#went up to the bigger city and went to the only place sorta close that had jellycats irl

[bucketnspade]

Saw many jellycats!!!!

[ratgingi]

some margo content because i need to figure out how to draw her more . plus some misc facts abt her under cut

i cant remember if i mentioned it before or not but she tends to change jobs often, she hasn't been fired from any but instead she will pick up jobs and quit them a few months later after she grows bored with them. the places in town she's worked at include the arcade (she worked there before exie, and exie only worked with her for a few weeks as by the time she started the job margo was already getting ready to work elsewhere), the petstore (it was her first job in town, and well before outis was in the picture), the funfair (she worked at one of the game stalls), and the mcphonalds (where she and juniper met). shes also worked at a couple places outside city limits. a good chunk of the places she's worked at are still open to her to go back to as she is a decent employee who works hard at her jobs and learns fast. there are a few places shed never even consider though either because theyd take too long to be qualified for or just seem generally uninteresting to her.

the tattoo/piercing parlor she currently works at wouldnt be a place youd get to actually visit in her route but would probably be mentioned in passing a couple times

while growing up whenever she would act too 'girly' her father would pay their neighbors to teach her more 'manly' things, so as a result she knows how to do a handful of more technical things like minor car repairs/put together furniture/etc, and also went through some fighting classes and stuff. shes also good at things like repairing clothes and cooking because addy made sure to teach her stuff like that as well

she also has a number of random talents/general things she can do from hobbies she got into and since dropped, things like crochet, gardening, baking, etc etc. she isnt Fantastic at any of them really but shes decent at them. jack of many ace of none type deal

adelaide was actually the one who helped her pick her name bc when she was trying to figure out what she wanted to be called she asked her if she had any ideas and addy told her that she'd had the name margo picked out for her before she was born

she likes doing puzzles and stuff, the bigger or more complicated the better. she has a couple 3d puzzle figures hanging out in her house but they change often as she gets bored of seeing the same ones. theres a closet in her hallway that has nothing but the boxes past puzzles she's finished stay in

she has a big heart, but because of her issues with connection she refuses to let her more caring side show in the hopes it'll help others not to get too attached to her. she isnt rude or anything like that and if someone is clearly in need of some sort of shoulder to cry on she tends to soften up but otherwise youre most likely to get a distant n cold politeness, she believes that by doing so shes doing you a favor and would rather keep herself closed off than hurt you if her whole attachment issue acts up. however if she doesnt like you she just flat out wont interact with you no matter how much you try. you could be standing in front of her waving your hands in her face and she'll act like you dont exist to the point of actually walking into you and not acknowledging it if need be

during her route the player would be able to accompany her to do things like run errands around town, which is sorta the sign that youve Made It because youre allowed to just sorta exist with her without her insisting you go do something else/trying to keep away from you yknow. her way of showing affection is pretty much just i allow you to exist near me/i choose to exist near you and on the surface literally stops there so

the only person she considers herself to be genuinely close to is her mother, and even then from a distance you wouldnt even really be able to tell that theyre close from her end. addys a pretty vocally affectionate person and is also the only person margo allows to do things like hug/pat her (addy still does so sparingly and asks before hand for the sake of margos comfort <3)

when she got her first tattoo she sorta did so in an effort to make herself commit to something but has since forgotten that motivation for them and now just likes getting them because they look cool

she has really pretty handwriting because she went through a phase where she was really into calligraphy. for technical things like letters/important papers/what have you she writes in print but otherwise she likes doing it really fancy and would probably be one of those people who writes stupid shit in fancy letters on tiktok

she has a big thing about honesty, as shes pretty good at telling when people are lying even if she doesnt really know them. this is partially why trying to lie and come up with a fake answer when asking her out would result in her turning you down bc 1. doesnt really seem interesting and 2. she can tell youre not telling her the truth and decides she has better things to do

[noodleodoodleo]

The use of town in project SEKAI

Ok so this has been bugging me forever but what does "town" in project sekai actually mean. At first, I just laughed it off like 'haha they say town even though they live in Tokyo one of the biggest cities in the world' but the more I think about it the more it bugs me, is this a translation error? is there some weird nuance in the kanji they use? or does this have something to do with how Japanese cities work? So I went digging and from what I found it's all of the above, kinda.

First of all, I am not a Japanese native and I do not speak Japanese, so I am still not 100% sure about this matter but I'll just recount what I found from my research.

Now onto the first thing I researched could it have something to do with the way Japanese cities are structured? I don't know about cities in general but Tokyo is kinda weird, internationally, Tokyo is seen as a singular entity one big city but the thing is, it's not. Tokyo is more akin to a prefecture with many cities, towns and villages within it. Officially Tokyo isn't even called "Tokyo", it's "Tokyo-to" also translated as "Tokyo metropolis" (at least that's what the official government translates it as), but what difference does that make? Maybe that's just me as a non-native English speaker but I always thought that a metropolis only ever refers to a single big city but one Wikipedia search later reveals that it is not always a singular city but sometimes refers to a "conurbation", after clicking the link on that I found out that means multiple towns, cities, etc that have grown so much they merged into one continuous urban area (oh so that's where the word came from con-tinuous and urban so con-urban). So Tokyo is kinda like that many different cities, towns and villages that sorta merged. So problem solved right the usage of town is just literally one town in the Tokyo metropolis. Wrong, because we know for a fact that they are situated in Shibuya and that's a bit of a problem because Shibuya is a special ward, basically a municipality, which in turn is a small region with it's own local government see cities, towns and villages. Anyway special ward it's special because it's within the borders of where the ancient city of Tokyo was before it was abolished (I know right Tokyo was abolished?!) and well Shibuya is right in the middle of that area completely surrounded by other special wards so no way is there space for another separate town in there.

For an in-game reason as to why the town the people in the vbs story (oh yeah they only ever talk about the town in the vbs story) talk about couldn't be a separate town is the main story: Kohane goes to the cd store, which we know from the map is right by scramble crossing which, if you didn't know about Japanese landmarks, is right in the middle of Shibuya. And the store clerk redirected her to a different store that Kohane could walk to so, clearly, it wasn't far away and Shibuya is not a small area. And well she got lost and ended up on vivid street. That places vivid street and the "town" people talk about close to scramble crossing in the middle of Shibuya. Also, I forgot to mention the "town" people talk about refers to vivid street.

So that's a dead end, maybe it has something to do with the kanji? I know that Japanese is like super ambiguous and contextual while at the same time being hyperspecific so it being a Japanese thing might be a possibility. So I looked up the word for town and immediately there was a problem, Japanese has two words for town and you wanna know the best part? Both can be pronounced "machi" (you know like the song). So what's the difference... and well for one their Kanji one is "町" and the other is "街". So which one does project sekai use? It uses the second one. And apparently the difference is that the first one refers to smaller towns something bigger than a village and the second one refers to something even bigger but still smaller than a city like a village is smaller than 町 and that is smaller 街 and then the city. But can't be it right? If that is really all there is to it then why do they call vivid street that? So I dug deeper and thank god there's more to it than just one is bigger than the other. It turns out that 街, our machi, can also refer to a street or something like a downtown area. Think a few street that are pretty densely populated and referred to as one area, whereas 町 is used for like actual towns that have their own government and stuff. The reason why 町 is seen as smaller is probably because it would be less dense/more rural while 街 is literally just an area in a city see more people more densely populated and more urban. And in that context, the word makes so much sense when referring to vivid street.

The translation is a bit confusing but now that I've delved into this rabbit hole I can see that there really isn't a better translation (at least I couldn't think of one) but it's a bit confusing, especially to an audience that is made to believe that Tokyo is one single city, technically you could say that the special wards of Tokyo could probably just count as the city of Tokyo but that isn't true now is it. I still can't get over that fact like holy shit Tokyo isn't actually a thing.

But this changes literally nothing it might be some interesting trivia but yea have fun with this knowledge.

[vegalocity]

Secret kisses and Touching 2, 14, 22, 23, and 44. Secret Silktea relationship, except both spider fam and Monkey fam actually know! Half of them don’t care enough to say anything (Pigsy,Tang,Spider Queen,Wukong,Syntax) while the other half wants them to reveal it when they’re ready (Min Yi,MK,Mei,Goliath,Sis) - Pixel Anon

Affection meme

49. secret kisses

2. running fingers through hair

14.putting an arm around the other’s waist

22.falling asleep on the other’s shoulder

23. carrying the other one in their arms

44.sitting on the other’s lap

this took me forever to put together because for some ungodly reason i couldn't figure out the scenario

so i decided on a little vignette compilation of sorts

--

They knew what they were doing.

Of course they knew what they were doing. It was in either of their best interests to keep this a secret. Just because the clan had stopped their crusade to take over the city and their queen had dialed down the ‘revenge’ ideas, didn’t mean there wasn’t still bad blood between his clan and Sandy’s family.

And it wasn’t too difficult, it just meant that when they were all working together for some greater threat or whatever that they’d have to be sneaky. It was easy stealth was one of Huntsman’s greatest Attributes and suspecting Blue of anything was like suspecting a small dog of knocking over a bulldozer.

It wasn’t too hard to simply keep their hands to themselves. Or at least, it wasn’t hard for Sandy, Huntsman was quickly finding his self control lacking in regard to being in such a situation with his… well, with him. But could anyone blame him? Blue was more or less the hottest guy he’d ever ran into before and he was kinda-sorta DATING him! How could he not want to climb that like a tree at all times?

Especially when he was always being so stupidly fucking charming. Sure the ‘needlessly nice’ stuff wasn’t something he particularly appreciated, but it was starting to grow on him, if only on the amount of restraint he must have to keep it up all the time.

Soooo yeah maybe he was purposefully pushing their luck a little, but in his defense he wanted to see how much desire based frustration it would take before ol’ Blue would just pin him against a wall and make him regret wondering.

--

Syntax had shooed him away from being a nuisance at his worktable, so naturally, Huntsman had to go be a nuisance at someone else’s worktable. Thankfully Sandy was far more agreeable to the company, and thankfully the bid of ‘Bugging Syntax first’ kept his alibi solid. He wasn’t just going over to see Blue he just wanted to be a louse and his normal target had already locked him out of his room. And so nobody really suspected anything when he started to peer over Sandy’s side to watch him tighten this or that thing on this or that device.

And it was pretty damn fun to see just how much of a ‘nuisance’ he could be. This particular bout resulting ih Huntsman being pressed against the car engine Blue had been working on, feeling the orange hair slide between his claws and messing up the stylized mohawk and shuddering when he felt those huge hands almost entirely encompass either of his thighs while keeping him aloft. He hissed through his teeth as he felt Blue give one of his legs a testing squeeze and rolled his hips forward a bit-

“Fish Demon? I need to get another set of eyes on these schematics or I'll actually go insane.” By the time Syntax looked up from his clipboard Sandy was working on the engine again and Huntsman was leaning against his work area and had barely had the opening to whip out one of his knives and his portable sharpener.

Though Sandy’s hair was unable to be fixed and fell to a side as he smiled at Syntax and took the offered blueprints from him.

--

He wasn’t a big fan of those domestic snatches of time, he wasn’t.

It was mostly an instinctual response, Spiders were pack bonders, so of course when his internal senses started categorizing Sandy as ‘pack’ then he’d relax without intending to while being pulled in with a hand on his waist.

Which was definitely the reason why he was curled up to Sandy’s side, the cool slick feeling of his scales strange against his more leather-like skin. That stupid instinct was the only real reason why he felt so comfortable and like he could practically fall asleep like this.

He felt Blue’s hand gently start running up and down his side and dammit that wasn’t playing fair, it wasn’t his fault that he had been having sleeping problems lately and was rapidly getting drowsy.

He could feel Blue’s hum as the world started to drift away-

“Hey Sandy what do you think- Uhhhh”

“Oh, hello Xiaotian.”

“You know you’ve got a spider on you, right?”

“Oh yeah, Looked like he was having some paranoia problems, took a bit of wheedling to get out but Huntsman here was up for like four days straight ‘till now!”

“Did… Did you slip him your sleepy tea?”

“Of course not! That would be super unethical! Also I'm pretty sure he’s still semi conscious and passively listening without any critical thought right now since he only just dozed off and would probably wake up angry if he overheard anything like that!”

“....right… so anyway-”

--

The brat knew.

Dammit he knew the brat knew. She definitely fucking knew.

He should have known better than to try anything with that Professional Snoop underfoot. But He’d had plans with Blue before having to get stuck with the brat tonight because the Queen needed Syntax’s expertise and the Sister was on shift at work and Goliath already had plans doing who knows what, and he was stuck with Minyi since he ‘didn’t have any plans’

He’d dragged his feet on the idea of cancelling with Blue, but he’d fucking done it so nobody could say he didn’t contribute to the upkeep of their clan’s youngest. It was just his luck that Sandy had been fine with coming over instead, and the brat had overheard some of the conversation and got excited about ‘Mr Sandy’ coming over to visit. The brat had insisted on stringing some of her fake flowers into his hair before he arrived, after dubbing him ‘suitably pretty’ (her words) she’d done up her own hair as similarly as she could because he certainly wasn’t helping her with her weird pre-’company is coming’ rituals.

And… Blue was a hit with the brat. He had an infinite amount of patience for the inane childish babbling, stooped low so she could string the remaining fake flowers in her possession (why did she have so many fake flowers?) into his beard, and offered to fix dinner for the lot of them (which was for the best since the brat was such a picky eater she could barely stomach some of his specialties)

And… he was not jealous of a six year old for how she was able to crawl into Blue’s lap while the lot of them watched some inane mystery show for the character drama alone since the brat called and explained the mystery within the first three minutes.

Blue was a bit awkward on the sofa, it made sense, Goliath would normally sit on the floor for how the height and width of the couch was not designed with bigger demons in mind, and Blue was considerably bigger than Goliath. So while the brat was cozy as could be in the place of honor, Huntsman was stuck perched on the arm of the couch as to not be crushed into it trying to squeeze in beside Blue.

Not that that would be a wholly unpleasant experience, but the presence of the brat made it go from tempting to awkward. Nonetheless, part of Sandy trying to get comfortable had included one of his arms resting on the back of the couch, and while it seemed the brat wasn’t paying attention, it slid down to wrap around his shoulders.

When the time came Minyi didn’t need to be told it was bed time for her, she loudly announced it herself, changed into her pajamas, and after saying goodnight to the both of them went on with a

“I am going to sleep now! And I will not be out of my room until morning so if anything were to be happening I certainly won’t know it, because I will be asleep.”

She smiled widely at Huntsman and closed her door.

Nosey little brat.

--

Tang huffed a quiet laugh as Sandy gingerly began to lift Huntsman into the air, his broken leg not quite able to be splinted just yet, let alone looked at properly. It seemed the lot of them had suffered some pretty nasty injuries from this last threat (and no doubt it would have been worse if their team and the Spider Clan hadn’t joined forces) including Tang himself despite being on the sidelines for most of it, he was pretty sure his shoulder was dislocated, and the cut on his forehead was still sluggishly bleeding all over the right side of his face, but compared to some of the others he was basically fine.

So once He was able to pop his arm back into place (Ouch) he took to handling cleanup with the only other ‘perfectly normal person’ here, a woman maybe a few years his junior, he’d seen her every so often with the Spider Clan (or rather, with Syntax) but he didn’t know her name.

“Do you think they actually think they’re being subtle?” Her words caught his attention and he turned to glance at the woman. She was in the middle of splinting Xiaojiao’s broken wrist and at Tang’s questioning glance, she nodded at Sandy and Huntsman. Oh!

“I’m sure Sandy thinks he’s the pinnacle of subtlety” Tang responded. He was pretty sure the ‘thing’ that had developed between their friend and the most brutal of the Spider Clan was the worst kept secret on the team since Red Son had started hanging out with Xiaotian and Xiaojiao on the weekends.

“They are so cute when you just walk in on them.” Xiaojiao said around a snicker. “Like how they jump apart like when you flip a magnet over to the matching side.”

“Does your team have a betting pool? My brother organized one for the clan, and if they do anything damning within the next month i win the pot.”

“No! Ohh man we should get one started up! Hey Pigsy! You wanna make a betting Pool for Sandy and Huntsman’s secret romance?”

“Why the hell would i want to do that?”

“Finally have dirt on Sandy after decades of him never being embarrassed about anything ever?” Tang offered with a shrug.

Pigsy thought for a moment and shrugged back before going back to fussing over Xiaotian. “Sure. Who’s bettin’ what?”

--

send me stuff!

[kareofbears]

plainly in truth, chapter 5/5

"Without you around, it's sorta like stuff is just kinda...bleh."

Or: hiding, confiding, and misguiding.

read the final chapter below or the entire work on ao3

—

“Help us, Saras—” a stream of coughing rings out, eating up the rest of the words.

“What the hell happened!?”

“I don’t know! One minute he was kicking ass, and the next—”

“He’s down! Oracle, scan him for signs of life.”

Their voices sound far and muffled, like he was under a foot of ice.

“He’s alive, I know he is. Kikur…” More coughing, wet and almost retching. “Dammit!”

“Skull hasn’t moved in ages and we pumped him with more Diaharan than we know what to do with!”

“Then why isn’t he moving?”

He feels like he got hit with back-to-back garbage trucks, all fully loaded with an entire city’s trash and was going eighty down the freeway.

“I...I don’t know…!”

“Why not? Why the hell not?”

“Joker!”

“Unicorn—” Actual retching comes this time, sporadically. “Why isn’t—!”

“Please stop! You’re only going to get yourself hurt!”

“Akira. Quit it, or I’ll cast a Dormin so strong you’ll wake up next year.”

A groan escapes his lips, and all arguing stops.

“Oh thank god,” Makoto’s voice sighs in relief. “Skull? Can you hear us?”

“Skull?” A leather-clad hand touches his cheek. “Are you with me?”

Ryuji suddenly bolts upright. “Konoe!” The whole world lurching sideways but he ignores the nausea. “Where is he?”

“Gone,” Yusuke replies. He’s looking slightly better than when he last saw him, able to stand on his feet again. “Disappeared, just like the rest of them. In no small part thanks to you.”

“It was more than that,” Haru disagrees. “It was nearly completely thanks to him. Your last battle with him was quite a spectacle.”

“It really was,” Sophia agrees. “You got hit near the end, though.”

“Oh,” he forces a laugh. “My bad. Must’ve worried you guys. Thanks for the heal.”

“‘Thanks for the heal’?”

Any levity that was present gets sucked away as Akira pulls his hand away from him, expression unreadable. “It wasn’t just a heal, Ryuji. It was a Recarm.”

He winces, eyes darting away. “That must’ve been scary for you,” he mutters. “Sorry.”

“I’m not interested in an apology. I’m looking for an explanation.”

“What am I supposed to explain? He caught me off guard, it happens. I might be good, but I’m not getting out of a fight with the creator of the Metaverse Part Two without a scratch.”

“It was a scratch. I’ve seen you take bullets better than that,” Akira says flatly. “The strangest thing about all this is that I think you knew about this. I think you knew what would happen if you got hit, no matter how light it was.”

Do not panic. Do not panic. “Spit it out. What are you trying to say?”

“I think something’s up and you’re hiding something from me.”

“Guys,” Futaba whispers. “Don’t fight.”

Akira turns on her, taking in her expression for a long moment before his eyes widen. “You know about it,” he realizes.

“What?!”

“You knew that he changed, and you didn’t tell me.” His eyes flashed. “Futaba, he could’ve died, and you didn’t say anything.”

“Stop it.” Ann’s voice was low and hard. “Don’t take out what you’re feeling on her.”

Looking away from Futaba, Akira scans each and everyone of their faces, and it dawns on him. “You knew.” Hurt takes up every syllable, heavy but small at the same time. “You all knew, and nobody told me. I can’t believe this.”

“Don’t get mad at them,” Ryuji snaps. There’s no way he’s letting his friends take the fall for his own actions. “You’re getting worried over nothing. I took a hit—that’s it. Bad guy defeated, let’s move on.”

“I’m not moving on if people on my team, people that I thought I could trust are hiding things from me,” he insists. “Especially you. Dammit, Ryuji, I thought I could trust you!”

His stomach doesn’t twist. Instead, a gigantic pair of scissors made up of Akira’s words goes ahead and snips off his stomach from his intestines, and he’s free falling with nowhere to crash land.

“What the fuck else do you want from me?” Everyone but Akira flinches at his words. “I beat Konoe, didn’t I? You were worried about that, you wanted to retreat because you thought I wouldn’t be able to do it, but I did it!”

