#another friend said they look like they were in jail when they wore their orange jackets | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saturnsummer · 3 years

Text

i don't mind forever.

AU: When Sol is handed a case, she doesn't realise how big the case gets. Luckily for her, her best friend is here. (AU of lawyers at Hankuk Law Firm.)

notes: all credits go to @thenerdywriter !! she gave me this prompt just days after i joined tumblr, and i’ve been working on and off on it ever since. my first au series, so please go easy on me! i know i’m practically killing myself for doing two series at once, but i’ll deal with it later. as always, big love to everyone! any grammar mistakes and all will be taken fully responsible by me!

ao3 link

words: 4035 words

one.

Sol scrunches her hair in frustration. She twists her long, wavy light brown hair in a bun, fixing it with a jab of her white, long chopstick hairpin. She adjusts her bangs for good measure and resumes with her report. She reaches over to her coffee mug, only to find it empty. Great, it’s the third coffee she had today, and it wasn’t even lunch. Hearing her colleagues nagging on drinking too much coffee in her head, she stands from her desk and pushes the glass door of her office to the staff pantry. Her heels click against the marble floors as she strides across, filling her cup with iced water before retreating back.

It would have been a normal day at the Hankuk Law firm, but it wasn’t when she had such a pressing case.

It's been weeks. A client of hers has pressed charges against Lee Man Ho, claiming that he scammed her life savings. Lee Manho was a convict that was charged for raping multiple women and on several occasions, sexual harassment. He had been on good behaviour after his release for a couple of years, with no complaints and no news. Only now did his name resurface. He was snarky in his speech, manipulative and quick with his tongue, but most of all had a sinister smile that sent shivers.

Sol, being Sol, couldn’t say no to the poor woman. How could she? She experienced her fair share of poverty from growing up in a single-parent family that made enough to get by. She sympathised with her feelings, knowing just how stressed this poor mother must be when she can no longer afford to pay rent for her home, even less so the necessities for her toddler kids. Because, too many times, Sol was found broke and skipping meals so she could have her younger sister, Byeol, be fed instead.

With the help of the local police, she found more victims to be scammed, all similar in their scenario. Manho would call under the alias of a financial aid consultant, sometimes an insurance agent or bank teller. Then, he would extract their bank numbers from them, effectively draining their money away. By the time they victims tried to call back, the number would be out of order, or picked up by another voice, evident that he used another number to cover up his.

None of his victims had anything in common. Some were rich, some were poor. Some were female, some were male. And Manho had long disappeared in the wind the moment he got out of jail. He was said to be sighted once and when the police placed eyes on him, they lost him that same day.

His digital footprint was an utter headache as well. The police had other things to matter, and figuring out his digital footprint was the least of their concerns when they had important murders and urgent matters to solve.

But two could play this game.

Seungjae was a good friend of Sol’s. They were close acquaintances in school and kept in close contact. He, unlike Sol, was a whiz with computer codes and had his fair share of hacking experience. She remembers how he would hack into the system during school events and broadcast short music videos on the school televisions during breaks. Despite their age gap, he was always courteous, nice and kind hearted in helping others.

Seungjae eventually found a job with the police force, using his skills to legally hack criminal networks and dark nets. He was essentially part of a task force that identified suspicious activities like mass radicalisation, fake news and essentially tracking down internet hackers. It was a no-brainer that Sol would approach him, even though she knew that he could only legally hack under his work orders, not for personal favours.

Well it’s best she at least try.

She called Seungjae, who was fortunately free, and agreed to meet at a cafe. The sun was out, warming them from the autumn breeze that chilled them. Sol grabbed her coat and placed a post-it on her door, informing her colleagues of her business. Sol, while dressed in a warm coat, was undoubtedly freezing from the breeze. If only she could go back to law school, where she wore jeans and sweatshirts all day. Instead, she had a light blue long sleeved blouse, a knee length pencil skirt and a midnight blue blazer, and her only coat she had weakly shielding her from the cold.

“Sol A, what gives me the feeling that you aren’t calling for the purpose of catching up, but for a favour?” Seungjae asks as soon as his ice coffee arrives. Sol is amused at his habit, that he still calls her Sol A to differentiate her from Sol B, her colleague just working next door to her. But in response, she gives a small frown.

“Oppa, please? You have to help me with this. This case is driving me nuts!” She says in frustration as she stirs her ice tea. “Look, he’s off the grid, like properly off. I can’t even track his number or his email accounts. When the police placed plainclothes on him, he was like a ninja and they lost him within the first hour.”

Seungjae’s frown deepens. He knows of people who are good on the internet, but for an ex-convict to be running this alone? Furthermore, a convict who had no criminal record of scamming, conning and IT based crimes? There was definitely more to this.

“Sol A, do you think that he’s working alone?” Seungjae asks, stopping Sol in her speech. She tilts her head, the way she does normally when she puts the puzzle pieces in order. From her bag, she takes out a notebook and scribbles down the facts, then pushes it to the centre of the table.

“Okay, so we know that Lee Manho was convicted of rape and sexual harassment long time ago. Now, he’s running scams, and has no known background of coding or conning people, yet somehow the money appears in his bank account and it disappears the next moment.” Sol states as she circles her notes with a pencil and Seungjae nods.

“I think… I think you’re right, oppa. He’s definitely not working alone. And he could just be the middleman bringing the cash from one place to another.” Sol breaths out, realising how big the case has gotten. She’s not just going after Lee Manho, but she’s going after an entire team.

“You said that you can’t track his whereabouts, people he communicates with and where the money is going to?” SeungJae asks. Sol nods.

“Looks like someone is covering up the transfers and his tracks.” Seungjae concludes. Seungjae furrows his eyebrows. Sol recognises his thinking face and tries to plea once more.

“Please, oppa? You helped me check out and verify Yeseul’s boyfriend, which saved her life! Please, oppa…” Sol pleads with him. Seungjae knew how much Sol was going to dedicate to this, and besides, he was legally going to hack. He was fighting for those who couldn’t fight. What difference would it make? It felt wrong to ignore such a desperate plea.

“Fine. But you have to let me use a laptop that isn’t mine. I can’t have my superiors know I’m hacking into a case that wasn’t submitted to me again. God, Yeseul’s ex-boyfriend case got me a bloody earful from the captain.” He finally agrees, getting up from his seat and grabbing his coat. Sol lets out a relieved sigh and picks her coat too.

“Thank you, thank you!”

“Save it for later, when I’m done hacking. Let’s head back to your office for now.” He says and walks to the door. At that moment, Sol’s phone rings, and she picks up, knowing who will call at this time of the day. If it’s lunch, it has to either be Yeseul or Joon Hwi.

“Are you joining us for lunch, sunbae?” Sol takes a moment to close her eyes in frustration. This man is going to drive her insane.

“Yeah. Are you all ordering?”

“That’s right. Extra pickles?”

“Always. Add one more jjampong and kkampungi, too.” The receiving end goes silent.

“Who’s joining?” Sol gives a knowing smile as she unlocks her car.

“An old friend of ours.”

-----

“Wah, it’s been a long time since Seungjae-hyung could eat with us!” BokGi says, as he passes out the chopsticks and Yebeom unpacks the meals. Seungjae only gives a small smile while helping out with the food.

Despite the cold weather, the odd group of friends found pleasure in eating outdoors as opposed to their office pantry. It was too noisy some days, too quiet on some, and knowing how chaotic the group can get during lunch, it only made sense to have their meals downstairs at some benches. Besides, they could use a break from being stuck in their offices all day and look at trees changing their colours to shades of red, oranges and brown.

“Thank your noona here, for convincing me to come.” He says as he nods his head over to Sol, who is busy unpacking her pickles and noodles. Joon Hwi gives a smile as he stares at the delight on her face when she sees those yellow pickles on a plastic saucer.

“Hyung, what are you here for?” Joon Hwi asks, as he unpacks his noodles.

“This lady here has enlisted my help once again for a case she is working on. But it has to be off the books. Thus, my presence here instead of my cubicle back at my headquarters.” Sol chokes and she quickly takes a sip of her tea.

“Oppa, why do you make me sound so law breaking…” Sol grumbles. Yeseul, sitting next to her only gives a small smile and squeezes her hand.

“Seungjae-oppa did help me bring Yeongchang to jail. So I would consider his work, whether under his boss orders or not, to be lawful.” Yeseul quips quietly. The table grows silent for a moment, knowing how this topic took a mental toll out of them, but Yeseul was hit the hardest.

When Yeseul first started dating Yeongchang, everyone didn’t mind it. Only when Sol witnessed how Yeseul would be frightened to pick up his call and spotting bruises on her arms did she get Seungjae to dig into his personal life. Lo and behold, not only was he abusive, he was seeing two other women and they were treated badly, if not, worse.

Yeseul’s heart broke, this being her first love and the man she envisioned marrying. But with her friends' support, she took it upon herself to press charges on him, for the women he tortured and for herself. Representing herself and the women that he had failed to protect and taken advantage of, it wasn’t easy for her, having been so blind in love and still harbouring feelings.

The group stood by and silently supported. They accompanied her trials, no matter how busy they were. Sol remembers Jiho running from one courtroom to another on one occasion when he had to immediately attend a court hearing for a client he was defending. Sol had Yeseul stay over at her apartment during the entire situation, while Yeseul searched for an apartment nearby after moving out of his house. Even Sol B, who was usually cold, bought her meals and stayed to eat when the girls spent late nights in silence and drinking.

Finally, the judge ruled that Yeongchang was to be charged in jail. For the sexual, mental and physical abuse of these women, including Yeseul. It has been months since then and time can only tell how much she has healed. The rest can only give their silent support and be there for her.

“I didn’t mean to make the mood bad. Come, let’s eat. Also, what is the case about, unnie?” Yeseul quickly breaks into a smile, an attempt to let everyone know she’s okay. Sol gives a brief description of her case to everyone while she slurps her noodles and pickles.

“This is going to be difficult. If you guys are right, you might be dealing with something bigger than just Lee Manho.” Sol B states and Sol gives a nodded reply.

“Please don’t tell Superior Kim or Superior Yang about this. I really need to break this case and Seungjae-oppa is my only way to.” Sol informs her group. They give half hearted murmurs, not wanting to be meddled into Sol’s affairs. Well, all but one.

“Yah, why didn’t you come find me? I have my own contacts in the police as well.” Joon Hwi asks, a slight frown on his face. From anyone else looking, it would have been easy to miss. But for Sol, she knew that he was upset, interpreting his complaints as “Why didn’t you come and tell me about this first?”

“Because, Mr. Second Round Judicial Exam Pass, you have been too busy! Do I really need to remind you to eat every damm moment? You drive me crazy some days!” Sol argues. They launch into a light hearted argument, as the rest of the lunch group watches with equal fervour as they eat their meals.

“Guys, stop arguing, my ears hurt.” Jiho said, his tone in slight annoyance as he dove straight into the kkampungi and tangsuyuk. Sol finally gave up fighting, earning a teasing smirk from Joon Hwi. They continued their noisy meal, chatting and catching up with Seungjae. Seungjae gives them some updates of his pregnant wife and some interesting cases.

After their meal, they separated their trash neatly. The sun now hides away in the clouds, leaving little warmth against the chilly breeze of autumn. Sol brushes her coat and rubs her hands and arms. If only she could afford a better one than this old coat she’s been using since her first year in university.

Joon Hwi notices her trying to warm up against the cold and takes his coat from the chair, layering it on her. He honestly didn’t feel cold, but he knows he has always been the stronger one to resist against the cold. For Sol, it must be freezing.

“Take mine.” He simply says, taking the packs of plastic from Sol. If Sol had a hint of blush, he pretended to not notice.

“Oh, thanks.” She said as she took wipes from her bag and wiped down the mess on the benches and tables. “But I don’t need it. We’re heading back to the office anyway.” She shrugs his coat off and drapes it over her arm, returning it to him. He pushes it to her, and leans in closer to her.

“Help me carry it, so I don’t have to, sunbae.” He teases with a smirk, sending Sol in a fit of frustrated squeaks, chasing him as best as she can in her heels. Sol knows Joon Hwi gets a thing out of his teasing, and sends him annoyed glares as she continues to clear the tables. Jiho manages to sigh and Sol B rolls her eyes as she dumps the trash in the bins.

The group grabs their bags as they head back into the office, where Sol checks Seungjae in as a visitor at the reception. The receptionist hands him a blue lanyard with a visitor pass as Sol leads him to the elevators. Jiho and Bokgi are off to meet clients, and Sol B is headed to court for a hearing. Yeseul stops at another floor to her office with Yebeom, who needs to pick up some reports from a colleague.

Joon Hwi follows Sol to her office with Seungjae, despite his office being upstairs. Sol grabs her personal laptop from her bag, which is separate from her desktop computer and passes it to Seungjae, who takes a seat opposite her and starts programming the computer to begin hacking.

“What, did you just let him use your personal laptop?” Joon Hwi asks in concern as he takes a seat on a spare chair.

“Let him do it. Don’t you have your reports to do?” Sol asks as she turns to her own reports before typing in her findings for the new Lee Manho case. Joon Hwi doesn’t reply, and Sol sends an annoyed glance. He’s not going to leave unless he knows all the information of this case.

“Okay, I got it.” Seungjae says after a series of clicks and turns the screen to show Sol what he has found. Sol leans into a chart of bank transfers.

"From what I can tell, it seems like the money enters his bank account and is transferred to an offshore account. I can't trace where the money goes from there anymore." Seungjae explains as he uses the cursor to show them. "I can't tell who owns the account either. If I could take a guess, it's probably the mastermind of this."

"Wait, look. Lee Manho is getting paid a constant amount every single time before a large sum comes in and leaves." Joon Hwi points. Sol grabs her printed papers as she matches the amounts that her clients have given here. They match exactly to the large sums, but have no relation to the constant amount that he gets every scam.

"He's getting paid to scam? Tch, God, I hate this crook." Sol says through gritted teeth. Joon Hwi sighs and observes the anger rising in Sol. He places a hand on top of her clenched fist for comfort and her fist stops clenching as she sighs in response.

"Sol A, I can't track his location with your laptop. It's not exactly ideal, since it can be tracked back." Seungjae says, eyes darting while continuously typing. Joon Hwi could sense the disappointment in Sol's face, but it can't be helped. It was too dangerous from her location and IP address.

"Oppa, thank you for helping. I owe you one." Sol says as Seungjae scrubs her laptop clean from hacking traces. Seungjae returns her laptop and stands up. "You should go back, oppa. You've been gone too long."

"I'll keep you updated." He says as Sol guides him out of the office. Once she shuts the door, she pulls the hairpin from her hair and crunches her hair in frustration. She has the information on where the money is going, but it's no use when she can't find out where he is. Joon Hwi takes a seat opposite her.

"Don't stress." He says softly, and Sol bites her lip in frustration.

"Don't stress? How can I not? The police aren't giving me any information on him, delaying his location tracking! I can't even find him! How am I supposed to get evidence to charge him, if he can't even appear to show up to court?" Sol angrily spills, her hands flailing. Joon Hwi sighs but grabs a hold of her wrist.

"Don't get swayed by your emotions." Joon Hwi firmly says, sparingly into Sol's anger-filled eyes. She pulls her wrist back, taking a deep breath before gathering her hair up again.

"Fine." She grumbles. "Get out of my office, Prosecutor Han. Don't you have work?" This earns a soft smile from Joon Hwi. As he heads to the door, he turns back before he leaves.

"Don't... Don't do anything stupid or impulsive, you hear me?"

Sol clicks her tongue and gives a half-hearted nod. She turns back to her report and updates her findings and tries to diffuse the thought of asking Seungjae to hack with her laptop to find Man Ho's location.

For Kang Sol A, such thoughts don't leave easily.

-----

"You sure?" Seungjae asks, seated in Sol's car. Sol takes a deep breath in and nods.

It was a few days after Seungjae visited the office. Sol called the police as much as she could, but they always left her on the line or just said "we're working on it." Thus, Sol told Seungjae to meet her at a park, before driving to a random alley and passing him her laptop.

"Yeah, I'll take my chances." She replied. Seungjae sighs and begins typing away.

"You know you're putting yourself at risk?" He asks, eyes never leaving the screen.

"I'll put myself at risk for the justice of my clients." She says firmly. A few minutes pass as Sol stares out of the car and watches the bright moon and the clouds floating by in misty swirls.

"Got it." Sol turns her attention to Seungjae. On the screen is a map and a blinking red dot of Manho’s location. Sol reads the map and puts her car back in drive before turning out of the alley.

"Woah, do you know where you are going?" Seungjae asks, grabbing onto the overhead handle for support and his hand securing the laptop.

"Seungjae-oppa, don't tell anyone about this, okay? Especially not Joon Hwi." Sol ignores his question as she speeds up the car, turning into a drop-off point of a train station.

"Sol A, you're-"

"Sorry, oppa. But I need to find him. I can't sit and wait for the police anymore. I promise you, I'll be safe." Sol says. Seungjae couldn't say no. He knows how stubborn Sol is, how when she decides on something, she will commit to it wholeheartedly.

"If he's armed, you could get yourself in danger." Seungjae exasperatedly sighs. It was too big a risk to see the junior he treats as a little sister put herself at risk.

"I'll be fine. Look, you're on my speed dial. You know that I can handle myself. There's a reason why I took years of self-defence classes." Sol tells him. Seungjae nods his head unwillingly.

"You better call me after you're done." He says as he opens the door and gets out of the car. "Please, please stay safe." Sol nods and gives a small smile.

"Thank you, oppa." Sol drives away immediately, leaving Seungjae to pinch his nose bridge in frustration and concern. Silently, as he boards the train, he prays for Sol's safety.

-----

Sol knows the area well. As she parks her car at a carpark, she checks to make sure Manho is still at the bar. The blinking dot stays stagnant at the bar, not moving ever since she dropped Seungjae off. Getting out, she tightens her coat around her and thanks herself for the long trousers she's wearing. At least she isn't wearing a skirt, if she needs to beat someone up.

Entering the bar, she naturally takes a slow walk around. But hidden by the corner of the bar tables sit a lone man, with a cap, dressed in black button up and holding a glass of golden whiskey. She knew that was her target.

Taking a seat next to him, she orders a glass of soda water from the bartender. Man Ho chuckles next to her as he sets his glass down. Turning his head, he faces Sol with sly eyes, lips curled at the corner.

"Prosecutor Kang, you're quick." She hears him say and a chill goes down her spine. She lets her eyes meet the cold stare of Manho.

"Oh, you think I don't know you? You're the one after me more than the police are for the past weeks." Man Ho sinisterly says, a sick grin on his face. Sol grits her teeth and takes a deep breath to soothe her anger.

"Why are you doing this? You think it's fun?Watching my clients suffer?" Sol says through her gritted teeth. He only scoffs.

"My, my. Don't want you getting agitated now, don't we? We just started." He says, sipping from his glass again.

"Answer my question." She says with force. Man Ho sips on his glass, swirling the golden brown liquid against the large square cubes of ice as he exhales.

As the words fall from his mouth, Sol grows as cold as the glass in her hand. Her hands slightly shake as she hitches her breath. When her shaky eyes turn to Manho’s, his eyes are sly with a mocking grin. No, he can’t know.

"You’re just as feisty as your sister, aren’t you?”

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anaiswriterr · 4 years

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Evil Lives Here

Pairing: Kirishima x Reader

Rating: T

Warning: This story contains the following subjects that may not be suitable for younger audiences or those who don’t like scary things: murder, blood, gore, language, and emotional feelings. Please be aware of you are easily triggered from these kinds of things and enjoy.

Synopsis: You press your hand hard against the cold glass shield that divides the two of you. Burning hot tears swell up in your eyes, you press a picture of a girl, a young girl who was brutally murdered and found in the woods. Clutching onto the jail phone in your separate hand, desperately attempting to catch your breath. You mutter out the words no wife should ever mutter, “Eijirou Kirishima... did you - do this t-to her?” Your voice wavers, eyes stinging to catch his reaction to the crime scene photo. He’s emotionless, “No.” He couldn’t of done this, there is not possible explanation.. he’s innocent. When the love of your life, the father of your two year old daughter, your best friend ends up being a mass serial killer you suddenly realize the man you solemnly swore to love till death was living a double life.

- evil lives here - screamtober series part two -

•

“Do you, Y/N L/N, take Eijirou Kirishima, to be your solemnly wedded husband; through sickness and in health, for poorer or richer till death do you two part?”

The memory swirls in your head, hand in hand with your longtime boyfriend, now husband. Freshly graduated from high school, with barley any money you wore a cheap dress from the nearby thrift store, it was short, tailored just above your knees. The nervous sweat softened your hands against his rough ones.

“Yes.” You said in a soft whisper.

Your hands tighten around the steering wheel, you wipe a tear away from your soft skin. Lightly tapping away the stray tears with a tissue, throwing the crumpled piece away at the dash. “Who are you here to visit?” The operator in the Prison Reform entrance asked tiredly, wiping the sleep off his eyes and taking a sip of his cup of coffee. But you didn’t blame him, neither of you wanted to be there especially this early in the morning.

“Prisoner Eijirou Kirishima, I-I’m his wife.” You duck your head down in shame, after refusing to visit after months and months of healing. You needed to know, at least for yourself. He gives you a quick stare, later pressing a button to open the gateway. You step on the gas and proceed to enter the parking lot.

Your hand bare without the wedding ring you wore for years on end, a marriage he ruined. A family he tore apart with reckless actions and lies, a two faced snake this entire time. Living with a monster, loving a monster. Making love to a seemingly loving, caring man.

You lay your head against the wheel, turning off the ignition.

“Say cheese, Ruby!” You cheer, counting down the seconds for the cameras timer to go off. “Happy birthday, munchkin!” Kirishima exclaims, pressing a small kiss to her forehead. The flashing light just capturing the happiness in that moment with a single polaroid that joined the cases of other polaroid's that you swore you’d organize into a scrapbook one day. Your daughter clapped her hands in excitement, your lips form a small ‘O’ as you and Eijirou help her blow out the candles, an assortment of cheers and whoops come from the audience of her family. Katsuki Bakugou, her godfather and uncle, is invited to take a separate photo with her in his lap. A small smile creeps onto his lips, allowing the soft spot he carried for his niece to envelop him as he held onto her tiny frame. Laughing at her giggles.

The golden days of your youth often involved your days with Eijirou, someone you met in your years of primary school. Though you were bullied by some of the other kids, Eijirou found you in particular interesting and fun. Befriending you in nearly a day, which meant you were befriended by Mina, Sero, Kaminari, and oddly enough Bakugou. Eijirou, was different. The one to walk you home to make sure you made it back safe, to make sure you had food, to give homeless people the extra pocket change he had or buy them a meal, he wasn’t the smartest but the most caring. Never a killer, a serial killer at that.

Psychology states that when a person murders it’s a chemical imbalance in their head, the need for more. The need to keep hunting the prey that walked around at night, alone, wishing to go home to their families. They all say he said the same thing, the survivors, those who instead of accepting the fate of death instead chose to fight for their lives and manage to get away. He said the same thing.

“Suspect number one, may you please come forward and repeat the lines that were just previously mentioned.” An officer orders, standing protectively beside a shaking young girl, probably in her late teens. Her hands cold and clammy, pressed against one another.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you to not get in the car with strangers?”

She’s nods her head no, and the officer asks the next person to move forward. The voices don’t match a single one until, Eijirou Kirishima steps up. How did he get in that suspect line, he didn’t know. I mean sure, his friends teased that he looked awfully alike to the description - but those were just jokes - nobody really took it seriously.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you to not get in the car with strangers?”

A panic arose in the girl, nearly jumping off her feet she points. “That man, his voice, it’s him!” She accuses. Not even a minute later Eijirou is placed in handcuffs and escorted towards a holding cell awaiting trial.

You should’ve just taken the first sign and packed your bags, but they say love can blindside you from the truth. And the truth was Eijirou Kirishima was the serial killer that roamed the dark alleys of Japan, living a two faced life. One where he shared with his wife and a beautiful daughter, and the other, preying on the weak. You huff, rubbing your tired, aching eyes. Eyeing the folder a detective handed to you in hopes you’d get something - anything - out of the liar you called husband. The bland folder sitting on top your passenger seat, mocking you with the content inside. The sudden urge to throw up washes over you, you’ve seen those pictures a million times, it’s practically burned into your memory. But this one, the only picture that sat inside the skinny - nearly empty - folder would haunt nearly anyone. You take one last deep breath, and step outside.

The hot, humid, October weather brushed over your skin as you lean forward to retrieve your purse, keys, and the folder. “Make this quick, Y/N.” You mutter, shutting and locking the car door behind you. If there was one thing that Kirishima taught you, it was that you should always lock your doors, and move quickly. You always thought that he meant it to be something sweet, that he cared about your safety. Instead, it was just something he knew most working and busy woman never really took into consideration. Each step feels like your walking on cracking thin ice, liar.

The fuming burning hot anger.

Wake up! This has to be some sort of dream, some nightmare, the lies. The piling lies and deception, an affair you believed. For months you believed he was having an affair, but instead, you learn the awful truth. An affair you could handle, something fixable. But murder, his daughter is known as the child of a killer. You wish you could hit him, kick him, anything. It dwells on you that maybe you he was always like this.

And yet you were the exception - along with many other of his friends - you stop in the middle of the sidewalk. Clutching onto the folder, you steady your breathing.

***

bzzzzzz

“Visitor for Prisoner Eijirou Kirishima, serial code 0926.” They call him down, chewing on the inside of your cheek you wait patiently behind a call booth. Tear stricken stained face and raging eyes. Your foot taps against the metal tile beneath you, until your breath is caught.

In a bright orange jumpsuit, his hands are handcuffed together and his ankles are chained to him. You duck your head down into you sleeve in shame, in disgust, but him, he had on a huge grin as he laughed off a joke the guard seemed to tell. He holds out his wrists in front of him before being seated and was uncuffed from the tight metal restrains. You watch him slowly reach out for the phone on his end, the grin he wore still as intoxicating as when he was just a teenager.

Psychopaths don’t have much emotion.

Except for the inappropriate emotions at inappropriate times they invoke out into the world.

You don’t immediately reach out for the phone, your mind is wondering off to when the loud banging of the front door woke up your daughter from her sleep after being sick for a week - she hadn’t gotten much sleep and neither did you for the fact of the matter - the loud screams from her room as police officers nearly broke down your door. Red and blue flashing lights dance across the walls of the living room as they peered through the cracks of the window blinds.

You are brought back to the sounds of three taps against the glass. You reach towards the phone hesitantly, the cord following behind as you pressed it to your ear.

“Please! My husbands innocent! He’d never hurt another person!” You cried as he was pushed into a patrol car, your daughter screaming for her father. “Ma’am, this man isn’t who he says he is.”

“Long time no see.. where your ring?” His voices makes you seize in the cool metal chair, his cool and calm demeanor taunts you. “I’m not here to make conversation, Kirishima.” You hiss. He ignores your warning glares and smirks, “It’s been a couple months, and I haven’t seen my daughter Y/N. I just want to see my family, I want to see you-”

“Cut the bullshit, as long as I’m alive you’ll never see Ruby again!”

You huff pushing passed the tears that pooled at the corners of your eyes, he stares into your glossy E/C ones. “Where’s Ruby?”

“Bakugou’s babysitting her.”

“Somebody else is babysitting my kid, what let me guess you guys are hanging out with each other more? I knew you’d eventually sleep with him.”

“Shut the fuck up! I haven’t done anything with him, he’s just being a a father figure Ruby needs not some psychopathic liar.”

He chuckles, “I told you, I didn’t do it.” You slam your hand o the glass in frustration, pressing your hand hard against the cold glass shield that divides the two of you. Burning hot tears swell up in your eyes, you take out the printed imagine in the folder and press a picture of a girl, a young girl who was brutally murdered and found in the woods. Clutching onto the jail phone in your separate hand, desperately attempting to catch your breath. You mutter out the words no wife should ever mutter, “Eijirou Kirishima... did you - do this t-to her?” Your voice wavers, eyes stinging to catch his reaction to the crime scene photo. He’s emotionless, “No.”

“Hey! Do you need a ride?” A man calls from his car, looking at the young girl who’s barley pushing eighteen. She nods, “I’m kinda lost! I just moved here, do you know where I can find the nearest payphone?” A smirk forms on the adults face, he unlocks his passenger side door, he adjusts his baseball cap.

“Hop in.” He pats his passenger seat, the young girl was so desperate to hitch a ride she was willing to jump into any trustworthy looking person she could find; Kirishima was handsome and his face painted trust and caring. But inside those deceiving eyes were a need to kill. They pass by the payphone after a five minuet ride, “Hey, I think you passed the-”

“I know.” He smiles, turning the steering wheel into the direction of the nearby woods.

“What are yo-”

A chuckle escapes him lips, “Didn’t your mother ever tell you to not get in cars with strangers?”

TAGLIST: @pavlovs-titties @explosivefireworks @utopiamiroh @hikaru-mikazuki @strangethingsatthecirclek @myheroesaretired

Next: Aizawa x Reader - Tag You’re It

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blessednereid · 3 years

Text

Love and Monopoly

Milton Greasley x Reader,

Fandom: TVDU/Legacies

Dialogue Prompts: “Try focusing more on your life and less on mine!” and "You make me feel like I'm not good enough."

Fun Take on Angsty Prompts

Warning: Cursing, Drinking, Kissing, Necking, Mentions of food, brief mentions of blood (bunny blood for vamps), Monopoly

A/N: Someone please open my messages and give me a crash course on how to write a makeout scene I can’t do it, OMFH ಥ‿ಥ

Word Count: 2760

You and Milton Greasley had been dating for 5 years.

You met during your shared time together at Salvatore Boarding School. You were a witch who helped MG calm down whenever he went into a ripper mode. You had used spells to lower his bloodlust. You even made the bunny blood that the school had fed vampires taste as close to human blood as you could without triggering a negative response.

After you all graduated, The Super Squad all rented a house in Mystic Falls, and you were all roommates. The house had 5 bedrooms, one for you and MG, one for Lizzie, one for Josie, one for Hope, and one for Kaleb. However, since Josie and Hope began dating, they had moved into the tribrid's room, so now the empty space was more of a game room. There were board games and consoles in the closet, a pool table, and a regular round glass table surrounded by armchairs where you all could sit and play games.

Tonight was your bi-weekly game night, and you all had decided to play monopoly. Though it was a unanimous decision, you knew it could take days to finish. You were all very competitive, and none of you would go down without a fight. This is why, to finish faster, you decided to have a team game of monopoly.

On the day of, everyone had started going shopping for the concessions for the event. Trays of assorted cookies, hors-doeuvres, sandwich platters, as well as multiple different fruit juices were bought and set on a foldable table in the game room.

As you were setting and arranging everything on the table, your wonderful boyfriend came around to help you.

"Don't worry, love, I got it," you chuckled. "I am much capable of setting a party table on my own."

"C'mon, you make me feel like I'm not good enough to do simple things, babe," he laughed with you, though his words triggered something in your brain.

"Oh yeah?" you quipped. "These are some pictures from the last time you set the table for dinner…"

In the photo, the table linen was frowned up, the forks were out of place, some placements didn't even have certain utensils. The plates were pushed to the center, chairs closer to the edge than the food was.

"Oh..." he giggled lifelessly.

"Now you see why you don't use super speed to set up something like that?"

"I mean, I don't think it's the super speed, darling. I was simply being blinded by your beauty that day."

Your laugh thundered in the room. "Go away MG, I'm not letting you win today!"

"Aw dammit! Alright, love, I'll let you get back to your project," he stated before he walked out of the room.

--Meanwhile--

"Jo?"

"Yeah, Hope?"

The Saltzman twin had been brushing her hair in the mirror, getting ready for the game night later.

"You look gorgeous, so stop taking out every strand of your hair with this damn brush," Hope stated before yanking the brush out of the younger girls' hand.

Josie embraced Hope in a warm hug. "Thanks, Hope."

~-~-~

"Alright, everyone. Welcome to 'The Super Squad Bi-Weekly Game Night.' I'm your host, Y/N L/N, and you're watching Disney Channel." All of the friends burst out laughing. "Tough crowd, I see I see. Well, let's move on with the game, shall we?"

"First up introducing, He's the founder, he's the mediator, He is… MILTON GREASLEY!!"

They all clapped and cheered for MG before you moved on.

"Next up, She's the brain, she's the brawn. She is the tribrid, and she's got it going on, Hope Mikaelson!!"

Whoops and cheers echoed throughout the room.

You continued through all of your friends.

"The realistic, the cynic, the man with raps for days… Kaleb Hawkins!!"

"The sweet, the kind, but she can fuck up your mind, Josie Salvatore!!"

"She's sarcastic, totally bombastic, Lizzie Saltzman everybody!!"

