#pain kicking my ass. its inconvenient and annoying.

[toytulini]

me taking my adhd meds everyday is showing up in how i keep rambling in the tags again

[otakugoddes]

The Dating Experiment

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

Friends to Lovers/Experimental Dating AU

Featuring: Satoru Gojo

Warnings: Profanity, Mutual Pining (At a later point in time), Suggestive themes and innuendos, Descriptions of violence, Mentions of toxic relationships.

Type: Comedic+Angst to Fluff

Scenario: The one and only Satoru Gojo proposes that the two of you start dating for experimental purposes, but what happens after you sign the contract?

Female Reader but no pronouns

"You'll probably end up falling for me!"

Part 2

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Did you anticipate what Satoru Gojo would say when he burst into your house unannounced and uninvited and unnecessarily noisy at 7 in the morning? No.

You were just about to drink your coffee normal, until you heard the menace of a man kick your door open like he paid rates for the place, and loudly shout in a sing-song tone, "Oh (Name)! Your favorite person is here!"

You sighed as you turned to the vodka, your saving grace and the reason why you can make it through the day.

As the man, the myth, the menace to society burst into your kitchen you were just busy emptying the last bit of the vodka before raising a hand to stop him from talking. You took a large gulp before smiling, "Good morning to you too, you bastard who never thinks to knock!"

He grinned, hoping to the counter where he threw a folder onto the table, leading you to raise an eyebrow.

"What's this? Another mission you want to dump on me?" You sneered before he shook his head, "Nope! This is a proposal for possibly the greatest idea I've had in my life!"

He stood with his hands on his hips as you opened the folder, "Is this going to inconvenience me? Coz I'm in no mood to deal with those higher up bastards now!"

At least you shared his distaste for the cowardly higher ups, but that didn't mean you'd go out of your way to be an annoying pain in the ass like someone you knew.

He inhaled and exhaled before saying, "So I'm proposing the idea to you to be my experiment partner for a year to test out the theory if I'm ready for commiting to a relationship or not! And you are the first lucky candidate I've chosen...assuming you say yes...you'll have the best time! And you get to have me a partner, an honor not many people will get in this lifetime!"

Your eyes widened as you saw the header of the page. It read: DATING EXPERIMENT CONTRACT! And the subtext was like something a narrator of a game show would say: ITS YOUR LUCKY DAY! YOU GET TO DATE THE ONE AND ONLY SATORU GOJO! SIGN THE CONTRACT AND YOU GET TO HAVE THIS HUNK OF A MAN BE YOUR EXPERIMENTAL PARTNER FOR A YEAR WITH BENEFITS! (Please read contract, in the case of feelings being caught over the while, please break up immediately. T's and C's apply).

"What the hell? Is he being serious right now?!" You thought shocked beyond your wits.

Maybe the vodka was making you hear things.

You blinked once, twice before saying, "Huh? Say again?" You were utterly shocked at the words coming from the tall, white haired man in front of you.

Was he joking? Probably! Then why did he have such a serious face while smiling as if he just said something smart.

"You heard me! Date me!" He said again and you looked at the man who was proposing his 'great idea' to you, you only knew him for a good amount of years to tell when he was serious and when he was joking.

But this was insane.

"So you're asking me to be your experimental partner for a year to test out if you can commit to dating? And after a year we're going to separate is that correct?" You asked wearily.

He leaned onto the counter with his chin in his propped up palm, "Yeap! The whole point is to see if I can deal with all the things being in a relationship entails, if I manage to do that...I'll try commiting to a partner after this!"

You didn't want to acknowledge the little questions running through your head like: What if this didnt work out? Or Would the the two of you still be friends? Or What would you get out of this? Or What if someone fell for the other? Where would things go from then?

You knew if it ended up working and the contract ended, nothing would change between you two. You didn't feel for him that way.

Surely if he chose you to be the candidate, he must have some reason like the fact that you took absolutely none of his bullshit. Or maybe something deeper like, he felt comfortable enough with you and had no other options. Or, he simply had enough confidence in the fact that you didn't like him like that that nothing would progress between you two romantically and your lack of feelings in that sense for him made you a perfect experimental partner.

"Just so we're clear...I've just drank a vodka filled cup of coffee so if I agree I shouldn't sign this right now?" You say with a deadpan expression.

He perked up, pulling his blindfold off and smiling like he won the lottery, not that he needed to. The bastard was rich, lucky son of a bitch.

"So you'll do it?" He asked cheekily.

"Do you have any other options but me?"

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and cockily smirked, "Of course I do! There are tons of people who'd die to have an opportunity like this...you're just the first one I asked!"

You smiled, so it was like that?

"And the fact that I'm not one of those people...made you choose me right? Because I'm a close friend who can tell you no when it matters right?" You took another sip of your coffee.

The look on his face at your question was one you were lucky to have caught as you side-eyed him.

"Please! You should be honored that your the first choice!" He teased.

"I'm probably the only neutral choice you have, since I know Shoko wouldn't care and Utahime would kick your ass!" You smirked.

You both laughed at the truthful statement before you opened the contract, it had about five pages of terms and conditions before the page where you sign.

"Just make sure that once you sign you wont regret it! You're almost signing your life over to me!" He said in that annoying sing song tone.

You gave him a look, "Please...the devil backed out of a deal with me...I'm the one you should be afraid of!"

He chuckled at your devil-may-care attitude...finding it amusing.

After he gave you time to mull over it, and you sobered up, you presented the contract to him at the end of the day after he zipped over to your house.

"Alright Satoru! Let's start this experiment!" You say, a smile on your face like an indomitable force of nature.

Not realizing what you were getting into, neither apparently did Satoru.

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

[miyuhpapayuh]

Where You Belong.

It'd been two weeks since their breakup— if you can even classify it, as one.

Their relationship wasn't always rocky. Y'lan did everything to make sure that she was happy and taken care of and she did the same for him, but Cici began to feel neglected as time went on.

His job started to become his main focus and petty arguments became an everyday occurrence, until she got tired and moved out of his apartment, and into one of her own.

As of late, she's been enjoying being single, cumming and going as she pleases.

"So... when do I get the pleasure of seeing you, again?" Standing at the bottom of the steps, Cici and her new favorite man candy stand centimeters away from each other's lips, underneath the orange hued sun.

"Hm, you might be luckier than you think." The smitten man peers down at her, placing wet kisses on her lips.

"Mm., yo pretty ass better call me."

"Maybe I will....," she steps away from him and towards the door, her hand placed on the handle. "Maybe I won't."

"It's like that?" He asks with a raised brow.

"Always. Goodnight.," she sing-songs, unlocking the door and disappearing behind it.

Kicking her furry slides off, she sighs as the fluffy rug aides to her aching feet. Her phone starts ringing as she makes her way down the hall.

"Hello?," she answers, not even caring to look at the caller ID.

"So, you movin' on and ain't think to tell me?," Y'lan's irritated voice sounds through, causing her to roll her eyes.

"We gotta do this, tonight? I just had a great day and you're ruining it."

"Well, excuse me for being a fucking inconvenience.—"

"Yes., excuse you. You know, you got a lot of fucking nerve, calling me just to fuss at me about some shit that don't even fucking concern you.—"

"Since when does this not concern me?”

"Since your job became your whole fucking like, Y'lan!, are you kidding me?!" The huff that sounds on his end, further pisses her off.

"You just stopped caring. You were always working and always tired and I tried my hardest to be present, while you just sat there. You weren't the man that I feel in love with, anymore."

"Cici, I've been trying to apologize for the longest time, now. I know I wasn't there, like I should've been."

"Well, it's too late for that."

"Why?"

"Cause, I've been doin' this song and dance with you for too fucking long!," she leans against the wall by her bedroom. "I'm sure you out there fucking 'who knows what', so stop worrying about what I'm doing."

She hangs up and heads into her room, face planting onto the sheets and instantly knocking out.

Somewhere around midnight, Cici’s awaken by incessant banging on her front door.

"Ugh!", as she saunters down the hall, the banging grows louder, instantly annoying her. "Okay... either shut the fuck up or wait for me to open the door."

"Open it up, then." Rolling her eyes, she unlocks it and snatches it open, watching him walk in like he owns the place. Closing and locking the door back behind herself, she turns and leans against it, crossing her arms over her chest, her cleavage damn near spilling over.

Y'lan stands a few feet away from her, giving her a hard glare. "Can I help you?" She asks.

"You wanna help me understand why you hung up on me? You know I hate that shit."

"You're such a fucking baby. I didn't give enough of a shit to hear you explain whatever it is that made you act like I was no longer your girlfriend. I moved on and you should too, quit—"

"What?!," he cuts her off. She holds up her pointer finger in his direction.

"—quit!, calling me and harassing me about what and who I'm doing." His brow raises.

"Oh, so that's why you been hangin' up on me and shit. You got a new man in them walls and forgot, huh?" He strides over to her, now just a few inches from her face.

"I'm not a woman that waits. You know that. I've got needs and you weren't fulfilling them. Where's your roster of hoes at?"

"You really think I'm just out here fucking? That's all I'm about?" He questions, a crease in his left brow.

"That's how you used to be, who's to say that it still isn't?"

"Me!," he yells, pointing to his chest. "What's wrong with you?"

"You're what's wrong with me. I hate you.," she snarls, pushing him back. He grips her wrist, beaming back, this time closer to her face.

"You need that attitude fixed."

"Fix it, then."

————

A thick, sticky air shrouds the two bodies inside their bedroom. Pants, moans and grunts compete against the incessant slapping of their skin.

"Fuuuckk.... you feel so damn good, baby," she moans, taking her bottom lip between her teeth, again.

"Wet ass pussy.... I should fuckin' kill you." He grunts, before wrapping his large hand around her neck, thrusting deeper into her.

"Ahn! I'm sorry!"

"Shut the fuck up." Her hand reaches out for his thigh, as he begins to hit her spot.

"Oh fuck! You're gonna make me cum!"

"Cum on this dick." Her body jerks twice, while her pouty and swollen lips allow her foul praises, through.

"Come're." Pulling her up by her hair, his thrusts pick up speed, leaving her mouth to hang ajar.

"He gave it to you like this?"

"Nooooo.... fuck!" She quietly answers, making him move his hand back around her neck, tightly.

"I can't hear you, baby.... say it again." He grunts, dipping his hips into hers.

"No, baby!"

"He make you cum like I do?"

"No— unh!" Her toes curl, feeling him slow down some to dig into her.

"Then, why you keep fuckin' playin' with me, baby?" Moving his hand up to grab her chin, he speeds back up, the clapping of their skin refills the room.

"I'm n-not playiiiiinnng!— unh!, unh!, unh!,..." her fingers grip onto the foot board for dear life.

"I'm sorry!," she cries, feeling another orgasm brewing.

"You sorry, huh?!"

"Yes!"

"You sorry for givin' Daddy's pussy away?" Her eyes roll back as every thrust begins to hit her spot.

"Fuck— yesssss,"

"For tellin' Daddy how much you hate him?" He emphasizes his pained question with a rough stroke, sending a scream through her.

"I didn't mean it, Daddy! Fuck, I love this dick!" Her head hangs forward.

"Ohh fuuccck.... aah! I love this dick, babyyy— I love you!"

"I love yo bratty ass, too. Throw that shit back on Daddy." She bounces back on his lap, feeling him throb against her.

"Feels so good, Daddy!" One hand grips his forearm and the other searches for something to latch onto.

"You boutta cum again, baby?" He taunts in her ear, slowly dragging his girth in and out of her tightening cove.

"Ffff—" her eyes roll back as her peak begins to rear its head.

"Talk to me, babygirl."

"Yes! I'm gonna cum!" Her body hunches forward as her essence drips down her leg. She reaches back for his thigh, pulling him closer.

"Don't st-stop," her top half goes limp on the bed, giving him more leverage to demolish her without a fight.

"Fuck!, I'm gonna cum, again!" Her legs begin to tremble as he third orgasm rushes through, just as quick, making way for another. She presses a hand over her clit, hissing at the overstimulation.

"–—shhhiiiiiit!" Her quaking frame almost hits the ground as she cums again. His big hands hold her up, continuing to dig into her.

"Okay, baby!..... I can't take it— fuck!, ooh!, ooh!, ooh!...." replaying like a broken record, she squeezes against him. He moans in response, stilling for a second.

"You can't handle it, huh?"

"You're killing me, baby... I need a break—" pulling her up from the bed, he presses her against the wall and wraps his hand around the front of her throat.

"You don't deserve a fuckin' break.," the venom in his speech makes her thighs clench around him. "You gon' take all this dick, you understand me?"

"Yes, Daddy,." The lust in her eyes doubles for him. She grabs the back of his head and smashes their lips together, moaning as he grips her fat ass with both hands.

Reaching between them with her free hand, she guides the head of his dick back between her slit, her mouth dropping open as he slides back inside.

"All that shit,..." he reminds her, digging as deep as possible.

"Oh shit...,—it feels so good, baby!" She wraps her arms around his neck and hides her face.

"Shit... you test my patience... all the fucking time.," he growls in her ear, causing a smile to break out on her lips.

"Only, because you let me." Laying her head back on the wall, she stares at him, biting down on her lip at the way his muscles flex.

"I got you that spoiled, huh?" He asks. She nods, closing her eyes as the pleasure begins to slowly build.

"Yes, baby." Pulling her away from the wall, he lays her back on the bed, beginning to move against her, like a serpent. Her hands latch onto his back.

"Oh!," her lips part, her moans swallowed in his many kisses. "Fuck, baby!"

"You feel me, girl?" He grunts against her lips.

"Yes... I feel youuuu!"

"You want this nut, babygirl?"

"Yesss, gimme that nut....," lifting her legs up, she grips the back of her thighs, giving him the leverage he needs.

"Unh,.... such a fucking brat." His hands fall above hers, gripping her flesh as he drives into her, madly.

"Fuck meeee!," she moans, digging her nails into his thighs.

His deep moans multiply as he gets closer, the muscles is his back working overtime, flexing underneath the streetlights outside her window.

"Shit!, I'ma bust all in this shit, you hear me?"

"Yes baby!," she screeches, clenching around him.

"Ah shit... uh! Fuck.... mmmm!," his pounding comes to an abrupt stop as his orgasm rushes through him. His head lolls back at the feeling.

@soufcakmistress @504queen @ghostfacekill-monger @hearteyes-for-killmonger @uzumaki-rebellion @l-auteuse @blowmymbackout @blktinkerbell @supersizemeplz @chaneajoyyy

@captainsaveasmut @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @daddy-killmonger @killmongerdispussy @browngirldominion @issahyland @honeyandpeaches @nxxstybrat @write-fromthe-start @emjayewrites

[hongism]

as you wish - jaehyun smut

pairing: jaehyun x female reader

genre: ceo!jaehyun, assistant!reader, smut, absolute filth guys

word count: 3544

warnings: daddy kink, semi-public smut, choking, thigh riding, facefucking, deepthroating, throat bulging, oral sex: male receiving, oral: female receiving, sir kink, size kink, unprotecc sex, cum eating, cum swallowing, creampie, fingering, filth, absolute filth, fucking filth y'all, corruption kink, overuse of baby girl and princess, possessive!jaehyun, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, dom!jaehyun, sub!reader, teasing, breast play, nipple play, pussy slapping, overstimulation, praise, basically both have a pain kink, reader cries bc jaehyun's big dick is that good, this is not a proper boss assistant relationship like y'all no, but do i care? fuck that no I don't, yes this is kick it jaehyun, no don't come for me jfc this warning list is LONG

summary: maybe you and your boss don't have the most professional relationship, but he's so good at fucking you that you don't think twice about it.

a/n: ...don't ask. this is gratuitous smut and absolute filth and I have zero shame, so don't ask pls this is for @parksfilter​ @franklytae​ and myself. also thank you dearest fram for this sexy ass banner :3

…

...

“Sir? Your 4 o’clock appointment came by early.” You step into the dimly lit office to find your boss sitting behind his desk, as usual, eyes glued to his computer even as you speak. “Mr. Jung,” you speak a bit louder in hopes of catching his attention. Sure enough the man glances up at you, dark eyes finding yours as he looks at you over the rim of his glasses.

“Yes, Miss L/N?”

“Your 4 o’clock.”

“It’s 3:36, Miss L/N. Not 4 o’clock. You’re early. As is my client.”

“Well sir, Mr. Kim asked me to remind you that you were rather late to the last meeting.” You grin at your boss, teeth shining through the smile. His lips quirk into a small smile. “So, Jaehyun, who’s fault was that?”

“Yours actually, Y/N. Someone was taking her sweet time… taking care of business. Go tell Mr. Kim that I will see him at 4 o’clock and no sooner.” Jaehyun pushes his chair back from the desk, eyes still not leaving yours, and steps around the side of the wood. His fingers run along the surface. He barely traces it, a delicate touch that makes you think of less than holy things. “I meant now, Miss L/N. I only have 21 minutes to conduct certain business with you.”

“Of course, Mr. Jung. I’ll be back shortly.” You turn on your heel, spinning to face the door, and step out with haste. Jaehyun’s eyes follow you as you go, you can feel the heat of his gaze on your backside. The door clicks shut behind you though and blocks the feel of his eyes for the time being. “Mr. Kim!” You greet with a wide grin. Said man’s eyes flit up to yours as you smile down at the place where he awaits you.

“Is Jaehyun ready for me?”

“No, actually. He asked that we wait until 4 o’clock precisely. He has a bit of paperwork that needs to be concluded before your meeting if that’s alright?”

“I thought you were supposed to mention his previous–”

“I did, but as you know, I answer to my boss’s orders only. I’ll come back to bring you in at 4 o’clock, Mr. Kim.”

“Ah, I see, Miss. As you wish.” The man sitting before you nods his head once at you.

“Actually sir, it’s as Mr. Jung wishes, but I’ll pass on the message.”

Your heels click against the hard floor as you walk away from the businessman. A smile still plays at your lips because you know what’s waiting for you behind your boss’ door. You don’t bother knocking before stepping back into his office. One hand trails over the dark wood, slipping over the lock and twisting it to the right, then you turn to face Jaehyun.

“Miss L/N, what did my client say?” He asks from his place in front of his desk. The suit fits him too well, and you see that now that he’s standing before you in full glory like this.

“As you wish, Mr. Jung.” You walk towards the man, hand on your collar, and pop the top three buttons of your blouse open.

“Hmm, I quite like the sound of that, Miss L/N.” He reaches out to snatch you by the waist. “Wearing a red number under a white shirt is a bit risky, don’t you think?”

“Do you think so? Maybe you’ll have to punish me for it then… sir.” Jaehyun’s hand trails up from your waist, delicate touch brushing the valley between your breasts. Goosebumps rise across your skin as he touches you. He hums at the sight, lips quirking into a small smirk at the same time, then glances up to your face before speaking again.

“Something tells me you’d like to be punished though, princess.” You roll your eyes at the comment. Stopping your gaze on the wall over to your right, you check the clock.

“19 minutes, Jaehyun.”

“Careful with that mouth, princess, or I’ll just go ahead and cancel the meeting altogether.” Jaehyun leans forward to press his warm lips against the column of your neck.

“You wouldn’t,” you whisper before letting your head fall back under Jaehyun’s ministrations. He chuckles against your skin. It sends ripples of pleasure through you, and you are forced to bite back the moan threatening to climb out of your mouth.