“What I want from you is to be safe. That’s it.”

“But that shouldn’t be the only thing you want! Don’t you want us to win? Don’t you want us to be able to finish what we started?”

Akira shakes his head, frustrated, and starts rummaging through his pockets.

“What are you doing?”

“We aren’t fighting here.” A Goho-M flashes in his palm, and before anyone can say anything, they blink and suddenly they’re at the entrance of the Jail again. “Everyone, get out.”

Ryuji glares at him as the rest scurries to the entrance as quickly as possible without making it look like they’re making a run for it. Akira stares back.

“...Fine.”

The familiar but unpleasant swirl between the transition of the Jail and the real world takes over them, feeling their cells tear apart from each other before instantly clicking back into place, and then they were at the foot of the Tenboto tower.

Akira’s eyes don’t leave his. “Everyone who isn’t Ryuji, go find something else to do. We need some time to talk.”

Nobody questions it except for Futaba. “Um, do you want me to take—”

He shoves his hand in his pocket and throws his phone at her. Usually, the rose gold shade always makes him crack a smile, but he doesn’t even look at it this time. “Here.”

When she still doesn’t leave, Akira spares her a glance. “What is it?”

“Don’t...don’t be too harsh on him.”

“Don’t push it. I’m still upset that you didn’t say anything about this.”

Futaba’s head falls downwards as she walks away, Sophia in tow.

“So?” Ryuji crosses his arms. “Are we good?”

“No, we are not good, Ryuji. You argued with me over something stupid, spat in my face and deliberately went against with what I knew would be better for all of us, and worse than all of that, you knew that your defense is down by an insane amount.”

“Who cares if it’s down! Get the fuck over it, we already won.”

Akira's jaw goes slack. “Who are you? Why are you acting like this? What’s gotten into your head that you’re trying to pretend that I don’t care about your health and your safety?”

“Because you shouldn’t,” he insists. “You’re slowing the rest of us down by doing this whole hero schtick—if you just focus on what we need to do rather than something like my god damn endurance then things would go so much faster!”

“I don’t give a shit about efficiency, and do you have any idea what it even means for you to have a drastic change in your Persona? Or are you just looking for another stupid thing to argue about?”

He draws back, shame instinctively bubbling at the implication. “No, but it can’t be that damn important for us to be fighting like this.”

“Personas are the strength of the heart,” Akira roughly prods at his chest. “Whatever you’re feeling, whatever you believe in, your Persona would reflect that.”

“Okay? So what?”

A shift overcomes his expression, and Akira closes his eyes. When he speaks, it’s like he’s an ethereal being rather than a boy his age. “You seek power, correct? Since your name has been disgraced already, why not hoist the flag and wreak havoc?”

“The ‘other you’ who exists within desires it thus,” Ryuji finishes, frowning. “Why do you have that memorized?”

“Because I’ve memorized everyone’s awakenings, and because I think that’s the reason why you can’t take a hit anymore but you can throw a punch the way you can,” Akira shoots back. “You awakened your Persona to ‘wreak havoc’ on the people who piss you off, right?”

“Yeah.” His patience is waning thin. “What’s your point?”

“What if that feeling—rage against corrupt adults, your need to wreak havoc on them—what if that gets flipped around and you direct that on yourself?”

“What?” Ryuji shakes his head. “Is that even possible?”

“I can almost guarantee it, because your stats are shuffling like crazy. Your endurance is down, yeah, but do you know what skyrocketed in its place? What nearly tripled?”

“My strength?”

“Exactly. Look, I don’t know what happened, but something has shifted in your heart enough to make you believe that it’s more important to be strong than to keep yourself alive.”

Akira shoves his glasses higher on his nose, and Ryuji swallows when he sees his hand shake. “Tell me. Please. I won’t get mad, or disappointed, or whatever you think I’ll feel if you tell me. I just want you to be honest with me. I want us to work this out.”

It’s the way he says it, like it’s really that simple. Like the two of them can take on any problem together, no matter how big it is, because it’s them. They’re two pieces of a puzzle—they can only ever see the bigger picture when they both click into place. It would be easy, because Akira makes it easy.

A droplet of rain lands hard on his shoulder. He opens his mouth.

“Just because I’m not telling you something, doesn’t it mean gives you the right to hound the fuck out of me until I cave.”

Akira recoils like he’s been slapped in the face. “I just want to understand.”

“And I just want you to leave me alone, okay?” He wipes away the rain from his face only for it to be replaced almost immediately. “You don’t—you just don’t fucking get it, Kurusu. You have no idea what it’s like being a piece of shit, you have no idea what it’s like being a moron, with everyone hating you—”

What? He doesn’t mean that. Of course Akira gets it. That’s how they got to know each other in the first place.

“You don’t know what it’s like to hear so much shit about you wherever you go—”

That’s not true, either. Why is he saying this?

“To have no one even take a look at you, to be a ghost, to not even exist anymore—”

Are you kidding? That’s all Akira lives through in his hometown.

Ryuji levels a gaze at him, chest burning. “You don’t know what it’s like being nothing,” he finishes.

Akira stands there, staring at him, refusing to wipe the rain away from his face. His mouth opens, before closing again, and shakes his head. His movements are jerky and stilted.

When Akira looks up, his eyes are empty. “You don’t know a single thing about me.”

He turns around and walks away without another word, leaving Ryuji to stand alone, drenched in the rain and feeling like gasoline is eating through his chest, and all he can do is burn.

Osaka has bright lights and has the scent of mouth-watering in its every nook and cranny, but the only thing Ryuji can process right now is the squelch of his socks with every step he takes.

He’s only vaguely aware that he’s moving, traversing through Dotonbori in a hazed state. It’s like his consciousness left his body, trapped and distant, the burning in his chest turned into something smoldering, filling his entire being with suffocating smoke.

Ryuji’s spent who knows how long staggering through the streets, unfamiliar sights with unfamiliar people, and none of it has the same excitement that normally comes with them visiting a new place. The rain hasn’t let up, and his t-shirt has long since been soaked through. His body is still crazy sore, with his ankles begging for rest, but the idea of stopping makes him nauseous.

A large body hits his shoulder, and it nearly knocks him sideways. “Watch where you’re going, dumbass.”

“S-sorry,” he manages, but the stranger is already gone by the time he finishes.

Ryuji scrubs his eyes and looks up, surprised that he isn’t horrifically lost. He’s at one of the dual bridges in Dotonbori, a place that he recognizes because he and Ann stuffed their faces with so much takoyaki they could barely breathe afterwards.

His body sags against the bridge’s concrete railing, exhaustion making itself known, forearms pressed in an odd angle that he knows is going to leave weird patterns etched into his skin. In his pocket, his phone buzzes angrily, but he ignores it.

He scrubs his eyes again, harder. He hasn’t cried, which sucks. In fact, he hasn’t even felt the familiar panic build up in him, and he didn’t even know it was possible to miss that feeling. The feeling of something other than the gaping hole inside of him, only getting bigger.

For the first time in his life, he wishes he was angry, just so he can stop feeling this never-ending plane of nothing.

That’s a lie, actually—there’s some anger, too. A lot of it. At himself.

His phone buzzes again, and Ryuji can’t even muster a meager response. I’m fine, don’t worry, is what he’s supposed to say.

Bullshit. All he can ever do is say bullshit, over and over again.

Pressing his forehead against the edge of the concrete, he grits his teeth, staring down at his hands, miserable and desperate for something to take away this gnawing feeling inside of him, eating its way through his gut like an insatiable parasite. He tries focusing on the waves lapping against the stone below him, on the pitter-patter of the rain that’s coating his skin, on the chatter from the people behind him, but he can’t because all he can see behind his eyelids is the hurt in Akira’s face and the crack in his voice when he spoke and it’s Ryuji’s fault because he fucking sucks and he’s incapable of keeping anything good in his life and he’s trying to cry but it’s not coming, why isn’t he crying, please let him get some fucking relief, why can’t he cry—

A shadow casts over him, and he’s about to move out of the way when shoes enter his periphery. Standard sneakers except for colorful beads tied into the shoelaces.

“Yo,” Futaba greets, holding an umbrella over him.

Ryuj tries for a laugh, but it comes out hollow and pathetic. “You track my phone?”

“No.” There’s a pause. “Akira mentioned that you have a thing for bridges.”

His heart goes utterly still, before beating into overdrive. “Leave me alone,” he finds himself saying. “Just fucking get out of here, Futaba.”

“No.”

“No?” It’s sick how fiercely glad he is to be able to grasp onto anger like a lifeline. “I don’t want to be around anyone, don’t you get it? Leave me alone, Jesus, I thought you were supposed to be the smart one in the group.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“And why not?”

“Because you didn’t leave me, even when I really, really wanted you to.” The gaze behind her eyes is unreadable. “You dragged me out of my tomb, screaming and kicking, but you didn’t let go.”

His lungs tightened up. “I don’t want to be around anyone right now,” he says weakly.

“Then I’m not here.” Futaba readjusts her grip on the umbrella, careful that he was still covered. She trains her eyes on a random point in the distance, away from him. “No one’s here. I’m just another stranger, and you’re just some guy who’s talking to the rain.”

They stand there for a while, unspeaking. Each passing second lets the aggravation seep out of him, bit by bit.

“Can…” he tries eventually. Maybe he can let it out, just a little bit. Enough to stop the boiling froth from spilling over the pot, maybe the water would stop rising. “Can I ask you a question?”

When she doesn’t answer, he looks down into the black water.

“What’s it like hating yourself?” he asks. “Like, really, really hating yourself. All you want to do is hide, in your room or away from everyone else. You don’t want to die, you don’t want to disappear, either. You just want to...stop. To the point where you don’t even know what you want anymore—do you want to just keep hiding? Do you want to tell everyone, to finally let someone know? To let the one person who fucking matters know what’s happening to you?”

A boat passes underneath them, and he can see a couple drinking together, laughing. “Isn’t it so embarrassing? You failed so fucking much, and you’re only making it worse by hiding it from everyone. You hid it so much, you were so unwilling to let them know, that you actually ran the damn risk of them leaving.”

The last of Ryuji’s resolve, weak as it was already, crumbles. Something inside Ryuji cracks, and his eyes are wide, so wide they might roll out of their sockets. “I couldn’t tell him, Futaba,” he rasps out. “I couldn’t—what if he leaves me? What if I lose the only damn thing that made my life something worth getting out of my room for? What’s going to happen when he realizes I’m nothing more than the kid with the fucked up leg who failed high school?”

Futaba continues to listen in silence, unable to hold back the streams of hot tears running down her cheeks.

“He loves me,” he says this with an unshakeable force, an unforeseen barrier unwilling to be broken down by anything. “I know that for a fact. But—” he sucks in a breath, and before he can stop himself, he leans his body over the bridge.

“I’m so fucking selfish!” he yells. “I can’t! I can’t tell him! I can’t face another failure, I can’t do it, it’s going to kill me, I swear to god. I failed myself, I failed all of you,” he wildly gestures at her. “I failed my mom, but I can’t fail him. Not him, anyone but him.”

“Sir Sakamoto Ryuji.”

He turns his head to her with a crumpled expression, and she wipes her face with her sleeve before grabbing his hand, pulling him away from the bridge. Ryuji is too surprised to resist. ”W-what?”

She doesn’t turn back, and despite her hoarse voice, her words don’t shake. “I will not let you continue your great sin of wrath unto yourself. You cannot,” she tugs harder, and he stumbles forward. “You cannot keep yourself in this, this darkness of hatred and anger, and thus I, Sakura Futaba, a member of the Phantom Thieves, have decided to intervene.”

“Was—” It took a lot of effort, but he composed himself enough to keep up with her short legs. “Was that a calling card?”

“You’re damn right it is, with or without the fancy paper.” Futaba glances back, and her eyes are shining and determined. “I wasn’t ready at all when you guys showed up in my room to take my heart, but good thing you did, because that was exactly what I needed. So here I am dragging you out, kicking and all. You’re going to tell Akira—”

“I can’t,” he pleads, weakly crossing the street when she keeps pulling. “Dude, I just told you why I absolutely cannot.”

“You’re going to, and that’s final.”

“No!”

And to his absolute shock, she stops in the middle of the road, expression defiant. Cars honk and flip them off, but it does nothing to deter her.

“Get out of the way!” he screams, roughly pulling at her, but Futaba doesn’t budge. “Get off the road!”

“Welcome to my ultimatum: I’m not moving until you go to him!” she points directly at him, ignoring the way headlights flash over her and puddles splash on her shorts. “You say he loves you? Cool, now prove to him that you love him.”

Ryuji rolls up his sleeves. “I’m going to carry you off of the street, you gremlin.”

“Try me, because I’m going to scream so loud,” she says seriously, and he knows she is.

“You’re insane!” he yells back, because she is.

“And you’re a moron, and it’s not because you couldn’t do academic whatnot!” Her glare is hot steel and he’s nothing more than a warm stick of butter. “He’s known you since day one, has seen you at bedrock level, and he’s still following you around like you’re some kind of queen bee and he’s the hive. You’re going to talk to him, or I swear on my mom’s grave that I’m going to jump in front of a big truck and you’re gonna have to be the one to explain to everyone why I died.”

Screw it. He rushes forward, picks her up and, because she’s never been one to back down in anything, she screams from the top of her lungs until he eventually sets her down on the other side of the road.

“Hey!” she stomps her foot. “That’s cheating!”

“Are you out of your damn mind?”

“No more than you, you clown!” she yells. “Why don’t you want to tell him?!”

“I already told you why!”

“Then what if he felt the same? What if this happened to him, and he kept it from you this entire time?”

The thought is enough to make him feel uneasy. “He doesn’t feel the same.”

“But what if he did?” Futaba insists.

“Then of course I’d want to know,” he answers before he can stop himself, and quickly adds, “But he doesn’t.”

“If he was, though, then you—” she prods his chest. “Are hurting him. You’re hurting him, and I thought you loved him, and I thought you didn’t want to disappoint him. You’re a gigantic hypocrite, and screw being a bad boyfriend,” she spits the word as if eager to rid it off her tongue. “You’re being a really freaking bad best friend.”

They stare each other down, with Futaba breathing hard and him, completely unseeing.

“You’re right.”

“I’m always right,” she says immediately. “But elaborate.”

“I’m being a really, really bad best friend.” His fingers make their way to the root of his hair and starts pulling. “I made this entire thing about me, and my problems.”

“To be fair, they were pretty big problems.”

“Yeah but...holy shit, I completely—I completely forgot that this trip is about Akira and to make sure that he’s smiling, and happy, and stress-free and—I fucked all of that to hell.”

“You did,” she agrees, relentless. “Totally screwed the pooch, but hey, you know what? There’s a big plus sign to all of this:” Futaba throws up jazz hands weakly. “You can still fix this!”

“I can still fix this…” he repeats, in a daze, and he slaps his face with both hands. “I can still fix this, dammit! This isn’t going to be another failure; I’m going to take this,” he wildy gesticulates around himself. “And shred it down so Akira doesn’t have to worry anymore. I’ll talk to him, he’ll understand, and we’re going to have a fan-fucking-tastic rest of the summer vacation, even if my life is horrible and falling apart.”

She nods enthusiastically. “But we can all fix it together once we get back home. One step at a time. First,” she levels him with a look. “You’re going to talk to Akira.”

“I have to. He’s had my back since day one, and I promise I’d do anything for him.” Even if it means showing himself, every ugly part of himself, to the most amazing person that’s ever walked on planet earth. The panic twitches inside of him, coming alive again, but he doesn’t push it away. He lets that feeling wash over him, that adrenaline, and he starts jumping on his feet. “I’m going to talk to Akira,” he announces, looking around to see any place that Akira’s eye might catch. “I need to find him, ASAP.”

“Say no more.” She pulls up her phone. “This won’t take more than two minutes.”

Glancing around wildly, something catches his attention, and he grins. “No need. I know exactly where he is.”

“You do?” A hard slap lands on his back, pushing him forward with a yelp. “Then go! Run to him! Get out of your tomb, Ryuji! I’ll see you on the other side!”

He takes a few steps forward, before turning around and quickly taking Futaba in a hug. “Love you, shorty,” he says seriously.

“I love you too.” She hugs him back tightly before letting go. “Get out of here before you find a new insecurity to change your mind.”

Ryuji opts to ignore that last bit and sets off, sneakers slapping the wet concrete as he runs, Tenboto Tower already in his sights.

“Akira!”

Everyone jumps as he slams the glass entrance open, loud and unyielding as he runs past tourists, wildly taking in each of their faces and pausing at none of them. He sucks at everything—at school, at being a good friend, at basic communication. But this? Facing public humiliation in front of strangers?

“Akira!”

He can do this any day of the week.

Nervous employees start to approach him and Ryuji books it before they can get close. Not on the ground floor, but he knew that before he even came in here. Elevator, he thinks, skidding to a halt to see that it’s already six floors up. It would take too long.

Letting out a sharp breath, he lets his feet take him to the stairwell, apathetic to the fact that he’s about to sprint up eighty-eight meters.

He’s an idiot. A moron. World’s biggest buffoon. That doesn’t surprise anyone, least of all him.

The soles of his sneakers squeak as it slaps against concrete stairs, using the railing to propel him up faster.

And he hates it. He fucking hates being the dumb one so much that it hurts.

A couple that was making out screams when he barely dodges them, and he doesn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed.

He wants nothing more than to bury that part of him. Shamefully, completely. Like a corpse, or some ancient artifact. Gone for the rest of time.

Sweat streams down his back and it’s gross and he doesn’t care, not one damn bit.

But if burying it means destroying what he built with Akira? If scrambling to hide actually makes things worse when the only thing he wanted was to preserve what the two of them have?

His throat is drying up and he can feel his thighs about to split in half, but he keeps going, keeps running.

Then screw it—the whole world is about to know what a big failure he is.

Ryuji bursts through the door to the top deck, gasping for breath and dozens of heads turn to him. Gulping down as much air as his lungs can take in, “Akira!?” he booms, and he knows he’s being an asshole but he doesn’t care right now.

Nothing happens. He grits his teeth and starts running again, soaked shoes ruining plush carpet as he looks for a familiar patch of messy hair. Ryuji evades tourists left and right, around gift shop stalls and hundred yen telescopes, ignoring the picturesque view from the huge glass windows. Just like he thought—from up here, it looks eerily like you were overlooking the entire city of Tokyo if you were desperate for any sense of familiarity.

And that’s exactly what Akira had needed at the time.

Come on, come on. He’s about to hit a full circle around the observation deck and he still hasn’t spotted him. I know you’re here. There’s no way that you’d be anywhere else in the city.

Ryuji takes in another breath, ready to yell out his name for the upteenth time, when he sees an open balcony, nearly empty except for a boy leaned over the parapet, eerily still and barely underneath the glass covering above him.

Despite his earlier fervor, Ryuji slows down to a walking pace, chest heaving and feeling like his heart is going to burst.

It’ll be okay. It’s him.

He takes his place beside him, mimicking his pose, leaning over the cool metal railings. Akira doesn’t even look up, which is what he deserves, really. The wind is light, and the city sparkles below them.

No games. No bullshit. Just him and his best friend.

“I failed second-year,” he says. “And also I think I’m at a real, real low point in my life.”

Akira’s face flits in mild surprise, but Ryuji doesn’t stop, doesn’t want to give himself an out.

He starts from the very beginning—from getting called into his homeroom, to Ushimaru giving him a look that said he expected this because that’s ‘just the type of student he is’, to hiding it from his mom, from Ann, from him. He tells him how being alone is tiring, but being with people is exhausting.

And the tears. The minute he started talking, the tears came and kept coming no matter how many times he wiped it away. At first he thought it was from humiliation, at the guilt from keeping it from Akira. But after a while, he realizes that keeping this huge, weighty, life-altering secret from Akira was hurting him, too. It’s like the entire sky got lifted off of him, and he can finally breathe again. For the first time, he feels relieved.

Akira stands there, silent the entire time, not looking at him but he knows he’s soaking in every word that he’s saying.

Ryuji stands up straight and faces him. His voice is barely above a whisper, used up and crackled like dried out stone. “Akira, I’m so, so sorry. I said horrible shit and I kept you in the dark for so long, and-and I forced everyone not to say anything because of my own issues, and I could’ve—” he flinches when he remembers feeling his life deplete out of him from a single hit. “I could’ve died, dude. And I kept it from you over something so petty like being bad at algebra. I know I shouldn’t have kept it from you. I know that now, and hindsight is a bit of a bastard.” He looks down, sees people from below, small as ants. “There’s no good excuse, I get that. It’s just...I was fucking terrified, dude. Of whatever you see in me fading away once you see me for what I actually am.”

