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its-deputy-caleb · 3 years

Note

Hi do you think you do the 4 lords reaction to finding out their GN s/o has a shadow demon that goes wherever they go and some time find the 2 of them playing board games

Hiii!! okay important note here! i decided to go a little off topic (sorry) for the purpose of a part 2 where the lord’s s/o will be an angel!! of course still gender neutral and there will be a shadow demon but the s/o will be a demon that hasn’t fully formed yet!

i’ve been really uninspired lately so this probably isn’t my best! i apologise :((

Devil or Angel? Pt.1

General HC’s

It was strange how quickly your life had changed. One morning you were just a normal villager in some godforsaken town in the middle of nowhere Romania and the next day you woke up from the cold dirty ground with a pair of huge dark wings and sharp nails.

You had been exploring some of the woodlands surrounding the village, looking for a water source which was running low when a dark figure came barrelling towards you. It felt like hours, when really it was only a few seconds of sharp searing pain. Maybe it was a bad idea to leave the village alone.

You didn’t die however, or maybe you did? You weren’t quite sure what was happening to your body. All you knew was it must have been something supernatural to make the huge black wings appear.

“Looks like you finally woke up! Do you know how fucking boring it is just waiting for you to wake up?”

You screamed in terror at the large demonic creature floating above you. It was surrounded by a cloud of black mist with red eyes that pierced through its silhouette. It had a large wicked smile aligned with sharp teeth and a set of wings that matched your own.

Behind those eyes was something much more human however, in fact it looked rather bored.

“Who, or what are you?! And mind that language!”

The creature only laughed at you, amused by the whole situation which bothered you beyond compare.

“Well I’m a demon, if I didn’t swear you’d probably think me an angel with these playful charms I posses! And to be more specific I’m your demon, it seems you fell prey to one of the other demons condemned to this world it’s quite the tragedy really.”

You were shocked at just how easily this creature, this demon talked to you. As if it was a completely normal morning and life in the village had not changed at all.

“Oh don’t act so shocked, you medieval villagers have been worshiping my kind for a lot longer than that Mother Miranda. You’re one of us now!”

Surprisingly over time the creature, who’d you’d nicknamed “red” for their glowing eyes, was slowly growing on you. You might even call them a friend.

Sure Red was cocky as all hell and didn’t hesitate to cause trouble amongst the village but they became very protective over you and showed you the ropes on life as a demon.

Life can get kinda boring when you’re practically immortal and so you and red pass the time playing old Romanian board games and solitaire. When village life got really boring you even stooped so low to play go fish together.

A lot of the time you cause mischief in and around the village while Red was practically the devil on your shoulder, egging you on to stir the pot. The lycans were particularly enjoyable to taunt.

Regardless of everything, you couldn’t see yourself without Red and to lose them would crush you. There had been one too many nights when you’d chat about everything and nothing until you fell asleep curled up underneath your wings.

That was when you felt a protective wing curl around you, one that wasn’t your own.

“Always gotta fall asleep on me don’t you, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll have you partying all night before you know it kiddo.”

Alcina Dimitrescu

It started out as a stupid dare when Red dared you to sneak into Castle Dimitrescu and steal the Lady’s lipstick after hearing the village gossip that it was expensive.

You did not expect however to get caught in the hallway, starting straight up into the eyes of Alcina Dimitrescu, a stuttering and blushing mess. It was something that Red would tease you for until eternity ended.

After winning her favour, both you and Red were invited to stay in the Castle with Alcina and her daughters. She thought you were much better company than her brother and her affluent but gothic lifestyle totally appealed to you.

As it turns out you and Alcina had a lot more in common, both being creatures of a supernatural nature. You enjoyed the lazy afternoons curled up on the couch, a glass of maidens blood in your hand as she gentle stroked the back of her hand against your wings.

You had the finest outfits that matched your black wings perfectly and everything was tailor made so you were comfortable.

Red taught you how to fly so you were able to use your wings to be at eye level with Alcina which was perfect for hugs and kisses.

It turns out that Red is a great babysitter for the girls and keeps them entertained with hunting maidens and chasing them around the Castle while you and Alcina can spend some time together.

Donna Beneveinto

At first, Donna is truly scared of you and Red much like how you were in the beginning. But eventually, with the help of Angie she saw that you were not going to harm her.

You loved to spend time with Donna and watch her make her dolls or sew her dresses. Sometimes Red will come back with Angie from a day of causing trouble to find you reading to her another encyclopaedia of plants. Her head is resting on your chest and your wings are wrapped around her protectively while you read.

Your favourite thing to do together is to take Donna into your arms and fly to the top of the mountain where the waterfall begins and watch the sunset together. She’ll always have a deathly grip on your hand the whole time even though you’ve reassured her that you’d never drop her.

One time when you leaned in and gave her a kiss, a rather loud noise was heard from the corner and interrupted you.

“EWWW you guys are too cute!! All that lovey-dovey stuff makes me sick!”

Red is standing to the side with Angie on their shoulder who is sitting there making her own dramatic faces. One of Angie’s wooden hands covers Red’s eyes while the other is held on her forehead as if the kiss was enough to kill her.

Besides from their comment both Angie and Red act like your wing man for your relationship with Donna. They absolutely love you two together and have set up many dates for the two of you.

Salvatore Moreau

You meet Salvatore Moreau one day when you’re at the reservoir playing hide and seek in the near by mines with Red.

As it’s your turn to hide you end up ducking between some planks to find a tv set up and a small couch. Sitting in the middle of it happens to be someone you now know as Sal.

He thought you were going to kill him at first, hiding his face in his hands but very slowly after some months he saw that you weren’t a threat.

Over this time trying to convince Sal that you weren’t going to hurt him and trying to spend more time with him, Red took the opportunity to tease you for your crush.

“I think someone’s in got a little crush hmm??”

Eventually you become very close with Sal and the two of you will playfully chase each other at the reservoir. Sal will swim just below the surface while you fly just above it and your fingers brush together just where the water meets the air.

One time when you were chasing Red around the rooftops of the old village, you slipped and fell into the water, something that your large feathery wings did not enjoy and Red had to pull you out.

You ended up bundled on the couch with Sal, a bunch of blankets around you as your wings dried out. It took forever and you ended up a giant bundle of fluffy feathers but Sal thought you looked adorable.

Karl Heisenberg

Karl caught you and Red taunting the lycans when he went to check on them at their den one day. At the site of you two he raised an eyebrow and proceeded to light a cigar.

“I think you two may be lost, don’t you know it’s dangerous out here?”

You can hear the sarcasm in his voice and you spread your wings out to be intimidating, Red’s black mist behind you adding to it.

“Indeed it is very dangerous out here, I’d hate for you to get hurt.”

It was then when the three of you burst into a fit of laughter knowing that you were the strongest creatures in these woods and nothing could really hurt either of you.

Both you and Karl had a mischievous side and spent a lot of time causing trouble for his sister in her Castle.

It was fun to spend time with Karl and you both grew rather close. He even trusted you enough to let you help him on some of his plans and designs.

Red was particularly fond of the idea of killing Mother Miranda.

“Ooh when she’s gone can I have my picture put back up?! Pretty please!”

Karl designed his soldats with a red glowing chest plate that reminded him of your red glowing eyes which now matched Red’s.

While Karl will deny it forever, he’s completely in awe of you and finds you absolutely breathtaking. He can’t get over how soft your wings are and always cuddles up to you complaining that it’s cold even though it’s sweltering hot in the factory.

One day Karl took you by surprise and kissed you gently but with a degree of confidence which took him months to find. You melted into him and wrapped your arms around him securely, completely forgetting Red who’s hovering in the room.

“Guys I hate to break it to you but I’m kinda third wheeling here…”

Needless to say, Red third wheeled a lot and ended up befriend Sturm as an alternative to watching you guys make out.

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #salvatore moreau #salvatore moreau x reader #resident evil village #resident evil headcanons #resident evil 8 #resident evil #asks #prompt

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fluffywings13 · 3 years

Text

Five Seconds

This is for @wolfiegirl625-2

I hope you like it friend! Sorry it took so long to get out!

...

Izuku’s learned many things in his time as Hawks assistant.

One, the man is weak to jump scares, seriously, hide behind a corner and jump out and yell ‘BOO’ and the man would shriek like a little girl on Christmas morning.

Two, the man is terrified of spiders, he’d been going through old files once and pointed at a spider (no bigger then his pinky nail mind you) and the hero shrieked and jumped out of his chair, literally, he lifted himself completely from the ground.

Three, the man was convinced that, A) Izuku was going to get himself killed before he reached twenty-one, and B) Izuku would cause him to go gray prematurely, and C) Both.

Four, the man is a brutal tickle monster who took pleasure in watching him suffer (even if he did enjoy it) and went out of his way to take him down.

And, five, the man gave the best cuddles. A+++++ grade cuddles. He’s talking wing blanket, head scratches, nuzzles, the whole enchilada.

Izuku has also learned that when he hears “You have five seconds to run” you skiddoodle skidaddle your self outta there.

Which is where we find him now, running through the halls in the hero’s agency, the man chasing after him shouting for those they pass to catch him (which was cheating but he’ll digress that he probably deserves it), as fake blood drips down his face.

He pranked his boss.

That’s right, he pranked him, how you might ask, he pretended to be dead. Was super convincing too, the man admitted so many things to him while he thought he was dying in his arms. It was cruel, but hilarious at the same time, so, in his opinion, ten outta ten.

Bursting through the Agency’s front doors, he takes a sharp right and dives into the crowded sidewalk, weaving between people, bumping shoulders with some of them, and cackles when he hears his hero swear up a storm when he loses sight of him. It’s a brief moment, before he feels the calculating predatorial eyes on his back, and the sound of boots smacking the pavement as the chase is restarted.

It takes about ten minutes before he hears Keigo say—“Wait, I can fly.” Which makes him cackle again because the winged hero forgot he could fly.

Ducking under the hands that reach out for him, he makes another sharp right into an alley, hears the man yelp as he almost flies into a fire escape, and the strong beats of his wings as he corrects himself.

Izuku screams when hands curl under his arms and the ground drops out from under him, kicking his feet, not so much out of terror of the fact he was just whisked off the ground, but by the fact that he knows what comes next. He kicks the man in the shin when they land on the balcony to his office, the hero yelps and lets go instinctively, and Izuku darts forward, for the door, shrieking when he’s swooped off his feet by a flurry of red feathers, and carried back to the hero who’s mercy he’s left at.

Keigo grins at him, hands on his hips, and leans forward when they’re face to face. “You had your fun, you little shit, now it’s my turn.”

“Come on man, can’t we talk about this?” The greenette pleads as he’s dangle upside down. “It really wasn’t so bad, was it?”

The hero pinches his nose and he yelps. “You made me think you were legitimately dying, it is that bad, you’re in for it this time, Eyas, you got me good, I’ll admit, and now it’s my turn to return the favor.” He turns around, gesturing for him over his shoulder, and the feathers follow after him as he steps around his desk for the oasis in the back, Izuku struggles, kicking out and flailing his arms, yelping when the feathers give out, and he drops unceremoniously into the work nest. “This is gonna be good.” He struggles again when the hero flops down into the nest with him, the feathers keep him from moving all too much, hands catch his ankles and guide them back around behind the man and he yelps when he’s tugged forward, legs resting over the hero’s thighs as he’s settled between his legs. “It’s been forever since you pranked me, remember how bad it was last time, need a reminder maybe?”

“No! Nononono!” The teen shakes his head frantically. “I don’t! It was a lapse in judgement!”

“It sure was.” Keigo nods as he pushes his shirt up to uncover his belly. “A huge lapse in judgement.” He raises his hands and the teen giggles frantically as the man’s talons grow out, he’s got a few bad spots, but all around, the talons, anywhere with the talons, was the worst. “One I’ll make sure you regret.”

Izuku sucks in his belly when the hero rests his talons on it, on his lower belly, giggling frantically despite the lack of movement, the talons are the worst, one thousand percent the worst. He shrieks with giggles when they start to scratch lightly, soft feather light scratching, and it’s enough that it drives him insane, as he giggles crazily and yanks at his arms restrained by a number of feathers. “Kehehehehei nohohohoho! Nohohohohot thehehehehee tahahahahhaalons! Ihihihihi’m sohohohohorry!” (Kei no! Not the talons! I’m sorry!”

“Not as sorry as you’re gonna be.” Keigo scratches up the boys belly slowly, nothing harsh, nothing over the top, just light scratching with his talons, and the teen’s already dying, not even a minute into his revenge, and the boy’s already gone. “By the time I’m done with you, you’re not gonna be able to stop from giggling at the mere thought of pranking me again.” He rests at the teen’s lower ribs, scratching lightly, tracing small circles with his index finger talons, and the teen shrieks and squirms, arching to one side, then the other, and arching his back as he presses his chin to his chest. The man scratches over to his sides, and spiders down slowly, before heading back up again, down once more, up again, and down. “Coochie coochie coo, cutie bird.”

The teen squirms from side to side, like a little worm, giggling and shrieking, and shaking his head.

“Wanna play the spider game?”

“Nohoho! Nohhohhohoho pleheheheheease!” (No! No please!) Izuku shrieks and squeals at the mention of that game. “Noohohohohot thehehehehee spiihihihiiider gahahahahhaaame! Pleheheheheease!” (Not the spider game! Please!)

“The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout.” He spiders his talons up the teen’s sides lightly and scratches lightly at his lower ribs, smiling at the way he shrieks with giggles and struggles against his feathers, shaking his head fondly as he spiders his talons back down. “Down came the rain and washed the spider out.” The man scratches at the boy’s hip bones with his thumb talons and the teen squeals brightly. “Out came the sun and dried up all the rain.” Keigo spiders his talons back up the teen’s side and the boy shrieks, biting his lip against his giggles, before bursting. “And the itsy bitsy spider climbed up the spout again.” He scratches back over his ribs and slowly down his belly, pausing in the middle, scratching at the sides of his tummy. “This is just the warm up, Eyas, we haven’t even gotten to the real punishment and you’re already losing it.”

Izuku is very much aware of this, sir, you don’t need to tell him.

“Okay, I’ve played nice for long enough, let’s get our hands a little dirty now.” The teen shakes his head pleadingly when the hero changes positions, laying over top of him, shrinking his talons for this next part. “Now comes the real punishment.”

He squeals and cackles when ten fingers claw into his left side, twisting up, the hero’s braces his left forearm around his back, and those ten fingers move over to claw into his right side as he squeals with laughter and feels a sense of instant regret. “Keheheheheheeieieieiaiaaahahahhahahahahaha aahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahaha nohhohohohohohohohoho! Pleheheheheheheheeeease! Eieieaiaiaahahahahahahahahhahahahaahaaa aahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahaa aaaahahahahahahhahahahahahhahahahahaaa!” (Kei no! Please!) He falls limply against the arm curled down his back as the hero claws his fingers over his side, up and down, deep and sharp, and he howls, cackling madly, before the arm around his back moves and he makes the mistake of twisting up again, allowing those ten fingers to claw into his left side uninhibited again. “Nohohohohohoo! Eeieieiaaiaahahahahahahahahhahahahaa pleheheheheheease! Pleheheheheheease! Eeaiaiaiahahahahahahhahahahaa ahahahahahahahahhahahahahaa Keheheheheheheheei! Nohohohohoho mohohohohoore! Nohohohohoho mohohohohohore!” (No! Please! Please! Kei! No more! No more!)

“Why not? Does my little cutie bird have ticklish sides?” Keigo smiles at the kid’s bright squeals. “You sure do, cutie bird, you sure do.” He lets the boy fall back onto his back and rests his fingers on his belly. “Now it’s time for this tummy.” The hero pokes around the teen’s belly. “Oh, I’m gonna get this tummy something bad, real good.”

The hero takes a deep breath and bows his head. “Eeieiaiaaiahahahahahahhahahahaa!” Izuku squeals before the man even touches him, watching his blonde head closely, and squeals again when he tilts to the side. “Eeieaiaiahahahahahahahahahahaha!” And again when he tilts to the other side. “Eeieiaiaahahahahahahahahhahhaaha Keheheheheei!” (Kei!) The hero’s just enjoying himself at this point. “Eeieiaiaiaaahahahhahahahahahaa!” He bows his head over his belly button and he squeals louder. “EIEIAIAAIAAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAA NOHOHOHHHOHOHO!” (NO!) Keigo blows out lightly over his belly button and he squeals as he arches his back into the man’s lips, to which he curls his arms under him, takes another breath and finally blows the raspberry he’s been teasing him with. “EEIEIAIAIAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA AAHAHAHAHAHHEHEHEAIEAIAAIAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA NOHOHOHOHOHOOOHOOO KEHEHEHEHEEIIEIEIEIEAEAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHOREEIEEIAIAEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA IHIHIHIHIHIHI’M SOHOHOHOHORRYYY EIEAIAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAA NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEHEERREEIEIEIAIAEAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAA NOHOHOHOHOHOT TTHEHEHEIEEIAIAIAIAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!” (No Kei! No more! I’m sorry! Not there not there!)

“Oh,” the hero rubs his nose over his belly and the smile is evident in his voice. “You’re getting at least a dozen raspberries, at least.” He presses a kiss to his belly button and the teen shrieks. “Over this button alone.”

“No! Nohohoho!” Izuku squirms desperately when the man slowly takes a deep breath. “Nonononono! Kei no! Plehehehease! Nooo!” There’s no forewarning, no teasing, the blonde merely buries his face over his belly button and starts on his promised raspberries. “EIEIEIAIAAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAA AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AEEIEAIAIEAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAA PFFFFAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AEEEEIEIAIIAAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAA NOHOHOHOHOHOHO PLEHEHEHEHEHEEASEEIIEIEAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA IHIHIHIHHIHI CAHAHAHHAHAAAN’T STAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAND IHIHIHIHIT NOHOHOHOHO EIEIEAIAEIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA AAHAHAHAHHAAHHHAHAHAA AEIEIEIAAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAA HOHOHOHOHOLD IHIHIHIHIT KEHEHEHEHEEI HOHOHOHOHOLD IHIHIHIHIT EIEIEIAIAAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA EEIEIEIIAIAEAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” (No please I cant stand it no hold it kei hold it) Seven in and Izuku feels tears gathering in his eyes. “EIEIEAIIAEAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA EIEIEIAIEAIAAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA KEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEEI NOHOHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHORE NOHOHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHOHOREEEIAIAIAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAA AEIEIEIAIEAIAAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAA! NOHOHOHO EIEIEIAIAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA AHAHAEHEEIEIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAA WAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAIT YOUHUHUHUHUHUHU SAHAHAHAHAHAAID DOHOHOHOZEEEEIEIEIEAIEAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAA AHAAHAHHAHAHAHAEEEIIAEIAIAAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!” (No more no more! No! Wait you said dozen!)

The teenage assistant continues to squeal with laughter as the hero continues blowing raspberries over his belly button, struggling desperately against the feathers holding his arms in place, it takes a few minutes of button raspberries before he starts screaming for help, which makes the man laugh into his belly, which makes him squeal again.

“No one’s coming to help you, little bird.” Keigo turns his head slightly. “It’s just you and me.”

“Keheheheei plehehehehease! I cahahahahan’t! I cahahahahan’t tahahahaake ihihihit!” (Kei please! I can’t! I can’t take it!) Izuku pleads through his giggles. “Nohohoho mohohohore! Ihihihit tihihihickles! Ihihihit tihihihickles sohohoho bahahahad! Nohohoho mohohohore raahahahahhaspberries!” (No more! It tickles! It tickles so bad! No more raspberries!)

“No more?” He wiggles a finger in the teen’s belly button and the boy squeals with laughter once more, squirming from side to side, arching his back into it, tears finally falling from his eyes. “Fine, fine, no more raspberries, but you get six minutes of this before I’m done.” Was it a tad mean, yes, yes it was, but so was making him think that the kid he was so incredibly fond of, his little baby bird, was dying and dead. “You better think twice before you decide you’re gonna prank me like this again.”

#ticklish!deku #ticklish!midoriya #parental hawks #deku and hawks #tickle monster hawks #tickle fic #hawks #mha hawks #ler!takamikeigo #ler!hawks #lee!deku #lee!midoriya #pranks #fake death #Dont prank hawks #Youve been warned #request

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levi-my-beloved · 3 years

Text

Birds of a Feather

Chapter 2

Pairings: Canon!Levi x F!Reader

Warnings: Violence, swearing, descriptions of sexual acts

Word count: 5.9K

Summary: You were the most notorious criminal in the Underground City. With your organisation of highly skilled professionals, only one man could take you down. He also happened to be Humanity’s Strongest… and your ex.

A/N: big ol’ oof i’m back again with more BoaF shenanigans. i’m having way too much fun with this, and i know i said chapters would be released every two weeks but i actually got way too excited not to post these sooner. haven’t had any issues with accidentally deleting this post yet, but i wouldn’t put it above myself. anyway, here’s chapter two of “Birds of a Feather”

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

You hated surprises. In all shapes and forms. You liked to be in control of the situation, able to predict every move your victims would make. The job was going smoothly, all the steps falling into place. Infiltrating the nearest MP warehouse was easy enough. Stealing medicine, ointments and food was child’s play. You wondered how any of them became members of the MP in the first place, considering how incompetent they were. Only a few throats had to be slit on the way, one of your knives now dripping in their blood. Running it through the crease of your elbow, the crimson came off on your leather suit. Various straps and holsters held knives and blades of all sorts, some were more intricately designed than others.

Crouched low behind a large, wooden crate, you remove one of the smaller daggers from your boot, now clutching it in your left hand. They seemed to have upped their security, judging by the increase of soldiers walking around the place, each with their own rifle on their backs. Shit, they were really getting fed up with you. A small, satisfied smirk sliced across your shrouded face. Even with upped security, this was easy as piss.

That was until a commotion above you had you stopping in your tracks. A strange zipping sound followed by what you could only assume was the releasing of gas filled the air, followed by shouts, some familiar, most unfamiliar. Shit, how the fuck did they know you were here?

It wasn’t long before you were scampering onto crates of weaponry, back up to the broken window in which you’d entered. Swinging up from a beam, you landed deftly on the windowsill, peering out. Dread pooled in your gut at the scene.

These soldiers had skills you’d never seen. Swooping and swivelling with expert precision, it would have been mesmerising if not for the fact that they were chasing your Shadows. Your family.

“Shit… PHANTOM AND RENDEZVOUS,” you shouted, your voice carrying across the rooftops. It was a simple command. Disappear and meet up back at the hideout. But, in doing so, you’d given away your position, and it wasn’t long before you too were racing across the rooftops.

Taking out a set of throwing knives from your waist, you leapt from the tiles onto a balcony, spinning behind you and throwing two of the steel blades at those who were in your pursuit. Both knives hit home, sending two of the three soldiers spiralling into the streets below. Dead.

But one was still on your tail, dodging the two falling bodies effortlessly. Using your momentum, you crashed through the wooden window, rolling as you landed before continuing to flee.

Shit, this really wasn’t good. But one question still circled your mind. How the fuck did they know you were there? How could you possibly have been compromised? The job was airtight. Nobody outside your trusted group knew the positions you would be in and when.

The thought had thrown off your rhythm. Not concentrating on where your feet were falling, you’d missed the staircase right in front of you, only noticing when your foot met air instead of solid ground. Throwing your hands up to somewhat protect you, you were thankful for the corner as you slammed into the wall, your front jolting in protest. Shaking your head in an attempt to free yourself from the disorientation, you swiftly stood and wasted no time skipping the rest of the stairs, shouting a quick “Sorry!” to the couple who yelped in surprise as you vaulted over their kitchen table and burst through their door, back out into the streets. You had a few seconds reprieve before the hissing of gas met your ears, and once again took off running.

The street was irritatingly busy, you having to pick your way through the crowds whilst the zipping and hissing of ODM gear threatened to swoop down from above.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” You muttered, now shoving people aside. This was not ideal. Though the crowded street gave you some cover, it had slowed your momentum significantly.

