lightly rub your lips together in an and out motion (not side to side) but do not clench. You don want your cupid bow to be rubbed. Your mom is an adult and you shouldn be expected to give her ANY money at all, let alone a HUGE chunk of your pay cheque. Your mom does not have a right to demand anything from you. You don owe her for raising you. The reason for his revenge was so legitimate, you genuinely want him to get that revenge, and he is so damn close! The mountain is done. And then he not. I was going to headbutt my TV out of frustration. But, in this case, there is nothing to grieve. Jess has known Jim as Jim their entire friendship. Jess did not know Jim when he identified as a female, so there's no reason for Jess to grieve at all. Posts that may be perceived as clutter, repetitive or irrelevant may be removed at the discretion of the mod team. We are currently a beauty free for all subreddit that allows discussions of haircare, nail polish, etc. The contour kit was ages ago so I can remember details but I remember not being too impressed. You also need to take your health and well being seriously in the months leading up to your big day. Doing so will help you cope with the unavoidable stress that comes with planning a wedding. Exercise 김해출장마사지 regularly, and choose a workout regimen that's convenient to your schedule. Some sweat pads have elastic arm straps that attach to your body rather than to your clothing. Pads come in a few colors nude, black and white and you can purchase them online or in the health and beauty section of retail stores. Used daily, they can help hide embarrassing sweat stains on clothing.. A coworker would joke that my water bottle was filled with vodka because no one was that bubbly and happy. It not that it was disingenuous, it that on the really bad days I hid from the world for a week or more at times because I was "sick", so when I felt ok enough to go face people and do things I wanted to enjoy it the most I could. A part of it is also that I feel that there so much pain, suffering and misery that if I can bring some joy to others then maybe things balance out and maybe I can forget myself a little. They understood that he just doesn respond to the same kind of direction as other kids. You can tell him to do something, you have to make him want to do it. He needs reasoning and understanding, and he has to have an outlet to calm himself down when he gets amped up. Fast forward about a week and 김해출장마사지 Abigail and I had our first kiss. Then a few days later we were in the middle of our first make out session on her bed. She had her shirt off and I was playing with Abigail boobs and passionately kissing, when I sensually said "Oh Paige". But I did not mean to make even this slight departure from the main business of these papers, which is to confide my literary passions to the reader; he probably has had a great many of his own. I think I may class the "Ring and the Book" among them, though I have never been otherwise a devotee of Browning. But I was still newly home from Italy, or away from home, when that poem appeared, and whether or not it was because it took me so with the old enchantment of that land, I gave my heart promptly to it.

[dawnthecreator]

An Open Letter to Beemoov

This is my letter to Beemoov. It’s very long, but I just couldn’t stop thinking of things to add to it and it took me three days to compose it.

Dear Beemoov,

Before I start, I want to thank you for all of your hard work and everything you and your game have done for us. Without you, we wouldn't have My Candy Love and all of the wonderful things that came with it. I know that in this letter I'm going to come across very angry, but it's only because I care so much about it.

I am a loyal fan who has been playing since my registration back in 2012. I found your game back when I was just discovering what otome games were and My Candy Love was the most intriguing. With it's in-depth customization of Candy and the illustrations she appeared in along with a steady build up to relationships with the NPCs, I was hooked almost immediately. You set the bar very high for what an otome game should offer.

I loved the characters, even if I struggled to get most of them to love me back in the beginning. I wanted to get to know them, I wanted to help them with their problems, and I loved seeing my accomplishments reflected in the illustrations.

This game has done a lot for me. It's given me inspiration for new art styles, it's allowed me to meet new people and become part of the fandom, it inspired me to to create blogs dedicated to the different aspects of the game like Fandom Confessions, Outfit Guides, and Illustration Guides. Your game got me through some tougher times as well. When the real world was getting to be too much for me, I could go to this game and find an escape.

