#your one true nemesis is so dear to me ;-;

[finniestoncrane]

Okay hear me out: new goon/right hand interview, with AK Scarecrow. I read your chapter two of "Your One True Nemesis" (a superb story btw) and couldn't help but get curious about how you would portray the interview process with Crane instead of Edward (he's living in my head rent free, I'm so sorry ;_;)

But please don't feel pressured - if you don't feel like it, you absolutely don't have to write it. Your well-being comes first! ^///^🧡🧡

Competency Based

Arkham!Scarecrow x GN!Reader, word count: 2.1k losing my mind a little bit over this 💀 i'm so sorry this is longer than expected lmao but i just... where i knew i would be angry at eddie and his fast-paced bullshit, i knew it'd be a slow, psychological torture with a calm and collected jonathan. also i named it after my nightmare, competency based interviews, because they are what i fear the most. seemed appropriate 🧡🎃 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: interrogation vibes, threats, weird flirting from an old man, discussion of phobias/fears, smoking, sorry there's no smut but i find this intensely fucking erotic so warning for that i guess

A bare bulb hanging from the ceiling flooded the beige room with a dim and sickening yellow light. It would have perhaps felt sterile, clinical, at one point, before the pervading scent of black mould, the source of which outlined the cracked tiles on the floor. Walls which were stained with almost artistic formations of dripping, torn wallpaper so precisely reminiscent of some forgotten, horror B-movie that it might well have been staged. The desk, chipped on the edges, the plastic veneer giving way to the rotting chipboard underneath, scratched and etched on top, sticky underneath. One chair, empty. Metal, rusted at the joints, the screws threatening to turn to dust with a single touch, the other chair, in a similar condition of disrepair and notably uneven on the floor, occupied by you.

And there you sat, nervously twiddling your thumbs, sweat forming on your palms, a metallic taste plaguing your tongue as your heart refused to calm down, to stop thumping in your ears to allow you at least the safety of being able to hear him coming. You were nervous though, and noticeably so. Despite the week you had spent preparing, staring at images of Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow, from newspaper clippings, screenshots from the news, on the websites, pro and against his particular brand of psychology based morals and ethics. Yet you knew, deep down, nothing could prepare you for sitting across from him, staring at him.

There was nowhere else to turn. Bridges were burned. Doors were closed. And Scarecrow’s power, his gauntlet encased grip on Gotham growing tighter every day. You needed this job. Better the devil you know, and everyone knew Scarecrow.

So deep in thought were you, that you hadn’t heard the door open, and you’d mistaken the subtle creak of the leg brace he wore for the movements of your own chair under your uneasy jittering. The buzzing of the light covered his breath, the drip, unplaceable, covered his steps, and not until he was passing your peripheral vision like a nightmare on the edges of your reality were you fully able to comprehend that he existed, in reality, your reality, in an enclosed and possibly inescapable room.

Without speaking to you, Jonathan sat in the chair opposite, the legs scraping along the tiles, your blood chilling in your veins at the sound. Clearly, and without even realising it, you had made a face, disgust or distaste, perhaps discomfort, at the noise. When you opened your eyes, having plunged yourself into darkness to satisfy the need to expunge the curdling sensation from your body, you caught Jonathan’s eyes. As you opened your mouth, willing an apology out, he spoke first.

“My apologies.”

You inhaled deeply through your nose, trying to suppress the shuddering exhale.

Impress him. Without letting him know how much you need this, how much it means to you. You are strong-willed. Brave. Stoic in the face of stress and even fear. You are perfect for him.

Your affirmations calmed you down, but only slightly, and only for a few moments before Crane spoke again.

“Thank you for attending. Your interest in the position, in any position, is greatly valued. I’m familiar with your previous work. It’s… a pleasure… to have you here.”

Admittedly, it wasn’t necessarily surprising that he would be aware of you, of your notoriety. You’d worked for them all, a valuable asset, trustworthy and skilled at what you did. Realistically, it was only a matter of time until your paths crossed. And still, you felt a flutter in your stomach, recognition from Jonathan Crane himself flushing your cheeks a, hopefully, dull pink.

Reaching across the table to initiate the introductions formally, you offered your hand. Your right hand. Only noticing this first mistake, likely to be the first of many, as he flexed his own right hand, the needles on the edge of the gauntlet twitching as the almost luminous orange liquid was jostled around in the vials.

“Perhaps we can leave the formalities for now.”

Offering a weak, polite smile, you put your hands in your lap under the table, nervously wringing them, hoping the motion wasn’t visible in your upper arms. You paused to wonder why he had chosen to wear the gauntlet to the interview, but he interrupted your internal panic.

“Why are you scared?”

“W-why am I… now?”

He nodded, silently, drumming his fingers on the table, the threat of the unholy screech of metal against metal as the needles, rusted and overused, traced over it, light enough that they remained as silent as Jonathan did.

“I’m… b-be… it’s…”

Raising his left hand, holding his palm flat to you, he mercifully let you stop stammering for the right words.

“Please. I only ask because in your time, you’ve come across larger men. Stronger men. Men with tempers far less balanced as mine. Sionis, Dent, Nigma. Each of them with something more dangerous than I have. But…”

He spread his hands apart, displaying himself, open to you.

“…here we are. Shall we get to know each other better?”

“I already know you pretty well.”

“Quite. And while I know of you, I don’t know what’s inside. What lies within you. What could be stirring within the mind of someone so strong, strong enough to associate with men like me, but not strong enough to answer a simple question.”

As you looked at him, eyebrow raising as though pulled by a string attached to his own sense of curiosity, he asked you again.

“Why are you scared?”

Swallowing your fear, suppressing it, the need for protection and stability in employment usurping it’s position at the forefront of your mind, you took a breath and licked at your lips, noticing that Crane leaned in lightly as your tongue flitted out and quickly back in.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“I suppose. But that doesn’t answer the question.”

“Maybe you exude fear. Maybe you’re surrounded by a cloud of toxin, enough to have anyone in a state of lingering, but barely effective, terror.”

“An interesting theory, but not the right answer.”

“You can’t know that.”

You jumped at the sound of his leg brace creaking, a squeak and a loud crack from the hinge.

“Not if you don’t tell me the truth. I can’t really know anything in that event.”

“I need this. Fear born of necessity. Dread that I might make a mistake.”

The corners of his mouth, albeit stitched together and crooked, turned up into a slight smile.

“I like that answer.”

“I’m glad.”

“It serves its purpose, to an extent. Feeds the ego. Unfortunately for you, it is the id that I am intent on reaching, of digging my fingers into. Should you let me, of course.”

“And if I don’t?”

Jonathan’s clouded eyes focused on yours, his dulled pupils seeming to sharpen as he honed in on you, a glint of something beyond them that you couldn’t quite place, or didn’t have the confidence to admit to.

“What else frightens you?”

“Like… in general?”

He nodded slowly, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs, boot clad foot tapping in the air.

“Heights, failure, the dark. Nothing… nothing abnormal.”

He shook his head and you laughed a little at the way he seemed to disapprove of your answer.

“Honestly! Nothing really scares me all that much.”

“Lies.”

“Excuse me?”

“Do you mind if I smoke?”

“I… what? No, of course not. But… around the toxin… it’s ok?”

He struck a match, holding it against the slightly crushed cigarette he now held to his mangled lips.

“Maybe… it’s more exciting that way though, don’t you think?”

“And you need my permission?”

He leaned into the table, elbows hard against the surface, and exhaled, a plume of acrid smoke floating towards you, clouding your own vision as you imagined his was.

“It’s only polite.”

You watched him, the way he held the cigarette between his slender fingers, chipped nails stained yellow, knuckles darker, calloused. You studied them so thoroughly you could almost feel them on you. Grazing over your neck, romantic, dangerous. Implied eroticism through the sheer terror of him. Clearing your throat, you refocused just as he resumed his questioning.

“Have you ever felt the effects of my toxin?”

“Never.”

“Would you like to?”

“Out of curiosity… probably yes.”

Crane smiled, blowing the remaining smoke upwards, his cigarette all but a stub.

“Your preferred method?”

“There’s choices?”

Jonathan stood up, suddenly but not quickly, a small movement of his knee to loosen it before he walked to the wall, putting the cigarette out against it and letting it fall to the floor, beginning to walk towards you languidly, until he was behind you, pacing back and forth, a surround sound effect as the heavy steps of his boots echoed around you.

“There’s always a choice.”

He spoke from behind you, but you remained still in your seat, staring forward at the wall, focusing your attention on the burn mark on the wall, your eyes boring the hole further into the wood beyond the charred paper.

“What would yours be?”

“I…”

You had no idea how to respond. There was every chance that your selection was going to lead to a violent nightmare within the four disgusting walls of the room you were in, those same walls seeming to get closer to you, creeping inwards, threatening to swallow you. But you couldn’t stay quiet.

“What would you recommend, Doctor Crane.”

“You’re asking for a prescription?”

“I’m asking for your valued opinion.”

He laughed, a sweet sound, almost. Higher in tone that his speaking voice, warm in a way that made you feel safer, reassured. An effective placating tool.

“Well, there’s the gas. A traditional method, if not slightly more ominous given the connotations. But that’s not always a bad thing.”

The boots, heavy on the ground, seemed to scuff more the longer he paced, only on his left leg though, as though it were growing more and more difficult to keep up with the movement. But you doubted he was the kind of man who would be willing to accept his constraints.

“Dust, pills, tabs, all previous transgressions I have experimented with, which I would be happy to synthesise again if you so choose.”

Considering the implications, you could feel the sweat forming on your palms again, your brow hot, cheeks flushed, chest heaving as your heart beat rapidly within the walls of your ribcage.

“But, for me, I’ve found the most effective method is my preferred in fact. The one I would recommend…”

Standing directly behind you, a position you could feel, instincts buried within your primordial brain causing the hairs on your neck and arms to rise, he leaned in, body against the chair you sat in. As the metal of his brace scraped against the leg of the chair, your breath hitched when you felt the almost imperceptible cold tingling of metal against your skin.

Out the corner of your eye, you could make out his arm, the gauntlet, orange, black, browns, flesh, the scent of oiled metal and leather, the pressure of the tips of the needles against you. Becoming still, solid, though your breath quivered as it escaped you in hushed, slow exhales.

“…it’ll always be the needles. Intravenous, muscular. My toxin coursing through your body, bringing forth what you’re truly afraid of.”

Leaning in further, the needles creating light scratches on your skin, but not far enough into the flesh to cause any immediate effects, he whispered into your ear.

“Why are you scared?”

As your eyes began to water from the stillness with which you held your body, you urged your mouth open, letting the words fall out clumsily, but honestly.

“I’m not.”

A soft, crackling laugh hit your ear along with the heat of his breath. As quick as he had appeared by your side, he was gone, the threat of the needles removed from your person, and you slouched in your chair momentarily before straightening up and clasping your hands on the table top.

Jonathan made his way back around the table, sitting back down in the chair, stretching his left hand out onto the table.

Smiling at the gesture, almost an inside joke between the two of you, you took it in yours. Warm, dry, his grip pleasant and civil until you felt his fingers tense around you.

“You will be though.”

Tighter, until you felt a dull pain begin to throb in your knuckles as they pressed into each other.

“After all, that’s the business I’m in. That we are in.”

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hello cat, may i request a hero who's had a string of bad relationships and a villain who's absolutely in disbelief that that could happen. Like they're absolutely flabbergasted that multiple someones didn't like the hero.

Have a good day! Drink water and rest :>

With the villain's knife nearly digging into the hero's shoulder, they looked up at their enemy, panting and exhausted. They knew the villain loved the thrill, the damn sparring.

It was all a game to the villain, a funny and meaningless game when they toyed with the hero. They liked to watch them fight, loved to challenge them.

The villain seemed way more relaxed than the hero did, after all the hero had a bunch of responsibilities on their shoulders that had an actual weight. The hero was 90% sure the villain was some millionaire with too much time on their hands.

"Quite the intimate position, dear," the villain whispered. They winked and leaned down, making their knife press a little harder against the hero's shoulder. "You look lovely today, by the way."

"Your pick-up lines get worse, do you know that?" the hero asked. They tried to wiggle and somehow get away from their nemesis but it was to no use. The villain sat down on their hips and pressed them into the ground. Their smirk never faltered.

"Oh, come on. You love it."

"Just a little," the hero said. They were pretty sure all of this was a big joke. And even though that was true, even though the villain pretended to like them, the hero welcomed the effort.

It made them feel special. Especially when the villain got jealous.

"Don't tempt me," the villain said. However, their smirk fell when they saw the hero's sad smile. "What is it?"

"What? Nothing, nothing. Where were we? You wanted to stab me?" The pressure faded and the villain looked quite puzzled.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because you're the only interesting hero in this boring city. Would hate it if you actually fought me."

"I am actually fighting you."

"You're holding back, don't think I am that dumb, please."

The hero sighed. They supposed it wasn't a good idea to tell the villain what kind of troubles they got into when they weren't in costume. It wasn't smart to reveal that much of themselves, was it?

They took in another breath.

But wasn't that why they kept their identity a secret?

"...it's kind of pathetic," they said.

"I commit crimes to get your attention. That is pathetic," the villain joked and somewhere deep down, the hero felt more secure. It was strange how the villain could be such a stranger yet the person the hero was closest to.

"I'm just enjoying this more than I should. I'm not very good when it comes to personal relationships, so your efforts are really refreshing."

"You are not good with personal relationships? You with all your conflict-resolving talk and your words of encouragement and your helpful nature? You?"

"Yeah...can't seem to keep a partner."

"You're kidding. You've kept me for three years." The hero smiled. Whether it was intentional or not, the villain managed to calm their anxiousness.

"I guess I am too needy. Or too distant. Too pushy, I don't know. Maybe I am one of those people who doesn't end up with anyone." They shrugged and the irony of saying that while the villain was sitting on their hips only occurred to them later.

"Oh please, people must be throwing themselves at you. I mean, hello!?" The villain looked down the hero's entire body, suggesting that the hero was some kind of royal everyone drooled over. This time, the hero felt their cheeks burn.

"Ugh, stop it. You're so annoying." They pushed the villain's face away, partly because they wanted to touch them, partly because they didn't want the villain to see their glowing face. But the villain only looked amused.

"You're totally lovable," they said. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

With that they winked at the hero and disappeared into the night.

And the hero realised they had a terrible crush on their enemy.

[nebulaafterdark]

Do you think you could write something with Aegon x velaryon or targ reader and it’s their wedding night? Plz and thank youuuuu

Yes! Here we go.

Sweet Girl

Aegon x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI unprotected sex, loss of virginity, Targcest, soft!Aegon.

This is it. Y/N fidgets restless at the foot of Aegon’s mattress. Her uncle, her nemesis, her husband.

Aegon approaches with two cups in hand.

“No,” Y/N puts a hand out, pushing back against the gauntlet lightly. “Thank you.”

“You’re shaking.” Aegon says, pointedly. “Trust me, a drink or two always takes the edge off.”

“You don’t have to be nice to me now.”

“That’s not entirely true.” He frowns. “I have no desire to face the wrath of your mother, stepfather or the King.”