Scanning around as you sprinted, you saw the perfect opportunity to broaden the gap between you and your pursuer. It was risky as shit, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

With a burst of speed fuelled purely by adrenaline, you raced towards the broken wagon. It acted almost as a ramp up to a swinging tavern sign. ‘The Broken Casket’. You’d never been and honestly had no interest in going, but you silently thanked whoever decided to place the sign at the perfect angle for you to use as a stepping stone. The wagon creaked as you sped up the planks of wood with cat-like agility. Using your arms for momentum, your foot connected with the swinging sign as you leapt across the street. However, in your planning, you’d failed to notice the sound of ODM gear had ceased behind you. It only occurred to you after another body slammed into yours mid jump, a low grunt interrupting your thought process as the two of you crashed into the dirt.

Surprised shouts and exclamations of the crowd brought you back to your senses as you expertly kicked the soldier from your body, rolling to avoid any sort of attack coming your way. This was bad. This was really bad. Drawing two more blades from your leather suit, you flipped them in your hands, ready to face off against your attacker, who had already begun his onslaught with his own steel.

The singing of metal rang in your ears, sparks flying with every collision.

Raising your arm beside your head, you blocked a heavy kick to your face, hissing ever so slightly at the contact. Shit, this guy was good. Ducking beneath a swipe, you took advantage of the fact you were wearing a masked helmet, bringing your head up viciously. You watched as he dodged backwards, his footwork borderline perfect before sweeping for your leg. Barely having enough time to register the attack, you leapt and twisted, bringing your own leg against the side of his head. He mimicked your block, your foot connecting with his forearm instead of his skull. You’d traded blows with hundreds of people before, each fight ending in just a few seconds. You knew you were good. Really good, in fact. But the man currently shrouded by a green cape was just as good. Dare you admit, maybe better than you.

No, you wouldn’t admit that, not when you had just landed a solid hit to his stomach with the hilt of your knife, not the end you’d wanted to land but at this point you were thankful for any successful blows. Rolling deftly to the right, you lunged once again whilst you thought he was still reeling from the impact.

He wasn’t.

He had lulled you into a false sense of security and let you believe the blow had impacted him more than it actually had. A knee cracked against your jaw, throwing you to the side. Sliding against the ground, you slammed into a wall, slumping as you recovered. Your hand came up to cradle the side of your face, wincing as you gently took hold of your chin, before jerking your jaw back into place. You couldn’t deny it. That hurt. A lot.

“You done?” raising your head from the dirt, you glare into the void beneath the hood, a voice you’d sworn you’d heard before, but you pushed down the confusion of familiarity. Slowly placing your blades back into their scabbards, you raised your hands as you stood, taking a step forward away from the wall behind you.

“Shit… Yeah. I’m done.” You admitted lowly, now standing before him, arms still raised in submission. That was until he came closer. You tried not to give away your plan as he cautiously walked towards you, keeping your eyes trained on the ground until you could see the tips of his boots in your vision. You couldn’t help the feral grin that sliced across your face.

Before he had time to question it, your foot connected with the underside of his chin.

It was a move Prongs had taught you a very long time ago. If ever you were in trouble, this was your best bet of escape.

The world turned upside down as you flipped backwards, watching in satisfaction as the man staggered backward. Now it was his turn to cradle his jaw.

“Never let your guard down, Scout.” You spat, before bolting away. That was close. Too close. You just hoped the rest of your Shadows had made it back.

꧁⎈꧂

What. The FUCK. Just happened? He had never seen someone with those kinds of skills before. It would have been impressive if it wasn’t a life or death situation. Levi stood there in the middle of the street, slouched ever so slightly, eyes wide with shock.

What the fuck just happened?

His hand still cradled his chin painfully. How the fuck was he just bested? He wasn’t even thinking clearly throughout that entire chase. All that was running through his head was how the fuck this guy was able to pull of moves like that. He’d seen some daring examples of parkour in his time but leaping over an entire street? Swinging from overhead bridges? The leader of The Nest was on a whole other level. He thought back to their entire ordeal. He must have been taught by someone. There was no way he couldn’t have been.

For some reason, that voice played in his head on repeat. A teasing carousel. He wouldn’t dare assume, but it sparked something in his mind. Something he wouldn’t dwell on now, but if they managed to catch this Raven, then maybe he could figure out just where the hell he’d heard that voice. Sure it was a little muffled and distorted by the mask, but it still bothered him.

Straightening himself, he pulled the hood of his cloak lower against his face. He told Erwin this was ridiculous. He told him this was a fruitless expedition. He was getting a little sick of people not listening to him for various reasons. He suspected it was because of his background.

Levi had done half of the job he was tasked with. Keeping the leader away from the rest of the group for as long as he could. Whilst he wasn’t able to detain him, this should be enough to please the Commander. As if remembering where he was, his skin began to crawl. The filth all around him almost felt suffocating.

“Shit…” he muttered, running his hand through his dark locks, sweat making them stick to his forehead. Looking back to where he’d watched the criminal race away, he pulled the triggers on his ODM gear, the gears shooting into the brick and wood of the upper streets before engaging his gas to meet up with Erwin and Hange. If everything went to plan, they would have the leader of The Nest already detained by the time he got there.

Levi couldn’t deny this operation had been a shitshow. They had severely underestimated the skill of these Shadows. Comrades falling left and right in their pursuit.

It was strange, being back. Dragging up memories he’d tried so hard to bury. His past suddenly creeping back up behind him. Gritting his teeth, he decided to concentrate on where he was going rather on the tendrils of discomfort seeping into his mind. He would face those demons later, when he wasn’t surrounded by death and filth.

Now he thought about it, facing the underground city and facing titans were similar in many ways. Both were terrifying thoughts to most. Both seemed to be caked in dirt and grime. And both seemed to result in the inevitable high death toll. It was frustrating to no end, but it wasn’t a surprise. Everything seemed to result in death. The only constant in this cruel world. It followed him like a curse.

His thoughts twisted back to you. Wondering if you were down here, somewhere. You were always so mysterious. Even when the two of you were together you’d disappear for days on end, only leaving a cryptic message behind. You’d never told him where you went, and he’d never pried. The wind in his ears took the form of your bubbling laughter, images of you clutching your abdomen after he’d told some sorry excuse of a joke.

Shit, he needed to get out of here. The longer he stayed, the further his thoughts strayed back to you.

꧁⎈꧂

You had never run so fast in your life. Wanting to meet up with your Shadows as soon as possible, hoping they would all be there safe. It was a fool’s hope, you knew that, but it was the only hope you had left, unable to shake the unease. Had you all been compromised, or just you and your Shadows? Was the location of The Nest safe? Was Scarlett safe?

You had come to the conclusion you must have been betrayed. There was no other explanation. It seemed impossible, one of your trusted betraying you all to the MPs, but how else would they have known you would have been at the warehouse? How else would they have known to call in the Scouts? They knew MPs alone couldn’t take on you and your Shadows, so they asked for help from a more skilled regiment. That was the only conclusion you could come to as you arrived at the rendezvous point.

Only to be greeted by an eerie silence. Not a soul to be seen.

This was wrong. Everything about this felt wrong. They should be here by now. Unless…

Unless they were at the backup site...

“NOW!”

A woman’s voice had your head jerking up to see you were surrounded. You watched the Scout pull some sort of trigger and as you did, time itself seemed to slow down. A faint click to your left alerted you to whatever trap they may have set. Leaping into a forward roll, you felt a rush of air behind your head as you dodged. Your heart pumping faster than ever as you look behind you, seeing the weighted net that had missed you by less than an inch.

Returning your gaze to the rooftops, you watched as several soldiers zipped onto the ground around you. The hidden square you’d chosen as your first meetup point now riddled with green capes, rifles and blades pointed in your direction.

You were trapped.

“What the fuck do you want?” your voice sounded a lot more confident than you felt. Coming out as a threatening demand rather than a timid question. (E/C) eyes widened behind your mask as a tall, blonde haired man pulled down the hood of his dark green cape. You knew that face, you’d seen it in the papers. The Commander of the Scouts had come to pay you a visit.

How thoughtful.

“The question still stands, Erwin Smith. What the fuck do you want?” you stood a little taller, though he still towered over you. Subtly, your hand went to one of your blades on your belt. If he got close enough, you could sink it into his throat. Throwing the Scouts around you into disarray was probably the only way to escape this, though those chances seemed incredibly slim.

Erwin raised a thick eyebrow to you.

“I’m surprised you’re familiar with my name, considering your… living conditions,” though he seemed to choose his words carefully, they still fanned the flames of hatred in your gut. His perceptive eyes glanced towards your hand nearing a wicked dagger on your belt. “I’d strongly advise you against that,” he warned, his voice low as he nodded his head to something behind you. Swiftly, you turned, and immediately regretted everything. Horror and guilt pierced your heart as you beheld Una as she was dragged forwards, a blade positioned near her throat. “Her life is in your hands, Raven. Co-operate, and we’ll let her go. Fail to do so…” the blade pressed into her throat a little, a small trickle of crimson staining the pale flesh of her neck.

“R-Raven, I'm so sorry,” she rasped, finding difficulty in speaking with the steel against her jugular.

“Shh, shh Una, don’t speak. You’re okay, yeah? You’re fine, you’re going to get out of this, okay? You’ll be alright,” you tried to reassure her as much as you could, but you knew she was scared. You could tell by the way her hands shook by her sides, her eyes squeezed shut. Fuck, this had not gone to plan.

Turning back to Erwin, your voice lowered to a snarl.

“Alright. What do you want? I won’t ask again,” the arrival of another soldier briefly held your attention, faintly acknowledging him as the one you fought earlier. Your jaw tensed as he landed next to the Commander, his face still shrouded in shadow by his hood. You felt a sick satisfaction in knowing that the inevitable bruise blossoming under his chin was from your fight earlier. But he didn’t seem bothered by it.

Annoyingly.

“I’m sure you’ve guessed what we want by now, but I’ll tell you anyway. We want to take you with us, back to the surface, where you will atone for your crimes. In return, we will release this girl and allow the rest of your gang to go free,” it was an incredibly good deal for you, the only issue being…

You die.

The image of your wife danced behind your eyes as you closed them. She was right. You’d been captured.

But a strange calm settled over you. Maybe you could see him again. You’d finally be reunited and free of this world’s filth.

“Alright,” there was almost no hesitation to your answer. Something that caused Una to cry out.

“NO! Raven you can’t! They’ll kill you! Get the hell out of here, I'm not this important!” she attempted to bargain with you, only resulting in that blade pressed closer to her throat.

“DON’T!” you shouted, your voice now breaking ever so slightly. “Please… let her go.” slowly, your hands came up to your masked helmet. Removing it, you allowed the reveal to settle over the soldiers around you.

The leader of The Nest was a woman.

The shock was always something you revelled in. Of course, under normal circumstances, a venomous smile would crawl across your face.

But not this time.

Levi had completely frozen. Eyes wide, mouth parted in shock. His heart was a sick amalgamation of sheer joy and utter terror. Though your face had changed slightly with age, he’d recognise those eyes anywhere. They were harsher than before. Colder. No longer the eyes of a softer, young girl, but those of a savage, hardened killer. But it was you. You were here, in front of him. You were alive.

And he’d knee'd you in the face.

“RAVEN DON’T.” Una knew it was already too late. Your face had been revealed. There was no turning back now. Tossing your helmet to the side, you turned back to face the trio now in front of you. The woman who had pulled the trigger on whatever trap they’d set was now staring at you almost in awe. Erwin’s expression too seemed surprised, but it was the expression of the shorter man next to him that caught your attention. He seemed frozen solid, unmoving. You tried to catch a glimpse of his face beneath his hood, but that only provoked him to shadow it further.

“Let her go. Let them all go,” your voice had dropped significantly, though your eyes still held that steely determination. Staring up at Erwin, you watched as he nodded his head for Una to be released. Raising your hands to show you had nothing up your sleeves, you slowly walked over to her form sprawled out on the floor, head refusing to rise and look at you.

“Raven… I—“

“It’s alright, Una. It’s alright,” you cooed, gently lifting her chin to look at you, her hood still hanging low across her face, her features stayed hidden throughout everything. “This wasn’t your fault. None of this, was your fault, okay? We were betrayed, and I'm pretty sure that wasn’t you,” you chuckled gently, trying to lessen the tension.

Still, you could see the slivers of silver lining her eyes in the low light, tears of guilt welling up. “Hey, listen to me. You’re going to be okay. You’re all going to be okay. We prepared for this, didn’t we? We knew this might happen someday,” your voice was soft as you spoke to her, as if you were simply trying to comfort a child after a nightmare.

Helping her to her feet, you reached for your mask, lifting it from the floor and placing it in her hands. Her breath hitched in her throat as her eyes widened.

Una knew the significance of this.

“Give it to Prongs. Tell him I’m sorry it wasn’t quite the ceremony we would have wanted. Tell him to look after them for me. Look after her, for me,” taking a step back, you fisted your hands to stop yourself from tearing up, eyes trained on the ground. “I’m so sorry,” you whisper, before raising your head. “Now go. Get the fuck out of here.” your commanding tone returned, giving your last order as the leader of The Nest.

Levi’s heart clenched at the exchange unfolding before him. Though your appearance may have changed, you were still as soft as ever. He’d tilted his head down at your gaze, fearful of your reaction when you’d figure out who he was. How this would look. Him, in all his ‘Humanity’s Strongest Soldier’ glory, and you, the Underground’s most dangerous criminal. He wouldn’t be able to stand the flash of betrayal he knew he’d see in those familiar eyes.

Unable to stop your heart shattering as Una turned and ran, you took a breath. Raising your hands once again, you allowed soldiers to pull each arm out by your side as they began searching your body for weapons. You always made a habit of bringing a ridiculous amount of knives and blades with you on every job. And this was no different.

“That was honourable of you, Raven,” Erwin was the first to speak, though the title now made you scoff. You wouldn’t tell them your name, not yet anyway.

One of the soldiers patting you down was forced to gesture to a friend, her own hands now full of your various weaponry. And that was only your belt. You flicked your eyes to the three in front of you. The woman looked like she was going to burst any second.

“THAT WAS INCREDIBLE! Sorry, I couldn’t contain myself any longer. The way you dodged that trap was unlike anything I’ve ever seen! It was AMAZING! Who taught you to do that? The name’s Hange, by the way. Hange Zoë, science and titan enthusiast. I’d shake your hand but you seem to be a little tied up at the moment!”

The sudden explosion of excitement caught you off guard, your expression turning to one of sheer incredulous confusion, before realising you’d probably have to listen to her babbling throughout your entire journey back.

“I didn’t know you were going to torture me. Just kill me now,” you huffed sarcastically, expression darkening as soldiers roughly pulled your arms behind your back, clasping them in manacles after making sure all weapons were removed from your legs, your expression unchanging.

But that didn’t seem to deter the scientist. If anything, she found your attitude amusing.

“Wow! Levi, she’s just like you! Is everyone from the Underground so unapproachable?” she asked cheerily as the two soldiers holding your arms began to steer you away. But you refused to move. Levi too seemed stuck to the spot.

Everything went still, and it was as if nothing else existed but the two of you.

Ever so slowly, Levi pulled down his hood, revealing those dark bangs you remembered so clearly. Silvery blue eyes met (E/C) ones. It wasn’t quite the reunion either of you were expecting, but you were both here. Alive

“Levi…” you whispered after refinding your voice, torn between wanting to run to him and running away from him. Fear clung to your heart, knowing how much he would hate you for what you’d become.

Levi schooled his expression back to neutrality as Hange looked between the two of you.

“Do you two… know each other?!?!” Hange’s beam of excitement caused him to cringe internally. Looking you up and down, the raven haired man raised a thin eyebrow in what looked like disgust.

“Tch, no.”

Well, that wasn’t what you were expecting. You blinked in surprise, eyes narrowing to your previous lover, trying to mask your hurt. Maybe he didn’t remember you? But with the look of recognition in his stormy eyes, you swiftly ruled out that possibility. What you’d feared all these years had finally come to fruition. You’d found him again.

And he despised you.

Levi turned on his heel, stalking away from you as the two MPs tugged on your arm, finally prompting you to move. He didn’t think his heart could shatter much more. After losing his mother, his family, his home.

You.

He didn’t think he had the ability to break any further. But life clearly thrilled in proving him wrong.

꧁⎈꧂

The walk back to the surface was agonising. Both of you stealing glances at one another at every opportunity. His, masked with indifferent contempt, your’s overflowing with betrayal and rage.

How could he stand there and say the two of you didn’t know each other? As if you hadn’t been in a relationship for years. As if he didn’t know every little thing about you. As if you hadn’t shared his bed, moaning in ecstasy as he pried you thighs open, burying his tongue, his fingers or his length between your aching folds. As if you hadn’t heard every whimper and groan he could make, coercing them from his throat as you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock. As if you hadn’t been the one to finally hear those three words you never thought he could say. As if they weren’t directed at you.

Great, now you were angry and aroused.

Dragging your eyes away from him, you focussed on the long street ahead of you, now failing to notice the way his expression shifted slightly as he looked in your direction.

As you walked, more and more civilians stepped out of their homes to watch, many of them nodding their heads in respect, or removing their hats in mourning. You return their gestures, refusing to let your head bow as you dip your chin in recognition.

Levi could do nothing but observe the strange reactions from the swiftly gathering crowds. Some of them even shout to you.

“We owe you, Raven!”

“Give those fuckers hell!”

“Don’t let them take you lying down!”

You chuckled in response, both a sound and expression he’d missed so dearly. It made those long dead butterflies flutter once again in his stomach.

Even more so when a little kid approached you.

“Miss Raven… Why are there soldiers everywhere?”

Your eyes softened to the grubby little girl, crouching down where you stood, much to your escort’s dismay.

“They’re here to make sure little squirts like you listen to your mommy and daddy and go to bed on time,” the kid squealed in delight in your words. You lamented your hands not being free, the temptation to tickle the little tyke almost overwhelming, making your wrists squirm in their restraints.

“Hey, get the fuck out of here, stupid kid,” the soldier to your left delivered a harsh kick to the child’s side, sending her sprawling to the floor and out of your way. You don’t think anything could have brought you more rage. Not even your ex’s indifference to your existence.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” standing swiftly to your feet, you glowered dangerously into the MPs surprised eyes, now struggling in his grip as the kid started to cry. “She’s just a kid, you foul mouthed, pig eyed, vile piece of shit,” if it wasn’t for your circumstances and situation, Levi would have laughed at your insults. Clearly you’d broadened your vocabulary since the last time he’d seen you.

It was only when you’d managed to deliver a harsh, bone cracking kick to the soldier’s kneecap did Levi decide he should probably intervene, as much as he’d originally intended to stay away from you.

Something he subconsciously didn’t want to do.

“Oi, move along. I’ll deal with her, fucking degenerates,” his sharp voice cut through the commotion, causing the soldiers to stop in their tracks and whirl around.

“Captain Levi, sir! We were just—”

“I don’t care. Go.” he ordered. If they were Scouts, they wouldn’t have dared to hesitate, but since they weren’t a part of his regiment, it took them a moment for the order to register in their small minds, before they scurried away.

As soon as your arms were free of their grip, you immediately rushed to the little girl’s side, cooing gentle reassurance.

“Hey, come on now, you gotta be brave, yeah? You can’t cry every time a pig like that gets the better of you. Hell, then I’d never stop crying,” your little joke stopped the kid’s sobbing. Clearly your reputation extended even to the children of the Underground. “Where’re your parents, kid? Where’s your mom?” you asked, ignoring the obvious gaze burning a hole in the back of your head.

The little girl sniffled, pointing back to the head of a worried looking young woman, searching frantically for her little girl. A soft smile graced your lips, before you gently gestured for the girl to run along back to her mother, that smile growing as you watched her scamper off and giggle slightly as she was reprimanded in a giant bear hug.

“You haven’t changed, have you?” Levi’s cold voice brought you back to reality, prompting you to rise back up to your feet.

“Thought you didn’t know me,” there was none of that friendly familiarity he’d seen in your eyes earlier. There was only cold, ruthless ice. He shivered despite himself.

Softening his own gaze as you turned your head to him, he could recognise that spark of hatred. He’d seen it so many times when you faced down some sort of oaf who’d decided you were easy pickings back when the two of you were teenagers. He suddenly felt a pang of pity for all those who had suffered under this glare.

It was indeed terrifying.

“(Y/N)—”

“Don’t fucking call me that. You don’t get to call me that,” you didn’t try to tame the loathing fury in your tone. You didn’t pretend you didn’t revel in that confused look in his eye. Good, let him be confused. Though you didn’t know why. He should know well enough why you were furious.

“Okay…” —Levi took a breath— “Okay. Raven, then. That’s your alias, isn’t it. Raven?” He didn’t know why he was asking you such an obvious question, but he couldn’t help it. He had a craving just to hear your voice. The same voice that had haunted him for years, the same voice that had awoken him from the few hours he would be able to sleep.

Still, where his tone had lowered, yours refused to. How dare he show up after all these years and then claim he didn’t even know you.

“Obviously,” you spat, pure venom lacing your tone.

“So this is where you went. This is what you did. You were a part of The Nest this entire time and you didn’t think to tell me?” it was his turn to spit, clearly whatever had caused his gaze to soften previously had been replaced by something you couldn’t quite place. You weren’t as good at reading him as you used to be. His face had changed with time, and he’d clearly learned to school his expression much better than he used to.

“So what if it was? You don’t know me, remember?” you couldn’t help but use his words against him, wanting to drive home how much it had fucking hurt. Your eyes flickered to the now blackened bruise on the underside of his stupidly chiseled jaw. Something ugly twisted in your gut, whether it was satisfaction or guilt, you couldn’t decipher.

As if in retaliation, his own eyes glanced at the almost matching mark on your chin, the same mixture of emotions flashing briefly in his eyes before he took hold of your arm. It wasn’t as rough as you would have expected, but if anything, that simply annoyed you more.

“Tch, just move already,” the two of you had started to draw more attention to your conversation than either of you would have liked. So reluctantly, you placed on foot in front of the other and started walking again, returning back to acknowledging and recognising the respect those gathered were giving you. You remembered everyone you’d helped. Bringing them food, water, medical supplies.

“RAVEN!!” A loud shout of your alias had your head whirling to the right, searching for the owner of the voice. “RAVEN?!?” a small, older woman pushed her way through the people, almost falling to your feet. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she looked up at you.

You recognised her as one of your regulars. Her son had fallen ill months ago, and needed a medicine the MPs refused to hand out if not for a hefty sum of money. You’d offered your services to her after seeing her begging in the street, the sight hauntingly familiar to you. “I… I wanted to thank you. For everything you’ve done for me. For my son. He— I fear he wouldn’t be alive today without your help,” the woman hiccuped through her gratitude, drying her eyes with a worn, stained handkerchief. Your expression shifted to one of gentle indifference. You wouldn’t make the same mistake of outwardly showing your caring side like you did with the little girl.

“Make sure he stays rested,” was all you said, before continuing on without the prompting of Levi behind you, who now stood still in mild shock. Watching as many placed a hand on your shoulder as you walked, your head still held high.

“I don’t know what you men plan on doing with her, but she’s only ever helped us. She’s a good person,” the older woman’s eyes only spoke the truth as she looked to Levi, who only glanced back at you in response, watching as you climbed the stairs.

“I know. She always was.”

You stopped and turned back before you left for good, eyes lingering down the crowded street, a thousand faces peering up at you. Hats in hands, hands folded over one another in mourning. You recognized that with your leaving, a lot of people will go hungry. Many will die of diseases or viruses without the medicine you could steal and distribute. You knew Prongs was good, but he didn’t quite command that same kind of respect you did.

With a final nod of your head towards the crowd’s respect, you turned and left the Underground, leaving your past along with it.

#levi aot #levi attack on titan #captain levi #snk levi #levi x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi x you #levi ackerman x reader #aot x y/n #aot x reader #aot x you #snk fanfiction #snk #levi smut #levi ackerman smut

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ramp-it-up · 3 years

Text

Dammit, Rafa!

Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader

Word Count: 4.6 K

Warnings: Minors DNI, Very light BDSM, a lil bit of Dom! Rafa and a lot of Sub! Rafa, Rocky Horror Picture Show live Shadow Cast, Oral sex (m, f receiving), slight breeding kink if you blink. drug use (just say no), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it).

