#it just occurred to me to try to do a three strand rope and it was very satisfying 😌

[blujayonthewing]

the reason I like pull n peel twizzlers is that I like to braid the strands or twist them together to make ropes, an extremely normal and neurotypical way to enjoy candy,,

[bookishdream]

Hi darling!

Can I please request a sorta cute thing with Matthias?

Ps. I adore your writing! Have a lovely day. <3

A/N. Hii, thank you very much for those kind words! Hope you like it, enjoy xx.

TW: maybe some curses

Matthias Helvar x fem!reader

Ketterdam's street were never grisha-friendly. The danger could occur at every turn, thus you had to be as careful as possible, jumping all the time and looking behind your shoulder. Your powers were new, you found about them while escaping from Ravkan's soldiers. And because of your disliking toward second army, your mother country had become your greatest enemy.

The Kerch’s biggest city was dark, that was your first thought. The sun was shining, but it didn’t make the town brighter, the exact opposite – clouds that sun was behind were, successfully blocked its shine. Your hair was messy, caused by days of laying down in the ship’s storage, your body was bruised and ached you at every step you made.

You cursed under your breath, when you stumbled. Your ability to walk started to disappear, but you pushed it harder, you were determined to find some quiet and dry place to sleep. If it was even possible to find here place like that.

“Hi,” someone said, her voice sweet as sugar, she even looked like sugar. “I think you got little lost.”

“Nah, I’m good. Who are you?” you asked, making a small step back, only to meet with a torso of someone. You eyed them and you saw a black skinned boy, with black hair and a smirk on his lips. “Shit.”

“We can help you,” The brunette girl said, once again trying to gain your trust. “you’re like us.”

You muffled a laugh. “Listen, I don’t want any trouble or your help, I told you I was fine and you should’ve left it after that.”

“Oh, darling,” the boy said, his voice flirtatious. “We don’t do what we should.”

The brown-haired girl clenched her fist, and you felt a little bit sleepy, even though you tried to fight the urge to fall onto the floor.

  You woke up, your back was pressed to the cold walls of some weird looking place, your hands tied behind your body. You shivered.

“You are a fighter, aren’t you?” the boy who helped the girl capture you, voiced from the corner of the building. “What are you?”

“I– “you couldn’t say another word, because three other boys who you had never seen came, with this sugar-looking girl and a slim, looking like a shadow girl.

“She woke up, great.” The guy in the hat, and long coat said, his voice raspy, making you shiver. “We need your help with our next work.”

“What?” fair-haired boy, asked confused. “We had two grishas with us, why we need another one?”

“Matthias, I think you should shut up, or I, personally, am going to kick you back to Fjerda.”

“Demjin.”

“You shouldn’t have kidnapped her.” Girl with black, braided hair, told him, while turning her knives between her fingers. “You should’ve asked like a civilized person would do.”

“I’m not a civilized person, Inej.”

“Can someone tell me what is happening, and why are you talking like I’m not fucking here?” you tried to free your hands from ties, but rope only got deeper into your wrists. “If you’re from the second army, I will not help you.”

“You’re from Ravka?” the fair-skinned girl started making her way toward you. “Why did you escape?”

“I did not escape, I just went temporarily missing.” Your cheeks heated, you could feel the blood seeking out of your wrists.

“Do you know what would have happened if Fjerdan’s army had found you?” Inej asked, eyeing you up and down. “They hunt grishas.”

Matthias coughed, everyone looked at him, under their eyes he only lifted his one arm and placed his eyes on you.

“Everyone hunts grishas, Ravka, Fjerda and Kerch. You probably are not better than them.”

“She’s right,” Matthias agreed with you. “You aren’t.”

“Matthias, you’re scaring her. Jesper can you untie her?” the guy in the hat ordered.

“What if she punches me?” he commented, but still undo the knots. “She has a spirit.”

You sighed, not having enough strength to even think about kicking him in the guts, but maybe later.

“You said you wanted my help.” You directed your words at the hut guy. “Why do you need that?”

“I knew you’d listen” the boy said, his hands were coated in some expensive-looking gloves, one of them were laying lazily on a cane with a crow head at the top of it. “I’m Kaz, and the girl beside you is Nina, the one who untied you is Jesper, the young looking one is Wylan and the buzzkill is Matthias.”

You eyed the last one and you couldn’t say he wasn’t handsome, his face was all sharp edges, short blond hair was slightly falling onto his eyes. You were sure that under the clothes he was muscled. You quickly looked at the others and you noticed the sugar-looking girl – Nina, was looking at you like you were a pray.

“What are you?” Inej asked, her eyes never leaving your figure. “We have a Durast and a Heartrender.”

You let out a heavy breath, cold needles of ice were poking your cheeks. “I’m a Squaller.”

“And you didn’t want to help your country?!” Nina exclaimed, appalled.

“I owe this country nothing.” You answered, frowning. “They didn’t do anything to help me and my family, I will not let them take me against my own will.”

“She’s a fierce one.” Jesper said, walking toward you, and picking one strand of your hair, turning it slightly between his fingers. “And a pretty one.”

“Let go of me.” You sighed, getting your hair out of his fingers. “No one said I’d help you.”

“You will if you don’t want to go back to Ravka.” Kaz said, clicking his walking stick on the floor of the tomb. “You don’t have much of a choice.”

“Not like I’d be able to help, I found out about my power,” you trailed. “Like a few days ago.”

“Don’t worry about that, I’m sure Nina will be more than happy to help one of hers.” Kaz made a step and walked out of the tomb with Inej and Jesper, Wylan a step behind them.  

Nina nodded her head like she was truly happy about that fact. Your hands were still aching, red stains of blood around your wrist bone. You nodded your own head even though Kaz had already left. Nina looked at you one last time and walked out herself, leaving you with Matthias.

“You’re braver than you think you are.” The boy said, taking your left hand into his and using his other one to wipe it clean with a piece of material he took out of his pocket. He looked into your eyes and took your right hand. “You should be proud of yourself.”

“Proud because I ran away from my duty?” your face went blank, you hadn’t regretted your decision. “I should be fighting with them, and here I am, helping bunch of criminals.”

He laughed slightly, patting your hands gently with his fingers. “You’re brave, because you looked Kaz straight into his dead eyes and didn’t flinch. That’s an achievement.”

“He doesn’t look so scary.”

“He just acts like that, I bet he’s like a kitten under this coat.” Matthias said, helping you walk out of the tomb, “kitten who scratches all the time.”

[tsarisfanfiction]

A Prickly Situation

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst Characters: Scott, Alan

Alan was terrified, but at least he was unhurt.  Scott would do everything in his power to keep the latter fact that way.

Next up for @whumptober-archive with day 4 “Trust Fall”, somehow using all three prompts: “Do you trust me?”, taken hostage, and pushed.​  Will this get a follow up?  Who knows - it depends on the rest of the month’s prompts.

The cliff edge was right behind his heels; as his weight shifted, pebbles wriggled loose and tumbled down, landing in a rustle of disturbed foliage.  Scott wasn’t sure how far down it was, or what was at the bottom, and he wasn’t particularly interested in finding out, either.

Alan was near tears. Scott couldn’t blame him; a gun to the temple was terrifying, and they’d both heard the click of the safety coming off when Scott hadn’t complied with the demands instantaneously enough for the owner’s liking.

If it was just him, he’d probably have considered fighting back, but he hadn’t come out alone, and as he looked into the too-bright eyes of his terrified youngest brother he regretted the decision to bring him out as well.  Alan was far too young to be exposed to this sort of situation, far too young to be used as a hostage to force compliance.

Scott shivered, and it wasn’t just fear for his brother.  Beside him, folded up with military precision, sat his flight suit, with the rest of his gear stacked up neatly on top.  Alan’s was in a scruffier pile, partially due to his personality, and partially due to the gun kissing his skin the entire time.

Even still wearing the undershirt and shorts, the wind was cold.  Beneath his bare feet, the cliff edge crumbled a little more.

“Thank you for your co-operation.”  The man was alone, but alone with a gun still put the power in his hands, especially when he had it pointed straight at Scott’s youngest brother and a pincer grip on the teenager’s shoulder to hold him in place.  Despite his terror, Alan was smart enough to know to stay still rather than try and escape, although having been instructed to step back to the cliff edge, Scott was concerned about their survival chances regardless.

Certainly he was looking at an imminent drop unless a miracle occurred.

“Now that I have what I need,” the man continued, finger threateningly perched on the pistol’s trigger, “I don’t need you.”

Scott’s heart leapt up into his mouth and he frantically scrambled for a solution, a way to save Alan at the least even as he met wide blue eyes.  Help me, they begged, moisture beading and threatening to overflow. Scotty, I’m scared.

At the end of the day, Alan was still a child.  Scott knew that, even when Alan was wearing IR Blue with his signature red baldric. He couldn’t forget that his youngest brother, no matter the feats he pulled off as part of International Rescue, shouldn’t be worrying about anything more important than his homework, not facing life and death situations almost daily.  He certainly shouldn’t be facing his own death.

“Don’t-” he started, breathless and desperate.  “Not him. He’s just a child, please-”

A bark of laughter cut him off and his eyes tore themselves from Alan to look at the man.  There was a crazed grin on his face, and something calculatingly vicious in his eyes.

“How easy it is to get the Commander of International Rescue to beg,” he drawled.  “Move.”  The word was aimed at Alan, alongside a kick to the back of his legs that had him stumbling forwards a pace, held up only by the vice-like grip on his shoulder and the gun still pressed to his head.

Another step and he’d be in Scott’s reach.  The metaphorical chasm that yawned between them felt far more dangerous than the literal one beneath Scott’s bare heels.

“If you don’t want him to die,” the man continued.  “Then you’d better think fast, Commander.”

The hand left Alan’s shoulder, then thrust into his back, sending him staggering him forwards, towards the cliff edge.  A foot joined the effort, and Alan’s arms pinwheeled in a vain attempt to keep his balance.

He wasn’t going to make it.

Scott was moving before his thoughts caught up, the ground falling away beneath his feet as he threw himself between Alan and the cliff edge.  The action left him off-balance, too.

Alan slammed into him and then they were both falling.

It wasn’t a long drop, Scott discovered as his back crashed into something leafy, crushing it beneath his body as he came to a stop that stole the breath from his lungs.  Safely encased in his arms, Alan was tucked up against his body, shielded from the impact as best Scott could manage.

For a brief moment, it felt like they’d escaped unharmed.

Then his nerves set on fire.

Every inch of exposed skin burned, including where his undershirt appeared to have ridden up his back slightly at the contact, and a gasp erupted from Scott’s throat unbidden.

“Scott?” At Alan’s small, scared, voice, he tightened his grip further, pinning him in place.  “Scott, are you okay?”  He wrenched open eyes he didn’t recall closing to see a mop of blond hair rising from where it’d been tucked under his chin.  Stray strands tickled his lips as Alan looked up at him with big, blue eyes.

He couldn’t say he was fine, not when his skin was crawling like a colony of fire ants had decided to hold a festival on it and his lungs were constricted by the resultant pain combined with the brother on top of him.  He wasn’t sure he could say anything at all, but he had to try.

The first thing out of his mouth was a hiss of pain.  “What,” he started, gasping the word more than saying it and watching Alan’s already wide eyes widen further, “did… did I, land on?”

It had to be some sort of aggressive foliage to hit his entire body at once; an upset animal bite would have a specific epicentre, and it was definitely an external cause, not an injury – the same foliage that was objecting severely to his presence had cushioned his fall enough that he didn’t think he’d seriously injured anything, although there would definitely be several bruises.

“Huh?”  Alan moved, shifting his weight and inadvertently pressing parts of Scott’s body further into the plant below.  He swallowed back the resultant hisses.  “Oh.”  He started wriggling to get up and Scott pinned him down as firmly as he could as his biceps started trembling from the prickle of fire assaulting them from below.  “Uh, Scott, it’s a giant nettle patch.”

Well that explained the fiery sensation crawling across his skin.

Alan tried to escape again, but Scott grit his teeth and held on.

“Scott, let me up!” his brother protested.  “We have to get out of here.”  

He couldn’t argue with that, but he could and would argue at Alan wandering through a field of nettles in bare feet and shorts.

“Stay still,” he grunted.

“But, Scott-”

“No point-” he broke off with a gasp, chest heaving, “-both of us, ah, getting stung.”

“I don’t think that’s avoidable,” Alan mumbled.  “There’s a lot of nettles.”

Scott didn’t care how many nettles there were; he’d failed to protect Alan from the man with the gun, he wasn’t going to let him get hurt by nettles, of all things, as well.

“Shift your… weight,” he instructed with another gasp.  “On my stomach.”

“Are you sure?” Alan still sounded uncertain, but Scott was sure he could hear a touch of relief underneath it. “Can you carry me with all those stings? You don’t look too hot.”

“Do you… trust me?” Scott pressed with a wheeze, knowing that the answer had to be yes, or he might just break.

“Of course I do!”  The response was lightning-fast and soothed a spike of anxiety before it could take hold, even if it couldn’t sooth the prickling burn of nettle stings as they sank deeper into his skin.  Scott had been stung before, although never on this level, and knew that it’d be days before his body recovered from this torture.

The affirmation of his trust, however, seemed to be the catalyst Alan needed to get moving, shimmying off of Scott’s chest to coil up on his gut.  The air squeezed out of his stomach was alleviated by the sudden ability to get air into his lungs, and Scott drew in several deep breaths before approaching the challenge of moving.

His palms shrieked as he sacrificed them to the nettles for leverage, unable to use just his abs to sit up while Alan was sitting on them.  At the same time he drew his knees up, blocking Alan from sliding too far down, and as soon as he was sat vaguely upright he shuffled his hands around until only one was needed to keep him semi-vertical.  The other wrapped back around the back of Alan’s knees, holding him in place like a much younger child as he gasped an instruction for Alan to hold onto him.

Thin, child’s arms wrapped around his neck, uncomfortably tight but Scott wasn’t going to tell him to let go.

Instead, he groaned with dread before finding all the strength left that could be mustered and thrusting his torso up and forwards to force himself to his feet.

He almost overbalanced entirely and ended up flat on his face, as though half his body was annoyed at missing out on the stings, but thankfully a couple of staggers and a second hand wrapping tightly around Alan kept him upright.

His back wasn’t appeased, despite no longer being in direct contact with the nettles, and none of the rest of his body was, either.  The soles of his feet screamed as they were roped into the punishment of crushing stinging nettles with every step, but Scott was good at working through pain and kept staggering forwards, taking the shortest looking path out of the patch.

Alan’s hold on him tightened as he swayed, although whether it was reassurance or fear, Scott didn’t like to guess.

(It was probably fear, his mind hissed anyway.)

The burn wasn’t fading even though his skin – tormented and abused feet aside – was no longer in contact with the cause.  How many minor barbs, hairs, whatever nettles used to sting, were buried in him he tried not to think about.  The answer was too many, enough that his body was shaking, limbs supporting his and Alan’s weights trembling, and the nettle patch could likely be justifiably referred to as a nettle forest based on its footprint.

Too big, too agonising, too everything.  He staggered more than he walked, more than once his vision blurring or even whiting out entirely, but they had to get clear before he could risk setting Alan down. He didn’t want to set Alan down at all.

His body disagreed, despite his best efforts to the contrary.  Adrenaline, stubbornness, and anything else he could use to force the dregs of his body to forge through the prickling, rushing, fire of thousands of nettle stings, could only get him beyond the border of the nettle patch by one, single, step.

Knees hit the ground hard, one hitting something hard and sharp that was probably a stone and splitting open to let liquid run down into the ground below, as though it really needed any more feeding.  He barely released Alan in time, little brother scrambling backwards on his palms with blue eyes just as wide as they’d been throughout the entire experience as Scott crashed down onto his front.

“Scott!”

They were clear of the nettles. Alan was clear of the nettles.  Scott had no idea how they were going to get any further; their comms were gone, just like the rest of their gear.  He couldn’t even summon Thunderbird One to pick them up, let alone call John for help.

He could do nothing except lay in a somewhat crumpled heap, vaguely grateful that his front wasn’t also being assaulted with nettles as Alan fussed worriedly, and hope that their bad luck was over for the day.

[haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles]

Shower Friends (Miya Atsumu x F!reader)

The dorm you live in has co-ed bathrooms. Why that’s remotely a good idea is beyond you; and recently, your precious shower time is being interrupted by a certain blonde haired setter for the volleyball team. When he lies to his teammates that he has a girlfriend, somehow you get roped into his scheme.

genre(s): college!au, fake dating, angst, fluff, mutual pining, enemies to lovers (kinda), eventual smut (maybe)  words: 3.5k

a/n: ah the sweet sweet smell of mutual pining. also 3 more chapters are planned, not written yet though bc i just decided i’d be writing them lmao. hopefully can get started on that this weekend and post them next week 🤗

taglist:  @apollochjld @kurosarium @vicassa @carbs-need-more-love @underratedmage @idek-at-thispoint @wtfeverbrandi @food8me @yikes-buddy @ntimacy @nyxiie @oikawasbooty @chocolate3010 @sugawarabby @greenyiplier @kritiiiii @tokyosdawn @youstydiaa @h3llok1ttygirl 

one | two 

Chapter Three

“You want me to help you with what?” You ask, a bit stunned when he showed up at the door, a terribly annoying but also cute pleading expression on his face.

He groans, his shoulders hunching forward in exasperation. “Ya really gunna make me repeat it?”

You peer closer at the top of his head and see that he’s being serious. The roots of his hair growing in are a dark brown and it had never even occurred to you that he dyes his hair the blonde color you’re so used to. “No, but why do you need my help?”

This is so embarrassing. Normally his roommate or a teammate can help him but none of them are available today and he’s already let the roots grow longer than he likes. But when one of them suggested you help him out instead, something inside him rebelled. For some reason, the thought of having you dye his hair for him made him uncomfortable, like he’s showing you an intimate part of him. This hair has been a part of him so long he can’t remember the last time he’d let it grow out.

“I can’t see if I got everything,” he admits. It took a lot of pacing around his room and staring at his roots for him to get up the courage to come over here to ask you. He can’t really explain why he was so against it, especially since you don’t seem to mind after you got over the initial shock of realizing this isn’t his natural hair.

A wave of relief washes over him when you sigh, conceding, “Alright. Just let me change into something I can get bleach on. I’ll meet you at your dorm.”

While he waits for you, he busies himself with mixing the dye together so it’s ready for you, and when you arrive in a t-shirt and shorts with paint splatters all over them, he mentally kicks himself for thinking about how even wearing something so simple you still look better than anyone he’s ever seen. Crossing your arms, you motion for him to take a seat at his desk. Before he does so, he reaches behind his neck to grab at the collar of his shirt and pull it over his head.

You stand there dumbfounded for a moment, it taking you a second to process that he’s now standing before you shirtless and you’re free to ogle his muscular chest and arms to your hearts content. He doesn’t pay any attention to you, knowing if he meets your gaze, he won’t be able to stop the heat threatening to crawl up his neck. Instead, he wraps a towel around his waist to protect his shorts and sits in the chair to wait for you.  

Except now, you have free reign to stare at his back, which is just as defined as the front of him and you need a few more seconds to reel your thoughts back.

“Whaddya waitin’ for darling?” He drawls, throwing you a glance over his shoulder, not expecting you to be standing there frozen, eyes pinned to his now bare chest.

He opens his mouth to tease you further, but your eyes snap to his and you practically shout, “Do you have another towel?” He just cocks a brow and then points to his closet where another towel is hanging on a hook. Snatching it, you return to him and drape it over his shoulders, hiding most of his annoyingly toned body. “Don’t want to get any bleach on your skin,” you explain, no way in hell ever admitting to him that you’re finding it hard to focus with him on display like that.

Absentmindedly, he hands you one of the clips he bought a long time ago, one that’s almost completely bleached itself and you start running your fingers through his hair to section it. He closes his eyes, focusing intently on the soothing sensation of your fingers on his scalp, doing his best not to groan out loud at how good it feels. With anyone else, this isn’t anything special, normally he sits as patiently as he can whilst trying not to annoy whoever is doing his hair (lest they decide to ‘mess up’ as punishment). But with you, it’s a different feeling entirely.

It's jarringly intimate as you clip his hair back and reach over him to grab the plastic gloves that came with the dye. Lathering up the applicator brush, you start slathering it onto his hair, trying your hardest to make sure it’s evenly distributed and surrounding each strand. As you do so, you ask, “How long have you been doing this?”

He resists the urge to shrug, not wanting to jostle you, replying, “Osamu and I started in middle school.”

“Osamu dyes his hair too?”

“Yeah, he goes for gray. But I’d heard blondes have more fun so—here we are.”

He grits his teeth as your fingers skim over his scalp, glad for the towel you wrapped around him to hide the goosebumps skittering along his bare skin.

“Let me guess,” you muse. “You guys did it because people couldn’t tell you apart?”

“That,” he laughs, “And we thought it would look cool. The first time we did it, it looked like shit.”

Your answering laugh warms his heart as you unclip a section of hair and keep working. “I can’t imagine your mom being too happy about it.”

“Livid. We got bleach everywhere.”

You laugh, continuing to move through his hair methodically. It doesn’t take very long as you’re just dying his roots and they weren’t that bad to begin with, contrary to what Atsumu thinks. When you finish, he gives you a sheepish look and has to swallow his pride to ask you to help him wash it out. Every time he’s tried to do it himself, he always ends up leaving a huge chunk of bleach somewhere.

You oblige, following him to the bathroom, not bothering to care about the looks you get along the way. If they want to stare at a shirtless Atsumu and then glare at you for having that all to yourself, that’s their prerogative. It does wonders for your confidence, regardless that all of this is a ruse.

Luckily, the bathroom is empty and Atsumu dutifully bends over the sink to let you start washing the dye out of his hair. He’s immensely grateful his eyes are shut, and his face is shoved into the sink to hide his flushed cheeks as he thoroughly enjoys your fingers running through his hair. The sensation of your fingernails lightly scraping over his scalp makes him ball his fists as he has to bite his lip to keep from making any sounds.

You’re unbothered, until you notice the towel has slipped from his shoulders and with the way he’s bracing himself against the counter every muscle in his back and arms is on display for you to see. It’s an effort to continue your task as if nothing is wrong and force yourself to look off into the distance instead of eyeing him up.

It’s no easy feat. Especially when you finish and he rises, scrubbing at his face with the discarded towel before moving on to his hair. You press your lips into a firm line and let yourself indulge just a little bit looking at the way his muscles flex with the movement, droplets from his damp hair trailing down the planes of his chest towards the waistband of his shorts and—your attention is broken at the sound of him chuckling and you snap your gaze to his.

You find him staring at you with mischief sparkling in his eyes, so you speak before he can tease you. “Is that it?”

“We have to actually dye it now.”

“Oh.” You turn on your heels desperate to escape his gaze. “Let’s go then.” A smirk plays across his lips, but he refrains from teasing you, solely because he very much enjoyed the way you were looking at him and doesn’t want you to stop.

And yeah—sue him if he thinks about your hands in his hair for the rest of the day. In the end, he might be a little grateful no one else was available to help him.

When mid-semester break arrives, it comes as a surprise that you actually miss each other. What surprises you even further, is that he’s the one to bring it up. Within the first night, he video calls you, a sheepish expression on his face, explaining he needed someone to complain to.