“As you wish,” he mutters back before leaning away from you. Twisting, you try to pull away from the man, but he locks you in place with his thighs, squeezing you between them before you can step back. He turns to his phone and taps away at some buttons while keeping one hand firmly on your waist. “Mr. Kim! Yes, yes, it’s Jaehyun. I hate to do this so last minute, but we had some paperwork complications come up just now. Would we be able to push the meeting to 5 o’clock? Yes? Wonderful. Again, I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” The call ends a moment later, and Jaehyun returns to smirking at you.

“I cannot believe you,” you hiss out. Your boss merely laughs. One hand slips between your legs to push them apart. The tight material of your skirt stops him from continuing the motion. You have to smile at the almost annoyed gleam that crosses Jaehyun’s eyes as he realizes the obstruction; however, it doesn’t last long because he pushes the material up over your thighs and ass for better access. You sink down onto Jaehyun’s thick muscled thigh before you know it.

“I have a lot of paperwork to attend to since my assistant got snippy.” Jaehyun’s teeth drag across his lower lip. He rocks his thigh upward. Pressure hits your clit, bringing a sharp wave of pleasure over you, and you grab him by the shoulders to stabilize yourself. “Fuck yourself against my thigh, baby girl. I wanna see my good little girl get off on Daddy’s thigh.”

“F-Fuck–” you gasp as Jaehyun rocks against you, not giving you a chance to speak or breathe before he yanks you closer by the collar.

“That’s an order, baby girl.”

“Yes–yes sir.” You slowly drag your body forward, letting the feel of his muscled leg against your core wash over you. Jaehyun’s fingers work at the rest of the buttons on your blouse. He works them open deftly before reaching around your back to pop the clasp of your bra. You do him the favor of yanking both your blouse and bra off. They’re thrown somewhere behind you, but you don’t have time to glance back and check because Jaehyun’s lips are latching around one of your nipples without warning. You instinctively buck against him. “Fu-uck.” A small whine leaves your lips as Jaehyun’s tongue swirls around your sensitive bud. He gives a sharp suck to it. You watch the skin rise up under his lips, teeth sinking into your lower lip. His other hand finds its way to your other breast and massaging it with his large hand. He pulls off with a cocky grin to his lips.

“You sound so innocent and needy. No matter how many times I corrupt you, you still act all innocent.” Another whine slips out, Jaehyun’s long fingers toying with your nipples as he speaks. “Listen to yourself. I want to ruin you. Turn you into my own little slut.” Jaehyun pushes up, bringing you with him, and you yet again have to brace yourself on his shoulders.

“You haven’t ruined me yet, sir.” Lifting a hand to Jaehyun’s face, you trace his sharp jawline with your index finger. The light touch coaxes goosebumps out of his skin, ones that rise to meet your finger as you move along his features. “But I would quite like it if you did.” Your words come out like a purr. They have a visceral effect on Jaehyun, his whole body lurching forward and pushing your back to the edge of his desk roughly. The sensation sends ripples of pain through your body only for a moment before it passes and leaves you quivering in excitement underneath him.

“Turn around. Now.”

You don’t wait to be told twice and spin as quickly as you’re able to given Jaehyun’s close proximity to you. A hand comes down against your ass. The skin ripples under Jaehyun’s touch. Even with your underwear, you’re certain that his touch will leave a nice handprint across your skin. Besides the underwear doesn’t last long. Jaehyun yanks it down with one hand, the other finds your bare back and pushes you until your face presses against his desk. Something is digging into your stomach – probably his stapler or something of the like – and you try your best to wiggle it out of the way. Jaehyun must think you’re attempting to misbehave though because his hand comes down against your ass again. The sting is sharper this time now that you aren’t wearing any underwear, but you revel in it nonetheless.

“Da-addy, something’s hurting my side,” you call out to the man behind you.

“Oh? I should’ve cleaned the desk off beforehand. My apologies, baby girl.” The hand on your back snakes it’s way up to your head, latching onto your hair and yanking your body back. A wanton moan escapes at the sharp tug. Jaehyun ignores your whining in favor of sweeping his belongings to the side, leaving an open space for you to fall back against when he releases your hair. “I’ll make it up to you, princess, don’t worry.”

“I never do,” you giggle back. You can see his form out the corner of your eye. He must know that you can as well because he’s making a show out of taking his jacket off and rolling his sleeves up his forearms. You have to bite your lip to keep a moan from slipping out. Then, Jaehyun dips out of sight.

Cold fingers brush your slick folds, toying with the wetness pooled at your core. You gasp and lurch further forward on his desk, blindly grasping for some sort of support as he pushes two digits in without warning. The stretch is sudden and a bit uncomfortable at first, but soon he’s working you open like it’s common practice. The pads of his fingers toy around your sweet spot, teasing and prodding but never fully touching it, and you buck your hips back against his fingers in attempts to get him to hit that spot. It almost works, but Jaehyun crooks his fingers inside you at the same time. The suddenness of the action catches you off-guard. It also brings you to your first orgasm, walls clenching around his thick fingers, pulsing and tightening on him as you ride out your orgasm.

“Naughty naughty, little girl.” His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth. “Roll over, face up.” Your mind is a bit muddled and fuzzy already. Jaehyun smacks the flat of his hand against your wet pussy, and it brings a jolt through you, an encouragement to get moving and roll over faster. Apparently, it’s still not fast enough for Jaehyun because he yanks you forward by the legs until your cunt is right in front of his lips. You nearly clench your thighs around his head just at the sight of him between your legs like that, but you resist the temptation in favor of throwing your head back in pleasure. He drags the flat of his tongue against your sopping folds. It’s slow at first, almost teasing in the way he laps at your heat, but he seems to realize that the two of you are still on a time crunch. Next thing you know, his tongue is prodding at your entrance. He builds up a quick rhythm, no longer wasting time in fucking his tongue in and out of you, and you reach down to grab hold of his hair. Fingers intertwine with his dark locks, and he groans against your pussy. The vibrations go straight to your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you. It’s enough to send another orgasm through your body, and it’s like little jolts of electricity shoot through you, making you see stars.

“O-Oh fu-fuck Jaehyun, fuck fuck. Fuck, Jaehyun, ju-ust like that, please. Yes, yes, yes,” you ramble, already halfway to losing yourself in the pleasure despite barely getting started. Jaehyun chuckles against you, sucking at your sensitive clit as he pulls off you.

“It seems that someone forgot what my title is.” A hand slaps your cunt. The sound that resonates is a wet and disgusting one, one that has you writhing under Jaehyun’s touch and has him slapping your pussy again when you fail to respond. “Get it right, slut. You have two options. Say them both.”

“S-Sir!” You cry out when his palm hits your clit again. “Sir an-and Daddy.”

“Good girl.” Jaehyun coos and rewards you with a small kiss pressed to your clit. “Up. I wanna fuck your pretty little mouth.” You prop yourself up on your elbows, chest heaving as you look up at Jaehyun, who’s getting to his feet himself. The sight distracts you a moment. His hair is ruffled and unkempt thanks to your touch, tie off-kilter and loose, lips and chin glistening with your juices, and it’s such a breathtaking sight that you lose your train of thought. “I said up.” Jaehyun pulls you back to reality by tugging your body forward, fingers clenched around your hips and pulling you off the desk. You nearly fall face first into his crotch, nose actually bumping the bulge in his trousers. He’s nearly bursting out of his pants. You grin at the thought of the large present hiding behind the material and resituate yourself so that you’re more comfortable on your knees before him.

“Yes sir,” you murmur as your fingers work his buttons and zipper apart. One sharp tug to the band of his pants and underwear is enough to spring his cock loose. He’s quite blessed, to be frank – thick and long, such that you have to use two hands to cover his whole length.

“Don’t just stare at me, baby girl.‌ Get to work.” You do as told, moistening your lips, then take the head of his cock into your mouth. He hisses at the contact. Your eyes snap up to his face as he makes the sound and gauge his reaction. He looks pleased already, tongue toying with the corner of his mouth while watching you bop your head up and down along his member. You hum around him. “F-Fuck, baby girl, let me fuck your mouth. Let me fuck it, shit.” His hand works its way into your hair and tightens around it. He lets you pull off to catch your breath once, a thin line of saliva connecting your lips and his shaft, then he pushes it back into your mouth. It fills you up before you’re even halfway down his member.‌ He keeps pushing and pushing though, and you thank your lucky stars for the lack of a gag reflex because you feel his cock press its way into your throat.

Jaehyun hisses above you. You can’t look up at him, too focused on his member, but he keeps groaning and hissing so much that you have to glance up at his expression. His eyes aren’t locked on your mouth or his cock, rather he’s looking past both things. The hand in your hair shifts, a light touch tracing down your skin until it reaches your throat.

“Fuck, you’re so tiny that my big cock bulges in your little throat. That’s the hottest shit I’ve ever seen, baby girl. Look at you.” Jaehyun’s hand slips back up to your hair and latches on. He braces himself on it, thrusting slowly in and out of your mouth. He presses into your throat with each thrust. The corners of your eyes are moist with tears, and they’ll begin to fall before he cums, but you try to focus on breathing around his fat cock rather than the tears. “You take my dick so well, princess. You’re doing so well, fu-uck. Such a good little slut for Daddy, aren’t you?” You can neither nod nor hum in approval around him, his cock filling you up too much to do either. Jaehyun doesn’t seem to expect an answer though. He keeps fucking your mouth, pace speeding up more and more as time goes on, and breathing is becoming more and more of a struggle. Still, he’s close and hot cum spills down your throat a moment later, nearly choking you from the sheer quantity of it and the lack of air in your lungs. Bringing a hand up to his hip, you drum your fingers against his bare skin three times, a small signal that you need him to pause for you. He pulls out immediately. “Are you alright, love?” He asks as you gasp for breath. The hand in your hair reaches around to cup your chin, lifting your face to his. Jaehyun stoops down to be eye to eye with you. “Color?”

“G-Green,” you gasp out. A small smile spreads across your lips as you see the relief in Jaehyun’s eyes. He must still be concerned though because your tears are already falling. “Fuck me, sir. Fuck me please?”

“Absolutely, baby girl. How do you want me?”

“Fuck me from behind. Bend me over your desk?” You plead as Jaehyun drags his fingers over your tear stricken cheeks.

“Ask nicely first, baby girl.”

“Daddy please bend me over your desk and fu-uck me like the little slut I am,” you beg, writhing under him.

“There we go, slut.” Jaehyun pulls you up by the arms and drags you over to his desk. You whine as he roughly pushes you up against it, letting him manhandle you into the position he wants you in, and there’s a sick sort of pleasure in letting him move you around like you’re his toy. Your face meets the cold wood of his desk again, cheek pressed to the surface so that you can look back and see what Jaehyun is doing behind you. His member is already hardening again, thanks to some help from his messy jerks, and within a few moments, he’s pressing the head against your wet hole.

He starts with a slow push. Despite his preparations, your cunt is still extremely tight around him. He takes extra care in thrusting slowly into you until he’s buried all the way in you. You whine at the sensation of being completely filled up by Jaehyun, coupled with your sensitive state from already orgasming twice. He goes slow at first; shallow and dragged out thrusts until you both get used to the sensation. Then, his speed picks up, thick member dragging across your slick velvety walls. Moans tumble from your lips without ceasing. You can’t bother being quiet as the sensation of Jaehyun’s cock in your tight pussy is too good for you to think straight. He groans as your walls tighten around him, clenching in rhythm with his quick thrusts.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby girl. No mat–no matter how many times I fuck you, you’re always so tight. Is my cock the only one you take? Are you my dirty little slut?”

“Yes, yes, Daddy, yes. I am sir, I’m yours. Only yours. Fuuuck I’m all yours.” Jaehyun’s thrusts speed up as you speak those words.

“That’s right, baby girl. All mine.” He’s already starting to falter with the rhythm of his thrusts, and with the way his cock is curving against your g spot, you know that you’re going to hit another high any second now. “Cum for me, baby girl. Cum around Daddy’s cock, yea?” You release a whine. Jaehyun gives a particularly harsh thrust, and it’s enough to send you over the brink and into another wave of orgasming. Your sight all but goes white from the sensation, stars in the corners of your vision. Jaehyun follows close behind.‌ Your walls tightening and pulsating around his member brings him to another orgasm himself. Hot seed pushes into you, filling you up, and you moan at the warmth in you. Jaehyun pants above you. Sweat on his brow, white shirt clinging to his body and showing the tan skin underneath, he cages you in with his arms.

“Damn,” you exhale as the orgasm passes.

“Damn is right.” Jaehyun pulls his softening member out of you. The absence of his cock immediately makes you feel cold, especially as you feel his cum sliding out of your pussy as well. “You did so well, baby girl. So so well.”

“Thank you, sir,” you mumble, too spent to say anything else.

“Now I hate to break it to you, but there’s a 5 o’clock appointment I need you to go fetch for me.”

“Oh fuck off!”‌ You call out, huffing as Jaehyun’s hands run over the curve of your ass. He chuckles to himself. “You can go get him yourself and explain why you’re late.”

“That’s for my assistant to do.”

“Your assistant seems to do a lot of things for you,” you counter.

“She’s quite good at her job, I must say. Now, let’s get you cleaned up and dressed properly again?”

“As you wish, Mr. Jung.”

...

a/n: ...i have no words tbh buuuuut i hope you guys do!!! please let me know what you think and share your feedback with me!

all these works are copyright 2020 calypso, jungtaeyoongles, all rights reserved.

[hoodedwing]

Inhisar

Summary: After an hour of waiting, Dick goes to hunt for Tiger who didn’t make an appearance. Tiger isn’t just fighting a migraine but something else he refuses to meet head-on with.

Characters: Tiger King of Kandahar, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd (mentions), Damian Wayne (mentions), Bruce Wayne - as Batman (mentions)

Warnings: Mentions of a knife but no blood, gore or anything. 

Additional notes: 80% of the fics I see revolving Dick and Tiger are usually Tiger looking after Dick but because I’m a sucker for hurt characters who’ve been through hell and refuse to open his/her/their mouth, I swapped the roles and did something hurt/comf ish. I’m also setting up my ao3 where I’ll transfer my fics there too. Enjoy!

Word Count: 1,801words

-

inhisar - reliance 

***

Dick waited at the rooftops for close to an hour already. He couldn’t shake the buzz from his body as he did a few backflips to shake the feeling off. He was supposed to meet Tiger here close to thirty minutes ago but he hadn’t shown up. It was strange of the usually punctual man who promised some vital information on Dick’s current case. The extremely resourceful man never ceased to amaze Dick although he came off rather cold sometimes. 

No matter, he thinks as he shoots his grapple towards the neighboring skyscraper and swings with ease. Metal after metal building appeared in the backdrop of the neon Wayne Industries signage, a testament to Gotham’s cry of need. Dick snorts at the idea before heading over to Tiger’s small place in Gotham. His usual residence wasn’t here but Dick insisted he take one of his safehouses (to which Tiger begrudgingly agreed to). It was one of the smaller ones Tiger argued about since one man doesn't need too much space, idiot.  

He nimbly sweeps down to the window and sees it’s dimly-lit, almost dark inside. Frowning at the fact that it was ajar, he pushes it and rolls in silently. He flashes out his escrima sticks, lightning blue and making the crackling sound he’s accustomed too and sneaked to the obvious occupant on the couch. He’s about to swing when he realizes-

-its Tiger.

Asleep?

Dick has to hold back laughter. His previous anxiety was ill-seated as he cheekily leans against the armrest of the sofa.

“Excuuuuse meee?”

He starts, in a fake and airy voice that’s loud but not enough to somehow wake Tiger up who just changes his position and curls deeper into the leather couch, pulling himself up in a small ball.

Dick’s eyes are up at him like a wolfhound. He knows that Tiger is indeed a very light sleeper and he should be awake right now and calling him an idiot and realize he’s the bigger idiot for missing their meeting. He lazily curls himself in a painful-looking position and waits on him.

Sensing the pressure change, Tiger suddenly opens one exhausted green eye and looks at a smiling Dick in civilian clothing. Blinking and clearing his sleep-ridden eyelids, he tosses a cushion at Dick who caught it easily.

“Idiot-”

“Don’t flatter yourself, you didn’t make to our meeting so as a friend-”

“We aren’t friends”

“-okay, okay whatever but hey I gotta make sure you didn’t die out there.”

“I’m not incapable, Agent-”

“-I’m in civvies! You can’t just Agent 37 me.”

Dick retorts, smiling widely. Tiger mutters something under his breath before swinging himself up but his vision spins before he falls back on the couch, angrily staring down at the floor. His head is pulsating again wildly. He only hears the roar of gushing blood in his ears.

Dick is still talking in the background, probably a lecture about something Tiger couldn’t care much about right now. He just needed to make sure he’s not about to kneel over and possibly embarrass himself.

“WIll you shut up for a minute?!”

He hisses, head in his hands, pressed tightly as he tries to filter out the remainder of the supposed light present. Dick is immediately silent before he asks, undisguised concern in his voice.

“Are you okay?”

“Sit down,”

Tiger tests his limbs, and slowly gets up before half-stumbling to the small attached kitchen. Dick had worry etched all over his face as he tossed his jacket onto the vacated couch before switching on the television. He knew no matter how much he insisted, Tiger never told him what was wrong.

He chose to keep to himself, quiet and only spoke when needed. Dick was the one who added life, chatter and still kicked ass alongside the man. Don’t get him wrong, Tiger was a brilliant fighter but he was too quiet, more than usual. Dick was usually good at reading people, seeing the truth in their eyes and figuring out what’s wrong before they can.

Dick cannot say the same for Tiger. He remembered when he met him for the first time. Tiger was unreadable, almost neutral and it threw him off balance. The few things he figured out was his upbringing in war-torn Afghanistan, his love for really hot qehwa and Medjool dates as well as his preference for darker colors.  Belatedly, that was it. The rest of it was shut behind cold, emerald eyes almost similar to Damian’s ones. Tiger was a man with calculation, precision and silence, that much Dick knew. 

Speaking of silence, it had been ten minutes since Tiger left the couch for the kitchen. Dick decides to go there anyway, at worst a pan might hit his head. He enters the sparsely furnished kitchen and the first thing he registers is a man leaning against the counter, lost in space as he absentmindedly swung a paring knife and his trigger finger constantly twitching. Tiger hadn’t worn his shemagh so Dick can see the ebony hair and slight curls . 

“Yes?”

Dick is now slightly afraid of the paring knife in Tiger’s hand so he makes sure he’s a safe zone away from him. Still absentmindedly flicking the knife, Tiger looks at Dick questioningly and with deadly ease, throws the knife at a poor apple sitting on the countertop.

“You didn’t answer me back there, Tig..”

“Hm?”

Hands in his pocket, Dick tries to start a conversation but Tiger pinching his nose bridge stops him from opening his mouth. He observes his silent friend lean a little more against the cold exterior of the marble countertop as the water boiled with lazy wisps of steam trailing near the surface. 

Pity washes over Dick who lowers the blinds at the kitchen window and sees some tension from Tiger dissipating. 

The water is whistling, bubbles frantically escaping and Dick steps forward to switch it off. Tiger looks up and Dick can see him clearly. Exhaustion, frustration and irritation all rolled up in one impressive eyebrow raise.

“Go back, I’ll finish this. I’m sure you trust me enough to fuck this up.”

He doesn’t bother with a jibe, just heads back to the couch and loses all track of time. Face buried in the leathery couch, everything was tilted off its axis. He vaguely registers throwing a warm jacket left there off the couch before sinking into the cold surface.  

