#so Black Pearl is more like a harpy I guess?

[quibbs126]

I made a second flavor swapped Cookie thing, this time with seamoon

I again just needed something to draw. I was originally planning to draw berry flavored Dark Cacao, possibly with Dark Choco, but I couldn’t figure out what to draw them doing. I mean I could have just done head drawings, but the first one had an actual pose/scene going on, and so I wanted there to be an actual pose. Then I started thinking about maybe drawing a swap seamoon kiss

I was trying to figure out what other Legendaries I could swap them out with, and I thought of Fire Spirit and Wind Archer (or more accurately, their elements), and I was wondering if that might have some Icarus elements to it, and I got excited with that and other potential ideas and went for it

I was thinking of fire for Moonlight with the idea that the Wizards was using fire as their basis of research rather than the night sky. I haven’t entirely figured out whether Moonlight would be representative of the sun (would work for the Icarus idea), or if she was born out of the core of a volcano. I’m leaning more towards the latter though. As for Sea Fairy, I thought that the sky would be a suitable substitute for the sea, as they’re both large parts of the world and have various creatures associated with them. And again, possible association with fire/the sun. And possibly also because firewind

I definitely took more liberties with their designs than I did last time. It was likely in part because I was more focused on the elements than the specific characters these swaps were based on. Sea Fairy was more a mix of Wind Archer and Sugar Swan, with the design being more Sugar Swan and the colors more Wind Archer. I may be a known griper of Sugar Swan Cookie’s design, but she does have a deity look to her

The first thing I thought to do with Moonlight was to have her hair floating upwards, since she’s made of fire, and also it’d look good for the drawing. I didn’t draw her hat because I originally had forgotten about it, and then I thought that the hat would interfere with the hair. I did keep the bottom part though, and I guess it’s like some sort of tiara now. I think it looks good. I also added a cape because Fire Spirit has one, with it taking the place of her bottom half frills

I’ll be honest, some of these changes were just because I didn’t want to draw certain parts of the character, like Sea Fairy’s coral and such. I don’t think it looks too bad though

Yeah I guess I might make this a series then? I just make flavor swapped Cookies doing stuff? It’s not that bad a concept, and maybe it frees up my creative space from the perpetual fankid struggles. Also it could be better practice for posing and drawing characters together. I just have to be careful when swapping some Cookies though

(By the way I still want to draw berry Dark Cacao, but I still don’t know what to draw him doing, so you know. If you have ideas. Dark Choco can be in there too)

[maid-with-sunset-in-her-hair]

Sansa was wearing silver and purple at Joffery wedding. She also wore that silver hairnet of black amethyst. Dany was shown to wore silver collar with purple amethyst st Qarth and her eyes were compared with amethyst. Sansa was carrying poison which was used for killing Joffery who was her nephew and king. Could be foreshadowing for Dany killing her nephew Aegon who will be king. Plus the rumors about Sansa turning into winged wolf after killing Joffery fits more Dany flying over Drogon.

Hello Dot! You’re probably right that it’s partially foreshadowing about Daenerys killing her nephew like Sansa killed hers. But I also wanted to add that the symbolism for amethysts is slightly different in Daenerys’ chapters and much more prominent than in Sansa's chapters.

Daenerys wore a purple dress and amethyst bracelets together with a gold slave collar to meet with Khal Drogo, who ended raping her until she wanted to die:

The girl slid the gilded sandals onto her feet, while the old woman fixed the tiara in her hair, and slid golden bracelets crusted with amethysts around her wrists. Last of all came the collar, a heavy golden torc emblazoned with ancient Valyrian glyphs. (AGOT Daenerys I)

The scene of Daenrys getting ready to meet him is actually very similar to the scene of Sansa unwittingly getting ready for her wedding with Tyrion. A golden child bride with amethysts and a silver child bride with moonstones, foils and parallels. Like Sansa, Daenerys is also being trapped in an abusive situation.

Her ancestors are described as having amethyst eyes during her wake the dragon dream, and they're encouraging her to pursue a doomed legacy of fire and blood under the belief she’ll find a home and a place to belong:

Ghosts lined the hallway, dressed in the faded raiment of kings. In their hands were swords of pale fire. They had hair of silver and hair of gold and hair of platinum white, and their eyes were opal and amethyst, tourmaline and jade. (AGOT Daenerys IX)

Xaro gifted her an amethyst collar top ward off poisons, but it's implied he's sabbotaging her attempts to gain the support from others in Qarth and trying to get her killed so he can steal her dragons:

"A dream delayed, no more." Dany's tight silver collar was chafing against her throat. She unfastened it and flung it aside. The collar was set with an enchanted amethyst that Xaro swore would ward her against all poisons. The Pureborn were notorious for offering poisoned wine to those they thought dangerous, but they had not given Dany so much as a cup of water. (ACOK Daenerys III)

For Sansa amethysts are poison, for Daenerys they’re supposed to protect her from poisons, but are a poison of another kind. She paid for the Unsullied with a box of black amethysts:

Jars of saffron, jars of myrrh, jars of pepper and curry and cardamom, an onyx mask, twelve jade monkeys, casks of ink in red and black and green, a box of rare black amethysts, a box of pearls, a cask of pitted olives stuffed with maggots, a dozen casks of pickled cave fish, a great brass gong and a hammer to beat it with, seventeen ivory eyes, and a huge chest full of books written in tongues that Dany could not read. And more, and more, and more. Her people stacked it all before the slavers. (ASOS Daenerys II)

We don’t know if those are actually black amethysts or if it’s just a slang for the Strangler, but during the whole transaction, Kraznys is telling Denerys to sack the small cities and bring the captives back to be sold in Astapor, tempting her to participate more deeply in the slave trade.

Hizdahr is probably working with The Harpy to undermine Daenerys and bring slavery back to Meereen, guess what he’s wearing the first time he appears on page?

The nobleman had wings of wiry red-black hair sprouting from his temples. They made him look as if his head were about to take flight. His long face was made even longer by a beard bound with rings of gold. His purple tokar was fringed with amethysts and pearls. (ADWD Daenerys I)

And finally Xaro was wearing an amethyst nose ring when he threatened Daenerys after he failed to convince her to sail to Westeros and abandon Meereen to the slavers:

Tears welled from his eyes, creeping down his nose, past emeralds, amethysts, and black diamonds. "I told the Thirteen that you would heed my wisdom. It grieves me to learn that I was wrong. Take these ships and sail away, or you will surely die screaming. You cannot know how many enemies you have made." (ADWD Daenerys III)

The central symbolism of amethysts in Daenerys’ chapters seems to be about slavery. Being sold to Drogo like a slave, her family’s legacy of fire and blood that can be traced back to Valyria, buying slaves, Xaro and Hizdahr who are supporting slavery in a way or another.

[unicronian]

a bunch of powers/hybrid smp character design hcs based around their powers in the mod:

(small warning for slight body horror in tubbo and wilbur’s sections, and horror themes in wilbur’s section)

this got long so here’s a snapshot of my fav bits above the read more:

tubbo can open his stomach up like a shulker, and just reach in there and put stuff in and get it out again

wilbur’s physical appearance is dependent on how well rested the person looking at him is

tommy glides by t-posing because his arms are his wings

ranboo can open unhinge his jaw and open his mouth like an enderman, and he has like an extra layer of mouth skin like a snake that you can only see when his mouth is unhinged

Phil hates places with low ceilings cause his wings are super long and he can’t stretch them out

Niki’s got gills on her neck to help filter water, so when she wants to talk to people above water she has to stick just her head out of the water and leave her neck beneath it

You know su!peridot’s augments she had at her intro, jack can like do that with his clawed fingers. Just like detach them at will and control them but they can’t go very far from him so it isnt very useful

Shulk!Tubbo:

tubbo has pretty thick skin with a slightly sickly pallor even though he’s perfectly healthy

he also has a carapace that’s similar in color and texture to a shulker’s shell covering the parts of his body that don’t bend(arms, legs, top of his head, upper chest) he can use these to block sword blows but if the sword is sharp enough it’ll stick cut into his skin

the carapace itself doesnt bleed, but it does heal and tubbo feels pain if it gets cut

like a lobster or turtle the carapace is a part of tubbo’s skin and can’t be removed(without extreme pain)

his hands are also reinforced by his carapace, giving him sharp claws at the tips of his fingers, and this is why he can punch through stone easily and without breaking his hand

he’s also pretty heavy underneath this extra armor and as a result he’s got a lot of intense muscle mass

tubbo can open his stomach up like a shulker, and just reach in there and put stuff in and get it out again, but it has limited storage

it kind of makes his stomach look like a shulker, with interlocking squares

the stuff inside his stomach exists in a type of hammerspace(we’ll just call it shulkerspace) so if you were to cut him open the stuff wouldnt be there

you do NOT want to stick your hand into tubbo’s shulkerspace, he can do it with no ill effects but if someone else did they might as well wave goodbye to that hand even if tubbo doesnt close his shulker mouth on your hand