“What do you mean?” You teased. “Sounds like you’re getting stuffed with good food from Osamu and you have plenty to brag about.” You winked, smiling devilishly at him and pointing to yourself. You’re only joking. Slightly. You aren’t sure what will come about if he tells his family about you, or if that’s even a good idea. It’d be much easier to break this off cleanly without the involvement of each other’s families.

He sighs, flopping down on his bed and scrubbing his face with one hand. “They’re just dyin’ to meet you now.”

Your brows lift, half-expecting him to have tried to keep this a secret. “You told them?”

“I wasn’t gunna,” he explains. “But apparently some college sports news channel caught um—,” he coughs awkwardly, remembering very vividly this day, yet the two of you haven’t acknowledged it since. “Our—uh—celebration.”

Eyes widening, you stare at him a moment before the both of you burst out laughing. Between your giggles you manage to say, “Oops.”

Laughing alongside you, he grins, despite the pang in his heart at the voice in his head desperately trying to remind him all of this isn’t real. You aren’t his girlfriend and the moment all of this ends, you probably won’t bat an eye at him ever again. He hates how much that hurts.

Forging onward towards his demise he discloses, “I am now a very proud owner of a very jealous brother now, so thank you.”

That only makes you keep grinning, setting a hand on your cheek and dramatically saying, “What? Of little ol’ me?”

He fights the urge to tell you that yes—jealous of little ol’ you. The girl who is slowly becoming the girl of his dreams. The beautiful, funny girl who deals with him and everything that comes with him. He swallows all that, keeping the mood and saying, “He refuses to let me try any of his onigiri. A crime, really.”

“Of the highest caliber,” you agree, stifling your laughter. “Though I’m sure you steal some when he isn’t looking.”

“Yeah, but he caught me and hit me on the head with his spoon.”

“How dare he. Lucky for me, my family is clueless.”

“What do they think yer doin’ right now then?”

Shrugging you say, “I told them I had a project to work on with a classmate. Which isn’t entirely a lie, I do have a project to work on. But someone interrupted.”

He smirks. “Wonder who that could be.”

“Beats me.” His responding grin does something to you that’s been happening a lot more frequently lately. Making you feel like all the air has been punched out of you and like your heart is going to beat out of your chest. Though, you’ve gotten quite good at hiding it.

In the distance, you hear someone calling his name. He panics, it’s bad enough his family knows about you now, but he isn’t sure if he’s ready for them to meet you. Especially Osamu, who he has the sinking feeling is already suspicious of this. It’ll be a miracle if he can slip this by him.

“Gotta go!” He says quickly, and before he ends the call, he hears you chuckle and say, “Beware the spoon.”

Every day his situation only gets worse.

The next night he can’t get Osamu off his back. Enough that when he tries to retreat to his bedroom to give you a call, pathetically missing you again, Osamu bursts in when he’s about two minutes into the video call with you. He tries to shove him out, embarrassed and afraid Osamu will see straight through him. But Osamu is stubborn, and he hears you laughing on the other end of the call before saying, “Aww, Atsumu won’t you at least let me try to charm the pants off him?”

He grits his teeth, the thought that he wants you to charm the pants off of him, not his brother flitting through his head before he can stop it. But he relents, letting Osamu sit backwards on his desk chair to join the conversation.

He isn’t sure how, but somehow you get Osamu to believe this is real in a matter of minutes. You have him laughing and talking about culinary school and he almost feels jealous that your attention is now on Osamu instead of him. It’s a ridiculous notion, he knows it, but it doesn’t stop him from keeping the camera on him as much as possible.

When the call ends, Osamu looks at him seriously, and for a moment Atsumu thinks he’s just been pretending to believe you this entire time. However, he breaks into a smile and smacks him on the back saying, “Got yerself a keeper, there.”

Atsumu tries to grin with as much sincerity as he can. Yeah—he knows he does. But that isn’t going to stop this from ending.

That night, both of you go to bed feeling like you’re getting in too deep.

And as per usual, when school starts back up again, neither of you bring it up. You’re happy to keep ignoring it, hating yourself for liking this arrangement and him more and more every day. It sad really, how much time in your day is spent thinking about him. Wondering if there’s any possibility that the two of you could just transition to a real relationship. Because to you, that’s already what this is. Nothing would change, but at least you’d stop feeling guilty every time you enjoy his hand in yours or the soft press of his lips to the top of your head.

A few days after returning to school, you find yourself alone with him in his dorm room studying. He’s sitting at his desk, hunched over a textbook while you lay on his bed, head propped up by an elbow. You can feel your eyes drooping, the words blurring together, it becoming harder and harder to stay awake. His bed is too comfortable and smells overwhelmingly like him, a scent you’ve come to enjoy every time you’re pressed up against him. A mixture of his body wash and the ever-present faint smell of the volleyball court. Eventually you’re powerless against the solace of sleep.

When Atsumu notices you, his heart jumps into his throat. You look so serene and peaceful, your chest rising and falling ever so slightly, part of him wants to crawl in beside you and press his face into your neck and fall asleep right along with you.

But he too has begun to feel like this game has gone too far. The moment he had to tell his family, lie to Osamu, he knew he’d crossed a line. It isn’t fair to you. No longer does he need to pretend for his teammates that he can have a serious relationship, there isn’t a reason to torture himself and keep you tied to him anymore.

Yet, thinking about not being without you, no longer eating lunch together, studying together, or having you in the stands at his games wrenches his heart in such a way he actually feels like it’s crumpling inside his chest. He hasn’t been able to admit it, but at some point along the way, he thinks he fell in love with you. And it just hurts too much to keep pretending. Especially when you’re only doing this for peace and quiet during your showers.

For you, he shouldn’t drag this on any longer.

So, a couple days later, you texted him telling him you were in the library and can join him anytime if he wants. A harmless text, one you’ve sent him many times since this whole thing started, but this one makes his heart sink. Knowing this is the opportunity he’s been waiting for to talk to you. He tries to not think about it, trying to let volleyball take over his thoughts, but it’s futile. All he can think about is saying those words to you, and how it’s quite possibly going to utterly destroy him.

But you take it well, as he expects, squashing the hope that you might feel something for him too.

That night in the library feels particularly lonely. There’s no quick-witted remark from the boy who carved himself a place in your life, no one there to make you laugh when you’re struggling with a problem. Instead, you’re met with nothing but the darkness and silence of the library. It’s almost too much to bear, and once the silence starts closing in on you—you force yourself to leave, refusing to let yourself wallow.

The next weeks are hard. He never imagined that he’d think that after all of this was over. He keeps showering in the mornings to avoid you and uphold the deal you two struck months ago. He ignores the empty hole in his chest when he eats lunch without you, or studies late alone. The most jarring thing is your absence at his games. He constantly finds himself searching the crowd for your face, before remembering you won’t be there. He misses that intense gaze he could always feel on his back, the one that kept him awake at night when he let his thoughts run wild.

He feels as though something has been ripped from his life, leaving nothing but a gaping hole behind that seems intent on devouring him whole.

The same can be said for you.

Who knew you’d ever miss his teasing remarks while you shower? Or miss how you could complain to him endlessly about classes and then have him comfort you in the warm solace of his arms? Even the little things like walking to class together, now that you do it alone, it feels like there’s something missing.

The two you go on like that, thinking of the other every night before sleeping, tossing and turning with the thought of what could have been.

And eventually, you reach the point where you’re over it. Over pining after him day after day, peering out your door to make sure he isn’t around, or taking detours just to avoid him in the hallways. You’re over it. Enough that you’re willing to swallow your pride and confess to him, even if he doesn’t feel the same way—maybe you can fucking move on then.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you stomp to his dorm room, his roommate opening the door; his eyes widening upon seeing you. Immediately, he grabs his keys saying into the room, “I forgot I need to go to the store Atsumu, see you later.”

He leaves no time for Atsumu to protest, out the door in a matter of moments, leaving you standing in the doorway. Atsumu is just sitting in his desk chair, looking dumfounded at you, having fully expected to never see you again.

The gears in his head grind to a halt as you say, “This is stupid.”

He gives you a bewildered look, unsure what exactly you mean by that.

You steel your courage and press on. “I like you. And you like me. I think. And all this pretending that we don’t is stupid.”

After a few moments, his lips curve into a smile, the mischievous one you used to hate but now feel relief seeing. He can’t help the joy building in his chest at your confession. How many sleepless nights thinking about this very moment did he endure?

“You said it,” he teases.

Despite giving him a look, you do nothing to stop the grin rising to your lips. “Well, it didn’t seem like you were going to.”

His smile only widens, and he motions you into the room. “Get yer butt over here already.”

You move on instinct, striding into the room and climbing into his lap, settling your legs on either side of his you wrap your arms around his neck. The overwhelming sense that yes—this is exactly where you want to be, washes over you. He smirks up at you, his large hands resting at your waist, waiting for your next move.

“I can’t believe I actually missed that stupid smirk,” you say, lowering your lips to his, fingers slipping into the short hair at the base of his neck.

His smile hasn’t faltered, muttering against your lips teasing, “Does this mean I can shower at night again?”

A laugh bubbles out of you, but he smothers it in another kiss and refuses to let go.

[starlightrows]

At The End of My Rope

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Tags: Angst, pain, hair pulling, biting, co parenting, insecurity, a bit of comfort, early stages of a new relationship

Summary: All kids go through difficult phases, just because Grogu is an old man baby, does not mean he doesn’t go through phases that drive his caregivers crazy

AN: Normally I tend to write Grogu like we see him in the show. Sweet disposition, a little cheeky and mischievous. But I wanted to try something a little different, I was inspired to take on this challenge by this post. I hope I did an okay job!

Din had bid you and Grogu farewell earlier in the day. Giving his son a gentle pat on the head, and you a hesitant but warm embrace. A newer development in your budding relationship. He promised he would com if this job took him longer than the usual 3 days. You weren’t too concerned, this was the set up after all. He hunts, you take care of the child and the ship. But this time was different. You knew you were in for a long couple of days when he refused to eat his favorite dinner. Grogu beat his little hands against the table, tossing away the plate of steamed vegetables and seared meat.

“You better not be getting sick mister,” you warned, mostly to yourself. His skin didn’t feel hot, and he didn’t seem to be having any symptoms of illness. But it was very unlike him to turn down any food, especially his favorite. You cleaned up the fallen bits of food from the floor, and attempted to offer him some of your dinner. But he smacked it away as well.

You sighed and gave him a ration bar. For some reason he was happy to devour that instead. You would have preferred he eat the fresh food. Ration bars are no substitute for fiber and natural vitamins, and even though Grogu outnumbered you in years he was still a growing boy.

After dinner, you put him on the floor on one of the soft blankets you had purchased for him, and tried to entice him into playing with toys or reading a story from the datapad. But he wasn’t having any of that either. He seemed to be disinterested in everything that normally amused him. The only thing that kept his attention now was throwing anything you offered him.

“I think it might be a good idea to have an early bedtime,” you grumbled after catching the datapad mere inches from the floor. Those things aren’t cheap and you’ve only got the one.

You began your evening routine with Grogu. Dimming the lights in the hull. Bringing him into the fresher to wash his face with a warm rag, and brush his six tiny little teeth. He never liked that part, so you tried to be quick about it.

“Ow!” You yelped, recoiling your hand. “Grogu! Not nice. Don’t bite” The bite wasn’t bad enough to break skin, but it sure did hurt for such a little creature. Grogu squeals with delight, apparently unaffected by your scolding and discomfort.

You took him back into the main area of the hull, and tried to place him down in his crib. That wasn’t happening either. The moment you put him down he shot right back up, and yelled for your attention. He had always been a troublesome sleeper, waking up at least two or three times a night. So you picked him up again, and began walking slowly up and down the length of the hull. Braced against your shoulder, and being bounced gently usually did the trick. But tonight, he couldn’t get comfortable. He cried and complained. And you just couldn’t figure out why. So you just kept walking up and down the hull. Over and over and over again, until your feet were numb, your hips ached, and your eyes began to droop.

Grogu finally seemed to be drifting off. You figured you’d be able to keep this up until he was fully asleep, then you’d be able to get some rest too. A quick glance at the chronometer jars you out of your rhythmic pacing... it’s nearly morning. You’d been pacing all night long. Grogu stirred at your shoulder, snapping you back to the present moment. You continued your walking, and he settled easily.

When you were sure he was fully asleep, you lowered him into his crib, and tucked him in. Without bothering to wash your face or even change out of your day clothes, you collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep.

It felt like not even a full minute passed before your eyes shot open again, Grogu was awake and howling for attention. He had managed to climb himself out of his crib, up the storage crates, and up further on to the wall of the crest and gotten himself tangled up in the cargo net attached to the wall. He was dangling from his foot, and wailing. You launched yourself out of bed, and went to disengage him from the netting.

“How did you even get up there?” You ask him. He just giggles and babbles, squirming to get out of your arms. Another glance at the chronometer tells you that the both of you had gotten at least a couple hours of sleep. But not nearly enough by your reckoning. Hopefully he would tucker himself out by playing and the two of you would be able to take a nap in the afternoon. But first, breakfast... another battle of throwing his food at the walls, spitting and crying.

“What’s with you lately?” You ask the little one “You love oatmeal with moon peaches,”

He whines in response. You shrugged your shoulders and took the bowl away from him. Defeated, you unwrapped another ration bar and gave to him. He happily munched on it.

“I know you’re like 50 something years old, but this absolutely has to be your species equivalent to the terrible twos,” you told him, trying to wipe some stray oatmeal from his face and ears. He tried to nip at your fingers again, causing you to pull up short.

“Hey!” You scold him “We talked about this. No biting, remember” He peered at your with those big dark eyes, and shoved the rest of the ration bar into his mouth. You shook your head, and continued cleaning the floor where he’d dropped his oatmeal.

The day dragged on, things got a little better after breakfast. He seemed a little more interested in his toys today, and was content to play mostly by himself. By the early afternoon he was getting cranky and definitely needed a nap. He crawled up into your lap, and whined for some affection. You placed the datapad to the side, and brought him up to rest his head on your shoulder.

“You done being a grouchy pants?” You whispered, patting his back gently “Wanna take a nap with me?” He whimpered out a quiet little response. You decided it would be better not to even get up, instead you leaned back against the wall and closed your eyes. You’ve napped in stranger places.

You woke up again sometime later to intense pain in the side of your head. Your eyes snapped open, and you yelped at the pain. Grogu had a fistful of your hair and was yanking with such ferocious intensity it scared you.

“Grogu! Let go! You’re hurting me,” you cried out. He didn’t seem to be awake yet, it wasn’t on purpose. You shook him as best you could, trying to rouse him from sleep.

His own little eyes snapped open and he gave a final yank. The searing pain intensified as he pulled out your hair. You shrieked in pain. Grogu released the larger chunk of hair still attached to your head. You could not help the tears welling up in your eyes or the pained moans escaping your lips.

You set Grogu down on the play blanket, he rolled over and went back to sleep. The strands of your pulled hair fell to the ground. You rushed off to the fresher to look at the damage. You were relieved to find that it wasn’t all that bad. True he has gotten a fistful to pull on, but he had only yanked out a tiny amount. And it bled a little. Still the pain was excruciating, and it scared you to think your sweet little boy could hurt you this way.

“It’s not his fault,” you reminded yourself. “He didn’t do it on purpose,” You wiped away the blood with a wet cloth, doing a rather haphazard job of it. You went back to Grogu, and did your best to pick up the hair he had plucked.

You hoped the remainder of his nap wouldn’t last too much longer so he would sleep tonight. But alas, luck was not on your side this week. He slept far too long, threw more food at dinner, cried while you bathed him and insisted on being rocked all night long... again. The one silver lining being, he fell asleep at least a little earlier than last night.

The morning came again, and things seemed to be better. He ate two full bites of his oatmeal before throwing it at you. But he ate all of the moon peaches. You decided to count that as a win. He played with you today, and seemed to want your affection. But he refused a nap and by the late afternoon he was getting grouchy and mean. It all came to ahead when he reached up for your datapad when you weren’t looking, and knocked off the edge of the storage crate you placed it on. The screen made an awful crunching sound, and you knew without even looking at it... it was toast.

Grogu was frustrated. He wanted to read stories, but the datapad wasn’t working. “It’s broken honey,” you tried to tell him “it won’t work. The screen is cracked... and there’s probably something else broken on the inside,”

He whined and complained, and just could not be consoled. It occurred to you that he hadn’t had the opportunity to play outside, or with others aside from you and Din in weeks. Maybe this was the reason for his misbehavior and frustration. Maybe if this job Din was on went well you could convince him to take a day or two off at park the ship on one of the safer planets he knew of to let the kid run around and blow off some steam.... but you also knew that he had to keep hunting, and it was your responsibility to keep the kid entertained and safe.

By the end of the night, Grogu was exhausted, not having taken his nap, and unwilling to cooperate. So you skipped washing his face and brushing his teeth. You didn’t even bother cooking dinner for him or yourself, you just gave him the ration bar you knew he would eat. He seemed content to get in his crib, but wanted you to sit by him and rub his back. Exhausted you sat down beside the crib and indulged him.

He’s gone through so much in his little life. And it’s not like human children don’t go through difficult phases. But you were at the end of your rope. Not sleeping or eating enough, you hadn’t showered in a couple days, your head still hurt a bit where he had pulled out your hair... you didn’t even want to think about what you looked like right now.

You wished Din was here. Not that you’d feel comfortable asking for help. He had his own responsibilities to take care of and figure out. But the two of you had grown close in the last few months. A few heated moments and admissions of deeper feelings, but you were both still trying to figure out what it all meant and how to proceed with one another. In this moment you just wanted him close by, if for nothing else another person to witness that you were doing everything you possibly could in this situation.

You fell asleep that night leaning up against the cradle, head bent at an uncomfortable angle and your jaw hanging slightly open. And that’s how Din found you. After pushing his quarry into the carbonite freezer, he was shocked and mildly horrified to see you in such a state.

Puffy bags under your eyes, hair in disarray, what looked like dried blood hastily wiped away on your neck and chin. Grogu on the other looked perfectly fine. Tucked up in his little bed, sleeping peacefully.

Din decided it would be best to take off and leave this planet first, safer in hyperspace. He went up to the cockpit to start the flight sequence. Next he removed all of his armor except the helmet and boots. He gingerly placed your arm around his neck, wrapped his arm around your torso and the other hooked under your knees. He lifted you off the ground, and carried you the short distance to the bed.

He checked you for wounds, the source of the dried blood. He was confused to find no injuries or markings. He would have to ask you about it in the morning.

When morning came you became aware of two things. First, you were warm.... very warm. Warm from being held all night by strong arms, against a warm body. Second, someone was screaming... immediately you bolted out of bed and left Din scrambling trying to figure out why you had moved with such urgency.

Grogu had once again climbed himself up the storage crates, and somehow gotten up even higher on the cargo net before getting stuck. You climbed up on the crate and pulled him down as carefully as you could. Din tumbled out of the bunk, and watched you.

“You have to stop doing that,” you told Grogu, trying to tuck back his whispy white hairs. Only for him to bite your finger, again! You yelped in pain, and retracted your finger. That bite was harder than the first time.

“Hey!” Din’s sharp voice cut through the chaos. You turned to face him, still holding Grogu. Din stuck his arms out to take him, you passed him over.

“Grogu. Did you just bite her?” He asked sternly. Grogu’s ears flattened out, looking guilty.

“We do not bite. You know better,” he scolded. He took Grogu over to the corner of the hull, farthest away from the galley, the bunk, and the storage crates; and set him down.

“Sit there,” he said “And don’t move,”

Grogu’s big eyes watered, as he watched Din walk away. You stood by the door of the fresher, watching this interaction. You turned away, ducking into the fresher when Din turned to you. He followed you.

“Hey” his voice was gentler now “are you alright?”

You tried not to look at him, keeping your back turned. You knew you looked awful, and were feeling extremely insecure about your parenting skills at the moment. So to keep him at bay you nodded your head, “Mhm, I’m fine,”

He took another step towards you, and caught your hand tugging gently. You knew you wouldn’t be able to hide forever, so you gave in and turned to him.

“It’ll be a couple hours before we get there. Why don’t you take a shower and have a little down time,” he said

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m okay really. I’m just a little tired and a little frustrated with this phase he’s in right now,” you replied. His thumb stroked lovingly across the back of your hand.

“You’ll feel better if you rest. He can come sit with me in the cockpit for while you shower and eat. When he goes down for his nap, I want to talk to you about why there’s blood on your neck,” he said carefully. He wanted you to rest, but he also needed you to know that he was worried.

You’re hesitant to accept. He still needed to fly the ship, and probably had to have a video com with Karga. And someone had to mind Grogu while he did those things. You must have taken too long to respond, or maybe he can really just see right through you because he kept speaking.

“You’re not a bad parent for taking a break and having time for yourself. And it’s not your fault he’s going through a phase,” he told you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You drew him in, needing to feel the pressure of his embrace. “Thank you,” you whispered. He rubbed your back. Before he pulled away to let you bathe and rest, he couldn’t help himself, he had to ask.

“Why is there blood on your neck?” His voice was measured and careful, he really wanted to know, but didn’t want to show how much he was freaking out over it.

You gave a somewhat hysteric laugh, “He yanked a clump of my hair out,”

“Stars! Are you okay?” He was utterly shocked, that was the last thing he would have guessed would come out of your mouth.

“I’m fine,” you shook your head “We really need to let him play outside. He’s got too much energy, and not enough stimulation in this bucket of bolts,”

Din shook his head, “Yeah, if he’s bored enough to pull out someone else hair, we definitely need to get him out for some fresh air,”

[365days365movies]

January 3, 2021: Cliffhanger (1993)

Sylvester Stallone.

The Italian Stallion here is one of the most prominent action movie stars of the ‘80s and ‘90s, coming to prominence with Rocky in 1976. And before we even start this review, here’s the deal: I refuse to make fun of the man’s iconic voice. Yeah, I get it, we’ve all shouted “YOADRIAAAAAAH!” at some point, but his voice and face is due to a botched birth, which pinched a nerve and caused permanent facial paralysis. We all got something, and I’m not gonna target him for it. It’s been done enough.

I also can’t really comment on his acting ability. Why? Well...OK, some confession time. I’ve BARELY seen Stallone in a film. That’s going to be fixed this year, as I’ve added many of his films to the list for 2021. So, what have and haven’t I seen? Let’s start with haven’t, shall we?

I haven’t seen:

Rocky (1976): Sports November

Rocky II (1979): maybe Sports November

First Blood (1982): later this month

Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot (1992): Please. Please don’t make me.

Cliffhanger (1993): Give it a minute.

Demolition Man (1993): Science Fiction September

Judge Dredd (1995): maybe Science Fiction September

The Expendables (2010): later this month

I have seen:

Tango and Cash (1989): Dumbass buddy cop movie with Stallone and Russell; 2/5.

Antz (1998): Sub-par Dreamworks rip-off of an already kinda sub-par Pixar movie; 2/5

Spy Kids 3: Game Over (2003): Yeah...I saw this in theaters, on my birthday. I saw everything in red and green for, like, an hour afterwards. Worth it. 2/5.

Rocky Balboa (2006): Somehow, this is the only Rocky movie I’ve seen, Creed included. And from what I remember, it was fine. 3/5.

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 (2017): The ONE good Stallone movie I’ve seen, and it isn’t even a Stallone movie. 5/5.

So, yeah, I haven’t seen any good Stallone movies, sans the one. But now, some of you are probably asking another question: “Why Cliffhanger? You literally haven’t seen any major Stallone movie, so WHY CLIFFHANGER?”

