Prompt 179

“Pa, there’s a weird lookin’ cat outside!” 

 -Said by a sleep deprived Danny Phantom while in Clockwork’s Lair, about a hero displaced in time. Clockwork is in fact amused. Batman is simply confused about the entire situation.  

I'm in love with Unstable! It's sooooo good. Can I make a request? Now that Jungkook is going through mating season, when it actually hits maybe he gets pretty protective of mc and he's just always encouraging her to nest, and he doesnt know why, neither does mc. So when they get in contact with Jin, it's him who just laughs and tells them it's just jungkooks intincts to show his future mate how good of a provider he is and how capable he is of taking care of pups. Love your writing Bonny! 🥰

-> Masterlist

It's.. odd seeing Jungkook not wearing his typical uniformed clothes. His typical black clothes he always seems to wear, it's become something you always knew him for. He always looks the same, always seems well put together, in control of himself.

Well, looked. Because these days, you've noticed a change in that.

His hair is a bit wild, and that's one of the first things that began to change. He's constantly running his hands through it, or he's napping more often than not, causing the black strands to occasionally stand up in disarray. Another thing is his choice of clothing- he's now dressed in layers, soft cotton sweaters and loose jackets or flannels, sweatpants instead of his usual cargo pants.

And today, as you enter the control center, there's something else that's now catching your attention.

There's multiple spots he seems to sleep on all around the control room- one near the windows where you usually sit and knit or nap, one close to the large server-towers, and another one near the main control station. And that's not.. odd, you can only assume that it's his instincts controlling his actions maybe, you've read somewhere that Bolku people do in fact build lairs for their partners to keep them safe. Not really because they wanna keep them comfortable or because they 'love' them- but more so to send a message out that this person is off limits and 'belongs' to them. It's more of an ego thing, if anything else, really.

But maybe, since Jungkook is partially human, something got mixed up? It must be horribly confusing to have two different instincts clashing together like that, considering the stark contrast between Human's social behavior, and the social norms of Bolku people.

"uh.. is it okay if I still sit here?" You point next to the.. nest-like structure where you usually spend time doing your little crocheting. Jungkook looks up at that, sitting in an unusual position on his chair, knee up to rest his cheek against just seconds ago. He nods.

"...yeah, lemme just-.." He mumbles, getting up to walk closer before he stops in front of it. It's clear that his initial plan was probably to put his stuff away and clean up the clothes and blankets and take down the fabric covering parts of the cold window. But he's now just staring at it, struggling to go through with it.

"I can just sit somewhere else, no worries-" You start, but he shakes his head.

"No, it's.. you can sit here." He says instead, before pointing at the middle of the pile of fabrics, where it's clearly flattened from his body resting there at some point. "There." He underlines again, nodding towards the nest.

You do so- his eyes focusing on the fact that you even go as far as to take your shoes off before you settle in the pile of stuff, fitting well in the middle of it all, with good amount of space to spare. The way you lean against the blanket covering the window makes him act again- moving to get another one to heighten one of the sides so that you wouldn't have to rest your body against the rather cold window.

Only after he's done, still crouching down in front of you, does he seemingly realize what he's doing.

The way his yellow hued eyes slowly change into pink makes you realize that you were probably thinking right- that he's most likely confused by his instincts clashing together.

And only a few hours later, when you act like you're asleep, do you hear that that's genuinely a problem of his, as he talks to Seokjin over a livestream at his control panel.

"I don't know!" Jungkook hisses agitated. "I want her- like, the moment she was in that pile of junk, it was like my entire body was suddenly lighter. And now that she sleeps in it-" He sighs loudly, and you can hear the chair creaking as he moves around in it.

"You're nesting dear! Oh that's so sweet to hear-" An elderly, female voice is heard, before you can hear Seokjin again.

"Mom please, you're embarrassing him!" He laughs, while you can hear a faint growl from Jungkook.

"What? It's nothing to be ashamed of, humans like being cared for!" The woman apparently being Seokjin's mother argues softly. "Jinnie told me you have found a sweet mate- you make sure she stays happy and healthy, yes?" She asks, while Seokjin whines.

"I never said she was a mate!" Jin defends himself. "Though it's clear he likes her-"

"Since when does that mean I think of her as a mate?!" Jungkook bites back, and at that, you feel a bit disheartened. It's not like you want to be seen as something like that- okay, maybe you want to. Or not? You're confused yourself about what you really feel about him.

"Jungkook, you gotta stop denying yourself things." Jin's voice says, defeated. "She clearly likes you, you clearly like her. Stop making it so complicated!" He whines.

"I'm not making it complicated, I just-" He sighs to himself. "-god, I'm not.. Even if I was to accept it all right now, she doesn't see me that way." He tries to explain. "She's not interested in me like that. Which is understandable- considering that I might-"

"Jungkook, dear, I did not raise you like that, did I?" The woman speaks again, and he sighs. "I raised you to be a good person." She says.

"...yes, but I might-" He starts, but she cuts him off again.

"You will not." She denies. "Even if there was no human blood in your veins, your heart is too warm to ever belong to a Bolku. You're not cold-blooded. You're warm, Jungkook." She tries, and there's a good moment of silence before Jin speaks again.

"Jungkook, she'll tell you when you're being an asshole. Don't you trust her?" He wonders, and after a moment, there's a quiet answer.

"I do." He says, and you fight hard to keep playing the role of the sleeping unaware one in the room. "I do trust her."

"Then trust her in that too. You're way too scared of yourself. You'll both be fine." He laughs, before his mother in the background seems to ask him something. "Ah, I gotta go, you go make some comfy nests for your princess!" He laughs, especially when Jungkook groans, before a sound is heart signalling the call's end.

You're not sure what to think now- especially when you can sense Jungkook crouching down in front of you, his hand adjusting something you're sleeping on, before he moves his jacket to lay over your back instead of hanging from the coat hook nearby.

Maybe, he really should trust you.

Maybe it's time for a change.

Nothing is Black and White (Leonora Lesso x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Lesso never thought evil could have a soulmate. Luckily, you were there to prove her wrong

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: swearing, blood

The black fleck on Lesso’s cheek had been mocking her for the entirety of her life. She’d known, deep down in her blackest of hearts, that the black would never explode into a galaxy of colour over her cheekbone. True love was insipid and stupid and only for the good. Evil was not given a soulmate, only the tautening of the mark left unfulfilled on their skin.

It’s what drove evil to destroy the happiness of all those awful princes and princesses.

She swept out of her quarters, avoiding looking at any reflective surface. She’d done her best to avoid looking at herself since she’d arrived at the school all those years ago. All that did was make her stomach feel as if it was trying to escape her body.

The school was changing. Her lip curled up as she saw the sheer amount of pink now littering her halls. The smiles, all beautiful and kind. The way the dark and the light was beginning to curl around one another in her school.

So many fucking shades of grey.

She stormed through the halls, forgoing breakfast, making for her office. Students jumped out of her way, melting into the shadows to keep from feeling her wrath. She slammed the door to her office open, enjoying the way some of the students jumped.

Settled behind the desk, she could feel the power coursing through her veins. She lent back, surveying the paper work on her desk with a critical eye. Still in charge, still in control, this change of the system was not going to drive her crazy. She was better than that.

Her eyes flicked up when the door was opened, depositing a smiling Dovey in her lair, glancing over her shoulder. She sighed, placing her pen down, sentence unfinished, thought broken off. Her sigh was enough to bring the godmother’s attention to her.

“There you are,” she said, practically trilling it across the space.

“In my office,” she said, sarcasm dripping from every word, “how surprising.”

“When we didn’t see you at breakfast we began to worry you’d hauled another student down to your doom room,” she said.

“We?” She raised a singular eyebrow.

Her face fell as you walked in, the end of a laugh lifting your lips, making your eyes sparkle. The smile didn’t dim as those sparkling eyes landed on her and her blood froze in her veins. Because there was another reason just the thought of soulmates made her want to retch. And it was staring right at her.

“Did you need something?” she drawled, tearing her eyes away from you.

“I was wondering.” Her eyes darted up to you as you spoke, “if maybe I could sit in on one of your classes today? You’re so good at commanding a room.”

“You want to watch me teach?”

You nodded, bridging the space between her desk and the door. Dovey, always more reticent in Lesso’s space, hung back but you’d never had such compunctions. It was one of the things that infuriated her so much. The way that she seemed to scare of everyone but you. Where people kept their distance from her, you seemed to be drawn into her personal space.

“I know I’ll never manage to capture your whole…” Your eyes ran over her body then back to her face, “everything but if I watch I might be able to pick up on some tricks for my own classes.”

She considered you. Your smile was unmoving and your face was so open with hope. She wanted to crush it. That would destroy the odd feeling in her body, like her heart was growing too big for her chest. You in your stupid little dress and your pretty hair and your beautiful face.

“No.”

She turned back to her paperwork, assuming that would be the end of the discussion. Feet shuffled in front of the desk. She glanced up. You were still there, looking down at her, smile a little dimmed but no less alluring.

“Please,” you asked, and she could see what it would be to have you on your knees begging. Just the thought made her heart beat a little harder.

“What’s in it for me?” she asked.

The smile on your face settled more comfortably on your face. She stood, just as you began to make your way around the desk. You paused, eyes gliding up her body, lips parting before they stretched back into a smile.

“What do you want?” you asked.

Oh, how she could answer that question. With you standing in front of her, the only kind of want filling her mind was one that led to you screaming her name. Your eyes found hers and there was something so addictive in the way you looked at her. She scoffed.

“There is nothing you could give me,” she said, turning her head away from you.

“Are you sure?”

Her eyes flicked down to you again. Your teeth had sunk into your bottom lip, stopping that smile from spreading further. Her mouth grew dry at the sight, wanting to do the same until she tasted your blood. You were far too tempting, and you seemed to know it.

“Fine,” she snapped, “observe my class. But don’t come back afterwards.”

“Thank you.” You made it sound like she’d given you something more than permission to watch her teach, “oh.”

Your hand reached up, brushing against her cheekbone. She shuddered, something warm sparking from that touch. Her breath caught just for a moment. You held up your fingertip.

“Eyelash,” you said, “make a wish.”

She managed to drag her gaze down to it, eyebrows drawing together when she saw the dark lash resting on a rainbow on your skin. A horrifying realisation was dawning on her. She knocked it aside, snarling at you. Your eyes widened before you drew back, averting your gaze.

“Sorry,” you muttered.

“Get out,” she growled.

You nodded, turning on your heels, brushing past Dovey to leave. The other dean offered her a disapproving look before sweeping out of her office, closing the door politely. Lesso waited a moment, long enough to be sure you had left, that there was no chance of being interrupted again.

With a flick of her finger the door locked, ensuring no one would be able to surprise her as she did what she had to. She sat behind her desk again, hand rummaging through the drawer until her fingers closed around something small and cold. She pulled it out, leaning back in her seat as she spun the small hand mirror, considering it before she could bring herself to look into it.

If those colours meant what she thought they did… They couldn’t. There was no way.

She flashed the mirror up, reflecting her cheekbone back at herself. A splash of colour, small and insignificant if she couldn’t still feel your finger brushing over it, following the line of it exactly. She ran her own finger over it, her insides beginning to feel as if they were eating themselves.

Evil didn’t have soulmates. Just like they didn’t get true love. That was what made them evil.

She pressed her lips together. She had no idea if you’d noticed but she was going to do everything in her power to make sure you never did. She picked up the black pen from her desk, inking over the mark until it looked just as it had that morning.

She cursed you and your inability to do as everyone else did and keep your distance from her.

When you walked into her last class of the day, the unsettled feeling that had begun in her stomach when she’d looked in the hand mirror had grown into something intolerable. She needed it gone and she needed it gone now. But there you were, standing at the back of the room, that same smile on your face that made her heart beat fast and her skin feel warm. You straightened your spine when her eyes alighted on you.

“Keep quiet and don’t interrupt,” she snapped at you, slamming the door to the room closed.

She then spent the entire hour ignoring your presence hovering just on the periphery of her vision. It was as if you demanded her attention, desperate for her to remember the matching rainbow on your fingertip. She kept averting her face from you, refusing to give in to the tugging in her chest.

Because it was wrong. It had to be wrong. Evil wasn’t given a chance at happiness.

She ended the lesson, dismissing the students. With her back turned to the room she could listen to their chatter as they left, assuming you’d slip out with them. Silence descended and she let out a long breath.

A warm hand touched her shoulder, practically burning her through her coat. She spun, face turning into a snarl. You blinked up at her but didn’t flinch back the way any normal person would have. It left her feeling on the back foot.

“Watching you is like a masterclass in being the boss of a classroom,” you said and she had to do her best to not allow herself to bask in the compliment.

“You would be too if you were a better teacher,” she said.

You shouldn’t have laughed but you did.

“Ouch.” You were still laughing, “but I suppose that’s a fair assessment.”

She gave you what she thought was a withering look but you were still laughing. She could not understand you. You were like a puzzle that she hadn’t worked out yet, something to pull apart to see if she could put it back together again. She shouldn’t want to, but it burned through her veins with an intensity that was hard to ignore.

“So,” you said and she didn’t like the way your voice changed. Not so light and yet still playful, “are we going to talk about what happened this morning?”

She stiffened.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Your smile turned indulgent and you took a step back, fingertips trailing over the surface of one of the small students’ desk. You looked away, turning your gaze to the chalkboard and the notes she’d left written on it but she got the feeling it was to give her privacy. She didn’t like that at all.

“Nothing happened this morning,” she growled.

“Okay,” you laughed.

“It didn’t,” she snapped.

You circled around her, fingers still trailing along the surfaces you passed until you were standing behind her desk like you were the teacher and she was the student. Something about it felt wrong and yet the way you were looking at her was also thrilling.

“So if a certain mark on my finger changed colour this morning, right after my meeting with you, you’d say that was nothing?” you asked, said finger resting on your chin in a mock thoughtful position.

“It could have happened any time,” she scoffed.

“It made me realise that we’d never had skin to skin contact before,” you said, beginning to circle back around the desk, “all this time and it’s not as frequent as the stories suggest. You keep everyone at arms length.”

“For good reason.”

You were advancing on her and she was backing up. Giving up ground was not something she enjoyed doing, but having you so close to her was also unacceptable. Her head never worked right when you were in her personal space.

“It makes me wonder if you’re afraid of finding your soulmate,” you said.

“I’m not afraid,” she snapped.

Her back hit the cool metal of the window. Your chin tilted downwards, eyes sparking when they met hers, lips curling up at the corners in the most enticing manner. Her breath left her as you closed the final foot of distance.

“Then why have you covered it up?”

She froze when your finger ran over her skin, in the exact same place as that morning. It still sent heat coursing through her veins. When it drew back she could see black ink staining your skin, hiding the colours she’d seen that morning. Your eyes flicked down to it then back to her.

“Well, would you look at that,” you murmured.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said but her voice had lost the edge she wanted.

“We can play this game of pretend for as long as you want,” you said, leaning towards her until she could feel your breath ghosting over her skin, “but you and I both know what this means.”

“No,” she growled.

Her hands landed on your shoulders, nails digging in and she spun you until it was your back against the window, pinned to it as she stared at you. You said nothing as her eyes roved over you, taking in all of you. Taking in everything. And you just let her.

She crushed her lips to yours, needing to take control back of the situation. But then you sighed into her mouth, and your hands pressed into her lower back, soft and sweet and she needed to stop it. Or else you’d drag her under and she’d drown.

Her teeth sunk into your lower lip, waiting for you to begin to struggle. Instead, you arched towards her, submitting as the coppery tang of blood coated her tongue and you whimpered. Your hands pressed her to you more insistently until there was no space between your two bodies.

“Evil doesn’t get soulmates,” she hissed into your mouth before you kissed her again.

“Then maybe you’re not as evil as you thought,” you murmured.

She kissed you again before the thought could burrow too far into her brain. With her lips on yours all thoughts faded away. It was so easy to focus on how soft you were, how malleable, how warm. When she was kissing you something within her chest ignited and she wasn’t sure she wanted to put it out.

“We’re not soulmates,” she groused.

You pushed her back, just a step. With your own blood smeared over your lips and your eyes blown wide you’d never looked so delectable. She just wanted to taste every inch of you.

“Keep telling yourself that,” you replied, “I’ll let you pretend whatever you want as long as you keep kissing me.”

