#SOMETHING IS SO WRONG BUT HE NEVER ELABORATES SO I CAN ONLY IMAGINE HIS HURT

[volosdarling]

WHENEVER THE VOLO BOT ON TWITTER POSTS THIS I GET SO SAD BC I WISH I COULD BE BY HIS SIDE BUT THIS IS BEFORE HE MEETS MY SONA ANYWAY :-(

[morgaseus]

sometimes, always, never.

inspired by @/yinyuedijun's translation. Absolute amazing fic, cannot recommend it enough!

Slight spoilers for anime onlys.

Orter Madl x reader

Orter is indifferent. 

He’s never one to act on his emotions. You’ve never seen him get angry, not even when he faced a cold blooded criminal who killed his own flesh and blood, not even when the criminal confessed to cruelly killing his child. You imagined yourself lunging at the criminal, stabbing him over and over and over and over, until he was left unrecognizable, until only a pool of blood and blobs of flesh were present. But you settled in gripping your wand so hard, your knuckles turned white. 

You’ve never seen him cry either. Not even when his friend or acquaintance as he called it, died at the hands of innocent zero’s forces. You remember him staring at the lifeless body of his friend, until you had to snap him out of it. But you’re sure, somehow, that his friend's death is the reason why he is now. 

You’ve never even seen him smile either. Not even when he’s with his family. Not even when he’s with you. Ryoh would call him a stuck up with a stick in his butt, you’d laugh and Orter would ignore him.

Sometimes you wondered if he ever loved you at all or if he was only entertaining your shenanigans. He rarely ever takes you out on dates, he’s busy, you understand, but would it hurt for him to make time for you? When you ask him how his mission was, he’d say a few words, not elaborating any further. He never says I love you first, it was always you. But he has too, right? If he didn’t he wouldn’t hold you in his arms and whisper words of promises that he’ll protect you and you needn’t worry because he’s right here, by your side. If you're ever in trouble, just call him and he’ll come right away. He’d say, his words gentle and his eyes full of warmth. How cheesy you think but hearing his words assures you.

Strange.

Sometimes you even wonder if he’s human, capable of feeling emotions. 

Something’s strange. 

Sometimes you’d wonder if you were the problem. Maybe it was you who’s reading it all wrong, maybe you were just trying to push your ideals to him. Yes, you think, maybe. 

You’d ask your friend for advice, and they’d say: You both need to work on communicating.

Something’s definitely strange. 

Orter Madl is indifferent. Ask anyone in town and they’ll say the same thing. I’ve never seen him smile. Well, he gets things done. He’s scary, unlike Mr. Ryoh. He always looks so grumpy. Maybe he just needs someone to lighten him up a bit. That just comes with being a divine visionary, I guess?

Yet why was it…he’s looking at you like he’s about to lose his entire world..?

.

Orter has a hard time expressing what he feels. He’s never cared much what others think or say about him. It’s not like he’ll get a reward or something if he refutes them, so he just let it be. But ever since Alex introduced you… yes, ever since he met you, he’s been feeling something, something he can not put a finger to, but it's definitely something strange.

Strange, definitely. 

Because for the first time Orter Madl felt what fear was. Not even Famin scared him. Not even Innocent Zero scared him. But seeing your bloodied body, in the confines of your shared home did.

It was one of innocent zero’s remnants. He’d been comfortable. He should’ve never left his guard down even after the war. Something wrong was always bound to happen. 

He held you in his arms, even when his shirt was coated with your blood. He’s always been meticulous about his clothing, always particular about it. But he didn't mind. Didn’t care. Right now, all he cared about was you.

Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.

Orter regrets not learning advanced healing magic. He never had any use for it. Why would he when was already powerful to begin with? He believed that was enough to protect you. Stupid. Idiot. Fool. He’d been complacent. His basic knowledge in healing spells wouldn’t do any good. Not with that gaping hole in your stomach. not enough. not enough. But he promised! He promised he’d protect you! 

What a fool. 

He’d tried calling a medic. No answers. Who was he kidding? All of them were deployed already, helping thousands of injured civilians.

Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please don’t die. Don’t die.

Don’t leave me-!

“Why are you crying, orter?”

“Please don’t cry, please”

He almost laughed at the irony of it all. It should be him, comforting you, not the other way around.

“Can you smile for me?”

“I want to see you smile before I go” You say, your chest heaving, mouth soaked with blood.

…He complied

And for the first time he says: I love you. I'm sorry. I love you.

And you say: I know. I love you too. As the light in your eyes vanishes. 

Orter hugs your lifeless body close to him. Tears fall from his eyes. He always loves hearing your voice, sweet and melodious, but now It's quiet, too quiet, save from his heaving and sobbing. He hates it. You always smell like the flowers you grow in your shared garden. Light. Pleasant. Sweet. Light. Pleasant. Sweet. But now you smell of blood. Strong. Metallic. Putrid. Strong Metallic. Putrid. He hates it. 

Orter Madl became a divine visionary so that no more lives will be lost. Yet, what purpose would that be all if he couldn't even save you. What purpose was his being powerful- strong enough, skilled enough, if he couldn’t even save you? 

In the end, he was nothing more but a helpless individual. 

[oneofstarkskids]

so high school (part 3)

part 1, part 2

genre: fluff

summary: high school au!! how is bucky supposed to break it to you that everything that's happened started with a lie?

bucky didn't know how long he could keep it up. the whole facade. he actually had to scramble to hide his report card from you.

you weren't his dad. he shouldn't be afraid of you seeing his grades.

but he was finally spending time with you. could he have made things simple and just asked you out like a normal person? no. this was more fun.

plus it's not like anyone was getting hurt. he was passing all his classes as usual. the only down side seemed to be the lying. he would have to tell you eventually...right? or maybe he could just...

he started to envision it. the two of you sitting on a deck with james junior in your lap. "and that's how mommy met daddy. because he's dumb as a rock."

or in the later years. "do you need me to organize your pills, honey?" bucky would probably roll his eyes, "i can count, doll."

okay so maybe he was overthinking, but that didn't mean that all of this couldn't turn into a problem. besides, he wanted to be honest with you.

relationships shouldn't be built on lies. so bucky decided to tell you the truth.

he met you in the library, like he'd done almost every day this week. he noticed the sullen expression on your face immediately.

"what's wrong?" he asked. you didn't have any problem telling him. the two of you had become sort of, close.

"it's my friend sam. he said he was working yesterday, but i saw someone post him on their story at some hangout," you sighed. "it doesn't matter. he can hang out with whoever he wants. i just can't believe he lied to me."

bucky froze. oh. shit.

"we're best friends. i don't understand why he felt like he couldn't tell me the truth. it hurts, you know," you said. and because bucky did know, he looked down at the table.

"i have to tell you something."

you study his expression. not that it was difficult, bucky was usually an expressive person. he seemed a bit nervous.

"i was never going to fail," he said quietly.

you frowned. "what?"

bucky tried to explain, "i was never getting kicked off the team. i've never failed a class. math and science are actually my strongest subjects."

bucky couldn't stop imagining the look of betrayal that was probably on your face. it took a lot for him to look up to meet your eyes.

but when he did, you were...smiling?

you suddenly laughed like it was all ridiculous. bucky didn't know how to react. and he had sisters, so he knew that your laughter could turn into a lecture at any moment.

"why?" you managed between wheezes.

bucky thought back to the beginning of it all, "well, i liked you for a really long time. all my friends were saying i should ask you out, but i guess i was too scared."

"you were scared?" you couldn't understand how someone like bucky barnes could be insecure for even a moment.

yet, he nodded.

"so you decided to create an elaborate plan to spend all this time with me instead of just asking me on a date?" you asked.

bucky chuckled with embarrassment, "maybe i am stupid after all."

you shook your head, "i don't think it's stupid. i think it's cute."

he turned a bright shade of pink that had you feeling confident.

you smirked, "but don't think that means you're getting out of that date."

[the-writer-arrived]

A Wish Within Reach

Synopsis: his current life is something wriothesley had never imagined he could have. however, there are things he yearns oh-so-dearly to have that are still out of reach... or so he thought.

Character: wriothesley.

Warnings: gn!reader; established relationship; hurt & comfort; spoilers about wrio's past and voicelines; nightmares; imagery of death and blood (not reader's or wrio's).

A/N: i am so in love with this man, his 'more about wriothesley: v' hurt me so much, i wish to give him all the love he deserves. i talked with a friend about how wrio probably 'froze' most of the bad memories and thoughts of his past to not affect him so obviously, that's why he can say such worrying things so nonchalantly :'( please be happy for your birthday, my love 🥹

P.S: also, in a lighter note, please feast your eyes with eriimyon's good morning series, you're welcome.

It's dark, very dark. Wriothesley can barely see what's around him.

Where am I?

The air is completely still, as if everything is holding their breath in waiting. Waiting for something to happen.

For something terrible to happen.

Suddenly, a bright light blinds him, followed by a loud sound of something popping too close to his face.

"Happy birthday ••••••!"

Wriothesley's stomach churns. That was the name he had long abandoned. Those were the voices he hadn't heard in years.

Voices he shouldn't be hearing anymore.

Blinking to adjust to the newly lit room, a kitchen foreign and yet so familiar, he settles his stare at the two people he shouldn't be seeing anymore.

"...Is something wrong ••••••?"

"Are you feeling alright, son?"

Son... I'm nobody's son.

The hand reached out to him is slapped away harshly, causing the woman to gasp in shock.

"••••••! How could you do this to your--!"

"SHUT UP! NOT ANOTHER WORD!!"