“You think my mother would be angry?” Y/N scoffs, “if Rhaenyra cared she would not have been so willing to let us marry.”

Aegon tosses back his drink. “You are her heir after all, there’s bound to be sacrifice required to pave your way. If it makes you feel any better, this was my mother’s doing as well.”

Y/N looks up at him, still standing over her with the cup.

“It is not poison, I swear.”

The brunette smirks, taking the offering in hand and chugging the liquid. It burns its way down her throat, much stronger than wine. “What is that?” She chokes out.

Aegon takes the seat beside her, the mattress shifting under his weight as he claps the princess once on the back. “Only the best for my wife.”

Y/N allows the cup to tumble from her hand and clatter to the floor. The effects of the concoction hit her fast.

“Would you like another?” Aegon asks.

“Somehow I don’t think that’s a good idea. Unless you prefer me unconscious.” Y/N muses, “on second thought-” she makes for the chalice.

“Oh no,” Aegon chuckles, catching her around the waist. “If I have to be awake for this, so do you.”

“Let us get on with it then.” Y/N tosses herself backwards onto the coverlet.

“You’re just going to lie there?”

“Mhm,” Y/N closes both eyes.

“Am I truly so awful?”

“That remains to be seen.”

“How are you meant to see anything with your eyes closed?”

Y/N peeks at him, through a slit in one eye.

Aegon moves over her slowly, leaning on his elbows. Keeping most of his weight off of her. “I’ll be good to you.”

She sighs, taking in his face above her, in full. Aegon is beautiful, she’ll give him that. And when he’s not being a twat, he can be kind. “Swear it?”

“I do.”

In a spirit induced state of willful negligence, she reaches a hand up to cup his cheek. “Could you ever love me?”

“Love,” he laughs. “What is love but a frivolous endeavor which breeds eternal suffering?”

Y/N lifts a shoulder, “I suppose you’re right. But there must also be benefits. Think of all those who live and die for it.”

Aegon shifts against her, making himself at home with his chest to hers. “I have never known love. However, lust and I are dear companions. You will find pleasure each time we lie together.”

“And when we are finished I’ll leave?”

“If that is your desire.”

“What if I stay?”

“That is my desire.”

“Then you do crave affection?”

“Among other things, yes.” He admits. “From you, as my wife, I crave affection above all.”

“I’ve never…been with anyone. I can’t say if I’ll be good at it.” Her eyes search his for reassurance.

“We could learn together.” Aegon leans in a bit closer, their breath mingling. “Conquer love and rule the Seven Kingdoms.”

Y/N pushes slightly off the bedding, capturing his lips with hers. “You’ll have to conquer me first.”

Aegon grins against her mouth, “gently the first round, then without mercy.”

Y/N inhales deeply, feeling his tongue invade her mouth. Lapping against her own, tasting her thoroughly.

As he suspected, she is sweet. Aegon relishes in this for a long moment, until her hips begin canting up against his. His finger tips grazing along the silhouette of her torso through the material of her nightgown. Squeezing the flesh of her hip, past her rib cage to the outskirts of her breasts. Cupping her soft mounds, nipples pebbling against his palm.

Y/N gasps, pressure building between her thighs. She rocks her hips against Aegon for relief, gasping at the feel of him, rock solid.

“Could you come undone like this, sweetheart?”

“I- I don’t know.”

Aegon hums, trailing kisses away from her lips, over her cheek, the corner of her panting mouth, sucking lightly at the pulse point on her neck. Rolling her peaks between his thumb and forefinger. “So responsive, I think you could.”

Y/N whines, looking for some relief from her aching core. “Aegon, please.”

“May I take this off?” He tugs at her gown, lightly.

She nods, staring up at him with glossy eyes. Following his lead, until nothing is left between them. Catching a glimpse of his length, she quickly moves her gaze away.

“You can look.” Aegon offers her a lopsided grin.

“Does it hurt,” Y/N motions to his cock, hard and pink at the tip.

Aegon kneels down between her legs, parting her thighs farther and finding her bundle of nerves. Y/N squeals, gripping his shoulders for purchase. “It wants attention, but it’s not painful yet.”

“I want you inside me.” Y/N rides his hand unabashedly.

Aegon groans, “need you to peak first, while my fingers fuck open your perfect little cunt.”

She whimpers.

“Lie back for me, dearest.” He purrs, still on his knees between her trembling limbs. He pecks a kiss to her knee. “Relax.”

Y/N’s muscles are taut in anticipation of his next move, bowing off the bed when his thumbs part her lips, making room for his mouth to connect with her pearl. He teases the swollen bud with his tongue.

“Gods, Aegon.” She cries out, desperately fisting his hair in hand. Unsure if she wants to pull him closer or push him away.

Aegon hums his approval. Sweetest cunt he’s ever had. Slipping a single finger carefully into her tight heat. Feeling her walls clench at the intrusion.

The feeling is foreign to Y/N, her husband allows her to get accustomed to it before adding a second. Curling them up to coax release from her.

He laps at her cunt as she thrashes above him. Overwhelmed with sensation. Calling out for him desperately. Three digits is a stretch and Y/N does whine a bit at the intrusion but Aegon keeps her attention on his lips. Closed around her pearl and sucking until she peaks. Hugging his fingers so tightly even Aegon moans.

Y/N nudges at his head, coming down from her high, “too much.” She cries when Aegon attempts to keep her in place.

He chuckles, licking a firm strip up her slit before slinking up her boneless form. “You alright?”

“I think so,” she pants, shuttering at the lightest touch.

Aegon steals a kiss from her lips, then the tip of her nose.

“I want you.” She repeats.

The prince has been a lot of things in his life, wanted is hardly one of them.

“There might still be a bit of pain from your maidenhead,” he warns.

“Do it all at once.” Y/N encourages, feeling the tip of him nudging at her entrance.

“Tell me if it’s too much, we’ll stop.”

Y/N nods, bracing herself.

Aegon takes her mouth once more, waiting until she is fully at ease, contented in their kiss before sliding into her. There is little resistance as he bottoms out in her warmth.

“Ah.” She whimpers, it burns.

“Such a good girl,” Aegon praises, nuzzling against her cheek.

“Aegon.” Y/N paws restlessly at his back.

“Shhh,” he slides an arm behind her shoulder blades, holding her fast against the crook of his neck. Fighting to stay still.

They remain like this for a long moment before Y/N experimentally bucks her hips upward. There is still a bit of pain from the stretch, but nothing unbearable.

“Oh, my sweet girl.” Aegon admonishes, “be still until you are ready. Do not tempt me.”

“Move,” Y/N murmurs, against the shell of his ear.

He pulls out, until only the tip of him remains, thrusting back in softly. “Alright?”

Y/N nods, her head cradled against him as he begins fucking her in earnest. All the breath leaving her lungs in short puffs.

“So tight,” Aegon grunts out. “Not leaving this room until you’ve reached your peak draped over every piece of furniture. Against every wall.”

“Please.”

“Would you like that, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” Y/N is drawing near the edge again, the nip of pain from their coupling only serves to heighten the experience.

“I’ll fill you to the brim with my seed so that you might be with child on the morrow.” Aegon promises, clenching and unclenching his fingers in her dark hair. Feeling the quickening throughout his entire body. “Come apart once more for me.”

“I need you to touch me…the way you did before.” She pleads, so close to the precipice.

Allowing not an inch of space between them, Aegon snakes his free hand down to her pearl. Letting her rock against his fingers for friction.

“Fuck,” Y/N sobs, clamping down hard around his cock.

“That’s my girl,” Aegon all but growls between gritted teeth as his orgasm washes over him. “My good fucking girl.”

Y/N continues milking his length, even harder at his words. Riding out their shared high until Aegon flops down beside her, spent. He smirks devilishly; reaching down to collect the bit of his release trickling from her and forcing it back into her warmth.

He has conquered her. Or perhaps they have conquered each other.

[amarynthian-chronicles]

Tip the Scales Chapter 1

Prosecutor Sun, Prosecutor Moon, Judge Eclipse x Defense Lawyer (Devil's Advocate) Reader

(You are a charismatic defense lawyer in a constant competition with two ruthless prosecutors that do not understand your ideals about criminals deserving a second chance. You are also housemates with a certain bitter and retired judge, who has a habit of operating at night as a cloaked figure known as the Judge of the Damned. Things get complicated when your old friend Monty gets accused of a murder he claims to not have committed willingly. Will you balance the scales once more?)

Warnings: suggestive themes, possessive behaviour, mentions of violence

There was a particular universal truth that court employees would never dare to admit about court proceedings: not a single one of them actually wanted to be there. Those that did enjoy being present during a session were either lying to themselves or were being paid obscene amounts of cash to pretend to care. In other extreme cases, it was all a part of unhinged ambition sprinkled with a dash of insanity.

Normally the whole process was a dreary affair, varying from sordid and depressing, all the way to showing what an administrative inferno the whole institution had become over time. True to the Dickensian fashion of describing things, one could say that the gloomy and omnipresent fog that had consumed the city with the arrival of Fall was equally present in the courtroom itself, both metaphorically and literally, entering every pore and chilling everyone to the bone.

However, in our specific situation things were getting quite heated. The cold September fog had been rudely pushed aside by the steam of intense and fiery debate you were having with prosecuting attorney Sun.

A bitter rivalry existed between you and the celestial-themed animatronic, but over the past year it seemed to have bloomed into obsessive fascination on Sun's part. We could classifiy it as another universal truth that one was bound to eventually become infatuated and captivated by their “nemesis“.

Placing you two in the same room was a very bad idea. Or a very good idea, it honestly depended on who you asked. For instance, the general public that had come to listen to your long nonsensical argument had arrived there for the sole purpose of finding out whether you two would passionately kiss somewhere in the middle of the whole discussion.

The suspense was maddening, the tension was more than palpable. One of the clerks was fanning himself with a folder, wondering whether or not he had taken his heart medication earlier.

“Could somebody open a window, please?“

There had always been an unusually thin line between love and hatred, enemies and lovers, but somehow it seemed oddly fitting for you and Sun to combine both at the same time with no problem.

After a well crafted comeback, believing himself to be the victor, Sun winked at you, triumphant and his grin wide and sinister.

“Was that as good for you as it was for me?“

“My dear sir, I cannot say, I hardly even felt anything.“

“I was under the impression that we have long abandoned this little “playing hard to get“ scenario.“

“Goodness, that sounds serious, delusions could be a sign of a system malfunction, you should get that checked, Sun.“

“Don't be so high and mighty. You will lose today, both the case and the little bet we made.“

“Oh, my, so ominous. I sure am devastated on the inside, inconsolable, I shall probably never recover.“

You were driving him insane. Healthy competition was usually highly encouraged, but this was beyond ridiculous. No matter how eloquent and skillful he was in the art of rhetoric, you refused to yield. You were still a relatively young jurist, having passed the bar examination barely two years prior, but your legal reasoning was unusually innovative and your application of creative solutions to impossible problems was astounding. There wasn't a single thing that Sun could throw at you without you catching it and throwing it ten times harder right back at him.

The judge, an elderly man that was diligently counting down the days till it was socially acceptable to retire from what was regularly a life tenure, was listening to the two of you bicker as if it were the latest installment of his favourite picture show series. He wondered if he should simply let you silly lovebirds borrow his chambers for a minute or two. Or thirty, wherever the feeling takes you. He was very supportive.

He was also the only judge in the building willing to tolerate the nonsense that you and the Celestial Prosecutors kept pulling off in the courtroom. It was free entertainment and he needed some amusement in his old age. The rest of the judicial assembly would have to pull straws each time a new case had to be assigned.

He remembered how different things had been a few years prior.

It was an open secret that the judicial assembly missed the old days when the esteemed Judge Eclipse had still been in office, before his abrupt retirement under unusual circumstances. Eclipse would always volunteer to do all the work, snatching case files from everybody's hands and closing himself in his chambers, leaving the possibility for the rest of the assembly to simply enjoy their coffee and gossip in the conference room.

Intense and immensely dedicated to his work, unyielding, unforgiving and merciless, Eclipse had been akin to a dark deity of the afterlife, deciding the fate of souls that had succumbed to corruption. His golden eyes had held nothing but pure contempt for evildoers, his mechanical heart perpetually hungry for the suffering of the wicked. Court sessions under his administrations had been a thing of horror for some and an example of a job well-done for others. Deranged and disproportionate punishments had made Eclipse quite unpopular in the criminal milieu, and there had been quite a few attempts on his life that would usually end up with the assassins themselves having their spines twisted into a pretty pretzel.

Self-defense, clear-cut, no questions asked, nobody left to mourn a few dismembered rulebreakers.

The euphoria had been too intoxicating, the flesh of Evil too delicious, the screams of the damned a symphony unmatched.

One thing had lead to another, interfering into interrogations, conflict of interest, violating every possible rule of criminal procedure, prisoners being found dead in their cells, acquitted individuals dying under suspicious circumstances mere days after their release.

The courthouse and law enforcement would always turn a blind eye. Whispers in the corridors, silent gasps in the archive rooms, everybody knew of Eclipse's tendencies, his desire to play god. Nobody had dared to make a fuss about the whole situation, not even when a few fellow judges that had been accused of bribery had one day "mysteriously" disappeared. It was all a silent approval. Crime statistics had been fixing themselves, who would dare interfere?

Deciding to return to topics less grim and vile, the current judge smiled fondly at the prosecutors and the sly defense lawyer before him. Such a sweet change, whimsy and passion reigning supreme, banishing the sepulchral dread of olden times.

Contrary to custom, Sun was working with his brother Moon by his side. It was definitely unusual for two prosecutors to work together on same cases and appear in court as a team, but nobody had ever complained about it and regulations had no explicit rule against it. It was Moon's duty to make a thorough research and keep Sun informed of any new facts or legal acts in order for Sun to prepare a proper presentation to enthrall everyone in the courtroom or ask for appropriate actions.

They used all of their individual strengths and skills to achieve the best results. Reminiscent of their older brother's inclinations, their methods and ruthless determination in the pursuit of their version of justice at all costs had become notorious, eventually making the general public refer to them as the Grand Inquisitors.

All of that aside, the two of them still had to make sure that each investigation went perfectly by the books and that there were no irregularities made by law enforcement in the initial stages of each investigation. Being a prosecutor was akin to being a sea captain that constantly kept hoping that his crew was sober. One single mistake meant that the other party would pounce on it like a feral animal.

And pounce you did.

For instance, you were easily capable of rendering a whole confession useless by claiming it was inadmissible evidence obtained through coercion. It was no trouble for you to stage a whole scene.

You had pulled off such a stunt a few times in the past and the results would always follow a hilarious pattern: the confused police officers would simply blink and question their general reality on whether they had truly applied excessive force, the public audience would try not to snack too loudly on the popcorn they had brought, the defendant would do his best to keep crying and keeping his story straight about how absolutely devastated and tortured he was, the judge would hope that no reporters would come crawling in the courtroom and asking about human rights violations. Again.

The celestial twins were unused to such audacity and blows to their pride. Sun and Moon had always been a powerful force that had never known the meaning of failure, the playing field had been theirs to dominate and it was pure madness to even think that anyone could place an end to that. And then you showed up and suddenly the courtroom was a circus, you were the ringmaster and you turned the two of them into the lead jesters of the whole show.