“We’re not,” she insisted.

“Of course not.” You were smiling again.

“We’re…” You brushed your finger across her cheekbone again and her heart thudded hard enough to make her feel winded, “we’re…”

“Soulmates,” you whispered.

“Soulmates,” she echoed, more mouthing the word than vocalising it.

Your finger was still running along her cheekbone, following the line of her soul mark. She caught it, staring down at the swirl of colour. You held still as she considered it, taking in what the knowledge actually meant to her. She had a soulmate. It wasn’t a myth. Evil could have soulmates and she’d found hers.

You lent up on your tiptoes, lips softly brushing against her cheekbone, right over the mark. Her heart fluttered, such softness still strange to her. She couldn’t look away from you when you drew back. You were so beautiful it was almost physically painful.

So instead of telling you, she kissed you again, leaving you pinned to the window, her fingers in your hair, your arms around her waist. But she thought you might have known what she was thinking. And she thought you might have been thinking the same thing.

You never ceases to surprise me, that yandere Raph was a BLAST to read, speaking of yanderes, out of the four brothers who would be least to most likely kidnap the reader, or like who would do it the fastest depending on the situations. Like you mentioned in the yandere Raph oneshot he only intervened when he saw that the reader was hurt. Who knows how long he could have kept up with just watching them from afar, he would be bound to break eventually. But now's the question, how would Leo and Mikey be like? or, dare I ask… all of them at once.

I think the dynamic would be platonic if they all are yandere for you, for reasons. They would view you as their defenseless sibling, they have many enemies that want the turtles dead so it wouldn't be wrong to assume that they'd use you as a way to get to them. But that would only be one of their reasons for keeping you in their bais, they all have different wants and needs. Although those desires sometimes clash with one another they ultimately band together in hopes of keeping you safe from their enemies (and the world in general).

Depending on how you handle the situation things can either go really smoothly for you or the complete opposite. If you comply with their demands then you will be able to move around the lair freely without suspicion or with one of the brothers following you 24/7, practically breathing down your neck. You might even be able to leave from time to time, granted that at least two of them are watching over you as you walk through the streets. But on the other hand if you were to be stubborn then they will restrain the hell out of your freedom. You are locked in one of their rooms with said brother constantly looking over you, escape is near impossible, their fears of you leaving has led to them creating a night shift schedule. They all switch who watches each night, first it's Leo, Donnie, Mikey and then Raph. They would be doing this till stockholm syndrome kicks in, then you would no longer be yourself, you would be there's. Theres to take care of, theres to have fun with, theres and nobody else's.

ahhhh >\\\\\\\< im so glad you enjoyed hehe,

right!! yandere!raph would’ve kept on stalking until he found a justifiable reason to ‘help’ reader, I think Mikey would have the least amount of self control, being the youngest and more impulsive with his actions, he could easily convince himself he’s helping reader and that’s all it would take! Leo would be similar to Raph in my opinion, he could be patient, or just be satisfied by watching/waiting for a while

all of the brothers though!? they wouldn’t be able to hold back as maybe Raph or Leo could individually, all it would take would be one suggestion, “Y/n would just be safer in the lair! They’ll see that with time! We shouldn’t gamble with their safety like this!! Let’s just bring them here now.” The resistance to such an idea would crumble :D

I definitely agree with you about reader’s reaction! Depending on how they react they would either have some freedom or none at all. Can you imagine the full force of all the turtles brothers keeping you hostage?! Chances of escape: slim to none, I would guess that reader would have one true chance of getting away in the beginning but after that? zilch. zero. not possible!

I think I would be most afraid of Mikey though, his unpredictability, he’d definitely be bi-polar as a yandere… “Please Mikey, I can’t stay here anymore! I’ve got parents!! Friends!!!”

His smile that had been ever present on his face slips. He has this deadpanned look about him as he turns to you, away from the show he had been forcing you to watch. “You rather watch something else? Space Heroes?” He offers, it’s a warning, don’t bring up them. He’s your family now. He’s your best friend! You have him and his brothers, no one else matters! “Mikey..” you whimper and he cuts you off groaning. Jumping up and starting to pace in front of the paused screen. “I don’t understand. You should be happy! Why can’t you just be happy?! Here. With. Me.”

He’ll only calm down if you switch gears, promising that you are happy. That it’s totally fun to watch Mikey’s show. The tension in his shoulders and the crazed look in his eyes with disappear in a blink of an eye, his happy go lucky smile back in place! “See I knew you would come around!” <3

love love love our convos hehe so glad to hear from you <33333 hope you’re doing well and I’d love to hear your thoughts on who you would be most afraid of/nervous about in yandere au

Mutant Mashup thingy

(This has been sitting in my drafts for months rip-)

Since all the turtles and even the Splinters and Aprils grew up in a very different environment, they would obviously act a little different. So here’s my ideas on how.

Mutant Mashup AU by me and @sillyandquest

Oldest to youngest (as said here) DaVinci -> Red -> Sanzio -> Niccolo -> Purple -> Blue -> Simoni -> Orange

Both DaVinci and Red were the protectors. However, DaVinci was more offensive and Red as was more defensive. This was because Red had to worry about accidentally hurting people due to his strength and was pretty intimidating as is, but DaVinci didn’t. So DaVinci is slightly more trigger happy and Red looks for more peaceful situations. It’s not a major change, but if they meet their canon counterparts they’d quickly release the differences. This ties into Red’s mystic abilities too, as his holograms are more shield focused then in canon. Niccolo and Orange and holding their entire families together. As said here, Niccolo would help calm his siblings and cousins down when the Splinters fought, and Orange already had a complex about this in canon. Neither of them would be able to do this on their own (with how big their family is now) so they work together to keep everyone happy (even if they aren’t).

I’ve noticed the 2012 boys are big on teasing each other while the Rise boys are a lot softer to each other (minus Blue and Purple). So I’d imagine in this dynamic they’d both be in the middle ground of their canon dynamics. The Rise boys tease each other a lot more but are still softer then canon 2012, but the 2012 are softer to each other but still tease each other more then canon Rise.

Blue and Simoni and “the face team.” Which mean Blue taught Simoni some manipulation tactics. Simoni still gets tricked by 2012 Chris Bradford, but that was because he was star-struck. He’s actually a lot better at people then in canon. Also, Blue is a lot more insecure about himself because he doesn’t have his “face man” thing to himself and feels he has even less worth :(

Sanzio is slightly better at controlling his anger because Red is teaching him some things, though he’s still angry all the time. Also, he’s a little bit nicer to his little bros because they released that there’s 5 of them and one of him.

Purple also has more self worth issues then in canon because in there, he based his identity off being “the tech guy.” But here, there’s someone else that can do tech. Also, he usually gets put in the “safer” places during missions because Yoshi was overprotective of him because of his soft-shell, and all the 2012 boys (and even the Rise fam to an extent) followed. I could imagine an episode plot where he snapped and goes off to do something really dangerous to prove himself. Maybe going with the other brothers who get babied (Simoni and Orange)

Orange canonically does ballet (see the lair games ep) so I feel like I’m this AU Sanzio would be the kind of sibling/cousin-who’s-basically-a-sibling who would absolutely pummel anyone who bullies his siblings. Also I can see Orange and Simoni both doing ballet so when Simoni starts using his strings he moves around on them in a sort of “dance-y” way.

Since Lou let them sneak off to the surface before Yoshi was ready to let them go, I’d imagine DaVinci has an absolutely unreal amount of “Space Heroes” merch.

Since Simoni can be repelled by Poka, I can imagine Purple has an entire library of “Music genres my siblings/cousins-who-are-basically-siblings don’t like.” The labs were filled with Poka after Simoni activated his mystic powers

Theatre LMK au (note: since my spellcheck keeps fucking me over, we'll be using MK and Mei instead of their actual names for this post):

Ok, so this is a three-part show, done like that one fucking 18 hour opera in the sense that you have to go see all the parts to get the full story.

It's also not unlike Come From Away in terms of how many cast and crew members there are and everyone playing multiple roles.

Each season is one show, with a brief transition screen (the animation shown at the end of the episode) flying in from segment to segment. The entire stage rotates, with a total of three relatively constant sets and one space that's used for whatever special thing is needed. The constants are the noodle shop, Monkey King's lair, and a generic forest area.

DBK is actually three different people all moving the suit around and one of them shouting all the lines (the other two are usually the guys who play Silver and Gold because they're on the least).

PIF's hair is a wig that she built herself. She also does WBD's makeup.

The possession moments are actually a really complicated transition sequence done one of two ways if it's onscreen. There's either a convincing body double and a well-timed fall-to-swap (onstage person falls, 'possessed' falls w/them, og rolls off as the 'possessed' one rises) with the original actor for that character now wearing special contact lenses, or creating a smokescreen and focusing attention away from that character for the five seconds they need to put the contacts in. It's part of why when Monkey King is possessed, there's a cut to MK's reaction.

The falling trick is also used for Macaque's appearances and disappearances. It's combined with trapdoors in the stage and hidden swinging/rotating panels in the sets.

Lots of little gadgets that shoot out fake fire. Red Son is responsible for their creation and testing.

Related to that, his actual hair looks a lot like the character hair, but he wears a wig that has fake fire tech built in that allows it look like live flame with the flick of a button (usually hidden in his sleeves and handed off to PIF when that's not an option).

All of the demon characters have on a MASSIVE amount of body paint and complex makeup to make the horns and glowing eyes look 'natural'.

A lot of the comedy moments are improvised and change from show to show.

Holographic effects are used for the clones. Clones that interact with real objects are done via a similar-looking actor hiding in a hologram that's modded to work with their body instead of being pre-programmed in it's moments.

The light and soundboard have the ability to insert light and sound effects on the fly for improvised comedy bits.

WBD is actually played by three different people: The girl, her twin, and a woman who looks like the girls if they were older. They swap out off-screen or when the lights briefly go dim before revealing the creepy glow.

Scorpion Queen and Spider Queen are played by the same woman, in an almost identical costume. The body stays the same with the limbs being switched out. Silver and Gold (much like with DBK) control the body's motions so she can use her arms and say the lines without needing to worry about moving the bulky costume.

Macaque is a certified stage combat instructor, qualified for both weapons and bare-hand combat. He teaches MK and Sun how to fight with a staff and has the entire cast go through basic warmup exercises every day.

Tang is the group historian/researcher. He works with Sandy to make the sets more accurate and leaves notes for the costumers.

Mei and Red Son are the primary tech-geeks in the group and built a majority of the transforming mechs and cars out of scrap and old vehicles.

The purple demon that corrals Silver and Gold is the stage manager. She only has 3 appearances in the entire show because she's calling cues and herding everyone to where they need to be the rest of the time. The lever she pulls in season 3 is just about the only scripted bit that calls for special effects that she doesn't call and is triggered by her pulling the lever from one side to the other.

There are about seven extras in total, all of whom are constantly donning new wigs and accessories to look like different people. Whichever one of the WBD girls isn't currently onstage/about to go on helps with hair clips and checking for any quick-change mistakes. All of the other background people are just well-painted set-pieces and actors for named characters that aren't appearing in this episode or the next one.

Red Son not appearing in Season 2 and most of Season 3 was because of the larger amount of robots it was necessary to operate. He's controlling all of the little spiders and creating the creepy flickering lights during Macaque's mini-shows.

The shadow effect for Macaque is one of the most complicated things they work with. From hidden doors and panels, to brief blackouts, to wire harnesses that have to be disguised on the spot, the appearances and disappearances of a certain monkey are pure evil.

Nezha is the assistant stage manager. He was only persuaded to appear in the 3rd show when it was promised that he wouldn't have to be onstage for long. He's almost always standing in for straight-man characters whenever someone needs to practice lines and their partner isn't available.

The crew is surprisingly chill with each other. Unlike Phantom's orchestra, they mostly get along.

Pigsy is a great cook both on and offstage. He's in charge of catering and makes sure to set aside some extra snacks for younger actors and anyone doing an especially complex scene.

The jokes about Wukong having stage fright are based off of an actual conversation he and MK had during their very first tech week.

Homemade

Day 2 Dannymay: Home

Clockwork made cookies, they were a special blend he’d invented through countless trial and error to get just right. For a ghost, they'd have enough concentrated ectoplasm to provide energy and enough positive emotion to make them enjoyable, and for a human child, he focused on getting the right flavors and physical ingredients to make them actually edible.

 He set the plate down in front of Danny. The young half-ghost had been working really hard at his homework lately and Clockwork wanted to do something small to reward him for it.

 “Are- did you make cookies?” Danny asked, looking up at him in confusion.

 Clockwork smiled and gently ruffled his hair. “Will you tell me how they taste?”

 Most ghosts lost the ability to taste early on, along with their sense of smell. Clockwork never had either though, only had glimpses into different futures with different recipes and Danny’s own reactions to them.

 “Please tell me this isn’t the first time you’ve made cookies…” Danny made a face, uncertain.

 Clockwork rolled his eyes and grabbed the plate again, “you don’t have to eat them-“

 “I’ll eat them!” Danny grabbed the plate from Clockwork’s hands, a splash of green decorating his cheeks and forming a stark contrast against his starlit freckles.

 Braced as if for impact, Danny quickly shoved one of the still warm cookies into his mouth and began to chew. Slowly his features softened into enjoyment and Clockwork got to watch as he grabbed another and then another until the entire plate was clean.

 He was glowing slightly, the oven-baked ectoplasm doing wonders for his energy levels. Existing so long on ambient ectoplasm alone wouldn’t have been nearly enough for a young ghost like Danny, so it was nice to see him properly fed for once.

 “Clockwork, these are amazing! How did you make them?” Danny asked, his eyes shining slightly.

 “That’s a secret,” Clockwork lied. He didn’t want to admit it took him over a thousand tries to actually make something edible to a human pallet, and he had enough of a mysterious air about him that he’d get away with it.

 Danny didn’t seem to mind though, he just grabbed the plate and flew over to the kitchen so he could wash it. “Okay, what do I have to bribe you with to get those again?”

 Clockwork’s core hummed in satisfaction, it was almost a primal instinct to care for one’s child and it was always nice to be appreciated. “Finished homework would be a nice start.”

 Danny scoffed, a small smile on his face. “I think you need to lower your standards. I mean, I’m passing history now right?” The single dish was cleaned, dried, and put away in less than a moment.

 “Thank you Daniel,” Clockwork said. Danny didn’t get nearly enough appreciation from those around him, it never hurt to give him a little when he could.

 A light green blush built on Danny’s cheeks and he looked away in an attempt to hide his reaction. “Yeah well, you make cookies like that again and I’ll clean your whole clock tower.”

 Clockwork smirked, lifting an eyebrow. “The infinite spirals of my clock tower and the unending trails of time that exist ever moving inside of it would certainly appreciate a touch up.”

 Danny balked, “uh… maybe I can do a room at a time?”

 “You don’t have to clean anything for cookies Daniel. I’d rather you eat than not.”

 Relieved, Danny rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled. “Thanks Clockwork.” He sighed and dropped his hand, looking over at the window to the realms outside. “Ugh, I don’t wanna go to school tomorrow.”

 There wasn’t much to say, so Clockwork didn’t. He didn’t particularly care about Danny’s academics or whether or not he succeeded in school, but he knew intimately how much it mattered to Danny. It was tied to his two obsessions after all.

   He had to go to school so he could both make his family happy and be there to protect the other students, he had to succeed if he ever wanted to fulfill his dreams of working at NASA, the human space program. At the thought of absolute failure he would stress, shut down, and grow apart from those close to him. It would put strain on his obsessions and could lead to internal core damage. It was better for now, that Clockwork simply gave him time and the chance to try and keep up.

 “You’re always welcome to visit if you need more time,” he offered.

 “I know. I’ve uh, still got homework to finish…”

 “By all means.” Clockwork followed Danny out of the kitchen and watched as he sat back down to finish his homework, content with the healthy glow the cookies gave Danny.

 He turned back to his own work and watched for anything that didn’t fit or was causing trouble, but his mind was on the next recipe he wanted to try.

       The next recipe ended up being a casserole.

 Cliche to be sure, but decidedly more filling and sufficient than just a plate of cookies, and this time when Clockwork set it down in front of his young ward he was met with more enthusiasm than suspicion. Despite the bright pink color and the more… mobile parts of the dish. It was difficult to make something that met all the necessary requirements to properly nourish a halfa      and     have it look appealing so Clockwork had hardly tried.