Phantom!Wilbur:

wilbur can do like... ghost things like turning invisible and walking through walls in phantom state

particularly astute(or anxious) people can sense when wilbur’s nearby in phantom state, but not accurately guess where he is

wilbur oftentimes goes in and out of phantom state without even realizing it, sometimes just vanishing in the middle of the conversation because he let his mind wander

he also burns in the daylight which is sadge but not when in phantom state so he sometimes goes into the phantom state on reflex when entering a very bright room

wilbur can sense how tired people are, and if they are tired enough to summon phantoms wilbur can sense whose insomnia the phantoms are targeting on sight

wilbur looks like how you’d expect a ghost to look: see through, human, or at least... that’s what he looks like when you wake up in the morning

his physical appearance is dependent on how well rested the person looking at him is, but he is always corporeal when out of the phantom state

by nighttime, when you’re getting ready for bed wilbur’s eyes are green and if you look closely they glow in the dark, and if you look closer a skeleton makes itself clear beneath wilbur’s skin. it is not a human skeleton

by morning the next day without sleep transparent membrane stretches between wilbur’s claws and you can clearly see the skeleton. fangs protrude from its mouth and its rib cage stretches grotesquely outwards with every breath wilbur takes

by the second night wilbur’s transparent skin is blue and phantom membrane has escaped the confines of his hand and run down the length of his arm, extra bones begin to grow from the skeleton to accommodate the growing wing. it is harder to see through him.

by dawn of the third morning you can see a tail, more bone than blue, leathery skin, lashing behind wilbur, it seems to always whip itself in your direction. it stings when it touches you, but not for long. his frayed wings are fully formed.

night falls and wilbur’s glowing green eyes are sunken in, practically floating in black eye sockets. his skin looks vacuum sealed, giving you a perfect map of the meatless bones inside. he is entirely opaque, you cannot see through him but his stark white skeleton, expanding, stretching, and clawing at you, is clearly visible

you sleep, and wilbur looks human once again

this version of wilbur doesn’t only exist in the minds of the sleep deprived. if you let him stay in the edges of your vision too long, no matter how rested you are, you can see this form

by the time you focus your vision on him wilbur will be back to his normal state. you can’t see what your brain desperately tries to refuse. it is only when your mental walls have been broken down that you can witness wilbur’s form. for better or for worse.

Avian!Tommy:

instead of having an extra set of limbs like phil tommy’s wings and arms are the same limbs, like a harpy(and like wilbur)

where the wing’s wrist is(essentially where it bends, if you’re unfamiliar with bird anatomy) Tommy has some extra human-like clawed fingers that he uses as hands

tommy isnt strong enough to fly with them, even if he is very light thanks to hollow bones. he can glide, though

yes, this does mean that tommy glides by t-posing

tommy also has talons for feet, which sort of assist him in being slightly faster than everyone

his feathers are the same colors as a red parrot’s, and he keeps them very well maintained so they keep their lustrous color

he’s also got a lot of feathers dotting his body, like around his ears and stomach and they protect him from the cold in the high up areas he likes sleeping in

ok i dont really have anything to say abt his veganism he’s just Like That because parrot(cause god knows chickens are omnivores)

he has a beak that he uses for nuts and seeds and he can make bird noises!

And he’s got a small feathery tail that isnt useful for much but does look cool

Even though he can’t fly Tommy does have a third eyelid like a bird, it goes side to side and is transparent, he mostly just uses it while gliding or swimming

Enderian!Ranboo

Very tall boy with very long arms

Honestly very similar to dsmp!ranboo

Water burns him like acid and leaves behind very distinctive burn scars but he heals pretty easily from water burns

He is Constantly bamboozled by people wearing pumpkins and he’s Not a fan

Ranboo can open unhinge his jaw and open his mouth like an enderman, and he has like an extra layer of mouth skin like a snake that you can only see when his mouth is unhinged

He’ll avoid eye contact at all cost because it agitates him and gets him unreasonably angry at whoever he’s talking to, the others have gotten very good at avoiding eye contact with him, though

Teleporting is a lot of fun to him and he’ll sometimes just teleport around just for the sake of it, because he can sense the change in location when teleporting in a way humans with ender pearls cant

Enderians are the results of people trying to fuse together with end-based magic and so all of them have the half and half texture of their skin, but most of them all have the same powers

Speaking of skin, Ranboo’s ender skin is strangely smooth and he doesn’t have a protruding nose, just slits in his face he smells through

He also doesn’t have any body hair at all, but his long ears generally distract from that

Elytrian!Phil

Phil is an incredibly light person, compared to a human he’d be dangerously underweight

He’s essentially skin, hollow bones, and elytra because if he was anything else he wouldn’t be able to fly especially with armor on

However this and his hollow bones means he’s pretty weak in all areas, especially underground

Thanks to his Brain he gets slow and weak under low ceilings and also sadge

Aside from the kind of unearthly tint to his skin Phil looks pretty human, aside from the elytra of course

He’s got insect wings protected by an elytra. So, elytra on beetles and things are kind of like a half circle protecting the wings and pressing them to the body of the beetle, and this works because beetles are wing shaped- phil is not

So, phil has very unique elytra that completely encase his wings, and the top part moves out of the way to let his wings fold out so they’re like twice his height- and that partially adds to his dislike of low ceilings, he can barely stretch his wings

Phil’s got fragile beetle wings so they look pretty fragile but they can withstand a beating and carry Phil a ways(though it’s partially phil’s innate magic that lets him shoot into the sky)

Phil has a transparent third eyelid just like Tommy

And, he has antennae that he uses to feel the wind while flying

Merling!Niki

Niki essentially has two types of skin: a human-looking thick layer of skin that covers the upper portion of her body and an even thicker scale-like layer that covers the lower half

Her human-like skin is very rough and it doesn’t absorb water like human skin does, the scales are smooth but also don’t absorb water

She has two legs and a long, thick tail she uses to propel herself through the water, the tail is entirely covered in her blue scales

Her hands and feet are webbed so when she swims she spreads her hands out to help push herself through the water

Niki also has decorative fins on various places on her body like her ears, legs, arms and stomach, they’re all blue and can’t be controlled in anyway

She’s got gills on her neck to help filter water, so when she wants to talk to people above water she has to stick just her head out of the water and leave her neck beneath it

Breathing in air and rain at the same time is extremely uncomfortable and leaves her constantly feeling short of breath but she considers it well worth it to walk on land for a period of time

She also has sharp teeth because: yes

She doesn’t have eyelids, though, her eyes are built like a fish’s

Blazeborn!Jack

Jack constantly gives off heat, he wont burn anyone but you’ll get very hot if you stand too close to him for too long

He has metallic blaze skin that glows like molten metal if he was recently on fire or in lava

You know su!peridot’s augments she had at her intro, jack can like do that with his clawed fingers. Just like detach them at will and control them but they can’t go very far from him so it isnt very useful

And, of course, he’s immune to poison and hunger because he’s basically an android, he’s like a gold material and metal cant get poisoned or hungry

Jack will, however, become fatigued if he’s away from intense heat like fire or lava for too long, like a week

He gets hurt in water because the water basically sucks the heat away from him and that actually hurts him

Staying in a cold biome too long would do the same thing if jack didnt go prepared with warm clothing and probably a flint and steel but tbf to jack humans also die in cold biomes if they’re unprepared

I’ve got nothing for fragranceman right now as i’m not sure if schlatt’s going to be on the server a lot

But i might make skins for these!

[nazyalenskyism]

Can’t Fall in Love Tonight

Description: A modern Zoyalai political AU. Nikolai is running for office and Zoya is has been his right-hand woman since University. Feelings are finally realized and Zoyalai banter. 

A/N: Just Zoya and Nikolai being Zoya and Nikolai. I hope you enjoy, as always any feedback would be lovely, and the first chapter is under the cut.

Ao3: Can’t Fall in Love Tonight 

updated: Here are the links to chapter 2 and the final chapter, chapter 3!

Ao3 :Chapter 2

Ao3: Chapter 3

        “That’s unacceptable and you know it, don’t you?”

        “Y-yes ma’am.”

        Zoya resisted the urge to roll her eyes, dear lord, each new batch of interns was worse than the last. They had no backbone whatsoever, and when did it become part of her job to help them develop one? “So, if you know the criteria for all reports submitted to me, why didn’t you check with your supervisor that it had been done correctly? Why would you bring it to me without being sure?”

        “I-- I’m so sorry Ms.Nazyalensky, it won’t happen again.”

        She nodded curtly, “see to it that it doesn’t. We run a big campaign, and we can’t afford to have little things like this slow down the cogs of the machine. Double check all the requirements next time, because if you don't, there won't be any more chances, nor will you ever find a job with any political campaign again.” The kid, Paul-- no--Patrick, stared at her, his mouth wobbling, trying to find a reply. She’d given him another chance, why was he still standing there, acting like she’d already fired him? She opened her mouth, about to tell him to run back to his station when she noticed glinting gold out of the corner of her eye. Fantastic. The gallant hero riding in to save the poor intern from the stormy harpy. She knew the names they called her, and she didn't care in the least. There was a reason she had her job, and that was because she was the best, not because she was the nicest.

        “What Nazyalenksy means to say is that we constantly have to be updated with new incoming information that the format that you learned on your first day was created to save as much time as possible while conveying the information easily. Each individual on the staff has a significant role to play, something that seems as trivial as a document’s format has a big impact on the entire campaign. Your job is as important as mine, Pavel.”

        A hand clapped down on the young man’s shoulder as he replied, “really?” in an awed voice, mouth agape. Zoya fought to keep her composure again, these interns were always ready to bow down in front of their boss as if he were a king and they were mere subjects. A few words from Nikolai, a charming smile thrown their way and they were basically genuflecting.