A strong smell of qehwa enters the room as Dick balances both cups at a ridiculous angle. Setting them down, he feels Dick sit beside him on the carpet, cross-legged and rocking back and forth.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

“Minor inconveniences”

Is all he says as he buries his face deeper into the couch, blocking all light because it was making his head worse and then Dick had to come here and be an annoying prick. He woke up that morning with a dull pressure from his neck and decided to sleep it off since he had no urgent things to do, blessedly. However, he swore he did set an alarm two hours in advance before their meeting-

Oh no.

“I can give it now and you can be headed on your way.”

Dick stops rocking and narrows his eyes at the figure on the couch, wondering what Tiger meant before a slow grin starts appearing on his face.

“You can’t even walk straight to the kitchen so I’m staying. It’s like a sleepover and don't feel bad about missing our small reunion. It’s okay to feel like absolute shit sometimes.”

He helpfully suggests as he passes a cup of the hot beverage to the man whose face is still planted on the couch. Tiger points one finger at the small coffee table and shakes his head, the action making everything worse. He doesn’t understand why his stupid little... headache isn’t leaving him but he doesn’t care anymore. 

Dick had been watching his actions the entire time, evaluated if his chances of dying were high and then gently but softly asked Tiger.

“Migraine? Seems pretty bad. I’ll be back.”

He gets up to hunt for some Imitrex and grabs a cold compress before turning off the lights completely on the way back to the lofty living room where Tiger had already fallen asleep in a very still position. 

He has no heart to wake him up because he knows he gets only so much sleep. Gently tapping his shoulder and shaking out a tablet, he probes him again.

“Sit up, I got you some meds. It should help.”

A small groan comes from the couch and then a reluctant turnover as he faces Dick blankly, eyes squinted and Dick instantly feels terrible for waking him up.

“Tell me about one of your inane adventures.”

Tiger asks quietly from where he’s still laying with Dick hovering over him, pill in hand. Confusion momentarily graces his face before he launches into some story about a mission with Damian.

Dick is animatedly whispering about the entire thing as his unconscious hand reaches out to ruffle Tiger’s thick hair. The heavenly head scratches surprisingly comforted Tiger who leans ever so slightly to the touch. It felt nice to be treated like this for once.

Don't get sentimental.

He faintly ignores that voice and reaches out to his primary need of relief and comfort. Dick had gone on to his second story about Jason and how he loved reading. He joked about how he’d spit lines from plays and shoot with equal jest. There was a wistfulness in his tone and a small part of Tiger hated himself so much for being so soft and vulnerable and letting Dick comfort him but it felt normal and everything else considered. He’s unnerved by this unfamiliar experience and he has to get it to stop before he’s caving in and dependent.

He can’t do that.

It’s incredibly stupid and dangerous in his line of work.

What if one day he’s gone?

What would he do?

“Are you feeling any better?”

Dick asks kindly, softly smiling at Tiger who’s trying to suppress all the new emotions Dick stirred up and it somehow warmed him a little but he doesn’t show it.

“Thank..you?”

He fumbles slightly, awkward and the usual firm line on his face was replaced with one slightly curved at the ends. Dick is grinning wildly.

“Did I make the great King smile?!”

Tiger is trying to hide his face before Dick lets out an ecstatic yell.

“You’re smiling! I didn’t know your facial muscles allowed for that action!”

Another cushion was thrown at Dick who’s caught it again before sticking his tongue out at Tiger.

“Agent 37, still childish as ever.”

Tiger doesn’t mind, he really didn’t mind, even if his qehwa turned cold.

[dolly-decadatia]

Intention of the day-

This is so hard to pick out on days without a pressing need. Also, let’s take a minute to focus on the fact that I don’t have a pressing need. I’ve been in constant crisis mode for 3 decades. I was starting to calm down at the end of 2020 and then my health tanked and I went back into crisis mode. I had 1 single therapy appt recently. It was mostly a waste of time but the one relevant theory she had was that because I’d been in such unsafe situations my whole life, the possible reason I got sick recently was because my body finally “felt safe” to do so. Who knows? But yeah, being in crisis mode I always needed something so it would have been easier to set intentions then. I’m sitting here drawing a blank.

Fuck it. I’m going to set an intention based on my reading yesterday. I’m going to be kind to myself.

Incense: cedar (for confidence) however, I only have one brazier. I’ve got mandarin currant wax melting in the living room and I’m about to light frankincense on the actual order in a little while before I do my daily divination. Les Vampires like frankincense.

Candle: pink would be best, especially with sigil carved into the side and anointed with rose oil. (I don’t have any of that.)

Crystals: I have rhodochrosite and rose quartz (nurturing) and tigers eye (self esteem)

Perfume: rose oil

Flowers: roses and lavender

Color: pink

Food: almonds and chocolate are both good for self esteem and by coincidence they were both in my breakfast.

Affirmations: I love the person I becoming

Daily Divination :

Will I ever be beautiful

Underneath: transgression

Flaws, contradictions, mistakes

It’s all about self forgiveness. “Live better, do better, but let the self punishment go. ... Go now and make amends, then give thanks for self forgiveness.”

“Make amends. Take stock, asses, and redirect, and come back into harmony with the voice of your soul.”

This doesn’t appear to answer my question. Maybe all 3 will make sense together, or Les Vampires think this is what I should be worried about instead of my looks.

Heart: creator (inverted)

“...now you call them scientists and they merge cells, transform bodies, change peoples shapes, repair great injury, change destiny. sometimes, it is wonderful, and sometimes, it is most destructive.”

Is this about my weigh loss and plastic surgery obsession?

“Each day with your thoughts, actions, and decisions you create anew the form your natural energies and soul will take... you can recreate yourself”

This part seems like an answer. I’m recreating myself and I need to make sure I nurture this new being with nutritious thoughts and tend it with actions that will help them grow beautiful.

“You are the vessel through which new life and ideas are born... When we create a new one, they struggle and are often confused and in pain.”

Cursed: (because it was inverted) terrifying paragraph that kicked me straight in the tokophobia. May I learn today’s lesson quickly so I never have to read this terrifying bit again. I believe they’re saying raising this new version of me will require sacrifice and inconvenience and be frustrating and joyless at times but they used a triggering cis breeder metaphor to convey their point that I really could have lived without. Point taken. I will undertake this labor. I had already often thought that my transition was very much me suffering through an unknown amount of years and then “delivering” this beautiful peaceful man and happily dying. That man I was supposed to be was still born. Top surgery botched, looks decimated, sick from hrt which is massively unfair seeing as its safe for 99% of other trans people. He’s dead. I must stop mourning him and put all my loving attention on this next baby I’m nurturing. They are nonbinary and long for peace and beauty and community. How I nurture them now colors who they will be when they’re “born.”

Promise: primal

Connecting deep within, sacred dance, instinct

This is very gendered. Second very gendered card of the reading. I’m unsure if I want to continue to work with Les Vampires. We will see how tomorrow’s reading goes.

Anyway it talks about dancing. The thing that I love to do and am grieving not being able to do right now because of pain and illness. It calls dancing “feminine” which is absolutely ridiculous. This cis obsession with gendering inanimate objects and actions is juvenile and stupid. Makes it hard to suspend disbelief that I’m working with immortal wise vampires. Maybe the author put her own spin on what they told her. Still annoying to read.

My action to work with this card to to dance.

And that’s my future.

Dance.

On a question about “will I be beautiful.”

So how do these go together? I do carry a lot of guilt in my past that I beat myself up for. Is this why I’m not currently attractive? All the self abuse. It’s all taken a physical and mental toll? I don’t take care of myself so I’m physically ugly and I’m too busy ruminating on all my failings that my energy is also ugly? The card does make a bit more sense in context with the other 2.

So in the present, I need to let all that self loathing stay in the past and not feed that poison to my “baby”.

So what’s the future? I do what I need to do to be a responsible Sire and then fledgling me is healthy enough to dance and therefore the answer is “yes I will be beautiful”

Or

I leave the self hatred behind, nurture my fledgling and then fledgling me’s “beauty” is the beauty of dancing meaning “no, you won’t achieve physical beauty, but you will achieve a beautiful art form to offer the world.”

I feel uncomfortable. Today more than yesterday I feel the human author behind the guide deck. This is why I’m an atheist. Once holes appear I rip them bigger and look into them. This was why I couldn’t be Wiccan. I had the same problem pretending to talk to a Goddess as I did the Abrahamic God. I was much happier when I was a pop culture pagan because I could just do the LaVey school of “this is theatre because humans need ritual” with characters I was more attached to than deities. If they are all made up anyway, why do pick my faves? I may end up back in Pop Culture Paganism at the end of this journey. It’s too early to tell.

As an ex PCP I can say, ok maybe this is just a book but my belief makes Les Vampires real. Of course I’m spotting an undercurrent of bullshit. It runs through everything.

But still I’m shaken. I had found so much comfort in the concept of loving vampire guides yesterday and now doubt is setting in and my good mood is tanking. It’s going to take a lot of work to resuspend disbelief and try and feel that love again.

In the meantime I accept my task of forgiving myself and nurturing my fledgling .

Later on a thought occurred to me. Maybe all the gross prego talk was because Les Vampires are trying to dumb down the beautiful Sire/ fledgling relationship into terms a human would understand. The bulk of the target audience won’t understand them the way I do. Now I feel bad for having sulky, bratty energy in front of them. I’m going to make amends by forgiving myself like my Underneath card said and nurturing my fledgling like my Heart card said.

[banduckoot]

I don't know if its been done yet but can we have a KongStripe headcannon? I love these.

Now that’s a ship I’ve never considered! Let’s see what I can come up with…

Pinstripe and Koala Kong have, naturally, known each other since the start of Cortex’s world domination efforts, even before they were mutated.

Part of Cortex’s efforts to create a mutant army included familiarizing his test subjects with one another so they wouldn’t tear each other apart as mutants. Kong, as a normal koala, tended to prefer Pinstripe’s company; he recognized him as a fellow marsupial, and tended to see him as less threatening than the other animals. Pinstripe was unsure at first about this strange koala’s interest in him, but after realizing he was harmless, he let him hang around.

Even as a normal Potoroo, Pinstripe showed early signs of being very cunning and sneaky. He’d often steal food when Cortex was unaware, and, since Kong was nice enough to him, he’d try to share it. Unfortunately, Kong only ate eucalyptus leaves at the time, and when Pinstripe managed to figure that out, he started stealing that for Kong instead.

As the two animals grew closer, Cortex would often find them snuggling up against each other. Cortex thought this adorable behavior was disgusting, and tried separating the two of them as much as possible. Unfortunately, this grew to annoy Kong immensely, and the normally peaceful koala began lashing out at Cortex with acts of violence… and he proved to be surprisingly strong for something on a eucalyptus diet!

Eventually, the time came for the two animals to be mutated. Kong’s mutation was heavily focused on muscle power, but not a lot on brain power. Pinstripe’s mutation was focused primarily on intelligence, but not enough to be a genius. Cortex didn’t want him to be TOO smart, after all. Just enough to be the mob boss Cortex wanted him to be. Kong and Pinstripe barely recognized each other post-mutation, but when it finally clicked for them, they couldn’t stop complimenting each other on the other looked. Again, Cortex thought it was gross.

Then came time for the Cortex Vortex. Kong was subjected to Sylvester Stallone films spliced with subliminal messages about Cortex. When he was done, he spoke with a similar voice to Stallone, and was as competent a fighter as Rocky Balboa. Meanwhile, Pinstripe was subjected to gangster movies: Goodfellas, Scarface, The Godfather, etc. He gained his Italian-New Yorker accent and a love for tommyguns. When he and Kong saw each other after, despite their changed personalities and voices, they managed to bond over their mutual love of violence and serving Cortex. Plus, they still had some memories from before… even if they were a little fuzzy from the brainwashing.

Once Pinstripe got his own set of potoroo goons to command, he invited Kong to be his personal muscle, not just for obvious reasons, but because he wanted an excuse to be close to him. Kong accepted, though this was an unofficial position more than anything else. If Cortex needed Kong for something, even when Pinstripe needed him, he had to answer to Cortex first. Despite the inconvenience, the two managed to get a lot of time together… at least until Crash Bandicoot was put into the Vortex. Then trouble started.

Cortex sent out Ripper Roo, Koala Kong, and Pinstripe out to capture Crash and prevent him from collecting Gems or rescuing Tawna. When Pinstripe found out that Crash had soundly trounced Kong, he was furious. He was more than happy to try and spray the bandicoot with bullets. Unfortunately, he failed and got his butt kicked, too.

When Cortex Castle burned in the end, the two reunited for a brief time. They mutually agreed that serving Cortex had been a pain in the ass. They almost confessed their feelings for each other at that point… but out of fear of rejection, and out of wonder about the outside world, they decided to go their separate ways for the time being. Kong went to Hollywood for speech therapy and a movie deal with Universal Studios, and Pinstripe moved to Chicago to start a city-wide sanitation business.

Despite being far apart, the two mutants kept contact with each other often through letters (e-mail wasn’t popular yet). Kong would regale Pinstripe with tales about playing monsters or science experiments gone wrong in movies, while Pinstripe would talk about his plans to use his business to fund his campaign to become governor. Their letters grew increasingly flirtatious over time, until finally, Kong admitted his feelings towards Pinstripe. He didn’t write anything too fancy. Just a simple, “I love you” at the end of his letter.

Pinstripe, upon receiving this confession, decided not to write back, but to fly to Hollywood and visit Kong directly. He surprised him on the set of a film he was working on and spoke with him privately. Did Kong seriously think he could just get away with confessing at a distance? Hell no! Pinstripe then surprised him with a kiss and told him he’d come all that way to tell him TO HIS FACE that he felt the same way.

The two mutants spent an entire romantic week together before Pinstripe was forced to fly back to Chicago. During that time, they ate at fancy restaurants, mingled with celebrities that Kong had met, and… well, you can use your imagination for what else happened between them. For a while after that, the two carried on a long-distance relationship, one occasionally visiting the other.

Imagine their surprise when this arrangement was interrupted by Cortex summoning the two of them back to Cortex Island. Both of them initially refused, but Cortex did not take “no” for an answer. Cortex manipulated his way into ending Kong’s contract with Universal, as well as bankrupting Pinstripe’s business. The mad doctor cruelly reminded both mutants that he owned them, and they had nowhere to go except back to him. So, sadly, Pinstripe and Kong returned to their island home to serve their master. At least they’d be living together again…

Of course, just to make sure Cortex had some regrets about what he did, Pinstripe and Kong made sure to be as open about their relationship as possible. If Cortex thought they were disgusting before, they were even more so now: kissing, holding hands, making out in the hallways… it made Cortex furious, and so he didn’t include them in his plans for a long time after that, hence why we don’t see them too often anymore.

… Wow, I didn’t expect to write this much! I thought my brain well would be dry, but instead it ran over like crazy! I hope you don’t mind… sorry if I went overboard…!

[crazypie-art]

You're short, get over it.

Summary: team lucifer have a very enlightening conversation about the group short stack ant, who is pissed off about it.

Warnings: ant calls people names

Pairings: team lucifer (its poly)

Note's: so like, I remembered I can write fanfic about my ocs and that's what I'm doing because I literally would die for these lovey dovey dorks

---------------------------------

"Hey ant! I fixed your dumb phone thingy!" Caleb called, walking into the room and looking around.

"Where's short stack?" Caleb asked glancing up, getting shrugs from everyone else in the room. "No clue dudeareno, he and jordy went off somewhere a few hours ago. Some mission in the red zone or somethin." Sonia responded as she shrugged her shoulders, looking at Caleb.

"What's with the nickname? Short stack? You know he'd kick your ass if he herd you calling him that right?" Taylor questioned glancing at Caleb, who proceeded to roll his eyes.

"Ohhhhhhh noooooo, im gonna get my ass handed to me by a guy who's four foot seven! The horror!" Caleb said as sarcastically as he could muster, earning a snicker and eyerolls from everyone else in the room.

"Hey you're only 5'5, and the dude Is quite literally the devil himself, not to mention Jordan would kick your ass for him." Ian said looking at Caleb, earning a snort from the other.

"Oh yeah, cause the demon golden retriever is gonna kick my ass. Jordan may be 7'4, but he's a fucking push over, not that there's anything wrong with that, but I could hold out a spider and he would probably cry. Literally the only one of you dysfunctional messes that could kick my ass is the homicidal maniac-" "hey fuck you!" "-and the furry. Also Violet. Violet could definitely pummel me. She's scary." Caleb said, getting a glare from Taylor.

"What kind of name is homicidal maniac you fucking asshole?" Taylor hissed annoyed, Caleb shrugged "you tried to destroy the world, also You're kind of a prick, thems the facts." "Rot in hell." "WE LIVE IN HELL??”

"Okay boys, you're gonna need to stop before somebody gets hurt. I don't want to clean up whatever mess you make by pulling out your weapons in the house." Mutsuki interrupted, walking over to them, giving them a scolding head shake.

"Oh hey your back!" Sonia exclaimed happily, getting up to give Mutsuki a hug.

"Yes, we've been back for the past... seven, Or so minutes." Mutsuki says with an innocent head tilt and smile.

"We?" Caleb asked, glancing at her. "Yes, we. I came back with Felicity, Ant, and Jordan." She said, giving a less happy smile at Caleb. "O-oh, so-" "he herd everything, and is incredibly mad. Oh, how you manage to do it is a mystery. He's fuming. Only you seem to garner such an incredibly inconvenient talent." She said, her tone incredibly passive aggressive.

"Greeeeaaaat."

"Caleb you're a fucking asshole, I hope you realize that." Ant said walking into the room, glaring at him.

"Oh, Piss OFF. You're short, Ant! You're teeny tiny! You're small! You literally smack into Jordan's crotch when you walk into him! You're fucking short, get over it! I'm gonna keep calling you short stack and if you want me to stop you're gonna have ta kill me!" Caleb snapped frustrated.

"I probably could do that, ooooooor, I could stop talking to you and pretend you don't exist until I get an apology. Which seems far more effective in the long run!" Ant said turning around to leave.

"Oh yeah, smartass? And what about your phone? You don't want it back or something?" Caleb said pulling it out of his pocket and waving it next to his head.

Ant turned his head to look at Caleb and sighed frustrated, starting to walk over to him.

"Oh? What's this? You gonna admit I'm right short sta-" Caleb was cut off by ant kicking his right kneecap, making him fall to his knees with a hiss of pain.

Ant rolled his eyes taking his phone, giving caleb a hug and kissing his forehead. "Apology accepted you asshole. Rot in hell." Ant said humming as he walked away.

"WE LIVE IN HELL YOU FUCKIN FOOL!" Caleb shouted frustrated as he got back up, starting to chase Ant. "And get back here! I'm not finished with you!" Caleb called, getting a laugh.

"Yeah sure, if you can catch me slowpoke!"

[fiction-queen-blog]

Uchiha Revolution

A/N:”Cleaning up my Drive and I found this” Genre: Thriller, alternative Naruto-verse, romance Main Pairing:  Itachi x Sasuke Additional information: Separated since birth, not aware of being relatives Also read: “Chapter 1″  “chapter 2″

Chapter 3

“I know you got just back from your mission, but do it for your best friend, which is me,” Shisui pleaded as he had his hands together in a praying way, “come on!”

“No, I am not going. If I go there I will get constantly challenged and asked about strategies and techniques.”

“But so do I! At least when you stand next to me people don’t bother that much.”

“Why would I do you a favor?”  Itachi tied his hair in its usual ponytail before  putting his necklace on.

“Because I do favors for you all the time. It is called friendship, it works like this!”

“Fine, but only because it would make my father happy too when I show up for once.” Itachi turned himself to Shisui, “You owe me one again.”  

