#might try again but do like an initial color down where the form of the dragon will be and then transger the lines on top of that to paint

[dksartz]

Little Blue Dreams

Acrylic on panel 6x6"

Reference from thekangaroosanctuary on insta from their video on Pippa the Joey's first steps. Sketched the kangaroo while watching the video, then sketched out the baby dragon based on that.

Young Blue pernese dragon in an abstract purple-red space.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

book 7 part 9 thoughts!!

***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 PART 9 OF THE MAIN STORY!!*** Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that roughly unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.

Kind of a short update this time! It spans parts 140 to 157.

As a reminder, only Vil is following Yuu and co. into the next dream. This is because traveling around with too many people may cause a bug in Idia’s dream hacking and/or it may make it easier for Malleus to notice them.

They land in Kalim’s dream!! There is a segment where Vil freaks out about falling and we get to see his cute squeaky-voiced vulnerable side again. (Yes, the others tease him about it 😂)

They use DREAM FORM CHANGE to swap between dorm uniform (for combat) and school uniform (for general interactions within the dream).

And this new location is…

HUH WHATm/s tHIS?????

It seems like the Scalding Sands, but we’ve never seen this before.

OOP THEre’S THE BOY

Those colors look really good on him!! But the hat looks like it’s floating or sitting on just the scalp… It feels like maybe it should be further down on his head. (Sorry about the weird screenshot chsvskwguejsk)

Kalim doesn’t seem to recognize our squad, nor NRC. He says that he goes to Qasr Sultanate Academy (guess that’s where the name of his new uniform comes from). It is founded on the generous spirit of the Oasis’s Master (the Sultan). The school was established 2 years ago by his rich ass father, since this area did not have a magic school prior to that. THIS IS NEPOTISM AT ITS FINEST, FOLKS

***Note: "qasr" -> castle or palace, "sultanate" -> a place governed by a sultan!***

Idia reasons that Kalim might be this way to avoid the tragedies that play out at NRC. The dream is sheltering him…

Everyone is dying of heat, so Kalim uses his UM to give them cool drinking water. He also has some servants (no Jamil) bring the roof over to them to help them cool off???

BUT THEN jAMIL PULLS UP AnD

iT’S SO WEIRD, WhY’ShE SO PERKY AnD KIRAKIRA…………………… ……. …… …. … . ……. .. . … …. . . . HE;S SMILING TOO MUCH, IT;S SUS...... THIS iS wROng (Side note, those colors are also nice on him!)

Dream!Jamil explains that he was hired by Kalim’s father but that their families never cared about their different statuses. In this dream, they basically grew up as real childhood friends and always talk honestly with each other.

The group reminds Kalim that Jamil isn’t REALLY like this. Vil especially lays into him, roasting Jamil’s character and going into how untrustworthy he is, etc.

Jamil tries to keep Kalim in the dream by using Snake Whisper. Eventually Kalim has his breakthrough, which is where the Groovy for his new card comes from. He realizes that he believed in a false yet convenient Jamil, he cannot face him anymore.

WAHHHHH look at him 😭 He’s leaking like a faucet… but he’s also trying so hard to wipe away his tears, to be strong and stand on his own to fight against the fake Jamil! Let’s give him a round of applause, folks 👏

(This also means that there is potentially a pattern being established with these new limited main story cards; the Groovies will probably be the character crying as they have their realization that this world is a fake one. Does that mean… Crying J word next time??????? Maybe??? Or nah??? 😭 GOD PLEASE NO MY HEART WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO HANDLE IT—)

Vil tells Kalim that he also did something embarrassing in his own dream so it’s fine. Kalim callously laughs when he hears about Vil bossing Neige around, then quickly apologies because he realizes he was supposed to deny how bad it is.

Kalim joins the party!! He says it feels weird because usually Jamil is the one to wake HIM up.

They hop into Jamil’s dream!! They appear to have landed in a Silk City bazaar. Ortho takes headcount of them like they’re students on a casual field trip, lol

Kalim enjoyed the jump but Vil seems to be having a hard time keeping up. Ortho and Silver will stay with Vil while the rest of them look for Jamil.

Yuu and co. fuck around in the market a little, getting coconut juice (well, Kalim buys 10 at once) and whatever. Guys… now is seriously NOT the time.

While giving them juice, the vendor suddenly becomes hostile towards Kalim and demands payment instead of letting him put it on his family’s tab.

OMG?????? Apparently in Jamil’s dream, the Al-Asims are broke and scam free stuff from the vendors 😭 WHILE JAMIL IS RICH AF

The vendor is calling the POLICE

Silver comes running to save the day!! He says he will pay for his friends and we avoid being hauled off to jail ✨

We continue our search for Jamil, deciding to trek to Kalim’s home in Silk City since that’s where the Vipers live irl. INSTEAD THEY FIND THIS DESOLATE PLACE (reusing the dried up oasis background)

A bystander explains that the Asim familt’s business failed so they had to give up their house. It got moved and repainted black and red… AND NOW JAMIL’S THE MASTER 💀

A guard comes to chase them off and recognizes Kalim as a servant. Turns out, the Vipers bought the old Asim home and employed them as servants to help them out.

… I saw this coming from a mile away, but the cringe of seeing it for myself is too much to bear…

LMAO????? Now we get a rhythmic/twistune of Yuu and co. marching in a parade with Jamil at the head of it.

WhAT YHE FUCK iS ThiS InTERIOR DESIGN, THAT’S LITERLLY A STatUE OF jAfAR DoING THE GOLFING SWING

Jamil is not enrolled in NRC; he is also enrolled in a new magic school called Jahir Sahar College (?).

***Note: "jahir" -> jewels, "sahar"/"sehri" -> wizard or magic!***

Jamil scolds Kaim for wearing a uniform of the wrong color and “corrects” it for him. Kalim casually says thank you but Jamil tells him it is, “JAMIL-SAMA, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!!!” He reminds Kalim that the Asims owe the Vipers a debt so large that they cannot hope to repay it in their lifetime, so be sure to be useful to him.

… Bro is power tripping so hard 😭

Jamil becomes suspicious of us but Vil plays it off like we’re students come to research the Scalding Sands for a Film Club activity. He allows us to stay but backhanded comments that we look dumb so we won’t pose a threat.

Jamil then offers to give us a tour SiNCE HE’S THE STUDENT COUNCiL PRESIDENT (Rollo called he wants his title back). I’m guessing this is the case instead of him being dorm leader so Jamil is the ONLY top dog around.

Oh yeah!! Minor thing, magic carpet comes in at some point. Its its colors are closer to that of the magic carpet in the Aladdin film.

He orders Kalim to prepare a feast; Kalim provides water with Oasis Maker and grabs food from the kitchen—all of Jamil’s favorites! But no matter how eager to please he is, Jamil tells him off and makes remarks about how useless Kalim is 😔

xbshgejwgsowkw Yuu and co. are like “WOW, Jamil’s imagination is so strong so it’s going to be hard to wake him up!!” It’s okay, you can say he’s delusional/j

Jamil wavers a little because Kalim begins talking about their childhood memories. It’s stirring up his own recollections, and I think the dream’s interpretation of these evens is clashing with the reality that Kalim shares.

Blah blah blah

Dream!Kalim arrives to kiss Jamil’s ass :v aaand Jamil descends into the darkness…

What we see is a potential future in which Jamil succeeded in book 4; Azul and the Scarabia mobs are under his hypnotic influence… Kalim is gone… and Jamil plans to use the dirt Azul has collected to blackmail the other dorm leaders and take them down. (This lends credence to the idea of him being student council president in his dream because he wants to be the ONLY one in charge.)

LMAO????? Jamil shit talks the dorm leaders 💀 Like saying that no one likes Riddle anyway, how Leona is probably another lazy nepo baby, etc.

AnD THEN AfTER THE DoRM LEADERS HE’s PlANNING ON GOInG AfTER CROWlEY’S iRRESPONSibLE aSS 😭 Jamil has his sights set on ruling over the entire school…

AyO??????????

I THINK KALIM PUNCHED JAMIL AnD THEYmRE fISTFIGHTING?????? PLEASE, THIS IS PATHETIC

They shout about the things they hate the most about each other. Jamil hates Kalim’s optimism, Kalim finally FINALLY declares that he hates how two-faced Jamil is. It’s so intense even the hypnotized students are stunned????

Sebek wants to pummel Jamil too but Silver holds him back. His reasoning??? Sometimes people get emotionally charged and it’s better for them to let those out through their fists instead of their words.

I cannot believe that Silver Vanrouge in our lord 2024 really went, “No, no. Let them cook :)” 🤡

Kalim starts laughing because this is a unique experience to him?? Apparently he and Jamil never fought for real in the 17 years they knew each other. Jamil agrees and says if he neat Kalim up “irl” it would cause problems for everyone… and he realizes his wording and begins questioning the dream world because of that.

He finally wakes up! xbsnbsjwkwkwvdk Kalim is so excited his live 2D model is bouncing on the screen!

The goop returns and drags Jamil to a familiar scene where he OBs and then squares off against his Phantom, similar to what happened with Idia and Vil. Jamil calls his OB self pathetic and always looking for someone to blame. He now sees that view as narrow-minded and limiting.

His Phantom tries to goad him by likening their situation to being genies trapped in a dark and small space, existing to be used their entire lives and not being allowed the freedom they wish for. Admittedly, Jamil has pretty cool lines, saying he doesn’t like the Phantom forcing its own wishes on him. He’s reclaiming his freedom by renouncing the idea of pitying himself. He doesn’t plan to spend his whole life inside that lamp and his wallowing, he is going to make his own wishes come true—not 3 or 10 or 100, but every single one.

(Cue insane Jamil laughter here)

He of course gains the upper hand and rises victorious. Jamil tells Dream!Kalim that he is so polite and subservient it’s disgusting, then he uses Snake Whisper to send him away.

Jamil says there’s no point in changing roles or positions because ultimately the power to decide what happens is his and his alone. He also says he is not interested in power or freedom granted to him by someone else… He will take what he wants on his own! (Not sure why he’s announcing this when no one asked, but pop off I guess 😂 Vil gave a similar speech when he was facing his own demons, but shorter and I don’t think Idia just mumbled to himself before getting back in contact with Ortho.)

Meeting back up with Yuu and co., Jamil is added to the party! (Kalim tries to glomp him in a hug but Jamil expertly dodges ‘xbssvzjav$c(/?/)

Okay, so Vil is staying behind because he doesn’t feel well and doesn’t want to hold the group back. Kalim also stays behind because he’s still covered in bruises and such from fist fighting Jamil. This will probably be another pattern that occurs moving forward; only the OB boy moves on with the group.

Next time… Octavinelle’s dreams and maybe J word crying card 👀!

I think by this time, we already know what to expect in terms of general events. Going into a dream, experiencing it for a short time, learning shocking news about the circumstances, character uses UM, character learns the truth, character cries and fights the dream (who is trying to keep them there), character joins party. If it’s an OB boy, then they will get more screen time and a dedicated segment to fighting their Phantom and then giving a speech about their character development before joining us. Then only the OB boy will dream hop with the Yuu, Grim, Silver, Sebek, Idia, and Ortho while the boys stay behind with the projected selves Ortho creates. Rinse and repeat the formula, and you can probably easily predict what’s coming in future updates.

In terms of this update, I gotta say that I’m impressed Kalim finally followed through on the promise of decking Jamil… a promise he made all the way back in book 4!! While he doesn’t do it with any malicious intent, I think it’s a large stride going forward in having Kalim assert himself and acknowledge the faults that Jamil very obviously has.

As for Jamil... I think it’s becoming pretty obvious what they’re going for in those OB boy scenes; clearly, they mean to have it be like he is speaking to his “other half” in the mirror, a reflection of himself. In this way, each boy confronts the worst aspects of them and comes to terms with it. It’s meant to represent their character growth from when they first appeared in the main story. I’m just… not sure if I like how it’s been handled overall; I do like everyone’s speeches so far (they are good; Jamil’s especially slays with all the thematically appropriate allusions to genies and wish-granting), but I’m less enthusiastic about the context under which these speeches are given. I will most likely make a separate post going into detail about this, but I figured I’d at least lay my general thoughts out here first.

ahbfbyoqwv8yfqwv8q The highlight of this update this time was just seeing how unhinged Jamil's desires are when given no limitations. It's such a shockingly large role reversal to stick himself in the head honcho seat with zero opposition AND force Kalim into being humbled. When the tables turn on him, Jamil is so quick to being a ruthless and cold master 💦 HE'S FR THE TYPE OF GUY THAT ISNT JUST SATISFIED SUCCEEDING, HE ALSO NEEDS YOU TO FAIL The more of these dreams we see, the more we get the sense that Malleus's idea of happiness is VERY shallow. This was something already verbalized by Idia last update, but I feel it needs repeating because of how difficult to resolve Kalim and Jamil's relationship is. The way his solutions are so... absolute (Kalim and Jamil being besties and/or a complete role reversal) reminds me of the points I often hear from fans who say, "Kalim could free Jamil! Kalim should talk to his dad!" There's good intentions behind it, but it ultimately misses the forest for the trees (that being the complicated social nuances surrounding their families). It's an out-of-body experience seeing that viewpoint displayed via Malleus's magic, but it also feels cathartic to see it being dispelled as being nothing close to reality.

Those are all my thoughts for now!! Really looking forward to the next installment :)) and its potential for... crying J word... Though who knows, maybe it’s just for light trio only and I’m delulu—

[97keanu]

Digital Angel

Premise: In chapter four, we finally reconcile these two nerds into speaking again. A new deal is struck, and our two hackers might just be able to find love along the way. That is, if Neo can quell his new obsession with watching you without your knowledge…

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Slowburn, eventual smut, loser!neo, perv!neo, goth!reader, hacker!reader, reader is trying to forget Neo existed, Neo is not going to let that happen, enemies to friends to lovers, stalking, obsession, themes of loneliness and longing.

Words: 2.4k

Read chapters 1-3 here! Be added to Neo’s taglist here!

Last night’s rain has begun to tame the heat of Chicago, which you now walk down without a care in sight. You bounce on platform heels that come up just under your knees, hair teased to delightful extremes, and a black lipped smirk that has strangers moving out of your way. You were sick of being holed up in your apartment for so long, waiting on some half assed ‘knight in shining armor’, or should you say, trench coat. Even though it still hurt that Neo ghosted you, after a few weeks, you had to move on. It was more important than any hacking case he sent you tonight, you needed to feel like yourself again, first and foremost.

You enter Club Hel and greet the bouncer, who of course asks where you have been. You shrug and give a nonchalant answer before moving towards the call of the dance floor inside. Nine Inch Nails blasts through the speakers, Reznor whispering all sorts of filthy things he would like to do to all who can listen. You find the beat in your body and join the other gothic souls trying to get lucky on a Friday night.

You grind into a girl who has bright purple hair and a lip piercing, she laughs along with you as you kiss along her neck and hold her hips into yours. Tonight was all about having fun, you’ve decided. Not to think about Neo and his stupid cute face and the way he has avoided you for so long. You instead, turn your attention to feeling the fishnets on the thighs of the girl dancing with you, and soon enough the wind changes and you’re happily dancing with someone else.

That’s what you liked about being here. That you were so free. Free to do what you pleased, enjoy others' company without even saying a word, perhaps even quell that deep pit of loneliness that has opened inside you with a kiss from a stranger. You do just that as someone else pulls you in, letting their drunken lips taste yours, red lipstick meeting your black ones.

You have no idea that while you forget your inhibitions, the person whose attention you want most is watching from the balcony…

———

Neo knew you were coming out tonight. He saw you getting ready through your webcam, and broke down and checked your IM’s to see where exactly you would be. That’s why he’s standing here, holding some kind of red liquid he doesn’t even really want to drink in a cheap black goblet. He leans his elbows on the balcony’s edge, looking down at the dance floor, watching as your lips connect with another’s. A part of him is pissed seeing this kind of behavior. He wants you all to himself, that much he has come to understand. The other part of him is turned on by watching your form move, tight black latex dress holding your curves better than any dance partner, the color glistening under the red lights.

Neo knows what he has to do. He has to get your attention, but he was never a good dancer. Or at least, he had never tried, he should say. This type of crowd was a place he had never been invited to before you, so the idea of going down there, working his way through the sweaty bodies, until he could plant himself there to grind against your lovely form, was a nightmare. He tried not to let his nerves get to him, instead watching you.

Despite initial jealousy, he knows he can’t be mad since you two aren’t officially dating, nor have you been on an official date whatsoever, no thanks to him. He was the one who got scared, who got too close to your flame that the warmth frightened him off. What could he expect from you? To have you wait forever? You were never the type, that much was easy to see. Instead, Neo finds himself appreciating that you kept doing what you do, being yourself in face of his rejection. It was really quite sexy actually.

He watches as you’re sandwiched between two other women, screaming out the lyrics to Love My Way by The Psychedelic Furs, full of life and laughter. Neo considers leaving, not ruining your night, letting you have fun with people your own age and all but forgetting about him besides the hacking projects you two complete together. Even that, he could try to turn away from, if it meant you more happiness. It was clear how down the whole situation had made you, too many nights spent all alone in your room, too many nights coming home early when you should have been out.

Letting you go would be the right thing to do.

But Neo has never done the right thing when it comes to you.

———

Your fair share of drinks have been bought for the night, and you feel the world around you move hypnotically. Your thoughts are lost in heavy bass and droning music, songs that you love coming on so you can shout your heart out without shame. You had almost forgotten that hole in your heart that had been consuming you the past few weeks.

That was until you felt a new pair of hands snake around your hips, fingers enjoying the feeling of the latex on your dress. You grind into the stranger as you have been doing, letting them feel your ass against them. To your surprise, they react differently than the other club patrons have been to such a move. Usually, you were being fondled and groped deeper when you invited it in such a way, but instead, the fingers of this stranger linger, slowly moving down your dress to touch your exposed thighs, almost marveling at how soft your skin feels there. Everything was perfect until you turned to see who this unusual, mysterious stranger was, your drunken eyes going wide with the sight.

There, in his best gothic attire(which wasn’t saying much), stood Neo. You looked into those dark eyes of his and could see there was caution there as well, as if he was unsure of how you would react to finding out your dance partner for the last minute or so was him.

“What are you doing here?” You blurt out over the speakers, confusion bringing your thin eyebrows together.

“Only place I knew you frequented.” He responded plainly, walking a bit as if to offer to find a better place to speak, knowing that a talk was in order.

You watch as he begins to move through the crowd of writhing bodies, and for a second you consider not following, letting him go after how cruel he’s been to you. Instead, you stomp after him on your platforms, wobbly after so many drinks.

You feel frustrated as he moves from you, making you physically chase after him now, not to mention ruining your night of fun away from thoughts of him by simply just being here. You two finally make it to a nearby booth, a few discarded drinks still sitting there, but Neo moves them to the side. You sit across from him, your chest bared and waist tight from your latex dress, putting you on almost full display in front of him. You hope he doesn’t think you dressed this way just for him to see.

“Look, I think an apology is owed…” He begins, looking around as if he’s nervous to be seen talking to you.

You almost scoff in his face. Who does this guy think he is?

”Um, yeah, I think it is,” you say bluntly, the liquor making you madder than you probably have a right to be in this situation. “You totally ran out on me.”

Once again, the thought that you two aren’t officially dating, so he doesn’t technically owe you anything as such crosses your mind. You throw that thought to the wind, you’re too pissed to care about the ethics of it all.

Neo hears your words, the tone in your voice, and looks down, fiddling with a black napkin that was sitting nearby. He opens his mouth to speak, his shoulders moving towards his ears as if to protect himself. He doesn’t know what to say, that much is clear.

“I just…” He tries to get out, but nothing more passes through his soft lips.

“Just? Just what Neo? Didn’t care if it hurt that you left without saying anything? Didn’t even want to come check on me at all? Just want to order me around to help you with your hacking, which I still haven’t seen a lick of pay from by the way.” You add the last part as an insult to injury here, crossing your arms underneath your breasts with a huff.

Not checked on you? If only you knew…

Neo clears his throat and puts a hand into the inner pocket of his trench coat. He pulls out a small, black bag. He passes it over the expanding space between the two of you on the table, then taps his fingers against it.

You say nothing, taking the bag and opening it. It was filled with cash, and from your short look through, enough to cover your rent for a few months or more. It was fair, for the work you’ve been doing. Your eyes glance up to where he sits nervously across from you.

“So, what? You grind up on me in the club just to hand me what you owe?” You say with snark.

“Hey, I seem to remember it was you who was doing the grinding.” He pipes back, holding up his hands in defense.

And in that second, you’re drunk enough to laugh out loud at the look on his face and the whole situation. This seems to calm his nerves for a second.

“Well, thank you, I guess,” You finally say, getting ready to stand and leave, seeing as there isn’t much else to talk about if he isn’t willing to talk about it.

As your hand moves across the table when you try to leave, Neo’s large one wraps around your wrist.

“Wait,” He starts, deep eyes looking into yours, a sense of pleading coming from him.

“You have every right to be mad at me. I shouldn’t have left when I did, and I especially should have reached out to you for more than just work after that night. I’m sorry.” He closes his eyes as he talks, as he’s afraid to see what your face will betray to him from being so open.

You say nothing, watching his eyes open, unable to contain seeing your reaction for that long, and you crack into a smile.

“Okay, okay. You’re forgiven,” You sit back down across from him. “But, I want to add a condition to our agreement.”

Neo nods along as you talk, almost ready to agree to whatever terms and conditions you have so long as you’re not mad at him anymore.

“And that condition is?” He says with wide eyes.

”That condition is,” You drag the moment out, looking down at the table before the confidence to say what you want comes. “I want us to be friends.”

Neo blinks, then blinks again, as if he hadn’t heard you right.

“Friends?” He says, as if the word is a foreign concept.

“Yep,” You say with a nod, holding out a black manicured hand across the table. “Friends. I want us to be able to talk to each other whenever we like without all the awkwardness. And I would appreciate it if we could go and hang out with each other sometimes.”

Neo’s hand nervously slides into yours, as if he’s afraid of what he’s gotten himself into.

“Go out together, sure, we could do that sometime.” He says, then looks down at the table. “But why?”

Now, it’s your turn to be confused.

“What do you mean?” You tilt your head, curious as to why he would ask such a thing.

“I mean,” He sighs out, then looks around again before speaking, then leans in. “I mean, why do you want to hang out with me? I’m hardly the type you usually go for if your dance partners for tonight were any hint.”

“I don’t ask my dance partners to go out with me during the day…Usually.” You say with a laugh, trying to make him understand that what happens here isn’t as deep of a connection as he thinks it is.

“But, I’m like ten years older than you, at least. And I’m not super into all this,” He waves a hand to the environment around him. “Goth-y kind of stuff. Not that there’s anything wrong with it…”

“I’m sure there’s a baby bat hiding in you somewhere, Neo.” You tease him, leaning forward as you speak. “Besides, I don’t care if you like the stuff I like. I just want someone to talk to…”

You don’t know if it was the liquor that made you comfortable enough to say that last part, or if your overwhelming need for true connection had finally come to a head, but you’re glad you said it. After you did, Neo sank back into the booth, thinking the whole thing over, before leaning in once more.

“Okay. Friends. I think I can manage that…” he says with a smile, a genuine smile that sneaks up to his eyes, makes his ears move with a tinge of delight at the concept.

“Friends it is.” You hold out a hand, and he takes it once more. “Now, as friends, let’s get our ass out on that dance floor!”

You yell with glee as Neo lets you pull him along back into the crowd, anger in each other forgotten. The promise of having a genuine connection with someone in this city was enough to sedate both of you into a more blissful night.

Still, you couldn’t help but kick yourself a little. You knew you wanted to be more with him, knew that you touched yourself just last night thinking of him, his name falling off your lips sweet like honey. But there was no way you could admit that this early. You still had no idea if he felt the same way.

[initforthelolzz]

I know that this discussion has been made countless times at this point, but I might as well make it again.

Anyone who calls Yamato a woman doesn’t understand his character, there, I said it.

I recently stumbled across that side of the one piece fandom. As in, the side that gets violent over Yamato’s gender identity. I recently had the unfortunate privilege of stumbling across an entire YouTube comment section ranting and unanimously agreeing that Yamato is a woman and cussing out all the people who “head-cannon” him as a man.

Whelp. It’s rant time again.

For starters, I accept Yamato as a man. A trans man that doesn’t necessarily pass, but has a respected gender identity by all he associates with (as far as I’ve watched).

I have multiple trans friends and family members in my life, and as an LGBT individual myself any and all representation is a breath of fresh air. Especially in shonen anime, which is the sole form of media that I consume at this point.

I’ve already made my rant about the queer rep in Impel Down, and it’s about time I spun my spiel about the upsetting discourse over Yamato and his gender identity. Because that’s exactly what it is, upsetting.

When Yamato was first introduced he wore a mask and baggy clothing, he didn’t speak and was mysteriously called nothing other than “Kaido’s son.” He was hyped up for episodes on end before he finally joined the plot, and finally spoke. In the distinct voice of a woman.

Clearly, any and all gender norms have been obliterated at this point.

When Yamato finally took his mask off and declared himself Kozuki Oden, Luffy reacted how all of us did:

It’s exactly what all of us were thinking, right? How can that be Kaido’s son?

Then of course Yamato responds with this:

And we have our answer. Yamato is a trans man, and the entire Beast Pirates crew respects that. It’s incredible, isn’t it? I was blown away, you should have heard me squealing, it was ridiculous.

Luffy was a dick about it initially, but from the moment Yamato declared himself a man Luffy referred to him by his preferred pronouns for the rest of the arc.

“You can trust him.” “He’s going to help you.”

(Paraphrased. Didn’t dig up a screen shot cause I’m lazy. Took place when Luffy left Yamato with Momo and Shinobu on his way to the roof.)

Conversation over, right?! Wrong!!

Cause some people don’t like that. They see huge tits and refuse to accept this character as anything but a woman.