They were furious with you for making a mockery of their act. How dare you?

Moon did his best to remain subtle with his temper, even if his pencils did audibly snap in half from time to time. He had to keep an appearance a patient man, someone courteous and polite. It was of great importance to keep that thick layer of ice above the boiling madness that stirred deep within.

Oh, how you tested his patience still. It all kept accumulating, over and over, cracking the ice bit by bit.

He could write a masterpiece of scholarly analysis and a seemingly perfect reconstruction of events, and you would destroy all of that effort simply by telling him he wrote a date wrong, messing up the entire chronology and all further conclusions, rendering the whole thing useless. You always tripped him with the little things, formalities, so many tidbits that made the whole construction fall apart.

The devil was in the details, after all.

Speaking of which, since the majority of your clients were desperate people that had strayed from the morals of society into a life of crime for mere survival, you had earned yourself the title of Devil's Advocate among your colleagues. The world of your clients, however, was quite grateful for your services and assistance, all of them calling you their Fairy Godparent.

You got them out of trouble, you found them alternatives and new respectful jobs, you gave and gave, granting wishes and making them all happily dance to your music. If anyone had issues or needed help, they knew who to come to. You were waiting with good life advice, cupcakes, a hot cup of coffee and assurance that you would solve all of their problems. In many cases, you were the last angel before the gates of Hell for them, grasping their hand and pulling them back to safety.

After all, placing their fate in your hands was a far better alternative than sinking deeper into darkness and one day being inevitably visited in the middle of the night by the Judge of the Damned, having their life taken as the midnight bells rang.

Because of this looming threat, you did your best to save each soul you came across.

In this particular case, it was a young man that had gotten himself in some serious trouble after associating with a dangerous faction of drug dealers. Such business always came with its risks and there was no true loyalty nor help if someone got caught. Moreover, it was common practice to silence the person from revealing the others by simply ordering their assassination in prison. The young man had gotten way in over his head, too ambitious and too confident in his own abilities, intoxicated with the romantic ideas of what he had seen in movies.

His older brothers had approached you for help after his arrest and you had accepted, of course. You would get the boy out of trouble, free of charge, under the condition that he dedicated himself to getting his life back on track and you would be making sure things stayed that way.

Sun was still waiting for you to speak, and the rest of the room was wondering whether or not you were truly speechless this time or if you were simply preparing something spectacular. Of course, it was the latter. You had pulled a lot of strings and cashed in a few favours, but it was all for a good cause. You heard Sun's impatient voice:

“Ready to admit defeat? There is no conceivable way for you to counter any of this evidence, it is over.“

“Only for those that lack the imagination to do so. I call in question the credibility and the competence of your toxicology expert. You cannot claim that my client was in possession or consuming a certain substance, if its chemical components do no even match what you claim it to be.“

“Pure cocaine was found on his person. He has been known to associate himself with dangerous smugglers of forbidden narcotics.“

“A second analysis, that I took the liberty of ordering from another expert, proved that it was mere flour.“

“Excuse me?“

“He is a baker's apprentice. Poor boy, he is just keeping all of that secret out of shame, which is why we did not mention this earlier, by the way. Alas, I cannot keep this silence anymore, for I must act in his best interest. You see, ever since he was a small lad, it was his dream to make fine Danish pastries, but everyone in his general vicinity was obsessed with the whole “dashing gangster“ persona that is so popular right now, so no wonder that this sad young man, just look at his eyes, this poor innocent child tried to emulate all of that simply to get some respect from his cruel peers. So, he walked around with flour and pretended that it was cocaine. It is all because of societal pressure.“

Had Sun been gifted with a detachable jaw, it would have fallen on the floor by now. It was madness. Your claim was pure madness. He wasn't certain, but he did feel as if all of his systems were about to crash down in a sad attempt at self-preservation. Moon's crimson eyes had turned black and he seemed as if he were silently rebooting himself. It was best for everyone to have him unconscious for a bit, otherwise he would have probably gotten violent. The stenographer stopped typing and blinked at you in a very “what the actual hell“ manner and the old judge took his glasses off emphatically as people normally do in such situations for no specific reason other than dramatic effect.

“God, I haven't felt this much excitement since my last divorce.“

The defendant was very much surprised to hear this as well. He gestured for you to come closer and whispered to you:

“I am a baker's apprentice?“

“You are now. Be the role, become the role, make the rolls. Also, you start next Monday at five in the morning, I got everything already arranged with the baker on main street. This whole process should by over by then.“

“What? The only dough I know how to roll is the monetary one.“

“You learn while you live.“

The poor man looked at you with the expression of someone that would really rather just go to prison than go through such blood pressure oscillations.

His brothers, three friendly chaps in dashing suits, homburg hats and leather gloves, were all smiling and holding a thumbs up in encouragement. He turned around to look at them with a genuinely desperate expression. Listening to this nonsense was punishment enough, regardless if he did the crime or not. They had assured him that you were the best, but nobody ever said that your methods were the sanest.

You cleared your throat and spoke up again:

“In light of this and to support these claims, I enclose all the necessary documents and I am prepared to call the relevant new witnesses if you agree, Your Honour.“

“I can adjourn, I personally got no problem with continuing this on a later day of the week. I have to tell you, you kids are keeping me young, I always thought that my later years in life would be boring. Boy, I sure was wrong.“

A partially drunk man from the spectator area began to clap.

“Bravo!“

The bailiff looked over at him.

“What are you clapping for?“

“I thought this was the theatre.“

“It's a courtroom, is what it is.“

“What's the difference?“

Just as you were about to sit down, Moon was suddenly by your side, having miraculously finished his little reboot session and feeling more energized than ever. It was rather concerning, since he was capable of pulling such a stunt within mere seconds, changing location so fast before you could even register it. You had a theory that he was probably capable of some type of flight or teleportation.

You made a little squeak of surprise as you felt his hands on your shoulders, pulling you close to his face plate, crimson eyes trying to cut your soul to shreds. Nevertheless, you refused to lose your decorum and you kept up an air of aristocratic disinterest.

“May I help you, sir?“

“Don't give me that. You know exactly what you are doing. I am not letting you humiliate us like this again.“

“And you are going to make things better for yourself by intimidating me in public like this? I really want to know what the plan is, I'm curious now.“

“Curiosity will kill you one day, little devil fairy.“

“I am certain that satisfaction will bring me back. What exactly do you want from me?“

He squeezed your shoulders and began to lightly massage them. It was oddly pleasurable, since you were tense and tired. Moon's voice was low, raspy, almost a whisper, akin to that of a nocturnal demon that haunted the shadows and ruled over nightmares.

“What goes around comes around and one day I will humiliate you, as well. I will tear those fairy wings apart.“

“Do you think I am afraid of you?“

“You should be. But, yes, I do have an additional request. Meet us in the conference room as soon as we are done here. We wish to talk.“

For a moment it seemed as if the two of you had forgotten that you were in an oddly compromising embrace in front of the entire courtroom. The same man from the spectator area whispered to the bailiff:

“Is this when the smooching starts? I could have sworn I read it somewhere in the play synopsis.“

“This is not the theatre!“

“Listen, Shakespeare once said that the whole world is a stage. He also said that we should kill all the lawyers, though, but I vote that we keep these three here, I need to know what happens next.“

A normal person would refuse to accept Moon's request after his little outburst, but you wished to talk to him and Sun, as well. Perhaps the old saying of “keep your friends close and your enemies closer“ had some wisdom to it, but you also genuinely wished to somewhat make peace with them. Maybe even explain your perspective and your ideas of justice to them. If things got really wild, possibly even form some fragile bond of friendship.

“Alright, I will be there, I just need some time to get my things first and I will also fetch a cup of coffee.“

You pushed him away and he allowed you to do so. However, his gaze was still on you even as everyone had risen and prepared to leave for the day. He watched you as you cheerfully talked with your client and his family, so warm, so caring. They gave you presents to show their appreciation, bags full of chocolates, teddy bears and a ridiculously large plush rabbit. Such whimsical things, childish and ridiculous, and yet your eyes almost had sparkles from how happy you were.

You were considered a beauty by many, but you were not coquettish, ignoring any amorous comments with your usual aristocratic disdain. Your hair was long and soft, well taken care of, but there were always a few little disobedient tufts that almost appeared like tiny and cute devil horns. It was impossible to straighten them out and you simply let them be.

You had a penchant for black pinstripe suits. However, the professional sterness was mitigated by the presence of a star-shaped pink diamond brooch pinned to the striped bow on your chest area. Moon found it conveniently suitable for your “fairy godparent“ aesthetic. The diamond would catch even the faintest amounts of light, reflecting it on surrounding walls to signify that you were approaching. You were wondrous, gentle hues of pink always heralding your arrival.

Sun spoke to him as the two of them made their way to the conference room, distracting him from his reveries:

“They are so cold to us and yet so warm to them. Did you see that smile?“

“Our fairy sees value in miscreants and mongrels. It is only a matter of time before those strays bite the hand that feeds them and then the little fool will come crying to us.“

“It would be cruel of us to refuse them a warm embrace, brother.“

Moon pondered the thought, the potential image of you in a disheveled state, disappointed and heartbroken. There was something wonderfully poetic about the idea of your rose garden withering away. It was a fair trade for all the times you kept trying to ruin their own view of the world. He and Sun were the righteous hands of justice and not even you could protect your little army of demons forever, shielding them with your dark angel wings till one day their final feather crumbles to dust. A misguided fallen little seraph had to have limits.

Sun and Moon waited for good while for you to arrive. Getting coffee was serious business, after all.

The windows in the conference room were covered with Venetian blinds, creating a game of light and shadow, giving it an air of mystery and melancholy. However, the moment you entered, your diamond brooch cast little sparkles of warm pink all over the walls.

You were carrying the bags with gifts and also balancing your coffee cup. It was honestly a miracle you did not spill everything yet. You set it all on the large table and for a moment you almost seemed to have forgotten the two animatronics even existed as you were fiddling with the little treats you had received.

“These chocolates are my favourite. It is a shame you two can't eat, you are missing pure heaven. Now, what exactly did you two want to talk about?“

Sun was very straightforward and went right down to business.

“You cheated, lied and manipulated facts today.“

“Me? I can only aspire to be that productive in one single afternoon.“

“Furthermore, you shamelessly tried to avoid the consequences of losing our little bet.“

“Tell me something: are you more upset about the case or the bet? It seems to me as if the latter is tormenting you more than the former.“

“I am not answering that.“

“If you wanted a date, all you had to do was ask like a sensible man, we don't need these convoluted schemes for something that simple.“

“Would you, then?“

“No.“

“See, this is why we need the schemes.“

“Such a tragedy your problems are, Sun.“

You opened another box of chocolates and you were wondering whether to try the one with dark ganache filling or the one with hazelnut cream. You were rudely interrupted when Moon lifted your chin up to look at him.

“You are no longer going to prance around acting as if the justice system is your own personal circus. If we expose what you did today, you will be kicked out of the Lawyers' Association and you will lose your license to practice.“

“That sounds so depressing when you put it that way.“

“I personally can appreciate what you were trying to do for all those people in the past year or so, but enough is enough. We could have offered you a plea bargain, had you only asked us. We are more than happy to settle if those puppies of yours mean that much to you, but they will need to serve time, whether you like it or not.“

“When they get in the system, it's over, it will haunt them and follow them for the rest of their lives, from getting employment all the way to daily life and relationships.“

“None of that is your concern, Y/N. You cannot save everyone.“

“With all due respect, Moon, you have no right to tell me what to do. I do not hate you, but I will not tolerate you being in my way either. Do not be fooled by my kind nature, you have no idea who you are playing with. Dreams can become Nightmares fairly quickly.“

“I am saying all of this because I do not want you to share the same unfortunate fate that keeps repeating itself in your family. Always best friends with the wrong lot. You need to stop fraternizing with criminals, for your own good.“

Moon expected a specific reaction from you with that statement, foolishly assuming that he would hit the right spot, that he would cause fear, pain, uncertainty and a need to run somewhere for some emotional safety. Even Sun knew that he had gone too far with that topic.

You were not having it. Yes, you were a regal and delicate flower. However, that flower was also poisonous and with plenty of thorns. You huffed at him.

“Oh, so we are playing that card now? While we are on the subject of family tradition and dubious practices, I am well aware of the person that gets rid of the truly bad people. Did he ever come for any of my current and recent clients? No. Therefore I don't see why you are so determined to lecture me about helping those that only do crime out of necessity, not evil. If anything, this is just petty revenge because you hate losing and because you are a manipulative jerk with no empathy for the misfortunate, Moon. If you wish to punish someone, start with yourself.“

That certainly did hit a nerve.

Moon went over to the window, pulling the blinds shut and letting the room bathe in darkness, the pink light disappearing. You blinked to adjust your eyes.

“Is this really necessary?

Moon's voice was unusually low, almost a whisper:

"Is darkness not a familiar thing to you, little devil fairy? You certainly seem to linger in the shadows, refusing to see the light, you are blind and unable to grasp reality as it is."

You sighed and shrugged.

"That is still better than believing in blind justice. Also, at least I got the comfort of knowing that Sun over here cannot see anything right now, either.“

The daylight animatronic made a huff at your words.

“I still know the basic layout of the room, thank you very much.“

Sun then leaned over to you and whispered:

“Now, why did you have to tell him all that? He is very touchy on that subject.“

“Well, he started it.“

“And you had to continue it?“

“Yes. I too am allowed to be petty.“

Moon's crimson optics were the only light left and they were getting closer, wicked and menacing. Their glow suddenly disappeared and all that was heard was Moon's malicious cackling. Even with Sun present, you knew you were pretty much screwed and that it was best if you made your merry way in the opposite direction.

An interesting chain of events followed that led to even more interesting consequences. You reached for the nearby bag that had the giant bunny plushie in it, throwing it in the general direction of Moon's laughter, hoping that it would hit him and buy you enough time to run out of the room. However, you miscalculated while waving your hand, accidentally hitting Sun in the face instead. In your defense, you could barely see a damn thing in the dark.

As this happened, Sun stepped backwards out of sheer instinct, bumping right into Moon as he was trying to elegantly sneak up. This caused Moon to lose balance and fall on the floor. As he tried to catch onto the table to pull himself back up, his hand landed directly on the coffee cup and the whole contents spilled over the edge right onto him, ruining his coat, vest and shirt.

Needless to say how much noise you three idiots had made in the process.

You reached for another bag, and you began to swing it around without a care in the world.

“Stay back, both of you, I am armed with plushies and I am not afraid to use them.“

Sun's face kept being caught in the collateral damage, of course. With a swift motion, he managed to catch you and pick you up, placing you on the table and pinning your wrists to it to stop you from further attacking him with such a deadly weapon. Meanwhile, Moon was removing his coffee-stained coat and vest, lamenting how the whole fabric was ruined now.

“This is not how I envisioned this meeting to transpire.“

The whole scene was then interrupted when a clerk opened the door, seeing the two celestial animatronics looming over you while you were lying on the table, Sun holding your wrists and Moon having half his clothes off.