His voice booms over theirs, filled with hatred. Strangely, it sounded... different. Younger.

He looks to the side and saw a reflection of himself in a mirror: a boy staring back at him, his chest heaving, eyes blown wide with fear and a bloodied knife on his hand.

His attention snaps back to the scene before him, the cake with candles and birthday decorations are a stark contrast to the two dead bodies on the floor.

It's too much, too real, too vivid.

The smell, the scene, the hatred, the fear.

It's suffocating.

"...io! ...rling ..ak ...up!"

Someone please make it stop!

----------

"Wriothesley!"

Blue eyes shoot open, hand grabbing tightly whatever it was reaching for his face in reflex.

"It's okay, Wrio, it's me. I'm not going to hurt you, you're safe now."

The gentle voice manages to ground him, his eyes meeting your concerned expression. His grip relaxes, bringing your hand to cup his cheek to place a kiss inside your palm, an apology.

"...Sorry, did I wake you up, sweetheart?"

"It's fine, I had to go to the bathroom earlier, so I was already up." You observe the way your lover's chest move up and down quickly and the way the hand cupping yours is slightly clammy. "Bad dream?"

"...Yeah." Wriothesley closes his eyes, allowing a beat of silence to hang in the air, before elaborating. "Sigewinne scolded me for drinking too much tea, saying it wasn't healthy, and declared I should only drink her milkshakes for now on. Terrifying, right?"

That is an obvious lie, he knows. Totally unbefitting of someone in his position as the Duke, who is always five steps ahead of anyone. He knows. And he knows that you know he's lying through his teeth.

"Terrifying indeed..." You pull your hand away from his grasp to gently hold it instead, thumb caressing his knuckles. "But it's okay now, I'm here."

But, with you, he isn't the all knowing Duke of the Fortress of Meropide, Lord Incognito of the murky depths or whatever fancy title people give him. He is Wriothesley, a human like any other, who is plagued by nightmares from time to time. And who is blessed to have such a kind lover by his side, that chooses to play along with his weak excuse instead of pressing for answers.

"Say..." Your tone of voice makes him open his eyes again, curious to know what's on your mind. "I suddenly feel like having a cup of tea right now... Would you like to join me?"

"Drinking tea at..." Wriothesley stops, propping himself up with his elbows to glance at the clock on the bedside table. "2 in the morning doesn't sound very healthy, don't you think? The Head Nurse would surely scold us."

"Then we need to keep this a secret from her." You shrug, your smile bright even in the darkness of the bedroom. "Well?"

He doesn't even need to answer out loud, already getting up from the bed and pulling you along towards the kitchen.

----------

"Sweetheart, do we still have that jam you bought the other day?"

"I guess so. It should be in the fridge."

As your beloved always says, tea is best served with something sweet on the side, even if it's very late at night. Surely Sigewinne won't mind, right? ...Not that she'll find out about it.

Wriothesley opens the fridge, hoping to find that delicious jam imported from Sumeru you got recently, only for his eyes to fall onto a cake.

Happy birthday Wriothesley!

Happy birthday ••••••!

The names begin to mix in his vision as he stares at the writing on the cake, those cursed voices from his nightmare coming back to ring inside his ears.

"Did you find it, love?" You ask while you finish pouring the hot water inside the matching mugs (one of a wolf and the other of a bunny) and letting the teabags to brew for a little bit. "Wrio?"

Hearing no response coming from the man, you turn around to find him just standing in front of the fridge as if hypnotized by something, gripping its handle a bit too tightly.

"...Wrio, are you okay?" You carefully place your hand on his arm and you watch as his unfocused eyes return to normal, blinking a few times before glancing at you. "What's wrong?"

"Ah, sorry, I got distracted by this." He points to something, opening the door more so you can see it, and Wriothesley has to cover his mouth to stop a chuckle at how big your eyes become at the sight of the cake.

"Shit, I forgot to cover it?!" He feels slightly bad watching the way you deflate. "It was supposed to be a surprise for later..."

"Hey, it's okay, I still got surprised. I had completely forgotten today was my birthday."

Listen, he swears he said that hoping it would cheer you up a little, that the surprise you had prepared wasn't ruined like you thought. But, seeing you frown further, now directed at him, he starts to think that wasn't a good idea.

Your lover opens his mouth, ready to apologize again, but you beat him to it.

"Since the cat's out of the bag now, I might as well roll with it..." Your expression changes from upset to determined and Wriothesley always marvels at how you can bounce back into action. "I have a few things I wish to tell you. Will you listen to me, Wrio?"

You could ask for the stars in the sky and he would ask how many of them you would want. Listening to you talk is something he'll gladly do forever, if it's up to him.

He sits on one of the kitchen stools, pulling you to stand between his legs and patiently waits for you to begin, his thumbs rubbing your knuckles and offering you a relaxed smile.

With a deep breath, you squeeze his hands to signal you are ready and start speaking the words coming from the depths of your heart.

"...You always says that the less people see of you, the happier their lives are. While I get where you're coming from, that has never worked for me."

"Ever since we first met, I've had this feeling of wanting to see you again. Again, while I understand the air of intimidation helps with being the warden and all that, you don't match the description of a dangerous man people have when talking about the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide... Especially when I catch your gloves and back filled with Melusine stickers~"

That last part makes Wriothesley huff, which, in turn, makes you laugh.

"The more time I spent with you, the more I got to know about the man behind the title of Duke... The more greedy I'd become. I'd wonder when I would have the next opportunity to visit you, to have tea with you, to watch you fight at the Pankration... Until I started to wish to be by your side as more than a friend."

"And when you started to open up to me, allowing me to treat your wounds, telling me about your worries and even about your past, that wish of mine only grew."

"...I know life has been cruel to you, ever since you were little. You went through things no one, much less a child, should experience..."

You pause, feeling a familiar pressure behind your eyes and a lump in your throat. You take another deep breath, your hands moving to your beloved's cheeks.

"But I want you to know that I am so, so glad you were born into this world. I'm so blessed to be by your side."

Wriothesley's breath hitches, his heart beating a bit too hard for comfort and his hands shake a little. In a way, it's the same reaction he had during his nightmare, but the feeling this time is far, very far from being fear.

It's love.

A love so deep and strong for you it's nearly painful. The kind of pain he wishes to feel for the rest of his life.

"...I want to make my wish now. Can we light up a candle on the cake, sweetheart?"

"...Huh?" You blink once, twice, three times... "You want... to make a wish? Now?!"

"What? You're not going to deny the birthday boy, are you?"

It's your turn to huff now. You could never deny him, not when he always does so much for you.

You place the cake on the table before him and observe with great interest as the flame of the candle lighting Wriothesley's handsome face, eyes closed in concentration before blowing out the small flame. He then opens his eyes to look at you.

"Want to know that I wished for?"

Truth to be told, you do. You'd love to know what could it be that he desires so much that he couldn't wait until later. Despite that, you shake your head.

"No, it's fine. It won't become true if you say it out loud."

By the Seven, you look so adorable, saying that so seriously despite it being just a superstition. He can't help but tease you lovingly.

"But I didn't wish for anything."

Silence. Only you blinking owlishly at your lover.

"Then why did you even want to light a candle for?!"

"Ouch, hey now! You shouldn't hit the birthday boy!" The man has the audacity to laugh, easily holding your fists in place to stop you from hitting him. "I didn't wish for anything, but I wanted to say thanks to someone."

"Thanks? To whom?"

"...To whatever deity that took pity on me and was benevolent enough to grace me with their most perfect angel."

Your cheeks flush in no time, his eyes full of adoration making you feel bashful.

"Oh, stop it. I'm no angel!"

"Hmm, yeah. On second thought, you're right." He grins and pulls you into his embrace. "You're probably a deity then, rather than an angel."

"Wrio!"

"What? Shocked that I've uncovered your secret?" He chuckles at you rolling your eyes, not missing the way you bite your lips to stop a smile.

"Seriously speaking now, I do consider you as someone incredibly special. Thanks to you, I've achieved things I could never have done by myself, like being able to trust other people."

"...Even though the past can't be changed, I can now say I have a happy present. And I dare say that I'll have a happy future as well, with you by my side."

He dries the lone tear that escapes from your pretty eyes, chest bursting with deep love for you and hopes the kisses he places on your lips can convey his true feelings, when any and all words that he knows fail to do it.

----------

His birthday was something Wriothesley had long since stopped caring about.

His previous birthday is related to a time of his life he'd rather leave behind and never look back at It, while his current birthday is the day he was convicted for his crime.

Suffice to say that none of those dates have a positive memory behind them.

Now, however, as the two of you return to bed after having tea, biscuits with jam and many kisses in between, Wriothesley believes this year's November 23rd is the first one he actually wants to celebrate.

To celebrate the first time he actually feels thankful for his birth.