"And ME! Could you tell I was trying to sound like those game show hosts everybody? No? Well, I was. Anyways young ones-" You wore a giant grin to emphasize the corniness of what you were saying before continuing.

"Alright, I'm dropping the act. It's too hard, jeez!" They all laughed at your antics. "I hope you guys are laughing with me and not at me."

You explained the rules for the game of teams.

“Here’s the way it goes, each player has the same amount of money they would have in a regular game of monopoly. However, every team only has one token, teams must make agreements on all purchases, trades, and decisions. Teams must take turns rolling the dice, and one team member must always be present at the board.”

“Alright.”

“Sounds easy”

“Let’s play!”

You stared at them dumbfounded. “I memorized and recited all that without stumbling on my words, and all I get is ‘sounds easy’?”

MG stood to comfort you.

“It’s alright, love,” he said, rubbing your shoulders lightly before pulling away. You scoffed.

“Alright then, let’s play. In this hat, I have slips of paper with all of your names, but first, in this bucket are sticks with numbers that will determine the order of selection. Step forward.”

They all stepped forward and grasped the popsicle sticks prior to stepping away from the bucket.

"Who has number 1?"

"Oh, I do!" Lizzie stepped forward and drew a slip of paper from the hat.

"Kaleb"

She and Kaleb sat back down at the table.

"Number 2?"

Hope stepped forward.

"MG"

They also went to go sit down beside Lizzie and Kaleb.

"That leaves me and you, Jo," you stated happily. Jo and yourself had one of the best team duos. In school, you two would be partnered up for projects often. With that experience of communication, you were sure to win.

You joined the rest of your friends at the table. Lizzie and Kaleb named their team, Team Siphon Vamp. Hope and MG had been Team 3 in 2, and you and Josie were the 'Twitches from two different misuses.'

"Alright, before the token selection, I must announce the prize of the game.

"The winners of the game will receive a dish duty pass for the rest of the week." Cheers louder than before erupted in the room.

"Lettuce commence!" The silence in the room was lethally quiet, and you could quite literally hear crickets. "Get it? Because lettuce sounds like let us?"

"It's ok, babe, let's just play," MG said before pulling you down. You grumped before deciding with Josie on the Penguin. Hope and MG had picked the dog, and Lizzie and Kaleb had chosen the dinosaur.

You, acting as the banker, dished out the money to all the players, and you commenced the game.

Lizzie and Kaleb went first. Lizzie rolled the dice, rolled 7, and landed on a chance card, which told her to advance to the nearest railroad, and they bought it. Hope and MG went next.

MG rolled a 5 and landed directly on Team Siphon Vamp's freshly purchased railroad, M100 out of their pocket already.

"Ooooh… MG…. Honey, you're losing money faster than you did when that PS5 came out, babe."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, ok! I'm still gonna kick your ass!"

You were taunting him. "You sure about that, love?"

"Yep!"

"You didn't even try to "kick my ass" last night, darling," you smirked.

Oohs erupted from your friends, and it was evident you knocked his ego down a peg.

At last, it was your team's turn. You and Josie each took one die in your hands and rolled it. You had landed a 6 and a 4, which landed you a visit to jail.

"Look who's losing now! You're literally in jail, babe," Hope teased Josie.

"Oh, whatever. Focus more on your lives-"

"-And less on ours!" your duo quipped.

Lizzie protested to this. "Hey hey hey!! That is my twin! Only I get to finish her sentences!"

You all laughed at this but continued your game.

Almost 15 rounds later, and everyone had a fair standing in the game.

Team Siphon Vamp had had 2 monopolies, on the railroads and on the pink properties.

Hope and MG had 3 already, the dark blue properties, the brown, and utilities. They also had 2 greens cards, the other being in the hands of you and Josie, as well as 1 red card that was being aimed for by you and Josie, who had the other 2 properties.

You guys also had monopolies on the yellow and orange properties. If you got the red card of Kentucky Avenue, you would be unstoppable.

"Baby," you called out.

"Yes, love?"

"I'll give you the other green for the red," you and Josie smiled.

"That's not fair babe, you'll own the corner," he protested.

"But the green is worth more. Please?" you pleaded, giving him puppy dog eyes.

Before he could utter another word, Josie spoke.

"We'll give you M100, and your first landing on any one of our properties will be free of rent."

Hope spoke up. "Sounds good to me!"

"Hell no! You're gonna have to do something way better than that before you fool this genius."

You whined.

"Fine, I'll give you one of my signatures back walks," you leveraged, knowing full well he couldn't resist. "C'mon, baby, I know how much your back has been hurting."

He agreed reluctantly. "Fine, but it better be worth it!"

Team Twitches cheered.

"Wait, what about us! We'll be demolished, you selfish weirdos." This was true. Lizzie and Kaleb were low on cash, they had rushed too fast to place houses, and now they were paying the price.

"Tough luck!" Hope and Josie chorused.

Soon, it had been as you all thought. Kaleb and Lizzie were in debt to Hope and MG. They had landed on Boardwalk Avenue, and it had 3 hotels on it, so they owed them M6000, M6000 they did not have.

Soon, they ended up relinquishing all their properties back to the bank for auction to pay off Hope and MG, gave them the rest of their money, and had to leave the game.

With 2 full monopolies from Lizzie and Kaleb, along with the last green property they needed, they had successfully turned the game around. Now it was Josie and you who were losing.

You all decided at this point to split the teams. Each team dividing both the cash and the monopolies equally, and two more pieces were added to the board, on the same spots as their former teammates, and you resumed.

Josie was soon knocked out due to MG within 5 rounds, and Hope was quick to crumble under your might, two turn-loops after that. They joined Lizzie and Kaleb at the pool table. They were now drinking beers since they no longer needed to be sober.

Soon it was just you and MG left in the game.

MG leaned forward closer to you while you were deciding what to do with your turn.

"You know what you could do, darling?" He whispered provocatively in your ear. "Give in."

You pushed him away. You were not going to lose to MG and his self-righteous ego that night.

"Shut up."

"Give in, baby. I know you want to."

"Shut up, Milton."

"Hey, Hey, Hey!" He yelled. "No need to get hostile!"

You decided you hadn't wanted to place any more houses, well, you couldn't at the moment. You rolled the dice but were in for a bitter-sweet realization.

You had been ready to pay an M100 luxury tax fee before you realized you landed on Boardwalk, one of the monopolies Hope had let MG keep in the split. MG had only since put 2 more hotels on it, and the price was now M10,000

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!"

Soon, your friends rushed over to where you two sat and began cackling, all except Josie, who was still hoping her former teammate would avenge her.

"Babe.."

You began selling your hotels and houses back to the bank, but it still wasn't enough. You sold your properties and gave the rest of your money to MG, but you still owed a few hundred Monopoly dollars.

"Fuck!"

He kissed your cheek, much to your dismay, and happily accepted his victory.

~-~-~

It had been almost 2 weeks, and you were still giving MG the silent treatment. He had been gloating about his win for the entire night, and you were livid.

You knew he didn't deserve it, but you didn't think you deserved to lose either.

You were staring at the ceiling. You had just woken up, and MG wasn't beside you.

You had hated those moments. No matter how mad you were at MG, you hated when you woke up, and he wasn't beside you.

After all, you guys had been through so much, and you were always worried that he would die abruptly and leave you. Even after the threat was over, you still felt this way.

After a few minutes, MG had come into the room, Kaleb at his side. Kaleb looked bored, and his face said all you needed to know... he didn't want to be there.

He was carrying a pot of pink hydrangeas in one hand and a pot of coffee in the other. He placed both on the nightstand beside you, disappearing for a short while, before coming back with a giant fruit bouquet in his hands. He set it on the nightstand as well before exiting the room and closing the door.

MG had carried a platter of all your favorite foods. Eggs, just the way you liked them, pancakes, hash browns, and your favorite flavor of yogurt. He had also gone ahead and made a smoothie bowl with your favorite fruits. Berries and banana chips littered the surface of it.

He placed the platter on the portable desk you had in your room for breakfast and bed and set it down, just above your lap. He then went to the mini-fridge in your room and got all the ingredients he needed to make your coffee just the way you liked it as well as a glass to pour it in.

"I'm sorry for bragging," he apologized. "I know how much you like to win, and it was very insensitive of me." He looked like he wanted to laugh at how ridiculous the reason he was apologizing for was. You turned your eyes away from him and the delicious breakfast he made.

"But baby, I miss you."

He walked over to you. "Please talk to me!"

He started trailing kisses on your forehead, down to your neck, resisting the urge to sink his teeth inside, something you had taught him. He knew exactly how to make you forgive him, and he was using every technique he had learned over the years.

"Please?" He whined, and you could see his pouty eyes without looking.

He sucked on your collarbone for a while and left a dark mark. Then he moved to the sensitive spot under your ear.

You moaned slightly, but he could hear it, even without his vampire hearing.

He pulled away, causing you to frown and whine.

"MG…" you complained. "That's not fair."

"So you're talking to me now?"

You looked away, you had slipped up, but you told yourself that would be the last time.

You simply ignored him and started to eat your breakfast.

He walked back towards you and began nibbling on your ear. You threw your head back in pleasure.

"Look at me, darling."

He reached his nimble fingers out to your face and trapped your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"I said I'm sorry, and I really, really miss my girlfriend. I made you a nice breakfast, and I've let you pick the movie every night since monopoly. What more do you want?"

You moved the tray of food to the side of you and stared at him indignantly.

"I wanted my boyfriend to not be an egotistical asshole. I thought I was dating MG the vampire, not Jed the werewolf."

"I'm sorry... What can I do to make it up to you, love?"

"Let me out of that back walk favor?"

He scrunched up his face in horror. "That was part of our deal."

"Technically, you're not even supposed to be able to make outside game deals in monopoly, so you could let me out if you wanted to."

"Fine."

"Yay! Those hurt. They're so energy draining."

"Can I kiss you?"

"Yes, you can," you smiled.

#milton greasley #legacies #the vampire diaries #the originals #mg x reader #milton greasley x you #mg angst #mg fluff #mg smut #the vampire diaries imagines #the originals imagine

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sheerfreesia007 · 4 years

Text

Halloween Costumes Headcannons **Thirsty**

Mitch - Cop His shock is visible from across the room. He's leaning against the wall as if his sole job was to hold it up and when he sees you walk into the party his posture straightens almost immediately. You smirk to yourself as you greet people you know making your way around the party towards the open bar. You pour yourself a drink in a red solo cup and move to turn around and see if he'd left his spot. But before you could move you felt a body pressed up against your back and smelt Mitch's subtle cologne. "So how much jail time would I get for assaulting a police officer, officer?" He husks out into your ear making you shiver against him. You grinned at his approval of your halloween costume that you had agonized over which one to get, finally choosing on the tight revealing police officer costume. "Minimum 5 years but if you're good we'll let you out early." You purr to him and feel his erection twitch against your ass. "It'd so be worth it. The things I wanna do to you baby girl." He growled out into your ear before nipping at your lobe. "Show me Rapp." You gasp out as you lean back into him resting your head back on his shoulder. "But you just got here." He says softly. "Don't care lets go." You say quickly before grabbing his hand and dragging him out of the party and towards your apartment.

Marcus - Witch He tries his damned hardest to keep his gaze above your shoulders. But fuck is it hard. A witch's costume should not be that revealing. His eyes dart around the office and he can see that most of the other ladies in the office had opted for costumes similar to yours. Sarah was dressed as nurse with too short white dress, Diane was dressed as firefighter with a bright red crop top and suspenders attached to cut off jean shorts, and Leigh was dressed as a zombie with ripped and torn clothing that left nothing to the imagination. But while the other ladies all wore revealing clothing it was only your costume that had seemed to entrance Marcus. Your low cut dress revealed far more skin of your chest than Marcus had ever seen on you and he had seen you go undercover as a prostitute back in your earlier force days. And the hem of the dress was pulled up high to the middle of your thighs before it fell longer in the back revealing more of your shapely legs. Who knew he would find calf muscles attractive. Just then he felt a presence next to him and he turned to face your beaming smile. "Isnt this great?! Everyone's able to let loose for once." You said happily as you stood close to him. Marcus stifled his groan when his eyes fell to the tops of breasts that were on display and framed by pretty purple fabric. You cleared your throat and Marcus' eyes darted to yours to only see the satisfied smirk and dancing eyes of yours. "Like something you see Pike?" You purred softly to him and Marcus gulped watching as you stepped impossibly closer. "I-I don't what you're talking about." He answered quickly. "Shame, I guess I'll have to find another victim to put under my spell." You teased before looking around the room as if searching for a victim. Marcus gripped your elbow firmly in his hand making you look up at him shocked. "Don't you dare." He hissed out and you smirked up at him. "I've put a spell on you." You sung softly to him and you began to slowly and unnoticeably lead him out the room.

Francisco - Dia De Los Muertos “Mi Vida (my life), you look so fucking hot.” he grunted out softly as his hands gripped and bunched up the long black lace skirt of your dress. The material slid slowly up your legs and over your hips to bunch at your waist making you shiver. “Fuck you look so hot.” You gasp loudly as you feel his fingers swipe across your covered core and your body just melts underneath his attention. “You can thank Santiago later, he’s the one who said you’d appreciate this costume more than the other ones I had picked out.” you gasped out as your hands that were painted like bones came up to grip his shoulders. “Fuck that little shit. He knew it’d get me worked up at the party that I would have to do something.” Frankie grunted out as buried his face against the side of your neck trying to be mindful of the paint on your neck. “Mi vida I need to taste you while you’re in this costume. Por favor.” he pleads with you softly as he sinks to his knees in front of you. You gasp softly at the sight of him on his knees for you as your fingers card through his hair, your nails scrape along his scalp and he moans loudly as he buries his face against your cover core. Slipping a hand up the outer side of your leg he moves it to hook over his shoulder and your back leans back to press against the wall. “Fuck Frankie, please don’t tease.” you cry softly to him as your head falls back to thud against the wall. His fingers pull your panties to the side and his tongue flicks out against your folds making you groan loudly. “You’ve got to be quiet mi Vida.” he instructs you. You nod your head quickly and gasp as he once again buries his face in your core. Mewling softly your fingers resume their track through his hair as he works his mouth and tongue against you. Not long after you find yourself gasping for air and clutching at your skirt to keep it away from his face as you tumble over the edge of bliss. Frankie helps you come down from your high slowly and when he stands up he cups your face in his hands and presses a heated kiss to your lips before licking into your mouth. When the two of you go back out to the party Santiago calls out. “Oi! Couldn’t keep your hands off her could ya?” You frown over at him before looking at Frankie and chuckling softly. “What is it mi vida?” he asks and you lean up brushing your thumb against his lips. “You got some black lipstick on you.” you answer with a soft smirk.

Stiles - Inmate “You gonna cuff me officer? I’ve been a bad girl lately.” you husked into Stiles’ ear and felt him stiffen next to you as you leaned into him. He jerked around to look at you as well did Scott who had heard your words. The two of them stared at you in silent shock as they spotted the short tight orange jumpsuit you wore as your costume. Scott’s smirk was devious as he looked at first you and then turned to his best friend. Stiles just stood there with his mouth hanging open as he stared at you. Reaching forward you pressed your index finger to the underside of Stiles’ chin and closed it for him. Smirking sultrily at him you crossed your wrists in front of you and held them out to him. “Well officer?” you questioned. “Fuck me.” Stiles gasped out and his eyes widened before darting up to your face where he saw the wicked grin forming on your face. “That’s the plan Stilinski.” you teased around that wicked grin of yours. Stiles suddenly growled and grabbed the back of your head dragging you forward until his lips slanted across yours. You mewled against his mouth and pressed forward into him gripping onto his biceps for stability. Stiles backed you up against the wall and when you thought your head would connect with the wall his hand was there protecting you. “I’ll uh, I’ll just be over there Stiles.” Scott said quickly as he watched his best friend devouring you up against the wall. When Stiles pulled away he rested his forehead against yours. “I thought you were going to dress up as a cop like me?” he asked softly. You shrugged your shoulders and grinned up at him. “Lydia found this costume for me. Said it’d get a better reaction out of you.” you answered him just as breathless. “Fucking Lydia.” he grunted out as his hands came to grip tightly onto your hips and tugged you forward into him before he pressed you back into the wall. “No fucking Lydia. Fuck me.” you moaned out to him softly and he growled lowly in response. “Remind me to thank her for this.” he said and his finger came up and pulled at the collar of your costume.

Tequila - Cow (he’s bull) You grinned as you looked at yourself in the mirror. This was your last ditch effort to get Tequila to take you seriously when you flirt with him. If this didn’t work you were giving up on the clueless rodeo clown. Leaning forward you shifted the headband with your cow ears so that they sat correctly on your head. Champ had wanted to do a group halloween costume and had suggested Old McDonald’s Farm as the theme. He would of course be old McDonald and the rest of the field agents and Ginger would dress up as various animals and farm hands. You had thought Tequila would’ve chosen a farm hand like Whiskey had but when you had heard him going on and on about being a bull for his costume you had laughed because it was so fitting given his previous career. So you had conspired with Ginger to find you a costume that compliment his and imply you were a couple. Your main goal to clue Tequila in since he hadn’t picked up on any of the hints you had been giving him. When you walked into the bar that Champ had rented out for the Halloween party you grinned as you spotted Ginger dressed up at a horse before your eyes landed on Tequila standing next to her dressed up like a bull. He had done a really good job with finding black clothing but also the horns, and the large noticeable fake nose ring made you grin. Sidling up to him you watched as he turned and silently eyed your costume. You were dressed in a white shirt that you had painted with black large spots, as well as a short white tennis skirt that you had painted with black spots and black kitten heels. You had even fashioned a short white tail to the back of the skirt. “Well don’t you look moo-varlous!” Tequila said with a wide grin. Turning to him you smiled and flicked the fake nose ring and he jerked back slightly. “You’re just bull-tiful.” you teased back and watched as his eyes lit up in delight. He leaned closer to you and you felt your breath catch in your throat. “I know what this is.” he said softly to you and you tilted your head in curiosity. “What is it?” you asked hoping he would finally understand. “You’re trying to steal my title of best costume.” he said as he turned back to the bartender ordering another beer. You hung your head and knew you would have to be more direct with the clueless man. Reaching up you grabbing his chin between your thumb and index finger dragging it to face you. “No, I want to take the bull by the horns and show him how much I wanna be mounted.” you husked out to him before pressing your lips to his. Tequila didn’t move for a good few seconds and you began to feel unsure and as you pulled away he lunged at you nearly toppling the two of you to the ground. “You mean it?” he asked softly when he pulled away. “Of course I do idiot.” you scoffed at him and he pressed his lips to yours again. “Then let’s get outta here.” he begged you. “What about your title?” you teased him and he shook his head. “Don’t matter anymore.” he rushed out and began leading you out of the bar quickly.

Whiskey - Nurse “Well heeelllloooo nurse.” came the soft drawl of the field agent who had been tailing you ever since he almost barrelled into you in the hallway three weeks ago. You rolled your eyes and turned to face him on your bar stool. The little straw in your drink was clasped between your teeth and you silently surveyed him. He wasn’t dressed up in a costume for the halloween party that Statesman was throwing. “Did you wait all night to come here and say that?” you asked incredulously. His grin faltered a little bit and you smirked knowing you had tripped him up yet again. Running over the back of his neck he grimaced softly. “I might have.” he responded sheepishly and you couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. Smiling up at him you watched as his eyes focus on your fingers playing with the fake stethoscope hung around your neck. You watched as his eyes slowly trailed down to the deep v neck of your costume and he gulped silently. “Need me to take your temperature agent?” you asked sultrily and his eyes darted back up to yours. “Or do you have an ailment that needs attending?” you asked with a wicked grin spreading over your lips. “Hmmm, there’s something on me that needs attending honey.” he husked out as he stepped closer to you. Your hand fell from your neck and landed at his hip, your fingers curled into his belt loops and tugged him closer to you with a jerk of your hand. “I can take you back to my place and do a full check.” you suggested sultrily to him and he smirked down at you. “I’d like that very much nurse. Can never be too cautious with your health.” he rasped at you and you shifted upwards pressing your lips to his. You hummed when you tasted the whiskey on his lips before he pressed in closer to you and caged you up against the bar. “Let’s get outta here agent.” you gasped out to him once you pulled away for air.

Isaac - Little Red Riding Hood “Well if it isn’t little Red Riding Hood. What are you doing out and about? Don’t you know the big bad wolf is on the prowl tonight?” Isaac asked with a wicked smirk on his face as he leaned in close to you. You scoffed at him and rolled your eyes as you took a sip of your drink. “You know I’m not dressed like this for your benefit right? It’s only because Scott wanted to do a stupid group costume.” you bit out to the werewolf. You had to admit he looked hot in his fake werewolf costume and it didn’t help that you had always found yourself attracted to him even before the bite. But now that he had been bitten and his new cocky attitude had emerged it had been easy to curb your feelings, slightly. “Oh c’mon red we both know that you dressed up just for me since I’m your rival.” he said into your ear and you tried your hardest to stop the shiver running down your spine. “You mean villain?” you scoffed at him and he grinned at you again. “Now how could I be the villain when I’ll want to do is eat you up?” he asked in a low tone and your eyes darted over to his and saw the heated look of desire in them. “Scarf boy! Lay off Little Red!” came Stiles’ shout from across the room and you felt as if you could kiss the lanky young man for saving you from Isaac. Isaac growled lowly and you watched him shoot a glare at Stiles. “Maybe some other time wolfie.” you said sarcastically and Isaac turned back to you with another grin. “Oh there’ll definitely be another time Little Red.” he said sultrily and you stepped back slightly before he grinned and walked away from you.

Raymond - Mechanic “And what is it you’re supposed to be?” you hear in his raspy British accent. Rolling your eyes as you turn you throw your arms out to your sides to show him your full costume. “Seriously Ray?” you asked on a scoff. His eyebrow quirks up as his eyes dance up and down your body clad in a pair of overalls with a red bandana tied around your hair and a pair of large gloves on your hands while a wrench, or what you think is a wrench sticks out of your pocket. When he doesn’t respond you huff at him and watch the smirk slip onto his face. “I’m a mechanic.” you said discouraged, you wondered if he was just teasing you once again or if he honestly didn’t get your costume. “Oh now I see it. A bit out of your scope of practice though isn’t it?” he asked softly and you furrow your eyebrows at him. “What do you mean? I work for Ros’ garage. I'm literally in that scope of practice.” you said confused and feeling exasperated by his teasing tone. “Well you’re an assistant to the boss of a garage. I’m pretty sure you have no clue what that tool in your pocket actually does.” he teased further as he stepped closer to you still with that insufferable smirk on his face. “Oh and like you do?” you asked huffily as your arms crossed over your chest in aggravation. “I know what that tool does. And better yet I know how to use another tool that you might be interested in.” he rasps out huskily to you and you feel the blush consume your cheeks as desire shoots straight down your spine. Leaning in closer to him you know you’re taking his bait but you can’t help it after so long you’ve wanted to act on these emotions and feelings that had developed ever since you met the Brit. “Hmmm, I might be interested. But that’s a big might.” you respond to him and he grins wolfishly at you making your breath catch in your throat. Feeling a surge of confidence you press your front to his and lean up into his face. “Gonna check under my hood for me huh Ray?” you whisper to him and suddenly his arms are around you caging you against his body and his lips are slanted against your own as he groans into your mouth. Your hands comes up to cup his cheeks and you whimper softly against him. “Jesus Ray! Why don’t you take her home before you give us all a show?!” calls out Mickey and you’re jerking away from Ray gasping for air to only see everyone eyeing you and your counterpart with gleeful expressions on their faces. Ray grabs a hold of your hand and nods his head at Mickey before dragging you from the room hurriedly. Once outside in the hall you press Ray up against the wall and lean up on tiptoe to press another heated chaste kiss to his lips. “You’re right I have no idea how to use the tool in my pocket.” you start to explain and one of your hands trails down from his chest to cup his erection against his pants. “But I do know how to use the one in your pocket.” you pur to him and he groans low in his throat before he’s pulling you out of Mickey’s house and towards his car.

Forrest - Not a costume but a newer dress The air is growing crisp and cool as you walk out of the general store. Autumn was quickly falling over Franklin County and you eagerly await for the leaves to begin changing and falling from the trees. Pulling your shawl further up your shoulders you smile as you pass Mr. Henry as you make your way down to the end of the line of shops. “Well look who we have here Forrest.” comes a familiar call and you look up to spot Howard and Forrest Bondurant stepping out of their car. Smiling kindly to them you stop not far from where Forrest leans against the side of the car watching you. “Hello boys. How are you this morning?” you ask politely. “Doing mighty fine now that we’ve seen you, aren’t we Forrest?” Howard replies teasing you and you shake your head at him. “That’s enough Howard, go get the supplies.” Forrest says gruffly and Howard wiggles his eyebrows at you before leaving to go to the shop. You shake your head at him as he passes you and you turn back to Forrest smiling softly at him. “Don’t let him get to you Forrest, he's only just teasing.” you say kindly before you step off the walkway in front of the shops. You don’t move much closer to him knowing that he’s not one for affection or any type of emotion really. “Is that a new dress?” he asks through a grunt and you feel your eyes widen slightly surprised by his attention to detail about you. You look down at your dress and your hand slides down the front of it smoothing the fabric. “Why yes it is. Thank you for noticing.” you say kindly as a blush spreads over your cheeks. You watch him step a little closer to you and you take in breath and hold it wondering what he would do. “You look nice.” he grunts out and you can’t stop the wide happy smile that spreads over your lips. The blush that had formed over your cheeks grows in intensity at his words and you watch as he falters at your reaction to his words. “Thank you Forrest.” you breathe out softly and take a brave step closer to him resting a hand on his forearm gently. “That’s very kind of you.” you say warmly as your smile turns softer. “Will I see you at the gathering tonight?” you ask boldly and watch as his eyes widen a little. He grumbles softly and tilts his head down to the ground and fiddles with his hat. Smiling down at the ground in front of you you take a step back from him giving him the space he needed. “I’ll be seeing you Forrest.” you say softly before moving along down the road towards where you lived grinning softly to yourself.

#headcannons #mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #francisco catfish morales #francisco catfish morales x reader #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #agent tequila #agent tequila x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey #raymond smith x reader #raymond smith #forrest bondurant #forrest bondurant x reader

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noyashighlight · 3 years

Text

The Villianess who lived

Chapter one

“ And for the crimes of trying to harm another noble not only in public but in the vicinity of the royal family I summon you to death Y/n Villarreal.” The executioner’s voice boomed through the crowd of people gather in town square.

The one accused of the Horrendous crime was nothing more than a young girl, but not just any girl the daughter of Duke Villarreal who had just been beheaded this moment in an attempt to save his beloved daughter. Though she was vain and jealous of the baron's daughter for managing to steal her love the first prince, poisoning tea wasn’t her thing. Speaking of her beloved first prince, Tooru Oikawa was the one who sentenced her to this harsh death. He loved Maryanne Barlowe and not y/n, only being engaged to her for political advantage to be the crowned prince. He watched from his seat a daunting smirk on his face, his hatred for the girl ran deep to the point where the announcement of her death made him chuckle.

Next to him stood his best friend and personal knight Hajime Iwaizumi wearing his usual poker face. Though she was annoying with her unexplained love for the one he served and her cruel attitude towards women, the knight didn’t believe she deserved this punishment.

And on his other side sat Maryanne Barlowe the eighth and youngest child of the Baron, known as the sunflower of high society thanks to her friendly attitude she used to social climb. No one saw her as a threat due to her title, but now she would be the future empress. Soon she would reveal her true self as this was all an act for her, from pretending to be nice and weak to poisoning her own drink at a tea party Y/n hosted.

Y/n’s eyes shook with rage, hatred soared. Everything was taken from her, she was an accused villainess whose only real crime was falling for the wrong man who thought of her as a disposable object. “Any last words Lady Villarreal?” Tooru said standing from his seat, making sure he could get a good view of her in her last moments.

“ I hope that in my next life, I’ll be the one to place your head on a stick and parade it around the capital.” She still held her head high as if she wasn’t who just defamed the future self-proclaimed king.

He let out a loud chuckle that would send chills down anyone’s spine, “ Those who have sinned don’t get a next life, I hope the heavens forgive you my dear.” To think the only time he called her my dear was in a sinister setting. He nodded his head as cue for the executioner to do his job, “ May your damned soul find peace in the after life.” He whispered before swinging the sword down.

Her throat felt cold and burned as she shot up in her bed holding her throat letting out a scream of terror. “ My Lady are you okay?” Her personal maid Olivia burst through the double doors of her room. Y/n looked around horrified, she was back in her room. And Olivia was alive and well? This couldn’t be, the maid had died after taking the fall saying she had poured the tea thinking it would save her master.

“ I-I’m fine, how old am I?” It all felt too real to be a dream, was she given a second chance? Or was this the peacefulness of the afterlife being with the ones she loves? “ You’re about to turn 17 in a week, are you sure that you’re okay? You look pale and sweaty my lady.” The maid worried checking her head for fever or any signs of one. She was interrupted when Y/n pulled her down into a hug.

“ I’m fine Liv, I’m just happy to see you that’s all.” The young girl was never this gentle on any subject but that prince. Ah, that bastard who dared to cross her after devoting her life and body to him. She had a year until her death so she hadn’t done anything stupid yet. But to change her fate she had to change the future. “ What’s my schedule for today?” She hummed, if they wanted a villainess she would play the part but for her own benefit.

Olivia looked at y/n like she had lost her mind, “ You’re having tea with the first prince, you had to wait a whole month to get him to agree since he said he was busy.” Ah, that was right Tooru did all he could do to ignore and shun his betrothed. What a cowardly man, she thought getting out of bed.

“ I want to wear a light orange dress today, the more innocent the better. I’ve got a crow to catch.” She smiled to herself as sat in front of her vanity. Her maid was distraught by the sudden change of dress. “ But my lady! You’ve had that revealing aqua dress you were planning to wear since it’s Prince Tooru’s favorite color.” Maybe her mistress had finally lost her mind.

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh, love was such a blind curse. “ Throw it out, and anything else that color it makes me was to puke. Now pick me out something simple for breakfast so I can have breakfast with father. The maid nodded and quickly got her ready.

“ Father!” Y/n hugged the stern Duke, his face automatically softening. She hadn’t clung to him like this since he told her that he got the king to accept her engagement to Prince Tooru. “well hello to you too sweetheart, what did I do to deserve this?” He was curious, he hadn’t brought her anything over the past few days due to him being gone.

She couldn’t believe that her father was standing before her alive and well. “ Nothing I’m just glad to see you, now let’s have breakfast together before I have to go to the palace. “ she clung to his arm as they walked to the table together, she was going to make sure her father didn’t die in vain this time.

“ And we're finished, you look gorgeous Lady Y/n. No Lady’s beautiful rivals yours, the prince will definitely fall in love with you this time.” Olivia gushed at her handy work, as y/n stared at herself in the mirror astonished at her reflection. “ Olivia I will reward you when I come back home, now I must go I don’t want to be late.” She smiled making her way to her carriage, it didn’t matter if she was late or not because the prince would always arrive an hour late just to show the true distance between them. In this hour of free time she would set her plan into action.

“ Lady Villarreal.” Her knight Wakatoshi Ushijima said, holding out his hand to help her on to the carriage. “ Toshi I told you not to be so formal when no one is around, I get enough of that already.” She giggled at him taking his hand and getting on. Not only was he the best knight of the Duke but also her childhood friend.

“ My apologies lad- y/n, I’m used to you always having one of the noble ladies with you.” Those ladies weren’t here friends only using her for her high status, in the past, she was just too dumb to see but now it was clear as day.

The second she arrived at the palace she told wakatoshi to wait for her, as she wanted her alone time with the prince. Aha if only they knew which prince she was talking about. Y/n was headed to the crow garden, where the second prince Tobio Kageyama would be since it was a garden dedicated to his late mother. Once aprincess from another kingdom before becoming the empress while Tooru’s mother was only a queen. Sadly Tobio’s mother died at a young age, this palace was deadly yet somehow he was still alive. She was taking a real gamble coming here trying to meet him, it could even cost her life but whether she dies now or a year later made no difference.

The garden was filled with orange and black flowers that seemed almost otherworldly, the girl looked like she was a part of the garden with her dress blending into the flowers. No sign of the second prince at all, maybe her plan was going all to waste. The girl crouched down gently touching a flower. Just then she felt a cold sword on her shoulders threatening to cut her neck. “ Your highness prince Tobio has forbidden anyone from picking the flowers. Stand up slowly and turn to state your name.” Y/n gulped as she followed instructions meeting eyes with Shoyo Hinata, the orange-headed prince’s guard. He usually wore a playful smile but when ordered to can become deadly in seconds.

