#the anime version moving them up to the second floor looking over the railing is even worse…..

[paunchsalazar]

this ruined my life I’m not kidding

[aprilisque]

do you want it I hueningkai

Pairing: Stranger! Hueningkai x You

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Warnings: drinking, dirty talk, choking, thigh grinding, kai and y/n keep teasing each-other to the limits, implied sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, folks!), mostly unedited.

Word Count: 3.3k words

Summary: you meet hueningkai at a party. the attraction between the two of you is undeniable and things slowly start to escalate into the night, a game of teasing which neither of you is willing to lose.

Recommended Songs: mi casa su casa (omar rudberg), tinnitus demo (ebby), party monster tiktok version (the weekend).

your heels clink against the marbled floor, following an even rhythm as you roll your shoulders back and keep your head high. it had been awhile since you'd been to a party and when the hotel you were staying it offered it as an event a few days ago, you were more than eager to participate. good music and alcohol? you were sold. your friends were sold too. you could see them seated on the bar, cocktails in hand as they giggle with one-another.

"hey," you greet, leaning on the counter next to them.

"you're late." yeji remarks, her cat like eyes taking in your appearance. after turning your closet upside down, you'd settled on a bodycon midi dress. the silky material is soft on the skin, hugging your figure just right, the shade of blue complimenting your undertones well. you look absolutely stunning and you know it, cocky smile threatening to tug at your lips as you wait for yeji to say something. but she looks just as good herself with her black mini dress and curled red locks.

before yeji can say anything, kazuha peers over at you from behind her, the red two piece dress striking against the color of her dark hair. "but she's always late. fashionably late."

you grin in response, satisfied to hear that they liked your outfit. "thank you, ladies. you both look stunning as well." eyes wandering to the cocktails on their hands, you nod at them. "so what did you order?"

"i got a cuba libre, while kazuha got the strawberry margarita." yeji explains, taking another sip. "they have tons of different cocktails on their menu over there."

"they offer the first drink for free, so just order whatever." kazuha says, swaying to the rhythm of the music playing in the background. the rooftop of the hotel doesn't seem as packed as you expected it to be. surrounded in glass railing, the shades of brown and green from the statement plants and furniture around you make you think of a tropical jungle. string lights are woven into each-other above your head, seemingly competing with the stars of the night sky and somewhere in the distance, you can faintly hear the sounds of the waves crashing. chatter and laughter surrounds you with some people already moving against another on the dance floor. you can't wait to join them, but you feel too sober to dance.

turning towards the handsome barista, you order three shots, ignoring the way yeji raises a brow and kazuha stares at you, stunned. it was so unlike you. but the past week had been quite rough and you were hoping for a quick stress release through drinking and dancing. and well, something else too.

"looks like we've got a real party animal over here." yeji remarks, watching you down the second shot in less than a second before grabbing the third one. the liquid burns at your throat, relaxing your muscles almost in an instant. maybe the alcohol hadn't hit yet and this was some sort of placebo effect. you associated alcohol with being relaxed after all. or maybe alcohol worked that fast. "slow down, tiger. i don't think drinking three shots with two seconds apart is a good idea."

"last time i drank like that, i spent the rest of the night throwing up in the bathroom. it was terrible." kazuha cringes, setting her now empty glass down. "you and yeji had to hold my hair back all night long."

"everyone thinks they can take a lot the first time they drink." yeji shrugs. "but at least you know your limits now."

"yeah, one drink and a half. i'm such a lightweight."

"drinking a lot isn't a party requirement." you clarify, before downing your last shot. the sweet aftertaste lingers in your mouth as a pleasant buzz spread all over your body. it feels as if you are feather light, the room around you feeling more like a boat than anything else. the chatter around you seems to disappear with only the sound of music being heard as you allow its rhythm to guide your body to the dance floor, letting it take over and move you whichever way it wanted.

yeji and kazuha soon join you, the three of you hyping each-other up and becoming one with the rest of the sweaty bodies on the dance floor. you feel amazing, confidence coursing through your veins as your moves become more sensual. the music drowns you, seizing you at once and making everything else around you disappear. only the euphoric feeling of each movement as you let loose, losing yourself in the dance floor.

and then, through the crowd of dancing bodies, near the sitting areas, you spot him. he's leaning back on the cream coloured couch, curly black hair long enough to almost cover his eyes. his features are quite sharp, but his hooded eyes seem to offset that - giving him this soft look overall, but there's this almost magnetic aura to him that has you slowly pulling away from the dance floor. the beer bottle in his hand is half empty when you walk over to him, his gaze taking you in in a way that makes you flush. he was insanely attractive and the curve to his lips only seemed to confirm that.

"liked what you saw out there?" you ask before you can stop yourself, taking the empty seat next to him before internally cringing at your choice of an opening. really? that was terrible. you know, this is part of the reason why you shouldn't drink before talking to people at parties. because you would say stuff like this. they would sound good in theory, but in practice they were cringe. it took only 3 seconds for you to ruin a possible hookup. maybe you should just get up and go.

to your surprise, he chuckles, amusement evident in his eyes. "hard not to when you look like that."

heat floods your body while he runs his eyes over your body, wolfish grin on his lips when he meets your gaze once again. "what's your name?"

"y/n. what's yours?"

"kai."

"so, kai," you begin, propping your elbow against the back of the couch as you angle your body towards him, your dress slightly riding up your thighs. "why aren't you on the dance floor?"

you don't miss the way his eyes graze at your thighs, throat bobbing before he looks back up at you, a lazy smirk on his face. "i'm more of a watcher than a dancer."

"is that so?" you ask, head tilting to the side as your eyes scan him. his legs in particular catch your attention due to the way he shifts, taking up even more room. slowly, you inch closer to him, monitoring his reaction as you place a hand on one of his thighs. you didn't want to be too much, ready to step back the moment he'd show the slightest discomfort. but he doesn't seem uncomfortable in the slightest, instead sucking in a breath as he waits for your next move. tracing circle patterns in his inner thigh, you look up at him with your doe eyes. "you look like you'd be a great dancer."

scoffing, a roguish grin settles into his face as he leans closer, the smell of pine hitting your nose. his hand settles on top of yours, stopping you from going up any further. "you're not playing fair." he exhales, hooded eyes gazing down into yours. "you do this a lot, huh?"

"no, not really. you're special." you coo, brushing your lips against his ear. the way his breath hitches brings a smile to your face as he turns to look at you, faces only inches apart. his gaze is almost piercing and you can feel it burning into your skin, demanding attention and captivating you at the same time. as his stare lingers, curving your lips upwards, you tap your fingers against his thigh once again, bringing him out of whatever trance you'd pulled him in. "so then, interested in joining me on the dance floor? i promise i won't bite."

"fine. lead the way." he smiles, setting the beer bottle on the table as he follows after you, hot on your heels. as you weave your way through the crowd, you can feel your body buzzing with each brush of his chest against your back. you're not sure if it's a coincidence anymore, especially not when his breath is hot on the back of your neck. shivering, you turn your head slightly to look at him. feigning innocence, he raises a brow, but you don't miss the way the corner of his mouth twitches, threatening to blow his cover.

eventually you make your way to the centre of the floor, turning around to look at him through the now dimmed lights. the music swells, coursing through your body and letting it take over as you move, not missing a single beat. kai follows, his moves hypnotising as he embodies the provocative vibe of the song. his dress shirt hangs loosely on his torso, the first three buttons undone to expose the smooth skin of his chest and yet, your eyes can't help but trail even lower, on the tight black jeans stretched across his thighs. it's almost devastating, how good he looks in this outfit.

closing the gap between you, he tilts your chin upwards. "eyes up here, angel."

flushing, you meet his amused gaze. the smell of pine is dizzying and so is the look in his eyes, filled with a heat you can't ignore. it's almost as if he's cast a spell on you, drawing you. your heart skips a beat as your body tingles with anticipation, arms moving to wrap around his neck as you flash a lazy smile. his hands grip at your hips, guiding your movements to match his.

electricity's in the air, skin sparking at his every touch in pleasure. and when he spins you around, you tug yourself backwards, pressing up against him in a way that makes him hiss, gripping your hips. the reaction alone sparks something within you as you begin to grind up against him. he grunts in your ear, the sound music to your ears as you continue your movements, teasing him even more until he spins you around, dipping you with ease. "you're bad, huh?" he whispers, lips grazing a path from your neck to your ear. your breathing is laboured as you tilt your head back, feeling your skin catch on fire on the places he's touched. still holding you in that position, the fingertips of his free hand trail down the bare skin of your thigh, hooking under your knee and pulling you to press towards him. you nearly moan, desire filling every inch of you as you stare at him heatedly, noting the same desire in his eyes as his stare lingers on your lips.

it's not until you spot yeji and kazuha looking at you from the corner of your eye, both of them giving you a thumbs up as they wear an expression that seems to say "good job" that you realise how long you've been standing there like that. turning a deep shade of red, your eyes meet kai's bashfully before you clear your throat and get out of the position you were in. confusion swirls in his dark brown eyes. just a moment ago you were almost willing to take him right there and then and now you're stepping away?

"let's get something to drink," you say in his ear and when he nods, you simply grab his hand and walk towards the bar with him. you're embarrassed your friends saw this side of you, but you guess it couldn't be helped.

the tension between you and kai is still there when you sit down. there's barely a gap left between the two of you, his arm stretched on the back of the couch behind you. with your drinks gone, only desire remains, hanging in the air like a palpable, electric current. it brings shivers down your spine as your heart picks up its pace in anticipation. there's a magnetism in kai's eyes, heat and temptation swirling in them dangerously. you can almost taste it - the sweet fragrance of a blooming flower, an alluring itch that demands to be satisfied.

leaning closer as if in a trance, you note the way his breath hitches, eyes landing on your lips with the same desire. he waits, gaze switching between your lips and eyes repeatedly, eyes fluttering shut when you lean to close in the distance. your lips press against the corner of his instead, willing to continue the teasing game from earlier in the midst of being overridden with the desire to kiss him with a force and passion that will leave you both breathless. you did enjoy teasing him after all, you think as you steal kisses along his sensitive pulse and sharp jaw while your hand moves back to the same spot on his thigh. a groan vibrates from his throat as he chuckles, throwing his head back at the predicament he's in. of course you would tease him like this. you'd been doing it this whole time tonight. but he'd had enough of it.

kai's hand tilts your chin to face him, thumb pushing past your lips and settling on your tongue. you still, feeling heat pool in your stomach as his gaze flares, hand slowly moves down from your chin and onto your neck. "this what you wanted?" he whispers, lips brushing against yours in a way that drives you insane, the slight pressure on your neck leaving you dazed. he notes that, smug smile playing across his lips. "you like that, don't you? you want me to choke you a little more, y/n?"

you pant in response, needily moving closer to press your lips to his, but he smirks, holding you in place. it seems he enjoys having you under him like this, drunk with the desire to chase after his lips and desperate to get a taste. "you're such a tease." you groan, unable to take it anymore as you bite on your lip.

"look who's talking," he grins before finally pressing his lips against yours. melting into the kiss, your hands slide up his silk dress shirt, tangling into his hair as you pull him closer. groaning, he cages you in against the couch, sweeping at your bottom lip with his tongue. you don't oblige, smirking into the kiss with each failed attempt to gain entry. maybe you were a bit petty from the earlier teasing and maybe this was your way of getting him back.

pressing you harder against the soft surface, you yelp when his fingers pinch at the soft flesh of your thigh, easily giving him access. rough and determined strokes have your head spinning as you moan into the kiss, pushing yourself against him. one of his hands has made its way under your dress, toying with the waistband of your underwear while the other massages your waist with his thumb. bitting on his lower lip, you break the kiss to catch some air while his lips trail down your neck, teeth scraping the base of your throat.

"fuck," you whine, rubbing your thighs together to ease some of the discomfort you were feeling down there. "you want to get out of here?"

"get out of here?" he repeats, eyes glinting as he notices the way you're all hot and bothered and it's all because of him. you were so cute with your reddened cheeks and swollen lips. feeling his pants tighten, he shifts once more, watching you rub your thighs once again impatiently. god, he couldn't wait to be in you and ruin you. he almost got up, ready to leave this party, but then an idea crossed his mind. gaze darkening, he tugs you closer whilst parting your thighs with his. there's a challenging smirk on his face as he waits.

there's absolutely no way, you think, staring up at him in disbelief. he isn't seriously asking you to ride his thigh in public? when you don't say anything, he smiles, tilting his head whilst pressing his knee against your aching core. "you seemed so eager to touch me here earlier, don't tell me you're all shy now?"

"you're insane," you whisper, almost sobering up as you nervously look around. it's not that you didn't want to, it's that he seemed to enjoy to see you in these positions, ruined and desperate for him and now everyone else would see that too. if they paid attention, you think, noticing the way the drunk ones are all dancing and the tipsy ones are flirting with one-another in other seating areas. still, it's quite risky to do something like this in an open space where everyone can see you, but it also gave you a thrill, pulse quickening as you stare at kai for a beat longer before pressing yourself closer. heart in your throat, you begin moving your hips up and down, the material of his black jeans providing that much needed friction. sparks fly up your body, producing heat as a layer of sweat glistens on your skin. you notice the way kai sharply inhales, hands moving to your hips to guide a more stable rhythm as you wrap your arms around his neck, whining into his ear with each roll of your hips. "this what you wanted? me fucked out on your thigh?"

"you're so fucking hot," comes his response, breath hot in your ear as your stomach tightens. you speed up your pace, throwing your head back in pleasure. you don't care anymore if anyone's watching you get off on kai's thigh while chanting his name like a prayer. you wanted him. you wanted him so badly.

"kai, please. . ."

"please what?"

you hiss, glaring at him as you continue your movements. you were starting to grow impatient now. it's true that you were the one that started this game of teasing, but you weren't expecting him to keep going. the smug expression on his face seems to irritate you even more. "god, maybe i should just fuck that smile of yours off your face." your voice is low, sultry enough to make him picture it clearly as you continue, your frustration showing. "you're being too cocky, stalling too much."

your words take kai by surprise. he looks down at you, lips parted as heat creeps up his face. raising a brow, you suddenly feel him pressing against your thigh and maybe it's your turn to be cocky. "you like that? me riding your face? using it to get myself off?"

"shit," he groans, pulling away, eyes hazy with lust. "let's go."

signalling to your friends that you're going to be leaving with him, you let him guide you to the elevator. as soon as the doors close, his mouth hungrily devours yours once more with a carnal greed whilst his arm hooks itself under one of your thighs, grinding himself against you almost impatiently. your teasing game had gone on for far too long, riling both of you up as you moan into his mouth, running your hands over his chest before beginning to unbutton his shirt. when the elevator dings and the doors open, you don't break from each-other, instead stumbling down the hallway and into his hotel room as you sloppily remove pieces of clothing from each-other. somehow, you make it onto the bed and kai's already in you before you can so much as say anything else.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated!

© aprilisque, 2023. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[aurabird]

Haunted Dreams

Sausage just wants to sleep...but trauma weighs heavy on the mind.

Tw: Nightmares, blood/violence, brief disassociation

Also on Ao3

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

He walked through Mythland, a casual stroll through the streets of his empire to see it in all its restored glory now that he’d removed the corruption that had overun it. His citizens greeted him as he passed and he made a point to at least try and speak with as many of them as he could.

Then the sky grew dark, thunder echoing as lightning split the heavens and suddenly, the citizens around him were gone, as if they’d never been there to begin with.

Sausage knew what the storm meant and he ran; fear in his heart and panic in his mind. He needed to get away, he needed to hide. He was fooling himself, there was no hiding from the harbinger of the storm, no matter how much he wished there was.

He ducked into a building as he was inflicted with a blindness spell, cowering in a corner like a frightened animal. Maybe...maybe if he pretended they weren’t here like Joel did then they’d go away. Positive thinking right? That’s what Gem always told him.

“Hello, Sausage.” Xornoth said with a wicked grin as he came into view, “You and I have much to discuss.”

“No! G-Go away! I don’t work for you anymore!”

The demon laughed, “Oh Sausage, did you really think I’d leave you alone? You will never escape me!”

The next thing Sausage knew was been teleported, now on a netherbrick floor where familiar crimson tendrils were quick to bind him.

The blindness spell wore off and he felt his blood run cold. He knew where he was, he’d been here before when he was still under the influence of corruption. Even now he could almost hear the agonized cries and pleas of those he watched Xornoth torture...that he himself even tortured. Sausage could almost see Fwhip, Gem, and Kathrine bound and helpless, their blood still staining the ground.

“Its a new perspective isn’t it? Being on the receiving end of something you once enjoyed?” Xornoth questioned, twirling a dark, bloodied dagger in his hand as he walked “I cannot let your insolence go unpunished, Sausage.”

Suddenly, the demon was in front of him, its gaze meeting his own. “I wonder how easy you’ll be to break.”

  Sausage jolted upright with a cry, pain radiating in his right arm. He quickly looked at it in panic, expecting to see pulsating crimson veins. Instead, all he saw were the web-like scars where corruption had once been seared in his flesh. His gaze followed them from where they started at his wrist, and ended right over his heart.

He grimaced at the permanent reminders of what he’d done and averted his gaze to the room he was in. It wasn’t a dungeon where he would be tortured, it was his bedroom...in his keep...in Mythland.

There was no storm outside, moonlight shining brightly through the window and casting a gentle glow on the floor and walls.

A nightmare...that’s all it’d been. A remnant of the trauma he’d gone through. Still, there was no going back to sleep, not after that. Maybe...maybe he could go on a midnight walk to clear his head?

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, going over to his wardrobe and grabbing a simple undershirt, pants, and a cloak. It was a casual attire, much different than what he would normally wear, but it’d work.

Once he was on the cobbled streets he began his walk. Mythland was stunning at night, lanterns lit the paths and fireflies flickered in the air. The sound of night wildlife was therapeutic as it was joined by his quiet footsteps.

The bleating of blood sheep made him smile, with the corruption tentacles gone the symbols of his empire’s culture had come out from hiding, no longer afraid.

All was fine until Sausage could have sworn he saw a shadow move in the darkness. When he turned to look, it was gone.

Just a nocturnal animal he told himself before continuing down the path towards one of the residential areas.

He’d helped design some of the houses here himself and the sight of them made him smile. Light shone dimly through closed windows, alerting him that the residents were safe.

Then, in one of the alleys, he caught sight of a shadow, but it disappeared seconds after he made eye contact with it. A stray dog or cat he thought, that was all, there was no one out on the streets at this hour other than him.

As he continued he noticed that the sounds of the night had gone quiet, his footsteps echoed by another set behind him. He turned, but saw no one, not even the particles of an invisibility potion.

He was tired, that was all. He was tired and just imagining things. He was alone out here...he should probably head back home to rest.

Countless times more on his way back did he swear he was hearing footsteps, close enough to be in earshot, yet far enough away to be unnerving. He also could have sworn the shadow he kept seeing was following him. He knew it was just paranoia, once he was back in bed he’d be fine.

Soon, his home came into view and he went inside, climbing the stairs back to his bedroom.

He discarded the cloak, hanging it on the railing to put away in the morning and made his way over to his bed, not even bothering to get undressed again.

As he passed the mirror by his wardrobe though he froze, the reflection in it drawing his attention out of the corner of his eye. The second he turned to look, he recoiled with a yelp.

In the glass was a man that looked like him, a man dressed in black and grey with piercing red eyes and black veins marring their skin that had a faint crimson light flickering underneath. A sinister grin crossed their face as their gaze met his own.

“Look at you.” his reflection began in a distorted version of his voice, “Pathetic and weak once more. You were so powerful Sausage, you were feared. Don’t you miss it? The strength flowing through your veins, the magic at your fingertips. You could have had so much more too, if you’d stayed.”

It clicked then who the reflection was, it was someone he never wanted to see again, someone that terrified him. “I’m not you. I’m not a puppet for someone to order around.”

His reflection vanished and for a moment, Sausage thought he’d beaten his subconscious. He’d been wrong as he felt a sword go through him, the blade dripping with ink black blood as it protruded from his chest.

“You’re right,” came the voice of his doppelganger once more, “Because I am what you should have been.”

The sword was yanked back out, and Sausage fell to the ground, hacking and sputtering as the life drained from his body. 

“All I have to do, is kill you and take your place.”

The black blade of a corrupted netherite axe tore through the flesh of his neck.

  Once more he awoke with a cry, his hands instantly flying up to his throat instinctively in panic. Once he realized that his head was still attached did he dare open his eyes.

Sunlight came through the window and lit up the room, birds sung outside and the wind rustled the leaves of trees. In the distance, he could hear the faint sounds of his people going about their lives.

Tears formed in his eyes and he began to cry, ugly sobs coming from his throat at what he’d witnessed in his nightmare.

Then it dawned on him...what if he was still asleep? What if he’d just passed into another part of the illusion his traumatized mind was inflicting upon him?!

What if...what if he wasn’t really in Mythland? What if he’d failed in the spirit realm and as punishment he was left to suffer a nightmare for eternity?!

Who was he? The King of Mythland? The servant of evil? The condemned spirit left to be forgotten by those he cared about?

The mental turmoil was maddening and Sausage clutched the sides of his head, “Stop...make it stop...” he pleaded quietly.

A knock on the door snapped him from his spiraling thoughts, bringing him back to what he hoped was reality.

“Sausage are you home? I know you said you wanted to rest but I’m worried about you.”

Gem’s voice was music to his ears and Sausage quickly regained his composure as best he could before heading down the stairs to open the door for her.

“Hey, Gem.” he said with what he hopped was a happy tone, he didn’t want to worry her any more.

The wizard’s smile faded, “Sausage you look horrible, I thought you said you were going to get some sleep and recover!”

“What are you talking about Gem? I feel perfectly fine!” he countered casually, “I’ve been resting like I said I would after all!.”

Gem wasn’t convinced, “Sausage, have you looked at yourself in the mirror?”

The question had been an innocent one, but the nightmare from the night before quickly flashed before him. “N-No, because I’m...I’m afraid of what I’ll see.” he admitted as he wrapped his arms around himself.

"What do you think you’ll see?”

Sausage grit his teeth, his body beginning to shake, “Him, Gem...the corrupted puppet of Xornoth...”

"He isn’t you, Sausage.”

“No...he’s not...” because he’s who I was supposed to be...

Gem broke the momentary silence that followed, “You’ve gone through a lot, Sausage and while I still don’t know if I can fully trust you yet, if you need to talk about anything then I’ll be right over alright?”

Sausage nodded and wrapped his arms around her just to make sure she was real and not another trick played by his mind, “Thank you.”

-

He had spent the next several days working, doing everything he could to keep himself from falling asleep, afraid of what would await him. He’d dozed off a few times and had found himself in several scenarios.

  Sometimes it’d been in the arena, the other rulers falling to his blade over-and-over again, bathing him in their blood while he smiled in sadistic pleasure.

Sometimes he’d be running from a shadow that would always catch him, its claws digging into his mind to puppet him around once more

Sometimes he’d see the wicked grin of his twisted doppelganger as they drove a blade through him, their words poisoning his thoughts and filling him with doubt and fear.

Sometimes he’d be laying helpless as Xornoth tortured him. Trying countless painful methods to ensure that this time the corruption taking over his body would be permanent.

  And when night fell he’d just lay in bed awake, guilt and trauma weighing heavy on his mind. The things he’d done were horrible and now that he was free, he would be hunted relentlessly by the one that had controlled him and the hybrid that still followed them.

Sausage was scared. He needed sleep...he needed help...

That had been the one word shakily scribbled onto the paper he’d tied around a raven’s leg before sending it to the Crystal Cliffs.

-

A knock on the door the following morning forced him to get out of bed and go to open it. Sausage’s movements were sluggish but he managed to succeed in his goal. Gem stood in the doorway, her expression morphing into a grimace once she saw the sorry sight he probably was. “Oh Sausage...what have you been doing to yourself...”

