#I needed to draw these poor anime boys/men with actual noses

[emotigonecreative]

The desire to go back in time and throw hands with your teenage self is just what happens when you hit your mid 20s.

[stardusthhj]

We fell in love where the sun never rose - 01

TW: mention of death, weapons, bruises. Reader’s discretion advised.

Genre: mafia au. Gang au. Revenge au.

WC: 2,3k

Wrath is a feeling that could push anyone to extents they didn't think they could go to. And wrath is what pushed you in front of the black door, adorned by mildew and brownish cracks. You half expected a prestigious mansion. But after a second thought it was all the more logical that underground businesses were hiding- taking place underground. You softly chuckled at your own stupidity. The man next to you stretched his hand towards the door - or what was left of it- motioning you to push it open. You looked at him as his black hair fell to his eyes. His locks were thick and long, his hairstyle very trendy -just like the rest of him actually. He had the kind of face that would let anyone struck in awe. It would have affected you as well, hadn’t you be blinded long ago by everything you now longed for. By the sheer reason for which you stood before the door next to Hyunjin. His playful smirk wouldn't leave his lips. You observed him for a long time before and never had you seen his lips falling down. Whatever this smile was hiding it was probably more pain than a human could take.

You focused your attention back on the door, pushing it open. The light was flickering inside, as a long dark corridor took pride of place. You side-eyed Hyunjin, waiting for his signal. He walked in first, walking straight. As you crossed the seemingly never-ending corridor, you couldn't help your eyes from wandering to the countless doors on each side of the corridor. The air was heavy, or maybe was it your steps which finally came to a halt when Hyunjin stopped in front of a giantic door. It was none like the others, adourned in brown and gold. The door was beautifully decorated, like in the many novels you read about arabian architecture, with all the arabesque and gems. But something, right in the center of the door, took pride of place. The head of a lion, which paws were clunched. Its mouth hang open showing countless teeth, through which a red gem could be seen. Whoever carved this majestic animal in the door was insanely talented. "Are you going to stare at the door for more time? Because last time I checked you came all this way to become part of the gang." The sickening sweet voice drew you out of your thoughts. You shook your head ever so slightly, finally looking at him, waiting for the moment he’d push the door. Surprisingly he bent forward until his breath caressed your right cheek in a way that would make anyone blush. "I am not going to do it for you, dear. Push the door or run away, but be quick." You could hear his smile growing at the end of his sentence, voice dripping with honey. You exhaled, trying to get back your composure. You sighed one more time - maybe you were standing before Death. But you decided to keep Her close the day you decided to get your Revenge. You worked too hard for cowarding away now. And at that, the door flew open, letting the inside of the room be seen. Two luxurious brown couch were face to face, a small glass table in the middle. Under it was a white rug, hiding for some centimeters the marble floor. To your left could be seen a vase adorned by pristine drawings. Beyond the apparent living room, an open kitchen could be seen. It was all white, from the tiles on the wall to the furniture, next to which was a door. A black one. Very simplist given the room it was in. On the right side of the giant room a staircase could be seen. As pristine as the other items in the room. Not so idiot, after all, you thought. Hyunjin put his hand on your right shoulder, envelopping you, though his arm didn't touch your left shoulder. "Someone's eyes are constantly astray, it seems. The person you're looking for is that way." He said, his demeanor never-changing. He led you to the black door, the one behind which your future would be sealed. You knew the second your eyes wandered on it, that beyound it took place the most macabre ambiance. You understood by now, that whatever doors you crossed were the doors to your future, and that Hyunjin would let you open them yourself. He didn't want to seal your future, you were foolish enough to do so yourself. And so did you. You opened the black entrance, standing in the threshold of what seemed a normal study. You scanned the room, eyes narrowing. Book shelves were on each side of the walls. In front of the door was a brown desk on which messy papers were scattered. Behind the study was a window, letting enter little to no amount of light. Seated behind the desk was the black haired man with which you would probably trade your life for your goal. He eyed you intensely before motioning you to sit on the chair in front of his desk. You slowly walked, not even paying attention to Hyunjin leaving the room behind you. You sat, now seeing the man from very close. The first thing you noticed was his eyes. They were glassy. Not in the sense of looking teary, no. Glassy like glass. Thick, white, void. Almost as if a veil was drawn before his pupils. He seemed so cold, so cruel. "So?" he said, his voice not as rough as you expected it to be. You found yourself wordless. How? You prepared for this moment for at least six months. You knew what you had to

say, yet you couldn't bring yourself to say these words now. Were they too cruel? But to whom exactly? "I have a goal. I came here to accomplish it." you managed to say , surprised at your voice which didn't betray any of your feelings. You mentally gave yourself a head pat. "Revenge, am I wrong?" You looked up to him, astonished. Your reaction amused him, and he chuckled softly. "Do you think you are the only person that ever crossed my door asking for revenge? Let me tell you something; every Stray Kids member first joined to get revenge. Even the leader himself." He smirked in an arrogant way. "If you want your revenge, prove me your worth. Let me allow it to you."

"I do not intend on telling you the story of my life." you said, harsher than you intended.

"Cold eyes, cold words, cold demeanor. I never expected you to narrate me your little story. I don't really care about it. I only need you to prove me with actions. You know what we say? Actions speak louder than words." He said, adding a wink at his last word. "But before you do anything, you'll receive a little training. Just so that you don't die." He leaned over, both elbows on the table and his head supporting his head. He starred at you for a little before shouting "Rhino". A boy with brown hair immediately appeared. The place was huge, how did he hear him and came so fast? You wondered. Was he ready all this time being? You eyed the man as he stood before you. His eyes were very pretty, and unlike the two other men, alive. His pupils were black, feathered with long eyelashes. His nose was long and sharp, and his upper lip was a bit bigger than his lower. He looked pretty, just like the two other men you met. His gaze fell on you and you found it hard to breathe. His eyes were surely alive, but they sent daggers through your whole being. He made it clear in one gaze that he was less than happy with your prensence.

"There's no going back, now" Said the man with glassy eyes.

The first steps you took were hesitant. You felt like being entirely swallowed up in the giant training room. Weapons were organized on shelves; guns, knives, and some wood-looking swords. You wondered why swords were present in the first place. On the ground were discarded thick rugs which you remembered using in high school. You didn’t notice your mouth was so wide open until the brown haired man next to you mentioned it. You looked at your feet, embarrassed. Now is not the time to be embarrassed! You thought. The man -Rhino, if you remembered it well- stepped first. He climbed up the rugs, heading towards the wooden swords.

“We’ll start with this. It’s convenient; you’ll learn how to many something else than a gun. Plus you won’t hurt yourself.” The first words he spoke to you were void of any feelings, just like his eyes were. But it didn’t matter; you weren’t here for acquaintances but to get to your goal. You stepped on the rugs as well, taking one of the wooden weapon he lent you. It was surprisingly heavier than it seemed. And so was his gaze. He was judging you, evaluating you through your very movements. It made you nervous to the point you wondered if he could read in your breath. “Revenge” he said, “did a relative got murdered by a gang?” You stiffened. How could someone be so insensitive? You chose to hold his gaze, frowning. Well, if he can read you so well, he should be able to read your anger. “It has nothing to do with you. You are supposed to train me, not talk to me.” You spat, venom dripping from your words. If he didn’t mind hurting others, he might as well not mind being hurt himself.

The right part of his upper lip lifted in what you supposed would be the closer of a smile you’ll ever see on him. “Sure. Be it. But then don’t expect me to tell you your wrongdoings. Find out by yourself.” His tone had nothing to do with the so called smile. He was mad. Mad at you. “So big boy likes to hurt others but can’t stand a simple remark? Is the poor boy hurt?” You feigned concern as you leaned closer to his heart, pretending to listen to his heartbeats. In a second, your back encountered the rug in a way that would sure bruise you. When you opened your eyes, a growl escaping your lips, he was right on top of you, his eyebrows closer than possible. His face was mere centimeters away, his breath fanning your own. Now that he was so close, you could see his eyes well. They weren’t black, they were dark brown, with some yellow and red tint here and there. “You surely like to talk back. In a real fight, you’d already be dead. Talk less, act more.” He said before standing up, straightening his white shirt in the process. You were speechless. All this time you thought you were at least good at fighting. You stood up yourself, your back hurting more than it should have. Damn it, you mentally cursed.

Rhino looked at you over his shoulder “get up, we have a long way to go.”

Weeks passed and the least you could say was that you significantly improved. You also noticed a slight change in Rhino’s demeanor. He would from times to times bring water bottles, and sometimes would even patch the handle of the sword you were used to many. You figured out it was his way of caring. Through very small things. And it was fine by you. Even if the only words you would exchange with him were about work. He even taught you a handful of laws, such as always protecting the leader, not doing anything that would put the whole gang in danger, sacrificing yourself for the well-being of the gang… all these rules you couldn’t care less about. For you would not give up on your life and your goal for a bunch of men you did not even know. It had been weeks, yet the only persons you ever encountered where Hyunjin and Rhino. You wondered where the others were. But it didn’t matter, you had to get ready to the day of the test. The rest was a mere concern for you.

Resting on the small bed of the room you were assigned to, you mentally replayed your last training session with Rhino. The way he held his gun, the way he effortlessly never missed any target. You wanted to be as good as him. No. You wanted to be better. A knock on your door drew you out of your thoughts. You opened it, revealing the brown-haired man you were so accustomed to. “Chan told me to inform you; tomorrow you are going on a mission with us. It’s as simple as handling a drug deal. There’s really not much to do, but have this.” He put in your hands a bulletproof vest. “Am I allowed to…” “As long as he doesn’t find out it’s fine. Wear it under your clothes. Wouldn’t it be a shame if you died before you’d even join?” He cut you off. You frowned. Why would Chan ask you to come help in a mission when you didn’t have enough training? Why would Rhino give you a bulletproof vest? It just didn’t make sense. You politely thanked him, sending him away. You slumped back on your bed, eyes fixed on the white ceiling. They really thought you were dumb. Soon enough, you were going to pass the test you prepared hard for. The exam they disguised as a mission. You thought about it for a long time. It was most likely they would test you on your loyalty, ability to apply the rules Rhino taught you and on the way you can use weapons. You clenched you fists, sitting on the edge of the bed. Whatever it would cost, you were going to pass the test. Not because you wanted to be part of Stray Kids, but because you needed to. It was your only way to get to your revenge. And your revenge was your it. It came before anyone’s life. Including your own.

[the-acid-pear]

I did my homework and i did my chores, time to tackle on the third book of this series, Son of Ogre

Chapter 1

Okay but the fuck is Baki planning to do if he stops fighting? That's literally all he has, he's not smart

WOOH THATS A BIT REALISTIC

PREHISTORIC ELEPHANT?!

King just went to have a snack. Also FUCK does that meat look tasty FUCKKK

This baby so cute 🥺

I'm so glad Yuji is doing stupid hilarious shit again it had been a while

Congrats on Baki for that mantis

Chapter 2

Who tf is this kid?

Poor kid lmao, i assume he will meet Baki

Look at my boyyy

HSTSRFAYDF DON'T CALL HIM A MANLET

Imagine Baki actually kills this kid HSJDYSSHCBT

Third comment with a ton of likes is "we do not condone child violence. We do, however, find it hilarious"

Chapter 3

AH SHUT UPPP KIDDO

But i like Baki memeing a round a lil

Chapter 4

🥺🥺 that's so sweet...

HELLOOOO STRYDUM MY GOD YOUR TITS GOT FATTER SIR 😳😳

Yujiro is such a fucking threat to society lmao

I love seeing Baki with his eyes open, he's looking more like his old self

Oh, shadow boxing incoming, alright

Chapter 5

Yuri? 🥺 /j

THE RETURN OF IRON MICHAEL?!

