#“on the outside of the greatest inside joke” I’ve been trying to explain this feeling for years

[thedinosaurhasgum]

Olivia Rodrigo writes for the girls who are stuck in their teenage years (physically/literally or mentally/metaphorically) and were sold the image and narrative of the ideal expected teenage dream experience so much that their actual time in high school felt overwhelmingly painful and disappointing and left them a little out of place with a side of “why can’t I be like the others?” and now they are too old to get those years back but feel resentment and anger over what they didn’t have and also what happened to them to rob them of that experience. She writes for the girls who have moved on but still can’t get over the past and for the girls that feel like they shouldn’t feel what they do because they’ve succeeded and accomplished some despite it all and for the girls who go back to what’s bad for them because they don’t think they deserve better because they still partly view themselves as their teenage self and for the girls who make poor decisions because of inner angst and leftover self hate from not meeting the socially constructed standards and for the girls who-

[dreamkidddream]

MC Doing the Peeling Glue Skin Prank on the Bros (Lucifer, Mammon, and Leviathan)

Hoorayyy my first post! I don’t know if any of you have seen the tiktok where they rub glue to look like their skin is peeling off but it’s both funny and horrifying. Also, this got a lot longer and fluffier/sappier than what I thought, but I’m not complaining. This will be done in headcannon format, and I think I’m going to split it up into 2 parts (Lucifer, Mammon, and Levi in the first part and the rest in the second) and I hope you enjoy! Also slight spoiler for lesson 16 (but it’s a blink and you miss it kind of thing in Mammon’s). Reader is gender neutral.

The Build Up:

Ever since you came back to the Devildom after the exchange program, things have been great! It was obvious that you were missing the demon lords, and even more obvious that they were missing you too. Things weren’t different, not at all. But the one day that you were bored out of your mind and they all had different things to handle, you turned to the one thing that could cure your boredom: the Devildom’s version of TikTok. Oh how the boys will forever regret showing you that app, as it had let to their current downfall... 

Lucifer

So unfortunately this man is ALWAYS busy

It doesn’t matter what time of day or night it is, he’s always filling out paperwork. Whether it’s for Diavolo, credit card bills that Mammon racked up, Asmo’s impromptu fashion trips, Beel’s black hole of a stomach, etc.

And he doesn’t like to be disturbed at all unless it’s an emergency

So when you burst into his office out of nowhere, he was slightly irritated (but not that angry, since it was you and your presence was hardly a nuisance)

But that quickly changed whenever he heard you moaning his name in pain and looked up to see what looked like your flesh flaking off by the second

His eyes widen and he is instantly panicking. He’s trying to keep it on the inside but you start to “panic” which makes him shoot out of his seat

Instantly is by your side, trying to delicately hold you and also trying to figure out what the hell is going on

“MC! Are you in pain? What happened? Did someone put a curse on you?!”

Now, you weren’t putting on a Oscar worthy performance but you think you were selling it pretty good. And everything was working out until he grabbed your arm and inspected it closer that he realized he got played

First, he realized that your flesh wasn’t falling in chunks on the ground. Then, he realized that these flakes were awfully thin, and that parts of your arm felt sticky

He fully realized that he got pranked when he peeled off your “skin” off your neck and you giggled, then covered your mouth to realized that your cover was blown

Needless to say, he was not a happy demon

And you basically just signed your death warrant

Before you could even think about running, he grabbed you again and “asked” that you have a seat

Cue another long Lucifer lecture, with him explaining how this wasn’t a funny prank (even for human standards) and that you need to understand how serious this is

Which is his way of saying that he cares about you and was actually panicked and scared. You knew his pride made it hard for him to openly express himself. And while he is getting better slowly but surely, it’s still hard for him to do so. Which made you feel guilty, so you did genuinely apologized

“You’re right, Lucifer, I’m sorry. This wasn’t my greatest idea, as you can see. I didn’t realize how severely this affected you, and it wasn’t right for me to take advantage of that. I know how hard it is to express how you feel because of your pride, but I know how much you care for me even without saying it. It shows in how hard you work, and how you still manage to be there for everyone despite how stress you are. I shouldn’t be adding on to that stress, and I really am sorry for that. You really are a good person, Lucifer, and even though you can be very strict- wait! Let me finish,- you mean well because you care for us. And you don’t get enough credit for that. So, thank you for all that you do. I love you, truly and deeply.”

Despite being a little skeptical in the beginning (he thought you were trying to get out of a punishment, ha! Good luck with that) and ending with a flustered look that he tried to cover with his hand (which was obviously too late to do, you already saw), he did appreciate and accepted the apology.

“I love you too, MC. Truly and deeply.”

So that was your cue to get your hug (and maybe a little kiss) and he pushed you away! You were offended for a second, but you saw the disgusted look on your face and forgot that you were covered in dried glue. Oh yeahhhh...ew

So while you were back in his good graces, you still got punished. A 15 page essay on why doing horrific pranks like that on your loved ones is harmful and no HellTok for your remaining stay?! You know you deserve some type of consequence but geez, overkill much?!

But, he did hint to you that you could make him feel better by spending the night with him in bed

After you take a much needed shower of course

Mammon

As much as this tsundere tried to say he was “too busy” for you, we all know that’s a lie

Granted when you went to go bother him, he was busy

Busy with planning out new scams counting out whatever Grimm he had left, what items to sell and for what price: “maybe I could sell Levi’s golden Ruri-Chan vendor ring thing for some Grimm? He’ll flip but if I just “borrow” it for a little bit, he won’t know what hit ‘im!”

Seeing how focused he was, it was your time to shine

“M-Mamooon! Help me! Something’s w-wrong!”

That immediately got his attention

His head shot up and he rushed to you, panic clearing showing on his face and in his movements

“MC! What’s going on?! WHAT IS THIS!”

When you could physically see him shaking, sweating and on the brink of tears, you knew that it was time to stop while you were ahead

“Mammon wait-“

“We need to go to Lucifer NOW.”

And when he went to pick you up gently, and saw with his own two eyes the flakes slowly fall to the ground, was when hell broke loose

You have never heard him scream so loud before, and you were pretty sure everyone both in and out the house heard him

He lifted you up and you were pretty sure he was in his demon form when you both ran and/or flew (you couldn’t tell, that’s how fast you were moving) to Lucifer’s

Sometimes it was so easy to forget that you lived with actual demons, 7 of the strongest to be exact

When you both reached your destination (ie. barged into Lucifer’s room unprovoked) he was not pleased, but Mammon did not care.

You were one of (if not) the most important person in his life and he would be damned if anything happened to you again. He was your first man, your protector! And he was not going to fail. Not again. He would and will protect you with his life. At any costs

When you saw how serious he was , you tried to wiggle out of his arms, but all he did was just tighten up and say, “MC, quit squirmin’! I don’t want you to make this worse.”

“No, Mammon wait-“

“We’re going to fix this. I’m going to fix this and I’m not lettin’ anything happen to you again. Now stop moving! Lucifer, somethin’s wrong with MC! Look at how their skin is-“

“ITS A PRANK!”

It’s just a prank bro

“Wh-what?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you, I’m sorry!”

While you were explaining the whole process (with Lucifer staring on in building irritation), you were still in his arms

You already felt like a terrible being, but the guilt was steady skyrocketing when you were looking at his face

He looked like a kicked puppy left in the rain with a broken paw

You just kept apologizing over and over, until you heard a certain someone clear their throat.

“If you two are done interrupting me, I would like to get back to work. MC, stay behind, it seems like we need to have a little chat about your so called prank.”

Mammon put you down and walked out the room, head hanging and eyes covered.

You knew you screwed up big time. Forget about the incoming lecture, you felt absolutely terrible about pranking Mammon. Especially after hearing the “again” comment.

Once you finally got released (ie. punished), you all had dinner, which Mammon skipped out on

Geez, this was not suppose to happen and you needed to make it up to him ASAP

So here you were, standing outside his door (after you cleaned up) with two Hell Fire noodle cups, knocking timidly

“Hey, Mammon? Is it okay if I come in?”

Silence

“You weren’t down for dinner and I know that you’re hungry, so I brought us-you some noodles.”

Again, silence

You sighed, you knew you messed up big time and you were going to fix it, no matter what. 

“I’m sorry, Mammon. I’m so sorry. What started out as a joke turned into something serious, and it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have did that. Hurting you was never my intention, I care about you too much to do that. When I heard you say that you weren’t going to let anything happen to me again, I knew that I messed up. I know that you will always protect me, and I don’t have any doubt that you won’t. You’re my first man, remember? I know that you’ll always have my back, and I hope you know that I’ll always have yours too. You’re not just the Avatar of Greed to me Mammon, you’re my first guy that I’ll love forever. I won’t ever mess with you like this again, and if you don’t want to talk now that’s fine too, just know that I’ll always love and care for you, okay?”

Ughh and now you were crying!

You sighed. You understood if he didn’t want to talk to you. I mean, he thought you were dying again. It’s easy to forget the events that happened with Belphie, since everyone is communicating and acting like a real family, but you can see now that it left a deep emotional wound in Mammon. He believed that it was his fault that you weren’t saved, and he still carried the burden all this time.

You put the cup down outside the door and started to head back to your room. You would give him as much time as he needed. You just hate that you made him feel this way, that you rose those feelings out of him. And you hated yourself for it.

You barely stepped a foot away from the door when he saw it swing out and a big blob tackle-hugged you

Here was Mammon, sniffling and tearing up, hugging you

“*sniff* You stupid human.”

When he pulled away, you saw the tears in his eyes, which he tried to rub away before you could notice (sidenote: you already noticed)

“Ya-Ya really love me?”

“Of course, Mammon! How could I not? You stayed by my side through thick and thin, through everything. You protected me, and I will forever be grateful for that. I wouldn’t be here without you. You’re not a selfish scum bag like everyone tries to make you out to be, Mammon, and I won’t let you believe that you are. You are my first man, the man that has constantly looked out for me, that has supported and cared for me, and most of all that has never failed to show how much love you have to give. I love you Mammon, always.”

Cue the blushing and cheeky grin

“Now come on the Great Mammon, our noodles are getting cold.”

It felt great to see that smile back on his face

And it felt even better to hear him say, “I love ya too, MC”

Leviathan

Levi was in his room, nothing new

He told you he had some sort of campaign that he absolutely could not afford to miss. Which he said about the other campaigns too but whatever

So when you knocked into his room, and he didn’t ask for the secret phrase, you knew he was in too deep to even pay attention to his surroundings

And the door was UNLOCKED

So you went in, ready to give him the scare of the decade, and-

He turned around in his gaming chair, raging and in his demon form

“UGH! How was that normie of a demon able to kill me with that move?! He has to be cheating! How is it that I’m one of the best players in the entire Devildom and I’m one of the first dead?! It’s not fair! It’s not fair, it’s not fair IT’S NOT FAI- huh? MC, why are you covered in *squints* dried up glue?”

You were honestly shook

Because 1: the third strongest brother was obviously furious and in his demon form which is not a good combination (your mind flashing back to the TSL quiz and whew was that not the best memory) and 2: how the hell was he able to know that this was glue?!

Okay, you weren’t scared of Levi, not at all! But you, just like everyone else, knew how serious he took his gaming

And you all knew how he could be when he was raging about it too

Not saying that he would ever harm or attack you, oh no. What happened at the beginning was just a...fluke! Yeah, just a little hiccup in your now longstanding relationship

But you were still just a tad bit hesitant to be caught in the crossfire of his rage

Really everyone was (except maybe Beel, but even he had his moments)

“LOL you look like one of the rotten magical zombie students from the anime “OMG I’m Just A Magical Girl in Training and Somehow I Turned the Whole School Into Zombies and Have to Fall in Love with a Demon to Reverse It!””

Okay, this was not the reaction you were looking for

“What the- but how-?

Then you remembered

Levi is a renowned cosplayer, the best in the game. It was obvious he knew what the dried up glue looked like considering how much he’s worked with it

You were of course disappointed, but oh well, you could always scheme to get him another way

And then it happened. Another devious idea popped into your head

“So you said I looked like a rotten zombie student huh?”

“Rotten magical zombie student . LOL don’t tell me that you don’t think you do- W-what are you doing MC?”

“Ughhh I’m a rotten magical school girl, and I’m not just hungry for brains, I’m hungry for love.”

“L-love?”

“Gughhh that’s right and only kisses can satiate my hunger. Demon kisses.”

Oh boy 

The way that you turned red so quick was always a surprising sight for you to see

“M-MC WAIT-”

“I want my kisses, Levi!”, you said it in your best zombie/monster voice

Cue his famous “WOOAHHHH”

“MC WAIT- YOU’RE COVERED IN GROSS DRIED GLUE OMG” 

The campaign was quickly forgotten when you tackled him to the ground, glue and all

Then you remembered how sensitive he was with physical contact, and tried to get up

“Oh Levi, I’m sorry! I forgot you don’t li-”

Something was still holding you against him

Specifically, that something was his tail

His tail was currently wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly against the red-faced otaku

“Levi, you okay?”

“Y-y-yeah, I’m okay.” he said it in the tiniest voice you have ever heard.

“Do you want me to get-”

“NO! I-I mean yes! I mean no! N-no I don’t want you to get up. I’m okay.”

Today was just surprising you left and right huh?

But you weren’t complaining now

“But now we’re covered in nasty, peely glue. And what about your campaign?”

He looked at the screen, and then back at you

“It’s okay. It’s not worth it like I thought it was. It’s just a bunch of normies who either button mash or spam the same attack over and over. And I already got majority of the rewards anyway. Besides, now that another normie has me covered in icky cheap glue, I need to get it off.”

Whoops

“Sorry about that, Levi. I was just trying to prank you but looks like that failed. I could do your laundry for you since it was my bad. Is that okay?”

“O-or you could m-make it up to me by having by binge watching some anime? If you want, even though I’m a nasty, icky, worthless ot-”

“Levi. Look at me.”

You gently grabbed and held his face in your hands

“You’re not worthless or nasty okay? And I love to spend time with you. We can definitely have an anime marathon. I’ll always be by your side, I wouldn’t be your Henry if I wasn’t.”

“R-really?”, the way his eyes light up every time you praise or show him love will never get old

“Of course. But I do have to say that you are icky.”

“WHAT”

“But we both are. I mean I did kinda cover you in the flaky glue, and it’s starting to feel a little gross to be honest.”

“O-oh yeah. I-it’s your fault normie!”

“Yeah, yeah I know.”, you laughed. 

Atleast you somewhat pranked him

“So let’s get cleaned up, and I can bring some more snacks when I’m done. You wanna do the pillow fort like usual?”

“O-of course, normie!”

“Alright. I’ll see you in a few then!”, and you began walking out the room

He watched your trailing form, and honestly he didn’t want you to leave yet. That was apparent when his tail wrapped itself around you. I mean, how embarrassing was that?! But he couldn’t help it.

Levi cares about you immensely. You’re his best friend, his Henry! He didn’t know what you saw in someone like him, I mean damn, he was the Avatar of Envy! What’s attractive about someone being jealous 24/7?

He wasn’t outgoing like Asmo or Mammon, didn’t have the confidence like Lucifer or Satan, and he wasn’t good at building bonds like the twins (or at least like Beel)

What a human like you saw in him was still mind boggling, and he thought you were just tolerating him, just being nice. But, he saw how genuine you were as time went on. He saw you as someone special to him, you were his favorite real living person, his best friend, and honestly he wanted you to become more-

“Oh, Levi, one more thing.”

You quickly ran up to him and kissed him on the cheek

“I finally got my demon kiss, ughhh. My hunger has been satisfied!”

And ran right back out 

He blushed 100x more now, and he realized that maybe he wasn’t ready to take it to the next step just yet, but he was willing to be patient and work towards it

He was willing to make the effort because you’re worth it

[serene-victory-77]

Why The Crows Being Teenagers Is Actually Perfectly Realistic

There’s a TL;DR are the end because wow I like to rant.

I lightly discuss the general situations they’re all in to explore how they are frighteningly mature and competent, but it’s not particularly depressing or descriptive, it’s definitely lighter than the books

I thought about this post with a joke first: “People who think that Six of Crows is unrealistic because they’re so young clearly have not spent much time with traumatized honors students.”

It’s a bit of an exaggeration, but the point stands.

But I decided that, hm, actually, I could make a point about this. I totally agree with the aging up of the characters in the Shadow and Bone show, but when people straight up say that the books are wrong or unrealistic for having a young crew, I get annoyed, and here’s why (other than me reading the books for the first time when I was 13 and thinking ‘Huh okay, I see it’ and now being lowkey offended when people say they ignore it for being unrealistic):

On Inej

- At first I thought Inej’s wisdom and general demeanor was one of the most unrealistic things in the book

- When I thought about it longer, I was like “Actually, she’s 16, right? I’ve sent some of the most lyrical philosophy trying to help my friends while in high school. My friends have done the same. It’s valid.”

- Frankly, teenagers love hard-hitting philosophical truths. They love repeating what they’ve read or heard in movies and in books and from family stories. They love sharing little bits of wisdom they have come up with

- Inej’s ability to hear and understand philosophy and wisdom that she was surrounded by for 14 straight years and then sit on it and elaborate it for her friends to understand, or even just to piss them off in Kaz’s case? 

- Teenagers have that. They do it. So, Inej’s Wisdom passes, to me. It’s valid. 

As for her being calm

- You know how everyone jokes that Kaz seems calm on the outside but when you get to his POV he’s like “What the fuck” at the Van Eck house or just straight up “Huh, is this revenge for making tree jokes” at the Djel River thingy in the Ice Court?

- Inej is like that, too. And she gets angry, and she gets confused, or exhausted.

- AKA every quiet kid ever. Like, are you kidding? Have you ever been in a situation in which it’s literally chaos all around you, people are screaming and things are being destroyed (think middle school classroom with bitchy long term substitute and even worse students), and you’re just, calm? You pick up your things, you do what you need to do?

- That’s Inej. Like, what else is she gonna do? She’s smart enough to know that panicking won’t help anyone, and so she just rides it out. Internally she might be like “Why is this happening” but frankly, her being quiet and controlled in most situations is probably a coping mechanism and I respect that

- Pretty sure this is also based on the fact that the Suli have no land for their own and constantly have to keep moving. It might align with generational trauma, I’m sure someone could explain it better than me, but being able to keep your cool while constantly having to change and adapt to new situations, in, say, a country with hellfire politics and no land to call your own? Seems like a hereditary trait that could be useful in Ketterdam, although it’s sad.

On Inej’s abilities

- Simone Biles started training when she was 6 and went to the World Artistic Gymnastics Championships when she was 16, where she qualified in all the events. 

- There are videos of people walking over tightropes as young as three years old. We know Inej didn’t start that young, but not only was she naturally talented at it, but she spent a lot of time practicing. I think it’s valid. Plus, some of her family members do some pretty crazy things in her flashbacks, because that’s the whole point of what they do. 

- Youngest person to beat American Ninja Warrior was 16 year old Vance Walker

- Inej has a variety of of tools that help her wall climb, and while it’s true that she started young and got good really fast, she already had a history of physical work that would help her, and from what we can gleam from the book, a surprising amount of free time in which she was actively encouraged to learn everything she could. 

So that’s Inej! I think her skills are perfectly possible for someone with her history and situation. It’s true that she’s naturally skilled, but that’s not actually all that unusual. And her demeanor and wisdom do fit in with what a lot of teenagers are like and the circumstances she was brought up in

Onto Kaz!

- One thing I hear about is that Kaz is too smart for not having gone to school and also too young to know all that he does

- Do you all KNOW how many self-taught people there have been in this world? The word for people who are self-taught is autodidacts, and honestly a huge amount of famous people apply. Like many, many other people in history (there’s a whole list of them in Wikipedia), he had an vested interest in a field and he learned all he could. Sure, those fields were magic tricks and math, but still.

- Suddenly I have a lot of thoughts

- Okay, think, hyperfixations. That’s essentially what Kaz’s thing with magic tricks was, right? Have any of you ever spent time with an eight year old that clearly really, really loves dinosaurs? Those kids can spout names and facts and identify them by their skeletons and frankly know more than I ever will. Kaz’s was magic tricks. All kids are special.

- Kaz continued working on magic tricks and practicing them for years, so, I think that gets a pass. 

- As for the math! Look, a Fact Of Life is that some kids are just Like That, whether it be possibly from neurodivergence or other factors:

- Flo and Kay Lyman are twins with Autism who basically have the calendar of EVER memorized. Kaz memorizing card decks is sensible, and these ladies don’t need to look up anything to figure it out, so Kaz doing sums inside his head seems plausible. His “photographic memory’ isn’t impossible, although the term itself might be incorrect.

- Katherine Johnson who worked at NASA (yes, the lady from Hidden Figures), was so good at math that she was in high school by age 10 and went to college at age 15. It’s true that she had some teaching, but 1. There’s no evidence Kaz had absolutely no schooling, even if it was just at home with books and 2. Kaz was 9 when he came to Ketterdam, and after Jordie died, when he wasn’t surviving, he was learning. 

- Human calculator is a term that is applied to children a lot and there’s definitely plenty of videos showing how smart these kids are and them doing mental math easily, which he does in the books

- He had a LOT of pressure on him to figure out all he could, and if he wanted to move forward, he was going to have to learn a lot. He spent hours practicing magic tricks, for all we know he spent hours practicing math too. We know Jordie was a bit of a bookworm too, so Kaz from a young age probably already had a reason to learn. Personally, a lot of my love for books was inspired by my older sibling when I was younger

- Young people are adaptable. Kaz is incredibly adaptable. The term prodigy exists because of people like him through history. 

- As for him being rational, there’s no other way to survive. Some of the greatest soldiers in history have been very, very young, and very, very smart. It’s true tacticians are generally considered to be older, but that doesn’t mean there haven’t been very young ones. 

- A lot of the generals I found were like, 19 years old, but Kaz is 1. not a general and 2. in a place where young people take up the mantle really, really quickly, and frankly it’s been like that for a long time. I still think this passes. This isn’t relevant but William the Conqueror was apparently called “The Bastard”?

- Frankly, underground communities of thieves probably don’t go around publishing their escapades so to me it makes sense that I can’t just look up “famous young thieves” and get anything that makes sense, but I did try

- Y’all I tried to do research on youngest escape artists since I think Kaz qualifies and I found myself in what I think is a magicians forum? It’s from 2002-ish and I feel like I’ve just found a relic. I can’t definitely prove they’re all saying the truth, but some of the people there talk about 10-11 year olds at magic camps, so, it’s not impossible for this to be a skill Kaz learned really young, particularly when he made a habit of following around magicians

- I think he passes the realism check overall

For the other Crows:

- Nina being so proficiently multilingual makes sense to me, because she’s been in the Little Palace almost her entire life with all the best teachers they could afford at her disposal. Some people just click with languages. One such would be Timothy Doner, who spoke 23 languages at 16. 

- Nina is a child soldier. She of course can handle the battlefield, although I imagine there’s a degree of trauma that she has to deal with (although it’s true that most of her work was always meant to angle her towards being a spy).

- Jesper was taught to shoot from a young age by Aditi, who was likely incredibly proficient. Plus, there’s mentions of him and his father being on some sort of frontier at one point in the books, so, it’s likely that Jesper got his fair share of ‘being a child soldier” since he would’ve been 15 or younger. Plus, with being a Fabrikator, he gets a leg up

- Jesper’s smart y’all, he just also likes to have fun

- I am a little terrified by the fact that I looked up ‘youngest sharpshooter’ and found out about a 9 year old girl (Addysson “Addy” Soltau) who can indeed shoot guns, but uh, it does prove my point

- Matthias... I haven’t heard anyone really argue about Matthias. He’s the oldest at 18 and again, he’s essentially a religious child soldier. Of course he would be built af and know how to handle himself in a fight, and in a flashback about meeting Trassel, we’re told that he was actually distanced from the other boys and was the biggest and strongest/smartest of the group. Perhaps not compared to Kaz, but still

- We know how Wylan ended up how he is, so I don’t think i have to defend how he’s both a musical prodigy, good at math, and good at chemistry. Plenty of kids who can’t do one thing will immediately gravitate to a different field (think AP math students who can’t write essays, or those kids who could analyse a book and it’s metaphors in class but didn’t understand geometry).

- Granted he took it far but it’s kinda implied that  his father ignored him eventually and what else was Wylan going to do

- I don’t really know how he did chemistry while not being able to read the symbols and stuff, but that’s likely because I’ve never had to learn the way he did and also I really suck at Chemistry, but I refuse to believe that it invalidates his capabilities

Final Thoughts:

- They’re Traumatized Honors Students

- People might say that “it’s unrealistic that all the smart ones somehow ended up together” but again they’re traumatized honors students and those gravitate to each other

- Of course the smart ones ended up together, they’re the ones in those crazy situations precisely because they are prodigies. Nina wouldn’t have met Matthias if she wasn’t skilled and a spy, Kaz wouldn’t have known Inej if she hadn’t been skilled at silence (I can’t explain that one but uh ninjas did/do exist and it IS still a fantasy world). Kaz would have never been a leader of the Dregs in a position to find Jesper if he hadn’t been so determined to rise to the top, and Jesper wouldn’t have been in Ketterdam if his father hadn’t thought that Jesper was smart enough to get that chance.

- You know how those fringe revolutionary artists for new eras end up knowing all knowing each other and even hanging out? That’s them.

- I have decided there is a strong basis for Autistic Kaz, someone who is more studied than me should feel free to explore this.

- I read this book a few years ago, A Long Way Gone by Ishmael Beah. It’s about this guy’s experiences as a boy soldier and it’s a painful read so I’m not sure I recommend it as a casual read, but he talked about these young kids being able to actually make competent military strategies and handle warfare. It’s an extreme example of what I’m trying to explain when it comes to them being able to handle the brutality of their situation, but it’s true, essentially

- They are definitely serious, but if you think they’re not teenagers I just, disagree so much. They have moments of lighthearted banter, they make light of their situation, they try to support each other Nina covers it so well in her farewell at the end of Crooked Kingdom: The little rescues of laughing at each others jokes or eating together and just supporting each other, is not only a very human thing, but a very teenager thing. 

- Scary experiences that shape us happen all the time, and although for most it’s not the things that the Crows experience, picking each other up is a big part of why they do read as teenagers to me. I’ve seen kids be able to seriously converse about things like being questioned by the police, or being left to their own devices for days at a time, or the general impending doom they all feel, and it’s dark, but they’re also going to joke about silly puns 20 minutes later. 

- Teenagers aren’t exempt from terrifying maturity and competence

- Finally: Despite all I said, it’s a fantasy story and doesn’t have to be realistic

In the end, everyone can believe what they want to believe, but this is my case for my opinion.

TL;DR The Crows are all prodigies and a lot of their achievements and capabilities are based in reality and there are real people who actually achieved things like what they’ve done. Messed up prodigies gravitate to messed up prodigies, hence how they all end up together. When it comes to their mental state, most of them have been brought up their entire lives in situations that required for them to problem solve and keep their cool even when things are going to hell.

[calciopics]

Kylian Mbappé is Born to Run

The France forward grew up in the suburbs of Paris, steeped in the culture of football. At 22, the World Cup-winner is already a global superstar, and only now entering his prime. Will Euro 2020 be the moment when he overtakes Messi and Ronaldo to become recognised as the best player on the planet?

Kylian Mbappé was 18 when he walked into the changing room of the French national team. “It’s very difficult,” he recalls, “because great players don’t want to give you their place. That’s what makes them great players. They especially don’t want to give you their place if you arrive with the label of ‘Future Great Player’.” Within a year, Mbappé and France had won the World Cup in Moscow.

Three years on, we are talking in a room of his mansion in the leafy, old-money streets of Neuilly, just outside Paris. It isn’t even his home; he bought it to house his foundation, which offers after-school activities to rich and poor children alike. In conversation, Mbappé resembles a veteran TV presenter more than a young footballer. He makes short speeches in complete sentences, as precise in his footing as he is on the field. He sits as straight-backed as he runs. His expressive face keeps breaking into smiles: he likes talking, and is almost unburdened by the usual footballer’s fear of saying the wrong thing.

His burly father Wilfried sits beside us, but only once during the interview will he feel impelled to intervene. Meeting Mbappé, you come to understand how he hit football seemingly already fully formed. At 22, he has achieved more than most great players ever do. Can he take one more step and become the world’s best footballer?

His story starts 10 miles and a universe away from where we’re sitting today. His hometown, Bondy, is a multicultural suburb just northeast of Paris that looks as if someone plonked a Soviet town on top of an ancient French village. The old church is surrounded by fast-food joints and fading 1960s’ apartment blocks, one of them now adorned with a giant mural of Mbappé.

His parents grew up in Bondy: Wilfried, of Cameroonian origin, and Mbappé’s mother Fayza, of Algerian descent. Mixed marriages are common in the Parisian suburbs, the banlieues, but the couple did have to defy some local disapproval.

If a wannabe footballer had to choose the ideal place on earth to grow up, it might have been the Mbappé home in Bondy. Mbappé’s father and uncle were both football coaches, and Fayza, who ran after-school activities, played handball in the French first division. His parents had adopted an older boy, Jirès Kembo Ekoko, who went on to make a long career as a journeyman professional footballer. “I didn’t bring a new passion into the family,” Mbappé says with understatement.

He grew up practically inside the local football club, AS Bondy. “In the Parisian suburbs there are football fields everywhere,” he enthuses. “People here live for football. I was born with the sports ground facing my window.” It’s no wonder, he adds, that Paris’s suburbs are perhaps the deepest talent pool in global football, producing players such as Paul Pogba, Blaise Matuidi, N’Golo Kanté and Riyad Mahrez.

As a non-white kid from the suburbs, did Mbappé always feel accepted as French before he became a French icon? “I’ve always felt French. I don’t renounce my origins, because they are part of who I am, but I’ve made my whole life in France, and never at any moment was I made to feel I wasn’t at home here.” In the banlieues, he says, “We have a love of France because France has given to us and we try to give back to it.”

Mbappé’s parents made him take school seriously, and he was also a not-very-talented flautist at Bondy’s conservatory, but football came first. At AS Bondy, he says, “My father was my coach for 10 years. He helped construct the style of player I wanted to become. But I never felt the pressure of, ‘You have to become a footballer.’ Above all, it was a passion.”

Tagging along with his dad and uncle on their coaching jobs, the child acquired an unusual gift: he became a footballer who thinks like a coach. “Very young, I was always in the changing rooms, listening to the tactical talks and the different points of view, because football is made up of different viewpoints. I learned to have this tolerance, and I think it helped me, because being a coach is putting yourself in somebody else’s place. I think I have the gift of doing that. It helps in football, because if you’re a player, generally you think about yourself, about your own career. I can see, for instance, when something in a game is frustrating a team-mate. I can put him at ease.”

When you’re in the World Cup final, you’re convinced you’re going to win. You walk onto the field, the trophy is there, and you tell yourself it is impossible the other team will take it

Mbappé turned out to be that perfect sporting combination: a natural who is coachable. “He assimilates advice quickly. You ask him something once, and the second time he does it,” Antonio Riccardi, his former youth coach at AS Bondy, told me. Even as a child, Mbappé was an efficient footballer: decisive, never just decorative.