[aalghul]

Hey can u elaborate more on why u think Juni Ba was criticizing Jason for not moving on from his past trauma? /gen btw sorry if u already elaborated i think people always complain about him not showing enough signs of being traumatized or showing too many but i thought Ba was generally trying to show that he was still affected by everything 👤 maybe i need 2 re-read

the first thing ba does is establish that the joker is, in whatever way, dealt with but jason still won't move on. i first thought this might be brought up again, that jason might say his piece, especially since we see wanted posters for joker that might've been ba's way of hinting that the joker isn't away for good and that jason's not just clinging to an imagined wrong. but this is literally never brought up, so apparently the posters were just to remind us who the monster is. what we're supposed to take from the panel below is simply that jason won't move on from the joker being alive despite the joker no longer being a danger. jason wanting bruce to kill the joker to prove his love is only half of it, he also wants joker dead because he breaks out and hurts more people constantly. this is something jason's explicitly said before, but it's just not relevant to what ba's trying to convey.

then the demon tells jason that he's going to make him face what he runs from, and (surprise, surprise) it's a hallucination of the joker. jason famously doesn't run from the joker, and ba was willing to sacrifice even that to make the claim that jason's fear of the joker makes him a dangerous liability (jason just starts shooting wildly out of fear in the next few panels).

then there's the whole ending which is nothing but jason being blamed for the distance between he and bruce. the issue literally ends with jason being told he's holding onto anger for nothing and that letting it go will fix his relationship with bruce. no nuance.

[localbidisaster]

The Truth - TOH Hunter x Reader

Summary: Hunter tells Reader about the whole Grimmwalker thing

Warnings: possible spoilers for Hollow mind and Thanks to them

You can tell that something's wrong, that something's bothering him. He's been quieter than usual, distancing himself not only from you but everyone else. Well, everyone else except for Willow.

It's something you've feared for a while now. He's been getting closer to her, and you can't help but worry that your relationship is nearing its end.

You can't blame him. She's considerate, powerful, courageous, and so much more. She'd be perfect for him...

At this point, it seems inevitable. He's going to break up with you. At first, it hurt; well, it still hurts, but not nearly as much as it did in the beginning. You're trying to accept it. You love him. You'll always love him. You love him enough to let him go if it means he'll get the happiness he's always deserved.

"(Y/N)?" He asks you one evening, visibly nervous. "Can I talk to you outside?" You nod, faking your best smile. "Of course."

It's time.

You take a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself before following him out of the door and onto the porch. You sit down next to him on the bottom step, anxiously fidgeting with your hands.

He takes a deep breath of his own, "You can do this, Hunter," he mumbles to himself. "There's something, umm..." He pauses, trying to find the right words, "I'm not—it's just–" he sighs, burying his head in his hands. "Titan, I knew this would be hard but I thought I was more prepared than this..."

I'm not in love with you anymore. You can imagine him saying it. It's probably what he wanted to say. You turn your head away from him, quickly wiping away the few tears that managed to escape your eyes.

"Are you going to break up with me,  Hunter?" You ask, sniffling.  "What?" He exclaims in shock, looking terrified as he turns to look at you. "N-No! Never! Why would you think that?" He blurts out, voice laden with fear and confusion.

"You—You're crying– Oh my titan," he gasps, moving to gently wipe away your tears. "Tell me what's wrong. Please! I need to fix whatever I did."

You sniffled again. "You didn't do anything wrong... I'm just being insecure..." He frowns, "You can tell me what's bothering you, you know that, right?" His hands move to cup your face, "You've always been there for me, and I'll always be here for you."

You lean into his touch. "Nothing makes me happier than knowing that you've made more friends," you explain, "But, something's been bothering you recently, and you've been distant. Willow seems to be the only one you want to be around anymore... I'm afraid you don't love me anymore because you've fallen for her."

You gently move Hunter's hands off your face, leaning away from him. "I love you so much. If you're happier with her than I want you to be with her, it's what you deserve."

Small amounts of tears welled up in his eyes, and he quickly wiped them away. "Willow is one of my best friends, but that's all she is. I don't want her. I want you. I've only been spending so much time with her because I had to tell you something important but I was afraid that you'd... sorta... Break up with me..."

You tilted your head slightly in confusion. "Willow was helping to reassure and prepare me to tell you," he elaborated. A mix of relief and concern flooded you.

"What did you want to tell me that had you so scared?" You questioned. He took a deep breath, "You can do this, Hunter..."

"Do you know what a Grimmwalker is?" He asks, looking away. You think for a moment. "I think I read about them in a book once. They're clones that come from a whole bunch of different ingredients. Bones of who they originated from and whatnot, if I recall correctly."

He nodded slowly, "I'm a Grimmwalker. When Luz and I got trapped in Belos's mind we found out. He created me, (Y/N). I don't even know who or what I am. I don't know if I'm human, a witch, or something entirely different. I... I don't even know if you'll still love me now that you know."

With tears streaming down his face he refused to look at you. "Hunter..." You whispered. "Hey... Look at me," you said softly, gently grabbing his face and turning him to look at you. "Why would I stop loving you? You didn't choose how you came into this world. It's not your fault."

You smile warmly, "I can't stop loving you. I don't care about who or what you may or may not be, all I care about is that you're you." He blushes lightly as you proceed to gently kiss his tears away.

"You aren't mad or anything because I'm a Grimmwalker?" He hesitantly asks. You shake your head, "No. Absolutely not." He smiles, "I love you." You grin, "Love you, too."

[cat-mermaid]

@modeus-the-unbound made this great post:

They put into words something that has sat in my brain but I didn't know how to address it, so now I do:

THIS

YES

THIS DAMMIT

Even after Miq sheds off all of his parts, and even after using Mohg to further his goals, I’ve still always thought that the Miquella we see at the end of the game is the best damn leader the Lands Between/Shadow Lands could have even gotten

I’M EVEN COOL WITH MIQUELLA TRYING TO STEAL MY CHARACTER’S HEART AND HAVE ME JOIN HIM, THAT SOUNDS DOPE AS FUCK

“Divinity is a cage!” who is caging him if the GW is gone? What is this cage? Why is it bad? Why is it so bad that it would be better for him to be dead then continue on as a god who wants to save us all from the consequences of his mom’s actions?

“Becoming a god means he’ll be beyond saving and forgiveness!” FROM WHAT TRINA, FROM WHAT. If she would to elaborate just a little more, saying something like what Gandalf said in LOTR about the one ring, how though he himself would try using it for good, it would end up corrupting him and make him a monster?

If Trina had just said a little something along the lines of-

EVEN THE MOST NOBLE SELFLESS SOULS WILL BECOME CRUEL AND UNYIELDING UPON GAINING THE MANTEL OF GODHOOD. MIQUELLA WILL BECOME A MONSTER GREATER THAN THOU CAN IMAGINE

-OR WHATEVER THEN I MIGHT BE DOWN TO PUT MIQUELLA DOWN LIKE OL YELLER

in past fromsoft games, I’ve always accepted the vagueness of the plot and the lack of answers, because at no point in demon/darksouls/bloodborne does anyone ask the question “how did this happen” everyone is just living in the moment and you are just plopped into and given a goal, your character and the characters around you aren’t trying to solve anything, just to obtain somthing

but the thing is that in Elden Ring, we are given way more plot and character backstory about NPCs(specifically Marika and the Demigods) then the past games, and thus we’ve become way more invested in them then characters like Gehrman, Lady Maria, Annalise, Micolash or Eileen the Crow

we the player haven gotten so much lore about the Demi gods, especially Miquella, that care about their destinies, their goals and their success/failure.

You think I cared about anyone in Dark Souls 3? Not really because we don't get any really deep interactions with many of its denizens. ALSO that world was pretty doomed, no real saving it.

You think I cared about anyone in Bloodborne? Kinda but most of them died right away and ALSO That world was SO doomed unless you became an infant great one.

In Elden Ring we’re told Miquella is the equivalent to Jesus/Buddha, and that he has the potential to mend this world, set it right and make it a better place for everyone. We’re disappointed when we see that he’s just ended up in a cocoon in the end, withered up and old because Mohg seemly fucked up his attempt to fix his body and ruined the haligtree plan

But when we the player find out that in the dlc Miquella is actually fine and wandering the Shadowlands, trying to get the to gates of divinity and ascend so he can right his mom’s wrongs? HOLY SHIT YES!

Previous fromsoft games have never done this kind of thing, usually every character meets their tragic end and thats it! No hope, no second chances.

So thats why I think it hurt the fanbase so much to go through that emotional roller coaster only to be told at the end oh lol you have to kill him now its for his own good yeah the sleepy gal said so

All it leaves is a sense of bafflement, bitterness and disappointment. Being a Fromsoft game, maybe thats wat they were going for

(what am I saying its Fromsoft, of course thats wat they were going for lol)

[preciousbarnes]

Promises | Part 1/3

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: When your parents are murdered in cold blood, you turn to the most feared man on the east coast for answers.

Word count: 2.4k

Tags: Violence, discussion of murder, graphic scene, hurt/comfort (it was a murder yall, its not pretty but I dont think I described it too graphically), Google translate used for the Russian, mafia themes.

You found yourself in a dark and quiet bar tonight, the smell of top shelf liquor and cigar smoke prominent the second you walked through the door. You were anxious of course, but anyone with a shred of common sense would be nervous about meeting the one known as the Winter Soldier. At least, you hoped to talk to him tonight. You slowly approached the bar, remembering the code your father had once told you, in case you ever found yourself in this position.

“Я ищу зимнего солдата” you softly say to the bartender, earning a subtly surprised expression. I’m looking for the winter solder, you had said.

The bartender sets down the glass he was drying, and walks away and through a back door, which you’re certain leads to the the office of the man you seek. After a few moments, the bartender returns, followed by a tall, blonde man. He was strong, all muscle, his face serious but had an undertone of friendliness. You were unsure if it was genuine or not. You never can be sure about mobsters, despite how kindly your father had always spoken of the Winter Mob. Especially now, that your family had been wronged so brutally.

“What is your business here, miss? We don’t see many women around these places,” He says, voice smooth like velvet, carrying the whispers of a Brooklyn accent.