“ Lower your sword, I’m very aware of who she is. Though I have no idea why you’d show your face in this part of the palace.” A low voice ordered from behind Shoyo. prince Tobio finally came into the picture, but he didn’t look too happy.

Y/n bowed after the sudden shock, “ Glory to you your highness, may you prosper.” She spoke humbly, he was almost taken aback that she was bowing in his stead. Yes, she was in a lower position than him, but rumor had it that the duke’s daughter thought of herself as a prince who would only bow below the king and her beloved. “ You may rise, Lady Villarreal, why have you come here?”

He was itching to find out why she was here of all places, was she sent by his brother to kill him? Tobio had never formally met Y/n only the rumors that she was an evil being. There was no evil being that stood before him just a lovely woman who looked innocent. “ I’m sorry that I’ve intruded, I’ve heard about this garden since I was little but was never able to come. Also I heard that you would be here.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, with Knight Hinata still here she couldn’t reveal her true plan yet.

She came here for him? What business did she have him with anyway? Maybe he had done something to offend her, Shoyo often told him that his face was scary and made ladies cry. “ Why would I be interesting enough for the lady to come all the way here just to see me? Does my brother know that you are here?” He and everyone else knew Tooru didn’t love Y/n but if he knew one thing about his brother is that he is possessive. Just knowing that his fiancé came to see him would drive him crazy.

“ Ah I can’t say, your guard is scaring me.” She lied straight through her teeth, Tobio took the bait nodded his head to dismiss his knight. “ Now you may speak freely.” This whole encounter was strange for him and what she was about to say was even stranger.

She took a deep breath, worse comes to worse she would be sent to jail for offending royalty. “ I’m going to cancel the engagement with the first prince.” She looked up to meet his eyes that just went wide with concern and confusion.

“ Why would you do that? And why would you be telling me this as if it mattered to me?” He questioned as his eyes narrowed with suspicion, maybe she wasn’t as weak as he had thought when he saw her.

Y/n smiled as she had just won a prize, he was asking questions which was a good sign. “ Well, it’s clear that Prince Tooru doesn’t love me, and is only with me for ties to the Villarreal Dukedom. Without me lowers his chances of being king, being with Maryanne Barlowe who can’t give him a status raise will be his downfall.”

“ You know speaking of a future king while the current one is still alive is a crime right, yet you refuse to bite your tongue. Go on and continue, I’ll decide by the end of this if you’ll end up in the dungeon or not.” Tobio advised causing her to gulp, she must not falter to his empty threats.

“ My birthday ball Tooru will bring lady Maryanne instead of escorting me, excuse me but that bastard is going to embarrass me for that woman publicly. I do not wish to stay by his side, I do not wish to love anymore. So please be my escort to my birthday, I will back you and make you king. Just don’t let me die.” Her eyes began to water and gloss over which she didn’t intend to happen, the thought of repeating the past scared her.

Tobio was taken back by the sudden emotions she held, she was shaking like her life was in danger. How was her fiancé being unfaithful going to end in death? His brain swirled with theories and answers but nothing made sense. This offer was too good for him to decline also too risky in the same sense. “ Keep your word that you’re going to cancel the engagement, then I’ll send you a message on what my answer will be.” This was the only acceptable answer he could give fearing this could all be a trap, something in her eyes was crying for him to help. If Tooru did become king he was as good as dead since he had hate for Tobio. With that he left without another word, he couldn’t take in any more information at the moment.

Y/n sat in the indoor garden sipping on her tea, she had been here for two hours, her fiancé was running extra late today not that she minded. It gave her time to practice speaking calmly instead of jumping over the table and brutally murder him for the trauma he had caused from her death. When the door opened Tooru arrived with Hajime, this tea was informal as ever how did y/n of the past look forward to meeting this rude man.

“ Sorry for being late, I had some stuff to take care of. “ he sat down expecting her to whine about how she had waited so long to see him. “ I didn’t mind, I was enjoying being in my own company. I’m starting to prefer spending time with myself instead.” She said calmly not even bothering to look up from her tea.

He smirked at her attitude, he wished she was always like this instead of drooling all over him. “ Your birthday is next week, I’m guessing you’re here to ask me to escort you? I’ll be wearing blue so you have to match me.” He loved toying with her emotions and getting her hopes up, yes he would agree to go but not with her.

Y/n hated the way he was so cocky and sure of himself, “ You don’t have to worry about us matching, I’m not wearing blue at all.” She simply stated finally meeting eyes with him. “ Is this your way of telling me that you want us to wear a different color? How rude you know I love blue.” If she wanted to wear a different color he would comply since it wasn’t his party but usually she agreed with whatever he said.

“ No not us, I will be wearing a different color since you won’t be escorting me.” She dropped the bomb on him even making his knight flinch at her harsh words. Tooru most definitely thought she was playing hard to get now. “ Why wouldn’t I be? I’m your loving fiancé aren't I?” He wore a playful smirk on his face, she was going to cave in if he played the part of a lover.

She chuckled at his ignorance, he just wasn’t getting it was he? “ Prince Tooru we both know you don’t love me, and I’ve decided to stop loving you now. So why don’t we do each other a favor, and stop this? I y/n Villarreal am annulling this engagement.” She stood up from her seat shucking the prince who could only grind his teeth. Lowering herself she got close to his ear, “ Why don’t you ask Maryanne Barlowe to be your betrothed, or you might be better off marrying a commoner.” Y/n stood up straight as she made her way to the door.

Tooru could barely react in time, “ If you leave right now Y/n, I will never take you back no matter how much you or your father beg me.” He stood up quickly making his chair topple over with a slam, their was no way this weak-minded girl changed overnight.

“ Your highness please refer to me as Lady Villarreal in public from now on, I don’t want people to get weird ideas.” She smiled politely before exiting, leaving the prince to flip over the tea table in anger. Though she had escaped from that death doesn’t mean she escaped from death completely.

A/n: it took me awhile to place the characters! Thank you to everyone who submitted stuff, I’m sorry if I didn’t get to use the character you wanted but I’ll be making some headcannons for the ones y’all sent. P.s I don’t hate Oikawa at all but you can’t tell me he doesn’t play his part well lmaooo. See you next time <3

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!!#iwaizumi hajime #aoba josai x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa headcanons #kageyama #kegayama tobio #karusuno #reincarnation #kegayama x reader #revenge #the villainess who lived

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toomanyfandoms02 · 4 years

Text

Halloween // Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

Another Story based on a gif/picture! (Hope this is kinda what you were thinking @aberrant-annie )

Summary - It's the first year that y/n and Matthew are a couple, and he insists that they have a couples costume for an upcoming party.

Word count - 2.5k

Gif courtesy of @nationgubler

It was that time of year again. The time where Matthew got impossibly excited, wore tremendously weird costumes, and snuck up behind me an ungodly amount of times.

Halloween.

Now you may be thinking, 'Halloween is a fun and *normal* time of year for many families!' But you only think that because you haven't met my boyfriend Matthew.

Now let's give a little background on the weirdo that is my best friend.

Matthew Gray Gubler is an actor, author, filmmaker, illustrator, fashion model, and painter. But what they don't put on his google search profile is that, before all, he is a Halloween Enthusiast.

He and I have been best friends for over 8 years, and every single one of those years he has effortlessly dragged me into any kind of spooky shenanigan that he could. This was the first year of the 8 that we are a couple, so he decided, in a fit of glory as he put it, that we *needed* a couple's costume this year for the Criminal Minds cast Halloween party. I was 100% down for this idea, but boy, I really didn't know what I was getting myself into by agreeing to it so easily. So let's go back to where this whole ordeal began.

The day was October 15th, and I was sitting blindfolded in the passengers seat of Matthew's car.

"Where the hell are we going?" I giggled, flailing my arms around the car, blindly looking for the trail mix I left in his car the day before. He grabbed my wrist, leading it down to the cupholder and putting my hand on the bag. He knew me too well.

"It's a surprise, obviously, just know it has to do with Halloween." He grabbed my hand and placed a gentle kiss to the top of it.

"Doesn't everything have to do with Halloween with you?"

"Maybe." He laughed.

We were in the car for around 15 minutes, all the while I jammed out to a mix of songs I loved and goofy Halloween themed songs. Matthew had made a playlist of the two as a compromise.

I heard the car click into park and listened as Matthew left the car and walked to my side, opening the door and leading me out.

"When will I be able to see again? This whole blind thing is not for me." He laughed at my remark, looping his arm through mine so he could lead me to what I could only assume was my death. That's when I heard it, the all too familiar laugh of a clown.

Here we go.

Without the notice of my lovely boyfriend I whipped my hand up to my head, removing the black cloth that covered my eyes, I only heard a squeak of protest from him before I saw 'The Haunted Jail' before me.

"Of course." I rolled my eyes in a playful manner, unhooking myself from his arm. "So, why are we here."

"Well, I was thinking that maybe we could get some couple costume ideas from here. It's the jails doubles night so two workers tag team on a costume." He gestured wildly with his hands towards the sign that read *Doubles night! Couples get a 15% discount tonight*. I shook my head in amusement.

"Alright, let's go."

After walking through the 3 story building, we came out with a nice list of ideas for scary couples costumes. This consisted of :

•Beetlejuice

•Pupetmaster and puppet

•Purge

•Wedding gone wrong

•Twisted Alice and Mad Hatter

Then we just had to come to a decision, and soon.

We then sat in the car on our way home to dig out more decorations from the attic. Our house from the inside looked like someone had gotten murdered. There were giant floor and window stickers that resembled blood, fake knives everywhere, and caution tape. This all paired with the tape in the shape of a body on the ground near our fridge. But Matthew had so graciously pointed out that we needed to decorate the outside like we were a haunted house.

He was currently up in our creepy ass attic as I stood with crossed arms at the end of the rickety ladder that led up there. He popped his head out of the little square hole, wearing a jason mask. I narrowed my eyes and shook my head with the smallest smile.

"I'm gonna hand some boxes down to you." I heard him say behind the muffling mask.

The first box held large organized strings of orange LEDs and hooks to set them up on. The next box was filled with fake webs and the next was a huge box. I set it on the ground, prying it open to reveal giant spiders with tacky red eyes and long fangs.

"Are we gonna have these bad boys climbing the ivy outside?" He popped from the attic in a new, mask. A werewolf one I assumed.

"Yep!" He lightly set another box in my hands. "I hate the smell of these masks," He ripped the mask off, revealing his unruly hair and squinting eyes from the new amount of light. "why do I keep buying them?" It made my heart melt, messy hair Gubler was my favorite Gubler.

We dragged all of the boxes outside and decorated for what seemed like 6 hours, it was way harder work than what you would expect. We ended up with 2 giant spiders hung on the ivy, 1 crawling up the porch, and 2 more on the roof. The webs we had were strung everywhere, but the 'main web', as Matthew called it, was across the porch. We had LEDs lighting up most of the outside of our house, it made it look like a constant sunset, or constantly living in a horror movie. Whatever floats your boat. And lastly, we had bloody tomb stones scattered in the yard with fake hands reaching up at the sky through the ground.

Then it was October 16th. I had woken up groggily, feeling the bed beside me for Matthew, but only touching the soft white sheets. The time was 9:47 am and the sun was bleeding through the curtains. My legs hung over the bed as my limbs stretched, pulling down a shirt that was much to large for me *probably because it wasn't mine*. As soon as I stepped out of my bedroom I was met with a scream mask.

"**Morning!**" This made me scream.

"Damnit Matthew Gray! Christ, will the scaring ever end?" I say this but of course, it was really one of my favorite things about him.

"Not until Christmas." He replied with a cocky smile, kissing me softly. I grabbed the back of his neck, deepening the kiss and trying to make him take the hint. He pulled away swiftly. "I would *love* to continue doing this." He ran his hands down my arms and to my hips. "But I made you breakfast and eggs are better warm." He squeezed my hip and gently pushed me toward the kitchen.

Over breakfast we discussed what we were going to go as for the party. We came to the conclusion that doing purge killers would be the most fun. Now all we had to do was get the costumes.

So we left around 1 for Party City. The place had a surprisingly small amount of people, considering the time of year. However there was one girl in there that kept sneaking looks at Matthew. She was standing near some children's costumes. I quickly found out why when a kid came running up with an Alice and Wonderland costume. Shaking it profusely at her mom. The woman kneeled down to her size and gestured towards Matthew. I scrunched my face up.

*What was she telling her?*

Matthew had kept walking and I swiftly caught up with him in the mask aisle. As soon as I got there, the small girl I had just saw was tugging at his orange pumpkin T-Shirt.

"Hi! My mommy said she's a big fan of you on crimimal minds." I giggled a bit. She waved him down to her level, and he gladly came down to listen. "I think she might have a crush on you." I could hear her whisper. He looked back at me expectantly, I just smiled with a shrug. I wasn't much of the jealous type, Matthew was *extremely* loyal, I trusted him with my life. I shooed him towards the woman. He stood and waved at her, gesturing her over and backing up to be by me. I was trying to be inconspicuous and look at the masks. But clearly my lovely boyfriend had a different idea.

"Hi! What's your name?" He asked with a famous million dollar grin.

"A-ashley." She stood for a second, silently staring at him. "I'm sorry, I obviously didn't expect to be seeing you. I'm a just huge fan of yours. And it doesn't help that you are way cuter in person." She smiled shyly, hugging her daughter to her side. Matthew smiled politely but quickly snaked his arm around my hip. I turned to her with the kindest smile I could. I could see realization dropping from her eyes to the red tips of her ears.

"Well you obviously know I'm Matthew. This is my girlfriend, y/n." I leaned into him slightly. Me and Matthew hadn't exactly gone *public*. So it was an honest mistake that she wouldn't know we were together. But to be fair, we weren't hiding it either. "Would you like a picture by the way?" That seemed to distract her enough to knock her out of her clearly petrified trance.

"Yes! A million times yes!"

"I'll take it for you." I grabbed the phone she held out with a slightly tense smile. We took a few pictures and said our goodbyes as she checked out an left. We got back to looking at masks.

"Did you see her face when I grabbed your hips? I kinda live for that look." I smacked his arm playfully.

"The poor girl, she just flirted with you in front if your *girlfriend*. You petrified her!"

"Well I think you just made her a little jealous." He came behind me, wrapping his arms around my stomach and kissing my shoulders.

"Ok Gubler," I slipped from his grip. "we are in public." He groaned a little and followed me down the aisle. I grabbed the cool LED masks with the X's for eyes and big smiles, the typical Purge ones. I got me a purple one and him a red one. Next stop was fake weapons.

I gazed at all of the weapons on the wall. Machetes, guns, bats, nunchucks, knives, all of it. I then looked over to see my boyfriend squinting and tapping his chin in fake contemplation.

"Oh just grab the knife, I know that's what you wanna get." He whipped it off the wall and gave me a serious look, pointing the sharp styrofoam at me. He tapped it to my nose and couldn't contain his laugh as I looked him in the eyes with the biggest smile I could muster.

"You really know how to break me out of character."

So he did end up buying the styrofoam knife, and I ended up buying a plastic machete. As we left the store, the masks and weapons in hand he nudged me.

"So have you thought of what we are gonna wear?"

"Oh yeah. I already have the outfit, you're gonna love it, mine at least. We still have some spare fake blood at home right?" He narrowed his eyes at me, nodding suspiciously. "Great, then I just have to decorate the shirts." Which is exactly what I did when we got home.

I laid our two white button up's on our asphalt driveway, splattering them with blood. Matthew watched me. Sitting a lawn chair as I covered my hands in the blood and put a few handprints on random parts.

"Can I see the whole outfit you have planned now?" He whined.

"Nope, you have to wait. It's not that far away."

But he had asked me to show him everyday up until today, October 31st, party day. Now here we are, on our way back from a McDonalds run that took a *bit* longer than anticipated and we had a very slight chance of being late. We stumbled into the house and ran to the room.

"Why are we rushing anyway?" I took a pause, catching my breath. "We don't have to be exactly on time anyway." He agreed and we slowed down a bit to get our things together.

"I didn't want to have to rush out after seeing you in costume anyway." He said, slyly reaching into the closet and grabbing our button up's. I grabbed the rest of my things from a plastic bag under my side of the bed. I went to the bathroom and changed. My outfit consisted of a black miniskirt, a black cropped tube top, and black knee high socks. Paired with black heeled low-top booties. Then slung over it all was ny open button up. I sheathed my machete behind me and walked out of the bathroom to see Matthew in his bloody shirt and old dress pants and shoes. His giant knife was sheathed in a holster on his side. He ogled at me for a moment, shifting on his feet.

"Holy- wow." He breathed out. I waltzed up to him, unbuttoning a few more buttons and messing his hair to fit the part a bit more. I handed him his mask, with my eyebrows raised. He set it on the bed behind him, cupping my face and bringing me in for a kiss. I ran my hands down his half bare chest and I could feel him smile into the kiss, so I did too, and boy was he a sucker for that. He deepened the kiss and pull me towards him as much as he could, leading his hands lower and lower. Eventually he grabbed my butt a little and I let a giggle slip into the kiss. I parted from him, staring into those honey brown eyes. I felt like a teenager. He had not taken his eyes off me since I left the bathroom.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

"Alright." He slid he phone from his pocket, snapping a picture of me. What was I gonna do with this man? I grabbed our masks and we headed out.

We were only about 20 minutes late to the party. We turned our LEDs on and entered AJs house, as her door was wide open.

"You guys look *amazing*!" Kirsten gushed. "Especially you y/n. *Damn* do you rock those socks."

"I know right?" He lifted his mask, placing a kiss on my cheek.

The whole night was filled with chugging fun Halloween themed drinks, compliments on our costumes, slipping secret kisses, and quite the photo shoot.

*And man was I in for it when I got home.*

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

@spenciereiddd said they wanted tagged in some writing, so here ya go my dude.

#mgg #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthewgraygubler #spencer reid

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aquariusrunes · 4 years

Text

The Superfriends AU (part 12)

Damian kept his eyes on Marinette.

She had been off all day, and their talk that morning had only proven his suspicions. Something was bothering her, and it was all Adrien Agreste’s fault. His fists clenched as the woman in front of him began working on him. Thinking about that blonde tom cat made his blood boil. Whatever he did, Damian would kill him for it. His cousin was sweet and naive despite her vast genius. She wanted to trust people, and when she did, she did it with her whole heart. And that blonde buffoon had broken it in to a million pieces.

It wasn’t just the boy though, no. It was also that stupid video, it had to be. He hadn’t enjoyed it when it was sent to his phone. It was messy and loud, and while he had misjudged the small blonde girl, he still thought the spectacle was stupid. Anyone who poked a cadged animal was stupid, and that was obviously what that Italian girl was.

At least he was finally able to put a face to the name of Lila Rossi.

It was a tactical failure for sure. His cousin had mentioned that she had everything involving the girl under control, but this was not what she could have planned. Marinette looked like she was on the verge of puking all morning, Damian recognized regret easily enough. That had been why he’d tried to talk to her, only to find out that it was the mistake of the morning and something that awful model had done that was upsetting her.

Now his phone was being blown up with messages from the small blonde french girl who was, for some reason, still in his phone as ‘Sweetness.’ She wouldn’t stop texting him, hadn’t since the video had arrived. She apparently got the wrong idea from their earlier correspondence and was now under the impression that they were friends. And she kept asking for pictures of him and Colin.

Said boy was currently the one in possession of his phone. His boyfriend was switching between gleefully rewarching the video with a wickedly satisfied grin and texting with the blonde girl. Damian found the whole thing ridiculous, seeing how Colin didn’t know any French. Yet somehow he and the girl were holding some sort of conversation and he was, apparently, taking immense joy from the video that he couldn’t even understand.

Suddenly a brush was in his face, painting foundation onto his skin. Damian could make a list fifty feet long detailing how much he hated makeup. He would growl at the woman currently caking his face in the disgusting stuff, but Colin was sitting in front of him on the edge of the platform, and the last thing he needed was for the redhead to be mad at him.

Marinette was currently in a changing room, trying on the brand new outfit Edna’s people had slapped together in just under an hour and a half. Chloé was, strangely, also in the changing room his cousin was in. The two girls had been inseparable from one another’s sides since coming back from lunch.

It was strange.

Damian didn’t like it.

The blonde bitch was surely just trying to get his cousin to stop being upset with her precious model, which would not fly while Damian was here. He wouldn’t let Marinette be manipulated like that. Honestly, she was far too trusting. And here he thought she knew better than to trust that bitch. He’d have to talk to her later about Bourgeois. Even if Jon liked her, something was off about the girl, a feeling he couldn’t rip from his gut despite trying for the half Kryptonian’s sake.

Damian’s eyes scanned the room, his mind suddenly being alerted to an absence. Something was missing. Someone was missing. The person’s absence had been nagging at him all morning, but then the empty space was filled during lunch. But it was gone now once again.

“Colin.” he nudge the boy’s back with his foot. “Where did Jon go?”

“Dunno, he got a call from his dad and wandered off to take it in private.” Colin looked up, neck twisted to stare at his boyfriend. “It’s actually weird, because he was on the phone with his mom all morning.”

“Why did Lois call him?”

“I don’t know.” The redhead shrugged. “But it seemed like it really messed with him. I tried to ask him about it but then Mr. Kent called and he disappeared.” Colin’s eyes went back to Damian’s phone, texting out a few more messages before looking back at his boyfriend. “Actually, I haven’t seen Mr. Wayne around either. Do you know where he is?”

“He informed me last night that their was some business he had to attend to, something to do with Diana Prince’s exhibit at The Gotham Museum of Antiquities.” Damian leaned back in his seat, the look Colin gave him making it clear he understood the code. A Justice League Emergency. “He said he should be back before the festivities at the end of the week.”

“Do you know what happened?” Colin asked, turning his whole body to face the boy, scooting over a tad so that the makeup artist wasn’t blocking his view. “At the museum, I mean.”

Damian shook his head, his chin quickly being grabbed by the woman working on him, forcing him to stay still. He bit back a growl before responding. “Wouldn’t tell me a word. Maybe Kent’s filling Jon in on it. If my father’s involved I would assume his father is as well.”

Colin tried not to laugh at his boyfriend’s obvious discomfort. “Guess we’ll just have to wait for him then.” Colin turned back around, eyes going back to the phone. “God she is so nice,” He whispered.

“How are you even holding a conversation with her?” Damian asked.

“Rose is fluent in four languages, English being one of them.” Colin smiled back at him. “I think I’ve made a new best friend.” he teased. Damian just sighed. Between his cousin and his boyfriend, he was never going to get his phone back.

Suddenly Colin’s head whipped back around. “Wait, what would Mrs. Lane have to do with the museum?”

Damian thought for a moment. Lois wasn’t overly involved in Justice League affairs. She was a deputized civilian, meaning she was technically a League member. It was a complicated system that was hard to explain and sometimes difficult even for Damian to decipher. But he did know that Lois handled the bulk of the League's publicity. Thanks to how she handled Superman, and a handful of other heroes, before she even knew their identities.

But what kind of disruption could need Lois, Clark, Bruce, and Diana?

“I don’t know.” Damian resisted the urge to rub his chin. The only thing involving the League and Lois at the current moment was Lex Luthor Senior. The man had been in jail for several months now and his trial was quickly approaching. They’d tried to get that man arrested on several charges including tax fraud, terrorism, and other things, for many year, but nothing ever stuck. But now, now they had him on attempted murder, attempted murder of Lois Lane. Usually this wouldn’t fly, with the public knowing Lois’s loyalties to Superman and the League it would be assumed anything she said to reflect negatively on Luthor would be for the heroes, but they had a witness now.

“The case maybe?” He whispered, hoping to god nothing bad had happened. If that man got out so many things would go up in flames. He would have to get in touch with Tim, ask him to ask Conner. He hated Conor being so involved with his half brother, put if Lex Jr. really was so great, maybe he would have some useful information.

“Case?” Colin asked.

“Look up Lois Lane and Lex Luthor, see what pops up.” Damian turned his attention back to the woman currently painting his lips an ice blue. He didn’t want to discuss such sensitive things carelessly out in public. He also didn’t want Jon to magically appear while they were discussing it. He knew the whole situation was bothering him. But, no one took the attempted murder of their parent well. At least, that’s what Damian’s experience told him.

…

Marinette was living for this redesign.

The tube top had been changed to black, the shall had disappeared, a silver collar, like Chloé’s golden one, now adorned her neck. Instead of the skirt she now wore a pair of high waisted black short shorts, a thick silver belt wrapped around her abdomen. Silk straps in silver, lavender, dark blue, and a lighter black made up the overskirt that hid most of the shorts, only exposing them from the front few. She was also now given shoes, heeled gladiator boots in silver, matching all of her jewelry. The diadem, earrings and bracelets from earlier had also stayed apart of the outfit.

Was it less revealing? No.

If anything it was more so.

But it was a million times more fashionable, and by Edna’s smile said that she knew it too.

Marinette still felt awful, and if anything was a million times more confused after her talk with Chloé, which was still on going. Every time they had a break, the blonde girl would start whispering more of her story, basically retelling the past three years from her perspective.

Chloé was in her outfit from earlier that morning, the two girls were on a platform filled with fake pink, orange, blue, and whtie clouds. Currently Marinette’s back was leaned against the blonde’s, repositioning her head as the photographer dictated.

“I’m a little pissed.” Chloé whispered. “The boy’s get to-” The flash of the camera went off, several photos being taken. “Get to do their photoshoot with bows and arrows. Like that’s so unfair.”

“Bows and arrows?” Her cousin? Angry at Adrien? With a bow and arrow in his proximity? That would not be good.

“Totally unfair, I want to play with weapons too.” Chloé’s pout only lasted a moment before the photographer was ordering them to pose in different positions. The group shots the other day hadn’t been awful, mainly because she was only taking pictures with Damian. It was beyond strange to be all over Chloé, especially with how sensitive her thoughts towards the girl currently were.

She had known.

She had known for years.

She’d been akumatized multiple times with knowledge of both her and her partner’s identities in her head and Hawkmoth never found out. She didn’t even know how that was possible. Just how much control did Hawkmoth really have?

But possibly what had taken her by surprise the most, what she still couldn’t quite believe, was that her sweet, idiotic, adorable partner, outed himself with Physics.

“Physics?” Marinette was in disbelief at the blonde’s words, her sandwich barely half eaten.

Chloé simply nodded. “Yup.” She leaned forward, having laid down on the bed, she propped her chin on her hands. “See, back before Adri started school, I would go over to his house and try and get him to do some of my homework for me, cause he’s crazy smart ya know?”

“I think only Max can surpass him in book smarts.” Marinette nodded.

“Well, he would never actually do anything for me. But he’d explain everything.” Chloé rolled her eyes. “Adrien has a very specific way he explains things, especially physics.” She leaned forward a little further. “So, when Ladybug instructed Chat Noir to watch over me after Nathaniel got akumatized I tried to get him to do my homework.”

“Oh my god.” Marinette mumbled through a mouth full of sandwich.

“And he started explaining in that special Adrien way. He even said, ‘You go this Chlo’ which is what he always said whenever I would get frustrated while he was helping me.”

“Physics.” The bluenette mumbled, after swallowing. “I always thought he’d out himself with a pun.”

“You okay?” Chloé’s voice brought her out of her thoughts, Marinette blinked a few times, smiling at the woman touching up her lipstick. The woman smiled back before leaving the platform.

“Fine.” Marinette huffed. “Just lost in thought.

“I know everything we talked about was a lot, sorry to dump it on you so suddenly.” Chloé looked down, eyes on her clasped hands.

“Honestly, it was probably for the best. If you hadn’t told me when you did I would have just been worrying about it all day long.” Marinette’s hand raised, landing on Chloé’s shoulder and squeezing it reassuringly. “But you do know that I’ve got to tell Adrien, or if you want to-”

“I think I’d prefer it if you did.” Marinette nodded.

“Alright girls!” The photographer clapped. “I want Artemis laying on that cloud, and Apollo on her stomach on that one!” He pointed as he spoke, both girls going where told, adjusting their bodies at the man’s command.

Marinette’s eyes ran over the room before focusing back on the camera. Damian still wasn’t in his outfit. It still hadn’t been fetched from Italy. Edna had mentioned Violet’s younger brother. The bluenette’s mind was filled with memories from her last visit to the Mode Building, when she’d first met Violet and a very eager eleven year old who would not stop aggressively hitting on her.

If who she thought was really going to collect this garment, she could only hope that he wouldn’t be let up onto the floor where the shoot was happening. Violet probably wouldn’t allow it. She’d collect it from him in the lobby or something and bring it up herself.

She’d just been dealing with so much today, she didn’t know if she could handle-

‘ ding ’

She really did have the most fantastic luck.

The elevator door slid open, a short muscular fourteen year old sauntering out with a black garment bag slung over his shoulder. A self satisfied smirk plastered across his chiseled jaw. His cheekbones hard and square, the bridge of his sloped nose splashed with light brown freckles. His blonde hair was swept back, resembling someone who’d just gone for a joy ride in a ferrari. He swaggered across the room, a free hand stuck deep into his khaki slacks. His clothing suggesting he’d just come from a private school of sorts.

“Have no fear!” He announced, holding up his free hand. “Your hero is here!” He pressed it to his chest, mumbling something along the lines of “hold the applause please.”

Violet came into the room from behind him, smacking him across the back of the head and snatching the bag out of his hand. “You’re late.”

“Ow!” He said very pointedly at her, so pointedly that Marinette doubted it actually hurt. “You said asap, well, I had a test.”

“Like you actually try in any math class.” She walked past him, taking the garment straight to the changing rooms, several other assistants flocked to her, checking the outfit for possible damages from transit.

The boy shot his sister a dirty look before turning his attention to Edna, the woman was standing in the middle of the room. “Dashiell!” She called, arms open wide.

“Edna!” He opened his own arms, but instead of hugging they high fived, resulting in a complicated handshake that reminded Marinette of her and her cousin’s own. “So good to see you!”

“I trust you had no trouble?” The woman asked.

“Not an ounce.” He smiled wide. “I assure you, I took this job as seriously as possible, I even went a longer root so that I would be on the water for the shortest time possible.” Marinette didn’t know Dash well, but she did know he was god awful at keeping his secret identity underwraps. She had never been more thankful for the fact that a specific person didn’t know she was a superhero.

“Who is that?” Chloé whispered harshly to her.

“Dash Parr.” Marinette said dryly, watching as Edna handed Dash a thick stack of American dollars. “Violet’s little brother.”

“So, we don’t like him?” The blonde asked.

“As promised, double the normal fee, in assorted bills.” Edna said, patting Dash’s hand once the money was in his grip.

“Happy I could be of assistance.”

“And if your parents ask?” The short woman’s eyebrow quirked up.

“As far as mom knows, I just wanted to see my lovely sister.” The boy’s grin turned into a smirk. “And as far as dad’s concerned, I ran across an ocean today in under three minutes.” Dash winked, the two girls, and several other workers, watched as Edna pulled a fifty dollar bill from her coat, placing it on top of Dash’s stack.

“Always a pleasure Dashiell.” She patted the boy’s cheek before turning back to the photographer.

Marinette was hopeful for a moment, finally responding to Chloé’s question. “It’s not necessarily that we don’t like him.” The boy turned, most likely to leave, but for a moment he faced Marinette and Chloé’s platform. His eyes locked on her. And suddenly he was walking towards them.

All hope was lost.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheg!” he called.

“Cheg?” Chloé whispered.

Marinette held back her grimace. “Hi Dash.” She bit out through clenched teeth.

“Well,” His eyes ran up and down her body and Marinette had never felt more icky in her entire life. “Don’t you just look awesome.”

Chloé’s eyes narrowed. “How old are you?” She whispered, watching as Dash hopped up on the platform. He was a few inches shorter than Marinette, meaning he was several inches shorter than Chloé.

“Fourteen gorgeous,” Dash winked at her and Chloé’s face twisted immediately.

“Oh god no.” She spat.

“How’ve you been Mar-Mar?” He asked, leaning against one of the clouds, he immediately began to flex.

“Mar-Mar?” Chloé asked, eyes narrowing. “What is happening?” She began looking around, trying to find someone to explain. Damian had been shoved into a changing room now that his garment was here, and Adrien was getting his makeup touched up for his and Damian’s shoot.

Chloé was curious as to what would happen when the boy noticed, but seeing as Gabriel was in attendance today, she thought it best not to draw his attention. When she turned her attention back to Marinette, the girl’s face had grown extremely pensive. The short blonde boy was bragging about how much he could bench press.

Chloé took a step closer to the girl, leaning close to whisper in her ear. “No, seriously,” She hissed. “Who is this kid?”

Marinette only shook her head. Both girls turning back to face Dash as he launched into a story about how the entire cheerleading team was currently arguing over who he’d be taking to prom. “Course I haven’t said yes to anyone yet.” He winked at Marinette again, this time Chloé was close enough to feel the girl shiver. “Incase a special little lady shows up intime.”

