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uwusenpaiuwu · 3 years

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Sleepovers At The Baji Household feat. A Fed-Up Chifuyu

Summary: Chifuyu just wants to sleep, man, but Baji wants to be a jealous crackhead at 2 AM.

Pairing: Sano Manjiro | Mikey x Male Reader

Note(s): I had a little free time and wrote this. So, please enjoy! ALSO, to the anon that sent me a request a few days ago, I saw it and have it filed on my to-do list!!! I will definitely get to it as soon as I get a break in my schedule :)

"Chifuyu, ya wanna see some real discrimination?"

No. No, Chifuyu does not want to see what Baji means by 'real discrimination.'

Does he tell him that, though?

Yes, actually, because it's 2 in the fucking morning and, as much as he respects the other boy, he wouldn't put it past himself to smother him with a pillow after having his dream of cuddling with a sea of puppies suddenly destroyed.

Unfortunately for his sanity, Baji either doesn't hear him or, more likely than not, doesn't give a fuck, because he's already flopping onto his belly and whipping out his phone to do God knows what.

The dial tone that sounds from the speaker a few seconds later makes Chifuyu cringe, especially since it's only ever been a calm silence fit for a good night's sleep prior to Baji bulldozing through it with his absurd question. (At the very least, he's thankful that the latter has half a mind to keep the brightness on the lowest setting, otherwise, Chifuyu would have had to fight.)

On the far end of the row of carefully-laid futons, you shift in your sleep, eyebrows furrowing together at the noise. Rotating onto your side, you unconsciously reach for Baji, and just when he thinks you're being cute and trying to cuddle him, you smack him in the head.

Baji doesn't flinch, instead, takes his pillow and shoves it in your grasp to keep your unconscious self occupied, so that he can focus on getting through to the person who reuses to pick up (understandably so).

Releasing a frustrated groan after being redirected to voice mail for the fifth time, he dials the number again, muttering an impatient, "Pick up already."

Chifuyu feels sorry for the poor soul on the other end. He would've blocked someone following the first call, because again, it's-

The blond has to squint his eyes up at the digital clock on Baji's nightstand, which confirms that it's already 2:22 A.M, further solidifying the fact that he shouldn't be awake right now. And this also applies to the ever persistent first division captain, who insists on bothering who Chifuyu soon discovers is Mikey from the contact ID that flashes across the screen.

Why Baji is so keen on bothering him is a question he doesn't have the mental capacity to ponder over. The most energy he'll expend is to listen in when the call miraculously connects.

"What...?" comes a muffled voice from the receiver, tone laced in an irked grogginess birthed from a slumber rudely interrupted.

There's an absurdly loud, almost angry, roar of Mikey's name, one that has Chifuyu curling in on himself in a futile attempt to escape a sound that should be illegal at this hour.

But you know what else should be illegal?

The fucking whiplash Chifuyu gets when Baji's deep voice takes an abrupt 180°, switching from its normal gruffness to a squeaky, ear-piercing shrill as he screams, "I love you, love you, love you! Do you love me, too, Mikey-kyun~♡?!"

The room is dead silent.

Not a word. Not a murmur. Not a breath.

Just pure, unadulterated silence as both Chifuyu and Mikey process the words that hang in the air, permeating it with a goosebumps-inducing eeriness from having heard such a...a girly, overtly cutesy screech from Baji.

Then-

"What the fuck? He hung on me!"

Chifuyu opens his mouth, thinks better of reacting to the cursed scene he had the misfortune of bearing witness to, and promptly closes it.

Other people may have sleep paralysis demons.

But Chifuyu?

Chifuyu has Baji.

With both hands partially raised in prayer, he begs for the shenanigans to be over and done with.

They are not.

While his eyes remain closed in a last ditch effort to convince himself that it's all a bad dream, he hears a lot of grumbling happening on your side of the room, courtesy of Baji, who's scrambling around in search of...something. One quick peek reveals him fiddling with a phone - yours, to be exact, as evidenced by the distinctive phone charm of your favorite anime character hanging from it.

"(Y/n), wake up for a second," he hears him whisper. It takes a bit of prompting, until he's able to successfully rouse you enough from sleep to elicit any kind of response, which is, essentially, nothing short of an incoherent, slurred mess. Although, Chifuyu is pretty damn certain he heard you call Baji a 'dickhead' for the trouble.

Unperturbed, he continues shaking your limp form, coaxing you into wakefulness with, "Repeat what I tell you, and I'll let you go back to asleep. Deal?"

You squint your eyes at him, only able to make out a vague outline of his visage in the lightless room. "Promise?"

"Cross my heart, hope to die," he automatically responds with the same phrase he's become accustomed to saying whenever you two made a promise, something done purely out of habit, formed when the two of you were just kids and he wanted to get you to do something absolutely ridiculous either for him or with him. And just 'cause he knows you're more susceptible to complying if he does it, he also interlocks his pinky with yours.

"...Fine."

The approval is his cue to proceed, and it's as he's putting the phone on speaker that he turns back to a regretfully wide awake Chifuyu, mouthing a wordless, 'Watch.'

The phone rings, loud and clear, precisely once and only once.

"(Y/n), what's wrong?" It's important to note that even though Mikey still sounds tired as hell, his tone is much lighter, much happier really, than when it was Baji, which is an offense in itself to the said teen that's off to the side, attentively listening to the conversation unfold.

Then, it strikes Chifuyu, what Baji is trying to do, and fuck does it give him an instant headache.

Meanwhile, your mouth morphs into the dopiest of smiles with the pleasant surprise of hearing your boyfriend's voice, chest instantly overtaken by a warm fuzziness that never fails to make an appearance whenever he's involved. Sappy, you know, but it's true!

A light but firm nudge to your shoulder reminds you of your mission. It's too bad that, teetering along the edge of sleep as you are, the words Baji whispers are barely repeated correctly.

The initial phrase from before, the one Baji greeted Mikey with, is shortened to a simple, "You wuv I...?"

But, without missing a beat, you receive Mikey's confident reply of, "Mhm... I wuv you a lot."

There's a sleepy giggle then - a fucking giggle - before your voices drop to sweet whispers that the third and fourth wheels can't fully comprehend from where they are.

"Where the fuck was my 'I wuv you,' huh?!" Baji whisper-shouts, considerate of your conversation even when ranting and raving. "Shit, I would've taken a simple 'I love you,' too! I've known that bastard way longer than (Y/n), and this is what I get?!"

Okay. Toman's president answers his boyfriend's late night calls faster than he does anyone else's and openly expresses his love for him. So what? Chifuyu wouldn't exactly call it 'discrimination,' per se. 'Favoritism,' maybe if you wanna stretch it, but using as strong a word as discrimination, especially taking into account you two are dating; it's normal? Nah.

"You wanna say 'bye' to them? Mm. Baji and Chifuyu." A pause. "Fuyu, Mikey says 'bye.'"

"Bye, Mikey-kun."

The other person in the room waits, and waits, and waits, and when it's clear that there is no intention to address his presence whatsoever, Baji turns to Chifuyu with an almost scandalized expression, making wild gesticulations with his hands, clearly distressed. "See?!"

Blank blue eyes stare back at him, unblinking. Honestly, it's a common occurrence - Baji spiraling in a nonsensical rage - so it's easy for Chifuyu to block out the muted, jealousy-driven temper tantrum as he takes his pillow in both hands, raises it as high as he can, and-

Sigh.

-lets it flop right back onto his face.

He can't suffocate Baji. Shouldn't. Wouldn't. Couldn't. After all, they're best buds, meaning he has an obligation to put up with shit like this once in a while. (Plus, he'd probably get his ass kicked before he succeeds anyway. Totally not worth the beating.)

"Did you hear? Mikey said he wuvs me," he hears you drawl dreamily as soon as you hang up, sounding very close to clocking back out for the night.

"Yeah, yeah. Cute shit. Happy for ya, dude," Baji huffs. Thankfully, he sounds like he's in a similar state to yours, if the yawn that follows his sarcastic comment is anything to go by.

"...He soooo ignored you."

That warrants a punishing punch to the arm, dulled only slightly by the combination of the thick quilt you're swaddled in and the raven-haired boy's fatigue.

"I'll fucking throw you out right now, (Y/n). Don't test me."

"You won't."

"I will."

"Won't."

"Will."

The conversation gradually dies down shortly after, the exhaustion that took its sweet time getting to both of you having reached its peak with the help of the childish bickering. It takes 10 minutes, maybe 15, before two sets of light snores fill the room.

Finally.

Let it be known that there is a lesson to be learned from tonight's events. Really, there is. Y'know, something along the lines of 'Don't agree to a sleepover with Baji, if you plan on actually sleeping,' or whatever.