“Mr. Barnes knows my parents. They’re the owners of the bakery on the corner of Southeast Avenue. Something happened, and I need to speak with Mr. Barnes. I need answers.” You say, voice surprisingly stern even though your insides felt like they were shaking like a leaf.

Once you mention the establishment your parents ran, the tall blondes eyes light with understanding.

“Ah yes, your parents are very good people. We know them well. You must be their daughter. If it is truly something serious, please, follow me,” He says, stepping aside as he holds the door for you. You walk down a long and dimly lit corridor in silence, being led by the man. This is when you notice the weapons strapped to his hips. He is dressed in the mobs characteristic all black clothing they were known for, with two guns, one on each him, strapped to him. He also wore a shoulder holster, holding a smaller pistol and two knives. He looked lethal, but had surprised you with his professional but friendly manner.

As you get closer to the door at the end of the hall, you hear the soft tones of jazz coming from inside the office, a deep and quiet hum accompanying it. The unnamed blonde knocks softly, before opening the door.

The office is also dimly lit only by a small desk lap. There were stacks metal file cabinets around the room, holding what you were sure to be decades of files on everything mob related you could imagine. The Winter Mob was known for their organization and wide depth of knowledge. The floor was a deep, rich wood, the wallpaper elaborate and stunning. Everything about the office screamed luxury.

At the desk in the center of the room sat the most dangerous man on the East Coast. Bucky Barnes, head of the Winter Mob. He wore a fitted black suit, with a black dress shirt as well. His hair was short, and he had a slight stubble on his jaw. He was a handsome man, but for every bit he was handsome, you knew he was also deadly. You involuntarily shivered at the thought of all he is involved with, and now here you were, on a mission for information.

He looked up, eyes taking you in, trailing over your face, then down your body, and back up before he spoke.

“What can I do for you, doll? Bad boyfriend you want taken care of?” He asks in a deep voice, with a slight chuckle, already making assumptions about you. It wouldn’t have been the first time a young woman had come to him for help getting out of a relationship. Little did you know, he always helped in those situations, for no cost. He was raised to respect women, to cherish them. Whenever he could, he would help women get away from men who didn’t understand that.

“No, Mr. Barnes. You know my parents. You helped them with a loan, to keep their bakery afloat. The little one on the corner of Southeast Avenue,” You explain, hoping that he will know who you’re talking about. You know he works and helps a lot of different people, so it’s hard to say if he will specifically know your parents. All you can do is hope.

At the mention of the bakery, Bucky gives a small but honest smile.

“Yeah, I do. They make the best cream puffs on this side of the U.S, I swear. How are they?” He asks you, as he leans back a bit in his chair.

“They’re dead.” You say, voice breaking on the word ‘dead’. It was still a raw wound on your heart, and still difficult to say out loud. It still felt like you were in a bad dream.

His visibly shocks Bucky. His eyebrows furrow together and his jaw drops open slightly.

“What?” He asks, softly. Unknown to you, since you were mostly away in the big city working, Bucky really loved your parents. He thought they were good, honest people. He himself stopped in twice a week to visit, always ordering a small black coffee and two cream puffs. Your mother and father reminded him of his own, who he dearly missed. It was a shellshock to him to hear the two were gone so suddenly.

His blatant shock surprised you. You really thought he knew. How did he not?

“You mean, you didn’t know? I thought it was one of your goons who took them out?” You ask, confused.

Bucky and the blonde man who had led you in snorted in slight laughter at you calling his workers and family “goons”.

“Steve, will you grab the ledger book for her families loan for me?” Bucky asked, thanking the blonde who you now knew was Steve as he handed a thin bound book over to the boss.

“Doll, come here, I want to show you something,” The boss called to you, beckoning you over with a motion of his hand, as the other flipped through the pages of the small book, before coming to the end of the writing in the book.

“See here? Their debt was paid back in full to me, two years before the deadline I had set. They’ve had me paid off for a while now. They swore to me I’d see my money back, with interest, and they kept their promise to me in full. I’d have no reason to put a hit out on them, and I never would,” The mobster told you, a surprisingly soft and gentle tone contrasting his strong and tough exterior.

“I- I don’t understand. I thought surely, they must have been behind on the loan, or made you angry somehow or something. I just wanted some answers. Who- who killed my parents?” You ask, tears springing to your eyes. You thought you had originally had at least part of the answer, being who was responsible, and now you didn’t even have that.

“I don’t know, doll. But we’re going to figure it out,” He promises you, confusing you once again. This man was full of surprises to you.

“Why? Why do you want to help me?” You ask him. When you ask, he looks to you with a fire in his eyes.

“They were family. No one gets by with hurting family, doll,” His voice tells you, a dangerous edge to it.

The mafia boss quickly tells Steve to pull his car around for you both after learning you had gotten to their bar by bus. As he waited, he asked a bit about you. He wanted to know where you were staying, to which you told him the hotel. He was satisfied in knowing it was one he secretly owned. You told him about your job in New York, which you had taken a leave of absence from to come home to Brooklyn to figure this out. He nodded as you spoke, listening as you watched him grab his gun from his desk drawer, loading it before putting it in the holster strapped to his hip. He then grabbed his wallet, thick with cash you could clearly see making it bulge, shoving it in his pocket. You both turned to Steve when he returned, telling his boss the car was ready, before leading you both outside.  

You both climbed into the Escalade, Steve opening and closing your door for you. After you’re both buckled in, he begins to drive.

“Where did it happen?” He asks you, eyes focused on the road.

“Their home, off of 56th street, if you turn here, you’ll want to-“ You’re suddenly cut off.

“I know where it is, doll, your mother was sweet enough to invite me and the boys to dinner a couple times. A sweet woman, she was,” He told you, voice sounding like silk as he fondly remembered the meals and memories he shared with your parents. They had been good to him, and his closest family members; the boys who were part of his administration, the top level of the mob, the ones he worked with the most.

“I didn’t realize you all were that close?” You question, still surprised.

Bucky sends you a kind smile, not bothered by your confused and uncertain tone.

“Your parents were good people. Kind people. Nothing like the company we usually keep. They just needed help, and we were happy to help them. For our assistance, they made sure we knew how grateful they were, which isn’t something that happens for us often. Most are afraid of us, but for some reason they never were. We respected that.” He tells you, his own respect for your parents clear in his tone.

“They really meant something to you,” You conclude, still seeing a hint of sadness in his voice where he had to use past tense when talking about your parents now.

“They did. They treated me like their own, which I’m sure you know how good that is,” He tells you, voice soft again.

You smile sadly, nodding. Your parents had been so good to you, always your number one fan. To know they had been good to a mobster too, having hearts full enough to see past the tough exterior and treat Bucky’s family like their own, made your own heart swell. They really were good people. You were blessed to have come from them, but that made you want justice for them even more. They didn’t deserve the fate they had been given.

You both pulled up outside of their small home. It was modest, but charming all the same. A small brick two-story house with white shutters. There were small window boxes hanging off of each window, holding flower beds your mother had planted little wildflowers in, a beautiful bright contrast to the brick building. There was police tape surrounding the property, with an officer stationed outside on the porch.

Bucky puts the car in park, parking behind the police car out front. As he unbuckles, he turns to face you, surprised to see you also unbuckling.

“Doll, stay here, I don’t think you’ll want to see this,” He commands, voice not leaving room for argument. You’ve always been stubborn, so you argue anyway.

“I want to come with you, Mr. Barnes. I deserve to know. I want to see it too,” You plead with him.

He sighs, taking in your stern tone and resiliency clear on your face. He nods begrudgingly.

“First, call me Bucky. Second, okay. But, don’t say anything to the officer, and do not touch anything, okay?” He orders you, earning him a small smile and a nod from you.

You both get out of the car, walking up the sidewalk, only to be stopped by the officer.

Bucky quickly pulls out a wad of cash, silencing the officers demands for you both to leave. Pocketing the cash, he holds the police tape up for you and Bucky to crouch under to enter the property. You pull out your key to your family home, unlocking the door and moving to walk in the door until Bucky stops you.

“Let me go first doll,” He tells you, making you step back to let him enter first.

The first thing you notice is a pungent smell of iron hitting you both. You grimace. You hadn’t been told much by police, only that it had been quite a gruesome scene. The medical examiner had already informed you that you would have to have a closed casket service, and had advised you as gently as possible that it would be best if you didn’t see their bodies in the state they were now in. It hurt your heart. But all of that still didn’t prepare you for the scene you both saw in the living room.

Blood was everywhere. The floors, the walls, the couches, the curtains. It was obvious there had been a struggle from the trail of blood around the room. The room looked like a scene out of a horror film. In the center of the room laid a large and sharp knife, also covered in blood. In the light, gleamed an inscription you couldn’t make out. Bucky crouched down next to it for a closer look, and you couldn’t stop it anymore. Sobs wracked your body, vision blurring from your tears. You hug your midsection, wishing for comfort. It shockingly comes.

Bucky stands from his couched position in the middle of the room and strides back over to you, carefully wrapping you in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, дорогая” He whispers in your ear, holding you close to him as your head comes to rest on his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist. Sweetheart is what he called you. His voice was also heavy with emotion, hating the scene in front of you both. It was a scene of two people who had fought hard, but nevertheless had a horrifying and painful death.

“I think I know who is responsible,” He informs you, after your tears slowly come to a stop, now just enjoying the comfort his strong arms brought you.

“You do? Who?” You timidly ask, fearful of hearing who could have done something so violent, so horrid and animalistic, to people as sweet and kind as your parents who wouldn’t hurt anyone for anything in the world.