Chloé grabbed Marinette’s hand, unsure what else to do in the moment.

“DASH!” All three of them jumped at the noramly calm Violet’s angry shout. “Oh my god! Get off of there! We are in the middle of a shoot.” Violet reached up and grabbed Dash’s ear. She yanked him off the platform that surprised Chloé but didn’t seem to phase Marinette.

“Ow! Ow! OW! Violet!” The boy cried.

“No!” Violet began to march toward the elevators. “No! No! No! You need to leave now! You are disrupting the shoot! Demarcus!” a large black man suddenly appeared, he was dressed in a nice suit and was very obviously security. “Please escort Dash here out of the building, in fact, make sure he leaves the city.”

“Yes ma’am.” Demarcus took Dash’s arm. “If you’d come with me please sir.”

“Wait! Wait! Wait! Vi!”

“What?” Violet crossed her arms, face set in a glare.

“There are a bunch of robot pigeons that keep showing up at the house, and Mom is starting to get really frustrated cause JackJack keeps fighting them and-”

“Oh my god.” Violet slapped her forehead. “Okay, just please leave. I’ll talk to Hiro.” Violet turned away as the door closed on Dash and Damarcus. “Jesus christ I hate all of them.”

Chloé slowly turned to Marinette, releasing the girl’s hand. “No seriously,” She said. “What-who was that? What just happened?”

Marientte sighed, slumping against one of the clouds. “That was Dashiell Robert Parr.”

“I hated that.” Chloé said. “I never want to experience that again in my entire life.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling.” The bluenette crossed her arms. “He’s a lot.”

“He called you Mar-Mar Dupain-Cheg.” Chloé pointed out. “Like, what the hell? Cheg? Mar-Mar?” Chloé looked around, almost like she was trying to find proof of what she just experienced. “Did I dream that?”

“More like nightmared it.” Marinette commented.

Chloé stared at her wide eyed. “Mar-Mar.” Chloé said monotone. “And I thought Bugaboo was a stupid nickname.”

…

Adrien rolled his shoulders, trying to regain some sense of comfort now that he was strapped into the white silk tank top. Thick leather straps in brass and gold had been draped tastefully around his abdomen, then wrapped tightly around his bare arms, constricting his muscles to the point where it was hard to move. But he didn’t want to make the jobs of the two men working on sorting his outfit any more difficult than it had to be, so he stayed as still as possible.

“God she’s a genius.” He had heard something along those lines so many times in the past two days, he’d lost count. He had greatly underestimated just how much Edna Mode was worshiped by her followers. Not that he disagreed, or not a lot, but he definitely thought that for some of the designs he’d seen so far, Marinette could easily make a better version. His point only being proved by Marinette’s amazing redesign of her own outfit that very morning.

And she did that while not even functioning at a hundred percent.

It was pretty obvious to Adrien that his partner had been off all morning. Heck, he had been off all morning. He was hoping to talk to her over lunch, see if he couldn’t help her and maybe discuss some things that had been distressing him as well. But Chloé had dragged her off before Adrien could even get to her.

Now that was distressing.

The two girls showed back up to the shoot together an hour and a half later, looking thick as thieves. While the thought of his oldest friend and his best friend (best female friend as Nino was his best male friend and that was the only way he could sort them in good conscience because they both meant so much to him) finally getting along made him so happy, he would be lying if he said their time alone didn’t worry him.

One of the men wrapped a gaudy golden belt around his middle, it was thick and rested heavily against his hips, but he didn’t complain. “You really do look like an everyday adonis.” The other man commented.

“Thank you.” Adrien gave a polite smile as one of the men started adjusting the straps that fell over the belt. Soon four sets of hands were at work on the straps hanging off the slim dark brown pants he wore. A woman came over, fixing his quiffed hair to be a bit more messy. Edna had referred to the style as ‘sex hair’ but he preferred to think of it as a windswept look. Once the woman was done with his hair she moved on to his neck, placing a heavy golden collar around his throat, letting it rest against his shoulders. It reminded him of a cat collar.

Next to him stood Damian. The boy wore a black vest with silver accents, his arms wrapped in similar leather straps to Adrien’s, but his were colored silver and ice blue. He wore loose black slacks, silver leather straps hanging off the sides of his hips in hooped fashion, the straps having similar black details to the vest.

In terms of jewelry, Damian had a silver collar like Adiren’s gold one, but he did not have a belt like Adrien. Instead Damian’s wrists were clad in long gauntlet like silver bracelets. He also had a silver diadem placed on his forehead. A brilliant blue stone set in its center, it matched Marinette’s eyes well, and also matched the matte color Damian’s lips had been painted.

“You know, when Edna referred to these as strappy ensembles, I was kind of hoping she was kidding.” Adrien said, eyes moving back to focus on his reflection.

“Edna doesn’t kid, especially when it comes to her work.” Damian’s voice was monotone, his hands raised to push back the curls of his bangs.

“Seems like that runs in the family.” Adrien whispered, hoping Damian hadn’t heard him once the words left his mouth. “So…” God, this silence hurt.

“We don’t need to talk while this happens.” Damian said, eyes firm on his reflection, it looked like he was glaring at himself.

“Oh-o-okay.” Adrien looked down, as the woman who put the collar on him placed a golden diadem on his forehead. His stone was a much darker blue, possibly Lapis Lazuli but he wasn’t sure. All the knowledge he had in regards to gemstones came from Steven Universe.

“Couple of Princes the two of you.” The woman said, smiling at the boys. “No wonder Edna fought so hard for you.”

“She fought for him, I agreed rather seamlessly.” Damian corrected. “Am I done?” He looked over at her, eyes cold.

“Oh, um yes.”

“Good.” Damian walked away from the two, going to sit down on one of Edna’s platforms that’s only purpose, Adrien was roughly seventy-percent certain, was to make the woman taller. His boyfriend greeted him cheerfully, but seemed to be mainly preoccupied with Damian’s phone.

“Well isn’t he a ray of sunshine.” The woman commented, resting her hand on her hip as she cocked it out.

“No kidding.” Adrien whispered, eyes downcast. It didn’t necessarily bother him when people didn’t like him, he’d had fans and haters since day one of his career. But it was bothering him that someone so important to Marinette disliked him, or at least it seemed like Damian didn’t like him. Adrien could see Damian in the mirror, he was glaring at him.

It also didn’t help that he’d had a knot in his stomach since he found out Marinette’s plan that morning. Nino’s video only amplifying his pains. While he didn’t like Lila, and knew she needed to be stopped, he couldn’t help but think there was a better way to do it then publicly humiliate her in front of the whole school. She wasn’t a good person but she wasn’t down right evil, she deserved a little sympathy.

Or maybe Adrien was just too nice. Which was something Chloé had insisted that morning when he complained about not liking what was happening. Plagg had agreed with her when Adrien relayed the story to him. Saying that Adrien was far too forgiving for his own good, and insisting once again, that it was okay to be angry with someone. He knew that. He wasn’t a child. Nor was he as innocent and helpless as people around him seemed to think. He just didn’t like conflict.

He wished, once again, that he could have discussed these feelings with Marinette at lunch. He knew he would feel better once he talked things out with her, he always did. That is why he originally started visiting her as Chat Noir. Marinette, as herself or as his lady, she always made things better, made people feel better, made him feel better. He just needed a few minutes with her, to discuss what happened, explain why it caused him such unrest. He needed to hear her side. Needed to talk to her, or maybe just be in her close proximity again, after she dodge him all morning long.

Just a few minutes.

She was like a battery, super charging him whenever she was near.

Suddenly a large ornate golden bow was handed to the blonde boy. It was heavy in his hands, and he had to wonder amidst his marveling at the details, if this was a real weapon. Had someone just handed him, a sixteen year old boy, a real weapon?

He looked around, sure this must be a mistake, but instead of someone taking the thing away, he was taken by the arm. One of the men from earlier leading him to the platform, a forest scene. His stage for the next photoshoot. A photoshoot that involved weapons?

He saw someone handing Damian a silver bow identical to his golden one. Adrien couldn’t put his finger on why, but it made his stomach drop. Now Damian had a weapon, a real weapon. That couldn’t be a good idea. This couldn’t be right. There had to be a mistake of some kind, right?

Suddenly he was on the platform. Damian facing him across the fake grass. His eyes still set in a galre. Adrien gulped. He had an awful feeling.

“Okay!” The photographer shouted. “So I want these photos to have a bit more aggression to them. You boys think you can give me that aggressive vibe?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe.”

Damian’s quick answer only made the blonde boy even more nervous.

“Good!” The bald man clapped his hands. “Someone give them their arrows.”

Arrows!?

…

Damian couldn’t help the smirk that stretched across his features as he placed his arrow against the bow’s string. It felt good, natural. You never forget, it’s like riding a bike. Weapons always made him feel so comfortable. He knew how to deal with weapons, unlike people.

His cousin was in distress, and now she was avoiding him. She was upset because of Adrien Agreste. He upset her and she was still worried about him, it was obvious. She was worried Damian would do something, which he wouldn’t of course. But he wanted to. He wanted to do something to make her feel better.

“Wouldn’t piercing that pretty face with an arrow make her feel better?” Something wicked whispered in his ear. The voice was icky and made his skin crawl, evil. It sounded like his grandfather, but at the same time like his mother.

Hurting Adrien wouldn’t make her feel better, just Damian.

He pulled the drawstring back, stopping when it grazed the corner of his lips. The photographer told them to do it, but Adrien wasn’t doing it quite right. Someone had to get up on the platform and help him, show him how to position it correctly.

He reminded Damian of a baby deer, fumbling on new legs.

“Easy Pray.” The voice whispered.

It was like riding a bike. His senses were always on fire, acutely aware of how to take down everyone around him. Even with all the training, all the philosophies his father had spent years shoveling into his head, his inner assassin never slept. His beast was always awake, waiting for a week spot in Damian’s defenses, waiting to break out and cause havoc.

Damian barely registered the flashes of the camera.

He was so angry, the longer he stared at Adrien’s face. The blonde’s glare was fake, he knew that. The boy didn’t seem like he had it in him to hate. Damian had too much capacity for hate, or so people told him.

Damian’s glare was real.

He had a large capacity for hate, currently that hate was mostly directed towards Adrien. Marinette trusted too easily, she trusted her heart to people too easily. Why would she pick someone to love who could hurt her so easily?

More flashes, he registered these even less.

They were told to walk forward a few paces, they both did. Adrien had to have that same assistant come and help him reposition his bow. How was he a hero? How was Paris not destroyed? How was his cousin still alive with a partner who was so useless, with a partner who so carelessly hurt her.

“He hurt her.”

Did he care that he hurt her? Damian hadn’t seen the two of them speak since Adrien left them that morning. Adrien was avoiding Marinette, that was the only explanation. Of course, he was hurting her and he knew it.

“He wants her to hurt.”

Damian was so angry.

...

“Now some without the bows!” Edna had clapped, clapping while giving orders, it was something she had always done. But Damian had lost focus on the world around him, he was just so angry. He’d lost focus. The noise startled him.

He hadn’t meant to.

He didn’t mean to.

His eyes widened as a scream filled the room. It was his cousin, he knew that. She screamed. Marinette screamed and then his arrow sunk deep into the fake bark of a prop tree. He’d missed Adrien by a millimeter, he was sure there was a cut on the blonde’s cheek. It wouldn’t be more than a hair's breadth. But it would be there.

Edna would know it.

Marinette would know it.

Damian knew it.

He wasn’t trained to miss. He always hit his target. Not always lethally, but he always hit them. He had just been so angry. He was startled. He hadn’t meant to. He really hadn’t. It was an accident, he was startled.

“Damian!”

“Oh my god!”

“Adrien!”

Suddenly Marinette and Chloé were on the platform. The girls flanking the blonde’s sides. For his worth, Adrien hadn’t moved. It was like the arrow hadn’t even phased him. All he had done was lower his weapon.

Enda was at Damian’s side. He hadn’t lowered the bow yet. She ripped it from his hands. She was yelling at him but he wasn’t quite registering it yet. He had been startled and his hand slipped.

Marinette’s eyes hurt.

His eyes had the power to cut people, cut them down, crush their strength, strike fear. Her eyes had the power to hurt, to cause hearts to break. He felt that hurt, felt his chest ache as she stared at him, eyes narrowed, frown set.

Adrien had hurt her.

Damian had hurt him.

Had Damian hurt her?

“Damian what the hell was that!” He was hit by the bow, his head ached now along with his heart. Edna was still at his side, she was fuming.

“I-” He didn’t know what to say, honestly. He hadn't meant to. His fingers slipped, he was startled and it made him release. It was an accident. “I don’t know.” He whispered.

“You don’t know?!” Edna shouted. “You shot at him!”

“I’m fine Ms. Mod-Enda. Really, I am.” Adrien raised his hands, why was he trying to help? Damian had just shot at him.

“Adrien you’re hurt.” Marinette’s fingers traced the cut, the boy flinched barely. Tender flesh. Damian knew she’d be able to see it.

“It’s just a cut.” The blonde whispered.

“Edna that psychopath just shot an arrow at my son!” Gabriel Agreste’s voice cut through the crowd. Now the asshole cared? Damian couldn’t help the thought.

“Why are these real arrows?” Chloé asked, getting Marinette’s attention. “Shouldn’t they just be props?”

“Did you seriously give him a real weapon?” Marinette’s words were quieter, but Damian caught them. He was dangerous with weapons, everyone in his family knew that. They feared him when he was armed.

“Edna.” Gabriel pulled the woman a way.

Damian had to wonder if he would be getting sent home. They were only two days into the shoot. His father wasn’t here to defend him. Would Father defend him? Edna could easily replace him, eat into a few safety days to reshoot. Maybe it was for the best? If a Justice League emergency was brewing they might need him.

They wouldn’t ask him to leave, he would ask to be dismissed. It was only right after all. He caused such an incident. He should leave. They would want him to.

Damian stepped down from the platform. He felt an odd sort of emptiness, not even necessarily regret. Just nothingness. He was used to that feeling, it was much safer than anything remotely close to an emotion.

Suddenly he was grabbed by the arm and pulled off to a secluded corner. He hadn’t even registered the person until they were yelling at him in harsh whispers.

“Damian what the fuck was that?!” Oh, it was his boyfriend.

The dark skinned boy blinked a few times, probably more times than necessary, but he still wasn’t quite back yet. Still wasn’t quite sure what had happened. His eyes focused on Colin. He was angry, it was obvious, he was disappointed.

With focus came his emotions, back and at full force.

They hurt like a bitch.

Marientte was upset with him, he hurt her. Edna was upset with him, she was angry with him. Colin was disappointed with him. Colin was disappointed in him. “I-I’m I don’t-” Damian tried to figure out his words but everything wasn’t quite back yet, not back in focus.

“Damian you just shot that kid with a freaking arrow!” The redhead growled. “Why? Why did you do that? What the hell was that!”

“I-don’t know.” He finally managed. God, now he was the baby deer wasn’t he?

“You don’t know?” Colin hissed. “Damian you almost killed him!”

“It was just a scratch.” Defensive. He was defending himself, his actions, that’s right. Because he’d messed up, he’d slipped up. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t mean to?” Colin asked, eyes scrutinizing. “Damian you aimed, you shot, you hit him.” His jaw was set. “Why? Why did you do that? What the hell Damian!”

He’d only used his full name this whole time. No nicknames, no shortening it, no pet names. It was strange, but that hurt more than Marinette’s eyes.

“I don’t know.” Damian choked. “I don’t-I didn’t mean to. Enda startled me and I just let go-my finger slipped I didn’t mean to.” He was drowning, that’s what it felt like. Colin was so angry at him. He had never seen Colin angry at him quite like this. Though, typically, when Damian hurt people, far past the point that he should have, it was a very bad man. Sometimes Colin even helped him.

“I didn’t mean to.” Damian whispered, eyes falling to the floor.

He should apologize, shouldn’t he? Yes, say he was sorry for hurting the model. He should apologize to Colin and Marinette and Enda. So they wouldn’t be hurt or angry or disappointed any more. But the problem with him wanting to apologize was that he could never get the words out.

Colin sighed, turning away from Damian. His head shook as he began walking away. He was still angry and hurt and disappointed. And Damian still couldn’t breath or focus right. He was in trouble, his father would be upset. Everyone was upset.

He headed for the changing rooms as quickly as possible. He needed to be out of this environment. He needed to be somewhere else.

He needed to breath.

…

Well, today was just going swimmingly.

First Damian got woken up and torn away from his warm and cuddly boyfriend. Then that distressing video. Then his cousin, who was obviously upset, wouldn’t talk to him. Then Colin stole his phone and got a brand new best friend in the form of some random french girl. Then he tried to defend his cousin’s honor, but instead got yelled at by his boyfriend and aunt and by Gabriel Agreste. And his cousin, his cousin looked so upset with him. Colin wasn’t talk to him either. He was being ignored and possibly suffered a panic attack in the changing room, but wasn’t quite sure. He’d never been good at diagnosing his own symptoms, just the symptoms of others.

And now Damian was alone, going back to his room to take Titus for a walk. He needed to blow off steam. Today had been awful. He needed to move around, be angry and sad and mostly alone, but walking Titus would help, it had to help.

The elevator opened and he began walking down the hall, but stopped when he noticed a figure in the small lobby area. The tall muscular boy leaning against the window, all his focus directed towards something outside. Damian recognized him immediately as Jon Kent.

That was the other thing.

What the hell was going on with the Justice League and the two boys’ fathers.

“You okay Kent?” The boy didn’t turn around at his name. He didn’t even respond. That wasn’t good.

Damian took several steps forward, slowly. He reached out and placed his hand on Jon’s shoulder, the boy didn’t move a muscle. “Jon?” Damian asked, voice a little softer. “Are you alright?”

“Trisha Bailey was killed last night.” His voice was emotionless, and Damian took note that the boy wasn’t wearing his glasses. “It was a hit and run.”

“Trisha Bailey?” The name sounded very familiar but it took Damian a moment to place it, when he did, his stomach dropped. “No.”

“Lex Luthor was released from prison this morning.” Jon’s face grew angrier. “No witness, no crime. Or whatever.” He spat. “Forget the fact that man had mercenaries hired to kill my mother. Forget that he planted bombs to killer. Snipers following her. Hitmen. All so she wouldn’t write a damn article.” His fists clenched against the glass window.

“Jon calm down.” Damian increased the pressure of his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Lex-” The boy’s Jaw clenched. “Lex Jr. stopped returning Conor’s calls. He also left the country late last night.” Jon’s eyes narrowed. “They can’t figure out where he went but they’re trying to track him, unsuccessfully I might add.” Jon turned away from the window and Damian. “God we were so stupid! Conor trusted him!” He banged his fist against the wall, a small dent forming.

“Jon.” Damian’s voice was a tad sterner. “You need to calm down before you break something you can’t fix.”

“What if he comes after my mom again Damian?” The boy turned around, tears in his eyes. “What if he comes after me or Conor or my dad? Kara? Grandma! He could come after any of us!”

“We won’t let him hurt any of you!” Damian tried to assure.

“What about Lena Luthor!?”

Lena Luthor? Damian didn’t know a hefty amount about her, just what was outlined in her file. She was the younger sister of Lex Luthor Senior. Slightly less evil, known for having a conscience, and eventually turned against him. She was in JLA witness protection, had been for eighteen years now.

“What about Lena?” Damian asked.

“They can’t find her Damian.” Jon let out an angry breath, resting his back against the window. “Mr. Queen went to Rome yesterday, that’s where she’s supposed to be. But he can’t find her. People are searching the whole continent of Europe. No one can find her.”

“Okay,” Damian looked to the ground trying to think. “That’s not great but her brother may not know where she is either.”

“Be real Damian.” Jon looked up at him. “I may not be smart, but I’m not dumb. And you aren’t stupid enough to believe that Jr. isn’t cozying up to his aunt right now.” His fist clenched again, Damian could see it smashing into the glass, but thankfully Jon seemed to still have some semblance of control.

“Damian the Luthors have enough kryptonite stock piled away to fuel two nuclear bombs.” The boy’s eyes suddenly looked so empty. “Lena Luthor was the only thing we had on him, along with Trisha. Now we don’t have either, and my family is his number one target.”

“Yeah well, I hate to break this to you but Batman had double that amount of kryptonite.” It was meant as a joke, but as anyone who knew him knew, Damian was bad at those. “Luthor, Luthor isn’t going to be able to pull shit. I’m sure the whole League is working on this as we speak.”

Damian walked in front of his friend, he wasn’t a hugger. Typically he wasn’t one for prolonged contact at all, save for a handful of very specific circumstances, like a warm cuddly sleeping boyfriend. But this was his friend, his perky, never not happy friend who, no matter what, was always there for him.

It was easier than he was expecting to pull the half-kryptonian into a tight hug. “We will figure this out.” Damian whispered. “I swear Jon, I won’t let him hurt you or your family. If there’s one thing that scares the shit out of Luthors, it’s Waynes.” Jon was fully crying now, but Damian could swear he heard something along the lines of a small chuckle escape the boy’s mouth.

“I just don’t know what to do Damian.” Jon’s arms were suddenly around him, tightly hugging him back. “M-my mom, she’s staying with Dinah while Mr. Queen is in Europe. Damian I’m scared.”

“I know.” Damian wasn’t good at this, comforting wasn’t what he was good at. He was good at getting even, at defending people he cared about, at pissing people off and arguing his point. “Do you remember that ridiculous thing you always tell me?”

“N-no.” He sniffled.

“Good always triumphs over evil, right?”

The Kansan let out a stronger laugh. “Right.” He was still crying, but he was still laughing too. “Good always wins.”

“Well we’re good. And they’re evil.” Damian hugged his friend a little tighter. “So that means that everything is going to be fine. Jon I promise.” Even as Damian said the words he couldn’t help the thought that crossed his mind. “Everything will be fine.” Famous last words.

_______________________________________________________________________

(part 1) (part 2) (part 2.5) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8) (part 9) (part 10) (part 11) (part 12) - Here (part 13)

Photoshoot Part 4! Y'all I don't know what happened. I sat down to study for finals last night and instead turned on Hamilton and cranked this mess out. Anyway, Dash is finally here and I love him. But he’s also the worst, hence why he isn’t a prominent Character in this fic, but who knows, maybe he’ll show back up at some point. So a lot of what I was excited for at the end of part 11 actually isn't’ in this. It started getting really long so I had to chop it in half. Hopefully part 13 will come just as quickly as this part did. And hopefully I can actually get some studying done before my test tomorrow. I hope you all enjoyed this part as much as I did writing it! Please leave comments! I love reading everyone's thoughts on the chapters, they always make me smile. Like comments, I have discovered, can change my whole outlook on a day. And I could seriously use some positivity heading into my finals! As always if you have any questions about the story or AU feel free to ask, I love getting them and will happily answer any question you got (even if it’s not about this AU)! And if you want to be tagged let me know!

Also for future reference in this fic, the version of Lena Luthor that I am using for my writing is the character Tess Mercer from Smallville.

@graduatedmelon @northernbluetongue @violatiger8 @bamagirl513 @vixen-uchiha @beaversuenightly @tumbling-down-hills-and-stuff @todaylillypads @laurakinneylance @vgirl-10123 @wellcrud-blog-blog @silvergold-swirl @crazylittlemunchkin @an-ahez @queencommonsense @ladybug-182 @meganemily231 @driftingmoonlitpetals @kand-roo @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @theatreandcomicfreak @paradoxal-occurance @miraculousl4dybug @thanks-captain-obvious @sassydepression @multishipper1needshalp @wegan97 @surprisebishhhhhhhhh @redscarlet95 @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @synnesstra @fandomkitty8 @tired-yeetling @saluteswifties @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @dast218 @naclychilli @royalchaoticfangirl @panda3506 @nataladriana9 @shreky-boi @my-name-is-michell @dawnwave16 @thethirdwheelfriend @quiet-oracle @heaven428 @dabub167 @kris-pines04 @severelyenchantedwonderland @urbanpineapplefarmer @goblinwhoships

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carryonmywaywardwriters · 5 years

Text

Jail Bait - Dean x Reader

A/N: Have a personal favorite of mine back. As always, feedback is incredible. And, I hope you all enjoy <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Warnings: PWP. Kinda public sex. Eavesdropping guard. Dry humping. Dirty talk. Talk of masturbation. Bit of praise!Kink. Unprotected sex. I believe that is all.

Word Count: Roughly 3,300

“Wait in here.” The guard stated, closing the door to the claustrophobic room behind you. An echoing clang was loud enough to make you jump. Your eyes took in the setting that held your teeth on edge.

There was a small cot resting in the corner. A tiny, half destroyed nightstand held a lamp that carried a dust-riddled top. Inside was a bulb that flickered every thirty seconds. No natural light was allowed in. Cool, white, chipped brick walls surrounded you. Caging you in.

“There you are,” Only Dean Winchester could rumble quite like that as the door squeaked heavily. The sound made you turn back to see him just as he shoved the jacket he carried at the officer at the door. Your eyes glued onto the way he swaggered into the cage with that familiar bowlegged gait no one else could quite pull off. “Lookin' prettier than ever.”

He'd only been gone for a day. Yet, somehow, he seemed even taller than you'd remembered. Maybe because he isn't next to his brother.

The thought faded away as he approached. Giving you an even closer look. His deep green eyes were reminiscent of a summer forest in the low light. The dim setting hid his freckles that dusted over his nose. All the ends of his hair were normally lighter from all the exposure to the sun being a hunter gave him. But, in that room, even that was darker than ever despite remaining in the spiked fashion he'd adopted. It brought out the deep red of the cut along his cheek bone. Emphasizing the lifestyle he led. The shadows over his lightly stubbled jaw made it seem sharper. His lips were the lone point of him that seemed soft. Only the orange suit he wore was bright, and stretched against his broad form in a way that brought forward carnal thoughts.

For the first time, you saw what anyone else might have when they looked at him. He really was dangerous. “H...hi.”

“Hi, yourself.” The white of his teeth flashed with the unsavory grin he sent your way. “We're gonna be a while, Jax.”

“Jax?” Your brow lifted. Looking at the man you'd known for years in amazement. He didn't look worse for ware. Instead, he pea-cocked forward. A little too comfortable for your liking.

Then, those words sunk in. Settling over you like a threat. It was only supposed to be a delivery. Yet, somehow he expected more time to be spent in the cell.

“We're friends.” A loud guff from outside sounded. Proving the officer could hear what was being said outside of the room. “Kinda.” The hunter you knew took another step forward. You faltered backwards without realizing it. Until his lips curled up even further at the action. He paused, then. Taking in everything your body language was screaming. “You scared of me, sweetheart?”

“N...No,” But, part of you was.

It was the tension he carried. That hungry look in his eye. You two had been dancing around the heat between you for as long as you could remember. And the thought that it was all going to come to an end point in that conjugal room? Utterly nerve wracking.

“Good,” His voice was honey as he took another step forward. You told yourself to hold still. To not give into what the ambiance of the room demanded you do: run. Somehow you managed it. Even when his large, thick hand gripped the back of your neck as he stepped toe to toe with you. “Miss me?”

“Dean-”

Before you could tell him to drop the act, his warm, soft lips slanted across yours. Stealing the breath from your lungs. You moved to pull away in surprise, but his grip at the base of your skull kept you in place.

“He's listening in,” The words were murmured against you softly. Just barely separating from your mouth. Another firmer touch was your reward for not giving him away. His nose's tip pressed into your cheek as his chest moved closer. The other strong arm wrapped around you to hold you in place. “Did you bring what I asked for?” You nodded, the action brushing your lips against his again. Sending a small shiver down your spine.

“Cigarettes and salt,” Your purse was lowered from your shoulder gently as you whispered. Instead of getting into it, Dean dropped it to the ground. Never taking his gaze from your eyes. “I thought-”

“I'll get to those, later.” There was no nervousness as he leaned forward so slightly. Just enough to give you that sweet pressure, again. His eye lashes brushed against your skin as you responded unsurely. Wanting to lean into his touch, but the unaware piece of you held you back. “For now?” A low whimper left you when he pulled back, again. “What'd ya say we take advantage of this?”

It took a moment to understand what he was saying, “You set this up on purpose.” The low hiss didn't make it far. Your hands shoved at his shoulders to move him away. The smug jerk didn't even have to take a step back at the force. Too strong and solid to be cowed by an angry female. “Why?”

“Why not?” You found yourself retreating as he moved forward. Your body made it all of two steps before you tripped over your own feet. Instead of letting you fall backwards, you were hauled up against his broad chest, again. Held there by a force he'd gained by making heads roll. Literally. “I see the way you look at me, Y/N. If we would've gotten to be alone before now? I'd've had you on your back faster than you could blink.”

His words shouldn't have made a warm, sharp jolt of arousal shoot down to your loins. But, they did. And that son of a bitch knew it.

“We're not really alone.” The out was there. Or, so you thought. His filthy, shit eating grin promised you that he wasn't fazed by the officer's presence.

“He isn't going to ever see us, again, when this is all over.” His low timbre vibrated through his body, against you. “Who gives a shit what he hears.” You should have leaned backwards when he moved in to nip at your ear lobe. Instead, you found yourself gliding into the magnetic pull of him. Had you really thought you could resist Dean Winchester when he turned it on full blast? It was a mistake you silently promised yourself you'd never make again. He was far more potent than you'd given him credit for. “In fact, I hope he listens in. Hears what he's never going to have.” Slowly, he loosened his grip. Seeing if you'd try and escape again. You didn't. Those sinful lips of his drug upwards as he looked over at you. “Wanna help me make him jealous, sweetheart?” Your nails pressed against the prison garb he wore as a shaky breath snaked its way from your lips. “Wanna finally feel me fill that sweet little pussy of yours? Like you've thought about during all those long...steamy showers?”

“How- You listened in!” The outrage didn't have a chance to manifest as he sucked against the sensitive slope of your neck.

“Fuck yeah, I did.” He chuckled. Voice somehow deeper. The strength of it was enough to make your knees weak. “You ever listen to me?”

“N...No,” The stutter gave you away. You had. The broken, small gasps he'd released in the room when he'd thought you were sleeping had haunted you. But, you hadn't realized it had been you he'd been picturing as he'd pumped himself.

“Liar,” Dean called you out on it. Losing every bit of patience he'd ever carried. His hands lifted up to pull at the off the shoulder baby-doll top you'd worn to look less like a hunter, and more like the good girl that had been seduced by a bad boy. If only you'd realized that's exactly what was going to happen in that tiny room. “Did you think about me doing this?” The smooth slope of your breasts came into view as he talked. “Did ya get wet thinking 'bout it?” Then his hot mouth was on the skin he'd exposed. The open mouthed kiss made you arch towards him. Any resistance you'd had was gone. He owned your body in that moment.

“Yes.” Anyone who said honesty never paid off hadn't met Dean. You were pushed backwards until you were back against the cot. Left with the cooling damp patch he'd placed on your skin while the top he wore was tugged up and over his head.

It wasn't the first time you'd seen him shirtless. You had stitched him up more times than you'd cared to count using floss and a sewing needle. The jagged scars were more familiar to you than they'd be to him. But, it was the first time you'd seen him shirtless and on the prowl. Eyes darkening in anticipation as he took in the position he'd put you in.

“Take your shirt off, Y/N.” Slowly, you sat up. It wasn't hard to do what that deep voice ordered. Pulling the dainty material away from your skin was the easiest task you'd been given in ages. You watched the way his nostrils flared as he took in your bare breasts. In the end, you weren't sure if it was the cool air or that heave of his strong body at the sight that caused your nipples to harden without a touch. “Jeans,” He nodded towards the stylishly ripped pants that covered your lower body.

You kicked away the socks and shoes before doing as told. When you slid them down your legs, Dean swallowed audibly. The material clung close enough that you'd had to don a thin thong to prevent lines.

As a reward for your obedience, he shoved his own pants down. Leaving him in the black boxers he was known to sleep in when he stepped out of the telling orange. Only this time, the thick bulge you'd only caught glimpses of was stretching the material. Full and proud down a considerable length of the left thigh. Making it all that much more real.

“Are you gonna keep staring...or are you gonna give me what you promised?” The breathy challenge was all he needed to crawl onto the creaky bed you rested on while you spread yourself out over the blanket. His skin rubbing against yours was electric as he caged you in place with his weight.

Dean's kiss was more desperate that time. Teeth and tongues clashed as the need that had been ignored for so long came to a head. He slotted his hips between your thighs. Your hands wrapped into his short hair. His thick erection swelled impossibly larger against your core as he ground in. The thin pieces of fabric doing nothing to halt the warm friction.