It doesn’t matter that Yamato is referred to using he/him pronouns by literally everyone, it doesn’t matter that Kaido consistently calls him his son, and it certainly doesn’t matter that Yamato personally declares himself a man.

They say that Yamato is biologically female; “it says it on the vivre card!” “A manga panel calls her Kaido’s daughter!” All things I found in that comment section, repeated again and again. Of course there’s the color spread covered in big boobs and bikinis, and that’s obviously proof that Yamato is a woman like all the rest. Because all of the color spreads happened in the cannon story and must be taken as hard fact.

I mean clearly.

Canon, 100%.

No question.

“Cause Oda literally said it himself…” right? Yeah. Sure. I’ll believe it when I see an SBS or a quote from the man himself.

I understand where they’re coming from, I really do. Yeah, Yamato looks like a woman. Yeah, boobs exist. Yeah, both voice actors are female.

But all of this evidence is strictly surface level, and these people ignore the personality of the character they claim to defend on top of the way they interact with other characters in the series.

They say that Yamato only looks up to Oden, that he’s not really a trans man, he’s just “larping.” Playing pretend.

They claim to be defending Yamato’s identity. They claim that those who call him a man are trying to “steal” the character and “gender her.” Yet… doesn’t their entire argument revolve around gendering that exact character?

By that logic, who gendered the character in the first place? I dunno, maybe the guy who’s wrote the dialogue? I mean maybe???

At the end of the day I can get ticked off all I want, but people will think what that think and all I can do is try not to let it affect me. However…I know transphobia when I see it. I see transphobic discourse within my own family. I know what that shit looks like. Refusal to respect pronouns. “Well you don’t look male.” “You were born female.” “It’s all just a phase, they’re confused.”

Sound familiar?

People can believe what that like, but it doesn’t mean that what they believe is right. It’s upsetting to see this argument so often. It’s all over the fandom, there’s no way to avoid it.

People claim to be defending the gender of this character, they act as if Yamato is being attacked by the evil gays who will stop at nothing to turn everyone trans. I’m not joking, that’s literally how they worded in that battlefield of a comment section.

Yamato’s gender expression is confusing, we know. That’s the point! Oda said fuck gender conformity all the way back in Alabasta, and he isn’t stopping now. What we see in Yamato is trans representation, but not a clean rep like Kiku, we have a man who doesn’t pass. Guess what? Not all trans people pass! That doesn’t make them any less trans, and your black and white perception of their gender doesn’t debunk their identity.

I genuinely don’t understand why there has to be so much discourse over this topic. Like you’re literally arguing with Luffy himself at this point. 😔🙄

[tropesaregoodsoup]

Pleasant Dream

CW: Mention of noncon drugging

Whumpee was sitting somewhere they hadn’t been in a long time. A expansive green field with splotches of color from curated gardens and wildflowers alike. They knew without looking their cottage was behind, and inside was caretaker, something else they had spent too long away from. But caretaker would be out with them soon, sitting on the grass, taking in the sun, the brightness, the warmth-

A feeling of ice washed over everything, and Whumpee was transported to a dark room. With loud harsh words pelted in their ringing ears. 

“Where is Superhero hiding!” 

They felt awful, exhausted and as they tried to get their bearings they realized they were tied down to a chair. A punch sent their head spinning, knocking them out of their initial panic and sending memories flooding back in. 

“Come on,” a rough hand grabbed their face, forcing them to look at the henchmen. They were still reeling from the harsh wake up call and it was all they could do to mumble a small ‘let go’, before being shoved back down. “You know how this works, 30 minutes, tell us or we go again.” Their body responded first, breath got faster, tears formed at the edges of their eyes and their heart was pounding against their chest. Then their mind caught up, kidnapped, beaten within an inch of their life, and when that didn’t work, hallucinations. Some devilish concoction that started with a bad trip and ended with a euphoric dream-state. A leather syringe case had three inserts empty now. The combination of sleep deprivation, starvation, and dehydration were not helping, and only getting worse over the last two days. 

“I don’t- I can’t” Their words came out slurred and mumbled. They were too drained to even brace as another punch connected, this time it was a hit to the stomach, causing them to double forward in an attempt to catch their breath. “Please st-” They waited for the next barrage of hits when a door opened.

“Villain wants to see them.” The voice from the door was matter-of-fact, they heard footsteps enter the room and managed to push themself upright in the chair to see another broadbuilt henchmen. 

“No…” Their words faded as they pulled away, and even the small movement had their head spinning. This did nothing to deter the henchmen as he unstrapped Whumpee from the chair. He tried to prop Whumpee up so they could walk, but it was quickly apparent that wasn’t going to happen, so instead, the henchmen opted to toss Whumpee over his shoulder. The compound might as well have been a maze, the delirium blurring the twists and turns of hallways and doors together. 

They ended up plopped down on a hard floor. Maybe stone. They couldn’t fight it anymore, couldn’t get up and try to escape before the door closed. Couldn’t tell them where Superhero was, even if they knew. Couldn’t stop the soft nudges in their side that felt like blunt needles. The only thing they could do was cry. 

“Alright, let's get you cleaned up.” 

The voice was gentle, and it made Whumpee cry. After so long without any semblance of caring hands or nice words, they could have filled up a pool.

They didn’t make any attempt to stop Villain as he started cleaning their wounds with a warm rag, starting with their face and neck. They put up a small resistance when Villain reached for their shirt, but soft touches, comforting words, and a week of pain, won out. Villain didn’t seem fazed by the plethora of long healed scars under the cuts and bruises inflicted by his own people, he just cleaned the fresh wounds.

 “We’ll have to talk about these runes at some point.” 

It was the only remark Villain made, besides waking Whumpee up whenever they fell asleep. They were so tired after all, and the rag was nice and warm, and the bandages stopped the harsh air from hitting their open wounds, and…

“Whumpee. Wake up Whumpee.” 

They didn’t need any help staying away once he started to stitch close the gashes along their arms and legs and back and torso. They would have thrashed, they would have hit and yelled and scratched and fought. If only they could, but everything was piling on and they could barely manage a groan. Whumpee couldn’t help but notice, after the stitches were done, that Villain was kinder than they thought he would be. He wasn’t particularly gentle when cleaning the wounds, but he was careful, better than the people that had ‘helped’ them in the past. It was surprising really, to think that the hands that had turned villages to ash in mere seconds were stitching wounds and applying bandages with such precision. He even gave them water and Whumpee drank greedily, only stopping when the bottle was empty. They were still in agonizing pain, but this was better than anything they’d had in the week they’d been here. Villain just stared at them and Whumpee felt their pulse leap as the question left his lips.

“So… Where is Superhero?”

They tried to drag their body away, easier now that their wounds had been treated and they had some water, but Villain had placed them in a corner of the room, there was nowhere to go. Fear took over as they started stuttering and fumbling over their words, giving more excuses, attempts at explanations.

“I- I can’t- I” A groan cut off their words. Their breaths were ragged, each one causing more pain, they could tell they weren’t ripping open any of the stitches at least, the blood would be visible past the bandages since they still hadn’t gotten their shirt back. “Please, d-don’t hurt me. I can’t- I’m sorry. Please. Please don’t hurt me anymore.” Whumpee was reduced to sobbing through jumbled words again, but Villain didn’t change their questioning expression.

“Can’t? Not won’t?” Villain reached out only to have Whumpee flinch away with more pleas. “That is an interesting distinction. Now come here, I’m not going to hurt you.” His words were sincere, although less gentle than when Whumpee was dropped on his floor. He reached out again, ignoring the flinch this time, and Whumpee was turned to face the wall as Villain inspected the intricate rune splayed across their back.

“I did say you and I were going to talk about these. Talk.” 

Whumpee was just relieved to hear a different question, even if it was still impossible to answer, even if it was through stuttered, slurred words.

“I c-can’t.” They tried not to think about the long and painful process of so many runes shoved into such a small space. Just one of the many marks across their body to remind them of their time with the Hero and her posse. 

“You can’t talk about the runes?”

Whumpee just shook their head, even after the care Villain had given them, talking was still an effort. 

“These runes stop you from talking about Superhero too then?”

A nod.

“And these scars?” Whumpee shuddered as Villain dragged a hand over the largest one, a jagged scar that dragged diagonally across their back from waist to shoulder. There was a pause before Whumpee could answer.

“They um… They w-wanted to make sure I-I told them everything.” More memories jamming their way to the forefront of Whumpee’s tired mind. Some heroes they were. 

“Mmm…” Villain contemplated. “If I removed this rune, you would be able to tell me where Superhero is.” Whumpee was filled with an odd mix of dread and hopefulness, it wasn't a question, but Whumpee still responded.

“Yes.” It was broken and whispy, but it seemed to be the right answer.

“Okay then.” Villain got up, pulling Whumpee with him. They just slumped against Villain, still unable to stand, and darkness hiding the edges of their vision. “I need a clear view of the rune for this to work, so you will need to sit over there.” Villain pointed to what looked like a crossover of a bench and an easel. “But first I need to know what the rune does. Think you can manage that?” But Whumpee could barely manage nodding. The emotions were washing over them in confusing waves, and their vision went completely dark before gravity shifted and exhaustion finally took them.

Pt.2

[rainbowfey]

Day 15: Emergency, Confession, Adventure

@flufftober

BANG!

Kushina flinched and stopped dead in her tracks when she heard a loud thump, followed by the sound of something shattering into pieces.

“Oh no,” she murmured, her eyes closed shut as if she could make it unhappen if only she longed for it enough. “No, no, no!”

Even though she still felt the burning sensation where her hip had collided with the cupboard when she rushed past it, she still held on to the silly hope that the sound didn’t come from what she thought. Everything inside her urged her to ignore what had happened and just pretend like everything was fine but the grown up inside her shut that down quickly.

With a sigh, Kushina opened her eyes. Even though she dreaded the sight that would inevitably unfold behind her, she slowly, very slowly turned around. Still intently ignoring the ground in front of her feet, she let her gaze wander over the now bare cupboard. A dark spot on the lighter wood told of the vase that had been standing there for what felt like an eternity. And when Kushina couldn’t stall it any longer, she took a glance at the ground – that ground that was covered in a myriad of colorful smithereens that had once been a pompous vase.

“Oh no,” she whispered again, slowly sinking down to the ground. Her hands hovered over the fragments as if she could piece the vase back together by sheer willpower but of course, the broken bits remained entirely motionless.

Minato had always warned her that one day, she’d knock over something important while rushing through the house but as always, she had blown him off. ‘You’re exaggerating, it’ll be fine’ she had said and she had fully believed in that. Of course, Kushina did know that she was like a whirlwind but she had always prided herself on still being careful and dexterous. That she indeed occasionally knocked over some things did not do harm to that since it had always been rather minor stuff like a box of tissues or maybe a cup that she had always managed to catch in time.

But this time, she had messed up and tremendously so. The big vase with its flamboyant colors had been looming over their hallway for longer than the entire duration of their relationship and Kushina knew fully well how much this vase meant to Minato. Considering that he had even proudly presented the vase to his parents whenever they had visited them, Kushina now realized with horror that it might have been even more important to him than she had initially thought.

Her heart started beating faster at that thought and she nervously tugged at her sleeve, examining the smithereens in front of her. Before she could form a better plan, her brain had already taken over. She hurried to the storeroom, grabbed a dustpan and brush and before she knew what was happening, she had already knelt down and started sweeping up the broken bits, carefully throwing them into a bucket.

When Kushina was finally done, the floor looked almost spotless. The now empty cupboard however seemed to stare at her, silently reminding her of her guilt. She gave the bucket a nervous glance. First, she had planned on disposing of the wreckage right away, but she had stopped herself just in time. It was almost an instinct to try to hide her mistake but she knew Minato well enough to know that he’d be even more disappointed in her if she tried to lie to him and play it off. Matters were further complicated by the fact that there was no other reasonable explanation for a big vase to just disappear than what had just happened. Especially since nobody in their right mind would steal this monstrosity for their own homes, not a vase as ugly as this one. And even more important, she absolutely did not want to lie to Minato. Thus, she had no other choice than to wait until he arrived at home and tell him the truth.

Kushina sighed deeply and set the bucket aside so that Minato wouldn’t see it before she had the chance to talk to him. Feeling increasingly nervous, she scurried to the living room and sat down on the sofa. She only managed to sit still for a couple of seconds though before her tension took over again. She shot up, unable to sit any longer, and started pacing up and down. Again and again, her gaze wandered to the door, anxiously waiting for the knob to move. After a while, she managed to calm herself down. Minato wasn’t the type to get angry, in fact she couldn’t even imagine him being mad at her at all. But he would certainly be sad and maybe even disappointed and this thought stung even more. Her fingers twitched nervously until she clenched her fists. And right when she was about to turn around again, she heard something at the door.

Kushina stopped dead in her tracks, her heart beating way faster now. Almost paralyzed, she watched as the door slowly opened and revealed Minato whose cheeks were red from the cold wind outside. His blonde hair looked a bit disheveled and suddenly, she felt the desperate urge to hug him and bury her face in his shoulder. She nervously wriggled about on the sofa, barely holding herself back. She must have made a noise while doing so because Minato lifted his head and peered curiously into the living room, fighting to open his jacket. When he saw her, his face lit up and he smiled at her in surprise.

“Kushina! I thought you’d already have left when I came back,” he said, his voice full of warmth. But when she didn’t return his smile, his face took on a concerned expression, his fingers still fumbling with the unruly zipper. “Are you alright? You seem worried.”

Kushina sighed. She had already assumed that Minato would quickly figure out that something was wrong but she had hoped to buy herself another couple of minutes to gather her courage. She slowly stood up and walked towards him. He gave her an asking look but she avoided his gaze. She carefully freed the zipper that had gotten stuck on the fabric and helped Minato slip out of his jacket.

“Thanks,” he said, sounding relieved, and put the jacket on a coat hanger. After he had taken his shoes off, he came up to her and gave her a peck on the cheek, his lips feeling cold after being outside for a while.

She gave him a half-hearted smile in response and he paused. With one eyebrow furrowed, he grabbed her hands and gently made her look at him. “What’s the matter, Kushina?”

His blue eyes were full of concern when he looked at her and her heart felt heavy. She knew that she couldn’t delay telling him any longer. Her skin tingling under his gaze, she led him to the sofa and they both sat down next to each other.

“I … I need to tell you something,” she said, each word feeling heavy with guilt.

Minato gave her hands a soft squeeze and nodded, listening attentively.

Kushina plucked up her courage and took a deep breath, still avoiding to look at him. “Remember the vase your mom gifted to you?”

Minato tilted his head, looking at her a bit surprised. “Of course, I do. You’re talking about the one on the cupboard in the hallway.”

She nodded slightly and finally lifted her head to look at him. “I accidentally broke it,” she confessed, “I am so, so sorry, Minato.”

For a moment, he stared at her in bewilderment and she feared for the worst. She could already envision the disappointment in his face and voice and mentally prepared herself for it. When Minato suddenly moved next to her, she flinched – and stared at him wide-eyed, when he suddenly burst out into laughter. His whole body started trembling with laughter and Kushina’s jaw dropped when she saw tears forming in his eyes.

“Minato,” she squeezed out, almost getting a little worried herself. “Are you … are you okay?”

He nodded, still laughing and without a warning, he pulled her into a tight embrace. Even though she had no idea what was going on, Kushina thankfully hugged him back. It took him a moment to calm down and he was still chuckling when he let go of her.

“I’m sorry,” he said with a big grin. “I’m just … you looked so guilty and all I could think of was ‘finally’!”

Kushina stared at him. “Finally?” she repeated slightly incredulous, feeling like as if she had missed something very important. “What do you mean?”

He smiled at her, his eyes glistening with amusement. “Well, I’ve been waiting for this day to come,” he said. “I hated that vase!”

“You … what?!” Kushina stammered, now entirely baffled. “But I thought you loved it!”

Minato furrowed an eyebrow. “That horrible thing? My love, haven’t you looked at that monstrosity? How could anyone except for my mom think this was a beautiful vase?”

Even though she still felt as if she had been transported to an alternate reality, Kushina couldn’t stifle a chuckle at Minato’s honest indignation. “It was pretty ugly,” she admitted, “But I still thought it was important to you.”

Minato’s face turned a bit more serious and he shrugged a bit helplessly. “I mean, after all it was a gift from my mom and I didn’t want to snub her by refusing it. But otherwise, I didn’t like the thing one bit.”

A wave of relief surged through Kushina’s body and she allowed herself a deep sigh. “I was so nervous to tell you,” she spouted without thinking about it.

All of a sudden, Minato’s expression turned earnest and he grabbed her hands again. “You never ever have to be nervous to tell me anything,” he said emphatically. “I don’t ever want you to be scared to talk to me!”

His blue eyes were full of concern and affection and Kushina’s heart skipped a beat. She gently freed one of her hands and softly stroked his hair. “I wasn’t scared. I just didn’t want to disappoint you.”

He shook his head determinedly. “I wouldn’t be!”

For a moment, Kushina took in his beautiful face. Then she leaned forward and gave him a peck on tip of his nose and smiled. “You do know that I love you to the moon and back, right?”

Minato beamed at her and nodded. “I do and it makes me the happiest man in the whole world!” She chuckled and let herself sink back against the backrest of the sofa, still holding his hand. “What are we going to tell your mom though when she visits again?”

Minato grimaced. “Ah, I forgot about that,” he groaned. “We could tell her that …”

Kushina grinned and shrugged. “Yeah, that’s the problem. She won’t take any excuses. And it’s also gonna be the first thing she notices when she visits.”

Minato nodded in agreement, his forehead wrinkled thoughtfully. “She did mention something a while ago,” he said slowly. “Something about a wonderful potter somewhere close to the border.”

Kushina bolted up and looked at him curiously. “You mean a potter that might sell vases similar to that one?”

“Yes. Might be worth a try to visit him and see what he sells,” Minato said pensively, giving her an asking look. “It would be quite the adventure though. We’d have to cross the river and that’s gonna be rather tumultuous after all that rain.”

Kushina grinned at him. “Well, the day is still long and I’m always up for an adventure. Why don’t we leave right now and see for ourselves?”

For a split second, Minato just stared at her but then he laughed to himself. “Energetic as always, I see. I suppose we could do that.”

Kushina got up and held out her hand to him, a big smile on her face. “Then what are you waiting for?”

[freebooter4ever]

Are the lines on your drawings stylistic choices or are they measurement/guiding lines? Either way, they are cool, but just wondered. I dont understand drawing at all, might as well be a magic spell to me. I was looking at the pencil (?) sketch of Malkin with the cheesecutter hat on.

i, uh, definitely did not google 'cheesecutter hat' until after i saved out these images. :/ sorry about that. if you'd like the other one broken down, i can do that too lol. my reading comprehension when im tired is kinda lazy i just saw 'cheese' and imediately thought 'omelette'. SO here's the 1) initial sketch, 2) 'clean' sketch, and 3) final lines for the omelette boy drawing instead:

also i have had a cumulative of about 9 ish hrs of sleep total for the past two days so keep that in mind for if this explanation makes no sense, its not my fault. :( anyway! the way i draw definitely has changed over the years but currently im really trying to focus on the line i "see" rather than the one that is actually "there". i've been applying this to my writing for years (story vs happening truth) and you know it never occurred to me that i could do it in my drawings too till like...a few years ago. in general these lines seem to form the planes of the subject. if you google 'stanford bunny' you can find an easy example of a 3D surface turned into triangles. I do this too - see things in relative triangle proportions, except i've been doing it long before i knew how computers worked. i cant begin to tell you how long d*sney and cartooning's obsession with round building blocks of anatomical structure fucked with my brain until i finally decided i could cast that teaching aside completely.

ANYWAY sorry off subject again. so we have these sketchy under lines, and usually as im trying to find the proportions and form of the subject these lines end up being where the light/shadow hits. here i saved out the 1) 'flat colors', 2) the 'light', and 3) the 'shadow' parts on their own (i lightened the background for the 'shadow' so its easier to see):

the light is like four or five 'overlay' layers of pale yellow/orange. you can see how each of these layers follow one of those sketchy lines i did initially. and the same with the shadow but instead its a dark red color set to 'multiply' for each layer. and when you combine everything together you get:

some bullshit :). anyway you know that anniversary edition of beauty and the beast that featured the version previewed to nyc audiences in 1990 with the glen ke*ne sketchy keyframe animation of the beast's transformation? i watched that - must have been sometime after i graduated college - and i felt robbed that THAT version was never presented as a final piece. the 'unclean' drawings had so much more life and movement and intensity to them. tldr i like the messy lines, i hate 'inking' with a passion (HATE. IT.), and when i finally allowed myself to stop giving a fuck drawing became way more interesting. but my art is shit and i will never be glen k*ane so i dont really feel like the best advocate for this "style". alas. there was this one artist on tumblr who i fucking loved whose sketches were SPECTACULAR but the asshole racists in the m*c*ha*nz*o fandom bullied her off tumblr and ive never been able to find her art anywhere else since. she was also very negative about her 'unclean' sketches and it made me so sad. there was also this other artist whose sketches were awe inspiring but all she drew was p*rn and well...we all know what happened on tumblr in december 2018.

also i 100% stole the lighting scheme from The Bear which is currently one of the most gorgeous shows on television right now in my opinion

im really really sorry if this makes no sense, if im feeling motivated maybe i'll try again when my brain is fully functioning but with the actual 'cheesecutter hat' doodle ^_^

[brick-a-doodle-do]

I'll try and keep this shorter....maybe

I'm not sure what scene you mean I have planned but I probably do, except that would be a spoiler~

okokokokok

Irzayn has three different abilities...one with black mana (something no-one else has in any way shape or form), gold mana (healing), and red mana (blood magic)! The black mana is actually a living shadow. His shadow is alive. At first it has no real mind of its own, being very limited, but eventually becomes something VERY different and even stronger. He can teleport, store things, attack, make his steps completely silent, become intangible (slight spoiler except I'm not gonna explain the how :P)...that's all just in his shadow ability, which is his strongest. Healing is next--his healing can restore even lost limbs, including on himself, but for the most part when he's using it on himself his healing is limited to how well his natural healing would've been, which is how he ends up with scars from Vara.....

Varazae is so desperate not to say anything because he fell in love with Irza and is also scared the villain might kill him. It's revealed by pure accident one day because not long after Irza discovers Vara is Quickvine and for a short time both think they know something the other doesn't until it ends up spit out (in a way you'll have to find out~!). And actually, Vara isn't a pure blood either which would put him in danger if it was ever found out bc he's a rare mix.

As for his dragon form...someone does bc several people triggered it...and obv Ezephr was an extremely important trigger for it! His powers do become much stronger, namely his previously weak blood magic, which includes hypnosis and controlling blood. But why wait for that form? Irzayn destroys the city with a SINGLE attack before he's ever in a dragon form, and it's all Vara's fault (the poor cat boy didn't know what he was doing, he got falsely accused and Irza wouldn't listen when he tried to explain)

The heart-to-heart IS initiated by Voidshire (And I don't typically nickname him Void bc he names his shadow Void, which is the origin of his villain name--he got his name because someone heard him scream at Void, saying that name, to save him. Quickvine calls him ghosty and Voidshire calls him Viney). But it's one of the times he truly falls for Quickvine.

There's a hero association. The idea is bnha based but NOT the same for many many spoiler reason I shall not say. There are hundreds of heros in all cities and you can sign up once you're 12. The problem is that they won't let certain races even take the exams, they're turned around immediately.

His dad...is a HUGE spoiler for this story, so all I'll say is that he got blood magic from his dad and that the hero association is tied to both his sudden disappearance before Irza's birth (He doesn't even know he HAS a child), and the discrimination against dragonkin.

Now to Ezephr!

His hair color is natural, he doesn't hide who he is, and he doesn't need to because he ain't on record, which is part of his backstory. No costume. He has no friends and doesn't want any...he's like a yandere that kills his obsession immediately, not after thinking he's betrayed. He is insanely close to god level because of his power alone and would 100% reach a tie in a fight with one. His powers DO have an origin, which is part of his past. Lovely.

Kidnapping happens constantly and is what made Irza fall in love with Quickvine--they were in an argument/fight one day when Quickvine tracked him down yet again (Vara can tell where or when Irza uses his shadow immediately bc of how his races mixed so perfectly~!) But Ezephr kidnaps both of them and traps them inside a mountain maze where Voidshire has magic blockers all over his body but Quickvine doesn't bc Ezephr saw him as being weaker than an ant. Well, they were in a cage, but Vine got them both out and helped find the way out. There was a TON of arguing as they went through, where Vine kept refusing to take the magic blockers of bc he knew better than to trap himself with a villain stronger than him.

Also Irza knew about the stalking and obsession extremely quickly bc that angel is creepy. He can avoid being found out because of his shadow's special nature.

Ezephr's wings are red because he fell from grace, which started to turn them to a color similar to his hair, but then he murdered people and their blood soaked into his wings and skin, eventually becoming a part of his features and led to him developing a new power, which is bladed wings...he can send sword like feathers at people that cut metal. His other power, put simply...no magical attack can reach him. None. Nothing otherworldly. Only something physical can ever hope to reach him, but then you have to deal with his absolutely INSANE physical power. Irzayn beats him twice--once because Ezephr let him, and the next? Irza finally achieved the strength he'd always wanted.

His backstory? Is extremely complicated. Uhmmmmm....simply put, he was tortured since he was a newborn, forced to fight to the death many times and if he didn't kill his opponent or lost he wouldn't be fed. He was essentially taught that living creatures have no value. then when he was 12, he killed everyone in the research facility (super important spoiler mention) after developing a power, and escaped. Since he hadn't been taught how to be a person...he did what he did know, and slaughtered an entire city when he was 14.

Btw, angels in this world develop a power based on how they grew up. Their deepest desire becomes theirs, basically. Makes you wonder what invulnerability says about him...

