#it's really been awhile since I last drew these three together huh...

[slimeshade]

#hollow knight #slimes doodles #just a little thing done between bigger stuff #it's really been awhile since I last drew these three together huh... #still not 100% sure about this design for hornet #but let's see‚ let's see...

[free-pancakes]

WRITE A LEVIHAN FIC ADTER THE FIRST WORD YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU SEE THIS LETTER: H

Alright moon, i thought of H for Hawkeye. Not sure if you're a Marvel fan, but here goes. I got a little carried away bc I love an AU where Hange is Hawkeye and Levi is Black Widow.

hope you like it <3

Levi held the tesseract in his hand, staring at its mesmerizing, light blue glow as he held it up to his face.

“Looks like we’re here for the same thing, huh, Mr. Ackerman?”

Levi quickly pulled the cube close to his chest, revealing someone standing on the other side of the room, staring right back at him. Her big brown eyes glowered behind thick-lensed classes, brown hair tied messily in a high ponytail. She swiftly reached back to reveal a bow and arrow, now pointed directly at him.

“If you hand it over, I promise I won’t kill you!” She said playfully.

Levi frowned and grit his teeth in annoyance.

“Are you mocking me, Four-Eyes?”

She laughed heartily— “Well, people usually call me Hawkeye, but you know what? I’ll let you call me that instead!” With that, she launched her arrow at him, Levi’s reflexes so fast, he dodged it right on time. However, he didn’t expect the arrow to explode.

The blast blew Levi off to the side, and soon Hange already had a hand gripped on his arm. He twisted to grab it, throwing Hange down right on her back. Levi reached for his gun, but she was too quick—Hange punched upwards to launch his handgun from its holster, sending it across the room. Levi quickly countered with a kick, sending Hange’s bow sliding across the tiled floor.

Off they were into hand to hand combat, each punch caught by the other, every kick countered with a dodge. Levi was thrown for a loop. He’d met his match.

It was the most frustrating fight he’s had for awhile, yet, he found himself smiling—and he could have sworn he saw a smile on her face as well.

Suddenly, explosions sounded from the ceiling, confusing Levi. Hange had already set the explosives prior to meeting him.

While he was distracted, Hange grabbed the tesseract, but Levi countered quickly, sending the cube flying. Levi ran as Hange scrambled for her bow. When she turned, a huge chunk of debris came falling towards Levi.

“Levi—wait!” She yelled. Luckily, she sent an explosive arrow towards it, blasting it and preventing it from crushing Levi. Smaller pieces showered down, but to Hange’s dismay, one piece of debris was still much too big. Levi stared up and it hit him straight on the head, his vision going black.

Levi woke up suddenly, quickly sitting straight up. His heart raced, and sweat beaded on his temple as he tried catching his breath. Disoriented, he looked around fast, blinking the sleep from his eyes. Once he came to his senses, he gasped and stared downwards—Hange was still asleep, her head rested on his lap. Safe.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he leaned back, staring up at the walls of the metal air vents they had been hiding up in for the last 5 days. Little scratches in the walls of word games, tic tac toe, stupid things to fill the time as they waited on the go from Erwin.

But Levi’s thoughts quickly switched back to dwelling upon his dream—clearly the first time he met Hange had been on his mind, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. They went from enemies to… whatever this was, real fast. This was their 10th mission together, and here they were, stuck hiding out in a small space inside the air vents of a subway station in Budapest. After finishing this mission, Levi would be taken in as a trusted agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. It was crazy how fast the tables turned for him—in a good way, for once.

He looked down, and rubbed the back of his hand against Hange’s cheek to wake her up. Her eyebrows furrowed as she woke, turning up to face Levi, giving him a little smile. Levi ran his fingers over the side of her covered eye, scratching away at the dried blood clinging to her skin.

“Get up, Hange. We have to change the dressing on your eye.”

Hange stretched sleepily, and sat up. Levi grabbed some supplies, and knelt in front of her, peeling the medical tape and gauze away carefully. He brought an alcohol pad, wiping away the dried blood.

“Can you see?”

Hange opened her eye.

“Yes, don’t worry! Though I’ll probably just have a nasty scar to remember this mission together forever!” she exclaimed with a tired laugh. Her persistent optimism never failed to surprise Levi.

“There’s been something on my mind, Hange.” “Oh, and what’s that?”

Levi hesitated, but continued with his burning questions—they spilled out of him so fast he couldn’t control himself.

“Why did you choose to save me that day? Why didn’t you just take the tesseract and run? Why did you think I’d be someone that should work as a part of S.H.I.E.L.D.? Why—“

Hange laughed. “Suddenly so talkative, Levi!”

Levi grumbled. “Just, can you answer??”

Hange grew silent for once. She thought back to when she was tasked to learn everything she could about Levi, following him all over the world. She remembered when her turning point was—a time when Levi planted explosives in a building, but rushed back in when he realized three innocent children had been lurking around where they shouldn’t have been. And that was when she learned something the world didn’t—Levi Ackerman wasn’t truly the cold-blooded killer everyone thought he was.

And she took her chance on that.

“Hm, well, I could almost say the same to you! Why did you choose to trust me? Why did you decide to stay with us? You had every chance to leave, it’s not like we had you imprisoned or anything this entire time?”

Levi thought about their first meeting—how he had never met someone else that matched an equal combat ability to himself. It grasped his attention quickly. But what really drew him to stay, was that Hange genuinely trusted him, stood up for him… believed in him. No one had ever done this for him since he was a child—only his mother ever did.

Levi laid the new set of gauze on Hange’s eye, and taped it down snugly.

Their true thoughts lingered in their heads, but neither of them could bring themselves to say their reasons out loud. Their eyes met for a moment.

A beeping roused them from their trance.

“Oh, must be Erwin,” Hange said with nervous laughter, trying to ignore the intimate moment they just shared.

She read the alert message. “Levi, it’s time to go,” she said with a serious tone.

“You ready to take down Zeke once and for all?” She said with a devious grin.

Levi smirked. Of course he was ready to fight with Hange—fighting back to back with her might actually be his absolute favorite thing in the world.

“Let’s do it.”

#levihan #levihan fanfic #levi x hange #levi ackerman #hange zoe #hanji zoe #avengers au #marvel au #lkafja;sldkf i love marvel so much and this was so fun to write oh gosh #wahhhh i loved it way too much bc im a big nerd #thanks for the ask moon! #ask #replies

[bigskydreaming]

And one more bit from the “Kings of the Sky” AU albeit several installments in, because I just......don’t know when or why I stumbled into an obsession with the dynamics between Dick and Jason and Cass as the eldest three Wayne siblings, but its there, its real, and its happening. I’ve stopped fighting it. I just....enjoy writing those three being dumb siblings who are dumb like so, so much.

Anyway, in this AU series, Jason doesn’t go to Ethiopia and die, but rather eventually joins Dick at Titans Tower more regularly and is Flamebird. Both are closer with Bruce here than in canon because Dick helped Bruce and Jason get through the Garzonas stuff and Jason helped kick Bruce in the direction of Dick and adoption papers right after the Brother Blood storyline. Then Cass is actually the third to join the family, by way of Babs, and she’s Batgirl and then Black Bat, but there’s a period of time when its just Dick, Jason and Cass as the Wayne kids. 

(PS - this is the same series as where Jason ends up with his own age group of Titans, and accidentally falls into a love quadrangle of doom that is absolutely NOT a polycule dammit, with Tom Bronson (Tomcat), Ray Terrill (The Ray) and Todd Rice (Obsidian). Which amuses his brother and sister to no end).

Tim and Duke are both next, but sorta at the same time? Like Tim’s story takes a sharp turn when Robin II never dies and obviously is Flamebird now like Robin I is Nightwing, and Tim winds up in foster care after his parents die differently than in canon. Duke is also in foster care at this time, though a different placement, and while no Robin has died here, its been awhile since there’s been one in Gotham, and to kids who grew up with the idea of there always being a Robin, that feels weird and wrong ultimately. 

So Tim and Duke both hit on the idea of being Robin like, at around the same time and totally disconnected from one another, and that leads to them both joining the Batfam around the same time, and co-sharing Robin until Damian arrives much later and they both move on to new identities. But there’s no real confusion between Robins because Duke is the daytime Robin with more yellow coloring in his costume and Tim is the nighttime Robin with more red, and people say Red or Yellow if they ever need to differentiate which Robin they’re talking about. Anyway.

************

So [Tim and Duke] run into trouble eventually and then when running from trouble they run into each other and they’re like….huh. Awkward. And then they decide well, might as well both run from trouble in the same direction, I guess. So they do.

“Did you have a plan for dealing with these guys?” Tim yelled at Duke. The other boy looked back over his shoulder briefly and gave what would probably have been a half-shrug if he didn’t awkwardly try to barrel-roll over a car two seconds later.

“Umm, sorta?”

“How sorta are we talking about? Maybe the two of us together could fill in the gaps in the plan and come up with one full plan?”

“Uh yeah, no, its not that kinda sorta. I meant sorta in the sense that I thought I had a plan but it didn’t work and that’s why these guys are after me. Sooooo…”

“Not helpful, basically.”

“Yeah. Pretty much. And hey, I don’t hear you offering up a plan! Did you even have one at all?”

“Uh….I mean I kinda didn’t think I was going to need one because I figured some kid running around in a mask making a nuisance of himself was the sorta thing that was bound to attract Batman. And so I was just pretty much running around until that happened, and then I’d make a case for how I obviously need training and Gotham needs Robin and if its not me its likely to be someone else trying eventually anyway so why not be me?”

Duke paused just long enough to squint at him. “That’s a terrible plan.”

Tim rolled his eyes. The effort didn’t pair well with his huffing and over-all exertions from running for his life and all that, but necessity demanded. “Yeah I know, that’s why I never said it was a plan! It was mostly….more…idea-ish.”

“I’m just saying, I thought I was doing this wrong, but at least I had a plan! I mean yeah, it might have ended up with me accidentally busting in on what I thought was a bunch of Riddler’s henchmen setting up some kind of clue thing, only it was actually a bunch of Intergang type guys with alien space guns or some shit all dressed up as Riddler henchmen for some reason? I dunno what they were trying to do honestly, but so yeah I might have ended up running away on foot from like twenty of them and some kind of hovercycle -”

“I’m going to cut you off there and say wherever this is going its probably not the superior vantage point I think you think you have.”

Meanwhile, Batman was not going to be coming because he’s off on a JLA mission. However, in his absence Dick and Jason are in town filling in, and they finished taking out the bad guys several blocks back and caught up to whomever was running from them, figured out the situation and are currently sitting on the edge of a rooftop watching them realize they’re totally lost and trying to figure out where to go from here. Mostly because Dick and Jason are incredibly amused listening to their back and forth and also just…this whole situation.

Dick justifies not piping up to let them know they’re safe now by saying this is good intel gathering so we can offer Bruce our assessment as to whether they’re gonna try and keep doing this whether we train them or not, and also how they handle this whole being lost situation. Not knowing they don’t have to run anymore isn’t going to hurt them and really, this is a good field exercise almost.

Jason justifies not piping up by saying this is fucking hilarious and I will hurt you if you end this any sooner than we have to, I deserve this, I had a rough week.

Which is right around the time that Cass pipes up from where she’s been lurking unnoticed behind them this whole time: “Oh no. Was it Tom? Or Ray? Or was it Todd?”

And she does it right in Jason’s ear so he kinda aborted-shrieks and almost falls off the roof except Cass is ready for that and grabs his arm to steady him.

“I hate when you do that!” Jason growls in an attempt to cover up how badly she got him and also because he hates when she does it which is why she does it a lot. Again, they don’t hate each other at all, but they do seem to act like it a lot, and neither of them is entirely sure why. They kinda just started doing it and have each been trying to get the other back ever since and ended up locked in an unending spiral of gotcha-gotchaback, except, y’know, Batfam style.

Dick occasionally picks sides just to muddy the waters. And then he randomly switches sides without warning, so neither of them ever wants to risk getting too peeved at him even when he’s helping the other, because that might push him fully over to the other side and leave them permanently outnumbered, so they’re kinda stuck, which is exactly as he likes it, lol.

“Why are you Satan,” Jason hisses dramatically as he gets up and stomps over to the other side of the roof to sulk, lest she almost knock him off again. Its not the almost falling part that bothers him, its that she’s the one that snatches him to safety each time. She’s like a freaking cat toying with a - yeah not going there, just blaming Selina. Knew them hanging out was going to be bad news for me somehow, he gripes.

Cass just shrugs and smoothly sits down cross-legged right where she is, grinning Cheshire-cat style at him from there. “Childhood trauma,” is her answer.

“Great, and now you’re stealing my comeback on top of it?! Is nothing sacred to you?”

She offers another shrug. He would like to return those for store credit please. Maybe get something useful instead. “Haven’t decided yet. Babs is still helping me explore my options. We’re going alphabetically and we’re only on  the E-religions.”

“God, you’re the worst. I can’t believe you ruined sisters for me.”

“You already used that same line last week when you came out of your room still half-asleep and she was just sitting directly across from your door waiting and staring unblinking and you yelped and dropped your laptop on your toe, and then cursed so loud that B came running around the hall thinking we were being invaded,” Dick reported idly, still perched in the same position he’d been in all along and watching the boys below them. “Just in case you thought no one noticed when you recycle.”

“I noticed too,” Cass added solemnly.

“I have no siblings,” Jason intoned. He threw up his hands dramatically and then loudly jumped down to the street below with a little help from the fire escape. It drew both Duke and Tim’s attention and they startled before realizing it was Flamebird. And that he’d landed on the street and was stalking past them while barely acknowledging them. And that that was Nightwing standing on the roof now with his hands on his hips yelling after him.

“Oh, reeeeeeal subtle. You’re not having fun anymore so you gotta make sure nobody else does either. Wow, the Brat-like behavior, just jumped out of the shadows with that one!”

And that was Flamebird not even turning around and just yelling back. “I HAVE NO SIBLINGS!”

And also they were both pretty sure that was Batgirl crouched on the roof next to Nightwing now, and she was…..sticking her tongue out at Flamebird’s back? No, Batgirl very much definitely was sticking out her tongue, that wasn’t in doubt, it was more just….very unexpected to see.

What was happening right now?

********

Eventually Tim and Duke have inevitably worn down [Bruce’s] resistance to training them by insisting they’re gonna keep doing this and if its not them its gonna be someone sooner or later anyway. Because, as they put it, you guys may not know this but Gotham’s gotten used to Robins by now and it freaks people out not to see one and Robin’s as important as Batman really and there needs to be a Robin and its not just us that will think that, like look at the fact that already two of us had the exact same idea, huh? And also, we’re gonna keep doing it anyway, sooooo….there’s that.

And then Cass vouches that they’re both 100% serious about that.

And then Dick vouches that as a former determined daredevil kid that was absolutely going to keep doing the same thing no matter whether you’d helped me or not, B, I also am of the assessment that these two mean it all the way.

And not to be left out and just to have something to contribute but also grumpy because his brother and sister are picking on him and he’s eighteen going on ten, Jason throws in: “And my assessment is that they both definitely seem dumb enough to keep doing this without help anyway and they definitely need help or they definitely will die, I’d give it a month, month and a half tops.”

And then Bruce dryly thanks his children for their contributions, their keen insights in this matter have been absolutely invaluable, he has no idea how he would make a decision here without it.

“Oooh, a rare sighting of Bat-snark in the wild. Someone call Nat-Geo quick, maybe he’ll do it again,” Dick says.

Bruce sighs. Duke and Tim look like they’re trying to decide if they’re allowed to be amused or if that’s also part of some weird Bat-test that they’re probably taking without even knowing it.

So Tim and Duke move in, start training together, and then also get sent to school together and it takes a month or so of settling in before they decide whether or not they actually are happy about this. There’s a period of deciding they’re supposed to be bitter rivals who snipe at each other back and forth across the dining table at every available opportunity, but that changes the first night Dick and Jason come back from the Tower since Tim and Duke have moved in and where Cass is also home instead of at the Clocktower with Babs.

Since all three of the older Batkids, upon seeing Tim and Duke squabble at dinner, decide to obnoxiously coo about how adorable it is watching the kids play. Which pretty instantly cements Duke and Tim as realizing their best chance of surviving the sudden acquisition of three older superhero ninja foster siblings who all can be as obnoxious as they are dangerous but also as much as they are - Duke and Tim are convinced - all quite insane.

A belief further cemented the next morning, with all three of them having spent the night at the Manor as well. Treating Duke and Tim to their first Saturday morning episode of the Cass and Jason show.

In this episode, Jason emerged from his bedroom in his pajamas still but warily peeking his head out first to look both ways down the hall before deciding it was clear…..and then makes it just almost to the end of the hallway leading to the stairs, when Cass drops down from where she’d been waiting perched above the other side of the door, in such a way as to suddenly fill the doorway just in front of him, hanging upside down suspending herself just with her feet wedged above the doorway, all while keeping her hands crossed her chest, a dead-eyed expression on her face, and with her tongue hanging out like she’s some kind of vampire hanging upside down in mid-slumber.

Jason shrieked and stumbled back a foot before catching himself and shoving two fingers in a cross shape in her direction.

“Demon! DEMON! Goddammit, I abjure thee, that’s supposed to fucking do something about having a demon sister, now what the fuck does it take to banish you!?”

“Can’t be banished,” Cass informed him, still upside down. “Can be bought though.”

Jason halted. “What?”

“I’m really surprised you never figured it out,” Dick said from his room further down the hallway. He was leaning against the doorjamb, arms casually crossed.

“Why did you think she never goes after me?”

Jason swiveled back and forth between his siblings suspiciously, trying to scry both their inscrutable (and in Cass’ case, still upside down) faces for signs they were telling the truth. “You’re telling me that Little Miss Monstrous has been a pain in my ass from day one and the reason she’s never so much as eked a single boo in your direction is you’ve been bribing her all this time?”

Dick shrugged. “Its all about getting in on the ground floor.”

Jason squinted, still unconvinced. “Nuh-uh. No way. You’re just fucking with me. Like if this is for real, what have you been buying her off with?”

Dick smiled beatifically. “Cuddles and hugs.”

“NO! NO! Bullshit! I am NOT falling for this crap again, you are not gonna get me this way this time. I call BS, fuck you, nuh uh, you’re lying out your ass and your ass-face both.”

“Wait, what is this ‘this’ that I did before? What ever are you talking about?”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about.”

“Is this about the Care Bear you had when you were fifteen?”

“Shut upppppppppppppppp, I didn’t have a Care Bear then, you’re such a - “

“Oh, I dunno, I’m preeeeetty sure there’s some holiday photos from that year that would say otherwise, pretty definitively in the form of you and your Care Bear….”

“That I only had because you literally just gave it to me as a present solely so that you could claim that I had a Care Bear when I was fifteen, you douchebag!”

“Just because I gave you the Care Bear didn’t mean you had to keep the Care Bear and hold the Care Bear and love the Care Bear, Jay. You chose to do all that.”

“I only kept the damn thing because you’re an asshole who lied about it being a family heirloom so I felt like I had to or I’d be a total jerk. Is nothing sacred to you?”

“I didn’t lie! It is a treasured family heirloom! Its the first Care Bear I gave to my little brother to teach him the important and valuable lesson that Care Bears - say it with me now - “

“Finish that sentence and they will never find your body.”

“CARE!” Cass shrieked from behind him before jumping on Jason’s back and bearing him down to the floor in an undignified tangle as she splayed atop him like a starfish and he stared up at the ceiling in a kind of strangled frozen fury, like there was so much emotion he wanted to process he’d overheated and now was stuck like that until he cooled down.

That was when Dick leaned over him and solemnly added one final thought, as though it was a crucial addition of the gravest importance:: “A lot.”

Jason’s eye twitched.

Dick’s eyes went wide in response. “Uh oh. He went to the Danger Zone. Run Cass. We’ve unleashed the dogs of war!”

Cass was off and on her feet in a second, taking off down the hall like a rocket. “Not the dogs of war!” She yelled.

Dick was only seconds behind her when behind him, Jason rose like an eruption, growling wordlessly and sparks practically flashing from his suddenly flinty eyes. He charged after them like an enraged bull.

“Kenny Loggins wouldn’t want this!” Dick yelled over his shoulder as he rounded the doorway and vanished. Jason rounded it in hot pursuit.

“Poison Ivy won’t even be able to make compost from what’s left of you when I’m through!”