By adolescence, he was being courted by the big European clubs, which all keep close tabs on the Paris region. He visited Chelsea, and celebrated his 14th birthday at Real Madrid, which cannily found him the perfect babysitter: the club’s then assistant coach Zinedine Zidane, the greatest French footballer. When Zidane offered Mbappé a lift in his fabulous car, the overawed child offered to take his shoes off first.

The Mbappés sifted the countless offers and chose Monaco, where the route to the first team looked shortest. Mbappé arrived there, he says, “with my [footballing] baggage well filled.”

Kids in performance-sports families learn that they never arrive. Each step up is just another learning opportunity. In Monaco’s first team, the teenaged Mbappé encountered the veteran Colombian striker Radamel Falcao, freshly returned from unhappy loan spells with Manchester United and Chelsea.

“He was a star,” says Mbappé, “but he had a desire to transmit. He was like a teacher to me. He’s someone who always wants to score, but he left me the space to express myself. He’s very cool in front of goal, calm in his game, and he transmitted this serenity that I didn’t have, because I was young, excited and wanted to go at 2,000 kilometres an hour.”

The kid who didn’t yet have a driving licence scored 15 league goals in his first professional season to help Monaco win the French title in 2017. He added six more in the Champions League knockout rounds. He also passed his baccalauréat, France’s equivalent of A-levels.

Mbappé marvelled at the tension on the faces of other professionals, because he didn’t feel it himself. Everything came easily to him, without great sacrifice, he has said. When I ask about stress in a profession of hypercompetitive men, he shrugs: “Daily life is easy.”

His vertical ascent didn’t surprise him; it just happened a bit quicker than he’d expected. But others were stunned. Here was something new: an 18-year-old complete forward. Built like an Olympic sprinter, Mbappé ran upright, looking around him. He could dribble, cross and shoot. He was more advanced than Lionel Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo had been at 18.

How does he describe his style? “The modern attacker who can play anywhere,” he replies. He explains that forwards used to be specialists: “There’d be a number nine, or number 11, or number seven.” Mbappé, though, is the all-in-one. “I think my CV can speak for me. I’ve played alone up front, I’ve played on the left and the right. In all humility, I don’t think it’s given to everyone to change position like that every year and keep a certain standard of performance at the highest level. That didn’t fall from heaven. If I speak of the baggage given me in my teens, it’s all there.”

In one regard he has always been unequalled: the counterattack at speed. He says, “I’ve managed to work on my weak points but above all to perfect my strong points, because I was always told that it’s through your strong points that you’ll exist.”

In March 2017, Mbappé became the youngest player in 62 years to debut for France. Five months later, his hometown club Paris Saint-Germain agreed to sign him for a fee of £166m. He drew on his childhood experiences to navigate two alpha-male changing-rooms. At PSG, his good English and Spanish helped him deal with foreign team-mates. With Les Bleus, France’s assistant coach Guy Stéphan told Mbappé’s biographer Arnaud Hermant: “He knows the codes of the changing room. At table or in the bus, he doesn’t just sit somewhere randomly. For a youngster, he isn’t timid or introverted. He expresses himself.”

By summer 2018, picked for the World Cup in Russia, Mbappé was comfortable enough to claim the blue number 10 shirt — previously worn by Zidane and Michel Platini — and to say in public that he was gunning for the trophy.

“I went to play the matches calmly like I always have. I didn’t want to change just because it was the World Cup,” he says. “We were lucky to have a young squad. We were totally carefree, just a band of mates.”

Hang on, surely a football team isn’t really a band of mates? “No,” he acknowledges. “Just like the baker doesn’t get on with all bakers. You don’t have to eat with your team-mates every evening to win.”

In the World Cup round of 16, his two goals and a 37kmph gallop through Argentina’s defence made his global name. The night before the final against Croatia, he admits, “I was a bit stressed. I didn’t manage to sleep much. But the nearer the match came, the less stressed I was.” Before kick-off he was joking in the changing room. Stéphan recalls: “He experienced the final as if it were a PSG-Dijon game.”

Mbappé says, “When you’re in the World Cup final, you’re convinced that you’re going to win. Even the Croats were convinced they were going to win. You walk onto the field and the trophy is there, between the two teams, and you tell yourself it’s impossible that the other team will take it. That’s why there’s such disappointment afterwards if you don’t win.”

Half of Bondy gathered in front of a giant screen to cheer on the commune’s own “Kylian national”. Scoring in France’s 4–2 victory, he seemed to have reached his career apogee aged 19. He didn’t see it like that. Interviewed the night of the final, he described winning the World Cup as “already good” but only a start.

The next day, as the Bleus’ bus edged along a packed, ecstatic Champs-Élysées, writes Hermant, the ice-cold kid mused to the French Football Federation’s president Noël Le Graët: “Was all this really necessary?”

Mbappé explains now: “For me, it wasn’t an outcome, a finality. I don’t think of that trophy now at all. I don’t look at pictures of the World Cup before going to sleep. Honestly, it’s people on the street who come up and say, ‘You’re world champion, merci, merci.’”

He understood that his early triumph had upset football’s all-important hierarchies. Returning to PSG, he immediately reassured Paris’s Brazilian star Neymar: “I’m not going to walk on your flowerbeds. I’ll be a candidate for the Ballon d’Or [the award for world’s best footballer] this year because you won’t be, but I promise I don’t want to take your place.”

Soon after, he took the World Cup trophy to Bondy, where thousands came out to greet him. “It was a way to say, ‘Thank you.’ I’ve never forgotten which soup I have eaten. So it was important for me to return there after my first World Cup and first international title.” (Note that word, “first”.)

France’s coach, Didier Deschamps, recalls falling into “physical and moral apathy” the season after he lifted the World Cup as a player in 1998. Did Mbappé experience a hangover? He grins: “I finished as best player in the league, highest scorer, best young player, I was chosen in the team of the season, and we won the league.”

Winning the World Cup made Mbappé a national hero. Does he consider himself a star? “I think so. If your face is everywhere in the city, everywhere in the world, that’s for sure. Being a star is a status, but it doesn’t make me a better person than others.”

He lives like a luxury prisoner, who cannot leave home without being mobbed. “It takes an organisation just to go out,” he says. He has joked that when his future children ask him about his youthful adventures, he won’t have any.

“A fan gives you enormous love,” says Mbappé carefully, “but sometimes maybe an excess of love, and he might not respect your intimacy. We give our lives to the people, because we give them pleasure every three days, and we give them our time. It’s impossible to hope for a normal life, but just a little respect for one’s private life isn’t too much to ask for, I think.”

As a young man of non-white origins, he has a particular vulnerability with the French public, one-third of whom voted for the far-right candidate Marine Le Pen in the run-off of the presidential elections in 2017. Even so, he has begun to speak out against police violence.

“I took time to start talking about it, because I wasn’t ready,” he admits. “I had a lot of things to digest: my change of status, my new life. But I have always opposed all types of violence.”

When I note that French police violence is disproportionately directed against people of non-white origins from suburbs like Bondy, his father stirs from his silence: “We’re not answering that. You’re orienting it as if the violence were only against people from the banlieues, which is false.”

In high-level football, nobody will make a place for you. Ego, self-love, isn’t just the caprice of stars. It’s also the will to give the best of yourself

French fans like their stars humble. Mbappé has explained “the French mentality” to Neymar, who favours a bling-bling, poker-playing party lifestyle. Mbappé says, “In Brazil, they are more festive, in France more serious. Here it’s not considered good to display your passions. People will think he’s neglecting PSG because he plays poker. I think he has begun to understand that. At first it was hard for him because he experienced it as an affront. When he arrived, they put his face on the Eiffel Tower, and six months later they’re asking him why he’s playing poker. In France, people know what you have but they don’t want to see it. They just want to see you playing football, smiling.”

But Mbappé believes humility isn’t enough. He thinks great footballers need big egos. “In high-level football, nobody will make a place for you or tell you that you’re capable of things. It’s up to you to persuade yourself that you are. Ego, self-love, isn’t just a caprice of stars. It’s also the will to surpass yourself, to give the best of yourself.” Every time he walks onto the field, he says, he tells himself, “I’m the best.”

In truth, he knows he isn’t the best — Messi and Ronaldo are better. “It’s not only me who knows that,” he laughs. “Everyone knows it. If you tell yourself that you’ll do better than them, it’s beyond ego or determination — it’s lack of awareness. Those players are incomparable. They have broken all laws of statistics. They have had 10 extraordinary years, 15.”

Still, he admits: “You do always compare yourself with the best in your sport, just as the baker compares himself with the best bakers around him. Who makes the best croissant, the best pain au chocolat? I watch matches of other great players to see what they’re doing. ‘I know how to do this, but can the other guy do it too?’ I think other players watch me, too. I think that pushes players to raise their game, just as Messi was good for Ronaldo and Ronaldo was good for Messi.”

Does Mbappé compare himself with the other great forward of his generation, Borussia Dortmund’s Norwegian Erling Braut Haaland? Mbappé’s reply sounds a touch patronising: “It’s his second year, we’re getting to know him. It’s the start for him. I’m happy for him, for what he’s doing.”

The more you become an important person, the more duties you have. I’m no longer the little kid. I’m Kylian Mbappé

In this elite individual competition, the top spot may be coming free. Messi (34 this month) and Ronaldo (36) are “nearer the end than the beginning”, acknowledges Mbappé. In February, his hat-trick helped PSG thrash Messi’s Barcelona 1–4 at the Camp Nou. “The best match of my career,” Mbappé says, “because it was complete. I helped my team both offensively and defensively, and I succeeded in the creation and finishing of my moves, in one-against-ones. I won 90 per cent of my duels, if that stat is correct. All match, I never had a moment when I felt extinguished.” He then scored two at Bayern Munich, before PSG fell to Manchester City.

Some opposing teams now rearrange their entire tactical systems to combat the Mbappé counterattack. “There are quite a few anti-Kylian plans every match,” he says. “It means I’ve been recognised as a great player. It requires you to have multiple strings to your bow. I like that, because I adore challenges.”

Surely he’s now too big a player for the French league? He umms and aws: “France isn’t the best championship in the world, but it’s my responsibility, as a flagship player, to help the league grow.” Yet he may well leave this summer, to Real Madrid or England. The decision, perhaps the biggest he’ll face in his career, will be made inside his family. Almost uniquely for a star footballer, Mbappé doesn’t have an agent, just lawyers.

At 22, he considers himself an experienced footballer. He says he and Neymar “are now the two natural leaders” of PSG. When he kicks off the delayed Euro 2020 with France in June, it will be with more responsibility than at the World Cup. “The more you become an important personality, the more duties you have. I’m no longer the little kid. I’m Kylian Mbappé.”

Kylian Mbappé’s prime may have already arrived. Fast strikers usually peak between 20 and 24. A Euro and a World Cup within 18 months, while France’s generation of 2018 remains almost intact, may be his best chance to make football history. What are his career ambitions? That smile again: “To win everything.” (Esquire Magazine)

[vs-redemption]

This is the second piece out of seven written for the one year anniversary collaboration event for the @konoblog-simps discord. I encourage everyone to check out the masterlist for today's prompt and support the other creators. Some content is not suitable for minors so please pay attention to the warnings.

Prompt: Angst (Armin Arlert x GN!Reader)

Word count: 1.7K Warnings: None?

Armin hadn’t seemed like much when you first met him during cadet training, at least not to most people. He was smaller and scrawnier than all the other aspiring soldiers, falling dangerously behind during endurance tests and getting overpowered by everyone in the one on one sparring sessions. It was no secret that people questioned his decision to keep pushing himself through, but you saw the potential in him that others failed to.

It was the subtle things you noticed at first. When everyone else complained about the brutal conditions of the training, threatening half-heartedly about giving up, Armin never seemed to waver. Even when he seemed like he might pass out from exhaustion at any moment, sweat pouring down his face and breath coming in labored pants, his eyes remained sharp and determined. Even when he’d been knocked roughly to the ground a hundred times, there was never even a hint that he might be thinking of giving up or running away. It was a little scary actually, but also admirable. Somehow, watching him struggle and endure gave you the strength to carry on as well.

“I… think I have a crush on you.”

You wished for the ground to swallow you up as soon as the confession slipped past your lips. It was so embarrassing to admit it out loud, but after joining the scouting regiment you knew that time was no longer a luxury for you. Nobody was guaranteed a tomorrow once you accepted a position in the scouts, so keeping your feelings inside seemed like a waste. All humiliation from the situation was worth it anyway when you saw the blush creep into Armin’s cheeks.

“Uh…oh.” His response wasn’t exactly awe inspiring, but at least you’d gotten it off your chest. For a moment you wondered if he was even going to respond. Surely he respected you enough to give you an answer either way instead of ignoring the situation completely. He’d never run away from anything before. Thankfully, he didn’t disappoint, and after a pause asks you to sit with him at dinner that night.

The concept of dating in the survey corps didn’t really exist. It was hard enough to try and find a moment just to be by yourself let alone create any type of romantic situation that could be considered a date. It was nice to have that feeling of companionship though. Armin always made sure to spend time with you each day, laughing at your jokes and slowly opening up enough to tell you about the world he imagined was waiting out beyond the walls.

Perhaps there were beautiful landscapes like the ones Armin described to you during meals when he held your hand in his, blue eyes shining with wonder and excitement, but what you encountered during scouting expeditions was the complete opposite of the pictures he’d painted inside your mind. The higher ups had explained exactly what to expect before your first mission, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the actual size of the titans and the amount of death and carnage you’d been forced to witness. Each time you and Armin managed to come out alive seemed like a miracle.

“How much longer do you think we can outrun death before it finally catches one of us?” You ask him sadly. The thought of losing him was unbearable to you, but somehow he still held that spark of resolve.

“We aren’t just outrunning it,” He assures you, pulling you into his arms and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We’re outsmarting it. The scouts are creating new advantages all the time. Commander Erwin is always coming up with new strategies, and I really think the new thunder spears will make a huge difference for us.”

“But there’s so much we still don’t know,” you remind him. The mysteries of the titans had continued to unfold during your time in the scouts, revealing that there were people who could actually control the monsters from the inside, and that some of them had been traitors the entire time. It was hard sometimes to hold onto the hope that things could get better.

“I can’t make any promises about the future,” Armin admits, his voice calm and soothing despite what he was saying. “But I do know that our chances of seeing the wonders of the world are higher if we keep fighting than if we give up.”

It was just like him to say something like that, and it brought you comfort knowing that he was still the same brave boy you knew from back in the cadet corps, before everything had gotten so horribly confusing. What you hadn’t realized though, was that those traits of his that you admired so much, should’ve been the ones you’d feared.

Your heart had gone cold inside your chest when you heard that he’d tried to sacrifice himself during what everyone was calling the Battle of Shiganshina. However, calling it a battle was laughable. It had been more like a slaughter. Almost the entire scouting regiment had been completely wiped out, including Commander Erwin. You had no idea how you’d even made it out alive, and the only reason you still had Armin was due to the merciful intervention of Captain Levi and the precious titan serum that had been entrusted to him.

Armin wasn’t the same for a while after everything that had happened, and you couldn’t blame him. People were not shy about criticizing him for getting a second chance at life when so many others had died, including the brilliant commander who’d secured so many victories for humanity in the past. He kept to himself a lot, looking miserable at best. As the scouts pushed forward and began to make plans for what would come next, you thought things would get better, but Armin remained distant. He avoided you at meal times and always had an excuse not to be in the same room as you. It hurt you to see him act this way, so you bided your time until you found the chance to confront him.

“I thought it was obvious that we can’t be together anymore,” his voice was dead as if pushing you away didn’t have an effect on him at all.

“What?” tears had already sprung into your eyes, “That makes no sense at all, Armin. Why would you think that?”

“I’ve inherited the colossal titan,” he explains after a sigh. “My life has an expiration date now. Thirteen years… and then I’ll die.” Of course that had been a hard tidbit of information to swallow at first, and your heart still panged with sadness when you thought about it.

“That means we should make the most of the time we still have together, doesn’t it?” You ask weakly. “I know having the colossal titan is a heavy burden to bear, but I’m more than willing to stay by your side and help lighten the load.”

Something in Armin suddenly snaps and he gets a wild look on his face as tears spring into his eyes. “You don’t understand!” His voice was louder now and you flinch away as he points both his hands at himself frantically. “It should be Commander Erwin standing here right now! Not me! It’s not just the burden of carrying the colossal titan. I also have to try and prove that my life was worth saving over his! Somehow, I have to live up to the standards and expectations he left behind!”

“Armin…” You weren’t sure what to say. You’d never seen him look so distressed and unhinged. “Don’t listen to what everyone else has been saying. They weren’t there. They don’t know…”

“What they’re saying is right!” Armin insists, dragging a hand over his face as his thoughts continued to spiral into turmoil. “We just found out that there’s humanity outside the walls… whole nations that want to destroy us! And the greatest commander we’ve ever known is dead…”

“You’re just as great as him,” you pause for a moment before looking down in embarrassment. “That’s why I fell in love with you.”

“And that’s why I have to let you go,” the comment comes out sounding strangled and you look back up at him wearily.

“I don’t understand,” you admit, his rejection hitting you hard and sending waves of sadness and embarrassment through you.

“I heard someone say that Erwin was only such a great leader because he was able to turn himself into a devil, able to make unbelievable sacrifices for the good of the people as a whole,” Armin explains, his voice back to the flat emotionless tone from before. “If I ever hope to be even a fraction of the man he was, I’ll have to give up my humanity too. I can’t make decisions based on who I care about or what my own personal dreams are for the future. I just… can’t be with you.”

You stare at him in disbelief for a moment, letting it all sink in. That spark you’d always seen in his eyes was still there, but darker somehow. Standing before you was the same brave and determined boy you’d met all those years ago, just a different version. He’d never run away from anything in his life, and it was clear that he wasn’t going to run away from the duties that had been placed upon him now. It was just painful knowing the things you loved most about Armin, were the exact traits that ended up breaking your heart.

“I see,” you swallow back your sadness and force a smile. “Well, I know that if victory is possible for us on this little island, it’ll be you who leads us there.”

“Thank you,” Armin nods his head solemnly. “I hope you’re right.”

As he turns and walks away, you try to console yourself as best you can. In truth, Armin’s selflessness only made you love and respect him all the more. And even if he talked about throwing away his humanity, you knew there was no way he’d ever truly harden his heart to the people he cared about. Perhaps if you both made it out of this alive, you’d be able to help him find himself again, and explore all the beautiful places he’d always dreamed of seeing.

[maxburnett]

Chandelier, TJ Hammond

- (asexual!fem!reader x TJ Hammond)

Summary: Soulmate - Your soulmate understands and connects with you in every way and on every level, which brings a sense of peace, calmness, and happiness. Two broken individuals find peace and love when trying to fix the shambles in their lives caused by years of addictions.

Warnings: angst, self-loathing, mentions of drugs, mentions of suicide, fluff, happy ending

If you recognize this, I uploaded it about a month ago. I just wanted to make an aesthetic for it and I didn't like the format of the description etc. I own nothing but my writing; things in italics are quotes found on Google.

Words: 1,654

~ Recovery ~

Recovery is an acceptance that your life is in shambles, and you have to change.

He had never wanted to be like this; he had never wanted drugs and alcohol to rule his life; TJ had always wondered what had happened? Why was he such a failure to his parents? Why did he hate who he was and who he had become? Would things ever even get better for him? After two attempts to end it all, after everything he had put his family through, TJ thought maybe he had found common ground and a purpose when he had woke up in the hospital bed with his mother sitting there by his side; however, like always it didn’t last.

He lasted a whole six months being clean and sober, then one day, everything came crashing right back down, and he felt like a thunderstorm with no umbrella or cover. After six whole months, he was back on the bottle, waking up after blacking out, not even remembering drinking the night before. He started cocaine again a couple of weeks later, but this time, he knew he needed help, and he got his mom to put him into rehab once more.

That’s when he met her, beautiful as broken as he was; an addict for ten years, in and out of rehab; losing everything, lost to the world, and a failure to her parents. They had laid on the ground outside of the rehab facility talking about their problems while holding hands, and everything lined up perfectly. In a world where TJ had felt that everyone was out for him; that the world would be a better place without him; she showed up, and her eyes, those (Y/E/C) eyes, were the beacon of light showing him the way to find his way back. He still thought back to that night; they had laid on the ground, holding hands as they laughed together at TJ telling her the dumbest jokes, and then their conversation moved to the talk about past relationships and the root of all of their problems. They then realized that those two broken people who had questioned everything that had happened in their lives had found their person.

After rehab, they both stayed in touch, texting, telling each other how their Recovery was going; saying “I Love You” in the texts was just second nature, and they meant those words; TJ was in love with her. It felt nice to be able to say that he was in love with someone. Did all “Love” have to be romantic? Did you need the sex and the complications that came with a “relationship” to feel the meaning of true love?

Then it happened, one little fight with his parents over something, and he had a drink again; one drink turned into two; two turned into 4. He needed her; he needed his saving grace.

~Relapsing~

The disease of addiction is a chronic, devious bitch just waiting for you to slip up.

Y/N woke up at the sound of her phone and groaned as she looked over at the clock. Three missed calls—one voicemail. That’s when the alarm set in, and she quickly sat up and pressed play on the phone and listened with bated breath, not sure what she should be expecting. She listened intently and sighed as barely audible sobs filled her ears.

“I’m such a fuck up,” he breathed and let a sob escape his lips. “No wonder my parents don’t want to put up with me … sometimes I wonder why you seem to put up with me.” His voice is shaky and begins to sound hoarse. “I don’t know how you stayed by my side after all this time … when you know I’m going to do nothing but fuck up and disappoint,”

He laughs a little to himself, and her heart breaks as she stands and gathers some clothes, rushing out to her car after grabbing her keys; she listens to the voicemail and hears something that sounds like broken glass as she drives to TJ’s apartment and uses her key to open it up. She rushes in and finds him sitting on the floor in his bathroom. TJ was holding his hand close to his t-shirt as the blood dripped down his hand, and she looked up and saw a broken mirror.

“Look at me, TJ, I’m here,” she said and softly kissed his forehead. “I’m here, baby,” she said as she held him close to her. He rested his head onto her chest, hands clutching her oversized shirt she had been sleeping in as he sobbed and apologized over and over. She helped get him into the shower; he was in such a state of distress that she got into the shower with him still fully clothed to help hold him up. He ended up turning and wrapping his arms around her after the cold water brought him to his senses a little. After they got out of the shower, both changing into dry clothes, she led him to his bed and went around the apartment, and poured out what other alcohol he had before joining him beside him on the bed.

“I’m sorry, kitten,” he said, causing her to smile at that playful nickname he had given her. He breathed out as he laid his head against her hair and giggled against it. “You came here at 3 in the morning,” he hummed against her hair, causing her to playfully hit his chest and look up at him with sad eyes.

“Of course I would; you’re everything to me,” she whispered, and he smiled down at her and pushed some hair out of her face before softly pressing his lips against hers, causing her to freeze. “Please don’t do that,” she whispered and cupped TJ’s face, and he looked at her with a questioning look.

“I-I’m sorry,” TJ stammered, not sure what had gotten into him.

“I’m not mad,” she said with a shake of her head. “Not mad at all, I just … I don’t like that sort of contact,” she said and held onto both of his hands, causing him to look into her eyes with a confused frown. “I’m asexual … I just don’t get feelings like that,” she said and looked into his bright blue eyes. “But know this, TJ, I love you, and I’ve never loved anyone the way that I love you.”

“And I love you,” TJ said as he closed his hands around hers and pressed a gentle kiss to her nose, giggling as she smirked up at him and did the same.

“You’re cute, TJee, I’ll give you that,” she smiled and laid her head down into the crook of his neck as he wrapped his arms tightly against her.

~All I Need~

Soulmate is an overused term, but a true soul connection is very rare, and very real.

Y/N smiled as she looked around the apartment that she and TJ now shared, her head resting on his chest as he ran his hand up and down her back as she played a video game while lying on his chest. She smiled up at him as he looked down at her with those favorite pair of blue eyes before drawing small circles over the fabric of her t-shirt.

“You’re distracting me, TJ!” She said and giggled as he swooped her up and laid her down, and began to tickle her. “Stop it!” She let out a fit of giggles. “You ass!” She laughed and tried to get him off of her.

“Make me,” he said, sticking his tongue out at her playfully, and she pushed him off playfully before she sat up and caught him staring at her.

“What?” She asked as she absentmindedly played with the ring on her finger that TJ had bought her when she told him that emeralds were her favorite gemstones.

“Just taking in how cute you are, kitten,” he said and leaned in and snuck in a gentle kiss to her cheek and watched as Y/N placed a soft kiss to his nose and giggled as she put the controller to the side and let his arms wrap around her. She stretched and changed the input on the television and put on a channel they both liked and traced circles on his white t-shirt; she watched his face contently as he smiled at what was playing on the television and smiled as he closed his hands around hers as he held her. She closed her eyes, wondering what life would bring them, and found herself turning to look back into TJ’s blue eyes.

“Would you ever want kids? Me to have kids? I mean, there’s a way we can-,” he placed a finger against her mouth and smiled as he softly moved the finger down.

“Whatever life brings our way, I’m going to be right by your side, and if a kid is in our future, then it happens. I hope it has my good looks,” he smirked and laughed as she slapped his shoulder with a smile and leaned to place a kiss onto his pink lips.

“Love you,” she murmured into his lips. TJ smiled as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer into the kiss, they didn't kiss like this often but when they did it was one of his favorite things int he world.

"Love you too, Kitten," he murmured against the kiss.

What they had, they never had to explain. Yes, technically, TJ was sexually attracted to men, but his heart was hers, and hers belonged to him. She had even told him that she didn’t mind if he chose to sleep with men while they were together, but he refused, saying that his body belonged to her. He didn’t need to sleep with random men anymore to fill the void that he had inside of him all of those years, because now his heart was filled with the greatest love he had ever as far as their friends and parents knew, they were a normal couple; but for them, this was their normal, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

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[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 17 second part

(Masterpost) (Previous Post) (Pinboard)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!!

Breaking Good

Wen Qing comes to visit Wen Ning in their backyard meth lab, and tells him that he fucked up a recipe, merely by taking a whiff of the concoction. She uses the approved "wave fumes toward self" way of smelling that you learn in high school science if you live in a country that believes in teaching science, which OP does not.

Wen Ning wants to know if they are going to have a feud, and she tells him there already is one. She tells explains to him that they're good Wens, not evil Wens, and that Jiang Cheng is fucked, and they should send the Jiangs away in the morning before Wen Chao comes around. 

Wen Ning whines at her about all of this, shifting into little-brother persona and acting like he didn't just take down 40 of Wen Chao's soldiers in a single night. He does this same persona shifting in his later unlife, with Wei Wuxian. When there is trouble, he's extremely effective, and can even tail WWX and Lan Wangji without getting caught, but then he is hopeless when dealing with turnips or children. 

Here, it seems like a version of Wei Wuxian's own little-brother persona, in which he pretends to be helpless so that his sister can take care of him.

#studyblr

Wei Wuxian comes into Wen Qing's head shop to ask her for medical books. He loves his brother so much he's volunteering for a research project. We've seen him be clever before; we've seen circumstantial evidence that he's a good student, but now we're going to see him actually buckling down and doing intellectual work.

Wen Qing thinks its hopeless and wants Wei Wuxian to get some rest. But he gives her puppydog eyes, so she sets him up in her library.

Wei Wuxian reads a huge pile of medical books and learns interesting things about the human body.   

(more after the cut)

Hopefully he does not splotch ink all over them while he holds this wet brush directly over the page. Why does he even have a brush in his hand? Is he taking notes in the margin? 

Wen Qing eventually tells him to take a break and go see Jiang Yanli.

Segmentation fault (core dumped)

Jiang Yanli is tending to Jiang Cheng, gently telling him to suck it up by citing their father, which is probably not the greatest idea. 

Yanli's wearing dark blue with white and looks awesome.  It's not Gusu Lan blue, but the blue and white is an interesting choice for the excruciating heart to heart they're about to have.  

Wei Wuxian shows up looking terrible, or the Xiao Zhan version of terrible, i.e. handsome and a little scruffy. But also worn out, unhappy, and fragile.

Jiang Yanli wants him to rest, but he wants to find a way to repair Jiang Cheng's core, and his mind races, trying to think of where he can get books and who can help him. His thoughts instantly go to Cloud Recesses and Lan Wangji. His face lights up at the thought that Lan Wangji will help him, and he hops up, ready to dash off and find him.

The first time I watched this I was like, dude yes you’re in love, but you can’t just dash off to find Lan Wangji, not when there’s a war on.  This time I was like, actually wow things would turn out a whole lot better if you got Lan Wangji to help you, instead of coming up with your own plan.

Mother Mother Can You Tell Me

Jiang Yanli tells him to slow his roll.  He's pushing himself too hard and she's afraid he will collapse. Then Wei Wuxian comes out and says what's driving him: maybe all these disasters are his fault.

It's telling, I think, that he cites Madame Yu, not Jiang Cheng, in this moment, even though Jiang Cheng has blamed him much more thoroughly and consistently. He's talking about one mother figure, to another mother figure, and looking for absolution.

He super does not get what he's looking for.

Jiang Yanli slowly lets go of him and goes the fuck off. She asks, rhetorically, what he's to blame for, and then lists off all of the shit that's happened.  She finishes up by saying, look at our situation; blaming won't help anything. 

It's unclear, because language/translation, if her answer is "it doesn't matter who's to blame" I.E. "yes, it's your fault, but I'm letting it go" or if she is saying "how does blaming yourself help anything?" I.E. "it's not your fault, stop being a drama llama."

Her body language, though, seems pretty blameful - she lets go of him, yells at him, sits down and turns away from him.  And his reaction is not one of shared grief, or of someone who is trying to get over himself; he's totally crushed, and he literally never unburdens himself to her again.  Even when he asks her, much later, about love, he immediately backs out of the conversation. 

There is no violence in this moment and her reaction is understandable, but this is kind of similar to that one time when his brother choked him in a beautiful field of grass, in order to make himself feel better. 

Then she kind of relents and takes his hand, telling him that she needs him and reminding him that he promised that they will go back to Lotus Pier. I don't remember him promising this, but okay. 

He puts his head on her lap and he cries, she cries, comatose Jiang Cheng cries; FUCK this episode.  

Jiang Cheng manages to cry only one tear and does it on the side of his face that his siblings can't see because he's not going to give them the satisfaction of sharing this moment with him, I guess.

When Wei Wuxian puts his head on Jiang Yanli's lap, it's part of a ritual for them, that they both are comforted by; he does it again much later, after they return to Lotus Pier. But this ritual does not actually do anything to relieve his burdens. As a male adult, and the only Jiang Clan disciple with any abilities, it falls to him to save the clan, whatever it takes, and he is heavily aware of it.

Wen Qing comes along and sees the sweet part of this complicated Shijie-Shidi dynamic, and decides to help with Wei Wuxian's research project. When the trio had just lost their parents, gotten sick, been pursued by enemies, & had one of Yanli's little brothers horribly wounded, Wen Qing was like, eh, I'll do the doctor stuff but that's it. But lap-crying is another level. 