So much time and money has been invested into this game, not just by me, but countless other players, some who've surely poured more money into this than I have. We were teased that this would be a continuation of the characters and that our relationships would continue on into this new season, but it's not, and we were never given a reason to believe that we would be separated from them, especially after reaching one of the biggest milestones possible in a relationship.

The fandom is a mess after ChiNoMiko announced that out of all five boys only Castiel would be returning to the game, and none of her responses to the fans' questions and complaints have been helpful or reassuring – some of them coming off as rude and unprofessional. The fans feel hurt, like you don't actually care about how much this effects us, how much these characters you made mean to us. Your own way of handling the situation hasn't been much better, with dropping only one answer a week, and addressing the insignificant questions over the most important ones until much later when everyone pretty much already knows this information. Your responses to the fandom thus far have been rude and unprofessional as well, and it's not right for you to treat your clients like this.

You want us to trust you, trust that you know what you're doing and that everything will be okay if we wait and see. But the thing is I don't trust you, not anymore, and I'm certainly not alone in feeling that way. You rushed the last several episodes and character arcs, giving us little to no breathing room, you ended the “First Season” with an underwhelming conclusion and jumped right into one of the biggest and worst timeskips we've ever had, and we've been forced to break up with our boyfriends without an option to do so. You got us excited to continue the story in the next season thinking we'd be doing so with our boyfriend and closest friends, but you lied.

I'm a Beta Tester and I have to say that I don't trust you to handle this new season well either. Through just a few lines of dialogue we're told we broke up with our boyfriend, which from the player's perspective is coming right off the heels of us finally giving ourselves to the boy we love most, which is such a huge deal even in real life.

The reasons for the break up are ridiculous as well, saying that it was the distance that ultimately made them end it, even though in this day and age, technology has done wonders to bring people closer together from all parts of the globe and long distance relationships are not only possible, they're becoming increasingly common. Not to mention the personalities you made for these characters and the dynamic of the relationships being so strong that Candy and her boy would've done whatever it took to stay in touch, no matter how difficult.

With more dialogue, we're even told what's happened to the boys, and I have to say it sounds like you've butchered Nathaniel's character. Whatever character development he had in the last game seems to have been thrown out the window for a more self-destructive character for whatever reason, to the point that none of his old friends like him anymore.

As for Kentin, as it was pointed out to me by one of his fans, you already had him and Candy break up once before near the end of the game and now you're forcing them to break up again. I can't understand why you'd make such a cruel decision like that to make Kentin fans suffer more.

The most heartbreaking of them all is Lysander, though. On his route, Candy said that she would be there for him as his father was dying, but now she's left him even though both of his parents have passed away and he had to move onto their farm. He would need Candy more than ever, but because she left him in his time of need, that makes her such a horrible person.

It's been hinted at by Chino that at the very least, the boys will be mentioned, but no cameos are currently planned. But the game hints that we'll see them again in passing. But I don't want to see them in passing, I wanted them to still be with us and go to college with us. Looking back at all the illustrations I've gathered over the past six years, remembering all the tender moments my Candy shared with her boyfriend, I have to wonder what it was all for if we're just going to break up with them and only hear about them from our friends? What was it all for if you're just going to make it all null and void in the second season? Why not just make a new game entirely?

It may sound stupid, but I've cried over this. Many of my friends have been crying and still are with each new bit of information we receive. We've been playing this game for so long, and now it feels like you're tossing your old customers aside for new ones that haven't even discovered your game yet. I can't even begin to understand how that's a good business move. The fandom is in flames, the “silent players” are actually coming out to voice how much they dislike these decisions. In all of the six years I've been playing this game, I've never seen this fandom overwhelmingly reject something you've done with this game. Even the complaining about Nathaniel's awful bird shirt doesn't compare. And it feels like you're ignoring us. It feels like you're ignoring the complaints, the fans who say they're leaving, and the mods that are resigning. I have been loyal for six years, even when you stumbled with your stories, I still played the game. But now I have no reason to continue into this second season if you're just going to take away everything I worked hard for.

