#ask fill

@ambernotember

Ohhh this is super interesting and cute, because how do you break a curse for someone who doesn't even believe in them? And also, maybe it's a little bit for you, too?

They end up going on a Wednesday for an early dinner, fill up on dessert and appetizers, and then go to the park instead of a movie afterwards.

Dustin almost wishes Steve were the one on his knees, so that at least he wouldn't have to see his face.

Okay I can't write something as efficient as five sentences, lol. Little drabble below the cut:

(TW for implied blowjob and masturbation)

Well, starting with the Dungeon Meshi: I am absolutely going to have Chilchuck man a team visiting a dungeon out of the kingdom because one of his daughters begged him and have him go out of his way to slaughter a room full of Mimics, get the group's magic user to use a stunner spell on some obvious Treasure Insects--and then proceed to prep them all for traveling deeper without having to return up top; complete with frying portions with another room's fire traps. Because he's been with Laios so long, he doesn't give a fuck about appearances, just results.

There will include other Touden Party members, but Chilchuck and Marcille are the most clear.

As for the PR'17 one: It still pisses me off that we didn't get a sequel, but I'm even more pissed that so many people failed to notice Amanda and Harper are modern Bulk & Skull--but with good cause to attack Kim after she literally opened the floodgates to something that would have a high chance of ruining Amanda's life or putting her in danger. Plus, I wanna give the two a real background and implied future. Even just a little one.

There had been a half dozen times Eugenides had been tempted, but none of them had come close to this mind-numbing panic flooding his limbs right now. He felt like his tendons had been sliced, every appendage cold and useless, and it wasn't just the shoulder wound. It was the Attolian voices coming closer and closer-- she would not be so kind a second time, not after he insulted her and humiliated her.

The gift, by contrast to his frigid blood, was heavy and blazing hot. He'd put a hand to his braid just a moment before, expecting to find his hair singed and smoking, but it wasn't the mortal kind of fire. There was something of Hephestia's molten core still deep in the metal. Eddis had told him-- no, warned him-- that it was not to be trifled with and at no cost could he let it fall into Sounis or Attolia's hands. It would undo them all, she had promised, and Eugenides most of all, if he succumbed to its promises.

He didn't care about power for himself as much as he felt a primal dread at being the reason Attolia was destroyed. He didn't like her, exactly, but he knew in his bones that the loss of her would be something akin to the breaking of the world itself. Maybe, though, he could bear wearing it for a moment, the span of ten breaths to get across the ravine into the safety of Eddis. It would mean leaving the Magus and Sophos behind, but perhaps it would be worth it, and then perhaps he could convince Helen to let him use it once more to--

He stopped his hand, which had been drifting toward his braid again while he stumbled forward over the rocky ground. With a furtive glance at the Magus, he rubbed his neck instead, as if bitten by a pesky boulder fly. The man didn't even notice. He was too busy looking over his shoulder where the Attolians would appear any moment, and ahead to where Gen had promised them hidden branches to cross.

The Magus and Sophos had risked themselves going slowly for him and he couldn't abandon them now. Eddis was waiting for him, waiting to finally destroy the Gift that had haunted their mountains for so long. The ring, the one ring and only surviving artifact of the Dark Lord Lyopidus, crafted with all his malice and hatred of his half-brother the Thief, needed to be melted in the flames of Hephestia's Sacred Mountain. It had bound them too long to bloodshed and selfish ambition, even hidden from the Thieves for so many generations, and Helen was right. It would be his ruin to slip it on and disappear, even for a single beat of his heart, and he would then ruin everything he had ever loved or hoped to love.

“Hey, man… It’s alright,” Jason insisted, standing over the newly freed Green Ranger who now sat on his bed, staring up at him with reddened, teary eyes. “What happened in the Dark Dimension was due to Rita’s influence over your mind. It wasn’t your fault!”

If he’d known Tommy was going to show up in the middle of the night, still quivering and panting from the intensity of his nightmare, the Red Ranger would have made sure to put on a shirt. As it was, the soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the litany of healing lacerations to the teen’s chest and abdomen; Jason had a feeling they were going to scar if the tight pulling from the wounds carved into his broad back were any indication.