The man blinked a few times, before clapping in joy.

“Oh, my god, finally. I have been placing my bets on the three of you for months. I have to tell the others that they owe me money. They said you three would get together by December, but I was a visionary and I said somewhere in Fall. Ah, passion! Such a fantastic thing. Have fun, you crazy lovebirds, you! I'll tell the group of people that is standing right outside not to disturb you for the next few hours, okay? Okay, take care.“

He closed the door and left, leaving the room in darkness again. A few moments passed and you burst out laughing, unable to control yourself. The situation was absurd and you were starting to love every minute of it.

“I must say, this madness is better than some boring date. We should do it again sometime.“

AO3 Link

[silverflqmes]

໒⦂ 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍.

synopsis. even when all is lost, withering or crumbling away into dust, the unwilling bond tugging them to one another, again and again, remains unyielding.

genre. angst

tw. violence, kinda manipulation but like- he’s right..

disclaimer. there were no suitable sefikura gifs so i made one myself. if you use it, don’t be an ass, credit.

sephiroth x cloud strife. ( could be seen as platonic too )

the blond’s shoulders shook with exhaustion, hands blistering beneath his worn out gloves as his breaths came out shallow — uneven. as though the very oxygen he breathed had been stripped from his lungs amidst the clashing of steel against steel.

meanwhile the man across from him, stood with an eerie, but predictable calm, bangs flowing in the frigid breeze as his fingers curled around the hilt of his blade, ready.

it was just like last time, and the time before that.. and the time before that. every fight was near identical; same beginning with an ending that was equally the same. the only thing different was the words exchanged.

cloud, however, had grown tired of repetition.

the buster sword, trembling in his grasp, finally sunk into the earth, or whatever remained of it, as the former SOLDIER held himself up with a shaky breath.

sephiroth, mildly confused, though it had not reached his features, lowered masamune to his side, curiosity flashing in his feline-like eyes. “giving up so soon.. cloud? that was the last thing i’d expected, certainly out of you.” came his quiet comment, a hum following. “are you reconsidering my offer, perhaps?”

his offer.. the blond remembered it clearly, it echoed continuously in his head, like a mantra, since it left his curled lips.

“cloud, lend me your strength..” the one winged angel had stated mere moments ago, outstretching his leather covered palm. “let us defy destiny.. together.”

on their previous encounters, the mercenary would have yelled before gathering himself for the end of the battle, once more to prove his nemesis wrong. but the fire in him, whatever continued to burn, at last, faded from dying embers to evaporating wisps of smoke. much like the ones that surrounded the horrifyingly beautiful swordsman standing inches away from him.

with all lost or on the verge of being lost, how was he expected to go on? to continue this life long war without end? a battle could be won and lost, but a war persisted and called for more battles without prevail.

such was this so-called destiny sephiroth wished for them to defy.

but the former infantryman was no fool. at least, he believed he wasn’t.

“i don’t.. need your comments, offers or pity, s-sephi.. roth..” cloud heaved out, shaking his head weakly, attempting to remove his weight from the broadsword he’d been leaning on. “let’s just f-finish this.. once and for all.”

except, even he knew it wouldn’t be once and for all. it never was.

the cherished and famed war hero of shinra always, always, no matter the circumstances, odds or how many times the buster sword was cleaved clean through him.. he never failed to return. like a cat with nine lives, he stayed true to those eyes of his.

cloud had lost nearly every person he held dear to his wounded heart — had almost all of them taken away from him while he simply stood by and watched. too late to have made even the slightest difference to prevent the cruel outcomes that befell his loved ones.

the only one that seemed to persist, despite it all.. was sephiroth, he realized.

whether as a taunt or a bitter reminder of his failures at ending him for good — maybe even both, the self proclaimed ruler of the planet came back time and time again to prove the mercenary wrong. regardless of how deep of a slash he’d put through him using his departed friend’s weapon.

sadly, it was the bitter reality cloud lived. who was to say his silver haired nemesis would not return a third time? perhaps even a fourth, fifth or sixth- maybe even a hundredth.

nonchalance seemed to flicker in those mako colored irises, lips curling into what could be perceived as a smirk, albeit feint. “i thought i would mention, as you seem more withdrawn than the previous battles we shared.” he stated lightly, drawing his hilt back into his signature stance. “i would not want to fight you if your heart was not wholly, and irrevocably in it, cloud.”

the spiky haired male narrowed his eyes, vision slightly blurred from his fatigue and confusion. “why.. should my condition matter to you? am i not allowed to be tired of whatever this is- of constantly having to reenact this fight??” he retaliated in a low hiss, wincing as he forced the weapon into a defensive hold.

“i never stated you were not allowed to feel burnt out from our repetitive battles.” the older spoke up softly, a contrasting gentleness to his cold blooded nature — the one that was seared into him. “in fact, i have given you a way out of this fate that we share, where our reunions end with our blades locked.” he added shortly after, chuckling quietly, albeit devoid of humor. “it is often always you, cloud, who turns to fighting, anyway, is it not?”

the boy in question felt his heart in his throat, pupils dilating just slightly before he gritted his teeth. he would not dare fall for the words he spoke again — would not allow himself to see sephiroth as anything short of a villain. it was just so like him to say, anyway, twisting his actions to make him feel remorse.

tightening his grasp on the broadsword he held, cloud took a staggered step towards the taller. “don’t you dare give me that shit, you have ruined everything for me!” he shouted back, a bubbling rage surfacing in him the more he eyed the man across from him. “you’re insane to think i would believe a word you say! i know better than to trust someone who wouldn’t think twice about destroying and redesigning me into his own fucked up image!”

how could he not do that? all the things sephiroth said and expressed — it had all amounted to harnessing the sorrow, agony, hatred.. and that burning rage born from the town — his home, that had been scorched to ash and rebuilt as though it had never happened.

all for the purpose of pushing cloud to the very edge of despair, to pull him in deeper into the cold, dark waters. far away from the surface- from any source of warmth or light that wasn’t the flames on that fateful evening.. and into his everything.

a solemn smile seemed to replace the faltering smirk sephiroth sported as he let out another hum. “i am many things, cloud, but a liar.. is not one of them.” he answered lowly, eyes darkening. “you were rejected from SOLDIER five years ago due to sensitivity to mako. you were weak, incompetent and would have likely died on the field, had you been enlisted as you were.”

the younger of the two seemed to blink as he gripped his claymore tighter, glowering at the male he once idolized. if only that boy knew what his hero would become. “s-stop talking.” it came out stuttered, quieter, than he wished for it to. “you don’t know anything about me.”

“oh but i do, cloud.” he continued, anyway, stalking towards him. “i know everything there is to know. the things you cannot remember, the things you choose not to remember.. even things you do not know about yourself.” the teal eyed male went on, returning his sword to his side. “your strength now is more than it was that day in nibelheim. five years soaking in mako, injected with my cells has made you my equal.” he muttered, watching as the sapphire eyed mercenary trembled not in fear.. but in a nurtured, channeled fury.

it pleased sephiroth greatly, like an artist gazing upon his greatest work, as he appeared behind the blond mercenary, faster than any lightning materia could strike.

while the last of the strife family was still processing his position, the long haired male leaned in closely, curling his lips in a mild amusement. “my will and every desire, as well as my aspirations.. they run through your veins and call out to me- yearn to be one with me. you cannot resist the pull of the reunion, that undeniable need to find the one that tugs your strings.” he whispered into his ear, silver locks spilling over his battered shoulder armor. “what would you be without me, if not a weak, dejected infantryman with crushed dreams in becoming a SOLDIER?”

cloud stood there, frozen in his place despite the mixture of feelings he felt and had planned to pour into every slash he would deliver this time on his adversary.

what would he have been, truly, if not for sephiroth? if not for the horrors he had been through to get to this point?

his head lowered in shame, breaths coming out uneven at the realization as the buster sword dropped from his grasp. “i-i’m not.. i refuse to be any of what you say..”

“oh, but you were, cloud. no matter how many ways you paint the story in your head, however narrative you use to retell it.. your origins are embedded in you, unchanging.. as are my own.” the swordsman clad in leather spoke, placing a hand on his bare, quivering shoulder. “fret not, cloud, for you have gained strength in your suffering, have you not?” he mused out, feeling the other tense beneath his touch.

he had grown and gotten more powerful, yes..

“but i lost everything.” he whispered in a voice so broken from it all, unlike the harsh one that he’d been using as he felt his eyes gloss over with tears; ones that dared not leak in his wake.

..though at what cost?

sephiroth seemed to hum at the crack in whatever stability remained in cloud’s tone, smoothing a hand over his arm, soothingly. “that is the price of strength, cloud. do you think i became the way i am by design?”

other than the propaganda that painted his old role model and the version he came to know now, the spiky haired merc.. knew near nothing of him.

the taller took his silence as a sign to proceed, placing the back of the other’s hand into his palm. “my childhood was spent in a laboratory. those who raised me, the researchers of shinra.. were not pleased with how i was born- what i was born with. they wished for more, to construct and remodel me into that which i am today.” he explained, feeling the blond go completely still.

a mere breath away from his ear, sephiroth parted his lips again to finish. “the famed war hero which you idolized in your youth.. was in reality, a perfectly crafted monster all along, dressed under the guise of an angelic-like grace.”

the one winged angel.

cloud knew shinra wasn’t anything short of sick, having experimented on him as well as many others.. but to this extent?

“unlike you, however, i did not wish for this strength or for anything that was injected, slipped, disciplined or instilled into me.” he finished calmly, no longer fazed by what shattered him, so long ago now. “i did not ask for this destiny, either.. to have to die at your hands repeatedly and be rejected each time by the lifestream. but alas, i have been chosen for this, and to guide you, cloud, as my other half, whenever you lose your way.” the silver haired male finished, raising his free hand to wipe his fresh tears. “so whenever you lose your reason and purpose, i will always be here to gift you a new one. weep not, cloud, for this dynamic is what binds us together.”

he was sure he’d heard something like that somewhere before, and not long ago.

“that which binds us together would be no more.” cloud recalled hearing him say, after the detonation of mako reactor one, amidst the fiery destruction, and his fragile state of mind. “and i would be loath to live in such a world.”

sephiroth had said that about the planet’s annihilation — a result of shinra’s carelessness and abuse of mako as an energy source.

his intentions were in regards to saving the world, but his methods — his vision.. it was flawed- fogged by his resentment for what everyone had done to him.

the self proclaimed first class SOLDIER wondered, would he, too, have reached that point — sephiroth’s point — had he not directed his drive and deplorable feelings into putting an end to him?

his head lowered in shame as he felt his breath catch in his throat. “if i knew strength would mean hurting — bringing death to everyone around me, then i would have never wanted it to begin with.” cloud willed himself to answer, flashes of his most cherished ones appearing in his mind. his mother, zack.. the late avalanche members..

he couldn’t keep doing this. his promise to tifa could barely be kept as it was. how could he be certain she would not be next? or even aerith, now?

sephiroth brought his chin to his shoulder, closing whatever proximity remained between their bodies as he lifted his chin up with his thumb. “it is not too late, cloud, to defy the destiny that has been written out against our will and knowing.” he encouraged in a gentle tone, resting his thumb so close to the corner of the merc’s bottom lip. “your beloved friends could be safe, the suffering would cease and we would stop our never ending fights. all you have to do, is lend your strength to me.. as the only one on this caving world who has endured similar suffering to your own and understands it best.”

ocean hues flashed like those of a deer in headlights, an involuntary shiver dancing down his spine.

to give into sephiroth..? the one thing he had been avoiding, suppressing himself- that part of him from doing.

and yet..

“what.. would i have to do?” cloud asked before he could stop himself from his curiosity, to which the former hero smiled.

“don’t worry, it’s a simple thing.” he assured, stepping around the other to be at his side as he slid his hand into his before gazing up at the sky. “you have gone against me time and time again, to which the cycle of us fighting has reiterated.” the one winged angel stated, trailing his slitted eyes down to the spiky haired hero beside him. “that leaves us with one method not yet attempted.”

partnership.

“what will it be,” sephiroth asked, squeezing his hand. “cloud?”

the former SOLDIER- no, infantryman, gazed down upon their intertwined hands, which he somehow did not reject as he let his words sink.

what would it be, indeed..

his lips pulled tightly together, and finally, he lifted his eyes to meet those of his greatest foe- who waited patiently, calmly, for his response.

one thing was for certain, cloud wouldn’t be able to stop himself from whatever left his lips in that moment.

cloud could only hope the right choice spilled passed his tainted appendages.

notes. the way i die off and come back to write the most fucked up shit ever.. anyways they have had me on a bad chokehold for DAYS. literally i am not ok. who let square make them this fucked up.. regardless, this is different from what i post- i don’t typically do ship writing any longer, so i hope it was decent!

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[lady-of-endless]

“I stand with you” (Ramattra x Reader)

Author’s Note: So I found another muse and I’m obsessed. Here is a nice little angsty fic (with a happy end). As usual, please excuse any grammar mistake, I’m not a native speaker.

Word count: 1743

Edit: here’s a new fic that can be read separately https://www.tumblr.com/lady-of-endless/710235615367692288/flashbacks-and-height-differences-ramattra-x?source=share

What should be done when someone despises you for who you are?

Your answer was to leave that individual alone and try not to bother him as much as possible, minding your business. It was supposed to be simple, not the complicated task it turned out to be.

Even if you went on with your daily duties at the peaceful monastery in Nepal, he kept on testing you. Slowing you down with his ravenous vortex, blocking your way with his void barrier, whatever it took to reveal your true colors and prove to his brother the hideous truth about human nature. It become a routine whenever he visited.

It all started when Zenyatta announced his brother's first visit to Nepal. Despite your excitement to meet him, your mentor had to briefly explain Ramattra's principles. Before even trying to find a solution, he already arrived.

You could recall how shivers ran down your spine when your chin was lifted by his staff to look up at him.

"Your name, human."

His voice was a shadow compared to the light of Zenyatta's tone. Ramattra spoke harshly, demanding. He could have ended you then and there but instead he gifted you mercy.

So, since then, there were only two kinds of days in Nepal. Calm days and days in which Ramattra visited and interfered with whatever you tried to do. However, with each of the latter, you started to learn more about the vengeful omnic and his devastating story. Unconsciously, Ramattra also discovered more about you. As sickening as it was initially to watch you get along with every omnic from the monastery, he started to get more curious. As trust does not blossom overnight, his visits started to get more frequent. Gradually, his daily torments stopped but even so, you still felt his gaze on you.

One day, Zenyatta decided to visit another monastery in Nepal with Genji. He left you and his dear brother responsible for the sacred place, much to Ramattra's displeasure who was not supposed to be there.

The night was so quiet, a serene snowing night, that could not anticipate such an unfortunate event.

Pacing aimlessly in your room with a late-night cup of tea, you accidentally saw from the window the terrible image of an omnic trapped under a fallen statue that decorated the court of the monastery. Gasping, you dropped the cup instantly, leaving your room in a desperate hurry but knowing exactly who could help.

His name echoed through the halls as you ran barefoot and called for him.