ALSO

Something worth mentioning but no-one asked, Vara can control plants, but he can also talk to them. He's half sprite which basically means he is genderless (Or hermaphrodite but unlike a sprite he doesn't change forms for that), but wants to be known as a guy...and his other half is a cat person. Uhm. Like a cat walking around like we do and has the intelligence we do? They're also about the same size as humans and there's more than just cats. But this made him look like a beastman (person with animal ears, claws, and tail), so he went with it. He has three abilities too but they aren't mentioned enough. 1. He has sprite, so he can manipulate/communicate/grow plants at will. 2. Physical enhancement, which isn't strong and he uses as a trump card. 3. Sprite's ability to use illusions. He hides that he actually has furry hands and feet with this power since it would give him away.

I splurged. Maybe too much. I got excited. Took me an hour to put down correctly. Hope it's not too long @~@

Any other questions I can hopefully manage to answer shorter instead of smashing it all in one ask? I'm loving sharing this, thank you for reading it.....

I didn't mean to type this much tho

3D!!!! THIS IS THE SPLURGE EVER!! I LOVE IT >:DDD

"i'll try to keep this shorter" casually writes 1.2k words /lh /nmay

okay SO

ohh i see, are these all from his father? does his mother have any abilities (i feel like we covered this already but i can't recall–) orr is it all kinda mixed together, like i have curly hair despite no one in my family having it—is it like that in a sense where some random gene picked up in irza and he's acquired extra powers nobody in his family really knows about? also some extra pointless worldbuilding, other than his father, is he close to any of his other family members? are any of them even alive? i know with oc making the urge to make their family dead is reallll tempting lmaoo

oh oh oh also abt the shadow being alive thing, is that something irza can control, or is it just....completely free to do what it wants? if that's the case, a. does the shadow have a name and b. does the shadow like irza and/or does it help him in any ways?

pff i guess i should've read a little further– well then, i guess i'm still curious about both questions even though it was kind of explained to me dsfhbghfs

i gotta say those scars are pretty cool from what i remember,, is there any special occasion where he got them from vara or was it just a general bad occurence type thing?

ahh how does the blood magic work? did we already talk about that and i'm just completely forget about it? is it a...spoiler? :0

i gotta ask, are you going to likeee make a book out of this? write it on ao3? i'm pretty curious how far you're going to take this story !!!!

anddddd about vara's powers, him being a half-blood and all, how did he get his powers? (again i feel like we covered his parent's already but that may have been for something ENTIRELY different. my brain is not being helpful atm 😭) also vara is male right? i know for one post you used she so i used she but now we're back to he and i'm just kinda confused— not ur fault at all btw i totally get if it was a typo i just need clarification before i go misgendering our cat boy,,,

destroyed the entire city as in...destroyed the entire city? how the hell did they recover from that??? also i wonder if they'd blame vara or irza for that, because both seem responsible DSHGDS

OHHH i guess i could've read this over again before answering that other ask of yours– dshsfds void is fitting lmao

awwfdndjsgdsj ghosty and viney i love the hero & villain duo have cute lil nicknames, it always warms my heart >:D (and esp for these two!!! <33)

12 jeeeeez that is young for a hero!!! ughhhh that sucks, hero committees are usually useless anyways 😔 other than that obvious racism, how do they treat the heroes? are we talking the hero committee in clinic or something infinitely nicer? do they keep patrol on their heroes or generally just let them live?

ah, i see! well i'm excited to eventually learn about him, as long as it may take :] i'm happy with that little bit of info tho >:)))

DFSHFAK YIPPEEEE I LOVE HIM AND HIS KNIFE WINGS!!

goddd he sounds like such a bad person, i need to get attached to him immediately! :DD also that is some bomb natural hair, the color is stunningggg

so despite it being natural is it natural natural as was he born with it or does he dye it? if it's natural natural, is there a reason for it being that color? bloodline stuff? cause that sure as hell isn't a normal color senhgjfsd

huhh that sounds like an...interesting way of living, always being in a state where people fear you. honestly i'm surpised that he's so open about it. i totally get it and it fits him, but even then, with that little humanity he still has in himself, i'm surprised he doesn't have like at least some alter ego to get away from the stress and attention of being a(n almost) god.

ohhhhh more origins to learn,,, hypeeee!!! :0

ah yes kidnapping >:)

ah yes the good ol' kidnapping love story >:D

so when quickvine tracks irza, why is he doing that, if this was before vara fell for irza?

aaaa that sounds like such a fun bunch of scenes! honestly the ones where two rivals have to work together are always top-tier. like they know each other well enough to have the most banter-filled-hit-the-spot arguments. it's so satisfyingggg !!!!!!!!!!!!!

angel?? have we covered that before?? eze is an angel?

oh also another quick question about irza, is the shadow thing tiring? like does it drain him the longer he uses it? is there like...a recommended time to stay in it or smth?

okay there's no one power that can beat ezephr, but if people were to liiiiike...team up, would that theoretically overpower eze?

YOOOO THE STRENGTH HE ALWAYS WANTED? ELABORATE IF POSSIBLE??????? DOES THAT MEAN LIKE DRAGON OR SMTH?? 3D U CAN'T LEAVE ME AT THAT!!! >:VVV

😭😭😭 i'm going to be reluctantly answering the rest of this ask /j

oh yes there it is, the youngling torture that leads to a god complex!

mhm yes now i feel bad for him– backstories are the way to redeem a bad character. he doesn't really kill because he wants to, does he? there's got to be a more buried reason....he was raised to be completely emotionless, and was left to conquer the city at 14, a still very immature age if you think about it in retrospect. there's no way he was able to find flaw in what he was taught because there was no one there to teach it to him in the years where it mattered. poor guy :'(

what are his powers again? i want to over-analyze the fuck out of ezephr

ooh talking to plants, that's a power i haven't heard of!! :0

and gotta love those cat hybrids <33

okokok how tall is vara? i just have to know >:D,,,,, also follow up to that, how tall is irza? how about eze?

oooo these are all such cool powers! can i assume that vara only uses the physical enhancement just for when it's really needed? i've heard lots about irza, i'm curious about vara's side of things! i can assume he's more vulnerable and definitely weaker. does that mean that irza is typically winning their fights or does vara just get lucky? must know, this splurge was so long but i'm so ready for more!!! :000

[roguelov]

The One That Almost Got Away

Summary: Eddie spots a motorcycle at the grocery store and has to know the owner. But, he simply didn't expect you. With one glance, his world flips upside down. You pull him in and he begins to wonder where you have been all his life

Word Count: ~5.5k

Reader: Gender Neutral

Warnings: None, mostly fluff, mutual pining

Notes: For plot sake Eddie did fail his senior year once

The shiny leather seating and polished exterior, despite its midnight color, twinkled in the late afternoon sunlight, its moderately bulky form was to compensate for the engine, the horsepower, and all of it was new. Nearly fresh off the line, new. The pristine motorcycle stood in the middle of the parking lot at the local grocery store, snugged firmly in between average sedans. However, Eddie’s eyes could spot it a mile away.

It didn’t matter where he was going initially, he dropped his previous task in search of the owner of this bike. He practically sprinted into the grocery store.

With a basket in hand, you strolled down the aisle. Your head swiveled left and right trying to find the few things you needed. A sleek helmet clipped on your backpack gently bounced with each step.

“Hey, is that your -“

You peered over your shoulder. A curly haired man stopped mid-sentence. His brown doe eyes widened as his mouth hung open. You cocked your head then looked back in front of you to see no one else. You completely turned around to face him as he shook himself out of some odd trance.

“Right, uh, sorry,” he cleared his throat then jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “I, uh, I think I saw your bike out front.”

You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

He licked his lips. “Um, I … I just wanted to say it looks like a cool ride.”

You smiled, laughing once through your nose. His heart skipped a beat. “Is that all?” You asked.

He nearly melted into a puddle at your voice.

Of course, it wasn’t. At first, he wanted to know who was driving such a beauty since he always wanted one. And the second he saw the helmet, he knew it had to be you. He already had a string of questions on how it rode, the mechanics behind it, the type of power and speed, all of it for him to catalogue and consider when - yes, when - he was going to purchase his own bike.

Then you turned around.

All his questions, every word, died in this throat. A heavy weight pressed on his tongue as his brain, ironically, short-circuited.

You were breathtaking.

And a face he never saw before.

He swallowed, forcing down the nerves. “Eddie.”

You blinked, almost in mild surprise.

“Sorry,” he shook his head now remembering your question, “yes - wait, no. No, I, uh, wanted to say - uh hi.”

He smiled. Adorable and charming. Faint wrinkles crinkled around his eyes revealing how often he did such a simple gesture.

“Hey,” you replied then pointed your finger at him. “Eddie?”

He froze for a second, stuck between shock and awe at hearing how his name rolled off your tongue. “Uh, yeah?”

“Nice to meet you. (Y/N).”

“(Y/N).” He repeated once out loud then a dozen times in his head.

He continued to stare unsure what to do or say next. You smiled, shaking your head. “Not a man of many words, are you?”

He snapped himself out of your trance, once again. “I think my friends might disagree.”

“Really?” You teased.

He chuckled, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “Not often you meet someone like yourself.” He tossed you a cheeky smile.

You snorted. “Smooth, I’ll give you that.”

He shrugged, but happy to finally have his voice again.

“Well, unfortunately, I have some shopping to do.” You lifted up your empty basket and returned it to your side. “But, it was nice meeting you.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure, sorry for bothering you.”

He turned away to leave when you spoke up.

“Maybe someday I’ll give you a ride if you want.”

He whipped around like lightning. You almost wondered if he got whiplash or nauseation at that speed. His eyes were the size of dinner plates as a giddy smile twitched on the corner of his lips. “Really?”

You shrugged, smirking a bit. “Maybe.”

He laughed once and pointed at you. “I’ll hold you to that.”

You stared. Transfixed by him. Half a beat filled the silence when you said, “Okay.” Immediately, you walked over to him, stepping directly into his personal space. He almost took a step back. Heavy, on almost. His smile stretched wider and more manic as his nerves rose.

You, who kept this odd cool exterior, raised a pinkie between the two of you. Eddie’s eyes fell to the finger. His eyes slowly traced up your arm back to your face. You smiled, a small gentle one, as you quirked a brow waiting for him. He licked his lips then hooked his pinkie around yours. His rings flickered in the overhead fluorescent store lights.

“I promise one day I’ll give you a ride,” you stated while looking into his massive brown eyes.

Before Eddie could respond, you quickly dropped your hand, threw him a sly wink, and went back to the necessary grocery shopping. Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson was left stunned into silence, for a third time, with his pinkie still raised in the air. He could only manage a weak hum in agreement and numbly walked out of the store, unable to wrap his head around anything that transpired.

Who was that, was the one question that ran rapidly in his mind for the rest of the day.

What neither of you expected was for your next encounter to be only a few short days later.

On a cool Saturday afternoon, needing some solitude, Eddie strolled through the trailer park, into the woods, and down the road to a little oasis: a rundown playground no one goes near these days. He flopped onto a rusty swing and pulled out his cassette player. He put on his headphones, turned up the volume to almost the highest setting then hit play.

After a long shift at work, you drove endlessly, taking random turns and twists for a more scenic route. The racing wind drowned out any thoughts and the chill of it kept you present. You made another turn. Up ahead, a playground stood abandoned and practically dilapidated. Merry go around fallen over, a seesaw broken in half, a rusted slide, and four swing only which two still hung upright. But, you supposed it was not completely abandoned since one person sat on one of the sad rusted swings.

You had to do a double take. Even though it was only the backside, you recognized the person from their hair alone.

You didn’t hesitate; you instantly pulled over and parked your bike.

You yanked off your helmet and strolled over. Eddie, however, was still oblivious; wrapped in his own world. He banged his head to the beat and his locks bounced along with him. From only a few feet back, you could almost perfectly hear the music and muffled lyrics. It was heavy, with an intense arrangement. Metal, if you had to guess.

You stood directly behind him watching as he played an imaginary guitar. His rings twinkled with every flick. A soft smile spread across your face. You reached over and tapped his shoulder.

Eddie, lost in his world, felt the jab and nearly jumped out of his skin. He whipped around now on his feet. His eyes darted around. And they landed at his side, to the other, and only, swing now filled. You stared up at him with your helmet in your lap.

You snickered under your breath, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Eddie ripped off his headphones letting them hang around his neck. He quickly shook his head, pausing his music. “No, no, it’s okay. I, uh, didn’t think anyone else knew about this place.”

“I didn’t. I was just riding around and saw you so I thought I’d pop over.”

He nodded, and plopped back down on the swing. “Right.”

“So, what exactly are you listening to?”

“Huh?” Eddie’s mind was still trying to catch up with you being here.

You pointed at your neck, gesturing where his headphones lay. “Music? What are you listening to?”

“Oh, uh, it’s metal.”

You hummed. “Can I take a listen?”

“Uh, sure, yeah.”

He pulled the headphones over his head and held them out. You carefully picked them up and adjusted them onto your head. Twisting on the swings, you faced each other. You leaned forward since Eddie still held onto the cassette player. You nodded ready. Turning down the volume a few notches, he pressed play.

Leaning into each other, you kept your gaze on the ground as the music flooded your ears. Eddie hesitantly watched. Nervous for some reason. Slowly, you bobbed to the beat. You lifted your head meeting his curious gaze. You smiled. He hid his smile as he mindlessly chewed in his fingernail.

You closed your eyes, rocking to the beat.

Eddie took the moment to soak you in. Like how the sunlight glided across your skin casting an angelic glow. How come he has never seen you before? Where have you been? You must have recently moved here, it was the only answer he could come to.

Opening your eyes, you removed the headphones. Eddie quickly pressed pause and returned the headphones back around his neck. “So?”

“I liked it.”

“That’s it? Just like it?”

You snorted. “Well, I haven’t listened to much of that genre before. It’s -“ you paused trying to find a way of explaining it -“it’s heart pounding. But, in the best way.”

He smiled excitedly. “Yes! Exactly! It’s why I love it and the lyrics when you really listen to them and -“ he groaned, unable to express how much he loves music.

You cocked your head in adoration as Eddie continued to ramble on. His outward appearance doesn’t truly match his personality. Outwardly, he wore dark clothing, a jean jacket vest with multiple patches, and spotted a few tattoos. Yet, he was bubbly, charming in a way, and fairly easy to talk with.

You interrupted his rambles, asking, “You have a band, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “Corroded Coffin.”

“Really?” Eddie unknowingly braced himself. “That’s awesome, and I love the name, it's pretty badass.”

Eddie stared at you in awe. “Uh, yeah, thanks. I mean we haven’t really played much besides in the middle school talent show years ago. Folks around here aren’t too keen on the music we cover.”

“No? Really?” Your voice dripped with sarcasm. “Hawkins not fully accepting people outside of the norm? Who would have thought?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, well, for now we just play at each other’s houses.”

“Well, maybe, one day you can play me a little ditty.”

“Ditty? A ditty?” Eddie leapt up onto his feet and twisted around standing directly in front of you. “Oh no, no, it will not be a ditty,” he grabbed your shoulders, “it will be a wonderful, magical song and performance that will -“ he light shook your shoulder which caused you to laugh -“shake your very soul. You will be changed forever.”

You smiled at him. “Really?”

“Really, really.” He threw you a cheeky wink and let go of you.

“You know from the sound of it, it’s like you’re trying to corrupt me,” you teased.

“Corrupt? Never. Convert? Maybe, just a little.” He smirked.

You chuckled. “And maybe I’ll let you.”

You stood up, glancing up at the sky. The sun was still out, but it was now becoming late afternoon. Time to head home. Your eyes fell to Eddie. “Do you need a ride?”

Eddie’s eyes widened and jumped over to your parked motorcycle then back to you.

“I did make you a promise.”

“Um, actually, I’m good.” He jerked his head down the road. “I’m not too far from here, and I don’t think I’m ready to cash in just yet.”

You nodded. “Well, whenever you are, I’ll be here.” You shoved on your helmet and flicked open your visor. “See you around, Munson.”

“Yeah, see ya,” he mumbled.

Eddie didn’t move as he watched you hop onto your bike, start it up, give him a quick nod, then beelined down the road at high speeds. It wasn’t until you were out of sight and when he couldn’t hear the deep rumble of your bike that he slapped his face with both hands. He groaned loudly, throwing his head back.

“Why now?”

His heart hammered in his chest. You brought on emotions he hadn’t felt in years. He only had a childhood flicker of this, but this was all-consuming. It was worse. So much worse.

And he wasn’t ready for it to end.

“No rides, period,” he swore to himself.

He didn’t know if you were just humoring him until he said yes, but he wouldn’t take the chance.

And from then on, you continued to meet on this same playground.

Eddie would wander almost everyday in hopes to see you. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. And it was the same for you. You would go out of your way riding down this road in hopes of spotting his iconic curls. But, like Eddie, some days worked while others were a waste that left an odd weight on your shoulders.

But, when times aligned, the two of you talked for hours.

It was mostly mundane things, along with Eddie carrying most of the conversation - which you didn’t mind. He talked about music, learning to play guitar, while he sprinkled in some knowledge of Dungeons and Dragons with other nerdy topics. And you quickly surprised him with your knowledge of a few nerdy things. He quoted Lord of the Rings and you fired another quote right back. You can still remember his awestruck expression as you simply shrugged saying, “I read.”

Eddie, at that moment, didn’t think it was possible to fall more in love with you. But, he did.

You also talked about motorcycles, and answered Eddie’s questions that he had stewing inside him since your first interaction.

But of course, it never lasted forever. So whenever it was time for either of you to leave, you always asked if he needed a ride. And Eddie always responded with a resounding no.

You would smile and end every conversation with “Alright, well, I’m here whenever you are ready.”

Finally, the day had arrived. Surprising both parties.

“Munson!’

Eddie climbed over the fence, narrowly avoiding falling directly onto his face. He didn’t hesitate, or dare look over his shoulder. He scrambled up on top his feet and darted away.

Of course.

Of fucking course.

Eddie was just having a day to himself, taking a stroll as he brainstormed a new D&D campaign. But, of course, three meatheads of the basketball team spotted him on the side of the road. One of them leaned out the window of the car throwing a crumbled takeout cup at them then spewed out a few nasty insults. Eddie, without thinking, immediately fired a few back. Now, with bruised egos, the jocks hopped out of the car and chased after Eddie through backyards and woods.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Eddie cursed to himself as he burst through the woods onto a dead street.

So, he ran.

It was his only plan.

He could hide in the woods. It sounded lovely, but seeing how the jocks were still coming after him, they would find him in seconds. He turned around and slowly jogged backwards as he searched for them. Maybe they stopped. Maybe they gave up. Maybe -

“Munson!”

Their voices echoed in the surrounding trees. Startled, he tripped over his feet landing on his back. “Fuck me,” he moaned to himself.

He pushed himself up, now sitting in the middle of the road. He was so wrapped up in his worries, desperate for a solution, he failed to hear the one barreling towards him.

Up ahead, the three jocks fumbled out the tree line. They whirled around until their sights landed on Eddie causally in the middle of the road. Eddie, filled with fear and adrenaline, began to crawl backwards.

“Need a ride?”

Eddie froze then spun around to see you on your motorcycle with your visor flicked up. A certain glint shimmered in your eyes.

“Munson!” Eddie flinched at his name. The jocks began their descent, not caring or acknowledging who you were. “I’m going to kill you when I get my hands on you!” One of them yelled.

Eddie didn’t need to be asked twice. He scrambled over to you and climbed on. Before he knew it, you took off your helmet and slid it over his curly mane. He stared back with those wide doe eyes. You snorted and clipped it on. “I only have the one on me, and I don’t want my passenger to get hurt, so safety first and all. “

“Munson!”

You nonchalantly glanced over at the three red faced jocks. Their strides now faster realizing their prey was getting away. You twisted back around and revved your engine.

“Hold on,” you shouted to Eddie. He instinctually leaned back gripping the edges of his tiny passenger seat. You huffed. Reaching behind you, you grabbed one of Eddie’s wrists and yanked him forward. You curled his arm around your waist. “Hold on,” you repeated more firmly.

He nodded, unable to speak, and slowly circled his other arm around your waist.

“Munson! Don’t think you can get away so easily!” One shouted as he started to run ahead of his friends.

“What did you do to piss them off?” You asked.

“Can we talk about this later?” His voice muffled by the helmet. Ignoring both of them, you revved your engine in taunt as the man sprinted closer. A manic smile spread over your lips. Eddie’s grip tightened. “Just go!”

You didn’t move, not until the man was almost an arm’s length away. With one foot still planted, you pressed on the gas and easily pivoted around the man who stumbled face first into the asphalt. You then floored it directly at the other two trying to catch up. Seeing you charge on your metallic steed, they jumped off to the side rolling into the dirt.

Besting them, you successfully drove off.

Eddie looked over his shoulder as the three jocks struggled to get up. He laughed, throwing his head back and flicked them off.

“Hands!” You shouted over the wind.

Eddie teetered for a second before wrapping his arms back around you and pressed his body firmly against yours. “You’re crazy!” He laughed.

“Who is really sane?”

Eddie couldn't stop smiling.

As the fear died down, he finally turned his attention to the whipping scenery; the forest on both sides that blurred into a single deep emerald green and to above where he watched the endless pale blue sky. The wind wiggled underneath his clothing giving him an exciting chill. Goosebumps rose over his skin but the warmth you radiated battled against them. His heart pounded in his ears, nearly drowning out the roaring engine. Before he knew it, he whooped and hollered. An appropriate response. He never felt such excitement before. He didn’t care where you were taking him, he didn’t care if you simply dropped him off on the side of the road, he simply never felt so alive until right now.

Eventually, the air shifted. Cooler, with a musty tang. The trees in the distance thinned as the pale blue expanded.

Lover’s Lake.

You pulled off to a dirt path, away from main parking, and followed it to an empty picnic table almost taken over by nature. Turning off your motorcycle, you kicked the stand out and planted both feet on the ground.

Eddie hopped off the bike and yanked off the helmet. Giving his hair a quick shake, he looked over at you. A smile still hasn’t left his lips. He wordlessly passed the helmet over and you took it and hooked it on the handlebars.

“So?” You tilted your head. “Did you like it?”

“Like it? Like it?” He paced around running his fingers through his hair. “It - It was awesome!” He faced you with that manic smile throwing his hands into the air. “Oh, and the way you dodged that one guy.” He mimicked your loud engine and swiveled on a dime before running up onto the table. “Then scaring the absolute shit out of the other two? It, uh, was just … amazing.”

You smiled up at him. “Thanks.”

He hopped off the table and pointed at you. “You are something.”

“In a good way?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he strolled up to you, “but I still can’t wrap my head around you.”

You got off your bike and stepped in close. Each of you wore the same intense smile, high off of adrenaline and nerves while this new wave of energy, one that sang a new different tune, crashed over you.

You stared at him for another half a second then skirted around him. “Why?”

Eddie whirled around watching as you sat on top of the splintered, worn down, table. “Just,” he gestured wildly trying to find his words, “how come I’ve never met you until recently? Where have you been?”

Maybe, he’ll finally get his answers.

“Here.”

“Always?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Yup.”

“But,” he walked up to you with his arms crossed trying to understand the enigma in front of him, “I’ve never seen you before.”

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?” He began to play with the ends of his hair.

You almost didn’t want to admit it. “We’ve had classes together.”

His arms fell to his side, dangling in shock. “What? No.”

“Yes, but I don’t blame you for not noticing me. I’m not one to make myself known and I usually just stick with my friends.” You pointed at your face. “This is just another face in the hundreds.”

“But - what?” He was dumbfounded. No, just no. He couldn’t believe it, practically refusing to. He couldn’t forget your face. Never. With one glance, you stole his breath. With one hum of your voice, you become his new favorite sound constantly playing on repeat. And yet, you said so. With such conviction and certainty. He spun around. Impossible. Then his eyes landed on your motorcycle. He definitely would have recognized it if he saw it around school.

“Your ride?” He pointed at it. “I never saw it at school.”

“Because I didn’t drive it to school.” You paused then added more. “And it was also a graduation gift … of sorts. Parents paid half and I paid the other half.”

“Wait … graduation?”

You nodded.

“You,” he pointed at you, “graduated? What? When? Did you graduate early? Like some special thing?”

You shook your head. “Last year.”

He blinked, almost unable to process it.

You rolled your eyes and poked him in the chest. “Maybe if somebody didn’t fail last year, you would have graduated too.”

It clicked.

His cheeks turned a soft rosy hue as he dropped his head, turning his attention on the ground. “Uh, yeah, well, school is dumb anyway.”

“Can’t argue there.”

“So, college?” He glanced back up at you holding his breath. It was a question, but more of a plea. A plea that you weren’t leaving anytime soon.

“Nah,” you shook your head. “Or at least not now, maybe in the future, but I’m not completely sure. Right now, I’m just working to get enough money under my belt before I even think about college and all that other stuff.”

He nodded, letting out a silent breath of relief. “Right, yeah, smart.”

You watched as he began to pace around in front of you. His mind desperately tried to comb through all of his memories of you and he still turned up empty. He groaned in frustration and flopped down on the bench. Arms folded in front of him, he dropped his head letting his hair cascading down his arms onto the table.

You snorted and twisted around on the table, sitting criss-crossed in front of him.

“I feel like a total douche for not noticing you before,” he muttered into the table.

“It’s okay, really. Everyone is in their own little bubble, so I don't blame you.”

“And somehow I still feel like shit.”

You bit your lip, unsure if you should tell him this, but it spilled out before you could stop it. “I tried to talk to you before.”

Eddie jerked his head up, his brows knitted together. “You did?”

You nodded. And also pushed down the urge to brush back the strands of hair hiding his face. “Uh, yeah. It was, I think - no, yeah it was - Mr. Carson’s math class. My friends finally pushed me into talking to you, but, uh, it didn’t go too well.”

Eddie groaned, tossing his head back.