Chapter 6

I love how there's our silly little mains after every cover LUV em <33

Baki just dissociating his ass out and using it on his favor, the king

Why is Baki eating sour prunes aren't those meant to be sweet?

We all salivating

Chapter 7

Love to see there are even more swears there now

I can put my face next to my foot too tho

FAGDRJSEHARD YUJIRO CAN BEAT THE CANCER HOW ICONIC 😍

Also i would LOVE to see Yuji fight an Orca

WHAT?!

I love how everyone in the comments is calling out Rumina for not seeing issue going down to a dark hidden basement with a shirtless man older than him

Chapter 8

"piggy back me" USHSYFLFUDSY

This fight is going to be good

Chapter 9

Imagine Baki dies right here right know against an imaginary mantis lmao

Okay Baki getting damaged makes sense but the WALL?

Baki's dead (GOD IT HAS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I HAVE SAID THAT)

Ffs it's true Baki COULD create himself a stand 😰

Chapter 10

OH FUCK IT'S TRUE

Chapter 11

This fight is so boring i had to take a 6 hour break

Baki just can't win against nature eh

This reminds me of Garland pulling a suplex on that Anaconda

Chapter 12

I can't wait for the main cast to ACTUALLY appear, instead of just, you know, them in the covers

This fight is slow but cool but slow

To fight a mantis you must think like a mantis 😎

Though it's true in this manga you will most likely win if you steal your opponent techniques so

Chapter 13

I MISS IGARI FUCKKK

This is so dumb i luv it

That mantis be swearing lmao

Love it when Baki goes full Yujiro

Chapter 14

TOBA...

Holy fuck do mantis fly?

Secret Chapter?

Is this how Yujiro got born?

Idk girl i would have killed him if i was you

WHAT.

I KNOW THOSE FROGS THEY ARE FROM PUERTO RICO I THINK

I might just be sleepy but this is so confusing

AKSHSKGSKSGSJSG JUST KILL THE BABY IT AINT THAT HARD

Chapter 15

GAIA...

Why is he like this?

Is "he" with us right now?

...gotta admit that IS true...

I love Strydum sksgwhwg

Yujiro really went XD

I don't think my man Arun in the comments is aware how gay what he said is, though maybe I'm wrong

Chapter 16

GOD THESE FUCKING COVERS MAKING ME SO NOSTALGIC, LOOK AT SPEC!

ANIME KENNEDY?!

I can't believe Bush is dead

AN ASIAN BOY HAS JUST KIDNAPPED THE PRESIDENT...

8 of January? My god he's a Capricorn

I'm sorry, what?

LAHQIGWKQFWKSFWIWG 😭😭

I love Baki so much, THIS IS THE KID THAT I MISSED SO MUCH

This explains why Baki was in prison clothes in the anime teaser

Chapter 17

BIG NUMBER

That one mf like 😐

Glad Baki is 18 now at least 😌

Love to see Oliva back

Chapter 18

This page not even bothering to charge the pages anymore

I'm sure there were better ways to go to jail, well, actually, no, but still

Toba used to just chew that off

Baki did that mantis hit you in the head too hard?

I. I watched way too many prison movies and shows. I don't like seeing someone as young and pretty as Baki in such a place. I rlly don't.

Chapter 19

Yanagi baby i miss you...

IRON MICHAEL?!

Mfkhsjsys 😳🥴

Eh got my hopes too high

CHE BAKI PIBE... LA PUTA MADRE NI ACA ME ESCAPO DE MIS COMPATRIOTAS

I hope he swears too i want to see a boludo o pelotudo PLEASE

I mean para pelotudos lo veo a Yujiro todo el tiempo pero igual JSGWKEGWG me pone bien argento ver al Che carajo

Chapter 20

HE SAID BOLUDO SUAHWKWGAKSGSKSGSKGD

I can't take this omfg new fav I'm sorry Doppo but he just said boludo 😭

Pendejo is more used as pibe here but i will let it pass bc idk the lingo in Cuba and he spent some time there so

Why don't i speak like this too ffs? All i do is say eh and call it a day

He's cocky enough to call anybody any age pibe so I'll let that pass too

Por favor no lo hagas che sksgwj

Chapter 21

Che, pibe, it's a good day to die...

Chapter 22

GSHAGSTSG he should have said "no boludo"

I'm falling in love with this boludo myself

That's talented and brutal

OH RIGHT YOU LOSE YOUR BALANCE WHEN YOU DONT HAVE THAT

Chapter 23

Hm that's, cringe

YESSS HE SAID PELOTUDO

OAHWLGWKQFSKSGSJS SIII ROMPELO TODO CHE, ROMPELO TODO POR DECIRTE YANKEE KSGSSJGS

Honestly i too get pissed off when called American or European, though i won't throw shit to Baki, he's some random 18 yo japanese boy, no way he would recognize latinoamerican lingo lmao

King shit Baki boy

Chapter 24

Oh that's why he's called Jun Guevara, that's fair

I like how they are mixing a bit of truth and a bit of lie it's fun at least

Chapter 25

I like how they are drawing nipples now, occasionally

I can't wait for Viêt to complain about propaganda in the comments

OH SHIT

😳 :Y

He's sooo nice 😍

Chapter 26

Only three? You mean the third is... 👁️👁️

HAHA YEAH YUJI-CHAN <3

I can't believe he works for the USA I'm crying and shaking rn

What a progressive manga, the three strongest and most dangerous men and none of them are white 😍

GET HIS ASS BAKI

Chapter 27

Why is this guy sweating sm?

LDYDYSUGFUDT BAKI PLS

I like how the only time Baki was willing to kill a person was when he thought Sikorsky had hurt his girl

Chapter 28

I feel like Ian will die

Man i love how Baki is drawn in this book

Ffs i called it, i have watched way too many prison things to know how shit goes down

I have seen these three before in fanart but I'm curious to see what they can do

Chapter 29

Their faces remind me of Doyle

OH I CANT WAIT TO SEE EM IN THE ANIME

ASSHOLE DON'T CALL ME STUPID 😢💔

I'm gonna struggle to tell em apart but i think I'll manage

Okay I'm not the only one who thinks they look like Doyle, fair

Chapter 30

The mouth vs Yujiro when?

Someone mentioned the have the same vibe as the dudes that worked with Gaia and like 👁️👁️

Chapter 31

Lmao someone in the comments recommended the same thing

These three must be great at sex (sorry)

KSHALDHDKD NEW FAV COMMENT: "go to Japan and look for the word "defeat". That way you won't feel cocky anymore"

Chapter 32

Hehe hello Junnn~

KSHAKDHKWGS

La luna

Chapter 33

LOS TRES...

Okay that's funny, hocico instead of mouth (hocico is used for animal mouths)

I'm so glad i know Spanish

The two things that drive me insane and make me ramble are Doppo's beauty and this stupid argentinian

OSHSKWGSKSG

Chapter 34

Imagine he's doing that illusion thing Dorian did

With his own blood, that's so cool...

Hoho...!

I did that once when i had a terrible nose bleed, didn't go well

Chapter 35

This book is fucking boring NGL

"now that you got no more urine left in you"

AH.

GAHDYR LMAO

Chapter 36

HO THAT TITLE, PLEEEASE I NEED SOMETHING, ANYTHING, TO HAPPEN

HHH he kinda cute...

Oww :(

JDJSJFRGAJ

God piantao is an old word i had never heard it before

AND he took a piss.

LOCO NO SEAS HOMOFÓBICO NINGUNA MINA ACA ES MEJOR QUE ESTE PIBITO TE LO ASEGURO SKSGSKGSJAAGS

Se me cayó un ídolo y yo que le quería dar 😔

ÑSHWQLSGOSGDKW

Let's see if he lied to Baki about just liking eh /j

Chapter 37

I luv Oliva lol

AJSGSKSLAGHS BAKI SNAPPED

I too wonder where the fuck Kozue is

Chapter 38

LSHSLDGSLSGSIEG

He is jealous of what you two have, it's normal, el Che just rejected his love after all ;/

Oliva is a king

OH A HANKERCHIEF I THOUGHT THAT WAS UNDERWEAR SHSGS-

Oh shit Oliva is like 45?! He looked so young

Te fuiste a la mierda, Che, el chabón estaba siendo re bueno con vos

Baki is just dead

Chapter 39

I love how realistic Che's fear is, he's rather smart, though not this time

POOR GUY AJSGSWJW

I didn't realize Che said "what more, it may be a woman!" but to be fair they ARE in jail so

Chapter 40

I'm feeling kinda bad for him ngl

I feel happy for him tho 🥺

Bruh they added one page after the ending of some naked anime girl tf 😐

Chapter 41

These prisoners having fun is kinda sweet

YO INSANE

Bitches be complaining about Maria's looks are just jealous 🥰

Chapter 42

Damn she lorge

He loves fighting naked eh

Only valid person is the one saying Oliva deserves better treatment which tbh true

Chapter 43

Fun fact i wear my jacket like El Che too, unless it's too cold

El che with the hair lose is so cute bro,,,

Something something fingering joke

Sikorski could fold a coin too

I bet the bandana will break

Chapter 44

I would have just fallen on top of him, how is he gonna counter that, eh?

Oh that super fun to know!

Oh the good ol dirty technique, i have seen this one before!

Chapter 45

NOOO MARIA DON'T DO THIS TO HIM

This fight is super cool tho i love these two characters

Chapter 46

They just keep changing the rules i think Itagaki is just flexing at this point

LAAOSFKAGSKAGSKAF???

Baki wants his protagonism back

I'm getting pissed off they keep putting semi naked underaged girls at the end of every chapter 😐

Chapter 47

Bruh just realized, the mouth got so hyped as this new cool villain and they died in their first appearance 😭

His damn bandana...

[imyourbuddie]

Oh, Baby, Meet Me In The New Year

To say that New Year’s Eve is a shit show is the biggest understatement of the year, and yes, that includes the whole tsunami thing. 

Buck rips his helmet off as he stumbles into the firehouse, his legs heavy like lead pillars as he trudges into the locker room. Beside him, Eddie drops onto the bench, his head hung low as he checks his phone. Christopher’s bright smile flashes across the screen as Eddie scrolls through the photos Carla must have sent him, and Buck sighs. 

He loves being a firefighter. Loves helping people and saving lives. It gives him a purpose bigger than just him, and on any other day, he’d work tirelessly without complaint. But tonight is New Years Eve, and he and Eddie had plans to spend it bringing in 2020 with Chris. 

Alas, party animals and house fires from errant fireworks have no regard for Buck and Eddie and Christopher’s NYE plans. When both their phones chirped with Cap’s emergency texts, all three of them groaned. 

Hen hangs up her jacket before bending over to tie her shoes, her movements sluggish. What’s the point of even getting out of their gear? If the rest of the night continues like it has been, they’ll be getting another call really soon.

The alarm blares, and Hen groans loudly before reaching for her jacket again. Maybe he jinxed it, or maybe he’s actually clairvoyant. Shit. Buck pats her shoulder, then takes Eddie by the elbow and helps him to his feet before the three of them file out toward the fire engine. 

“All right, everyone, look sharp,” Cap shouts over the blaring alarm, and Buck wonders if the man’s really half machine. How’s he so chirpy when he’s half way through a double shift? Is there some super sonic ultra coffee he’s sipping in his office that he’s not sharing with the rest of the team? “We got a PNB at a party downtown.” 

“Pulseless non-breather. My favourite,” Chim says with as much enthusiasm as he can muster, which is to say, not a whole lot, and Buck doesn’t even have the energy to mutter “mood.” 

They pile into the truck, and Cap takes the wheel. With the sirens blaring and lights flashing, they pull through the engine bay doors for what feels like the millionth time tonight. Eddie sits across from Buck and presses his knees against Buck’s. They share a tired smile, and Buck points at Eddie’s pocket with an expectant tilt of his chin. 