Alas, Chifuyu's consciousness fades before he realizes what it is.

~~~

"Mikey, be honest. Who do you love more? Me or-?"

"(Y/n)."

"But-"

(Y/n)."

"I-"

"(Y/n)."

Baji is only momentarily discouraged, sharp eyes glaring at the blond that lays his head on your lap after hi-fiving you. He didn't want to do this, but he's left with no choice.

"(Y/n) or Babu?"

From the way Mikey stiffens up, refusing to look at either him or you in the eyes, Baji knows he has him right where he wants him, has him torn between a cute face or a sweet ride.

"Oi! Don't pretend to be asleep! Answer the damn question! OI!"

(After hours of serious contemplation - even though you told him it doesn't particularly matter - it's revealed that, of course, Mikey loves you more. Babu just happens to trail behind as a very close second.)

#mikey x male reader #mikey x reader #sano manjiro x male reader #sano manjiro x reader #sano manjirou x male reader #sano manjirou x reader #sano manjiro #sano manjirou #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x reader #baji keisuke #chifuyu matsuno

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restapesta · 3 years

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If somebody had ever told Mickey that, one day, he'd be chilling at the beach with two girls, one a whiny toddler, the other one a whiny tween, he wouldn't have believed them.

Especially if one happened to be his daughter and the other one his niece.

Franny was sitting cross-legged on one of the towels, earbuds stuck deep into her ears, some heavy-metal shit busting through her skull, loud enough for the entire beach to hear.

She was being prissy the whole day, the puberty thing hitting her like a truck, destroying the sweet, innocent Franny and leaving a monster in its wake.

A very temperamental monster that Mickey had offered to take off of Debbie's hands as a favor to Sandy who was planning on using up the day for sex Mickey did not need to know about. She had spewed some shit about her and Debbie not spending enough time together due to the—as she so nicely put it—needy brat, and, Franny actually likes you Mickey, please!.

And well, he actually liked Franny too, so he said yes.

It would've been a great day at the beach, it really would have, had Franny not said upon seeing Ian getting ready to go with them, "Uh, no, just me and uncle Mick."

Ian had given Franny the most surprised/slightly-wounded look and simply nodded.

But then he turned to Mickey and thrust the sleepy baby he had been holding into his hands, saying, with a slightly indigent look, "Father-daughter day too, yeah? Wanna grab some beers with my brothers."

And with a begrudging glare sent towards Ian, followed by the same Ian smiling and pressing a kiss to both Mickey's and their daughter's head, Mickey was off with two girls to the loud, obnoxious beach where he would be playing caretaker all day.

Mickey also didn't miss the daggers Franny was shooting towards them all, a scowl etched on her face.

Alas, they were at the fucking beach.

His little girl was bouncing on his knee as he shook the car keys in front of her, tiny hands reaching out to grasp them like a kitten. Mickey was smiling softly as he watched his daughter purse her tiny lips in concentration and try and catch the jingling metal that Mickey was pulling out of her reach each time she got too close.

A small red baseball hat was perched up on her head, and they were in the shade, making sure the one-year-old wasn't in the Sun's way at any given moment.

"Come on, baby," Mickey cooed in a voice he had never, in his life, imagined he would use. "You're a Milkovich, you can do it."

The little girl giggled and then with a newfound determination, lunged for the keys, tearing them out of her dad's grip.

She looked up at him expectantly.

Mickey raised his hand in a high-five and bounced their hands softly together, noting how tiny hers looked compared to his. "Good job girl, making dad proud."

He sported a wide smile on his face as he watched his daughter play with the keys, seemingly forgetting about him altogether.

Mickey was, in fact, so lost in thought of how fucking lucky he was—with Ian, his kid, his family—that he didn't even notice Franny huffing, tearing the earbuds out of her ears violently, getting up from where she was sitting, and stomping away.

When he did though, he was not too happy about having to get up and chase a hormonal teenager down the beach with a baby in his hands.

But, alas, he did.

"Franny!" He said once he was close enough, the toddler in his hands making whimpering sounds as she chewed on the keys.

He moved them away from her mouth once he noticed, sending her a warning glare, muttering slowly so she would understand, "Eating keys is a no-no."

She simply blinked.

She was so fucking cute.

"Ugh!" Mickey snapped his head towards Franny who was grasping strands of her long, red hair in her hands, tugging at them in exasperation. "This is what I'm talking about! This!"

Mickey had no fucking clue what was going on. In fact, all he wanted was for Ian to be there alongside him, guiding Mickey through this like he did through a lot of things. He would know what the fuck was going on in the first place.

He wondered if his own little girl would end up blowing up on him some day over something on a public beach with a bunch of people staring.

He hoped so—it'd make him proud.

He turned his attention back to his niece.

"Franny, look, I have no clue what you're so pissy about."

She snorted, eyes rolling. "Of course you don't. If you weren't staring at that goddamn baby every two seconds maybe you would notice!"

Staring at that goddamn baby? He shot Franny a look. "You mean my kid?"

She screamed, making Mickey cringe, "Ugh!"—right before stomping away back to their towels.

Mickey watched his niece go, lips parted.

What the fuck just happened?

---

The car ride back home was spent in silence.

In fact, the entire day had been spent in silence, the only thing filling the void being the chatter from the beach and the toddler's giggles.

When Mickey dropped Franny off back at the Gallagher house, she shut the door with all the strength Mickey didn't know she possessed, making the car shudder, and subsequently making the little girl in the back whimper in what was the beginning of a cry.

Needless to say, the day had gone to shit.

He drove back home in what should have been silence, but was instead the wailing of a Milkovich baby.

She calmed down by the time they were at the door to their home.

Fuck, Mickey was fucking exhausted.

As soon as the two came into Ian's view—the same Ian who was sipping on a lemonade with a gay-ass straw—his face split into a wide grin. He grabbed their daughter from Mickey's arms, hugging her close.

"Hello my little tomato." He kissed the top of her tiny head, making her smile and laugh.

He then glanced at Mickey, a sly smirk replacing the sweet smile.

"Hello my big tomato."

Mickey rolled his eyes, but let himself be pulled in towards his husband, careful not to squish their child. They kissed slowly, Mickey forgetting the turmoils of the day and Franny's outburst.

Just as he was about to deepen the kiss, Mickey felt tiny arms pushing his face, making him pull away from Ian.

He glanced down at the pouting, angry child. Her cheeks were chubbier than usual, eyes squinting as she tried to pry her dads apart.

Mickey stared. "What's she doing?"

In response, Ian chuckled and replied, again kissing her cheeks, "Somebody's jealous, aren't you, little one?"

And that was when it clicked.

Franny. Her outburst. The way she glared at Ian. The way she glared at their baby girl.

Franny was jealous.

She was fucking jealous.

"Hey man, you alright?"

Mickey sighed, meeting Ian's eyes. The baby was falling asleep in his arms.

"I gotta go do something real quick, I'll be back."

Ian's brows furrowed. "What is that something, exactly?"

Just as Mickey grabbed his keys again, pressing a kiss to Ian's cheek, he said, "I need to apologize to Franny," Then he headed back towards the Gallagher house where she was probably still seething.

---

When Franny saw Mickey at the door of her room, she shut the door in his face.

"Oh, come on, kid!" He knocked again, feeling slightly irritated. "Open the fuck up!"

The door shimmied open slowly, a frowning Franny appearing before him. As soon as she let go of the knob, she crossed her arms indignantly across her chest, staring Mickey down.

Mickey took notice of the RED-HEAD tattooed across her knuckles with a red sharpie, an imitation of Mickey's tats. He smiled at them, seeing how she must've done it as soon as she came back home.

"I like them," He pointed at her hands making her twist the hand with the HEAD on it, inspecting it.

She didn't reply.

Mickey sighed, crossing his own arms. And before he knew he was doing it, he said, "I'm sorry."

Franny raised an eyebrow.

"For not spending the day with you like you deserved." He continued.

Franny scoffed, the first animate thing she did since he arrived. "You mean for staring at that tiny monster the entire time?"

Yup, Mickey thought, jealous.

"Cute tiny monster," He corrected making her scowl deepen and fists visibly clench. Then he quickly added, "Yeah, I'm sorry."

Franny gnawed in her lip for a few moments before letting out a loud sigh. She eyed Mickey once, from head to toe, before relenting.

"Fine," The redhead huffed. "But you're taking me out tomorrow. No Ian, no baby, just you and me, uncle-niece bonding time."

Mickey smiled at the girl, so little, yet so grown up, and he wondered how he truly wanted his own daughter to grow up to be like Franny, taking nobody's shit.

"Deal," He extended his hand for her to shake, which she took. The girl had a firm grasp. "I'll take you on a proper date, my lady. Dinner at McDonald's and paintball so we can shoot some shit. That good?"

Franny smiled widely, remanding Mickey so much of Ian, running towards him swiftly, and wrapping her arms around his torso.

"I love you uncle Mickey," She murmured against his shirt, the sound muffled.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her orange head.

"Love you too, baby carrots."

He really did.

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian and mickey #shameless #shameless us #fanfic #fic rec #ian x mickey #Franny gallagher #post series finale #parents ian and mickey #btw #wrote the beginning of this this morning went to the beach had such bad cramps had my dad drive me back home wrote the rest of this is pain #(:#*ficlet

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orojuice · 3 years

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Paradox Bandit: Alternate Take

A comic by me and Sha-Y. Part of our NMH3: Alternate Struggles series.

Paradox Bandit was probably the alien “superhero” I was least interested in when FU’s crew was revealed way back in “The Return”.

Some noted his resemblance to He-Man, which I only recognized after it was pointed out. This comparison was strengthened during the Rankings comicbook intro that called him the “Master of Explosion”, a possible riff on “Masters of the Universe”.

Even with 2021 being an odd year for the Champion of Eternia, I wasn’t very inspired to do an “alternate take” comic with him like I did with Vanishing Point, Sniping Lee, or Black Night Direction.

Then Travis unveiled his skeletal “Full Green” armor mode and everything just sort of clicked, and a backstory for Paradox Bandit as fallen superhuman barbarian hero of a far-off planet/dimension whose Yuga-esque cyclic exploits are broadcasted on Earth ala Robert A. Heinlein’s “World as Myth” concept i.e. all “fiction” is “real” somewhere out there in the multiverse.

A quick two-punch, two-page comic script reminiscent of Travis’ confrontation with Electro Triple Star in TSA came to mind. One that satirizes the quick AND painful way writers try to shake up long-running fictional franchises, as well as the feuds that follow. We’ve seen it with He-Man, with Marvel’s Thor (whose washed-up Endgame iteration Paradox Bandit also resembles) with Star Wars, with The Greatest American Hero, the list goes on. In the stories these shifts typically occur in, the current is powerless to challenge the coming, the past is to be killed with no sincere purpose, but in the chaotic framework of No More Heroes, that needn’t be so as anything can happen.

Thus, the dismissed, diminished, and discarded demigod is given the chance to “fight back” in a raw and direct fashion that some of the archetype’s bereaved fans secretly wish they would, resulting in a metaphorical sequence rife with genuine pain, visceral delight, and undeniable horror.

Choking Hazard: 3 years of age and under.

Rather than a straw supporter of the new guard or an upright acolyte taking a former idol to task, Travis would be an interesting opponent as he’s clearly not the ideal result of the pop culture strata Paradox Bandit is supposed to represent. Despite being a fan of heroic fiction as seen in the likes of Ultraman, Kamen Rider, and presumably 80s action cartoons (Travis was born during 1981 or 1982), he’s grown up into a thoroughly unpleasant and dysfunctional individual, calling into question just how effective the old way of doing things was in providing actable and legitimate inspirations for audiences. He is, in short, exactly what Paradox Bandit accuses him of being, the awkward contrarian who would like the Skeletor and Orko stand-ins over him.

That in mind, perhaps a change is needed. Although pre and post-fight, Travis tacitly argues for a method that ties in for his love of tokusatsu (see the names for the various Death Glove Chips), sequel stories that explore new themes, ideas, and characters but truly respect the virtues and spirit of the mythology’s bedrock rather than treading upon them to form a distinct platform: succession rather than supplanting (you can see that in how MotU progressed from simple toy comic tie-ins to all its much loved animated iterations, graphic novels, etc). Which is more diplomatic and preferable than Paradox Bandit’s wish to take the reins of his next cycle and lock it in a status quo where he will remain secure at the cost of stagnancy.

For his battle, Travis fights Paradox Bandit in his Full Green mode much like he does against Midori, more out of symbolism and to have at least one other Full Green boss fight on the roster. In contrast to Midori’s area control/denial battle style, Paradox Bandit fights in a much more aggressive and direct manner: causing tremors, stomping up boulders to kick towards Travis, calling down lightning, throwing his axe and calling it back, doing melee combos reminiscent of the Captain Treatments, summoning his version of Battle Cat that Travis needs to use missiles or his Tiger Attack to knock him off of, and of course, doling out EXPLOSIONS.

The fight ends with Paradox Bandit managing to badly damage the Full Green armor (to the point that it can only be used in short bursts, explaining why Travis didn’t pull it out during a crucial moment during the final boss sequence), but this gives Travis a chance to wrest his axe away from him. Screaming “By the Potence of ZweiNull! I have the Potence!” (which does nothing), he swings it down and critically wounds Paradox Bandit. As he lies dying, he expresses fear at what’s going to happen to him come his next incarnation, if one happens at all, and laments over his failures as both a hero and villain.

Travis assures him that despite how screwed up he himself is, he still lives by some of the lessons Paradox Bandit doled out as De-Max in his original show: He recycles, he looks both ways before he crosses the street, etc, which he’s passed on to his own kids. Paradox Bandit asks him if he’ll share MASTERS OF EXPLOSION with Hunter and Jeane, but Travis shrugs and says they’re not really into the kind of entertainment he likes, but if the new CG MoE show on Notflix is good, he’ll probably buy a couple of the toys if they’re of acceptable quality.

This gives Paradox Bandit some measure of peace, who says that he’s once again feeling very, very sleepy, as his body suddenly disintegrates. His axe then flies out of Travis hands and up into space, presumably to reboot MASTERS OF EXPLOSION.

I’ve actually watched the CG He-Man show. It’s actually pretty good. Radically different in lots of ways, but the essence and ideals of the Masters of the Universe remain. It also comes packaged with shockingly good humor, character dynamics, and action scenes. So check that out if you like.

Travis’ shirt is part of the logo of Forgotton Anne, a beautiful and fully-voiced indie puzzle platforming game that’s also about lost things…and lost people.