Wen Qing: Nooo don't put your head on her knees I failed my saving throw

Group Project

Wen Qing goes and cleans up the mess in the library, putting everything in order and settling in to read systematically. Wen Qing probably has the prettiest bullet journal. (OP looks proudly at the 100 loose slips of paper and piles of random stuff on her own desk)

Wei Wuxian has shaved and rested and comes in with a tray of food for Wen Qing, and then goes to his table in the back to start working. He claims he made "porridge" for her and that she has to eat to gain strength, and she gives him an intrigued expression.  This moment is just blatant het baiting.  

In fact the food he brings her is clearly not porridge, which might just be a translation error, but also he totally can't cook, so it's not clear if he's joking and Yanli or Wen Ning made the food, or if this is just inedible.

The Things We Do For Love

Yanli is working in the meth lab and coughing a lot. Yanli's chronic illness is a sign of what's to come for Wei Wuxian, because strong cultivators don't get sick. Yet Yanli, as a physically vulnerable person, who has either a weak golden core, or none, is still intrinsically valuable.  Her presence in this scene is a reminder that Jiang Cheng's life is not, actually, over; he just feels like it is.

While Yanli cooks the meth, Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing have a study montage that is the equivalent of a training montage, except without "Eye of the Tiger" on the soundtrack.

Jiang Cheng remains unconscious. Apparently if you stick nails in the top of someone's head, you make them sleep, and in the back of their head, you turn them into part of your zombie army. Fortunately Wen Qing's aim is good. Jiang Cheng is looking devastatingly handsome as usual the TV version of unwell, and has grown a perfect Dorito-chip of stubble on his chin to go with his new 'stache.

Eventually Wei Wuxian changes back into his non-vampire robe and he finds the answer in an old scroll book. The Ikea instruction picture shows arrows going from the guy on the left to the guy on the right.  Clearly it's not a great procedure for the guy on the left.

Wei Wuxian's face shows us exactly how not great. 

Like walking in the rain and the snow and there’s no place to go and you’re feeling like a part of you is dying

He goes outside and gazes up at the trees and the sky as he contemplates the sacrifice that circumstance is forcing on him. He's not even making a choice at this point; his choice was made the moment he found the procedure. But it's going to be a tremendous loss for him. He values sword cultivation at least as much as Jiang Cheng does; he even fell in love with a boy over crossed swords. So he sits and just kind of comes to terms with this new understanding of his future. (Big gifs here)

Wen Qing finds him sitting, stunned, on the porch. She doesn't know what's up so she just sits quietly with him until he's ready to tell her.

She doesn't love the plan.  

Thunder, Th-th-thunder

Wen Ning is bringing food up when he sees them arguing, and he is startled by situationally appropriate thunder and lightning. Having recently watched The Lost Tomb Reboot I've come to expect thunder and lighting to appear on cue in any possible situation, so the fact that this mini-storm clears right up again doesn't bother me.

What About You?

Wen Ning dashes inside to see what Mom and Dad are fighting about. They're having a polite shouting match because Wen Qing refuses to yank out Wei Wuxian's core. 

Wen Qing: I hate the idea of harming you Wei Wuxian: I don’t even understand that sentence

Wei Wuxian doesn’t, of course, feel that he is important in any way, and ignores her concerned and appalled expressions in favor of telling her to just do it anyway. Amazingly, this does not convince her. 

OP’s 177cm-tall son keeps telling her this

Then Wei Wuxian plays the "you know Jiang Cheng" card, which...I guess she does? Maybe he was chatting her up more than we saw in Cloud Recesses? He hasn't given her the comb or anything yet. Wei Wuxian explains that Jiang Cheng cares about gain and loss, and cultivation is his life. If he can only be ordinary the rest of his life will be ruined.

Wen Qing asks the question that nobody ever asks him: What about you? 

Wei Wuxian has literally nothing to say to that, possibly because the question is so new to him. 

Wen Ning doesn't know what's going on but comes squarely in on team Wei, of course, and begs his sister to Do The Thing.  How fucking horrified is Wen Ning going to be when he learns what The Thing is? What he is personally going to help do to his beloved friend? Yikes.   

Wen Qing caves, warning them that the chance of success is only 50 percent. Wei Wuxian is happy to take those odds.

Lan Wangji, projecting his voice from Episode 46: fifty percent, are you fucking kidding me?

Soundtrack: 1. Mother Mother by Tracy Bonham 2. The Things We Do For Love by 10cc 3. Thunder by Imagine Dragons

[enigma-im]

Second Day of Christmas...

Trope: Teacher/Student (college) (Nsfw) Relationship: Saytr x Human Word Count: 5,426

I quickly grab my clothes from off the floor, putting them on as I shuffle out of the bedroom. Stopping at the door I look back at the naked satyr lounging tangled in his sheets. I can't help but pat myself on the back with the lay tonight. He is a rather sexy man, putting my past one night stands to shame with skills in the bedroom. Hell, I almost overslept from how exhausted he got me. I debate leaving my number as I walk into the living room. Before I can decide my phone chimes, notifying me of my ride outside.

"Shh, shh," I hush the phone, wincing at its volume. Hearing shuffling from the bedroom I quickly abscond out the front door.

Breakfast with Shelby is live with juicy details of our weekend. She talks about her weekend vacation with her boyfriend to her parent's beach resort. I can't help but scoff at her rich family. They spent most of the time there humping like bunnies on every surface. Minimal time was spent actually on the beach.

I share my weekend events, explaining a night spent man hunting and coming up short till the last minute. A handsome satyr bought me a drink, wooing me with his words before getting me back to his place. The night was honestly great, to a surprising degree. He listened and adapted eagerly to every moaned instruction, going above and beyond before reaching his own end.

"Shame you didn't get his number," she says, swiping through her phone.

"Eh, don't think he would have written. He is more of a once in a lifetime lay more than a potential relationship," I shrug, hiding my true disappointment.

"Who knows, maybe you'll see him again," she giggles at her phone, thoroughly distracted now.

"If that fates demand it," I mumble, finishing off my drink in a single swig.

Classes begin today, starting off the spring semester. My day begins with Calculus, Satan's greatest creation. Bless first-day intros that lack any actual work. Next is ITE, the easiest class for someone using computers since they could read and write. Then the first day of classes ends with English, the most weirdly complicated college course besides science.

I walk in and take the first seat closest to the door. Dropping my bag on my desk I begin checking my messages before class begins. I respect the amount of money I spent on these classes not to get distracted by my mobile device. Don't respect that class, but the copious amounts of money spent to sit here and do nothing till I can go home and reteach it all to myself.

The class fills up till it's at compacity, normal for the first day. The teacher walks in shortly after we were scheduled to start, dropping his case on to his desk.

"Hello, hello. Welcome to English 111, I am Mr. Farfick," the teacher begins the class. I set down my phone, shoving it into my bag as I give my sole attention to Mr. Farfick. Our eyes meet immediately as he is already staring, stiff as a bored and white as a sheet. I feel to be in a similar fashion as my blood runs cold and a nervous chuckle wishes to leave my throat.

Hello, Mr. Best-One-Night-Stand-Ever.

The hour and a half are spent in thick tension. Everyone else seems oblivious to the teacher and I's strife. Tobias- Mr. Farfick is fidgeting as he hands out papers, avoiding all contact with me as I do the same. I can't bring myself to look to the teacher who spent hours last week between my legs. Like, how would any expect to look at this man and not have your first thought be him giving you bedroom eyes while eating you out? That's just evil.

2 o'clock couldn't come fast enough, me being the first to bolt out the room. I race to my car, flustered all to hell as unwanted images of his o-face pops into my mind. It plays on repeat, evening morphing scenes to him at his desk doing the same. I can't drop it, I'm not 100% sure if I want to. I shake my head at the idea.

I have to change classes.

The next day I head to the offices to talk with a counselor about changing teachers. I sit in the waiting room longer than necessary till I'm called back. I jump, following the woman into her small box office.

'Hello, what can I help you with today," she asks, already clicking away on her computer.

"Uh, I was curious about other English 111 classes, the day isn't really working for me," I lie.

She nods," of course, let's see. We have a Tuesday and Thursday class at 11 am with Mr. Farfick, or Monday and Wednesday at 12:30 am with the same teacher."

I wince," no other teacher?"

She clicks away again, giving a sorrowful look," no, it appears he is the only available English teacher this semester. I can promise you that he has received nothing but praises from the previous student. He is a good teacher."

'also a good student', I think to myself.

"Alright, I trust you. I guess I'll have to keep it as is and figure it out myself. Thank you," I stand, heading out the office," have a good day."

"You too, bye," she smiles sweetly. I smile back, dropping it with a groan once out of sight. It seems I have no other options besides wasting a semester taking one class later. I have to deal with him.

Class the next day is equally tense as the one before. He ignores me altogether, not even looking to my side of the room as he speaks to the class. I can't blame him, even though it stings a bit. Right now I can't stare at him too long or saucy images pop into my head. Instead of paying attention, I come up with a plan of attack.

The obvious option is to talk to him, getting all out in the open. We were two consenting adults, there was nothing wrong with what we did. He wasn't my teacher and I wasn't his student, if anything it was the other way around. His pleased grin as he watches me cum on his fingers comes to mind. I shake my head from the thought.

2 o'clock comes around, startling me from my thoughts. I watch as the class heads out, leaving me to slowly pack as to stall. As the last student walks out I make my move. I stand before Tobias-Mr. Farfick-, startling him when he looks up.

"H-hello," he greets. It's kind of cute to see him so flustered.

"We should talk," I get straight to the point. He drops his shoulders, sighing as he looks around. He stands from his desk, grabbing his bag as he heads to the door.

"Let's talk in my office then," he leaves me to follow.

We walk up to the teacher's offices, stopping by one as he unlocks the door. He waves me inside, shutting it behind himself as he lounges against it. I look around his station, stalling a bit as I admire his knickknacks and pictures.

"Nice office," I say.

"Thanks," he answers. I glance over at the couch against the wall.

"You have a couch," I say casually," that's neat."

"Yea, I sometimes sleep here when I need it," he answers.

The silence is deafening as small talk falls flat. I sigh, knowing avoiding this won't do us any good.

"About, uh, last week. We don't need to let that affect our school relationship. I won't bring it up if you don't and we can just pretend it didn't happen," I offer.

He jumps from the door," right! I'm sorry I've been so skittish in class, this kind of thing has never happened before and I really didn't know what to do."

"yea, can't say that I've run into this issue before either," I joke with a dry laugh.

The silence comes back just as strong, suffocating me as I try to think of anything to say. I kick my shoe against his carpet, cleaning off a bit of dirt. With a huff, I look back at him.

"Well, I guess that's it. I'm going to head out now," I point to the door," yep." I skirt past him, grabbing the handle. As I tug it open he speaks.

"Why did you leave in the middle of the night," he asks. I freeze, confused. I shut the door as I turn back to him.

"What?"

"Before, you snuck out before morning and I was really wondering why. I don't do the one-night stand thing often but when I have they normally stay for breakfast," he explains. I'm caught off guard by his genuine displeasure of me leaving that night. In my experience men generally don't want me around the next morning.

"You wanted me to stay for breakfast," I ask dumbfounded.

"well yea," he says like it was obvious," you were really fun at the bar and I wanted to try to get your number if you were up for that."

"You wanted my number?"

"of course. I thought the night was fun, even great, and going out for dinner sometime was something I wanted to do with you," he shrugs," but you clearly weren't up for that as you snuck out in the middle of the night."

I stare at him even more confused," you wanted to get dinner sometime?"

"Can you stop repeating what I've said," he snaps," you know what, never mind. I was just curious and for the next week I kept thinking, 'did I do something wrong' 'was the sex not that good'? It hardly matters now so excuse me for taking up your time. Feel free to see yourself out." he stomps out of the way, his hooves clomping on the floor. I continue to look at him dumbfounded, utterly conflicted at his confession. No man has ever wanted me to stick around.

His dejected face plucks at my heart as my emotions guide me forward. Without truly thinking I grab his tie and tugs him close, pressing my lips to his in a determined kiss. He jumps, not reacting as I pull away.

"If I'd known you wanted me to stay for breakfast I would have stayed. I would have love to give you my number. I honestly don't know if I would have agreed to dinner but my answer may have leaned towards yes, and you were the best sex I ever had," I ramble on, answering all his questions in one go.

It takes a moment for him to catch up, I give him a second to catch up. I fiddle with his tie, becoming nervous as he stares at me dazed.

"The best sex you ever had," he huffs with a smile.

"By a long shot," I smile wide. He grabs me and tugs me against his body as he steals a kiss. The taunt string that sat between us snaps as he backs me against his desk. He lifts me easily onto the tabletop, fitting himself between my legs. I run my hands through his hair, petting at his horns before tugging him closer.

Our tongues mix as we fiddle with one another's pants. I reach into his easily, finding his hard cock and pulling it out. He unbuttons my pants, tugging them hard down my legs. As I jerk him off he splits away from my lips, a string of saliva connecting us. I lick it away, grinning like a fool at his dazed face. I palm him, pleased to be reacquainted once more. With a groan he splits my legs farther, shoving my underwear to the side to pet at my cunt.

"So wet," he hums," I need you."

I squeeze his cock as I whisper in his ear," then take me, Professor." he rewards me with another moan, his head dropping to my shoulder as he shoos my hand away from his cock. He tugs me to the end of the desk, wrapping my legs around him as he thrusts in.

He whines," Divine.' I couldn't agree more.

He doesn't draw this out any longer, grabbing my hips and pumping into me. We both grunt and groan, keeping quiet despite the thumps of his thighs hitting the desk are louder than us. I hold on to him, already feeling the throbbing in my clit. Everything about this adds to the appeal. Fucking in his office where anyone can walk in. Fucking my teacher shortly after class. Fucking the sexy Satyr from last week. All together brings me towards my climax faster than normal.

Tobias grunts, stuttering in his movement. He begins panting, lazily kissing my shoulder. His hand snakes around from my hip to where we meet, beginning to rub at my clit with practiced ease. It seems he hasn't forgotten. I choke on a cry, burying my face against his neck as I tug on his tie and fist his hair.

"Please, please," I ramble under my breath. My body feels like fire as my coming climax starts to wash over me. I jerk into his next few thrust, wanting to worship his magic fingers. I cum with a surprised yelp, biting into my fist as my legs tremble around his hips. He grunts, his face pinching in agony as he bucks wildly. A few wavy moans leave his lips as he tosses his head back. I feel him cum, pulsing as he fills me. I shudder at the feeling, my nails digging into his hair.

He comes back to himself first, dropping his head so his hair obscures his face. With a large breath, he looks at me between his bangs. He smiles, getting me to smile back.

"Never disappoint, Annika," he praises. I nearly giggle like a girl at that.

"Not so bad yourself," I tug on his tie, pulling him into a kiss. We bask in the afterglow, feeling high as we lazily kiss. It isn't till someone knocks on his door does the reality of our situation sink in.

Quickly, he pulls out, tucking himself away as I right my underwear. He straightens his tie, fixing his hair as I hop off the desk to pull on my pants. I feel his cum dribble out, shivering in mild disgust at the feeling. I walk over to my bag swinging it over my shoulder as Tobias- Mr. Farfick- answers the door.

"Hello," an older woman greets," Do you have a moment?" she glances at me then back to him.

"Uh, yea," he jumps to attention," we finished our conversation, let me just see Mrs. Annika out."

The older woman walks in, stepping near his desk, as he guides me to the door. I step out into the hall, turning to him when I notice him lingering. He grabs the door and doorframe, leaning towards me to whisper in my ear.

"See you in class next week," he purrs. A blush curls up against my neck as I give an unsteady, 'ok'. He chuckles, warm and deep, before shutting the door.

I stare at the closed door for a moment, everything truly setting in now that I'm alone. A shiver of excitement rumbles around my body as I rush down the hall. I make it out of the building and to my car where I sit in silence to think about everything.

"He creampied me in his office," I say surprised," my teacher creampied me." I grab the steering wheel to steady myself, groaning in discomfort. "what the hell is wrong with me," I shout," nobody actually does this! I don't do things like this, I'm a semi-good person who definitely doesn't sleep with their fucking teacher!"

I try to scold myself, I really do, but it was all too good to be truly mad about it. Tobias is just… he is fantastic. I know if given the chance to sleep with him again I would take it, with no hesitations. Still, it's my teacher. Sure he is my teacher for just the semester and I met him before then, but should it be an issue? Will he get fired if someone knew? This isn't high school rules anymore, it's not illegal, but he could get fired.

"fuck," I thunk my head on the steering wheel," he better know what he's doing because I sure as hell don't."

I finally drive home, still going over what happened. The weekend comes and goes as I get the minimal homework I have done. When Monday comes I'm almost giddy at the aspect of having English today. Who knew the only way to get me excited over school was to fuck my teacher?

Calculus almost gets my mood down, almost. ITE continues to be the easiest class in existence. Finally, English 111.

Mr. Farfick is here on time, sitting on his computer and not paying anyone a bit of mind. I sit in my previous spot by the door, trying my damndest not to stare at him. We didn't decide if we were going to ignore what happened, the two cases of it. Are we pretending it didn't happen? Will it happen again? I nearly moaned at the idea of it happening again.

"Hello, hello," he greets," I hope you all had a lovely weekend and managed to get the one assignment I gave you done." he looks out to the class, not avoiding me but not paying attention. Are we pretending it never happened? A few people groan out a droll yes as we all get out our assignment.

He walks the room, picking them up at the end of each row. As he passes mine he stops.

"Did you do your homework," he asks casually. I hand him the stack with a nod. He mumbles loud enough for me," Good girl," and walks on. I choke on my breath, gulping hard as I try not to smile like a fool.

Guess we aren't ignoring anything.

Class is filled with subtle glances and double meaning remarks. It's hard to not give him flirty looks and twirl my hair like some freshman. I try to keep it professional while playing along. Class ends and I stall putting my things away. As the last student leaves, I walk up to his desk.

"Afternoon, Annika," he smiles to himself as he works on his computer," do you need something?"

"Besides you," I shrug, resting my hip next to his desk," maybe."

He looks up with a pleased grin," you need me? Should I be so tempted?"

"Not yet, I have some questions," I say with a bit more seriousness. He sobers a bit, leaning forward on crossed arms.

"What can I help you with, Annika," he asks. His genuine want to help shines through as he focuses solely on me. It makes me stutter a little, my heartwarming up more to him.

"two things," I start," what's happening here, and will we get in trouble for it?" it's best to cut to the chase with this.

He smiles again," worried, Annika?"

"About my degree, yes," I answer honestly.

He drops his chin to his desk," you won't get in trouble, I might, but it's mostly surface-level disciplinary actions like time off and pay cut."

"Are you so willing to lose money because of a fling," I ask, a little angry at his lack of self-preservation.

"A fling," he cocks a brow," would I be too bold to want more than that?"

I recoil at him, not put off but surprised. "You want a relationship or something," I ask.

He nods," I told you I liked you, Annika, and I'd like to see where this goes. Of course, I'm not going to force you but if I want something I generally go for it. To let a few weeks decide if I should drop all feelings for you or not seems rather stupid. I won't be your teacher for long, and you won't be my student for long. So why stall just so we don't feel weird about it?"

I watch him, a bit lost in thought. I mean, he has a point. As long as I don't get in trouble and he doesn't care about getting in trouble then what's the issue? Still, it begs the question of 'am I interested in being in a relationship with him?'. I look at his eager face, seeing the dorky man that lies within. He is excited and I think I feel that too.

"ok," I shrug.

"Ok?"

"ok, as in yes or sure. Generally another word for affirmation," I explain as I reach into my bag, ripping a small piece of paper out.

He watches eagerly," I know what that means, but what are you affirming?"

I write my number on the paper, handing it to him," to going out. Now I have to leave, feel free to write."

I walk out with a cute little wave. He looks from me to the paper, smiling wide as he gets his phone out. I walk out of the building with a pep in my step.

He calls later that day, to my surprise. I answer the unsaved number knowing fully well who it is.

"Hello, hello," I mimic his class greetings.

"evening, Annika, hope I'm not calling at a bad time," his voice purrs through the speaker. I lounge back in my bed, pinching the phone between my ear and shoulder.

"Of course not, I was just doing some boring English homework," I tease.

"Boring? How rude of the teacher to give out such lame assignments then," he answers. I snort, shaking my head.

"It's fine, he's pretty cute so he can get away with keeping English boring," I joke.

"We will get back to the cute part, you don't like English?"

I grab the paper on the bed, looking it over," it's not my favorite, I tolerate it. Perhaps I just need proper motivation."

"What kind of motivation?"

I hum," not sure, some positive reinforcement wouldn't hurt."

"like perhaps an evening with your 'cute' professor," he asks, his voice low and sultry. I nibble on my lip, feeling giddy.

"Wouldn't hurt," I bite back a smile," I heard he is really good in bed."

"Is that right? I don't think he would mind giving up some of his free time to keep you motivated to pass," he says.

"you would know?"

"of course, I'm really close with him," he drops his game, speaking without the erotic purr," can we stop pretending I'm not him, I'm getting hard and I wanted to have an actual conversation with you."

I bark out a laugh," you're hard? I didn't even do anything."

He snorts," oh, you did plenty. I could barely sit in class today without thinking about bending you over my desk. See your cute little pussy soaked and spread for my enjoyment."

"that's so cruel, how am I to sit in class now knowing what your thinking. Every time you walk by I just wanna grab your horns and drag you to you're knees to get you to work on getting this 'little pussy' ready for your enjoyment," I tease back. I hear a faint groan from him as if he pulled the phone away.

"Stop, I wanted to be a gentleman and ask you how your day was," he scolds.

"well it's better now, only if you were here to deal with this throbbing between my legs it would be amazing," I grin as he groans again.

"Naughty, naughty," he tsks," tell me about your day and we can decide tomorrow how to deal with you in my office."

"Promise," I ask.

"Promise," he says firmly.

We actually manage to talk about something other than sex. I talk about my day, as does he, and go on about my degree. It's sweet how attentive he is throughout, adding feedback about class courses and teacher drama. The entire time we talk I can't wipe the smile off my face.

The next day in his office is…eventful.

"Fuck," he moans near my ear. He pounds into me against his bookshelf, the shelves hitting uncomfortably against my back. I can't bother to care as his finger rubs my clit and his cock pumps into me. Small wails leave my lips, leading him to cover my mouth with his own. Our cries of pleasure mix, his hips adding the beat to our music of the body.

"Please," I beg against his lips.

"I got you," he mumbles. I grapple at his shoulders, squeezing him closer with my legs and grinding into his thrusts. He grabs my hands from around him, pinning them on the shelf with our fingers clasped together. He kisses me, swallowing my groans as I fall apart.

"T-Tobias," I shutter.

"Annika," he echoes back, squeezing my hand as his face pinches. His cum floods me once again, painting my insides with his seed. We rest against each other, breathing heavily in the silent room. Tobias rocks his hips slowly, leaning down to press sweet kisses to my cheek and neck.

"So beautiful," he whispers," I could stay like this forever."

I smile lazily," yea, I could to-" I'm interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Mr. Farfick," a younger voice calls out. Their silhouette is partially seen through the frosted glass.

"Shit," Tobias- Mr. Farfick- curses. He pulls out, setting me down gently on my feet. I watch him fumble with his clothes, tucking himself away and rebuttoning his shirt. He is quite the sight as I slowly fix my clothes.

"Seem a bit flustered there," I tease.

He looks to me a bit panicked as he fixes his tie," well yea, there is a student at my door."

"Mr. Farfick," they call again.

"Just a moment," he answers back.

I button my shorts as a mischievous smile curls my lips," I thought you didn't mind getting caught."

"No, I said it's not a big deal if I get caught, but I rather not if I can help it," he corrects. I stand at the bookshelf with my shirt still undone and bra unhooked. With him all proper and straight he looks to me, his eyes drop to my breast before he looks back to me.

He squints as he walks over and begins to right my clothes," Don't be evil right now."

I tug his tie and brings him in for a kiss," who says I'm being evil."

He closes his eye in frustration, growling low in his throat," be a good girl and go sit down by the desk."

"Ok, Mr. Farfick," I purr, kissing his cheek before I sit back down. He huffs, walking over to the door. Before he opens it he throws me a warning look.

"Sorry, I was speaking with another student. What do you need," he asks the tall lad before him. I don't bother paying attention, looking around his room, and thinking back on moments ago.

I don't hear him shut the door or walk over till he grabs my hair and slowly guides my head back. He scowls down at me, pulling my hair a little tighter

"Something wrong," I ask casually.

"You, young lady, are in big trouble," he twists my chair and frames me with his arms. I grab his tie again, pulling him closer.

"what? Little old me," I mock innocence. He rolls his eyes, letting me tug him in for a kiss.

The semester is a lot more fun than I anticipated. We have fewer moments in his office after the last incident with the student. But we make up for it at his place on the weekends. English becomes a lot more fun when every good grade is rewarded with gratuitous sex.

At the final week of class, I lay in Tobias' bed, snuggled up in his arms after another study session. I pet my foot up his hairy legs, relishing in the softness of his fur. He opens his eyes, a lazy smile decorating his face.

"Hi," I whisper.

"Hello," he shuts his eyes back, pulling me closer.

"Finals are next week, imma be a bit too busy to come over," I say quietly, not wanting to break the peace of the room.

He hums, answering in his gravelly voice," you sure you don't want some help studying?"

"I actually need to study," I answer," we do a lot less studying when together."

He gropes at my ass," I don't know what you mean, I think we did a lot of studying tonight."

I snort," yea if I was taking anatomy." he chuckles, snuggling his face against my chest. I pet at his hair, pushing it off his forehead and around his horns.

"I wanna make a deal if I have to spend a week without you," he grumbles from between my breast.

"What kind of deal," I scratch the back of his head. He hums, rubbing his cheeks against my boob.

"Pass all your exams and I'll take you out to dinner as a reward. Nothing cheap, but a genuine date," he looks up at me as he speaks. We haven't gone out before, deciding against it for reasons. The fact that he wants to almost knocks the breath from me. A part of me always saw this as a fling, even though he hasn't validated that thought. We talk, often, but sex is a given anytime we're in the same room. It's nice to be properly taken out, shown off without the threat of consequences.

"And if I fail," I ask instead of answering. He cocks a brow, rising and crawling over me. I pet at his chest, smiling at where this was going. He leans down, kissing under my jaw.

He whispers," let's just say, I suggest you don't." I can't stop the girlish giggle that leaves my mouth, relishing in the love bites being littered across my neck.

The next week is rather torturous. I nearly call Tobias just to get an excuse to stop doing study packets. I hold strong, keeping distractions to a minimum. For some reason, I really wanna get the best grade I can, perhaps to have something to be proud of when I show Tobias. I fluster at the idea that I want to impress him.

Exams are torturous, especially in Calculus. The ITE exam was a joke, only one or two questions being confusing. English wasn't hard but trying to focus with Tobias just a few feet away was its own form of torture. When he walked around the room I nearly covered my answers in pure nervousness. The one time I catch his eyes, he gives a sweet motivating smile. I keep that with me as I turn in the test and walk out.

I don't see Tobias till grades are posted, wanting to give him whatever news I have the second I know. I skip to his house, feeling giddy as I knock on his door. I bounce on my toes, waiting for him to answer as I pinch my phone in my hand. The door opens and I nearly shove the phone in his face with my excitement.

"I passed them all," I cheer. He takes the phone from me, checking it over.

"Got a C in calculus," he tries to scold, a smile still tugging on the corners of his mouth.

I roll my eyes," C's get degrees, you try taking that class."

"You're right, I can't talk, I failed calculus in high school," he sets my phone on the table by the door and picks me up. I wrap my legs around his waist, hugging him as we walk inside.

"So dinner this weekend," I ask, bouncing in his hold.

"Well, since you were such a good girl. I guess," he jokes," but first, I've missed you." he carries me over to his bedroom, dropping me on the bed before crawling over me. I drag him down for a kiss, smiling like a fool the entire time.

"Proud of you," he says between kisses," you did very well."

"it's because I had a good teacher," I tease. He snorts, working on removing my clothes as I work on his.

I do hope the sex isn't different now that he isn't my teacher. He makes me swallow those words that night.

[victoria-daydreams]

Of Vices and Virtues

Chapter Six: Training Day

AN: Happy Black History Month! What better way to start this month than updating a black fanfic, which reminds me to say go support other black fanfic writers on Tumblr. And do yourself a favor and read up on figures other than MLK Jr. and Rosa Parks.

Trigger Warnings: none

Word Count: 3.0k

Taglist: @azayamari​

Chapter Seven: Specialty

We were in the library, it was a huge room with an open interior, lined with walls of books and several nooks to sit and read in. Charles and Erik wanted to explore my empathic abilities further. I picked at the loose strand of my shirt remembering the disgust on my face about the plain attire I'm wearing. I lifted my head, my eyes meeting Erik's and we began to play a game, pointing out the ostentatious items in the room with our eyes. A bronze lion head. Awards from Charles' ancestors. Ridiculous looking portraits. An antique cigar box.

"Do you know the extent of your empathic abilities Claudia?" Charles asked curiously, sitting across from me in a sofa chair, ending our game.

I turned my attention to him, "No Charles, people do not volunteer to see the extent of my powers. Being able to manipulate emotions tends to unnerves people," I quipped, smiling.

"I'm surprised, I thought that's what you do regardless of how people feel," Erik stated, peering out the library window.

"Erik," I gasped mockingly, and put my hand on my chest as if I was offended. "Your lack of faith in me, wounds me," I finished jokingly.

Erik snickered before turning around and walking to where Charles and I were sitting, "What do you know that you can do?" he questioned, as he lowered himself into the chair next to Charles'.

"Sense, feel and understand emotions, feelings, hopes, dreams, desires, and fears of others," I listed simply, shrugging my shoulders. "I can create illusions also. So, as you can tell manipulation is my specialty," I answered, spreading my hands out in front of me.

"Do you mind if you show me?" Charles asked curiously.

"You're joking right?" I chuckled in disbelief, arching my brow at him. "When I get inside people's head like that, the illusion can seem so...vivid," I warned, sitting comfortably in my seat.

"I can take it," Charles assured, adjusting himself in his seat.

"Well, it's your funeral, Charles," I joked, as I closed my eyes and allowed myself to relax and shortly after he does the same.

I reopened my eyes and looked at Charles, as soon as his grip tightens on the armrest I knew the illusion was in full effect. I watched my illusion through Charles' mind. He had to blink a couple of times before realizing that his sister, Raven, was lying deadly still on the floor. A puddle of wine red blood was forming around her and all he could do was stare. He could even smell the metallic stench of her blood as the life left her body. He tried yelling, moving, even using his mind to call out to her, but it didn't work.

"Charles," I called, trying to rouse him from my illusion. "Are you alright?"

"Charles," Erik called, and firmly put his hand on Charles' shoulder which seemed to break him of the trance.

"Pardon me?" he asked confused as he shook off his daze, realizing he was back in his seat.

"Claudia was asking how do you feel?" Erik repeated what I had just asked.

I was intently staring at Charles to see if he was paralyzed in shock or fear. Or maybe both.