Ruffling his own hair, he lets out a long breath. “Alright. I’m done. It’s your turn, if you want it.”

“Is that really how you feel?” Akira asks, emotionless.

“With my entire body.”

His feelings are twisted together between shock that he actually did it, and earth-shattering fear that something bad might happen. No, Akira would never in a million years openly mock him, but he can easily imagine a small, faint smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. An it’s okay. I get it. A shallow hug and a kiss on the cheek. An obligatory comfort that Akira feels he has to give but Ryuji never wanted.

But what he didn’t expect was for Akira to suddenly start laughing.

Ryuji stares in shock as his shoulders, always straight back, hunches in on itself, shaking uncontrollably, hands instinctively flitting to his mouth but unable to hold in the snort that escapes through his lips.

“Uh,” he asks, confused. “What?”

“I—” Akira tries, but doubles over, gripping the metal railing. “Give me a second, sorry—”

They stand there for a few long minutes, Ryuji bewildered and Akira laughing harder than he’s ever seen him. Whenever he looks like he’s about to finish, Akira gives him a look, and starts laughing uncontrollably again.

Eventually, he sobers up enough to resume his earlier position. “Ryuji,” the smile is still stuck on his lips. “I love you.”

“...Okay?” he replies, still lost.

“And I’ve been in therapy since April.”

The entire world halts to a grinding, screeching halt.

“You’re—” Ryuji fumbles. “You’ve been in what?”

“Therapy.”

“Why?!” When Akira raises an eyebrow at him, he backtracks a little. “Okay, I didn’t mean to say it like that. It’s just...surprising.”

He can’t even imagine what kind of metaphor he’d have to use to begin explaining the complexities of a Persona and Palaces. “Is it tough trying to explain all of this?”

“It’s not about the Metaverse or anything,” he says, and, with the slight mirth still stuck on his features, “It’s because I’ve been depressed for a few months now.”

About a trillion questions want to fly out of his mouth right now, but he settles on one for now. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Akira looks up, staring at the few specks of stars that still poke out despite the light pollution of any big city in Japan. “I just think,” he starts. “That I’m really, really lonely.”

Before Ryuji can say anything, he cuts him off with a look. “Please don’t blame yourself.”

“I won’t.”

“Good,” he says, relaxing. “Because it’s not your fault, or anyone else’s. I’ve just…It’s been hard, going back to that life after living such a good one in Tokyo. When I finally came back home, it’s like I was stuck in a time loop. Every day that I stay there,” he stares down at his hands. “Is another day that everyone’s moving on without me.”

Ryuji nearly bites his tongue off in an effort to hold himself back. Move on? Without Akira? Not a snowflake’s chance in hell.

“It didn’t help that no one would even look me in the eye there,” he continues. “It got to the point where the days just blended together, the same cycle of nothing, the same day of being alone, over and over again. Worrying about being forgotten, being trapped and stuck.” Akira’s pale cheeks turn red. “Eventually, my grades started dropping,” he admits. “My parents noticed, because of course they did, and…”

Akira curls his fingers around the bar. “They threatened that they wouldn’t let me go if it stayed down.”

“Son of a bitch,” he hisses, unable to help himself. “What the hell, man?”

“I know,” he agrees. “Bad move on their part, considering that it got even worse after they said that. It’s...it’s actually why I’m getting tutoring now. Not necessarily for Tokyo U, but I really do plan on going to a Tokyo-based university. Because if I don’t…” he trails off.

“I am the only person in the world who isn’t allowed to say this, but,” Ryuji shakes his head. “Why didn’t you say anything, Akira? I could’ve visited you more, or had more phone calls, or, I don’t know. Something to help.” To help you the way you helped me.

“Good question,” he muses, slightly amused. “Alright. Imagine this. You’re a new kid in town with a criminal record. Everyone hates you, more than they usually do, and you were starting to accept that your life is just going to be like this. But suddenly, a guy comes barreling into your life.” Akira’s expression softens. “He’s loud, tough, and extremely cute, and next thing you know, he became your best friend. You don’t know what he sees in you, you don’t know what you did to make him approach you in the first place, but the only thing you know for sure—”

“Is that you’re never letting him go,” Ryuji finishes for him. “Even if it means hiding yourself away, yeah?”

Ryuji’s gazing down at the city beneath them, unseeing. He can’t react the way he wants to, but what the fuck.

Akira is the best person he’s ever met and he’s pretty sure at least twenty other people scattered around the streets of Tokyo would agree with him on that. Yet he hid such a massive secret from Ryuji because he thought that Ryuji would leave him? That’s beyond ridiculous. That’s messed up, that’s—

Ryuji looks up to see that Akira’s already looking back at him, a knowing look in his eyes.

“Yup,” Akira tries to pull it off like he was scratching his cheek, but the shine of the tear makes it obvious. “You got me.”

Finally, Ryuji cracks.

“I’m—” he chokes, wracked with grief. “I’m so fucking sorry. I am so, so sorry, you were going through so much and I didn’t even—”

Akira takes a step back, shocked. “Why are you the one apologizing? I’m the one who was too busy wallowing to notice that you had changed enough that your Persona—”

“Because you’re depressed, and I should’ve been there to help you!”

“And I said that it was never your fault!”

“That doesn’t matter, I should’ve helped you go through that, wait outside the clinic with you, I don’t know!”

“And I made you think that I would have left you if you failed high school, which is insane—!”

“Kurusu, I lied to you. I lied to your face, I said so much shit, I jeopardized the entire team all because I didn’t want to lose you—”

“Don’t,” he pleads. “I know why you did it, but me? I don’t have an excuse. I’m your leader—”

“I’m your partner—”

“I’m your best friend—”

“And I didn’t notice!” they both finish in unison, distraught and breaths heaving, hearts pounding in time with each other, always together.

And then they both laugh; it’s teary, wet, and they probably look insane to any tourist ten feet from them, but they’re cracking up because it’s hilarious. It’s absolutely hysterical that either of them ever believed that they would leave the other over something so stupid as their own perception of themselves.

Ryuji sobers up first, grin so wide that it’s hurting his cheeks. “Can I apologize one last time?”

“No,” he says, voice tender. “I’ve heard enough sorrys to last a lifetime.”

“Come on! Just one more!”

“Just one more,” he relents.

He throws his arm around Akira, squeezing him tight against his side. “I’m sorry that I’m apparently the most good-looking guy you’ve ever seen that you instantly fell in love with me.”

“Dammit,” Akira tries shoving him off weakly. “I knew you were gonna use that against me.��

“Damn right.” He kisses his forehead, gentle despite the rough grip.

“Can I apologize too?”

“Copycat. You can apologize once.”

“Okay.” Hugging Ryuji’s torso, they’re close enough that neither can feel the chill of the wind. “I’m sorry this happened to us,” he says seriously.

Pulling back, Ryuji frowns. “Dude!”

“I know, I know, what a downer. But it’s true.”

“It’s true,” he agrees. “But we can work on this. Together, this time. Like a couple of smart, capable people.”

“That sounds fantastic,” Akira murmurs before leaning forward and catching his lips. He tastes like rainwater and heat. He can feel his own lips twitch into a smile, and the vibration of Akira’s chuckle against his throat. It’s familiar, memorized, but he still makes sure to relearn it every time.

They kiss so deep that the hole inside Ryuji’s chest is full enough to burst.

“Kaboom!” Futaba had said.

The booming sound of a firework rings from up top, illuminating their faces in bright colors in the night. It reflects shades of red, yellow, blue and pink all over the surface of the water like paint buckets that got toppled over in a kindergarten classroom.

Ryuji’s chin is tilted up, watching them explode and take over his entire view of the sky. It’s almost blinding, but he can’t peel his eyes away from them even when he can feel them drying up.

It’s the last day of summer—his worst nightmare.

A purple one sparkles, the sound of the explosion delayed by half a second. He leans his head against Akira’s shoulder, lip quirking up when he feels weight pressing against the crown of his skull.

It’s the last day of summer, but he can’t feel anything but the warmth at his side, fingers intertwined with his, the ringing in his ears. Everything feels more real than they had in the last few months, the haze shifting away, the fog thinning out.

His heart beats strong in his chest. A hand squeezes his tightly.

Kaboom.

The sweat on the back of Ryuji’s neck is thick as he climbs the stairs into the attic of Leblanc, the heat just as intense as it was this time last year.

Stray beams of light poured in from the open window of what has turned into a study cave for any of the thieves to use—cram books of trigonometry to art theory lined the shelves, the walls lined with study good luck charms that they had hoarded from any shrines that they had visited, and day-old tea cups and coffee mugs littered the desks.

Amidst all of that sat Akira, elbows propped up on the table, expression serious. “Happy last day of school,” he says, voice monotone, staring at the thick, impressive envelope in front of him.

“‘Happy’ my ass,” Ryuji flops down on the seat next to him, wood creaking under the sudden weight, nodding at the parchment. “Is that it?”

“If it isn’t, it’s going to be one insane train ride back home to get it.”

“I don’t know how you did it, man. I would’ve torn that thing open the minute I got it.”

Akira gives him an alarmed look. “You didn’t—”

He puts his hands up in surrender, holding a much thinner, yet somehow just as weighty sealed envelope between his fingers before throwing it down with the other. “I didn’t.”

“Good.” Akira doesn’t quite relax, but he lets out a breath. “So.”

“So,” he repeats, a little wobbly. “Moment of truth, huh? Either you got into school…”

“And you passed second-year.”

“Or we don’t.”

The silence that follows is heavy, contemplative, coating the air with something thick and hard to swallow.

Ryuji slams his hand on the table, gut twisting and knotting tightly. “Let’s fucking do this.”

They both reach forward to their corresponding envelopes, hands shaking but neither comment on it. Akira opens his first, and Ryuji very nearly bites it open just to get it over with. He’s suddenly glad that he’s sitting for this. His knees would’ve given out for sure.

Eventually, he finally gets it out of the envelope. His vision blurs as he starts scanning through the letter, eyes flitting all over the page looking for a few choice words, and his breathing stops cold.

He raises his head in time with Akira, and their eyes are wide. A wind chime clinks somewhere behind them.

“I got in,” Akira whispers.

“I passed,” Ryuji whispers back.

They stare at each other for a moment, before they explode.

Immediately, Ryuji jumps out of his chair and lifts Akira clean off his seat. “You got in!” he cries, and he’s not even embarrassed at the horrendous crack in his voice. “You bastard, I knew you could do it!”

“You passed,” Akira throws his arms around his neck and clings, so tight he can barely breathe. “I knew it, I could feel it, I knew you had it!”

Ryuji grasps the back of his hair, still spinning. “I’m so happy for you, I’m so happy for you,” he chants, his entire body feeling weak with relief and unencumbered joy but he knows he’d never drop him. “You fucking did it.”

“And you fucking did it!” He starts planting kisses on his head, his cheek, his shoulder, wherever he can reach. “You worked so hard, and you—” another kiss, this time right on his eyelid. “You did it, and I am so, so, so proud of you.”

With whatever last strength Ryuji has, he spins double-time, yelling at the top of his lungs: “Tokyo University, baby!”

“Third-year!” Akira tries, voice barely above his normal volume. “Third-year!”

He sets him down, and the grin on his face is wider than it’s ever been. Ryuji feels like he can eat the entirety of Yongen in one try. “You are—” he holds Akira’s face between both of his hands, face inches from his. “The smartest person on the entire fucking planet.”

“And you—” his eyes are bright, so bright. “Need to call your mom.”

“Shoot!” Ryuji slaps his forehead. “Totally slipped by me. Uh, I’ll—”

“Bathroom works, and Soijro locked up the cafe for us.”

“Boss is the best. I’ll be back,” he turns, headed for the stairs.

“Wait.”

Ryuji looks back only for a hand to hold his nape, pulling him forward. Akira kisses him, still smiling. When they pull away, he says, in a crystal clear voice, “I love you, I love you, and I’m proud of you.”

He could barely reply past the lump in his throat, wanting nothing more than to bury himself in that sentence. “I love you,” he manages. “Don’t go anywhere, okay? I want to keep talking to you.”

“Of course,” Akira says, and Ryuji slips out of his grasp before he can do something stupid, like cry. Again.

Cracking the door open to the tiny powder room of Leblanc, he leans against the wall and catches his expression in the mirror—grinning and flushed with pleasure. It’s a good look.

He hits the speed dial on his phone, and his mom picks up almost immediately. “Did you get the letter?” she rushes out. “Whatever happens, you’re still the best son I could ever ask for, you hear me?”

“Ma,” the reflection’s grin grows impossibly wider. “I passed.”

The screaming from the receiver is loud enough that he had to pull it away from himself, wincing but laughing at her reaction. “I knew it!” her voice sounds years younger. “I knew you could do it!”

The wall is cool behind him, and he shoves his hand in his pocket, embarrassed. “Thanks, ma.”

“Of course, Ryu! Are you happy?”

“Am I happy?” he blinks. “Well, yeah, of course.”

“That’s all I ever wanted,” a noise that sounds suspiciously like a sniffle sounds through. “You could’ve stopped going to school entirely and as long as it made you happy, I’d go along with it.”

Air catches in his throat, awe-struck. He knew how she felt, but having her tell him at face value is something else entirely.

Ryuji’s about to answer when a cascade of voices and footsteps suddenly flow into the cafe, just outside the powder room.

“Akira,” Makoto says gently, audible through thin walls. “Did…?”

He doesn’t catch a reply, but screams and cheers fill up the cafe, dust falling from the ceiling as people start jumping up and down.

“I can hear your friends celebrating from here,” his mom chuckles. “I’ll let you go. Let’s get dinner when you get home, okay?”

“That sounds great,” he says, coughing, brushing the flecks of dried wood off his shoulder. “I’ll see you when I get home.”

He hangs up, sighing happily. After mentally preparing himself, he throws the door open, doorknob slamming against the wall that he prays didn’t leave a dent.

“Is that him?” Haru’s voice flows from above.

“That’s him,” Akira confirms.

Ryuji takes the steps two at a time, welcomed by the sight of everyone clinging to Akira with overjoyed expressions, and they quiet down when they see him.

Ann takes a step forward, gently letting go of Akira’s shoulder. “So?”

He takes a deep breath, makes a big show of kicking the floor boards, before looking up.

“Yeah, I did it.”

An eruption of pure noise goes straight into his eardrums as he’s tackled by arms and bodies, knocking him to the ground. Everyone’s yelling, some are crying, and he can understand exactly zero of what they’re saying but he hugs back as best he can. Through the cracks of shoulders and hair and necks, he can see Akira watching them all in amusement.

With no small amount of struggling, Ryuji wriggles a hand free and extends it to him. Akira doesn’t hesitate to take it, but yelps as he proceeds to get tugged right into the middle of the pile, crashing into three other people and loving every second of it.

Delusion is a real funny thing in hindsight. How could he have ever thought that he had nothing to be proud of? That his list of accomplishments added up to exactly nothing?

Yusuke is reciting victory speeches from wars won long ago while Makoto is listing off scholarships he can apply for in his third-year. Futaba is repeatedly hitting his shoulder, shrieking in his ear while Haru is quietly telling him how proud she is of him. Ann’s already pulling Shiho on speakerphone, and Akira has a look in his eye, a fondness that tells Ryuji that there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

The room is full, and the sun is still streaming through, warm and inviting. He wishes that Ryuji from a year ago could see this, see his friends that are still by his side, that will always be by his side, and rest easy.

[vannyvancan]

"mr assassin" Roommate!Shinsou Hitoshi X F!Reader Part 2

Part 2 of your Roommate/Assassin!Shinsou is here! First of all I wanna thank y'all for liking the first part so much! In this part we go deeper in darker theme of it, so just a fair warning.

my masterlist. Hope you have a great day and happy reading!

Tw for : Assassin!Shinsou theme, female reader,  gun usage, slight insecurity, NSFW for the most part on the later chapters, drug usage, corrupt government talk, harrasment

Day five of living with your new roommate. He hadn't shown much of an interest in harming you...

That was swell.

You huffed out a breath of relaxation when the realization hit, but not also that, things weren't as bad as you expected! The thought you'd get a nasty roommate who would leave much more bigger mess than you was on the mind... but he seems to be the one who cleans as well? A welcome surprise indeed.

Shinsou was an enigma, waking up early at five am, neatly sorting his clothing and coming back late at 11 pm, he didn't seem restless, which could only mean he probably has a second accommodation where he rests and eats as well. It also explains why he only had one bag with him which you had decency and never saw what was inside. Besides...

He had given you a glare yesterday when you stared at it for long with those white pupils of his.

Even though he was soft spoken, he always managed to find a way to poke fun at you before he left. Granted, you were quiet surprised when he made you a french toast every morning! He barely knows you, but you were grateful to have found a roommate that in one way or another showed his gratitude. Afterwards, you felt obligation to one up him and return the favour. Now dragging your dear friend out, you giggled at the phone text from Uraraka as she immediately started spewing jokes about your potential 'future' with him.

„What an idiot.“ You grinned to yourself, walking down the street to the meeting place, you were about to go shopping with her, you still had to supply yourself with comfortable winter clothing.

„Y/N!“ Uraraka's voice reached your ears.

„Hey! Long time no see!“

„Very long time indeed!“

Uraraka rushed her step to give you the biggest hug there was. She was the sweetest friend and was always there for you no matter the circumstances. Now both of you dragging yourselves in the clothing store

„You just got off from work right? How was it?“ She asked, looking at time, it was now 5 pm.

„Tiring, its even worse because they fired colleagues before summer so now all of us have extra hour of work.“

„Oh no. But at least you will be rewarded more no? More hours equal more pay.“

„Nope, it's the same job in the end, they just extended work time.“ Frowning at the work contract on the mind, it was a very high chance it will drastically change soon as well.

„It's very... bad.“ You nervously laughed as you walked together.

„One time they fired someone from storage, only to replace them with boss's relative. By law its forbidden, but they made up a name for the new position that does the same job in storage. So it seems valid, but its not.“

„Ah... it happened here as well, but uhm.“ Uraraka started

„Hmm?“

„There's been some disappearances from our parent company, we are having a bit of a rescheduling on our own as well.“ Uraraka nervously chuckled and scratched the back of her head, it was quiet obvious there's been some action going on on her end as well.

„But enough about that, how's Shinsou~?“ She teasingly leaned in and poked her pink cheek.

Your mind shifted to the now roommate, the intimidating figure had you stuttering for a second. Obviously, Uraraka shouldn't of hung out with Mina so often back in college days, because it was so obvious she wanted to pull out some flustering on your end as well. Her curiosity especially hit the peak since she heard your voice hit higher notes when talking about him.

„I-I.. U-um. Okay, fuck! I can't!“ Both of the palms now covered your face to hide the embarrassment.

„Ahah! Is he that hot? You didn't react like that for so long!“

„Shut up!“ You huff out „It's enough that he made a toast for me yesterday, now I don't know how to return the favor. I want to get close to him, but he's unapproachable.“

The brunette put a finger on her lower lip in deep thought.

„Maybe if he's so busy, you can make him little lunches in a box, since he's so busy.“

„Uraraka, that's so childish.“

„It's not! You have to show him your soft side! Poke around, maybe he likes it.“

„My soft side?“

Grimacing as she advised, you were afraid of getting your feelings hurt. Now hesitantly picking up shirts and pants from the shopping stand, you managed to pick decent clothing for the upcoming winter before the prices skyrocket, it was expensive already but you managed to find something cheap. Your eyes trailed to find a plain white scarf, it was really nice quality, and rather cheap, but the sudden thoughts redirected to Shinsou as fingers tried out the material.

Maybe its not a bad idea to try and open up, you'll try but there should be equal effort on his end as well. Now snatching the scarf from the stand, you both bought your things and left the store, suddenly being nudged on the shoulder by the pink cheeked individual, you let out a relieved laughter while walking home for today.

...

„No, no! Please, Spare me!“

„I'm afraid job's a job.“

„No, please! My wife-!“

-SNAP-

„... Operation successful, returning to the main area. Prepare for body disposal.“

„Roger that Mindjack.“

On the broad daylight, Shinsou had eliminated yet another target for today, this time it was a business man whose life spiraled down in gambling addiction, the man who had hired him said he owned too much and knew too much to be kept alive.