#no more heroes #Travis Touchdown #paradox bandit #he-man #masters of the universe #no more heroes 3 #nmh #nmh3 #forgotton anne #nmh3alternate

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cowboyjigen · 4 years

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A Letter For You

also titled: Five Times Yaku Said I love You & When They Said It Back

Word Count: 2.4 K

Pronouns: they/them

warnings: swearing, a little bit of angst, currently unedited

Authors Note: this is my second time posting this cause tumblr decided to delete it last time. also apologise of the lack of a read more for some reason tumblr won’t let me add it right now.

tags: @thembo-for-anime @ohayoposts (uhh tagging you so you can get your yaku fix-)

Number One: Hasty Confessions

Yaku Morisuke was lot of things, late was not one of them. But alas here he is, running faster than he ever has in his life. Okay maybe that one is a stretch.

As he ran towards the club room he racked his brain for a logical reason of how he ended up in this situation. His alarm was set. And so was his back up. Hell even his back up’s back up was on. So why was he sprinting to Nekoma 20 minutes later than he should have arrived?

Yaku didn’t really have an excuse. All he really knew was that he was late and starving. He also knew that the chances of him getting to eat before lunch were slim to none.

“Yakkun!” He turned his head to where the sound was coming from. Standing by the club door was Y/N, waving at him a small smile on their lips. “There you are! I was starting to get worried.”

He let out a breathy laugh. “I slept through my alarm by accident.” He sheepishly replied rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well don’t keep the team waiting, they need their libero, silly.” And with that they pushed him into the club room, closing the door behind him to allow him privacy.

Yaku let out a sign of relief when he walked into the gym. No one seemed to ridicule him for showing up late. He quickly stretched and got to work receiving with Lev.

Practice went on as normal despite his late entrance. He yelled at Lev for failing to receive the ball. Kuroo laughed and poked fun at the pair. And seemingly as soon as it started it was over.

A knock resonated from the door of the club room. “Are ya decent?” Y/n yelled with a slight laugh.

“Yeah yeah you’re good creep.” Kuroo laughed out as Y/N creaked open the door.

“Yaku are you good?” He perked up at the mention of his name, a slight blush dusting his cheeks realizing you where staring at him questioningly.

“Huh? Uh what?”

“You’re tie?” He looked down the the crooked knot which donned his neck. They stalked towards him, hands reaching out to pull the knot undone.

Fingers making quick work of the loose fabric. “Thanks.” He flushed again.

They nodded quickly grabbing his blazer and handing it to him. “Let’s go.” They walked back towards the door but paused, hand stopped on the handle. “Don’t need you being late again.”

Yaku sat at his desk feeling nauseous. The lack of food in his system finally catching up to him. Dropping his head down on to the desk hoping it would all just go away.

Soft footsteps made there way in his direction before stopping in front of his desk. “Yakkun.” The soft voice didn’t register as his beloved manager at first.

An annoyed groan paired with an overly annoyed face came out of the libero’s mouth. As soon as he looked up his face softened at the sight of Y/N. “Are you feeling alright?”

The paled skin and clear look of discomfort on his face where answer enough for the manager. Silently They placed a tin and bottle of water onto his desk.

Opening the tin Yaku was greeted by an arrangement of fruit. He quickly picked up the utensil from the side of the tin and started to shovel the fruits into his mouth. Y/N smiled to themself seeing him more relaxed than he had previously been.

Yaku looked up at them, words fall from his mouth quicker than he could think them over “Thank you, Y/N. I love you.” To Y/N it seemed like he hadn’t even realized what he had said as he went straight back to eating.

“Of course, Yakkun.” They muttered leaning down to place a kiss on his cheek. Although they walked out too quickly to see the red flame filling his cheeks.

Number Two: Sleepy Confessions

The second time Yaku muttered the words “I love you” Y/N was after he suffered yet another sleepless night.

He could count on one hand the hours of sleep he managed to catch last night. No matter what he tried he just couldn’t manage to peacefully fall into slumber.

He’s movements were lagged, and his receives were off. Despite all this no one commented on how he was in fear of irking him.

An all to familiar knock rang at the door. Y/N walked in to make sure the lingerers of the team where finishing up. A look of soft concern was thrown to Yaku, but they decided not to press the matter right now. He was still getting changed after all.

Although that didn't stop them from sliding a coffee across his desk where he laid with his head down once again.

“Yakkun? Can you drink this for me?” He peered up at his manager in front of him looking at him with a sympathetic smile.

He nodded with a small smile, cracking the can open and taking a sip. “Did you not get enough sleep last night?” they frowned.

“I just couldn’t seem to fall asleep is all...” He looked down into the can almost as if it would magically wake him up more.

“Alright, I’ll see you at lunch Yakkun.” they stood up from the seat they had previously resigned in and ruffled his fair. His leaning into their hand didn’t go unnoticed and resulted in them smiling to themself.

Lunch came quickly much to Yaku’s enjoyment as he found himself surrounded by his friends. He also found himself significantly more drowsy than he was just a few hours earlier. The coffee Y/N had given him doing seemingly nothing at this point.

“Yaku-senpai you look tired are you okay?” Lev questioned.

Yaku sighed shaking his head slightly, taking another bite of the onigiri in his hand. Soft eyes fell upon him and small hands gestured towards him.

Quietly he shuffled and his head found its way onto their lap. A sigh of content managed to slip past his lips as he started to drift off. Lev stifled a giggle as Y/N sent a glare his way, a silent warning to let Yaku sleep.

Nimble fingers found their way into his hair. sifting and lightly tugging in hopes of allowing him to rest peacefully even if it was just for a few minutes.

Yaku muttered a few words of affirmation to continue their ministrations. In his lulled state he mumbled daring words causing all but Y/N to freeze.

“Mmm... I love you...” A small contented smile plastered on his face.

Number Three: Rushed Confessions

The third time Yaku confessed to Y/N it was pouring down rain and he had forgotten his umbrella.

From inside the gym the rain sounded more like an army coming to attack than the thunderstorm that was correctly predicted for today.

A loud laugh resonated from the opposite side of the gym where Kuroo sat next to Y/N and Kenma. He stared at the group with admiration in his eyes, although he cleverly masked it with faux annoyance on his face. “Stop being so loud Kuroo.” He shunned.

“Awe don’t be mean Yakkun.” Y/N teased playfully, “C’mere doofus.”

Yaku trekked towards the group and placed himself next to Y/N. Without saying anything they wrapped their arm around him and pulled him towards their shoulder where he placed his head.

After a few more minutes Kuroo and Kenma left, the former holding up his umbrella for the two in hopes that the latter’s game wouldn’t get ruined.

So there the two sat. cuddled together as the rain pounded down atop the roof of the gym. Neither made any effort to move. If you where to ask either of them they would have quickly dismissed their staying. A readied excuse of “oh we forgot our umbrellas so we’re just waiting out the storm” at the tip of their tongues.

For Yaku it wouldn’t be a lie. He hadn’t heeded the warnings of the storm from the news broadcast early on in the morning. He had a long walk and it would be even longer with walking Y/N home to insure their safety. And what gentleman would he be if he didn’t offer his umbrella to protect them from the rain. So instead he opted for sitting with them in the quiet gym.

For Y/N it was as from from the truth as possible. They always kept an extra umbrella in the club room for situations just like these. And even if they didn’t they could have just asked Lev if they could have their umbrella back so they could make the journey home without threat of water in their hair or coat. But instead they let the white lie slip past their lips in hopes of spending time with Yaku.

Thirty more minutes past and the storm wasn’t letting up. Both were getting antsy from sitting so still. “Serve me a few?”

Y/N turned towards the boy sitting next to them. They hesitated, their serves have never be great and they worried that Yaku would be less than enthused when he saw how poor they truly were. “Okay.”

So they grabbed the ball bin from the closet and started. The serves weren’t the greatest but Yaku received every one. In stark contrast to the last time he haphazardly confessed his feelings for them. It was after a rather bad serve that Yaku let it slip once again.

“Man I love you..” He mumbled to himself as he watched Y/N sheepishly rub the back of their neck. a light blush dusted their cheeks, not from fudging the serve but because they had heard him. But he didn’t need to know that.

Number Four: Angry Confessions

The fourth time Yaku confessed he hated it. He hated it cause he hurt them and that’s the last thing he would have ever wanted to do.

It wasn’t uncommon for a teenager to go on dates. Yaku understood this but he couldn’t help but get angry when they happily gushed to some of their friends that Washio had asked them out.

He didn’t hate Washio. In fact at one point he would have said they could have been friends. But hearing the person who he had been so infatuated with called him Washio-kun lead every feeling of friendliness to leave his body. Instead being replaced with something he couldn’t describe. Kuroo could however, and he would describe it as pure, unadulterated jealousy.

Yaku wouldn’t come to terms with his jealousy until he was trying to have a conversation with Y/N but they kept checking their phone every few minutes. He had no way of knowing if they were texting Washio. In fact they were actually texting Bokuto about how while they appreciated the sentiment of Washio’s offer ultimately they turned him down because they care deeper for someone much closer to them.

Of course Yaku didn’t know this though and the buzzing of their phone was only making him more angry. And when they giggled down at heir phone, a look of admiration in their eye’s he snapped.

“Why do you keep texting him so fucking much?” shit.

“What?” The abrupt outburst startled them and as their phone clattered against the table Yaku realized he shouldn’t have said anything. But at this point he couldn’t stop.

“I’m trying to have a conversation with you and you keep fucking texting him!” Tears brimmed their eyes and threatened to spill at the harshness of Yaku’s words.

“Yakkun wait-”

“No.” He huffed “I can’t stand seeing you so fucking excited about Washio when I’m right fucking here.” They both were crying now.

Y/N didn’t know where Yaku’s words where coming from. He seemed happy when they had first told everyone that Washio had asked them out.

Yaku didn’t know how they weren’t able to notice the tight lipped smiles that he wore whenever they brought him up. How could they completely miss how much he cared about them. How in love with them he was.

But by the time Yaku had gotten out of his head Y/N was starting to walk out of his bedroom. “W-Wait! Y/N!” He scrambled up in an attempt to stop them from leaving.

They wanted too. They really did but they didn’t want him to see that tears that streamed down their face knowing how they would effect him. So they kept walking. “Wait please!” He panicked. He never wanted to make you upset. “Please... I love you...”

Number Five: Letter Confessions

It had been a week. A week since he had yelled at them. A week since he had hurt them. He knew they wouldn’t speak to him. He didn’t blame them for it. He couldn’t text them . It wouldn’t feel as sincere as he wants.

So he did the next best thing. He wrote a letter. A letter detailing every feeling he felt for them. He poured out his heart and soul and hoped that it would be enough for them to at least forgive him for lashing out.

After several hours and several crumpled papers later, he entrusted the safety of the letter in the hands of their favorite first year. Much to his own displeasure.

When Lev appeared in the door frame of their classroom the other students whispered about the silver giant awkwardly looking for Y/N. When he spotted them, his face lit up and he shuffled his way towards the back of the room.

He quietly placed the red letter onto their desk. Anyone watching the scene unfold would have assumed the letter was from the first year. But they knew better, they recognized the lettering of their name atop the envelope. It wasn’t the first time Yaku had decided to apologize with a letter.

They sighed opening the envelope carefully, they would add it to their collection of letters previously sent. The apology was standard at first. Exactly what you’d expect when your best friend screamed at you for reasons unbeknownst to you.

The second half of the letter caught their attention though. No longer was it an apology but instead a confession. Yaku had written out exactly how he felt about his best friend simply ending the letter with “I love you, Yaku.”

Double Sided Confessions

Quickly Y/N forced themself out of their chair grabbing their bag and the letter running towards Yaku’s class.

“Morisuke.” They breathed out standing in front of him.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shut up already” They rolled their eyes and did the one thing they could think of doing. The one thing they’ve thought about doing for three years now. They kissed him. And he kissed them back.

“I love you too, Yakkun.”

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trinscabbage · 3 years

Note

Souda and Gundam cuddling after a hard day, they just tired and in love <3<3<3

oh yes. oh absolutely. sleepy cuddles are sooo nice... i am going to make thhem married..,,, gundham is a vet and kazuichi is a mechanic

uhh also tw mentions of death , since gundham is a vet n all (NOT his personal pets) sorry if this is a little sad dfjslkfjf

Kazuichi took out his keys and unlocked the door to his and Gundham’s shared home. He could hear the pitter patter of tiny paws awaiting him at the other side, taking a deep breath to prepare himself. He opened the door and wordlessly greeted their Pomeranian, who then lead Kazuichi directly to the living room couch. The dog hopped up on Gundham’s lap as Kazuichi just stood there for a second, too tired to do anything.

Kazuichi had a busy, hard day at work. Working as a mechanic came naturally for Kazuichi, but freelancing work meant dealing with customers one on one. He was known as a highly skilled mechanic and got paid very generously for his work... usually. Kazuichi had run into his fair share of snobby customers, but the Togamis took the cake on annoyingness. He had planned on coming home early, but he was forced to rework the entire air conditioning system of the Togami mansion... Twice. It was hell.

Gundham shifted on the couch, removing the dog from his lap and opening the space for Kazuichi to lay with him. Kazuichi promptly took the silent invitation and sat down, settling down into the spot that Kazuichi knew he fit perfectly. Kazuichi closed his eyes as he laid on Gundham’s chest, listening to his husband’s heartbeat for a moment. He put his arms around Gundham, hugging him tight.

“An accursed day, my paramour?” Gundham asked softly while running a hand through Kazuichi’s hair. Their little dog hopped up on Kazuichi’s lap, so Kazuichi let himself concentrate on the nice, warm, soft feeling of its fur.

“Yeah, the Togamis made me re-do their entire fuckin’ ventilation system twice. You know how I hate doin’ AC, but the money was too nice and I gotta help a Hope’s Peak Alum...” Kazuichi let out a sigh and fully relaxed into Gundham, relieved to get that off his shoulders. “How was your day? Hopefully better than mine...”