You chuckled. “You did nothing wrong. The class just finished a test so we were all talking with our friends waiting for the bell to ring. The problem was that I had argued with my friends for too long. By the time I gathered up the courage to walk over to you and your friends the bell rang. And you ran out.”

Eddie put his head in his hands. “Oh god, I did?”

“You did, but to be fair lunch was next.”

“Fuck.”

You laughed. “Eddie, it’s okay.”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t feel okay.”

“Eddie, look at me.” Slowly, his hands glided down his face stretching and distorting his skin along the way. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop you from laughing at his dramatic antics. When his eyes finally locked with yours, you said, “I’m not mad, okay? Stuff happens. I’ve met you now so that’s all that matters.”

“Why?”

You blinked, “Why, what?”

Eddie didn’t mean to say it out loud, but the words tumbled out. The word that held a burning question. “Why did you want to talk to me?”

Your cheeks warmed up. “Ah, well, you seemed really cool and fun to be around. I don’t know, all your friends seemed happy to be around you.”

It was a minor fib.

“Really?” He sounded unconvinced.

You bit your lip. “Can - can I tell you something?”

“Yeah?”

“And you won’t laugh?”

“Why would I?”

You shrugged. You looked down at your lap picking at your nails. “I - uh … I was a bit jealous of you.”

It was a piece of the truth. Just not the whole truth.

“Me?”’ He jammed his finger into his chest.

“Yeah, you.”

“… why?” He threw you a crazy look.

“Because you don't care what other people think. You have thick skin and it’s admirable.”

He licked his lips and leaned forward looking up at you. “You wanna know something?”

You peered up catching his eyes.

He continued. “It does get to me sometimes, but people are people. They do dumb shit, say dumb shit, and we just have to figure out how to live on this big dumb planet together.”

You cracked a smile. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right!” He jumped up onto his feet.

You swung around, dangling your legs off the table and leaned forward. “So, who said dumb shit for those three jocks to come after you?”

His shoulders drooped. “Well, they started it with the usual stuff. Something something I’m a freak, something about my dad, something satanic, something cult, something, something, something, blah, blah, blah.”

“And you retaliated and they got pissed.”

“Yup,” he huffed, not trying to hide his disdain.

You hummed leaning back on your hands.

“What?”

Your eyes scanned him up and down. Eddie squirmed under your intense gaze. When your eyes locked with his, a slow smirk crossed your lips. “Yeah, you sure do look like an evil cultist, especially with your curls.”

He snorted. It was a miracle, almost a superpower, on how easily washed away any negative emotion he felt. “Yeah, you think?” He flipped his hair, giving it a shake. “How’s that? Still too scary?”

“Frightening.” You shielded your eyes with your hands. “Oh, you look so menacing. I’m shaking.”

He chuckled. He waggled his fingers, stepping closer he mimicked a ghost’s moaning.

You continued to play along. “Oh, no.” You pressed the back of your hand to your forehead acting like a damsel about to faint.

Neither of you lasted much longer. Eddie stumbled forward into a fit of laughter and you were right behind him. Both of you were laughing and shaking your heads. But, as the laughter died down, you both realized how closer you were again. Eddie’s hands rested on either side of you, trapping you on the table. Your knees bumped into his thighs. Slowly, you both glanced up, locking eyes.

Warm.

Warm and welcoming and somehow innocent. That was how you would describe them. You searched and searched, happily falling under his trance.

Then, you slowly reached up.

Eddie almost couldn’t breathe. Your fingers barely danced across his cheek and he nearly buckled under the fleeting touch. Your fingers gently curled. And carefully retracted.

Eddie blinked.

In between the two of you, you held up a tiny thin stick; probably struck from his venture through the woods.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, tossing the miniscule twig aside, “I just saw it and … yeah, sorry.”

“No, no, it’s okay. You just surprised me.” He swallowed down the hollow pain that filled his heart. Why would it be more? He smiled easily through it all. “Do I have any more?”

With a quick glance, you shook your head. “You look good.”

“Good.”

Eddie started to peel back from you.

Your hands instantly latched around his. Your fingers curled around his wrist demanding him to stay in place. Eddie’s eyes darted down then back up. You licked your lips. Eddie couldn’t help it. His eyes dragged downward watching the small movement.

“Can I tell you something else?” You whispered.

“Uh, sure,” he muttered.

You opened then quickly closed your mouth. A string of curses passed through your lips. “Okay, I - fuck. Okay, okay, you know how earlier I said I was jealous?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, that wasn’t the whole truth.”

Eddie stared blankly.

You tore your gaze away from him, looking to the side, down, above, just anywhere that wasn’t Eddie’s eyes. “I, uh, also had a tiny crush on you.”

The truth was finally out.

Eddie’s body went rigid.

Seeing his frozen reaction, your mind instantly assumed the worst. You tried to back track. “I mean like I said, just a small one. And it was months ago, so it’s nothing to worry about. I don’t know why I said -“

“Can I kiss you?” He breathed out.

“What?”

“Can I -“

“No, no, I heard you. I - uh.” You stared as you slowly comprehended what he said. And with each ticking second, a smile grew on your lips.

You didn’t answer.

You grabbed the lapels of his vest and yanked him closing the space.

Eddie hummed as your lips collided.

So soft yet so intoxicating.

Your hands snaked up into his hair. Your fingers gently scratched against his head. With a soft tug, a moan rumbled in the back of his throat. Eddie’s hands cupped your face. Only for a second. Then they wandered downward. His calloused fingers skimmed down your face and neck. Goosebumps erupted in their wake.

You pulled away first completely breathless. Lips swollen with a loud, thumping heartbeat that rang in your ears.

He sighed, a low shaky one.

Your combined heavy breathing filled the silence. But, only for a second.

“Please, don’t stop,” Eddie whispered - pleaded.

His words lit a fire inside of you. Your grip in his hair tightened, while your eyes darkened. “Eddie, please, don’t tempt me.”

He smirked seeing your reaction. “Oh? And what will you do?”

You closed your eyes trying to calm yourself. Not here. Not yet.

“Aw, not up to the challenge?”

Your eyes flew open. You grabbed his chin between your thumb and forefinger, pulling him forward. His hands latched onto your hips steadying himself. Your lips skimmed over his. The temptation was there. All you had to do was take it.

Not yet, you told yourself again.

Taking a deep breath, you exhaled slowly, calming yourself. “You, Eddie Munson, are trouble.”

He chuckled. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

You let go of him and leaned back on your hands. He continued to smirk, keeping his hands on your hips. His thumbs caressed your skin. With each stroke, he gently pulled you under his spell.

“So? Put a pin in this?” He asked, still wearing a smirk.

“Definitely.”

He bowed his head, shaking it. When he glanced back up a soft, genuine and loving, smile now danced on his lips. “So,” he drawled out, “if you want we can try this out? Like we can start with a date?”

You matched his smile. “I would love to. Let’s say Friday? I pick you up and we go on a drive and get a bite to eat?”

He leaned in and whispered. “Sounds perfect.”

You chuckled. You leaned in pecking his waiting lips. He hummed in approval. Pulling back, you hopped off the table standing in front of him. “Okay, but first let’s get you home.”

“Sure.” He said dreamily.

You shook your head, smiling.

Jumping onto your bike, Eddie took your helmet and jammed it on. He flicked open the visor watching as you started the bike and kicked up the stand. His arms snaked around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. The action so nonchalant as if he has done it a thousand times. He asked, “Can we take the scenic route?”

You peered at him through the corner of your eye. “Can do. Any other requests?”

His grip tightened around you. “Nope, I got everything else I need.”

You laughed through your nose trying to cover the warmth that spread through your entire body. “Alright there, lover boy.”

Before he could comment, you floored it. He squeaked. His voice caught in his throat. He snapped the visor shut and kept his grip on you. Your chaotic laughter boomed over the engine.

He chuckled.

And for some reason you thought he was going to be trouble.

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

Live In Nanny Pt 2

Villain!All Might x Reader

All Might raising baby Deku but is in desperate need of a nanny (Pt 2). The morning after and basically wayyyy to long so the smut is gonna have to be in pt 3. (word count: a little over 2k)

pt 1 here

TW: Yandere themes, day after dub con, reader is held against their will

You were sore. Your hips, wrists, back, pussy, everything ached. A silky sheet was the only thing covering your bare form. You could feel that you were alone in bed, Toshi's bulkiness was no longer weighing down the mattress. It must be mid morning because light was streaming through the curtains. Maybe if you remained still you could absorb into the mattress. Not only because of your tender body, but because you would prefer to never see your boss again. But speak of the devil. "Are we staying in bed all day?" You groaned. Hating how he worded his question. We. It was condescending, patronizing, and somehow filled you with butterflies. Something was placed on the bed, definitely not heavy enough to be Toshi. And then you realized, not something but a tiny someone. Baby Izuku crawled over to you, babbling, and tapped your sore shoulder. "Morning, Zuzu," You mumbled. Your joints crackled to life and you tightened the covers so you could face the little one. Behind him the clock read 11:00 am. "I need to get dressed." The villain cocked his head, "I tossed your clothes in the laundry do you want me to go get something from your closet?" No, you didn't want him running through your belongings. He would probably make a mess. "Just give me one of your shirts." That provided you enough modesty to get to your room and you were surprised the menace didn't follow. You scrubbed your body raw under the shower, subconsciously punishing yourself for taking pleasure from the night before. You were frustrated. Clean and covered in giant sweat pants and a hoodie you stormed into the living room where Toshi sat watching izuku entertain himself. "I quit." There was a pause. You tried not to look at the child. He would sway your resolve. This didn't have anything to do with him, it was between you and his father. "Alright." Oh. He wasn't going to challenge you? Figures, the man got what he wanted from you. You turned on your heels and rushed back to your room. You didn't own much so it wasn't hard to shove your belongings back into the suitcase. Opening your bedside drawer you froze. Your keys and phone were missing. This was their spot. The dedicated key-and-phone drawer. You check the room once, twice, then Izuku's room, the playroom, the kitchen. "Where are my keys?" You hissed, to hell with the phone you could buy a replacement. "Why would you need those," His voice was taunting. You felt your fists ball up and your nails dug into your palms. You stomped your foot like a frustrated child. "Because I'm leaving, I quit, now give me my keys." "I agreed you can quit, if that's what makes you feel better. I didn't say anything about leaving." The tension could be cut with a knife. He wasn't speaking or moving, he was eerily looming. In the other room Izuku was getting fussy. It knotted your stomach not going to check on him, but you kept your eyes on the villain. Toshinori was the first one to move, he went to check on his son. Clearly you weren't a threat. You could do without the keys, even sacrifice your suitcase. You made it all the way to the front door where you expected him to be, but he wasn't. He was with Izuku. With a twist at the knob the door didn't budge. You tried once more before angrily shaking the door. All Might called for you, "I told you that you aren't leaving. It's a two way security system but feel free to keep trying." When did he install this? You didn't see anything obvious like a box or camera indicating a security system. You could've thrown a fit or tried to break open the window but you had a feeling you wouldn't make it far. "What are you getting at?" You asked, rejoining the father-son duo. "Nothing aside from what we discussed last night in bed," he was making your cheeks burn red. "Making sure we stay a happy family." By the tone of his voice you knew there was no room for discussion. He didn't chastise you for slamming the door your room. He didn't pester you through out the day. He didn't even open your door to tell you he made dinner. He came by later to tell you (through the door) that he left you a plate in case you get hungry. By midnight you were. You tip toed down the hall, peeking into to the nursery to see Izuku fast asleep. You scarfed down the food before crawling back to bed. --- The next day you shuffled out of bed and into Izuku's room where you picked up the quiet but awake baby. You were gentle as you combed through his green curls with your fingers. He was still warm the way babies gets when they sleep. Holding him soothed you. Toshi melted when he saw you two curled up on the couch. He didn't want to ruin the mood so he stayed out of your line of sight for a few more minutes. Finally he entered the threshold of the room, "I'm heading out for the day but I won't be out late." You could've ignored him, but Izuku's grubbing hands were grabbing for his daddy. You had been defeated by the toddler. You weren't a monster. You moved toward your now ex-employer so he could tell his son goodbye. Goodbye before he goes off to commit atrocities. Toshi kissed the child’s chubby cheeks without removing him from your arms. He was too close for comfort. You took an awkward half step back before his huge hand caught your hair. With a tug, your chin jutted forward and he pressed his lips to yours. "Zuku, keep an eye on mommy," Chuckling as he stepped out the front door. Your mind was fuzzy for a moment before looked down at the boy on your hip who was giggling and clapping his hands together. --- The jovial villain was focused at work. He was on edge, quiet and irritable. Eager to return home and help you with his son. All Might wasn't delusional — well at least not entirely. He anticipated that this would be a rough time for you, but you were a good girl, you would adjust.

When he placed that ad to scout for someone to watch Izuku he didn't plan for this. But you were so perfect. He ached for you in a way he never hurt before. Had you been anyone else he would've killed you when you found out his villainous ways. But no, he could never bring himself to harm you. God, you even took the news in stride. Yeah, you weren't thrilled and may have walked out of their lives if he hadn't stopped you; but you weren't trashing his house or treating Izuku any differently.

And you were so pretty underneath him, whimpering while you took his length, your nails digging into the man's shoulders when he released into you. You slept like a rock afterwards, rolling unconsciously into him. Your body sought his comfort, knowing you were safe with him. He just needed to give you time to adjust.

--- It didn't take long for you to stop leaving the room any time he entered. And soon you were back to your normal routine of caring for the child and keeping up with the house. You resumed playing around with Izuku and began reading a ton of books to the boy. You told Toshi that Izuku could even pick which books he wanted you to read. It was nice that you were talking to him again, sometimes making jabs at his life choices and always kept a distance between yourself and him. Izuku was becoming quite the talker, well the babbler because he hasn't said his first word yet. He was figuring it out though. He knew he could say 'Ap-ap' for apple or to get picked up. You were sure he would say his first word any day. --- The three of you were in the living room when it happened. Izuku was watching some baby show, the first "lesson" was colors and the little one did his best to make nonsensical noises. The next subject was family members. Siblings, sister, brother. Parents. Mom, mommy, mama. Dad, daddy, papa. Grandma, grandpa. Aunt, auntie. Uncle. Over and over again until the show was done. Toshi looked at the izuku who was wearing the face of a thinker. He looked at his dad, the little one was trying to get something of importance out. You both cheered for him once he finally got out the word "papa." It was cute to see the man beam with pride, even though he was a villain. The butterflies were breaking out of their cocoons again. --- Toshi didn't get much alone time with his son and he liked it that way. That meant you were with them. But when he did get time with son he worked on teaching the boy that you were the mommy. Mama. And Izuku would try to repeat but hadn’t quite got it. --- You were struggling to maintain your composure in between watching the news and cooking dinner. All Might was robbing a bank. There were hostages. You recognized the location immediately as a bank you passed almost daily before working for Toshinori. Did you know anyone inside? A small part of you worried for the man, probably because you were thinking of him as Izuku's father rather than a villain. You shut the TV off when you heard Izuku start to wake from his nap.

That night you couldn't help but notice a slice on his arm; it was superficial, not even bleeding but enough to draw out the question: Why do you do it? It's easy, he shrugged. All Might never initiated an attack unprovoked nor directed his actions towards helpless civilians. He stole, dabbled in the black market, and made sure everyone knew not to mess with him or anyone in his circle.

You just couldn't understand. When Zuku gets older he will ask questions. All little boys idolize their dads. What if someone tried to hurt the boy? 

The two of you were whisper yelling with each other. You more so than Toshi but he was still running low on patience; it had been a long day, after all. Izuku was picking up on the changing atmosphere, watching you both through furrowed brows, the quiver in his lip worsening. You stopped when you heard the whimpering begin. He was a sensitive child. Maybe you just needed to sleep. Toshi picked up the baby, bouncing Zuku in the way that always prevented tantrums and wails. He kept babbling and you could tell he was doing his best not to cry. You started to head towards your room when a cry broke out for 'mama.' This time it wasn't Toshi “putting you in your place”. This time it was Izuku.

"It's okay, Zuzu," Toshi soothed. "Mommy just needs a minute."

The crushing realization of just how trapped you were knocked the wind out of you. You couldn't leave the house. Toshi was always being too kind and patient. Somehow he managed to teach Izuku that you were his mommy. The most infamous villain had ensnared you and no matter what he wasn’t letting go. You would never be able to convince him to leave you alone and you'd never be able to leave Izuku.

You were tired of stubbornly holding out. Pathetic tears cascaded down your face, gentle and oddly relieving. Izuku practically leapt into your arms. The tot clung to you and his crying calmed down. you turned away, not able to look at the man.

"Are you going to think the worst of me forever?" Toshinori whispered. Maybe? Probably not. It was hard to tell. You didn't want to.

He continued, "I'm a good father, I would never let anyone hurt Izuku. Or you. Sure I don't have a lot of redeeming qualities but there are some."

You were tired of being stuck inside. It wasn't good for Izuku either. You wouldn't admit it but you weren't so sure you would abandon them even if given the chance. You were tired of trying to hate the man behind you. Tired of pretending you didn't fantasize about that night when you were alone in bed. Toshi moved right behind you and you relaxed against his huge chest. He was surprised and hesitant to move in case he frightened you to your senses. He couldn't just stand there though, that would be weird. Two thick arms wrapped around waist. "Tomorrow I wanna take Izuku to the park," You whispered. Toshi was equally defeated.

"Okay."

---

After putting Izuku to bed you made your way down the hall. The shower in Toshinori's bathroom was running. That was fine. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts. If this was going to work without you feeling like a hostage he was going to have to be open to loosing the reigns. 

He was surprised to see you in his room when he exited the bathroom in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants. 

"More fighting?" He cocked an eyebrow. 

You shook your head, "I hate All Might, just as much as I hate every other villain. But when you come home I don't see All Might, I just see Toshinori, Izuku's dad. That's the man I care about and no matter how much I fight it I can't stop caring."

It was hard to keep eye contact with him but you continued, "I want to be with you and Izuku, not with All Might. And I want to be here on my own accord. I want to be able to go out with Izuku and with you. Can't we just try that?" 

You didn't come in here to berate him again? Or to demand to leave? His heart softened as he realized that the person he wanted, wanted him back. You were willing to remain in their lives. 

"I can try that." 

Toshi trained his eyes on your body, fighting every instinct to close the space between. But you moved first, gingerly placing your hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you straddled his lap.

"Can I sleep in here tonight? I want you to hold me," You whispered.

He nodded and rested his forehead against the crook of your neck. "Is that all you want from me tonight?"

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 13: ...O-OH?

it’s the night of the big stream. y/n uncovers a strange, albeit deep, bond with charlie. corpse interrupts her garden date with sykkuno quite unceremoniously. tensions are high as ever; proximity chat reveals internal monologues and stray thoughts. y/n’s “batshit insane” energy affects everyone. this is, quite literally, the best game of among us bretman has ever played.

─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (if you squint, it’s very one sided)  ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 6.1k oops ─── ❥ reqs: sum people requested some interaction w bretman + jealous corpse + flirty sykkuno

author’s note: guys....GUYS WE’RE ON THE 3RD “OH” hope ur excited cus i am!!! this was rly fun to write, but then again, everything is better than writing an essay lmao! this is extremely chaotic and a bit seggsy but like a minuscule bit u wont even notice it i swear xx there’s not much social media in this one, mostly written lol. as always lmk wat u think n thank u for all ur kind words n sooo manyyyy ideassss!!! love u lots

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous. ҉   next.

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It’s happening, you think, picking the discreet, angelic white color for your astronaut - with a halo and all, truly, you are a seraph that stepped through the gates of heaven and descended onto earth to grace these morals with your presence...quite literally, you’re not only donning white in game, but also in real life, cute as a button or more like as a bunny. Cat girls are overrated - cat boys, on the other hand, you’ll ardently defend till your last breath - but bunny girls...Safe to say, your chat had been going feral. Your endless ego is fed well. You even swore on your heart that no devilish trickery would follow in this game - you had left your snake ways behind you.

No one believed you. The Roaches know you too fucking well.

The influx of new subs, however, do not. Look at this cute girl! She wouldn’t hurt a fly! You chuckle at the compliments. At the exact same moment, Rae pipes up on the discord call, “Y/n is leering and cackling evilly. No one trust her.”

Demon woman herself must be watching your stream before starting her own. You pout, all adorable and innocent, but your eyes gleam slyly. Truly, a mastermind of manipulation! Look at you go! The chat is swooning. The viewer number steadily climbs past 16K and you hum happily, welcoming all that decided to join your little clan, “Don’t listen to Rae. Wifey is mad because I said I’m not bringing her back a souvenir. Well guess what, bitch, I’m the gift.”

Your perfect image does not quite align with your tone, nor the affectionate nickname you call your roommate (bitch, not wifey). The new viewers are none the wiser though, just like your new stream mates.

There is laughter from people you don’t quite know. The lobby is almost full, but not everyone has trickled in yet.

“Filing divorce papers right now.” Rae mumbles, but you hear the smile in her voice. It makes you crack a grin, too. 

More hello’s and shy introductions to the people in the lobby. Sykkuno’s green astronaut pops in with a upbeat, “Hey, everyone! Hi, Y/n!” as his character circles around yours. A collective awww echoes in your stream chat as you, quite breathless at the wholesomeness, reply with a “Hi! Hi hi!” as well.

Corpse is next to join, mysteriously ominous. The discord call is pure chaos, everyone screaming over the other variations of his name while stressing different syllables. Silent as a grave, he just stands there, his black astronaut seemingly eyeing everyone in the lobby. 

Alas, when the noise dies down, he utters, “Whaddup, baby.” and it’s pandemonium all over again. You are screeching/laughing along with the rest. His astronaut swiftly glides to Sykkuno, still circling around you, “Hey, Sykkuno.” He says. The latter abruptly stops. The game hasn’t even started, and already - betrayal! Sykkuno starts circling around Corpse now, leaving you in the dust.

“Hey, dude!”

“Yo,” You interrupt, “I’m like here too, yeah?”

“Fight, fight, fight!” Pokimane jeers. You can’t see her, but you’re certain she’s pumping her fists in the air. 

“Let’s leave the bloodshed for the game, yeah?” Dream offers past her laugh ridden urging.

“No, fuck that, let’s start this shit right now,” Charlie declares - his monotone is strangely pleasant to the ear, and you lean back in your chair with a thoughtful hum. Something about his energy just clicks with yours instantly, but perhaps you’re judging too quickly- “Got my fucking knife ready to slit some throats. You can all pretend you aren’t ready to kill on sight, but that’s not me. I’ll teabag your dead fucking body.”

-yeah, no, your initial estimate had been correct! What a pleasant surprise, you feel like you and he will get along beautifully. 

“Way to be subtle, Charles.” Rae snorts.

“Subtle doesn’t make an interesting game, Rae,” He’s quick to bite back, “and if I’m Impostor, you bet your fucking ass I’m going after you first.”

“Noooooo!” She shrieks, rushing to your astronaut, which is still just standing there, abandoned, like the equivalent of that one emoji, “Y/n, protect me.”

“Of course, baby.” You purr. 

There’s mumbling in the discord call, though it’s barely audible. Corpse seems to be repeating the word to himself: Baby...Baby?...Baby...

“You’re gonna stab me in the back the first chance you get, won’t you?” She questions, already painfully aware of the answer.

“You know it!”

“Finally, someone that’s not fucking cowering in their boots and flaunting their real nature.” Charlie says, “Y/n, form a Big Dick Alliance with me.”

“Oh for sure, man.” You agree immediately, trailing to his in game figure, “Let’s show these virgins how it’s done.”

“This is going to be a mess, isn’t it?” Sean’s voice rings with a cheerful laugh, making you flustered. Yes, you’re actually playing with THE JacksepticeyeTM. You still haven’t fully wrapped your head around that part, “I’m very excited to see where this will go.”

“Nowhere good.” You say with unparalleled sincerity - every word you speak to him, the icon, the legend, the one of the few youtubers you actually actively follow, must be genuine. You doubt you can lie to him. He’s too good of a person. You admire him too much. Stuck between wanting to be a shady bitch and an absolute saint, you refrain from addressing him more - you are simply not worthy.

its the y/n trying to act like a normal person in front of jack for me

ikr she looks ready to join the monastery

each day we stray closer to gods light???

Your viewers are snide as always. Gosh, you love them.

The last player pops in, fashionably late, “Hey, y’all.”

“Hey, Bretman!” The call choruses somewhat harmoniously.

“Hi, daddy.” He’s speaking to Corpse now, a smile in his voice - you can hear it even past the static of his atrocious mic. Your eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up. Your friends are cackling, but confusion refrains you from doing the same - were you not the only one Corpse offered, seemingly so long ago!, to be his sugar baby? 

One betrayal after the other. You’re glad for the Big Dick Alliance. The name has a nice right to it, too. 

Corpse laughs, “...Hey, Bretman. How are you today?”

Damn, two sentences for him, but not even a word spoken to you!? You’re already scripting a very melodramatic paragraph you will text him after the stream. With poorly masked discontent, you mutter, “Wow, thanks for such a warm welcome, Corpse, my day’s going great, yeah, loving the company.”

“Now now miss girl,” Bretman chimes, “we can’t be all daddy’s favorite.”

“Careful,” Charlie drones, “I think you just got yourself onto Y/n’s shit list.”

“Right next to Corpse Husband and Valkyrae.” You agree, “Sykkuno!” You suddenly call him.

“Uhm-Uh-Yes?” Is his nervous reply.

“You’re safe.” You state coldly, “For now.”

“You are not going after Sykkuno on my watch.” It must be a belated holiday miracle because Corpse finally decides to address you. His words seem to awake something in him, “Hey-Hey-Hey-” He swiftly glides to you, standing right next to your minute virtuous angel, “When are you coming back to Cali?”

corpse stop acting weird challenge

literally omg lmao

he does bring up a good point y/n y u not in cali yet?!

^pack it up corpse simp he disrespected the queen when he didnt say hi

“Back off, buddy,” Charlie interjects, “this spot is for Big Dick Alliance members only.”