He wished the other boy would say something… But after gasping out the details of his tortured dream, Tommy’s gaze focused on the Red Ranger’s bare upper body, and he’d immediately fallen silent. Jason settled next to him on the mattress, a hand squeezing his shoulder firmly as a finger lifted the Green Ranger’s chin, forcing his face to tilt upward and away from his demented ‘handiwork’.

“It. Wasn’t. Your. Fault,” he repeated, emphasizing each word firmly.

Tommy’s hazel eyes finally met Jason’s dark ones, an oddly intense passion flickering like a spark from stone against metal. It wasn’t the same as the evil green aura he’d had when under Rita’s obedience spell… Yet it was still unnerving.

‘Oh, Jason, you have no idea what I really wanted to do…’ a raspy, guttural voice growled inside his head. ‘She said to destroy you, but didn’t tell me how… She never told me to do the other things I did to you. I did them on my own.’

The Red Ranger didn’t know even half of what he’d done while under Rita’s thrall. Tommy felt certain that at some level there was a part of himself that was truly evil, a dark stain upon his soul that had nothing to do with the space witch or her enchantment over his mind. If that weren’t the case, then he would not continue to feel this confusing but intense obsession when it came to Jason Scott.

There was the desire to possess, to control, to…consume his bold spirit, to restrain that willful, stubborn defiance, to bend him to his will, a broken, sobbing shell of his former self. And all the vile things that it would take to bring the Red Ranger to his knees…

Guilt pricked his conscience every time when his musings took him back in time; however, it did not stop the erotic fantasies nor prevent his hand from finding its way to his throbbing cock every time he considered the way he’d stalked his prey, a predilection that began before Jason was even aware that a Green Ranger existed, trailing the red-clad teen through the halls at school, wandering down the grocery store aisles as he’d shopped with his mother, and even teleporting into his bedroom when his enemy was out, rooting through his closet and drawers.

‘I wanted to know every part of you, my fiery Red…And I was a studious observer. I learned the scent of your shampoo, the sharp taste of your toothpaste, whether you wore boxers or briefs, the way your bedsheets felt against my bare skin as I rested my head against your pillow…’

So many, many things…

Tommy knew Jason’s favorite food item to order at the Youth Center, the dates and times of his martial arts classes, his school schedule, his grades, the size of his clothes, his birthday, his height and weight, the names of his parents and grandparents…

He couldn’t explain the compulsion to invade Jason’s private world, his life outside of Rangering… only justifying it as a common tactic of knowing one’s enemy, getting inside their head to learn how they think, what their weaknesses are. But that wasn’t all of it, he mused.

The twisted tendrils of his dark passion steadily penetrated the very air around the Red Ranger, worming its way like a cancer throughout his entire existence.

‘Our time together in the Dark Dimension, drawing your life’s blood with my sword only made my craving all the worse. I could smell its scent like a sweet catnip and ached to trace my tongue across those burning gashes…’

Tommy tried to lift his lips in a soft smile to soothe Jason’s growing concern.

“I’m still so sorry, Jase… for everything.”

Thank you for this ask! May I present to you...

Rockstar

*not edited*

~

Hero took a few sips from her water bottle while her director stood over her, barking orders about how she should wave towards the crowd, smile at the paparazzi, fix her hair and blow some kisses.

"Yeah, yeah," Hero replied dismissively, taking one moment to glance at the burly man looming over her. She stood up straighter and set her water down on a neaby stool. "What time is it?" She asked.

"About 9:30, you have ten minutes till showtime Civilian," the director said, looking down at his leather watch. "Is your voice warmed up enough?"

Hero swallowed before singing in an almost frightening high voice, "Do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do!"

The director smiled before herding Hero to the curtains waiting to be opened. "Listen dear," he said, giving his "mandatory" pep talk like he did every concert. "Deep breaths, you got this. Just don't freak out. I will be right there the entire time."