Eddie blinks for a second, then understanding dawns on him and he pulls his phone from his pocket. He passes it to Buck, and a little spark of warmth spreads from Buck’s chest as he unlocks the screen. Yup, that’s right, Eddie “I don’t trust anyone with anything” Diaz trusts Buck with his phone password. 

Buck flips through the photos Carla sent. In one Christopher is stuffing his face with a cupcake, in another he’s got he’s smiling with slitted eyes getting too damn close to the camera. The last one is Christopher holding up a drawing of two men in what looks like Picaso’s version of firefighter uniforms, and a little boy with crutches standing between them. The three of them are holding hands, and there’s fireworks going off in the background. 

Buck’s eyes sting, and he quickly turns off the screen before the sting turns into tears. Christopher is a goddamn gift, and anyone who thinks otherwise can fight him. 

He hands the phone back to Eddie, and they share a knowing look. Eddie’s knees squeeze Buck’s, and the delicious pressure conveys everything words doesn’t as they take a sharp turn and squeal to a stop. 

Eddie, Buck, and Cap hop out of the truck just as Hen and Chim rush past them, their emergency bus parked right behind the fire engine. There’s a small crowd under the neon sign of the club, and Hen pushes her way to the front, her fatigue forgotten as she crouches beside a young man on the ground. 

“He just stumbled out and collapsed,” a young woman in a short slinky dress says, her voice high-pitched with panic. “He looked dead and he wasn’t breathing. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You’re the one who called 9-1-1?” Buck glances at the phone clutched in her manicured hands. 

“Yeah.”

“You did everything you could,” he reassures her and squeezes her shoulder. “We’ll take over from here.” 

Hen checks the man’s airway, then moves back as Chim presses a mask over his mouth and nose. Buck knows the drill like he knows the back of his own eyelids. Two breathes, compression, check, repeat. This is the third PNB tonight, and they already had two cases of alcohol poisoning before ten pm. Buck appreciates a good party as much as the next guy, but this is getting a little ridiculous. 

He and Eddie are on crowd control as Cap, Chim, and Hen bring the young man around. Eventually, he sputters and rolls over and vomits all over the concrete sidewalk, and that breaks up the crowd of lookie-loos.

They help get the man onto a gurney and into the bus. Hen and Chim rush off toward the hospital, and Buck has one foot on the truck when movement in the corner of his eye gives him pause. He turns, and dread pool icy cold in his stomach. 

Halfway down the block, a group of rowdy drunkards shove a very, very pregnant lady out of the way. Buck watches, frozen in time, as she trips and falls, spilling the contents of the plastic bag hanging on her arm. 

Buck curses and runs toward her, shoulder checking the group of drunk men as he pushes through them. One guy makes a grab for him, but his gruff shout of “hey asshole” turns sharp and breathy as he yelps in pain. Buck glances over his shoulder and smirks with satisfaction; Cap’s got the asshole’s wrist in a vise grip as the rest of the group swerves out of the way. Serves him right. 

The satisfaction is short lived as he skids to a stop on his knees beside the pregnant lady, who’s gasping in pain as she clutches at her extremely round stomach. 

“Ma’am, ma’am—”

“Do I look like a goddamn ma’am to you?” the woman spits through gritted teeth. 

Buck scoffs, but doesn’t fight her on it. “My name is Evan Buckley. I’m with the LAPD. Can you get up?”  

She tries, then grimaces and falls back on her butt as her whole body curls in on itself. She shuts her eyes and breathes in through her nose and out through her mouth as if she’s done this before. 

“I…” she says, her voice strained. “I think I’m going into labour.”

Buck’s swallows as breathing becomes difficult, and he looks up at Eddie and Cap, who are standing a few feet away. 

“We’ll get you to the hospital as soon as possible—”

“No,” she gasps, “no you don’t understand. This is my third. When I say the kid’s coming, she’s fucking comi—oh fuck.” She squeezes Buck’s hand as a contraction wracks through her, and Buck tries to ignore the way his bones shift in her grip. It’s a long, agonizing God-knows-how-long before she lets go and says, “Should’ve known better than to wonder around this late at night.”

“What were you doing out this late anyway?” Buck asks as Cap and Eddie spread a blanket on the cold, concrete sidewalk. 

“Had a craving for fried chicken,” she responds sheepishly and shuffles onto the blanket just in time for another contraction to hit. 

Once over, and she lets go of Buck’s poor, cramped hand, she brushes a strand of hair from her sweaty brow and smiles at him. “I’m Lauren, by the way. Evan, was it?”

“You can call me Buck.”

“Buck, huh.” She purses her lips and tests the name a couple times. “I like it. Maybe I’ll name my kid after you, Buck.”

Buck looks horrified. “I thought you said it’s a girl?”

She grins and opens her mouth, but before she could respond, her face screws up and she lets out a string of curses as her hand wraps around Buck’s once more in a death grip. They don’t talk after that, with the contractions coming on fast and furious and if this goes on any longer he’s going to need a cast for his hand. Cap and Eddie talk her through it, but the lady knows what she’s doing. This is her third, after all. 

Another small crowd forms around them. Cap looks up from between her splayed legs and says, “Pus—”

“Fuck, she’s coming,” Lauren shouts.

Buck moves without thinking. Moves because every muscle in his body is trained to react. He reaches under her leg just as a soft head appears, and he catches the baby before the rest of her slides out. Lauren’s sharp cry turns into an exhausted gasp, then she collapses onto the ground. 

A thin, shrill cry erupts from the tiny little thing in Buck’s arms, and Buck wants to cry, too, with joy. He looks to Lauren, then freezes when he sees the pool of red beneath her. There’s so much blood. Too much blood. And Cap throws a bundle of blankets at Buck before shoving him and the baby out of the way. There’s shouting behind him. Hen and Chim come flying through with their duffles and life-saving equipment. 

Buck cleans the baby as best as he can, then wraps her up and sits on his ass as he watches, helpless. Lauren is awake, and she’s looking at her baby with so much love it brings more tears to Buck’s eyes. The world swims around the edges, and Buck clears his throat and snaps out of his stupor as he gingerly scooches over to Lauren. 

“She’s beautiful,” he croaks.

She reaches for her baby, and he hands her over, blood and mucus and all, and something in his chest bursts with so much warmth and hope and joy. Beside him, Cap pats his shoulder, mutters a “well done, son” before pushing to his feet. Buck swallows and tries to follow, but his legs don’t work, so he resigns to sitting on the cold concrete until Chim and Hen has Lauren and her baby up on a gurney. 

The crowd around them are chanting something, but Buck can’t make out the words as he watches Lauren and the baby get wheeled into the bus. She waves at him, and he waves back, dazed. 

A soft finger brushes Buck’s jaw, and he turns to the gentle touch to find Eddie’s honey brown eyes trained on him. His face is bathed in shifting colours, and there’s cheering all around them. Eddie’s jacket is covered in blood, his forehead damp with sweat, and there’s a small smear of dirt on the tip of his nose. He looks like a fucking mess, and Buck wouldn’t have him any other way. 

Eddie smiles that lopsided smile of his and chuckles. “What a way to bring in the new year, huh?”

Buck blinks. “What?”

“Did you miss the countdown?” 

“Incase you didn’t notice, I was a little preoccupied,” Buck huffs indignantly.

Eddie’s eyes soften, and his smile loses its playful mockery. “Yeah, you were busy falling in love.”

Buck’s instinct was to deny it, but the sincere look in Eddie’s eyes stops him. “I was, a little, wasn’t I?”

“Maybe, in the future when we’re more...you know, ready…” Eddie worries at his bottom lip as a faint blush colours the apples of his cheeks. “We can adopt a little girl. Chris has always wanted a little sister.”

Buck stares at Eddie, and the implications of his words, the hidden meaning between the lines, knocks the breath out of him. “Are you? Is that a—because if you’re fucking with me right now, Edmundo Diaz, I’m going to fucking kick your ass.” 

“Fuck, Ev, yes.” Eddie laughs and gets down on one knee. He pulls a little velvet box from his pocket and pops it open, revealing a simple silver band. “Evan Buckley, the source of all my migraines, the devil on my son’s shoulder, the man who fills my waking thoughts and plagues my dreams, the man who stole my heart and keeps it safe, who’s always got my back. You are the love of my life, the pillar that holds me up and gives me strength, will you make me the happiest man and do me the honour of becoming my husband?” 

The crowd around them quiets even as the fireworks continue to shower psychedelic lights over the streets of LA. Eddie’s earnest face is open, vulnerable, so full of sincerity and love. And all that is because of Buck. For Buck, and the tiny little “yes” tumbles from his lips so fast he can hardly catch his breath. Eddie’s shoulders sag and he lets out a relieved chuckle, then scrambles back onto his feet and slips the ring on Buck’s finger. 

They stand forehead to forehead with grime and muck and blood and who knows what else stuck on their uniforms, and seal the deal with a searing kiss. 

[iam-kenough]

Will  you ever notice me? Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Summary: During they wandering in deep snowstorm, man from van der Linde gang found odd looking girl and Dutch decides to take her to camp to see if she can be any use, leading life of outlaw with them. Quickly, new girl develops feelings towards Arthur, but he sees her just as a kid...and she won't take that! It's an original character story that starts in the place where Arthur, Dutch and Micah were supposed to first meet with Sadie. Instead she's already with them.

Authors notes: It’s second chapter and you can find the rest of chapter on my blog if you want to read more of my fanfiction.

Word count: 2978 Chapter 2

It was next day's evening when they landed on new camp's place. Everyone started arranging their tents and some of them decided to go to the lake and bath after long trip.

- The water is so damn cold! But it was nice to take a bath after all those hours- Iris was talking to Mary-Beth and her teeth were chattering. She decided to wear woolen dress Mary gave to her, not being even slightly suspicious why Iris would wear a dress so badly. It was nice, wine red and warm one. She decided to tweeze her brows a little bit and she brushed her long, black hair putting them in loose bun. Even though she will undress and wear only chemise in her bed in less than 3 hours.

Iris looked around and sighed. All good places for a tent were taken and she couldn't sleep with girls in their tent 'cause it was too small. She had to prepare her own but there was only one way left to do that.

- Knock, knock - she said awkwardly, knocking on one of polls holding Arthur's tent. He was on his coot, drawing something in his journal. It catched her attention. Didn't know he's romantic soul who would sketch while sulking like this.

- How can I help ya? - he closed the book and looked at her shyly. He analysed her posture in new clothes but very quickly so it wouldn't scare her or make her uncomfortable. Girls usually didn't like his sight on them.

- Will it bother you if I will place my tent right next to yours? All good spots were taken when I took a bath - her cheeks flushed a little bit. She even tried to flirt with him and bat her eyes, while she squeezed fabric of her dress.

- It's rather if I won't bother you, kid.

If I could I would devour you right here, Mr Morgan and you would be the only person not bothering me. I would undress you from your bright blue shirt which matches your eyes so good and I would let you pop my cherry...

- You'right out there, kid? Asked ya if I won't bother you.

- N-no, never. Thank you, Mr Morgan - she jumped into the air and disappeared to set her tent. It was mirroring his and when she was looking above her trunk she could see him, deeply in his thoughts. Honestly, if they would rearrange it a little bit more they would have big, shared tent with two beds next to eachother. But she they wasn't close enough for Iris to ask for it even if she wouldn't mind.

Later that night they had supper prepared by her and Mr Pearson. Almost everyone was eating together but she noticed Arthur hidden in his spot. She went to her tent and sat on the coot mirroring his position.

- I hope it tastes good? - Iris asked after few minutes. He raised her eyes surprised at her.

- You eatin' with my poor companion? I see everyone gathering around the fire.

- They're all nice and stuff but I like to eat in peace. You're not bad to be with, Mr Morgan.

It sounded a little bit frivolous and she actually liked it, surprised with her own temper.

He blushed. Or rather tips of his ears did.