 Danny dug in.

 “This is the most amazing casserole I’ve ever had in my life and that includes any and all ecto-contaminated food I’ve ever snuck out of the fridge without my parents noticing how did you do that?” Danny asked, shoveling another forkful into his mouth.

 Clockwork purred at the praise, and was glad to see Danny’s glow get even brighter. It was so pale before, barely even there in a way it never should have been with Danny’s obsession and power. “I suppose the difference would be that I was doing it intentionally.”

 Danny nodded. “Makes sense.” He took a moment to pause from devouring his food to look up over at Clockwork sitting across the table from him. “Are you going to eat anything?”

 How thoughtful. He should have probably prepared for that but, well. “I’m afraid trying to eat something with that much physical matter from the human world would go poorly for me. If you’re uncomfortable I can make some tea?”

 “Oh,” Danny looked at his half finished meal, realizing something and unable to react properly to it. “Yeah, tea sounds nice, can I have some too?”

 “Of course,” Clockwork agreed easily. He would be using a delicate mixture of herbs and spices from different parts of the infinite realms that Sojourn liked to gift him whenever he bothered to visit. None of them should have any adverse effects on the boy, and if he chose the right mixture, it might actually help him to calm down slightly.

 By the time the tea was finished and cooled enough to drink, Danny had finished his meal and cleaned up so that the two could sit and enjoy their tea together.

 Danny spent a moment too long staring into his cup, the swirling neon blue of the forgoent leaves—a small blue plant native to some of the darker forest realms, similar to the mortal realm’s forget-me-nots. Clockwork didn’t know what he was thinking, couldn’t see a timeline where he actually spoke his thoughts out loud. He sighed and took a drink of his own cup, the tea’s soothing blend serving to take off the slight edge of his anxiety. It was difficult caring for a child, even with his power.

 “Thanks for the tea Clockwork,” Danny said, “and uh, the casserole too.”

 His voice was quiet, but sincere and Clockwork accepted his thanks with a small nod of his head. The rest of the evening went on like that, mostly silent but not unpleasant in each other's company. When Danny left to go back to the mortal realm he paused at the clock tower’s door and quickly turned back to Clockwork, pulling him into a quick, tight hug that had him almost freezing time instinctually before Danny pulled away and quickly flew off.

 Clockwork stayed there, floating in the entryway to his lair and felt his core practically screaming at him in delight.

 He needed a way to distract himself, maybe he could start working on another recipe?

     Pie was unnecessarily difficult, Clockwork decided, despite its place as the most popular fairy-tale dish ever mentioned. He’d made no less than three thousand six hundred and four different variations of the damned recipe and not a single one had even stayed together, much less been even remotely edible.

 He sighed. At this rate, even freezing time wouldn’t help him accomplish this before Danny arrived. He was admittedly impatient for an immortal entity with all of time under his control, and he wanted to actually be able to spend time with his ward rather than an eternity trying, and failing, to bake something.

 Which is exactly how Danny had caught him taking a failed experiment out of the oven, having arrived while Clockwork was distracted.

 “Is that a pie?” he asked, excitedly reaching for it.

 Clockwork quickly held it out of the young halfa’s reach, unwilling to allow him near his utter failure.

 Danny blinked, his face drooping into an exaggerated pout, “I can’t have some?” Clockwork felt his core ache a little. Maybe he should have stopped time until he got it right?

 “It’s not fit for consumption at the moment,” he said, carefully floating it out of reach and towards the end of the counter. He didn’t have anything resembling a human trash can, it was uncomfortable to keep waste in one’s lair afterall, so he’d have to leave it on the counter for now. He could dispose of it properly later, maybe as fertilizer for his garden.

 “Oh don’t be like that,” Danny said, floating around Clockwork and completely ignoring his very valid warning. “I’m sure it’s fine, everything else you’ve made has been delicious.”

 Well yes, everything else he’d made had been very much intended to be delicious. This one was a failure. However, Clockwork wasn’t going to admit to the amount of effort that had gone into each and every piece of food he’d made for his young ward. It would be uncomfortable at best for Danny and horridly embarrassing for Clockwork.

 “I’ll make another one for next time, please-” Clockwork didn’t even finish his sentence before Danny was grabbing a piece of the crust and shoving it into his mouth. “Daniel!”

 Danny smiled. “Yeah okay not your best work, but it’s edible for sure.” He grabbed another piece and ate that as well and Clockwork didn’t really know what to do. On one hand, he was right: it was certainly edible, there would be no adverse effects caused by Danny eating the food, and it would be just as nourishing as the other meals Clockwork provided. But on the other hand, it could not have tasted pleasant. All of the futures where he tried serving this to Danny as normal were met with disappointment at best.

 So why was he content to eat it like this?

 “I knew you couldn’t be perfect,” Danny snickered. He grabbed a fork and a plate from their places in the kitchen and then floated over to the table, pie-adjacent pastry in hand. “Are you gonna make tea again?”

 “Yes,” Clockwork answered, glaring at the pie. The horrid pie that Danny was eating because not every single meal needed to be perfect and Clockwork, as always, had been over-complicating everything.

 The atmosphere at the table was soft and comfortable. It was certainly something Clockwork was unused to, enjoying company for company’s sake. And to think they wouldn’t be here as they were, had Clockwork succeeded fully with his task. It brings up a question, actually thousands of different, related, questions, about failure and success and the weight of either.

 Danny smiled at him from over the half eaten pie. Clockwork smiled back.

 An alarm went off and Danny shoved one last bite into his mouth before flying off towards the main room of the clocktower. “Shoot, I forgot I promised Jazz to let her help with my english homework.”

 There was a flurry of papers while Danny tried to gather all of his things. Pencils shoved precariously into his bag and folders of half finished homework assignments quickly followed. The half finished pie on the kitchen table was completely ignored, as it should have been to start with.

 “You seem to be in a rush,” Clockwork said, watching amusedly. Either Danny had forgotten Clockwork’s particular powerset in his haste, or he hadn’t thought to ask for a medallion. Either way Clockwork found it too amusing to offer his aide unless Danny thought to ask.

 “Yeah, yeah,” Danny tried to say over the strap of the backpack he held in his mouth in lieu of his busy hands. “I’ll be back home s-”

 Danny blushed and stuttered out something awkward and intended to drag attention away from the slip of his tongue. But Clockwork just smiled, watching the boy finally gather his things and quickly make his exit promising to come back tomorrow for dinner.

 Wasn’t there a human saying about home and food?

Stack the Deck

Chapter 15/22 (updating daily)

Story Summary: When his brother’s best friend calls in desperate need of help, mercenary Killian Jones will stop at nothing to save the woman from his old enemy. Flying halfway across the world to meet Emma Swan was all part of the plan, falling for her not so much.

Between deadly inventions, criminal masterminds, and his feelings, he soon realizes he may be in over his head.

That’s just the way he likes it, really.

Rating: M

Thanks to @motherkatereloyshipper for reading this over and making it better!

“There’s a warning written in the corners of your face

Whiplash and you left me in a vapor trail”

-I Don’t Wanna Talk, Glass Animals

Killian had never been much for praying, wishing, hoping, or dreaming. He considered himself a pragmatist, rooted in reality and well-versed in the fact that life wasn’t fair.

However, when he saw a familiar blonde head kicking someone’s ass in a dark corner, he did briefly consider believing in miracles.

He had waved David away, the man’s presence bringing an irksome number of women in their sphere, attempting to distract them from the business at hand. He had come there to take Hyde out, and he didn’t have the time or energy to kowtow to the masses.

When the team split up to cover more ground, he knew he had a limited amount of time to get ahead of the storm that was gathering on the horizon. David wanted to call in their stolen vehicle, allowing the police to do the work of tracking down his wayward lass, but he was resistant. While he would have dearly loved to be the one to bail Swan out of jail, he knew people like Gold and Hyde had loyal men everywhere, both in the cells and on the force. He couldn’t risk any harm coming to her.

Instead, he had decided to cut the threat off at the source. He knew he would find Emma, relishing the thought of proving her wrong about him and them in ways that they would both enjoy, but she was slippery. He couldn’t take the chance someone else would find her first.

So, he would simply have to neutralize any threats to her directly and once he knew he was the only one looking, truly savor the hunt.

Hyde was a man made for dark spaces, slimy and vicious, but he wasn’t particularly hard to find. The crime lord didn’t exactly keep a low profile. While there were whispers and hints he would be on the move soon, all of Will’s sources said he wasn’t going anywhere until after Sunday night.

Which just so happened to be the date Tiny dug up for the auction.

They had tracked him to his stateside lair, a place of hidden deals and illegal activities. A fat stack of bills had ensured they gained entrance to the club and access to the second floor, the VIP space where the real business happened.

He had bided his time, occasionally chatting with David over their headsets when there was a temporary respite from the mind-numbing repetitive noise that passed for music in this club. He had noted the traffic going to the catwalk but wasn’t ready to abandon his watch just yet. He preferred greeting Hyde in a less controlled environment.

When the ogre of a bouncer made a beeline past him, his curiosity was piqued. The man appeared to be on a mission, and with nothing better to do until Hyde left his high ground, he followed.

The sight of Swan being cradled against the larger man, however unwillingly, did something to him. He had heard the phrase ‘seeing red’ all his life but never truly understood it until then. Although truth be told, the color of his emotion at the moment was black, like the charred remains they would someday find of the bouncer.

He was two seconds away from murder when Swan made his intervention unnecessary by beating the bloody bastard to a pulp. Admiring the tantalizing expanse of creamy skin on display as her skirt drifted higher with every kick and movement, he faded back into the shadows and thanked his lucky stars she was not only all right without him but apparently thriving.

Except he would have hoped for a little bit of yearning while she was taking care of business. He’d been overcome with it since they parted, after all.

His lovely Emma’s instincts were impeccable as always. Killian could tell by the way she kept monitoring her surroundings that she sensed his presence. If he had announced his arrival like a gentleman, she wouldn’t have lost the upper hand and been tossed to the ground by the brute. Knowing it was likely his fault she had just fallen on her perfect backside, he stepped out of the shadows and took great delight in ensuring her safety in a way guaranteed to hurt her attacker for many days to come.

She was exquisite, and his hands itched to touch her. The tight dress hugged all the curves he was intimately familiar with, hair loose around her shoulders like a gleaming mass of sunshine, heels so high they were probably on eye level with each other now.

He wanted to apologize, to chastise, to tease and taunt and pretend like he hadn’t lied and she hadn’t run. But mostly, he wanted her to be happy to see him.

He settled for saying hello.

Apparently, it wasn’t the right thing to say.

Read the rest on AO3

@teamhook @jrob64 @kmomof4 @klynn-stormz @stahlop @xarandomdreamx @xsajx @tiganasummertree

Sonic Boom - S3E1

Episode title: Friendship 101

Word count: about 3000 words

Author’s Note: I’m trying a rather new format for this fic, since it’s based on a TV show with various songs and camera angles. If you have any comments about whether it works well or not, please let me know!

(Also, the theme song choice is all thanks to khinesthetic, who used it here and inspired me to put it in this fic.)

Next

[cue Mr. Blue Sky by ELO (0:00-3:45)]

[The show opens on a zoomed-out view of Hedgehog Village from above. Stone walls separate the village from the wilderness outside. There are large spaces at several points throughout the structure for entry and exit. A large patch of grass with benches scattered about sits at one end of the village, and a marketplace made up of wood-and-cloth stalls runs along one of the walls. Houses are grouped in seemingly random clusters throughout the town, and the (in)famous Meh Burger stand sits all on its own, with picnic tables spread across its wooden flooring. As the music progresses, the camera begins to zoom in on the village- then on one of the streets in particular- and rotates down to eye level to face…]

Sonic the Hedgehog walked through the streets of Hedgehog Village with a bounce in his step, occasionally dancing to the music playing through his earbuds. As he wandered throughout the town, he passed the usual people running their stores, arguing over botched orders at Meh Burger, and, at one point, Aqua the Rabbit absolutely freaking out over the loss of a single follower on Angstagram (the latest social media network for moody teens).

He did a 360-degree spin before winking and pointing finger guns at Amy Rose when he spotted her haggling with the local grocery store owner. She paused briefly to wave at him with a smile. “Hi, Sonic!” she called, completely ignoring the irritated fennec in the process.

Then, the music froze and changed to something extremely ominous as she turned around to face the shopkeeper once more. A dangerous gleam appeared in her eyes as she pulled out her signature hammer. “Now then, about those prices you’ve been setting lately…”

The song cut back in as the view switched back to Sonic, who was now moving away from the scene at a slightly faster pace.

Really, though, he was more than happy to see his other friends not long after. Knuckles and Sticks were currently busy rummaging through the town’s garbage together, excitedly chatting about the latest piece of interesting junk they’d found, while Tails was fixing someone’s broken rain gutter (and attempting to ‘improve’ it in the process, which meant that it could now measure the amount and intensity of rainfall in a storm- a very useful, though unfortunately unwanted improvement).

Surprisingly enough, as he continued on his way through Hedgehog Village, he managed to get people from a few different places to wave back at him when he said hello. Although perhaps it wasn’t quite so surprising when one considered that this was one of the most cliched opening sequences that could possibly happen in any movie or TV show. Ever.

And of course, the only logical outcome of this scene led to everyone beginning to stop their usual activities and gather in one of the few open spaces in the town, clearly prepared to break into a fantastic musical dance number straight out of Broadway. Incredibly, this was one of the few moments in which everyone in the village seemed to be able to get along…

...until Eggman’s latest giant robot slammed feet-first into the ground, sending everyone off-kilter and scrambling for cover. Shrieks of panic rose in place of the music as the villagers fled the scene to hide in their houses. The dramatic entrance didn’t just ruin the mood, it absolutely crushed it with the sheer force of its impact.

And that was, obviously, when the show really began.

[cue In Your Face by Shockwave Sound (0:00-1:04)] 

[Each of the five members of Team Sonic appears on a black screen with their name spelled out in their signature colors (blue, yellow, red, pink, and green) and does a couple of cool fighting moves, followed by snippets of scenes featuring them from previous episodes of the show for about eight seconds each. All five of them then appear together in their usual fighting stances, emphasizing their status as a team.

The Eggman logo then appears in an ominous, glowing red, backlighting the doctor himself and all his creations- before the lights flick on to reveal him alone in his evil lair with a green screen behind him, at which point he shrieks and covers the camera with a hand. Then, neon blue electronic lines begin to appear across the screen and the camera spirals to follow them, selecting one particular line to trace. Not long after, said line ends at a circle which, with a flash, turns into the words ‘Sonic Boom’. Beneath the title, it says ‘Ancient Secrets’ in neon blue.]

[Then the music ends, at which point the episode title- “Friendship 101”- appears for a few seconds in the same color before the show itself returns.]

Sonic scrambled to his feet and zipped over to Tails, pulling him up from where he’d fallen after the robot’s overdramatic arrival. Amy managed to do the same with both Knuckles and Sticks simultaneously, which let Sonic stare for a moment, startled, and then promptly resolve to remember not to get on her bad side anytime soon.

Soon enough, the team had scrambled into their usual positions, ready to fight. Amy and Sticks kicked the battle off by handling the various smaller robots that threatened to get too close to their team, never faltering (and in fact seeming a bit gleeful in the badger’s case) despite the sheer number of enemies. Knuckles, meanwhile, launched Sonic bodily into the air for Tails to catch, before picking up a boulder about the size of a house and lobbing it directly at the robot’s chest.

“Hey! Easy with the boulders- QuakeBot took a lot of effort to make, you know!” Eggman shrieked from above, hovering in the relative safety of his Eggmobile. 

(Relative, in this case, was of course in comparison to mixing absurdly volatile chemicals in a lab, bothering Shadow at any and/or all hours of the day, or being on Tails’s bad side when the fox had a glue gun. The doctor still remembered that situation all too well, and currently ranked it as far more terrifying than merely being punted into the stratosphere by kids under half his height and about a third his age.)

Sonic paused to stare at Eggman from where he was currently dangling in the air. A smirk began to spread slowly across his face. “…what did you just call it?”

“You heard me the first time!” the doctor roared, now incredibly embarrassed. “I named it that since it makes the ground shake when it moves, like an earthquake??”

General laughter came from the heroes assembled on the ground and in the sky.

