#but my family has his own problems so it’s coming out of my ever-dwindling savings accnt

[hagravenholm]

Okay

[calware]

what r some of ur fav Hal fics? Currently looking 2 read some and would love some recs!

sure thing!!

fics that are specifically about hal:

Reallocated by breezefulskies mature - chose not to use archive warnings - 324,756 words - 65 chapters (unfinished) Hal finds himself stranded aboard a certain meteor, impact-bound for Houston, Texas circa 1995. And everything spirals out from there. Because sometimes, when a system seems to be just short of defunct, all that is required is to take a step back and reevaluate the materials at hand and redistribute your available resources. And so, with birth comes a countdown on a cycle that begins as it ends: In the red.

hal is mysteriously sent to earth via unknown means and finds himself raising a baby as best as he can, which, given that he's glasses, is not easy. this is my favorite homestuck fic, not just because it's about hal, but also because i love the focus on family dynamics and the plot as it unfolds. begging everyone to read this, i can't say what happens exactly without spoiling things, it's just really really good. at the moment, it updates once a month

Ersatz Abyss by katreal mature - no archive warnings apply - 120,092 words - 39 chapters (unfinished) You look into the mirror to find your own face looking back at you. You laugh. And then you cry. Last, you try and figure out how you got to this moment. The Auto-Responder had long since resigned himself to an artificial existence, his only dwindling hope for escape hinging on a promise that has yet to be fulfilled. Then one day he wakes up, Dirk nowhere to be found. What's the point in getting what you want, if you can't show off a little?

another great hal fic. i managed to get my roommate (who has not read homestuck) to read this and they really enjoyed it, so i'm sure you all won't have any problems liking this one either. there are a lot of fics out there of hal getting a body, but this one is very different in that it's not the happy ending that you might first think it is. this fic perfects the feeling of everything snowballing into a bigger and bigger problem until it all falls apart

fics that have hal in them:

Bound in Ink and Iron by cyphertext (@4lph4kidz) teen - no archive warnings apply - 18,627 words - 3 chapters (unfinished) A prisoner in his own kingdom, the Prince of Derse seeks his freedom through the inadvisable use of a magic mirror. While making his escape he finds himself lost and in the company of a strange boy who lives alone in the ruins of his grandmother’s cottage. Both cursed, both hunted, they agree to travel together in the hopes that they can find some way to save their loved ones from their terrible fates. Or so the story goes.

hal is in this one for one chapter. but so far there are only three chapters... which means he's there for a whole third of the fic ^_^ but for real, i really like the way zero portrays him here. i am a supporter of evil shadow clone rights

Tennessee Whiskey & You by mistlafey teen - graphic depictions of violence, major character death - 12,217 words - 5 chapters (unfinished) When Dirk dies after an aneyursm, Hal and Jake have difficulties coping. Jake drinks to forget, and eventually Hal can't handle drunk Jake and his own grief - so he turns that into anger. “I’m not him, Jake! I can’t fucking- I can’t fix you. Dirk is gone and you don’t get to pretend he isn’t anymore. I can’t be Dirk, and every time you try to tell me I am it fucking hurts. There’s nothing left for you here. If Dirk was the only person that filled a void in you, there is nothing left to make you whole.”

i honestly have no idea how this is going to go but the bar scene in this one lives in my head rent-free. idk if it's ever going to update again though. hal fans forever forced to take what we can get

Falling for the First Time by nobrandhero teen - no warnings apply - 63,818 words - 11/17 chapters The game is over, Alpha Earth resets to 2009, and Dirk's bro doesn't live up to expectations. The movie director who appears so chill and stoic in interviews is actually a talkative, needy dweeb like his teenage counterpart. It's not a bad thing, as far as Dirk's concerned.

for whatever reason, i'm a sucker for fics where the characters somehow end up on earth again post-game, and out of all the fics that follow that concept this one is my favorite. hal is also there sometimes

[tg-headcanons]

TELL US ABOUT AHIGA!!

(Lost this in the ask pile and was just reminded) MY WRETCHED LITTLE BOY!! I’m putting it under the cut because it’s a big rant about my most wildly self indulgent oc

(My drawing ability is extremely bad but Fuck It We Ball) he’s from an Au I made with my bf @fawntastic (he drew the cast here)

Ahiga Cain is 17 years old, 6’5, an up and coming musician and is the last known member of H. Sapiens Cleptavox. They were one of the native ghoul species of the Americas and once a prominent part of the environment and society, but after hundreds of years of sickness and war, their numbers have dwindled to the certainty of extinction. He was born as the result of a last ditch attempt to save the species, but it ultimately failed.

He only made it to three years old before the CCG found where his mother had been living with him in a cave on protected land in the Grand Canyon, and an extermination operation was carried out on the day his younger brother was born. He was the only one who managed to make it out, fleeing towards the closest shelter, a dumpster where he was found a few days later by Arlen Cain, one of the investigator’s responsible who was coming back to the scene to do reports. He, already having some weird relationships with ghouls (I lowkey based psyb houji on him), and having also just been given custody of the daughter of a coworker who died in the operation, took him home and hid him away until he could be sure the kid wasn’t dangerous and reported him as a human child he found captured by ghouls. It was obvious that Ahiga was not human, he wasn’t even a normal ghoul, but after seeing what his partner did to that kakuja’s other cub, Arlen didn’t want any more children to die. Plus, he kind of wanted to see how this played out

Ahiga grew up in an extremely weird situation. One of his fathers is a common Eurasian ghoul, the other is an investigator actively covering up his identity, and his sister is a human who lost her mother at the same time he lost his, but they grew up close as creepy rural kid twins who just go off into the desert unsupervised sometimes. They had to learn as they went how Ahiga worked, especially when he ate birds and rodents and seemed to be fine and mimicked their own voices back at them, but they were happy. They just put him in loose clothing so it’s hard to tell how weirdly shaped he is, claimed he was born with ROS, and occasionally got information and help raising him from the few members of his mother’s tribe who knew about him.

The main problem at this point, was Vivienne. She’s Arlen’s partner, and more importantly, she was the one who brought down his mother. She’s reached high acclaim after killing a kakuja of a ghoul species previously thought to be prehistoric, and has since wracked up a reputation as being the most ruthless and effective ghoul hunter the Las Vegas CCG has seen in a long time. She’s a friend of the family, because it would be suspicious to cut her off at this point, and is close to Ahiga. He knows who she is, what she did, but instinctively he wants to be near her because when she uses the quinque made from his mother, it left her scent on her, and ever since sensing it as a small child he’s been attached. No matter how much he tries to rationalize it as he gets older, he still wants to be around her. And Vivienne, not aware that there’s anything wrong with Ahiga besides his illness and many allergies, loves him. Arlen is the closest thing to family she has, and so are his kids

His life was, oddly enough, pretty normal as a kid, up to the time other ghouls found out about him. They were so focused on protecting him from humans, that they didn’t know to protect him from certain ghouls, and a restaurant society heard rumors that the last cleptavox in the world was alive and well and ripe for the taking. He was taken by them when he was 11, and carefully kept alive so he could be butchered and auctioned off piecemeal, fed enough to regenerate, and start over again. It was there in captivity when his kagune finally started to harden, and after a couple weeks there, he managed to kill a handler and escape. He made his way home, but wasn’t the same after that. He had hoped to never get involved in the violence of the ghoul world, he wanted to just live like a human as much as he could, but the violence had found him and all because he was the last of a doomed species. He never wanted to be an endling, it wasn’t his choice, but he was one and now both humans and ghouls want to cut him to pieces for it, without even the dignity of a clean death

After that, he accepted that he’d need to be prepared to fight, but that wasn’t enough. It wasn’t fair, his mother didn’t deserve to die, his little brother didn’t deserve to die, all ghouls didn’t deserve to be hunted and have their lives ruined for what they can’t control, and he’ll do whatever he can to change it. The way his body changed after having to regenerate from being butchered, his hair turning white and his instincts getting worse, as well as the feeling that it wasn’t his anymore, made him eager to decide to turn it into a weapon. He and his sister, Megan, learned to hunt. His fathers, though reluctant, brought home ghoul meat. Ahiga, being a subspecies designed for cannibalism, grew a kakuja quickly.

He burst onto the scene to slaughter doves patrolling any area close to where his mother was killed, and it was obvious that this new one was the same species as the SSS ranked Coyote King that was exterminated there years ago. The CCG was whipped into a frenzy trying to find and kill it, headed by Vivienne, who having grown up in CCG education, saw the extermination of another ancient monster the perfect legacy

Ahiga became known as Roadkill, and quickly rose to his mother’s rank of SSS along with his sister, who became known as Jaeger, who is rank S as the CCG hasn’t yet figured out she isn’t a ghoul. They’ve amassed a gang, making it their business to not only support the ghouls in the area with food and shelter, but to launch coordinated attacks on CCG buildings and operations. There was a particularly brutal one when Operation Headlights, the task force led by Vivienne and Arlen to exterminate Roadkill and it’s gang, was first formed. His gang cornered the members sent to exterminate them, but rather than killing them themselves, he had them split into groups, vote on which of them will die, and them to kill the losers. After the wave of resignations that came from that it became well known in the CCG that even the money and acclaim that comes with the position isn’t worth what those ghouls will do to them.

