#its about the hair and the masks and the dress and the disguises

[insuke69]

What's in a name? P3

✰⁂ Hobie brown × Rich!Osborn!reader

Part I, Part II, Part III

3/3

Synopsis: Osborn is almost a disgusting name because of the messed up things it has and the dirty money that holds it up by threads. And here is the child that sneaks out one night and meets a punk that goes directly against her father.

✩Warnings: cussing, Some angst, 'crybaby' reader, depictions of smut, ‘tantrum’

Rated 13+(??)

✰6.5k words.

⚥Afab/fem reader

____________________

The last month has been.. Blissful.

Relaxing and calm for you, Hobie making you feel things you’ve never experienced with his tongue, hands, and words.

Something about him as the punk he is almost leveled out your expensive life, humble houseboat compared to your marble mansion. Some nights were spent planning, some were small date-like hangouts, some were spent with his lips locked in yours and his tongue teaching you how kissing should feel.

But you didn’t realize how little he mentioned or even acknowledged (y/n) in your presence. You didn’t know if he was fully alright with everything that went down between you two though. He would stop wearing his spiderpunk mask around you and you’d stop wearing your balaclava which probably- or hopefully meant he still trusted you.

You even started taking more money from your dad and buying even more things to donate with less fear of being caught, you and Hobie would go to large corporations disguised as a cute couple that definitely wouldn’t pocket a particularly enticing trinket.

You kind of feel like robin hood, but instead of stealing actual gold and riches, you spend what's given to you for different purposes, one step at a time. Hobie has shown you the differences between real and fake silver, obviously you know how to tell in your jewelry by seeing its shine, but now he’s explained the more simpler ways and reasonable prices for normal people since way back then you never had to look at the multiple thousands on a cute bracelet.

Your shoebox of polaroid pictures grew and so did your relationship with Hobie. You began learning about your own pleasure along with learning of his, what movements you can do with your tongue or hips that makes him whimper beautifully throughout the bedroom of his small houseboat.

And Hobie hasn’t hesitated with taking his pictures and tucking them into the waistband of your panties for ‘memorabilia’, So now that shoebox consisted of pictures of you and him spray painting, your masked smile posing beside another one of your fathers now vandalized buildings, and some of Hobie’s favorites.

Ones where he’s bottomed out, hips against your plush ass and his hand holding your hair in a make-shift ponytail, the other taking the picture. Another one where you’re looking up at him with your eyes doe and tongue out, his seed stained on your lips and chin. The list goes on and on about the lewd adventures you and Hobie have done. Each picture is more intimate than the last.

___________

The knock on the door makes your chest tense, immediately shoving the pictures and shoebox under your bed and leaning your hips against the mattress, looking over at the door.

Roxanne opens it and comes in with a clipboard in hand, head dipped downwards as she began rambling about another event your father is planning to host in your mansion.

“Alright so, security will be tighter but your father will be making a party to celebrate the new opening of a bank, so you’ll be wearing a mostly green dress and most of the house will be open to guests. Unlikely anyone will come to your room but the housemaid will be sure to clean everything top to bottom, left to right.”

You were practically tuning her out since she often covered this information for every event, the same information.

For every event.

The only difference was that this was going to be held at your house for the first time since your mothers funeral. It was weird but you remembered the procedures: Big guard watching your every move, random people whose gross hands you have to shake, rinse and repeat.

“So when is this thing gonna be?” You ask Roxy with a tilt of your head and sitting on the edge of your bed as she remained in her spot where she stood.

“Soon, around the twenty-second.” She answered without her gaze moving from her clipboard, her pen tapping it in a senseless rhythm which expressed her deep thoughts on the subject, Likely thinking about some things more important than your petty dress or makeup.

“That will be all. Your father will give you his black card so you could buy a dress of your liking. Special event means that-”

“I can’t risk re-wearing something I’ve worn before, yeah yeah.” You cut her off with an eye roll, knowing what she was gonna say.

Roxy raised her eyebrows at this attitude but shrugged it off, “Precisely, you’ll be sent out around the afternoon, let's say at around two-thirty.” And with that, Roxanne nodded and walked right out, leaving the door open on her way out.

You stand from your bed and shut the door, pulling out your phone to text Hobie once the click of the knob confirmed its closed position.

“Im going out later with Normans money” It felt weird to refer to your dad by his first name, but referring to him as your dad didn’t feel right either, and calling him ‘Osborn’ had too much association with you.

“K” Hobie messaged back, “what time”

“I’ll actually have to buy something. A pretty dress so do you wanna tag along for that too?” You smiled to yourself, knowing Hobie wouldn’t really want to be in a fancy dress shop and have to judge each and every dress that's even a shade of green-

“Why not”

You can feel the shrug from past the screen, his usual gesture whenever he says something like ‘why not’. And before you knew it, by the time you ran off from your secret service-like bodyguards, you spotted Hobie.

Not spiderpunk- You spotted the handsome man beneath, face covered in piercings and hair being as lawless as his other punk persona. He grins down at you and offers you his arm and with a mocking tone, says “Alrigh’ M’lady, Where we goin’ first?”

“What are you playing at, Hobie?” You ask as your head shook and your arm intertwined with his, walking down the street towards your usual dress shop you’ve gone to since you were thirteen. No other place was ‘trustworthy’ as your father put it, and you’ve never liked the hassle of exact measurements.

“Whatever could you mean, Ms Osborn?” He grinned, looking around the streets at the peoples heads turning because of some random punk star with the daughter of the richest and most powerful man in the city.

You two were in the main street where more expensive shops were, you had your dads credit card so you couldn’t spend it in the smaller businesses Hobie had shown you in his part of town because they would show up in the statements, or because they didn’t even take card. Hobie felt like a fish out of water when he was walking down these sidewalks with smooth brick tiles instead of cracked pavement for once.

“You know damn well.” You scoffed in response, “Do you seriously want to do dress shopping with me instead of.. Emily?” Your voice lowers as you mentioned your masked persona which makes Hobie chuckle and shake his head.

“Well, I wouldn’t be able to spend time with either. Plus, It doesn’ matter now, Wha’ dresses are we gettin’ you now, princess?” He teased in a lower voice with a stupid smirk as the arm that was intertwined with yours slid to your waist. You could feel your face heat up but you keep your head up and continue walking with him beside you, him walking on the part of the sidewalk closest to the road.

“Fucking hell, just.. Okay so the plan is that I’ll try on dresses and you’ll boost my ego in every one and you’ll tell me which one is the best look for me.” You told him, trying to brush off how he called you princess, how you can swear he knows what he’s doing.

He raised his eyebrows then his hands in a faux surrender gesture, “Yes ma'am.” His voice is smug and it’s as if he’s coming along to humor you.

Your eyes roll and you shake your head, walking beside him with his arm intertwined with yours in a playfully chivalrous manner, as if he wasn’t already polar opposites with you. You seem like an elegant quartz and he was a stone pulled out of a vandalized building. Your height differences making you either unfortnately shorter or him somehow taller.

“Here’s the place, just-” You began, almost getting to the dress parlor but Hobie soon pulled you into an alley right beside the building and kissed you, which made you squeak and your hands moving to his chest.

“What the fuck?!” You asked as you looked up at him and he just smugly grinned and looked down at you, his hands on your waist as you continued, “Anyone could have seen. I would be fucked if anyone saw that, neither of us have a mask and unlike you, if my reputation gets a single mark, that would get my dads attention and-”

He rolled his eyes and kissed you again, as if to stop your worries. “It’s fine, tell me: Do you ever look into alleyways when you’re shopping?” He asks rhetorically to get his point across, most people like you wouldn’t care for smaller details and excuse the alleyways whilst on their errands

“.. What if someone decided to look? We’d be screwed.” You retort, shaking your head, which made Hobie shake his head back with a chuckle.

“You’re paranoid.” He scoffed as he took your hand and brought you back out to the sidewalk and towards the shop you had mentioned.

Hobie brown will be the death of you, but spiderpunk always made you feel alive.

_________

You got the dress and Hobie let you go on your merry way before you got picked up so that you dad’s men wouldn’t see you with anyone.

The event had arrived and like you assumed, random rich womanizers with their trophy wives and laughing as if they owned the world. Well, they practically do, But there's one specific couple that makes you seeth.

Your father has always been family oriented so now that an event is at your house, your uncle and aunt will be coming over to be more heads to count at the party. There's nothing wrong with your uncle Wilson or aunt Doris on paper but it’s the kid they have that makes your blood boil.

The kid is named Elizabeth as if she were a respectable person, but she was barely a freshman in highschool who has as much as you did financially, except she wasn’t homeschooled like you were and her ego was as big as the numbers in her parents bank account. She never grew out of her brat phase and she’s more spoiled than you because if she sees someone with something she wants she asks for it tenfold.

“Oh my god! Where did you get those earrings?” She grinned as she ignored your concept of personal space and reached out to grab the shiny jewelry that hung from your ear.

You pull away from her and awkwardly smile once you avoid her touch, “Your Aunt Emily gave them to me.” You answered with almost exaggerated politeness, referring to your own mother as her aunt because there’s no way she’d remember her as your mom.

“Oh yeah! She’s dead right?” She frowned, “She can’t get me anything like that? Where did she get them? Do you know?” Her tone was laced with disappointment.

You almost froze at her words. You never minded much about who spoke about your mom but the way she said it as if she were simply talking about a show that was canceled.

“..Yeah, Last time we saw each other it was literally her memorial ceremony.” You mumbled with slight snark to which your aunt chimed in a half apology before ushering your cousin away.

“But Mom! Why does she get cool things? I wish I were homeschooled and that my daddy was the president! It’s not fair!” She whined dramatically as she threw her arms around, as if throwing a mini tantrum for her mother.

And you think that's the only time anyone has been understanding of your situation, because your aunt swatted her on the back of her head and began telling her to calm down, and that homeschooling would take away her reputation as the popular girl at school which shut Elizabeth right up.

They fade into the crowd and you stand aside, eating an appetizer of a snack before suddenly a large suited man recognized as your bodyguard approaches you and quietly says into your ear, “Have you allowed Ms. Elizabeth into your bedroom?”

When he says this you decide to play it cool and softly shake your head, placing your hand on his shoulder once he begins walking back towards the hall of your room then stopping him. Walking to your room instead, and once you were out of sight from the party, you bolted up the stairs towards the creaked open bedroom door.

You shove open the door and feel your heart drop, you knew your cousin was snooping around your room but what need did she have to look under the bed?

And in your goddamn shoebox.

“What the hell are you doing?” You yelled as you went over to her and snatched the pictures out of her hands, which she sarcastically surrendered with a dramatic gesture of her hands.

“What are you doing? Actually, who are you doing?” Elizabeth grinned as she held out another picture where it was you on top of Hobie, a loose shirt adorning your torso which luckily hid where he disappeared inside of you.

“Shut up! You’re just- you aren’t even supposed to be in here!” You snatched the picture and quickly shoved it into the shoebox, then the box under your bed.

“I was looking for any extra earrings you could give me, not like you have anyone to look good for other than that rando.” She commented with childish snark as she vaguely gestured in the direction of the intimate box and images. “I didn’t realize you had a little boy toy you’ve kept hidden, Does my uncle know?”

Your eyebrows furrow as she asks if your dad knows about him, About Hobie. You keep your mouth shut and glance away as you struggle to hold in your genuine frustration at how this is how you ended up caught.

“.. Still doesn’t explain why you’re looking under my bed for some earrings.” You change the subject off of Hobie and back to how she’s in the wrong for snooping around your bedroom in the first place.

“You still haven’t told me who this guy is! I’m guessing he’s just some booty call, not even a boyfriend to you?” Ellie said with a smirk, but more in a condescending way as if she were better than you for having some kind of relationship that wasn’t based on sex.

“He isn’t just ‘some booty call’-” You began before the teenager continued, looking over another picture.

“He’s hot though, but too many piercings. Does he have a piercing on his tongue? Can’t see your face well on this one but wow, big hands-” She teased which made you snatch the next polaroid from her hand and your cheeks flush red at what that one was this time.

It showed Hobie’s unruly hair between your thighs, which were being held tightly by his ringed hands to keep them open, his eyes straight up into the camera where you took a picture of him feasting on your core. You’re so grateful she was on the more basic side of popularity where she didn’t know punk stars, Hobie seemed like some random emo to her. Luckily.

You could see on her expression that she had a request and something to say, so you gestured your hand ironically, “Go ahead, take your time. Go ahead.” You prompted sarcastically.

“So, It would suck if your dad found out about this.” Her head tilts, “So, Just give me your earrings. Unless you want your dad finding out you have some other ‘daddy’?”

You cringe at how she referred to Hobie as your other daddy, but your stomach soon drops as you realize that she’s blackmailing you just for a pair of your moms earrings.

Dead Moms Earrings.

“You sadistic bitch!” You cursed as you got closer, about to give her a well deserved slap for her stupid actions, wanting to humble her like she deserved before she stopped you and stepped back.

“Hurt me and I’ll go announce it to the event! Imagine the headlines, ‘Norman Osborn’s daughter caught with a random guy!’, your reputation.” she said with a sarcastic gesture of her hands as she walked towards your door.

“Reputation? Fucking- fine.” You yanked her sleeve to keep her from walking out, soon moving your hands to your ears in order to take off your earrings, “I want you to just.. Take care of the earrings. Please.” You mumbled before passing her the pair of jewelry.

“Whatever.” she shrugged as she looked at the shine of the gold then shoved them in her pocket, “Thank you cousin dearest.” She playfully mocked before walking out of your room, leaving you with your own thoughts and leaving the door open.

You nearly slam the door shut then lean on it with your back, eyes quickly filling with angry tears and hands moving to grip your hair in frustration. At how easily you were manipulated, at how your cousin obviously thought little of you, how she called Hobie a random booty-call.. Familiar feelings erupted in a choked sob from your throat.

Guilt.

Rage.

Frustration.

Your fist tightened and was about to be tossed back to punch any surface you could to relieve what you could but soon you heard a twhip and a sticky white rope soon surrounded your hand and kept it from going anywhere or doing anything.

You sigh once you realize what caused it, and soon that reason walks- or drops in through your window, pulling off his Spiderpunk mask and heading over to you.

“You alrigh’?” Hobie said softly as he got the web off of you and kneeled beside you, his hand on your shoulder.

Hobie knows that when you cry it's never for no reason, He has learned about your sensitive habits but he has never seen you like this. Tearing up with anger he had only seen the night you two argued, and the second you choked another sob and your arms wrapped around him he quickly hugged you back.

You felt safe in his lanky arms, comforted and as if he could shield you from dangers or people that couldn’t ever treat you as a person. He couldn’t ever be just a booty-call because he's the only feeling of ‘home’ you’ve had since before Osborn industries became a bigger thing.

After you didn’t answer his question as if you were alright, Hobie simply held you close and cradled you like how you deserved.

Once your breathing calmed and relaxed, you soon moved your hands to cradle his face and he quickly met your gaze with his, “Was this jus’ an excuse to hug me?” Hobie joked with a chuckle to lighten your mood, soon being met with a swat to the shoulder.

“..My cousin blackmailed me into giving her some earrings, but they used to be my moms.. And she didn’t care.” You explained softly to summarize, pulling back and running a hand through your hair.

“Blackmailed? That’s.. That’s dumb, what was she using against you?” Hobie asked as he rested his hands on your waist and looked down at you.

“Your pictures.” You scoffed as your hands lowered to his chest, nodding your head towards the shoebox where the picture of Hobie with his head between your legs was faced up. You saw Hobie’s smirk adorn his lips as he looked at the polaroid and bit his lip, making you roll your eyes and softly hit his chest.