A/N: This is a combination of an ask from @theatrenerd86 and a lovely anon as seen below. I JUST really read your ask and I think I changed it a little bit. I was so excited for the concept. I hope this is okay. 🥴

Rafael Santiago Casal was stressed out.

You had just the thing.

As soon as you were able to get him out of the bedroom and on the couch after his jetlag, you presented him with the opportunity to make good on the bet he lost at the last friends-who-are family get together.

He’d talked enough shit that night about how many shots he could do and how many you could tolerate. You decided to shut him up with a friendly wager.

Just before he passed out at the kitchen bar, he’d grunted, “Holy shit, she’s gonna fuck me good.”

Rafa was not necessarily talking about sex, he was talking about how you would make him pay up.

And he was right. He’d have to pay.

Now, three months later, the time had come.

Rafael had worked hard shooting a film out of town for 6 weeks, serving as both actor and director, and he was still coming down from the stress and responsibility.

It had been three days since he’d been home and he was still wound up, even after sleeping almost 18 hours straight and you letting him use you at his will for sex.

The sacrifices you made for your man.

Rafa’s current situation: you holding up gold lamé boxers in front of his face.

“FUCK No!” He wasn’t having it.

“Unless you are paying me my SAG rate or above, I’m not wearing that shit.”

He crossed his arms, stubborn as hell. And making you wet as you stared at the veins popping out. They did something to you, but you were determined.

“You lost the bet, Cash. You gotta keep up your end.”

Rafael had The Rocky Horror Picture Show memorized, as many times you’d made him watch it on video, but surprisingly he’d never been to a Shadow Cast.

“You know, growing up in Berkeley, I thought you’d have been to a show before.”

He rolled his eyes at you.

“I wasn’t THAT kind of Berkeley kid. I was too busy being slinging dope. I didn’t have time to play dress up and see a movie.”

“Hmmmm. Such the attitude.”

Rafa rolled his eyes again. You nodded and took note. Then continued on your mission.

You turned around and picked up a tweed blazer.

“Okay. If you don’t want to go as Rocky, you can go as Brad and wear a t-shirt, this jacket, and your glasses.”

Rafa considered it for a minute,

“That’s what I’m talking about! That’s shit I wear on the regular. You trying to have me ass out here in these streets….”

He grumbled as he took the jacket and you made a face. Your plan was working perfectly. Rafa as Brad would be hot as fuck. But this attitude....

Rafa leaned back, his arms spread out on the back of the couch. Those damn grey sweatpants. He was doing all of this on purpose.

“What’re you wearing to the show ?” His eyebrow was cocked at you.

You could clearly see his dick print, and the way he pushed his crotch up at you made you think he knew that very well.

The fact that all of your holes were well used and slightly sore from his homecoming did not make you any less wet at this moment.

“Well… I have options too.”

You looked at each other and grinned. It was time for a fashion show.

First, you came out in a yellow belted shirtwaist dress and white cardigan completed with some black Mary Jane heels and paraded in front of him on the couch.

“Janet! ”

You called back, “Brad!” as he watched you closely.

It seemed as if your nipples were pointing at him through the cotton material of the dress and he saw the jiggle of his dreams as you turned around.

“You wearing any underwear under that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You looked coyly at him over your shoulder as you went back into the bedroom.

Next was a little french maid outfit. Magenta.

“Hot damn!”

Rafael’s eyes were round and his mouth was open.

“I-I like it. I like it a lot.”

He was palming his new erection through his pants.

Your outfit was skimpy and not at all functional if you were actually going to clean the house.

You approached him and started feather dusting his shoulders, then his head.

He ducked and tried to grab your hand to keep from messing up his hair and you twirled away, then came back and started dusting the boner in his lap.

He just sat there, looked up at you with those sea-blue eyes of his which then swept down your body. You brought the feather duster up to his neck and tickled him there.

Rafa grabbed the duster with his left hand and as you tugged back, he pulled harder, which landed you across his lap.

“Well, what do we have here?”

He rubbed your ass for a second before pulling back and giving you a stinging, and stimulating slap.

You weren’t about to get caught up, so you managed to wriggle away and stand in front of him.

Rafa was confident that he had you wet and dripping for him, which was true, and that he was in control, which was false.

He didn’t try to chase you, just put his hands on the back of the couch and pushed his crotch up at you again.

You had something for him.

You sat down beside him and reached into the pocket of the apron on your maid’s costume and held the items up for his inspection. He rolled his eyes.

“Look what I found when I was getting laundry out of your suitcase.”

Rafa shifted his confident posture on the couch. His eyes were wide, but he did not say a word as he glanced at what was in your hand and then away.

“What did you expect while I was 1200 hundred miles away?”

You put the intimate polaroids of you, and a couple of him inside you, on the coffee table.

“The agreement was that you (and I) would get off to each other, on facetime, or on the phone, or, a couple of times via text. Which we did, almost every night.”

You sat beside him and looked him in the eye.

“You weren’t supposed to do it without me.”

Rafa tried to lean over and kiss you, but you dodged his lips. Rafa sighed.

“But I didn’t do it without you, Love. Those are pictures of you, of us. I can’t get enough of you baby. I only used them a couple of times a week.”

You were getting heated. A plan formulated in your mind.

“12 times, Rafa? I can’t believe you.”

“Forgive me? You drive me crazy. I had to have you and those polaroids helped. A little.”

This time you allowed Rafa to kiss your neck, and you let him wrap his arm around you and draw you into his lap. You could feel his cock brush against you under his sweats.

He was sucking marks into the skin of your neck and cleavage, and when he hooked his fingers into the top of the costume and pulled it down, letting your breasts spill out, you allowed it.

He sucked your nipples into his mouth roughly and those eyes looked up at you as you squirmed on him, trying to get friction on his bulge.

Rafa’s hands were firmly around your waist, long fingers rubbing your mid section, seductively soothing you.

But he wasn’t getting away with it.

You watched him watch you as he sucked, tongued, and bit your nipples, until you decided to not fall for his antics.

You leaned over and kissed him, your tongue establishing dominance in his mouth while you pulled his hair, making his head lean back on the couch.

You leaned over and whispered in his ear before biting his lobe. He shivered.

“I’ve let you have your way since you’ve been back. But it’s time out for all that now. You’ve done it now.”

Rafa’s whimper as you scraped your teeth down his throat was everything.

“You’re not allowed to touch yourself, or fun, until the Shadow Cast. You’ve got to make up for this.”

The show was a week away.

Fuck that, Rafa thought.

Rafael dared to talk back.

“How would you know if I touched myself?”

You just raised your eyebrows and stared at him, watching his neck get red.

“You want to go another week after that without sex?”

You could tell that Rafa was debating which way to go. But you could sense what he wanted.

What he needed.

Most of the time, Rafael was in charge.

He’d taken careful steps to ensure that he would never have to go back to slinging dope on the corner. He liked having control.

Even when it came to business with Diggs, Rafa was always the more aggressive. It’s what got him this far to begin with. Not backing down. Being the director.

But nothing could compare to you, especially when you took control.

Rafa pulled you to him and you allowed it as he wrapped his arms around you.

He sighed into your neck as he kissed it.

“I won’t touch myself. I swear.”

“Good boy. In just seven days, I can make you a man.”

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

For the next week, Rafa took quick, lukewarm showers, stopping himself from touching himself for relief.

At night in bed, he stopped himself from palming his hard on at night when laying next to you. The fact that you still insisted on cuddling with him drove him mad, but not too mad to disobey.

You gave yourself cold showers, because in the mornings, when you’d come together in sleep, you wanted to jump on his rock hardness so bad, but you convinced yourself it would be worth it.

It was a hard week. Then Friday came and anticipation was in the air.

During the entire day, Rafael was impatient, yet restrained. As he got ready for the show that night, he listened to you rattle off the rules of interactive Rocky Horror from inside the closet.

“Okay, Here are the Rules:

1. Whenever Brad comes on screen, you MUST yell, ‘Asshole!’”

Rafa interrupted you. “Wait, I’m dressed up like an asshole?”

“Well, yeah. You’ve seen Rocky before. Brad’s an asshole, Rafa. A cute asshole, but an asshole none the less.” You continued with the rules.

“2. This is before slut shaming was considered a no-no, so, whenever Janet comes on the screen, you gotta yell Slut!”

Rafa shook his head as he put on his glasses, making sure he was nerdy fly while you informed him of the rest of the call-outs.

“And Rule #69:

You MUST do the Time Warp.”

“I don’t dance. When sober.”

You came out of the closet, corset tight, heels high, Afro big, makeup frightening, dressed as Dr. Frank N Furter.

Rafa only stopped and stared. “Goddamn.”

You spun around to give him a look see before you put on your leather jacket.

You showed him a flask full of Jameson’s.

“I think you’ll dance tonight.”

“But what about the horizontal mambo?”

Rafa was all hands as he tried to get you to move your hips. You batted them away.

“Be a good boy. It will go better for you later.”

Rafa nodded and stepped back, his hands in his pockets. He wanted to touch you so badly.

As you moved to leave, you handed him a heavy bag full of all the necessary supplies.

“What the hell is all this shit?”

You looked up, trying to remember:

“Let’s see: Bubbles, because you can’t bring rice, water guns, newspaper, noise makers, rubber gloves…”

Rafa’s eyes got big at that one.

…”Toilet paper, cards…” you rifled through the bag.

“Shit!”

You ran in the kitchen and grabbed some bread, shoving pieces in the toaster. You winked at him as you waited for it to pop up.

“Can’t forget the toast,” you grinned into amused cerulean eyes.

“I have clearly missed out on life during my formative years instead of hanging out with the nerds and Rocky.”

“You have, indeed.”

Rafa almost turned back as you headed to the car and said, “And you’re a virgin tonight, so act accordingly.”

He soon found out what that meant, when crowded in the theater with various wonderful Rocky Horror freaks and geeks, they called virgins up to the stage to be sacrificed.

Since you were whooping and pointing at him Rafa couldn’t hide, so he went up to meet his doom.

You snacked on your popcorn as the emcee “humiliated” Rafa by making him sing “Sweet Transvestite” because he’d played it safe by dressing as Brad.

It turned out not to be so humiliating, because Rafa’s voice is dope and he knew the words; he really got into it.

You could tell that Rafa was having a ball when he came back to his seat.

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

You and he called out, hid under your newspapers in the rain, slut shamed Janet and most importantly, did the time warp on stage in front of the screen.

It was a real scene.

You drank the rest of your whiskey and Rafa lit a blunt on the way home.

You put your feet out of the window so that Rafa could have a good view of your legs.

He caressed his hand up and down them, the fishnet texture feeling good under his palms.

“What do you think about Frank and Brad.” The weed was making you philosophical.

Rafa side eyed you as he drove.

“What? You mean me and you?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

He chuckled, looking damn sexy driving with one arm.

“I think the whole film is avant-garde. Especially for 1975, it’s about queerness, conformity, and dictatorship. And of course free will.”

Rafa looked over and winked.

You took another toke and nodded.

“I love that Brad was a bottom in that shadow scene with Frank. So fucking hot.”

You traced your fingers across your cleavage. Rafa had to concentrate to keep his eyes on the road.

“Of course, I’m also thinking about how Rocky was bound up when we first see him.

A little BDSM, don’t you think?”

You watched Rafael’s profile as he drove.

“And Frank was the one who did it to him. He seemed to worship the darling doc. Until, you know.”

Rafa squirmed and cleared his throat.

“He sure did.”

You smirked as you French inhaled.

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

You get back home, tipsy and a little high, but still in command of what you wanted to do.

You went straight to the bedroom as Rafa got two bottles of water to bring with.

As soon as he entered the bedroom, you began.

“Strip,” you commanded.

“I beg your pardon?”

Rafa smirked at you as he put the bottles down on the dresser.

He was trying it.

“I’m in charge now,” you raised your chin. “Got it?”

His eyes changed and he nodded eagerly, smirk turning into a placating smile.

He was probably more eager than he wanted to show, which made you swell with pride.

“So.” You waved your hand at him. “Strip.”

You did the same, stepping out of the heels and rolling down your fishnet stockings.

Rafa took off his jacket, and reached up to take off the glasses.

“Leave those on.”

Smiling again, he left the glasses on as he carefully took off his shirt, then unbuttoned his pants as his hard on was getting bigger.

He stood before you in his boxer briefs as you unsnapped the corset and threw it across the room.

You just raised your eyebrows and crossed your arms, foot starting to tap, and he quickly moved to take his boxers off.

His cock was stiff against his stomach now, making your mouth water.

“Get on the bed, face up.”

Rafael did as he was told, and trembled as you ran your hand up his leg brushing his cock, up his abs, to his chest, face and hair.

He reached for you and you moved away.

“What we’re not gonna do, is any of that unauthorized touching. It’s no way to behave on your first day out. But since you are such an exceptional beauty, I’m prepared to forgive you.”

You went over to your bedside table and brought out the red nylon rope and watched as Rafa shuddered.

“Assume the position.”

He obediently put his hands up toward the headboard, and didn’t move as you swung your leg over his torso and secured him to a couple of the posts.

He kept his eyes down, staring at your crotch the entire time as you used the knots he taught you to make.

“Such a good boy for me. See, there’s no crime in giving yourself over to pleasure.”

“Yes Ma’am. No Ma’am.”

You became wet as Rafa smiled up at you. You rewarded him with a kiss and a small cuddle. Then you got down to business.

You scooted backwards down his body and stared at his erection.

“What should I do to you? Want me to suck your cock? Would you like that?”

"Yes ma’am please.” You loved to hear him beg.

“C-can you do it reverse cowgirl style? So that I can see your ass?”

Rafa looked desperate, but even though the thought of what he’d suggested made your pussy clench. You knew what he was trying to do.

“Are you trying to get me to sit on your face, Rafael?”

He nodded vigorously, hair flopping across his forehead.

“I want to give you pleasure ma’am. Want to breathe you, feel you drip on my lips and drink you. Want you to ride my face until you cum.”

He was using his soft voice, but it was oh so sexy. Fuck, he was using his words to make your clit swell and pulse.

And he knew it too. You saw the glint in his eyes.

“You’re trying to take control back, aren’t you, Rafael?”

He blinked, and his eyes blanked again. He gulped, and this time, he shook his head.

“No ma’am.” He insisted, “Only if you let me.”

You stared at him a while as you took his cock in your hands and started pumping, rubbing the palm of your hand across his fat mushroom tip.

You loved how he was struggling to keep his eyes open and the grunts that were coming from his throat.

“I guess you have been reasonably good so far. But you still have to follow orders.”

You shifted around and straddled his chest, reaching back to finally take his glasses off. All he could do was stare at you.

“I’m all yours, ma’am. Your ass is perfect. Served up for me like this.”

The yearning in his voice was unmistakable.

“Such a good, good boy”

Your thumb flicked over the tip of his dick.

“Promise I’ll always be a good boy.”

You used your hands on him again, your strokes fast and firm enough that he was nearly on the edge but not quite there. You felt powerful.

Slowly, you shuffled back, moving your ass toward his face. And your face towards his cock.

Kitten licks on his tip had him squirming on the bed, his hands now gripping the ropes which tied him fast to the headboard.

“Ma’am, please. Please….please.”

He begged and moaned against your cunt, moving his head and dramatically sweeping his tongue up your slit, making you drip and spasm.

“Rafael! Your mouth....So, so good...” You groaned.

Your praise only caused his cock to become harder. Seeing that, you pushed yourself down more firmly on his face.

Rafa moaned into your pussy causing you to almost tip over.

“So, so good Rafa.”

You raised yourself up, bracing on his thighs, yours tightening around his face. You were determined to finish the job.

“Tell me what you want and maybe I’ll give it to you.” Your voice was deceptively sweet.

He sucked at your clit for a little while longer before he pulled his face away long enough to respond. He watched your pussy quiver as he spoke.

”I want to cum. Please ma’am, I need to cum.”

“Hmmmmm. No.”

Your lips were a hairs’ breadth away from his tip. He groaned, and dove back into your pussy.

“And if you even think of cumming before I say so, you’ll be severely punished.”

You could feel him sucking your clit more intensely, trying to get you to a point where you’d slip up.

But instead, you deep throated him until you reached his base and rested there for a moment. All the practice of taking his entire length was paying off in this moment.

You slowly started to bob on his dick and his attention to your core faltered as his head fell back to the bed.

“Shit…That feels so good. So fuckin’ good… Ma’am.”

Although you loved to hear his voice broken in ecstasy, the hand that was caressing his balls as you sucked him off tugged gently to remind him of his job.

Immediately his lips wrapped around your clit again.

When you felt his balls tighten, you pulled your mouth off of him, moving to kneel next to him on the bed.

“Huh...oh! Ma’am, please!”

“I thought you were mine to do with as I please?”

Your hands danced down your body, briefly cupping your tits and rolling your nipples.

Your lover looked as if he would die from want of touching you.

‘I am. I am. I just…’

“I just want to know, where do you want to cum? Cum in my mouth or in my wet pussy?”

You sat back on your knees and parted your thighs, so he can get another look at you.

“Definitely your pussy.”

You leaned over and smiled at him.

“We’ll see.”

You swung your leg over him and positioned yourself above the head of his stiff cock.

You swiped him up and down the length of your slit, and then slowly sunk down, taking it millimeters at a time.

Rafael groaned, knowing that he wanted to push himself up into you, and you felt him bend his knees to plant his feet to do just that.

“Dont. Move.”

Your voice was firm as you raked your fingernails down his torso, making sure to scrape his nipples as you went.

Rafa opened his eyes to see, and his mouth to gasp, and you rewarded him by sinking all the way down on him.

“Fuck ma’am. You feel so good, so tight, so fuckin’ wet.” You scraped his nipples again.

You smiled at his agony, keeping your eyes on him as he watched your body move.

You went faster, rocking your hips which caused your breasts to jiggle as you slid up and down his pole.

He groaned again, but nodded, eyes squeezing closed to shut out some stimulation.

But that was a no go.

“Open your eyes, Cash. Be good.”

Rafael just simply couldn’t think.

“But you feel so amazing...Ma’am. And you look too… fucking goooooddd. Shit.”

He could barely get it out, which only served to make you wetter. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he dropped it to the bed as you rose up on his length and then drove yourself back down on him.

“Open your eyes!”

He did, his eyes a dark blue now, and trained on you as you repeatedly slammed down on him, fucking him mercilessly.

"So fucking perfect. I wish I could just touch you…” He said breathlessly between grunts.

“It’s not your wish. It’s my command.”

You tried to look menacing and Rafael’s face convinced you that it worked. His eyes widened and he closed his mouth as your hips moved relentlessly.

He knew what you needed as well. His words.

“Thank you Ma’am. For letting me inside your tight, wet… ohhhh… I love you so fucking much.”

He was so sweet when he was needy.

“Love you, love this pussy…”

“Ohhh, Rafa. I love you too. It’s yours anytime you want. If you’re a good boy…”

“I am. I will be. I promise.” He looked into your eyes and you knew it was true.

“Is this dick mine? No one else’s? “

Rafael’s moaned deeply, licking his lips to taste you again.

“All… yours….It’s your’s,” he breathed.

“Good boy Fuck, Rafa!…”

Your Bay Boy was a mess, moaning and bucking his hips up inside you. You let him, knowing how desperate and needy he was. He was so beautiful.

You rocked your hips back and forth, bringing yourself oh so close to the edge.

Rafa’s hips pistoned up into you ferociously hitting the spot that made you moan loudly.

“Fuck, your cock feels so good,” you leaned down to whisper. “You wanna come? You wanna come inside me?”

You felt him shudder, you mustered all the strength you had to stop moving.

He pulled at the restraints, wanting to grab you and hold you fast, but he couldn't.

“So close, Ma’am. More...please. I need to cum.”

You shushed him, putting your finger on his pink lips and smiling down at him.

“I know, baby.”

And you started moving again. With purpose.

“Eyes on me.”

Rafa didn’t know where to focus, your face, your breasts, where you two were connected, the look on your face, the sensations.

There was no coherent thought in his head except what you were doing to him.

You felt him pulse within you and decided it was time as your clit shuddered with your impending orgasm.

“Cum for me Baby, cum inside me. Paint my walls.”

Rafa’s head snapped up and he growled.

“What did you say???”

“I said, come inside me. Fill me full of your cum. I want it all.”

“Holy fuck!”

Rafa’s eyes screwed closed and he pumped everything into you like you asked.

The feel of him swelling and releasing inside you triggered your own orgasm, but you still had a job to do.

You untied him while he was still spasming within you. You held him close as he came back to earth, lightly rubbing and kissing his marked wrists.

You kissed him and murmured, “Are you ok? As he smiled at you and kissed you back.

You handed him a bottle of water as he readjusted.

Rafa took a drink, turned to you and murmured, “You’re amazing you know that? Just what I needed.” And he kissed you again, hand in your hair, massaging your scalp.

Happiness bloomed in your chest.

You lay in his arms and snuggled his neck while he moved his hands down your body. Then he pulled your hair to make you look at him.

“What do you need?”

Rafa’s eyes searched your face, because he always made sure he took care of you, no matter who had been dominant.

“Nothing. Just need you.”

“You got me, love.”

He smiled and kissed your forehead, and then moved to get out of bed.

“No. I have a better idea.” You smiled up at him mischievously.

“First one in the shower calls the shots.”

You got up from the bed, ready to sprint to the bathroom, only to be overtaken by Rafael, who picked you up and backed into the shower, so that he was the first one to enter.

You cast your eyes down as he turned on the water, waiting for his command.

***********

Tagging: @theatrenerd86 @sebastianabucknettastan @imatyoursurrvicesurr @riiyy @ivycomet @lonelydance @jbrizzywrites @sillyteecup @ohsoverykeri @theselilwonders @mysearchforgratification @curtainremote @biafbunny @summerofsnowflakes @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @delaber @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @einfachniemand @braidedchallah

#Rafael Casal #Rafa smut #rafael casal imagine #rafael casal x reader #rafael casal x black reader #rafael casal smut #rocky horror picture show #rocky horror #ask dj #sub!rafa

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servingy-nneeds · 3 years

Text

PLEASE DON’T NOTICE ME

WHAT KIND OF YANDERE ARE THEY?: KEIGO TAKAMI (HAWKS) PART 2

TRIGGER WARNING: MANIPULATIVE, Mentions of assault

COMBINATION: MONOPOLY and REMOVAL TYPE

Monopoly type of Yandere tries to monopolize their lover in any way or form. Trying to get you to distrust people, in worse case scenarios wouldn’t let you socialize with other people. Their reasoning that ‘they may harm you’ and that you are far too naive for it to notice. Is extremely inquisitive on who you hang out with and where you are at a particular time.

Removal type of Yandere go through great lengths in order to remove people whom they deemed isn’t worth your attention, everyone. This includes any forms of social interactions digital or physical. After all you have them in your life what more can you ask for.

You always considered yourself as a kind person, willing to always a lend a hand to others. But you never said you were oblivious.

You always took note his sudden shift in behavior whenever the situation involves you. The first time it happened was back when he saved you again for the second time when a drunk forced himself on you. Back when you first met you always thought he viewed you as an annoying person, the twitching polite smile he presented you gave himself away. And then the next thing you knew after politely caring for his non vital wound, he started sticking himself closer to you.

Initially he just wanted to get invited inside your home. After that he started walking you back home, he said “I just happened to be around this area”. And when he randomly showed up in your job one day claiming that your company sponsored one of his commercial, you knew something was up.

“Hey want to have a lunch together? I found this awesome place where they sell these mean ass bbq’d chicken ” an unknown number showed up on your phone one day. Ignoring the message you continued catching up on your report. That is until another message showed up “Sorry, this is Hawks got your number from one of your buddies, told em I know you and stuff, that good with you?”.

You would had simply ignored on how he got your number if not for the fact that you were new at your office, never had this so called “buddy” and worse you never told anyone your personal contact number you always used your company phone for communication.

The weeks after that he started invading your breaks pulling you away before your co-workers had a chance to invite you for lunch breaks. The result? they tend to shy away from you, finding it awkward being close to you when you obviously have a personal relationship with the no.2 pro Hero.

