#But my favorite thing about this is how out of place Anton is here-

[whereismyhat5678]

As for right now, my hands seem to not be working as well with me lately, so I may be experiencing a ✨burnout✨ (I’m so sorry- 😭)

But today I did push myself to make something, and it’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a WHILE so-

The background is plain but I am VERY happy with how all my little guys turned out-

And yes, this was that one Twitter thing:

[sehodreams]

sex money feelings die - fifth visit

fourth visit ↬ fifth visit ↬ sixth visit (tba)

WC: 5.5k

TW and Tags (permanent for the story): rich client!Anton x stripper!reader, smut, fluff (?), a touch of angst for the moment, inexperienced reader, fingering, kissing, masturbation, lots of silly conversations.

Summary: Working at a night club was difficult in many aspects, your sleep schedule was messed up for life, your feet were more used to high heels than sneakers and you had to lie about where you went to work those nights. Still, even with all those cons, you didn't hate your job, you had more than enough to pay your bills, feed your brother and save money for his college. However, what happens when your boss makes you do the one thing you asked to never do.

You carried his card everywhere, you hadn’t call him, but you liked to watch it every time you opened your wallet.

A music producer, you repeated on your mind. It fitted him, he always knew what songs you talked about and even gave you options you listened from time to time when you remembered him.

Still, you couldn’t understand what he was doing coming to a place like Shotaro’s club, you were sure he could easily get a pass in any other club that had his favorite drinks in the menu, and he wouldn’t have to carry his own every time he visited, unlike the place you worked at.

Not that your club was ugly, it had good clients, all of them coming to see you and your gorgeous coworkers, but you had heard of better places that let them do more to the girls, some of them even allowed them to request sexual services, something they would never get here.

Anton had been the only one until now, and you didn’t like the thought of how it all started, but at least Anton had been respectful with you and hadn’t touched you until you asked for it.

You blushed.

You couldn’t forget what had happened on Monday.

Every time you went to sleep you would remember how his long fingers felt inside you and how good he looked under you. The taste of his mouth and the wine was also impregnated on your tongue, not daring to look at a bottle of wine even if none of them were like his.

‘’Is there anything wrong?’’ one of the girls asked when she saw you all lost looking at your phone.

‘’Oh, it’s nothing, just a little tired, and now we’ll have to entertain the pretty boys, I was thinking what to drink to survive the night’’ you smiled and exhaled. It was Friday and they would arrive in a couple of hours.

She nodded, ‘’Yes, but I heard Anton had something to do, I don’t think he’ll come today.’’

‘’Who told you that?’’ you asked confused.

‘’My boy told me the last time they came that Anton and another of his friends may not come today since they had a big meeting or something like that, and they couldn’t move it.’’

You nodded to it, bewildered since Anton hadn’t say a single word when he came on Monday. ‘’I see, well, I guess I should get ready for a show then’’ you tried to not look too surprised.

She stood up and walked out, leaving you alone in the room, and when you felt that no one would come in, most of them grabbing a quick snack in the kitchen before the doors opened, you grabbed your phone and introduced his number.

You watched it on your screen, the many digits intimidated you and you thought about just not calling him, but your finger pressed the green bubble before you could choose.

Not even three rings sounded, and he answered. ‘’Hello?’’ his voice sounded deeper through the phone, more serious than the usual soft tone he used with you, and you almost got weak in your seat.

Biting the inside of your cheek your breath flattered and you felt the nervousness creep behind your back before you could talk, ‘’Hi’’ was the only thing you could say.

‘’Hi’’ his voice changed to the same tone he always used with you, you even heard how he let out a relaxed sigh, making you picture him with his typical soft grin. ‘’I was waiting for your call’’ he murmured.

‘’Yeah well, Shotaro finally told me how much the cleaning fees are.’’

Shotaro hadn’t even spoken to you about it, the only thing he did when he saw it was shrug, shake his head, look at you and walk away, leaving you there next to Sungchan who looked at you and murmured, rich people wine smell different, uh? making you nod before you ran away to hide your blush.

‘’Oh really? And how much is it?’’ he asked, honestly curious.

‘’Are you sitting? Because you may pass out, they will leave you broke.’’

You heard his breathy laugh on the other side of the line.

‘’I’ll make sure to ask for a discount then.’’

‘’I think you should, I can go with you to his office today if you want, he kind of owes me one for teaching the new waitress the basics.’’

Silence.

You gulped and started to bite your cheek again, nervous to not hear him smoothly talk like he always did.

He hummed before he continued, ‘’I think we’ll have to postpone that, I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to go today. I have an important meeting tomorrow and all my team is staying the night to check the last details.’’

You tried to not sound disappointed, ‘’I see’’.

Recognizing that hint of sadness in your tone, he blamed himself for not telling you sooner, ‘’Sorry, I wanted to tell you when we met this Monday but… well, you know we didn’t talk much.’’

‘’Oh.’’

Anton closed his eyes, and his smile came back to him because he knew you were blushing, there, alone, waiting for him, and his hand gripped his phone trying to not remember you that day, he had too many people waiting for him behind the door in front of him to get swayed your way and risk a whole deal just to go and see you for a couple of hours.

But he couldn’t lie to himself, he was already thinking about you even before you called him. He had gone out for a bottle of water when you popped his mind and didn’t let him concentrate on what one of his workers was saying, and just like a miracle his phone had started to sound inside his pocket before he entered the room after deciding to go back and completely forget you to focus on his work again. The screen showed an unknown number, and even if he didn’t know who it belonged to, it made his heart skip before he answered with the hope it was you who called.

‘’I’ll see you this Monday, promise, but meanwhile, do you mind if I call you later? And that means, tomorrow, and the day after, and maybe Monday too.’’

‘’I do mind, if you wake me up, I’ll block you’’ you denied.

He chuckled and nodded, already used to your sharp answers. ‘’Then what about a text?’’ he offered.

‘’Better, but please don’t forget about your debt, the poor couch suffered because of us so I’ll ask for the discount, don’t worry.’’

‘’This girl…’’ his breathy laugh sounded for a couple of long seconds, making you smile, happy of being the cause of it, ‘’I already paid him.’’

You covered your mouth, so he didn’t hear you chuckle, and hanged up.

Choosing your outfit for the night, you tried to think on anything else that wasn’t how you wouldn’t be able to see him later. It was good, you tried to convince yourself, there were many clients that probably missed you those weeks, and you shouldn’t neglect them if you didn’t want to lose them.

Shotaro saw you in the bar having some small talk with the girls that served drinks and told you that you could go to the VIP room if you wanted, after all, one of the girl that accompanied Anton’s friend that wouldn’t come was still going, but you rejected the idea immediately, if he wasn’t there, you didn’t feel like staying the whole night with the group.

When his group arrived all the girls ran to the second VIP room, excited to see their favorite clients and have their fun, while Sungchan, seeing you go to the other direction, to the scenario, without much thinking said, ‘’Ow angel, won’t your pretty boy come tonight?’’

‘’He has work stuff, but better, I needed a break’’ you replied with a smile, and Sungchan, finding the disappointment you tried to mask with your uninterested tone adorable, patted your naked back before he followed the other girls.

Luckily the night ended fast, you did a couple of shows and one of your past regulars called you for a private dance, giving you a good tip saying how much he had missed you the last weeks, ‘’You’ll always be my favorite’’ he said, and you, by instinct, said that he was your favorite too, but you perfectly knew how much of a lie that was.

The night finished without much emotion and you went home as early as you could, it was only four in the morning when you were already standing in your door, two sandwiches in a bag courtesy of Sungchan charming the kitchen lady with his smile, and you accepted them gladly, relieved of not having to make breakfast for your brother, who was sound asleep in his room after studying until late.

Walking as silently as you could, you cleaned your living room a little bit, just tossing old packages and watching that there wasn’t nothing dirty. Your brother, even if he had an even worse schedule than you, always made sure to leave the place as clean as he could, and there wasn’t much for you to do, dishes washed, kitchen table clean and trash can empty.

You sat in the darkness and exhaled, feeling extremely alive for the hour and tired as hell because of the long trip at the same time.

After washing yourself you felt more at ease, hair wet and rolled with a towel because you couldn’t turn on the hairdryer at that hour, and you decided to do something you only did on special occasions.

You searched your client’s name, in this case Anton, online.

You got surprised with the quantity of results there, you had never had a client as famous as him, with so many profiles and articles with his name, it seems he had already produced a couple of popular songs, not many, but enough to let him have a name in the industry, and you, sitting in the border of your old mattress with what used to be a beige bedsheet, pale after so many washes, felt a struck of reality.

Why would he treat you so well when he could go and have an actual connection with a girl as popular, or even more than him, in real life?

You read as many articles as you could, not believing your eyes but at the same time smiling with the praises he had received despite his young age, all of them talking about the future he could (and will) have, a music producer in the company of his family, a life already bright enough to always let him go to bed in peace and never worry about tomorrow, and you did it until your alarm brought you back and you had to go and wake up your brother.

He was a heavy sleeper, you sometimes wondered how he would be able to live without you if he couldn’t wake up with the five alarms he put on his cellphone, but while you could, you would wake him up with pleasure.

Knocking his door, you went to the bathroom and started to dry your hair, thinking in what you would have to cook for dinner and leaving what you read about Anton well behind your mind, because if you remembered it every time you looked at him, you would start getting conscious of yourself, which would definitely change your tone with him, and wouldn’t let you talk as free as you’ve been doing until now.

Not much later you got exactly what you wanted, concentrating on your brother, his dinner and your own breakfast, with the help of the news in the background and the rush of the hour, you forgot him.

However, Anton must have a signal to go back and fill your mind with him whenever you completely forgot him, because when you were about to go to sleep after a long night and morning, ready to not think at all for at least the next five hours, you saw a text from him.

You saw it in real time how the little notification appeared while you watched a video, a message so short and direct that had you smiling and rolling your eyes before you decided to answer.

Are you awake?

You could ignore it and pretend you didn’t see it, but having the opportunity to tease him, you couldn’t lose it just like that.

Sleeping.

Nothing.

You waited for him to answer in the chat, there was no bubble moving showing that he was writing, but he did read it, it appeared like that, and he was online too.

You imagined him reading your message and nodding, thinking ‘’so she’s asleep…’’, ready to not bother you anymore, and you laughed, trying to guess how much time would take him to notice that you had lied.

Minutes passed by, and when you were finally drifting to sleep, your ringtone started to sound.

‘’…I hate you’’ he said when you accepted his call.

‘’Maybe I should hang up then.’’

‘’No’’ he interrupted you, ‘’It’s just… I really believed you for a second, I was ready to not bother you anymore.’’

His breathy laugh made you smile, and you decided to not tell him that you were actually about to sleep, and he had woken you up with his call.

‘’It’s pretty early, why are you calling me at this hour?’’ you didn’t sound angry, just intrigued, had he gone to his meeting? Was he calling you right before his meeting? You wanted to know what pushed him to talk to you at 8 am.

‘’I wanted to know how your night was, the boys told me you didn’t go to the VIP room.’’

You hummed, moving your phone closer to your ear, to hear him better. ‘’I wasn’t needed, the girls were just fine without me.’’

‘’You could’ve gone to rest a little bit, I still paid Shotaro for your time’’ he confessed.

‘’What?’’ you were so surprised you had to sit.

Shotaro hadn’t say anything to you when you left, well, not that you waited for him either, you just grabbed your share of the night and left the rest with Sungchan when he gave you the food.

The point was, you didn’t understand why Anton paid when he didn’t spend the night with you.

‘’Why?’’ you simply couldn’t understand.

‘’I wasn’t going to leave you just like that, it was the least I could do, to be honest, I wanted to give you even more for not seeing you last night, but I thought that maybe it would be a bit too much, even your boss looked at me weird when I said I would still pay.’’

‘’Anton…’’ you couldn’t believe how much he thought about you to do something like that.

And just like you were afraid of, you started to remember all the articles you read and how much they talked wonders about him.

A respectable young man ready to take the industry, and the world, in his hands.

They had no idea how awesome, and impressive, and kind, he really was.

‘’You didn’t have to do that, you didn’t see me yesterday, you got nothing out of that.’’

‘’But I wanted to, if I didn’t, I would’ve felt bad the next time I saw you, thinking how I made you lose your night just because I was busy.’’

‘’Anton, if you don’t come, I can still work’’ you tried to make him understand, ‘’the next time you don’t have to do that.’’

He didn’t answer.

You heard his breathing through the phone and your hand started to play with the border of your shirt. You didn’t know what to say, and suddenly you felt like you couldn’t talk with him like you had been doing, because you really were on different positions, and for you it didn’t make sense how he always had you in his mind and treated you that good when he could do a lot better.

‘’Well… then you won’t like what I bought for you to show how sorry I was.’’

‘’Anton!’’ you called his name louder than expected.

‘’I’m joking’’ he said, happy that you didn’t sound as tense anymore.

He didn’t have to see you to notice the little things about you, even your silence talked for you, and he had sensed how you suddenly got uncomfortable after he admitted how he had paid.

‘’Don’t you have a meeting?’’ you asked after he finished laughing at you.

‘’I already had it, everything went well, I guess talking to you last night gave me luck.’’

‘’Please stop.’’ You begged, not being able to endure his lines anymore.

Perhaps that’s why his songs are so popular, you thought, because you had never met someone able to create corny lines as fast as him.

‘’I was about to sleep, I wanted to hear you one last time before I passed out.’’

‘’I was about to sleep too.’’

He hummed.

You stayed in silence a minute, just hearing each other’s breathing and the bedsheets on his side ruffling with his movements. You were still on your place, only playing with your shirt and waiting for him to talk.

‘’There was something I wanted to talk about… you know, about what we did this Monday.’’

You gulped.

You didn’t expect him to talk about it, you didn’t expect a conversation about it at all.

‘’I wanted to say that… I don’t want you to think you have to do it because I pay you.’’

‘’I know’’ you were quickly to reply.

You did it because you wanted, not because of anything else, not because of the money, or the alcohol, or Shotaro, and you had worked hard to help you go around the next days with an easy mind. You were a big girl, and you could do that kind of thing without feeling guilty anymore.

Anton had been nothing but respectful to you all those days, and you couldn’t let him think that you did it for anything that wasn’t your decision based on how good he treated you.

‘’I think I made myself clear the first days’’ you continued, ‘’I wouldn’t have let you touch me if I didn’t want to.’’

‘’You’re right’’ he sounded relieved on the other side. ‘’Then… is it okay if we do it again? I mean, did you like it?’’

There was no one in your house, you were completely alone, and your door was closed, but you still whispered, as if you were about to say something wrong, or, more than wrong, inappropriate, something that no one else, apart from him, should hear.

‘’I liked it’’ you admitted.

‘’I’m glad, I liked it too.’’

Your mind started to reply that night.

Without thinking, like every night when you remembered it, your arousal started to appear, pouring out of you with the expectations of feeling him again. The image of him under you brought a pression in your abdomen you weren’t used to feel before that occasion, of course you had felt excited before, but the way Anton had showed you how capable he was of driving you into that kind of pleasure made it a lot more intense, almost painful and that made it impossible for you to not move uncomfortable on your seat.

You closed your eyes and exhaled through your nose, trying to control yourself and your mind from making you feel like that with him, not physically there with you, but still there.

‘’You’re thinking about it too, right?’’ he asked you.

You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how right he was.

‘’Are you?’’

‘’You have no idea how much I think about it, I do it every day, every hour.’’

Me too, you closed your eyes again hearing his voice say something so bold without feeling ashamed of it, he was using a different voice, it wasn’t the one he used when he tried to maintain a conversation with you in the club, or the one he used when he answered his phone when he didn’t know it was you who called him, it was deeper, a lot more mature and confident, like the one he used when he made you cum over his lap with his fingers inside you.

A whimper almost escaped your throat and you hided it with a cough, trying to think a way to change the aura of the conversation.

‘’I’m sure you’re getting wet, that day you were dripping all over my hand’’ he then said, and you couldn’t help but gulp again, the faint sound telling him everything he needed to know.

Anton imagined you lying down over his bed, right next to him, with your hand between your thighs, looking at him with those teary eyes, and that was enough for him to get hard.

Every day he imagined the same thing, you over his designer bedsheets, with the little light of his lamp beside his bed, your pretty face frowning and calling his name while your hand played with yourself, waiting for him in his apartment, getting ready for him to take you after a long day at work.

Just that occasion was enough to push the last little will he had to contain himself, he didn’t know how would he be able to face you and not touch you the next time he had you in front of him, but he wanted to leave everything clear before that, he wanted to make sure you enjoyed it as much as he did.

He needed you, and making him feel like a teenager again, every day he dreamed of you, he thought of you, and he jerked off with the memory of you.

‘’Anton…’’ your voice made him look down to his now hard member and groan.

‘’I want to hear you’’ his tongue had to wet his lips, dry of thirst for you, ‘’touch yourself, please.’’

He was begging with such urgency you didn’t know how to say no, and even more, you didn’t want to say no.

Your mind was already telling you to touch yourself like he had done that day, it wouldn’t be the same, you had already tried it those days without him, but it would help you soothe the pain.

‘’I don’t…’’ you wanted to confess how it wasn’t the same if they weren’t his fingers, but you felt your face burn just with the thought of it.

‘’I’ll tell you what to do’’ he interrupted you, ‘’so… will you be good for me?’’

Fuck, you wanted to be good for him.

‘’…Okay’’

Anton pulled down his pants and his underwear, just enough to leave his cock free, which jumped to the sound of you lying over your bed and getting comfortable for him.

‘’What are you wearing?’’ he asked, and just his voice made you get more wet inside your panties.

‘’A t-shirt… and panties.’’

‘’No pants? Isn’t it too cold for that?’’

You couldn’t tell him that you were more used to the coldness because of your work, you felt a lot more comfortable wearing just that at night, and thankfully your apartment was warm enough, it was old, but the winter was bearable.

In summer it was hell though.

‘’I can’t sleep with pants.’’

‘’I can’t sleep with t-shirts, I guess we’re the perfect pair.’’

You bit your lip to not laugh, but he knew you wanted to do it, so he laughed for you.

‘’I can give you all my t-shirts if you want, I don’t mind.’’

‘’Okay’’ you answered, surprising him. He expected you to tell him to stop, but that answer satisfied him even more.

‘’Okay’’ he repeated, ‘’that way, the next time you miss me, and I can’t be with you, at least you’ll have my t-shirt to think of me.’’

That sounded too good, he imagined you wearing his shirt and playing with your clit, drenching the back of it, and he liked the idea so much his cock bounced in front of his eyes.

You, on the other hand, only imagined how comfortable you would feel with his smell lingering around you at night.

