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spacetimewraithwrites-archive · 4 years ago

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WIP Mega Re-Intro

T ʜ ʀ ɪ ᴠ ɪ ɴ ɢ S ᴇ ʀ ɪ ᴇ s : M31 Aʀᴄ

Genres: sci-fi ; romance ; thriller ; sci-fi horror Installments: five Representation: characters of color ; lbgtq+ ; neurodivergence ; disability ; mental illness Tropes: “enemies” to friends to lovers ; found family ; chosen two ; stable main relationship

***

↳ The dramatic collision of Orthrive’poliea’s vehicle with a nearby lake upends Warren Cougar’s life more than he ever expected. Along with conspiracies, intergalactic war, and waking up two centuries in the future, he has to survive a hostile alien army and a semi-omnipotent sentient darkness doing everything in their power to destroy Earth and the rest of the Milky Way—and Thrive’s native galaxy, Andromeda. Navigating their way through seemingly endless battle after seemingly endless battle, Warren and Thrive also find they must navigate themselves as well as their growing relationship with each other.

➳ T ʜ ʀ ɪ ᴠ ɪ ɴ ɢ

(NaNoWriMo Winner 2016)

The year is 2045. Before even meeting for the first time, Warren decides to risk life and limb to keep Thrive from his former place of employment; a shady organization called ETHOS—headed by the elusive Director Cyprus Lange, along with his lapdog, second-tier agent Hugo Hastings—that will stop at nothing to make sure Thrive is wiped off the face of the Earth. Within avoiding them and the hostile eliyi forces that followed Thrive into the Milky Way, Warren finds himself questioning the confusing feelings that crop up whenever they’re together.

➳ T ʜ ʀ ɪ ᴠ ɪ ɴ ɢ : D ᴇ s ᴛ ɪ ɴ ʏ

(NaNoWriMo Winner 2017)

Faced three years after the events in Alaska with the sure decimation of Earth at the blade-like tentacles of the eliyi—purported to be influenced heavily by the horrific Emmuli—Warren and Thrive are forced to traverse the Milky Way in search of civilizations willing to aid them in their upcoming fights. At the same time, the raw nature of Warren’s relationship with Thrive crumbles and solidifies surrounded by growing tensions in the galaxy, and loss and deception and dark developments threaten to keep them both apart indefinitely.

➳ T ʜ ʀ ɪ ᴠ ɪ ɴ ɢ : R ᴇ ʙ ɪ ʀ ᴛ ʜ

(NaNoWriMo Winner 2018)

Waking up from cryostasis on a strange planet in the year 2272 to a full-on war between what have become the Consortium worlds and an alliance hell-bent on taking control of the Milky Way, Warren falls into his brand-new existence while getting used to being mutually in love with Thrive. The two of them embark on a mission to round up a team of elite individuals with the purpose of taking down the Blue Prince Hyret, the Morrite head of civil unrest, all while the Emmuli start to reach out directly, toying with Thrive and Warren’s sense of security and reality.

➳ T ʜ ʀ ɪ ᴠ ɪ ɴ ɢ : E ᴛ ᴇ ʀ ɴ ᴀ ʟ

(NaNoWriMo Winner 2019)

The humans have been working on Project Ingress for the past several decades, promising new possibilities in a future that can easily travel between two galaxies—but opening the gate in Andromeda only serves to put Thrive in danger of being found by Zliyagi, the eliyi homeworld, as well as giving the Emmuli an easier path to the Milky Way. The too-real hallucination bombs known as constructs, during which reality is warped and vicious, prove to be immense hurdles Warren and Thrive have to clear on their journey to discovering more about Thrive’s origins.

➳ T ʜ ʀ ɪ ᴠ ɪ ɴ ɢ : A ᴜ ʀ ᴏ ʀ ᴀ

(NaNoWriMo Winner 2020)

Though it’s true for most as the final campaign against Emmuli approaches, Thrive’s continued existence is no longer promised. Finding the biggest puzzle piece regarding who he actually is makes it much simpler for the other pieces to fall into place—pieces such as where the silhou really come from, what happened to the fantastical Ammathu, and even Warren’s humanity comes into question. Meanwhile, the clock ticks down until arrival at Torris, the home cluster of Emmuli masquerading as a rogue planet at the edge of Andromeda, and then the fight truly begins....

❝

Thrive was practically boneless, arms draped over the edge of the tub, and his head rested against the back, eyes half shut and amber light twinkling within them like the dying coals of a fire. His wet hair slicked back, knees drawn to compensate for the sheer length of his legs, his entire frame a painful amalgamation of tense and fully relaxed.

"Thrive…?" Warren said in a small voice.

His chest rose with an inhale and his gaze shifted to Warren. The water barely rippled with that movement. They stood in further silence until the base of Thrive's expression shifted, brows drawn tight and eyes becoming despondent.

❞

Wᴀʀʀᴇɴ Lᴇᴠɪ Cᴏᴜɢᴀʀ ;; Iñupiaq/Hopi ;; gemini ;; human ;; Earth ;; a former third-tier ETHOS agent who was instilled with a love of space and a unshakable belief in alien life at a young age by his grandfather. rife with depression and anxiety, a passion for dance, wants to see the entire universe, attempted to take his own life at the age seventeen.

Oʀᴛʜʀɪᴠᴇ'ᴘᴏʟɪᴇᴀ ;; over eight thousand years old ;; obhelian ;; Slodia ;; a Protector who has pledged his life to enact justice no matter the means. can physically mimic other species at will, controls physics, reads emotion through touch, has lived too long and seen too much.

Eɴᴄᴀʟᴀʀ Sᴜssᴀ ;; silhou ;; C’o ;; a student of the Strong with immense will and love for those she cares about. can hear thoughts, swears to find the origins of her people, has high compassion toward others.

Gᴜᴇᴛʀʏ Dᴀɴᴏɴ Sʏᴍᴘᴀ ;; French-American ;; scorpio ;; human ;; Earth ;; a gifted musician and elite member of a special forces task unit working for the Consortium, aided by an AI in his brain that keeps his quality of life ideal after an overdose that left him otherwise brain-dead for five months. wise-cracking smartass unafraid to tear the system apart for what’s right.

Esᴛʜᴇʀ Gʀᴀᴄᴇ Wᴀsʜɪɴɢᴛᴏɴ ;; African-American ;; virgo ;; human ;; Earth ;; an intelligent forensic scientist for ETHOS with Earth’s best interests at her core. emotionally stronger than she needs to be, willing to admit when she’s wrong and rectify her mistakes, a pivotal character for the future of the universe.

Hᴜɢᴏ Pɪʟᴏᴛᴛ Hᴀsᴛɪɴɢs ;; white ;; human ;; Earth ;; the deadly and, all the same, ignorant head second-tier ETHOS agent. tunnel vision with minimal openness to realize his catastrophic errors and denounce his bigotry.

OᴍᴍɪʟʟɪCᴜʟᴏs ;; lenaya ;; Holeph ;; reigning clairvoyant-empath of the largest faction of Holeph as well as the longest living monarch of the planet. has uncontrollable prophetic visions, their identical twin is genetically fraternal, has to be cared for due to the sickly nature of clairvoyant-empaths.

Aᴅʀᴀᴛ Mʏᴅʜᴀssᴀ ;; silhou ;; C’o ;; Sussa’s mentor and friend, next in line to be a member of the Strong.

Aʀᴍᴀᴛᴀx ;; nuaclan Rotanga ;; Rotanga ;; former bodyguard for a district leader on Rotanga. aggressive fighter, powerful with a gun and his signature collapsible staff.

Lᴇᴀɴᴅʀᴀ DᴇCᴏsᴛᴀ ;; African-American ;; human ;; Consortium Node ;; human delegate for the Consortium. somewhat Guetry’s handler, upholds Consortium law to a fault.

Eɴᴄᴀʟᴀʀ Vᴀʀᴜssᴀ ;; silhou ;; C’o ;; talented pilot and decorated veteran of the Milky Way War. twin sister of Emnophene, rarely goes anywhere or does anything without her.

Eɴᴄᴀʟᴀʀ Eᴍɴᴏᴘʜᴇɴᴇ ;; silhou ;; C’o ;; soldier and decorated veteran of the Milky Way War. twin sister of Varussa, has weaker natural abilities compared to the rest of her people.

OsɪʟʟᴏLᴏᴛᴀs ;; lenaya ;; Yalis ;; former Silver Commander of the Cyrio Faction Highfleet on Holeph and captain of OmmilliCulos’ Royal Guard. unbeatable with a sniper rifle, unquestionably loyal, almost completely blind in one eye due to previous injury.

Sᴜʙᴄᴜᴛᴀɴᴇᴏᴜs Oᴘᴇʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴀɴᴅ Tᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴀʟ Sʏsᴛᴇᴍ (SCOT) ;; Artificial Intelligence ;; “Scotty” ;; prototype embedded in Guetry’s brain to undo most of the damage from his overdose and keep him functional. added benefits of enhancing his eyesight and aim, providing intel on missions, and overall companionship.

Please let me know if you’d like to be added to or removed from the following series tag list!:

@starlitesymphony @stand-inthe-rain @timefirewrites @pen-in-hand @madammuffins @quill-of-doom @nemowritesstuff @alternativeforensicscientist @extraisthmus @dowings @piyawrites @writingbyjillian @thescatteredscribbles

#WIP intro #WIP introduction #writeblr #Thriving #now I gotta try to get the fuckin shit tagged right dshafjfdsjalkf #also if I've forgotten to mention anything I'm going to throw a tantrum bigger than one my four-year-old has EVER thrown in his life #there are characters I didn't mention but that was purposeful

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itsjml · 4 years ago

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Hey bestie! It's my turn for a shipping set-up 😏👌 You already know a little about me and who I like but I'm hoping for an UNEXPECTED ship. Get creative on my giddy 🍑.

Im a 5'2" olive skinned latina with amber eyes and brown hair that goes down far past my waist. My wardrobe mainly consists of band/star wars t-shirs, jeans/leggings and shorts but during the summer the chances of you seeing me in a crop/halter top or sun dress is VERY high. (Husband loves the dresses in the summer😜). I also never not have something in my hair. I have massive collections of head bands, hats(some bought and some crocheted by my mother), bandanas in every color, clips and flower crowns(my favorite, i am such a hippie). I used to only wear cat eye liner but i found a way to easily incorporate all of my makeup into one cohesive look i feel confident in. Took me a while to not feel like a clown in face paint😅 I tend to gravitate towards a golden and sparkly finish.

As for my personality, I am bisexual. Im a MAJOR extrovert. I'm also a huge people pleaser, but I've been learning not EVERYONE is worth pleasing. I love learning about anything and everything I don't understand. That translates into shows/movies and games i play. I crave complexity. I read dystopian novels for fun. I learn astrophysics because i want to know how fire burns differently in space than on earth.(things like that👀)

I also do and love art. What cannot be explained in science can be admired in art. I paint anything and everything to things and characters i see in movies to surrealist scenes of wonder and horror.

And finally i am EXTREMELY sensitive. Not just with my feelings, oh no, that too. I'm also clairvoyant and have had some *funny* coincidences that I'm pretty sure weren't coincidences if you catch my drift 🤣. No but for real, i also seriously am a sensitive b*tch when it comes to feelings. I still cry my eyes out watching scenes of star wars I've seen hundreds of times.

That should be enough to go on 🤣 i could say more but i think you can only take so much word salad!

Look who it is, wassup Bestie! 🌺

I ship you with: Qui-Gon Jinn! Mans saw you smoking a joint and asked for a hit. You guys start a conversation and the rest was history. He is captivated by your amber brown eyes and will style your hair whenever. You find out that he also has flower crowns and clips in his wardrobe (go off fashion icon). He loves you with or without makeup on and when you throw on a sun dress, he is swept off his feet. He lets you paint his nails and shows them off to obi-wan. He brings you to meet his friends/ acquaintances and is very glad you’re a people pleaser. He reminds you here and there that not everyone is worth pleasing though. Qui Jon would venture out with you to learn about things you’re interested in. He will also add things to your list of learning and curiosity. His favorite thing to do with you is to get high and paint. When high, he’s a pretty good painter (he’s a stoner). He is your #1 fan when it comes to your drawings/ paintings. He hangs a lot of them up in his room. He will acknowledge your sensitivity and will always keep a note about it. When you’re in distress, feeling down, on your period or just tired, he’ll make you a nice cup of Jasmine tea or whatever you want prefer (he’s a tea enthusiast). He will also advise for you to meditate with him and Obi Wan. Qui Gon barely follows the Jedi code and he loves you with all his heart! 😎❤️

#shipping game #star wars #prequel trilogy #jessica answers

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she-who-fights-and-writes · 5 years ago

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She-who-fights-and-writes Coronacation Book Rec List

I know that a lot of people are stuck at home right now in dire need of entertainment, so I decided I’d put out a book recommendations list of all the books I’m currently reading and all of my must-reads!

(Just a note that a lot of these are Fantasy because I’m a fantasy nerd haha)

Books/Series I am currently reading

1. The Folk of the Air Trilogy by Holly Black (Currently on #2, The Wicked King)

Genre: High Fantasy

Setting: The land of Faerie which is kind of historical, but in the human world it is modern day

Main cast :

Jude Duarte (white, human, cutthroat, if I saw her in a Denny’s Parking Lot at 3am I would RUN)

Cardan Greenbriar (white, faerie, the true embodiment of Bastard)

Vivienne (Jude’s half-sister, lesbian with canon gf, half-human half-faerie, I would totally try to be her friend)

Taryn Duarte (Jude’s twin sister, queen doormat, still, I would take a bullet for her she’s jUST TRYING TO FIT IN)

Rating: 5/5 Stars

These books have been on my “To Read” list for so long now and for some reason I just never got around to reading them! Hands-down, these are some of the best high fantasy books that I’ve read in a long, long while.

I finished the first book, The Cruel Prince, in just two days and rated it 5/5 stars! Even though these books are high fantasy and focus on the traditions and ways of life of faeries, somehow all of the characters seem like I could meet them in real life!

The main character actually has genuine flaws and not just “””“flaws”””” and is a Bad Bitch down with murder, and the plot had me on the edge of my seat from page one!

The summary makes it sound like it’s going to be about their romance, but it’s really mostly about a power struggle and Jude being a badass.

Goodreads summary for The Cruel Prince:

Jude was seven when her parents were murdered and she and her two sisters were stolen away to live in the treacherous High Court of Faerie. Ten years later, Jude wants nothing more than to belong there, despite her mortality. But many of the fey despise humans. Especially Prince Cardan, the youngest and wickedest son of the High King. To win a place at the Court, she must defy him–and face the consequences. As Jude becomes more deeply embroiled in palace intrigues and deceptions, she discovers her own capacity for trickery and bloodshed. But as betrayal threatens to drown the Courts of Faerie in violence, Jude will need to risk her life in a dangerous alliance to save her sisters, and Faerie itself.

2. The Raven Cycle Series by Maggie Stiefvater (Currently on #1, The Raven Boys)

Genre: Present-Day/Realistic Fantasy (?)

Setting: The fictional town of Henrietta, Virginia

I haven’t gotten around to much of the book, so there’s not much I can tell you about the characters and I can’t properly give it a rating yet.

These books were also on my “To Read” list for a while; I was a huge fan of her book The Scorpio Races and have also been looking for something to quench my thirst for “private school/ghosts/magic” that I’ve been dealing with ever since I read The Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo.

I’ve only JUST started The Raven Cycle yesterday, but so far I am hooked! I’m super worried because I’m TERRIBLE at juggling two series at a time but both of these are just so interesting!

Goodreads Summary for The Raven Boys:

“There are only two reasons a non-seer would see a spirit on St. Mark’s Eve,” Neeve said. “Either you’re his true love . . . or you killed him.” It is freezing in the churchyard, even before the dead arrive. Every year, Blue Sargent stands next to her clairvoyant mother as the soon-to-be dead walk past. Blue herself never sees them—not until this year, when a boy emerges from the dark and speaks directly to her. His name is Gansey, and Blue soon discovers that he is a rich student at Aglionby, the local private school. Blue has a policy of staying away from Aglionby boys. Known as Raven Boys, they can only mean trouble. But Blue is drawn to Gansey, in a way she can’t entirely explain. He has it all—family money, good looks, devoted friends—but he’s looking for much more than that. He is on a quest that has encompassed three other Raven Boys: Adam, the scholarship student who resents all the privilege around him; Ronan, the fierce soul who ranges from anger to despair; and Noah, the taciturn watcher of the four, who notices many things but says very little. For as long as she can remember, Blue has been warned that she will cause her true love to die. She never thought this would be a problem. But now, as her life becomes caught up in the strange and sinister world of the Raven Boys, she’s not so sure anymore.

MY MUST-READ BOOK LIST

1. The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee

Genre: Historical Fiction

Setting: 1700s Europe (England, Paris, Barcelona, Marseilles, Venice)

Main cast (I’ll try my best not to spoil anything because you find out a LOT of different stuff about these characters throughout the book):

Henry “Monty” Montague (white, bi/pansexual, attitude problem)

Percy Newton (mixed race, gay, very sweet boy, definitely got “most likely to bring home to mom” in the yearbook)

Felicity Montague (white, Monty’s little sister, headcanoned as asexual, I love her to death)

Rating: 5/5 Stars

Daring adventure, gay representation, historical setting, hilarious characters!

This book literally has it all! I would consider it one of my favorite books of all time, yet for some reason I’ve never gotten around to reading any of the sequel books! The ending is very satisfying and ties everything together, which I feel is part of the reason why I haven’t gotten around to them yet.

Therefore, it can serve as a one-shot read or a full series if you want to dive into something good!

The humor made me laugh out loud at points and all of the characters are very real and very, very relatable, not to mention the vivid settings of 1700s Europe!

Goodreads summary:

Henry “Monty” Montague was born and bred to be a gentleman, but he was never one to be tamed. The finest boarding schools in England and the constant disapproval of his father haven’t been able to curb any of his roguish passions—not for gambling halls, late nights spent with a bottle of spirits, or waking up in the arms of women or men. But as Monty embarks on his Grand Tour of Europe, his quest for a life filled with pleasure and vice is in danger of coming to an end. Not only does his father expect him to take over the family’s estate upon his return, but Monty is also nursing an impossible crush on his best friend and traveling companion, Percy. Still it isn’t in Monty’s nature to give up. Even with his younger sister, Felicity, in tow, he vows to make this yearlong escapade one last hedonistic hurrah and flirt with Percy from Paris to Rome. But when one of Monty’s reckless decisions turns their trip abroad into a harrowing manhunt that spans across Europe, it calls into question everything he knows, including his relationship with the boy he adores.

2. The Ninth House By Leigh Bardugo

Genre: Horror, Fantasy

Setting: Yale University and the town of New Haven, Present Day

Main cast:

Galaxy “Alex” Stern (Hispanic, sees dead people, very scary)

Daniel Arlington “Darlington” (white, rich, an angel who can sometimes be a dick)

Pamela Dawes (tbh I honestly don’t remember what she looks like, only that she’s a tired grad student with big nerd energy)

Detective Alan Turner (Black, takes shit from nobody, husband material)

Rating: 4/5 Stars

(NOTE: THIS IS VERY DARK ADULT FICTION AND CONTAINS MATERIAL THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME PEOPLE, WOULD NOT RECOMMEND FOR PEOPLE UNDER 16)

This book is a great read for someone who’s looking for a disturbing, gritty book with layers upon layers of secrets that you have to peel away as the mystery unfolds. I love the secret societies and the intricate magic systems that the book introduces, and it actually made me hungry for more books like it!

Alex is a three-dimensional, very real character who also serves as an unreliable narrator who witholds or warps the information that she’s telling you, making the narrative all the more riveting.

The only issues that I have with it are the fact that Leigh Bardugo kind of just dumps you in the middle of it without explaining stuff first, to the point where it kind of feels like you’re reading the second installment of a series rather than the first one, so things can get a bit confusing at first.

The book also can drag and draw things out for a bit too long, but once the plot fully kicks into gear, you will not be able to put it down!