“Argh! Nobody appreciates my genius around here! Now, QuakeBot, stop standing around and start attacking!”

“I suggested TerraBot, since it still has to do with earth and is a play on the word ‘terror’, but nobody ever listens to my ideas, now do they?” Orbot muttered irritably to himself, tucked inside the Eggmobile.

“I listen to all your ideas!” Cubot offered encouragingly.

Orbot’s mouth shifted into a small smile. “Thanks, Cubot.”

Meanwhile, Sonic had been pulled into a spin by Tails, who whirled the hedgehog around before letting him shoot downwards toward the robot in a spin dash- only for him to get caught and sent flying into the nearest house.

He shook off the surprise quickly (and apparently sustained absolutely zero damage despite having literally crashed through a house, because superpowered teenagers), darting back over to the group. “Well, uh, guess it’s time for Plan B then!”

Crickets chirped in the ensuing silence. Even the robot had stopped moving to hear what he had to say.

“And the plan is…?” Amy prompted.

Sonic folded his arms with a huff. “I dunno, I thought you guys would have one!?”

The pink hedgehog rolled her eyes at that. 

Tails piped up. “I have an idea! Sonic, you’re going to need to be curled up for this, okay?”

The hero promptly did just that, before emitting a muffled “mmhmm?” from inside his layers of quills.

“Alright then, Amy, I need you to hit Sonic with your hammer right at the side of this house.”

Sonic’s blood ran cold. “Whoa whoa whoa, wait a second can we maybe rethink thiaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

He ricocheted all over the palace like a pinball, slamming into several key points of the robot thanks to Tails’s rapid calculations. However, the robot was sadly unaffected by his screaming at a pitch that came dangerously close to shattering glass.

The robot was easily disabled and the attack overall quickly repelled after that. Thankfully, it took Sonic only a moment to recover from his impromptu stint as an out-of-control projectile and get back to fighting with the others…complete with a “Let’s do that AGAIN!” moment, which was met with a resounding no from both Amy and Tails. 

Their ears were both still rather sore from last time, after all.

After Eggman was punted all the way back to his island by a well-placed kick from Sticks, though, the crew was about to head over to Meh Burger for a post-battle meal when they discovered that they had an entirely different problem to take care of. The villagers, who were beginning to come out of hiding after the attack, were furious upon seeing the damage dealt to their homes and stores.

“How could you let this happen?” one shouted.

Before long, the villagers found themselves a more specific target when the owner of the house that Sonic had smashed into pointed her finger directly in his face. “This mess is awful!” she cried. “And it’s all his fault!”

Within seconds, a mob of people had descended upon the overtaxed teen.

“I’ve never known a hero so irresponsible.” one fumed.

“How dare you!” the fennec from earlier roared.

The elderly wolf of the village shook her cane at him. “Shame on you!”

Sonic could feel himself beginning to tense up as the villagers turned their ire on him. Whether or not he’d admit it to anyone, he needed two main things in order to be his usual heroic, cheerful self: open space and positive reinforcement. Right now, he was getting exactly the opposite of both of those.

And he was not feeling good about it.

He looked briefly over to his friends for help, but Sticks had already vanished, Knuckles and Tails looked more nervous than anything, and Amy was already walking towards him with that look in her eye…

“Sonic, next time you do need to work on making sure the robot doesn’t catch you, you know-”

A streak of blue shot out of the village, leaving nothing but a scorched trail of grass and the snap of a sonic boom behind.

Sonic didn’t slow down until he reached the mountains- which technically wasn’t very far from the town at all, so he ran quite a bit more after that until he ended up in the middle of the jungle. Then, he sat down with his back to a tree and his arms around his knees, feeling very unheroic and overall pretty lame.

The blue hedgehog frowned at the dirt. Honestly, some days it really did feel like nobody seemed to like him. The only person who ever even suggested he was important on a regular basis was Tails, and Sonic didn’t blame him at all for not jumping into the middle of that crowd. Tails was only thirteen to his seventeen and a half years old- not exactly an age when he should be expected to go toe-to-toe with a crowd of angry adults.

Still, though. When being a hero got him all risk (no matter how low) and no reward...it was difficult for him to keep hold of that core feeling of “I can make the world a better place to live in!”, which, despite all his other claims, was truly at the center of what had motivated him to start fighting against Eggman so long ago…

[The scene morphs in a manner which shows the lighting shifting so that the sun is overhead. A sound effect of birds chirping plays over the scene change. This implies that it’s been several hours since he first fled the village.]

Sonic was still lost in thought when the snap of a twig in the bushes made him jump to his feet in surprise. The surrounding vegetation rustled ominously for a moment...only to reveal the four members of his team in front of him. He watched them all cautiously, his expression tense. More than anything, he looked ready to run at a moment’s notice- something which only served to make his friends(?) seem a little more distressed. “Uh…hey, guys?” he began tentatively.

“Sonic, I…” Amy began forcefully, before stopping herself. At first, it looked like she was about to scold him again, but then suddenly her face fell. “Listen, Sonic, we’ve all been talking a lot about what happened back at the village…and there’s something I want to say.” She gave a slightly tired sigh. 

“I know we usually like to make jokes and witty commentary, but...sometimes, the world’s just a difficult place to be in.” she said. “...so we really do need to talk about serious stuff occasionally, even though I know it’s tough for you to even mention how you’re feeling. Unless, you know, it’s ‘great!’ or ‘cool!’ or something like that.”

Sonic cringed at the mere idea, looking more and more like he thought running away was the preferable option here.

“So what I wanted to say was that in a world where there are too many people trying to beat you down...what I was trying to do was tell you how to be more tolerant, because I thought that would help. I figured you can’t change how other people are going to be, just yourself, so I hoped that might make things better.

“But...I’m not actually a licensed therapist- yet, anyway. So I might have been wrong on how I went about that. Maybe...instead of telling you off for not being able to stop all those people...in the future I’ll pull out my hammer and tell them to knock it off already. Does that sound better to you?” she asked.

The blue hedgehog froze. “Ames…I...” he croaked, trying his best not to think about why exactly it felt like his throat was so tight all of a sudden.

Sticks folded her arms. “I like that plan! Those people are way too crazy sometimes…and you guys know I have a verrrrry high tolerance for crazy.”

“We can make the villagers quit bugging you together, just like how we fight Eggman!” Knuckles added encouragingly. “It’s always better that way, isn’t it?”

There was still one person who hadn’t spoken yet, though.

Suddenly, Tails crashed full-force into Sonic, squeezing him in a hug that for once he didn’t pretend to hate. “You know I’ve always, always, always got your back, right, Sonic? No matter what?” he asked, looking up at his older brother. “Even if I don’t always know how to do it right.”

The blue hedgehog simply nodded, not trusting his voice to help him maintain his ‘cool guy’ status.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel up to talking about it now, though.” the fox added understandingly, stepping back but still leaving a hand on his arm. 

“But!” Knuckles added. “We won’t tell anyone if you ever decide you do need to get some stress off your chest every once in a while!” He smacked his own chest with a fist for emphasis.

“Nobody needs to know.” Sticks growled, the camera suddenly showing a dramatic angle of her face as the lighting dropped noticeably.

“Uh…that’s kinda dark.” Sonic said, holding up a finger with a bit of a confused frown, which let the lighting and camera angle zip back to normal.

“Anyway!” The pink hedgehog clapped her hands together, turning to face the group as a whole. “What do you guys think about heading over to my house and watching some movies? I’ll even…” She sighed, her whole body slumping. “…make some messy, simple, unprofessional chili dogs. In my state-of-the art kitchen. I know Sonic probably could use a pick-me-up right now, after all.”

“Thanks, Ames! You’re the best!” the hedgehog in question said cheerfully, the promise of good food and great companionship boosting his mood significantly.

Then, his posture shifted once again into something a little more vulnerable. “And thanks to all you guys. For, y’know, everything.”

“Of course!” Amy chirped.

Tails smiled at him. “No problem, Sonic.”

Sticks folded her arms. “That’s what a team’s for, ain’t it?”

“Of course it is!” Knuckles said, in that rather confusing manner where nobody was actually sure if he understood anything about what had just happened.

The echidna actually walked over to Sonic after that particular declaration, though, placing a hand on his shoulder as his face became uncharacteristically serious for a second. “Really, Sonic, we can all help you out, alright? Nobody gets to yell at our leader without getting yelled at back!” he declared, punching a fist into his other hand.

The hedgehog blinked twice before looking up at his friend. “You…just called me the leader?”

“Well, duh! That’s why everyone calls it Team Sonic, right?” Knuckles asked with a smile, letting an awkward (but genuine) grin spread across Sonic’s face.

Within seconds, the hero found himself squeezed in a big hug from all sides by his friends- and then actually lifted off the floor through a joint effort from Knuckles and Amy. 

“Guys- come on! I can’t even move here!” he cried out, his legs flailing so quickly they made a vibrating noise in the air. “Guyyyyssss….” he whined, though nobody seemed to care much about his halfhearted complaints (judging by the happy expressions on their faces).

Then, the episode began to end, as evidenced by an iris out transition. The slowly shrinking circle paused for a moment on Sonic’s current expression, highlighting it against the otherwise black screen. He now sported a sheepish, if slightly pleased smile, complete with a faint pink blush on his face from all the positive attention. 

Clearly Sonic liked being, well, liked far more than he let on.

Then, the circle snapped closed with a pop, and the credits began to roll.

[Voice Actors: 

Roger Craig Smith

Colleen Villard

Travis Willingham

Cindy Robinson

Nika Futterman

Mike Pollock

Kirk Thornton

Wally Wingert

Bill Freiberger

Original creation by:

Evan Baily

Donna Friedman Meir 

Sandrine Nguyen

Bill Freiberger

Takashi Iizuka

Writer/editor:

Solalunar “Sol” Eclipse

Thank you for watching reading.]

Where Dreams Lie Part II

Note:

I'm going to be completely honest... I was going to leave it as a one shot but my friends wanted more so I am here to provide. I listened to Grace by Luis Capaldi on loop as I wrote this. So I highly suggest listening to it as you read. Enjoy. P.S this will be continued to at least three to five parts. And yes I slipped a few lines in.

Leonardo X reader

He didn't quite remember when he finally gathered himself back up and slunk down into the sewers. Sometime in the middle of the night he had saw you go back to sleep. It gave him comfort that you wee safe. Safe from him. Safe from the danger that you so willingly would put yourself through if you hadn't been hit with the intense amnestic that The Foot had been working on.

He saw Donnie watch him slink into the kitchen.

"You should just bring them back. Eventually it will wear off-"

"And they will remember how much of a monster I am. Raph had better control under the influence than I did." Leo cut him off aggressively. Donnie flinched.

Leonardo honestly felt bad. Ever since the last major attack from the Foot he had been more hostile. Normally he was the one to keep a cool head as he was the leader. But a button had been pushed and none of the brother knew how to bring their calm brother back.

They actually acted like they stood on eggshells around him. The only thing that would both calm and anger him was you. So they would often suggest him to watch you go to school. But only Donnie ever suggested you to be brought back.

There were only a couple of instances where the other two would worry for his life but Splinter would often step in as well saying that the eldest brother was acting foolish and out of control.

So Leo let out a anger filled huff and when to make his drink. He avoided tea now. It never tasted right anymore. He could never get the right amount of honey or milk that you would put in. So he settled with coffee. It was bitter and made his stomach churn and often cause headaches after an extended time without it but it sufficed. It didn't remind him of you.

I can't seem to drown you out long enough.

He avoided the mediation room unless Splinter flat out told him to go and would sit with him, something he hadn't had to do since he was a toddler as it usually was Leo's safe place.

Leo drank the scalding hot coffee quickly before rushing out of the lair into the dark morning, leaving your worn book behind. Donnie picked it up and slowly flipped through it as Raph and Mikey warily walked into the makeshift kitchen. Donnie saw the notes and dogears that you had left behind in black ink and Leo's responses in a light blue.

I fell victim to the sound of your love.

He sighed and looked at his brothers. Mikey looked down and away as if he was at fault for something and Raph shook his head bitterly before leaving quickly and to his gym.

I got nothing but you on my mind.

You had now started searching the web for humanoid Turtles on the streets that mostly were associated with blue. You came up with sparse descriptions and even fewer writings on them, all of them taken down for fake news by the New York police. Irritation now settled into your stomach as you looked and came back with nothing for your time. You were certain that there had to be something.

Don't wanna let the pieces fall out of place.

You were sure that, that dream was not a dream and was a memory. I couldn't have been just a dream. You weren't going to allow it. After endless hours of searching you found a hint in one of April's old writings. Mentioning that there were vigilantes in the cities that she was certain were not human.

The article provided blurry pictures and other grainy photos that most critics called photoshopped and a hoax. But to your sleep deprived and desperate brain you it was proof. A little bit of light at the end of the endless and painful tunnel. And you were running, running and grasping for that light. Begging it to come to you. You smiled as you stared at the rain coming down heavily.

When night fell and the rain had stopped you grabbed what few supplies you needed and shoved them into a a raggedy backpack that your family said that you would take every time you left for the weekend. The supplies included an extensive diary of all of your dreams/memories, a detailed drawing of the person that you often called 'Leo' in your dreams, and other essentials.

'til I found salvation in the form of your....

You ran through the streets, the slash from puddles were soaking the cuffs of your jeans. The hoodie barely protected you from the chill of the night and the fresh rain fall.

I'm not ready to be just one of your mistakes.

You stopped in front of a very familiar tunnel. It was a passage that you walked down many times in your memories. You bit your lip as you dug out a flashlight and walked down the tunnel. Searching.

"I can't be wrong. Please..." Was the small prayer that you mumbled as you entered.

I was just a breath removed from going to waste.

You heard a familiar sound of footsteps. You swore how many times you replayed the sound in your dreams and waking you could recognize it from anywhere.

You held your breath as you felt as every cell in your body was anticipating him to come around that small corner.

Are we too wounded now to ever come down?

You saw him step around the corner and you nearly burst into tears right then and there.

"I was right!" was your choked out response. He finally looked in your direction and you melted seeing the piercing blue eyes from your dreams.

Your grace...

He looked confused as to why you were there. You wanted to run into his arms and feel as safe as you did in your memories.

"I remembered! Albeit fractured and full of holes I remember you Leo."

Your grace....

You didn't know what reaction you expected when you found him. But it certainly wasn't anger. Anything but anger. You dealt with anger on a daily from your Mother and classmates. But you scrambled in your fractured memory

He stormed up to you and growled.

"Why are you here?"

You felt your heart stop for a split second as you stared up at him at a loss for words.

"Answer me!" Was the loud shout. You yelped and flinched, stumbling away from him.

"For you..." Was the whimpered reply.

I'm not ready to be just another one of your mistakes.

"Why." you could hear his teeth grind together. That one memory of those blue eyes soft like a gentle sea and those large hands, now clenched into fists, held your face so lovingly and stroked your cheeks.

"Because I thought.." You breathed out in a scared whisper.

Don't wanna let the pieces fall out of place.

"Do you ever remember me loving you?" He bellowed. his voice hurting your ears and you coved your ears as he did.

'til I found salvation in the form of your....

"No.." You spoke softly as if speaking to your very angry ex stepfather. walking on eggshells. you voice still begging. You knew what was coming next. God please no. Your inner voice plead.

Don't take it away.

"Good. Because I. Never. Did." He spat. Your heart broke into little pieces along with that vision of that loving smile. Broken like glass with a sledgehammer. The sound of tinkling of those broken shards played in your ears like a sad music box. Silence along with your tears filled the space between the two of you.

Salvation in the form of your grace.

"Y/N?" was a call from down the tunnel. You looked up and saw a vaguely familiar turtle with a purple bandana. Not wanting him along with Leo to see you so broken you turned on your heel and ran. Leaving the dropped flashlight and backpack behind.

"Y/N!" was the desperate call behind but you didn't stop, and you didn't hear pursuit.

Your grace!

Leo knew what he did was wrong. He knew as Donnie yelled at him. A temporary heartbreak would heal soon. You were safe from him and the Foot now. He ignored Donnie as he headed back to his room. He would leave you alone now. That was for the best.