He and his sister are horrors. In possum and deer skull masks, they and their gang move quickly on bikes and in cars, strike fast, and pile up corpses before the law can respond. He’s the reason that their branch of the CCG had to make new rules that sound like they come straight out of a horror movie, such as “do not believe anything said over the phone or radio as it could be a mimicry” and “no gloves or sunglasses in the office to ensure a ghoul wearing human skin is not on the premises”

In order to justify staying in Las Vegas full time as opposed to the more rural area outside of it his family lived at, they claimed to be starting a band as it was very believable that two idiot teenagers thought they could make it big performing at casinos. Their cover story worked to explain why they were always in the city that Roadkill and Jaeger were terrorizing, but by pure coincidence, they did well. They just happened to be at the right place at the right time, performing some stupid little show at a casino a relative worked at, when they got some attention. They realized that some fame will be good, not because of the money (though being able to afford a private jet to smuggle ghouls around in didn’t hurt), but because making music with ghoul dogwhistles can help get the word out to recruit more people for their militia

By now they’re a well oiled machine of performance, Murder, and self destructive spirals for the sake of destroying the CCG. Though Ahiga remains distant from his comrades. It’s not that he’s particularly rude or doesn’t want to be close to them, but because as he gets older, his subspecies traits become more obvious and very unsettling to other ghouls. He makes too much eye contact, his talons are way too big, and his occasional quadrupedal walk make other ghouls not want to be around him as he’s just uncanny. Being a kakuja also doesn’t help. So he’ll go out of his way to find other ghouls that are weird subspecies or kakuja because he’s kind of desperate to hang out with someone as weird as him. He’s also just kind of cringe in the way he behaves

Becoming so powerful at such a young age, especially in response to a horrific event and knowing that he’s the last of his kind, did terrible things to Ahiga. He compulsively cannibalizes to grow his kakuja even as his RC fluctuations grow out of control and leave him dependent on all sorts of suppressants and medications, and leaning on a cane half the time he’s out of combat. He’s been utilizing drugs and machinery to try to make himself stronger, dosing himself with all types of chemicals and plants to make his kakuja bigger and more aggressive while his sister tries out ways of armoring it and attaching mounted turrets to his back. It’s quickly destroying him, chipping away at his body and mind as he’s left with injuries, chemical imbalances, mood swings and hallucinations for the sake of turning himself into the war machine

But he’s careful to make sure the public and Vivienne can never tell. He wears sunglasses to hide his eyes that can rarely conceal his kakugans, he dresses in elaborate alternative fashion so no one thinks to question why he’s always wearing high heeled platform boots, ones with false bottoms inside to conceal his naturally digitigrade stance. He tells people that it’s just illness that makes his hair white, that he only looks so tall because of the boots, that he never eats anything because of allergies. It works, he even set up a donation drive for ROS research in his name to keep the lie going, and even Vivienne doesn’t question it. She’s the most dangerous person to him, having a personal vendetta against Roadkill, yet he still can’t bring himself to kill her. He wants so badly to tell her what he really is and for her to join him, but he knows she’s too far gone into CCG brainwashing to be saved yet

In all, he’s a very weird creep who is torn between the desire to save ghouls so that no other ghoul will have to suffer like he did, and wanting to slaughter everyone for causing him to be the last of his kind doomed to die in a world that he doesn’t belong in. Increasingly sick and unwell, he puts on a persona of a sweet, good humored teenager to the public to protect his human image, and a persona of a brutal, sadistic leader to protect his people as he orders others to kill and die for him. Even he isn’t sure what his plan is, he mostly does what will immediately help the ghouls in his community, follows leads of ghoul restaurants to slaughter anyone involved, or does as Arlen commands to strike at the CCG. He is in a death spiral with his surrogate mother, he and his sister cyberbully public officials together, he loves divorced dad rock, and he is a horrible little gayboy who can not be saved

[ragingbookdragon]

My Brother's Best Friend Is The One For Me

Wally West x Batsis!Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.6K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Got to rereading my Batsis fics and came across the "What A Flashy Romance" and wanted to do another one with Wally because I love him. Enjoy! -Thorne

Being the middle child and also the only girl in the Batfamily meant two things:

1. She had four brothers that treated her like a porcelain doll, despite the fact that she could throw a punch at 336 PSI.

And

2. She followed an unspoken rule that Dick and Jason’s friends were off limits when it came to dating.

In all, neither of those things were major problems. She’d learned at a young age how to avoid Dick and Jason’s overbearing-protective-brother-modes, and Tim and Damian were younger, so she didn’t have to worry about them. The second one was also avoidable—most of her older brothers’ friends were the same, and she wasn’t around most of them to develop any feelings.

Well, there was Wally, but it was just a crush. A stupid, little school-girl crush—that she’d never really grown out of—that didn’t matter in the slightest. Except whenever Dick brought him over to the house and she had to pretend that sitting next to him didn’t make her heart race like she’d run a mile.

And the most annoying thing about the whole crush is that she couldn’t tell if Wally was ever interested in her or not. Most of Dick’s friends, Garth, Kyle, Roy, they treated her like a little sister—hell, they even said “Love you lil sis!” to her regularly. And yet, Wally didn’t. Now, there was the occasional head pat, but even that was an affectionate gesture that siblings and SO’s did all the time. It was infuriating, and so was Wally—but she was going to sort it all out the next time he came over because the worst thing he could say was “No”, and either she needed to hear that…or “Yes”.

***

Normal Sundays for the Wayne household usually meant Ultimate Waffle Breakfast and sitting on your ass all day until patrol—it was the one day of the week where they could do anything and nothing and didn’t have to stick to schedules. Everyone loved Sundays, especially (Y/N), because it meant that all of her family was home, even Jason (who tried to deny that he enjoyed coming home to hang out, but if that mile long grin was any help, he was lying). And while everyone was home, that usually meant that everybody’s friends were coming over too.

***

She swiped the syrup out of Jason’s hand when he swung it back around, grinning at him when he glared at her.

“I was gonna use that, (Y/N),” he griped, and she shrugged, uncapping the bottle.

She tipped it over and watched the syrup lazily pour out of the container onto her waffles.

“You were taking too long.” Her eyes twinkled with humor. “I guess you were as…slow as molasses.”

While most of the table groaned at her terrible joke, Dick snorted into his milk, causing it to splatter on his plate and across the table.

“Nice one,” he coughed, wiping his face and the dark oak surface.

(Y/N) bowed dramatically. “Well, I did learn from the best.” When Dick’s face lit up, she turned to Alfred and smiled. “Alfie, thank you for teaching me your ways.”

The old butler merely tipped his head, a hidden smile crossing his lips at the way the eldest son’s jaw went slack. She turned her attention to Bruce who was quietly chewing, eyes following along the research paper she’d asked him to check out.

“Dad, what’s on your agenda for today?”

He swallowed and flicked a line out with a red pen, etching his own comment in the margin. “Lucius has a few ideas about some new gadgets he wanted to run by me.” Another line went out. “I’ll call him after breakfast.” Bruce looked at her. “You?”

(Y/N) nodded at the paper in his hands, then slapped Jason’s who was reaching over to take a piece of bacon from her plate. “Waiting for you to finish tearing me a new one so I can redo the paper.” She cut into the waffle with the side of her fork. “Once I salvage what little scientific dignity you’ve left me with, I’ll probably laze around.”

“You mean what you do normally?” Bruce quipped, grinning when she glowered at him; his eyes went back to her paper. “You’re doing well so far.”

She huffed. “Tell that to every red line you’ve marked out in that paragraph.”

He flashed the paper. “I’m writing in the margins how to change it. This isn’t a dissertation, sweetheart. You’re allowed to make mistakes. We all do.”

(Y/N) grumbled as her cheeks warmed and she went back to her plate as the conversation flowed around her.

Most of it was the discussion of what everyone was planning on doing, Damian was going to play video games, Tim was going to join him (which she knew was going to be fun while the moment lasted until the petty sibling rivalry got in the way and their gaming dwindled into a physical fight that she and probably Dick were going to have to break up), Jason was going to use the workbench in the cave to upgrade some gear, and Dick apparently,

“Wally and Garth are gonna come over later and hang out.”

She paused, mid-stab of her fork and looked at up. “Wally’s coming over?”

He nodded. “And Garth. We were gonna go to the mall and get some new clothes.”

Jason snorted, laying an arm over the backs of Tim and (Y/N)’s chairs. “Spending money with daddy’s credit card, Dickie?”