“I’m never returning.” You inform him, your voice cold like the Arctic snow, and the look in your eyes is no kinder. You feel like you’re having a stare down through screen. 

Silence stretches. Is this an intimidation tactic? Because if it is, it’s a paltry one. Your conviction to be petty is stronger than any vulnerability you might feel.

“Then I have nothing to say to you.” He admits and fucks right off with that. Fine, go join Sykkuno and Rae in their little corner of betrayal! Friendship ended with Corpse, now Charlie is your best friend.

“Okay, guys, guys, guys-” Toast, noting this is going to spiral any minute now, tries to catch their attention, “Let’s start?!”

You look into your camera, and the roaches know what you’re thinking. You’re twins like that, communicating telepathically. You are taking back your tender promise of not being a conniving bastard. It’s fucking on. You will destroy everyone in your path, starting with the guy you have a stupid crush on - maybe?! Feelings are confusing, you’d rather just not think point blank period.

With no objections from the cast, the counter ticks away seconds and, for the first round, you’re stuck as CREW MATE.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Charlie is a gift. Truly, you had not expected such a sudden, wonderful relationship to bloom. How have you not known of him sooner?! It’s a crime that you hadn’t spoken to him earlier. You are a 100% certain if you had found him before you started streaming, he would’ve been a big inspiration. 

The two of you do your silly little tasks and curse like sailors, commenting about this and that thanks to proximity chat. You wouldn’t have been able to stand the claustrophobic silence if it was just a normal Among Us game - to think, missing out on all his foully worded quips! It almost springs a tear into your eye. He’s just as unhinged as you.

worried about this dynamic 

its a trainwreck lol i love it plz collab more plz

Caught in a headed discussion in Electrical - TikTok trends, or audios specifically - you defend the app the best you can. Charlie thinks it’s super cringe, and you insist it’s part of the charm as you connect wires.

“I mean, have...-do you know that one audio, the one that goes, like,” You’re spilling your words, heated, frustrated that he’s so dismissive of the app that literally saved 2020, “it goes like, uhm,” You clear your throat, prep your voice - even take a sip of your favorite drink. Drawing the syllables, you try your best to make it drop an octave - it must sound like you’re doing an atrociously bad and nauseatingly scratchy Corpse impression with an extra dramatic flair, “My assssssss, your cockkk, you do the mathhh.”

“Did-Did I just-” You freeze hearing Corpse’s voice, finally done with your task. Charlie is muffling his laughter behind his palm; Corpse’s astronaut stands in the doorway, “What the fuck did I just walk into?” He seems genuinely confused, though a strangely winded. You’re mortified. Your shoulders are shaking. You look at the stream chat but it’s going too fast for you to follow. Manic laughter bubbles in your chest and you squeeze your eyes shut, mouth split into a toothy grin, lowering your head and trying to hide the blush dusting your cheeks.

“Hey? Guys? What the fuck are you talking about?” He questions again.

“Honestly?” Charlie chimes, “No fucking clue. TikTok, I think. Ask Y/n.”

You can’t reply. You’re crying. You cover your face with your palms, muttering a soft oh my god before bursting into a full blow laugh, throwing your head back, the motion accidentally knocking your headphones off.

“Y/n.” Corpse calls you, “Fuck was that?”

You’re howling. Your stomach hurts. There are literal tears in your eyes. You think Charlie might be laughing too, but you can’t really tell over your loud screeching. Hastily fixing your headphones, you wipe away the tears stuck to your lower lashes, heaving, “S-Sorry, I-” You stutter, breaking into another fit of giggles. Corpse patiently waits you to calm down. Catching your breath, you start again with a sniffle, “TikTok, yeah.” You idly fix your hair, trying to bite down a smile, “It’s an audio.”

“What- What kind of videos are you watching?”

“The good kind.” Your reply is instant, merciless, “Also, why are you here? We’re having a BDA meeting, you know.”

“I-I...” He trails off, “I...I heard people talking and...I just came here to check it out, but...I’m regretting it.” There’s a lilt in his voice, and you know he doesn’t regret jack shit. You bet he’s smiling. You wish you could see it.

“Bitch, then leave!” You huff. You aren’t sure what is with him today, and you don’t want to stick around and find out - his playfulness makes your stomach flip at the most inappropriate times! Like when you’re trying to sound threatening. You must retreat posthaste, “No, wait, I’ll do it for you.” You say, brushing past his character. Charlie follows after you.

“Dude, you’re so fucking lucky neither of us are the Impostor because you’d be deader than I’ve been feeling since I was 10.” Your favorite companion comments. Charlie is truly a modern wordsmith. You’re pretty sure you adore him, because you’re nodding your head, so quick to agree with him that even you’re surprised. 

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

A meeting is called. You spare a glance at your fallen crew mates. They will be missed. Sean most of all, God, why does heaven always take the good ones?! The game feels emptier without him, even if you really only passed him once on your trek to Cafeteria with Charlie.

You may or may not have been avoiding him, afraid you’d accidentally say something horrible and he would hate you. It’s a silly fear, though a deep one. And with Charlie keeping you company, you had not uttered a single objectively  good, or even coherent, sentence. Your parents can’t watch this stream once it’s uploaded onto your Youtube channel. They know you’re barely keeping it together in most of your videos, but here, now? Yeah, no. Charlie is already hard to listen to on his own for sensitive viewers, and hearing you agree with literally everything he says with your own chaotic ideas? Your dad would stumble into an early grave.

Mom probably wouldn’t mind too much, but you’d have to explain your relationship status again. She is under the assumption that everyone you collab with is your significant other. You’d say it began with Sykkuno, though the exclamation of “Finally! My daughter isn’t pathetically single! We need to celebrate.” had started with Rae. Truly, a scandal.

Speaking of which, Sykkuno is gone, too, but you had time to mourn him already. You found his body roughly ten minutes ago; so torn with the fresh agony of heartbreak, you could not do anything else but cry. It was Charlie, bless his heart, that reported it.

“Someone killed Jack,” You say, voice dripping with venom, “court is now in session. I’m ready to vote the fucker out.”

People speak all at once. Toast roars over them, “ORDER! ODER IN COURT!” as he slams his hand onto his desk repeatedly. That seems to work, though briefly.

“I think it’s Y/n.” Corpse says. You stare at him, hand gripping your heart, mouth falling open in surprise.

flame him

corpse boutta be a corpse fr

beat his ass queen!!!!!

“Pardon my french,” You grumble, “but nani the fuck?!”

“It’s definitely Y/n, I found her and Charlie conspiring in Electrical. Surrealist experience of my fucking life, but it’s definitely her.”

“Dude, we’ve been over this,” Charlie sighs, shushing Rae who was about to comment something - knowing your luck, it was probably in favor of the man throwing you under the bus, “we would’ve snapped your fucking neck the moment you walked in. But we didn’t.”

“Yeah, we didn’t.” Corpse notes, “I said nothing about you, I’m just saying it’s definitely her. She probably didn’t kill in front of you because of your stupid alliance-”

“Someone sounds salty because he wasn’t invited.” Pokimane snickers.

“-or possibly she did tell you and you won’t betray her for the exact same reason.”

“That’s some big brain logic you pulled there, genius,” Charlie says, absolutely unimpressed, “sure you didn’t have an aneurysm trying to connect all of that together?”

“Well,” Rae pipes up, “Y/n and Charlie did say they will kill right before the game started. If you ask me, it’s not unbelievable. And Sykkuno was sorta on the shit list.”

“I’m writing down your name twice, Rachell.” You spit.

“Not helping your case at all, Y/n...” Dream worries, “And Rae makes a good point. Charlie and you have professed desire for murder. I’m just saying! It’s a bit suspicious, you know?”

The next words to leave Corpse’s lips sound incredibly smug, “See?” He drawls.  The pressure is getting to you - you don’t understand where this beguiling talent of his to convince literally everyone comes from, but it doesn’t inspire any confidence. Your fist suddenly feels incredibly lonely, so useless - oh, how you long to swing at him, “It’s definitely Y/n.”

“I dunno...” Toast mumbles.

“It’s Y/n.”

“Corpse-” You try, but he's ignoring you - shocker, as if he hadn’t been doing that from the very start of this stupid game - and chanting your name like it’s a fucking mantra or something, a smile in his voice, knowing, relishing in the fact that he’s grating on your nerves, “FIRST OF ALL,” You scream into the mic, successfully cutting him off; catching your breath, you exhale, and continue, calmly, lowly,  “get my pretty name out of your mouth.” 

There’s a pause full of tense silence. 

Then, there’s a sound, seemingly stuck in the back of his throat, “...O-Oh...?”

“Second of all,” You continue, words like honey dipped in arsenic, “This is the clearest smear campaign I have ever witnessed. By how hard you’re trying to frame me for fuck knows what reason, I’m led to believe it’s you that killed them. You’re the Impostor.”

“Corpse wouldn’t kill Sykkuno, though.” Rae comments, skeptical.

“Then the other Impostor did it.” You counter.

“Maybe you’re both Impostors.” Pokimane chirps.

“Y/n would never betray the Big Dick Alliance like that.” Charlie states.

You grin, “Charlie, I literally love you.” 

“Wait hold up now,” Corpse seems to get his bearings together, “what’s this about love I’m hearing?”

“I have none for you, dick.” You snap, flipping him off. Your chat cheers. While he can’t see it, you hope he senses it through the screen, “I officially hate you.”

“No, wait-”

“Boo, Corpse, you suck.” Toast laughs.

“Y/n, please-”

“Let’s all vote for Corpse Husband, okay?” You say it like it’s his full official name with an encouraging smile and multiple soft nods. Sykkuno can’t be here to nod, so you’ll do it for him. You eye the rapidly decreasing timer before clicking on Corpse’s figure and voting for him. The VOTED icon instantly pops up beside your adorable astronaut.

“Baby, I-” It slips past his lips so easily, as if he’s not even thinking about it, like it’s only natural to call you that and a spike of anxiety shoots up, making you glare. It’s only halfhearted. You try your best to ignore the rapid and uncoordinated pulses of your heart. Replace unwanted feelings with anger and hate - works like a charm, every time.

“You are not allowed to call me that.” You hiss. The chat spams snake emojis. 

“Wait-” Bretman chimes, “Hold up, y’all, slow down a minute. Why does Corpse never call me baby?”

“Yeah!” Pokimane agrees, “I want to be baby, too!”

Pokimane may not have been called baby, but you just single-handedly decided her nickname for her - Target 4. Welcome to the shit list, she is officially your public enemy number 1. You aren’t sure why the thought of Corpse ever referring to anyone else as baby makes you sick to your stomach (you actually do know why, but brain no think at the moment), but you wish this whole conversation never happened. You don’t like it.

20 seconds left. More VOTED icons appear by your friends. Corpse is the last one to cast his ballot at, you assume, you, as the rest wait for his quick explanation before everyone (or not) returns to the game, “...Because she’s my baby.”

Goodbye. Life had been sweet, and there was sorrow, though the amount of embarrassment you feel now is worse than when the internet found your cringe worthy high school pictures on your mom’s Facebook. It’s a mixture of dread and excitement - the pleasure of being noticed, cherished even, though anxious from vulnerability. Someone is screaming a very prolonged “WHAAAAT?!”, or maybe multiple people are, you aren’t sure, your ears start to hurt from the loud, conflicting cacophony of voices as you stare blankly at the screen. You received two votes, just like Corpse, Charlie got one, the rest skipped. With no one flung out, you all find yourself back in Cafeteria again.

Baby. My baby? My baby. My baby. The sentence is playing ping-pong in your mind, reverberating louder each time. You’re actually speechless for the first time in your life; your chest hurts, your heart beating so fast your hands start shaking. Had he meant it? Or was this a some joke? Was he trying to get a rise out of you again? You might just go insane from so many questions. My baby. Holy shit, this is a heart attack, this is what a heart attack feels like, dear God, you figured you at least had ten years before you get one!

  ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

First round ends with IMPOSTORS raining victorious. Your sixth sense had been working wonders since, true to you previous estimate, it had been Corpse. His companion was Pokimane. For absolutely no reason what’s so ever, you change her name once more from Target 4 to Target 1. Normally, you’re all for girls supporting girls. Men don’t deserve anything, really, but now you’re so flustered and still reeling from what you are 80% sure was cardiac arrest that you genuinely don’t care about your established morals.

Round two starts without much deliberation. You get CREW MATE again; the game must sense your growing bloodlust, making sure that once you do get IMPOSTOR, you will not hold back. True power is granted to those who are ready and strong enough to wield it. You wait for your moment with bated breath.

Charlie is taken from you too early. The two of you were once again caught in a discussion - God knows about what, Minecraft, hentai, oh! your server! - as you tried to card swipe for the umpteenth time. The lights blew out and you just knew one of you was getting murdered there and then. Charlie’s voice abruptly cut off, and you think a part of you died with him.

It’s a cold meeting; with your new best friend being the first to go, everyone decides to skip. You proclaim you seek vengeance. When the meeting comes to an end, Sykkuno is the first to offer his condolences.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He says, and while he’s not in Brooklyn, you somehow feel him patting your back. You feign a sniffle.

“There’s nothing to apologize for...” You murmur sadly, “Unless...” Your voice turns sharp as the knife that was surely twisted into Charlie’s back, “It was you?”

“NO!” He exclaims, “I would never-you gotta believe me! I would never kill him. I know he’s important to you. I wouldn’t do that, I swear.”

“He was like a brother to me.” You admit, solemn, “Charlie, if you’re haunting me right now, know I will avenge you. I will not let this go.”

Sykkuno hums, circling around you, “Hey, I have a task in Greenhouse. Would you, uh--Would like to, uhm, join me?” Despite the shaky start, he finishes on a firm, pleasant note. He’s trying to cheer you up. Having lost your closest friend, he’s offering you his company. You accept with a soft smile and a cute “Yes, please!” and he releases an airy little laugh. The two of you make your way to your favorite place in map MIRA.

It’s difficult to stay sad for long when Sykkuno’s so sweet; the atmosphere of the Greenhouse is strangely calming; your problems seem to be left behind the shut doors. If you tried hard enough, you could imagine being in an actual Greenhouse - the warm, damp air clinging to your skin, the unmistakable smell of earth and vegetation, the pleasant silence broken only by yours and his hushed voices and clumsy footsteps.

The two of you are talking. Mainly about your choice of attire. Cat first, Sykkuno ponders aloud, doing his task as you watch the plants grow, now bunny, what’s next? You affirm that you will most likely dress up in cow-print next, or as an adorable sheep. He laughs, admitting you’ll look good in anything before he trails off. His awkwardness is really endearing. 

“Or!” You chirp happily, content with being locked away with him for the whole game. The idea must be playing in his mind, too, because he seems in no rush to leave, “I could, like, dress as someone from My Hero Academia. I watched the stream you did with Stella, the one where she made you look like Todoroki. It was really cute. You were really cute.”

“Oh, uhm-well, uh, thank you, thanks, I, uhm-” He clears his throat, and despite his stutter, you hear the smile in his voice, “I-I think you’d look better, though. Not as Todoroki. Or, probably as Todoroki, too. But, uhm, what character are you thinking about?”

“Maybe Momo?”

“Momo!” He yeps, “Momo is good. Yeah, she’s great. You’ll-uhm-you’ll look amazing. Really. Momo is awesome. Very pretty. Just like you.”

You are blushing. A stupid, toothy grin makes your cheeks hurt. Your eyes flicker to the chat, but again, it’s going wild. Giggling, you thank him for his sweet words, so giddy it’s honestly embarrassing. Why can’t you stop smiling? This is incriminating. You hide your lips behind your palm.

“...What’s this?” Corpse question. You had failed to note his sudden appearance, too busy gushing. “Am I interrupting?”

“Hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno greets. For someone so awkward and shy, he sure is good at hiding it when he wants to. Perhaps it’s all an act and you had been deviously tricked! Probably not, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes suspiciously, finally able to calm down. You definitely underestimated him, you just haven’t figured out how yet, “Not really! Y/n was sad Charlie died so I took her here.”

“You interrupted our date, dipshit.” You deadpan. 

“...Fuck you say?” Corpse dares, his voice low and somewhat menacing - for someone who exclusively portrays his emotions through only his voice, he’s incredibly hard to read. This is payback. Your love for wreaking havoc resurfaces suddenly. Serves him right for pulling all this ignoring shit at the start. Maybe you’ll make him say oh again.

Your sly smirk is promptly wiped. Fuck. He said oh, he literally said oh out loud. The Teruhashi fangirl in you is screaming. You had been so caught up in defending yourself you didn’t even register it at first. Alarmed, you look at the camera, then at the chat. First oh, then my baby. There’s no way he had been teasing you, and this proves it. Holy shit. You mouth the words “HE SAID OH!” for your audience only.

now she notices

snail pace baby we’ve been loosing our shit for the past hour 

corpse x y/n saikik au enemies to lovers 500k words slow burn im here for it

opening wattpad rn^

Your heart races in your chest - it might be considered an Olympic medalist at this point; flustered yet again, you wish you could cave into yourself. You should’ve brought your bright blue wig with you to Brooklyn. Turns out it would have been perfect for this stream. Yes, yes thinking about unnecessary details always works in distracting you from the butterflies throwing a fucking rave in your stomach. 

“I guess it is a date!” Sykkuno admits, “Kinda after a funeral, but still.”

Corpse hums. You’re still too stunned to say anything. The black astronaut with adorable cat ears approaches Sykkuno. 

“It’s not.” He states. Your mouth falls open in shock as your date, your companion, the Shoto to your Momo is murdered in cold blood right in front of you. His lifeless body, cut in half, lays on the tiles by the growing flowers, right beside you, “You didn’t see shit.”

“...I didn’t see shit.” Is all you can utter, breathless and terrified.

“Thaaaat’s fucking right, baby.” Corpse coos, “Now I’m gonna report it, and I’ll say we found Sykkuno together. Better stick close to me after the meeting, got it?”

If Sykkuno is Shoto, then Corpse is definitely Dabi. 

why is that kinda hot tho omg

didn’t know i needed dom corpse since now but i do

y/n looks like shes boutta throw up lmao 

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You follow him around like a lost puppy - because what else is left for you to do!? You’re helpless in this situation. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, successfully eliminating everyone you had previously interacted with. First it was Charlie, then Sykkuno, even Sean, who said hello in passing, was shot instantly. Real Sangwoo behavior. You almost want to scream warnings at everyone to not approach you. You cannot mourn another lost crew mate, you don’t think your conscience can take it. But words fail to form. You’re too weak. You fake cry to your audience. They’re quick to remind you to stop acting like a little bitch.

“Mean.” Is all you say, eyeing the comments.

“Hm?”

“Was talking to the roaches.”

“What are they saying?”

“That I should betray you.”

“...Better not.”

A shiver shoots up your spine and you half believe he will bust down your door and drag you into his basement for real. A nervous laugh slips past your lips, “I won’t, I won’t.” You reassure him, “Don’t worry, I’m sticking with you. I haven’t seen shit.”

“I like that you listen to me. You always this agreeable?”

“You’re kinda not giving me a choice right now.” You grumble, vending yourself a drink while he looms behind you, protecting you. From who?! Himself?!

“Oh my fucking God, finally,” Bretman exclaims, “girl, I’ve been running around the whole map trynna find someone, is everyone like, dead?”

You’re scared to reply. Corpse does it for you, “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, maybe? Not sure. Where have you been?”

“Oh you know,” Bretman grins, “doing tasks, talking shit, the usual. You two are not, like, Impostors right?”

You shoot a look at Corpse, but he obviously can’t see it. Biting your lip, you murmur, “Nope.”

“Just your regular crew mates doing regular crew mate things.” Corpse says, no, purrs. Because that’s not suspicious at all. You’d recommend Bretman to run, and not only because that sounded shady as fuck. But he seems to enjoy danger, or he just doesn’t care.

“Hmmmm, crew mates, sure. Miss girl Y/n,” He’s addressing you now; you smile anxiously, “How come every time I see you, you’re with a different man?! Like damn, leave some for the rest of us, for real!”

You like Bretman. You like his high-pitched whine and drawl. You would like him even more if not for the complex situation at hand. You fear for his life. Chewing at your bottom lip, you snicker, “Sorry, Bret. I can leave you Corpse if you want?”

He laughs, “Girl, I’d say yes so fucking quick, but I know he wouldn’t want that. Normally I wouldn’t care, but y’all are such a cute couple it’s making me not want to be a shady motherfucking bitch. Changing my ways, embracing the lord. Love it.”

 Corpse doesn’t correct him that you are, in fact, not dating. His lack of reaction unnerves you slightly. Does he...? No! No think! Only exist! You catch that train of thought and steer it away from forbidden territory. Looks like it’s up to you to clear the air, and that is exactly what you do after trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, “Uh, we’re not together, actually. We’re just really good friends.”

“Bitch, then move over,” Bretman says snappily,”go like, back to your other boyfriends. Or find another one. I think I saw Dream near Navigation.”

“Near Navigation, huh?” Corpse hums thoughtfully. It’s a subtle warning, but you catch it. Yeah, even if you try running, Dream’s going to join your other ‘boyfriends’ in the afterlife. Granted, killing someone by just talking with them is kind of cool. Or maybe Stockholm Syndrome is finally kicking in, “Bret, the thing is, Y/n’s scared of dying, so she asked me to stay with her.”

It’s disturbing how good at lying he is. It is also really really attractive, as bizarre as that is.

y/n stop being in a toxic relationship with corpse challenge

making fanart of this omg her face

its the blushing for me girl get your head outta the gutter!

^she cant, it lives there

“Baby, you’re gonna fucking die if you stick with her,” Bretman points out, “have you noticed the mortality rate of her partners? Rest in peace, daddy.”

“He’s right, you know.” You mutter, dramatically looking to the side, “I’m no good, Corpse.”

“Not leaving you, end of discussion. Bretman, join us?” Corpse offers, catching you by surprise. He might still be lying, though. Creating a false sense of security before eliminating Bretman. Probably would laugh while doing it, too. Wow, he truly is evil.

Turns out he doesn’t have to do any of that, because when Dream strolls into Cafeteria, he kills Bretman instead. The two Impostors are finally revealed. You promised not to snitch on Corpse, but you didn’t say shit about not exposing Dream. You press the REPORT button and say just that: “Dream just murdered Bret right in front of me and Corpse.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

The last meeting is called. Dream had been voted out with the help of Corpse, and now only you, he, and Rae remain.

“Baby, you know what to do.”

The VOTED icon pops up beside Corpse’s astronaut. Rae wheezes, “No! Y/n, it’s not me, you gotta believe me, I swear it’s not me!”

“...I really don’t know,” You murmur, “I’ve been with Corpse a lot, and...Rae, I’m not sure...”

“Please! I swear it on my Kagayama cardboard cut out, I’m not the Impostor, please! You know me, I’d never lie to you like this.”

“She’s definitely lying.” Corpse says, sounding pleased.

“Don’t listen to him! Remember, during the first round, when he tried to convince us that you were the Impostor? He’s doing the same shit to me!”

“I also remember you agreeing with him.” You remind her.

“I was stupid! Small dumb brain moment! He was using us to win! He’s using you right now!” She votes, “Please, Y/n, make the right choice.”

You’re silent for a moment.

“I’m gonna...I’m gonna vote for who I think it is.” You lastly say.

A slow, lazy grin makes it’s way onto your lips, eyes gleaming mischievously. You had not forgotten your promise to your brother from another mother, you had not forgotten the pride of the BDA, you had not forgotten your beautiful friendship. Two miniature astronauts pop up by Corpse’s at the exact moment Rae screeches “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!”

“Fuck.” Is all Corpse says with a laugh.

The screen changes, informing of the first CREW MATE victory.

Your ears are assaulted with different voices as you appear in the lobby.

“Now that’s what I’m fucking talking about.” Charlie raves, “I swear to fucking God, Y/n, you even got me going for a second. Pulled some 1000 IQ shit right there. It was fucking amazing. Best back stabbing I’ve seen in a while, and I’ve seen a lot.”

“That was absolutely fantastic, Y/n.” Sean applauds, “I really thought you joined Corpse like some crew mate accomplice or something. Can’t believe you switched on him at the last second.”

“That’s my wifey!” Rae cheers, strolling to you, “Love you, mwah.”

“Hey, Corpse,” Charlie calls him, “How does it feel to be a fucking loser?”