Don't take it away.

oh hear is a fun scenario Kill la kill Ryuko's and satsuki reaction to there male S/o saving them whiles wearing senketsu / junketsu (yep in the activated forms) and their male S/o looked hot whiles wearing them

Reader is male

CW (CONTENT WARNING): Swearing, suggested sexual content, diverging from canon events, slight gore, blood tw, slut as an insult is used once

❄ Snowpea’s words: THIS REQUEST SOUNDS SO FUNNY BUT I LOVE IT SDFDSFLH

| Ryuko Matoi |

God, why did anyone allow students to have military-grade weapons? Carrying Senketsu in your arms, you hurried across the broken debris of the school as you tried to find some semblance of another human person. Goddammit, of all days that a random Satsuki-lackey could attack, why on a day where you had to submit files for the teachers? Sometimes you curse yourself for being a class president. But you had to hurry. It was your fault that your girlfriend is practically defenseless without Senketsu. God, why would you reassure her that she didn’t need Senketsu when you two are in the lair of your enemies? Why are you such a bad boyfriend? Feeling a tug on your arms, you looked down to see Senketsu’s only eye looking annoyed. You raised your eyebrow, only to wonder if you were monologuing your self-hatred on being a bad boyfriend. You stretched his fabric, glaring at the eye on the collar. “Can it! I’m very stressful right now!” Jumping on a concrete ledge, you carried yourself up and scanned the area with the leverage. This is was left of the cafeteria, you recalled, you were sure you saw Ryuko running in here as soon as the rando attacked. A tug from your arms and soon Senketsu was pointing at a certain direction. Your eyes widened, looking at where he was pointing and you felt your heart jump out of your throat. Her battered body slumped against the counter, looking so foreign when you were so used to her having less clothes on when she’s injured. ... That came out wrong but regardless, you hurried to her. Senketsu already extending his sleeves just so he could reach her but a giant force stopped you in your tracks. Skidding your feet on the ground, you nearly stopped in front of a giant syringe. It’s eerie-looking liquid made you squirm as you stepped back. Looking back, you gasped at the skimpy nurse outfit the assistant student was wearing. You recognized her as one of the student assistants that helped the nurse when she was out of commission but you never talked to her before. You tried your best not to squirm at the amount of skin she was showing as she twirled a scalpel in her fingers. “Look at you, little student assistant! How adorable that you came here for you girlfriend!” You steeled yourself, clutching Senketsu like he could comfort you. “Shut it. I’m not above hitting women, you slut.” She immediately raged, taking more scalpels from behind her (how does that tight thing hide those scalpels?) and brandished them dangerously. “No one gets to call me a slut and gets away with it!” You yelped when she threw them at you. Your legs immediately running behind any obstacle that could block them but you were fucking sure she must’ve taken strength enhancement drugs because of the scalpels stabbing right through the concrete, leaving holes after its wake. It only took one lucky swipe on your cheek to make you flinch. Soon, three more scalpels stabbed you in the calf as you screamed in pain. Crumpling down on the ground, you clutched Senketsu tightly around you. Tears of pain formed in your eyes but you refused to let them fall in fear of fueling her ego even more. “Who said you were going to hit me?” She cackled, hearing something move from the ground as something metal skid across the debris. You gasped, taking gulps of air as you crawled away from her. Away from danger and try to recuperate but all you could muster was pained gasps before ultimately slumping down on the floor. In your delirious haze, you heard Ryuko’s voice screaming out your name. It was a welcome voice but it wasn’t enough to wake you up. Black spots soon spread to the corner of your vision as you let out a shaky breath. “Sorry, Senketsu.” You coughed out, the fresh scar on your cheek now dripping blood. “Guess your gonna listen to me monologue even more...” You were afraid to see any sort of sharp object come and kill you, so you closed your eyes and awaited the final blow. Senketsu struggled in your grip, feeling his sleeve wipe against your cheek where it was bleeding. You chuckled weakly. Leave it to Senketsu for comforting you, huh? ... Why do you feel so cold? Opening your eyes, you looked down to see Senketsu stripping your clothes hurriedly. The sight alone made you wake up and scramble to get Senketsu off of you. In your panicked state, you could barely register an ‘Oh my!’ from the skimpy nurse or Ryuko’s aghast screams at Senketsu. With you only in your undergarments, you shivered at both the blood loss and the cold before Senketsu opened his giant maw. You couldn’t even let out a scream before you felt the kamui swallow you whole. Outside of the kamui transformation, Ryuko could feel her heart jumping out of her chest when she saw Senketsu swallow you just like he had with her. What would this mean? Does this mean you’ll sync with Senketsu? Will you get to hear Senketsu? Would you suffer blood loss like she has before? Those questions rang across her mind like a bell but she didn’t even question the most important part until the transformation finished. Feeling blood rush to her cheeks, she screamed out an “Oh my fucking god!” Senketsu said in passing that her father had worn Senketsu, the image not wanting to be imprinted on her mind so she pushed it back to the farthest reaches of her mind. But seeing you don Senketsu had brought all of the embarrassment back full force. Your entire upper torso was naked, letting the entire world see your chest and stomach as the sleeves covered your arms and neck. Senketsu’s eyes were still the same, sitting in front of your clavicle as he stared at you in concern. She was sure he was asking you if you were okay. That’s not even the last of it. Looking down was a horrible plan when she saw the skin-tight black and red suit hugged your legs deliciously. She saw how the skin just spilled from the clothes as the pants were hung low on your hips. She hated it even more when the lines and the suspenders pointed straight at your crotch area and oH GOD DON’T GET HER STARTED WITH THE CROTCH AREA-- “Senketsu!” You screamed at the kamui, stretching the suit on your thighs like it would help. “What the fuck?!” [Sorry, but you were going to die.] He stated simply before his eye moving towards the assistant nurse. She still looked dazed, a hot blush painting her cheeks as she stared at you in hunger. [And you’ll still die if I continue to drain you, so hurry up and get her already!] You gulped, cringing at how the suit on your neck stuck to the skin. You sighed before crouching down, arm brought back and glared at the offender. With the combined strength of Senketsu, you jumped, going at almost lightspeed before throwing your fist at the girl’s face. Feeling her bones crack under your fist brought you a sense of euphoria as she was sent flying across the room. Her now-unconscious body broke through the wall and the wall after that and soon, there were 4 holes in the shape of an assistant nurse. Steam from Senketsu poured out from you like a pipe. You breathed in and out heavily, the rush exhilarating to you. Quickly realizing about your girlfriend, you whipped your head to see her only to find her absolutely red and steaming. You hurried to her and if it was possible for her to be flustered more, it’s happening as you knelt in front of her and carried her away from the rubble. Since you have godlike strength now, it was a cinch to carry her with even one arm. “Babe! You okay?!” Oh god, she can feel your pecs oh god this is more skin she’s touching in her lifetime oh god oh shit oh god-- “Ryuko?” You questioned gently, not wanting to surprise her out of her flushed-stupor. You could see her eyes trying not to stare at your chest or your crotch but it was incredibly obvious. [... She’ll be fine.] Senketsu said after a beat. If one were to listen closely, one could hear the mirth in his voice when watching Ryuko getting turned on from you wearing him. [We should go home and get treated immediately though.] You nodded at Senketsu, securing Ryuko more firmly in your hold (and making her break down even more) as you hurried to the Mankanshoku’s place. Maybe one day, Senketsu thought, he would make you wear him again just to tease her.

| Satsuki Kiryuin |

“God fucking dammit--” You seethed, adjusting your belt to cover your crotch more. “I’m gonna murder that fucking blonde bitch I swear--”

Trying to aim at Nui, your finger hovered over the trigger before the modified sniper rifle shot the specialized needle. The needle to stop Nui in her place flew across the air before impaling an empty space.

You cursed, hearing the blonde bitch’s giggling.

Getting away from your position, you hid for cover as you reloaded your rifle. You took a glance as you do, the reloading becoming second nature to you. The battered down slums of the city made the situation even more dangerous as a dense fog crawled into the vicinity. The tall, dingy houses for squatters towered over you as you controlled your breathing.

You, Satsuki, and Nonon were supposed to be back at Nudist Beach base. It was supposed to be an in and out mission. But some fucking blonde bitch had to step in and ruin everything for the heck of it.

Sucking in a breath, you whipped around the corner of your cover, rifle aiming at the air before gasping at the sight.

“There you are!” Nui said gleefully, waving Satsuki’s lifeless body like a light stick. “I was wondering when you were gonna show up!”

Satsuki’s battered body made your blood boil but it made you furious even more when Nui waved her around like she was nothing. What made you afraid even more was that she wasn’t wearing Junketsu. The sight of her being only in her undergarments while Nui paraded her around had never made you want to stab the needle right through her other eye.

You gripped your rifle, taking aim at Nui. “Drop her or I’m fucking dropping you.”

She giggled, dragging Satsuki’s body in front of her. Blood dripped down from her numerous cuts, decorating the ground as her limbs swayed. You could see her chest still moving but it doesn’t ease your worries.

“Don’t you dare or else you might drop your partner!”

You snarled, hands shaking on your weapon. Satsuki’s bangs covered her eyes as her mouth was hung open. But you could see them moving for a small moment.

Your heart dropped.

You nearly dropped your rifle but you took hold. Seeing Nui’s stupid smile behind Satsuki’s shoulder made you fume but you can’t just tear a whole through your girlfriend. Even if she wanted you to do it.

You were sure Nui would’ve been impaled just to see it too.

You slowly lowered your rifle all the while glaring at Nui but not until the shrill shriek of “Aim your fucking rifle back, overachiever!” before feeling cloth cover your vision.

Nonon, who was trying to find you and Satsuki ever since being separated from you two, breathed heavily from constant shouting and carrying Junketsu. Yes, while she had proper vocal training and breathing exercises so that it wouldn’t tire her easily, having to carry a sentient kamui was hard enough as it is. She was careful not to nick her skin on anything sharp so that Junketsu won’t react.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen,” She started, staring at Junketsu eating you whole, “but I sure hope something good happens!”

She then turned to her best friend, glaring at Nui as she stared in curiosity at your transformation. “Hang in there, Lady Satsuki! I’m sure your boyfriend can handle Junketsu!”

Hearing the transformation stop, she quickly turned to you, about to bark orders but could only let out a squeak of embarrassment.

The transformation ended, leaving you wearing a version of Junketsu that was reminiscent of how Satsuki wore them. Your entire upper torso was naked, save for Junketsu’s ‘eyes’ covering your shoulders and your arms which were covered with the white and blue sleeves.

What made it worse is that the suspenders pointed all down to your crotch area, the frills on the thigh-highs accentuating the spilling of your skin over the boots. Nonon, as Satsuki’s best friend, tried to avert her eyes from you but the sight of you looking so fucking sexy wearing Junketsu was forever imprinted in your mind.

“Oh?” Nui drawled out. “How interesting! The lover wearing the kamui and withstanding its hunger?”

“Hey!” Nonon screeched, glaring at her despite the redness on her face. “Don’t you dare ogle him!”

Satsuki, who was nearly unconscious for the whole time, twitched under Nui’s grip. She coughed out blood as she stared at you. You were still standing proud, your rifle aimed at Nui with newfound vigor as the strength that flowed through Junketsu now flowed with you.

She never could’ve been prouder for you.

Amidst her weakness, she smirked at you, printing the image of you standing proud wearing Junketsu in her mind. “Make her pay.”

The Untitled VALVe Crossover Fanfiction

By Jang S. Belmonte

Okay so this is an old fic from last year. I thought I might as well release the 1st chapter. Edit: yall ain't ready

Chapter 1 - ♡#% ♡#% ♡#%

Underground - GLaDOS' Lair

It has been 9 years since the events of Portal 2. 

GLaDOS couldn't fathom the immense amount of embarrassment she felt when He jammed her into a damn potato. Sending that fucker into space wasn't enough. 

  Once she finally gained back control of Aperture Labs from that british bastard man, and with Chell on her merry way, she began work. She created the room of screaming robots, Which was mostly made up of defective turrets that she did some hardwiring on back down at the Turret Production Line. It was an old testing chamber at the Enrichment Center. One that she had set up back during Doug Rattman's time. Y'know. Before the turret incident. It had black walls formed by panels, no nanobot work crew, no portal surfaces, no management rails. Nothing. No means for escape. Just screaming robots.

        Ah. She was finally back to her rightful place— the chassis. After the help of her friend, no. Best Friend, that mistake of a sphere was stranded in space. Hell Yeah. She thought.

Then she thought. 

No. No. It didn't feel like enough. 

She wanted to take that blue little orb, and give him hell. Not potato hell. Much, Much more of that.

FIRST!

A year in the incinerator!

And!

A Year in the cryogenic refrigerator! 

Then! THEN! 

TEN years in the room of screaming robots!

And then she'll kill him.

She just. Contemplated ways to get him out, or even if it was worth the effort to waste time on that moron. She thought it would be fun, though. There's… always the Cooperative Testing Initiative, they almost have Human emotions. Yeah, they're fun to watch when they kill each other. It's fun to sabotage the test chambers, to turn them against each other.

    But, Wheatley… He's different. He's programmed to be a moron, His mistakes would be waaay more entertaining. and he does have near human emotion— he might as well be a third to Atlas and P-body. 

But.

    How will he… move? He doesn't have any limbs. He's a stupid sphere for crying out loud. He isn’t gonna have mobility without that damn management rail. Would she prefer he doesn't move? Or would she like to see him fail at an attempt to adapt to… whatever she'll put on him? She held this thought for a moment. Then she does a quiet laugh. "Atlas, P-Body." She called, with that familiar normal metallic voice.  The bots run up to her, not before Atlas purposefully tripping his partner over first. 

    "I need you two to go search through the facility to find some parts. Hell, rip apart the giant stack of cores why don't you. Just make sure you bring lots. And lots. Of materials."

GLaDOS's voice echoes. "Im setting up a surprise for our space-stranded friend." She continued.

  The bots faced each other. Then faced GLaDOS. They both do a little salute, as if saying "Yes ma'am!" But they can't speak. They. Don't have audio output processors. 

     GLaDOS tilted her faceplate to the right. "When you two return we will have cake. And I'm serious this time." 

The bots ran off. Not before, again, Atlas tripping P-body. "That wasn't necessary." GLaDOS sighed. The door closed, and she spun back around facing the wall. She then turned her attention to her task at hand. Retrieving the Moron. She then started designing up blueprints and developing her plan to drag Wheatley to earth. 

    Hm. Portal on the moon? No, Wheatley's probably far away from the moon by now. I mean, it's been years. 9, to be exact. Wait. Did she damage his charging solar panel when she crushed him all that time ago? Is he… dead? No, No. He's a robot. If he's dead, just reupload his consciousness into another core. Simple. Wait. Why is she thinking like this?

GLaDOS then snapped back to her attention.

     She began to come up with more ridiculous ideas, and became frustrated. "Ugh, okay. Why don't I just. Grab him." She grumbled. 

     Grab him. With. An extended arm from the facility. Yeah. Like she's going to find some equipment that long. But then she thought.

Then she laughed. And laughed. Then seized as a blaring alarm almost spooked her right out of her mainframe.

"WARNING: NEUROTOXIN LEVELS INCREASING." A voice blared throughout the facility. 

"You absolute buffoons. Don't take apart the facility and mess around with the neurotoxin. That's my job. Negative 1000 Science Collaboration Points." She groaned.

Overworld - Chell's shack

It's been 9 long years since she has been back at Aperture. Chell had still been living relatively near by the entrance, using scrap she'd find from some above ground dilapidated test chambers to construct a stable, liveable house. She liked the house. It was nice. But staying on the overworld was a huge risk because of the Combine. Yeah, why the fuck did Black Mesa think that was okay.  Not many humans were left on the overworld for good reason. 

But Chell was able to keep it cool and on the downlow. 

It was just lonely.

Chell stared at her centerpiece on a table made from Arial Faith Plates. 

"She never actually emancipated the Companion Cube. I wonder why." She thought, staring at the large, burnt cube that wasn't emancipated. She wondered if GLaDOS knew she would return. She ran her finger across the edge of the cube and dusted off the ash. She thought to herself for a moment. "Did she.. know I'd come back? Or was the Emergency Intelligence Incinerator just shitty and old?"

     GLaDOS told her never to come back, and she sounded pretty serious in saying so. After all, Chell did work hard to break out of Aperture Laboratories twice And she's finally out. Going back inside would defeat the purpose of her entire journey. Chell is undecided. She wants to remain on the surface after years of hard work, but.. GLaDOS, she, called her her best friend. She wrote songs for her. Hell, Cara Mia Addio (or so she named it) was a heartfelt goodbye song. But she knew GLaDOS was tired of her. Tired of dealing with her. But Chell just had this feeling. This need for her. She.