Dick smirked. “Just like you.” Jason merely matched his grin, and while the entire table was cracking up at Bruce’s frown, (Y/N) was silent, heart beating faster at the thought of seeing Wally.

“(Y/N)?” She startled and looked up at Dick.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you were okay. You got quiet all of the sudden.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Yeah, just thought about all of the corrections I’m gonna have to do because somebody CAN’T STOP MARKING OUT MY PARAGRAPHS.” Bruce merely smiled and knocked out another line.

It was a lie. It was the biggest lie she’d told right next to the one she told when Bruce had asked her where she was on prom night her senior year a few years ago—she was totally not saving a different sector of the universe with Kyle Rayner, she was dancing with Sam Reilly all night—she strongly believed her dad knew the truth—Batman knew everything.

Bruce handed the paper back to her and she groaned as she scanned the red lines on every page. It was going to take her hours to go over this.

Jason leaned over and read the title, “Cellular Division and Mutation Under Extreme Elemental Circumstances…a composition by (Y/N) Wayne.” He cocked a dark brow. “Go big or go home, huh, baby girl?”

(Y/N) hummed. “Doctor Halberd wanted us to pick challenging topics for the research paper this term.” A crooked smile crossed her lips. “I’m nothing if not ambitious about proving I’m smarter than everyone else.”

“You need another source,” Bruce murmured, sipping the steaming black coffee. “One-fourteen is good, but I’d go for one-fifteen.”

She groaned and dropped her head. “Are you kidding me? I had enough trouble gathering that many.”

“Why don’t you use Barry?” Tim piped up, mouth full of whip cream and strawberries.

“Master Timothy, we do not talk with our mouth full,” Alfred admonished, and Tim blushed.

(Y/N)’s head shot up and she stared at her brother. “That’s actually a good idea. Speedsters would make for perfect references about cellular division.” An idea popped into her head and she glanced at Dick. “And since Wally is com—”

“Nope,” Dick interrupted, pointing at her. “Wally is coming over to hang out, not to be poked and prodded to finish a paper.”

She let out a whine and turned to Bruce. “Dad, tell Dick to let me at least talk to Wally about it.”

Bruce turned his attention onto Dick. “Let your sister talk to Wally about her paper.”

“Oh, come on,” he complained and (Y/N) stood from her seat, hurrying around the table to stand behind Dick’s seat.

She draped herself over his shoulders, tucking her chin in the crook of his neck. “I promise I won’t be annoying if you let me come with you. I’ll ask two questions every thirty minutes and I’ll go do shopping on my own, so I won’t be in the way.” (Y/N) craned her neck and pulled the most pitiful puppy eyes she could. “Please?”

Dick’s eyes darted to her face and then he looked away. Just one more push.

“Please frate?” she begged and when his eyes went wide from the usage of his native tongue, she knew she’d won him over.

He deflated and let out a sigh. “Fine,” he grumbled. “You can come with us.”

(Y/N) squealed and pressed a kiss to his cheekbone, as she grabbed the paper and hurried towards the door. She halted and spun around, looking at her father.

“What do I need to be most specific about?”

“Division under elemental circumstances.”

She glowered at him. “No shit Sherlock. Specifics.”

“Molecular division under terrestrial gamma-ray flashes.”

“That’ll work,” (Y/N) nodded and exited to room.

Jason looked out the door then back to his brothers. “She’s way to excited about science sometimes.” They merely laughed.

***

She raised the red lace, cold shoulder V-neck shirt to her chest before frowning, and switching it with the full lace blue shirt with mini golden lightning bolt charms hanging off the trim. After a moment, she pulled the blue one down and sighed.

“You know, if you want to impress him, I’d wear the red shirt.”

She jumped and barely managed to suppress the scream that was coming up in her throat as she swiveled around to face her door. Jason stood in the doorway, a knowing look on his face. She could play this one of two ways: she could be truthful, or she could lie—she chose the latter.

“What do you mean?” He snorted and walked into her room, taking a seat at her desk.

“I mean if you’re trying to impress Wally, wear the shirt that’s the color of his suit, (Y/N).” She looked away and into the mirror, but she couldn’t escape the eyes boring into her back.

“Is it that obvious?” she asked quietly, and he laughed.

“That you’re head over heels for Dick’s best friend? Oh yeah. Totally.”

She sighed and sat on her bed, pulling the red top over her torso. “It’s just a crush.”

“Seems like more than a crush to me, baby girl.”

(Y/N) pulled the fabric down and looked at him. “Are you gonna tell Dick?”

Jason scoffed. “Do I look like a narc to you?”

She cocked a brow and deadpanned, “Just the other night you told dad that Damian lifted Two-Face’s wallet when he was being put in a cruiser.”

“Well, that wasn’t something important,” he countered and nodded at her. “This is.” He paused and shrugged. “Nah, I’m not gonna tell Dickhead. Play this out however you see fit, baby girl.”

(Y/N) stared at him for a moment then averted her gaze and let out a sigh; Jason huffed.

“That sounds like a heavy sigh, (Y/N). What’s wrong?”

She shrugged. “I don’t even know if Wally would be interested in me. He’s him and I’m me.”

Jason stood and walked over, kneeling in front of her. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

(Y/N) met his eyes. “Anytime he’s had a girlfriend she’s always been super strong or really outspoken.”

“And you’re not?” he quipped, causing her to huff.

“You know what I mean, Jay.”

He nodded. “Okay, so you’re not an Amazon or shoving your head up someone’s ass for a story. But you’re you.”

“And that means?”

“You’re the only daughter of the World’s Greatest Detective who’s a wicked smart science major by day and a badass vigilante by night.” He cupped her cheeks. “You are intelligent, warmhearted, talented, and absolutely beautiful.” Jason smushed her cheeks together and grinned as she giggled. “And if Wally doesn’t see any of what I just said, then he’s a damn fool and not worth your time. You hear me, baby girl?”

She nodded. “I hear you.”

Jason gave her a firm nod and let go, standing to his feet. “Now come on let’s go do your makeup.”

(Y/N) blinked. “You can do makeup?”

“Baby girl, I can do a lot of things. Now hurry up. That razor sharp eye liner and golden eyeshadow isn’t going to do itself.”

***

She waited beside Dick with a pleasant smile on her face, and despite the fluttering heartbeat in her chest, Jason’s pep talk kept running through her head and with every passing moment, she felt her confidence rising. He was right, if she told Wally and he didn’t feel the same, then it was his loss and her gain to move on and find someone else.

A black sedan pulled up at the manor and the passenger window rolled down, revealing Wally at the wheel and Garth in the passenger’s seat. Dick waved at them.

“Hey guys,” he greeted. “How was the drive over?”

“Oh, you know, we saw three carjacking’s and one armed robbery,” Garth quipped. “I assume that’s normal for Gotham though.”

“It’s a bit below average actually,” (Y/N) piped up. “Hi Garth. Hi Wally.”

Wally smiled and Garth waved in return as the two siblings started getting in the car.

“You’re coming with us, (Y/N)?” Wally questioned and she nodded.

“Do you want me to lie to you or give you the truth?”

He chuckled. “I’m always open for a good story.”

“I wanted to buy out Victoria’s Secret and piss off any boyfriends who are in hot water with their girlfriends.” The guys laughed and she admitted, “Truth though, I need one last source for a research paper.”

“Gonna find that source shopping?” Garth asked and (Y/N) caught Wally’s eyes in the rear-view mirror.

“Actually, my last source is Wally.”

They fell silent and looked at her, though the speedster’s focus was on the road.

“What are you gonna source Wally on?” The Atlantean inquired.

“My paper is over cellular mutation under distress from elemental conditions.” She smiled at Wally. “Our speedster here, is a walking subject perfect for the paper. I can only hope that he agrees to be a willing participant.”

Wally chuckled. “I’d be willing to part with a few secrets for you. Of course, I’d have to—”

“Remain anonymous.” (Y/N) winked. “I’m sure my professor would be okay with me citing ‘The Flash’ so long as I had a picture with him to back it up.”

“I like pictures,” he murmured, pulling into the parking lot.

“That’s good to know,” she replied and when he put the car in park, she took her purse and added, “So I’ll leave you boys to do your shopping and Wally, I’ll text you any questions I have.”

“You’re not gonna hang around?” Garth asked and she shook her head.

“Nah, I don’t wanna be the annoying little sister who follows her older brother and his friends around.” She smiled at them. “Besides, Dick was kind enough to let me come along. Least I can do is stay out of your way.”

(Y/N) opened the door and waved at them. “Text me when you’re ready to leave and I’ll meet you back here.”

***

Despite the initial joke that she was going to buy out the lingerie store, there was actually some truth in the statement, and she drew her fingers over one of the lace baby dolls as she looked at her phone, grinning like a dope at Wally’s response.