“Big time!” Shisui smiled and looked at the clock on the wall, “We better get going, we are an hour late.”

“I don’t think dad would like that his second in command is so late.”

“His second in command is trying to get his son’s ass there.”  Shisui walked towards the door and quickly put his sandals. Itachi did too as he walked next to his friends to the trainings field owned by the Uchihas.

“Look at them all sweating in this heat...I can’t believe I am one of them,” Shisui sighed. Suddenly a rather angry voice called out his name, causing Shisui to straighten his back and have this serious look on his face.

“How can my second in command be so sloppy. You are late!” Fugaku’s voice caused some people to look up.

“It took me a while to find Itachi-kun,” Shisui pushed the blame to his friend.

“That is true, I was-”

“He was in the toilet,” Shisui whispered, “some bad food.”

“Are you alright Itachi?” Fugaku rested his hand on his hip. Itachi glared at his friend before nodding.

“Everything is fine,father.”

“I too found yesterday's chicken a little undercooked.” Fugaku shook his head. Itachi scratched his cheek as he turned his head slightly away from his dad. He couldn’t believe his father still fell for Shisui’s excuses. His eyes widened slightly as they were met with Sasuke’s. The younger Uchiha looked away, not even attempting to communicate with Itachi. No wave, no smile, not even a little nod. Maybe the young boy was just daydreaming, and didn’t even see the well-known Uchiha stand there.

“It is good that both of you made it. I think a lot of them would like some feedback, especially from you, son.”

“Yeah, yeah..” Itachi woke up from his thoughts.

“Come, let’s throw some shurikens and show them how it is done.” Shisui said as he seemed slightly excited to lecture some.

“Yeah, you go ahead. I will catch up to you,”  Itachi said as he pushed his friend ahead while his hand grabbed a kunai from Shisui’s weapon bag. He threw the kunai towards the female member of Hiraku’s team. She immediately looked up and dodged the kunai with her blade, causing it to drop a meter away from her position.

“I-Itachi!” Her cheeks turned  a pink colour  before  she bowed her head.

“Yue, right?” Itachi asked as he approached the woman. He grabbed the kunai from the ground. “Next time you block a kunai, it is wiser to hold your blade a little more like-” He walked behind her and put her sword in a certain angle,”this. The kunai will be shot back at the location it came from without having to put too much strength into it.”  Itachi  took a step back.  

“Ah I see,”  her voice was soft, “Is this in case of explosive tags on the kunais?” She asked. Itachi made a justifying sound.

“Thank you so much for your teachings.” The woman’s eyes seemed to shape into two little hearts while other female clan members gave her a small glare. Itachi turned himself around to look at Sasuke, who was sitting in front of a tree, holding a bottle of water.  The young Uchiha looked up, meeting Itachi’s eyes. A small silence emerged.

“Hey,”  Itachi said as he approached the younger one.

“Hey,”  Sasuke said, blocking the sun with his left hand so he could look at Itachi.

“So, you are resting?”

“I can’t believe you noticed that with your powerful eyes,” Sasuke said teasingly.

“Itachi! Are you coming or what!” Shisui shouted from the other side of the field. Itachi looked up at his friend before looking back at Sasuke.

“What are you doing here anyway? This isn’t mandatory for you, is it?”  Sasuke asked.

“A favor for a friend,” Itachi said. Sasuke looked at Shisui before nodding understandingly.

“You are a good friend,” Sasuke stated as he took a sip of water before putting it down next to him, “Well, I should continue.”

“Me too,”  Itachi naturally offered a hand which Sasuke took with a cocky smile. The older Uchiha looked at Sasuke’s hand in his. It felt warm, it was heating his natural cold hands up. The tingling feeling came back, followed by another weird feeling in his chest. As if it was getting lighter.  

“Thanks.” Sasuke pulled his hand back. Itachi gave him a small nod before heading towards Shisui.

“What took you so long?” Shisui muttered as he looked at Hiraku’s squad.

“I figured to share some of my knowledge with  Yue”

“Really, it seemed you were more busy talking to Sasuke.” Shisui raised an eyebrow as he looked at his friend who had his eyes fixated on Hiraku’s team.

“Was I?  I guess I got too engaged with the conversation.”

Training continued for another hour before Fugaku made a couple of announcements in advance. He wanted to end with the last part of the training that included a friendly fight between two teams.  

Fugaku looked around the teams before making his decision.

“Team Hiraku and Team Senbon. You both are up in 2 minutes.”  Fugaku said as the people created space to not get in the way of the two groups.

Itachi sat on a tree branch next to Shisui.

“Wanna bet?” Shisui asked as he folded his arms.

“I don’t gamble,” Itachi said, seeing Hiraku said something to his teammates. Something about how they better win and not embarrass him.  Itachi narrowed his eyes slightly. After all the complaining coming from Hiraku, he did wonder how ‘useless’ his team really was. Itachi leaned his chin on his knee.

“It almost seems like you want to see this. Weren’t you the one always bored?” Shisui asked.

“I wonder...I have never seen Hiraku’s team in action.”

“Correction, you have never seen Sasuke in action.”

It felt useless to lie to Shisui at this moment, he nodded.

“He is complaining about his team all the time.I want to see for myself. Besides…” Itachi bit his thumb, “Sasuke doesn’t have the Sharingan..”  

“Hmph...Hiraku’s team has a disadvantage with, having the only side branch member in the entire force in their team.”

“But father has still accepted him in the force. Even without Sharingan. I wonder why.”

Fugaku stood on the side as both teams seemed ready.

“You may start...Now!” He said, giving a sigh, causing the Sharingan users to automatically activate their Sharingan.

It seemed to go fast, with the advantage on Senbon’s  team. In a couple of minutes all Sharingan users of Hiraku’s team were on the ground, leaving Sasuke who managed to dodge an attack and ended up in the back while the four men’s team of Senbon stood on the other side of the field.  Sasuke shook his head, looking at his unconscious captain.

“Fucker…” He muttered. Of course they were getting their ass beaten if they used the oldest strategy in the book. He did try to convince his captain, but he didn’t seem to want to listen to a side brancher.

“We left the easy one for last.”

“You can stop if you want, we don’t have to hurt you.”

“Don’t think about your pride. Do what is the wises,”  Senbon said as he let his guard down.  Sasuke shook his head as he started making hand seals.

“Your interference in my decision making is inconvenience.” Sasuke finished the last seals. Lighting appeared around his fist that turned into blue chakra that then disappeared into nothing.  “Of course, I don’t mind that you are voicing your mind. Remember, you can quit anytime..”

Two of Senbon’s the teammates ran straight towards Sasuke. One jumped in the air as the other made hand seals, blowing fire. Sasuke slit to the side and ran towards the man blowing fire. The man moved his face, to change the direction of his flames. Sasuke slit under the ground, sliding between the man’s leg as he quickly got back on his feet. He hit the man three times in random spots, causing the man’s chakra to fade and his body to hit the ground.

“I..Can’t move!” The man shouted. The one who jumped ran towards Sasuke, appeared behind him,forcing the Uchiha to create a distance,or else the sharp blade would have cut him. The man swung his blade, causing Sasuke to make a summersault and slide his leg over the ground. The man jumped,giving Sasuke the opportunity the strike from below. He hit the man four times in the stomach, before grabbing his blade. The man fell, unable to move his body. It was a good thing Sasuke grabbed the sword, or else the man would have been a wannabe kabab. Sasuke stuck the blade in the soil as he looked at the two remaining ones. Both ran towards him from different directions. Sasuke made a handstand backwards as he moved his foot over the dust, causing it to get straight into both Shinobis eyes. He moved fast, kicking one in the side of his face. The man fell on the ground, moaning in pain because of his neck.

The captain of the team rubbed the sand away from his eyes.

“You..” he seemed annoyed.

Senbon made a few hand seals and blew fire. Sasuke duck, his back hit the ground as he had to roll away from the fist that hit the ground so hard, the hand got stuck in the soil.

The earth suddenly moved up, creating dry sand below the young Uchiha.

Sasuke jumped away and stood on top of the sword, but the sword moved due the soft soil, causing the young Uchiha to fall on his back, but quickly get up again.There was a little awkward look in his eyes, considering he just fell. He quickly moved his head as weapons were thrown at him.  Sasuke dodged while he made a few hand seals, pushing his palm on the ground causing a stream of lightning to go to Senbon.

He jumped away throwing a kunai with an explosion tag on it. Sasuke slipped his finger in the round part, spun it around his finger and threw it back. The man eye’s widened as quickly threw another Kunai so misdirect the first one.

“I underestimated you.” He panted, “You deserve acknowledgement, but you are still just a side brancher.” The man stood up as an evil smirk appeared on his face, he suddenly pulled on two see through threads to capture the side brancher.  Sasuke grabbed a kunai and threw it - what people assumed was- a random direction, right at the same time the man pulled the threads. It caused four lines to break and the trap was now set around the man himself.

“WHAT?!” He exclaimed as Sasuke spun another kunai around his finger, lighting appeared around it as he threw it at one of the threats, breaking it and giving it some kind of shock which caused Senbon to get electrocuted. The man fell on the ground, getting on his knees as his hands were pulling the grass.

“No..NO! HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE!”He exclaimed, he looked up, seeing the young Uchiha walk towards him, extending left arm, holding it with his right as lightning appeared around it.

“Don’t let your pride get in the way.” Sasuke said as he stood in front of kneeling man, with a deadly jutsu literally in his hand. Senbon looked up, before lowering his head again, not saying a word. Sasuke narrowed his eyes as the chidori disappeared.

“Whatever,” Sasuke turned himself around to Fugaku, “I take it as my team’s win?” He asked. Fugaku remained quiet for a moment before nodding.

“Is it permanent, what you have done to my teammates?” Senbon asked, looking at the paralyzed teammates.

“No, but it takes an hour for them to recover.”

Senbon seemed relieved.

“Of course I could fasten the process. If you ask this side brancher’s help.” Sasuke said as he looked at Senbon from the corner of his eye. The man remained silence, causing Sasuke to shake his head.

“Yue?” Sasuke shook the woman a little before she reacted.

“Did we lose?” She asked raising her head, getting up on her knees to look around her.

“Hiraku-san is unconscious?”  She didn’t seem surprised.

“Good thing I didn’t bet, I would have lost big time,” Shisui looked at Itachi whose eyes were fixated on Sasuke.

“Funny, how he fell off the blade,” Itachi commented.

“I wouldn’t have expected his movements to be so unpredictable.Moving the muscles to indicate he was going to kick, but then suddenly moving his fist. He had me almost fooled twice,” Shisui said.

“He doesn’t seem particularly strong..Physically. “

“Neither do you, but you beat my ass too.”Shisui laughed at his own comment.

“I have never seen such technique.”

“Hitting the muscles and weakening them-”

“No...He hits the muscles, and then implants small bits of lightning. Messing up the nerve system. It is impressive.”  

“For you to be amazed by something, this is a shock.”

“But I wonder how he didn’t fall victim for the genjutsus. It is as if he never looks at anybody's eyes,” Itachi folded his arms.

“Can’t blame him.” Shisui put his hands behind his neck.

“I wish to see it up close one time.”

“I can arrange that,” Shisui had this dumb smirk on his face. He grabbed Itachi’s arm, raising it in the air, “ITACHI WISHES TO FIGHT AGAINST THE VICTOR!”

“Shisui!” Itachi hissed, pulling his arm back.

“You have been sitting on your ass the entire day. Come on, get some action.” Shisui jumped off the tree. Itachi sighed and did so too.  

Hiraku got up, supporting the other male rookie.

“You wish to fight against me?”

“I think you should sit this one out. You don’t look too good,” Shisui had an awkward look.The man literally made a big fool out of himself, “Sasuke, are you up for a quick spar?” Shisui asked. Itachi didn’t protested.

“Fine, I am not the one to back down on such a gentle offer,” Sasuke said as he fastened the bandage around his arm.

“Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you. He just want to see things up close,” Shisui said, causing Itachi to sigh.

“He isn’t as good of a friend as you are?” Sasuke asked.

“I am not the one to judge,”  Itachi said, extracting two fingers. Sasuke looked at them before locking them with his own.

“Traditional,” The young Uchiha said as he moves his bangs away from his eyes.

His eyes widened as he quickly ducked to dodge Itachi’s fist. Sasuke quickly moved to attack back, but Itachi blocked his arm with his own. Sasuke moved his other arm,but that got blocked too. That continued for a short while, until both their backs were pressed against one another. Sasuke moved  his elbow to hit Itachi side, but the older Uchiha turned and kicked Sasuke in the side, causing Sasuke to fall on the right. Sasuke managed to make a handstand and get back on his feet.

“How could you guess..” Sasuke narrowed his eyes.

“Logic,” Itachi said as he jumped away, throwing shurikens as he made them more powerful by adding fire. Sasuke dodged them. One slit right next to him, cutting the binders of the tank top. Sasuke narrowed his eyes looking at Itachi.

“It is like you are not even trying,” Sasuke said as he grabbed his left hand with his right as lightning appeared around his left hand.

“Twice already?” Itachi asked as he covered his face with one arm as Sasuke aimed his attack on the ground, causing the earth to collapse and boulders to fly around and dust to cover the sight. The older Uchiha suddenly felt a thumb and index finger pressed against his shoulder followed by the weight that equaled a boy Sasuke’s height and posture. Itachi quickly turned around as he kicked the person behind him.

Sasuke’s back hit a tree, causing him to yelp in pain. The dust disappeared, making Itachi visible again. The Uchiha was looking at his arm that had no feeling whatsoever in it.

“Impressive…” He said as he looked at Sasuke who got up, forming a few hand seals before moving his fingers apart from each other. Lighting appeared between them. He aimed his finger to itachi before releasing the lightning. Itachi slit under the rays if lightning through Sasuke’s legs as he made this salto backwards  over the boy, using his hand the same way he felt Sasuke’s do with his shoulder. He jumped back, to look if it worked

The young Uchiha’s eyes widened as he looked at his right arm before looking at Itachi.

“Judging from your expression, I would say I did well copying your moves.”

Sasuke looked at his arm before looking back at Itachi with almost hateful eyes.

“If you think you can master a technique I dedicated my whole life on mastering, you are dead wrong.” The boy seemed moody as he hit his arm in several places, making him able to move again.

“I didn’t mean to strike a nerve,” Itachi said. “No pun intended”

The fight continued for a little longer,just until Itachi had cornered the younger one. Sasuke hissed glaring at the Itachi. A few kunai’s pinned him against the tree trunk, and moving would mean the explosive tags to go off.Sasuke gritted his teeth before letting his head hang.

“Fine...You win.” Sasuke said through gritted teeth. There was some cheering, even though most people had predicted the outcome correctly.  

The people started leaving as Shisui  jumped in front of Sasuke.

“Nice move, Itachi,” Shisui said as he looked at the kunais.

“Don’t touch it, Shisui.” Itachi quickly stopped Shisui’s hand, “Before we all explode.” Itachi pulled the kunais away, causing Sasuke to let himself sink through his knees from exhaustion.

“You must be so used to winning, victory must taste like butter.” Sasuke sighed.

“Like butter?” Itachi looked at Shisui.

“Because most people put butter on their toast in the morning. It is so normal that is tastes like butter,” Shisui explained .

“I eat oatmeal in the morning,” Itachi commented before extending two fingers. Sasuke looked up, still glaring at Itachi as he then embraced Itachi’s fingers with his own. He got up,massaging his wrists that hurt.

“How long before the feeling in my arm returns?” Itachi asked.

“Why? Do you need it for tonight?” Sasuke had this cocky smile back on his face and Shisui chuckled.

“Yes,I have another mission tonight.”

“How can you ruin everything so fast?” Sasuke shook his head as he grabbed Itachi’s wrist and pushed three different spots in his arm.

“Hey, what happened there?” Itachi looked at Sasuke’s shoulder blade.

“Nothing.” Sasuke pushed his hand in front of it since the stap got cut off the top was sinking on the right side.

“Are those scars?” Itachi didn’t seem to drop the topic.

“Everyone has scars,” Sasuke said,but Itachi wasn’t satisfied by those words.

“Can I see?” It was more a warning than a question.

“No,stop it, Itachi!” Sasuke hissed as he got pushed on the ground. Itachi lifted the tank top. His eyes widened a little, seeing the scars on Sasuke’s back

“Damn, what happened to you?” Shisui asked as he looked over Itachi’s shoulder.

“Let go of me!” Sasuke shouted as he got himself loose from Itachi’s grip.”What even gives you the fucking right?! You have no right!”

Shisui exchanged a look with Itachi.

“He is only concerned-”

“My ass concerned! Fuck you and fucking Mr privileged!” Sasuke shouted as he got up from the ground, running away from the two.

“I know I am your best friend and all...And I am always a 100% behind you with every decision you make, but I do give him a point. You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Like I could predict such over-emotional reaction. We all have scars.”

“True, but we all have scars we wished we hadn’t. He seemed embarrassed about it,”

“I wonder how he got them…”

read chapter 4

[coldtomyflash]

I can't stop thinking about the soulmates AU you posted! I really love the premise, and Barry's "promise to dump my body somewhere else" pulled at my heartstrings too. Except now I'm wondering how this would have played out without the soulmark conveniently (well, or inconveniently, depending on the perspective) the encounter, because Len already seemed somewhat reluctant about killing Barry before that. Ack, why is this so intriguing?!

I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s been thinking of it, to be honest. I enjoyed filling that prompt more than I expected.

And it’s a neat question, what would happen were it not for the Deux Ex Machina of them Bonding…. 

Let’s copy/paste and edit the scene to find out, shall we?

“CSIs aren’t supposed to have ‘hunches’ Barry. Leave it for the detectives, please.” Joe had been so exasperated when Barry wouldn’t stop badgering him over it. He’d promised to look into it but not until after he finished interviewing all his other leads and Barry was sure he was right. He had to be.

A chemical under the nails for a victim at one of the crime scenes had been traced back to an out of state refinery and Joe was waiting on information the firm promised to send them, but Barry had discovered that another person of interest in the case having an old connection to this distribution facility, which used to manufacture the chemical before the company had gone belly up under mysterious circumstances two years ago right after Luthor Industries had purchased it.

Joe thought the only reason Barry was interested was because he’d investigated the company before for his blog, because when it had gone under there were allegations on the internet of the company experimenting with chemicals on gene splicing and the internet ran with it and made it seem like they were trying to create a chimera or something. But so what if Barry thought there was something off about the company in general? Just because Barry believed in the impossible didn’t mean that the very plausible couldn’t also have happened here, and recently.

Barry was sure there was a connection to Joe’s case. And all he had to do was head to the abandoned building, poke around, and see if he could find any sources of the chemical still around. That should be enough to get the ball rolling, anyway, and bring some justice to the victims.

The taxi driver who drove him here clearly thought Barry was nuts for getting out a car in such a creepy place, but he just smiled and tipped well and hoisted his CSI kit higher on his shoulder before heading to a side door. Bingo. He saw the rusty old chain and lock were cut smooth, clearly by bolt cutters. He snapped a photo, latex gloves already on, and headed inside.

The door creaked loud and heavy on its hinges in the dark space and a sense of foreboding finally started to creep up on Barry. He pulled out his flashlight and clicked it on, walking in. It opened up to a warehouse, aisles and boxes, all in disuse. He cast the flashlight around, footsteps reverberating off the metal grated catwalk he’d walked in on, just a few feet above the floor of the warehouse, the sounds echoing around the space.