Goodreads summary:

Galaxy “Alex” Stern is the most unlikely member of Yale’s freshman class. Raised in the Los Angeles hinterlands by a hippie mom, Alex dropped out of school early and into a world of shady drug dealer boyfriends, dead-end jobs, and much, much worse. By age twenty, in fact, she is the sole survivor of a horrific, unsolved multiple homicide. Some might say she’s thrown her life away. But at her hospital bed, Alex is offered a second chance: to attend one of the world’s most elite universities on a full ride. What’s the catch, and why her? Still searching for answers to this herself, Alex arrives in New Haven tasked by her mysterious benefactors with monitoring the activities of Yale’s secret societies. These eight windowless “tombs” are well-known to be haunts of the future rich and powerful, from high-ranking politicos to Wall Street and Hollywood’s biggest players. But their occult activities are revealed to be more sinister and more extraordinary than any paranoid imagination might conceive.

3. The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer

Genre: Sci-Fi/Fantasy

Setting: Earth, Space, The Moon

Main cast :

Linh Cinder (Chinese, based on Cinderella, cyborg, certified badass)

Scarlet Benoit (French, based on Little Red Riding Hood, farmer who is not afraid to shoot you)

Cress Darnel (White, based on Rapunzel, nerd, I will protect her with my life if I have to)

Kaito “Kai” (Chinese, based on Prince Charming, kind of has to run a whole country, a very kind soul, deserves a nap)

Carswell Thorne (White, based off of Rapunzel’s Prince, bastard)

Winter Hayle (Black, based off of Snow White, royalty, has super special powers)

Wolf (Race unspecified, based off of the Big Bad Wolf, charming killing machine, furry????)

Rating: 5/5 Stars

Do you like fairy tales?

Have you ever wanted to know what fairy tales would be like if they took place in the FUTURE instead of the PAST?

Do you like an amazing, hilarious cast paired with a super interesting plot?

These are the books for you!

I haven’t read them in so long, but I remember how much joy I felt while devouring these pages. Definitely something you will not able to put down!

Goodreads Summary for Book #1: Cinder:

Humans and androids crowd the raucous streets of New Beijing. A deadly plague ravages the population. From space, a ruthless lunar people watch, waiting to make their move. No one knows that Earth's fate hinges on one girl. . . . Cinder, a gifted mechanic, is a cyborg. She's a second-class citizen with a mysterious past, reviled by her stepmother and blamed for her stepsister's illness. But when her life becomes intertwined with the handsome Prince Kai's, she suddenly finds herself at the center of an intergalactic struggle, and a forbidden attraction. Caught between duty and freedom, loyalty and betrayal, she must uncover secrets about her past in order to protect her world's future.

4. The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

Genre: Fantasy

Setting: Ancient Greece

Main cast:

Patroclus (Greek, Gay, quiet pining)

Achilles (Greek, gay, very strong, student athlete energy)

Brisies (Anatolian, clever, literally the only one in this story who has a brain cell)

Rating: 100000/5 stars

This is basically the Iliad but if historians hadn’t completely erased Patroclus and Achilles’ relationship. “Haha yeah these guys were totally bros” they say, even though I have read the Iliad and their relationship isn’t even subtle.

This book made me cry at least ten times. It’s just so beautifully written and has such a distinct vibe to it that whenever I crack it open for another time, it takes me straight back to the vacation that I read it on. (Needless to say, sobbing your eyes out can be less than helpful when you’re on the beach)

If you can only read one book on this list, it should be this one. I could talk all day about it and write novels on just how much of an incredible writer Madeline Miller is, but I feel like you’d get my drift a bit better if you actually read the book.

Goodreads Summary:

Greece in the age of heroes. Patroclus, an awkward young prince, has been exiled to the court of King Peleus and his perfect son Achilles. By all rights their paths should never cross, but Achilles takes the shamed prince as his friend, and as they grow into young men skilled in the arts of war and medicine their bond blossoms into something deeper - despite the displeasure of Achilles' mother Thetis, a cruel sea goddess. But then word comes that Helen of Sparta has been kidnapped. Torn between love and fear for his friend, Patroclus journeys with Achilles to Troy, little knowing that the years that follow will test everything they hold dear. Profoundly moving and breathtakingly original, this rendering of the epic Trojan War is a dazzling feat of the imagination, a devastating love story, and an almighty battle between gods and kings, peace and glory, immortal fame and the human heart.

Hope this list helps you through your coronacation, and please don’t be afraid to reblog or message me to tell me if you’ve read/will read any of these!

#books #book recs #book rec #book reccomendation #book reccomendations #coronacation #corona #coronavirus #covid-19 #book rec list

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stevenuniversetanzanite · 6 years ago

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Someone Must Get Hurt (Cordelia x Reader (Part 1))

This is set during around and through coven so she’s still Cordelia Foxx technically.

Summary: Reader joins Miss Robichaux's swearing she would keep her main power to her grave. She doesn’t expect to fall for the Headmistress.

Note: This story was inspired by my vague memory of the soul eater in the x files episode the gift. Subconsciously also inspired by a great fanfic which I will insert the link as soon as I find it.

I’m not American so any odd spelling, phrases or inaccuracies. I apologies for in advance. Also, I’ll come up with a name for this later. This is my first Cordelia x reader and mostly set up.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

You'd been sent to the academy because you had accidentally set your curtains on fire in a fit of rage. A bland reason but you couldn't deny that's how you learned about the school. After being kicked out by your roommate after you 'committed arson' and forced to move back in with your parents, they spilt the beans. You were from a long line of witches going back to Salem. You thought they were taking the piss out of you all the way up until you stood outside of the black cast-iron gates of Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies. The name of the school being coded for the students' protection. They couldn't flat out say there was a school of witches leaving in New Orleans.

What your parents told you explained a lot about your past. You had the ability to 'heal' other's injuries- mainly using it on your friends and siblings. For your safety, you made them swear to never to tell anyone; not teachers, other children or even your parents. They abused your power. Every cut, scratch and broken limb. It tore away at your heart. If you refused, they threatened to tell. They never did, they knew they had you wrapped around their finger.

Your power didn’t come without its downsides. The universe isn’t that forgiving. Someone had to hurt. Always cloaked in long sleeve and skinny jeans to hide the mistakes from being too kind. Heatstroke became your best friend in the summertime.

Healing wasn’t the best word to describe your power. It was more a transference of pain. You could take it away from someone else if you choose too.

So, when you first walked through the halls of the school, you swore to never tell a soul about your true gift. You hid it from the other girls and your headmaster. Nan knew, as soon as it was mentioned she was clairvoyant you gave it away. Curse the human brain for thinking about what it shouldn’t.

She was kind enough not to mention it to the others. You were nicer to her because of it. The other’s you were wary of. Queenie’s power scared you, she could easily bring harm to others- mainly Madison had the urge to push people's buttons. Queenie ended up being nice to you. When Zoe joined the two of you got along well.

The headmistress was a whole other thing. Cordelia Foxx took your breath away from the moment you met her. She was aware of your boundaries and willing to obey them- something few people did. Not to mention she was heavenly. It was shocking that no one took her seriously. She had very little control over the girls -Madison was the worst. She was incessantly rude to everyone who crossed her path, but Cordelia never raised her voice at any of you. You wish she did, that movie star needed to be put in her place.

It was common knowledge among the students that you worshipped the land that Cordelia walked on, which flooded you with inappropriate comments from the others whenever she left the room.

She had one flaw. Her husband.

Your chances were cut off when met Hank Foxx. You immediately loathed the man. Whether it was due to your new-found feelings for your teacher or a sixth sense, you had an intuition about how people were. He was rotten to the core. You got the same feeling when Fiona showed up. Fiona gave you the heebie-jeebies. Her aura was dark- nothing good could come from her arrival.

This place was meant to be your haven. At first, it was. No serious harm happened to anyone in the coven. Your urge to help people was manageable. To play it safe whenever someone got injured, you rushed out. Paper cut, you were out of the room in a second. The school began to think you were squeamish at the sight of blood until the girls had caught you watching a slasher.

The group had come back from watching a horror movie at the cinemas. You weren't invited because they thought you wouldn't be able to handle it. They were going to head into the living room to calm down for the night before heading to their respective rooms.

Madison strolled up to you to see what you were watching, "Hi bitch." She grabbed your shoulders shoving you forward. The sudden contact caused you to jump. You scrambled to pause your movie.

It was Zoe who noticed what you were watching first. “Y/n, how are you watching that?” Zoe asked. The group stared at the screen.

“I stole miss’s laptop,” you were oblivious to what she was asking. Fearing they would rat you out, you tried to reason with them, "She had Netflix and I couldn’t help myself.”

“Are you watching a slasher?” Queenie asked.

“Yeah?”

“They have blood in it,” she spoke again, hinting at why they were surprised.

“It wouldn’t be a good slasher if it didn’t.” You were left in the dark when it came to what the others thought about you.

The commotion late at night caused Cordelia to appear asking what they were doing up this late.

“We caught Y/n watching a slasher,” Nan filled Cordelia in. Her face went from confusion to surprise.

“I thought you didn’t like the sight of blood?” Cordelia said.

“No- I mean, I don’t like it, but I can stand it.”

“Then why do you dash at the sight of blood?”

“Odd behaviour for someone who can stand the sight," One of the girls said.

“I’m done with this conversation; I’m going to bed.” You got up and left the room, leaving the laptop left open where it was.

“Is that my laptop?” Cordelia asked.

You kept your secret intact for another day, but you feared that soon they would know.

The next morning you all received a talk about taking other people's things. This was obviously addressed to you. Madison made a joke about her being lucky that you didn’t look through her porn, which led to loads of questions about whether you had looked said stash or if she even had anything to find. Madison brought it up to mess with you and all the others decided to join in once they noticed how red you got. The whole tangent making both you and Cordelia immensely uncomfortable. Cordelia cleared her throat, catching the attention of all the girls before one of them could make another inappropriate comment. The headmistress decided to end the morning meaning early.

The oldest witch couldn’t have wanted to leave any faster.

“Ms Foxx?" She hummed to notify you that she heard. She focused all her attention on you. You observed her body language, her hands clasped together in front of her. You screwed but big this time. She was in a rush to get out of here and now you’re keeping her longer forcing her to interact with you, in what is going to be a failure of an apology, you thought. "I'm sorry about borrowing your laptop. For the record, I only used it to watch movies. I didn't look through any personal files like Madison was suggesting and I know that me saying that makes it seem like I did but-"

She cut you off, "I know you wouldn't do that," she said. "They were just riling me up." Yeah. Wait, her up. How would that rile her up? You thought.

“So, we’re good?”

“Yes. Now run along, I think breakfast is being served.” She nudged you towards the kitchen. “I’ll see you in class.”

#cordelia goode x reader #cordelia x reader #cordelia foxx x reader #cordelia goode image

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silverware-and-glasses · 5 years ago

Text

The Unexpected Allure of Ronald Knox

The Unexpected Allure of Ronald Knox (6164 words) by silverware_and_glasses

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: Ronald Knox/Sebastian Michaelis

Characters: Ronald Knox, Sebastian Michaelis

Summary:

Sebastian stumbles upon Ronald during his first night on the Campania. After being drawn in by his soft hair and deadly sharp wit, Sebastian finds there are some things reapers are good for.

This was originally a little celebratory fic to jokingly commemorate 69 kudos on Legitimacy but it got out of hand and went on way longer than expected. But what is Sebron without some obligatory PWP set on the Campania.

Read in full under the cut (if you’re over 18) or on AO3 in the link above

Sebastian had a whole night ahead of him.

He had never been on a luxury cruise liner before. The last time he’d spent a prolonged period in the human world the technology required to build something as grand as the Campania simply hadn’t existed. With his master in bed and hopefully asleep until morning, Sebastian had the rest of the night ahead of him to play with as he pleased. He had no interest in feigning sleep, especially not in the cramped servant’s quarters he was expected to share with the new footman. Instead he found himself exploring, wandering the decks in search of something interesting. This was how he found himself on the third class deck, in a lively little bar that showed no signs of slowing down despite the late hour. There were a few maids and valets in uniform lounging around, clearly in much the same situation as himself. Sebastian had little interest in talking to any of them, but here at least he could relax without seeming conspicuous in his butler’s attire.

Then he spotted the reaper.

Of course there was a reaper. What kind of trans-continental assignment from the queen would be complete without a reaper present? He looked like a passenger; he certainly didn’t appear to be on duty. Although he was more or less dressed in uniform, his collar lay open and his jacket was missing, no doubt discarded somewhere in his eagerness to reach the dance floor. Something drastic must have been scheduled to happen if he was here, but not immediately. Tonight he looked carefree, dancing away with a bright eyed young woman occasionally darting in and out of his arms. He had impeccable footwork. It irked Sebastian somewhat to admit it.

Sebastian ordered a drink, only because he had nothing better to do with his hands. Being third class there wasn’t much choice, so Sebastian found himself staring down a pint of beer so dark it almost matched his clothing. He took a sip. Oh. It was putrid. But now that he’d paid for it he felt obligated to choke it down. He couldn't believe humans liked this sort of thing.

There was an empty table at one side of the room, which Sebastian sat down at. It had been hastily vacated, there were still half-finished drinks and personal effects scattered around left by a group of people clearly eager to start dancing. Sebastian paid that no mind and chose one of the chairs with no jacket draped over the back, and set to watching the dancers. There were a couple of dozen humans dancing away, but as Sebastian sipped his drink he kept finding his eyes inexplicably drawn back to the reaper. He was quite handsome, Sebastian idly found himself thinking, despite those ridiculous goggles he wore. His garishly two-toned hair looked soft. Sebastian had a fancy of plunging his fingers into that feathery fringe, tugging his head back and—

Sebastian glanced down at his now almost finished pint. Perhaps it was stronger than usual beer. His kind didn’t feel the effects of alcohol too readily, but there was at least the beginning tinges of a buzz. Enough, at least, to make bedding a reaper seem somehow no longer abhorrent.

“Whaaaaat is going on here?”

Sebastian hadn’t noticed the reaper sail over until he’d spoken. The drink was stronger than he’d thought. He tried not to let his surprise show. Without haste, Sebastian allowed his eyes to slowly climb the reaper’s form, pretending he was nothing more than bored.

“I’m enjoying a drink,” Sebastian said. He tilted his glass for emphasis.

The reaper planted both hands on the table and leaned across so that he was almost hovering over him. He thought he could intimidate Sebastian. How cute.

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“You’re right,” Sebastian admitted, “it’s quite revolting.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Let him who is without sin cast the first stone,” Sebastian drawled, “Somehow I doubt you’re here on holiday, so sit down reaper and stop embarrassing yourself.”

The reaper hesitated for a moment, then slunk into one of the free seats at the table. “Don’t call me that, someone might hear.”

“You don’t want people to know you’re a reaper?” Sebastian asked deliberately loudly.

The reaper cringed, then glanced about to make sure no one had heard. His embarrassment was endearing. Sebastian wondered how much more he could draw out of him. He imagined those milky cheeks stained red, flushed with the humiliation of losing himself to a demon. Yes, Sebastian liked that thought. He took a sip of his drink to disguise his creeping smile. He liked it a lot.

“What should I call you then?” Sebastian asked as he set down his drink, “If you don’t want me to call you reaper.”

“Ronald Knox.” He made a hand gesture as he said this that Sebastian recognised from one of another reaper he’d met. It was rather insipid. “And you?”

“I have had many na—”

“Ugh,” Ronald interrupted, “You lot are so fucking tedious with your goddamn cryptic bullshit.” He reached across the table, tugged Sebastian’s beer from his hands and, to Sebastian’s horror, started drinking from it. “Just tell me whatever name you currently go by and be done with it.”

Sebastian was too scandalised from the sight of his beer, his beer, vanishing between the reaper’s foul lips, to work up a proper reply to the taunt. Rancid as it was, the sheer violation of proper boundaries had Sebastian seething. He really would have to put this reaper in his place.

“Sebastian,” Sebastian said. “Sebastian Mic—“

“Of course you are,” Ronald remarked.

“Would it be too much to let me finish even one sentence?”

Ronald ignored this. “Guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. A disaster like this is like a buffet to your kind.”

“What disaster?” Sebastian asked, his curiosity piqued.

“You don’t know?”

“Unlike your kind, I possess no clairvoyant capabilities.”

Ronald shrugged, “Well you’ll find out soon enough.” He took another sip of Sebastian’s beer.

“Must you drink that?”

“You said you didn’t like it.”

“That’s besides the point.”

“Fine.” Ronald stood up. “I’ll get my own.”

But when he returned he returned with two, and Sebastian found himself having to force down another one of these putrid drinks. Ronald watched in fascination as he quickly downed the rest of his first one, then suppress a shudder at the sight of a whole second one waiting for him.

“You don’t have to drink it,” he said with a lilting grin.

“I can handle this much,” Sebastian sneered

Ronald raised his own glass in a mockery of a toast. “Bottom’s up then,” he said.

Not wanting to be outdone, Sebastian drank most of his glass, then regretted it when it fell thickly on his stomach. Ronald had barely made a dent in his own.

“So, what do you want?” Ronald asked, breaking the silence that was threatening to spread.

Sebastian peered expressionlessly at Ronald over the top of his glass. “I believe you were the one who approached me.”

“Only because you wouldn’t stop staring at me.”

Sebastian hadn’t realised Ronald had noticed. “I was surprised to see a reaper down here,” he said.

“Oh? So you were thinking about the best way to kill me I bet,” Ronald said.

Sebastian let the barest of smiles creep onto his face. He was surprised Ronald would be so confident when he thought a demon was planning to kill him. “Believe it or not, I wasn’t.”

“Why were you staring at me then?”

This was one of the few situations where Sebastian wished that lying was possible. His master wasn’t there, no one would have to know. But something about that seemed base. The truth, he decided, would make the reaper more uncomfortable than any lie.

“Your hair looks soft,” He admitted. “I was imagining how it would feel to touch it.”

Ronald turned pink and ducked his head into his beer. Now that was the proper response. That reaction was so much more interesting than any threat could ever be. Sebastian watched as he took a long drink, recovering his dignity. When his eyes met Sebastian’s once more he’d regained his confidence. His expression even cockier than before, if that were possible.

“I’d say the same to you but your hair looks terrible,” Ronald said.

“Now that simply isn’t true.” It was time to steer away from this messy subject before Ronald had any more ideas about insulting Sebastian’s hair. “Whatever happened to that girl you were dancing with?” Sebastian asked.

“Who? Oh,” Ronald passed half glance behind him, where the girl was still dancing while occasionally stopping to glower at Sebastian. “I don’t even know her name.”

“If you were planning to bed her you’d best go back. She doesn’t look too happy with you.”

Ronald waved a dismissive hand. “She can go, I’ve been with plenty of women,” he said. His eyes met Sebastian’s, unwavering and damnably precocious. “But I’ve never fucked a demon before.”

Sebastian choked on his drink like a disgraceful human who couldn’t even keep track of his own bodily functions. Whatever Sebastian had expected Ronald to say, it wasn’t that. He found his guard shattered around his feet, and in the reflection of each jutting shard was Ronald’s insolent little grin. The preposition had come completely out of nowhere. It was obscene.

But he’d already taken too long to reply. Ronald was grinning at him with that annoying smug goddamn smirk. It was more than Sebastian could bear. For once he didn’t know how to handle this situation. Why did so many of the reapers he met seem to have this sort of interest in him? Well alright, he knew why. Sebastian was under illusions about his appearance. After all, he’d sculpted it to perfection himself. And he couldn’t deny this young man was handsome. He’d be athletic under that suit. Sebastian tried to imagine how that lithe body would feel in his arms and decided that two could certainly play at this game. What fun he could have with it too.

He recovered his face, then leaned back in his seat, peering at Ronald through his lashes. “What makes you think you’d be the one in charge.”

Ronald didn’t answer that question. “Would you like to find out?”

‘No,’ was the reply Ronald clearly expected. ‘No,’ was the reply Sebastian would have given in any other situation. But he’d drunk just enough to throw caution to the wind, and the temptation of breaking this reaper was more than he could bear.