"Oh...well that was quite the...skill. It's both incredible and terrifying that the images were so-" Charles began.

"Real? Vivid? Seems impossible to have been fake," I offered softly.

Charles met my eyes and nodded softly as I began to pick apart his emotions. He had never felt so vulnerable and useless until my illusion and he hoped he never had to feel that again.

"Well now my curiosity piqued," Erik stated, smirking a little. "Your illusions, they're that powerful?" he  questioned, looking at me intently.

A proud smirk appeared on my face and I leaned forward, "I could have the strongest man on Earth cowering in terror in a matter of seconds once I discover his greatest fear," I confessed, grinning widely. My eyes moved over to Charles, and found that he was already staring at me and looked to be in deep thought. He had a slight frown on his face and had been strangely quiet. "Charles, are you sure your alright?" I asked, concern lining my face.

"I'm fine really, I was just thinking, that's all," Charles explained, flashing a quick smile. "We've seen your capabilities with your empathic powers, how about your telekinesis?" Charles asked, placing his hands on his knees and pushing himself up from the chair.

A smiled beamed from my face once again, "Well, I'm glad you asked," I began, standing up from my own seat and clapping my hands together. "I'm going to need two mannequins for this demonstration," I instructed, before walking out of the library. "And come outside, it's too beautiful of a day to be stuffed up in the mansion," I called over my shoulder, as I left.

I opened the front door to the mansion and it was a lot warmer than it was this morning and I relished in the feeling of sunlight on my skin, small joys and all of that. The land around Charles's family home was even bigger than I thought. No matter which way I looked it seemed endless. I spotted a stone bench and I made my towards it, hearing the gravel crunch under my feet.

I sat down on the warm bench and closed my eyes basking in the warmth of the sun. The sound of footsteps behind me cause me to look over my shoulder to see Erik and Charles both carrying a mannequin. They both set them down from about twenty feet away from me and I stood up from the bench, shaking my arms out as I did to prepare them for what I was going to do.

Erik and Charles took their places beside me, I closed my eyes and concentrated until I felt a familiar sensation in my hands. I opened my eyes, my hands were surrounded by purple energy.

"And now boys," I began, lifting my hand up and one of the mannequin's floated off the ground, enveloped in a purple energy. "For my next trick," I continued, my eyes never leaving my target, with a pulse of telekinetic energy I crushed it my grip and it fell to the ground in a heap. I turned my sights on the second mannequin, this time lifting both my hands as the same purple energy encasing the limbs. I push my hands away from each other, ripping the mannequin apart and the limbs dropping to lawn. "Ta da," I sang, dropping my hands and glancing between Erik and Charles.

"That's incredible! Claudia, your control is amazing!" Charles commented happily.

"That all I can do for now, I'm a bit tired. But as you can see, I'm pretty adept with my telekinesis, and with your help..." I trailed off, looking between Charles and Erik.

"There's no telling how powerful you will become," Erik finishing my statement, with an excited grin.

"Why do you sound more excited than I am, Erik?" I questioned, with a smile.

Erik let out a short laugh before turning to face me, "Because with your abilities the possibilities are endless," he answered, a smirk on his lips.

~~~x~~~

"What are we doing in here?" I asked surveying my surroundings. The small, personal gym had the typical equipment you expected to find. At the front, were some weight benches with the bar resting above it. Behind the benches at the far end of the room held two punching bags, some sparring gear, and some free weights. "I've already did my fair share of lifting weights today," I complained, looking back at Erik.

After my awkward encounter with Raven and Hank I finally forced myself to work out. It hurt. A lot. To say my upper body strength needed improvement was an understatement.

Erik smirked, "We may have powers, but it's still very useful to know the art of hand to hand combat," he explained, as he placed a safety mat on the floor beckoning me over.

I nodded understanding why this was needed, attempting to improve my general hand to hand combat without the use of my powers would always be useful. There would be times when I possibly wouldn't be able rely on my abilities immediately and I would need to stall before being able to use my powers against an enemy.

"First thing you're going to learn is a basic punch," Erik began, grabbing my hand and balling it into a fist. "You not only need to know how to punch, but where to punch," he continued, lifting my fist to his forehead. "You aim too high, you'll hit their forehead which is the equivalent of hitting a brick wall," Erik explained, lowering my fist too his jaw. "Hit too low, you'll get their chin, also not recommended," he said, moving my fist to a higher place on his face. "The best place to punch is there nose or eyes that's where they'll be most vulnerable," Erik finished, releasing my fist.

"Where did you learn all this?" I asked curiously, letting my hand fall to my side.

"I was forced to teach myself how to fight, it was the only way I could survive..." he trailed off, with a faraway look before he suddenly lunged for me, tackling me to the ground being careful enough not to actually injure me.

"Hey! What the hell Erik!" I exclaimed, sitting up on my arms. "I wasn't ready!" I complained, before blowing a piece of hair out of my face.

"Rule number one, always be ready," Erik responded neutrally, but I could have sworn that the corner of his lips tugged upwards slightly into the hint of a smirk. "Did I mention places like the neck or the shin are also sensitive to impact. You should try it," he added cockily.

I glared at him, "You're such an asshole," I commented, as I got up and took a boxers stance.

Erik put his forearms up in front of his face and got into a defensive stance. I threw my first punch and I thought it was solid. I had a good arm on myself, apparently Erik felt otherwise.

"Come on Claudia, I've seen a sack of potato's hit harder!" he taunted obnoxiously. "Aren't you the same woman, who threatened to break a man's hand in seven different places," Erik reminded with mischievous eyes.

I quickly struck out at his neck hitting his jugular causing him to choke on his saliva, he lifted his hand to his throat, coughing hard as he rubbed it soothingly. I felt satisfied when he looked momentarily surprised at the force I'd used.

"Is that better?" I questioned mockingly, my lips curling upwards.

"That'll teach him for insulting and underestimating me," I thought.

Erik rubbed his throat one last time, "Claudia, that was not very ladylike," he finally commented, taking a while longer to reply.

"Lucky I'm a mutant then," I retorted, a smirk still on my face.

Immediately, I swung out my left hand attempting strike harder. I went to punch his abdomen, but he caught my hand and I drew back my foot kicking him in the shin. Erik caught a hold of both of my upper arms. My leg flew out to deliver another kick but he released my right arm just in time to catch my foot.

He tugged at my foot causing me to topple over onto the mat, he followed, dropping onto the mat into a position where he trapped my body with his own. I laid flat on my back on the mat staring up at Erik who had me pinned down with his legs that were on both sides of my thighs and his arms planted on the mat, level with my head. Staring up at him, I felt heat crawling up my neck and spreading to my cheeks as I became extremely self-aware of the position we were in.

And now being this close to Erik it made me realize that his mesmerizing irises actually had a bit of gray in them. Those stormy blue gray eyes stared down at me with such an intensity that a shiver ran up my spine. But yet I couldn't look away; his captivating gaze was somewhat beautiful, in a terrifying way. His eyes held mine much like the eyes of cat held those of a mouse. And like a mouse, I didn't move.

I felt the most peculiar sensation run through me, it felt as if my whole body was aflame. We stayed like that for half a second longer than necessary, stuck in our own world until the sound of Moira and Charles talking from afar brought us back into reality causing Erik to jump up and away from me before quickly pulling himself to his feet.

"Not bad for your first day," Erik began, clearing his throat as a way to clear the awkward tension that fell between us. Erik offered me his hand, I accepted his hand allowing him to help me upright. "But there's definitely numerous areas to improve on," Erik continued, shoving his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, and momentarily avoided my eye contact. "You are nowhere near intimidating or threatening as you think you are," Erik jested, facing me again with a shit eating grin on his face.

"You're insufferable, Lehnsherr,"

~~~x~~~

I stood in the doorway, half in the library and half in the hall outside watching him. Charles was sitting before the fireplace, an old novel resting in his lap as he read. The sunset sunlight brightened the room from the window behind his chair, and the sound of the other mutants' conversation from the dining room could be heard from somewhere down the hall. It didn't look like he wasn't really paying attention to the words on the page in front of him, but rather skimmed the familiar text absentmindedly while his thoughts wandered elsewhere.

I rapped quietly on the door frame and Charles glanced up, closing the book at the same time. He gave me a small smile and I made my way into the room and sat next to him on the sofa, offering a smile in return.

"I must thank you for your help today Claudia," Charles stated, placing his book down next to him. "Not a good first day, the results we had got today have been less than spectacular, but your help was greatly appreciated,"

"Is that so?" I questioned, lifting my feet from the floor and onto Charles' lap. "I really didn't do much," I reminded, with my arm resting on the back of the sofa.

Charles looked down at my feet and then back up to look at me, a smile on his face from my action and I merely shrugged returning his grin. What can I say, those shoes made my feet hurt. Charles slowly removed my flats one at a time and placed them on the wooden floor with a light thud, his hands slowly massaging my feet and I flexed my toes out.

"Nonsense. You being there for moral support was a big help today. Especially with Alex," Charles explained, moving his thumbs up and the soles of my foot, which felt heavenly and I let my eyes flutter close. "And me," Charles added quietly.

My eyes widened slightly, "Really?" I began, tilting my head. "I would've never guess that from you Charles. You always seem so cool, calm, collected. Not to mention perfect," I stated smiling, just as Charles pressed circles above my heel and I tried not to let out the moan that was threatening to come out.

"Well, no one's perfect Claudia," Charles commented, massaging my left foot now. "My confidence was a bit shaken after Alex's training, but after hearing and listening to your reassuring words...you took away the fear that I have about failing these kids," Charles explained looking up at me, his face illuminated by his million dollar smile.

His hands moved upwards slowly running both thumbs over the center of the sole of my foot.

"Speaking of fear..." I trailed off and Charles brought his eyes back to mine. "I make you uncomfortable," It is not a question, it is a statement. It's ironic that I should make a telepath uncomfortable, since our powers are uncannily similar.

Charles' hands faltered over my foot, "That's absurd, Claudia," he lied, but I can feel it in him, the roiling discomfort, the wish to get away from someone who can take and see and judge his worst memories with just a glance in his eyes. "I merely wish to help you hone your empathy," he reasoned.

"Did I forget to mention I can tell when a person is lying," I mused, causing Charles' hands to falter again. "It wasn't my place, but I wanted to know how you were doing after my illusion," I disclosed, and his hands stopped moving. "I left you feeling vulnerable, and I feel awful about it. I feel awful that I make you uncomfortable and I'm sorry," I apologized, gazing at Charles momentarily before looking away and pushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

Charles pulled my legs, dragging me closer to him and I let out a yelp at the sudden movement. Turning my head to him I noticed our proximity to each other, we were intimately close.

"I will admit that your illusion earlier today unnerved me, but I'm not uncomfortable around you, just the opposite actually," Charles clarified, as he cupped my face. "I am the most comfortable when I am in your presence, Claudia," he confessed, before leaning down and pressing his warm lips to my forehead.

Chapter Eight: Fun & Games

[frodos-bizarre-adventure]

@gingerreggg welp part 3 is up (part 1) (part 2)

Heads Up- Part 3 (Joseph x Bust Caesar)

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

"Joseph!" said Suzi in her gentle, merry voice. "I've come to visit!"

Inside the house, Joseph began to panic. "Caesar! I can't let her see you! She'll freak out!"

"What?" Caesar asked, looking up at Joseph. "Who's Suzi?"

"My old classmate from the art school, she can't see a living, talking clay bust like you! I need to hide you somehow!" Joseph's frantic eyes darted around for something to cover Caesar with, until they fell upon an empty cardboard box on a shelf by the living room.

"I hope you don't need to breathe, Caesarino!" he said, putting the box over Caesar, who sat on the floor of the living room.

"Well I have no lungs, you said--" complained Caesar before the box completely covered him. He complained in muffled screams from inside the box.

"Now be very quiet!" Joseph scolded. "Act like a perfectly normal, inanimate clay sculpture and everything will be fine!" With an irate grumble Caesar begrudgingly complied and soon all was quiet.

"Jojo? Is everything alright in there?" Suzi called from outside, knocking again.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Joseph called out, glancing back one more time to make sure Caesar hadn't budged, before he grabbed the door with shaky hands and opened the latch, to reveal a radiant and cheerful face crowned with blonde locks on the opposite side of the door.

"Jojo!" she beamed, sunny as ever. "It's been a long time!" Before Joseph could stop her, she came waltzing right into the house and began to look around as if she was in a museum. Typical Suzi, Joseph thought to himself, a clever and capable young lady but at times a bit of a ditz.

"I've heard that you'd moved into a new apartment in town for your final year in art school!" she said. "And you've got a nice little place too to do your work!"

"Well, it's not much, but I suppose it'll do," Joseph sighed uneasily. "I've just been so busy for my senior project--" Joseph's eyes shot a glance to the box covering Caesar. "--before I graduate and hopefully start my career! I just though a pad of my own would be good for my, uh...creative touch."

Suzi skipped around the room, marveling at all of Joseph's art on display-- sculptures, figurines, models, paintings-- that Joseph had put up on display on his walls and cabinets. She gaped in awe, like a five-year-old at the fair, as she admired all of his work.

"It's all so pretty!" she exclaimed. "I see why you've been so busy for the past two years. I hadn't even heard more of a peep of you all this while."

"I'm sorry, Suzi." Joseph sighed, rubbing his brow. "Sorry I missed out on so much time we could have spent hanging out...It's just been a lifelong aspiration of mine to do the greatest art I can! Art that seems like it could just come to life."

No sooner had those words left his mouth did Joseph suddenly regret his little Freudian slip-- fortunately it seemed Suzi hadn't clued on. She continued looking around the house at every artwork she could see, and as her stay dragged on Joseph grew ever uneasier that their secret would be up.

And so Suzi had gone out of her way and admired every piece in the apartment. Except for one.

"Jojo! What's in the box?" she exclaimed,

Joseph suddenly blocked himself between the box and Suzi. "Er, nothing!"

"You sure?" She asked teasingly. "I know you have a little surprise in there!"

"You've seen everything!" Joseph huffed, his face red and sweating. He tried to keep himself between Suzi and the box as she circled around trying to get a look.

And by a twist of misfortune, Joseph's foot slipped, knocking against the box hardly.

"Ouch!" cried Caesar, muffled.

Joseph smacked himself in the forehead. "Aw shit."

Suzi had heard the voice. "Who said that? It came from inside that box!"

"It's nothing, I promise!" Joseph pleaded, but he knew their little charade was over.

"You've been acting kinda weird lately, Jojo, there's something going on here," she said, her voice quizzical and filled with concern. And before Joseph could stop her, she lifted up the box--and two loud screams filled the air.

"AAAAHHH!" Caesar cried out squinting in the bright living room light, as his cover was lifted away.

"AH!" Suzi exclaimed in a brief, shrill yelp of surprise, as she met eye contact with Caesar. Caesar tried to freeze in place, but it was too late: she had already seen the sculpture moving.

"Joseph! It's gorgeous! It's...moving! How? How did you make this!" she squealed in delight. Joseph glanced up, surprised.

"You're...you're not scared?" the artist asked. "I...I was worried you'd be frightened of uh...of him."

"He's beautiful!" Suzi cried joyfully, reaching her arms out at Caesar. "Let me hold him!"

"NO!" Caesar screamed, and frantically tried to hop away with all his might. But as much as he'd practiced bouncing the whole night, he was, after all, little more than a limbless blob of clay with a human head, and against Suzi with her long legs and grabby arms, he wasn't winning any marathon races.

"Oof! He's heavy!" Suzi groaned as she grabbed Caesar, lifting the bust off the ground and onto the table.

"Don't! Let...let go of me!" Caesar protested, though his struggles consisted of little more than his neck and torso-stump flailing side-to-side like a wagging tail. And soon, to his dismay, he found himself up onto a tabletop again. Unable to jump more than a few inches, there was no getting away this time, and Caesar and Joseph glanced uneasily at one another, resigning themselves to face the consequences.

"Alright, I'm coming clean," sighed an exasperated Joseph. "Ask all the questions you want, as long as you keep it between the two of us."

"Three," corrected Caesar.

"He's alive! And yet...he's made of clay!" Suzi said, as she gently felt Caesar's shoulder. "How is this even possible?"

Joseph and Caesar exchanged glances. "We have no idea," they said in unison.

"Did you make him?" Suzi said, inquisitively sticking her finger into Caesar's ear which prompted a near-missed bite from the annoyed bust. "Oh, those teeth! And those eyes, and lips...he looks so human!"

"Well, I'm not perfect," joked Caesar dryly.

"What's your name?" Suzi asked the living bust excitedly.

"Oh...I'm...I'm Caesar," he replied, bowing his head shyly. "Jojo here gave me that name."

"This is beyond extraordinary," Suzi gasped in wonder. "You've created a living, talking, thinking person out of just clay and paint! Well, not quite a whole one, but still!" Caesar grimaced at the 'whole' comment.

"I wish I could explain it to you, Suzi, but...but I just can't," Joseph pleaded. "Caesar...is...he's my finals art project. He isn't even supposed to be alive! I just found this lump of clay in the attic while trying to find a medium for my grand masterpiece, I worked and painted it for several months, and before I knew it, my project was screaming and yelling and hopping around."

"Like a goddamn Veggietales character," Caesar sarcastically added, prompting a hearty laugh from the two artists. "Now put me back on the floor this instant," he demanded, unamused.

"He is amazing," Suzi said, complying, placing Caesar back down with a little effort. "I still can't believe you made something that looks and acts almost like a real person!"

Caesar's metaphorical heart sank upon hearing her words. "So...I'm not a real person then. I'm just a half-made piece of work after all." Pushing against the floor with his neck, he sadly began to hop away, in his now familiar clumsy, thumping manner.

"Caesar! Wait!" Suzi called out to him, managing to give the distraught figure pause. "I'm sorry, I meant to say you looked almost human, but you're definitely a person all the same, with or without a body. And I think you're quite handsome, for a bust."

Joseph watched as Suzi gently brought down a wall mirror and rested it onto the floor. "Have you seen yourself, Caesar? Look here."

Intrigued, Caesar began thumping over to the mirror, and for the first time since he awoke in Joseph's room, he got to see his reflection.

"That's...that's me?" Caesar gasped, leaning forward to inspect himself. He looked into his own brilliant green eyes, painted an iridescent glossy sheen, at his spiked, blond hair, formed of clay but etched with fine lines that created the illusion of individual strands. He pondered curiously at the strange pink patches on his cheeks, admired his own sculpted face, his chiseled chin, his thick, muscular-looking neck, and his smooth yet detailed collarbone.

And then...nothing. His form ended below in a rounded lump, with only the slightest hint of shoulders and the upper part of a chest. Beneath, there was only a flat pad of clay on which he stood--or sat? or lay?-- upon, painted the same textured fleshy tone as his head and neck were. Gazing over to Joseph and Suzi's reflections, he couldn't help but feel a hint of envy, at the graceful limbs that he lacked.

But at the same time, he couldn't deny that he was beautiful. Incomplete as his body was, he nonetheless felt, as he noticed every tiny detail, Joseph's hard, painstaking work in creating him to the utmost perfection.

And he felt loved.

"Wow," was all that Caesar could say at first, before he managed to gather up his bearings. "I really am a project of passion, ain't I?" he asked. Joseph smiled proudly.

"You're welcome," he said, stooping down to give the bust a gentle pat. "And I'm sorry I made you like this. It must be difficult."

"For now, my mouth is my hand and my neck is my leg," Caesar chuckled. "But I can tell you loved making me. Thank you, Joseph."

Joseph glanced up uneasily at Suzi. "Is it wrong for me to keep him, y'know, just a head? I chose to make a bust to begin with because I couldn't sculpt bodies! It's not my forte! And how long would it take to complete him?"

"Hmmm," Suzi hummed, observing Caesar from all angles. "He seems to be doing fine right now. But if you insist, perhaps I might be of help..."

---------

(Previous Chapter)

(Next Chapter)

[heartofsnark]

Can You Feel The Sun? (Chapter Eight): Icarus Falls

Notes: Why, yes, I am posting these relatively quickly. This is the last of a backlog since I’m actively still working on the next chapter, This is a doozy of a chapter, both emotionally and length wise, but I’m rather proud of it, if I’m being honest. I recommend settling in a snack and maybe...just maybe some tissues.... 

Word Count: 15327 

Chapter Warnings:  Multiple deaths, violence, gore, grief, angst. 

If you haven’t yet, you can read the previous chapter here!~

V and Jackie get into the backseat of the Delamain taxi. White and tan leather interior, despite looking the nicest she ever has in twenty years she still feels like she might stain the white leather. No driver, instead there’s screens and consoles in the back of the seats in front of them. An avatar of a bald man with stark unnaturally white skin and blue lips 

“Welcome on board this Delamain service. With Delamain, you leave your problems at the door,” the AI avatar greets them in a robotic voice. 

“Son of a bitch! Better fuckin' believe I will!” Jackie yells out, still grinning. V lets out a breath of air meant to sound like a laugh, but the lump in her throat isn’t making it any easier. 

“I see no reason why you should be using expletives.”

“Sorry, he gets… excited.”  Her voice is tighter than she wants it to be, her leg bouncing now. 

“Damn right, I’m excited. Hey, Del, what about that time I wanted to hire you for my cousin's bachelor party, huh?” 

“Unfortunately, we do not take on such contracts.”

“Three months I'd been savin' up scratch… Egh, water under the bridge. Hit it, Del!”

“Before we begin our journey, I must verify the identities of all customers. Please proceed to connect your personal links,” the mercs plug their personal links into the console, “Thank you. "Excelsior" package activated.”

Crisp subtitles for Delamain alight along her contacts, more comprehensive than the lip reading tech sometimes gives. Maybe his AI avatar enunciates more properly than a human, she wonders. 

“"Excelsior"? Hohoho, this just keeps gettin' better!”

Jackie laughs as the taxi cab starts to drive and V finds herself fiddling with her suit sleeve. It’s perfectly tailored, but she still feels like a kid in dress up. Having to pretend she’s a corpo, having to pretend to be a hearing person. Her bright painted nails seem to clash so much with the persona and she curses herself for not changing the polish. What if they’re caught right away? The corps smelling Heywood and The Badlands on them the second they walk through the door. What if the spoofed SID hack doesn’t work, what if the bot malfunctions… What if, what if, what if; spins around her brain. They can’t fuck this up, there’s no room for mistakes. One disaster will destroy their reputations, hell their entire merc careers. And that's the best case scenario. 

When she glances at Jackie there’s no hint of nerves, no hint of reservation or fear, just giddy excitement. Like a kid getting ready to hit up a party. 

“What’s got you riled up?” She asks in spoken English, deciding she’ll mostly speak for the ride since Jackie is the only person really here, that way he doesn’t have to look at her the entire time. And maybe she’s also hoping if she talks enough she won’t clam up too bad in Konpeki.  

“Hang on, watch this… Delamain! Initiate combat mode!”

She can see the bright red ink of his tattoo peeking from his suit sleeve, eyes drawn to it, and something about that scares her more; a hint of his Valentino roots showing, would it be a literal red flag for Konpeki security. 

“My apologies, but you do not appear to be in any sort of imminent danger,” Delamain crushes Jackie’s hopes, a frown replacing his grin. 

“Huh… Oh well. Trust me, he'll mow down an army of ‘Saka ninjas if it comes down to it,” Jackie explains to V and she wraps her arms around herself, resisting the desire to bring her legs up into the seat, trying to get her mind off her nerves. 

“So, what else is included in Excelsior mode?” V tries signing to the AI, curious if it has translation tech for ASL. 

“Comprehensive health coverage, including the handling and disposal of a client's remains should death occur on board,” Delamain responds without hesitation and instantly ruins any chance of her getting her mind off the massive risks within this job. 

“Damn. Shit got dark pretty quick,” Jackie comments. 

“Dex isn’t skimping though.” 

“And thanks to you, we're still gettin' a juicy forty percent.”

“You’re welcome.” 

“Excelsior…This is how you wanna cruise into the major leagues…” He says like the job is already done and they’re hitting up an after party… 

“Wouldn’t get too excited yet, Jack, doing a job not hitting up a party.” And her words are too sharp, voice too venomous and rough in her throat. She regrets it as soon as they leave her lips, as soon as she’s spoken them into reality, wishing she could swallow them back down. His face drops completely, eyes harsh and she knows she fucked up. 

“For real, V…? See me as that shallow?”

“I-”

“Lemme explain somethin' to you, V… My whole life I've spent in this shit around us! And I ain't goin' back!”

“I’m sorry, really, I just… I’m worried and I let my nerves talk for me, I’m sorry.” She quickly tries to smooth it over, those knots in her gut only winding tighter with Jackie mad at her. 

“Swear to christ, V, I will never fucking get you,” he says, shaking his head and looking out the window.

“What do you mean?” 

“Twenty years old, sitting in the back of a Delamain, on your way to do a job for Dex fuckin’ Deshawn and you can’t even muster a fuckin smile? You fuckin’ know what I’d have done to be where you are right now when I was your age, I was still dreaming of seeing The Afterlife! Took you less than a year to be here, took me ten! And you ain’t even happy about it! Then you act like I’m not takin’ it serious, like I don’t got my fuckin’ head in the game, just cause you can’t appreciate where the fuck you are right now!” 

She chews her lip, not sure what to say to him. Guilt coming over her. He’s right, she hasn’t lived in Night City nor been a merc nearly as long. He’s been doing this since he left the Valentinos… For Jackie this has been a lifelong dream, the ultimate goal. She didn’t even consider it a possibility until she met him and now she’s already on her way there. Of course he’s happy, on the precipice of his dreams coming true. 

“I’m sorry, really I didn’t mean to piss on your parade.” 

“Yet somehow you always do.” 

V sighs watching the city pass outside her window for a few more moments, tapping her fingers, that knot feels like a ball of lead now. She wants to claw her skin off,  tear and tear away at herself, at her being, and maybe, just maybe she’ll find someone better under the gore.  Someone who isn’t such a fucking asshole. Someone who knows how to keep their mouth shut and doesn’t ruin everything for everyone else. She’ll never understand why Jackie puts up with her, why he has for so long. She just doesn’t want to fuck this up. The job, her friendship, the little bit of happiness she’s built. V wrings her hands together, tight enough to hurt and she twists them a little harder, nails digging into the skin. If she can’t find anyone better maybe she’ll just claw away until she’s nothing at all. 

She’s already a bundle of nerves over the heist and she can’t stand another moment of the tension hanging thick in the air. 

“Did you fuck my wife?” She says in her best imitation of something between an Italian and a Brooklyn accent, watching Jackie’s face, the hint of a smile tugging at it. Tension starting to melt ever so slightly. 

“Don’t get me started,” he returns forcing the same cheesy voice. 

“Did you fuck my wife?” 

“I think you fucked my wife and got me started.” 

“I got started cause you fucked my wife.” 

“I could trace back the moment I got started it’d definitely be when you fucked my wife!” 

“That is unquestionably when I got started!” They’re smiling now, giggling at every other word as they choke on their cheesy jokes. Tension melts away as a weight is being lifted off her chest. 

“My records indicate that neither of you are married.” 

And they lose it, laughter filling the car at Delamain’s interjection to their stupidity. Its ridiculous and dumb and they sound like children. But, she’s thankful for the moment, the reprieve, where it’s laughter and not nerves tearing at her guts. 

A call notification lights up on V’s optic contacts, T-Bug’s avatar and V answers, the runner’s voice coming just a moment later. 

“Hey. How's things?”

“Eh,” Jackie answers, “been better, been worse.” 

“We’re nearing our destination,” Delamain tells them and V’s throat tightens. 

“Listen, set up a direct, encrypted line to guide you through Konpeki. V, ring Jackie now, see if we're in sync. Can't be too careful.” 

She puts a call through to Jackie, inteface telling her it’s establishing a secure connection.

“And?” Bug asks, expectantly. 

“Got static,” Jackie cringes, “Say somethin', Bug?”

“The greatest crimes issue from a desire for excess and not from necessity."

“Say what now?”

“Yeah, I read you. Not so much your Greek friend, though it was kind of exciting,” Jackie tells her with the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“Could give it some thought, try to understand…? How 'bout you, V?”

“I want more Aristotle!” 

“Fuck off, both.”

Jackie and V share a giggle at the runner’s expense, V’s going to miss when Bug goes into retirement. If all works out, even on the brighter side, it may be the last time all three of them work together. But at least Bug will be happy and safe, unlike V or Jackie, this was never her dream or end goal. 

“OK, tech checks out, looks like,” T-Bug confirms. 

“Será mejor que sí…”

“Stay in touch”

And V just realizes the taxi has stopped moving, through Jackie’s window she can see the front entrance of the hotel.  The bright red exterior walls, a worker standing at the ready and those nerves are clawing their way back with a vengeance, tearing up her insides and making her want to bolt, terrified that they’lll be found out as soon as they step foot in. They need to get moving, only way to get through the fear is to take control, do what needs to be done. And hopefully avoid puking in the back of an expensive AI taxi. 

“Thank you for choosing the Delamain service. And best of luck. I shall await here for your return.”

“Shit's finally happenin’… “ 

“Its game time, got any iron left on you, time to put it away,” she tells him, tucking her gun and knife into the center compartment. Jackie following suit. V tugs off her suit jacket and rolls her white sleeves to her elbows, making sure her blades are accessible from the start. 

“Alright, Hannah, let’s go.” 

V opens the door of the Delamain, greeted by the view in front of the hotel, in the distance she can see the space travel facility, night settled over the water. The hotel has trees and plants out front, trying to sprinkle some nature into the cement and chrome world of Night City. She carries her suit jacket over her shoulder, keeping one hand busy with it, while the other sits in her pocket. Hoping it will keep her from signing if she needs to talk. 

“Hold on, lemme grab the Flathead.” Jackie pops the trunk of the taxi and pulls out the case with the bot. 

The mercs take the two marble steps up, a vibrant stript of red along the path.There’s long white marble with planters and the name of the hotel inscripted in gold. 

“'Member, reservation's in your name… Ramón. You're there to meet Hajime Taki - military tech department rep. Papers are for the Flathead” T-Bug tells them as they get closer to the double doors. 

“Welcome to Konpeki Plaza,” a man in a red, black, and gold uniform greets them, bowing his head as they pass by.

There’s a large waiting room, white couches along the sides with monitors displaying documentaries and vases with red hologram plants branching out of them. A security gate divides the waiting room from the front desk, scanners to check each guest for weaponry. Beyond it she can see staff with gold plated skin. All non-security personnel of the hotel are gold plated; receptionists, concierge, bartenders, and the like. A requirement for the job, even staff must match the aesthetic. 

“Welcome to Konpeki Plaza. Please come through single file,” The guard tells them as they reach the full body scanner. 

“You got it, holm-- uh, ahem, sir,” Jackie stumbles and V screams internally, watching her friend step forward. Blue light crackles along him, like lightning, then it flashes red. Misty’s warning of mean reds, flaring in V’s mind. 

“Ahem. Hold on got something,” the guard stops Jackie before he can go any further, “Sir, care to explain why you're bringin’ a combat bot onto Konpeki Plaza premises?”