First of all, I think everybody’s kinda slept on this movie. It was a big success back in the day, but people have basically forgotten it at this point. You’ll see in this review that there aren’t even many GIFs from the movie made, and it wasn’t easy to find enough clips to make my own, honestly. Does it deserve to get slept on? I mean, we’ll see, right? 

Secondly, I just watched a Tom Cruise movie where he dangles off of a rope, and I liked that, so why not do that for the next one, I guess! And third...honestly, I saw this on the list, and it kinda just spoke to me. It called to me, like a boxer calling to his love. Hey, look, a reference to a movie I’ve never seen. We’ll get there. We’ll get there. Oh, and SPOILERS from here on out, by the way.

Recap

We start on a cliff. Surprise.

Michael Rooker (y’know, Yondu from Guardians of the Galaxy) is hanging out (HA!) with his girlfriend Sarah on a cliff called the Tower. Y’know, third date kinda stuff. First date is dinner, second date is dinner and a movie, and third date is free-climbing up a cliff to your near death. Well...near is a strong word…

ANYHOOOO, We meet Gabe, played by the big man himself, Sly Stallion, who’s a rescue ranger in the Rocky Mountains. So, Rocky, the Rockies Rescue Ranger is sent to save Yondu and Sarah. Unfortunately...someone forgot to check the equipment before the rescue mission…

Not gonna lie, this scene is actually heart-wrenchingly tense. And the ending...well, if you’ve seen Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls...you know what happens here. And it’s actually somewhat traumatic, for Gabe and for me. Seriously. It’s a roughie.

Cut to almost a year later, and Gabe is...NOT OK. He and his wife, Jessie (who is a pilot for the Rescue Rangers, and was there when Sarah fell), have been separate, and Gabe just can’t do it anymore. And I get it, honestly. That was a hard experience, losing someone and blaming yourself. And no, it wasn’t Gabe’s fault. But to add insult to injury, he has NO SUPPORT SYSTEM. His wife doesn’t seem to understand, his former best friend Yondu hates him (getting GotG Vol. 2 flashbacks), and he’s basically all alone. Geez. You guys are jerks.

Meanwhile, a plot is afoot! And hey, it’s Tripp from CSI: Miami, AKA Rex Linn! I always liked him, so it’s cool to see him in other roles. Turns out, though, that Tripp is working with a group of thugs to steal from the US Treasury. This villainous group of 8 thugs is led by John Lithgow, AKA Lord Farquaad from Shrek, who is channeling Hans Gruber from Die Hard, and trying super-hard on that British accent. Anyway, after a pretty great mid-flight action sequence, the group of thugs loses 3 suitcases of money, amounting to millions. In the process, they also lose Expendable Thugs #1 and #2. This will be a trend. 

The thugs crash their plane into the mountain, killing Expendable Thug #3 in the process. They stage a rescue situation to get some expert mountain climbers to help them find the money. Jessie, after having just told her hubby to suck it up like a big boy (I don’t really like Jessie, by the way), begs him to help find these people. Reluctantly, he agrees, and has a tension filled reunion with his former best friend, who blames him (unfairly, in my opinion). That animosity disappears as soon as they find themselves held hostage by the thugs. And so, the money hunt begins!

First suitcase is on a cliffside, and Stallone goes to get it. Some shenanigans quickly ensure, and the thugs shoot at him. An avalanche occurs because these dumbasses have never seen a movie, and in the process, we lose a suitcase of money, Expendable Thug #4 goes the way of Sarah, and Gabe is presumed dead. Farquaad tells Yondu to tell his coworkers that everything is fine, and he’s gonna stay on the mountain to ride out the storm. Which is #5 in the list of “moments in this movie where I would 100% die” I grew up in a warm climate, this is not a comfortable hypothetical situation for me.

Anyway, our intrepid team of criminals takes Yondu to find the next suitcase, while Jessie and Gabe separately make their way to the cabin that Yondu was talking about. They catch each other up, and they can’t contact the main office because...Jessie’s radio died in the cold? You...you work amongst mountains as a rescue officer for stranded hikers. That’s the best excuse the writers came up with? Why the hell didn’t she bring a better radio? They HAD to have spares, right? RIGHT? Geez, no wonder you needed Gabe’s help.

The tracker, with its marvelously outdated computer graphics technology (IT’S A UNIX SYSTEM IKNOWTHIS), leads the thugs to the next package, but not before Gabe and Jesse get there! Gabe leaves a ransom note for the money, holding it hostage. This eventually leads to a nighttime chase in the snow, leading to Expendable Thug #5 going The Way of Sarah.

By the way, it’s also at this point that I notice that it is VERY bright...for being in the middle of the mountains at night. And I get it, you can’t exactly have your movie be shot in darkness, but...look at this.

Like...wow. That’s the fakest outdoor shot I’ve ever seen. I guess I’m glad it isn’t a day-for-night shot, but...yeah. Wow.

Jesse and Gabe find themselves in a cave full of the cutest goddamn bats I’ve ever seen. This is supposed to be a harrowing experience, but simply makes me jealous. They’re fruit bats, by the way, and they’re also WAY too high up, altitude-wise. At least, that’s what I assume. I’m a bird-guy, not a bat-guy. Eventually, they make it out of the cave after Stallone does some free-climbing...loudly. Loud enough for the super-violent, sociopathic, knife-and-gun-loving Expendable Thug #6 to hear them. And that’s when Gabe ICE-PICKS HIM IN THE LEG DAMN

Understandably pissed, and not as understandably still walking around without crying (#6 in that list of me-dying moments), the thug finds and beats the SHIT out of Gabe, handily.  But then, he calls Jessie a bitch, and Gabe is, above all things a feminist. Which leads to him, and read this CLOSELY:

This leads to Stallone, bloodied and beaten, PICKING THE THUG UP OVER HIS HEAD, AND IMPALING HIM ONTO A STALACTITE. Not a stalagmite, a STALACTITE. HOLY SHIT!.

Well, Expendable Thug #6 is dead, there’s a bomb on the mountaintop, Jesse almost goes The Way of Sarah, and Frank (another guy who works with them, don’t know if I mentioned him) gets lured into a trap where he gets killed. An “Aww” moment from me; I liked Frank, he seemed like a really nice guy. This eventually leads to Farquaad and Tripp out-crazy-ing each other, and Farquaad winning by killing Expendable Thug #7, who does not go The Way of Sarah (blessed be her fall).

Gabe finds the remaining money, while Tripp, Yondu, and Expendable Thug #7 get there just after. Tripp leaves, and Yondu then delivers my favorite line of the movie:

Oh, sorry, no, it’s, “In a minute, I’ll be dead. You will always be an asshole.” Thug #7 beats the shit out of Yondu, I get flashbacks to GotG 2, and Thug #8 goes THE WAY OF SARAH, BLESSED BE HER FALL. Tripp finds the tracker without the money, and officially loses it, outing himself and Farquaad to the government officials who FINALLY get here.

Tripp finds Gabe, they make their way to a frozen mountain lake, and Gabe SHOOTS TRIPP FROM UNDERNEATH THE ICE. That shouldn’t have worked for many reasons, but that was cool, so fuck it. Now, it’s just Farquaad, BUT HE HAS JESSIE! OH NOOOOOOOooooooo.

This whole thing culminates in a tense, cool chase sequence between Gabe and Farquad in the helicopter. The helicopter crashes into the mountainside, and the two fight while on the helicopter, which is now hanging from the cliff.

Oh. Oh, I get it.

This inevitably leads to Farquaad and the helicopter going, of course, The Way of Sarah. Blessed Be Her Fall. #BBHF. 

And that’s it. Our three heroes are, themselves, rescued by the government agents, and we pan away from the cliffside, as the credits roll. Boom. Cliffhanger.

Stay tuned for the epilogue, which contains the review!

[tisfan]

Title: Flickered Upon Ocean’s Insanity Written by: @tisfan Card: 3023 Square: R4 - SoulBond Rating: Explicit Triggers/warnings: enthusiastic dub con, sex pollen Tags: hydra has issues, Bucky Barnes! Winter Soldier, Sentinel/Guide AU, Forced Soulbonding, ambiguous ending, dub-con, sex pollen, bottom!bucky Created for: @tonystarkbingo Word count: 3560

A/N Title from poem by Munia khan

Tony Stark was not quite twelve when he manifested as a Guide. Youngest ever. With all the rights, privileges, and responsibilities that such a position had.

He started drinking too much by the time he was twelve and a half, and by fourteen, had such a bad reputation as being a troublemaker that no respectable Sentinel would even consider him as a partner. He’d gotten himself thrown out of not one, but three different training academies for Guides and his father threw up his hands, called him a miserable failure, and ignored him as much as possible.

So, Tony went on to MIT at fifteen, continued drinking, studied robotics, and blew stuff up on a regular basis.

It was a good life, he’d decided.

The drinking kept him from feeling other people’s… well, feelings. He had a good friend in his across the hall dorm mate, and by sophomore year, he and Rhodey were living together. He had his robots that didn’t have any messy human feelings at all, and he was as happy as it was possible to be.

Except for the hole. 

Everyone had always told him that, as a Guide, he would be incomplete, part of him forever missing, without a Sentinel to protect him, without a purpose for his empathy.

Twelve year old Tony had told people to leave him alone.

Fourteen year old Tony was even ruder, told people to kindly fuck off, only, not kindly.

Sixteen year old Tony mentioned a few times that he knew how to fill that hole just fine.

Eighteen year old Tony was beginning to wonder if everyone had had a point. But it was too late to worry about it now. He had no training, he was a shitty empath, he pretty much hated people, and he was very, very bad at calming himself down, much less anyone else.

So, drinking turned to drugs and an excess of sex, turned into endless nights in the lab trying to figure out the latest puzzle. 

He was fine.

That’s what he kept telling himself, anyway. He was fine.

Four days after his parents’ funeral, he was still telling himself he was fine.

His father’s business partner, Obadiah Stane, walked in, supposedly to console Tony about his parents. Or maybe to talk about the business. Tony didn’t know; he was stupidly drunk. And he didn’t much like Obie anyway. There was nothing much wrong with him, exactly, except that his emotions always seemed a tad on the slimy side. Tony ignored it, or drank his way past it. Obie was family.

Except this time, when he came in, Obie had a half dozen mercenaries behind him. “That’s him,” Obie said, and he held out a hand. A dark-haired man with scruffy good looks and a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, handed Obie a briefcase.

“Obie, what the hell is going on?” Tony asked.

The scruffy man punched Tony in the face without hesitation, the steady buzz of his emotional state not flickering even a bit. While Tony was spitting blood and trying to crawl away, the man tied him up, gagged him, and stuck a canvas sack over his head.

“We good?” the man asked, raising an eyebrow at Obie, who was counting through bound bundles of hundred dollar bills.

“He’s all but worthless,” Obie said.

“Obviously not,” the man said. “We paid you.”

“No complaints.” Obie ignored Tony’s yelling, pleading, cursing. Patted him on the cheek – as bad as Tony’s face hurt from the first blow, it was as good as a slap – Obie just grinned. “It’s about time you earned your upkeep.”

“Is it ready?” the man carrying Tony like a sack of woozy grain asked. Tony was struggling as best he could, but the man didn’t even seem to notice.

“Body’s planted,” someone else. “They’ll think he got drunk, set fire to the house by accident. He’s always blowing stuff up. No one will think twice about it.”

“Good.”

Tony was shifted in the man’s grip. Another man came up, eyed him. “Let’s keep the noise to a minimum.” He pulled something out of a case and– 

The last thing Tony remembered was the glint of reflected flames on the needle in the man’s hand and an acidic, garlic taste in the back of his throat.

“Count backward from ten, please–”

The Soldier was waiting. 

His new Guide was being prepared for him.

This one… was different. 

He’d been dismissed by the Handler. Which meant the Soldier could go to the gym and practice his fighting. He could go to the training room and oversee the Red Room students. He could report to the range and practice with his weapons.

He could, in fact, sleep, if there was nothing else that occurred to him.

But he was waiting.

Finally, finally, the technicians left the room. The Soldier waited until they passed, and then went to the maintenance room. His Guide was there, shivering, dressed in hospital scrubs. He was soaking wet, coughing, spluttering, on the floor. He’d been uncooperative, the Soldier thought. But as soon as the Soldier made a sound, his feet scraping against the linoleum, the Guide scrambled backward until he hit the wall. There was nowhere to go, and– the Soldier looked. The reactor was already in place, the skin around it puffy and red, a few staple-stitches where they’d made the initial incision.

“Guide,” the Soldier said.

The man blinked at him, eyes red and furious and hurt, and the Soldier realized that he was young, not even twenty, more than likely, more boy than man. “No, I don’t do that, I told them, I told them, I don’t do that,” he said.

“You will,” the Soldier said. “For me.”

“You’re a Sentinel?” the man’s scepticism was palpable. “You can’t be, you’re a–”

The Soldier waited for the Guide to finish his observations, the enamel smooth wall around the Soldier’s mind that kept him safe. The Guides had made it, the Guides would maintain it. No emotion in or out. No being overwhelmed by his senses. No zoning.

“You will be my Guide,” the Soldier repeated. He reached out his hand, not even close enough to touch the Guide. But he wanted to. It was strange, wanting a thing. He wasn’t supposed to want things. He ate when fed, slept when told, fought and killed under orders. He didn’t want things. He was the Fist of Hydra. 

There was something, though. Something about this beautiful boy. And the Soldier wanted him. Wanted to take care of him and comfort him and keep him from being hurt ever again.

“I don’t do that,” the Guide repeated. The mask that was keeping him upright crumbled a little as he stared around the room, cold walls, the instruments of torture and pain. The water trough. Everything he had been through, before and after, the reactor was implanted. And he probably didn’t even know what the reactor could do to him. His lip wobbled. “I don’t even know how.”

“I will teach you,” the Soldier said, infinitely patient. There was a thread in his mind, one that had never been there before, and he reached for it, tiny, and frail thing that it was. Like a silver strand that went straight from him, to his Guide. “I will protect you. Take care of you. Come with me.”

When the Guide raised a weary hand to let the Soldier help him to his feet, the thread thickened, strengthened, until it was not a mere spider’s web connecting them, but a rope, coiled, tying them together.

The Soldier lifted him up, and caught him when he swooned. Scooped him up in a bridal carry. 

The Guide looked up at him with wide, dark eyes, fragile like a deer’s. “What’s your name?”

The Soldier had a feeling this was not a question he was supposed to answer, but he couldn’t deny his Guide anything that was in his power to give.

“James,” he said. He tasted it on his tongue. Not quite right, but close. “My name is James.”

“Tony,” the Guide said. He paused, then, gently, very, very carefully, he asked, “What happened to you? What’s… what’s wrong with you?”

“A great many things,” James said, and he wasn’t sure which question he was answering.

Tony let the man who called himself James practically carry him, too weak, too tired, and too damn scared to do anything else. He thought he could be strong for torture, and he had. Denied them everything they wanted, with smart assed remarks and swears. He didn’t beg, although he did demand, when they asked him questions, who they were working for, why had Obie done this. 

What he didn’t ask was what they wanted.

They were pretty fucking clear on that. They wanted him to serve as Guide to their strongest Sentinel. 

Tony didn’t do that. He told them he didn’t do that.

It didn’t seem to make them stop. He would do it, or he would suffer.

“What is this?” he asked, tapping on his chest. It hurt, but not as much as he might have expected. He could feel the taps deep in his chest, like someone was playing the drums on his heart. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, and the humming that the thing made wasn’t comforting.

“Arc reactor,” James said. “It keeps you alive.”

“Funny how I was doing a great job of that on my own,” Tony muttered. It was sarcastic, but it was all that he could manage. He wobbled, knees going weak. He didn’t want to know how the machine in his chest was keeping him alive. It implied that someone could make him dead in a push of a button or something. 

Not that that had never been untrue; pull a trigger, poison a meal, cut a throat. It was amazingly easy to kill a human being by accident. It made one wonder why they kept doing it to each other on purpose.

Still, he’d have to know, eventually. If only because the first mandate of a prisoner was to escape.

James brought him to a room. It wasn’t a very nice room; smooth cement walls, a trifle colder than was comfortable, especially since Tony was still wet. No windows. Slick, linoleum floor. 

Not terribly well stocked with furniture, either.

Tony found himself staring at the huge bed that dominated the room, a king sized at least. White, hotel-style sheets, a thin blanket, and a truly ridiculous amount of pillows on top.

No table, no dresser, no chairs. Off to one side was a door, and through that door, Tony could see a shower, stacks of towels.

“What is this?”

“Bonding room,” James said. 

As if on queue, the door slid shut behind them and three deadbolts slammed home, one after the other, clack, clack, clack. Like nails in his coffin.

“But we did that,” Tony protested, his brain still stuttering on the stark reality of the bed, the lack of other amenities. A bonding, between Sentinel and Guide was often strengthened through sex; Tony knew that. Everyone knew that.

But Tony wasn’t sure that the bond between them could be any stronger than it already was. He’d never seen a bond like that; he’d never even read about one. Although, like all geniuses, he knew how much he didn’t know.

Tony uttered a cheerless laugh. “So, you’re going to what, fuck compliance into me?”

James blinked at him. “I can’t hurt you, you’re my Guide.”

Tony tapped the thing in his chest harder. “Hate to break it to you, pal, but I’m already pretty damn hurt.” What was he doing, he wondered. Asking to be, what…. Raped? Stockholme syndromed? Good cop, bad cop, Tony goes with and does what the nicest person who kidnapped him says? Yeah, Tony had always known he had self-destructive tendencies; he just hadn’t known it was that bad.

“I can’t–” James touched Tony’s chin, lifted it gently with a strangely cool finger. Tony kept his eyes downcast because he didn’t want to look, and then–

“Holy shit, you have a metal hand?”

“Arm,” James said, softly. “Goes up to the shoulder.”

“That’s… okay, I’m not going to lie, that’s kinda awesome,” Tony admitted.

“Tony, I won’t hurt you, I promise. You’re my Guide. I’m going to take care of you. Just like you take care of me.”

“You keep saying that like your people didn’t just rip a hole in my chest,” Tony screamed, nails digging into his palms as he struggled with what he rather reluctantly concluded was going to be a complete emotional breakdown, and fuck it, and fuck everything, he fucking deserved to have one. 

James’ eyes widened a fraction, and he took Tony’s hand, gently opened it up. Tony didn’t want to let him, didn’t want– he didn’t fucking want any of this, but James’ touch was kind and soft and Tony was going to end up sobbing into James’ shoulder, he just fucking knew it was going to happen. Once his hand was flat, James dropped a soft kiss into the center of Tony’s palm, looked up, and spoke in a bare whisper, the most perfect Italian Tony had heard since his mother used to sing him to sleep – before his father sent him off to the first of many terrible boarding schools. “I need your help,” he said.

Tony blinked, stunned out of his breakdown. “What?”

“We can work together, us against them.”

He kissed Tony’s palm again, the feel of his lips were smooth, subtle, sensual. Tony felt a stirring in his groin that he wasn’t prepared for. “What’s happening?”

“The air,” James said. “It’s coactusol. I can smell it. You will comply. I will comply. But I won’t hurt you. I’m… Tony, I am sorry.”

Tony snapped his hand back, used it as a shield over his mouth and nose, but he knew, he knew it was already too late. Fire was building in him, and he knew about coactusol. Alchem-X had gone under because of lawsuits involving their libido enhancing drugs. Supposedly a better Viagra, that worked on women, too, it was supposed to be for people who suffered from lack of interest, or other medical dysfunctions. Instead, it worked like some sort of sex pollen, forcing people to copulate or suffer from cravings, need, and eventually cramps and agonizing pain.

But it did create an urge, and Tony was feeling it. He panted for air and found himself pressing closer to James’ body, eager for skin to skin contact. He couldn’t stop looking at James’ mouth. “Jesus, the stuff works, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” James said. James nudged in, a little closer, nuzzling at Tony’s face until Tony helplessly tipped his chin, giving James access to his mouth for a sweet, utterly necessary, kiss. “I won’t hurt you. I want… I need it, you need it. We’re bonded. They don’t have– they don’t have to do this again, but it’s procedure.”

Those words should have been terrifying, and to some degree they were, but Tony hooked on the word – again.

“Do they do this to you? Before, I mean?”

“Every time.”

“What happens to your guide?”

James drew in a deep breath, let it out with a slow shudder. “Failure is punished. I fail, I fail them.”

Tony’s eyes ached, how wide was he stretching them open, and James’ hand came up to rub against his groin, which felt good, so good that he was almost sidetracked from their urgent conversation. “If they’re killed because of you, how are you supposed to protect me?” 

He wasn’t even sure he cared, he needed, he needed. James was already peeling out of his clothes, tactical gear and underclothes. It didn’t take Tony even half the time, a simple hospital gown and his drawers.

By the time James got his pants off, Tony was so hard that he ached, rubbing fitfully at himself, fucking up through his fist. James had a gorgeous cock, thick and smooth, bent a little to the right, a proud curve jutting against his belly.

James tugged Tony in, licking his way into Tony’s mouth. Between frantic, needy kisses, he offered a handful of promises, he’d protect Tony, love him, take care of him.

And Tony let him, because he didn’t know what else to do. Good cop, bad cop, aphrodisiacs in the air, death threat hanging over his head, it was all gone. Everything that was left was feeling and need, a fountainhead of emotion that was nothing he’d ever understand. Tony didn’t know where it was coming from, or what would happen when this was over, but right now, he needed.

“There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you,” James swore, and in that moment, Tony believed it.

He could feel, a bit, James’ emotions pushing at him, the senses dialed up to eleven, the heat of Tony’s skin, the smell of his breath, the sound of his heart, the taste of his mouth, the sight of him, naked and quivering. James keened, breathing coming faster, his heart pounding, too much, too much. He was trying to focus on one sense, to block the others out, but Tony could tell it wasn’t working, that he was an inch away from being lost to sensation, to zoning out, to being useless. Staring at the wall, unable to move, or think, until something broke it. 

Tony couldn’t afford that right now, and neither could James. If James zoned out while they had coactusol in their system would be painful for both of them. Looked like Tony was going to have to drive. Or, leastways, he didn’t want James to be topping when he went into the zone. That was a good way for everyone to have a bad time of it.

“Shhhh,” Tony said, and he brought James in for another kiss. “It’s okay, close your eyes, you don’t need everything right now. I’m right here.” He guided James to the bed, pushed him down lightly on it. “You just close your eyes, relax. I’ll take care of everything.”

There was lube next to the bed, and Tony supposed he ought to feel some measure of gratitude that they – whoever they were, really – didn’t expect them to go through with it with just spit. Although Tony absolutely would have, or a blow job, or something, because if he didn’t get some, and that right soon, he was going to explode.

Prep wasn’t tender, or playful; it was raw and unrestrained, and James was writhing against the sheets in no time, moaning. There was a small part of Tony’s backbrain that was protesting this; but really, it wasn’t like he hadn’t had sex with less consent. Drunken yes still means no and all that. James was eager, he was wanting it, and it really, in the end, didn’t matter.

They were bonded, they were probably going to end up fucking sooner or later, might as well be sooner, right.

“Promise you won’t hate me once the afterglow wears off,” Tony muttered. 

James made some wordless, needy noise under Tony, and it was too late to worry about consent, too late by far to do anything about their situation. 