“Go on then,” he said instead, “Show me.”

A beat. Sebastian was right then. Ronald hadn’t expected him to agree.

“I can’t exactly show you here, can I?”

Sebastian cocked his head to the side, grinning now. He was starting to enjoy this game. “I suspected so. You’re all talk aren’t you.”

Ronald, bless him, snatched up the bait. “I meant we’d better go somewhere else. You must have some fancy first class digs right?”

“Hardly,” Sebastian said, “I’m staying in servants quarters of my master’s suite.”

“Is it a private room?”

“No, I’m sharing with the footman.”

Ronald clicked his tongue. “Well we can’t go to my room, I’m staying in a dormitory.”

“Then what do you suggest.”

Ronald shrugged. “Maybe there’s a carriage in the cargo hold we can use.”

“That’s an abysmal idea.”

“Got a better one?”

He didn’t, not that he planned to admit that. To save himself, he stood up, his chair squeaking against the new tiles, and gestured to the door. “Follow me.” Much to his pleasure Ronald did, although he paused to finish what was left of his drink first. They exited the thriving hum of the bar, and were met with silence. A silence that carved right into Sebastian’s veins. ‘You’re really doing this,’ it seemed to say. ‘You’re really going to bed a reaper.’

He didn’t much like that commentary. He decided to ignore it.

“Where are we going?” Ronald chimed from behind him in that grating voice of his. Sebastian hoped he’d have something better to occupy his mouth soon, so that he wouldn’t have to hear much more of it. In truth, Sebastian didn’t know the answer. He stayed silent, allowing Ronald to follow in blind faith as he used all his senses to check each room in turn, searching for one along this seemingly endless corridor that remained unused. With each room they passed, Sebastian grew ever more concerned that they were stuck aboard a fully booked ship.

But then he struck gold. He quickened his pace, eager to reach it and ensure he was correct. It was only small—certainly not a lodging—but it would do. He pushed the door open and, without any ceremony, stepped inside.

Ronald, however, remained on the threshold.

“This is a cupboard.”

“I think you’ll find the correct word is storeroom. Look,” he tugged on a short chain above his head, filling the room with light, “there’s even electric lighting.”

“It’s a cupboard.”

Alright, so it was a cupboard. But it was a large cupboard. Large enough that they could easily stand side by side with wriggle room on either side. Plenty of space for doing what needed to be done. Sebastian conveyed this to Ronald without words, just a cold raising of his eyebrows. He could either accept this glorified cupboard, or he could be the one to give up first. It was an amazing drug pride. One small dose was all it took for Ronald to swear total obedience to him. And the poor dear still thought he was in control.

“It’s fitting I guess,” Ronald said, stepping over a bucket so that he could wedge inside. “Matches your whole butler getup.”

Sebastian shut the door behind him. Then they were alone. Ronald Knox was mere centimetres away, ready and willing to be touched. Suddenly Sebastian wasn’t sure where to start. Proper protocol dictated that this is when they should kiss, but nothing about this was proper. He shuffled closer, close enough to feel Ronald’s shallow breath against his skin.

But he didn’t kiss him.

“Get on with it then,” Sebastian said.

“You’re not going to try to set the scene a little.”

Sebastian cast a lingering gaze upon a box of toilet paper on a shelf over Ronald’s right shoulder. “In such luxurious accomodations I’d assume the scene was already well set.”

“Fair call,” Ronald said. He placed his palm flat on Sebastian’s chest, just over his heart. There was a moment’s hesitation. “You have a heartbeat,” he murmured.

“I’m in human form. It’s rather a necessity.”

“Does it ever feel like a human’s can?”

Ronald hadn’t moved, but he suddenly felt closer. The cupboard felt smaller, and his heart was growing. It seemed to move to his ears, because it seemed to be smothering him, giving him the feeling that he was underwater. All he could hear was his pulse, all he could feel was Ronald’s hand.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Sebastian said.

Ronald’s smile was full of pity. “Of course you don’t,” he muttered. “I guess I just have to speak a language you do understand.” He lowered himself to his knees, but kept his hand against Sebastian’s chest, allowing his fingertips to glide down Sebastian’s body. It was joined by the other only when it reached the leather of Sebastian’s belt, and it became abundantly clear what his intentions were.

“Not one for foreplay, are you.” Sebastian remarked.

Ronald cocked an eyebrow but continued to work at undoing Sebastian’s belt, then trousers. “I’d assume the scene was already well set,’” he said.

Cocksure little brat.

His trousers were undone. Ronald’s nimble fingers were already reaching inside to free Sebastian’s length. Sebastian sighed and closed his eyes to savour the sensations he knew awaited him.

“Eager aren’t you?”

“I could do without your commentary,” Sebastian said without opening his eyes. “Just do what I brought you here do to.”

Ronald snorted but didn’t reply, as though the sheer concept of Sebastian dominating him was so ludicrous it wasn’t worth even considering. That arrogant—

Ah…

So that’s what a reaper’s mouth felt like. Sebastian leaned against the wall, savouring the feeling of Ronald’s tongue against his flesh. He felt himself rapidly hardening at Ronald’s ministrations, responding like some needy, desperate human who hadn’t been fucked in years. But oh, it was nice to just let go, to let pleasure come to him. He let out a shaking sigh as Ronald took him in as far as he’d go, then the smallest moan as he felt himself leave Ronald’s hot mouth and was exposed to the cool air.

“You’re surprisingly sensitive,” Ronald mused, before drawing Sebastian back into his mouth.

Brat. Sebastian pulled his gloves off and tossed them aside so that he could finally run his hands through Ronald’s hair. It was as soft as he’d imagined. The strands fell away from his caresses like the finest spider’s silk. Always gloved, his hands were desperately sensitive, and the dual sensation of Ronald’s hair against his palms and Ronald’s mouth against his cock had him shuddering, moaning softly.

At the sound of Sebastian’s voice, Ronald pulled away again. “Are you going to come?” He goaded. “So soon?”

A breathy laugh passed through Sebastian’s lips. “Oh Sweetheart.” Sebastian ran a thumb over Ronald’s parted lips. “This isn’t nearly enough to satisfy me.”

He twisted his fingers into Ronald’s hair then, and pulled tight. Ronald opened his mouth to protest, but Sebastian took the opportunity to push his cock past those lips again. Ronald gagged. He writhed under Sebastian’s grip and tried to free himself. Sebastian indulged in one last thrust, then let go, allowing Ronald to pull himself off Sebastian and lurch the entire half foot away that the closet allowed for.

“What the fuck do you think—“

“Take your clothes off,” Sebastian said. “All of them.”

“Are you joking?”

“You just had my cock in your mouth and you’re embarrassed now?”

“There’s barely enough room to move in here.”

Sebastian blinked. “Take them off. Or you can go. It’s up to you.”

“You take yours off too.”

Sebastian stared at him in the dim light. He had no intention of undressing. “Start with your jacket.”

“I know how to get undressed.”

“Then do it.”

Ronald hesitated a moment, then slowly peeled his jacket from his shoulders, his eyes locked with Sebastian’s in a glower. With long, languishing movements, Ronald’s hands trailed down his body, then back up to his tie, which he ever so carefully unhooked from around his neck. Sebastian made a point of watching every painfully slow movement as Ronald undid the buttons of his shirt. He’d lived for thousands of years, he could wait for one irritating reaper to take his clothes off, even if at this rate they’d arrive in New York before he’d reached his underclothes.

The final button came undone and Sebastian finally had to intervene. “That’s enough. You’re being too slow.”

“You said to take everything off.”

“Yes but at this speed I could go back to the bar and find someone else to spend the night with before you’d even taken your socks off.” Sebastian put his hand on the door handle. “Thank you for whatever that was Knox. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again.” He pulled down the handle.

“Wait…”

Sebastian released the handle. Without turning around he smiled to himself, savouring that hasty rustling of cloth as Ronald sprang to action. When Sebastian at last allowed himself a peek at Ronald’s progress, he was wearing nothing but his open shirt, and a tight, short style of underwear that had Sebastian wondering why he hadn’t taken a reaper to bed earlier.

Sebastian closed what little distance remained between them. He slid his hands over Ronald’s bare skin, brushing his nipples, then trailing down his back and cupping the flesh of his arse through that tiny undergarment.

“May I?” Sebastian breathed.

Ronald shrugged and looked away. “Go ahead,” he said. There was the faintest stammer in those words, one that made Sebastian smile to himself as he slid that sinful little garment from around Ronald’s hips. His cock sprung to attention the moment it was free of its confines, and Sebastian couldn’t help but run a hand gently over it. Ronald’s breath hitched at the touch, then he released a groan when the motion repeated. Sebastian crouched and planted a kiss on Ronald’s inner thigh, then another on his stomach. He gave Ronald’s cock another mindless stroke and enjoyed the way Ronald’s legs started to quiver.

Sebastian realised his mouth was open, but he didn’t care enough to shut it. He wanted him. God he wanted him. He wanted to bury himself in this cocky reaper’s perfect little arse and utterly loose himself to everything around him. He climbed shakily back to his feet, eyes running up and down that splendidly toned body, and buried his hand in Ronald’s hair again, dragging him closer.

“Not so suave now, are you?” Ronald said breathlessly.

So Sebastian kissed him. It seemed like the only good way to shut him up. Ronald’s mouth was hot against his own, and so, so pliable. Sebastian seemed to get lost in it, that softness. The taste of beer was still fresh enough on his tongue that it made Sebastian feel filthy, but everything about this encounter made him feel filthy. None of this was befitting of a perfect butler. That was part of the thrill.

The kiss seemed to wear down something in Ronald. Sebastian broke away, and immediately found his lips recaptured. And then again. And again, until Sebastian found himself leaning lazily on the wall while Ronald tried to drink everything from him. It was cute, the way he thought he’d pinned Sebastian to the wall. But for now, Sebastian only kissed him back.

Ronald’s hips rolled, forcing a smootherd groan from Sebastian’s lips. Sebastian let his hands trail down Ronald’s sides, then held him in place as as he returned the favour. Ronald broke the kiss then, his eyes squeezing shut, his breath ragged. It was the opening Sebastian was waiting for. He tightened his grip on Ronald’s hips, then pushed him across the tiny room, easily switching their positions in the two strides it took to reach the other side. He pushed Ronald into the door then, glad for the fact that it opened inward and wasn’t about to collapse. Their lips met once more, hungrier this time, almost desperate, before Sebastian broke away and put his lips to Ronald’s ear.

“Still think you’re the one in control?” Sebastian whispered. For good measure he bit the reaper’s earlobe, drawing a groan of mingled irritation and arousal from beneath him.

Even Ronald seemed to know when the game was lost. “If I was in control we’d be finished by now.”

Ronald clearly hadn’t realised that he wasn’t paying himself a compliment there. But he was right, perhaps it was time to speed things up a bit. It was unfortunate they had no oil to hand. Preparation was a pain for someone he didn’t care about, but it was going to be less pleasant for both of them if Sebastian didn’t at least make some effort. If he looked for long enough Sebastian was sure he’d find something in this cupboard they could use, but bothering for a reaper he’d only just met and who he’d likely be fighting before their voyage was out seemed like too much effort. Instead he pressed two fingers against Ronald’s lips, which immediately clamped shut.

“Suck on them,” Sebastian commanded.

“Hell n—“ Sebastian shoved them in anyway as Ronald tried so speak. For a moment Sebastian was sure Ronald would to bite them, but he never did. His wide, furious eyes fell half lidded, and he began to lavish the same expert attention on Sebastian’s fingers as he had on his cock not so long ago.

Sebastian shuddered, then buried his face in the crook of Ronald’s bare shoulder. He’d known his hands were sensitive, but he hadn’t realised… he bit back the noise that built in his throat, then rocked his hips against Ronald’s once again, if for nothing else than to convince himself that he wasn’t so worked up from Ronald sucking his fingers alone. Even so, he didn’t last long. Before long he freed himself from that horribly, horribly talented mouth, and spun Ronald around so that his chest was pressed against the door. Sebastian positioned his fingers at Ronald’s entrance, then pushed them inside without any ceremony.

They went in easily enough. It may have been Ronald’s first time with a demon but it certainly wasn’t his first time with a man. Even with Sebastian’s half-hearted attempt at lubrication, it didn’t take long for his fingers to move smoothly. Under his ministrations, Ronald slowly started to turn into a writhing, mewling mess. His back arched, that smooth skin pulling taught along his sides. Sebastian ran his free hand over his back just to feel him. Oh, how he loved the feel of him.

Ronald seemed dangerously close to spilling over the edge when Sebastian withdrew his fingers. The sudden loss seemed to break him. He cried out, throwing his head back, scrambling against the door as though that might somehow bring the sensation back.

“Are you ready?” Sebastian asked. The answer was obvious of course. But he wanted Ronald to admit his need. To feel the burning shame of admitting to the arousal that was so apparent. To submit entirely to a demon.

Ronald mumbled something incoherent.

“I didn’t catch that.”

He mumbled it again. This time Sebastian did understand him, but now that he’d heard it once he wanted to again. “Once again,” he said, feigning innocence.

“I said hurry up and fuck me,” Ronald cried. He kept his face forward, so that Sebastian couldn’t see his shame, but there was no hiding the burning red that spread down his back.

“We’ll have to work on your manners,” Sebastian mused. Then, at long last, he pushed into him. They cried out as one, Ronald at the sudden intrusion, Sebastian at the sheer sweet heat that enveloped him. He only waited the duration of Ronald’s shuddering gasp for him to adjust. Then Sebastian withdrew slowly and reentered equally so, drawing out a long, irritated groan from Ronald. Sebastian laughed to himself, then picked up the pace, closing his eyes and loosing himself in the sensations. In his arms, Ronald cried out again, this time not in frustration. The feeling was mutual. With each stroke Sebastian’s wiped the clarity from his mind. This, Sebastian thought, was well worth the wait.

“Does it feel good? Losing like this to one of my kind?”

Ronald didn’t reply. He was getting close, Sebastian could feel it in every convulsion, every time he clenched around Sebastian’s cock. “‘So soon?’” Sebastian purred. However, as much as it satisfied him to use Ronald’s words back at him, Sebastian hoped the answer was yes. As much as he wanted to hide it he could feel himself creeping ever closer to that blissful edge, and he couldn’t bear to be the one to fall first.

“What’d you say?”

It wasn’t Ronald who spoke. They both froze, Ronald especially staring in horror at the closed door. Sebastian had been so lost in the moment he hadn’t bothered to listen for anyone’s approach. Truth be told, he didn’t much care if they were overheard as long as no one could link it back to him. Ronald, on the other hand, seemed mortified by the prospect. And that was a thrill in itself.

“I didn’t say anything,” came another voice on the other side of the door, closer this time.

“Weird, I could’ve sworn I heard—“

Sebastian slowly thrust in again, then cupped over Ronald’s mouth, smothering his cry, keeping it all to himself.

“Shh,” Sebastian said. “We don’t want them to overhear us do we?”

He stopped moving, but kept himself fully sheathed inside Ronald, pressed against his most sensitive spot. Ronald writhed in his arms as the voices grew closer, practically sobbing as the promise of pleasure tickled against him, never quite offering enough for release. The sheer sight of it had Sebastian desperate to start moving again. That slick body squirming in his arms, the clenching of muscle around his cock, it was driving him mad. Everything Ronald Knox did seemed to be a conspiracy to make him lose his mind. He wanted to slam him through that door, and roughly fuck him on the ground in front of whoever cared to cross their path, but he reigned himself back. He had another, slower torture in mind.

One hand circled Ronald’s cock and caressed him gently. Very, gently. He deliberately refused to create any of the friction Ronald so desired, and instead barely more than fondled him. Ronald keened at the lack of friction. He tried to grind against Sebastian’s hand, but Sebastian had him positioned in such a way that wouldn’t allow him to get any leverage. He clawed at the door in a futile grab for a better position. So pathetic. What an utterly delicious sight. Ronald trembled around Sebastian, his whole body clearly aching for release, for movement, for anything. But as long as they were in danger of being overheard, Sebastian had no intention of moving an inch. There were still humans nearby, and they were closer than ever.

“Good god what was that?” One of the voices said.

“Sounds like there’s a dog scratching to get out.”

Sebastian chuckled at this. He felt Ronald’s body catch fire, the sheer humiliation of being heard rushing through him like an inferno. Sebastian dropped his hand from Ronald’s mouth, allowing him to make whatever noises he dared to make. The reaper convulsed, now fighting desperately on his own to swallow the cries that threatened to escape and reveal all.

“Did you hear that?” Sebastian’s fingers trailed down Ronald’s chin as he whispered, then curled around his throat, not choking, only resting. A reminder of who was in control. A collar, in a way. “They think you’re a dog.”

“Should we let the brute out?” Another voice asked.

Ronald tried to push Sebastian back from the door, but Sebastian had no intention of moving. Sebastian only pushed deeper into him, forcing Ronald flush against the door. This time he swallowed his cry, but only barely. His arms were trembling at the force of keeping himself up, his whole body falling apart from the overstimulation of Sebastian’s dual ministrations.

“’s not any of our business,” the first voice said. Sebastian felt every muscle of Ronald’s body loosen as relief spread through him. The footsteps started up again, then faded to nothing.

The room once again fell silent. Ronald squirmed in his arms like a cat who’d had too much attention. Sebastian wanted to see his face. He could only imagine those crimson cheeks, the humiliation in his eyes when they were overheard. He was disappointed to have missed it. Manhandling the poor reaper like a rag doll, Sebastian pulled him off his cock and turned him around to face him. His eyes had completely glazed over, his desire consuming him entirely. Sebastian brushed Ronald’s sweat slicked hair from his eyes to get a better look, and found a delicious fury staring back.

“I’m going to kill you,” Ronald spat.

Sebastian only grinned. “Would you like to do so now or wait until after you’ve come?”

Ronald grabbed Sebastian’s face and drew him into a forceful, desperate kiss. Then, just as he was pulling away, Ronald bit down hard, until Sebastian’s blood rushed into his mouth.

“Fuck you,” Ronald said in a shuddering whisper.

Sebastian tried to keep his expression as cold as possible, even though his own senses were so alight he was almost surprised to find himself bleeding blood and not flame. He dabbed his lip with his clean fingers, pretending he was more interested in his wound than the wanton, desperate reaper before him.

“Would you prefer to stop?” Sebastian asked. He only did so because he knew the answer was a resounding no, and delighted in the expression of horror that dawned on Ronald’s face. Sebastian laughed to himself, then leaned in and kissed the dip of Ronald’s throat. He wanted to coax a proper response out of Ronald, but he knew it would take too long to work around the reaper’s pride, and Sebastian knew even he wouldn’t last that long. Instead he lifted Ronald’s legs one at a time and wrapped them around his hips, then finally, blissfully, pushed his way back inside.

“Don’t you dare drop me,” Ronald hissed between his teeth.

Sebastian thrust hard to shut him up, and it seemed to do the trick.

It was hard to get any leverage in this position. As Sebastian ground against Ronald’s prostate, Ronald tightened his grip with his legs, barely allowing Sebastian any space to properly move. Sebastian felt like he was less thrusting and more rutting against Ronald, in a frantic animalistic fervour. He found himself having to move desperately quickly to compensate for the lack of depth. But it was worth it for Ronald’s response. Locked in like this, Sebastian’s cock was wedged firmly against his prostate, and every shallow grinding rut only massaged his most sensitive part, driving him madly towards bliss. He was shaking around Sebastian, barely managing to hold himself up. Sebastian drank in that expression, that semi-conscious bliss that drenched his every feature.

And then Ronald fell apart. Even though the walls of reality were steadily crumbling around him, Sebastian kept his eyes fixed on Ronald’s face as he reached his limit. Eyes clenched shut behind his fogged glasses, Ronald threw back his head, lips parted sweetly as his orgasm hit. He cried out with abandon, the sounds alone bringing Sebastian to breaking point.