“Arms dealers.” V yells out quickly, hating how forced it sounds, tightening her fingers in her jacket, desperate not to sign on instinct and not realizing she forgot the ‘we’re’ part of her sentence until she finished saying it. 

“Excuse me?”

“Ah!” A gold skinned concierge steps over,  “You are here to see Taki-san, am I right? Please accept my apologies for the confusion.” 

“Pff,” Jackie scoffs as the concierge bows and walks into the lobby, waiting at the front desk. 

V steps into the scanner, guard assuring her it will only take a moment. It distorts her vision, crackling it with blue for just a moment. Then the guard tells her to go ahead and she walks forward, meeting Jackie at the desk. A woman with gold skin, black hair all shaved except for the bangs and sidelocks greets them.  And V is starting to notice that the Arasaka logo is everywhere, the corp hotel owned by them. On the screens, gold emblazoned on marble planters, and on pamphlets. The hotel and Arasaka logo are clearly one in the same. 

“Youkoso. Greetings and welcome to Konpeki Plaza,” she says bowing her head to them and V returns the gesture.

“We’d like to check in,” Jackie says and V sends him a silent thanks for talking. .

“Of course, just a moment, please” the receptionist taps away at a keyboard, “The name on the reservation is…?”

“Victorino.”

“Double room, two adults, one night. Correct?”

“That’s the one,” V tells her, with a tight nod. 

“Perfect… I will go ahead and notify Taki-san of your arrival.”

“Shit, no good, not part of the plan. Talk her up, V, stall!” T-Bug yells out over the call and V is once again wanting to scream. 

“That, uh,  won't be necessary,” she curses herself for stuttering, “We'll go freshen up first, notify him ourselves.”

“But Taki-san is expecting you, no…?”

“Senorita, do you know how long we been traveling? Eighteen hours from New Barcelona. With a delay on Metakey 'cause some cyberpsycho blew himself into bits inside the terminal…”

“Been a nightmare, ugh.” 

“Of course, I understand. You will be in the Lapis Lazuli Suite on level forty-two. Oh, one more little formality… Please validate your SID chip.”

“Honor's all yours, Hannah.” 

A tablet on the table lights up with a bright blue handprint and she’s reminding of her issue getting into her own apartment. Bug said she put a temporary hack on their SID chip, but there’s an extra twinge of anxiety as V lays her hand down on it. She half expects it to show a senior citizen, to be outed as a fraud and tossed out the door. 

“Everything seems to be in order. We wish you a pleasant stay!~” 

“Better get goin'.”

V murmurs a thanks, feeling a bit of relief at having that part of this whole thing done. Playing corpo is somehow more stressful to her than the idea of breaking into Yorinobu’s penthouse. She follows behind Jackie. Large marble planters fill the lobby, some with trees that nearly touch the staggeringly high ceiling. 

“New Barcelona? Really?” T-Bug comments as V follows Jackie up a short set of marble steps. 

“It's called improvisin' - you should try it,” V stares up at a gold framed painting, “Whaddaya think, Hannah"?

“...” V raises an eyebrow at him with a soft noise in her throat. 

“Quaint, cozy. Not like the hotel we had in Zurich for that convention.”

“Don't need that, Jack. Enough.”

“What? I’m takin’ this seriously!” Jackie grumbles when T-Bug scolds him. 

They take two turns through the lobby, guards passing by talking about dolls being left in rough shape as they near what looks to be a bar in the corner. It's an open pathway inside, the bar illuminated in pink and a gold plated woman stands at a podium bearing Arasaka’s logo. There’s a lit collection of alcohol behind the bar, liquor that costs more than V’s rent, which isn’t a hard feat but still rubs her the wrong way. 

“Bar don't look too shabby.”

“We don't do reservations on weekdays, so feel free to grab any available table. Or a couple of stools at the bar if you prefer?” She explains to them, a valley girl accent to her words. 

“Could bring Misty here one day. When we, uh… close this deal.”

“Might take a look around.” 

The idea of sitting down, if only for a moment, and catching her breath after the close call in the lobby sounds nice. Her nerves are frayed already, she’s never wanted to drink so much on a job before. A quick breather before she has a full blown panic attack. 

“Shit,” Jackie curses, “look like some fuckin' travelin' salesman with this case. Go ahead, I’ll go on upstairs.” 

V nods, watching Jackie go to the elevator, a part of her feels guilty, but she doesn’t intend to take too long. And it’s not as if she’s made visiting bars on the job a habit before, she can have this one. She rubs a hand over the back of her neck, feeling the chrome indents of her Mantis Blades cooling the skin. Half of the room is a lounge with black couches and slick pink metallic chairs, terrariums built into the walls. The other half is, gold stools and booths before the neon pink bar. Each side is filled with people mingling, dressed in high fashion, people who’ve gambled away more money than she’s ever seen. 

“And when I say heads're gonna roll, I don't mean it as a fucking turn of phrase,” a half drunk man slurs his speech at the golden bartender. The stench of whiskey clings heavy to his clothes. 

“Had enough guy, don’t you think? You’re making the other customers uncomfortable,” the bartender sends a pointed look towards V, a slight twang in his voice. She was looking for a breather, not conflict. 

“Good! 'Cause this affects them, too! It'll slap everyone in the face!” 

“What’s that?’ She entertains him, figuring it might get the guy gone sooner. 

“You wanna know what a bearer of bad news looks like? What's four hundred yards long, weighs a hundred thousand tons, and is nuclear powered…? The answer's docked in the bay! Hanako Arasaka decided -,” he hiccups, “decided to take a little vacation!

“Big deal.”

“Don't know how big just yet,” her sarcasm doesn’t penetrate the fog of whiskey, “And by the time we do, it'll.. it'll be too late. Screw this. I'm gonna get some sleep…”

With that the man stumbles away, taking the too strong smell of booze with him and the shining bartender turns to her. His shaved hair either red or pink, color distorted in the glowing light. 

“Evenin, what can I get you, baby?” 

Her nose wrinkles at the term of endearment, “little forward, don’t you think?” 

“Suckled it outta my ma's very breast,” he returns, “Fifty percent protein, the other half pure high octane CHOOH2.” 

He presses two gilded hands to the bar leaning forward as he regales his story and she can’t help but raise an eyebrow; he’s implying he’s a nomad, but why would he tell her that? 

“What?” 

“She had wind and dust in her hair, so to speak. Belonged to the Aldecaldos. Before the bombs began fallin'. Her final words? ‘Wherever you go, whatever you do, be yourself, David.’ And so I ended up here. Still no one but myself.” 

He’s full of shit, she decides immediately. Maybe her own distrust or her own frustration, nobody with nomad blood would end up here, gold plated and slinging drinks to corpos. At the very fucking least, they wouldn’t act so damn happy about it. 

“Lovely story if it wasn’t a crock of shit.” 

“Everyone's making something up,” he smirks, “Just like you, baby.”

“Excuse you?” she chokes out, feeling like ice water has been shot through her veins. He’s seen through her, that implication clear, but how? Even regaling to her some fucked up story of being a nomad, like he could smell the dust of the badlands still on her skin. 

“Can I getcha somethin'? At the least, water?” 

“Bourbon and cherry coke.” 

“You got it, baby.” 

The repeated use of the pet name earns him a glare, V tapping her fingers against the bar, his story and perceptiveness making her nerves worse. He sets the drink on the table and she downs it with a gulp, alcohol not quite loosening her how she hopes. She sets the glass down and leaves the bar, it may be petty but she doesn’t leave him a tip, frustrated at the idea he could have seen through her. 

She jabs the elevator button, tapping her foot as she waits and stares at some painting. Its all abstract bullshit, pretty colors, but she’s not sure she sees much else to them. The golden doors open, the back of the elevator windowed with what looks like foliage inside, maybe it’s just a screen. V steps inside and jabs to her level. And after just a short ride, it stops  at her floor. 

The doors open and she sees Jackie, looking over one of the art pieces, walking past a desk and concierge to greet him. 

“About time,” he says, when he spots her, the pair making a beeline to the suite. They walk past a couple speaking Russian, talking about testing on people, as they find the door. 

Jackie opens the door and she gets her first peek of it, stepping in. The furthest wall almost entirely windowed, looking out over the hills. Another expanse dedicated to a terrarium, a large plush bed, white sofas, and a table projecting hologram displays of fish. V tosses her suit jacket off onto the couch. 

“Pretty snazzy. Too bad we ain't stayin' the night. Nice choice, Bug.” 

“Didn't pick it for snazz. Offers quickest access to the dweller and servers.”

“Sí, sí, me acuerdo,” jackie grumbles as he puts the Flathead case down on a table in front of the terrarium. The little spider bot springs to life the second it’s case is opened. 

“Now you fire up the Flathead and find the shaft entrance.” 

“Sounds simple enough…” 

“Simplicity's sometimes toughest to master,” T-Bug tells her. 

“Aurelius? Aristotle? Who's it this time?”

“Yours truly, that one's mine.”

“Go ahead and find the shaft, chica, I’ll get the Flathead running.” 

V nods and begins looking around the room, scanning around, finding the shaft after a short moment. A little square panel standing out on the wall next to the terrarium, scanner telling her it’s Flathead compatible. 

“Found it.” 

“Good. Jackie, how's the Flathead lookin'?” T-Bug asks, he’s put the control shard in one of his neuroports while V was looking for the shaft, eyes now glowing bright white blue. 

“All set. Systems’re operational, charge at a hundred…,” a moment passes his expression furrowing as he shakes his head, “Mierda.  Little gonk's stuck.”

“Just gonna stand there and look at it? Gonna have to switch to manual control. V, take the control shard from Jackie. Gonna link your Kiroshis to surveillance so you can guide the bot.”

“Why me, Jack’s got full blown optics?”  She asks, as he pulls the control shard from his head. 

“Yeah, but you got better tech, unlike someone I ain’t run up my tab with Vik. Got last-gen firmware low flow. May be contacts, but you’re working with top notch Kiroshi tech.” 

“Plus someone already has some playtime with the bot,” T-Bug outs her and Jackie raises an eyebrow at V, a teasing smile on his lips. 

“You played with the bot?”

“Just… give me the shard,” she takes it from Jackie’s hand, “Surveillance cover the whole hotel?”

“Mhm. Even the bedrooms in the suites.”

“Seriously?” 

“You'd be surprised what people're willin' to give up to feel secure. Lucky for us, Yorinobu's an exception. Penthouse is dark, no hotel security.’

“Okay, here goes.” V pushes the control shard into the slot, the interface says it’s connecting her, then it glitches and in a moment she’s looking at herself and Jackie through the surveillance camera. 

“Patching you through to in-cam view. Might get a little disoriented, but don't freak”

Her vision switches between rooms; a man getting a lap dance from a doll in a dimly room, two men in another hotel room. And then it lands on a third room. A meeting of four people; two Arasaka suits and two faces she vaguely recognizes. The view doesn't shift again and she takes the chance to look closer, talks of losing control of Watson, election season. And it clicks, the mayor of Night City. 

“Camera’s set,” V tells Bug, political bullshit isn’t her business, she can see the vague outline of the Flathead creeping into the room.  Only slightly visible to her thanks to her connection, 

“Get him to the next vent.”

V scans and finds the next vent shaft tucked in the corner of the room, sending the Flathead to it. She watches as it crawls and creeps through the room. 

“C’mon little buddy, you got it, yes,” She cheers on the little machine as it skitters across the camera and into the vent. 

“It’s a Military grade combat bot, not your pet, V. Patching you into the next cam now.” 

The next room appears, more brightly lit with two maids working to clean it. V goes to send the Flathead into the vent but the request is denied, detecting one of the cleaning ladies is too far into it’s path. 

“Cleaning crew’s in the way,” V tells Bug, listening to one of the women start drooling over Yorinobu. 

“Gotta distract her. Hmm, let's see what's on the subnet…temp control on the terrarium, sic the bot on it.” 

V follows the runner’s orders scanning and sending the Flathead onto the temp control. Barely a moment passes before the maid’s notice, freaking out about how expensive it is. The merc takes her chance and sends the bot into the unblocked vent shaft. 

“Little guy’s through.”

Next cam flickers into a green tinted maintenance hallway, the bots legs tinkering across the floor. Vent on the other side of the room, V sends it through, smiling as her little buddy makes his way through. And it brings her to a new camera, it looks like where the surveillance feeds lead to. A console and row of screens with a security guard watching them. 

“Dweller's just beyond the door. Flathead can jimmy the lock.”

V sends the command, watching it scamper to the door, tendrils working at the lock. But nothing gives away. 

“He’s having some trouble, poor feller.” 

“Shit… Gotta be another way. Lemme think… Got another cam other side of the door, but it's disabled.’

“Got a CCTV port, might be able to enable it.” 

“Go for it.” 

The Flathead creeps across the room and jacks into the port, giving V access to the other camera. And V switches her vision to it, the next room looks like a high tech runner’s nest. Two netrunning chairs in deep cooled divots within the room. But only one is in use, a man jacked into the security frame, illuminated in blue, screens running code around him. 

“Dweller’s inside.”

“Just as planned.”

“Still don’t get why they only have the one.” 

“Decent dweller's as good as a dozen rank-and-file. Lemme graft a demonoid onto your link, you’ll be able to jack the bot directly into the chair and neutralize the runner.” 

“Got’cha” 

“You'll have to get the Flathead in there first, though.” 

“Got another shaft grate,” V finds when she twists the camera’s view, there had to be a vent in the other room, servers lining the walls. Bad ventilation and the entire operation overheats. 

“Shaft may link both rooms, looks like. Toggle to the other cam.” 

V does so, a moment of scanning and she finds a hidden shaft grate in the floor, “Think I got it.”

“Send the Flathead over there, then toggle over to the second cam.”

She waits until the bot is prying open the vent in the surveillance room, then flickers back over to the runner’s den, eyes on the vent and hoping she didn’t send their tech into the wrong room. A moment passes and she sees her robotic friend creeping his way out. 

“Our friend’s inside.” 

“Flathead into the chair, V, jack in.” 

The bot crawls across the floor and into the netrunner’s cubby, creeping up the chair and scuttling over the man’s body. Deep in the subnet the man doesn’t stir or even notice as the bot hovers over his face and jacks into the chair. And the code across the screen glitches, replaced by a T. 

“Holy shit.” 

“Whoop! Got him! Love those daemons!” Bug cheers, louder and more excited than V has ever heard her. They did it, the bot is in, T-Bug has access to it all. 

“Uh, Flathead buddy stays, right?” 

“To keep an eye on the dweller, yeah. Punching into Konpeki’s main net. Go ahead and log out.” 

The young merc’s vision starts to glitch and flicker red, her pulling the shard from her head, everything spinning. Lightheaded and her body feels both too light and too heavy. Like she could collapse and float away all at once. 

“That's how it's done! How ya feelin'?” Jackie asks, concern lacing his voice. 

“Like I’m about to puke on a rug worth more than my car.” 

“Bug? How're you doin' on time?” The runner doesn’t respond right away, a moment too long passing. 

“Bug?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I'm here. Soooo listen, ICE is thicker than I thought. Piercing it'll take a couple hours.” 

“A couple hours?! Can't do it any faster?”

“Want my brain to burst into flames? Just siddown and enjoy your snazzy suite.”

“Thanks, I will! V, you take it easy, c’mon rest for a bit.” 

V doesn’t need anymore prodding, settling down onto the white sofa, hoping her head will stop spinning and stomach cease churning by the time Bug is done. The merc kicks off her heels and lays across the sofa, softer than her bed. Jackie sitting across on the other side of the table, V brings her hand up to her face, trying to block out the blue light from the holo projector. But catches herself looking at the bracelet Misty gave her, the way the beads catch the light, remembering the name of it. 

“Hey, what was our suite’s name again?” 

“Lapis lazuli, why?” 

“Isn’t that what Misty’s bracelets are? The blue beads with the gold.” 

“Oh...yeah, ain’t that some shit, must be a good sign.” 

“Maybe… she read your cards before this?” 

“Nah, didn’t get a chance, nagged me about mean reds though. What about you, cards in your favor?” 

“All I remember is something about a magician and love, blegh.” 

“Hehehe,” his laughter is warm and fills the huge room, “telling you, one day you’re gonna be head over heels with some chiccy or mano and you’re not gonna know what to do with yourself.” 

“That how it was with you and Misty?” 

“Pssh, knew I was crazy about her from day one, took a while to work up the nerve though one day I just told her the truth.” 

“That you were in loooove~.”

“More like I’d take a bullet for her, chica.”

“Romantic.” 

“Fuck yeah it is, in Night City, that’s worth a billion I love yous.” 

“So you say.” 

“Keep doing that and you’re gonna rub the finish off Vik’s work,” Jackie tells her and she realizes she’s been rubbing and fiddling with her implants, “be a waste for free work to be ruined.” 

“I’m gonna pay him.” 

“You give him anything upfront, even a dime?” 

“I… gave him a hug…” 

“Wow,” Jackie says half laughing and she’s laughing too, “a whole hug for top of the line chrome! Probably wasn’t even a real hug, just your half ass shit!” 

“I may have only used one arm.” 

“Santa mierda, V, gotta learn to hug people like you mean it.” 

“Yes, yes,” she yawns, “blah blah blah, never know which hug will be the last one, blah….” 

“Flathead wear you out that bad?” 

“Maybe a little…” Her stomach feels better, but her head is still light, fuzzy. And in the plush of the sofa, with Jackie close by, she finds herself drifting away. Eyelids getting heavier with each word, each lull of his voice. She didn’t drink much, but she’s sure the bourbon didn’t help. 

“Gonna be a while, might as well catch a cat nap, chica. Though Bug might not like it, haven’t quite managed to get the stick out of her ass.”  

“Yeah..maybe…” 

The world fades away, a soft fuzzy sleep taking over. Time ticks by around her as she catches a moment, or maybe several, to sleep. Her brain is still a little foggy, but the dizziness is gone by the time she slowly starts to wake back up. A bad case of cottonmouth as she wakes, world filtering back in. 

Her suit jacket is tossed over her, a makeshift blanket she didn’t put there, she rolls over to sit, more stable than she was before. The time on the terrarium panel tells her only an hour or two has passed.  Jackie’s back is too her, his eyes staring at the window. And she finds herself staring, standing in a suit and basked in the lights of the city view, he’s never seemed so serious. 

“Whaddaya think? Why'd he give it all up?” He asks after a moment and she blinks, brain still foggy. 

“Who?” 

"Yorinobu Arasaka. The good life, I mean. Old news, I know. Just got to thinkin's all. It's like, think… You got everything, right? Eddies, education. Your pops can snap his fingers and turn half the fuckin’ planet into a nuclear wasteland… But instead you're like, ‘Nah, fuck it,’ and whaddaya go do? Start a fuckin' gang! Steel Dragons or some shit! You ghost from your fam, chip some RealSkinn and play gang leader for a few years. For what?!” 

She can sense the frustration in every word, feel it every clench of his fingers or swing of his hands. Someone like Yorinobu was handed everything he could ever want; tried to piss it away to play edgerunner, then found himself sucking the silver spoon once again.  But, she can’t blame him for wanting out from under his father’s thumb; that alone a feeling she knows too well. Her fingers hover over her wrist, the still branded flesh that Vik saved. 

“Maybe...he just wanted out of the system.” 

“So then why’d he come back.” 

“Tough to ditch the system when the system’s your own family,” V admits, finger still on the mark. 

“Black sheep’s still a sheep, eh?” 

“Maybe…” 

It took her forever to get the nerve to leave, she talked about it constantly, but it wasn’t until her mother’s death, murder, culling. Whatever she’s meant to call it, that she finally was pushed to make that move. Been gone for years now, but… more days than she cares to admit were spent wondering if she ever should have run, if she should crawl back and beg. If a family that hates her is better than no family at all… 

“Crawled back on all fours, tail between his legs, fuckin’ cheap ass rebel. Fuckin’ tourist!” 

Her nails dig into her skin; insecurities brimming, fear that maybe she’s just as much a fuckin’ tourist. Some black sheep nomad who’ll go running back to her dad, beg for another chance, playing pretend merc when all she’ll ever be is the family burden. 

“Tourist or not, he just walked into the lobby. And we are back in biz. Penthouse security is neutralized.”

“Perfecto, let’s start this show.”

And with those words, they’re back in business, the younger merc up on her feet. V grabbing her jacket and following Jackie out of the suite, fiddling with the fabric as she walks, heels clicking across the floor. 

“Hey, Bug…” Jackie says after a beat of silence,  “were, uh… were you on comms that whole time?”

“Three and a half hours.”

“Eehh… about that stick up the ass…”

“Mean the one up mine?”

“Ehh, slip of the tongue, y'know…”

“I know. Now's your chance to make up to me,” T-Bug tells him as they reach the elevator, Jackie pressing the button. 

“This is going pretty smooth right,” he turns to V as they wait, “right?” 

“Really are a silver lining type, ain’t ya?” V teases as the doors open and they step into the elevator. 

“Hey, when are you gonna wave off that dark cloud hanging over your head? Tellin’ you, it’s downhill from on in.” 

She rolls her eyes and hits the button to the penthouse, elevator doors closing and the carriage rumbling, shaking as it ascends. Silence falling over them, only the sound of the elevator. Jackie’s leg shakes and she knows that silence is about to end. 

“Ahh, there's the awkward silence. You, uh, wanna hear a joke?”

“Now? Seriously?”

“OK, so why'd the rockerboy's output kick him out of the apartment? ‘Cause he wasn't chippin' in.” Jackie cackles at his own joke and V rolls her eyes, a slight smile on her lips. 

“Jesus Christ…” 

Bug sounds a moment away from killing him, but thankfully for the older merc’s sake, the elevator comes to a stop. Doors opening up to Yorinobu’s suite. It feel different, seeing it from her own perspective instead of Evelyn’s and outside of a braindance editor. The entire suit feels bigger. A part of her wonders if it’s the height difference between herself and Evelyn, but decides to chalk it up to braindance shit instead. 

“Huh… not bad bein' heir to the Arasaka empire. Sure as shit better'n bein' the son of Raúl Welles,” Jackie comments taking in the room. 

V turns the corner through the room and a tank catches her eye. A slightly red light illuminating an iguana. It immediately reminds her of the only other iguana she knows, Manny. Come to think of it, his original crate was from Arasaka? 

“Hey, Jackie, look!” 

“Whoa, another fuckin’ iguana, not as cute as Manny though.” 

“Manny’s original crate was marked Arasaka; think he might’ve been Yorinobu’s before we klepped him?” 

“Think we stole his iguana and made him get a new one?” 

“Maybe?”  She gently taps the tank glass, watching the iguana’s tail flick back and forth. 

“Guys! Focus! The safe! And make it quick!” Bug yells out, bringing the merc’s back down to earth. V tosses her jacket onto one of the seats in the center, searching around the penthouse. Rain patters outside the windowed walls. They know where the safe is, but how do they get it out of the floor?

“Why, what's the rush?”

“Sig on Yorinobu's gone dark!”

“What is he, a fuckin' sorcerer?”

“Some kinda dead zone's my guess - have him back in a sec. And you do your damn job! Look around for a switch.”

V walks around one of the dividers where Yorinobu’s bed is, the slick metal of a gun catching her eye first and foremost. Black and gray, with purple detailing. She checks it for ammo and finds it loaded then decides it’s hers. 

“Looks like Yori left us a little gift,” she laughs, tucking the iron in her waistband. And on the other side of the bed, she finds a little switch. She presses it. 

“Bingo, got somethin' ejectin’! C'mere, V!” Jackie calls her over to the corner of the room, heart pounding in her chest.

They’re so close to the finish line, each click of her heels feeling like a step closer. This could actually work. A large black safe has risen out of the floor, a small jack in port and two red lights. Jackie stands on one side of it, the gray rainy day behind him. 

“What now, Bug?” 

“Jack in your personal and make us rich.” 

V plugs her personal link in, leaning one hand against the safe. Jackie leans against it from the other side, foreheads nearly touch as they wait for Bug to work her magic. Just get the chip and walk out, that’s all that’s left. All they need to do. She can’t stand still, itching to cross the finish line, minutes away from the major leagues. 

“Gimme two…”

The merc’s interface shows Bug uploading the daemons to crack the case and V watches the number rise. Sixty percent, seventy, seventy-five; each ticking number another shaky breath, a rising beat of her heart, and a chill up her spine. Homestretch, nearly there. 

And there’s a hum, V’s focus drawn away from the rising percentage, to the windows. Flying AV whirring through the gray skies, hovering around. She looks to Jackie, hoping somehow he’ll have an explanation, something to help her ignore the way her stomach is starting to drop. 

“We got winged visitors… Bug…?” There’s catch in his voice, nerves. Jackie’s scared and she swallows the lump in her throat. His face illuminated in the red flashing lights of the case, mean reds, the words flash in V’s mind. 

“Dunno who. But staffs abuzz, all two hundred on their feet, can't keep still…” 

Somethings wrong, the hair on the back of her neck stands up, a chill in her she can’t shake. Something is so fucking wrong. 

“Can't say I like this, how much longer, T?!”

“Shit. Yorinobu's penthouse bound!”

“What!?”V’s voice cracks, digging her nails into the safe, they’re fucked. They’re so fucked. 

“Fuck him!” Jackie slams his hand down, rattling the container, “Open the safe!” 

“Almost got it… Done!”  The safe opens, revealing a cryo-container within. Bright white light and a fog of ice cold air coming with it. V rips her personal jack out. 

“Preem, lets get the fuck out of here!”  

“Lemme look to this, eh?” Jackie says, pulling the container out and looking at the little screens across it. 

“Relic intact?” 

"Bioshard integrity - one hundred percent." Guessin' that's a yes,” Jackie reads off the vitals of the shard, picking up the case. 

“Good,  let’s delta.” 

The pair nearly trip through the center of the penthouse, rushing towards the elevator with Jackie lugging behind the giant cryo-container. So close, so close, so fucking close. An elevator and taxi ride away, then they’ll be at The Afterlife counting their eddies. The homestretch. 

“Fuck, too late!” T-Bug yells before V can hit the elevator button, “Yorinobu's about to walk in - find cover!

“Where in the fuck!?” V swings her hands as she yells, they’re so fucking close. She rakes her nails across her face, leaving red angry marks down her skin. 

“That pillar- try that!” 

“You fuckin' kiddin'?!” Jackie screams as the mercs make a move to the pillar in the center of the penthouse, were she thought servers for the room were kept. The back of it opening up and allowing a tight passageway. 

“No! Inside it! Now!” 

V slips inside as quickly as she can, Jackie following suit. He holds the cry-container close to his chest. The glass barrier is one way, they can see out, but it can’t be seen in. Still not ideal cover, ideally they’d be outside of the fucking hotel by now. The merc presses her hands to the glass, cursing under her breath. 

“We’re in,” she whispers to Bug.

“Which don't solve our problem, T.”

“I fuckin' know our problem's still there! Lemme think for a sec, okay?” 

The lights to the penthouse come on, elevator doors opening as Yorinobu strides in. with mechanical monstrosity of a body guard from the BD taking large whirring steps after him. And he seems even bigger now. He’s a cyber giant, one mech hand larger than  any part of V. 

He’s outlined in red, his eyes staring straight at her,  Vik said her new contacts would highlight if enemies saw her.. No, there’s no possible way. The man has barely set a borged-out foot into the room. She meets his gaze head on, swallowing the lump in her throat as she tries to seem braver than she is. On the off chance he may truly know the mercs are there. 

“Is that… Is that Adam Smasher?” Jackie whispers and V trusts him to look at her hands  as she signs, not wanting to break eye contact with the robotic monstrosity, refusing to show weakness.

“Bodyguard?” 

“Worse,” her trust in her friend is well placed, “Night City legend. Bleak motherfuckin' one, too. What's the plan?”

“We stay quiet and we wait.” 

A flash of movement makes V finally break the stare down, Yorinobu walks to the middle of the room and stops at the seat across from the table, black fabric strewn across it. He picks it up, regarding it for a moment and her heart drops into her stomach. 

V’s jacket. She left her fucking jacket on his chair, like an idiot, she didn’t even have time to consider grabbing it. They’re going to die because she left her fucking jacket out in the open and Adam Smasher is still staring at her. 

She half expects Yorinobu to call a sweep of the room, ring security, that he’ll realize the random jacket must be an intruder. But he shakes his head, tosses it aside onto the floor, not giving it another thought. While his body guard Smasher lingers in the corner, robotic eyes staring straight at V, watching the mercs squirm. 

“Are they here yet?” Yorinobu asks out loud. 

“They approach from the landing pad,” an AI voice responds. 

“Fuck are they talking about?” V resists the urge to elbow Jackie, silence has never been more important. One sound too loud and a borged out psycho will rip their heads off. And if her contacts are right, Smasher may just be waiting for the perfect opportunity. 

“Nuh-uh, no fucking way…. This isn't happening…!” T-Bug whispers over comms and V sees someone coming down the spiraling stairs, a guard it seems, with another older man following him, “Saburo Arasaka.” 

The second man is older, much older than the first. Balding with gray hairs and liver spots across his scalp, glasses perched high upon his nose. Dressed in a mixture of yukata robes over what seems to be slacks and loafers he takes slow measured steps down the stairs. The head capitalist himself, owner of Arasaka. 

“The emperor? Yet another asslickin' legend….” 

V taps Jackie’s side and puts her finger to her lips, encouraging him to be quiet. The man who led Saburo in starts to walk around the room. He’s older than V or Jackie, but nowhere near Saburo’s age. Long graying dark hair pulled back in a bun, cyberware across his neck coming out from under his black suit. 

“I thought I told you not to meddle in my affairs,” Yorinobu speaks in his native tongue, V’s contacts translating and subtitling to English. 

“Oh fuck,” Jackie curses as the long haired guard comes to stand in front of them, silver ringed brown eyes starting to scan them. 

“Leave us,” Saburo orders and the guard stops scanning, turning to face the corporate leader. 

“Arasaka-sama, I still haven't done a full sweep.” The guard turns his back and V can see where part of his hair is shaved, allowing intense cyberware extending beyond his neck and towards his scalp. 

“This is my son.”

“Of course. Should I retrieve what we come here to-” 

“I will handle it. You may go.”

The long haired guard bows and goes to leave the room, finally Adam Smasher’s gaze on her drops, as the borged freak leaves with the guard through the elevator doors. If they’re here to retrieve something… it’s likely the biochip, which means if they go to get it and see it’s gone… They’re fucked. They’re straight fucked. 

“Un-fucking-believable… Saburo Arasaka.” That comment makes V nudge Jackie with her foot, once again begging him to just stay quiet. 

“Did you think I wouldn't know it was taken from me?” Saburo asks his son, barely making eye contact as Yorinobu looks through a datapad. 

“Actually, I don't think of you at all. Ever. You see, that's your problem. You think the world revolves around you. Arrogant.” 

“Yorinobu.” 

“Why did you come? To humiliate me? To personally see to it that your son knows his place?”

“"The nail that protrudes from the wall gets hammered…"

“Couldn't think of anything original to say?” Yorinobu yells in exasperation, standing up and pacing around the room.  He’s on edge, looking ready to jump out of his skin and V can’t say she has a good feeling about any of this. 

“And do you think it ‘original’ to sell our greatest achievement to Westerners - our future to these… barbarians?!”