He swallowed, feeling like he was being watched. He told himself it was his imagination, or bats. A place like this was bound to have bats, and probably mice and other rodents. As if on cue, a scurrying noise shot his heartbeat into overdrive and he flashed his light onto an angry looking rat that sped away from the light, hissing.

Barry let out a breath and clutched the railing, almost giggled nervously, trying to calm himself down, thinking about solving the case with rodents. What a silly –

A heavy sound and echoing metal sound landed right behind him and he didn’t even get a chance to turn before he heard the tell tale click of a gun’s hammer and a “don’t move, kiddo. If you know what’s good for you.”

[ … ]

Len was giving a rundown of the plan to Rutenberg, Calis, and Thomspon when they all heard it - the door to the warehouse creaked open with a squeal on its rusted hinges, a loud bang as it hit the opposing wall and a quiet, surprised swear at the sound. The voice sounded young and a second later there was a flashlight waving around in the distance.

Len tensed. His men caught his eye and he raised a finger to his lips, sliding his feet slow and careful on the platform they were on, more or less overlooking the warehouse, around the wall and equipment that blocked their little lights from view of this intruder. A glance around told him it was just the one guy, carrying some bag. Len and his guys were a storey above him still and it was too dark to get a great view, but if he had to guess, he’d say the kid was too young to be a cop.

Which meant he was a total mystery, really. Len didn’t like mysteries, not until he’d solved them.

He nodded to Rutenberg, who had a question in his eyes and dragged a finger across his throat. Len shook his head and pointed at their little table. Bring him here, don’t kill him yet.

The man nodded, got it, and slipped down between the rails on the catwalk, moving like a spider. The kid freaked himself out with a rat - what an amateur - and it was all the opportunity Rutenberg needed to get him.

Len had to admit some surprise when the kid, when faced with a gun at the back of his head, actually tried to run. Wow. That took guts. Or stupidity. Len could almost appreciate it. But Rutenberg clocked him on the head and he dropped, groaning, and Calis went to help. They grabbed the kid’s bag and hauled him up. Len watched him struggle, curiosity mounting, but they twisted his arm and dragged him up the stairs all the same.

“Little shit - calm the fuck down, would’ya?” Rutenberg was complaining, trying to keep the kid’s feet on the ground

Calis was laughing at him even as he helped, voice deep. “He’s got spirit, this one.”

“Well well,” Len said, voice carrying. “What have we here?”

They threw the kid down in the empty space of their makeshift ‘workshop’ and he caught himself on his hands and his knees, breathing heavy, probably terrified. Thompson was at Len’s side and the other two opposite, blocking the stairs. There was no exit. Len pulled out his gun and tapped it idly against his own thigh, stepping forward.

“And just who might you be?” he drawled.

The kid looked up at him and caught sight of the gun, level with his eye. He yelped and shifted back, landing on his ass with his arms behind him and Len stepped hard on his ankle, twisting it down. The other man hissed in pain and glanced behind him, realizing he was trapped.

Calis kicked the kid’s bag over and he watched it slide up to Len’s feet, looking halfway sick.

“What’s in here?”

“You’re the ones responsible for the midtown murders,” the kid said as a complete nonsequitur. Len had… no idea what he was talking about, but it made him suspicious nonetheless.

“Who are are you?” he snapped.

He swallowed, glancing behind him again. Rutenberg made sure he was standing right in front of the stairwell, not that the kid was going anywhere with Len’s gun ready, boot still on his ankle.

“I’m not leaving, am I?”

“You catch on quick,” Len didn’t bother sugarcoating it.

“Why am I even still alive?”

“Because I’m curious what got you here in the first place.”

He nodded, and Len had to hand it to the kid, he had a stiff upper lip. He looked like he was fighting back the panic, it was all over his face, but the fact that he was succeeding at fighting it back, that was better than most.

“If I tell you…”

Len was prepared to put on a less frightening smile and make some believable promise about letting him go. Turns out, he didn’t need to.

“If I tell you, will you promise to dump my body somewhere else?”

That got his attention. His eyebrows drew together and he tilted his head, waiting.

“I’m - my foster father’s a detective on this case. He’s the only one who knows I’m here. If he doesn’t hear back from me or if I don’t show up at work tomorrow… he’s the one who’s going to come looking and I don’t–” his voice cracked, finally, and he held up his arm to his mouth, taking a second to gather himself before wiping his tears on his sleeve. “I don’t want him to be the one who has to find my body.”

Well. That almost pulled on Len’s non-existent heartstrings. It would make his life more difficult, but already he was getting more information than he’d bargained for. “That’s… fair,” he drawled, stepping off the guy’s ankle. “I’ll leave you in the river.”

He choked out a laugh, the type of skewed sense of humor Len could appreciate. “Thanks, I guess.”

Len’s crew chuckled too, already relaxing a little. It was a strange encounter. Killing the kid was gonna be annoying at this rate. The kid who was sitting up better now, knees drawn in closer though he was still on his ass. He was still trying to keep some measure of calm, so Len kneeled down to a squat, gun loosely craddled in his hand.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Barry. Allen.”

“Well, Barry, why don’t you tell me what got you here?” He was curious about that.

“I was following a lead.” Len nodded for him to continue and he took another breath, getting calmer with something to focus on. “There’s been a series of murders, sex workers mostly, and one of the victims had a chemical under her nails that can be traced somewhere out of state… or to here. No one wanted to follow this lead without exhausting other options so… I did.”

There were pieces missing here. Len narrowed his eyes. “And why are you investigating? Senior project? Wanna follow in your dear old dad’s footsteps?”

“What - you mean - oh Joe? No that’s - I’m a CSI, not a college student.”

He tensed and could feel his crew do the same. This kid was CCPD?

“How old are you?”

It wasn’t pertinent, but it somehow felt pertinent.

“24?” He moved suddenly, hand reaching up and Len had the gun in his face in and instant and he stopped even breathing for a second. “I was just - “ he croaked out, “just reaching for my laminate.”

Len used the gun to knock his hand aside and shifted till he was on one knee, right in the guy’s space so he could reach for where he saw the string of a lanyard at the kid (the man’s) neck with his other hand. He brushed aside the collar of his shirt, exposing his neck. The guy, Barry, stayed stock still, like a properly spooked animal, fight flight and freeze. Len’s fingers and thumb grazed the skin of his neck when he reached to tug at it and his skin was warm and smooth, the touch enough to stir something deep inside him. 

His lips twitched into an almost smirk, unconsciously indulging the train of thought for a half second. Dark imaginings, the ancient instincts of a predator with a lean neck arched and on display, prey in his grasp when Len was already so close, right between his knees. A racing heartbeat beneath his fingers. It would be easy, too easy, to take Barry by that neck and press him down against the floor here, take him and mark him and make him beg –

Barry flinched and Len pulled wrenched himself out of the sudden fantasy fast and hard, tensing his jaw, shoving aside the unwelcome mental imagery. 

The laminate had all the right credentials - Assistant CSI, downtown precinct, not an easy job to wrangle - and a photo of Barry’s grinning face, even younger than he was now. The contrast between the old photo and his current state helped him look closer to the 24 he actually was. Some people would always have a bit of a baby face, but around the eyes, Barry didn’t look all that younger after all. 

Len flicked the plastic back against his chest and shifted his weight to stand, knees reminding him why he didn’t squat all that often or for that long.

“So tell me, Barry,” he drawled, looking down at the man again, “the lead that brought you here - this chemical - what are the chances your hunch was right?”

Barry swallowed and Len willed his eyes not to track his Adam’s apple, collar of his shirt still askew. Except the look he gave Len was a little disbelieving. “I’d say… 100 percent?” He chanced a look behind him at Len’s crew then back at Len. 

He pursed his lips. “Boys, any of you kill a working gal recently?”

They shook their heads, Calis the most evenly. “More class than that, Snart. Even this one,” he pointed his thumb to Rutenberg, an inside joke and Len’s lips quirked. He glanced at Thompson, who shrugged.

“Hookers never done me wrong, boss.”

Len nodded. He tended to know what his men were up to, but even so, none of them looked nervous enough to be lying, no tells, no sudden shifts. A good liar could get away with it, but he’d be surprised if this apparent serial killer was one of his guys anyway. Which left the question.

“Who’s been here besides us?” Len mused. Barry’s attention snapped back to him. 

“If it’s really not you… “ He stopped talking and looked down.

“What is it?”

He seemed to be debating with himself and it was enough for Len to step closer to him again, enough to make him tilt his gun under the man’s chin, and he told himself he wasn’t doing it out of misplaced spite just to see Barry’s eyes widen like saucers.

Just to see his resolve harden despite the weapon. Had to hand it to him, he was a tough son of bitch, whoever he was.

“You’re in trouble,” Barry rasped.

“’N how’s that?” 

He swallowed again and Len relaxed the gun, refusing to let himself feel a little disappointed at the loss of an excuse to touch Barry, if only with his weapon. 

“Well?” he prompted, expecting an answer.

“The chemical - if it’s residual in the dirt here, which I think it might be, i’ts on your boots, might be in your clothes. If anyone knows you’ve been around here, you’re going to be the prime suspects.”

Len glanced at his men, all of them shifting uneasily. 

“Keep your cool, boys. Barry - these murders, how many’ve there been?”

He looked mulish, frowning a little, glancing at the gun at Len’s side then back up at him with some resolve. “Does it even matter? You’re going to kill me.”

“And dump your body in the river, yes.”

His resolve hardened. Len tried not to be intrigued.

“I’ve already told you enough.”

Len’s eyes narrowed. “I intend for you to tell me everything.”

Barry was silent, glaring. Len considered revoking his agreement to play nice with the corpse, debating if he was crass enough to promise to leave it ugly for the detective who might come looking.

“Snart?” Thompson broke the staring contest they devolved into and Len’s eyes snapped to him, angry. He’d almost been enjoyed that stalemate.

“What?”

Thomspon was standing with Rutenberg and Calis now at the stairs.

“Kid said a detective was gonna come look, right? Tonight sometime?”

Right. Thompson had the same train of thought but it went to a different station. They might not want to hang around for long.

“Why don’t you boys pack the place up? I’m gonna take Barry here for a walk by the riverside.”

Rutenberg and Thompson looked relieved, muttering their thanks and moving to pack of their gear. Calis looked calculating.

“He’s seen all our faces, Snart.”

Len tensed. He’d already moved to Barry’s side, ready to haul him up, but Calis’s words stopped him short and darkened his expression.

“You wanna kill him, be my guest.” He waved a hand at Barry, who flinched again, but Calis didn’t move. “Didn’t think so. I’ll decide what we do with our little CSI problem. Now–”

He shifted his attention back onto Barry, tempted to dig his fingers into all that hair and use it to haul him to his feet. Instead, he grabbed his arm and hauled him onto his feet, threw him against a cabinet. Barry caught himself against it and Len didn’t give him a chance to turn.

“Hands behind your back.”

With a shudder, Barry complied. He was tall, Len hadn’t realized quite how tall, long limbs like a gazelle. Len stowed his gun away and accepted the zip ties Calis handed him off the table without needing to be asked. He made sure to move up Barry’s sleeves to zip tie his wrists without them in the way, feeling the warm skin again, his pulse under the skin going a mile a minute.

He should probably be concerned about how tempted to was to find any excuse to touch this man, even if it was to hurt him, but it had been a long time since anyone as interesting as him walked into Len’s world. It was a shame that he should kill the kid, and probably would.

“C’mon.” He dragged Barry forward by the arm, grabbing up his bag as he headed for the stairs. “Let’s go for a stroll, Barry.”

.

.

.

[Y’all are making me want to write this]

[shadowsong26fic]

Yet Another AU because I love these things

This idea actually came up in discussion with my Roommates last month, but I decided to do a Distaff variant instead b/c I’m so so sorry it was late. (Is still late...)

[The other AU outlines I’ve done can be found in the tag]

Anyway. We all love time travel fics, right? Here’s one with Luke. Tiny, precious, twelve-year-old* Luke.

Who jumps back to the last year/year and a half of the Clone Wars.

And lands on Ventress.

*Luke is possibly ten instead? Somewhere in that range, anyway. We’ll say twelve for now.

ANYWAY, Luke is off exploring/goofing off, as bored kids do, and he comes across a narrow, winding little canyon he’s never seen before.

“Huh,” he thinks. “Could’ve sworn I knew this part of the desert better than this.”

Naturally, he decides to see where it leads. He finished his chores early today, and there’s still a few hours before dark, so he has time. Adventure!

Except then things get...weird.

He could swear he’s only been walking an hour, but it’s suddenly dark. And, when he turns around to retrace his steps, all he sees is solid rock.

“I’ve got a Bad Feeling(tm) about this...”

There’s no way to go but forward, so he does. Especially when he catches a glimpse of a campfire flickering up ahead.

He knows there’s a good chance whoever built it is Not Friendly--he’s not an idiot--but he is beyond lost, he’s got no supplies...he figures it’s worth taking a chance. At least peeking a little closer. So he heads for the fire to ask for help.

And there, he finds Ventress! Ventress has just finished a job.

This is a few weeks after her and Obi-Wan vs. Maul and Savage.

Why is she camping in the desert? ...reasons.

So, this random kid comes up to her. This--bright, shiny, supernova-in-the-Force kid.

....okay, then.

Ventress really does not have time for this shit.

When he asks for her help, she considers telling him to get lost. See above, re: no time for this shit. Also, she’s really, really uninterested in babysitting a brat who was stupid enough to wander off in the desert like this.

Except the alternatives to keeping him are killing him (which would be...pointless, really; also she’s not super-interested with killing a random kid who’s no threat to her at this point in her timeline, unless she’s being paid for it), or sending him off to a slow death via desert or Sand People (which is just lazy; if you’re gonna kill someone, freaking do it.)

Besides, maybe his parents will pay her if she brings him home. Not a lot--he’s dressed like a small-time farmer--but, hey, every penny counts.

“You can stay here tonight,” she finally says. Might as well keep her options open.

He brightens. “My name’s Luke,” he offers.

“I don’t care,” she grumbles. “Go to sleep.”

Things get...messy...the next morning.

See, that bounty Ventress just collected? Someone else thinks it was his, and resents her poaching.

He and a bunch of his heavily-armed friends track her down, catching up with her and Luke just as they’re breaking camp.

Naturally, a fight ensues.

Ventress is exceptional, but vastly outnumbered.

Luke is tiny and inexperienced, but a) he knows the desert, b) he’s a decent shot, and c) he can hotwire a speeder in under thirty seconds.

Suffice to say, with Luke being a major contributor, they kick some ass and escape unharmed on a bike Luke stole from one of the other bounty hunters.

Ventress grudgingly admits that the brat was kind of useful back there, and he possibly just saved her ass a little bit--or at least spared her some inconvenient and painful injury--so maybe she shouldn’t demand a ransom after all.

She sighs, and instructs him to pull over so she can drive--kid’s good, but she has her dignity to think of--and tells him she’ll take him home, make sure he gets there safe, then take the bike and leave.

Things get weird again when they get to the Lars homestead.

Luke has her stop at the edge of the property. “This isn’t right,” he says, biting his lip. There’s supposed to be another building right there; he and Uncle Owen just finished putting it up last season. And the closest vaporator is an older model; one he vaguely remembers trying to climb as a toddler, before it was replaced.

Also, he’s pretty sure that old man is his step-grandfather, who died before he was even born.

“What about it?” Ventress asks. She can feel the Force swirling around them, around Luke, like ripples spreading out from a stone dropped in a pond.

“This is my uncle’s farm, but it’s wrong.”

And he sort of--sort of--has a clue, because there’s Stories, about people wandering into the desert and coming back to find that years have passed in a night. But things are a different kind of wrong. He’s never heard about anyone going backwards. Besides, that’s all they were--stories. Right?

He takes a deep breath. “What year is it?” he asks, after a long minute.

She quirks an eyebrow and tells him.

“That doesn’t make sense!” He blurts out what year it’s supposed to be.

Which...actually does make a weird amount of sense to her. Because of the way he casts ripples in the Force, if nothing else.

And, honestly, she’s seen weirder crap than time-travelling twelve-year-olds. She led a zombie army, for crying out loud.

Luke is freaking out a little bit, so she punches him to get him to shut up.

She points out that, while ideally he gets back to his own time, he still needs to survive until he figures out what the hell happened, let alone how to reverse it. “Lucky, you have a home where you can wait all that out.”

(A part of her knows that’s a stupid idea--whatever brought him back here, either it’ll work in its own damn time or he’ll need information he sure as hell won’t get on tiny farm in the middle of nowhere on freaking Tatooine.)

“They don’t know me yet,” he says sadly, scuffing the ground a little.

....no, she insists to herself. She does not need a kid tagging along, especially one this bright with power who has no idea how the world works. At least in the here and now.

But he’s quick on his feet, and keeps a level head in a crisis.

And he is a decent shot.

And one hell of a getaway driver.

Besides, she can always ditch him later if he gets too annoying. Changing her mind in the other direction would be a lot harder.

“Fine,” she grumbles. “You can come with me. For now.”

“Okay,” Luke says. Where else would he go, anyway?

And thus begins the highly entertaining saga of Asajj Ventress luring twelve-year-old time-travelling Luke Skywalker into a Life of Crime.

Except, as the weeks and months pass, it becomes less her leading him into a life of crime (...well, it kind of is; he’s really, really good at stealing cars and Being a Distraction), and more her evaluating jobs based on how Sad Luke looks when she does something really unethical.

What, she thinks, what the hell is this. Why do I give a damn what the brat thinks? I did not sign up for a portable conscience! I am leaving him behind at the next port, I swear.

Except somehow she never does. She picks jobs that won’t disappoint Luke, and he uses his share of the profits to get shiny things that would make their ship so cool, Asajj.

Eventually, she gives up and accepts the inevitable. For as long as Luke is stuck in the past, he’s hers.

(She wishes, sometimes, that she could take him back to Dathomir, and introduce him to her sisters.)

(...important detail I forgot to mention before: she doesn’t know his full name. He didn’t give it when introducing himself, and she never bothered to ask.)

They probably have an Encounter with Boba Fett at some point.

Possibly Cad Bane or Hondo.

Maybe even BB!Han and/or Lando because why not.

So many possibilities...

Fast forward a bit. Luke and Ventress are hanging out on Coruscant, when she sees a familiar face with a  bounty attached.

(Anakin’s had some...weird...dreams the past few days. Not bad, not threatening, just...weird. Ever since he got recalled to investigate the Temple bombing. They’ve taken second place to said investigation, since they don’t seem to be urgent or anything, but--he’s maybe a little bit distracted.)

(Luke’s been dreaming, too. He told Asajj about them. She tells him to keep track of them, and tries to guide him through looking for what actual useful information might be in them, but dreams have never really been her strong suit...)

Anyway, Ventress tells Luke to stay in the apartment, and goes to Investigate.

The first bit, with Ahsoka, goes mostly as in canon.

With an added incentive for her pardon--if she’s free and clear, she can get Luke the help he needs, to figure out his dreams and find his way home.

(Honestly, she’s sort of surprised he hasn’t caught any eyes yet, shiny and powerful as he is. Jedi really are blind idiots.)

(And didn’t Dooku’s Master live on Coruscant? ...maybe she should take Luke somewhere safer...)

(After she helps Skywalker’s brat and earns her pardon.)

The part where she gets jumped by Barriss and loses her lightsabers does, too.

Except she called Luke to let him know she was on her way home. And when she doesn’t turn up, he goes looking for her.

And then Anakin tracks her down.

They fight; Ventress does her whole “Ahsoka and I have a lot in common. My master abandoned me, and that’s exactly what you did to her.”