Arriving at his door, you started to bash your fists against the wood repeatedly, not caring about his recharging state at that late hour.

He heard your voice from the first call and sighed deeply, looking at the door but not moving yet.

"Ramattra, please! It's an emergency! An omnic!" You explained in a breathless voice. "Is injured, please, help."

Finally, the door was opened swiftly, his tall figure towering over you.

"Take me there."

You nodded and started running again, with him by your side this time.

"If you have anything to do with this, human, I will not hesitate to-"

"A statue fell over because of the weather." You stated hastily.

It was only then he realized it was indeed horrible weather outside, and even worse for something so weak as a human. Yet, there you were, running in a flimsy impractical outfit. He could not throw a remark because you both arrived at the scene.

A broken and incredibly heavy statue kept the poor monk injured and trapped in place. His pleas to help him panicked you even more. Ramattra wasted no time changing to his nemesis form to lift the stone from the omnic.

After that, when he reversed his transformation to his omnic form, you felt that it was your turn to act. Almost bumping into Ramattra who also wanted to look at the injuries, you both analyzed the damage fast.

It was critical. Ramattra got solemnly quiet and you were quick to notice it.

"No, don't even think about it, there must be something we can do."

He slowly shook his head, he has seen too many injured omics not to predict the outcome.

"I think...I can try to heal him." You continued in a small unsure voice.

Ramattra froze in place remembering that his brother explained how you were studying ways to use your healing ability the first time he saw you at the monastery.

"You think? Are you this unsure of your abilities?" He asked more sharply than he intended.

"I have never done this before... Healing an omnic." You explained in a whisper so that the one in pain could not hear.

Ramattra was speechless once again. Before he could demand explanations, you already started.

"Just describe to me how those components look when they're in perfect shape."

After voicing your idea, you pleaded to the injured omnic to stay with you, cupping his face gently. That gesture of human warmth should have infuriated Ramattra but not this time. "Please hurry, let us do it, Ramattra." You said daring to grip his hand tightly.

He was baffled by everything and especially by the hope in your eyes when looking at him. Why were you this motivated to save an omnic? How dare you care for one of his people when you were just a human? Leaving his wonder behind, Ramattra cleared his throat and started to help you.

Now, with your hands on the cold metal of those broken components you were trying to focus while Ramattra explained how each circuit should be in a stern voice. As you took in his words and concentrated, the damage started to slowly reverse under your touch. He looked in wonder at the omnic and then closely at your face.

After what seemed to be so many moments of an intense healing process, the injured omnic could finally get up from the ground alone. Happiness flowed in his tone when he thanked both you and Ramattra for saving his life. You were smiling weakly in return, something still felt off.

"Thank you for your crucial explanations. You saved another one." You said to Ramattra while both of you looked at the omnic who was walking back to his room in safety.

Ramattra only shook his head and started walking away from you already. This event got him too confused. He had to encounter the joy of keeping another omnic safe with caution and also sort his thoughts alone.

"Maybe you should study more since you are even staying at a place full of us omnics, don't you think?" He commented preparing for one of your comebacks.

However, no answer was heard from you this time, no response, no calm voice.

If Ramattra could have frowned, he would do it right then. Instead, he stopped and dared to be curious about your condition, taking a look over his shoulder. He saw you crashed on the ground, in the thin layer of cold snow.

...He stopped in place.

This is probably a false alarm, he thought. But he convinced himself that you had no intention of testing him.

...He took a step closer.

Maybe you wanted to pay him back for all of his torments. But you never seemed that upset or bitter about it.

...He walked closer to your static figure.

"Get up, human." His voice was as sharp as the wind.

A thought of using his staff to touch you flashed across his circuits but he kneeled next to your body instead. You were still breathing but shivering. Unintentionally, he remembered his brother's explanations again. What you also tried to learn from Zenyatta was how to handle energy loss after healing someone. You needed to rest, but logically not outside in that freezing weather.

Ramattra called your name. For the first time, he did not call you "human", "human pet", or "nuisance", he called the name that tormented his thoughts for days.

Hearing it, made you weakly open your eyes just to close them back.

"Get up now, or your vitals will drop!" He repeated, slightly nervous.

No reaction.

You knew that healing an omnic was different from what you knew you could do and something probably draining, yet you did it with no hesitation.

What was the reason?

Defeated, Ramattra looked around for any other omnic in sight but there was none. He sighed and embraced your body clumsily.

For years, he only knew how to harm a human, not protect it. He had no idea how to hold a body like yours, how to keep it close, safe. Yet, he had to do it. No, he started to want to do it. He did not care how fast the color from the human faces can drain because of low temperatures before, now, it started to worry him.

With the help of his nemesis form, he could put his scarf around your shoulders without letting your body out of his unfamiliar embrace.

"You forgot what I am?" You whispered in a shiver, feeling what he was doing.

There was never a moment in which he would forget what you were. A human that got on his nerves with your affection and care for the ones of his kind (without being a deception, he discovered). A human, different from those oppressors who took away the ones close to him and he killed in return. How could he forget when your face haunted him in his tries to meditate or make plans lately?

"Shut it or I will leave you where I found you." He said instead of everything else. "Save your energy and hold onto me."

So, yes, he knew what you were and who you were. The one that saved an omnic, the one that likes to interact all the time with ones of his kind, the one that wants to learn more.

Your name did not sound like a bad omen anymore.  

Was this what Mondatta preached about? Was this what Zenyatta tried to explain about you? A flashback of his lectures at Shambali made Ramattra feel a pressure in his chest, right where he thought he had a blade instead of a heart.

Suddenly, a cold gust of wind hit. Still advancing through it, Ramattra looked down at your peaceful expression and carefully placed a hand on the side of your face to shield you.

"You are safe with me."

[snakebites-and-ink]

Prev

CW: Captivity, aftermath of betrayal, brainwashed character

No one was happy about being taken by Villain. The whole group was locked up in a cell together. Except for Hero.

They didn’t know what had happened to Hero. They’d been with the rest of the group when everyone was captured, hadn’t they? The teammates couldn’t help but worry that Hero had been taken by their nemesis for some special torment. How cruel that would be, when Hero had only just escaped Villain.

Their worries were addressed in a way that yielded more questions than answers when Villain walked into the prison, accompanied by an expressionless Hero.

“Well, isn’t that a gorgeous sight. The entire hero team locked up in my clutches,” Villain grinned from outside their cell.

No one on the team was focused on the gloating. “Hero?” Teammate asked uncertainly.

Hero didn’t answer. Didn’t even give them a look.

“I wouldn't expect much from them,” Villain said. “If they were still your buddy, you wouldn't be trapped here.”

Of course: normally Hero should have fought Villain and freed their friends. But they’d only just escaped a harrowing experience with the villain, so surely they couldn’t be blamed for taking the safe route instead. “We’ll get out, and then we’ll free Hero from you!”

Villain laughed. “No you won’t. How do you think I took down your base?”

“I don’t know. You shouldn’t have been able to unless—it was an inside job,” it hit one of the heroes, the realization accompanied by shock and horror.

Villain smirked. “Like I said. You wouldn’t be here if your beloved Hero were still on your side.”

“It’s got to be a trick!” Sidekick cried, at the same time as Teammate turned to Hero and asked, “Is it really true?”

Hero didn’t say anything, which most of the group took as answer enough. Cries of outrage and confusion sounded, and Villain smiled as they started to walk away, leaving the captives to chew on that one.

Before Hero could follow Villain out the door, a member of the hero team called to them, "At least tell us why you did it. You owe us that much."

"Oh, sure," Villain piped up from the doorway. "Tell them why you did it."

"I was ordered to do it, so I did," Hero said flatly. 

"It really is that simple for you, isn't it?" Villain grinned. 

"Yes sir."

“What’s going on here? Since when do you take orders from them?” another hero demanded.

“Since they fixed me.”

Sidekick whipped towards Villain. “What did you do to them!?”

Villain swaggered back to where Hero was standing. “Got them working properly. You see, your dear Hero belongs to me now.” They patted Hero's cheek, drawing a snarl from Sidekick but no reaction from Hero. 

“No they don't! You can't get away with this,” Medic said.

“Oh, but it really seems I can. In case you hadn't noticed, the people best equipped to stop me are locked in a cell.” Villain rapped on the bars separating them. 

Sidekick lunged towards them but Villain withdrew out of reach before they could touch them.

“I’ll be seeing you lot soon. I’m not nearly done with you.” And with that threatening message, the villain went out the door.  

Taglist: @whumpsoda, @kitchenwhump

[getawayfox]

What are your favorite Drarry getting together scenarios or tropes?

Hi Anon! I’m sorry it’s taken me forever to answer this but as soon as I started thinking about your question, lots of my favourite fics started popping into my head, and well. Here we are with a full-on reclist. To give you an answer: my favourite get-together fics tend to be low on angst and high on banter, full of longing and mutual pining, UST, and more often than not, laugh-out-loud funny. If Drarry are a bit older in the fic, I will love the author forever and ever. So here, have a list of exactly that:

Etched, Curled, Stationed by @tepre [T, 1,8k]

The day Draco Malfoy turned 21 was the day that 12 Grimmauld Place had decided, with all the grand and pointed fanfare that a house could manage, that it was him that was its rightful owner.

Per my last letter (I hope you choke on it) by @fluxweeed, lastontheboat [T, 10k]

Dear Mr Potter, The answer is, and will remain, a no. Sincerely, Draco Malfoy Accounts Manager, Phoenix Press Or: the one where Harry has writer’s block and Malfoy isn’t helping.

the long ways by @oknowkiss [M, 10k]

Five times Harry thought he was seeing Draco for the last time, and one time he didn’t. OR: what it’s like to fall in love, slowly and without realizing it, over the course of 20 years.

Poppiholla by @moonflower-rose [M, 13k]

Harry had accepted that he would pine silently for Malfoy forever, but one, humid summer might change that.

Stupid Love by @the-sinking-ship [E, 17k]

Harry Potter, how does Draco Malfoy hate thee? Let me count the ways.

The Frisky Furnishings of Malfoy Manor by @writcraft [M, 20k]

The course of true love never did run smooth. Or: Hermione has a crafty plan, Harry and Draco are fake boyfriends and wizarding traditions have a lot to answer for. Featuring awkward dates, mince pies, a saucy sofa and a line of sequined house-elf haute couture nobody asked for but got anyway.

if you’ve changed your mind by warmfoothills [E, 20k]

The first Draco knows of the whole thing is Harry Potter standing in his broom shed.

Romp and Circumstance by @wolfpants [E, 35k]

Since the war, Harry Potter has gone from Saviour to Scoundrel—not that he’s complaining. With a schedule full of gorgeous men, alcohol, and late nights, why would he want to change? Enter Draco Malfoy: beautiful, sharp, and completely untouchable. When Draco comes to Harry with a proposition to help him attract an engagement, Harry’s up for it—after all, how hard can it be not falling for his former nemesis? Very hard, apparently.

The Four Ds of Apparition (or: Destination, Determination, Deliberation, and Dicks) by eidheann, firethesound [E, 37k]

After transferring to the Apparition Department, Harry's life becomes one big dick joke. And all his friends are arseholes. So is Malfoy, but what else is new? AKA Harry Potter and the eighteen twenty dicks.

[whattraintracks]

Good Genes - Part 1 & 2

part one:

LH's opening is breaking my heart

Bishop: Stockman! Why aren't you solving the problems I caused??

but deadpan because that's how Bishop says stuff

Bishop and his fancy room for taking calls

who's the creepy comm ghost?

Leo has kept his cool so well since he got back from Japan

until now T^T

this is so so so reminiscent of the mind probe scene aaaaaaaaaa

something about the order of their shoulders falling at the reference to Don's double mutation is itching my brain (Leo who makes the ref, then Raph a second after Leo's, and Mikey a few moments after)

we gotta get somewhere fast. let's fly Don's helicopter!

okay, do any of you know how to fly Don's helicopter?

does Don even know how to fly Don's helicopter?

all good questions! they'll get back to you after they fly Don's helicopter to get where they need to go =D

we should all pay way more attention to when Mikey says he has a bad feeling about something

remember kids, it's important to growl before you draw your weapons

(why did they do that?? what happened to my quick draw ninja?!)

Bishop: is this necessary?

yes, for the plot

this arc really said let's traumatise Don and retraumatise LH

holy frick, the back and forth shots of Leo tranqing Don as Don runs toward him is devastatingly intense

Leo looks so serious and the music

oh YES love how, when Bishop straight up lies to them, both Splinter AND Mikey give him highly skeptical looks

the overdramatic shock on everyone's face is when Bishop says Karai is comedy gold

part two:

"a wise man once said"

why is it always men, Leo? maybe it was a wise woman or—

Han Solo??????

what a dork. quoting star wars as if it's such great wisdom

(sidenote, I guess the first one to say the bad feeling line in og was Luke but Han says it twice AND Leia says it too so HAH)

"it's an impossible mission"

Leo you, with your fam and on your own, have literally infiltrated Foot Central before

like at least twice overall

ooh special agent turtles

(special agent Michelangelo! special agent Raphael!! please let them call themselves that they'll love it so much)

come on Casey, duh, April's too pretty to be a janitor

"Leonardo is here" call that nemesis-dar (rival-dar? foe-dar? being-you've-blamed-for-every-tragedy-in-your-life-dar? we'll workshop it)

very interested in the mystics' angle here

uh oh, Raph found some toys 🤣🤣🤣

"and we're backing up. and we're avoiding the obvious trap" Mikey the sole owner of the braincell

Raph, if you blow up all of your toys we aren't getting you new ones

love that Raph is the one Leo sends to figure out the machinery/tech/distraction with Don out of commission

haha wizard of oz ref (not my brain going from there to -> dorothy+tornado -> twisters)

Mikey successfully wields the braincell to keep Leo from showing down with Karai

well done Michelangelo

LH: demonstrates his usefulness to Bishop

Bishop: starts calling him Mr. Leatherhead instead of animal

yeah hmm don't like how icky that makes me feel

naked Donny lol

BISHOP GOT PLAYED

the mystics got upgrades

the true who now? Oh dear

[call-sign-shark]

Heyy how are u?

Can u please write an enemies-with-benefits/rivals x lovers prompt where they are always completing but have too much sexual tension based on this -

➢ "How adorable, your legs are shaking... Where is that prideful look of yours now?"

With hangman or rooster 😩

Idk if this sounds kinda stupid 😭

Hey dear, your request is far from being stupid. I loved it :D ! It even gave me the idea of doing 7 one-shots revolving around the Seven Deadly Sins, all related to a TGM character. ANYWAY, I hope you'll like it 💚

✨SUPERBIA ✨

Summary: You beat your forever rival, Hangman, for the first time since you became a Dagger. Hurt in his ego, he decides to humble you. (Callsign: Nemesis)

Tags: 2.3k words of Unresolved sexual tension !! like high sexual tension to torture you

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Dagger’s results

1# Nemesis

2# Hangman

3# Phoenix & Bob

The number one was written beside your call sign with a thick black marker. 