        “Well, that’s not entirely true, I suppose. I do have to stand around and look dashing, the most difficult of my daily tasks,” the man said good-naturedly. This was typical Nikolai, when he was in front of the lower level employees, he was a commanding and kind boss. When he was before his biggest donors, he was a charming young man, telling lively stories about his time in university, his world adventures, how he’d sailed around the world in two years, anything that would ensure their support. Pavel stood rooted to the spot, this was clearly the first encounter he’d had with the Nikolai Lantsov, and he looked like he was close to passing out.

        “Run along now, Peter, and remember what I said.” The boy hurried away, too scared to tell her she’d called him by the wrong name, turning his head back to catch one last glimpse at Nikolai, paling as Nikolai raised a hand waving goodbye.

        “His name was Pavel, and you didn’t have to instill the fear of Zoya into him for his mistake,” Nikolai said, turning his head towards her.

        Zoya shrugged a shoulder noncommittally, “now he’ll never make the same mistake again. Where are we finding these new recruits, I swear we weren’t this incompetent when we did this.”

        “You, incompetent? Those words don’t belong together in a sentence at all.”

        “What about, Zoya’s unparalled talents save her incompetent candidate, Nikolai Lantsov from defeat yet again?” At that, Zoya saw slight tension creep into Nikolai’s stance. She sighed, they really couldn’t go more than an hour without yet another issue springing up, could they?

        “Perhaps that isn’t the most fitting phrase,” Nikolai said, tone shifting from easy and relaxed to all business. “Let’s talk in my office.” As he led the way down the hall of their headquarters, Zoya saw people stick their heads out of doorways to catch a glimpse of the golden boy, eyes wide, mouths agape. Zoya didn’t miss the looks towards her as well. Regularly she was their hardass superior who tolerated nothing less than perfection, but whenever their staff saw her go into a room alone with Nikolai, they got ideas that only added to the small, but ridiculous rumors that they were ‘a thing.’ She couldn’t care less, her job was to be his campaign manager during election season, and Chief of Staff otherwise— and so nearly half of her time was spent with Nikolai, heads bent over desks, trying to solve whatever new problem they encountered. Long after everyone had wrapped for the day, they would still be at the office, or retreat to Nikolai’s lavish apartment to continue working. She always went home after these late-night sessions, and nothing remotely scandalous had ever happened between her and Nikolai, but the rumors didn’t seem to care about facts. They were close, they always had been. She wasn’t about to act differently because of a small rumor. Unless their actions would negatively impact Nikolai’s image, she didn’t care. Still, Zoya swept the hallway with a cool glare, she was still their superior, and they didn’t have time to waste watching a man walk down the hall.

        By the time Zoya reached the end of the hall, Nikolai was gallantly holding the door open for her, and quickly shut it behind her. She didn’t particularly care for his office, it felt like a watered down, more palatable version of his home office, which was much more eclectic, filled with his personal hard-won treasures, not just that which looked the most interesting and professional. But she supposed, if anyone understood the importance of presentation, it was her. Her blue silk blouse with its delicate silver pearl buttons was paired with a sleek black skirt, and her usual heels were polished to perfection, not unlike Nikolai’s shining black Oxfords. “So, what is it?”

        “Zoya. It’s... It’s…” He scrubbed a hand over his face, and she froze, she hadn’t seen him this phased about something in a long, long time. Whatever this was, it couldn’t be good.

        “Just spit it out Nikolai, whatever it is, we’ll deal with it.”

        “We have reason to believe that Demidov has a new Campaign Manager.”

        Zoya felt her brows draw together, “that can’t be the whole of it, who is it Lantsov?” Nikolai looked at her pointedly and Zoya understood immediately, “no. No. No. Way. In. Hell.” She felt pure hatred course through her veins. ‘Any other problem, we could deal with-- any other problem than this. Why did it have to be this?’ She drew in a deep breath. She had been preparing to face him again for years. Not just to face him, but to beat him at his own game, and she knew that she could. She had learned a lot, grown, and become a force to be reckoned with. She was ready to beat him, and this time, she would.

        “Right then, what do you want our next move to be?”

        Nikolai looked up at her, his brows furrowed, she was almost sure that he was going to ask her if she was alright, which was the last thing she needed to hear right now. Instead, he shook his head slightly, clearing his face of all concern before drawing out files from his desk drawer. “We have to figure out their strategy. But before that, we have to tell the team. Demidov is definitely bringing his new manager to the charity ball tonight which means we’re all going to have to play nice.”

        Zoya snorted, “you can play nice Nikolai, I’ll be doing just the opposite.”

        “Zoya,” he caught her wrist as she turned to stand. “All of us hate him, but we can’t do anything in public today. I promise that we will find a way to get rid of him forever, but we’re not going to do anything to jeopardize future plans today, is that clear?”

        Her chest heaved, it had taken everything in herself not to let go and scream when she’d realized who Nikolai was alluding to, but she didn’t know if she could manage to do this-- to go through a 6 hour fundraiser while ‘playing nice’ with the man who had ruined all their lives. But she had a job, and that was to carry them through this election, to have Nikolai’s back, to ensure that they did what they could for the people they promised to serve, and she would not let him be the reason she didn’t fulfill her duties. She pursed her lips, nodding at Nikolai, “I won’t do anything to mess things up, but I sure as hell won’t be playing ‘nice’.”

        “I would expect nothing less of you,” Nikolai said with a genuine smile, tugging gently at her wrist, “if I wanted someone who would ‘play nice’ I wouldn’t have started working with you eight years ago.”

        “You didn’t start working with me, Lantsov, I started working with you. Without my intervention, you would still be in local politics.”

        “Semantics dear Zoya. If I hadn’t approached you in the law library, we would have never met.”

        “That’s wrong and you know it. We would’ve met when I ran for the head of the student body and beat you for the presidency. I would’ve loved to see you defeated by me. It’s fine, I guess watching you lose board game night every Friday for the last eight years is good enough.” She sat down, her wrist still in Nikolai’s grasp.

        “I don’t lose every time,” Nikolai frowned childishly, and Zoya had to suppress a laugh, she knew he was trying to up her spirits before they had to relay the bad news to the others. “I always win the strategic games, like chess, but you unfairly banned them.”

        Zoya leaned in, cocking her head at him, “we can’t all be boring like you Lantsov. What’s the point of a game night if half the group falls asleep by 9 PM?”

        Nikolai leaned in as well, “it’s not my fault none of you are worthy competitors, if you--” he was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door, causing Zoya to pull away sharply, yanking her wrist from him. Nikolai shot her an unreadable look before inhaling deeply, “yes?”

        “Mister Lantsov, I have Ms. Safin, Mr. Kostyk, Mr. Yul-Bataar and Ms. Kir-Bataar here, like you asked.”

        Nikolai and Zoya shared a look, this was it then. “Let them in.”

                                                                        ---

        “Zoya, come on, we’re going to be late unless we leave right now,” Nikolai glanced at his watch, the charity event started in 40 minutes and with the traffic it would definitely take them at least half an hour to get there.

        “I’m coming!” Zoya’s voice drifted down from the upstairs floor of his apartment. Zoya lived in a cozy apartment in Hell’s Kitchen that she had shared with Genya and Tamar, but when Tamar had started getting serious with Nadia, she’d moved in with the girl and they’d gotten married shortly after. Now, Genya and David were newly engaged, which meant that David was always over, and so Zoya was spending more time at his place, because as she liked to say, “if I have to sit through one more dinner where it’s just the two of them goggling at each other the entire night, I’ll take out their eyes myself.” After they’d broken the news to the rest of their inner circle, Zoya had asked if she could get ready at his apartment, and when he’d said yes, had gone home immediately to grab her things. He knew she felt unreasonably guilty, that she felt like she’d betrayed her friends by allowing Demidov to hire him, even though she’d had no way to stop it from happening. He knew she didn’t want to have to face Genya alone immediately after they had told her, and he knew that was why she’d sought refuge in his apartment for a few hours before the party. He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t her fault, that she couldn’t change the past, only work with him to better things in the future, but these were things she already knew, and she relied on him to help her to move forward, not tell her what she already knew.

        Nikolai looked at his watch again, now they were actually about to be late, “Time to go! Where are you Zo—” Nikolai felt his breath skip. While he’d been distracted, Zoya had begun to descend the stairs, looking ethereal in a silky emerald green dress, her hair loose, tumbling in ink black waves over her shoulders. He felt a bit like a school boy, his breath quite literally knocked from his chest for a moment. Teardrop emeralds hung from her ears, and matching clips held back portions of her hair. He thought Zoya in her favoured blue had been difficult to resist, but Zoya in green was a sight to behold on its own. Had he not been practiced in restraining himself from her beauty, he was sure he would’ve trailed behind her the whole night like a forlorn puppy.

        “I’m ready, I’m ready!” She called, hurrying to the door to slip on her heels for the night. “Hold this,” she grumbled, smacking her clutch into his chest as she breezed by him.

        “Ouch, you know you could be more gent--”he broke off, nearly gaping. Backless. Her dress was backless. Nikolai looked up to the heavens, it seemed less and less likely that he was going to survive tonight. He shook his head, trying to clear it so he could focus on their task for the night, although he didn’t know how he was supposed to focus on anything else when his Chief of Staff was looking like that. He sighed audibly and Zoya’s head snapped towards him as they slipped out the door.