Drugs and gambling went hand in hand, it was no different that the client probably had some shady stuff going on on their end as well. Shinsou had to keep his eye open on this one as well.

„Dispatched him quickly?“ Shoto came by side to Shinsou while adjusting dark gloves on.

„Yeah.“

„Good. Let me help you up.“

Several moments later, a truck came by to pick the dead body up, Kirishima's disguise as a trash driver made both of them cringe for a moment, but quickly brushed it off as Shoto and Shinsou threw it away. The cleanup crew should get rid of their traces now, all he has to do is get away as fast as possible from here. Shoto and Shinsou entered in the truck and drove in silence.

„You blocked the spot quiet nicely Shoto! Made a nice clearing for Shinsou to execute.“ Kirishima praised

„I merely blocked the parking lot. I don't see it being worth a mention.“

„Man, but missions like these always for newbies rely on stalking and timing. And this was perfect.“

„Nothing is perfect in this line of business.“ Shinsou ripped off his gloves and cracked his own neck to relieve tension. „Karma will hit you back hard if you don't know what you are doing.“

„Yeah yeah, it isn't very manly if you're in it just for cash, I mean... I'm rooting for justice and y'all, don't go thinking I am blind to what you guys are doing.“

Shoto and Shinsou fell silent. It was hard to swallow the truth, the car ride to the safe house wasn't long, soon Kirishima hit the brakes and came to a stop to the small abandoned storage house on the outskirts of the city. Shoto jumped out to take care of the body while Shinsou assisted with it, after they were done, Kirishima checked the contract for the job well done and handed the payment. A block of dollar bills now in their hands, the digital transfer of money would raise eyebrows in eyes of banks, so the money transfer was best if it was physical.

„Here you go boys! Boss says that the next contract is gonna be handed out tomorrow, you are free for the rest of the evening.“

„Tomorrow already?“ Shinsou asks.

„Yeah, what did you mean with that question?“

„I was thinking of looking into the client of the previous contract. Do some research and possibly eliminating him.“

Kirishima clicked with his tongue while Shoto huffed out and fiddled with the block of money in his hands.

„Sorry man. Solo contracts wont get you money, and gateways like us wont help you since we put too much at stake. You are on your own if you are gonna kill someone who is off the list.“ Kirishima explained

„Why would you even do it?“ Shoto asked, „Its not like the guy did you anything bad.“

Before Shinsou could answer Kirishima pat his back two times before turning on his heel to store his equipment away and head home himself for today.

„Mindjack has always been like that, even before you started working with. He sorta goes off on his own at times, seeking who needs killin' and who doesn't. That's why we hired you Shoto.“

„Can't blame me for doing what I think its right.“ Shinsou lowered his head, „All I need is time, That's why I was taken aback when a new contract was announced for tomorrow.“

„Alright alright, Mr. Assassin. You'll get your time. Someday. For now, this handsome manly man is going to go home for tonight! I'm going to get myself some hot bath.“

„See you Red. I'll be going too, Goodnight Mindjack.“

The departure was short, Shinsou took his bag and changed clothes before heading back, the bad smell could of easily rub off on him and he didn't want you to start speculating things. Even though he mostly ends his victim's lives in a way where no blood can be shed, it was a close call when she started eyeing the bag yesterday. He hated it, but he had already planned out way's to kill the roommate he was living with for any situation if she found out his true work.

'I don't need any of you to help me in my solo hunt.' He thought to himself, putting his black leather jacket on and helmet, he checked out his surroundings before revving up his bike and driving away.

The evening was busy as people were going back from work, it was 6 pm after all and he was stressing out on the fact that he will have to see his roommate. Maybe he could take a spin? Or start investigating on his own, but he didn't have time, he needed it. Rumbling of the bike eased tension he had from the committed crime, but only barely. As he came to a red light he slowed down and realized he was shaking badly, he knew it was not only from the setting sun and chilling air slowly creeping in, but also of stress. The realization that he might get caught always hit him harder after it settled in his mind. He inhaled deeply and eyed the nearby passengers. His eyes land on a woman in distance he never thought he would run into.

It was you, and you have been on your way to the flat with things you've gotten. The fact you saved up on the flat made you relax and indulge in the little shopping spree with Uraraka and groceries. You smiled from ear to ear nevertheless the tiredness creeping on you from the day.

„Mm...“ You sighed and rolled your shoulders.

„Maybe I'll make the thing she told me.“

You honestly looked like a happy child after realizing now that you have a roommate who pays for half of the expenses, you have extra cash to buy for things and make food at home. It wasn't a big deal to go out and buy something since it was cheap to buy a box of instant meal, but you wanted to cook your own food for a long time now. As you looked in the grocery bag and already beginning to think of the recipe you'd think for it, you suddenly bumped onto a stranger who didn't quiet follow his surroundings either. The harsh impact almost made you fall behind flat on your backside, but you managed to find balance. 'How rude-!' you thought.

„Ah-! S-sorry! I didn't mean to bump into you sir-„

„Watch where you are stepping wench-! I swear, women like you need to fucking know their place and stay at home.“

Excuse me?

Since when did this idiot have any right to find you to get his frustrations out?

You frowned at his sentence, knowing better not to engage with a random incel on the streets at evening hours, whose breath reeked of beer and bad hygiene, you decided to clutch your bags and pass by him hurriedly.

„Don't fucking ignore me!“

„Hey! Let me go!“

The man captures your wrist harshly and doesn't let go, now pulling you towards himself, he makes your belongings and your body stumble forward. His other hand wrap around your waist and starts dragging you along with him. Trying to shake yourself away only resulted in him recapturing you. He started laughing and you only now realize he quiet probably meant to bump into you.

He was trying to kidnap you-

„I said you are a bitch! Now you'll know your place-!“

„Let me go!“

Closing your eyes, the strong grip bruised your wrist and you yelped in pain, Your eyes veiled with tears as his disgusting sweaty hands found their way on your thighs to try and attempt to carry you, but the hold that was on you was suddenly broken free and a strong impact of a punch made the man fall flat on the ground. You were quiet sure you heard something broke as well.

„Agh! Son of a-!“

The adrenaline spiked in your veins and you immediately snapped out of it to see what was going on. Another hand rested on you almost protectively, you raised head to see a dark dressed figure that was very familiar. You were quiet shocked to find Shinsou held you close to his chest, wasn't he supposed to work until very late? You hear his quickened heartbeat and deep breathing as he gazed into the eyes of an attacker. Clutching onto him, you immediately felt more sorry for the drunken individual that had attacked you. Hooded eyes with dark eye bags were visible with blood rush, he stared down at his victim like a prey.

„I honestly can't believe how uncool you are, attacking a woman.“ He tilted his head on the side „Piss off before I do anything worse.“

The drunkard scrambled to his feet, he held onto his nose, groaning in pain inflicted by just his one punch.

„You fucker-! You broke my fucking nose!“

He charged again at Shinsou and you. This time, Shinsou quickly dispatched him by a high kick in his stomach, stealing all the air from his lungs. He hunched over and fell flat face forward, deeming him now unconscious. Your mouth went agape at his form, even though there were no visible passerby's, the drivers could certainly call police and at any moment and both of you would get caught.

„Shinsou!“ You panicked, finally reacting at the scene.

„Come on, lets get the hell out from here. He's bad news.“ He pat your shoulders and helped you scramble the bags that were on the ground.

He led you to climb on his bike that you were quiet hesitant to get on at first, he didn't let you get acquainted as the time was limited and you let out a noise of protest at first.

„We have no time, grab onto me.“ He revved up his bike and it rumbled.

„You just gonna escape like that!?“ You asked „What gives he's not gonna blame it on us? The police-“

„Police is not going to do shit.“ He glared at you „Unless you want to call them right now and deal with this sort of mess on Thursday evening, be my guest.“

You whined again, thinking thoroughly on his words you knew he was right so you followed his orders. If anything Shinsou was a witness if both of you ever end up getting caught. Holding onto the bags in your hand, you decided it was a better option to leave. Now climbing on you adjusted yourself in back of seat, the view in front of you were of his back, now starting to get illuminated by the street lights. He smelled nice, despite it being closed off by the leather jacket, his vibrant purple hair was flattened by the helmet, and you couldn't shake off the thought that you were about to hold him. You let your left hand slip around his stomach while your right one grips his shoulder.

Fuck, he was solid.

The gas made you back up a bit and grip on him tighter as he violently sped forwards to escape the scene. You hid your face in his back and held onto dear life. You weren't acquainted with bike's, most of your life was spent driving in cars and public transport, but you were quiet thankful to have him tell you when to lean on sides as you took turns.

„Just like riding a bicycle“ He claimed.

You relaxed after he talked more about it, there was something about him being calm in this situation made you very thankful. If he hadn't shown up...

Well, you wouldn't like to think about it.

He slowed down and stopped as the lights turned orange, then red, he took this opportunity to check on you. Shinsou leaned back and turned to you.

„You okay?“

„Y-yeah, still a bit shaken up about it. I... think I'll be fine. What about you?“

„I'm good.“ He replied shortly, his curt expression not giving anything else away.

In his mind, there wasn't anything he could do to help, the thought of comforting a victim was very alien to him. He could manage dispatching the person quickly, but he would rather much leave a therapy session to others. There was something about how he emotionally closed off himself that helped him do what he was working for, but it was never in favor when someone needed emotional support, like you right now.

His thought process was interrupted by a white scarf now gently falling around his neck.

„Your facial expression doesn't quiet match your body language Mr. Shinsou. Here, have this, your body is shaking.“

„What is this?“ He asked, tenderly reaching for the soft white fabric and letting the warmth of it settle around his neck.

„Its a scarf... I was planning on giving it to you. You are a good roommate to me.“

His eyes lit up at the realization, his knee was thumping up and down in nervousness from what he had been overthinking about, whats wrong with this woman? Is she going to be the one giving him the therapy session? He better not go soft now. The light turned green and you took a last turn to your place and he parked nearby. Both of you got off and he helped you by giving you a hand and with the bags.

„You didn't have to.“

„That's not true, I had to! I know work's probably putting a lot of strain on you just like mine is, and I know you mean only well, hell, you've been cooking an extra toast just for me.. and now you saved me.“

Both of you came to a stop as you entered the building. You sighed a little bit as words of gratitude escaped you

„And I just want to say.. Thank you."

Wide eyed like a kitten, he seemed so innocent if he didn't act so suspicions all the time. But this time you were so happy on seeing your roommate warming up to you. He was speechless for a solid second, he raised the scarf just a little bit to hide his mouth and nose.

Was he blushing?

"You really think that huh?" He asks, it was a simple question, but it got you stuttering madly and you looked onward, taking big steps as suddenly your flat was the lifeline of a place to be in right now. Shinsou himself didn't want to admit it but looking at you being cheerful after the events set his mind at ease.

"O-of course! A-and don't think that that you are ever a bad person, whoever is telling you bad things at work... They are wrong, because you are actually a really nice person... I think." You said without looking back.

„Now you are just sprouting nonsense.“ He chuckled and followed closely behind.

„Come on! I'm gonna cook us dinner. We are gonna feast.“

[unmaskedagain]

Marinette Vs Santa: The Rematch

Seven people requested a continuation of the Part 1 and I just gave in. I hope you like. I’m not big on writing sequels. So please let me know if its good.

When the news broke that billionaire Bruce Wayne’s daughter Marinette was dating the Roy, the son of billionaire Oliver Queen, it was like the world paused.

It was bigger than Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie.

Bigger than the royal wedding; both of them.

Bigger than the twilight love affair.

The Angel Marinette, the newfound princess of Gotham, dating the wayward Bad boy Roy, the prince of Star City.

Roy was handsome, really smart, funny, had a kickass attitude, played guitar and soccer, and loved animals; at least that’s what Jason told her Because Marinette had never met the guy.

People were betting on when they’d get married, have kids, what they’d name them…

And Marinette doesn’t even know the guy. I never had a single conversation with him.

Now Jason wanted her to… What?

“Come on!” Jason begged. “Just let him take you to the ball.”

           Marinette sat at her desk, with arms cross, glaring furiously at her brother, as she contemplated murder. “No.”

           Jason tossed his hands up in the air, “He’s really great. You’d like him.”

“I don’t care if reveals he’s actually Tom Holland ala Hannah Montana style,” Marinette growled. “No.”

“He’s in a bind,” Jason pleaded with his sister, giving her the biggest puppy dog eyes, he could muster. “His dad’s been giving him a lot of grief lately about him going to college and taking over the company one day and the bad press he’s been getting. Once Roy said he was taking Wayne’s princess to the ball, it stopped.”

“Why did he even say it?” Marinette yelled.

“He’s a moron!” Jason yelled back. “But he’s my best friend. He’s rich. He’s handsome. He comes from a great family. He’s strong. Gotta nice bad boy thing going on. A motorcycle. Sorta mysterious. How could you not want to date him?”

Marinette chuckled, “Maybe because I’m starting to think you might be.” She eyed him. “If this you two using me as a beard or whatever, cool. But Bruce Wayne and Oliver queen both been seen with Male lovers, I don’t think they’d mind…”

Jason glared at her, “I’m not dating Roy. Redheaded dudes are a little creepy.”

“Are they now?” Yeah, Marinette thought, really selling.

           Jason pinched his nose, “Didn’t you ever wanna be Cinderella? Go to the ball with the Prince? Roy is that prince. The only one above him would be an actual prince. I thought all little girls did? Can you do it, please? For me?”

           That’s when Marinette remembered the first time she saw Disney’s Cinderella. She had been six. It was Christmas. She had fallen instantly in love with the movie, the dress, the songs, the prince so much so that she talked about being Cinderella to her parents. Her dad just laughed and told her to write Santa. Ask him to make you Cinderella.

           And so six-year-old Marinette did.

           And now nearly ten years later, staring at her brother, she now knew… Santa had a hit list. It was the only explanation. Santa was gunning for her. Seeing what it took to break her. Finally, get her on the naughty list. Be careful what you wish for after all.

“I want to meet him,” Marinette said slowly with a defeated sigh.

“Yes!” Jason cheered. “I know the Cinderella thing would work.”

           Marinette glared, “You know I know at actual prince right? Prince Ali.”

“No! Wait! We can talk about this!”

“Kidding.”

“Thank god,” Jason sighed in relief. “Oh, you can’t tell Bruce its fake.”

           Marinette closed her, counted to ten, and stopped herself from screaming the only thing on her mind: FUCK SANTA.

           The Tsurugi house had been tense since Kagami returned from school. Her grandparents had expressed their approval of her befriend Wayne’s youngest daughter. Kagami’s mother had been pleased that they would be receiving an invitation to the Wayne New Year’s ball.

           They had been waiting all day for the invite to come. Both mother and daughter anxiously doing all they could to avoid waiting by the door.

           When the doorbell rang, Kagami had to force herself not to run for it.

Discipline, she thought, control.

           Her mother’s assistant announced, “Miss Wayne is here, Lady Kagami.”

           Yes, she was. Marinette Dupain-Cheng-Wayne curtsied gracefully, “Mrs. Tsurugi. Kagami. I hope you are well this evening.”

           Light, polite, took place after that. Her mother almost smiled in approval at Marinette.

           When Marinette finally handed the invitation over, “I do hope you can attend,” She said. “I apologize for the short notice.”

           Mrs. Tsurugi bowed. “It would be an honor to attend.”

“We look forward to it,” Kagami added.

“I… admit I have always wanted to go the Wayne’s Ball,” The older woman admitted the barest hint of a smile on her face. “One thing off my Christmas list, I suppose.”

           At this, Marinette beamed, a vindictive pleasure coursed through. Yes, she wanted to his, Kiss my ass, Santa.

           Going to Chloe’s was… interesting for Marinette. She hadn’ t even had the chance to knock on the penthouse door before Chloe had ripped it opened.

“Mama,” She called. “Marinette’s here.”

           That was all the signal needed, for Audrey Bourguis to throw opened both doors of her office, “Ahh Marinette. How lovely to see you, darling.”

           If Marinette had been a little meaner, she would have admitted that the scene was felt oddly similar to what it was like to see the stepsisters in Cinderella get the invitations to the ball. Chloe had been her bully, and she hadn’t changed all that much.

“Thank you for having me,” Marinette said easily. She presented the invitation. “I hope you can go,” She told Chloe and her mother honestly. “I could use more friends there.”

           Chloe’s eyes softened despite the look of the annoyance on her face, “Of course we’re going.”

“Agreed,” Audrey said. “Everyone who is anyone is going. And we are most definitely anyone. The question is what are we wearing? Classic ball gown. Or a modern princess. What are you wearing? Everyone wants to know.”

“Roy Queen on her arm,” Chloe giggled.

           Audrey smiled, her first real smile of the day, “Now that is quite the handsome accessory, bravo.”

           They discussed fashion choices and who is supposed to be wearing who. All while Marinette dodged every attempt from Audrey to design her dress for the ball. And the older woman had been determined.

           It was a harrowing experience. If Chloe hadn’t been her new best friend, Marinette would’ve given in to the desire to rip back the invite and tear it shreds.

           As she was living, Audrey said, “I was always dreamed about it; the Wayne New Years’ ball,” It was said with a lovingness and dreamy voice that neither Chloe or Marinette had ever heard her use before. “When I was a little girl, I would watch every year and just dream about it. I envied and critiqued over dresses. When I was really little, I used to ask Santa to go every year. I’d even design my own dress; every year. Its why I got into fashion. I was a little girl who dreamed about her own ball gown.”

Marinette would leave the penthouse, walk outside where her driver waited, and before she got into the car, she stared at the Christmas decorations. At the robotic Santa waving, and whisper lowly, “We’ll call this a tie.”

But the fight wasn’t over.

           Luka had no idea what to do with the invitation. Neither did his mother. Sure, they had heard about the Wayne ball but Juleka had Rose whispering in her ear so she made sure that her brother accepted.

“This is a favor to me,” Marinette pleaded. “Father will pay for the trip, for the expenses. Luka is my friend, and I would like him there. With you all of course.”

           Juleka begged her mother, “Please! Rose said this a once in a lifetime experience.”

           Luka eyed his sister but shrugged, “I’m in. What are friends for? He is your brother Tim single?”

What did you just say to me, punk? Marinette nearly snapped. She knew, of course, that Luka always had a celebrity crush on Tim Drake-Wayne. He even put jokingly put a kiss under the mistletoe with Tim Drake on his shopping list. But it was different now that Tim was her brother. Marinette needed her friends on her side; her family was insane. And she swore if Luka spent the entire Ball mooning over Tim, she was going to fly to the North Pole and shove her foot right up Santa’s…

“I won’t know anyone,” Anarka finally said interrupting Marinette’s thought. “It’ll be all boring people listening to classical music.”

“Oh!” Marinette straightened up. “Jagged Stone will be there,” She said brightly.

           The glare she got from Luka’s mother could’ve been weaponized.

           Marinette left their house feeling a bit shook.

“Ho! Ho! Ho!” She heard and saw Santa impersonator walking on the street.

           Marinette’s eyes narrowed. A less person would’ve just taken him out, she knew. But Paparazzi was everywhere, and for once that was the only thing stopping her. Not being nice or polite.

No, Marinette raged inwardly, that time was over.

           Instead, she shot him a glare, “Score one for you.”

           The next day at school was even worse than the day before… Paparazzi wise.

“Marinette! Marinetti,” A lady from seventeen magazines yelled. “What was your first date like with Roy? Was it Romanic? Did you kiss him? Is he a good kisser?”

           Marinette ignored them all as her father walked her into school again; this time with Tim and Cassandra.

“Bruce! What do you think of your daughter dating someone two years older than her?” Bruce stiffened.

“How long have you been dating the Queen heir?”

“Have you had sex yet?”

“What is he wearing the ball?”

           The questions went on and on.

           Marinette got to class and all but collapsed in her seat with a huff. This was too much. Her papa had assured her it would calm down soon.

“It will get better,” Kagami assured.

           Chloe patted her back comfortingly, “Paparazzi are so invasive.”

           Alix snorted, “What do you know about it.”

“Her mother is Style Queen,” Marinette answered before Chloe could. “One of the leading faces in fashion today; she can make or break a designer; start trends and end them. Everyone knows her name. Her face. She is the Devil’s Wears Prada: Miranda Presley of our world. Chloe was born with paparazzi wanting to know if her diaper was designer.”

           Her classmates were shocked at her defense of the blonde.