He collapsed into her, unable to hold back tears any longer, “I can’t sleep Gem! Every time I close my eyes the nightmares come, even if its just for a minute. Please Gem, sleeping potions...or even some kind of sleeping spell...just something, anything to help me fall asleep peacefully!”

Gem couldn’t think of any way to reply, only held the broken person in her arms.

“How about we get you inside? See what we can do?”

A distressed  but agreeing sound came from Sausage and Gem helped maneuver him upstairs and back into his bed. The Mythland king looked terrible, his clothes disheveled and his face pale enough that the dark circles forming beneath his eyes were extremely noticeable.

“Tell me everything, Sausage. Tell me about the nightmares and anything that is bothering you.”

So he did. Sausage spilled every detail about his nightmares and paranoia, about every little thing he feared and pondered. Gem listened intently as he spoke, never once interrupting, just letting him get his thoughts out.

By the time he finished Sausage felt as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders, it was...nice.

The last of his energy had been sapped from his venting and the clutches of sleep tried to bring him into their hold.

Gem stroked his head, her sympathetic eyes meeting his own tired ones. “Go to sleep, Sausage.” he coaxed, “I’ll be here to wake you if I sense something is wrong.“

Sausage only gave a sigh, his eyelids slipping shut and lulling him into darkness.

But, for the first time in an unknown amount of days, the nightmares didn’t come. Sausage was at peace, finally able to rest.

[fang-wolfsbane]

Transformers Animated: Morning After: Chapter 12: Home, Sweet Home

“This place is perfect!” Bumblebee exclaimed the moment they entered the warehouse that Sari had suggested.

The little girl stood with her hands on her hips and a proud grin on her lips, obviously proud of herself. Tyla had to hand it to her, she certainly had the perfect place in mind like she had claimed an hour ago.

“Told you. It’s an old warehouse that even my dad doesn’t know about and he owns the place. I figured since it wasn’t being used, that you might get some use out of it. After all, you need a base and it’s a pretty cosy place to hang out at too.”

“Must be nice being rich. I couldn’t even afford a cube of this place considering my rent already,” Tyla said, making her way up to a catwalk situated on what she assumed was originally meant to be a second floor or third floor. Yeah, not even if she had two jobs would she even be able to afford one room.

“And you’re sure we can use this place?” Optimus asked, looking to Sari with an even bigger eye at her in what she assumed was their version of a raised brow.

“One hundred percent big guy,” Sari smiled, giving him a thumb’s up. The action seemed to confuse Optimus for a short while as he looked to Tyla for some sort of explanation. She only smiled as well as she gave him the same gesture. He copied it with an awkwardly raised blue thumb.

“Hm, I guess I can move some of my equipment over… it’ll take a while to get everything off the ship though,” Ratchet said, a scowl on his face as he wandered off through one of the archways, possibly to look at the rest of the building. Highdrive seemed like he wanted to ask about the place a bit more before Ratchet’s voice boomed back into the room, calling him over to help check things out.

“It’s so big out here,” Bulkhead breathed, nearly spinning around from excitement. Compared to the ship, or what she had seen of it so far, the warehouse was certainly far bigger, perhaps even big enough to hold their ship if it could transform into a giant robot like the others.

“You say that like you’ve never been in a big room before,” Tyla said from where she leaned against the railings, her arms folded on them as she balanced herself on the heels of her feet on the walk.

Bulkhead only smiled, his three-fingered hand rubbing against the back of his head like a child that had been caught doing something silly.

“Small minds are often easily amused,” Prowl hummed from where he looked around the base. Bulkhead kept his smile for a short while longer until the realisation of what Prowl truly meant kicked in, causing him to lower his arm back to his side. Tyla frowned to the motorcycle bot, tempted to remind him that it was because of the small mind that he was still functional. She hadn’t seen a lot of the fight, but she was pretty sure that if Bulkhead hadn’t been involved, then things could have ended a lot worse than they did.

Optimus stopped her before she could, walking up to the larger bot and putting a hand on his arm with a soft, trying smile. “I know this isn’t exactly ideal, but it’s something. We might as well try to get used to it, don’t you think?”

Those words seemed to be just what Bulkhead needed, and they seemed to be effective enough to cause Prowl to look away and rethink what he said. What Sari suggested next, got Bulkhead even more excited.

“Hey, how about we go pick out a room for you? I know just the one,” Sari offered, hopping onto Bulkhead’s extended hand like she was taking a ride at a fair as the two of them bundled off together with Sari guiding him through each room.

Perhaps getting acquainted with giant robots wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but Sari took to it so naturally that it was almost as if she was one of them. Unable to contain her own excitement, Tyla rushed down the stairs, waving to them.

“Hey, wait for me!”

Transformers Animated, Bumblebee, Sari Sumdac, Optimus Prime, Ratchet, Bulkhead and Prowl © Hasbro Morning After, Highdrive and Tyla © Fang Wolfsbane

[dingdongitsbees]

BLACK-EYED SUSAN | LEVI X READER HUNGER GAMES AU

Chapter 6: Sorrys

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Tw: implied prostitution, death

Mood Board for this chapter

Work Count: 6k Ao3 link Ask to be added to the taglist! It will be updated weekly on Saturdays

Second person version (“you” pronouns) can be found here

Master List

“Would 'sorry' have made any difference? Does it ever? It's just a word. One word against a thousand actions.” ― Sarah Ockler, Bittersweet

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Without needing to talk we came to a stop. I leant against the sandstone wall of a building as I panted, Levi watched over my shoulder as he caught his breath. It was unbearably quiet aside from us. There were no people, no animals, not rivers of water. Only a slight breeze that brought some of the sand with it could be heard constantly. It meant we were safe for now, but the lack of bombarding noises that we had grown used to the past week was unsettling.

It was also a scarily open scenery; we could look any direction and see the grid of buildings continuing for kilometres. The slight heat wave above the surface of the road rippled and waved in the distance. Someone would only need to step out and squint their eyes down the straight path to see us.

I glanced to Levi. He was still, his eyes almost glazed over, staring into nothingness. A single line of a blood splatter, now completely crusted, was on his cheek.

“Let’s get inside,” I offered, trying to break him from his trance.

He nodded distractedly, following after me up the front steps of the building. I slammed my shoulder into rusted red door, skidding it across the concrete floor to get it open. We filed in and I closed it behind me as quietly as possible, hoping the grating sound didn’t send itself all around the arena.

The inside wasn’t exactly pristine. Sand sat in corners and in little mounds, a slight layer of it everywhere, likely blown in from the pane-less windows. Around the walls was what seemed to be a rusted kitchen of some sorts. There was a completely rusted sink, with a tap I didn’t need to test to know it wouldn’t work. There were a few counters, rusted over as well. Wooden tables and chairs were scattered randomly, half with broken legs and fallen over.

Sand crunched beneath our boots while we walked to the concrete spiral staircase in the dead centre of the room. It had no railing or anything, safety wasn’t exactly prioritised here. I glanced up the centre hole, it went all the way to a hatch leading to the roof and had a landing at the tens of levels above us. We began the climb, Levi following dutifully after me. Most levels were similar to the ground floor, piles of broken furniture, a ripped-up rug here and there, anything metal rusted over. Thankfully, there was less and less sand as we ascended, too far up to have it blown in from the windows.

Only a few floors up I took the landing and walked into one of the rooms. It was alright enough, there was at least a dirty rug to cushion the hard ground for us. I plopped down with a sigh; we hadn’t really stopped moving so it had kept my brain busy. Now we weren’t so fortunate. He sat down slowly next to me, leaning against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. We were quiet for a long time before he spoke.

“Was that Sasha?”

I gulped, staring at the threads beneath me. He took the message.

“I think…” he continued, “It’s my fault.”

Eyebrows furrowed, I frowned at him, “Yeah she shot at you but-”

“I killed Kaya.”

That stopped me short. I hadn’t been close enough to see who he had hit, but now the blond hair that fell to the ground was suddenly unmistakable. We had killed our friends.

“Sasha must have seen and… tried to get me for it. I didn’t even realise until after we left who it was.”

He was speaking calmly but an edge had entered his vocal cords, making them just too tight. The line of blood on him moved and swirled as he spoke. I was fairly sure, had I not been entirely exhausted and knew that this wasn’t all a big dream, I would be crying right now. It was eating us alive. 

We killed our friends.

There wasn’t anything either of us could think to say, no words of comfort can undo damage like that. Levi looked like he was about to burst. I just reached over and placed my hand over his and leant my head on his shoulder as we stared into the wall. He lowered himself a little to make it more comfortable, and maybe had I been able to disassociate hard enough, I could have pretended we were on the hill at home where it was safe. Where there was no Hunger Games, no cameras, no death traps, no killers, and where we weren’t murderers. But we weren’t on the hill.

I took my pack off and started sorting through it as Levi watched. There wasn’t much to be honest. There was a flashlight, rope, some canned food, sunscreen, and two bone dry water bottles. I shook them, hoping the weight just deceived me but there was nothing. I searched through his bag for him, but it was just the same supplies. Water would be a variable here for sure.

“We can try and find some tomorrow,” Levi said, even though his lips were already cracking. The run here had taken a lot out of us, mainly just from the sun beating down, the amount of sweat we released must have been in bucket loads.

I nodded, too tired to disagree. The building would give us enough cover from the heat for now. I was happy with myself that we didn’t go further up which would certainly be hotter.

The next few hours were quiet, we searched the building to see if we could find anything useful. We found some cans of food here and there, nothing that looked appetising but good enough to get us through. We avoided the windows at all costs even though it was tempting, we didn’t want to look down to accidentally find ourselves making eye contact with a tribute. I could slightly hear a whirring whenever we moved, a camera undoubtedly focusing in on us. They were probably doing some commentary while they waited for something more interesting to happen. Only two canons were heard for the latter half of the day, but both times it gave me a heart attack and I would instantly panic, trying to find Levi who too would be running down or up the stairs searching for me.

The sun eventually set, sending the tower into a pitch-black space. We moved back to our room, scared we’d trip over something in the dark and go tumbling down the staircase, not to mention the unspoken fear that one would be killed without the other one knowing.

We sat against the wall again, getting through a can each, eating in silence, using the moonlight coming in from the window.

“You should sleep,” I murmured, “I’ll wake you up if anything happens.”

He started to shake his head, but he looked downright awful.

“I’ll wake you up when the announcement starts, then we can swap if you want.” I patted my outstretched legs.

He sighed, his cheeks bones illuminated by the blue light as he locked his jaw. “You better fucking wake me brat.” And without another word, he lay his head down on my thighs, one hand right next to the handle of his sword.

Chuckling, I looked down at his grumpy face looking up at me. I reached down picked the blood off of him, letting it fall to the rug, getting rid of the evidence. I smoothed his hair off his forehead, playing with little strands. His eyes closed gently, warming to the careful touch. His eyebrows relaxed, making him look years younger, or maybe perhaps just less hardened by the world. I used to wonder what would have happened in another universe if we just had normal lives, like it was before the civil war, maybe if we even lived in the Capitol. I think he would hate Capitol people no matter where and when he was born though. That was just in his nature. Nurture does many things to shape who you are, but some things can’t be deleted out of your DNA.

Even when I was sure he had fallen asleep, his muscles relaxing into me, his breath quiet and slow, I kept my hand playing with his hair. Who it was to keep calm, I’m not sure. I had my knives next to me, ready to throw at anyone that walked through the doorway. My eyes pricked up at anything, the tower shifting and groaning with the wind, the sand hitting the concrete. I grounded myself each time by just looking down.

I resorted to looking out to the moon and wished he had born in a time where he didn’t know me. He would be all the better for it.

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The national anthem blared around the arena, alerting us it was midnight. I didn’t need to wake Levi for it. He groaned, pushing himself up. I almost wished he had stayed there, his warmth made me feel safe. We wandered over to the window, leaning our arms on the windowsill, looking up into the sky. The country’s emblem painted itself in the sky, waiting until it got everyone’s attention. It started showing one by one those who had died so far, showing a picture, though apparently not finding it necessary to include their name. It skipped past One and Two, starting with the girl from Three. I wondered what Falco thought of that. Thankfully or unfortunately, his face didn’t come up next. Instead, was the girl from Four. If I could remember the chaos clearly, I think she had turned to Marcel, hoping to ride on their shared home together only to be cut down by him without a second glance. It went past faces I didn’t know, a boy from Five, a boy from Seven, both of the tributes from Eight. But I knew who was next.

My fingers tightened around the sill as I stared up at Sasha’s face in the sky under the title of District Ten. She looked heroic, her pigtail blowing behind her, so full of life and drive. I took that away. From her family, from her friends. Oh god from Connie. I stared up, not sure if I was hoping to see his face next, but it never showed, instead going to Kaya.

I could see Levi in my peripheral, fidgeting to look away from the child in front of us but he couldn’t. Out of either horror or respect, maybe both. She looked so innocent up there.

The showing ended, sending the arena back into darkness. I tried to not let out a sound but an involuntary half choking sob came out. I clasped my hand over my mouth, trying to stifle my oncoming sobs but it was no use.

Sasha and Kaya were dead.

Levi enveloped me in his arms within a second. Letting my shaking hand grip onto his tank top. I didn’t know if I was crying or not. All I knew is that everything hurt. I could tell Levi was trying to keep down his tremors by gripping onto me tightly, but they still sent vibrations down my arms.

Sasha and Kaya were dead and it was our fault.

We were murderers. No matter how many times I told myself that, I still couldn’t understand it. I had been prepared to die here, for maybe Levi to, to see people die. But I hadn’t really conceptualised that we would be the reason. Let alone be the reason that people we cared about died. Levi was right back then, we should have never talked to them, it just made it hurt more. I was naïve.

What have I done?

Levi should hate me for it really, if he had it in him. He should’ve used those arms he had around my neck in comfort to choke me until I didn’t know what oxygen was anymore. He hadn’t really gotten along with any of them, mainly just tolerating their company, but he liked Kaya. She was young, innocent, but so serious and mature for her age. She was just a kid. She shouldn’t have even been here. And now he’d have to live with the fact that he killed her. Killed a child.

“You need sleep,” Levi said, breaking the silence. He pulled back so he could look down at me. “Come on.”

He guided me back over to the rug and pressed gently on the side of my head, letting me fall onto his thigh. I curled up in a ball, trying to keep myself as close to him as possible. With a lone finger, I started tracing random swirls on his leg, without any direction, just following it with my eye mindlessly. He stiffened at the contact before relaxing into it, his hand moving to play with my hair. We didn’t talk, just drunk on each other’s touch.

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The sun came in through the window threatening to blind me. I groaned, shielding my face by turning further into Levi’s leg. I heard a deep chuckle.

“Oh, shut up.”

Groggily I stood up, trying to adjust my eyes to the brightness. At the same time, the last day’s events and my dehydration hit me at once. I avoided thoughts about the first matter and focused on the second. My tongue was sandpaper, feelings big and dumb in my mouth. I don’t know how I didn’t swallow it in the night.

“Let’s go to the roof,” Levi said, “We might be able to see something.”

“Dehydration would be the lamest way to go out.”

He glared at me playfully, but a semblance of fear was stuck in his pupils. Dehydration would also suck to watch someone die from.

We trekked up the stairs after slathering some sunscreen on ourselves, Levi lifting open the hatch, it hitting the roof with a loud clang. We both cringed at the noise before going up. If it hadn’t gotten that hot when going higher up the tower it was certainly fucking hot now. The sun glared at us, I was thankful it was partially blocked by other buildings, it only just showing itself over the horizon. Noon would be killer if we went outside for whatever dumb reason.

I jogged weakly after Levi who stood near the edge, arms resting on the low barrier. I followed his eye line to something green in the distance. An oasis. It was so vibrant compared to everything else, organic and moving and so full of colour. It took up the space of about ten by ten buildings on the grid, and its trees and shrubbery covering anything that might hide within it. It was huge and it was undoubtedly where we had to go.

“If we go now, people might not be awake yet,” I said.

He nodded. We counted how many buildings forward we’d have to pass and how many left. Getting lost here would be a pain, there was nothing that differentiated one building from the next. We travelled back down, only taking what we needed, essentially just our bottles and weapons, we couldn’t have dead weight bringing us down if we had to run from someone. We’d come back anyway.

Levi poked his head out the door, waiting for some sort of noise to reveal itself, but nothing did. He waved me out after him, still keeping his eye out for anyone or anything. I closed the door behind us until it left only a sliver the exact size of my thumb, anyone that passed wouldn’t think anything about it, but in case we forgot which was ours we’d know immediately.

We stuck to the walls of buildings, checking around each corner before we passed, the last thing we needed was someone tailing us without us knowing. We didn’t talk the whole way, only whispering how much further we had to go. I wanted to break the silence past our carefully placed feet on the ground, to make some jokes to lighten the tension, get Levi to roll his eyes at me and try to hide his smile like he always does.

I remembered the first time I approached him, usually the prospect of talking to the Levi would have anyone ready to bolt in the opposite direction, but that day I wasn’t scared. I sat next to him at the back of the school grounds, ignoring the scathing glare he gave me. I looked up to the grey sky, swinging my legs on the bench.

“What are you doing?” he spat, too stubborn to move from the bench himself.

“Sitting.”

He narrowed his eyes at me but said nothing.

It had gotten around that his mum had died after someone overheard it from a teacher. He was lucky he was so intimidating because it meant he wasn’t hounded by the sorrys like I was. God the sorrys. Ever since my parents had died, I heard it more than my own name. Sorry for your loss. What? Did you do it? It was essentially annoying me out of the grieving stage.

Everyone knew about my parents too. My dad had worked there at my school, taught everyone how to read and write, he was pretty well loved for a teacher. In the middle of class when he was midsentence about something to do with the civil war, another teacher burst into the room to tell us the nearby mine had collapsed. I ran out, my father right on my heels. My mum was in there, probably crushed my rubble immediately, but we didn’t know that yet or didn’t want to believe it rather.

The area was being fenced off, smoke and dust still billowing out of the entrance. There was so much yelling, people going in and out, clothes and skin blackened by soot. Some came out with a person’s arm over their shoulders, coughing and bleeding, rushing them to a makeshift medical team that had been set up. But my mother was nowhere to be seen. My father rolled up his sleeves, grabbing a helmet and lantern and headed in, giving a strained smile over his shoulder. That was the last I saw of him.

I waited there for hours, hands tight on the barrier. Most people had dispersed, leaving a few stray miners and family members. Night fell and I stayed there. Wives and husbands, brothers and sisters, parents and children stood next to me. Neither of my parents ever came back.

My father being a teacher meant I was reminded of his absence every time I walked into a classroom, saw his desk, saw his supplies. It reminded everyone else too, so all the attention was on me and I hated it. I opted to spend time alone, distancing myself from friends who couldn’t go a conversation without panicking every time they mentioned their parents, the mines or dying. It was lonely, but it was better.

So, when I heard that Levi’s mum died, I knew he wouldn’t be like them. His mother was really nice and exceptionally beautiful, he had certainly picked up his ebony hair, pale skin, and piercing eyes from her. They both held such a presence. She would often come with extra snacks for kids she saw needed it after school, despite Levi’s distaste for everyone. Everyone was well aware of her profession, but that was pretty normal there. You do what you had to do to survive in Twelve. But eventually she showed up less and less, and soon not at all. My guess was a fever of some sort.

Levi became even more withdrawn than he had before, but when provoked would respond with ten times the amount of aggression he usually did. It isolated him even more than he was before, just how he liked it. So, when I sat on the bench next to him, I can only begin to assume how much he hated me.

We didn’t talk when we sat together for the rest of lunch, just watching everyone else talk or play. We weren’t one of them anymore.

For the rest of the week, I walked up and sat next to him again, neither of us saying a word. Sure, he glared at me each time, but we both knew that if he really hated me that much he would stop sitting there. Whether it was pure stubbornness, or his inability to admit he enjoyed my company, he would never say. But I had a feeling it was the latter. On the Wednesday, I gave half of my sandwich to him, forcing it into his empty hands, repeating the gesture on the next occasions.

When lunch ended on the Friday, and I stood to walk to class, he grabbed onto my wrist. I was sure that right there I was finally going to be the next added to the list of beaten-to-a-pulp victims, but instead his gaze held steady with mine.

“How do you have food?”

I frowned. “Huh?”

“Your parents are dead but you’re not at the orphanage. How do you have food?”

His bluntness took me off guard, but there was no malice behind it. His eyes just looked up at me expectantly, and I swore they were saying help me. I had definitely noticed how he came to school every day empty handed, thinner than the time before. He had no father that I knew of, probably one of his mother’s clients. But just like me, he had no one to take care of him. I had avoided the orphanage at all costs, I heard horror stories of how they treated kids in there, but I certainly exaggerated them in my head. I didn’t want to leave my home.

“I have money left over from my parents, it’ll run out soon though,” I answered. He tched, letting go of my wrist. I don’t know what he was expecting, I didn’t exactly have a job. “Come to my place after school.” I don’t know where my boldness came from, but I waited nervously for his reply.

He locked his jaw, looking to see if there was anything that made me untrustworthy to him. He nodded.

Fidgeting, I waited out the front of the school after the bell rang. I was suddenly questioning the offer. What if he doesn’t show up cause he thought it was weird? What if I can’t sit with him anymore? Is he just going to come and rob my stuff? I wouldn’t have held that against him if he did, if I were in his position, I can’t imagine I’d do much different.

“Brat.”

I looked up and saw him standing with his hands in pockets. He tilted his head towards the gate. I gave a quick smile and started leading the way home. We stayed in an uncomfortable silence on the way there. We had never really held a conversation before to know how to talk with one another.

I beckoned him inside, gesturing awkwardly to the table for him to sit down. Sit he did, pulling out a chair. I looked through my cupboards, stalling as much as possible so I didn’t have to look at him and talk. That’s too many things at once.

“What have you been doing then? Since your mum is dead and all?” I asked, grabbing down some onions and potatoes. It felt good to talk about dead parents casually, like it wasn’t all we were amounted to.

I heard his clothes shift, shrugging. “Just been wandering. Got kicked out of my place cause the brothel wants to use the room.”

I stopped, turning to him. “Where you been sleeping then?”

“Around.”

I frowned. “How you been eating?”

“Steal here and there. Gonna snitch?”

I shook my head. “Nah, I’ll probably have to soon is all.” Who was going to snitch on a poor kid? Well I guess we were all poor kids. But definitely not on one who’s homeless and whose mum fucking died.

“Have you been able to stay clean?” That would probably had been a rude question if it was anyone else I was talking to. Levi was infamous for how meticulous he wanted things.

“Use the river outside the fence.”

“You should take me.”

“Why? Gonna get a peacekeeper to catch me in the act?”

“I don’t know why you think I’m out to get you. It just seems peaceful out there.” I looked out the window, looking past the lines of grey and brown housing to the perfect greenery beyond. Free of people and smog, the two things I hated most.

He considered me. “Tomorrow then.”

The next week was the happiest I had been since my parents died, probably the most fun I’d had my whole life. He was bitter company, but once you got used to it and understood when he was being serious and what he was really trying to say it was easy to bounce off of him.

I offered him to stay at my place indefinitely, until he wanted to leave. It was lonely there by myself anyway. I opened my door to him, expecting him to just be carrying in a bag of his stuff, which he had, but in addition to a rag over his mouth. He headed straight to my basic and lacking cleaning supplies.

“First of all, your place is filthy as shit, and I am not staying in a place like that.”

We were inseparable from then on, one meant the other. One wasn’t where the other wasn’t close by. We knew each through and through. I’d never had something like that before, and I didn’t want it to stop.