When you tried distancing yourself from him, finding a piss poor excuse on how you cannot accompany him for lunch or dinner, and even refusing to be accompanied on your way home, you openly voiced out your distaste at the idea of being flown back to your apartment. Not wanting your safety be fully in his hands.

“Hey y/n, darling I noticed you’re pretty distant this past days” he spoke to you when he caught you chilling at the company’s roof top one day, well you never thought he would be pretty upfront with your behavior.

“Yeah sorry ‘bout that, someone in my office said that I might be distracting you from hero work and all” you said lying, avoiding eye contact, you knew you were really scraping the bottom for excuse this time. Believing you easily, he never liked your co worker sticking close to you and now they instilled this idea on you now? Well he couldn’t have that. Deciding to prod again at your weakness, mainly that you were oozing with sympathy and easily guilt tripped.

“Well I am a pretty over bearing guy” he said softly looking down on his feet “I grew up pretty much alone in the commission and never really had someone to hang out with, so I just tend to be clingy, really wanted to try out this normalcy once in a while y’know? Sorry ‘bout all this” he said cracking his voice up a bit to further emphasize that he is showing his vulnerable side to cater to your empathetic side.

He really hope it works, otherwise he’d have to go plan B. Kidnapping you isn’t as much fun compared to the idea of you willingly submitting yourself to him.

“Maybe we can hang out at weekends” you said eyes full of sympathy.

Bingo.Next stop those nosy colleagues of yours.

“Hey y/n thank goodness are you ok?” one of your colleagues called out to you one day. Shocked by the sudden unusual approach from a total stranger you asked what the commotion is all about. “You know that guy that was interning for you? Well turns out he has numerous cases of assault, you can never trust anyone this days” she huffed before storming off.

The next was the same girl who approached you willingly trying to warn you. You found out a week later in a daily news that her body was found in the area where you usually commute and was burned to the point of unrecognizable. You voiced your concern to Hawks one day simply because there was no way he would be involved in any of these, after all he is a Hero and doesn’t quite have a quirk that allows him to burn others. He does know someone, but you don’t know that.

With a shaking hand you quickly dialing his phone number and meeting with him within a 10 minutes time frame. “I hate to be that kind of person, especially since I rejected your offer in the past but I really hope you can escort me back home, just this time I swear” you rambled as he hugged you tightly comforting you, giving you a shoulder to cry on for support. Shame you missed the way his eyes glint or the ever growing grin he sported

After courting you for couple of months, you noticed he wasn’t as clingy as before and was quite understanding when you set your boundaries. You thought he changed for you he didn’t. It wasn’t a surprise when you accepted his proposal when he asked you out of blue one day presenting you a ruffled bouquet of flowers and a feather of his own, he claims it was to keep you safe. It’s a tracking device

Going out with him wasn’t as bad as you thought. He plays this boyfriend role perfectly. He had brought you two a matching phone when you accidentally dropped it at a lake during your date when an elderly bumped into you.Though sometimes you voiced out your concern for him that you weren’t accepting important messages at times.

After that he brought you a plush of a duck that looked strangely liked him which you thought was downright adorable and cuddly. Though sometimes when you sleep you feel as if the plush’s beady eye is steadily staring right back at you, but you chalked it up as being paranoid just like these past days whenever you go out without Hawks.

Making you move in with him was next in his plan albeit he had some difficulty convincing you. He insisted it was for your safety. But really it was for his mental well being (1) his flat was considerably more secured, has a lot more advanced locks he’s got access to (2) He can now monitor you 24/7 even without that duck’s help (3) he’ll can finally record your voice whenever he wants, even without the bugged phone and best of all he’s got you all to himself, away from all those damn people that consumes your time.

So here you are now wearing one of his shirts, he pleas with puppy dog eyes that it looks adorable on you, spending another whole day in your shared living room, with nothing else to preoccupy your time. At this point you had no friends, only work buddies, your contact with your relatives even your parents and siblings were seldom to none, they insists it was you who cut them off saying you weren’t answering their calls or messages.

Hawks claimed that they were lying to you and that they didn’t wanted to come out as the bad guy for not talking to you.

Brushing your hands along his hair with a hum, while he lays his head on your lap, he insists it was relaxing therapeutic to him, while trying to watch some type of animated cartoon movie he insists was ‘safe for you to view’.

Moving around he grabbed your waist burying himself to your midsection then he said “You know hawks mate for life?” making you chuckle a bit thinking it was one of his bird jokes. “We’ll see about when you put a ring on this you simp” you said showing your ring finger.

He softly chuckled to himself thinking ‘Yeah you weren’t oblivious, you were dead blind’

Check out Part 1

#bnha x reader #imagines #hawks x reader #yandere hawks #reader insert #bnha imagines #servingy/nneeds

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eggtoasties · 3 years

Text

dazed bees to honey

Pairing: Shisui Uchiha/Sakura Haruno

Rating: T

Word Count: 6.3k

Better on AO3

Chapter 2

______________________________________

Getting Sakura’s attention had been…difficult at best. Trying to work around his erratic schedule was near impossible given Sakura’s equally hectic schedule and Shisui wasn’t sure how to approach the Hokage and demand that she rearrange his missions to better accommodate his dating schemes.

But, he had never met anyone more alluring—the sway of Sakura’s hips, the creaminess of her skin, the way her eyes lit up when he brought little trinkets he acquired from far away missions. She makes the blood rush to his cheeks when she makes fun of him and he had never known that getting his bones crushed would make him feel like he was the luckiest man on Earth.

She was the sun—bringing him light and warmth like he had never before experienced, and he was the moon orbiting around her. He needed to be closer; he wanted to be consumed by her. She could crack his chest open in two and carve her name in the ribs protecting his heart and it still wouldn’t be close enough.

He just didn’t know how to tell her.

___

Shisui had been idly sharpening kunai at his dining room table waiting for his bread to proof, when he received a summons. Tapping at the balcony door, a small crow was impatiently waiting for Shisui to retrieve the message tied at its foot. Wondering why Itachi sent a crow instead of making the short trip to his apartment, Shisui set his weapon down and ambled towards the sliding glass door, making sure to grab seeds for the summons.

Letting out a squawk, the crow started pecking at his door faster. Alarmed that Itachi was possibly in danger, Shisui shunshined to the balcony and grabbed the crow to get to the message. Puffing its feathers and pecking at Shisui’s hands, the summons squawked indignantly and Shisui offhandedly wondered when Itachi had kept such poorly behaved crows.

Gently releasing it into the air and unfurling the message, Shisui read:

Came back from the mission a few days ago. At training ground 7 if you’d like to join. -S. Haruno

His heart pounded. Sakura was back in the village and she contacted him promptly afterwards to ask to spar? Dough be damned he was sprinting to training ground 7, he thought giddily. He looked down at himself—green fuzzy socks, loose gray sweats, and an old t-shirt—he had to get ready! His cheeks warmed. Wait, he mentally stammered. How did she know where he lived? How did she know where to send the summons to? Did she snoop around his medical files to find his address because for some reason, that made his throat dry.

Running to his bedroom while haphazardly throwing his clothes off, he suddenly stilled again. She had sent him a crow? She had a crow summons? There were a few crow summoners in the village, Shisui reasoned. She could have gotten a contract from Aoba or someone else. But, the thought of Itachi presenting the summoning contract that he had bestowed as a sign of trust and friendship made Shisui frown. As the elder, and the first contract holder, he should have been the one to give her the contract to sign. Or, Itachi should have gone to him and inform Shisui of his intentions.

Nodding to himself, Shisui made a note to stop by Itachi’s house later and question him.

___

Arriving at the edge of training ground 7 in record time, Shisui paused as he saw Sakura and Itachi in their uniforms warming up together. Sakura was in standard uniform sans the flak jacket and Itachi was in his ANBU uniform as always. Shisui fidgeted uncomfortably. He had worn what Itachi rudely called “the douchebag” shirt—a loose black sleeveless top where the arm holes were cut down to the bottom of his ribs. The tank top, Itachi always lectured, could hardly be defined as a shirt since it was so open. Itachi had questioned the practicality of a training top that would leave one so vulnerable to weapons and Shisui at the time, had retorted that he would understand when he was older.

Beginning to wonder if he should discreetly go back home to change, Sakura and Itachi called Shisui over.

“Oh, you came!” Sakura shouted excitedly as she beckoned him towards the middle of the training field.

As he walked slowly towards the pair, Itachi assessed Shisui.

“I see you got my summons,” he said, raising his eyebrow when he took in Shisui’s clothes. “Nice pants.”

Shisui flushed. He had chosen his tightest black training pants. Pants that he knew made his ass look good, thank you very much, but at the moment he was wondering if Sakura would think he was trying too hard. Or worse, he mentally shuddered, a douchebag.

“I was excited when Itachi told me you were in the village. I wanted to work on my response times with you,” Sakura started, interrupting Shisui’s mental torture. His heart fluttered at the thought of her wanting to spar with him and he let out a little breath of relief realizing that the crow was indeed Itachi’s. He crossed his arms in a poor attempt to cover the long slits in his shirt.

“I can dodge pretty much anything,” Sakura continued, beginning to sway on the balls of her feet, pink pony tail swinging with the motion. “But I wanna see how I’ll do against an opponent I can’t hit—or at least that’s what Itachi says,” she said, smiling at him prettily.

The early morning sun illuminated her face and made her green eyes impossibly bright. The faint ring of gold around her pupils winked at him and he swore he could feel his pulse reverberate in his skull. He realized she was waiting for a response. He licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry, and all he could muster out was a weak, “Sounds good.”

Sakura nodded happily and walked a few paces away from him, wringing out her arms. Suddenly pulling out kunai from her holster and twirling them around her forefingers, she faced him.

“Taijutsu only. Ready whenever you are, Shisui-san.”

___

She was fast, Shisui noted. He had expected as much given the way she took him by surprise in her office, cutting his shunshin off. He also factored in the fact that she regularly trained with Itachi, Sasuke, and Kakashi who were notoriously quick on their feet. But, not as fast as him.

Flickering in and out of her reach, he studied her movements with his sharingan. He knew that Itachi was on the sidelines, similarly monitoring her, but Shisui wanted to brand the image of her looking at him like he was prey for the rest of his life. Sakura was an incredibly flexible fighter, he noted. Depending on the type of attack, weapon, and opening he left, she would quickly and seamlessly recalibrate.

There were times her movements reflected Tsunade-sama’s—sharp and fast and meant to obliterate. Other times, Shisui realized, she would adopt Might Guy’s Strong Fist technique, Asuma’s melee style, or most surprisingly, the graceful but precise movements of the Gentle Fist technique.

Bracing a chakra enforced forearm against a kick to his head he asked, “Who taught you the Gentle Fist?”

Grunting and trying to strike his open stomach she responded, “My graduating class has two Hyuugas.” He side stepped away from her punch and flickered behind her. Ducking when she swung a kunai to his head and dodging the knee about to pummel his face, he shunshined a little farther away.

“Hyuuga don’t hide their techniques because no one can use it without the Byakugan, but someone would have had to teach you those movements,” he said breathing heavily.

“Kakashi copies them to piss people off and I was—am close to them,” Sakura said catching her breath. He watched as she pressed the back of her hand to her sweaty forehead and picked the hem of her shirt up to wipe at the rest of her face. Her toned stomach glistened with sweat. Little rivulets of perspiration rolled down her abs and Shisui cursed, damn.

“Was it the little Hyuuga genius? Neji-kun?” Shisui asked, remembering Sasuke’s clear distaste for the boy.

Itachi chose then to materialize in Shisui’s line of vision, cutting his view of Sakura. Pouting, Shisui flash stepped in front of Sakura, startling her while Itachi began his commentary on what and how Sakura could improve as well as ideas for them to try out.

The rest of their morning session consisted of Itachi valiantly trying to train while Shisui cast low level genjutsus of himself telling Itachi to leave. Itachi dispelled the genjutsus, but Shisui relentlessly recast them, sometimes conjuring up little dancing animals or mini Sasukes berating him to leave. Tiring of Shisui’s antics, Itachi dejectedly sat on the ground and began his stretches, saying that they should call it a day.

“Are you alright? You seemed distracted today—I definitely hit you more than usual,” Sakura said kneeling in front of him, raising a glowing green hand to his chest.

“Thank you—I’m fine,” Itachi responded tiredly. “It’s just that Shisui,” he said harshly, glaring at him over Sakura’s shoulder, kept telling me to leave.”

Alarm bells started ringing in Shisui’s head and he looked incredulously at his cousin. His cousin who sold him out. His decidedly, least favorite cousin. He glared back at Itachi. Shisui flashed his dimples which made Itachi narrow his eyes further.

“Sorry, cousin,” Shisui started. “I’m just absolutely starving and wanted to eat—you know how I am when I want something,” he said, throwing his arms behind his head and wiggling his eyebrows at his cousin.

“Annoying? Irritating? Childish?” Itachi grumbled, causing Sakura to giggle. “Sakura,” Itachi started. “Would you want to go to that new bakery in the North District? I’ve only heard incredible things about their rhubarb ice cream,” Itachi said excitedly, ignoring the way Shisui was pouting and lightly kicking at the ground.

Sakura finished healing Itachi and slowly rose, dusting the dirt from her knees and wiping her hands against her thighs. “Ooh, that sounds really nice, but I should probably get real food before I start on desserts,” Sakura laughed.

Not to be outdone, Shisui stepped beside Sakura. “I agree, let’s get lunch Sakura-sensei,” he chirped while resting his hand against Itachi’s head, who was still sitting down. Scowling, Itachi yanked on Shisui’s arm, making his older cousin stumble, and jabbed the back of his knee. Pleased that Shisui was now sprawled in the dirt, Itachi rose and said, “Well, I’m also going to get sesame cookies,” he sniffed. “Good luck with this,” Itachi said to Sakura, poking an incensed Shisui with his sandal. “And thank you for the coconut oil.”

With that, Itachi gracefully straightened himself out and walked towards the edge of the clearing, waving back at Sakura.

___

Shisui and Sakura made their way towards the main hub of Konoha. Excited to be alone with her, Shisui asked her questions about her last mission and her work at the hospital. He listened intently as she recalled the mission details, chuckling when she complained about the humidity in Waterfall, telling her he completely understood while pointing to his curly hair. She talked animatedly about her research project at the hospital. Although he didn’t understand about seventy five percent of what she was explaining, he nodded dutifully, lips quirking as he watched her excited hand movements as she discussed…molecular interventions through pathogenic mechanisms of neurocristopathies—he thinks.

Humming at the right times and throwing in a “oh, really—what does that mean?” every so often, he basked in her voice. Her voice, Shisui decided, was his favorite sound in the entire universe. Wanting to sit down together, he interrupted her briefly to point at the first restaurant he saw.

“How’s ramen sound, Sakura-sensei?” he asked.

“And that’s why normal and pathological neural crest cells—” Sakura, paused. “Oh, Ichiraku’s is fine. Did you know this is Team 7’s spot?” she asked, heading towards the shop. “We used to eat at Ichiraku’s a few times a week,” she scrunched her nose in distaste, “when we were genin,” she finished.

“Itachi says Sasu-chan always complains about Naruto-kun’s ramen eating habits but I didn’t realize this was your guys’ place of choice,” Shisui chuckled. “Does he know that the stand two streets over also does a killer ramen? A gal needs variety if I recall correctly,” he threw in cheekily. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he continued. “There’s also this other place that has great ambience and incredible food—you should come some time?” he voice rising in speed and pitch at the end of the sentence.

Her step faltering, Sakura looked up at Shisui. “Huh?” she questioned at his word choice, “What is it?”

“My place,” he responded quickly, smiling sunnily at her and ignoring the rush of blood to his face.

Shisui’s heart thundered at the way her mouth opened in surprise and he felt his bones reverberate when the tips of her ears turned pink. While she scrunched her nose at the cheesy line, she couldn’t help the way her lips quirked up.

“Well—”

“SAKURA-CHAN!” Naruto screamed, running towards her from down the street, waving both hands excitedly. Behind Naruto, walking at a leisurely pace, was Itachi and Sasuke. Sending Shisui an apologetic smile, Sakura faced Naruto as he spun her around in a hug.

Exasperated, Shisui watched Itachi amble towards him and sent him a mental middle finger. Looking pleased with himself, Itachi didn’t even try to hide his smirk behind his massive ice cream cone.

“Me and teme ran into Itachi-nii and he said you and Shisui-nii were around here somewhere,” Naruto exclaimed. Turning to acknowledge Shisui he said, “Oh, dude nice pants, your ass looks great in them—let’s all get Ichiraku!” he shouted, grabbing Sakura’s wrist and running towards a waving Teuchi.

Shisui stood alone in the middle of the street with his mouth slightly open. Itachi joined his side while Sasuke trailed after his two teammates, not before assessing Shisui’s shirt and pants and throwing him a grimace.

“Tch,” Sasuke said dismissively.

“You love this don’t you, Itachi.”

“Ah,” he responded. Itachi angled his ice cream towards Shisui and raised a brow.

“No.”

Itachi pouted.

___

Bounding ahead to Ichiraku’s, Naruto pulled the chair against the wall with a flourish, exaggerating a bow and extending his hand towards Sakura. Easily following the mimicry of their genin days, she giggled and pretended to ignore him. Sakura took the seat at the middle of the bar which Sasuke quietly pulled out for her.

Pouting, Naruto complained, “Aw, c’mon Sakura-chan, you don’t actually want to sit next to teme, do you? He asked, easing in the seat to her left.

“It’s so she can mediate when you eventually say something stupid to piss me off,” Sasuke said, distributing the menus.

Sakura punched him in the arm in response and turned to chat about the menu with Naruto. When Shisui and Itachi settled into the wooden seats next to Sasuke, Sakura asked,

“How long are you two in the village for?” leaning towards Shisui and Itachi.

“We’ll both be local for about a week.” Itachi offered, now nibbling delicately at his cone.

“They’ve both been easing back on their ANBU duties and are doing more stuff for the clan,” Sasuke supplied, absentmindedly picking at a paint chip on the counter.

Whooping in response Naruto added, “Hell, yeah!” he threw a fist into the air. “Now you guys can train with us more! And Itachi-nii,” he started, leaning back in his chair to look at Itachi, “if you could bring more of those rice balls you made last time, they were incredible, dattebayo!”

Smiling, Itachi leaned back to discuss snacks with Naruto.

“And what about you, Sakura-sensei,” Shisui asked, completely pushing Sasuke out of the way.

Grumbling, Sasuke pushed back at Shisui, which the elder responded by trapping a hissing Sasuke in a headlock.

Rubbing Sasuke’s head placatingly, Sakura said, “I should be staying in the village for the next week too—there’s a lot of hospital stuff I’ve got to do.” Nodding to Teuchi as he placed her order in front of her, she added, “I’m glad you’ll be in the village this week, we should train together again—if you want,” she fiddled with her wooden chopsticks. “It was great to spar with you and watch you, I learned a lot.”

Jealous that he wasn’t invited to the spar, Sasuke wrenched himself from Shisui’s grasp and aggressively ripped his chopsticks apart. Noting his little brother’s behavior, Itachi chuckled and said, “I just told Naruto I’d stop by your training this week, otouto.”

“Tch,” Sasuke responded. But, the way his shoulders relaxed and he smiled gently into his bowl made it clear he was pleased.

“Sakura-chan,” Naruto started. “I feel like I never see you anymore!” he said between bites of ramen. “Let’s do a Team 7 get together—you, me, teme, Kaka-sensei, Yamato Taichou, and Sai too!” he slurped noisily.

“Yeah you’re right,” Sakura sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “With all my projects, the hospital, and,” she waved her hands distractedly, “we haven’t hung out in a while.” Frowning lightly she said, “We could do it at my place, but I don’t know if I could fit everyone…” she trailed off.

Sensing the opportunity, Shisui swooped in. “You should invite your friends over, Sasu-chan,” he mockingly admonished.

Ignoring Shisui’s baiting and staring down at his bowl, Sasuke grumbled.

“Absolutely no-“

“Your friends are coming over?” Itachi asked excitedly.

“No-“

“Yes!” chorused Naruto, Sakura, and Shisui.

“They’re,” Sasuke started, pointing his chopsticks at Naruto, “going to make a mess.”

Ignoring Sasuke’s continued rumblings, Itachi started to list off different food and dessert ideas to Naruto who grew more and more excited by his suggestions if his hand waving was anything to go by. Glancing sharply to his right at an extremely pleased Shisui, Sasuke scowled.

“I know you just took advantage of nii-san’s househusband fantasies,” Sasuke whispered sharply. In the background, Itachi was dreamily listing the various courses he thought would best suit Team 7’s tastes while Naruto and Sakura egged him on with ideas of their own.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” Shisui responded smugly, leisurely slurping his noodles.

Irritated, Sasuke leaned across Shisui to talk some sense into his brother, but Itachi was staring serenely into space, using his full genius brain to plan out dinner. Huffing, Sasuke hunched in his seat and poked dejectedly at his noodles, missing the way Sakura peered past him.

___

Dinner at the Uchiha household was scheduled that Friday—a few days after lunch at Ichiraku’s. Shisui, conscious to not make another questionable fashion choice, opted for black training pants and a traditional Uchiha top—short sleeved and high collared with the Uchiha fan embroidered on the back.

Arriving at the head family’s home, he was greeted by a tired looking Fugaku who wearily told Shisui that everyone was in the kitchen. Laughing to himself, Shisui figured that Itachi and Mikoto had ran Fugaku to the ground with dinner preparations. Trailing after his uncle towards the kitchen, he saw Sasuke tending to a flower bouquet.

“Why are you here?” Sasuke asked, incensed.

He ignored the venom in his younger cousin’s eyes since he didn’t look very intimidating with carnations in hand. Shisui presented a tin-foil covered pan.

“He made shokupan,” Itachi said breezily.

“They should be here any minute! Sasuke, Fugaku, go set the table and get the plum wine out of the fridge,” Mikoto ordered, putting last minute touches on the pastries she and Itachi were decorating.

In a few minutes, there was knocking at the front door and Itachi went out to greet Sakura and Naruto.

“Come on in,” Itachi said happily. Leading them inside he said, “I ran to the store earlier today and got everyone slippers,” pointing to the neat row along the wall.

“Wow, Itachi-nii. You really got this mom thing down,” Naruto noted, nodding to himself.

“You think?” Itachi smiled serenely and Sakura giggled at his pastel yellow apron with white trimming.

“No one else could make it today,” Sakura said frowning. Handing a wrapped plant to Itachi she said, “Yamato Taichou and Sai are out on a mission, Kakashi said he was…busy…” she trailed off.

Humming to himself while inspecting the healthy green leaves of the plant and the tasteful wrapping, Itachi said, “Sakura, you really didn’t have to.” But the pleased look on his face said otherwise.

“Hey! I helped too!” Naruto interrupted loudly.

___

Settling himself at the low dining room table, Fugaku sat at the head of the table. To his right was Sakura, Naruto, and Sasuke. To his left sat Mikoto, Itachi, and Shisui.

“Wow, everything looks incredible,” Sakura gushed at the spread.

Naruto nodded enthusiastically, eyes gleaming. “Mikoto oba-chan, Itachi-nii, you guys really out did yourselves!”

“I helped too, dobe,” Sasuke grumbled.

“I made the shokupan!” Shisui chirruped.

It was a little too much food for the seven of them, Shisui noted. He looked down to the heaping bowl of white rice in front of him with a hearty serving of stew to its right—steam still emanating from both. Each person also had an individual portion of teriyaki salmon, its sweet glaze reflecting the dining room light above them. Sat on the middle of the traditional table, Itachi and Mikoto also prepared stir fried vegetables, soba salad, fried tonkatsu, mapo tofu, and tempura on large serving plates. The dishes took every space of the dining room table, some of it teetering dangerously close to an edge—the table overflowed with intermingling spices and glistening sauces.

Shisui blanched knowing that dessert was bound to be a similarly overwhelming experience.

Saying a brief thanks to his guests, Fugaku uttered a brief, “Itadakimasu,” and began eating.