“What! What do you mean by my pictures? As far as I’m concerned, all of that was a team effort.” He cooed as his hands lowered to your hips and he pulled you closer where your body flushed against his.

Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, “You realize that I’m fucked?” You half joke, “She found our pictures, and if she blabs to anyone around here, That will spread like wildfire.”

“Yeah yeah, what if you just stopped worrying? What if I had a solution?” Hobie teased before giving you a peck on the lips.

“Hm?” You question as you kissed him back, “Well, I’ve been fixing my houseboat.. And what if we could sail away together?” Hobie responded smugly.

Your eyebrows raise and you chuckle as if he were joking but his smile remains the same and his eyes gazing into yours. “Seriously? No- I don’t.. I can’t.” you retort with an awkward chuckle, “I don’t have any money without my dad, I wouldn’t be able to contribute.”

“Don’t worry about that, We could run off- spiderpunk can protect another place and you wouldn’t be the daughter of a monster.” He said before kissing you again before you argue and respond. “Think ‘bout it.”

“Hmm.. No.”

As tempting as it was, Seriously tempting, The idea of being able to go away and get out. Be your own person and finally be independent, you couldn’t bear the idea of your dad being heartbroken that you’re gone. He’s a horrible person, a horrible man, But he’s still your father.

And a damn good one.

What he’s done is unforgivable but he always was able to put food on the table for you and never once missed the chance to tell you he loves you. When your mother died it was you and him against the world, even if he was what mostly made up the issues of said world.

Hobie’s expression was like a mixture of confusion and disappointment which makes you sigh and explain yourself with your hands soothing onto his shoulders, “Sorry, It’s just that.. I can’t leave him. He’d be alone without me, and he was already broken when his wife died and no way I’m making him go through everything and worse.”

Hobie smiled at how thoughtful you were, almost too much for your own good.

“Alrigh’, I won’t be able to live with myself if I force you to come with me anyway.” Hobie chuckled before kissing you again, with a softer peck with his lips against yours for a moment.

“Well, okay. I feel like any moment now some random lady’ll knock on your door. You go’a get back to being a princess.” Hobie teased before pulling away from you, soon heading back to the window from which he came in.

“Awh, how will I survive without my knight in shining armor?” You said sarcastically as you followed him, and with a grin he brought you close and kissed your forehead, “You’ll manage.”

And with that, he flopped out and a web shot to a nearby building where he swung.

You watch his figure disappear into the distance and sigh to yourself, taking a breath to mentally prepare yourself and going to your vanity to reapply your makeup that smudged in your earlier ‘tantrum’ as Hobie would tease.

______________

The night breezes by as you stay aside, and thank god it speeds on by as the guests fade away and thankfully all those who are left are your uncle and aunt, and their hellspawn.

Thinking they were in any other place, you go to the kitchen for a snack.

And there was your thirteenth reason.

The hellspawn of satan and the embodiment of one of the seven sins was in your kitchen, sitting on the counter munching on your chips, On your chips you specifically have been saving for a time like this when you were craving them specifically.

She looked over at you before munching loudly on the savory snack, making your blood boil as she seemed to not care she’s eating the snacks you’ve specifically had stored in another part of the kitchen. Clearly implying that they weren’t up for taking.

But before you speak, you notice her wearing the earrings you gave her, her mom obviously knew you didn’t want to give them to her in the first place so how could she just shamelessly wear them?

“Oh, I’m a woman of honor so I won’t need these anymore, they’re heavy and they’re just not my style.” You cousin said as she pushed herself off the counter, with her dusty fingers she removed the earrings and passed them to you, leaving the silver greasy and you’re right about to slap her into the next century until your aunt and uncle walk into the kitchen seeming tense.

Your dad follows behind them, seeming tense as well but his discomfort is much more easily hidden than your aunts.

“We’re going now, say bye to your cousin.” Your aunt said curtly, her hand on Elizabeth's shoulder as your uncle straight up walked out without glancing at you.

“Bye! Good luck.” Your little cousin cooed before leaving with her mom giving you a disappointed glance, then following suit.

“..Dad? What's all that about?” You ask with an awkward laugh that came out more as a nervous outward breath, to which he looked at you and in your hands at the earrings.

“Get those cleaned up from that grease, they were your mothers. At least Elizabeth practically refunded you.” Your dad chuckled dryly before walking past you to the stairs.

Refunded?

Shit.

You place the earrings on the kitchen counter and follow behind him, his objective clearly being to go into your room.

“Wait! Wait- wait, dad, what are you doing? Remember privacy..! Our rule being I can’t go in your room and you can’t go into mine?” You stumbled on your words as you watched him open your door like a man on a mission, You distinctly remember that when you turned around twelve years old and was learning more about what Osborn Industries do, your dad has done his best to make sure you had little to no part in his business, which meant no more ‘office visits’.

He hadn’t been in your room since you took down your My Little Pony posters and stopped using jewelry boxes with music and rotating ballerinas in them.

He abruptly stood next to your door and gestured for you to go in first. His silent order was enough to shut you up and walk in, your father stepping into your room behind you.

“Anything you want to show me?” Norman asked with a tilt of his head, looking at you in a way you don’t think you’ve ever seen happen in your life. You were always a ‘good kid’, meaning you weren’t always caught.

With your answer: Silence, Norman looked away and took a breath with his tongue in his cheek and his hands on his hips. “Take it out.” He ordered, and before you even tried to act dumb in your answer, he repeated himself with a louder tone and pointed towards your bed.

Digging your own grave, you nod and do as he said, going to your bed and taking out the shoebox, placing it at the edge and sitting beside it.

Your dad came closer and sat on the edge of the bed with the box between you two, “So, Do you want to tell me what's in here?” His hand rests on the top of the shoebox and your hands clench into the lace of your dress.

Your dad never was the kind to ask anything unless he already knew, so you really were practically six feet under. If you say no, he’ll make you open the box. If you confess, you have no idea if anything worse will happen.

“..Pictures..” you murmured,

“Pictures of what?”

“Of me and someone.”

At your vague answer, his hand suddenly moved to the side of the shoebox and he pushed it off the bed, the cover falling off and the photos spilling out. He doesn’t look at the pictures at all and instead looks at the wall in the opposite direction away from them.

“Grab a picture where I see who it is.. Try to find nothing inappropriate.” Norman continued, seeming to wait patiently for you to do as he says. Now you feel like you’re being questioned to the point your teeth or fingers are at risk.

You look at the fallen pictures and back at Norman to make sure he's faced away, and look through them, looking for the least incriminating one of Hobie. Tears of dread and humiliation pooling at your eyes as you place it on the bed in front of your father, one where it's simply one of hobie with his neck craned to show hickeys littered on his slim jawline and collarbone.

Norman hums and nods slightly, “Is this that guy you liked? His music was like rock and his name was.. Harry? Henry? something-brown?”

“Punk music, and uhm.. It’s Hobie.” you mumble, you could never go against your father as if you two were like mixing oil and water.

He hums again before speaking with a firm and cold voice, “You aren’t seeing him again, and you’re not allowed out of the house. Roxanne will make your purchases and do your errands, and I’ll hire a twenty-four hour bodyguard.” He then stood as if your heart wasn’t just shattered by how you won’t be able to help anyone anymore, you’re more trapped than you were even before Hobie was in the picture, literally and figuratively.

You stood along with him and gestured your hands frantically, “What!? No! You can’t just-” You yelled before your words suddenly stop the moment you feel a sting on the side of your face, he just slapped you..

“Osborns don’t yell, and we don’t do disgusting activities with a perverted musician who’s only success in life is his ‘lifestyle’ of acting like a worthless punk.” You’ve never heard such venom in words spat from your father, never directed towards you at least.

And with that, he walked out. You felt like you were going to explode with all the anger boiling and frustration bubbling in your chest and when he walked out of your room, you screamed into your pillow and cried your heart out.

You don’t realize how long it’s been when you wake up, sitting up from your bed and looking over your bedroom where the few things that brought you joy were gone and cleaned out. Like your stereo, record player, Vinyl records, and your phone.

You felt tears prickle at the sides of your eyes and wish that this was a dream, that you can wake up to your father still loving you and hopeful that this really wasn’t happening.

About to lay back and cry again, you hear a thump on your window and then a few knocks.

You stand up and head over to your window to find Hobie awkwardly hanging on the wall while gesturing to the wooden frame of the glassed hole in your room.

You see that there's a lock, but a whole ass padlock that requires a key as if your window were the gates to a junkyard.

You shut your eyes and clasp your hands over your face with an exaggerated gentleness, knowing Hobie would break the window if he saw you physically take your frustration out on yourself or anything around you.

But just then your bedroom door flies open with Roxy standing there, staring at you and the punk by your window. You open your mouth to speak but she stops you with a gesture of her hand.

“Your father sent me up here to tell you that you’re no longer allowed out without your bodyguards, tomorrow security cameras will be installed outside your window, and.. I think you can tell what else I was going to say.” Her eyes fell to the window you were standing next to, hardly getting a glimpse of Hobie before he put his mask on. All she could see was just his skin tone and the dim shine of his piercings, “Window is locked with a key he’s trusting me to keep.”

“Roxy, please..” You mumbled as you went to her, tone pleading and genuine, “You know this is worse than before, couldn’t you have told my dad to go easy? This is my first offense, I always was well behaved for hi-”

“You know as much as I do that these are your consequences, I should have never let you go out so many times.” She sighed in disappointment, directed to either you or herself as she continued, “I’m sorry but it's not that it’s your ‘first offense’, it’s the fact that you’ve gone out and behaved like a borderline slut with a man you know your father despises.”

“..The slut comment wasn’t necessary.” You commented as you looked away and crossed your arms over your chest. You knew she wasn’t wrong but this felt like, “This is overkill, dude.”

“Yeah well, say that to your father when he’s back to being able to look you in the eyes.” Roxxanne didn’t even seem to do it either by how she looked at you but not at you.

“Please, Please at least unlock the window so me and ho-” You pause, “me and him can just say goodbye?”

You knew this sounded dramatic but you knew your dad wouldn’t give you the chance to do anything until you were thirty, maybe longer if he keeps denying the fact that you aren’t a little girl anymore.

“You’re just so.. Dammit.” That was the first time you’ve heard Roxy come close to cussing, but you immediately forget that as you watch her take out a keychain from her pocket, you couldn’t help but grin at her singling out the key that opens the padlock of the locked window.

The padlock soon opened with a click, the window sliding open and Roxy stood aside as Spiderpunk crawled in, flopping on the ground and getting up casually with an awkward nod of his head as a greeting to the woman that let him in.

She looked him up and down before back at you, “Keep this quick, if your father finds this out you’re completely on your own.” Roxy said seriously.

“Thank you so fucking much!” You grinned before latching onto her in a hug, to which she loosely embraced you back. “You’re still on thin ice, alright?” She whispered to you before pulling back and patting your shoulders.

Roxy turned back towards the masked punk stood there, getting face to face–as much as she could with him towering over her–And spoke with a hint of threat. “You have no idea what you’re getting into, keep her safe or so help me god Mr. Osborn will know of everything done.”

“Yes ma’am.” Spiderpunk replied with a surrender gesture of his hand, “She’s in good hands.”

And with that, Roxxanne said something about how you two have an hour, keeping things PG, and so forth. Then, she was gone with a shut of the door behind her.

“..Seems like you were found out.” Hobie commented with a dry chuckle, making sure to lock the door before taking off his mask, soon being attacked with a hug by you, your face in his chest and your arms clinging to him tightly.

“It’s worse than before! There's locks on everything and theres- theres gonna be cameras everywhere, my dad managed to make this place hell even more than it already was.” You sobbed into him, making hobie tightly hug you back with his gloved hand cradling the back of your head.

“I’s alright dove, we can figure something ou’-” He gently began, using the tone he often had to whenever you got like this, but cut off by one of your choked sobs and continuing.

“He’s never yelled at me before, He always was patient and talked about things but it’s like I’m not even his daughter anymore! Treating me like some dog on a leash he thinks he can hit and make the leash tighter.”

You felt him tense, soon feeling him nuzzling into the top of your head, “Shh..shh, Wha’s this abou’ him bea’ing you like a dog?” His voice was over exaggeratedly calm, making you tense as well.

“No no no no no hang on,” You quickly back tracked, moving back to wipe your tears and look up at him, “He didn’t beat me I was just exaggerating..! He just slapped me and he didn’t do anything more than that nor would he ever.”

You were practically biting yourself in the ass at how you were defending the man that even you hated, but Hobie wasn’t the type of man to let anyone get away with hurting you, he already had enough reason to hate everything your father stood for.

“That son of a..” He trailed off and turned around, he would have beaten your dad into a pulp if you didn't grab his wrist to turn him around to look at you.

“Hobie, you know that this wouldn’t help if not make things worse.” You said to him while looking into his eyes, his face furrowed and tense in his moment of blind rage, soon, his fisted hands relaxed and he let out a breath before pulling you into another hug.

“Look, you’re my whole world and you know this place isn’ good for you.” He murmured into your soft hair, “Please.. Come wit’ me.”

You weren't able to think if its because of the need to try and go against your own father, or at how he seemed so genuine, but the idea of leaving everything you knew behind was too much. You just had to get the last word.

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

Hobie let out a breathless laugh, pulling back to cradle your face and look into your eyes, “Seriously? You mean tha’?” He beamed before kissing you, you could feel the grin on his lips as you amorously reciprocated.

You giggled and nodded, your hands moving to his chest to look up at him, “Yeah! Yeah, when do we go?”

“Within the next hour, pack whatever you can and- and I’ll get whatever we can sell, yeah?”

And with that, The next moments are a blur, you filling your pillowcase with any clothing you can that wouldn’t get you mugged, and Hobie filling another with everything you’ve bought with blood money. From old too-heavy tiaras, to rings, to necklaces you’ve worn once.

Hobie webbed the pillow cases shut and together, having you hold them while he focused on holding you and web slinging to his houseboat.

__________________________

From then on, You’re known as Emily brown.

Not as the daughter of a monster,

Not as the bratty girl with her life handed to her on a silver platter,

Finally your own person.

__________

YIPPEE

☆ taglist:

@craziblondi

@fodmdk123

@vinxernica

@muffinlovesfiction

@rexlroze

@jane-3043

@coffeeandtealol

@alecmores

@azuurr3

@nyumeit

@noharaaa

@alisoncdariel

@dailyhobiebrown

@malatuadimadre

@banumanus

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@i-want-to-be-hit-by-a-car

@citricsapph

@theoriginaluzisimp

#{☆insooks ☆} #insuke #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #insooks rambles #fanfic #spiderman #spider punk #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown x reader fic

[avadaniels]

MARMALADE (2024) + gender

#marmalade #joe keery #camila morrone #flashing gif tw #marmalade spoilers #filmedit #marmaladeedit #userallisyn #usertiny #userspree #userashe #usereri #usersen #usersugar #tuserdee #* #sure it's not that deep and marmalade is just a story baron made up in order to escape.... #but also...i've conncted the dots. i've connected them #i think baron exists at the intersection of masculinity and femininity #its about the hair and the masks and the dress and the disguises #marmalade is his dream. his alter ego. his idealized self. she is a woman who represents bravery and confidence and love #where does baron end and marmalade begin... #anyways it's gender. to me #i could've made this sooner but i was lowkey waiting for a better file lmao oh well

[cucumberteapot]

Ugh! I love how so unapologetically punk this film. Obviously, there's Hobie with his battle jacket and electric guitar, and his whole Vibe™ immediately comes to mind, but the subgroups of punk are so deeply entrenched throughout the entire movie.