Your fingers gently brushed the whiteboard’s cold and smooth surface, for you still could not realize your position among the other aviators.  A glimmer of pride shone in your Y/EC eyes as you read the other names on the list. Ranked right below you was Jake “Hangman” Seresin, your forever rival. A small satisfied smirk stretched your lips at the mere thought of beating Seresin. When Maverick first introduced the idea of ranking your performances daily, you were one of the few who disagreed. To be honest, even though you liked challenges you did not want to compete against the own member of your squad. According to your instructor, the board had nothing to do with competition but was about being aware of everyone’s progress. For most of the Daggers, Maverick’s idea was indeed a great one and helped them realize how they managed to progress throughout the weeks, but for Hangman and you it rapidly became a ground for competition. Day after day, Seresin beat you. Whether it was his tricks being better, his reflexes being sharper or his aim being more precise, he was always one step ahead.  And each time you looked at his name on the whiteboard with frustration, he would give you his cocky flat-lipped smile and tell you “How’s the rearview, babe?” . And each time, his words would feel like a knife stabbing your pride.  You did not care about being the less skilled of the group, as long as Hangman sucked more.

Jake stepped behind you, looking at the whiteboard - you were shorter than him, so looking above your head was clearly not a problem for him. He raised one eyebrow at the result of today’s training. Maverick was certainly wrong, you could not have been better than he, could you? His jaws tensed as he stared at his own ranking.

“Hey, Bagman.” You called him.

He looked at you, one brow still raised.

“How’s the rearview, babe?” 

“Is that all you have to say?” His voice retorted, colder than a frozen blizzard.

Jake had lost all of his arrogance in one blink of an eye, all remained was anger. To be true, you expected him to come up with some sharp comments or tell you that your success was only a matter of beginner’s luck. His bitter and quite aggressive reaction kind of confused you. He glared at you one last time instead and stormed out of the hangar with furious steps. 

“The hell is his problem?”  Shark asked, alongside Phoenix. They had just joined to congratulate your spectacular performance.

You shrugged, your pride quickly erasing any concern you had, “Nothing. Little Seresin got hurt in his pride and is probably sulking now.”  

The girls could not help but laugh at your sass: you were incredibly good at spitting sarcastic poison sometimes, and they liked it. Phoenix made a brief hand gesture to tell you to forget about Hangman, “Never mind Queen. You did a great job at humbling him.”

“I hope you don’t boast about your performance but rather give advice to each other.” A manly yet soft voice resonated behind you and your girl gang. You all turned around as one.

Captain Maverick was standing behind you, arms behind his back. His green eyes shone with a glimmer of amusement.

“Yeah, of course, Nemesis was telling us how to beat Hangman,” Shark exclaimed, bubbly. You nudged her and she let a small ouch escape from her mouth.

“Of course not, Mav”

“Good," He said, looking a bit more sharply at Shark, then his focused shift back on you "Y’all should leave, tomorrow’s going to be a big and exhausting day, so rest well.” 

You and the girls nodded and went back to your chair to pack your stuff and go. 

“Nemesis. One last thing,”  Mav called you. 

You looked at him above your shoulder.

“Well done.” 

“Thanks, Sir.”  Your voice answer, candy-coated in pride.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The adrenaline of today’s training had begun to fade away, leaving a pleasant floating sensation in both your mind and body. Leaving the hangar in such a good mood was not something you were used to. In fact, Hangman always managed to get on your nerves one way or another. Fortunately enough, you found a way to relieve the stress: sex. Rough, steamy, and kinky sex. What was surprising in that coping mechanism of yours was the person you ended up having sex with was none other than your enemy himself. Admittedly, that was kind of weird but from your mutual hatred, a consuming desire came to life. The sexual tension that appeared between you from day one had soon grown out of control, that was when you more or less consciously decided to become rivals with benefits. During the day you were always competing, fighting, and trying to become better than the other.  But during sleepless nights - and hidden from the world’s view- you were lovers. And the fact that Hangman was the best stallion you ever encountered was a pill very hard to swallow.

While you were lost in your thoughts and making your way to the shower, two large and powerful hands grabbed your wrists and brutally pinned you against the corridor’s wall. You opened your eyes wide, heart pounding so hard in your chest that you felt like it was about to burst your ribcage.  Jake was standing fierce, blocking your body between his and the wall.  His green eyes dove into yours, fury burning in his irises.

“Was it fun?” He stated, icecold. 

You winced, moving your wrists in a vain attempt of freeing yourself “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Was it fun to laugh at me, Nemesis?”  His grip tightened on your wrist, causing the position to become uncomfortable.

“So that’s the problem! Hangman can laugh at people but when someone returns the favor it’s not fun anymore. Grow up Jake, that’s not how it works.” You hissed, as fierce as him. Kowtowing was out of question, “I beat the fuck out of you and you better get used to it, ‘cause it will happen again.”  

“She bites,” he said, bringing his face closer to yours. He stayed like that for a while, silent as his warm lips brushed yours. His scorching breath crashed on your face as furious waves breaking against the shore. You swallowed, intoxicated with the exhilarating smell of his cologne mixed with the back scent of his musky sweat. Arousal built in your body. 

“Yes I bite, but you know it, don’t you Seresin?” Your voice was merely a whisper. Still grazing his lips with yours, you lick the corner of his mouth in a soft, light stroke. A shiver ran down Jake’s spine.  His breath, at first steady, quickened and you could not help but teasingly smile when noticing it. You were giving him hell and you were determined to continue to do so. Even though your wrists were pinned above your head, you brought your hips closer to his until your bodies met.

“Challenging me again, Nemesis. When will you learn?” He gritted between his teeth at the sensation of your body collapsing with his.

“I never learn,” You said, giving another warm lick across his lips. You gently rolled your hips and sighed, for you could feel the shape of his bulge pressing against you.

“Fucking bitch,” He released your wrists from one of his hands, but the other was still strongly holding you. Jake was a strong man, thus overcoming you physically was not difficult for him. “I think you really need an ego check,” he concluded. 

“Are you really sure I’m the one who needs an ego check?” Words fell from your mouth with fire, but the look Jake gave you was ice-cold water that managed to extinguish you.

 You stopped talking, apprehending his next move. As ironic as it seemed, your pride seemed far too insolent in his opinion and he was determined to humble you… In the kinkiest way you could think of. Jake’s fingers tightened around your neck just enough for you to feel their pressure on your throat without it being uncomfortable.

“You… tear down my reason,” he did not let you the time to answer, for his lips captured yours. You closed your eyes at this brutal reunion, blood rushing to your cheeks, heart beating faster. Jake dove his tongue into your mouth to seek yours, forcing you to part your lips. You hold back your moans as your tongues swiftly danced together in a burning waltz. The taste of your divine lips lighted up fireworks under his skin. He could feel his hard cock twitching as your sweet saliva melted together. He released your throat only to grab one of your breasts in his large calloused hand, kneading him with desire. He pinched your perky nipple and rolled it between his thumb and index finger. The sharp but pleasurable pinching sensation made you sigh in arousal against his mouth. Burning breathing, wet kisses, his hand unzipped your overalls. The soft caress of fresh air against your moist skin made your very soul quake.

He moved his head back, breaking your hungry kisses, and stared at you. Your cheeks were red, your gaze begging and your lips parted for you were panting. Jake snorted, satisfied.

“Why are you looking at me like that, Nemesis? Want something?” He said, his face enlightening up with that peculiar cocky smile of his. A smile so big that his malicious eyes squinted. His free hand started to wander on your burning skin.

“Fuck Jake, I want you.” You muttered, trying to kiss him again but he backed his head off again. You hissed when you missed his lips.

“Come on, you think you deserved to have your pussy filled after what you said to me? After breaking my records?” He laughed - a sadistic and exaggerated laugh whose only purpose was to humiliate you. Jake’s free hand grabbed one of your wrists and brought your hand to his shaft. Your slit drooled when you noticed how hard he was. You gently moved your trembling fingers on it - if you focused well enough you could even feel the swollen veins that were drawing patterns on his erection, “open my overall.”

You obeyed, grabbing the zipper between your fingers. With Jake leading your hand, you unzipped and freed his muscular chest from the fabric that was hiding it. You bit your lips at the sight of his pecs and abs, glistening with his sweat because of a long day of training. How much you wanted to lick his body and bite his skin from there to here, but he was still holding you against the wall firmly.

“Touch it.” He whispered in your ear, and you knew what he meant.

Heat spread under your skin. You felt his green eyes on you, undressing you. Those two burning emerald stones.  But as much as he wanted you, he was not going to indulge. Obeying him again, your hand slipped into his underwear and grabbed the thick base of his cock. Jake grunted with pleasure at the sensation of your warm palm around him.

“See how you make it hard.” He said. At his words, you lowered your gaze and bit your lip when looking at the thick pinkish head, glistening with precum.  You squeezed your thighs together, feeling a surge of unbearable arousal in your dripping cunt, “I could rub it in your wet folds first to lubricate it properly… Your swollen clit would love that,” He whispered, gently biting your earlobe, “And then I could fill you with one big thrust, hitting that spot you like so much. You know, the one that makes your toes curl.” 

At this point, you drank his words. Your hand made up and down movements, stroking his cock shyly. He held back his moans, not wanting to give you any satisfaction. You could barely breathe - mouth dry, soul quaking - all you could think of was him. 

“You know, I’d love to feel your tight walls around my dick. That wet and warm sensation of you all around me, your pussy fluttering with pleasure. But you’ve been such a bad girl.”  He kept torturing you with his arousing words, to the point you lose all your composure. Jake suddenly backed off with one sudden movement, leaving you destroyed by the coiling tension between you. You looked at him, confused, as he zipped his overall to the top, depriving you of the wonderful sight of his hairy chest.

“And the bad girl you are don’t deserve my dick. We’ll see tomorrow if I’ll change my mind. But you’ll have to be extra nice to me.” He stated, smoothing his overalls with his hands.

“But- Jake-” You tried to bargain but he cut you off.

“End of the conversation, Nemesis.” 

You hit the back of your head against the wall behind you in frustration, goosebumps all over your body and nerves on fire. Saying you were wet down there would be a euphemism, you were dripping, almost literally flooded. You could feel your heartbeat in your swollen clit - all your body was screaming with arousal. You pressed one of your cold hands against your forehead, your legs threatening you to collapse as Jake proceeded with leaving the corridor. But before disappearing, he glanced at you with his wide flat-lipped smile.

“How adorable your legs are shaking,” He stated, amused. You looked at him with begging eyes and it made him even more satisfied, “Where is that prideful look of yours now?"

Hell had a ring for each deadly sins,

For Lucifer, Superbia was a frozen lake.

But for you, 

It was Jake Seresin. 

[muthaz-rapapa]

Hirogaru Sky Final Impressions (5/5)

Honestly, what were they going to do with those two weeks after 48 episodes? Have us wait until WonPre's broadcast? Yea right, lol

So the 20th installment of Precure is now officially finished and it feels both great and a little bit sad to say that since the bar has been readjusted quite high, we will probably need the 25th anniversary to get another season as awesome and well-written as HiroPre. [/harsh]

But that will be for something to worry about in the next five years.

So first, that finale!

Pretty much 5(ish) of the 6 last episodes was a whole arc dedicated to the most engaging lore Precure has ever given us to date.

Cure Noble is definitely entering the league of legacy Cures and perhaps as the one with the best story as well. How she went from princess-sovereign to becoming the very first Precure (in this universe, anyways) to helping pave a way for peace with her nemesis to laying out the foundation for the Cures who will succeed her in the future.

Yeap, Ellee-chan may have gotten a nice age-up bonus so that we can see her embrace her destiny and actually converse in something other than baby talk.

But it's more accurate to say that Ellee-chan/Cure Majesty's character arc is really Princess Elleelain/Cure Noble's instead.

Which is totally fine with me. Not only was Elleelain super interesting as a hero/protagonist in her own era but Kaiserin was...dear god.

Dear god, when have we gotten a twist that was this good and this dark by the series' standards? I felt we haven't touched this level of grim writing since Heartcatch and that was my first Precure season ever.

But seriously, it's impossible not to sympathize with Kaiserin and appreciate how much she contributed to the plot as well as this season's message that power is not what makes a hero, but the strength of one's heart that does.

Even her traitorous tutor, Skearhead, said she had what it took to become a hero (and maybe even Precure? oooh~), which just makes her fall into darkness more tragic.

But thankfully, she never lost her kindness and compassion, which was what ultimately allowed her to not only be saved but her wounds to finally heal after hundreds of years of suffering from the pain of betrayal Skearhead had inflicted on her.

And that her generals, who all turned over a new leaf, came back to the Undergu Empire to loyally serve her and make sure she isn't alone...

Good! This is so satisfying, I couldn't have asked for anything better! Kaiserin deserves her happiness after all she's been through!

But of course, that's not all because no Precure finale is complete without the last episodes dishing out the best combat scenes of the entire season and did it deliver, alright.

Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-HUH!

The animation was absolutely stellar and not so overdone that it'd look more gaudy than cool. coughDeliPaPrecough

Moreover, the teamwork is what really sold the animation. As it should because Precure is all about that team effort brought on by personal growth, not a one-man show.

I loved how Wing, representing wisdom, was the one everyone trusted to get that barrier back up because it is a mechanism that he researched and developed to help everyone. It proves that boys don't need to fit into a specific mold of masculinity or genius to be a hero because in the end, those things don't matter. It's being true to yourself, your beliefs and your dreams and what you choose to do with those abilities that counts.

I loved how Butterfly, who is physically the strongest in the group, always takes on the tougher tasks such as facing the army of tedious mooks to let those younger than her forge a path ahead. She never forgets her responsibility as an adult to protect the kids but she also encourages them to move forward because she fully believes in them like a good adult would.

I loved how Majesty comes to understand that though she's meant to inherit Cure Noble's will and power and position as Skyland's princess, it's not her destiny to inherit Elleelain's loneliness. And the whole reason that she started out as a baby but was able to grow and become Precure was because she was surrounded by the right people who brought out that potential in her. For Ellee-chan, being with her friends and fighting alongside them was the bigger, more important destiny than her duty was.

Finally, the star duo of the show.

Sky was given stronger MC vibes than the other cast members but you can't deny that she wouldn't have gotten this far without Prism by her side.

Sora's idea of what it means to be hero expanded a lot because she became friends with Mashiro.

She has come to treasure Mashiro so much that when she was on the brink of losing her best friend, she let Skearhead corrupt her in order to have enough power to save that best friend. She was willing to sacrifice herself for someone important to her, which in a way, can be seen as an act of heroism (but only as a last resort, plz do not attempt).

And even then, Sky kept resisting from being taken over. Prism didn't even flinch when Sky aimed a punch at her. That's how much Mashiro believes in Sora, in the hero that Sora is. That even if Sora accepted darkness into herself to do the right thing, she won't ever let that darkness consume her into doing the wrong thing.

And the fact that it was Prism who had the ability to not only purify Sky but also heal Kaiserin's centuries-old wound. She's come a long way herself from the girl who used to think she was talentless, who didn't believe she had anything special going for her.

"You are good as you are now, Mashiro-san."

What Sora said was true until the very end. Mashiro didn't ever need to change. She was already good enough and she was always going to become even better than how she started out because she was always being inspired and supported by those around her and challenging herself to do things she initially hesitated on doing.