As the coil inside of your belly tightened, his steady rocking increased a bit. The hard point of your sensitive nipples were rubbed by his pectorals as he moved. Your nails that slid across the roughed up flesh above you dug in every so often. Admiring the way the muscles gave, and then strained into your grip as you urged him on. Needing more.

The first time should have been slow. Tender, even. That's what every romance novel promised it was like after a long, slow burn. Nothing with Dean was ever that predictable. Instead, the way he pressed against your slit had you pushing over that first edge in no time.

You cried out in pleasure against his mouth as you clenched around nothing, “Shit, Y/N? Already?”

“It's your fault,” The whine left you as he helped you ride it out. Feeling the dampness of your arousal seep through the ruined panties right onto his boxers. Your cheeks were warm as you looked up at that smug face. A bit of sweat dotted your hairline from the sudden orgasm. “Shut up, Winchester.”

Your hand wrapped around the base of his neck so that you could pull him back down to you. He laughed against your lips in triumph while you grunted; trying to shove his boxers down his hips. Needing him inside of you that very moment.

“So impatient,” Dean murmured, pressing sweet kisses onto your mouth as he helped you on your mission. “It's fucking sexy.” The material went flying across the room before he tugged at your panties. Sending them in the same direction over his shoulders. Instead of ramming into you like you expected, he paused. “Jesus,” The calloused tips of his fingers traced over the swollen and soaked slit you presented him with. “So fucking wet for me.”

“I...I told you.” Your knees widened, letting him get a better view when he peaked downwards. Your palm rubbed over your breast as you sought out more friction. “Dean...I need you inside of me. Please?”

His groan wasn't the only one you heard. The peeping guard let out his own sound of pain. Somehow, you didn't find it in you to care.

“Come here,” The hunter lifted your ankle, and guided it up to his shoulder. Spreading you wider. “The other one, too.” His low, convincing tone held you captive. Following his order with an ease that should have scared you. This was Dean. The man you'd known since you were a kid. And he was about to fuck you senseless. “Good girl,” He praised, making your body melt further as your thighs strained. When you felt the hot tip of him nudge at your entrance, he grinned. “Like that?” You nodded at the hint of a stretch. You'd like it better if he'd snap into you further. Almost as if he could read your mind, he pushed forward. Giving you more of that fullness he'd promised. “How 'bout that, baby?”

“Fuck yes,” Your head rocked back as you moaned wantonly. Not caring how far your voice echoed. You wanted to move your hips. Wanted to him to bottom out inside of you right then and there. But, in the position he held you in, you could only grip at his ribs and try to urge him into what you needed.

“You're so tight like this,” His teeth gritted as he pulled out of your hold almost all the way. Only to slide right back in. A little deeper that time. Marveling at the way you sheathed his dick. “Hear that? Your pussy taking me?” The pornographic squish of his body pressing into you filled the air. “Fuck,” His head dropped when you clutched around him desperately. “You're so fucking perfect.”

Finally, he lowered his forehead the rest of the way down to yours. His breath fluttered over your face as he pinched the pine gaze shut. Parting his lips as he let you take him fully.

Your own eyes squeezed shut at the pleasure of it. How he throbbed so deeply inside of you. Dean's little breathy groan filled the air when you tightened your hold. Silently begging him to let loose.

The room didn't stay quiet long. You let out a strangled shout when he started picking up speed. His arms were ramrod straight as he gripped the mattress around your head. Bracing to get better leverage so that his thrusts could get harder. The angle shoving the tip of him against your cervix in a way that felt so good it almost hurt. He rubbed against your g-spot as if he'd mapped it out in advanced.

Dean's voice cracked as he talked you through it. Letting you know how good you felt. Just how much he liked the way you sounded, calling his name in that blissed out way. Choked groans mixing into the fray. Only becoming more frequent with each thrust. Losing himself in the hold your body surrounded him with.

Sweaty skin smacked together. His balls hit your ass. The cot creaked, and smashed into the wall at the force of Dean's hips rocking into the back of your thighs. Outside the door, Jax was getting a hell of a show.

“Dean...fuck! Don't...oh, god! Don't...don't stop.” You whined as you clawed up to his shoulders. Needing for him to let you get that high that was waiting impatiently inside of you. Your body tensed as he managed to brace himself on one arm. Reaching between your bodies to rub circles around your swollen clit. “D...Dean!” That was all it took for you to spiral.

He didn't slow. Fucking into your spasming channel faster. Sloppier, even, as he felt himself getting close. One thrust. Two. By the third, he lost it. Stiffening as he rocked forward. His orgasm sending the hot cum into your still quivering body.

“Fuck,” He growled out at the sensation of you milking him for all he was worth.

Once he could, Dean pulled away gently. Letting your legs fall bonelessly to the bed as you tried to steady your breathing. He wasn't any better. Face flushed, hair mused, and sweaty from all the work he'd put in.

“Remind me not to fall into any more traps. I don't think I can move,” Your arm dropped over your eyes. Too tired to appreciate the eye porn in front of you.

“Ten minutes,” A ragged sounding Jax warned from outside the door. You groaned at the thought of moving so soon.

“Get up, sweetheart. We'll spoon later.” Dean leaned back over you. The kiss he delivered was sweeter that time. Soft, even. Then, he swatted your thigh. Ruining it. “I'm keeping your panties. A souvenir. Something to get me through the cold nights, alone.”

Your eyes rolled. Knowing that he'd be out within two nights, according to the plan. But, you didn't call him on it as you forced yourself upwards. Feeling the burn he'd caused in your muscles.

“Whatever it takes,” You huffed out with another groan. He grinned in satisfaction at the noise as you dressed. Just as you tucked the goods into Dean's pockets, the door opened.

“Alright, break it up, you two.” The grumpy man ordered, tapping his baton in his hand as a warning. Looking more than a little frustrated from what he'd had to endure.

When your eyes lowered, you saw the problem. You wasted no time booking it out of there. Ignoring Dean's laugh as you moved.

“What's so funny?” Jax demanded as Dean shrugged into his jacket.

“That girl...” A low whistle left the still kiss swollen pink lips. “I think I'm gonna have to break out to give her a night she really deserves.” At the unimpressed look, he didn't stop. Focusing on the bounce of your ass as you moved away. “Man, I am freaking velvety smooth.”

“Yeah...you're a real prince.” The guard huffed out. “Get out of here.”

“Will do,” Dean grinned, moving back towards the cell block. Eagerly awaiting the reunion that was coming.

If you thought he'd keep his hands to himself after that, you were wrong. Poor Sammy was gonna have to start bunking, alone. If he didn't? Well, Dean decided that he might just have to get back into prison for a few nights, after all...

Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon @supernaturalginger

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fourangers · 4 years

Text

Kakashi’s exposé

Dedicated to @rivaille-plisetsky that suggested the prompt:

Post-War shenanigans with Kakashi being the only one with knowledge of their relationship

So here it is! I hope you’ll like it. SNS, with a tiny bit one-sided Sakura --> Sasuke, and sex insinuations. Comedy and it’s a lil to the side of crack.

AO3 link

==.==.==

Somehow, some way, it just clicked. Maybe it was due to exhaustion, or Sakura's confession still fresh in his mind but Kakashi witnessed the way Sasuke was looking at his best friend/rival/nemesis, how affection warmed his black eyes mixed with longing and burning intensity and it was just…oh. Oh. OoooooOooH.

Everything made sense now. It's no wonder he was so desperate to cut off his bonds with Naruto and why it brought him so much pain to do so.

Kakashi just stood mildly shocked as his eyes followed his previous students' behavior, from Sakura's relieved smile, Naruto's wide beam and Sasuke's gaze constantly trained towards the blond nin.

Ah…to be young and naive.

⏤.⏤

Kakashi had a hard time feigning surprise when he saw both boys tucked together, blissfully sleeping on the small bed at the hospital. Sakura, on the other hand, was so happy about Sasuke's return that she didn't connect the dots yet.

The next few months was a cumbersome process of finding solid proofs about the Uchiha's massacre tying with Konoha's higher office corruption, since the elders were eager to throw Sasuke in jail while he was still recuperating from his wounds. Fortunately Naruto called Shikamaru for help as they searched in the archives with Tsunade's permission.

Soon enough all the guilty were charged for conspiracy in ethnic cleansing and thrown behind bars. Sasuke also spent some time in jail for multiple attempts of murder against the 5 kages, but thankfully due to his contributions in ending the latest ninja war and Naruto’s constant nagging with Tsunade, he was set free.

Naruto and Kakashi both expected that Sasuke would bolt out of Konoha the second he was unchained. However, much to their puzzled astonishment, the last Uchiha had decided to settle down. He even took the chuunin exams with Naruto as some sort of proof that he desired to get back being a Konoha citizen. As if there was something(someone) that rooted him to the ground.

When Sasuke reached 18 years old, Kakashi gifted him a special Icha Icha book with prim pride.

Sasuke glanced at the title, glared his ex-teacher with his face bright red, and promptly hid when they noticed Naruto’s chakra close by. Several comrades joined in afterwards, some were part of the rookie nine, other were Sasuke’s current teammates, all gathered to celebrate his birthday.

Through the course of that night, wherever Sasuke would go, Ino and Sakura were on his toes once again, vying for his attention. It was a confusing realization for Kakashi, that even if Sakura was now an accomplished medic-nin and jounin, she would revert to her pre-teen self once Sasuke was around. Kakashi simply observed in between sips of sake while Sakura fussed over Sasuke with her doe-eyed expression, and Sasuke tolerated her presence with the smallest furrow on his handsome face. Black eyes flickered towards Naruto’s back, before he exhaled a heavy sigh, calling Sakura much to Ino’s annoyance.

On the next day, the news about Sasuke and Sakura dating was the talk of the whole town. Or rather, how Sakura was running behind her beloved wherever they go, emerald eyes glimmering like a little girl winning the affection of her idolized popular boy.

This is bizarre; Kakashi concluded watching the one-sided interactions. Those youngsters were just too much for him sometimes.

Naruto swore that he welcomed this new development with open arms, really, like…really. He’d accept no one else but Sasuke, if he was going to lose Sakura’s hand to another man. But Kakashi could notice the tightness of his grins whenever team 7 would reunite, but whether he was jealous over Sakura or Sasuke, no one would ever know.

Months have passed and Sasuke was slowly entering a dangerous territory, returning to his personal darkness that few could reach. Maybe it was due to Sakura’s impatience that their relationship got stuck since day one, or how she finally broke the illusion that her idol was just a regular man, so she was currently much more content spending her time with Ino nowadays. Maybe it was because his friendship with Naruto was becoming strained over the days. Maybe the Hyuuga’s heiress bold approach towards his best friend was grating Sasuke’s nerves.

Kakashi sighed. They were so much cuter back when they were little genins.

But Kakashi was; he hoped, wiser now. The accumulated experience he built up all over those years brought him a wider scope about how he should handle human emotions and its complexities. He wouldn't make the same mistake he had done before, unlike last time when he failed talking some sense to pre-teen Sasuke.

He stood up, hopping on the direction towards Naruto’s house.

⏤.⏤

One year later…

Konohamaru cleared his throat, knocking on the door. He heard grumbles, quiet steps and then the door was pried open with a pair of glaring eyes.

He gulped. “Good morning. Is Naruto-niichan nearby?”

Sasuke thinned his lips, turning around. “Cooking breakfast.”

Konohamaru gave a brisk nod, striding towards the kitchen and being greeted by Naruto’s wide gin.

“Hey Konohamaru! ‘Sup?”

“Naruto-niichan! It’s your first day in the Hokage’s apprenticeship, are you excited?”

“Sure am! Man, can’t believe that Tsunade-baachan is going to pass the torch to me, I thought for sure they were going to choose Kakashi-sensei that⏤”

“Oh? Talking about me?”

Konohamaru and Naruto shrieked when they heard Kakashi’s sudden chime, Sasuke stood leaning on the wall unimpressed.

The older man said. “Ah, here I was coming here to congratulate my former protegée, and all I hear is Naruto-kun talking behind my back. You’re hurting my fragile heart.”

“Can’t you knock on the door like a regular person? You almost gave me a heart attack dammit.” Naruto complained, rubbing his chest.

“Another reason why I’m questioning Konoha’s decision to make you the next Hokage. I assumed the prerequisite for such an important job was to master basic moves like noticing someone’s chakra when they are close by, dumbass.” Sasuke scoffed.

“Say what, you asshole⏤”

“As much as I’d love to get down the memory lane watching you boys bicker, I’m here to give you a gift, Naruto.” Kakashi placed several books on the table. “My entire Icha Icha collection. All signed by Jiraiya-sama.”

Naruto stared wide-eyed once the information sank in, picking up one book as if it was the most precious thing in the world. He leafed through pages, smiling fondly when he read Jiraiya’s message. They let Naruto take his time browsing through the books, even Sasuke curbed his usual teasing barb too.

The Uchiha nin seemed to realize something, coughing. “Well, since Kakashi already gave you his present, I suppose I should also give you mine.”

Naruto’s eyes were narrowed and suspicious. “And what exactly you’re gonna give me, bastard?”

Sasuke smirked, throwing his arm around Naruto’s shoulder and directing to their bedroom. “You’ll enjoy it, for sure.”

Konohamaru and Kakashi watched as Naruto was dragged by Sasuke. Konohamaru muttered. “Well, I guess I’ll wait here until they are done. I was also gonna give Naruto-niichan my gift.”

Oh. “Ooooh, there’s no need for you to wait this long Konohamaru-kun. You can give him once we’re in Konoha’s headquarters.”

“What? I can wait a little, I mean⏤”

Kakashi patted the younger nin’s shoulder as he hurried them to the exit. “I have a feeling they are going to take a while, so we better go.”

Several months had passed and Naruto was beginning to get used to the hectic schedule of being Tsunade’s apprentice. The assistants were also smoothly adapting with his working style too, most comfortable with his friendliness.

The rare exceptions were when Naruto’s best friend would go to a long term mission, and the sunny personality will cloud to a petulant pout.

“Naruto.” Everyone jumped startled from the familiar baritone voice, swiveling their heads to see Sasuke perched on the window.

Naruto instantly brightened up, turning back to face their assistants as he declared. “Hey guys! Sasuke is here so I’m gonna go ok, ‘s gonna be really quick I swear. Be right back, be right back!” Both Naruto and Sasuke disappeared in a cloud of poof.

The assistants shrugged, some even rolled his eyes while they resumed their work.

⏤.⏤

How odd it was that whenever Sasuke was around though, Naruto would always blink out of their eyes. For someone who wore neon orange outfit and had bright golden hair in midst of an ocean of dark heads, Naruto could disappear without an effort.

Saeko rubbed her shoulders while she searched the aforementioned blond nin, seeking his signature. She’s way past her prime to be able to find a strong shinobi like Naruto-kun.

Fortunately for her, she spotted Kakashi from afar, calling him. “Kakashi-kun!”

Kakashi acknowledged her with a nod.

“Have you seen Naruto-kun? I really need his signature to authorize a new mission.” She sighed.

Kakashi chuckled. “Well…in case you can’t see him, I guess you could look around and try to find Sasuke instead.”

“Ah right…Uchiha-kun right.” Saeko shook her head. “They are almost attached to the hip.”

“Right.”

“Such a beautiful friendship between those two boys, right?”

Kakashi stared the old lady before settled with a hum.

“They need to settle down and find a good ladies in their lives though.” She quipped with chiding tone. “Why are they taking so long to get married, I wonder. Youngsters those days are in no hurry to build a family, they are exactly like that Yamanaka girl; living with her best friend Haruno-chan.”

Kakashi hummed absentmindedly once again.

Almost as if he was reading their minds, Sasuke exited the toilet in front of them, licking his lips as his finger wiped his mouth.

“Ah, Uchiha-kun!” Saeko tightened her steps, approaching him. “Have you seen Naruto-kun anywhere?”

Sasuke glanced at her back, then gazed Kakashi’s amused eyes, shrugging. “Behind me.”

“Behind y⏤?” Lo and behold, the future Hokage opened the door a little breathless and disheveled, hand combing through his golden hair.

His cheeks were tinged red but he soon recomposed himself when he saw the old lady. “Oh hey, Saeko-san, Kakashi-sensei! Why are you⏤”

“Naruto-kun, you’re going to be the death of this old woman, I swear!” Saeko interrupted him, shoving the papers on his face. “I know that Uchiha-kun is your best friend but do you really need to have him next to you 24/7?”

“I’m sure that Naruto-kun would happily perform his tasks as the Hokage apprentice, normally…” Kakashi muttered. “But I guess Sasuke just missed him too much.”

Sasuke glared, rolling his eyes. “I’ll see you soon Naruto.”

Saeko concluded that their friendship is really one of a kind, watching Uchiha-kun’s back as Naruto was signing her papers. Gossip around town said that a female shinobi might disrupt such cozy relationship, even though Sasuke kept turning down every date request. There was a bet about which man would find a girlfriend first, however, Kakashi almost zeroed his bank account with the belief that his former students wouldn’t find any girl whatsoever.

Every female shinobi dedicated their time to seduce either the last Uchiha or the future of Hokage of Konoha. This also meant that they were thinning Sasuke’s very limited patience, their constant pestering wouldn’t give them some time for themselves.

⏤.⏤

“Naruto-niichan! Wow, you lucky dog!” Konohamaru chirped when he spotted his friend in the corridor, punching the tanned arm playfully. “I can’t believe this⏤!”

“Believe what, Konohamaru?” Naruto questioned.

“Haven’t you heard? Tomoko Saiyuri, the most gorgeous woman of all Konoha is actually going to ask you on a date!”

“He’s not interested.” Sasuke grunted.

“Oh, c’mon Sasuke-niichan, I know you might be sore because she chose Naruto-niichan instead of you, but there’s no way Naruto-niichan wouldn’t be interested because⏤”

“But he’s not interested, he’s not available, he won’t do anything with her.” Sasuke hissed.

“Uh, yeah…Konohamaru, why would I be interested?” Naruto squinted his eyes puzzled. “I’m honored, honestly, but where did you get the idea I would⏤”

“You know that this is your fault right.” Sasuke snapped towards Naruto.

“What?” Naruto grumbled.

“You give too many openings, people are still thinking you’re available.”

“Uh…wait, Naruto-niichan, does that mean you’re actually seeing someone⏤?”

“Wait, don’t put the blame on me, asshole. Where in the hell did I show that I’m available?”

“Well, you’re such an oblivious dumbass, that you wouldn’t realize yours and anyone’s feelings even if it’s right under your nose.” Sasuke muttered under his breath. “Maybe this is the reason why everyone is also blind about us.”

Naruto stared for a while with his jaw slacked, before blurting out. “We live together, I thought everyone knew.”

“Most think we’re just roommates, some still believe that you’re guarding me while I’m on house arrest.”

“What? We share a bed.”

“They think we didn’t find a good house with two bedrooms.”

Konohamaru interjected tentatively. “Um, Naruto-niichan, what exactly are you talking about⏤?”

Naruto however, couldn’t listen to him, blue eyes still trained towards Sasuke. “I don’t get it, we haven’t seen anyone else so far ever since we decided to live together, I thought⏤”

Sasuke sighed. “They think we’re just taking our time to find a girl to settle down.”

Naruto nodded numbly, scratching his head. “Oh. Is that why Momiji-san wanted to cook me some obento?”

Sasuke grunted, his glare darkening. “And you almost fell for it, hook line and sinker.”

Naruto gazed back, studying the Uchiha’s activated Sharingan. Everyone was staring with growing confusion until Naruto snorted. “Are you jealous Sasuke-chan?” He laughed.

“No, absolutely not.” Sasuke promptly defended himself, raising his chin. “I’m staking my claim, that is all, since someone else is not making any effort over this relationship.”

“Awwww⏤you’re really jealous!” Naruto grinned.

“I’m not jealous, usuratonkachi, I just feel like you should have made everything clear to everyone so I can avoid all those troublesome harpies and⏤” When Sasuke saw the determined blue eyes, he tensed but all of a sudden, Naruto grabbed him and hoisted over his shoulder. "Naruto, what the hell are you doing, I swear I'm going to fry your sorry ass if you⏤Naruto⏤!" The door slammed shut.

Then, silence. All ninjas on the vicinity didn’t know whether they should intervene whatever skirmish because Naruto was going to be the Hokage, but still, since he’s the future Hokage, he didn’t need anyone to defend him, right?

Their thought process was interrupted when he heard a moan. But not any moan, it was specifically Sasuke’s moan. Every face was colored red. As the moans and groans were increasing in speed and volume, the shade of their blushes were darkening, and everyone froze on the spot.

A constant thumping noise joined in, eliminating whatever doubt they might had out of the window, in concern with the activity they were doing in the Hokage’s office. The banging grew faster and louder, that at this point everyone in the building could hear it out.

A guttural scream ripped from Naruto’s voice, that made all women fan to themselves and all men shuffle uncomfortably. Another pregnant silence reigned in the building, until Naruto opened the door beaming ear to ear, holding Sasuke’s hand while the latter was scowling, limping his steps.

“So!” Naruto proclaimed cheerfully. “As you can see, Sasuke and I are unavailable for any possible dates at the present and future moment. We’re pretty busy screwing each other, after all.”

“I am screwing you next time, usuratonkachi.” Sasuke grumbled darkly.

Naruto chortled, unaffected by his threat. “He’s so sweet right. I can’t ask for any better boyfriend.”

Sasuke kicked his legs. Naruto retaliated by slapping hard his back. As their skirmish was growing more violent, everyone scurried away from the couple.

Those two are insane.

(Kakashi later appeared in Konoha’s headquarters, ready to collect his money from the bet. It’s more than enough to secure a very nice retirement. The news about Naruto and Sasuke’s relationship reached to Tsunade’s ears but she was wholly unimpressed. She did punch her protegée to seven foot below ground for soiling her office though.)

#NaruSasu #SasuNaru #snstext #sn fic #drabble #snsourced #nssourced #a lil bit of lemon

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thetravelerwrites · 5 years

Text

Johnny (Cowboy Minotaur) Pt. 1

Rating: Orange Relationship: Male Human/Male Minotaur Additional Tags: Exophilia, Reader-Insert, Monster Lover, Interspecies Relationship, Male Reader, Male Monster, Gay Reader, Gay Monster, Post Gold Rush, 1860's California, Cowboys, Cowboy Minotaur Words: 3349

Another commission for @severedreamerbeard. The reader is called to a boomtown by his uncle, who is the mayor, to be the new deputy for the sheriff. It doesn't take long for him to realize the stern, stoic sheriff is hiding a secret. Please reblog and leave feedback!

*Note: Bláithín is pronounced "Blaw-heen."

The Traveler's Masterlist

September, 1866. The California gold rush had ended more than ten years ago, but people continued to move out there in the hopes of finding their fortune. As such, small towns popped up all over the west faster than the census could keep up. Your uncle was the mayor in one such town and had written you a letter asking you to come out to help.

A rabble of undesirables had made camp just outside of town, and there wasn’t enough lawmen in the fledgling town of Redington to keep them at bay. He knew from letters with your father that you’d had a tough time adjusting to life in the city after living on a farm for most of your life, so he asked if you’d be interested in coming out to be the deputy for the newly-appointed sheriff, John.

He warned you in his letter that the sheriff was gruff and taciturn with more muscle than charm, having been a lawman for more than fifteen years already. He was a minotaur, which actually put you at ease; you’d worked with minotaurs on the farm before.

After writing back to inform your uncle that you’d accepted the job, you packed your belongings, bid farewell to the few friends you’d made while in the city, and caught a train west.

The train didn’t go right to the town, so you’d had to hire a stagecoach to take you the rest of the way.

“It’s gon’ be a rough trip,” the grizzled coachman said. “We’ll be runnin’ through them ol’ boys territory, unless yer wantin’ go the long way, which is another day’s ride and is gon’ cost you another five dollars.”

“You got a gun?” You asked him.

He snorted and pulled a hidden six shooter and a four-chamber Colt revolver from his vest.

You nodded. “We’ll be takin’ the short way, then.”

He shrugged as if to say your funeral and jerked his chin, indicating it was time to go, and you threw your bags into the coach and followed behind.

About two hours into the ride, your heard a loud whistle and the horses shied, bringing the coach to a standstill. From the window, you could see about four men on horses, leaning over their pommels with guns in hand. None were larger than a .36 or a .44, and most were single shooters.

“Whatcha’ got in there, Earlie?” One of the men said.

“Some city-slicker too cheap to pay for the long way,” The coachman said dispassionately. “Ain’t worth much by my reckonin’, and I ain’t got nothing fer ya neither, Lloyd, so git.”

“Let’s get him out here, then,” Lloyd said. “Have a chat with ‘em.”

The coachman sighed and thumped the roof. “What say you, stranger?”

You took your shotgun and your gun belt out of your bags and slung it around your waist before stepping out.

“Afternoon, boys,” You said, placing your hat on your head and shouldering your shotgun. “What can I do for ya?”

The leader, Lloyd, squinted down at you. He was a dirty mess, like all in his group, but he had contrastingly white teeth that seemed to be the only thing about his appearance he cared for.

“Well, newcomer, I don’t blame you for not knowin’, but there’s a toll to pass through these parts.”

“A toll, eh?” You said, scratching your nose. “Well, I’m afraid I ain’t got no money to give you boys, but I got a job waitin’ for me in that town up ahead. I’d be happy to pay it once I’m set up.”

Lloyd clucked his tongue. “See, now, that’s a problem for us,” He said. “If we let you through without payin’, ever-body’s gon’ think it’s fine to not pay. And then how we gon’ make a livin’, huh?”

“Get an honest job and stop shakin’ folk down with phony tolls?” You suggested.

“Hey!” Lloyd shouted from his horse, making it prancing in place in agitation. “We provide a service! If it weren’t fer us, any good-for-nothing could come wanderin’ into our town.”

“Your town, huh?” You asked. “I wonder how many people in that town would agree with that statement.”

“Hey, you wanna shut your trap?” Earlie hissed. “You tryna get us shot?”

“No need,” You said with a smile, looking at the horizon. “The cavalry is comin’.”

Out in the distance, two horses were trotting up to greet you. On one was your uncle, and on the other was a large, black bison minotaur with a grim look on his face. He wore a grey shirt with a pinstripe vest and dark, sturdy trousers. He also had on a coat with loops instead of buttonholes and a large stetson with holes for his massive horns. He had two sidearms and a bandolier slung over one shoulder. His silver sheriff’s badge shown brightly in the high sunlight.

“Lloyd,” He said, nodding politely, but there was a hint of a warning in his deep, gravelly voice. “Boys. What’re y’all doin’ here?”

“Just greeting the newcomer, sheriff,” Lloyd said, smiling a blinding, disingenuous smile. “Wanted to make sure he understood how things work ‘round here.”

“My nephew, the new deputy, will learn how things work well enough without your help, Lloyd,” Uncle George said.

The smile slipped from Lloyd’s mouth, leaving a sour look on his face. “I reckon he will, then,” He said darkly. “Come on, boys. We ain’t got no more business here. For now.”

The men whooped and hollered and turned their horses, riding off in a cloud of dust.

“Good riddance,” Your uncle said, jumping down.

“Hey, Uncle George!” You said, reaching out for a hug.

George reciprocated. “Good to see you, my boy!” He held you at arms length and looked you up and down. “You’re thin! City life disagrees with you, son.”

“That, I can’t argue,” You said, grinning.

“Son, this is our sheriff, John,” Uncle George said, motioning to the large minotaur.

“Call me Johnny,” He said, shaking your hand firmly. “You handled yourself well. My last potential deputy pissed himself when Lloyd rode up on ‘im.”

You laughed loudly. “Well, I’m used to runnin’ off cattle thieves back on my pa’s farm. That Lloyd feller seems like the same sort of lowlife.”

“Hey,” The coachman said. “This is a lovely reunion and all, but you only paid for the day. You wanna sit around flappin’ yer gums, you can either pay another dollar for makin’ me wait around or I can high tail it outta here, up to y’all.”

“Hush, Earlie,” Uncle George said. “Come on, boy, get up in the coach ‘fore Earlie pitches a fit. Let’s get you to town and settled in.”

You’d been to this town once before, when your uncle, who was a wealthy man in New York, moved out here with a bunch of settlers to put the town up. You’d helped him build his house, and a few of the other houses as well, before your uncle decided you’d done enough for him and sent you home. As thanks, your uncle had left you his house in the city, but you soon found yourself out of your element and uncomfortable there. Getting the letter from your uncle had been a relief.

As soon as you got into town, the coach stopped and you retrieved your bags. Both Uncle George and Sheriff Johnny leapt off their horses and tied them to a hitching post with a water trough.

“You’re still familiar with the town, I assume?” George asked.

“Yessir,” You said.

“Well, not much has changed since you been here last, so I’ll let Johnny here take the reins and show you your job.” He slapped Johnny on the shoulder. “I’ve got some work needs doing at town hall, but I’ll meet up with you at The Sixer’s saloon later, all right?”

“Sure thing, Uncle,” You replied, shaking his hand before he walked off.

“Well, then,” Johnny said, folding his arms. “You got any experience with bein’ a lawman, kid?”

“No sir,” You said.

“But you’ve done farmwork? You look strong,” He said, looking you up and down, appraising you.

You tried not to blush. “I’m a fair hand and a good worker.”

“How’s your shot?”

“Middlin’. Better at long range.”

“That’ll do,” He said. “Lemme show you the jailhouse.”

You followed him to the jail and he opened the door. There were three cells, bare, but there were bedrolls stored on shelves in the walls of each. There was a table with two chairs, a desk full of papers, and a wanted board with a few posters on it. There was a door, which led to a bunkroom with four beds, each with it’s own side table and chest of drawers. Only one of the beds looked used; the others looked brand new.

“Take any bed you like,” Johnny told you. “There ain’t no other deputies, but in a town this small, more’n one is too many.”

“What about them boys threatenin’ the town?” You asked him, laying your bags on the bed across from Johnny’s.

Johnny snorted. “Your uncle’s over-reactin’. It’s nothing I couldn’t have handled on my own.”

“How many are there?”

“Other’n Lloyd and the boys you saw outside of town? About three or four more. Their leader is a minotaur named Randall.”

“I was under the assumption Lloyd was the leader,” You told him, surprised.

“Well, I guess that’s your first lesson, then,” Johnny said, sitting on his bunk. It creaked under his weight. “Don’t go assumin’ things. Randall likes to… supervise, I s’pose. He lets Lloyd take care of his business unless things get rowdy. Randall only likes to jump in when there’s an ass whoopin’ to be dealt. He loves any chance to prove he’s the biggest swingin’ dick on this side of the tracks.”

“Yeah, I knew a few o’ them back in my town,” You replied evenly. “Lemme guess, mean drunk?”

“Right on the money,” Johnny said. “He’s a short, stumpy, angry son of a bitch just about all the time, but more so when he drinks. And he drinks a lot. And often. Other’n that, this job ain’t so hard. Break up fights, arrest troublemakers, that sorta thing. Simple fights get a few days in a cell, assaults are a couple weeks and a fine. Anything bigger’n that goes in front of the judge. Judge Jones makes a rulin’ and we take care of the rest. We don’t hold prisoners indefinitely; long term prisoners are taken to the big house in Sacramento. We do the hangin’s here, though.”

“Have there been many hangin’s?” You asked.

“None so far,” Johnny said, taking a swig from a flask that was sitting on his bedside table. “And I aim to keep it that way.”

“Hence my arrival,” You ventured.

Johnny huffed a laugh. “No offense, kid, but I was doin’ just fine long before that uncle o’ yours got a bee in his bonnet about Randall and his boys. I didn’t ask for help, don’t think I need any help, and you comin’ here hasn’t changed my mind an inch. Just do as your told and stay outta my way, and we’ll get along just fine.”

You ducked your head sideways in acknowledgement. “Fair enough. Hopefully I won’t be sittin’ around all the time, though. I like to be movin’ and doin’.”

“There’ll be plenty for you to do, kid, don’t you be worryin’ ‘bout that,” He said, slapping both of his knees and standing abruptly. “Come on, let’s get you squared away. We’re gon’ need to get the blacksmith to fashion you a badge. You can unpack later.”

As Johnny promised, there was plenty to do, including cleaning the cells, brushing down Johnny’s horse, and mending the corral fence. If you didn’t know better, you were more of a work hand to Johnny than a deputy. You might have been annoyed by this, but it was better than city living. New York was just so damn boring and unfamiliar compared to the farm. This was all more natural to you.

Later that evening, you and Johnny met up with your uncle and an older gentleman in the Sixer’s. They were at a table playing cribbage and eating an evening meal. Uncle George bid the two of you to pull up a seat and asked the centaur barmaid to bring two more bowls of stew and some beer.

“Son, this is my good friend, Judge Herbert Jones,” Uncle George said, pointing. “You’ll be dealing with him mostly when it comes to crimes bigger than simple brawls.”

“Your Honor,” You said, shaking the older man’s hand.