The yelling and running vanished into the distance. Duke and Tim finally looked at each other blankly.

“What?” Tim asked. Duke shrugged helplessly.

A door opened at the end of the hallway. Bruce stuck his head out. “Is it safe?”

Tim just stared at him.

“What?” Duke asked.

**************

LOL mostly I just want to get to the tail end of the series, when Dick and Jason go undercover as supervillains in the Society of well, Supervillains....Dick as War Shrike and Jason as Gray Jay. (A kind of bird usually known for or referenced as being thieving and unpredictable and unexpectedly dangerous despite its size. Jason never went into the Lazarus Pit here and so isn’t as huge as he is in canon, he’s on the smaller side due to his early life’s malnutrition. Living with Bruce helped him catch up enough that he’s not TINY tiny, but he’s still smaller enough that this particular mantle fits him a little better than it would his massive canon depiction).

Cass also partakes in the undercover storyline, just showing up uninvited in a persona she’s crafted for the mission and calls Black Swan. And War Shrike and Gray Jay are both so startled and obviously a little freaked by her unexpected arrival, that combined with her being ticked at her brothers for leaving her behind, RUDE, and them sufficiently cowed and guilted by her wrath, that it all adds up to the other villains as being clear evidence that she is the boss and they are her advance minions. 

Which mollifies and satisfies Cass immensely, and leaves Jason grumpy that their mission was hijacked and also his sister is The Worst, and leaves Dick temporarily disgruntled because This Whole Thing Was His Idea DAMMIT but then five seconds later finding it hilarious because Dick is a chaos connoisseur and he has an appreciation for whimsy and the unexpected.

“I can’t believe you not only gate-crashed our extremely sensitive and delicate undercover operation, but you completely hijacked it as well! This is so typical,” Jason grouched.

Cass simply swept ahead of him and strode down the hallway with lethal grace. “Silence minion.”

Jason spluttered behind her and she grinned to herself. He really made it too easy sometimes.

[amiableness]

Still Best Friends {1}

word count: 2.6k

warnings: smut

summary: y/n has always liked JJ until they sleep together and things begin to change

a/n: this is horrible but its my first time writing so there is for sure room for improvement

“Truth, Y/n.” You lifted your beer towards John B as your way to tell him to continue. The three of you were lounging around on the boat while drinking beers and playing truth or dare. So far most of them had become truths, you didn’t mind though, you were pretty nosey when it came to your friends.

“Best guy you’ve ever been with?” You let out a quick laugh before taking a drink and sighing.

“No one.”

“No one? Come on, you gotta answer better than that.” John B gave a look as Sarah leaned against his shoulder.

“That’s my answer, guys aren’t as good in bed as they let on.” You knew when the six of you started playing this game, you were gonna run into a question that made you slightly uncomfortable. You had only been with three guys, but none of them were anything to brag about. Your first time you knew it wasn’t going to be anything great, it was your first time, you expected that. However, it never got any better like you had heard it was supposed to, so you gave up on your fantasy of great sex. Maybe that just wasn’t ever going to happen for you. Maybe you were going to have to fake your orgasms for the rest of your life, and once they were gone deal with it yourself.

“You’re telling me you’ve never been with a guy who is good in bed?” Kiara questioned leaning forward to look at you. Pope was sitting next to her, sending you a surprised look. She knew this already, you knew she was just teasing you because she knew about your crush on JJ. After coming over to her house beyond mad that you had yet again another disappointing night in bed, you let it slip that maybe if you hooked up with JJ this wouldn’t happen. She knew you weren’t the type for a random hookup though, and she quickly caught on to your crush.

“That’s what I’m saying, yes.”

“So you’ve never finished with them?” JJ questioned and you quickly tried to hide behind your beer bottle as you looked at him.

“Sorry some guys aren’t as good in bed as you claim to be.” You quickly teased him, receiving a smile and a shake of the head in return. You didn’t want to be having this conversation anymore. Especially if JJ was going to add to it. The idea of having a conversation about your sex life with JJ wasn’t a good idea to you. Especially since he’s the guy who’s in your head as your finish yourself off when the sex is less than pleasing to you.

“Kie, your turn.” You called trying to shake off the attention on you. As comfortable as you felt around your friends, talking about you terrible sex life wasn’t one you were willingly to share. It was embarrassing to you, you didn’t want them all to know that you had never once finished in the bedroom with someone else. You were starting to think that maybe you were the common denominator.

By the time you guys were all walking back to the Chateau from the boat, it was getting pretty dark out. You all seemed to be calling it an early night, which was a bit unusual for all of you. As you all made your way to the tiny, run-down house, you noticed Sarah leaning against John B as he held an arm around her waist. Pope and Kiara were walking ahead of everyone laughing about something quietly. That left you and JJ walking behind the four. You tried not to focus too hard on his presence next to you, but that had never been easy for you.

Ever since you had met the group a few years ago, you had found yourself drawn to JJ. He was unlike any guy you had ever liked before, and maybe that’s why you ended up liking him so much. The only person who knew about your crush on JJ was Kiara, and she kept the secret well. She had tried to convince you to just tell JJ, but you never listened. It was a secret you always wanted to keep hidden.

“Are you heading home after this?” You glanced over at your best friend next to you. The fact he didn’t have a shirt on distracting you briefly.

“Probably, the couples seem to be ready to end the night early.” Even though Kiara and Pope weren’t a couple, you and JJ had always joked they were in secret. You both thought they would work well together.

“Want me to walk you home? I got nothing better to do.” He nudged you softly with his shoulder and you smiled.

“Glad to be your number one choice.”

Sarah was spending the night so John B rushed the rest of you guys out. You quickly said your goodbyes before heading out with JJ towards your house. When Kiara noticed she sent you the biggest grin and a wink which you were really hoping JJ hadn’t seen.

The walk to your house was relatively quiet except for a few jokes every once in a while between the two of you. You tried to ignore how your hands would brush every once in awhile, it made your heart speed up every time. You couldn’t tell if JJ just wasn’t effected by it or he just didn’t notice.

“So, no one at all huh?” You could see your tiny white house coming up ahead of you. Your mom wasn’t home, she rarely was. She was always working, she said she wanted a better life for the two of you. You didn’t mind the life you had, you just wanted her home.

“What?” You hummed.

“Earlier tonight, you haven’t finished with anyone.” Your body tensed and you felt your face heat up. JJ laughed slightly at your reaction.

“Oh, yea no I haven’t.” You waited for JJ to tease you about it and make fun of you just a little, but it never came.

“Damn.” You shrugged your shoulders as you reached your front door and began to unlock it.

“I guess, pretty sure it’s my fault though so I can’t complain. Are you coming in?” It was your usual routine to have JJ hangout at yours for a bit after he walked you home. Sometimes if your mom wasn’t home and he just felt like he couldn’t go home, you let him stay. He always slept in your bed with you, it made you nervous every time, but nothing had ever happened. It was just a friend helping another friend out, how it will always be.

“Yea, if that’s okay.” He answered walking through the door and locking it behind him. You simply nodded. The house was slightly messy from the last time your mom was here, she never had enough time to clean up after herself after she came home from one job and headed to the next.

“Y/n.” You turned around from picking up your mess to see JJ sitting on the couch watching you. You set down the empty glasses you were holding and sat down next to him pulling your legs to the side of you while facing him.

“Yea?”

“Want some help?”

“Oh, it’s okay I just gotta do dishes and-“

“Not with that.” You stopped talking, he wasn’t talking about the dishes. You opened your mouth and closed it, not sure what to say. After those words left his mouth you were aware just how close you were to him and you were sure he could tell you were insanely nervous.

“You mean with sex?” You asked, your voice sounding unsure. JJ laughed a little a ran his hand through his hair.

“Not really helping you, just thought I could be that guy that actually makes you cum.” Was he messing with you? Why would he want to help you out with this? I mean, he would be having sex and since when has JJ ever turned that down.

“I wouldn’t want it to get awkward between us.”

“We’re best friends, that’s never gonna change.” Right, just best friends. Part of you wanted to tell him no, and that it wouldn’t be a good idea. But another part of you wanted to take the one chance with JJ you would ever get with him. You already knew he just saw you as a friend, so it’s not like it would be a big deal to spend one night together. Just sex, just one time.

“Let’s do it, what’s the worst that could happen.” Your voice sounded a lot more confident than you felt. JJ took those words to lean even closer to you than he was, letting his lips brush against yours. Your body froze as his fingers traced your thigh slowly leaving a trail of goosebumps behind them.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this? You’re pretty tense.” JJ drew back a little to get a good look at you and before you could let yourself overthink anything else you, you placed your hands in front of you to steady yourself and placed your lips against his. It didn’t take him long to react, quickly kissing you back and threading his hand through the back of your hair to pull you closer. With him tugging you closer to him, you slid yourself into his lap to kiss him even harder.

You were quickly becoming lost in him as you both let your hands roam and your lips travel. He trailed soft kisses down your neck that had you leaning your head back to give him more room. Your head was spinning and you felt hot. Even with your tank top, bikini top under and shorts on, you were overheating. You knew it was mostly likely due to the boy you have had feeling for so long kissing down your neck and gripping your thighs like he never wanted to let go.

Your moans and sighs we’re getting slightly louder by each passing minute, a little nervous to show JJ just how into it you truly were. You hadn’t ever been thus turned on by a guy before, and it was probably because none of them were ever JJ. Between kisses you felt JJ grip your thighs and pick you up, letting you wrap your legs around his waist. You knew he was heading to your room and the thought of that had you growing more excited than you were before. He sat you on the edge of your bed lifting your arms so he could take off your tank top. You were left in a tiny baby pink bikini top on, you definitely should've gone a size up when you bought it.

“Always thought you looked so fucking hot wearing this.” He mumbles as he pulls away to look at you and his words leave you feeling breathless. You didn’t know he even noticed you when you were in a bikini.

As he kisses around the top he grabs your hand and pulls you up gently, just enough so he can spin you so you back is nearly against him as he undone a the bikini top. Your nipples harden as the top falls and hits the floor. You feel JJ push the hair away from your neck as he leaves soft kisses on your neck. You turn around to kiss him again but he stops you as he looks at your body. He looks completely turned on just by looking at you.

“You’re fucking beautiful, baby.” Your breath hitches at the nick name and you quickly press your lips to his as a thank you.

“Arms up, J.” You grab then hem of his shirt and tug it up and toss it across your room. The first time you’re fully able to stare at JJ and not worry about being caught. He leans you back down so he can kiss across your chest, teasing you by brushing his lips softly against your nipples earring a moan from you every time.

“Quit teasing.” Only then is when he swirls his tongue around your nipple making your back arch.

You find yourself quickly being pressed against the bed again as JJ slips your shorts and underwear down your thighs, leaving you completely bare in front of him. You’re about to protest that he’s still clothed but he slips his shorts and underwear down too.

Seeing him completely naked and hard has made you want him more than you ever thought was possibly. You’re soaking wet by this point, and he knows it.

“Spread your legs.” You do as he tells you and you lean back against the sheets. His large hands hold your thighs and he teases you by running his fingers along the outside of your pussy. With your moans and your whines for him to stop teasing it doesn’t take long before you’re watching his fingers pump in and out of you. He doesn’t let it last long though, and you’re disappointed when he pulls away from you and tells you to sit up.

He places a few kisses to your lips before whispering against them.

“Bend over, baby.”

You lay against the bed and stick your ass into the air and your feel JJ’s hands roaming over your back and your ass. You can hear the packaging of the condom as you lay against the sheets trying to calm your mind. You gasp as you can feel him teasing your clit with his cock before pushing into you, hardly giving you any warning. You let out a loud moan as you sink further into your bed. All the times you had been with other guys they had never wanted to try this position and you were really feeling the difference. The room was filled was the sounds of both your moans and the sounds of JJ thrusting into you. As loud as you two were being, you were really hoping your neighbors couldn’t hear.

JJ teased you with slow thrusts until you were begging for him to fuck you hard. By the time he sped up you were so close and couldn’t stop all the noises falling from your mouth.

“You’re so fucking pretty bent over like this.” He complimented you before sliding back into you as you gripped the sheets and cried out. It felt like ages that you bent over against the bed as JJ had his way with you. Your back was starting to ache but the feeling of him filling you up overpowered that.

He grabbed your hips and flipped you over so you were on your back and spread your legs. His chest was against yours as he slipped back into you and he pressed kisses against your lips and neck as he fucked you.

“I’m not gonna be able to last much longer.” His voice was raspy and it nearly made your eyes roll back. You simply nodded, not trusting that you could even use your voice to tell him you were close too. He fucked you hard the last few times before the two of you were complete messes tangled together as you came. Both your breathing was heavy as he fell against his back pulling you onto his chest. The two of you laid there with your fingers tangled together.

“Still best friends right?” You asked, part of you hoping he’d say something else.

“Still best friends.” He said as he pressed a kiss against your head.

#jj maybank obx #jj x y/n #jj maybank x y/n #jj x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #obx imagine #obx x reader #jj maybank smut #outer banks #jj obx #obx smut #outer banks angst #outer banks smut #outer banks story #smut

[heybeybey]

Ai-Ai Gasa

Since seeing this post from @rivapetosprmcy, I keep thinking of a “sequel” of sorts where Levi catches Petra drawing the love umbrella. 

Pairing: Rivetra | Levi x Petra

Genre: Romance

Summary:  

What are those two up to now?

Levi decided to approach Petra and Oluo but before he can even speak up, he finally sees what Petra wrote on the wall. 

Huh, so this is the reason why she always serves him tea first. 

---

Levi takes the last few coins, pocketing the change before nodding at the shopkeeper in thanks. Today’s their scheduled biweekly restocking day and as usual, his squad insisted that they all go together since it can be a “bonding moment” of sorts for the whole team. 

Eld and Gunther went off to restock their alcohol, medicine and bandages while he, Petra and Oluo go for the groceries. He asked Oluo and Petra to wait outside as he wraps up and pays for their items, making sure they’re not forgetting anything. 

Instead of seeing them just a few steps outside of the shop, Oluo and Petra are across the street. They were facing a wall as they discuss something.  

What are those two up to now?

Petra started to write something on the wall. 

Great. 

He leaves his subordinates alone for a few minutes and now they’re fucking around and committing vandalism. 

Instead of calling out to them, Levi decided to approach Petra and Oluo. Before he can even speak up, he stops as he finally sees what Petra wrote on the wall.

Huh, so this is the reason why she always serves him tea first.

A triangle with a line in the middle. The words “Capt. Levi” and “Petra” written on each side. A heart above to top it all off.

He knows what that symbol means. Levi may be the oldest in their team but he’s not stupid.

“Ral. Bozado.” He sees the both of them freeze and if he was the type who’d laugh out loud, he’d be slapping his knee right now. 

He retains his impassive face instead as Oluo immediately turns around. 

“Captain Levi!” Oluo exclaimed, trying to shield the wall from him.

Petra, on the other hand, remains frozen on the spot. 

“I believe I called you, Ral.” 

Petra still refuses to face him and he notices how the hand holding the nail she drew the symbol with was starting to shake. He’s slightly concerned because it seems she stopped breathing too. Seeing that she won’t be turning around anytime soon, he steps forward instead, giving Oluo a pointed look to move away. 

His eyes scans his and Petra’s names on the wall before turning his head towards said woman. 

“You have good handwriting. Considering that you wrote this with a nail,” he says casually, as if they’re just discussing the weather and not a younger subordinate having a raging crush on her superior.  

Her face is so red now, he’d think she got bitchslapped ten times. 

“Captain, I’m sorry! It doesn’t mean anything. I swear!” she finally blurts out. 

“Mhmm.”

“Oluo and I were just messing around, right Oluo?”

Oluo doesn’t answer. Most likely scared that he’ll get his butt kicked by the captain if he does join the conversation. Levi remains silent, assessing the situation, before speaking up to address his other subordinate.

“Oluo, go help Eld and Gunther. They’re doing a shit job for something as simple as shopping for medical supplies.”

Oluo hesitates for a moment, looking between Petra and Levi before saluting him and walking away. 

“Captain, please don’t kick me out of the squad!” Petra exclaims once they’re both alone. 

“Petra-”

“I’ll be on toilet duty for three months! Or! Paperwork maybe? Do you want me to do all your paperwork instead? Of course, you’ll still have to supervise but at least you don’t have to stay up late every night-

“Ral-”

“No, wait. I’ll buy all your cleaning supplies for a year straight or-or- I can pay for all your tea supplies-”

“My salary’s higher than yours, Ral.” 

“There must be some way I can make up for this. Do you want me to shoulder the whole team’s chores instead? I didn’t mean to disrespect you captain-”

“Pet-”

“I promise I’ve never allowed my feelings to get in the way!”

“Feelings?” he replies in an almost amused tone. “I thought you said it doesn’t mean anything.”

She finally deflates. “Captain, I’m sorry...”

He watches her and it’s quite comical that the woman in front of him is the type who’d be brave enough to jump straight into a titan’s mouth and kill it from the inside out. By just (accidentally) revealing a crush, her whole body’s shaking  and he just knows she’s about to cry. 

He feels his chest tighten at that thought. 

Awkward silence. Deep down, he knows he should shout at her to stop this shit at once. Romance and feelings shouldn’t have a place in the Scouts. Not when there’s a risk that they’ll die every month. Instead of listening to his better judgement, he allows his curiosity to get the best of him instead. 

“Is this what you meant when you said that you wanted to devote yourself to me?”

Petra seems to realize that there’s no way out of his question. Lying will only get her in further trouble. Who knows what the commander would do if he finds out? Much more if he learns that she flat out lied to her direct commanding officer? “...yes, sir.”

“I see.” He’s quiet for a moment, watching Petra deflate further. It seems the woman may be thinking that she really will get kicked out of the Special Ops now. 

Levi, for all his attempts to repress his sexual urges and feelings, does recognize the fact that his 24-year-old subordinate is beautiful. She’s also kind and skilled to boot. He’s seen the way Oluo looks at her and how even some Scout recruits try to find the guts to approach her and ask her for “tips” when really, it’s just a veiled attempt to get closer to her.

He never allows himself to explore feelings beyond friendship when it comes to Petra. He shouldn’t have even allowed friendship in the first place. How she wormed her way in, he still doesn’t know to this day. 

Levi continues when he noticed that Petra’s emotions show just how her mind is starting to spiral downwards, his voice more quiet than before. “I’m not worth it, Petra.”

That causes her head to snap up. “Sir?” 

“You’re better off with someone who’s not a grumpy midget.” He remembers how Hange can also get creative when describing people. 

In his mind, it’s true. He’s a 34-year-old man who never had a girlfriend. He knows how to kill titans but he doesn’t even know how to romance a girl. He’s a former thug from the Underground and 90% of the women he’d met are taller than him. He knows that if not for his “Humanity’s Strongest” status, he’d be the last man most would choose to go out on a date with. 

He actually heard it once, while he and Erwin were walking along a street in Sina. Two women were giggling and whispering to one another as Levi and Erwin passed by their table in front of a tea shop. 

“Oh, I’d totally bang the commander. Just look at him! I wouldn’t be surprised if half the Scouts are crushing on him. Think we can invite him over for dinner one day?” 

“How about the captain? They say he’s Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.”

“He’s alright, I guess.” The woman shrugs. “A bit on the short side for my taste though.”

“With how he’s always frowning, he actually reminds me of a gremlin,” the other answers in a whisper. 

“Do you think he’d be into blindfolds? I mean, I bet he’d be good in bed with all that training he gets but... you know.” 

The two nobles weren’t exactly discreet in their conversation and he remembers how Erwin gave him a sympathetic look. 

Not that he cares. 

Levi looks at Petra again. She’s been quiet for awhile but now, he sees that she’s now looking at him softly. His squad once noted how Petra’s huge eyes just highlights her emotions even more and this is the first time that he can actually agree. He feels captivated, staring back. 

“Captain...” For all her persistence to deny her feelings awhile ago, the emotions behind this one word reveals just how much truth the love umbrella holds.  

Levi doesn’t give her a chance to continue. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if this conversation actually goes somewhere. He breaks eye contact and turns away from her. 

“Let’s go. We need to go back to base. Training’s in an hour.”

----

Two weeks later, they went back to the market. Since they only needed to restock a few things, they didn’t need to bring the whole squad for this week’s scheduled shopping day. 

He and Petra were about to cross the street when the rain started to fall. Levi took it upon himself to open the umbrella to shield them both from the rain since he only had one bag in hand. 