- It's just surprising 'cause yall girls are always eating together. And yes, this stew is amazing - he liked his fingers and brushed his dirty mouth with his sleeve.

Normally she would jerk away on this kind of behaviour but she giggled at sight of big man eating messy like that.

- Girls are okay, especially Tilly and Mary, but Karen has...a little bit to intense character. Oh, and Dutch's girlfriend. That lady hates me.

- She hates everybody, dont'cha worry.

- Today she hit Dutch with a book, saying he's throwing me looks - Iris was giggling and she brushed loose hair behind her ear.

- Looks, ya say? Oh don't worry, you just new, that's why he does that, kid.

- She's rather young too, you know. It's just the make-up she uses, makes her look older.

- Ya say? Nah, you still look like kid to me. With all those freckles and you being thin. Not so sure you should go with us to rob that train, I will have to watch you all the time - his voice was low and he chuckled.

Ouch, that was bad! So he doesn't like freckles...It's nothing I can do about it. But maybe if I'm gonna eat more I'll stop being thin, get some bust maybe and then-

- You sure you want to sit here with me? You seemed bored with my old feller talkin'.

- I-I am not bored at all. Can you show me what are you drawing?

He brushed his chin, sign of him being shy and he passed her the journal. On two pages he drew their whole new camp.

- I must say you can draw, Mr Morgan. You've got talent - she passed the journal back and their hands brushed against each other. She blushed again.

- Talent that's useless for sure - his voice was low and nice and he almost sounded like purring cat. Iris felt knot tying up in her stomach.

- It's not, it's not! - she shaked her head - I find it really pretty. You could draw something for me one day - it was supposed to be flirt and she bit her lower lip but he didn't notice that. He just cheered up.

- What you like, then? I can draw it for you - he patted her arm in friendly manner. They were so close right now, their faces next to each other. She could smell him.

What do I like? Your lips, your intriguing eyes, the fact that your hair was so messy and the fact you smell like whiskey, cigarettes and sweat.

- Flowers - she said plainly, looking at her feet - Any flowers are good. Or animals. I saw you sketching deer one day.

- I've been hit on my head a lot so if I would forget remind me of it, kid - she looked at him once again and licked her lower lip, becoming red on her cheeks. He started looking at her quizzically.

- I think you catched a cold, kid, you seem burning up. Better go to sleep, tomorrow's a day too.

Knot in her stomach popped and she lowered her head. Kid, you say. Im gonna show you, one day I will gain weight, have some reall boobs and nice mature dresses and you will look at me the right way. She got up a little bit too quick, tears forming in corner of her eyes but he was facing her back almost immediately and he didn't see.

- Y-you right, I don't feel my best - she answered with shaking voice and she rubbed her eyes - I'm...gonna get some rest. Goodnight, Mr Morgan.

- Uh-, yea, good night - he read her bad, he was sure she's sick but she seemed rather irritated by the fact he noticed? I will apologize tomorrow.

She put on the curtain between the halves of tent which was giving them privacy now and she sighed. At first she looked in small mirror she owned and analised her own face. You ugly, Iris.

Girl looked at herself quizzically. Big, green eyes with long lashes and nice, pink lips but then freckles happened, covering her nose and cheeks. Her hair were jet black but wavy instead of sleek locks of other girls around. Iris started undressing herself and she looked at her figure with disgust. She had round hips and long legs, but that's it. She looked thin and had small breast and that was not what men would look at. It's not what he would look at.

When she put on her night gown and layed down she looking at tents ceiling and thinking. Oil lamp in Arthur's half stopped giving light, he was going to sleep. She heard him getting comfortable on his bed and after few minutes he was breathing heavily.

She drifted away in her sleep, thinking how it would be to cuddle his big frame.

Another few weeks passed and in this time Iris tried her best to prove she's mature and strong but also femine at the same time. It was difficult to kill a man at 4 and then acting like a subtle lady few hours later. It was nice, warm evening and girls decided to go swimming after long day of work. Iris was so happy and relaxed as she and Mary - Beth was looking at red sky and Tilly with Karen was fooling around in water.

- Can I tell you a secret? You will like it - Iris whispered. Mary seemed excited immediately.

- Tell me, tell me! - she giggled

- I fell in love - Iris whispered to her ear and her friend become red from blushing.

-No way! Who, who is he? Or maybe she? - Blond girl tickled brunette a little bit.

- It's him, yes. But I wouldn't mind you...- they purred at each other and then burst into laugh.

- Who? I bet it's John, all girls are sweet on him and Abigail hates us for that.

-Nope!

- Bill!

-No!

- New O'Driscolls boy!

- Ew!

- Then who, Dutch?

- You must be crazy! I mean...he's not bad if you think about him but this red-head witch he's with? I have no chances - Iris was laughing so badly.

- You have to tell me! But then it has to be someone from outside the camp...

-No! He's there, Mary-Beth, please don't make me say his name out loud.

And then Mary became pale. Then red again. Then she got up.

-No! From all of them you choosed Arthur Morgan?!

- Shhh! We are too close to the camp!

- But why?! He's sweet but we have never seen him with woman, you know. I think he's a little bit weird about it. Dutch once laughed at him taking a bath with a dog when camp had one.

- W-Well...he seems a little awkward and he's like wild animal more than a man but he's charming and he always complemented food I make and he always talks to me in the evening.

- At least he talks to you, he usually doesn't. To no one.

- That's my problem, he talks to me but he seemes to see me as a kid. I tried everything! Few days ago I was sitting with him and we was both reading a book and I looked at him so nicely, I tried my best to look at him with hazy, flirting eyes. And he asked me if I needed glasses because I blink a lot.

- Well...I don't know how to help you - Mary said as they were walking towards camp - usually it's easy, a little bit of exposed skin and being close. You should try it.

- I should...I should go to his tent dressing my nightgown for example?

- Oh, that's an idea! I saw it and it's really cute and...hot.

-Mary- Beth, are you hitting on me? - she joked as they was passing Hosea's tent. Girls heard him talking with Arthur and they would ignore but they heard Iris's name. They started listening immediately, hiding behind the tent to eaves dropping.

- And this new girl, Iris's her name - Hosea said.

- What's with her?

- Just wanted to know what you think about her - he seemed to tease Arthur a little bit.

- It's good kid, she seems to like my company. And honestly, I like hers, she doesn't talk that much comparing to any of you fools - he cleared his throat.

- I thought that you are much closer. Basically sharing a tent and talking every evening...

- What d'ya say, Hosea?

- How long have been since you had a woman, Arthur?

- Not long enough to think about it again- his voice became angry in the nick of time - it's kid we talking about, don't get the wrong idea.

Iris inhaled sharply and bit her lower lip, while her eyes became glossy. But she listened, she couldn't stop.

- Isn't it obvious, Arthur? She looks at you very odd way and she enjoys your company a lot, lot more than others.

- I didn't notice. By the way, she's not stupid. I'm much older and I have past, just no way I would be with her. She doesn't love me to start with. One day she will leave the camp to have a normal life.

Sound of tears dropping on Iris's dress was the only sound she was making. She got up quickly and in a blink of an eye disappeared, running into the woods.

- Iris?! - Mary- Beth tried to follow her but she tripped over one of tent's strings. She sweared ugly.

This is bad, so bad - was all Iris was thinking. Her breathing heavy, her eyes red. She stopped in the middle of nowhere, just when she was sure all around her was dark forest. She didn't even know why she was so agry. Maybe because he said out loud things I thought about myself? Maybe because she was sure that his ears getting red were sign of him considering her as someone hot?

But look at yourself, c'mon. When father lived, he always told you you gonna become a maid, because no man would touch something so fragile, that looks constantly sick. He was right, oh so badly right. And now Iris had to apologise to Mary-Beth for leaving her like that.It was dark night when she got back to the camp, everyone sleeping in their tents. Only one oil lamp was glowing. She decided to act like nothing happen, just not to lose his friendship, ever. So she took a deep breath and peaked her head inside his part of tent.

- Just wanted to say good night, Mr Morgan - was all she said, smiling faintly.

- Kid! You weren't there for supper. Did something happened?

- N-no...just small fight with girls - she lied without hesitation. Then smiled a little bit more so he won't be suspicious. He always was but he was taking her lies as an answer, 'cause she lied when it would expose her feelings.

- Small fight made you disappear without word? Y'got hot head then - he joked. His blue eyes were piercing her.

- Maybe a little - he didn't see nothing good about her anyway, she could become hothead in his eyes even it was inappropriate for woman.

- Wanna talk about it?

- With you? I-I mean we can but it's nothing. Really.

- You seem sad lately, kid. Is someone or something bothering you?

- Ah...no, just stupid, girly things.

- Girly things - he seemed a little bit scared now.

- Interests of heart, to call it. Nothing too exciting, especially for you.

He became silent. So she wasn't considering him as a close friend if she didn't want to tell. He thought different for a second but...she was right, he was no friend.

- Were you ever in love, Mr Morgan? - he heard her voice from behind one of trunks. She probably lied on her bed.

- F'course I was. But if you askin' me 'bout those things ya need to share with me first, ya know? What are those Interests of heart, huh?

She took deep breath. After few seconds she knew how to tell it without being obvious.

- I just fell in love with someone who will never accept me. He's good friend and that's only reason I didn't tell him yet. But I know....I heard what's he talking about me, no need to share my feelings with him, because he considers me strongly as a friend, nothing more. It would make our relationship awkward.

He furrowed his brows. So she was seeing someone. He wondered who.

- That sounds a lil' bit bad, kiddo. Maybe I don't look like but I know how to have a broken heart - he said as his eyes become glossy. She couldn't see them anyway, so he didn't hold back thinking about Mary right now - But if it's your friend he shouldn't judge ya, ya know. Even if he doesn't share feelings with you. You sure, he does not?

- One hundred percent sure - she said that very slowly because those words left bitter on her tongue - and I'm not afraid of being judged, I just know it would destroy our friendship.

- He's no friend then - Arthur replied shortly. He felt like dumbass but if she liked talking to him about all of this he felt appreciated.

Iris took deep breath. You are a friend. The closest one I have now after those weeks that passed. And I will cherish you forever, even if your lack of knowledge will hurt me sometimes.

- He is. About this I'm sure. I really love this person. Thank you, Mr Morgan for listening to me - it sounded like she thanked him for listening but she was actually thanking him for everything.

It seemed like yesterday when they rescued her but it wasn't. Many days passed and she already shared with him many thoughts but also many jobs, even dangerous one. They robbed trains together after all. They was murdering together. And every evening they were lying in their beds and talking. They usually looked at their tent's ceiling but she didn't mind. He seemed so sad and distanced, always worried. She also noticed his extremely low self-esteem, he always was talking that he's not good man and that he's stupid on account being hit on the head to often.

She had fallen asleep to those thoughts.

[fandom-will-be-my-fall]

Spill your heart out about Walter.

Okay so I basically got this question in what, January?? but I’m answering it now since I just rewatched the movie and have inspiration, sorry for the late reply Anon

Okay so, to start off this post with some keyboard smashing because that my primary go-to for expressing my emotions

sgklhfsgjksdlgdghkjlgjhOHUFLUSKHDGSLIDRGKJGKFSDHGlhjglksdhkglshglllllfa. knjcthxiudhusmnvsoidhéytbvonjyxclkkvbr. haeylicfvshdkgikc

HANDSOME BOY. HANDSOME. ‘NUFF SAID.

I could legit stare all day at his beautiful face… look at him. Enchanting sky blue eyes… fluffy, wavy brown hair, cute round cheeks, lovely smile… those hidden freckles that you can hardly spot and only in certain screenshots but nevertheless they’re there to raise the cuteness factor… ALSO HIS LASHES. MAYBE IT’S NATURAL?? MAYBE IT’S MAYBELLINE?? WE SHALL NEVER KNOW

Here you may be able to spot the freckles if you squint hard enough. I have 77 screenshots but this is the best example I could find.