“Jones is fine, boy. How old are you?” He asked.

“Twenty,” You answered.

“Old enough,” Jones said. “Welcome to town. Johnny’s been doin’ a hell of a job before now, but with Randall’s gang takin’ up residence just outside of town, we need the extra hands.”

“I respectfully disagree, Judge, but your word is, in fact, the law ‘round here, so I won’t complain,” Johnny said, leaning back as the barmaid set a his food in front of him.

“I recommended hirin’ on three deputies,” Jones said, pointing his fork at Johnny. “Be grateful you managed to talk me down to one.”

Johnny flicked his hat in acknowledgement and started eating.

“Oh, lord,” Uncle George said. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear.”

I turned to look at the saloon doors and saw Lloyd come in, followed by another minotaur. This one resembled a Shorthorn, dappled red and white, and though taller than you, he was much shorter than Johnny. One of his horns was broken. He had a sunken, sallow look about his face and he had a cob pipe sticking out of his lips. He had an open bottle of something that he took a swig from.

“Oi!” The barmaid said in a heavy Southern Irish accent. She was wearing a leather corset over a lace blouse and a red bolero jacket. Her eugenia riding hat was festooned with silk flowers and feather fascinators. Her brown horse half was unadorned, though her black tail was intricately braided. “Ya can’t be bringin’ yer own booze in my establishment, ya gobshite! ”

“Settle, Bláithín,” Johnny said, standing. “I’ll handle this.”

“Ya better, boy-o,” Bláithín said, folding her arms. “They’re already owed a baytin for bashin’ me windas. Last those mogs set foot in here, they got scuttered and run out all my punters.”

“I got it, I got it,” Johnny said, holding up his hands.

“Hey there, Sheriff,” Randall said, walking up to Johnny. With the two of them standing face-to-face, their height difference was even more pronounced. “Heard you got a new deputy from Lloyd. Made quite the impression, as I heard it.”

Johnny snorted in annoyance. “Kid,” He said flatly. “You got callers.”

You stepped forward and to Johnny’s right. “Evenin��, Lloyd,” You said, raising your hat minutely. “I’m assumin’ this must be Randall. Howdy?”

“Howdy,” Randall said slowly, looking you up and down. “He’s a strong lookin’ fella, John. Thought you liked your boys soft.”

“Shut your mouth,” Johnny said in a harsh undertone, a clear warning in his voice.

“What’s he--”

“Nothin’,” Johnny said, interrupting you. “Don’t meddle in business that don’t concern you.” His tone made it clear he was in no mood for questions.

Don’t concern me? You thought. Wasn’t Randall talking about past deputies?

Judge Jones stood up and folded his arms, looking at the scene dryly.

“Alright, boys, I think it’s time for y’all to be movin’ on,” He said.

“Now, now, Judge, we just got here,” Randall drawled.

“Bláithín’s rules are simple. No bringin’ in your own liquor, so’s I think you’d best be off.”

Randall took a long, long draw from his bottle while staring at the judge. When he was finished, he stepped in close, really close, to Johnny and whispered, “You got this town in your pocket, sheriff, but if I wanted, I could have you hanged with a snap of my fingers. I could bring a whole mob of people here and watch you dangle from a tree. You think on that ‘fore you go around tellin’ people what to do.” He backed up and turned to Lloyd. “Let’s go. We’ll be back, horse girl. Best have your best whiskey out or you regret it.”

“Go score a goat’s arse, you chancer!” She shouted at his retreating back, stamping her front hoof in agitation. They left through the swinging door, leaving silence in their wake.

Johnny was breathing hard. What Randall said had riled him up, but he was clearly struggling to maintain control. His sudden shift in temperament had completely confused you. He turned around mechanically without saying anything and sat back down at the table, continuing to eat his dinner.

“I believe it’s time to call it a night,” Uncle George said. “Interest you in a night cap at the courthouse, Herb?”

“Sounds good to me,” Jones said. “Boys,” He said, tipping his hat as he followed Uncle George out.

You turned and regarded Johnny, eating his stew as if he’d not eating in days, though he didn’t seem to be enjoying it. When he was finished, he downed his beer, threw some coins on the table, and walked out without a word.

You were going to go after him, but Bláithín stopped you.

“I wouldna bother him, buck,” she said. “John’s a solitary man. Needs his time alone.”

“What did Randall mean?” You asked.

“Even if I knew, it wouldn’t be my tale to tell, lad,” She said, wiping down the bar. “John’s a new addition to this town, only been here a month or two, brought on by the judge. Much of his past is a mystery, and he’s not exactly chatty about himself.” She rested her elbow on the bar and put her chin on her palm, sighing. “A shame, that. I’d like a crack at that buck, I’ll tell ya. Laid it on thick when he first got to town. Most of the ladies did. Handsome, stern, and stoic: who wouldn’t like that? But,” She said, straightening up. “He passed on all of us. Dedicated to his work, he said.” She went back to wiping. “Your stew’s gettin’ cold, youngster.”

You sat back down at the table with your thoughts in a roil. What on earth could Randall do to get Johnny hanged? Johnny seemed like an upright, by-the-book man, so what could Randall possibly have on Johnny that would have him so stressed?

You bought another beer to wash down your dinner and give Johnny some more alone time, then finally wandered back to the jailhouse.

When you went into the bunkroom, Johnny was either asleep or pretending to be. You didn’t bother him.

Sitting on your bunk, you began to take off your boots and belt, looking over at Johnny. He had his shirt off and was sleeping in his trousers, faced against the wall. You admired the sculpted muscles of his shoulders as they merged smoothly with the contours of his back and down. His behind filled out his trousers pretty well, leaving little to the imagination. You wondered what it looked like without…

Suddenly, it hit you like a bolt of lightning. Didn’t seem interested in any of the women, didn’t want deputies, kept to himself and didn’t talk about his past, had a secret that could get him hanged. Of course, it was obvious. Johnny was just like you.

You had been attracted to men since you could remember, and when you first told your father at age eight, he’d beaten you senseless. You found out that loving men was considered “perverse” and “indecent” and, more importantly, illegal. It wasn’t an executable offense, but lynch mobs didn’t care much about that. So you hid your true nature all your life, fending off women and keeping lovers secret, not that you’d had many.

You lay back in your bunk and stared at the ceiling, willing yourself not to ogle Johnny in the dark.

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#exophilia #minotaur #reader insert #male reader #male reader insert #male monster #mlm #interspecies relationship #commission #my writing #cowboy minotaur

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skepticalcatfrog · 4 years

Text

Among The Stars Chapter 2

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter Masterpost

Summary: Logan Watts is a famous scientist, known by almost everyone in the galaxy. His most famous invention is his friend and assistant, a healthcare android named Patton. When they are called to another planet for a meeting with the local ruler, they're expecting a completely normal trip. Little did they know, this trip would send them into a daring adventure to protect their galaxy and stop a war. Teamed up with unlikely friends, including a runaway gladiator and an infamous crime trio, Logan and Patton have to figure out how to make peace and save their universe (and beyond) from being destroyed.

Pairings: (Eventual) Logicality, Prinxiety, and Demus

Word count: 2,660

Author's Notes: This chapter is a little bit shorter than I usually go, but I like it anyway. Until the three groups of characters meet each other, the chapters will be from a different group's perspective each time. It won't be like that for too long, but this one is.

Roman looked at himself in the small mirror he kept in his room. He could say with absolute certainty that he was ready to go back out to that arena, but he'd be lying if he said he was looking forward to it. He had been a gladiator for a long time, but it was never what he wanted to do. He wanted to be royalty, but that would be impossible. One, he wasn't born into it. And two, this city didn't have royalty, they had a president.

He was a local of this planet, so he had the crystals around the corners of his eyes, on the back of his neck, and on his shoulders. All the crystals- and his eyes- had many warm colors in them, like red, orange, yellow, and pink. He always liked to show off, so he usually wore shirts with short sleeves, or no sleeves at all. His hair was mostly brown, with a couple of bright red streaks in it.

He had gotten up and dressed a while ago, because in his time working in the arena, he'd learned to rise with the sun. You never knew when you'd be a part of the first battle of the day, and you could almost never get away with being late. The whole day lasted from sunrise to sunset, and most people battled multiple times a day unless they were badly injured, or worse. Needless to say, he really hated it there. And he wanted nothing more than to be able to leave. But unfortunately, that wasn't going to happen. The only way to legally leave was to either be fired, or die. Roman wasn't planning on dying any time soon, so that was off the table. And for some reason, no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't get himself fired. He would occasionally wake up late, break or 'lose' things on purpose, things like that. But he just couldn't get fired.

So that was when he started planning his escape. Who was going to care that it was illegal, because he certainly wasn't. He wasn't going to come back to this planet once he left anyway, so it wasn't like anyone would be able to find him. He would sneak out, maybe to one of the emergency evacuation ships, and silently make his leave in the night. No one would ever know, except for maybe when they noticed he was gone the next morning. But he would work out the finer details later.

He had already read and memorized the schedule for the day, so he knew he would be next on the list of battles. He also knew he'd be facing another person. Sometimes the leaders of this ordeal would catch some sort of beast for one of Roman's colleagues to fight. He was lucky he wasn't doing that, because gladiators who had to battle those creatures usually didn't get out alive.

The buzz of the intercom system turned on in his room, and he looked up at the speaker on the wall. A slightly static-y voice spoke.

"Roman Northbrook, you are needed in the arena." The intercom beeped to show that it had turned off.

"Yeah, I was expecting that." He muttered, going to grab his sword.

It was a bright red double-edged blade with a smooth cylindrical handle. Even the handle had a point on the end, so it was like a second weapon. He slid two gold bracelets on each of his arms. They didn't touch his skin, but instead hovered around his arm so his wrist was in the center. He sometimes used them to block attacks, since he was never given a shield.

He left his room, walking down the pristine silver hallway into a chamber that greatly resembled a jail cell. He always thought about what an ironic metaphor that was.

He could hear the commentator announcing the battle. The audience started to cheer, and the bars on the wall began to rise. He walked slowly to the center of the arena, and everyone went quiet. Then his opponent charged, and the crowd began yelling again. Roman tuned them out, because there was no way he'd be able to focus unless he did.

When the other gladiator was close enough to strike, Roman easily dodged their sword. He was tall and slender, so he could move quickly. While his opponent was in shock, he swung his sword and hit them in the side. He didn't use all of his force, because his sword was ridiculously sharp, but he definitely hit them hard enough for it to hurt. They stabbed towards him with their sword, but he simply turned and the sword went right past him. He grabbed his opponents wrist, sliding his hand to the handle of their sword and seamlessly plucking the weapon out of their hand.

"That was easier than I'd expected." Roman smirked. The other gladiator stared at him, completely dumbfounded. The battle seemed to be over before it had even begun. He raised the two swords to his opponent's chest. A hopeful silence fell upon the crowd, and Roman rolled his eyes internally. He looked around at the audience and raised his voice so he could be heard. "You want to see some real blood, don't you?"

The crowd went wild. Roman's ears were filled with the sounds of people yelling. He could tell that his opponent was experience pure fear. He winked at them discreetly, and a little bit of it went away.

"Well you're not going to get it." He lowered the swords. Suddenly, the cheers from the audience became jeers and insults. "What's wrong, were you expecting me to actually do that? I see a lot of familiar faces in this crowd, you know! Some of you come here every day to watch these battles and yet, for some reason, you're not entertained unless the winner is willing to stoop low enough to meet your standards! There will be other battles! There will be other people out here, people with fewer morals than me. But you aren't satisfied! And I'm sick of it! Maybe if you got out of this arena long enough to see anything else, you'd know why!"

He stabbed one of the swords into the ground, holding on to his own still. Then he started walking away. He was originally going to wait until night, but it wasn't worth it anymore. He ran out of the arena into the darkness of the hallway, where a security guard grabbed his arm tightly.

"Try to get out of this one, tough guy." The guard scowled behind dark glasses.

"Gladly." Roman kicked the guard in the stomach and kept going. At first he was walking with purpose, but as a group of guards built up behind him, he started running with purpose. As previously mentioned, Roman was fast. Really fast. So he had no trouble running from the guards. And soon enough, he had lost them.

He burst through the front doors, barely slowing down. This was the first time he'd seen the sun in what felt like forever, because even the arena was closed off. He took a deep breath of fresh air, and couldn't help but smile. He bolted down the street, past the presidential skyscraper, all the way down to the parking lot. He saw a small ship that was already started, and the top was open. It was prime real estate. The only problem was that the owner of the ship was already there. The ship's owner had bright blue hair and was wearing what looked like a white lab coat. Not that Roman had time to care about any of that.

He just pushed this stranger out of the way and jumped into the ship. The door automatically closed around him, and he was faced with the reality that he wasn't a pilot and didn't know how to fly a ship. Not to mention that the random scientist yelling at him from the outside of the ship didn't help.

Roman began pressing a bunch of random buttons. His eyes widened in surprise as a screen popped up in front of him. It had a picture of a planet on it, with data next to it. His eyes went directly to the part that said 'Population'. It didn't really matter how many people lived on the planet. But in Roman's mind, the less people that lived on the planet, it was better for him. He looked up for a second, only to see the group of guards quickly approaching. He scrolled through the different planets as fast as he could until he found one that said 'Population: Zero (?)'. He completely ignored the question mark next to the number and pressed the button on the screen that said 'AUTOPILOT'. The ship began to lift into the air and Roman cheered. He could just sit back and relax while this ship did all the work. Unfortunately, the loud noise got the attention of the ship's owner again. As it took off Roman felt a slight imbalance in the ship. This could mean many things, but he assumed that it meant that the scientist had tried to grab on to the ship before it got away. That was a crazy thought, Roman knew it wasn't true. Or at least, he thought he did.

Soon enough though, the ship balanced itself out again. He was back to smooth sailing. He let out a sigh of relief. Finally, at long last, he was free. He checked the fuel on the ship. It has almost a full tank. He didn't know how long this trip would take, but he assumed that would be enough. There was a seatbelt attached to the seat he was sitting in, but he wasn't using it. He had a basic understanding of how ships worked, so he was sure he'd be able to land it safely. His sword was in the seat next to him.

The moment his planet was out of sight, he came to a realization. There was no one else on this ship with him, and no one on the planet he was going to. He would drive himself crazy eventually.

"Well it has to be avoidable, right?" He muttered. "Oh, great, I'm already talking to myself… How long is this flight anyway?"

He pressed the button that caused the screen to pop up the first time. This time, there was a timer on the screen. It said 'Flight Duration: 1 day, 22 hours, 50 minutes, 16 seconds'. He covered his face with his hands out of frustration, leaning back in his seat. This was going to be a long ride.

He passed many different planets along the way. All of them were completely different from anything he'd seen before. One of them was made entirely out of water, with an entire village floating on what looked like wooden rafts. Another one was completely uninhabited. It looked like it had a core of lava, with patches of rock over top.

Two days later, Roman was woken up from a nap by a blaring alarm. Red lights were flashing inside the ship. He reflexively reached for his sword to fight whatever was attacking him. When he finally came to his senses, he realized that he wasn't under attack. The screen read 'AUTOPILOT FAILING'. He dropped his sword and grabbed the steering wheel. He tried to turn it and control the ship's trajectory, but it wasn't working. Then he saw what the problem was. The ship was completely and totally out of gas. Then it started falling.

He caught sight of something below. It was the surface of a planet. There was no gravity in space, so he came to the conclusion that he was already inside the atmosphere. He frantically buckled his seatbelt, bracing himself for impact. It came sooner than expected.

The ship crashed into the ground head-on, and even though he had a seatbelt on he went flying through the roof. The glass shattered and he was thrown to the rocky terrain outside. His sword landed next to him, stabbed into the ground just a few inches away. He was lucky that he hadn't been just a little bit to the side.

He was covered in cuts, scrapes, and bruises. But he didn't think he had any broken bones, which was good. He saw the ship a few yards away, and he realized that he must've flown far. He stood up, took his sword out of the ground, and walked over to the ship. The top was completely broken, the engine was smoking, and the screen Roman had been reading off of was cracked. The last thing he could read before it went completely dark was 'Destination Reached'. Which meant that this was where he'd decided to go.

"Great! I crashed the ship, I don't have any food or water, and there aren't any people on this planet!" He hit himself in the head. "Why do I have to be so stupid all the time!"

Luckily no one else was around for miles, otherwise they would have heard many loud swears and screams of frustration following that statement. He kicked the ship repeatedly before sitting down on a nearby rock to calm down.

"Okay, time for a plan I guess…" He muttered to himself. "Maybe the ship has food in it? That's my best bet right now, otherwise I might need to find some animals or something…"

He climbed into the ship, being very careful to avoid all the broken glass. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw wooden crates that were being stored behind the seats. He used his sword like a crowbar to open the boxes. The first one was full of bottled water.

"Plastic bottles." He picked one up and looked it over. "A little old fashioned, but I'm not complaining."

He kept looking through the boxes. There were two more that had water in them, three with non-perishable foods, and two with clothes for different climates.

"Must've been an escape pod." He concluded. "No other ship this size would have this much in it."

He dragged some of the crates out of the ship, just in case. That ship was pretty damaged, so he was mainly concerned about it exploding and destroying everything inside. He used his sword to slice some of the rocks so they could be used to build a shelter. As previously stated, that sword truly was ridiculously sharp. He started stacking the rocks until he had a solid shelter. He was proud of himself. But that pride only lasted a moment before a small breeze blew and the entire shelter crumbled to the ground. He sighed, getting back to work on rebuilding it. This time he packed dirt between the stones to stabilize them a little more. When he finally finished building it a second time, he sat on the ground and looked up at the sky. There wasn't really anything interesting up there. Not even any stars. The sky was so cloudy that it was just a sheet of gray at all times. He regretted picking somewhere so boring to travel to.

At least back home there was always something to look at. It didn't matter if it was the city, or the people, or even the stars. There was always something. But on this planet, it was the same in every direction. Just hills and rocks and dirt.

Then he realized something. He never thought that he would have experienced it. He thought that when he left his home planet, he would finally be happy. But he wasn't. He was miserable. Not only that, but also something else.

Looking up at the empty sky on the empty planet, he realized that he was completely, totally, unbearably, undeniably homesick. And there wasn't even anything he could do about it.

Taglist: @idkwhyimhere0o0 @icequeenoriginal @mostpeopleannoyne @007ardra @logan-is-my-spirit-animal

#sanders sides #roman sanders #creativity sanders #ts roman #logicality #prinxiety #demus #fanfic #science fiction #scifi #among the stars au

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takerfoxx · 5 years

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RD Walpurgis Nights 7: Part 4

Ophelia sucked in sharply through her teeth. “Okay, um. Well, that’s really good advice and all, but I’m guessing things didn’t turn out well.”

“No,” Homulilly said, shaking her head. “It was a disaster.”

…

Three days ago…

“I’m so glad you decided to come,” Gretchen said happily as she and Homulilly walked hand-in-hand through the FIB’s schoolhouse. “You’ll love it, I promise!”

Homulilly smiled reassuringly, but she was gnawing the insides of her cheeks.

It was early evening, and they had just gotten out from dinner. Normally this would be when the two of them would return to their dorm to work on homework, relax, read, watch holovids, or just goof off, but Gretchen still had a few more meetings to attend with the planning committee for the festival, and Homulilly would be damned if she spent another night alone, much less leave Gretchen alone around Mitty without supervision.

Surprisingly, the committee had no issue with letting Homulilly tag along. She had expected Mitty at least to raise some kind of protest, but she apparently had been fine with it.

Maybe she had other things to worry about. Maybe she liked the competition. Or maybe…

Homulilly’s smile began to get a little strained.

…maybe she didn’t see Homulilly as competition at all. And why would she? She was gorgeous, while all Homulilly could manage was…cute. Maybe this was intentional. Maybe she wanted to steal Homulilly’s girl right in front of her.

Well, Homulilly for one was not going to taking that lying down. She was wearing a silky black dress that came down to just before her knees, and black stockings that extended just above them, leaving a few centimeters of skin in between. Every knot and tangle had been combed out of her hair and it now practically shined, every petal on her spider-lily was perfectly curled, and she had had one of the caretakers help her a few touches of makeup.

Gretchen, it should be noted, had just been confused when she saw how much Homulilly had made herself up, and was just wearing a frilly pink blouse, a white hooded jacket, and shorts. Still, she had been very complimentary regardless.

The planning committee had their meetings in the big auditorium where the FIB put on plays, rallies, and other school events. Homulilly imagined several professional looking people sitting politely in the first few rows, facing the stage, where the president was standing at the podium giving a presentation, probably one with holographic flowcharts or something.

As they neared the auditorium, Homulilly reflexively headed for the big double-door, but Gretchen passed right past them to head for the smaller side-door instead, the one near the stage that let staff get in and out without disrupting whatever was going on.

Homulilly got another surprise when they entered the room. Given that class sizes depended on girls dying and randomly ending up in Freehaven, it was only about twice the size of one of the classrooms. Still, it was one of the larger rooms in the FIB, and Homulilly had expected to see the members of the planning committee filling the seats, dutifully listening as the president addressed them from the stage.

Instead, the stage was empty, almost all the chairs were folded up and stacked along the walls, and only four girls were hanging out near the back. There was a plastic table set up with a variety of snacks and a keg of punch set up, and a few chairs were set up in a disorganized ring. Only one of the girls was actually sitting normally, while another had her chair backwards and was leaning over its back while the third was lounging her legs across three chairs while the fourth was at the table helping herself to the snacks.

Mitty was nowhere to be seen.

Homulilly hesitated. Her earlier conviction that she was headed to war and confidence to win suddenly started to dry up, and she felt very overdressed. The committee was a third of the size she was expecting, and like Gretchen, everyone else wore comfortable clothes and was chatting casually.

As Homulilly hung back, Gretchen bolted ahead toward the group. “Hey, guys!” she said cheerfully. “This is my girlfriend, Homulilly. She was getting bored without me and wanted to tag along!” She pointed to the girl sitting normally, who was Middle-Eastern, short of stature, and had her long, bright yellow hair tied back. “This is Yasmin Asfour, our president.”

“Hi,” Yasmin said with a shy wave.

Gretchen then turned to the girl reclining across three chairs, who was Caucasian, slightly overweight, and had short blue hair that looked like it curled naturally.

“That’s Patricia Sanders, the vice-president!”

“Hi,” said Patricia said.

“That’s Jada Avidan, the secretary,” Gretchen said, indicating the girl helping herself to snacks. An olive-skinned Jewish girl with wavy pink hair, Jada merely gave a quick half-salute over her shoulder and went back to what she was doing.

“And that’s Madeline, the treasurer,” Gretchen said as she pointed out the girl with the backwards chair. A black girl with bright red hair, she was a witch with arms and legs shaped like Corinthian columns. At her introduction, she just nodded and went back to talking to Vivian.

“Um, hello,” Homulilly said. “I, uh, hope I’m not intruding.” Then she remembered that she was supposed to look cool and confident and gave herself a mental kick.

“Where’s Mitty?” Gretchen asked as she grabbed a pair of chairs for her and Homulilly and sat down, her legs spreading in all directions.

Hopefully sick, Homulilly thought as she took her seat next to Gretchen. Or in jail. Or expelled. Or-

“Here,” said the familiar voice, dashing Homulilly’s hopes. It came from the far end of the room. There, a brown couch was facing the wall, with Mitty’s bright orange hair hanging out over one armrest and her bare feet dangling over the other. “Howdy.”

Then her feet disappeared, her knees appeared over the top of the cushions, and she kipped up, leaping fully off the couch to land on her feet on the floor. She was just wearing a pair of sweatpants and midriff exposing tee-shirt that bore the logo of some band that Homulilly had never heard of. Her hair was tied back in a messy ponytail and she wore no makeup.

“Okey-doke,” Mitty said as she picked up a folded chair and approached the small group. “Jalaga should be back in a bit, and we can get started. Hey, Homulilly. Glad you could make it.” Then she saw what Homulilly was wearing and her eyes went wide.

“Damn,” she said. She tossed the chair at the chair, giving it a weird twist of her wrist as she did. It somehow unfolded as it spun through the air and landed perfectly on all four legs, facing the rest of the group, letting her sit down. “Where’s the party? Can I come?”

Homulilly had no idea how to respond to that.

Right about then she heard the big double-doors opening behind them, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps. “Hey, Jalaga!” Jada called. “Right on time!”

That was when Madeline suddenly looked worried. She leaned over and said to Gretchen in a low voice, “Uh-oh. Hey, Gretchen? You warned your girlfriend about Jalaga, right?”

Gretchen’s eyes went wide.

Warn? Warn her about what? Homulilly instinctively turned in her chair to see what the problem was.

“Lilly-chan, wait,” Gretchen said grabbing her by the arm. “Maybe you shouldn’t-”

“Hey, everyone!” said a deep, booming voice, one that was definitely not human. “I got the rest of the flags, so we should be ready to-”

Homulilly finished turning fully in her seat. Then her face lost what little color it had and with a loud shriek she fell backward to the floor, nearly taking Gretchen with her.

Jalaga was a vaskergoros, all fur-covered muscle, sharp tusks, and four massive arms. Not a tall one, as such things were judged, but even at her three-and-a-half meters, she had to stoop to keep her head from scraping the ceiling.

That in itself would have been a surprise, but not a shock. Vaskergoros were not common in Freehaven, but Homulilly had seen enough of them to at least get sort of used to their size and fearsome appearances. However, this particular vaskergoros differed greatly from the ones she had seen in one significant regard: namely, she was a witch. A witch whose entire chest, shoulders, arms, and head were completely skeletal, and her living skull of a head levitated over the thick bones of her shoulders in a ball of green flame.

At Homulilly’s reaction, Jalaga froze in place and stared down at her. “Oh,” she said, her voice emanating as much from her fleshless chest as it did her mouth. “I…didn’t know we had someone new. Sorry for scaring you.”

Trembling like hairless rat freezing to death, Homulilly could do nothing but remain right where she was and gape up at the demonic visage staring down at her.

A very long silence passed, and then Jalaga said, “Oh. Hey! You got the same kind of arms I do! Neat.”

More silence. Someone coughed.

Jalaga glanced around and tried again. “So…do your elbow joints grind together whenever you try to reach around and scratch your back? Because mine do, and it is just the worst.”

Still no answer.

Jalaga slowly breathed out, no mean feat for someone who should not even be capable of the act. “So, is she going to be okay?” she asked the others as she pointed down at the cowering Homulilly. “Because this is getting really uncomfortable.”

…

Now…

“Ouch,” Ophelia said with a wince. “Ouch.

“Yeah,” Homulilly said with a sniff. Just reliving the memory was making her turn pink. “It was Dr. Antercateract all over again.”

“Dr…Oh, right. Oktavia’s tentacled friend. Um, would I be correct in assuming that this was one of those nights where literally everything that could go wrong did go wrong?”

Homulilly sighed. “Yeah,” she said. “Absolutely.”

…

Then…

Once everyone was finally all circled up, Yasmin cleared her throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “All right, all right, meet and greet’s over. Now, we need to-”

Homulilly, who had been itching for this moment, abruptly raised her hand.

“-and, ah, yes?”

Almost immediately Homulilly felt the urge to apologize for the interruption and say it was nothing, anything to get all the eyes now focused on her to turn anywhere else. Even the look that Gretchen was shooting her was more confused than supportive.

However, it was too late to back down now. “Hi. Um, sorry, I know I’m not really part of the committee, but…I did have some ideas I wanted to, you know, throw out there.”

Homulilly knew that the others probably wouldn’t be expecting her to contribute, but she wanted to at least justify her being there. Plus, given her recent gaff, she hoped that by offering up something they would be more quick to accept her.

However, it wasn’t interest in what she had to say that they were displaying, nor was it hostility for daring to speak up. Rather, they all just looked completely bewildered. Even Jalaga managed to convey an expression of total bemusement on her fleshless features.

Well, she had gone this far, and it was too late to pull out. Clearing her throat and hoping that her nervousness wasn’t showing in her voice, Homulilly pressed on. “I, uh, looked up the stuff you guys did the last few years, and noticed that there was, like, a dance theme going on, and, and how you’d do a dance from a different part of…” For a brief moment, Homulilly completely forgot the name of the planet they had lived on when they had all been alive, and nearly blanked out. “Er, th-the world of the living. So…I was thinking that you could…continue that, and this year you could…”

Madeline then cleared her throat, bringing Homulilly to a sudden stop. “Um, Homulilly? The festival is right around the corner. We’re pretty far past the brainstorming stage. In fact, most of our part’s already set up. We were just going to finish what we’ve got left and make sure everyone’s ready.” There was a pause, and then she added, “And this year’s theme is the Samba.”

“Oh,” Homulilly said as she slowly sank back into her chair. “Sorry.”

Gretchen gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

Yet another beat passed, and then Mitty said, “Still…it’s good that you wanted to help out. So…maybe you could join the committee next year, yeah?”

Homulilly didn’t trust herself to respond. Mitty…was trying to comfort her, to make her feel better. Mitty felt sorry for her! Gretchen felt sorry for her! They all felt sorry for her, at least the ones that weren’t annoyed by the interruption! Homulilly had shown up hoping to impress and show Mitty up, but instead she had embarrassed herself so badly that Mitty was taking pity on her!

And the worst of it is that it was all Homulilly’s fault. Of course they wouldn’t need any more ideas; of course they would be almost done! Why hadn’t she known that? It was obvious! But she had been so caught up in the idea of going to war with Mitty that she had completely failed to think logically and instead had jumped at every dumb idea that had crossed her mind.

Yasmin had started talking again, picking up where she had left off, no doubt in part to steer attention away from Homulilly’s latest screw-up. Homulilly planted her hands on her knees in hopes that it would keep them from shaking, but she couldn’t stop her fingers from curling, crinkling the fabric of her skirt. She had started the evening primed and ready to go to war, but now it was herself that she wanted to smack.

…

Now…

“Wow,” Ophelia said. “Okay then.”

Homulilly was already red in the face due to what had recently gone down, but reliving the previous night’s humiliations darkening the color into purple. “I was an idiot,” she mumbled. “I was such an idiot.”

Ophelia pulled out another candy bar (how many of those did she keep on her?), slowly unwrapped it, took a contemplative bite, chewed for a bit, swallowed, and said, “If I tried to make you feel better, would it make it worse?”

“Yes.”

“Duly noted. So…what happened next?”

…

Then…

The actual meeting part had been mercifully brief, and within minutes everyone headed outside to get to work. Homulilly sulkily followed, mentally kicking herself every step of the way for every single decision she had made in the last twenty-four hours.

Sure enough, everything was practically done. The dance circle was an octagonal wooden stage surrounded by a white lattice wall, with a big opening on one side. All that was really left was to put up the last few decorations.

Once outside, everyone quickly dispersed to their tasks. Nobody said anything to Homulilly, so she sat down on a bench to watch as the last bits of light-hanging and sign-painting was taken care of.

The first thing she noticed was that Mitty and Gretchen weren’t working anywhere near each other, which was a relief. Or maybe it wasn’t. Homulilly had half-expected for Mitty to take advantage of Homulilly’s public humiliation to swoop in for the kill, but instead the two were barely interacting. Maybe she felt so sorry for her rival that she had decided to back off for the time being, out of pity.

Or, as Homulilly bitterly reflected was most likely the case, she didn’t consider Homulilly to be any kind of rival and saw no need to capitalize.

At the moment, Mitty was hanging out near the FIB’s wall, talking to Madeline. Homulilly watched as the two chatted and laughed, playfully exchanging barbs. Homulilly frowned. Come to think of it, Mitty was acting much the same around Madeline as she had with Gretchen. What was going on? Was she trying to seduce everyone on the planning committee?

Then, right there in front of everyone, Mitty reached down and grabbed a big handful of Madeline’s butt.

Homulilly’s jaw dropped at the boldness. Well, sure, she was used to Ophelia and Oktavia’s open appreciation of any cute girl that walked by, but they at least kept their hands and comments between the two of them. This was a whole new level of brazen!

“Sexual harassment!” Madeline called out, laughing. “Sexual harassment!”

“Hey, Mitty!” Patricia called over from where she was working. “Wait until after we’re done before you start molesting people!”

Confused, Homulilly just shook her head. Okay, maybe she was worried over nothing. Maybe that was just how Mitty was with everyone.

Still laughing, Mitty grabbed up the banner she was to put up and a bucket of tools and turned toward the wall. Homulilly expected her to leap or run her way to the top like everyone else, but instead she lifted her right leg, planted her foot against the side of the wall, lifted her left leg, and then proceeded to casually walk all the way to the top, her body perpendicular to the ground.

Despite the dark cloud that was hanging over her, Homulilly couldn’t help but leap to her feet and blurt out, “She can walk on walls?”