Now she's continually drawing new stories, even winning an award for one. Even her Prism Shot evolved and multiplied as an attack and it's all because she learned to believe in herself because all her friends believed in her.

This is essentially what sets Precure apart from the others, what makes it the major name it is in modern day mahou shoujo.

I cannot begin to describe how glad I am that the staff at Toei reinforced those aspects of friendship as well as the celebration of individualism in a milestone year. But I can definitely say with confidence that we can expect to see more well into the franchise's 30th anniversary as long they don't forget these two very crucial things.

As for me, I think this will be the last time I blog Precure on a "regular" basis.

I'll still continue to watch cuz hey, there's no reason for me to stop yet.

(and all the more reason to not stop if Satoru and Daifuku become the next two male Cures in WonPre OMGI'MSOGONNAJINXTHISAREN'TIBWUAHAHAHAHA!!!)

But my priorities have shifted so I gotta tend to those foremost. And as much as I enjoy the show, I feel like I'm always saying the same stuff over and over again anyway, just in different variations of it.

(also, something about WonPre tells me the next four years will be filled with hit-or-miss seasons so meh, I'd rather just follow it leisurely than get too invested and then disappointed)

On another note, I do have some personal rankings that I'd like to post some day. I was going to do it for the 20th anniversary but didn't have time to cuz life got way too hectic and busy but yea, eventually I'll have them up.

Just for fun, y'know.

Ok, that is all.

Thank you, my hero girls and boy! You made this season so wonderful hahahaha, good luck, WonPre for me and I can't be grateful enough for it.

Thank you for a beautiful anniversary! Let's aim for the next!

25th year with 100+ Precure!

Let's gooooooooooooo!!!

[lovebites-if]

Well, since it seems that you like sibling-related scenarios, dear author, I'll keep writing them as an offering before dumping next bunch of questions on you.

No matter how passive-agressive L gets with MC, they don't seem to be bothered by it at all. Even worse, it looks like MC is acting even friendlier towards them than anyone else. L didn't have any high expectations for a human's intelligence, but no one can actually be that oblivious, right? One day they finally snap and ask MC what exactly is wrong with them and in return get hit with "Oh, you remind me of how my younger sibling was in their teenage years :D" (I fear A will have to look for a new human for their office after that one 😔)

And onto questions:

1) Would it be possible to befriend ??? without romancing them? Can we, like, fix them platonically?

2) There's "First love" in Val's trope list, and I assume it stays true for both same- and different-gendered romance, so with them being demi, were people they dated before a case of keeping appearances in their younger ages or a "Yeah, this is probably what love feels like"? (Because if that's the latter - oof, same)

3) This isn't exactly a question, but N/Val poly with same-sex/nb MC sounds like a wild ride. Hey, do you want to not only question your sexuality, but also end up in a relationship with a human and your nemesis?

Omg that'd be enough for L to stop being passive aggressive and just be aggressive 😭 They tend to be easily annoyed (more easily*) by positive/cheerful MCs too.

L is a younger sibling so that'd one would hit specially close to home.

1) Would it be possible to befriend ??? without romancing them? Can we, like, fix them platonically?

I think it'd be possible! A bit harder because ??? doesn't open up as easily, but possible.

2) There's "First love" in Val's trope list, and I assume it stays true for both same- and different-gendered romance, so with them being demi, were people they dated before a case of keeping appearances in their younger ages or a "Yeah, this is probably what love feels like"? (Because if that's the latter - oof, same)

Actually, Val hasn't dated that many people overall! Mostly because they haven't had much genuine interest toward anyone, but I'd say that most of the time those relationships were out of convenience + not understanding their own sexuality.

3) This isn't exactly a question, but N/Val poly with same-sex/nb MC sounds like a wild ride. Hey, do you want to not only question your sexuality, but also end up in a relationship with a human and your nemesis?

Agreed!! I love this so much, just their entire lives being flipped upside down fkwkfkw

[snicketstrange]

"The TSS secret letter explained" theory

So, after many years, I can finally face my greatest nemesis again. The TSS secret letter. I think it is very appropriate to talk about it again here. There were many theories, and there were many discussions. And I think I found the best way to explain it. Let me copy the letter in full.

"My dear sister, I am taking a great risk in hiding a letter to you inside one of my books, but I am certain that even the most melancholy and well-read people in the world have found my account of the lives of the three Baudelaire children even more wretched than I had promised, and so this book will stay on the shelves of libraries, utterly ignored, waiting for you to open it and find this message. As an additional precaution, I placed a warning that the rest of this chapter contains a description of the Baudelaires’ miserable journey up the Vertical Flame Diversion, so anyone who has the courage to read such a description is probably brave enough to read my letter to you. I have at last learned the whereabouts of the evidence that will exonerate me, a phrase which here means “prove to the authorities that it is Count Olaf, and not me, who has started so many fires.” Your suggestion, so many years ago at that picnic, that a tea set would be a handy place to hide anything important and small in the event of a dark day, has turned out to be correct. (Incidentally, your other picnic suggestion, that a simple combination of sliced mango, black beans, and chopped celery mixed with black pepper, lime juice, and olive oil would make a delicious chilled salad also turned out to be correct.) I am on my way now to the Valley of Four Drafts, in order to continue my research on the Baudelaire case. I hope also to retrieve the aforementioned evidence at last. It is too late to restore my happiness, of course, but at least I can clear my name. From the site of V.F.D. headquarters, I will head straight for the Hotel Denouement. I should arrive by—well, it wouldn’t be wise to type the date, but it should be easy for you to remember Beatrice’s birthday. Meet me at the hotel. Try to get us a room without ugly curtains. With all due respect,

Lemony Snicket

P.S. If you substitute the chopped celery with hearts of palm, it is equally delicious."

Note again it:

1 - "My dear sister, I am taking a great risk in hiding a letter to you inside one of my books, but I am certain that even the most melancholy and well-read people in the world have found my account of the lives of the three Baudelaire children even more wretched than I had promised, and so this book will stay on the shelves of libraries, utterly ignored, waiting for you to open it and find this message."

Considerations: When Lemony wrote this letter, Kit was already dead. And Lemony probably knew it. As I already explained, Lemony published all his books over many years, even though he started writing TBB during the main events described in Asoue, he only managed to publish TBB a few years later, and after that each book took time for research and preparation of the manuscript, and the period of time between the publication of TRR and TMM was particularly long, what I call a great hiatus. This great hiatus lasted for many years. So Kit was certainly already dead when this letter was written. Lemony was doing some event confirmation research as he had access to the Baudelaires' writings which is where he discovered events that only the Baudelaires could know about from private conversations to what happened in the caravan in TSS (which Lemony explicitly did not find to be able to deduce what happened inside). This whole concept is very important to asoue, and it is clear that this was the author's intention in several parts of the story. So instead of undoing an important component to the story (the fact that Lemony is researching the past from his point of view while writing asoue) it is more logical to believe that the true recipient of the letter is not Kit Snicket, but rather someone who assumed her identity. After all, just like Count Olaf, Kit died on a desert island with few witnesses and her death was simply not a fact known to the general public until then. 

It is significant that Lemony explicitly spent several weeks searching for the caravan. It is already evident that the moment of search for the caravan cannot be the same moment that the main events of asoue are unfolding. Some people say that this letter was written during the main events of Asoue, but in this excerpt Lemony explicitly quotes what he had just written. So he's writing the letter right after writing about the Baudelaires' climb to the VFD base. And he could only have written this after having written everything he had written before. Lemony also hopes that the book will be published and will go to bookstores so that her "sister" will eventually find the book and read the message. It wouldn't make sense for all of this to happen in the few days that pass between the main events described in TSS and the main events described in TPP.

The meeting at Hotel D must be in a Hotel rebuilt after many years. 

2 -  (Incidentally, your other picnic suggestion, that a simple combination of sliced mango, black beans, and chopped celery mixed with black pepper, lime juice, and olive oil would make a delicious chilled salad also turned out to be correct.) 

This description of the salad is the same salad that Beatrice made, according to Lemony's memories. Evidently, this is evidence that points to a friendship between Beatrice and the true recipient of the letter. Canonically there is no evidence that Kit Snicket and Beatrice Baudelaire were close friends. On the other hand, canonically there is evidence that Beatrice and R were close friends in LSTUA and TBB. In fact, there is evidence in LSTUA that R had disguised himself as a member of the Snicket family previously. So, the person most likely to be the true recipient is R, not Kit. After all (it cannot be repeated enough) when Lemony wrote this letter, Kit had already been dead for many years. In fact, as I have shown previously, Beatrice JR's search for Lemony Snicket took place before Lemony published TWW, since the young girl was in Lemony's office in the building where Lemony lived (with a description identical to what Lemony described in TWW) she didn't recognize what the shape of the paperweight was. If Lemony had already published TWW, it is extremely likely that Beatrice Jr would have already read it because she is like a fan of Lemony, explicitly claiming to have read books that Lemony had already published. This shows so much that when Lemony published TWW Beatrice Jr had already been born many years ago and evidently Kit had been dead for many years, and when he published TSS, Kit had been dead even longer.

3 - "I am on my way now to the Valley of Four Drafts, in order to continue my research on the Baudelaire case"

When Lemony wrote this letter, he explicitly stated that he had not yet reached the Valley of Four Drafts. Evidently he is referring to the fact that he is writing many years after Asoue's main story took place and confirming the events little by little. He couldn't have not reached the Valley of Four Drafts and at the same time described the Baudelaires' ascent to the VFD base. In fact, by writing TSS so many years have passed that Lemony knows that if the women with their faces painted white died when they came down from the mountainous region, the rest of them were just bones. And when writing the ending of TSS, Lemony explicitly states that he spent some time collecting bones and taking them to a specialist. Evidently, Lemony's research to be able to write TSS took a long time. Imagine how strange it would be to do all this in time to show up at Hotel D a few days later!

[r0-boat]

Villain submas head cannons

I have priorities

CW: degrading and dirty talk are mentioned, it gets kinky, but everything is a consensual relationship between two villains and their beloved hero.

Sfw

World info:

World leaders, governments, and other higher up hire Heroes to combat world threats. What they don't know is that some of the heroes are villains and are dating each other. ( or they know and don't care, as long as they are stopping the problem, even if it's temporarily, LOL)

Villains doing their villain things is their actual job, and they have work hours off hours, vacations, and weekends, just like Heroes. Their main bases are not only their homes but their place of work when they are not being super villains; they're basically living like normal people.

Emmet

Alignment: chaotic evil

Emmet's evil schemes are like his art don't diss his art. He spends years perfecting each evil plan. Just to be foiled by the hero(you), hehe; it's not like he minds, though.

Once he's done with his evil scheme, he sends it to his brother

He crafts each evil scheme with your weaknesses and likeness in mind to show how much he loves you. Pretty much, he sees it like a date.

Has a minion Army of jail text each one has their own names, like Giovanni, he sits on a chair petting his galventula

Unlike ingo he likes causing chaos because he's bored.

Nothing Else Matters except his brother his Hero, and his army of joltics.

Unironically agrees with Megamind the presentation makes you a supervillain.

If he plans a juicy take over the world evil plan just to see some fucking hero that isn't you walking through his base, he just says screw it and throws the plans away for another day, making sure to kill the No Name hero in the process.

Emmet: "You like me, and you like that I'm evil" and you're angry because it's true

Ingo

Alignment: lawful evil

Some villains just don't have class, no dirty tricks and is willing to negotiate.

"I got to get ready. I'm supposed to face the hero in an epic battle; I hope they think I'm cool."

"Brother please stop antagonizing the citizens further we've already made our point"

Emmet may have planned this, but ingo is a force to be reckoned with; ingo not only knows and is responsible for executing the plans,

Ingo and Emmet plan together, but Emmet is usually seen on the front lines because Ingo has a nasty habit of doing villain monologues where he Reveals their entire project. So Ingo Works within the Shadows, ensuring everything goes according to plan.

Other villains are jealous of their relationship with their arch nemesis

Vilain: I'm so jealous of your relationship with your hero; mine is usually too tired for cuddle time afterward. They don't even come over on our days off.

Ingo: well... anyone would be tired after a long day of work Please make sure your hero gets plenty of rest time before you execute your plan. A key to any good relationship is communication. Do you have your hero's private number... No?... Oh, dear... If you want to have a special relationship with your Nemesis, make sure they know that they're special. I hope that helps

Villain: * writing on a notepad* yes! Thank you!

He will always leave you snacks in secret places for you to find just in case you get hungry trying to find him.

And always leaves at least some videotape or message praising you for getting out of a trap.

He's still working on his evil laugh.

Steals precious material just to make you jewelry you thank and kiss him but then threatened him to put it back.

Nsfw

Never opposed to railing you on the job. They always has condoms on them because of it.

Emmet absolutely loves taking you after he captures you. Watching you struggle against the shackles as he explains his plans with his cock deep inside of you.

No matter during work or in the bed you will always have a safe word.

Ingo drools at your hero costume wishing that you could step on him just once.

Emmet made executed his plan just for you to find rose petals leading to the bedroom yes this actually happened; you're starting to think he makes some of these just to get your attention, then yes, yes, he does...

They Always always asks for your consent before doing any darker role-play kinks.

Don't mind Emmet's harsher degrading and dirty talk he'll never actually mean it, he likes the immersion.

They almost had a sex dungeon they only didn't do it because they would have a lot of explaining to do if, someone other than you raids their main base.

Emmet may or may not have a collar made with (insert your Heroes weakness here)

During after work hours or on their days off they still hit you up for you to come over and have couple time ; )

[ivpapaemeritusiv]

We Will Break Away Together

Summary: In this chapter, Swiss and Papa prepare to join Sister in eliminating the dangerous members of the clergy who pose a threat to their lives. Addy battles to break free from the emotional chains of her past, while Swiss grapples with the uncertainties of his future. Their struggles intertwine as they face the looming danger together, each dealing with their inner turmoil while gearing up for the impending confrontation.

Word Count: 2,700

Sister and Copia sat in their office plotting the cult's downfall. "I know them," Sister said, "They will never expect an attack from within the circle. We shall keep the weaker among them and smite the founders."

"What about Psaltarian?"

She placed a hand under her chin, "Psaltarian is a friend. True, he does not like the idea of you being Papa for very long but I think he is harmless. We will let him live."

Copia nodded his head. He was never intent on murdering people, but he'd do anything to save his family. "How do you suppose we carry out this plan, Sister?"

She smiled, cleverly, "The same way I killed Nihil's sons."

Copia sank in his seat, "You? You killed Nihil's sons?" A shiver ran down his spine as Sister's grin did not falter.

"I will stop at nothing to put you at the top, my boy."

Sister Imperator outlined her chilling plan, detailing how she would summon her most loyal followers and some of the ghouls who often handled the clergy's dirtiest tasks. Papa knew Swiss would be among them. "We will host a grand dinner," she began, her voice dripping with malice. "As they revel in what they believe to be a moment of camaraderie, our operatives will strike. They will swiftly and silently stab each target in the neck with a syringe, injecting a potent poison. The victims will be left to endure an excruciatingly painful death, right under our watchful eyes."