        “What, you’re not looking forward to tonight?”

        “No. I am.”

        “What is it then?”

        “I’m just thinking about how you’ve out-dressed me again. People are going to start thinking I have no sense of style if you keep upstaging me like his,” he replied, grinning at her.

        She rolled her eyes, “you’re not used to it yet, Lantsov? I’ve always been better dressed and better-looking. Maybe it’s time you up your game.”

        “Oh,” he clutched his chest in mock despair, “how you wound me.” Zoya snorted at him before flouncing towards the elevator. He stared after her, he definitely would never get used to this.

                                                                ---

        They’d sat through the initial speeches, the extravagant dinner with its ridiculously small portions and now the dance floor had opened up and yet, they’d yet to see Demidov or the newest addition to his staff. Nikolai had convinced Zoya to dance after she’d spent the better part of the evening making sure Genya was okay, and that Nikolai spoke to all the people they needed to secure as donors, and charmed everyone who came within 5 feet of him. Now, finally he’d been granted a short reprieve in the form of a dance with his favourite harpy.

        Zoya felt her pulse thrumming, her adrenaline had been high all night, and she just wanted the night to be over, the anticipation was tugging at her relentlessly. She’d agreed to a dance with Nikolai, and he looked especially the part of a prince tonight. She had to admit to that she’d had a moment of speechlessness when she’d seen him at the bottom of the stairs, the midnight black of his suit a stark contrast to his golden locks, and the gold tie pin and cufflinks he adorned highlighted the gold flecks in his hazel eyes. It was good that he looked handsome tonight, from a professional standpoint only, of course, people responded to beauty, they both knew that. She’d been around Nikolai, been his closest friend for long enough that she had made herself immune to his charms and looks. Still, she fought shivers when he placed her hand in his, the other sitting on the small of her back as he led her into a flawless waltz. As they began to gently sway to the soft string music, Zoya’s mind turned back to the issue at hand.

        “Do you see him?”

        “No. He’s probably waiting to make a dramatic entrance.”

        “Is that what you would do?”

        Nikolai hesitated, "I would never be in his position.”

        “You’re right. I just wish we knew what game he was playing. Or when he’d show up.” They passed a few moments in silence, both of them drawing closer together, content in the moment, until Nikolai saw a commotion out of the corner of his eye.

        “ I think your wish has been answered, Zoya dear.” Her head jolted upright just as the song ended. There, at the grand doors of the ballroom, was Demidov, looking the part as usual, and next to him stood a man dressed entirely in black.

        “Here we go,” Nikolai murmured. Zoya took his arm with one hand and grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing server’s tray in the other as they crossed the floor towards the men. Nikolai found David and Tolya’s eyes from across the room and gestured towards the ballroom door. They both nodded and Nikolai watched as they found Genya, Tamar and Nadia. Good, it was best that they all got out of here. Knowing the man, he would try to goad them with mentions of their friends, and Nikolai was not in the mood tonight.

        “Mr. Lantsov,” Demidov greeted them cheerfully, clasping Nikolai’s hand in a friendly handshake. “The always radiant Ms. Nazyalenksy,” he smiled, pressing his lips to her knuckles, not seeing the dangerous fire simmering behind her eyes. Only her true friends would ever be able to see how irritated she was by a man she deemed as, ‘having a backbone made of butterscotch pudding.’ He wasn’t fully aware what that meant, but Genya, Nadia and Tolya had agreed serenely when she’d first said it, so he supposed it must make sense.

        “Please, allow me to introduce you to my new campaign manager! This is--”

        “Aleks!” Nikolai exclaimed jovially, not missing the laugh in Zoya’s eyes. “My goodness, it’s been so long.”

        “You know each other?” Demidov said.

        “Oh yes, way back in my university days, but I’m sure you don’t want to hear that story, it’s far too long and features several ballads dedicated to my brilliance. It’s rather a production.”

        “I prefer to go by ‘The Darkling’,” Aleksander interjected coolly, inclining his head at Nikolai in acknowledgement, and resting his eyes on Zoya.

        “Oh,” Zoya started, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing any true emotion on her face. She brought a finger to her chin in mock-contemplation, though no one other than Nikolai and the Darkling would know it. “That’s a strange name, is it French?”

        “No, no. Zoya, I speak French, and whatever it is, it’s not French. Maybe it’s Russian?” Nikolai returned, looking thoughtful. Saints, he was a frighteningly good actor.

        She shrugged, “funny, I’m fluent and I've never heard that before.”

        “Is it not English, Aleksander?” Demidov questioned, clearly puzzled.

        The Darkling ignored them all. Instead he turned to Zoya, “Ms. Nazyalenksy, would you honour me with a dance?”

        “No.” Zoya enunciated clearly, looking directly at him. Nikolai laid a hand on her arm, a small reminder of their larger plan. His phone buzzed in his lapel pocket, and he glanced at it quickly, a message from Tamar, perfectly on time.

        “If you’ll excuse us, we have to take this,” Nikolai said holding up his phone, placing his hand on Zoya’s back, letting her know they were escaping this situation. Demidov nodded a goodbye as Zoya took a final sip from her glass.

        “It was so nice to meet you, Alexi!” she laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder, clearly dismissing him as if she were a queen and he were a mere peasant.

        “Goodnight, enjoy the festivities Aleks,” Nikolai added, nothing but a polite smile on his face as they turned and started towards a sheltered alcove in the corner of the room.

                                                              ---

        Zoya paced back and forth, “I hate everything about this— how could anyone even think to hire him after what he did?” Nikolai frowned, there was a note of desperation in her voice, very unlike Zoya. He knew the crimes of the man as well as the rest of his inner circle, they had all been directly impacted by him, but he knew that Zoya had never forgiven herself for being young, taken in by his seemingly perfect ideology and being unable to see the rot that lay beneath it all. Others who were older, and arguably wiser had been fooled just as easily as they all had, yet Zoya wouldn’t forgive herself, she held herself to a higher standard, he knew what that was like better than anyone else. The reason he’d told her before he’d broken the news to the rest of his staff was because of this, he knew that neither him nor Zoya would ever let that man inflict anymore hurt upon their friends.

        “He did a lot to bury his crimes, only a few people truly know what happened. The general public views them as allegations, not definitive crimes.”

        “Why? They’ve seen the evidence.” Zoya snapped, “they can see it every day.” He could see that she was a tightly wound coil after the news and that she needed a distraction.

        “Shall we share another dance?”

        “What?” she snapped, “Nikolai, I’m not in the mood.”

        “Whatever you say, Nazyalensky, but if you don’t dance with me, I’m 98% sure he’s going to ask you to dance next,” he said nodding towards Kirigin, one of many men who constantly trailed them at functions like this in an attempt to catch Zoya’s attention for a second.

        “Oh god, my options are you and Kirigin?” Zoya rubbed her temples, as much as she wanted to go home and finish a bottle of wine on her own, she knew they had to stay until the party was over. “Fine. Lead the way Lantsov, but I will be stepping on your toes.”

        “I would expect nothing less from you, my ruthless Zoya.”

[thedeviltohisangel]

And How Can I Try To Tell You//Michael Langdon Polyamorous AU

Michael Langdon is a gold medal winning skier in a relationship with two female doms who love to make him their snow bunny.

Smut warning: fxmxf threesome, pet play

masterlist in bio!

let me know if you guys want to see more of these three!

Zara watched with disgust from her position at the lodge’s bar as Michael fielded attention from everyone that was skiing that weekend. Men, women and children were all drawn to him like moths to a flame. Some wanted to bask in the presence of a gold medalist. Some wanted to gush how he had inspired them during this or that, that they wanted to be like him when they grew up. Then there were the ones trying to flirt with him. Letting their hands linger on his arms or leaning in when they giggled at a joke. Zara knew for a fact that Michael was not as funny as those bimbos led him to believe.

“You’re making the ice melt in your drink with how angry you’re getting.” She turned from glaring at the group to look as Josie who was wiping down the bar.

“Because you’re not using some extra elbow grease on the bar top right now?” To her credit, Josie didn’t even try to argue and just chuckled.

“You know he’s ours, Z. You know he never lets any of it go too far and is with us every night so why do you get so worked up about it?”

“Possessiveness,” she stated before downing the rest of her drink and sauntering over to the crowd of people, shouldering her way through until the man in question was right in front of her. “Hi, bunny.” It was her favorite nickname for Michael. He was her little snow bunny.

“Hi, pumpkin. Ladies, the woman behind the man, my girlfriend, Zara.” She made sure her smile was sickeningly sweet when she turned it on the group of harpies.

“Are you all here getting lessons from my Michael this weekend?” Her hand rest against his abdomen, rubbing his snowsuit-covered body as a way of showing that she could touch and they couldn’t.

“Something like that.” Their enthusiasm was gone from before she had walked over. Zara smiled. She got a sense of joy from poking pins into the balloons Michael’s charm inflated for strangers.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll see you ladies around. I have dinner reservations with two women that I must attend to. Enjoy your time here at Mount Sanctuary and remember to move in control!” Zara kept the sickly sweet smile onto her face as she gently guided her man away from them.