Secondly… well, he’s a sticc. A short sticc at that (though still slightly taller than me bc I’m smol), but a sticc regardless! And that seems to be the most attractive cartoon body type for me. Don’t judge me, I just have a thing for twinks, I’m… twinksexual or whatever.

Look at him! He would fit through my doorcrack.

(Maaaybe the reason for me liking sticcs so much is partially the fact that I like the idea of a boyfriend I can protect and support, physically and emotionally. I’m mad at the universe for not letting me scoop him up in my arms bridal style and smooch the HECK outta him.)

I’ve encountered a few posts that claimed he’s got cake but, come on. That concept has canonically been proven to be false, even by Lance. This man is flat and you can pry this opinion off my cold, dead hands.

Speaking of hands! I like his big ol hands. Nice shape. They look soft. I wanna hold them.

According to a DVD commentary, and the visual facts, he has no shoulders whatsoever. Back in Venice Killian was able to restrain him effortlessly with only one foot on his chest, even as he kept struggling ans squirming and generally put in as much effort as he possibly could. Before then, he claimed the database was the first thing he has ever caught in his life.

Conclusion, our boi’s very much NOT athletic. Which makes sense for a scientist, braining all day and stuff, and because he probably barely even eats, or sleeps which are by the way both pretty concerning implications but anyway.

STOP BEATING UP THIS POOR FRAGILE LAD FOR GOD’S SAKE. Makes me want to protect him even more. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but you get what I mean.

Now, on to the actual reason I’m so head over heels for him, a.k.a his personality.

He is one of the sweetest, kindest, purest boy characters I have ever seen in fiction, if not THE number one himself. (All my other cinnamon roll crushes are, or have been a villain at some point and WILL resort to violence if provoked.) Look at him, his pacifism… is unbreakable. He’s dead set on making the world a better place, by peaceful ways, and helping humanity. If that’s not a quality to be cherished then IDK what is.

And he’s just such a refreshing character. He likes pink, K-dramas, glitter, kittens, things that aren’t traditionally “masculine” (but is never made fun of those things in particular in the movie) and I love that. Nothing’s sexier than a man who’s, despite society’s shitty standards, openly and unashamedly himself!

His femininity is, if anything, just another turn-on. (This didn’t intend to sound sexual… but oh well.) I love his little hand gestures and mannerisms, dorky ramblings, the way he says “yep” popping the “p” at the end, all the small yet significant traits that were incorporated into his character. Bless you, SiD creators, bless you.

Have I said that he’s a genius?? Which is pretty obvious but c’mon, he graduated at 15!! He can modify human genes!! He successfully turned a man into a pigeon on the first try!! (The serum wasn’t the first prototype but we can assume he didn’t experiment on living humans with the previous ones.) And he’s still just 20!! Like what is that if not hella fucking impressive???!??

His inventions, to the untrained eye, may seem “stupid” or “childish” but alas! The observer couldn’t be more wrong! Because despite the odd designs and themes they’re all highly effective, as we have witnessed in the battle against Killian. And he is extremely creative for coming up with such ideas! Told you he’s brilliant!!

Which makes me all the sadder about how much they underappreciated him at the agency. In his words, nobody ever listened to him, or gave him a chance. They just left him and his “weird” ideas next to the men’s bathroom and called it a day. How could they be so blind? Didn’t they see the potential in his inventions? Oh well. Maybe I’m just being a smartass bc I have more knowledge, living outside that universe. But I’m totally right.

And I was honestly ready to throw hands with Lance for hurting the boi even further. (I’d stand no chance whatsoever, but still.)

Oh no baby please don’t cry.

He did cry in that scene though… you could see a tear rolling down his cheek and if it wasn’t for the machine beeping… He did have a pretty rough day afterall. But HEY, if we dwell on it too much the scene loses its comedic effect!! A guy gets sad over a stupid soap opera, har har har!! Now let’s move on, keep it fast and snappy for the kids, don’t let them overthink it!! Can’t have any emotional breakdowns onscreen. Keep it lighthearted y’know. Then let’s kill a random side character and have our dear protagonist almost die twice.

(Well jokes on you Blue Sky! I’m no kid, but a devoted fangirl who can and will overthink any material of my fictional faves at any given opportunity.)

You know what else I love about him though?? His love for animals!! And pigeons, especially Lovey!! He loves her so much, gives her gluten free breadcrumbs, nuzzles her, the first thing he does when he finds out Lance can talk to the pigeons is ask if she loves him too!! Like… That’s so pure and wholesome.

This here. THIS RIGHT HERE. BROTP forever.

(Not gonna lie, I used to be crazy for pigeons for like, an entire year or something. Not as in looking up all the facts there are about pigeons as I do nowadays with cartoons, but I’d feed them regularly and write my little observations on their behaviors. Did you know they sometimes scratch their neck with their leggies like dogs do?)

I think I’ve summed up mostly everything I love about this nerd. Oh wait, almost forgot the sass!! I love how sassy and smug he can be sometimes, in like, a really harmless way but it’s still a very nice characteristic.

Since I’ve ran out of coherent things to say, here’s an incomplete list of things I want to do to Walter Beckett. Put at the end of this post so those of you who were only here for the analysis part and not the selfshippy gushing don’t have to read further:

kiss he

like seriously

just kiss he a whole lot

cover his whole face in kisses

one kiss for each of his freckles. a finishing kiss onto the tip of his nose. then repeat the cycle

hug him. hug him like the world is ending. hug him so tight he can barely breathe

then ofc let go and apologize bc I would never hurt him on purpose

cuddle him

hold him close, let him lay his head on my chest

run my fingers through his hair

listen to his breathing

discover that he’s fallen asleep on me and smile fondly, then soon drift off to sleep myself so we can wake up entangled in eachother the next morning

fuck he

pin him to a wall and snog he

make him go cherry red

fluster he

compliment him. praise him. appreciate him. he’s a prince, a hero, an angel, a wonderful human being and he needs to know this

feed pigeons together

listen to his scientific ramblings and bird facts

write him love letters and give them to him. maybe read it aloud myself if I’m feeling brave so I can see his reaction in real time

serenade he

be the love of his life, and have him be mine

just… soft things, man

cook something for this malnourished sticc

make him small handmade gifts

they’re nothing like his gadgets but I tried

draw he

have him be my muse in general

not like he isn’t now but it would be lovely if he was real too

carry him bridal style

be the feral cryptid that lurks in his house when he isn’t around

sing along to cheesy pop-song together really badly

watch cheesy rom coms

flirt with eachother clumsily until we’re both laughing at our awkwardness

or, alternatively, shower him with compliments until he literally cannot handle it

have sleepovers together

give him hand kisses

be of emotional support

[midnightprelude]

Fictober: Party Games

Prompt number: 15, that’s what I’m talking about

Fandom: Dragon Age

Rating: Mature

Warnings/Tags: Yep, that’ll be fluff again. And food fights

Pairings: Dorian/Anders, my lovely mage bois

This whole thing is the sole responsibility of @johaeryslavellan and @thesaltyhealer. Thank you, you beautiful people. <3

“Must I come with you, love? I love dressing up as much as the next man, but… to a child’s birthday party? It seems rather strange. And if we’re together…” Anders shook his head. “I would really rather prefer to stay home, drink some wine, run a bath, eat some grapes…”

Dorian shrugged. “If my attendance is required, then so is yours, by my own decree. Besides, you’d be better than me at this anyway. You’re excellent with children.”

Anders arched a brow at that comment. “What exactly are you saying about me…?”

He laughed. “You’re a child.” He put his hands up in surrender at Anders’s playful glare. “At heart, at heart. Not in truth.”

“You’re the irritating one, don’t you know?” Anders rolled his eyes. “Not me. I’m nothing but perfectly pleasant.” He huffed. “A child… really?”

“It’s that youthful look of wonder and boyish grin.” Dorian pulled him close, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Take it as a compliment! You’ll have strapping young people complimenting you on your appearance until well into your seventies, I’m convinced.”

Anders sighed, kissing Dorian on the nose. “You should be glad I like you, or I’d set those fancy robes of yours ablaze.”

Dorian looked at him in mock horror. “You would never! These are handwoven Antivan silk. I had to pay Josephine a fortune to get them!”

Fire erupted from Anders’s palm and the man winked. “Don’t try my patience, Magister.”

The audacity!

Anders only ever called him that when he was in trouble or when he wanted to sleep with him. Dorian couldn’t tell which was the case in this instance. He decided it was probably the former.

“Fine, I’m sorry. But please come with me. I’m sure we can find a way to make it fun.”

Anders grinned. “See, you just needed to ask nicely and I would have said yes!”

Dorian looked at him suspiciously. “I did ask nicely the first time and you rejected me.”

“Well, if you’ll recall, I was merely questioning whether I needed to go. You’ve made it clear that I do, to keep you out of trouble at the very least. I never said I wouldn’t go. I just said there were better things for me to do here, in your lovely manse.”

Dorian kissed him again, lips full of mischief. “I can think of some better things to do, amatus. We need not start getting ready for another hour or so...”

Anders seemed convinced, his lips opening slightly against Dorian’s. He wrapped his arms around Dorian’s shoulders, one hand behind his head, running his fingers lazily through his close-cropped hair.

“Fine,” Anders said. “You got me. An hour though… That’s plenty of time.”

Dorian raised his eyebrows, knowing the answer before he asked the question. “For what, amatus?”

“To find ourselves well and truly debauched.”

The words sent a wave of heat through his body, from his lips to his toes.

Anders may look like he’s a Chantry choirboy, but he’s got the most creative amorous repertoire of anyone I’ve ever met.

It was turning into quite a strange day.

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

Anders’s reaction to the party was predictable; he always made the same face when discovering a new aristocratic normalcy. The “party” if it could be called that, was at another magister’s palace, held in a sprawling labyrinth of gardens. There was a small lake towards the center and several miniature boats had been enchanted to allow the children to race them across the waters. He counted at least seven different exotic animals being led around the square, and a flock of peacocks was squawking at passers-by and trying to steal pieces of cake.

Anders would always get a dazed look about him, like he had stumbled into some sort of mystical land that he couldn’t quite comprehend and definitely didn’t trust as real. His eyes would go as wide as saucers and he would get an even more ridiculous than usual grin plastered across his face. All of his usual nervous energy would be drained for a few heartbeats before turning into a jittering excitement. It was infectious. There was a reason Dorian wanted him along.

“You didn’t say…” Anders was still in shock. “This is a child’s birthday? When I was a child, I was lucky to get another helping of bread. And after Kinloch… I forgot the day altogether.”

Dorian wrapped an arm around him from the side, drawing Anders close and kissing his head, gently. He almost felt bad bringing him to things like this; if Anders didn’t seem to clearly love them he would have stopped long ago. The gulf between their upbringings were so wide--Dorian had had similar parties every year.

The thing about a party for a magister’s children though, was that it was never about the child. The parents didn’t care a fig about the child’s preferences. More than once, Dorian had requested that all he wanted for his birthday was a quiet afternoon and his father to pick up a few restricted books from the Senatorial library. His requests were, of course, ignored. His parents threw a ridiculous celebration like the one they currently attended, with people Dorian didn’t like, with activities Dorian didn’t prefer, and with food Dorian thought tasted oversweet and cloying.

He took Anders’s hand. “Come on, let’s try and find the guest of honor and pay our respects.”

Anders laughed. “Pay our respects? You make it sound like a funeral! This is a carnival.”

“Most likely not.” He sighed. “Let’s go then.”

Weaving through the crowds, they eventually found the high table. A sullen looking pre-teen boy sat there, a fork slowly picking at a pile of cake. Dorian had met the young man before; he was turning twelve or thirteen, probably not wanting to be around all of these people. He could relate.

He sidled across to him, Anders in tow. “Hello there.”

The boy could hardly suppress a groan.