It’s definitely the biochip Saburo is after, they’re screwed, monumentally screwed. V would laugh if she didn’t feel like dying, of course, of course it all goes to shit. 

“Our future? Ours?! You are mistaken. You've only ever cared about yourself… and your sick schemes.” Yorinobu points and swings his limbs, still pacing, every word coiled tight with barely restrained hatred. 

“I knew this day would come. That sooner or later your impudence would cross the line,” Saburo is calmer, measured, taking soft steps towards his son, “There is much for which I could forgive you, but for treason - no.” 

The two men, father and son now stand in front of the pillar before an audience they don’t know. Stares trained on each other, each hateful, but one furious in it’s spite and the other calm in it’s contempt. Moments pass, no word said, each waiting for the other to light a fuse that will set off the powder keg. 

“I'm just glad your mother didn't live to see this. The heart should break but once.” 

And it goes off. Saburo’s words are punctuated by Yorinobu’s hands wrapping tightly around the old man’s throat. Yorinobu slams his father back against the pillar, cracking the glass in front of Jackie and busting open Saburo’s head. Blood streaking the shards. And he pulls away and for a moment, as Saburo clutches at his crushed windpipe, Yorinobu seems nearly regretful. 

“You shall never have to forgive me for anything again.” 

His hands wrap again, choking his father against the pillar. Until Saburo starts to fall limp, Yorinobu bringing him down onto the floor in a lifeless heap. Yorinobu stands over his father. Saburo is dead, killed before the merc’s very eyes at the hands of his own son. Jackie curses and V watches as Yorinobu paces, mind clearly racing before he stands over his father’s corpse again. 

“I wish… I wish to put the hotel on lockdown.” 

What does that mean? What the hell does that mean?

“May I ask why?” The AI secretary asks him. 

“Saburo Arasaka has been murdered.”

“Code red initiated. Attention! Code Red has been initiated throughout Konpeki Plaza. Please remain in your rooms and follow all instructions given by staff.”

Oh no, oh fuck no. The lights in the room drop, only bright neon red ones glowing angry in the dark. What the hell is going to happen? What the fuck do they do now? The elevator doors open, Smasher and the long haired guard walking in; the latter rushes and comes to a full stop when he sees Saburo’s corpse. 

“What happened?”

“Someone… someone poisoned my father.”

“Poisoned…?” 

“Seems so.” 

“Yorinobu-san… I doubt…”

Yorinobu glowers at the guard, pushing into his personal space, trying to intimdate him. Trying to make him stop questioning what happened, trying to stop him from looking any closer. Anyone who gets a good look at Saburo’s corpse will see the fingerprints around his neck. 

“What is your job, Takemura?”

“I don't follow.”

“It's a simple question. Answer it.”

“To protect the head of the Arasaka family.”

“I do sincerely hope you'll do a better job of executing your duties from now on…”

“Forgive me, Arasaka-sama,” the guard drops his head in shame, “I shall not disappoint.” 

Yorinobu turns to leave the suite. The guard, Takemura, follows close behind. And the still red highlighted Smasher follows behind him. The elevator doors close behind them. Jackie and V left alone in the suite again. But what the fuck just happened? 

“What the fuck just happened in there?” T-Bug asks, exactly what’s rattling around V’s skull as the pillar back opens again. Jackie and V clambering out. 

“Yorinobu just killed Saburo, he fucking choked out his own dad, I didn’t even know you could do that!” V rambles and yells as she turns the corner of the pillar, looking down at Saburo’s corpse. She quickly checks his pockets, stealing some cash and a pair of dog tags off of him. 

“What?” 

“His own fuckin’ pops.” 

“Know what this means?l Security's gonna swarm the place any second. Oh my god, we're so fucked!”

“We need to get the fuck out of here, now!” They can’t just go out the elevator, they’d meet security on the way. They’re beyond fucked. Why the hell did they take this stupid fucking job!?

“Gimme a sec!”

There’s the helipad, but it’s not like they have anything that fucking flies. Think, think, think; she screams in her head to just fucking think, there has to be something, anything. 

“We don't have a sec!”

“Okay, got somethin'! Window - now! Releasing the lock! Should see a ladder… Ladder…” 

V sees an opening in the large windowed walls, double doors practically made of glass they goes onto the ledge. This has to be in, T-Bug can undo the lock and they’ll slip out. 

“Oh fuck.” T-Bugs voice drops and a chill shoots up V’s back, something is wrong. 

“Bug!?” 

“No, no, no, no - not now…! I’ve been made… “ 

And panic turns to agony as T-Bug screams, a shrill cry of pain then she’s gone. Connectuon cut and V freezes in place. 

Bug is gone, just gone… 

Maybe, Konpeki just cut their comms? But the scream rings through V’s mind. She’s heard of how runner’s can die, daemons and quick hacks. Having their entire brain fried, every nerve and neuron set on fire, burned from the inside out... And all that's left to find is a simmering corpse stewing in their own filth. Bug was never meant for that, meant to retire, meant to find peace after years of netrunning. But now… 

“Bug.!? Bug!? Can you fuckin’ hear me, Bug please, are you there!?” V calls out, words slurring together. She just needs to hear Bug one more time, and know everything is okay. 

And nothing. 

“¡Pinche Dios Santo bendito! We lost her, V!” 

“They...scorched her...didn’t they…?” 

“We… we gotta go, V,” Jackie says, voice cracking as he smacks at V’s shoulder. 

Bug’s final hack going through, the window unlocked. V steps out through the window onto the ledge, rain pelting her skin as she rushes around the corner. Bug said there’s a ladder they can use, last thing Bug ever said… There’s no time for mourning, no time to cry, they need to get through this. The ledge narrows around the corner, ride lights outside the hotel window guiding the way, secured against the steel of the hotel. V sees the yellow safety ladder. The merc presses her back to the building, gently side stepping across the narrow ledge, if they just reach the ladder. One wrong step and they’ll plummet. 

“You can do it, Jackie… just don't look down,” jackie tries to talk himself up, following V, “ Yep, that's fuckin' high…!”

There’s a whir of engines, an aircraft vehicle buzzing around the outside of the hotel.

“Shit! That Trauma?” Jackie asks and that’s exactly what they need right now, doctors shooting them. 

“If they’re here for Saburo, they’re a little late.” 

“Just hope they didn't see us! ¡Chingada madre!”

The aircraft carrier flies in close, flashing blinding white light onto the mercs. It sees them, definitely sees them. 

“Suspects in violation of security protocols.” The mechanical voice croaks out. 

“Time to bail!’ Jackie screams and the aircraft starts to fire, drone automated shooting at them. 

The glass around them bursts and V jumps, grabbing Jackie’s hand in her left, she swings her right blade out towards the ladder. It hooks in the bottom rung, creaking in distress as it stops their fall. And there the mercs hang, suspended by a single Mantis Blade and a ladder rung; rain pouring down upon them and a drone still searching for them through the debris. The strain pulls at V’s arm, pain shooting throughout, shoulders ache and left arm pulled tight trying to hold Jackie and the case he holds in his other hand. 

If she could pull them up with the blade, maybe they can get to safety. But her muscles already strain, wrought tight with the strength it takes to hold them up. The blade pulling at the inner tissue it’s attached too, never meant to support more weight than the person it’s attached to. Rain and tears sting her eyes as she forces herself to pull with the blade, use it to lift them up. 

“V! I can’t hold on!’ Jackie yells out, rain slick hand starting to slip from her own. She digs her nails into his skin, holding him tighter. 

“Just a bit more, I can do this!” 

Her throat is raw and she doesn’t know how much she believes her own words. Nerves scream in pain as her cyberware pulls at what’s left of her flesh. Muscles cry as forced beyond their capability. She curses beneath her breath, pulling them just a little further up. Immeasurable pain and brute force of will only amounting to the tiniest bit of progress, not even an inch closer to safety. Her blade is pulling further out from her skin, raising up from her arm in a way she knows it shouldn’t. 

Every nerve in her arms on fire; blade tugging at flesh and the other nearly pulled from socket under Jackie’s weight. Barely an inch closer to the safety, Jackie slipping from her grip quicker than she can pull, blade lifting from her arm quicker than she can move them. Her teeth sinks into the inside of her cheek, hard enough to bleed as she pushes herself further. Closer, closer, she urges herself. 

A bright white light shines across them, illuminating them in the gray night, adding another ache to her eyes. Drone marked Arasaka buzzing around, refinding them within the debris of the destroyed hotel wall. The robotic voice speaking again. 

“Violators found.” 

And her blade breaks, V’s eye blown wide as they begin to plummet, shock blurs her pain and deafens the world.  Slowing it for a moment, only able to stare as metal snaps, tissue tears, and her arm is ripped open. Cyberware tearing out tissue and nerves, viscera left behind. 

Then she hits glass, shattering it as gravity slams her through and shock becomes hurt. She hits metal, body bouncing from impact, crying as the air is knocked from her lungs. Her head bashing against something. V clutches her arm, the pain it hitting her as everything else does, blood sticking to her fingers. Each breath hurts, a labored wheeze as bruised lungs strain to work. 

V blinks, sitting up slightly, regaining her sense of self now that her fall is broken. Across from her is Jackie and the cryo-case. She looks at her arm, A solid rip from wrist to near elbow, nearly an open hole, metal and moving inner parts of the cyberware mixed with gore. It doesn’t bleed as much as she'd expect, the internal mechanics helping block major bleed out. It hurts, metal now working against raw nerves. But, she’ll live… if this is the worst that happens, she’ll live.

The cryo-case is dented, part of it sparking and part of it splatted with blood. But her eye is drawn to Jackie. A tear in his gut, shrapnel and glass caught him well, bleeding more than her. The white of the button up around his stomach turned scarlet. 

“The Relic! ¡Madres! Agh… Oh, this ain't good. Agh…” Jackie curses, each breath pained. 

“Jackie, you’re hurt!” 

“Worry about me later,” he growls, “check the relic… "Container depressurized. Biochip integrity at ninety-four percent." And fuckin' droppin'! Carajo! Parker! Call her!”

“And tell her what!? We fucked up!?” 

“Just do it!”

Evelyn answers after a short ring, her avatar coming across V’s contacts. 

“V?! Konpeki's all over the feeds! What the fuck's going on there?”

“Got a problem! Cryo-case is damaged. Biochip's integrity at… Jackie?”

“Eighty-six percent!”

“Eighty-six percent and droppin'!”

“Shit…! OK, listen to me. There's only one thing you can do. One of you's gotta slot the Relic into your neural port!”

“That sounds really dangerous!” 

God only knows how this biochip could fuck them up, the relic itself is like putting another personality in your head, seeing ghosts. If this one is even half as fucked up as that, they could be putting themselves in serious danger. 

“The longer you wait, the greater the risk we lose it!” 

“Well, someone’s got to do it,” Jackie says, voice a rasp, face steadily draining color as he opens the case, “In the name of the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit - Amen.”

Jackie crosses his body with the pray and pushes the chip into his neural port and V watches his eyes light up for a moment. And he’s quiet for another, a second too long.

“You okay?” 

“Dunno… I guess… Don't feel any different.”

“Once you're back, we'll take out the Relic and run a full brain scan and sweep. But you two need to get the fuck out of there first!”

“We’re working on it!” 

Jackie and V get back on their feet. He holds his hand to his stomach, trying to press his guts together and she keeps her arm held close to her chest, not putting pressure on it. Jackie calls Delamain. 

“Del, we'll be there in a couple. Be ready, got it?”

“Certainly, Mr. Welles.”

“Better be fuckin' certain.”

“We gotta somehow… reach the lobby. Only chance to hit the garage. And we'd best be quick,” Jackie jabs himself with an air hypo, “ Oh-ho, that's the shit… Great… Now let's get outta here.”

“Wait, take your jacket off, use it to keep pressure on your gut, okay? Should help with the bleeding.” 

It’s minimal first aid knowledge, she knows. Hold something to a wound to keep it from bleeding out as quickly. But it’s all she can offer, helping Jackie get the jacket off with one hand, so he can press it to his stomach wound. She can move her right hand somewhat, but it hurts and she swears she can see the tendons moving around the metal in the gaping wound her forearm has become. She catches herself wondering if she’ll be able to sign with her right hand again. But, there’s no time for those fears. 

She walks down the red lit metal grate, heels nearly catching in it as she turns to a doorway. V leads the way, less injured than Jackie, she pushes the door open. A door lobby with glass banisters and plants, the only light the bright red ones. 

“Great… Now let's get outta here,” Jackie says, each word a stressful choking sound to get out. 

An AI voice speaks repeatedly over the speakers that Konpeki plaza is in code red, as the mercs work to move quickly and quietly. Catching the murmuring of two guards as they reach a marble staircase, speaking of sweeping the floors and checking the lobby. They creep around the corner and past a desk, seeing the back of the men’s through the glass banister. The only sound the pounding of V’s heart and Jackie’s labored breathing. They watch as the two men separate, enough space for each to grab one. 

They move down the last stretch of the stairs, guards talking about evacuating Yorinobu. She lets Jackie take the one closest to them as she moves further to the one at the doorway. V swings her left blade, now her only one, through the man’s gut. Her right arm shoots pain through each nerve, metal inside churching to dispense a blade that no longer exists. She holds back a sound, Jackie’s already choked out the other guard, checking for pockets. Each one armed with a silenced gun. She steals ammo off of them.

They come to another door, each catching their breath. Sweat clinging to V’s brow as they brace themselves for what’s to come next. 

“Careful… security likely to be swarmin' outside,” Jackie warns and V nods, words clumping together in her throat as she opens the door. 

They stay crouched, spotting more guards as they go. The pair hide behind a planter, V taking a scan of the area, spotting a security camera. Remembering Bug’s lessons, she’s quickly able to shut them off. She’s the one to step back out, leading the way for the first time in months of working together. V needs to get Jackie through this, he’s holding on now, but.. 

She grabs a guard from behind and snaps their neck, arm twinging in agony at the movement she throws their body aside, clearing a long stretch of hallway for Jackie to follow her down. All light bright red and screens that once showed commercials now flash the words, Code Red. She leaves Jackie to stay hidden behind a counter when she sees another by the doorway, jumping at his back and dropping him just like his coworker.  

“Ain't doin' too bad… Just a little further…” Jackie whispers as she drops another guy, her arm screaming at her to stop. But she’ll survive without an arm, if worse comes to worse, she can’t let Jackie get hurt any worse. 

They creep through a door, past a desk, hearing a guard yelling out as they sneak and weave through the room. She watches over the top of a planter as the guard walks past them, none the wiser as V creeps around, getting behind him, and taking him down. She can’t risk leaving any behind, leaving one alive and them finding the mercs later. The hotel is huge, a labyrinth of Arasaka guards. 

“Engaging hostiles!” A voice booms out, the mercs spotted by a heavily armed Arasaka guard who nearly trips over V.

Fuck, fuck, so much for stealth. Jackie shoots over a counter, trying to stay somewhat protected from the gunfire, while V takes lead, firing Yorinobu’s gun at the men, only dropping behind cover to reload, she blasts. Fuck it, stealth not an option, she’ll turn the whole damn hotel into a blood bath. 

The guards drop and V knows she’s been shot, but she’s standing so she moves onward. Through a doorway, three more men open fire as the mercs turn the corner. V blasts a bullet through ones head, Jackie blows the second full of holes. 

“One more fucker dead!” 

The third is further back behind a glass door and V charges forward, glass open as she fires at the man. Bullets ripping through his chest in a spray of blood before he collapses, red smeared across the marble. If she gets a chance to sleep tonight, she’ll be seeing red in her dreams. The vivid neon lights of the emergency lit hotel, the burgundy uniforms, and the steady spray of it from every shot fired. 

Jackie and V go running around a corner, through another glass doorway and slide into side of a marble planter. Taking a moment to breathe, she can hear guards talking. Orders from higher up, panicked yells from the less experienced. She can spot two around the corner, but can’t get a clear shot. She runs to the open doorway, catching one off guard as she slams into his view and rips a blade through his gut. 

A full armored worker fires off when he sees it, partially hidden by a linen rack. Another runs in, half hiding behind a planter, firing off around the corner. She presses against a wall between it and a partial doorway, reloading before she looks back through. The less armored man moves around a pillar, peeking from behind cover, and she shoots his head as soon as she sees it, watching him hit the marble. 

She struggles to get a clear shot of the third, still hidden behind the rack and so she runs forward, past the rack and coming to a sliding stop behind him. The guard fumbles to swing around when he realizes where she’s landed. Back turned to Jackie now, her friend fires a shot clean through the guard’s head. 

The room is cleared for a moment and the elevator is nearby, she runs past a desk, when she sees the button screen. A glowing red off symbol. 

“Fuck!” 

“Chingo tu madre! It's shut down! What about the other one?” Jackie yells between rattling breaths, she wanted this to be stealthy, didn’t want to put him anymore danger. 

She runs, heels clicking against blood streaked marble, nearly tripping over a corpse. Quickly trying to stop herself when another guard springs up behind a desk. Two more swarming the room, one in the heavy almost samurai-like Arasaka armor. 

“Orale! Got to plough through them!” 

She focuses on the Saka samurai, pulling the trigger again and again,  Thankful to have emptied the ammo off every body she’s dropped so far. A bullet catches his throat, a gush of blood as he paints the floor,  and she shifts to the other men. A headshot on one, the other already down thanks to Jackie. 

V searches their corpses, pocketing ammo and bounce backs, when she finds an access token on the samurai. V thanks any god that may be listening, if they exist and makes a beeline for the elevator at the end of the room. 

“Got access,” she breathes out, calling the elevator. 

Its doors open and she steps in, the side railing lit that bright red. She waits as Jackie rushes in, he’s still in somewhat decent shape it seems. Not the ideal heist, she thinks as she hits the button, but maybe they can get out of this. Rush Jackie to a ripper, check on T-Bug, collect their eddies, and tonight will be a story to tell later. Remember the Konpeki Heist, how everything that could go wrong did. 

“Hah-… agh! Heh, hng…” She can’t tell if he’s laughing or groaning in pain, maybe both. Blood is coating his hands, has he bled through the jacket? No, Jackie’s bulletproof, said it himself a billion times. He’ll be okay, he has to be. 

“Jackie…”

“Saburo Arasaka, Hundred and fifty years… and today… of all fuckin' days. That's like… some divine comedy shit… hehehehe… agh.”

And he’s laughing, of course he is, holding his guts together and he laughs, because why would Jackie Welles do anything else. She’s not sure if she’s going to cry or laugh along, if she’s charmed or infuriated by it; is he just still desperately searching for that silver lining or does he genuinely not give a fuck if he flatlines? That idea, the thought, makes her throat tighten. He can’t die, he won’t die, she won’t let him. 

“Save your strength, please, we’re not out of the woods yet.” 

“What do you think I’m doing!?” She doesn’t miss the frustration, because if he wasn’t so hurt, he’d been the one leading that battle, charging in to take brunt of it all, “Buuut… chill, V. We'll get out alive.” 

“I know we will,” she says and wants so desperately to believe.

The elevator reaches the lobby, doors open to more guards, more gunfire. She shoots at one that looks out behind a wall, three more in the main room of the lobby. Jackie slides behind a desk, using it for cover between shots. V takes lead, shooting from around a doorway. Its chaos and mayhem, V blasting the four men. One dropping behind a chair, catching one through the green ferns growing from a planter.  Three more Arasaka corpses, splattering blood across marble and the roots of those towering trees. Bullet after bullet, shot after shot, until her ears are ringing and three remain; the mercs and one last guard. 

He throws a grenade across the room at them, V shooting it in the air before it can hit them, smoke and fire smoldering across the ceiling. She uses the chance to close the gap and blows his brains out at close range.  

Room cleared they rush through the rest of the lobby, finally reaching the elevator that will take them to the garage. V slams the button, calling the elevator. The door opens and she runs inside, expecting Jackie to run in after her. His steps are slowing and he leans against the wall for a moment instead, having to catch a second wind. He’s getting worse, but they’re in the homestretch, they can do this. They can do this, he stumbles through, leaning against the elevator wall. 

“Argh… I'm leakin' a little…” His voice a rasp. 

The elevator stops at the garage, so close to safety. Doors opening she can already hear the guards and the mercs step out, eye on them, its a swarm of Arasaka. Gunfire rings out alongside the screech of brakes. The Delamain taxis coming to a stop in the center of the garage, it’s doors flinging open. 

“I advise that you waste no time in entering the vehicle,” Delamain chirps at them, like this is a normal night. 

But she needs no prodding. V grabs Jackie’s hand and runs for the taxi, dragging him through the garage to the open doors. Rather than making him walk around, she shoves Jackie through her side on the right, letting him slide into the left seat before she jumps in; he needs the extra second of protection more than her.  The doors shut, bulletproof shields raising as they the taxi is blasted by the guards. They’re safe? Right?

“Welcome back. With Delamain, you leave your problems at the door….”

“DRIVE NOW!” 

And Delamain does just that, engines firing up as he rams through the garage door like it’s nothing. She leans forward on the two front seats. As the taxi takes a sharp turn, they’re almost there, almost safe. Jackie wasn’t fucking around about the combat mode. 

“Not bad at all.” 

“Client feedback noted.”

“How’s the ride looking?” 

“Tiptop. Though alas, we are being pursued.”

And then she sees him, Adam Smasher, the borged monster of a former man rushes them. No hesitation, no fear, as he slams his entire body into the car. Shattering glass, gnashing metal, and nearly sending the car to the side; slamming V and Jackie to the right. 

“Sweet fuckin’ jesus!” 

Jackie curses as V screams, the hell kind of freak is this guy? The car goes back down on its wheels. Adam Smasher on a metal knee, slowing standing up on front of the car. 

“Combat mode activated. Please remain calm.”

“Calm!!!????” She yells out as Delamain begins to drive backwards. 

 “Road block ahead. I kindly request that you brace for impact.”

“¡Oy, mis huevos! Shiiiit!”

The cab takes a turn, rather than driving through Adam Smasher, it goes through another roadway. A row of cars blocking the way and Delamain slams through through without hesitation, taking them through the Night City roads away from the hotel. Jackie is hunched over, bloody hands still pressing the jacket to his gut, the white shirt soaked through with it. 

“A hostile enemy aircraft has a lock on us.”

V doesn’t need a word more from the AI taxi, climbing halfway out of the window, she spots the drones flying after them. Three of them. Needing steadier aim, she flips off her hearing aids with a thought, steeling herself as the car weaves through the road and she fires at them. This is Arasaka’s last ditch effor to keep a lock on them, if she can get rid of them, they’re in the clear. 

Three shots; first drone goes down sparking as it hits the city streets. Two more kills the second, the metal remains slamming into a streetlamp. And the third goes down with a final shot, smoldering onto the roof of a  BD store. She turns her hearing aids back on as she slides into her seat again; they’re gone. 

“Hostile aircraft eliminated.”

“Nice work there… Del…”

She shifts to look at Jackie, he has one hand on his stomach, the other braced against the door. V grabs his shoulder with one hand and his leg with the other, practically shaking him. 

“We did it, Jackie! We made it!” 

“Heh...guess we did…” It’s not the triumphant excited Jackie, she’d expect to hear. His voice still rough, a rattle barely leaving his lungs. Her eyes sting, no, no. 

“My medical diagnostics indicate that Mr. Welles’ condition is critical.”

“Critical, what- take us to a fucking ripperdoc, now! Vik’s behind Misty’s shop!” 

She reaches to put pressure against the jacket over his wound, hand over his, but the fabric is bled all the way through. Blood sticking to her skin, warmer than Jackie’s skin and he’s looking pale, paler every second. He leans back against the chair, strength starting to leave his body. 

“Apologies, but that will not be possible. Our itinerary has been pre-arranged and paid for in advance. I am not at liberty to alter it.”

“Fuck your itinerary and fuck your liberty, just get us to goddamn doctor!” 

“It's OK, V… I'll hold out…” 

When did his nose start to bleed, when he did he start hacking up blood, red streaking down his nostrils and over his chin. She sucks in a shaky breath, eyes starting to water. No, not Jackie, anyone but him… please.  She doesn’t know who she’s begging; maybe god, maybe fate, maybe just anything in this world that will listen. 

“Yeah, yeah,” she chokes out, nodding, “you-you just got to hold on, okay? And, and, we’ll hit the major leagues. Only the best jobs, swimming in eddies, just like you always wanted.” 

She brings her forehead to his, feeling the cold sweat of his skin, hoping her warmth, touch, her words; anything will keep him alert. The tears flow freely now, wet and hot on her cheeks. 

“Mija...  you’re gonna be rich, I can feel it…” 

“No, we’re gonna be rich, Jackie! You and me, that’s how it’s always been, I-I can’t do it without you, y-you got to stay with me okay! We’ll get back, you can see Misty and your mom, everyone and let them know you made it.” 

“Misty… She knew… She always knew…” he breathes out, eyes glassy with a weak smile, “told me not to take this job, why she always got to be right?” 

“J-just a little longer, please, Jackie...please,” she begs him, like he can stop it. Like he can put his inside back together, stop the color from draining out of his face, and can just stay with her. 

“The biochip…” he holds her shoulder, grasp weak, and takes the chip from his head with the other, “Hold on to it. For me…”

And he slides it into her neuroport, her vision glitching for a moment. She surges forward, wrapping her arms as tightly as she can, burying his head into his chest, crying into him as she clings tightly; wishing she had the strength to just hold him together. 

“Please, please, Jackie, I can’t lose you, just a little longer, please,” she sobs into his ashen skin and blood soaked shirt, begging with every slowed beat of his heart. 

For a moment his hands graze her back and she waits for a bear hug, for him to squeeze the breath from her lungs and lift her from her seat like he’s done so many times. For him to be Jackie; her best friend, her partner in crimes, her brother, her everything. But his touch is faint, the space between each beat growing further and further. Until his hands fall limp, body slack in her arms, and she knows the next heartbeat will never come. 

And she sobs, she holds him and cries out her pain, if only for a moment. No more ‘chicas’, ‘jainas’, or the odd ‘mija’. No more smiles that outshine the sun. No more nagging her to look on the bright side. No more bear hugs or hands the size of her head ruffling through her hair. No more Jackie…. And it’s not fair and it’s not right. 

“Mr. Welles has passed. Where shall I take his remains?” A robotic voice asks and she realizes the car is no longer moving. 

She forces herself to let him go, one of the hardest things she’ll ever have to do. Pulling away, she sees him, truly lifeless. Bright green eyes now dull with no light behind them, limp hands falling away from her. 

“W-what?” She stumbles over the word, brain fogged over with grief. 

“The Excelsior package provides for the disposal of passenger remains free of charge. I merely require a destination.”

“I…he-he’d want to be with his family,” she stumbles across her words. 

“Mr. Welles' closest blood relative is Guadalupe Alejandra Welles, proprietress of the El Coyote Cojo bar. I will make sure to deliver him safely. Mr. DeShawn awaits you in room number two-oh-four. ” 

That’s right… Dex… The chip. The world didn’t stop spinning, only her’s. There’s still a job. And the idea of still going, that there’s a tomorrow beyond today, seems unfathomable. How the hell could she ever move on…  

Because Jackie would kill her if she didn’t and she knows that. He’d haunt her for a thousand years and kick her ass every day of it. She looks at the remains, her friend gone, now limp and bleeding across white leather. And knows if he could speak, he’d tell her to get her ass to that hotel room and finish this job, that he and Bug didn’t die just for V to bury herself alongside them. She squeezes his shoulder, presses her forehead to Jackie’s one last time, feeling the cold of his skin. 

“See ya in the major leagues, Jack…”

V opens the car door and steps out into the backlot behind the motel. Rain pours down across her bloodied skin, soaking her to the bones, a numb chill clinging to her. Painted across brick is the Night City emblem marks the wall, red graffiti altering its slogan.. The city of broken dreams… 

She moves, on autopilot as she makes her way up the stairs and to the back door of the motel, sheltered from the rain once she’s in a trash filled back room. The motel is bathed in the neon red lights, only offset by the white of sign bearing its name, it’s always red. She stumbles up the staircase and then  another, past a tv chattering on about Saburo Arasaka. 

The merc walks down the gloomy hallway, dark except for warm yellow floor lights, Graffiti covered walls, rain washing down the windows at the end of it. And she reaches room 204, her arm leaden as she knocks. 

No response. 

“Its V,” she yells out, knocking harder. 

The door opens but before she can take another step, Dex’s body guard takes a step out. Large hand blocking her from coming further. He checks the hallway, making sure she wasn’t followed. After a moment, he finally pulls away. 

“He waiting.” 

The man takes a step back, allowing V into the room. She pushes through a bead curtain and sees Dex, leaning over a TV screen, another cigar between his golden fingers. She clears her throat, hearing the door close behind her. 

“WNS… N54… Even the pirate networks… You blowin' up everywhere! And the Jackster? He out in the car?” 

“He’s...dead,” her voice breaks, words like thorns in her throat. Having to say it, having to hear it from her own lips… 

“Condolences friend,” he tells her, shifting to look at her rather than the tv, “and the relic?” 

“Here,” she says, voice a murmur as she taps her neural port. 

“Hmm, I was afraid of that…” 

“What?!” 

She got the fucking relic, everyone is fucking dead, but she got the relic! Everyone died for this fucking chip and now he’s disappointed that she has it!?

“Saburo Arasaka?” Dex paces, smoking his cigar, “Dead…?! You got any notion of the shit you pulled me into?! You offed the fuckin' emperor! His majesty! Anyone with so much as a pinky toe dipped in this mess is as good as dead!’

“I didn’t kill Saburo! I- I-” she stalls, wanting to say she didn’t do anything, but can she say that? Can she act like she didn’t fuck up any of this? Like she has no role in Jackie and Bug’s deaths… 

"No shit?l Tell that to the ‘Saka ninjas they send after you!”

“We...we got to leave the city.” 

Badlands isn’t the safest for her, but it will be safer with money, she could settle in another city, maybe. She can outrun her family more than Arasaka. 

“You don’t say.” 

“Call Parker, we close the deal, collect our eddies, and go off the radar.” 

“A’ight, settle down,” he sits down on the leather couch, “Gotta be tactical about this. Parker, eddies, then we leave the city limits behind. But first… Your face… got blood all over it. Bathroom's there. Go get yourself cleaned up.”

He points her to the bathroom of the motel and she nods, in no place to argue, she just wants to be on the other side of this mess. To be able to tell herself at least she made it to the major leagues, at least Jackie would be proud of her, even if he isn’t here to see it. 

V stumbles into the bathroom, legs wobbling. Everything should hurt, her arm ripped open. Bruises mottling every inch of flesh. But she’s… numb. She works on autopilot, only somewhat aware of the door shutting behind her as she grips the sink, streaking blood across the silver.

Her blood and Jackie’s. 

Bile rushes up her throat, stinging as she pukes into the sink, choking and gagging it out. The tears threaten to come again, eyes stinging as he nails dig into the sink. He’s gone, he’s really fucking gone. Her best friend, her brother in everything but blood and name, her rock, and world. The man who took her in, who gave her a goal, a life… 

And how’d she repay him? 