“Josie gets off in five minutes so let’s have a drink before dinner.” Michael, like a gentleman, pulled a seat out for her at the bar and kissed her as she got situated in it. He then leaned over to the bar to kiss his other girlfriend hello while she began to make their usual orders.

“I tried to stop her from going over there, bunny, I promise.”

“I believe you. But we know how she gets,” he hummed as the two laughed between themselves.

“I didn’t want a repeat of South Korea. It’s better I assert myself before it gets too far than have to use force when it already has.”

“Why, Z? We had the best sex of our lives with all that adrenaline running through you.” Josie could remember it vividly. On the rare occasion she was without Zara and Michael for the night, that was the memory she recalled to help her through.

“That’s true. I guess my jealousy does have benefits for all of us.”

“No need for my ZZ to ever be jealous. I’m all yours,” Michael murmured as he leaned over in his own seat to place a kiss onto her lips.

“And both of us are all yours,” Zara stated as she leaned over the bar to kiss Josie, Michael following suit. People often looked at them oddly for being in a polyamorous relationship but they didn’t quite care. It worked for them and they were so in love with each other that there was no possible way they could ever lead separate lives.

“I’m glad we are all committed and in love but I’m hungry,” Michael said as he watched the time changeover to the end of Josie’s shift.

“No one’s ever accused you of having tact,” Zara muttered as she stood and adjusted her skirt, kissing Josie on the cheek as she came around from behind the bar.

“Michael, it’s your turn to be in the middle.” He took his place with one girl each holding a hand and they strolled through the lodge with the confidence of those who owned it. Oh, wait. They did.

----

Zara moved her green beans around her plate with one hand while the other played with Michael’s fingers under the table.

“What kind of mood are you in tonight, Josie?” she asked. Josie thoughtfully chewed on her bite of lamb and looked as though she was studying Michael. Studying him to see how much he’d be able to take during their night of fun.

“He’s been a good bunny today. Maybe we can reward him with his tail.” That made Zara clap with glee.

“Oh, I love when he gets to wear his tail. And your curls look so beautiful with your ears too,” she cooed as her fingers laced through the curls in question.

“I just wanna be a good boy for you,” he whispered into her neck as he nuzzled his way there.

“You are a good boy,” Josie said as she reached over to tilt his face towards hers. “What do you say we take out dessert up to our room?”

----

The two women had each changed into their favorite lingerie sets. Black lace balconette bras. Lace bottoms that cupped their cheeks like they were made to, they were custom after all, and stockings clipped to the bottom. Zara had insisted on wearing her robe with hers, Josie and Michael both attracted to the sense of power the sheer fabric seemed to gift her. She watched appreciatively as Josie finished nestling the bunny ears on Michael’s head, the boy sitting dutifully on his knees and trying not to squirm at the feeling of the butt plug she had inserted only moments before.

“The most beautiful bunny in the whole world,” Zara cooed as she bent down to capture Michael’s lips with her own. He surged up towards her eagerly but kept his hands behind as back as he had been told. Michael knew that good boys got rewarded and bad boys got punished. Sometimes he was a bad boy on purpose but tonight he was focused on being good. Being the best bunny he could be.

“Look at his cock leaking already.” Josie beckoned for Michael to stand, which he did, the two women dropping their knees in front of him. “Can you handle two mouths at once without cumming, bunny?”

“Yes, mistress,” he whispered as he looked down at them in awe. The two women each took a side and licked or sucked at the sensitive skin of his leaking cock. They then took turns bobbing up and down the shaft while the other kissed and tickled underneath. When they heard his groans becoming more strangled, they pulled back.

“Good job, baby bunny. You’ve earned mistresses pussies.” Each women took her spot next to each other on the bed, kissing passionately as Michael settled between them. Zara got his tongue while Josie got his fingers. He had become an expert at pleasing the both of them at once. There had been a learning curve at the beginning but he was a quick learner. Always up for a challenge. And these women were always putting him up to a challenge. He was slightly jealous that they were moaning into each other’s mouths and not his but he knowing he was the one making them moan was more than enough for consolation.

“I’m so close,” Josie panted as she pulled away from Zara’s lips. Michael then took that as his queue to focus all his efforts fully on her, Zara petting his hair with one hand and tweaking Josie’s nipple with the other in a bed to help her over the edge.

“Our good little bunny,” Zara whispered as she kissed the arousal off of Michael’s face. “You wanna fuck me? I’ll let you cum if you fuck me good.” He nodded eagerly, standing up and helping her to the edge of the bed so he could line himself up perfectly. Josie lied down on her stomach with her mouth in line with Zara’s clit so she could lick the pearl while Michael fucked her. She drew in a deep breath as he filled her with his cock. “Fuck yes. Just like that.” He started slowly but picked up his pace once he found the right spot for his butt plug to rub up against as he moved his hips.

“So wet, ZZ, gonna squirt for us?” Josie teased as she pulled her head away for just one second.

“Yes,” she moaned, her mouth falling open with no sounds able to come out at the way the two people between her legs were working.

“Please Mistress,” Michael whined as he felt his own climax reaching a peak within him.

“Hold on just a bit longer, bunny. She’s almost there.” Josie flattened her fingers against Zara’s clit and rubbed like a genie would appear and offer her three wishes. Her fingers worked a different kind of magic and Zara came almost instantly, Josie nodding to Michael that he was allowed to follow suit. His hips stilled with one final thrust, spilling into her with a groan of pleasure and shaking muscles as he grew sensitive. “Good boy.” Josie knelt on the bed to kiss Michael before grabbing his hand and pulling him to rest on top of Zara.

“Your tongue and your cock are a lethal combination. I love it,” she spoke tiredly, her eyes closed and reveling in the pleasure her lovers had just gifted her. “I love you both.” She watched as Josie plucked the tail from between Michael’s cheeks, holding it over Zara’s mouth like a chocolate strawberry.

“Our bunny tastes so good.” Zara lapped at the toe eagerly as Michael snuggled himself under her chin.

“Good night, lovely.” Both women pecked him with kisses and promised him a big, warm bubble bath when he woke up. With his head resting on Zara’s chest and Josie spooned against his back, the three drifted into a peaceful and loving sleep.

Tag List:

@aveiangdon

@and-shes-not-even-pretty

@avesatanormalpeoplescareme

@langdonslove

[nikkari-aoe]

Slivers of a Whole

[50 Shun/Dennis 1-3 sentence au microfics]

It hits him hard, and not without a fair amount of absurdity- that despite everything, he still cares.

Dennis puts on an irritatingly genuine showstopper’s smile as he walks down the red carpet, waving amicably to his fans beyond the paparazzi while Shun scowls, eyes sharp behind his shades, just daring some crazed fan to leap the rope and tackle Dennis to the ground. Forget his bodyguard job- that would make his insufferable day amusing, at the very least.

Ruri watches them and knows, understands in a way that she doesn’t but somehow does- there is a history hidden there that she is not privy to, a story that told itself while she was a princess trapped in her tower. They dance around each other and she wants to ask what happened- but she can take enough of a guess. It’s not that hard a story to predict.  

It hits him hard, and not without a fair amount of absurdity- that despite everything, he still cares.

Dennis puts on an irritatingly genuine showstopper’s smile as he walks down the red carpet, waving amicably to his fans beyond the paparazzi while Shun scowls, eyes sharp behind his shades, just daring some crazed fan to leap the rope and tackle Dennis to the ground. Forget his bodyguard job- that would make his insufferable day amusing, at the very least.

Ruri watches them and knows, understands in a way that she doesn’t but somehow does- there is a history hidden there that she is not privy to, a story that told itself while she was a princess trapped in her tower. They dance around each other and she wants to ask what happened- but she can take enough of a guess. It’s not that hard a story to predict.  

“You know he’s going to betray us,” Yuuto reminds him none-too-gently, and Shun knows- but he thinks of the boy who trawls through the murky depths of Mementos with them, who fights bold and elegant beneath the frenetic casino lights, who sits quiet at the end of the cafe bar nursing a cup of expensive coffee- and he can’t help but wish.

“My sister is waiting,” Shun says, pulling away, voice rising from its hushed whisper, and Dennis glances fast at the door to their room, waiting for Leader to throw it open and chide them- but nothing comes, and Shun continues, knowing Dennis won’t refuse- “She’s waiting at the bottom of the Abyss. So are you coming with me, or not?”

When the psychic arrives, Dennis can sense their power, taste the steel and ozone at its edges- and finally, he thinks, an air of arrogance about him, a challenge. What he doesn’t expect is to be drawn into their summoning circle and feel the ghostly spell he’d been preparing fall to pieces at the sight of a familiar face from a mortal lifetime centuries ago staring back at him.

Shun likes to think that he’d believe a lot of things, given the chance- but that this... this featherless kid that just fell of his roof is a god?  That’s not one of them.

Dennis grins, holds out a hand; Shun takes it and climbs into the cockpit behind him- as if it was ever a question that they’d end up here.

Trust your partner- it’s the rule of the Underground, the key to keeping your wits and keeping from getting erased. And trusting Yuzu, that girl who reminds him so of Ruri, that was easy enough- but Dennis, who can’t seem to give him a straight answer but for the grin plastered fake across his face... Dennis is a different story.