‘’Now…’’ he interrupted your thoughts, ‘’don’t take it off, just lift it, as if you were showing me your chest.’’

You felt so embarrassed you just gripped your shirt, eyes closing with force and your mind telling you to follow his words but your conscience too awake and clear now to do it.

‘’I can hear you not moving, I thought you’d be good for me’’ he had already guessed you weren’t going to make the things that easy for him, but he still expected you to do better, for him, ‘’This is the only time in which I won’t tolerate you fooling me.’’

He was right, and feeling the weight of his words, your hand didn’t doubt to lift your t-shirt this time, feeling the morning coldness impact your whole torso, nipples slightly hardening.

He could hear your breath hitching and the fabric of your clothes moving, feeling content with you listening to him this time, maybe he had to be stern with you in bed, he thought, to show that he could play in any other moment, except that one.

‘’Well done.’’

You licked your lips while your eyelids fluttered with his words, you wanted him to continue talking to you like that, so forward and authoritative, as if he knew exactly what you needed.

‘’Play with your nipples, just like how you want me to touch them’’ his hand lifted his shirt to his abdomen, just to rest his hand over it and imagine it was you who was touching him.

You did what he said, and touching your right one with the tip of your finger, you decided it wasn’t how you wanted him to touch you, so to add more intensity, with your whole palm you grabbed your tit, too big for your own hand, and massaged it until your thumb and your index finger pressed your little bud with more force.

That’s how you want him to touch you, with more force, to not be as delicate, he wouldn’t break you, and when you closed your eyes, you could see his big hand cupping you completely without problem.

He heard you breathing get harder, not louder, just with more difficulty, and he could imagine those beautiful nipples begging for him to give them a taste.

The last time he couldn’t, but the next time he definitely would, he had no reasons to stop himself anymore.

‘’How do you feel?’’ he asked when he heard you sigh.

‘’Good, it feels good.’’

He cursed in his mind, what he would give to be there and touch you, and make you feel good with his own hands.

‘’Shit, you’re going to make me cum just with your voice.’’

You moaned.

‘’Don’t say that…’’

‘’Why?’’

‘’Because I want you to cum with me.’’

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Of course you’d drop a bomb like that one, he should learn by that point that you always surprised him for the best in moments like that one, so sweet, and tender, and perfect for him.

‘’Touch your clit, like I did that day’’ he said as he could, one hand going to wrap his member while his thumb spread the pre cum leaking in his tip.

It was already hurting him, but he was so focused on your voice he had forgotten about himself.

‘’It feels good’’ you moaned again, suddenly feeling your own fingers good, not like the previous night you had tried to touch you, it finally felt good.

‘’What I would give to be the one touching you right now.’’

‘’Anton‘’ you cried.

You were using just one finger, flicking your clit up and down and thinking it was him touching you.

‘’Don’t be afraid of using more than one finger, like I did, do it just like I did’’ he ordered, and you obeyed.

You tried to make the same motion, up and down, feeling your juices making a mess inside your panties.

He didn’t lie, you really were dripping for him.

It was so wet, you felt your fingers sliding with such ease over your clit, making you feel incredibly good.

You had touched yourself before, even before you knew Anton, you were human after all, but his groans on your ear and the memory of his hand instead of yours made it a lot better.

You didn’t understand what was so good about masturbating before, it was good, but this was fucking amazing.

You wanted to cup your chest again, just like he would’ve done it, like he did over your bra, but you needed to have your phone on your ear, his voice was more necessary than any light touch over your skin.

‘’Please touch my chest the next time.’’

The next time, he became numb, you were being so good for him, begging with that honeyed voice to touch you, he’d do it with much pleasure, but to hear you say it, to ask for his touch so directly, it was too much for him.

‘’I’ll touch you so good, my angel, I’ll do everything you want.’’

He didn’t mean it only for when he made you feel good with his hands, or his mouth, he honestly wanted to do everything for you.

‘’Put one finger inside.’’

You sighed disappointed, it felt good, but not like when he did it.

‘’It’s not like yours...’’

You heard him groan.

His hand stopped moving, feeling your pain through the phone.

‘’Oh angel, I’m so sorry, I’ll make sure to finger you well next time too.’’

‘’Yours are so long’’ you cried, putting one more in to simulate the size of his fingers.

It wasn’t enough, and soon you had not one or two, but three fingers, which were the closest sensation to his fingers that day, stretching you just like two of his fingers did.

When you put all those fingers inside the echo of your wetness got louder, pushing him to continue with the way his hand was moving before, swiftly pulling his cock like your delicate hand would do, with those pretty fingers around him and those beautiful eyes looking at him.

‘’How many do you have in?’’ he asked curious, because it was impossible just one finger was making that nasty noise.

You didn’t want to tell him how many, it was so disgraceful for a girl to use that many fingers, at least you believed that.

You cried again because something so degrading was feeling so good.

‘’Tell me.’’

He wouldn’t stop asking, you knew it, he would respect your silence in any other occasion, but not in this one.

‘’…Three.’’

‘’Shit, getting ready for my cock.’’

‘’Anton.’’ You called for him, flustered with his statement, and pushing your fingers even more with that idea.

He was big, you felt it that day, even just over his pants you could feel how much he would open you, your three fingers were nothing to get that, they had to be his fingers to stretch you enough to accept him.

‘’You’re about to cum, right? I already recognize that tone’’ he was pumping harder his cock, following the intensity of your squelches and how your hand was more erratic, ‘’fuck, and I’m not there to feel your mess, my angel.’’

You repeated his name in loud moans, grateful that you were completely alone, and his groans became as loud as your moans, reciprocating your enthusiasm.

He bit his lip with force, back falling with force to his pillow, picturing you moaning right over him like you did that day, and while thinking about you, and listening to your actual cries, he came all over his hand in thick spurs of cum.

You also came, a lighter sensation than when he fucked you so good with his fingers, but still good enough to make you feel relaxed again.

After days of not being able to cum you didn’t realize how tense you were, maybe that was why you were so thoughtful and couldn’t sleep even when you felt so tired.

Both of you stayed like that for a good time, recovering after all those days away.

‘’I missed you so much’’ Anton said when your mind was drifting away.

Me too, you thought, but didn’t say it.

‘’You’ll see me this Monday…’’

‘’I’ll buy you something.’’

‘’If you buy me something, I swear I’ll punch you.’’

‘’Oops, I think I’d like that too.’’

You laughed, not hiding it this time, and fell asleep while hearing his soft laugh on your ear.

When you saw him on Monday you punched him, not hard though, because apart from the couple of his t-shirts he gave you, he bought you a small bouquet of flowers to show how sorry he was.

fourth visit ↬ fifth visit ↬ sixth visit (tba)

[anton-luvr]

hi! could i request for boyfriend!anton helping fem!reader sleep and study for her exams as she has a really hard time sleeping due to her stress and anxiety levels

congrats on 400! ♡

# HERE FOR YOU.

⚝ bf!anton x fem!reader | fluff & angst | college au, bf au ⚝ note ; i havent written a fic in a while, so i hope this is okay!! thank u sm anon i hope you enjoy this <3 + if anyone's stressed from exams rn, don't be! make sure to take good care of yourself and just try your best. you got this! ^_^b

You really hated Biology.

You're not even quite sure why you decided to take the subject when you've always struggled with science.

But with your finals taking place tomorrow, there's not much time for you to mourn over your terrible decision.

Mumbling to yourself, you read through your textbook for what felt like the hundredth time in the past hour.

Horror sets in when you realize you still don't understand most of the things you're reading - like what the hell is deamination?

Groaning, you rest your head on the table with a heavy thud.

You were never going to pass this test.

Tears start to fill your eyes, rolling down your cheeks as you bury your face in your hands.

You didn't mean to cry, but sobs start to escape you as anxiety rises in your chest.

Why couldn't you understand it?

Were you not smart enough?

What if you were the only one who fails in the entire class?

But those thoughts were shaken right out when the door slams open, startling you.

"Babe, what's wrong?" Anton asks, rushing over to your side.

The moment you feel the warmth of his arms around you, you burst into tears again.

"I'm never going to pass this exam!" you sputtered, tears streaking your face and nose filling with snot. "I'm gonna be the only one who fails!"

Anton's heart shatters at your words, pain biting at his chest when he sees how exhausted and stressed you were.

But he lets you cry it all out in his arms first, soft kisses pressed to your head to remind you that he was there for you.

When your sobs slowly turn into sniffles, he gently pulls away from you.

"Hey, look at me." he calls, tucking your hair behind your ear.

You look up reluctantly, slightly embarrassed at the thought of what a wreck you probably looked like right now.

"Don't worry so much about it," Anton assures. "You're going to go in there tomorrow and try your best. That's all that matters. And even if you fail, it's fine. At the end of the day, grades are just silly letters on a piece of paper."

You nod, too tired from all your crying to give a verbal response.

"And I think your health matters so much more, hm?" he continues, wiping a stray tear away gently. "You look so tired."

You didn't just look tired; you really were tired.

"How about we call it a night and get ready for bed? Your exam's in the afternoon tomorrow, so we can wake up early and study a bit more before you go for it." Anton suggests.

You'd say no, but sleep sounded so tempting right now.

So without any protest, you let him pull you up and lead you to the bathroom, hands interlaced tightly.

"My pretty girl." he sighs, kissing you on the cheek as he sets you on the bathroom counter.

The compliment makes you smile for the first time that day as he starts up a warm shower for the both of you.

When you're done, you let him help you change into your favorite hoodie set - which was all nice and warm because he threw it in the dryer just before you started your shower.

And like the absolute angel he is, Anton lights up your favorite scented candles and disappears into the kitchen to make you a mug of hot chocolate, a heart made out of whipped cream floating on top.

"Feel better?" he asks, massaging your shoulders while you finished your drink.

You hum a 'yes' in reply, pressing a quick kiss on his hand. "Thank you. I was a mess just now." you mumble, embarrassment keeping your eyes glued to the floor:

Anton scoffs at this, kissing you on the lips. "No need to thank me." he mumbles, kissing you again. "I'd do anything for you."

His words make your cheeks flush red as he takes the mug from you, disappearing again into the kitchen to pop it into the dishwasher.

By the time he's back, you're already snuggled under the covers in bed with your eyes shut.

Quietly, Anton dims the lights and gets in beside you.

"You worked so hard today." he whispers, carding his fingers through your hair. "I'm so proud of you. I'm sure you'll do great tomorrow."

He seals his words with another kiss on your lips.

"I love you." you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck while you moved closer into his warm embrace. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

He tuts at this, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

"You'll never have to worry about that, because I'll always be here for you." he promises.

You thank the stars for blessing you with the sweetest lover ever as you eventually drift off to sleep, safe and secure in Anton's arms.

© anton-luvr, 2023.

taglist: @wonbons @mxlly143 @keehobaldboy @shawyle @yenart

[snoopyana]

one day.

the prequel.

“who’s truly to blame when it all came crashing down?”

so gone, over them. you had cut all contact, because truthfully it had left you in a state of despair. falling victim to such a cruel scenario. but who’s fault is that? it had taken you so long to even start to recover, and it took him five words to get through to you.

song eunseok or park wonbin??

smut, angsty, inner monologue(it’s just me)

i got carried away with the colors, forgive me.

you wanted to be able to say it didn’t affect your life, but it did. he changed your life. and you were still struggling to accept it. finding yourself getting jumpy at the mere thought of him. of them. some part of you had hope that he’d come back and apologize. but something deep down told you to just forget it. forget the one night that left you undeniably scarred.

but who exactly did you want to see?

eunseok or wonbin.

whilst unpacking groceries, the silence consumed your mind as your hands gripped onto a few boxes. you had thrown some of his favorites into your cart subconsciously. placing them in the back of the pantry, you continued to unload the products. it was late, around 10PM. opting to do late night runs to avoid the crowds. and to lower the chances of seeing him. it seemed like after it all happened, he was everywhere.

no, they were everywhere.

as you placed items into your fridge, a knock rang through the apartment. no one was supposed to swing by. who would swing by at this time? placing whatever you had in your hands onto the counter, you made way to the door. cracking it open just enough to see who was there, assuming they were at the wrong door.

“hello?” you spoke through the crack, looking up to meet his gaze and in that moment — it was almost as if the world stopped spinning. was he really at your door? what did he possibly want from you? there was silence, a ringing in your ears as you held your breath. staring at his face. a face that you desperately tried to forget, but couldn’t.

“can i come in?” he spoke in a whisper, your grip on the door left your knuckles a faint white, letting his words float around your mind. “no.” a no so shaky that it could compete with a 7.9 earthquake, and win. your face also being so hot, steam was practically coming from your cheeks.

nodding his head, he took a moment before speaking, again in a whisper — not wanting anyone to hear. “i’m so sorry for showing up out of the blue,” giving you time to process his words before continuing, “i just felt like we’ve pushed this whole thing off for far too long.” it made you mad that he was right. you hadn’t spoken to anyone since then and it’s been doing more harm than good. eating you alive every second of the day.

and he knew that.

“no we don’t. there’s nothing to talk about .” lies flowed from your lips. come on now, really? you had nothing to say to him? eyes fixated on the ground beneath you. you hadn’t even spoke to sungchan, shotaro, anton, the fucking list goes on. but they probably know what happened by now. wonbin was always one to talk about what happened in your relationship..

he searched for his words, his usual chill demeanor being replaced with one of guilt. guilt overcoming his sense as he tried to put together the reason he was here without sounding like a complete loser.

he was there to beg for forgiveness.

staring down at you, the male took in a shaky breath. “i don’t have all day.” lifting your head, eyes scanning his face, he finally spoke. “i’m gonna be honest with you, i was gonna say it was all my fault, but we need to stop lying to ourselves.” he stopped, conjuring up his next set of words , “everyone took advantage of the situation. and you just couldn’t control yourself.” as he spoke, he thought about what happened that night. but all you could think about was how he’s attempting to blame you for your misfortune. yeah, you knew what had happened was wrong. but you weren’t in the right state of mind. and he knew that.

five months prior.

“this is your fault by the way. should have gone home.” eunseok spoke while standing along side a wide-eyed wonbin. he was crying. you had never seen him cry before. watching as he sniffed, tears rolling down his reddened cheeks. your eyes drifted away from his face, and down to his clutched fists.

was this really happening?

your mouth was dry, hands clammy as they rested on your sides. the silence was fucking sickening. “hurry up, we’re going home.” was all he said, slamming the vehicles door shut. in that moment you realized just how bad it was looking for you. reaching for your pants, talking could be heard through the door. just loud enough for your ears to catch onto some of the conversation.

“why didn’t you just take her home”

“what can i say? golden opportunity”

“golden opportunity? oh my god. you’re fucking insufferable.”

“she’ll get over it.”

you in fact, did not get over it. actually, you did the opposite. wonbin breaking it off and you seeking pure isolation. it was a turning point in your life.

and you were now a rock stuck in a hard place. standing in your doorway, fighting back tears as you took in his face. but who was he?

oh, it was eunseok. didn’t i mention that? wasn’t it obvious?

wonbin wasn’t the one who used you to get off in the back of his car, now did he? wonbin wasn’t the one who used your fragile state of mind to get you to trust him, now did he? it was all eunseok.

and it was now eunseok who was staring down at you, waiting for an answer. only a minute or two of silence had passed, but you were quick to spiral. shallow breathing quickly morphed into staggered gasp for air. “I couldn’t control myself?” even while ‘apologizing’, he still found a way to blame you. he managed to still be an asshole. what’s next?

is he gonna try and find a way to be a hero again?

“yeah, you should have chased after him or something.” he rocked on his heels as he spoke. hands stuffed into his pockets, eyes wandering around. is he serious? how can he take something so important and make it seem like it’s nothing?“you would probably let it happen again. but i wouldn’t be the one to do it, because i care for you. you know that, right?” and here we go again.

it was bound to happen. it started with tears running down your face at his words, specifically his little ‘because i care for you.’ stumbling back into your home and he’d followed. hugging your body, holding you tight. maybe a little squeeze to reassure you that he’s here for you. rubbing circles on your back, moving small pieces of hair that clung to your face. using the back of his hand to wipe. away. any. tears.

sound familiar?

because it should. who knew he’d be one to reuse his tactics so soon. leading you into your own living room to sit down and most importantly — calm down. but there were no others to surround you now. it was just him. sinking into your couch, pitying yourself for breaking down so easily. again. his hand oh so gently rubbing the skin on your leg. but you couldn’t find it in yourself to tell him to stop. maybe because you didn’t want him to. wow, but who am i to judge?

it was silent. it was almost always silent when it came to eunseok. but his silence said so much while saying absolutely nothing at all. but everyone has to break their silence every once and awhile.

“do you forgive me?” well? do you? don’t be scared, tell the truth. because it determines how this ends. say no and he might go home. say no and he might try and persuade you into a yes. say yes and he might laugh at you for being so forgiving. say yes and he might leave satisfied. say maybe? we don’t know what might happen if you say maybe.

try it.

“maybe, i’m not sure.” bingo. you got him. his hand came to a stop, digesting your words. “maybe?” your eyes drifted towards his direction, meeting his gaze. confusion written all over his face.

“you lost a lot of my trust back then, so yeah. maybe.” his hand came up to wipe your face, but you were quick to swat it off — using your own palm at an attempt to comfort yourself. but his felt better.

“and i’m here to try and get it back if you let me.” if you let him. as your mind processed his sentence, guard down, he was quick to jump at the opportunity.

another golden opportunity.

eunseok wanted that maybe to be a yes. and it would be, with a little gentle touching. a few more sweet words, maybe a kiss here and there. gently gripping onto your jaw, his hand on your leg tightening around the flesh. forcing eye contact, his lips mere inches from yours. he waited for resistance, any sign of backing out. but you didn’t give him a single reason to pull away. it’s pathetic really. weren’t you just crying a moment ago?

eunseok was quick with it, his lips clashing with yours — letting his weight slightly fall onto you. basically pinning your body against the arm rest and the cushions. your throw blanket slipping onto the floor with the sudden movements. shivers darting up your spine when his fairly warm hand, that was situated on your jaw makes its way under your shirt. slipping over your cold stomach. in response to the sensation, your muscles tensed and your hands were quick to grab onto his wrist. in response, eunseok pulled away.

“too much already? bet you would have killed for this the first time around.” he couldn’t go more than ten minutes without making another snarky remark. but who were you to complain? pushed against your own furniture by a guy you had sworn to stay away from. a small slap on your stomach made you come back to. “asked you a question, i know you aren’t that dumb and can answer for me.” shaking your head, your hands slowly returned back to your sides, now focused on keeping your body up.

his hands continued to venture your body — something they couldn’t do months ago. leaving small kisses on your neck and any other exposed skin. god, this felt so wrong. but this time it was for a different reason. biting back any and every moan or whine that threatened to slip past your lips.