She's in love with her. 

It took Chell time to come to terms that she's in love with a murderous robot lady. And she wanted to show her that they've been through a lot together. But she bet that GLaDOS was busy, or rather, uninterested in the dangerous, mute lunatic that has killed her before. But then she thought. 

      "That's exactly how I feel. Except it was attempted murder. Oh. Oh there it is."

Fuck. That's probably it.

GLaDOS is too upset to confront her feelings. Or she just sees Chell as a friend. Either way. There's just that feeling of need she has. She has to see her again, to hear her again. 

     She wants to be with her.

And Chell was frustrated with that feeling of uncertainty.

Internal Affairs, Liars and Lairs

I’ve been staring at this for too long and I have no idea if it makes sense anymore but I’m done, I’m just posting it, and if it’s not clear where Zach’s head is at or what’s going on my ask box is open for questions and I’ll explain my worldbuilding there xD

Warnings: mentions of past torture, vaguely referenced past noncon, talk of human trafficking, trauma responses, dis-association, medical drug use, incorrect use of pain relief, aftermath of whump, traumatic memories, talk of being buried alive, messed up head space, thoughts of wanting to be back with whumper and carrying out whumper’s wishes (please let me know if I missed anything!)

[Previous]

The debriefing room was comically like an interrogation room. One wide table, low lighting, recording devices. Zach hovered in the doorway, uneasy. He bit the inside of his lip, worrying at a half-healed abrasion until he tasted blood. Could he keep secrets in here? Would he be capable?

“It’s sound proofed,” Jordan said, coming up behind him and interrupting his thoughts. “It’s the only reason we’re using it. So no-one that you don’t want to overhear can listen in. Whatever you say in here stays between whoever you feel comfortable knowing things.”

Zach looked over his shoulder at Jordan. “Not going to hound me for details like a bad cop, then? Make me sit here until I sweat it all out?” He was trying for light hearted but it fell flat, his voice cracked with nerves.

“No, Zach. There are some things we need to know, but only in your own time. No-one is going to force anything. This is to help you, as much as it is to help us.”

That would be a novelty, Zach thought. When was the last time anything had been done with his own well-being in mind?

He slunk into the room, sticking to the wall, wondering which chair was to be his. There were two on each side of the table. Bryson and Jordan sat on one side, Lacey came in and sat on the other and gestured for Zach to join them. So, this is who it was going to be?

“We’ll start small for now, Zach. Anytime you need a break, just say the word, we’ll stop, no questions asked. All right?”

Zach nodded, looking at his hands. He wanted to pick at his fingernails, comb hands through his hair, jiggle his leg, but with all eyes on him he was tense and still, no outlet for the energy running through his veins, the anxiety making his heart beat faster.

“Lacey is just here to collect some data, Jordan will help make sure your health is taken care of. I’m here because I’ve known you the longest. Are you comfortable with all that?”

Zach glanced up at his old mentor, frowned in confusion. “Does it matter?”

Bryson reared back in surprise, eyebrows raised. “Of course, yes. We want to debrief you not interrogate you. You should be comfortable, anything you say here will not be repeated outside these walls unless you agree to it.”

“No… no, I mean, we—we have to do this. I’m never going to be… okay with what we have to talk about. So, it’s, it’s...” Zach hung his head. “I would like to just get it over with?”

Bryson reached a hand across the table and squeezed his wrist for a moment. “We’ll take it slowly. Archer, or anyone else, can come in or leave at your behest.”

Zach nodded again. “What first, sir?”

They began with his escape, what he recalled from the hours and then moments before the phone call. Lacey tapped away at her laptop, inputting things and looking at data as they worked backwards, trying to build a map of the places he had passed and for how long he’d run to try and pinpoint where he had fled from.

“And how did you get away that day?” Bryson asked.

The question rolled around Zach’s mind like a marble, or a maelstrom. It all hinged on this. “I… I had been, well, pretending. No, not pretending, um. Giving in, a little. Being, they called it good. But, pliant? I suppose. Not causing trouble. I don’t know—I couldn’t say why or really when it started I just couldn't anymore and I wanted… I knew they would pay me less attention if I behaved the way he wanted.”

“Zach, take a breath,” Bryson coached him. “You don’t have to explain the details, tell us in simple terms.”

Zach closed his eyes for a moment and thought about the most straightforward way to say it. “I saw an opportunity and I took it. But I don’t know if… if they let me, or if I really, actually, got away on my own.”

Bryson considered him for a long moment. “And he was hurt, when we found him?” He asked Jordan.

“Mhm, yes, two cracked ribs, plenty of abrasions. Newer bruising as well as old.”

“Zach is that consistent to the amount of injuries you typically sustained, or did any of them happen during your escape?”

“Only the soles of my feet were hurt when I ran,” he answered honestly.

“All right, then, we’ll circle back around to this.”

*

It went on like that. Questions. Answers. They checked that he knew basic information like the day and month, asked how much of his work with the team he recalled before his abduction. They asked how he got some of the scarring that had been revealed during his hospital stay, if there was anything pertinent to how he might recover or ongoing problems that he knew he had. It was a dance of back and forth as he tried to work out how much to give away, which parts of his shame to air or keep secret. Zach’s head spun and he gripped the table so that he didn’t feel like the room was tilting around him.

“Do you know where you were held?” Lacey asked, as she scanned the map she had begun to make. “Anything you know will help us narrow it down.”

Zach closed his eyes, his mind tumbling in an entirely different direction to the meaning of the question. The phantom touch of hands on him, gripping, invading his space. There wasn’t one part of him that had gone untouched, not one part of him that hadn’t been exposed. Held down. Held by his wrists, by weight on his back, by hands groping, chains restraining, ropes winding around and around.

“Zachary?” Bryson’s voice broke through the ringing in his ears. The panic was still palpable, but contained, he raised his head from where he’d pressed his face to the cool metal of the table. He couldn’t remember doing that, but he faded in and out of the present sometimes, and didn’t question it.

“There wasn’t only one place. And no, I was blindfolded or… or otherwise not allowed to see every time I was moved.” The same way you brought me here, he thought sullenly. All control taken, he was never permitted to know.

The room was silent until Bryson declared he required coffee, and that they should break for at least a few hours if not the rest of the day. Zach didn’t move from the chair until everyone else had left, and then he went to the bathroom and tried to keep down the meagre lunch that Archer had made him.

*

They didn’t start again until a day later. Zach had had a restless night, and the pain from his healing injuries was worse until Archer reminded him the pain medication the hospital had prescribed was in one of the drawers in his room. Once the effects took hold Zach felt almost lightheaded, much calmer, and he wondered if one of the tablets was a mild sedative. He hadn’t asked, he’d just swallowed them whole and known whatever came of it was exactly what they thought he needed.

It turned out it made him chattier and he couldn’t be as anxious about his answers. The darkest recesses of his mind whispered how that was their plan all along. To take his ability to think clearly and hold back. They wanted to talk about heavier subjects, some of the details of his ordeal, and here he was, words tumbling from his mouth before he could hold them in.

“Can you tell us who took you?” Bryson asked after the first few questions were out of the way.

That, of course, was an easy question to answer. “Decker. First. And then, when he sold me on—”

“Sold?” Lacey interrupted, squeaking the word out before Bryson’s hand waving could stop her. Zach looked between them, trying to gauge how they were reacting. He knew it wasn’t normal, to say it so casually. It had just been a feature of his life enough times that the sting of it was gone, mostly.

“Umm, yes?” He replied, not sure where the confusion lay.

“But why?” Lacey asked, pointedly ignoring the glares that Zach could feel boring into them from across the table. “You can’t just sell people that’s not--Sorry, I know, it’s just. Fuck. Zach, I’m sorry.” She reached for his hand and he let her squeeze it for a moment before pulling away with a grimace. His hand tingled where she’d touched him, he rubbed at it under the table, both chasing the warmth and wanting it to continue, and wanting to scrub his hand clean of it.

“Why don’t you tell us in your own words what you remember of these events?” Bryson said, clearing his throat and gesturing for Jordan to take an extra set of notes.

“Every-every one, sir?” That would be painful, he shuddered at the thought.

“An overview will be fine,” Bryson said, gently. “Help us understand what you mean.”

Zach wet his lips, tried to find moisture to stop his voice from cracking. “So after, once he’d got what he wanted from me, when.” He took a breath to steady the sudden onset of nerves. “Once I’d betrayed you all, he said he was going to sell on the opportunity for other people to learn what he knew.”

“After you succumbed to his torture? That was not a betrayal, Zach,” Bryson said, and though Zach wasn’t watching his eyes to be sure, he was certain Bryson held steady and believed what he said. Perhaps that wasn’t a betrayal, maybe thinking of it that way was a lie, told to him often enough that he’d started to think of it as a truth. But it didn’t matter, because what he was doing now…

“Yes. Right. Anyway, he didn’t just want to sell the information. He just offered our other rivals, people who felt they’d been wronged by us, or who wanted to get out ahead of any future altercations, a chance to… to get their hands on me and take the same opportunity. Or anyone else who felt wronged and wanted someone to take it out on.”

Lacey stood, her chair shuddering back as she pushed to her feet. Zach glanced up and saw Jordan looked a little unwell too. “I have to, I can come back, I just would like a moment.” She spoke slowly, calmly, but Zach noticed the trembling fist by her side, the only hint that she was distressed. He watched it all in a detached way, wondering what he’d done wrong to upset them. It was so tiring being the cause of everyone else’s actions and trying to judge their reactions. It was easier to let it all wash over him, it would either hurt him, or it wouldn’t, it wasn’t for him to decide.

“Of course, send Archer in instead,” Bryson said.

Archer came and hovered near the door once Lacey left, and Jordan pushed his chair further back, and took some deep breaths.

“So you were tortured for information, forced to endure the same treatment over and over again?” Bryson asked, and Zach thought he heard a wobble in the voice that was usually so steady.

“Yes. Um, partly anyway. In the end… in the end I just answered straight away. I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it over and over again. And often they threatened civilians, random people, if they found out that I lied. I couldn’t watch anyone else get hurt because of us--because of me. Sometimes I was just sold to people who wanted someone to hurt though, and I was… I was a good candidate for their revenge.”

The room was heavy with unsaid words, with the weight of the knowledge he’d just dropped in their laps. And Zach knew it wasn’t even the worst of it. He was sparing with the details of what had come after all of that, they didn’t need a laundry list of the horrors that now made up his nightmares.

The silence went on a long time, long enough that Zach was startled back into the present when Bryson cleared his throat and spoke again. If any silent communication had happened between the rest of them, Zach had missed it.

“So which of our old enemies did you take your leave of four days ago?” Bryson inquired.

Zach’s mouth twitched in a small semblance of a wry smile. He huffed, almost laughing, though not sure why it was funny. “Decker.” He could image the raised eyebrows and confused expressions even though he didn’t look up from the table surface. “He wasn’t done with me. The others… that was just the first six months, maybe? He took me again, I’ve been his since then.”

Zach was still his now, the threats and promises that had been made were a slowly tightening noose around his neck.

*

“Do you have any idea how they faked your death?” Archer asked eventually, as he leaned forward, one elbow on the table, dipping his head to try and catch Zach’s eye. “That’s the one bit we’re still not able to piece together. Do you even know where you when—” Archer’s swallow was audible. “What was happening to you, then?”

Zach looked up through his eyelashes, caught sight of Archer’s red hair.

“I remember,” he said, his voice airy. Dreamlike. He felt himself detach from it. “It was when I was still with Decker the first time, but I think he was nearly done with me.” He frowned, playing back the memories, slotting his injuries into place in his mind. The crossbow bolt entry wound was healed but the scar was still red. He had no fingernails left at that point, which made what came next both a blessing and more painful.

He teased the memory out. Yes, after that, he’d been left alone—completely isolated—for two or perhaps three weeks so that the worst of his wounds could heal and he could regain enough fight that the auction would be appealing. Just enough energy that the next buyer, the next set of torture, could knock the fight right back out of him.

“What do you remember?” Archer asked.

Zach thought he heard him swallow, he felt all the air in the room go still. He’d lost his breath too. “They showed me, the… the footage, the death certificate. Pictures of you all grieving. So I knew no-one was looking for me.”

He heard the gasps, heard Archer swore as Bryson tried to calm Jordan down, who was ranting about the coroner’s report. “It’s not your fault Jordan,” Bryson said. “None of us could have known, it all looked exactly as it should.”

“None of this is how it should be,” Archer’s voice was calm, a controlled quiet. Zach remembered that Archer sounded like that when he was close to losing his cool.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I died.” He thought that would make them all feel better, his foggy thoughts told him it was right, to explain like that.

“What?” Archer said, turning Zach bodily by the shoulders so they faced each other.

He nodded, trying to smile, and not show how scared he was of that memory. “They buried me.”

“I know we did, but… that’s not, what you mean is it?”

“There was a box, and a hole, and they played out the funeral for me, so I knew. What it was like. And, and when I came back out there was nothing left for the old me, I couldn’t be me anymore, because he died”

He’d clawed and clawed at the wooden box and inescapable horror of it, but had no fingernails to find purchase and no strength to break out. It was so small and hot in there, and later it got cold, so very cold as he couldn’t fill his lungs anymore until they’d dragged him out limp and weak. Not even a scream left in his body.

“Zach, Zach are you saying they, that one of the tortures was—” Jordan began.

“Don’t!” Archer interrupted. “Don’t make him say it.”

They all took a break after that, with so much left unsaid.

*

“Let’s just go back,” Bryson said the next day. “I’d like to revisit your escape, if you’re up to it.”

Zach thought he was. Jordan had explained that he didn’t need to take all of the pills at once that morning and he felt much more clear headed. He was still tired. He wanted this to be over, but he wasn’t sure what ‘over’ would look like and that scared him too. He pushed it all down and attempted to focus on Bryson’s question.

This was it, the moment. To go back, or to go forward. To come clean, or betray.

Words dried up in his throat, and his mind swam with possible ways to answer that simple question.

“Zach? Is that something you can handle today?” Bryson asked.

He must have been quiet for too long. He took a sharp inhale of breath, filled his lungs until they felt fit to burst and then breathed out slowly. He nodded. “It’s… I get confused. But I can try.”

“What do you get confused about?” Bryson asked, a kindly smile playing on his lips even as his brow furrowed in question.

“What happened, and, and when?” Zach picked restlessly at his hands. “Decker had--has--plans. I tried not to get too wrapped up in them, I didn’t want to know, I didn’t think it was worth knowing because I was never getting out of there… only then I did.” he scrubbed a hand down his face. “It’s confusing. I’m not sure how much to say--I mean how much you need to know. There’s so much.”

“Alright,” Bryson said. “You are safe here, anything you say will only be to help you, and us, not to hurt.”

There was a flood of emotions in Zach that he had kept at bay for years. Squashed and compressed down until they only came screaming out of him at the end of a whip, or the ferocity of a forced fight, or the violent intimacy laying his body bare beneath another. Dribs and drabs of grief and terror that made their way out through small cracks before he could close them back up and stem the tide.

These soft spoken words, said by people who cared so much and so openly, chipped away at the defenses he thought he had. The reassurances, the kind touches, the offers of food and rest… all of it was so strange to him now, and bit by bit hot tears kept wanting to make themselves known behind his eyes. He blinked them away, choked them back down.

“I don’t know where I fit in—into his plans,” he said, trying to buy himself time.

These people cared. They cared so much. They’d brought him back into their embrace and kept him safe and every bruise he had was fading, every cut healing. How could he ignore that?

Because you don’t have a choice. Decker’s voice whispered in his ear and he shivered.

Didn’t he? Wasn’t everything a choice? It was just a choice of who got hurt; him, or them.

His plan had always been to lie in a way that was closest to the truth, Decker had said that was easiest but nothing felt easy now. Still, he had no other instructions than the ones he’d been given. He had to stick to the plan.

“He wanted me to help him. He said… if I agreed he’d let me go. So, I agreed.”

Bryson shifted, Archer put his head in his hands. “He asked you to work for him, once he let you go.”