Well, I wouldn’t say I’d grow a second skin from how fast my cells regenerate, but I can make my body heal instantaneously. -W

Can you regenerate limbs or major organs? –(Y/I)

Major organs or useful ones? -W

(Y/N) paused at his response and thought for a moment. It was risky. Sending the text, she was thinking about was risky, but it’d sure get her point across that she was into him. With her heart hammering in her chest, she pushed send and stuck her phone in her pocket.

Whichever ones are useful to you, Wally? ;) –(Y/N)

Her phone didn’t buzz for a good minute, and Wally took less than a second to reply, so he was doing one of two things: A.) Telling Dick that his younger sister sent a flirty text, or B.) Trying to figure out how to let her down easy. (Y/N) didn’t know which one was worse. Her hip buzzed and she inhaled shakily, pulling her phone out of her pocket with one eye cracked open to see how screwed she was.

Do you have a useful one in mind, beautiful? -W

She had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from letting out the biggest gasp any human had ever made, and she nervously looked around her to make sure no one else was staring at her. She grinned as she replied to him.

Oh, I could think of one…or two or three…Why? Is there gonna be a pop quiz over this later? I’ll have you know I’m an excellent test taker. –(Y/N)

Is that so? Well, what happens if you were to fail this particular pop quiz, (Y/N)? -W

I guess you’d have to stay the night for a study session and help me make a better grade ;) –(Y/I)

As she waited for another response, someone’s hand touched the small of her back and she reacted, immediately stepping away from the offending touch to spin on them. Her eyes went wide when she saw Wally standing before her, a grin on his face, phone in his hand.

“I think an overnight study session is possible, (Y/N).”

Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly, like a fish until she finally got her brain to work and asked, “I thought you were shopping with Dick and Garth?”

He shrugged. “Told Dick you asked me an advanced question that’d be easier to answer in person than over text.” He wiggled his brows. “You know, advanced equations and scientific gibberish.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh and turned back around, trying to ignore the heat in her cheeks as she picked up one of the teddies. And when she realized what it looked like, she only felt more flustered. Crimson with baby blue trimming and was practically a shoelace.

“Well, that’sa hint if there ever was one,” Wally quipped, and she pulled the lingerie out of his line of sight.

“It was just the first one I grabbed!” she exclaimed, snapping her mouth shut when people looked over at them. Her cheeks felt like they were wildfires, and she pressed her head against the cool metal of the rack, sighing with what little relief it provided.

“You know, (Y/N),” he started softly. “If you’re not comfortable, this doesn’t have to go anywhere. I can forget this ever happened if you want me to.” (Y/N) opened her eyes and peered at him, at the concern but also the kindness in his gaze.

“I just—” she murmured and trailed off before letting out a sigh. “It’s kinda complicated.”

“Okay,” Wally nodded. “My mouth might work faster than my brain sometimes but lay it on me.”

She cracked a smile and thought back on Jason’s words. If Wally doesn’t see any of what I just said, then he’s a damn fool and not worth your time.

(Y/N) took a deep breath and looked at him, admitting, “Wally, I have…feelings for you.” His eyes widened and though she felt the sting of embarrassment, she pushed out her words. “It’s stupid, like one of those dumb childhood crushes that just sticks with you, you know?”

She averted her gaze and looked at her peep toe heels. “I just don’t wanna screw anything up because even if you don’t feel anything like I do, I don’t wanna lose you as a friend. Because I do value your friendship.” She sighed. “And Dick. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable about coming over to see him if there’s a chance you’ll have to see me too. I just—”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Wally interrupted gently, a smile growing on his face. “You’re thinking way big here, (Y/N). Bigger than you need to right now.”

She met his eyes. “Right now?” she repeated, and he reached out, taking her hand in his. His fingers felt tingly against her palm and he smiled.

“I like you, (Y/N).”

She blinked at him, practically dumbfounded. “You…you do?”

Wally nodded and confessed, “Have for a couple years, but I didn’t wanna make a move not knowing if you were interested.” His cheeks tinged pink, and he said, “But I’m glad you are. Like super glad.” (Y/N) giggled, suddenly feeling really foolish for all her worry and Wally let out a chuckle too.

She stared at him for a moment, relishing the coolness of his skin before pulling away, toying with the teddy in her other hand.

“So, about tonight…you staying over?”

Wally let out a groan and looked between her and the lingerie. “Probably, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to get away long enough to spend some time alone with you.”

(Y/N) let out a ‘pfft’ and winked. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Flash. You are the fastest man alive.”

“You’re into quickies? Good to know,” he grinned.

“Shut up,” she giggled.

[yan-yanthedere]

Unpopular Opinion Time

Okay...so I know we all hate Gabriel Agreste. That’s a given at this point. The man cannot hold a conversation with his son to save his life, he endangers practically everyone’s life (including Adrien’s) and when he reached out to his own son in an attempt to ‘comfort’ Adrien it was the most awkward exchange I ever witnessed. Even Adrien could tell the conversation was forced.

Now, I’m the type of person to love understanding character choices and why characters take the directions they choose. With Gabriel, for a brief moment, I had hope. Genuinely, I thought this was an interesting turn for Gabriel in the sense that perhaps he was recognizing that Adrien was hurt deeply enough that it was causing oblivious parenting-style Gabriel to notice. I hoped that the reach out Gabriel was attempting towards Adrien was a step in a new direction and dynamic that I kind of would like to see. I’d like to see Gabriel actually trying to be there for Adrien. I’d like to know that he actually cares about his son.

However, with the new trailer out and other information and analysis coming to the forefront, I don’t think that will ever happen. Gabriel gave a line earlier in season 4 alluding to the idea of ‘recreating the world.’ At the end of “Dearest Family” his line is, “Thanks to the all powerful forces of destruction and creation, I'll destroy this world that took you from us to build a new one, where we'll never be apart again.” We know he is attempting to bring Emilie back because the man has the same ‘stuck on you’ mentality he gave Adrien, but what if that is the thing, ‘recreating the world.’ What if it isn’t a wish?

Tikki is the Kwami of Creation. Plagg is the Kwami of Destruction. Destroy the world...recreate a better one with what you want. What if Gabriel isn’t attempting to make a wish to bring Emilie back...but attempting to destroy this world and create a new one where everything he ever wanted (Emilie being alive) was reality?

Hear me out. Gabriel acts and interacts like everything and everyone are a means to an end, including his own son. What if that is because his ultimate goal would lead to a new timeline, and therefore delete the negative effects of everything happening right now? If Gabriel is planning to recreate the world, of course his actions right now don’t matter to him. This reality is none of his concern because it isn’t the one he ‘sees’ himself in. He is thinking about the ‘perfect’ reality that he will create. One where Adrien and Emilie are both around. This reality’s Adrien is none of his concern anymore, so he treats him with a distance because perhaps he is fearful that if he grows attached, then his motivations for destroying this world will dwindle.

What if...Gabriel is detaching himself because to him...none of this matters anymore?

We saw Adrien do this already. The moment Ladybug/Marinette was gone from his side (Chat Blanc), he literally destroyed the world. His rage and anger at the separation from his loved one drove him to the breaking point where he was all that was left, and I have no doubts that in Adrien’s mind he was going after the earrings for the same reason his father was, he could ‘recreate’ a ‘perfect’ world where everything was okay, his actions were changed, and him and Ladybug/Marinette were happily together. He has several lines about this, including “Of course we're gonna fix everything! Now that you're back...” and “You know that by merging our Miraculous together, we'd be granted one wish, right? Any wish we wanted. Well, my wish would be to fix everything, so we could be in love again.” It’s the same mentality...and the same idea that the problems can be destroyed for a new world to be created.

Guys...I hate Gabriel...but if that is his logic, his actions make a lot more sense. It doesn’t justify them...but it gives logic to them...really messed up logic. 

[s-creations]

‘Thanks’ is not Enough

Amelia and Dominic have a quiet conversation.

Fandom: A Hat in Time           Rating: General Audience           Relationships/Pairings: The ConductorXDJ Grooves Warnings/Tags: Named OC, Named Characters, Discussion of Abandonment, Bad Parenting, Welcome to the Family.

Author’s Note: This is the sequel to the 'Return the Flames' story and takes place only a few months after Amos and Dominic return home. I don't think you necessarily have to read that in order to enjoy this one-shot. Just understand that Amelia is Amos' (The Conductor's) daughter.  It's a quick one-shot. But I hope you enjoy it!

Dominic wasn’t fully sure what to expect when he and Amos announced they were together. Officially together. Like, an actual couple, not just movie partners. Even with the already announced truce, it would be another level of craziness to see old rivals dating. He wasn’t afraid to admit he was shocked when, after a long pause of silence, someone from the back of the crowd shouted ‘FINALLY!’. Some congratulated the two afterwards while others gleefully cheered. Dominic was even sure he saw money exchanging hands. 

 Once they were able to break away from the excited crowd and hid away in the penguin’s dressing room, Dominic told Amos he was surprised it had all been taken so well.