At lunch, hanging out on the sacred bench like every day before, making fun of him for something stupid, I raised an eyebrow, cocking my head over so Levi could follow my line of sight. Two people were heading over, two new kids. The girl had red pigtails, a blond boy strolling behind her. Both were heading over, the girl in question taking no notice of how we had separated ourselves from everyone else, the boy very much did but sent a smile anyway.

“Hiya! I’m Isabel and this is Farlan!”

“We’re here brat,” Levi said, snapping me back to the present.

I focused my eyes back in, taking in the great green forest in front of me. There was no clear path in it, just enough room between each tree to make your own way through. The grass tickled our knees, hiding who knows what in it. It looked progressively darker the deeper in it got, hiding possible monsters in the shadows. Secrets were behind those leaves. I wish we brought our flashlights.

“I’ll go alone,” Levi said, not looking at me.

“And you get caught having to fight who knows what by yourself? I think the fuck not.”

He rolled his eyes. Levi held his sword in front of him, I got the knives ready between my fingers, ready to draw.

“Ready?” He asked. I nodded. With one final look behind us, we headed in.

It was eerily quiet even in here. We cringed every time fallen leaves let out complaints where we walked, but no other sign of life let itself known. We dipped and turned around branches and trunks, hoping we were going in the right direction.

To my left I heard something scamper, little claws digging into wood. I turned to it but saw nothing. Another one to my right. Behind me. Above me. Multiplying in the amount of sounds each time. Levi noticed I stopped, turning to me but his eyes rested on something behind me. He swallowed.

He kept his eyes there. “Slowly.”

Painstakingly going one small step at a time, sweat pooling down my neck, trying not to pull an Orpheus, I arrived at his side. I looked over my shoulder my eyes widening at the scene. Across every branch sat squirrels staring at us, hands rubbing together. I would have simply been unnerved if this were at home, maybe I would have made a joke about a festival they were having, but things in here were not innocent.

We took a step backwards, not taking our eyes off of them. We glanced to each other.

Snap.

We looked in horror at the twig Levi snapped beneath his foot, sending sound waves through the whole oasis.

We sprinted through the trees, essentially running blind as Levi hacked his way through the greenery, creating a makeshift pathway. I could hear the squirrels scampering after us, teeth gnashing, getting louder and louder as we went. One jumped and landed itself right on my arm, I smacked it off with my other, sending it to the ground with a dull thud. But they just kept coming.

They kept launching themselves at us, some successfully sinking their teeth into our skin. I cried out and Levi cursed. My knives were entirely useless. Adrenaline running through me, I snapped off a branch, using it as a baton, bludgeoning any that came near us. I wacked any that threatened to hit Levi, he didn’t have the time to look over his shoulder to see them coming, and he was too scared to hit them with his sword in case I got caught in the crossfire.

“Fuck off!” I yelled as I thwacked one off his shoulder.

The forest was getting lighter, the sun finding little spaces between the leaves again. Up ahead we could see an opening, we sped up, desperately trying to get there. We dived out, panting and scrambling up with my branch and his sword at the ready. They all stood on their hind legs in the branches on the ground, whiskers twitching, but they didn’t go past the tree line.

When we were sure that weren’t a threat anymore, I leant on my knees taking some deep breaths. Levi came over, taking one of my arms in his delicate grasp. I watched curiously as he looked over my arm, finding every bit of broken skin to see how serious it was. Blood streaked down my arm in little thin rivers, half of it already dried up. But they weren’t that deep, they just hurt like a bitch.

I finally looked around us. We were in a grassed clearing, bordered by trees and more squirrels. Right smack in the middle was a lake, the water clearer than the blue sky. We sat down on its bank, still getting air back into our lungs. I took out my bottle, quickly filling it, and proceeding to gulp all of it down. We both drank probably three whole bottles before we laid back in the grass staring up at the sky. The sun was obscured by the tree overhangs, casting light only on one half of the clearing. It was incredibly peaceful. I could finally hear some birds, singing light songs.

I sat up again, filling the water bottle. “Hands.”

He sat up too, outstretching his hands to me. I poured the water in a gradual stream while he rubbed his hands together, cleaning off the caked in dust and sand. His dry hands almost inflated through the added moisture, the cracks in his palms disappearing. Levi hated being dirty, everything in Twelve choked you with smog and dirt, cleanliness was a luxury few could regularly afford. But just being clean, for even a moment, made you forget about how shitty everything really was. It was his ultimate comfort. He cupped the water, rubbing it into his face harshly until his skin became pink, running the last amount through his hair. He shook his hands and hair of water like a shaggy dog before refilling and doing the same for me. He cleaned out my wounds cause I got the worst of it, careful not to irritate the wounds too much.

We filled up our two bottles to the brim. I wanted to stay in that little space forever, wait until the end of the games, but it was probably going to be impeded on soon if we didn’t move on. Neither of us were fond of the idea of contaminating this nice lake with blood.

We jumped up, wondering how the fuck we were going to get back. We looked to the way we came from and to our bewilderment, the entrance to the path was only part that had no squirrels guarding it. They peered at us, almost calmed down, blinking slowly at us. I took a step forward and they stayed still. I took another, they didn’t even make a noise. Cautiously we followed the exact way we came, careful to not take a step outside. They trailed along behind us, watching curiously. I came to the conclusion that the reward of getting to the lake was getting a safe passage back, it would kind of suck to have the squirrels just bite people to death.

The way back “home” was fairly quiet, but a lot lighter than the trip to oasis was. The water and adrenaline trip had helped clear away unhelpful thoughts. I swung my arms, blowing raspberries like a child. Levi rolled his eyes and tried to hide his smile like he has always done. We counted back to the right tower, the sun was in full force now, beating down at us from straight above.

Only a dozen metres from the front door of our tower the ground began to shake and tremble. I nearly fell, Levi gripped onto my shoulder, not letting me fall victim to gravity.

“What the fuck is going on?” I yelled, not caring about the volume of my voice anymore, it barely being heard over the rumble.

Then out of nowhere, sand began to rise, or rather, or maybe additionally, the towers began to shrink down into the earth. We ran to our tower, busting through the door, racing up the stairs as sand poured in, chasing us up. I was close on Levi’s heels, my eyes bulged when I realised we had stupidly left stuff behind. I steered off the stairs and into our room, clambering my hands to our flashlights and stupid knickknacks into my bag.

Levi’s feet became louder again, when to his horror, saw I wasn’t following him anymore. He held himself against the door frame. A canon sounded in the air.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He shouted.

“Getting our shit-”

“It doesn’t matter, fucking come on!”

I put the last tube of sunscreen into my bag and stood up, sand was up to my ankles now. He grabbed me by the hand and pulled me through the rapidly rising sand. When Hanji said that sand was a bitch to run in, she wasn’t lying. He pulled me up the stairs, sending me flying up several steps at a time. Scraped knees were a problem for later. The sand was at my thighs now and reached his ankles. Another canon fired.

“You’re an idiot!” he barked over his shoulder.

“I’m well aware!”

He slammed open the hatch with the hilt of his sword, making it bang on the roof. He climbed out, reaching back down to lift me out by the armpits out of the sand trapping me from the waist down. We breathed in and out, shaking sand from our shoes and clothes. The earth stopped trembling and I peered around us. It was now an entirely flat desert, all the tops of rooves now level with the ground. I could see a few people dotted far away from us.

And to our left, maybe only a dozen buildings away, was an unmistakable group of six. I inhaled sharply when I saw they were looking right our way.

Oh for fuck's sake.

.

.

.

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[heli0s-writes]

One Constant

Summary:  It's been five years without Bucky. You and Steve travel to Vormir for the Soulstone to bring him back.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

A/N: 3.5K word count. Post-Endgame. Angsty!

It’s absolutely insane the lengths Steve Rogers would go to in order to save the ones he loves. He is feeling this sentiment now as you clutch his hand in one and grip the edge of your seat with the other, warping at top speed into the depths of inky black space. Kaleidoscopic lights zoom by, and he feels dizzy just thinking about the fact that he is traveling through space.

But just a few moments ago, he had traveled through time, so space could have well been a logical next step.

If he is feeling nervous, or possibly about to vomit, he doesn’t show it.

He only grips your hand a little tighter, strokes the bone-white knuckles of your fist a little slower, leans over and kisses you a bit harder.

“We got it, baby.” He soothes, “He’ll be back soon.”

“I swear to God, Steve, if he isn’t, I will personally remove every single one of Thanos’ teeth with my bare fucking hands.”

Steve grins and brings your palm to his lips, kissing the creases. He knows you well enough to trust in your promise. Vormir lies only a half hour away as they reach their destination and descend slowly into the rusty red atmosphere.

You strap the sleek black Ka-Bar to your thigh, fingers running over the handle lovingly, as if you were touching a part of him. And in some ways, you are. It’s one small reminder the two of you have had for five years. His favorite knife. A reminder of the love lost in the snap.

For the first year, you refused to even say his name. You railed against any possible attempt to return your days to normalcy, and even frustrated Steve on nights when you’d stumble through the empty compound completely in shambles, gripping that Ka-Bar, slamming it into the wall, livid and drunk, screaming and crying.

A part of him felt a little sting of jealousy and curiosity. He wondered if you would have cared this much if it was him that had been lost.

The same part of him also felt ashamed because at the end of every episode, you would be curled up on the floor, or in the bed, or sometimes in the shared closet, hugging Bucky’s clothes, repeating the same broken phrase to his ghost.

Come back. Come back to us. Come back to us, please.

Us, not me.

Steve would wrap his arms around you, pull you close, tell you he’s got you now.

Even though he’s clean shaven and carefully coiffed, a picture-perfect representation of his moniker, even though he leads sermons at the VA about moving on and forward, he knows a part of him would never let Bucky go. You would never let him.

Steve isn’t only saving Bucky on this journey; Steve is also saving you.

 “Steve.” You whisper, “Steve.” A little firmer the second time. “I love you.”

Then you’re in his lap, forgoing your own seat and squeezing him so tightly his breath gets lodged in this throat. “Don’t go, too. Promise me.”

Steve wraps his arms around you, the lover he always dreamed of having—sweeter than sugar, doe-eyed, a goddess in human form, one part of the third of his heart. You and Bucky had been so close, even in your shared relationship—he always felt a little left out. Even though it was him first. Even though Bucky came later.

The ship whirrs mindlessly forward, autopilot on, technology beyond his understanding steering itself. You shake in his arms. “Take it off.” You mutter, suddenly clawing at his suit, fingers desperate to find his buckles and zippers.

“Take it off, Steve!”

He does as he’s told, albeit confusedly, but soon enough he’s stripped down and you are shedding your clothing too, straddling his waist with frantic breaths.

“I want to fuck.”

“Sweetheart—“

“Now. Steve.”

He always lets you have what you want. Against the backdrop of inky darkness and muted far off stars, swirling planets colored in shades he doesn’t know how to name, you palm him and glide on top.

There are tears in your eyes when you lean your head on his shoulder. “I miss him.” You sob, “I miss him so much.”

“I know.” Steve kisses you deeply, rocks up into you until you shudder all over. He presses his lips to your eyes and cheeks, traces the line of salt down to your chin, and rolls deep strokes of his cock in and out until you both come.

“I love you.” You sigh against his neck, landing a chaste kiss to the lobe of his ear.

It’s been like this for five years, oscillating between tender and torn, high and low, and not much in-between. Before the snap, you had been their shy girl, lover not a fighter, even though your hands could crush granite. Pressed between them in a feverish haze, you were still soft, and they were gentle as a result.

They would always be gentle with you. Even Bucky, who had the pent-up sexual energy of an animal in rut. You would put his fingertips in your mouth, lick the pads with slow flicks of your tongue, and he would melt. Sugar, he’d croon, gorgeous girl, how’d we get so lucky?

Now, when Steve gets you into bed you put his hand to your neck and make him squeeze. You ask him to hurt you and he hates it.

You’re different. Things have changed.

The ship descends, blowing clouds of dust all around and Steve is so beyond thinking about this landscape that he doesn’t give a shit anymore about how they can even survive the atmosphere. Four boots trek on wordlessly until they reach the peak of the lonely jagged mountain.

A billowing cloak and gaunt cheeks appear.

“Schmidt.” Steve hisses, gearing back for a fight, but you put your hand up and step forward instead, that Ka-Bar already in your hand.

“Don’t fuck with me, Skeletor. You know what I want.”

-

He’s a self-sacrificing asshole and he almost killed you to launch himself off the cliffside. The crack of his skull echoes and is smothered by your shrieking hundreds of feet above the site of his death.

“No! You fucking promised! You fucking promised you wouldn’t fucking leave!” You howl and howl and slam your fists into the rock until it cracks and crumbles into dust.

Those will be the last words he’ll ever hear. Your throat gone raw and the venom and disappointment and hurt inside of you sputtering out wet with blood.

You launch yourself at Schmidt and pass right through his shadow.

“Superhuman or not,” his voice is a ghostly warble, “You cannot kill me. I am free now to roam and leave this planet.” The tight skin peels back to reveal his teeth.

Your head is falling apart. Both of them, gone, and even if the stone will be used to bring one back, you’ll live again with a piece of your heart missing. The tears blur everything, turning it into one giant blotch of orange. The speck of red and murky black stills and whips around, in shock.

“What-- how?”

You wipe your eyes as Schmidt peers over the edge. The planet rumbles and shakes, wailing an ear-splitting shriek and your head spins until there’s nothing left but the pounding of your brain rattling loose.

It’s wet when you wake up. Water laps over your face and for a second you forget where you are, how you ache, but when it rushes back the sea feels like tears.

There is no stone in your clutch.

But there is something else. Soft. Small. Delicate bones and skin so pale, it could be a child’s.

Steve’s right hand reaches over his torso, shrunken, now too small to fit rightly in his suit and it wrinkles and warps around him. The gangly fingers open and reveal the amber gem, shimmering against the darkness of the water and your eyes.

“You’re alive.” You rasp. “You’re here.”

“I-I’m back... t-to before...” He’s half in awe and in shock. There is a disappointment that mars his brow and tilts his mouth down deep until it looks like it could fall off his chin. His hands pat his chest, pulls the bunched Kevlar and neoprene away from him. “I--” Steve clenches his jaw.

You’ll never see him the same again. He’s different now. You’ve never known or loved this version of him. It’ll be just you and Bucky, like he’s always thought and feared. Steve’s mind flies a mile a minute, swirling in self-hatred and pain.

How could you look at him like this? Tiny, fragile, sickly thing that he’s been before. He’ll be invisible again, sinking into the backdrop, eclipsed once more by James Buchanan Barnes’ tall frame and fine figure. You’ll never--

You leap into his arms, knock him backwards with a splash. “Thank god!” You cry, dripping salt down his face, soft lips trailing all over him. “Oh, fuck, baby.”

If he wasn’t so stubborn, you’d pick him up, but instead you settle on dragging him by the wrist back to the ship where you tear off the stupid too-large suit from him, push him on the smooth floor and giggle as the engine rumbles back to life.

The jerk of the ship taking flight smashes his chest into yours. Steve burns red with embarrassment and tries to push you off, but you won’t budge.

He’s too weak now, something that turns him almost purple with shame.

“S-stop— I’m--”

“Don’t fuck with me, Rogers.” You hold his wrists down, “I still love you, no matter what you look like. I love you, you little asthmatic shit.” You kiss him and undress and he’s baffled, heart hammering in its cage- short of breath and wheezing. Your hands make quick work of him and he’s hard like a rock when your mouth goes south.

“Still the same down here, baby.”  

When he comes a stuttering, blubbering, mess all over your stomach, Steve’s eyes roll so far back he thinks he needs to add blindness to his list of ailments.

-

Bucky’s head is wrenched backwards as soon as you find him over the hill. Among the chaos and terror of an enormous battlefield, aliens screeching, guns and blasters, and sizzling ancient magic, you leap, legs wrapped around his torso and kiss him with too much tongue.

“Shit, baby!” He laughs before ducking down, taking you with him, “Fuck! Can ya save it for later?”

You’re different. Your once-blue suit is black and your eyes are painted all the way up to your brow with soot colored shadow, reminiscent of the way he used to as Soldat. Usually, your hair is pulled back and away from your face, but now it hangs all around, whipping over your cheeks with the wind. You look fearsome.

And, God he thinks, you’re beautiful. Although you might have once been a pink and blushing rose, you’re now suddenly bleeding red and silky, overgrown with thorns, still beautiful.

Then, his head turns back and forth, “Wh-where is he?”

You smile shyly and kiss him on the cheek while readjusting the strap of his gun. For a brief second you look like the pink flower again.

“Don’t worry,” You say, “He’s okay. He’s got to sit this one out, but I told him I’d bring him back two presents.”

Bucky squints.

“Two?”

-

Jesus fucking Christ on a stick Bucky’s heart is going to drop right out of his ass. You are straddling Thanos’ neck with your thighs. The Titan—the semi-god or whatever he is—you are on top of him and wrenching his jaw open.

Bucky doesn’t know if he should scream or cry or faint.

Next to him, Danvers is matching his expression. “What the hell?” She breathes and he has no fucking idea. Mantis is shrieking and you are shrieking right back.

“Don’t be a pussy! Hold the motherfucker!”

Bucky could cross himself right now because their sweet girl, their angel, is digging into Thanos’ mouth with his Ka-Bar and pulling her hand back out drenched in blood.

-

Afterwards, you’re still sticky. The blood coats all five fingers but you skip past the ash and dust and grab his face with your hand and plant another kiss on him. Wilson shakes his head, mutters about how it used to be the other way around and a part of Bucky abruptly catches up to the truth.

You are different. You’re hard and lethal and it hurts him so much to think that he wasn’t there. The fact that he wasn’t there is all he can think about. His absence left you raw and moldable. It must have hurt so much, for their girl to transform from satin to steel.

“Come on,” You say with a grin he’s never seen before, “Let’s go get Steve.”

And then it hurts differently. The guilt starts eating him through his stomach and up his throat because Steve has been with you all this time, watching helplessly—all because Bucky got dusted. It must have killed Steve to see you crumble and rebuild into who you are now. Killed him to not be able to do a damn thing. Killed him for five years, even though Bucky is the one who died.

-

Back at the compound, Steve sits nervously in the shared room, chews on every inch of his mouth until the skin hangs from his lip and then he chews it off, too. It used to smell like all three of you: brisk pine and cedar with the faint drift of freesia.  

A part of it still does, dusky and sweet, but salty too. Acrid, if he breathes too deeply. Stinging and dark, like bourbon.

Huh. Steve thinks, maybe he’ll have a drink. Now that he can again.

 By the time you swing the door open, Steve is piss drunk and wheezing sprawled out on the floor. Bucky’s breath lodges in his throat as you stumble over to Steve’s collapsed body.

“What the fuck!” You cry, patting him down, checking his pulse.

“S-Stevie?” Bucky breathes, “Is that you, pal?”

With a shuddering breath, you turn around and show him your teeth, a wet laugh springing forward, “We— we had to go.. to Vormir. Get the damn stone back in time and— I could have died.”

Steve wheezes again, “Wouldn’t have let you.” He hiccups, fingers lazily reaching up to poke you in the nose. “Nope.”

He pops the p.

Bucky steps cautiously forward, resurrected only hours ago and has no idea what Vormir is. Nor does he care. All he sees are his lovers, transmuted entirely by their loss— by their love for him.

It’s all changed. Everything is different and terribly new. You wipe the dark streak from your eyes and wipe Steve’s face too as Bucky stands speechless. The two of you together, leaned against each other on the floor. Bucky thinks, how many nights did this happen? How long did his two lovers suffer and cry for him?

Softly, he pads forward, kneels, and takes each hand into his. “I love you. Both of you.”

Steve looks away and so do you, nostrils flaring to hold back the torrent of tears threatening to explode. “I’m sorry.” Bucky whispers, kissing your cheek and then Steve’s feeling the sharp bone of him through the face he had known so well long ago. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

The room is so still Bucky’s afraid he might be getting dusted again, back into that terrible split second where the world stops, and he knows nothing else but the speck of sand suspended in motion. Then, a snort.

“The hell’re you sorry for? S’not like you wanted to turn into dust. Or ash. What’s another—hm. Baby powder. Buck, ya got baby powder-ed.”

Even though he’s small and asthmatic again, Steven Grant Rogers is undeniably more of a little shit than ever. It doesn’t help that he’s drunk as a skunk, breath spicy warm with the heady draught of liquor.

To his right, you laugh and ruffle his hair. Steve flinches at your touch and pulls away with a scowl. You freeze and glare right back at him, grabbing his shoulder until he winces, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” You hiss. “He’s back. He’s right here and what the fuck, Steve?”

“Yeah.” Steve grunts, shrugging off your hand, “He’s back. So be with him. Be with him like you’ve wanted to for the last five years.”

Bucky watches the tension roil in waves, emanating from your bared teeth and Steve’s downcast eyes. He doesn’t know when to step in or how to begin to stop the train wreck unfolding in front of him. Steve is piss drunk and pissed off—haven’t had a drink probably since 1942 and is completely off his rocker. You look like you’re ready to snap his neck like a pretzel stick.

It scares Bucky.

It scares him when you dig into your pocket and pull out the tooth he watched you wrench from Thanos earlier. For whatever blessed or cursed reason, it remains as it is, enormous like a half-dollar, shining dully and crusted with Titan blood.

“Here’s this, asshole.” The tooth bounces off Steve’s sternum with a dull thud, landing in his lap. Then you take Bucky’s old Ka-Bar and throw it at Steve, too. “And here’s this, you self-flagellating shithead.”

Bucky winces at your words. He’s never heard them before. Ever. Tears well up in your eyes.

“If you hadn’t come back on that dusty ass planet, I would have thrown myself off too. Fuck the stone. Fuck Earth and Vormir and fuck everyone else, too. I would have died with you.” A choked sob escapes as you glare into the side of Steve’s face, suddenly pinched with embarrassment, “You’re an idiot.”

Bucky sighs in relief when Steve looks up and leans forward onto your shoulder, resting his golden head against you. “Sorry, baby.” He mutters, “I just—I hate… this. I’m not… Captain America anymore. I’m just… Steve.”

Bucky starts to laugh, despite the moment. He laughs and leans back until he slips off his knee and foot and falls back on his bottom. You and Steve turn, bewildered at the sound of him, slight smirks on both of your faces because regardless of it all, Bucky is alive, and he is happy.

“Captain America was an asshole.” Bucky exhales, mirth in his eyes, “Tightwad. Stick so far up there he was chokin’ on it.”

Steve sputters an indignant response.

“I like you much better.” Bucky says, leaning forward and placing his hand on Steve’s jaw, pressing a soft kiss onto his swollen red lips. “This guy… dumb Brooklyn kid who didn’t know when to give up.”

“That’s not the quote goes.” Steve hiccups, drawing from an old memory. His head hangs low, embarrassed at himself, leaning into the warmth of Bucky’s palm.

“Well, I wasn’t there in the forties, but I like this new quote just fine.” You grin, reaching forward to smooth Steve’s disheveled hair back. “You done?”

He nods, reaches out and takes your hand and you return his gesture with a light squeeze.

Bucky grins at his two lovers, sitting cross-legged on the floor. One, who used to be soft, hardened like diamonds, and one, reverted completely... but to Bucky, Steve hasn’t changed at all. He was telling the truth when he said this version of Steve was his favorite.

Five years and the changes have stripped all he’s known away—the transformation of the lives around him makes Bucky sigh with uneasiness. He can’t help it. He feels like he’s always in a state of falling asleep and waking up to an entirely new world.

Steve kisses your mouth, kisses Bucky too. The three of you share quiet gazes at one another before you begin to unhook your vest and look at him behind long lashes. Your hands work nimbly, just like he remembers. Steve strokes your arm, guides Bucky forward to help you with your clothes. That’s familiar too.

Bucky smiles and presses his lips to the apples of your cheeks. Still soft.

“Did you miss us?” Steve asks, steering him further, “Buck?”

“Yeah. I did.”