___

Between the passing of dishes, clinking of chopsticks, and hums of pleasure, easy chatter filled the room.

“Thank you for the coconut oil dear, it works so well,” Mikoto smiled at Sakura over her glass of wine.

Dabbing her lips delicately after devouring several slices of tofu, Sakura shook her head.

“It was no problem—thank you,” she said, looking at Mikoto and Itachi, “for the dumplings. I ate them all in one sitting they were incredible,” she gushed.

Sasuke grumbled beside her, saying he had helped too and that it shouldn’t be physically possible to consume that many dumplings at once, but his mother cut him off.

“I heard we have Hyuuga Neji-kun to thank for the hair tips?” Mikoto teased.

At the mention of Neji, Shisui slowed his chewing and conceded defeat to Naruto, who was not-so-subtly trying to eat all of the tempura as quickly as possible. Shisui looked discreetly at Sakura to see how she would respond.

Sakura was caught by surprise at the comment and her spoon hovered in midair for a millisecond. Processing the joke, her shoulders shook lightly as she giggled and playfully rolled her eyes.

Naruto, with a mouthful of food said, “Neji does have nice hair, ‘ttebayo.”

Choking a little when Sasuke elbowed him in the stomach he stuttered, “A-ah, not as nice as yours, Sakura-chan!” The table laughed at the duo in response.

“Itachi-nii, you should quit ANBU and become a cook, this is the best food I’ve had in forever,” Naruto said dreamily.

Fugaku frowned deeply into his wine. “Yes, Itachi, when will you quit ANBU and fully take on your duties as clan head?”

Fugaku’s shoulder length brown hair had streaks of gray in it, which Mikoto lovingly said made him look refined although she had hardly aged in the past five years. His face showed years of exhaustion and responsibilities with his heavy brow and fine lines at the side of his mouth. His hands were still rough and battle worn despite it being years since his active duty days. Despite it all, his eyes were still keen, sharp as flint, and just as dark.

The rest of the table stilled with Fugaku’s displeasure—the Uchihas either frowning at Fugaku or throwing Itachi an apologetic glance. Sakura and Naruto ate impossibly quicker.

“Well Father,” Itachi started breezily, taking a languid sip of his glass. “You still have life in you yet.”

Preparing for an even more disgruntled Fugaku, Naruto and Sakura nervously chattered about the incredible food, piling each other’s plates even higher, and Shisui off handedly wondered if Sasuke had ever mentioned that Sakura’s appetite matched Naruto’s.

Surprising his guests, Fugaku wearily sighed into his rice bowl. “Son, please put me out of my misery so I can spend time with my wife.”

Over Mikoto’s pleased giggles and Sasuke’s embarrassed choke, Sakura and Naruto stopped their babbling to stare openly at Fugaku. Realizing that their surprise was obvious, they busied themselves again with food, ignoring Sasuke’s second-hand disgust.

“And Shisui,” Fugaku said sharply, cutting off whatever sly retort he had prepared on the tip of his tongue, “when will you fully accept the mantle as the police force commander?” he questioned.

Ignoring Shisui’s attempt at a response, Fugaku braced his hands on the floor behind his back and looked up at the ceiling. “Why Itachi and Sasuke don’t want to take over the police force is beyond me,” he muttered to himself as Mikoto gently consoled him.

Laughing at his uncle’s tiredness Shisui joked, “Well oji-san, given that Itachi’s biggest dream is being a full-time househusband—” Naruto looked incredibly interested at this prospect. “—and mine is living on oba-san’s food for the rest of my life,” Sasuke rolled his eyes at this. “Maybe we’ll make you suffer a little longer.”

Shisui raised his glass to Itachi, who clinked his glass in return, happily sipping the plum wine at the expense of an entirely spent Fugaku who mumbled to himself about shattered retirement dreams.

___

After dinner, Naruto and Sakura helped clear out the dishes despite Mikoto and Itachi’s protests. While Sasuke and Fugaku were relegated to cleaning the dishes, Shisui prepared the tea while Mikoto and Itachi set the table with dessert.

Surprisingly, dessert wasn’t as overwhelming as Shisui thought it would be. There was sakuramochi at the center of the table, elegantly plated in a neat line on a porcelain plate, the pickled blossom leaf folded meticulously over each cake. Itachi’s eyes crinkled towards Sakura while setting it down. Mikoto placed the higashi towards the end of the table, near Sasuke’s seat. The biscuit-like sweet, Shisui noticed amusedly, had uzumaki swirls pressed onto each biscuit. Shisui’s shokupan was also set down alongside a small pot of honey and jam. The last dessert was Fugaku’s favorite: butter cookies. Each cookie was a perfect circle and slightly browned at the edges. But to Shisui’s increased amusement, a black, three-tomoe sharingan was stenciled in icing on each cookie.

Settling back at the table, Sasuke looked at each dessert in growing exasperation before taking in the sharingan butter cookies. He glanced at Itachi in thinly veiled disbelief, but Itachi was intently staring at his guests’ reactions.

Sakura and Naruto had expressions of awe on their face. Naruto, with one hand on his protruding stomach looked a little nauseous when he said, “Wow…you really went all out on this team dinner…it looks so good dattebayo,” he finished weakly.

Sakura, trying to make up for her teammate’s lack of gusto quickly chirped, “I’m SO impressed with your icing skills,” she gushed, “I tried once and it was a complete failure,” she pouted, running a hand through her ponytail. “I’m so full from that incredible dinner but we’ll,” she quickly darted her eyes to Naruto, “make sure and try everything,” she finished, silencing Naruto’s protests.

As Itachi went prattled on the fine details of piping, not icing, because they’re obviously very different, Shisui idly wondered if Sasuke never hosted team dinners because of Itachi.

___

As everyone forced themselves to eat as much dessert as possible for Itachi’s sake, at the head of the table, Mikoto was cajoling her husband in hushed tones and nudging him with her shoulder.

“Sakura dear,” Mikoto started, which silenced the rest of the table. Mikoto turned her head to her husband. He responded by straightening his back and clearing his throat a few times.

“Sakura,” he started stiffly, not quite looking her in the eye. “Thank you,” Fugaku said, “for your work with the clan medics.

Shisui looked at his uncle, then Sakura in surprise—he hadn’t known just how close she was to the Uchiha clan. Looking around the table, no one else seemed to be surprised with her work, more so surprised at Fugaku’s thanks.

Sakura smiled kindly at Fugaku and Mikoto. “You’re welcome, the sharingans a tricky kekkai genkai and the blockages in the delicate blood vessels are definitely hard to work with, but working with Sasuke and Kakashi gave me a leg up. I’m just happy you allowed me to treat your clan members and train your clan medics.”

“With your instruction, Sakura-chan,” Mikoto began, “nearly every clan member has noted a mental and physical improvement. The Uchiha owe you a life debt.” Fugaku, Itachi, and Sasuke nodded in agreement.

Blushing at the compliment, Sakura shook her head. “Thank you, but you all don’t owe me anything. The payment, as agreed, was fully enough.”

Shisui paused. He hadn’t realized that Sakura had found a way to ease the pain the sharingan brought. Having awoken his mangekyo at an extremely young age, he was used to the near perpetual eyestrain and frequent migraines that came with overuse. He had given up on his clan medics’ treatment for his eyes since they’d been ineffective over the years. Incredibly interested at the prospect of relieving his pain he quickly turned to Sakura.

She was still talking to Fugaku and Mikoto, trying to convince them that they didn’t have to commit to any favors for her, and all of his thoughts stilled. She was talking with her hands, trying to explain that she was just glad to be of service to her teammate’s family, and by extension, the village. That no one should be in chronic pain if there was anything she could do about it. Her cheeks were flushed with the wine, and he was taken by the fullness of her lips. Wet with the plum wine, they glistened in the soft overhead light. Every so often, he could see a glint of her pink tongue as she laughed, or caught the corner of her lip.

Noticing that Itachi was staring at him with amusement, Shisui mentally shook himself out of his stupor.

“Ne, Sakura-sensei, I hadn’t realized you figured out the sharingan. Any chance I could schedule a doctor’s appointment with you?” He smiled cheekily at her, ignoring the way Sasuke and Naruto threw daggers at him.

“See, Sakura-chan,” Mikoto said, “you take such good care of our boys—no matter what you say, we’ll always be in you debt.”

“Mikoto-san—” Sakura looked down at her shirt—a standard issue jounin top—which now had a dark wine stain blooming at her stomach.

Naruto looked sheepishly at her, grabbing his napkin. “Sorry…at least it wasn’t your kimono this time?” Naruto said as he dabbed.

“Aw man,” Sakura complained, “this is one of my last good ones too.” While it was customary for shinobi to keep one or two sets of pristine uniforms for show—if they were on guard duty for a prestigious client, or to maintain appearances for foreign dignitaries—the reality was that most shinobi were running around in repeatedly stained, slightly tattered, hole riddled uniforms until they were unwearable.

Getting up to rinse her shirt in the sink, Mikoto stopped her. “Let me get you something to change into,” she said, rising from her seat. At the same time, Sasuke stood up, saying he’d get something of his, and missed the way Shisui had grabbed the back of his own shirt collar and started to undress. Itachi yanked the hem of Shisui’s shirt down and Fugaku stared at Shisui like he was stupid.

“No, no, sit back down Sasuke,” Mikoto said quickly, “look how pretty Sakura’s hair is today,” gesturing at her pink locks, “I’ll have to get her something of mine.” Mikoto placed a hand at Sakura’s upper back and ushered her along.

Sitting back down, Sasuke stared after his mom and teammate in silent confusion over the correlation of Sakura’s everyday pony tail and clothes.

After a few minutes, Mikoto and Sakura shuffled back into the main dining area. Mikoto walked slightly behind Sakura, staring intently at her sons’ and nephew’s faces. Catching the glint in her eye, Fugaku sighed.

Sakura changed into a loose black sweater with an Uchiha fan stitched on the breast. The sweater itself had a similar cut to the jounin top, and was slightly loose on Sakura’s frame. Seeing his teammate, Sasuke furrowed his brow. He had several shirts exactly like that. Sakura also probably had several shirts like that—it wasn’t particularly nice even—why did it have to be his mother’s, he wondered. What does it have to do with her hair—did ponytails have some significance he hadn’t known about? Deep in thought, he continued to scrutinize while Itachi happily munched on butter cookies. Glancing nonchalantly at Sakura he offered a “Hm,” and went back to cajoling Naruto into eating more.

Shisui was gone. The thought of Sakura wearing his clothes with the Uchiha fan would be forever branded in memory. He imagined quiet mornings with her as he made her coffee as she got ready in the mornings. He imagined how she’d look wearing one of his t-shirts—the oversized fit exposing the cream of her shoulder and him kissing the open space.

He watched her as she spoke. The slender curve of her neck, the peach fuzz on her cheeks, and the irresistible plumpness of her lips mesmerized him. Shisui felt the rush of chakra to his eyes, activating his sharingan, and quickly turned his head.

“Thank you for the meal,” Sakura said, rising from her seat, bowing to Mikoto and Itachi.

“Yeah, dinner was great thank you so much!” Naruto chimed in. “Ne, ne, Sakura-chan,” leaning towards her with a glint in his eyes, “why don’t you stay and sleepover! It’ll be like our genin days!” Naruto cheered.

Lightly grimacing, Sakura responded, “I have a shift at the hospital at six in the morning—maybe next time,” she apologized, although she didn’t look sorry at all.

“It must be exhausting having multiple full time jobs,” Itachi said sagely, still munching on butter cookies.

“Yes.” Fugaku deadpanned. “I wonder.”

Completely ignoring his father, Sasuke got up and heaved Naruto with him as well. Nodding to his mother, he jutted his chin to Sakura then jerked his head at the door.

“God, teme—use your words!” Naruto yelled, swatting the back of Sasuke’s head. Ducking before Naruto could hit him, Sasuke jabbed the side of Naruto’s stomach, grinning when he doubled over and wheezed. “W-we’re gonna walk S-Sakura-chan home,” he managed to get out, glaring at Sasuke from his hunched over position.

Seeing his chance, Shisui shot up from his seat and clapped a heavy hand onto Naruto’s back, forcing the blonde to stay hunched over. Cheerfully he said, “I’ll do it! My apartment’s on the way anyways and you’re staying here!” Squeezing Sasuke’s shoulder forcefully, Shisui grinned at his younger cousin trying not to flinch in his vice grip.

Raising a brow, Sakura looked at Shisui unimpressed, although the corner of her lip was curling. Itachi mirrored Sakura, except he was actually unimpressed. Fugaku massaged his nose bridge and his wife hid her smile behind her hand.

“Sasuke, Naruto, come help with the dishes,” Mikoto said.

Sakura gave once last bow to Sasuke’s parents and waved at her friends before heading out.

___

Sakura’s apartment was not on the way to Shisui’s. In fact, it was on the opposite side of the village.

But, there was no way he’d miss the opportunity to talk to her one-on-one without the intrusion of pesky teammates or baby cousins. They walked leisurely side by side, shoulders occasionally bumping, as he basked in her undivided attention. The walk to her apartment was made in quiet tones, careful not to break the stillness that surrounded them.

Crickets chirping in the background and the moon softly illuminating their way, Shisui, for the first time with Sakura, felt at ease. He wondered if maybe they were meant for this—quiet conversations under the moonlight, with her wearing the Uchiha crest.

#shisui uchiha #sakura haruno #shisaku #shisaku fanfiction #sakura x shisui #sakura x uchiha #shisui fanfiction #naruto fanfiction

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senor-cummies · 3 years

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Happy post a wip Saturday! This is part of a fic that follows Link's journey from the shrine of resurrection to the battle with Ganon. It's partially a diary fic, this part ends in ✨steamy ghost sex✨ but it cuts off a bit before that lol

“Do you really have to do that in front of me?” Revali gagged, face contorting in a grimace. Link didn’t even look up from what he was doing, just let his knife slide through the meat, separating it from bone as he butchered a duck. He’d salt cure the breasts, that would make for something good to snack on that wouldn’t take up much room. He could debone the thighs and wing sections, or he could fry them, but either way he was overjoyed to have something besides mushrooms and fried armoranth to eat.

“You could just go back to the Spirit Realm. I’m sure the others miss you. Or you could go do ghost things in the woods. Scare stable hands to death. Etcetera.”

“Or,” Revali huffed, hovering over Link’s head. “You could be bit more considerate as to not filet my slain brethren in front of me.”

“I thought Rito weren’t birds. In fact, if you’d bothered to do your research, you’d know we have more in common with the Zora, rather the Zora have more in commons with us, then those every day avians is, I believe, exactly what you said word for word.”

Revali guffawed at the hylian’s horrible impression of him, tucking his hands under his elbows and bobbing his head back and forth like cuckoo.

“I don’t sound like that,” he grumbled, floating down to sit on the other side of the camp, next to the dwindling fire.

“Sure you do! You talk like this all pompous and proper. I’m Revali, the Rito Champion, I’m the greatest archer of the Rito and I’m so much better than you meh meh meh everything in New Hyrule is weird and dirty and you don’t bathe enough. Are you really going to wear that? When are you going to free Naboris? When are you going to sleep? ” Revali raised an eyebrow.

“You’re shit talking me and yet you’re not even gonna mention how you talk? Oh, look at me, I’m Link, I’m a hylian, I have a plain and boring voice and a limited vocabulary! I die six times every day because I keep forgetting to eat! You know what sounds like a fun and productive way to spend my Saturday afternoon? Getting blown up! Look at me on my stupid horse in my stupid clothes that don't fit! My only redeemable quality is the fact that I'm pretty!"

Link stared at him with a blank face.

"Did I really trigger a memory?" Link just kept staring.

"What about that triggered a memory? HELLO??? HYRULE TO LINK!" Link blunk, the corner of his mouth pulling into a smile.

"You...you think I'm pretty?" His cheeks turned a little pink. Revali squawked, his feathers puffing up.

"W--what? No! I don't think you're pretty! I mean, I can't deny that one may perceive you as attractive but I...I am not one of the people who think you're attractive!"

Link smirked.

"You have a crush on me~"

"No I do not!"

"Yes you do~ Revali and Me sitting in a tree K I S S I N G~"

"SHUT UP! FIRST OFF ALL IT'S REVALI AND I! SECOND OF ALL WE CAN'T KISS!"

"Oh, but you wish we could~"

"N--no I do not! You know what? I don't have to deal with this, I'm going back to the spirit realm!"

The last thing he heard before he was met with the smiling faces if the deceased champions was was Link's roaring laughter.

"Uh..." He stared at them, gulping. "How much of that did you hear?"

Urbosa chuckled, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"All of it."

Let me know if you want the rest of it! And also, a little birdie told me part 2 of Agony, Mine Far Greater Than Yours might be posted tomorrow...just a heads up for those of you who asked for it.

#revali botw #link botw #botw revali #botw link #revalink #revalink fic #excerpts from my writing #post a wip saturday #wip #botw #loz #tloz #mandy writes shit

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pterodactylterrace · 3 years

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Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 3

Chapter Summary: You’re late for tea

Rating: 18+ for later chapters

Warning: Possible swear words, dirty thoughts, nudity

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Friday had been a strange day for Faye. First, Henry wasn't on set. It took an embarrassingly long time for her to remember being told he had a few days off of filming.

Then, Mrs. Anderson sent her a strange series of texts asking about him. Sure, Faye had mentioned him a few times. Also, Briar was constantly going on about the man with the fluffy dog, so it made some sort of sense that she would ask about him. Not to mention Mrs. Anderson was always trying to find her a 'nice young man' to settle down with, so fixating on the one man she had mentioned wasn't that odd in retrospect.

Then, as she was pulling her beat up car into her driveway, she noticed an unfamiliar, shiny vehicle already parked outside. Maybe that was the new car Mr. Anderson had been dying for? Why would he park at her house instead of in his own drive a few doors down, though? Was it a surprise for Mrs. Anderson?

Now, she was walking into her house only to be greeted by a very excited, very large fluffball at the door.

"Kal?" That was definitely Kal. He was the only black and white Akita she knew with the habit of knocking his rear into her leg for attention, although his getup was rather strange. Why was Henry's dog in her house, and why was he wearing fairy wings, her daughter's dress up fairy tutu and at least a dozen mardi gras necklaces? Also, the floppy sun hat on his head was a nice touch. He seemed to enjoy having it on as well. That, or it was tied on too well for him to get off.

The dog's attire should have prepared her for when she looked into the living room. There sat Mrs. Anderson, her sun hat on along with one of Briar's scarfs and glow in the dark glasses perched above her regular seeing glasses. Next to her was Briar, her full fairy princess costume on, complete with wings, crown and a scepter, pouring pretend tea into the strangest guest's cup.

There sat Henry Cavill, cross legged on her living room floor, tiny plastic tea cup in his massive hand. On his head was perched a plastic crown, a feather boa wrapped around his thick neck, and if the sparkles were anything to go by, Briar had attacked him with her glitter body spray.

"Mommy!" Briar gasped, dropping her plastic tea pot and racing over to her mother, wrapping her arms around her legs.

"Hi, sweetie. What's going on?" Faye asked cautiously.

"You're late for tea." Henry replied, taking a pretend sip from his cup.

"I hope it's alright, dear. You did say he was a friend, and Briar seemed so fond of his dog, I didn't have the heart to turn him away." Mrs. Anderson explained.

"Uhh... yeah, it's fine." Faye mumbled, still taking in the sight before her, Kal and Briar rejoining the tea party as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

"My mistake. I thought we agreed on Friday." Henry apologized, pushing himself up. "We've only been here a little while. We can leave if you'd like."

"Oh, no. That's ok." Faye assured, finally setting her bag down, hastily turning over her sketch pad on the entrance table. Some things weren't meant for anyone other herself to see.

"I'll just be heading off then, Miss Warren." Mrs. Anderson excused herself, taking off her borrowed accessories and gathering her things. "You all have fun."

"So, uhh... how... how long have you been here?" Faye asked once she closed the door behind the older woman, quickly scanning the room to make sure nothing difficult to explain was in plain sight.

"Not long." Henry assured, sitting back down at Briar's insistent tugging, folding his long muscular legs back up as he settled on the floor in front of the coffee table.

"More tea!" Briar demanded, holding the cup up to his mouth, prompting him to take another pretend sip.

"You make wonderful tea, miss." Henry complimented, Briar preening in response.

"Mommy, you want tea?" Briar asked, a wide yawn cracking her little face.

"I would love some, sweetheart, but it's time for your nap." Faye pointed out.

"No! I wanna play tea!" Briar whined, plopping back on her backside in a pout.

"Briar." Faye warned, raising a brow at her.

"But... but... tea party!" Briar insisted.

"We can play more tea party after your nap. You're getting grumpy."

"No I'm not!" Briar insisted, her chubby face drawn into a scowl.

"That was grump right there." Faye pointed out, gently scooping up her cranky daughter. "Now let's go lay you down for a nap, and then we can play more tea party when you wake up."

"I don't wanna nap!" Briar yawned, rubbing her hazel eyes in an attempt to stay awake.

"You need one."

"I don't wanna nap, I'm tired!"

"Sound logic, my love." Faye sighed, settling her daughter into her bed, tucking her in with her favorite stuffed unicorn. The little girl was asleep before Faye even reached the door, curled up around her stuffie with her little tush up in the air.

"Sorry you had to see that. She really hates going down for a nap when she's having fun."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to get her wound up." Henry apologized, removing the plastic crown from his head.

"Don't worry about it, she's just happy to have more guests at her tea party." Faye assured, picking up the plastic dishes and putting them back in the toy box.

"She was quite insistent we join, though I do think Kal enjoyed getting dressed up." Henry chuckled, beginning to remove the dog's costume.

"Good thing you agreed, otherwise you would have faced the wrath of Briar." Faye giggled, noticing the unicorn and rainbow stickers all over Henry's back.

"It was a pleasure attending her party. She is quite a wonderful host." Henry laughed, stowing the costumes back in the toy box. "Now, I do believe you requested help with a cake for our little party host."

"Yes, right this way." Faye waved, heading off to her tiny eat in kitchen. "What do we need?"

"Well... you have an oven, so that's a start. I brought the ingredients with me. Do you happen to have a cake pan?" Henry listed, opening the fridge and removing the bag he'd brought along.

"I have a glass baking pan." Faye offered.

"We will work with that." Henry agreed. "Now, measuring cups?"

"They are around here somewhere."

"Do you know how to use them?" Henry teased, setting the ingredients from the bag onto the counter.

"Vaguely. I just usually eyeball everything when I cook." Faye admitted.

"That won't work with baking. It's a science and the measurements have to be exact." Henry explained. "So, we'll start with the dry ingredients. Can you measure out two cups of flour?"

"I have no idea where the cup is. I have half a cup."

"Four of those, then." Henry absently mumbled, scanning over his mother's recipe card again. He glanced over to see her attacking the bag of flour with the measuring cup, wincing to himself as he watched. "Faye?"

"Mmhmm?"

"Forgive me for asking, but do you know how to measure flour?" Henry asked, cringing when she tried to smooth the top down with her hand, causing a flour explosion in her face.

"I'm guessing what I just did wasn't right."

"Not quite." Henry chuckled, stepping behind her, taking her hand in his and dumping the flour back into the bag. "You can use a spoon to sift it. Packed flour and unpacked flour are two totally different measurements." He explained, handing her a spoon and taking her other hand in his, showing her how to sift the flour into the measuring cup.

Faye tried to keep her cool and ignore the fact that Henry Cavill was pressed up behind her, holding her hands and showing her how to measure flour like it was the most natural thing in the world. Surely this was just some dream and if it was, no one had better wake her up.

"Got it?" Henry asked, turning his head to look at her, snapping her from her thoughts. Faye did her best not to stare at his lips, so close and yet so far away. She could just lean in...

"Yeah, got it." She quickly confirmed, forcing her attention back to the task at hand.

And so it went, Henry leading the way through the mysterious land of baking, Faye following blindly behind. He even let her lick the spoon when he was done with it, and he in no way stared in awe at the way her tongue moved around it. He was a gentleman, after all, and imagining what else that tongue could do would be highly inappropriate.