As they huddle closer together inside the umbrella, Levi remembers their conversation a few weeks ago, the illustrated umbrella with his and her name below the sharp triangle flashes in his mind, and he feels his heartbeat quicken at the thought. 

It seems Petra is thinking of the same thing as he notes the soft blush on her cheeks. 

#this is cheesy af #levi x petra #petra #petra ral #petra x levi #levi ackerman #rivetra #rivapeto #levitra #not v great with fluffy stories but i just wanna publish this idea so here u have it #petra rall #attack on titan #snk

[stevenbasic]

Looking at the IG of one of the new applicants, Dr J thinks: What's this one's story?

About a year ago, huh..?

...

The reunion was in full swing, and Angie sipped the straw of her vodka tonic, alone for the moment at the edge of the crowd, watching him. She’d come into the evening like she did into most crowds: thinking she was the smartest person in the room. True, it’s not like she’d ended up top of her class - it’d been ten years since graduating from Middlesex High with these morons - or had found herself at a top-tier college. She totally could have, she always thought, if she had really wanted to. She just never put in the effort, it hadn’t meant enough to her. But she could have been valedictorian, for sure, right? And gone to an ivy-league? She just never set her mind to it, she told herself. Plus, back then, she didn’t have the tits...

Angie Wade was, certainly, what most people would call a “late bloomer”. Not only had her academic and career successes mainly come after her teen years in High School - she’d graduated with Honors from Bowling Green, got her Masters, and now managed two (soon to be three) branches of KLG Bank - but her figure had taken some time to come in, also. When she had graduated, she had been a mostly forgettable member of the drama club, the thin, unremarkable brunette with the big forehead. But, soon, things changed. Since high school she’d put on - haha - nearly thirty pounds, the majority of it generously deposited into the fleshy curves she’d squeezed into this low-cut black top and tight, tight knee-length white skirt. She wanted these people - him especially - to see what had become of Angie Wade, to realize what they had missed. And, the evening had gone predictably. Most of the girls, even some she’d been friendly with in school, either wanted nothing to do with her or treated her with snobby derision - fuck them. Because every guy she’d spoken to tonight had been very keen to chat. Most had given her at least a fleeting glance down her top, and many could barely keep from staring. But she hadn’t talked to AJ Shaw yet....

...and he was right over there.

...

AJ stood at the banquet hall’s bar, idly stirring his bacardi and coke, while Megan Rommety chatted animatedly in his left ear. He’d learned, among a prattling twenty minutes’ worth of other things, that she was a recent divorcee (“her decision”, to hear her tell it) She was trying to flirt with him, he had no doubt.  He had been excited about coming to this thing, the 10-year reunion for his Middlesex High School Class. He still hung out, pretty regularly, with some friends from the football team; he’d even hired a couple to work on his construction team. He still touched base with old girlfriends from time-to-time, Facebook or wherever; it was cool to see them with kids and flirt with them behind their husbands’ backs. But maybe there’d be some people from out of town to catch up with. Like Megan here: they’d been in a couple classes together, she’d dated a friend of his, been on the tennis team. She was nice to see, for the first few minutes, but now she was beginning to overstay her welcome in the seat next to him. “...anyway, after I kicked Brad out, I sold the house and bought my own condo down by the lake,” Megan was saying, stirring the ice cube in her chardonnay, “sooooo nice. Real hardwood floors, a view. You just have to come see it! In fact, kids are at my mom’s tonight and…” WHoahhh...Who was THAT?

“Yeah, I uh….” he said Wearing a black, low-cut top that revealed an impressive bulge of soft, creamy cleavage, she was smiling over at him, from across the room. In fact, “smile” might have been too soft of a word. There was something dramatic about the look she was giving him, something….yikes. His stomach fluttered and everything Megan was saying was being droned out, dissolving to just a buzz on his left. Taking a sip of her drink, this woman held his eye contact for an uncomfortably long time, before she began to strut over towards him. My god, AJ thought, that is a strut. Straight back and proud, each step in her killer heels brought a new jiggle to her chest and an extra sway to her hips in her tight, white skirt. This was a woman who knew how to walk, he could see that for sure, and draw eyes to herself. Was this someone from his class?? He had forgotten that he was in the middle of a sentence, a conversation. Hell, he practically forgot where he was. He’d kinda found that happening, recently. Pretty women seemed to throw him off base more easily than they used to. Ones with boobs, especially. “Hiya, remember me?” she said, sidling up to the bar and unceremoniously boxing Megan out. He tried to keep his eyes up, on her face, on her wide, wide smile. He knew he would look like an asshole if his eyes dropped to her tits….but it was a struggle. “I…uh” he began, as his mind began to work. He was usually so good at this! He felt like he knew everybody from his class, or at least everyone important. Especially the hot ones! But he was having trouble remembering this one, her name. Her face was sorta familiar, but he certainly didn’t recognize those curves from high school. “Uhmmmm…”

“Angie Wade?”  Megan interjected, from half-behind the newcomer.

Oh yeah, Angela Wade.

“Angie Wade?” AJ finally managed, lights beginning to click on, “You were in drama club, right?” “That’s me!” Angie beamed, biting her lower lip flirtatiously, “You DO remember me!” He...he did remember her, yes, Angie. But certainly not like this. The Angie Wade he remembered had been...skinny. Maybe not quite a dork, but not someone with whom he’d ever associate. If he recalled, his friends had told him she’d been an admirer of his. God, if he’d known she’d grow up into this...wow, she really grew a pair. “Excuse me,” Megan piped in, pushing her short, coiffed-blonde hair behind her ear, “We...were in the middle of a conversation?” Obviously annoyed, Megan could see how AJ’s attention had suddenly been drawn to Angie Wade and her big new tits. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Angie responded, not bothering to hide a note of condescension. She shifted to unblock Megan from the conversation, a move that just brought her closer to AJ’s left side, and in fact let her press her big right breast into his left arm. She felt him shudder, almost imperceptibly, but tried to keep her smile to herself.

Angie glanced Megan up and down with a coy smirk before turning back to AJ. “So...Nice suit! You look great,” she said, knowing men’s weaknesses for flattery, “Seems like you’re doing well?” “Um, yeah! Thanks!,” AJ replied, wincing as he heard the weird enthusiasm in his voice. He can’t come across as creepy, just talking to this girl ‘cuz she’s built. He knew he had to maintain himself, his composure. “I’ve been good,” he continued, “Staying busy with work and-” Angie cut him off. “Yeah, I saw that your company has a bid in to renovate the stadium downtown,” she said, letting her eyes sparkle in admiration. Men loved that. “That’s soooo great…” They also loved this bimbo talk, she’d learned. “Yeah well, it’s um… an exciting project,” He finished lamely, glancing over at Megan, whose glare had gone icy. What was he doing? This was rude. He should try to involve Megan some more, but found himself just really not wanting to. “But enough about me,” he said to Angie, admiring the dramatically dark makeup around her eyes, “How are you doing?” “I’m doing SO, SO good!” Angie sang, right hand reaching behind AJ’s back, resting on a shoulder. Megan scoffed, watching as her left hand then found his knee. What a tramp. “‘So so good’?” Megan finally snapped, the derision in her voice unmistakable, “Last I heard you were working at Hooters. Brad said he saw you th-” “Oh, did he? Brad, your husband?” Angie smiled, turning finally to address Megan, smile big and white.

“Ex...husband…” Megan said, voice quickly fading.

“Hm. Well, did Brad mention that he used to come in every Tuesday and Thursday for lunch, with guys from work, or sometimes just by himself?” Angie continued, a new edge to her voice, “And when I moved to just weekends, he started showing up then, too?” She smiled as she saw Megan’s eyes go wide. She loved doing this shit to prissy bitches like Megan, when they thought they could flex. “Did Brad tell you that he always asked to be sat in my section, and when I finally left he’d asked the other girls about me? Where I went? Asked for my number?”

Megan’s jaw had started to quiver, and Angie had to keep herself from laughing. She remembered Brad, though it had been awhile. Guys from their old high school had often come to Hooters to drool, whether it was over her or younger girls like Shanette or Missy. Brad had been no different. “I guess he just saw something he liked…. “ Angie concluded, straightening her shoulders and pushing her boobs forward - which drew a glance from AJ, she noticed. “Maybe something he didn’t have at home?” “Holy shit y-you bitch,” Megan sputtered, doing her best to sound appalled but glancing down at her own modest bust, unable to keep from feeling a little inadequate. Yes, Brad had been “a boob guy”... Ignoring the insult with practiced aplomb, Angie turned back to AJ, catching him looking down her top. “Besides, you don’t mind...do you AJ?” she asked him, squeezing her right breast more firmly into his nicely-muscled arm, rubbing his broad shoulder through his suit jacket, “That I used to work at Hooters?” “Um, uh, what?” he stammered, uncomfortable with the tense exchange that had just happened between these two girls, feeling weird that he’d just sat here, passively. How was he supposed to answer this? “No...not at all,” he managed, “I think, uh, service work is perfectly dignified…” “See?” Angie giggled, still rubbing his shoulder and rewarding him with an extra bit of boob, “Good boy.”  Angie giggled again, so pleased with herself. Megan, for herself, looked aghast, watching AJ - who she always thought was a pretty well-put-together guy - fall for this bimbo’s simple little tricks. God, what a pair of tits can do... “I…” “..was just leaving” Angie finished for her, fixing her with a bright white smile and withering stare. She watched as Megan took her drink and stood from her stool. “You gonna go call Brad?” she added, for good measure, “Tell him Angie from Hooters said hello.” “Tell him yourself,” Megan sneered, and then turned to him, “And, AJ, nice talking to you. Have fun with the Titty Monster.” With that she stomped off, and Angie’s smile curled.

“‘Titty Monster’”, Angie repeated, chuckling to herself, “That’s rich. I think I’ll use that.” She bit her lip, narrowed her eyes. “So….” she began, turning all her attention back on AJ, her high school crush. She almost couldn’t believe it herself: here she was, little Angie Wade, proudly claiming Aaron Joseph Shaw for herself, just because she could. It was like wrapping him around her little finger. “Can I have a seat?” “Oh, uh, yeah,” AJ replied, shaking his head. What was wrong with him? He hadn’t even said goodbye to Megan. “Of course…”

AJ half-stood, chivalrously, as if to help Angie up into Megan’s now-empty chair. He sat back, finally, and began to order them both a drink from the bartender with the dramatic mustache.

“Two vodka tonics, please,” Angie had insisted, speaking over him with a will that made his loins clinch.

From there, the flirting began in earnest, disguised by a conversation about their jobs. Angie avoided divulging too much about her situation, her successes at the bank. She knew the male ego could be a fragile thing, and she didn’t want to scare him away. AJ seemed to be a successful guy himself, in his own way, but boys tended to like their girls dumb, and she could play that up a bit when she needed to. So, no mention of the degrees, no mention of the awards. Instead, she had leaned forward towards him just enough to open her cleavage for his approval. 

God, she has great tits, he thought to himself, marveling at their swell and mass, and I’m really getting to be a tit-guy these days. His eyes just could not keep themselves from falling down her top, and she seemed not to mind in the least. In fact, after their second drink together, her hand had found its way back to his knee and seemed to give him an encouraging squeeze every time his gaze strayed to her chest. She...she actually likes that I’m looking at her tits, he finally convinced himself, and had slowly started to relax.

After another drink, Angie finally sat up, stock straight, and slowly stretched her shoulders back to look around the room. Some of their old classmates had begun to leave, and the room was less abuzz than it had been. Predictably, his eyes had gone straight to her chest, and shot away before she met his gaze again. She waited for him to talk, knowing exactly what he wanted.

“So, it looks like things are starting to quiet down here,” he finally asked, “do you, uh, need a ride?”

Bingo. “No, I drove myself,” she answered, watching his face, seeing the old gears turning. 

“Well, I was thinking about, y’know,” he began again, poking at the remaining ice in his drink,  “heading back to my loft, downtown, if you wanted to, like, come with me…?” Angie smiled, and leaned in towards him, squeezing her arms together in a dramatic show of cleavage. “Hmmm, well,” she purred, watching his eyes struggle to maintain her gaze, “how about you come to my place tonight sweetie. It’s closer....” 

At that, she leaned in to his ear, and whispered into it with a voice thick with seduction. “And I still have my Hooters outfit at home. I can try it on for you….see if it still fits?” 

============================================

Angie attacks! A little GITJ tangent thread being co-written with AgeoftheGiantess, who you may know from GTScity. Look for her story to continue.

Next post, our first entry by new contributor Joyce Julep, available at my Patreon

#Growing Into the Job

[hopelikethemoon]

Loses (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Loses Rating: PG-13 Length: 1700 Warnings: Potential triggers if you have toxic family members and/or triggers realted to parental death. Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set in Colombia in 1990.  Summary: Reader and Javier talk during a stakeout.

@grapemama​​​ @seawhisperer​​​ @huliabitch​​ @pedropascalito​​​ @rogrsnbarnes​​​ @thewallpapergoesorido​ @twomoonstwosuns​​​ @gooddaykate​​​ @livasaurasrex​ @ham4arrow​​​ @plexflexico​​​ @readsalot73​​​ @hdlynn​​​ @lokiaddicted​​​ @randomness501​ @fioccodineveautunnale​​​  @roxypeanut​​​ @snivellusim​​ @lukesrighthand​​​ @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts​​​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @exrebelshocktrooper​​​​ @awesomefandomsunited​​ @ah-callie​​​​ @swhiskeys​​​​ @lady-tano​​​​ @beskar-droids​​​​ @space-floozy​​​​ @cable-kenobi​​​​ @cool-ultra-nerd​ @himbopoes​​​​ @findhimfives​​​​ @pedrosdoll​​​​ @frietiemeloen​​​​ @arrowswithwifi​​​​ @random066​​​ @uncomicalhumour​​​​ @heather-lynn​​​ @domino-oh-damn​​​​ @cyarikaaa​​​​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​​​ @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl​​​​  @yabby-girl​​​​ @xqueenofthecraziesx​​​​ @punkass-potato​​​​ @coredrive​​​​ @pascalesque​​​​ @theduchessofkirkcaldy​​​​ @queenquazar​ @sabinemorans​​​​ @buckstaposition​​​​ @holkaskrosnou​​​​ @yespolkadotkitty​​​​ @fleetwoodmactshirt​​​​ @seeking-a-great–perhaps

“Can you hand me the binoculars?” You requested, holding your hand out behind you as you peered out the window. 

Javier shifted in his seat, reaching into the backseat to grab them off the floor. “Do you see something?” He questioned as he passed them to you.

You brought them up to your face and looked through the lenses. You rotated the focus toggle, trying to focus in on the person who was walking out of an alley several hundred yards away from the car. “No.” You huffed, sitting the binoculars on your thighs as you sank back into your seat. “It’s just an old woman walking her dog.”

He chuckled, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Not quite a dangerous member of the cartel, huh?”

“No.” You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “This feels like a bust.”

Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth as he glanced at his watch, “Only another six hours.”

You groaned, turning in your seat to look back at Steve. He was stretched out on the backseat, sound asleep on his backpack-turned-pillow. “I wish that were me.”

“Ditto.” Javier reached down into the pocket in between the driver’s seat and the door, pulling out a packet of cigarettes. “Want one?”

You shrugged, rolling your window down halfway. “Sure.” It might help take the edge off your frustration with the stakeout. It was shit intel and you knew it — so did Javier. But the DEA heads had been insistent that they knew better. 

But Javier’s informants, and your own, had made it clear that this was barking up the wrong tree. 

Javier passed you a cigarette and you clamped it in between your lips as you waited for him to light up his own. You watched him as he took a drag, sinking back into the driver’s seat like it was that easy to take the edge off things. 

You leaned against the center console, tilting your chin as Javier held the flame in front of you. The lighter clicked as he shut it off and you sat back and blew a puff of smoke out the open window. “When are you flying out?”

He drew in a deep breath, before exhaling — the smoke swirling in front of his face. “Gonna fly out Friday night. I’ll be back Tuesday.”

You nodded, “A Friday night without you at the bar. I don’t know how I feel about this.” You tapped the cigarette on the edge of the glass. “Is your dad okay?”

Javier shrugged, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Yeah. It’s not a health thing.” 

“Oh?”

“Figured that would be the best excuse,” He shrugged a shoulder, pursuing his lip to the side as he exhaled. “It’s been… thirty years since my mother passed and I figured my pops shouldn’t have to spend it alone. You know?”

Your brows furrowed together and you nodded, “Yeah. No, I get it.” You turned your head to blow smoke out the window again. “It’s been like fifteen years since my dad passed.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You waved a hand. “It’s good that you’ve got your pops.”

“Your mom still alive?”

“I guess.” You sighed heavily as you let your head tilt to look at him. “It’s complicated.”

“I’ve got time.”

You rubbed at your forehead, glancing back at Steve who was still snoring. “You’re not going to judge me, are you?” You questioned as you met Javier’s gaze.

You weren’t sure you could handle being scrutinized by Javi. 

“Why would I?”

“I don’t know,” You shrugged. “Whenever the topic comes up, people get… twitchy.” You rolled your eyes and looked at the roof of the car above you. 

“I’m not gonna make you talk about shit you don’t want to.” Javier assured you, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip before he tucked his cigarette between his lips. 

“Let’s just say, I got into narcotics because I had first-hand experience.”

“Shit.” Javier shook his head. “Your mother?”

You nodded, “My parents divorced when I was three. I don’t fault my dad for getting out of that environment, but with how backwards the courts are… I was stuck with her.” You took another drag from your cigarette before tapping the ash off on the window again. 

“I had no idea.”

“I don’t exactly lead with it.” You snorted, “I didn’t even tell Lance about this shit.”

“Really?”

You pursed your lips as you met Javier’s gaze, “I told him that both of my parents were dead and left it at that.” You chewed on your bottom lip, “He was a great guy, but I just had this feeling he was one of those ‘make it work’ types.” 

Javier groaned, “You can’t make something that’s broken work.”

“Yeah.” You picked at a bit of fuzz on your leg. “But people don’t always get that. I had an academic advisor that treated me like I was the monster when the topic came up. Like how could I walk away from the woman who gave birth to me.” You looked towards him again, “I’m sorry. God, I probably sound like a bitch. I’m sorry about your mother. You're a good son for going back.”

Javier reached over and gave your leg a squeeze. “Why are you apologising?”

You looked down at his hand, which was still resting on your leg. “I’m just used to people acting like I should be grateful.” 

“That’s bullshit.” He patted your leg once more before he returned his hand to his own lap. “When was the last time you saw her?”

“I was sixteen.” You rubbed your thumb over the crease between your brows, “I never looked back.” 

Javier nodded his head slowly, “Probably for the best.”

You glanced out the window, sighing heavily. “I have an older brother,” You shrugged. “He’s a couple years older than you, I think.”

“So ancient?”

“He had a pet dinosaur,” You snorted. “And he went to school riding a mammoth.”

Javier chuckled, flicking ash into the ashtray in the center console. “Just a bit older than me then. Dinosaurs were extinct when I was hatched.” 

“I figured.” You grinned at him. “But yeah, Mitch took me in. Finished high school in Philly and then went to Temple.”

“You’ve never mentioned a brother.” 

You drew in another drag, exhaling smoke out the window. “I don’t really know him. He had a wife and kids. I was just the goblin that lived in his basement.” You sank back in your seat, watching the tip of the cigarette burn as you held it out the window. “It was what my dad wanted. We both loved him.” 

“Sounds like he was a good man,” Javier remarked. “Might rival my old man.”

“Anyone who puts up with your shit deserves sainthood.” You shot back with a smirk.

“You’re not wrong.” He countered, putting out his cigarette. Javier dragged his hands over his face, sighing heavily as he did. “I haven’t been back since I came out here.”

“Yeah? You do plan to come back, right? I’m not gonna be stuck with Murphy, am I?”

Javier shook his head, “You think I could just up and leave you like that?”

You laughed, “That's why I’m asking you!”

“Who else is gonna stay up and listen to you ramble about telenovelas?”

“Hey Javi—“

“Hmm?”

You flipped him off. 

“Classy.”

You grinned, “Well you know my sordid origins now. I’m far from classy.”

He pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, giving a short shake of his head, “You’re more than where you came from.”

“I try to be,” You leaned forward, tying your hair up into a knot at the back of your head. “Thank you for not… I don’t know, judging me for this shit.” You tilted your head and smiled at him. “I appreciate it.”