You moan faintly into his mouth, strip down until you’re naked and then move to help Steve, too. Bucky watches in awe of those deft movement, swallowing when both bodies are revealed to him in the lamplight glow of the bedroom.

When he sheds his clothes to match, he can’t help but smile at the two faces contemplating back at him.

Maybe some things are different now, Bucky thinks. But the love is still the same.

You and Steve run your hands all over his body, kiss him everywhere your lips can touch. Bucky blooms all over with heat and electricity. He melts into twenty fingers and two hot mouths.

Yeah. The love is still the same. And it is so goddamn good.

--

taglist: @whothehellisbucky @serpentbaby @badassbaker @alagalaska @cake-writes @crist1216 

[writerfromtheshore]

Caravans in the Desert Night

Hearing the growl of his Hapaka hound, Golyo stirred in his sleep. Looking around in the darkness he saw the room was empty except for himself and the hound in the middle of the night. Rising from his cot, the Po-Matoran caught a glimpse of the stars outside his window, glimmering in the black sky.

Yet for as peaceful as the desert looked, something was amiss. Screams of Rahi bleated into the night. Donning a cloak and grabbing a hand sized canister, Golyo headed outside to see what was the matter at this hour. The Hapaka followed closely.

The Mahi pen was a bustle of activity. The steeds jumped around in the wider enclosure, having left their home stalls. They let out bleating yells as they rammed themselves against the rails.

Bashing against the rails they stood on their hind legs and let out bleating yells. Golyo listened with worry as he heard hearing coming from the frantic animals. Reaching into the canister, the Po-Matoran produced a lightstone, raising it above his mask to bathe the Rahi in light. The Mahi, startled even more by the sight of the bright light, screamed louder. Taking a step toward the steeds, Golyo grabbed hold of one and held it against the rail in an attempt to calm it down.

“Shush, Shhhh,” Golyo said, incorporating Mahi-like grunts into the conversation. At his touch its frantic bucking calming somewhat. Golyo continued to pet the one Mahi, letting the soft glow of the lightstone wash over it.

Until the lightstone began to flicker.

The lightstone faded, taking away the light from the pen for just a moment before returning. Golyo had sworn he had only blinked. But it happened again, and then the Po-Matoran grew concerned.

Lightstones never faded. No matter what a lightstone never lost its glow. A campfire would change with the way the wind blew, but a lightstone was always consistent in its glow. Golyo frowned at the stone.

Darkness surrounded him before the lightstone’s glow returned again. Golyo looked around, finding himself in the pen. He had no idea how he had gotten in there— he had certainly not climbed in. All of the Mahi stood at the walls of the pen, looking at him with their own manner of worry.

Another Matoran stood across from Golyo, smiling at him from the dark beyond the stone’s light.

“Mata Nui!” he cried, spooked by the newcomer’s sudden appearance. “Who are you?”

“No one,” they said in a voice that was not a Matoran’s. Golyo’s eyes went wide with shock, before the stone extinguished and darkness engulfed him.

When the light returned to the crystal again, Golyo was no longer in the pen. He stood outside the door to his home, looking out at night before him. His Hapaka cowered beside him.

The screams of the panicked Mahi were gone. The Mahi themselves were gone. The night was quiet.

***

What Aft could not shake was how dirty the Po-Matoran’s masks were. The Kanohi of his caravan escorts— and even some of their armor— were coated in grime, even rusted in some places. As they rode out of Ta-Koro the Ta-Matoran eyed the escorts, wondering how they could be so unbothered by it.

The Ta-Matoran know he could not speak to be better. Lava farming was no clean job— there were many harvesting weeks when the smoke was so thick that it stained black the usual crimson of the Ta-Koran’s crimson armor. There was something about these caravaners’ own armor and masks though that seemed more than dirty to Aft.

Aft had been told many times before his departure by the Ta-Koro Guard to keep his guard up on his trip. The journey was perilous, and it was essential that he get himself—and the tools they were trading to the Po-Matoran for—back to the village of fire safely. The Wahi was a dangerous place, they had reminded him, where a Matoran could easily be ambushed and dragged off into the shadows. Many Rahi lurked outside the gates of the village, deep under the control of the Makuta.

Yet as they went down the road going from Ta-Wahi through Ga-Wahi, Aft found the night rather quiet and peaceful. He looked hard out into the dark, listening for the sound of beasts in the night amongst the wooded area. But he heard and saw nothing but the night, much to his displeasure, and glowered harder into the darkness. He took the word of the Guard seriously. There was definitely something out there, he was certain, just waiting to pounce.

“You seem on edge tonight,” one of the Matoran said to Aft.

“Just keeping a lookout,” the lava farmer replied.

“That is not something you should worry about,” replied the Matoran from atop his Dikapi. “We are not traveling dangerous roads.”

“The Ta-Koro Guard has been ambushed many a night by the beasts in hiding,” said Aft, unsure if he were to believe his host.

The Po-Matoran laughed. “Your Guard’s stories are somewhat exaggerated,” he said. “They tend to be spooked by anything in the shadows beyond their torches.”

Another Po-Matoran came up beside them on his Dikapi. “We night riders have different ways of dealing with Rahi beasts.”

Aft farmed lava all night on a regular basis, so being up at this hour was nothing new to him. However, he could not help but feel tired tonight, almost as if he were weary from a hard shift. Slouching in the caravan, He let his eyes close for a single second as this strange adventure in the night overcame him.

***

It was colder when Aft awoke. It wasn’t cold, but usual Ta-Koro heat which usually surrounded him was gone. The drop in temperature was a shock to his system and had awakened him.

Picking himself up off of the floor of the caravan, he looked outside. He was immediately met with the whipping winds as the cold desert night air blow across his face. Aft wanted to retreat into the shelter of the canvased caravan as the wind whistled through the holes in his mask. But he remained out there, wondering where his Po-Matoran escorts had gone.

The caravan was parked far from any path Aft could identify. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, the Ta-Matoran was able to see an outcropping of rocks. Trees and the usual shrubbery between Ta- and Ga- Wahi were gone. He was somewhere far away from either village, somewhere out in the Motara Desert.

Firelight flickered beyond the caravan and the surrounding rock formation. Climbing down from the shelter of the caravan, Aft began to weave towards the light.

He came into a clearing amongst the rocks, the inside of a ring of boulders where the wind could not reach. A campfire crackled in the center of it. The Po-Matoran escorts were conversing quietly as they sat around the flames.

“Look who is awake, boys,” one of the Matoran called. All eyes went towards Aft. Several of the Matoran grinned as they caught sight of the groggy Ta-Matoran.

“Where are we?” Aft asked.

“Po-Wahi, a few hours above Ga-Koro,” said a Hau-wearing Po-Matoran. We are riding a few more hours north, and then we will cut west toward Po-Koro.”

“Why are we so far north?” asked Aft. “Is there a blockade? What is keeping us from getting through there and getting to the village sooner?”

“More like a living blockade,” said another Matoran. “The route requires us to take the long way to Po-Koro. If you want to walk straight to Po-Wahi and through the Den, be our guest. But I think my night brothers and I will chose this way.”

“So the Ta-Koro Guard isn’t wrong,” Aft said. “There are dangerous Rahi out there.”

“And we have survived every one of them we have come across,” said the Hau-wearing Matoran. “What has got you so scared of Rahi? Come across a nasty Kane-Ra or something?”

“I almost became lava bones after a pack of Husi attacked a lava field once,” told Aft. “Another time I spend two weeks recovering from Kofo Jaga stings. It is part of the job, but the attacks are unexpected and frightening.”

“Reasonable fears,” one of the Po-Matoran agreed.

“Do you come into any close encounters with Rahi out here?” asked Aft.

“We have been upended by sand Tarakava,” said the Pakari wearer of the group. “Stampeded on by Kikinalo. Once I was beat within an inch of my life when I crossed the cave of a Stony Spine Ape.”

“And the mutated Rahi too,” said another Matoran. “They’re quite a treat.”

“…Mutated Rahi?” Aft asked. “You’re just messing with me now.”

The Hau-wearing Matoran shook his head. “Some are twisted versions of Mahi, Tunnelers to name a few. Others are unidentifiable and shoot wheels of energy at you. But there are sick twisted things out there.”

“What could mutate a Rahi?” Aft was equal parts horrified and entranced now.

“No one knows,” said the Hau wearer. “But they are out there.”

“Some believe that they are freaks,” said the second Po-Matoran. “Others think that it is the work of Makuta. He takes the Rahi from their nests, and experiments on them until they are just ugly monsters.”

Aft grew quiet, watching his escorts with skepticism. They stared back at him with small smiles. Firelight and shadows flickered along their masks, and Aft grew uncomfortable. They were not kidding.

“We keep away from them by moving on,” said the Hau- wearing Matoran. “So we better get going, lest we wake any critters around here.”

Aft nodded, breathing a sigh of some relief. The others extinguished the fire, leaving only a small torch alight. The Ta-Matoran hastily led the procession back to the caravan, listening to the dirt crunch under his feet.

It only took him a moment to realize his footsteps were the only ones.

He turned around to see the Po-Matoran behind him, staring stone faced at him. The one whom held the torch gripped it noticably tightly.

“What is the matter?” asked Aft, somewhat worried.

The Po-Matoran’s voice was grave. “Whatever you do, do not make any sudden movements,” he said.

Something tapped Aft on the shoulder. Only then was he aware of the acute movement of somethings crawling up his shoulder. Fear shot through him. He felt something touch his mask.

“They are called Kanohi crackers,” said one Matoran. He pulled a knife out of his belt ever so slowly. “They’re a weird scorpion that like the protodermis in the mask. If you are really really still I can get it off…”

The Matoran was rushing at him, and Aft was on his back. Something hissed in his face, and Aft felt a sharp pain right above his mouth. Another pain on his cheek. Then the other cheek. The rapping pains came again and again, until something moved, and Aft felt a massive drain of energy from his body.

One moment he was seeing everything clearly. The next everything was so fuzzy. He could see the black night of the sky, the fire flickering on the torch. But they were just blurs of color to Aft’s eyes. Around him, he could hear the Po-Matoran cursing and arguing, but he was only comprehending every few words. Aft could not tell where was going or the scene around him.

He felt a dragging. Something was hoisting him up.

“It is only a temporary mask,” a voice said. “One of our spares.” Aft heard, but did not understand. With his mask gone he rapidly into shutting down. “We were planning on getting to this place by morning, but I guess we have to get going and get you a real mask. If we do not get you there you will be spewing gibberish coding by the sunrise.”

***

During the day work on the silent ranch was almost peaceful. Almost.

But when the shadows of twilight began to crawl along the ranch was when Golyo began to feel unsettled.  Dusk would come, and the statues around the establishment seemed to be looking down at him. The blank eyes of the Matoran statues, even the slits of the Mata Nui stones, seemed to become filled with a life of their own, a life that silently watched him. The Po-Matoran would feel a tingling along his spine as the presence surrounded his home, and although he could rarely prove it, he knew he was not alone.

As Golyo coiled up a rope on this afternoon, he could feel the stares begin, and that he was not alone. I need some sort of charm to carve these statues with, Golyo thought to himself. Some new strategy to which he cannot get into the stone.

“What is required of me?” Golyo asked into the air. He could feel the dark presence behind him.

“Visitors,” a growling, rumbling voice said. Golyo did not turn, unwilling to see who was speaking. The voice shook the air around them. “They are on their way from the south, and will be here in the morning. Host them. And give them thissss.”

It was just before midnight when Golyo heard them coming. They knocked on his doorway grinning, knowing something was about to happen. In between two of them was a maskless Ta-Matoran, barely conscious and hardly hanging on to the Po-Matoran that supported him.

“You have the mask?” one of them asked. Reluctantly, Golyo nodded.

They laid the Ta-Matoran down in the center of the room. Candles burnt low, a deep orange flickering around the body. Golyo swore he saw dark fingers in the shadows of the flame, dancing across the lava farmer’s body.

“You are early,” Golyo said to the caravan escorts. “I thought you were coming in the morning.”

“We had a run in,” said one of them. “Our timetable was escalated.”

“A Kanohi Cracker spider got too close to him” said another of the escorts. “It came upon the Ta-Matoran, and we wanted to make no haste in getting here.”

Golyo glowered at the mention of the Rahi. A easy pawn in their game, he knew. Grabbing hold of the mask the caravaners were promised, he raised it above his head as to smash it on his floor.

“Why should I help you?” he asked them. “This villager deserves none of this. Why torture him like this? Why don’t I smash this mask to pieces?”

Golyo felt a sudden burning in his hand. He dropped his arm, feeling a terrible pain rip through the limb. The metal seemed to warp, crushing the muscle underneath and burning in such a way he could hardly scream in agony from…

But an instant later, his hand was normal, as if nothing happened. Golyo shook his head, confused and frightened.

One of the caravan runners, eyes glowing yellow below his dark Mahiki, looked deep into Golyo’s gaze.

“It is much easier to obey,” he said, offering his own hand. Upon close inspection, the hand was mangled, fused and corroded in a seemingly painful fashion. Travelling up the Matoran’s arm were markings and burns of what exactly the Mahi herder was certain the pain of that vision would have ended in. Golyo looked at it astounded. The Po-Matoran nodded, his cohorts looking in unison at the herder.

The Mahi herder stared tight lipped. “Why can’t one of you do it?”

“Our duty is to bring him to you,” said the Hau masked Matoran. “We are simply caravan runners.”

Golyo glowered. There was no getting out of this.

The Ta-Matoran still sat on the floor, barely functioning. Kneeling above his head, Golyo steadied the mask, and set it down upon the Matoran’s face. Mata Nui forgive me, he thought to himself. I am sorry to sentence you to this fate, fire spitter. But I have no choice. As he watched it click on, he fought every urge to rip the thing off and shatter it to pieces. If they were serious, then screwing this up for them would not bode well for him.

Aft opened his eyes. He sat up slowly, feeling the energy flow back into his form as he felt the mask on his face. He last remembered being around the campfire with the Po-Matoran, and now he was here. He had felt utterly awful, but now as he rose, whatever mask on his face now, he felt much better. And looking at the caravaners, whom he felt he could not trust before, he felt as if he were on the same page now.

“How do you feel?” one of the Matoran asked him.

Aft nodded, rising from the floor. He moved with motions that were not his own, as if he were a puppet on strings. A wordless grin grew on his new Kanohi.  

Satusfied with the worrk, the party filed out of Golyo’s hut, leaving Golyo alone.

“Never again,” the Mahi herder swore. “Find someone else to do your disgusting rituals.”

Then you will not see your Mahi herd, a voice growled around him. Golyo jumped, looking around with worry. He did the deeds the shadows and the voices asked of him, yet he could not escape. What was he to do?

“What will you do with him?” Golyo asked into the night.

He was answered by nothing but the whisper of the night wind blowing by.

***

The day at the bazaar was busy, but not busy enough for Ahkmou to not notice Golyo enterinh the the town square. It had been a decent hour’s trek to the village square on a cart pulled by a Mahi. Without his Rahi to pull him the journey had taken the better part of the morning.

Golyo approached the bazaar, pulling his widgets from his pack.

“What is it today?” the stall trader asked him. Golyo pointed to a few trinkets and necessary supplies, to which the bazaar piled for him.

“It looks like you are going out for some wrangling,” said the bazaar. “And by the looks of how you got here I would say you have lost your herd.”

“My Mahi are elsewhere, yes,” said Golyo. He glowered at the bazaar. Ahkmou’s comments on the surface were always sincere, but many Matoran knew under the surface that he liked to deliver cheap jibes.

“Well I wish you best of luck in your wrangling,” Ahkmou said. He then gestured to a nearby pen of Rahi. “If you need some luck though, can I interest you in a lucky Ghekula? They are a Rahi from the jungles of Le-Wahi. The Le-Korans swear up and down their jungle trees they these are helpful in getting luck to manifest. My sales have been through the roof since I started carrying them. Your herd could be back to you before you know it!”

“I sense that my Hapaka would not get along with that thing,” the Mahi herder said, turning away. “I will pass.”

Ahkmou shrugged. “Your loss then,” Ahkmou said. “But… for the price of the Rahi, I can tell you where he took them.”

Golyo paused, then turned back to the trader. Ahkmou simply smiled at him. Golyo looked back with slight concern. Did he know about the dark spirit? If so, what did he know?

Golyo pushed half of the asking price on the table. “If I like what I hear, you get the rest,” he said to Ahkmou.

“There is a canyon,” Ahkmou said. “Which lost things have been known to pass through in the night. You may want to show there tonight. For the rest of the price I can arrange a ride. There is caravan, a good supplier of mine, that can drive you to the canyon. You may have seen them before, they actually pass your way quite frequently.”

Golyo did not like what he heard, the concern in his eyes quickly turning to fear. But he passed over the last remaining widgets anyway, wanting this nightmare to be over.

Ahkmou grinned, ecstatic about the money on his table. “You pass through there and make it out in one piece, and he might even leave you alone,” the bazaar said with a wink.

***

The Hapaka hound started to growl as it sensed something outside the hut that night. Golyo’s hand on its head did little to comfort it. Ever since the Mahi had disappeared and voices started sounding around the ranch, the hound had been on edge. It did not like nightly visits by those weirdly masked Matoran. Something was not right about them, the Hapaka knew.

The Hapaka’s master looked at it, grim faced, and then set off to the door.

The Matoran all grinned wordlessly in the doorway. Golyo looked at them, but they stared back glassy eyed.

“You will take me to my Rahi?” Golyo asked. The Po-Matoran leading the caravan nodded. “And you will leave me alone after this?”

“For a price,” he said in a voice that was not his.

“But I already paid Ahkmou,” Golyo said.

The Matoran shook his head. “There are different prices to pay than widgets,” they said to him.

Golyo pursed his lips, worried about what that could mean.

The Hapaka whimpered as its master went with the ones it did not like.

Golyo knew his Rahi were not tied up to some single post, but he had to know where the night caravan was taking him. There was something in his throat that he had to ask, that had to interrupt the sound of the dirt crunching as the caravan rode in the night.

“Where are we headed?” he asked.

“To get your Rahi,” the Hau masked Matoran said. “Hopefully they haven’t made their way too far into the Den.”

Golyo frowned. “The Den” was the nickname for a series of canyons out in Po-Wahi where numerous dangerous Rahi resided. Many beasts were said to make their dwelling throughout the canyon. Matoran always traded stories over campfires as to what they believed lurked in there. None were ever brave enough to take on a dare to go exploring there though. Some feared the stories were true. Others feared what they would find there was worse than any story they could imagine.

The Mahi herder regretted asking anything. Knowing where he was going now, Golyo sat stone faced, a few creeping thoughts going through his mind. He turned towards the open back of the caravan, taking what he thought might be one last look at the stars.

After a while the caravan came to a halt, having arrived at the entrance to the Den. The canyon mouth yawned before the group of Matoran, with nothing but darkness visible from either side. Hopping down, Golyo paced across the dirt before the entrance, nervous at his path before him.

“If I go through here, he will leave me alone?” he asked. But the caravan was gone, and he was the only one out in the desert. He spun in every direction, looking for the outline of the cart in the night. Not even tracks could be seen in the dirt. It was as if it had never been there.

The sudden disappearance alarmed him. Here Golyo was, in the middle of the desert by himself, wanting to do anything other than go into the dark canyon in front of him. But he knew that the key to his freedom was on the other end of the canyon. Only his two feet would take him there. Mata Nui, Great Spirit, if you can hear me, whatever they have planned for the Ta-Matoran, please keep him safe, he silently prayed.

Golyo was terrified as he stepped toward the darkness. He wanted to go screaming in the other direction. But as he walked, that sensation seemed to silence itself. The feeling of fear faded away as he was drawn to the canyon’s depths, like he was being pulled in. He stared into the darkness, feeling as though he could see something on the other side. His feet seemed to move on their own.

A shadow fell over him, and Golyo realized he could no longer see the stars. A further darkness had come over the canyon, surrounding him in shadow from all sides. Do not think about that, he told himself. Do not panic. Walk steady as far into the night as you can.

The ravine was quiet except for the footsteps of himself. The wind blowing through the desert could not be heard anywhere, even as close to the entrance as he still was. Keeping his breathing steady, he walked, keeping an ear out for anything creeping up on him.

The path narrowed as it went further into the canyon, the ground sloping up towards each enclosing wall. Boulders sat here and there, forcing him to weave his way off and back onto the path. Golyo kept his gaze forward as he walked, not looking at any movement he might catch a glimpse of around the wall.

After a long while, Golyo could spot something in the middle of the path ahead. Whatever it was did not move. He walked steadily toward it, breath baited. Had a Rahi finally come out into the night, sensing the Matoran? Was this it for him?

A pile of mechanical parts and bones littered the path. Golyo looked down on them, seeing the parts of his Mahi strewn about. The animals were strewn to pieces, utterly destroyed by whatever had gotten to them. Golyo kicked them around, a mix of emotions going through his head. He felt a loss for his Rahi, yes. But in his current predicament he was somewhat relieved. Having come through here probably sent the steeds to a far higher level of panic than which he could have controlled them. He could have never calmed down any portion of his herd and led it to safety, not without whatever lurked in these canyons finding them.

Determined to get on with his journey, he stepped forward over the bones. But his foot touched something liquid. Golyo stopped, and looked down to see a dark pool before him. He leaned down to examine it, touching the pool. Blood, most likely from the Mahi. Sitting crouched for a moment, he watched the pool sit in the dirt.

An idea struck him. If he did this, he thought, it might free him all the nonsense that brought him into this mess. Dipping his finger into the liquid, he grabbed a skull with another hand. Although he could not see what he was drawing, Golyo began to paint a symbol on the metal. He did not know what he was doing, but for some reason the symbol seemed to come clearly to him.

He did not stop after one. Grabbing another skull, he painted the symbol again, and again, until he had a number of skulls decorated in blood. He placed the Mahi skulls in a circle, and then painted the symbol in the center of the circle.

As he placed the last skull in the circle, Golyo suddenly felt an unseen pair of eyes staring at him.

“I hope this appeases you,” said Golyo. “And convinces you to leave me and my ranch alone.”

The ground rumbled. Golyo looked up. Well above him, at the top of the canyon, the moonlight shone. Before it a large winged creature flew up into the sky. For a moment he thought it was going to swoop back down and come his way. But it flew elsewhere beyond the canyon, cruising somewhere into the night. Golyo had never seen any Rahi with that hawk-like outline. He was fairly sure he did not want to know what it was.

As his sense of unease lessened, the moon shone brightly along the canyon. Golyo could see his path before him.

He continued to walk, hoping that he would soon find daylight, if not the desert plains outside of the canyon first.

[bazaarwords]

A (Very Long) Theater Glossary

I’ll be adding to this as I add chapters—please let me know if any terms aren’t clear, correct, or if I’m missing any!

(now alphabetized by chapter by the very awesome @osmriceu)

You can read the fic here, and find the glossary below the cut!

CHAPTER 1

Actor’s Equity: The theater actor’s union. An actor will accrue “points” mainly by being in productions under an Equity contract, or in theaters associated with the union. At a certain number of points, they will get their Equity card and be part of the union.

Assistant stage manager (ASM): The stage manager’s arms and legs. The amount of them is dependent on the size of the production, but often there are only two. They communicate with each other, members of the run crew and the stage manager over single-ear headsets, usually staying backstage to assist in the running of the show, as well as helping during rehearsals, with paperwork, and any other duties that may arise during the course of a production.

Black box: A type of theater, literally a room painted black on all sides, usually with a tension grid (will explain later) for hanging lights and curtains. Here, it is where they’re having their rehearsals, but it can also be used for shows. Some theaters will have multiple stages for rehearsals/multiple shows. Picture here.

Box office/box: Where audience members will get their tickets. Run by the box office manager (once Glimmer, now Micah.)