He wondered if it was always like this, for James. Quite frankly, as strong a Sentinel as he was, he’d practically have to bottom, just because the temptation to zone out would be too strong to resist. Tony knew he didn’t want to be fucked by someone who might hit a zone out and be too distracted to stop. Or might hurt Tony. 

I’ll never hurt you.

“It’s okay,” Tony crooned, pushing in to that slicked, heated clutch. “I’ve got you, you just let me take care of you.”

James shifted, lifted his hips a little, urging Tony on. His breath sawed harshly in his throat and he thrust in, burying himself to the hilt in James’ compliant body. Gone was any thought of kindness, of tenderness. He was lost in the rhythm, pumping furiously, their bodies slapping together like slow applause. 

James reached backward, hand groping for Tony’s and Tony laced their fingers together, used that grip to drive himself even faster, harder, deeper. It didn’t take long until he was on the shuddering edge of it. “Your turn,” Tony whispered, and he guided James’ hand under his body. James seemed to get the idea, what to do, stroking himself almost punishingly hard.

Tony clenched his fingers against the flesh of James’ thighs, watching as the skin turned red, then white, then red again. He’d probably leave bruises and he didn’t care at all.

A harsh, shaking groan forced itself out of Tony’s throat, and he came like he was breaking in half. Crying out, sharp and shuddering, Tony came, spilling himself into his Sentinel.

And James was his, even as much as he was James’. It didn’t matter that it was what Hydra wanted, it was fact, and Tony couldn’t change it.

Not without breaking them both into pieces.

Afterward, James managed to roll over and Tony found himself cradled against a warm, sated body. “We’ll probably go again, a few times,” James said, stroking Tony’s cheek, the side of his neck, down his arm. “They won’t let us go, until they’re sure.”

“I’m already sure,” Tony said.

“Me, too.”

[the-gedonelune-times]

Thank You

Just as the title states, this is a Christmas/Solmare appreciation and thank you. I thought long and hard about what I wanted to try and do for this year’s anniversary. The only thing I could think of was a short story starring the wonderful characters that Solmare has given us. Those who have routes and those who don’t. (This story will be a reader insert, which was a bit hard for me because I think this is the first time I’ve written a reader-insert story, so I really hope I’ve done it justice.)

I know that right now, there’s quite a bit going on in the fandom, including some negativity regarding some of the new changes. The least I could try to do is try and write a thank you story and hopefully spread some smiles and positivity, because honestly? This game, as cheesy as it sounds, it probably the only reason why I’m even writing today. It gave me inspiration and motivation to keep pursuing my passion. So Solmare, thank you, thank you for releasing a game which has filled my life was joy and has kept the flame of passion alive in my heart.

"Clipboard...pen...shoot, where did I leave those papers at?"

While taking note of all the items I was needing for today, I realized that I was missing something important. A stack of papers with a list that was created just for today. I clipped the paper to the clipboard and began reading its contents, crossing out things on the list that were either completed or had been changed. As I did that I heard a tapping at the prefect office's window; fearing the worst, I carefully put down my stuff and made my way over to the window, pulling back the curtains and opening the window which revealed quite the sight.

"An owl?"

"Not just any owl, he's my familiar! Where are you?!"

"What do you mean 'where am I'? I'm here at the prefect office. I told you and the others that last night at the meeting."

"Yes, well, we could really use some more help over here. We're a little behind schedule over here."

"Why, what's going on?"

"We're having some issues with the decorations. Everyone has their hands full with all of the other tasks given to them."

Suddenly I heard a crash coming from Elias's familiar, followed by Elias' screams.

"Luca! Be more careful with those ornaments!"

"Sorry boss."

"Elias, we have a problem..." Alfonse's vice entered next

"What is it?"

"Felix is stuck in the massive tree we got."

"He what? How did this happen!?"

"Well...it's partially my fault, we were talking about the different kinds of trees and another student came along and accidentally cut one of the ropes binding the branches while we weren't paying attention. Now he's stuck somewhere in the branches with a lot of tree sap."

"You've got to be kidding me.."

"Um, guys?"

"Hey! Good to hear your voice!"

"Wait! Have you been listening this entire time?!"

"....yes."

"Ugh! Then hurry down here and help us! Oh and cut the call familiar!"

There was a sound of static and the owl began fluffing its feathers before leaping off the branch and then flying off into the blue sky. Meanwhile, I closed the window and moved the curtains back into place before grabbing my things and leaving the office.

I was checking my list once more the moment I reached the auditorium entrance, only to find my ears filled with screaming and people frantically running around. My eyes widened as I looked at the scene before me.

"Thank goodness you're here."

Elias ran up to my side, clearly out of breath.

"You weren't kidding when you said we were behind schedule." I sighed. "Okay, so give me a rundown on everything. What areas need the most help?"

"Decorations, including the ornaments -- speaking of which, Luca ended up breaking a few because of his carelessness. So Azusa, Leon and a couple of others are helping to make new ones."

"Alright, ornaments...tree..." I began jotting down on the paper. "Okay, so what about the lights?"

"Joel and Rex said that they have that all covered. They took a few students from the music club with them to help prepare."

"And the food and drinks?"

"Hisoka, Willem, Hugo, Vain and Yukiya are in charge of that."

"Vain's helping with cooking?"

"More like he's helping to keep Hiro, Zeus, and Ted away from eating everything, even though they're supposed to be helping set up the tables and chairs with me, Gray, Cerim, Lucious, Guy, and Caesar."

"Okay, I'm making a note of that, that way they can get an earful later." Once I was done writing, I clicked my pen and then put it into my pocket. "Alright, I'll go ahead and start making my rounds. If there's something else that comes up, send me a magic note."

"Will do."

Elias and I parted in two separate directions, with him going to go check on the setup and me, heading over to where the Christmas tree accident had occurred. By the time I got there, Alfonse was helping Felix brush the pine needles out of his hair, while Mel gazed at the tree, almost as if he was analyzing it.

"Hey everyone."

"Hey! Glad you could show up!" Alfonse beamed "As you can see, we're in a bit of a sticky situation at the moment."

"Can you please stop making puns of my predicament. At this rate, I'm going to be smelling like one of those scented pine cone air fresheners I hear about."

"But at least you'll smell like Christmas."

Felix grumbled something under his breath and then sighed.

"Anyways." Alfonse picked out a couple of more pine needles before tossing them into the small bowl he had right beside of him. "You're all done."

"Thank you, now can we please hurry this along so I can go and change into something a little cleaner."

"Right. Hey, Mel, we're going to be decorating the tree now, are you going to be helping us."

"That sounds like such a chore..."

Mel spoke nonchalantly before walking away.

"That human is one of the strangest that I've met so far."

"Mel just moves at his own pace and on his own agenda."

"Alfonse is right." I chuckled. "Mel has always been like that though. He'll probably show back up sooner or later and help out. But until then, I'm here to help out as much as I can."

I watched Alfonse and Felix give an appreciative smile my way before they began rummaging in the boxes, grabbing out multiple strands of lights.

"Now the real question is how are we going to get all of these things on there?"

"Simple, we'll use magic."

"For the whole tree? I can only imagine how tiring that will be."

"Tiring for you, but for me it'll be a piece of cake."

I watched as Felix put down the strand of lights on the ground before holding his hand in the air, waving it back and forth gently, which created rings of wind to wrap around each layer of branches on the tree.

"We'll drop the lights and that shiny stuff here and it'll travel up, wrapping itself in the proper place. Think of it as an upwards slide."

"That's incredible!"

Laughing, I took the strand of lights that Felix had put down and dropped it into the stream of air, watching it swirl and wrap around the tree. Alfonse followed suit and dropped his strand in there as well and before we knew it all the lights were on the tree. Then came the tinsel and when that was done, we reached for the ornament boxes.

"I'm not sure how well this is going to work for the ornaments."

"Perhaps I should change the current stream of air?"

"Or you could use our invention!"

A couple of new voices chimed from behind; it was Lars and Randy, each of them held a strange contraption in their hands.

"Hey you two, weren't you guys helping with the decorations for the tables and such?"

"We were."

"But we finished already."

"S-Seriously? That quick?!"

"Yep! With the help of our new invention."

"We call it...THE DECORATOR-INATOR 3000!"

Lars and Randy both shouted out with glee while holding up their inventions triumphantly above their heads.

"I keep thinking humans can't get any weirder and each time I'm proven wrong..."

"Hey, we're not weird. We're what you call...eccentric! Besides, after you see the power these things have, you'll be thanking us." Lars grinned.

"Shall we show them, Lars?"

"With pleasure, Randy."

The two of them began loading the water gun looking objects with ornaments before pointing and firing them at different parts of tree. Within just mere minutes, the tree was covered in ornaments, except for a few places that would later be filled in with the ornaments that Azusa, Leon and the others were making.

"Lars, Randy, that was amazing!"

"Haha, thank you!"

Lars and Randy took a bow and as they did, a small butterfly-shaped note came flying in my direction, landing in the palm of my hand. As I opened it and began reading the contents, I could feel the color drain from my face. It was from Elias and it looked like Vain was currently in a fistfight with one of the three hungry beasts, as he called them.

"You've got to be kidding me..."

"What is it?"

"I'll see you guys in a little bit, there's some things that are needing my attention."

I left the area as fast as I could, bolting right for the place where Willem and the others would be setting up. There I saw Vain with Ted in a headlock while Hugo was keeping Zeus and Hiro at bay with his magic, allowing Hisoka and the others to begin moving the food to their proper places.

"Zeus, Hiro, Ted! What is the meaning for all of this!?"

My voice boomed loudly, drawing the attention of not only them but others in the surrounding area as well.

"Hey, stay out of this."

"Yeah, they're denying us food and now they're attacking us."

Ted's words almost mumbled as he struggled against Vain's strength.

I sat my clipboard down and then proceeded to take a deep breath before shouting out as loudly as I could, sending a wave of primitive magic their way. Vain, Zeus, Ted and Hiro all staggered back a little bit, before looking at me.

"Good. Now that I have your attention, let me start by stating that you three." I pointed at Zeus, Hiro and Ted. "Were supposed to be helping unload the tables and chairs for Elias' team for setup. Instead, I hear about you all goofing off! So here's what's going to happen. All of you are going to go to your original positions, or I'll never make food for you ever again."

"But..!"

"Are you serious?!"

"Yes, I'm serious. Now go."

I watched as Zeus and Hiro left, once they did Vain let go of his grasp on Ted before looking at me.

"Nice one little bunny."

I rolled my eyes at his remark and reached out to my clipboard when a new voice called out.

"Nice one indeed."

"Viggo? What are you doing here?"

"I heard that the meathead and his little band of misfits had gotten themselves in a bit of a pickle. So I came out to check it out, sure enough, there was quite the show going down, one that I thoroughly enjoyed."

"There was nothing enjoyable about that at all." Hugo spoke up while glaring at Viggo. "How about making yourself useful and helping us next time with those idiots since you think you're such a tough guy."

I heard a scoff come from Vain as Viggo looked at Hugo with disbelief.

"Tsk. I got other things to do than help you guys."

Without another word, Viggo took out his pipe and disappeared within the smoke.

"So much for that. How about you guys?" I turned to look at the others. "Are you guys doing alright?"

"Yeah, we'll be fine as long as those fools don't come back again."

I sighed. "They always do this at any occasion. When they hear that there's going to be food, it's like they have feral instincts that kick in."

"Well, if they try it again, then I can't make any promises on their well-being."

"V-Vain..."

"Don't mind him." Hugo walked up to me. "He's probably grumpy that he has to actually do work for this event and not go and pick on Felix and Willem."

"Speaking of which...he..he hasn't tried to do anything to Willem, has he?"

"No. Not yet. I'm keeping him in line right now." Hugo smiled. "Point is, we'll be alright, thanks for helping out."

"Oh hey! Hugo?"

"Yeah?"

"What made you want to come out and help us?"

I watched as Hugo's face turned a light shade of red. "I didn't have anything better to do."

With that, Hugo briskly walked away, joining up with the others. Meanwhile, I took a look around and smiled. Everything was going smoothly now. The tree was set, the food was being set up and I was sure that Elias' team had probably set all the tables and chairs up as well. All that was left were the lights that were supposed to be hung up around the ceiling. That was supposed to be Rex and Joel's jobs, but I hadn't seen them at all yet.

"Hey, Elias?" I had just walked over to where Elias was at the great progress they had made.

"Oh, hey, what is it?"

"Have you seen Rex and Joel? I haven't seen or heard from them at all yet and I'm beginning to get a little worried."

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't feeling the same way."

"So you haven't heard from them either then?"

"Nope, not since they left with a couple of others. They said they had something planned for us. "

"I hope they show up soon..."

"Hey, it'll be alright. How about we take a breather. You've been working yourself pretty hard. Bouncing back and forth from station to station to help and even keep the peace."

"I don't know..."

I watched as Elias pulled a chair out and gestured for me to take a seat. I took up his offer after pondering for what seemed like an eternity. Elias then pulled out the chair next to me and took a seat.

"So, I never asked this before, but why in the world did you decide to come up with and organize this whole thing?"

"I got the idea after I heard some students talking. They said they couldn't go home for holidays for their own personal reasons. So, I decided to come up with a plan to host a big Christmas party here at the Academy for all the students that are staying here. That way they don't feel alone during the holidays. When brought it up to Schuyler, the idea was almost immediately accepted. But, I had to make sure that everything would fit the Academy rules and would be cleaned up and in tip-top shape afterward."

"I see. That's rather a thoughtful thing to do."

"You know what surprised me the most though?"

"What?"

I smiled and leaned back into my chair.

"I'm surprised that all of you have come together to help me out with this. I mean, you and Alfonse could have gone home already for the holidays."

"We both wanted to help you out first before going back home. For the last five years, we've all had Christmas together. I suppose it's become such a common thing that the thought of not having a Christmas spent you and the other would be...weird."

"I feel the same way."

Elias and I chatted for a little while longer before a magic note had landed on the table right in front of Elias. I watched his face as he read it and watched as he raised an eyebrow.

"Something wrong?"

"Well...yes and no." Elias then handed me the magic note and I began to look over the contents. "It looks like Joel and Rex teamed up with Nox and Clive and they'll be unveiling the lights later on when the sun goes down."

I put down the letter and sighed. "Let's hope they'll be there or the lighting ceremony won't go according to plan."

"Even if it doesn't, everything will be alright. We'll bounce back from it."

I smiled. "You're right."

Minutes blew by and soon a couple of hours passed before Joel and his team returned back to us. Other students had gathered at the Auditorium by this point, all were engaged in chatter or dancing to the music that was being played through speaker magic. Even Klaus, Vincent and Glenn were engaged in chatter while taking drinks of their punch. Everyone seemed to be in such a good mood that it brought a smile to lips. That's when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"We're ready to go whenever you want to gather everyone up."

"Awesome! Hey, everyone!" I grabbed my wand and recited an incantation which was followed up with a puff of pink smoke. "Hello? Testing one, two, three."

Everyone began gathering around after I had cast my own speaker magic.

"Alright everyone, it's with great joy that I announce that the lighting ceremony for this year's party is about to begin!"

Applause filled the room and I stepped out of the way for Joel and the other to take their place. Suddenly, there was a spotlight of light magic coming from a few students who held their wands up high, shining down on Joel and Rex. Rex had a portable keyboard that he had set up and was now beginning to play. His fingers moved gracefully over each key as each cheery note filled the room which soon followed by Joel's sweet soothing voice.

He matched the same key that Rex was playing in and timed every single one of his notes to the keyboard. As the music began to reach its peak, so did Joel's singing which began to send orbs of light soaring through the room like shooting stars through a beautiful night sky. Gasps filled the room as some of the lights which hovered like small little lanterns, while the others shot out towards the tree, lighting it up instantly.

There was a roar of applause and clapping when the music died down. Joel was practically breathless as he walked down from the small stage that had been set up. Afterward, people resumed their normal conversations. I had just scooped out a bit of punch into my cup when I looked out at the scene before me. Smiles could be seen and laughter could be heard filling up the room.

"Thank you...for another wonderful year." I smiled. "and to many more.."

I lifted the cup to my lips and took a sip before heading over to the center of the room to converse with everyone. I was beyond happy to have made it another year with the ones I loved the most and I hoped that the future was filled with more fun-filled years just like these.

[somuchbetterthanthat]

i’m highly embarassed at a misread I’ve made of a post, so now i’m just distracting myself by diving into @sceptiqueveille ‘s challenge for me (sorry love, it’s three not five). 

This story is very much about Jon being pinned to walls. 

[warning for absolutely not-discussed-properly-unealthy-bdsm-practice/kinks-in-the-middle]

“This is such a bad habit and you know it,” Georgie tells him; 

She’s a little bit drunk, and it takes her several seconds to light up Jon’s cigarette; Jon takes a puff and leans against the wall; Georgie puts the lighter back in his jacket, and then keeps her hand right there, seeking some warmth into his pocket. He offers her the cigarette. She takes it, hums around it more than anything, and then she repeats: “A terrible habit. You’re quitting tomorrow.”

“Right until Harry’s next monologue about his incredible adventures in the States,” Jon agrees dryly, and Georgie snorts.

“God he’s awful, isn’t he?”

“I could smoke my whole pack of cigarettes and I’m sure he’ll still be on and on about the freedom and peace that comes with endless deserted roads.”

“Mmm.” Georgie leans in and lets her other hand rest of Jon’s stomach, warm and firm. “You could do something so much more pleasant than smoking, you know.” 

Jon’s eyes flutter as she stares up at him, her lips curled into a teasing smile that he’s learnt to read as flirting over the past few months. He feels his heart skips a beat; it’s not new anymore, Georgie and him being a thing, but it still randomly hits him that he loves her, and that for some absurd, uncanny reason, she seems to like him back. 

“Is that so?” he asks, and tries to keep his tone cool and collected, as though he could manage to hide anything from her. 

“Mm-mm,” she nods, and steals the cigarette from his fingers; she crushes it before he can protest (those things are getting expensive, and he’s not even nearly done -) and throws it with rather exceptional precision into the bin a few meters away before bringing back her hands, both of them this time, on Jon’s chest. 

She pushes him lightly, without any proper force in it, but he lets himself fall more against the wall and bends his head obligingly as she gets on her tiptoes to kiss him. Her lips are warm and sweet and familiar; Jon closes his eyes for a moment and raises his hands to put them on Georgie’s hips. Before he can do that though, she moves herself and grasps his wrists, pinning them back to the wall. 

“Georgie,” he breathes out against her mouth, flushing brightly. 

His heart has skipped another beat, for a whole different reason. She laughs as he hisses ‘we’re in public’ 

“Do you feel indecent, Jonathan?” she grins up to him, her thumb gently caressing Jon’s wrist. 

“I - I mean, you can’t just -”

“I thought we said I could,” she sing-songs. 

“We’re in public,” he repeats, faintly. 

“Relax, Jon,” she tells him; she presses another kiss on his mouth, and he does, instinctively, eases up into it. “I’m just kissing my gorgeous boyfriend. Nobody can be shocked about that. Besides, they’re all riveted by Harry’s stories, remember? Or drunk out of their minds.”

She steps closer still; her hands are firm, but her grin is bright and happy and soft and Jon forgets to worry, because he really wants to kiss her some more. 

“Okay,” he says and his cheeks are a bit pink when she laughs again and says you’re so easy for me Jonathan Sims. He doesn’t try and deny it, just grins back against her mouth and lets himself be kissed.

*

Jon doesn’t expect Elias to get up; to be fair, he’s past any fancy idea of Elias doing anything at all, apart from sitting at his desk and listening to him rage on with a mild and patient air that makes Jon even angrier. Today is in no way different, only there’s something thrumming in Jon’s skin, skittering at the edge of his brain and he can’t bear to be down at the Archives where guilt eats at him every time he crosses path with his assistants, and there is usually something satisfying about yelling at Elias about his uselessness. 

But Elias rises up and, more than that, takes off his jacket and takes a few steps towards Jon. Jon - because he has some sort of self-preservation - takes a few steps back.

“What are you doing?” he snaps; Elias hums at the compulsion; doesn’t answer, of course, though his lips twitch with the hint of a smile that Jon refuses to admit makes his mouth dry.

“You’re on edge,” Elias says after enough time has passed that they’re both sure it’s not forced out of him. “You haven’t slept in days, you’re angry and worried and needy.”

“I -”

“You want answers I won’t give,” Elias continues; he takes another step - Jon’s self-preservation battles with his curiosity at the change in their usual scenario. He wavers on his feet. “Fortunately, you’re also seeking some sort of control, and that I’m more than ready to help with.”

“Wha -” Jon begins, but then Elias’ hand is suddenly resting on his throat, firm and heavy.

He doesn’t squeeze, but Jon stills all the same, eyes darting up to meet Elias’; it feels like falling; the intensity of his piercing, burning blue eyes hits Jon like a slap and he gasps; it feels like the entire world is watching them and the pressure is terrifying and - slipping from him, already. His mind arches towards it and Elias offers him a sharp, fond smile, his thumb rubbing over his skin before his grip tightens. Not long nor hard enough as to entirely stops Jon from breathing, but enough that Jon shudders violently.

“Just a tad too soon yet, Jon,” Elias says, almost gentle. “But you’ll get there. And I’m sure it’ll be as magnificent as promised. But for now, we’ve got other matters to address -”

Jon tries to think of something to snark back at him, but Elias starts walking again, his grip of Jon’s throat still strong, and Jon finds himself stumbling backwards clumsily until his back hits the wall; it occurs to him he should fight, raise his hands, or do - something. Anything. But he just watches Elias watching him, studying him, until Elias nods and says: ‘well’ and starts squeezing. 

Jon’s instinctive reaction is immediate; his hand jerks up to grasp at Elias’ wrist but Elias just squeezes harder, and Jon’s mouth opens hopelessly, seeking air and failing to get any; his legs buckle underneath him as Elias’ other hand comes to rest upon his chest, right onto his heart, which is beating wildly and loudly. He doesn’t know how long it last; he knows that Elias’ grip tightens and tightens until he can’t think of anything else but that, until his whole brain screams for air, all other thoughts forgotten or discarded; he knows that even this disappears, until all that’s left is the pressure and the pain and the utter, impossible peace that comes from it; (and, underneath it still, beyond his blurry vision, and the black spots that color it, beyond Elias’ piercing blue eyes he hasn’t stopped looking into, something else is watching, something that’s -)

The pressure decreases; Jon is weeping; breathing hurts as much as being forbidden to; Elias moves closer, his hand leaving Jon’s throat to gently wipes away a few tears, and he lets his forehead fall against his. Jon blindly grasps at his shirt.

“Very good,” Elias murmurs. “You’re doing so very good Jonathan.”

They exhale together the same shaky, reverent breath. 

*

Martin doesn’t push him against the wall, exactly; he guides him there, hands on Jon’s shoulders, firm and gentle at once, and once Jon’s back is against it, he doesn’t move for a while; Jon knows he’s waiting to see if Jon will try to move or not. It happened, before; Jon wants to be good for him, most times desperatedly so, but his will is not - what it used to be. Sometimes, he is too hungry; too on edge; even now, he can still feel it, the bright minds two floors up, full of stories that he hasn’t gotten yet, but he stays very still, because he is downstairs with Martin, and that’s more important. 

“That’s good,” Martin smiles, sounding pleased, and Jon breathes out, tension uncurling slightly in his stomach. “I’m still going to tie you up a bit, alright? Not because I don’t trust you,” he adds, very seriously, raising a hand to gently caress Jon’s cheek. “Just because it sounds nice, right now.”