“You’re a damn good agent and the DEA’s lucky to have you.” Javier assured you, his gaze lingering on your face. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders.”

You rolled your eyes, taking one last drag from your cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray with his. “Thanks.” 

“Anytime.”

Javier was such a dick. That too-cocky grin and glint of mischief in his eyes. You’d miss having him around for a few days. 

“What was your mother like?”

Javier smoothed his fingers over his mustache as he made a sound, like he was thinking. “I was nine when she passed. My memories are a little faded.” His brows drew together as he looked at her. “She was brilliant. Pops always talks about how she could’ve been anything she put her mind to. I remember her wit, she could always make me laugh.”

You smiled fondly, “What was her name?”

“Sofía Ximena.” He picked at his thumbnail. “It was an aneurysm. Came out of nowhere. She was only twenty-seven.” Javier sniffed, looking towards the window then. “Pops had drove into town. She laid down to take a nap and, uh… didn’t wake up.”

“Javier—“

He shook his head, “Don’t. It was a long fucking time ago. I like remembering her as she was. Alive, animated. Giving my pops a hard time. Hell, I think she was better at roping horses than he was.”

“Yeah?” You laughed softly. “I think she would’ve been proud of you, Javier.”

“I don’t know about that.” He huffed, looking at you then. “It’ll be good to see my pops. It’s been awhile, like I said.”

“You make me want to give Mitch a call.”

“Are you?”

“Fuck no.” You laughed, waving a hand. “You want me to call him long distance? Get out of here.” 

“Do you two always have to be so fucking loud?” Steve groused from the back seat. You grabbed your bunched up jacket and chucked it at him. “Hey!”

“Shut up, Steve. We let you sleep.” 

“Did I sleep?” He tossed your jacket back at you. “All I remember is you two running your mouths.” 

Javier flipped him off, “Alright, sleeping beauty why don’t you get up here and work then?”

“It’s a bad lead and you know it,” You said over your shoulder. “I’ll nap if you’d prefer to run your mouth.” 

“So rude.” Steve chuckled. “I’m good right here.” 

“I thought so.” Javier rolled his eyes, giving you a pointed look. “Thank you.” 

“I’ll be here to talk when you get back.” You reached over and gave his forearm a squeeze. “I get it.” 

Steve wedged himself in between your seats, “You got a pack open?”

Javier grabbed the pack of cigarettes from the side of the seat and tossed it back to Steve. “Happy?”

“You got a hundred bucks too?”

You snorted. 

Only five more hours. 

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

[brokenkingdom-forgottenempire]

Bye, Drew..

Some..angst, I guess? A forced fic by a friend who advised me write a happy, fluffy fic for this ship but also told me to make sad fic for the same ship. The friend is either high, crazy or indecisive ... or all three. 

Summary: Roman and Drew are boyfriends who share house together, but one day Drew gets a new job in a new town. Drew moves out, and soon Roman is forgotten.

More to Roman’s p.o.v.

(16/12/20)

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

He was waiting for this day to arrive. They had planned it days earlier. Roman was going to see Drew later after work. They wanted to go watch a movie together. They rarely had times to see one another ever since Drew got a new job outside of town and had to move out of their house. 

Drew would text him everyday, reminding him to eat and to rest. Roman would do the same thing. They did not have to wait for the other person to text first, they would just randomly send out a text. Ever since Drew moved out, Roman did not offer to rent out a room to any of his friends. He wanted the house all to himself. It was the house Roman and Drew used to share anyway. 

First couple of weeks had been rough for Roman. He would come home to an empty house, prepared dinner for himself and watched TV while waiting for Drew’s replies. They rarely met outside, Drew lived an hour away from him. Roman was often busy with his own work too. They were both busy with their own schedules but they would make sure their partners were well. 

Roman did not notice it at first, how Drew’s replies became shorter, how Drew would take longer time to reply to his text. The Samoan told himself that Drew just got the job, he had to perform well for the company so Drew could be extra busy. Roman, however, never stopped sending him texts. He was not bothered by Drew’s late replies at first. Soon, Drew would hardly send him a text. Roman would wait for days but still nothing from Drew. Is he okay? Is he sick? Roman was always the mother hen in their relationship so he would easily get worried about Drew.

Roman would ask Drew if he could call him? Just to hear his boyfriend’s voice for few minutes, but Drew would give him excuses after excuses to avoid any calls. When Drew did agree to have a video call with Roman that night, Drew looked distracted, tired and cold. It was Roman who had been asking questions and Drew would simply reply with a short ‘yea’, ‘no’, ‘okay’, with not further explanation. Roman thought Drew must be tired so he decided to end the call early. Before Roman could greet his boyfriend good night, the video ended. Roman sighed. Maybe Drew was not in a good mood.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months. Roman did not know what had happened but he realized how cold Drew was towards him. Drew no longer send him anything. Drew would not want to answer his calls. Drew would not even reply to his texts anymore. Roman cried again that night when Drew rejected his call. Again. What did Roman do wrong? Why was Drew acting this way? 

It was closer to Christmas and Roman just wanted to see his boyfriend again. Just once. For few seconds. Roman relentlessly tried to ask Drew out for a dinner and a movie, but Drew rejected the dinner and but fortunately agreed with the movie part. Roman was happy with just that. 

That noon Roman had finished all his work early. He had prepared the needed paperwork for his boss too. He did not want to be bothered during his movie date. He asked his boss for permission to get off work an hour early to get ready. He was excited to see Drew again. Before he left the house, Roman sent texts to his boyfriend, reminding Drew about their date.

Roman drove for an hour to reach to the nearest cinema in Drew’s new area. He waited for Drew’s replies but he received nothing. Roman waited. It was windy outside. Freezing cold too. An hour turned to two. Drew was still nowhere to be seen. Roman did not want to call Drew, worried if the other man was driving but he decided to give it a try.

The line rang once, twice, thee times, several times before Drew answered. “Hello?” Drew’s voice brought a smile on Roman’s cold face. 

“Hey, babe. Just wanted to know where you are,” Roman heard another voice, an unfamiliar one. Who was that? “Are you coming, Drew?” The Samoan’s voice was filled with hopes. 

He later heard Drew sighed at the other side of the line, “Listen, Ro, sorry I didn’t get to tell you earlier, but the office is having a dinner right now and I can’t leave. Maybe next time? Besides, I’ve watched the movie yesterday with my colleague. Sorry, babe,” God, that hurt him. Roman could feel his heart shattered. Drew was ditching him? Was that it? He could not believe this. What did he do wrong? He thought Drew still cared about him- ..was he wrong about that too? Roman swallowed a lump in his throat. He could feel tears at the edge of falling. 

“You still there, Ro?” Drew asked when he realized how quiet Roman was. Roman bit his trembling lower lip hard enough to calm his voice. 

“Yea. Yea, sorry to bother your office dinner, Drew. I didn’t know,” 

“How about we meet another time, huh? My treat next time?” Roman’s head felt light. He did not know what to say. He was not sure if Drew still wanted him around anymore. His mind was a mess at this point. He loved Drew so much. He loved the Scotsman. Drew was his everything before. Drew would always care for him. Drew would at least tell him he would not be coming tonight. Drew would not leave him like this. In the middle of a new town, freezing outside of the building for hours.

“It’s alright, babe. You’re......you’ll probably be too busy with your work too. I’m sorry, Drew but I hope you eat well tonight. I have to go now, the movie is starting soon. Bye, Drew,” Roman did not wait for the other man to answer as he ended the call instantly. Tears ran down his face. Roman had to walk to somewhere less crowded as he cried. Of course, some people were looking at him but it was not like they knew who he was. Roman felt nothing but pain in his chest right now. His heart was broken. His trust was gone. The warmth that he hoped to feel tonight was blown away by the cold winter night. Had Drew really fallen out of love? Did he find someone else there? Roman’s lip was bleeding by the time he had calmed down. He did not want to scream in the middle of the street. 

The Samoan decided to not watch the movie. He went to a café to get himself a hot cup of coffee and a slice of cake. He drove back once he had bought everything he needed for himself that night. He saw Drew called several times during his drive but Roman continued to focus on the road. Sure, he still had tears leaking out of his eyes as he handled the wheel, but he tried to ignore them. Drew did not want him around anymore, what was the point of staying? 

When Roman finally reached home, it was already 10:45pm. He brought everything inside and placed them on the dining table. Roman was exhausted. His eyes hurt. He did not feel like crying anymore. He looked around the small living room area. They used to cuddle up in that sofa. They used to be happy. Drew used to be there for him. Used to. Maybe he did find someone else. Someone new. Someone closer to home. Roman sighed heavily. He could not even bring himself to cry anymore. 

Roman switched on to IG as he sat the box of cake on the small coffee table. It had been awhile since he last logged into his IG account, he almost forgot his own password. His thumb scrolling down to see latest uploaded posts, but suddenly his eyes fixated on one particular post. It was Drew’s. A video actually. Drew was laughing and joking around with another man. A friend, maybe, for now. They went to places together, based on Drew’s IG posts. A recent video was of him went ice skating with the same man. Roman closed his eyes. He was tired. His heart was tired. It was still in pain. He could not breathe properly. 

Roman logged off his account and went to text his friend instead. Mox was in town, Seth was in town, his cousins were still on vacation so he decided to text Mox. 

‘Mind if I sleep at your place tonight?’ Roman clicked send. Lesser than two minutes later, his phone dinged. A reply.

‘’Course not, big dog! Been wanting to drag you out of the house anyway. I’ll call Seth too. Sleepover party, baby!’ Mox’s reply made Roman smile again. He laughed a little before he told Mox he was packing his things up. He did not think he could sleep in his own house tonight. Not with this heartache. Roman packed whatever he needed and drove away to Mox’s place. 

Drew sent him some texts that night, asking Roman where he was and if he had made it home safely. He tried to call Roman again the next day but Roman just stared at the little device in his hand as it rang, and later tucked it away. His chest still hurt. It was like someone just set his whole ribcage on fire. Maybe it was the best for both of them. Roman locked the door to his small home. The home he used to share with Drew. He was staying with Mox for now.. Drew did not need to know that.

Bye, Drew.....

#Y's fic #mcreigns #but make it sad #is this sad? #nah this is a weak attempt of angst bc I didnt want to write too long #whatever it's out now #I wrote this in 2 hours so pls expect errors and redundant sentences bc Im sleepy #sad baby Ro this time #I hve no plan to write happy ending #I still love both of them dont shoot

[stardancerluv]

Gotham Lockdown 2020

Part 17

Summary: What’s real?

Sitting, by the window as you watched the snow drift out of the sky you were happy with how Christmas was shaping up. Roman, was really trying to make it special. You still couldn’t believe that he had managed to find away for you to watch Gotham’s tree being put up.

Her phone, buzzed to life. She looked down, it was the woman she called her mother. Wow. The lockdown had been going on and she barely heard from her. Thanksgiving, had come and gone, never even heard from her. Probably, sentimental since Christmas was going to be there soon.

Sighing, she answered. Soon she regretted.

“You are spending it again with that killer?” She paused. “I raised you better then that.”

Hanging up, you had a headache. Getting, up you went over to lay on the sofas. Eventually, you let yourself drift off to sleep.

*****

Feeling cooped up, stretching decided to take a walk around Roman’s building. Sure the two you had been an item for awhile now but you didn’t know everything in the building. Taking, the elevator down you decided to start in the basement.

Slowly, you walked Roman’s many cars. He had so many. Some were sporty, some where elegant and classy and some were rather powerful!

Behind, one of the more powerful cars you see a door. You had never really noticed it before. Going over you shrugging, probably just stores stuff to clean the cars. You turned the knob.

A light flickered on and you gasped. It was a large room. You couldn’t help but walk in.

To your right was an entire area was covered and held a slew of weapons. Continuing further in you were not terribly surprised when you saw more suits. Vaguely, you wondered if the were armored or were someway protective gear.

Seeing a large table it was a mass of blue prints, newspapers and photos. You could only shook your head.

You smiled as you spotted a very neat black desk. You were surprised to see a photo of you and him on it. Glancing it though, you brow wrinkled. You saw a few old, really clippings. One of your first interviews another was all the press you got for working with Bruce Wayne. Why would Roman still have it or even to begin with, we only had met that one time.

Shaking it off you picked up the frame that held the photo of the two of you, when they world wasn’t crazy, you mused putting back a black leather book fell over and opened.

Glancing at it, you saw Roman’s handwriting. Fliping through a few pages you noticed notes here and there about to bring one particular rival down. Turning back, towards the front of the book your curiosity was tickled.

Beautiful fucking girl with purple hair came into club. Brought her champagne but disappeared.

Saw girl with purple hair by chance with fucking Waynd. She ran off again. I am starting to think she is Cinderella.

Update, Three years later - She is doing wonders in Gotham. Her natural hair color much better then purple. Seen her work. Should hire her. She could do my office and me, you giggled as the last bit was crossed off.

Zsasz, completed background look. She is as lovely as ever. Maybe now, I could try and get to know her.

Update, kill or scare her fucking competition. He wants to her ruin her.

New update, her competition left her a horrible threatening letter. Kidnap plan ready

Fuck, Zsasz fucked up. Damn. She is amazing. I think I could love her. She is fiesty. I am still as attracted to her as I was when I met her.

“Y/N, what the fuck are you doing in here?”

You jumped and dropped the book.

“I saw a door and I was curious.”

“Well, this my and Zsasz’s private room. It’s the heart of my kingdom.”

“Oh!”

He grabbed you. “Well, now that you saw it get the fuck out.” He pushed towards the door.

“But Roman...”

“What did I say?” Rage burned in his eyes.

*******

Roman, finally finished his calls. That was it. No more fucking business till after the new year. It was not worth the aggravation.

“Baby?” He looked in your studio. You weren’t there. He went out the living room. Hearing soft sounds, he walked further in.

His annoyance from business melted away. First, catching how the Christmas lights played off your face but then he saw your anguish. It looked like you were having another nightmare. Ever since being knocked out by that chloroform you’ve had some bad dreams.

Kneeling beside the sofa, he brushed some hair from your face. “Baby,” He whispered wake up. “Baby.”

When getting up a little, he leaning against the sofa, he bent down and gave you a kiss. “Baby, wake up.”

You stirred and pulled back. “Huh, what?”

He knelt down beside you. “You were having a nightmare again.” If had not killed them already, he’d kill them again.

Panting, you sat up on the sofa. “Oh Roman you were so mad at me.” You whimpered and threw your arms around him.

He sighed and held you tight. “I can’t even imagine being mad at you. What a stupid dream.”

You pulled back and nodded.

It did tickle his curiosity though. “Why was I angry? Did you take the last marshmallow, again?”

You smiled finally. “No, I went into the heart of your kingdom.”

“The heart of my kingdom? Seriously?” He shook his head

You nodded. “Only heart I know, is you.” He smiled at you.

“Roman, that is incredibly sweet.” And you hugged him again.” You nestled close. “But tell me, do you have a lair where you keep everything?”

He chuckled, “You curiosity is as bad as mine.” He stood up and drew you up against him. “You sure you wanna see it?”

“You have one?”

“Baby, my office is not enough for half of what Victor and I do.”

“Only if its ok with you?”

“Baby, if we’re going to be together till the end,” feeling a little poetic, he kissed where the ring rested on your finger. “I can show it to you now.”

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @nebulastarr @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @itsknife2meetu @gothamsbatman @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @nomnomnomnamja @poe-kadot26 @top-rumbelle-fan @babydoll97 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @rosionis @queenofgotham800 @brookisbi @peachthatdrinkslemonade @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @rentskenobi @starwarsslytherin @proffesionalclown @chogisss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @corey-clown @shantellorraine @bubblesmaketheworldgoround-blog

#gotham lockdown 2020 #part 17 #ewan mcgregor #roman sionis x you #roman sionis imagine #roman sionis x y/n #roman sionis x reader #black mask x y/n #black mask fanfiction #black mask x you #black mask x reader #black mask #bop #birds of prey

[blissfulalchemist]

“Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?” + WesCat (Friendship)

Thank you for sending this in! Please enjoy Kate!

The phone vibrated away for the third time in a row as Cat looked at the screen. Wren’s name showed up again and Cat couldn’t bring herself to hit the hang up button as she laid curled up in bed. The time on the phone read two in the afternoon, she was supposed to be at work today, she called off last night, not telling Wren. It had to be the reason she was calling Cat now, wasn’t like Cat to just not show up with no warning. 

She had tried though, the whole week she kept going to work, putting the smile on her face, keeping herself upbeat and busy….and still she would sit in her car exhausted and crying driving home or to Raf’s. She stopped going anywhere else but home and work a few days ago. Her communication limited and dwindled over the week with everyone. Now, here she was not even going to work or making contact with anyone. 

Cat groaned and put the comforter over her face, shielding the small rays of light peeking through the curtains. She didn’t want to be mean but she also didn’t want to have to explain everything to Wren. They were just starting to become friends and she didn’t want to screw that up….though she probably was by ignoring Wren’s calls. Catlina sighed under the sheets, I’ll text her after a nap. Tell her I came down with a cold and I’ll be back to normal soon. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Wes slammed the door of the cruiser gathering the bag of hamburgers and drinks from the roof of the car, making his way to Wren. She had found a picnic table with a good view of the river, something she normally enjoyed admiring if she didn’t seem frustrated looking at her phone. She hit the redial button as Wes got himself and their lunch settled, her foot tapping as she waited for someone to pick up. Wes could hear the faint voice of a computer woman informing Wren that she should leave a message for whoever she was calling. Wren rolled her eyes, running a hand through her hair, letting out a breath, “Hey Cat it’s me Wren….again. Look can you just call me back when you can? I’m worried about you.”

Wes looked at Wren, eyebrow raised, “E’erything okay?” He asked as she pulled out her burger and fries taking a sip of her drink. 

She sighed shrugging, “Mostly. I just- Well Cat didn’t come into work today. They said she called out last night.”

Wes shrugged, “Maybe she got sick,” he let out a small laugh, “Raf finally gave her food poisoning.” He took a bite of his food watching as Wren tapped a French fry against the paper surrounding the burger. 

“That’s the thing though,” she started, “He came in and asked for her. He told me he hasn’t seen her for a few days now and she cancelled their plans for the week. He was hoping to bring her lunch.”

Wes’ mind replayed all that she had said, the pieces starting to click. Wren had the two statements backwards, Raf was bringing lunch because he hadn’t seen her due to the canceled plan. Cat was wanting time alone and during those times she didn’t always eat or care for herself as she should, Raf was trying to gauge how bad she had gotten. If she was still making it to work things weren’t bad yet, if she missed she was getting to a point where she needed more care. It had been awhile since she got this bad. “He tell ya not to worry?”

“Yeah, but how can I not worry,” Wren drew lines in the ketchup, “She’s my friend, Wes. We just started to get close and now she disappears like this,” she shook her head, “just doesn’t feel normal for her.”

Wes reached out, grabbing Wren’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, “I’ll check on her. Think I know where to start.” He gave her a reassuring smile before going back to finishing their lunch quickly. Wes watched as Wren drove away in her Jeep before pulling out his phone sending a text to his friend: 

Going to check on her. Unless you already did. 

The response time was quick from Rafael:

Haven’t gotten a chance yet. Still at work. I'm going to when I finish, I’ll meet you at her place when I do. 

Wes nodded to himself as he put his phone away starting up the car making his way to the small studio above the Spread Eagle. Her purple sedan was parked next to him behind the building, a good sign. Wes looked at his key ring spotting the silver key with a pink flower sticker at the base, spares Raf made without her knowing after last time. Felt wrong to have it without her knowing but last time they had to break the door down after she stopped communicating for almost a week. It was a bit of a misunderstanding as to what the two men had walked into that day; Cat passed out in the bed, a medication bottle emptied on the counter, another, sleeping pills, beside her empty, the small uniformed cuts along her inner arm is what kicked their worry into overdrive. Both men worked to try and get her to wake up or respond to them in some way. When she wouldn’t they rushed her into the car making their way to the hospital. 

The actual story, Cat hadn’t eaten for three days straight and hadn’t slept for two days, she’d taken two sleeping pills to try and help get back to normal. They hadn’t agreed with her as she sleptwalked, her body trying to go about a normal day, flushing the sleeping pills down the toilet in the process. The cuts were shallow and created not for the purpose of wanting to die but for trying to regulate her mood. Rafael and Wes were halfway to the hospital by the time she started to wake up. 