“can i take these off pretty?” the way he switched from so mean to so sweet was sickening. oh but you loved it. “yeah..” was all you could muster up. raising your hips, eunseoks’ fingers tugged at the waistband of your shorts, slipping them off your legs and onto the floor. adjusting his position, one leg planted on the floor, the other sinking into the couch — the male hovered over you. his hair fell into your hair as he looked — no, stared — at your panties. a small wet patch already present. his fingers dragging along your clothed clit. hands clinging onto his shirt for dear life. it wasn’t much, but it was enough.

slipping the fabric to the side, he slowly pushed his middle and index into your hole. the thickness of his fingers combined with the small circles he traced onto your stomach was mind altering to say the least. not once did he look at your face while he worked his way inside. halting his movements — just long enough to give you time to adjust. one of your now horribly shaky hands made its way to his face, moving the hair that blocked his eyes, only to be greeted by a half assed smile and heavy eyes.

“you wanna see me so bad. what happened to not even being able to look me in the eyes?” he cooed at you, whilst his fingers sped up. ramming into you at a brutal pace, a choked up moan escaping from your throat. curling his digits to hit that spot just right. tears blurring your vision, the pleasure too much to handle.

you were so close already, but it’s barely been 3 minutes.

wrapping your arms around his neck to push him down, lips aligned with his ear. “ ‘m gonna cum. slow down..” all he did was laugh and to your dismay — the fucker only got quicker. “go ahead, let it out. this is to make up for what i didn’t give you last time.”

the filthiest, guttural moan filled the air as you came. gripping around his fingers, hands clenched in his hair.

“is that maybe, a yes now?”

note- yeah i just dropped a pt.2 outta no where. why? because i got the motivation to be active. hope it didn’t disappoint. maybe. maybe. maybe.

[wrenhavenriver]

Top 5 dishonored NPC lines?

ohhhhhhh this one is so hard, the incredible amount of really damn good NPC dialogue is one of my favorite things about dishonored and probably THE number one thing i love gif'ing the most from it. i have to exclude Outsider lines from here to give anyone else literally any chance, but i spy an Outsider specific ask in my inbox rn so thankfully there's that sorted. instead of spending five hours agonizing over the literal dozens of lines i love here are some random ones that came to mind immediately from base game dh1, in no particular order:

Samuel: "Maybe it's not my place to say, but men of the faith shouldn't live like barons." there's just something so samuel about it, the coating of dignified humility around a center of utterly unimpeachable morality. it sums up so well his role as a quiet observer/arbiter of the actions of the people around him--and how he often goes unnoticed by those very people, in part because of that humility and the way the powerful look down on him as a working class man (see the bastard trio, especially havelock, wildly underestimating him--when he can remember his name at all). there's a reason it stings so hard when samuel finally calls a high chaos corvo out in mission 9, like, this man just sees straight through to the heart of matters (and people), and he is never wrong. but on the flip side, that makes it just as amazing in low chaos when he praises you instead.

plague survivor in the flooded district: "I don't blame them. I know why they did it. But I only wanted to die at home." this brutal line. unbearably poignant. a man who wasn't even asking to live, just to die at home, and how even that tiniest of mercies was denied to him.

on a lighter note - Miss White: "You're a scandal in that mask. I like a man with poor judgment!" makes me laugh every fucking time, 928340923 playthroughs later.

Sokolov: "Once you start ordering people killed to get your way, everything else becomes mere detail." stealing my own very ancient tags from the old blog to explain why i like this line so much: this is essentially dishonored's main cautionary message and it falls to anton sokolov to say it, goddamn. in short it's a snappy bit of writing and also just kind of funny who gets to be the mouthpiece for it--really says something about how dire things have become in dunwall.

Daud: "And you choose mercy. Extraordinary." just. gives me terrible shivers. the awe of it all. the recognition of the incredible, impossible choice corvo has made. indescribable.

[bestbonnist]

Chapter 170.4

My favorite thing is when I say something and am proven dead wrong a week later. I know there's an easy solution to this and it's to stop trying to predict immediate plot points, but I can't help it. It's my forbidden fruit.

OK, like.... to be fair to myself it's still possible that she was still drugged because I can't think of any reason why she would have had to fake that. As a distraction so they could escape, maybe?? But she seemed a bit annoyed that everyone left. The more interesting thing is how she was able to escape so casually. No one was worried about her at all, they knew she would have no trouble getting out... But I could be embarrassingly wrong again, the details will be ironed out eventually.

The name "Anton" really doesn't fit him... it'll take a while to get used to. Going forward, I'm curious to know if Kaibara will let him become an employee despite the fact that Tonari's now gone or if they'll make him redeem himself first.

Side note: I love that Ooima insists on continuity for the stupidest things. The bird microphone was just a joke so that Bon could act like a celebrity being swarmed by journalists in a time period where microphones weren't invented yet and it's still here....

FnAe is a Very Serious Drama.

I don't think Tonari ever went by "Tonari Dalton," but this is nice confirmation that she's remembered by the place where she lived with her friends instead of by her father. Part of Tonari's character development in the previous era was going from hating Jananda and wanting to leave to taking over and protecting the people there the way she wasn't protected.

Kani's dream has been fulfilled :) His search for an owner was really a search for someone to care for him. He and the doll are like siblings now... wait no. He and Fushi are like siblings now. I hope Fushi turns into a cabbage crab and scuttles around with their new little brother.

[twistedtummies2]

The Price May Be Right - Number 18

Welcome to “The Price May Be Right!” I’m counting down My Top 31 Favorite Vincent Price Performances & Appearances! The countdown will cover movies, TV productions, and many more forms of media. Today we focus on Number 18: Irontail, from Here Comes Peter Cottontail!

Whenever one thinks of the holiday specials of Rankin/Bass, one typically remembers their multitude of animated Christmas cartoons, such as “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” “Frosty the Snowman,” and “The Year Without a Santa Claus.” However, Christmas was not the only holiday Rankin/Bass played with. They also did several specials related to Easter, for example. By far the most famous of these Easter specials was “Here Comes Peter Cottontail!”

In this Easter classic, Vincent plays the role of a villainous rabbit by the name of January Q. Irontail. He is the scourge of the otherwise peaceful April Valley: a magical place that is to Easter Bunnies what the North Pole is to Santa Claus. It’s revealed that, years ago, this black bunny had his tail skated off by a careless child. He had it replaced with an iron bell, and this – apparently – is the reason he has become “a terrible, wicked, nasty rabbit” by the time the story begins. Irontail is the sworn nemesis of the titular Peter Cottontail (played by Shaggy himself, Casey Kasem); when he learns that Peter is about to become Chief Easter Bunny, he plots a scheme to take the role from him, so that he can remake the holiday in his own horrible image. Funnily enough…Irontail actually succeeds! A combination of Peter’s own faults and Irontail’s trickery leads to Irontail ending up the one who gets the promotion. However, thanks to the help of the magician Seymour Sassafrass, and a caterpillar named Anton (both played by Danny Kaye), Peter is able to use a time machine called the Yestermorrowbile (yes, really) to try and fix things. Irontail is wise to Peter’s own plan, however, so he proceeds to do everything in his power to prevent Peter from reversing things, which leads to a chase across the calendar into every single holiday. I’m just going to come out and say it right now: while Vincent Price was known for being a hammy actor (even by his own admission), this is by far the single most over-the-top performance I think he EVER gave. This is Price’s equivalent to Jeremy Irons in “Dungeons & Dragons,” or Tim Curry in “Freakazoid!” It’s a performance so completely and utterly INSANE that it becomes absolutely spellbinding in its wild intensity. Price isn’t just chewing the scenery behind the microphone, he is ripping it into bloody chunks and gulping them down whole. I am astonished the studio he was recording in didn’t just EXPLODE from the sheer level of lunacy he puts into every single SYLLABLE he utters throughout this whole special. It’s largely due to Price’s zany yet diabolical performance that Irontail becomes as memorable as he does. He’s easily one of my favorite villains from the Rankin/Bass canon: how many other Easter specials give you a villain who makes allusions to Poe (and kind of looks like a rabbity version of the guy, now that I think about it), and lets out peals of maniacal laughter while roaring at the top of his lungs, “THOSE EGGS ARE DONE FOR!!!” One way you can tell what Price did for the role is by looking at the (awful) sequel-by-the-same-name, which came out in 2005. By then, of course, Price was long gone. So, who did they get to play the role of the utterly demented bunny? Bond himself, Roger Moore, who plays the character with totally cool and calm sophistication. Normally, I would be okay with this, but in the case of Irontail? NOPE. YOU FAIL. Tomorrow, the countdown continues with Number 17!

[hoonieyun]

faq & rules

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ rules

my content is generally 18+ so MDNI whatsoever and i put a warning for certain themes etc

please don't spam my ask or messages i do have life outside of tumblr

don't be disrespectful, if you have a critique or comment to leave; don't be an asshole, it's free to be kind

feel free to send requests however, if i'm not taking requests please don't demand for it to be written or spam me asking when it will be written

if you're leaving a request don't be rude lol

although i read about certain heavier more adult topics, i unfortunately don't typically write those things, but that may change who knows

most if not all my content will be written with the perspective that y/n or "reader" is a woman and has she/her pronouns. unless i state that the reader or y/n uses specific pronouns or is of a specific gender, it's fair to assume that the perspective i'm writing in is in the perspective of a woman who uses she/her pronouns but feel free to request content that uses other pronouns, i'm not opposed to it!

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ faq

who do you bias?

nct mark johnny

enhypen heeseung + 02z

riize eunseok anton

who do you write for?

i will pretty much write for any group that i like, however, they are mostly boy groups (sorry i am unfortunately straight TT) but with that said here is a short list of groups i like and if you ever want to ask about a certain group pls dont hesitate!

nct - txt - riize - bts - enhypen

i also don't write for anyone 5 years and younger. i'm born in 00 to anyone born 05 and after, i will not write for.

what themes do you write for?

usually angst because those are my favorite but there will be the occasional romance, fluff, horror, action, whatever i really maybe feeling or what a request may call for. if there is something im uncomfortable writing, i will simply decline or say so.

how often will you post?

tbh i have a fairly busy life out outside of tumblr. i write when i feel like, usually in the middle of the night, and when they get finished i post them the morning or afternoon after. however, since i do have other priorities and responsibilities that doesn't always mean i will be writing or posting.

over the course of this year i have been battling with mobility issues in my hands and this past june i was diagnosed with arthritis, making it hard to use my hands and other parts of my body because they often will get inflamed and lock. i've gone through some different treatments and medication and have gotten to a place where i feel i can continue writing as long as i make sure to take care of myself.

❀

if you have anymore questions please don't hesitate to send me a message ˏˋ here ˊˎ

[whiskehorange]

Ahh!!! I saw Anton Chigur on your list!!!! Could you write of him going to his ex-wife who is a nurse when he is banged up?

p.s., absolutely in-love with this prompt

Anton

"Well, would you look at that? Who could possible be at my doorstep at this hour?"

Anton had nothing to say, especially no emotions to show. Not even a bit of shame for waking you up on your day off. Your schedule hasn't changed much from when the two of you were together anyways, it's not like you still instinctively give him your updated schedules for times like this

You and Anton had been together in a few months for your own good. not only did the two of you quite literally never got to spend any time together, you figured the reason Anton decided to end things was mainly because of his duties, not your hours

The love was still lingering, especially with this not being the first time he's stopped by for the occasional fix up. Yet you'd let him in every time, which let him known it was okay to do so

"What are you doing out here this early in the morning, Tony?"

The amount of conversation and nicknames Anton let slip out of your mouth regularly was surprising, but then again you were the only person he couldn't bring himself to let go. You're beauty and understand has him wrapped, and it still does

It was clear that he needed attention to the massive cuts and bruises that lined his face and especially his nose. Routinely, he made his way into the kitchen and sat down at the table while you pulled out your "at-home (Anton only) medical kit"

He would have been a favorite if he attended the actual hospital by the way he sits so still, not moving an inch unless you tell him to. Winces are little to unnoticeable and not a groan slips from his mouth. He can't tarnish his tough guy mentality with you, what if you won't take him at your doorstep anymore? He knows better

"I think you need to be more careful."

"I think you'd be right."

Seeing your Anton covered in gashes like this were still hard to face, but the trust he had in you made it better. You frequently though about him when articles of killings would come on and hoped that it wasn't him, or just hoping that he'd show up for tending to

There was more blood than anything on his face, so by the time it was wiped off the minor cuts had ceased bleeding and the biggest cut was thoroughly stitched. The bridge of his nose was bruised but not broken and you knew that he would take the bandage off as soon as he'd make it out of the door. He will always be stubborn for you

"I'm not going to ask how you did this, I watch the news, but you better start investing in maybe some Band-Aids to throw in your pocket or.. whatever you carry around these days. Then maybe you won't show up to my house like a little puppy anymore, Tony"

You truly the only person who could call him Tony as get away with it

"I'll look into it."

There was the smallest smile of amusement on his face that reminded you of his humanity, the little of it he had left. Bending down, you placed the softest kiss on the bridge of his nose and sent him on his way

Maybe, just maybe, he'd stop back for a checkup like every good patient is supposed to.

[a-simple-gaywitch]

“I’m SO Fired”

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer falls in love with Dave Rossi’s adopted daughter

Word Count: 2038

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of brutal case, mentions of death of parents, that’s it. it’s mostly fluff

“Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” -Anton Chekhov

~

Spencer was leaning over Emily’s desk, helping her with some details of her paperwork. He glanced up and noticed a beautiful woman briefly talking to Anderson before entering through the glass doors. 

“Reid. Reid!” Emily said, snapping her fingers to get his attention. 

“What? Oh, sorry.”

Emily shook her head. “And just like that, 187 gets slashed to 60.”

The woman walked over to the desk with the two. “Uh, hi,” you said. “Is Dave Rossi here?”

“Oh, um, he should be here. Did you- do you have a meeting with him?” Spencer asked. 

“Kind of,” you said with a small laugh that made Spencer’s stomach flutter. “I’m-”

“(Y/N)!” Hotch said when he saw you. 

“Aaron!”

Emily and Spencer exchanged glances as you gave Aaron a brief hug. 

“Are you here to see your dad?” he asked you. 

“Yeah, is he here?”

“He should be in his office. How long are you in town?”

“Just the weekend,” you said. “But I’m coming back in June for vacation.”

“Well, I’ll let you go see your dad,” Hotch said. As you walked up the stairs, he turned to see Spencer gawking at you. Emily looked at Hotch apologetically. Hotch sighed and said, “Reid, focus on your paperwork, not (Y/N) Rossi.”

~

You knocked on the office door, waiting to hear your father’s voice. 

“Come in!” You pushed open the door and your adoptive father’s face lit up. “Tesorina!” he said, getting up to kiss your cheeks. “I was wondering when you were getting in. How’s work? And what about that boyfriend of yours? Anything-”

“Dad,” you said, cutting him off. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know at dinner. But you promised you’d introduce me to your team the next time I was in town.”

“I did promise that, didn’t I?” he said, pushing up from his desk. He slung his arm around your shoulder and steered you out of his office. The team was gathered in the bullpen, and they all turned to face Rossi when he cleared his throat. “Guys, this is my daughter, (Y/N).” He then introduced each team member to you, save for Aaron.

“Wow, Rossi, I didn’t know you even had a daughter,” Morgan said. 

“Gee, Dad, you don’t talk about me to your coworkers? I’m hurt,” you said, pressing your hand over your heart. 

Rossi rolled his eyes. “Drama queen.”

“So, you’re a Rossi?” Emily asked you. 

“Not biologically. Dave adopted me when I was five,” you explained.

“Initially, I was just fostering her for a little while, but I fell in love with this little rascal,” he said, ruffling your hair.

You set about fixing your hair. “Well, I gotta run. See you at the house for dinner?”

“Yeah, I should be done around 6. Don’t get into trouble.”

“Me, get into trouble? When have I ever been known to do that?” You shot a wink at the man you now knew to be Dr. Reid before leaving the BAU.

Spencer’s cheeks turned pink and he felt Rossi’s eyes on him. He looked down at his desk, busying himself with organizing his pen cup. When he heard Rossi’s office door close, he let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. 

Derek rolled his chair over to Spencer’s desk. “You’re looking a little flushed there, Pretty Boy. That wouldn’t have anything to do with Ms. Rossi, would it?”

“Shut up, Morgan,” he muttered, focusing on folding a small piece of paper on his desk into even smaller squares.

~

Dave walked into his house (mansion) to the smell of garlic bread and tomato sauce. He smiled and set his coat on the rack by the door. 

“You know, I would have cooked!” he called as he made his way to the kitchen. You were setting the table for the both of you. 

“Yes, but how often do you actually cook?” you asked him as you poured two glasses of red wine. “You’re always away on cases, I know how much fast food and takeout you eat. Now shut up and enjoy my carbonara.”

Dave chuckled and sat down at the table across from you. “So, how’s work going?” he asked you. 

You shrugged. “You know, there’s good days and bad days. We had a brother and his little sister get adopted together this week, which is always one of the big wins for us.”

He nodded. “What about that boyfriend of yours, Chad?”

“Oh, we broke up,” you said. “About a month ago.”

“Good, I didn’t really like him.”

“Dad, you say that about every guy I date.”

“And it’s true, I haven’t liked any of the guys you’ve dated.”

“Yeah, the only guys you’ve liked have been the ones you’ve tried to set me up with.”

“That’s not true!”

“Dad, remember Stephen?”

“I thought you would be a good match, honest. And before you say it, it’s not just because I’m overly protective.”

“So, we can admit you’re overprotective of me?” you said. 

“Of course I am. And can you blame me?”

“I guess not,” you said with a shrug. “And you could be worse. I could still be living here.”

“Oh, come on. Would that be so bad, having a huge house mostly to yourself?”

“Well, no, but I like living in Pennsylvania,” you said. “And I like having an apartment.” Your father gave you a skeptical look. “Stop profiling me.”

“Sorry, it’s hard to turn it off.” He took a sip of his wine. “You’re planning to go to the cemetery tomorrow, aren’t you?”

“I do every year, you know that.”

“Yeah. They’d be so proud of you, you know.”

You smiled down at your plate and pushed the pasta around. “I know. I, uh, I don’t have many memories of them anymore,” you said. “But the one I’ve been trying to get rid of is still there.”

Dave reached across the table and grabbed your hand. “Hey. Your parents loved you, so much. That’s all you need to remember, okay? They loved you so much that they sacrificed themselves for you.”