Cue: A trigger for an action, usually called by the stage manager. These are often scenery, lighting or sound cues, but there are many assorted cues that a stage manager may call depending on the needs of the production.

Curtain speech (the title of the chapter lol): Before a show, the director, artistic director of the theater, or other manager will speak on stage about the goings on in the theater and other events of import. It’s called a curtain speech because it usually happens in front of a curtain, but it doesn’t have to.

Fly rail: The area where a backstage crew member will pull ropes that raise and lower scenery/curtains/etc. Picture here.

Fly system: A series of counterweighted pulleys that allow scenery, soft goods (curtains, screens, etc), and even actors to be raised and lowered by a fly rail operator. The operator will pull ropes, usually at a stage manager’s cue, to do so. Diagram here.

Half-bricks/stage weights: Solid bricks of metal with grooves cut out of either end. Each is usually around 20lbs (~9kg.) Mostly used as counterweights to operate a fly system. Picture here.

“In the house”: Here, it refers to Bow working as an usher, directing audience members to their seats.

Lead: The lead actor/star of the show.

Lighting board/console: The device that programs and controls all lights used in a show. Manned by the light board operator. It is often moved out during technical rehearsals. Pictures here.

Loading rail: In theaters with a fly system, it is usually a second-floor catwalk along the side of a stage wall where someone can load weight on to the fly system to counterbalance it.

“Mid-stage coming in/going out”: Here, Scorpia is announcing that she’s using the fly system to bring a curtain down so it’s visible, and then back up to be hidden. Its location is important too (mid-stage,) as well as Entrapta’s acknowledgement of “thank you” because in the theater, as is the case anywhere, you don’t want a pipe coming down on your head. These call-and-responses are very common when working with dangerous technical elements.

Off-Broadway: Theaters specifically in Manhattan, New York City with an occupancy of between 100 and 499.

“Operating on blind”: Using the “blind” feature of a lighting board, which essentially allows you to program lights in the board without actually turning them on.

Principal’s dressing room: A private dressing room for the lead actor/star of the show/dumb jock lesbian.

Production booth: The room behind the audience where the stage manager operates the show from. Usually houses the lighting board and assorted lighting and sound equipment. Picture here.

Projections: Exactly what they sound like. Projection designers will often use parts of the set and even walls of the theater to project images on to, making solid pieces look animated. Picture here.

Scene shop foreman: The person in charge of safety and care of all crew and elements of the scene shop.

Set/shop crew: Carpenters and welders. The people responsible for building the scenery. They usually work out of a scene shop, where scenery pieces are built and housed until they are moved to the theater. This crew then installs the scenery on-location. This was one of my main jobs! :)

Spike tape: Usually very bright, comes in many colors. Used mainly on the floor of the stage to denote where furniture, set pieces, and other props will be on stage, so when there needs to be a shift in scenery, it can be set in the right place. Picture here.

Stage manager (SM): Essentially the liaison between all elements of a show. Runs rehearsals, keeps track of time, does paperwork, calls when the lights, sounds, and assorted other show elements happen during the show, among so many other things.

Tech crew: The technical crew responsible for all non-performance elements of the show. Carpenters, welders, lighting and sound technicians, the list goes on forever.

Technical director (TD): The person responsible for overseeing all technical elements of a show. Be it set building, lighting, sound, projections—they’re the boss and often the liaison between the different departments of tech.

The house: Where the audience sits.

Tie line: Thin black or white rope used mainly to attach curtains to pipes so they can be hung in the air.

Universe: In very simple terms, one universe is the 512 lights a lighting console with a single output can handle. More advanced boards have multiple outputs, and therefore can handle more than 512 lights.

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CHAPTER 2

Blocking: The positions and movements of actors on stage. Usually decided by a director or choreographer.

Fight captain: The cast member responsible for overseeing the choreography of fight scenes.

Ghost light: A light that is placed on the stage after everyone has left the theater. Meant to offer some light, as most theaters are very dark when empty, but also meant to help guide theater ghosts. ;)

Leko light: A type of stage light. Newer versions of this light are more commonly referred to as Source 4′s. Picture here.

Stage directions: Sections of text in the script that describe potential actor movement, scenery, lighting, and other effects and elements that are to exist within a given scene/moment. Also describe how lines are to be read (intent, volume, etc.) Often read by an ASM at a table read.

Table read: The gathering of director, actors, and management at a table where the script of the show is read out loud for the first time.

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CHAPTER 3

Contact sheet: A paper with contact information for everyone involved in a production.

Costume shop: Where all costumes are made/altered/and sometimes stored. Picture here.

Daily call: The list of actors required (or “called”) for a rehearsal. Usually placed on a call board (a cork board near where actors and crew enter the space,) where all pertinent information from stage management is posted for everyone to see.

Fitting sheet: Paperwork outlining each actor’s measurements, to be used when making costumes.

Green room: Essentially a break room for actors and crew. Sometimes actually painted green. Picture here.

Ground plan: A 2-dimensional diagram of the set from an aerial view. In a rehearsal space, it will be outlined in brightly-colored tape on the floor so actors can have an idea of where set pieces, stairs, and other objects will be on stage. Picture here.

Line notes: The first day rehearsals are conducted without the actors having access to their scripts is the first day ASMs will write down line notes. These are where the ASMs can keep track of a particular actor’s mistakes in regards to their lines. The actors are given these pages at the end of each rehearsal to brush up on problem sections.

Rehearsal report: Usually done by the stage manager or assistant stage manager, this is the log of what happened during any given rehearsal, along with notes for designers, length of rehearsal, and any other pertinent information.

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CHAPTER 4

A1: An audio engineer. Responsible for most setup and technical audio elements of a show. Communicates often with the sound designer and A2 (see next).

A2/“mic wrangler”: The person responsible for helping actors with microphones, and maintaining said microphones (batteries, sound checks, other general maintenance) for use in the show. This was also one of my jobs! :)

Cardinal stage/house directions (diagram here)

(Back)stage left/(back)stage right: Left and right from the perspective of someone onstage or backstage, facing the audience.

Downstage: Onstage, towards the audience.

House left/right: Left and right from the perspective of someone in the audience, facing the stage.

Upstage: Onstage, away from the audience.

Ear rig: A setup for a lavaliere mic (see definition) where the mic capsule and wire are attached to a piece of metal or plastic that goes around the ear of an actor. Example here.

“Giving notes”: In this context, after a rehearsal, the director will give the cast suggestions/direction that they might not have been able to implement during the rehearsal. Notes sessions can happen after the rehearsal is over. Notes can also be given to/received from the designers of the technical elements of the show (light, sound, costume, props, projections, set, etc.) 

Halo mic: A setup for a lavaliere mic (see below) where the mic capsule (picture here) rests at the center of an actor’s hairline. Example here.

House manager: The person responsible for opening the house to the audience, addressing patron concerns, and communicating with stage management.

Lavaliere mic/lav: A small, wireless microphone used by actors. Picture here.

Mic belt: An elastic belt with a pouch that holds the transmitter for an actor’s wireless mic. Picture here.

Mixing: Mixing a show involves adjusting sounds, adding effects, and raising/lowering the volume of all audio cues/music that will play during the show. In shows that have microphones that need to be adjusted manually during the course of the show, an audio engineer (A1) will use the mixing board to do this. This is known as “live mixing”. 

Prop master: The person in charge of acquiring/making all props in a show. This can range from small, handheld items, to pieces of furniture, to real food/other consumable items.

Run crew: The people that work backstage during a show. This usually refers to those crew members that move set pieces/props, but can pretty much refer to anyone backstage, doing anything. Usually under the supervision of an ASM. I worked on run crew for a bunch of shows—the longest for 8 months! :)

“Run cue thirty-six”: In lighting and sound programming, cues are numbered or lettered so that a stage manager can call them during a show, and so that they can be ordered easily. “Running a cue” just means that the light or sound board operator will turn that particular cue on.

“Show blacks”: An entirely black outfit used by members of the run crew (see definition) to stay hidden during a show. Since most shows aim to keep areas behind and to either side of the stage in the dark, this allows crew members to blend in easier.

Soundboard/mixing console: The device that programs and controls all sound effects/music used in a show. Manned by the soundboard operator. Picture here.

The rack: A piece of machinery that can allow an A2 (see below) or other backstage technician to control mic levels and other audio elements. Picture here.

Transpore/mic tape: Porous, opaque tape used for securing the thin wires of actor’s microphones to their skin. Often leaves a sticky residue/sweats right off. I hate it. Picture here.

Wings: The sides of the stage, usually hidden from the audience.

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CHAPTER 5

Tech week: The week (more or less) that all technical elements of a show are practiced with actors onstage. The week before the opening performances of a show.

Equity card: (see Actor’s Equity definition)

Fly harness: What the performer who will be flying wears so that they can be hoisted safely. There are multiple types depending on what movements the performer will be doing.

God mic: A microphone used mainly by the stage manager and director during tech week to address the cast and crew wherever they may be in the theater. During tech week, it is hooked up to be heard on the stage as well as throughout the theater, but when live performances begin, it will be hooked up to a theater’s PA system so that the stage manager’s voice can only be heard backstage by those working on the show.

Rigging: Any work that involves using ropes, pulleys, chains, or other such implements to hang curtains, pieces of scenery, and other objects that might hang from above the stage. A rigger is required to have some knowledge of proper weight distributions and load-bearing pipes (known in the theater as battens) to safely rig these objects. A rigger may also be responsible for overseeing a fly system or any of the performers that will have to fly.  

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CHAPTER 6

Lenses: A convex piece of glass or other refractive material used in stage lights. Picture here.

Lighting plot: The diagram made by the lighting designer and used by the master electrician (the person in charge of all technical lighting elements, often shortened to “ME”)  and the rest of the lighting crew that outlines where all lights will be and what lights will be used. Picture here.

One-person lift (Genie): More often referred to as a “Genie” (after the company that makes most of them.) It is an electric (can be battery- or cable-powered) lift that can raise a person upwards of 40ft (~12m) in the air to work on lights, curtains, and other stage elements that may be high up. Picture here.  

“Par” (Par can/PAR 64): A type of stage light. Picture here.

“The bucket”: The part of a lift that a person stands in.

Ten-out-of-twelves: Twelve-hour rehearsals that have an hour break for lunch and an hour break for dinner, amounting in ten hours out of twelve being used to work.

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CHAPTER 7

Prop table: Tables kept backstage that are labeled (often by an ASM or prop master) with each prop that appears in the show. Each prop usually has a special place on or under the table that it will always be returned to when not in use. This keeps props from getting lost (most of the time.) Example here.

Safety cable: All stage lights have a piece of metal aircraft-grade cable attached to them that is the first and last thing attached to the pipe the light will be hung from. It acts as another layer of protection, should the light come loose. Example here.

Shift plot: Usually made by someone in management, a shift plot is a detailed list of how the show will run. It can outline when actors exit and enter, when large props or scenery will be moved on or offstage, when costume changes will be done, and any other information that will be useful to the backstage crew in regards to running the show. It is often posted somewhere backstage for everyone to see.

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CHAPTER 8

“Break a leg”: Used in the theater in place of “good luck”. (It’s supposed to be bad luck in the theater to say “good luck”.) The history I always heard is that in the days of Vaudeville shows, there was no guarantee that an actor would get to perform, so the hope was that they’d “break”, or walk beyond the “legs” (the long curtains that obscure backstage from the audience) and get on stage.

“Calling half hour/fifteen/ten/five/etc.”: A stage manager will say over headset to their ASMs when a show is a half hour, fifteen, ten, and five minutes from beginning. The ASMs will relay this information to the actors and crew (if they are not on headsets as well.)

Dress rehearsal: Some of the last rehearsals before a show opens. These rehearsals are the first in full costumes, and incorporate all technical elements of the show.

Foley: The art of designing sounds. Here’s a cool video on foley.

Haze: One of two primary kinds of atmospheric effects. Usually produced by a haze machine, haze hangs in the air while fog rolls low to the ground.

Previews: Usually the week a show opens there will be anywhere between one and four nights of previews in which press events happen and critics come. During previews, show elements can still be changed before the opening night.

Quick change: When an actor has to change from costume to costume in a short amount of time, they will have dressers backstage that will assist them in doing so. Costumes are often designed with these changes in mind, and may have snaps or velcro for easy removal and dressing.

“Thank you five/ten/half hour/etc.”: The acknowledgement that there are five/ten/thirty/etc minutes until the show starts.

Top-of-show: The name of this story!! (Also, literally, the beginning of the show.)

[seduceme-lovestruck-thearcana]

The Girl in The Blue Dress

Chapter 16: The Misthios

@megatraven okay so this chapter is everywhere and it was hard to make the name of it and I had to say that misthios is an actual greek word and actually does mean mercenary. I totally didnt just learn that from Assassins creed totally not. But yeah hope you enjoy and hope you’re okay with long chapters. and not much proofreading I’m tired and just really wanna get it out today-

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The next morning he woke up and went straight to the deck. He saw Rose there, standing at the rail on the ship closest to the dock and was talking with Sam. He didn’t want to interrupt, so he walked to the rail, but stood a littles away from them, trying not to be weird. But it didn’t work because Rose instantly looked over at smiled at him, putting a sudden end to her and Sam’s conversation. He thought of what he was going to tell her all morning, but he still didn’t know how to word that he had to leave for a few hours. 

“Good morning, Andy. You look like you need to tell me something.” His eyes widened for a moment. “How did you know?” She smirked at his surprise. “I’m a misthios. I can usually spot someone who needs to say something.” The word ‘misthios’ made Apollo tilt his head. “You’re a mercenary?” She crossed her arms and nodded. “Yes, and I’m a very good one,” she said, pride evidently in her voice. “Well, do you work everywhere?” Her face dropped and she nodded. “Yes. It gets tough taking jobs that take me through the sea, but yes I work everywhere. It gives me money and that’s the important thing. It’s basically what a mercenary is.” Apollo nodded and looked out to the dock. “I have to...go somewhere for awhile. To see a few friends,” he said, his voice sounding sketchy. She nods and doesn’t ask questions. “Alrught, but don’t be gone long!” He nods and goes down to deep into a forest, not too far so he won’t get lost, and manages to teleport himself to Olympus.

As soon as he shows up there, he goes out to find Aphrodite first. He has to ask her about the woman he saw her with. He walks around Olympus’ winding paths and gets to Aphrodites area. “Her area of Olympus is the one surrounded by flowers (roses specifically), hearts, swans, doves, and other birds and animals,” he reminded himself. He arrived there and looked around and couldn’t find her. “Where is she?” He sighs and turns around, ready to go to the other Gods, but Aphrodite is suddenly in front of him. “What are you doing here?” Apollo jumped at her sudden appearance and stepped back a few steps. “Woah, Aphrodite! Don’t scare me like that,” he said with a laugh. She smiled at him and said an apology. “What are you here for, Apollo? You usually don’t visit us much unless...”. Her eyes widen. “Did she-” He interrupts her train of thought as he shakes his head. “No, no. Not yet anyways,” he says with his voice quieting at the sad thought. “I’ve come here to ask a question, actually.” Aphrodite smirks and crosses her arms. “What...kind of question?” 

Apollo’s cheeks go red and he shakes his head and holds his hands out. “No, no, no, no! It’s not that type of question.” He clears his throat, but the blush doesn’t go away at the mere implication that he would go to her asking about that. “I’ve been seeing a woman in my dreams. Well, not just my dreams. I’ve been seeing her when I’m awake too, but it’s like a ghost of her,” he says as he tries to make sense. Aphrodite nods as he talks and has her eyes closed as she thinks. “She’s always there and looks like Rose. Her voice is very similar, her face is almost identical, her hair is a different color, but she looks almost like Rose...but I don’t know who she is, and it’s not only her I’ve been seeing. I’ve been seeing you.” Aphrodite opened her eyes and tilted her head. “You’ve been seeing a ghost version of me?” Apollo looked down to the ground in embarrassment of how crazy it sounded. “Yes, and you were comforting the woman, as if you were very close,” he says as he looks into her dark, red eyes. “Could you describe her to me?” He crosses his arms and closes his eyes and imagines her.

“She’s maybe 5′3, her black hair is in a single braid, it goes down to her mid-back, she’s wearing a blue and white dress, and she had a child with her the first time I saw her, and I know we could possibly know her since she was speaking in our ancient Greek, only the kind we know.” Apollo opened his eyes and saw how Aphrodite’s eyes lit up as she stared past him, as if remembering something, but then her eyes went dark again. “Apollo, I know many Gods and Goddesses, so I do not know how to help you,” she said, her voice sounding truly sad. “You can ask the other people, but I doubt they will have a certain answer, I’m sorry.” She places on hand on his arm and gives it a comforting squeeze. He nodded and felt his heart drop, the sadness hitting him deep. “Why is it hurting this bad? I don’t know her and why is it a big deal?” He doesn’t know, and continues to ask the other Gods and Goddesses to see if they know her, but none of them have a certain answer. However, Aphrodite and Hades seemed to know something. Both their eyes lit up and then darkened, as if they remembered something happy, only for it to turn horrible. He sighs when he’s asked everyone and noticed it’s afternoon, and he heads back down to where Rose was. 

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“So...what are you going to do here?” Apollo found Rose back on the surface and was following her around the town. She looked at him and smiled. “Well, I’m gonna look for a few jobs! Many people call out to me,” she said. As soon as she said that, someone did call out to her. “Dagger! Please help me, misthios!” There was a woman sitting down on the middle of the bridge, blood on her toga. She was breathing heavily and looked panicked. Rose knelt down to her level and grabbed her hands. “What is it, ma’am?” The woman stared at Rose for a moment, as if she didn’t believe she was really there. “My husband! We were attacked by animals in the woods! He told me to run...but he wasn’t following and I don’t know if he’s okay,” the woman shouted, her voice hoarse and pained. “Please, misthios, help him!” Rose nodded and squeezed the lady’s hands and stood up. “I’ll find him, ma’am, I promise. Where is the area you were attacked at?” The woman pointed towards the wooded area behind them. Rose turned to Apollo and nodded and took off for the woods, her feet moving faster than he’d seen someone move before. He struggled to keep up with her for a moment, but managed to catch up with her. They soon got to the woods and she motioned for him to be quiet as she listened for a fight. Her eyes scanned the woods and she saw the man fighting a wolf and a bear. “Come on!” They ran towards the man and she pulled out her bow and shot the wolf, staggering it for a moment, but it was still angry and turned it’s gaze to her. It snarled and lunged for her, but she was ready. She cut the wolf down with her dagger that she managed to grab within a second.

Apollo, caught in his trance of how she somehow fought gracefully, almost didn’t notice the bear coming towards him. He rolled out of the way and managed to get to the man and pick him up. “Please...it hurts,” the man said. Apollo picked him up carefully and turned around to see Rose, pulling her dagger away from the bear, it lying still on the ground. “Wow, that’s some nice fighting,” he said with a breathless laugh. She nodded and they began to run back to the bridge, trying not to hurt the man even worse. Once they got there, they saw the woman stand up and cover her mouth with her hands, muffling the cry of joy. “We’re going to take him to a healer, okay?” The woman nodded and followed them to the nearest healer. They got there and got the man bandaged up. “He’ll be fine within a few days. He’s very lucky,” the doctor said. The woman let out another cry as she sat beside her husband on the floor. Rose sat beside her and gave her a side hug. “I’m glad he’s okay, and I hope you’ll both be more careful next time you travel.” The woman nodded and reached into her pocket for a few drachmae, and handed it to Rose with shaky hands. “Please, take this, Dagger.” Rose looked towards the doctor. “Will he need any drachmae to pay for anything else?” The man shook his head and she took the coins of drachmae. “Thank you, ma’am. I hope you and your husband will be safe and happy after this!” Both the man and woman thanked her and she stood up and walked away. 

“Is that how your work goes?” Apollo walked beside her as she counted the coins. “Yes, it is. I usually take tasks from them and get them what they need. Whether it be wolf pelts, some wood, a type of plant, weapons, or whatever. I almost always help them.” He noticed how she said ‘almost’. “You don’t answer to everyone?” She stopped in her tracks for a moment, but continued walking and pocketed the coins. “Not everyone deserves my help. Some of them are terrible people, and I refuse to work for them. They always act surprised when I turn them down. They believe I answer to everyone,” she said with her voice containing venom, like a past hurt was rising again. “I am my own boss and I don’t answer to anyone.” Apollo felt intimidated without her even talking about him, and nodded in response. “Well, I might as well go ask around, it’s still too early to go and perform again.” He nodded at her and followed her around on specific jobs, watching her charming personality turn on and off, saw her fight as if she was born doing it, and watched as her kindness spread to everyone that called out for her help. When it was finally night, they went to the leaders house, it looking like a castle, sorta. 

Before they entered the house, Rose stopped him and adjusted his mask. He had a black one and she had a golden one again. “Now, listen to me, Andy. This place is just as dangerous as any other place. People know me and threaten me, so they may threaten you and I want you to be careful, okay?” Her voice was worried as she then began to mess with his toga, as if everything was wrong, but he knew it wasn’t. “Be careful who you talk to, do not accept anything from anyone, remember where I and the others are if you need us,” she said as she backed up and looked him up and down, making sure everything was good. She let out a shaky breath and adjusted her own mask. “Please, be careful, Andy. I do not want to lose anyone here, okay?” He nodded and lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. “Do not worry, boss. I will try my best to be okay, and you need to be safe.” He saw a light blush paint her face in the dim light, causing him to smirk. She laughed softly at him and smoothed her hair down. He saw Sam come up to her and offer his arm. “Ready to go?” She nodded and took his arm and bid Apollo goodbye. As he watched them enter the house, his heart pounded. “Is she with him? Are they just friends?” He doesn’t know their relationship and makes him feel a bit guilty for flirting with her, but he pushes those feelings away as he walks into the house after them. He’s guided to a backyard type of place, it being in the middle of the house, walls surrounding the edges with doors to other places of the house. In the area, there were tables, big cups of drinks, some food, musicians in the corner of the room, and many people drinking and talking. The area wasn’t too big, so he assumed this was an important like party. 

As he took in the sights, he felt a woman tap him on his shoulder. He looked over and he froze. The face he met was familiar, but not the mystery woman. This time...it was a girl he knew. “Vanessa?” The memories of Rose’s past sister rushed towards his mind, blocking every other thought. The woman’s face twisted in confusion. “Vanessa? My name is Adonia.” Adonia smiled at him and held two drinks, the liquid a dark red. “I was wondering if you wanted to share a drink with me? Unwind together,” she said, her voice sounding suggestive. At the memory of little Vanessa and Rose’s warning, his mind shouted at him. “I’m sorry, madam, I’m not into drinking tonight.” Her face turned to fake sadness as she pouted. “Are you sure? I’m sure we could have a fun night.” He shook his head once again, body becoming tense and feeling uncomfortable with the tension. Her face turned to disgust for a moment, but went back to that coyness as she sighed. “Alright, big boy. Maybe you’ll change your mind throughout the night.” She walked away and he let out a big sigh. “That’s over, thank Gods,” he thought, but then he remembered how she looked like Vanessa. “Is it Vanessa?” He shakes his head at the thought. Just because they look similar doesn’t mean it is her or even her reincarnated. He looks back out into the party and sees Rose talking to a woman with a white dress on. They both look serious and are closely talking. Sam is there as well. and he looks like he’s watching to make sure that no one is listening. Apollo looks away, feeling like he’s intruding on something, and decides to go talk to others at the table surrounded by drinks and food. 