Like Hobie's style, in particular, reminds me so much of how British punk fashion is accumulating old, worn, even ugly pieces of clothing and turning it into something cool. It's thrift stores. It's hand-me-downs. It's customisations. It's momentos from friends. Maybe even piercings done by friends. It's about taking things from different places and making them your own - which is exactly how Hobie ends up making the dimension travel watch. Another thing is Hobie's blue laces, which I've been told is punk-code for having killed a police officer. We as audience members can go back and forth on whether ATSV is a copaganda film or has its themes, but I believe that tiny detail about Hobie is huge for a film distributed from a country that often values authoritative institutions more than it citizens.

Gwen is implicitly trans and shaves half her head, which is, from my understanding, HUGE for trans women who experience gender dysphoria. A lot of Gwen's fashion and prom dress especially reminds me of Hayley Williams in the late 2000s-early 2010s. It's very experimental, which I feel matches her age and uncertainty about being Spiderwoman, her dad, and Peter's death.

There's also a lot of concept art for Gwen's hair where her side-cut becomes an undercut and she wears it in a pony tail or bun and I just think they're so cool - D especially.

Miles G Morales' design is so heavily inspired by alternative goth fashion and techwear - a mix of combat attire and hip-hop streetwear. It's loose yet slick with it's own customisations in the crown-cut collar and the spray-paint insignia, and incorporates high-advanced technology in the mask.

It's futuristic. A what-could-be. And specifically what Miles could've been if he wasn't bit by the spider. Another cool thing, I don't know if this is related but worth pointing out, is that Prowler wears a modified (leather, bomber, varsity??) jacket. That's kinda crazy for an superhero/anti-hero suit if you think about it. Most of the time you'll see Marvel or DC characters running around in a spandex suit or (for women) almost nothing at all. But like Hobie we see how Miles G styles himself even when he's disguised. Like I wouldn't be surprised if his outfit change was just turning the jacket inside out like a sukajan jacket.

ATSV has so many characters with the own specific styles and it's really nice to see where most franchises are all or nothing when it comes to character design aesthetics.

#man there's so many ways to be punk in this film whether it's alt or anarcho or garage etc #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #miles morales #spiderman #atsv #satsv #hobie brown #gwen stacy #miles g morales #spiderman across the spiderverse #prowler #spiderman: across the spiderverse #spider punk #spiderwoman #spider man #ghost spider

[sailtomarina]

Inside Out and All Tied Up

“BLAURGHHHHHH!”

Harry’s mouth hung open, one foot still in the bathroom behind him, as he watched his best friend barrel down the hall. He would’ve been tempted to consider Ron’s scream some kind of Samhain prank to help set the mood for the party currently raging on downstairs, but there was nothing fake about the way his freckles stood out even more than usual in his pale skin or the visible white of his wide eyes. Harry couldn’t recall seeing this kind of naked fear on him since their school days.

Ron’s escape was partially impeded by his own costume of what appeared to be a blast-ended skrewt, if the sparks coming out his butt were any indication. If he’d worn a mask at some point, it was long gone, now replaced with the perfect picture of a Ron Weasley completely terrified out of his mind.

So, Harry did what Harry did best—he charged towards the threat.

“Wait, Harry, don’t!” Ron’s cry came a moment too late.

He wrenched the door open, wand at the ready. He wasn’t sure what he expected. An Acromantula? A naked couple going at it on Ron’s Quidditch-themed sheets?

He was partially correct on both fronts.

“For Circe’s sake, Draco, can’t you cast a locking spell?” Hermione snapped from where she lay across the bed. She was strung up in what appeared to be a dress of some kind of spun thread, wrapped up so tightly from mid-thigh to neck that Harry was surprised she could even breathe. Her hands were tied up with the same thread to one headpost. Blood seemed to ooze from several punctures and gashed along her arms and legs.

That wasn’t even the most surprising part of what Harry had walked into.

Hovering over her was a spider man. Not that Spider-Man, but a figure in black with far more limbs extending from his torso than humanly possible. Stiff grey hairs sprouted from the black material of his limbs and across his back where a large bump protruded, giving the uncanny appearance of a spider about to devour its prey.

“It’s not like much time passed since Weasley ran away screaming. You know you liked it.”

Harry would recognize that voice anywhere, even without Hermione giving him away. There was no disguising that smug nonchalance that prompted a sly grin across his other best friend’s face. She only gave that smile and those eyes to one man.

As Malfoy stood and turned to face him, Harry nearly screamed himself—out of surprise, of course. Not fear.

The git wore a mask that covered the entirety of his face, and the cursed thing swarmed with a magic that gave the illusion of shifting eyes of various sizes.

“Potter, do you mind?”

Malfoy’s voice was thick with expectation, and normally Harry would have rolled his eyes and locked the door behind him. Instead, he nearly threw up at the image of a mouth that opened up to speak, revealing sharpened teeth dripping with blood.

Harry didn’t know what he was seeing. “What. The. Fuck?”

Malfoy continued to stare at him with what must have been his real hands resting on his hips, the others limbs spasming behind him in a too-realistic manner.

“My shoulders are getting sore over here!” Hermione called out, annoyance heavy in her tone.

“Hermione, what’s going on? Did Malfoy bite you? Is that why Ron freaked out? And why are you tied up?” The questions were endless, and it was only Malfoy’s amused laughter that stopped Harry from continuing.

“Honestly, Potter, it’s like you haven’t seen magic before.” WIth a wave of his wand, Malfoy vanished the bonds holding Hermione down. Another twist, and the blood and marks on her skin disappeared.

“Draco! You know these took me forever to do!”

“Better to redo it all than have your two sidekicks accusing me of abusing my fiancée,” Draco drawled. He finally flipped up the mask covering his face, revealing his features in all their pointiness. “What are you supposed to be?”

Harry couldn’t understand how Hermione could find the git even remotely attractive. If he wrinkled his nose any longer, the marks were bound to age him faster than an Age Line gone wrong.

“I’m the Master of Death, obviously.”

His statement garnered him nothing but silence and the scrutinizing eyes of both Malfoy and Hermione.

“C’mon. The Invisibility Cloak, my wand,” he waved the “Death Stick” in the air in one hand before raising a rock in the other, “and the Resurrection Stone. Brilliant, right?”

They continued to stare at him as if he was completely mad. There was another awkward beat of silence before Hermione spoke up.

“You do realize your cloak is inside out? Nobody can tell that’s an invisibility cloak, much less the Invisibility cloak.”

This time it was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes. That earned him yet another scowl from Malfoy. “I’m not about to walk around with my head floating in the air. That’d freak people out too much.”

“Potter, it’s Samhain. There’s an entire table down there set for the dead. Ghosts actually show up. Right now, you just look like your normal, boring self.” Draco listed out reasons that made Harry feel dumb for his precautions and for walking in on the couple in the first place.

“Harry, you see we’re good here now, right? Do you mind giving us a bit of privacy?” Hermione asked from where she lay, having returned to her earlier position on the bed.

“Oh! Yeah, right, I’ll just—” He fumbled to turn his cloak right side out, all while backing towards the hallway. He was nearly out before he bumped straight into another body.

“Sorry, mate, I couldn’t help—oh, for fuck’s sake!” Ron’s apology evaporated as he noticed Malfoy resuming his ascent up Hermione’s struggling figure.

Without even glancing back, Malfoy threw a hand behind him, slamming the door shut in their faces, the click of the lock that followed loud in their ears.

“Of all the rooms, they just had to pick mine,” Ron muttered. “I should drag them out by their stupid webby limbs—”

Smack!

Bright green eyes turned to meet blue. They wore twin expressions of horror.

“Did he just?”

“We should…” Harry twirled his wand in a series of weaving circles, silencing the smacks and moans he never wanted to hear again, “…go.”

Ron shook his head in exasperation. “Blimey.”

“Yeah.”

The redhead took note of the floating head beside him. “What are you supposed to be?”

Harry puffed out his chest, which would have been visible had he not fixed the cloak as suggested, and held his wand and rock up for inspection. “I’m the Master of Death!’

“Bloody brilliant!” Ron grinned and thumped him on the back.

Finally, someone who appreciated his idea.

WC 1135

DHRMonth Prompt: Week 3 - Celebrations, September 17 - Halloween

Cross-posted to AO3

I had this elaborate idea of delving much, much further into Samhain, but then I had to go to dinner, a concert, and then it was far too late at night and this is what came out.

#dramione month #dramionemonth #dramione #dhr fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy x hermione granger #hermione granger #draco malfoy #harry potter #ron weasley

[themaiden05]

Fate ( part 2)

pairing : kartik aaran x fem reader

part1 ; https://www.tumblr.com/themaiden05/714953202326437888/fate-part-1?source=share

kartik couldn't stop thinking about her. Y/n , Y/n , Y/n it was all he could think about. how could he love someone he doesnt even know so madly? he didnt have an answer for that . she was making him feel all kinds of emotions and not just love, she was making him anxious at time , what if she believes all the kriti x kartik shipping going around the internet? what if she ships them too? what if she has a boyfriend? what if she has a fiancee? no no that cant be ,she's can only be y/n aaryan tiwari ! he wouldnt let any duffer's surname even get close to her. what if she's already married ? what if she is out of his reach already? His thoughts were getting ahold of him. He even called his sister Y/n once , good thing she didnt pay attention . he searched her up on instagram , facebook , twitter but there were a million women with the name Y/n, Not knowing her surname made it worse. a lot of public profiles , and profiles with a Dp was out of the way , kartik knew what his y/n looked like, he didnt even need to look at the screenshot he took, her face was imprinted onto his heart . but then there were a lot of profiles with no profile pictures or random profile pictures . he wasnt even sure if her name was her account name so social media was a fail

"any lead?" kriti asked . she was as dedicated in finding kartik's dream girl as he was

"nope, nothing yet"

" what if we just ask the principal of the college for some info?"

"and what are we gonna say? hello sir! I am in love with one of your students , so can I get her instagram id and biodata. he would kick us both out"

"yeah! youre right. did you get anything else from the college website?"

"NO , what we found before was the only thing about her in the entire website"

" you know what Im hungary, lets go eat something . Ive heard there's a new chinese restaurant in town" kriti said standing up from her chair

"no yaar , Im not hungry!"

" I heard its near lourde college"

kartik jumped up from his seat

"what are we waiting for? lets go , Im so hungry!"

kriti laughed at his newfound excitement

"ya lets go"

kartik and kriti had done their best to disguise themselves. they dont want the pap to spread yet another rumour of them being heads over heel in love with each other. the huge glasses , beanie ,mask and hoodie were certainly doing there job . no one has recognised them yet. they find a table and sit facing each other.

"oh my god kartik"

"what is it kriti?" kartik asks .

"its-

kriti didnt even have to finish . kartik could sense the familiar scent . he could hear someone sitting on the chair behind them. he turned around. she was right there. His y/n . In a satin green dress, her hair opened and flying slightly in the wind. Her eyes are searching for someone. kartik's heart drops once he sees the guy walking towards her , smiling . he sees her smiling back . The smle he always imagined shed give him when he says how beautiful she is to him , The smile she'd give him when he gets her flowers and give her a pecks on her cheek before leaving for shooting. But he isnt the one getting that smile from her right now and it breaks his heart . He isnt some kabir singh to go out there to force her away from him. she looks happy and thats what he'd want the most , for her to be happy

"sorry , I'm late "

"its ok adi"

kartik hears them talk. kriti is ranting about something but kartik can focus only on what you are saying.

"ehh, youre wearing this green dress again?

"its my favourite dress adi "

"it looks shitty"

what kind of a man is he ? who talks to their girlfriend like that? if he doesnt like the dress why doesnt he just tell it to her nicely? why is she letting him talk to her like that? a million question runs over his head

'' Im gonna use the restroom real quick"

"ya ok but dont take ages. I have to go soon after this , i cant be stuck with you for too long"

stuck with her? where did she even find this douchebag from ? who can't even spend some time with her? Is she hurt from what he said ? has she gone to the restroom to cry?

"im gonna go check on her kriti"

"what!? kartik but-" kriti doesnt even finish before kartik jumps over the chair and walks over to the restroom.

as kartik walks in he sees y/n standing in front of the mirror. she doesnt look like she cried but what if she's really good at hiding emotions

"y/n" kartik calls out.

"who are you?" she looks terrified . thats when kartik remembered his glasses mask and beanie , he looks like a goddamn serial killer. he takes off his glasses and mask

"kartik aaryan?"

"you dont have to call my entire name like that! just call me kartik or koki"kartik ranted out . he could hear his heart beat out of his chest. he could see her blushing

"what are you doing here?"

"oh my friend wanted to try out this restaurant!"

"The restaurant or its women's restroom?"

"oh shit ! this is the women's restroom? great here we go again . I swear im not a pervert , fate just brings me into women's restrooms sometimes"

"fate?" y/n starts laughing . she looks so pretty to him doing so

"this is yours i assume?" kartik takes out her badge from his pocket. good thing he takes it everywhere with him to remind him of her

"oh yeah ! i had lost it the day i met you at another women's restroom"

they both chuckle and walks out kartik puts his glasses and mask back on . he wants to say and ask a lot more but the fact that she has a boyfriend waiting for her stops him. he still muster up the courage to ask her full name but before he could finish they are interrupted by someone. its adi he is still looking down at his phone as he speaks

"i have to go now "

"but we didnt even order yet"

''oh come on man, we'll do this some other time and besides i promised riya from office a movie together"

kartik is on the verge of losing his shit . how can he talk to his girlfriend like that and choose another women over her? why isnt she saying anything?

adi takes his eyes of his phone and looks at the man in front of him

"who's this duffer?"

kartik loses his shit completely and punches him on his nose. adi stumbles back in pain

"thats what you get for treating youre girlfriend like that "

"bhaiyya!!!" y/n runs from kartik's behind to adi

"bhaiyya?oh fuck" kriti always told kartik he's dumb and now it was as if he has realised it

"what the fuck man? who's girlfriend? what girlfriend?" adi asks while covering his nose with his hand

kartik runs over to him

"im so sorry bhaiyya! there was a huuuge misunderstanding"

"whaaaat!? who the hell are you man and why the hell are you calling me bhaiyya"

"you are her bhaiyya , youre my bhaiyya why does it matter bhaiyya?"

y/n chuckles at kartik's remark and their eyes meet . kartik is so relieved that this man he just punched is no one other than his future brother in law but it really was kind of a bad first impression but he'll make up for it

"y/n ask this guy to leave" adi grunts in pain

"koki ! leave"

"koki? so no more kartik aaryan"

y/n blushed and looked down

"ill get going now bhaiyya do put some ice on it itll be alright"

"get outta here dickhead before i punch you back"

"ok ok" before he left he leaned closer to y/n

"you know where to find me" and he walked away from his y/n who was now a blushing mess and her brother a bloody mess.......

(bhaiyya: brother)

to be continued......

#kartik aaryan x reader #kartik aaryan #kriti sanon #bollywood x reader #strangers to lovers

[shieldkeeper]

Writing Prompt: Call it a Day Word Count: 723

“This one is bored.”

“You or me, kupo?”

“Mmmm, both?”

Two lalafells had been left to their own devices upon Garen’s ship. Both of them recently recruited into the crew and given a set list of duties for each individual. Of course they were free to do as they pleased! So long as they did their chores and kept up with the rest of them.

Which was all nice and dandy and all, but these two in particular held no attention span for work for long! Even when they were playing nice and pretending to play the act of the landwalkers, their worlds were a little different in their own eyes.

Those born of mischief and play. A member of their respective tribe clad in glamoured disguise.