“Yeah.”

You lost your parents when you were five. There was a serial killer in the Greater DC Area, a family annihilator. He’d called himself the Orphan Maker. The man would seek out young families with kids no older than 8 and kill the parents first, in front of the children. Then he would kill the children. 

Rossi had been on that case, and had found that your family was the next target. Unfortunately, they did not get to your family before the man killed your parents. But fortunately, they caught him before he could get you. 

Rossi felt guilty they didn’t make it in time. When the law officers found that you didn’t have any family to take you in, Dave offered to bring you home. The plan was to originally just be a foster parent to you until CPS found a place for you to stay officially. But he fell in love with you. You were a little spitfire, a little troublemaker. Dave adopted you and dedicated the rest of his life to taking care of you and protecting you.

~

“Hey, Rossi!” Morgan said as he met the man in the kitchen to get coffee. “How was your weekend with (Y/N)?”

Rossi noticed Reid’s back straighten at the mention of (Y/N)’s name. He smiled to himself, a plan forming in his head. It was a bit of a convoluted plan, but it would work out for everyone in the end. 

“Oh, it was fine. She made me watch an episode of that show Reid and Garcia like.” He glanced over at Spencer’s desk and noticed he was listening intently. “I agreed since she’s still recovering from a recent breakup.”

“Is she okay?” Derek asked. “I know breakups can really suck.”

“She’ll be okay, she bounces back quick. I didn’t like the guy anyway. He was a meathead jock who thought being the high school quarterback was his entire personality. I want her to find a guy who’s smart and kind, someone I like.” He walked out of the kitchenette and passed Reid’s desk. He clapped his shoulder. “Morning, Reid.”

~

You were back in the area for a week-long vacation, and Dave had promised to go sight-seeing in DC with you. 

You walked into the bullpen and were greeted by Penelope, who had quickly become your friend. She wrapped you in a hug before Rossi made his way over to you. 

“Hey, Dad. You ready to go?” you asked after giving him a hug.

“Um, actually, I have to work late. But, you know, Dr. Reid here,” Spencer’s head snapped up from where he was packing his bag at the mention of his name, “knows more about the area than anyone I know. He can show you around. Right, Reid?”

Spencer looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure.”

You smiled at him and Spencer felt the butterflies that were already in his stomach go crazy. The two of you walked out of the office, Spencer nervously gripping the strap of his bag while you walked alongside him. 

Penelope looked at Rossi narrowing her eyes. “You don’t have to work late.”

Rossi smiled. “No.”

Penelope gasped. “You’re trying to set them up, aren’t you?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny,” Rossi said before walking back to his office. 

~

“So, Dr. Reid,” you said as the two of you walked out of the FBI building, “I heard you’re a huge Doctor Who fan.”

Spencer turned to look at you, losing his footing and tripping on the sidewalk. He straightened himself up and cleared his throat. “You, uh, you can call me Spencer. And yeah, I’m-I’m a fan.”

You smiled and Spencer thought the sun had come out again with the brightness you radiated. “Who’s your favorite? Personally, I’m a Tennent girl, but Baker is a close second.” Spencer was staring at you, his jaw dropped. “What?”

“You might be the hottest girl I’ve ever met.”

~

When Spencer woke up, the first thing he noticed was the beautiful woman asleep next to him, her head on his bare chest. He smiled and ran his hand through your hair as you started stirring.

“Morning,” he said as you looked up at him, resting her chin on his chest. 

“Morning, Pretty Boy.” You saw his smile falter and his eyes go wide. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m so fired,” he said. “I slept with my boss’s daughter. I’m so fired. No, I’m more than fired. I’m dead. Rossi is going to kill me.”

“Hey. Spence, breathe,” you said, cupping his face in your hands. “He’s not going to do anything to you. And if he tries, he’ll face my wrath.”

Spencer chuckled. “Well, after that guy drove through that puddle and splashed you last night, I believe it.” He was silent for a moment as the two of you sat up in the bed. Spencer wrapped his arms around you, pulling your back to his chest. “What are you going to tell him when you go home?”

You shrugged, leaning your head back. “The truth. I got to know a sweet guy last night and I stayed the night at his place.”

Spencer smiled and gave you a soft kiss.

~

You slipped into the Rossi Manor, feeling like a teenager missing curfew again. You got about halfway through the kitchen before hearing Dave clear his throat. You spun around to see him standing by the kitchen island with a cup of coffee. 

“Oh, uh, morning, Dad.”

“So, you were out all night.”

“Yep.”

“And you’re wearing the same clothes.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Who is he?” When you didn’t answer, he said, “Spencer?”

Your face paled. “How did-”

“You didn’t really think you could hide that from an old profiler, did you?” He handed you the mug. “Don’t worry, I approve. I’d be more than happy to have Spencer as a son.”

“Dad!”

~

“I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.” - J.R.R. Tolkien 

[alj4890]

I got an ask we know Riley gets kidnapped by Anton but what if Anton was in love with her and he didn’t wanna kill her but makes her his. What if Olivia killed Claudus for shooting drake.

I love the way you think, Nonny! I actually would have eaten this up with a spoon if that had happened in canon. To be honest, I really liked Justin in book 2. If he had been a new love interest, I would have done a play through just to see what happens if Riley chose him 🤦🏻 Of course then we find out he is behind all the bombings and such so...oops, LOL. When I first saw your request, I made an aesthetic with just Justin/Anton and Riley in mind. I completely forgot to add a definite OTP of mine, Drake and Olivia, to it. Smh. The story though will definitely include them along with Riley and Justin. I am so tempted to turn this into a series 🙊

@gkittylove99 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight @lodberg  @amandablink @neotericthemis  @mm2305 @sfb123 @iufilms

Masterlist

True Intentions

It had happened when he had not been paying attention. It shouldn't have happened at all. He had one goal. One mission. Nothing had ever come to mean more to him than that. Nothing. No one.

Until Riley.

He knew he shouldn't have spent so much time with her. He shouldn't have helped Maxwell in picking the right dresses for her. He shouldn't have stuck around to see her come out of dressing rooms, an excited smile upon her face, as she twirled around for them to give their opinions.

It had taken all his will power to keep from telling her what he truly thought. Riley's beauty was simply stunning, not because of her outer loveliness, but more that he saw her inner beauty shining through each trial she faced. Her strength amazed him. Her wit brought a smile to his face. Her kindness touched his heart.

It made him begin to long for things he shouldn't. They shouldn't be a part of any dream or plan he had.

And yet...she was beginning to crop up in his thoughts. In his dreams.

In his plans.

He winced as he tried to get comfortable.

His plans hadn't exactly gone as he had hoped. In fact, he should have talked to his men and explained that Riley was not to be a target.

Thank God for Drake. If he hadn't jumped in front of her, she would have been taken from me.

His lips twisted in another painful grimace.

"Are you in pain?"

Justin looked up and tried to smile. "Just a little."

His nurse shook her head. "I told you to buzz before it got too bad." She gently checked his wound.

"I don't want to be a bother." He mumbled.

"You aren't." She patted his hand. "You aren't any trouble at all." Her nose wrinkled. "We had a few nobles cause unnecessary problems when the attack happened."

"Really?"

She rolled her eyes. "Some were knocked down during the chaos and demanded they be admitted."

He chuckled softly. "Sounds like something they would do."

"It's a shame that good people like you were seriously hurt while those spoiled nobles try and take all the attention." She readjusted his covers after administering some more pain medication in his IV. "I don't know why King Liam is so hellbent on bringing them back to court."

"What do you mean?" Justin tried to fight the effects of the pain medicine. "What's he doing?"

"He and Lady Riley are going on some type of tour to some of the major houses to personally invite them to their wedding."

His brow furrowed.

A unity tour. That would work on these small minded individuals. It was a smart move. The public were already Team Riam. Once the royal couple convinced the most powerful houses to come to their wedding, all the other minor lords and ladies would follow suit.

"Well played, Liam." Justin's eyes drooped closed. "Well played."

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

He couldn't believe that they not only convinced Madeleine's entire family, but also somehow got all of Portavira on their side.

"What's the plan?" Claudius asked.

"We need something big to remind everyone that we aren't a one trick pony." Justin told him.

He looked out the window. Leaves were beginning to change with the first hints of autumn in the air.

A hint of a smile appeared as a plan began to form.

"It would be a shame if Cordonia's apple orchard had a bad year, wouldn't it?" He eyed his second in command.

Claudius chuckled. "It really would."

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

Justin watched as every channel showed the devastation of the orchard near Applewood. He couldn't help but smile over Riley making the people love her even more for her righteous anger. Her promises to bring those responsible to justice along with making the orchard bigger than before made him nearly burst with pride.

She had grown into her role more so than he had ever imagined. Gone was the timid young waitress from New York who uttered no comment when reporters surrounded her. She was a confident woman now who could think on her feet.

Justin thought she was more attractive than the first time he had seen her floundering in front of the cameras, in desperate need of a hero. It hadn't been a bother to rush to her side then and put his arm around her. Her wide eyes had lifted to his and he had nearly melted from her beauty.

He still couldn't believe that she forgave Liam for choosing another over her. Granted Madeleine impressed him with how she could manipulate reporters into spinning a story to her advantage, but Riley was so many things that the cold countess was not. She deserved better than what she got.

And he planned on giving it to her.

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

A week after the orchard burning, he turned to see the one rarely far from his thoughts.

"Justin!" Riley rushed over to engulf him in a hug.

"How's my favorite media darling?" He asked.

She leaned back and gave him that smile that was brighter than flash bulbs. "Much better now that I know you're recovering." She playfully glanced about before whispering, "Save me from Madeleine!"

He laughed as he hugged her once more. "I don't know. I've seen her work and can't find fault with it."

Riley pouted. She linked her arm with his as they walked down the hospital hallway. "I prefer your guidance to hers." Her nose wrinkled. "It's weird being told how to act by Liam's former fiancée. I know there wasn't anything between them, but still."

Justin patted her hand. "Tell you what. If Madeleine is unable to do her job or you decide to fire her, then I will gladly step back into my old position." He dug around in his pocket for the earpiece she had used during Liam's engagement tour.

Her smile reappeared. "Old faithful."

"I'm always Just-in-time." He teased.

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

It had been too close. He hadn't expected Riley to go anywhere near Constantine. And there she was, by Liam's side, graciously accepting some necklace from the old man who had destroyed her initial happily ever after.

His heart had nearly stopped as he watched rubble fall around them. Riley had frozen in fear over Liam's safety. It was a nightmare come to life as pieces of the wall and ceiling began to collapse.

At least one good thing had come from this: one king was dead.

It sadly wasn't the king he needed to die.

Justin began to plan how he would comfort Riley once Liam was gone. He wouldn't have to tell her it was he, himself, who orchestrated his death. But he would make certain to enjoy the benefits of it.

His eyes narrowed over another slight problem he had.

He was going to have to kill his own wife too.

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

Lythikos...

It had been almost too easy. Madeleine was already in need of a distraction after hearing Liam gush over how excited he was to marry Riley in a few weeks. Once she requested a fruity cocktail, he knew then that the poison could go undetected taste wise.

The bartender left to go replenish the champagne. Madeleine's irritation over having to wait on a refill was drawing attention.

"Here." He grinned at her. "Allow me to make you another."

Her eyes widened. "Aren't you that press secretary that helped Riley?"

"I am." He began to mix a strong cocktail for her while adding the poison, all right under her nose. "And I must say you are the best I've ever seen."

Madeleine's irritation disappeared over the compliment. "I am, aren't I?"

"Riley's lucky to have someone so knowledgeable in ways of both the court and public like you." He added.

"Yes, she is." Madeleine muttered. "I'll do anything for my country, even if it is a thankless job."

"You should be recognized for your sacrifice." Justin handed her the deadly drink.

"Yes, I should." She took a gulp.

"How is it?" He asked.

"It's the only good thing here." A tipsy grin appeared on her face when she saw Riley. She grasped Justin's hand and pulled him in her wake. "Let's go say, hi."

"Boooooo!" Madeleine giggled when Riley turned around. "It's the ghosts of press secretary past and present."

"The what now?" Riley lips trembled with suppressed laughter as she looked up at Justin for clarification.

"I'm the ghost of press secretary past." He winked at her.

"OoooOooo!" Madeleine swayed where she stood.

"Whoa, there." Riley tried to steady her. "You okay?"

"She's had a little too much." Justin mimed drinking.

"It's a party!" Madeleine slurred. "It's in the worst place ever but it's a party and I'm going to...going to..."

"Enjoy it?" Riley offered.

"Extractly!" Madeleine's brow wrinkled over that not being the right word. "Expactly?"

"Exactly." Justin corrected.

"That."

The crowd quieted around them when Olivia took the stage to offer a final toast of the evening to Liam and Riley's wedding.

"Woo!" Madeleine cheered.

Riley and Justin tried to shush her.

Her giddy smile fell as her rosy cheeks drained of color. "Somefing's not..."

"Madeleine?" Riley lost her grip on her when she swayed violently to the right. "What's--"

Madeleine hit a table, causing the plates to clatter and the vase of blood red roses to fall over.

"I hate this place." She collapsed on the floor.

"Madeleine!" Riley dropped to her knees and tried to bring her to. "Liam! Mara! Come quick!"

Justin stepped back as the two came to see what was wrong. He watched as Olivia made her way through the crowd to find out what the all the fuss was about.

"What's wrong with her?" Riley asked.

"She's been poisoned." Mara whispered.

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

Justin loved seeing the delighted surprise once more on Riley's face when he said he would take over Madeleine's duties for the rest of the tour. It would have been a perfect moment if Liam had not been standing there. He was ashamed to think of his nearly giving himself away when he panicked at the sight of Olivia walking in behind him.

He wished Lucretia would quit trying to push Olivia into going into the family vault. She had a sick sense of humor in wanting her niece to discover she was already married. For some reason, she did not approve of the way her niece depended on her friends for support.

Justin knew the power friends could have. Had he not been trained by his own parents' friends, he wouldn't be the worthy man next in line to the throne. His comradery with his own men inspired their loyalty and willingness to die to make him king.

He needed to distance himself from Lucretia the moment they got out of Lythikos.

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

She was supposed to come alone! Why did she bring Riley? I can't kill her. I need her. I deserve to have a choice in the one I want ruling by my side. The people already adore her, much more so than they admire Olivia. I was supposed to become free of this marriage. Once she and Liam are dead, I'll be able to be king and have--

"Justin?" Riley's eyes were clouded with confusion as she looked first at a picture of him dressed in a royal uniform. "What is this?"

"I'm sorry, Riley." His voice cracked on her name.

Justin reached in his pocket and pulled out a revolver.

Lucretia cackled with glee as she told her niece the truth about her marriage.

Justin stood there silently as the woman he loved shook her head in denial.

She's so incredibly sweet to doubt a friend could be the bad guy. I hate that I can't pull her away from all this and simply explain why I should be the ruler of Cordonia. I deserve it. I worked for it. My entire life was made for me to take the crown. She would be able to understand that. Look how far she's come in her own life. Who could imagine a waitress from some dive bar in America would come to be the next queen of a small European nation?

"Do it already!" Lucretia hissed. "Shoot her!"

He couldn't do it. Even as he held the gun steady, pointed directly at the woman he loved's heart, he couldn't shoot Riley.

"Get away from her!" Liam ordered.

Justin spun around to see the king and guards filling up the narrow passageway.

"I thought you said this was secure." Justin snapped at Lucretia.

"It was." She held her hands up in surrender.

Justin watched as she stepped forward, pretending to stumble.

His eyes widened as once again his love was trapped within a collapsing room.

He managed to see her safely end up in Liam's arms before escaping through a hidden passage.

He left Lucretia to the guards. She had served her purpose and was sadly of no use to him any longer. Now he could plan what he truly wanted to happen.

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

Liam and Riley's wedding day...

"I don't care who you kill. Olivia and Riley are to be taken alive." Justin told the small team of men he was sending in. "If you have to wound them to get them here, make certain Riley's is non life threatening.

He ignored the questioning look Claudius sent his way.

"Bring them both to our stronghold." His eyes narrowed. "Do not fail me."

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

Later that night...

"Good work." Justin straightened his jacket. He wanted to look his best when he saw Riley again.

Claudius smirked at him. "Just think of all the men we would still have if you had let me go alone."

Justin chuckled. "True, but at least we are free of our weakest links." He smoothed his hair back. "Now take me to our guests."

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

"I know the real Justin is somewhere in there." Riley leaned as far forward as her bindings allowed. "You helped me gain the love of the people. You know that if you kill me, the people will not readily accept you as king."

He couldn't help but smile. "I know and that is why I don't intend to hurt you."

"Then why kidnap us?" Olivia demanded.

He turned toward her. "If I'm to be king, then I have to take the necessary steps to claim the throne." He motioned for Claudius to come in.

"You're the one who shot Drake!" Olivia shouted, struggling against the ropes biting into her tender skin. "You'll regret that."

"And you tried to kill me!" Riley added, narrowing her eyes.

"That was a mistake." Justin quickly said. "You were never to be harmed."

"Then why all the attempts?" She asked. "Why do you persist in--"

"You weren't supposed to be here, Riley." He knelt down in front of her. "You should have stayed in New York until the time was right"

Her eyebrows drew together. "What are you talking about.

Justin asked Claudius to remain with Olivia while he took Riley somewhere private.

"If you think for one second that I will remain with this man while you take her away go do only God knows what," Olivia's chair creaked at her straining to break free, "then you don't know what a Nevarkis is truly made of!"

Justine rolled his eyes over her rant as he untied Riley from her chair. He kept her ankles and wrists bound together. He swept her into his arms and carried her out.

Olivia's shouts were silenced by the sound of a hard slap.

Riley struggled in Justin's arms. "What did he do to her? OLIVIA?!" Tears streamed down her cheeks. "Justin, please don't--"

"Nothing's happened to her." He took her into a surprisingly clean, yet drab, sitting room.

Riley was dropped on a chaise lounge. She eyed the door then Justin.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He repeated. He gently cupped her cheek, fingers brushing along her jaw line. "I love you too much to ever harm you."

Riley stilled. She looked up at him. "You what?"

He knelt before her. "I'm in love with you. It didn't hit me until you told me you had accepted Liam's proposal on the train. I didn't plan it, but I refuse to hide my feelings any longer." He smiled at her. "You've proven yourself as the rightful Queen of Cordonia. Once Liam and Olivia are dead, you and I can rule this country as we see fit. We'll--"

Riley shook her head. "Justin," she believed he was deranged and knew she had to handle this carefully, "I'm flattered. Really I am. I mean, we both know I would never have gotten this far without you."

His smile grew at her realizing she owed him for her meteoric rise within the court.