Jon nods slowly; he doesn’t trust his voice right now; he’s too curious as to what Martin wants to do. Instead he watches him. Martin looks a bit tired, but he always does these days - lots of pression comes with being the head of the Institute’s assistant, as well as, well, Jon’s... manager, if that’s the world for it - but his eyes are soft, his expression calm and confident and that’s always lovely to lean into. Jon wants to pry into his head, wants to know him, understands everything he’s feeling right now, even as his hands slides down Jon’s arms, careful and slow, spinning web around them, but he restrains himself, as always.

Martin doesn’t like that and anything Martin doesn’t like him doing he assumes to be wrong these days. He has to have some sort of moral code. Martin and him both agree on that. 

It’s odd, being pinned to the wall by Martin’s thin strands of web. It isn’t heavy like chains or rope, or even ribbons, but it’s stronger, somehow; Once Martin has reached his hands, Jon gives a soft, experimental tug, and finds he’s completely immobilized. His heart flutters, He licks his lips, 

“Good,” repeats Martin. He caresses Jon’s cheek again, and Jon instinctively leans into it; that makes Martin grin, soft and happy. “How do you feel?”

“Fine,” Jon breathes out. 

“You know I need more than that,” Martin points out. His voice is still gentle, but Jon can feel the way he pulls at his string; it makes him shiver. 

“I’m hungry,” he says, more honestly. “There’s someone upstairs I need to hear the story of. They’re really -”

“You read a statement this morning, Jon,” Martin comments lightly. Jon wants to protests that it’s nothing comparable, but he knows Martin is already aware of that. So he breathes out, slowly, and says “right.” and it’s worth it for the way Martin’s smile widens again, and his thumb passes across his lips. 

“I’m happy being here with you,” he concludes then, stiff and honest too, and Martin’s thumb stills on his mouth. Jon presses a light kiss on it. He knows he’s supposed to wait but surely that barely counts. 

“You know the rule,” Martin says all the same, almost instinctively, though his gaze is so full of love that Jon’s legs feel very weak. He’s grateful for the web, suddenly. 

“Please,” he manages to say, all the same. “May I have a kiss?” 

“As much as you want,” Martin answers and his hands are tender on Jon’s face when he bends down to kiss him. Jon doesn’t try to go against his bonds again, just hums against Martin’s lips, and it’s already hard to think of anything else than the warmth of his mouth when Martin murmurs, several kisses later: “I’m so happy you’re here with me too.” 

[cryysis]

Siren’s Song

The Kraken will drag your ship to the bottom of the sea. A sea witch will steal your soul and leave your bones for the briny deep. Jones will offer you a deal, and haggle you into eternity.

But the mermaids. They are the Ladies of the Waves, the call on the rocks. Mermaids are sweet and will sing you to your demise. They are cousins to their warriors, the siren’s who drag their sailors beneath the waves. The siren’s do not sing so often as their lovely cousins, but any sailor will tell you their song is twice as deadly. Nothing breaks the spell of a siren’s call, and no man who has ever heard it with his own ears is ever seen again.

They both knew what she was. But she never sang for him. He never understood why.

And now she’s gone.

He knelt on the dock, untying his boat from its post. The morning was soft and misty, the sun a dying candle through the fog. He could hear the water as it lapped gently at the posts beneath him, the small waves breaking against the rocky cliffs of the lighthouse. When he raised his head to drop the rope into the boat, he saw ribbons of copper and brass floating by the wood.

So. She was back.

                                                               *

He had never believed in ghosts and monsters before he saw her. Never believed in the stories old drunk sailors shouted at the taverns, the ones about sea witches and the Kraken, Davy Jones and his locker. Mermaids.

Then one day out at sea he saw something circling beneath his boat. He’d no notion of what it was, only that it seemed to pose no threat to him. But his nets had been moved by the currents, and he had to fetch them back.

                                                              –

“You stink like human,” she said tartly.

“I always smell like a human. I am one, if you remember.”

“But even more so when you come back from your ‘mar-kets.’ I do not like it then. You should swim in the ocean more. The smell will lessen.”

He almost mocked her, but then she would get angry and leave. He wasn’t ready for her to go yet. “If I don’t go to the markets I don’t get paid. Eli and I would have no money for food.”

“Money. You have said that word before. It is how humans trade?”

“Mhm. We trade money for food and goods.”

“And this money, what does it look like?”

Quirking a brow, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few coins. She picked one up from his hand with her claws? Talons? And took her time inspecting it. “If you had more of this, you would not have to go to the mar-ket as often?”

“Not as often, no. But in order to have more of it I have to work for it, and that means going to the market.” He grinned. “And stinking like a human.”

She wrinkled her nose and handed him back the coin. They didn’t speak of it again, and he thought nothing of it when she didn’t return to the docks the next day, or the day after.

                                                             –

It was a while before she spoke again. “I have something for you.”

He turned to look at her, raising a brow in mild concern. “It’s not more money, is it? I’ll end up getting robbed at this rate.”

She waves a clawed hand dismissively. “It is not money, no. And did you not say you are a warrior? Fight them off if they trouble you so much.”

He didn’t bother telling her he’d already dealt with a few. “What do you have then?”

“A gem,” she said. “You will wear it.”

“Oh really?”

She frowned at him, displeased with his reaction. “Why do you question me? You will do this.”

“I’m not a woman. I don’t wear jewelry.”

“You will wear this.”

He sighed, hiding the quirk of his mouth with his hand. “And what makes you so sure of that?”

She eyed him shrewdly, judging the measure of his words. Then she smiled, sharp and knowing. “Because I have said so. You will like it, it is your color.”

With that, she opened one of the small straps of her belt and pulled out a long golden chain. When she held it up for him to see, his eyes landed on the large garnet pendant, uncut but polished by the waves.

“And what is this supposed to be?”

“You are foolish for a human,” she ignored his snort of exasperated amusement, raising herself higher in the water to reach around his neck.

The sudden closeness of her drew him short. She muttered to herself as she fumbled with the trinket’s clasp, the wet tendrils of her hair catching against the stubble of his cheek. For the first time with her, he allowed himself a brief moment of weakness: he turned just enough to smell the ocean in her hair. Unbidden, his hand moved to feel those strands between the pads of his fingers, but it was not to be. She pulled away, inspecting her handy-work with an air of satisfaction.

His eyes were drawn to hers as her fingers settled over the stone hanging at his chest. She leaned close to the jewel, pressing it to her lips and whispering in something that sounded like another language. This time their eyes caught; his warm with something he wasn’t ready to name, and hers brimming with power.

He tried to speak, but had to clear his throat against the dryness in his mouth. He gave her a look when he thought he heard her laugh, but she only smiled, sharp and playful. Damn her. “So. What, uh… what was that?”

“A blessing,” she answered, fingers moving to the stone again. “Whenever you travel out to sea, if the winds are too strong, this will tame them for you. If a storm approaches, this will make the currents remove you from its path. Do not abuse its power, and you will be safe.”

The longer she spoke, the more he heard the distant call of a song in his mind. He would swear she wasn’t singing, and yet…

His fingers found her cheek, and she looked up to him in surprise. Their eyes held for a long moment, and the call grew sweeter, more and more tempting the longer their gazes met. Tentatively, her hand moved to his cheek, mirroring his touch. His eyes closed of their own volition, pressing more fully into her hand…

“Lyyy!”

Eli’s voice pulled him back to his reality, and he looked to their home where she was calling him from.

The siren was quiet when she spoke, as if reluctant to break the bubble surrounding their world. “You love her, yes? Your sister?”

Lysander’s smile was small but fond. “She’s a brat when she wants something, but yes. I love my sister.”

He could hear the smile in her voice now. “And your human mate? She has your love?”

Luciel. The thought of his dead fiance twisted his heart, his hand dropping from her cheek to curl to a fist in his lap. “There is always a part of me that loves her. She’ll hold my heart for the rest of my days.”

“Good,” she said, slipping back into the water. “It is late. I must return.”

He nodded in understanding. It was for the best. He could still hear the echoes of a song in his mind. “When are you coming back?”

She looked to the sky as she took a moment to think. “The moon will be at full circle tomorrow. Use the blessing the day after. I will return three days from then.”

“So five days from now,” he said, swallowing hard at her nod of agreement. “What if I want to see you before then?”

She looked briefly surprised, but then pleased. She tapped the center of her chest, where the stone lay on his. “If you have need of me, hang the stone in water and call to me with your heart. I will hear it, and come when I can.” With a parting nod, she dove below, disappearing beneath the waves.

Eli called his name again, and Lysander stood to full height, hand going to the pendant. “With my heart, huh?” He lifted it, bringing the cool gem to his lips where hers had rested. “Damn.”

                                                             –

He didn’t know how to tell her that it didn’t matter that she never sang for him. Her voice rang in his mind day and night. It came to him, louder and louder, until even a whisper sounded like a song.

                                                             –

“You lied!”

“I didn’t lie! I told you–”

“You said your heart belonged to another! Your human mate, you told me you loved her!”

“I do love her! A part of me always will.” Anger and frustration burned in his throat, but he fought for patience. “But Luciel is gone and buried. She has been for three years now.” Admitting it out loud didn’t hurt anymore, and he needed to make her understand. “I loved my fiance, Lady. But she wouldn’t want me to wallow in despair. I know she would want me to try.” He dropped to a knee at the edge of the dock, pleading with her. “Hearts change, Xotchil,” he tried to ignore her flinch at his use of her name, “and mine is calling to you.”

“No,” the siren’s eyes were filling with tears, fierce, full of rage and despair. “I will not sing for you, human. You will stay here, where you belong. You will stay.”

“You can’t make me stay!”

His yell drew her up short. Her eyes, green as the ocean she swam in, considered the man before her–and her shoulders sagged, the rage leaving her. All that remained was the despair, making her small, sad… almost human. “No. I cannot make you stay.” She shook her head, and the despair left her too, and instead he was faced with the warriors determined stare. “But I can go where you cannot.”

His eyes go wide. It hadn’t occurred to him that his might be her answer. That asking to go with her would make her leave. “What–Xotchil–”

“I will not return. Good-bye, Lysander.” She dove beneath the surface, vanishing into the brine.

“Wait!” The water stung his eyes as he jumped in after her. He lost precious seconds getting back to the surface, desperate for a flash of copper tail. “Xotchil!” The water was ice on his skin, but he couldn’t stop. Stopping meant losing her, and losing her– “Xotchil!”

He swims as far as his body will let him, and nearly drowns from the effort. He only survives because instinct drives him, and he treads water, screaming against the crashing waves surrounding him. “Xotchil!”

The shouts of her name don’t bring her back, and the combination of freezing waters and the storm moving in forces him back to the dock. He’s a shaking mess on the water logged wood, body wracked with cold and pelting rain coming down on his head. He has to get inside before he dies of hypothermia, but he can’t give up. He’ll find her, somehow.

Days turn into weeks, and there’s no sign of his siren. He’s been careful about spending the gold pieces she left him before she disappeared, but eventually he has to go back to work. He dreads every day of it, the sickening smell of human sweat and rotting fish making his gorge rise. It’s no wonder she hated the smell.

Night after night he goes back to the docks, heart aching. He knows his ship isn’t enough to survive a long trip out to sea, or he’d have gone looking for her already. And he can’t leave Eli. So he waits.

And every night as he dips the cool garnet stone into the water, calling with everything he is for her… every night, he hopes.

[precuredaily]

Precure Day 152

Episode: Yes! Precure 5 04 - “The Tranquil Cure Mint!” Date watched: 4 October 2019 Original air date: 25 February 2007 Screenshots: https://imgur.com/a/r27tc5L Project info and master list of posts: http://tinyurl.com/PCDabout

Okay I’ve gone this long without talking about it, so before we continue, it’s time for THE ROAST OF KOMACHI’S HAIR

Her hair is evenly kept chin length all around her head except for a chunk in the back that reaches to her mid-back. It’s not a ponytail, it’s a thin section of her hair that is wildly longer than the rest. Now of course, anime hair is known to be absurd, but in Precure this is usually kept to their transformed states. Everybody else on the team (or eventual team) has pretty standard hairstyles: Nozomi has two small pigtails, traditional bangs, and wears the rest of her hair at shoulder length, Rin’s hair is short and curls out from the sides of her head, Urara wears long twintails, and Karen has long loose hair with neatly trimmed ends. Komachi is the standout with her absurd style. When she transforms it gets even weirder: the body of her hair poofs up and resembles Cure Bloom’s hair, while the bit in the back splits into two extremely long strands that reach her knees. This is still pretty wild but she’s on a team with a girl with hair loops and another with hair cones so she shares the weirdness among the team. I will never understand what the character designer was thinking when they came up with Komachi’s hair. Maybe there’s an interview out there where they explain it, I’d really like to know, because it is ridiculous.

Okay now that that’s out of the way, let’s actually talk about the episode....

The Plot

Rumors are starting to spread around the school about the strange phenomena that keep occurring. Karen discusses it with Komachi one morning and they find it odd that Urara has begun hanging out with Nozomi and Rin. At lunch, Coco reminds the three of them they still need to find the Precures of Tranquility and Intelligence, but they’re interrupted by Karen and Komachi confronting them about their perceived connection to all the suspicious activity. Nozomi sees an opportunity and decides to come out and explain that they’re Precures fighting Nightmare to protect the Dream Collet, and would these two like to help them? Nozomi explains how she thinks these two fit the qualifications Coco described, but they don’t really believe or understand what she’s saying, and Karen leaves in frustration. Komachi lags behind to say it was a lovely story, and she’d love to hear more sometime.

Meanwhile at Nightmare, we find out Gamao has gone MIA after failing his mission, and of course Girinma is still in isolation, so a third agent is called in to collect the Dream Collet: Arachnea. (You get one guess what kind of animal she is). She boasts about how much more capable she is than the other two, and Bunbee basically responds “I hope so.”

Back at school, Rin has soccer practice, Urara tries to find Karen at a student council meeting, and Nozomi approaches Komachi in the library and discovers her writing. Komachi admits that she has wanted to be a novelist since she was very young, but all she gets is dismissal and mockery when she tells people that. Nozomi, however, encourages her and says she’ll support her dream! After all, that’s what she does best. They go for a walk outside and Komachi inquires further about the “story” Nozomi was telling earlier about Precure. Nozomi clarifies that it wasn’t a dream and explains the whole situation, and Komachi finally believes her but admits Karen is more stubborn. Before they can continue, spider webs suddenly come out of a nearby manhole and pull them down into the sewer, where they’re confronted by Arachnea herself, demanding the Dream Collet. She creates a Kowaina out of sewer water and chases the girls, who end up at a dead end. With no other options, Nozomi transforms in front of Komachi, kicks the monster, and they run off together.

she just keeps kicking and kicking and kicking and kicking and....

At the same time, Coco has detected the presence of Nightmare and tags Rin and Urara to try to find Nozomi. They manage to follow her down the sewer and meet up with the missing girls. Rin and Urara transform in front of Komachi, and begin to fight the Kowaina. Arachnea wraps Dream and Komachi in webs and screams that they had no right to dream, that dreams are just illusions. Komachi takes this personally, and retorts that dreams are important and Nozomi is the first person to believe in and support her dream, and in turn she wants to support Nozomi’s dream as well. Her strong emotions summon a green butterfly, which disintegrates the webs binding Komachi before landing on her wrist and becoming a Pinky Catch. Not missing a beat, Komachi transforms into the Precure of Tranquility, Cure Mint! The Kowaina tries to attack them, but Mint uses her special attack, Precure Mint Protection, which is a butterfly that takes the form of a rapidly expanding shield. The monster is knocked back and Dream takes this chance to finish it off with Dream Attack, and Arachnea retreats, muttering about how she’s going to explain this to Bunbee.

The commotion in the sewer has attracted a crowd, and as Nozomi, Rin, and Urara climb out, Karen comments that she knew they were the ones stirring up trouble. Then Komachi climbs out and Karen is confused as the four girls laugh awkwardly.

The Analysis

I know I keep coming back to this but I really enjoy how the various girls are active in investigating the mysterious occurrences resulting from the clash between the Precures and Nightmare. Even if nobody else has seen the actual fights, and the battlefields magically restore themselves, the noise and commotion of the fights attracts attention, and that’s how Komachi and Karen get roped into this mess. I also like how Nozomi is like “You know what? These two might be the ones” and just spills their secret. She recognizes that they have the qualities Coco is looking for: tranquility and knowledge, and Urara and Rin actually agree with her, though Rin is also self-aware enough to realize how absurd this all sounds to an outsider, and tells the seniors “I can see why you wouldn’t believe all of this, but it’s true.” It’s funny to me how Nozomi took a meeting where the two older girls were questioning their connection to the mysterious phenomena and turned it around on them into trying to make friends with them and have them join the Precures. She flipped the school hierarchy and power dynamic on its head, because she’s the pink. Also she’s that perfect combination of confident and airheaded that she can just go for it. I don’t mean this to sound bad, I honestly love Nozomi’s brand of earnestness and her sincere interest in helping other people achieve their dreams. Without getting too ahead of myself, she’s a lot more balanced than some other pink cures down the road.

Speaking of dreams, this is where we really get a look at what Komachi likes to do in her spare time. We might have seen her writing in the first episode but this is the first one to focus on it, and show how she’s a little embarrassed to show people her work because she’s had too many bad experiences with people mocking her. Nozomi’s earnest support of her dream to become a writer is encouraging, and we’ll definitely see her grow and develop her writing skills throughout the show. It’s one of the more memorable character arcs in the show.

An interesting facet of Cure Mint is that she is primarily defense-based rather than being offensive like the other cures so far. Her special attack is a shield, and we’ll see several cures in the franchise who mirror this ability, but while it can be a useful skill and is demonstrably strong in the right circumstances, it feels a little too drawn out most of the time. I guess I’m okay with the whole stock footage chant to perform an attack, but doing the same to summon a shield when the danger is IMMINENT seems wasteful when we know they can jump out of the way. If she had a quick shield she could pull out with less fanfare and used the special attack shield to defend from wide-range attacks or to buy time while her teammates set up their attacks, I’d like it more. Mint Protection does get some time to shine down the road, but far too often it feels superfluous. Maybe that’s heathenous for me to say in a show about teamwork and everybody having a role to play.

I’ll use this opportunity to briefly discuss the Kowaina since i haven’t properly done so before. Unlike Zakenna and Uzainaa before them, Kowaina are a bit more supernatural. The enemy of the week pulls out a full-face mask with a pointy nose and a creepy blank smile, then they throw it on an object, bringing it to life in a mutated form with the mask serving as the face. Also, they speak with a female voice rather than the brutish male voice of the previous shows’ monsters, and they always sound more creepy and spooky. It really adds to the mood and sets this series apart from its predecessors. The next episode will show us that the masks work on sentient creatures, not just inanimate objects, and that will bring some interesting implications.

On the topic of the villains, Arachnea is probably my favorite general from this series. She has the best design as a monster, she’s very serious and largely effective. Sure, she has to lose because plot, but her abilities give the team a run for their money. I’m not sure what she thought she’d gain by luring the girls into the sewer that she couldn’t do above ground, perhaps she thought she could limit their movement? It’s not that well-explained. However, that hiccup aside, I really enjoy her as a villain. Girinma is a close second but he often winds up as the butt monkey of Bunbee’s schemes, which is unfortunate.

Now, this episode has several instances of animation that is best described as..... questionable. Actually, it’s not just this episode, it’s been prevalent all along, but I haven’t had time to bring it up before, and it’s prevalent enough here that I needed to discuss it. The models used for the characters for mid-range and far range shots are not awful, but their features and proportions are a bit distorted. Their faces in particular have eyes that are the wrong shape, which really stands out, and these shots are long enough that even if you’re not the most observant, you’ll realize they look off.

For further out shots, we get the added bonus of noodle limbs.

It’s not a great look, but at this point, we’re used to so-so animation in Precure.

I’ll try to talk about the music in the next one, because the audio design of YPC5 is fun and well enough removed from its predecessors. Look forward to that and more. Next time, on Precure Daily, a false start!

Pink Precure Catchphrase Count: 2 Kettei!

[rosewould]

good for you || Vernon

𝕤𝕞𝕦𝕥,

t o  s k i p  s t r 8  t o  t h e  s m u t  l o c a t e  t h i s  d i v i d e r:

★ 𝔹𝕖 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕪 ★:

dom!Reader

female reader again (sorry)

sub!Hansol being too much to handle

slight BDSM

mistress kink

kinda corny tbfh

((disclaimer: I took this from my Wattpad book which was from my previous Tumblr lol, although the story is cringy af this is one of my best smuts TO DATE))

"Hansol texted me yesterday, he's definitely into me." Kwon Eunbi twirled a strand of her hair and spoke obnoxiously loud. She had to ensure that you heard her. You could feel her and her two minion's eyes boring into you.

You were in college, but you felt as if you were stuck in some old school high school movie. A clique of three girls with the same name with crippling envy for you, the main protagonist.

The only thing left to do was to ignore them. You had already tried reasoning with them. Telling them and sometimes yourself that you did not like Hansol. Hell, you guys weren't even friends.

"Psst."

Your ears perked up at the sound. You quirk a brow. Was that aimed towards you?

"What was that?" Hwang, Jung, and Kwon Eunbi straightened up in their seats, searching for the source. You heard Kwon gasp and you instantly knew. You tried to ignore the fluttering feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your hopes were up, but you didn't want to acknowledge it.

You have no time for boys

You have no time for boys

You have no time for boys

Maybe you just had to repeat it for it to stick. You were about to graduate and you have exams coming up.

"Hey Vernon. Still coming over tonight?" Her voice was annoyingly high pitched. You tried to stop that burning sensation. Envy, ironically. You clenched your fists.

You. Have. No. Time. For-

"Hey! I'm talking to you ___."

That stupid voice. You sighed, the Eunbi's scoffed, Vernon chuckled.

"She's fucking annoying." Hwang spoke,

"Look, she's acting stuck up." then Jung.

Finally, you were getting worried that Kwon forebode them from talking. You never knew with Kwon Eunbi, she likes control.

"Not now, I'm studying." You were hoping a librarian or someone would come and tell all of them to shut up, but of course not. You had to go to the one college with a library that wasn't quiet. He walked towards you and came to kneel beside you.

"Just for a second, please?"

You cleared your throat, regaining your composure. You could feel his breath on your arm. You ignored the goosebumps that showed up. You smoothed your hand over your arm before finally looking at him.

"Can you just... C-come to my house later okay?" You nod as if you were trying to persuade him to agree. He didn't respond, instead continuing to pout and whine. You grab his face and force him to look you in the eye.

"You can wait until later." You're stern as you nod once more. You wait for him to nod before you remove your hands. Sucking in a deep breath, you hold it for a while as you returned to your textbook.

"What a show off." The Eunbi's brush you off and finally start minding their business.

Release.

Your limbs loosen up again. That was close.

The teachers always said to never stop studying until the day of the test, but this was overkill. You needed to find something to do before he showed up a your apartment. The words blurred together when you did anything reading related. Nothing seemed interesting on social media, and there were too many ads on cable TV.

It was obvious, nothing was going to keep your attention with him on your mind. You found yourself on the couch, refreshing your social media multiple times. You were just about to doze off when a knock sounded. You jolted up, heading straight for the door.

That would be embarrassing if you open it right then and there.