“And for the record,” Chloe said sounding pleased. “They were.”

“What’s it like dating Roy Queen,” Rose asked excitedly, ignoring the tenseness of the room like she was always doing. “He’s so dreamy. Did you know I have him on my bedroom wall?”

           Yes, Marinette did know. She helped decorate.

“Like a dream come true,” Marinette said with a forced smile.

Because like the most dreams, some crazy person made it up, She thought. Jason. Jason made it up.

“Do you think you’ll get married,” Mylene asked giving heart eyes to Ivan who blushed.

           Marinette was about to answer when she noticed Alya’s phone was out, and she looked way to interested what Marinette was saying.

“I didn’t give permission for an interview,” She said. “Or for permission to have my conversation recorded as is required by law.”

“You never minded before,” Alya pointed out. “This could be huge for my blog.”

           Marinette rolled her eyes, “No one knew I was a Wayne before. I have to be careful now.”

“Someone who knows you should give an inside scoop,” The glasses-wearing girl said. “Let people know what you’re really like, what you’re really thinking. We can do an interview right now!”

“Class is about to start,” Chloe sneered.

           Kagami glared, “Delete it or hear from our lawyers.”

           Adrien stood up, “Don’t you think you’re being a bit harsh.” Some of the other students nodded. “She doesn’t mean it harm.”

“I don’t care what she meant,” Marinette snapped. “I will not have private conversations on display for the world to hear. It's an invasion.” She told him and looked back at her once best friend. “Delete the recording from your phone.”

           Alya crossed her arms, a petulant look appeared on her face, “I already posted it on my blog,” She said smugly. “Too late now.”

“Delete it,” Kagami and Chloe chimed together.

           Alya stood her ground and sent them a look similar to what Rena Rouge sent Akumas, “No! It’s my private property,” She snapped, and she sent a smirk at Marinette. “You can’t make me.”

“Are you sure about that?” Marinette asked. “It’s your last chance.”

“This is my blog,” Alya said.

“Then prepare to see it burn.”

           All Marinette wanted for Christmas last year was for Chat Noir to leave her alone and for Alya to wake up, stop listening to Lila and reporting false news about Ladybug.

           Before the bell rang for lunch, Alya’s screech could be heard for miles. The Ladyblog was gone. Her mom had deleted it. Well not deleted the website but deleted everything on it. It had been an accident. Alya’s mom had been desperate to delete the interview of Marinette as quickly as possible. After realized what she had done, she quickly went to school to talk with her daughter.

“Why?” Alya had demanded in tears.

“Why?” Her mother shouted back. “Do you even know what you’ve done? What could happen to you? To your family?”

Her parents were furious. They had gotten a cease and desist Bruce Wayne’s lawyers, a notice that the Ladyblog was being sued for invasion privacy. Officer Raincomprix had shown up to let the know Alya was being hit with criminal charges; it was illegal to record a private conversation without permission for public use; even more so if it involved a minor.

Four hours. It took four hours for the Ladyblog to go up in flames.

The akuma had not been pleasant to deal with. But surprisingly, it wasn’t Alya. It was her mother; scared to death that her daughter had pissed off one of the richest family’s in the world and might have destroyed her own.

           Alya left school early that day, and wouldn’t come back for the rest of the week.

           Marinette counted that a win in the “Fuck Santa” Category. She could get her own freaking Christmas presents.

           Marinette had been sitting with Kagami and Chloe, enjoying lunch in the cafeteria when suddenly all the noise stopped. A needle dropping would be heard.

“Babe,” A voice shouted.

           Every hair on Marinette’ s body froze. What were the chances that an overly loud voice that sounded so familiar, so like how Roy Queen sounded in every video she ever saw of him, wasn’t actually Roy Queen?

No. It couldn’t be, she thought, Not even Santa’s that cruel.

           She glanced behind her and tried not to groan. It was Roy Queen alright. Red hair, handsome face, smug ‘kick me in the teeth’ smile. He was gorgeous. The exact type she’d been into. He had a bouquet of red roses and what looked to be expensive chocolates.

           That was when suddenly she remembered how much she wished for the same scenario. For her boyfriend, imaginary at the time, to surprise during school just because. When she was eleven, it was a Christmas wish on a star. (all her friends had boyfriends at the time; even if they only last two weeks at most.)

Another point for Jolly Saint Nick, she thought glumly.

           An arm went around her shoulder, “Miss Me,” Roy smirked as he pulled her into a hug.

           Marinette hugged him back tightly, a pleasant grin on her face, masking her true feelings, “I’m going to kill you,” She whispered. She kissed him softly on the cheek. “And I’m not even going to make it look like an accident.”

           She wasn’t entirely sure if she was talking to him or Santa Clause; maybe both.

           The smile was on Roy’s face as he pulled away, “You are definitely Jason’s sister.” He looked her up and down. “So… want to ditch school?”

           Marinette sighed, “Fuck Santa.”

           She didn’t care who heard now.

           Marinette did not skip school. Roy did pick her up from school, on a motorcycle. The pictures were being recycled on the news.

           All three of her parents were furious. Marinette had barely managed to get out of being grounded.

Santa would not beat her. She would not end up on the fat guy’s naughty list. Unless the reason was that she was standing over his cold, dead corpse.

“Okay,” Marinette said as she paced her bedroom. “I’m losing it.”

“You’re fine,” Tikki promised. “This time year gets to everyone. It will get better.”

“He’s persecuting me,” The bluenette.

           Tikki sighed at her chosen’s antics, “Santa is not after you.”

           Suddenly, there was a loud crash. Her bedroom door swung open, Tim rushed in looking a mess and beyond frazzled, “Tell me you can sing?” He shouted. “Doesn’t matter. I told everyone that you’re singing at the ball. It’s gonna be great.” And then he ran from the room.

           It went silent.

“Coward!” She yelled after him        

Marinette recalled her desire, her wish to finally overcome her shyness, her stage fright. She recalled the time fainted during a choir rehearsal for the Christmas pageant. She had been eight-years-old and vowed to never sing publicly.

“…Maybe Santa is out to get you,” Tikki said bluntly who knew all about Marinette’s fear of singing.

           Tim suddenly ran back in the room, “You’re having dinner with Roy and his parents tomorrow.” He said. “And Dad wants you to meet the Justice League. Have fun.” And he was gone.

“Fuck. Santa!” She screamed.

[kimhargreeves]

Criminal-Edward Nashton x Reader

Summary:You are starting a new job as a secretary in the gcpd but then you meet Ed who isn't quite fond of you.

A/N:In all honesty I imagined this oneshot as the riddler from the upcoming movie and from the show Gotham. So you can choose with which version to read as, sorta got inspired from Ed's relationship with Kristine kringle.

The building seems a bit bigger up close..I stared at the bold letters and the almost dirty walls next to the building painted in graffiti, many words were painted on it, especially insults towards the people who's supposed to protect the city. "We'll see each other real soon." A guard told me when I stepped out of the gates before I arrived here. That's what they want. I won't let them have their fun and bet on me that I'll be returning. I took a deep breathe and slowly made my way into the building. It was no longer cold in here, but my presence caught the attention of some police men and women. Another guard walked over to me and asked me what I was doing here, "I heard that there's a position here for a secretary." I answered the man. The man nodded his head and told me to follow him into an office. A man was sitting on the chair and he gave me a gentle smile when he noticed me walk in, "Good afternoon miss." "Afternoon sir. I heard that there's in need of a secretary here in the gcpd since the last one got fired I assume?" I asked as I tilted my head and the man snapped out of his thoughts and nodded his head, "Yes! Not to get into people's lives but the last one got drunk and threatened to gun the place down when he got hold of a weapon." I just nodded my head and listened to him talk, I handed him my resume and all my paperwork and background. "I believe you need better security here." The man chuckled thinking it was a joke of mine. "Well, Mrs. (L/N), I do hope this doesn't bring any trouble in the future." The man chuckled once more when he held a document. "I can assure you sir, nothing will happen. I studied in one of the best colleges in Gotham and was the best in my class. I took on a lot of classes back then." The man hummed and asked me more questions, everything seems to go smooth and I know I'll do great in this job. "Well it's your lucky day Mrs (L/N). Welcome to the gcpd." I smiled and shook his hand back eagerly. "I won't let you down sir. Thank you for letting me work here." Together we began walking and when we reached down the stairs a man as tall as the boss kept staring at us. He was nicely dressed with a lab coat on him too and a pair of glasses on him. "Mr. Nashton, this is Mrs. (L/N). Our new secretary. He'll finish showing you around." The younger man didn't seem happy. The boss went back to his office, it was just us now. "Follow me." He muttered and I quickly followed. "If we're going to be co-workers then you can call me (Y/N)." I offered him a smile. He didn't return it. "Ed." was what he told me, he didn't tell me anything else just left me at my desk and left. ******* It's been a month since I started working here and everything was going great. I've been getting along with some people here and would occasionally see James Gordon working and catching criminals. The man seemed to never get sleep. As for Ed well I have seen him thing is I believe he's been avoiding me. Every morning since we're to be earlier than the rest since I am a secretary and he does autopsies, I bring in breakfast or coffee. I always hand one to Ed he only mutters a thanks and quickly leaves before I could talk. I was bored and finishing up some paperwork, everyone had already left, well most officers. The whole city was going insane tonight and the headlines were going to be all over the place tomorrow morning. I was working when I noticed many running out the door. "The mayor has been killed!" Someone shouted. The whole forensics team left to lift up the body and inspect the place. It had been more than three hours, most officers including Gordon stayed behind inspecting the place up to try and determine who killed the mayor. I looked around the gcpd and noticed some officers sleeping and other typing in their computers, behind me I saw some light which was the room where the bodies are, where the mayor is. Thankfully I finished the papers so maybe taking a peek won't hurt. As quietly as I could I stood up and state heading into the room. I pushed the doors open and the light was brighter inside than in any room, there was some plastic scattered across the room with some tools and metal bowls along with knives. This whole room was creeping me out a bit especially the only body that was lying in the middle of the room. The mayor had a sheet over him. I looked around me to make sure no one could scare me, slowly I started to uncover the sheet when a hand grabbed my wrist stopping me. I jumped up a bit and looked up to see Ed with cold eyes. "What are you doing here?" "I finished work so I thought i could check in if you were here." I also told him which was entirely a lie. "Why are you always nice to me?" He quickly asked bit angered up. I flinched when he gripped me tighter, he noticed this and took a step back and let go of me. "You think I don't know you? Just a month ago you were released from Arkham. You killed three people in cold blood and police arrested you on the spot, those men you killed were responsible for your parents death." He began talking quick. How does he knows all of this?! Ed huffed out annoyed and ignored me and started putting on some gloves. "Want to see the body?" I stepped away hoping he'd understand me, he didnt, Ed slowly uncovered the body and the mayor had lots of blood and duct tape all over his head. "The only one you should fear are the living." He whispered to himself but I heard him. "Who could do such a thing?" "Are you impressed or scared?" Ed asked looking back at me and pushing his glasses up to his face when he examined the body. "I guess you could say both." I started walking back closer to him. "I've changed you know? I was locked up Arkham for a reason. I would never harm someone." Ed nodded his head. "I've never been to Arkham..is it as crazy a people say it is?" "I would say some areas. The mentally ill are on the other side from where I was but it was hard to sleep at night with screams, crying..laughing..It was haunting, the ill patients need to be supervised not critized, I've seen the way guards threat them." Ed listened closely to what I said and smiled just a bit. "Interesting. So tell me (Y/N), what do you think of this?" It is the first time I've heard him say my first name, what is up with him? "I don't know." I truthfully answered. I jumped a bit when Ed placed both hands on my shoulders. "It is getting a bit late. Why don't you go home and rest up." "What about y-you?" I felt my face boiling up at how close he was getting to me. "I'll be staying up all night, watching the news, finishing up the autopsy." I furrowed my eyebrows but said nothing else. "Okay..goodnight Ed." Without turning to look back I headed to my desk to grab my belongings and quickly started to walk out of the gcpd, it was raining a bit and my body felt cold especially since I had the feeling someone was watching me. I hurried to my apartment building and when I opened the door to enter some arms were wrapped around me and a cloth was placed on my nose. I tried fighting the attacker but all I could do was shut my eyes and lean back against the man who got me. I opened my eyes once more and the last thing I saw was a dark green coat and glasses.

[yamithediaperdork]

Two kinks, One love. (Soul eater)

Two Kinks one love

It was just after sun set, but in Death city two boys were about to engage in a very out of the norm date by any stretch of the imagination. They had run into each other while out and about, indulging in their respective fetishes late one night and while both had been shocked, they had also quickly fallen hard for each other.

The first Boy was the son of Lord death, the slightly prissy but kind hearted Death the kid. he'd been wearing his favorite black dress which came down to just above his knees and had been wearing pantyhose too of course, like a proper lady. Black high highs that he could run in without pause and a black purse, his make up had been spot on and he looked fabulous and knew it. It was the worst kept secret that the son of lord death was a trap, but most people just pretended not to notice because either they didn't care, thought he was MUCH nicer in girlie mode or well, who wants to piss him off? The second boy was in a small group of those who didn't know Kid prefer to be a sexy trap, though that was because he was busy with his only little fetish wear love. He was Black star, a legend in the making (if you listened to him) And he was also a goo goo gaga big baby. The night they met he'd been going on a waddle of shame and had been in 3 thick diapers that puffed out the crotch and butt of his black diaper shirt and blue short-all's (that of course, had his trademark sign on the front pocket.) He'd also been sporting blue sneakers with black laces that lit up in the back as he went for his once around the block waddle of shame and it had been by chance (or maybe fate) that the two had stumbled onto each other.

Black had been rounding the corner, after almost going into a late night shop for ice cream but then recalling he had left his wallet at home so no one could id him. (Silly when you consider how well he stood out and his instance on making sure everyone knew him..but it was a well know fact putting diapers on a big baby reduces logic by 40 percent.)  In any case, he knew his store credit was tapped out and decided to call it a night. looking back at the shop he wasn't paying attention to where he was going and bumped into a pretty lady sending them both down to the ground. "Oh Gosh! I-I'm Sorry!" Black whined, trying to scamper but but the bulk around his hips made that a bit harder then normal.  "I wasn't paying attention to where I was.." And Black trailed off as he looked down and recognized in a instant the face of the 'lady' he had bumped into, Kid! "heh..It's ok Little guy." Kid said, eyes narrowing in on the padded crotch. "Little boys like you shouldn't be out here along. where's your mommy?" Black gulped BIG time at that, He had always loved the idea of having a mommy for his diaper adventures but was gay as could be..and suddenly a obvious solution he had never thought of had just bumped into him.

Kid himself had been soaking in the semi attention and had let his gaze drift, looking at a dress on display in a store shop window and so had been just as responsible for the collision as the little guy. Looking up and seeing Black dressed like a over sized un-potty trained toddler Kid almost had little hearts in his eyes. if there was one thing he loved more then being a hot little trap walking the town.. it was being a good mommy dom. Sadly his picks for big babies in the city had been limited to Liz Thompson due to her cry baby ways. it wasn't that the older Thompson didn't make a good baby (she did, very much so) it was more that due to her doing it by request not want she could be difficult at times. But here in front of him dressed perfectly on his own free will.. Meow~ "well, I asked you a question little star~" Kid said getting up and smiling ear to eye and then dusting Black off first then himself. "I..I don't..have..a mommy..Miss Kid" Black said, blushing and poking two fingers together. "Do you want one?" Kid asked and winked. "YESH! I-I Mean..if that's ok with yo-" And Black was silenced as Kid kissed the baby on the lips.

From then on Black had been mommies little guy and despite some of the challenges involved (read: Black's mega poopie diapers) neither of them had looked back on it, and while they both wanted it to be a more 24/7 thing they both knew realistically with their duties and responsibilities that just wasn't possible. Besides, while Kid was more or less out in the open, Black was mostly unknown as a public diaper boy having kept his adventure to around his block. He wasn't ready for EVERYONE to know his favorite place to make boom boom was in the seat of his pants.

But tonight was date night, and it was Kid's turn to host. truthfully either place would of done for their in house date nights butttt Black's place had a funk to it that wasn't from the diaper pail the big baby maintained and more from his poor cleaning habits. Kid had taken the guest room of his place and turned it into any big baby boys dream nursery (and Black had been clear, he was a baby BOY..Mommy might be able to pull a dress off but not him.) and held out hope that one of these days Black would finally take him up on the offer to move in. Their friends knew they were dating of course (just not all the fun details) so it wasn't like that was holding them back. Kid was jolted out of that train of thought as his door bell rang and before he went to answer it he stopped and checked his reflection in a full body mirror. He had gone with a stepford house wife dress for tonight, reaching down past his knees and in a white with pink floral print on it and had a white apron on over it. he was wearing a pair of white socks tugged up high and a pair of pink flat heels and have a pair of pearl earrings in. a light bit of make up was on, some eye linger, lipstick and blush, and he smiled at his reflection and blew a little kiss as the doorbell rang again. "Best not keep the baby waiting darling." he scolded himself and walked to the door with a soft clip clap from his shoes on the hard wood floor. answering the door Kid was a little disappointed (though not shocked) to see that Black had come over in jean's and a t-shirt, though he'd brought his 'diaper' bag so to speak and had it slung over a shoulder. it was of course really just a tote bag but Kid made sure to refer to it as such as while he had loads of supplies, he made sure that Black would bring his own ba-ba and first diaper(s) to help him get used to carrying his baby gear around in public. (and maybe just a tiny bit to try and drive home if Black lived with kid, he wouldn't have to lug the stuff around) "There's my little guy~" Kid coo'ed and smiled, loving how bright the boys cheeks lit up when he was the one dressed like a 50's house wife. Standing to the side he gestured for Black to come in. "well come on, are you gonna stand there and squirm looking at mommy till you have a accident or come in and get di-" Kid started but Black let out a soft yelp and dashed in the house. "..works every time." Kid chuckled and waved to a neighbor who had been watching with quiet amusement then shut the door.

Black was squirming and huffy as he waited for mommy in the living room, having made sure to slid his sneakers off. "I wish you wouldn't do that." he sulked as mommy came into view. That wasn't exactly the strictest of truths.. he didn't wanna be a outed big baby but mommies teasing had a small part of him all excited "Mhmmm.. I know you hate it sooo much.." Kid teased and eyed the front of Black's tight pants that gave him away. "Come on little man, let's get you in a nice thick diapie before you piddle all over mommies floor again." Kid coo'ed and coming in close, tickled onto Black's chin and made the boy squirm and giggle even as he tried to huff. "Mommmmmmyyyy! that was ONE time!" He whined, hating/loving how small and little Kid could make him feel with a few well chosen words and just a chin tickle. "And that one time too many. Come along now." Kid coo'ed and gently took the little guy by the wrist, leading him to the nursery.  "Did you pack one of your super thick diapies like a good boy? or does mommies have to use one of the ones we have here?" Black whined and squirmed. he had SORTA kinda maybe been trying to just bring thin diapers over here..not because he wanted thin but well mommy had SO many thick ones here and he only had about 5 left and was trying to save his. Sadly for the little rascal mommy had figured him out and loved to tease. "I uh..well..see.." Black started up. "That's what i thought. you know, not to beat a dead horse but if you moved in you could have ALL the massive diapies you could want little man. I'll order anther pack and have them ship it to your place tomorrow though. just food for thought." Black star nodded and just let mommy take control, knowing that mommy knew best.

The nursery had baby blue walls with some silly chibi ninja's painted on them here and there fighting chibi monsters and the floor was covered with a plush cream white rug so if the baby lost his balance he wouldn't hurt his tush on the floor. (Of course with the thickness o0f Black's diapers it wasn't likely to happen but hey, Kid paid for all of this so he was allowed to justify it as he saw fit.) there was a wooden crib that had been made to order so could handle a bigger babies weight and left the little guy lots of room to play in by one wall, and it had been painted light black by black's request. (the little guy had wanted to help paint it but Kid had foreseen the mess THAT would of ended with and had told a little fib that the builders insisted on painting it themselves.) there was a cream white colored changing table, again made to order and had a black cushioned top those the cover was waterproof and made for easy clean up in the event of leaks. It also had a set of drawers on the side that held the different baby powders, rash creams and of course diapers that Kid's big baby had picked out one night in Kid's lap squealing and giggling. 'I'm gonna make him a spoiled rotten brat.' Kid mused briefly. 'ah well..he'll be MY spoiled rotten brat.' Adding to the spoiled brat theory was the MASSIVE toy chest that even as big as it was couldn't be fully shut from just how many toys little Black had, and there was a shelf built on a wall filled with nursery tale and story tale books. Of course one of the most important parts of the nursery had actually been the cheapest..it was a large metal diaper pail that Kid had stenciled 'BLACK STAR'  onto and helped keep his little man's nursery smelling like baby powder and love instead of poopie diapers.