Watch him die in the back of a Delamain. All her promises to keep him safe, to repay back all the kindness he gave to her. And she couldn’t save him, couldn’t protect him, couldn’t do shit but hold him. Fuckin’ only time she really hugged him with all she had and she doesn’t even know if he could really feel it, if his body was too numb. 

If she would have refused the job. 

If she had gotten them up the ladder. 

If she had been stronger. 

If she had been stealthier.

If she had gotten them through the lobby quicker. 

If she could have convinced Delamain to get him to a doc.

If she knew better first aid. 

If….if… if… 

Thoughts spin and whirl through her mind, a thousand reasons why it’s her fault. Why she could have saved him, why she could have done more, why she failed him… 

Misty will never take Jackie’s last name and it’s V’s  fault. They’ll never have kids, they’ll never buy a home together, he’ll never get to take her to that stupid hotel bar with the annoying waiter. 

Senora Welles will be forced to bury her son and it’s V’s fault. She’ll never hold her son again. Never see him smile again. Never see him live out his dream. Never cook his favorite foods for him and nag him not to talk with his mouth full. 

Jackie had a future, a family, people who loved him. He was going to marry Misty one day, have kids. Get enough eddies to provide for them and his mom. And now there’s a hole in all of their lives. The world as a whole now worse off without him, her own world destroyed. It should have been her, she knows that, the world would be better off losing her than losing him. 

Yet here she is and she’s just supposed to keep moving, supposed to keep breathing, supposed to live a life post Jackie. 

When she looks up, she sees her own reflection staring back at her. Red rimmed eyes, swollen  from crying and blood splattered across her skin, stuck in the ends of her hair. And she doesn’t know where it’s from, if it’s her own, if it’s Jackie’s, or if it’s from the people she killed tonight. T-Bug and Jackie gone, yet she’s here. 

A brilliant talented netrunner is gone. But she’s still here. 

The kindest man to walk in Night City is gone. But she’s still here. 

She glares at herself, because she has no right to be here and the world has no right to be this cruel. Her fingers clenches, pulling at her damaged nerve endings and she slams her fist into the mirror. Glass shatters and crackles, shards splintering into her knuckles. 

V washes the blood from her hands and face, cleaner but still a zombie as she turns to the door. Jackie wanted this for her, one of the only people who ever wanted anything good for her. If only for him, she owes it to him to finish this job. She stumbles to the bathroom door and opens it, stepping out.

Knuckles collide with her head, wracking more pain through an already injured merc, she’s sent sprawling to the ground. She curses and twists around on the floor, not sure she has the energy to stand back up, vision blurring as Dex’s bodyguard stomps on her. Heavy foot colliding with her head. She curses and sputters choking on blood.  She twists onto her back, blinking through the pain as Dex’s bodyguard hands him a pistol. The fixer walks closer, standing over her.

“Can't risk it, V,” he says casually, leveling his gun with her head,” ‘Member our first convo?”

“I’ll fucking kill you!” She screams, spitting blood as she stares down the barrel. 

“Seems I've chosen the quiet life, after all. No blaze o' glory for me.” 

The shot rings out, loud and clear, the world going dark as a bullet rips through the young merc’s head. Blood splatters across the dirty carpet, her body going limp, a final breath gurgling forth as she chokes on her own blood, iron taste clinging in the back of her throat. 

Then she’s gone. 

[ev-pierce-writes]

Testing a Hypothesis

Pairing: Marcus Moreno (We Could Be Heroes) x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.3K

Warnings: teasing, spanking, oral (f receiving), edging, p in v, unprotected sex, gendered language

Note: something about the perversion of having sex with a children’s movie character really grinds my gears. enjoy.

If you could go back in time to figure out exactly what choices you had made to lead to this moment, it would be hard to pinpoint exactly where you'd gone wrong. And yet here you were, dialing the number of one of the earth's greatest heroes, the leader of the Heroics, Marcus Moreno.

There was nothing untoward about this call. The kids you nannied had insisted upon it, wanting to set up a sleepover with Missy Moreno. You stared down at the business card he'd given you and hesitated, thinking about the events that had transpired that day.

Earlier, you had been waiting in the carpool line for school to be released. The two kids you nannied, Annabelle and Anthony, were in sixth grade. You had been picking them up from school for years now and had gotten in the habit of getting there early and sitting in your car, taking a quiet moment to yourself before the chaos that consisted of taking care of twins ensued.

But you were jolted from your relaxation time by a bump on the back of your car. Had someone just rear-ended you? Here in the carpool line? Looking in your rearview mirror, you saw a large figure emerge from a black car behind you. Yep, he'd rear-ended you. Begrudgingly, you stepped out of your car as well.

"Seriously?" you said. "How do you even manage this when the speed limit is zero?"

Instantly, you regretted the obvious annoyance in your voice. The man heading toward you was distressed and already apologizing profusely. If he hadn't been so handsome, you might have continued to berate him, but the kindness of the man's eyes and his unruly hair stopped you in your tracks.

"Did I dent it?" the man asked with worry. Looking at your bumper, there wasn't even a scratch. He hadn't been going that fast anyway.

"No, the car's fine. Don't worry about it," you said.

"Are you okay?" he asked, looking worriedly into your face. "I didn't scare you or anything?"

"Really, it's fine. No harm done," you assured him.

The man looked back at your bumper, analyzing it just to be sure. "Let me give you my number anyway, just in case. I'll cover any damage." He pulled a card from his back pocket and scrawled his number on the back before handing it to you.

Glancing at the card, you noticed the name. Marcus Moreno. Wasn't that...?

"You're that superhero aren't you? With the Heroics?"

Marcus laughed nervously. "Yeah, that's me. Apparently, I can wield swords but I can't drive a car."

"Don't worry, we all have our weaknesses," you said, partly trying to ease his concern and partly trying to tease him as well. "Your kid goes to school here?"

"Sixth grade. They grow up so fast. What about yours?"

"Not mine, actually. Just the nanny."

"I thought you looked a bit young," Marcus said with a lopsided grin. Was he flirting with you? You watched as he leaned against his own car, mirroring your movements. Oh yeah, definitely flirting.

"The job got me through college," you admitted, trying to hint that you might be younger but you were certainly still old enough for him. "But I liked it so much I stayed. Now I can't get away."

You did love your job, however challenging it was. Somewhere inside the school, the final bell rang, and moments later, kids came flooding out. Soon, you spotted Annabelle and Anthony and you waved, letting them know where you were. They headed over, chatting and laughing with another little girl. As they approached, she called out to Marcus, and you realized it was his daughter. What a coincidence.

"How was your day?" you asked the twins.

"Fine," they answered in unison, a typical answer for them. "Bye Missy," Annabelle said. "See you Monday."

Marcus turned toward you and stuck out his hand.

"It was nice meeting you," he said. "I'll see you around. And call me if you need anything." Though he meant the car, you thought he'd probably left the invitation open on purpose.

So here you were, standing in the kitchen, staring down at the phone number written on the back of Marcus Moreno's business card. Funny, a superhero with a business card who picks his kid up from school and rear-ends people in the parking lot. Not exactly what you'd expected.

At last, you dialed. After a few rings, a familiar voice answered. "Marcus Moreno speaking."

"Hey, it's Y/N. From the carpool line."

Marcus sounded genuinely happy to hear from you. "Something up with the car?"

"No, actually, the car is still undamaged." You could hear him snicker softly on the other end. You went on. "The kids wanted to have a sleepover and insisted I call you. I know it's sort of last minute, but it is Friday, so I thought it might be okay."

"I guess we could make it work. Give me a second." The other end went silent for a moment before his melodious voice returned. "Their place or mine?"

"Oh, well... I hadn't thought that far. I actually have weekends off, so I'm headed out at six tonight. But their parents will be home. I'm sure they won't mind."

"Sounds good, see you later." The line clicked and Marcus disconnected. Okay, then.

When six rolled around, you packed up your purse, placed dinner on the table, and then headed out the door, saying goodbye to the twins. Annabelle and Anthony's mother was already home and you were able to sneak out without too much commotion. As you closed the door behind you, Marcus's car pulled into the driveway, and both he and Missy stepped out.

"See you later, Dad," Missy said, giving him a kiss on the cheek before running into the house. The two of you were now alone in the driveway.

"Hey again," Marcus said, looking you up and down with a smile.

"Thanks for avoiding my car this time," you said with a laugh.

"Alright, alright, I get it. I'm a bad driver."

"Your words not mine."

It was Marcus's turn to laugh. He turned back toward his car but paused a moment as if he wanted to say something. "Got any weekend plans?"

You shrugged. Was he trying to gauge your availability? "Probably a glass of wine on the couch with this week's crime documentary."

"Would you like some company with that glass of wine?" Marcus asked. Your assumption had been right. When you hesitated, Marcus noticed your reluctance. "I'm sorry, that was a bit forward. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't," you replied, reassuringly. Fuck it, you thought, better to spend the weekend with someone than alone, again. "I think I'd like that."

---

Marcus picked you up. He actually drove to your house and picked you up, like this was a date. You'd agreed to go to a bar nearby, and though it was close enough for you to walk, he'd insisted your house was on the way and that he would drive you. You weren't sure how true that was, but you weren't going to deny a free ride.

"Don't crash," you joked. Sure, maybe you were taking this whole bad driver thing a bit too far, but it eased the tension and you liked making Marcus laugh. When you arrived at the bar, he led you to a back table. You noticed he sat with his back to the wall and kept an eye on the front door, real superhero style.

"What would you like?" he asked. You ordered a vodka cran to his whiskey.

"I've never been here before," you mentioned as you waited for your drinks.

Marcus shrugged. "Yeah, most people here tend to be on the older side."

"Oh come one, you can't be that old," you teased. Could he be? Marcus looked a bit sheepish. Maybe he was.

"Not old but... I'll be 46 in the spring."

"Oh, shit," you said involuntarily. Marcus huffed as if to say 'thanks, like I didn't know.'

"Sorry, I didn't mean that. It's just that- well, you're old enough to be my father."

"You wanna walk home?" he said jokingly. He was starting to ease more into the conversation and you thought he may actually enjoy all the teasing.

"It just means you're mature," you explained.

"Mature is code for old."

"Mature means I can have a real conversation with you and not feel like I'm talking to a teenager." You paused. You wanted to say more but were unsure of what his reaction might be. Fuck it, he was flirting. You knew what he wanted, but more importantly, you knew what you wanted. "Mature also means better in bed."

At your words, Marcus leaned forward on his elbows, swirling the ice around in this glass. "And you know this? Or it's what you believe?"

You weren't expecting that reply. But you liked it. "Just a hypothesis."

Marcus leaned back again. He didn't say anything, but the look in his eyes told you he was processing what you'd just told him. So you moved on with the conversation, asking him about Missy, about life as a superhero, about life in general. He was open and honest, willing to talk about pretty much anything, though you purposely steered clear of talk about his dead wife. It was no secret that he'd been married before, but something about the mood of the conversation led you to believe he was trying to forget about her.

Though it felt like no time at all, you suddenly realized how tired you actually were. It had been a long day, taking care of kids and running errands. Glancing at your watch, you realized it was almost midnight.

Marcus noticed your movement. "Want me to take you home?"

You hesitated. You were enjoying yourself, but you weren't sure how much longer you could stand the noise of the bar. So in the end, you relented.

As you pulled up to your apartment building, you didn't know what to say. Would he walk you to your door? Did you have the guts to ask? But Marcus killed the engine and gave you your answer. The two of you stood in silence outside your door as you fumbled for your keys. You wanted to say something, but what was there to say? Thanks so much for a wonderful evening. Thanks for flirting with me. No, no it wasn't right.

You managed to get the door open. Now or never. "Do you-"

"I should let you get some sleep," Marcus said, beating you to it. Was this goodnight? But he didn't turn to leave.

For the third time that night, you threw caution to the wind. "Remember my hypothesis?"

Marcus smiled, though unsure where this was going. "Of course."

"There's only one way to test a hypothesis, right?" You hoped he would understand.

And oh boy, did he understand. In two large steps, he was in front of you, taking your face in his hands. God, his hands. They were calloused but gentle and they tangled in your hair and left a searing heat on the back of your neck and--

Fuck. You hadn't even realized your eyes were closed until Marcus spoke. His lips were so close to yours, you could almost taste him, but he wasn't kissing you. Why wasn't he kissing you? 

"We should go inside," he whispered. His voice was suddenly raspier than it had been all evening, and though it was more of a suggestion than a request, you moved obediently, stepping backward as he moved forward, guiding you into the apartment. He slammed the door shut with his foot, hands still behind your head, and then finally, god damn it, finally, he kissed you.

His lips were decadently soft. At first, Marcus was gentle, easing you into an eternal kiss. But you wanted more. You wanted to be closer. Your fingers found the belt loops on the waistband of his jeans and you tugged his hips toward yours. He got the message loud and clear.

His lips began to move against yours, hot and needy, his tongue entering your mouth as you gasped for air. One hand left your hair to wrap around your waist, his fingers curling under the fabric of your shirt to lay flat against the skin of your back. They slid up the curve of your spine to the clasp of your bra and suddenly you felt the snap of elastic release against your skin. Had he just undone your bra one-handed? You didn't even have your shirt off and already he was unraveling you with his fingers.

There was too much fabric between you two. Marcus hadn't even taken off his leather jacket yet. You reached up to his shoulders, ready to slide it off for him when suddenly he pulled away and grabbed your hands. You looked up at him confused, wondering if maybe he wasn't ready for this yet.

"What's wrong?" you asked.

Marcus was breathing heavy, eyes dark with lust. "You wanted someone mature, right? You want mature sex?"

The force behind his words sent your insides tumbling. All you could do was nod, hands still unable to move, imprisoned by his own.

"Okay," he said, his voice deep and husky. "Stop me if you're uncomfortable. Do you understand?"

Again, you nodded.

"You're allowed to speak," Marcus teased. "But you need to do as I say."

Oh, fuck. A heat was building between your thighs. What had you gotten yourself into? Slowly, Marcus released your hands from his grip. He took his leather jacket off, himself, and then took a step back, instructing you through your next movements.

"Take off your shirt," Marcus said. His words were soft yet commanding.

Marcus watched as you pulled your shirt over your head. Your bra, which was already undone, went along with it. The air of your apartment wasn't particularly cold, but the shock of sudden exposure left goosebumps on your burning hot skin. You felt your nipples harden under his intense gaze but he didn't reach out to touch you.

"Turn around and take off your pants. Slowly."

He was enjoying himself too much. How had this sweet man, who had treated you so kindly and simply craved the presence of another human, turned so hot and rugged, wanting to tease you with the pain of slowing down. He knew you wanted nothing more than to touch him. And yet he made you wait and watched as you squirmed under his command.

And however painful it was, you did as you were told, unbuttoning your pants, hooking your thumbs into the waistband, and pulling them down slowly, slowly, slowly. You weren't sure if it was what he wanted, but you dragged your underwear down with them, fully revealing the curve of your hips and the contour of your ass. You leaned forward to push your pants down your thighs and past your knees, giving Marcus a full view of your now wet and throbbing pussy, and you heard the audible intake of a breath behind you.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he said. Your breath hitched in your throat and your heart somehow beat faster than it already was. But it was nice to know you were having as much of an effect on him as he was on you.

Now fully naked, you stood, still turned away from him, unsure of what his next move might be. Without your attention on him, you finally noticed how dark it was in your apartment. You hadn't even turned on any lights, hadn't even moved out of the entryway. The only light came from the open curtains of your living room window where a street lamp cast an orange glow across the couch.

Suddenly, the sound of a slap and a sharp sting spread across the left cheek of your ass and you gasped. Did he just slap you on the butt? Holy shit. The warm tingle spread through your body and you nearly trembled at the feeling. Hold it together. You couldn't fall apart so soon.

Despite the slap, Marcus still held back from touching you, leaving you feeling exposed, nearly whimpering from the desire to be touched. Finally, he placed his hands on your shoulders and slid them down to your wrists, leaving fire in their wake. With one wrist in each hand, he folded your arms behind your back and held them there. The movement forced you to arch your back, thrusting your chest and hips out. It seemed a calculated move to provide him with more access to every curve of your body.

You could feel the heat of his body as he stepped closer, but it wasn't until he pressed his own body against your back that you noticed he was naked as well. With his free hand, he pulled your hair behind your ear to place hot, breathy kisses down your neck. Shivers ran down your spine and your legs trembled in desire. Your pussy was dripping with need, the moist heat beginning to drip down the inside of your thigh.

With all his teasing, a sudden thought popped into your head. You had to ask. He had said you could speak, right?

"Marcus?" You asked. He grunted in response, not moving his mouth from your neck but affirming that he was listening. It was getting hard to talk, but you continued anyway. "Do you- do you have super senses as well? Like hearing?"

"Baby, I can hear you breathe from a mile away."

Interesting. "So, what if I do this?" You turned your head toward his, still at your neck, placing your lips at his ear, and moaned softly. The hand gripping your arms tightened and a deep groan was thrust from Marcus's lips, sending his hot breath across your shoulder.

"You're teasing me now? Don't worry, for that little stunt I'll have you screaming so loud you won't need super senses to hear you from a mile away." Now it was your turn to groan in frustration. You strained against your captive arms, wanting to get at the man pressed behind you, but he was far too strong. At least he was finally touching you. His free hand slid across your stomach and up to your breasts, pinching and twisting each of your nipples until they were aching and tender. The moans he elicited from your mouth were no longer simply to tease; the pleasure was too much to contain. Suddenly, his fingers left your nipples and slid slowly south. You shook with anticipation as he crept towards the heat between your thighs. Gently, one finger teased the crease of your slit, working gradually toward the mound of your clit.

"Spread your legs," Marcus whispered into your ear. As soon as you did what you were told, his finger landed directly on your clit and you nearly jumped at the sensation. You wanted desperately to grab onto him, hold his hand in place, but you could do nothing more than moan in ecstasy as he worked lazily between your thighs. You were sure you could cum soon if he kept going, except he didn't. Marcus stopped, pulling his hand away, leaving you trembling and begging for more.

With a palm placed on the small of your back, he guided you forward, and you stumbled until you reached the couch. You thought he might sit you down, but instead, Marcus leaned you across the couch arm, face in the cushions, ass in the air. You still had no control over your arms, so you could do little about your situation.

"You want me to fuck you, baby?" You could feel Marcus pressed against your ass, his legs between yours, spreading them wider, his cock hard and ready. He was so close, so close to being inside you, and yet he wanted to tease you a bit longer. When your reply came only as a soft whimper from your lips, he leaned over you and ran a finger down your spine. "Answer me, baby."

"Yes, Marcus. Yes, fuck me please."

"Not yet."

Not yet? What did he mean not yet? You wanted to cry at how desperately you needed him inside you. Instead of giving you what you wanted, you suddenly felt his hot tongue dragging up your thigh. He moaned against your trembling skin, licking away the dripping heat that had spilled from your pussy. Slowly, he made his way to your core, taking his time to clean the inside of both of your thighs.

"Baby, you taste so good. You're such a good girl, all nice and wet for me." Good girl. Fuck. It felt so incredibly amazing, but it wasn't what you wanted, what you needed. You couldn't help yourself; you began to beg, beg for him to fuck you like he meant it, beg for him to bury himself inside you. He ignored your pleas and instead spread your pussy lips with his tongue, lapping up your juices like he was dying of thirst, holding your arms in place as you squirmed beneath him.

"That's it, baby girl, grind against my face." You didn't need to be told twice. The sensation was bringing you to the edge. The scruff on his face tickled against your thighs and you wanted desperately to clamp your legs down on his head, tip over the edge, and feel the release of your orgasm. But Marcus wouldn't let you. He held your legs open and continued his rampage as your gasps of pleasure escalated to moans.

"Marcus I- I'm gonna cum," you managed to say. But as soon as your words left your lips, you regretted them. Marcus pulled away, leaving your open and cold and teetering on the edge of ecstasy. You groaned in frustration again. "Please, Marcus, make me cum, I need to cum."

"I love hearing you beg," he said, placing kisses across your shoulder blades and down your back. You could feel him center his hips at your entrance, the tip of his cock just barely nudging into you. You tried to grind your hips against his, needing that sweet relief, but he held you in place with one hand. "I want to hear you scream my name."

He pulled back and then slammed into you, and you did. You screamed his name over and over, with every thrust, every time he hit your g-spot, every time he grunted and groaned with his own pleasure. You tried to press your face into the couch to mute the sound but he wouldn't let you, grabbing your hair in his free hand and pulling your head slightly back, so he could hear every delicious sound that fell from your lips. Your arms were still pinned behind your back, but it made the angle all the better. It wasn't long before his thrusts were pulling you back toward the edge, your walls clenching around his shaft. He felt the shift, felt your orgasm build in your core as he fucked you hard.

"Cum for me baby," he growled. "Be a good girl and cum, now." With his words and one final thrust, you did, shattering into a million pieces with the force of the orgasm that rocked your body. You screamed until your lungs gave out, until you could barely breathe. Though you hadn't been holding yourself up much, you fully collapsed now, the strength in your body gone. Marcus was still holding out, teetering on the edge as well but wanting to ride out every drop of your orgasm until nothing remained.

"Tell me where you want me to cum," he growled through his teeth, unable to hold on much longer.

You wanted him to cum inside you; you wanted to feel him drip out of you all night. So you told him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes Marcus, cum inside me, please," you begged. He did love when you begged, after all.

He cursed your name and then came inside you, thrusting his hot seed deep in your cunt and filling you up. He collapsed on top of you, finally releasing your arms, needing both of his to hold himself above you. His throbbing cock remained inside you as he leaned over you and kissed your back, whispering your name in sweet euphoria. The two of you remained like that, warm bodies piled atop one another, for several minutes, heaving in and out to catch your breath.

Finally, he pulled out and stood, helping you up as well so you could sit on the arm of the couch he'd just fucked you over.

You realized that this was the first time you were actually seeing Marcus naked. He had taken you from behind the whole time, but now, you were finally able to place your hands on his smooth chest and wrap your legs around his waist. You pulled him into a kiss and then leaned back, falling backward onto the couch and taking him down with you. In this position, Marcus laid his head on your chest, easing deep into your arms as you stayed wrapped around him. It was a perfect feeling, fulfilling the skin-to-skin contact you knew you both desperately needed. For a moment, you were both quiet, listening to the steady rhythm of one another's breath. Marcus was the first to break the silence.

"So, was your hypothesis correct?"

You laughed. "So far, the evidence is compelling. I may need to conduct some more testing to know for sure, though."

"I think we can arrange that," he said with a smile.

[bloodiedpixie]

Thank you @mostlymaudlin for tagging me!!! I really love this idea, basically, you find five bits of yourself that you gave to your writing, also called: writerly ephemera.

It's super interesting reading everybody else's, hopefully, mine is also interesting!!

Of All The Wildflowers, Chapter 2

“Yes…are you?” I ask, lowering my voice so no one can hear.

It’s like I’m trying to hide from the non-existent people I feel listening to me. The hidden eyes. The hypervigilant ears. The ones I’ve spent avoiding since I was 11. Since I saw a picture of Mick Jagger and my eyes went wide. Those non-existent people. Those ears and eyes. The ones that are all too real some days."

OH BOY HOWDY! Okay so I don't live in a very safe place, my house and family are fine but the second I step outside it's this feeling. The non-existent eyes.

I really project a lot into that line because I feel that's what most if not all queer kids have felt, hiding from "someone" even though they aren't there.

WIP (I'm not revealing the title though cause secrecy)

"I’m silent for a moment. “I didn’t think I’d like you at first.”

“Lovely sentiment.”

“Let me finish...I didn’t think I’d like you at first, but I was pleasantly surprised. You made jokes that have made me lose my breath and asked questions that made me confused about life. Even though you’re as dramatic as an actor and annoying to bits sometimes, I wouldn’t trade you for all the spells in the world. I wouldn’t trade those nights for all the magic the world of mages possesses.” I’m starting to get teary-eyed when I move Baz’s face to look at me.

I smile the tears and say, “Thank you Basil. For being my brother, for being my best friend, and for letting me be a part of your life. I’m sorry it’s ending right as the fun began. Just know I love you, and you’ll always be in mind until the day I drop.”

I have a couple close friends who I adore with my whole heart and this is my best way of expressing love for them.

I've written my fair share of sad scenes but my greatest fear is losing them so having a scene where you have to say goodbye to your found family is a part of me I just shoved in there.

Begin your twenties with a...nevermind

"Then it gets deafeningly silent, it’s so quiet. My tail isn’t moving, my wings don’t flutter, and all I can hear in my head is, “Fuck up” over and over and over again.

My chest feels like there’s an elephant on it and my lungs only have the smallest bit of air. My throat feels tight, and everything is incredibly loud.

Suddenly, a sob breaks through my throat and it burns through me like fire. I cough and sob and feel like a baby as my wings on their own wrap around me and my tail curls up my leg.

I shouldn’t need my boyfriend and best friend to fucking babysit me. I should be able to take care of myself and not rely on other people.

I mean fuck, I’m nineteen-

Twenty. I’m twenty now. Merlin, I’m twenty.

I cough out another sob and I keep sobbing until I can’t anymore. Until I’m just coughing and borderline laughing at how pathetic I am now."

~☆Panic Attacks☆~

I have super bad anxiety so panic attacks are my specialty lol

I really put myself into this scene and tried to explain what a panic attack feels like to me and the main part is "deafeningly silent." That's the best I can describe how a panic attack feels, everything gets real loud but there is no noise.

finally, my anxiety came in handy lol

WIP, This Is What It's Like To Be Lovers

Though even though he’s being adorable and a twat, he’s really just a bit lost. He’s never shopped somewhere that has used clothes (unless it’s one of those fancy vintage shops).

I definitely understand that he’s learning when Baz is running his fingers over a maroon jumper with a thick gray stripe going across the front of it and he looks confused by it.

“That’s nice,” I state while scouring the random assortment of tops in front of me.

“It’s five pounds,” he states, sounding a bit sad.

“That’s not much—”

“It’s Ralph Lauren and they’re selling it for five pounds,” he sounds a bit offended.

“Yeah, put it in the trolley we’ll get it.”

“Why would someone buy something so expensive then give it away for five pounds?”

I walk over and grab the jumper off the rack, “Because, the person didn’t wear it anymore and a lot of people don’t have a lot of money, so when they find something like a Ralph Lauren shirt that will last them years for five pounds it’s a good thing.”

Baz’s offended/confused face falls immediately, and he grabs the jumper and puts it back.

I shop almost exclusively at thrift stores and have done that since i was a baby so I know them inside and out. this scene is really close to home because Baz was raised in a wealthy household and Simon was on his own. I've never had a lot of money and have had to explain to people I shop with that the prices are that low for a reason and so I had Baz put it back because he would rather someone who actually needs it finds it.

The Watford Mages, Chapter 2

“I turn my head and look at Baz who is sitting next to me. He fell asleep a few minutes after we got on the bus. His hair dried all fluffy and wavy. I kind of want to touch it, just to see what it feels like. I barely ever see it without product in it.

He looks so calm, with no grimace or sneers on his face. He always looks so bloody perfect. It’s unfair really, the only imperfections are things I caused. His nose is a bit crooked, (I did that) his lip has a gash on it, (did that) and his cheek has a bit of a bruise (did that too).

He looks so soft like this.

Baz takes a big breath in and stretches his arms above his head, arching his back in the process.

I can’t take my eyes off him, he looks so…comfortable?

“Snow?” Baz asks sleepily. His voice is deep and a bit groggy.

That snaps me from my thoughts, I turn my head to look out the window instead, but I can see Baz’s reflection. He looks confused for a second before leaning his head back and closing his eyes again.

I try to focus on the song and the scenery, but my eyes keep tracking back to Baz.”

I’ve been on my fair share of busses and remember always watching the people behind me in the windows. It’s really interesting to see people in reflections because everyone looks backward and I wanted to get that across here. Simon doesn’t ever view Baz as “comfortable” or “calm” so seeing him tuckered out in a reflection is backward to him.

Alrighty!! Imma no pressure tag, @caitybug @foolofabookwyrm @palimpsessed @wetheformidables @trenchcoat-moth @ninemagicks @snowybank @annabellelux @xivz

No pressure though!! 💙

[cevans16]

Choosing Between Two Loves Part 6 ~ Endgame - 2

Summary: You were a Goddess named (Y/N), who had powers similar to Thor and even stronger, you joined the Avengers back when Loki had tried to take over New York. You were great friends with most of them. Tony Stark was someone you were always in love with even though you knew you could never have him. However that all changes when you get to know a certain super soldier....

You were in the compound, Banner had come along to try to crack travel through quantum physics but had yet to be successful. Scott had gone through various phases in his lifetime in the span of a few minutes, you tried your best not to laugh at the situation, especially seeing Steve’s reaction. “It’s not funny” Steve said to you, “I’m sorry but it is just a tiny bit” you replied, “I’ll be outside” he said annoyed.

You walked outside to apologize to Steve, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have laughed” you said genuinely, “It’s okay, I don’t know what else to do, we all lost someone and there’s nothing I can do, I thought Tony would help but....”, “I think he will Steve, you just have to give him some time, Tony is restless, he’s been through a lot” you explained giving him a gently squeeze on his arm. He turned to smile at you, “I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me about Bucky” he said, “Give him time Steve, at one point I didn’t think I would” you said, “Right, you hated me” he said laughing, you laughed along with him, “I did, I didn’t think I could ever hate you but look where we are, it’s going to work Steve, I know you miss Barnes and Sam and everyone else, we’ll find something” you assured him. You were quiet for a few minutes until Steve spoke again, “Do you still hate Bucky?” he asked you, “Ehhh that is debateable, he did stab me remember” you said to him. Deep down you didn’t hate Barnes but no one could know that, it was a weird feeling for you. “You know he thought you were, these are his exact words, ‘the most beautiful woman he has ever seen’” he explained, “Oh shut up” you said blushing, “I’m not kidding and he’s not wrong -” he was continuing until you heard a familiar car come inside the compound racing towards you, “Speaking of the devil” you said smiling. Sure enough Tony pulled up to you guys in his famous Audi, “Why the long face? Let me guess, he turned into a baby” Tony teased, you burst out laughing, Steve rolled his eyes, “Among other things” Steve replied. Tony got out of the car, “I just want peace” he said motioning the peace symbol with his two fingers. You turned to Steve in a ‘I told you so’ way, “I’ll give you two a minute, please keep it PG” you joked while heading back inside the compound, “Nice to see you too (Y/N)” Tony said.

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

Everything you had exactly told Steve would happened with Tony ended up happening, they were able to squash their differences and focus on bringing the others back. You were ecstatic to have the team back, however something in your gut told you though that this would be the last mission where you would all be together.

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

Thor and you were hanging out per usual, you guys always had deep conversations about the journey you both had in common. “Do you think we’re going to do this?” Thor asked sincerely, he knew about your captivity with Thanos, Thor knew everything about you and you knew everything about him. Tony called you both the dynamic duo, he was glad to see you happy to have your best friend back.