Also, please for the love of God, change the AP system back to how it was. It was fine the way it was. Not perfect, but far better than what you've done to it. It's bad enough that dialogue costs AP now, but the cap on AP has made it so much worse. The Beta episode alone was just under the 1000AP cap and it's not even finished. It's going to be even more difficult to play just the current episodes, it would be even more difficult to try and do any replays. It'll discourage people from doing replays, and it'll discourage loyal players from logging in everyday to get their free AP and money. Players are going to lose momentum and interest very fast and it could make them quit altogether just out of frustration with having to stop so frequently in episodes. Please, just change it back, or if you're feeling generous, change it back, but leave the new daily 20AP.

The reason for this new AP system is transparent, it's to get more money. Maybe you weren't making a lot before, but this isn't the way to do it. You should invest in your merchandise, put faith in it. Most of My Candy Love products are only available in France, with a whole manga series that hasn't been translated in more than two other languages as far as I'm aware. It's so difficult for fans outside of Europe to get a hold of the merchandise. Try investing in easy-to-make items, like calendars and posters of varying sizes. I know so many people, including myself, would eat that up like candy, paying real money to get our hands on it, but you'd have to make it available everywhere, not just a few countries. I've seen people shell out $20 or more for posters, there's no reason you couldn't jump on that opportunity.

I don't want you to fail or be shut down. I want you to consider harder that the decisions you're making are the wrong ones, probably the worst ones you've ever made and need to be changed. We want you to succeed, but we also want you to deliver the best possible product My Candy Love can be, and this isn't it. Thank you for being so patient to read my lengthy letter all the way to the end.

Sincerely,

-  A Long Time Player of My Candy Love

[mx-requests-forum]

[Fulfilled] My Fragile Hyung

Prompt: hyungheon fic slightly inspired by jooheon’s birthday message where jooheon is really protective of his fragile hyung and loves to take care and coddle him

Fulfilled by Mod Ree~

Words: 991

AO3 Link

Jooheon follows the others up the stairs to their practice room, puckering his plump lips in a pout as he watches just from two steps behind how his ragdoll of a hyung is obviously struggling. He quickens his pace so that he walks side-by-side with the older, placing a steadying hand at the small of his back.  

Hyungwon looks over, a serene, gummy-like smile coming to him easily at the sweet gesture. He returns his attention back to the path ahead, silent yet thankful. Jooheon knows, he doesn’t need to hear it from the older’s lips.

“We should stop for a break,” Jooheon suggests.

It’s been four hours already of nonstop practice, getting ready for their Japanese promotions with the little time they have left. It’s been an emotional couple of days with the closing of their world tour, but they don’t have the luxury of letting their tears dry. They need to perfect these stages, they’re already so far behind. But, with all this rigorous training, it’s gotten difficult for anyone, even Kihyun or Minhyuk, to pipe up and complain about how tired they are.  

Everyone’s gasping for air, buckets of sweat just pouring off them, but no one’s worse for wear than Hyungwon. Despite the lingering heat of summer, the older had word a long hoodie over his short-sleeved shirt to accompany the shorts that reach passed his knobby knees. However, his knees have begun knocking together, and his breaths come out ragged and forced. He leans against Jooheon for support, covering it up by pretending to be typically-clingy, though the rapper sees through it.

Hyunwoo glances over in surprise at Jooheon’s words, because out of all the members it’s the rapper who tends to complain the least, but then he notices the real reason his dongsaeng is asking. He notes Hyungwon’s exhaustion, how his frail limbs seem to shake, and he nods easily.

“Everyone take ten minutes,” Hyunwoo says, pulling his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his brow. “I’ll go see if the staff can bring us any more waters.”

“I’ll go with you,” Kihyun offers, going to the leader’s side after retrieving his own face towel. Hyunwoo smiles warmly for a moment before leading them out. Minhyuk watches after them with a small huff of annoyance, plopping down on the bench. Ever since the airing of their last two X-Ray episodes, the blonde’s been feeling left out over the simplest of things, like he had when they’d first recorded the episode.  