Dorian raised an eyebrow, his lips forming a wry smile. “Dreadful affair, isn’t it? All these people cooing over you like this? What’s your name? Mine’s Dorian. And this beautiful fool here is Anders.”

The kid looked at him suspiciously. “What are you playing at? Did my mother send you to see if I’m having a good time?” He waved a finger in the air. “Oh, look at me, what a wonderful way to spend a day: out in the sun and surrounded by idiots. You can report back to her that everything is positively immaculate and I’m having the time of my life.” His voice dripped with sarcasm only possible by teenagers.

Dorian grinned fully this time, turning to Anders, “You know what, I rather like this little ass. He sees the truth of things.”

He turned to the kid conspiratorially. “If you give me your name, we can play a game. It’ll be much more fun than anything these poor sods will have cooked up for your entertainment. What do you say?”

The boy eyed him behind his black fringe. “Vero… I don’t trust you, but anything is more interesting than sitting up here alone like a prized goose.”

“Well then, Vero. I have a proposition. We play a little game and the winner gets this bottle of Rowan’s Rose I intended to give you as a gift.” He reached into his robes and produced a bottle of wine.

The boy grabbed for it, but Dorian was too quick. “Now, now then. That’s not very sporting. We have a game. We play for our alcohol, like men. And you don’t tell your parents. Understood?” Dorian’s look was deathly serious.

The boy nodded, extending his hand. “On my honor. What are the terms?”

Dorian laughed. “Simple. We pelt these other fools with food.”

The boy looked confused.

“There’s  point system, you see. Hit a servant, you lose five points. They don’t deserve that treatment. Hit an Altus, that’s five. A Magister, that’s the usual five plus an extra ten. I don’t count, of course. Hit the Archon… That’s one hundred. If your target manages to eat the food out of the air, you earn two hundred and fifty.” He held up a finger, silencing the boy. “But, if they discover their assailant, then you lose one hundred points.”

Anders blanched. “No, you can’t encourage him to…” He paused, his eyes getting a faraway look. “Actually, Justice quite approves of this idea. He’s not usually one for frivolities, but he’ll make an exception this once.”

Anders picked up a bunch of grapes, separating them from their vine one by one. “You’re ridiculous, you know.”

Dorian laughed. “I know.” He pulled Anders close and whispered in his ear. “But if this isn’t the best birthday that kid ever has, I’ll eat my own robe.”

Anders grinned. “I thought you said it was fine Antivan silk?”

“I’ll make an exception to make a point.”

Anders picked up a bit of forgotten cake from Vero’s plate, eyed it, and then smashed it into Dorian’s face. “Is that fifteen for me, then?” he said playfully.

Dorian rolled his eyes, licking the frosting off his cheeks as best he could. “I said I didn’t count!” He felt an apple hitting him from behind and turned to see Vero looking like he had just won their contest. “That hurt. You both lose one hundred points.”

Anders pulled him close, running his finger through the frosting still coating Dorian’s face. “It was worth it, just for this, love.” Anders proceeded to kiss him on his cheek, using his tongue to remove the residual cake from Dorian’s face.

While he was distracted, Dorian grabbed a pie tin from the table and upended it on Anders’s head. “Looks like we’re all even now. I lose one hundred as well.”

Cherries were running down his cheeks, bits of crust stuck against his scalp. His hair was stained red from the juice. His robes were utterly ruined.

Anders just laughed.

[tis-i-the-most-uncooked-fry]

2, 5, 9, 10, 11, 17, 20, 21, 23, 33, 44, 47, 56, 57, 59, 66, 74, 87 for all

~Ylva~

2: She has a very silvery voice, so clear, light, and pleasant to listen to.

5: She just kinda walk it off and say she’s fine with gritted teeth. She won’t admit she needs help and will accept it when she’s dropped to the ground in pain.

9: She toss and turns a lot at night much to Vilkas’s dismay.

10: She absolutely loves lavender dumplings, but any kind of baked good in general.

11: Since she uses magic she sometimes get insecure about other Nords shunning her since magic isn’t honorable.

17: Oh drunk Ylva is entertainment..for the other patrons…She’s very clingy and affectionate, personal space? She’s never heard of it. She also has very loose lips when she’s drunk so expect the secret you told her to the latest town gossip the next day.

20: Small dark spaces, the people she cares for getting hurt, and spiders.

21: Rain. She loves the sound of it, the smell, and the atmosphere it creates.

23: Books and alchemy ingredients yes.

33: The amulet of Talos she wears was her fathers that he gave to her before he died.

44: She’s a honorable person that drops everything to help the people she cares for, having her in your corner is a good thing.

47: I’d hope so, she’s married to Vilkas.

56: Probably Gryffindor.

57: I’d say she’s Chaotic Good.

59: She slightly fears death. After what happened to Kodlak she fears the same thing will happen to her but she can’t bring herself to cure herself of lycanthropy yet,but she plans to because she wants to be with her dad again in Sovngarde.

66: She loves it, she’s into some pretty kinky shit too ;)

74: It takes a lot to make her mad but if you do manage to, you better fucking run because she’s out for blood. There’s been a handful of times that Vilkas has had to physically pull her off of someone before she beat them to death.

87: She’s a young 23 year old.

~Tayani~

2. She has a smokey voice being a Dunmer and all that.

5. She grits her teeth and angrily waves the people that tries to help her off.

9: She sleeps with one eye open and never in the same place twice except for the sanctuary.

10: Sujamma..just sujamma.

11: She feels insecure about her people skills..she’s always so hostile towards people and she hates it.

17: She’s a very emotional drunk..she’ll apologize for past wrongs and break down crying afterwards.

20: She fears loosing the people she cares about and being alone.

21: She likes warm sunny days the most because it always seems to change her mood for the better.

23: She likes to collect different daggers she finds.

33: She has a bracelet her brother bought her for her 10th birthday that she treasures.

44: Despite having a hard and hostile exterior she has softer easy going side that she doesn’t show often and only select people.

47: After traveling with Teldryn for a few months she finds herself not guarding her walls as much as she used to and much to her dismay she has devoped feelings for him.

56: She’d definitely be a Slytherin.

57: Neutral evil is a perfect example of her.

59: On one hand she doesn’t really care but on the other she’s not keen on the idea of it.

66: She’s very cautious when it comes to sex and she’s only had a handful of partners.

74: Its very easy to make her angry and if you do you won’t have a chance to apologize because you’ll probably already be dead.

87: She’s 22

~Galiena~

2: She is a very softly spoken person.

5: She’s got enough common sense to ask for help when she’s injured but she’ll scream her head off in agony if it’s really bad.

9: She’s a very light sleeper so it takes her a while to fall asleep.

10: She really loves Shepherd’s Pie because it’s what her other used to make a lot when she was a kid.

11: She’s lowkey insecure about her height when she’s around Nords.

17: She’s a very giggly drunk, everything is funny to her and you’ll have to carry her back to her bed.

20: Putting her friends and family in danger, small dark spaces, and heights.

21: The light drizzle of rain that makes the air smell fresh and makes everything more cozy.

23: She likes to collect necklaces from all the places (houses she’s stolen from) she’s been.

33: A locket that belonged to her mother that she never ever takes off.

44: She’s really a sweet girl when you get to know her just a…little..guarded..

47: She has a HUGE crush on Delvin and Brynjolf, she thinks they don’t notice but let me tell you..they do.

56: She’s a Ravenclaw ftw.

57: Chaotic Neutral definitely.

59: She’s afraid of it yes but at the same time she knows she’ll get to see her mom again.

66: Being a virgin she has no experience but has a good idea of what to do and can’t wait to try it out.

74: Considering she’s ticking time bomb she’s very easily angered, and its like the Oblivion Gates have opened up once again.

87: She’s a wee 21 year old.

~Adahy~

2: He has a very throaty voice that makes him seem older than he actually is.

5: He’s skilled enough where he doesn’t get injured often but when he does he will kindly ask for help.

9: He’s an average sleeper, he stays in one spot and hardly moves all night.

10: He LOVES snowberry crostatas, well any kind of crostatas really.

11: Being a Bosmer he’s very insecure about his height when compared to others.

17: When drunk he gets a false sense of bravado and it ends up getting him a black eye most of the time.

20: He has a fear of water, or more accurately drowning.

21: Rain because it masks his scent and he can better stay off of an animals radar longer.

23: The antlers or teeth of his kills.

33: A saber cat tooth his best friend gave him before he left Valenwood.

44: He’s really a stand up guy and generally pleasant to be around.

56: He’s a Slytherinfor sure.

57: Neutral Good.

59: He doesn’t care either way he just wants to make the most out of his life.

66: This man is one kinky fuck let me tell you. So needless to say he loves it.

74: He’s a pretty chill guy so it takes a lot to make him mad. When he is mad you have a chance to apologize but if you don’t he’ll probably either sit down and simmer or break your nose.

87: He be 24.

~Telnian~

2: He has a very husky voice that has women and men dropping to their knees.

5: He’ll admit that he’s been injured and will kindly ask for help to dress his wounds. Not without groaning in pain for a little while though.

9: He sleeps pretty soundly, but will wake up say if a twig snaps. He also turns a few times in his sleep.

10: He’s a huge fan of horker stew because it reminds him of when he was a boy.

11: He hates it but sometimes he gets insecure about being an Altmer. Even though he was born and raised in Skyrim people judge him before they even know him.

17: He’s a flirtatious drunk. Anyone in sight is fair game too.

20: He fears disappointing those who look up to and care for him the most.

21: He loves bright sunny days because he loves getting to see the world when it’s most bright and vibrant.

23: He collects samples of plants he finds interesting and researches them later.

33: A small whittled hawk sculpture that his mother made him when he was young.

44: He’s the sweetest and smartest guy around, who could not? He just has that charm that draws everyone to him.

56: He’s definitely a Ravenclaw.

57: He’s Lawful Good.

59: He doesn’t dwell on it just makes the best of every day and thanks the Divines when he gets to live another.

66: He’s had 3 partners at max but don’t you dare think for one minute that he’s inexperienced this man would have you begging in 5 minutes min.

74: Being the sweetie he is he never really gets angry but if he does he tries to hold his tongue and defuse the situation without violence.

87: He’s 24.

~Runa~

2: She has a small voice which makes people ask her to repeat herself.

5: She is pretty tolerant to pain will let you know when she’s injured.

9: Depends on how tired she is, either she falls asleep in 5 minutes and can’t be woken or she stares at the ceiling for 3 hours before finally falling asleep later to be rudely awoken by a loud crash.

10: She’s such a child at heart, this girl loves sweetrolls out of all foods.

11: Since she was just a hunter when she joined the Companions and can’t fight with anything bigger than a dagger she’s very insecure about her fighting skills.

17: She’s only gotten drunk once and that unfortunately was on full display to all the Companions…She gets really clingy and giggly..The poor girl was mortified when she learned she latched onto Farkas and Vilkas had to pry her off of him.

20: After loosing her parents in a fire she has a massive fear of loosing others that she cares for..that being said she gets jumpy around fire for that reason…

21: Sunny still days are her favorite.

23: She collects pretty or interesting rocks in her travels and displays them proudly on a shelf when she returns home.

33: An emerald ring that belonged to her mother and the bow her father gave her for her 16th birthday.

44: She’s a super sweet girl that’s actually the embodiment of sunshine, only a monster with no heart would hate her.

56: She’s a Hufflepuff.

57: Lawful Good.

59: She does hate the idea of it but she knows she’ll go to Sovngarde so she isn’t petrified of it.

66: Oh how sweet and naive this little virgin is, she gets super shy when it’s discussed but she does want to try it..with Farkas What? I didn’t say anything.

74: She hardly ever gets mad but when she does she’s a angry crier.

87: This sweetie is only 19.

~Yazmar~

2: He has a VERY guttural voice one where you can hear each consonant in his chest.