He talks to them for a few minutes, even if they’re all very drunk, and he notices Rose walking over to him after awhile. She’s looking around the room as she walks to him, her face looking tense, and she reaches for his hand in a rush. “How is it going for you? My night is not going very well,” she says with a slight sigh. He squeezes her hand for comfort and gives a small smile. “It’s going pretty boring. I don’t know anyone, someone tried to seduce me, and these people are all too drunk.” She laughs at him and squeezes his hand back. “I know, it’s going really slow. I’m about to sing soon, are you excited? I am,” she said, her voice getting a bit louder with excitement. “Yeah, you did sound really good last time.” She smiled and looked around the area. “Yeah, but I don’t think anyone else will remember it. Only a few that aren’t about to pass out.” They stood there in silence for a moment, still holding hands, but it was ruined after a few minutes because the woman Rose was talking to is coming towards them. “Rose, it is time for you to perform as well. Sorry you won’t have a good audience.” Rose smiles and shakes her head. “It’s alright. I love to sing regardless.” They both smile and Rose walks to the musicians and discuss the songs with them. The woman stands beside Apollo and they watch as Rose begins to sing.

“Her voice is beautiful isn’t it?” He listens to her and actually knows this song. Her voice sings it out loudly yet softly, and it goes together well with the music in the background. The song is slow and he sees the people stand up and sway to her voice, some hold some of their friends, some dance with each other, and it seems like a different party all of a sudden. “Her voice really is,” he says, trying to hold back his tongue from spilling his true thoughts. He opens his eyes as she finishes the first song, and he looks over to the woman beside him. She has short, curly, red hair that goes to her mid-neck, her skin is pale, she’s wearing a yellow toga dress, and her eyes are red. They’re a bright red, and it isn’t human. He knows it not just from her appearance, but also because of the feeling he gets around her. “I know you’re not human, and I know you know that I’m not human.” She looks at the people around her and her smile turns mischievous. “It’s fun to be on the surface, isn’t it? Fooling all of these mortals, not knowing they’re insulting a divine being...not knowing their life can end in a moment.” Her voice became rough and he felt stuck in place. “What power is this?” She turns towards him and gives him a smirk. “Watch your back, or you’ll end up dead,” she says as she turns around and walks away. She goes to one of the open doorways and disappears down the hallway to the right. He wants to chase her, but he knows he probably shouldn’t. Rose is here, surrounded by people that could not help her if she needed it, and he feels unsafe here. 

And as Rose finishes singing, he notices her voice faltering on the last note as she looks ahead of her. He looks to where she’s looking and he sees Adonia there, leaning against a doorway to another room, holding a dagger at her side, in clear eye sight of Rose. She finishes the song and looks over to Sam in the other corner and looks at Apollo. Sam disappears down one hallway, Rose does the same, and Apollo decides to copy them. However, he forgot that he doesn’t know where he is. He walks down multiple hallways and meets a dead end. He sighs and turns around only to see Adonia blocking the other way. They’re a few feet apart, but he still feels like she’s on top of him. They stare at each other for a moment, but she begins to walk slowly to him. “I’ve never seen you with Rose before. You must be a new crew member, or just a tag along?” She lifts one side of her dress up and pulls out a dagger that was attached to her thigh. He’s seen Rose have the same thing, always being prepared for anything. “Are you a new misthios in the field? Then, why are you here with Dagger? Are you going to play her?” Apollo feels uncomfortable with her questions and he steps back every time she steps forward. After a few steps, his back hits the wall and she is very close to him. “Well, doesn’t matter. A misthios is always ready to get their hands dirty,” she says as she lifts her dagger up, getting ready to stab him.

But he watches as a hand hits Adonia’s hand making her drop the dagger, a hand pulls her hands behind her back, and a kick hits the back of her knees so she lands hard on her knees. He sees the person behind her and sees Rose, pulling her dagger out and holding it above Adonia’s neck. “Now, what do we have here?” Her voice sounds dark, not like the calm and kind Rose he knows. And as he stares at them, he’s rushed with memories as he sees the girls together. His heart hurts when he sees how Adonia looks like Vanessa, and how they’re hostile together, how Rose is one swipe away from ending her life, ending the life of a woman who looks just like her past sister. He remembers them playing together and hugging each other in the first life, but now it’s hostile. threatening, and deadly. And he’s afraid for both of their lives.

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OKAY SOOOO....It was hard to title this chapter because it’s everywhere, but yeah...I hope you like it >:))). And idk if it was clear but Adonia and the woman Rose was talking two are different people. I couldn’t tell if I worded it right or not, bUT YEAH that’s it lol. I love this lifetime aAAAAAAH. And I hope you enjoy this and like the way it’s going so far bc honestly I’m in love with it and Rose in this life time lol. 

[therainroguefanfiction]

⁂ Push Your Limit (Initial D) Act 1

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Comedy, Friendship, Slice of Life

Word Count: 2,559

Pairing: Reader x ??

World: Initial D

Author’s Note: This is the author’s note I posted once upon a time when I posted this on Quizilla lol

“Alrighty, what did you guys think of ACT 1? Did it catch your interest and make you want to check out the anime, if you haven’t already? Did it re-ignite the flames of Initial D fans that had forgotten or not seen the anime in so long? If you haven’t watched it already, I highly recommend you do so. It’s much better than my boring, un-actiony version. Let’s hope it did atleast a little something to you people who read it. I appreciate the support from you all, even if I don’t know who you are (minus a select few, of course). With that said, I bid you adu, Quizilla.”

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Mt. Akina

The roads coil around the hills like a snake poised to strike. A deadly mountain where one wrong move could send you flying towards certain death. Treacherous and challenging roads, where you prove whether or not you have what it takes to tackle the mountain and not find yourself upside down in a ditch wondering what went wrong – if you’re lucky. To act cocky or overconfident is a fool’s bet.

You knew these facts well, having run the mountain with your best friend on his tofu deliveries for the past 5 years.

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Knock, Knock.

“Y/N?” the brown-haired teen stood in the doorway of your bedroom, hand still on the doorknob.

“Tak?” you raised an eyebrow in question, turning your attention away from the empty desk to the teenager standing at your bedroom door.

“Iggy roped me into going to Mt. Akina tonight to hang with Cole. Wanna come?”

You shrugged, leaning back in your chair and pulling out a cigarette from the pack, “Sure. Got nothin’ better to do.”

“Cole’s picking us up at the bus station at eight,” he announced before turning around and leaving the room.

“Hmmm. This may just turn out to be an interesting night.” You mused, taking a puff of the cigarette.

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“You goin’ out this late, Tak? Y/N?” Tak’s father asked, not looking up from the newspaper he was reading. He was leaning against the window outside, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.

“Yeah. Iggy and I made plans to hang out for a while. Y/N is coming with us.” Tak answered, turning around to face his dad.

“You two going out at night doesn’t concern me. You getting up in the morning does.” Bunta responded.

You chuckled, a grin on your lips as you looked away from the two. Bunta had a very good point. Neither of you were really morning people, you less of one than Tak. It was tiresome and troublesome for the pair to wake up so early, but it was something that you had been doing for a while, something you didn’t have much choice in. You’d think the two of you would have gotten used to it by now.

“Don’t freak out about it, dad. You know we’ll get up.” Tak turned back around. “So, I guess we’ll see you later.” he started to walk off and you followed close behind.

“See ya, Bunta~” you grinned, folding your hands behind your head.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

“AHHHHHH! AH-AAHHHHHH!!”

“Will you please shut up for five seconds!? He’s trying to concentrate on driving!”

Tak was screaming like a little girl, clutching tightly onto you as if his life depended on it. Cole was driving with a smirk on his face. Iggy was sitting in the passenger seat, both hands clutching the handgrip above the passenger side door. He was busy yelling at Tak, thoughts of him being uncool clear through the expression on his face and the tone of his voice. You and Tak were sat in the back seat, Tak freaking out and you getting a headache because he was screaming into your ear.

Your eye twitched as said male clung to you, arms wrapped tightly around your neck. “How the hell did I get stuck with this moron?” you muttered under your breath, eyes cast towards the window. You loved the blur of the browns, the silvers, and the greens as they passed at a speed far above normal. It was one of the things in life that you adored, held close to your heart. Though, you’d never admit that to anyone else.

“Yeah, whatever! I’m trying to concentrate on staying alive!” Tak retorted, voice filled with panic.

“Chill out. Everyone feels like they’re going to toss their cookies the first time they ride with a street racer.” Cole grinned, clearly enjoying the scene in the backseat, “Hang on. We’ll take the hairpin in second.” He shifted gears and floored the gas pedal.

“AHHHHH!”

“Can’t you scream a little quieter?!”

You sighed before grinning at the two best friends. They were a trip when they were together, but you couldn’t help but notice how Iggy’s eyes were snapped shut, beads of sweat on his face. He was just as worried, he was just being quieter than Tak was.

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Tak was sitting on the ground, back leaning against the railing, slouched over and breathing heavily. The SpeedStars, Iggy, and you were standing around him, worried looks on all of your faces.

“You okay? Man, Tak, I had no idea you were gonna freak like that. I know I was pushing the car a little hard tonight but, come on!” Cole stood in front of Tak’s hunched form, hands on his sides as he leaned over the heavily breathing teen.

Iggy huffed, kneeling down to get next to Tak. “You’re a wimp! Even worse, you’re a girl!”

You growled at that statement, eyes narrowed at the moronic teenager who either didn’t notice your glare or didn’t care. You made a mental note to kick his ass about that one later.

“Don’t tell me you’re the type that spazzes out on a roller coaster!”

“I don’t think roller coasters are scary at all, okay? That has nothing to do with it. Why don’t you mind your own business?” Tak responded, having calmed down. “I don’t know, Iggy. Even if I were to try and explain it to you, I don’t think you’d get it. I have this fear.” his voice lowered, almost to a whisper.

“Huh?” Iggy cocked his head to the side confused. You listened in, leaning against a nearby street light and lighting the cigarette that hung between your lips.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

“Looks like we got a few visitors,” Cole announced, hands in his pockets as he looked over at the arriving cars.

Tak was back on his feet, acting completely normal with Iggy at his side. You stood in the back, hat pulled down over your eyes. You could smell the trouble beginning to brew and it was a fine smell indeed.

The group of cars stopped in front of the group, the doors opening to reveal their drivers. Cole stared at the team name written in red on the side of the yellow FD. The RedSuns? Those guys are the fastest team in Akagi! The door to the yellow FD opened and out stepped a blonde-haired male.

You pushed your hat up slightly with your index finger, eyes narrowed at the blonde. You knew full well who he was. Most people did if they knew anything about street racing.

The door to the white FC opened and out stepped a blue-haired male, older than the first. He nodded to the younger male who seemed to take the lead. Though, you knew he wasn’t the leader, even if he acted like he was.

“All right, listen up! We’re members of the team known as the Akagi RedSuns. Now don’t get your panties in a bunch, but we’re here to find out who’s the fastest team, or who’s the fastest driver on this mountain. We want the top dog.”

You scoffed, pulling your hat back down. ‘Cocky rich bitch.’

Cole, who stood tall and proud, spoke up, catching the attention of the RedSuns drivers. “We’re the Akina SpeedStars. You want the fastest on the mountain, you’ve found ’em. So what do you want to do about it?”

You attempted not to laugh. Cole was acting so tough, but he didn’t know who he was dealing with.

The two brothers looked at each other, smirking before turning their attention back to the group. Clearly, they were just as amused. “Chill out there, ace, no biggie. We’re just looking for a little friendly competition. To be fair, we’ll even set the meet on your course.”

The SpeedStars were shocked, confused as to why the RedSuns would agree to race on their turf when they’ve never even driven Mt. Akina before. It gave them confidence, made them feel like they stood more of a chance to win but you knew that would be their downfall. No matter what the condition, overconfidence will get them in the end. Just like karma, it’s a real bitch.

“Wow. This is going to be unbelievable.” Iggy grinned, eyes sparkling and hands clutched in front of him. Tak was looking on with a bored expression, having no real interest in what was happening around him.

“Here’s the deal,” one of the other drivers stepped forward. He looked like an advisor for the team, “We usually run only with dudes we know, but it’s gettin’ kinda stale, ya know? We thought that running against other teams would give us a new challenge. We can hang with some new drivers, maybe pick up a few tips, who knows! It might help us all polish our skills. Starting out, we’ll all run together. Then each team will pick one driver to represent. They’ll compete in both the uphill and downhill. Whoever wins, wins. What’s important is developing a bond between the two teams. So, what do you think? You boys up for it?”

“Che. Bond, my ass.” You scoffed, looking away from the group. You didn’t notice the blue-haired male staring over at you with curious eyes.

The SpeedStars were looking cautious. The deal sounded too good, after all. “I guess when he puts it that way, it makes it sorta hard to say no.”

“Yeah.” Kenji nodded in agreement.

“Cool. Then what’d you say we meet back here next Saturday at… ten o’clock?” the advisor spoke up.

“All right, we’ll be here.”

“What do you say tonight we take it easy on each other and take a few practice runs?” The blonde suggested, an air of arrogance surrounding him.

“Did ya hear that, Tak?” Iggy flipped out, holding tightly onto Tak’s plain white t-shirt. “How cool is this?!”

The RedSuns took off first.

“They’re just trying to intimidate us!” Kenji said, fist held out in front of him. “Let’s show ’em what we got.”

“Yeah!” the rest of the team agreed. Everyone got into their respective vehicles and took off, determined to show up the so-called fastest team in Akagi.

“So, now what, Cole?” Iggy asked after everyone else had taken off.

“Now I use a microscope on the dudes known as the fastest in Akagi; the Takahashi brothers.”

“The Takahashi Brothers? You mean the famous street racers who were written about in all the magazines?!” Iggy asked, shocked.

You stood at Tak’s side, listening in on their conversation. Of course, you kept your smart ass comments to yourself, even though you had a few colorful words to utter about the famous Takahashi brothers.

“That’s right. They’re also known as the Rotary brothers.” Cole hopped into his car, feeling pumped and ready to show them up.

“Hang on a sec, Cole, we’ll jump in.” Iggy reached out for the door handle but stopped when Cole spoke.

“Sorry boys, when I make a serious run I have one rule: no passengers. Wait here, I’ll come back and pick you up later.” With that said, he took off, leaving the three of you alone in the dark.

“Awww!” Iggy groaned, kneeling down and clutching his head, “Oh man! This seriously blows. We’re the only losers in the world without a rig.”

“Yeah. Hey, Iggy? What’s the big deal about street racing, anyway?”

“Huh?” he looked up at him.

“I just don’t get it. Everyone gets all flipped out about it.”

Iggy stood up, hands balled into a fist as he stared at the clueless Tak. “You hear that sound, right? Tires screeching, engines blaring, the cars so close to each other the drivers can smell each others’ armpits! Are you having a brainfart, what’s not to get amped about?”

You facepalmed, muttering under your breath about how much of an idiot he is.

Tak blinked, still confused about what his best friend was saying. “Yeah… I guess…”

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

The SpeedStars had returned from their run, currently grouped together where they had previously met, earlier that night. They had been smoked by the RedSuns. Even their second-stringers were too good for the SpeedStars.

“They’re amazing. They’re just so much faster than we are.”

“I can’t believe we got schooled as bad as we did, especially on our own turf.”

“They put serious jack in their suspensions and they got power. Face it, there’s no way we can compete with the RedSuns.”

“But we can’t turn down a challenge on our own turf!”

“He’s right! We can’t back out now! We’ll be the laughing stock of the whole region!”

“Yeah, well, unless you have a better suggestion, we’re gonna get our butts kicked.”

After listening to the team’s comments, Cole finally stepped in, gaining the undivided attention of the group. “Look, it’s getting late, guys. Why don’t we all hook up tomorrow and talk about our options?”

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

Cole was taking the trio home. Iggy in front, with you and Tak in the back. He was driving normally, clearly bummed out about not standing a chance against the RedSuns. It didn’t come as much of a surprise to you. You knew all about the Takahashi brothers. They wouldn’t be on a team that was easily beat, if at all.

“Street racers don’t take to losing too well. It’s a feeling that never goes away. There’s nothing worse than losing to an outsider on your own home ground. There’s an unwritten law for street racers: protect your turf.”

Iggy was really bummed, as well, unhappy about how his dream team was going to lose in such a horrid manner. You and Tak were listening closely, absorbing every word, but not really thinking about the letters that he uttered.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

The roar of the engine… the smell of the exhaust… the burning of the tires… the cheer of the crowd…

These are the sights and sounds of street racing, modern-day steel chariot gladiators who test their own limits while rocketing towards the finish line and road glory. But of all the roads in the world, none are as treacherous and challenging as the mountains of Japan, where the roads coil around the hills like a snake poised to strike. On these treacherous roads, there are only two outcomes – you either got game, or you find yourself upside down in a ditch wondering where it went wrong.

Enter Takumi Fujiwara, mild-mannered tofu delivery boy… and undisputed king of the Akina roads.

For Takumi, drifting around a 90-degree bend or slipping by an opponent with mere inches between him and a thousand-foot drop is as effortless a feat as crossing the street. Takumi and his infamous finely tuned AE eight-six not only rule the highways of Akina but other provinces, as well.

But it isn’t all wine and roses, even for a racing god, because off the road, Takumi is just a shy teenager still uncertain about his future. He has girl trouble, problematic friends, and most of all, challengers coming after his throne. Being number one only means there’s a number two with aspirations of becoming the next drift king. So for Takumi, defending his crown is a full-time job. Now if only he can find time to deliver tofu as well…

This is Initial D.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

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[rogue-c]

House Sitting, Pt. I

“So I gave you the spare keys already?”

“Yes…”

“And what about money for uhhh… ummm…-“

“The lawn care guys honey.”

“Yeah! Do you have the envelope with the money for them in it? I gave that to you earlier right?”

I let out an exasperated sigh.

“Yes. I have the money,” I responded dryly. “And the spare keys to the house, and the emergency numbers, and the numbers to all the resorts you’re staying in AND your flight information, and even the alarm codes for the house. I am fine. Go catch your flight… please…”

I loved her dearly, but I was more than a bit frustrated with my best friend Vanessa at the moment. Thankfully her husband was here to stem the tide of her tidal wave of worried questioning. It was understood to some degree though. She and her husband, Andre, were headed on a whirlwind tour of various European countries for the next month or so. Naturally, Vanessa asked her best friend to house sit for the 6 weeks that they’d be gone.

But Jesus! Did she trust me or not? This obnoxious questioning routine was getting way out of hand. I’ve known her since college – maybe 12 years or so – and she’d always been a bit neurotic, but this is overkill even for her. As she continued nervously muttering to herself, I took the opportunity to help her husband take the bags out to the car. Of course, they had packed everything they needed and then some – resulting in a host of extra suitcases and bags to lug around. We had been talking in the kitchen and no sooner had I made up my mind to help Andre did Vanessa disappear into a nearby door and down into the basement, perhaps to look for something she may have forgotten. Curiously, I had never been down there in all the times I’d come over. I peered into the nearby opening, hoping to glean what might be below, only to realize I couldn’t see anything.

The lighting was too dim to see around the corner at the bottom of the staircase, and I turned my attention to Andre, who was already robotically moving the suitcases to the car outside. I grabbed as many bags I could and followed the man’s tall, lanky frame out of the kitchen and through the living room, out of the front door and down the narrow walkway towards the mini-van that was waiting. The van was all black, with tinted windows. The midday sun glinted off of the windshield to the point that it was nearly blinding as I approached. Squinting to ignore it, I pulled the luggage up to the trunk of the van and began tossing it into the back of the vehicle.

“Hey…” Andre began speaking to me. “I know ‘Nessa is being a little much today-“

“It’s fine.” I interrupted. “She was like this when we graduated and when you two got married, so this isn’t really a surprise. She’s always uptight when she’s nervous.”

“Yeah, but we owe you. You’ve been a big help over and over and we probably couldn’t live a lot of our dreams without you, ya know?”

I lowered my head to hide the blushing from that comment. As I felt my cheeks redden, I thought back to how Andre used to be when he and Vanessa first met. He was far bulkier and much harsher – a bit of a stereotypical jock. But over the years his attitude mellowed and he physically changed to match – becoming the physical embodiment of his caring, gentle demeanor. It was odd at first, but I could tell Vanessa enjoyed this version far more than its predecessor.

“Umm, yeah. It’s no big deal. Thanks” I responded, flustered from the unexpected compliment.

Andre started to smile, but before he could verbally respond, the driver honked – rather frantic in his insistence on leaving on time as he emphatically tapped on his wrist. Instinctively, I moved towards the house again to go get Vanessa. Before I could even get halfway back, she was rushing out of the house, tripping down the porch stairs as she pulled her last two suitcases behind her. She stopped for a brief second to give me one final hug – and a rundown of everything I may need – before the driver honked again, indicating his anxious desire to leave.

Vanessa took the signal as an opportunity to brush past me as she hurriedly threw her suitcases into the trunk with the others and step into the van. As she did, she motioned her husband to do the same – a direction that resulted in the harshest of eye rolls from Andre as he waved goodbye. I began to head back inside when a call startled me.

“HEY… LESLIE!” I turned around to see what another annoying tidbit of information my friend had for me.

“I know I said to clean the entire house each week, but don’t worry about tackling the basement. There’s some stuff down there that I need to move first, so just let it go.”

Perplexed, I gave a thumbs-up as I watched the van speed away from the curb and down the street, only to disappear around a nearby corner in route to the airport. I continued my lonely trek back into the massive house I was to watch for the next six weeks. It was an enormous white house, with brown and grey stone facing. The cement walkway bridged the porch to the sidewalk, crossing through neatly trimmed and manicured grass. The porch itself wrapped around one side of the house, barricaded by a white railing on its edge. As I walked up to the stairs back to the large reddish-brown wooden door, a tinge of jealousy swept over me. I’d been in apartments all my life – this kind of luxury was still hard to fathom even though I’d been here dozens of times.

The living room was immediately beyond the door, and once inside the climate-controlled lush confines of the house, I casually flopped down onto the nearby sofa to relax. The white furniture sat atop black marble flooring and was situated in a square, with an ornate glass coffee table at its center. The walls were maroon colored, giving off a bit of a sensual vibe, to be honest. Despite its size, the room felt cozy, especially with the fireplace on the far right wall. On the left were the stairs to the bedrooms. In front of me, there was a hallway they led back to the kitchen. It was a surprisingly simple layout for such a grandiose house. As I lounged on the sofa though, a thought kept crossing my mind: Why hadn’t I seen the basement? I mean, I’ve known Vanessa for at least 12 or 13 years. We’re best friends. Did she not trust me? Was I not close enough with her to go down there? And why tell me not to worry about cleaning it all of a sudden? Was there something down there I wasn’t supposed to see?

The thought of it frustrated me to no end and as I stomped into the kitchen to grab something stiff to dull the frustration, I felt something was off. The room was square shaped, with the refrigerator on the far right side of the room. Earlier Vanessa went down into the basement by opening a door that was next to it in the corner, but now, the refrigerator was curiously blocking the door, squarely in front of it. As odd as it was, I didn’t think much of it as I reached into the refrigerator to pull some strawberry jam out. But as I reached above the appliance to grab some bread and peanut butter, I began hearing what sounded like moaning coming from just behind the refrigerator itself. I couldn’t quite make out the words, but they sounded strained and guttural. As I leaned further into the fridge to try and understand what was going on, I heard something different. A loud thumping on the door it seemed. It was slow and loud, and it scared me half to death as I tumbled backward, staggering away to get back to my feet. The thumping continued as I sprinted out of the room and up the nearby stairs to the bedroom.

I sprinted into the master bedroom and shut the doors behind me, unsure of what was going on, and much less what I should even do. I reached for my pocket to try and call Vanessa, but there was nothing there – my phone was still downstairs in the kitchen. Angry at myself, I began pacing the room, thinking of what exactly could’ve made that sound. It couldn’t have been a pet, Vanessa hated cats, and Andre was allergic to most dogs and their fur. Maybe it was a stray animal that got down there? But then how’d anyone have time to push the refrigerator in front of the door before it got out? And wouldn’t someone have called animal control for that? What was down there?