“His name is Zemo,” His voice darkly tells you, taking your hand and leading you out of the house and back to the Escalade.

Part 2: Coming Soon

[deandoesthingstome]

Walk with Me - Ch 6

Pairing: FBI Agent!Syverson x OFC, Drug Czar!August Walker x OFC

Chapter Summary: Dinner with Francesca and August; plans are revealed.

Chapter Warnings: Light dom/sub behavior, drinking, oral sex (m receiving), implied unprotected p in v sex, fingering, anal sex, implied torture.

Word Count: 3.6K 

Masterlist: For full series Summary and Warnings

Spotify Playlist: The last three songs (16-18) now belong to this chapter.

Francesca

I knew August was looking for information. He was more agitated than usual and it was apparent he had an idea now that someone had infiltrated his organization. He began to call on me at the most inopportune moments, and I couldn’t tell if he was hoping or not to catch me in a lie. I did hear him trying desperately to convince Mateo his misgivings about me were wrong. I needed to put a stop to any hint of Sy sniffing around, if only to help prove Matteo wrong. August asked about the FBI when we had dinner at his home one evening.

“I’m glad you were able to get free tonight for me, Francesca.”

“August, you know I always come when you call. I’ve had to shuffle a few things around at the gym lately, and they’re starting to get annoyed, but I guess I can always find another studio if I have to.” I took a sip of the wine August had chosen to pair with our meal, tipping my tongue out to catch a small drop of red, drawing his eyes to my lips.

“You know I don’t mean to cause any hardship for you. I wouldn't want to take you away from anywhere else you’d rather be.”

“Now, where else would I rather be, baby, besides right here with you when you want me?”

“Heard from that old ex of yours lately?” August asked, keeping an even voice and betraying with a raised eyebrow only a small hint of the jealousy that I could sense was bubbling beneath the surface.

“Is that where you think I’d rather be? August, you wound me.”

“Francesca. Have you seen him again since he first contacted you?” It was clear August suspected, but I didn’t think he really knew anything. Not now that he’d discovered the guard he had on me had been less than observant on probably more than one occasion. I gave him an answer that I could tell shocked him.

“Yes.” 

August waited for me to elaborate and I continued almost immediately with barely a hesitation.

“He came by the gym one day. My class was canceled and I was on my way out. He invited me to dinner.” I paused then, and gauged his reaction. I wondered if he could feel me doing so. “I declined, if you care to know.”

“There’s no need to be a brat about it. What night was this?” he asked me.

“It was a day, August. Middle of the day.” When I told him what day it was, he clenched his jaw. “You can call the gym, check the logs. He showed up, worked out, chatted me up, and then I left before him.”

“Alright, but was there a night you didn’t spend at home?”

“Why do you think I spent any night away from the apartment?”

“Maybe you should just answer my questions without any more sass. Or are you looking for something tonight?”

I stared defiantly back at him, because I was. I could see him getting turned on and imagined his dick was probably already hard. It shouldn’t turn him on to have me so disagreeable, but it did. He narrowed his eyes, tilted his head, and waited for my answer. I think it hurt his feelings that I simply carried on with my explanation rather than admitting what I wanted from him.

“The electricity went out in my building one night. I called a friend to see if I could stay over. It was incredibly hot that day and I was never going to be able to sleep without AC. She picked me up and it wasn’t until I got back the next morning that I realized I’d forgotten my phone.”

And then I picked right back up with my insolence.

“But I noticed there were no missed calls or messages from you anyway.” I took another drink, with a devilish smirk on my lips.

“Get up,” he growled at me.

“But I’m not done eating, August.”

“You are. Get up. Now.” August watched as I shoved my chair back and stood. “Now if you want something else to fill that bratty little mouth of yours, why don’t you crawl on over here?”

I saw the pleasure on his face as I sank to my knees before placing my hands on the plush rug beneath the dining table and slowly made my way to him, eyes connected to him the entire time. He turned his seat to face me.

“I am still hungry,” I purred when I reached his lap. “What else did you put on the menu tonight?”

August leaned back in his chair and spread his legs wide as he rested one arm on the table beside him and smoothed the other down his inner thigh.

“Is this one of those meals I have to prepare myself?” I dared to tease and I could see through his pants the way August got even harder as I continued to dish out the attitude.

“It’s practically ready now. You just have to take it out.”

I reached up to unzip his trousers then slipped a hand through the opening of his silk boxer shorts and licked my lips at the sight.

“I have to warn you, I’m particularly ravenous tonight,” I smiled up at him as he drew his hand to my head and pulled me closer.

“It’s a good thing this is all for you then.” 

August pulled my head down and closed his eyes as he struggled not to thrust his hips when my mouth wrapped around him. He simply guided me lower and when I opened for him, the look on his face betrayed the way he relished the feel of the back of my throat and the way I gagged while trying to swallow my saliva around his dick. I looked up at him and he opened his eyes to watch the tears of pleasure spill down my face. I never shied away from choking on his dick and I held my own as he began to bob my head in earnest. I kept my mouth wide open when he finally drew me away from his lap just before he grabbed a hold of his own cock to finish himself. He loved watching his seed drip down my face. I knew it made it so much easier for him to get hard again, especially when I swiped my fingers through his spend and wrapped my lips around them to suck them clean.

In the post orgasmic haze after he’d taken me to bed and defiled me a few more ways, he sat up to ask me a question and I noticed he watched my reaction carefully.

“We’re going on another trip, you and I. We’ll return separately this time. I have something I need to bring into the country and I want you to carry it for me. Will you do that for me?”

With some hesitancy, I agreed. I hoped August would take it as a sign that Matteo was nothing but wrong about me. I needed him to feel I was truly and deeply his and that I was only just now beginning to understand that the club wasn’t his only business. 

I was late to the rendezvous back in the States, but I did arrive with all the cargo still intact. After apologizing profusely, I stayed quiet and demure, presenting an obvious change from my behavior at previous meetings when he didn’t think I had a clue what business was going down. Now I remained meek and a little wide-eyed as I watched him complete his business transaction, trading a portion of the drugs for a few large duffles of cash. 

Later in bed, I broached an earlier subject with what was obviously surprising new information for him.

“August, I have to tell you something,” I said, drawing circles over his chest with my fingertips.

“What is it, love?” 

“I’m worried about you.”

“Worried how?”

“Is what we did this time what you do all the time? Is that what taking care of business is for you?”

“Are you having a hard time calling it what it is, Francesca? Did you think I only bought the drugs you and I used together?”

I sat up to face him. “I always wondered, but I didn’t know until now. And it worries me. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

“What trouble would I get into? Are you worried about your FBI friend?”

“August, he’s not my friend anymore. Please you have to believe me. But it does worry me. You said there was nothing to worry about, that he had nothing on you. But we’ve just moved a shit ton of illegal drugs into the country. That doesn’t feel like nothing to me.”

“Everything is under control, Francesca. There’s nothing to worry about. Besides, I have plans to get out of that business.”

“Sooner or later?”

“What is with all these questions?”

“It’s just…okay, look. Please don’t be mad. I don’t want you to think I’ve been taking advantage of you. This really did just happen.”

August sat up now himself, as if he was suddenly concerned about the direction this conversation was headed.

“What really just happened, Francesca?”

“It’s honestly perfect timing. It means we could leave here now, leave everything behind and never look back. I have a house now, in Europe, that no one knows about. And enough in a trust fund to keep us set for the rest of our lives together.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” August was becoming agitated. This was new information and I could tell it concerned him that he didn’t know it was a possibility that I wasn’t the down-on-her-luck struggling yoga instructor he thought I was. He must be wondering who had dropped the ball on my background search.

“August, I love you. I don’t want to see you get into trouble. I want us to be together and I don’t think it’s safe here for you any longer. Give the club to someone else and walk away with me.”

August

August was now convinced Francesca wasn’t a threat to him, and he wanted the same to be true for the rest of his team, but someone was talking out of school and he needed to find out who. August and Mateo conferred in quiet corners and behind closed doors. Assignments were given to test loyalties, background checks run again to see if any conflicting information would appear. 

Mateo was still not convinced about Francesca, especially knowing she had connections no one uncovered before and he told August it was for the best that he didn’t loosen her security detail. August continued to put her off, every time she brought up getting out of the business and hoped he could eventually convince her to let that go. A second home in Europe would be most welcome, but he was never gonna give up his life and run away. 

A couple weeks later, after even more new information had turned up, August finally had what he needed. He knew who was spying and he knew how he wanted to take care of it. No one would ever expect they’d be taken to Paris to be exposed and taught the ultimate lesson. 

He had Francesca packed and ready to go when security arrived to drive them to the airport. It was a quiet flight, even if August did give in let her suck him off in the first class cabin. He really did have such a hard time denying her when she got down on her knees for him. The pout on her face when he wouldn’t let her climb onto his lap might have broken a weaker man.

When they arrived at the hotel, he watched Francesca unpack as he always did. He loved to watch the surprise on her face each time she pulled a new item from the bag and she was always eager to put his choices on display for him. His impeccable taste never failed him; every last article of clothing and accessories complimented her body in a way he imagined she had never felt before. It was as if the act of choosing her attire was the first stage of foreplay August used when he made love to her. If his fingers couldn’t caress her, the fabric and material would, molding to her body and holding her firm.

He spent the afternoon ravishing Francesca in bed, chasing every high he could get as if it might be the last. He tasted every inch of her body, nipping and tonguing along the curves and lines, dipping into the valleys. He held her down, wrists above her head, strong legs spreading her wide while he worked his fingers deep into her, stretching and stroking and smoothing and coaxing early waves of pleasure from her.