5: TOO. MUCH. PRIDE. He will not ask for help and hostile if you try to help.

9: He sleeps like a rock, not even Alduin himself could wake him.

10: He really likes venison stew, or really anything that contains meat.

11: He occasionally gets really insecure about harsh exterior but it passes.

17: He’s an angry drunk, everyone’s out to get him and against him.

20: He has a small irrational fear of skeevers any time he gets around them his skin crawls.

21: He loves dark clouds and thundering lighting followed by a downpour.

23: No not really.

33: A piece of braided twine that’s tied to his sword given to him by a cherished friend.

44: He has a unbelievably harsh exterior but when you actually take the time to get to know him he’s actually a really nice guy.

56: Gryffindorall the way.

57: He’s a True Neutral, he doesn’t care either way.

59: Being an Orc he doesn’t really care if he lives or dies.

66: Doesn’t do it often but when he does OH wOw HE iS hArD AnD RoUgH.

74: He’s pretty level headed but when he does get angry his Berserker Rage really shows when he breaks your spine in two.

87: He’s 25.

FINALLY IM DONE OH MY GOD.

[elpinicerhymeswithmagnifique]

They meet in a pub ten years after the war.

(One) (Two) (On ao3.)

Two

The next day, Harry is gone.

Charlie awakes slowly, blinking into the blurry light of late morning. The bed beside him is empty and cold.

He sits up and yawns widely. With heavy arms, he grabs his cigarettes from the ground and opens the window.

In a cup on the windowsill is a lonely fag end. He imagines Harry standing there beside the bed, leaning outside the window, maybe still naked, absent and inscrutable, maybe watching Charlie sleep.

He had been surprising last night, all grace and sure and silent.  

How his hands had grabbed the sheet in search for hold when Charlie had sucked him. He had been quiet, but so, so delicately responsive under his hands. The curve of his ass had been perfect in Charlie´s palms and his writhing had stolen Charlie´s breath away.

He smiles faintly.

Then he stubs out the smoke next to the other and gets up.

___________________

 He doesn´t expect anything, so he is and isn´t surprised when Harry walks into the bar two evenings later. It´s fuller and louder this time. Charlie and Mort draw beer after beer, fill rounds of shots, silently working with and around each other, years of routine between them.

There hadn´t been a note or a sign from Harry save the cigarette in the cup. Charlie is too old to read too much into a night of sex - even if it had been a night of amazing sex with a ghost of the past – and so he only thought slightly blue about soft skin and wet lips, but didn´t wait for anything. (And didn´t move the cup from the windowsill.)

Harry comes to the counter and orders a cider, his eyes following Charlie, but he says nothing more than two words. He only gives a faint smile and goes to sit in a far corner, pulling a small book out of his jacket. He´s wearing the same dark blue sweater as last time.

Charlie keeps doing his job, aware of Mort and the small knowing smile on the face of the wrinkled bastard.

After two or three hours, it gets quieter and they take a break, leaning against the register.

Mort drinks half of his beer before he says something in his husky voice, earned from a life that´s majority was spent with a smoke between his lips. “You should go talk to him,” he nods in Harry´s direction. “He seems lonely.”

Charlie snorts. “You go talk to him then. You´re far better at consoling the lost.”

The old man squints at him, doubt written over his features. “I´m not the one he´s here for, brat. Or should I snog him and take him home, too?” he scoffs.

“Rima will be delighted.”

(Mort´s wife is the driest, most hard-nosed person Charlie has ever met, reminding him a lot of Professor McGonagall. The first time they´d met, she told him how she captured a ship, full of grown fishermen, and went after her wastrel father, seventeen years old and her crying baby sister on her hips, back when the last century was still shaking in the aftershocks of two world wars. That´s how she met Mort, a nine years older fisherman on said ship, who had fled from his home, because his skin was too dark and his mother too Jewish.)

Mort chuckles quietly and lights their cigarettes. The crowfeet on his face seem to deepen in the light and shadows.

Charlie eyes Harry. He is still reading in the corner, a third cider nearly empty in front of him. He seems tired.

“He doesn´t seem like talking,” Charlie states shrugging.

“Well, then just bite him like last time. He didn´t seem to mind.”

He rolls his eyes. “You don´t know him, Mort.” Not that Charlie knows him either.

“Oh, yeah?” Mort huffs, half annoyed, half-amused, and empties his bottle. “I don´t need to know him to recognize a lonely boy who´s seeking for company. I´ve seen enough of them. Plus,” he sneers down on Charlie, “d´you think, the long-lost hero of the whole British Wizarding World would be long-lost, if he keeps visiting the work place of his old folks?”

The bloody bastard looks smug as Charlie coughs on his cigarette. “Thought I wouldn´t recognize him, hm? I may be an old Irish man with a bar in the States, but I´m not stupid,” he bites, looking rather pleased with himself. “Now get lost.” He puts out his cigarette, turns around without another word and takes the order of two women.

Charlie slowly exhales.

___________________

 Harry looks up from his book when Charlie puts two beers on the table and sits down opposite of him.

They watch each other. Charlie asks himself, not for the first time in the last three days, what has happened to his hands.

They´re calloused and their backs are scarred all over, scar next to scar over more scars, like a map of hurt, faintly painted with white acrylic paint. They remind Charlie of the one nasty torus on his own upper back. He wants to ask him, wants to point at his fingers and say, what happened that you punished yourself like this and refused proper treatment – but he doesn´t.

Because Harry talked near to nothing two nights ago and looks as worn out as back then. Because he´s oddly calm, like he´s seen so much and is tired of that, and Charlie bets his tips of the whole month he wouldn´t be the first person to ask him and get no answer.

But mostly because Harry reminds him of the wild cat he used to feed as a kid, a huge old stray, with ugly scars over the left side of its face and only one ear.

It never let Charlie near it, no matter how often he fed it or waited patiently twenty feet away. One too loud word from his brothers or one step too near, and it disappeared silently into the fields and meadows behind the Burrow. It liked to sleep up in a cherry tree, out of reach and far away from prying eyes, only coming down when it wanted something.

But sometimes, Charlie would find dead mice and small birds outside his window.

And one time, in his last summer at home, he fell asleep on the grass, hiding behind his father´s old shed – exhausted from chasing the twins and Ginny´s never ending chatter, fleeing his mother´s nagging about his decision to go to Romania after his diploma – and when he woke up, there was dark cat hair all over the left side of his jeans and a tail disappearing between the bushes.

He has a feeling that Harry, too, would leave the second Charlie gets too near.

So, instead, he blows the smoke between them and nods towards the book.

“What´s it `bout?”

Harry gives him a level look, his head tilted. Glancing at the book, he says, “A mysterious hotel in New York City, where people tend to vanish.”

“Ah, crime. Who´s the culprit?

“Angels.”

Charlie raises his eyebrows. “Is it good?”

Harry nods and grabs one of the bottles. Charlie is caught by the way his throat moves as he swallows, a hot wave of lust flushing through his body – wet lips wrapped around his cock, swallowing something entirely different - and when he sees Harry´s smirk, he suspects that that was exactly the intention.

Charlie was right, Harry´s not in the mood for talking. They sit silently across from each other, drinking and smoking, stealing glances at the other. Charlie hears Mort laughing hoarsely at some joke he´s telling two young women who could be his granddaughters. The crowd´s good tonight.

“How long have you been working here?”, Harry asks.

Maybe talking after all. Huh.

Charlie shrugs. “Four years. Actually, I own some parts of it. Mort made me partner couple years ago.” He points his thumb vaguely in Mort´s direction at the bar. Harry follows and smiles flimsily.

Charlie questions tentatively, “You´re working somewhere?”

For a moment, Harry looks like he´s going to withdraw, as if the question already has been too much. Then he shrugs similarly to Charlie before. “Yeah. Small Bookstore.”

Charlie´s not surprised, surprisingly. It somehow fits him now. He can almost see Harry sitting in a dusty old shop, surrounded by shelves, drinking tea and reading. Like a cat dozing in his favorite spot, hidden from the world.

Harry yanks him out of his thoughts.

“When´s your shift over?”

His voice is rough and Charlie feels the hair on his forearms rising. His eyes flicker to Harry´s lips and he wets his own, just to see how Harry tilts his head again and opens his mouth slightly, breathing out.

“How ´bout now.”

“Good.”

Charlie sees Mort grinning smugly when they leave. He flips him off behind his back as he follows Harry through the door.

___________________

 The night is cold, but Charlie lives near the pub, only two corners away in a little flat with two rooms and a kitchen. They walk in silence, their hands deep in their pockets.

When Charlie gets the keys out in front of his apartment building, Harry shuffles into his space and they just stand like this in the doorway, breathing against each other, their faces only an inch apart. Harry looks dark in the faint streetlights, like an unfathomable siren who lures every person unguarded enough into his trap with just one look and one word from his sinful lips, and Charlie is going to be one of the many poor souls that have fallen for him.

Harry´s eyelids drop and he closes the last gap. It´s an almost natural motion, without any hesitation or prolonging, as if there isn´t a past connecting them, no silences and unspoken questions. As if they´re just two men stumbling upon each other on the first nights of a cold autumn, who decide to linger in the same space a little longer.

The kiss is light, a promise for more, but a smouldering heat´s boiling underneath it.

Charlie takes his head in both hands, keys falling to the ground, and deepens the kiss, relishing in the low moan escaping Harry.

It´s so much, so much desperation and loneliness, lust and want. He has the presentiment of never feeling this ever again, if he´s not very cautious.

Harry grabs him by the hips and presses them closer together, his tongue searching for Charlie´s in a way Charlie can´t help but admire.

Caution never came easy to Charlie, only with animals and others, but he never got the hang of it for his own life, for himself. He always jumps straight into opportunities, not even thinking through remotely how he will end up or if he will be getting hurt. It´s his greatest weakness and strength, his boss in the infirmary once told him, after he had fallen for and into the bed of an intern from Alaska, who´d crushed his heart in pieces when she left without so much as a note. (This, and his ability to soothe any living animal on this planet with only his hands.) She warned him, that one day he would fall so deep, not being cautious and not caring for the consequences, he may not stand up again.

And so, fourteen years later, he falls without care as he kisses this beautiful boy, who turned up in his life out of the blue.

Because Harry is lonely. Because Charlie spent hours and hours sitting twenty feet away from a lonely cat when he was only sixteen. Because he wouldn´t even hesitate for a second to do it again, if it means to give the lonely cat a place to stay and sleep and eat, regardless of whether he gets something in return or just his heart broken. Because Harry is breathtaking and the only thing Charlie is able to see in this moment.

He´ll give him everything Harry allows him to give.

“Inside,” Harry breathes into his skin, “now.”

[themurphyzone]

All Time Travelers Go to Heaven Ch 10

 Ch 10- Paradise Lost

The men led them through the village, surrounding them on all sides so they couldn’t escape. Balthazar and Vinnie kept Milo between them for safety, eyeing the heavy guns several of the men carried. 

Vinnie and Milo’s clothing stood out, brightly colored against the dull landscape. Modern glasses wouldn’t do Vinnie any favors either. 

Balthazar tapped the shoulder of the guard next to him, a stone-faced man with a neatly trimmed beard. “Excuse me, where are you taking us?” 

“The chapel,” he said. 

Funny. From the way the guards were flanking them, Balthazar would’ve assumed they were taking them to prison. 

Scratch that. 

Prison would’ve given them time alone so they could escape through a portal into the 21st century. He couldn’t risk opening a portal now, not when they could easily open fire. 

The chapel towered over the other houses, though just as plain. The only decoration on the exterior was a wooden cross mounted above the door. 

The watch ticked under his shirt, and Balthazar clutched it in a futile attempt to quiet the sound. 

“Reverend Brown, these are trespassers,” a man explained. “Only the Lord’s guidance can steer them off this unholy path.”