I had to get my phone first. Anxiously, I tiptoed back down the stairs, through the living room and back into the kitchen. Sure enough, my phone was resting on the black granite countertop, right next to the jam I had pulled out. I crouched down and moved as silently as I could, hoping whatever was behind the blocked off basement door wouldn’t notice me. As I got close I reached up for my phone and grabbed it, sliding it off the counter and over the edge. As soon as I had it, I bolted for the stairs again. No sooner, did I stand to run did the banging start again, this time louder and more frantic. I ignored it and ran back up the stairs.

I was safe and back into the master bedroom. Immediately, I dialed Vanessa. The phone rang and rang, rang for what felt like an eternity until finally, it picked up. It was Vanessa’s voice.

“Hey, thanks for calling. If you’re getting this message then I’m probably busy – most likely with a client. If this call is for professional or medical advice, then please call the corresponding number listed for ____ hospital. If it’s an emergency, hang up and dial 911. If you needed to reach me for a personal matter, a text would be more effective. Thanks.”

Of course, it was her damn voicemail. She was probably on the plane and halfway to London by now. I might as well try texting though. Maybe she’ll get that sooner than the missed call. As I sent it, I knew, deep in my heart, that I’d have to figure it out on my own. The sun was sinking outside and there’s no way I’d be able to sleep without finding out what was down there. I sat up from my seat on the bed and hopped onto my feet. If I was going to be comfortable, I had to go check it out.

As I marched back down the stairs, I tried to mentally prepare myself for whatever weird little animal could be down there. I could take it. Once I got to the kitchen, I looked around for a bit, searching for a makeshift weapon. In the corner near a table, I saw a broom. I grabbed hold of it and stepped towards the refrigerator. In order to get to the basement, I’d have to move it first. I stood on the side of it and began pushing. Slowly it began to budge, inching away from its post in front of the door. I couldn’t push it all the way off the spot, but I managed to move it just enough that I could squeeze into the basement entrance. I turned my phone’s flashlight on and peered into the stairwell before me. It was dark and dim. The stairs looked decrepit – like they would break if you jumped on them. But I had to go down there and check….

[helloohmarveluniverse]

Oh what we thought we knew...

Okay here’s goes on the smut version of Doctor Stephen Strange! Yes my writer’s block is gone and this is finally finished......THANK THE GODS!!

Tag list @sovereignoblivious @muffy-the-alchemist @everyone-needs-a-superhero @sharpe-on-asgard @doctorstrangeaskblog @perimmaster

Yes this is smut, Yes this is sexual.....have a problem? Then don’t read it.....duh!

You’re invited to 177A Bleecker St.

Knocking on the door seems to be unimportant, for when you raise your hand to knock.....you are automatically ported inside.

An Asian man greets you at the door “(Y/N) Greetings, my name is Wong. Strange is waiting for you,”

“Strange always seems to be waiting for me,” as you let out a small sigh. Wong guides you through to the second floor of the grand staircase.

Wong bows as he leaves you there in the room to wait. You begin to look around, paying attention to the items that are in the cases. Some look very old....very valuable.

“Hmmm, too easy to break into these. But alas, I shall refrain myself. No need to worry about me Strange,” as you slyly turn around and come face to face with a man that is the epitome of the stereotype......Tall....Dark....and very handsome.

You give him a once over, starting down the the floor ans slowly making your way up to his eyes. Giving him a slight smile.

“Always impressive,”

He gives a smile back “My dear lady, I hope you are referring to the collection here,”

As you walk away for him, you give a little sway to your hips. “ As long as you are apart of the collection then, yes, I am darling,”

You can feel his eyes wandering down your back. You look of your shoulder slightly and give him a wink.

He clears his throat “Um, I ah, I need your help,”

“Anything you need Doctor,” you said as you slowly turn around to face him. You begin to lean on the railing that was around the stairs. You knew damn well that leaning over would almost make you fall out of your top. But you didn’t care, just to get him a little frazzled was a win in your book.

He gets a good eye full when he looks to where you are positioned. You can see that his mouth went dry, and agape...win!

“(Y/N) I have call upon you for your services as a thief. I have knowledge that some more artifacts have surfaced. that they would be beneficial to the order,”

“And you want me to steal them back for you?”

“Well, not steal, just bring them home. See they were stolen from us before and protective and identification spells that were placed on them have been removed...”

“Sounds like as inside job, do you know who? Or where? You have to give me something more then the little that you are telling me,”

As he walks around, pacing back and forth, he tries very hard to not make eye contact with you. You smirk at the realization. It was a cute tactic to not notice what someone like yourself is doing to a tall and handsome creature like him.

You sneak up behind him “Well since you aren’t going to make eye contact with me, then I’m just going to make you look at me,” Doctor Strange, Stephen....was a little shocked as to how fast you moved.

“F-for a thief I knew you could move quickly, but I didn’t think it would be that quick,” his mouth was open a bit and drying up again....oh how you loved to make him do that. You wondered....

“Well my dear Doctor, when need to work out some kind of payment, don’t you think?” as you start trailing a finger down the front of his clothes. You started at his collar and lightly trailed down to the belt that was wrapped around him.

Hooking your finger onto his belt, you give a little tug. “How did you want to do that....Stephen,”

He cocks his head to the side, “My dear (Y/N), I didn’t think you knew my name,”

“I know a lot of things, I even know how you started out,” giving him a wink. By this time you notice he’s leaning in closer to you.

“And do you not think that I know some things also, especial about you dear (Y/N),” you step closer, merely an inch away from his face.

“Please, do tell. I love a good story. And I would love to hear you tell me with that smooth voice of yours,” hearing him swallow hard, he leans in closer to you. Feeling his breath on your lips...

“No need for that, I’m sure your exploits are more harrowing in real life then they are through a story teller,” his hands start to run up your arms slowly.

“By the way (Y/N) am I the payment? Or what?” noses are touching, your hands wander to his waist as you pull him near to fill the gap between you and him.

“My dear Doctor, you are the bonus to said payment,” he smiled a genuine happy and relieved smile before his lips landed onto yours.

Feeling his arms wrap around your waist as he pulls you into him. Something else wrapped around both of you, and started to squeeze a little bit. Stephen broke free for a short moment.

“Okay, you don’t have to help any more. Would you just....psst...go and guard the doors or something?!” as he waves his hand to the general area of the front door. His cloak begins to slide off of him and the pressure is released. His cloak kind of hung its head as if to say, “Sorry I won’t bother you anymore,”

“Aww the poor thing, you didn’t have to be mean to him,”

“Well when it comes to this I really don’t need any help,” as he looks at his cloak. He waves his arm again like he’s shooing an animal away.

“Would you please leave me be, I’ve got this. I’ll call you if I need any.....umm....help....of sorts,” well that seemed to perk the cloak up a bit and it left quickly after. You began to sense that it was is a good mood.

“Okay that was better, he’s in a good mood now,”

“The cloak is a good partner and friend,” you look Stephen in the face as he watches his friend leave with a ‘skip in his step’ kind of bounce. You notice a smirk on his face.

“Well...” you were cut off by his lips. His arm was around your waist holding you very tightly. His other hand was on the back of your head, fingers running through your hair. A small squeak left your body as you felt sudden movement. A whoosh of sorts.

You felt yourself being moved but didn’t know where to. You knew he had abilities, and from what else you were able to find out about him....he’s a quick study. Learned everything he could very quickly.

You break away reluctantly “You know we could have walked,”

“Funny, I’ve heard that before....but the reaction to it always amazes me,” Strange said smiling at you then giving you a wink.

You pull away from him to gain some barring about your surroundings. You can definitely tell that its his room. Books open on his table, and spread all over the place. Bed in the corner of the room. Its not a huge room but just enough for him and what he needs.

Turning back to face him “What you expected something more fantastical?”

“Not really, its simple and it suits you. Hell I could get used to it,” Winking back at him now with your hands on your hips “So, are you going to use magic to strip away everythi.....”

You feel a slight draft as he waves his hand to one side. Noticing your clothes are now neatly folded on the floor next to him. And he is very focused on them.

“Stephen?”

“I honestly didn’t think that little spell would work, it seemed too simple when I found it,”

“Umm.....but your still not looking at me,” as you slowly walk up to him. Placing a hand on his cheek and pulling his gaze to you. He gives you a somewhat shy smirk. Running your free hand up his arm steadily as you look into his eyes...

“Tell me this doesn’t work only one way. If it does, then I guess I’m going to have to work for what I want,” as you wink at him

Feeling his arms wrap back around you again, “And what is it that you want my darling,”

Getting close to his ear, you whisper “You, undressed with me so I can explore the most finest points of you,”

His head lulls onto your neck after saying that to him. His facial hair rubs and tickles at your neck as he runs his lips of your skin...his hands do the same thing to your back as they wander further down.

“Take the gloves off. Its a much more enjoyable sensation when there is skin to skin contact,” nibbling on his ear, your feel him lean more into you. Like he is drunk off of you standing there naked before him.  Then you hear a couple of plops onto the floor behind you......a moment goes by......you jolt at the slightest touch of his fingers on your back.

Slowly moving the upwards, you feel your back turn into all goose pimply. Hearing you gasp, he moves his face to meet yours. His eyes are low, mouth is open as his forehead meets yours.

“Tease,” you manage to get out before he kisses you again. This time much harder. This is much more wanting than the last. His tongue pushes past your lips as he grabs the back of your head to push you more into his kiss.

His other free hand smacks before grabbing your ass cheek. You squeal into his mouth, with a groan from him in return. He hauls up off of the floor forcing your legs to wrap around him. Through his pants your can feel how hard he is getting for you as he walks you over to his bed. While still kissing him, your orientation changes again. You’re laying down , and even though you should be feeling the pressure of him on top of you.....you don’t. he pulls away from you...

“Stephen?” as you prop yourself onto your elbows. His eye are closed, and with the same movement of his hand before....his clothes are now neatly folded next to yours.  Then you look up at him. Tall, dark and handsome just became fucking desirably sexy.

Small amount of chest hair, defined abs, muscles that you hadn’t noticed before and a small trail of hair that lead down to his ever growing erection. Looking down past his little happy trail is something you never really expected, but damn he’s a big boy.....and its pulsing. If your heart wasn’t racing before, now it is.

He opens his eyes and smiles slyly at you. “I wasn’t going to make a beautiful woman work for what she’s earned already,” Now your heart fluttered. ‘Beautiful huh?’ as that thought rings through your ears. He has now placed himself kneeling in front of you.

You try not to let your eyes get any bigger, and you try to calm your heart but its damn near impossible. Stephen is kneeling in front of you on the floor while you are positioned at the edge of the bed. His hand rubs your thighs upward. He kisses you to your belly button and then starts to pry your legs gently apart.

As he makes his way back down, you notice that he’s starting a little bit. He’s licking his lips. You try to say something but that was cut off by loud audible gasp escaping your lungs.

Diving into your folds without warning, you could tell that Stephen didn’t want to wait that much longer. You felt him shaking a little bit, seems like he hasn’t done this in a while.  But that though quickly wiped from your mind when he start to nibble at your nub.

You compulsively grabbed the back of his head, snaking your fingers through his hair. Feeling him groan into you he pulls you closer to his face. You spread your knees further apart as he pushes to get further inside you.

His fingers spread your lips apart as he started flicking his tongue against you. No longer be able to sit up any more, collapsing back down onto the bed. This new angle has you writhing. You can’t hold back the moans anymore as you let one out.

“Gods Stephen don’t stop!” as you begin to push yourself more into his face. Your hips take over as they start thrusting and rubbing against his tongue. His fingers deftly slide into you, they start moving back and forth as you writhe and wriggle more against him.

You can’t help but look down at him,  he pulls his head back and start to rub your clit with his thumb, rubbing continuously as he watches you. The sensation that washes over you is unbelievable. All your thoughts run together as you can no longer think. You hands start grabbing your breasts and pinching your nipples. As he watches he lets out a loud moan.  His head hits your knee as he looks at you. He’s still drunk off of you. Kissing and nipping at your thigh as he makes his way back down.

“I love watching you play with yourself,” he says before he dives back into you.

Your eyes roll back into your head, you can feel it coming on. You thrust harder and harder against him. His fingers inside you are pumping furiously.

“Stephen, don’t.....stop. I’m going to...Gods!” as you scream out while arching your back. You tighten up around him as you feel your body explode is such amazing pleasure...

As you come down off of your climax, he’s already on top of you. Both of his arms are wrapped around you, your legs are intertwined. You can taste yourself on his tongue which makes you moan a little into his mouth.

He begins to kiss you harder. Running a hand down your side. When he comes to your knee, he lifts it up. You can feel him at your entrance. He knows what he’s doing.

Stephen rubs his tip into your folds. Letting go of the kiss, his forehead is against your again. Eyes are closed, breathing heavily, then he looks into your eyes....

“Tell me,” he says in a harsh whisper. Your eyes shoot open.

“What...” you say breathlessly

“Tell me what you want,” his tone getting a bit more gruff. As he starts rubbing his tip into more roughly than before. He so close to giving you what you want you can barely think. You head leans back and rests on the bed behind you....he lets go of your knee and grabs on of your breasts. He starts to suck on your nipple, which makes you moan and wiggle a little bit. But he wanted more, so gives it a playful bite. Like they aren't’ sensitive enough as it is, this damn near sends you overboard again. Your moan turns into a loud groan, your hand find the back of his head. Roughly grabbing a handful of his hair and making him moan. He then roughly sucks on your nipple while flicking his tongue against it.

“Fuck, Stephen! I want you inside of me right now! I can’t take anymore teasing!” and as if on cue, he plunges as hard as he can into you. Making you scream out in agonizing pleasure. He almost makes cum right then and there! You are barely able to catch your breath.

He moans out in pleasure as well. “Damn! You feeling amazing! I don’t think I can stop!” as he starts to thrust into more and more. He moves both of your legs to where your knees are close to your head.

You feel him inside as deep as he can go. You instinctively grab the back of his knees. You hear him moan again as you look down to watch his hips rhythmically push into you over and over again. In a moment of clarity, you realize that there was one thing that you wanted to do to him...

“Stephen, I want you deeper inside me. Please, I’m begging you!” as you move your hips in sync with his. You notice his eyes roll back into his head.

“Tell me more of what you want, I love hearing it,” amidst the moans and groan you are giving him. You reach down between the both of you. Placing your hand over your clit. You want to feel him inside in other ways. Place your fingers on either side of his cock while he’s pumping into you. He cries out...

“Christ! Don’t stop doing that!! as he leans down to watch what you are doing

“Do you like it when I do this to you?” and you breathlessly and gruffly say into his ear. And hearing him moan in response is sexy within itself.

“You’re going to make me cum by doing that!” as he watches you fingers slide up and down his cock all the while its still pulsing in and out.

You didn’t think he could get any harder, but he does. He grabs onto the back of your head and pulls you into a hard kiss. Both moaning into each other. You have to pull back away, not being able to breathe.

“Fuck I don’t think I can hold out much longer,” as you bite his ear. Your on the edge again. Feeling yourself clench up around him. He doesn’t slow down one bit. He starts slamming into you a lot harder than before making you scream.

“I love making you scream! I want you to cum all over me!” his voice was hoarse but those words coming from his voice while he is looking you dead in the eye make you damn near cum right then.

“You better cum soon, because....I’m so.....close,” as he said gasping in your ear....

You start to feel his shake. You tighten your grasp around him as now you can’t tell who’s shaking. Both of you on the edge of an orgasmic sensation.

“Keep.....hitting.....that.....spot....oh god!” as you scream out in pleasure again from this man. You feel yourself cum all over his erection, tightening up around him. You hear a sharp inhale from him as he damn near howls in a low guttural tone as he releases inside of you.

After a moment, he lets your legs down slowly. He’s trying to so hard not to out all his weight on top of you. But you can see that his arms are quivering. In fact his whole body is.

“Are you alright?” you barely manage to get out, your voice is damn near gone at this point.

“The best I’ve been in years,” as he raises his head to smile at you. And as he slowly lowers himself onto you. He gives you the lightest of kisses.

“Mmmmm......so is this the point where you kick me out now?” as you look at him slyly

“Why would I kick a beautiful thing like you out of my room (Y/N)? Fact of the matter is...” he stands up to get off of you. Still curious about what he is going to say, you sit up...

“Is what?” you say this as he moves your legs off the edge of the bed and onto it fully. He grabs a blanket and lays down next to you and cover both you and him.

“Is that there is no job. I just wanted you here, with me. All to myself.” the look of shock covers your face. And Strange is damn near laughing at you.

“What? I wanted you here, more like....um...I....uhhh....”

“More like you needed me here?”

He looks at you with those beautiful eyes and nods his head in agreement. You lean to kiss him. He kisses back with sincerity. But he breaks away...

“I know I may not be the most nicest man, and I know I’m cocky and a little arrogant. But, you.....you fit me. You calm me down. Hell you make me feel like I can do anything. You make me feel like me,”

“I know that you are a nice man, and yes you may be all those things but that’s what I love about you. Hell, you give me confidence.” just then you get tackled. Making you squeak and giggle at the same time. His face is buried into your neck. He tries to talk but its all muffled.

“What was that?”

He raises his head and smiles “I’m in love with you,”

Those words ring in your ears for a moment and then a sound disrupts it.....its light snoring.......He’s asleep.

“I thought so,” as you smile and cuddle up against him. The last thing you see before drifting off is his face against your skin.

[thecomicsnexus]

The Case of The Chemical Syndicate

DETECTIVE COMICS #27 MAY 1939 BY BILL FINGER, BOB KANE, JERRY SIEGEL, JOE SHUSTER, JIM CHAMBER AND CHARLES BIRO

SYNOPSIS (FROM DC WIKIA)

Commissioner Gordon relaxes at home entertaining his young socialite friend Bruce Wayne. Wayne asks if anything exciting has happened lately, and Gordon explains that a fellow called the "Bat-Man" is puzzling him. Gordon receives a call that chemical manufacturer Lambert has been found murdered. They have Lambert's son in custody, whose fingerprints were found on the knife. Gordon invites Bruce Wayne to the Lambert mansion with him, and Bruce Wayne says he has nothing better to do.

When they arrive at the crime scene, young Lambert insists he is innocent. The lad explains that he arrived home early and saw his father lying on the floor. When he entered the library, he saw a figure escaping out the window. He pulled a knife out of his father's back, and his father's last word was "contract." Lambert's son recalls that his father had three associates, Alfred Stryker, Paul Rogers, and Steve Crane. Steve Crane calls Gordon on the phone. Lambert told Crane that he had received a death threat the previous day. Crane has received a similar death threat, and asks for police protection. Bruce Wayne decides to go home, and Gordon rushes over to the Crane residence.

Steven Crane is killed by a gunman who enters through the window. The thug and his partner steal a paper from Crane and climb onto the roof. They are confronted by a figure they recognize as the Bat-Man, standing in the moonlight. The Bat-Man punches the first thug out, then grabs the second one in a headlock and throws him off the second-story roof. He grabs the paper and escapes as Gordon is pulling up. The GCPD try to arrest the Bat-Man, but they are unable to catch him. Gordon learns that Crane has been murdered, and moves on to the next business partner. The Bat-Man smiles when he reads the paper he stole, and drives off in his automobile.

Paul Rogers visits the laboratory of Alfred Stryker, having learned of Lambert's death by news broadcast. Stryker's assistant Jennings clubs Rogers over the head and ties him up. Jennings explains that he will lower a gas chamber over Rogers and kill him the same way he puts animals to sleep. Jennings leaves to activate the gas. The Bat-Man leaps into the room through an open transom. The Bat-Man grabs a wrench and dives inside the gas chamber before it closes.

He plugs the gas jet with a handkerchief, and busts through the glass with his wrench. Jennings returns and tries to pull a gun on the Bat-Man, but the Bat-Man punches him in the face really hard. Alfred Stryker enters and demands to know what happened. When Rogers explains that Jennings tried to kill him, Stryker pulls out a knife to finish the job. The Bat-Man is hiding in the shadows, and he grabs Stryker from behind to stop him. The Bat-Man explains to Rogers that they were all partners in the Apex Chemical Corporation. Stryker had made secret contracts with all of them to pay them a sum of money each year until he owned the business. He grew tired of waiting and decided to kill them so he wouldn't have to pay. Stryker breaks out of the Bat-Man's grip and pulls a gun on him. The Bat-Man punches Stryker so hard in the face that Stryker breaks through a railing and falls into a tank of acid. The Bat-Man remarks that this is a fitting end for his kind, and leaves via transom. Rogers tries to thank the Bat-Man, but he is already gone.

Later at his house, Commissioner Gordon relates this story to Bruce Wayne. Bruce remarks that this is a lovely fairy tale, and leaves. Gordon thinks to himself that Bruce Wayne is a nice young chap, but he seems to lead a very boring life. Bruce returns home to Wayne Manor, where it's revealed that he is in fact the Bat-Man.

CONTEXT

There is a lot of bad blood behind this creation, so stay with me and we shall go through this...

So the legend says that Bob Kane created Batman when he was a minor and with the help of writer Bill Finger they did the story that was published in Detective Comics. And that is just a legend.

It’s hard to tell if Kane was a minor when he signed his contract to National. He was born in 1915, and that would make him 20 at the time National/Wheeler-Nicholson started the business. We know for sure he wasn’t the “creator” of Batman.

Comics historian Ron Goulart has referred to Batman as the "creation of artist Bob Kane and writer Bill Finger". Bill Finger said this about Bob Kane:

Kane had an idea for a character called 'Batman', and he'd like me to see the drawings. I went over to Kane's, and he had drawn a character who looked very much like Superman with kind of ... reddish tights, I believe, with boots ... no gloves, no gauntlets ... with a small Domino Mask, swinging on a rope. He had two stiff wings that were sticking out, looking like bat wings. And under it was a big sign ... BATMAN.

Finger offered such suggestions as giving the character a cowl instead of the domino mask, a cape instead of wings, adding gloves, and removing the red sections from the original costume. He later said his suggestions were influenced by Lee Falk's popular The Phantom, a syndicated newspaper comic strip character with which Kane was familiar as well, Finger named the character Bruce Wayne after Robert Bruce the Scottish Patriot.

Bob Kane said (and I quote): 

"Bill Finger was a contributing force on Batman right from the beginning... I made Batman a superhero-vigilante when I first created him. Bill turned him into a scientific detective."

Finger wrote both the initial script for Batman's debut in Detective Comics #27 (May 1939) and the character's second appearance, while Kane provided art. Artist Bob Kane negotiated a contract with National Comics, the future DC Comics, that signed away ownership of the character in exchange for, among other compensations, a mandatory byline on all Batman comics (and adaptations thereof). Finger's name, in contrast, does not appear as an official credit on Batman stories or films, even the comics he wrote in the 1940s and 1950s.

To make Bob Kane more of a controversial figure, when Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster were looking for allies against the way National Comics was treating them, they went to Bob Kane, who betrayed them and at the same time re-negotiated his contract (as, like it was mentioned before, it wasn’t legal).

There is a documentary named “Batman & Bill”, that chronicles how Bill Finger created a legend and died penniless and forgotten, and how Finger's heirs, along with writer Marc Tyler Nobleman, finally righted this wrong. It also shines a light on the systemic injustices in Golden Age and Silver Age comics publishing, in which many other brilliant creators were shafted. 

The documentary’s most compelling when it focuses on the relationship between Kane and Finger, two men who couldn't have been more different. Kane, who died in 1998, was a brash, boastful figure, one who saw his creation—and its popularity—as an extension of himself. A classic showman, he greeted fans wearing sharp suits or Bat-cowls, sold original oil paintings of Bats (which the documentary claims were painted by other artists), and wrote a grandiose autobiography. Even when he wasn't around fans, he preened; the documentary makes much of archival footage and audio recordings of Kane extolling his own genius. Bill Finger, on the other hand, obsessively researched weird facts, and kept a giant notebook full of scraps and notes that he could use in the next Batman comic—information gleaned from riding the bus for hours on end, staring out at the city and recording what he saw. Batman's tragic backstory sprang from his own dark imagination, as did most of the hero’s other defining traits, and even feverish gimmicks like having Batman fight on giant typewriters or dodge giant pennies. But that creativity came with isolation: He made only one appearance at a 1965 convention, and did almost no interviews.