“Alas, my day was rather unfortunate as well. A few companions had to be relinquished from this mortal realm, as they were in pain and there was nothing we could do. You know I try to face my fears with confidence, but it has chipped at my soul today since we had to let go of a rather young hellhound whom was only getting worse by the day...” Gundham said with immense sadness in his voice. Kazuichi knew the days Gundham had to put down pets were the hardest for him, as the ultimate breeder he was an extremely skilled veterinarian, but that also came at the price of knowing exactly when he could not help an animal anymore.

“Oh Gundham, I am so sorry. Know that I am here for you, as always and I love you very much.” Kazuichi looked up at Gundham to find that his eyes were watery and glazed over. “We can order out tonight, I’ll order us some Indian food right now, alright?” Kazuichi said as he lifted himself up to grab his phone, opening the first takeout app he had. Gundham hummed in agreement, still playing with Kazuichi’s hair while looking over his shoulder to see what he’d order. Their go-to long day was always Indian, since it was vegetarian and also spicy like Kazuichi liked it. Gundham watched as the other selected their usual orders and was about to hit send before glancing up at Gundham for approval. Gundham force a smile and nodded, before Kazuichi hit ‘Order.’

“It’ll be here in an hour, wanna do anything?” Kazuichi asked.

“I would prefer if we stayed like this for a while... you are my beloved, so just being here makes these challenges more tolerable.” Gundham said to Kazuichi. Even though they were married, it never failed to make Kazuichi smile when Gundham was loving.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” Kazuichi said as he snuggled into Gundham’s chest and let out a content sigh. He was so happy to come home to Gundham every day now. Even though it was a bad day, Gundham and his support made it all the better.

Kazuichi and Gundham sat there cuddling wordlessly for the rest of the night, both feeling a lot better in the other’s presence.

#SORRY ITS A LITTLE SAD but it is sad cuddles i promise #cabbage asks #soudam fic #soudam requests #soudam

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tiaragqueen · 4 years

Text

Samaritan

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Ghost! Kirishima Eijirou x Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,7k+

✂ Trigger Warning: Obsessiveness, mention of murder, death, blood, injury

[Edited]

***

I always get brilliant ideas whenever I'm sleepy it's almost inconvenient. There's not much yandere in this one, just an introduction and all. Maybe I'll try to fit the hard stuff later. Meanwhile, enjoy puppy Kirishima!

If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!

“Don’t leave me. I believe, I reach out to you. No ending, you are my hope. Even if I’m struck by rain, even if I’m erased by darkness, feel it without closing your eyes. You are not alone.” - Don’t Leave [Bangtan Seonyeondan]

For the longest time, Kirishima had been lonely. Every day, he roamed the house in search of a company from the little animals that resided there. Mosquitoes rung on his ears like a persistent alarm as he examined the familiar dust coating the furniture. They were his loyal companions. Friends, almost. He wasn’t crazy, but every living thing was better than nothing. Even if the said living thing was cockroaches, who he had the misfortune to encounter occasionally. He didn’t despise them, per se. And yet, there was something utterly distasteful about seeing them skittered from one place to another. He almost wished he was still alive and healthy, just so he could get rid of them immediately.

But, alas, it remained wishful thinking on his part. And nothing pained him more than seeing his reflection in the mirror; translucent pale skin, spiky red hair that used to be reminiscent of flame due to its vibrant color, sharp teeth, and crimson eyes obscured by the agony of being unable to move on. Because he couldn’t, for some unknown reasons. Perhaps, this had something to do with the house.

This was his resting place, after all. A killer had somehow broken in when he was waiting for his girlfriend, Mina, to come. The next thing he knew, he was knocked out of the chair and wheezed on the floor while the murderer watched derisively. He couldn’t recognize their face due to the mask that concealed it almost entirely, but he could see their eyes. They were wide as if they were engrossed in some sick entertainment and refused to look away. It wasn’t until they heard a footfall on the front door did they finally escaped through the window, and by the time Mina found him, it was already too late. The wound on his stomach was too wide to cover, and the blood that poured was too much to handle.

That was years ago, though. He didn’t know if the killer was already found or not since Mina had moved out to live with her roommate and couldn’t bear to visit anymore. But he did know that the injustice of his death was the reason why he was stuck here, floating aimlessly while his friends continued with their lives, unable to peacefully ascend to the next realm because he couldn’t accept it. He couldn’t accept that he was already dead. He couldn’t accept that he was no longer able to chat and meet with his friends and colleagues anymore. He couldn’t accept the fact that this house was his eternal home now if it could be called one.

It was unfair. Life was unfair to him. He was supposed to live long. He was supposed to marry the love of his life. He was supposed to see his future children playing in the yard. He was supposed to die quietly from old age, cradled by his frail wife, not gurgling on his own blood and listened to her wails and frantic shouts.

Except… there was nothing he could do to change his fate, was there? Maybe he’d always been destined to this way, the same way he was destined to be born from his mother’s stomach. He didn’t know. He just… wished it hadn’t come so soon. He wished it hadn’t been so abrupt. He wished he could put up a fight instead of freezing in shock.

Sighing, Kirishima put a hand against the brittle glass and stared outside. The familiar yard greeted him for the hundred times, untended and soaked from last night’s rain. Petrichor wafted through the vents and easily soothed his high-strung nerves, his favorite scent when the musty smell of old wood became too much for him to bear. Lightning flashed sporadically in the bleak sky and thunder resounded somewhere distant, but the rain had yet to fall again.

Lost in his musing, Kirishima failed to notice a strange car parked in the driveway. He blinked and immediately focused on the silhouette of a person who was fumbling with something through the tinted window. Who were they? What were they doing in here? Were they planning to investigate his murder? But the case had been closed a long time ago, and the car didn’t look like it belonged to the police or something. An investigator, then?

Or, maybe, a new occupant?

The prospect of having a stranger lived in his house perked him up considerably. It’d been a long time since he saw someone unrelated to the police visiting him – well, not really. Still, Kirishima wouldn’t let the thought discouraged him from attempting to befriend them. He didn’t know if they were the type to believe in the supernatural, but he hoped they could accept his existence here. Better yet, be his friend. It’d be nice to have someone whom he could talk to freely without screaming or flinching every second.

Kirishima nodded to himself and looked out, curious eyes widening when he saw you stepping out of your car. A girl! That was rather unexpected, but he guessed it was better than nothing. Though, with every step you took towards the house, Kirishima began to worry about his social skills. It’d been a long time since he interacted with anyone, after all. Nobody could blame him if he got rusty, especially around the opposite sex.

Regardless, it wouldn’t hinder him from trying. He prayed you wouldn’t be so jumpy around him.

Beaming, Kirishima moved to the doorstep like an overeager dog waiting for its owner and watched you unloading bags after bags from your car. His brows creased when he saw the fatigue that eclipsed your face and looked down as though disappointed by his unhelpful self. First time seeing someone in so many years and he already let you carry all the baggage alone. What kind of a friend was he?

For the next hours, he hovered over you and tried to assist you by arranging the little things neatly. He wasn’t a clean freak, but a touch of the order was something that he very much welcomed. It was the only thing he could do to alleviate your exhaustion, and as a ‘thank you’ gift for accompanying him despite all the rumors that surrounded the house. Though, he wasn’t sure if you’d heard them.

When you noticed the result, you’d glanced around bewilderedly before shrugging. You didn’t thank him, and yet, the fact that you thought nothing of his ‘work’ strangely gratified him. Perhaps, it was because you weren’t being paranoid like he’d expected you to. Nevertheless, it felt as if you’d patted him on the head or something.

This small help extended to the following days of your stay. From rushing to the kitchen and placed a clean glass on the table when he spotted you rising from the couch to drink, preparing a toothbrush and toothpaste before you slept, to covering you in blanket whenever you shivered in your slumber, he’d eagerly did it all. Sometimes, he’d linger on the bedside and gaze down at your tranquil face.

During those intimate moments, he’d silently thank the stars above for blessing him with such an agreeable companion and caressed the hair away from your eyes. He never got tired of marveling at your visage – sleep wasn’t a necessity for him, and even if it did, how could he reject the chance to admire you from up close? – and he wondered how would you react once you see him. Would you be scared of him? He hoped not. He’d spent so much time with you he couldn’t bear the thought of you actively avoiding him. Not that you could, though. Would you admire him the same way he’d done to you every single day? His cheeks bloomed at the idea as he shyly looked away.

Kirishima had been thinking about revealing his existence, but never once did he realize it. The fear of your judgment was the strongest among many inhibitions, and he found himself unconsciously prolonging the inevitable moment. However, Kirishima knew that he needed to do it sooner or later.

And he finally found the right opportunity to do it when you sat down on the dressing chair one night and stared at the mirror.

“This is stupid, I know, talking to my reflection like this. But…” you sighed. “hear me out. I’ve been noticing strange things, lately. They’re small, but disturbing nonetheless.”

Disturbing? Did that mean you hated his efforts?

“I don’t really believe in supernatural things like that, but if you can show your face to me, I’ll be grateful. Anything to let me know that I’m not going crazy within my first week here.”

Kirishima bit his bottom lip, wondering if he should come clean to you. He knew that he was striving for your approval, for your happiness, because he feared that you’d leave him someday. And he didn’t want that; he refused to be alone anymore. Forgotten by anyone and anything that used to stick with him and merely drifted through periods. He wanted to mean something to you, he wanted to leave a mark on your mind. Anything to make you know that he existed, and yet, he lacked the courage to do so.

However, he didn’t have much time to mull over before you stood up.

“Ah, forget it,” you grumbled. “Maybe I am crazy.”

“No!” Your eyes bulged when you felt a pair of sturdy arms wrapped around your stomach and pulled you to a hard chest. Strands of carmine hair caressed your jaw as Kirishima buried his head on the crook of your neck, desperate to delay you just a bit longer. “Please, don’t go. Don’t leave me alone, [Name]-chan.”

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krenbotvt · 4 years

Text

What The Fans Of (Almost) Every Scarecrow Design Are Like Just by Surveying Rogue Tumblr for Approx: 5 Months. (Not in any particular order. Also this is a meme.)

Year One: You probably needed a childhood to relate to/needed a justifiable reason to stan one of Gotham’s biggest criminals. (but if your childhood involves being half-eaten by crows i am VERY concerned) BTAS: The gateway drug Scarecrow. You’re probably a gremlin, and also really like the Dork Squad(tm) TNBA: He’s under-appreciated, and you know this very well, but you’re also thankful that you get some of the coolest artwork of your favorite spooky boy. (Also the voice. 11/10 you want him to read sleepy hollow to you.) TAOB: You are one of the only 3 living fans of Adventures Of Batman Scarecrow, but you give absolutely no shit. You love that uncanny valley, near on clown-like scarecrow, and i feel bad for you, because you’ll probably never get art of them. Super Friends: I...Wow. Y’all really do exist... Galactic Guardians: YOU GUYS ACTUALLY EXIST TOO??? BATB: JAZZY. You like his hat, and his voice. You also probably enjoy a lot of older scarecrow designs as well. You get sad because you wish there were more content. The Batman (TV series): PFFT HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA (But seriously though, you poor, poor things...There, There...) Assault On Arkham: AA Scarecrow in an otherwise good movie. Basically, you’re sad he didn’t get more screen-time. At this point, just stan: Arkham Asylum: ABSOLUTE GOBLIN OF A HUMAN. One of the gateway drug Scarecrows that lead you to The Rogues fanbase in the first place. You either love the serious artwork of him, love him drawn/written as a gremlin, or are STILL offended by his lack of footwear. Either way, you adore him and will remind everyone of it. Arkham Knight: OH FUCKING BOY. This can go one of two ways. 1.You love his writing (or don’t, but still stan), his poetic dialogue and his voice, and you also love how much he hams up the fear factor. You probably adore every artwork of him you see, and you REALLY love reading any fan-written material of him. You have many headcanons, and probably have googled A LOT of stuff to make them more genuine. Or 2. You are very, VERY horny... (But as a good friend once said, “these are not mutually exclusive.”) Nightwing And Robin: Aw, y’all are so cute! Here, have some tea with the SF AND GG Fans, I think they have Earl Grey over in the CORNER OF IRRELEVANCY. (But I feel bad for y’all too.) Unlimited: BEEF BOY. You’re either in the group of people that love Scarecrow designs that use scythes, or you like how strange, yet fun his appearance is. Most art of him is super colorful too. There aren’t very many of you, but the amount of you that I’ve seen seem like super cool people. You all probably also enjoy the next one: Batman/TMNT: You knew the movie was a wild ride from start to finish, but you love it. You probably also like birds (I know, really obvious.) There aren’t many of you, but you like the idea of a corvid-like Scarecrow, and you wish for more. Or...You may be a furry that also likes DC stuff, and that’s ok too! We too also oddly love that weird ass cobra joker anyways. Salecrow: You love his rhyming (which is arguably the best thing about him), but are also annoyed by the fact that most content of him use the same 3 images every time. You’re probably in the same boat as all the other scarecrow fans that genuinely want a proper medieval themed version of him. If you write/draw him, you’ve googled endless nursery rhymes. Its like Dr.Seuss up in this bitch. Also, them hands. Blackest Night: Chances are you’re still amazed that your favorite bag-headed master of fear even HAS that thing. You REALLY want him to wear that damn ring again, and will probably pay an arm and a leg to see it happen in a form of animated media. You also have very interesting artwork/writings of him. And your head canons are outlandish, but in the most fun way. (Seriously though, Hatter with a ring, huh...) Injustice: You either love the concept of The ScareBeast, or you’re here for the fact that hes voice by FREAKING ROBERT ENGLUND. Admittedly, you probably aren’t all too good at fighting games, but you still insta-lock him despite that. The Dark Knight: Cillian Murphy portrays the character rather well, but you either are unnerved by his strangely dreamboyish face, or would wish for a slightly older actor. But!!! Despite all that!!! You love him, and probably still quote “WaNnA sEe My MaSK???” (Although I see some of you get absolutely tired of that lol) I don’t see any loyal fans of him, but everyone seems to agree that he’s not too shabby (heheh... shabby...) Gotham (Tv Series): ...Hello? Where are you guys? I KNOW you exist! Show yourselves! Jokes aside, you either love him or hate him. Live action scarecrows seem to be a hit or miss for some. Harley Quinn (Tv Series): Softies. You adore everything about him. His dialogue, his humor, his very surprising accent, and his, albeit a stretch, questionable sexuality implications. Most art of him is very wholesome and good, probably because you’re STILL not over...Well... Maybe its better if I not mention it (all fans of him are the “If I see anything happen to them I’ll kill everyone in this room and then myself” meme.). Detective Comics: Hroo Hraa, my friends. Hroo Hraa. Whether it’s his “Queer grasshopper leaps” or his strange laughter onomatopoeia, you can’t get enough of his antics. Nothing beats a classic, and the fact that there are still many of you that are fans of him makes me smile. New 52/Prime Earth: One of the few scarecrows that greatly changes his childhood, but you welcome the idea of it. He’s a very unsettling looking guy, but you’ll remind everyone that his writing makes up for it. He’s mostly treated like a semi-C tier villain in the continuity, but every time you see him you’re like “!!!!!!!”.You most likely have a list of every issue he appears in so you don’t have to suffer, and your heart still breaks when you read the scene with him and that one girl. (He said he was sorry, guys.) Batman:Hush: 2 and a half sweet and savory minutes of this guy, only for him to get kicked in the face? Nay, Nay, you say! A crime, you holler! You go to your keyboard to tell your friend about how good his character design is, and how well animated he was, but alas they say “that’s nice, bud.” Blast it all... The Lego Batman Movie/Lego in general: Our boy at his most gremlin. Sure, you know this is a 99% children’s medium, but that doesn’t stop you from smiling like a dummy every time you see him. He’s funny, he’s delightful, and he has... a weird obsession with planes? What is it with them and putting him in planes? Maybe he got a pilot’s license before he attended university? What a smart little block person! Obviously, I left out quite a few here, but these seem to be the most popular. There are SO many comic renditions of him, so It’d take my forever. (My poor fingies already hurt!) But please enjoy this silly little thing :’]