“Wishy washing the floors with hands are so boring. These ones should just fly and let loose our magicks to do the trick!” The ‘lalafell’ dressed in forest greens and bark browns whined in a sing song voice. Flailing dramatically in a way not befitting their form… before the guise held no further and they transformed into that of a masked sylphling.

The other ‘lalafell’ dressed in rags and his most notable featuring being a poof of white hair fluff blinked as eyes grew wide and lit up in mischievous glee. The best part about this whole ship crew thing was finding someone much like him, just looking for an excuse to cast whimsical wonders for a spot of fun.

“But won’t we but wrung out and forced to walk the plank, kupo?”

Garen, the captain of this motley crew, had gone to great lengths to emphasize to the two tribe members of their duties and how it needed to be done after all!

But the sylphling merely shrugs its small arms, beating its wings to float further up towards the ceiling. Olyxio would not suffer doing this the normal way any longer. “How else are these ones supposed to clean every nook and cranny? This one thinks it faster this way!”

With a flourish and flick of its wings, magicks did thusly fill the room as swabs and rags marched to their own beat. Whipping around the room as splatters of soap and water rained down from above. Mogcan, starry eyed by the display, could hold back no longer as they popped up into the form of a moogle, a triumphant little ‘toot’ from a horn as they giddily added their magicks into the fray.

Before long, anything in close proximity had been absolutely soaked as water and soap from all nearby buckets had been sprayed about the cabin and hull. Soap that lathered up quickly from the chaos, where it only grew in size instead of being infused with water for proper cleaning.

But the two of them were having fun with it! Everything was getting cleaned as promised! The captain would be so proud of them!

…

Except when the captain wasn’t exactly proud of them.

“Hey.”

The duo turned. There, standing at the entryway of the room and having come to check on how they were doing, was none other than Garen himself. He’d walked in at just the wrong time, getting just about instantly drenched in water! And Garen, who was usually so patient, so kind, so always warmly smiling—

Was smiling even now. Though not in a kind way as he loomed over the two shrunken crew members.

“How about we stop here hmmm?” Despite his smile, poison dripped in his voice. That was the sound of a land walker who looked about ready to strangle their lot! “Since you were so close to damaging our wood and all and likely sunk us if you continue.”

Both Olyxio and Mogcan instantly sensed they were in deep trouble, swift to frantically buzz around the air space in fear of what Garen might do them! Even bumping into one another before finally bumbling out of the room.

“These ones are sorry…!”

“Big big big time sorry, kupoooo!”

As the made a run for it, Garen simply sighed as he gazed out upon the mess they’d left behind. There would be… much to do in terms of drying out the room before all the water settled in. It wouldn’t be too bad, but he’d have to be fast to deal with their blundering…!

#ffxiv #writing #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #olyxio #mogcan

[fineprintedsunsets]

THE CROW'S DISGUISE

This Is For Haunted Hoedown Day 5! | | Bucky Barnes Master-List | My Haunted Hoedown Master-List

Synopsis: A masquerade is crawling with assassins. Including me, The Raven. My only goal, Kill The Crow.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: nickfowler x assassin!f reader. smut. cock humping. dirty talk. angst. betrayal. mentions of death/assassination. (bit late my faulttt) This is part of the Folklore Fantasies

Masquerade au + "i want to see you bleed"

"You Never Know The Psychopath Sitting Next To You"

My mission is simple: Kill the crow.

The mask I wear is in the shape of my alias. “The Raven”, a long navy-colored beak attached to two eye holes and light black trimming around its exterior. Tonight at Crow’s Estate, a masquerade ball is being held.

I won’t be the only assassin there. I do plan on being the only one who drives a six-inch blade through his throat. It took months to get into The Crow’s circle, and even longer to get invited to one of his events, and now that I’m in, I can hardly wait.

I do not know the face of the crow, which is unfortunate, but the D.V.E does not allow any of its assailants to know the identities of their targets. I’m aware of The Crow’s dealings, I know he is a bad person, and the solution hides strapped to my thigh underneath a black Lolita dress hand-picked for this occasion.

The Crow will fall tonight.

Classical music from inside Crow’s Estate filters outside, filling the wind and winding its notes around the invited guests. “Agent R, Can you read me?” The ear-peice Cody gave me is irritating. As if I don’t already get my fill of his obnoxious voice. I sigh, bringing two digits up to my ear, pressing against the micro-technology.

A little something we picked up or rather stole from an A.I.R house we raided in the fall.

“About to enter, how do you read me?”

Cody huffs, “Clear from the entrance to the ballroom. Security is limited but hidden” I nod, keeping my voice low. The line shifts as the hundreds of guests move up, all dressed in extravagant suits and dresses, animal or traditional masquerade masks decorate their faces.

“Got to go, Cody.” I don’t need to be in his stake-out spot to know his lips are parted in protest, I take out the earpiece and tuck it into one of the many hidden pockets in this dress.

Beautiful and functional, just how I like it. I breathe out my nose, bracing myself for another long wait. It will take me at least thirty minutes to get to the front of the line, by then the festivities would have started.

I sigh, adjusting the strings tugging at my hair, making sure the mask sits firmly on my features.

The Raven will be The Crow’s demise.

𓅂

My heels scrape against the polished floors of the Crow Estate. It is exactly out of an Edgar Allan Poe fever dream and I can’t say I hate it. Musicians draw back their bows, sliding them elegantly along their many variants of the string family. Violins and Cellos, mixed with woodwinds and percussion.

The chandeliers that swing above light the whole room as people pack inside the ballroom. Many are already dancing, spinning their partners along to the rhythm. I don’t replace my earpiece. It’s unnoticeable, but first I must take out security.

Cody said it’s limited, which is odd for an event of this importance. The Crow has definitely invited his business partners. If I can take out security, or at least locate them, it will make my job a lot easier. The blade pushes into my skin, a heavy reminder of the task at hand.

Servants walk around with trays of champagne, working their way from guest to guest. As much as my hand aches to grab one of the clear flutes, I don’t. I find my way to the dance floor, heavily hoping someone will see I'm in need of a dance partner.

Several seconds go by until a man approaches me, he wears a fox mask, and the auburn trim is fit for his masculine features, the white and orange design mixing well with the overall look.

“Madam.” His hand reaches for my own. I allow him to grab my fingers, ignoring the spark that emits through my flesh. He places a small kiss against my knuckles, his mask rubbing over my skin.

He’s not my target, the crow is wearing a black mask in the shape of his alias. It seems obvious to me, but only his business partners know him by “The Crow”. All of the regular guests just know him as “The Man”.

A blush rises on my cheek as he lingers at my hand, I’m now more grateful than ever for the mask covering my face. “May I have this dance?” He speaks, his pink lips parting just a bit. I can see his short hair and his brown stubble. His electric blue pupils are sending flames through my body.

I nod, keeping my face neutral. I’ve been trained to master the art of not reacting, even if internally my body is waging war. It’s why I’m never invited to play poker with the rest of the guys.

I win too often.

His hand slides into my palm, dwarfing my fingers. The veins that are visible as his other palm finds my hip, flexing to mold into my curves is something I can't take my eyes off of.

The fox brings us into the center of the dance floor, we become one as he pulls my body closer, black suit and black dress collide in a mix of fabric as he guides my hand to rest on the back of his head. His hand is like lava melting wood. Digging deeper, molding to its surface before it burns it completely.

Other people move away as we start to move to the beat, in the standard choreographic positions for this type of music. The fox smiles, and I know it reaches his ears by the way they lift.

“What’s your name?” He whispers, his gaze locked on mine. I know he can feel my back tense, but not out of fear or discomfort, my breath does the same, it holds before it’s relieved.

This fox is making me freeze up.

I have to get us moving quicker, I need to scout out security. “Raven.” I lie, everyone is required to have an alias at this masquerade ball, whether you're a guest or an assassin. It is why the fox is the fox.

You can learn a lot about the people behind the mask from the mask. This man is sneaky and stealthy, but cunning. A predator to some, but prey to others.

“You're analyzing me aren’t you, Raven?” He mimics, smiling as we spin around, avoiding each other's shoes. We do it so perfectly I get lost in it, ignoring his question completely. It’s like we were made for each other's body, swaying and sliding as the music heightens. My breath hitches as his fingers come around to brush against my bare back, holding me steady. I silently curse at myself, knowing no emotion is to be shown.

“And If I am, Fox?” I bite back, sneaking in unnoticed glances around the ballroom. There are no tell-tale signs of security, nothing to make them stick out amongst the other guests. For the first time, I long to hear Cody’s voice. He smiles, his eyes growing beneath his masks.

“I wouldn’t stop you, I have already analyzed everyone here.” My brow quirks at his confession, my hand grabbing at the invisible strands of his hair. I don’t know if I want him closer, or further away.

“What about me, Fox? What can you tell me about myself?” Fuck it. I can’t find security and The Crow does not arrive until midnight. I’ll enjoy myself, I’ll fall down the rabbit hole with the Fox.

I deserve some fun.

I melt into his touch, feeling his fingers flex as the song changes. I dip my chin up, avoiding stabbing him with the pointy end of my mask. Wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty face.

“You prefer solitude. You often disappear into the shadows, never relying on others to get the job done.” My face doesn't move as we glide across the ballroom, it feels as if it's just him and I, the other guest long gone.

The Fox, The Raven, And The Rhythm.

“Am I in your heart, Raven?” “Not even close.” I smile, looking at the man who now glides me across the dance room, the hands I suddenly trust, the fingers keeping my body moving. Heat slides through my body, presently in my thighs, my veins, This fox is everywhere.

I want more.

I shouldn't be this distracted. But I can’t stop myself.

The music thrums as he twirls me out, and my heart beats, relying on him to bring me back. Time slows when he tightens his grip, returning me to his chest safely. We're closer than ever, and now I can smell him.

Cinnamon and spice, smells I want to get intoxicated on. I want to swim and drown in them. Our breaths intertwine, my hand tightens against his head, urging him to come closer. His lips part, and I feel mine do the same as the music encases us in our own bubble.

Until he pulls away, shattering everything I’ve ever wanted in seconds. “Not here.”

“But somewhere?” I ask, and again that smile makes me gulp. A sly smirk, but a playful look.

A fox indeed.

“But somewhere.” He echos, and before I can protest, he’s tugging me through the dancing bodies, guiding me through masked men and women. The fox brings me all the way to the stairs at the front of the house, the instruments far behind.

I look up at the beautiful black marbled steps and gold-plated railing, my fingers slide into the palm of the fox as he leads the way, up the stairs and into one of the many rooms.

My body fills with anticipation, heat overriding my veins, making me forget everything. All I know is I need him, and I need him now. And it’s exactly what I’ll get.

𓅂

The fox has backed me against a door, his breath coming out in heaves as he places rushed kisses against my collarbone. I arch my back against the wood, begging him to go lower, to press his lips all over my body.

“Your an eager little bird.” He coos, his tone husky, dripping in lust. We reside in a bedroom, it looks like it’s never been used, never touched, or slept in. “Tell me your name.” I bring his lips to mine, allowing them to ravish my mouth, sparks shooting through me.

“Nick.”

“A name for a name?” He asks, his brows raising in tandem. His face, his features, even the ones that are hidden I’m sure are perfect.

“How about a mask for a mask?” I bargain, feeling his lips slide against my jawbone, placing harsh kisses against the flesh.

“You don’t play fair.” Nick tuts, his subtle grazing my throat as he continues the array of sloppy kisses. Were both filled with undeniable need, some we cannot deny.

“Never have, Never will.” I smile, tilting my mask up, silently telling him to remove it. Nick does, his fingers grazing the back of my head as he unties the Raven. The material falls away revealing my hidden features.

“Your beautiful,” Nick whispers against my cheek. It’s hard to hide the flush the compliment gives me. My fingers run over his jaw, feather-light but enough to make him shudder.

My fingers go to the back of his head, grabbing the orange tie and slowly pulling it off. I watch the mask slide off his face, his blue eyes more intense as the mask joins my own on the floor.

And then we are a tangle of limbs. Kissing, and sucking the air out of each other's lungs. We rely on each other as we sway in the darkness, attempting to find the mattress of the unused bedroom. The music doesn't bother either of us, in fact, it flows with our clothes that are now tossed on the floor.

Nick pulls my body to his, my nipples hard against his defined chest. A smile tugs at his lips as he dips to kiss my cleavage, sucking a hard peak into his mouth. I gasp at the pleasure, arching my back as we collide on the mattress. He’s hard under me, I can feel his cock pulsating in his boxers. And my underwear wet with arousal.

I reach for his boxers as his thick thighs keep us at the edge of the bed. My breath catches in my throat, and I’m suddenly aware of what is about to happen. Except Nick places a finger against my lips, “When I fuck you, Raven, I want you to be able to scream.”

“We can’t do that here,” I say, the disappointment is clear in my tone. The fox is right, everyone in their mothers will surely hear us, even over the music.

Before I can protest, Nick grabs my hips, moving my clothed clit to rub against his imprisoned cock. I moan at the friction, his tip bumping against my nub. “Hump my cock.” He orders, and it takes all my resolve not to double over right there.

I straddle his lap, feeling his hard length pressing into me, begging for release. My fingers find his abdomen, running lines down his pecs. I could get lost in the peaks and valleys of the fox’s body.

I do as he asks, his hands buried deep in the side of my hips, molding to my shape as I grind against him, controlling my tempo by grabbing onto Nick’s back, and keeping myself steady.

Nick groans, his eyes switching from me to where my pussy rubs against him, the growing wetness evident of our desire. Heat is filling me in our bubble again as his lips hungrily grab at my own, pushing my folds onto his cock with force, attempting to find both our pleasure.

“Doing so good, sweet raven.” He praises me, his moans filling my ears like a steady beat I can’t get enough of. A song I will sing for eternity. Nick thrust into me, nudging my clit with his tip. He sees my enjoyment and does it again. Over and over until I’m about ready to collapse.

“Gonna cum all over my slacks, Raven? Make a sloppy mess on my cock?” His words are daunting, but it only drives my pleasure deeper, I’m begging to hit a home run. Nick’s breath speeds up, higher and higher as his fingernails set a bruising pace, our lips clashing, our tongues intertwining.

The more Nick opens his perfect mouth, The more I clench around nothing, the wetter I get, the damper Nick’s slacks get, and the feral smile grows wider with each second. Were both close, begging to be thrown off the deep end.

“You close, sweetheart? Gonna cum with me?”

All I can do is nod, guiding my own thrust as I slide up and down his length, too much and too little friction all at once. It’s only when I see stars, I calm down.

𓅂

I stay in Nick’s arms as my eyes trace his abs, to the outline of his half-hard cock. My eyes drift to the wall, and immediately I freeze.

“Who are you looking for?” Nick asks, smiling lazily at me. I look at the clock hanging on the wall, the hands have just passed midnight.

“The Crow,” I replied coldly, not towards Nick, but to the awful man who will be dead by daylight.

“He’s already here.” My eyebrows scrunch as I turn to Nick, a question plaguing my face. It’s only then, I see it. Nick smiles his usual sly grin,

“Hello, Raya.” Hearing my real name fall from his lips allows three words I didn’t want to mutter tonight to exit my lips.

“You're the crow.” Despite my revelation, I am not hit with the sudden urge to kill him. I want to, just not as much.

“I want to see you bleed,” I say again. It’s not untrue, it feels sudden to say such a thing. My lips curled in disgust. This man, the man that I entrusted my body to, the man who just bought me an earth-shattering orgasm, is a monster.

“Most people do.”

“Fox describes me better, no?”

Sneaky and Sly.

Fucking Bastard.