"But if you kill Liam and Olivia, the people will not feel any love or loyalty for you." She tilted her head as she studied him. "Surely you see the problem with this plan."

"People respect power." He explained. "They respect someone who fights for what is rightfully his. Since my birth, I have been meant for something greater. My parents, Olivia's family, even my soldiers realized that I alone am worthy to rule over this country." He focused once more upon her. "And I've seen that you are the one to do so by my side."

Riley shook her head. "Justin, I am honored," her voice cracked on that lie, "to have your love but I can't accept it." Her eyes filled with tears. "I'm in love with Liam."

"Riley, he didn't choose you." Justin argued. "He left you on your own to fight against nobles, the press, even his own father. You deserve so much more than being an afterthought."

Tears slipped down her cheeks once more. "That wasn't what he did. He was trying to protect me. And I--"

He leaned down and kissed her.

She froze at the touch, refusing to participate.

"Once Liam's gone, you will see the truth." Justin promised.

"I won't." Her eyes narrowed. "As long as I live, I'll hate you with everything within me for taking him from me."

"You don't have it in you." He shook his head in amusement. "You've forgiven everyone. Olivia, Penelope, Madeleine, even Constantine. You never hold a grudge."

"You'll be my first." Riley vowed. "Liam is the love of my life. If you ruin my chance to finally be with him, I will never forgive you. As long as there is breath in my body, I will find a way to destroy you."

"You are amazing." He murmured, knowing she was speaking from her heart. He couldn't wait for that devotion to be for himself.

"Anton?"

The two turned to see Claudius in the doorway. "Liam should be here any moment."

Justin nodded and told him he would meet him and the rest of the men downstairs.

He lifted Riley in his arms and placed her back in the cell with Olivia.

His wife had the bruised imprint of Claudius's hand on her alabaster cheek. Blood had dried on her bottom lip. No tears had fallen from the force of the hit. Her left eye was bloodshot as she glared up at him.

"Liv?" Riley choked out. "Are you--"

"I'm fine." Her harsh answer echoed in the chamber. "It will take more than some two bit thug to hurt me." Her eyes did a quick scan to make certain Riley wasn't hurt.

"If you will excuse me, I have to go prepare for Liam's last night on earth." He retied Riley to her chair.

She threw her head back with all her might to connect with his face.

His glasses broke from the force of her strike. Blood poured out his nose as he stumbled away from her.

"Don't ever," his voice dropped to a hiss, "do that again, my love." He gripped her chin and jerked her face up toward his. "You will learn how to behave soon enough."

He slammed the cell door and left them alone.

"Did he hurt you?" Olivia whispered.

"No." Riley bit her bottom lip. "Not yet."

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

"Where is my wife?" Liam demanded.

Justin couldn't help but be impressed. The young king was standing before him, completely outnumbered, yet didn't show the slightest flicker of fear.

He asked the one question that he himself would have asked if Riley was taken from him.

"She is well." Justin replied. "Which is something I can't promise about your own well being."

"I want to see her." Liam bit out. "Now!"

Justin's chuckle was interrupted by a hastily whispered message from Claudius. His head jerked around to search the dim hallway as if doing so would reveal the missing prisoners.

How had they escaped?

"You don't get to make demands here." He snapped at Liam.

"Let Riley and Olivia go." Liam ordered. "And I will take their place." His eyes narrowed. "I know it is a temporary one."

Justin couldn't help but smile. The man was indeed brave to trade his life for Riley and Olivia's.

"No!" Riley screamed out from the stairs.

Chaos broke out as she led the charge to attack the Sons of the Earth. Justin watched as she ran over to protect Liam's back.

The couple were doing their utmost to protect the other from harm.

Their friends were taking his well trained soldiers out one by one. It was embarrassing to see how pitiful his men fought.

Olivia moved into his line of sight. Fury blazed across her delicate features.

"I'm impressed." He told her, unsheathing his sword. "I should have searched you myself."

"Trust me." Olivia circled him. "It will be the last mistake you'll ever make!"

She lunged at him. He easily parried her attack. "I think you've forgotten that it was your parents who gave me the same training you had."

"I think you talk too much!" She twirled about, bringing her daggers up to stop his sword from meeting her shoulder. He grunted from her heel piercing his leg as she pushed off to break his hold.

They continued to try and deliver punishing blows to the other. She was desperate to kill the man who was after her friends and country. He was anxious to be free of their marriage.

He noticed from the corner of his eye Claudius and Drake fighting. His second in command stunned the commoner with an uppercut to his jaw, causing Drake to stumble back into a wall.

Olivia heard the scuffle and followed Justin's line of sight. Her face paled at Claudius moving towards Drake to end him once and for all.

With a flick of her wrists she not only slashed Justin but threw her other dagger at Claudius. It struck true along the side of his neck, cutting into his jugular. He let out a garbled scream as he fell to the floor.

Justin hissed at the deep gash she had made along his ribcage.

Seeing that it was a lost battle, he hopped the banister and began to rush upstairs. He would have to go into hiding once more before orchestrating another attack.

"This ends now!" Riley yelled out at him.

He spun around to see both her and Liam rushing toward him. He raised his sword, determined to put an end to the man who stood between him and the throne. He hesitated when Riley jumped in front of her husband.

"You're not taking him from me!" She raised her battle ax. "Every time you try, I will stop you."

Does Liam know how lucky he is? She waited on him to choose her. Twice! And now she stands here, ready to defend him to the death. How could any man not fall in love with Riley?

His refusal to fight her was his downfall. He was pushed over the banister by the royal couple. While his breath was knocked out, Maxwell and Hana bound his hands together behind his back.

He looked about at his fallen and captured comrades. His attention was drawn toward Olivia and Drake. The pair were covered in blood and bruises, yet they were leaning against each other. Drake had his arm around her while softly speaking. Whatever was said caused Olivia to press even closer to his side. Her arms slipped around his waist. Her eyes were closed tight as she allowed him to hold her.

Justin had suspected something more between the pair. It looked like his coup for the throne had accomplished something for them.

Bastien and the rest of the King's Guards rushed in. After talking to the king and new queen, he collected Justin and hauled him outside.

On the way, Justin met Riley's eyes.

There were so many things he wanted to explain to her. He believed she would have been on board with his plans for the kingdom. Once he had killed Liam and Olivia, he would be the benevolent king the country needed. Gone would be the purpose for pompous nobles. He would have established a council of Cordonia's citizens from all walks of life to advise him. People would be rewarded and honored for their service instead of simply being born to the right parents.

And she would have been his queen, guiding and protecting all she deemed worthy.

"Riley, I..."

"You will never ever hurt those I love again." She hissed.

"Take him away." Liam ordered, keeping his arms locked around his wife. "He will be dealt with in the morning."

Justin knew then that it was pointless to try and explain. She would never give him a chance after all that had occurred.

For the first time in his life, he realized that his intentions didn't matter to the one he loved most.

[therenlover]

Orestes Fasting and Pylades Drunk (A Young Revolutionary!Zemo x Non-Binary Reader Oneshot)

(a/n: so, in honor of barricade day, have this young revolutionary!Zemo fic, which is basically just canon Enjoltaire dynamics but with a Zemo/reader twist on it, because that dynamic is literally my whole heart. Consider this a weird twisted Les Mis au if you want to, but you don’t need to know the book or musical to enjoy this, if it can be enjoyed...) 

Synopsis: Helmut recalls the story of how he came to be the ruthless man he is and, more specifically, how he came into possession of his strange purple mask. 

Tags: Canon Compliant, Angst, Young!Zemo, Non-Binary!Reader, Death, Enemies to Friends With Benefits to Lovers????, Implied Sexual Content, Friendship, Pining, Revolution, Speedrunning A Slow Burn

Rating: M (+16) 

Warnings: Major Character Death, Implied Sexual Content, Gun Violence, Drinking, Minor Homophobia/Transphobia (it’s one sentence near the end and it’s very vague coming from Heinrich), Swearing, Survivor’s Guilt, Really Just Death Everywhere

Word Count: 10,200~

“What’s with the mask?” 

The question was innocent enough.

Sam posed it while lounging on the expensive couch of Zemo’s Riga apartment, head tilted back and eyes closed in silent contemplation. 

Bucky remained silent as Zemo glanced over from his place at the counter. Outside, the sun was long gone, giving way to a stunning moonrise over the city that poured through the stained glass windows and lit up the night with its glow. It was quiet, much quieter than things usually were between the trio. Still, things being quiet didn’t mean they weren’t tense.

Clenching his teeth, he took in a long breath through his nose. “I am unsure what you mean by that, Sam,” 

“The mask,” Sam pushed, “you know, the one you wore during the fight in Madripoor. What’s the deal with that?” 

“Ah yes. That mask,” As if on cue, Zemo took a long swig from his glass. It burned all the way down. He didn’t speak again, though, instead choosing to let his gaze fall on the elaborate tilework above his countertops, tracing the patterns with his eyes. Anything to divert himself from the thoughts that rushed back into his mind at the thought of the knit piece of cloth that sat firmly in his inner coat pocket. 

Unfortunately for him, Sam wasn’t satisfied with letting the topic fizzle out. “Come on man,” he griped, rubbing a hand over his face, “we got you out of prison, so you owe us one. In fact, you owe us a lot. So, spill. What the hell is the deal with it? Were you Sokovian batman or something?”

That urged a dry laugh from the baron’s lips as he set his crystal glass on the counter with a little more force than was necessary. “Are you always so interested in your captives’ personal lives?” 

“Usually,” Bucky chimed in dryly. 

“I suppose I’m outnumbered,” Zemo sighed. The bile rising in his throat was easy enough to force down as he turned himself out on his stool to face the room. It wasn’t the right time for true weakness, not yet, but he couldn’t deny that painting himself in a desirable light and offering the pair honesty might give him the upper hand. So, he folded. 

Slowly he retrieved the purple mask from his coat and turned it over in his hands. It still fit after all the years it had sat gathering dust in his storage unit which was a blessing in its own right. It still served its original purpose too. That mask had seen horrors beyond imagination, had been washed clean of blood more times than could be counted. Did it hold the memories of the things it had seen within its fabrics as Zemo did in his mind? Or was it as naive as he had been at the time of its creation? He let out a bitter laugh. That was a question they would have asked him. 

As he exchanged his literal mask for one entirely emotional, Zemo leaned back on his stool and managed a smile. “How educated are you on Sokovian politics?” 

Sam shut his eyes again, letting his head lol back once more. “I went to public school, so I don’t think I even knew Sokovia existed until it didn’t,” 

“I know enough,” Bucky added. From his place leaning against the way, ever vigilant and ready to jump into an imagined battle, he turned to face Zemo and crossed his arms. “Hydra had fingers in the government there, more so than other places. There was a big power struggle in the ’90s when the king died, right? Because people wanted democracy, and they didn’t want the little shithead prince to take over,”

“Yes,” Zemo nodded, “My cousin Emil. I’m glad you’re familiar,”

 A spluttered laugh escaped Sam’s lips as he shot up. “I know I shouldn’t be surprised by this stuff anymore, but damn,” 

“He and I weren’t close,” Zemo waved his hand dismissively, and yet there was a strange sadness in his eyes. It wasn’t for his cousin, though. Not in the least. “But James was correct, there were riots in the streets when the king died. They were shut down quickly by the National Guard, though, who had more than a little help from Hydra’s favorite supersoldiers once they realized just how much power the citizens held. What street were you assigned to, James?” 

Bucky sucked in his cheeks, eyes falling to the floor, but before Sam could butt in and defend him he had muttered an answer. “I cleared the barricade at 18th Avenue, the second largest. Those kids fought valiantly,” 

Zemo hummed lowly. “And so they did,” 

“Okay, what does any of this have to do with your stupid purple mask?” Sam exclaimed.

He was sitting up fully now, face turned to where Zemo had stood from his stool and begun to round the bar. His mask still sat in a small ball on the marble. It seemed to be a member of the conversation all its own, silent and sure, drawing all three men together as it weaved a story from the past into the present with its very presence. 

“That mask served me well and hid my identity when I stood against the very men that were serving my family,” Zemo muttered, letting his fingers brush the fabric gently. The names of the lost sat heavy on his very soul even if they would never pass from his lips. 

Hans, Andrei, Ivan, Vladimir, Anton, Lazlo, Nicholas, little Sebastian… 

Y/N. 

“I was young then, too young for my own good,” he said softly, “naive and hopeful and convinced that the world was able to change for the better if I simply willed it to be… so when I discovered the connection between my family and Hydra I packed up my things, emptied my bank account, and moved into a tiny apartment with another like-minded friend, Hans Perlitch,” a soft laugh escaped him, genuine and youthful and all too honest, “We preached to the hungry masses of a world free from the thumb of the elite and all the while we would return home to a heated apartment and a stocked pantry. Still, we were well-liked and gathered a bit of a following. That was when everything changed, the early fall of 1997…” 

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

“You know, for someone who claims to be as smart as you say you are, you’re quite a fool,” 

The voice came from the back of the room, smoke still hanging thick in the air from the cigarettes shared by the masses of students that had packed the tiny repurposed stockroom of the bar while Helmut had given his speech for the week.

He didn’t give the interloper the dignity of his full attention as he gathered a few of his scattered notes from the table that served as his soapbox. Still, he was in a generally good mood. Almost double the usual students had shown up for the meeting and a few had even chimed in to ask questions, so he took a deep breath and resigned himself to the fact that rooting out one ignorant opposer now would mean less work in the long run. “I’ve never claimed to be smart, so I’m not quite sure what you’re referring to,” 

A scoff came from the back of the room, but the person made no effort to come closer. “You can change your last name and present yourself as a member of the public all you want, but someday someone is gonna recognize that pretty face of yours, and your whole revolution is going to come crumbling to the ground,” 

Now that was enough to make him pause.

“How did you-”

“How could I not?”

It was sardonic, biting and harsh in the worst of ways. Everything about the tone made Helmut’s blood boil beneath his skin. He was not one who enjoyed being threatened or outdone. Still, the play was out of his hands now, should this strange intruder choose to ruin him. 

Biting his tongue, he finally turned to face them. “You have my attention, now what do you want?”

Across the room, the stranger remained unphased. They were relatively unremarkable, a bottle of cheap beer held firmly in their grip as they toasted to nothing and drank down the remaining dregs. With a smile and a chuckle, they propped their feet up on the small, round table before them. Something about that sight lit a fire in Helmut’s chest. He didn’t know who they were, or why he was there, but he was certain that he despised them already. 

“I don’t want anything,” They replied, and with a certain grandness reserved for a gamin mocking the bourgeoisie, they flourished with their hands, letting their booted feet drop to the ground as they stood and bowed. “I’m just saying that if you’re trying to convince people that you’re not the missing baron while you’re pretending to be all impoverished and rallying us commoners, you might want to change more than your last name and your fashion sense,”

Helmut gritted his teeth. “So what? Did you come here just to rub my face in it, or are you going to help me make a change?” 

That elicited a small snort from the stranger, but they did take the opportunity to traipse up to meet him at his table, leaning on the edge as they gazed up at him with a strange look in their eyes that he couldn’t quite identify. Their face was soft upon closer examination, alive and bright with a merriment that only came from intoxication. It made Helmut sneer involuntarily. 

Licking their lips, they murmured, “Make a change? Is that what you think you’re doing?” and as they let a giggle escape their parted lips Helmut lost it. 

He gasped them firmly by the front of their baggy sweater and dragged them in close. “At least I’m trying! What are you doing about it? Extorting the only person who might be able to actually make a change in this shithole of a country? That’s so much more helpful!” 

Their faces were inches apart as Helmut spat his words like venom and yet the stranger never stopped smiling. It was almost dopey, the grin that made its way across their lips. Helmut couldn’t stand it. 

“You know, baron,” they purred, setting down their empty bottle on the table beside them, “I like you. I might just stick around here for a little while, see what else about your little plan I can pick apart,” 

Never in his life had Helmut been less thrilled for someone to join his cause. 

“Why are you here anyway,” he groaned, releasing their shirt, “don’t you have something better to do with your Friday night than bother me?” and, as an extra jab, he added, “besides drinking yourself to death, of course,” 

The jab didn’t land, though. 

Taking it all in stride, the stranger simply grinned as if they too knew how badly they stank of cheap alcohol and was thrilled that someone had noticed. “Anton invited me. He said I should get out more, make some friends. It’s just a coincidence that I happened to recognize you while writing down an itemized list of all the things you got wrong while you grandstanded,” There was a pride in their words, a giddy energy burbling just beneath the surface of their skin, and suddenly it all made sense. 

Anton was newer to their group, a poet and a free thinker, something hard to find in the slums of Novi Grad. Still, he lightened the impromptu meetings up with his smile and would often spend the hour scrawling away fervently in his notebook as he immortalized each and every word that was said “for posterity”. Helmut was sure that only someone as accepting as Anton would ever choose to spend their time with someone quite as insufferable as the person before him. Suddenly, and uncomfortably, he became aware that he didn’t even know their name. 

Swallowing down a nasty barb, Helmut sighed and offered up his hand, which the stranger took after a moment of pause. “And you are?” 

“Y/N,” They replied.

“Well, Y/N,” he spat their name from his mouth like a cherry pit, “I suppose I’ll have to get used to having a man like you-”

“Don’t call me that,” 

Helmut cocked his head to the side. “Pardon?”

“Don’t call me a man,” Y/N replied, “and before you ask I don’t want to be called a woman either. I’m just… I’m just Y/N, at least for now I am, it’s not like I’d give a rich brat like you my legal name while we’re mixed up in all this illegal, halfway-treasonous nonsense you insist on spouting. Maybe next week I’ll be something completely different and new. Until I tell you otherwise, though, I’m just Y/N, your highness,” 

“Do I dare dream that that means you might learn to respect my ideas?” Helmut sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face and choosing to ignore the sarcastic address in the hopes of letting such things fizzle and die without encouragement. Unfortunately, the goofy grin he got in return told him that was wishful thinking. 

Suddenly, the door opened and Helmut jumped away from his newest tentative ally (if you could call them that) to find Hans standing in the doorway. At his side was Andrei, the third in command of their little posse and final member of the leading triumvirate. They seemed shocked at his lateness and he was quick to try to gather himself up lest they see him as undone as he had found himself while facing the smallest taste of Y/N’s antagonistic nature. 

What had he even been doing when they interrupted him? It took him a moment to even gather himself together enough to remember. Scanning the room, his eyes fell on the papers 

Oh yes, he had been gathering up his notes…

He was quick to finish the task as Y/N sauntered away towards the door, preparing to push past the two men who stood beyond it. 