“I’m surprisingly fine with it.”

yeah he would be lmao

mom is the best snake ever i love you sm y/n

rae and y/n’s friendship....the feeeeeels

As the rest sing your praises for another solid minute or two, the third round begins. CREW MATE again. Though, just because you’re stuck as an underpaid worker in a dying spaceship, it doesn’t mean you’re innocent. Your last round proved that quite well. You can’t help but silently snicker.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[yeoreos]

avid || jjk (m)

pairing: demon!jungkook x human!reader

genre: 18+, smut

summary: jungkook finds you at a bar and sets you as his night's target

warnings: oh lord smut. lots and lots of smut.

wc: 4k

note: i was kind of lazy to finish it, but hey, its 4k of foreplay; nothing beats that! (also sorry for not posting in a while i was busy with beginning of year exams *cries*)

jungkook first noticed you in a bar. on weekends, it was transformed into a seedy nightclub. he liked to go there while he was looking for something to eat; something to conquer for the night. he discovered a plethora of attractive females and, each with broken hearts and hungry gazes - all yearning for a nighttime lover.

he never believed his eyes when they landed on you. the state you were in was pitiful. he guessed that you had just broken up with this boyfriend of yours, hence the mascara and ruined makeup on your face. or perhaps it was a platonic breakup. despite your state, his mahogany orbs never left your figure. what a cute thing you were.

a pretty face that was exactly his type, the perfect curves of your tits, hips, and ass has his knees weak. if you were to ask, he would give.

of course, his initial plan had been thrown out the window the instant he saw you. you leaned against the bar, accepting an order, with a grin on your lips. It sparked something in him, all the confidence (whether it be from the alcohol in your veins or not, it didn't matter to him) and allure.

he knew your name. how could he miss the way your own name rolled off of your tongue so easily? how could he miss the way your lips formed a smirk after seeing jungkook? how could he miss your scent when you pulled him in to kiss you?

this was jungkook's specialty, depravity. wherever he went, he brought a tale of wickedness and depravity with him, the quality hooking onto him like a magnet.

he was a fallen angel, to be sure. a demon, a fallen angel. to be more specific, an incubus. he fed off of sex and vice, appetites and irrational cravings. he drank often in front of ladies like you, at bars or in beds, whose gazes wracked over him, and he fed off of human energy.

over time, after a handful of centuries, he had gotten bored of playing the same old games in bed. jungkook knew what he wanted, however, he was never able to satisfy that itch in the back of his throat, yearning for something to quench his sinful thirst.

he was tired, watching from atop the hill nearby, where he watched the sun rest for the night. just like you had. the darkness of the night overtook the city of seoul and jungkook knew it was his hour to strike; to feed his thirst.

so, the demon went after you, hovering over your small figure over the pathetic excuse of a bed. the soft rising and falling of your chest and the soft snores that escaped from your mouth once in a while, was all the proof jungkook needed that you were fast asleep.

jungkook extended his hand towards you, brushing his knuckles on your cheek, a tremor coursing through his body as a result of the contact. the energy you were emitting caused every molecule in his body to twitch in response. captivating.

oh how badly he wanted a taste.

when you stirred a little, a small groan leaving your lips, jungkook stilled. had you woken up? however, it was just a small movement you were causing in your sleep which allowed you to further curl up against the pillow.

he grinned.

it was time.

"let's go in that dream of yours, shall we?"

-

when he opened his eyes again, jungkook didn't expect himself to be in the same bar, be in the same exact position as before. however, this time, you were looking directly at him with your hungry eyes, mimicking his.

ever since heaven had decided to clip his wings, jungkook gave up on the little purity he had left, letting himself follow his heart.

so that's why he felt no shame in eyeing your figure up and down multiple times.

it wasn't necessarily anything that stood out about you, but it was just the aura you were giving off, that sweet feminine scent that lingered near the air around you, that small curve of your lips. but it might have mostly been the way you called for him, despite not knowing his name.

"hello, handsome."

jungkook didn't really have a preference when coming to his targets. he didn't prefer virgins; he always thought that they were inexperienced and didn't know how to give a good head. he didn't prefer the experienced either; he always thought that they knew too much and made the sex too sloppy. it was somewhere in between. and by the looks of it, you seemed like the perfect target. it had his insides churning, a long yearning for a good fuck. he thought he was going crazy.

throughout his centuries of living, he saw empires and clans of royalty fall and rebuild itself, being reborn. he didn't go out of his way to feel good, but he took whatever the universe offered to him. in this case, it was you.

when the surroundings suddenly changed to a much quieter one, where no one was bumping into each other, jungkook furrowed his eyebrows. it did not, however, take him long to notice that you were in the premises of your bedroom, the small plants on your windowsill being a huge clue.

“who are you?” you inquired, your voice scarcely audible. smirking, the man took a step forward. in contrast to his sparkling eyes, the moonlight from the window follows his body flawlessly, giving him a blue tone on his skin. you became aware of his exposed skin due to his lack of clothing. as you took in his powerful body, a flicker of longing tingled between your legs.

the man stayed deafeningly silent. instead, the man crept onto the bed, trailed by what appeared to be a shadow. you kept a tight eye on his every move because you couldn't move. you felt yourself spreading your legs wide as he crept over top of you. you had a tremendous want to feel him and be completely consumed by him.

despite being a demon, a sex demon (literally), jungkook still understood the morals of consent, making sure it was his top priority. after all, he wouldn't want it if he was in your position.

"are you okay with what's going to happen?" his words were like a captivating chime in your ears, quickly relaxing you and making you desire more. you found yourself placing our hands on his shoulders in order to feel his silky skin. how was it possible for a man to be both burning hot and icy cold at the same time? the dampness between your legs was unbearable, and you were drawn to him with all your might. your nipples perked beneath your shirt as you didn’t wear a bra to bed, you remembered. this made sense. something you remembered vividly. just a shirt and panties was all you wore to bed. clearly you must be dreaming, so you may as well indulge without regret.

"y-yes." you dropped your hands to grasp your shirt and pull it over your head to display your nakedness while looking into the man's eyes. with a hunger for your every move, he kept an eye on you. as he glanced over you, his throat vibrated with a palpable growl. you noticed he was completely hard as your gaze slid down your body with his. in a humble tone, you inquire, "is this real? this isn't a dream, is it?"

the man's grin makes your entire body twitch. you feel him quickly remove your underpants and fling it somewhere off the bed. you become acutely aware of the excitement between your legs as well as the heat emanating from his body. he lowers himself still more until he's right up against your door.

“would you prefer to be dreaming... or would you prefer to be here with me?” the man inquires, his tone innocent but with a sinister undertone.

when you reached for your thighs to give yourself some relief, there was nothing there. as your eyes scanned your surroundings, all you could feel was the chill of your own flesh. red. your vision was completely red. it was almost as if someone had brought in a red mood lamp and shone it throughout the room. it was entirely painted in a bright crimson color. your epidermis. the walls on all four directions. it was all red.

everything seemed hazy and perplexing, and you wondered where you were. you were in a new environment. some may even argue it was a living hell.

you sat up and wrapped yourself in the nearest blanket you could locate before standing up. warm wooden floorboards greeted your bare feet. “what?” kneeling down, you firmly pressed your hand on the wood once again to be sure you weren't hallucinating, but then again, what's to say you weren't hallucinating the whole thing?

'im not a lunatic... you thought to yourself as the warm sensation of the wood stretched across your palm. you straightened up and looked about your flat, trying to figure out what you could do about the red. you stood up straight and began to look around your apartment to see if there was anything you could do about the red. nibbling on your lower lip gently, you stood up straight and began to look around your apartment to see if there was anything you could do about the red.

the door to your bedroom squeaks open just as you were ready to turn on the light switch. the sound reverberated throughout the room with such eerie intensity that you were nearly persuaded your tv had turned back on and was showing yet another horror movie. then something happened. from your room, a man who could only be described as the devil strolled in as if he owned the place. you would be fascinated by this man's beauty if he hadn't just walked in like that. a scar runs from the left side of his jaw all the way down to his neck, giving him a strong jawline. his delicate yet sharp-looking features are caressed by soft wild hair, and his adorable small head is adorned with two pointy horns. it was the eyes, though, that drew your attention.

not the fact that he emerged from your room shirtless. nor the fact that he had claws and a commanding tail swishing back and forth. no, it was those soulless black eyes that were piercing right through you. your very being. you were in some type of trans as the mystery man - no, not man - thanks to those black coals. devil. That sounded more like it.

you couldn't take your gaze away, but as your feet shuffled you further away from this entity, they did all the thinking for you. it only appeared to encourage the beast to keep going before you pressed up against him and the wall. as you summoned the strength to speak up, your grip on the blanket trembled a little. “wh-what are you looking for?” your voice faded away quietly.

the devil had smirked at your frailty and little dread before running a clawed hand through your unkempt hair “i'm starving, my love.” before leaning in and drinking in your aroma, it spoke in the lowest, almost infantile voice. “won't you feed me nice and well, love? after all, you did want this to be real, right?” you weren't sure if it was the tone of his voice or the proximity, but you nodded in accord.

he grabbed your neck and ran his tongue across his lips before taking you into a harsh but passionate kiss. soft cherry red lips ravished your lips in a ravenous embrace while his hands roamed across your body, grasping and groping everything it could find.

a deep moan emerged from both of you as you felt the tightness of his jeans against your leg, causing a burning feeling. the burning of want burned through your skin everywhere he touched, everywhere he invaded with his mouth, hands, and body. it was almost a nasty, twisted euphoria that made your cunt clench around nothing in eagerness.

as the unnamed monster looked you up and down, an almost animalistic growl exited his throat as he took a deep inhale, you gasped for air. “love, you smell so fucking amazing for me.” he spoke in hushed tones through little pockets of air. “you're so delicious that i could devour you whole.”

the very thought of doing so appeared to amuse him, as he let out a brief but malicious laugh before narrowing his focus to the blanket still clinging to you.

with a scowl on his face, he clasped his larger hand around the one holding the blanket in place before yanking at it, only to have you keep it in place. the devil, with his head cocked to the side, gazed at you, perplexed, as if he didn't understand what you were doing.

“it's just that,” you murmured, tightening your jaw at the gaze those empty eyes gave you like a chill up your spine, "i feel comfortable like this...” you muttered the last bit, swallowing any spit you had.

but there was no justification or apology for him, so he raised his claw into the air and cut the blanket, ripping it open wide.

fear, as well as the lust racing through your veins, were clouding your judgment once more. the notion that his claws were so near to slicing you terrified you and turned you on like nothing you'd ever experienced. it gave a sense of how perilous it was to be so near to this creature, which was part of what made it so thrilling.

"baby, nothing is safe when i'm around."

those words, on the other hand, did it for you. you reached out to him as soon as you dropped the tattered blanket on the floor, exposing yourself to him. you drew him back into another intense kiss by wrapping your arms around him and springing up to wrap your legs around his waist. as he grasped your thighs to keep you in place, he was caught completely off guard by your sudden bravery.

each passing breath spent on one another battling for control, hips sliding up against each other as your damp panties rubbed up against his encaged dick, which was most definitely pressing painfully against the denim trousers he was wearing, made the kiss more hungry and animal-like. the cool contact of skin moving up against your back and down your underwear made you whimper.

despite his animalistic state, you always thought he was beautiful, a rare creature. "you're beautiful," you murmured, oblivious to the fact that you were saying it aloud. he laughed with his head tilted back. his neck was big and thick, but it was the raised markings that went all the way around it that caught your eye; they were woven together like chains, as if he had been choked with scorching metal.

the demon kissed you long and hard, barely pausing to breathe. His tongue was lengthy and had a split down the center. it was a novel experience that was strangely addictive. you became engrossed in the way it encircled your own. with his fangs, the monster simply paused to tug on your lower lip. as his hand moved down to your thigh, you let out a faint little groan.

he sang, “such a good girl,” as he drew you up into his arms. Jungkook snatched you up like feather. as you placed your legs around his tiny waist, his arms bulged. before he entered your room, he gave you a lengthy, scorching kiss. you had your arms around his neck, sliding your fingers through his hair and scraping against the base of one of his horns as an experiment.

the devil looked down at you as you lay on your bed, his crimson eyes flashing in the dim light. only those eyes and the white-tipped base of his horns could be seen with the moon blearily seeping through your blinds. it felt as though the monster beneath your bed had arrived to devour you. slowly, he moved his hand up the wall, flicking on the light and bathing you both in a golden glow.

you eventually let your gaze drift away from his, focusing on his toned chest, tight waist, and muscular thighs. when you noticed the bulge yearning to be freed from his pants, you licked your lips. he finally went closer, his lips brushing against yours as he crept between your legs. his hands crept up to the band of your shorts, the heat of his palm scorching and heavy on your bare thighs.

he yanked your shorts down your hips and flung them behind him as he kissed you. he tore through your shirt even quicker, softly cursing as he saw your naked breasts. you yanked on his shirt, trying to get a better look at him and to touch every scrap of exposed flesh you could discover. he sat back and yanked his shirt off, displaying golden skin stained with crimson ink and muscular abs that rippled with each breath. you were so focused on his appearance that you almost missed the expression in his eye as he glanced down at you.

“fuck, you look like an angel,” he said, reaching down to rip your panties apart, only to shred them. your moist lips were exposed by the chilly air as you gasped. at the sight, he bit his lower lip and groaned. “very gentle and plaint." slowly, he ran his hands down your body, starting at the rib cage and working their way down to your thighs.

his fingers became hotter and hotter along the way, till they were on the verge of burning. until he came to your knees and quickly shoved your legs apart and up, crimson streaks remained on your skin. smirking at your hiss of pain, his palms pushed your thigh back till they touched your chest. “so ready to be used,” he states.

"please do."

“well, angel, since you asked so nicely,” he leaned very close to your cunt and licked a lengthy strip. his forked tongue slithered inside your slit, relishing in the lengthy groan that came out of your mouth. he swirled above the opening for a minute, then slipped just the tip of it inside when you finally relaxed against him.

jungkook gradually started penetrating your pussy with his tongue. the warm, slithery appendage that slithers in and out of you with increasing ease, flicking at your g-spot and making you whine in delight. you exhaled with relief when he licked up to your clit, only to scream when he clamped his mouth over the delicate nub and sucked hard enough for you to see stars.

moans and groans emitted from your lips and the demon could have sworn he had never heard anything prettier. his mouth salivates against your lips, only causing him to dip down near your entrance and trail his tongue back to your little nub. oh how sweet you were.

"my angel's already close to cumming?" there was no denying that. he had already noticed you were quickly approaching your high by the way you tugged on his locks and the way your moans became higher in pitch.

the demon took two of his long fingers and slipped them into your pussy, a squelching noise emitting from the action. you tugged so hard on your lips that it was plump and swollen, the irony blood almost spilling from them. he quickly started pumping his fingers and curling it, sending you seeing stars. he wanted you to get ready for the real deal (aka his cock).

"god, please fuck me, please please i'm so close to cumming but i wanna cum on your cock, please," if it weren't for you sounding so pretty and desperate for him, the demon would have prolonged the foreplay.

“there is no ‘god' here,” he hissed, sliding two fingers inside your pussy and sucking hard on your clit as you almost shouted in delight. his fingers curled within you quickly, drawing you closer to the brink. your fingers ran aimlessly through his hair, yanking it back to keep him near. you scratched on one of his horns with your nails.

it wasn't until another orgasm crashed upon you that the demon stopped.

you were spent; messy hair, hazy eyes, drool dripping down your chin and onto your neck and some parts of your chest.

as sly as a fox, you felt jungkook pressing his heavy length on your clit, the warmth and hardness of it evident in the way it pressed up against the little nub. jungkook evilly rutted against the bundle, sending sharp pleasures erupting from the mere action.

you thought he would stop at a few thrusts, however, jungkook had other plans in mind. those being seeing you completely helpless underneath him (not like you weren't before).

with one more came a push, your insides clenching and squeezing the head of his cock like a vice. jungkook stills above you; only the tip in and you're already this tight? he allows a shaky breath to reveal itself from his throat, the sound coming out a little more strangled and choked that he intended it to be.

you took him inch by glorious inch. the two of you reveled in the pleasure, drinking off of each other's moans and heat.

the rest of the night was spent in each other's arms. it wasn't romantic, but it sure as hell was full of pleasure.

[therenlover]

In Fleeting Touches & Airy Sighs Chapter One (A Three Chapter Helmut Zemo/Reader Fanfic)

(Thank you to the wonderful anon who requested angst and smut between Zemo and the reader because Zemo had to be away from her on the run!)

Synopsis: A year after working together with Zemo in the events of Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Sam and Bucky seek him out once again in need of shelter from John Walker. Meanwhile, Zemo’s wife resents his absence and prepares for guests.

Tags: Flashbacks, Depression, Alcoholism, Separation Anxiety, Arguing, Struggling Marriage, Reunions

Rating: T (E in future chapters)

Warnings: Guns, Swearings, Reader shows signs of alcoholism/alcohol abuse, Reader uses a hot shower as a mild form of self harm

Word Count: 5000~

This fic has been crossposted under the same title to my AO3!

----------

Helmut Zemo was not often a man backed into a corner.

He was smart, resourceful, and had nothing left to lose. If it came down to the line, he would do whatever had to be done within his morals to achieve his goals, even if that goal was simply staying alive. The Baron bowed to no man, and made his enemies, no matter their size, fall to their knees with sheer wit instead of brute strength. That’s why, when he stood backed into an alley with the barrel of James Barnes’ gun to his forehead as the Falcon watched on, it was strange that he didn’t try to weasel his way out.

“We need answers,” Sam said, hands in the pockets of his dark hoodie. Bucky wore a similar one, only he wore a baseball cap instead of keeping his hood up. “How the hell did you break out of prison for a second time?”

Usually, Zemo would have replied with a clever quip. He had never been one to back down from a fight. This time, though, he looked almost frightened as he raised his arms in defeat. “I got in contact with friends on the outside during our short adventure together. They decided to help me out once I was re-incarcerated, willingly I might add. I had no part in the plan, but who would look a gift horse in the mouth?”

“And I guess I’m just supposed to assume you had no part in getting my pardon revoked?” Bucky spat.

“If you hadn’t noticed, James, I’ve left you alone,” A hint of his usual mockery slipped into Helmut’s tone, but he quickly pulled it back, “Believe what you want about me, but I’ve had some time since last year to… re-evaluate my feelings on the world. You had no choice but to do the things you did as the Winter Soldier, and as long as you pose no threat to society now I have no qualms with you,”

Despite the strangeness of Zemo’s response Bucky remained unphased. Sam, on the other hand, was less stoic.

“Man, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but the government is looking for Bucky and I harder than they’re looking for you, and it’s kind of all your fault, so excuse me for not giving a shit about your supposed sudden change of heart!”

“Can we get to the point? I’m afraid my flight leaves in an hour and I would hate to be late,”

“Cut the bullshit!” There Bucky went, pushing the cold metal closer to Zemo’s furrowed forehead.

“Bucky...” Sam warned.

“No, Sam, I can do this. Did you or did you not actively attempt to get my pardon revoked when you took us to Madripoor? Because thanks to you, a worse symbol than Sam is now standing unchecked with the title of Captain America AND he has access to the last of the new super soldier serum AND he’s trying to get us killed so we can’t tell the world about the awful shit he does,”

“I-” Zemo went to speak and, for the first time since he had met him, Sam believed he was being genuine. There was a tremble that made its way through him, all the way to his raised hands and even his voice. It was enough that Bucky even lowered the gun minutely. “I understood that by following my lead, the both of you were risking a lot. I didn’t intend any specific malice with my actions though, no. If I may… the two of you have attracted a lot of attention here in the past few days. I assume Walker is very close to finding you?”

Sam and Bucky shared a look before Sam responded. “Maybe, why?”

“I have a safe house,” he continued, “I don’t stay there often so the location isn’t compromised, but it’s my next stop. Might I suggest we take this conversation on the road? I would hate to host your reunion with Mr. Walker in an alley over my corpse,”

There was a moment of complete stillness. Zemo remained, face dark with that strange deer-in-headlights look, a perfect statue, as the barrel of Bucky’s gun remained pointed firmly in his direction and Sam shared what seemed to be a completely silent conversation with Bucky. It was true that they had been burned before. Zemo was a man with his own agenda who did what it took to fulfill it. That being said, he had returned willingly with them back to prison before he was broken out, and without his help, the band of freshly minted super soldiers would still be running around Europe causing chaos. In the end, Bucky lowered his gun slowly before tucking it away into his boot holster.

Zemo grinned.

“Don’t think this means we trust you,” Sam groaned, pointing a finger at the man.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Now, gentlemen, I believe we have a plane to catch,”

As the trio began to make their way out of the alley Bucky and Sam fell to the flank of the group. “Do you really think this is a good idea?” Bucky asked, eyes darting between his two companions. Sam shrugged.

“At this point, I’m doing whatever it takes to get home to my family in one piece. If that means I have to ride in Zemo’s stupid private jet again and lay low for a while, then that’s what I’m gonna do, because Sarah and those kids don’t deserve to lose me all over again,”

“But don’t you think he’s acting a little… weird?”

“Don’t worry, I have my eye on him. If he tries anything we can just throw him out front when Walker tries to shoot us,”

“You’re doing a very poor job of concealing your conversation,” Zemo shouted.

Bucky stormed ahead as Sam laughed.

“Oh, shut up!”

Surprisingly, the drive to the airstrip was mostly uneventful, as was the relatively short flight from Zurich to Avignon. There was, of course, the usual cutthroat banter and tension so thick you could feel it like a fog hanging over the group, but in an unusual twist of fate, the baron did very little to initiate. Of course, he wasn’t fully innocent though. He never was. That being said, even as his chauffeur carefully navigated the stone roads to the dropoff point he was strangely quiet. He had texted someone earlier to have the house prepared for their arrival but he kept looking down at the phone as if a response would come. It didn’t.

Sam appreciated the break from the noise. To him, it was a moment of peace after a few months of constant opposition. For the duration of the trip, he had chosen to shoot a few choice quips Bucky’s way before taking a long nap. Bucky, on the other hand, was only growing more suspicious of Zemo by the minute.

After his time with Hydra, Bucky had become intimately acquainted with the type of man that Zemo was. He was ruthless, driven by ideals that couldn’t be changed by any amount of debate or theory read inside a prison cell, and willing to do whatever it took to fulfill those ideals no matter the cost. There was remorse but no regret. A man like that doesn’t just stop believing in the thing that led him to kill dozens if not hundreds of people, because once the impetus is gone so is the only thing upholding their sense of self.

In basic terms, he was hiding something. Bucky was intent on finding out what that thing was, a thing important enough to make Zemo of all people shut the hell up and tell his enemies exactly where his safe house was, and he wasn’t going to rest until he did. The answer came easily enough in the end, but not before Sam and Bucky were forced face to face with the strangest thing they had ever seen, even when including aliens and wizards. That thing was Zemo buying flowers.

The trio had gotten out of the car somewhere around the center of the city and continued towards the safe house on foot. A few minutes after they started, though, Zemo had spoken.

“I apologize, but I’ll have to stop for a moment,” He said, holding up a hand to alert the two men trailing him to the fact that he was about to stop. Sam quirked up an eyebrow.

“At a flower shop?”

There, to the right of them, was a small fleuriste. The window was a burst of bright color. Pinks, reds, whites, purples; a certain bunch of spring blooms had caught Zemo’s eye. He shrugged. “It’s rude to arrive at someone’s house asking for a favor without a gift, Mr. Wilson. Excuse me,”

With a comfort that said he had been into the shop many times, Zemo walked through the door and began conversing with the shop owner in perfect French, even referring to her as tu instead of vous as he made his purchase.

“Did he just say someone’s house ?” Sam asked Bucky, eyes widening.

Bucky gritted his teeth. “Yeah, I think he did,”

“So, we’re just showing up at someone’s door,”

“Yup. Not to mention they’re someone who aligns themself with him,”

A groan escaped from Sam as he ran his hand down his face in disbelief. “I didn’t expect much from Zemo, but damn,”

“It’s your fault for expecting anything from Zemo in the first place,”

“For once, you’re right,”

They dawdled for a moment. As their conversation stilled, Zemo returned, now burdened by a sizable bouquet from the window. Around them, the city was starting to get off of work. Families walked together as businesses had their 5 o’clock shift change. Somehow as the world around them came to life it didn’t look at Sam and Bucky with anything more than a passing glance. They were tourists, nothing more. For a moment Sam understood why Zemo would go to a place like this for safety and anonymity.

Without ceremony, the trio began walking towards their destination once again.

“I apologize for the delay,” Zemo said, keeping his pace brisk and remaining about a foot ahead of his companions, “I suppose it’s become a bit of a habit that I buy Y/N flowers whenever I come back. We shouldn’t be long now, though, the house is just a few more blocks away, maybe 3 minutes by foot,”

“Y/N?” Bucky asked. The name felt heavy on his tongue, familiar. That had to be a coincidence though. Zemo would never align himself with anyone who had worked for Hydra, and there was no other place he could have heard that name and had it hold any significance. Right?

Zemo chuckled. “Y/N is our host. I’d appreciate it if you tried to maintain some semblance of respect when we arrive, she tends to have quite the temper and it would reflect badly on me if she believed I was asking her to indefinitely house two people who would happily send her to prison,”

“About that,” Sam chimed in, “Who the hell are we about to be staying with? It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I don’t, and by extension, I also don’t tend to trust people who trust you,”

“I assure you, Sam, Y/N is more trustworthy to you than I will ever be,”

“That doesn’t answer my question, nor does it make me feel any better,”

“She’s American, and like you, she is seeking shelter from the government. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“Man, at this point I feel like you’re not telling us because she’s actually some sort of crazy Sokovian sleeper agent who’s gonna stab us in the back while we sleep. Am I crazy, Buck, or am I right?”

Bucky, who had been trying his best to stay out of the conversation, replied. “You are being unnecessarily evasive, Zemo, though that’s nothing new…”

“Right? Like, I’m really grateful that you’re lending us a hand, but I’ve gotta be honest, if I think for a second things are going south-”

Sam never got to finish his sentence.

Suddenly, Zemo stopped short, turning around and looking Bucky in the eye with a madness neither he nor Sam had ever seen before. His whole body was stiff, rigid. The hand that wasn’t cradling the flowers delicately was gripped in a fist at his side. He looked angry, but underneath the anger, he really just looked scared. “You will not touch her. Do you hear me? Do what you’d like with me, I have made choices worthy of punishment, but you will not touch Y/N. If you so much as think of it, all bets are off. Do you understand me?”

Bucky nodded, sharp. This was certainly interesting. Sam just smirked.

“Is there something else you want to tell us?”

Zemo walked up a small set of stairs towards a home to their right. “No, Mr. Wilson, I don’t believe so,”

The building was a nice one, all tan stone with dark wrought-iron fixtures on its many windows. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like a normal midtown manor-house for some upper-class member of the community. The normalcy of it all hid its true purpose in plain sight. It was genius, really. Over a dividing wall made of the same yellowing stone, Sam could see a small sliver of vibrant green garden space and a pool at the side of the building.

With a steadying breath, Zemo knocked on the door.

“You have to knock on the door of your own safe house?” There was a hint of incredulity in Bucky’s voice as he crossed his arms. This was going to be a disaster. Why had they agreed to this again?

“A little etiquette goes a long way, James, especially when you’re already in the doghouse,” Then, the door opened.