Reverend Brown drew a book from the folds of his robes. Balthazar resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Great, couldn’t escape the spiritual lectures from random clergymen even when he was time traveling. 

The men who’d brought them here cast dark looks over their shoulders as they filed out, leaving them with Reverend Brown. 

Milo ran his hand against the rough wooden pews, curiously looking around the one-room chapel.

“Did you sire him?” Reverend Brown asked. 

Balthazar and Vinnie glanced at each other. The real explanation would surely get them declared clinically insane. 

“He’s my son,” Vinnie declared. Balthazar sighed in relief, surprised at the decent lie. Vinnie and Milo didn’t resemble each other at all, but Reverend Brown looked satisfied. 

“And you are?” 

Spoke too soon. 

“A family friend,” Balthazar replied. “The boy’s poor mother fell ill, and we have been traveling far and wide in search of a cure.”

“I see. And has this illness manifested as a result of the child?” Reverend Brown asked. “Demons infect their surroundings, bringing misfortune and destruction wherever they rampage.”

Vinnie balled his fists, and Balthazar held his arm out to warn him not to do anything rash. 

When Balthazar looked up, half the pews were toppled over, splintered into fragments beyond repair. Milo rubbed his neck. “Sorry about that.”

Reverend Brown gasped, jabbing an accusing finger in Milo’s direction. “You defiled a house of worship, witch,” he spat. “This is sacrilege of the highest order, and punishment will rain down on you accordingly.”

“All this for some accidental destruction?” Balthazar asked. “Look, we can help you get more supplies. Chop some wood, stoke the fire, but you will not be accusing our charge.”

Although Reverend Brown was a head shorter than him, Balthazar took a step back when the man leered at him. “Accomplices, the both of you. Begone from this holy site, demons from hell.” 

You can never come back.

That voice....

You have chosen. 

He hadn’t chosen to be murdered. The watch was still closed. How could he hear the voice?

A paradise awaited. The gates are forever closed.

There were several voices. One screaming, two concerned. He didn’t understand them.

The watch ticked on. 

Everything was red. The gargoyles, once used as a line of defense against the foul demons that roamed the land, glowered at him with soulless eyes. Baring their fangs, they crawled off their perch, creeping toward him with all the grace of an experienced predator. 

Lava dripped from their stone bodies, flowing into a river of fire behind them. Balthazar’s heart raced as he found his path of escape blocked by a large boulder. 

They were closer. 

Balthazar pushed the boulder, to no avail. They were closing in. 

There was no escape. 

Closer. 

One winged beast knocked him to the ground with a roar. It raised its talons....

“Balthy! Balthy! Wake up! Wake up, will ya! I can’t do this. Not again. I failed you again. I made a promise I couldn’t keep. You gotta wake up....”

Balthazar groaned. “Dakota, I’m fine....”

It was a flimsy lie and he knew it.

He took note of his surroundings, staring at the high walls of a large barn filled with hay and farming supplies. He laid in a bed of hay, Vinnie sitting next to him.

He didn’t know where Milo was. 

“You call screaming like you were being flayed alive ‘fine’?” Vinnie shouted, yanking his glasses off.  

A tear trickled down his face. 

Balthazar quickly sat up, his mouth open as he struggled to think of something to comfort Vinnie. 

But nothing came out. 

“Your watch.”

Balthazar paled. But there was no use in hiding it now. He took off the strap, running his thumb against the golden surface.

“You didn’t think I noticed you hanging onto this thing,” Vinnie continued. His voice was colder, more distant than Balthazar had ever heard. “That you didn’t clutch your chest every so often. How you never used it to tell time.”

“It wasn’t important. I would’ve told you, but the opportunity never presented itself,” Balthazar muttered. 

Vinnie abruptly stood up, brushing straw off his clothes. “In other words, you’re deliberately hiding something from me. Regardless of what Block thinks, the other agents, and especially you, I’m not stupid. Now answer my question.”

Balthazar avoided Vinnie’s sharp gaze, staring at the dirt floor to the side. “Very well.”

“Where did you get that watch?”

Balthazar hesitated. Of all the times for Vinnie to be focused, he chose now. He ducked his head, looking at every place but his partner. He knew Vinnie deserved to know. 

He’d damaged the trust between them when he rushed off that fateful night. He might as well take a machete to it now and get it over with. 

“Heaven,” he mumbled. 

Vinnie raised an eyebrow. “Where?” 

“Heaven!” Balthazar shouted. “When I died...I was given a choice.” 

He was lying again. It was far too late to backpedal. But it was a failsafe. Vinnie didn’t need to know where Balthazar would wind up after his death. 

It wouldn’t be heaven. 

And Vinnie probably wouldn’t find that out until he died. 

They would be separated forever. 

“You don’t believe me, do you?” Balthazar asked. “I was given a second chance.”

There was no chance. Orton didn’t offer it then, and he wouldn’t offer it now.

“They let you in heaven,” Vinnie said. “And they gave you the watch.” 

Not gave. Stolen. 

“Yes,” Balthazar said. “I apologize for not telling you sooner.”

Vinnie turned away, his head low. “I need to be alone.”

He left Balthazar in a far corner of the barn. 

Did Milo overhear their conversation? He hoped not. Milo was far too young to be caught up in an adult’s quarrel. 

Balthazar gripped a wooden beam as he stood up, feeling awkward and uncoordinated. Then he heard a horse neigh from somewhere in the barn, followed by a laugh. 

Following the noise, he found Milo stroking a large, white horse’s nose. Milo fed it a carrot, giggling when the vegetable disappeared in seconds. 

“Milo?” Balthazar said. “Would you mind filling me in on what happened?” 

Milo glanced up at him, gently pushing the horse’s nose away from his shoulder. “Sure,” he said. “Are you okay?” 

“Not really,” Balthazar admitted. “Dakota was angry. Best to leave him alone for a bit.”

Milo nodded. “When you blacked out, Reverend Brown thought you were possessed and started shouting for people to take you into the courthouse. Mr. Dakota grabbed you and we hightailed it to this barn just outside the village. You were screaming.”

He looked down, shifting on his feet. “You scared us,” Milo mumbled. 

Balthazar stroked the horse’s long nose to give his hands something to do, so they didn’t tremble with worry over the pain he’d caused his companions. 

“It happened very fast,” Balthazar said quietly. “None of us were prepared.”

Just like last time. He hadn’t been prepared to die. Agents have died on dangerous missions before, but Balthazar never thought he’d be a statistic to that list. 

“It was like the serum,” Milo whispered, his voice barely audible against the sounds of the barn animals. “I was never actually in the middle of a thunderstorm, was I? I realize that now. But it looked real.” He swallowed. “Felt real.”

Balthazar placed a hand on Milo’s shoulder, drawing him closer to his side. 

Funny the way the mind worked. Their experiences weren’t real, but they were so real. 

His vision hadn’t been triggered by the fear serum. There was something else at play here.

“You know this is my first time petting a horse, right?” Milo asked, breaking away from the side hug. Balthazar was glad for the abrupt change in subject. Anything to take his mind off Vinnie for a few minutes. 

“You seemed very eager about it as I recall,” Balthazar said. “He’s a gentle one at least. Some horses aren’t nearly this complacent.”

“Yeah, horse-drawn carriages tend to break whenever I get close to them, and the horses get pretty skittish, so I never really got the chance to pet one,” Milo said. “Did you ever have a horse?”

Balthazar stroked the horse’s velvety snout, dreading this particular memory. “I had a terrible riding experience when I was a teenager. Lost my taste for horses ever since.”

“Did you fall off? Cause I heard the Bureau’s scientists talking about this one guy who fell off a horse and got paralyzed,” Milo said. 

“Yes,” Balthazar muttered. “Look, I was young once too. I had what you’d call a crush on some farm girl. Don’t ask for her name, because I don’t remember. Long story short, I tried to get my horse to jump a creek to impress her and wound up falling in. And you will not repeating what you just heard to anybody.” The horse snorted, and Balthazar glared at it. “That goes double for you.”

Milo giggled. “Cross my heart. I won’t tell.” 

“Good,” Balthazar nodded. “I think I’ve given Dakota adequate space. We need to locate him so we can leave these wretched Puritans and get back to the 21st century. And quickly, so they don’t find us taking shelter here.”

They found Vinnie sitting on a bench next to several tools. He was slumped over, one hand resting on his head as he listlessly traced something in the dirt with a pitchfork. 

“Dakota! We’re leaving,” Balthazar announced, showing him the Transporter, calibrated and ready to go. 

Vinnie didn’t meet his eyes, nor did he give any sign that he’d heard. 

Balthazar stared at him, surprised at Vinnie’s indifference. 

Well, more indifferent than Vinnie was normally. But now wasn’t the time to be stubborn!

Balthazar cleared his throat. “We’re going home. Come on.”

He didn’t budge. 

“Mr. Dakota, can we please go home?” Milo asked. “And no offense, but Balthazar is trying to talk to you. Maybe he’s got something to say?”

“Sorry, kid,” Vinnie sighed, standing up. He folded his arms, still not looking at Balthazar. “I’m not ready yet. Just give me a few hours. Then we’ll talk.”

Milo’s eyes flickered between Balthazar and Vinnie. “You can’t just kiss and make up now?” 

Balthazar sighed, opening the portal, which displayed the parking lot of their apartment. “Sorry. It isn’t your fault, Milo. Best to give it time.”

“I have to agree with Balthazar,” Vinnie said quietly. “I just need to process a few things.”

Milo still looked confused, but accepted the explanation with no argument. 

While sulking wasn’t unusual for Balthazar, it seemed almost unnatural for Vinnie to do it. And he didn’t like it. 

Not to mention being a terrible actor. Vinnie just gave away that he heard everything Balthazar said, for crying out loud! 

They returned to the 21st century in silence, the barn fading away in a mysterious blue light. 

Then they heard voices. 

“Well, did you find them?” A raspy voice demanded. “Those idiots can’t have gotten far!” 

Vinnie immediately pulled Milo behind the shrubs that stood between the sidewalk and apartments, silently taking refuge in the greenery. Balthazar crawled underneath a large bush and held two large, leafy branches in front of him. 

He could only hope they were properly concealed. 

“Not yet,” a man with a flaming red beard grunted. Balthazar stifled a gasp. “Remember, Scarlet and Indigo reported fighting them at the mall.”

He was the one who dropped him off the bridge. 

If he saw Balthazar...or worse, saw Vinnie and Milo, there was no telling what he could do to them. 

His heart racing, Balthazar pinched himself to calm down so he could listen to their plan. 

“They stole the Bureau’s property,” Block snarled. “I want them hunted down. Especially that Cooperdink. He’s so incompetent that he couldn’t even die properly. Red, don’t fail me. You’re one of the few good agents left.”

Property? Incompetent?

Now he really wanted deck that bastard. 

Red nodded. “I contacted Scarlet. We will rendezvous at the abandoned pistachio warehouse to discuss a plan for capturing the rogues. We will not fail.” 

“You’d better not,” Block snarled. “And remember, the Jinx is to be taken alive. No exceptions.”

Car doors slammed, causing Balthazar to jump. A loud engine came to life, and within a few seconds the car peeled downtown. 

Balthazar slowly crept out of the bush, checking his surroundings before emerging completely. 

There were only a few other cars in the parking lot, but no other people. No good hiding places available for anyone to come out an ambush them either. 

“Clear,” Balthazar said. 

Vinnie crawled out first, looking around before helping Milo out of the bush. His exposed legs had patches of dirt stuck to them. Balthazar grimaced as Milo plucked two earthworms stuck to his body and set them gently into the soil. 

Even from a distance, Balthazar could see that someone had taken a weapon to their apartment door and bashed it in completely. 

“We were assigned to that apartment,” Balthazar murmured. “We can’t stay here any longer.”

It was too dangerous to grab any possessions in case they left a few surprises in the apartment. 

They would truly have to be on the run.