That’s when she senses Luke getting close.

And, suddenly, it clicks.

Talk fast, she tells herself, because there’s no way this conversation ends well if Skywalker sees Luke now, with Tano still in play. (Because if he gets distracted and delays and fails to save his apprentice because of them...)

She gets out what she knows as quickly as possible.

Except Anakin senses him, too. And Ventress suddenly got tense and very to-the-point, with none of her usual banter.

But Ahsoka needs him right now; he has to fix that first.

But whatever’s going on here is Important; he knows that with every fiber of his being.

Besides, if Ventress is brushing him off, if she’s lying to him--

Anakin is thisclose to strangling her again when Luke comes charging in.

“Asajj!”

“I told you to wait for me in the apartment,” she snaps, trying to get between him and Skywalker before things get even more out of hand.

Anakin is VERY CONFUSED right now because what the hell is going on okay that’s definitely the presence I felt approaching but none of that explains why the hell Ventress has a kid with her.

Let alone why this kid feels so familiar.

Luke peers up at Anakin with big, puzzled blue eyes, trying to answer some of the same questions in his own mind.

“Don’t you have an apprentice to save?” Ventress cuts in, putting a hand on Luke’s shoulder and pulling him behind her.

(Luke tries to wriggle past her; settles for peering out from behind her back.)

“Ventress--” Anakin starts.

“Well?” she prompts. “And isn’t that rescue time sensitive?”

He continues to hesitate a breath longer. But she’s right. He knows she’s right. 

"Maybe we can help,” Luke pipes up.

That, at least, seems to get through Skywalker’s thick skull. “No, I’ve got this,” he says. Then he glowers at Ventress. “But after I talk to Barriss--”

“I’ll be here, Skywalker,” she says, then, realizing her mistake, claps a hand over Luke’s mouth before he can blurt something out and hold the Jedi here any longer. “Run along now.”

He almost rises to the bait, then glances at Luke and turns and leaves again.

Ventress relaxes once Skywalker’s gone, and lets go of Luke’s mouth.

“He is not a navigator,” Luke says, sounding thoroughly awed.

“.......no,” she says. “Who told you he was?”

“My uncle,” Luke says. “He doesn’t talk about him much. He died before I was born.”

Ventress has a Very Bad Feeling(tm) about the future.

And she does some quick mental math.

Oh karking hell.

She takes Luke back to the apartment, and starts grilling him for details. Which she now realizes she probably should have done a long damn time ago.

Anakin, meanwhile, goes back to the Temple to confront Barriss. He’s still at least partway focused on that kid in the alley, which might affect the outcome of their duel.

She does still get captured, and Ahsoka’s innocence is still proved, though.

And Ahsoka still leaves.

So he’s still reeling, on several levels, when he goes back to look for Ventress and the kid.

He doesn’t have to look too hard; she lets him find them in an alley not too far from where they separated.

“Are you okay?” Luke asks.

“Sure,” he lies.

Luke looks up at Ventress, uncertain.

“Not here,” she says, and leads the way back to her apartment.

“I keep dreaming about you,” Luke blurts, as they walk. “I mean, I think I’m dreaming about you? It’s all sort of vague.”

Anakin thinks back on his own weird dreams the last few days, and nods. He has some kind of connection with this kid, and he can almost--

He stops, in the middle of the street. No...that’s not possible.

“Not here,” Ventress hisses. Luke takes his hand and tugs it.

They get to the apartment, and Luke confirms what Anakin has started to guess.

“I’m Luke Skywalker,” he says. “I’m from the future. And I’m your son.”

For a minute, Anakin just stares at him, because this can’t be real; he and Padme are so careful, and time travel is not a thing.

But he can feel the truth of what Luke is telling him.

Ventress waits until he settles, then follows up with a bombshell of her own.

“You know I’m not your friend. Or your Order’s. But I am Luke’s friend. And based on what he’s told me, about how and where he grew up--raised by people I had never heard of, and believe me, I know who most of your friends are. So we think something awful is about to happen. We don’t know what, exactly, but a lot of people are going to die.” She sighs. “And I suppose we want to help you stop it.”

...and that’s about as far out as I have planned in detail. But Padme, of course, will be brought in on this pretty much right away. Ventress will probably drag Obi-Wan in even if Anakin refuses; he owes her a favor and they parted on reasonably good terms, and he’s good at this sort of thing (“He looks a lot like Ben,” Luke muses, after meeting him; which just raises more questions), and once Luke shares the Emperor’s name...

Shit is going to Go Down.

Bonus:

MEANWHILE, BACK IN THE FUTURE

After Ben realizes Luke is missing, he sends a message to Bail, and then goes to try and find him...

[tonystarktogo]

pain is part of the package, darling

I should be working *cough* WIPs *cough* on so many things but my muse has abandoned me and I couldn’t concentrate so instead this happened. This is one of those Someone-on-the-team-gets-a-wake-up-call-in-regards-to-Tony. It happens in a bit of a different context though...as it turns out my mind really works in weird ways. Let’s just say that not everything is as it seems in this 'verse. Or I’m way more obvious than I realise, which is entirely possible. Enjoy :)

Summary: IronFalcon. It’s pure coincidence, the first time Sam notices the bruises. And, just like that, he can’t stop noticing them. Read on AO3.

Part I

They haven’t been in a fight in over three weeks, which is the only reason why Sam even notices.

The team has come together in the kitchen on one of those rare Sunday mornings where everyone is accounted for and nobody is in hiding to avoid retribution for their latest prank, which is in itself unusual. So is Tony joining them, not wearing his perfectly fitted bespoke suit but a lose T-shirt and sweatpants.

Which is not adorable at all, because Tony is a grown man and Sam really needs to get a handle on this ridiculous crush he’s been harbouring for his team mate for an awkwardly long time. Even when Tony is glaring blearily at everyone but Clint—who hands him a cup of freshly brewed coffee, which explains the lack of hostility—Sam wishes the genius would be leaning against him instead of the damn counter. He never liked the stupid thing anyways—and yes, definitely ridiculous.

Sam averts his gaze and pretends he wasn’t just irrationally jealous of a kitchen counter. Nope, that sure didn’t happen. His attention is drawn back to source of his obsession a moment later, when Tony sets his now empty cup down with a gentle clack and yawns so wide his jaw cracks, arms raised above his head.

“Long night with that secret girlfriend we all pretend you didn’t disappear with yesterday?” Clint wiggles his eyebrows but there’s genuine curiosity in his voice. 

Tony’s newest relationship is a constant source of jokes and teasing from the other Avengers’, mainly because he’s managed to keep it a complete secret. Not even Pepper or Rhodey know, and that’s, well. Unusual doesn’t even begin to cover it.

For once though, Sam is too distracted to be bothered by yet another inconvenient reminder of the not unimportant fact that Tony is taken and he should really get over it. Because there, on the inside of Tony’s upper arm, where his T-shirt has ridden up, is a bruise. It’s a striking, bright blue colour, with sprinkles of purple and fading green surrounding it, and it makes absolutely no sense.

Sure, bruises aren’t anything rare in their line of work, but the last few weeks have been quiet, almost uncomfortably so. And as much as Steve likes to nag Tony about his lack of self-care, usually it’s more the sleep and nutrition that’s the problem.

So, because Sam is a huge dumbass who can’t keep his mouth shut and is way too invested into anything involving Tony Stark, he blurts out, “Where did you get that bruise?”—with the subtlety of Steve Rogers at his most stubborn, if the telling gaze Natasha shoots him is anything to go by.

Tony blinks at him, brown eyes a lot sharper than they were seconds ago, shrugs. “Don’t remember.” He grins lewdly, causing Clint to crack up and make the sort of suggestive joke that makes the tip of Steve’s ears turn bright red, and the conversation moves on.

It doesn’t escape Sam’s notice though that Tony doesn’t lift his arms over his head again, and he wonders.

*

“Ow.” Tony lets out a low, pained grown.

The glance Bruce shoots him is in equal parts fond and concerned. “You sure you’re alright, Tony?”

“Yeah, you took that building down pretty hard,” Clint grins wickedly at the memory—and perhaps at the way Steve’s eyes narrow at Tony’s pitiful form. 

Steve is a nightmare when it comes to getting your injuries checked out properly, which is the most hypocritical bullshit Sam’s ever heard. He’s once watched Steve tear Clint a new one for not telling anybody about his cracked rips whilst simultaneously waving away the doctor trying to remove a knife big enough to feature in every cheap horror flick that had been stuck in his leg. Granted, it had only been a flesh wound and the super soldier body could take it, but the audacity had struck Sam speechless all the same.

“I told you the suit could handle the impact,” Tony whines. Then, without turning his head, “Cap, put those judgy eyes away before I throw something. Seriously, I’m fine.”

Tony finds Sam’s eyes and the two share a long-suffering glance of wordless understanding in regards to over-bearing team mates.

“Tony-” Steve never did know when to quit.

“I’m fine,” he repeats, a slow, easy smile on his lips that is contradicted by the annoyed twitch in his left eye. “Just a little sore, nothing to do with the crash. Promise.”

*

They’re in the gym, almost two weeks later. It’s Natasha’s turn to teach the rest of the team a particular move. At least that was what this meeting was supposed to be about. 

But then Clint accused her of showing off and the two of them got into a play-fight that turned into a scarily-real-but-still-just-having-fun-kicking-my-friend’s-ass-fight very quickly—as all fights between them are known to—Steve and Tony got into another discussion about proper self-care—the kind Steve will inevitably storm away from in a couple of minutes, because those two are completely unable to ever just talk—and Bruce has taken advantage of everyone’s distraction to sneak back into the safety of his lab, cruelly abandoning Sam in the process—which he’ll get the other man back for. In a non-Hulk-invoking way.

His careful revenge planning is interrupted by Tony yelling something unintelligible, pulling one leg of his favourite sweatpants up and gesturing wildly at Steve, clearly trying to make a point that won’t make any sense to an uninvolved bystander.

What really catches Sam’s eye though isn’t Steve’s eye-roll, it’s the longish bruise on the back of Tony’s left calf. It’s a couple of days old, the outer edge already fading into green-yellowish tones, but that means it must have been a pretty hard hit—or maybe a shove, because it looks more like the back of Tony’s leg made a very painful contact with a hard edge.

It’s most likely nothing. Tony is a not-quite-ordinary human on a team of superheroes after all, and really, when you think about it, it seems kinda weird how worked up Sam gets over a couple of harmless bruises.

And yet.

There’s this moment where Sam swears Tony catches him staring, where the slight smile freezes on his lips and he lets his pants fall down again, an odd expression on his face that Sam could’ve sworn was shame. And it’s no proof, not even close to it, but it’s something, and even though he doesn’t really want to, even though the thought seems absolutely ludicrous, Sam suspects.

*

On Thursday afternoon, Tony stumbles into the living room, looking like death warmed over, all waxy, pale skin and sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. Sam heroically stamps down the urge to throw himself across the room and bury Tony in a pile of blankets.

“You don’t look so good,” Natasha comments in that dry voice she uses to describe a mutated T-rex clone the size of a three store building as ‘big enough to do some damage’.

“Too much...spinning...” Tony moans pitifully. “Make it stop!”

“You forgot to eat lunch again, didn’t you.” Bruce is less than impressed by the pout he gets in response to his question-slash-statement. His deeply unamused glare doesn’t fool anyone though, especially when he proceeds to hand Tony a juice box and some crackers with a resigned sigh.

Sam decides to leave them to it, having no desire to get dragged into another one of Bruce’s rants. He pats Tony’s head in passing and smiles at the weak glare the pale genius shoots him in return.

*

They’re in one of SHIELD’s emergency decontamination showers because fighting a giant gooey worm determined to flatten Manhattan into the ground is how Sam spends his Friday nights these days. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to anyone when said worm, upon his defeat, detonated, spraying everything in its vicinity with a rainbow coloured slime. But they were caught unaware all the same. It is sticky, smelly, disgusting and will possibly turn Sam into a moustache-twirling villain any second now. Which is why they’ve been carefully escorted into this hastily erected SHIELD bunker in the first place.

Them being Sam and Tony—of course they had been the only ones close enough to get hit by the blast. Sam still can’t remember at which point in the fight Tony was forced or chose to leave his suit, but clearly it did happen. Otherwise he might not have been here now, on Sam’s side of the glass wall, yelling at the top of his voice at some poor SHIELD agent, who stutters something about protocols and safety measures whenever Tony needs to take a breath.

It’s kind of ridiculous.

Apparently the agent thinks so too because he finally storms off—to his credit, Sam would’ve quit several minutes ago—leaving a huffing Tony behind. Who continues to murmur complaints under his breath, but it’s less true resistance now and more complying while being as difficult as possible, just because he can. As proven by the fact that he’s reaching for his utterly ruined shirt and begins to unbutton it.

Shit. It hasn’t occurred to Sam until now, too busy being distracted by the fight, the goo, the Tony, but faced with his slowly undressing team mate, it suddenly becomes frighteningly clear that he’s going to share a decontamination shower with his crush.

“What are you waiting for?” Tony smirks invitingly over his shoulder and okay, Sam’s seen the guy use this expression against reporters daily, this should not have any affect on him at all. He can totally handle this. “An invitation?” Tony wiggles his butt jokingly.

Sam absolutely can’t handle this.

It’s lucky then, in the most terrible way, that he doesn’t have to. Because when Tony slips out of his pants—a move proven a lot more difficult by the goo that makes the fabric stick to your skin almost painfully—his inconvenient attraction is about the last thing on Sam’s mind.

Well, maybe not last. But definitely far below ‘What the fuck?!’ and ‘Someone is gonna die for this’ and ‘Get your shit together, Wilson, you are not helping!’

The last one, at least, is undeniably true. Sam is unashamedly staring and with it being just the two of them, there really is no way Tony is going to miss it. He can’t help it though. Tony looks-

There are some scratches on his cheek and hands, and a thin, already clotted wound on his left shin. All of them undoubtedly the results of their most recent fight.

Then there are the bruises.

Then there are the bruises.

They spread out along Tony’s legs, starting at about mid-calf. They are single, longish bruises in light tones, the kinds you might gain from running into a door accidentally or stumbling on the stairs. Some are dotted on his kneecaps in dark blues and violets, whereas the ones on the insides of his knees are lighter, though the skin is still a little red. All in all, though colourful, those bruises are still fairly harmless. They stand out because of the sheer amount of them, not because one in particular looks terrible.

The same can’t be said for Tony’s thighs. They are a mess. The inside of Tony’s thighs looks like one giant bruise, except for the truly impressive range of colours. The skin is rubbed raw all over. Deep purple blotches, tiny sprinkles of an even darker colour, surrounded by fading stains of lighter blues and greens. There’s no system in them, no exact pattern, but the way the various discolourations bleed into each other is almost pretty, in an abstract, horrifying way.

This isn’t the kind of injury you get from a single incident, that much Sam knows immediately. The bruises are too layered for that. At least some of them are also too old to have been caused by their recent fighting. Never mind that Sam struggles to think of anything that could have caused Tony this kind of injury, especially inside the suit.

And Tony’s thighs, though clearly the worst, aren’t the end of it either. There are faint discolourations close to his hipbones and some more more visible ones on the insides of his upper arms. Those two have an unusual form, oval, almost round. The kind that Sam struggles to associate with any kind of accident. Hell, even on the bridge of his foot there are bruises, and dark ones at that.

In short, Tony looks like he’s been thrown down a couple of stairs, and that doesn’t even begin to explain the state of his thighs.

Sam has also been staring at Tony for what feels like an eternity in abject horror, when Tony pointedly clears his throat. The teasing smile as slid off his face and it’s impossible not to notice that he’s angling his body away from Sam as much as possible—though his options are very limited.

“Like what you see?” Tony tries to joke, but his voice catches a little and his fingers curl slightly at his side, like he wants to hide away.

Sam hates it. He hates that unsure expression on Tony’s face, hates that he put it there. Hates that he has no clue how to ask the very obvious question without Tony clamming up and shutting him out. Most of all, Sam hates how incredibly out of his depth he feels.

This isn’t like him at all. He’s good at this stuff, usually. Good at getting stubborn assholes to open up about their messed up emotional state—case in point: Steve—he doesn’t bullshit and dance around a subject. He’s also never been in a situation like this.

Sam knows better than most that being a superhero doesn’t make you invincible, doesn’t even make you a functioning human. And he damn well knows that if he saw anyone else with these kinds of bruises, he’d call the police—and fuck, maybe it’d turn out to be nothing, but he sure as fuck wouldn’t take the chance. But with Tony? Who is he even supposed to call?

He’s known the guy for almost a year, has had a pathetic crush on him for going on four months and even he struggles with the idea that someone might be- hurting Tony. That Tony might let them.

Sam feels sick.

He gets through the shower in somewhat of a daze. He’s peripherally aware of the occasional, lingering gaze from Tony but he can’t- he doesn’t know. By the time it’s finally determined that they won’t be turned into the undoing of mankind and the two of them are back at the Tower, all Sam wants to do is get out of the sanitised clothes SHIELD gave them, crawl into his bed and sleep. If only to stop thinking for a while.

He can’t though.

He asks JARVIS to show him the security footage of the SHIELD bunkers instead. He needs to see it one more time, needs to convince himself that this is real.

“I’m sorry, Mister Wilson,” JARVIS replies without inflection, “it appears there has been a glitch. The last five hours seem to have accidentally been erased.”

For some reason, Sam isn’t surprised.

*

The next morning comes far too quickly. It appears Sam’s the only one to think so however. By the time he arrives in the kitchen, everyone else is already up and about. Bruce is standing at the stove, Clint appears to be losing a fight against the coffee machine. Tony is talking to Natasha, clearly already on his third coffee with how bubbly he is.

Everything is normal.

Then Sam meets Tony’s eyes for the briefest of moments before Tony averts his gaze—and Tony never averts his gaze. Sam swallows and tries not to stare at his now fully clothed team mate, tries not to trace the lines where he knows the bruises are hidden.

The funny thing is that even now that Sam is paying attention, there’s nothing in Tony’s behaviour that gives him away. His jokes are as sharp and crass as ever, he doesn’t flinch even though the way Natasha pats his leg must have hurt. He’s just Tony, filling the entire room with his mere presence.

He doesn’t have any proof, but there’s no way to unsee the past twenty-four hours, and, even though he feels like half the pieces are still missing, Sam knows.

Yup, that’s it. That’s as far as I got. Turns out I’m terrible at describing injuries. Anyways, what do you think? Would you like to see a continuation? Any ideas in regards to the bruises? Other thoughts? Please share them with me, I’m curious to hear what you think!

I hope you all are having a great day! Remember, likes and reblogs are for free ;)

[cloudbatcave]

Here we are with green-haired ramble boy, back to serenade me with his misguided activism.

“They may say it is for understanding one another better, but what trainers really use battles for us to compete...”

The two aren’t mutually exclusive, and while some people might lean more toward one or the other, it does not make either inherently better or worse.

“And they hurt each other’s Pokémon!”

Look, N, I get it. You have a sad backstory. Your dad is such a big tool that Home Depot sells things in Ghetsis size. But this is precisely zero of my business.

“Am I the only one who finds this terribly painful?”

I find your repetitive monologues painful.

“Whatever...I’m going to talk to your Pokémon.”

Well that seems perfectly in ord - what.

“I’ve been living with Pokémon since I was born, so it’s easier for me to talk with them than with people.”

Right. Okay.

“...Because Pokemon never tell lies.”

Incorrect but you have no way of knowing about mewtwo or the other legendaries, so.