#tube says something #scarecrow #jonathan crane #gotham rogues

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ala-mhinyan · 4 years

Text

VIII :: Clamor

{ TW: Vomit, Panic Attack / Manic Episode } { Ft: @talesfromthegameff14 and @realmoffantasy }

Today had been a bad day.

C’tolemy’s morning had been fairly normal; somehow he managed to unlace himself from the grip of the slumbering Xaela wrapped around him, loath to move out of bed but knowing duty called in a way he was never going to be able to ignore. Slithering out of bed always woke Ayanga up, even if his movements were careful and slow--yet he always soothed the older man’s anxious nerves with several sleepy kisses to reassure him that the person moving about the room and getting out of their bed was indeed C’tolemy.

The Xaela never went immediately back to bed once the Seeker had gotten up and was moving about their room; instead he would turn in their bed and prop his head up on an arm to watch his half-naked, pregnant husband go through the motions of getting dressed in his usual leather robes and adorn his daggers at his hips. Just before he was about to turn and leave, a touch to his hip caught his attention--feeling hands and a brush work their way through his unruly riot of curls.

C’tolemy couldn’t help but to laugh as Ayanga murmured something about the man looking like he’d walked through a storm with his hair caught in a net. The little affection had been just the thing he’d needed to really wake up, letting his mind wander to the tasks of the day that were going to be demanding of his attention--all the while completing missing that Ayanga had finished his preening of his husband and was stepping around him to place a gentle kiss against his lips. Startled, C’tolemy let out a feline noise of surprise, only to feel his husband laugh against his lips as he hauled the Seeker against his chest in a spinning hug.

He’d spent an extra ten minutes just kissing the man and holding him, reveling in their affections before he absolutely needed to leave.

They parted with the sweetest of kisses, blessings both given and taken.

Buffed by sand and wind, C’tolemy’s trip back home to Ala Gannha was routine as always; arrive, greet the chieftess and schedule out the day’s plan. Look over provisions. Look over the nursery. Check on those within the ton to see if any were combat ready--check on his mother, see to anything she needed. Remedial tasks that meant everything to him. Everything should have been the same as always…

But it wasn’t.

The clamor didn’t start until the Seeker had begun to look over the provisions; sharp ears catching a few of his tribesmen doddling by a tent, their eyes on him while he moved. He didn’t pay too much attention to the looks, he was used to them--however, today he’d felt them just a bit more keenly than he’d previously expected to… and he turned his head just in time to catch them pointing at the noticeable bump along his belly. His facial reaction must have given him away; they all turned their heads and quietly excused themselves just after. They’re looking at you. What did you do wrong? What did we say? What did we do? Am I messing up? What’s wrong? What did I do?

The rest of the day he spent being hyper aware of his body; how it moved, how it looked, what would accent the bump, how many people watched him and where they looked. It startled him to know how many people had had their eyes on him that he hadn’t previously noticed, and more so, what that meant about how they perceived him. Some looked at him with something that resembled disappointment… Mayhap because they weren’t the one to get the man pregnant themselves or the fact that after all of his vehement dismissal of the idea, he’d let an outsider do the deed instead. Some looked at him with envy, green at the ears that he carried--viciously starved for the notion that he would be giving birth to the next Ankobia.

Would it be a boy? Would it be a girl?

Was he open to more partners? Could they, possibly with enough motivation and goading, seed the Master Hunter themselves?

A commodity. Something to conquer. Someone to trophy him. The world is on fire and it’s not. The world is swimming and it’s not. I’m not asking for this. I didn’t do anything wrong. Why are they staring? Why won’t they stop staring? What did I do? What did I do? What did I do?

Their commentary, both real and imaginary echoed in his skull and rattled the whole of his confidence--to which the other facets of his brain attempted to compensate for; only to make matters worse. Conversation between each alter rapidly turned into arguments, which rapidly descended to screaming matches that deafened and disoriented him--putting him in a dangerous situation mid hunt; nearly speared through the side by a bucking gazelle, saved in the nick of time by his instincts alone. It was enough to rocket anxiety and terror through his blood; enough that he visibly went about protecting his middle--enough that he showed his own hunting party a weakness they’d never seen him exhibit before.

He felt their silent, questioning, judging eyes all the way back to the tribe.

The rest of it had been a blur. They know you are weak.

Before he knew it he was whipped through the Lifestream and expunged, a jumbled mess, in a heap at the front gate of his Shirogane home. Bile rushed and burned its way up his throat and he vomited on cool stone, only to stumble his way into the door--rattling it, then opened it and slumped his way inside. Melody was already there, sharp eyes and keen ears catching the commotion--a young girl trained by experience to be wary of such intrusions. That the intrusion was her father of all people, looking like he’d been hungover for hours no less, as the source? It sent a bolt of an unexplainable terror down her spine.

If she had said anything to him, he couldn’t hear it. But he could see her face; the worry. Was it worry or disgust? Why is she looking at me? What did I do wrong? What did I do? What did I do? WHAT DID I DO?!

Feet carried him down the steps, nearly tumbling and falling as the cacophony of screaming voices in his head grew in intensity--shouting over one another just to get a foot in the door edge-wise. Getting down the steps felt like he’d been walking forever--and with his senses thrown out of wack and his body overclocking at all cylinders, nothing seemed easy.

The bedroom was too wide, too bright.

The bathroom? Too cold and dark.

Where could he go? What could he do? What would make it all stop? Light filled his eyes, blinding him even though his eyes were closed--or were they? The world tipped, spun and went black. He’s suffocating. Why can’t I breathe?

Just before he fell, he reached through the bleakness for help.

.::.

That was how Ayanga found his husband; a trail of discarded clothing leading from the bathroom door to Terbish’s room--a blanket tossed over the hanging cleft of the rise leading to the lofted part of the room. In the tiny crawl space below the stairs lie his pregnant mate; curled up in a nest made of pillows, stuffed animals and the blanket from their bed. He was asleep, thankfully, but the strain of the day was made clear from the tear tracks running down his face.

The Xaela did his best to explain the situation to Melody… but there was no easy way to explain just what had gone on today.

Some days, for C’tolemy, were just bad days.

And there was no ‘fix’ for a bad day.

#ffxiv #ffxiv writing #ffxivwrite2020 #My writing #c'tolemy #ayanga #melody #some days are just bad days

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thecleverdame · 5 years

Text

Sleepy Hollow - Fourteen

Series Master List

Pairings: Sam x Reader, mentions of Dean x Jo

Summary: In 1799, specialized police constables Sam and Dean Winchester are sent from New York City to a small town called Sleepy Hollow to investigate a series of murders. Approached by the town’s council, the Winchesters discover the local residents believe that the murders are the work of a deadly Hessian horseman whose head has been mysteriously chopped off. With help from the beautiful Y/N Van Tassel, Sam Winchester’s investigation takes him further through the dark wood where more murders have been occurring. What Sam does not realize is that the mysterious Horseman is being controlled by someone in a sinister plot to kill the most suitable men in the village.

Warnings: Canon-level violence, murder, smut, horror, gore and a little fluff for good measure.

Words: 40k

Beta: ilikaicalie

This series is completed. You can read it on my Patreon for a monthly pledge of 2.50. This pledge includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content. >> CLICK HERE <<

THE SLEEPY HOLLOW WINDMILL

The interior of the windmill is large and shadowy, cluttered with forgotten boxes and old machinery, everything covered in layers of dust and cobwebs.

You’re still unconscious, lying in the dirt on the floor as Lady Van Tassel cuts off a clump of your hair with a large pair of shears. She holds it up in the lantern light, pleased with her efforts.

She’s prepared a conjuring pile containing a small animal’s heart with an iron nail through it. She adds your hair to the pile, then lights it with the lantern. With a grin she begins whispering over the fire, watching as you stir.

You blink awake, only to be met with the horrific sight of your stepmother pulling the Horseman’s skull from a bag. She places the skull in the fire, eyes fixed on the licking flames.

“Rise up once more, my dark avenger! Rise up! One more night of beheading! Rise up with your sword, and your mistress of the night will make you whole - a head for a head, my unholy horseman. Rise! Rise! Rise from the earth and come forth again through the Tree of the Dead! Come now for Y/N!” Far away, deep in the western wood, the wind scatters dead leaves. The twisted tree opens wide with a mighty rumble and shafts of light shoot out into the night.

Elsewhere, Sam and Dean are riding at breakneck speed toward the Van Tassel estate, coming as fast as the horse and cart will carry them.

You’re sure you must be seeing things as you sit up, rubbing both eyes. This has to be a dream, nay a nightmare. But your real-life fears are confirmed as Lady Van Tassel turns to you.

“Awake at last. Did you think it was all a nasty dream? Alas, no,” she offers sweetly. “My father saw the horseman kill you…” You shake your head, trying to make sense of it all.

“He saw the Horseman coming to me with his sword unsheathed!” she snickers. “But it is I who govern the horseman, my dear, and Baltus did not stay to see.”

“But there was your body!” you whisper. Surely she must a ghost or a ghoul.

“The servant girl, Sarah, I always thought she was useless but in the end, she turned out to be quite useful. Tomorrow I’ll totter out of the woods and spin a tale of how I found Baltus and Sarah in the act of lust...as I watched them, the Horseman was upon them! And off went Sarah’s head. I fainted and remember nothing more.” “Who are you?” You look at her in horror.

“My family name was Archer.” She steps closer.

There’s a flash of the hearth at the ruins of the cottage where you took Sam. “The Archer…” “I lived with my father, mother, and sister in a gamekeeper’s cottage not far from here. Until one day my father died and the landlord, who received many years of loyal service from my parents, evicted us. No one in the God-fearing town would take us in because my mother was suspected of witchcraft.” Your eyes flicker to a small figure sneaking out of the shadows, it’s young Masbath creeping up behind her. He raises his arms, holding a large wooden mallet.

“She was no witch.” Lady Van Tassel continues. “But I believe she knew much that lies under the surface of life. And she schooled her daughters well while we lived as outcasts in the Western Woods. She died within a year and my sister and I remained in our refuge, seeing not a soul…until gathering wood one day we crossed the path of the houseman. It was the Hessian that happened upon two young girls gathering firewood. I saw his death that day, watched him buried in a grave. And from that day I offered my soul to Satan if he would raise the Hessian from the grave to avenge me.” “Avenge you?” You ask, trying to keep your gaze from Masbath who’s quietly working his way behind Lady Van Tassel. “Against Van Garrett, who evicted my family. Against Baltus Van Tassel who, with wife and simpering girl child, stole our home. I swore I would make myself mistress of all they had.” She cackles, pleased to share the next bit of information. “The easiest part was the first. To enter your house as your mother’s nurse and put her body into the grave, and my own into the marriage bed.” “No!” You cry out, clapping a hand over your mouth. “Not quite so easy was to secure my legacy, but lust delivered Reverend Steenwyck into my power. Fear did the same for Notary Hardenbrook. The drunk Philipse succumbed for a share of the proceeds, and the doctor’s silence I exchanged for my complicity in his fornications.” Masbath moves out into the open, weapon raised. You see him and stifle a gasp, keeping her attention.

“Yes! You have everything now!” you sputter. “No, my dear, you do. By your father’s will. But I get everything in the event of your death.” She reaches out for the mystic bauble on your neck, ripping it free. “This pretty little charm, which I so kindly gave you to wear, has done its work. My sister, by the way, sadly passed away quite recently. She was just an old crone living in the woods. She tried to help your precious constable and I had to put an end to her. It’s her charm you’ve worn around your neck. A token from the dead.” Masbath is about ready to bring the mallet down upon Lady Van Tassel’s head.

“You killed your own sister?” “She brought it upon herself.” Like a whiplash, she turns, laughing at Masbath. “By helping you and your master!”

Masbath shrieks and drops the mallet to the floor with a thud.

“You are just in time to have your head sliced off!” she screams.

You scramble to your feet as Masbath runs into your arms. Thunder booms and lightning lights up the sky as Lady Van Tassel looks up.

“The Horseman comes! And tonight he comes for you!” You hold Masbath’s hands, clutching each other in fear. Lady Van Tassel picks up the Horseman’s skull in her gloved hand and tips back her head to give a long, animal howl. In the distance you hear the screech of a horse answering back. You turn to run, taking the boy with you and Lady Van Tassel just watches in amusement.

“Run!” She calls. “Run! There is no escape from certain death!”

VAN TASSEL HOUSE