“You’re Anton’s friend, right?” Hans asked, back stiff. When Y/N nodded he did little more than give a noncommittal noise from the back of his throat. He had always been good with making things impersonal as he crunched the numbers and calculated probabilities. That was why Helmut liked him so much. 

Andrei, on the other hand, provided a needed warmth to their leadership in his outreach. 

He smiled warmly at Y/N and clapped a hand on their shoulder. “I hope we’ll be seeing more of you around,” 

Y/N was quick to offer one of their signature grins before winking back at Helmut in a way that made his stomach turn. “Oh, you’ll be seeing plenty of me from now on,” 

“We’re glad to have you,” Andrei replied as they passed. 

Before they fully left, though, they turned one last time to shoot Helmut a final smile. “Till next Friday, fearless leader,” 

Then, Y/N was gone, lost in the crowd of revelers beyond the small, smokey storeroom and, more importantly, beyond where Helmut’s eyes could follow. Somehow, despite everything, he missed having them there. He quickly chalked the feeling up to wanting to keep a close eye on people with the ability to thwart his best-laid plans and left it at that. Besides, he had no room in his heart for anything besides the betterment of Sokovia. 

Attachments meant the possibility of other priorities, and other priorities got people killed. He couldn’t have that happening on his watch. 

Thankfully, Hans snapped him out of his melancholy quickly. “Do you have everything sorted?” 

Helmut gave a short nod before tapping the pile of papers against the table and setting out towards the door, abandoning his thoughts and feelings about his interaction with Y/N at the table as he exited the room and gathered himself once more into the man his friends needed him to be. 

He could only hope that as long as he ignored Y/N’s jabs, they would soon grow tired and be gone within the month once they realized he was anything but afraid of their little games. 

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

Much to Helmut’s abject disappointment, Y/N did not, in fact, stop showing up. 

They did quite the opposite. 

Instead of leaving him well enough alone, they showed up to Helmut’s meetings every single Wednesday and Friday for months, always piss drunk and happy to jeer at him from the corner, shouting their unwanted opinions and throwing off every meeting with their nonsense.

It was as if they did it just to get on his nerves, and get on his nerves they did.

As the seasons changed, from spring, to winter, to fall, and, finally, to the very beginnings of summer, so did the types of jabs Y/N decided to throw. 

In the beginning it was all business, comments on the idiocy of his plans for a protest based on common police routes or mocking jokes about his unending optimism when it came to fighting the national guard on a large scale, but as things began to get more and more serious on the path towards a full-fledged revolt, they seemed to aim more and more of their vitriol towards Helmut personally.

Sometimes it was a comment on his face or voice. “Ease up pretty boy,” they’d jeer, “keep talking like that and a guardsman might just do more than knock out a few of your perfect teeth,” Other times, which Helmut found infinitely worse, they’d throw a jab at his ability to lead them to victory. “The only thing that waits for us at the end of this is a painful death, especially if you’re not joking about those fucking super soldiers they supposedly have on ice,” 

The worst part was that half the time, Y/N was right. 

Helmut hated to admit it but it was true. More than once he had to go back and edit his plans to take into account a valid point thrown in by Y/N that he had never even considered. Hell, if it had been anyone else picking him to nothing he would have been grateful, but it wasn’t a well-meaning contributor trying to make the world a better place, it was a drunk who seemed to have one solitary life goal: making his life as miserable as possible. Perhaps that’s why they had devolved to frantic angry fucks behind crates of wine and massive cans of chocolate spread after the worst of their arguments…

Not that Helmut cared for them. 

No, he didn’t do attachments. Neither did Y/N. They hated each other, after all. 

It was just a way to release their tensions at the end of stressful meetings and nothing more. They were dealing with matters of life and death after all. It was only normal to seek comfort in the warmth of a companion, if he could even call Y/N a companion.

Whether he liked it or not, though, they were they to stay, even if they rarely made themself useful to the cause.

By early June, the drunkard had become close friends with all of the remaining students that still gathered at Helmut’s location for meetings instead of ending up at the offshoots that began to form once the group got too big to pile into the storeroom. Helmut loathed thinking about it, but Y/N was probably invited to more birthdays and Saturday night get-togethers than he ever was. There was something about their smile that drew people in. It made them feel wanted, welcome. Helmut hated that he never got those smiles from Y/N, only ever the mocking, blithe kind that they handed out freely to friends and enemies alike. 

He didn’t have time to think about that, though. Not with so much fast approaching as the first pears began to hang from branches down in the royal orchards, soft and ripe and ready to be harvested. Their growth marked King Hugo’s daily weakening. His death could come any day, and when it did, Helmut knew he would need to strike quickly if he truly hoped to overturn the system before the coronation of his cousin. That meant every meeting, now more frequently held throughout the week, was filled to the brim with preparations and planning. 

Well, preparations and planning and a healthy dose of Y/N and Helmut yelling at each other about nonsense across the room until Anton or Laszlo stepped in to pull Y/N down into their chair once more so the meeting could resume and they could all go home before things got too late and they were questioned in the street on why they were possibly out and about at such an hour.

Things were no different on that Friday meeting on June 4th. 

“Is there anyone here who isn’t already passing out pamphlets in the dorms at NVU tonight?” Helmut asked the room, scanning for a hand that didn’t belong to his least favorite member of the group. Unfortunately, none came up. “Come one now, at least one of you has to be free,”

Y/N groaned. “It’s like you don’t even see my hand waving up here, oh great one,” There they went again with the ridiculous terms of address that made Helmut’s blood sizzle in his veins. He remained composed, though. At least, as composed as he could be given the situation.

“I’m ignoring you because I remember the last time I asked your drunk ass to pass out pamphlets. What round of dominos were you on by the time I showed up to check on you, five or six?” 

The scalding remark was enough to get Y/N to sheepishly lower their hand, eyes downcast. It was getting easier and easier for Helmut to manage to shut them up the more frantic meetings got, and he couldn’t say he was displeased by that fact no matter why it was the way that it was. A quiet Y/N meant less chance for mistakes which meant fewer future casualties. Fewer casualties were good, it was what he strived for. 

Thankfully for Helmut, a new hand came up. 

It belonged to Vladimir, the oldest of the group by a year rounding out at an even 26 years old. He was dependable, definitely the kind who could be trusted to run an errand as important as the one Helmut needed to have done. The thought that Vladimir would be the one to pick up the shipment of smuggled guns was a relief. He made as much evident while explaining their next moves. 

Throughout the remainder of the meeting, though, Helmut couldn’t help but feel watched. It didn’t last long, half an hour at most. Still, there was the creeping itch on the back of his neck that told him there were eyes on him that he wasn’t aware of. Only when the group was dismissed and the feeling didn’t go away did he realize exactly who was staring at him so intently.

“I hope you know I really did intend to hand out those pamphlets,” Y/N said once they were the last one remaining, the rest of the group having trickled out to get food and drinks before heading home for the night. It wasn’t unusual for Helmut and Y/N to be the last two remaining at the end of a meeting. That didn’t mean he was happy about it though. 

So, instead of offering up an acknowledgment, he busied himself with plotting out a few potential spots to barricade the roads and hunker down when things got messy in highlighter on the large, laminated map of Novi Grad that had found its home on the big front table.

Y/N didn’t let up, though. They never did. “I know you don’t believe me, why would you, but I did. I just wanted to loosen them up before I started talking about overthrowing the damn government, which is a terrible plan, by the way. Have I told you that lately?”

“Only every time you see me,” Helmut sighed. 

Somehow, that made Y/N smile, soft and sarcastic and all too honest. Helmut didn’t know how they managed it. Secretly, he envied their neverending veracity. He’d never say that though. No, not while they crossed the floor and offered up a large bottle of whiskey. 

“A drink, dear leader?” 

“Absolutely not” He griped, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How many times do I need to remind you I don’t drink?” 

“Too many,” 

“For once, I agree with you,” 

A laugh passed through Y/N’s plush lips and, regrettably, Helmut couldn’t help but look up at them and relish in the sight. Their hair was a bit longer than they usually grew it out, a particularly unruly piece tucked behind their ear. Helmut hated that he noticed little details like that, despised the way he had come to know the soft dip of their cupid’s bow and the warmth of their palm. It was still Y/N, after all, for better or worse. He couldn’t help but allow himself those small recognitions though. It made him feel human, or something close to it. 

Still, all good things must come to an end, and they did when Y/N decided to speak again. “You know, the longer I show up for these stupid meetings, the more I think you’re actually gonna try to go up against those bastards,” 

Helmut should have known the barb was coming, but perhaps his better nature, if it truly existed, prevented that. Nevertheless, he sighed into his hands as he dropped his highlighter. “If I didn’t intend to actually try to change things, why would I have spent the last year of my life living in a shitty apartment and putting up with you?”

“You’d be surprised the things people do and never finish. Not everyone is as driven as you are,” Y/N huffed. They were quick to seat themself on the table once Helmut wasn’t actively working over it, smearing the highlighter away on their corduroy pants. “Nobody would blame you if you did tap out, you know. There are plenty of ways to make a change that don’t involve trying to take down the entire local Sokovian military force until they decide to give you what you want,”

“The changes we could make without a revolt wouldn’t really be changes, they’d just be the illusion of changes. You know that as well as I do,” Helmut replied with a groan. 

Two of the fingers from Y/N’s free hand, the one that wasn’t gripping their bottle like a lifeline, pointed towards the closed door behind them. “Is living under our current system and knowing they have fingers in a few less-than-savory organizations really worse than leading all of your friends to their deaths?” 

That struck a nerve in Helmut’s chest.

“And who says that has to be true?” 

“Come on, oh benevolent and giving baron,” Y/N’s voice was light yet pointed, like a million minuscule particles of glass flying through the air, “Do you really think we’re all gonna make it out of a fight with the big guys? And even if all of us do, can you say the same for the poor kids fighting where we aren’t?”

“I never said there would be no casualties-”

“What about Sebastian? The kid is barely 12 and I know you’re going to say that if he tries to show up, you’re gonna send him home, but I think you underestimate how many people will want even someone as young as him dead if they catch him in the street. Are you really going to let him risk his life for this? A half-assed plan for you to get revenge on your asshole relatives for making your childhood shitty?” 

“You know that’s not what this is about,” 

“Do I?” Y/N asked, and for just a second, no, a millisecond, Helmut wasn’t sure anymore. It was only a brief moment though, nothing more. The fact that they could make him doubt himself do deeply though… it was a problem. Calling it that was an understatement, but there was no other way to put it that truly worked. 

Helmut growled lowly and nodded, pushing the doubt from his mind. He was right. He had to be right. What would he be if he was wrong? A spoiled rich boy who was leading his friends to their dooms for nothing? 

No.

He had to be right, so he was. It was as simple as that.

“Is there anything else you need to critique, or can you leave me to work now?” Helmut asked. His patience had long since worn thin. That didn’t matter much to Y/N, though. They liked to wear him down thin, see just how far they could push without breaking his resolve. It was a game they were both intimately acquainted with. 

They played their hand expertly. “In fact,” Y/N smiled while they spoke, another mocking little grin that made Helmut’s stomach turn in the best and worst of ways, “there is one last thing I needed to ask about,” 

“I shudder to think what it might be,”

“How are you going to hide your face?” 

The question caught Helmut off-guard as he leaned back on his heels, letting his forearms brace against the edge of the table, his face scrunching up in thought. “What?” 

Y/N gestured absently towards his face before bringing their bottle to their lips. “I’m betting that your family will expect you to be out there whenever we actually stage our attack. If I’m right, that means the soldiers will be looking for you as their top priority, and if they find you, they’ll kill everybody around you just to get a chance to drag you back to mommy and daddy. Even if they don’t kill us on sight we’ll be charged for harboring you without turning you in to the proper authorities. So, how are you going to hide your face?” 

Once again, Helmut found himself thinking that, despite their drunken stupor, Y/N might just be right, and he hated it. He hated that he hadn’t thought of it first, hated that it was a valid point, hated that he had no satisfying way to answer the question they had posed. He hated it all. 

“I’ll just throw on a bandana,” He managed to grumble, and that was that. 

Or, that should have been that, but Y/N scoffed at the idea, setting down their bottle and leaning in close to Helmut’s face. After a moment of contemplation, they brought their hand up to his face and let their thumb come to rest on one of his largest beauty marks, the mole that rested high on the left side of his nose. “I’m afraid that a bandana isn’t going to cover up your absolutely blinding radiance, fearless leader,” There was a softness to their voice, a gentility Helmut was unused to. It made his chest hurt. He hated that too. 

“Are you going to offer a solution or are you just going to sit there telling me I’m stupid,” His words were a low groan. 

Much to his surprise, though, Y/N reached into their back pocket only to pass him a crumpled purple ball. It was obviously fabric, though the outside seemed to be coated in some sort of weatherproofing, and upon closer inspection, once unraveled, two distinct eyeholes became visible. 

“Is this-”

“A mask?” Y/N finished his sentence for him, “Yeah. I figured you wouldn’t think about it, so I whipped something up with some old polyester-based yarn and then I coated it so it wouldn’t be a problem if it got wet. It should still be breathable, though,” 

For the first time since he’d known them, Helmut looked up at Y/N and thought that they were incredibly valuable. He still hated them, of course he did. Y/N was Y/N and he was himself and they hated each other because they were, at their basest, entirely incompatible. 

At his silence, Y/N looked away, almost nervous. “I hope it’s alright,” 

“It’s more than alright,” Helmut said as kindly as he could possibly manage, “I hate to say this, but owe you one,” 

“Could I collect on that debt now?” Minutely, Y/N leaned closer, eyes falling to Helmut’s lips. 

He swallowed thickly. “You’re drunk, Y/N,” 

“I know I am. Isn’t that wonderful?” 

“Why would that be wonderful?” 

“Because that means I won’t remember this,” And, with that, they closed the gap between the two of them and captured Helmut’s lips in his own. 

Kissing Y/N wasn’t a new thing. They had kissed plenty of times during their frenzied hookups; soft kisses and hard kisses and long kisses and short kisses. Still, Helmut would never get used to the thrill of it. That was yet another thing he hated about Y/N. He could never quite get used to them. Every single interaction always felt as fresh and raw as their first. 

With a fervor only he could muster, Helmut kissed back and pushed at Y/N’s hips, pressing them harder into the table below, and just as quickly as he had gained a physical mask, he had lost his emotional one. 

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

In the end, that was the last time Helmut had slept with Y/N.

They had fallen together, two sweaty half-dressed bodies laid out over the laminated map of Novi Grad, and then Y/N had gathered themself up and left with little more than one last kiss pressed to Helmut’s temple. By the time he himself had gotten home to Hans, the news of King Hugo’s death was almost an hour old.

After a few phone calls to lay the final plans and keep every sect of their band of revolutionaries on the same schedules, things rolled into motion like a finely tuned machine. 

On the morning of June 5th, the barricades rose and Helmut wore his mask proudly as his people fought for freedom in the streets he had walked since childhood. Y/N was beside him. 

By the early hours of June 6th, they were the only barricade that remained. 

Helmut should have known that once things got too challenging that the super soldiers would be released, he should have anticipated that they’d be waiting for the backlash once king Hugo passed, and yet he hadn’t. He had blindly walked into the disaster with his eyes wide open. There was no one to blame but himself. 

Little Sebastian, just one month shy of 13 years old, was dead, shot at long distance when he had attempted to grab a fallen box of bullets that had toppled over the peak of the jumble of hoarded furniture and scrap metal. Anton was dead too, taken at gunpoint while he stood guard at a side street and executed with his eyes bound and a sonnet on his lips. Even Ivan, stoic and strong Ivan who bound his knuckles in boxer’s tape and sparred with Helmut when he needed to clear his head, had been caught in the initial fire and bled out over the course of the day, dying with a smile on his face as he leaned on a discarded chair.

I never said there’d be no casualties.

His own words rang in his ears, taunted him with every bullet he shot and every breath he dragged into his aching lungs. How had he ever been so naive to believe that even one life could be expendable?  

The real lowest point came at almost midnight when Helmut picked up a call from a student on another barricade only to met with screaming. “Winter is coming!” They had wailed, “Winter is coming!” and then they had died, right there over speakerphone. Helmut had the good sense to hang up once it got to the worst of it, the strangled gurgled growing to be too much for the group. 

As things truly settled, in those hours so early that the world still considered them night, Helmut still stood vigilant. That’s when Y/N finally approached. 

They wore no smile, not like usual. Instead, their face was stoic as they came to stand beside Helmut and waited silently for a moment. He took the chance to beat them to the punch. 

“You don’t have to tell me you were right. I know you were,” I hate you for it.

Y/N offered a gentle, humorless laugh. “I wouldn’t rub it in at a time like this, but yeah, I was,” I know you do. I hate myself for it too. 

Slowly, Helmut brought a hand to his face, scrubbing the exhaustion away from his eyes. How had it all come to this? 

“How much time do you think we have,” Y/N was speaking before he had a chance to say anything more, saving him from having to elaborate on his admission. He was grateful. Grateful to not be alone, grateful to be spared more shame, grateful to see Y/N’s gentle smile one more time. He’d never show it though. No, he was to be the fearless leader till the end. 

So, he sucked in a deep breath and stared out into the starry sky. “A few hours at most. I’m surprised they haven’t made another advance after the last big push in the evening when we lost…” he swallowed thickly, “when we lost Anton,” 

Licking their lips and pushing back their hair, Y/N sighed. “For what it’s worth, for a minute there I really believed you could do it,” 

It was a bigger compliment than it seemed and they both knew it, but neither acknowledged it. Instead, Helmut gestured absently towards the half-full bottle of wine in Y/N’s hand. “You mind if I have a drink of that?” 

A grin spread across their lips, but it was as far from mocking as was possible as they passed the bottle over. 

“I never thought I’d see the day,”

Lifting the bottom of his mask to take a swig, Helmut groaned at the deep, bitter burn of it. “Don’t get used to it,” He replaced the fabric quickly before passing the bottle back. 

“I’ll try not to,” 

“Happy 20th, by the way,” Y/N added, “this is a hell of a way to celebrate, but it’s very you,” 

Helmut froze as the realization sunk in that it was, in fact, the 6th of June, even if it had only been that way for a couple hours. 

There had been a party planned. It was just an intimate thing, cake and a few card games in the afternoon with his closest friends, but that was long behind them now, forgotten in favor of the larger cause. To Y/N, though, there was never a larger cause than Helmut himself. He was realizing that slowly. In a bitter moment of realization, he laughed. 

“What?” 

“You weren’t invited,” 

They quirked up an eyebrow. “Huh?” 

“To the birthday party. I didn’t invite you,” 

“Well, I’m here now, and this is a pretty good party if I do say so myself. You and me and the revolution all jam-packed together in the middle of a street. Wouldn’t it be cool if the new democracy was born on the same day you were?” 