And this Dennis- this Dennis who’s withdrawn into the dark of his room, without a single kind word or outrageous plan to keep their group’s carefree everyday missions alive- Shun pounds his fist against his door, and thinks that he doesn’t know this Dennis at all.

“I’m glad,” he says at the end of it all, the very second before they lose it all to the black of the crawling chaos, “that I met you.”

Shun hears his voice for the first time on the radio, performing a story whose name he doesn’t know and whose conclusion he’s hardly interested in- but he listens all the way to the end, eyes closed and caught up in the sheer emotion of the storyteller’s performance until long after the story’s ended and the channel’s faded into the soft static of the next program.

My grandfather died for yours. It’s an odd sentence to be able to say- but as Shun looks the newcomer over, all false bravado and garish pride, he can’t resist the urge to add, if only in his mind- but I’m not dying for you any time soon.

Dennis has no intention of staying long in the streets of hell. He only came for a brief errand, really, he thinks, the pearls of the underworld wrapped around his wrists- so it’s rather unfortunate that the demon staring him down with eyes black as his wings seems to have no intention of letting him leave.

“Where are we going?” Dennis asks, and beside him, Shun just shrugs and starts the engine. Anywhere, then, he surmises. He can work with that.

Feelings are beautiful, fractured things, cracking along strange edges and fitted together a mosaic across hearts fickle and strange. Dennis watches one in particular, sees the anger and protective love that run across it flames of blue and red, and wonders what it would be like to fall.

When they were kids, they both dreamed of it- the elusive dream world beyond the cage’s gates. As children they planned and plotted and drew their dreams across diagrams spread across the dirty warehouse floor until the day that two became one and the children no longer so young. Watch me, Shun dares, and soars beyond the bars of that cage masquerading as a city, leaving Dennis staring in his wake.

He weaves the trap so elegantly- all wine glasses and card games and poison laced around the edges of it all. He doesn’t expect for Shun to fall into it too- but by the time he realizes it, the guilty party guests have already drunk their fill.

“Kiss me?” Dennis asks, and Shun hates to consider himself indulgent, but…

“Shun and Dennis?” the newcomers ask her, some mixture of surprised and affronted, “They hardly even get along.” Ruri just shakes her head at all of them, and tells them that they’ll see once the tournament begins.

Is he being conned? He’s pretty sure he’s being conned right now, but this conman is so earnestly charming Shun might have to suspend his disbelief in psychic powers- but just the length of an hour’s consultation.

“I can’t believe you two,” Ruri scolds while Yuuto looks on, chiding but amused, “Sneaking around the Overseers like like that is far too dangerous for a little bit of petty thievery like- oh.”

You haven’t seen Shun in years, he thinks in an echo of Yuuya’s voice, what could possibly go wrong? A lot of things, he thinks back aggressively, a whole lot of things.

Shun blinks down at the register, then back at the human approximation of the aftermath of a natural disaster standing on the other side of the counter. Did this kid seriously just order six shots of espresso in his latte? Sure, it’s finals week, but Shun would rather not be responsible for someone's death this particular morning.

Dennis responds to Shun’s slow, “Are you okay?” with a dramatic slump onto his pillows and an overly-enunciated, “I’m very clearly dying here, Kurosaki, so I hope you brought me consolation soup.”

The exact same book. Dennis absently turns a page without reading a word and sneaks another glance at the boy across the cafe- for the third time in as many weeks, they’re reading the same book.

Dennis resists the urge to snap his DS in half. He doesn’t know who ‘blackfalcon’ is or how they can effortlessly blow through all of Dennis’ increasingly more elaborate team compositions- but mark his words, next time he will be victorious.

Shun doesn’t pay too much attention to what Dennis had insisted on drawing on his cast- so when he looks down to see a surprisingly detailed cartoon eagle staring up at him next to Ruri’s tiny harpies, the smile that tugs at his lips is soft and genuine.

All he has left is a card. He turns it over between his fingers, watches Shun’s proud expression catch the light. Dennis frowns, and wonders if there’s supposed to be any satisfaction in this at all.

Dennis sighs; his fans can pick him out of a blurry crowd shot with his hair dyed, shades on, and hoodie pulled over far to shadow his face- and yet they’re collectively useless in trying to find the boy he’d danced with at the masquerade whose mask had barely covered his face.

Shun has never summoned a more useless weapon in his life. It’s not that the new sword is incompetent- no, his skills in battle earn him the position of first team leader within a month- rather, it’s that this new wakizashi is a show-off, a snark, and a shameless flirt. He turns the other way down the citadel halls- his citadel halls- when he sees Dennis approach, thinking all the while- absolutely useless.

“It’s beautiful,” Ruri says, and Dennis can only agree, no matter how much of a narcissist that makes him. He loves it, and wonders if the living painting given life through the last shards of his magic feels the same.

Dennis doesn’t deserve to be King, not after everything that he stole. Shun revs his D-wheel’s engine, watching the timer count down to zero before shooting into the tunnel, Security hot on his heels. He doesn’t let that stop him- he’s going to take everything back, and snatch the crown from atop that traitor’s head.

Dennis is the seventh. Shun is sure of it- sure that of all the gathered Braves, Dennis is the fake, the one colluding with the demons. Now, all he needs is incentive for the unmasking.

“I missed you,” Dennis breathes into his shoulder, his bags slumped forgotten on the floor at their feet. Shun hums his agreement into the top of Dennis’ head. For these feelings of reunion he doesn’t have the words.

“I’ll stay,” he says, hoping it won’t turn into a lie.

Collectively they insist on leaving the ferris wheel for last; they wait the extra fifteen minutes for one of the entirely clear-sided gondolas. He sits with Shun at his side, Yuuto and Ruri across, and they clamor and clamber over each other for the best shots of the city lights glinting below. Dennis sinks against Shun and thinks, a little dangerously, that he could get used to this.

Never in his life has Shun tasted chocolate quite this good. When Ruri and Sayaka had come home chattering one afternoon about the new bakery on the corner, he had scoffed at their high praises, but now he’s become the most regular of the regulars. The patissier who sneaks him extra pastries with a smile and a wink, Shun insists, isn’t a factor.

The patchwork chimera of a magical beast that slinks into his kitchen one day isn’t one that Shun would have ever deemed likely to survive its creation, let alone hang on to a human-like semblance of consciousness. And yet it clutches at its wounded shoulder with beastly claws and, smiling, calmly asks if Shun could spare a bowl of rice.

To the bottom of the ocean the calling card beckons him, to the place where starlight drowns and the magician who sealed his sister away sits waiting in the hazy luminescence of submerged cavern walls. Shun shifts his wings, dreading the spray of the salt against his feathers, then plunges in behind the messenger. Shun squints his eyes against the sting of the water and forces himself against instinct to swim down- down towards the depths, down towards his revenge.

There has to be meaning to it. The reason their world spins and spins the same twenty-four hours over again like a track stuck on loop, an endless melody of blood and fear and saving and sacrifice in turn. He wants to ask, do you remember?  every morning that they meet- but instead, today again he waves a quiet hello with a smile that doesn’t manage to reach his eyes, anymore.

Do you trust me, Dennis asks, and Shun wants to say that he doesn’t- but there’s no choice, no time. “Yes,” he hisses out, and Dennis lets go.

Shun races up the stairs as the sirens blare through the mansion, not sparing the breath to curse, not when the the billow of that cloak, that smirk beneath golden mask is right there, disappearing into the first door on the third-floor landing. Got you, Shun thinks victoriously, and throws the doors open wide only to see the phantom thief perched atop the balcony railing, silhouetted by the moon, ruby necklace in hand. Shun doesn’t have to be able to see him to see the mocking smile on his face as he tips his hat, then falls into the open air- another perfect crime.

The angel that falls into the garden is wounded and faint, clinging to consciousness through only the hatred that burns in his eyes. Don’t touch me, he snarls, don’t look, human. So Dennis does neither- simply sits with his back to the angel, biding out the other’s pride.

“Okay,” Dennis says, turning on him with a glint in his eye that Shun knows means nothing but trouble, “So if Ruri can’t be my fake date to the theatre gala, what about you?”

Shun seethes down at the color guard as they start their extra practice- or rather, down at Dennis as he spins beneath a flag toss. Ruri’s assured him a thousand times over that Dennis hadn’t meant to break her trumpet, and at one point Shun could believe it- but both of their trumpets? Shun wishes for a gust of wind to drop the pole straight down on Dennis’ head; unfortunately, he’s not quite so lucky and Dennis catches it with a flourish, just to spite him.

“This movie is awful,” Dennis says and shuffles on the couch to take an unseemly large handful of popcorn. Shun resists the urge to point out Dennis is the one who picked it in the first place.

When he comes home, there’s a letter waiting for him amongst the mail, envelope plain and indistinct. The paper inside is simple, left unsigned; all it says is simply, I’m sorry. He wonders if it doesn’t come too late.

Dennis clips mint green cat ears into Shun’s hair; Shun retaliates by shoving a bear-eared headband into his curls. Dennis just drags Shun to the register and attempts to pay while the ears are still on their heads. He grins- their date turned attempt at getting kicked out of Disney Sea is starting out swimmingly.

Shun looks the new pilot over a few times from afar- he’s seen the kid’s sim scores with the new model, and they’re good, but not impressive, and certainly nothing compared to his own. After a while the newcomer saunters over, winks as he passes. “Don’t worry,” he says, his first words a challenge, “I’ll be taking control of the new frame from you before long.”