Sebastian tried to reign himself back, but it was too late for that. One final stroke was all it took before he too was lost in the unbelievable pleasure that was Ronald Knox. He claimed those lips once more and kissed him messily through his orgasm, continuing to rock his hips as he rode out every spike of pleasure. As he climbed down from that high seat of madness, Sebastian rested his head on Ronald’s shoulder again and tried to come to his senses.

“You alright there demon?” Ronald said with a breathy little laugh that made Sebastian want to claim him all over again. Sebastian didn’t offer any more of a reply other than to hum against his hot skin. He wanted to stay there. He could have even slept there, standing up in the supplies cupboard, had Ronald not started wriggling in his grip. Sebastian pulled out at last and let Ronald down. He suddenly felt like something drastic was missing from his life.

“Let me clean you up,” Sebastian said. It seemed like the gentlemanly thing to do in this situation, even if his mind still felt foggy from his climax. But Ronald waved him away.

“It’s fine, I was going to bathe now anyway.” He pulled his underwear over the sticky mess, which had Sebastian wincing.

“I wasn’t aware that third class had bathing facilities.”

“They don’t.” Ronald wrinkled his nose, shrugging on his shirt, “I was planning to break into the baths in first class. Don’t dob me in.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Sebastian waited for Ronald to dress. By comparison he had very little to do, save for buttoning up his trousers and retucking his shirt. Ronald caught him watching and cast him a lazy smile, one that Sebastian deliberately tried not to react to.

“Don't worry. We’ll be seeing each other again very soon,” Ronald said, draping his tie around his neck. “Try not to obsess over me in the meantime.”

“I’ve already forgotten you.”

Ronald laughed lightly and stretched onto his toes to kiss Sebastian on the cheek. Even after everything they’d just done that one tiny act of affection caught Sebastian off guard. Creatures like him didn’t deserve such tenderness. It was all wrong.

“You’ll remember me soon enough,” Ronald said lightly. “We’ll see quite a lot of each other the night after next.”

With Ronald fully clothed, and the hallway clear as far as Sebastian could detect, they shuffled out of the cupboard, and bid a final, awkward glance at each other. “The night after next then,” Sebastian said with a nod. Ronald winked, then turned and walked away.

The night after next. Strange that he’d lived so long and yet somehow that seemed so very far away.

Sebastian’s hand drifted absently to his cheek as he watched the reaper vanish around the corner. Still, Sebastian stared after him.

So very far away.

But what could he do except wait?

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #sebastian michaelis #ronald knox #sebron #fanfic #not//sfw

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lightchildofthespring · 5 years ago

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The fantastic adventures of Takeru Takaishi

Chapter 2: Daughter of the revolution

On their way up the hill, Sora reminisced the times when her father took her to play hide-and-seek among the woods. She also remembered the day when she hid in a bush and overheard a group of men approaching Haruhiko. They accused him of having "subversive books" and spreading anti-government propaganda among the good people of Turtle Island. Sora was so scared that she couldn't move. She didn't do anything to stop her father from being taken away.

After her surroundings became quiet, Sora left her hiding spot and ran back to her house. It didn't take long for the little girl to notice smoke rising to the sky. Once she arrived there, she found her house burning.

Sora was about to scream in horror, but she felt a hand cover her mouth and another pull her back to the woods.

"I'm so glad you're safe! I'm so glad!"

Sora recognized her mother's voice. The arms that once restricted her were now hugging the child. The little girl was trembling and it didn't take her long to begin to cry. Toshiko turned her daughter around, so she could face her. The woman's eyes were red; a couple of tear trails were still visible.

"They took Dad! They took him away!" Sora said, among sobs.

"I know," Toshiko muttered.

"Where did they take him?" Sora asked.

New tears formed in the woman's eyes. She didn't say anything. It would take years for Sora to learn that her father was taken by Yamanaka's henchmen and dragged to the living room of her family's house as a way to lure Toshiko and the other revolutionaries to a trap. The henchmen were all armed and largely outnumbered the revolutionaries. It would be a suicide mission to try to rescue Hahuriko. Therefore, their leader decided they shouldn't do it.

Toshiko and the rest of the group survived.

Haruhiko didn't.

For the rest of her life, Sora wished to get justice for her father and revenge against Yamanaka. She cooperated with the revolutionaries but, despite knowing their reasons and understanding that her father wouldn't have wanted to be the cause of their demise, Sora could never forgive the leader of the group for that decision.

Takeru wasn't fond of the silence filling the air as they climbed the hill on the horses. Sora was leading the way, Koushiro and he were in the middle and Yamato was on the back, protecting them. From the way Yamato kept staring at Koushiro's back, Takeru assumed he still considered the stranger a threat.

Since Koushiro was the one closest to him, Takeru decided to start a conversation with that man.

"Tell me, Koushiro, where are you from?"

"I was born on Shrimp Island and lived there until I was 10 years old," Koushiro replied, not looking at Takeru.

"That's pretty close to Turtle Island!" Takeru exclaimed. "I'm not sure why, but you had given me the impression of being from somewhere far away."

"I've travelled all around the world," Koushiro told him. "But I always end up coming back to this place. I like to visit the spot where my parents' house used to be... well, not properly my parents'... the house of the couple who took care of me after..."

Koushiro stopped talking. A sad expression was visible on his face.

Suddenly, Sora stopped her horse and raised one hand, as if giving a signal. Two people carrying shotguns came from both sides of the trail: a woman with purple hair and glasses and a man with spiky dark pink hair. At least, that's what Takeru assumed his hair color to be. The woman had a red and long sleeved shirt over her brown paints; her hair was tied in a ponytail. The man had black pants and a loose blue shirt.

"Daisuke! Miyako! I need to talk to my mother immediately!" Sora told them.

"We're really sorry, Sora, but we can't let strangers into the camp. It's dangerous!" Daisuke said, pointing at Takeru and Koushiro.

"This is my little brother, his name is Takeru," Yamato introduced his brother. "The one with red hair is likely a demon from Hell. You should tie him up."

"A demon?!" Daisuke exclaimed, staring at Koushiro with amazement in his eyes. "Are you an actual demon from Hell? Can you summon Hellfire? Can you eat souls? Are you capable of seeing the future?"

"No, no, no... to tell you the truth, I'm capable of seeing fragments of the future," Koushiro answered, "but that ability is not as useful as it sounds."

"You're a clairvoyant?" Takeru asked, excitedly.

"That kind of thing doesn't exist! It's unscientific! Charlatanism!" Miyako affirmed.

"I'm not a charlatan!" Koushiro stated.

"Don't mind her, Mr. Demon," Daisuke told Koushiro, "she's the local mad scientist and can get a bit carried away sometimes about science."

"Stop shaming me for my love for science, Daisuke!" Miyako shouted. "It's the greatest thing in the world!"

"Enough with this discussion!" Sora raised her voice. "The camp is in great danger! Yamanaka's men are coming to attack us! I must talk to my mother immediately!"

Yamato looked at Sora's trembling body with concern. Despite wanting to comfort her, he knew that interrupting the woman would only make her upset. Meanwhile, Miyako and Daisuke stared at Sora in shock. They didn't remember ever seeing her lose her temper.

"That's not possible!" Miyako stated, after half a minute. "Yamanaka's men don't know where our camp is! They would never find our location, unless someone told them!"

"You can't mean that there's a traitor among us..." Daisuke said.

"I don't know how it's going to happen, but I saw armed men walking up this hill amidst darkness," Koushiro told them. "That's why I warned Miss Sora."

"Why exactly should we believe you, stranger?" Miyako asked. "As far as I can tell, you're nothing more than a charlatan trying to deceive people!"

Koushiro sighed, frustrated.

"Fine, don't believe me! I'm used to that," he said. "Just tie me up already and drag me to the tent where you keep the weird looking mechanical box. I can't wait to see you yelling at the boy with green eyes and short black hair to stop meddling with your invention."

"How do you know all that?" Miyako inquired. Then, a bigger concern took over her mind. "Hold on, Iori is doing what?!"

"I can't waste more time with this!" Sora snapped, making her horse run towards the top of the hill. Yamato followed her on his horse.

"How dramatic!" Takeru murmured to himself. He was about to follow them, but Daisuke pointed the shotgun at him.

"The two of you will have to get down from the horses and let us tie your hands and blindfold you," he said.

"What? But I'm Yamato's brother!" Takeru protested. "Doesn't that make me trustworthy?"

"Well... you're not dressed as someone we could trust," Daisuke told him.

"How dare you? I'm wearing the finest and most expensive clothes you've probably seen in your whole lives!" Takeru was getting exasperated.

"That's precisely the issue!" Miyako was getting angry as well. "Do you understand that we're revolutionaries and you look like someone wealthy?"

"So... does being a revolutionary make you hate people with good taste in clothes?" Takeru asked.

Miyako and Daisuke were left speechless after Takeru's remark, not quite understanding how someone could say something so stupid.

Koushiro got down from the horse and put his hands up. He glanced at Takeru and told him:

"Mr. Takeru, with the due respect, please stop saying things without thinking first."

"W-What are you trying to say?" Takeru asked.

"I think he just called you out for saying something dumb... in a very polite way," Daisuke told him.

Takeru's world was shaken by that affirmation. Dumb? Him? But he was such an educated person! But... what if he was dumb? Had he actually been dumb for his entire life? Did he live a lie for all those years? He felt as if his head was spinning and lost his balance, which made him fall from the horse. Luckily for Takeru, he fell on Koushiro.

Koushiro wasn't very lucky as he was knocked to the ground by Takeru's weight.

"Didn't see that coming, did you, Mr. Psychic Demon?" Miyako mocked.

After that, she and Daisuke proceeded to tie and blindfold the two strangers.

Once Sora arrived at the camp, she jumped from the horse and headed to her mother's tent with large steps. Some revolutionaries, who were sitting on logs and cleaning their weapons, seemed surprised at her sudden arrival, but didn't pay her too much attention.

Yamato arrived right after her. He quickly got down from his horse and ran in Sora's direction.

"Sora, please! What are you going to say to her?" Yamato inquired, putting himself in her front. "You can't expect Leader Toshiko to believe that a demon dug himself out of the dirt and told you about a vision he had! I mean... do we even have any actual reason to believe that guy, anyway?"

"I don't know if he's telling the truth or not, but we can't risk our people's safety!" Sora retorted. "I'm not going to let Yamanaka take anyone away again!"

"Sora, I understand-" Yamato began to say.

"No, you don't! Your whole family is alive, you can't understand!" Sora shouted, pushing him out of her way.

Astonished by her uncharacteristically rude behavior, Yamato was unable to move for a few seconds. Once he recovered, he made his way to the tent in the middle of the camp. Inside it, he found Sora staring down at her mother, who was tending to a flower arrangement on the ground, while kneeling on a pillow. There were several other flower arrangements in the tent, among maps, books and weapons. The woman was wearing dark pants and a white buttoned shirt that gave her an air of elegance.

"You haven't come to see me in a while, Sora. And now, without any warning, you interrupt me while I'm with the flowers..." Toshiko commented.

"There's something more important than your flowers that we must discuss!" Sora told her. "Old man Yamanaka's men are coming to the camp! We have to evacuate!"

Toshiko paled after hearing that. She stood up and approached her daughter. Sora felt uncomfortable under that intense gaze, but didn't look away.

"Who told you that?" Toshiko inquired.

"That's not important!" Sora said.

"The only way for those people to find our location is if there's a traitor among us, which is something I can't bring myself to believe," Toshiko told her. "You'd better give me the source of that information if you expect me to take it seriously."

Sora felt her eyes getting warm and her body trembling. She wasn't surprised that her mother didn't listen to her, but that still hurt.

"Then, you need a reliable source to act to protect the group?" Sora questioned. "If you really cared about anyone, the mere possibility of them being in danger should be enough!"

"Sora, don't disrespect me!" Toshiko scolded her. "I care very deeply about-"

"You didn't even care about Dad!" Sora accused, letting a couple of tears escape her eyes.

Toshiko was taken aback by that. Without uttering a word, she watched as Sora stormed out of the tent, being followed by Yamato. Only when she was alone, she allowed herself to cry, like she had always done ever since the day when she lost her husband.

Out of the tent, Sora stumbled on something and nearly fell. Yamato embraced her from behind just in time. He didn't tell her anything. Yamato knew when Sora needed his words and that wasn't one of those moments. She turned to him and wrapped the man in her arms, burying her face on his shoulder. Yamato kept a hand on her back and caressed her hair with another. He would let her cry as much as she needed.

While Sora and Yamato were with Toshiko, Takeru and Koushiro arrived at the camp, after being guided by Miyako while Daisuke led the horses. Once they arrived, the pieces of fabric covering their eyes were removed. Takeru wasn't impressed by the amount of twenty dirty tents or the small group of people wearing cheap clothes. But what did he know? He was an ignorant, after all! Maybe that was the highest fashion among the revolutionaries and he just wasn't intelligent enough to appreciate it!

"Iori Hida, you better come out at this second or may the Goddess help me!" Miyako called.

A teenager with greens eyes and black hair came out of one of the tents. He was carrying a large mechanical black box, which had several small gears moving on its sides.

"You really are meddling with my invention!" Miyako accused.

"It wasn't working properly," Iori said. "I thought I could fix it if I took a better look-"

"Iori, you shouldn't touch other people's inventions without permission!" Miyako scolded him.

"It's not just your invention! I helped too!" Iori said.

"You just assisted me in the manufacture! I was the one who designed it and named it!" Miyako retorted.

"If it doesn't work, you didn't do a very good job, Miyako," Daisuke remarked.

"Hey, you're the last person that can criticize the Smokenator, Daisuke! You've never invented anything in your life!" Miyako shouted. Then, she grabbed the box and tried to pull it from Iori's hands, but he didn't want to give it to her.

"Stop it! I haven't finished fixing the Night Bringer yet!" Iori said, refusing to let go of the box.

"Stop trying to rename the Smokenator!" Miyako said back, putting more force in her grip.

"I find both of those names silly..." Takeru murmured, "but I'm nothing more than an ignorant simpleton who knows nothing of the world!"

"Mr. Takeru, you don't have to say that about yourself. You're clever!" Koushiro tried to cheer him up.

"You were the one who called me dumb!" Takeru accused.

"I never said that!" Koushiro defended himself. "I simply advised you to think more before saying things. I can tell you by experience that offending the wrong person can lead to terrible consequences. I didn't want you to repeat my mistakes."

"Your mistakes?" Takeru asked. "Are you saying that the reason why you die so much is that you keep saying dumb things to people?"

"I'm not going to deny that many of my deaths are tied to people not appreciating what I had to say... even if I was trying to help them..." Koushiro said in a sad tone. "But before all that, I offended someone very dangerous... in consequence I was cursed with the clairvoyance..."

"Cursed? But that's such a fascinating ability!" Takeru contested.

For a moment, it was as if the light had completely vanished from Koushiro's eyes, as if he had gotten lost in painful thoughts.

"It's not fascinating to see tragedies before they happen..." Koushiro had a cold tone, "it's not fascinating to try everything to stop those tragedies... to save people... and then watching them die anyway... unable to change anything..."

Takeru wasn't sure of what to think after their conversation took such a dark turn. Thankfully for him (but not for anyone else), the sudden eruption of black smoke from the mechanical box Miyako and Iori had been fighting over distracted him from the awkward situation Koushiro had created. The black smoke rose to the sky quickly and began to spread in high speed. Despite being the middle of the day, the darkness befalling them made it seem like night had arrived.

"Iori, what did you do?!" Miyako questioned, letting go of the box.

"Don't act as if I was the only one in fault for this!" Iori stood up for himself.

"The entire island is going to see this smoke!" Daisuke said. "Everybody is going to know our location now!"

"What's going on here?!" Yamato inquired, running in their direction alongside Sora. He saw Iori still holding the box from which the smoke was coming. "Iori, what did you do?!"

"Hey, don't criticize Iori!" Miyako defended the teenager. "A farmer like you can't understand the passion of a scientist!"

Sora hurried to untie Takeru and Koushiro. Right after that, she grabbed the red-haired young man by the shoulders and inquired:

"Is this the 'darkness' you saw? Are Yamanaka's men coming?"

"I think so..." Koushiro murmured.

"You think so?!" Yamato snapped. "Are you a clairvoyant or not?! Give us a straight answer! Tells us what will happen next!"

"I can only see fragments of the future!" Koushiro explained. "I can't control this ability!"

"Brother, leave him alone!" Takeru pleaded. "Koushiro is just trying to help! He might not know everything and not understand the intricacies of certain social rules or why some people don't appreciate fine clothes!"

"Is he still talking about Mr. Demon?" Daisuke wondered.

"But the point is that he's trying his best to help!" Takeru continued. "He might make mistakes and say dumb things sometimes, but he's trying to improve himself and do better! Isn't that worthy something?"

"I think I'm not understanding the context here," Yamato said. "What on Earth happened after I went after Sora?"

"Sora, what happened here?" Toshiko questioned, running in her daughter's direction. "This smoke is giving away our location! The camp can be attacked! Yamanaka's henchmen outnumber us! They have better equipment and more munition! In our current state, we can't outfight them!"

For a moment, Sora wanted to say spiteful things to her mother. But the desperation on Toshiko's face made her hesitate. Her previous words of accusation towards Toshiko, fueled by the pain caused by the loss of her father, seemed cruel and stupid on retrospect. It couldn't be more evident that her mother had always worried about the safety of her people.

"We just need to make sure that everybody escape to the tunnels before they get here," Sora said, letting go of Koushiro and turning to her mother. "Let's reunite our best shooters! I can lead the offensive and buy you enough time-"

"Sora, no!" Toshiko interrupted. "You have to escape too! I will stay back and fight them off!"

"Are you out of your mind?!" Sora questioned. "You'll die if you do that! I have to stay and help you!"

"This is an order, Sora! You'll leave!" Toshiko insisted.

"I'm not going to run!" Sora stated. "I'm not going to turn my back on other people and leave them to die!"

For the first time in many years, Sora saw tears in Toshiko's eyes.

"Back then, the thing that I wanted the most was to save Haruhiko or die trying. But I couldn't do that... and it wasn't just for the sake of the group..." Toshiko told her daughter. "If I had tried to save Haruhiko, both your father and I would've died. And then, you'd be left alone to fend for yourself... those horrible men wouldn't show mercy to a little kid... you might hate me for that decision, Sora. It's alright, I hate myself for it as well. But I don't regret choosing to protect you. I'll keep choosing you above everything and everyone, for as long as I live. So, please, don't throw your life away!"

Sora could feel her eyes getting flooded with tears. She almost didn't recognize the warmth and lightness taking over her heart. They were reminiscent of happier times, when her family was together. Those feelings made her realize that, despite respecting her mother's love for her, she still couldn't abandon the woman. Sora wasn't willing to lose the rest of her family.

"OH MY GODDESS!" Takeru suddenly shouted, startling everybody who was enthralled by the touching moment Sora and Toshiko were sharing. "I JUST HAD THE MOST AMAZING IDEA THAT IS GOING TO SAVE EVERYBODY! IT'S SUCH AN INTELLIGENT PLAN! I'M SO INTELLIGENT! HOW COULD I EVER THINK I WAS DUMB?!"

"Wait, did you seriously just come up with an idea that is going to save everybody?" Miyako asked in a skeptical tone.

"Yes, I did, Miss Mad Scientist!" Takeru interjected, pointing his finger dramatically towards the dark sky. "But before I begin to explain my brilliant plan, tell me, do you have any other interesting invention?"

"Oh! Are you asking me if I have other interesting inventions?" Miyako grinned. "I do! I really do! Just you wait to see them!"

"Now, you're sounding like an evil scientist, Miyako!" Daisuke commented.

"Be quiet, Daisuke!" Miyako retorted.

"Hey, Daisuke!" a young woman with light pink hair approached him. Several other revolutionaries were surrounding the group. "Care to explain what's going on to the rest of us?"

"Honestly, Jun, weren't you paying attention?" Daisuke asked.

"We have been paying attention!" another young woman, with short curly blond hair and glasses, said. "But we still need an explanation! We don't even know who that class traitor claiming to have a brilliant plan is!"

"Who are you calling a class traitor?!" Takeru inquired.