It wasn't until after the cake had been pulled from the oven to cool that Briar woke up, wandering into the kitchen with her now disheveled princess costume still on, her hair sticking out in strange angles as she rubbed her eyes.

"You're here!" Briar gasped, taking notice of the giant in the room and scurrying over to him, throwing her arms around his legs.

"Nice to know where I stand." Faye pouted as Henry scooped the girl up, her daughter not even glancing her way in favor of talking to Henry.

"Can we play dollies?" Briar asked, batting her thick dark lashes at him, her chubby lip sticking out in a pout.

"I've never played before, you'll have to show me how." Henry agreed, smiling down at the little girl held securely in his arm.

"Mommy, you look silly!" Briar giggled, finally looking over at her mother.

"That's not nice." Faye gently scolded.

"What on your face?" Briar asked.

"Mommy had an incident with the flour." Henry explained. Shit. Had she really spent the last hour, practically drooling over her guest with flour all over her face? She really should write a book on how to flirt. No doubt, it would be a best seller.

"I'm gonna go get cleaned up." Faye mumbled, her face heating up beneath the flour coating as she ducked her head and beelined down the hall.

"I'll be learning how to play dolls." Henry chuckled after her, carrying the toddler back to the living room so her mother could shower in peace.

Fifteen minutes later, Briar was still explaining the different names of her dolls and stuffed animals, piling each on top of Henry and resorting to stuffing them under Kal's paws when she ran out of room on her semi-willing captive. Faye cracked the bathroom door open and glanced to the living room to make sure her guest was thoroughly distracted before she slipped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped tightly around herself as she snuck down the hall to her bedroom, breathing a sigh of relief when she closed the door behind herself. She could almost convince herself he was interested in her with the couple times she'd caught him looking her way when he thought she wouldn't notice. No need to scare him off with her mom-bod now.

Sure, it hadn't been that hard on her figure. She wasn't left with the same saggy stomach her mother had after her pregnancies, but then again, her mother had carried two sets of twins almost to term. Talk about a superwoman. Though she did decide no more children after her younger brother and sister had been born.

"You keep giving me a two for one deal, I'm not doing this again!"

Good times. Good times. The wonders of having twins running strongly in your family. Faye had only given birth to one, but she still bore the stretch marks on her stomach and breasts, and the loose skin on her stomach had never really gone back to the way it was before.

Faye was shaken from her thoughts by her daughter's all too familiar exclamation coming from behind her. "Mommy, you're nakie!" She would never understand her daughter's near obsession with pointing out the fact that she was in fact, naked during and directly after showers, but it was without a doubt one of her favorite hobbies. Right behind tea parties if she had to guess.

"Wait, what? Oh!" That was not her daughter's voice. Faye's head snapped up to find Briar's chubby hand wrapped tightly around Henry's little finger, his other hand clapped firmly over his eyes. "I am so sorry! She wanted to get her stuffed dragon, I did not know this was your room!"

Faye snatched her towel off the bed and wrapped it around herself again, grabbing the dragon from the pillow and handing it off to Briar. The little girl happily took her dragon and led Henry back down the hall, not bothering with the door. The wonders of being young and innocent. She had no clue what she had just done.

Faye quickly shut the door herself, remembering to turn the lock this time, though it was a moot point by then. She threw on a tank top, leggings and her fluffy socks before forcing herself to venture back out. Henry was actually sitting on the couch this time, doing his best to focus on what the little girl was saying, though truth be told, his mind kept wandering back to the quick glimpse he had gotten of Faye's backside before he registered what was going on. It was even better than the glances he had gotten when she bent over in front of him to rummage through her make up bag. Nice and round, plump yet firm. The kind of ass you just want to squeeze as you're-

"So... " Faye started awkwardly, quickly breaking Henry out of his own head. "Lunch sound good?"

"Chocolate sandwiches!" Briar quickly suggested, hugging her stuffed bunny to her chest as she bounced around.

"It looks like I'm making chocolate sandwiches, though I could probably also manage a peanut butter and jelly."

"I wouldn't want to impose, though I did want to apologize again-"

"Accident's happen, but we are going to pretend that one didn't, ok?" Faye interjected. "So nutella or peanut butter and jelly?"

"Umm... either is fine."

"Briar, keep them company while mommy makes lunch, ok?" Faye suggested, going back to the kitchen before her false confidence faded. If he was on board with repressing and denying, so was she.

Now, only one questioned remained: Would Henry prefer his sandwiches cut into dinosaurs or puzzle pieces?

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x ofc #tea party #henry cavill fanfic #guys like you #guys like you fic #multi chapter

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ship-wreckedrp · 2 years

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Follow-up to: EVENT #2--SCANTIES SCAVENGER HUNT

All Ship-Mates are contractually expected to participate in this event, and would be inclined to give a real effort, considering the prize that awaits the winners!

In addition to the details given here, here is more for everyone to know about the Scanties Scavenger Hunt. The teams will have a limited amount of time to try to win.

Good luck, everyone!

[ooc details]

Members will have from January 1st-January 22nd to write threads of their team participating in the scavenger hunt. Chat with your teammate’s mun to plot ASAP! Drama and hilarity are absolutely encouraged. Threads written on the dash are preferred, but writing a thread on Discord and posting it in full (under a ‘keep reading’) here on Tumblr is OK too.

Posting a photo &/or writing about the producer-chosen lingerie is perfectly fine. If you post it, please be sure to tag your post ‘nsfw’ for others. Additionally, while it’s being said that the producers are choosing the lingerie, in reality you can choose what lingerie’s chosen for your character(s).

You’re not, of course, expected to write out your characters/teams completing every single clue & assignment, but pick a few to have fun writing about on the dash. Give us an idea of how the hunt will go/have gone for your characters/team.

Due to the current uneven numbers, 1 team will be a team of 3.

At the end of the 3 week writing window, the winning pair will be announced on the dash!

Here are the pairs/teams:

CHANDLER & DANIEL

GABRIELA & SADHBH

IRINA & BAILEY

THOMAS & LEO

KHAMANI & ASTRID

CELESTE & XAVIER

JUNIPER & RAJ

MORGAN & OLIVER

LUNA & FINN

VIOLET & EMMIE

PENELOPE & ADDY

Scavenger Hunt clues & assignments found below. The teams list will be posted soon. BE SURE TO CAST YOUR VOTES WHILE THERE’S STILL TIME!

--SCANTY SCAVENGER HUNT CLUES & ASSIGNMENTS--

Take turns snapping a photo of your team mate(s) doing jumping jacks.

I’m round, brown and versatile. Drink me, drink from me, wear me as a bra. What am I? Find me and take a picture of me with your team.

Take turns snapping photos of your team mate(s) doing their sexiest pose on the beach

I’m probably the most common color you see on the island. Look up, look down, I’m all around. I can keep you cool during the day and keep you protected at night. If you’re creative enough, I can even protect your upper and nether regions. What am I? Find me and take a picture of you and your team appreciating me in a useful way.

Take a selfie with your team, all of you giving your best duck face to the camera.

You need me to survive. I’m the 70% on earth and the 60% in you. In fact, it’s thanks to me that you’re stuck here. What am I? Go have some fun with me and take pictures as evidence.

Take a trip to the confessional bungalow, where you’ll find some classic photobooth props (feather boa, oversized glasses, masks, paper cutouts on sticks, etc.). Each teammate, throw on a prop and get close for a silly picture together.

It may have been funny to have named me ‘The Minnow’ but the producers figured most of you are too young to get the humor. Maybe they’re wrong. Are they? Find me and take a picture with me. Bonus if your team does their best ‘Washington Crossing the Delaware’ while taking a selfie Polaroid.

Choose who’s Big Spoon and who’s Little Spoon, cozy up to your team mate and take a photo together.

I’m a pop of color that comes and seasonally goes. Some wear me. Some make teas with me. Some admire me and nothing more. Leave me be and I’ll live a long life. Pluck me away and I’ll die. But like a hydra, more will grow in my place. What am I? Find me and take a picture of your team with at least 1 of me.

Show off your lingerie, strike your most sultry pose and let your teammate(s) take a picture.

While on this island, I am just about everywhere you want to be. Sometimes I’m everywhere you don’t want me to be. The cure to get me out of all those undesired follicles, cracks and crevices? Just add water. What am I? Lay out for a full body pose and take a picture or 2.

Choose a song that would be on your vacation/getaway playlist and sing at least 10 seconds of it to your team. Have your team mate take a picture of you while you’re singing it.

I’m a prize to be won but you have to work hard to get to me. Once you do, I’m yours to make the best of. Granted, I’m more of an amorous suite than a shag shanty. What am I? Although you can’t go inside (yet), find me and take a picture at my door.

Head back to the producer’s bungalow on the opposite side of the photo booth props. There, you’ll find a colorful, feathered friend or two for you to take a picture with. Work with the wildlife conservationist present to take a picture of the feathered friend perched on each teammate’s arm.

I’m best enjoyed when I’m a little bit hard. Strip me down so you can take me in your mouth. Sweet and delicious. Get it all in before I go soft and am less appealing. What am I? Find me and take a picture of you showing your capable grip of me.

Return to your clothesline on the beach and take a picture with your teammate. With your clothesline and hung photos in the background, take a selfie with your team giving each other a smooch (cheek, lips, etc. optional)

#swevent

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rosethornewrites · 3 years

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Fic: and sings the tune without the words, ch. 3

Relationship: Jiāng Yànlí & Jīn Zǐxuān, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Characters: Jiang Yanli, Jin Zixuan, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian

Additional Tags: Epistolary, Food, Music

Summary: An epistolary follow-up to “the thing with feathers.” Exchanged letters.

Notes: See end.

Previous fic in the series: “the thing with feathers”

Chapters: 1 | 2

AO3 link

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

To Jin-gongzi,

I sincerely apologize for the delay in writing back. A-Xian had an episode, like the one you saw, but he was unconscious for two days and very frightened and confused after he woke. I had a letter started before that occurred but am writing a new one now.

I am glad you like Zihuang’s design. When a-die took me to the luthier, we discussed the various options available for both sound and decoration. Since my practice instrument was a shoo konghou, they recommended I choose the same, but the fong shou design called to me.

I decided on the mother of pearl instead of a precious metal or jade because I liked the shine of it, but also for another reason. Before A-Xian fell ill, he and A-Cheng always brought me lovely shells they found while swimming in the river. They used to compete with each other to see who could find the most diving. So the nacre reminds me of them. I don’t know if A-Xian remembers this—perhaps I should mention it to him.

I confess I am still a little distressed over A-Xian’s episode, so I apologize if I go off on tangents.

As a result of my childhood illness, I sometimes have dizzy spells. Largely it is under control, but Healer Kang said that improving my core might also improve my health. I’m happy that I can find a way to contribute to Yunmeng Jiang even with a weak body. I agree that there should be more avenues available to young cultivators who may not be able to fight monsters—if the sects encouraged such disciples to utilize their cultivation to heal or engage in other activities that would enrich the sect, it would only strengthen the sects!

Cooking is an activity I quite enjoy, and I would be happy to serve lotus root and pork rib soup sometime when you visit. My soup was the very first thing he remembered, actually. When A-Xian first came to us, he was scared and so malnourished, and I always cook it for him and A-Cheng, especially when they’re sick or troubled. I’m happy cooking it for him meant so much to him that it broke through his amnesia.

Your suggestion about handstands was something I tried. It was very difficult, and I was so involved in trying to do one that I forgot Lan-xiansheng was coming to give me a music lesson. It was so embarrassing to be caught, as I was a little disheveled. But he smiled—I think he almost laughed, even, especially after I explained.

He said your idea is sound, but I will need to work my way up to an actual handstand. For now, he showed me several exercises I can do to work on my muscles, and recommended I do the arm motions of sword forms with a light practice wooden one. I can move to heavier ones as my strength increases, and eventually I will be ready for handstands. Thank you for the suggestion. I am glad I can speak of this with you.

I was unable to find a konghou score in our library, but I can write to Lan-xiansheng to ask if there is one in theirs. I, too, enjoy that song, though there’s a sadness to it, since it’s a farewell song. I may not be at the level where I can play it yet, but it is good to know what music you like.

One of our cooks is from Lanling, but not near the capitol. I asked her about those dishes, and she knows them and will be happy to prepare them next time you visit. She’s also willing to teach me how to cook them! She cooked up basi pinggou for dessert once A-Xian recovered, even, and we all very much enjoyed it. It’s so sweet, and the texture is very pleasant. A-Xian and A-Cheng competed to make the longest thread of sugar.

Yunmeng cuisine is indeed known for its spice—but never take food from A-Xian, since he goes overboard with the spices. He dumps chili oil on everything, except my soup which he insists is perfect.

I am very fond of re gan mian (hot dry noodles), and I like pianpiya (Hubei duck) which you might enjoy since one of the dishes you mentioned is a duck dish. As a dessert, I am very fond of sweet doufunao (tofu brains/pudding).

A-Lian was a gift from the lotuses, our beautiful lotus meimei. A-Xian’s illness changed quite a bit for us. A-Niang became protective of him, and she started talking to a-die more. She also decided that we should seek orphans and street children and educate them so they may become cultivators, if they have the capacity, or take on a trade. She’s also made it her personal mission to rescue women enslaved at brothels so they might also be able to be educated and learn trades. Our family has grown, as has our sect, and we’re all very happy.

I think a-niang is happy to have found more purpose, and to have reconciled with a-die. They had deep misunderstandings, I think. A-Xian’s illness forced them to talk, and things are much better now.

I am including some of the rose petal candy you enjoyed with this letter. I hope it finds you and your family well.

Jiang Yanli

To Jiang-guniang,

Your gift of rose petal candy is much appreciated.

I am sorry to hear of your brother’s illness; you obviously care deeply for all of your siblings, so I have no doubt it was distressing for you. When I was there, he passed out for no more than a ke, which seemed from the reaction of everyone to be more typical. Yu-furen mentioned he was attacked and fell into a coma for weeks. It is quite understandable that you are distracted. Is he recovered?

The choices behind your konghou are interesting. I have not engaged in music beyond a rudimentary grasp of the suona as a pursuit of the six arts, but perhaps I should refine my skills and consider music more carefully. As you stated, we need not limit ourselves to the sword as cultivators.

As such, I agree with you on pursuing cultivation for healing and perhaps the arts. I wonder if cultivation could be utilized in the visual arts, as well. I tried to speak of it with fuqin but he seemed disinterested and called the idea “quaint.” I believe it is a good idea—no one thinks the Lan quaint for pursuing musical cultivation, and I have heard a branch of the Wen sect is known for its healing cultivation. In fact, you might look into them, though I don’t know what branch it is.

It sounds very much like you have used cooking almost as a healing art for the benefit of your brother. I wonder if, like with medicine, qi can be infused in food somehow. Maybe not for healing, but for other things like comfort. I have never considered this before, and I am enjoying this discussion. I may research it in the library here, but I would like to know what you find if you look into it as well. Regardless, your cooking sounds powerful on its own.

I had not considered the status of your body, which you mentioned was weakened by your childhood illness, and I am relieved you did not injure yourself in the attempt. That is a very real consideration if you push your body too much; I once tried one of the more advanced Jin sword techniques before I was ready to and wound up hurting my shoulder. I’m glad Lan-xiansheng prevented any harm from coming to you.

I will see if there is a konghou score for it in the Jin library, but it could probably be adapted for the konghou by a musician, perhaps with different levels so you can start with a simpler version and then progress as you improve. That’s usually how I learn footwork and sword technique. I’m not sure if your sect trains the same way.

Your description of your brothers eating basi pinggou made me smile, as I do the same thing. It’s part of the fun of eating it when it’s hot. I’m happy to hear you enjoyed it, and I hope you also enjoy the other dishes when you get to try them.

Some of our cuisine is spicy, but I can scarcely imagine eating something spicier than Yunmeng dishes—your brother must like strong flavors.

I have been living in Koi Tower my entire life, but somehow had never gone to the kitchens before. The cooks were very startled to see me. I asked about the dishes you mentioned, and one of the cooks was familiar with Yunmeng cuisine. She cautioned me that the spice can be quite strong but can be adjusted to taste. In Lanling, our doufunao is salty, so I was surprised it could be a sweet dish.

The cook kindly made a small bowl of it and allowed me to watch the preparation. She used ginger in the syrup. It was a little strange at first, since I’m used to it being a savory dish, but it was quite good. I asked if the kitchen would consider occasionally serving it for dessert with dinner and making it when you and your family come to visit, and they were amenable.

I don’t quite understand what you mean by “a gift from the lotuses,” but it is not my place to pry. Yu-furen stated she was Jiang Wuxian’s adopted sister, so it makes sense that she would also become your sister upon his adoption.

Yu-furen’s idea about orphans and street children seems sensible, especially given your brother’s past. Some gentry may be concerned about elevating the status of such children, though. She may face criticism for this, and for the other. I know a-niang hates prostitutes, but I don’t think it’s their fault if they’re slaves. What else can slaves do but obey? Rescuing them seems just.

Your parents’ relationship has turned quite positive, and it seems good for you and your siblings.

I am including some of my favorite malt candies in several flavors, and enough that your family can try them as well. My favorite is the date walnut candy. I hope you enjoy them.

With best regards,

Jin Zixuan

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

Jin Zixuan is a little jealous that Jiang Yanli’s family is so happy and his, well, isn’t. He’s also tentatively fascinated by their discussion of cultivation, and a little mad that his shitty father won’t discuss it with him. He’s also aware of why his mother hates prostitutes but is not willing to say so.

From fan-created maps, it seems Lotus Pier is in Hubei province, so I used several dishes from there as Jiang Yanli’s favorites. Doufunao is called tofu brains but is a kind of soft pudding tofu. In Shandong province it would be made with savory flavors, but in Hubei it’s made with sugar. Cantonese cooking apparently uses ginger with it, and the recipe I found also does. I also found a recipe for date walnut candy that looks divine.

Also, apparently the suona is popular in Shandong province, but also kind of sounds like the mating call of a peacock and I just couldn’t help myself. Music is one of the six arts young gentlemen would be expected to have some proficiency in, so it makes sense that he has at least rudimentary competence.

Jiang Yanli upped the ante by sending him the candy he noted enjoying. And Jin Zixuan is not one to be outdone, so of course he sent some back, and enough for her siblings to boot! This is a matter of pride!

#the untamed #mo dao zu shi #chen qing ling #cql #mdzs #jiang yanli #jin zixuan #untamed fanfiction #untamed fanfic #untamed fic #cql fanfic #cql fanfiction #cql fic #mdzs fanfic #mdzs fanfiction #mdzs fic #my fanfiction

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zinniarhee · 4 years

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Say Your Prey-ers || Zinnia & Alcher

TIMING: Pre-Full Moon, 2 days before. LOCATION: A simple farm / Zinnia’s vet clinic. PARTIES: @zinniarhee @zahneundklauen SUMMARY: Zinnia and Alcher run into one another with like minds. Things get a little messy, but Alcher ends up with a new dog. CONTENT WARNINGS: Torture, animal abuse, death, gore, blood.

Zinnia wasn’t new to the lies that so often spilled from a human’s lips. The quick witted excuses, the way they couldn’t maintain eye contact. It was laughable, really. Still, she listened, she nodded. It was for show, of course. She had no intention on ever letting this dog go back to its owner. The signs were there. The abuse that this poor creature had endured. It was disgusting. Zinnia wanted nothing more than to reach out, to sink her nails into the man’s throat, but she held back. Cleaning up a murder would be easier on their own property, to make it look as if he had been bludgeoned to death by the horses he spoke so highly of.

It wasn’t until the stars hung in the sky did Zinnia make her move. The lights in the house flickered off, and she had full intentions to go in with ease. There had been no mention of a spouse, no mention of children. She had little to worry about. Zinnia crossed the distance with ease, her car parked still, at her office. Beads of sweat dotted the back of her neck as she moved forward, but the sound of somebody behind her had her spinning. She couldn’t see anybody, but she had heard the distinct crack of wood beneath the weight of somebody’s foot. She quickly took refuge behind a large piece of plywood propped up against the side of the house and listened. It’d be easier to shift, but she couldn’t risk somebody seeing her do it.

Anger was the only emotion Alcher registered as she’d watched the man raise a hand to the cowering hound. She’d wished for nothing more, then and there, to pull out her claws and rip him apart with them. So much so, they’d grown against her will and she’d had to duck into an alleyway to calm herself down. It was too early in the day, there were too many people around-- killing him now would draw too much attention. But if she went at night, it would be so easy to make it look like an animal attack. To free her cousin and make sure no one ever hurt him again. In fact, she would take him herself if she had to. The poor thing smelled so afraid, she could hear it in his whimpers, even as she’d slunk away, bristling with her anger.

When Alcher returned, her ears were focused and ready. She was holding in her anger until the right moment-- shifting completely would not work yet, she needed to be inside first, and so she’d remained in her human form, slipping into his yard and dropping from the fence. Wood cracked under her feet but she did not care. At least, not until she smelled another. Freezing in place, covered in shadow, she listened intently-- but nothing stood out. So, instead, she followed the smell. It was familiar yet so very unfamiliar, she didn’t quite know what to make of it. It smelled almost like a cousin, but there was something distinctly...not about it. Slipping from her spot, she followed her nose, over towards a piece of plywood. She stopped a few feet away. “I know you’re there,” she said under her breath, “I can smell you.”

Zinnia could hear the footsteps, despite the fact that they were dull thuds. Quick enough to warrant her worry, but slow enough for her to know that they weren’t coming for her. At least, she hadn’t thought so. The footsteps stopped just a few feet away, and then a voice. She could barely hear it over the sudden rustle of leaves. If she were shifted, she would have no issues in hearing, smelling, seeing. Though, the individual’s words caught her off guard. Smell? Zinnia narrowed her eyes, and though she knew she’d have no trouble in defending herself if it came to that, she slipped from behind the plywood. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness, the moon illuminating the woman before her. She hadn’t seen her before, and Zinnia immediately felt wary.

“That’s strange.” Zinnia commented back. She didn’t particularly feel like outing herself to a stranger tonight, not when she had come with the intent to kill. She gave a quick furtive glance towards the house. The lights were still out. At least they hadn’t stirred the man. She cut her glance back to the woman with an arched eyebrow, “may I ask why you’re out here?” She looked over the blonde-- she didn’t necessarily seem as though she were there to rob the place, not dressed for such an event. Then again, she wasn’t dressed for much at all. Was she somehow related to the man? ZInnia’s blood ran cold. Would she have to kill two tonight? “He left something at the clinic, I’m here to return it to him.” She lied, though it was seamless-- she had plenty of practice.

“Strange how?” Alcher asked, unmoving. She stayed planted in her spot, even as the other woman’s eyes examined her. That smell...what was it? So strange yet so familiar. It was animal but not. Her eyes glanced back towards the house, then to the woman. “I did not ask you why you are here,” she answered truthfully, “I do not care.” Perhaps it was dangerous to speak such a truth to a woman she had found hiding in a man’s yard, but that was exactly why there was an ease to the admission. They both had secrets here. “I have business with him,” she finally answered, turning to look back at the woman. “It’s best if you leave.”

Zinnia raised a brow as she looked at the woman opposite her. She seemed very curt. Much of her attitude was lost on Zinnia, however, as she never felt the need to look too far into other people’s words. It was their actions that mattered. “Do you not?” Zinnia asked as she looked to the house, curiosity lighting up her features. I have business with him. The woman’s words caught Zinnia off guard. “Why should I leave?” She asked as she ran her fingers through her hair, closest to the back of her neck. She tilted her head to the side, her eyes flickering to the house, then back to the blonde. “Did he dent your car?”

Alcher tilted her head in turn. She recognized that look-- curiosity, intrigue. Whatever this man had done to her, she was not afraid of him. Perhaps she’d even come here for a similar task, though Alcher had begun to doubt that there were many others of her own mindset here. She’d only met one other so far, and he smelled of death. “I don’t wish to implicate you in what’s about to happen,” she said simply, rolling her head and turning towards the house. “No. Something much worse,” she answered, hand clenching subconsciously, “he hurt one of my cousins.”