[nazyalenskyism]

Can’t Fall in Love Tonight

A/N: A modern Zoyalai AU, Nikolai is a politician and Zoya is his manager.

Ao3 Link: Can’t Fall in Love Tonight

You can find Chapter One of ‘Can’t Fall in Love Tonight’ under the cut, enjoy! Any feedback is greatly appreciated!

       “That’s unacceptable and you know it, don��t you?”

       “Y-yes ma’am.”

       Zoya resisted the urge to roll her eyes, dear lord, each new batch of interns was worse than the last. They had no backbone whatsoever, and when did it become part of her job to help them develop one? “So, if you know the criteria for all reports submitted to me, why didn’t you check with your supervisor that it had been done correctly? Why would you bring it to me without being sure?”

       “I-- I’m so sorry Ms.Nazyalensky, it won’t happen again.”

       She nodded curtly, “see to it that it doesn’t. We run a big campaign, and we can’t afford to have little things like this slow down the cogs of the machine. Double check all the requirements next time, because if you don't, there won't be any more chances, nor will you ever find a job with any political campaign again.” The kid, Paul-- no--Patrick, stared at her, his mouth wobbling, trying to find a reply. She’d given him another chance, why was he still standing there, acting like she’d already fired him? She opened her mouth, about to tell him to run back to his station when she noticed glinting gold out of the corner of her eye. Fantastic. The gallant hero riding in to save the poor intern from the stormy harpy. She knew the names they called her, and she didn't care in the least. There was a reason she had her job, and that was because she was the best, not because she was the nicest.

       “What Nazyalenksy means to say is that we constantly have to be updated with new incoming information that the format that you learned on your first day was created to save as much time as possible while conveying the information easily. Each individual on the staff has a significant role to play, something that seems as trivial as a document’s format has a big impact on the entire campaign. Your job is as important as mine, Pavel.”

       A hand clapped down on the young man’s shoulder as he replied, “really?” in an awed voice, mouth agape. Zoya fought to keep her composure again, these interns were always ready to bow down in front of their boss as if he were a king and they were mere subjects. A few words from Nikolai, a charming smile thrown their way and they were basically genuflecting.

       “Well, that’s not entirely true, I suppose. I do have to stand around and look dashing, the most difficult of my daily tasks,” the man said good-naturedly. This was typical Nikolai,  when he was in front of the lower level employees, he was a commanding and kind boss. When he was before his biggest donors, he was a charming young man, telling lively stories about his time in university, his world adventures, how he’d sailed around the world in two years, anything that would ensure their support. Pavel stood rooted to the spot, this was clearly the first encounter he’d had with the Nikolai Lantsov, and he looked like he was close to passing out.

       “Run along now, Peter, and remember what I said.” The boy hurried away, too scared to tell her she’d called him by the wrong name, turning his head back to catch one last glimpse at Nikolai, paling as Nikolai raised a hand waving goodbye.

       “His name was Pavel, and you didn’t have to instill the fear of Zoya into him for his mistake,” Nikolai said, turning his head towards her.

       Zoya shrugged a shoulder noncommittally, “now he’ll never make the same mistake again. Where are we finding these new recruits, I swear we weren’t this incompetent when we did this.”

       “You, incompetent? Those words don’t belong together in a sentence at all.”

       “What about, Zoya’s unparalled talents save her incompetent candidate, Nikolai Lantsov from defeat yet again?” At that, Zoya saw slight tension creep into Nikolai’s stance. She sighed, they really couldn’t go more than an hour without yet another issue springing up, could they?

       “Perhaps that isn’t the most fitting phrase,” Nikolai said, tone shifting from easy and relaxed to all business. “Let’s talk in my office.” As he led the way down the hall of their headquarters, Zoya saw people stick their heads out of doorways to catch a glimpse of the golden boy, eyes wide, mouths agape. Zoya didn’t miss the looks towards her as well. Regularly she was their hard-ass superior who tolerated nothing less than perfection, but whenever their staff saw her go into a room alone with Nikolai, they got ideas that only added to the small, but ridiculous rumours that they were ‘a thing.’ She couldn’t care less, her job was to be his campaign manager during election season, and Chief of Staff otherwise— and so nearly half of her time was spent with Nikolai, heads bent over desks, trying to solve whatever new problem they encountered. Long after everyone had wrapped for the day, they would still be at the office, or retreat to Nikolai’s lavish apartment to continue working. She always went home after these late-night sessions, and nothing remotely scandalous had ever happened between her and Nikolai, but the rumors didn’t seem to care about facts. They were close, they always had been. She wasn’t about to act differently because of a small rumour. Unless their actions would negatively impact Nikolai’s image, she didn’t care. Still, Zoya swept the hallway with a cool glare, she was still their superior, and they didn’t have time to waste watching a man walk down the hall.

       By the time Zoya reached the end of the hall, Nikolai was gallantly holding the door open for her, and quickly shut it behind her. She didn’t particularly care for his office, it felt like a watered down, more palatable version of his home office, which was much more eclectic, filled with his personal hard-won treasures, not just that which looked the most interesting and professional. But she supposed, if anyone understood the importance of presentation, it was her. Her blue silk blouse with its delicate silver pearl buttons was paired with a sleek black skirt, and her usual heels were polished to perfection, not unlike Nikolai’s shining black Oxfords. “So, what is it?”

       “Zoya. It’s... It’s…” He scrubbed a hand over his face, and she froze, she hadn’t seen him this phased about something in a long, long time. Whatever this was, it couldn’t be good.

       “Just spit it out Nikolai, whatever it is, we’ll deal with it.”

       “We have reason to believe that Demidov has a new Campaign Manager.”

       Zoya felt her brows draw together, “that can’t be the whole of it, who is it Lantsov?” Nikolai looked at her pointedly and Zoya understood immediately, “no. No. No. Way. In. Hell.” She felt pure hatred course through her veins. ‘Any other problem, we could deal with-- any other problem than this. Why did it have to be this?’  She drew in a deep breath. She had been preparing to face him again for years. Not just to face him, but to beat him at his own game, and she knew that she could. She had learned a lot, grown, and become a force to be reckoned with. She was ready to beat him, and this time, she would.

       “Right then, what do you want our next move to be?”

       Nikolai looked up at her, his brows furrowed, she was almost sure that he was going to ask her if she was alright, which was the last thing she needed to hear right now. Instead, he shook his head slightly, clearing his face of all concern before drawing out files from his desk drawer. “We have to figure out their strategy. But before that, we have to tell the team. Demidov is definitely bringing his new manager to the charity ball tonight which means we’re all going to have to play nice.”

       Zoya snorted, “you can play nice Nikolai, I’ll be doing just the opposite.”

       “Zoya,” he caught her wrist as she turned to stand. “All of us hate him, but we can’t do anything in public today. I promise that we will find a way to get rid of him forever, but we’re not going to do anything to jeopardize future plans today, is that clear?”

       Her chest heaved, it had taken everything in herself not to let go and scream when she’d realized who Nikolai was alluding to, but she didn’t know if she could manage to do this-- to go through a 6 hour fundraiser while ‘playing nice’ with the man who had ruined all their lives. But she had a job, and that was to carry them through this election, to have Nikolai’s back, to ensure that they did what they could for the people they promised to serve, and she would not let him be the reason she didn’t fulfill her duties. She pursed her lips, nodding at Nikolai, “I won’t do anything to mess things up, but I sure as hell won’t be playing ‘nice’.”

       “I would expect nothing less of you,” Nikolai said with a genuine smile, tugging gently at her wrist, “if I wanted someone who would ‘play nice’ I wouldn’t have started working with you eight years ago.”

       “You didn’t start working with me, Lantsov, I started working with you. Without my intervention, you would still be in local politics.”

       “Semantics dear Zoya. If I hadn’t approached you in the law library, we would have never met.”

       “That’s wrong and you know it. We would’ve met when I ran for the head of the student body and beat you for the presidency. I would’ve loved to see you defeated by me. It’s fine, I guess watching you lose board game night every Friday for the last eight years is good enough.” She sat down, her wrist still in Nikolai’s grasp.

       “I don’t lose every time,” Nikolai frowned childishly, and Zoya had to suppress a laugh, she knew he was trying to up her spirits before they had to relay the bad news to the others. “I always win the strategic games, like chess but you unfairly banned them.”

       Zoya leaned in, cocking her head at him, “we can’t all be boring like you Lantsov. What’s the point of a game night if half the group falls asleep by 9 PM?”

       Nikolai leaned in as well, “it’s not my fault none of you are worthy competitors, if you--” he was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door, causing Zoya to pull away sharply, yanking her wrist from him. Nikolai shot her an unreadable look before inhaling deeply, “yes?”

       “Mister Lantsov, I have Ms. Safin, Mr. Kostyk, Mr. Yul-Bataar and Ms. Kir-Bataar here, like you asked.”

       Nikolai and Zoya shared a look, this was it then. “Let them in.”

                                               ***

       “Zoya, come on, we’re going to be late unless we leave right now,” Nikolai glanced at his watch, the charity event started in 40 minutes and with the traffic it would definitely take them at least half an hour to get there.