Koushiro found the discussion funny. It felt strange to laugh after such a long time, even if he was trying to muffle it. That heartwarming feeling, however, didn't last long.

He suddenly saw himself in a large living room. In front of him, there was an old skinny man looking through a large window. Through ot, the black smoke covering the hill was visible at the horizon.

"Tell me, Monk..." the old man spoke in a husky voice, "is it really wise to send all my forces after the revolutionaries?"

"I can protect you by myself, you have nothing to worry about."

Koushiro knew that voice too well. In other times, nothing would make him happier than to listen to that person, especially when he was laughing. At that moment, however, all that voice did was to confirm his dreadful suspicions.

"What is a holy man like you doing on Turtle Island?" the old man inquired, turning to his right. There, the person in the monk clothes was leaning against a wall. He was smiling at the other, but that smile wasn't like the ones he used to show Koushiro. There was no shred of joy left on that face. The top of the monk's head was covered by a black hood, but Koushiro could still see some strings of that person's large brown hair coming out.

In those distant times, that person would never hide his hair.

"Well, you know..." the monk smirked, "nothing much... just waiting for an old friend."

His sight began to turn dark, indicating that the vision was ending. Koushiro was once again in the revolutionary camp. Takeru was still discussing something with the revolutionaries, but Koushiro wasn't paying attention anymore. His mind wandered through memories of their last meetings, which all ended with his best friend asking him the same thing:

"Please, stay dead this time."

#the fantastic adventure of Takeru Takaishi #takenouchi toshiko #takeru takaishi #takaishi takeru #izumi koushirou #Koushiro izumi #yamato ishida #ishida yamato #takenouchi sora #sora takenouchi #toshiko takenouchi

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ohblackdiamond · 5 years ago

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the end of the world tour (kiss/endgame crossover, r) (part 4/5)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

In this chapter: Final preparations for visiting Tony Stark, including, in order of importance, paying up to find his location, deciding how to state their case, and determining what outfits to wear.

Or, four washed-up former rockstar superheroes don the spandex of old in a last-ditch effort to save an already half-gone world. They just need a little support from a billionaire who’s not too keen on KISS interrupting his private life. Somewhat Endgame compliant.

“Do you think we’re ready now?”

Paul said it out of nowhere, while they were all lounging in front of the T.V. Well, Gene had his ipad out, if only to fact-check the cast list for the horror movie onscreen. None of them were watching it. Ace had been shuffling in and out of the living room, bringing in popcorn and soda refills, looking a little antsy, but now he was sitting next to Peter, arm draped nonchalantly around his shoulders, feet propped up on a leather ottoman. On the couch opposite theirs, Paul was laying on his back, one ankle resting on his raised knee, occasionally reaching for the popcorn bowl on the floor, with Gene occupying what little room remained. It was comfortable, quiet. It reminded Peter of the rare times on tour that they’d have more than two days off in a row. No, better than that. Serene.

But with that single question, the serenity crumbled. Three pairs of bleary brown eyes were on Paul in an instant. Naturally, Paul started to hesitate, pulling both his knees up.

“I mean, really. We got all our powers back. What do we have left to work on?”

“Besides finding Stark’s location?” Gene set the ipad on the floor. “That’s it.”

“And that shouldn’t take more than a day or two.”

“And about a million dollars,” Gene said dryly. “The man’s wiped himself off the map.”

“So we pay it, that’s fine.” That mild anxiousness was beginning to sink into Paul’s expression. Any minute and he’d be shifting around in his seat like a twitchy grammar school kid. Peter watched, too used to it to feel more than mildly vindicated, as Paul moved to lay on his side, knees still bent. Gene hadn’t yet taken advantage of the extra legroom. “But other than that, we’re done. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m not counting on us, I dunno, waking up faster than a speeding bullet if we do a few more pushups.”

Ace stuffed a handful of popcorn in his mouth before responding.

“We’ve got to chart it out.”

“Chart it out?” Peter echoed. “What, are we sailing?”

“Astrology charts.” Ace took a large gulp of Pepsi. “Figure out what day’s best—I looked into it a little bit, I think the 27th would be good…”

“Are you serious, Ace? Just because that’s your lucky number doesn’t mean there’ll be any difference—” Gene started.

“It’s not just that! I checked all our horoscopes and that’s the only day that’s gonna be positive for all of us at once!” Ace looked aggrieved, stuffing another handful of popcorn in his mouth, chewing as he spoke. “I couldn’t get it positive with Stark, too, so that was the best I could—”

“What sign is he?” Paul asked, distractedly.

“Gemini. Totally incompatible.”

Paul exhaled, brow furrowed. Gene just rolled his eyes. Peter looked over at Ace, for once unsure on whether or not to back him, or if it mattered.

“That’d give us two weeks,” Peter said finally, shrugging. It was probably the most neutral statement he’d made in awhile. Gene shot him a mildly aggrieved look. “It’s fine as long as nobody chickens out and keeps trying to put it off.”

“Nobody’s gonna chicken out, Pete, don’t you worry.” Ace was nodding as he spoke. “I’m gonna check with my tarot reader tomorrow, too, just to make sure.”

“You still go see her?”

“Well, yeah. Though sometimes I’m starting to wonder.”

“What, if she’s stealing your money?”

“No, no, I just think her clairvoyance is getting cataracts or some shit.” Ace shrugged. “She said we were gonna tour again.”

Gene started to laugh. An utterly disgusted look crossed Paul’s face before he pressed half of it against the armrest.

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not kidding! Not in so many words, but she said something about change and great spectacles and crowds, so—”

“The only way I’m going back on tour is if we get sued,” Paul said flatly.

Ace hesitated.

“About that, Paulie…”

God. Peter knew exactly what was next. A whole half-hour round of rambling and shooting the shit, and by the time they all realized how far off-course they’d gotten, no one would even be in the mood to discuss their meeting with Stark. Ace’s ability to delay and distract had gotten way too much practice over the last five years. Luckily, Gene was immune.

“We’ve got other logistics to deal with here,” he said, a little curtly.

“Like what? This ain’t a gig—”

“Are you kidding? Ace, this might be the biggest gig of our lives.” Gene’s voice was as quiet and intense as usual. To Peter, it was a relief. “If Stark knows what really happened—”

“There’s no way that bastard doesn’t. You don’t make that kind of money without your fingers in everybody’s pie,” Peter interrupted. “We’ve been over this.”

“It’s not all about the money. It’s the type of superhero work he did.” Paul had raised his face from the armrest, finally. “I mean, the Avengers were dealing with threats from alien planets. That’s more than we ever did.”

“You think what happened five years ago is on account of aliens, Paul?”

Paul shrugged as much as he could while lying on the couch.

“You piss off a lot of people crimefighting.”

“Like Devereaux.” Peter snorted at the memory, but he kept going. “The guy gets fired and then he decides to make fucking robots of us to destroy the whole amusement park. And we didn’t have anything to do with it!”

“We did a concert at the park,” Paul said dryly.

“But it wasn’t our fault he got canned!”

“Well, no, but…” Gene said, before clearing his throat. He grabbed the remote, turning off the television. “We’re not getting anything done talking about Devereaux. We need to be talking about how to approach Stark.”

“Easy. With an ultimatum,” Ace tried to deadpan, only to ruin it with a laugh.

“With a plan.”

“Okay, okay. First off, what outfits? We’ve gotta coordinate.” Paul, unsurprisingly. Peter could’ve practically done a timeline of Paul’s recovery over the last five years by how much interest he showed in what he looked like. The first morning Paul had come downstairs for breakfast both shaved and dressed in something that wasn’t pajama bottoms or jeans was the morning Peter knew he wouldn’t be stuck living with a corpse that vaguely resembled KISS’ frontman.

“I dunno. Whatever we go with, I’ll still be sweating,” Ace said. “None of them are comfortable.”

“Mine are comfortable—”

“That’s ’cause yours don’t usually have a top, Paul.”

“We could do suits,” Gene offered halfheartedly. Despite his earlier complaint, Ace looked mildly appalled at the suggestion.

“No suits. I dunno if Stark’s old enough to remember the Dressed to Kill album cover,” Ace said. “He’ll think we’re trying to negotiate a business deal.”

“We are.”

“Y’know what I mean, Gene. No go.”

“Then what tour?”

“Anything but Dynasty. I’m not dragging around that green fucking shag carpet again,” Peter said.

“I loved Dynasty. We were wearing actual colors.”

“Black and silver are actual colors, Paul.”

“What about Love Gun? Fairly easy outfits to move around in, cohesive… lots of nostalgia for a Generation Xer like Stark…” Gene trailed. Ace nodded.

“I like it. Yeah.”

The next day, Gene made about a dozen calls and moved half a million dollars out of a Swiss bank, while Paul got out his checkbook, looking markedly less blasé about shelling out the money than he had when it was only a point of discussion. Peter was determined not to let the hangdog expressions on both their faces compel him to donate (“the man’s location ain’t worth forty bucks, and you know it”), but Ace, yanking out his own wallet with the affability of an old gambler, shamed him into it with a single sentence.

“It’s only paper, Cat.”

So half an hour later, once Ace had wandered off for his tarot reading appointment, Peter wrote out a check for thirty grand. Every step towards Gene’s office—really just a rolltop desk and a rolly chair conveniently parked outside the kitchen—felt like slogging around in mud. The last time he’d given Gene any money, he—no, wait, he’d never given Gene any money. Unless he counted licensing. He was trying not to count licensing.

As soon as Peter walked in, Gene spun around in his chair to face him. Peter held up the check, feeling like he was fleecing himself out of part of his own retirement. That old glint in Gene’s eye was there almost immediately, and he didn’t hesitate, taking the check as soon as Peter offered it.

“Is that a reimbursement?”

“It’s a payment, asshole. Don’t make me change my mind.”

“You didn’t make it out to anyone.”

Peter snatched the check back and wrote “Gene Simmons” in capital letters across the for line.

“There. Just put it towards finding that bastard, that’s all I care about.” He paused. “How much did Ace give you?”

“More than you did.”

Peter groaned.

“And you let him? Gene, you know he blew all his Reunion money as soon as he made it—and he never did earn that much off his solo albums. Don’t let him bullshit you, he ain’t got more than a million, I’d be surprised if he’s got half that—”

“He wanted to help out.”

“Don’t bankrupt him over this shit, Gene.”

“I’m putting half of it back in his account.” A pause. “But—now correct me if I’m wrong, Pete, but you’re a little more, ah, fiscally responsible, on average—”

“If you put half mine back, I’m moving out. I’m serious. I’m not having you and Paul hang who paid what over my head if this works.”

“All right, fine, fine.” Gene folded the check and stuck it in his pocket.

“I mean it, Gene, I watch my bank account.”

“Spoken like a true divorcé,” Paul called out from the kitchen. The usual tinny crack to his voice when he spoke much above normal volume wasn’t there yet. Peter scowled.

“I didn’t spend half as much on either of mine as you did—"

“I told you both to do prenups,” Gene interrupted. Peter shot him a put-out look, while Paul kept yelling out from the kitchen.

“I tried! Pam started crying when I suggested it!”

“Yeah, that should’ve been your first indication.” Gene was biting back a laugh. Peter elbowed him. “Anyway, I’ll go get everybody’s checks deposited and—”

“You can do that online,” Paul said, only half-audible over the sound of the egg beaters. Whatever he was in the process of baking, Peter didn’t hold too much hope for.

“What?”

“Just take a couple pictures of the checks and you can do it online.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You don’t gotta go over there anymore.”

Gene looked at Peter. Peter shrugged.

“First I’ve heard of it. I dunno.”

“Huh.” Gene’s forehead furrowed, and he called back out to Paul. “Front and back of the check?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t really trust that,” Peter mumbled, watching as Gene took the checks out of his pocket, spreading them on the desk (Peter noted, almost wryly, that Paul had failed to add the obligatory star to his signature. Ace, though, had doodled his usual card, strange as it looked next to “Paul Frehley”) before pulling his phone out. “I bet nobody’s looking at the damn pictures.”

“Hang on.” Gene’s lips were pursed in concentration. “Shit, I forgot my password.”

The din of the eggbeaters ceased, a put-out sigh coming from the kitchen. A few seconds later and Paul was in the office with them, leaning over Gene’s phone.

“Which account is it again?”

“The, uh, local one.”

Another sigh. Paul typed something in and handed the phone back.

“There. You’re in now.”

“Thanks.” Gene fidgeted, smoothing out the checks again before starting to take the pictures. Peter stared at both of them.

“You’ve got the passwords to his bank accounts.”

“Well, yeah, he never remembers.”

“Are you sure you’re not married?”

Gene’s head shot up immediately, caught expression written all over his face. Paul gave Peter that wide-eyed, innocently baffled stare that had stopped being attractive somewhere around the second term of the Clinton administration. Only it quit being baffled and sunk right over to embarrassed within half a second, Paul’s gaze drooping to the desk. Peter ignored the hint and kept staring.

“Well?”

“I’ve got to check on that meringue,” Paul said suddenly, and slunk out of the room.

Two hours and three-quarters of a million dollars later, Gene had Tony Stark’s location pinpointed, coordinate by exhausting coordinate. Ace confirmed, once they’d punched those coordinates into google maps, that he could teleport them there, no problem. Pretty disgusting, really. It turned out that the guy hadn’t even left New York.

Ace also confirmed that his tarot reader had told him the 27th was a perfectly viable day for any and all world-saving plans. Not a surprise. Even if Ace wasn’t much more than a millionaire, if that, Peter figured she was still probably getting paid way too much to argue him over dates.

And so that was it. That was really it. The last real chink in their plan, resolved. All over but the enacting. Sitting around the kitchen, eating the chocolate pie Paul had whipped up earlier (he’d overbeat the meringue on top), it felt—weird. Back on the precipice of something grand and great and terrifying. Just spinning their wheels. Just waiting.

Gene reached for another piece of chocolate pie. Paul leaned over and cut it for him, neatly setting it on his plate.

“Thirteen days, boys,” Gene said through a mouthful of meringue. “Thirteen days and we’ll save the world.”

“Hopefully,” Paul corrected.

“No hopefully. We’ll save it.” Gene’s self-assurance was usually more frustrating than bolstering. But right now, Peter appreciated it. “We’re in the best shape we’ve ever been in—”

Beside Peter, Ace burst into laughter.

“Well, I mean, in costume—in costume we’re untouchable,” Gene corrected. “Stark’s an intelligent man. He’ll recognize what an asset we are.”

“Gene, saying Stark’s an intelligent man is like saying Genghis Khan was a pretty good warlord.” Paul shifted, and Peter watched, mildly surprised, as he got another piece of pie for himself. Usually, the guy ate less the more stressed he was. “But I don’t think it’s gonna be a problem getting him on our side.”

Peter felt himself nod.

“We got a lot going for us.”

“We need to talk approach, though.” Gene looked pensive. Peter tilted his head. Across from him, Paul mumbled “oh, boy” under his breath. “No, I’m serious. Coming to his house in costume is ballsy, but the message is what’ll really get us in.”

“What do you wanna do, Geno? Ask him whose dick you have to suck to get in on the world-saving gig?” Ace asked blithely.

“I can’t believe you remember me saying that,” Gene said.

“I don’t. But I had to do research for my memoir.” The corners of Ace’s mouth tilted up. “I get that it’s serious, but—”

“It is serious. That’s why I need to do the talking.”

“Oh, come the hell on, Gene—”

“Paul, I’ve met him. I’ve had dinner with him. I think that’ll give us some extra leverage—”

“What, you think the rest of us are just gonna make asses of ourselves?”

“Absolutely.”

“Gene!”

“Paul, c’mon. You’ll be snotty, Pete’ll get pissed, and Ace’ll tell him about Jendell. You all need to leave the talking to me.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” Peter said it before Paul could. He could feel Paul’s glance on him, approving for the first time in years. Ace’s, too. “We’re not going to be sitting on our asses while you try to schmooze up Stark.”

“Then—”

“I think we’ve got to just be honest with him,” Ace said. “We don’t need to bust out the resume. ’S not big enough to be all that impressive anyway. Just tell him we wanna help.”

“You think it’s that simple?”

“Yeah, I think it’s that simple.” Ace was tugging his fork along his plate, scraping up the tiniest remnants of his piece of chocolate pie. Peter, sighing, cut another piece for him, dropping it on his plate. “The Avengers don’t get a lot of volunteers.”

“Do you think we ought to…” Paul trailed, wiping off his mouth as he spoke. “Try an emotional appeal. Would that work on him?”

“Would it work on you?” Gene asked.

“If Tony had tits, it would.”

“Then that’s a no.”

“Hold on. What kind of emotional appeal are you talking, Paul?” Peter asked.

Paul looked a little surprised Peter was pushing for more when Gene had just shut him down.

“Like Ace said, be honest. Tell him we lost out on everything. We could even tell him about our work with FER.”

Peter barely managed not to roll his eyes at Paul qualifying those fifty-three pregnancies as work. Gene had finished his second piece of pie, and Paul was pushing what was left of his own towards him on automatic.

“The only trouble with that is, he’s heard it before,” Gene said. “He’s donated millions to the government to clean up after what happened. There’s probably thousands of charity organizations sending him orphans to sponsor.”

“But he hasn’t heard it from us.” Paul’s lips were slightly pursed. “You’re right, it may not make much of a difference. But Stark does know who we are.”

“Everyone knows who we are,” Gene countered.

“No, Gene, it—it means something to him. He’s just old enough that he remembers when we were superheroes.”

Peter wiped his mouth off with a napkin.

“Remember how they billed us, starting out?” Paul pushed.

“Sure,” Peter said. “The seventies’ answer to Captain America.”

“Then we ended up the Me Generation’s answer to Captain America,” Ace added dryly.

“And Stark’s old man was big buddies with—”

“Captain America.” Gene nodded, expression brightening. “He would’ve had to have been very well aware of us—”

“Exactly. Gene, did Stark ever tell you anything, when you met him? Did he say he’d been to KISS concerts?”

“I don’t remember. He might have.” Gene scooped up more of Paul’s piece of pie, taking a bite as he spoke. Same rotten table manners as ever, but Peter had long since stopped minding. “I’ve only seen him at a few functions. He never struck me as a fanboy.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s not one,” Paul countered. “There are a lot of fans out there still that don’t advertise it.”

“If it turns out Stark’s got a KISS cave in one of his mansions, I gotta say I ain’t buying the playboy bit out of him,” Ace said.

“I think he got married. But look, just—we’ve got to use whatever we can to our advantage. Even if we’re still playing on nostalgia.”

Peter nodded in agreement. Ace reached over, snagging the last piece of pie before Gene’s fork could reach it, and smiled.

Over the next twelve days, everyone was filled with nervous energy. It seemed to almost ping-pong back and forth between them, the bond getting strong enough that Peter was finally starting to distinguish between the rest of the guys’ feelings, instead of it all being an indiscernible lump of emotions. He’d never been great at it. Paul was easiest to tell apart from the rest, probably because he was so anxious naturally, ribbony swaths of mauve and purple in his mind’s eye. Gene and Ace were always a little less defined. Peter was worried about Ace in particular. The deep blue field of feelings, like an oddly starless sky, seemed—deeper, like there was something beneath the surface. He’d mentioned it a bit, late at night in bed, but Ace always brushed it off. Peter, figuring Ace was just afraid their discussion with Stark would all go wrong, hadn’t pushed him too hard about it. If he wanted to talk about it, he’d say so.

They had just finished one last workout and were lying around on the couches, transformed back to normal but still sweaty. Ace had gotten everyone water bottles from the fridge; Paul had deigned to pass out towels, and they’d all ended up pouring the water on the towels and wiping off their faces with it, too tired to bother with proper showers yet. Gene was self-assured to the point of cockiness, the red tendrils of emotion creeping into Peter’s subconscious like infiltrating vines.

“Almost there. Tomorrow’s the day.”

Paul, who had his legs propped on Gene’s lap on the couch, but still looked strained, nodded in assent.

“You nervous?”

“I’m dosing up on Xanax before we leave.”