Sam leaps from the coach, and runs up the porch stairs. “Y/N!” He pounds on the door.

“Sam,” Dean draws his attention to the firelight at the Windmill in the distance. Both men leap back onto the coach and take off.

WINDMILL

Thunder booms and the wind howls. Lady Van Tassel stands in the doorway with the skull in her hand, laughing up into the night. You pull Masbath behind you, only to be met with the sight of the coach driving toward you and the heart-bursting sight of the Constables Winchester. “Sam!” you yell, so happy to see him that tears spring to your eyes. He’s come back for you.

The coach stops and he jumps down as you go to him, throwing yourself into his arms.

“Thank God,” he murmurs, holding you tight.

Lady Van Tassel’s mad laughter is heard and you turn to see her on horseback. Along the treeline the horseman breaks into the open, galloping at full speed.

“Hell on horseback,” Sam breathes, holding you tighter. “He’s coming for me.” With a cry you pull away, ready to run. “Have you come back to arrest him, constables?” Lady Van Tassel calls.

Sam thinks fast, moving to the windmill, your hand in a death grip. Dean follows with Masbath in tow. “Do we have a plan?” Dean calls out. “Quickly!” Sam ushers them up the ladder. Behind, the wind tosses Lady Van Tassel's dress and hair. She holds the Horseman's skull high. Young Masbath scurries up the ladder and in. You’re next, then the two brothers just as the Horseman is upon you. The Horseman dismounts, stalking forward.

Sam leaps up, lifts the heavy trap door on its hinges, slams it shut. The door is pounded from outside, buckling. “It won’t hold!” Dean shouts the warning, backing up with the boy behind him.

Sam goes to a large grindstone against the wall, rolling the heavy piece onto the trap door where is falls with a thud. A sword jabs up through the grindstone’s center hole. The sword withdraws and the pounding continues. You back away, joining Masbath as Dean moves forward to Sam’s side. Sam holds up his lantern, looking desperately around the room.

Above, to the right, is a high milling platform, where flour is ground and bagged and a ladder leading to it. To the left is a crooked, open staircase.

Sam picks up two bailing hooks, giving one to Dean. He hands off his lantern to you and points. “Get up these stairs. Open the door to the roof and wait.” You obey, heading left to the crooked stairs as Sam and Dean cross to the right, climbing the ladder to the milling platform. Once on the platform, Sam grasps a wooden lever, pulling it. The entire windmill creaks and groans as massive gears and counterwheels above begin to turn.

Outside the windmill's rotors slowly start to spin as the Horseman tries to chop his way inside. You look down from the stairway, the pounding on the trapdoor making the grindstone jump. “Sam,” you call, looking to him.

“Keep climbing, Y/N. It will be alright, I will follow.”

“You hope,” Dean mutters under his breath.

Dean drags large bags of grain, lining them up at the edge of the milling platform. You and Masbath throw open the door to the roof. Using the baling hook, Sam cuts holes into the grain bags, so that milled grain spills out and falls onto the floor below creating a cloud of grain dust. He grabs one bag and slices it open, dumping all the contents. Then he guts the sack hanging from the pulley system, pushing it so it swings in circles, grain flooding out. More dust rises, filling the air.

You crawl out onto the roof, standing next to Masbath, gigantic rotors spinning behind you. The grindstone blocking the trap door falls through as wood splinters and gives. A moment later the Horseman climbs in.

“Behind you!” You warn, looking down from above. Sam looks down, seeing the Horseman, then looks to the staircase from the height of the platform. “We must jump.”

They both take off in a sprint, leaping across the space between the platform and the stairs. Dean grasps the railing, pulling himself up and then helps Sam to safety.

Below the Horseman moves through the cloud of billowing dust, running and leaping incredibly high. He grabs the hanging chain, swinging, his momentum carrying him in a wide arc. Above, Sam and Dean run upstairs to the roof door. The Horseman uses his weight to swing himself toward the stairwell. He releases the chain and becomes airborne, landing high up on the stairs. You help Sam onto the roof, as Masbath does the same for Dean.

“Quickly!” you cry out. “Close it!”

“No,” Sam takes the lantern from you and points. “Get to the crest of the roof and be ready to jump.” “Jump?” Masbath looks to Dean in horror as the eldest Winchester places a hand on his shoulder. The Horseman clomps upstairs, ax in hand. The Winchesters shepard you and Masbath to the edge where the rotors spin close.

“Jump for the sails,” Sam explains, placing a hand on each shoulder. “Wait till I give the word.” “Sam!” You panic, tears falling. “I can’t-”

“Yes you can, my love.” He smiles gently. “Hand in hand, we will jump together. Get ready.” Sam moves back to the trap door. You and Young Masbath look at the rotors, and down at the long distance between them and the ground. “Be ready…” Sam cautions and drops the lantern into the windmill and runs.

“Now!” Sam runs toward you, reaching out to take your hand as you both jump. You hit one rotor, gripping the frame and cloth as it begins its downward turn. Inside the lantern hits the ground and shatters as flames explode. Throughout the windmill’s interior, grain dust is consumed instantaneously, the fire roaring upward, engulfing the Horseman. The rotor is halfway to its lowest point. The four of you hang on in desperation as the entire structure trembles. Flames shoot out the windows, doors, and seams of the structure.

Sam struggles to keep his grip on you as you both slide. Dean and Masbath drop as you and Sam fall with a shout. You hit the ground with a thud.

“Are you alright?” Sam asks, rolling toward you holding his shoulder.

“I will be.” You scramble to your feet. The four of you run away as smoldering debris rains down.

Sam keeps you close as you run, heading uphill. Lightning flashes across the sky, thunder cracking.

Behind, the windmill begins to crumble, huge burning sections crashing to the ground. You all stop to look back at the incredible conflagration. “Is he dead?” Masbath asks, moving closer to Dean.

“He was dead to start with. That’s the problem.” Dean delivers deadpan, staring at the spectacle before them.

“Look!” You point, pressing yourself against Sam.

Out of the rubble the Horseman rises, shoving off burning debris from his shoulders. His flame-ravaged uniform smolders.

The Winchesters turn to each other searching for possibilities. Dean spots the coach and the horses not too far away. “Come on!” he yells, gripping Masbath by the arm. Sam picks you up, just as he did in the Western Woods, long legs carrying you faster than you could ever run yourself. “Get in.” He sets you on the ground, helping you inside the coach with Masbath and shutting the door.

The coach hits the long straight road, rumbling at top speed away from the Van Tassel Estate, into the forest. You and Masbath both look out opposite windows as the trees whip by.

“Where are we going?” you scream as Sam looks back to you. “Anywhere!”

“He’s right behind!” Masbath screeches. The Horseman gives chase, closing in fast. “Make for the church!” you suggest, heart thumping faster and harder.

“We’ll never reach it!” Dean calls back. Young Masbath grabs Sam's satchel and offers it out the window.

“Here sir, you must have something in your bag of tricks.”

“Nothing that will help us, I am afraid. Get out here and take the reigns.”

Masbath crawls out the window, and into the seat, taking the horses. Sam and Dean each take a rifle from their stations, crawling side by side onto the roof of the coach. Sam gets to a baggage area at the rear, struggling to open the storage box.

Behind the Horseman draws his sword, getting closer. Sam opens the box and pulls out a jagged hand saw.

“What are you planning to do with that?” Dean yells, looking to Sam as if he’s insane.

“Look out!” you shout.

Sam looks up as the Horseman rides up, swinging his sword. Both men recoil, the sword narrowing missing. The Hessian falls back, letting the coach ride ahead, shifting to the other side of the trail and coming alongside again.

Sam scrambles back, shouting to Masbath. “Keep him off! Block him!”

Masbath guides the horses over to the other side of the road, the Horseman falling behind to avoid the wheels and slowing his stead. One wheel hits a large rock, Sam is thrown in the air and drops the saw, sliding off the side of the coach as the saw clatters on the road. He tries for better purchase, gripping the coach door.

“Take my hand,” Dean shouts, looking over the top of the coach, reaching to his brother. Sam reaches up but the coach door falls open, his pistol falls from his holster and is lost on the trail. He clings helplessly to the door as branches slam into him. The Horseman, now on foot, stands in the middle of the road with Dare Devil behind him. To your horror, the coach slows until it eases to a stop in the middle of the road. You climb out as Sam gets to his feet, Dean and Masbath joining to examine the ruined wheel.

“This is not good.” Sam looks to Dean as earnest panic sets in. “He’s coming for her.”

“We’re doomed,” Masbath breathes with tears in his eyes.

“Not yet,” Dean grabs his arm “We have to get out of the open somehow. Follow me.” You turn to run, but Sam stops you, grabbing your shoulders to pull you back against him. Riding over the crest of the hill comes Lady Van Tassel on her white horse, with Sam’s pistol in her hand. “What? Still alive?” She calls out, eyes trained on you.

“Run, Y/N!” He places a hand on your waist, urging you to move. “Go now, we will hold her off.” “Sam, we have larger problems.” Dean nods to the Horseman who’s now walking in their direction. Lady Van Tassel points her gun at you. “Yes, do run little bird. And skip.” She takes aim. “And now let’s see a somersault.”

“Run!” Sam gives you a final look and turns, running full bore at your stepmother. She aims at him and fires, shooting Sam in the chest and he instantly falls to the ground.

“No!” you scream, turning back to run towards his limp body.

Dean cries out, dropping to his knees beside Sam. You scamper toward them but Lady Van Tassel intercepts you, grabbing you by the hair. “Let me go!” you scream, trying in vain to twist away from her. “Let me go to him!”

She pulls you off toward the Horseman as Sam lays with a smoldering wound in his chest as Dean lifts his head. “Oh God, no...no...no,” Dean shakes his brother. “Wake up! Don’t leave me now.” Your captor drags you as you scream and kick and struggle, anything to get away as the Horseman closes in. She stops her horse halfway to the Horseman, dropping you into the dirt before riding away shouting.

“There she is. Take her, she’s yours!” You get up to run, but instead, stumble and fall as the Hessian strides toward you.

In the field Sam’s eyes pop open as he gasps for air, feeling his chest with both hands. He doesn’t understand what’s happening, struggling to shake off delirium. “You’re not dead,” Dean laughs, slapping him on the shoulder.

“Not yet.” Sam sits up, watching the scene that’s unfolding.

Lady Van Tassel is turned on her horse with her back to them, keeping her distance from the Horseman. Beyond her, you flee in his direction with the Horseman at your heels. Then Sam sees it, the black saddle bag slung over Lady Van Tassel’s horse. He gets to his feet out of pure determination, unwilling to lose you.

You’re running and screaming, in full panic as the Horseman closes in. Lady Van Tassel is watching, grinning unaware as Sam begins to sprint at her, leaping and tackling her off her horse. He takes her down to the ground hard and her bags fall open as the Horseman’s skull rolls out. Sam scrambled toward the skull but falls as Lady Van Tassel grips his legs, holding him. Sam looks up, the Horseman is now mere yards from you as you tremble in fear. Sam struggles to free himself as Dean moves in holding a tree branch and brings it down on Lady Van Tassel’s head. The Horseman grabs you, holding you by the hair as you fall to your knees, pleading for your life. Sam scrambles to his feet, picking up the skull and throwing it with all his might.

“Horseman!” Sam yells, pointing toward the skull.

The Horseman drops you, reaching up with a hand and catches it. You run toward Sam and he meets you halfway, grabbing you as you fall. Taking your hand he pulls you away. The Horseman holds the skull out, bringing it to his shoulders, to its rightful place as thunder pounds in the sky. A transformation begins, blood and flesh rising up from the Horseman’s throat to grip the skull as you all watch, dumbfounded. The Horseman’s reformation continues, muscle forming, liquid becoming solid as he is made whole once more and you see the evil human face you’ve heard about in your father’s stories.

He looks to you and Sam, touching his restored face as Daredevil rides up to claim him. He replaces his sword and climbs into the saddle.

He rides towards you and Sam but passes you by as you both collapse, exhausted to the ground. Dean and Masbath scramble to your side. The Horseman leans down to grab Lady Van Tassel’s unconscious form, pulling her up onto the horse's back and rides away with her.

You look at Sam, shaking and crying as you reach out to kiss him, reveling in the feeling of his hand cupping your face and his lips pressed to yours.

“You saved me,” you breathe, looking into his eyes.

“We saved each other.” Sam smiles, turning to his brother and Masbath. “How are you two?”

“Weary, sir,” Masbath confirm.

You spy the bullet hole in his clothes, pressing your finger into it.

“I thought I’d lost you,” you sputter, unable to hold back the tears that are now flowing.

Sam reaches into his vest, pulling out the book he’s kept in his inner pocket, close to his heart, The Books of Spells with a bullet lodged in it.

He grins and you wrap your arms around him, burying your head in his neck.

WESTERN WOODS, TREE OF THE DEAD Hoofbeats grow louder as the Horseman enters the clearing holding Lady Van Tassel, the Tree of the Dead awaits his return.

The lady awakens, the Horseman grips her hair, pulling her face close to his just as her eyes open. She screams and the Horseman kisses her, his jagged teeth sinking into the flesh of her mouth. Ahead the twisted tree’s wound opens, deep and glowing as the horse picks up speed. Daredevil jumps into the air as a lightning bolt blasts down from the sky, striking the Horseman. For an instant, the Horseman and horse are transformed, skeletons of lightning entering the tree. There is silence and smoke, and when it clears Lady Van Tassel’s hand sticks out from the tight-shut suture. The sewn wound on her palm seeps blood as her fingers curl inward.

#sleepy hollow #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester au #sam winchester fanfiction

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sintheyokai · 5 years

Text

Trapped Within a Red Blanket

Oct 17th: Knife play || Sixty-nine || Restrained/Bondage

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Suitor: Shakespeare x Kat (OC)

Dedicated to: @alloveroliver and @humi-and-co (because the latter wanted to see this)

Additional tags: "sleepy" Sex (one sided- one person is sleepy because they just tired all the time)

Warning!! Knife play + oc that's immortal = a lot of stabby stabby McStabber stab- aka, a sleepy bitch bouta get stabbed. Also mention of how oc drinks blood

*Kat is the female presenting form of the sin Sloth.

**I am going to try my DAMNDEST to write Shakespearean imma probably FAil

***First time writin knife play I hope I do this right (i've only read one other knife fic)

Twas an early summer morning in 19 century France.

And Kat wasn't quite sure what was happening.

Yes, she was aware of the silk around her ankles and chains around her wrists that kept her attached to the bed.

And she was definitely aware of the cold, sharp point pressed into her hip that threatened to pierce the skin.

And she certainly was aware of the naked man who hovered above her, peering down at her own naked body with multicolored eyes and holding said knife.

Her lover.

"Shakes?" she croaked, still not fully aware of how she got in this predicament and half asleep despite the knife at her hip, "What's the occasion?"

"None, my love," the playwright cooed, digging the knife tip into Kat's hip, "I simply wish to see with mine own eyes what fills thee with ecstasy."

He suddenly dug the knife halfway into his dearest's hip, and she flinched.

"Not gonna lie..." she yawned, "I felt that a bit."