#masterlist #fanfic #oneshot #smut #nick fowler #sebastian stan #hauntedhoedownmasterlist #hauntedhoedownday5 #haunted hoedown #inklore

[laurellerual]

sansa's hair isnt so dark, and its seems you forgot she painted black in the vale. go read the books

I'm a bit confused by this cause' I don't know which of my Sansa fanarts you are referring to.

If you talk about the one with Mya and Myranda, Sansa is obviously disguised as Alayne and in fact her hair is darker.

If you talk about the personal sigil in which there is the red-haired Maiden, I drew her like this because I wanted her to remember Sansa. They are a little lighter than they are in canon, but I was trying to use the standard colors used in heraldry.

If you're talking about the one with the snow castle she's obviously disguised as Alayne so her hairs are dark. Looking closer I also added a more reddish regrowth to the hair, because this is a moment where Sansa reflects on her Stark identity.

If you talk about the "family reunion" is a different matter. There are so many beautiful portrayals in the fandom where the Starks hang out and hug happily and I love them. But the impression I wanted to create was that of the strangeness of meeting people you used to be so familiar with, but life has pulled them apart, now they are strangers with totally different experiences and will have to rebuild their relationships from there. So I represented the Starks as just appearing there, in the walls of Winterfell, after so many years.

You'll notice that Arya has a little longer hair than Mercy, but she's still wearing her cape, she's still dressed like a commoner in Braavos.

You'll notice that Jon Snow is still dressed as the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch.

You'll notice that Rickon is still disheveled and that Bran still has leaves in his hair.

Finally Sansa still wears a dress with the symbol of Beilish and her hair, although starting to show traces of their original color, are still quite dark.

I'll end by saying that in my illustrations I never use black except for the outlines because it makes the image hard to read and I don't think it goes well with my style. All the black things you see are slightly desaturated browns or blues.

If you want to take off your anon mask and send me your drawings of Sansa so I can see the only real way to draw her ...

#asoiaf #asoiaf fanart #sansa stark #house stark

[female-fogbank]

Thank you @tinderbox210 for the prompt: 'on the Starbase (not in quarters', I gotta admit, this one has the potential to expand into a longer story. I'm not sure if I will but for now, I hope you enjoy it!! can also be read on AO3 here

Sometimes the burden and the responsibilities of being Spock, the son of Sarek, first hybrid of a human and Vulcan to complete Starfleet and all the fame of his accomplishments thereafter was a lot to carry. He could normally lose himself in his work, his meditation practices and the routine of daily life. 

It would work for a few months but then the crippling anxiety and claustrophobia would creep in. He’d find himself suffocating under the weight of it all, desperate to escape. Desperate to breathe. Luckily when he felt this way, they were forced to have R&R and leave the ship. So, he was relieved when they docked at Starbase 589 for their routine maintenance check. 

He, like many of the crew, could take some much-needed time away from one another as it was the last time they would have before they disappeared into the furthest outreach of space and continue their five year long trek. Spock did not understand why the Federation was still sending the Enterprise out into undiscovered territory when a war was waging with the Klingons. But given his rank, he did not feel comfortable asking. 

But he did know that no matter how many times Captain Pike argued, his request to have the Enterprise and her crew join the fight was denied. Every time, they were ordered further and further away from the fight. It was just the kindness of Admiral April who allowed them to come to this Station to resupply the ship and get the necessary repairs needed. It however did not go unnoticed that it was the only Starbase that sat on the furthest edge of known federation space. It was also the further Starbase from the front lines.  

It was not lost on Spock that the crew wanted to fight, to join their comrades. He too wanted to help but they had their orders. But the toll of those orders created undue pressure on them all. It was why Spock was more than happy to leave the ship even if it was only for a day. He knew it would be the last time he could break free for another year, maybe more. So, he had decided to do something extreme, to completely break free of who he was, and who he would have to be before the opportunity was lost.

So, when he had overheard two lieutenants discussing a notorious underground nightclub on the station that allowed for anonymity. It was perfect, he hadn’t known when he rocked up that anonymity came at a price. He happily paid it and was given the choice of a mask or genetic disguise. He opted for a genetic disguise and chose to be human.

Maybe it was perverse to hide in half of his DNA, but he didn’t care as he needed to let go. He needed to just not be himself for a few hours. To forget who he was, forget about the war, the concern for his family’s welfare. Forget that he would soon be too far away from everyone and everything he cared about to help them.

La’an was on medical leave for three more days, the last tangle with the Klingons had been brutal. She still bore the scars of it as the medic who patched her up was still learning. La’an didn’t care as she was taking the R&R given to her. She knew it would be the last time she’d be allowed the luxury of time and pleasure for herself.

She was not going to waste it, she got herself an exclusive ticket to the most popular club on the Starbase. Its name was incomprehensible for her tongue to pronounce but its reputation proceeded itself. It boasted anonymity, top class drinks, the best music and more if one wished. La’an definitely wished for it, she wore a skintight off the shoulders red dress, her long hair loose waves and a painted-on mask to obscure her identity. She knew no one would recognise her from her usual uptight appearance, perfectly coiffed braids, immaculate starfleet uniform. 

When she stepped into the club, the music pulsed through her body, she had a couple of shots before she nursed a negroni cocktail. She planned to get loose; dance and get laid, not necessarily in that order. She scoped the crowd for potential partners, she found a couple of potentials when her eyes landed on a man who looked directly at her. 

She looked him over from a distance. He was incredibly handsome, human, she guessed over 6 ft tall. There was something about him that was a little out of place, she could only guess he was wearing a genetic disguise. If she had to guess, she’d think he was Vulcan with the honest yet intense look in his eyes. But the idea a Vulcan would disguise themselves as a human was ludicrous. She dismissed the thought entirely.

In the end, it didn’t matter who he was or his secrets. What mattered was if he was interested in her and vice versa. She pushed off the bar and walked over to him.

“You’re staring at me, do you like something you see?” she asked him, she definitely liked what she saw in him. 

“I do,” he replied, “Would you like to dance?” he asked, he pushed off the wall he’d been leaning on and abandoned his drink as he held out his hand to her. La’an smiled as there was no guile in this man, he hid nothing from expression.

“Sure,” La’an said, she took his hand and let him lead her to the dancefloor. They sifted through the gyrating bodies until they found their own space. La’an didn’t waste any time as she pressed her body against his and started to move with the music. 

Spock was a little stiff at first but after a moment, he never really danced like this before. Correction, he never danced but it was easy enough to pick up. He just followed what the others around them were doing. He rested his hands on her trim waist and moved to the rhythm of her body. Soon enough, he lost himself in the music, in the dance movements were very much like making love.

He knew when he first saw her walk in that he wanted her. She felt incredible pressed against him. The feel of her pert breasts against his chest, the scent of her sweat mixed with her perfume sent intoxicated him. He ran his hands over her body, enjoying the feel of her. The perfect person to forget himself in and with. Maybe it was the disguise, or maybe it was the alcohol, or the fact he was shipping out in the morning, but he felt emboldened like never before.

La’an lifted her face up to him, she grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down. “What’s your name? I wanna know what I should calling you when you fuck me,” she shouted near his ear over the seductive pulsating music.

“Spock,” he said without thought but it was hard to lie when she licked the shell of his ear. He groaned in pleasure as his erection strained against the zipper of his pants. He ran his hands down to her ass and pressed her against him, so she could feel the effect she had on him. He pulled his head back, just to see her reaction. She showed no signs of recognition of him or his name, nothing at all. Instead, her eyes were brimming with the same fiery desire as his, her lips curled into salacious smile. Before he could even ask what her name was, she kissed him. 

It was not some tentative first kiss, there was no politeness. She devoured him, she shoved her hot tongue deep into his mouth. His cock pulsed with every flick of her tongue against his own. He groaned when she pulled back and nibbled his bottom lip as he was certain he was going to explode in his pants.

“Let’s get out of here, I have a hotel room,” Spock muttered against her lips, he molded his hands to her ass and thrusted his aching cock against her belly, as he needed her now.

“No, I want you now,” she told him impatiently, she kissed him long and hard before she pulled away from him. She grabbed his hand and pulled him through the crowd and further into the club. He heard her curse when they saw the lines for the bathroom. He was about to suggest they leave when she opened a door marked 'service'. The door swung open to a service corridor. She pulled him with her, the door snapped shut, a soft low orange glow illuminated the path. 

They locked eyes for just a second, there was no one there except for them. The tension between them snapped. Spock pushed her up against the now closed door and kissed her. She instantly parted her lips and welcomed his tongue. There was a very desperate edge to the kiss that made him pull back.

“Are you okay with this?” he asked, he caressed her arms, the heat of her body and the scent of her skin and arousal made it difficult to think, let alone talk. But he didn't want to be someone's regret.

“Yes, I- I ship out tomorrow, I just want-" Her fingers dug into his skin, to emphasise her point, "No, I need you to make this unforgettable,” La’an told him, she knew it was a lot of pressure to put on a man, but she needed him to rock her world. She needed something to hold onto in the darkest hours.

To remember the few good memories that she had in her short-lived life, to remember how to feel something other pain, anger and fear. His expression was one of understanding even as his eyes darkened with arousal at the challenge she’d laid at his feet.

“I can do that,” he promised her, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a condom he’d taken from the host upon entry. His contraception shot was up to date, as he was sure hers was given she’d just told him in a roundabout way she was Starfleet. But one had to take extra precautions. “But you haven’t told me your name,” he stated.

“It’s Vanessa,” she lied, it didn't suit her, but Spock didn't question it as she like him had her reasons for hiding. He might have given his identity but he wasn't going to push her for hers. Especially not as she unzipped his pants and wrapped her fingers around his cock. Spock could barely breathe, his cock ached badly as she stroked him and then swirled a finger over his swollen tip. “You’re so hard,” she whispered impressively, she licked her lips in anticipation.

“You are fucking beautiful,” he rasped out, he tore the condom wrapper and carefully rolled the condom onto his throbbing length. He watched as she slipped her hands underneath her skirt and peeled off her dark green knickers and stuffed them into the back pocket of his pants. 

“Something to remember me by," she gave a cheeky smile, "No foreplay,” she ordered, she wrapped her arms around his neck. 

So, instead he gave her what she asked as he gripped her ass and lifted her up. In normal proceedings such as these, Spock enjoyed a little foreplay. He would’ve loved to have dropped to his knees and lick and nip her pussy until she was soaking wet and begging for him.

But Vanessa or whatever her real name was, didn’t seem interested in that. He realised why as he slowly slid his cock deep inside her and found himself surrounded by her tight, hot, soaked pussy. 

“You feel incredible,” Spock told her, he buried his face in the crook of her neck. He groaned as her inner muscles clenched him in response. He had to rely on all his self-control and strength to not remain upright and not pass out from how incredible she felt. 

“Fuck me already,” She whispered hotly in his ear, when she licked she shell of his ear again and nipped his ear lobe, he lost all control. He started to thrust, plunging his cock into her as hard and fast as he could. 

There was no stopping it, it was a moment of desperation to cling onto someone and feel alive, to be lost in something other than the reality they lived in. To just feel free and act on a moment of crazy, blind uncontrollable lust without the constrictions of reality or social obligation. They both knew this wasn’t forever, they’d probably never see each other again, it felt freeing to let go and just be. Everything about her, and this moment was exactly what he needed and more.

“Yes, oh fuck, Spock!” La’an cried out as she clutched onto him as he fucked her rough and wild against the wall. She loved every second of it. His raspy grunts mixed in with her soft moans, he gripped her ass tightly and angled her body just so that when his cock brushed over her clit every time he withdrew and thrust into her. 

He bent down and kissed her senseless, while he continued to thrust as deep as he could go. His mouth swallowed her cry of pleasure as her orgasm exploded out of her. Her fingers dug into the skin of his neck and shoulders, her pussy clamped down on his cock, she drenched him.

Spock pulled out of the kiss, the agonising of with the pleasure tore through him was too much. He toppled over the edge with her into bliss. His mind and body were at one, he could think of nothing more than the woman in his arms and what had passed between them, the beautiful silence. It was everything he needed, he knew she felt the same as they lingered in the moment.

They stayed there for a long moment, leaning against the wall, their breaths came out ragged, their hearts beating fast as they came down from the high. Spock fought the urge to keep holding her when she slowly released him. He had to remind himself that this was just a moment, not forever. The feelings he felt for a woman he’d known for all of 10 minutes were profound.

La’an stood on shaky legs, hell, her whole body was trembling and quivering in the aftershocks of pleasure. He’d delivered on his promise, he had turned her world upside down and given the most intense orgasm of her life. It almost didn’t seem fair to leave him but she had to. She could feel herself becoming attached to the notion of staying. They were at war, one she’d most likely not survive. She wanted to be a good memory, to leave on a high note. She ran a trembling hand through her hair. She smiled at him, the euphoria of what he’d given her would stay forever etched in her mind and bones.

“We-”

“Thank you,” La’an said, she cut him off as she pulled him down and kissed him with everything that was left in her. Her desperation to live, her passion and what little she knew of love. Just as he was about to hold on to tight. She pulled away and opened the door and slipped back into the club before she changed her mind and stayed.

#spock x la'an #la'an x spock #spocklaan #spocklaan au #spock #star trek #star trek snw #star trek strange new worlds #star trek: strange new worlds #star trek: snw #sexy enterprise bingo

[wulvert]

i sent an ask earlier about a triptrack movie

yes red would have a motorcycle at some point - maybe stole it from some loser or it could just be something cool he has - and his mask would actually be a motorcycle helmet - also tex would be so annoying to ride on a motorcylce with lmao hed be so distracting

i know that we like people who look stupid but pre-sunburn red in a black leather jacket for a flashbackor whatever? mmmmmmmmm

i personally am not a big fan of sunburnt red - i am a tumblr sexyman lover forever - so if he got his hair back and maybe had a bunch of scars instead of a sunburn that would be pretty marketable - i just hate his sunburn lmao idrk why

red shouldve kept his disguise jacket it looked awesome on him idk why - texs disguise shouldve been one of those sun dresses and a floppy hat lol

imagine tex and red running through the glass city from the feds but stopping to take a photo next to a headline about them as criminals - red in sparkly makeup and some kind of whore outfit and tex wearing a unicorn onesie for no reason? slay

instead of the train stopping during the fight with shae, what if tex and shae fought on top of the moving train - shae knocks tex and red off the train at one point

i know tex cant eat but what if he could drink things? ensues red dragging tex to a random bar for a break idk? - even if tex doesnt like music 0r loud stuff he could at least enjoy dancing with red or wwhatever

terry could have a massive dangerous transformation scene where his hands turn into saw blades or something and he his a big mouth full of incredibly sharp teeth idrk

toad could look a little less diseased - maybe shorter hair and less sweat? - and use the science of eels to power his robot creations

also red and tex jumping off a building to avoid the feds and basically skydiving lives rent free in my head

while lost in the desert red and tex come across an oasis and maybe do some swimming??? i just want a beach episode man

ms tarantula being a cyborg like shae could be cool idk why

terry being scared of possum lmao

tex and red run into mits and mouse at the roller rink - mits and mouse spinning each other on skated while starting an insane shoot out with ak47s while tex and red skate and dodge while also drinking slushees

tex vs toad would rock as a finale - imagine toad using eel dna to transform/bioengineer himself as a way to prove to tex that tex is inferior due to being artirficial

i really dont know im just thinking about them

edit: reading this back i think i came off as a bit too much of a hater IM SORRY ITS HARD 2 CONVEY TONE OVER TEXT))

...................................eyes glazed over at hating sunburnt red im ngl, I don't rly care if he's less marketable- I have no interest in giving him his old face back after triptrack either I much prefer him being at peace with the way he looks. him having the minor scarring of a cowardly phantom of the opera adaptation would be lame, doesn't rly drive home the pain he's in at the moment with him still needing to apply antiseptic and bandages. I dont think he physically looks stupid either its just the clothes he's wearing atm.- wait instead of a sunburn? the sunburns reinforced by the worldbuilding i think itd be a missed opportunity to not have it be caused by the sun.

also these days tumblr sexymen make me feel physically ill- I can barely stand drawing tex's abs. the green jacket muddled their opposing colour schemes, it needed to die.

bc red would die trains are fast.- 2 be clear i dont like the shae fight i dont like a lot of triptrack, but for that to happen red would fly away, tex would immediately then also fly away- leaving shae presumably completely fine, not leaving you with anything about the sun- or, she's not fine, bleeds- passes out and dies, which rip and red would also die. he can take broken ribs but hes not train proof shae's head isnt train proof either.

terry isnt built to murder ppl hes a bouncer at best so it wouldnt rly make sense. he does have a mouth though i mentioned this, its more like a toothless puppet mouth though.