“Paul, c’mon,” Gene said, and then he looked over at Peter and Ace. “You’re ready, aren’t you?”

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Peter said dryly. Ace offered a thumbs-up.

“You’re killing me. Where’s Bill when you need him?” Gene shook his head. “Don’t be so damn worried about how things are gonna go. I can feel it from here.”

It was hard not to be worried. They hadn’t discussed what they’d do if Tony Stark turned them down, if there was no way they could fix their world. It had been easy to say they had nothing to lose when their powers had been in terrible shape and teaming up with the Avengers was just an idea to reach for. But now, powers restored, less than twenty-four hours from being face-to-face with Stark… it was different. It was wracking. And Gene was trying to take over the job of every manager they’d ever had, and pump them up like they were back on tour.

“C’mon, boys. The last thing that stopped KISS was a concept album.”

Ace’s mouth started to twitch up at his words. Noticing it, Gene shot him a broad smile and continued.

“We’ve talked what we’re gonna say and do tomorrow to death. Let’s look past that.”

“Look past that?” Peter repeated.

“Yeah. Let’s go around the room and talk about what we’ll do after.”

“Well, after we’ll either go home or end up in that Avengers tower,” Paul said dryly. Gene poked his leg.

“After we succeed, Paul. After we get him on our side and save the world. What’s next on our agenda?”

“I still gotta take you guys to Jendell,” Ace said.

“Yeah, but besides that. C’mon. True story time. Let’s all come out with it, all around the room.” Gene’s boisterousness was the exact opposite of infectious, each bandmate glancing nervously at the others, but he didn’t seem deterred. “Do I have any volunteers? Paul?”

“I, uh…”

“Go ahead. What’s the first thing you’re going to do after we save the world?”

“Probably have sex with my wife.”

Gene’s expression shifted into a wide grin.

“Me, too. Peter?”

“… Probably just kiss my wife.”

“Aw, Petey, just let Gigi touch your tits some and you’ll be able to get it back up—”

“Oh, shut up, Ace—”

“What’re you going to do, Ace? Rachael?”

“I dunno.” Ace was gnawing at his bottom lip, teeth sliding up and down the skin. “I think… I think I wanna try to patch things up with Jeanette.”

“Really?” Peter blinked. “You haven’t even lived together in at least twenty years.”

“I know. I know that. But we never got divorced. Her health’s been real bad, I didn’t wanna do that to her. And me and Rach… I dunno. Rach helped me get clean. Jeanette could’ve, too, if I’d let her.”

Peter didn’t know how to answer that. Oh, there were all the old sayings he half-remembered from his own rehab stint, how an addict, any addict, could have the best support team in the world behind him and it wouldn’t matter until he wanted to change, but none of that felt right. None of that felt meaningful.

“But you guys helped me stay that way,” Ace finished off. “So I guess on that basis if you wanna go all-in on a four way marriage, then—”

“No,” Gene said flatly. “One partner’s expensive enough.”

“Aww, been breaking my heart for over forty years, Geno,” Ace lilted, licking his lips, smirk spreading across his face. “’N’ I just keep coming back. Glutton for punishment, man. How the fuck do you do it?”

Gene just snorted, but he was starting to smile. Next to him, Paul shifted awkwardly.

“Don’t say it, Paulie. I know you’ve got the rings on backorder at Kay’s—”

“Kay’s? Don’t insult me like that!”

“Okay, okay, so you went to Tiffany’s. Get your lamps and your engagement rings at the same time, good deal.”

“Damn it, Ace, I just wanna—”

“I’m staying out of this,” Peter mumbled, starting to get up, only for Ace to grab him by the arm and tug him back to the couch, cackling.

“You’re way too late for that one, Cat. When was it, ’95…”

“I just wanted to ask if anyone wanted to jam downstairs!” Paul burst out.

“Jam?”

They hadn’t had a jam session since before Paul and Gene had gotten out the talismans for their ridiculous FER liaisons.

Peter remembered the first session they’d done. Maybe three, four months after moving into New Haven properly, after Gene had taken care of—or had someone else take care of—closing deals on all four of their houses. Moving everyone’s personal memorabilia, everything from gold and platinum albums to old costumes to stupid, useless shit like newspaper clippings and black-and-white passport photos, into storage units. Most of the stuff they’d wanted at home got boxed up and put either in the attic or downstairs, instruments included.

Peter had found himself in the basement, looking for something still in storage. An old corduroy coat of Lydia’s. One he’d about begged off her boyfriend a month or two after the blip. He knew he didn’t have a right to it forty years out, but he could smell the faint traces of her perfume on the fabric, could see that old greasepaint smear on the corner of one sleeve, from when she’d cupped his face in her hands for a kiss after a show. He’d been so desperate to grasp at anything of hers, any reminder she’d ever been real and ever been his. Gigi, too, only he had her things, almost twenty years’ worth. Her dress from their wedding, her name tattooed on his shoulder. He’d had nothing of Lydia’s.

He never found that coat again, no matter how much he searched the basement. Instead Peter had found Gene’s old bass, the one Gene had given him after he’d been fired from the band for the first time, that old memento. Even when he’d gotten down to his last few grand, back in the early nineties, he’d held onto that bass. It was out of tune now, badly, but Peter had kept strumming at it until he heard Ace wandering down the stairs, then watched him step into the basement. Ace hadn’t even blinked at the sight of Peter with the bass.

“You wanna play something?”

“No, it’s—”

“C’mon.”

And somehow they’d both lugged Peter’s old drumkit out of storage, and one of Ace’s Les Pauls, and before long they were playing again. Couldn’t do much with a two-piece band. Ace had gone all in on “Parasite;” Peter had started “Strange Ways,” and halfway through the chorus, Paul had come in. Peter had bristled, expecting Paul to tell them to can it, but Paul had just watched quietly, leaning against the door like he thought he still looked cool. Not realizing that he only looked like a little kid hoping he wouldn’t get picked last for baseball.

Ace had waved him over with a jerk of his thumb. Paul had dug around awhile in the storage room before picking out one of probably two or three guitars he had in there, tuning it, anxious look on his face. The three of them finished up on “Strange Ways,” and then Peter’s gaze had gone to Paul, waiting, out of long-ago habit, for the next suggestion. Paul took awhile to make one.

“‘Hard Luck Woman,’” Paul had said finally.

“You don’t wanna sing?” Peter had asked, unthinking. Paul looked away, and Ace just plowed into the intro in attempt to save Paul some face. But Peter didn’t pick up his sticks, deliberately missing his cue to sing.

“Pete, just go ahead, would you?” Paul had said, voice quiet. “Just go ahead. I want to hear you.”

“I wanna hear you.”

By the time Gene came downstairs, Ace and Peter had coaxed Paul into starting on the first verse of “Strutter,” each note weak but true. Gene hadn’t even hesitated, strapping on his bass like a minuteman attaching his bayonet, adding that last piece to their ensemble.

That night, they’d been tight. Tighter than they’d been in so many years, feeding off each other’s playing in—in almost a round. Not weaving in and out seamlessly like Keith Richards and Ronnie Wood—KISS just wasn’t that good, and never had been—but it felt better than comfortable. It felt fulfilling. Looking back, Peter realized that night had been the start of that old connection between the four of them beginning to mend.

That session had been the best by far. The jam sessions after were a mixed bag. Oh, they’d all start out well enough, charging through the old setlist staples like “Black Diamond” and “Detroit Rock City” at an insistent, heady pace, but then, inevitably, things would fall apart. Peter’s arms would go from just throbbing to straight-up murdering him, Ace’s encroaching deafness would get in the way of his ability to follow Peter’s tempo, and Paul’s voice would start cracking to the point he’d just quit singing entirely and glare at the others as if daring them to utter a single word.

Gene was the only one who didn’t really falter much—until they got to any actual jams, at least. Then he was dead in the water. If it hadn’t been on at least the last ten setlists, it wasn’t a song Gene actually remembered. Peter had found that out the hard way when he’d suggested a rendition of “Mainline,” only to garner a blank-faced Gene and an off-kilter but trying Ace and Paul for his troubles. The bassline not being the most important factor in that song didn’t ease Peter’s irritation any. Not given that Peter had done the lead vocals.

“Wait, you really want to jam, Paul?” Gene asked. He looked a little baffled. Paul would go along with jam sessions, but he’d never been the one to suggest them before. Too embarrassed about the state of his vocals. It was like the guy honestly expected to be made fun of. Maybe once, five years ago, Peter would have, seeing it as karma for how Paul had treated him during the Reunion. But not now. Not ever.

“Well, yeah. Get some of the nervous energy out before we go to Stark’s.” Paul shrugged. “Look, if you guys don’t want to, it’s fine, I just thought…”

“Let’s do it.” It was Ace, in all his weirdly lazy affability. But his eyes were bright and focused. “Dress rehearsal before the performance. It’s good luck.”

“It’s good luck to have a bad dress rehearsal, Ace,” Gene corrected, though he was nodding. “Pete, you want to?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m game.”

“Cool.” Paul visibly relaxed. The purple ribbons in the corner of Peter's mind seemed to lighten. Ease. “C’mon.”

#kiss the band #kiss fanfiction #peter criss #ace frehley #paul stanley #gene simmons #gene simmons x paul stanley #ace frehley x peter criss

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silver-lily-louise · 5 years ago

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Shadowhunters Rewatch! Episode 1x02: The Descent into Hell isn’t Easy

- The descent into hell isn’t easy but it’s easiER when you have cramps and there’s a plumber opposite your bedroom again lmao Let’s do this

- Damn Jace no need to be RUDE

- I really love the dilapidated church cover thing btw

- See the tech was something that bothered my sister about the series, she preferred the more medieval feel of the first book and movie. Personally I love it lmao but then again I’m more of a sci fi nerd than her

- I totally forgot the misinformation thing they did after the revolt ew. What kind of coverup bullshit

- Lol early Sizzy moment #godbless

- I feel like this whole ‘runes on the floor will kill mundanes’ thing is underutilised in the future… may have to use it in a fic lol

- HA I forgot they made Izzy’s lack of cooking skills show-canon as well lol

- Additionally Alec’s character development is very interesting to me in a ‘wtf did Magnus see in s1 Alec’ kind of way, so I’m starting a separate list to try and track his motivations and biases and stances to see how they shift. Probably gonna do the same thing for Maryse bc I buy her redemption but I can’t quite pinpoint WHY I do (except my favourite thing is when people are nice to Magnus lmao)

- OH LOOK IT’S HODGE. FUCK U HODGE (ahem. Moving on)

- (Main shadowhunter squad looking around their parents) Isn’t there ANYONE HERE WHO WASN’T A FUCKING TERRORIST??? (Shh Louise we only know Jocelyn and Luke so far)

- Clary I get that you feel bad but apologising once was enough, Hodge is a big boy who can make his own decisions lol

- ‘What is a GI Joe’ lmao

- ‘No training and no plan gets you killed’ I think that’s interesting, because it speaks to Jace’s idea that as long as he trains hard enough and have a plan, things’ll work out.

- I thought it was pretty cold of Clary to seriously consider Jace’s ‘what if Dot is working for Valentine’ point, but then again LUKE has turned on her as far as she knows so I guess that’s a reasonable amount of suspicion

- Izzy looks so proud of herself aw bless

- ‘Jace is the ultimate protector’ oh no oh help I’m having smol-boy-Jace-Wayland-carving-himself-an-identity feelings

- I just noticed the runes drifting in the background of the UI all Matrix-style lol. Can u believe Shadowhunters tried to tell us that WARLOCKS were the #extra ones lmao

- ‘A little too much in my opinion’ imagine thinking Izzy is straight lol couldn’t be me

- ‘He’s in good hands with the boys’ oh POOR Simon XD

- LOOK at the connection between these two. I’m love them. Can u believe they were already kindred souls BEFORE becoming parabatai, truly beautiful

- oKAY canon divergence I want::: Simon leaving without a hitch, googling how to kill demons and FIGURING IT OUT. He comes back for Clary and now the gang have this mundane demon-killer on side lol, and Alec’s all like ‘he’s a fucking MUNDANE he can’t be here in Shadowhunter business learning secrets and getting himself killed’ and Izzy’s like ‘he killed four demons wtf you worried about bro???’

- Seelie scouts??? The Clave really will make a show of unity when it suits them huh

- They were KIDDING about the floor runes are you KIDDING me XD I figured it was just a continuity problem lmao (also I know they’re being dickheads but that little smirk between Jace and Alec is maybe the first time we properly see them as a brotherly team aha)

- Okay but with hindsight you can really tell this whole cold demeanour ISN’T Magnus. His mannerisms are SCREAMING ‘coping mechanism in a time of crisis’ rn

- That being said if Dot’s magic is dangerously low I bet he regretted leaving her behind alone and vulnerable, she’s a grown woman who can make her own choices but it’s kiiiind of a dick move especially since he entreated her with sarcasm instead of earnestness to try and convince her to come with

- It continues to be exceedingly funny that Pandemonium is never mentioned outside of S1, when it’s painted almost as Magnus’ MAIN job in that. I mean it kind of makes sense that we see his public face in this beginning and his more personal details later on – the warlock stuff, the clients and politics that are more ‘core’ to his job and identity – but still. Not even MENTIONED, I don’t think. XD

- All of them stepping out of the van… Scooby Doo vibes lol WHERE is my mystery-solving AU with these five???? Do I have to write all of my unvoiced fanfic ideas myself??? Unbelievable

- Clary talking about the void she felt… I’m not crying about 3x22 you are

- ‘Wasteful warlock life’ Valentine. My dude. She has CENTURIES to learn and love and travel and experience, and you’re wasting your handful of decades on racism But go off I guess lmao (loser)

- I know the liquid is bad but also there is a HUGE bubble in that syringe. Valentine how is she gonna be useful to you after a mahoosive stroke

- Random shot of the moon. I mean I love her but WHAT ‘Look it’s night-time!!!! Spooooooky!!!!’ XD

- Okay Izzy is halfway-smitten, lbr. She and Simon fit so well okay

- ‘I can’t be here anymore’ Listen s1 Alec is a serious, grumpy lil shit but he DOES have a sense of humour okay

- Jace LET THEM HUG :C

- ‘We carry it to remind us that light can be found in even the darkest of places’ Jace stfu it’s a TORCH X’D (Like, no disrespect to traditions in general, but that one just SMACKS of Clave Sanctimony lol, and by Jace’s next line he knows that aha)

- …Is Nephilim the dative??? I need to look that up lol. Also think it’s funny that Hell (in its various realms) is the one place Shadowhunters CAN’T go, re 3x21

- ‘You assume I have feelings’ Jace. Bro. You are perhaps the CRYINGEST CRIER IN THIS SHOW. Let go of the toxic masculinity friend, you’re gonna be nicer once you do <3

- I’m revisiting my earlier point: WHY ARE LITERALLY ALL OF THE PARENTS CIRCLE MEMBERS LMAO

- ‘No more I’m sorries, you’re a Shadowhunter now’ YIKES if that don’t say it all about Shadowhunter hubris lmao. Apologies are good and necessary <3

- RECOGNISED THE CLAIRVOYANCE RUNE, HIGHKEY PROUD OF MYSELF AHA

- Think how much less beautiful and adorable the Malec wedding would have been if Brother Zachariah looked like this kind of Coraline experiment gone wrong lmao

- I’m not always a fan of a flashback but that ‘you’re strong enough’ one definitely makes it seem less like Clary’s just being reckless aha

- ‘It’ ALEC STOP BEING SUCH A RUDE BITCH. Also I do love Sizzy but I definitely think Izzy needed to be in a less defensive position when they got together (re ‘he passes the time’, I don’t ACTUALLY care I’m just a heartbreaker out for a good time), I’m kind of glad they waited until her caring side had been more nourished instead of stifled

- SIMON. YOU SAID YOU HAVE SEEN HORROR MOVIES. WHY DID YOU PUT HEADPHONES ON

- ‘The night children have broken no laws’ Wait, so kidnapping a Mundane ISN’T against the law??? I mean I get Shadowhunters not being able to KILL them for it - …oh. OH. HANG ON. Are the Accords just to stop Shadowhunters KILLING Downworlders for the smallest of crimes???? Does Raphael mean ‘kidnapping no longer constitutes a capital punishment (like it did before)’??? Either this is a script issue (bc if Shadowhunters protect Mundanes, kidnapping one SHOULD be against the law) or a hint of just how fucked up the Accords are, that ‘the law’ isn’t the law how WE understand it but instead ‘things which are still valid excuses to severely punish Downworlders, when we used to do so willy-nilly’ :S

- Season tagline: ‘Everybody wants that damn cup!’ Valentine wants it to wield it, the Clave wants it APPARENTLY to protect people from Valentine, Luke hinted that the werewolves want it, now the vampires…. Damn.

This one gets an 8/10 for enjoyment – I’m having fun! – and actually a 7/10 for quality. Not NEARLY as many script issues and cringe factors as in the first ep lol. Thanks for reading. ^^

#louise rewatches shs #rambling on #long post

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telesthisia · 5 years ago

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(No reblogs! Make a new post please!)

|| The Basics ||

Name: Zelda of Hyrule Nickname(s): Zel, Zellie, Elle, Ellie Age: 19 Species: Human or well Hylian

|| Personal ||

Religious Belief: The three golden goddess + Hylia but... she’s known as the forgotten goddess in her timeline since certain legends faded away from the public’s knowledge but not at all the royal family’s. Sins: Lust / Greed / Gluttony / Sloth / Pride / Envy / Wrath Virtues: Chastity / Charity / Diligence / Humility / Kindness / Patience /Justice Primary Goals In Life: To create a brighter future for her people for generations on end, leading to the eventually famed Golden Age before the Hero of Time’s downfall... though Hyrule has recovered once she’s born there are still remnants of ruin from that era as such she wants to protect her people as well as make Hyrule safer, while she doesn’t do it within her lifetime because limited lifespan her dream does still come true years later aka LOZ and LOZ 2 don’t be fooled by the plot, Hyrule was in its prime during those games! Languages Known: Hylian Secrets: Well... it’s no secret among her staff but outside the castle, she keeps her poor health (heart condition and undiagnosed rare anemia problem) and near lack of magical stamina a secret since that can put her at a pretty bad disadvantage. She has plenty of enemies, namely those who align themselves with Ganon and the resurrection of him is still possible provided the person is a powerful mage with knowledge of doing that sort of stuff in the first place. And then there’s also court drama she has to worry about but that’s for another long lengthy headcanon post I should have out... soon... ish. Also while obvious with partners and in a meta sense and if you’re super observant but her guise Elle is, in fact, her, the princess of Hyrule so... ye... Quirks: Her birthmark of the Triforce is... certainly unique. But if we’re talking mannerism rather than physical then allow me to just ramble because hoo boy! When nervous or worked up, she often tucks her stray hairs behind her ears, even when she’s not feeling those emotions she’s always fiddling around with it (in her royal wear) often flipping it out of her face or trying to make it look a little neater. She has the Pendant of Courage, a gift from Link and often clutches on it when she feels the need to summon her courage if she’s feeling not that brave, often trying to recall Link’s courage during his many adventures. When using any of her PSI powers she tends to have a nose bleed, as such, she often carries around a handkerchief and tries to cover it up before going off somewhere to stop the bleeding. When laughing, she likes to hold her smile behind her hand... and when yawning she tries to cover her mouth. SHE IS THE WORST COOK TO EVER EXIST holy crap but can make mean cookies. When flirting (more like embarrassed flirting pft) she looks away to the side and twirls her hair around her finger trying to hide her red cheeks. Her romantic out view on life stems from the fact that she was constantly surrounded by death and history and art so there’s morbid beauty in the melancholy... this girl gets excited over Friday the 13th and samhain ok like... there’s a lot to unpack with that. THERE’S MORE BUT I’VE RAMBLED FAR ENOUGH!!! Savvies: Well... she bakes pretty good cookies BUT UH!!! YEAH she’s pretty proficient with her light magic! While she can’t do the amazing things other Zeldas can do because of limitations she’s not someone you would want to mess around with. She’s learned to work around those limitations and has great control over her powers. On top of that, she somehow knows how to use a crossbow so :’) while not the light arrows (she’s too weak to wield a bow) and it was a lucky shot she at least knows enough about how it works to fire it in the first place. She reads a lot, even as a kid she’d sneak off to the library to read the history about Hyrule or read maps and well she’s pretty knowledgable about her nation as a whole! And thanks to sneaking out she knows how to sneak past the guards and knows all of the secret passages in her castle like the back of her hand! Can’t forget her amazing political insight and ability to think outside the box! She has pretty innovative ideas for her times esp when concerning the common folk, but sometimes they don’t always go through because well... nobles.