You took a breath, retracting your hand from the door knob.

You have no time for boys. Release some stress and kick him out. You have no feelings for him.

In one swift movement, you twist the door knob and swing open the door.

Fuck, you had feelings for him.

His hair wasn't parted like it usually was, it covering his eyebrows. His eyes were wide and softer than usual. He had on a loose fitting t-shirt that had a worn collar. Worn enough to show off his collar bones. You swallowed thickly, unable to look away.

"I know I look bad, but I'll be taking my clothes off anyways-" You gasp before pulling him in by his shirt and shutting the door.

"Stop shitting around Vernon."

"You almost went into dom-space today, didn't you?" Vernon inched closer to you slowly. You stay put, wanting to stand your ground. He was absolutely right.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Standing your ground was a bit hard when you were so obviously avoiding eye contact. He sighs as he reaches for your hand and brings it up to his right cheek.

Your mind goes slightly fuzzy as your cold hand melted against his warm face. He leaned into your touch and you felt your cheeks heat up.

"You're annoyingly clingy."

Vernon can feel your aura becoming more cold and rigid. He grinned as he took a step forward. He rests his forehead on yours, impish smile still on his face.

"Am I being a bad boy?"

A sharp inhale was drawn from you. He was such a tease. This is partly your fault. You shouldn't entertain him, it'll fuel the fire. You don't answer, instead you close your eyes.

"Punish me, please."

Your lips parted as you gasped silently. He hit a nerve and he knew it.

"I've been so needy all day mistress." His head moved to the crook of your neck. His soft kisses and breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine.

"Mistress please say something, I'm dying here-"

"Upstairs."

"What?"

You brush past him and strode up the stairs. Hansol hesitated for a moment. He bit his lip, watching you as you disappeared onto the second floor. His heartbeat picked up in speed, it was finally happening. Hansol felt like he was going to explode from pent up frustration.

Watching how you slowly get irritated as the Eunbi's picked on you, how you almost constantly look completely focused and determined no matter what you're doing. It made him desperately want to make you squirm.

At least, before he found out your kink. Hansol had no sexual feelings towards you before he found out. One day he annoyed you one too many times and you pinned him against the wall of the library. No one saw the fire inside your eyes in the remote corners of that library. Everyone only knew you as the reticent girl who distanced herself from anything that didn't have to do with her studies.

Not the girl got off on watching someone squirm under her damning dominance.

Hansol slowly pushed open the door to your bedroom. Your usually toys were scattered all over the bed. He placed his hand on the cock ring. That was new. Hansol could feel heat in his pelvic area. He clenched his thighs instinctively. It occurred to him only then that he didn't see you in the room.

Just as he was about to turn around, he heard the door shut. He grinned. Hansol's skin erupted in goosebumps when he felt your hands travel down his bare arms. You reach in front of him, gripping the hem of his t-shirt. You were about to peel it from his body, but you paused.

Hansol knew your were in dom-space when you were silent. He was always dying to know what was on your mind.

It made Hansol focus more on how you were making him feel. Like when you let go of his shirt and moved past it. You slid your cold fingers underneath his jeans. Hansol shuddered as your fingertips made contact with his lower abdomen only briefly before they moved under his pants.

You sighed, the first sound you'd made since you both got up here, when your fingers came in contact with his member. Hansol huffed and clenched his thighs. You pinch his thigh and Vernon gasped in surprise. He knew what it meant and he immediately reopened his legs.

You close your hand over his hard cock, relishing as he whimpered. Hansol opened his mouth to beg but you pinched him again. This was the hardest part, but Hansol knew he'd be rewarded for being good.

A few languid strokes through his boxers nearly made him forget about being rewarded. You look over his shoulder to watch your movements and how it made him squirm. Hansol knew he was doomed when you reached down further to cup his balls. His toes curled into the carpet and he took his lip in between his teeth. If he writhed or made anymore sound than what he was already doing, he could forget about cumming.

Deep breaths.

It was hard for you to hold in your smile. This is exactly what you wanted. You reveled in his sexual frustration. Words couldn't describe how tempting it was to give up and let him take you then and there.

However, that wouldn't be nearly as gratifying.

Hansol was holding up aggravatingly well. It was time to up the ante.

"Get on the bed."

Hansol shuddered and nodded. You step away from him and watch as he crawls up on the bed. He cleared a path through the toys and lied on his back in the middle.

The way he raised his arms over his head brought a small smile to your face. It was a good decision to leave his shirt on. This whole scene was beautifully submissive.

Kneeling on the bed, you grab the rope and secure Hansol's arms to the headboard. Your hands trail down his arms, to his torso, and landed at the hem of his pants again. This time you got rid of them. The speed at which you did so got Hansol excited. He was definitely about to be rewarded.

Hansol's thighs tense up as your rake your nails down them. His cock twitched whenever you got close enough. You enjoyed that reaction, triggering it many times until he began whimpering in protest.

"Are you ready to be rewarded?"

Hansol nodded eagerly. You sighed as if you weren't estatic to share this news you were about to share with him.

"That's too bad. I hope you're prepared for a new punishment."

"What? Why?"

Hansol knew when he heard you chuckle that he shouldn't have said anything.

"You and your big mouth." You tsk as you reach for the lube and squeeze some out on your hand. Hansol hissed when the gel made contact with his shaft.

It was the way you barely communicated with him and barely made contact that drove him crazy. He had to admit that it was an efficient punishment. Was it naughty for him to grind against your hand? He didn't know, but he didn't care. He tugged against his restraints, bottom lip raw from him nipping at it so much.

You noticed his breathing picking up and his eyes shutting suddenly, so you stopped. You quirked your eyebrow at him when you heard him groan.

"Are you agitated?" Hansol ignored you. Bad choice.

"Good thing you're being naughty. I've wanted to try these out for so long." You grab more rope and the cock ring. You smirk slyly to yourself. You pull both his legs straight and bound them to the bottom bed posts.

"You look so nice spread wide open to me." Your tongue swipes over your bottom lip as you examine him. His hair stuck to his forehead and his bottom lip swollen. Not to mention how fucking cute he was in that t-shirt.

With more lube on your hand, you moisten the cock ring and slide it over his shaft. His shaft began to throb when you secured the ring. The pent up frustration was driving him up the wall with no way to release it.

"Fuck you're driving me crazy."

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

He was frustrated, you could see and feel it. You smiled to yourself. Now he felt the way he made you feel all the time. Time to enjoy every second of his torture.

"I bet you want to be stimulated now, huh?" You look up at him with faux pity in your eyes. Hansol doesn't answer, only looks at you begrudgingly. You peel his cock from his stomach and start twisting both your hands around it. His aura shifts, something tells you he's ready to be good for you again.

Short puffs of breath hit his balls as your face hovered over them. He flinched each time it happened. It felt like it was a bit early for you to be getting so aroused, but you couldn't help it. The way he clenched his eyes shut and moaned uncontrollably. He sounded so sinful yet sweet. You had to stop yourself giving in once again.

The higher pitched moans omitting from him meant he was close.

"Please- I don't want to cum like this. Please mistress, I wanna be inside of you." Hansol's voice cracked as he begged. He was hiding his face but you could still see how pink his cheeks were and how his face contorted.

Tsk tsk tsk. He knew he wasn't supposed to beg or speak for that matter until you asked. You slowed down your movements considerably and loosened your grip a bit. He whined, back arching off the bed.

"Jesus fuck-" He nearly sobbed at the loss of sweet friction.

"Be a good boy."

"Fuck that-"

It was an understatement to say he was caught by surprise when you suddenly stuffed his cock down your throat. He gruntly loudly, bucking into your mouth the best that he could. This isn't what he meant by being inside of you, but it was good for now.

The skin was raw on his wrists but that didn't stop him from pulling against them again. He clenched his fists tightly causing numerous thick veins to pop out on his forearm. You lingered there, enjoying the sounds spilling from his lips. The lack of eye contact on your end frustrated him beyond belief, but he knew better than to voice it. He bit his tongue and focused on how warm and wet the inside of your mouth felt. His cock throbbed, threatening to spill into your mouth.

You finally remove his cock from your mouth. You make direct eye contact as you wipe the saliva from your mouth. He swallows hard.

"You like that? You can speak now."

"Yes."

You smirk. "Beg for it if you want it again." Hansol jumped at the opportunity.

"Please? I want to feel your mouth again so bad."

"That's not good enough."

"Please, please mistress! I want you to do it again, please!"

"Do what again?"

"Put my cock in your mouth please? Please suck my cock." You nearly moaned hearing him whine for you like that. He was close to his breaking point.

That was only one thing he wanted, but he didn't want to push it. You knew what the other thing was, though. You pick up his cock again, swirling your tongue around the tip. His moans sounded like they came from the depths of his body. You were barely touching him.

You started to suck on his tip. Only then did you look up at him. He whimpered, bucking again. You hold his hips down and sink your head 'til your nose hit his stomach. All while still staring into his eyes. His eyes rolled to the back of his head. His mouth gaping open with no sound coming out.

He felt a pulsing heat in his pelvic area as you bobbed your head. He was close. The pleasure was immeasurable but he wanted your cunt desperately. He clenched his fists again, trying to fight away his urge to cum. Taking deep breaths, biting his lip harshly and clenching his eyes shut were the measures he took. Sadly, to no avail.

"F-fuck I'm-" he doesn't even finish before you're pulling away completely. His cock bobbed as cum erupted from the tip. He whines and whimpers loudly as he finishes his ruined orgasm. His cock throbbed a few more times before it fell limp.

He threw his head back, letting it thud against the headboard.

"Fucking hell." He groaned

You shake your head at him as you untied him.

"That was fucked."

"You did it to yourself." You throw him a towel.

"Clean up and get out. I have shit to do."

"What, like study for the 80th time for one test?" He laughs teasingly.

"Shut the hell up." Your voice is threatening, but he doesn't flinch.

"Looks like you're still in dom-space. Hopefully it goes away before class tomorrow." He raised his eyebrows at the thought of your secret getting out.

"You know what? Hopefully it doesn't, so I can make you cum in your pants between classes and have to explain to the Eunbi's that you cum prematurely.~"

"Hey-" You wink at him and run out the room and slam the door before he could say anything.

[stardusttrashed]

Secrets in Hell Chapter 4

Chapter 3

A/N: flashbacks are in italics 

Warnings: Angst, Swearing 

Word Count: 3k

*six months ago*

“You can’t, not yet,” Steve tried to tell her as gently as possible. “Your powers- listen, kiddo,” he stumbled over his words, her heart-wrenching frown making it nearly impossible to tell her simply. She was out of control. Well, her powers were anyways. 

One would think with all sorts of genetic mutations, aliens, etcetera, etcetera occurring that dealing with someone who discovered they have quintessential force would be a slice of cake. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t when she first discovered her powers and it wasn’t now. There was still so much to grasp. So much to prevent from exploding despite the pressure of being bottled up. 

As much as those powers scared her, they scared the rest of the team as well. Especially considering by the time the Avengers had found her she had managed to knock an entire army unconscious without even knowing what she was doing. 

“Two years, six months, two days, and sixteen hours.” Unfazed by her own words, Y/n stared up at a confused and off-guard Steve, her trembling lips kept in a straight line. “That’s how long I’ve been here Cap. That’s how long I’ve been scared of myself- and I know you’re all just as scared. We’ve spent days in and days out trying to get even a little closer to helping me control this, but we’re still on square one.” Her wall was finally crumbling to pieces no matter how quickly she tried to rebuild it. “The only person who isn’t scared of me is Peter- and that’s because he wasn’t even there that day!” She couldn’t help the rising tone in her voice. Everything was bubbling over like an unkept pot of boiling water. “I- I just want to help. Please.” 

She took a deep breath, feeling the unwanted surge of power rising with her unsteady emotions. Steve watched as her eyes fluttered closed, staying like that for a minute before revealing the warm eyes he’d become familiar with. 

“Hey,” Steve cooed. “We’re not scared of you.” His words earned a quiet scoff from Y/n. “We’re not. For you, yes. But we were never scared of you. You’ve walked around the compound singing ABBA in bunny slippers plenty of times, I don’t think you have many scary points left.” He paused as he took in the annoyed yet thankful smile breaking out on her face. “You’re one of us. Powers or not you help us more than you know.”

Y/n opened her eyes as the blindfold was removed- dim lights illuminating the barren and worn down room in splotches. She blinked repeatedly, helping her eyes to adjust after being kept in the dark for a while. One hour ten minutes and twenty-three seconds to be exact. She made sure to keep track of that and every bump or turn in the road. She had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing at the driver going around the same two blocks for more than half of the time to try to confuse her. 

The sound of light concentrated footsteps brought a cocky smirk to her lips. They were much too light for it to Fisk which left plenty of room for Y/n to rile someone up with the worry of being pulverized. “Could really use some redecorating in here. I would’ve thought a guy like Fisk would have more taste, but I guess a rat can only hide so much.” 

Nothing.

“Aw, don’t tell me this is your place. Is it Wesley?” She heard the footsteps stop momentarily before continuing to close in on her. “Oh, that’s even worse! I can’t believe a spiffy guy like yourself- .”

“Do you always talk this much Ms.Y/l/n? It’s quite a wonder that they’ve kept you around so long.” He dropped the file on the table with a loud smack before promptly sitting across from her. “Or perhaps they simply put up with you to unlock what’s beneath.” Y/n unconsciously flinched at his words which only spurred him on. 

*four months ago*

“You couldn’t possibly think that Y/n,” Peter exclaimed. He looked at the girl sitting not even a foot away from him on his bed. “There are so many other amazing things about you that make your powers look like…”

“Exactly Pete,” Y/n sighed exasperatedly, plopping backward onto the pillows. “I mean. What if that’s the only reason I’m still here and not with Shield or someone else? What if-.”

“Y/n Stop.” His eyes traced over his defeated friend’s features, quietly wondering why she couldn’t see her powers were simply an accessory. There were so many reasons why they liked her being around. Why he liked her being around. 

A small blush crept onto his cheeks as he tried to gather his words- hoping more than anything that his crush on her wouldn’t be too noticeable. He looked up at her expectant gaze. The way her lips pursed made the urge to kiss her almost irresistible. 

“You have this warmth that just- it just radiates off of you. I wish you could feel it! I can tell when you’re coming cause it’s like the sun just decided to give out endless hugs. And your smile- gah- I swear it’s just like watching a thousand cute animal videos.” Y/n’s bashful smile froze him for a second while her tender gaze reeled him in further. “And don’t get me started on your singing and music. I don’t know what’d we do if it were quiet for more than a few hours.” He cleared his throat and smiled apologetically, realizing he was beginning to rant about everything they liked about her. Well, more correctly, everything he liked about her. “Listen, the point is we like you around for who you are, shower singing and all. Besides, the worst-case scenario is the others are only keeping you here to keep me busy.”

“You were doing so good up ‘til that last bit Parker,” Y/n teased with an uncontrollable giggle. 

“Wesley,” Y/n sighed, followed by several tsking sounds. She leaned forward as much as her restraints would possibly allow. “It really isn’t polite to self project on the people you kidnap.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, enjoying the stony way his lips pressed into a line, “it shows your weak spots.”

Peter couldn’t seem to fling himself through the air fast enough. Every twist, summersault, roll, dive, all seemed slow. Like snail moving through honey kind of slow. His heart and his mind were on a completely different path, however. It was as if Peter handed a hummingbird the wheel to his heart and mind and said ‘take over’. This couldn’t be the last time he’d see her- could it? What if he was too late? 

His thoughts came to an abrupt halt at the familiar blanket of warmth that suddenly engulfed him. The soft cradle-like wrapping a blanket fresh out the dryer around oneself. His heart skipped a beat- it was her undoubtedly. She was still alive and he’d be damned if he’d let anything happen to her. 

“Miss Y/l/n, I sure hope you haven’t been giving my colleague such a terribly hard time,” Fisk’s voice broke in. His footsteps echoed his confidence with each step closer to into the light. 

“Colleague,” Y/n said, stretching out the word as if it were her first time ever hearing or saying it. “Y’know, I always thought the word was pronounced henchman. But hey, what do I know.” She nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders despite the increasing nerves within her. “Also, I‘m sorry, my friend- Spider-man- yeah, I don’t think he’s gonna make it. He’s pretty terrible with times.” She tried to keep up her confident facade, pushing down and wavering she could feel in her voice. “Guess you’ll just have to do with me.”

Despite her attempts to discreetly push his buttons, Fisk let out a bellowing laugh that made her body tense momentarily. “While your act is quite amusing and almost admirable, I find it, Miss Y/l/n, that the ones who talk the most tend to be the most scared.” 

Relax Y/n. Think. Come on, come on, come on. She stared at Fisk coolly, looking more through him than at him. He was waiting, testing to see if she’d continue to fill the silence with jabs. “That’s a pretty grim fortune cookie,” she played into his hand as she focused her energy on the ropes strapping her to the chair and pole. 

“Sorry my invitation must’ve gotten lost in the mail,” Peter said with faux sincerity as he hung upside down from the ceiling. “Hope you don’t mind me dropping in.”

She could hear the cheeky smile in his voice which made her heart flutter. “The service here sucks, I’d get out of here if I were you, bug boy.” 

“Spider-Man, it’s great you’ve finally decided to grace us with your presence,” his words dripped with venom and sarcasm. He completely brushed over Y/n, ignoring her as if she were a bug. No. As if she weren’t even there. His entire focus was on Spider-Man dangling from the ceiling. 

And the worse part was Y/n couldn’t even attempt to escape from her restraints since snooty henchman was still sneering at her. So she sat there helplessly calculating. The sound of stampeding feet only increased the anxiety coursing through her. She couldn’t sit and be helpless. Not now. She was far too powerful, too skilled to let this damsel in distress act go on long. If they wanted Spider-man they were going to have to get through her first. 

That was when she felt it, the small tugging on the rope wrapped around her ankle. Y/n’s eyes followed Fisk’s, landing on the boy still throwing around puns and quips like Oprah gave gifts. She flashed him a thankful smile, silently letting him know she was aware of the spider bot he’d sent to her rescue. 

Just as Y/n felt the last strand of rope slacken around her and grew ready to spring into action, Wesley wheeled Fisk away behind the forming wall of fighters- roughly seventy men if we’re trying to be exact. She watched as the pair managed to avoid every web Peter shot at them in an attempt to at least slow them down.

He landed beside her with a quiet thud, “so princess, what’s the plan?” His words came out rushed as the swarm of fighters began to charge at them from all directions.

Y/n quickly tied her dress into a makeshift romper, “I’ll go after Fisk and weasel. Meet me when you’re done.” She dodged the first attack with grace, retaliating with an elbow to their ribs and a quick punch to the temple. “I made this mess,” she breathed in between her evasive maneuvers. “I’ll clean it up.” 

Peter webbed a group of attackers to the wall and scoffed at her answer. “I meant more for these guys.” He swooped Y/n into his arms as he shot another web to the ceiling- the action giving them a slight height advantage over the swarm. “If you think,” Peter continued as he swung her around, aiding her in sending a roundhouse kick to a group attempting to encircle them. “I’m going to let you out of my sight again you’re wrong. We’re in this together now.”

Y/n rolled her eyes as she flipped to avoid a knife being thrown at her. “Okay wonderboy, let’s kick some ass then.” 

Watching her fight was always a sight. Even when maniacs were charging at Peter with all of their might- every blow filled with the intent to kill. Peter crawled on the ceiling observing the fight unfolding. Within a matter of seconds, Y/n had left a trail of crumpled unconscious bodies in her wake. She flipped fighter twice her size, switching between twisting their arms and locking them between her thighs. Just like Black Widow had shown her. 

“Got some shocking news for ya,” Y/n joked as she slid between an attacker’s leg. Peter took advantage of the clear opportunity and shot them with an electric web. 

“I dunno Y/n, they seem a little too tied up to hear it,” Peter panted as he webbed the last dozen to a wall. He landed beside her, taking in the few scrapes on her arm and the forming bruise on her cheek. “How ya holding up?” His eyes worriedly raked her body for any other injuries only to once he noticed her doing the same to him.

“I got it from here wonderboy, I can’t have you getting hurt.”

“Yeah, cause that line worked so great last time.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “If you get hurt I’m gonna hurt you.” She chuckled as she sent him a wink before sauntering off. She muttered a quiet ‘showoff’ under her breath as Peter crawled on the walls. 

They followed the bright fluorescent lights through the narrow halls. The clicking of Y/n’s heels bounced off the white walls in confident strides. It was eerily quiet. No sound of extra footsteps. Not even the air conditioner hummed.

“Do you hear that?” Peter stopped unable to get Y/n to stop as well. He could feel the hairs on his arm stand on edge, struggling to rise against the tight material of his suit. Something was coming. Something big. 

“I hope you can get your refund for those fighters Willie, it was almost pathetic how easy it was to beat them.”

“Wesley, activate phase two and prepare the chopper.” Fisk rose from his seat coolly, straightening his suit cuffs. He strolled to the spacious area behind him- his dark clothes a stark difference watercolor landscape painted behind him. A wall of glass slowly lowered, encasing him in the relatively small space before Y/n could process the scene unfolding in front of her. 

“I don’t think you’re very good at hide and seek.” An electric buzz coursed through her body. The warmth that radiated off of her body, pulsing from within, was undeniable. And yet, she couldn’t make out why- until Fisk’s face was split in half by a crooked grin. Y/n watched as the pillars shifted, unable to drag her feet towards safety. 

“Look out,” Peter exclaimed as he swung into the room, swooping Y/n out of the line of bullets firing where she previously stood. “I’ve got ya.” He gently kissed her forehead once they landed on a beam. “Hey, and don’t hate me too much.”

“Hate you for-” she was cut off mid-sentence at the feeling of her being yanked away from his arms. Within a split second his webbing encased her. “Don’t do the hero thing! Not now!” 

“That’s kinda my whole thing,” he chuckled, sending her a wink despite her struggling against the web keeping her on the wall. Peter dropped back down cautiously, flipping in the air to avoid being shot.

Y/n watched helplessly as he maneuvered himself out of danger’s way, webbing up the enormous guns before slinging them at the glass protecting Fisk. Had the circumstances been different she might’ve even said watching him at work was breathtaking. Well, it still was. But in an entirely different sense considering the stream of bullets aimed at him. And the whole time all she could do was watch as frustration and her desperation multiplied with every second passing.

“How about we talk this out,” Peter asked as the glass clattered around Fisk’s feet. He ducked at the last second, avoiding the marble desk Fisk flung at him, “or not.”

Fisk charged at him at speeds that seemed unnatural for a man with his build. It was like watching a wrecking ball swinging towards Peter. He moved in a blur of red and blue- avoiding the calculated storm Fisk threw his way. Blow for blow. Every ten attacks Peter managed to land would be returned with a brutal hit that practically sent him flying. 

“Dammit! I swear if he doesn’t kill you, I will,” Y/n yelled out desperately. She couldn’t tell if the tears pricking the back of her eyes were because she was forced to be a witness or if it was due to the floating debris. She writhed against the web gluing her to the wall- as if this time would be different. As if this final wiggle would break the webs that even Fisk struggled against. Her breath hitched in her throat as she looked back at the battle. Fisk’s hand clenched around Peter’s neck before he threw him through the brick wall- throwing her heart along with him. She bit her tongue, the metallic taste of her own blood swirled around her tastebuds as she resisted every urge to call out his name. Not Spider-Man. No. Peter. She wanted to yell his name. Scream it even. She wanted him to hear the worry and frustration boiling within her. She wanted to say it so badly his name became tangible. The taste resting on her tongue, mingling with the metallic blanket. 