😞 why would you make him less sweaty 😞 thats his whole appeal. 😞also an eel robot that would be animal abuse 2 him and he doesnt support that- dont know how her being a cyborg would come up but way more acceptable than less sweaty eel

personally i like possum never being mentioned

I rly need to get toads arc over with so he can beat the being anything other than a sweaty middle aged guy with multiple untreated anxiety disorders, allegations.

there are a lot of changes i wanna make to triptrack dont get me wrong. but i think we have different ideas of my dudes, i hope i didnt come off as too much of a hater tho

#asks

[marine-indie-gal]

Ok, so little Unpopular Opinion to say the least, but I actually do like The Super Mario Bros Movie with Bob Hoskins (even though most of the Movie's Plots were indeed Shitty and that some of the Character Designs look absolutely nothing like the Original Characters) but what I do like about it is how it takes up a little FairyTale Aestheic Realistic development but on how that despite most of the designs being inaccurate, I like other people's takes on Designs that are Quite Different for their own personal interpretations despite the New Mario Movie coming up which I am exicited to see. As far as I am indeed one of the Few Fans who actually liked the 90s Movie, I decided to put up a little spin around the SMG4 characters if they were in the 90s Movie Universe. Inspired by a Few Out there who have done their own personal takes on what Characters in a Different Media based on the Said Franchise would look like in a Different Style. Considering that the 90s Movie made its own versions on some of the Mario Characters different, I figure why not do the same with some of the SMG4 Characters if their own LA Movie Counterparts were to be different than the Originals.

Some Info About My Own Personal Takes:

Meggy - While not looking alike at all with the Cephalopod Humanoid Creatures that we are all familiar with, I wanted to make an attemption of Inklings and Octolings by making them more Merfolk-like with a little spit of some Alien features as if Merfolk Cephalopods look something like Water-themed Aliens that still resembles most Cephalopods in Marine Life (kinda like the Amphibian Man from "The Shape of Water" and other Sea Monsters). Granted, I wanted to make Meggy's Inkling form something like an Actual Cephalopod Mermaid with more Squid/Octo-Like features (she still has the ability to transform into a Squid whenever she can) and as for her Human form, I know it's not very Athlete-like, but just imagine that she's still the same Meggy who can kick ass like a total badass but can still go through her Mer-Squid form whenever she want too. Also, Yeah, the Inklings and Octolings in this AU (while being Merfolk instead of looking more Humanoid) have the ability to transform into Humans for disguises whenever they go on land (so techincally think of it as in AU where if Meggy never lost her Inkling form).

SMG4 and SMG3 - Eh, not much about these designs. Let's just say I sorta redesign the New Designs of them by making them look close to how Mario and Luigi are depicited in the '93 film but I used accepts of more of their Real-Life Counterparts considering those Guys are indeed their Main Avatars to their own Fictional Mario World. I also gave SMG3 a sockhead instead of a Plumber Hat.

Melony - Considering that the Zelda franchise has Fantasy aspects, I wanted to make Melony look more like those Elf/Fairy-types of Creatures considering that she was turned as a Human by the Fierce Deity Mask. Say that she's sorta of a Fairy type inspired by the Nymphs of Greco-Roman Mythology, I also wanted to add in some Pink Flowers in her Hair while making her Wear a Forest-Fairy themed dress like most Fairies in Folklore (minus the Wings). As for the Real Inspiration for the Ears and even the Eyes, I mainly went with one of the Cult 80s Classics, "The Dark Crystal" by making Melony be inspired by the Gelfling characters in that Franchise; https://darkcrystal.fandom.com/wiki/Gelfling Axol - As far as Artists go throughout the Years, I wanted to make Axol look like some 90s Artist who can still draw Characters and Comics. Despite being born in Inkopolis in SMG4 Canon, in the 90s Movieverse, I can imagine him being born from a Sailor Family who had a passion for Art and even moves to Japan just like how did in the Original Series (so needless to say I did kept the Japan part of his life but for his Birthplace since Inklings and Octolings are Merfolk in this AU, Axol would have to be born in a Family of his near the Ocean at his own Beachouse where Inklings and Octolings still roam around the Seas). I also gave him one piercing in one of his earrings and let's just say that the badges that he wears are Buttons of Classic Anime Icons (like Goku from Dragon Ball or Sailor Moon).

Boopkins - Considering that most of the Mushroom Kingdom residents in the 90s version look nothing like their own actual counterparts from the Game, I had to make Boopkins a Human just like how the '93 Movie went. I know that Fishy Boopkins is based off of Spike (considering that he does appear in the Movie) but I actually wanted to make Boopkins look different from Spike like he's his own Actual Character. I went with the Blonde Hair and Green Eyes to resemble how he looks, I also gave him a Shirt that has a Fish on it considering that he's a Sea Creature but he's still the Guy who bonds with Sea Creatures and Anime. Bob - Like the Original, he is a Garo but I tend to take some inspirations off of the Garo Master from the Zelda Franchise. So like how that the Movie Goombas are, I wanted to make Bob's species look even more different by having them look something like the Skeksis from "The Dark Crystal" (hint by that Bird face which looks something like a Plague Mask and even the Reptellien-like tail), I also took one accept from his New Design by having him wear a Bandana around his Neck. I also gave Bob some pupils that would make it look extra Creepy.

Tari - I wanted to make her look something like a 90s Gamer by the tell of the Gloves and even that Outfit (which has the Rubber Duck on it), I also gave her Brown Hair and Blue Eyes with some little Blue diet on her Short Hair to still resemble on how she actually looked. In an addition, I also gave her a Heart necklace to resemble her own kindness. Saiko - Since she's a Bad Girl judging by her own name which translates to "Psycho Bitch", I wanted to make her look more Punk-like with a Few More Spikes to resemble her own Style and even have a Skull wearing a Bowtie on her own Top Shirt. I also gave her a Pink Eyeshadow since Pink is her Main Color but has for her Hair diets, I cut them off and made most of her Hair more Pink and even replace the Bowties for the Pigtails with a Headband that has a Bow on her head (I also gave her a piercing on her Nose). Imagine her living on the Streets like she's part of some Punk Gang who's got a Weapon of a Baseball Bat instead of a Giant Hammer.

Swag and Chris - Ok so much like how that the Mario Bros are depicited in the Film to resemble their Original Counterparts, I wanted to do the same for both Swagmaster and Chris, only instead, they work as Police Offiers working at a Police Department but are still are Security Guards like how they are in the Original Series. Swag almost looks like the same as his OG Self but for Chris, I added an Eyepatch on his own Scared Eye cause I thought it would be cool and I also gave him a little Tattoo that's meant to resemble Black Fire if you can at least spot the Other Addition that I added in. Shroomy - Easy as peasy, I made him wear a Different Scout Outfit to resemble his OG Self, though for the Hair color, he's still a Redhead like Meggy but I also gave him some Freckles as a relfection to some of his Spots from his own Mushroom head but even the Hair Bangs is mainly the real reflection behind his Actual Mushroom head.

SMG4 (c) Luke and Kevin Lerdwichagul Super Mario Bros. Movie 1993 Film (c) Rocky Morton and Annabel Jankel Mario (c) Nintendo

#smg4 #supermarioglitchy4 #super mario bros movie #super mario bros 1993 #au #meggy #smg3 #melony #axol #boopkins #bob #tari #saiko #swagmaster #shroomy #chris gordman

[late-to-the-fandom]

Hallow's End Ember Court is fancy dress. There's some confusion about who's who. There's no prizes for guessing, but I'd still love to know if you do! Rated G for Happy Hallow's End Drabble. Read here on Ao3 for triggers and tags

"I confess, I am rather shocked," said the Maw Walker, her expressionless face belying her words. "I didn't expect Revendreth to embrace Hallow's End so readily."

"Oh, we Venthyr welcome any excuse for celebration!" exclaimed Duke Theotar. The candlelight emanating from the enormous carved pumpkins behind the Duke threw the shadow of his exuberant gesticulation across the uneven ground. "And any excuse for fancy dress!"

The "Mad" Duke fixed his comically large hat more securely atop his carefully arranged hair, and the Maw Walker smiled fondly. The expression cracked the perfect up-turned lines of painted black stitches that extended past her lips.

Renathal, watching, took another sip of tea. He was still deciding how he felt about her whole ensemble.

Costume courts were a beloved tradition in Revendreth, but they were usually an excuse to comport oneself as a dashing hero or specimen of exquisite beauty. Impressions of the Master were always popular, as a prime example of both*; although, Renathal noticed, with a critical glance around the courtyard, none of the Ember Court guests had been so bold. But apart from this obvious missing fixture, today's court contained the usual assortment of regally attired royalty and armored warriors customary to any Revendreth fancy dress event.

None whatsoever had chosen a disguise as unsettling as the Maw Walker's, with its eerily realistic stitches crisscrossing the planes of her exposed flesh. And it was causing a visible stir among the guests, many of whom stared openly at her whenever they passed Theotar's shaded tea corner.

"We seem to have quite a bit of lore in common," commented the Maw Walker, joining Renathal in surveying the rest of the courtyard over the rim of her undrunk tea. "I believe I recognise many of the costumes. Including yours."

She ran an appraising eye over the Dark Prince's uncharacteristic black clothes. Renathal, momentarily distracted, swept his cape out with a melodramatic flourish that made Maw Walker laugh behind her cup.

"So, you are familiar with the story?" said Renathal smugly.

"Yes, it was very popular at one time. Someone even set it to music, I think, although I never saw it performed. And .... I confess, I can't remember your character's name."

"Really? But he is the protagonist!" declared Renathal in mock offense. "The brilliant musician who, in spite of his disfigurement, wins the heart of the realm's most talented ingenue, and spends his mortal life together with her creating the music of the night!"

It was a well-practiced little soliloquy. Renathal had worn this costume - or a more elaborate version - many times before. Behind him, the Duke had the good grace to applaud appreciatively.

The Maw Walker blinked.

"Are you sure that's how it ends?" she asked.

"Quite sure," sniffed Renathal. "The story is a personal favourite of mine. I have read it many times." He sipped thoughtfully at his tea before venturing, "Why do you ask?"

"I've just .... never heard it told that way."

"How have you heard it?"

"Well..." The Maw Walker wet her lips in hesitation. "I thought .... the masked man - whoever you are - kidnapped the girl. And then she was rescued by her true love and left the masked man to die in a fire."

There was a gasp and a splash of liquid from behind them as Theotar fumbled the milk jug.

"Surely not!" he cried, his pinched face even more ashen than usual.

Renathal, too, looked shocked.

"I am afraid you must be mistaken," he said firmly, adjusting his white half-mask to sit better on his face. "He would never have done such a thing, I am certain. He was the hero of the story, after all."

"Perhaps I'm thinking of a different tale, then," the Maw Walker conceded. She glanced quickly around at the Duke for a change of topic. "But I'm sure I know who you are. I would recognise the top hat anywhere."

"Well, I should hope, he is quite the well-known figure," said Theotar, dabbing spilled milk from his bare chest with a white handkerchief. "The wise counselor who, through his clear wit and good sense, helped the little lost girl Alex find her way back to her own realm." He deposited the handkerchief onto Gubbins' tray and smiled. "After treating her to a delicious tea, of course."

The Maw Walker tilted her head, brow now furrowed. An unusual show of confusion on her typically blank face.

"I don't think that's right either," she said, shaking her head. "The girl's name wasn't Alex. And your character wasn't wise, he was -"

Renathal interrupted before the Maw Walker could finish.

"If it is a story, then how can it be right or wrong?" 

"Because it didn't happen that way!"

"It didn't happen at all," Renathal countered. "They are stories. How can one depiction of a fantasy be more or less right than another?"

The Maw Walker opened her mouth to argue further, paused, then closed it abruptly. Her eyes glazed over in thought, and she brought her teacup to her lips vaguely. Renathal watched her fight back a grimace at the taste.

"I suppose you have a point," the Maw Walker said finally. She gave Renathal a deep nod as if conceding victory, her loose and oddly coloured hair swinging forward across her face.

"Of course!" said Theotar, approaching with the sugar bowl. "Why, there are as many interpretations of stories as there are souls who tell them! And you must tell us your versions in full, sometime."

The Maw Walker smiled - that warm, affectionate smile she saved for the 'Mad' Duke - and dutifully bent her knees so the smaller Venthyr could stir sugar into her cup.

"I think your versions sound better, to be honest."

Privately, Renathal agreed, but thought it bad manners to say so out loud. Instead, he indicated the Maw Walker's ragged dress with a wave of his hand.

"But who are you supposed to be? I am afraid I do not recognise your ..." He searched for an appropriate word. "Attire."

"Oh, let me guess!" said Theotar excitedly. He thrust the sugar bowl at the waiting Gubbins, then stepped back to take in the full effect of the Maw Walker's disguise. "You are ... a Maldraxxus abomination?"

"What? No!" The Maw Walker tugged self-consciously at her patch-work dress. "I am -" She paused for a moment, then continued more firmly. "I am the brave and intelligent heroine of an old, beloved story, whose advice to her realm's leader was immediately heard and obeyed, and through which she managed to stop her realm from invading several others."

Her little speech did not have quite the effortless delivery of Renathal's, but Theotar still made a point of clapping politely.

"Oh, well done!"

The Maw Walker accepted his praise with a self-mocking curtsey. 

"And will your hair return to normal once court is over, or is it ... red for the foreseeable future?" Renathal inquired as casually as he could manage.

"It's just an illusion," assured the Maw Walker. "Unless you'd like me to keep it like this longer?"

She caught Renathal's eye and gave a small wink. 

"I think I prefer its natural shade," murmured Renathal. He hadn't meant the words to come out so low, not while anyone else was present, but he did enjoy watching the Maw Walker eyes darken. 

"Ah, just look at us," said Theotar fondly, stepping between his two dear friends and cutting neatly through the developing tension. "Three exceptional heroes! Exquisite examples of lives well lived and happily ended!"

The Maw Walker smiled wistfully. "On Hallow's End, at least."

* Shout out to my mate @shipping-through-eternity for inspiring this particular little head canon and letting me use it!

Read Part 12: Keys for All Occasions: Cicatrix | Visit the Masterpost

#fanfiction #prince renathal #Renathal x Maw Walker #renathal x maw walker #writing #my writing #revendreth #ember court #Hallow's End #Theotar #Fancy dress #costume contest #who's who #the maw walker #shadowlands #venthyr #wow fanfiction #world of warcraft #heroes of hallow's end #light & shadows

[justfor2am]

what a waste of a lovely night (roceit week 2022)

Day 2: dance/protect Premise: A masked ball is the perfect place to flirt and flit about with rich strangers you'll never meet again. Just don't be mad when it's your gentleman-in-waiting that you're swooning after. TWs: N/A Word Count: 1135 AO3

"Care for a dance, stranger?" That was the phrase of the night, it seemed. The biannual Citrine Gala was underway, and for a fun twist on what was otherwise doomed to be a boring, socialite-only event, its dress-code dictated two crucial rules: one, to bring an "unlikely" plus one, and two, to disguise your face.