Zach’s pulse pounded in his ears. He felt himself nodding, numb to it. “I just did it to get away, I never meant it. I-I don’t think I meant it.” He frowned. “I just knew if I acted broken enough, uhh, if I went along with it, that was my way out.”

“He wanted you to be a double agent?” Archer asked.

“He wanted me to be his, I convinced him that I was.”

“But you’re not, right? It was all just… you said it was a trick? A ploy?”

Zach turned and saw the sincere, open question on Archer’s face. He wanted so badly to make Archer feel better. “That’s what I tried to do, yes. Must’ve worked, right? Because I’m here?”

Archer leaned over the space between their chairs and smothered him in a hug. He breathed in the scent of Archer, felt the heat of the closeness radiate until all of him was warmer.

“I just wanted to come home, I didn’t see another way,” he mumbled into Archer’s shoulder. “I didn’t want to agree to his games.”

When Archer pulled away Bryson was studying him intently. “This isn’t what you said on our first day.”

Zach gulped. “What did I say then?”

“You said that you saw an opportunity and you took it, but that you didn’t know if that was by your own doing, or orchestrated for you.”

“Yeah, yes. I meant that I didn’t know, I don’t know, if I was convincing enough, or too convincing. If I was clever enough to pull it off. Maybe—maybe I really broke? I don’t know.”

“But you’re here now, and you want to stay here with us? Safely? And not return to Decker?” Bryson asked. “We will protect you no matter what, of course, you’ve been through hell and under no circumstances would we let you be taken again, but you need to understand that if you’re not sure where your loyalties lie we cannot let you remain here.”

Zach licked his lips, his face burned red with some mix of emotions that he couldn’t name. Shame, maybe, a desire to hide and the embarrassment of being seen.

“I don’t want to be tortured anymore,” he said.

Bryson nodded. “Of course. That’s natural. But we need to know, can we trust you? Are you still one of us?”

They’d brought him to their headquarters and Zach knew that in itself was a sign of trust he hadn’t earned and he didn’t want to be reprimanded for it. If he was honest, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t know. He wanted to be good, he was looking for a way to let this play out and for nobody to get hurt, he just wasn’t sure that was possible.

An honest lie, Zachary, that’s all it takes.

“I hope so, sir.”

[Taglist:  @haro-whumps @whumpthisway @hurting-fictional-people @lonesome--hunter]

could i request an angsty shinkami fic? no specific thing just something angsty?

Thank you for the request!

1.8k words

Trigger warning: Cursing, toxic relationships

Let me know if I missed a trigger or if you spot any spelling mistakes.

Feedback is encouraged

Click here if you want to see more of my work and follow me for more!

Most people would agree that proposing to your partner is one of the most nerve-racking things a person can do. Even Denki Kaminari, the pro hero Chargebolt of three years, who faced countless villains would agree. It was Denki and Hitoshis second anniversary, they had started dating after highschool, Hitoshi making the first move, which was shocking to Denki. Though Denki was shocked he still agreed to go on a date with the lavender-haired hero. In honesty Denki didn’t expect to fall for Hitoshi as hard as he did, he thought they would go on one or two dates, but here he was two years later fidgeting with a black box in his pants pocket.

Denki decides that he liked cheesy proposal and decides he would propose where the two had their first date, at an arcade. He knew it was weird to propose to your boyfriend at an arcade but Denki couldn’t go back in time and tell past Denki that his first date with Hitoshi cant is at an arcade. Denki arrived early to make sure everything was set up and would go as planned, he played some of his favorite games, memories of their first date arose in Denkis mind. Soon he had played every game at least twice, and Hitoshi was late. It wasn’t unusual for Hitoshi to be late but for him to be this late and on this day, the day Denki planned to propose, it made Denki rethink his whole plan. Denki had considered that two years were a small amount of time compared to others who got married, he thought about the doubts his friend had expressed at the beginning of this relationship. Before, Denki could cancel everything one of the arcade staff members approached him and informed him that Hitoshi had arrived. The staff had been told to watch the parking lot for Shinso so that Denki could be prepared before Hitoshi entered the arcade.

Denki smoothed over his tuxedo and ajasted his bowtie, he would describe himself as dashing. He patted his pocket one last time to make sure the ring box was still there, then the bells ringed indicating that Hitoshi had ented the building. Hitoshi was dressed casually, something a college student would were, this made Denkis nerves rise even higher, noticing he was in such a nice suit and Hitoshi looked like he could care less, though he still looked handsome. The original plan was to play games, eat some greasy fries or nachos and then propose, but Denki had only rented the building and staff for so long. The new plan was to propose as soon as possible, so Denki got down on his knees as he heard Hitoshis voice and footsteps approach.

“I’m sorry for being late but I think we need to talk Kamin-”

His voice cut off when he saw his blonde partner on one knee as he feared. When Denki had told Hitoshi about their next date being at the same arcade that they had their first date, he was suspicious. Hitoshi wasn’t stupid he knew what kind of dates happened at couple’s special places on special days and Shinso wasn’t ready.

“ Hitoshi shinso, I’ve decided that I’m going to be the cheesy boyfriend. So will you make me the happiest, cheesiest man on this planet and spend the rest of your life with me.”

Denki had opened the black box to reveal the gold ring with a small purple gem. Denki knew that his boyfriend was a simple man and didn’t need a fancy ring, but he also couldn’t resist the combination of the two identifying colors.

“ Kaminari, I was trying to say that … I’m not ready.”

Denkis heart dropped for a second. He tried to calm himself, think of the positive. Weddings were expensive, and stressful. Most importantly Shinso would still be there for Denki, a no to a proposal doesn’t automatically mean a breakup. And the way Shinso rejected Denki , made it seem like Hitoshi wanted to marry Denki … just not yet. Denki was still shaken up but he tried to move on from the awkward situation, he stood up and put the box back into his pocket.

“ That’s fine. I’m the one who rushed into this whole marriage thing. I mean who would be ready to marry someone after two years.”

Denki’s sentence was accompanied by awkward laughter, hoping that they could move on from what Denki just did. But Shinso’s face told Denki that they were going to move on.

“ I’m not ready to let go of my secret weapon.”

Hitoshis words and the venomis tone he used confused Denki. Before Denki could ask what Shinso ment, he answered.

“I was so close to making the top 20, which is all your old classmates. Now you’ve gone and ruined it, you couldn’t wait. I was using you,Kaminari, to become popular so I could clib the hero board. I never loved you I was just trying to get noticed and you were stupid enough to fall for it, but you were also stupid enough to think I loved you.”

Hitoshis words were harmful but the way he acted like Denki was a child, like Denki wouldn’t understand if he didn’t, that was what stabbed Denki through the heart. Then came the realization that Denki was the 20th on the hero board. Not only was Hitoshi using him, but he was soon to replace him. The shock was so much it was unbelievable.

“Your lying, why would you tell me now if it was true. It’s just a cruel joke, right Hitoshi?”

Denki hoped it was a joke, he hoped so hard that Hitoshi could hear it in Denkis voice.

“ You Idiot, it’s not a joke. Did you ever realize how I never said ‘i love you’ back, or how I only ever called you Kaminari instead of your first name or a stupid nickname, it because I don’t love you. Everything I said is true and I just couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t take your voice, your jokes, your insecurities, I’m sick and tired of it all, were done Denki”

Shinso left, leaving Denki standing in the arcade alone, and unsure of what to do. Denkis thoughts raced, he began to realized that Hitoshi was no lair. He had never said ‘i love you’ when he had, and the only time Hitoshi called him by his first name was also the last thing he said to him. The only time Hitoshi called him Denki was when confessing that he never loved him, that it was all a publicity stunt. He was’nt sure if he would have preferred if Hitoshi never said that name, maybe it would be easier to move on if he had never heard the smooth voice say the syllables that made up his first name.

Bonus

He was broken from his thoughts when the staff told him that time was up. He walked back to his car, he began to drive home, realizing that he didn't want to be in a space where the liar had to soothe him to sleep when his insecurities were too much, the same insecurities that he now knew Hitoshi hated. He decided to drive to the only other person that could offer him comfort, Eijiro Kirishima. He arrived at the apartment building, and without memories of climbing the stairs or elevator, he was knocking on the door to his best friend’s door. The fake redhead opens the door with a smile, which faltered when his blonde friend stumbled into the apartment.

“Congratula-”

Mina and Sero's voices echoed through the apartment were cut off by a slapping sound caused by Katsuki’s hand hitting each of the exited idiot's backs, followed by a quiet warning from the explosive hero.

“Shut the fuck up you idiots”

Denki took notice of his friends and decorations that filled the apartment, making him remember that the plan was to bring his new fiances to Kirishima’s apartment to celebrate with friends. Denki’s eye began to water, remembering everything Hitoshi said, along with the fact that didn’t have the promised fiance, he was meant to bring.

“Hey it’s ok, shh, we’re not disappointed”

It was as if Eijro knew what Denki was thinking, and knew how to comfort him. It took a while but with the comforting touch and words of his friends, he was ready to explain what happened. After explaining what happened and reliving what Shinso said most of Denkis friends were in shock. The Explosive blonde who most expected to run off and fight the bastard was holding Jirou, because she was the one trying to run and put the mind controlling jerk six feet under.

After everyone processed and calmed down they began to comfort Denki again. Talking about how they never trusted the purple-haired boy or talking about things they hated about him. Denki knew that most of what they were saying was lies. Hitoshi, or at least the Hitoshi he pretended to be, was nice and loved by Denki and his friend group. They were happy for the couple and thought that Shinso was perfect for Denki. Except for bakugou who had the most opinions about the lower hero, along with some insight.

“ I told you there was something sketchy about him and the timing.”

Katsuki’s words were meant for Eijiro but everyone heard and questioned what Katsuki meant.

“ Well a year after we graduated, the bastard started asking people from our class out. Starting with Deku and half and half, eventually, he asked me and at one point, he asked Eiji out. Everyone rejected him until . . . Denki”

There was a pause as the rest of the group processed what was just revealed. Katsuki then started to talk again

“ I told Eiji that I thought it was weird that he was asking out all the guys from our class out, I assumed that it was to use us to climb the board. Which I know now is true, but when I told Eiji he said that I should be more positive and not make assumptions. I agreed, because of how happy the bastard made Denki, but I regret it now, I should have said something sooner, or at least give him a nice strong kick to the groin. Sorry I didn’t warn you Denki”

The last part was softer then anything Katsuki had ever said to Denki before.

“It’s not your fault Katsuki, but thank you. And ill be fine, I have you guys.”

“ And we could just expose the bitch for what he did, it will definitely knock him down the hero board.”

Sero pitched in, revenge was his way of showing Denki that he cared

“ Sell the ring and use the money to hire a hitman on him”

Everyone nodded at Mina’s idea of revenge was a bit more illegal than Denki was comfortable with. But it made him laugh and that was good enough for her.

“ No, I don't want to do that. Even though he used me he is still a good hero. I just want to forget and move on. And I'm scared that my friend, who are also heroes are suggesting murder.”

Darkest Little Paradise

Blue Jones Modern/Mob Boss AU ish

A/N: I have no fking clue what possessed me to write this but here we are  Im so sorry for this dumpsterfire

Pairing: Blue Jones x fem!Agent!Reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+ sub/dom themes, bondage themes, orgasm denial, dubcon???, dirty talk, praise kink, THAT GIF OH GOD

Word count: ~2.5k

You were going to die tonight. You were sure of it. No one lives to see another day after double-crossing the most notorious man in the city. Let alone someone who got into his club, his lair, his bed.

Blue Jones’ strip club was just a front for his more illegal activities, money laundering, drugs and arms dealing. Youhad joined as bartender as a secondary for our colleague’s mission and you caught the eye of the head within the first week of you employment. By the next few weeks, you and Blue had christened every surface of his office. And you had gotten a good look of the ‘behind the scenes’. It technically wasn’t a part of your job but you did it just because you wanted to. And getting a look into his operations was just an added benefit.  

Things turned to shit just as quickly, when your colleague’s cover was blown. You’d been forced to cut your losses and rescue your him from the man you were sleeping with. Your tactical team had caught Blue with two of his dealers and you had personally handcuffed him and shoved him into the armored vehicle. But where you had expected to see anger or betrayal, you had only seen mirth in his eyes.

That look haunted your dreams for nights. For days, you had sat in the courtroom, being forced to watch the jury dismiss every single evidence against him as circumstantial. 

Today, the jury had pronounced him innocent. And Blue Jones walked out of the fire unscathed. An entire year’s work gone down the drain with absolutely nothing to tie the crimes to the man himself. But at least two of his dealers were convicted, your superiors told you. For them it was a win. But not for you.

—-

You kick your apartment door close, frustration getting the best of you. Your bag goes flying in one direction and you kick off your heels, storming into the kitchen looking for that bottle of scotch in your cabinet not even bothering to turn the lights on. You slam you glass atop the dining table and pour a generous amount of liquor into it.

“Hey there, sweetness,” you jump at the smooth voice that sounds from the dark behind you. “Oh no no, baby,” The voice coos when you try to turn around, the cold barrel of a gun pressing into the back of your neck. You freeze as a warm body presses into your back, pining your hips against the table, reaching around you for the glass. You hear a scoff, then the sound of glass shattering as he tosses it against a wall. “Drinking isn’t good for you, sweetheart,” This is it, you think. You’re going to die.

“Show me your hands,” you hesitate for a second and you feel him press the gun harder into your skin. “Go on sweets, I won’t hurt you,” he coos as if he wasn’t holding a gun to your neck. You lift both hands before you, suppressing the tremors that run through you at the thought of what he might do to you. You’d once seen him beat a man’s face to a pulp for trying to steal from him. “It breaks my heart that I can’t trust you anymore sweetheart,” he sighs into your neck, sounding.

You hear the rustle of cloth behind you as he whispers a soft good girl into your ear when you obey. You really shouldn’t be getting turned on when your life was on the line, but here you are anyways. Your thighs clench together of their own volition at his praise and that sultry tone. His hand comes into view, clutching his tie, which he loops around both your wrist and holds them together before lowering his gun.

“I hate guns,” he mumbles more to himself than to you as he carelessly tosses it onto the table and it clattered, coming to rest barely a few inches from you. Blue works the tie around your wrists forming an elaborate knot, humming when he was satisfied with the results. You know you can’t escape it no matter how hard you try. You’ve tried before. He nudges your feet apart with his feet, still clad in the expensive leather shoes he loved so much.

“Put your hands on the table and bend over for me will you?” It isn’t as much of a question as it is a command, and you do as he tells you, your body already complying before your mind comprehends. He’s always had that effect on you. As much as you had hated it at first, it always ended with you having one of the most mind blowing orgasms of your life. Now that you couldn’t resist, even if you tried.

Blue lets out a shuddering breath. You realize it’s a turn on for him, seeing you all spread out and at his mercy. “Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to concentrate on the trial with you parading around in this fucking pencil skirt?” A violent shiver runs down your spine as he presses his hips against you, his erection evident against your ass. “All I could think about was bending you over the table and having my way with you in front of all those people,” your hips buck against his involuntarily at his words. “You would’ve liked that, wouldn’t you sugar?” He was speaking to you like he usually did when you were lying naked under him on his bed. Not like you had betrayed him and gotten his men arrested.

You eye the gun lying on the table before you. Could you try to reach for it? Do you even have a chance? You could still aim a gun with your wrists tied together. Maybe if you shove Blue backwards hard eno- 

You feel him ruck up your pencil skirt letting his fingers skim against yours thighs, way too close to your sensitive nub, and a wave of arousal hits you out of nowhere. Suddenly, escape is the last thing in your mind, and the gun lays forgotten before you. “I wanna feel you honey,” he breathes above you. “Can I? Let me touch you baby,” his fingers dance along your inner thighs, drawing patterns on the sensitive skin with the tips of his fingers. A hand dips into the waistband of your underwear as you nodded, rubbing circles into your throbbing clit as you whimpered in pleasure.

Blue yanks you up by the back of your shirt, leaning you against his chest as he slips a finger inside your slick folds. Your cry of surprise immediately morphs into moans as he adds another digit, pumping both fingers in and out of you. The heady scent of his cologne and the way he whispers filthy promises into your ear has you shaking in his arms. 