Bucky froze. There, standing in the doorway with a pistol in her hand and a fire in her eyes, was a woman he thought long dead: you. This couldn’t be right! He had killed you back in ‘02 with the rest of the AAHR...

You quirked up an eyebrow at Zemo.

“Give me one reason I should let you in and not shoot you on the spot,”

They were so fucked.

________________

The day, on your end of the world, had gone by much slower.

It started off like any other, with the alarm on your bedside table blaring as you opened your eyes and your arms reached out into the emptiness in the sheets beside you. Sometimes, when Helmut’s flight got in late enough, you would wake up and reach to the side only to find that he had appeared beside you in the night. Those were the best kind of reunions. They were free of pretense, no bitterness or resentment clouded your sleep-heavy brain when you opened your eyes to his peaceful resting face, and you could simply fall into the comforting rhythm of husband and wife. If you reunited with a clear head things tended not to go as well.

You groaned. It wasn’t as if there was even a guarantee he would come back, especially not after the way you’d left things last time. The philosophy of attendre et espérer, waiting and hoping like an Edmond Dantés type, wouldn’t do you any good, at least not anymore.

Maybe it was time to start moving on…

Tomorrow. You could start thinking about the next steps tomorrow. For today you’d enjoy what you had.

Getting out of bed was difficult but you managed. The sun streamed through the curtains that billowed gently in the breeze near your balconette, brilliant gold beams illuminating the dust that danced in the air. The first thing you did was shuffle along to the corner and pour yourself two fingers of brandy from Helmut’s private collection. It was like a morning ritual these days, a numbing agent against the loneliness. Once the drink was downed you moved on to the closet to get dressed.

Dressing yourself wasn’t of much importance these days. You couldn’t exactly leave the house, and nobody was visiting, so more often than not, it was easier to just wear the same pajamas for a few days until you knew Oeznik would be around to drop off groceries. Today, though, you felt… filthy. Not dirty in a physical way, just sticky and filthy and unclean under your skin and in your very heart. Maybe a shower would help.

You looked around the closet with a clinical eye. It was difficult to be in there, surrounded by lavish dresses and expensive suits that you and your husband had worn arm in arm while plotting the downfall of the Avengers before your unsteady alliance had turned into so much more. Everything still smelled like his cologne. In the small, often-closed, walk-in closet, the scent had only intensified, covering every article of clothing with a fog of cedarwood and sage. It made you sick, choked the air from your lungs and left you gasping for even a single breath that didn’t sit heavy on your tongue with the bitter taste of that familiar musk.

The alcohol had helped. It always did. The remnants of its burn in your mouth formed a sort of guard against the scent of the closet as you searched through a pile of shirts for something soft and easy to wear. Your hands suddenly stilled.

“Zemo, I’m gonna be honest, this is the ugliest sweater I’ve ever seen in my entire life,”

“I’m hurt! That’s one of my favorites,”

“Where did you even get it, a 90-year-old grandpa’s closet? Jesus Christ, it looks like something out of a shitty 70’s flick about family values,”

“I’ll have you know that I thrifted that sweater. It’s very eco-conscious you know,”

Your heart hurt. Well, no, your whole body hurt, but your heart ached a little more prominently as you carefully picked up the sweater and held it to your chest. It was terribly ugly, 4 sizes too big even on Helmut and covered in an olive and forest green argyle. Somehow he was always able to pull off the oversized thing no matter how ridiculous you had always insisted you found it. When was the last time he’d worn it again?

The memory evaded you.

Still, it was a happy relic, happier than most of the monuments to a failing marriage that lined the shelves of your beautiful personal prison. It wouldn’t hurt to hope that by wearing it, you might rub just a little bit of that lost happiness off onto your present-day, right? With one last forlorn glance around the closet, you gathered up the sweater and a pair of jeans before getting out as fast as you could. With the scent of cologne clinging to you, the shower wasn’t just a good idea now, it was necessary.

So, you showered. You took the stupid foot-long exfoliating brush Helmut loved so much and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed yourself under the near-boiling stream of water until your skin was pink and raw. Disappointingly, even the new skin felt filthy. It was better, though, less intense. With some lotion and a little bit of Neosporin on the fresh patches of blotchy red, you were able to feel okay. Not good. Not clean. Just… okay. At least you didn’t smell like him anymore. The clock read 12:14 when you finally made it out of the bathroom in search of some real food.

Lunch, if you could call it that, was a silent affair. The fridge was almost empty and the pantry was only a little less bare, so you threw together a cheese sandwich, not even bothering to waste butter and grill it. You ate it plain with another glass of brandy out on the pool deck. It was gone sooner than you hoped it would be.

Oh well.

You finished your brandy with a sigh. Only seven or eight more hours until you could finish your day with a few more drinks and pass out in bed until nine or ten once again. Ah, dreamless sleep. That sounded divine. Now if only you could fathom any non-depressing way to spend the time between sleeping and waking. Swimming was out, the chemicals would burn your freshly eviscerated skin. Playing solitaire for the fourth day in a row sounded like absolute hell on earth. Even watercolors, a usual calming respite from the torturous and neverending monotony of life trapped alone in a house you had no help in stocking, were off the table ever since you’d run out of paper.

Somewhere inside the house, your phone dinged.

The second the sound hit your ears you jumped, dropping your glass and letting it shatter into a thousand tiny shards on the stone of the patio.

Phones were a difficult thing to own for someone who was trying to stay out of the eyes of the government. They were too easy to track and could tip off enemies to your location with very little error needed on your part. Even searching the internet for innocent things was too risky. If your search history was too similar to that of the alias you had used before Helmut went to prison, it would have been easy for them to find a connection and send someone to track you down. Still, you kept a cell phone charged and ready on the kitchen counter despite the risk for one reason and one reason only: Emergency contact with your husband.

He never texted from the same number on more than one occasion, always switching from burner phone to burner phone as he flew across the country doing god knows what, but if he was ever in a situation where emergency contact with you was needed, he was able to reach you at your number immediately. It had only happened a couple of times, and each time he had been in a considerable amount of danger. So, when you suddenly heard the sound you dreaded more than anything else in the world, you were quick to rush inside, even ignoring the shattered glass at your feet as you shoved through the doors and found the phone.

The small, LED display was lit up with the notification. It made your heart both soar and sink.

Flying home with two guests. Prepare the two rooms for their stay. We will be there by 5 at the latest - B

You read over the message several times before letting the phone fall from your hand and back onto the counter with a dull thud.

That absolute asshole.

Three months. Three months you had spent sitting alone. Three months without a call, or a text, or a letter, or even a word of when he was coming back by way of Oeznik. Three months! And after three months of loneliness and sleepless nights and empty bottles on the drink cart he reaches out through an emergency line of contact that almost certainly means he might be dying only to tell you he’s bringing two strangers into your safe house, the place even he refuses to stay in too long in order to not give its location away. The scar on your spine was starting to burn as you leaned up against the counter and cried.

It was ridiculous to think you had ever believed him capable of more tact than that.

Really, it was your fault. From the beginning, you’d had too much faith in a man incapable of being trustworthy, even to those closest to him. You knew that, and yet you had married him. Maybe the soft touches and sweet lies he had spoon-fed you had made you weak. Maybe you always had been.

“I’m not a child, Helmut, I know what I’m doing!”

“I don’t think you do,” he shouted. He was a few drinks in now, you both were. The nights before his departures never tended to end well when you both drank. “Because no matter what I do to protect you, you have the need to disobey me! Have you considered that I do the things I do for your own good!”

“Oh! Oh yes, the things YOU do!” You slammed your glass down on the table as you stormed over to Helmut, “I sit here all day like a fucking dog in a cage while you fly to fucking Ibiza and flirt with supermodels, but YOUR story is just so fucking tragic! I’m your wife, Helmut! I’m not an animal or your property, I’m your goddamn wife! You can’t just order me to sit and stay like a dog,”

He glared down at you, eyes hawkish and glinting in the low lamplight. For the first time in years, he looked threatening, “You may not be a dog, or a child, or my property, but you are a weapon! It’s my job to keep you here, away from the-”

“Excuse me?” You interrupted. The two of you stood, inches away and yet miles apart. Slowly, the drive in Helmut’s eyes faltered. “Say that again. I dare you,”

“Schatz, I-”

“No, Helmut, you meant it so say it again. Call me that again. I fucking dare you,” Tears were streaming down your face now. He took a step towards you, hand extended to wipe them away, but you were quick to take a step back out of his reach.

“You misunderstood me,”

“I don’t think there was anything to misunderstand,”

You swept the shards of your glass tumbler into a dustpan, hands still shaking even ten minutes after you’d read Helmut’s message to you. As you worked, your last conversation before he’d left echoed in your mind.

How had it all devolved into that? It wasn’t hard to remember Helmut before prison, jaded and broken and lonely. He had been so much like you and yet so different. Each of you seemed to be the perfect balm for the others' wounds. In the end, despite all of his flaws, you had found yourself in love. Now that he was a different man, was that love gone? You couldn’t say. All you knew for sure was that you weren’t nearly drunk enough to be facing the confusing feelings in your brain. With the last of your energy, you emptied the dustpan of glass into the trash can and returned to the house, sweater itchy against your irritated skin, to ready the guest rooms.

The job wasn’t a long one. You had never used the guest rooms in all the time you’d spent at the Avignon property, so the sheets were already clean. There was just a thin layer of dust on the furniture that needed to be swept away as you checked to make sure the dressers were bare and the bathrooms were stocked with amenities. Then, when that was done, you were left to your thoughts as the hours ticked by.

Most of the time you spent sitting on the couch doing absolutely nothing. It sounded terrible, and in all honesty it was, but what else could you do? The house was already spotless so cleaning wasn’t an option, and you didn’t quite feel like doing much of anything as you stared at the clock and tried to remember a time when your life was less of a disaster. As it got closer to five, though, you started to get antsy.

You had tried your best to not think about the obvious issue of the guests. Zemo was not the type to threaten his home, even if he wasn’t happy with you, so usually having anyone who wasn’t Oeznik or another paid lackey aware of the location of your safe house would be a big no in his book, but then you started thinking of the implications of him bringing people into your home. Your home, not his. Was he on his way to kill you? It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Or maybe he was bringing your replacement.

Now that thought made anger bubble up in your throat. You were no stranger to the idea that when your husband was away, he could be doing anything. There was no guarantee when he slept in lavish hotels or drank the night away in elite lounges that he kept his wedding ring on. The fact that there were two guests meant it was unlikely he was bringing two mistresses, but never impossible. Nothing was impossible when it came to Helmut.

No, it was more likely he had finally decided it was time to end your suffering. The shouts and boisterous laughter that started to sound directly outside of the front room window only confirmed the for you. Slowly, you crept towards the door and grabbed a small pistol from its place in the umbrella stand. If he wanted you dead you weren’t going to go without a fight.

Through the curtains on the front door, you could just barely make out the trio. When you saw them your blood ran cold. It was one thing if he needed help to take you down, but getting the Winter Soldier on board? Your rage only grew by the minute.

Helmut said something, probably planning the best course of action to catch you off guard, and you sneered. Two could play at that game. When he knocked on the door you opened it calmly and held the gun with your finger just barely ghosting over the trigger.

Everyone froze.

“Give me one reason I should let you in and not shoot you on the spot,” you said, rage coursing through every nerve in your body. You may have been in retirement for quite a few years, but you still knew how to handle a gun. Everyone there, except maybe the Falcon, knew that. As Zemo went to open his mouth, you prepared for a firefight.

“Because I brought you flowers,”

-------------

a/n: Sorry that only one chapter is out! The fic is just getting very long and complicated and I wanted to make sure you got as much as possible before the next episode drops lol. I’ll be working pretty much nonstop from now until then, though, so the next parts should be out soon!

TAGLIST: @tatestripedsweater​ , @elaineygrace​, @multiyfandomgirl40​ ,  @lovelymischief​ , @rami-malek-trash​ , @dazzlingseb​, @avgravy​ , @sarahsilver , @wh0re-4-techno​ , @forcebros​ , @sugarsweetkiss​ , @grandmuffinsharkbailiff​ , @killsandthrills​ , @novasstudy​ , @thnksfr-ptrkstmp​ , @inmate-marmalade​, @alanathedeer​ , @mossybank​ , @simsiddy​ , @xxspqcebunsxx​ 

Please do not post my work on other sites, thank you!

[gale-gentlepenguin]

ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 37

Shout out to @asongeverlasting for beta reading for me and making sure I actually got this out.

Check her writing out on AO3 as Ramblingwren

(Master post)

(Read the fic in a more condensed on Ao3)

(The latest chapter will be up on there once this reaches over 300 notes on tumblr)

_____________________________________________________________

Simularé looked out over the city from the top of the school.  Using her replicated powers, she took the form of Volpina so they'd be able to alter the illusion quickly should something pop out and accidentally reveal the true form of the school. Thankfully the sentimonster didn’t need to do much in order to maintain the illusion; Paris was a surprisingly quiet city.

As far as they could tell, no one in the city outside of the school had any idea what was going on. And that worked out perfectly for them.

“So, this is where Lila has you stationed,” a voice called out, resulting in the faux fox turning around. The figure behind them was a woman clad in dark blue, with blue skin and a feathery fan. She looked confident and the sentimonster instinctively felt that this individual was very much aware of what it was.

Mayura had quickly deduced it was the sentimonster as it was in Lila’s previous akuma form, Volpina. With Lila now Masquerade, it was unlikely she would choose to take such a form. She would likely want to stay in her new form to show it off.

“Do not be alarmed, Simularé, it is your creator. Mayura,” Mayura spoke again.

The shapeshifter leveled a sharp glare at the woman. What made her so certain of that?

“How do I know that is true?” Simularé questioned.

The villainess took a moment to examine the sentimonster. Mayura had to admit that this sentimonster was her finest work to date. The amount of emotion harnessed from Lila to create it made it far more unique, much less of a mindless creature than her previous creations. Amoks were created much like akuma were, locking on to intense emotions before sending off. But unlike akuma, amok can be shaped and tailored with enough focus. Simularé was a special case, as it was made from the conclave of emotions that Lila was experiencing during her breakdown. It had been quite difficult to focus on one specific feeling but Mayura had pushed through. Simularé was sculpted to be Lila’s ideal ally, but it was also so much more than a simple asset. This Amok embodied Lila’s core personality. Her cleverness, her cunning, her mistrust of others, her playfulness, her pride and so much more. To put it simply, this Sentimonster was Lila’s spirit given a new form.

“Trust me Simularé, you would be best not to ask that,” Mayura warned.

The sentimonster felt as if it was being talked down to and clearly did not approve of anyone talking to them in such a tone, save for its master. It charged at the peacock villainess, ready to make contact, But, before it could get close, Mayura stuck out her hand and pinched her fingers together, causing the sentimonster to feel as if some force was pulling its essence out. The pain it felt was indescribable! It felt as if its very being was being ripped out. Mayura was in range to sense the Amok and could easily remove it without difficulty, much like Hawkmoth could with an akuma. Though Mayura had a feeling that letting the Sentimonster know that keeping her out of range of the item was the key to its survival would not be wise. It was best in this moment to display power.

“Stop! Please!” Simularé begged. “I … I believe you! I will do whatever you ask, just please stop the pain!”

The villainess smiled, it seemed there was even more to this Sentimonster than Mayura had anticipated. It had a powerful sense of self preservation, something controlled sentimonsters didn’t seem to have. She took note of that.

“Good. Now, you are going to explain to me your master’s end goal and where Ladybug and Chat Noir are in the building.”

Simularé felt the grip that Mayura had on its essence and held back its burning resentment towards the blue bird villainess. She would behave. For now.

“Okay… I will tell you everything.”

_____________________________________________________________

“Duck!” Ladyice called out as she had Ice Noir lower their bodies to avoid oncoming ice projectiles.

“Surprising that she's only attacking us with ice. She's Stormy weather. You'd think she would be attacking with more, maybe some rain or like a vol....” Ice Noir commented.

“Don't talk about that! Do not give her any ideas!”

The two had skated out of the room and made their way through the now icy hallway while Stormy Weather gave chase.

“I was just saying it seems weird how...mediocre her attacks are.

“It’s like we saw before, the akuma servants are like robots, they can’t react quickly so changing up her powers is likely just as much of a problem. She's probably not as dangerous as we initially thought.”

“So maybe we should face this problem head on now that we aren’t cornered?”

Ice Noir changed direction and began skating towards the umbrella-wielding akuma.

Stormy Weather noticed the approaching cat and raised her umbrella, creating a mighty gale to blow him back and ending him flying past Ladyice to the end of the hallway.

“She can use her other powers… can confirm,” Ice noir commented as he got off the wall, still dazed.

Ladyice skated up to the dazed cat and helped stabilize him. Despite seeming like a wasted effort, the cat’s brash antics actually inspired Ladyice with a way to take her out.

“I just figured out how we can stop her, think you can give her one last charge for me?”

“Why Bugaboo, asking me to rush headfirst into danger? How heartless.” He feigned hurt.

Ladybug rolled her eyes.

“Silly Kitty. Just be ready to hang in there when she blasts you with wind. Don’t get blown back this time.”

“Got it.”

Ice Noir quickly skated across the ice as he drew his weapon. He was ready for her this time.

“Hey breezy weezy! The weather today was supposed to be sunny with a 20% chance of raining Cats and Dogs!” Ice Noir called out, clearly happy with his lame joke.

Stormy Weather saw the cat approaching once again and prepared to send another wind blast at him.

But the cat was prepared this time around and extended his staff to anchor himself to the walls on either side.

“Nice try!” Ice Noir snarked. “But a small little puff of wind won't blow me back again.”

The storm akuma decided instead of creating just another wind blast, she was going to step it up with a cyclone attack! A powerful tornado tunnel would surely blast the cat down for good.

“We were wrong! She can amp up the power too!” Ice Noir exclaimed as he held onto his staff with all his might while his body was being blown back by the massive winds. “This was not well thought out!”

He focused on digging his claws into his staff and doing his best to remain in the wind tunnel. The powerful winds blew into his face and he could see Stormy Weather slowly approaching.

“I don’t think I can hold on much longer, Ladyice!”

He felt his grip slipping. Any second now, he was going to get blown back.

“Don’t worry, Kitty. I got this.”

Stormy Weather didn’t get a chance to react when she felt something tackle her full force and rush her into the wall on the opposite end of the hallway.

The wind died down and Ice Noir was able to land on his skates. He released his grip on his staff and fixed his windblown hair to resemble its original state before quickly skating down the hall to help his partner.

“Nice job, Ladyice.”

The red-clad heroine stood up from her grapple with the storm akuma.

“Actually…”

Ice Noir looked up to see that his partner had shifted power ups. Her skates and ice skater aesthetic were replaced with a suit that had red spacesuit-like plating, a jetpack with retractable wings with red and light blue colors that matches her helmet.

She had changed into her space form, Cosmobug.

“Space power up! Because you can fly through the wind! Genius!”

Cosmobug smiled.

“Well, Stormy Weather is dazed but probably not for long.”

The two heroes noticed her about to grab her umbrella, but Chat Noir’s cat-like reflexes helped him snatch it first.

“Oh no you don’t!”

Ice Noir broke the umbrella over his knee.

“I don’t think she will be as mobile without her powers.”

Stormy Weather tried to stand but slipped on the icy floor she had created.

“Let’s just make our way to the boss,” Cosmobug said. She used the jet on her back to swoop up Ice Noir and fly slowly down the icy hall.

“Just like you to sweep me off my feet. But don’t think I will be a smitten kitten like usual.”

“Oh? Is that so?” The bug heroine raised an eyebrow. “It’s hard to imagine that you haven’t been dreaming about this scenario.”

“It helps that you aren’t riding a horse with the wind blowing in your hair,” Chat Noir joked back, catching Ladybug’s teasing.

Cosmobug quickly moved them to a part of the hall where there was no ice. Both undid their potion transformations, reverting back to their usual hero forms.

“Not keeping the jetpack?” Chat Noir asked. “It is really cool.”

“The room halls are pretty limited, and there's not much mobility, otherwise I might have,” Ladybug confessed.

The two heroes took a moment to catch their breaths and figure out their surroundings.

“We should thank Stormy Weather.”

The cat looked at his partner skeptically, remembering how a few minutes ago, the wind had nearly sent him flying through a brick wall.

“What makes you say that?”

“Lila probably had Stormy Weather out and about to flush out other people in the school and make sure the area was difficult to traverse. She likely sent out a bunch of other akuma to do the same, which means her forces are scattered and we have a better shot of dealing with her with fewer obstacles.”

Chat Noir nodded. He would not have deduced such a thing from one encounter with a weather akuma.

“Good to know, so the plan is to locate her and save the day.”

“No need to figure out where she is, I already have a good idea where she should be.”

Chat Noir noticed Ladybug had already started moving. He quickly followed behind, though he didn’t need an explanation this time. He already knew where Ladybug was heading — to his homeroom class, but he couldn’t say that without revealing what he knew.

_____________________________________________________________

‘This was a ridiculous decision.’

That was the thought running through Chloé’s mind as she ran for her life from a large group of Reflekta clones.

The two or three she had run into early were easy to avoid, but now it seemed like a horde of those tacky clones. And all of the ice that surrounded certain hallways made it impossible to traverse. She was limited in her running space and she was running out. But what made it all worse was that now those Reflekta copies had adjusted to running.

“HOW CAN YOU RUN IN THOSE HEELS!?” Chloé screamed as she ran down the hall.

She just had to try and be a hero. Why was she even doing this? The assistant probably got turned into one of those gross clones or got masked like those other students. She could have just sat back and just waited for Ladybug and Chat noir to find her or let them handle it.

“You can’t run forever” The crowd of clones sang in Rather impressive and creepy harmony.

Chloé took a turn down the hall and went into the door of the nearest room.

She closed the door and locked it before smelling the musty wet air.

“What the… EWW!” She spat in disgust as she realized she had locked herself in a janitor’s closet.

“Why did it have to be in such a gross smelly room?” she moaned.

Unfortunately, her comments caught the attention of the crowd chasing her.

She heard banging on the door.

“You can’t hide, we will find.”

Chloe put her back to the door to keep them out and felt herself slide down it in despair.

Was this how it was going to end? Getting turned into one of those fashion nightmares after hiding out in such a rank smelling closet? She didn’t even save… wait. She did save someone. She saved that old man. It hadn't been glamorous, but she did manage to save at least one person.

“I guess I did do something good after all. May not have been exceptional… but it was something.” Chloé smiled for a brief moment.

She took a moment to look at the positives, Ladybug and Chat Noir would likely come in and save the day, plus there were those other two heroes. Perhaps that would be enough. But she had to admit, finding solace in that was getting harder to do when the smell of the closet was destroying her nostrils. Just then, she remembered she had some nice perfume in her bag that she could spray to alleviate the smell.

“Well, at least I won’t smell awful when they capture me.”

She put her hand in her bag and felt around for her perfume. As she searched, she felt an unfamiliar object in her designer handbag. She pulled it out.

“What is this?”

She noticed a note on top of it. It was a bit dark to read so she pulled out her phone and turned on her flashlight.

“Return to Ladybug after mission?”

Chloé’s eyes went wide. Could this be what she thought it was? How was it possible? She didn’t have time to question it.

She opened the box and out came a floating bee creature, who Chloé recognized right away. It was real.

“Pollen!” Chloé exclaimed with cheer.

“It has been a while, my queen.” the bee kwami said.

Chloé would have loved to revel in this moment more but she knew that door was going to burst open any minute. She needed to be the bee heroine.

“As much as I would love to talk more, we need to hurry. We have some akuma clones that need bashing.”

“Right away, my queen!”

Chloe put the bee miraculous in her hair.

“Pollen, Buzz on!”

_____________________________________________________________

“It is a good thing there are so many copies,” Ryuuko stated as she leaped over a few Reflekta copies.

Viperion swerved and dodged the replicas of his sister’s akumatized form while avoiding getting caught in the bubbles that froze them and floated them up in the air.

Deadzone had been doing a lot of friendly fire thanks to its single minded obsession.

“After this, I really hope I never have to see my sister take this form again,” Viperion commented.

“Right, Adrien mentioned that you were Juleka’s brother. Older brother, right?”

“Older twin brother. But yes.”

“Really? You seem older.”

“I am a grade ahead of her, but we are the same age,” he explained.

“Could have sworn you were at least a year or two older.”

“A lot of people think the same thing. Even my mom forgets, sometimes. Rose, my sister’s girlfriend, says I radiate ‘big brother energy’ or something.”

“You learn something new.”

“What about you? Any siblings?”

“Sadly no. I was an only child.”

“Too bad, I think you would have made a great older sister,” Viperion encouraged

“A snake charmer, are we?”

“Well I am the snake, and I am not charming myself, so I think the more correct term would be dragon charmer.”

“Change that to fun killer because you killed my fun right there.”

Before Viperion could retort, they had made their way down to the end of the hall and noticed that it was frozen off.

“Dead end,” they say at the same time.

“No, Deadzone.”

The two turn to see the deadly akuma amalgamation pointing its blaster at them.

The two heroes looked at the deadly akuma.

“Any ideas?” Ryuuko questioned.

“Just one.”

Viperion moved his hand to his bracelet.

“Second chance!” Viperion activated his power.

“Now we have some options.” Viperion explained.

The akuma fired a bubble blast at Ryuuko, and she was frozen.

“Second chance!”

Things reset to how they were a few seconds before. Viperion grabbed Ryuuko and pulled her out of the way of the oncoming bubble blast.

“Thanks. For a minute there, I thought that thing had me.”

“It did, but I used my power to stop that. we still have to get out of here.”

“Look out!”

Ryuuko got hit with another bubble as they got up, protecting him from an attack.

“This might take a few attempts…”

_____________________________________________________________

Hawkmoth paced inside his lair.

Mayura was out there, his son was out there… and things were not going the way he planned. Masquerade seems to be building a base for herself and was more concerned with that than getting the miraculous. Adrien is MIA, and Mayura isn’t responding.