He smiled softly. “It was meant to be,” 

“I got you something, you know, even though I knew I wasn’t invited to the party,” Y/N added breathlessly. “It was stupid, just some dumb sweater with a whole bunch of random ass quotes from Machiavelli all over the back, but Anton and I saw it when we visited the better side of town to hang up those fliers for the march a few weeks ago and we knew you had to have it. It’s sitting all wrapped up on my front table,” 

“It’s a shame I won’t get to open it today,”

They nodded distantly. “Yeah, a real shame…”  

Then, they were quiet again, staring up at the stars mere feet away from each other and yet miles apart, farther than they’d ever been. 

Y/N cut through the soundless night first, but not before several silent minutes had passed, filled with only the distant chatter of their surviving friends and the gentle whistling of the breeze over the rooftops above. “When everything goes to shit… with the universe, I mean, not now. Everything’s already gone to shit now. But that notwithstanding, when the world goes kaput and the sun explodes, we’re all gonna be starstuff together, right? You and I and Sebastian and Andrei and Anton and… all of us. We’re gonna be nothing but matter and dust out there in space,” 

“Is there a point to this or are you just having an existential crisis?” Helmut muttered, but there was no bite to it. 

They just chuckled as their eyes scanned the sky. 

“I was just thinking, if all of us are gonna be nothing more than matter and dust and star stuff, it only makes sense that someday, even if it’s a billion years from now, a little part of each of us will be together again as part of some supernova in the sky to be seen by somebody else, and, when that day comes, I think I’m gonna know, and everything is gonna be alright,” 

He hummed thoughtfully, running a hand absently over the thick purple knit of his mask, relishing in the gummy softness of the coating on his bare fingertips in the cooling air. “That makes no sense,” 

“Do you think I don’t know that?” 

“Still, it’s a pretty thought. Anton would have liked it,” 

“Yeah, he would have…”  

Helmut let his eyes fall from the sky to his companion. They looked so fragile, so broken, that he could barely stand himself, because, if he hadn’t made the stupid choices to lead them here, they never would have felt that way. They’d be curled up in bed somewhere, asleep and safe, far from the cold darkness of the night at his side. It made him sick. 

How could he possibly put that to words? How could he apologize for denying every nudge, every chance to turn around? He couldn’t, and it made him as bitter as the wine that Y/N sipped from absently before turning to face him once again. 

“Hey, Helmut,” they whispered, and his breath caught in his throat because how dare his voice sound so sweet on their lips? How dare they keep that joy, the joy of hearing his name whispered with reverence on the early morning breeze, real and caring and perfect, away from him for so long? “Do you think I could take a chair from the barricade?” 

Just as soon as it had come, the joy was gone. “Why would you need a chair?” 

Y/N shrugged. “I want to go sleep,” 

“Why can’t you sleep out here?”

“I don’t want to be woken up,”

“We wouldn’t wake you until the fighting was starting back up again-” 

“Oh, my darling fearless leader,” their voice was empty, tinny and cold, “I don’t ever want to be woken up,” 

Their words pierced Helmut straight through the heart he didn’t know he had. It made him feel so much, so many emotions he had simply not allowed himself out of a misplaced sense of self-preservation. “But we’ll need every able body ready to fight when they send in the super soldiers if we even want a chance at making it out of this,” 

The smile that crossed Y/N’s lips didn’t come from a place of joy, nor did it mock Helmut for his blind and dying faith. It was simply there because they did not know how to do anything else. “There’s no making it out of this. Not for me, at least. For you, though… you still have a chance,” 

Denial and anger went hand in hand as Helmut sucked his teeth, grinding his molars and letting his hand ghost over his pistol hanging at his hip. 

“So you’d really rather die like a coward than take a stand against the evils in the world?” he spat, harsh and cold as the air around them. “Pathetic,” 

“Don’t do this now, Helmut, not after we were finally getting somewhere. I don’t want to die with things like that,” 

“I’m not the one who’s giving up,” he snapped.

He just needed… something. A reaction. A reason to keep fighting when the war was already lost. Anything. Why couldn’t Y/N light the same fire in him that they’d kindled for months? The fire that had driven him to spend sleepless nights poring over maps and plans and speeches and guns. If he just pushed a little harder, just hit the right button, they’d light it again, he just knew it. 

“Please,” the word fell fragile from Y/N’s lips. Not a beg, just a soft plea. 

It fell on deaf ears. 

“You know what? You can take your chair!” Helmut was shouting then, loud enough that the remaining students on the barricade could hear every word. “Take your chair and leave us to fight while you die in your sleep. If we make it through the day I’ll put the bullet between your eyes myself. Now get out of here! I don’t want to see you again,” There was a cruelty to it, an edge that he thought might just push them off the edge. Still, it wasn’t cruel without reason. Helmut thought that maybe, if he was lucky enough, Y/N would simply leave. 

They had no stakes in the results of the revolt, no serious lasting ties that would get them hunted down in the weeks to come if things came to a gruesome end. If he bid them to leave, to disappear from his sight, there was a chance, however small, that they would disappear into the shadows with a chance to live. 

Against all odds, though, Y/N smiled one of those empty smiles again and drank down the very last of their wine.

“As your baronship commands,” they whispered, before departing to gather up a chair and disappearing into the restaurant where they had met so many times before. 

Then, they were gone, and Helmut was free to sink to the ground as his heart broke and mended and broke again. 

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

As expected, the super soldiers arrived only a couple of hours past Y/N’s departure.

Their arrival was silent, only marked by the slow thud of retreating national guardsmen in the distance. They weren’t needed there anymore, and the less they saw the better. 

Helmut watched his friends fall one by one in the panic, the barricade falling to ruin as the soldiers- if they could even be considered that, soldier seemed a far too human term for the monstrous creatures before him- pulled it apart with their bare hands. From there it was just a game of who was caught first in the insanity that ensued. 

Nicholas; caught a bullet through the neck. 

Vladimir; thrown against a solid stone wall at a speed near impossible.

Lazlo; impaled on a bit of broken wood as the wood exploded. 

Andrei; shot 3 times point-blank in the chest as he held the door closed to buy Hans and Helmut a little more time with a love confession for his closest companion falling from his mouth. 

Hans…

Helmut didn’t know how Hans died. 

He had never asked. All he knew that the shots had come as he wailed Andrei’s name, and then there was a deathly silence in the golden light of the morning sun as Helmut stood alone at the back of the storeroom, taking in the 4 walls that had held the best year of his life. 

What remained now? 

A failed dream? A pile of bodies? A single survivor waiting for his death?

Helmut didn’t know. He couldn’t fathom it. 

The two soldiers sent to finish the job were nameless and nondescript as they slipped through the door, armed with long, silent rifles and hidden by masks not too dissimilar from Helmut’s own. They did not speak, not a word. Instead, they simply raised their guns and took aim at Helmut as he closed his eyes and thought of-

“Wait!”

The word rang out heavy and made the two executioners snap to the side.

“I’m with him! I’m with the revolution! Down with King Emil! Down with the monarchy!”  

There, hidden among the crates and shelves of canned goods and glass bottles, was Y/N. 

They looked objectively awful, eyes rimmed red and hair mussed up and coated with oil. Still, it was the most beautiful sight Helmut had ever seen. 

It was only right that they go together. 

Slowly, Y/N made their way across the room to take their place at Helmut’s side. “I know you said you never wanted to see me again, but I assume you’ll make an exception for the circumstances,”

“I never meant it,” he whispered back, and Y/N smiled, “You have to know, I never meant it,” 

“Even if you did, I never would have listened-”

Suddenly, one of the soldiers spoke, taking aim straight for Helmut down the barrel of their gun. 

“Quiet,” 

Y/N only paused for a moment before pressing their hand into his. “Kiss me, Helmut?”

Who was he to deny them? 

Pulling off his mask, he pressed his lips to theirs and clasped their hand like it was the last thing he would ever do. When he pulled away, they were smiling one of their old, mocking, joyous smiles. 

“Oh, fearless leader… I win,” 

The words were a whisper of air against his lips. Before he could fathom the true meaning of them the pair was peppered in a spray of gunfire as Helmut closed his eyes to the world for what should have been the final time. 

When he opened them, Y/N was struck dead at his feet. 

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

It was their final winning move, he later realized, the checkmate to a game of chess he never believed would end. 

In the end, Y/N had been as correct as they always were.

All the same, he hated them for it. 

Some nights, in the darkness of his room back at the summer estate where his father has imprisoned him until further notice, he wondered if Y/N had kissed him because they wanted to or if they had done it to get him to remove his mask long enough that the soldiers would recognize him and spare him. It wouldn’t surprise him. Y/N did have a tendency to be right about things like that. 

Ghosts haunted him often.

Not full specters, he would wish for something so merciful. Instead, he saw flashes in the periphery of his vision. Outside his window, he’d hear a child’s laugher and be so sure it was Sebastian until he looked out to find that it was simply a group of the staff’s children playing ball. Or, when the assigned guardsman brought him his dinner, he would glance down the hall and be so sure that a man at the other end was Lazlo, preparing to face a board of proctors as he delivered a thesis he would never write. It never was, though. It never would be. 

Worst of all, when he laid awake in his bed as the clock struck twelve, he would feel them beside him. 

They had never slept together in the literal sense. Whatever they had shared (love, Helmut would come to realize after many, many years with Heike, painfully hollow without the same kind of flame. He had loved them and simply never known how to show it) was purely physical and contained within that bloody, bloody storeroom that he was sure would be torn down someday soon as they glossed over the casualties and stamped out the evidence. Still, he could feel Y/N beside him in the darkness despite the fact that they had never been there. 

Their head on his chest, their body pressed flush to his side, their hot breath fanning over the fabric of his nightshirt, creating a patch of damp warmth in its wake…

It was maddening, an eternal punishment he was doomed to endure for his stupidity. Nevertheless, if he let his brain wander to a better place, a different lifetime, it was almost comforting to feel their ghost wrapped tightly to his side. 

When he woke, though, the loss of the dream was more maddening than living through it. 

Almost a month after the failed revolution, in the hot and heady days of early July when the wasps buzzed loud at the window and the skies were filled with thunderclouds most of the time, his father finally came to speak to him.  

“I trust you spent your birthday how you wished to,” Heinrich said plainly. There was no question to it, just an empty sentiment. 

Mockery wasn’t nearly as pleasant when delivered by his father and not his lover, Helmut thought distantly. 

“On the contrary, I spent my birthday watching everyone I cared about die,” he snapped back. 

Heinrich didn’t offer any sort of commiseration. He simply shrugged and continued on with what he was there to say, not that his son minded much. The less time he spent there the more time Helmut would have to himself, which was preferable to listening to his father’s droning. 

“You’re lucky to be alive. The family is on thin ice thanks to that stunt you pulled, but with time we’re all sure that you’ll become an asset if you simply learn to use that fire for something more… productive,” 

Who the ‘we’ was went unspoken. It didn’t need to be.

Helmut sighed and looked out the window at the rain falling on the garden. Nicholas would have loved the gardens at this home. He would have pressed every flower at least once in the little book he kept beside him filled with the pieces of the world that he collected as he passed through it. Where would he be kept and collected now that he was dead? 

“I’ve called in a favor and enrolled you for military service. You’ll be tested to find your strengths, sent where you’re best suited, and trained from the ground up. Once we know you can be trusted, you might even lead your own squadron and make some friends more of your caliber,” 

It took all Helmut’s strength to clench his teeth and hold back the rage he felt in his chest. “When do I leave?”

“As soon as you’re married,” 

Married. 

The word struck a bolt through the rage and dissolved it, giving way to pure shock. “What the hell do you mean?” 

Crossing his arms, Heinrich took to pacing a 2-foot line back and forth in front of the door. “We’ve found a suitable match from a good standing Sokovian family, and they’re willing to look past your little misstep as long as their daughter becomes a baroness and is adequately involved in society. She’ll be here in three days time and you’ll have a week to get acquainted before the wedding,” 

“I never said I was going to get married,” Helmut growled, “You can’t make me get married,” 

His father stared down at him from above like he was a little boy again. “I can make you do whatever I want. Don’t think I didn’t hear about what happened with that freak they shot down at your side! No son of mine is ending up with someone like-”

In an instant, Helmut had rushed across the room and punched his father square in the jaw. As blood poured down the man’s face, a hiss escaped his son’s lips. 

“Never talk about Y/N like that again,”

“So it had a name!”

That earned him another punch, but Heinrich escaped Helmut’s grip quickly, cupping a hand beneath his nose to catch the redness that poured from his face. As he retreated out the door, he turned to deliver his final verdict. “You have three days to get your act together, and maybe, just maybe, if you don’t fuck this up, I’ll let you know where they dumped all your little friends to rot,” And with that, he shut the door behind him and left Helmut to pick up the pieces of his soul.

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

The tale Zemo wove was a sad one (sans most of the details about Y/N. That was a story whose finer details he would take to his grave) and as he came to a close, the purple fabric between his fingers was a tether to reality. The coating was a bit old, thinner in places than it should have been, but it had remained steady and strong for over 20 years and he didn’t know the first place to start repairing it. 

Y/N would have known, they’d been the one to do it in the first place after all, but they were long gone, not even a ghost anymore. Just a name and a face forgotten to time as all the other impoverished students were, buried in an unmarked grave in a place he never learned. It was all that remained of them. The only thing that proved they were ever there at all. 

“You know the rest of the story,” he added firmly. “I married Heike, climbed the ranks of the military, had my son… and they were simply lost, an unwritten page in the history of a country that no longer exists,” 

Suddenly, though, a deep voice cut in through the heavy air between them. 

“Ciczheni,”

“Pardon?” Zemo asked softly, pouring himself a final tumbler of whiskey and stuffing the mask back in his pocket. 

“We buried them in Ciczheni,” 

He nearly dropped the bottle in his hand. 

Bucky was quick to continue, voice low and eyes clouded with memory in a way that only the two of them would ever truly understand. “It’s a tiny town along the border to the Czech Republic. There’s a big open field there, or at least there was, marked with a flat grave marking it as a burial site. I don’t remember the name on it, some random pseudonym, but they’re all there, all 57 dead and buried in the ground under that rock,” 

Helmut gave a stiff nod. “I see,” Then, in one long gulp, he downed the whole two fingers of whiskey straight and relished in the way it burned down his throat. When the glass was empty and set down safely on the counter again he was quick to school his expression as he turned away. “I’m afraid all that excitement has exhausted me for the day. Goodnight, gentlemen,”

He was gone down the hallway into his bedroom before the pair had a chance to say another word. 

Ciczheni. 

As he undressed, he smiled softly, letting a few errant tears drip down his cheeks. 

They had been born and raised in that tiny farming town. Sometimes, when he had let himself listen in on their conversations with some of the other members of their small, tight group, they would talk about how much they wanted to return someday, once they’d made enough money to live on for a while if they supported themself by growing a small garden and maybe keeping some chickens. The thought, even then, had always made him smile. Just Y/N and a cottage and a chicken or two. 

Sometimes, if he was especially indulgent, he would imagine himself there with them. Sharing a home. 

Making a family. 

His biological family, the one he had created with marriage and his own flesh and blood, was something different entirely. He had loved them. God, how he’d loved them. Still, it was never the same. He was never at peace. He was never home. There would always be a bitterness there, as bitter as the dark summer wine he’d drunk the night he’d turned 20, a resentment that came with the obligation of creating a place in his heart for them when there never should have been. 

For Y/N, though... 

He sighed, wrapping himself in his robe and slipping on a pair of fleece pajama pants before crawling between the sheets and laying flat on his back, eyes to the ceiling. 

Things wouldn’t have been happy all the time. Hell, they probably wouldn’t have been happy even most of the time. Still, they would have been where they belonged, seated firmly at his side for the rest of their long, wonderful lives. 

Ciczheni, he repeated in his mind, then the memorial for Novi Grad. It was a minor detour, adding barely 2 hours more to the whole trip when he had plenty more to spare. 

Ciczheni, then Novi Grad, and then, finally, peace. 

Beside him, he could feel the phantom limbs wrap around his body, resting their weight firmly on his chest where the guilt and shame and terror built by the day, and for the first time in almost a decade they were not Heike’s. Perhaps, if all went according to plan, they wouldn’t be phantom much longer. 

Or, if not, he would wait. He would wait a billion years to disintegrate into stardust and spread across the cosmos in search of them. 

Either way, when they were together again, he’d know. 

They both would. 

--------

a/n: I’m not crying, you’re crying. 

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[atlasshrugd]

Hi I'm new in the QAF fandom.. I just wanna let you know that I love your blog! Do you have a list of your favorite QAF fics?

Welcome! It’s so rare to find new QAF stans these days. I’m so glad you love my blog, thank you!

As for favourite fics, I’m glad you asked. Here come the recs.

Firstly, here is my holy grail of qaf fics ao3 collection. This is a good place to start. 

Since QAF is quite an old fandom, a lot of the iconic fics have either been lost to the void of time or have been saved onto various random sites.

Luckily, as I was so desperate for good material, I scrounged through the web and managed to find archived copies of some of the best fics in history. I will rec my favorite ones - based on how well they are written, how in-character they are, and how much serotonin they give me.