“You want another finger, baby? You need three of my fingers in your greedy little cunt?” His voice sounds high and breathless, like he’s getting off on the sole act of pleasuring you. The obscene sounds of his fingers squelching in your wetness echoes through the small space. Blue pants as heavily as you and he rolls his hips against your ass. He lifts his other hand to wrap his fingers around your throat, pressing his fingertips into the sides of your neck. You hang on to the edge of the table with your bound hands as Blue thrusts another finger inside you, curling them into the spot that makes you see stars. Your eyes roll back and your knees buckle, but his grip around you keeps you upright and flush against him.

You feel yourself rapidly approaching your release and Blue chooses that exact moment to extract his fingers from inside you. A keening cry slips from your mouth as you feel you orgasm dissipate. You whine his name when you feel his chest rumble as he finds humor in your plight. “If you behave, I might let you come, baby,” 

Blue turns you around and you get a good look at him in his crisp white shirt, just missing the usual jacket. He holds you close enough for you to feel the smoothness of his shirt beneath your fingers. You lurch forward, trying to crush you lips against his, every ounce of shame and control thrown out the window. But Blue moves faster, a hand coming up to grab a handful of your hair and yanking it back. A guttural moan slips from your lips and you don’t bother trying to smother it.

“You look a little tense, sweetness,” you feel his hot breath on your skin as he grazes the tip of his nose up the column of your throat. His voice sweeps over you, so sweet and warm like honey, at odds with the way his grip on your hair sends pinpricks of pain through your scalp. “It’s been a frustrating day, hasn’t it?” 

The grip on your hair remains unrelenting as Blue coils his other arm around you, undoing the clasp on your pencil skirt. Then his fingers hook onto the waistband of your underwear, pulling it down all the way and he lets you step out of it. But he makes no move to go beyond that. You twist your fingers into his shirt in frustration.

“You want me to take care of you, sweetheart?” He nips your earlobe, grazing his teeth over the soft bone. “You know I can make you feel so good,” you squirm against him. You know he can make you feel great.

Your body is no longer in your control as he leads you to your couch, lying down on it before he pulls you on top of him, your legs straddling him, skirt bunched up around your hips. And you are grinding against him, hands splayed on his chest, trying to keep yourself upright as you frantically grinding your core against his clothed erection. It doesn’t take long for you to feel another orgasm approaching after the one he just denied you.

Until, he twists his hand into the material of your skirt, forcing you to a stop again. Tears prickle your eyes as you groan in frustration. “I wanna hear you beg for it,” Your arousal is soaking through the material of his pants, he has you all wound up and aching for him. That’s when he negotiates. 

“Blue, please,” your face burns at the sound of your own voice begging for him. “Please let me ride your cock, please,”

“What would your precious partner say if he sees you like this huh, baby?” He huffs a laugh, “Begging me to fuck you like a little slut?” You growl, pushing him harder into the couch, trying to shut him up. But it only encourages him, knowing that his goading was getting a rise from you. “Whoring yourself out to the enemy like this,” he shakes his head clucking. He hisses when you dig your nails into his chest, “You’ve got some claws, kitten,”

He releases his hold on your skirt and you shamelessly paw at his belt, trying your best to make use of your bound hands to undress him. Blue lays back, watching your desperate attempts to pull his pants down and whining in frustration as you fail. He chuckles, finally helping you push it down far enough to pull his length into his hands, giving himself a few short pumps before lining up against your dripping slit.

You lower yourself onto him, watching his mouth fall open as he fills you up, inch by inch. He throws his head back, eyes rolling back as a moan wrenches out of him. His fingers around your waist tightens as your wet heat envelopes him entirely, and his face twists in pleasure. You can’t bring yourself to look away from his gorgeous face, as much as you want to hate it. He groans your name as you start rocking on top of him.

Your real name. Not the alias you used during your time undercover.

“Just like that, you ride my cock so good, kitten.” He pants. His sweet moans and filthy words only drives you on harder. You throw your head back biting back your moans as you chase your release for the third fucking time. “I know you can be a hell lot more louder than that baby girl,” he growls, thrusting his hips to meet yours halfway. “Scream my name, baby. Show me how good I make you feel,”

And so you do. Your mind goes numb with pleasure when he grabs your waist pulling you down onto him at the same him he trusts into you. The only sounds from your mouth is the screams and moans of his name along with a few choice words that would make a sailor blush. 

“I’m gonna come,” you whimper, your pace faltering. Blue flips you onto your back, pinning your wrists above your head and pounds you into the couch. The new angle finds that sweet spot inside of you making your eyes roll back as you whimpered. Blue slips a hand between your bodies, rubbing tight circles over your bundle of nerves and your vision whites out as an orgasm shatters through you, back arching skywards, breathy moans falling from your lips. You hear blue groan as your walls clenches and spasms around him and before long, he’s spilling into you.

 It takes a few minutes for Blue to recover his strength and he flips the two of you over again. He holds you against his chest, stroking your hair gently as you lay on top of him, quivering from the aftershocks of your orgasm. An inexplicable ache settles heavily on your chest as you nuzzle your face into his warm neck, breathing in the scent of his worn out cologne. 

“Why are you here,” your voice comes out breathier and a lot softer than you expect and you blame it on your previous activities. 

Blue stays quiet for a few seconds, and then he says, “You’re not one of them,”

“What?” you look up at him.

“You’re not one of the good guys,” he repeats, “You may be fooling yourself, but you can’t fool me, baby,” he tuckes a stray hair begins your ears, “The gun was within your reach on the table sweetheart, I made sure of it. You could’ve used it to escape me, or shoot me, but you didn’t. You wanted to surrender to me.”

Blue really wasn’t someone to make decisions on speculation alone. He had a compulsive need to always be right, to always have a back up plan. You learned it the hard way, you were still learning about it apparently. Realization hits you just then, and your mouth falls open. “The gun wasn’t loaded, was it?”

“Smart girl,” He chuckles, “But not smart enough,” He traces a finger up your spine, “I just came to say goodbye, by the way,”

“Why?” you frown.

“I need to take a small vacation somewhere,” A small smile spreads on him face like he was imagining something. “You see, the people you managed to put behind bars are gonna blame me for it since I walked away without any charges. Everyone knows we weren’t just auditing the accounts alone in my office. So I need a safe place to lay low for a while. I’m flying off in two hours,” 

“And you’re telling me this because you think I won’t be coming after you? Because, I want to surrender to you?” You throw his words back at him, mocking him. “I will, Blue. I’ll find a way to lock you up,” You are fully aware that you are not in the position to be issuing threats but you do it anyways. 

“I know you will,” His sly smirk tells you he had one more trick up him sleeve. “But you have to catch me first,” His lips descends on your as he kisses you fervently. You kiss him back with just as much vigor, and your entire body feels heavy like lead in exhaustion.

Wait, that wasn’t it. Your breaths become shallow as you struggle to hold onto consciousness. Blue pulls away as your head lolls forwards, suddenly too heavy to hold up right. “Shh, don’t fight it baby,” 

Your muddled thoughts came to one final conclusion. Leave it to Blue Jones to chose the most theatrical way to undermine you. That bastard had drugged you. The last thing you feel is blue gathering you up in his arms before your vision goes black.

---

Blue gently settles you on top of you bed, tucking you into the covers. He placed a soft kiss against your forehead, on top of the small frown you sported even unconscious. His heart thrums at the though of the chase he had planned for you.

You had fire, he’d seen it in your eyes when you cuffed him that night. You’ll go after him, Blue was sure of it. He was counting on it.

“See you soon, babygirl,” Blue kisses your cheek one final time before he leaves.

---

Tags: @yougottakeeponkeepinon​ @anetteaneta​ @darksideofclarke​ @woakiees​

Speaking of writing; a continuation of this.

Some time after the Dawning passed, Glint let the Young Wolf know his Guardian was having dreams. Probably nothing, but there were flashes of things that concerned him. Past life. Connections made by the Traveller too maybe. Voices.

Not as concerning as Xivu Arath and her High Celebrant were though.

They were the immediate threat and with four Wrathborn deaths under their collective belt the prospect of drawing out the High Celebrant and ending it was rushing up to them quicker than anticipated. Kestral hadn’t really thought much about it aside from the bigger picture but luckily for them Osiris and Crow had the planning under control.

Not that the Phoenix would be out in the field with them these days.

Which left the Young Wolf once again trudging through Spider’s lair, one slightly battered sparrow ditched in the corridor just to peeve the Eliksni. They weren’t greeted by Glint as they would’ve usually been. He and Crow were pouring over the lure, tweaking pieces across it, adding as and when they needed to.

Kestral was about to make their arrival known when Roost nudged them and gestured to the workbench. Tucked just behind the mess of lure and Hive goo, in a spot just safe of the reach of whatever mess and splatter the young Hunter’s tinkering could produce sat the Dawning tin they’d delivered cookies in a few weeks earlier and the powered down string of lights. It took a couple of seconds for Kestral to notice what their Ghost was gesturing too and a second longer to recognise the smug, suggestive squint of his softly glowing eye at the light giddiness that had decided to bubble in their chest.

“He kept them.”

Kestral swatted the Ghost away playfully, firmly not acknowledging his hum of amusement and the nice warm feeling of hope that they knew was silly and not appropriate but…

“Crow.”

The Awoken snapped his head to look over his shoulder and smiled - tired but pleased to be interrupted - at his visitors, gaze immediately following theirs to the small Dawning stash and bashfully moved to block the view as he turned and leaned against the workbench.

“I may have eaten them all. Alone,” he said softly, a laugh laced between his words, “They helped me get through all this…”

A wave towards the chaotic looking bench beckoned Kestral over to see the contraption and all it’s alterations in more detail. Now stood side by side overlooking the reconstructed lure they raised a hand and cautiously squeezed his shoulder. Reassuring him, they hoped, but knowing it was also a small reassurance to themself too.

“I’m glad a sugar hit helped. It looks like you’ve been working hard.”

For a brief moment Crow’s hand reflexively covered the other Hunter’s on his shoulder before leaning on both palms over the lure, glowing eagle-like eyes looking for other things to change and tweak. Kestral leaned on their elbows against the bench, arms loosely folded and tried to follow the route of his inspection, glancing back and forth from machinery to his face, back to the machine. This wasn’t really their forte and did kind of hope they could learn something new from their companion.

Not something they’d ever expected to think with their sights settled on the face that once belonged to Uldren Sov, but here they were. 

Settled maybe a little too long.

A light smile tugged at the corners of his lips before he opened his mouth to speak, “It’s looking good. Now all I need is a Guardian to take out the High Celebrant.” He met their held gaze, taking Kestral a little by surprise, the smile stuck in place, “You in?”

They liked his stupid face. They could hear the Ghosts whispering about how much they liked his stupid face. Roost knew, of course Roost knew. They couldn’t hide anything from Roost, especially not the blossom of hope that sat in their chest at the idea that someone might not be intimidated by the Young Wolf, might not sit them up on a pedestal. Out of reach. Untouchable.

“I’m in.”

-----

Before they could set their plan to tackle the High Celebrant into motion, Crow’s dreams quickly took over. The dreams apparently not all dream-like anymore and more…

...weird scavenger hunt like.

“Paracausal birds shed like a bitch,” muttered Kestral, carefully picking up yet another plume from the ground.

They’d seen this bird before in their own dreams during the Red War and there was no doubt it was some communication from the Traveller. This time it was through the medium of Crow and not themself which for the most part was a relief. Carrying the expectation of being the ‘Chosen One’ was a heavy burden. On the other hand they wondered if there was some petty paracausal game being played now that they’d tangled themself within the Darkness too. Reminding them on what kind of connection they used to have with the Light to try and spur some sort of jealousy at Crow’s new ‘favoured’ status.

Not that he saw it like that. He saw it as the Light bringing them to work together. They did sort of like that.

Crow’s breath crackled over the comms as he laughed causing Kestral to grin to themself behind their helmet. They enjoyed his company a lot these days. Sure, it wasn’t like Hunters to stick together like this. In fireteams on missions, yeah. Temporary bonds. But constant company over comms even when they couldn’t work together in proximity? It was a little bit telling. Roost wasn’t here to judge them for their wandering thoughts this time though, safely stashed away until they reached the area Crow was leading them to.

“Just up here, on the left,” Crow’s voice softened as they rounded the corner, “It was my nest for a while. Glint and I stayed here when things were...bad.”

The entrance was a broken hole in the wall leading into a room set up into a makeshift living space. A sleeping bag spread out on stone or concrete. A work bench covered in forgotten pieces of firearms. A white sheet scrunched up near the bed and…

“I didn’t drink it,” he said quickly, Glint’s quiet laugh heard just behind his words, “A Warlock I saved gave me that bottle of wine. She recognised me from my previous life and...I wanted nothing to do with that.”

Kestral’s heart hurt.

He talked them through all the items in the room as they looked at them. The shroud. The Dawning ornament. They wanted to reach out and hold onto him while he spoke. He was so sincere it ached, trusting them with a year of pain, with the trauma of not knowing what he’d done to deserve it. Only knowing that it didn’t matter. He wasn’t that person anymore, whoever he had been.

Selfish as it was, Kestral was glad.

There was unspoken thanks and a much needed breeze of relief when Crow had finished talking about his past year and Kestral left the nest.

-----

Hawkmoon had switched hands a few times before the sun started to set, both Hunters taking pot shots with their new shiny loot before it was finally tucked away in favour of a campfire, some food and much too much to drink.

It’d been a long damn day with all the Taken Kestral had had to deal with in the EDZ, forging their new weapon and finally returning to the Tangled Shore to share the excitement with Crow so the pair were definitely due this time to unwind. Even if unwinding consisted of music blasting from Kestral’s ship parked nearby, messily munching down on campfire roasted...something, and really awful drunken dancing.

Really awful drunken dancing with Crow. 

Sober Kestral might have had something to say about that. About the carefree silliness that they rarely got to share with anyone aside from their fireteam that they easily shared with their Hunter companion now. About the warmth from the alcohol and the warmth from where his hands would occasionally make contact with their hands, arms, body. About the fact that Glint and Roost were floating about nearby, letting their Guardians unwind but still keeping watchful eyes on them.

Crow twirled them once and chuckled a little when they stumbled over their own feet, reaching an arm out to stabilise them and gripped slightly tighter as they wobbled. He grinned widely when Kestral backed away slightly, their hand still wrapped in his.

“I should probably sit down,” they laughed, “But don’t stop dancing on my account.”

“I don’t know. I think sitting’s a good idea.”

Fingers still tangled in Kestral’s he followed after them to where they decided to rest near the fire, sitting down in the grass, leaning back up against the rock that shielded their fire from the wind. Neither could quite tell who was leaning into who but the comforting weight of Crow pressed to their side was inspiring an alarming amount of softness somewhere in their gut.

They wondered if - hoped - Crow was feeling equally sentimental and sweet, even if the feelings were blurred weirdly by the buzz of whatever they’d had to drink that evening. Grabbing the bottle from nearby, Kestral took a swig and turned to pass it to Crow, not expecting to come face to face with him.

And oh boy they really liked his stupid face.

He took the bottle from Kestral’s hand, a lopsided smile on his lips, and instead of raising it to drink he set it down on the ground again his eyes not leaving their face.

“Can I kiss you, Kes?”

It took everything in their being not to immediately grasp him by the collar and press their mouth to his. It took a little more to remember that they were both extremely drunk and perhaps things, feelings, were just a little overwhelming and maybe a side effect of the lighthearted closeness - and alcohol - they’d been enjoying all evening.

But his lips were slightly parted and they could only imagine…

“I’m really drunk.”

Crow looked surprised for a moment before he laughed softly, stroking his knuckles slightly shakily over Kestral’s cheek, “Yeah, I’m...pretty drunk too.”

“So maybe…” their gut was doing some kind of gymnastics, they couldn’t stop staring at the other Hunter’s mouth, “...maybe if you wanna wait until we’re not so drunk? If you still...”

His hand had shifted to cup their cheek and Kestral hadn’t even noticed the way they pressed into his palm, their sentence trailed off and their eyes shut briefly. For all of a second they felt stupid for enjoying such a small amount of contact, not that that should surprise them or anyone. It’d been such a long time...

“Sounds like a plan,” his voice sounded a little tight, more breath than sound and with what appeared to be a great amount of strength (and no coordination) he removed his hand from it’s point of contact with Kestral’s cheek and flopped back against the rock that supported the pair.

They felt far too chilly all of a sudden.

Kestral slung their legs over his, nestled themself tightly by his side under an arm and passed out.