Hero shrugged him off, looking at him with a smirk. "I do this every week Director, of course I'll be fine." She rolled her blue eyes and started to hum to herself, warming up her vocals. Director nodded in approval before walking away to his seat- a good chair to watch his singer perform and to give her any motivation she needed.

"Let's give it for Ebonee Jakes! Wooooo!" The crowd broke into a series of hoots and hollers before a skinny, beautiful lady pranced onto the backstage.

"Now is the moment you've all been waiting for! Civilian and her band The Space," the announcer screamed. Hero could just imagine the short, well suited up, brown hair man trot across the stage. She smiled, this was her moment to shine.

"Civilian!"

Hero spun around to see her director running up to her with a panic stricken expression on his chubby cheeks.

"Yes?" Hero asked, pursing her lips. She had to get out there...

"The percussionist is sick. Threw up and nearly keeled over, probably a tad stressed from the tour, but he can't perform tonight," the director anxiously reported, nervously biting his lip.

"What?!" Hero squealed, heartbeat shooting up into her throat. "How, how... how can I perform without a drummer?"

"We have a spare from another band that is willing to sub," the director said, a bit more color replacing his previously paled skin. "He is pretty good, not as good as our's of course, but-"

"Where is he?" Hero growled, pushing past the director and looking around for a man that closely resembled a percussionist.

"Here," the director led her to a very handsome young man. His jaw was very pronounced, contemplating his sharp green eyes. He had dark brown hair, fluffy, and brushed slightly to the side. His bushy eyebrows needed to be brushed and trimmed, but he worked.

If he could play.

"Tell the announcer that I need five minutes," Hero told the director.

"What's your name?" Hero asked.

"Donovan," the man responded with a smile on his face.

"Okay Donovan." Hero gestured towards a pair of sticks. "Give me a beat."

The dark haired boy took the sticks and tapped against two stools. She was surprised how amazing it sounded even though they weren't even drums. This could work...

"Okay you're in. Hustle, hustle." She clapped to enunciate her point before grabbing him by his elbows and pulling him along. He was wearing a black suit and tie, not her band's dress code.

"I need you to change into this." Hero tossed Villain a white t-shirt and a red plaid flannel. He caught them and turned around before hiding behind a mirror to change.

"Those fit?" Hero asked when he walked out. Donovan smiled and nodded, straightening out the ripples in the shirt.

"Thanks," he said. Hero's face crinkled, she recognized that voice.

Director appeared again and gave Hero a series of thumbs-up and thumbs-down. Hero returned it with a thumbs-up and both singer and percussionist went to the curtains.

"Thank you," Hero whispered to Donovan. He smiled and nodded in return, averting her gaze. She ignored the sudden odd behavior and mentally prepared herself.

The curtains opened, revealing Hero to the screaming crowd below. Once she may have squirmed and retreated after being approached by all these people, but now? Now between being a famous singer and a hero on top of that, paparazzi and fans didn't bug her anymore.

"Ladies and gentlemen may I present to you the star of the evening... Civilian and The Space!"

"Woooo!" Hero screamed and skipped to the front of the stage, her hands up in the air. She knew that her sequenced skirt shined in the artificial lights illuminating the auditorium, she knew that her make-up made her look like a model.

She knew she was good and she knew that the audience knew this.

"How are you today!" Hero yelled out into the crowd.

A chorus of "Good" followed that. Hero twirled around.

"Ready for some music, ya'll?!" She asked.

The crowed replied with urgent pleas to perform, but Hero cupped her hand around her ear and called, "I can't hear you!"

"YES!"

Hero ran backwards and in a circle before finding the best spot. With one look at her director, and an approved nod from him, all the lights focused on Hero.

"Is this on?" Hero asked and tapped the microphone until a vibrating hum sounded throughout the auditorium. The crowd laughed.

"Well good," Hero murmured softly and began to sing.

And following that single note was the prettiest string of guitar string with a dashing flare of the snare drum.

Even with the new band member, the lack of communication between the band, the song came together better than before.

Hero couldn't help but steal a glance at Donovan.

At Donovan.

His eyes met her's and then a silent conversation passed between them.

She almost stopped singing.

Those eyes, that voice.

It was Villain.