       “I’m coming!” Zoya’s voice drifted down from the upstairs floor of his apartment. Zoya lived in a cozy apartment in Hell’s Kitchen that she had shared with Genya and Tamar, but when Tamar had started getting serious with Nadia, she’d moved in with the girl and they’d gotten married shortly after. Now, Genya and David were newly engaged, which meant that David was always over, and so Zoya was spending more time at his place, because as she liked to say, “if I have to sit through one more dinner where it’s just the two of them goggling at each other the entire night, I’ll take out their eyes myself.” After they’d broken the news to the rest of their inner circle, Zoya had asked if she could get ready at his apartment, and when he’d said yes, had gone home immediately to grab her things. He knew she felt unreasonably guilty, that she felt like she’d betrayed her friends by allowing Demidov to hire him, even though she’d had no way to stop it from happening. He knew she didn’t want to have to face Genya alone immediately after they had told her, and he knew that was why she’d sought refuge in his apartment for a few hours before the party. He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t her fault, that she couldn’t change the past, only work with him to better things in the future, but these were things she already knew, and she relied on him to help her to move forward, not tell her what she already knew.

       Nikolai looked at his watch again, now they were actually about to be late, “Time to go! Where are you Zo—” Nikolai felt his breath skip. While he’d been distracted, Zoya had begun to descend the stairs, looking ethereal in a silky emerald green dress, her hair loose, tumbling in ink black waves over her shoulders. He felt a bit like a school boy, his breath quite literally knocked from his chest for a moment. Teardrop emeralds hung from her ears, and matching clips held back portions of her hair. He thought Zoya in her favoured blue had been difficult to resist, but Zoya in green was a sight to behold on its own. Had he not been practiced in restraining himself from her beauty, he was sure he would’ve trailed behind her the whole night like a forlorn puppy.        “I’m ready, I’m ready!” She called, hurrying to the door to slip on her heels for the night. “Hold this,” she grumbled, smacking her clutch into his chest as she breezed by him.

       “Ouch, you know you could be more gent--”he broke off, nearly gaping. Backless. Her dress was backless. Nikolai looked up to the heavens, it seemed less and less likely that he was going to survive tonight. He shook his head, trying to clear it so he could focus on their task for the night, although he didn’t know how he was supposed to focus on anything else when his Chief of Staff was looking like that. He sighed audibly and Zoya’s head snapped towards him as they slipped out the door.

       “What, you’re not looking forward to tonight?”

       “No. I am.”

       “What is it then?”

       “I’m just thinking about how you’ve out-dressed me again. People are going to start thinking I have no sense of style if you keep upstaging me like his,” he replied, grinning at her.

       She rolled her eyes, “you’re not used to it yet, Lantsov? I’ve always been better dressed and better-looking. Maybe it’s time you up your game.”

       “Oh,” he clutched his chest in mock despair, “how you wound me.” Zoya snorted at him before flouncing towards the elevator. He stared after her, he definitely would never get used to this.

                                                            ***

       They’d sat through the initial speeches, the extravagant dinner with its ridiculously small portions and now the dance floor had opened up and yet, they’d yet to see Demidov or the newest addition to his staff. Nikolai had convinced Zoya to dance after she’d spent the better part of the evening making sure Genya was okay, and that Nikolai spoke to all the people they needed to secure as donors, and charmed everyone who came within 5 feet of him. Now, finally he’d been granted a short reprieve in the form of a dance with his favourite harpy.

       Zoya felt her pulse thrumming, her adrenaline had been high all night, and she just wanted the night to be over, the anticipation was tugging at her relentlessly. She’d agreed to a dance with Nikolai, and he looked especially the part of a prince tonight. She had to admit to that she’d had a moment of speechlessness when she’d seen him at the bottom of the stairs, the midnight black of his suit a stark contrast to his golden locks, and the gold tie pin and cufflinks he adorned highlighted the gold flecks in his hazel eyes. It was good that he looked handsome tonight, from a professional standpoint only, of course, people responded to beauty, they both knew that. She’d been around Nikolai, been his closest friend for long enough that she had made herself immune to his charms and looks. Still, she fought shivers when he placed her hand in his, the other sitting on the small of her back as he led her into a flawless waltz. As they began to gently sway to the soft string music, Zoya’s mind turned back to the issue at hand.

       “Do you see him?”

       “No. He’s probably waiting to make a dramatic entrance.”

       “Is that what you would do?”

       Nikolai hesitated,“I would never be in his position.”

       “You’re right. I just wish we knew what game he was playing. Or when he’d show up.” They passed a few moments in silence, both of them drawing closer together, content in the moment, until Nikolai saw a commotion out of the corner of his eye.

       “I think your wish has been answered, Zoya dear.” Her head jolted upright just as the song ended. There, at the grand doors of the ballroom, was Demidov, looking the part as usual, and next to him stood a man dressed entirely in black.

       “Here we go,” Nikolai murmured. Zoya took his arm with one hand and grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing server’s tray in the other as they crossed the floor towards the men. Nikolai found David and Tolya’s eyes from across the room and gestured towards the ballroom door. They both nodded and Nikolai watched as they found Genya, Tamar and Nadia. Good, it was best that they all got out of here. Knowing the man, he would try to goad them with mentions of their friends, and Nikolai was not in the mood tonight.

       “Mr. Lantsov,” Demidov greeted them cheerfully, clasping Nikolai’s hand in a friendly handshake. “The always radiant Ms. Nazyalenksy,” he smiled, pressing his lips to her knuckles, not seeing the dangerous fire simmering behind her eyes. Only her true friends would ever be able to see how irritated she was by a man she deemed as, ‘having a backbone made of butterscotch pudding.’ He wasn’t fully aware what that meant, but Genya, Nadia and Tolya had agreed serenely when she’d first said it, so he supposed it must make sense.

       “Please, allow me to introduce you to my new campaign manager! This is--”

       “Aleks!” Nikolai exclaimed jovially, not missing the laugh in Zoya’s eyes. “My goodness, it’s been so long.”

       “You know each other?” Demidov said.

       “Oh yes, way back in my university days, but I’m sure you don’t want to hear that story, it’s far too long and features several ballads dedicated to my brilliance. It’s rather a production.”

       “I prefer to go by ‘The Darkling’,” Aleksander interjected coolly, inclining his head at Nikolai in acknowledgement, and resting his eyes on Zoya.

       “Oh,” Zoya started, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing any true emotion on her face. She brought a finger to her chin in mock-contemplation, though no one other than Nikolai and the Darkling would know it. “That’s a strange name, is it French?”

       “No, no. Zoya, I speak French, and whatever it is, it’s not French. Maybe it’s Russian?” Nikolai returned, looking thoughtful. Saints, he was a frighteningly good actor.

       She shrugged, “funny, I’m fluent and I've never heard that before.”

       “Is it not English, Aleksander?” Demidov questioned, clearly puzzled.

       The Darkling ignored them all. Instead he turned to Zoya, “Ms. Nazyalenksy, would you honour me with a dance?”

       “No.” Zoya enunciated clearly, looking directly at him. Nikolai laid a hand on her arm, a small reminder of their larger plan. His phone buzzed in his lapel pocket, and he glanced at it quickly, a message from Tamar, perfectly on time.

       “If you’ll excuse us, we have to take this,” Nikolai said holding up his phone, placing his hand on Zoya’s back, letting her know they were escaping this situation. Demidov nodded a goodbye as Zoya took a final sip from her glass.

       “It was so nice to meet you, Alexi!” she laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder, clearly dismissing him as if she were a queen and he were a mere peasant.

       “Goodnight, enjoy the festivities Aleks,” Nikolai added, nothing but a polite smile on his face as they turned and started towards a sheltered alcove in the corner of the room.

                                                             ***

       Zoya paced back and forth, “I hate everything about this— how could anyone even think to hire him after what he did?” Nikolai frowned, there was a note of desperation in her voice, very unlike Zoya. He knew the crimes of the man as well as the rest of his inner circle, they had all been directly impacted by him, but he knew that Zoya had never forgiven herself for being young, taken in by his seemingly perfect ideology and being unable to see the rot that lay beneath it all. Others who were older, and arguably wiser had been fooled just as easily as they all had, yet Zoya wouldn’t forgive herself, she held herself to a higher standard, he knew what that was like better than anyone else. The reason he’d told her before he’d broken the news to the rest of his staff was because of this, he knew that neither him nor Zoya would ever let that man inflict anymore hurt upon their friends.

       “He did a lot to bury his crimes, only a few people truly know what happened. The general public views them as allegations, not definitive crimes.”

       “Why? They’ve seen the evidence.” Zoya snapped, “they can see it every day.” He could see that she was a tightly wound coil after the news and that she needed a distraction.

       “Shall we share another dance?”

       “What?” she snapped, “Nikolai, I’m not in the mood.”

       “Whatever you say, Nazyalensky, but if you don’t dance with me, I’m 98% sure he’s going to ask you to dance next,” he said nodding towards Kirigin, one of many men who constantly trailed them at functions like this in an attempt to catch Zoya’s attention for a second.

       “Oh god, my options are you and Kirigin?” Zoya rubbed her temples, as much as she wanted to go home and finish a bottle of wine on her own, she knew they had to stay until the party was over. “Fine. Lead the way Lantsov, but I will be stepping on your toes.”

       “I would expect nothing less from you, my ruthless Zoya.”