 “Honestly doubted they cared…” The owl muttered back.

 “...You seemed worried.”

 “‘M not worried about them. All my owl’s are bleedin’ hearts and your penguins are loyal to a fault.”

 “Then...what’s the problem?”

 “...Amelia.”

 Dominic frowned. “Is she against this kind of relationship?”

 “What? Ah, peck no. That came out wrong. It’s more of...neither of us have been very successful in relationships. She may think I’m replacin’ her mother. Or that you might just run away.”

 The penguin laughed softly. “Do you really think, after everything we’ve been through, I would leave you?”

 “Actually, yes.” Amos let out a surprised chirp as Dominic playfully nipped at the owl’s ear. 

 “You’re an absolute peck neck, Sweetheart.”

 Amos had nothing to worry about after all. Amelia was absolutely thrilled to know her father was dating again. Pulling them both into the biggest hug she could manage from her wheelchair. 

 Dominic was instantly brought into the whirlwind of being in a family. Amelia insisted the duo would come over to her house at least once a week for dinner. The penguin learned about the babies and their everyday care that had to be done. Helping with Amelia’s care whenever he could. It was so much thrown at him that Dominic was shocked when the holiday season rolled around. 

 The studio had been closed for the week so all could celebrate with their families. Amos and Dominic staying with Amelia at her house. The penguin made a mental note that this was the first time in years he’d been with anyone for any sort of celebration. The meal had ended, the kids had been put to bed with the adults enjoying a nightcap. Sitting at the kitchen table and swapping stories. 

 All of which came to a halt when they heard a fussy baby sounding over the monitor. 

 “Oh dear,” Amelia sighed softly, starting to move her wheelchair away from the table. 

 “Don’t worry about it love, I got this.” Amos easily stood and made his way towards the bedrooms. 

 “Are you sure?”

 “Aye, you just relax. I’ll be back soon.”

 The other two watched as Amos disappeared down the hallway, the sound of the door opening and closing. Amos’ voice soon sounded over the monitor as well.

 Dominic, on his part, wasn’t sure of what to do at this point. Amelia was sweet, but the penguin wasn’t sure what to say to the young owl.

 “So…” The penguin started weakly.

 Amelia laughed softly. “It’s okay Dominic, you don’t have to be so stressed around me.”

 “Ah...well, pardon me. I’m just not sure what we could talk about.”

 This caused the owl to laugh again. “What a great place to start then… Actually, I’m glad we were able to get some time without dad.”

 “Please calm down, you’re not in trouble,” Amelia smirked as Dominic’s eyes widened, “Dad loves to hover and I wanted to thank you before I lose the chance.”

 “Thank me?”

 “Why do you sound so surprised? You helped my father when he was sick and saved his life. That alone would be enough.” Amelia fell quiet at this. Eyes traveling towards the monitor where Amos could be heard singing softly. She let out a deep sigh before giving a small smile to Dominic.

 “May I tell you something? Something that you can’t share with dad.”

 “Ah...I suppose it depends.” Dominic offered as a reply.

 “It’s nothing back, I promise… Dad’s unaware of this, but I met my mother.”

 “Really, when?”

 “When I’d just given birth and my husband had left. I was absolutely shocked and unsure at first. But she resembled the photos that dad has shown me growing up. I could always tell that he still loved her, but never wanted to remember her. Those albums were so far back in the closet.”

 “Anyway, she arrived on my doorstep and just beams at me. Saying how much she had missed me. How beautiful I looked and she was so thrilled to see her grand babies. I’ll admit, I was blinded by seeing her that I didn’t give it a second thought when I invited her in. It was all pleasant enough… Until she asked to meet my husband.”

 “I told her that he had left. To which she replied that of course he would leave as I looked too much like my father. Thankful that some of her genes were able to work their way to me so that I wasn’t ‘completely damaged’. That she knew of someone else who would be so interested in seeing me if I just… ‘fixed the negative’ aspects of myself.”

 “Oh...Darling…” Dominic reached over to take her hand. Which she gave a small squeeze back.

 “I was so appalled. How dare a person who I had never met before, made no attempt to contact me when I was growing up, tell me that I was damaged. That I wasn’t good enough. That the person who had cared for me was so wrong. I should have known the person who had walked away from my father was a horrible person. She only came into my life for the first time to tell me that the part of me that I loved was so terrible. I told her to leave and to never contact me again. She tried to call me afterwards, but I blocked her in every way I could.” 

 Amelia let out a slow breath before continuing. “I was so upset to know that my father still held feelings for this vile woman. I did all I could to make him happy. Even as my health dwindled. I just wanted to help him move on in some way.”

 “And then...you came along… Even when you two were rivals, you were all he could talk about,” Amelia beamed, “Then you two went on that crazy adventure and afterwards announced you were dating! I can’t even begin to tell you how happy I was. Just watching you two and seeing how much he just adores you. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough. For everything you’ve done.”

 Dominic couldn’t help but blush at this, smiling back. “Darling, no thanks are needed. I’m more upset that we didn’t realize this sooner.”

 “I know… I’m just happy to know that you make him happy.”

 They fell quiet when they heard Amos quietly making his way back to the kitchen. Pausing in the doorway at the scene before him. “...And what were you two up to?”

 “Nothing you need to worry about. We were just talking. But we should probably get to bed. I know the kids will be up early tomorrow and we’ll need our rest to handle them.” Amelia smiled as she made her way towards her bedroom. 

 “Will ya be fine?”

 She laughed softly. “Of course dad, I can manage on my own. Sleep well you two.”

 Amelia went to the first room, closing the door behind her. Amos sighed softly before holding  a hand out for Dominic to take, which the penguin did happily. They entered the second bedroom set up, dressing into proper sleepwear, and collapsed into the bed. Dominic immediately pulled the owl closer, Amos laying his head easily on the penguin’s chest. Both falling asleep tangled up in each other’s arms. 

 Dominic’s last thought knowing he would never hurt the bird laying in his arms. 

[emersonfreepress]

What would the ro's be like in a zombie au?

whyyyyy anon whyyy. I'm actually gonna write this in like.. slightly different terms, you'll see. any time I even briefly think of a zombie au I'm just like

I WANNA WRITE IT SO BADDD

i don't even allow myself to entertain it for very long because getting into that would be the worst thing ever for my productivity with the alpha omg 😂😂 so I'll put like the ideas that pop into my head for writing a zombie au, to work some of that creative frustration out 😆

so in this very general, absolutely noncommittal idea of mine, the main cast are older and the setting is in and around a civilian settlement led by the Emersons.

and as a refresher, i like my zombie aus to have fast zombies and fast infections ^ ^ 28 Days Later/Train to Busan style babyyyy, we the Sprinting Dead up in this bitch 😆

= = =

Gabe is, predictably, looking for what's left of his family. Following rumors of safe havens and bunkers and such. Starts the story as someone who tries to be diplomatic, if not outright pacifist, but as times get tougher and resources dwindle, he'd become one of the most cutthroat motherfuckers in the wasteland. Low-key though, low-key. People won't trust you if they know you’re capable of throwing them to a horde for strategic reasons. Like if Rick turned into Shane (for those of us familiar with early Walking Dead--idk did that happen eventually? i gave up before we even met Negan lol). The end justifies the means :) Damn, I can legit see Gabe going full evil in a zombie au omg 😂😂 i want to write it so fucking bad

Preferred weapon for zed encounters: rifle

Preferred weapon for human encounters: handgun

Faith in humanity: fucking zero

Zombie kill count: plenty; the type to kill every zombie he has spare ammo and time for

Human kill policy: When it benefits him or the people he’s looking after

Survival rating: B+; he can make it out of some pretty dire situations through sheer will to live and ruthlessness

- - -

Kile has arrived--clearly, this is the timeline they belong in. They start their journey with Gabe (and their doggo) and stick to him like glue, even reluctantly so when Gabe eventually has them join the settlement. This can only go one way, though: Kile's just too much of a wildcard for the group and hates being told what to do. (Especially now that society has fallen, wtf) They'd make their exit alone and unannounced aside from a brief head’s up to Gabe. It's slightly bittersweet, but also? They get to loot and hunt and sneak around and kill fucking zombies, all by themself. Kile is a loner, a hiker, and a hunter to begin with so they do beyond fine on their own. However, once the inevitable violent human threat comes for the settlement, Gabe is sent out to convince Kile to come out of isolation, just this once please, to be the camp’s super soldier help defend the camp.