Wes hoped it wasn’t so bad this time as he walked up the stairs, it seemed like they caught it early this time around. The studio was small and easy to see the mess of brown hair underneath the blankets, and other than the mess of dishes and take out, everything else seemed to be as it should be. He shut the door quietly as he walked towards the mattress on the floor, she was breathing still, asleep, but breathing. Her phone rang with another call from Wren, hand reaching to try and turn it off, Wes beating her to it. She didn’t wake and Wes didn’t want to wake her. He looked around and decided to pick up some of the empty food boxes and dishes lying about, trying to not make too much noise. When that was done Wes took the time to text Wren and Raf with his findings, his friend getting more details, leaving it up to Cat on how much she wanted to tell his girlfriend. He took a seat on the chair she had, turning the tv on to a low volume, the cooking he’d leave to Raf once he got here. 

By the time Catlina had stirred the sun had started to set and her stomach was twisting in hunger. The only other light in the room came from the black and white cowboy movie Wes was watching, she didn’t want him here. “You don’t need to keep watch,” she mumbled, turning to face the other side, “This isn’t a psych hospital.” Her hand felt around for the sleeve of crackers that she left on the other side of the bed last night, “Where are my crackers?”

“They ain’t a meal,” he replied, looking at his phone.

She grumbled, closing up into more of a ball clutching her stomach, “Don’t feel like cooking.”

Wes got up to look in the fridge, “You got leftovers,” he opened them making sure none of them were bad. Cat stayed silent as Wes let out a slow breath, “That bad huh?”

It was bad that she hadn’t even been able to heat up the food in the microwave, more than that though it felt like too much work to eat the meals. Crackers were easy and less hassle, she could keep them near, never had to leave the bed to eat. She felt her eyelids get heavier, the energy leaving her body quickly, “I’m tired Wes. You should go home.”

He shook his head pulling out some pasta they had over the weekend, the contents going onto a plate and then the microwave. She covered her head, the aching in her chest feeling painful, her eyes shutting as she tried to keep the tears from falling. “Take your meds today?” Wes asked as he nuked the food another thirty seconds, trying to figure out if she had based on what was left in the bottle. Math was never his strong suit and it looked like this would be something to leave to Raf when he got here. 

He grabbed the plate bringing it over to the bed sitting next to her, offering it to her. She looked up at him through narrowed eyes, the smell of the food calling her to wake up and eat. She gave a small shake of her head, her stomach betraying her. 

“Gotta eat. Worked hard on it,” he joked, smirking, putting the plate closer to her face, “Ain’t leaving till you eat.” Catlina sighed, releasing herself a little from the ball she had put herself in. She grabbed the fork with a bite on it chewing slowly once the pasta made contact with her mouth. As soon as she swallowed she felt like it was going to come back up. Wes set the plate on the ground next to him, “Here,” he grabbed her, moving her so her back hit the wall and she was mostly sitting, “Better.” He put the plate in her lap, getting up to grab her some water. Wes looked back at her watching as she slowly brought another bite to her lips, her hand falling limply back to her lap. 

Wes scavenged her cupboards for the stash of kool aid powder she had lying about, there was a lot she had stashed trying to keep her air of decent eating habits with Rafael. It was a mystery as to what she would do once they decided to finally just move in together, she’d still try to find places to hide them. He finally found what he was looking for in the top of a cupboard, “Do you jus’ climb everywhere?” He asked, reaching for it, his eyes straying to a plastic container with a panting coyote with a bright red tongue and a red pepper running away in victory. Wes pulled it down also looking it over, habanero pepper peanuts, his favorite. He looked up to Cat who had moved on to the third bite, “Thought you didn’t like spicy peanuts?”

She looked up to him briefly, her eyes not fully focusing on him, “I don’t,” her voice flat, “Got them for you.” 

Wes set the peanuts down, “They’re my favorites.”

“I know,” her tone of voice made it sound so matter of fact, Wes’ heart fell a little at the difference in his friend. 

“Raf?” He guessed, giving a smirk looking at the comical picture.

She shook her head, “No. You told me that night we got drunk, when we played twenty questions.” Wes mixed the water with two spoonfuls of mix, “It’s four spoonfuls.”

He rolled his eyes adding the two more scoops, “You ‘membered that?”

She gave a small shrug, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” Wes stopped stirring the drink taking her in as she continued to look down, “I kept an eye out for them,” she gave a small snort and smallest of smiles, “I almost bought the whole box they had in the store for you.” She looked up to his face, “Only reason I didn’t was ‘cause I became unsure if they were the ones you mentioned.” Wes looked down to the container of peanuts, the corners of his mouth lifting, “Meant to give them sooner but….,” he made his way over to her as he saw her eyes fill with tears, “Sorry I didn’t. I didn’t mean to, I just-.” 

His arms wrapped around her tightly, Cat stiffening before returning the hug weakly, “Thank you. I love it.” He pulled back away from her with a giant smile on his face, laughing when his eyes looked at the bottle’s picture. 

Cat did a double take, “Wait,” she looked at his face, blinking back the tears, as he tried to go back to containing his emotions, “Wes did I sleep my way into an alternate universe or did you really crack an actual smile?”

“What of it?” he replied, getting up to grab her drink, waving off her comment.

Cat looked down pushing some hair behind her ear, the ache in her chest alleviating a little, “Nothing, just-. It- well you should smile more. It lights up a room.”

Wes didn’t respond, just shook his head as his phone went off, glancing briefly at the screen, “Raf’s here.” Cat looked down at the plate of pasta, it wasn’t very filling for her and felt tasteless.

“You think he’d-,” she stopped listening to something outside. It was muffled but was clearly music and nothing that would be played in the bar below. Cat tried to place the melody of the song, feeling it familiar, “With her sweetened breath,” she mouthed, “and her tongue so mean,” the song title hitting her, someone was playing Hozier outside her window. The knock at the door proved it to not be Raf as he walked in placing a grocery bag on the counter. 

She was slow as she moved off the bed, comforter wrapped around her as she made her way to the window. She pushed the curtain back a little looking down, there in the neon lighting she saw Wren, portable speaker in hand above her head. Cat opened the window a little bit, the song clearer now, Wren smiled at her, “Wes said you weren’t feeling well!” She shouted turning the volume down a little, “Thought you could use a little bit of a pick me up!” Cat gave her a smile, turning back to Wes who was already making his way to the door. 

Cat only turned away once she saw Wes come up the side of the building, making her way to Raf in the small kitchen, resting her forehead against his shoulder. He smiled, placing a kiss on the top of her head, “Should I make the usual, Conejito?” She turned her head looking at what he had on the counter through her messy hair, boxes of Kraft mac and cheese in various shapes and a package of hot dogs. She felt her eyes fill with tears nodding against him. He moved the arm she leaned against to wrap around her shoulders pulling her closer to him, “As you wish mi amor,” he gave her a kiss on her forehead as Wren walked in through the door. 

“Okay I want in on this rotation now,” she demanded gently pulling Cat towards her. Wren gave her a once over before pulling her in a hug, “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” she said into Wren’s dark hair, “I didn’t mean too.”

“No need to be sorry,” her hands ran over the blanket where Cat’s hair was, “Should have told me. You know I would understand,” Cat nodded against her, “But I know it’s because you don’t want to feel like burdening another person in your life. Now I know and I’m telling you that I do not feel like you are a burden.” She walked Cat back to the bed, “We’ll still give you the space you need,” if she wasn’t so tired Catlina would laugh at how quick Wren was in taking control of the situation, “but one of us will come by to make sure you’re at least eating one proper meal a day, got it?” Wren pointed a finger at her waiting for her response, Cat nodded, “Good. Now I made sure to get you at least a week off from work so you don’t have to worry about that. And tonight we are all watching your favorite movie and having dinner before we leave you alone.” Wren sat her on the bed taking a spot next to her grabbing a few movies options Cat had lying around. 

Cat nodded, snuggling into Wren, resting her head against her shoulder, “Thank you,” she said softly. Cat glanced to the bed’s orientation, “We should turn the bed around. Make sure there’s enough room for all of you to sit comfortably.”

Wren smiled, lying Cat down, “Wes,” she instructed pulling his attention, “You heard her. Let's get this bed reoriented.” They were fast at making sure the long side of the bed faced the television, Wren settling back into place next to Cat. She helped her pick a movie that they all could watch while the two men cooked. Bowls were passed around once the food was done and Stardust was loaded up to play. The group only paused the movie to switch from dinner to dessert; a pint of raspberry cheesecake ice cream for Wren and Cat, lemon bars from a local bakery for Raf, and the spicy peanuts for Wes. 

Cat was exhausted by the end of the movie and watched as everyone put things back in order. Wes put the bed back into place when she reached for his hand, he sat next to her on the bed, “Why did you call them here?”

“You needed us,” Cat looked down avoiding his face, “Can’t tell me you’d do any different.”

“You guys deserve all the love in the world,” she sighed, closing her eyes.

“So do you,” Wes laid her down, “It’s what friends do. Remind you how loved you are.”

#brotp: red brooks bros #Uhm yeah friendships that help the other are like my life blood okay #captain xwing

[myssamyss]

Everything Stays, Part 2 of 6

Featuring the first two panels of “The Bet” by Jojo.  Part 2: ...It’ll Cause You to Drown Link rode into the heart of Lon Lon Ranch with a single-minded purpose: his visits needed to end.

He dismounted and fought against the comforting familiarity that rose to meet him as he approached the ranch house. Even this small stretch of yard held sweet memories. Once, in a fit of playful frustration, Malon had upturned an entire jug of milk over his head in this very spot, laughing melodiously all the while. They’d both gotten in trouble with her father at the time. Now, he smiled to recall the refreshing shock.

If he stepped just a little further onto the grounds to the main corral, he’d come upon an older memory. His favorite memory of her, but one that only he knew:

“I can’t believe it, but peace is returning to this ranch! It’s all because of you! I owe you so much! Thank you! Thank you, Link!”

He clung to that memory like a candle in darkness after returning to his childhood, for though he’d been forced to reforge many friendships, rebuilding Malon’s trust had frustrated him the most. At first, he hadn’t thought much of that frustration. The memory of their first meeting burned brightly in his mind: she’d been the only child in a sea of strange adults filling a strange town, back when he was fresh out of the Kokiri forest and utterly overwhelmed. But she seemed safe, so he was drawn to her like a moth to a vivid red flame. Years later, she’d somehow remembered him after he emerged from the Temple of Time. Losing such a meaningful history with any friend was bound to be frustrating, or so he’d justified. But then their relationship grew beyond what had been lost, and he found himself thinking of her constantly. He hadn’t realized until too late–she'd become his haven.

The weight of his feelings for her hadn’t struck him until his last visit, when she confessed to thinking of him often, too, before delicately pressing her lips to his cheek. Her kiss blindsided him with happiness. But that euphoria lasted only until he was back in the saddle and leaving the ranch. Once he was out on the open road, he’d finally been able to think. He’d been so caught up in joy that he’d almost forgotten his most painful lesson in trusting others; he knew what inevitably happened to the people he placed his comfort in...

Link sighed loudly to shake away his thoughts, turned to the ranch house, and forced his hand to knock at the familiar wooden door.

Just say what needs saying. Then leave, he coached himself as he waited at the threshold. He could even leave the message with her father. She was usually out with the horses at this time of day, so he could just speak with Talon and leave her undistracted. But the stifling heat must have interrupted her daily schedule, because when the door flew open, he found himself face-to-face with Malon.

“Link!” she exclaimed. Her eyes shone with excitement and her lips–the same soft lips he now felt in his dreams–broke into a huge smile. Distracted, he couldn’t get a single word out before she pulled him into an exuberant hug, trapping his arms by his side and scattering his thoughts completely.

“I’ve missed you, fairy boy! Looking for some more work?” she asked. He smiled at the nickname. He’d grown taller than ever before, yet she still teased him as she had when he was a boy.

“You picked a heckuva day to do some farm chores,” she warned him with a teasing smile. She pulled the back of her hand across her glistening brow.

He focused on fixing this memory of her in his mind: her blue eyes full of laughter, one hand still clutching his arm, her vibrant hair framing her flushed face.  If he walked away now, he could remember her this way, always.

He took a deep breath.

“I actually... came to say goodbye,” he told her. “For awhile, at least.”

Malon’s expression turned wooden. “What do you mean…?” she asked.

“I probably won’t be back for a long time,” he told her, staring at the yellow kerchief draped over her shoulder so he wouldn’t have to meet her eyes.

If she was upset, she hid it well, and Link silently thanked the goddesses for Malon’s gracious spirit.

“Where will you stay tonight?” she asked, her voice becoming surprisingly cheery. “Won’t you stay with us, just for one night? The spare room is made up already, you can sleep warm and cozy there.”

She peered up at him and he nearly drowned in her blue eyes, brimming with hope beneath deep lashes. Link didn’t know how to refuse.

“Fine,” he agreed.

One night. In the morning, he’d say goodbye.

***

Wild carefully nocked three arrows onto his bow. He glanced down from the low cliff he stood atop to mark his makeshift leaf targets knifed to a tree nearly fifty meters away, then he leapt from the cliff and drew back the bowstring in a single fluid motion.

He exhaled steadily as he fell, seeking the familiar state of perfect concentration when the wind in his ears would quiet and the world would stand still.

Instead, the wind roared and the world blurred around him. He felt a surprising twinge of pain as he let his arrows fly, before rapidly stowing his bow and switching his hands to grab the handles of his glider in well-practiced coordination. His left forearm stung. As he floated back down to the ground, Zelda’s voice echoed in his mind:

“May I ask, do you really remember me?”

A second voice followed. Warriors, this time, from the night before:

“...and a guy like him? He’s well collected, acts like he’s always on duty.”

Wild’s feet touched down in soft grass and he stowed his glider, glancing at his forearm which sported a red, angry welt where the bowstring had whipped across it. He hadn’t made that mistake since the Great Plateau—and even then, the muscle memory of pulling a bow had quickly cured him of the habit. It was amazing how much his subconscious remembered; if only his consciousness could have followed suit.

He marched to the target-tree. Two of the arrows had at least met the trunk, though the third was nowhere to be seen. He peered into the forest and tried to catch a glimpse of the fletching amid the dull green grass.

Footsteps crunched from behind him.

“You missed?” Legend called out incredulously as he emerged from deeper in the forest. The man’s red tunic stood out against the dark greens surrounding them, though the contrast was less striking than usual. Wild realized with a slight start that the light in the forest was waning.

Legend stared at the targets. “We may have to revoke your ‘Greatest Archer of All Link-Kind’ title,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m surprised you’re still out here, I thought you were heading back early to cook.”

Wild sighed and said nothing. Legend took the hint.

The soft clink of armor and the nearly imperceptible pad of a second pair of footsteps against the forest floor met Wild’s ears. He turned to see Time and Twilight making their way through the underbrush from the direction of camp. Twilight smiled and raised a gauntlet-covered hand in a casual wave as he approached. Wild managed to twitch the side of his mouth into a half smile for his friend, but the slight darkening of Twilight’s expression told him that he hadn’t been very convincing.

“We’re heading out next, thought we’d come find you two since, uh...” Twilight trailed off.

“We weren’t sure if you were still cooking,” Time picked up smoothly, turning to Wild, “or if you wanted someone else to? If you need more time training, any of us can step in, the job doesn’t always have to fall to you.”

Wild dropped his gaze and nodded. “I’m fine. Let me grab my arrows, I’m done,” he replied flatly. He turned and started off in the direction of his lost arrow, acutely aware of the telling silence from the other heroes behind him. Did they really find it so strange that he’d lost track of time?

After a quiet moment, he heard the distinctive steps of the mentor-and-student pair as they walked deeper into the woods. Wild crouched among the forest foliage and tried to find a piece of broken grass or skid-scored dirt that might announce his arrow’s path, but the day’s light was failing fast. Besides, he reasoned, he had hundreds of arrows in his Sheikah slate, what point was there in collecting this one? He straightened up, dismayed, and turned to find Legend waiting for him.

“No luck, huh?” he asked Wild, raising his eyebrows in a rare show of genuine concern.

Wild shook his head and strode to where Legend stood, then they started back toward camp together. The only sounds between them were the quiet jostling of gear and the swishing of Legend’s tunic.

“Hey, Legend,” Wild said softly as he pushed aside a low-hanging branch. “Thank you. For what you said last night.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, anytime.” Legend shrugged. “I was getting damn sick of it too. Plus, I have a feeling that I’ll win this bet.” He smirked.

Wild wasn’t so sure, but he gave Legend an amused smile in return. He wasn’t necessarily sick of the Wife Debate. But the conversation at camp last night had stirred a deep realization inside of him, leaving him unsettled.

Ever since the heroes had learned of Time’s mysterious wife, they had taken to swapping theories about her identity each time the Old Man left camp. Everyone was curious. Well, everyone except Twilight, who likely knew more than he let on, and Legend, who had kept uncharacteristically quiet during the discussions, until last night:

“My money’s still on Zelda,” Warriors reiterated. To no one’s surprise, Sky nodded his hearty agreement.

Legend stood up suddenly and joined the banter for the first time. “You think he’s married to Zelda?” he asked Warriors, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“He speaks so highly of her,” Warriors explained, “and a guy like him? He’s well collected, acts like he’s always on duty. It’s got to be the princess herself.”

The pair had bickered lightly until Legend finally ended the discussion by throwing down a bet. Still, Warriors’ words had already stuck in Wild’s mind like a splinter he just couldn’t pick out. They poked at his conscience, and he found himself running over the words again and again long into the night, becoming increasingly frustrated. Because Warriors’ reasoning about Time was sound; the older man never quite seemed at ease. Was that the price to pay for winning the princess? Though, Legend apparently disagreed...

Wild glanced at the other Link walking beside him. He hadn’t realized it before, but he and Legend had something in common: the ability to listen and see. So maybe he’s right, Wild considered. Legend did a great job of feigning indifference behind fast words, but his actions betrayed his insight. Like now, as they walked through the forest, sharing the comfortable understanding that nothing more needed saying.

Later that evening, Wild sat beside their campfire and halved mushrooms with a short paring knife while his mind still spun. After last night’s talk of partners and princesses, couldn’t help but replay that final evening with his Princess Zelda–the night he’d been whisked away. He’d returned from his upsetting encounter with the orphan in the swamp, but said nothing about it to Zelda. Instead, he sat beside the fire and listened. Zelda spoke ceaselessly of Zora’s Domain which lay ahead, her eagerness to meet with Prince Sidon after so much time, and her relief to be traveling Hyrule once more. Wild had been quiet. She was so captivating, and passionate, and he couldn’t bear to break her excitement.

Deeper, unspoken words still hung between them, but Wild had always struggled to voice the unsaid. In honesty, he wasn’t sure what she needed from him. With only a few scraps of memories to work from, he didn’t dare hazard a guess at her deeper thoughts. Still, he’d seen enough in his memories to guess at what she expected of him, and he fell easily back into a half-remembered regimen of simply listening and doing his job.

He’d gotten up to stoke their campfire when the scenery around him shifted abruptly and he found himself standing barefoot in an entirely different Hyrule with no way back, despite how desperately he tried to return to her. So, he kept moving forward. He’d done a fair enough job of keeping her out of his mind, at least until the Wife Debate began.

A rustling noise rose behind Wild. He automatically turned away from their brightly lit camp to peer out into the forest, but his eyes couldn’t see much in the darkness. He turned back to the stew pot and continued slicing, unbothered. The woods were teeming with wildlife, plus he trusted in Wind and Hyrule’s ability to keep their watch. And even if enemies lurked out in the forest, Wild had probably fought worse.

But what about his Zelda, alone and a world away? He tried not to worry. After all, she was clever and resourceful, and the monsters across their Hyrule had lost some ferocity since Calamity Ganon’s defeat. Not to mention she proved a quick study with a sword. She slew her first bokoblin with a scimitar near the Hylia River in a flashing gleam of steel and ruby. He suspected that she’d been secretly practicing long before he began teaching her. Wild had full confidence in her abilities.

The matter of her safety aside, half of his heart still ached to return to her, and to their journey across Hyrule. His own Hyrule, the one he had worked so hard to rescue. Yet as he journeyed instead with the heroes of ages past, he began to realize something else, too: he felt happier here, adventuring, than he’d ever felt back home. His heart was conflicted. He knew what he should want–but he was altogether sick of ‘shoulds’. He’d had enough of duty for duty’s sake. Sure makes things easier though, he reflected. A duty was clear, while his own desires were proving fickle.