“Hey, Zebstrika. Would you tell me what kind of trainer Chirae is?”

Marty’s inside his poke ball. What are you talking to, crazy boy.

“Ok, Ok, got it. So Chirae was born in Nuvema Town, lives with Mom, and was given the Pokédex to start off a journey to see the world.”

Hey, uh, he has no way of knowing that. I caught him like, yesterday. Unless he talked to Fiend, who’s my oldest remaining team member, who I guess could have heard it from my Servine back when Vide was still alive.

Wait why am I devoting thought to this.

“Still, this Zebstrika trusts you for some reason. That’s good!”

You say that like anything you just stated is somehow suspect, idiot. I am literally a child everyone keeps giving random tasks to.

“If every person and Pokémon cared about one another like you two do, I could watch over the future of people and Pokémon without having to liberate Pokémon from people who just use them.”

The view must be nice from that high Mudsdale of yours.

“Ghetsis is using team plasma to search for some special stones - the light stone and the dark stone...”

So why aren’t you there, helping him. Aside from the fact I’m the closest thing you have to a human friend. Wow, I just depressed myself.

“These stones hold the essence of two legendary Pokémon. It is said that when they lost their physical form, they fell into a slumber and were transformed.”

You heard it here folks: the gen 5 legendaries are actually crystal gems.

“Now, they wait for the hero’s arrival...I shall resurrect a legendary dragon type Pokémon from one of those stones, and become its friend.”

That sounds like something that could never affect me, an ordinary thirteen year old, at all.

“That will show the world that I am the new hero. Everyone will follow what I say!”

Brah, you self-admittedly know almost zilch of humanity. That’s not how it works even in Pokémon land.

“My vision is to change the world without using force.”

You’re doing a great job changing my state of consciousness to snooze.

“Trying to change the world by force will just make others resist. If people resist, the ones that will be hurt are the innocent Pokémon used by foolish trainers.”

Nnnnot just them? Also people.

“You understand.”

That makes one of us with that opinion!

“Pokémon are not just tools for people to use!”

Yes.

“As a result...Pokémon and trainers who care about one another, like you and your Pokémon, will be separated. And that does break my heart a little.”

No.

Finally he flounces. Dear god.

I trundle my way to the cave that will take me to the next city but Cheren ambushes me before I can actually go up the steps to go in.

He blabs about how we both have the Jet Badge and should see who’s stronger.

Spoiler alert: it was me. Though his unfezant did its best to annoy me by using detect twice in a row, so I just threw in Marty to clean its clock with discharge.

My favorite moment was when his liepard used fake out on fiend, but guess what motherfucker, inner focus means no flinching!

Then Alder shows up, jumps down a cliff because i guess he can just do that, and Cheren says “If it isn’t the champion, Alder.”

WHO ELSE HAS HAIR LIKE THE SUN? This boy. I swear.

“I’m weak, so I lost!”

No, you’re just created for the express purpose of me kicking your ass.

“And honestly it bothers me when you call it a fine battle despite that.”

On one hand I can sympathize with Cheren as someone who loses despite how hard he tries, and I agree Alder is annoying and pretentious, but on the other it’s a Pokémon battle. Obviously someone will lose, and it’s not my fault he keeps challenging me.

“Oh, honestly, Cheren. Just accept the compliment without the stinging remark.”

For once I’m on Alder’s side.

“I’ve asked you this before, but what do you plan to do after becoming strong?”

Hopefully go live as a hermit so I never have to talk to him again.

Cheren blah’s about how being champion will be the reason for him to exist and how he’ll be really living because he watches too much damn anime.

Alder says he reminds him of someone called Marshal and says what someone does with power is more important. A cliche, but a valid one.

He gives us both Surf, which means it’s time to use my dead Tranquill to fly me around because no one else I’ve caught can learn fly and it’s surf time, damn it.

Cheren admits he doesn’t know what he wants to do and just wants to be strong so everyone will acknowledge him because he has no friends. Bianca and I don’t count.

“Chirae...next time, I will win!”

I’d love to let you so you shut up but alas, the game makes that inconvenient. Also my desire to piss you off is stronger.

[mydemonispain-blog]

Tag ‘Em and Bag ‘Em (With @TouchAndDie)

Reyes

*I was damn near skipping my way down the hall to Torin’s room. My boots clunked a happy tune on the stone floor, arms doing their best not to swing with each long stride. Weapons were strung tight to my sides and back, stuck to me like magnets, as if they knew their purpose this day. My hands fisted and unfisted, practicing for what would no doubt be a blood session with our latest fortress guests. I wore a wicked smile, one to match Pain as he did touchdown celebration dances across my mind. I could feel him pressing closer to my skin with each step, he was eager to witness and feel the agony that Torin would bestow upon his Hunter prisoners. One of them was already ill, and even though we had yet to see him, the demon knew, he could sense the suffering. Maybe he had sores that were leaking pus all over his body. Maybe his skin had worn away with bed sores. Maybe his organs and bones were being slowly consumed by some parasite, eaten alive from the inside. The knowledge made Pain warm and giddy. I laughed, just laughed for no fucking reason as I stopped outside Tor’s door and gave it a knock. Today was going to be a bloody, broken-boned, glorious day.* Tor-Tor, ask mommy if you can come out and play? We’ve got some brand new toys waiting for us in the dungeon.

Torin: I watched as Rey bounced down the corridor. It was almost video worthy, if not for the fact that I’d have no one to show. With no explanation that wouldn’t make them all pissy. And they were grumpy as fuck enough of the time without adding to that voluntarily. I’d been surprised at Reyes’ agreement to torture the hunters. Not because I didn’t think he’d enjoy it, I knew he would. But mainly because I’d allowed them in the fortress and then done something, that should they get away, meant that I could wipe out a large proportion of the world. Illness could be spread so many ways, and depending on the virus, if it was air born, one sneeze or cough and suddenly an epidemic was started. I waited until he was close enough to knock on the door before even bothering to get up. My snort was loud enough that I knew he could hear me, “Why not just ask me to build a fucking snowman and be done with it.” I pulled the door open and then waited until Rey either made his way in, or stepped back. As much as I wanted to kill the rest of the Lords on a regular basis, I would never actually hurt any of them on purpose, and touching them, even accidentally, was as good as stabbing them in the heart. I wiped my hands down my body to check for weapons and when I was satisfied that I had what I needed, I moved out of the room after Rey. Honestly, I didn’t need weapons. Unless the hunters came in full hazmat suits and took me down without allowing me the ability to rip the suit or touch them, I was untouchable. Literally. But I liked to have the weapons on me, it went back to the years before the demon. Before I housed disease. The need for violence was in my blood, and probably explained why I was still a virgin at however many thousands of years old. I rolled my eyes at the pity party and instead woke Disease so he could enjoy the show. As soon as he figured out what we were doing I wished I’d left the screaming banshee asleep. “We’ll check if they’ve touched the sick on, and see what disease he’s got. Then we can go to town on the other two. Just…………..be careful. It’s not just hunters in there. Disease is in there too.” I nodded my warning as I clicked in the numbers to the door that would take us down to the dungeon. “Ready?”

Reyes:

*Torin was all business as he opened the door fully strapped with weapons and had a look of determination on his face. He knew the consequences of what could happen down there. We had to make sure that whatever sickness Disease had unleashed, that it died down there with the Hunters. And I had to make sure I didn’t become a carrier, or I’d share the demon of pestilence with all the other Lords and any humans I came into contact with. I made a note to myself to spend the next few days holed up in my room with my favorite collection of zombie movies and a few dozen footlong sandwiches to pass the time. Just to be safe. Torin gave me the standard warning about avoiding his demon, to which Pain whined.

Hey, asshole, do you really want the kind of suffering that traps us in the bathroom for the next seventy-two hours?

/All pain is good. All suffering. Good./

Yeah, yeah, well, I don’t feel like playing cuddle buddy with my toilet.

As Torin led the way down his secret passageway to the dungeon, I made note of the twists and turns he took. I may need this kind of route one day. It amazed me that after so long in this fortress, there still could be secrets hidden in its walls. Then again, any time William came around, it felt like the walls that divided the Underworld from up here seemed to bend and crack a little. Dude had something freaky about him, that was for sure. Anyways, at the door, I tried to sneak a peek at the code Torin entered, but was unsuccessful as his big stupid gloves blocked my view. Sneaky fucker.*

Yeah I’m ready. Let’s get this party started, Torin.

*The door swung open, and immediately my senses were on alert as the scents and sounds of suffering wafted up from below. Oh yes, Disease had done well. Patient Zero was positively morbid, I could tell that without even seeing the guy. And his comrades weren’t doing too well themselves, either. Pain inhaled deeply and sighed, stretching his limbs and getting himself ready for what was to come.*

Torin: I knew that Rey was trying to eyeball the code to the door, and I wasn’t having that at all. I needed to keep some secrets around this place.It was my only source of entertainment for the most part. I wondered if Rey would try to make his way down here again without me, and I had to chuckle to myself as I thought on the traps I’d set up along the corridor that were in full force when I wasn’t coming down here myself. That would provide years of blackmail and entertainment value should he try it. I was half tempted to make a point of saying how much I didn't want him down here without me. Just to spur him on. Once we were through the door I could already hear the moaning of the hunter I’d carefully infected. I’d know immediately if it was a disease that could be passed along as the others would also be sick. As soon as I got a good look at the three hunters in the set up I wasn’t even sure I knew whether they were sick or just scared out their minds. For the most part hunters were assholes. But they normally had the cannon fodder in the lower ranks, those who just thought they were signing up for something without any danger. Or were easily swayed by the recruitment process. They normally pissed their pants within a few minutes of being around one of us. And I wasn’t normally anywhere near them. Having let them stew in here the last day or two and left them with their sick friend, I had obviously had the effect I wanted. Since the other two were cowered in a corner. From this distance I couldn’t tell if they were infected, and I kicked Disease who was focused on the sick one with glee, admiring his work. As soon as his focused changed I could tell they weren’t sick, the thumping in my head got even stronger as he pushed me on to infect the two that were left, “Soon, enough!” I don’t know why I bothered speaking, it wasn’t like he listened. Instead I turned to Reyes, “Ok, those two just look like shit. They’re not infected. You want to get them set up so you can do your thing? I’ll see if I can’t finish off this sick one to see how much the others talk before you beat it out of them?” I arched a brow to see if Rey had another plan, or whether he was able to get to kicking ass without too much issue.

Reyes:

*I hung back as Torin inspected the prisoners. We needed to know what we were dealing with. I let Pain groan and whine as he laser-eyed the sickly hunter. The guy was definitely not gonna last the weekend at this rate. But had the others gotten close enough to get sick? That’s what we needed to know. When Torin finally turned and gave me the all-clear, I didn’t hesitate.*

I’ll be ready in a jiffy, Germy.

*I moved over and unlocked the cell door, taking one long stride with my boot and picking up the two healthy but scared-shitless men by the back of their necks. Pain was practically screaming in my head for me to break their necks, but I knew that would end all the fun much too quickly. I drug them outside the cell and threw one up against the concrete wall. The THWACK of his skull hitting the stone was enough to set Pain off, his hysterical laughter echoing around in my head. The guy hit the floor and was out. Easy enough. The second one I carried with me as I picked up some chains, bringing him back over to the outside of the cell, where I proceeded to chain him up to the iron bars. I wanted him to be close enough to hear and see what Disease was doing to his friend. Once the hunter was secured I retrieved the other, his dead weight annoying but not an inconvenience. I chained him up too and figured he’d wake up eventually. Blood was oozing down the side of his head, but I could tell he was still very much alive. I stepped in close to the still-conscious hunter and nearly brushed noses with him.*

So, Torin. What’s our little friend over there have? Smallpox? Leprosy? Roundworm? Ohhh.. that one I can’t pronounce where the maggots eat you from the inside out? Because I’d love to dig a few of those out and feed them to my new friend here.

Torin: I watched in amusement as Reyes decided to take both males at once. I didn’t give a shit, I was used to sitting back and watching, and to be honest, I was closer than I normally was. Seeing it through a computer monitor was normally the only view I got. This felt different already. I’d almost forgotten the adrenaline rush that came with getting information from the Hunters after years of hiding away where I couldn’t be touched. Even the brush of skin on skin when I’d infected the first hunter had been a rush. And that had lasted mere seconds. I arched a brow at the first hunter as he lost consciousness. Obviously Rey had a plan, and I was happy to play along with whatever it was. I could finish off the sickly one if needs be. I was sure disease could also prolong the inevitable should he need it. I moved closer to the hunter who was trying to cower into the corner, almost as if the stone at his back would welcome him in with open arms. I snorted and moved in closer still, crouching down to get a better look at the sickly looking male. “You might want me to cut him open anyway. But if I’m passing you things that have been on his insides, you’re wearing a mask and gloves. I’d wrap you head to toe in plastic wrap if I could. But I know you’d just try and kick my ass if I did that.” I turned back to the hunter and smiled, “Now, what disease were you given? The big guy in my head isn’t all that talkative. Just a lot of ‘Infect. Disease. Death’ chanting going on. It can get quite dull. Now my friend here, he’s real big into causing pain. Want to see if you can stay alive long enough to see what he can do?” I grinned widely and returned my focus to Rey, waiting on what he fancied doing next.

Reyes:

*As Torin taunted the Hunters, I reached back and withdrew a long blade. It wasn’t the sharpest but it was mostly for effect. Men had a tendency to go all limp when we started comparing swords, if you know what I mean. I took the blade and drew a line from the prisoner’s hairline right down his nose and across his cheek. Not a deep cut, but the nerves on human’s faces were so sensitive, it had him whimpering the whole way. Pain whimpered in a much kinkier manner, and I hissed softly at the way it even enticed me. Then I turned and pointed the blade at the sickly one next to Torin* Tell me where it hurts little boy. Oh wait. *I set the blade at my temple as Pain zeroed in on the sickly Hunter* Don’t tell me… it’s your… abdomen? *Without another word I jammed my knife into the gut of the Hunter chained to the iron bars in front of me. His screams sent Pain into a frenzy.* Is it more… to the side here? *I wiggled the tip of the dagger in that direction, to the symphonic mastery of my victim’s cries* Don’t be shy now, tell us what’s hurting your little tum tum. Or… you could stop all this by just giving my good pal here Torin the information he wants from you.

Torin: I arched a brow at Reyes as he dragged the knife down the face of the hunter he had in front of him. The male was about half a second away from screaming or fainting. Either would be amusing, and Disease was practically moaning in my head. I took a step back when the knife that Reyes was holding hit its mark in the abdomen of the same whimpering male. I couldn’t help the growl as disease started to really bang at the inside of my skull, wanting out. I probably needed to stop being a mother hen about this and actually finish the job, but with Reyes here, I needed to be certain he wasn’t infected, it was entirely his own fault if he got blood or any other bodily fluid all over him, I could do nothing more than watch at this point, but I wasn’t about to take his enjoyment away from this. I had chosen to hide myself away and take pleasure in watching idiots get blown up coming up the hill towards the fortress. Reyes didn’t have that much luck. He used himself and his seeming inability to really die to his advantage. But while his demon enjoyed the pain, HE didn’t enjoy the pain. Who would? Just as my demon enjoyed infecting anyone and everyone with virus after virus until the entire population was wiped out, despite the short sight of then having no one to ever infect ever again. But I didn’t want that to happen. I couldn’t watch it and allow that to happen. No matter how much the human race seemed to be slowly digging into the dregs of brain function. I folded my arms across my chest and eyed the male I’d infected. He’d passed out from the view he had of his friends stomach. He’s possibly be out a while, or never wake up. But unless the one with the funky new face scar wanted to start talking, he’d be woken up one way or another.

Reyes:

*I groaned in frustration as the sickly one passed out from the view of his friend’s insides getting gutted nice and good with my blade.* Dammit. Too much for the poor sick one. *I sighed and stepped back, perking when the previously unconscious male I had chained up next to my surgery patient started to wake up.* Now that’s more like it. Lucky suitor number three, wakey wakey. *I slapped his face a few times just to make sure he was good and alert before looking back at Torin.* I’ll refrain from carving up this one until you get the intel you’re looking for. But as you can see…*I grabbed the newly-awoken Hunter’s face and turned it so he could see his deathly ill friend across the way, then his lacerated friend right next door.* We are getting a big desperate for answers, Hunter. And this is what happens when we get desperate. Comprende? *His response was some sort of cry mixed with begging and blubbering. Family, wife, kids, whatever. I knew how the story went. They got themselves into this when they joined the Hunters. Thought they’d be doing good work and all that bullshit. Until they actually had to fight us. Then things got complicated in a New York Minute. I covered his mouth with my hand, staining his lips and cheeks with the blood of his comrade.* Ask your questions, Torin. This one is ready to spill all the beans and I do believe it’s supper time.

Torin: I looked between the men currently decorating the floor to the small jail. I didn’t really care how scared they were. They chose this life, even if they didn’t fully understand it. Ignorance was bliss, until they ended up with their intestines slowly spilling across concret. I couldn’t help the amusement that chased across my face as Reyes got the attention of the remaining healthy hunter. The white blanket that hit him head to toe was satisfying to watch, that blood draining away as soon as he got a good look at his team mates. I had no idea if these three were friends, or had just been teamed up for this mission. I didn’t much care either. Hunters anywhere near the fortress spelled disaster for my brothers should they managed to get in and cause any damage. God forbid they found any of them in a weakened state when we were preoccupied elsewhere. I nodded to Reyes when he spoke directly to me and crouched down in front of the male who looked about ready to piss his pants, “I’m not planning on infecting you. I just need a location. We’ll start with your base or operation, and then we can work on any other hubs you know of in the area. I’ll go as far out as you need. I’m not about to release your hands, so you can give me verbal commands or visual ones. Don’t care which, but fuck up, and one or other of will make you feel like your colleagues here. Give us what we want, and Rey might be merciful.” I smiled, knowing Reyes’ version of mercy was probably a slit throat or something. I couldn’t control which disease was given. And if I told the asshole demon in my head what I wanted, he’d do the opposite just because he could. I unfolded a map of Budapest and stuck my pen where we currently were, my eyes flicking between the male and the map until I had around 8 nearly crossed areas to look into. I smiled at the male and pushed back to my feet. “Nicely done. Do you know any other places outside of Budapest? Were you recruited somewhere else and then sent here?” At the shake of his head I nodded and tugged at my gloves one more time to ensure they were secure before patting Reyes on the shoulder and stepping back to start a search on my phone, “All yours. The infected is about to pass away. And I think the other is pretty much out of blood. What did you want to do with this one for being so helpful?” I ignored the whimper from the male who thought his life would be spared. One thing we couldn’t do was allow hunters out of the fortress to give away any secrets from inside. We might have mercy at times, but that rule was unbreakable.

Reyes:

*I grinned in smug satisfaction as the last remaining hunter spilled all he knew to Torin. He was pale as a ghost, likely near fainting by my estimates. But he held on just long enough to give Disease what he needed. And the intel would certainly serve us well going forward. Pain got even more giddy at the thought of taking down a few Hunter hideaways. I laughed along with him as Torin gave me the green light to finish this one off. The prisoner’s eyes met mine, tears leaking down his face. He was wondering how slow I’d make him die, how much he’d suffer. I weighed it back and forth in my head. Sure, Pain had gotten quite a fill today, seeing the disease-ridden victim of Torin and then having our own fun with the second Hunter. Alright. It was enough to tide him over a bit. Plus, once we got out to see those eight other locations, Pain would have plenty of time to play. With a solemn nod to the human, I let him know it would be quick. The demon in my head whined, but Pain couldn’t really argue with my reasoning. I did have a bit of human compassion some days, and that man could show mercy from time to time. I stepped over to the guy, taking his head in my hands. My thumbs instinctively rubbed away the salty tears on his cheeks as I let out a slow breath. He sighed a little in resignation, and before his next breath I snapped his neck quick to the side, breaking it. It was over. I looked over at Torin, who was watching me with interest.* I’ll take care of these two bodies, do you want to handle the sick one? We can burn them behind the fortress.