BEST OF THE BEST

Homecoming by LaVieEnRose

The Tick Tick Boom by soundczech

Subject to Change by soundczech

The Importance of Being Brian by julad 

Welcome to Heartbreak by KayCeeCruz

I’d Swim the Seas (Brian POV) and If You Needed Me (Justin POV) by Myrna (historical queen of QAF fics)

Thanksgiving by Myrna

For to Ease Your Pain by Myrna

Moving Forward by Myrna

leave yourself in tact (i will be coming back) by dontyouwaitup 

Interval (Or, What Five Years Will Do to Brian Kinney) by dontyouwaitup

Glowing Rooms by ohmyjetsabel

The Love Song of Brian A. Kinney by ipoiledi

The Thing I Cannot Change by suzvoy 

Love Spins Gold From Time by Severina 

A Thousand Feet And Climbing by Rhiannonhero 

You Stopped Waiting by Severus_divides_into_H

Sex in Seven Shades by Etharei 

Variations on a Lover’s Morning by emynn

The Kind of Love You Never Recover From by bigboobedcanuck 

Love is Not a Victory March [or, Five Lessons from the Life of Justin Taylor] by januaryale

Love of His Life by Julad (anything by this author)

Simple Lines by ragingpixie (anything by this author)

Revelations by ragingpixie 

Divergence by ragingpixie 

Love or Something Like It by ragingpixie 

Principles by ragingpixie 

Easy Out by ragingpixie 

Stage by soundczech

Long Distance by soudnczech 

Interlude by ragingpixie 

Judas by mags-nificent 

Concede by mags-nificent 

With Interest by mags-nificent 

Business Casual by not_yet_defined (s3 intern fics are like crack)

Ready by Juteux (AMAZING author! Such a hot fic)

Twenty-one by Juteux 

Oh, Inverted World by burnitbackwards

A Hundred Visions And Revisions by burnitbackwards

L’allievo by burnitbackwards

Uncertain Hour by burnitbackwards

What About You Opens And Closes by burnitbackwards

To Know the Difference by burnitbackwards

A Necessary Fluid by burnitbackwards (Iconic author)

Raw by burnitbackwards

Beautiful for Now by Rachel Anton 

How We Began (And How We Will End) by blacksatinrose (amazing author)

Slowly Unstitching by blacksatinrose 

There Are No Fortunes To Be Told by blacksatinrose 

Astronaut by blacksatinrose aka Ariel 

Nothing As Good by Erin

that's great, it starts with an earthquake by obsessivetendencies 

381 by bloodyrose82

514 by bloodyrose82 

Comfortable by alphabet_magic

That’s Just What You Are by ragingpixie, burnitbackwards, f1renze

Susurrus by Etharei 

Lachrymose by Bianca

At Times, Indeed, Almost Ridiculous by windtossed 

Another Chapter by Xie (iconic author)

Paint You Out Of Sunlight by burkesl17

GREAT FICS

International Brian Kinney Day by eleveninches

Restraint by ragingpixie 

And In Health by ragingpixie 

A Tragedy In Three Parts by soundczech

Little Ditty by Myrna 

'Cause It's You And Me by Etharei 

At the Very Edge of Things by Etharei 

Have A Nice Day by Etharei 

The Copy Room by Etharei 

How It's Gonna Be by Jenn 

Sesto’s Aria by Jenn 

Here If You Want by Erin aka throughthelens 

Three Thousand Miles by ragingpixie 

Love’s Tender Refrain by freakykat

Return by ragingpixie 

In the Palm of His Hand by epicallytired

In Between Days by sparkledark

At Times, Indeed, Almost Ridiculous by windtossed

OTHER REC LISTS / AUTHOR LISTS

Downloads - many lost fics on here

Best Authors 

Suzvoy Fic Index 

JustVisiting Fix Index

Unfortunately, many other great fics on qafcaps.com have been lost due to the server expiring, so this is all I have. Hopefully, one day someone can retrieve them! Hope this list brightens your day :)

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

How do you feel about Star Trek TOS vs reboot films? Not the plot, that’s... a different topic, but the casting and characterization.

Yeah, I can go on for...a while about the plots of the first two films. Alrighty then, main crew.

Captain James T. Kirk as played by Chris Pine

Not my Captain.  This Kirk is what parodies have made him out to be. This is somebody who only understood the surface level of Kirk and thought Zap Brannigan was an accurate interpretation. The Captain Kirk I know respects women, listens to his officers, and would literally die for every single member of his crew.  I understand this is a different timeline or whatever, but it’s obvious from the first movie that they’re trying to get everyone back in their original place.  Chris Pine is fine with the character he is given, but it took me seeing him in Wonder Woman to finally understand his appeal.  Do not like.

Spock as played by Zachary Quinto

He did a fine job.  Spock is so prevalent in pop culture that you have to actively try to sabotage his characterization.  Quinto is a fine actor and he got a lot of nuances of Nimoy’s performance down.  I will say I don’t like how emotional he is in the first movie.  I understand he’s going through a hard time and he lost his planet, but even before then the appeal of watching Spock is seeing how his attachment to the Enterprise and it’s crew allows him to be more human.  I would have liked to have seen a clearer difference between the Spock at the start of the first film and the end.  Having him be more detached would do that.  Also, THE SPOCK I KNOW WOULD NEVER DATE A STUDENT, SERIOUSLY WHAT THE FUCK ABRAMS????

Doctor Leonard McCoy as played by Karl Urban

Karl Urban does the greatest job interpreting McCoy and I will take no criticism.  It’s clear from every scene he’s in that he loves McCoy and adores DeForest Kelley.  My number one complaint is there is not nearly enough of him in the first two films.  He finally, finally gets his time to shine in Star Trek: Beyond, and we get to actually see him and Spock work off each other which was always my favorite dynamic in the show.  McCoy is part of the trio for a reason, and it pains me that we didn’t get more of the trio dynamic in the films.  No complaints from me about his interpretation, McCoy is the best in every universe.

Lt. Nyota Uhura as played by Zoe Saldana

Zoe Saldana is so good, I wished Hollywood would give her more to do.  Her Uhura is not as warm as her Original Trilogy counterpart, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.  We can see she’s ambitious and doesn’t take bullshit, which is an interpretation I can vibe with.  Again though, I cannot, for the life of me, figure out why this same ambitious, intelligent young woman would date her teacher.  Serious, WHAT THE FUCK ABRAMS??? They never develop the relationship that far, and it feels almost like an excuse to give her something to do rather than expand on her character or Spock’s. If anything, it undermines both characters and especially Uhura. Basically, I like this interpretation in theory, but in practice it didn’t work until Star Trek: Beyond.

Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott as played by Simon Pegg

I will watch Simon Pegg is basically anything and that is a fact. I like his Scotty and get a lot of enjoyment from him as a character.  My one gripe is he’s a bit too much of a joke. While Scotty was certainly funny in the show, he wasn’t really the butt of the joke.  The joke was more about just how much he loved the Enterprise, and we don’t really see that in the films. I also would have liked to have seen more of his dedication to the crew as a whole. He was one of the most vocally loyal to it and Kirk specifically.  There wasn’t a lot of that in the movies at all, so I can’t put it all on Scotty, but it’s the most pronounced with his character.  Good Simon Pegg performance, not great character interpretation.

Lt. Hikaru Sulu

Love it, no complaints. John Cho fought hard to get this role and his dedication shows.  He’s a bit more straight laced than the show, but that’s not a bad thing.  We still get his love of sword and dry wit, so wins all around.  I would have liked to see more of his plants though, but that may just be me.

Ensign Pavel Chekov

RIP Anton Yelchin.  I cannot emphasis what a talent we lost with his death. I love the enthusiasm he brings to Chekov. Every scene he’s in is just fantastic. I would have liked more Russian jokes, but understandable that they cut them. Nothing to complain about here.

[griffin-wood]

Impromptu Disney Movie Night

Pairing: Arthur Campbell x Raylene Gray from @bodycountgame .

Summary: Arthur watches Ratatouille for the first time with Raylene's insistence.

A/N: Based on the ratatouille ask here and an excuse to rewatch (literally now sjsksk) my comfort movie again! I hope hope hope I didn't mess up Arthur, enjoy! I apologize for the grammar mistakes in advance!

"Wait. Hold up - you never watched ratatouille?" Raylene gasp at the fact, as she took the remote from his hand. She immediately searched for it in a flash, before patting the seat beside her. "Cancel all the horror flicks because tonight we'll be watching this cinematic event. Sit down." She orders before Arthur joins skeptically beside her as the Disney intro appears on the screen.

"I have tasted ratatouille - it's quite a meal if that's what the movie is about then," Arthur states as the title appears, as Raylene shushed him. An olden thought crosses her mind, as she admits.

"I admit - when I was a kid I thought ratatouille is made out of pepperoni's instead of... vegetables?" Raylene admits as Arthur looks at her with the look that screams insulting with a sprinkle of 'what-the-heck.

Raylene rolls her eyes at his expression. "Says someone who never watched ratatouille - speak for yourself, Campbell. That's an insult of its own." She playfully stuck her tongue out his way, making him sigh - possibly questioning this decision.

"Fine, I'll let myself enjoy this 'cinematic event' then." While his hands making usual air-quotes making her grin, as they continue watching it.

-

Arthur took the remote and paused the movie. "Okay, first of all - that's unhygienic! The woman has to clean her whole house from that... monstrosity." He raised an eyebrow during the scene where Remy and the other rats are trying to escape leaving their footprints everywhere, to note the disgusted expression on Arthur's face. Raylene sigh, before saying, "Just assume the woman did clean it's her kitchen after all." She takes the remote from his hand and pressed play.

He paused it a few scenes later - as a scene of Remy preparing the soup in the kitchen, as a groan escapes one frustrated Raylene. "Okay, is that even sanitary? Why is the chef tasting the soup? That's unsanitary! I am friends with the people in the industry and this is...." He was cut off as a pillow flew smacking him in the face.

A look of pure betrayal paints his expression before Raylene replies. "Shhhhh! It's a movie babe, enjoy it before I smack you again." There's a sharp tone in her voice, as the movie starts to play again.

And....a few moments later (again).

"The rat 'Remy' here is controlling him. Literally controlling his hair, how does a tiny rat manage to hold on that much weight - how is that possible? and...also, there's a shadow on the top of the chef hat! How can nobody saw that?!" The disbelief in Arthur's tone making her groan much louder, a signal for him to stop before he speaks again.

"Also, the dishwasher and the rats. It was made for dishes, and what are the logistics in this? Does it clean the rats or, is it a magical thing which cleans both the dishes and the rats - and imagine all the diseases. Raylene, this is absurd." He criticizes once more before taking a sip of wine from his glass.

That's the final straw for one Raylene Gray. Nobody messes with her movie and he is not an exception - as Raylene turns to face him, as his gaze falls onto her, who's looking somewhat scary at the moment. He recalls one of the first things Rose (a.k.a Raylene's lil sister) told him about Raylene's pet peeves; never ever talk during her favorite movies. He remembers, she mentions on the 'Rose Incident' - a story where Ray actually asks Rose to leave the room for criticizing the movie they were watching a few years ago. He's in deep trouble.

"Arthur Campbell, shut up." He didn't manage to reply before she pressed her lips against his with the intention to shut him up, she smiles in satisfaction as it did work as a thought crosses her mind, finally got to shut him up for once.

It was meant to be a short distraction, yet they were both were into the kiss quite...deeply as the credits roll. Raylene pulls away suddenly, as a frown appears on her face. "No, no, no, no - we missed Anton's speech! That is my favorite scene; damn it." She sounds genuinely saddened by the fact, as Arthur stood up to fetch the remote - replaying it all over again from the beginning.

Raylene's eyes fall on him, somehow a question on the motivation of his actions. "C'mon, let's watch it again then. And I promise to finally shut my mouth." He says patting the empty space beside him on the couch.

Ray sits down beside him, a weary look on her face before pulling out her pinky finger to him. "Pinky promise then?" He sighs and begrudgingly nods, "fine - all the pinky promises."

She smiles before warning him again, "Alright I believe you but if you open your mouth and make me miss a part again. I will not hesitate for the Rose treatment got it, pal?" Raylene sounded serious, as Arthur doesn't buy the bold facade as he lets out a chuckle, placing an arm around her getting themselves comfortable for the encore.

"Whatever you say, love." He replies as the room is filled once more with the sound of ratatouille playing in the background as Arthur keeps his promise to be quiet after all. She smiles to herself, pulling the blankets over them - satisfied. However, deep in her mind, she knows he'll ask questions again and again as he always does. Maybe this time, she wouldn't mind it.

Maybe she won't mind it at all.

THE END

tags: @wayhavenots , @winterkeys , @takemyopenheart , @winslowmontgomery , @stephschoices , @homeformyheart ! ( I still don't have a proper tag list, but if u wanna be removed - lmk!)

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Marasmus

Marasmus only has a handful of fics left at Gossamer, but you can find more X-Files fics at AO3 (as finisterre). Some of my favorites of her stories I've recced here before, including one of the most clever fics you could read, Cellphone (here at AO3), and the lovely, London-set A Candle for Katherine (here at AO3, bonus commentary at LJ). Big thanks to Marasmus for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Mine, yes, older XF in general, no — some of that stuff is amazing. Though I wonder how well fandom operates now there is not a plethora of rec sites. I know of yours and one more Tumblr blog and that’s it.  I find it really difficult to find good stories in any fandom unless someone whose taste maps to mine recommends something.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

I look back on it fondly, but it was one of the first things that really hammered it home to me that every grouping throughout life follows the pattern of school.

A lot of people are really talented and funny and kind. Then there are absolute ego-rampaging nightmares who act like lady bountiful in public but do cruel things in private, or chuck their toys out of the pram at the least provocation.

And like school, fandom brings together a disparate group of people who you’re friendly with, but once you leave, the ones you stay in touch with are your friends.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Thank God.

I watched the show pre-widespread internet and mostly when I had almost no money. I didn’t have regular internet access until the third season, and that was only at my incredibly conservative workplace. I didn’t get home internet access until midway through season six. You couldn’t download episodes easily, you couldn’t stream, you just had to wait until it aired overseas. I decided I didn’t care if I was spoiled and that worked for me. In fact for some particularly annoying episodes, I was glad.

I was a newsgroup and mailing list sort of person. Never really did message boards unless a newsgroup counts, though I had a Haven account.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

Mostly, how talented people are. I know some are now professional writers, but so many people who didn’t do it as anything but a hobby were also amazing.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I always liked science fiction, oddness and urban legends, so it was kind of made for me. But it was the relationship between Mulder and Scully that kept me around, and after season six, it was the fandom that kept me around. I loved Scully in particular, cos let’s be honest, Mulder can be kind of a twerp at times.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I hung out on alt.tv.xfiles.analysis (a newsgroup), which was one of the smartest boards I’ve ever been on. The threads were full of well-read, erudite people. That led to a site which collated reviews of XF episodes. They mentioned alt.tv.xfiles.creative, and I got there the summer after Gethsemane, which was pretty optimal timing.

I’d take floppy disks into conservative workplace and quietly download the most gloriously filthy fanfic onto them for reading at home on my ancient second-hand Mac.

After that I joined Scullyfic, a mailing list, which was a lovely place to hang out for a while, and got stories through a couple of other mailing lists.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

Like my relationship to ice hockey: glad that activity exists and that some people enjoy it, but not watching and not involved myself.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

Reading, yes, and writing the odd bit of feedback, but any other fandom involvement didn’t really take. I’ve never found a bunch of people I liked as well as I liked some of the people in XF.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

I am usually more interested in female characters than male ones (the Doctor, Mulder and Jack O’Neill notwithstanding), which is why I only read a bit of m/m slash. I usually develop a perverse dislike for any woobie the fandom loves.  

Some favourites are: Samantha Carter and Jack O’Neill, Granny Weatherwax, Furiosa, everyone from The Good Place, Donna Noble, Sarah Jane Smith, Martha Jones and Yasmin Khan, Maia from The Goblin Emperor, Cordelia Naismith and Miles Vorkosigan, General Leia Organa, Rey and Finn, and lately all of The Old Guard, even Booker...

I like nerds, pining, best friends discovering feelings for each other, second chances, redemption narratives, people being sneaky for good ends and stoics who stay stoic through all kinds of misery, only to crack and start crying when they get a happy ending.

Basically, you know Eleanor at the end of the Emma Thompson Sense and Sensibility? That.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

No. I had about four years there where I made up stories about Mulder and Scully on any commute where I’d forgotten a book, but that’s gone now. I watched two episodes of the revival, but it wasn’t for me.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

I occasionally wander in and read a bit on AO3, but nothing that deals with anything past season seven. Not interested in William, not interested in domestic fiction, not even interested in post-col any more, which was 100% my crack during XF fandom days. I did read By the Dim and Flaring Lamps [Lilydale note: by @sunflowerseedsandscience] earlier this year. Love a bit of AU historical.

I read lots of different fandoms, though I am between intense enthusiasms at the moment, which always feels a bit odd.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

Yes, but they’re all about 20 years old. Is there such a thing as fandom classics any more?  There used to be a litany of stories that ‘everyone should read’. I wonder how well they hold up now.

I think there are waves of writers who come into a fandom and then leave again: I think I was part of a second wave, with the first wave being Mustang Sally, RivkaT, Karen Rasch, Lydia Bower, Nascent etc.

Then there must’ve been a third wave for the revival (and mini-waves in between). I don’t know that group of writers, so I am probably leaving out people who are really good.

One of my favourite Scully voices is Five Years and One Night [Lilydale note: by Shalimar], because of the contrast between her inner monologue as written and how little she actually says.

I really like quieter, thoughtful authors like Michelle Kiefer, Cecily Sasserbaum, Scullysfan, Cofax, Anjou, Maria Nicole, Kipler.  Love everything Kel ever wrote.

At one point there were also about three authors called Rachel who were knockout. I like to think Rachel Howard is writing professionally because it’s a waste of talent if she’s not. Rachel Anton had a crazy gift for pacing and wrote a good Krycek.

I really liked Branwell’s strange AU novels, which riff off The Field Where I Died (a wretched episode but so much good writing came from it.) [Lilydale note: Condemned to Repeat It by Branwell is a really long story involving The Field Where I Died.]

Everyone who is reccing other people’s stuff here is also a good writer. (and their taste in recs is — mostly — excellent): http://www.thebasementoffice.com/museaxfnet/museans/TitlesAF.html

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

I like The Flexible Concept of Tomorrow. I loved trying to work out the timelines. I like the one about airships and cross-dressing which only exists on my iPhone and in my imagination right now.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

Only an AU, if ever. I am completely at sea with canon.

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

In my head. Mostly AUs. Everyone has daemons! It’s an airship! They’re exploring space! It’s mediaeval Slovenia!

Most of my creativity is sucked away by work. Which is good I suppose, as writing fanfic never paid my Netflix subscription.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

Reading long-form journalism and non-fiction books.  

What's the story behind your pen name?

Well, I changed mine. The first one was picked out of a magazine article about Branwell Bronte, and I liked the shape of the word. Then I got to feel uncomfortable with it because it was a real illness that made people suffer. The current one comes from the shipping forecast when I was a kid.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

No, and also absolutely not. Over my dead body. Over YOUR dead body.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

I took my stories off Gossamer but I don’t remember why. They’re on AO3 now and there are probably stray copies on some archives out there.

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

I have made all of these mistakes. All of ‘em.

— On no account offer unsolicited concrit. In fact, do not provide concrit EVEN IF THE PERSON ASKS FOR IT, unless you know them reasonably well and it’s in private.

— Avoid the wank. If you have the perfect riposte to something awful, write it and file it to drafts for two days. If you still want to send it after that, godspeed.

— Write anything you want, and when you start keep going. You can edit later.

— Never put any story into the public sphere unless you’ve had a second pair of eyes on it, preferably the eyes of someone who is willing to say “are you SURE about that?”

Finally, just have fun. Being in the grip of love of story is a wonderful thing, and you never know how long it will last.

(Posted by Lilydale on September 29, 2020)