Jooheon gently takes Hyungwon by the arm and leads him to the bench, as well, looking around them for a towel to wipe at the older’s face.

“You should get better at calling for breaks when you need them, hyung,” Jooheon tells him worriedly, patting gently at the older’s beautiful face. Hyungwon slumps against the wall behind them, smiling fondly.

“Why? You’ll just do it for me, anyway,” he replies, slightly teasing. The tips of Jooheon’s ears grow red at being called out, and he turns away to try and come up with a reason to make up for it. But, Hyungwon just chuckles under his breath, leaning close to give the rapper a small kiss to the temple.

“Thank you for taking such good care of me,” he says, his tone painted thick with gratitude. ”I don’t know where I’d be without you, my sweet Heonney~”  

Jooheon doesn’t—can't—look up from where he stares, too bashful as he studies the shiny new polish on the practice room floor. He’s vaguely aware of Changkyun’s high-pitched giggle, probably at something Hoseok had said, but he pays them no mind. That’s been typical since they recorded that damn episode, too.

His heart is beating impossibly fast, the sound of it filling his ears and making it hard to focus on anything else. He chews on his lower lip, trying to sort through this odd mixture of embarrassment and pride. There’s a warm sort of buzz spreading through his whole face beginning from where Hyungwon’s lips had touched his damp skin, and he only wishes he’d felt those lips against his own, instead.

“I-I... um... It’s no problem,” Jooheon finally manages to stammer out. Hyungwon chuckles again, resting his head against the younger’s shoulder. A soft sigh escapes him, one that somehow serves to ease Jooheon’s heart... One of Hyungwon’s thin arms wraps around Jooheon’s waist, holding him close as he settles fully on the bench.

“I’m glad we picked each other as ang-mates,” Hyungwon comments, his tone so incredibly delighted despite its drowsiness. “I can’t tell you how happy it made me to see your cute face waiting for me to turn around...”

Jooheon’s ears grow even redder, every compliment making him progressively more embarrassed as the older speaks. Hyungwon’s long fingers thread themselves through Jooheon’s, and the younger catches out of the corner of his eye his hyung’s smile being reflected back to him by the wall of mirrors. He smiles a bit, himself, eyes flicking to the others in the room.  

Changkyun is sitting in Hoseok’s lap, hugging the vocalist around the neck as he whispers something that makes Hoseok blush madly. Minhyuk’s sitting sullenly on his phone, probably scrolling through the fancafe, but Jooheon has no idea why he’d be in such a bad mood... Sure, he’d ended up on his own at the filming, but Kihyun and Hyunwoo had spoken with him after to offer out a polyamorous go at it... He knows for a fact Minhyuk had accepted, because later that night some... noises very much sounding like something Jooheon never wanted to hear again came from that room.  

Jooheon sighs, figuring Minhyuk’s pouting just to pout, and he grips Hyungwon’s hand back assuredly.

“Me, too, hyung,” he responds, a soft smile coming to his features. His eyes grow smaller as his smile grows bigger, his heart swelling in his chest. “I’ll be sure to take care of you... forever~”

[speeps-highway]

Not sure if this asked already, but a lot of people have told me that SA1 was never good to begin with, not even during its initial release, and people are only blinded by nostalgia if they think the game is still not bad by today’s standards. They also said that the DX or other ports doesn’t changed the fact that the game is still crap. Do you think what they said true?

They’re talking a load of shit.

Here’s what the typical review scores were for the game at the time of its release:

This is generally what the headlines to SA1 reviews looked like:

Here’s what the Official Dreamcast Magazine had to say about the game:

Computer and Video Games talking about Windy Valley:

Same magazine (CVG) talking about the game on a top 100 of all time list:

No idea why GamePro thinks the voice acting is better than the music, but they still think it’s a great game anyway:

The only common thing that I’ve seen get criticized is the camera, but that wasn’t enough to make everyone bash the game like I see people doing these days:

And here’s more scores from the time of the game’s release:

These are all taken from Retro’s magazine archive if you’re interested:

http://info.sonicretro.org/Sonic_Adventure_magazine_articles

For a game from 1998, Adventure is still held up pretty high in the Modern Sonic branch. This isn’t due to some “blinded by nostalgia” thing that some people think is the go-to argument for any game released before 2010, it’s because the game really does have a lot to offer. It still has really good controls compared to the likes of games like Generations, and the only game that beats it when it comes to downloadable content is Unleashed (which you had to buy).