|| Physical ||

Height: 5′0″ Weight: you never ask a lady her weight! >:0 Scars/Birthmarks: Has a cat scratch scar on her right palm which is also where the triforce is located! Abilities/Powers: Light magic, as the descendant of the mortal goddess she has been blessed with the Light Force. On top of that she’s come from a line of sages and has the Triforce of Wisdom so as you expect she has so much magic. She can heal, bless your weapons, smite away darkness, sense darkness (As a matter of fact she’s pretty sensitive to it and it makes her lowkey sick if it’s too much) and then there’s her PSI abilities which includes clairvoyance and telepathy! And then... her connection to the spirit realm. Restrictions: AHAHAHA SO MUCH, she’s a glass cannon which is why she’s so, so, so easy to kidnap in the first place. She may put up a fight but not for long, as such her tactics are always to make a distraction and then escape. But she has poor stamina and just a poor heart, she can’t really overexert herself without a) causing pain and b) passing the hell out which was common in her younger days. Using magic takes up a lot of stamina as shown in ALTTP esp with the more powerful spells, you need an amazing reserve to cast all of that and sadly while she has good control she doesn’t have good reserves. SOOOOOOO to fix this she always has to take medicine of magic. Mana blockage is a thing that can happen, more often than she’d like to admit which causes pain once again and makes using magic pretty hard. Now onto her telepathy and clairvoyance. While they sound useful there are restrictions on those as well, for one with telepathy while she can contact anyone so long as she finds their signature subconscious she doesn’t have to worry about distance too much so long as they are within her range which is... maybe more than 200 meters? I need to think about the range more because there are certain places where she can reach you and cannot but there’s def a range limit. She tends to get nosebleeds and headaches from using telepathy. Her clairvoyance is where she can see bits of the future, but they are very vague and hard to decipher and there’s always a chance of the future changing or not changing. As for her connection to the spirit realm, pretty much she can see dead people... in her dreams and there’s no way of shutting this power off she’s gotta deal with the horrors that is this realm. Now seeing spirits isn’t anything new in LOZ but contact to the spirit realm is something that’s implied that only royal family members can do... as implied by Zelda’s words in BOTW where she said her mom (or grandma??) could hear the voices of the spirit realm.

|| Favorites ||

Favourite Drink: Rose tea Favourite Pizza Topping: Basil... Favourite Color: Blue! Favourite Music Genre: She pretty much likes slow and relaxing music, piano comes to mind but *kayne shrug* Favourite Book Genre: Romance aHEM as a princess she doesn’t have time to read cheesy romance novels and fantasize about the day where someone riding on a white horse will sweep her off her feet and they ride off into the sunset never having to bear the burden of her heritage and responsibilities hahaha..... but history and folklore. She likes tragic stories that have bittersweet endings. Favourite Movie Genre: Fantasy, tragic tales, suspense, romance flicks Favourite Season: Spring Favourite Butt Type:

Favourite Swear Word: "Goodness me!” Favourite Scent: Forest scent, the fields, that ancient scent you smell when visiting old places, the smell of book pages Favourite Quote: “Time has stopped for me long ago.”

|| Fun Stuff ||

Bottom or Top:

Sings In The Shower: Yes!!! Well... rose soaked bathwater because she’s spoiled stupid by her castle staff and Impa but she’ll hum a tune here and there! Likes Bad Puns: Of course! She has the playfully innocent attitude so puns is right up her alley! Morality: Lawful / Neutral / Chaotic / Good / Gray / Evil Build: Slender / Scrawny / Bony / Fit / Athletic / Herculean / Babyfat / Pudgy / Obese / Other. Favourite Food: APPLES!!! Namely baked apples and more importantly apple strudel! Her nation is famous for having delicious apples that can help cure fatigue and even rise up stamina a bit! She’s very much a follower of “an apple a day keeps the doctor away” esp if that doctor keeps giving her bitter medicines. “Boss” Theme Music : Excuse me for using a sad track... but... sAD MUSIC HONESTLY SHE’S DEPRESSION PERSONIFIED!! It reflects her hidden melancholy for like everything. I feel like if you have to fight her as a boss it’ll be more of a beautifully sad moment than something epic like that boss fight with puppet zelda which slaps honestly. Their Opinion On The Mun: “Does she thrive on my pain?”

Was tagged by: no one

Tag 15 People: wHO EVER WANTS TO DO THIS

#OK THIS TOOK LONGER THAN IT SHOULD HAVE #because i ramble so much listen i have a lot of headcanons #dash games.#about.

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cksmart-world · 5 years ago

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The completely unnecessary news analysis

by Christopher Smart

July 21, 2020

THE PLAN: NO PLAN

Wonder what the Trump administration's plan is for battling the Covid-19 pandemic? The plan is to have no plan, explained NYU journalism prof. Jay Rosen. He spelled it out: Let daily deaths of two to three thousand become a regular thing and then create confusion about who is responsible. Tell the governors they are in charge even though they can't do the necessary things that only the federal government can do. Blame the virus on the Chinese and overwhelm the system with disinformation, distraction and denial in what Steve Bannon calls, “flooding the zone with shit,” aimed at preventing the public from understanding the consequences of inaction. As Dave Eggers explained satirically in The New York Times: “Plans are for commies and the Danish. Here we do it fast and loose and dumb and wrong, and occasionally we have a man who manufactures pillows come the White House to show the president encouraging texts.” And while everyone is preoccupied with Covid-19, Trump will continue his agenda of clamping down on immigration, enriching big business and himself, breaking down public institutions, consolidating power and whipping his base into a frenzy. Now that's a plan.

BYU: BIGOTS & BUILDINGS

The Black Student Union at BYU (we are not making this up) has called on the administration of the LDS flagship university to take the names of any racist church leaders from campus buildings. But the higher-ups are balking because if they did that many of the structures wouldn't have names. For example, the chemistry building is named for the late LDS President Ezra Taft Benson, who, according to Salt Lake Tribune ace Courtney Tanner, said civil rights for Blacks was a “communist deception.” The campus fieldhouse is named to honor another LDS president, George A. Smith, who once said: “Negroes are not entitled to the full blessing of the gospel.” The embarrassing list goes on. But here at Smart Bomb, we convened religious experts from Murray pool halls who found the perfect solution — name the buildings for people in The Book of Mormon. The fieldhouse could be named Nephi, the founder of the Nephite people. And the chemistry building could be named Lephi, who was Nephi's father. Other buildings could be named for Nephi's sons, Laman, Lemuel and Jacob. It would be perfect and would also enable BYU's football players to learn about Mormonism when they ask questions like: What is a Lemuel?

A TALE OF TWO COUNTRIES

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. No wait, check that. It was the worst of times and no one knew how things got so screwed up. There was a Red America and there was a Blue America and they had little in common although both sides liked chips and salsa. Red America loved guns. Blue America hated guns. Red America hated abortion. Blue American loved a woman's right to choose. Red America loved big, loud Harleys. Blue America liked cute, little scooters. Red America loved diesel pickups with rifle racks. Blue America liked hybrids with climate control. Red America loved Bud and Coors. Blue America would drink only craft beer in chilled schooners. Blue America wore masks in public to be responsible. Red America spewed virus droplets and yelled something about the Constitution. Blue America carried hand sanitizer and did social distancing. Red America went to bars to pick up chicks or dudes. Red America loved Trump and the confederate flag. Blue America wondered what in the hell was going on inside Red America's head. It was the worst-est of times.

Post script — Well history buffs, you should be taking notes because it's not often that shock troops, like the S.S., swarm an American city. In Portland, Ore., protestors, along with Mayor Ted Wheeler and Gov. Kate Brown, were wondering who in the hell are the anonymous security forces in combat dress without insignias jumping out of unmarked vehicles to mug protestors and whisk them away to who-knows-where. But here at Smart Bomb we knew it was the Fuhrer who had unleashed his secret police on those anarchists and commie thugs. The Fuhrer had warned that if Portland didn't stop the vile revolutionaries from demonstrating, he would. (And remember, this has absolutely nothing to do with politics.) Suprise — the blitzkrieg isn't working — it's actually escalating the unrest. People once on the sidelines have joined protestors to push back on the gestapo invasion. Perhaps if Donald Trump showed up with a Bible things would get better. And speaking of freedom fighters, our brethren and sisteren in Utah County made national headlines for rebuking the hoax of coronavirus and freedom-stealing masks that liberals and medical types are foisting on them in a brazen attempt to steal the country from the righteous. Some people, like The Salt Lake Tribune's clairvoyant Robert Gehrke, say it made Utah the laughing stock of the nation. But according to our sources here at Smart Bomb, the Travel Council will use footage of the screaming lunatics to market Utah in other like-minded red states whose citizens yearn for freedom from tyranny with the slogan, “Life Elevated & Unmasked” and “Rock Your Face.”

In honor of John Lewis, we've given Wilson and the band the day off and offer “Invictus” by William Ernest Henley, one of the civil rights icon's favorite poems:

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate,

I am the captain of my soul.

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spidermecc · 6 years ago

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Unintentional love (Elu fake dating AU) Ch. 2 - Mon mec

In order to get rid of Chloe, Eliott and Lucas pretend to be dating. But how long will it be just pretend?

Chapter 2 of my Elu fake dating AU is ready. Find it on AO3 here! Feedback, constructive criticism and general comments are more than welcome!

Chapter 2: Mon mec Lucas woke up, feeling like shit. When he'd gotten home last night, all he wanted to do was go into his room and hide under his covers, never to resurface again. How did a simple foyer meeting turn into such a mess? He was still not over the courage of this guy - Eliott. Just casually telling some girl he didn't know, that he was dating Lucas, a guy he'd met only five minutes ago.

Although Lucas felt horrible for hurting Chloe's feelings, he couldn't help but feel grateful for Eliott. He'd finally gotten rid of her, even though it wasn't exactly supposed to go down like this, he still felt like a chip had been lifted off his shoulders.

But Lucas couldn't help the nagging feeling he got when he thought of how annoyed Eliott looked when Chloe was hitting on him. He had been focusing so intensely on Chloe that Lucas couldn't help but think that Eliott was interested in her. But then, why tell her he's dating a guy?

Gosh, it was too early in the morning for this shit, Lucas thought as he pulled the covers over his face, planning on sleeping the entire weekend away.

Lucas was sitting in French class, barely paying attention to what the teacher was saying. French was his least favorite subject, mainly because he found it boring as hell and he was definitely more into biology and math. The boys always teased him, calling him a weirdo for liking math, but they weren't complaining when he helped them with their homework.

Lucas looked out the window, watching Daphné and Manon having a, semingly very interesting, conversation on the bench outside. He smiled to himself. The girls had really become some of his closest friends lately, and even though he would never admit it, he secretly loved gossiping and drinking wine with them on Friday nights.

Suddenly Lucas noticed a tall messy-haired figure passing by the bench. His heart skipped a beat. It was Eliott. His blue-eyed mystery savior. Well, maybe savior was a bit of a stretch, but Lucas definitely thought that he should find him later today and thank him. He hadn't had any luck finding him on social media during the weekend. He spent almost two hours searching for every Eliott in Paris, but no hit. The guy really was a mystery.

Lucas was interrupted by a vibration from his phone. It was from the gang, in their group chat.

Basile: What the fuck Lucas, you're dating the new guy??

Lucas froze. Fuck, who had told him? Arthur: Yeah I heard some girls talking about it as well. You finally managed to trick a guy into dating you?

Putain, this wasn't good. Both Basile and Arthur had heard it, which must mean that people were talking about it. Fuck, he should have texted Chloe Friday after she left, clearing the air.

Another vibration went off on his phone. A private message from Yann:

Yann: Dude what’s all this with you dating the new guy? Why didn’t you tell me anything?

Lucas was really starting to panic right now, what was he supposed to do? Should he just tell them all that it was a misunderstanding? But what about Chloe, she’d apparently told everyone, and if he didn’t stick to the story, she’d probably tell everyone what a liar and asshole he was. Fuck this, Lucas thought as he typed a reply to Yann:

Lucas: Yeah, but it’s all pretty new so that’s why I didn’t tell you. I wanted to wait, but apparently the rumors got ahead of me haha

He closed the conversation and opened the group chat

Lucas: Calm down guys. It’s true, but we’ve only met up a few times

More like 5 minutes, Lucas thought to himself, as he continued his reply;

Lucas: Can you just keep cool, it’s nothing serious.

Exactly 30 seconds went by, when a new text popped up

Yann: Shit, I’m so happy for you bro, you deserve this. Bring him to the party on Friday, yeah?

Basile: Yes you have to bring him!! We need to meet your new mec

Arthur: Tell him that weed is on me!

Basile: Wait did you guys bone yet??

Arthur: Basile please stop or we’ll block your number

Lucas quickly closed the chat as the bell rang and he basically ran out of the classroom to the nearest restroom. He was completely fucked, what did he do? He shouldn’t have told the guys that it was true. He should definitely have told them the truth, but that meant telling them that he was strictly into guys and that’s why he needed to get rid of Chloe, and he didn’t really feel like doing that right now either.

Okay think Lucas, think. What to do? The truth was that he already knew what he had to do, but oh dear god how he wished he could avoid it. Truth be told, he did really want to see Eliott again and unravel the mystery that he seemed to be. But going up to a devilishly handsome guy, and asking him to pretend to be dating you, at a party with your friends, wasn’t really on Lucas’ to do list today.

Fuck it, he was going to do it. He would find Eliott after school and ask him. After all, Eliott was the one that had gotten them into this mess right? If he hadn’t said anything, Lucas would have made up some girls’ name and Chloe would have left him alone. But that would also have meant that Eliott and him probably wouldn’t talk again. Did Eliott know this was going to happen?

Snap out of it Lucas, of course he didn’t, he’s not a clairvoyant. Although Lucas wouldn’t put anything past him at this point. He’d only met and talked to him for five minutes and he had left Lucas shook for the next 48 hours. How was he even going to be able to have a proper conversation, let alone ask him out on a fake-date, after school?

Lucas spent the rest of the day hiding from his friends while simultaneously looking for Eliott, which wasn’t an easy task. Their school was pretty big and he had absolutely no idea where to start looking. Would he be eating his lunch in the cafeteria? What people would he be hanging out with? Was he the outdoor type who brought his lunch out on the benches in the school yard? Lucas didn’t know anything about the boy except that he was drop dead gorgeous, and apparently his boyfriend now, at least to everyone else.

After his last class, Lucas had given up on finding Eliott. He had looked everywhere, been to every corridor in school, but no sign of Eliott. He couldn’t really ask anyone, I mean asking what classes your supposed boyfriend went to, seemed a bit suspicious, no?

He had managed to get through the day without bumping into the gang, sending them a text saying he wouldn’t be able to make lunch because he had to study at the library. The library was the only place he hadn’t been to, so he thought he’d try his luck before he went home and tried again tomorrow.

The library was in the school basement, a place he’d never set his foot during the two years he’d gone to school. He was pretty sure no one actually went to the library, and he imagined it as a dark and dusty room, almost like something out of a horror movie.

To his surprise the library was surprisingly nice. The librarian was sitting behind her desk reading a book, looking up and smiling at him. He smiled back and went inside. He walked directly to the section with the tables and computers. There was no one there. Lucas sighed and got ready to leave, when he saw a section that caught his attention ‘literature on music’. He walked through the section, his fingers gliding along the dusted books, thinking back to his childhood. How his mother and him would spend hours listening to different kinds of music, talking about one particular song for hours, listening to it over and over again until they both knew the words by heart.

“Hey you” a voice said in a hushed voice

Lucas looked down and there he was.. Eliott. Sitting with his back against the radiator, pencils and notebooks scattered everywhere, covered in drawings of some sort of animal that looked like a rat with a mask on, from where Lucas was standing.

Lucas had thought about Eliott more times than he was willing to admit, this weekend. His messy hair, his blue eyes, his angelic smile. But his memory had completely failed him. Because Eliott was so much more dashing than he remembered him. Sitting there with a pencil behind his right ear, another one in his mouth, chewed down. He was wearing a white t-shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his biceps, where the veins were painfully visible. Lucas swallowed, his mouth felt dry as a desert.

“Hey” he managed to say “I didn’t think anyone actually used the library” he continued, desperate to start a conversation.

Eliott laughed, a genuine and beautiful laugh.

“Yeah I’m a bit chelou like that” he giggled and continued; “What are you doing here then?”

Lucas swallowed again. Okay here goes all or nothing he thought.

“I was actually looking for you”

“Oh?” Eliott looked genuinely puzzled.

“Yeah, I um- wanted to talk to you.. about uhm, what happened Friday night” he managed.

The playful smile was back on Eliott’s face.

“What happened?” he smirked.

Putain, why was he doing this. He was really going to make Lucas say it wasn’t he?

“Well you- uhm, you told Chloe we were dating”

“Did I do something wrong?” he began to look concerned now “I just got the feeling you were desperate for some saving, and I’m a sucker for damsels in distress” he joked, trying to ease the tension.

He imagined what he must have looked like in Eliott’s eyes that night.. like a complete idiot.

“No you didn’t do anything wrong” he assured him “you’re right, I was desperate, you really saved my ass, thanks” he mumbled.

“No worries mec” Eliott beamed. He looked so proud of himself and Lucas found him completely and utterly endearing.

He wasn’t sure how to proceed, so he decided to look at a particular interesting spot on the floor, until Eliott broke the silence.

“Was that why you were looking for me? To say thanks?”

“Not exactly” Lucas admitted, looking up at Eliott.

Eliott was looking intensely at Lucas, he looked genuinely interested in what Lucas had to say. The eye contact was too much for Lucas, he felt like he could drown in those eyes if he kept looking into them. His eyes started wandering, settling on the pencil behind Eliott’s ear.

“So the thing is that there are rumors going around at school” he finally managed.

“What kind of rumors?”

“That we’re uhm.. well that we’re dating”

Lucas was afraid to look into Eliott’s eyes. Afraid to see regret or disgust that people thought they were actually dating. But when he finally caught his eyes, he didn’t see any of those emotions. Eliott was just looking at Lucas curiously, willing him to continue, so he did.

“And well, all of my friends thinks we’re dating, and I didn’t really know how to tell them that I lied. So now they’re all expecting me to bring my date.. I mean you, to a party on Friday and I totally get if you think that’s too much or too weird, but I swear it’s just for one night and then I promise I’ll tell them that we broke it off and-“

Lucas was babbling, unable to stop himself. Afraid that if he stopped talking, Eliott would answer and tell Lucas to fuck off, that he was just trying to be nice, but he wasn’t interested in going to some party with him. But he was interrupted by Eliott;

“Sure, why not? I haven’t been to a party in ages anyway” he laughed. Eliott genuinely seemed amused by the whole situation whilst Lucas just wanted to dig himself into a hole and never reappear again.

“Are you for real? You’d do that?”

“Well it’s because of me that you’re in this mess right?”

“I mean- I guess” Lucas answered, still trying to process the fact that Eliott didn’t seem to be completely weirded out by him.

“Well now that I think about it, yeah it is pretty much your fault” Lucas joked, hoping that his joking demeanor would convince Eliott that this party was only a one-time thing and that Lucas was only asking because he didn’t have any other choice.

“Well then I better take responsibility for my actions, huh?” Eliott joked

“Yes definitely, it’s the least you can do”

“Well I guess I’ll see you Friday then.. honey” he winked at Lucas, as a wide grin spread across his face, obviously very pleased with his joke. Lucas couldn’t contain his laughter; this guy was definitely the cutest thing he’d ever laid his eyes on, and even though he’d never admit it to himself, he couldn’t wait for Friday to come.