Zed weapon: p much anything they can get their hands on, ranged or melee, blunt or sharp, w/e; improvised weapons

Human weapon: hunting knife

Faith in humanity: never had any to begin with

Zombie kill count: lol infinite?? any zed they come across is double-dead if they have the time for it

Human kill policy: at Gabe’s direction or when provoked enough/threatened

Survival rating: A-; they trust no one, live in isolation, and prioritize survival above all else. only reason it’s not higher is they would risk their life for Gabe or their furbaby and also... their own Rambo-esque antics def attracts the occasional horde lmao

- - -

Jack... this poor boy, he doesn't deserve a zombie au 😂 He's one of those people that first believes zombies are just sick people, too squeamish to keep up with TV news coverage at the onset and too upset to consider anything else. He'd hunker down at home, staying holed up even while his neighbors evacuated, and probably be discovered while the main group is looting the same place as him. When people try to tell him the real state of the world, he'd be in denial until he absolutely couldn't be anymore. idk, probably after Kile shooting a bunch of non-lethal holes thru a zombie to make a point (attracting more in the process lol).

He’d almost immediately join the medical team at the settlement and as word spreads about how easy he is to talk to, he quickly becomes the literal on-site therapist. It's a role he embraces but... idk if it's an emotional burden he can bear. He's very emotionally resilient! But he ain't a professional lol imagine a whole settlement of traumatized zombie survivors seeking you out for counseling, yikes. He also can't say no to a person in need, so instead he quietly spirals into a very private depression while continuing to help others!!

Zed weapon: Oh gosh, do I really have to?

Human weapon: ...Kindness?

Faith in humanity: Unrealistically high

Zombie kill count: Single digit

Human kill policy: Not ever, unless completely unavoidable and to defend the defenseless

Survival rating: C...? idk, that feels generous. D+. To be protected at all costs!!

- - -

Jessie also had the initial reaction of hoping zombies could be saved, but she woke up from that dream swiftly. The science-minded person that she is, esp with her interest in biology, leaves her determined to find anybody who's got the intellect, expertise, and resources to start doing actual work toward a treatment, cure, vaccine—anything. Nothing would get her to finally unabashedly embrace her love of science (and innate leadership skills!!) faster than a zombie apocalypse! In fact, it’s thanks to her that the Emerson settlement’s got a small but growing team of scientists doing as much research as humanly possible to best educate the others on the outbreak and zombie behavior. Def no zombie experimentation going on though lol. ...Not yet, at least.

Zed weapon: rifle

Human weapon: rifle

Faith in humanity: High! We’ll find a solution! Don’t give up hope!

Zombie kill count: Double digits, but less than 30

Human kill policy: Only in unavoidable self-defense or defense of others

Survival rating: B! She has experience with ranged weapons, farming and gardening skills, first aid, camping experience, and a can-do attitude with a healthy dose of realism!

- - -

Rain remains cargo as I said in the last post about this 😆 They'd be very good for keeping clothes repaired and making useful modifications in the settlement, but their life up to this point has been very sheltered and privileged. We're talking somebody with a chauffeur and a personal chef before the outbreak! They would contribute to quality of life and homemaking efforts more than anything—an overlooked aspect of these scenarios tbh! After as many months of dragging their feet as possible and being nigh impossible to track down when you need them, they eventually become involved in meal planning and even help out with medical stuff if they're asked.

Zed weapon: how do you reload this thing again?

Human weapon: switchblade or other concealable sharp-pointy

Faith in humanity: Very low

Zombie kill count: 0! Can you believe it!

Human kill policy: Well if it’s you or me, of course I’m choosing me.

Survival rating: C. Being so tiny helps them find good hiding spots and their self-preservation is high enough to keep them from unnecessary risk-taking. Plus they're very stealthy! Self-defense is a major issue though, so hiding is always their best option.

- - -

Rupan/Rohan scouts for and leads scavenging missions and is Curt's right hand on the recruitment team. The two of them together are the perfect combo of diplomacy, debate, and deception--although R is more honorable about the last one and will only deceive for strategic reasons. When they aren’t looting and recruiting, they’re doing peacekeeping inside the settlement. Most social disputes end up getting brought to them for mediation and they’re pretty dang good at making and enforcing calls. One day they’ll wake up to realize they’ve basically become a sheriff and feel the need to puke their guts up and do something, anything, to reassure themself they’re still punk 😂

Zed weapon: SMG

Human weapon: shotgun

Faith in humanity: Believes in fundamental goodness but knows better than to trust first impressions

Zombie kill count: decent, more than 40; you won’t catch them having a field day tho, they’re trying to gtfo of most zed situations

Human kill policy: Violent threats have to be taken out. And they aren’t, at all, immune to a revenge rampage either...

Survival rating: B-. Can handle themself both with humans and zeds but is vulnerable to hostage situations and truly difficult sentimental/interpersonal decisions!

- - -

Vivian/Vincent manages inventory and stock and they run it so efficiently it’s scary! They're the perfect pick: a hawk-eyed tyrant and tattletale 😂 Despite constantly butting heads with just about everyone on every imaginable thing, they quickly become an important part of the inner circle of decision-makers for the settlement at large. Terrible at stealth, jumpy, and squeamish at the sight of blood and gore, they literally never go on missions unless they're 100% needed for their expertise on a supply run. (They would deny all of these shortcomings are that big a problem, meanwhile R is definitely acting as their bodyguard lol.) When they do tag along, they're prone to becoming the damsel in distress. Seriously, it happens near every fucking time. It's like they just attract only the most improbable and perilous zombie attacks and hostage situations 😆

Zed weapon: shotgun

Human weapon: handgun

Faith in humanity: Medium; seeing people work together at the settlement helps restore it a bit

Zombie kill count: Double digits, under 25

Human kill policy: Violent threats have to be taken out. Well, no, not by me! Get one of the ruffians to do it!

Survival rating: C-. They’d be higher if they weren’t such natural zombie bait.

- - -

Heidi is running the settlement, well-organized to the degree of actually managing to bring bureaucracy to a post-zombie apocalypse settlement 😂 People are free to come and go, but getting in if you don't live there requires trading something of value (fuel, med supplies, food, etc), temporary surrender and registry of firearms and explosives, and you gotta GTFO at the time and date specified upon entry! You can stay long-term if you contribute to the community in a tangible way—and each person admitted is approved by Heidi personally. Yes, every individual. No, she has no free time. And she is not known to be lenient with rule breakers—you want rule bending, you’ll have to go to Curt for that. People kind of hate her, but it can't be denied that she runs a tight ship. She kind of throws herself into the work to avoid the harsher reality at large and hasn't left the settlement in a long time. She's out of touch with how bad things have gotten in the wastes, but she knows better than to take reports at anything less than face value--even when she's skeptical.

Zed weapon: rifle

Human weapon: handgun; dagger

Faith in humanity: Medium. It fluctuates, honestly

Zombie kill count: Double digits, less than 20

Human kill policy: Violent threats must be taken out if they can’t be reasoned with. Spare those who surrender, eradicate those who don't, keep an eye on the newbies. Not tryin’ to nurse any vendettas around here lol

Survival rating: B. She's good with a firearm, masterful at persuasion, and savvy enough to calculate risks appropriately. Also far tougher than her prim exterior and demeanor suggests!

- - -

Curt leads the recruitment and reconnaissance teams! When a new person or group shows up in the area, Curt's the one who stalks watches them, decides if they're worth approaching, and if they should be approached with an invitation, a simple acknowledgment/announcement of their presence, or an outright armed warning to leave the area. He also keeps tabs on morale and general confidence inside the settlement, alongside R. When he isn’t leading those efforts, though, he’s flirting with settlers and squirreling his way out of manual labor and other chores. He’s also secretly growing weed at his place--don’t tell Heidi or Vi ‘cause they’ll wanna yell at him and ration it UGH.

Zed weapon: SMG, explosives

Human weapon: handgun, dagger

Faith in humanity: Pft, sorry, what now?

Zombie kill count: ...way more than you’d expect

Human kill policy: I don’t start confrontations, but I sure as fuck end them.

Survival rating: A! He’s good at playing hapless idiot when it suits him to be underestimated, good with firearms, and capable of being ruthless and decisive in life or death situations! Plus he has no qualms about ditching the settlement if he decides it’s not working out for him. Just don’t tell Heidi lol

[molluskwritesfic]

Between Rivers: Chapter Seven

A Mandalorian can't show their face to anyone - with the exception of immediate family. Although they haven't known each other long, there's definitely something growing between them. But is it enough? When an ex-spy must look beneath the helmet to save Din Djarin's life, there's only one option that allows him to continue following his Creed. Marriage.

This story is also on Fanfiction.net and Ao3.

Masterlist

First Chapter - Previous Chapter - This Chapter

Chapter Seven

Noa Enti was dead.

Finally. 

Redin Deedi might be dead. Might not. To tell the truth, she didn’t care much either way, so long as her bridge to him was as charred as the corpse she’d left in place of her own. 

She didn’t like killing off her characters; she’d lost five of them in the past six months. Her pool of identity options was dwindling, and she hated being without a cover. 

Soon, she would have to come up with some new ones. 

It wouldn’t be as easy as it once had been. 

For the moment, though, she was fine with being no one. Noa Enti was dead. Nenana Orze had never set foot on Dafin III. 