Wild shook his head and threw the heaping pile of mushrooms into the boiling pot, then he thumbed the painful welt on his forearm. Stewing over stew, he mused to himself with a quiet chuckle. At least some things never change. ___________ Author’s Note: thanks as always to @clumsydarknut for beta-reading. 

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #LU #Time #Wild #Zelda #Malon #MaLink #Breath of the Wild #Ocarina of Time #Majora's Mask #Legend of Zelda #LoZ #Hero of Time #Hero of the Wild #Everything Stays

[kensboytoy]

Oh, Loverboy

Title: Oh, Loverboy Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Pairings: Yamada Hizashi (Present Mic)/Reader (Gender Neutral) Ratings: General  Summary: Pro Hero Present Mic is a total sap. He proves that about 365 days of the year. Well, until he forgets to get a gift for his new lover on White Day. What can the hero scheme up to surprise them?

Continue Reading or Read on AO3!

As the days settled firmly into March, White Day was upon Japan rather quickly. Present Mic hadn’t really thought about it until Midnight opened her big mouth.

“So, Yamada,” the mature hero cooed, seemingly popping out of nowhere, startling Mic pretty badly. “What are you planning for your new little plaything?”

“HEY YO, what the hell?!” Confused, Hizashi blinked. “Huh…? What’s that supposed to mean?”

He cocked his head to the side and squinted behind his tinted glasses in confusion.

Midnight raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips.

“Don’t tell me that you’ve blown it already! It’s White Day tomorrow - you know, when you give your sweetheart some fancy chocolates and go out on a nice date.”

Mic blinked again. Midnight sighed dramatically.

“You and your new little lover have been an item for awhile now, right? They gave you something last month, hm? Well, how about you show your love for them in a simple gesture? You’re the type to get mushy, Yamada.”

“Mic-”

“Yamada. I expected you to go all out! So let tomorrow be the day where you show that big ol’ softie side we all know you have on a day that it’s socially acceptable.”

The dominating woman gave him a wink before sauntering out of the teacher’s lounge, leaving Mic to lean back into his chair. He folded his arms, tongue rolling against his cheek while he looked up at the blinding fluorescent lights. Lover’s Day already? He always made some dumb speech on his radio show about reminding others to get something special but this year had totally blanked on it. Damnit! How could he be this unprepared? It wasn’t like him to forget something so special.

So, that night, Mic racked his brain with all the things he should do to show his partner that he loved them. Well, of course they should have already known! But, Midnight was right in the fact that Mic needed to channel all of that cheesiness about being so in love and actually show them. The Pro Hero wasn’t that open in terms of affection in public when he was in costume, he’d rather prove it behind closed doors to keep his partner safe. It was dangerous to be found dating a hero and though he loved being vocal, he wasn’t stupid.

But Mic loved showering his partner with everything under the sun - from sweets to big teddy bears. Present Mic was as doting as he was loud. He loved surprising them with dinner dates or trips to festivals. However, when it came to such a romantic day, he drew a blank. There was mad pressure to do something special!

Idly, he flipped on his laptop and started to lose his head in grading papers. Maybe if he was fully immersed in something else that a genius idea would strike him out of nowhere.

A sushi date? No, no… that place with the gachapon was alright but more like a high school date than a proper Lover’s Day one. Besides, it would be super crowded with chumps like him waiting until the last minute to do something! Irritated, he tapped his pen furiously on his desk while he corrected improper English.

An arcade could be fun. Games of all kinds, UFO catchers, and even a Purikura machine. He could win them a super cute plush and have them swooning! Ah, but it would probably be packed with kids in the afternoon. And if his students found out… He’d be toast! Teased and roasted more than he was already with the teachers.

The hours ticked by as Hizashi finished his grading. He was about ready to nod off for the night when, in his daydream, he knew exactly what to do. The idea sparked something in his mind that shot off like a rocket. It was no time to sleep!

Hurriedly, he donned his leather jacket and rushed out the door to his recording studio. He needed to noodle this idea out before his fingers forgot the melody.

--

“Hey, baby! Can I come in?” the familiar voice managed to shout from the other side of your door.

You smiled to yourself at the comforting warmth of the Pro Hero’s presence. You opened the door to see the tall man hunched slightly, so his gelled hair wouldn’t hit the door frame, with a sheepish smile on his face. Mic gave a little wave before that hand sifted through the hair on the back of his head.

“Sorry for not coming to your place last night, baby. I, uh, was caught up in something. You got a minute?”

“What’s the matter?” you asked, worry in your voice as you watched Mic scoot into the room.

“N-nothing’s wrong! I just, uh. I wanted to give you something before we head out today!”

Curious, you looked the usually cocky man up and down as if to question him. Before any awkward silence could drag on, he shoved a fist out towards you and forked over a perfectly wrapped present. The wrapping was impeccable! You were pleasantly surprised, honestly. There was a small tag on it that read ‘To My Favorite Listener’. You opened your mouth to speak but the uncomfortable way Mic was looking away meant that the hero wanted to get the suspense over with. Though, that could have been just from his usual antsiness.

Carefully, your digits unwrapped the small present and the box was soon popped opened. A smile stretched across your face as you scanned the cover of the CD.

Love Songs for My Sweetheart.

Was this a mixtape? You scanned the cover art - some abstract piece of his DJ set with little lights dancing around. It was filled with warm colours that made you melt into the sense of security that you always had around Mic. How he could embody the feelings that he invoked in you was so amazing. You knew he dabbled in art but this would make you bug him to see more someday.

You flipped the CD over to the back and read the tracklist. None of them were songs you recognized, surprisingly. You thought you knew his go-to list for all his sappy romance playlists. Upon closer inspection, however, you realized that none of these had an artist listed beside the track number. Blinking, you thought to yourself. Mic always credits artists! There’s no way that he would just list the track names like that.

Then it dawned on you.

“Did you… make this, Hizashi?” you asked, a small gape of your mouth before a smile tugged at your lips in its place.

A quite nod and a nervous laugh.

“Totally original music from your favorite DJ Present Mic!!” he blurted out nervously. He scratched invisible records in the air but you could see how flustered he was getting. “Yeah, I hope you don’t mind. I, uh, put together some songs I had been working on - some are more polished than others. But I wanted to give you something, honey!”

Before he could finish, your arms were wrapped around the tall man and kisses were planted on his jawline. Mic let out a startled noise but soon found himself hugging you just as tightly in return.

“You made me an album for White Day? What are we, in high school, Hizashi?” you teased.

“H-hey, watch yer mouth!” he whined but couldn’t fuss too much with the way that you were holding onto him.

Hizashi dipped his head so that his cheek rested against the crown of your head. He exhaled and just lost himself in you. In this crazy world of him rushing around every which way, you were the only thing that would make him stop in his tracks. You were his world.

You two stood there in a tender embrace while you read through the tracklist. All the titles were sappy but you didn’t care. It made you feel special. Hizashi hardly put out his own music anymore since he was so busy juggling three jobs and now you held the rarity of an actual album from him. You’d have to get the album art framed or something. This was too special!

You pulled him down onto the soft cushions of your couch so that you were curled up snugly onto his chest. The warmth that he radiated almost made you want to sleep except for the fact that he was making your heart race too damn much. He could feel it against him now and brought his fingerless gloved hand to your cheek, gently rubbing circles with his thumb into the smooth skin there.

“So, do I get your fancy autograph with it or is that a premium package?”

“Baby, you can get my autograph anytime! I knew my Favorite Listener was a numbah one super fan.” Hizashi gave you his signature grin. You rolled your eyes and tweaked his mustache gingerly. He let out a play yelp of surprise before his arms ensnared you in a hug.

“You know I’m gonna be listenin’ to this everytime we’re at home now, right?”

“A-ah, don’t be so embarassing, sugar! You can admire my talent by yourself sometimes-”

“Oh?” You perked up, giving him a sultry look. Hizashi froze, sucking in his breath immediately. That look always got him. “You’re embarrassed, Zashi? That’s a new one! I didn’t think such an egotistical hero could ever be so shy.”

“Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything,” he pouted, crossing his arms like an impudent child.

Your lips pushed against his so that he could stop his sulking. Hizashi gave you a small grin before kissing you back, his fingers reaching down to lace with yours. He held you firmly against his chest, like he wasn’t going to let you go. You two lay on the couch in precious moments of silence. That was how you knew he was comfortable.

“I know that this is repayment for Valentine’s Day, but all I got you last time were some new headphones. This is much more from the heart than my gift was.”

He opened an eye to look down at you.

“Hm?”

“I think I owe you another present, Zashi. Something sweet for that special gift.”

Your hand slid down his stomach to linger there until he got the hint.

His eyes widened and his jaw went slack. He stared at you in utter bewilderment. Oh, what you did to tease him!

Hizashi knew his dick was definitely getting sucked tonight.

#Works of Oz #Boku No Hero Academia #My Hero Academia #Present Mic #Yamada Hizashi

[cosmic-spoons]

Lake Brightfall

Okay so this is an odd little fanfic I did as a request on Ao3 but I like it enough to give it a 50 Shades treatment and turn it into it’s own thing. Or...tried to, anyway. Mainly posting this for @aelia-likes-monsters because she deserves more kelpies in her life. (Don’t we all?) Maybe I’ll do more of these, idk.

Characters: M/M, Human x Kelpie

Tags: Light gore, maybe? There’s a severed hand involved but it’s not graphic. Also: puns. Bad ones.

Word count: 4,857

This was it. This was the place where it happened, Marcus was sure of it. Lake Brightfall was exactly how he remembered, from the jagged outline of the rocky shore to the way the gentle wind fanned his face and tousled his hair. He'd run along this exact pier in his nightmares so many times that he felt like he could count the planks from memory. The murky water below was crowded in blooming lily pads, unnervingly similar to the last time Marcus stood here, back when he was still a naive child. That was the last day he had both of his hands.

Marcus didn't remember much about that day. The traumatic experience had since been mostly repressed by his adolescent mind, and not even rigorous therapy could piece together exactly what lead to the loss of his left hand. All he knew was that one moment he was completely fine, just a normal kid who was excited to go to the lake near his home to show off his rock-skipping skills to his baby brother, and the next, he was waking up in the hospital as an amputee.

Nobody else saw what happened. Marcus' father looked away for only a few minutes, heard a blood curdling scream, and then found his eldest son struggling to swim back to shore in red-stained water. Three-year-old Noah was the only witness to the attack, but he was too young to understand what was going on, let alone describe what he'd seen. All they could get out of the confused toddler was the word 'horse.'

Clearly a horse wasn't responsible for that kind of carnage, though. The cut had been incredibly clean, as if by a razor sharp knife, prompting a huge investigation in their small town which shook it to its core. The very idea that there was a sicko capable of mutilating a child in broad daylight had the entire community fearful even to this day, as the culprit had never been caught.

It took a whole decade and a half for Marcus to finally summon the courage to visit this place again. He didn't remember the incident, but there was something about the sight of this lake that made his stomach churn and trigger a panic attack, so he spent the better part of his life avoiding it like the plague. Marcus knew he couldn't run forever, though. The older he got, the more nightmares about that pier he had, and the more he burned to know who – or what – that blurry figure reaching out for him from the bloody water really was.

Or maybe it was nothing. His brain could be trying to fill in the gaps with whatever scenario made the most sense in a senseless situation. He wouldn't be surprised if what little he did remember weren't memories at all, just figments of his imagination gone wild over the years, though he could swear those dreams felt so real...the water was so cold...

Unable to stand not knowing if he could trust his own head or not, Marcus finally decided that enough was enough. He was going to get to the bottom of this once and for all! Maybe if he could recover some real memories, his nightmares would stop. Maybe he could even provide valuable clues that would help catch the fiend who was responsible! Or, at the very least, he could conquer his fear of Lake Brightfall and visit his childhood home again without having to take a double dose of anxiety meds first.

It took several attempts, but eventually, Marcus managed to step onto the very pier that was the symbol of his mental torment and follow it all the way to its end. He came alone, which was probably not a wise idea, but this was an incredibly personal journey for him and he needed to be able to take his time. Nothing could distract him from what he was here to do! It was time to end this chapter of his life and finally-

“Greetings!”

Marcus jolted upright from his meditation by a cheerful voice coming from directly in front of him. What the...how did that voice come from in front of him if he was at the edge of the pier?

“Hay, down here!”

The young man brushed some ginger hair out of his face and looked down at the water to see, to his surprise, a face looking back at him. It was a guy floating on the surface around his age, maybe a year or two older, with eyes as deeply blue as the dark water he'd emerged from and bits of reeds stuck in his long dark ponytail. The hair stuck to his bare shoulders like running ink against tanned skin, and the stranger's friendly smile was toothy and oddly sharp. Marcus was too startled by this person's sudden appearance to do more than stutter out a very confused reply. “U-uh...hello?”

The stranger tilted his head curiously. “You look familiar. Have we met?”

Marcus was pretty sure he would have remembered meeting someone like this before. His narrow face looked almost like it'd been chiseled from stone, like a statue one would find in a museum. There weren't a lot of people as striking as him in this small town. “I don't think so, sorry.”

“Hmmm...no, I definitely know you from somewhere,” the stranger pressed, pursing his lips and rubbing his chin as he looked Marcus up and down.

“Did you go to Brightfall High?”

“Neigh,” the stranger shook his head with a light laugh, like the idea was ridiculous to him. “Have you been to this lake before?”

“Not since I was very young.”

“Huh,” the other shrugged, causing ripples to dart away from his toned shoulders. “Oh well.” What Marcus wanted to know was why the heck this person was swimming at this time of year! It was too early in the spring for a dip in the lake to be any kind of refreshing, yet he didn't seem bothered by the frigid temperature. It gave Marcus goosebumps just looking at him. “What are you doing?”

Nosy, wasn't he? “I was trying to meditate. What are you doing?”

“Greeting you,” the stranger answered, that sharp smile easily slipping back on his face as he folded his arms on the pier right in front of Marcus's crossed legs. Marcus nervously scooted back a few inches with his good hand, keeping his prosthetic one concealed in his jacket's pocket. He wasn't ashamed of his disability, of course, but he was well aware of how easily it drew the eye and would rather not have to answer any questions about it right now. “Greetings!”

“...Yes, um, hello.” From the way the stranger was making himself comfortable, it looked like he planned to stay and chat awhile. Marcus usually tried to stay a lot more approachable in normal circumstances, but this was a time and place where he'd much rather be alone. “Did you need anything?”

“No. Why?”

“I'm sorry, but I'm a little busy right now.”

“With what?”

“Meditating,” Marcus said pointedly, hoping he would get the hint. Unfortunately, the stranger's interest didn't seem to wane at all, looking at him like he expected more explanation. “...Which requires peace and few disturbances.”

“Ah.” Finally, he got the hint. “Okay, I'll leave you to it. It was good to meet you!”

He enthusiastically raised his hand towards Marcus, who eyed it warily. It was the right hand, prompting Marcus to offer his left. Except he didn't have one. It would be rude to refuse the handshake, though, and he wasn't sure how to talk his way out of it, so Marcus had no choice but to take the prosthetic out of his pocket, praying that the other wouldn't ask.

Marcus had no such luck, though. The stranger's eyes widened at the sight of the plastic appendage and was quick to grab at it. He completely missed the hand, though, and latched onto Marcus's wrist with his clammy fingers, lifting the sleeve of his jacket to gape at where skin met plastic. The nerve! “Wha – hey, stop that! It's rude to just grab someone's – wait, what are you – stop!”

The velcro strap around Marcus's wrist was yanked off and his prosthetic hand slipped from his arm and bounced off the pier, landing in the water with a plop. Marcus was horrified to watch it disappear below the surface, and then quickly shifted to outrage. He was about to yell at the stranger for his rudeness and pry him off, but the man with a vice-like grip on his arm and an utterly ecstatic look on his face suddenly lifted higher out of the water, leaning in uncomfortably close to Marcus' face.

“It's you! Marcus! I knew I recognized you!” he laughed. “And your brother, Noah, I remember him, too! You both used to play here when you were little!” Marcus was dumbfounded. Apparently he did know this guy from somehow, but he was less concerned about that and more about the invasion of his personal space. “It's me, Horace! Don't you remember me?”

Marcus wanted to be properly angry at the loss of his property, but those thoughts left him right as the air was suddenly robbed from his lungs at the sound of that name. It triggered something deep in his mind, like a faraway ringing bell in the dead of night.

Horace.

Horace...

Horse.

A feeling of intense dread overcame Marcus just then. The hairs on his arms raised with goosebumps as flashes of memory exploded in his head, glimpses of sensations and sounds straight out of his nightmares. Something round and smooth, a splash, a scream, a voice, the color blue, bright red, cold, pain, pain, paIN, PAIN-

“Marcus?” The man, Horace, tugged on his arm when Marcus's breath started coming quick and shallow. His smile gave way to too-innocent concern. “Are you alright?”

No. No, Marcus was not alright.

“Stay back!” he demanded and yanked himself away from the man, struggling to get to his feet on shaky legs. The blinding fear gripping his chest was indescribable, so much more consuming than it ever had been before, and he desperately staved off hyperventilating until he could flee as far from this place as possible. “G-get away from me!”

“Wait! Why are you running? What's wrong?” Horace called after him, swimming along the side of the pier to give chase. The way he swiftly glided through the water, parting the lily pads in his wake, was noticeably unnatural.

Marcus didn't say anything else to the stranger named Horace. He sprinted across the pier to the beach, half convinced that this was all just another one of his reoccurring nightmares, ran all the way up the hill to the parking lot, and scrambled into his car the moment he reached it. Horace didn't leave the water to follow, thank goodness, so Marcus locked himself in to collapse in his seat and cradle his throbbing phantom limb as he gasped for air.

He didn't know what just happened, but he knew two things for sure: Horace had something to do with why his hand was gone, and he was never coming back to Lake Brightfall ever again.

Marcus went back to Lake Brightfall a few days later.

It turns out there was only one thing that scared him more than crippling childhood trauma: the price of a new prosthetic. They weren't cheap! Marcus was already paying off enough loans from college and he'd like to be debt-free sometime this century. That being said, it's not like returning to the lake was an easy feat. Noah had to drive him there or Marcus would keep 'accidentally' missing the turn-off, which spoke leagues to how much Marcus didn't want to do this, seeing how he usually refused to let his little brother drive him anywhere while he still only had a permit.

Marcus spent the entire time trying to convince himself that everything would be fine. He wasn't alone this time and that man probably wouldn't be there so early in the morning. The bright colors of dawn were a minor distraction from the nerves that were making his foot tap like a jackhammer and pale fingers pry at the hem of his jacket.

He didn't tell Noah about Horace yet. For some reason he could hardly even think about the man without triggering another awful episode, so he opted to deal with that in therapy later and first focus on getting his hand back. His nightmares had been getting worse ever since that surreal encounter and he was starting to think that maybe he shouldn't have tried uncovering his missing memories at all. Perhaps his brain had a good reason to repress them.

“Alright, we're here,” Noah said as he parked the car on the hill overlooking the lake, his voice softer than usual. For once he was actually being considerate towards his brother on this touchy subject and refrained from ragging on him for his irrational fear. Marcus really must have been a mess. The lake stretched out wide in front of the elder brother's eyes, like a giant looking down on an ant, and he took a deep steadying breath and readied himself to leave the car.

The air was chilly and strangely still as they walked along the path towards the pier. It was so unassuming this way, surrounded by lily pads and reflecting the colorful sky on its calm surface. If Marcus weren't so terrified of this place, then he would have thought it was a scene worthy of a calendar. He stopped in his tracks as the two approached the wooden posts that anchored the old pier to the shore, but Noah kept going, turning around to throw him a raised eyebrow.

“Hurry up. You didn't drag me out of bed at 6:30am on a Saturday just to stand there, did you?”

Marcus shook his head and swallowed the lump in his throat. Carefully, he stepped onto the pier and watched the water around him for any sign of movement. He couldn't properly explain it, but there was an invisible itch in the back of his head, like the sixth sense of being watched...

“Okay, so where did you drop it?” Noah asked, eyes narrowed at the water, searching for any sign of the plastic hand through the gloom He wasn't looking anywhere near the right place, though.

“Over there,” Marcus answered, pointing to the very end of the dock where the water was significantly deeper, and Noah followed his finger with a groan.

“Are you serious? You dropped it all the way out there?! Shit, I thought it was just going to be in the shallows or something!”