Papa shivered at the woman's heinous plan. "My Satan, mother, you are evil."

She laughed, her eyes gleaming with malice. "When they are gone, you and I will run this ministry together. Just don't tell your idiot father. He'll ruin it all."

At that moment, none other than Nihil appeared, his presence casting a shadow over the room. "Don't tell me what, Seestor?" he asked, his voice dripping with suspicion.

She quickly masked her true intentions, looking at him with adoring eyes. "Oh, nothing, Papa. Just that you are the most talented and handsome man, so sensitive, so passionate, so hot..." she trailed off, her breath becoming heavy with feigned admiration.

Papa Nihil, completely taken by her flattery, responded, "And you, Seestor, are the most beautiful creature I've ever laid eyes upon. One touch from you can make me—"

"OK!" Copia interjected, unable to bear the scene any longer. "I'm out of here. I don't need to see this."

As he hurried away, Imperator called after him, "Cardi, remember what I told you, dear boy."

"Yeah, yeah... I got it," he replied, quickening his pace to escape the intimate and unsettling exchange between his parents.

*

The plan was set, and it was time for Papa to send his beloved children to his nemesis. Elizabeth, as always, had something to say on the matter. "Daddy, how long will we be at your ghoul's house? It's quite a simple place, isn't it? He doesn't even have servants, and I'm accustomed to the finer things, you know?"

"Elizabeth," Kaisarion interjected, "Don't be so snooty."

"I'm not snooty!" she retorted at her brother, and then bringing her attention back to her father, "But shall we bring our nanny?"

"Oh yes!" Addeline quickly added, "We will most definitely bring the nanny."

"Now, Amore," Papa addressed his wife, "Can I trust you at Swiss's?"

"Yes, Papa," she responded, "How could you even ask me something like that?"

"Addy," his tone was stern, "It will not be just me you hurt if you cross any lines."

Addy nodded, understanding that Copia was talking about Aurora. She knew that Aurora would be devastated if anything happened between them again. The memory of Aurora's plea after Faith was born resurfaced vividly. Aurora had come to her, eyes filled with desperation, begging her not to call upon Swiss. At the time, Addy was conflicted, unsure of her own feelings. But now, she could see the depth of Aurora's love for the man.

"I understand, Papa," she replied softly.

*

Swiss was in the kitchen when the phone rang. It was Papa, telling him that it was time. The ghoul confirmed the plan and slowly placed the phone back onto the receiver, his face clouded with a somber expression. The weight of the conversation hung heavily in the air as he heard Aurora approaching, her voice a melodic contrast to his troubled thoughts. She was chattering away about something, but his mind was elsewhere, unable to grasp her words. In her usual cheery manner, she walked up to the fridge, pulling out a beer while still speaking animatedly.

When she finally caught sight of Swiss's grave expression, her demeanor shifted to one of concern. "What is it?" she asked, setting the beer on the table with a soft clink.

Swiss looked at her with a heavy heart, his eyes reflecting the turmoil within. "Aurora, I need to ask you to do something... and I don't think you're going to be entirely thrilled."

She shook her head, stepping closer to him with a mix of curiosity and worry. "What? What is it?"

He sighed deeply, the sound filled with the weight of unspoken words, and took a step back from her. "Liv, I have to ask you to go home."

Her concerned expression quickly morphed into one of aggravation. "Go home? Why?" She already had an inkling of the reason but needed to hear him say it. "Why, Jutty?"

He remained silent, his gaze unwavering. Aurora placed her hands on her hips, looking down as she processed his request. She exhaled sharply, a sarcastic smile tugging at her lips. "I don't believe this. It's Addeline, isn't it?"

Swiss didn't know how to respond. He just continued to look at her, his silence confirming her suspicion. Aurora let her head fall back, rotating her neck to crack it a few times, trying to release the tension that had settled in her shoulders.

"I can't believe you're asking me to go," Aurora snapped at Swiss, her voice trembling with a mix of disdain and confusion, "I mean... I thought your home was my home. We're having a baby for God sakes."

"Liv, baby, it's only because I need to tell her about our kid," Swiss replied, his tone soft but firm, trying to calm the storm brewing within her.

Aurora stood in front of him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She clutched his hands tightly, as if afraid he might slip away. "I understand, but..."

"But what?" Swiss pressed, his eyes searching hers for the unspoken fear.

"Jutty, I love you so much. I need you like I've never needed anyone else," she confessed, her voice breaking. "But I don't think you love me the same. I think you love her more. I'm scared you'll..." Her voice trailed off, choked by the weight of her insecurities.

Swiss, sensing her turmoil, gently placed his palms on her stomach, feeling the life they had created together. His eyes softened with an intense, unwavering devotion. "Olivia, don't ever for a moment think that you aren't the most important woman in my life," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "I care for Addy and her safety. I love her as the mother of my child, but you? Liv, you mean everything to me. Trust me when I say nothing will happen."

The room seemed to hold its breath as his words hung in the air, a promise wrapped in the tender embrace of his touch. Aurora's fears began to melt away, replaced by the warmth of his reassurance, "Okay," she replied.

"Besides," he attempted to joke, "There are going to be eight kids in the house. How would we do anything with that many munchkins running around?"

She nudged him playfully, "Soon to be nine."

"Yes, my love, soon to be nine," he echoed, a soft smile touching his lips.

"I know you won't tell me what's going to happen, but I trust you're going to be safe? I don't want to raise this baby alone," she said, her voice tinged with a mix of concern and hope.

Swiss pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her protectively. "I promise, Liv, I'll do everything in my power to come back to you and our baby. You won't have to do this alone."

*

Hauling Addeline and all of his children in one vehicle was no easy feat. Papa had the nanny drive a car as well with the youngest ones, while he and Addy drove the older children. Once they arrived at Swiss's house, Elizabeth, Kaisarion, Opus, and Cirice tumbled out of the car, racing towards him.

"Swiss!" shouted Kaisarion, "Can we play cards?"

"No!" Elizabeth countered, "He's going to play world domination with me!"

"Hey kiddos," Swiss greeted, his eyes lighting up as he saw them. He looked up at Addeline, who was walking toward him with Faith in her arms.

"Hey you," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Need me to grab anyone?"

"Yes," she replied, a hint of relief in her voice. "As a matter of fact, can you get Mary out of the car? I think Papa has Belial."

Swiss clapped his hands and rubbed them together, a playful grin spreading across his face. "I'm on it, darlin'."

Swiss noticed Opus wandering off with his sister. "Hey, hey!" the ghoul yelled, "In the house, guys!" Papa wouldn't admit it, but he was thankful for the extra set of hands. Once everyone was inside, Papa pulled Addy into a kiss, not holding back the passion. He couldn't resist the urge to assert his dominance in front of his wife's former lover. Swiss, catching the display, rolled his eyes in mild annoyance.

He released Addy from his grasp and shot Swiss a knowing stare. "Don't forget the plan, ghoul," he commanded, his voice dripping with authority. Swiss locked eyes with Emeritus, his gaze steady and confident, and gave a subtle wink that seemed to say, "I've got this."

The hours of the day passed with Swiss getting a firsthand experience of what it was like to parent eight children. Despite the help of the nanny, he found himself constantly on the move—making food, wiping noses, giving bottles, washing hands, playing dolls, and even pretending to be a peasant in Elizabeth's game of Kings and Queens. By evening, he was utterly exhausted. Once all the children were finally asleep, he collapsed onto the couch, his shallow breaths a testament to the day's hard work.

Addeline walked in and laughed at the sight. "Kids, huh?"

He locked eyes with her, raising his eyebrows sarcastically. "I don't know how you do it, Addy."

"And you wanted to take us all and run away with us," she teased.

The mood shifted from lighthearted to heavy. His smile faded, replaced by a look of earnestness. "Addeline, I would have taken you guys away. I meant that."

With a heavy heart, she stared at the floor as she walked over to him. She let herself plop down beside him, the weight of their unspoken emotions settling between them.

"But it's too late now, isn't it?" Addy asked, not expecting him to answer. She continued, "Now that Aurora is pregnant."

A look of shock overtook Swiss's face. She knew. He couldn't believe she already knew.

"Addy," he began, "How did--"

"Swiss, I've been pregnant seven times. You don't think I can spot another pregnant woman? You sending her inside with the ridiculous oversized hoodie was an insult to my intelligence."

His expression was overtaken by angst. "I was waiting on the right time to tell you."

"I knew you were just trying to protect my heart. It's okay."

He took the woman's hands into his. They looked at each other for a long while without breaking eye contact.

"Hey, remember what we used to do on this couch?" she broke the silence.

He laughed, trying not to reminisce too much. He could already feel himself becoming aroused by thoughts of the past. But he made a promise to Aurora, and he wasn't going to break that. He broke their gaze and explained, "I need to get ready."

She shook herself out of the heat of the moment and brought herself back to reality and the task at hand.

"You're really not going to tell me what you and the Cardinal have planned?"

Swiss shook his head gently. "I think it's better if you don't know. You and the children will be safe here while Copia and I make the ministry safe for you there."

Addy nodded, still gazing at him with a mix of curiosity and concern. "I'm tired. I think I'm going to go to bed. Tuck me in? No funny business, I swear."

Swiss laughed as he stood up, pulling Addy along with him. "I'll show you to your room. You already know I don't live in a big ministry with a hundred rooms, so you're bunking with your little dictator."

Addy chuckled, "Elizabeth is something special. She's going to be somebody one day, you know?"

"I don't doubt it for a second," Swiss replied as he led her into a cozy room. "All three babies are in here too, just in case you need to feed them during the night."

As Addy looked around the room, a wave of worry washed over her. The reality of the impending plan, whatever it was, began to sink in. She felt a growing concern for Swiss, for Papa, and for their future. The thought of everything going wrong and leaving her as a widow weighed heavily on her mind.

She threw herself into Swiss's arms and held him tight. "Please, be careful. Please protect Papa. Don't let anything happen to him."

He pulled her closer to his chest, letting his face nuzzle into the crook of her neck. He inhaled deeply; the sweet aroma of incense lingered in her hair. "I won't let anything happen to him, Addeline. I swear."

Her scent was intoxicating, like quicksand pulling him deeper into a whirlpool of desire. Every breath he took was filled with her essence, trapping him in a haze of lustful thoughts. He wanted to devour her, to lose himself in the moment. He inhaled deeply, noticing that he had given her goosebumps.

In one swift motion, he lifted her effortlessly, cradling her as tenderly as he would his own child. Her head rested against his chest, and she could feel the rapid thumping of his heart. His hand slid under her rump, gripping it firmly as he bent to lay her gently on the bed. As he straightened, he felt Addy's hands clasp around his neck with surprising strength. She gazed up at him, her eyes filled with adoration and longing.

He chuckled softly, a thought crossing his mind that he could take her right then and there. She wouldn't resist, he knew. She would welcome him, savoring every moment of what he would do to her. But he didn't want to complicate things for her. He knew she had found solace in her relationship with the Cardinal, and he didn't want to disrupt that peace.

With a gentle touch, he pried her hands from his neck and laid them softly on the bed beside her. He leaned down, his lips brushing her forehead in a tender kiss, a silent promise of restraint and respect.

With a final, reassuring look, he left to make his way to Meliora's room. Stepping carefully over Opus, Cirice and Kaisarion who were sprawled out on the floor, he approached the toddler's crib.

He stared at the child, a smile tugging at his lips as he admired the features that mirrored his own. This little boy was his shining light through all the darkness. As thoughts of the woman who had given him such a precious gift filled his mind, he wondered if he would feel the same about Aurora and the new baby. Would there be enough love in his heart?

In that moment, he made a solemn vow: he would return. He wouldn't let the clergy get the better of him. He would help Papa take them out one by one and come back to the things that mattered most to him.

[pico-digital-studios]

Into, Across and Beyond!: Where it Began / One More Chance

Sonic.OMT: You see, dear hedgehog, I was unleashed by your foolish scientist nemesis Robotnik. He wanted me to destroy anyone that stands in my way. He wanted to take Mobius for his own, but because I was bored of following his orders, I double-crossed him! The foolish egg he was, a snivelling coward as I put him through the same torment as the rest of your buddies… he is NOTHING compared to me. You see, Sonic Maurice Hedgehog, me and you... we are like Yin and Yang... I'm just your dark side! We should team up and destroy all that stand in our way! Join me, Sonic the Hedgehog... JoIn Me…

Sonic: Sorry, but no deal! You messed with my friends, AND the lives of the innocent players before! Well that ends today! Prepare to be exterminated!

Sonic.OMT: Foolish hedgehog! Don't you know who you're messing with? I am the Outbreak Malware Threat, a true GOD!

Sonic: I've managed to neutralise a god before, Dark Gaia, and you can bet your behind I can neutralise you too! So BRING IT ON!!!

Time to tell you the story of where this tale began.

Remember Sonic.OMT? The Outbreak Malware Threat? Well, he was one a mass terroriser of the world in which our story takes place around. It had been three months running since he had started sending many of Mobius's inhabitants into endless loops of gruesome torment.

After that amount of time, however, this universe's Sonic, who I'll be referring to as "OMT!Sonic" from here on out, had enough of it and raced through the entity's realm to face him down personally. The thing is, during the titular conflict, OMT was just too tough for OMT!Sonic to face down alone, but there was a way to break this unfair streak OMT had been using for a while.

During the battle, OMT!Sonic shattered a special orb responsible for keeping his companions stuck in these endless loops, and thanks to this deed, it led to the blue blur getting some much-needed backup. LOTS of it, in fact. His friends, OMT!Robotnik and his fleet, all the little critters that had been wronged, the human players who fell victim to OMT... everyone. The creature couldn't even believe his eyes seeing this.

After his reunions with OMT!Tails and OMT!Amy, alongside a stern scolding of OMT!Robotnik's decision to let OMT run amok in their world, OMT!Sonic decided their focus would be to get to the Master Emerald to halt this tyranny once and for all. Once they got there, however, OMT!Sally and OMT!Tails were thrown out of the central tower, with OMT!Sonic mortally wounded in the process.

With enough strength, however, he grabbed onto the Master Emerald whilst OMT was supercharging himself, thus leading to the final fight between Super Sonic and Sonic.OMT's final form. During the fight, however, the wounds sustained prior did not heal, and Sonic was burning up fast. With luck and enough time, however, he was able to finally silence the Threat and ensure he was no longer a threat to the universe.

However, this victory carried a price. OMT!Sonic was too horribly injured after powering down to continue living, though his friends still could live on. And to him, that was all that mattered. A memorial was held for the blue blur, and in spirit, he gave OMT!Tails the responsibility to keep his legacy going strong and protect Mobius in his steed.

And a year later, whilst OMT!Tails continues to get to grips with his promotion from sidekick to hero, that is where the story begins...

Tomorrow will be when I post some sprite images showcasing the main crews of my story; the Blur Gang, a bunch of multidimensional heroes banded together through different means, and the Quill Society, another bunch there to protect the very fabric of the Sonic/SEGA multiverse.

Sprite credits: OMT!Sonic sprite by CartoonsAnimate22 Sonic.OMT sprite by mtallic