Though there was a fair distance between her and the apparent human spider, it was close enough for Mitty to hear, and she turned her head to smirk down at the stunned girl. “Hell yeah, I can walk on walls! Used to need to summon up my uniform boots to do it, but since that ain’t happening anymore, now I can do it whenever!”

“You know, I never got that,” Jada remarked from where she was working over at the stage itself. “We can still summon up our old weapons, right? So how come we can’t get our uniforms back?”

“Who the hell knows?” Mitty said with a shrug. “But hey, given the choice, I’d go with ol’ Sexy here.” She shifted the banner under her armpit, moved the bucket over to her left hand, and held out her right. There was a flash, and then a long green staff with a triangular yellow crystal at both ends was in her hand. She spun it around one-handed like a baton and then jammed it against the side of the building. The crystal seemed to melt and mold itself against the wall and the whole pole stuck.

Hanging the bucket on the pole, Mitty knelt down on the wall to get to work.

Homulilly thought back to her visits to the Ladoga house, where Ophelia, Charlotte, Oktavia, and Candeloro had their old weapons hanging over the fireplace, as they had managed to hold onto them when making their escape from Dead Drop City. She wished that she and Gretchen had had the presence of mind to do the same, but they hadn’t even seen theirs. Presumably they were still there, within that terrible clock tower. Just another thing Puella Magi had over witches.

“Lilly-chan!”

Homulilly turned to see Gretchen waving over to her. The pink-haired witch was hanging flags on the wooden latticework wall that surrounded the courtyard. She was making good time too, as she had her nest of wire-legs stretched all the way across the wall, each one plucking up flags to tie them into place in an impressive display of multitasking. It made her look like an incredibly cute pagan god of legend.

“Come on! You can work with me!”

Normally Homulilly would have jumped at the chance, but now all she could do was wonder why Gretchen even needed the help, as she was handily doing the work of at least six people with little effort.

It’s because she feels sorry for me. I mean, look at me, sitting by myself and looking pathetic.

Still, at least it was something to do, and maybe by being helpful Homulilly could make up for her earlier slipups. Sighing, she got up and walked over to where Gretchen was working.

Gretchen reached down with several of her legs and twisted them around to form a pair of step-ups. “C’mon,” she said. “I’ll give you a boost!”

Homulilly glanced over to where Mitty was still crouched on the side of the building, half-singing and half-humming a pretty raunchy hip-hop song. “No, it’s okay. I got it,” she said.

Gretchen blinked. “Are you sure? Because I-”

Homulilly took a few steps back, calculated her path, and bolted toward one of the columns. Then, just like she had done a hundred times to reach the rooftop pathways of Freehaven, she leapt up.

At first everything went as planned, and Homulilly was able clear most of the column’s length with a single bound. However, as she did so, she realized her mistake: sure, the walls she was used to scaling were far higher, but they also included a series of handholds and footholds, whereas the column had nothing for her to hold onto.

As Homulilly felt her ascent start to slow and her descent starting to take hold, she desperately braced her feet against the side of the column and pushed up. It wasn’t much, but it gave her enough momentum to seize onto the top of the beam with both hands. Then, before anyone could notice her near-mishap, she hauled herself up.

Straddling the beam with her legs, she shot Gretchen what she hoped was a confident smile. “See?” she said. “Nothing to it.”

Then she saw that Gretchen had several of her legs reared up around her like a startled octopus, no doubt at the ready to catch Homulilly if she fell. “Oh,” she said, looking genuinely surprised. Then she grinned and lowered her legs. “Cool! All right, let me show you what we need to do.”

Homulilly’s smile faltered. Wait, did she really think that Homulilly wasn’t going to make it?

Then she heard a small chuckle. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Mitty was shaking her head as she snickered. There was no doubt about it; she had seen how close Homulilly had come to falling.

Wincing, Homulilly turned away and instead focused on helping Gretchen with the flags.

The two worked in silence for a bit, which for them was unusual. Homulilly honestly found it hard to concentrate on what she was supposed to be doing, as her mind kept racing to come up with something to break the silence, anything they could talk about that wouldn’t betray the nerves she was feeling.

Then Gretchen said, “Um, Lilly-chan? Can I ask you something?”

The last time Gretchen had ventured that kind of question in that tone, it had led to their first kiss. But given recent events, Homulilly wasn’t exactly optimistic that the subject matter was going to be anything nearly as positive. Forcing what she hoped was a warm smile, Homulilly said, “Sure!”

True enough, Gretchen’s question was not one that Homulilly really wanted to answer. “Um, are you…okay? Because you’ve been acting very weird lately.”

Though she wasn’t much for swearing, all the time spent with Cheese the parrot had given Homulilly a large and filthy vocabulary to work with should ever the need arise. And though she said none of the words out loud, mentally she ran through most of them in seconds.

Fighting to keep her panic from her face but knowing that she was failing miserably, Homulilly stammered out, “Uh…wh-what do you mean?”

Gretchen was many things, but an idiot was not one of them. She just gave Homulilly the look, obviously not fooled in the slightest.

Damn. Damn, damn, damn. What was Homulilly supposed to do? She couldn’t come out with the truth, which in itself just felt so completely wrong, as Gretchen was the one person she could always be honest with. But she couldn’t just tell the truth and say that she was worried that Gretchen might leave her one day.

Think, Homulilly. Think! There had to be something she could say, had to be something she could say to allay Gretchen’s concerns.

And then, in a flash of inspiration, she had it.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and fortunately did not have to fake it. “I know, it’s just…you know, after the museum trip, everything’s just been feeling like it’s upside-down, and…” She sighed, and said again, “I’m sorry.”

The annoyance in Gretchen’s eyes softened, to be replaced with sympathy. “Oh, Lilly-chan.” Then she suddenly lunged forward to seize Homulilly in a tight embrace.

Homulilly, who had not been expecting that reaction, almost went stiff with surprise, but thankfully her reflexes took over and she immediately returned the gesture, wrapping her arms around Gretchen in return.

Her face close to Homulilly’s ear, Gretchen whispered, “Lilly-chan, I know things are scary right now, but you don’t have to worry! You heard what they said: so long as we stick together, we’ll be all right.”

That was just what Homulilly needed to hear. She sighed, letting the tension in her shoulders recede a little. Maybe she had been a little silly. Maybe she had let Annabelle Lee’s words get to her. But everything was going to be fine, right?

Then Gretchen said, “That’s why you don’t need to act cool for me, okay? Just be yourself. That’s all I want.”

Normally Homulilly would have been just fine with that, but something about the way Gretchen said that sounded sour to her ears. “Don’t need to act cool”? So…Gretchen didn’t think she was cool?

Well, granted, Homulilly herself didn’t think that she was cool, but now she was starting to realize just how cool everyone in her life was. Ophelia was really cool, Oktavia was also really cool, and Charlotte was pretty cool herself, with their brash personalities, funny quirks, and the confidence with which they did everything. Even Candeloro, who was the least aggressive and most feminine of the group, was also cool in her own way. And Gretchen, who was small, cute, and really pink, seemed to have no difficulty endearing herself to the cool people and making friends with them.

In fact, now that Homulilly thought about it, back when they had first met all of their friends, Ophelia had first approached her because Cheese had scared her and Ophelia had wanted to cheer her up, and it had taken a lot of coaxing to just get Homulilly to talk to her. Whereas Gretchen had been the one to approach Oktavia and strike up a conversation.

And then there was Mitty.

Everywhere she went, Gretchen just kept fitting in with cool people, while Homulilly just seemed to be tagging along for the ride. It had even been Gretchen that had rescued herself from the torturous situation she had found herself in and saved Homulilly from the clock tower.

Gretchen said that she loved her with all of her heart, and Homulilly believed her. But with all the talk she had been hearing lately about soul resonance, how much of that was because they had joined together as a Walpurgisnacht, and how much would have happened anyway? Did they even like each other in the old life? Were they even friends?

Homulilly had an image flash through her head, that of what their old Puella Magi team might have been like, where the past-selves of Gretchen, Ophelia, Oktavia, Candeloro, and…maybe Charlotte (they had never really worked out why she didn’t share the same reflexive recognition as the others) risked their lives to protect the city and looked really cool doing it. And in the back was Homulilly, always holding the others back, always coming up short, always screwing up and making things worse.

Always letting everyone down.

And that was her now. The others kept her around, sure. And she had no doubt that they liked her. But how much of that was out of pity? For all she knew, in their former life she had been the black sheep of the group, the one that the rest just kept around for the sake of having as much firepower as possible.

All of this passed through Homulilly’s mind in just a few seconds, but she couldn’t let Gretchen know. So she just forced everything she was feeling and thinking from her face and voice and said, “Okay. I’m sorry. Thank you.”

They parted then, though Gretchen kept her hand on Homulilly’s shoulder.

“Just hold on,” she said. “We’ll be fine.”

Homulilly nodded and turned in her seat…

…only to just then remember that she was seating on a wooden beam fifteen feet in the air.

She felt her balance leave almost immediately. She tried to correct herself, but somehow her stupid skirt had gotten twisted under her and that just threw her off all the more. She then tried to grab onto the beam for support, but somehow her hand fell onto the bucket of flags that was sitting right behind her.

The bucket fell, and Homulilly slipped right along with it.

She let out a loud yelp as she went horizontal, headed for what promised to be a very painful impact on the wooden stage below.

And then she stopped.

A moment later she heard the bucket clatter against the ground.

Blinking in surprise, Homulilly looked around to try to get some sense of what had happened. She was still horizontal, hanging perpendicular to the wooden beam, one leg still thrown across it. But in defiance of gravity itself, she was floating in midair.

Then she felt the wire-thin bindings around her waist and arms.

Gretchen had lashed out with four of her legs, snatching her before she could fall and keeping her in place. Looking concerned, she slowly maneuvered Homulilly back into place. “All you all right?” she said.

Though her illusionary heartbeat was still pounding in her ears, Homulilly managed a nod. Whew, that had been a close one.

And then she heard Yasmin say from down below, “Um, you guys okay up there?”

Homulilly turned, slowly and carefully, to look. Everyone had stopped what they were doing and were all staring at the pair.

Gretchen waved to them. “We’re fine!” she said. “Just a little slip. Don’t worry!”

Homulilly’s eyes swept over the group, seeing the looks of pity and disappointment.

Then she looked up. Mitty was now standing on the roof of the FIB building, far above them, her head bowed with one hand pressing against her forehead. She slowly shook her head, in clear disbelief that the klutz had done it again.

…

Now…

“Well?” Homulilly said.

“Well what?” said Ophelia.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Ophelia leaned back to recline across the wall on her elbows. She pushed her hat back and said, “Got plenty to say, but I think I’m gonna wait until you’re done before I say it.”

Homulilly sighed.

“Well?” Ophelia said, rolling her wrist to urge her on. “Keep it going.”

…

Then…

At the start of the night, Homulilly had been confidently striding forward with her shoulders straight, her head held high, and ready to prove herself to be just as cool as Mitty.

Now she no longer cared about any of that. She slumped into her seat next to Gretchen, head down, eyes moodily studying how the tiny marshmallows bobbed around in the steamy brown swamp of her hot chocolate.

At long last the night had come to an end, and everyone had decided to go hang out at the FIB’s all-hours coffee shop. Homulilly had frankly would have preferred to not to, but she was in such a bad mood by then that she couldn’t even muster up enough energy to say otherwise, so she had just said nothing and slouched after everyone.

Since Jalaga was still with them and couldn’t exactly come inside, they were all sitting in the outside area in a circle around a firepit, nursing their drinks and pastries and chatting away. It seemed that the others had decided to just ignore Gretchen’s moody and kind of embarrassing girlfriend and just act like she wasn’t there.

Some things never changed.

Though she wasn’t participating in the slightest with the conversation, bits were drifting past her consciousness. Apparently they were talking the museum trip.

“It was just such a trip, you know?” Mitty was saying, referring to their excursion to the museum the day before. Unlike Homulilly, she was wholly at ease, relaxing with one leg up over the armrest and the other stretched out onto the edge of the firepit. And why wouldn’t she be? She wasn’t the one that had made a fool of herself in front of everyone. “I mean, it’s one thing to read about all that stuff, see the pictures, watch the videos…er, holos, but it’s another to like jump into someone’s freaking memories.”

“Yeah, I remember going through the same thing last year,” Jada said as she shook her head. “Only worse. I hadn’t even heard of the Void Walkers before then.”

“Seems kind of scummy, if you ask me,” said Madeline. “I mean, to drop that on us right before the festival. Kinda kills the mood, right?”

“Maybe they’re hoping it’ll cheer us up,” Jada said.

“It didn’t for me.”

“Okay, but you know what I don’t get?” Mitty said. “See, the part I was really looking forward was meeting Astrid. Because she’s supposed to be one of the only witches to turn back into, uh, into a Puella Magi, right? And if we were going to see her memories…”

“You thought you would get to see how it happened,” Patricia said.

“Yeah, pretty much. Except no, that’s when they decided to show us her girlfriend’s memories of that moment. And when I looked it up to find out why, it turns out that it’s because there wasn’t any memories to show. Like, they actually scanned her brain and found this great big blank spot.” Mitty shrugged. “So…who the hell knows what happened?”

“We don’t have brains anymore, dumbass,” Jada said.

Mitty flicked a straw at her. “Well, maybe you don’t. ‘Sides, you know what I meant.”

“It was the Ideal Witches,” Jalaga said in a low voice. The flaming vaskergoros witch was sitting on the ground with her legs crossed and her arms folded in her lap. She was already kind of eye-catching like that, but that pronouncement brought all attention to her.

A strange change had suddenly come over the group. Despite the warmness of the night, Homulilly felt a strange shiver run down her back. Something about the way Jalaga drew her full attention. “I’m sorry, the what now?” she said.

Mitty shot her a look. “Seriously, you’ve never heard of the Ideal Witches?”

“Um, I haven’t either,” Gretchen said as she hesitantly raised her hand. “What are they?”

“Not everyone reads as much as you, Mitty,” Yasmin said.

Jalaga shrugged. “Still. Given that you’re all on the planning committee for the Cultural Exchange Festival, I’d expect you all to know a little more about cultures outside of Freehaven.”

“Earth cultures, and other species’ cultures, not afterlife cultures,” Yasmin retorted.

“Even so.”

A silence fell over the group. Though they were sitting in a well-like plaza in a thriving metropolis, Homulilly suddenly felt like they were really out by themselves in the wilderness, gathered together around a crackling fire, the only thing holding the darkness at bay. Certainly Jalaga’s demonic visage added to the effect.

Then Gretchen tried again. “So…what are they?”

Jalaga didn’t answer right away. She just stared into the firepit, seemingly lost in thought. and when she did speak, she didn’t even seem to be speaking to them at all. “The Ideal Witches. Seven beings of unfathomable power. Some say that they were once a Walpurgisnacht made up of thousands of souls, but somehow only split into seven pieces. Others say that they each were a Walpurgisnacht that somehow remained whole upon death, keeping all the souls that they had absorbed. But they’re out there, out in the wild, untamed territories, luring the lost and unwary into their realms, entrapping them and feeding off their souls forever.

“It is said that each one presides over a separate aspect of our lives here, and our fates are steered by their wills. There is Mephisto, the human witch of Dreams. Nefflin, the andalite witch of Love. Zuffren, the vekoo witch of Desires. Kuh’sur’ri, the ai’jurrik’kai witch of Hate. Vendrel, the Nesk witch of Despair. Folc, the vaskergoros witch of Deception. And Irn, the kotoss interdrent witch of Determination. They are said to test those that they find interesting, to see if they’re worthy of receiving their blessing. And those who pass are granted their heart’s desire, while those who fail are added to their collection of souls.”

“So…like a reverse Incubator then?” Madeline said.

“Not a bad way of looking at it. Though with Incubators you got your wish and lost your soul. With the Ideal Witches it’s either/or.”

Patricia’s face screwed up in confusion. “And people believe in all this?”

“We go to school with a girl who can take her head off and dunk it like a basketball,” Mitty retorted. “Also, we’re dead and still sipping hot chocolate with a flaming alien. And I can walk on walls. How is any of that less weird?”

“Technically from my viewpoint, you all are the aliens,” Jalaga said good-naturedly.

“Yeah, I guess you have a point,” Patricia sighed. “Hell, if they are real, I kinda hope they’d visit me and give me some idea of what to do after graduating.”

“That brings up a good point,” Madeline said. “What do you guys want to do? Because I keep changing my mind.”

“…I’m honestly not sure anymore,” Mitty said. “I mean, I was going to go into professional dancing, but apparently you got to be something spectacular to compete out there, given what everyone can do, and I guess it doesn’t have the same mileage that it used to. So maybe I’ll just keep doing it as a hobby.”

“I know what you mean,” Gretchen said. “Our friend Ophelia-chan is an amazing dancer, but she still works at the power plant.”

Mitty stiffened. “Wait, wait, wait, hold up. Ophelia? Like, the bald girl who always wears red? That Ophelia?”

“You know her?”

“Know her? Of course I know her, every dancer in the city knows her! She’s great! She trains at the studio where my dance class is, and even subbed in on a couple classes!” Mitty shook her head. “And you’re friends with her?”

Now Homulilly interest was piqued enough to look up. After all, she had suddenly found something that she had that Mitty could be envious of. “Um, yeah. We go hang out at her place all the time.”

Sure enough, Mitty looked downright stunned. “Wow. Wow. So you get to go behind the scenes and everything. Hey, is it true that she has a private studio in her basement, just for her?”

“Er, no?” Gretchen shrugged. “Not that we’ve seen.”

“If she did, why would she be training at your studio?” Homulilly added.

Mitty pursed her lips, and Homulilly realized that she had sounded a little flippant.

However, Mitty didn’t press the issue. “I guess you have a point,” she said with a shrug. “But you have seen her dance battle?”

Gretchen nodded. “A couple times. That one time they took us to Sardi’s Land of Miracles-”

Mitty’s jaw dropped. “Ophelia was the one to take you to Sardi’s?”

“Well, her and the rest of our friends, anyway,” Gretchen said with a shrug. “Anyway, they had this big tent with a…a dance battle thing going on, and Ophelia took on this vaskergoros called, uh…”

“Busker?!” Now Mitty’s eyes were practically popping from their sockets. You saw an Ophelia vs. Busker dance-off at Sardi’s Land of Miracles?! Why the hell didn’t you ever tell me?!”

“…you, uh, never asked.”

“But you know Busker, right?” Mitty said, turning to Jalaga. “She’s like this famous top-boxer, does a lot of crazy stuff with water magic?”

Jalaga somehow managed to convey a look of befuddlement despite not even having much in the way of a face. “Er, no?”

“Seriously? How could you not have heard of Busker?!”

Two flaming, skeletal shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Not every vaskergoros knows each other. Besides, I don’t follow top-boxing.”

Mitty sighed in disappointment. “Aw, Jesus Christ. Okay, who won?”

“Busker, I think,” Gretchen said. “They were tied up until then.”

“So it was the third one.”

Jada stared at her blankly. “How many of these things were there?”

“Five so far. Ophelia’s in the lead, so there’s probably going to be another before too long.” Mitty sighed. “I hope I can find out where the next one’s happening in time to clear my schedule. I have to see one before they call it quits.”

“You think you’ll be up to challenging them one day?” Madeline asked.

Mitty snorted. “I wish. I mean, I’m good, but I’m not that good. Well, yet.”

“Well, I mean, it’s not like you have to rush,” Vivian said. “You have pretty much forever to practice.”

Gretchen made a face. “I guess…”

“And there’s no lack of choices,” Mitty added. “I mean, you don’t have to stay in Freehaven. You could go to Cloudbreak, or Marsters, or Steel City, or the Music Box, or like a gazillion other places.”

“How is it that you already know so much about…everything?” Yasmin asked.

Mitty stared at her in bewilderment. “Everything?”

Yasmin shrugged. “You already knew everything about Reibey and Oblivion, you know all about these Ideal Witches. I’m starting to think we don’t even need to study, we just need to get you talking to find out everything we need to know.”

“How can I not?” Mitty said. “Seriously, we live in a magical afterlife with a bunch of cool aliens! How can you not want to find out everything about it?”

“She’s got a point,” Madeline said between sips of hot chocolate.

“I understand,” Gretchen said. “Our friend Charlotte’s the same way. I think she knows more than the teachers.”

“See?” Mitty said, gesturing toward Gretchen. “There you go. Seriously, it’s kinda weird that you don’t…” Then she cut herself off. “Hold up. Charlotte? The librarian with the pink hair and the tail?”

Homulilly sighed and slumped down deeper.

“You know her too?” Gretchen asked.

Mitty nodded. “I was going to say the same thing! I mean, the library’s the best place to find out anything, and she’s the one that’s been helping me! But I’ve never seen you guys there. How do you know her?”

“Oh!” Gretchen beamed. “Well, she and Ophelia live together, so…”

“Uh…what?” Mitty’s jaw dropped open. “I thought Ophelia was dating that mermaid with the blue hair.”

Patricia perked up. “We have a mermaid?”

“Uh, yeah, haven’t you ever been to the Magi’s Gifts Emporium?” Jada told her. “She teaches music there.”

“You know her too?”

“I’m actually kind of surprised that you don’t! But yeah, my roommate gets guitar lessons from her.”

“She is!” Gretchen said. “Dating Ophelia, I mean. But Charlotte lives with them too!”

Mitty’s brow raised in appreciation. “Really? Huh. Wow, I know Ophelia had game, but…”

“Not like that!” Gretchen said with a slight blush. “There’s four of them: Ophelia, Charlotte, Oktavia, and Candeloro. They’re a Walpurgisnacht, so they stuck together. Ophelia is with Oktavia, and Charlotte is with Candeloro.”

“Ophelia’s part of a Walpurgisnacht?” Mitty said as she rubbed her chin. “Huh, I had no idea.” Then she frowned. “Wait, who’s Candeloro?”

“Uh…you ever been to the Honey Hive?” Gretchen asked.

“The coffee shop? Over on Avenida Sevilla?”

Gretchen nodded. “Yes. She’s one of the managers there. Um, the one with golden hair and ribbons for arms?”

“Oh.” The side of Mitty’s mouth lifted in a sly grin. “Oooooh, her. Yeah, I know her.”

Homulilly sighed. Of their little group, Candeloro undeniably was blessed with the most impressive figure, so it wasn’t uncommon for her to get quite a bit of attention from passersby.

But did they all have to be so overt about it?

Gretchen nodded. “Well, that’s her. She actually does most of their baking. Her strawberry honeycakes won prizes and everything! She’s actually taking a trip to Orya’s Furnace right now for the Sweet Tooth Symp…sympuh…symphony…”

“Symposium,” Homulilly said.

“Right! That word!”

“What’s that?” Jada asked.

Mitty stared at her. “Uh…seriously? It’s a jott city that’s-”

“Not that!” Jada said with a roll of her eyes. “Of course I know about that! What’s the Sweet Tooth Symposium?”

Homulilly cut in before anyone else could. This, at least, she knew more about than everyone else. “It’s a convention. For people who make sweet stuff, like cakes, candy, chocolates, that sort of thing.”

“Gotcha,” Mitty said with a thoughtful look. “And you said she does the baking for the Honey Hive. Y’know, I’ve been over there once or twice. The cupcakes are to die for.” Which is kind of funny, seeing how I did!” She grinned, as if expecting laughter, but the others just stared at her in an uncomfortable manner. Yasmin especially looked a little annoyed. Sensing that her morbid joke hadn’t gone over well, Mitty cleared her throat and hastily moved on. “Anyway, you’re telling me that there’s this house where Freehaven’s best dancer, musician, researcher, and baker live together, and you two just…hang out with them whenever?”

There was a pause, and then Gretchen said, “Well, I never really thought about it like that.”

“We’re actually pretty sure that we all knew each other before,” Homulilly chimed in. Finally, there was something impressive that she had that Mitty didn’t! “Um, you know, when we were…alive.”

“Huh?” Mitty said, tilting her head. “I thought you were both separate Walpurgies.”

“Oh, we are!” Gretchen said. “They’re all one, and we’re another. But when we met…you know how you said that your girlfriend felt like she recognized you, even if she didn’t really know who you were?”

Mitty arched an eyebrow. “Yeah…?”

“It was the same.” She clasped her hands over her heart and smiled at the memory. “We both felt like we knew them, and they felt like they knew us. So…we figure that we were all friends, but they turned into witches together, and we turned into witches later.”

Mitty shook her head. “Wow. Two Walpurgies showing up in the same town, only a…little time apart. Your town must be a crater by now.”

Gretchen’s smile withered. “I…never really thought of it like that.”

“But if that’s true, then you two must’ve been the ones to bring them down,” Mitty pointed out. “Like I did with Bobby…er, Alyssa!”

“Um…okay!” Patricia said quickly before Homulilly’s glare could get any more fierce. “So, what you two want to be after we graduate?”

“What?” Gretchen scratched her head. “Oh, um, actually…we’re not sure yet.”

“Well, that’s fine,” Jalaga said. She reached over and stirred the embers of the firepit with one finger. “You have plenty of time.”

“That’s for goddamned sure,” Patricia said darkly. Homulilly pursed her lips but said nothing.

“Well, what do you two like to do then?” Mitty said.

“Huh?” Gretchen said.

Mitty shrugged and gestured with one hand. “You guys gotta have hobbies, right? Stuff you do in your free time. So what do you like to do?”

“Oh!” She and Homulilly exchanged a glance. “Um, well, when we’re not studying or whatever, we like talking, visiting our friends, going for walks, watching holos…”

“Yeah, but anything artsy?” Mitty pressed. “Do you paint, write, draw, garden, do pottery, weave baskets, anything like that?”

“Not everyone has go into the liberal arts, Mitty,” Jada said with a disapproving look.

“Well, yeah, but there has to be something! Come on, don’t you ever get the urge to just go out and create something?”

“I guess we’re not really the artsy types,” Gretchen said in a small voice.

“Huh,” Mitty said. “That’s weird.” She shook her head, and then smiled. “Well, that just means we gotta change that! It’s not right for you guys to be hanging out with all those geniuses and not have something to-”

“No,” Homulilly said in a soft but commanding tone.

“Huh? Why not?”

“No,” Homulilly said again. “Leave us alone.”

While all this had been going on, the others had been having small whispered conversations of their own. All of those stopped in a second, and everyone looked up to stare at Homulilly and Mitty. For her part, Mitty’s eyes had narrowed to slits.

“Hey,” she said. “Do we have a problem? Because I’m starting to feel like we have a problem.”

“Okay, no!” Jada cut in before Homulilly could respond. “Look, whatever problem you guys have, deal with it on your own time, okay?”

“I don’t have a problem,” Mitty said. “She’s the one who-”

“I said, deal with it later, okay? Because I am way too tired and stressed out to put up with this now. Got it?”

A moment passed, and then Mitty said, “Yeah, okay. Sure. Fine with me.”

“Good.” Then Jada turned to Homulilly and Gretchen. “And you? Are we all cool here?”

“Sure,” Homulilly said in a neutral tone. “We’re…cool.”

“Great. Now, chill out, already.”

Mitty slouched back and folded her arms. Homulilly did the same. The two glared at one another.

Then Gretchen abruptly stood up. “I think we’d better go home,” she said to the group. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Yeah, me too,” Mitty said as she stood up as well. “Mood’s killed dead. So…bye.”

There was a small chorus of awkward murmured goodbyes from the others. Mitty went off in one direction, Gretchen and Homulilly in the other. For their part, Gretchen was completely silent the whole walk, while Homulilly just slouched with her head bowed and mouth set in a straight line.

When they reached their dorm Gretchen waited until they were both inside and the door was firmly shut before addressing the problem. “Homulilly,” she said. “What was that all about?”

Homulilly turned away.

“What’s wrong? Why did you snap at her like that?”

Homulilly slowly took a deep breath and let it out. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she muttered.

“But-”

“Drop it,” she said, and then stomped into the bathroom.

She locked the door and looked at the mirror. Oh God, her face was a mess. Her blush was all smudged, her mascara was starting to run, and her eyes were all watery. She had been so proud of how she had looked at the start of the night, but now it was horrid.

Which was just the perfect metaphor for everything about her, Homulilly bitterly reflected. She could do everything she could to make her look pretty, cool, and confident like just about everyone else, but as soon as something went wrong it all collapsed. It was just a frail façade, a fake mask.

Meanwhile, Mitty could show up with no makeup, baggy clothes, and her hair undone, and still come off as way better than she ever could! Same with the rest of them! Ophelia was practically a celebrity, Oktavia had actual albums and everyone knew who she was, Charlotte was about to become a published author, and Candeloro was off winning awards and getting invited to big events in other cities! Even Gretchen was out there joining committees and making friends. And Homulilly?

Well, she was ruining things for everyone just by being there.

Homulilly wet a washcloth and furiously wiped away the mess on her face. When she was done, she looked again at her reflection.

She didn’t know why she did. It wasn’t like there was anyone special looking back.

Homulilly threw the washcloth at the mirror. It hit and slipped down to the sink with a wet splat, leaving a bit blotch over her face’s image.

Then she slowly sat down onto the toilet and turned the shower on full blast so Gretchen wouldn’t hear her crying.

#Walpurgis Nights

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realityhelixcreates · 5 years

Text

Lasabrjotr Chapter 4: The Universe; Behind the Scenes

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: Mentions of Past Death Relationships: Loki x Reader Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), OFC Additional Tags: Thanos Is A Tool, Influence is Not the Same as Control, God I Want That Bathtub Summary: Reader learns what she remembers, but not why.

“What the hel was that?” Loki demanded. “She was fine one minute, and then she falls apart over a mere face full of dust? Who does that?”

“I can think of a reason.” Thor said softly.

“Brother?” Thor was rarely introspective, and Loki didn’t quite know what to make of it.

“She’s had a hard day. She will need rest, but I have some questions first. “

“I’m sure we all have.” Loki grouched. “Seems like that’s all we have.”

*****

The bath was nice, though the toiletries all smelled of him. You were surprised by how much mud had gotten in your hair. You weren’t made for such bizarre happenings: magic, and kidnapping gods, and ancient civilizations being built anew. Nothing about today seemed quite real. Even time was wrong. A few hours ago you were clocking in for the morning shift at work. Now the sun hung low in the sky. Evening was coming. You’d lost an entire day. You supposed that made its own kind of sense, since technically, aliens were involved.

Where were you now? This couldn’t be your country. Yes, the U.S. was pretty big, big enough to cover several time zones, but you didn’t think there was any part of the continental United States that was night while another part was morning. You had to be all the way across an ocean, or somewhere similarly as far. What a pity. You would have liked to see that. Flying over an ocean must be beautiful.

The towels were nice, much nicer than you were used to. Everything was probably going to be higher quality than you were used to, since royalty was involved.

How were you supposed to talk to them? There was no real royalty in your country; you didn’t know the etiquette. How did one address a prince? A king? A god?

Someone had taken your clothes while you bathed. Of course you couldn’t put them back on while they were still so filthy, but it made you feel vulnerable all the same. The tunic you had been provided in their place did not fit correctly at all; it was too loose in the shoulder, too long in the arms, and too tight in the hips. This was obviously a man’s garment, olive green and incredibly soft. You didn’t want to think about it. At least the provided slippers fit correctly. Your legs remained mostly bare, but you didn’t think they were all that much to look at anyway. The tunic was made for someone taller than you, so it covered enough.

This little set of rooms was odd to you. Like a whole house inside of another building. Here a bath, there a library, there and there a bedroom. And when you tried to leave back out into what you thought was the main corridor, there was a young man in armor there to stop you. He was polite, but he spoke a language you didn’t know.

“I’m sorry.” You told him. “I don’t understand.” He led you back into the library and pointed at a chair. “Oh, I get it. Sit down and wait, huh? I can do that.”

He waited until you had gotten yourself seated before going back to his post. He must have had orders not to let you leave. Annoying, but fair; they wouldn’t want you running off, and after that small panic attack earlier, it might not be safe for you to wander around without a guide.

You started browsing through the books, but most of them were in unfamiliar languages. When Loki came to collect you, you were going through illustrations and diagrams that you couldn’t read, but found interesting nevertheless. You looked up from a beautiful drawing of a huge tree with little worlds hanging it its branches, and he was just there.

“Uh…How long-“ You began.

“You make so many little noises when you read. Do you fear silence, or are you simply that lacking in self-awareness?”

“It’s just a habit.” You said defensively. “No one’s ever complained before.”

“You live completely alone. Who is there to complain? You will have to break that habit while you are within these walls. We cannot have incessant noise disturbing our guards, or my contemplations.”

You turned back to the illustrations, cheeks burning slightly. So it was just a little habit! It wasn’t that big a deal.