Yes, a masquerade ball would certainly make things interesting this year. Of course, certain people couldn't help but stand out. You'd be a fool not to recognize the heir and eldest son of the Alestria family; never mind the fact that his suit had the family's crest pressed into his lapel (he would like the record to state this was against his request), most guests first noticed the grand portrait hanging over the mantel in the dance hall. It was his parents turn to host after all, so masked or not he was easy to find. It didn't help that he towered over the majority of the crowd, enough to make anyone intrigued and vying for a closer look. With sun-kissed skin and a delightful, messy toss of dark amber hair, the signature hue of the King himself, there was no mistaking him.

For the sake of the event, party-goers pretended not to know who he was, tried to speak casually to him, but the prince could spot a poor liar a mile away. It was a laugh that rang on for too long, or a second glance that turned into a third, and then a fourth. And in all the guffaw of pretending he wasn't a walking retirement fund, not a single soul had asked him to dance.

At least, until a stranger in a gilded ballgown strode forward, outstretching their hand, waiting for him to take it. "Care to join me?" they asked, a hand fan conveniently hiding what was left of their face, so that only their eyes could be clearly made out. They were honey colored, bright and sharp, but they also stirred something within the prince's chest, something warm and familiar.

He eyed over the stranger with intrigue. Namely, their dress did not seem to be of any famous designer like all the other guests; it was skillfully crafted, not one ruffle out of place, nor one stitch falling apart. But the fabric was cheap, not even a royal-grade seamstress could hide such an obvious fact. The hand fan, which at a first glance seemed to glimmer with jewels, at closer inspection seemed more like the work of shards of glass and glitter. Their shoes that clinked against the tile floor were dull, either a worn down heel or dress shoes, both odd for someone who carried themselves as though they were born suckling on a silver spoon.

The prince smiled, and took up the stranger's hand. Around the pair, a quiet roar of whispers erupted and were silenced within a single breath. "I would be delighted," he hummed, and the stranger's golden eyes crinkled, a secret smile hidden for just the two of them to hear. They clicked their fan shut, hanging it from its loop around their wrist in one easy motion.

Upon their hands they wore black, satin gloves (the only piece in their ensemble that seemed to be worth any real money), all the way up to their elbows that matched the accents of the dress, and hands that the prince first thought were dainty and pristine, felt svelte, yes, but also callused, work-worn in a way that tugged at the prince's heart and baffled his mind.

They smelled like fake money, and dressed like fake royalty.

And in spite of the questions racing through the prince's mind, they were all washed away when the stranger pulled him forward in a fluid motion until they were flush with one another, and lead him twirling across the dance floor. Whoever this stranger was, they were hellbent on putting the prince into the role of an admirer for the evening, and with a level of ease the prince did not think he was capable of, he allowed the other to dictate his night.

At some point the two abandoned the event, finding themselves wandering the garden as the hour grew close to midnight. The prince then posed a question: "And what might your name be?"

The stranger answered, "Well, that would defeat the point of the masks, wouldn't it?" They pulled their fan back out, hiding their expression from him.

The prince smiled, "And what does that matter? Tell me, where's your family from?"

Once more, but now with a soured tone, "I shouldn't say, I don't want to spoil our fun."

With a soft frown, "I only ask so that I might find you again."

The stranger paused, lowering their fan with slight amazement. "…And why would you want that?"

Instead of a reply, the prince first reached for the other's hand, running his fingertips lightly over their palm, feeling the calluses underneath the gentle fabric. "So that I might know a way to spare you from your labors. You dance far too wonderfully to have hands like this."

The stranger smiled, lifting their fan once more. "My prince, you won't know me unless I want to be known. But rest assured, you will see me again."

With a startled look, "you knew who I was? What gave it away?" he asked, a pout on his lips, and the stranger couldn't help but laugh.

"My prince, you still haven't learned how to waltz properly. I would have spotted your lopsided gait a league away," they snickered, and the prince grew even more lost.

"How would you even know that? Who are you, really, I need to know!"

"Ah, there it is," they smiled tiredly, tugging their hand away and turning neatly on their heel back towards the party. "That impatient, curious mind of yours. Honestly, if you'd spent even half the night thinking through the clues I've left you instead of tripping all over me, you'd have known my name by now."

"But—" The stranger tutted, cutting the prince off. "None of that now. If you haven't found me out now, then I doubt you ever will." And if there was a touch of bitterness in their voice, they chose to ignore it. "Perhaps, even, it is better that you don't."

"Goodnight, Roman," they said quietly, walking off into the night with false merriment in their steps, and a simmering regret in their heart. What were they to do? They was his gentleman-in-waiting, the "help", nothing more. A glorified personal servant. Never able to rise above their role, forget courting a member of the royal family.

As for the prince, the gears clicked slowly in his head as the familiar stranger grew distant, and as his jaw dropped, his heart soared. "… Janus?"

#roceitweek2022 #roman sanders #janus sanders #roceit #justfor2am #justfor2fics #justfor2writings

[archonate-seorwen]

In Medias Res: A KOTOR Fanfiction - Chapter One

The Endar Spire had remained stationary for several days. Where I stood, motionless, I could see the Commander of the ship, Colonel Tavhir. He was pacing nervously along one of the many docking bays of the Republican cruiser, with his head down. The Colonel was a tall, slender man. His greying hair, military cut, infused the man with the glow of age and experience. Tavhir was a highly respected soldier, one of a small caste of fighters who no longer needed to prove their worth. However, Tavhir could not hope for any further advancement, as his rather straightforward personality had already offended Republic high officials on numerous occasions. But it was well known that the Colonel was not interested in being promoted or not; all that mattered was being given the opportunity to express his views. Yet his men knew that he could not mask his frustration with the fact that he could not act as he liked.

The present day was one of those days when Tavhir had to practice self-restraint. The Republic had certainly given the Colonel the most unbearable order of his entire career.

Not far from him stood one of his men, his hands clasped behind his back. The man was wearing a thick pearly orange jacket, with dark trousers that finished with a pair of black boots. The soldier, probably in his mid-forties, also wore a rather remarkable beard and short, albeit relatively full, brown hair. He was eyeing his colonel, who kept coming and going in response to his own anxiety.

Right behind the two individuals stood a group of about thirty soldiers arranged in four rows, clad in full Republican armour. They were the brand new garrison to which I had been assigned at the very last moment; following two months of training on Coruscant, I had been sent to the Hammerhead cruiser Endar Spire to serve as a translator and interpreter for the garrison that was apparently going to accompany Bastila Shan on some unknown journey. Anyway, at this point, I was staying in the third row. We were all maintained in complete silence several metres away from our two leaders, although we could all clearly hear the grunts of the very bitter Commander.

« They're late. » The Colonel snarled, only getting our silence in reply.

« They're late. » He repeated even more sharply. « Carth ! » He barked, looking up at the man in the orange jacket.

« Yes, they are likely to be late, Sir. » Carth rectified.

« They dared to board and eject me from my own ship, forcing me to abandon my men, and they don't even have the decency to be on time! »

« Commander, as you know, this is a temporary measure. You have not been dismissed. » Onasi added, in a disguised attempt to comfort his superior.

« That' s fortunate. Without that, believe me, I would have worked hard to make her life impossible! That girl would have had a hard time! »

« She doesn't need that to get herself into trouble. She's a Jedi after all. She knows nothing about military work. If you want your men back in the same condition as you left them, you'll have to be more gentle with her. »

« That's why I'm relying on your professionalism, Lieutenant. You have qualities in this matter that I readily admit are lacking. » Tavhir finished.

Carth nodded, agreeing with the Commander's last words.

An alarm rang out. The officers looked up into the electromagnetic field of the very large docking bay, which revealed the first small shuttle slowly making its way towards the cruiser from the distance. Tavhir frowned. Things didn't seem to be going as planned; there had to be two shuttles. Carth glanced over at us. We were not making a move, as we had been ordered to. Then he glanced back at his superior, who looked like he was about to implode. The shuttle broke through the energy field and landed smoothly several hundred meters from the officers. The ship's ramp deployed violently and crashed onto the hangar floor with a deafening sound. Two people stepped out, both dressed in standard Republican officer attire. Tavhir sighed and, with a brief wave of his hand, ordered his Lieutenant to follow him and join the other two newcomers. Carth complied, and the pair walked for a few seconds before they came to face the newly arrived guests.

« Colonel Tavhir, Lieutenant Onasi. » The first of them greeted. « We apologise for the delay, as well as the confusion over the handover of the Endar Spire. »

« Why? Is there another problem? » Tavhir questioned, trying his best to restrict his exasperation.

« Colonel, as you can see, the Jedi shuttle is still away. »

« Good thing you're here to point that out... Novice. » avhir said ironically, insisting on the much lower rank of the man facing him. The latter resumed with embarrassment:

« We've been told that the shuttle will board the Endar Spire in approximately fifteen minutes. »

« Good. Let's wait then. » The Colonel stated, his eyes locked on the Novice, who looked increasingly uncomfortable.

« Colonel. I'm sorry, but you must leave the cruiser. We must get you back aboard the Arbiter as soon as possible. »

Tavhir made no reply at first. Carth displayed a nervous, uneasy pout. This was not going to be fun.

« Please give me a better understanding, will you? » The Colonel demanded in a falsely benevolent tone. « Please give me a better understanding, will you? " The Colonel demanded in a falsely benevolent tone. "You're telling me that I have to vacate my ship and my men when my successor has not even arrived yet? You're asking me to leave my cruiser without any commander? »

« Did you not appoint a quartermaster, as Admiral Dodonna ordered you to? » The other man - who had been silent until then - retorted annoyingly. Tavhir glared at him, then answered:

« Lieutenant Carth Onasi is my quartermaster. And who are you? » The Colonel questioned as he scanned the man's jacket, certainly in search of some military insignia.

« Dreshan Norr, Senator of the Taris system. I am well aware of the measures recently taken by the Admiral, who has entrusted me with the supervision of this handover. You are therefore ordered to obey, Tavhir. The Jedi have experienced a minor setback, which is in no way Commander Shan's fault. »

Tavhir looked to be gritting his teeth as he listened to these very last words. There was no option. These were Dodonna's orders. Even though it was widely known that he did not always share his Admiral's views, he still held her in deep respect. She had always proved herself worthy of her rank. He had to trust her.

The man sighed, then quietly unclasped his badge and handed it to the Senator. He gave Carth a cordial look, before heading for the shuttle. The Senator and the Novice watched him, as if worried that the officer might change his mind. Once he had boarded the shuttle, the Senator ordered the Novice to join him in the ship. Norr then addressed Carth, and handed him the Colonel's insignia:

« We must leave. You will give this to Commander Shan. Don't worry, she will be here very soon. Before I leave, I will notify her that she will have to speak to you. Our apologies for the chaotic handover. »

« Thank you Senator. » The Lieutenant simply replied.

Norr nodded respectfully to the very temporary head of the cruiser, then joined the shuttle, which took off immediately with Tavhir on board. One minute passed. Carth Onasi came to us, still waiting right behind him. He then called out:

« Ladies and gentlemen, please get ready to welcome your new Commander. Hold your positions. »

We all remained in silence, but some of us wiggled around a bit, so that we could get into a proper posture to meet the new Commander.

There was not long to wait. As Norr had said, the Jedi shuttle appeared promptly and landed smoothly. Once again, the ramp lowered heavily onto the hangar floor, and two people emerged: a man and a woman, both dressed in pale brown robes. They moved with lightness. Carth looked almost mesmerised by the sight of these two individuals. So did I. Most of us were used to the military roughness and brutality of Tavhir; a touch of delicacy was most welcome. The pair paused at the foot of the ramp, and waited for the third and last person, finally showing up, who stepped off the ship. When she reached the very bottom of the ramp, this last person took the lead and headed with inspiring determination towards Carth Onasi, examining her without realising it.

So there she was - Bastila Shan, the new Commander of the cruiser, Tavhir's nightmare. Indeed, everyone here was familiar with the young woman. Bastila Shan was, in her own field, a war hero. Her almost unique power of Battle Meditation had allowed the Republic to postpone again and again the fatal outcome of that war against the Empire of Darth Malak. Bastila Shan's Battle Meditation restored the strength and resolve of allied forces, while demoralising enemy troops. The power was already known to the Jedi, but the exceptional thing was that Bastila Shan was undoubtedly the most gifted user in the history of the Jedi Order, and even among the very few who could master it. Not to mention her stunning victory over Darth Revan during their confrontation on the latter's ship. Tavhir's hostile reaction to the decision to leave the Endar Spire under the command of a young, untrained Jedi was understandable, but it was hard not to feel profound respect and even gratitude for the woman.

I noted that Carth Onasi still remained perfectly motionless. He still appeared hypnotised by the arrival of the Jedi. Suddenly, as if he had just woken up from his contemplative mood, the Lieutenant hurried on, and awkwardly followed the lead of the three newcomers, already well on their way to him. I could perceive in him a trace of nervousness. This was no time to draw the attention of his future superior, who just happened to have the reputation of being rather unpleasant.

« Lieutenant Carth Onasi, I suppose? » The young woman asked, giving no clue about her state of mind.

« Himself, Madam. Himself, Madam. I would like to welcome the three of you to the Endar Spire. And may I immediately deliver to you the insignia of Command of the cruiser. »

Carth solemnly handed the small item that was hanging on Tavhir's jacket a moment ago. Bastila Shan narrowed her eyes at the badge, grabbed it and slipped it into a pocket under her Jedi robes.

« Thank you. » She spoke coldly without making eye contact with Carth, causing him to shudder uneasily. Bastila cast a glance towards our garrison, positioned behind Carth. A few seconds passed before she resumed in an impatient voice:

« Well? Have you planned to be staring into my eyes all night? What's next, Lieutenant. »

Carth Onasi now held the Jedi's gaze with defiance. The man looked to be channeling a boiling anger deep inside him, and he went on:

« Commander, if you don't mind, I'd like to introduce you to this group of soldiers, specially selected to assist and protect you. »

Carth Onasi motioned for the young woman to follow him, which she did. All of us were perfectly still. At least, most of us were. From my position, I couldn't help but stare at the Jedi. " There she is..." I thought, my eyes firmly locked on the famous young woman. Although the visibility was partially obstructed by my fellow shipmates from the other two ranks, I was able to get a clear view of the Jedi. Like her colleagues, Bastila Shan wore a brown robe. The classic Jedi outfit. In her gestures and movements, the woman sometimes gave a glimpse of her illustrious double-bladed lightsaber, attached to her belt. An oddity. Very few Jedi tried their hand at such a weapon, and Bastila Shan was a renowned duelist. I couldn't help but smile in fascination. However, I was jolted out of my reverie by an indiscreet clearing of throat. I lifted my head and realised that the unpleasant noise was coming from my companion on my right, who was standing still but trying to get me to regain a concentration worthy of such a moment. But I failed to do anything that needed to be done in response. Rather than recovering my posture and pretending nothing had happened, I turned my head briskly towards my comrade, betraying my distraction even more for all to see. My superiors included. Noticing that my colleague had not broken out of his expected posture, I turned my gaze back to the Lieutenant and the Jedi. They were glaring at me, especially Onasi. Bastila Shan took a step towards us and addressed me in a chilling voice:

« Come here. » She ordered harshly.