“You’re everything that’s wrong with this city,” Fisk boomed as he slammed Peter against a pipe. 

Peter’s pained scream rang through her ears followed by the sound of more crumbling. Her blood boiled, churning her insides, making her skin feel hotter and hotter. She pushed against the webbing once more within a newfound strength- as if her muscles weren’t her own. The web snapped like rubber bands under her force. All at once the webs deteriorated sending her plummeting towards the debris-covered floor. Her hands grappled for any remnants she could reach, desperately hoping to slow her fall.

“Finally I can free this city from your nuisances,” Fisk gloated with a grunt as he slammed his fist down onto Peter’s weakened body. “Once I’m done with you I’ll rid the city of every other so-called hero.” He stopped as if someone had pressed a pause button. His fist was frozen in preparation to pound Peter, hanging in the air over Peter’s body. He slowly twisted his body, searching for the cause of a piece of rubble hitting the back of his head. He turned only to be greeted by Y/n sending him a seething glare. 

“Touch him again and you’re dead,” Y/n threatened him as calmly as if she were greeting a stranger. The ends of her hair peeking from her now disheveled bun teetered between platinum and silver. 

Fisk sneered his teeth in a wicked smile, “glad you could join us.”

“The feelings mutual, and I hate to ruin your fun but the only one allowed to smash that bug is me,” she chuckled cockily at her own double entendre. Y/n sped towards him, avoiding his massive hand swinging towards her with cat-like agility. “Now get off!” Y/n slung a slab of concrete twice her size at Fisk, making him stumble back enough to allow Peter to roll from under him. 

“Should’ve used more webbing,” Peter laughed dryly as he stood beside her. He let out a weak cough as his body tried to slowly heal itself. 

“Oh, we have plenty of time for that later, preferably when you’re not getting your ass handed to you.” 

“How ‘bout you show me hows it’s done then.”

“Gladly.” Y/n broke out into a sprint towards Fisk, nimbly dodging his swings with a quick slide between his legs before kicking him in his back. Without missing a beat Peter sprung into action, sending Fisk tumbling back to Y/n. Their movements looked so effortless as if they’d trained tag team routines for years now, when in fact it was simply them knowing each other like the back of their own hand. 

A cacophony of shouting and footsteps shifted her attention away from Fisk and towards the large entrance to the room. “I count thirty incoming,” Y/n warned Peter as he pressed his back against her’s. 

“Get them,” Fisk barked at the men pooling into the room. 

“Thought I warned you about touching him Willie,” Y/n growled as she pushed Peter out of the way of the incoming fist. A lilac aura radiated off of her, flickering like the flame of her anger. With a strength that stunned Peter and Fisk Y/n grabbed his fist and flipped him one swift movement. Fisk slumped against a wall, holding his head in his hands as he momentarily recovered. 

“Give ‘im hell Pete,” Y/n breathed before springing towards the men, taking them out one by one. She bashed a pairs’ heads together as she evaded the bullets flying everywhere.

“Incoming,” Peter called out as he swung towards the bulldozer of a man stumbling onto his feet. He was caught off guard by Fisk snatching him by the ankle as if he were a stick being thrown. 

“I’ve had it with you!” Peter’s pained cry brought a wicked sneer onto Fisk’s face as he whacked him against the ground. “Once you’re gone, I will protect this city how it should be. I will be a real hero.” 

The last thing Peter could see was Fisk’s hands linked together, plummeting down towards him. Everything moved in slow motion. The hands coming down like a boulder. The way his wicked grin stretched into a proud smile. Even Y/n seemed slower. As if she were moving through jello. And even then the fighters struggled to lay a finger on her. 

If this was it, Peter was glad he got to be by her side until the end. Glad he could let her know he was always there for her. There was so much that he regretted when it came to her, but fighting along her side was never one. Not even now- with his life flashing before his eyes and every bone in his body aching.

[artificialqueens]

Preacher’s Daughter(Rujubee) Chapter Two - OtterInYourWater

A/N: So I’m back already with another part of this story. A few of you seem to enjoy this crazy idea that I had, of which I appreciate all of you.

P.s., feel free to correct me on the use of Scottish-English dialect in this if you know better.

Peace, pride, and happy reading, Loves!

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Raven

Raven’s face was placid and held no expression or emotion as she walked through the crowded halls. She had slung a bag over her shoulder to carry the copious amount of books, all well over five-hundred pages in length .

Idle chatter rang through the halls, girls giggling with each other as they made way to their classes and boys snickering. In that moment, a thought occurred to Raven; she had absolutely no clue as to where she was going.

Jujubee had never shown her the way to Psycho Correction, saying that she hadn’t ever had the class and didn’t have the slightest clue as to where it would be.

She bit the inside of her cheek. ‘Fuck. What do I do now?’ She thought as her blue eyes darted around the hall.

She locked on a pair of piercing, bright green eyes right next to her. His face split in a smile and returned the gaze before speaking.

“You look like a lost puppy. Need help findin’ somethin’?” The voice had a slight dialect that Raven hadn’t heard before, she could only assume that he was probably a foreign student.

“Actually, yeah. Do you know where Psycho Correction is?” He laughed a little, more like an affected breath than anything.

“You too, eh?” She raised a sculpted brow, confused.

“Sure, I’ll help yeh find it,” The brunette started walking, a hand holding his backpack. The other, which she hadn’t noticed previously, was capped in a white cast and hung limply at his side. 'Wonder what he did,’ Raven thought as she followed him, trying to make mental notes of the way they were going.

They walked in silence, apart from the noise of voices.

“So…what’s yer name, blondie?” He broke the silence, looking at her with a slight, friendly smirk.

“Who wants to know?” The teen asked sarcastically.

He chuckled again, smirk morphing into a smile.

“Spunky, eh? Well, in case yeh wan'ta know, name’s Thomas,” He, Thomas, lifted the cast clad hand as a sign of acknowledgement, waiting for a reciprocation.

After a beat of silence, she delicately shook his hand before giving a curt, “Raven.”

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Soon, both Raven and Thomas were in a too-quiet basement with two large double doors that lead into the unknown.

“Good luck,” He whispered, the warmth of his breath caressing her ear.

He flashed a watery smile, nothing like the previous playful smirks she had received earlier. The brunette seemed to be almost scared, and opened the doors with slightly trembling hands.

Raven strolled in, expression vacant and the heels of her shoes clicking on the pure white tiles. The few students that were in the room trailed off with their conversations, turning to look at her with piercing, terrified eyes.

Their paled faces soon returned to normal color, and they resumed their quiet chatter.

She looked around, watching other students. One particular boy caught her eye, and she didn’t have a clue as to why.

He was drawing in a small booklet, head down as strands of onyx-black hair fell in his face. All of his clothes were buttoned, buckled, and tied tightly wherever it could be. His pink tongue was trapped between pursed lips as he dragged the pencil across the page delicately.

Quietly, she walked over to his table in the back of the room. The blonde sat down wordlessly. His head shot up to look at her wildly.

Raven watched out of the corner of her eye as his mouth opened repeatedly, only to close a second later. After a few seconds, she felt a feather-light tap on her shoulder.

She stared into his gleaming, teal-blue eyes. A small smile graced her lips as she saw the nervousness written across his face.

“Wha…why are you sitting next to me?” The, unexpectedly, monotonous voice finally said. Raven remained silent, she folded her hands in her lap and stared blankly out the window.

The look of slight embarrassment took to his pale face in the form of a baby pink blush as he bit his bottom lip.

“Um, ca-can I at least know your n-name?”

She turned her head to look at him, allowing a small smirk to play on her lips. Something about this boy made her want to be friendly and normal.

“I’m Raven, nice to meet you,” She threw in a wink for the extra measure. The blonde raised an eyebrow as a slight chuckle left his lips.

“What’s so funny Mr…?”

“My name’s Benjamin, but please call me Ben. And I think it’s funny that you’re name is Raven but you’re hair is bleach blonde and stuff,” Ben shrugged at the end of his sentence, returning to his book and completing a small design.

“Guess that it is kinda funny,” She giggled slightly with him.

“So…what the hell even is this class? Everyone’s so hush-hush about it, like it’s the worst thing ever,” Raven whispered to the dark haired boy.

“Wait, you really don’t know?” She shook her head. “You’re in for a wild ride then; this is…conversion therapy…” His voice trailed off, he even squirmed slightly in his seat the moment the words tumbled from his lips.

Her eyes went downcast, terror filling her mind like a balloon. 'Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’ve gotta get outta here as soon as possible,’ Her thoughts raced with worry.

“I’m sorry that you’re in this whole mess, it’s…awful, brutal. At least, maybe we can help each other out a bit. Just ‘til we can finally escape.”

She nodded along, trying to even her ragged breaths. A warm palm rested on her skirt-covered thigh, and she felt a slight squeeze of reassurance. She breathed out, waiting for the class of horrors to begin.

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Blood thrummed in Raven’s ears, all-encompassing, as she walked out of the classroom. Her jaw clenched tightly, so not to shout and cry out to the two monsters that had just dismissed the students to go back to their respective rooms.

Her legs accelerated with every step, trying to leave the blood-stained room with fervor. Thomas and Ben stood on the left side of the blonde, with Thomas speaking animatedly with his hands and Ben focusing intently on a design.

Yawning, Raven absently walked along with them as the three made way to get back to their respective rooms.

“Hey, where’re you going? Girls’ dorms are the other way,” Ben’s monotonous voice broke her of the trance she’d been in. Her eyes looked around, and sure enough she was heading down the wrong corridor.

Thomas hugged her before she left, whispering that 'they’d all escape one day’ and that 'those assholes were going to get it coming’. She chuckled softly at his words before waving to them as she walked in the opposing direction to her room.

Once again, her expression turned stony as she entered the small space. There, sleeping soundly atop crossed arms on a desk, was Jujubee. Raven rolled her eyes, fleetingly thinking of how uncomfortable the brunette must have been. She sighed, tossing her bag towards the end of her bed and walking over to her suitcase.

The blonde grabbed a pair of pajamas blindly before padding over to the closet to change. For a while, Raven stared at her reflection, head turning and body twisting. Her fingers traced the bruises across her body, all varying in shade and color. Audibly, she swallowed, guilt and remembrance consuming her like a wave in the ocean.

The hands continued their path down the length of her form, all of the marks held memories of tears and bad nights and noise. Just so much, too much, noise. She skimmed across the skin with a velvet-soft, barely there, touch for a last time.

She pulled the thick shirt she’d grabbed over her head, effectively hiding some of the marks. For the second night in a row, another pair of sweatpants caped her long legs.

The teen breathed a sigh, exhaustion settling behind her eyes. Her feet padded over to her bed, sitting with her legs crossed as she prepared to complete homework.

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With bleary eyes, Raven’s head picked up and she looked around the room, seeing that the clock on the wall read 10:46 p.m. Yawning, she proceeded to refill her book bag with the school books she used.

As she went to turn the lights off, the blonde stole another glance towards her roommate. Jujubee was still sleeping, bent over the wooden desk in a way that couldn’t be comfortable.

Raven bit the inside of her cheek as she mentally debated waking her up. Her head shook to no one in particular as she pulled the thick covers over herself. Her blue eyes fluttered shut as she stared at the wall, facing away from Jujubee.

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Raven stuttered awake, enraptured by ropes biting into her flesh and allowing the crimson blood to seep and pool around her. She struggled with fervor as her skin was torn apart, ripped at invisible seams.

A scream rippled from deep within her, crying hysterically as the unrelenting friction burned the muscles across the expanse of her body. A voice, hoarse and absolutely fiendish, gave a throaty laugh in her direction. The blonde’s struggles slowed as the thick rope tightened even further, allowing little leeway for movement.

“Oh, my dear, you’re only making this harder,” She let out a pained gasp and cry, instantly knowing the face behind the voice.

“F-Fuck you, Ca-Cade,” Her tone dripped in hatred as she spoke to the man. He walked off, laughing with that gruff voice the whole way.

As the room remained in silence, save for the grunts of agony that escaped her, another figure stepped from the shadows and Raven heard the clinking of metal chains as the person became recognizable.

Her pupils blew wide as she stared at his face, much more angular and harsh than she’d remembered. His hair had been trimmed short but was still the ink-black it had been since she could remember. Tattoos roped around his arms, the one’s that he’d always wanted since childhood.

He all but raced up to her spot on the wall, ripping at the restraints with pure force from newly acquired muscle. Tears ran down his face like rivers; she’d never seen him so utterly hysterical in her entire life.

The blonde fell into his arms even as the blood dripped from different parts of her. They cried simultaneously as they embraced after years of no contact of any kind.

“Raven…”

“David…”

His voice was even different, warmer and deeper, like a dying fire in the dead of winter. The two siblings stood there, blood and tears falling harshly onto the concrete.

When they finally broke, Raven saw the brilliant red that coated the whites of his eyes, the rusted chains that hung from his hands, ankles, and neck. Dark bruises littered his torso and his knuckles were swollen and purple, likely due to a fight.

“I’m sorry,” His, barely audible, voice whispered to her. She let out a watery laugh.

“What for?” The blonde sniffled as the tears continued to flow.

“Everything. All of it. Leaving you with…him, shutting you out, not checking up on you. For not being the older brother that I should have been,” David’s voice cracked as he spoke. His calloused hands clasped her own in a death grip, as if afraid that she’d leave.

“I was a coward, I ran off to the city without a word, without warning. I left you with an abuser. That…was so, so wrong of me to do. I left you when you were at a loss and I could have helped. I understood. And now? You’re in this, this fucking mess…”

Raven’s blue eyes blinked a few times, melancholic over the fact that her brother put the burden of blame on his own shoulders. However, despite the strangled sobs, he continued.

“I can’t go on, can’t be happy with the two of them,” David’s voice cracked and stuttered, unable to even so much as think of the two back at home, “if you’re not with me too. I can’t, won’t leave you again. I can’t leave you to deal with these mother fuckers..“

As the last words tumbled from his mouth, David’s form slowly began to chip away. His face still held the same look, desperate and silently pleading for an answer. She tried to grasp at him, only to fail as she watched her hands phase through his body as though it never existed.

"No…no, not now.”

Raven’s chest felt as thought it’d explode at any given moment; her brother was gone.

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“Raven! Wake up, wake up!”

The blonde shot up from her resting position, hands immediately coming up to check her arms. Absolutely no tears, no blood, no ropes. 'It was…a dream.’

Jujubee stared at her with worry written across her face. Gently, she pulled the other teen into an embrace and whispered into her ear.

Raven wanted to break, wanted to cry. Her head rested on Jujubee’s shoulder, and she was surprised to find her hands moving on their own accord. She gripped tightly onto her hips, short nails digging into the skin there.

The tears finally came, running like rapids down her face. Her entire body shook with wracking sobs, though her mouth let out little noise.

“It’s okay, it was only a dream, Raven,” Jujubee kissed her temple, trying to calm the shaking girl.

'Only a dream…not real…he’s alive…we’re okay…’

[xuxibelle]

Rush

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x Reader

Word count: 2,772

Warnings: Swearing, angst

Summary: What happens when Y/N’s best friend tells her that he’s in love with her? (Seems over done, I know, but this one doesn’t turn out like you might think)

You and Harrison had been friends since you were very young. Your family had moved in beside his just before you turned 4, from then on you were thick as thieves. You loved having him as your best friend. He truly understood the type of person you were. He was always there for you just as you were for him, and somehow he could always make you smile when you were sad which said a lot about him because no one else could do that. It never occurred to you that there could be feelings other than friendship until one day when you were in your early 20’s, Harrison asked you to go to the park that day. You spent the day walking around seeing the sights, going in a few shops nearby, and then having lunch on a blanket in the grass. You were both lying there in the sun, eyes closed, just relaxing until he spoke. He reached over and took your hand in his.

“I’m gonna miss days like this,” Harrison sighed as he turned his head to look at you. You raised your hand to shield your eyes from the sun before you looked at him.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“When I have to start travelling, you know, like for when I have to work, for acting,” he tells you.

“Don’t go getting all famous and forget me now,” you tease him with a smile. Harrison turns on his side and leans up on his elbow to lean over you. Reaching up with his other hand, he brushes a strand of hair away from your forehead and behind your ear.

“How could I forget someone as beautiful as you, Y/N?” he almost whispers. You scoff at him and push his hand away as you laugh.

“Shut up,” you tell him as you turn your head away. “I was joking. You couldn’t forget me, I’d harass you too much.”

“This is true,” he laughs, “But I’m being serious.” He puts a finger under your chin and turns your head back to look in your eyes. “What if I told you I’ve been in love with you since we were kids?” Suddenly you couldn’t breathe. Your best friend of 18 years is sitting here telling you he’s been in love with you for forever and you don’t know what to say. “Please say something,” he begs you after awhile of silence. You take a breath before you speak.

“Please don’t do this,” you nearly whisper as you push him back and sit up, turning away.

“Y/N?” he calls. You shake your head and sniffle. “Look at me… please,” he pleads with you. Slowly you turn back to him and eventually raise your eyes to meet his. You’re shocked when you see nothing but love in the crystal blue eyes you’ve known over the years. How had you not seen it before? Was he that good at hiding it? He raises a hand to wipe the tears that had fallen from your eyes. “I don’t mean to upset you. I just thought it was best to finally tell you,” he explains.

“Why…? If you’ve loved me that long… why wait this long to tell me? Why not sooner?” you ask.

“I… I’m not sure how to answer that,” he shrugs his shoulder. “Part of it was because I was scared and another part was because I didn’t want to lose you as my friend.” You nod your head when he’s finished. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry I waited so long,” he tells you quietly. You both sit in the silence for a couple minutes before he speaks again. “Are you okay?”

“Honesty… I don’t know,” you say quietly. “I just… need some... space.” You hated saying the last word to him, it was Harrison, you’ve never needed space or time away from him, but this was throwing you fo a loop. You couldn’t think straight at the moment and you needed to be alone to make your head stop spinning. You felt your heart clench when you saw his face fall at your words. “I’m sorry, Haz. I’m not trying to hurt you. This is just a lot for me and I can’t get my head clear and I kind of feel dizzy and I need everything to stop,” you explain.

“No, I understand, Y/N/N, I do, really,” he tells you as he stands up and holds his hands out for you to take. “Come on. I’ll help you up and then I can take you home so you can rest, yea?” You felt terrible for making him feel bad but you didn’t know what to say. You weren’t sure of your feelings because your head wouldn’t stop spinning. Once he got you home, he made sure you got to your door alright before he left you. You unlocked the door and opened it before he spoke again. “Alright, just wanted to make sure you got inside okay before I left. I’ll talk to you later, yea,” he smiled at you before he turned to walk away.

“Haz?” you called before he got far. He turned around to look at you.

“Yea?” he asked. You held out your arms asking him for a hug. You weren’t sure if this would be the last one you’d get or if you’d still be able to be around him so you wanted to make sure you at least got one more. He walked back over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you felt your eyes fill with tears again.

“I’m sorry I… I’m sorry I said I need space. I just can’t think with my head all spinny,” you whisper. He squeezes you a little tighter before pulling back.

“It’s alright,” he says with a small smile. “You take care of you and take all the time you need. I’m just a call away,” he tells you before he kisses your forehead and walks down the hallway to the elevator. Once he turns the corner you walk inside your apartment and lock the door. You make a bee line for your bedroom and change into your favorite comfy clothes before climbing into your bed and curling up in your blankets. Over the next few days you would go about your normal daily routine aside from texting or calling Harrison. You were still trying to work that out in your head. After a week, you decided the best way to deal with it was to get drunk, so you called some of your girlfriends and told them to meet you at the club tonight. You get dolled up and get to the club close to 8:30 and see your friends in line. You wave them over to you and they join you.

“You don’t have to wait in line,” you laugh.

“Of course we do. Everyone does,” Sarah said.

“No,” you shake your head. “They know me here.” You walk up to the bouncer near the rope at the front of the line with a smile. “Hey Dean. Been awhile. How’s Jenn and the new baby?” you ask as he smiles at you.

“Oh they’re great! He’s finally sleeping through the night! I’ll send you some pictures later, you guys can go on in,” the bouncer tells you with a smile. Your friends just stare at you wide eyed as they walk past him and into the club.

“Told you,” you smiled at them. They just shook their heads and followed you inside. The club was packed and in full swing tonight. You spotted your favorite booth open near the back and motioned for the girls to follow you. You made your way across the dance floor and claimed the booth before anyone else could. Placing drink orders was easy since there was a kiosk on you table that let you send in for what you wanted. You weren’t ready to dance yet so you let the other three girls go while you sat at the booth. After your third drink, you were feeling pretty good. Your mind was at ease and you were ready to go dance… until you saw him walk in the club. You whipped your head around to your friends. “Which one of you was it?” you asked a little upset. Sarah and Jade held their hands up, but Tori bit her lip. “Ugh, really?” you groan at her.

“I’m sorry,” she began. “He said he missed talking to you and he sounded sad and I just felt bad,” she whined.

“I could murder you right now,” you tell her. “Don’t follow me, any of you,” you say before you walk away and head to the bar on the opposite side of the club he was on. You asked your friend behind the bar for 3 of the strongest shots he could think of. He turns around and hands you three black colored shots. “What is… nevermind. I don’t even care,” you laugh. You take one and down it, expecting it to taste horrible but you were pleasantly surprised when it actually tasted like candy. “You’re dangerous, Derek,” you laugh at him, “but thank you.” He gives you a smile and a wink before he walks off to take care of some other customers. You wait a few minutes before you down the second one. You feel like maybe the room is starting to spin. You know it’s the alcohol, but this is what you were aiming for. You don’t realize that you’re starting to lean backwards until you feel a hand on your back pushing you forwards. You expect to see Harrison beside you when you turn, but you don’t, you see a stranger. “Thanks,” you say with a small smile before you look out over the crowd. You see your friends are sitting at the booth now and you can see Tom with them, but no Harrison. Great, that means he’s probably looking for you.

“No problem,” the stranger says to you. “You here alone?”

“No, my friends are just over there. I came up to get Derek to make me a special drink,” you tell him. He nods his head. You feel his hand on your back again and you turn to look at him.

“You wanna dance?” he asks you. You shake your head.

“No,” you say plainly.

“Oh… then you wanna get outta here… I can dig that. Let’s go,” he says as he reaches for your hand. You jerk it away before he grabs it.

“Excuse me?” you ask in shock. “What makes you think I want that?”

“You’re drunk in a club… isn’t that usually what drunk girls want?” he says with a roll of his eyes as he grabs your wrist and tugs you towards him and off the stool causing you to tumble forward into someone else’s chest.

“I’m so sorry. This guy is being a jerk and made me fall into you,” you say before you straighten up and realize who you fell into. “Haz…”

“Y/N, you ok?” he asks you as he looks between you and the guy still holding your wrist.

“Come on, let’s go sweetheart,” he says as he tugs on your arm. Harrison grabs the guy’s hand and pries it off your arm before he shoves it back at the guy.

“She’s not yours,” Harrison tells him with a glare as you just stare up at him.

“That’s not what she was saying two minutes ago,” the guy says as he smiles at you and you feel your stomach turn.

“Look buddy, you might want to leave before I break your face,” you hear Harrison growl at the guy. You step in between them with your back pressed to Harrison’s front.