Marcus's throat was too tight to chastise his brother for his for his foul language. “This is why we brought the fishing line...”

“Yeah, but it's gonna be ten times harder to hook it when we can't even see it that far down! Ugh, hold on, I'm gonna see if I can find a big ass stick or something. Maybe if we poke around first we'll find it.”

Noah walked back to shore and Marcus begrudgingly stayed put. He stood in the middle of the path and tried to do some of his meditation exercises while he waited, calming himself as best he could as he stood alone in the one place in the world he would rather not be. The silence was unnerving. It was so quiet that he could hear his own heart beating, which is why when he heard the soft sloshing of water behind him, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Marcus!”

Marcus's thumping heart jumped to his throat as he whirled around to find, to his shock, the same sharp-toothed smile from before climbing out of the water and onto the pier. Why the heck was he still here?! Marcus unwillingly got a much better look at him now, and he discovered that Horace was well over six feet tall as he stood up at his full height, built with a strong swimmer's physique, and bits of uprooted lily pad clung to his shamelessly bare body. What had Marcus letting out a terrified scream, though, was how the man's legs were bent in all the wrong places, ending in a set of hooves.

Hooves.

Oh god, this couldn't be happening! There was no way this was real! It was just a nightmare, Marcus told himself, and he willed himself to wake up with every fiber of his being. He didn't, though, and he jumped when Horace stepped forward, clacking loudly on the wooden deck.

“Don't be scared, it's only me! I'm so glad you came back! I have something for you.”

Horace was holding something out to him in his hands, but Marcus was too busy running in the opposite direction to see what it was. It didn't take him long to reach the end of the pier, though, leaving him trapped between the deceptively calm water and the approaching creature. “No – no, don't come any closer!” Marcus pleaded with short breath. Every ascending clip-clop sent an arrow of panic through his chest, but Horace completely ignored his distress with a perturbing smile.

“But I need to give this back to you! I've been keeping it safe for so long.” Horace motioned to the thing he was holding. “Don't you want it back?”

He was close enough now that Marcus could better see what he was carrying, but Marcus was too freaked out to know what he was looking at. Was that his prosthetic? No...Marcus's prosthetic was much larger than that. This one was small, more like...

...Like a child's hand.

“I always expected you to come back for it, but you never did. Do you know how hard it was for me to get it back? Not to mention how tough it was to keep it in such good condition!” He turned it around, proudly showing the pristine dismembered limb off, not a trace of rot or blood, and Marcus' stomach churned. That was...that was really his hand?! “Lucky for you, my magic is exceptionally strong!” That was Marcus' real long lost hand. “Here, let me put it back on for you! ...Marcus?”

The world was spinning as Marcus's mind reeled at the gruesome sight. A flood of sensations filled his head, making his lungs burn with the need for air he couldn't seem to find. Or maybe that burning was coming from the swirling memories he was reliving, the desperate gasping, the pressure of cold water, the sounds of splashing and screaming, his own screaming, blinding terror, sharp teeth, pain, fading light...

Marcus didn't know he was falling until the chill of water consumed him. Even then, he could barely feel it as his overwhelmed consciousnesses slipped away, and the last thing he was aware of before he fainted was a familiar shadowy figure silhouetted against the surface reaching for him...

For once, Marcus didn't dream. He was drawn from a void of empty darkness by the sound of voices talking far away...wait, no, they were actually nearby, and they were both familiar. One was far more familiar than the other, and it didn't take long to recognize the sarcastic tone as Noah. It took longer to figure out what they were saying.

“...othing? Not even me?”

“Nope.”

“Ah...that explains a lot, actually. I'm not surprised that you don't remember, since you were so young at the time, but I thought for sure Marcus would! No wonder he ran away.”

“That, and you're a naked freak with horse legs.”

“I told you, I'm a kelpie.”

Marcus felt damp and heavy, like his body was made of lead, and it took considerable effort just to open his eyes. When he did, he saw the roof of his own car above him, and he discovered he was in the passenger seat reclining back as far as it would go. The fan of his car's heater droned in the background as he looked around and found his brother sitting beside him in the driver's seat, turned around towards the one he was talking to, who must have been sitting in the backseat. Marcus coughed, his throat feeling like sandpaper, and the sound made the other two stop talking. Noah bent over and tapped on his cheek.

“Fucking finally! Hey, you soggy idiot, are you okay?”

“Uh...I don't...know,” Marcus answered blearily. “What's going on?”

“You fainted,” came the quick reply from the other familiar voice behind him, and when Marcus turned his head, he found that Horace was the one in the backseat behind the driver's side, voice dripping with worry and blue eyes full of guilt. “It's all my fault, I'm so sorry, Marcus! I didn't mean to scare you, I just didn't know that you don't remember the day we met.”

“Huh...?”

“Slow down, Seabiscuit. He's still coming to.”

It took a minute for Marcus to remember what happened right before he fainted. When he did, a sudden rush of adrenaline had him shooting upright in fresh panic. “N-Noah, what on earth is he doing here?!”

“Woah, easy!” Noah grabbed his shoulders when Marcus swayed, a bought of dizziness hitting him from having gotten up way too fast. “Calm down, everything is fine! Horace is the one who dragged your ass out of the lake!”

“He's the one who cut off my hand!!” Marcus cried, pointing an accusing finger at the person – the thing sitting in his backseat with his jacket laying tastefully over its hairy lap. It took a second to realize why everyone had gone still and was staring at him so weirdly. The finger he was using, it was...

It was on his left.

Marcus sucked in a shuddering breath as he drew it back and gingerly inspected his left hand. This wasn't...it was...this had to be a mistake. He was dreaming again, there was no way this was real! But no, the more he flexed his fingers, felt the warmth of his skin, and traced the lines of his palm, the more he couldn't deny how incredibly real it felt.

“Marcus,” Noah said his name carefully, patting his bewildered brother's arm. “Listen to me, Marcus, breathe. In and out. It's okay, you're okay, and yes, this is real. That's actually your hand, apparently.”

Marcus had no words. He didn't know what to say, or even what to think! There were no scars, no marks, it's as if he'd never lost it in the first place. But that's impossible, people don't just grow back their limbs! Especially after more then a decade! Oh god, Marcus was going to faint again.

“Would you allow me to explain?” Horace asked quietly. He was fidgeting where he sat, hooves tapping against each other on the floor and lips drawn into a thin nervous line. “I swear to you, it was all a terrible accident!”

Marcus didn't think he had a choice. After all these years, after everything that happened, all of those nightmares, the episodes, and now this, he was going to go clinically insane if he didn't get some answers right flipping now. He wordlessly nodded, and Horace started from the beginning.

“We met on the day you lost your hand. I saw you on the dock with your brother, and you were trying to show him how to skip stones. I thought it was magic! I really wanted to learn how to do it, too, so I approached you, and you agreed to teach me.”

...

Something round and smooth

...

“You didn't seem to care about what I am. I mean, you were obviously curious and you asked a lot of questions, but you didn't run away or call me a monster.” A smile returned to Horace' face, barely a twitch in the corner of his lips, but it was clear by the warm look on his face that that this memory meant more to him than he was letting on. “You let me play with you and your brother. We were competing to see who could skip stones the furthest, and I picked up the skill pretty fast. You were trying to beat my record when...”

…

A splash

…

“Your rock accidentally hit another kelpie in the lake. Ah, um, that's what I am, by the way,” Horace informed, gesturing to his legs. “The other kelpie was older than me, and he was much bigger, and stronger, too. And angry. He grabbed you by the hand and tried to drown you.”

…

A scream

Blinding terror

Fading light

…

“I tried to get him to let you go, but it was no use! Once a kelpie has you, it's impossible to get away.”

…

A voice

The color blue

'Don't worry, Marcus, I'll save you!'

…

“There's only one thing I could do: I had to take off your hand before you reached the bottom of the lake, or you would be lost forever.”

…

Bright red

Cold

Pain.

…

“...So you...you did it to save me,” Marcus whispered as the pieces finally began to fit together. He still didn't remember all of it, and there was no way to know for sure if what Horace was saying was the truth, but for the first time, everything was beginning to make some sense. A strange sense of calm was settling over him now, like a peace he hadn't known in a very long time.

Horace nodded, beaming at Marcus proudly. “Exactly! I was so scared when the humans took you away. I never knew for sure if you lived, but I never gave up hope, and here you are! I'm so glad you came back, I've been waiting all this time to return your hand back to you!”

The kelpie reached out and touched Marcus' left hand, cupping it in his own, and gave it a small squeeze. Marcus just stared, still trying to digest all of this. It was unbelievable. The hand Horace was holding out to him at the lake had been child sized, but it seemed to have grown to match the right one after Horace...uh...re-attached it? He had no idea how that worked, but this was a mythical creature he was talking to, so anything seemed possible at this point. Magic? He decided not to let himself go down that existential rabbit hole for now and just focus on how entirely grateful he was for this gift, and he looked up at Horace with tears in his eyes.

“Thank you,” was all he could manage to get past the lump in his throat. “Thank you so much, Horace, a-and I'm so sorry I was so scared, I didn't realize...!”

“Don't be,” Horace shook his head with a light laugh. “Admittedly, I was being a bit of an ass.”

His long black tail that matched his hair flicked cheekily at the pun, and it brought a smile to Marcus's lips. There was no way to describe the amount of relief he was feeling, the years and years of uncertainty releasing from him in an instant. All thanks to Horace, who had saved his life twice now. Marcus didn't have the foggiest clue of how he could repay him.

“Uh, so, not to ruin the moment, but...” Noah cleared his throat, which reminded them that Horace was still holding his hand, and he awkwardly let go. “What the piss fucking christ are we going to tell Dad?”

Oh. Right. “Language, Noah. And I'm not sure. This isn't very easily explained, is it?”

“That's the understatement of the century. 'Hey Dad, Marcus got his hand back! A magical horse man who lives in the lake gave it back to him!' He'd probably think Horace is a demon or some shit and try to exorcise him.”

That was sadly an accurate prediction of what their incredibly religious father's reaction would be. He was a priest, after all, and something told Marcus he wouldn't take well to Horace's magical existence. “Perhaps we should tell him it was an angel?” Marcus suggested half-jokingly. Horace's shoulders tensed, his eyes suddenly going wide and cheeks flushing, clearly flustered by the sudden compliment. “I would say it's not entirely inaccurate.”

“O-oh, um...oh my.” The kelpie in the backseat rubbed the back of his neck and looked away bashfully. Marcus smirked. To think he'd been afraid of this guy only minutes ago, and now he was starting to think he was kind of cute like this.

“Oh god,” his little brother rolled his eyes and turned away. “I know he's your knight in literally no armor, but try to keep it in your pants, Marcus.”

“Noah!”

ummmm like comment and subscribe?? idfk thanks for reading though

#how do i tag #kelpie #my writing #monster romance

[safestsephiroth]

FFXIVWrite #5: Vault - Tabatha “Tombclutch”

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

The job was simple.

Amdapor had been empty for a long, long time. The Gridanians tried to keep people out, to be sure. But when had that ever stopped her?

A grey-skinned, grey-haired, grey-eyed miqo'te slipped through the night. The infamous "Tombclutch" grinned - jangling dice in a box in her pocket. A gunblade slung over her back, and a long prybar in one hand.

Pitch black midnight. She slunk through the Black Shroud, undetected among the beasts and the boughs. Until she had reached it - the gates of the lost city.

Overrun with horrendous overgrowth, just as she'd heard. Disgusting fungi in abundance. A makeshift respirator - repurposed Garlean tech - kept the spores out. Kept her breathing fine.

But it was still disgusting.

She closed her eyes, a moment. Tail raising. Pulled the dice - tossed them into her palm.

"Triple fours, huh? Been awhile since I rolled that."

She looked around. She checked her map of the ruins - compared it with what she could see. There was a section of the city circled in red. Her contact, whoever it was, had said there was a vault under what used to be an old temple to Nophica.

Seemed about right. Probably some old White Mage gear in there. It's Amdapor, right? She scratched the back of her neck. Hoping the spores weren't gonna grow into her hair. She'd need to take a bath after this.

Something was wrong.

There was a purple gloom lingering over some of the city. Unnatural. It kept drawing her eyes to it. Why would that be here? She'd seen something like it, before. Among the lights over the Shroud that night not so long ago.

Right before the whole tomb she'd been cracking went to hell.

She shivered. Clenched her prybar tighter. The leather palms of her gloves creaking in the darkness. She thought she heard some kind of howl from deep within the city.

Good thing this vault wasn't too far in, then.

She kept a slow pace. Most of the fungi further in had been cut down recently, it looked like. Remains of stems still glowed. As she continued onward, she saw what she realized was once a bridge shown on her map, next to two half-collapsed buildings.

But now, it was a drop so long she couldn't see the bottom.

A cold wind blew. More of the gloom seemed to surround her. Strange pink-purple lights blinked through the night.

She focused. Put her faith in her own luck. Threw the dice.

Checked.

"Okay."

She pulled the gunblade from her back. Stepped to the building on the left. Glowing etchings on the walls that seemed to become brighter upon her approach.

She tried to ignore them. Pointed the tip of the gunblade, feeling around. A Garlean model, one modified for a bigger bang. She could barely hold the thing aloft. But she didn't really need to for long.

She poked at the floor. Felt around. Closed her eyes again. Found the perfect spot... Pulled the trigger.

The floor began to collapse - and she dove to the right, landing on the remains of a stairwell going down. This must have been some kind of watch tower, sunken low with the burden of time. The rest of the roof fell far, far, until a booming echo rode up the tower.

How tall were these things, back then? This seemed taller than anything she was used to in Ul'dah.

She still couldn't see the bottom. But she could see the stairs, and that was what mattered.

She looked around. Took a strong, silken cable from her pack, attached to a sharp hook of darksteel. She latched the hook over the lip of the wall, latched a rapid-ascent pulley to the cable, and strapped herself to the pulley.

The cable was quite long. She couldn't remember exactly - two hundred fulms? Three hundred? Long enough she didn't expect it would matter. Thusly attached, she looked around one last time.

The hair at the back of her neck raised. Her tail bottle-brushed out.

"I need to get out of here. Once I get this vault, though."

She drew a magitek lightstick, activated it, and jumped into the darkness, using her grip at the cable to slow her descent to a manageable speed. And all the way down, she felt countless eyes gazing upon her. Like falling down in front of an entire theatre audience. Well.

If someone was watching, she wouldn't be the one to disappoint them.

As she went into a controlled fall, the rope started winding and twisting before she could get it back under control, spinning her around. Throwing off her bearings. She clenched her jaw. The words 'this isn't worth it' kept getting shoved back down. She'd dealt with worse. There's nothing the Amdapori could have done that'd be worse than what the Mhachi did with their old crypts, and she hadn't been stopped yet. The Amdapori didn't bind voidsent. But when the cable ran out, she had still not reached the end of the stairwell.

She looked back up. Nothing but an infinite darkness above.

Huh.

"Don't like that." She swung back, forth, and landed on the nearest platform of the stairwell. A nearby doorway went far, far into the darkness still. The area was lit only by the dim, dull red glow of her 'torch.' She had kept it from some ridiculous Little Ladies' Day party, and had it fixed up. One advantage it had over a traditional torch was it wouldn't ignite methane. Or suck up all her oxygen.

It was getting rather dim, though. Much moreso than it was supposed to. She looked back to the rapid-ascent pulley. Unclipped herself from it. Looked up. Looked down the stairwell. Looked down the pathway. Checked her dice.

What "Tabby" Tombclutch had yet to learn was that relying on her 'luck' had an unintended side effect: this act was not natural. It was, in fact, quite magical in nature.

And many are the beings who are drawn to such a magic.

She headed into the pathway, Gunblade slung across her back, torch in her left hand, prybar in her right. Slow steps - something was wrong, here. But what?

She stopped, just in time, her foot hovering an ilm above the pressure plate. She hopped back, one-footed, and 'fell' back several steps. Looked around. A recess in the wall.

She would be below the city by now, right? And the way she fell - well, she had spun around as she fell, but. She was pretty sure this way would be the right direction. The other side of this wall, right? She checked her compass.

It refused to stop spinning. Pointing down the path - then to her right. Then behind her. Then her left. Slowly circling her.

"Nah. Fuck this."

She turned back to the stairwell. This was far too much. Not even her compass was working? Whatever magic this was, she didn't want any part of it.

And as she turned, she just managed to catch the sight of the last of the rope falling - along with the grappling hook.

She lunged with her prybar, catching the end of the grappling hook - the sudden weight throwing her off-balance - she twisted the bar, let the hook and rope fall, and righted herself before she followed.

From far above, an echoing cackle.

She turned on her heel. Back to the alcove. Pointed the gunblade:

BLAM.

The wall crumbled, revealing a small room, leading to another hallway. Everything here was much cleaner. It had to have been sealed. The torch was brighter, in here.

Some sort of faint-glowing sigil on the wall, in a green ink. She had no idea what it was, but looking at it, she felt calmer. Warmer.

"Focus." She snapped out of it. Rubbed her hands together, peering around. "Whatever that is, it's not more important than getting out of here. Come on, Tombclutch, you've got this."

She tapped the floor ahead of her as she went, now, with the prybar - the hallway led to a wooden door. As she approached, she felt some sort of unnatural pressure. Almost like a strong wind, trying to force her back. But it was here, the trap hallway, or back up the stairs to fight whatever had taken out her quick escape route. What choice was that?

She reached the door, coat whipping behind her, and jammed the prybar into the hinge. HAULED back - a crack, a give, and the door swung open. The pressure immediately stopped.

"Why would they build it like this?" As she looked through this new room, her blood turned to ice.

The walls - the walls had been blended together. Impossible combinations - unknowable geometries. As if they connected dimensions. As if this building had been built inside its own space. Her brain filled with countless futile explanations for the patterns in the brick. How they seemed to be flat, yet coming out; how walls seemed to be both parallel to her and diagonal to her at the same time. How it all seemed to shift wherever she looked away.

"This is bad."

"It is."

Tabby jumped almost out of her skin, and swung the prybar behind her. The raspy voice that had spoke was connected to nothing at all.

"You know not what you have found, child."

"Yeah, I'm here to steal - to liberate some old White Mage gear, I think. So whoever you are, if you wanted to, you know, point me at it. That'd be really awesome of you."

"There is nothing here but Death for one such as you."

"No like, I have a map and everything. There's a vault."

Echoing laughter. Laughter that twisted the ears - that seemed to end before it started. That shifted all around her.

"Please stop that."

"Is the vault worth dying within? You may escape, or you may learn its contents. But you cannot do both."

"Well." She threw the dice in her hand.

"You draw them nearer with each time you do that, child."

"The dice say 'leave'. I wanna leave. Who's 'them'?"

"They who hunt eternal."

"Okay I'm getting really sick of this fable myth faerie tale shit, can you just tell me how to get out of here?"

"Attune to the green-glowing glyph, and you may teleport away. But be careful. You never know what will come back with you."

"I really do not like that. Are you in my head or something? Is that why the walls are so fucking weird here?"

"I am not what you should worry about."

She sighed. Threw the bar over her shoulder. Tapped her foot. "Right. Well. I don't really want to teleport this far down. Or at all, if I can help it. It's so draining. But I guess since I don't have much other choice. I don't exactly wanna try my luck with... whatever the hells this is."

"That would be wise."

"Right. See you later, then, I guess? Or. Hopefully not, honestly."

"Fare well. Pray it is not too late."

She made her way back to the room. The green glyph was still there - she could see its glow. She started to sigh in relief - DUCK! she dropped down as a sword as tall as she was carved through the air where her neck had been.

Some form of possessed suit of armor stomped into view from right. The sigil to the left. An incomprehensible roar - though she understood the intent well enough:

Rage.

She felt the world around her. Eyes widening - the threads of probability appearing in her mind's eye. Dodge left towards the glyph? No, she wouldn't have time to attune. She had to deal with this damned suit of armor. Dullyhand? Was that what they were called? She should have paid more attention in that class.

"It would be so great if you would go away, now."

SCHWING. Metal clacked against stone. She inched back - then leaped forwards. Slamming the prybar through the thing's empty helmet - hooking in - flinging it into the hallway she had come from. She yanked the gunblade off, two-handed slammed it into the hallway's roof, and before the Dullyhand could turn around, she had collapsed the hallway between them.

She wasted no more time - ran to the glyph. Held out her hand. Focused.