August swallowed her gasps of pleasure and howls for more, his lips crushing hers while his tongue slid in deep beside hers. He flipped her over and hauled her ass into the air, kneading and squeezing and groping as he bent low and pressed his tongue along her slit, tasting all the slick she’d made just for him.

He knew it was for him by the way she cried his name, begged him to relieve her, and pleaded for a final release. She was a mess and he still wasn’t done. With his cock deep in her drenched pussy, he popped his thumb in his mouth and licked some saliva on it so when he pressed it against her tight pucker it slipped in with ease. Francesca backed right into it with no hesitation and he knew he’d be able to get all the way in again tonight. She was absolutely ready and wanting that.

He took some time lubing and loosening her up. He had three fingers in with his cock still pumping and she wasn’t showing any signs of wanting him to stop. When August finally pushed the tip in, he could feel the way she drew him in. God, how she wanted to be fucked in the ass.

He did that for her, or so he told himself. He couldn’t quite admit that even if she hadn’t wanted it tonight, he may have taken her this way sooner or later. It was what gave him the ultimate orgasm and it was only a bonus that she loved it, too. August thought about how it might have been fun to add a man to their bed so she could choke on a dick while getting railed from behind, in either hole. 

Once they were cleaned up and dressed, August ushered Francesca down to the hotel lobby to meet Mateo for the drive to the club.

“August, baby. This isn’t the way to the club,” Francesca commented, glancing out the window.

“And how would you know the way to the club, darling? We’ve never been here together before.” He watched her closely, scanned her face and body for any twitch, any shiver, any tell. As always, he found nothing.

“The GPS says,” she answered, pulling her hand up from beside her and showing him the mapping app that was clearly flashing to recalculate a route. “I always love to see directions. It helps me get used to the city. God, I hope we come back here someday. I always wanted to see Paris. Now that we’re here, I never want to leave.” 

Francesca turned back to peer out the window again and August watched her marvel at the lights and buildings around them. For all her sharp edges, August always found the wonder in her eyes endearing. Though he did find it odd when he realized she had most likely spent time in Europe, though she acted as if everything was brand new each time. When they pulled up to the warehouse, he restrained a small smirk when she commented that it didn’t look like the kind of club that suited her dress. 

That was her way of saying the spot looked haggard and run down and maybe a little beneath them. And of course it was. It was a warehouse. It was most definitely not a club.

August let her enter first, door held like a gentleman before he turned the handle over to Mateo and entered himself. He didn’t bother hiding the lick of his lips as he watched her ass in the tight dress strut forward in front of him. He could tell she was still horny from the afternoon.

August caught her as she stumbled back into him, seemingly to escape the sight in front of her.

“August, what is this?” He could hear her voice break when she asked the question.

“What does it look like darling?” he answered. Something in her answer would hopefully convince Mateo he had been wrong when he pointed a finger at her. August felt differently, partly due to his previous conversations with her and partly due to the very little actual evidence Mateo presented to make his case. August countered with the more obvious details that pointed to the man in the chair. 

“August, you said I had nothing to worry about with you. You said…” she leaned into him, and August thought he detected at least a hint of terror. It would be the first time she’d broken like this before him, though he was sure she barely knew this man sitting before her, beaten unconscious. Will Shaw had hardly ever been around when she was. Maybe a few nights at the club, but always on the periphery.  She didn’t know him, she could only see the state he was in, probably barely hanging on. Of course she’d flinch. This wasn’t the first time he was showing her his hand, but it was a doozy.

“August, please. Did you know what was happening here? You have to help him. You can’t let him die. If you help him, that’ll count for something,” Frankie pleaded with him. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to hurt people.”

“Francesca, you’re a very smart and resourceful woman. I’ve grown extremely fond of you. I want you with me, but you do need to know there is a dark side you haven’t seen yet. Sometimes, people work against me. Sometimes, they are looking out for themselves, trying to take from me more than they deserve. Sometimes, they have a sinister motive. Maybe they want to take my business, run me out of the game.” August walked Francesca cautiously towards Will, keeping a firm grip on her arms. “And sometimes, they want to hurt me. Sometimes they think they have the right to keep me from the work I was destined to do and they try to get me in trouble. Will here was trying to get me into trouble.”

August spun Francesca to face him, searching her eyes for understanding. 

“Francesca, do you think it’s right for someone to pretend to be someone they aren’t? And then to use that subterfuge to ingratiate themselves into my life so they could try to find unflattering details about my work?”

August watched Francesca blink and saw her pupils dilate. The way her iris had let the black overtake it told him what he needed to know: she was scared. It was good enough for him.

“Nnn..no, August,” she stammered. “But he’s really hurt. Lemme help him.”

August wasn’t prepared for the way she twisted from his grip, so she was on her knees next to Will before he had a chance to take hold of her again. He watched her touch him tentatively, perhaps checking for a pulse as she pushed his watch out of the way and set her fingers on his wrist. She set a hand on the back of his neck and tilted his head back as she pulled his eyelids gently open to check for any reaction. The way her shoulders relaxed told August Will was still alive.

“Anything you think you can do for him? It’s of no use. Francesca, this is something you need to get comfortable with. I will not allow someone to hurt me. Do you understand?”

Syverson

Frankie had been out of pocket and unreachable for weeks now. Syverson knew every move she made, along with August Walker, but the fact that she wouldn’t answer his calls or texts, even on the burner phone number he’d been given made him nervous. Or perhaps frustrated was a better word for it.

He continued to liaise with Director Marshall, usually through Ramos, and continued stacking evidence against Walker even though there was nothing he could do about it for now. His superiors weren’t happy about the fact that another agency was blocking his case, but pressure from even higher up forced them to accept the stalled state of the investigation. 

He spent days in surveillance locations and nights thinking about Frankie in his bed. He had to keep reliving those moments to fend off the visuals of her and August together. What he wouldn’t give to have her next to him again, begging for his touch.

He had signed off on the joint agency paperwork that would allow Frankie back into the country with the dope August was peddling, but he hated how much deeper she was getting with August. She was now openly transporting for him which meant August was placing his trust in her even more than before. 

Taglists

He also wanted to trust she knew what she was doing, but he feared for her safety, no matter how good of an agent she was. Victoria continued to assure him that Walter had everything under control, but he only wanted to hear it from Frankie’s mouth directly. Apparently, until the CIA was done with their case, that was never gonna happen.

Chapter 7

Everything Henry:  @sillyrabbit81 @kittenofdoomage @mayloma @kebabgirl67 @fvckinghenrycavill @geralts-yenn  @beck07990  @itsrubberbisquit @sweetdreamsofgelato  @liveoncoffeeandflowersss   @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume  @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings  @enchantedbytomandhenry  @omgkatinka  @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @thesaucynomad @just-chirpin @henryownsme

Walk with Me only (I added you if you reblogged or asked and Tumblr would let me): @kingliam2019 @valacircareads @sofiebstar @cardierreh15​ @firstcashheroathlete​ @ylva-syverson​ @sunriserose1023​ @cavilladdict​ @angreav​ @ellethespaceunicorn​ @mis-lil-red​ @peaches1958​ @xhoneyxbeex​ @livisss​  @hangmanscoming​ 

[thebestestbat]

Omega Dick Week Day Four: Protective Instincts

Roydick, 700 words, SFW

warning: oblique references to bruce being inappropriate

though in my heart of hearts this exists in the same universe as my Day 2 fic.

-

They're about to have sex when Dick locks up. Roy feels when it happens and he's grateful that he still has his shirt and boxers on. Dick's scent is off just slightly—not quite the bitterness of fear, but not the usual sweet omega scent. He retreats a little, lays next to Dick on the sheets, and strokes his arm with the tips of his fingers. Sometimes Dick pulls himself away from whatever it is that is upsetting him in a minute or so, and he gets upset if Roy pushes it or coddles him. 

"Sorry, I just..." Dick says. Roy watches his eyes flick around on the ceiling and thinks that probably Dick isn't going to get back in the mood tonight. He sends this message to his cock by imagining Psimon naked. 

Dick suddenly sits up. "There could be cameras." 

It took a while to get to the point where Dick can find the thing—or at least *some*thing—he's anxious about and put it into words. Roy tries to treat each one of his vague confessions with respect. He doesn't really know what to say about 'cameras' when before it's been things like the room is too cold, the curtains aren't completely shut, his back hurts, the couch is dirty. All scapegoats for the real problem, but things that made sense. 

Dick doesn't elaborate, and Roy gets up and helps him hunt for his clothes and pull them on, including his jeans. They sit back on the bed in silence.

"Cameras?" Roy asks. 

"I know it's crazy. I can't stop thinking there is one."

"Okay." The thing is, they're both high profile vigilantes. Roy glances into the corners of the hotel room, at shadows underneath the TV stand. it's not outside of the realm of possibility... "Why do you think that?"

Dick makes a frustrated noise and rubs his eyes. "I don't. I don't. There aren't any."

"Okay." Well, now it's in Roy's head. "You sure?"

It was the wrong thing to say again. "I'm not!" Dick sounds like he's about to cry. 

Roy scoots closer and raises a hand to touch his elbow, and uses the other hand to rub at his own wrist, releasing as much of his scent into the room as he can in the hopes that it will help. The silence builds. Roy wants to offer to help, though he doesn't know how: turning on the TV? checking the room for cameras?

Before he can, Dick says, "I'm just always thinking it's still there, even in a totally different room. I'm sorry."