"Dost thou wish to spur me further with thy words? Surely you jest! To only feel but a portion of pain?"

Kat gave a sleepy and sultry giggle.

"Maybe~"

Shakespeare leaned down to kiss her, grip still firm on the weapon.

"Thy lips, my love...!" He breathed in between long, passionate kisses, "They taste of the sweetest nectar known to man. Methinks t'would be a sin to fain share with another~"

He pulled the knife out, now bringing it to her collarbone. Before pressing it, however, he moved himself so that his face was in front of the earlier wound. Slowly, he dragged his tongue over it, and began to softly suck her blood.

She groaned, arching her back as best she could with the restraints. She could've sworn his tongue went in a little.

He brought himself back up to face her, a calm smile upon his face.

"Thy cheeks have bloomed into summer roses, oh gentle Kat! Could it be that I hath finally brought thee pleasure?"

Kat only gave a sleepy smile in response.

Will dragged the knife across the flesh beneath her collarbone; she jumped at the dull and slightly painful, yet pleasurable sensation of it being sliced away. William smirked.

She was finally feeling it.

"Will..." she breathed with want, "Bite me~"

And he granted her request, sinking his fangs into the crook of her neck.

Heat quickly spread throughout Kat's body, pulsating from the mark. She writhed, unable to break free of her bonds, and the knife slowly made jagged, uneven cuts across her body.

He cut her more and more: a cut on her wrist, a stab wound in her shoulder, a long cut that measured the full length of her thigh. And each mark he inflicted, he would kiss and suck, occasionally bringing his mouth to hers so that she may drink a bit that he saved for her.

Blood soaked the bed, blood that she could easily replace as quickly as it left. Finally, the need for pleasure became too much for the demon.

"William, please!" she begged, squirming in a futile attempt to break the silk ribbons and iron chains, "Put it in!"

Shakespeare smiled and kissed his love sweetly.

"Patience." he whispered, "Patience my Juliet..." he pulled away, "Allow me to gaze upon thy graceful figure, trapped within a warm, red blanket."

He looked over her, occasionally dipping a finger between her opened legs or in a wound still bleeding.

"By all the stars in heaven above..." he breathed, "Thy eternal beauty only be enhanced by this blanket I hath covered thee with, and to gaze at thy body, all laid out for mine eyes only..." he quickly positioned himself , "Tis truly a blessing bestowed upon a mere creature as I~"

He thrust into her, starting at a moderate pace before relentlessly pounding his love. She cried out.

"Will! Oh Hell, Will! It feels so good, I want more~!!"

Every request to go faster, to go harder, to give her more of that intoxicating pleasure, he granted her.

They soon were at the edge of climax, heaving breath after breath as Kat's walls clenched tight around William's member.

"William!" Kat suddenly felt the knot inside her grow taut, ready to snap in an instant, "I-I... I-!"

She moaned loudly, nearly screaming in ecstasy as stars burst behind her eyes and she came.

Will continued taking her, following her not too long after her orgasm. He undid her restraints before collapsing by her side, panting heavily.

"Art thou satisfied on this blissful morn, my sweet?" he asked.

"Why're ya askin me?" Kat breathed, "You're the one that did everything."

Shakespeare chuckled, "True, true, so I did."

Kat turned to snuggle into her boyfriend's chest, closing her eyes, "Did Lacy or Puck catch any of that?"

He peeked over her shoulder to see the his pet tucked under the arm of the stuffed animal, which lay motionless on its stomach.

"Alas," he said, "It seems as though they are clueless to our previous ministrations, my Juliet. They sleep soundly underneath the desk."

Ka yawned, smiling softly, "That's... good..."

And she was asleep, dead to the world and all its troubles in a heartbeat, nose whistling lightly as she snored like a baby.

"Sleep well, my love." William whispered to her forehead.

"It appears we shall arise late this summer morn."

#AllOverKinkTober #ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevam #ikevamp oc #ikevam oc #my smut #smut #kinktober #ikevamp shakespeare #ikevam shakespeare

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greensconnor · 5 years

Note

hssca mc facts. baby time

i’m very sorry for the late reply to this but i was like “i’ll respond to this tomorrow” like 2 weeks ago and then i just didn’t

hssca mc: vivian marlowe

how tall are they?

look i haven’t been freshman aged for a Long time and idk how tall kids are anymore but as an adult she and her twin are both 6′0″ do i can safely say she is Tall for a child (john mulaney vc and everything)

how do they tend to dress?

vivian “if you perceive me i will literally have to die” marlowe just wants to look Normal okay. also she’s baby butch aes so lots of big, often fuck-ugly jackets, plaid/flannel, the same like 3 pairs of jeans and assorted flare-leg pants, big stompy boots…. literally anything that makes her physical form hard to gauge

do they like how they look?

she’s like what? 14? if someone looks at her for too long she’s like I Have To Get Plastic Surgery Immediately Or I Will Be Pelted With Tomatoes Like Quasimodo but the further into highschool she gets the more she stops caring so by the end of it she’s a lot more confident.

are they an only child or do they have any siblings?

she has a twin brother, philip, although she’s the oldest by like 5 minutes and she never. lets. him. forget. i also hc that their parents have fostered a few other older kids before them and they were the first ones they permanently adopted when they had a stable enough household to care for babies, so sometimes they get visits from those kids but they don’t rlly consider them family since they didn’t grow up knowing them, they’re more like family friends?

are they a morning person or night owl?

neither ): vivian can’t stay up too late without feeling sleepy and she also hates waking up early, but she typically tends to prefer mornings or daytime when it’s sunny!

are they a cat person or a dog person?

she always thought she was a cat person until she adopted sammy, her dog, and now she’s fully 100% dog mother of the century. she still likes cats but she has a newfound appreciation for dogs, especially the big, fluffy kind that seem intent on smothering her with cuddles.

got any favourite foods?

LOVES her parents pancakes but is also a really big fan of licorice which surprises people constantly. ajay and rory especially like to take the piss out of her for this but she knows its all in jest, plus if she brings licorice to theatre group meet ups then no one else will touch them except sometimes skye

how about favourite drinks?

MILKSHAKES all the way she loves chocolate milkshakes especially but every now and then she can be convinced to swap out for strawberry… not often tho

what are their favourite movies/tv shows?

going green or w/e as established by canon but i also thinks she probably likes things like the crown & the flame and then she stanned season 1 of riverdale but she had to quit season 2 after the musical episode she couldn’t do it. also she really likes disney/animated movies in general.

do they have any hidden talents?

acting is a very Visible talent i think but other than that not really? she has a bit of a useless talent for free-handing straight lines that she perfected because philip stole her ruler one year and she never bothered to get it back

do they believe in love at first sight?

yes… she’s 14 and romance is new and exciting and she likes to boast she fell in love with skye at first sight which makes her blush like… a lot… but !! either way, vivian is young and optimistic n of course she believes in true love and love at first sight, although philip and amber’s whole relationship kind of shook that for her

who is their love interest?

she’s dating skye! they’re very cute together and getting with skye is kind of how vivian came out to her family! she did have a crush on rory (and was very obvious about it) before highschool but she was really cagey about it because she wasn’t ready to be out, but now she’s really happy being in a relationship with skye!!!

what are they afraid of?

she’s afraid of raccoons and possums which skye thinks is hilarious, but how are you supposed to handle them! what are you supposed to do! over the hedge haunts her dreams! she also tends to be afraid of specific birds like magpies and crows/ravens.

what are their guilty pleasures?

she LOVES those bad disney movies. u know. the sequels that went direct to videos. the disney channel originals like radio rebel or whatever its called. she and philip sometimes spend sadtime sundays (if one of them has had a bad week and needs to Wallow) watching marathons of that kind of stuff.

what was their dream job as a kid? is it still their dream?

she wanted to be a knight and alas…. rory sniped her role… now her dream is pretty much to get into professional acting, both for stage and for screen depending on where opportunities arise, but she would still like to wear a cool suit of armor one day and look as badass as kenna rys in it

have they ever broken a bone?

she’s broken her arm once when she, rory and philip built a treehouse in the marlowe’s back yard. she was helping her dad and she slipped and fell. luckily, the treehouse still got built, but with extended safety precautions this time.

have they ever been in trouble with the law?

no she’s only baby but she will in trouble if brian crandall comes anywhere near his baby sister while she’s on watch like a rabid guard dog. she’s not afraid to bust both his kneecaps

+ three other random facts about them!

she’s not really a big fan of musical theatre, she only really likes cats (2019) because it’s just so wildly stupid, her celebrity crush is stephanie beatriz and she’s actually decent at sports because she used to help philip practice!

ask me about my choices mcs!

#sol.txt #answered #long post #anon #mc: vivian marlow #high school story class act #hssca #Anonymous

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azzura-knight · 5 years

Text

A Magicians Judge

My first writing for Azzura. I’m going to start posting stuff about her soon but hoo its late and I have class tomorrow,,,

Anyways!! This is supposed to take place a few days after the soul riders all met up at the camp site. I’m treating it like they have a few days before things start working and smoothing out

Slight spoilers warning for those not caught up on the new story quests!!

A magicians judge

Azzura stood in her clydesdale’s stall brushing away at his fur absent mindedly, not truly paying attention as she thought. The soul rider thought of Wednesday, of the campfire that she sat around with the others waiting to hear back from every grey and delve into Pandoria to save Anne. It wouldn’t be much longer now, would it? Things would work out… right?

The young girl huffed before leaning her head against the speckled bay’s side, earning a snort from the sleepy gelding at the sudden stop in attention. Azzura lifted her forehead and looked back at the large head and big eyes, suddenly getting an idea.

Rushing around the young girl grabbed a saddle and bridle to throw on Copper Eye, forgetting her own riding helmet in her haste to hop on him and venture outside. The wind picked up as soon as she exited the barn though, bringing the smell of a cooler breeze, as well as circus food and magic. A definite sign and call from the man she was going to see.

Taking a deep breathe to steel herself, Azzura nudged Copper forward with her heal all the while staring down the purple tent that was just visible over the hills past Steve’s Farm and silver glade village, just past the fenced area where there always seemed to be a lightness to the air. A circular area that always made her hair stand on ends and her pointed ears tingle.

A chill swept through the rider, making her fingers suddenly cold as she picked up the pace trotting down the road. Taking her time and never drifting her gaze from the purple tent that belonged to Ydris, Azzura opted to veer in the back way at the last second and avoid being seen by the pandoric man that wanders near the front of the hill. The same Hill Justin Moorland had fell on not a few weeks ago after slamming into a blockage.

Copper seemed to grow antsy as well as he Felt Azzura’s legs tighten more the closer they got, picking up speed slightly and lifting his head as if he were pulling a cart in a fair. Azzura let the Clyde go faster, happy for any excuse to get this over with.

There seemed to be a line that kept Ydris contained in the area, for as soon as she passed between the old stone fences that were beginning to fall and crumble, lightening seemed to dance along her skin. Her hair lifted as it did in Pandoria to float around her shoulders and her ears buzzed as if a storm were coming. She felt him as well, the deep pool of questions and mild insanity that was Ydris. Everything about him a dark purple almost like the void.

Azzura stared at the location she knew he was at as soon as she picked up on it, even with the tent in the way she was dead on. Slowing Copper to a walk as they passed out from behind and moved straight for the fortune tent. Though the tall man had his back turned she could almost hear his smirk. A hand lifted causing the wind to pick up once again and lift the flap in the fortune tent, though he did not turn. Azzura took a deep breath before sliding from the tall horses back. Her feet hitting the ground hard as she seemed to forget the height and her legs suddenly aching at the hit, helping her to steal herself once again. The bay turned his head a little, nudging his rider as she walked past him. Azzura touched his nose softly and smiled weakly before passing through the door.

As soon as she did the wind followed her in, Ydris in his chair with his arms crossed and eyes glinting like he had thought of a cruel joke just moments before. The light blue eye of his seeming to glow in the dimly lit area as Azzura stared him down. Suddenly, panic began to settle into Azzuras bones as she realized what a mistake she was making. Admitting her weakness to a man that had tried to bring forth Garnok not weeks before, a man that showed no mercy towards the young woman that shared half a world with him. As soon as Ydris spoke however, the cowardice fled, and only determination filled her mind.

“Ah, little flea. I see fate has tempted you back today, has it not?” The magician’s smile curled ever more, his eyes never drifting and never loosing light of his malice as he spoke. “Now I know you are here for insight on your oh so quickly approaching future, my crystal ball practically hummed when you entered my circus! I will give you the option though, shall a horse fortune ease your mind today, or are we to look towards something a little… closer to home for us.”

At the last words, Azzura suddenly steeled herself. Her eyes narrowing at the cocky man before her who’s fingers curled around the crystals holding his ball, a man that had been tormenting her as soon as she had begun to show any sign of Pandoric lineage. Who poked at her ears and treated her as a child. Young as she may be he wasn’t much older… right? Sure time was different for him but not aging.

“Tell me of my future Ydris, let’s not dance around this anymore then we need to” Azzura straightened her back a little bit, crossing her arms as she met the heterochromatic stare before her with equal fire. The malice faded to satisfaction on Ydris’ face as he gave a slight nod, leaning away from the soul rider and waving a hand as if thinking.

“Of course of course! I would have asked for no other way.” With that the man began to work, running a hand along the surface of the crystal ball as if to wake It up, the room brightening with its pink glow as the clouds inside swirled and lifted to show something to the man looking within. A hum and another over the top flourish later, Ydris looked back up to Azzura, a hand resting on the ball before him.

“Now wouldd be a good time to explore your ancient side. You try to hide this aspect of yourself from others, especially a certain relation. You know whom I mean.” Ydris voice came forth, seemingly underlaid by another, higher pitched voice beneath it that read along with his. His gaze never wavered from Azzura as she stared back at him, eyes continuing to narrow as he spoke.