Torin: It took a minute to get out of my own head and focus on Reyes to connect with what he was saying. Once I did I was nodding enthusiastically, “I’ll bring the sick one round once the fire is going. That way he’s not hanging around. I’d not mind wrapping him in something so he doesn’t drip anywhere.” I nodded and let my eyes track to the male whose neck had obviously been broken, nodding more to myself than anyone at the act of mercy on the male who had given us the information. I tucked my phone in my back pocket and stepped forward. “You can take the one whose insides are dribbling everywhere, I’ll take the clean one. We’ll get things set up and then I’ll come back for sicky. His information seems to be good. I have already got a whole bunch of footage from local cameras and mobiles etc that show at least a dozen of the normal suspects. Even some of the ones higher up in the organisation. Now we have that evidence, they won’t know what hit them if we decide to take out their base of operations around here. If it’s planned just right, you could probably keep one alive long enough to find out some of their bigger locations.” I nodded again and bent to pull the less messy hunter into my arms, still being overly careful not to accidentally touch skin to skin at any point. While they were dead, I was pretty certain illness could still infect until he was nothing but ash. “Lead the way and we’ll get this bonfire going. Think we can find some marshmallows in the kitchen?” I grinned at Rey and then winked at the last remaining hunter. I could already tell he’d be dead before we got back, so I was confident that leaving him here would be fine. It wasn’t like he had a phone or a weapon on him. With a jerk of my chin I started moving with my cargo, assuming Rey would follow on after me once he’d untied his hunter for transport. #BagEmAndTagEm #DemonTales

[touchanddie]

Bag ‘em and Tag ‘em (With @MyDemonIsPain)

Reyes

*I was damn near skipping my way down the hall to Torin’s room. My boots clunked a happy tune on the stone floor, arms doing their best not to swing with each long stride. Weapons were strung tight to my sides and back, stuck to me like magnets, as if they knew their purpose this day. My hands fisted and unfisted, practicing for what would no doubt be a blood session with our latest fortress guests. I wore a wicked smile, one to match Pain as he did touchdown celebration dances across my mind. I could feel him pressing closer to my skin with each step, he was eager to witness and feel the agony that Torin would bestow upon his Hunter prisoners. One of them was already ill, and even though we had yet to see him, the demon knew, he could sense the suffering. Maybe he had sores that were leaking pus all over his body. Maybe his skin had worn away with bed sores. Maybe his organs and bones were being slowly consumed by some parasite, eaten alive from the inside. The knowledge made Pain warm and giddy. I laughed, just laughed for no fucking reason as I stopped outside Tor’s door and gave it a knock. Today was going to be a bloody, broken-boned, glorious day.* Tor-Tor, ask mommy if you can come out and play? We’ve got some brand new toys waiting for us in the dungeon.

Torin: I watched as Rey bounced down the corridor. It was almost video worthy, if not for the fact that I’d have no one to show. With no explanation that wouldn’t make them all pissy. And they were grumpy as fuck enough of the time without adding to that voluntarily. I’d been surprised at Reyes’ agreement to torture the hunters. Not because I didn’t think he’d enjoy it, I knew he would. But mainly because I’d allowed them in the fortress and then done something, that should they get away, meant that I could wipe out a large proportion of the world. Illness could be spread so many ways, and depending on the virus, if it was air born, one sneeze or cough and suddenly an epidemic was started. I waited until he was close enough to knock on the door before even bothering to get up. My snort was loud enough that I knew he could hear me, “Why not just ask me to build a fucking snowman and be done with it.” I pulled the door open and then waited until Rey either made his way in, or stepped back. As much as I wanted to kill the rest of the Lords on a regular basis, I would never actually hurt any of them on purpose, and touching them, even accidentally, was as good as stabbing them in the heart. I wiped my hands down my body to check for weapons and when I was satisfied that I had what I needed, I moved out of the room after Rey. Honestly, I didn’t need weapons. Unless the hunters came in full hazmat suits and took me down without allowing me the ability to rip the suit or touch them, I was untouchable. Literally. But I liked to have the weapons on me, it went back to the years before the demon. Before I housed disease. The need for violence was in my blood, and probably explained why I was still a virgin at however many thousands of years old. I rolled my eyes at the pity party and instead woke Disease so he could enjoy the show. As soon as he figured out what we were doing I wished I’d left the screaming banshee asleep. “We’ll check if they’ve touched the sick on, and see what disease he’s got. Then we can go to town on the other two. Just…………..be careful. It’s not just hunters in there. Disease is in there too.” I nodded my warning as I clicked in the numbers to the door that would take us down to the dungeon. “Ready?”

Reyes:

*Torin was all business as he opened the door fully strapped with weapons and had a look of determination on his face. He knew the consequences of what could happen down there. We had to make sure that whatever sickness Disease had unleashed, that it died down there with the Hunters. And I had to make sure I didn’t become a carrier, or I’d share the demon of pestilence with all the other Lords and any humans I came into contact with. I made a note to myself to spend the next few days holed up in my room with my favorite collection of zombie movies and a few dozen footlong sandwiches to pass the time. Just to be safe. Torin gave me the standard warning about avoiding his demon, to which Pain whined.

Hey, asshole, do you really want the kind of suffering that traps us in the bathroom for the next seventy-two hours?

/All pain is good. All suffering. Good./

Yeah, yeah, well, I don’t feel like playing cuddle buddy with my toilet.

As Torin led the way down his secret passageway to the dungeon, I made note of the twists and turns he took. I may need this kind of route one day. It amazed me that after so long in this fortress, there still could be secrets hidden in its walls. Then again, any time William came around, it felt like the walls that divided the Underworld from up here seemed to bend and crack a little. Dude had something freaky about him, that was for sure. Anyways, at the door, I tried to sneak a peek at the code Torin entered, but was unsuccessful as his big stupid gloves blocked my view. Sneaky fucker.*

Yeah I’m ready. Let’s get this party started, Torin.

*The door swung open, and immediately my senses were on alert as the scents and sounds of suffering wafted up from below. Oh yes, Disease had done well. Patient Zero was positively morbid, I could tell that without even seeing the guy. And his comrades weren’t doing too well themselves, either. Pain inhaled deeply and sighed, stretching his limbs and getting himself ready for what was to come.*

Torin: I knew that Rey was trying to eyeball the code to the door, and I wasn’t having that at all. I needed to keep some secrets around this place.It was my only source of entertainment for the most part. I wondered if Rey would try to make his way down here again without me, and I had to chuckle to myself as I thought on the traps I’d set up along the corridor that were in full force when I wasn’t coming down here myself. That would provide years of blackmail and entertainment value should he try it. I was half tempted to make a point of saying how much I didn't want him down here without me. Just to spur him on. Once we were through the door I could already hear the moaning of the hunter I’d carefully infected. I’d know immediately if it was a disease that could be passed along as the others would also be sick. As soon as I got a good look at the three hunters in the set up I wasn’t even sure I knew whether they were sick or just scared out their minds. For the most part hunters were assholes. But they normally had the cannon fodder in the lower ranks, those who just thought they were signing up for something without any danger. Or were easily swayed by the recruitment process. They normally pissed their pants within a few minutes of being around one of us. And I wasn’t normally anywhere near them. Having let them stew in here the last day or two and left them with their sick friend, I had obviously had the effect I wanted. Since the other two were cowered in a corner. From this distance I couldn’t tell if they were infected, and I kicked Disease who was focused on the sick one with glee, admiring his work. As soon as his focused changed I could tell they weren’t sick, the thumping in my head got even stronger as he pushed me on to infect the two that were left, “Soon, enough!” I don’t know why I bothered speaking, it wasn’t like he listened. Instead I turned to Reyes, “Ok, those two just look like shit. They’re not infected. You want to get them set up so you can do your thing? I’ll see if I can’t finish off this sick one to see how much the others talk before you beat it out of them?” I arched a brow to see if Rey had another plan, or whether he was able to get to kicking ass without too much issue.

Reyes:

*I hung back as Torin inspected the prisoners. We needed to know what we were dealing with. I let Pain groan and whine as he laser-eyed the sickly hunter. The guy was definitely not gonna last the weekend at this rate. But had the others gotten close enough to get sick? That’s what we needed to know. When Torin finally turned and gave me the all-clear, I didn’t hesitate.*

I’ll be ready in a jiffy, Germy.

*I moved over and unlocked the cell door, taking one long stride with my boot and picking up the two healthy but scared-shitless men by the back of their necks. Pain was practically screaming in my head for me to break their necks, but I knew that would end all the fun much too quickly. I drug them outside the cell and threw one up against the concrete wall. The THWACK of his skull hitting the stone was enough to set Pain off, his hysterical laughter echoing around in my head. The guy hit the floor and was out. Easy enough. The second one I carried with me as I picked up some chains, bringing him back over to the outside of the cell, where I proceeded to chain him up to the iron bars. I wanted him to be close enough to hear and see what Disease was doing to his friend. Once the hunter was secured I retrieved the other, his dead weight annoying but not an inconvenience. I chained him up too and figured he’d wake up eventually. Blood was oozing down the side of his head, but I could tell he was still very much alive. I stepped in close to the still-conscious hunter and nearly brushed noses with him.*

So, Torin. What’s our little friend over there have? Smallpox? Leprosy? Roundworm? Ohhh.. that one I can’t pronounce where the maggots eat you from the inside out? Because I’d love to dig a few of those out and feed them to my new friend here.

Torin: I watched in amusement as Reyes decided to take both males at once. I didn’t give a shit, I was used to sitting back and watching, and to be honest, I was closer than I normally was. Seeing it through a computer monitor was normally the only view I got. This felt different already. I’d almost forgotten the adrenaline rush that came with getting information from the Hunters after years of hiding away where I couldn’t be touched. Even the brush of skin on skin when I’d infected the first hunter had been a rush. And that had lasted mere seconds. I arched a brow at the first hunter as he lost consciousness. Obviously Rey had a plan, and I was happy to play along with whatever it was. I could finish off the sickly one if needs be. I was sure disease could also prolong the inevitable should he need it. I moved closer to the hunter who was trying to cower into the corner, almost as if the stone at his back would welcome him in with open arms. I snorted and moved in closer still, crouching down to get a better look at the sickly looking male. “You might want me to cut him open anyway. But if I’m passing you things that have been on his insides, you’re wearing a mask and gloves. I’d wrap you head to toe in plastic wrap if I could. But I know you’d just try and kick my ass if I did that.” I turned back to the hunter and smiled, “Now, what disease were you given? The big guy in my head isn’t all that talkative. Just a lot of ‘Infect. Disease. Death’ chanting going on. It can get quite dull. Now my friend here, he’s real big into causing pain. Want to see if you can stay alive long enough to see what he can do?” I grinned widely and returned my focus to Rey, waiting on what he fancied doing next.

Reyes:

*As Torin taunted the Hunters, I reached back and withdrew a long blade. It wasn’t the sharpest but it was mostly for effect. Men had a tendency to go all limp when we started comparing swords, if you know what I mean. I took the blade and drew a line from the prisoner’s hairline right down his nose and across his cheek. Not a deep cut, but the nerves on human’s faces were so sensitive, it had him whimpering the whole way. Pain whimpered in a much kinkier manner, and I hissed softly at the way it even enticed me. Then I turned and pointed the blade at the sickly one next to Torin* Tell me where it hurts little boy. Oh wait. *I set the blade at my temple as Pain zeroed in on the sickly Hunter* Don’t tell me… it’s your… abdomen? *Without another word I jammed my knife into the gut of the Hunter chained to the iron bars in front of me. His screams sent Pain into a frenzy.* Is it more… to the side here? *I wiggled the tip of the dagger in that direction, to the symphonic mastery of my victim’s cries* Don’t be shy now, tell us what’s hurting your little tum tum. Or… you could stop all this by just giving my good pal here Torin the information he wants from you.

Torin: I arched a brow at Reyes as he dragged the knife down the face of the hunter he had in front of him. The male was about half a second away from screaming or fainting. Either would be amusing, and Disease was practically moaning in my head. I took a step back when the knife that Reyes was holding hit its mark in the abdomen of the same whimpering male. I couldn’t help the growl as disease started to really bang at the inside of my skull, wanting out. I probably needed to stop being a mother hen about this and actually finish the job, but with Reyes here, I needed to be certain he wasn’t infected, it was entirely his own fault if he got blood or any other bodily fluid all over him, I could do nothing more than watch at this point, but I wasn’t about to take his enjoyment away from this. I had chosen to hide myself away and take pleasure in watching idiots get blown up coming up the hill towards the fortress. Reyes didn’t have that much luck. He used himself and his seeming inability to really die to his advantage. But while his demon enjoyed the pain, HE didn’t enjoy the pain. Who would? Just as my demon enjoyed infecting anyone and everyone with virus after virus until the entire population was wiped out, despite the short sight of then having no one to ever infect ever again. But I didn’t want that to happen. I couldn’t watch it and allow that to happen. No matter how much the human race seemed to be slowly digging into the dregs of brain function. I folded my arms across my chest and eyed the male I’d infected. He’d passed out from the view he had of his friends stomach. He’s possibly be out a while, or never wake up. But unless the one with the funky new face scar wanted to start talking, he’d be woken up one way or another.

Reyes:

*I groaned in frustration as the sickly one passed out from the view of his friend’s insides getting gutted nice and good with my blade.* Dammit. Too much for the poor sick one. *I sighed and stepped back, perking when the previously unconscious male I had chained up next to my surgery patient started to wake up.* Now that’s more like it. Lucky suitor number three, wakey wakey. *I slapped his face a few times just to make sure he was good and alert before looking back at Torin.* I’ll refrain from carving up this one until you get the intel you’re looking for. But as you can see…*I grabbed the newly-awoken Hunter’s face and turned it so he could see his deathly ill friend across the way, then his lacerated friend right next door.* We are getting a big desperate for answers, Hunter. And this is what happens when we get desperate. Comprende? *His response was some sort of cry mixed with begging and blubbering. Family, wife, kids, whatever. I knew how the story went. They got themselves into this when they joined the Hunters. Thought they’d be doing good work and all that bullshit. Until they actually had to fight us. Then things got complicated in a New York Minute. I covered his mouth with my hand, staining his lips and cheeks with the blood of his comrade.* Ask your questions, Torin. This one is ready to spill all the beans and I do believe it’s supper time.

Torin: I looked between the men currently decorating the floor to the small jail. I didn’t really care how scared they were. They chose this life, even if they didn’t fully understand it. Ignorance was bliss, until they ended up with their intestines slowly spilling across concret. I couldn’t help the amusement that chased across my face as Reyes got the attention of the remaining healthy hunter. The white blanket that hit him head to toe was satisfying to watch, that blood draining away as soon as he got a good look at his team mates. I had no idea if these three were friends, or had just been teamed up for this mission. I didn’t much care either. Hunters anywhere near the fortress spelled disaster for my brothers should they managed to get in and cause any damage. God forbid they found any of them in a weakened state when we were preoccupied elsewhere. I nodded to Reyes when he spoke directly to me and crouched down in front of the male who looked about ready to piss his pants, “I’m not planning on infecting you. I just need a location. We’ll start with your base or operation, and then we can work on any other hubs you know of in the area. I’ll go as far out as you need. I’m not about to release your hands, so you can give me verbal commands or visual ones. Don’t care which, but fuck up, and one or other of will make you feel like your colleagues here. Give us what we want, and Rey might be merciful.” I smiled, knowing Reyes’ version of mercy was probably a slit throat or something. I couldn’t control which disease was given. And if I told the asshole demon in my head what I wanted, he’d do the opposite just because he could. I unfolded a map of Budapest and stuck my pen where we currently were, my eyes flicking between the male and the map until I had around 8 nearly crossed areas to look into. I smiled at the male and pushed back to my feet. “Nicely done. Do you know any other places outside of Budapest? Were you recruited somewhere else and then sent here?” At the shake of his head I nodded and tugged at my gloves one more time to ensure they were secure before patting Reyes on the shoulder and stepping back to start a search on my phone, “All yours. The infected is about to pass away. And I think the other is pretty much out of blood. What did you want to do with this one for being so helpful?” I ignored the whimper from the male who thought his life would be spared. One thing we couldn’t do was allow hunters out of the fortress to give away any secrets from inside. We might have mercy at times, but that rule was unbreakable.

Reyes:

*I grinned in smug satisfaction as the last remaining hunter spilled all he knew to Torin. He was pale as a ghost, likely near fainting by my estimates. But he held on just long enough to give Disease what he needed. And the intel would certainly serve us well going forward. Pain got even more giddy at the thought of taking down a few Hunter hideaways. I laughed along with him as Torin gave me the green light to finish this one off. The prisoner’s eyes met mine, tears leaking down his face. He was wondering how slow I’d make him die, how much he’d suffer. I weighed it back and forth in my head. Sure, Pain had gotten quite a fill today, seeing the disease-ridden victim of Torin and then having our own fun with the second Hunter. Alright. It was enough to tide him over a bit. Plus, once we got out to see those eight other locations, Pain would have plenty of time to play. With a solemn nod to the human, I let him know it would be quick. The demon in my head whined, but Pain couldn’t really argue with my reasoning. I did have a bit of human compassion some days, and that man could show mercy from time to time. I stepped over to the guy, taking his head in my hands. My thumbs instinctively rubbed away the salty tears on his cheeks as I let out a slow breath. He sighed a little in resignation, and before his next breath I snapped his neck quick to the side, breaking it. It was over. I looked over at Torin, who was watching me with interest.* I’ll take care of these two bodies, do you want to handle the sick one? We can burn them behind the fortress.

Torin: It took a minute to get out of my own head and focus on Reyes to connect with what he was saying. Once I did I was nodding enthusiastically, “I’ll bring the sick one round once the fire is going. That way he’s not hanging around. I’d not mind wrapping him in something so he doesn’t drip anywhere.” I nodded and let my eyes track to the male whose neck had obviously been broken, nodding more to myself than anyone at the act of mercy on the male who had given us the information. I tucked my phone in my back pocket and stepped forward. “You can take the one whose insides are dribbling everywhere, I’ll take the clean one. We’ll get things set up and then I’ll come back for sicky. His information seems to be good. I have already got a whole bunch of footage from local cameras and mobiles etc that show at least a dozen of the normal suspects. Even some of the ones higher up in the organisation. Now we have that evidence, they won’t know what hit them if we decide to take out their base of operations around here. If it’s planned just right, you could probably keep one alive long enough to find out some of their bigger locations.” I nodded again and bent to pull the less messy hunter into my arms, still being overly careful not to accidentally touch skin to skin at any point. While they were dead, I was pretty certain illness could still infect until he was nothing but ash. “Lead the way and we’ll get this bonfire going. Think we can find some marshmallows in the kitchen?” I grinned at Rey and then winked at the last remaining hunter. I could already tell he’d be dead before we got back, so I was confident that leaving him here would be fine. It wasn’t like he had a phone or a weapon on him. With a jerk of my chin I started moving with my cargo, assuming Rey would follow on after me once he’d untied his hunter for transport.