No One stalked through the darkened hall, guided by the blinking security lights. Her clever planning and well placed credits had seen the power cut, and the explosives she’d smuggled in under the guise of an engineer had done their job perfectly. The extra security uniform and helmet had been easy to steal, and the others were far too busy doing damage control to notice that their ranks had grown by one. Everything had gone exactly to plan. 

There was one problem, though. 

She was hurt. 

Human variables - something that couldn’t always be planned against. There had been precious few seconds between Deedi learning about the fake explosives strapped to her chest and the detonation of the real ones embedded in the drink trolley. In the chaos of those few seconds - where everyone was scrambling to get out of the room - one of the guards had panicked.

The blaster bolt had clipped her side - just below the ribs. Mercifully, it hadn’t hit anything important, but it still hurt like hell and would pose a real issue if she didn’t get the bleeding stopped soon. 

Also, it was slowing her way down.

But other than that, everything was fine. She was struggling to keep moving, but good at faking it. The cover wasn’t elaborate enough for her liking, but the black tinted visor covering the upper half of her face and requisition blaster she carried were working well enough. 

Well… almost well enough.

She’d actually made it out of the building and was moving through the alleyways created by the auxiliary buildings surrounding the main tower - Deedi’s own little self-sufficient town within the city; the wealthy businesses and housing that the rest of the planet couldn’t afford. 

Smoke choked the air, reducing the usually well-lit streets into a greasy haze. The place was abandoned, the people all having fled the shadow of the burning building or hiding away in safe rooms built into the basements for situations like this. A droid or two bumbled by, locking up the businesses and generally doing the things their owners weren’t willing to stay out to do, but they didn’t pay her any mind. 

Slowed by her injury, she was about a minute and a half behind schedule; Deedi’s men would be reorganizing by now. Her window for a clean exit was closing fast.

Sure enough, Nenana cursed herself when three guards - real guards - came jogging around the corner of a soot-caked Colo Claw Fish dinery and a jeweler’s. 

It was too late to hide. Even in the subpar conditions, they’d already seen her. 

“Hey, you! Stop right there!”

And they knew that there was something off about her. Great.

In her condition, she needed to avoid a shoot out if she could. 

Only one thing for it.

She lifted her head, squared her shoulders, and marched straight up to them. 

“Report!” She barked impatiently in her best Huttese accent, knowing that it was the first language of many of the soldiers hired from Dafin III. She turned her helmeted face from one to another, fixing them each with an imposing glare. 

The trio wavered. She jumped on their confusion. 

“What’s the status of Sector Three? Has that section been secured yet?”

The one in the middle - the highest ranking, according to the button on his lapel - squared his shoulders. “No, ma’am. Squadrons Two and Four are converging on Sector Seven. Looters have broken through the outer barriers.”

Ah, excellent. She’d hoped something like that would happen. Although Deedi controlled the major crime gangs, his shift to higher caliber goods had left the lower niches up for grabs. The smaller underground gangs would be moving in to see what they could get. 

A great cover for her, should the resolution to her current problem require the corpses of the three guards.

She heaved a frustrated sigh. “Get on the comm and divert Squad Four to Sector Three. Those cargo entrances are wide open.”

He immediately moved to do as she said, but hesitated when one of his companions, a green twi’lek man, spoke up. “With all due respect, ma’am, why not call in the order yourself?”

Shit. 

“You don’t get to fucking talk to me that way!” She snarled, hoping a threat from a supposed-superior would blot out any doubts he had running through his head. “Do as you’re told, or I’ll have you strung up and shot.”

“Ma’am, you’re bleeding,” the third guard, a human female, pointed out. “There hasn’t been any shooting in this Sector yet.”

Fuck.

“That’s right,” the first man who she’d almost fooled finally caught on. He stepped forward menacingly, his hand going to the blaster at his hip. She held her ground. “Unless you’ve been through Sector Seven already, eh?”

This was exactly why she hated not having an elaborate cover. She would have created one in advance, but she’d already made one for when she’d had to pose as an engineer, and she hated creating more than one new person per mission. A single anomaly in a database would be overlooked, but two? 

“I was patrolling Sector Seven when the first looters pushed through,” she growled. “I was hit and fell back. I was on my way to the medical wing, but got fucking distracted when I saw that those exits are wide open. The main building should be on lockdown! Do you know how much the droids in the cargo bay are worth? A lot more than you’ll ever see, you can believe that. When the Commander finds out that…”

A flash of silver flickered around the corner of the jeweler’s, dim in the smoky light. Nenana was cut off by the flash and whine of three blaster bolts. 

The guards slumped to the ground. Dead. The Mandalorian loomed behind them, silent as a ghost with a rucksack bag slung over his shoulder, blaster still half-raised. 

Unexpected, sure, but she couldn’t say she was disappointed to see him.

Nenana let her posture slump, tearing off her black helmet and clamping her hand to the wound on her side. Blood oozed between her fingers from where they pressed into the soaked fabric. 

“Just can't get enough of me, eh?”

The Mandalorian lifted one of his shoulders in a half-shrug. “I thought you might need help.”

“I had it under control,” she defended lightly, sliding back into her native accent now that she had no reason to do otherwise. And anyway, it felt like the right one to use with him.

His head tipped forward slightly. “Looked like it.”

A smile twitched on her lips at his dry humor. “It would’ve all been fine, but this…” She lifted her hand to show him her bloody palm. “...was slowing me down.”

“That looks bad.” He holstered his blaster and moved to her side, indicating her injury with his head. “You okay?”

Nenana shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”

“Here.” Mando dug into the bag he carried, coming away with a thick gauze patch and peeling off the plastic covering the adhesive side.  “This is bacta-infused, but it’ll still need to be cleaned and bandaged properly.”

“Oh, bacta-infused,” she quipped goodnaturedly as she picked the sopping fabric away from the wound. “What did I do to earn such quality care?”

He shrugged. “You overpaid.”

Nenana huffed a laugh and pulled up the hem of her uniform, exposing just enough of her blood-slicked hip for the Mandalorian to press the bandage firmly in place over the weeping gash. 

She gritted through the pain. “Thanks, Mando.”

Mando dipped his head in acknowledgement, smoothing down the edges of the bandage before tugging her shirt back down to cover it. 

Nenana sighed and straightened up. “We need to move. They’ll be focused on Sector Seven, but they won’t leave this section undefended for long.”

“Agreed.” Mando adjusted the bag on his shoulder, visor glinting in the half-light as he cast a quick glance about the empty street before fixing back on her. “My ship, or somewhere else?”

Nenana chuckled breathlessly, leading the way around the corner while Mando followed, blaster drawn and on guard. “I know I promised you a date, Mando, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

He stiffened, having caught the suggestive undertone behind her words.

“That... that’s not what I...” he stuttered, making her grin. His helmet jerked to her, but when he saw her smirk he looked away sheepishly, shoulders rolling loose with acceptance. “Yeah, okay.”

She barked out a soft laugh. “Yours.”

Nenana wasn’t sure what to make of the Mandalorian. When he’d first appeared on her homestead, she’d been impressed with his steadfast composure in the face of the olfdo, and then again with his quiet good manners and helpfulness as he worked in her kitchen. 

She hadn’t been lying before when she said that she liked him; it was something that she’d readily admit. But now that he’d made it clear that he was interested in something more than a business arrangement and thoroughly charmed her with his gruff awkwardness… she wasn’t sure what to think.

And that uncertainty had nothing to do with him. It had been a long time since Nenana had even considered what he had insinuated… something more. For her entire adult life, she’d thought of relationships as an end to a means; getting close enough to the right person to overhear the right sentence or to plant the right suggestion in the right ear. 

That, she knew how to do. But doing it for real - because she meant it; because she wanted to…

Nenana wasn’t sure she could leave her old mentality behind enough to manage it.

But that was why she’d been doing all this, right? Putting her life on the line again even after she’d gotten out of the service. Tying up all her loose ends so she could leave her past behind; so that she could have an After. 

In the hull of the Mandalorian’s ship, deep in hyperspace, she watched as the warrior, clad in dirty, battered armor cleaned and dressed her wound. His hands were large and strong, worn by blasters and combat, and yet his touch was careful and feather-light. 

Yes, she liked him. 

She knew he liked her.

But what came next? She couldn’t even imagine what the next step could possibly be. Sure, she’d gone through the motions before, but was struggling to work out how to apply them to the man before her. 

They couldn’t exactly go out to dinner.

How did you go on a date with a Mandalorian? Hell, how did someone go on a date with her?

She was at a complete loss. 

He probably didn’t have a clue, either.

Maybe it didn’t matter that they didn’t know.

As Nenana watched him work, his helmet bowed close to her shoulder as he focused on getting the bandage just right, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe this is what the start of the After she’d been wanting looked like. 

Whether it was or wasn’t, it was worth the effort of finding out.