I was stunned by the request and cast a doubtful glance at the Lieutenant, who said dryly:

« You have been given an order, Recruit. »

So I left my position quietly, slipped through the ranks, and took place before the superiors. Commander Shan looked at me with uncommon gravity.

« I'm going to have a bad time. » I thought.

The young woman was examining me. What could she be watching so intently? I was a man, like the others. Even though, as I glanced at Carth Onasi, I realised I had a much more massive stature. Standing at more than six feet tall and with my broad shoulders, I dominated my superiors. Besides that point, I was neither better nor worse than anyone else. The only uniqueness was perhaps my dark brown hair, which I wore quite long, though carefully tied back for the occasion. Not being a fully qualified soldier, and indeed at that time not hired for any fighting skills, I was allowed to enjoy this extravagance.

« Declare your identity to the Commander. » Carth continued, increasingly annoyed. The Jedi didn't look away from me.

« Recruit Corem Galhor, Commander. »

« Where were you assigned before you were sent to the Endar Spire, Recruit? » Bastila Shan asked, in her curious accent.

Carth Onasi gave me no chance to speak, as he cut me off:

« Madam, he is the translator you requested. He's not from the military, he's not very familiar with the rules and procedures. » The man defended himself to the Commander.

Bastila glanced coldly at the Lieutenant, wordlessly. Then she turned her attention back to me.

« Where were you assigned before you were sent to the Endar Spire ? » She asked again.

« I was working at the Republic Embassy on Onderon. I was there for about four months before I was assigned here. There, I had the opportunity to work closely with the royal authorities, and I... »

« I didn't ask for so much, Recruit. » Bastila Shan interrupted curtly, looking almost angry now. « We know all about what you were about to say. Here, there will be no such thing as "royal authority". Just do what you are instructed. And for the time being, what is required of you is to stand still in your place in the third row. You are a brainy person, aren't you? This is not an intellectually demanding task, is it? » The Jedi concluded in a particularly condescending tone, glaring at me.

I was not sure how to react. I thought the young woman's attitude excessive, to say the least, but I knew that I and my fellow soldiers were expected to behave flawlessly. I had just undermined the reputation of an elite corps. Nevertheless, I could not help but feel that she had taken a dislike to me.

« Back to your place, Recruit. » The Jedi ordered haughtily.

I complied without delay and walked back to my original position. Unexpectedly in such a situation, Bastila Shan gave a simple nod to Carth Onasi and left the hangar without even saying a word to her garrison. The officer watched her in awe; he surely wasn't approving such provocative behaviour.

« This is not going to be a smooth collaboration. » The Lieutenant said quietly, before ordering us to break ranks and leave the hangar.

« Well, buddy. That must not have been a pleasant experience ! Were you leering at your Commander »

Seated on one of the benches of the common room, I exhaled an exasperated gasp at the mocking comment of my companion next to me.

« Yeah, that's it. I felt the need to be humiliated today. I am satisfied. » I ironically replied.

« Well, I must admit that she is much more enjoyable to the eye than that old Tavhir. » My colleague went on, slumping down a little more on the bench, feigning that he had not been listening to me.

« Just keep your mouth shut, Harden. » Another of my companions, currently occupying a table facing us, snapped sharply. She laid down a data pad that she was browsing before stepping into our discussion, then she resumed:

« This woman has no consideration for us. She has barely even taken a glance at any of us! We are nothing but cannon fodder to her, entirely devoted to the protection of her holy person! Come on, you guys, for once, switch on your brain! »

« You're not being fair, Hannah. » Harden suddenly retorted with gravity. « You think we're just rutting monkeys, simply because of some jokes. » He added rather harshly. I watched him stand up and walk to the table where Hannah was sitting.

He paused for a moment, observing his colleague with an air of disappointment, then, a teasing smile on his lips, he whispered in her ear: « With the robe she was wearing, it was absolutely impossible to get even a glimpse of the lady's bottom. »

« You're pathetic. » Hannah responded casually. Harden chuckled, left his colleagues and headed for the refectory.

I got up to join the woman, who could hardly get back to her reading after this low-level talk. Once I had settled into a chair, I spoke up:

« I am sorry for embarrassing you all. » I confessed. « It was just weird to see this woman. We've been hearing so many stories about her. I found her presence distracting. It was like standing in front of a fictional character: everybody keeps talking about her, but you can't really think that you'll ever cross paths with her. »

Hannah lifted her eyes from her data pad and stared at me intently.

« It felt a bit weird to me too ». The young woman admitted in return. « I can hardly stand being under her command. I think she's a detestable person. But I can't help looking at her with envy. »

I observed my friend with understanding.

« I think I might be a bit jealous, actually. I'm definitely older than her, and what can I possibly have to say? She's the brightest student in the Order. We all certainly owe her our lives, even though we don't even know her. Besides, the little we've just been able to experience hasn't given anyone any desire to know more about her. It's infuriating. »

« You belong to a unique corps of elite soldiers, Hannah. You've proven yourself to be at least as essential as that harassing harpy in this war... And you have a wonderful family waiting for you, may I remind you. Don't you dare forget them. There's no way she can ever say the same. »

The words of kindness I had just spoken appeared to produce an almost euphoric effect on my friend. The woman smiled tenderly at the mention of her family: her husband, her two daughters, who were her reason for being. It was true that Bastila Shan would never be able to compete on that ground. « Besides, even if she were allowed, who would ever want her? » Hannah said sweetly, letting out a nervous laugh, to which I replied, amused.

« I would not be the one taking such a risk. » I added even more lively, intensifying Hannah's laughter.

« Thank you Corem. » The young woman said gratefully. « It is just a hard time for us. We'll certainly be laughing about it when it's over. »

« Yes, that's for sure. » I told her with a grin.

Suddendly, another soldier burst in, and briskly declared :

« Don't hang around here any longer, or you won't be allowed to eat tonight! »

« We are on our way, Lieutenant Ulgo. » The young woman replied reassuringly.

I stood up and placed a hand on Hannah's shoulder:

« Come on, let's go. »

Hannah nodded, laid down the report she was still holding in her hands and walked with me to the refectory, where all the rest of the garrison was gathered.

The hall was huge. Several hundred people could be seated in it, all arranged by unit. I was sitting with my colleagues for about twenty minutes. I was not particularly interested in their discussions. The general hubbub was not really helping me to concentrate on what everyone was saying, and I was paying much more attention to what was going on at the leadership table, a few metres away from ours. There I could actually see Lieutenant Carth Onasi, Commander Bastila Shan and the two other Jedi accompanying her, all seated at the table.

I paused again and took full advantage of the time to observe the Jedi. She had obviously replaced her Jedi robes with the dark, slim-fitting uniform of the Republic's general officers, which, I readily admitted, gave the young woman a convincing presence. Nevertheless, I wondered whether this choice of clothing was a demonstration of her respect for her rank and for the men in her charge, or whether it was another attempt at provocation.

A Commander could not be blamed for dressing up as a Commander.

Then I focused on the Jedi's face. Harden, though his primitive male behaviour greatly undermined the quality of his arguments, was not mistaken: Bastila Shan was a truly beautiful woman. She was wearing her dark brown hair tightly tied in a single bun at the back of her head, which gave me ample opportunity to study her features. They were fine, drawn with the greatest care and delicacy. But the most remarkable thing was undoubtedly her eyes. Two large, almost opaline grey eyes topped by meticulously drawn dark eyebrows. Nothing to do with mine, which were a common, boring brown. I was fascinated. Not only by the woman's eyes in themselves, but by the intelligence emanating from her gaze. Admittedly, Bastila Shan had shown herself in an unflattering light so far, but there was no denying that, despite her cold disposition, she had a particularly serious presentation.

I was suddenly snapped out of my contemplation by the woman herself, who stood up and, after politely greeting Carth, left the dining hall with the other two Jedi.

« Told you it was a pretty piece. »

Harden said, elbowing me playfully. It took me a few seconds to be sure of what I had just heard.

« I don't see it that way. » I responded in a certain absence. « I find in her a sort of elegance that I've rarely seen in anyone else. »

« Mmh. » Harden pronounced, uncon. Ten seconds or so passed.

« She did rebuke you elegantly earlier. » He eventually commented, restraining himself from laughing.

I cast my eyes over my companion and winked in disapproval. I breathed deeply, and made my way away from the table, heading for the quarters, under Harden's bewildered eye.

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

Chapter Two here!

#In Medias Res A KOTOR Fanfiction #kotor 1 #kotor #star wars #fanfic #fanfiction #revan #darth revan #darth malak #bastila shan #ebon hawk #carth onasi #mission vao #knights of the old republic #jolee bindo #juhani #t3 m4 #hk 47 #canderous ordo #male revan #the force #star wars fanfiction #zaalbar #jedi council #sith lord #old republic

[kandadiff]

Taste of Venom : The Ball

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

I managed to slip in fairly unnoticed into the ornate party. Everyone was dressed in ball gowns or elaborate suits with equally baroque masks. Music played loudly and waiters went from table to table or person to person with food or drinks. Guards surrounded the perimeter making sure those who were guests to the house didn't wander off into the house.

I was sort of grateful people didn't immediately recognize me due to the masks so it gave me a second to grab a drink and think over Papa Legba's word. 'Half Alive.' How can someone be half alive? Were you hurt and almost dead? Where were you? Marthas words echoed in my head. She had found out I went to go see the 'witch woman' as she called them. She was busy cooking when I told her making her promise not to tell Negan. He wouldn't believe in it or worse would insist in coming. 'Don't believe in those witch woman. Nothing good comes from asking about the dark arts'. Her words fought with the words Papa said to me. I was so deep in thought that I jumped when I felt hands pan my waist.

"Where'd you go today?" Negan's voice whispered in my ear, the smell of perfume lingering on him. Seemed to happen a lot lately. He placed a small peck on my cheek and eyed what I was drinking. "I didn't see you at all today." Before I could lie I eyed his face through his mask. "You didn't go to the salon or Arianna's grave. The car says you went to brightmoore. Why?"

I turned to fully look at him "You're still tracking me?" I scoffed "I thought we were way past that."

"Theres nothing in brightmoore but fucking bums and fucking dealers. Your eyes aren't dilated and the shoes on your feet are worth more than those fucks have seen in their life. Why were you there?" He sighed "Talking with the witch women?" My eyes widened and he put up his hand so I wouldn't interrupt him. "I know you miss her, but it has been three fucking years, princess. I see your fucking life being paused because of her death. You said it yourself- shes dead, you know it and I know it. Let Shawn and Edward be lost in their fucking delusions and hopes - you and I know the truth. Its time you move on." He motioned around us. "I made this whole shit for you, enjoy it and enough with the fucking attitude." I rolled my eyes and he pinched my cheek under my mask. "Come on all your friends are here. I even got that bastard to let the little Russian out of the cage for you." I couldn't help but smile and he smirked at me, placing a quick kiss on my cheek.

"🌶I can't wait until we can kill him." I admitted looking around for her. He nodded and pushed me out into the party.

I sighed and moved around attempting to find Katya. It wasn't hard, even though she had been separated from me for about 2 years on and off - I recognized her blonde mop of hair despite being disguised by her baby pink mask. I threw my arms around her. "Kat!"

She hugged me back tightly wincing when I accident brushed against her ribs. Her eyes shot to V who was standing not to far away, watching. He was always watching. "How are you?" She asked, the smile on her face not quite reaching her eyes. "I missed you, I wish I could have went to breakfast this morning but-"

"Its okay." I brush it off "How are your sisters?" Katya's face always lit up when talking about her family. We stood there for a while chatting about her sisters and father, gently grazing the subject of children.

"He wants them." she sighed nursing her drink "He wants a big family..." she trailed off.

"Do you?"

She looked at me, then glanced at him and gave me a half-assed nod. "Its not like I can put it off for much longer. He always gets what he wants anyway." She looked up at the ceiling, the painted angels smiling down at her. "But then again - hearing how marcel is now... maybe it would have been the same if I stayed."

"Marcel would never hurt people he loves." I said matter of fact rubbing her back. She sighed and I looked at V, chatting with GD. "I can't say the same for him."

"What a fine man I married." She said under her breath.

"He's no man." I reminded her. "But he will get his day - very soon."

"Kat!" V called over a big smile on his face. As though trying to hide what he truly was from me. But I knew better. I grew up surrounded by monsters of different shapes and forms - hell, I even lived with one now and I was not blind to them. But I smiled back at him. "Happy birthday, kay! You look great!" I nodded at him "Can I just borrow my wife? I need to settle a bet with G."

"Sure." he took Katya by her hand and moved towards G and I moved toward the party. I mingled and danced and greeted and tried to enjoy myself but eventually I took a break in the hall. Retiring exhausted to the quiet library.

"Theres a man in the libabry." One of the guards said as I approached the wooden doors, carved with mythological figures. "Should I tell him to leave?" I thought for a moment opening the libabry door and a smile barely notable smile washed over me. I shook my head.

"I'm surprise you came." I sighed and he turned and let out a small sarcastic chuckle.

"Happy birthday." He said unenthusiasticly. "I want to talk."

"Fine." I huffed and turned to the guard. "Please make sure me and this asshole don't get interrupted for what 10 minutes."

"At least half an hour sunshine, just cause its your birthday doesn't mean we don't have to have a chat." I rolled my eyes and the guard nodded closing the door behind us.

I waited until I heard the guards moving away and I locked the door. Before turning and seeing his grimace turn into a smile. He held out his hands and I ran to him, jumping onto him and wrapping my arms around his neck. I pressed my forehead to his. "What are you doing here? I wasn't supposed to see you until tomorrow. Is did you bring Robin here too?"

"I missed you too, sunshine." He said pressing his lips to mine. "Happy Birthday." I smiled into his kiss and pressed me closer to him. "I did bring him and I told him he better stay." I sighed and untangled myself from him. Since you went missing - Robin and I had a bit of a rift. J being the cause of it - he wanted his children back with him with the promise of him helping us find you. I refused and Robin didn't - now Lloyd was practically the only bridge I had to my brother. Which brought us closer as well until a couple months Aho it crossed a line and it was still crossing that line. "I'm sorry, baby doll." He said and I nod, shrugging and sitting on the couch. "Is thats what was bothering you?" he asked "I noticed you earlier."

"No I had ... another dream." I sigh placing my mask on the table and playing with the fabric of my dress. "Adi is dead, her body is lost in the ocean and no one wants to hear it." He nodded. "Everyone argued with me this morning when I told them. No one except Makayla believed me. It was weird - Robin always believed me but not having him around..." He repeated that he believed me. I gave him a weak smile. "But now I don't have him anymore and he believes shes still alive. You know the fight made me do something- stupid today." He placed his arm around me, playing with the curls of my hair. "I went to brightmoore."

"Wait a minute... what did you just say?" He removed his hand from my hair and fully turned to me. His big blue eyes digging into mine and I thought about Papa for a moment. "You went to those women? Alone?" I nodded not looking at him. "What the hell? You know how dangerous that is, Kay. Why didn't you tell me? They rarely do things looking out for you. I told you I knew a few people."

"I don'r have time for that." I sighed. "I need to know if she is alive, I'm sick and tired of not having my brother to my friends or my sanity because of a hit some asshole put on her! We are no closer to getting answers then we were 3 years ago when she goes missing!" I kick at the table and he puts his arm around me again. I rested my head on his chest.

After a few moments I heard voices out in the hallway and shifted. He stood up, helping me up and we both put on our masks. "Thank you for coming." I smiled and he looked down at me with a smile.

"I wouldn't miss it." he smiled and I placed a small kiss on his lips before playfully pulling away and unlocking the door. "Always nice to chat Mr. Hansen." I saw pretending to hate him agin.

"You too, sunshine. Enjoy your birthday."

~