Zinnia was smart. She caught on quickly. As soon as the woman mentioned implicating her, the light went off. She looked towards the house. Cousin? She watched for movement from within the house, then after a moment, she finally looked back to her company. “I think I can help you here.” She motioned for the woman to follow her, “it seems we’re here for a common task,” Zinnia explained quietly as she crept up to the door. She tried the door knob. It opened easily. “Doesn’t look like he thinks he’s got many enemies.” She looked over her shoulder at the woman. “I don’t doubt that you’ll kill me if I double cross you, and I, you.” She pushed the door open slightly. “So let’s try to take only one victim tonight.”

Though wary, Alcher followed. Intent was clear in the other woman’s eyes and she did not feel her instincts telling her not to. They made it to the door, which was unlocked. Much easier than breaking a window. She crouched low behind her, flicking her gaze to her. “What’s there to double cross,” she asked quietly, “if we’re here for the same thing?” She could smell the animal. And she could smell his blood. Her rage boiled. “He needs to suffer,” she said, her voice suddenly ragged, eyes sharp, “like he made him suffer.” Skin bristling, she urged the other woman forward. “Death is too easy.” Looked her directly in the eyes. “You can still leave.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Zinnia growled as she pushed the door the rest of the way open. It creaked, but only slightly. Not loud enough to alert anybody. Before she made her way into the house, she shook her head, “I’m not new to this.” She didn’t want to give too much away. Already, she was trusting this woman a little too much. If push came to shove, she would do what she needed to do to take care of the second problem, but for now, the dog’s abuser needed to be taken care of. She moved into the house, light as a feather. She stepped towards the hallway, careful not to make any noise before she reached the door from which she heard loud snoring. She looked over at the woman and nodded to tell her that he was in there, but something told her that she already knew.

Where was the poor dog? Alcher was quieting, listening, smelling the stale air inside this house. The dog was in a back room, locked away. She could hear his labored breaths, and the whine on the end of them. She could hear the man snoring behind the closed door. Her eyes met the other woman’s and she nodded back. Alcher was tired of wasting time, though, and she reached for the knob, throwing it open. No one else was in the house, anyway. The man sprung up, alerted, but Alcher was faster, and her hand was on his throat, squeezing his esophagus, pinning him to the bed. She didn’t wait for the other woman before brandishing a knife and holding it over him. “Do you think it’s fun?” she growled, teeth gritting, “Do you enjoy hurting those who can not fight back?”

Typically, Zinnia moved quietly. She could afford to. This woman, however, it seemed as though she was ready to lunge. There weren’t many other houses in the area, so if they made noise, it wouldn’t come back to bite them in the ass. Zinnia followed after the woman as the door opened. She watched the man scramble from his sheets, terror written across his features. She watched as the blonde moved with inhuman speed towards the man. Ah, Zinnia thought. Maybe that was why she was not threatened. Zinnia took her time in rounding the corner to the window, pulling the curtains. Just in case. She looked over her shoulder at the man who was now whimpering. He started to plead, but all Zinnia could do was laugh. “You think that will work? You’re wrong.” Zinnia began to look through his bedside drawers before she found a baseball bat. “Humans…” Zinnia looked from the bat, to the man, “they think strands of wood will protect them.” She dragged the bat along the ground as she repositioned herself so that she was near his legs. She had remembered that the dog had come in with a broken leg. Excellent. She drew the bat up into the air and brought it down onto the man’s kneecap. The sound of the crunch, mixed with his screams-- it was music to Zinnia’s ears.

Torture was not something Alcher usually enjoyed. Even when killing hunters, a swift death always seemed the most practical. But as her hand held the man down on the bed, his own nails clawing at her arm, trying to remove her vice grip, she felt as if he deserved a slow, torturous death. The wood that scraped along the floor was music to her ears. The cracking of his knee caps a songbird. His screams a babbling river. She found herself smiling down at him, looking over at the other woman. Her darkness reflected Alcher’s own and she had to stop for a moment to appreciate the fact that she’d somehow found another kin. The grin stayed plastered to her face as she said, “Do it again,” with a growl in her throat, “hit the other one.” Tears plastered the man’s face and he begged and squealed like the lowly filth he was for them to stop. Alcher’s eyes turned sharp on him and they reflected the moonlight that was shimmering outside, gold and bright and angry. “Did you give him mercy?” she asked, leaning down so he had nowhere to look but at her. “Did you stop when he cried?” Her grip tightened, she could feel his bones crunching under her grip. Any harder and she’d crush his windpipe, so she let up, ever so slightly. He shook his head. “Then why should we give you any?” Stood up again and looked over to the woman with the bat. “Do it.” The man screamed before the bat even swung again.

His screams wouldn’t be heard, no matter how loudly he let them splinter from his chest. There was nobody for miles. She had made sure of that. She could hear the dog whining from the other room, his nails digging at the floorboards. Of course he’d be worried. He loved unconditionally. Zinnia lifted the bat up again, bringing it down swiftly onto the other kneecap. It made the same sickening crack that the first had, and the man started to howl with pain. The woman began to speak, and Zinnia realized that they had more in common now than just torturing this man. She watched silently as the woman spoke to him, her fingers digging into the flesh of his neck. She dragged the bat against his knees, pressing it into his swollen flesh. He whimpered helplessly, and as the woman turned her attention back, Zinnia grinned at her words. “My pleasure.” She moved around her company before lifting the bat into the air, bringing it down with a sickening crack into the man’s skull. Blood spattered across her face, across the wall. She looked down at the man as he writhed. She glanced over at the blonde. Usually Zinnia worked alone, so this was… new. She wiped her face with her sleeve. He was still alive. They could make this look like a home invasion, easily. “Do you want a go?” She asked as she lifted the splintered and blood matted bat into the woman’s view.

Human weapons were so...strange to Alcher. As she reached out and wrapped her hand around the wooden bat, she could feel its weight so fully. It hung in her human-like hands, and she longed for claws and teeth instead. But she was practical, if nothing else, and she understood that changing right now would not benefit their situation. And while she could crush his windpipe with her very hands and watch him writhe and suffocate, this, perhaps, would be more satisfying. She raised the bat up above her head, awkward and unsure, before swinging it straight down into his ribs. More cracking, more screaming. She’d been right, though-- this felt much better. She did it again. And again. Listening to him sputter, watching blood bubble up his throat and out his mouth, staining his pillow case, the sheets, their clothes. Did he understand, now, how he made her cousin feel? Did he understand, now, what it meant to be weak under another’s fury? Did he understand now what it meant to be destroyed? After a few more seconds, she paused, and held the bat back out to the other woman. “Finish him,” she said in a tone that was all too calm and all too cold for the actions they’d just committed. “I need to find my cousin.”

The sound of wood against the man’s ribs sent guttural sounds throughout the room. The sound of him struggling to breathe was what Zinnia had noticed first. He was covered in blood now, and she bet that a rib had punctured one of his lungs. She knew that this was what had to be done. There was no forgiveness, not with a creature who succumbed to brutality against a being that had no protection. The addition of somebody new, however, was what made Zinnia uneasy. It seemed as though that she had the same intentions-- to protect the dog, to avenge it. Zinnia would have to trust her, and if anything ill came out of it, she would take care of it then. She looked down at the splintered bat as it was extended back towards her. Zinnia gave the woman a curt nod before she shoved the tip of the bat into the man’s windpipe, just where the blonde’s hands had been. “Rot,” Zinnia spat before she swung the bat down once more unto his head. The screams quieted, then taken over with the sound of gurgling. Zinnia’s hold on the bat had her knuckles white. She turned around to follow the woman out to where she had found the dog. “We should leave soon,” she said as she watched the dog. She held the bat above her head, the smell of blood filled her nose. It no longer made her queasy. She was used to being painted rouge. “I’ll be back,” she said again as she pulled gloves-- forgotten due to the appearance of her company.

Zinnia first worked in identifying all paperwork pertaining to the dog. Bought from the pound a two or year back in a city over. That was good. She shoved it into the inner pocket of her jacket. She moved throughout the rooms and began to tip over items that she thought somebody would search through in order to find their prize. She had done this enough times now, it wasn’t new, but the addition of the blonde-- that was what had caught her off guard. It might be easier, she thought to herself as she shoved a wad of 100$ bills into the same inner pocket of her jacket. Once she was done, she returned to the blonde and the dog. “We’ll take him to my clinic,” She said as she looked down. “I’ll find out if he’s chipped. If he is, we’ll remove it. If there are any issues, it’s safe to assume he wandered out the front door that was left open.” She looked towards the room where their victim lay.

Alcher didn’t wait to see how the dark-haired woman finished the man off. She simply revelled in the gurgling sound of his death as she made her way through the house and to the back room the dog was locked in. In a dark room and a cage much too small for him sat the mutt. Alcher could not entirely discern his breed, there were too many cousins to count-- but the look on his face, the whine in his throat-- that was familiar. She unlocked the cage quickly, watching his ears go back. “Shhhh,” she cooed, holding out her hand, bending down to his level. She planted herself on all fours, and let him sniff her hand. Her smell was familiar to him. He could smell the wolf on her. As he went to move forward, Alcher watched his hobble. The leg was broken. Her anger returned, but she pushed it away, remembering that his abuser was dead and gone now. Now, he would be her responsibility.

Finally, the other woman returned. She looked cleaner than before, she had collected something, but Alcher did not care. She kneeled and scooped the dog into her arms, standing with him. His whole body shook. “Clinic?” she asked, tilting her head. It was best to not question her companion right now, but if this was some trick, Alcher wasn’t sure she could escape while also helping this poor creature. So, she would have to trust, and hope. If it came down to it, she would have to leave her cousin and come for him another day. She would not abandon him. Grip tightening, she nodded. “Lead the way,” she nodded, licking the blood that trickled onto her lips. She only half wished she could’ve stayed to enjoy this man as a meal, but his blood would’ve been foul, like dirt or tar. When the other woman moved, Alcher followed after her. Sometimes there were more important things than a meal.

“I’m a veterinarian,” Zinnia said as she looked over the dog, a careful touch to the dog’s obviously broken leg. It was worse than she had seen it earlier. Anger surged in her once more, but there was little to be done now, the man was already dead. She drew back her hand and looked up to meet the woman’s eyes before nodding. She turned on her heel, careful as she walked out of the house. She approached where they had both come from. Luckily, it didn’t seem as though there was mud, just grass. She swiped the side of her foot against what dirt there was and smeared their footprints. Somehow, it didn’t seem as though either of them had gotten blood on their shoes. Lucky. There were a lot more things to worry about with the addition of company, she thought. It made her nervous.

“Be right back,” Zinnia said as she disappeared into the house once more, careful to take account of any footprints that might’ve been left behind. Just in case, she thought. She wouldn’t let tonight ruin her life. If she did get caught, she’d leave, it’d be easy. She had started over plenty of times. It was nothing new to her. Once she confirmed that they were in the clear, she returned to the blonde. “We’re covered in blood. We need to clean off before we try to go into town. I parked my car on the other side of the woods, through there.” She pointed past the field. “There’s a stream on the way. We can clean off there.” she said as she moved towards the area in which she had motioned towards. “Once we get to the clinic, we’ll discuss what needs to be done from there.”

Of all the human professions, a veterinarian was one of the more noble ones. Using human hands, human techniques to heal animals. Alcher was mildly pleased with this development. Back in Poland, her pack knew a veterinarian who would help them in times of need and healing. He was human, but his smile was always warm and he always treated them with kindness. Sometimes, humans had purpose outside of being prey. She wondered what her father would have thought of it, though, as she waited for her companion to return from inside the house once more. Alcher was used to making scenes look like animal attacks. Leaving things behind like tracks and blood, then, didn’t matter. Police could test it all they wanted, she wasn’t in any system, and her blood would turn up more animal than human.

When she returned, Alcher still held onto the dog as if she were its only lifeline. It had stopped shaking, its head resting on her shoulder, and she looked across at the other woman. “You are thorough,” she said as she followed in the direction she’d pointed. “You have done this before, then?” But even if she didn’t answer the question, Alcher remained quiet as they made their way through the trees, careful not to leave a trail-- that much, Alcher was good at. Leave no trace. They cleaned themselves in the river and Alcher let her companion clean the dog as she held him in place, and then they set off back to her car, and ultimately, her clinic. It smelled stale inside, so sterile. The other woman’s scent was easier to parse out here, though, and Alcher watched her carefully. “You are not human,” she finally relented, “usually I can figure it out, but your smell...I can’t place it.”

“I’ve done it, yes.” Zinnia held onto the bat tightly. She would dispose of it later, throw it into her fireplace. She recalled the bags in her trunk. The woman was correct. She was thorough. The dog seemed to have calmed down considerably, but Zinnia was still worried for its leg. They ventured through the woods, the stream easily washed away the traces of blood that had been left on them from the man. It was quiet, and Zinnia was thankful. She enjoyed silence, and it was reassuring to her that there hadn’t been many questions. At least, there hadn’t been until they were in her clinic.

Zinnia looked over the dog’s leg. There was certainly a break, but Zinnia could tell it would heal in place. She would need to cast it, of course. Unless she were to heal it. She worked quietly until she decided to answer the woman’s comment, “you’re right.” She looked up to meet her gaze. “You aren’t either, then,” she confirmed. She resorted to scratching the dog behind his ears as he laid on the table. Zinnia knew about other creatures-- some like her, some unlike her. She wasn’t stupid. She had been around long enough to tell the difference between humans and not humans. “What would you guess?” Zinnia asked as she looked back down to the dog. Silently, she decided she would heal the dog’s broken leg after the blonde left.

“I am not,” Alcher confirmed easily. For whatever reason, she felt the confession was okay for this woman. She was not human, and that always made it infinitely better. Not hunter, either. Gods, not even close. But, then, what? Alcher was not wise to the many different creatures of the supernatural world, they were unimportant to her father and her pack. But she had been taught of other shapeshifters. Perhaps this woman was one of those? She did not smell of sweat and musk like the fae Alcher had met here, but whatever she was, Alcher could not quite place it. “I can not give much of a guess,” she said finally, her eyes glued to the dog on the table, “only that you are not human and perhaps part animal, like me.” She bent down so that she was eye level with the dog now, knees pressed against cold, linoleum flooring. Reached out a soft hand to brush through his thick, matted hair. A softness that was not present at the house took over her. “Your smell is wholly unfamiliar and yet so...familiar,” she murmured, resting her chin on the table as she continued to pet the dog. “If you do not wish to say, that is your prerogative. I trust you’ll keep my secret, however.” Finally looked away and up at her dark haired companion. “But I would at least like your name.”

“You wouldn’t be wrong,” Zinnia said with a polite smile. Unless where were in her fox form, she wouldn’t be able to discern exactly what this woman was. She decided early on it was none of her business. They had worked together to put a man who did not deserve life down, and that was enough for her. She had always respected others like her far more than anything else, and she was showing her respect by not asking questions. Though, it didn’t seem as though this woman was at all content with not knowing. Zinnia looked down at the splint she had set the dog’s leg in and tilted her head to the side. “We think of ourselves as more than that, I think.” Truthfully, she couldn’t remember much of her past, or what she had been taught to think of herself as. She knew that she was something close to the sun and sky, the moon and stars-- she was holy, yet she was not. “But… when it comes down to it, you would be correct.” Zinnia shifted her gaze back to the woman. “I wouldn’t divulge your existence to anyone, you don’t need to worry.” She gripped the edges of the table as she looked at the blonde. “My name?” She let out a laugh, “of course.” She didn’t bother to extend her hand in greeting-- it was a human formality. Neither of them were of such lineage. “Zinnia. Zinnia Rhee. You are?” She asked with a tilt of her head.

“We would have similar thoughts, then,” Alcher said, finally standing back up, but staying close to the tired pup on the table. His eyes were beginning to droop, and his breathing was steady, though a few low whines did still escape his throat. Alcher looked the other woman in the eyes-- a sign of respect, her father had taught her-- and gave a nod. “Not human, not animal. Something...more. Better.” She traced her fingers along the cool surface of the table before bringing it up to her hip to rest. “Thank you,” she said when she came to a stop in front of the other woman. Her laugh bounced off the walls like a windchime. Her dismissal of human rituals made Alcher smile. “Zinnia,” she repeated, “I am Alcher. Alcher Krieg.” Kept her steady gaze on Zinnia for a moment, before relenting it and looking back at the dog. “I have not met many others in this town who are so...similar to myself,” she said finally, running her hand softly over the dog’s back. “I wish to stay with him,” she instructed, and it wasn’t a question, “I want him to know he’s not alone anymore.”

Zinnia knew that there was no reason to withhold her name. If the woman looked anywhere, she’d see it. There was a common ground that the two of them now tread upon, and Zinnia felt respect seep into her smile as she looked at the blonde. “Alcher,” she sounded the name out. “It’s nice to meet you.” It might have been odd to anyone that they hadn’t spoken their names until after their combined efforts to murder a man (rightfully so). Though, would anybody else see what they did as just? She didn’t think so. Zinnia matched Alcher’s gaze as she looked back down at the dog. “I have to say that I haven’t either.” The majority of whom Zinnia had come across, they were different than her-- they were… grander, more frightening. She liked to steer clear of them. She would make her messes and clean them up quietly, not interfere, continuing her work as she had done for the past 120 years. “I’ll stay here with him,” she replied slowly, “I know that you want to stay with him, but--” She smoothed her hand over the dog’s side. His tail picked up and began to wag ever so slightly. She had done enough revealing for tonight. She didn’t want to heal in front of Alcher, too. “I have a cot that I sleep on when animals come in badly injured, just to monitor them. If you really do not want to leave, I can offer that to you, but I think it’s best if you leave and come back tomorrow.” She eyed the woman. “Do you want to take him home with you? After?” The process in which she typically put those looking to adopt any of her rescues under was a rigorous one, and Alcher underwent the questions. However, Zinnia knew that she could trust her to take care of this dog-- she looked at it as if it mattered more than herself.

“I want to stay,” Alcher repeated firmly, but not demandingly. Not angrily. Just firm. Steady in her words. If she went home, she would just spend the night worrying about the dog. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her newfound companion, but Alcher was hardwired to care for those who could not protect themselves. She was supposed to be the head of the family, leader of the pack, back when she still had a family to call her own. Now, this was all she had. Gathering up strays and holding them together for as long as she could before they figured out how to do it themselves and she could move on. This one, however, needed her more than the others. Alcher had never had a dog before, though many had followed her around from place to place. In Canada, they ran free with the farm dogs sometimes, or the loose strays on the streets. She would bring them food and offer them safety, but she’d never had one by her side. Something, however, about this one, told her it would be different. With a real home to live in and a roof over her head, keeping him as her own was much more doable. “I think I would like that,” she said to Zinnia finally, looking at her with gentle eyes again. “Thank you.” Whatever morally obtrusive act they’d just done didn’t matter to her. This dog was safe now, and it was because of her companion that he was. “For what it might be worth, I am glad I ran into you tonight.”

Zinnia observed Alcher silently for a moment. She had seen that look. She had given that exact same look, and to plenty of people. All of which were a part of her past, long gone, and most nights, forgotten about. “Very well then,” she said after a moment. She couldn’t argue against the woman, she had proven that she was more than capable of being trusted. Still, Zinnia knew what she was doing was slightly out of character, but there was something about this woman that struck a familiar cord with her. “Don’t mention it,” Zinnia said with a smile before she removed herself from Alcher’s and the dog’s space. She moved towards the door before stopping at Alcher’s words. “Me too.” She wasn’t sure how glad she was, but there was a part of her that was. It might’ve been miniscule, but Zinnia did find it cohesive, the way that they had moved together, the way that they knew what the other wanted without so much as a word. Zinnia had been on her own for so long, bringing justice to somebody who deserved to rot, that she had forgotten what that could look like on somebody else. “I’ll get your cot ready. Then we can move him into there.” There was a bed set up as well for the dog-- any dog, really, that needed overnight care. She would hopefully gain a moment alone with the dog to heal the hardest part of the break, that way it could have a peaceful sleep without the pain. After she returned to the two of them from placing a fresh pillow and blanket onto the makeshift bed, she motioned for the woman to follow her. “The bathroom is just inside of there, if you wanted to clean up more.” Zinnia motioned down the hallway as she helped situate the dog onto the bed.

Alcher watched her go, before kneeling next to the pup again. His fur was so soft. It reminded her of her youngest brother’s fur. Sometimes, they would take turns being wolf and being human, resting on each other, telling each other what colors they thought they were-- a downside to being color blind-- and how soft their fur was. She shifted enough to lay her head just barely against the dog’s chest and listen to his breaths. She hadn’t cried in years, perhaps even a decade, but a tear wet her eye at the soft, soothing sound of his even breaths. No rattle, no shake. Just like when she’d lay on her brother and hear his heart and his lungs and know he was so alive. She made sure her eyes were dry before Zinnia returned, nodding gratefully to her as she followed, helping carry the dog along. “You really care for these animals, don’t you?” she asked as she looked at the small bed beside the cot. “I wish more of us were like you,” she murmured, before looking to the bathroom. Gave her once last look before heading in, stripping her dirty clothes off to clean them and wash the skin underneath. The pack, she’d always been taught, came first. The pack was only wolves. But over the years, perhaps Alcher had come to know another truth-- the pack was who you could find loyalty in. The pack was who you could put trust in. Perhaps she’d found more than one candidate tonight. When she came back out, she was fresh and bathed. “Will you be staying as well?”

“I do,” Zinnia confirmed. She cared more for them than herself at certain points, she thought. She could consider this to be one of those times. Risking it to save an animal in need. Who else would do it? Though, she supposed there were more than just her, as one of those individuals were standing in front of her now. The comment brought a small smile to Zinnia’s lips. She didn’t do what she did for praise. She did what she did was because it wasn’t only what she thought was right, it was because it was right. It had to be. If it weren’t, then she wouldn’t have years behind her, creatures of all sorts saved from paths that would’ve led to their demise. She hated the idea of standing idly by and letting something suffer, especially when she was capable of putting an end to said suffering. Zinnia watched as Alcher left for the bathroom. She moved quickly and took the dog’s leg into her hand gingerly. It only took a moment to heal it to the point of being nothing more than a sprain, something that would heal within a week. The dog’s tail wagged and she reached out to pat the top of his head, giving him a scratch behind the ears once again. Hopefully Alcher wasn’t familiar with bone breaks. If she was, well, then Zinnia would deal with that then. Zinnia busied herself with ensuring that the bedding was comfortable enough for the dog before taking the paperwork out of her blood stained jacket. It was a wonder that a man who treated a creature like that would hold onto such important details. After confirming that the dog had no known allergies from a vet visit in a few towns over, she dished out some of the finest kibble they had on hand and looked up at Alcher as she reappeared in the room. “I don’t need to if you don’t feel comfortable with it. I have a separate couch in my office.” She smoothed her hand over the top of the dog’s head as he ate up his kibble from the dish.

It was an instant relief to see the dog up and eating, even if Alcher was sure moments ago that his leg was injured gravely. She came over to the other two and sat on the cot, reaching out to pat his head once again, as he scarfed up the food. “Bit skinny, isn’t he?” she said, running a hand along his back. “You’ll never go hungry again, cousin,” she murmured to him, letting her hand stay on his back momentarily. When she looked back up at Zinnia, she smiled, softly, perhaps a bit tired. In human years, she was young. In those who lived centuries, she was nothing but a child. But in the hard years she spent breaking and bending her bones, stretching sinew and muscle to change, she was old beyond her years. All the wiser for it. “It is your clinic,” she answered after a moment, “you can stay.” The dog gave a small, happy whine and licked Alcher’s hand. “I think he might prefer it if you did, too, anyway.”

“He looks like he’s getting better already,” Zinnia commented. She was a great liar-- had perfected it over the years. “With the right care, he’ll be back up to his rightful self.” Zinnia smiled down at the dog as she looked to Alcher. So she had been right, Alcher was a wolf. There was no unease, no animosity. They were close enough, at least when it came down to things. “Thank you for your permission,” Zinnia laughed as she moved towards the door. “My office is just around the corner. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to come in.” She made sure to take the dog’s paperwork with her. She’d get rid of it, claim him as a stray, and once Alcher adopted him, all would be right for him. “Sleep well.” She left through the door and into her office, curious at what this new person in her life would turn out to be.