“I don’t know, I wish I knew Thor....” you said honestly, you turned to look down at him since he was on the floor relaxing, “I know that it’s not going to be easy but we are in the greatest hands, surrounded by the best we can have....promise me one thing Thor” you said, he looked back at you, “Yes?”, “If it all goes wrong and I don’t make it, promise me that you will live your life to the fullest, no matter what” you said, Thor’s eyes filled up with tears, “Don’t say that to me.... I can’t lose you (Y/N)” he said sadly, “I know but I’ve lived my entire life fighting and just know that I will do everything I can to save this world” you explained. Thor got up to face you, “You and I are going to make it, we all will, and then we will finally enjoy our lives, you’re my greatest friend” he said genuinely, “I know, I love you a lot Thor”, “Who knows, maybe one day you’ll find your mate” he added, “Ehhhh I don’t know about that” you said laughing, “Maybe we’ll find YOU one Thor” you teased.

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You guys suited up, you had skipped your usual warrior outfit for a suit Tony had specialized for you all to be able to travel through time. You guys lined in a circle around the machine, you looked around at each member of the Avengers; Nat, Steve, Clint, Scott, Rocket, Banner, Nebula, Tony on your right and Thor on your left. You hoped everyone would make it back safely. Steve made his usual motivational speeches that made you all want to go to war with him. He finished it off with “This is the fight of our lives”. 

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

Thor, Rocket, and you traveled back to Thor’s realm, Asgard. You had to extract one of the stones from Thor’s ex, Jane, you were excited to meet her even if it was the past Jane. You guys arrived trying your best to not get noticed by anyone. Next thing you knew, Thor was having a breakdown about being back home, you understood him, on the other hand Rocket slapped him, trying his best to motivate Thor, you guys turned around for a second and Thor was gone. “Looks like its just me and you warrior princess” Rocket said to you. You walked by his side, you needed to give Thor his space. 

A few minutes later you were able to spot Jane walking into a room. You tiptoed slowly before entering the room. “Excuse me? Who are you?” Jane asked when she noticed you. “I’m a friend of Thor’s, look this isn’t going to make sense but you have something that we need and.....”. Next thing you knew Rocket was launching himself onto her knocking her out when she fell and hit her head. “Are you serious right now?” you yelled at him, “What, am I not getting what we needed?” he replied sarcastically, “I thought I left Tony back in New York” you muttered to yourself. 

You guys walked out of the room, only to find a group of Asgardians waiting for you two. “Stay where you are!” they yelled, “We’re friends of Thor’s” you said cautiously, it didn’t work, they ran towards you and Rocket, “Rocket GO!!” you said to him. You stood in defense to fight the group of seven men coming towards you, all those years of training paid off, you got them all down in a matter of two minutes. You picked up a spear before running towards Rocket, who was surprisingly waiting for you a few pillars down. “That was... wow, you want to join the Guardians? Well whatever is left of us” he said. You smiled at him, “Come on, we need to find Thor”. 

You guys walked further down the corridor, the palace reminded you a lot like your old one where you grew up. 

You finally spotted Thor, he was talking to a woman. “Hey Thor, we got what we needed” Rocket said to him, Thor turned to look at you guys, there was tears in his eyes, he gave you a look telling you that was his mother. “It’s a pleasure to meet you my lady” you said to the her while bowing your head, “Ohhh you are just wonderful! Thank you for keeping an eye on my son” she said giving you a strong hug, you embraced her back, hugging her tighter. “(Y/N), we need to go” Rocket said, “Hold on, give me a minute” Thor said, you and Rocket looked at each other a bit confused, then you knew, Thor was waiting for his Mjolnir, “I’m still worthy” he said smiling to himself. 

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

The three of you traveled to the present, when you landed you noticed most were already back. You looked over at Clint, he looked heartbroken, you felt a pang in your heart, Nat was missing. 

“Did she have any family?” you heard Tony ask, “Yeah....us” replied Steve. You were in disbelief, Nat, the strongest woman you had ever met was gone. “Why are we acting like she’s dead?” Thor said annoyed, “Thor.....she’s gone” you said breaking down in tears, “It was supposed to be me” Clint said angrily. “She’s not coming back guys, we need to do this for her” Banner said. You held a small ceremony in her honor, she had done so much, she needed at least something in her sacrifice.

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

You were all back inside the compound in the room Tony had built specialized for when you would snap the gauntlet to bring everyone you can back. You had changed back into your warrior outfit, you had to be prepared for anything that could come with messing with time. Banner had volunteered to do it, you all stood around him, shielding yourselves for the impact it could make once he snapped his fingers. The moment he did, he passed out on the floor, “Banner!” you yelled running to his aid, he was conscious but took a nasty burn, luckily Tony had his tool to freeze over what was burnt on Banner’s body. You got up to look around to see if anything had changed, it was eerily silent and then it all went pitch black. 

[that-damn-girl]

(3) Bucky and The Bed

Completed

Chapter 2

Bucky and The Bed Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (cis)fem!reader

Words: 2800+

Summery: You and Bucky are stranded in the middle of a snowy nowhere when there is an 'electronic blackout' during your mission. With no back ups or any way to contact your team, you take refuge from the worsening weather in the only cabin you find  in miles. Not to mention, with no power, Bucky has become your personal heater and there's only one bed.

Chapter type: Lovesick Bucky, cuddling, mutual pinning.

Chapter warning: A bit paranoid reader.

A/N: Tbh, I am not proud of this chapter but I wanted to get done with this part. I am not really a tech person, nor can I form proper plots with tech stuff involved. Sorry in advance for the plot holes you find. Some inspiration is taken from movies Spy Kids 2 and Charlie's Angels. 

The hours of night soon gave way for morning to creep in. Beam by beam light poured in through the large sized windows, illuminating the room in a silver glow.

In a relaxed and peaceful moment, Bucky woke up to the sight of a goddess wrapped up in his arms. Your face was pressed against his chest, one hand gripping his sweater tightly in your fist and the other thrown loosely around his waist; legs intertwined with his in comfort.

With one arm around your back, Bucky could feel your chest rise and fall with every breath; feel every exhale of yours through the thin layers he had on.

Golden rays from the fireplace and the pale brightness from the windows in the absence of direct sunlight cast a beautiful glow on your face, a mixture of different shades dancing about. 

He could feel his heart swell with adoration just looking at you. Your lips, partly open, appeared more plump since a side of your face was cutely pressed against his body. With a slight pout and closed eyes, your face conveyed a look of pure innocence which Bucky knew he couldn't get out of his head anytime soon.

Your face was angled so that your lovely lips peered at him, seemingly begging to be sucked and licked and kissed and bitten with pure red passion. As if he hadn't wanted to do exactly that.

Closing his eyes, he gave himself a moment to calm down his racing heart. He loved the feel of you engulfed in his arms, filling a void he'd become familiar with since too long. Hard yet soft, pressed against him in the sweetest of manners  due to a girdle of trust and confidence which surrounded your friendship, keeping it tight.

Silencing his wants, he leaned down and kissed the top of your head hard and lovingly, as if convincing you that he would not act on his wanton desires and loose a friend he cherished immensely in greed for more.

You slowly stirred against him. He stilled, worried that he woke you up, but after giving out a breathy exhale you resumed your position, burying your face even further and an arm tightening around his waist. Your otherwise calm posture would have fooled him, but the secretive smile tugging at your lips gave you away. Bucky thought that his kiss wouldn't have been noticed, but the small peck to his chest, right above his heart by your lips proved him wrong.

Gracing your face with a smile which took his breath away every damn time, you said, "I could get used to this."

You had been in that state rocking between the dream world and the real word for quite some time. Loving every cursory second of it, you didn't want to wake up and get out of the cocoon of Bucky and the blankets. While you were savouring the moment, you felt softness touch your head, realising what Bucky had done. Your heart thumped hard. You couldn't have stopped from reciprocating the affection even if you wanted.

Bucky felt his heart swell once again, swearing it would fly out of his rib cage at any moment.

"Yeah?" Bucky asked tentatively. A smile formed at the corner of his lips.

"Mhmm," You started, cuddling closer to him, fastening your hold on him, "You're so warm."

"You're making me cold." You whipped your head at him, worrying you'd overstepped the borders. But one look at the mischievous look in his eyes and a sly smirk on his luscious lips told you otherwise.

"Hey," You lightly hit his arm, making him rumble with laughter.

You looked at his beautiful face, eyes crinkled and teeth bared in mirthful laughter. It was good to know that he felt light enough to crack jokes. God, you thought, if the cold wouldn't kill me, his smile definitely would.

"No, but seriously," you propped yourself up on one elbow, the other still over his waist, "Are you cold because of me?" You sounded as serious as you looked.

His general body temperature was higher than yours. After giving it a thought, it only made sense to you. You'd made him cold if he'd made you warm.

He scrunched his nose, baffled as to why you would think that, "What? No! Don't be silly."

"Okay then," You said, snuggling back with him, "Don't come complaining to me later."

Why would I? He thought. He'd promised himself that he'd run to the ends of the world if it meant keeping you warm and comfortable. With a dreamy smile on his lips, he said, "Wouldn't dream of it."

You closed your eyes, relaxing further into him, "Good, cause now you're officially my cuddle pillow."

He barked out another laugh, "Cuddle pillow, huh?" He hugged you closer, "Well, cuddle pillow at your service, ma'am."

You both chuckled. He looked down at you, that post laugh smile still gracing your face. Smiling or not, he knew he could always look at you and never get enough of it, because he could never fucking get enough of you. He'd always admire those beautiful pair of eyes and those lips he couldn't stop daydreaming about-

"Hey, Bucky," You start , that smile having fallen off your face, "I've been thinking about that white thing..."

Huh?

It took Bucky a moment to understand that you had been talking about the split halves of the white octagonal box you two had found the previous day. So occupied with thoughts of you pressed against him, Bucky had forgotten that morning what had caused all of this in the first place. He felt dumb.

Clearing his throat he said, "What about it"? Pretending as if he'd been thinking about it too, because he couldn't let one of the few people whose opinions he did care about think he was dumb - especially not you.

"When it blew up, it somehow made all electronics in its range dysfunctional."

"Yeah."

"The range can't be infinite though." You paused, waiting for his confirmation; for an indication that you made sense.

"I guess."

"We already walked for like what...10 to 15 miles?"

"Kinda, yes."

You sat up, explaining animatedly with your hands, "So if we do venture out some more, maybe we can surpass the range. If we do, we could at least communicate through our comms."

Bucky sat up too, a puzzled expression in his face, "Yeah, we can try that."

"Yeah, we can!"

One look at your excited expression and he placed a hand on your shoulder. Shaking his head, Bucky said, "No, no, no, no. Not 'we'. It's gonna be just me."

"What?"

"You shouldn't go out there."

"Excuse me?!"

Bucky huffed, "Doll, we don't know what's the radius of the range. For all we know, it could be another 20 miles. You can't walk 20 miles in this weather. But I can."

You furrowed in your eyebrows. Truth be told, you knew without proper gear - which you didn't have at the moment - you wouldn't be able to survive in the bitter cold outside, let alone trek an unknown span. Bucky, on the other hand, had the serum which made him much more resistant to the cold - frankly anything else - than you. Damn it. You didn't want to admit defeat, but you had to.

Looking everywhere but at him, you tried to come up with a reason reasonable enough so that you could accompany him too. Finding none, you shrugged, "I mean - okay." Something clicked inside you all of a sudden and you grabbed his forearm, "But if you're going on your own, what if something happens to you? I wouldn't know it. I wouldn't be able to help you."

Unveiled worry reflected in your eyes. You chewed on your bottom lip. Bucky knew you cared about him, but looking at you being anxious just for him did things to his heart.

Looking deep into your eyes, he gave a shy smile, "No, doll, I'll be fine. You don't have to worry about me."

You knew Bucky facing any obstacles were highly unlikely. He'd was an ex-assassin - an expert one at that. He had amazing knife skills and was one of the greatest snipers the world had known. But he was also your friend, one you had feelings a little too deep for.

You shuffled closer to him and laid your head on his shoulder, saying in a voice softer than his heart had become, "I care about you, Bucky. I'll always worry about you."

His breath hitched. Strings tugged at his heart. Bucky didn't know why he was so surprised. He guessed it was because he wasn't used  to people outwardly showing concern for him. He didn't want to dwell on it though. Despite having known it already, it felt good hearing you voice it out loud.

He laid his head on top of your and started petting your hair. Hiding his smile, he said, "It's gonna be fine, doll. I'm gonna be fine."

As Bucky jogged through layers upon layers of snow, he could only see white sheets for as far as his vision allowed. The dark green, lushy, conical tress were the only living things by definition in sight - that too covered under silver thaw.

He could hear the crunch of ice crystals under his boots and the chilly hurried winds rush by his ear, biting mercilessly at his exposed cheeks and nose.

The air was crisp as he breathed; so sharp and freezing he felt his lungs were being punctured. Though he didn't have any trouble breathing, he didn't like the feeling one bit. He swore he could taste the difference in the air between there and New York.

The thickness of clouds prevented sunrays from falling on skin - or anywhere in sight. His surroundings were as gloomy as the sky above. The only thing which kept his heart light was the still lingering feel of your lips on his skin.

As Bucky prepared to leave, you couldn't help but fret over him. Double checking if he had his weapons on hand, though he doubted he need them, you said one could never be too cautious. You made sure he had his comm on and insisted he put on more layers than just one heavy jacket over a sweatshirt. He assured you that all the jogging that he'd do would make him warm enough to not need anymore layering.

In your anxiousness you expressed your concern over the littlest of details. In his opinion, they were unnecessary. He only needed to be careful about not losing his path and not push past his limit. He had to appreciate your presence of mind though, but that did not mean he could let you work yourself into a panic attack.

In your defence, you were worried!

How Bucky wished he could take a hold of you in a sudden moment and kiss you senseless to stop your rambling like he had seen in all those movies. He could almost picture it happening in front of him. Nevermind the fact that he knew while in the movies the couple would somehow confess their love for each other, in the reality version you would push him away and things would be awkward and your friendship would be strained. And he couldn't let that happen.

Only if he'd known how wrong he was.

Instead, Bucky chose to grab your shoulders in a sudden moment to stop your rambling, letting you calm down against him, "Doll, you worry too much."

You huffed, "Bucky..."

"I know, Y/N, but trust me, I am going to be safe. Everything's going to be alright." He assured you yet again.

When he was about to leave through the main door, you shouted, "Bucky!"

As soon as he turned around, he saw you running to him and hugging him tight, the sheer force of your body colliding into his throwing him off his feet for a second. He soon got a grip on himself and hugged you back.

You were aware you might have been over-reacting. You might have been paranoid too. But you the thought of Bucky out in the open all by himself, unsafe while you were not didn't sit well with you. He was a grown man and capable enough on his own, yet feelings or not, he was a very close friend.

For a moment Bucky thought you were on a mission to bruise his ribs when you said, "Just take care of yourself, Bucky." and put a soft lingering kiss to his cheeks.

Bucky could still feel softness of your lips on his skin. He didn't want to be out here in the cold when he could have been snuggling with you. But he had to.

He kept running for miles and miles and his body didn't even feel relatively tired. A little out of breath, yes, but not tired. He willed himself to not loose his patience and keep going on further when he heard some static in his ear. He stopped abruptly.

Pressing the communication device to his ear, he said, "Hello?" He only heard the constant buzz of static and nothing more.

Going forward a few steps, he repeated himself. A voice broke through the static, "Agent Y/N? Sergeant Barnes?" It seemed to be FRIDAY's.

Bucky couldn't believe it. Your idea had worked and he had surpassed the range!

Bucky called out with a relieved face, "Sergeant Barnes reporting. Does anybody copy?"

"Bucky!" A shriek tore out through his earpiece, disturbing his sensitive eardrums. Though extremely high pitched, he knew whose it was.

"Sam?" Bucky questioned.

"Man, what the fuck has been going on with you? You guys were supposed to report in eighteen hours earlier! I had been worried sick about you two!" Sam's clearly worried voice spoke.

"Sam, we're fine. Nobody hurt but there's a little problem." Bucky licked his bottom lip, contemplating how he'd tell him your 'little' situation.

"What problem?" Sam prompted.

Well, considering the fact that they had had fought an army of aliens, Bucky thought that this shouldn't be much surprising. Bucky told the Captain about the white octagonal box, what all had happened the previous day and the idea you put forward that morning.

Bucky heard no response. Worried he'd lost connection again, he asked, "Sam, you there?"

Sam was nothing if not flabbergasted. He didn't know how to respond to the situation. Hardly had he felt relieve over his friends beings safe when this came up. According to Bucky's calculations, that pesky little things had rendered any electronic useless within forty miles of its radius.

How the fuck was he going to get his friends out of there when he couldn't even get the quinjet near to them!

"FRIDAY," Sam started, unsure what commands to give, "Do you know what he's been talking about?"

"Sergeant Barnes seems to be talking about a transmooker." The AI replied in her nonchalant voice.

"A what?" Both Bucky and Sam shot up.

"A transmooker. It can disable networking systems and any electronic component within the range of its blast by slightly altering the magnetic field." FRIDAY informed.

"But I don't feel anything on my arm." Bucky said, now more confused than ever.

"It is not strong enough to restrict or guide your movement, Sergeant Barnes, but strong enough to hamper the electricity flow in the devices you have."

"Can you do something about it, FRIDAY? Like hack it or something?" Sam asked, overwhelmed beyond belief.

"I cannot override it, Captain. To do that, I'd have to track it first. It seems to have created a GPS blackhole. Though according to my calculations, with an error percentage of twenty percent, the effects must begin wearing down in a week or so. As soon as that happens, I can undo it's effects."

"A week?" Bucky asked, followed by a confirmation by the AI.

"Think you can hold out for a week?" Sam asked.

"We got the supplies, at least. So yeah." Bucky nodded, looking out into the distance. Details were worked upon, goodbyes were said.

A week, Bucky thought. He hadn't even spent a day with you without turning into a lovesick puppy, he wondered what the week ahead would do to him.

The divider is made by @writeyourmindaway​

Chapter 4

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Thank you for reading!

[allthingsfangirl101]

Apology Flowers–Zac Efron

Zac's POV

By the time we were finally finished filming, it was late. I walked back to my trailer, rolling my shoulders to try and relieve some of the tension. I plopped down onto the couch and leaned my head against the cushion.

I sighed when I heard my phone go off. I sat up and grabbed it off the table. When I turned it on, my stomach felt like I had just been punched. I had 4 missed calls, 8 unopened texts, and one voicemail from Y/N. I also had one text from my brother that made my heart bungee jump into my stomach.

Dylan 😎: Hey, man. How was your anniversary dinner with Y/N? She was pretty excited about it when I talked to her.

"Shit," I mumbled as I quickly called Y/N. I held my breath as it rang and rang and rang. I jumped up and started pacing back and forth as I waited for her to answer. When it went to voicemail, I immediately started to try and explain.

"Hey, babe. I am so so so so so sorry! We have been filming nonstop since I walked onto set this morning. I just walked into my trailer for the first time all day. I'm so sorry, Y/N. I really hope you weren't. . . Of course, you were waiting long for me. Shit. I'm so sorry. You have every right to be furious with me. And you can be angry with me and hold this over my head for as long as you want. I deserve it. I'm so sorry, Y/N. Please call me back. I love you."

I hung up the phone and aggressively threw it back onto the couch. I swore as I angrily ran my fingers through my hair. I looked at the clock on the wall to see it was almost 10:30.

Our dinner reservations were for 7. Originally, I was supposed to be done filming by 6, rush home, shower, and meet Y/N at the restaurant. I sat back down on the couch, feeling like a complete jerk.

Y/N and I have been dating for two years today. I've been late for dates, I've left the country suddenly, and I've come home at 3 am. I've done some truly crappy boyfriend things, but I have never stood her up on a date without texting her at least two hours in advance.

I couldn't help but wonder how long she was sitting at the restaurant waiting for me. I slowly grabbed my phone that had fallen onto the floor, gathering the courage to go through the missed texts and calls. My heart sank into my stomach, my guilt building as I read through her messages.

Sent as 5:30 p.m. Y/N ❤️: Hey, babe. I'm getting ready! So excited for tonight! Love you!!

Sent at 6:43 p.m. Y/N ❤️: I'm heading to the restaurant! You on your way?

Sent at 6:57 p.m. Y/N ❤️: I beat you! Lol. You close?

Missed call from Y/N ❤️ at 7:09 p.m.

Sent at 7:12 p.m. Y/N ❤️: Hey, babe. Let me know when you're on your way, okay? Love you.

Missed call from Y/N ❤️ at 7:33 p.m.

Sent at 7:46 p.m. Y/N ❤️: Hey, babe. I tried calling you twice. Everything alright?

Sent at 8:02 p.m. Y/N ❤️: Hey, babe. I hate to be that girlfriend that texts a million times, but are you okay? I haven't heard from you and it's getting late. Please text me so I know you're okay. Love you.

Missed call from Y/N ❤️ at 8:05 p.m.

Sent at 8:19 p.m. Y/N ❤️: Where are you? Is everything okay? Zac, please call me. I'm starting to get really worried...

Sent at 8:57 p.m. Y/N ❤️: Zac?

Missed call and voicemail from Y/N ❤️ at 9:12 p.m.

I pushed on the voicemail that Y/N left me, my heart sinking even lower when I heard her defeated voice.

"Hey, babe," she said, her voice cracking."I'm in my car, outside the restaurant. I've been waiting for. . ."

There was a pause as Y/N's breath got caught in her throat. I could imagine her looking at her dashboard to see how late it actually was.

"Look," she sighed, "I don't know if something came up or. . . Or maybe you forgot about tonight. . ."

All I could hear as she paused again was her taking a shaky breath. "Zac?" She said, her voice breaking. "Is everything okay? I've been calling you and texting you all night. I just. . . I hated texting you over and over like a clingy girlfriend and. . . Then it got to the point that people were staring at me and whispering. . ."

I ran my fingers through my hair when Y/N started crying. I opened my mouth to say something to her but remembered that this was a message. I officially felt like the worse boyfriend ever when the last thing I heard before Y/N hung up the phone was her crying.

I quickly grabbed my things and ran out to my car. The entire way to her apartment, I kept calling her and calling her. I parked out front and ran inside, still trying to call her. I knocked on the door, nervously bouncing on my heels.

"Oh hello, Zachary."

"Hi, Bianca," I sighed when Y/N's roommate answered the door.

Y/N and Bianca were roommates in college and they continued living together after they graduated. Bianca was a makeup artist but got a degree in business from UCLA to get her dad off her back. Y/N got her degree in Elementary Education. After they graduated, Bianca got a job on a tv show doing makeup and Y/N got a job at a school in the city.

Y/N and I met through Bianca. When I was working on The Greatest Showman, Bianca was my makeup artist. Every day, Y/N would drop Bianca off on her way to school and pick her up on her way home. I ran into Y/N probably hundreds of times, flirting with her every chance I had.

Eventually, I got the nerve up to ask her out. She said yes even though Bianca had tried to warn her to stay away from me. On our third date, Y/N confessed that after the first time she and I met, Bianca warned her that I would just break her heart. Luckily, Y/N ignored her roommate's warnings and went out with me anyway, wanting to see for herself if I would break her heart.

As Y/N and I started dating, Bianca was extremely protective of her. It seems like she has hated me with every fiber of her being since day one.

"Is Y/N here?" I asked, trying to look into her apartment. "I really need to talk to her."

"You do, do you?" She said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Do you have any idea how much of an ass you are?"

"I know," I sighed. "I am. And I want to explain everything. So, please tell her I'm here. I tried calling, but she wasn't answering her phone. . ."

"Of course she didn't answer her phone!" Bianca yelled, cutting me off. "You stood her up, Zac. And not just on a regular date. It was your two year anniversary. Or did you forget?"

"I didn't forget," I said as quickly as I could. "It's just. . . They kept wanting different angles and we kept redoing scenes. I didn't have any control over it, okay? Why am I explaining this to you? Where's Y/N?"

"I'm sorry, Zac," she said with a victorious smirk. "Y/N isn't accepting any visitors."

She was about to shut the door but stopped. "I knew it," she said, her anger coming through her voice. "I knew this would happen. I knew you would show your true colors sooner or later."

"Bianca. . ."

"I knew you would break her heart, Zac Efron."

                       * * * * *

I spent the rest of the night calling Y/N and texting her. I finally fell asleep around 3 a.m. The minute I woke up three and a half hours later, I started trying to call her again.

She continued to ignore my calls and texts throughout the day. I stopped calling her when I knew she would be teaching, but I continued to text her. I tried calling her during her lunch hour, but she still wasn't responding.

"I can't believe you forgot your two year anniversary," Dylan laughed. He came over later in the afternoon when I told him Y/N wasn't answering me. Instead of comforting me, he was giving me a hard time

"I didn't forget!" I defended myself. "We just went over."

"Over? By four hours?" Dylan scoffed. "Wait, weren't you planning on asking Y/N to move in with you?"

He started laughing when he saw the look on my face. I rolled my eyes and took another drink of my beer.

"That sucks," he said, still laughing. "Now instead of moving in with you, she's gonna dump your sorry ass."

My eyes widened and my heart jumped into my throat. "You don't think. . ."

"I was kidding," Dylan said quickly. "Y/N loves you. She would never leave because you stood her up. Didn't she tell you when you first started going out that the only reason she would break up with you is if you cheated on her?"

"Yeah," I said, trying to calm down. I ran my fingers through my hair and let out the breath I was holding. "What do I do?" I sighed. "She won't answer my calls. She's ignored every text I sent her. And Bianca is being her guard dog."

"Damn," Dylan laughed. "Bianca scares the shit out of me."

"Me too," I chuckled. "She hates me. She doesn't even pretend to like me for Y/N's sake. I bet she's trying to get Y/N to break up with me."

"She's probably already tried setting her up with someone else."

It started off as a joke, but we soon realized there was more truth in that statement than joke.

"I gotta do something," I jumped up. "And fast."

                       * * * * *

With a box of chocolates and a giant bouquet of Y/N's favorite flowers, I knocked on their door. I was a little relieved when I pulled up and Bianca's car wasn't in the driveway. I sucked in a breath when the door opened.

"Zac," Y/N said under her breath. My heart sank when I saw her red eyes, tear-stained cheeks, messy hair, and baggy clothes.

"Hey," I said, my guilt making it so I couldn't talk. We stood there, her in the doorway and me on the porch, neither one of us saying anything. When Y/N opened her mouth to say something, I gently cut her off.

"I am so sorry, Y/N. I never meant to stand you up last night. Things got so crazy and we went way over. I know that isn't an excuse and I'm not using it as one. I just. . . I messed up. I messed up big! And you can be mad at me forever. I mean it. Hold it over my head for the rest of my life. I deserve it. I didn't mean to hurt you. I love you, Y/N. And I'm really sorry."

I held my breath, waiting for her response. Her arms were wrapped around herself as she studied me. I felt my stomach flutter when she slowly smiled.

"What are those?" She asked, gesturing towards the flowers and chocolate.

"These," I smiled, "are for you. They're an apology gift for me being an asshole."

She stepped onto the porch and took them from me. As she smelled the flowers, she looked up at me through her eyelashes. I gasped when she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me down for a kiss. I instantly kissed her back, wrapping my arms tightly around her waist.

When we broke the kiss, I leaned my forehead against hers. I rubbed our noses together as the guilt still ate at me.

"I'm really sorry, Y/N," I whispered. I leaned back and looked down at her with my arms still wrapped around her waist. "And I promise I will never stand you up again."

"I forgive you," she smiled up at me. I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers, smiling as she kissed me back.

I broke the kiss and looked down at her. I reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, my hand lingering on her cheek.

"There was something I was going to ask you last night," I said, gathering my courage.

"Really?" Y/N asked, slightly tilting her head.

"Yep," I said popping the P. "And there was a present that went along with it."

"Is that so?" Y/N teased. She giggled when I nodded. "Well then, we should go inside."

She grabbed my hand and pulled me inside. I leaned against the kitchen counter as Y/N got a vase for her flowers. After she put them on the table, we walked into the other room.

We sat on the couch, Y/N instantly turning towards me. I smiled and leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. When I pulled away, I reached into my pocket. She looked at me strangely as I grabbed a key to my place and held it out for her.

"Here."

"What's this?" She asked, taking it from me.

"It's a key to my apartment," I explained. I took a deep breath before finally saying, "Y/N, last night I was going to ask you to move in with me."

"Wait, really?" She asked, her eyes wide as they looked up from the key in her hands.

"Yeah," I chuckled nervously. "That was supposed to be my big two-year anniversary romantic gesture."

Y/N grabbed my face and pressed her lips to mine. I smiled as our lips started moving in sync. The kiss was short and simple, but there was so much love behind it.

"I love you," she whispered when she broke the kiss, still holding my face. "And I would love to move in with you."

I smiled, pulling her back into my chest as I laid us down. Our lips moved in sync as I hovered over her. I pulled away and started kissing her neck. She giggled as I found her sweet spot.

"Bianca's gonna be pissed," she said breathlessly.

"I'd rather not talk about her," I said, nibbling on her ear.

"Okay," Y/N sighed as I switched to her other side. After spending a little more attention to her sweet spot, I finally pulled away and looked into her eyes.

"I love you so much, Y/N," I whispered. "And I can't believe I stood you up last night."

"Zac," she sighed, reaching up and playing with my shirt. "You have apologized over and over. I've listened to the voicemails and read the texts that you sent. I'm sorry I didn't respond. I was angry and Bianca said. . ."

I cut her off, pressing my lips back to hers. She giggled against my lips and instantly started kissing me back. She wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me closer to her.

I broke the kiss, smiling down at her. She laughed as I sat up, pulling her with me. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and pulled her into my side.

Y/N turned on Netflix and we spent the next little while eating chocolates and binge-watching a show. We sat like that, just holding each other and not saying anything. When her front door opened, Y/N looked up at me.

"Oh boy," I whispered. "She's here."

"Easy there, big guy," Y/N teased as she laughed and playfully hit my chest.

"Oh, great," Bianca groaned. "You're back together."

"We were never broken up, B." Y/N said, glancing at me before turning to face her.

"Nice to see you too, Bianca." My comment made Y/N laugh that she quickly covered up by clearing her throat. She sent me a soft glare for Bianca's sake.

"Yeah yeah yeah," Bianca mumbled as she walked to her room, ignoring my comment completely. Y/N and I looked at each other, holding in our laughter until she closed her door.

"Will she ever like you?" Y/N giggled as she leaned back into my chest.

"Nope," I sighed. "She's mad that I took you from her."

"That's probably true," she chuckled. I bit my lip as I thought about the last twenty-four hours and sighed.

"You okay?" She asked as I subconsciously tightened my arm around her.

"I still can't believe I stood you up," I said under my breath.

"Zac," she sighed, sitting up and turning towards me. "You didn't do it on purpose, babe. I know that. And I shouldn't have ignored you. I was upset and needed time to blow off steam. But I shouldn't have ignored you. I should've let you explain what happened that night."

"It's okay," I said as we both chuckled. I smiled as I reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I'm really sorry, Y/N."

Y/N leaned up and pressed her lips to mine. Before it could get heated, she pulled away.

"I love you, Zac," she whispered.

"I love you too, Y/N."

I pressed a short kiss to her lips and cupped her face in my hand as I pulled away.

"Happy anniversary, baby."