"You strip down like a good boy sweetie while mommy goes and picks out something adorable for you to wear..unless you wanna just go in your diapies tonight." Kid said and smirked. "IIIII um..yeah..just diapies sounds good ta me..we're gonna eat soon anyways and then you'll hafa just strip me down after anyways mommy." "oh how true! such a clever baby I have!" Kid coo'ed and more chin tickles. "I guess i can help the silly big baby strip then." Black squirmed and nodded, and then just relaxed and followed orders as Mommy would tell him to raise his arms or the like while 'she' got him undressed, getting him down to his his little ghoulies briefs.(Little Ghoulies of course being Black's favorite toddler show) "oh my.. Somebody either been having accidents or just isn't very good at wiping!" Kid teased, clicking his touge as he looked at the large brown stains in the back of the undies. "and I JUST got these for you last week little man." "S-Sorry Mommy. I um..I just.. I had some not farts an-" Black mewed and pointed his index fingers together. "Shhh it's ok. I knew what I was getting into when I brought a big baby big kid undies. though maybe we better start looking into some pull ups for when your playing big boy." Kid coo'ed and kissed Black's cheek, making him tent out his briefs and shushing any argument, at least for the moment. hooking his thumbs in the waist band he tugged the undies down with one smooth practiced monition and then took a step back and clapped his hands and gestured towards his widdle boy. "Come on, walk out of your stinky undies and over to mommy~" "Yesh mama.." Black gurgled and Kid almost melted as he did so, with arms outstretched. 'it's official. i am the god damn luckiest mommydom trap in the world.' Kid mentally gushed and then helped the big baby up onto the changing table. sure the little guy smelled a little and had a few poo stains on his cheeks, but Kid figured with them having a whole night together he could just give the little guy a bath after din din. "Nowww what kinda diaper does my widdle guy want on, aside from thick. Baby blocks? Space ships? zoo print?" Kid asked tickling Black's tummy and black giggled and coo'ed. "Ummm All three!" he said and giggled more. "oh, somebody want to crawl tonight hmmm? Maybe after your bath sweetie. for now we'll go with baby blocks." Kid chuckled. "Awwww..dun want a bath! I smell nice and sweet!" Black pouted and then to prove his point raised his left arm up and took a whiff of his pit..and coughed.  "Then again..Mommy knows best." "mmmhmm. and don't you forget it~" Kid chuckled.

With baby black padded and a sucking on a white mouth guard paci that was attached to a black cord hanging around his neck (kid couldn't very well use a shirt clip if the little guy wasn't gonna wear a shirt after all.) he helped the baby down and then got out five toys for black to play with, though they were Black's choice as Kid would pick them out one at a time and hold them up for a head nod or shake. Black meanwhile suckled away and enjoyed the sight of mommy's butt when he bent over, sometimes mommies dress would ride up a little and ALMOST maybe give a peek at what kinda panties he was wearing. It didn't really bug Black that while Kid saw him naked and in his 'undies' most of the time, Black could count on one hand the amount of times he'd seen Kid's Bra and panties. that just wasn't the kinda relationship they had, though then did find ways to make love in their own fashion. Finally picking out a stuffed bear in a tux, a green and purple dragon stuffie, a stereo type bed-sheet ghost stuffie, a teddy in a suit of armor and finally a tiger stuffie he started to play with them, mumbling around his paci and making drool go down his chin. Kid watched mentally gushing and while he wished he could hear the cute little adventure that was being played out as Black loved to narrate, it was worth it to hear him mumbling around his paci. he could of stood there watching for hours honestly but the front door rang and he sighed, why of ALL the nights had his usual delivery place had to of lived up to it's 30 minutes or under delivery time? "Din din's here buddy, can you put your toys away and come meet mommy in the kitchen while he goes and pays?" Kid asked, patting Blacks head. Black whined a little and mumbled something, then sighed like ALL of the worlds problems were on him and nodded.

getting to the front door Kid opened it without checking and found himself looking face to face with soul. "Alright ma'am i got a order of...of..Kid?! Kid is that you?!" Soul asked, being anther one of the rare people not to know about the trap. "uh..yeah.. " kid said and blushed then smiled. "anyways, my order?" "I..oh wow. heh. I didn't know you and black were this kinky! wait, is he a little sissy too?" soul asked. "I believe it's none of your business. now can you ple-" Kid started, but then a loud "MOMMY! I SLIPPED COME KISS MY BOO BOO'S BETTER !!" was heard from the living room and Kid facepalmed while soul laughed. "you know what, I think i got a pretty good idea.. Mommy." Soul chuckled, and took the money he was offered for the food and tipped the hat of his delivery uniform. "You and your widdle one have a good supper Ma'am." he said and then took off. "..Hoo boy..this isn't gonna be fun to explain." Kid thought as he closed the door.

The end.

[clydesgod]

‘the 9th layer’

Feat. Richard, and, another person

(A more relaxed drabble now, featuring Richard’s favourite bar and his favourite barkeep.)

TW: Alcohol, light sexual themes

——————————————–

Trodding along the wet pavement, Richard hobbled through the street and made a turn towards a little alleyway. The alleyway wasn’t inhabited. In fact, there were a few small shops and bars thrown about. He kept moving on though, not really caring about them. It wasn’t like he went to those ones at all anyway. He had only one place on his mind, after all.

‘The 9th layer’, the most decent bar in this city.

Upon entering the little room, Richard took off his leather jacket and hung it up on the wide array of hooks in front of him. Looked like it was just him today. Good, he sorta liked it that way when it wasn’t loud. He made his way past a small curtain and into the main area of the bar where there were cushioned stools lined up against the main bar area, with little seating areas being them in case you didn’t at all fancy sitting so close to there. It was amazing how well this place was doing despite the lack of space.

Richard took a seat near the bar, pulling the chair out and dragging it across the floor to indicate to the bartender that he was in and waiting for a drink. A little bit rude, sure, but Richie knew how much Mattias didn’t like being yelled at.

Swiftly, a latch opened up from behind the bar, and a skinny, but tall figure came out of it. He was climbing on a ladder, and struggled a bit upon getting out. Nothing to worry about though, it happened a lot to him.

Whilst Richard was gray, Mattias was almost entirely purple. Some parts of his face and body had patches that were lighter than the rest. His ears were long and pointed and his eyes were black, except for his irises, which were red. He was wearing a nice white shirt, with a dated but stylish waistcoat and striped pants. He was probably wearing suspenders under there too. Upon leaving the hatch and closing it, he stood all the way up without bending his back forward. He had to be at least 7’4’, though his horns made him look 4 inches taller. He had some hair, though it was rather short and slicked back. He had a very tiny goatee as well, one that looked barely noticeable if you were looking at him from afar.

“The usual please, Matti.” Richard asked, resting his elbows and forearms against the bar as he leaned on over. He looked at the wide array of spirits he had on display too. He began to wonder if anyone actually asked for those, he never saw Mattias turn around to take one from it’s slot. Was it just for decoration?

Mattias made a noise of agreement and got to work, taking out a clean glass from below, spinning it so the open end was on the top, and placed it against a tap that was labeled ‘Asahi’. He began to pour, not making any noise as he stared straight into the golden, frothy liquid that was pouring out.

Richard stared along at it too, loving the way he poured drinks. Was there even a style to that? He didn’t really consider if bartenders and mixologists had their own way of pouring stuff.

“Y’know,” Richard began, readjusting himself on his stool as he spoke. “I was thinking about getting into mixology myself. Seems fun to do.”

“...very good.” Mattias replied, eyes hardly connecting with Richard’s as he turned off the tap and placed the beer right in front of Richard, making sure it was on a coaster provided so it wouldn’t ruin the bar he had just cleaned.

Richard wasted no time, reaching for it and promptly taking a casual first sip. It was refreshing, especially after a long day at work. ‘Must’ve been hard to Mattias,’ he wondered. Mainly because he hardly ever saw Mattias outside of his work place, except for bumping into him in the local store. He was calm, a man of few words.

“Aaaah. Lovely pint as always. My compliments to the barkeep.”

“...thank you.”

...Maybe a man of too few words. Things got awkward pretty quick. He took a rag and started to clean an empty glass to pass the time, he didn’t like leaving customers alone.

Richard took another swig, tapping a finger on the bar.

“So...you er, done anything fun today?”

“...not really.”

“Seen any new films?”

“...no.”

“...err...has Vitalis been in here today? I haven’t seen him.”

“...apologies, I have not.”

“...Y’know, I met a guy wayyyyyyyyy taller than you recently. Dude was like, 9 foot something. He was cool.”

“...very interesting mr Clydesgod.”

“...”

“...”

“...So how’s your lady friend Nessa then?”

Mattias froze, almost dropping his glass as a light pink hue appeared on his face. He looked over at Richard, his calm demeanour ceasing to exist.

“We-She is NOT my lady friend,” He replied, his accent finally revealing itself. He sounded Eastern European, from the Baltics if Richard remembered correctly. “She is just a customer who visits and runs her mouth a bit. She pays well, unlike you.”

“By running her mouth do you mean she’s helping you out?~ Common is she under there or somethin’?” Richard asked, attempting to lean over to view under the bar until Mattias pushed Richard’s shoulders back down, firmly onto the stool.

“You little...ugh, why do you always have to come here and act like such a twerp? I’ve dealt with annoying teens before but you’re somehow just, worse.” Mattias went back to cleaning his glass, placing it down below by simply squatting.

“It’s just nice to hear your voice after all. It’s so deep, no wonder the ladies go CRAZY for it.” He laughed, taking a rather bigger swig this time. “Man. Why do you gotta be so scared of milfs all the time?”

“Stop. Saying. That damn word!” The purple demon replied, gritting his teeth as he resisted the urge to throw a glass at him. “It’s not my fault people come here to pay attention to me! I’m only here to provide drinks and let the customers have their own fun. Not to get dragged into dates. Not like I can go on any. Work takes too much time.”

Richard scoffed.

“Hire someone then. Go get, like, 2 bartenders, so you can go out on the town and score some points with the hot older ladies,” He took another big swig, almost finishing his drink already. “What are you scared of anyway? Most ladies here seem to take a shine to you anyway, they leave the most tips!”

“It’s...complicated you lollakas,” He replied, turning around to make sure all the spirits and hard liquors were well organized. “I’ve got the bar to manage, little Uno to feed, taxes to do, myself to feed, a bunch of other stuff I cannot care less for. I don’t have enough time to get into a silly little relationship at the current moment.”

“...At the current moment?~” Richard asked, an eyebrow rising. Mattias’ blush simply grew bigger.

“S-shut-you. Ugh. Sa tapad mu,” He muttered, going back to organizing everything before he closes up. He looked behind, seeing Richard finishing his glass. “Don’t bother asking for another, you need to pay for this week and, besides, I’m closing up for the night.”

“Why’d you think I came then?” Richard replied, reaching behind and taking out a wallet. He rummaged around for a bit, taking out quite a lot of money and holding it out towards him. Mattias gave Richard a strange look, but took the money anyway. He counted it all, flicking through each note rapidly and taking a mental note of the total sum. Once worked out, he began to take some of the notes away.

“Hey, keep the change,” Richard replied, getting off of the stool and stretching. “Oof, that was a fine glass. I’ll see you around tomorrow Matti.” He started to walk off, waving behind at his favourite barkeep.

Mattias said nothing, simply staring and huffing before moving to the register and depositing the cash inside of it. There went his favorite patron. Well, maybe not his most favourite. There was Nessa-

He shook his head, taking Richard’s glass and placing it into a glass washer nearby. He checked his watch, it was Uno’s feeding time in a bit. Poor tortoise. He wondered if he could even realize how much work he did so the poor creature wouldn’t starve.

He sighed, turning on the glass washer and stretching his arms to the sides as to not knock anything over.

...Maybe he’d give Nessa a call tonight...

[themirthfulroadrunners]

D.C. - His and Hers

Debbie’s View of Planet D.C. & Beyond:

Unlike Sparky, (read below) I am not steeped in the subjects of history and politics. When in a so dedicated place, I tend to look for other things that attract my interest, and in many cases, find bits to point and laugh at.

 As Wayne describes below, our visit to the nation’s capital/capitol was done in very unique societal circumstances which was actually fine and dandy with moi. I loved the fact that most tourists chose to stay away and await a future time when normality returns, if there even is so much as a hope for such. The fact that we could drive our car safely and efficiently into and around the Mecca of Democracy and Tourist Magnet thrilled me.

 We did, however, take a ride on the city’s Metro train. At one point, we were the only riders in our particular car. Zounds! The train was clean and felt very safe, affording us several minutes to watch our fellow man going through the paces of what was likely an ordinary day in the life (I read the news today, oh boy …). I didn’t capture any funny or blog-worthy vignettes from these rides but low-drama is desirable on subways anyway, especially in these politically-charged times.

 East Coast food disappointed both of us. Maybe we merely chose wrongly, but we awarded zero 5 star reviews. In the category of Grossest Thing EVER there is Scrapple. Feeling a bit uncharacteristically adventurous, Wayne ordered some with his breakfast at an Annapolis, MD deli (Chick & Ruth’s Delly). Myself, apparently osmosing some of the above-mentioned adventurousness, tasted one bite. My taste buds immediately sounded an alarm, sorta like the one that the robot in Lost in Space blared continuously to Will Robinson: WARNING!! DANGER!! Every part of my being wanted the hateful stuff REMOVED FROM THE AREA IMMEDIATELY. A gag SO wanted to happen, but I comported myself as a lady should when in public and the alien substance safely went down the correct cavity, followed by a long gulp of water. You’ll have to Google scrapple’s recipe, but when asked, our waitress replied that it is made from “pig.” Most everything else I tasted in this region was bland, but that beats gag-worthy, huh?

The offensive scrapple is the brown block on the upper plate. Closer plate is a ginormous crab cake.

Annapolis was, um, Claustrophobia Central, at least to me. Beautiful and historic houses, but streets about 6 inches wide with parking on BOTH SIDES had me holding my breath to somehow magically shrink our Ford Edge to Matchbox Car size in order to squeeeeeeeze through. Streets everywhere, going every which way. They’ve never heard of an urban grid, I guess, but these neighborhood houses are roughly 400 years old. Apparently, SUVs were much smaller back then.

 Delaware was a destination one day, just because, why not? We get a kid’s kick out of dipping into nearby states merely to check them off the list. So … we went there, ate lunch, went back to Maryland where we were house sitting. Sorry, nothing of interest that would fill up a paragraph.

 D.C. was heavily guarded, or at least it sure looked that way to me. Very understandable in light of January 6, but access was almost not to be had, though we did see all the pertinent exteriors and the monuments. We did enjoy a boat ride on the Potomac, past the infamous Watergate Building and a couple more sites of interest to politics/history junkies, blah blah. Not technically D.C. but we walked a bit in Arlington National Cemetery. Barricades kept us from actually seeing JFK’s grave, but we did see the eternal flame, which is kinda the bigger icon, at least to this Baby Boomer.

The Watergate Office Building

Robert E Lee’s home in the background.

Our housesit was in a tiny burg on the west coast of the Chesapeake Bay. It is very low there, just plain swampy in some areas. We had one unseasonably warm day before a storm when the humidity rivaled anything I’ve felt in Arkansas. The trees in the region are rather unimpressive in circumference, but grow to towering heights, making me fear a bit for their sturdiness during a very windy day/night. Maybe they’re slender but elastic; there was no news of massive tree loss afterwards.

That’s it for me, folks. Take it away Sparky …

 Wayne’s take on Washington D.C. –

           This was my third trip to D.C., and somewhat disappointing in that our visit was while Covid19 limits were still in place, and it followed the January 6 insurrection.

      We were restricted not only from visiting and touring the Capitol, but even from getting close enough to have truly said we were there. Thank you very much you “Big Lie’ Insurrectionists.

I can’t/won’t say that I’m proud to be an American because after all, that is just a matter of the fortunes of birth. I could just as well have been born to anyone else, anywhere else on the planet. I have done nothing American to be proud of, even if pride was a notable quality. I have voted, and I have honorably served in the United States military. So there is that.

           The Capitol building is where our elected representatives decide whether to go to war, or not, who does, or does not, get healthcare protections, who pays taxes, and who does not, whether we protect the environment, or not. This is where our representatives determine who won our democratically elected president. And thanks to the battle of January 6, democracy prevailed over autocracy. The flag above the Capitol is the one that all flags flown from every Post Office to every front porch represents. This is the flag of our nation. This is the flag of America.

           The White House has been the home of our elected leader for well over two hundred years, the virtual leader of the free world for a century. It was burned up in 1814 by the soldiers of England, our present greatest ally. Residents of the White House have ranged from the awe-inspiring to the heinous. Andrew Jackson defied the Supreme Court, refusing to comply with their ruling on the Cherokee Indians, and then compelled all Indians to forfeit their lands, despite legal treaties and in many cases total adoption of the American culture, and to remove themselves to the Oklahoma Territory. Other presidents started wars while yet others saved our country, and even the world with military involvements. Our president(s) live/lived here.

           We toured all the memorials – memorials to our national heroes, and to the servicemen who fought and died in our wars. I expect most of our true heroes remain unsung. Some might say that too many of our infamous remain unhung.

Forrest Gump’s spot

Supreme Court Building          

America Bless God

[craftyassqueen]

Grow and Glow pt 1

Summary: Talia wakes up one morning and remembers a certain conversation she had with Muriel after defeating Lucio and the Devil. What she doesn’t know is what he has planned for her. 

Word Count: 1,444

Warning: none

“Mi oso” means my bear  

Talia woke up and couldn’t help but smile, Muriel was fast asleep right next to her. He was here with her, after all this time he was still here. It had been 13 months since the whole showdown with Lucio and the Devil and they had won. The city was growing and glowing  thanks to Nadia. Vesuvia was on the road to becoming one of the most amazing places on the continent to live. The flooded district was in need of a new nickname, Nadia was completely transforming it and it was becoming one of the most art filled places in the city. Granted they still had a long way to go but it still had come a long way. So much has changed in Vesuvia and change had even found its way into her and Asra’s shop. Muriel was next to her and Inanna was asleep on her bed in the corner. Muriel has sorta moved in, the first thing that Muriel brought over was a bed for Inanna. Granted she had a big bed but Inanna on the bed as well… they tried that the first night and no one got any sleep. 

She looked around her room and noticed the change in it. Muriel had some of his clothes and little trinkets he would make. The room smelled of the myrrh, the windowsill had forget-me-not and red tulips laid on them, on the dresser were some lemons and oranges, his cloak was next hers and there were tapestry from Khamglai’s hut on the wall. In short, the room was packed. The upstairs of the shop was full to bursting, they needed a bigger place. She had been asking Muriel about his hut but he just kept saying “it’s not done”. She decided to give him time, whatever he was doing. As she looked at her sleeping mountain man she thought back on the last time she was in his hut.

They had gotten back to his hut once the big showdown with the devil was done and they somehow managed to win. It had been a week and she made good on her word and they both crawled into his bed and went to bed. A week long nap was the only thing that they wanted to do and… now that the week was over, Talia wanted to ask him some questions. The problem was she couldn't bring herself to wake him up, after all she had woken up next to her mountain man. She was on her side facing him, her hands were on his chest, she was tucked in tight wrapped in his arms, she wouldn’t have wanted to wake up any other way. His head was tilted downward towards her like he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She couldn’t help but just look at him and admire how far he had come. He had grown so much, he no longer was the man she found in the forest who was haunted by his past, but a man who forgave himself for his past and was willing to fight alongside those who he loved. 

She knew they needed to have a talk now that everything was over in regards to their future. She just didn’t know how to approach it, yes he did come a long way but just because you can now walk doesn't mean you can take off in a sprint. She just didn’t know how to ap-

“Stop thinking so much.” Muriel grumbled with his voice laced with sleep. “I can hear your brain thinking too much.”  she looked at him and he still had his eye’s shut. If he hadn’t said anything she would think he was still asleep. Talia took a deep breath and decided to jump off the cliff.