Roy has been a part of several groups of Titans, starting with his own group, and so he has experience taking an absurd statement in stride. 

"You had a camera in your room?"

Dick wipes his forehead on his arm and then lays back against the mattress, his feet still on the floor. "Not in the bathroom or anything weird."

One time when they were kids Roy had tried to kiss Dick in the Manor. Not in his room, in a random ground-floor living room. Dick had flipped out and shoved him away like they were doing something illegal. He always wanted to hang out with Roy in the Tower instead, and only ever touched him in the Tower. 

"Stop it," Dick says. 

Roy blinks and now he can smell his own alpha scent, all over the room, the scent of an alpha all puffed up with the need to protect. 

"I just couldn't jerk off, okay? It's nothing," Dick says. 

Roy takes a deep breath. He could make a big deal or he could follow Dick's lead, like he had when Dick made it clear to never kiss him in the Manor. "Okay."

He lays down next to Dick and snuggles closer. When Dick turns towards him, Roy takes him in his arms and resettles them further up on the bed, curling his larger body around Dick's, pushing his nose into the scent gland at the base of Dick's neck. He smells calm and sweet. 

"You're sweet," Roy tells him in a purr. 

Dick huffs. "You smell like you're protecting a baby." 

"You're my baby." Roy presses a kiss to the back of his neck. 

"Whatever," Dick says, and falls asleep like that with his jeans on.

[elitadream]

You’re Body Swap Au is such an interesting concept especially when one considers what that would do to Luigi? Would he know immediately something was wrong with his brother? If not one could only imagine what Bowser would do to Luigi, what torture would he put Luigi through.

Then you got concept of Luigi meeting Mario in Bowser’s body which would be jarring as well.

Then you have the aftermath of it all, whatever Bowser did to him while he had control over Mario’s body even if it was just imprisonment would definitely have leave Luigi with some trauma.

Imagine the two of them are just spending the day together, maybe just outside and Mario reached his hand out to ruffle his hair or pat his back and Mario unfortunately is standing where the sunlight is shining just enough to make his eyes red and Luigi just flinches. He regrets it immediately but the damage is done and Mario’s shattered expression breaks his heart. Luigi goes to apologize but Mario just hugs him and says “I’m so sorry, for whatever he did to you while he had control over my body.”

Luigi hugs him back immediately “It’s okay, he didn’t do anything that bad, n-not whatever your thinking of. A few bruises and scrapes. Just… in the lightning, your eyes.”

Mario hugged him tighter, “I’m sorry.”

Luigi would shake his head, sensing Mario’s guilt, “I’m sorry, I know you would never me.”

Mario squeezes him tighter reaching up and holding the back of Luigi’s head protectively, tears stinging his vision, “Never.” The mere thought of hurting Luigi, even unintentionally made him sick to his stomach. “Never, fratellino.”

Then the two would sit there, holding each other tightly.

Aww 😢 The aftermath sure is bittersweet to think about! 💔 I remember that's something I had contemplated back when I first elaborated the concept as well. To what extent Luigi and Peach would be impacted by those events, and how this lingering fissure would continue to be felt later on. 😔

What Bowser would do to Luigi entirely depends on the level of angst you'd want to give the story, but one thing for sure is that both brothers would need time to adjust once everything would go back to normal. Would they have endured this for days? Weeks? Months, previously? That's another element I've never given much thought to. 😧

I can picture the nightmares, the heightened anxiety, the hidden sorrow, the long road to full recovery... But they'd be in this together, both safe and sound in the end. And that alone would be enough. 💞🌅

-

As a side note, I think it's really interesting that some of you guys perceive the eye color change in a literal sense! I've always emphasized this particular detail to avoid confusion and convey the inner switch very clearly to anyone who would stumble upon one of these posts without context, though in my mind, the eyes actually stay the same. However, I love that I'm seeing different interpretations of this! 😇 If anything, it goes better with the lovely scenario you've sent, and you're entirely free to see it one way or the other. ✨️

[agent-love-101]

Do you have any Jack Horner hcs for how he would apologize to his s/o after hurting them? Like s/o had dinner reservations and a whole date night planned out and Jack forgot / got swamped with work.. and didn’t find out until the next day that his s/o had made these elaborate plans for him. (I really love your ideas for Jack! I was curious how many other people were simping over him and I’m pleased it’s a lot! Haha)

oh this is such a sweet concept ;0; lets see what i can do!!

Big Jack Horner x Reader; Stood Up

i can only imagine how you would feel in such a situation.

carefully planning. setting up. and waiting.

adorning the invitation letter with hearts as the dots in the i's. carefully writing the cursive, putting on a nice outfit... and waiting.

and waiting.

and waiting.

you can't help but feel embarrassed everytime the waitstaff would come by. you dined alone that day.

you hoped it wasn't deliberate. but if you began to see it that way...who would blame you? it was almost- no..it was an act of betrayal. it hurt you in the most sensitive of places.

you walked home alone. and you wept in bed alone.

meanwhile on jack's side..

all he wanted was one day to take a break from his swarm of mail.

honestly, it was barely a conscious decision

as soon as he got home, he just crashed into bed.

as much as he loved the silence. he couldn't help but feel it was all wrong.

however that didn't keep him from drifting to sleep.

the next day was when he discovered the letter.

be glad you weren't the staff that received his wrath. of course he blamed them at first and he still does to some extent, because he's jack.

but he also had to acknowledge he was at fault.

he spent that tense morning planning what he is to do.

he had never overthought more in his life. it was a fairly new feeling to him too. something important was at stake. he could lose the one person he cares about.

he thought of intricate gifts to buy back your love, he thought of making new plans for the both of you to attend.

but ultimately he decided he would make his way to your home and try to explain himself.

as he made his way to your door, he couldn't help but detect a feeling burrowed into his chest. he doesn't know what it is, so he ignores it.

as you opened the door, tired eyes making contact with his...

seeing the glossy look on your cheeks from recently shed tears, well, it made that feeling in his chest known. it was anxiety. it was remorse. it was pain.

and with that feeling, his vocal chords almost locked in place. all those words he planned to say suddenly lost.

in the end, he went with something completely different. something unexpected. something that made you question if he was really jack Horner and not some doppelganger.

as your eyes flicked from looking at him to the foliage outside, out of embarrassment (.how could you let him see you like this? you shouldn't have opened the door. i bet he thinks he won now.), he manages to saw a few words after a few moments of tense silence.

"..i'm sorry."

that shocked you. not only was it an apology, but it was delivered with such...sincerity. he really was apologetic. he felt bad.

you let him in. (that better not be a mistake) and after a lengthy conversation, all is forgiven. you both decide the best thing to do now is to just relax together.

if you aren't satisfied with a simple apology and discussion, don't worry. he will definitely compensate with a lot of gifts for a long while. he's gotta get on your good side after all.

[m4ndysk4nkovich]

Do you think Ian, Lip or Fiona ever broke any bones as kids? And if so, how do you think that it happened?

oh 100%

we actually learned that ian broke his collarbone at 12, and i always find that very interesting.

there are three ways that i think this could have happened:

he pulled a season 1 carl. i feel like younger ian was basically just like younger carl just a bit quieter and more mellow (less of a psycho), but he was definitely athletic and hyper like him. in season 1 carl tries to do a crazy stunt by driving a dirt bike off of the roof or some shit like that and ends up breaking his arm, so i can imagine ian trying to show off for lip or something and then just landing wrong and… bam. maybe he like, fell out of a tree or something. all i know is that it must’ve been pretty ian “play what cool” gallagher.

he and lip pull one of their infamous schemes and ian fucks up. yet again, ian “play what cool” gallagher lives up to that name. i’m thinking of the first scene with them both in 3x01 when they’re stealing that part for the thing lip was building (sorry i’m doing a rewatch rn but i’m only at like 2x07 so i don’t remember what) and then ian jumps off of the building and runs from the cops. maybe they stole something dumb from like, the mall or something, and they get chased and ian tries to do what he does in 3x01, but he’s only 12 so he’s not as strong, trained, and tall as he ends up being so he totally fucks up and gets caught. that’s pretty similar to #1 but i’m placing the blame more on lip because let’s be honest, lip most definitely had something to do with it.

football. ian played football in elementary/middle school, according to season 2 carl, so maybe he got hurt doing that? i was going to try to elaborate but all i know about football is that there’s a ball and people get tackled so… yeah. maybe his collarbone was the reason he stopped playing. like, we know he stopped and we know he wished monica was there when he broke it, so maybe he got hurt at a game that monica missed (ian gives monica shit for missing carl’s other games in season 2, maybe he was projecting?) and since he was injured and realized his mom couldn’t be bothered to come anyways, he quit? …damn that got angsty oops

also, ian is such an athlete that i can imagine him breaking other bones too, and based off of the scene in 1x01 where fiona says she can “never remember whether that’s good or bad” when lip winces after she’s trying to help him leads me to believe she’s had to deal with a kid breaking a leg or an ankle or something. i think it would be ian. i also remember hearing that when you break a bone it makes it easier to break it again later on, so him breaking his leg when he was younger could explain how his leg snapped so easily in 10x08😭

as for fiona, i can’t ever see her breaking a bone but for some reason i can really see her spraining her ankle as a teen. she was a track star and always going on runs, and i feel like that’s a common injury in track (my girlfriend does track… that’s the only somewhat athletic thing i know even a little bit about so i apologize for my stupidity about this LMAO). it could be a serious problem if fiona needed to lay low for a bit, because she would not let herself do it. and if she was still in school and doing track she’d be like, 16? so ian and lip would be 10 and 11, and i could imagine them forcing her to lay down and rest while they took care of things for her.

lip has never broken a bone in his life, miraculously. i mean, if you count breaking his nose, a few knuckles, and bruising his ribs then maybe, but i don’t think he’s really suffered a serious injury like that before. he always is getting into (and losing) fights, but he managed to never break a bone. my man is too unathletic for that shit (me too bro)… a deviated septum and maybe a sprained wrist are the worst injuries he’s delt with.