“I might need to step in. But there is a lot of risk in this. Far too many variables that I can't account for”

Hawkmoth never liked leaving his lair. It had too many risks to it. After Heroes' Day, he had nearly been exposed. And after that fiasco in Shanghai he didn’t want to risk getting taken out by his own akuma. He had already taken plenty of risks that had blown up in his face. Would this be another one of those times he would need to risk his miraculous?

“But it could also be just what is needed to beat Ladybug and Chat Noir once and for all.”

With an akuma this powerful, the two would likely have to use their special powers multiple times. If he can just locate them and wait for them to do so, he could potentially gain the advantage. Maybe Mayura was on to something with her actions.

Hawkmoth walked to the window.

“There will be a right time. I just need to wait for it.”

He felt an itch in the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure what it was but he could tell one thing, something big was going to go down, and he needed to figure out the right call soon or it could cost him dearly.

_____________________________________________________________

“…And that’s her plan.” Simularé finished. “As for Ladybug and Chat Noir… I am unsure. I lost track of them before I was given a new assignment. But they are in the building and they have not tried to leave.”

Mayura smiled at the information. While it was quite unfortunate that she didn’t have the exact location of the two heroes, it was good to know that they were still in the building, and Lila’s plan was certainly something interesting.

“Indeed, that is quite a clever plan. Ensuring everyone in the school couldn’t escape was pretty smart. You likely had a few escapes anyway, with how clumsy some of the akuma were. You are fortunate that neither one was Ladybug or Chat Noir. Still, though, it isn’t your master’s fault for that. They are basically mindless puppets. But then again, it seems that there might be zero escapes since there seems to be no new reports on the subject of a school takeover.”

Simularé let the peacock villainess muse, analyzing her movements as if trying to figure out any advantage it could handle.

“So, the next step now that all communications are cut is to send out a message that Ladybug and Chat Noir have already been defeated, so as to cause massive despair in order to create even more minions. Sounds a bit derivative, don’t you think?” Mayura mused.

Simularé said nothing. It held its tongue. Deep down, it knew that starting any dispute with this peacock was not wise. Especially given that crazy power she had over their being.

“Still, it is quite a plan. And with all those extra akuma recruited and Ladybug and Chat noir cut off from their guardian, they wouldn’t be able to get any sort of back up. They wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight before all of Paris is under Masquerade’s thumb. I approve of the plan.”

“I am glad you do,” Simularé stated with a forced smile.

Their conversation was cut short when an akuma appeared. Seeing one it did not recognize, the artist akuma prepared to fight. But thankfully the shapeshifting sentimonster stepped in.

“Stand down Evillustrator, this one is not our enemy,” Simularé ordered.

Evillustrator eased and walked over.

“Masquerade has ordered that we start reinforcing the building. She wants this place to be like a fortress,” he parroted.

Mayura looked at the artist.

A fortress? Yes, Simularé mentioned that Masquerade wanted to reinforce the school so that she could ensure Ladybug and ChatNoir would have less chance of escape.

Simularé nodded at the akuma servant.

“Alright, so she wants us to drop the illusion, then?”

“She wants the place to be like a fortress.”

“Go ahead and start,” Simularé motioned. She figured that her master likely didn’t care about the illusion much as she was prepared for stage two. But she would maintain it for a bit.

The akuma moved to the end of the roof and begins working to reinforce the walls

Mayura began moving to the door of the roof to get back down into the school.

“Tell your boss I will be heading to her, and she best be welcoming,” Mayura ordered.

“As you command,” Simularé replied, hiding a large amount of anger and resentment towards the blue bird.

As soon as the blue peacock is out of sight.

Simularé contacts its master.

“Simularé, what is going on? Did Evilustrator reach you?”

“Yes. He is working to make this place a fortress. You want me to maintain the illusion, right?”

“I am about to go public shortly. After I make the announcement. Drop the illusion and make sure this place is a full-on fortress. After that is done, report back to me.

“Yes master. By the way, I had an idea.”

“Oh?”

Simularé smiled sinisterly. She was going to show Peacock why she was sorely mistaken.

“I will report the details to you shortly.”

_____________________________________________________________

“Everything is set up,” Robostus noted.

“Excellent. Let’s do it now.”

The Reflekta camera crew was all set, and Gamer had set it up so the moment they went live, every screen in Paris would show Masquerade.

Masquerade got off her call with Simularé. Something seemed a bit off with her sentimonster but she was intrigued that she had a plan.

“We are live in 5….4…3….2…” the gamer stated before pressing the go live button.

Masquerade smiled.

“Good afternoon, citizens of Paris. You may not know who I am, but don’t worry! You will be very familiar with me very soon. I am Masquerade, and I have decided to make Paris my personal kingdom.”

She paused to let that sink in.

“Now you are likely very alarmed by this declaration and that is normal. It will only be a matter of time before I spread my influence to everyone in Paris.”

She paused to let her words hang in the air before continuing.

“Do not be afraid, I am no monster. I plan on being a fair leader. All I ask is for your undying admiration and absolute loyalty. After that, you are free to live your lives as you normally would. Do not resist and you will have no problems. However, if you do… well, I can’t guarantee your safety.”

Masquerade took a calm breath before finishing.

“This last message goes out to the heroes of Paris, Ladybug and Chat Noir. I know you are here, I know you believe you will stop me, and I know you have allies here. But you will fall to me. Your days of superheroing have come to an end, your miraculous will be taken from you, and I will expose you as the failures you are,” Masquerade finished with venom.

She ended the transmission.

“Now make sure that it is being looped,” she ordered.

“Already is,” Gamer confirmed. “And panic is starting to rise.”

Masquerade smiled. Her plan was already working.

It may have seemed like a simple ego boost, but that speech of hers was a crucial part of her plan. Her charm bracelet could hyper focus on anyone that was akumatized in the past and have their biggest insecurities exposed. But that one by one process took far too long, if the hope of the entire populace of Paris was already demoralized. Then all she needed to do was send out her masks and let them take hold. And all she needed to do was go out there and send the masks.

She could already feel massive amounts of negative emotion from outside of the school. As soon as she headed out of the school, she could easily go and get more akuma soldiers. She could feel her bracelet trembling with all the potential additions.

She was prepared to leave, activating one of the charms to give her black angel wings, but something she remembered caused her to stop.

“Simularé I am moving to phase two of my plan. Get down here.”

It only took a few seconds for the sentimonster to jump from the roof and knock on the window.

One for the Reflekta copies opened the large window to let in what appeared to be Dark Cupid, before it shifted into the phantasm form that was its base.

“Right on cue. So, what is this plan you wanted to suggest?” Masquerade inquired. “And be sure it is not a waste of my time.”

“What if I told you I could get you a Miraculous?”

The sentimonster could feel that Masquerade was very pleased with that idea.

_____________________________________________________________

37 attempts.

It took thirty-seven resets before Viperion figured out what they needed to do.

“Ryuuko, follow my directions exactly,” Viperion instructed. “I know how to win.”

He quickly pulled her towards him to make sure she dodged the first bubble.

The akuma was surprised by the avoidance.

Viperion smiled.

“Your next line is, ‘How did you know I was going to blast at her?'” Viperion stated confidently.

“How did you know I was going to blast at her?” Deadzone parroted in shock before realizing they had said exactly what Viperion had said they would say.

The dragon heroine looked at the determined expression of the snake. She could see experience and certainty in his posture. All her years of fencing taught Kagami the art of reading body language, and the hero in front of her was someone that exuded an aura of confidence. She knew she could trust him.

“Alright, Sassy Snake, I will let you take the reins.” Ryuuko responded.

“Jump to the left in 2 seconds and start running.”

Ryuuko followed the instructions and sure enough avoided yet another bubble attack from Deadzone.

“Head to their left and bounce off the locker at the end.”

Ryuuko dashed past the akuma and jumped as Viperion instructed, perfectly avoiding the barrage of blasts sent her way. Viperion had perfectly mirrored her motion as he explained the next steps.

“Now somersault twice and draw your sword.”

Ryuuko somersaulted as Viperion leaped over her and the dragon turned to draw her sword, now on the other side of the hall.

“Now as soon as it fires a bubble at you, activate your wind! No matter what! I believe in you Ryuuko.”

The last words seemed a bit strange to the fencer. What did he mean by that?

“Will you shut up!?” Deadzone shouted before sending a bubble at Viperion.

“For my final glimpse into the future, you will say, ‘Not so tough now are ya?'”

The bubble contacted Viperion.

“Viperion!” Ryuuko cried out.

The bubble enveloped the snake and floated to the ceiling, taking his frozen form along with it.

“No…” Ryuuko muttered. She looked down in sorrow.

I failed to protect him. He ended up protecting me. He had been backing me up to make sure I wouldn’t do anything reckless.

Ryuuko felt her mind flashback to a few days ago which now seemed almost like it happened a year ago. They had made such a good team back then and now… they get a chance to be heroes again and she couldn’t cover him like he did her.

“Ha, not so tough now are ya?” Deadzone stated with confidence.

Ryuuko’s ears perked up at the statement. That was the line Viperion predicted they would say. That means… Viperion knew this would happen! Which meant his previous statement was to show he planned this. She knew what to do.

Deadzone turned its attention to Ryuuko.

“Don’t worry, you will join him shortly.”

Deadzone fired another bubble right at her, but this time Ryuuko wasn’t moving. She was at the perfect distance to do what she needed to do.

Ryuuko smiled.

“Wind dragon!”

The dragon-themed heroine turned into a cloud and blew the bubble right back at the akuma.

“What!”

The bubble encapsulated the akuma, causing it to freeze in place and then float to the ceiling.

Ryuuko returned to her original form and smiled, seeing how they had finally incapacitated the akuma.

“We did it, Viperion. We took them down. I'm sorry it cost you so much… I won't let you down!”

She raised her blade, upon realizing that her partner was indeed trapped in a bubble.

“Wait a minute…”

Ryuuko walked underneath Viperion’s bubble. She wasn’t entirely sure if this would work, since akuma magic was weird and often unpredictable, but it would make a lot of sense if it did.

“It is a bubble, so this should work right?” Ryuuko questioned as she used the tip of her sword to touch the bubble. She pushed it forward a bit causing the bubble to pop.

Her partner dropped to the floor.

“Ugh… my head.”

“You’re okay!”

Ryuuko hugged her friend, but then realized her sudden action and quickly jumped back up. A bit flustered, she could swear Marinette was rubbing off on her.

“I am glad you are alright, friend. You had me concerned — slightly,” Ryuuko corrected herself.

Viperion was surprised by the quick motions but managed to steady himself.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. But make it quick, we will need to get a move on.”

“Okay… Who am I?”

Ryuuko froze at the question. She could see the confusion on his face. He was completely serious.

“Oh… that is not good at all.”

_____________________________________________________________

Masquerade is on phase two of her plan and Simularé is starting to make waves.

Who will get to the akuma first, Mayura or our heroes.

What will happen to Viperion now that his memory is gone?

Will Queen bee be the right choice?

Reblog and Comment . Your support is invaluable in keeping this fic alive. And I love hearing your thoughts on it

[mithrilhearts]

A request from @i-did-not-mean-to​ centered around our favorite soft dwarf, Ori!! I’ve placed this little one shot in the AU-verse of “Bookbinder//Songwriter”, as we’ve not met him yet in that fic, and I’m excited for the day he does make his appearance!! 

I hope you enjoy this little one shot, my friend! And thank you so much for your love and support ALWAYS.

Peace and quiet was a hard thing to come by within this house. So when those few moments of silence truly hit, Ori knew he had to make the most of it. If it wasn’t Dori’s fussing over the usual–how the house looked, what Nori was up to, if Ori was focusing on his life goals, etc–then it was Nori’s constant shenanigans. Both of Ori’s brothers were loving, just as they cared for one another, but they were like night and day most times, and that could make for a very loud environment.

Especially when they were already loud to begin with!

Ori was typically stuck in the middle or sitting on the sidelines whenever those loud discussions happened, or whenever there was chaos of another sort unfolding, but nine times out of ten he wouldn’t have it any other way. Now, if he could just get Dori to stop smushing his cheeks as if he were five again, that would be lovely!

Silence. It was perfect for concentration. Ori had been working on setting up a proper portfolio with his drawings and design work that often were made into all sorts of different crafts. There were crochet and knitting patterns, but where his talent truly shined was with a pen. A beautiful pristine white stylus that grazed its way across a digital drawing pad with ease, guided by Ori’s steady hand and bright imagination.

Art was Ori’s niche in many forms. Weaving, drawing, and even a little bit of poetry on occasion, but where it truly mattered were the lines. That’s where this portfolio was coming into play. To compile a collection of drawings and new examples that might one day launch him into the big working world of animation and design. For now, Ori would just have to suffer working at the local tailor shop with Dori and using this quiet time to work on one of many side projects.

Or that was the hope until it all shattered with a yell that Ori should have been expecting.

“Little brother!”

The grimace that crawled across Ori’s face was inevitable as his head ducked some, clutching his tablet close to his chest and whining something fierce to himself. Again, he loved his brothers, but his brothers loved him just a little too much to leave him alone.

“Of course I’d find you holed up in your cave,” Nori’s overly cheery voice rang out as the door flew open. An auburn-haired storm was rolling through the house, sporting a wild grin and even wilder ideas, as always.

“Hi Nori,” Ori greeted with a voice that oozed patience, even if he didn’t feel it on most days.

“Working on something important, I wager? Or something perhaps naughty? Is that why you’re clutching your tablet so close to your chest?” One brow arched, Ori blushed, and Nori considered that a mission accomplished.

“No! Nothing like that, why do you always assume–” Ori bit the inside of his cheek, head still ducked and face aflame. “You’re teasing me…and I should know better.” Uncurling from himself and pulling the tablet away from his chest rather gingerly, Ori showed off his current project. A landscape piece with many colorful flowers of different shades and shapes.

“Oh, that is really nice.” A genuine response.

“Thank you. I’m trying to put together my portfolio, any exposure–and before you say it, not indecent exposure–is good.” Setting the tablet down and frantically moving a few papers from his desk before Nori’s ass decided to land on them, the younger brother of the household couldn’t help but huff a bit at the sudden seat occupied on his desk.

“I have some decent exposure work for you if you’re interested! It’s time to break out the ol’ needle and ink again–”

“For the last time, I am not signing your name or your initials on Dwalin’s…backside.”

“No, no, not that, though one day. But, a new fella is easing his way into the little Desolation group. Thorin’s found himself a new man.” Nori’s brows waggled with mischief, a grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye as he gently kicked his legs and looked far too amused than he should have with someone else’s love life.

“I’m not signing his name either,” Ori teased, knowing full well that Thorin was far more reasonable with things like tattoos. Though maybe not piercings from what Ori had heard over the years. “What’s he like?”

“Short, but he’s assertive and feisty beneath that little sweater vest of his. Perfect for ol’ Thorin and a far cry from the string bean he was with before.” Which was good news, indeed, and the sentiment was shared between the two of them with a small nod. “He was asking us to recommend a guy to do some ink, and of course, I have to promote my little brother.”

“I’m not an actual tattoo artist…you got me the tools and told me to have at it…”

“You’re the only one I know with a steady hand and can do great lines. I mean, look at your landscape there! Anyway, I don’t know, maybe you could work out a deal with him? He and his mother own the new bookshop on the corner of Main, perhaps there’d be a place to display some of your pieces? Or promotional work, advertising, whatever it is you want to call it.” 

It didn’t sound like a bad idea. As Ori had said, any exposure was good, and to have people outside of the web see his designs and get a taste for them, put a small fire in his chest as he glanced down towards the landscape he had been sketching. 

Worrying his lower lip with his teeth for a moment, Ori finally then lifted his gaze and seemed to mirror a bit of Nori’s confidence in his expression. “That’s the best idea you’ve had in a long time, so long as he’s not wanting something…crazy complicated that he’ll have to suffer with for the rest of his life, I mean.” Ori was an artistic sort, but even his creative style knew no bounds. You couldn’t exactly erase the lines of a tattoo as you could a digital one.

“I doubt he’ll go for anything too crazy. Doesn’t seem like the type, but, I’m glad you’re on board. I never fail when I say ‘I know a guy’, though in this case, I know the best guy.” Nori reached over to ruffle at Ori’s hair, which earned a small lean away in defiance before the older of the two was on his feet. “Say, once this is all done and over with, now that we have Thorin settled on his happily ever after, I’d say you’re next!”

“What? No, no that’s okay…I can manage that myself…” Ori sputtered a bit, unwilling to look Nori in the eyes so that the more sly figure could catch him within a lie. “I’m far too busy right now to worry about that anyway.” Though Ori would not be mentioning the cute barista he had spotted during one of his many frappe runs. What was her name again…? Mari? A pretty thing with dark hair like the earth, and a smile that shined like the sun.

“Ori?”

“I’m here!”

“Are you sure? It looked like you were on your way to outer space with that thoughtful look on your face. Is there something you’re not telling me?” Something in Nori’s tone was suspicious, but far be it from him to needle any further…for the moment.

“No, I’m fine. Just…thinking about landscapes, which I really need to finish if I’m going to have this portfolio put together sometime this year at this rate…”

“Alright, if you say so, but remember, you can tell me anything that’s on your mind. Even your deepest darkest secret.” Nori was well aware that something was amiss, and his words and voice hinted at such, but considering it was Ori, it likely had to be pretty mild–whatever it was. “And if you need help out of any trouble…I know a guy.”

“As always.”

“Nori! What on earth is this THING in the front yard?” Dori’s voice barked from the floor level below.

“It’s called artwork! Use your eyes!”

“It’s bright and plastic and doesn’t match my peonies! It’s not ARTWORK. Where did you even get it? Are you stealing from the neighbors again?”

“For your information it’s Dwalin’s!” Well, more like Dwalin’s neighbor’s.

Ori sighed. Just another day at home and another quiet moment come and gone–and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Though now that he was thinking about it…that coffee shop was pretty quiet…and had quite the inspirational view.

[drabblecat]

Yandere!Heisenberg x F!Reader Part 2

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: yandere behavior, slight nudity, drugging

Part 1

Slightly longer than i was aiming for but that's ok! My initial thought was more pwp but then I realized I kinda wanted some sort of plot... Anyways, big plans for next chapters! As always I'd love to hear what you think and the ask box is open!

You took a moment to try and calm your nerves. Heisenberg still had your face in his rough hands, and you couldn’t try to run with that chain holding you down. As his thumb ran across your lips anger built inside you. Mother Miranda was supposed to protect everyone in the village, but as soon as shit hit the fan there was no one that came to the rescue. You parted your lips as if starting to speak, his thumb now pressing down on your lower lip. Tilting your head forward ever so slightly, you bit down on the man’s thumb. He pulled back and sat up in shock that someone in your current position would do such a thing.

“Take care of me huh? Like Mother Miranda was supposed to? Yeah, well look how that worked out!” The hand still next to your head quickly gasped onto your neck, lifting you up to meet his eyes.

“That bitch was just using the village. It was a lie she used to make sure we had the right number of bodies to work with and everyone fell for it!” Tightening around your throat you started to gasp for air, hands pulling at Heisenberg’s grip. He let you go, house bouncing against the mattress. “It seems you need some more time to adjust. I’ll be back later and hopefully you’ll realize your place here.” The bed shifted as he stood up. Walking to the door and closing it behind him you heard a loud telltale click of a lock.

You stared up at the ceiling for a moment, not only to catch your breath, but also in attempt to process what exactly was happening. Tears formed in the corner of your eyes, one spilling over your cheek and rolled down to your chin. You let it fall for just a moment, and then gathered yourself. What was done was done. True you saw people that you knew dying in the streets, but you didn’t truly know them. You were just the new girl in town, if they were in your place, they would just be happy to be alive. Besides, Heisenberg was one of the town’s lords, right? It’s possible that this isn’t all that bad, you don’t know anything about him besides owning the old factory. At least he’s not Beneviento or Moreau. The dolls were creepy as hell, and you were never one for going near the waters that looked like they’d eat you if given the chance.

Using the sheet you wiped your eyes, and decided it was best to examine your surroundings further. Getting off the bed, the chain falling to the floor with it, you saw the cuff had a decent amount of length to it. Besides the bed and the heavy door, there were a few other things. There was the chair still at the end of the bed, a small nightstand, a vanity, and two other doors. Walking over to the vanity you were taken back. It had a framed photo of you that you do not remember taking. Especially since it was of you just out of the shower! Hesitantly you tipped it over, not wanting to even think of what that photo implied. Below the vanity were some drawers, opening them you found a hairbrush, and what only could be described as some of the raunchiest lingerie you’ve ever seen. Then came the two doors, one was significantly smaller than the other. Trying the small one first in the back left of the room, no luck. After turning the round door knob a few times you gave it a rest. Next was the larger door, this one opened right away. Nothing too interesting, just an ordinary bathroom. It was a little dirty, but nothing worse than what you’ve seen at certain gas stations.

Starting by opening all the possible cabinets you found they were all empty. Nothing to even try to use to get out. No cleaning chemicals or even medicine in the medicine cabinet. Heisenberg must have thought this through this for some time. The chain finally ran out of length at the toilet, just short of the bath. Seeing as nothing came from this, you returned to the bed to stare at the ceiling and think. Not like there was anything else to do. Who knows how long it took you to explore the room and think your thoughts. Without windows or any sort of clock there was no way to tell. Curling up to one side you snuggled into the blankets. Once again you heard the door click, causing you to bolt upright to face the noise. Heisenberg came through the door, carrying a metal tray holding a plate of food, a fork, a glass with what looked like water, and a small white vase with two wilted yellow flowers.

“Dinner time! Now I know I’m not the best cook, but you should find this to at least be appetizing. After all you must be starving darling.” He sat the tray on the bed and sat back in his chair. The plate was just as he said, didn’t look five stars, but your stomach growled at the mess of food. It looked like some baked beans, accompanied by some thick slices of grilled ham, and a chunk of corn bread. You still didn’t move, despite your hunger.

“Ok ok, you probably think I drugged the food, right? Well, I didn’t. Drugging you would be easier with a dart gun.” He lowered his glasses slightly to look you in the eye. With a sigh he grabbed the fork, picking up an entire slice of the ham, ripping a bite out of it. “See?” he placed the ham with the fork in it back down on the plate, speaking as he chewed. You couldn’t hold out much longer. If now was dinner time, that means you missed an entire day with nothing to eat. Planning any sort of escape or resistance to him couldn’t be done on an empty stomach. Reaching forward you used the fork the cut off a bite sized piece. It was surprisingly well seasoned, and super tender.

“There you go sweetheart! I knew it would just take some time to get used to, I’m not all that bad.” He chuckled and watched you as you ate. Only because he was watching you did you eat just a little faster than you had wanted to. Sure, he was a little off putting, but he seemed happy when you played along with whatever sick fantasy he had conjured up in his head. Once the meal was done, he set the flower on your nightstand and the tray right beside it. He stood up, taking his hat and coat off and throwing it on the chair.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I had a full day today and I am beat. Time to get some shut eye.” He glanced over to the vanity; a small piece of cloth poked out from where you had rummaged around. “I see you had some fun today as well. Your still in that ragged gown, I think you might want to change into something a little more… fresh.” Shit, you thought you’d put everything back to where it was. You mentally curse yourself as he opened the drawers. He was right though; you were still in the stained nightgown from the attack. As much as a fresh outfit was a good idea, you dreaded what his choice might be.

After a few moments of rummaging, he pulled out a gown that looked like it went down to mid-thigh, in a deep crimson color. It would have been a nice gown, if it wasn’t for the fact that the entire section around the breasts were almost see through lace with slits on both sides that went from the bottom and halfway up.

“Absolutely not.” You blurted out, causing him to chuckle.

“Sweetheart I don’t think you have a choice in the matter. Besides you and I both know that if you stay in that grimy thing, it’ll make you more uncomfortable than wearing this. It’s soft to, pure silk.” He tossed it on the bed and gave you a wink. Giving a defeated huff, you picked it up. He was right, it was incredibly soft. Getting off the bed with the garment in hand you headed towards the bathroom.

“Aww, and I thought I was going to see you strip. Maybe some other time…” He looked at you with his shit-eating grin. Your face became flustered, and you slammed the door as fast as you could, not shutting all the way due to the chain. Once inside the bathroom you began to change, making sure he couldn’t see you through the crack in the door. It was only then that you found the slip came with a matching pair of panties. Sighing in defeat and honestly just tired of all the bullshit thrown at you these past days you just put them on. It did give you some comfort, surprisingly feeling clean in this lewd outfit over your much more covering, yet crawling with filth, night gown. Taking a look in the mirror you looked yourself over. At least your tits looked hot in this, a confidence boost is good, right?

Slowly opening the door further, you became almost timid at what you saw. Heisenberg had also begun to strip down to his boxers for the night. He was in the middle of removing his shirt. His muscular back was littered with all sorts of scars. His muscles flexed as he took of the white stained undershirt, the smallest beads of sweat wicked away by the fabric. His tight ass was also a sight to see. Looking over his shoulder, he locked eyes with you, no longer having glasses obscure the direct line of sight.

“Well well, seems we’ve both found ourselves some eye candy huh.” Tossing the last piece of clothing to the chair he approached the door. Opening it and taking your hand he looked down at you, you quickly looked away to avoid feeling more embarrassment. Suddenly he picked up bridal style, your hands immediately reaching for his chest in attempt to hold on. In doing so your hands felt the warm firm handful of his pecks. He chuckled as you quickly folded your hands back into your own chest. Ever so gently he set you back on the bed, a sharp contrast to what had happened earlier.

Settling down next to you, you turned away from him. As you felt the bed dip with his weight, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close. You could feel a slight bulge resting against your ass. You tried to create some sort of distance, but you couldn’t move at all. Resigning to the situation, you tried to settle down, eyes unable to close despite some tiredness. All you could see in the limited range of movement you had was the nightstand, remnants of the meal, and the two flowers wilted but vibrant as they sat in the small vase.