“Muriel, can we talk… about us and what… we are I guess.” She took a look back up at Muriel and he had his confused look on his face, along with hint of blush. He didn’t say anything for a while, he just sorta looked at the wall. Talia hadn’t heard him say anything for a while she had to look back up at him to see if he went to sleep… well he hadn’t… he was still looking at the wall. Alright, she needed to take the lead on this one, he did come far but there were some things she needed to take charge… after all he may be large but he most definitely wasn’t in charge. 

“I want to stay with you Muriel. I don’t want my life to go back to the way it was without you. You’ve become someone rather important to me and…” she didn’t know what else to say… well she did but she didn’t want to freak him out too much with how she felt. She had such a strong feeling for him, she had witnessed how much he had grown and she didn’t want to leave him. “Living together… I would like that.” Muriel replied after a while. Inanna poked her up and looked at them both and gave a great huff. 

“Yes, Nanna, you’re coming too.” Muriel grumbled out. Apparently satisfied with that answer she went back to sleep. She looked at Muriel and smiled, she may not have gotten the answer to her question, but she got an answer she didn’t know she needed. The next day, Muriel and Talia moved some of his stuff into the shop.

That was some time ago and since Muriel had somewhat moved in they had fallen into a little routine. When Talia went to open the shop, Muriel and sometimes Inanna would go into the forest and return before the sun went down. He was up to something, that much she knew, whenever Inanna would stay behind she would have a look in her eye. Talia couldn’t understand her but she knew that look, it was the look of someone having a secret. It didn’t help that she knew Asra knew what was going on; she even had a hunch that Nadia knew. 

She looked at her mountain man and pressed a kiss to his forehead, each of his eye lids, and then kissed his lips. 

“I have to get up mi oso, Asra is spending the day with Nadia so I need to open the shop.” She made a move to get up only for it to be halted but two massive arms coming around her and pulling back to bed. She landed on top of Muriel's chest, his arms were wrapped around her waist and he was holding her tightly. This was sorta of their morning routine, always with a massive hug and wait for it..

“Good morning” he said in his morning voice, then kissed her forehead. One more hug and… yep Inanna was now awake and hoped on the bed. Talia had to let out a giggle, having a massive wolf on the bed was quite a sight. She wished she could stay in bed all day but alas, she had work to do. Talia gave Muriel one last kiss and untangled herself from him. Moving down the bed she gave Inanna a massive hug and kissed the wolf's nose. Muriel grumbled and got up as well, leaving Inanna to stretch out on the bed so she could go back to sleep. Talia and Muriel went about getting dressed and ready for the day. As Talia went to the bathroom to finish putting up her hair, Muriel went into the kitchen to make breakfast. Once she was done and walked into the kitchen and a slow smile spread across her face. Muriel was standing by the stove, and Inanna had decided to get us for the day and was sitting by the window. She walked up behind Muriel and wrapped her arms around him and laid her head against his back. 

“Do you know if you might be able to close the shop early today?” he asked in a quiet voice.  The question took Talia by surprise, he had never asked her to close the shop early. 

“I might be able to, it depends on how busy I get.” Talia saw an opportunity to tease him. “Why Muri, got a hot date planned for tonight.” She looked at him with a grin on her face, however, when she heard his reply it was her turn to blush.

“Maybe.” who knew one word could turn her into a blushing mess. He looked back over his shoulder at her and raised his eyebrow. Being a blushing mess she turned and buried her face in his back and heard him chuckle at her.

[lavendersoft]

Until I met you.

3/?

-Street Fighter! Jimin x Reader

Synopsis: While on a date for their 2nd anniversary, Jimin loses Yoongi while being attacked in an alleyway by a robber. Yoongi sacrificed himself for his lover and Jimin could never forgive himself for not being able to do the same. The survivor’s guilt ate away at him over the months and it definitely didn’t help that he saw Yoongi’s face everywhere. In mirrors, dreams, large crowds, on trains, and even when he closed his eyes. Although, Jimin found a way to cope. He began a rigorous training schedule. Boxing, self-defense classes, Tae Kwon Do, he even started street fighting and got caught up with bad people. Anything and everything. His hands would bleed, his muscles would ache, his bones would break. Jimin was offered multiple full scholarships to prestigious martial arts schools for his talent, all of which Jimin turned down. He didn’t want to make a career out of this, he just didn’t want to be haunted by his dead fiancé. The only time Yoongi wouldn’t haunt every moment of Jimin’s life was when he’s training as if Yoongi is saying “I won’t rest, nor will I let you rest until you’re stronger.” Jimin will never lose anyone that he loves again.

Everything felt like a downward spiral,

until he met you.

Warnings: (There’s a lot- and it’s kinda dark, be warned) PTSD, implied schizophrenia (sorta? take that with a grain of salt), PTSD induced delusions/hallucinations, depression, paranoia, night terrors, character death, major angst, unhealthy coping mechanisms, masochism(?), alcoholism, minor gore, mention of drug abuse, mention of blood, mention of sexual assault/ harassment, mention of asylums, profanity, Jimin goes through one hell of a mental breakdown.

Author’s notes: lil fluffy :)

Jimin doesn’t visit Yoongi’s grave.

He hasn’t in a while, at least. He has seen Yoongi far too often since his death, actually. And he decided long ago that visiting graves only bring him grief and sorrow, not solace like most people.

Something was different this morning; off. Yoongi wasn't lurking. He wasn't staring at Jimin in the shadows or murmuring in Jimin’s ear. He’s just... gone.

But that doesn't stop Jimin from drinking his guilt away like he usually does. If he's being honest with himself, Jimin probably wouldn't be able to cope without his daily dose of alcohol.

He could just picture Hoseok and Jin laughing at him if they were here. They were always the big drinkers of the group. Jimin hardly drank and when he did, he’d get drunk faster than the rest. The memory brings Jimin no joy, knowing what came of everyone. In fact, he’d rather not remember.

The useless alarm clock rings beside Jimin’s bed. The machine never gets the chance to actually wake him up since he’s awake before dawn every morning due to the nightmares.

Hm. Maybe I should call Dr. Bang?

As he reaches over to dial his therapist’s number, her name pops up instead.

Y/n: I had a lot of fun last night, minus the weird guy in the alley lol

Jimin wonders how she could dilute such a pig to just a “weird guy” but he decided not to bring it up.

Jimin: me too. 

Send.

What? That’s it? Come on.

Jimin: um so if you ever want to do-

Delete.

Jimin: cool. so do u wanna see a-

Delete.

Flirting is a lot harder than Jimin remembers. He sighs heavily and tosses his phone down, opting to shower away his self-frustration. Right when he starts rinsing and lathering, however, an idea lights up his mind.

Of course.

A few hours later he is standing outside of his old dance studio, the one he’d go frequently with Yoongi on their days off work.

He hasn’t been here in months. Nevertheless, this place hasn't changed a bit. This place was their own little private piece of paradise. It was a cozy, secluded building on the outskirts of the city, but it had the best view at any time of day. Jimin had the best memories here. Memories of his whole friend group coming and visiting him while he danced. Hoseok always had the best advice for him and they’d end up dancing together. 

Jimin stares at the oak door, then glances at the key in his hand. He contemplates if he is even ready to be back in there. But she’s going to be here soon. He’d asked her if she wanted to use his old studio to practice dancing and had given her the address. So, he bites his lip and turns the knob.

The angelic light that flows in from the window is the first thing he notices when he walks in. The room looks so much more spacious than he remembers, probably because he was never in here alone. The huge, wall-length mirror expands further than he remembered. You’d think that he’d still remember every detail of this room, being that he was here close to every day. But he doesn't. These last nine months have hurt more than his heart. I can’t remember worth a damn nowadays.

He closes his eyes and stands in the middle of the room, soaking in the sunlight, breathing in the familiar smell of the walls and floor. This building always had such a distinct smell. You’d probably call him crazy if he said he could just faintly hear the laughter that always filled this place. There was never a bad situation that happened here. It was untainted with the strife and stress of their daily lives. All of their struggles and grievances, they were dropped at the door.

They came here to forget. They came here because it was their haven. A pure haven. 

And now he’s sharing it with you.

Also, he thinks it could use a good dusting. So, he gets to work.

But he’s soon interrupted by one of those endlessly annoying, nagging thoughts that pop into his head as he sprays down the mirror with Windex.

I’m expecting too much. I don’t even know her. She doesn’t even know me. And I’m letting her into my most sacred place. It’s just too fast. It’s gonna scare her. 

He lifts his gaze and stares at himself in the foggy mirror for the first time in ages.

As if I could scare her any more than I have. I’ve practically beat the life out of a man on our first date. 

But she’s still coming. She’s still coming.

He tears his eyes away from the man lingering in front of him to get back to work.

After an hour of dusting, scrubbing, and polishing, the studio looked exactly how he left it the last time. Then, a knock at the door startles him. He’s not used to anyone knocking on the studio door, it was always open to his friends.

He jogs overhastily to let her in.

The moment the door reveals her, her eyes light up in awe.

“Wow! It’s huge!” She blushes when she realizes she hasn't even greeted him yet. 

“Uh, I mean good morning.” She scratches her head awkwardly. 

“Morning.” His reply seems bland compared to all the work he’d just put into cleaning the place up as to not embarrass himself... and possibly impress her. He’d never admit that, though.

“It’s so much bigger than the one I practice in! And it has natural light!” She saunters over the window, pulling open the curtain entirely. She freezes.

“Mine doesn't even have windows! And yours has-”

“Cool, huh?” He chuckles. She really is cute.

“A full view of the city? It’s more than cool, it’s like a dancers dream!”

It was. Once.

“So, do you like.. own it?” She asks the question as if it would offend him in some way.

“Sort of.”

It was Yoongi’s first gift to Jimin, before they’d even started dating. It was by far the greatest gift he’d ever received.

“I co-own it.”

“Ah.” She nods, dropping the subject entirely. “Oh, hey, a radio!”

She’s so enthusiastic about everything. Jimin smirks.

“Yeah. I’m not sure if it still work-” He cut off by a stream of soft music filling the room. He remembers this song well. It’s the last song he’d been listening to that night, before-

“Oh, I love this song.” She looks over her shoulder with a look that almost resembled mischief. “Wanna dance..?”

“Oh... uh.. I don’t know. I’m probably kind of rusty.”

“Please?” Oh, this could get dangerous. It’s really hard to say no to her.

“Okay, but don't laugh.”

“Promise.” She holds out her pinky finger, waiting for him to lock his with her own. He does so, gladly.

Take my hand.

She places her hand in his. He wraps his hand lightly around her waist.

Take my whole life, too.

They fumble a bit, awkwardly stepping on each other’s toes as if they weren't both trained professionals.

For I can't help falling in love with you.

She finds her balance, he finds his rhythm.

Like a river flows, surely to the sea. Darling, so it goes-

They glide over the dance floor like water.

Some things are meant to be.

The chorus repeats once more. He looks into her eyes now, instead of at his feet. She has a smile on her face that says she hasn't a care in the world at the moment.

I can't help falling in love with you...

The music fades and Jimin curses the song for starting in the middle instead of the beginning. He wants longer with her.

The next song starts and it’s a more upbeat one. One he made a choreography to. He’s almost tempted to show her before-

She already dancing. The exact same dance he created. He stands in shock. Every move, every step, everything is smooth and right on beat.  But how did she know?

He struggles to find the words to ask. Instead, he slowly starts to dance along with her. The look of confusion that crosses her face when she glances in the mirror and spots him following along with her perfectly is priceless. She falters for just a brief seconds before turning around and facing him, still hitting each beat. 

He smirks at her when the song finishes, she at a loss for words.

“How did you..? Where did you learn that?”

“Learn? I didn't learn it. I created it.” A stark silence enters the room.

“I’m sorry, what?” She’s obviously having a hard time processing.

“I made it.”

“But.. my dance teacher said it was made by some prodigy, like, years ago.”

He holds up his index finger, gesturing to himself. “That’d be me.”

“Stop playing with me. There’s no way... I mean-”

And so the afternoon went on. They discussed their dreams, their hopes, where they came from, favorite places to visit. 

Somewhere in between talking about her family home, she offered to order take out. He obliged and paid before she could oppose it. He felt terrible that they didn't have a proper place to eat- not even chairs. He’d pulled out an old blanket from the storage closet and made a makeshift picnic. He’d hoped to God that she didn't notice the faint musty odor from being in storage for so long. If she did, she didn't say anything.

 When they continued to talk, they even found out that they attended the same dance school when they were both beginners, not at the same time though. He has started dance much sooner in life than she.

He was called a prodigy, or so everyone told him. He was meant to be something. Something bigger than what he turned into.

“Hey. Wanna see something cool?” He asks when he notices the light in the room beginning to turn a deep gold, indicating the sun was setting. The really talked all day, huh?

“Always.”

He takes her hand and leads her into the hallway, all the way to end. They reach a door and he reaches up the top of the door frame to search for the key. After successfully unlocking it, the door opened to reveal an old, and he will admit, slightly sketching looking staircase. To his surprise, she enters without fear. She barely even waits for him.

Once they reach the top he opens the door and then stands out of her way, not wanting to block to the view. And he also wanted to make sure he could see her reaction.

There’s a silence that falls between them as she takes in the view of the city. Jimin inwardly praises himself for knowing all the best times of day to come to the roof, 6:22 pm sharp is one of those times. The world around them glows with golden, orange, and red light. The sun looks as if it’s searing the city, completely ablaze.

“Wow.” She takes in the sight of the tall shadows belonging to the buildings and trees as they grow even longer. 

Wise men say only fools rush in.

[justmewoo]

Tony's Big Brother [ Male Reader x Avengers] A Wish.

A/N: This idea came to me last night and I had to write it out. This story is my first time writing one of avengers and my grammar sucks cause english isnt my first language so if people would like me to continue it please let me know :)

____________________________________

CHAPTER ONE:

I was always my father's favorite son until his last breath, after all, I was the oldest. But did I enjoy that feeling of growing up? The answer is no, I did not enjoy being my father's favorite son because it hurt my younger brother Tony.

The fact he always compared us to one another and saying how Tony should be more like me, made my blood boil every time he would do that in front of everybody. Growing up, the distance grew between us making it difficult to communicate with one another. 

Whenever I wanted to spend time with him, he would move or avoid me. He didn't want to play or do anything with me. Mom tried talking with him saying how "we are siblings and need to get along." But that phrase went in one ear and out the other, Tony simply did not care what so ever. 

At six years old I made a promise to myself that I would protect Tony from the moment he was born. 

I was born in New York City 1964. I was told by my mother that father was happy and excited about being a father. My name was chosen by him as [Male Name] Howard Stark. So you can say that's another reason why Tony could never like me. I had grown up as an only child, it was a lot of fun because I truly enjoyed all of his inventions and how he got to meet Captain America. Also watching war documentaries, something that Tony didn't like much. 

We also had a butler named Jarvis, he always spent a lot of time with my brother. He was a lot closer to him than our father but he was more of a father figure to him than our own dad. When I was at the age of 15 my father would take the both of us to Stark Industries to know about the family business. But I just couldn't really find interest in the industry, my thing was learning how to build cars. Which also caused me a few problems with him. 

When I hit my last year of high school I had made it into a top university where they would teach you to learn everything about Automotive Tech and Car. Yet, the second I got the scholarship, my father talked with the school informing them that I was going to stick to the "family business" and that I didn't need to learn any other thing besides the Stark Industries. 

My mother was a very caring and loving woman if it wasn't for her I had no idea how we three would have survived. She was the opposite of my father and I only wish she would have lived a bit longer. It was my fault that both my mother and father died in that car accident. 

We had gotten into a bit of an argument that night on December 16, 1991. It was my fault if only I hadn't had been so weak then maybe they would have still been alive. That night we were in the car, I had joined boot camp to enlist into the military but they both didn't want me going so they picked me up and were taking me home. But when we were on our way there, a motorcycle had been following us for the last five minutes until it cornered us, causing my father to crash the car in the middle of the road. A guy wearing black clothing and long raven hair who had a long silver metal like arm opened my father's door throwing him on to the ground and beating him to death...he then banged the back of his head against the car killing him in an instant. "Howard" my mother yelled in a low voice with pain. "You bastard!" I yelled in anger. My mother was seriously injured and couldn't move. I had to get her out of the car but I wasn’t able to move my body felt like it was paralyzed by the pain I felt. "Don't worry m-mom I will get you out of here." I looked down at my left thigh to see I had a few pieces of glass stuck into my skin that was creating a small puddle of blood. I clenched my fist in anger and made an attempt at moving my body but I had to little no avail. 

I looked at the long raven man, he then began to move towards my mother's side and slowly grabbed her by the neck suffocating her. I closed my eyes trying not to picture her pain but it became impossible. Hearing her painful screams made me feel weak, she gasping for air until there were no more sounds. She was dead.

I bit my tongue trying to open the door, after much push and trying to swallow the screams of pain that wanted to erupt, I had opened it grabbing his attention. The man’s eyes then looked in mine, even with the small lamp post that was illuminating the street, it wasn’t enough to reach his eyes. It made my body freeze from just his stare alone- I dragged myself on to the ground, landing on my face. The pieces of glass were going in deeper making the small pool of blood to become bigger.

I tried getting up to fight him but he was too strong. He had managed to grab me from my back and throw me against the car. My bones then made a cracking sound with every hit I received. By the time he was gone, I had fallen unconscious. My body was covered in blood and cuts along with dirt. But to this day watching my parents being murdered in front of me is something I will never forget. All I could think about that night was Tony and the fear of dying.

But when I had opened my eyes it wasn't 1991 anymore. Somehow the world around me looked differently. Nothing looked like how I knew it used to be instead everything looked advanced. When I woke up I was in what seemed to be a room, with walls painted light green along with picture frames of a young woman with brown hair and blue eyes wearing a summer dress. Behind her was a tall male who seemed to be around my age and had all my features his hands where wrapped around her. My eyes widen when I noticed that guy was me and she was pregnant. The rest of the picture frames were of the two of us.

There was a picture of us on our wedding day. In the middle of the wall were about nine brown pictures that seemed to be a baby? There ultrasound pictures and if they are nine that could only mean that.... 

Crying sounds could be heard coming from inside the next room. I gulped when I heard the sounds of footsteps coming to this room. I looked down at myself to realize I wasn't wearing the same clothes anymore but that also sorta freaked me out. But I failed to notice the wedding ring on my left hand. Anyway, the doorknob twisted and opened revealing the girl from the picture holding a pink blanket and the crying noises were coming from that. 

"I'm sorry did she wake you up. Maria hasn't stopped crying all morning since you last put her to sleep I, think she wants her daddy." She said walking around the bed and over to me, then handed me the baby girl. She opened her eyes and those brown eyes stared back at me, she stopped whimpering. 'She has my mother's name.' I thought inside my head. 

The baby well Maria had some of her features but definitely had my mother's eyes. I rocked her with my arms back and forth carefully. "She's definitely daddy's girl. Told you she missed you its such a shame you have to go back to work at the office Mr. President of [Last Name] Cars." 

I looked at her confused. 'Who's [Last Name] is that?"

I continued to stare down at her as she slowly closed her eyes falling into a deep sleep. The woman came closer to me and took the baby in her arms but not before planting a kiss on my cheek. She got up from the bed and exited the room leaving me alone in my own thoughts. "What the hell is going on here? Who is she and where am I? I need to get out of here." I stood up from the bed quickly exiting the room without making a sound. I went down the stairs only to bump right into her.

"I’m sorry I didn’t see you." I apologized grabbing her gently from her wrist. She suddenly hugged my side and wrapped her arms around my waist burying her face into my chest. I didn't hug her back and thats when I noticed the ring on my left hand. I just stood there awkwardly, "Thank you for changing [Male Reader] it means a lot now that we have our daughter. I just hope your parents love her as much as we do. Speaking of them, they called saying they might come to visit for Christmas next week." 

I moved away to the side turning around taking a deep breath. I felt like my head was going to explode. None of this is making any sense at all. First I'm on the ground dying next to my parents and suddenly I wake up to a home in a different year with a wife and daughter and now my parents are alive. And who the heck is [Last Name] Car thing. I shook my head pinching myself hoping to wake up. 

"None of this is making sense." I murmured. 

"Are you alright [Male Name] why are you pinching yourself." She asked walking near me placing her hand on my shoulder. "Are you remembering the accident. The doctor did say some things wouldn't make any sense and that you might be confused." 