[tmntxthings]

Hi, me again, the one with the future donnie and leo ideas with more cause why not

Just wanted to jot down some UC (unnamed child/character) and Casey Jr cousin behavior as they’re raised by different “dads” (Leo being Casey’s and Donnie being UC’s)

(Again, do whatever you want with this info)

The two deciding to put on a performance so their dads will let them have a sleep over despite literally living with each other (they leaned from April cousins used to dance in order to get what they want)

UC bringing back trinkets they get from going on scavenger hunts with Donnie and Casey keeping them all in a box

Casey bringing back any books he’s able to find while going on patrols with Leo for UC (sometimes they’re a little you know ripped and muddy but psh book is book)

Apocalypse training! The cousins are a deadly duo and the twins couldn’t be more proud, almost seeing themselves in their kids (#theygrowupsofast #soonthey’llbekillingsomemonsters #couldntbemoreproudofthekids)

Elaborating more on that, they sometimes can’t train in the same room, especially when they were younger and couldn’t grasp the severity in training so they’d goof when the adults weren’t looking (some angst possibilities here). Either that or they did manage to grasp their situation fairly quickly and adapted their mindsets to learn the techniques they were being taught faster (#childhoodGONE)

Almost never go on patrols separately. You will have to PULL them apart if you want to take one and leave the other (only exception if it’s with one of their family members but if they’re assigned to different groups the two HAVE to go together)

Tried making a blood pact once (“its a blood pact, we go down together”) *cue the twins scooping up their respective kid before they can actually go through with it*

I imagine UC asking Donnie for help to make a music box for Casey Jr after he lost his mom (April helped)

Them actually getting better at dancing and sometimes they’ll be dancing around their rooms despite there not being any music because they’re cool like that

Sneaking into Donnie’s lab in order to see what kinds of shenanigans he’s doing in there

Getting caught sneaking into Donnie’s lab in order to see what kinds of shenanigans he’s doing in there (#worthit)

UC imagining making the weirdest shit only to actually put those thoughts into action and drags Casey Jr along too

UC, holding a blueprint: So, I have an idea for a new weapon. It's a combination of a laser gun and a grenade launcher.

Casey Jr: That sounds dangerous.

Cousin: Exactly! It's perfect for taking out a whole group of Kraang soldiers at once!

Casey Jr: *raises an eyebrow* And what if we accidentally blow ourselves up?

Cousin: *holding up a wrench like it’s a sword* Then we'll go out in a blaze of glory!

Casey Jr: I prefer to not go out at all, thank you very much…

The two doing their best to sneak up on Leo despite him catching them everytime (literally. He’d probably turn around last second and grab them scaring them instead of the other way around like the two planned)

Ganging up on people. Like what do you mean UC is not getting taller? You’re wrong! Yeah tell em Casey Jr! (No one is safe)

UC rambling about more in depth science stuff and Casey Jr just 🧍👍 (I have a feeling that he is good at science because..Donnie, but since UC is mechanically inclined and was raised directly by Donatello they’re just WOOO you know?)

April and Mikey setting up little forts for them and the four just hang around giggling and rolling around like four puppies

Casey Jr doing his best for his cousin after Donnie died, leaving behind all his work to be carried on by his kid, and reminds them that they can share the burden of being the backbone of the resistance

Getting into petty fights with each other over something small like, who gets the last piece scrap metal idk

Thinking about angst scenarios where one of them is too far to reach the other (who is in danger) and they get hurt badly and then having to quickly get them back home and explain what happened

Another angsty scenario eating away at me is one of them is forced to take a different route than expected when patrolling and they lose contact with the base. The panic and chaos that would happen…

Wowwwwww!!! I’m in shock, future anon you sent me hcs 😍🤭

Honestly though UC sounds so cool/cute scenarios where Casey Jr. has someone around his age and Donnie basically has his own kid 😘🤌 just mwah, love it!!! I just had to post this even though I don’t have much to add just tot this was super duper cute ❤️❤️❤️

[fluffypotatey]

heyyy isnt it wild how when characters say that mk "literally never listens" that is Also a case of unreliable narration. mk listens a lot actually!! he listens to macaque's "you don't use a weapon, you ARE the weapon" monologue in 1x09. he listens to mac again in shadow play (since he was able to quote back the "then be a warrior!" bit). actually now that i think of it there are a lot lot lot of times when mk deliberately echoes someone else's dialogue and clearly he had to have been listening to them and internalizing it bc otherwise he wouldnt be able to repeat it (things like "chose the wrong successor," "to pain," and "harbinger of chaos" come to mind). the thing is tho that mk usually tends to listen to + internalize things that hurt him or otherwise confirm his own fears. so its actually worse in the long run for him!! :D

imagine you are MK. most of your life before this whole story began was you working under Pigsy, your boss/dad, and hanging out with Mei, your best friend in the world.

constantly, you will have Pigsy screaming up a storm about employee etiquette and how MK should clock in on time and “if you ever come to work late again, i’ll fire you!” or you have Tang telling you beautiful stories in exchange for free food because every tale he spins is magical and adventurous. or you have Mei who is a little bit like the little devil on your shoulder egging you on to another game or arcade or movie or outing because both of you never truly had a friend until you met each other and never know when to end your time hanging out.

and we see this in the second episode of season 1, where MK feels pulled in every direction with his job, spending time with Mei, helping out Sandy, and training with the Monkey King. EVEN BY S1 HE IS AT THE END OF HIS ROPE!!! And did anybody truly notice????? DID THEY????

and yeah, Pigsy, Mei, and Minky King are the big contenders for telling MK he isn’t listening, and honestly MK does have a problem with understanding the intent and meaning behind what his friends are saying as he’ll only take in the superficial. however, when it comes to the most stressful and dire times, MK is all ears.

he absolutely understood LBD’s words when she put him and his self worth down, he understood Macky’s ire and vitriol (and was able to piece together that most of Macky’s words are a shield), he understood SWK’s aversion for allowing MK and the gang’s help with finding the rings because of their mortality

here is my assumption of what MK is learning from the people around him (bc my personal headcanon is that MK learns and understands how to behave and react from the people in his circle):

he’s learning that his friends’ needs are more important than his own

he has learned that a lot of his worries are meaningless because they typically get brushed off

in addition to that, he learned that if he has any issues, it would be better to keep them to himself because it truly is no big deal and will find some resolution eventually

he learns that nobody is fully certain he can do things on his own

he learns that many people (the villains) believe he’s someone they can mold into their own

MK is internalizing a lot of shit. and we see a snippet of that behavior I think in s3 where he bemoans about not being good enough for SWK and Pigsy’s is like “woah, wait a minute….did that asshole really say that to you???”

and the thing is, Wukong didn’t say that nor would he ever intend to say something that would make MK think little about himself; however, Wukong has his own issue of never elaborating on shit, so while he may have said “listen, bud, this journey is super dangerous and life threatening, and you’re still mortal so it would be best if you stayed here” what MK heard was “since you’re still a weak mortal, this mission isn’t cut out for you”

and yeah it just eloquently shows how MK internalizes the worst of people’s words (hey, like mentor like student, am I right? 👀) which is why it is so easy for the antagonists to creep into his head (LBD, Mac, Azure, Ink!MK, possibly PIF???)

but yeah, what you said, bestie

[foster-the-moths]

part 2 to my other post bc i realized i never elaborated on what i think adam and jonah's friendship is like in canon: i think adam kind of. knows he isn't really all that great at the whole 'friendship' thing. hes never really made a good, lasting connection with someone that didnt end badly and by the time he meets jonah i think hes recognized that pattern. he believes that no matter what, he will end up hurting someone if he gets close to them. so when he realizes jonah is trying to be his friend he just. tells him this. how every friendship hes had has crashed and burned and he doesnt know what he did wrong but he doesnt want a repeat of it. and he expects jonah to bail out after hearing this. but he doesn't. instead he insists on being friends with adam, because hes in the same boat. maybe hes afraid of commitment, or ghosted people, or just never really made friends to begin with, but it doesnt matter. because how could it possibly turn out worse than all of the other times? it can't hurt worse than it already does. thats jonah's logic, at least. and eventually adam gives up on trying to warn him and just. lets himself have a friend for once. a friend thats admittedly really annoying and makes jokes he doesnt understand and pushes his buttons on purpose but. he's a friend, and adam will take what he can get. and maybe after they do drugs and chase raccoons out of people's attics they get closer, and maybe, just maybe, jonah was right. maybe this time it won't fall apart. maybe this time adam has a friend. and on jonah's end, maybe he's finally found someone he can look in the eye, that he doesn't want to hide from after a month. maybe he can actually keep a friend for once, maybe he can stop running. so imagine how horrible it is when jonah finally runs into something he cannot run away from, and when adam finds an empty car with blood on the side of the road, the only thing he can think is how much of a fool jonah was to think it could be different for once. and how much of a fool adam was for believing him. and maybe when a voice in his head whispers that maybe they were never really friends to begin with if jonah left him behind, he listens to it. because its easier than losing his only friend.