And well, if you think SA1 aged poorly, you’ve clearly never seen the original Star Fox:

(No offense to the fans of this game of course)

I think the aging argument is very stupid in general though. It puts forward the idea that just because a game is old and has lower poly graphics than a game like Grand Theft Auto 5 means it’s automatically terrible.

SA1 might have a stupid camera, but it has few game breaking bugs. I can only think of completing Casinopolis with Amy and getting the Crystal Ring in Super Sonic’s story. That’s very tame compared to what was found to be possible with other games released around the same time - notably Ocarina of Time.

Sonic Adventure DX on the other hand, well:

https://dreamcastify.wordpress.com/

There’s too much to cover in one image. It broke the camera even further (you can’t use the D-pad cam in the Steam version), it broke the collision, it broke the aesthetics, it broke the sounds etc. There’s way too much to cover and I don’t think that game would’ve ever gotten the review scores that the original game did had that somehow been the product released in 1998.

Nobody’s out there basing their opinion of Chrono Trigger on the shoddy Steam port that just came out, are they? That’s sure what a lot of people have done for this game, and it’s pretty apparent when people have come forward saying they like the game after having seen the original product.

A while ago I had fun with a friend applying SADX’s quirks to a screenshot of Final Fantasy 7. We ended up with this:

Aside from the player models, I think it looks pretty accurate.

Now, what are exactly those modern standards that people like to hold against this game? Let’s take a look:

Oh.

You have to pay for basically anything that isn’t automatically available in the base game in a lot of recent titles. In SA1, all of the downloadable content was free, you just needed a VMU to put them on.

(https://www.kotaku.com.au/2016/11/skyrim-special-editionis-too-janky/)

Anyone who has played a Bethesda game can tell you they are buggy as fuck and the company hardly bothers officially fixing them. I’ve been playing Skyrim a lot lately, and I managed to get out of bounds in one of the cities pretty easily by jumping on top of a house. The game constantly crashes even with no mods, and there were multiple times when enemies would just fall out of the world after dying.

How about standards within the Sonic franchise itself? You have Mania, sure. But then you have this:

It’s like it forces you to laugh at these shitty memes.

Something Buggin’ you and True dat are both localization changes, but the former at least is original stupidity, Tails and the Sanic shirt are just pure cringe. I’m not even sure why they wanted to add Sanic in the first place, considering how much it’s used (along with the “Gotta go fast” thing) to mock the franchise by people who hate it. It’s like walking into a bar wearing your rival team’s colors or something.

When it comes to story, it’s quite clear Sonic’s development staff these days barely know anything about the character’s history other than 1, 2, Colors and Gens. Most characters act in ways that are inconsistent with their past appearances (Notably Tails) and references don’t do a good job of presenting themselves well either:

Then there’s this thing:

Nobody complains about seeing Icecap in Sonic Adventure, because it wasn’t already put into about 7 other games before that and treated like the only place this character has ever been. Oh wait, no. Excuse me, there’s also Chemical Plant Zone - which was also in both Gens and Mania beforehand.

SA1 on the other hand is more caring and subtle with its references - Tails’ flashback is based on Sonic 2′s original manual, you won’t find that boy talking about Angel Island unless you go out of your way to find him, and Sonic sure doesn’t go “Wow it’s us 3 & Knuckles that sure brings back memories” before the Chaos 4 fight, does he?

In truth, SA1 is still a good game and it was highly praised at the time of its release, but with the downgrades brought in by SADX along the current reputation and state of the Modern Sonic franchise, some people have a hard time believing that.