An accident? The only way of knowing what's going on is if she explains it to me. I clear my throat. "Yea, can.... can you explain to me." I asked looking into her eyes. 

"It was about a month ago when you got into a car accident when you were operating a new invention for a car. The brakes weren't functioning well so you crashed against another car. The doctor said it might had caused an impact in your head and memory." I shook my head. That can't be possible I suddenly looked around the living room looking for a date. 

"What day is it today? What year are we in?" I asked as she ran a hand over my cheek looking at me with concerned eyes.

"It's December 17, 2015 hun don't you remember it's almost going to be christmas." She said planting a kiss on my lips, spinning around and taking my hand in hers guiding me to the other side of the living room to see a big Christmas tree in the corner with lights and gifts under the tree. 'It's almost Christmas?' She guided me to another side of the room to see more pictures with tons of people. 

The people in the picture frames looked nothing like me. A man who seems to be in his late fourthies was standing next to a lady who appeared to be his wife because they where kissing each other. Next to them was me and a girl who looked older than me probably in her thirties. She had two kids and a guy standing with her. "Are these my parents?" I asked her. Nodding her head. 

"Yes there your parents and sister along with your brother in law and two kids. Alice is your mother, Stuart is your father, Jane is your sister, Alex is your brother in law and the two kids are Anthony and Alexandra. And in case you forgot your wife's name which is me my name's Jennifer." She smiled at me. 

"Right... I remember now thank you for telling me their names and yours. I guess I still have some recovering to do." I smiled at her acting normal but in the inside I was still freaking out.

"Thats what am here for to help you recover. Now that you know all the information do you think we can get ready to go out and shop for my parent's gifts?" 

I smiled gently at her nodding and wrapped my arms around her placing my head on top of hers. 'Tony where are you.' was the only thought that came crossed my mind.

[pencilsdgr]

A queen should always look her best.

Story time, if you dare. From the perspective of the one on the left.

I was up late, cleaning my gun while I waited for the scouts to get back. It’s been dark at the warehouse ever since the riots caused the power to go out. Life in Los Angeles has gone to total shit because of them, and it’s so bad that the military’s quarantined the city. The whole place has been cut up to Hell with the gangs, and they can be classified into three groups: The Lapdogs, the ones who used to be with the police and fire department and all that, we’re on good grounds with them because we used to control the city together; the Extremists, they furiously push their causes like anarchy and communism, hate the guts out of everyone except the press; and then there’s us, who want nothing to do with this and just want to leave. 

The queen’s been working out our next move to get us out of this shithole, but the big thing that’s been stumping her is the military. We need to make our move soon, we’ve been dropping in numbers to the extremists, and it’s only a matter of time before they come after our money and weapons. 

I hear footsteps approach the door. They stop just in front of it and I wait for their knock.

“Al.”

That wasn’t the knock. Already this is shady as fuck. I load my gun and step up to the door.

“What?”

“Open de door.”

“You know the drill.”

“Cobe ong, I vorgot, shust open de door.”

Things have been stressful, especially for the scouts. I still don’t trust him, though. I open the door a crack and point right at his chest. It is one of our scouts, but he seems on edge. I lower my gun slightly and ask him what’s up.

“Dey broke bove my armsh and pulled out a bunge of teet. Dey would had godden my eyesh iv I hadn’t-”

He’s interrupted by the sound of a car loudly starting up. Light floods the area, and a car roars right up to us. I jump out of the way, but the poor kid is smashed between the car and the door. It keeps going and rams right into a concrete pillar. The raid’s started.

I shoot my gun a couple times to make sure everyone’s awake, and start yelling to get Khloe out of here.

The horse and the pig get Khloe in her car. Khloe doesn’t go in without a fight first, though. I’m her personal bodyguard, so I pile into the car too. We speed off with about half a million dollars, mine and Khloe’s guns, and the pig’s first aid kit.

Khloe immediately starts yelling.

“Oi, why are we goin’?”

“That was a raid. We need to get you to safety.”

“And leave the rest of ‘em to die? I don’t look like some Marie Antoinette, do I?”

“We didn’t have time to pile everyone in, and we were outnumbered as it was. You’d certainly be dead by now.”

“Well, where are we going?”

“That’s up to you, you’re the queen.”

Khloe thinks for a minute.

“What did you learn from the scouts?”

“That the extremists are complete sadists. One scout made it back. They tortured him until he led them to the warehouse, and now he’s a splash of red paint on a car’s hood.”

“Shit. Take me down the blue line. You have a subway map, right?”

“I don’t-”

“I have one on my phone. Give me the charger,” the horse impedes. He plugs in his phone and we continue on the road.

We’re going through Compton as a shadowy figure jumps up from behind a car and starts shooting at us. I try to dodge some of the fire, but end up flipping our car on its side. The loon is still shooting, so we all hop out and get behind the car. Every one of us takes at least one bullet in the process: Me in the ear, the horse in the side, the pig in an arm and leg, and Khloe loses half of her tail. While the pig starts treating everyone’s wounds, I peek up and start shooting back. To little surprise, so does Khloe. She runs out of bullets and I duck down to reload her gun. All the while, I’m telling her to stay down, until she grabs me by the collar of my jacket.

“Look here, you little shit, I’m not a coward who sits idly by while my colleagues all get shot. You forced me out of the warehouse, but you won’t force me out of this. If I die, then I die. Understand?”

“Aren’t you at least afraid to die?”

“I’d be bleedin’ ice if I wasn’t bleedin’ blood, fuck yeah I’m scared to die. But I’ve experience bein’ shot at, and by the sounds of it, it sounds better to die than be at the hands of these fuckers.”

I sorta fell silent. I went back to reloading her gun as she waited patiently.

About 3 clips in, I hear the sound of screeching tires around a corner, and turn around to see 3 armored trucks speeding toward us. I’ll admit, I broke a cold sweat, until one stopped in front of us and the other two stopped in front of our car. A lapdog jumped out and rushed us into the back of the truck. We complied because, first, we were being shot at, and second, we could trust the lapdogs. We pile in and the truck screeches the fuck outta there.

We graciously thank the lapdog and he gets us to a hospital. All the hospitals are owned by the lapdogs. The one in the truck tells us that they want our help in return for getting us to safety. Khloe’s escorted off to the radiology ward, while we settle in and have our wounds treated. 

Two hours pass, and Khloe regroups with us.

“So what do they want?”

“They want to raid a train station where a bunch of extremists are holed up. It’s right down the block and they’re getting concerned. We’ll be on the ground, they’ll be in the air.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” the horse states.

“Well, they got us out of that pinch. We had no car, dwindling ammo, and all of us were injured. Chin up, they’re leaving now.” Khloe got up and left.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do now,” the pig grunts.

With that, we all make toward the armored trucks. As we’re driving to the station, we see all sorts of gruesome displays all around us. Heads speared on pikes with Hitler-staches drawn on them, hammers and sickles painted in red across buildings, barricades made of barbed wire and corpses, and much, much more. My stomach sinks as we get closer, and it drops when the truck stops. A lapdog opens the door and debriefs us on what exactly we’re doing here. 

“You just have to keep them distracted. We’ll have the helicopter over soon which will provide sniper support.”

We all trudge our way onto the pavement behind the truck. Khloe’s the first one to start moving toward the train station, pointing her rifle everywhere along the way. The pig needs help from me and the horse to get up the stairs, and we’re immediately pinned down by gunfire. We don’t forget our duties, and the horse is the first one to start shooting back. I start shooting, then Khloe jumps in. A couple of the extremists go down, and over the gunfire nobody notices when the helicopter joins in. The extremists start going down much quicker and eventually the whole area’s clear. 

Once the area’s silent aside from the helicopter, we start going in. There really are no more of them. It was only about 10 of them, the Lapdogs couldn’t deal with 10 extremists?

I’m scanning around in one of the trains and a shot rips through the air. Shortly after, Khloe and the horse tackle me getting into the train.

“What’s going on? Are there more?”

“It’s the lapdogs! They killed Hope!” the horse screams.

“They led us into a trap. Us gone is one less gang for them to worry about. This is the most vulnerable we’ve been in a while, this was their chance to get the last of us.”

Fuck, she’s right. There’s only 3 of us and we’re stuck in a corner.

“But they won’t get the last of us. Look, there’s a motorcar.” Khloe points in front of the train. There’s a car on the rails, tethered in several places to the train, “And there’s a map right there, with the brown line highlighted.”

“What are we going to do with this information? They are shooting at us!”

“Al, I know what I’m doing. The helicopter will circle around us, and once it’s behind the train, I’ll go for the car. They’re flying too low to see me. We’ll outrun the helicopter, then ride the brown line to San Diego.”

I’m not in any position to oppose her, so it’s on her now. The helicopter whirs behind us, and Khloe bolts for the door.

“God, save the Queen,” I mutter.

I hear Khloe start the car, and a second later another shot rips through the air as the helicopter passes in front of us again. The train starts rolling, and several more shots blow holes all through the ceiling. The horse and I lay under the seats as the sniper continues raining hell on us. 

We’re crawling across the rails for about two hours, and the helicopter flies away. 

A minute or so after we can’t hear the helicopter, Khloe hobbles back into the train. She’s very clearly injured, and lays on the floor facing me. 

“They got me. Not in the chest, but bloody close,” She reveals the bleeding gash in her shoulder.

“Good lord!” I scream. I scramble for a first aid kit, and find one behind a panel in the wall. I put the bandage on her arm as tight as I can, and we continue down the track. 

We’re stopped by the military, who thankfully have bigger problems than a couple drug dealers, prostitutes, etc. They see that Khloe’s hurt and we’re taken into their care. When they pick up Khloe, there’s a her-shaped pool of blood on the floor, and she looks close to death. As they’re carrying her off the train, her glazed eyes look to me and she gives the weakest thumbs-up I’ve seen. Of course, I follow the guys taking her away-- I am her personal bodyguard after all. 

In about a week, she’s back on her feet. She’s changed her plans: Now that there’s only 3 of us, she can take us in to her friend’s gated community. We set off toward San Antonio Rodriguez.

[wilhelmjfink]

The Great Divide - Ch. 15

A/N: hey!!! to the like 3 of you that follow this story sorry I’ve been MIA lately! I’m sure you saw my last post about being busy as fuck with the track season opening up and springtime means show season and birthday parties at the farm and blah blah blah..... anyways here’s chapter 15 :-) thank you xoxoxo

Previously: Daryl’s blood was boiling. He was furious — he was fucking livid. Even more so because there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it at that moment. The one fucking piece that he had that could lead him to Riley and the one fucking thing that he had that gave him a glimmer of hope that he could reach her again; the one frayed thread that connected him to his girl again that he was grasping onto for dear life... was laying dead at his fucking feet.

“Ya gotta be quick to find people’s weakness. Everybody’s got one — ya just need to know what you’re looking for.”

Riley stood still in front of Daryl as he taught her the only way he knew how -- hands on. And so they stood toe to toe in the patchy clearing of the woods, just the two of them and the shadows of the trees the lowering sun casted onto the ground out their feet.

It had taken that conversation and situation for Riley to realize that she’d never told Daryl, or anyone in her group for that matter, about her history of MMA fighting, the years of her own hands-on practice she’d had under her belt. It wasn’t intention or malicious that she’d kept it secret, but rather her defense mechanism, for when she’d first met them she didn’t want them to know all of her weaknesses because Daryl was right — everybody had one.

But after a small run in with some strangers out scavenging for anything to bring back to the Greene farm, he’d decided that she had to learn to defend herself. If not for her sake, for his; for he couldn’t understand why his heart pounded in his chest at the sight of her getting picked up by the dark skinned man twice her size like she was weightless, or why he cursed himself for not being on his game well enough to stop it from happening or just simply protect her. It was an innate desire deep inside of him he hadn’t been able to quell since his group had showed up on the farm some odd weeks ago; and so because he didn’t understand it, it just made him angry.

He stood closely behind her, gently guiding Riley’s body into a fighting stance as she allowed him to move her like an artist crafting his masterpieces in front of him. His touch always sent chills down her spine, and she didn’t understand why. The unspoken bond that had drawn the two immediately together — she didn’t understand that either, but basked in the decision to embrace it instead of question it.

“Now, say I sneak up behind ya, what are ya gonna do?”

Riley shifted slightly, waiting for him to adjust and position himself as if he really was a stranger running up on her and grabbing her from behind. And when his strong arms locked easily around her small frame, all of her memories and experience came rushing back, and she easily offset his balance with a slick bend of her elbow before jabbing it into his stomach -- perhaps harsher than she’d intended. He let go of her with a grunt, clearly blindsided by her response, and was even more shocked when she naturally spun on her heel and brought her right leg up in a well-rehearsed kick, her boot whispering over his by head mere inches, luckily just as she’d intended as opposed to kicking him across the jaw.

Dropping her arms, she smiled to herself proudly regardless of being slightly winded from being out of practice for so long. But Daryl stood up straight, his expression initially radiating anger... but Riley could easily tell there was some sort of admiration and relief underneath it somewhere.

“The hell, woman?” He was still catching his own breath after the impact to his stomach. “Ya said ya ain’t never fought before! Did ya really just hustle me?”

Riley looked away with a nonchalant shrug. “I guess I may have forgot to mention I did MMA for three and a half years. My dad made me do it.”

Daryl was really trying his best to remain stern but his features were betraying him and Riley noticed, feeling her cheeks flush at his expression of his secret praise for her.

“I thought ya said ya played piano, 'n... took some sorta drama or actin’ classes or somethin’ like that.”

His steely blue eyes were watching her closely and she found it incredibly hard to meet them, looking down at the ground with a laugh.

“Well, shit Daryl, where do you think I learned to hustle so well?”

Riley sat cross legged on the concrete floor of the makeshift bedroom, intentionally ignoring the dirty cot behind her to make some sort of stand, while the empty walls provided a perfect element to allow her to zone out and get lost in her thoughts as she racked her mind for any trace of knowledge that she could use to her benefit for that night.

Fuck, she was still sore as all hell from the previous day, her muscles straining just to sit still, only alleviating the slightest bit when she forced herself to stretch them out. It was a welcomed pain -- a sensation that reminded her she was alive which was bittersweet in that she had fought that long, but meant that there was surely more to come.

Her feet were still bandaged loosely and she was so angry that she considered kicking them off just in spite of Lidia, who’d done them in the first place. Her name felt sour inside of her mind, bitter, like an old best friend who’d betrayed her... which, she guessed, essentially what it was, but with more dire consequences. 

How could she have been so fucking stupid? How could she still, after everything she’d put herself through, be so blind to people? This world was not meant for friendships and camaraderies anymore — no, it was meant for enemies and it was survival of the fittest. She’d really thought the way things were before had held her in a dog-eat-dog world? She snorted in derision to herself: if only she could go back in time and show her younger self what it truly meant to survive in a world that was quite literally every-man-for-themselves.

She’d been lucky before — too lucky — when she’d come across her friends way back when. That was still when things were trickling downhill in the beginning of it all, and nobody really wanted to believe that the world and life as they knew it were crumbling beneath their feet. She found some good people then because they were still around. Nowadays, the trustworthy ones were all dead and gone. Because they were too good for this evil world. Daryl, as per usual, had been right all along, and she’d known it from the very start.

If anyone was meant to survive in this hell, it was him. He would be the last man standing.

There was a familiar pang of loss in her heart at the thought of him. Though there was some underlying guilt she couldn’t deny, feeling as though the last day or two she hadn’t really thought about him much — shit, she didn’t have any time to. She’d been on the go since she got there and when she finally did have a moment to sit and breathe, she took advantage of it and slept every second she could. She was exhausted still and she sang quietly to herself.

Carry me all through the night

I am the last light fading

If he was there with her, what would he tell her to do? To stick it out, because that’s just what you do. Every single time she’d ever asked him ‘are you okay?’ she’d gotten the same answer from him: ‘gotta be’.

She wondered what he was doing at that very moment. Was he still trying to look for her? Hell, did he even notice she was gone?

No -- she shook the self-pitying thoughts from her head. No more feeling sorry for herself. No more wallowing in what if’s and should or shouldn’t haves; if dog-eat-dog was what it had come down to, then Riley vowed to be the toughest damn dog that the world has ever seen.

The one good thing that came of her endless waiting in the closet-sized room in silent anticipation was that she god a decent meal for the first time in what felt like ages: a hearty serving of canned vegetables, two freshly baked dinner rolls, and a slab of venison; it was a little bit rare for her liking, but she sure as hell didn’t complain. It was even seasoned.

It also reassured her that somewhere in that filthy, dilapidated city there was sustenance and actual food to consume that wasn’t stale or moldy. There was actual livelihood there. And the more she thought about it, under Slavemasters menacing armor was usually just some tattoos or paint, but not dirt and grime. They were clean, too. There was something to be said for the way they carried themselves: cocky and confident and satisfied, thriving in the new world.

So she’d only seen half of The Divide. The name quickly became ironic as the thought crossed her mind; what a concept it was to enslave hundreds of men, women and even children and forced them into agonizing, exhausting manual labor and pack them into old motel rooms like sardines, feeding them old garbage when there was fresh food being made two, maybe three buildings over. It was the same slavery that tore the country apart hundreds of years ago. But it was so much different.

And at the same time, she couldn’t help but justify it... The Divide was by far the biggest and most successful community around and it was flourishing, only growing bigger by the day. And it wasn’t like the work the slaves were doing was in vain — she’d learned that a majority of the work went towards reinforcing the wall that surrounded the city or crafting weapons and other materials for survival like guns and armor. And that was an absolute necessity nowadays.

The Slavemasters all seemed pretty content. None of them were boney and starving and emaciated. In fact, they seemed to be doing pretty fucking well. And Riley was sure she could get used to that lifestyle. Comfy. Not worrying about safety or sustenance.

She’d already hold herself that she was done feeling sorry for herself. She was going to charge head first into this fight with every intention to win, and she was going to try her damndest. She didn’t care if it killed her, so long as she went down fighting.

“Some day, yer gonna run into the wrong group of people, and I just wanna know that yer prepared.”

Daryl shifted uncomfortably after his admission and Riley turned to look at him with a smile, his words filling her with warmth and butterflies, knowing that it was his way of saying he cared... at least a little bit.

“Well, aren’t you gonna be around to save me when that time comes?”

Her retort was meant to be sarcastic, but neither one of them could deny the hint of seriousness in her voice and especially in his reply:

“I ain’t always gonna be around, Ri.”

The words stung. They even tasted bad coming from his mouth, already feeling as though he’d let her down. It was true, though, and he would never be able to live with himself if something had happened to her that he could’ve prevented. “But... ya know I’m gonna do whatever I can to keep ya safe. Always.”

With a sigh she leaned back into him, feeling his body tense for a moment before he forced himself to relax into her, both of them staring up at the endless starry sky and enjoying their alone time in the guard tower, thankful for the night away from the claustrophobic prison.

“I know, D.”

“...But ya know were still gonna train again in the mornin’.”

She sighed. “I know, D.”

Riley had always humored him, allowing him to drag her out into the wheat fields of the Greene farm and the courtyard of the prison to spar, giving her tips and techniques that had served him well. Most of the physical aspects she’d been solid on — stance, pressure points, form and technique she’d all learned in her few years of professional training as a young girl. But she’d never really stopped consider the mental aspects of it: the clarity and focus that was necessary for defeating her opponent had never been an issue. She’d only ever practiced with her instructor and other classmates and abruptly quit when she’d discovered whatever hindered sobriety as she grew older. And granted Ryan was a grown man with over a decade of training under his belt, he was a skinny guy, and Riley had taken him down in sparring more than once. She had never really stopped and thought of him as an actual threat to her. There were big, mean people out there that she had yet to face.

“Ya gotta learn them real quick — exploit their weaknesses,” Daryl had told her. Take a half of a second to observe your opponent. Which hand was their dominant hand? Did they have any injuries, any limp as they walked? Were they confident, staring you down the whole time, or were they sketchy and afraid of you?

“Most of the big dudes are gonna look real tough, n’ they probably will be, but remember: that’ll make ‘em slow.”

Her head snapped up. “Holy shit,” she whispered to herself at the realization. That was her key to winning that night: sure, Raul was big and burly, but that would make him sluggish in his movements, and it gave him a long way to fall when he went down. That was it. She had a chance — she had a fucking chance. It was small, but shit -- it was there. “Thank you, D.” She closed her eyes, picturing his proud eyes and slight smile when he’d noticed she wasn’t completely helpless when it came to combat. “I won’t let you down, I promise.”