Connected.

She began incanting, channeling aether through her body, eyes closing...

And just before entering the aetherial void, she saw a flash of something purple - and black - and pale. Smiling at her with a face that wasn't quite Spoken.

* * * * *

She was doubled over, at Camp Tranquil. Violently vomiting. Feeling like her guts were about to burst open. The guards were alarmed, but she said nothing - save that she wished to hire a chocobo porter immediately.

The ride to Ul'dah was going to suck. She was going to be out of it for days, after that. And she had wasted all that money for nothing.

But to her surprise, when she returned, there was a package waiting for her.

All the money she had been promised.

"Huh." She coughed. "I wonder if they just had that much faith in me. I should try to get this back to them."

And yet, for some reason, the contact she had been given the job through was convinced she had never gone out on any job at all.

#ffxivwrite2019 #tabatha tombclutch #amdapor #vault #ffxiv

[rldleys]

title: elevator malfunction pt two word count: 1.2k

part one

peter had rushed from the tower as quickly as possible after being saved from the elevator. he wasn't in the mood for his joy to be stepped on and crushed because his fellow avengers found his happiness funny to toy with.

the boy hadn't returned to the tower until the next afternoon, the dreary sunday lighting up as y/n bounded from the stairwell, a full smile plastered across her face.

he hadn't been expecting her arrival that day. as excited as peter was to see her and possibly continue what they had started the day before, his heart ached for the trauma she had to of still been dealing with.

"hey." she greeted, collecting an apple from the refrigerator, looking up at peter who slouched over a bowl of lucky charms.

"you doing alright?" he had placed his spoon down, crossing his arms over his legs to give her his full attention.

y/n shrugged, unsure herself whether or not she was okay. "more or less." she simply stated, leaning against the counter and watching his eyes follow the green marshmallow that swam through the milk closely.

they sat in a comfortable silence for quite awhile, before the quiet atmosphere was broken by two arguing avengers who burst through the doors.

sam and bucky stopped dead in their tracks, eyes falling upon y/n and peter, as if to ask if it was okay they came in. y/n took a seat, the two men cautiously entering the room and lowering their voices but left the two teens in earshot of their debate on whether or not fruity pebbles or fruit loops are better.

"jesus you could cut the sexual tension in here with a knife." sam finally let out, causing a blush to swipe across y/n's nose.

peter looked flustered, he searched for a good comeback or at least words for that matter but seemed to be speechless. something the usually talkative boy wasn't to fond of.

"so everyone knows now?" y/n muttered, her tone a bit frustrated, much to peters dismay,

bucky nodded with a smirk. "yep and i would steer clear of you know who, he's not to happy with two of his most powerful hero's having a relationship." bucky jabbed a finger over his shoulder.

"a relationship?" y/n asked, baffled. "that is not what this is."

peter was glad she didn't glance his way, he frowned at her words and felt his heart drop. he had hoped she would possibly be interested in him more than ever after this.

"yea buck, where would you ever get an idea like that?" peter played, placing his bowl in the sink and sending the three off as he headed for the gym.

tony was already sitting in the small folding chair in the center of the room, his arms crossed and glare fixed on peter.

"look who finally had the nerve to show." mr. stark stood, pointing towards the large empty space where he was planning on having peter practice his flips.

peter smiled down at his feet, fixing his web slingers. he flipped off the platform he currently stood upon, landing perfectly on the table opposite of him.

"so," stark began, setting up a more difficult hologram display for peter to dodge. "you and y/n huh?" peter could tell from his tone he didn't know what to feel. he seemed off, but his voice seemed to take on a monotone sound.

"n-not really."

"then what was-"

"i don't know, i kissed her, i guess i thought that would open a window for me... it didn't." peter confessed, he somersaulted under a transparent shield, resembling caps, hopping upward after the holograms had dissolved around him.

tony nodded, tapping his index finger on a table as if to signal he was plotting something. "listen kid, although i don't completely care for having a mini troy bolton and gabriela montez running around, i think you should go for it."

peter's head shot upward, he wasn't expecting the lecture to veer that way. "so you think i should ask her out, or maybe i could-"

"that's not what i meant, i'm not interested in being your wing man, what i am saying is that you should do whatever you really want to do... unless that's touch my things, in that case, you're fired."

peter nodded, "thanks mr. stark!" he shouted as he ran through the door in hopes to catch y/n before her own training session.

y/n sat on the sofa, her mind sorting through everything that had happened in the past few hours. she hadn't slept the night prior, and currently was exhausted.

wanda had taken notice to the girl's eyes constantly fluttering shut, she had taken a seat across from y/n, a small smile playing on her lips.

the two girls had become quite close since stark had recruited y/n. they both were lab experiments, mutants you could say. they weren't new to having deep conversations about their lives with one another, it had become accustom.

"somebody looks on the verge of death." wanda said, y/n's eyes popping open as the words drew closer to her.

"i feel like death."

"you're still frightened or?" she hummed the last word so it faded into the room as an echo.

y/n looked away, embarrassed by the reason she looked so saddened. "i shouldn't have ran away from him, and this morning, i should've said the truth." she let out a sigh, awaiting her friend to put the information together.

"you can't blame yourself, i mean in this case it was your fault, but-"

"wanda!" y/n shouted, her cheeks turning rosy red.

the siberian girl chuckled. "but," she emphasized, "that doesn't mean you can't fix it now."

y/n had to admit, she had made a fair point. but of course she still didn't know what to do. "how?"

"by growing a pair and kissing him."

at that moment the door from the kitchen swung open, peter came running in, breathing heavily. y/n had thought it was almost like a movie, and she took the upon herself to give her the fairy tale she always dreamed of.

"okay so maybe i am kinda, well sort of, no i most definitely am in love with you. and yea maybe that sounds insane, even saying this now makes me think i've gone crazy, but i can say that i love you, i really do love you. i hope maybe you feel the same way because if not then-"

y/n cut off his ramble by placing her lips against his. the boy immediately stopped his confession, pressing into her more and more until they both needed to come up for air.

"dammit!" sam grunted, shoving a fifty dollar bill in wanda's face who smiled gleefully.

"i told you never to bet against my girl." she winked at y/n who couldn't help but laugh at the idea of them placing bets on her relationship.

bucky walked in the room, catching sight of the cash in the mutant girl's hand. "finally, i wondered how much longer this was going to go on, it was starting to get frustrating."

peter turned back to her, his lips formed a smile, "so this time it is for real?"

"you bet your ass parker." she smirked, connecting her forehead with his.

sam sighed heavily, rolling his eyes at the two teens. "okay this was fun while it lasted, but for the love of god, enough with the pda!"

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker imagine #peter parker imagines #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman imagine #spiderman imagines #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfiction #infinity war

[sunevial]

The Strings that Bind Us Together: A Moment’s Reprieve

Introducing something that’s been in the works for awhile: a sequel to the Followers (aka, the fanfic I’ve written based on @internetremix‘s Discord Murder Party games, master post here!)! This series is a little more slice of life than the previous one...at least for the moment anyways :3 Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this first chapter!

“Are you absolutely sure the Captain didn’t just kill him and dump his body here for us to have a little fun with? I mean, he hasn’t moved since she dropped him off, and that was almost ten hours ago.” Cheerful, the excitement in her voice almost making the scene seem normal. A small slap echoed through his ear drums, one that he felt he should be able to name but could not conjure up through the fog.

“No no no no no, he’s still breathing. l checked a couple of minutes ago and I’m pretty sure he’s not completely dead. Then again, I’m not a doctor. I unalive things not…re-alive things.” Familiar, the voice of the woman with round glasses and chestnut hair he so quickly bought a ticket for. There was a small crack: the settling of…wooden furniture?

“The kid’s been through literal hell and back, let him rest a little. He’s just sleeping off the transformation.” Relaxed, yet powerful, belonging to a man who knew how to command without using force. A cough, some light shuffling of clothes against bodies, the crunch of teeth. Impossible to discern just how many people were there, but he could guess it was more than three.

“Oh no, he’s been awake for the past, oh, five minutes just listening to us talk. I’m pretty sure that he doesn’t want to be sprawled out on the couch half unconscious, but the magic She uses makes muscles…well, you know, experience rigor mortis. So my guess is that he literally cannot move.” Inquisitive, his words intelligent and terrifyingly precise. A few sharp clanks and rattles bounced around his skull, easily identifiable as two glasses clinking off of each other.

“Rigor mortis, huh? Would’ve been nice to know a few hours ago, but hey, better late than never. But that’s a pretty easy fix.” Simultaneously sarcastic and sincere, as if two identities were at war in her words. There was a creek as something scraped against the floorboards, followed by muffled footsteps and some indiscernible chatter.

Trying to sense what was going on through the noise, a shadow fell over his already darkened vision. He felt a warm hand tilt his head back, the clanging of metal bracelets against one another. Something cold pressed up against his lips and he nearly gagged as something bitter ran across his tongue and down his throat. A weight he had forgotten was there lifted from his chest, cold air rushing into his lungs that could now fully expand. His whole body shuddered. Legs were burning in the pits of hell, arms were being used as a pincushion, head was being hit over and over again by a mallet; he tried to scream but his vocal cords didn’t seem to want to work. But he could move, if you could call violently thrashing in agony movement.

Through the unbearable haze, he just made out a single drop of something pleasantly sweet touch the tip of his tongue. Just as quickly as he had been engulfed in an unending sea of pain, it vanished as if it had never existed at all, his limbs crashing against something soft and velvety. He groaned, turning on his side and fluttering open eyelids with more force than was probably healthy. All that greeted him was a sea of blurred probably humanoid figures.

“Oh right, you probably need these.” A familiar thin piece of wire touched his left hand. He instinctively grabbed them and put the thin frames over his eyes, blinking for a few seconds as everything came into focus. A young woman stood over him with a curious expression dancing in her eyes, her bobbed hair casting an ominous shadow around her cheeks. She smiled warmly. “So, how are you feeling?”

“Well, I’d say like a herd of elephants just flattened me, but that would imply something ran me over. So…I’ll go with I feel like gravity just enacted a personal vendetta against me,” he mumbled, slowly sitting up and holding his head. What…happened just then? There was the soul, then he gave Her his name, and then she started drawing something with string and then…nothing…nothing except darkness, bloodlust, and screams that may or may not have been his as he was consumed by his new name. No longer…well it didn’t matter anymore did it? He was the Young Priest now. And these…these people in the room were his new colleagues. His stomach turned just thinking about it and he sank back down into the cushions.

“Careful there, you were just loaded with enough magic to kill a small bear,” the young woman said, pulling out a crocheted blanket from a nearby basket and draping it over his shoulders. “But hey, you’re conscious and not six feet under, so you must’ve passed the final test with flying colors.”

“I’m tempted to debate you on the conscious part,” he mumbled, spotting four other people in the background. They were sitting at a table set with glasses of colored liquids and small piles of cards, all looking at him with varying degrees of attention and curiosity. He recognized the woman dressed in long flowing clothing and peering at him through spectacles and eyes closed to the world: Old Priestess, oldest of the Followers and the only being in the universe who could actually be considered the Captain’s friend.

“It’s about time you got up, sleepy head,” she said with a large smile. “You’re missing all the fun. And me winning. That’s very important.”

“It’s certainly been one of the better games we’ve had in the past two centuries,” the young man at the head of the table said, shuffling a deck of cards in his hands while orange and green tokens lazily floated around his stark white hair. “Especially because you’re not cheating for once.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I always win fair and square,” Old Priestess said, sipping a steaming mug of what was presumably tea.

“Oh yes, and that five ace play you’re so well known for is completely legal,” he replied with a bemused smirk, dealing out a small stack of cards to only five of the six seats at the table. With a snap of his fingers and a casual hand gesture, the tokens darted away from their suspension and settled in neat little piles next to the glasses, resting with a soft clatter against the wood.

“Are you all…playing poker?” Young Priest asked, stumbling over his words a little. He involuntarily shivered, his skin trying to decide whether he was stuck in the harshest of midwinter blizzards or the height of summer in the driest of deserts.

“Well duh, it’s game night,” a woman said with a snort, downing a large glass of something that reeked so strongly of moonshine that it assailed his nostrils from across the room. She was well muscled, sporting a red tattoo on her exposed arm and eyes that were pitch black where the whites should have been. With a shrug, she drew an arrow from the quiver at her side and pointed it between the dealer and the Old Priestess. “And we’ve already ran as many Uno games as we can before his future seeing funny business makes the games predictable and her illusion mess making makes winning pretty much impossible.”

“And so you immediately switch into poker, shunt me away into the role of the dealer, and never let me play my own hand,” the young man continued with a laugh, spinning a token on his finger. “I simply cannot understand why.”

“I seem to recall a several century winning streak that ended with swords clashing across the common room of a tavern, several choice words aimed at your honor and the honor of whatever creature thought you into this state of being, and the Captain explicitly banning you from ever betting with actual currency for the rest of your unnatural existence,” the last man replied, stretching out large raven wings that seemingly blended into the shadows behind his chair. His hair was swept back out of his face, long as his beard was short.

“Oh, and don’t forget you got bashed over the head with a table leg,” the muscled woman pointed out.

“And burned on your leg with the fire poker,” the woman with bobbed hair piped up.

“That too,” the winged man agreed. He shot a glance over towards where Young Priest was sitting, giving him about the same amount of attention as he was the cards on the table. A light smirk crossed his face, and he turned back to the others gathered around the table. “But if it’s any consolation, there is no mortal or immortal --living, dead, or otherwise-- who can run a table better than you can.”

“And to that, I must agree as well,” the dealer replied. “It’s…well, not exactly fun being stuck as the dealer for all of eternity, but I enjoy watching from the sidelines. It’s fascinating to watch people play card games. Really shows someone’s character…if you know what to look for.”

“Boys, girls, that’s enough chit chat, our newest colleague doesn't want to hear us old farts talking about all that boring stuff that happened the past,” Old Priestess said, picking up her hand and thumbing through the cards. She smiled wickedly and waved him towards the table. “Come on, don’t be shy. Pull up a seat.”

“I…well,” he stammered, fidgeting a little in his seat. “I assumed that I’d be here to, you know…train or be taught magic or…well, not playing cards, I suppose.”

The Old Priestess snickered, the sound dancing out of her mouth like the yelp of a young fox. “Sweetie, we have all the time in the world here.  And we’re all tired out from running across the planet. What’s a game or two or ten?”

Before he could protest, or confess that he wasn’t sure he could physically pull up a seat, the young woman pulled up on his arm and yanked him to his feet with about as much force as someone that small could muster. He shouted a little as he was forced upright. His legs might as well have been made of jelly on a hot summer’s day, but they kept him standing. With shaky steps, and a great deal of help from the young woman, he crossed the room and just about flopped into the wooden chair.

“Hm…unstable leg muscles…didn’t use enough powered newt,” she muttered as she took the seat next to him and picked up the cards. “Sorry about that. But I’m pretty sure you’ll be back to normal in about, oh, an hour or so.”

“Ah, it’s quite alright,” Young Priest said with as much confidence and politeness as he possibly could. “I should be the one thanking you for the potion.” He paused for a second, trying to remember everything he had learned from the years of searching and the old tales whispered in the halls of old wives and suspicious sailors. All of the Followers were fairly unique in talent, so it wasn’t long before he stumbled on an old tale of the greatest potions master in the known realms. “I’m…guessing you’re the Witch?”

“What gave it away?” she giggled, taking a look at her cards and tossing two orange chips into the center. “The potions or the recipe ingredients talk?”

He turned to the young man, remembering the mentionings of him being able to see into the future and a strict ban on card playing games. Combine that with the casual magic he possessed and only one name really came to mind, the name of the chaos entity who could manipulate time and space like a potter shapes clay. “And…I’m betting you’re the Advisor…” he slowly continued.

“Precisely correct,” the young man replied, leaning back in his chair and sipping from a glass of water.

It wasn’t hard to discern the identity of the remaining woman, though the stories of her feats and power were less known. That wasn’t exactly the fault of mortals though, considering so few had met her and lived to tell the tale of the wild woman who spoke with animals and who’s art laid in killing. “Then you must be the Huntress,” he said, nodding toward the woman still brandishing the arrow.

“Oh no, I’m definitely the Witch,” she said with an eye roll and a cursory glance to the cards. She swiped them up in one fell swoop, stared at them for a second, then tossed in three chips. “Me with my giant hunters bow and hip quiver, but thank you for assuming otherwise.”

“Which leaves you as the…Lieutenant,” he finished, the words rolling right off his tongue as he gestured towards the winged individual with a hand. When his brain finally caught up with his actions, he went almost as stiff as he had been just a few minutes prior. This was not just any winged individual; this was the being who could slaughter cities singlehandedly, the one who’s loyalty to their god was unquestioned, the one who was the next in the chain of command. And his leader. “Or, wait, no…the Right Hand?”

“I’ve been called both of those and several more names besides, pick whichever one you like better,” he said with a shrug, picking up his hand and raising an eyebrow. Taking two chips from the pile, he causally rolled them between his fingers before throwing them into the center. “So, you’re the new Young Priest?”

“Er, yes, sir,” said. As if on cue, he quickly snatched up the cards in front of him and looked them over. A pair of fives…not great odds.

The Lieutenant snorted. “Oh please, now you make it sound like I’m in charge or have any semblance of power.”

“But…aren’t you technically our…leader of sorts?”

“And your point being?”

Young Priest could feel his cheeks turning the same color as his hair. “I…uh…alright then…I’ll just…go back to looking at these cards…” As he trailed off, some of his birth accent slipped out and he couldn’t help but wince.

The Lieutenant chuckled a little and glanced over to Old Priestess. “I will say this, I like this one a lot better than the last guy. But you didn’t say anything about him being British.”

“I said he was a good fit, was I wrong?” she asked, tapping the top of her tokens with a long finger nail. Curiously, while everyone else had tossed in orange tokens that shined like fish scales, she was using dull green chips with a tortoise shell pattern along the sides. “And what are countries anyways? Borders change, people move, buildings crumble into ruin as languages and accents die out, and time goes on.” She flicked four chips into the center pile.

Huntress glanced him over from head to toe as she refilled her drink. “Well, you’re a little on the scrawny side, but that’s nothing a few days out in the woods won’t cure,” she said with a smirk, tipping the bottle towards him. “Want anything to drink? Whisky? Beer? Vodka?”

“Um…do you have ginger ale?”

“One of these days I’ll get one of you to be my drinking buddy, mark my words,” she said with a sigh, grabbing a can out of the cooler and sliding it across the table. “But yeah, seems like a good fit. Assuming you don’t try and backstab us like the last one did.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Witch said with a nod of her head, leaning back in her chair and balancing it on the back prongs. “Seems like you’ve got a good head on your shoulders and a good sense of humor. And if Old Priestess is telling the truth, you’ve already got a little magic, so this next part will be a piece of cake.”

“I will say, you’re certainly different than I was expecting you to be…and I am very curious to see what our newest colleague has in store,” Advisor said, shooting him a cursory glance and a raised eyebrow. “Now that being said, are you going to bet or not?”

“I mean…I would…but I’m not exactly sure what I’m betting here…” he slowly replied, turning one of the orange betting chips over. “I’m…guessing souls?”

“I mean, we’re currently using enchanted goldfish, but if you wanna use souls, we can switch over,” the Lieutenant said with a shrug.

“You’re…what?”

“We used to use souls, but then Captain got annoyed with us playing with her meatsacks and messing up their nap time,” the Witch clarified. “But between the koi pond, a little potion stuff from me, and Advisor’s enchantments, it works well enough for casual games.”

“I use turtles because I’m fancy,” Old Priestess chimed in.

Young Priest just slowly set the single chip in the center of the table. “...is it worth for me to question any of this?”

“Nope!” Old Priestess replied, throwing down her hand into middle of the table to reveal a royal flush. “Read ‘em and weep!”

A collective groan erupted from the table as the rest of the Followers tossed their cards with a huff and some very colorful language. With nimble fingers and a victorious cackle, Old Priestess snatched up the pool and started stacking her earnings into neat little piles. There was a sharp clap and the remaining cards floated into a small discard pile, Advisor going back to dealing with the same bemused expression on his face as Huntress cussed out Old Priestess with just about every curse word known to man.

The Young Priest bit back a small smile. Not exactly what he had expected the five most dangerous followers of the Murder God to be like.

But not exactly unwelcome either.

#fanfiction #internet remix #discord murder party #the followers #the strings that bind us together