So yes, these days DC found a loophole (I suppose) and even though they still add the byline of “Created by Bob Kane”, they modified it to “Created by Bob Kane with Bill Finger”. I understand this was agreed by the Kane estate.

I think this Ty Templeton comic pretty much encapsulates the Batman created by Bob Kane...

REVIEW

A small synopsis for the other features I am following here. Crimson Avenger is dealing with a mysterious gambling-related murder. Bart Regan is trying to prevent the assassination of all the partners in a company (almost like the Batman story). And Slam Bradley is looking for his federal agent friend who went missing in Switzerland.

Of course the main attraction here is Batman, but I should put some emphasis on how the other features are changing and getting a bit more serious.

The Batman story has been remade several times, so this is not my favorite version of it. However, it is amazing that so many details of the Batman we know today are there already. And it feels too obvious for us, but the reveal at the end that Bruce Wayne is Batman may have been a mind-blower at the time.

I could go on and on about the many things in Batman’s style, but there are too many sources you can check about those.

Happy 80th anniversary, Batman!

I give the stories a score of 8

[fandomtrash-16]

The Demon’s Trap

So I’ve been working on something and I finally finished it! It’s kinda long so read it at your own choice if you want idk. this is basically an intro to my version of the ink demon, his beast form at least. (i have nothing more to say so ima stop while im ahead)

Lost. Lost as hell, in hell.

Henry stumbled, his feet catching on the upturned planks of the old floor; most of which had been broken inwards by something that was clearly much larger than a human. It was unsettling, to say the least. The layers of claw marks, some new and some old, on the nearly desecrated walls that lined the hallway told Henry that this something could still be quite alive.

And if so, he was running right towards it.

At least, he thought he was?

It was nearly impossible to tell. The walls had begun to blend together a while back, and now the twists and turns of adjacent corridors seemed to simply be mirrors of the one Henry was already in. It was disorienting, but then again the blonde hadn’t much time to study his surroundings considering he was being chased- no, hunted, by those freaks with the masks. It was either run or be killed, and he took the chance to run even if he had no clue where he was.

The animator ran past a few more hallways before he finally stopped, leaning his aching body against the wall and gulping down swallows of air, like he were a fish out of the water. Tired, hungry, sore. He didn’t know how much longer he could last like this. He needed this break, but he needed to be somewhere safe even more. Desperately.

But that was the one thing he couldn’t be, not while he was being chased like pray. So all he could do was look around. “It just goes on and on forever, doesn’t it?”

Who was he asking? Himself? Joey? Henry didn’t know.

The creaking of the rotting boards combined with several hushed voices caused the man to tense.

“Shit-!” He muttered, brushing stray strands of blonde hair out of his face. Henry rose, stepping away from the sound. They found him?! How!? He didn’t want to stay and find out, however. The animator began to sprint. Where to? He had no clue. He just had to get out of there.

So he ran. He ran for what seemed like hours, the hallway continuing to twist and turn: like a maze with no exit. He couldn’t tell where he had come from, which halls he’d traveled and which ones were brand new but he didn’t care. He just ran, and he ran for a long time.

So long, that Henry began to think that perhaps he had lost his mind. Maybe he’d been consumed by the ink, or maybe, just maybe, it was all a horrid nightmare. Yes. Yes, perhaps he just fell asleep and this was a dream. But the pain... it felt real. It was real. His exhaustion was real. This was no dream. It was simply a maze of never-ending corridors, one that held no entrance nor exit; as if it were meant as a trap for people. To keep them in.

Or...

Perhaps, it was meant to keep them, or something worse, from getting out.

The animator was about to collapse; ready to accept his death in these endless halls. Until that is, the winding maze of corridors finally opened up into a large room. It was a massive ballroom; elegantly decorated with a deep red carpet, barely worn down as if it never had the chance to be the scene of a waltz. Large columns adorned with crimson ribbons held the ceiling up, the balconies adorned with ribbons of similar color; empty planters hanging from each post of their railings. The lights flickered in brightness, fully illuminated one minute, dim the next. They never went out, however, which Henry found more unsettling than if they were to simply flicker on and off. Despite the rest of the rooms untouched state, the walls and columns were torn half to hell.

“Just what were you trying to contain here Joey?” Henry’s voice echoed out, a question to himself and the creature that once, or still, resided here.

Just across the ballroom rested an audio tape on an old half-table, a message painted out thickly on the wall behind in the accursed black venom that ran through the studio. It read: ‘BLOOD, NOT INK’

....in Henry’s handwriting.

He did a double take as the distance between him and the tape closed. That was definitely his handwriting. His, not the normal chicken-scratch of those other people. Were they even people anymore? What happened while he was gone?

He gingerly pressed down the play button on the recorder, listening as the device clicked the tape into place. It was a second or two before the tape began to play if you could even call it that. The only audio the device produced was like radio static combined with a screeching noise- like nails on a chalkboard. If he wasn’t so busy keeping his hands clamped over his ears to prevent bleeding, Henry would’ve slammed an ax right into the recorder. It played on for a minute more before cutting into absolute silence.

Then he heard it.

Breathing. Low and calm.

And one little staticky word.

“Run.”

Henry’s heartbeat rang in his ears as he stepped back from the recorder, his blue opticals never leaving the table. The static noise returned- though this time it lacked the god awful screeching. (Thankfully). Though it made the animator's heart race even faster. Because this time...

It was coming from behind him.

Slowly he turned coming face to face.... with him.

“B-Bendy?” Panic ravaged his voice, exhaustion giving way to fear. The demon raised its head upwards towards the ceiling in an almost wistful manner. Henry stumbled backward as he took in the beast before him. This wasn’t his creation, it couldn’t be! Yet... it was. And he didn’t seem... too... happy.....

Bendy’s jaws clicked together in slight amusement, jagged teeth grinding against each other as if it were the demons attempt at mocking Henry’s fear. His massive talons gripped the floor with an anger unprecedented in his stance; seemingly seeping towards Henry in waves. The poor man hadn’t even realized he’d bumped into the table until the tape landed against the ground with an audible clatter.

“....r..un...”

Sound crackled through the now damaged tape, though it no longer played the horrid static from before. This time, it was a voice. Unidentifiable yet so damn familiar. A hum against the recorders high pitched whines, fading out, but always returning.

Henry froze. There wasn’t much, but it was there: the bubbly energy of the staticky voice, the perfect forgery of his handwriting, the circumstances of his meeting with the demon. This wasn’t some.. cultist freak’s fever dream.

This was all Bendy’s doing. Wasn’t it?

“The demon...”

“.... call him...”

The recorder cut, leaving only the dying hum of the device.

Static cut through the air once more, but it was different- garbled and low, and coming from the demon.

“S n a g g l e t o o t h”

Bendy seemed to form a smile, his jaw creasing upward in delight as he crawled forwards towards the animator; the low rumble in his throat a hint of what was to come. He snapped his jaws open...

And slammed right into the wall; wood splintering with a jarring crack from the impact. Luckily, Henry had sprinted at the last second, bolting up the barren staircase with zero hesitation- no mind to where he’s going. He didn’t care.

Run, Henry. You heard him.

And run he did, the floor rattling beneath him as the demon shrieked in anger- the same nails on a chalkboard sound as from the tape. Snaggletooth leaped at the balcony, massive talons splintering the wood as he pulled himself upwards, once again lunging for the blonde man. His serrated teeth just barely missed the animator, leaving only a big scratch on his back as the beast’s jaws slammed shut.

This new corridor only had one exit: to a small balcony, the stairs long since collapsed.

“Nonono! Shit!” Henry skid to a stop, facing the creature as it crept ever closer. At least until the crackling sound pulled his attention away. The rotted wood was splintering under their weights, something Snaggletooth took note of- considering he was pressing down evermore with a merciless grin. Thoughts racing, all Henry could think was ‘He doesn’t care if I die, does he?’

With a thunderous crack, the balcony fell, a deep eruptious static sound emitting from the demon.

Laughter.

He was laughing at him.

It was the last thing Henry heard before he hit the floor.

He lay there, vision swirling as a loud ring echoed through his ears. He couldn’t move. All Henry could do was watch as something came into view. It wasn’t the demon, nor did it seem to be a cultist. It was human, a feminine figure whose long blonde hair fell in waves across her back and shoulders. Axe tied across her back, the shirt she wore tattered and torn at the sleeves- much like his own. Her arms and legs were stained with the black ichor Henry had come to despise. But her approach brought something else to light: her mask. It was entirely different from before, a metallic thing in the form of a wolf. It covered her entire face like it was hiding deep secrets behind it.

A wolf in sheep’s clothing, one could say.

She was the last thing Henry would see for a while as everything faded to black.

[cheollies]

Rent a Boyfriend!Seokmin

Lee Seokmin: the ditzy boyfriend. his smile will sweep your friends off their feet, he purchases silly couple items and showcases them and he’ll even provide various gags to show just how funny he is. extra services include showcasing his beautiful voice that’ll make your friends wish he was their boyfriend.

One of the most popular amongst older females

they love having a younger ‘boyfriend’ to spoil as well as be spoiled

He’s often brought to late night friend gatherings on the weekends, you know those gatherings where everyone is just drinking and talking about life and stuff

Although he may be a few years younger than everyone, he gets along so well with them and just makes everyone laugh with his jokes and funny impressions

all the girls fall for him at some point in the night and it’s like ‘waahh i’m so jealous of your boyfriend, where can i find one like him’

He’s the type to do the walrus with chop sticks because why not

also the faces that he pulls, wow, it’s got everyone laughing their eyes out

at some point in the night, he’s probably headed to karaoke because, it’s a group of intoxicated people, what else do you expect from these people

and here is when he sings sweetly to the point that all the girls are screaming ‘AAAHHHHHH’

Seokmin’s favorite dates are dates to amusement parks. He has a lot of those in the summer.

and this is when he gets to pull out the closet filled couple clothes and he’s screaming because he wants to wEAR EVERYTHING IN THE CLOSET

Couple shirts. Check. Couple necklaces. Check. Couple shoes. Check. Couples bracelets. Check.

He’s just really into couple items okay

Also the type to bring back those gigantic bags of popcorn as well as the huge stuffed pig that he won because

‘LOOK LOOK AT WHAT I WON. LOOOOOOKK’

Seungkwan: oh my god

when he’s not out winning stuffed animals, you can often find him sitting at the coffee shop in the building and watching everything go down

like yeah, he saw Chan run into the door

He saw Soonyoung trip over air

He saw Seungcheol run into the pole

He saw Joshua hide his food behind the pot in the corner and stole some of it

Seokmin’s got eyes everywhere

and he’s often just sucking on a straw watching everything go down, and he’s not even drinking coffee too, it’s usually juice

He’s someone who’s also pretty tight with the rent a girlfriends so sometimes he’s just there and Jeonghan walks in on him spilling about his day to Jeonghan’s s/o as if it was the most normal thing on earth

and because Seokmin is so sweet and nice to everyone, they all just develop this protective aura when it comes to this man

literally all the rent a boyfriends and girlfriends ganged up on this one client that had gotten mad that Seokmin spilled something on her during the date

and boy did she get an earful from everyone as they all stand protectively in front of Seokmin as they all tell her to ‘get the hell out’

You are a new recruit for a rent a girlfriend

Basically one could say you were the girl version of Chan’s type

and despite being new, you were highly popular so Seokmin never really saw you much but everyone talked about you

about how cute and small you were, and how nice and sweet you were, and how everyone just had the urge to want to hug you because you were too cute

and Seokmin is kinda like ‘okay she sounds really cute’

the first time he saw you, you were walking into the building, dressed in the cutest of sundresses, the cutest updo, the most heavenly smile on your lips,

He literally stands from his position at the coffee shop, being on the second floor, he walks to the railing and stares down to the first floor

and wow

He’s so taken, he’s been shook, his heart has been stolen, everything about him just wants to run down and talk to you

And you know what, he did just that

He’s all out of breath, his hair became a fluffy mess, he’s huffing and puffing when he reaches you, and he smiles like the sun, ‘i’m Seokmin’

You two end up talking for days

With the exchange of numbers, Seokmin’s heart flutters with each ‘bing’ of his phone, he even ends up ignoring all his other friends in order to continue talking to you

And when you tell him ‘goodnight’ he begs, he pleads

‘Just ten more minutes’

you two end up walking together a lot in the building, with giggles, and smiles, with hearts going wild, and literal hearts on your eyes

and now everyone in the building is like ‘the two softest people, the cutest, please get together’

and you know what, it’s like two weeks into meeting and y’all already went on a date

do you know how many people screamed

just imagine the entire building losing their shit over you two

‘SEOKMIN AND Y/N ARE DATING’

People are running around, papers are flying, everyone is screaming, it’s like valentine’s day, it’s so chaotic

#1 otp in the building

Everyone in the building just protects you two, you two are everyone’s children

Once, a client had gotten mad at you, and boy was Seokmin not happy about it, he literally comes storming, and because Seokmin is storming, everyone else is coming along

and now a ‘protect y/n’ circle has formed thanks to Seokmin

Ooohhh boy when his birthday comes

You know just how much Seokmin loves dogs, you literally have to pull him away from all the shelters because he always wants to adopt dogs

you got special permission to bring in not just one dog, nah, you brought the entire shelter to him

so just imagine over twenty dogs running around the first floor, people are cuddling and hugging the dogs, and you made the dogs these cute little signs for Seokmin

Everyone is waiting for Seokmin to return from his date and when he’s coming no one really realizes because DOGOOS

but anyway

Seokmin walks into the building and is attacked by ten dogs, all of whom are wearing signs that say ‘happy birthday Seokmin’ with glitter and hearts all over them

and when he looks up, he sees you there, standing in the midst of all the dogs, a cute small cupcake in your hand with a candle

and he has to move through twenty dogs in order to catch you, he holds you by the waist, he blows out the candle and kisses you with a smile

The moment he kisses you, everyone is popping those really small confettis and he’s giggling so much into the crook of your neck.

Probably tries to take one of the dogs home and you have to be like

‘Babe pls. Not today’

he’s always been in love with you. ever since he saw you smile in that godly beautiful dress (which he stole from the stylist and gave to you btw). he just cannot take his eyes off you for he fears you might leave. he wants to always be with you, to never let you go. because well, he just loves you that much. 

[alisonembers]

Cogs and Queens (Eberron Fan Fic) - Week 9

Content Warning: Course Language, Depression, Assault.

—————————————————–

Google Drive Link for correctly formatted version with NSFW content: https://drive.google.com/file/d/18CWsnlyu_a3ZKcDc-oD6fWQyxn-L0nrt/view?usp=sharing

The glass fell around Mercury, a trail of blood following from behind, the bullet resting in their lower left hip. I knew something wasn’t right. No certificate to pardon me when the job was done. No way to confirm what Tal was doing was legit. I trusted him. They hit the deck of the airship with a loud thud, the planks of wood rattling Mercury to the bone.

“Get someone onto them!” one of the Veterans shout.

Mercury rolls over onto their stomach and begins crawling towards the stairs leading down below deck.

Multiple crewmates of the ship back away from Mercury, keeping a close eye on them, whispers from their lips directed at one another.

Mercury crawls down the stairs slowly, eventually hoisting themselves on the railing. They walk carefully, their legs wobbly, their back in intense pain. How am I going to get this fixed? They look around the deck as many men and women watch cautiously. Mercury hobbles towards some large crates marked with the Jorasco symbol, a family known for healing supplies operating in the upper city. They grip around the edges of the lid with their mechanical hand, ripping it off with a crunch. A single potion? It’s small, but it will help. They grip the small potion, and apply the liquid to the area of the wound. It sizzles as the skin slowly grows into place, and Mercury lets out a pained moan. They close their eyes as footsteps come towards them from behind.

“Mercury, you got out,” Tal says, shocked.

Mercury swings around, their canines showing with intimidation. “What the fuck was that, Tal!? You snitched on me!?”

Tal raises his hands. “It’s not what it looks like.”

Mercury steps towards them, their eyes narrow, their limp suppressed from adrenaline. “It very well fucking is what it looks like! Money too good, huh? Fuck me one night, fuck me over in the morning? Burn in hell!”

“Mercury, what did you expect me to do? Put my life on the line to try and save yours?”

“Yes, actually!” Mercury cries, tears forming at the corners of their eyes.

“Fuck! That ain’t the type of man I am.” Tal says, stepping back.

“Fucking clearly. Get a taste of sweet nostalgia, get paid for it, and dip,” Mercury says.

“Look. I’m sorry. You got away, right? I knew you would! When we get to the lower city, you can go back into hiding.”

Mercury grunts in pain as they feel their hip. They look at their mechanical hand, blood staining the silver. “Got away?” Mercury says, shaking the blood from their hand onto the floor.

Tal moves closer. “Let me get a look at that.”

Mercury whips their revolver from their holster, aiming it at Tal. “I think you’ve had enough time to look at me.”

“Mercury, please, don’t be like that,” Tal says, his hand slowly moving for his rifle slung around his back.

Mercury aims at Tal’s hand, and as they pull the trigger, Tal dodges to the side, the shot echoing through the deck.

He rotates his rifle around his torso into his hands, taking a shot at Mercury.

Mercury slides behinds a steel table, kicking it sideways, the bullet inside the wound throbbing. Fuck!

“Mercury, please! It doesn’t have to be like this!” Tal shouts, loading another bullet into his lever-action rifle.

“You’re a corporate shill! A fucking rat!” Mercury calls from behind the table. “You know what I think about men like you?”

“Mercury, if you were in my position, you would have given me up too. The money was too good,” Tal says.

“I’m starting to wonder if you ever really knew me!” Mercury slides out of cover on their right, fanning the hammer of their revolver three times.

Tal ducks behind a steel post, the clang of bullets ricocheting into the wood walls, floors, and roof around him. He ducks back out, taking two shots at Mercury as they run for another steel post.

Mercury cracks the revolver forward, loading new bullets to replace the expended ones. They slow their breathing, listening out for Tal. A creak comes from around the post, and Mercury ducks out, firing twice with both hands on the grip.

Tal dodges out of the way and grabs Mercury’s right wrist. With his more immense strength, he throws Mercury down, their revolver flying out of their hands.

As Mercury meets the ground, their wrist makes a loud snap, and the bullet lodged in their hip disturbs and opens the wound. Mercury lets out a sharp yelp, squirming on the floor pinned, their tail thrashing like an animal caught in a bear trap.

“Mercury. Stop. Please. I just broke your right wrist. If you plan on knowing what the sensation of touch is like for a while longer, I beg you to stop.” Tal rests his knee on Mercury’s stomach, pinning them down further.

Mercury launches their mechanical fist into Tal’s temple, knocking him sideways.

Tal rolls over, holding his forehead. “Mercury! Stop!”

Mercury looks at him, tears streaming down their cheek, blood soaking their coat. “I can’t believe you…” Mercury says, broken. “Kill me here. Now. Get it over with.”

“No,” Tal says.

“Coward,” Mercury says, sniffling.

Tal stands up and walks to a storage crate. “When the ship lands, I’m taking you to my sister. She’ll know how to fix your fleshy wrist.”

“I’d also appreciate this bullet getting out of my fucking hip,” Mercury says, their voice cracking.

“Glad I gave you that Whisky, Mousey,” he says, pulling out a brown cloak from the crate.

Mercury rolls their head to face the ceiling, water streaming to the floorboards beneath them, mixing with red. “I can’t fucking believe you ratted me out.”

“I’ll give you half the gold,” Tal says, wrapping the cloak around Mercury. He unloads the revolver and pockets the ammo. “Believe me, I’m sorry this happened.”

I don’t believe you for a second.

      V

 Tal carries Mercury through the house’s front door, the cloak hiding their identity. “Kal!” he calls out.

“What!?” a woman calls from another room.

“I have Mousey! They’re hurt!”

“Mousey!?” Kal calls out.

“Mercury is here!” Tal says.

A half-orc woman comes rushing from the room over, the same height as Tal. She pulls the hood of Mercury’s temporary cloak back, revealing their sad eyes and pale face. “What happened?” she asks, looking up at Tal.

“We got into a bit of a fight. I went a little far. They also got shot in the back from a guard.”

Kal takes Mercury into their arms, holding them like a child. “C’mere, honey.”

Mercury closes their eyes. I can’t fucking believe him. Kal begins to walk while carrying them, entering a room with a nicely made bed, expensive cabinets, and dragon-themed tapestry.

Kal takes them over to the bed, laying them down gently. They move across the room and begin sifting through a cabinet.

“Kal… He rat me out to the guard,” Mercury says, their voice shaky.

“He fucking what?” Kal asks, placing a beaker onto a metal tray.

“I trusted him like…”

“Like what?” Kal asks with frustration building in their voice, placing a syringe onto the metal tray with other alchemical liquids.

“I don’t know. He’s not like a brother… Fucked too many times as a teen for that. Last night too.”

“My asshole brother fucked you last night and then snitched?” Kal asks with a face of rage.

“Yeah,” Mercury says, closing their eyes.

“Tal! You asshole!” Kal yells. She mixes a blue liquid with a red one inside a beaker, creating purple bubbles that float to the top, yet the two mix like strands refusing to bond.

Tal walks in with a look of shame coated across his face. “Yeah, look, I know.”

Kal pulls out some fine thread and a needle. “You don’t do that to somebody, Tal! That’s fucking abusive and evil!”

“The guard offered me five hundred gold,” Tal says.

“Honestly, I’d akin it to assault!” Kal yells, pouring a yellow liquid into the beaker mix, making all the liquids bond together.

“When you put it like that…” Tal says, looking away.

“You look at me when you speak!” Kal says. “You don’t do that. If you had just sold them out without the sex the previous night to gain their compliance, I would have been disappointed. But I am beyond disappointed with you. How the fuck do you think Mercury feels knowing their life is worth five hundred gold to you?” Kal looks down at Mercury, their eyes streaming with water again.

Mercury clears their throat. “Can you tell Tal to leave the room?” they say in a low broken voice to Kal.

Kal nods. “Get out.”

Tal nods, leaving the room. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to roll you over so I can get a look at the wound, okay? Your wrist is going to hurt more while moving,” Kal says, threading the needle.

Mercury nods and rolls over with the assistance of Kal, their right wrist throbbing in pain.

“Well, it could be worse,” Kal says. “Stay still.”

Mercury feels something cold press into the wound. They shriek, feeling the bullet rip through the burnt flesh from the potion.

“Good…” Kal says. They begin threading the needle through Mercury’s wound, hearing them whimper, and she starts tightening the opening, sealing it shut. “Okay, I need you to roll over again, sweety.”

Mercury rolls onto their back again, their right wrist throbbing once more, feeling it in their elbow.

Kal places the end of the syringe into the beaker, drawing out a large amount of liquid. “I am going to inject this into your wrist. It will make it heal quickly,” they grab a large cylinder of cork. “Bite down on this. It’s going to hurt more than it did breaking.”

Mercury bites down on the cork, and as Kal slides the syringe into Mercury’s wrist, they scream loudly as tears continue to drop down their face. They grip the sheets tightly with their metal fingers, the motors whirring in each joint—their tail curls in the blanket, tighter and tighter. The world around them grows darker as their vision narrows onto a reflection above them on the roof. Their eyes shift color from a gray human iris to a deep void black. Whispers from an unknown origin begin to fill the room, and the lanterns nearby begin to flicker from an orange glow to a dim silver light.

 Everything was black.

“You’re not supposed to be here. Not yet, at least.”

 To be continued…