#para: say your prey-ers #para: alcher #chatzy #death tw #animal abuse tw #gore tw #torture tw

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wiz-witch · 4 years

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DuckTales 2k17 3x03: Double O Duck In You Only Crash Twice

"The Lost Harp of Mervana!" So fun fact: all I know about James Bond is from the Mythbusters episode, that Jimmy Neutron special, and Goldmember. And I haven’t seen either of those in over a decade. So let’s see how many references fly over my head.

Also this is my second viewing but I’m going to try to keep my commentary as if this is my first

“Dew-ble O Duck” Dewey, sweetie, I will pay you to stop

Wait her name is Red Feather? Boo

Obviously evil guy is obviously evil

“What are you doing?” Being a theater kid with middle child syndrome

...Wait, Ben can sing??

Okay, that was impressive

Yay foreshadowing

Dewey: “Oh fuck, he’s messing up, this was a bad plan”

Daw, Dewey calls him LP

Also I cannot get over the fact the glasses they were wearing in the released screenshots were VR glasses

Hey, it’s the Phantom Blot! I can’t wait until you do something cool this season

My favorite House of Mouse shorts were the ones with him (and one where Von Drake tried to take Mickey’s heart. Yup, the show had more influence on Epic Mickey than causing the company to get Oswald back)

Aw, he sad :(

“Am I a joke to you, lad?”

“Uncle McDee”?? :D :D :D

Webby is a bro, and Scrooge is everyone’s uncle

Ball pits are terrifying, and this just proves it

I love how Heron’s welding mask is built to compensate for her mask. It makes her look like a plague doctor

Yes, intruders in the very public Chuck E Cheese knock off. Geeze, got Magica working there, got Phantom Blot as the mascot, got a FOWL lair underneath... Frank? Why is there so much evil in the Chuck E Chee--oh, wait, never mind

Are we ever going to get the full intro with Della?

Yeah, his kids come here all the time, why are you surprised at this?

He’s asking the important questions

She didn’t want to answer because she made it

I love Whack a Mole. I had a home version even

That is such a mood. I hate being in public.

...Ouch. Those things are heavy

...That’s all.

That legitimately looked like something out of the Carmen Sandiego choose your own adventure

Wait, how did they even know the passcode in the first place? It’s not like they were given a briefing or anything

...what.

Dewey has the brain cell at the table

jlkajlkdajlkdsj SOMEONE PLEASE GET ME A REACTION GIF OF DEWEY SILENTLY GOING ‘WHAT?’ WHILE WATCHING THIS DISASTER

I love the cutting between the game and reality. I also love how Steelbeak felt the need to put on the glasses to beat them up

Webby, that is not how you hold a skee ball

Himbo versus... Is there a term for a himbo who’s an ass? Is it just “attractive idiot”?

...Did I just imply that Steelbeak is attractive? Ew

Webby was right, it is a trap!

Okay, as someone who’s been hit in the face a lot and wears glasses, those glasses should’ve broken from that

Oh my gods...

Aw, sad baby

Ooh, are these the guys I have beat up Huey in my FOWL fics?

Did Steelbeak spend too much time with Quackerjack or something?

...Okay, part of me is actually highly disturbed at the fact Steelbeak changed their clothes while they were unconscious

Ch-Ch-Ch-Chip and Dale! Rescue Rangers...

they play the f*cking theme song...

Daw, he helped them, and they helped in return

Oh snap

Webby is DoneTM

“This department has worked 322 days without an accident” I feel like that’s a facility record. Would be at my work

.......what.

I love how he didn’t know what the device did and knew it was a game and still sacrificed himself for Dewey. That’s adorable

Did you guys really get multiple lives in that game? Because it seemed kinda insta-lose

Also, are the glasses currently off or are they still seeing things differently than we are?

Oh, I think this is a direct Bond reference--it looks like something from Jet Fusion

Why is he British?

...Please give us our himbo back. Please. I will pay money for that.

Aw, he calls him Dewford now. I do not like this, please make it stop.

...was that English?

Me either

“Oh heavens, you don’t want them to think you don’t know what you’re doing” My constant monologue at work

that was epic

Why is he still wearing the glasses?

“They’re back?” Okay, those two words bring a lot of questions I want answers to

Huh. Guess I wrote the wrong triplet getting kidnapped by FOWL

#priorities

Scrooge... Sweetie...

I love how Webby keeps wanting to kill Funzos employees... Oh, what if all of them secretly are part of FOWL?

...Except Magica. Maybe she was hired so they could see if she was FOWL material

Oh, I wanna break that innocence so much...

....... [slams head on desk]

Okay, how could Launchpad hear Dewey clear as day, but Dewey can’t hear anything Launchpad is saying?

Aw, that fear on Dewey’s face when Launchpad crashed... Oh, what if unconsciously Dewey knows this is real now but hasn’t quite consciously processed that?

He’s Launchpad McQuack, that’s how.

Dewey is Done with this guy and is showing signs of being like his brother

Well that’s unnecessarily badass

How can you be so DoneTM when being tied up like that. Also why is he tied up up there

Boo, bad pun

No, “Me” was correct there

I’m sorry, is that just going to become their thing? Just casually coming into a scene to help rescue the Ducks and then leaving?

...Oh you are not doing this.

We were robbed of a hug

Okay, the subtitles say this is Dewey singing, but it doesn’t quite sound like his voice while his song earlier did. WTF

"Stop the evil conspiracy out to get us.” Hey, Launchpad, before you do this, PLEASE TELL HIM ABOUT FOWL SO SOMEONE KNOWS

Launchpad has ADHD and RSD

That was adorable. Dewey is a good kid. Reminds me of half my cousins, but a good kid

...Wait, wasn’t that shot in the original season 3 promo?

Dewey, why did you jump, that was really unnecessary

Well, there’s that hug I wanted

...what.

Because of a joke from a friend, I’m mentally retconning that line into “Huey’s going to freak when I tell him that I--we beat the game.”

Seriously, I love how it took him not being in an episode to not have a mild breakdown

I hate how realistic that is

Let’s see, one ball got him 2 tickets, and one quarter gave him 5 balls...so one quarter equals 10 tickets, which means a dollar equals 40 tickets... That comes out to 75 grand. Scrooge, wtf

I love how Dewey clearly is trying not to crack up

I’m sorry. I cannot get over the subtitles calling him “Suave-Pad”. Who on the crew came up with that.

Ooh, are they going to learn?

...I hate everything.

Scrooge’s reaction is mine

Well, that explains a lot

Okay, if she specializes in rays but Bradford doesn’t want more rays... Imagine them looking for fresh brain...

Shut up, I like hurting Huey, let me do so in peace until canon gives me the conspiracy theorist Huey hunting down FOWL I was promised

...Okay, that is the most terrifying thing this episode.

Me picking up pretty much anything in the house for the first four years of my sister’s life

So what’s next week? ["The Lost Harp of Mervana!"] ...ARNY MAERMADIDS NEAZXT WEK!

#ducktales 2017 #ducktales season 3 #wiz-witch commentary

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fly-pow-bye · 4 years

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DuckTales 2017 - “Double-O-Duck in You Only Crash Twice!”

Story by: Francisco Angones, Madison Bateman, Colleen Evanson, Christian Magalhaes, Bob Snow

Written by: Christian Magalhaes

Storyboard by: Sam King, Kathryn Marusik, Rachel Paek, Stephan Park

Directed by: Jason Zurek

"My name is Pad. Launchpad. McQuack. My name is Launchpad McQuack."

The episode seemingly begins in medias res, as Launchpad is infiltrating a casino. He has on some spy glasses, as he has become Double-O-Duck, super spy. He gets a call from Dew-ble-O-Duck, because Dewey Duck cannot even function if he doesn't choose an alias without the word "dew" in it, letting him know the secret code he needs to tell Enemy Agent Red Feather.

Dew-ble-O-Duck: Pastrami on rye, hold the mustard!

Double-O-Duck: Mmmm, yummy!

We can tell already that Launchpad is more Maxwell Smart than James Bond. Would anyone be surprised if he wasn’t?

As Dew-ble-O-Duck, also wearing cool glasses, distracts everyone in the room with a song fitting for this James Bond parody, Launchpad, even with his lack of any kind of intellect, manages to spot Agent Red Feather. She literally has red feathers. Unfortunately, he didn't exactly remember what tasty item he was supposed to use as a secret code.

Red Feather: Can I help you?

Launchpad: Ham and cheese!

Alas, Enemy Agent Red Feather is not exactly a fan of that smart refrigerator scene from Duncanville. She gasses Double-O-Duck before Launchpad could suggest chocolate pudding or french fries, giving a one-liner about how the kitchen is closed. It's like one of those Sierra adventure games, though they end up referencing something more modern.

YOU DIED

Yes, like Dark Souls, though they use a generic retro game losing a life sound. Even when shows involve video games with cutting edge technology, parents might not get that it's a video game if it isn't bleep bloop bleep bloop.

The entire last scene was just a new and sophisticated augmented reality game at Funso's Fun Zone: Double-O-Duck, a reference to a DuckTales '87 episode where Launchpad had to impersonate a super spy that happened to look just like him. It's a neat reference; the game even features OddDuck, the villain of the week of that episode, as an enemy.

Webby and Scrooge are at Funso's as well, though Scrooge does not appear to be interested in anything around him, never mind a room with a fake adventure in it. In an attempt to borrow money from Scrooge, Dewey tries to convince him that the game is cool, because one could use the power of virtual reality to go on an amazing adventure.

Scrooge's expression says it all; he doesn't even need to say anything to that.

Needless to say, Dewey only has one more chance to beat that Casino Royale, as that chance will be the last his allowance could afford. He also knows that he can only play this with Launchpad, because "they're a team"! Launchpad reluctantly agrees, using the famous last words of anyone before something goes terribly wrong: "what could possibly go wrong?" We then zoom into the ball pit, where we find a hidden base owned by F.O.W.L.

Yes, this is the beginning of this season's F.O.W.L. plotline that was teased at the end of Season 2. DuckTales 2017's version of Darkwing Duck's rogues' gallery is led by Bradford Buzzard, originally of Scrooge's Board of Directors before he decided to call it quits after Louie used their funding to bring back his favorite TV show. It's a long and, to be honest, kind of eh story. Now, he leads many of the villains that appeared in previous episodes, and he has made a new base.

Alongside the also named after her feather color Black Heron is Steelbeak, who comments that he wanted the base built on a sattel-lighthouse to nobody's approval. This continues the trend of James Bond references, as he is the Jaws parody from Darkwing Duck. Steelbeak is not exactly the brightest bulb at F.O.W.L., but he is completely confident and gets really offended at the accusation that he is stupid. From what I've heard, he wasn't meant to be any denser than the other villains in the original Darkwing Duck, but for the sake of giving Launchpad an evil counterpart, it works well with this plot.

Black Heron is taking the Gyro Gearloose role here, as she is working on the Intelliray, powered by a diamond from the F.O.W.L. archives. With a little more work, this ray can be used to make Scrooge dumber than the dummies! Honestly one doesn't even need any kind of ray for that to happen; seems like all you need to do is steal a couple coins from him for that.

How would she know this ray even works? Simple, she used it on a lab rat.

Not just any lab rat, either, but they turn this ordinary rat into this rather intelligent rodent that is more anthropomorphic. In fact, one may recognize this rodent from a different show from the Disney Afternoon. There's a funny story about this, actually.

Of course, this is the opposite effect of what Black Heron wanted, and she needs to work on the ray some more to make the Intelliray that makes dumb rats smart make smart ducks dumb. Steelbeak doesn't seem to get any of this, and is way more focused on how that rat managed to make clothing for herself. That's actually not a bad question, though not one relevant to the situation. There's a lot of interactions with the bright heron and the not-too-bright rooster, and it builds throughout the episode.

In order for any of those evil plans to happen, they need to get Scrooge and his family out of Funso's. It doesn't seem like it really matters, as nobody, not even the adventurer of adventurers, suspects that this place they're under is suspicious, but that was the Buzzard's orders. Bradford Buzzard may not be a bright bulb either; in the very first episode, he wanted to turn off the magical barrier that kept the Bombie from continuing his unending journey to kill his boss...actually, that makes a lot of sense now. Black Heron orders Steelbeak to get the Scrooge family out without Scrooge getting suspicious about this new conspiracy against him.

That won't be too difficult, as Scrooge has different plans than trying to figure out if there's a conspiracy against him. There's a B plot about Scrooge getting convinced to go into the arcade section and getting addicted to Skee-Ball. Webby even calls it Skee-Ball, which is a trademarked term for the rolling ball game, even though the game itself calls it "Prospector Pete's Goldrush Bonanza!" They could have avoided any trademark issues, but they went with the brand name anyway. Well, if Disney could pay for DJ Khaled, anything is possible.

Again, this is a B-plot where there isn't that much to it, though I can't say I wasn't entertained by Scrooge taking this Gold Rush as an adventure and treating the tickets it spits out as actual gold. There is also a point to this: he becomes so addicted, that, say, if a kid and a bumbling idiot get kidnapped by a group with a vast conspiracy against Clan McDuck, he wouldn't know because his quest for tickets is the only thing on his mind.

Totally not speaking of which, Dewey and Launchpad play their last game of Double-O-Duck, and they do manage to get past the "secret code" part by the way of Dewey taking over for him. They get to the "win the card game" part, except the usual opponent has been replaced by some special boss. At least, that's what they assume. He's also wearing the glasses, but neither of them take that as a clue that this person may be a not-so-fellow player.

They have to play a game of baccarat chemin de fer, and Launchpad pretends to know what any of those words mean. The good news for him is that it was gibberish to Steelbeak, too. as both of them end up just saying random card terms while slamming the cards down, convincing each other that they got the upper hand. This all ends up leading to Steelbeak changing the game to 52 Teeth Pickup. That, of course, means a fight scene.

During this fight scene, we get a shot of what is happening in the real world, where we see the carnage this unscripted fight scene is causing. Why are there little kids in the middle of the AR room, clearly not playing the game judging by their lack of glasses? We see a little bit of this earlier, too, where Dewey takes off his glasses to reveal that one of the characters was just the Funso's mascot standing in the middle of the room. There is at least one enemy to fight in the game even if it was played as intended; I can imagine someone accidentally walloping a real person while fighting the fake one. Maybe I shouldn't think about this too hard.

If I were to nitpick some more, one of the hits randomly has a hit flash, even though there's none in the other punches. There was nothing different about that hit; I could understand using a hit flash if Steelbeak actually hit someone with his namesake, but it was just another punch. Was the censors just not happy with that particular one, but the other punches were okay?

The fight does go outside the AR room, leading them to the restaurant area where confused onlookers are looking at these weird glasses-wearing people fight as if they were special agents. I do like this shot where we see Steelbeak punch Dew-ble-O-Duck and Double-O-Duck out of a window in the AR world, and then it cuts to the real world, where the pool this lead to was actually the ball pit. The same ball pit they zoomed into to reveal the new F.O.W.L. Lair, in fact!

When Double-O-Duck and Dew...alright, I'm getting tired of calling them that already even if that's the roles they were given. When Launchpad and Dewey wake up, they're locked in a glass cell. That could mean only one thing: they finally beat the casino level! This leads to an interesting dynamic: they think they're still in a video game, despite being in the very real F.O.W.L. lair. This is good for the plot, as we'll soon see.

Meanwhile, we see that Black Heron managed to get the ray to work as it should, making the minions so dumb, they think a generic puzzle cube, they didn't want to tread on Mr. Rubik's toes even if Bay Tek was fine, is food. I mention this because it's a running gag.

Back to the cells, we see that all the other smartened up lab animals, including that rat from before, another much larger rat, a housefly, and two chipmunks, decide to help this large duck out of this situation. Alright, I'll drop the act: these are the Rescue Rangers. They're not named, but they're the Rescue Rangers; they're even constantly followed by an instrumental of their theme song.

There is an interesting behind-the-scenes story here: alongside the mascot of the biggest entertainment corporation in the world, the Rescue Rangers were supposed to be off-limits to DuckTales 2017 for various reasons. They were originally just going to have the small Gadget reference, referring to her only as "the intelligent rodent", but they kept building and building it to the point where the rest of the Rescue Rangers made it in, too. Once the executives caught on to the scheme, they decided to just allow it.

What possibly helps this is that we never focus on them. For starters, we never get to hear them talk. The audience always sees their scenes from the duck's point of view, and, in the rules of the Rescue Rangers, humans, or ducks in this case, can't communicate with rodents even if they are smart. This is not to say they never do anything major in the plot; it's thanks to them that that all important "cell release" button was pushed, freeing Launchpad and Dewey and getting them to "the next level". Dewey does seem to think that Launchpad came up with the solution to teach a mouse to fly a plane, and Launchpad just goes with it. It may not be out of malice, it's probably just because he's Launchpad.

That next level? Find the secret weapon!

Those wielders of the secret weapon are not exactly in good terms with each other at this point. Black Heron isn't too happy that Steelbeak interpreted getting rid of Scrooge's family is to get two of his family members and lock them up right in F.O.W.L.'s headquarters. This is because Black Heron knows that this is a perfect way to lead Scrooge McDuck right to them, as Scrooge would eventually figure out they're missing and figure out exactly where they went. She is that genre savvy.

Not savvy to anything is Steelbeak, and after Black Heron decides to insult him again and again for his mistake, he finally has enough and snatches the Intelliray right out of her hands, and shoots her with it. That takes out Black Heron out of the whole episode, actually, as the most that happens with her after this is that, when Dewey and Launchpad get to the room she's in, Dewey rightfully assumes the bad guy who is trying to figure out how her robot arm works is way too easy for the mission right after the moon logic puzzle of teaching rats to fly planes. How unbalanced!

Enter Steelbeak and his army of generic puzzle cube-gnawers, armed with the Intelliray and a bunch of one-liners that Dewey wants him to skip. I debated with myself on whether or not him not saying "where's the 'skip dialogue' button" was a missed opportunity or not. Another small fight happens, this time with no random hit flashes. With one hit, Steelbeak drops the Intelliray to the ground.

He then picks it up and attempts to shoot Dewey with it, Launchpad getting in the way with the classic "take the bullet for him" trope. Dewey does the "big no" trope, only to tell him that this must have been his last life. Wait, there were no lives before, the video game seemed to be "you died, game over" in the first scene. Dewey can't be consistent with what video game he was playing!

But wait, if all hope is lost, why is the ray blue? Well, it appears that Steelbeak forgot to check if that gun was set to "make smart rat dumb", or "make dumb rat braindead" in this case. Instead, we get a James Bond reference I actually recognize.

(special thanks to martosi231234 for this GIF)

Okay, maybe I should have made this a GIF; they totally do the James Bond intro parody here, complete with a maybe too obvious parody of the "dah dah" part of the James Bond theme. No shooting the screen, though; TV-Y7 does have its limits.

Inner Double-O-Duck: I'll take it from here, chum.

This inner Double-O-Duck shows up a couple times, mostly acting as his new intelligent guardian angel. Dressing up as one of the minions, thanks to knocking one out earlier, he sneaks into a large computer room and deals with the minions by telling them to go to Sector 13. They don't know what that means, but with his newfound intellect, Launchpad persuades them to go there anyway.

It's here where Launchpad finds out everything about the newly revived Fiendish Organization for World Larceny's conspiracy against Mr. McD. It's also here that he finds out that Steelbeak kidnapped poor Dewford, trapping him with rope and boating him across town. Since Dewey isn't a superhero, there's no way he can just get out of the rope. Well, maybe not every superhero can get out of the rope. Oh, and yes, Intelligent Launchpad always calls Dewey Dewford, but Scrooge is still Mr. McD. That nickname is that ingrained in him.

Most importantly, he finds out he's no longer in a video game...actually, I am not sure when that was supposed to happen. We know it does happen because it comes up later in the episode. A little before this point, I was almost expecting a rather disappointing ending where it was revealed this whole episode was just the video game, but this scene proves that can't happen because the game wouldn't known about the F.O.W.L. plan.

The boat chase is on. While the new far-more-intelligent Double-O-Duck chases the bad guy, he also tries to call Mr. McD and tell him all about what he learned, potentially progressing the plot arc much too early.

Unfortunately for Launchpad and indirectly himself, Scrooge is busy counting the tickets. I can imagine not wanting to trust the ticket counters. He also questions why he can't just keep the tickets and presumably have a giant ticket bin to swim in, and Webby convinces him that the tickets expire at the end of the day. The cashier attempts to explain that isn't the case, and Webby holds up a pizza tray and shushes him. There's some really good expressions in this episode.

After Launchpad tries to let Dewey know this isn't a game, to no avail due to the loud boats, and a pretty action packed chase scene where, fitting for Launchpad, he crashes his boat and, not so fitting for the usual Launchpad, makes a makeshift water skii out of two of the boat's boards and a grappling hook, unfortunately failing to get to him, Steelbeak makes it to his destination: the sattel-lighthouse. See, everything is connected; he even got to go to his dream lair!

This reveals his ultimate plan: turning the sattel-lighthouse into a giant Intelliray, and this time, he did know to check the dial to make all of the rats and other animals in Duckberg as dumb as he is. Launchpad tries to convince Steelbeak to reconsider this plan, as this would make Duckburg so dumb that they would forget to breathe, but...

Steelbeak: That fancy speak won't work on me, Dummie-O-Duck! Hah, classic.

He makes his own fistbump jokes, he's a villain I'd love to hate. How does he get out of this situation? Well, I'll give a giant hint on that: after Launchpad gets saved, he says this.

Launchpad: Thanks for the...

(3 seconds later)

...rescue.

They might as well have put it in giant text, put fireworks around it, and have a choir sing the word "rescue". Good thing this isn't a Cartoon Network reboot. As forced as that scene was, it's still an amazing scene.

I will spoil this, though: before that previous scene happened, he did manage to activate the Intellisatellite, and it's almost about to fire. Anyone could guess that Launchpad's newfound intellect is not going to survive past this episode, and him getting in the way of a giant endumbening laser is the way to do it. And yes, I know endumbening is not a word, but I bet Steelbeak didn't know that. As the song from the first scene plays again, this time showing that it had way more meaning than it did before, Launchpad questions if this is the way to go.

Launchpad: But I can't sacrifice my intelligence! There's so much more I can accomplish! Stop the evil conspiracy out to get us! Solve world hunger! Land a plane!

Oh, his intellect is definitely not going to survive. Also, there's a more personal reason for his questioning, and it was a theme throughout the episode: Launchpad wants Dewey to see him as a competent person to look up to, and, unlike Steelbeak, he usually doesn't have the confidence that this newfound intellect gave him. This makes this a rather heartfelt scene.

Somehow, they get back to the arcade with Dewey still thinking this was the game. There is no explanation for this whatsoever, and even Launchpad questions if it was a game...wait, is this actually that "it was all a game" ending I didn't want? What happened? Why are they here now? How are they here now? What happened to Black Heron? Eh, maybe I should take Dewey's words, from a previous scene, into account.

Dewey: Why are you overthinking this?!

I will say Dewey believing this was all a video game does at least give us a high stakes F.O.W.L. plot without advancing the arc too far this early in the season. Not even Launchpad could do that, as, in the end, Launchpad is back to his old self. He completely forgot about everything he saw, so he couldn't warn Mr. McD about all the misfortune that's going to happen. I will say that I am glad to see that there is a slight hint that the events of this episode did happen, as they do return to that puzzle cube running gag. A running gag that, while not having a real payoff, does have a point to it, how wonderful!

Oh, and as for Scrooge McDuck, with all of those tickets...he only managed to get a very, very small prize. Pretty accurate to the world of redemption games, I'm afraid to say. Don't want to anger that certain powerful rat.

How does it stack up?

The AR glasses do lead to some plot holes, and a lot of the episode relies on references, but none of that ruins the episode. Even the vague ending works in the episode's favor. Hell, maybe it will be explained in the future; this is the kind of show where I can expect that. Maybe not.

With great spy action, some great one-liners, a good villain, and some fantastic cameos from a fellow Disney Afternoon staple, this is another fantastic episode.

Next, suspicious mermaids!

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