“You say it like we’ve gotta be joined at the hip all the time, but that’s obviously not the case, because I just had a nice bath without you. So unless you were waiting just outside the door-which would be creepy-then I’m sure my ‘incessant noises’ won’t be as big a problem as you’re making them out to be. “

You both let the moments pass in increasingly uncomfortable silence.

“I was harsh with you.” It was a statement, not an apology, but also probably the closest you were ever going to get.

“You were. I was…rude.” You conceded. You really must have crossed a line when you called him a monster. You had let your temper and fear run off with you.

“You were.” He agreed. “You were frightened. It’s only natural. And I was…frustrated. But that time is passed, and now the time has come for greater things.” He beckoned for you to follow him, and you did, curiosity growing.

Where could you possibly be going now? Some kind of magical laboratory, to run tests on your rune? A spiritual center, to meditate on this magical connection that sapped or restored energy based on how close the two of you were? A medical area, where they might operate on your hand to learn more about it?

“Where are we going?” You asked softly.

“Dinner.” He said airily, and you snorted. Greater things, huh? Still, something as mundane as dinner sounded amazing right now. You’d technically gone the whole day without eating. Something mundane sounded very nice right about now. You might not get that again for some time.

He looked oddly normal as well, which struck you as strange. It somehow never occurred to you that he didn’t look the same all the time. But all you’d ever had for reference was video footage of the battle. He wore armor to intimidate, horns to add height. Not that he needed it. The top of your head barely reached his shoulders. You would have never expected someone like him to even have casual clothes, if all those pin-tucks and diagonal shapes counted as casual. You tried to ignore the similar shapes on the ill fitted tunic you currently wore.

It was hard to believe how much different he looked without that helmet. How much the sharpness of his face was softened by letting his hair fall lose around his shoulders.

“Like something you see?” He asked. “You’re staring, you know.”

“Sorry.” You said, embarrassment creeping in. “It’s just that you look…”

He turned to watch you, the corners of his mouth lifting, ever so slightly. “Yes?”

“You look like a man.”

He paused, the tiny smile fleeing. “As opposed to a monster?” Then he quickened his pace, and you struggled to keep up.

“That’s not what I-“

“Oh don’t worry.” He cut you off. “After all, I’ve never shown this world anything different.”

“Lo-“ You started, then held your tongue. No, you couldn’t call him by name. You weren’t friends. Whatever reasons he might have had, he was the architect of a major disruption in your life. There was no way you had a job anymore, and if you ever got home, you probably wouldn’t have your apartment either. Your houseplants were going to die. Your friends and father, and coworkers had no idea you were still alive. And all of this was quite literally by his hand.

How were you supposed to address him?

“Your…Highness?” You tried, and he made an affirming noise. “Can you tell me where we are?”

“Yes.” He said, and nothing else. It took you a moment to realize he was doing that obnoxious thing some teachers do in order to amend their students’ grammar. How annoying.

“Please tell me where we are, your highness.” You said in a voice pitched higher than normal. Years of working in retail with difficult customers gave your demeanor a false show of being chipper. He noticed instantly, giving you a strange look.

“Within the kingdom of Asgard, but you would know this island as Iceland.”

“Iceland? How did-how am I-I…I’ve never been to Iceland.” You spluttered lamely. You had never been so far from home in your life. You’d never really wanted to. You were well and truly trapped, weren’t you? If you found that you really needed to leave, there really was nowhere for you to run. Even if you could make it out of the unbuilt city, you didn’t know where any other towns were. You wouldn’t be able to speak to any people you might find. They would know you shouldn’t be there, see that you had no passport, no identification. They’d haul you right to jail. That was all that awaited you outside the city. Death in a foreign landscape, or prison.

“Oh god, I’m an illegal immigrant.” You murmured.

“What are you talking about?” He led you into a large room with a huge table in the center, and then right past that table, and into a much smaller room, with a much smaller table, set with three dinners, and furnished with the king of Asgard.

“Yes.” He asked. “What are we talking about?”

“I don’t have a passport! I’m illegal, I’ll be put in jail!

Thor shrugged. “You’re a guest of the Crown, at least for a little while. You don’t have to worry about it. Sit with us; eat. Ease your worries. We’re going to take care of you.”

You took a seat opposite Thor; Loki sat next to you, not, as you expected, next to his brother. It almost felt like they were fencing you in, putting themselves between you and the door. Or between you and anyone who might come through the door.

The food was simple, and looked good, if a little unfamiliar. A bowl of hearty stew, full of vegetables and tasting of herbs your tongue had never met. A little pot of creamy white stuff, topped with orange sauce that turned out to be sweet instead of spicy. A chunk of something that was trying to be bread but was actually dried fish that you were supposed to spread butter on as if it was bread. And a glass of strong cider that you had trouble actually drinking. Alcohol was usually too pricy for you, and so you never drank much.

It was warm, and it was good, and it was what your body, confused by time zones, desperately needed. You ate every bit, even the buttered fish. But you said nothing, not until Thor addressed you directly.

“I know you have had a very rough day, and I know you must be tired and confused, but would you be willing to entertain a few questions?”

What choice did you have? He was right about being tired; the hot food and cider had hit you pretty hard. But it wasn’t like you could just tell him to go stuff it either, could you? You put your customer service face back on.

“Sure, ask away!”

He raised one eyebrow at the fake cheer in your voice, but made no comment on it.

“I’d like to assure you that we keep this place very clean. No dust, unless you go near construction zones. But, if it’s not too uncomfortable, could you tell us why you reacted like that? So we can keep you safer in the future.”

Damn. You should’ve known they wouldn’t let that go. Six months ago, you had been sure he would have an answer for you; now you just didn’t know. Would he think you were crazy too? But he was a god; was it possible to lie to a god?

“I’ll know if you’re lying.” Loki said, as if hearing your thoughts.

“There’s no need for threats.” Thor chided him.

“I wasn’t.”

“If you are comfortable talking about it.” Thor concluded.

“It’s difficult.” You said. “It’s not that I don’t want to; I kinda do, and I have for a long time. But it seems like some great big secret that I can’t bring up, because most people don’t believe me, and the ones that do are sort of paranoid of being thought crazy. Look, something happened about a year and a half ago, except it didn’t, but it did. And I know you probably won’t believe me, but-“

“Half your world turned to dust.” Thor said grimly. “People, plants, animals, everything. And then it all went back to normal, as if nothing happened. But not for you. In the time between the two events, you suffered. You mourned. You struggled and starved. And now you remember, when it seems no one else does.”

Loki stared at you. “That shouldn’t be possible.”

You had gone very still and very pale as Thor spoke out that list of everything you had gone through.

“I knew it.” You whispered. “I knew it. I knew it was real. That many people couldn’t have the same hallucination. I knew you knew something!”

Thor nodded, still looking very serious.

“That’s why I went to the tower in the first place! That’s why I tried to approach you! I knew one of you knew something!”

“But the spell-“ Loki began.

“What happened?” You demanded, excitement overcoming your sleepiness.

“It’s a lengthy tale, if you’re up for it.” Thor warned, but you only nodded in enthusiasm.

“Very well. It begins when the universe does.” Wow, he wasn’t kidding.

“Thor, are you sure this is a good idea?” Loki broke in.

Thor shrugged. “Looks like something went wrong. She’s not supposed to remember, but she does.”

“That spell was cast for a reason.” Loki protested.

“Which do you suppose was worse? Being one of the lives initially lost, or being one of those left behind to live in that broken universe? Do you know what that was like? Being the only one left? I say she deserves an answer. “

Loki rolled his eyes. “No, if you recall, I was dead at the time. Whatever, tell her what you will, but I’ll not be taking responsibility when it blows up in your face.”

“Wait, you…you died? Did you turn to dust too?” That even happened to the gods?

“Not exactly,” He muttered. “It was more of a hand’s on experience.”

“He was very brave.” Thor said.

“I was very foolish.” Loki retorted, but he looked more proud than angry.

“What happened?” You asked again.

“Yes, the story. Directly after this universe came into being, there also spawned a handful of concepts; embodiments of the things that make up the universe and everything in it. These things were given physical forms, shaped into shining gems of incredible power. Wars were fought over them, and with them, but only certain powerful individuals can actually use them. I have a friend who has seen what happens when someone who is too weak tries to handle one. Not pretty, apparently. However, Loki has used two of them before.”

Pride colored those last words, and Loki looked unsure of how to take being bragged about.

“For certain definitions of ‘used’, I suppose.”

“There was someone else who wanted them, a homicidal lunatic, name of Thanos. An absolute waste of space who brought nothing to the universe but mountains of corpses. Twisted. Worthless. Seems like all he could do was destroy. The Chitauri invasion? That was him.”

“That was him.” You pointed at Loki.

“Certain definitions of used.” He repeated.

You looked back and forth between the brothers. “What are you trying to tell me here?”

“He used the Mind Stone.” Thor said. “While at the same time, it used him. It affected everyone around it.”

“Wait, you mean mind control?” You asked, shocked by this revelation. “These things have their own will? Why haven’t you told anyone? Everyone thinks-“

“Do not mistake me.” Loki interrupted. “No matter how much my brother would like to paint me as an innocent in this, I still did what I did. Those were my actions and my decisions. One can very easily be a victim, and be guilty at the same time. Take it as a demonstration of what I am capable of, just not everything that I am.” He sighed, but his expression remained neutral.

“It is however, correct to think that, without Thanos, without the influence of that stone, I don’t think I would have done any of it. But I did, and there is no way to erase that. Do not make of me something I am not. I was the person who did all those things. But I am not now, and will not be again.”

“I don’t know what to think about this.” You said, but internally you were a bit relieved. You hadn’t actually stopped being frightened of him, but it was very reassuring to know that all that malice, all that bigotry and hatred hadn’t all been him. If his words could be trusted, anyway. Thor wasn’t objecting though, so maybe he really was on the level.

“He did take his stand against Thanos though.” Thor continued. “We all did; heroes of Earth, of Asgard, of the stars. And every last one of us failed. Most of us died, either in his quest for the stones, or in the event he caused. He came into possession of all of the stones, which allowed him to reshape the universe as he wanted it to be. “

“Which was…nearly empty?”

“He was a madman. He was obsessed with his savior complex, but his bloodlust was far greater, and I think he forgot how to separate the two. So yes, instead of thinking up ways to change reality for the better, he felt the logical choice was to kill everybody.”

“He had no creativity or finesse, unless he was causing harm.” Loki muttered.

“Now this is the part I really can’t tell you about, which is a shame, because it was amazing. However, because of the forces involved, the fewer people who ever know about it, the better. But we few survivors took our battle to reality itself, and we succeeded. We regained what Thanos took from us, and erased his nightmarish vision of the universe.”

“Before separating the stones and returning them to their proper guardians, the sorcerers among us used them to cast a spell over everything and everyone; that none save those of us involved should have any memory of the event we erased. We wanted to undo that suffering, but we also wanted to prevent mass searches for the stones. We can’t risk it happening again.”

“Then how come I remember?” You asked. There was much more mystery surrounding you right now than you were comfortable with.

“That is an excellent question!” Thor said. “And since you don’t seem to have any answers for us yourself, we will simply have to add it to the pile of things we have to figure out.”

“I would like to have answers too, but right now, I’m so tired.” An involuntary yawn punctuated your words. “Pardon me.”

“Yes, of course.” Thor said. “Loki will take you to bed.”

“Absolutely not!” You screeched.

“Phrasing!” Loki snapped.

Thor looked like he was having a very hard time not laughing, which you didn’t appreciate at all. That was a terrifying prospect, and one you were not in the least willing to entertain. Loki looked perturbed as well, so at least you were both on the same page.

“I’m sorry, ____, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that!” A little laughter did escape him, fueling your annoyance. It wasn’t a laughing matter. Neither of these men had better start getting ideas. Just because they were divine rulers didn’t mean they could take liberties. You still had rights. Didn’t you?

“Buffoon.” Loki grumbled. “Come. I’ll see you to your room.”

You got to have your own room? That sounded promising. You followed along behind him, sleepy and quiet, swimming in the events of the day. It was all so much to take in, but maybe sleeping on it would help. Loki led you back to the set of rooms you’d earlier had your bath in, letting you inside and addressing the young man standing guard at the door. You couldn’t understand what they were saying, but the young man seemed mildly confused and upset. He kept shooting you curious looks, and eventually he patted you reassuringly on the shoulder, and nodded at you. Then he went into the smaller of the two bedrooms, gathered his things, and left. He even waved at you on his way out, as if he was trying to convey no hard feelings without being able to actually speak to you.

“Uh…Your Highness? Did I just kick that guy out of his room?” You asked, feeling very guilty.

“No.” Loki assured you. “These rooms are mine, and I decide who may use them, and for how long. There is room for him in our guardhouse, it was just more convenient for him to be close by. Now it is more convenient for you to be here.”

“Because we don’t know how far apart we can be, or for how long. I get it.” There wasn’t much in the room; a bed, a desk with a chair, a small dresser, and one window. The floor and walls were bare, and there was one lamp on the desk, but no other lights. Well, you didn’t need much right now, and you owned practically nothing here, not even the shirt on your back, so this was much better than you had feared it would be.

“I feel like we can probably have a respectable distance between us, just not miles, and certainly not an entire ocean. However, I also feel like we should sleep closer together. Partly for your own safety, and partly because it seems to me that the focus of this draining sickness was our mutual dreams. “

He took a seat in the chair while you crawled into the plain little bed.

“Will you tell me about them?” He asked. “I know we were both having dreams, and I think we were connected through them, but you said yours were nightmares. Mine were not. I wonder about the differences.”

“Ugh. They weren’t anything complicated, but they were always the same. There was this big blankness that I just wanted to sink into so that I could finally rest, but you wouldn’t let me. You just kept dragging me away, and you wouldn’t let me sleep. You were scary, and it was torture, not being able to rest.”

He nodded slowly, writing something down in a small notebook you were sure he hadn’t had just a second before.

“Mine were…similar, but the perspective was different. That void was death, and I was compelled to keep you from it.”

“Do you think we’ll still dream?” You asked.

“Only one way to find out.”

“Right. Can you, uh…”

“Oh. Yes, of course.” He left, closing the door behind him. You might have heard the lock turn, but you were already drifting off.

*********

The void beckoned you, a promise of rest and freedom, but now you knew it might not be as benign as it seemed. Loki clutched your arm, frightening with his horns and cold eyes, but now you knew he might not be as malign as he seemed. You spent the rest of your dream there, between two deceivers, not sure which one to choose.

#lasabrjotr #loki x reader #loki (marvel)#thor (marvel)#avengers #marvel fanfiction

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lord-dusk · 5 years

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Jurassic Emblem-Chapter 9

You thought JE was merely fantasy? Well, my friend, your mind is about to be mind-blown! >:3

Teba and Warbler were in the deep sea. Specifically, 35 meters below the isle of Nifl, surrounded by what what appeared to be a frenzy of shear-toothed chameleon-sharks and flame-spewing dolphin-lizards.

How did Teba and Warbler end up in this crazy shit? Well you sea, the two mercenaries had escaped confinement by feigning their death. It wasn’t very easy, given how excellent the olfactory senses of raptors are, and many predators can easily distinguish between a sleeping living creature and a creature whose brains and hearts have stopped. By coating himself and Warbler with their own feces, they had disguised themselves as luxurious buffets for flies, and Echo and Charlie wasted no time to toss the mercs into a man-hole.

Unknowingly to the raptors, the dilo and the salamander were still alive, albeit smelly. They were wandering through the sewers underneath Askr when the floor began to quiver upwards. Teba knew too damn well that shoggoth Andromeda had some news to report to them. They were, under the newly assigned orders by Sha’Rad Yuwi, to find Lucina and the raptors and have them dead with twelve days. Even Warbler for all her toxic personality felt a shiver down her spine;if there was one thing Sha’Rad Yuwi was good at, it was killing subordinates who disappointed her, and Teba and Warbler nodded their hands reluctantly.

“What about the embryos however?” Teba asked.

“Ahhn, don’t worry cute-boy~<3, I’ll take care of things on my part too~.” Andromedra replied in her own lewd way. “Ahhn, I hear Luci-Bluci are at Nifl, so there’s a chance it might be a water level. Teba, you’re fine as you are since you are an amphibian, though you might want this Warbler.” Andromeda formed a part of her gooey body into a cylindrical tank with tubing and a respirator, detached it, and gave the whole thing to Warbler.

“Oh I get it! Now that’s what they call Direct Kissing:French Maid edition!” Warbler cackled.

“Glad you like it, Warbler-chan~” Andromeda was burning hot, despite the cold damp sewers. “Ahhhn, it’s so cute to see you two cuties ready for your mission that I can’t wait for you to COME on down~!”

PLOOOSH! Teba and Warbler were thrown to the water by a push from Andromeda. Warbler immediately donned the respirator, attached the cylinder onto her back. Teba started to swim towards the mouth of the sewer, make their way through the Askran waterways, and head on out towards Nifl where those velociraptors are.

*********

The waters were dark and freezing, Teba thought. He had hoped that as an aquatic creature, this mission would be relatively easy, given how the environment is within his forte. You would expect Warbler to be a popsicle by now, but she was surprisingly resilient, furiously paddling to create thermal radiation. It had been four days since they headed out from Askr and the two mercs were starting to feel fatigued. Periodically they sit down and rest on the rocky bottoms, eating passing fish that swam by.

They came across a sign. A metal crossing sign on a rocky cliff over looking a patch of sea-floor below that was neon-lit with various fluorescent lights. Skyscrapers rising into the water column, illuminating the otherwise black sea.

Teba was quite out of breath, and decided to rest adjacent to the crossing sign. “This looks like a very suitable place to recharge our batteries, so to speak,” the samurai said. “The view here is very magnificently beautiful I might add.”

“I could use a nice bottle of Caubernot Sauvignon to go with the view!” Warbler spoke, stretching her arms and legs. “ My body’s aching from all that swimming we just did over the past few days-wait, Teba, how many days had passed since we left that jail?”

“Well, the answer’s already in the above paragraph.” Teba answered. “Look above.”

“........Awww shit-!! Shit! Fuck! FOUR DAYS!?! Holy macaroni-with-wine the deadline’s in three days! That angry bitch is going to rip our spines out if those rowdy-raptors aren’t dead by then!!”

Teba pat his hand on Warbler’s head, stroking her white hair. “Don’t be so edgy. I have a feeling that those raptors are closer to us than you might expect.”

Teba loosened up somewhat. “Whats makes you so sure of that?”

“Nothing in particular. I am not exactly sure if my theory is correct, but something is telling me that the lizards we’re hunting are right above us at the surface.”

“You mean those sharky-looking things with googly eyes, long tongues, and fiery throats?” Warbler pointed her finger behind Teba.

“What ‘shark-things’?” Teba questioned, as he spun his head. What he saw chilled him even more than the surrounding water.

There were a massive swarm of sharks all around them, but they weren’t exactly “normal” sharks that you think of. They were lime-green whose flanks had a red horizontal stripe running down from their odd jaws that are likened to a pair of shears with one row of teeth on each mandible. Vertical light-blue bands crossed the red stripes, and the sharks possessed strange, calculating eyes situated on fleshy pink stalks that spun and twitched periodically.

Almost like the aquatic version of a chameleon,Teba thought, frowning.

There was another group of creatures as well, creatures that resembled dolphins, save for their curious three-lobed tails shaped like those from airplanes, and they were ivory white with splotches of ember orange on them. Their snouts were particularly long, like a gharial’s, and indeed, embers were falling out their mouths.

“Awww hell. Why can’t happy things ever happen to bad guys like us?” Warbler groaned.

Teba was just about to ready his katana blades into battle when something smacked around his belly, wrapping him up and tightening, causing him to drop one of his blades unto the ground. He didn’t have to realize that he was seized by the elongated tongue of one of the chameleon-sharks, and the creature was pulling Teba towards its jaws and was about to slice him in two when the samurai managed to stab his katana under the creature’s upper jaw and out its forehead between the eye-stalks. A deep crimson cloud filled with pieces of brain seep out and the chameleon-shark loosened its grip on Teba, and he was released.

But when a previous danger passes, a new one immediately begins. A dolphin had opened its jaws agape, and spewed out expansive flames near Teba. The amphibious samurai leapt into the water column, barely missing the flames as a piece of ember had caught on his yukata.

Warbler picked up Teba’s second katana blade and proceeded to slice apart several of the chameleon-sharks and fire-breathing dolphins.”Take that bitches! Oh hey, you dolphins remind me of Celicunt from Echoes-because you girls all have celiac disease from guzzling down raw flour all day! Kahahahahaha~!” Several heads,fins,and tails floated down towards the ground as the waters were reddened by blood and organs-not that you see them in the darkness anyway.

“I see that you’re quite invigorated once more,” Teba remarked, slicing apart fire-dolphins and chameleon-sharks here and there. “If you don’t mind, I think I would like one of my blades back.”

“Sure thing Tebs!” Warbler chirped as she tossed the katana blade she was wielding towards the samurai, kabobing more sharks and dolphins in the process. The dilophosaur took her Dragonstone from her breast pocket, and proceeded to transform into her saurian form, and tore apart more of the creatures.

“Sword Shield”. Teba activated his signature move. Emanating electromagnetic impulses, he spun his blades all around himself hand-free and shredded apart more sharks and dolphins. The shield might not be able to block the dolphin’s flame-spewing, but it’ll certainly chop the tongues of those water-chameleons.

There was more slaughter when a bright magenta laser had pierced the ground between the mercenaries and the creatures.

“Alright ladies and mentlegen, why don’t we channel your violence into something more productive?”

A tall inigo-magenta man was floating down from the water column, and landed between one of the dolphins and Teba.

“Dear me, what if Lady Basilice sees this chaos? She might add it as an action sequence in her writing, tough she does appreciate there will be a percentage of persons that will find carnage as appealing as moldy cotton candy.”

“What reason do you have for stopping our fighting?” Teba questioned the man in front of him, his attire the opposite tone of the samurai’s yukata. While Teba wore yukata that were colorful but not overly garish, the man’s clothes were very flashy. His jacket was deep navy with white and magenta lines, his boots were the same theme, and the man wore blood-red headphones around his ears. Pink and purple chromatophores running down on his cheek and hands added to the neon effect.

The fluorescent man waved to the remaining sharks and dolphins. They held their tongues and fire. “Listen, these guys here saw you wandering on this cliff and they simply wanted to welcome you to our city Neon Choral,” the man explained. “It would seem there was a huge misunderstanding and there was quite the ruckus.”

“May I have your name?” Teba asked.”It would be very tedious to the reader if they had to call a flashy fellow like you ‘The Man.’‘‘

“Call me Laba. Labea Iridophorous. And I would like to treat you to a local tea-house as a form of apology.”

“Will there be some sake as well?” Warbler licked her lips.

“Oh yes, there will be, my dear,” Laba answered, smiling. “In fact, I think I can escort you to those surface lizards you’re so eager to hunt.”

#jurassic emblem #fire emblem heroes #jurassic world #teba #warbler #andromeda #fanfiction #can you guess the actual name for the creatures Teba and Warbler were fighting?#tried to do a deep-sea effect right there

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red-and-blue-sewer-circus-arc · 6 years

Text

CHANGING FACES

Arnie Miller's day started poorly and went downhill fast.

After he finished cleaning and shaving he made himself a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast and watched half an hour of the news. Nothing happy going on that he could see and one of his acquaintances had been violently mutilated. Matthew Sechrist was dead. Maddy the Clown was deceased, and not by natural causes.

For now, it was time to get ready, so he got himself off the sofa, scarfed down the last of his eggs, he put on his war paint: Titanium white face and a big blue curly haired wig: blue triangles under his eyes and above them as well, a bright red smile and blue dimples to accent it. Finally, of course, the red nose. Next came his regalia: a loose, gigantic white outfit with green polka dots, and an orange tie with matching green spots; two purple shoes, size 32, and a top hat that was a perfect match for his oversized tie.

"You'd think so, wouldn't you? But I saw a clown with almost the same face over near the merry-go-round." Lou said the words with a false casual voice.

"Excuse me?" There was nothing mild in Arnie's voice. Clown faces were serious business. Every clown tried to look unique. Hell, there had been lawsuits over faces that were too similar and Arnie didn't much want to get involved in one of those. His face was close to one that had been used back in the sixties. He'd seen the clown as a kid and been stuck with that face in his mind, because the guy had left such an impression on him. It wasn't like he'd stolen the design: he'd just borrowed heavily from it. Besides, he remembered hearing the clown and his whole troupe had died a few months later in a bad fire.

By the time Arnie found the other clown, the fair had opened. The man was dressed in a bright red coat and suit, with enough sequins to just about blind a person. Unlike a lot of clowns, his outfit looked custom tailored to fit his tall, lean body. The outfit looked as if it had just been made and was finished off with a matching top hat and well polished dress shoes, complete with dark red spats. He was, without a doubt, the most dapper clown Arnie had ever seen.

The clown looked at him and Arnie saw the shock on the thin face, written under the makeup that left a smile painted in place.

"Well, what have we here, boys and girls?" Arnie blinked as the clown spun towards him, the bright blue eyes looking him over from top to bottom. Arnie swallowed hard and tried to recover from the unexpected change. The lanky clown moved over to him and slid up beside him with slick, almost spidery motions.

He leaned in close, and put his lips next to Arnie's ear. "What's your name, Ace?" "F-Fast Freddie." Rufo sprang back as soon as Arnie had answered. "Fast Freddie! I thought I'd never see you again!" His voice went up in octaves, high enough to almost sound feminine, and then he jumped forward and wrapped his arms around Arnie in a wild, exaggerated hug. Before Arnie knew what was happening, he was off the ground, lifted like he was nothing more than a child by a man who was thinner than he was. The arms around his ribcage squeezed like a python and for a moment he thought his ribs would break. Then he was sat down and Rufo stepped back, grinning broadly for everyone.

Arnie was following the man's every move, so he didn't really understand how the other clown had just vanished, but that was exactly what happened. He looked away for only an instant and Rufo was gone. There was a serious feeling that something was not right with Rufo the clown and that sense was only increased by the strength of the man.

"Please... please mister, I did like you asked, didn't I?" The sounds were coming from one booth over and Arnie looked around the rear corner of his resting spot and saw Lou trembling.

"You sure did, Mister Peasley. You did it just as nice and right as you could have, and that's why I gave you the fifty bucks." The voice was low and raspy and sent shivers of goose flesh across Arnie's back.

"Then why are you doing this?" Lou's voice cracked a bit.

"Know what the problem with you is, Mister Peasley?" Lou shook his head. "The problem is you sold out one of your friends for fifty bucks. How trustworthy do you think that makes you?"

"Oh God, Oh God, please no..." Lou backed up, his head shaking from side to side, and as he moved back the source of the shadow stepped forward. Rufo the clown looked at Mister Peasley and grinned. "That's just what Maddy said, right before I ripped his eyes out."

"What's that, Mr Peasley?" The man leaned over Lou and scrutinized his face.

"What's what?" Lou gasped as he started to sit up.

Rufo's hand shot forward and grabbed at Lou's face. Arnie watched on, unbelieving as the clown rammed his gloved thumb into the soft orb of Lou's left eye. "You've got something in your eye..."

Rufo laughed, a sound that had nothing whatsoever to do with joy. Then Rufo did it again. He reached out with his free hand and caught Lou's tongue between his finger and thumb. Lou kept screaming, trying to get away as the red flowed from his closed eyelid. Rufo pulled back and Lou's head followed for a moment before the flesh of his tongue sliced away from his mouth.

"Jesus Christ!" Arnie opened his mouth and said words before he realized what he was doing.

"Oh, Fast Freddie, I don't think He's here right now, do you?" Rufo winked at him and dripped Lou's tongue to the ground.

"Okay, Arnie. What we have here is a problem."

"You gonna kill me?" Arnie had no doubt the clown could. None at all. There was something about the man under the paint that unsettled him. Probably it was his violent tendencies.

Rufo looked his way and shrugged. "Well, I should. I mean, look at what I did to Mister Peasley over there, and he really didnt do that much to offend me." "Why did you do it?" "Why?" Rufo looked back at Lou, who was starting to crawl around. "Well, he really wasn't a very good clown, was he? I didn't see him make a single kid laugh."

"Without the makeup we're all just faces in the crowd. Why do you think clowns protect their faces so avidly?"

Rufo's eyes rolled towards the heavens. "I said, go kill Peasley and I'll let you live. You have to change the makeup, but other than that, we'll be even-stevens." "You can't be serious." Rufo popped up into a standing position like a jack-in-the-box and moved toward Arnie. Arnie flinched back as the other clown got right in his face. "Is this the face of a joker? Of course I'm serious! You or Peasley, who do you value more in this world?"

"I can't kill Lou. He's my friend!"

"He sold you out for fifty dollars, Fast Freddie."

"I can't do this. I'm not a killer." He shook his head and looked at the ground at his feet. "Not even if it was a mercy killing?" Arnie couldn't think of a proper response. So he went with the first thing that came to mind. "Okay, you took his tongue, but there's always a life as a mime." "Now how is living as a mime a good thing?" The other clown sounded indignant. "Well.. okay. That's true."

Couldn't we just settle this in court?" Arnie's voice was failing him and he squeaked like a kid who's voice was just starting to break. "Freddie," Rufo bent forward, his hands resting on his knees. "If I wanted to go to court, I'd have to prove to everyone that I'm still alive. You aren't worth the effort." He stood back up and looked down on Lou and Arnie alike. "Besides, there's that whole murder and mutilation thing to consider. Most courts don't like it when clowns go all violent."

Rufo stared at him for several seconds, the grin under his smile unwavering. Then he stepped forward and drove the heel of his foot into the flabby neck of Lou, who was still lying on the ground and moaning. Lou's face shoved hard in the dirt, and Arnie heard the bones in his neck breaking. There was no mistaking the sound, or the fact that it killed Lou instantly. "I'm here to stay Fast Freddie."

Arnie screamed. That was a bit more than he was willing to deal with, and he let loose with a girly shriek and bolted past the funnel cake stand and into the main area of the fair. He stopped when he'd cleared a good fifty yards and looked back, fully expecting Rufo to be on his heels, but there was nothing, no one.

By the time the police arrived, the security guard had Arnie hog tied with plastic bags and was strutting around like a rooster. The cops untied Arnie long enough to ask him a few hundred questions. When they were finished, Arnie was in the back of a police cruiser and wearing actual handcuffs instead of plastic bags. It took three days for Arnie to get up the bail to get out of his jail cell. He didn't much mind. One way or another his career as a clown was at an end

"I just wanted to make the kids happy, really. I like kids." He knocked back half of his beer in salute to the children and let out a deeply satisfying belch. "That's why I've decided to let you live anyway." Rufo's voice came from directly behind him.

Arnie couldn't have jumped higher if someone had electrified his ass. The other clown was standing behind Arnie's recliner, smiling, with Fireball in his hands. The traitorous cat was slumped along the clown's forearm and purring. "I thought about it, Arnie. You're a good clown. You make kids laugh." He shrugged and let Fireball drop into the chair, where the beast promptly got comfortable again.

Arnie looked carefully at the clown in front of him and shivered. The face he wore wasn't makeup. The triangles of blue had been cut into the other clown's face; as had the red lips and the dimples and the dot on his nose. He'd been wearing makeup to hide that fact at the fair.

"See why I'm partial to my looks, Arnie? They aren't going to go away. Find a new face and we'll get along just fine." Arnie just looked at the man and shivered. Insanity seemed to come off of Rufo like a palpable wave.

"I'm done here. Change your face or the next time I see you, I'll cut your face off your skull and make it into a seat cushion. Do we understand each other?" Arnie nodded his head so hard he thought he might break his own neck from the force.

"Take care of Fireball. He'll be watching you." The clown headed to the front door and stopped with his hand on the knob. "You know, if you mention me they'll think you're crazy right?"

"I won't mention you."

"Bonko's getting out tomorrow. He's probably gonna want to talk to you about the three years for stealing your truck."

Arnie nodded his head and smiled. "He's a bad clown." "What do we do with bad clowns, Arnie?" That was a quandary. He really wasn't sure how to answer, but the longer he looked into Rufo's eyes, the more he thought he understood. "We- we punish them?" Rufo nodded and smiled. "That we do, Arnie. Take care of my light work for me okay?"

Bonko was a big boy and he fought dirty, but Arnie nodded anyway. "I think I can do that. I really think I can." Rufo nodded one last time and quietly slipped through the door.

Arnie moved to the kitchen and looked at his assortment of knives. There were a couple of them that would fit through Bonko's ribs without any trouble at all, and the meat cleaver, well that could do a lot of damage to Bonko's head. "Gonna need a new face, anyway. Bonko's was always nice."

One Bad Week by James A. Moore

#rufo the clown #james a moore #rufo #my moodboards #evil clown #horror book recommendation #horror books #moodboards #rufo moodboard #one bad week #the joker #the new joker #rip off rufo

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