“Yeah see you Friday Eliott” he said as he hurried out of the library, afraid that if he stayed for another minute he’d say something stupid and Eliott would change his mind.

As soon as he stepped out of the library, he felt a hand on his shoulders, and it sent absolute shivers down his spine.

“Maybe we should exchange numbers? You know so we can meet up and go to the party together, so it doesn’t look suspicious?” Eliott said, his hand still lingering on Lucas’ shoulder until he turned around.

“Yeah, of course” he answered as he handed his phone to Eliott, still affected by the previous warm touch on his shoulder.

Eliott wrote his number down, “alright, see you Friday then” he said, handing the phone back to Lucas, turning around and going back to his spot by the radiator.

Lucas looked down at his phone and looked at the newly added contact, named: Mon mec <3

#elu fic #elu #skam france #skamfr #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury #eliott x lucas #lucas x eliott #fanfic

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seasbelow · 7 years ago

Text

American Horror Story: Apocalypse

Here are my opinions that could clear some of your minds and possibly answer some questions. (MAY BE EDITED IN THE FUTURE.)

Why didn’t Michael bring back Nan, while he brought back the others?

She’s a lost cause: Remember, Nan’s life/soul was traded in to Papa Legba for Marie Laveau’s immortality back in season 3. So it’s possible that Michael wouldn’t be able to retrieve her due to Papa Legba’s statue (him being a separate entity and all): he’s part of the Haitian Vodou culture, which is unrelated to the Roman Catholicism beliefs that Michael (the Anti-Christ) “can” fall under. So therefore, it’s possible he wouldn’t be able to bring back Nan himself, UNLESS he was able make some sort of deal with Papa, which seems more believable. However, this is unlikely because the actress who played Nan, Jamie Brewer doesn’t appear to be credited for this season. But I guess Ryan can pull anything out of his ass at this point, so who really knows?

UPDATE: @xlangdons-evilbabygirlx has claimed that since Nan is clairvoyant, it’s possible Michael would rather keep Nan dead than alive since she could easily read his, and anyone else’s mind. This is an easier theory to get behind but, it still doesn’t excuse Cordelia’s statement of having “all her girls” back. How rude.

(BUT THIS INFORMATION COULD BE USEFUL FOR FAN-FICTION OR ROLE-PLAYING PURPOSES. Just saying. You’re welcome!)

The Supreme situation: (PART 1, Cordelia’s Power)

I’m going to be honest, I have no idea why Cordelia’s rotting but, I have a theory we can discuss: When Fiona and the supreme before her were essentially dying (”fading”) and losing their powers, they received different conditions such as cancer and other health problems. It’s possible that she was cursed by Michael, or that she was too head on with his evil (demonic) force. But, it’s weird that the other witches don’t exactly have this effect from him, (except for Misty, since she fell back by his presence, when she was brought back. And even then, she had stated that she can sense the evil within him.) and they’re supposedly weaker than the supreme, so I’m not very sure.

(PART 1: UPDATE) Now that I’ve seen episode 5 for the second time, I am leading more onto that Michael is using his powers to make it seem like Cordelia is fading when in reality, she isn’t; it’s just a show for the warlocks to force them believe that he’s the next supreme, and to serve doubt to Cordelia and her Coven. This is backed up by one scene where Michael reopens his eyes to Misty, causing her to fall back, while weakening Cordelia and giving her a bloody nose.

The Supreme Situation: (PART 2)

Both Michael and Mallory are not be the next supreme. It just wouldn’t make sense and Mallory would be too obvious. (but I’ll get back to her in a different bullet of her own) However,I do believe they’re different forces that aren’t warlock or witch related, Michael being the Anti-Christ and Mallory being the exact opposite. Take Note: It’s also stated by Cordelia, that “He will not be the next Supreme” and that she only let him perform the Seven Wonders to see how powerful he truly was while using him to her benefit (to get Misty back).

I know Michael has stated, “I thought I got rid of them all” during his ritual. It’s possible that he still didn’t have a clue and just safely assumed she was a witch. OR IT COULD BE A PLOT HOLE. OR I’M JUST PLAIN WRONG and that she is a powerful witch & the next supreme but, I’m really hoping that is not the case, because that would be whack as f*&%. I’m sorry, but that would be too obvious. Give us something different...

Who or What is Mallory?

Okay, SO: Mallory’s abilities (to me) don’t display magic or any sort of witchcraft in my opinion, but as something very godlike. She can resurrect the dead, give life or create it, which was showcased by bringing back a deer from death or its suffering while also reversing its age. She also created life from a plain white rose by transforming its petals into butterflies. Mallory could possibly be a child born from “god” and human, making her a demigod or even the next Christ (if Ryan takes it there???). She be an angel or something else angelic if we’re getting something smaller. So, there’s no way she could be the cause of Cordelia’s deteriorating body since, she doesn’t bring forth death or decay; she brings the opposite.

Mallory also appears to be Michael’s only equal, and this was shown when she went face to face with him back in his office, without showing any fear whatsoever. He then asked “who are you?”, which lead me to believe he couldn’t identify her or “what she was” because, let’s be real, he could easily sense a witch’s presence when one is brought up to him, since he’s been surrounded by them before. He also showed distress and shock when Mallory forced out fire from behind him; Michael was never afraid of a witch or her power before, so why would he be now?

The Same Face Actors that Play Different Characters

I thought this was established already in previous seasons (Hotel mainly) but, I see that some people are still confused with the different characters sharing the same faces. It’s safe to say it’s ignored within this universe, even if the characters end up meeting each other face to face. For example, in Hotel, no one acknowledged that Billie Dean Howard looked like Sally or Cordelia (since she was mentioned by Liz Taylor in the last episode of season 5), because they’re different and unrelated. End of Story. I hope that makes sense, I tried my best explaining this once.

#ahs apocalypse #ahs #american horror story #michael langdon #cordelia goode #mallory #mine.#bullet post.

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darcyfirth · 7 years ago

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For the horror prompts could you possibly do one with F and Z? Like possibly them seeing ahead the kidnapping and trying to stop it? If not I would like to see what you could do with F

F - Clairvoyant predicting disaster AU

Z - Kidnapped and held hostage AU

read it on ao3

Eggsy was in the middle of bringing Roxy her mug of hot chocolate when it happened to him.

At the sound made by broken ceramic on the floor, Roxy perked up from her seat on the sofa and gave Eggsy a questioning look. One swift glance at his face and she already knew what was going on, phone forgotten, she dashed to his trembling form in the kitchen and kneeled down.

“What is it this time, Eggsy?” asked Roxy, her hands steadying a breathless Eggsy.

But her friend wasn’t back with her just yet, he was already lost in the mist.

In it, he saw a struggling man tied to a chair, nearly everything about him was shrouded in a dark cloud. Apart from his shoes, nothing else appeared quite as clear.

“Harry!” he exclaimed. “Harry’s in danger and he needs me.”

“Harry?” repeated Roxy. “Where is he? Can you tell?”

“I- I can’t see much,” Eggsy said, shaking his head, eyes turning back to a normal mix of green and grey instead of a dusk-like yellow. “There were his shoes. And he was trying to get out of some sort of ties.”

Standing up shakily with the help of Roxy, Eggsy continued to recount in a rush, “He was on a chair and the room was empty. Dark.” Eggsy felt a sense of urgency overtook him and fished out his Kingsman-issued phone in his pocket, dialing Merlin’s number.

“Eggsy? Are you sure that it’s Harry? How could you tell from just his shoes?” Roxy asked as she picked up her umbrella and glasses.

“It’s a couple thing!” Eggsy shouted back and ran for the door.

Startled to silent, Roxy stared at his slowly disappearing form and said, voice filled with incredulity, “What the fuck is a couple thing?”

Eggsy almost fell to the floor the moment he woke up.

Was it a long sleep? Did he pass out? He couldn’t tell.

The last thing he remembered was being pulled apart from Roxy when they arrived at the manor. Someone covered his mouth with a cloth and the right side of his neck smarted like crazy.

Like being pricked by a tiny little needle. Or a dart.

Was he incapacitated by a tranquiliser?

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

He was supposed to be on his way to Merlin’s office and tell him of Harry’s kidnapping. And some random asshole just decided to take him hostage as well.

Was it the same fucker who took his Harry? Were they put in separate rooms?

He tried to listen for any type of movements but heard nothing. Calling out at this moment could alert the guards, if there was any, and in this type of situation, there always was.

Eggsy attempted to wiggle his upper body, there were ties around his chest and one on his hands. They weren’t made of sturdy materials. Not the kind that would hurt him if he struggled too much. Eggsy could even feel the soft, silky texture of the ribbon with the tip of his fingers. The very same kind that was used to blindfold him.

I could get myself out of this, he thought. They aren’t as tough as the ones we use at home. Thanks Harry and his obsession for intricate knots.

Eggsy was well on his way of freeing his hands, the knot loosened enough for him to ease his knuckles out if he just tried hard enough, when the door in front of him opened.

Then, nothing came.

A light breeze caressed Eggsy’s right arm, signalling him that someone just walked past.

The floor was carpeted, of course.

Someone was behind him, breathing softly and quietly, someone careful and gentle, for their fingers worked to untie first his hands then his blindfold without even straining the cloth. Not even once.

Calmer now than ever, and having smelt the familiar scent seconds ago, Eggsy exhaled dramatically, eyes still close, and asked:

“Explain, Harry.”

“Just a moment,” said his boyfriend, who had moved to play with the ties around Eggsy’s body. The man could use one of the many sharp weapons hidden in his suit but no, he had to have fun with the knots first.

“Now. If you don’t want me to put chili pepper in all of your mustard.”

“You’re not being fair. This is not my doing, by the way,” Harry said, looping the ties around his hand before carefully putting them on a hard surface.

“I thought you were on a mission.”

“I was, and I just got back. That was when Merlin told me of his grand plan.”

“Scheme,” corrected Eggsy.

“Scheme,” agreed Harry.

“So, what is this then? A funny prank of his on us?” Eggsy’s teeth would cease to exist if he didn’t stop grinding right about now.

Harry hummed, his voice came from somewhere near Eggsy’s face now, he was probably standing if Eggsy’s estimation was in any way accurate.

“I saw it, you know, you being tied to a chair, helpless. I was worried,” Eggsy said.

“Through your vision?”

“Yes.”

“What did you see?”

“Your shoes. I could see someone wearing your shoes, the ones I bought for you last month, on Valentine’s day. You were wearing it before you left for the mission yesterday.”

“My dear,” Harry whispered, “you are wearing the same ones.”

Fuck, Eggsy thought.

“Fuck,” he said aloud, earning a chuckle from Harry.

The shoes were their couple thing. Matching couple items that Eggsy had loved so much, to be using the same things Harry used, to share a special design of a mug, a pair of gloves, that his Harry also drank from or wore every day.

“It didn’t even cross my mind,” Eggsy admitted. Internally, he knew that there was rarely anything not-Harry could occupy his head for more than a span of two minutes.

Harry’s hand came to touch his beloved cheek, his thumb brushed the smooth skin, the touch undoubtedly had a soothing effect on Eggsy who sighed minutely.

Fingers lingered on Eggsy’s jaw before sliding back to cup his nape, pulling him ever so lightly forward, a soft kiss fell on his forehead, his nose was filled with the warm scent of Harry.

Then, Harry backed away and said, “Open your eyes, Eggsy.”

Eggsy complied.

At Harry’s smile, he said, “Oh God.”

“That’s not what I was expecting.”

“Nor us!” Came Merlin voice from somewhere outside the room.

“You mean-?”

“I bought this ring on the 10th of February. I was, in all sense of the word, terrified that you would say no. So when you told me we should buy those pairs of shoes, I said yes,” smiled Harry, the corners of his eyes betraying his calm mask.

“Oh, Harry,” Eggsy said, sliding down to be on the same eye level as the man he love.

“I know you like us using matching-”

“Couple,” Eggsy said immediately.

“Couple things,” Harry laughed, an adoring look overwhelmed his entire expression, “Would you maybe consider marrying me, so that we can have the same set of rings now?”

“That’s not what I was expecting.”

“What?”

“Would you like to marry me? It’s what-”

“I do,” Harry said in a heartbeat.

“Harry!” Eggsy giggled and grabbed Harry’s shoulders, their lips meeting in soft whispers and fluid grace, the kind of practised ease that only people who had been together for a long time could perfect.

Couple shoes, couple mugs, couple gloves and now couple rings. Or engagement rings, as people would normally call it.

Eggsy and Harry would soon share yet another matching thing after this day.

The one-of-a-kind last name of Unwin-Hart.

horror/sci-fi aus

#hartwin #kingsman #harry hart #eggsy unwin #hartwin fic #omg i'm so sorry this is so cheesy #that is.. my brand now apparently #*promptfills #*myhartwinfics #*tara writes #winsky1989 #asks #eggsy's ability is to see into the future #as you can see #but harry's is to tie people mentally and physically at will #every kingsman agent has a special ability in this AU that i have somehow come up with

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rarestereocats · 7 years ago

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recap of thursday’s session of the crusades campaign!

Our desert adventure continues with us learning of a small village a little ways out from the city celebrating a Festival of Whispers. It's a celebration of the solstice as well as the old gods, so with the suggestion of a little sight-seeing, we decide to go check it out. On the way, Elathera has a thanks me for helping her start to overcome her fear of heights and asks if I have a fear like that. I tell her about how scared of fire I am, so she tells me to close my eyes, which is incredibly concerning to hear when it comes to conversations about overcoming fears via exposure; but she is my friend and I trust her not to immediately thrust me into some flames for good measure. She casts a contingency spell on me to aid with said fear, but doesn't say anything even when I open my eyes and ask about. She mentions something about a pretty nasty sandstorm rolling in, but she took care of it before it hit us and I don't know enough about magic or weather to dispute that.

So after being proud of my friend from totally stopping us from sudden death (really, it'd be a mild inconvenience to us with how powerful we are), we roll up into this small village and immediately throw ourselves into the festivities. We get some delicious treats, play some games, and me and Elathera manage to get lost in a labyrinth built for children for three hours. Being that we're both the least intelligent members of this group and considering our history of going off on our own, is anyone surprised? Even still, while the others are wandering around the village and gathering information, we try and convince them later that we were absolutely doing the same and totally didn't almost get trapped in aforementioned labyrinth. There was a ghostly illusion inside that warned us we wouldn't get out and dear fucking gods, she was almost right.

The festivities continue with some snowberry juice, fireworks, and the village elder telling us an intriguing tale around the campfire. He pulls out a stony mask and passes it around as he tells us the tale of it and the being it once belonged to, Lochoria. Elathera detects that there's powerful magic tied to it and as the elder recounts a tale of the goddess, Bibiana, creating a pocket of timelessness and peace within the material plane, we're all thinking of finding this place ourselves. But as the legend states, the mask was either cast out or stolen away, forever cursing that pocket dimension and now the once beautiful paradise lies in ruins. Allegedly returning the mask to that land would revive it, so after the story is over, Industria convinces the elder to let us borrow the mask in an effort to find out where this hidden city lies.

Everybody else heads back to the carriage to inspect the mask and perform a ritual on it to gather information, but me and Lucky decide to go wandering. True to the festival's name, I'm treated to some seemingly ominous whispering in my ear; "The time for revelation is nigh. Only those who dwell in the shadows may see the unseen. That which holds the most truth is always spoken with a stony face. If you will not, it will wear you.". Cryptic as shit and the minute I tell Lucky, they look a little alarmed and suggest we head back to the others. Meanwhile, Elathera and Industria are trying to figure out how to get even more information on this thing and figure we should go visit an old ally we haven't seen since our early days in the war. The Xanter. We decide to rest up for the night and everybody is plagued by whispers or strange, unsettling dreams that all seem to tie back to the mask.

Come morning, we teleport back to familiar enough territory and the Xanter kicks everything off by warning us never to step foot into the Feywild again as people there are less than pleased with us cuz of our previous visit long ago. The minute we pull the mask out, the Xanter is surprised and asks how we got it, stating that the mask belongs to Iolond, a god associated with fey. If we bring this mask and return it to the Feywild, it would help us get back in good graces with them, but we're still adamant on returning it to the lost city. After he takes a look at it and deems it to be without a curse, we of course, start to play around with it. Industria puts it on first, helping us realize the mask makes somebody pretty much non-existent to everyone. With her permission, I slap the mask on next and I'm treated to the sight of a mostly featureless being with a charming smile standing before me. It presses a finger to its lips and then fades from existence.

Clearly startled by this, I quickly take it off and hand it to Elathera and tell her to tell me if she sees anything out of the ordinary. She picks up on a trace of magic left behind by the being and traces where it teleported to. The being bounced into the land of the gods, Atmeos, before leaving that void again. She suggests teleporting in there to find it, but Industria warns that we can't travel freely into there without the risk of dying on the spot. So I reluctantly put the mask back on and call out to the being, surprised when it actually shows back up. It tells me I'm the one in the shadows and tells me to seek out what can't be found by its kind and with that, disappears again. We manage to piece together that I spoke to Iolond itself and it's clear it wants us to find this lost city. The Xanter points us in the right direction and off we go.

With the mask guiding me along and Elathera guiding the others as she's the only one who can see me when it's on, we find a portal once we teleport back into the desert. The mask is the key to activating it, so I peek inside, realizing the portal immediately goes into a 500 foot drop to the ruins below. I try to warn everyone, but Elathera steps through without waiting, nearly falling to her death. With everyone else getting down safely, that leaves me and Jordeira. I don't like the thought of having to sit so close to him on the flying carpet so with no witnesses, I head into the portal on the carpet without him, leaving him no choice but to take the fall...literally. He hits the ground hard enough to detach his own arm, making Elathera flip the fuck out and Industria race to fix it, but before she can; he's angrily throwing it my way. After the little spat and my innocence maintained cuz nobody can prove I did anything wrong, he stitches it back on and we make our way into the city.

With the mask, I can see it's crawling with ghosts and I hate every minute of this. Industria can also see all the ghosts and I watch in horror as one latches onto her and shoves her soul from her body, taking it for themselves. With new life, it's panicking, but also eager to get food before bursting into tears and Elathera's not sure what's going on; so she tells the others they should leave right away. They all take off back towards the portal and I stay behind with Industria's spirit, who calls out to the others to tell them what happened. As they all tackle that issue, more and more ghosts are surrounding me and in a fit of panic, I take off as I don't wanna be the next victim of body snatching and hide out in a relatively ghost free house. Once the others find me, we decide to skip on trying to help these damned souls and head straight for the castle...which surprise! Has more ghosts.

Once inside though, we decide not to explore the castle to the fullest and with a clairvoyance bead I won from the three hour labyrinth excursion the day before, a magic thread leads us to the previous owner of the mask. We find Lochoria, barely holding on and she invites us inside her room to share the truth of the situation. She is the daughter of Bibiana and Iolond, after the trickster god took the form of Altamere to get with her. Bibiana was angry and embarrassed that she was tricked and hid this from the other gods, locking Lochoria away in a pocket dimension, handing her Iolond's mask which would keep her perfectly hidden from anyone. But with Lochoria technically being a goddess, she needed followers in order to survive. With her power waning, she cast the mask out in the hopes it would drag more people her way, but in the end; all it did was destroy the city around her and curse its inhabitants.

She doesn't want to be trapped her any longer, so after some deliberating, we decide we'll free her. But walking an unknown goddess out onto the material plane could cause a war of massive proportions, so in a startling twist, we approach this situation cautiously. Me and Industria head back up to Heaven to ask for Sabella's permission to turn Lochoria loose and it turns out that even she didn't know about her. She seems shocked, but asks us to bring the girl to her, so with Tacitus in tow, we head back to the city to pick her up. Before we slip back inside, I have a brief conversation with Iolond to make sure that this is what it wanted us to find and do. With its reassurance that we're doing exactly as it wants, we grab Lochoria and the rest of our group and head back up to Heaven to rest.

#adventures of the volunteer fire department #oc: zakina kociak #game: pathfinder crusades

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