“Leave, now…” you tell the creep. He finally gives up and walks off with a scowl on his face. You feel Harrison’s hands come up to your shoulders before they gently turn you around. “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself,” you tell him before you take your seat back on the barstool and down your last shot, which was probably a mistake. You felt him walk up behind you. Placing a hand on either side of you on the bar, he leaned down where you could hear him over the music.

“Y/N…” He said softly, “Stop pretending you’re okay, cause I know you’re not. I’ve talked to Tori.”

“Yea, I know,” you snap. “I’ve heard.”

“Hey! Don’t you dare get mad at her. She’s worried about you,” he tells you. You feel your eyes well up with tears. “She’s scared you’re gonna do something bad but she doesn’t know what and she didn’t know who else to talk to. She told me you’ve been drinking… a lot.” You sigh before you turn around to face him with tears in your eyes.

“Yea… I have. So what. Alcohol’s the only constant in my life,” you tell him. He glares at you as he processes your words.

“How can you say that?” he asks you. You let the tears fall and when you did, they didn’t stop. “Why are you crying…? Just talk to me…” You shake your head before you speak.

“I can’t… not yet… and if you can’t let me deal with this in my way,” you say before you take a deep breath and continue, “then maybe you shouldn’t come back…” You stand up as you feel more tears spill from your eyes and rush to the front door of the club and out on the sidewalk, the night air hitting your face as you rush past the people still waiting in line.

“Y/N, you okay?” you hear the bouncer call after you.

“I’m fine,” you call back and wave your hand in the air as you continue to run and you turned to cross the street away from the club.

“Sam! Go find Haz! Now!” You barely heard the bouncer yelling as he ran over to you. “Y/N, can you hear me?” You groaned a little as you tried to open your eyes. “Stay with me, Y/N, open your eyes. Help is coming,” you hear him tell you. “Don’t move,” he tells you as you try to sit up, “Stay where you are.”

“Y/N!” you faintly hear Harrison calling your name as he rushes over. “What happened?”

“I don’t know, man, she just ran out of the club and tried to cross the road,” the bouncer told him. You feel your heart start to beat faster and it scares you, making tears fall from your eyes again.

“Haz,” you whisper, barely able to even get that out. He takes your hand in his as he leans down to hear you.

“I’m here, Y/N,” he tells you.

“It hurts,” you cry.

“I know, love. I’m so sorry… They’re coming, okay? Help is coming,” he says softly as he brushes his hand over your hair.

“I’m sorry…” you start to tell him.

“No, no… Sssshhhh,” he tells you. “Save your energy, love. Just stay with me, though, okay?” You nod your head as you meet his eyes. After what felt like hours to you but was probably less than two minutes, the ambulance arrived and had you up on the bed quick.

“Are you family? Are you coming with her?” the EMT asked Harrison as they loaded you into the ambulance.

“I-I’m…” he started.

“Quick, we have to go,” they told him.

“I’m her boyfriend,” he told them.

“If you’re going, let’s go,” they said as they climbed inside. Harrison sat on the side and watched them as they tried to treat you.

“This doesn’t look good,” he heard one of them say.

“We need to get her to the OR fast,” the other one told the driver before he picked up the radio and called the hospital to let them know to have it prepped.

“I-is she… gonna be okay?” he asked.

“We’re gonna do the best we can,” they tell him. “She needs an operating room. From what we can see here, she’s bleeding internally and we can’t fix that here, too many risks. If we can get her to the hospital fast enough, she should be able to pull through,” one of them explains. Harrison reaches over and takes your hand in his, leaning over where you can hear him. He’s not sure if you’re still conscious, but he doesn’t want to lose you.

“Y/N/N… don’t die on me… please,” you hear him softly say as he squeezes your hand.

@nerdraging4point0  @sleepwalkingdragon @summernykole @sunshine112

[rockindragonz]

Home Is Where the Taaco’s Are

Angus McDonald would never allow himself to be a burden on anyone, so he tries to make it on his own following the Day of Story and Song. He ends up in an orphanage with too many kids, too few caretakers, and too little money. When Taako and Kravitz find out, they will not let that stand any longer.

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 4333

Chapters: 1/1

Read on Ao3

No one really talks about what they saw, or rather didn’t see, that day.  It's never mentioned when the Day of Story and Song comes around.  For many, it is a day of celebration, but, for many more, it is a day of mourning and loss.  So many died to the monsters before anyone could see them.  So many husbands and wives, mothers and fathers, children and grandparents.  Everyone knew someone who had died without being able to see their attacker, all they felt was blood spilling from them by the gallon.  What they do talk about is the story of the seven birds and how courageous and wonderful these people were.  They talk of the Bureau of Balance and some speak of Carey, Killian, and Angus who had the privilege of fighting beside the old adventurers.

Its weird for a while for Angus.  Going to school and trying to have a normal life all while being so related to the seven people who saved countless realities.  When he’s first recognized on the street as Angus McDonald, member of the Bureau of Balance, he is in shock.  People crowd him and ask him so many of questions about the IPRE crew that he loses track of them.

For the crew, the year immediately following the Day of Story and Song was the hardest.  Taako and Kravitz had rushed headfirst into their relationship and had spent as much time together as possible.  Magnus began to rebuild Raven’s Roost after the destruction it had faced.  Lup and Barry joined up with the Raven Queen, so they weren’t around much.  Lucretia spent all of her time trying to fix all the mistakes she had made and created the Bureau of Benevolence to aid in repairation efforts.  Merle moved to the beach and became the leader of a city he now ran.  And Davenport all but disappeared off the map.

As for Angus, he no longer had a home.  He was alone once again, without a mother or father to speak of, and his grandfather’s grave had been destroyed in the attacks.  He applied to Lucas’s school and got in with no problems.  But now he was living in an orphanage where there were too many kids, not enough caretakers, and not nearly enough money.  Many children had been orphaned on that fateful day.  Despite everything, Angus found himself happier than he had ever been.  He was learning new and challenging things and he was visiting constantly with Taako and Kravitz who lived so close to his school.  He was finally living the life a child deserves to live.  No one knew where Angus was calling home, no one even really knew that Angus had no family in Faerun that he could have lived with.  Whenever the subject was brought up, he changed it quickly with a dismissive answer and tried to focus on something not related to his living conditions at all.

That’s how it went for the first year.  Everything was calm and quiet and everyone had a new appreciation for life and love.

It's been almost three years since the day or Story and Song now and Angus is still in the orphanage.  Prospective parents have been few and far between for the orphanage this year and donations haven’t been large enough to support the displaced children so there wasn’t enough food to go around.  Besides that, Angus had some massive finals coming up that kept him locked in his shared room most days.  Those two things combined over the course of a month meant that Angus was starting to show some bone in his ribcage.  He was constantly hungry now, but he ignored it and continued working towards his goal of becoming as good of a wizard as Taako was.

His final for the year was held on the day before the Day of Story and Song, so the day after was when he finally found himself with enough time to once again visit Taako and Kravitz.  Normally the gang would gather in one house to celebrate and relate stories, but the party had been put off for a day or so because Davenport had gotten stranded briefly in some remote part of the world and refused out of dignity to let Kravitz help him.  Before knocking on the familiar wooden door, Angus hesitated.  He knew Taako was more on this day and he really didn’t want to bother him, but his decision was made for him when a surprisingly casually dressed reaper opened the door.

Kravitz blinked down at Angus twice before grinning ear to ear.  “Angus!  I was just about to head to the store to get some stuff for dinner, will you be joining us?”

“Oh, no sir, I wouldn’t want to bother you two, I know you’re both very-” he was cut off by a loud growl from his stomach that caught him totally off guard.  The growling had stopped weeks ago but apparently the mention of Taako’s delicious food reactivated it.

“I’ll take that as a yes.  Go ahead and go inside, Taako is just in the kitchen getting some things prepared.”  Kravitz clapped him on the shoulder and stepped away from the wooden door and past Angus.  Hesitantly, Angus stepped into the warm home.

“Sir?  Mr. Kravitz let me in,” Angus said, calling towards where he knew the kitchen was.

“Angus, I’m in the kitchen, do me a favor and come give cha’boy a hand,” Taako responded.  Angus nodded to himself and dropped his book bag on the cozy couch that stood facing a lit fire.  He stared for a moment at the flames that licked up and around the logs burning, and he thought of Lup immediately as he stared.  Honestly, Angus was surprised she and Barry weren’t here; the twins were usually inseparable today.  Shaking his head, Angus walked to the kitchen to lend Taako the hand he had asked for.

“How can I help sir?”

“Just hand me stuff and put things I give you in the sink or something, I don’t really care as long as they get the fuck out of my way,” Taako said, passing him a dirty dish.  Angus nodded and dutifully placed it in the sink and ran the water to clean the bowl out a bit.  “Ango, gimme the salt.”  And so Angus did.  Things continued like this for a while, both of them existing in comfortable silence, despite the teasing that usually occurred at Angus’ expense.  Taako said nothing besides a few short words to indicate what he needed next for the recipe.  At one point, Angus got the feeling that Taako didn’t really need his help, he could tell in the way Taako would go to reach for something and then hesitate and ask Angus to grab it for him.  Honestly, Angus had no idea why the usually flippant man would allow him to help out, but he wasn’t complaining, anything was better than being stuck at that orphanage ny longer than he had to be.

“That’ll do boyo, we can chillax now and watch Fantasy Queer Eye if you want, though Krav might kill me if we watch a new ep without him.” Taako spoke loudly, almost as if he were trying to get someone else in the house to hear him, as he dried his hands off on a dish towel.

“Whatever sounds great to me sir!” Angus said with a smile he hoped was convincing.  The food he could smell that was now baking kept causing his stomach to growl loudly, but if Taako had noticed, he hadn’t said anything about it.  Taako plopped down on the couch in what Angus knew to be his usual place and waved his hand at the small TV above the fireplace.  A rerun episode of Fantasy Queer Eye came on, one where they were trying to help a gay man get a sense of style that he obviously didn’t have.  Occasionally, Taako would scoff at the clothing choices one of them would make for the client and he would mutter things like “Oh so you think you know everything about clothing, don’t you Tan?”  In these instances, Angus would only smile to himself in a fond way one would if one’s father was acting silly.

“So...how’re...things?” Taako said.  He had obviously grown bored with the rerun and was now trying to rope Angus into a long conversation about his life.

“Things are good, I am doing very well in school!”

“Yeah, no surprise there, boy wonder,” Taako said with a snort, “what are they feeding you over there anyways?  You look like skin and bone my dude.  I’m gonna have to take that up with Lucas and make sure that shithead is feeding you guys right.”

“There’s no need for that sir, I’m just...sick is all.”

“No, no, no, I know sick and this is not that,” he said with a scowl, “have you eaten a proper meal in the last few weeks?  I’m talking something other than a shitty ass school sandwich and a granola bar.”

“Oh sir, the shows back on!  I love this part of the episode, it’s so funny.”  Angus turned his face to watch the TV and rested his head in his hands, hoping to mask the bit of bone that had begun to show around his jaw area.  With no warning, the TV was shut off.  Angus turned to look at Taako only to be faced with a serious look that he had rarely, if ever, seen on Taako’s face.

“Angus, what is really going on?  I’m not a moron you know, I know malnutrition when I see it, and boy, am I seein it right now.”  Angus sighed and let his hands fall into his lap.  He was torn between telling Taako the whole truth and lying about his whereabouts and his food intake.  Lying seemed to be the better and less inconvenient option.  “Don’t bullshit me or I will get Merle to pop over here and cast Zone of Truth.”  Again, Angus sighed a deep sigh.  Taako wasn’t going to give up until he was satisfied with the answer, was he?

“Okay, well, I’m living in a home where they don’t have a ton of money right now and we haven’t been able to get much food together.  Most people have spent their money on the rebuilding efforts so donations are low.”

“Wait a second there boyo,” Taako said, his eyebrows raising rapidly, “donations?  What, are you living on the streets now?”

“No, I have a bed sir, I’m not sleeping on the streets anymore.”

“Anymore?”

“Um, well yeah, after the Day of Story and Song three years ago, I had nowhere to go, so I was on the streets for a few weeks, but an orphanage took me in.”

“An orphanage?!  Are you fucking with me?!” Taako yelled, “You’ve been living in an orphanage with barely enough food, if any, for three fucking years and no one even bothered to check on you?”

“I didn’t want to impose on anyone, sir.  I felt wrong aking anyone from the BoB to take me in because I’m not their responsibility,” Angus said, voice soft.

“Well fuck that noise!”  Taako stood violently, knocking into the coffee table as he rose.  Kravitz chose that exact moment to enter the room carrying a small bag of rolls with him.  He looked from Taako to Angus and back with a look of total bewilderment.  Taako’s face was pure rage and Angus was sure his was one of fear and shock.

“What is going on here?” Kravitz said, his voice unnaturally calm given the current situation.

“Angus here hasn’t been telling us the whole fucking truth for three fucking years!” Taako shouted.

“What ‘whole truth’ is he talking about, Angus?”

“Ango here has been living in a fucking orphanage with nothing to eat for three.  Fucking.  Years.”  Taako spat.  “That shit doesn’t fly.  Krav, take us to the orphanage where Angus is staying so I can get those fucking adoption papers now.”  With those words, Taako stormed off to the kitchen.  Angus could hear some banging as he grabbed the dish out of the oven and dropped on one of the counters.  He heard Taako swearing a muttering to himself just loud enough that he could hear the noise, but couldn’t make out any of the words, he just knew that Taako was furious.

“I-I-I didn’t mean to make him angry Mr. Kravitz, I promise I didn’t, I’m just really tired and I’m not thinking straight and I couldn’t come up with a believable lie in time to tell him,” Angus said as he stood, “I just didn’t want to force anyone to take care of me, that’s-”  Before he could finish his sentence, he was wrapped up in a tight hug from Kravitz.  Despite Kravitz being dead and his skin being cold, Angus had never felt warmer in all his life.

“Angus, shhh, it’s okay, he isn’t mad at you,” Kravitz said in a soft tone, “he’s mad that he didn’t notice you were going through exactly what he and Lup had gone through back on their home world.”  Angus was stunned.  This information was new to him.  Of course, he could infer it what with how jumpy Taako seemed to get in a new place and how he always seemed to know the fastest exit out of any room, but he had never had such clear confirmation.  For a long while, they stood there, Angus wrapped up in Kravitz’s arms with his own down at his sides in shock.  It took him a moment to process all that was happening and, when he finally did, he felt tears begin to streak down his face.  He wrapped his arms tightly around Kravitz, who pulled him down onto the couch, never letting go of him for even a moment.  Kravitz combed his fingers through the thick and curly locks as Angus sobbed harder than he had in years.  Taako returned at some point and wrapped his arms around the other side of Angus, but no one could tell you when or exactly how it had happened, it just did.

Once Angus had finally calmed down fully, he pulled away from Kravitz, but was unable to escape Taako’s tight grasp.  It seemed as if Taako was unwilling to let go for fear that he might lose him or something.

“Don’t you ever do something like this again, okay Ango?  We are your dads now, and thats final.”  Taako spoke with such finality that Angus was once again overcome with emotions.  He wrapped his arms tightly around Taako’s neck and buried his face into it and found himself crying once more.  Not out of stress or fear but out of so much happiness that he couldn’t handle it on his own.  Taako was happy to oblige him, wrapping his arms tight around his magic boy.  They sat there for what felt like forever.  Kravitz eventually stood up and went to get something, and Angus faintly registered talking in a room a ways away, but he wasn’t coherent enough to process any of it.  After what felt like hours, Taako and Angus let go of each other and only stared.  Taako’s eyes were red and puffy just as Angus knew his were, but this was more of a comfort than anything to him.

“How’re you doing kiddo?” Kravitz said as he took his place on the couch once more.

“Better.”

“Good.  I just finished speaking with the lady who owns the shelter and she is aware that we are coming to get your things.  She sounded drunk.”

“I did some detective work while I was there and I think she knows that I found out she stole all the money we had for food this month to pay for her alcohol.”

“That would explain it,” Kravitz said with a laugh, “when we get there, grab your things and do not say a word to her.  Taako and I will deal with her and her employer.”

Angus only nodded in acknowledgement and went to stand up, but was stopped by a hand on his knee.

“Angus,” Taako began, “you are never a burden on any of us, remember that.”  His face was stone cold serious.  He hadn’t seen this look since three years ago when he was preparing to kick the shit out of Lucretia for lying to him.

“Okay.”

Once the three were calm and collected, they gathered a few bags and waited for Kravitz to rip a tear for them to travel to the orphanage with.  Upon their arrival, the woman was standing in front of the building with a scowl on her face.  She was yelling at a younger girl who was covered in mud.  Once she had been incredibly sweet and loving to all the children, but that was when people were giving all they could to the ‘poor little children who had lost their parents to the Hunger’.  Now she was bitter and mean and crude to all the kids she came across.  Taako cleared his throat as he stared her down.  She waved her hand dismissively and continued to berate the girl for getting her clothes messy, but Taako was having none of it.  He grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her to face him fully.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” she demanded before she laid eyes on him.  It was almost comical how wide her eyes got when she was Angus standing behind one of the seven birds.  She had known that he was related to them, but they never visited or even contacted him at the orphanage, so she thought they had forgotten about him completely.

“I’m Taako from TV,” he said.  And, with all the rage and anger he had pent up, he punched her square in the nose with all the force he had in his body.  Granted, it wasn’t much, but she fell backwards, out cold all the same.  Kravitz only whistled as she went down and the girl stared at Taako in awe.  Taako turned to the young girl and, with a wave of his hand, her dress was pristine again.  “Don’t hit people, kid.”  He gave her a genuine Taako (™) smile and strode into the orphanage.  Angus was left shocked with Kravitz by his side.  The man laughed quietly and shook his head, but followed after his husband.  Angus followed suit, trying to keep up with him so that none of the other kids would wonder why a Reaper was here with one of the seven birds.

When they stepped inside the house, papers were flying everywhere as Taako searched for the forms he needed to sign.  Kravitz nudged Angus towards the stairs and pointed towards where Taako was obviously beginning his search.

“I’ll help him, you go get your stuff, if you need me, just yell.”  Angus nodded and began the climb to the shared bedroom for all the boys.  He frowned as he got to the top and all the kids in his orphanage were hiding in the room.

“It’s okay,” he began, unsure of how to help the kids, “it’s just me.”

“She said to stay here and out of sight or else, so we did.  What’s all the commotion downstairs?” one girl said.  Her voice was soft, so Angus could barely understand her, but he smiled anyways.

“Taako is downstairs,” he said.  Before he could even finish speaking, the children were scrambling to get down there to meet one of the famous seven birds.  Angus was left alone in the giant room with only his thoughts and his stuff to grab.  He pulled a chest out from under his bed where he kept all of his things and began to unpack it and put it in the bags Kravitz had given him.  He took extra care to cushion his most valuable items: his spell books for school, his journal where he kept all of his detective notes, and a single silver spoon that had belonged to the set his grandfather had entrusted him with that he knew Taako and the other two had stolen on the train.  This spoon meant more to him than almost anything else he owned so he put it in the safest spot he could imagine.

With a smile, he looked around the room one last time, gathered his things, and went downstairs to tell the two he was ready to go.  It was no surprise to him that Taako had been surrounded by the children.  What was a shock was seeing Magnus and Merle there trying to act as decoys.

“Hey guys!  Look it’s me, Magnus Burnsides!” he shouted, striking a pose and flexing.  Immediately, all the children who had been surrounding Taako flocked to talk to Magnus who took it all in stride.  The attention was something that the three of them had gotten very used to in the past few years, so it was nothing for Magnus to be messing with a few of the kids and trying to lift them while Merle tried his damndest to even see over the sea of children.  It seemed that none of the kids noticed Angus follow Taako and Kravitz to a side room where they could hopefully have a moment to process everything.

“Thank you for getting those two for me Krav, I couldn’t handle those brats for a second longer,” Taako said with relief evident in his voice.  Kravitz only nodded with a fond smile to which Taako rolled his eyes.

“So, Angus, shall we?” Kravitz said.  He gestured to the desk where Taako and he had already signed the paperwork.  The ink was fresh with their signatures, but that of the orphanage’s owner’s was not.

“She must have signed all of the forms forever ago,” Taako said with disgust, “she wanted ou all out of her hair so badly, I bet she would have gladly given one of you to anyone with cash.”

“Sirs?” Angus said, voice small, “Are you sure about this?”

“Of course we are, Angus,” Kravitz said with a gentle smile, “we love you, and we want you to be happy.  Do you want this?”

“Absolutely,” Angus said with a gigantic grin on his face.  His eyes had gotten a bit teary and his vision was getting slightly blurred, but he was happy.  Taako handed him the pen to sign that he agreed to be adopted, and Angus drew his signature over the line with the biggest smile he had had in years.

The rest of the day was a whirlwind of things.  Taako and Kravitz took him to the nearest city hall to turn in the paperwork and make it fully official.  The secretary there was shocked by Taako’s sudden appearance with a literal reaper’s scythe that dropped them in the middle of her office.  Once there, the woman only nodded in awe to the questions Taako asked.  When they brought up the lady in charge of the orphanage, the secretary shook from her stupor and began writing things down.  She assured them that the woman would be fired promptly and a new person would be instated as the caretaker.  Taako also insisted on making a hefty donation to the orphanages that fell under the jurisdiction of this city, to which the woman humbly accepted and tucked away.

“If I find out my money has gone to anything except the kids,” Taako spoke, his voice suddenly deep and filled with anger, “all hell will break loose.”  The woman only nodded, pupils blown wide in fear.  Satisfied his money would be used well, Kravitz tore open another portal, this one to their home.

As Angus stepped foot into their living room with all of his things in hand, it finally settled in his mind that this was real.  This wasn’t just a dream, this was actually happening.  He would be with a family, a real family, and he would finally be safe for the first time in three years.

“Your room is upstairs, I’m gonna heat up dinner real fast,” Taako said, all but sprinting away to the kitchen.

As if Kravitz could hear Angus’ concerns, he spoke, “Don’t worry about him, okay Angus?  He loves you, I promise, he’s just really bad at showing vulnerability sometimes.”  Angus nodded with a small smile.  He knew Taako loved him, he knew the trio loved him, because they teased him so often but they were also softer to him than anyone else.  Kravitz patted him on the head and started for the stairs to lead Angus to his new room.  When they entered, it was basically empty save for the massive bed against one of the walls and a dresser with a mirror on top.  Despite the lack of furniture in the room, Angus had never felt so at home.

“Welcome home kiddo,” Kravitz said, “I’ve always wanted to be a dad, you know.  So has Taako.  The last time he got drunk, actually, he talked about adopting you, but you hadn’t shown any interest in being adopted by anyone, so he dropped it quickly.  He’s really fucking happy about this.”

“I know sir, I am too,” Angus said, “thank you, sir, for adopting me.”

“Angus, you don’t have to call us ‘sir’ anymore.  You can call me dad if you want, or if you don’t want, whatever works for me.  I just want you to be happy here.”

“Okay, sir,” Angus paused, “dad.”  Absolute joy took over Kravitz’ face and he had to seemingly restrain himself from wrapping Angus up in a bear hug.

“Get settled in, and then come down for dinner, okay?”

“Alright.”  With that, Kravitz turned and retreated down the hallway and downstairs.  Angus watched him go for a moment, before he stepped into his new room and into his new life.

And he truly couldn’t have been happier if he’d tried.