“There is no point in fighting, everyone has an a client side - at least the most interesting people do! Your denial makes you look like a many-coloured bull, which is to say, a fool. Embrace that which makes you ancient! It will bring you bring you the time to give to yourself, and it is that very quality that makes you so dangerous in the relations eyes.”

When Ydris was done he lifted his hand and shook his head slightly as if ridding of a cloud around him. A half smile still played on his face, though everything seemed softer about him after the speech, despite the sour look on the one across from him, all wrinkled nose and furious eyes. Before Azzura could even attempt to open her mouth however, the magician pushed back in his chair and closed his eyes as if in woah.

“Alas- my crystal ball has fallen silent and cold once more! You drain her so my flea, and I must let her rest until tomorrows light.” The magician leaned on the table after speaking, resting a his head in a hand as he did and giving a clear indication that Azzura was to leave quite soon. The young girl just stared in anger for a moment longer before huffing.

“What do I owe you-“ Azzura began to pull out her wallet in reflex, grabbing a few coins in her fingers before stopping as a soft laugh slipped from Ydris.

“Nothing yet. For now your confusion and struggles with current mortality is all I need. Go visit the Moon, tell her to check her tea as you pass by for me.” The twisted curl set itself back on Ydris’ face, the kind of smirk that send another shiver down Azzura’s spine and quickly turning to leave as she stuffed her wallet back in a pocket.

As soon as she turned her back she felt a small gust of wind coming into the tent and the flap lifting outside, a cold feeling of fingers on her shoulder as she walked out. Once out, Azzura shielded her eyes from the sudden brightness of the sun, Copper coming over quickly to her side with a mouthful of grass and a carrot that he had stolen from the odd little Zony near the rest of Ydris’ animals.

Azzura gave the gelding a pat on the shoulder before heaving herself up into the saddle. As she turned towards the path to the tent, she saw that Ydris was back In his spot as if he had never left. Staring dumbfound for a moment, Azzura huffed before nudging Copper into a brisk trot past the magician, being sure to go fast enough he could not see the effects his magic had on her hair.

As she past Ydris she felt his eyes on her back the whole time, Not daring to turn around or slow down until she passed that invisible line yet again and nodding a goodbye to Zee. Once she had past it, Azzura stopped Copper and spun him so she could look at the ridiculously tall man on the hill, a frown set on her face.

Ydris had not looked away or wiped the knowing look from his face the entire time she had past him. The two stared for a moment longer before the magician tipped his hat and turned away. Azzura immediately nodded in response before turning back and walking back towards camp to meet Linda, Lisa, and Alex.

“I don’t know if it’s the sign we wanted boy, but I guess its the only sign he can give…” Copper only snorted in response, tossing his head and yanking on the reins as Azzura kicked the gelding up and let him stretch his legs as they took off towards Guardians Dale, feeling a little more grounded.

#sso #my story #my character #azzura #azzura gladehaven #sso story #drabble #oneshot #oof #idk how to tag this #ive been writing on and off instead of writing a report for my Tuesday class #its really late #but here you go #ur first insight on azzura

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almostinnerlight · 2 years

Text

Serindipity

I don't know where I am going with this or what is going to come out. I just know that life is rolling along and the writing is blissful. I wish that I could make money at this. It would be great to earn a living doing what I love so much. Blogging. I seriously thought about doing a cooking and traveling blog. But alas I don't travel. But I do go out to eat a whole lot. I could give many points of view. I have had good experiences and bad ones. Mostly good. How to make money on a blog though. I am going to have to check it out. I am having so much fun. It would be really neat to do it for a living. Or a side hustle.

So, my husband got up from his morning nap and I am going to get off here in a minute. Life rolls along at a clip. I am feeling pretty good this morning. A little bit sleepy. My insomnia was kicking in last night. No benadryl. Gotta get some more. who out there is an insomniac? I have been all of my life. Last night I worried about bomb shelters. The war in Ukraine is getting to me. And what would happen to my animals if there was an attack on our country. If we were taken over by the Russians or just attacked and occupied. There is a cyber threat. There is nuclear fear. Lots of stuff. You know, Idk about my family and their safety. But I worry about my animals. I worry about my dogs and cats. I worry about what would happen to them. Tater is a little yapper. She is older. Very attached to me and very nervous. Midnight and her puppies. Ten puppies. What do you do with ten puppies in a bomb shelter? Pretzel is a young large puppy. Seven months old at the end of this month. She is a chewer. My cats Lulu and Lovey. It bothers me to think that I might be away and unable to care for them all. In a strange world of danger.

Last night my Granddaughter and I heard a very strange noise. I hope it was someone's idea of a horn. It was a wailing whistle sort of. Then we go to the backyard and there is this weird light in the sky. A drone. The military is on the move. It is a scary. Life is scary. It just is. And the threat of Russia is not helping. Poor Ukraine. Fighting their hearts out for freedom that we take for granted. Or some people spit on. I wonder how many of them would burn their flag now. Like we do. Or dishonor the National Anthem? All the things that we have. Would we suddenly wish that we had it if we saw it destroyed and taken away? Wonder how many people in America would like to be suddenly overtaken by Communists? They think its cool but is it really when faced with being not free? Would they cry if Russia invaded and conquered The United States? All these little Democratic Socialists that kneel when the National Anthem is played....what would they feel like if the Flag and all our freedom was lost in a matter of hours or days?

#food blog #my furbabies #insominac #united states

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onepieceodyssey · 6 years

Text

A Sudden Abduction! Kumori’s Plot

Among the clouds in the sky, one lay lower than the rest. It sped through cutting the wind as if it were a bird racing for its prey. If one looked closer however, one would see a small man sitting on top of it with his legs dangling off the edge.He had a giant fishing pole in his hand and a sizable hook swinging at the end of it.

“According to our intel,the last known sighting of the kid was in Louge Town. I hope I’m able to get to him before he causes any trouble!”

The small man resembled a turtle in his outward appearance. His bald head was ill concealed by a Conquistador helmet that resembled a turtle’s shell. “Kukuku! This is such as easy job. I’ll climb through the ranks quickly once I’m successful in my mission! The captain will be so pleased with me. I wonder if he’ll give me my own fleet! Kukuku...”

It didn’t take too long to get to Louge Town and as he peered down into the streets, his own head was in the clouds. “I can just hear it now, ‘Oh, Kumori you’re so great! Oh, Kumori, your fleet is so big!’ Oh Kumo-”

He suddenly snapped out of his self induced trance and found his target. His face turned blue. His skin became clammy and his breath kept getting shorter. His target, the child known as Yras was on an execution platform! Now he knew he, himself was bad, being a pirate and all, but were the Marines really going to execute a child? And nobody was doing anything! At the very least, the child looked half asleep so there wasn’t a big commotion.

“I’ve got to think fast! If I try to fish him out with my hook, the Marines will spot me and shoot me out of the sky! There goes my dream…”

All of a sudden, a walking red panda followed by a large man went in to rescue the child. What an odd pair.. But wait! Just his luck! If those two are successful, he’ll just follow them and hook, line a sinker- the kid would be his.

It didn’t take too long for the group (who ended up being pirates, themselves) to take the rescued kid aboard their ship. Looks like they narrowly escaped the Captain of Lougetown as well! Gavel is one tenacious character.

Kumori followed them on their voyage. He wasn’t sure exactly where they were headed but it didn’t matter. Now that the kid was on the ship, all he had to do was reel him in when no one was looking; easy enough!

The smell of delicious barbecue traveled through the air. It filled Kumori’s lungs as his stomach growled. He looked around and below to see if his stomach had given away his location. Alas, he was safe.

On the deck of The Magnificent OP, the First Mate Jules was grilling up some honey barbecue kabobs with the ingredients acquired from Lougetown. Yras was watching with lots of interest as the Wolf Mink used her Devil Fruit power to multitask on the grill. She was marinating, flipping, controlling the temperature and a various other things on the grill.

“Wow wolf lady! You’re awesome! Where did you learn to cook like that? And your arms! You have so many!” Yras asked enthused at the spectacle before him. Just as she began to explain, Jules’ had finished cooking lunch for everyone. Just a few words into Jules’ explanation, Yras, seemed to lose consciousness and fell on his back. Worried for the kid’s safety Jules reached down to pick up the kid who seemed to hit the deck pretty hard.

Just before she could reach him, however, she felt a tug on the back of her clothes. Before she could think, she was flying straight up into the air!

She screamed but she had been reeled up so high up, her voice couldn’t reach her crew any longer. Almost as quickly as she was whisked into the air did she feel a cold and squishy feeling on her rear. Almost like a sponge or a pillow. It took a moment for her soul to catch up to her body- a whiplash of the mind! Once the haze in her head cleared, she realized she was on top of a small cloud. She even wondered if maybe she had died and gone to heaven! Her animal instincts caused her to yelp out a little bit at what she witnessed as she lurched over the edge of the cloud. The Magnificent OP was barely a dot on the ocean! Jules was at a loss for words. Her mouth agape in terror and confusion.

Just behind her, Kumori’s was also at a loss for words. His beak of a mouth wide open and his eyes practically bulging out of his head in surprise. Jules turned around to see the oddly shaped man staring at her with the same expression she had. They were quiet for a moment and then they both screamed out at the top of their lungs.

“WHO ARE-” Jules’ mouth was stuffed with fluffy clouds the moment she began to actually speak. The clouds weren’t just vapor though. They had a density to them, almost like the one she was sitting on.

Kumori was profusely sweating as he tried to think of what to do next. He quickly used his Devil Fruit powers again to wrap the wolf woman in a blanket of clouds to keep her from moving. Almost at that same moment, hairy wolf arms started to sprout from his own body and started swiping at him left and right.

“Ow! No- stop! Wait- ow! That hurts! Ah-ha! Please!”

He yelped and winced and cried! His Nimbus-Nimbus Fruit was getting weaker as was the hold on Jules. He knew that if he lost consciousness, they both would fall down to their doom. Kumori struggled to reach into a little chest next to him and pulled out a pair of cuffs. As he was continuously pummeled by claws, he managed to slip the “special” cuffs on Jules. The wolf arms suddenly disappeared and Jewels seemed to go almost limp. She managed to somehow eat the cloud that had gagged her and she started to say in a sleepy voice, “I’m gonna eat you whole if I get outta here! I’ll make Turtle soup! Turtle sashimi, Turtle Risotto! You stupid round bastard! Who the hell are you?”

Kumori was able to catch his breath finally as he winced from the now multiple cuts he had sustained. Anymore and he probably would be too beaten up to use his Devil Fruit powers to keep them afloat.

“I… I got the wrong one.” He said with heavy breath. I missed him! You… You stupid- er.. What are you exactly?”

Jules felt her energy being sapped away for some reason. It must be those handcuffs that were forced on her. She looked up at him in a daze, “what are you?”

“A talking wolf person with boobs?” Kumori said to himself. “Who am I to judge? Our crew has some pretty weird people too.”

Kumori composed himself as he sat up and wiped blood off his face. He couldn’t tell if it was from a nose bleed or from the wounds he had been dealt.

“I am Kumori, Envoy of the Chimera Syndicate! I am on a secret retrieval mission on behalf of our gilded leader. Although, you are most certainly not the target was aiming for. You leaned over just at the moment I had that little snot nosed brat in my sights! Dammit, this is no good! What do I do now? I can’t take you back to headquarters!”

Jules’ ears twitched.

“Snot nosed brat? You don’t mean Yras that sleepy kid do ya? What does a shell-for-brains like you want with a sweet kid like him? We’re just trying to take him home ya know!”

Kumori frowned at this as he seemed to get a bit more serious.

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to prevent. Not that it matters to you, but the balance of power in these seas has been thrown up in the air ever since this child’s homeland underwent a civil war. The result of that war opened up a lot of opportunities never before possible for the 7 Warlords. This world is about to be turned on its head, ku ku ku!” Kumori chuckled gleefully as his eyes started to glow with a demented sense of wonder. His new prisoner continued to struggle but the more she did, the weaker she became.

“You sure talk a lot of nonsense. Why do you even need me here anymore? Just let me go or I’ll roast you on a spit and glaze you with a white wine sauce!” Her stomach began to growl the more she talked about food and she was reminded of the barbecue she never got to eat. She was worried about her friends all of a sudden. She was starting to wonder if she would ever see her crew again.

Kumori stood up on his long lanky legs and looked down at Jules with a glowering, sinister look in his eyes

“Oh, well you see I can’t let you go quite yet. I just had the best idea yet! Ku ku ku...I’m going to use you as a bargaining chip to get the boy. Tell me, wolf girl: Do you think your crew cares about you enough to trade his life for yours?

“Don’t underestimate my Captain! Artemis is going to kick your a-mmmph!” Kumori stuffed another one of his clouds into her mouth to keep her quiet.

Kumori cackled as he followed the tiny dot that was the Magnificent OP. He watched on in great interest as he saw the crew navigate into the Calm Belt and got caught in the middle of a Sea King’s nest. It wasn’t too long after the pirates found themselves in danger that Kumori heard a scream. There was no physical shock wave, but he could still feel a tremendous energy from it. He almost passed out from how overwhelming it was! It was all over in the blink of an eye and the small turtle man was able to keep on following the ship across the Grand Line and onto an island he had never seen before! None of his sea charts listed it anywhere- strange…

Kumori plotted what he would do for several hours as he waited for the pirates to set sail once again. He didn’t get to see what they did with their time as he was scouting the several miles of ocean for another island. And alas, he found one! It was after some time and studying his charts that he discovered it was the infamous island of Calypso. The home of a terrible monster of legend. Those who enter the island are never to be seen again. Luckily for him, he had the luxury of staying safely in the air away from any danger.

The log pose of those pirates should point directly there since it is the only island remotely close by. They had basically ended up in the “backwater” of the Grand Line. Luring them there should be hook, line and sinker! Kumori was able to find a spot on the island to keep his bargaining chip locked away while he made sure her companions went to Calypso. It was only a matter of time before his mission would be complete.

#one piece #one piece odyssey roleplay d&d fatecore evilhat OC onepiecefandom one piece fan fic

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