~0~0~0~ .

[dorevenge]

where ignorance is bliss - chapter 3: a young fellow

SUMMARY: Obadiah is back from Washington and surprises Maria with a belated birthday trip abroad. [AO3 LINK]

CHAPTERS: 1 2 [3] 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 ☆

November 16, 1959 – Bronx, New York, Obadiah’s Apartment

“Surprise, darling! Happy belated birthday.”

The door swings open, the jangle of keys alarming me, and I run to put his engagement ring back on, tossing the dirty apron back in the hamper. I greet him at the door, with a perfect smile, the image of everything he would want from me. I put the thick folder in the back of my mind, trying not to think about the bookshelf I shoved it behind.

Obie takes me into his arms. My face barely comes up to his collarbones. It was normally a sensation I craved after a long, stressful day, but when the person holding me is the source of my stress, the effect is not the same.

He takes a step back and takes my face into his weathered hands, his cold, tired eyes peering into mine. I try to keep eye contact and return the peaceful gaze. The pressure gets to me, so I reach up and pull his head towards mine.

We haven’t kissed in three months, and it’s almost like we’ve forgotten how. At least, I had forgotten how to enjoy it. His lips feel foreign between mine, like a stranger’s. Like someone I couldn’t trust.

When we break apart, his smile is as wide as his head. “I’ll take that as you missed me,” he says. “I got something for you.” He reaches down to the paper bags he had set at his feet when he arrived. He pulls out an envelope and two small, wrapped packages.

Obie leads me to the couch in the living room and sits me down, pushing the envelope in my hands first. He sits beside me, eager for me to open my gifts.

“Already? I didn’t even get to ask you how your flight was yet.” The envelope felt heavy with unknowing in my hands.

“My flight was uneventful. Please…” He gestures impatiently towards the gift in my lap.

I open the envelope gently. Inside, is a simple card, lilac with the words “Happy Birthday” written in a cursive script on the wrong. From within the card, two tickets fall into my lap.

“We’re going to Monaco?”

“Surprise again! I thought it would be a nice break from New York, get away before the holidays. And I feel terrible for leaving you alone for so long right after our engagement. From here on out, I will be an attentive partner to you.” His joy is so thickly spread across his face, it’s all I can do to smile in return and stare down at the tickets in my hands.

“Thank you, Obie, I-”

“You hate it.”

“No, love, I love it, and I love you,” I’m fumbling for my words, and I hope he doesn’t notice. “I’m just tired. It’s hard sleeping alone, and I’m still surprised that you’re here, let alone going taking a trip with you… Tomorrow?” I read the date on the tickets.

“Why wait? Then we can be back in time for Thanksgiving with your parents.” He kisses me on the forehead, content with my reaction, and stands. “I’m going to unpack my clothes from DC, then start repacking.”

-

November 20, 1959 – Monaco, France, The Hellfire Club

Obadiah was not a betting man, but he seemed at home at the Hellfire Club & Casino like a Protestant in church. He “enjoyed the company of the machines that controlled men’s fates,” but I imagine he enjoyed thinking he had more willpower than the men who squandered their paychecks and had to return home to their wives with their head between their tails, lying about the state of their finances.

It turns out he had business in Monaco, and surprising me with a late birthday trip seemed easier than leaving me for work again. I was left to my own devices again, but this time it was in a foreign country. I had studied abroad in France my junior year of college, so it wasn’t like I couldn’t talk to anyone here, but rather I have no desire to even leave the room.

Obie would meet me back at the hotel room at night, and we would often play a game of chess before bed. Playing chess with him was one of the best ways to pass the time. It keeps him quiet from rambling on about things I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about, details about materials and manufacturing and marketing. I did the accounting for Stane International, as that’s what I had studied in school, and as long as the numbers added up, I was content. And for every chess game I won, Obie paid me what we had bet, fueling my addiction to the finer things in life. I purchased more purses and linens and dresses and shoes than I would care to admit, but as long as the numbers added up – and as long as I hid the packages at Peggy’s – he didn’t complain.

The Hellfire Club is unusually classy for Obie’s taste; I’ve already started to resent his cheapness and penny-pinching, and we hadn’t even set a wedding date yet. I should have noticed that sooner. Here, gold decorates every pillar and billiard ball, marble fountains and silver pens, a gratuitous buffet and generous décor around every corner. Whoever the owner is has taste and luxury in excess. I am a girl with champagne taste engaged to a cheapskate.

Obadiah had spent the last four days in meetings from sunrise to sunset, and I am bored out of my mind. I have no interest in day-drinking, I’ve already read every book the front desk has to offer, and the pictures playing down the block don’t spark my curiosity. I feel like a tiger pacing its cage in a zoo, and I am ready to pounce.

Touching up my red lip and pinned curls, I leave the room and exit the elevator. I feel the turn of men’s heads like a gravitational pull, the clack of my heels leading the charge, and I’m embarrassed to admit how much I miss that attention. I know how this dress fits, I know how the color complements me; just because I’m an educated woman doesn’t mean I’m not a human one.

I have hours to kill before Obie will direct his attention to me again, so I stride right into the room full of betting games and tables. I pause in the doorway, taking in the sight – and cigar smoke – of men shuffling cards and chips like it means something, until I recognize one of the tables.

I had learned baccarat in my time in France, and despite never fully grasping the French language, I played their game very well. Like all of the casino’s games, the house has the edge, but my host family had taught me their tricks, and I could keep track of the location of every card once I saw it. This casino plays the punto banco style, which is where I excelled.

The first three hours, I did very well. I did so well that the waitstaff came to watch over my shoulder to assure I wasn’t cheating. I had almost doubled Obie’s entire investment portfolio, at least the one I had access to, using his information to start the hand but relying on my winnings to keep me afloat. But after three hours, I got – as I often do these days – bored. Keeping track of the calculations of the face value no longer keeps me entertained. So I start losing. Maximum bets net maximum losses.

I don’t know why I find so much joy in draining Obie’s savings, linked to the banking information from his hotel reservation. I don’t hate the man, but I don’t think I could ever love him. He has done nothing cruel to me, nothing unjust, or even unkind – but I don’t think he loves me either. I am comfortable and convenient; I straighten his ties and predict his chess moves and shake the hands of men he so desperately wants to impress. When you come from money, you learn to smell desperation a mile away, and Obadiah reeks of it. Every privileged man he meets can smell it, too, and until he can mask it, Stane International won’t become that international.

He’s just so boring. He fixates on the most minute details of his plans, his inventions take priority, and I think if I hurt him here, he would finally pay more attention to me than his baubles.

The chip pile, once mountainous, dwindles, replenishing when I transfer more funds, then drain once again. The staff look at me puzzled, wondering what happened to my blaze of glory, and I ask myself the same question as I feel myself go robotic and glassy-eyed. Twisting the probability on its head, I play the moves in the house’s favor, leaving nothing behind but a tray full of cigarette ash and empty champagne classes.

It dawns on me that this game of baccarat reflected Obie’s and my relationship. I feed his ego, his business deals, and checkbooks, and what did I have to show for it? A cheap steel ring, a prolonged engagement with no date in sight, and still living in my childhood bedroom with my parents in Southampton.

As I drain my last glass, several tall men in nice suits approach me, stern looks on their faces. I straighten in my seat.

“Ms. Carbonell?” one of them asks to confirm my identity in an American accent.

“Is there a problem?”

“You’ve attracted our attention with your gameplay. What are your intentions here at the Hellfire Club?”

I blink at the empty glass in my hand, just a hint of the red wine remaining on the bottom swirling at its base. “To win.”

“Looks like you’re not doing much of that now.”

“Winning got boring,” I shrug.

“Please come with us, Ms. Carbonell.”

“I’d rather stay here and keep losing.”

One of the men places a hand on my shoulder. “You’ll come with us now. The owner of the Roxxon Corporation would like to speak to you.” I’m suddenly on my feet.

[girlobsessed21]

My thoughts on The 100 7x02

Despite all the negativity surrounding this episode, I adored it. The main reason being I’ve fallen in love with these characters over the years and seeing something good and peaceful happen in their lives is momentous. It was a little slow and consisted mostly of world building and exposition, though I enjoyed the tranquil and reflective pace. Unfortunately, this post will be more or less the same.

Five seconds = Three months

So, Octavia arrives on the new planet that Hope later names Skyring and finds Diyoza three months later, in labour. Dioyoza falls asleep right after giving birth and Octavia feeds baby Hope with her fingers just like Bellamy did with her. I’m a sentimentalist and that was as saccharine as scenes come. Too bad Hope figured out milk doesn’t come from a pinkie.

Octavia tries to figure out how a few seconds dilated into months and Diyoza says she’s not Einstein. Usually that’s a metaphor for genius, but in this case it’s meant literal given Einstein’s theory of special relativity is at play. You can watch an explanatory video here, but in laymen’s terms it means that times slows down for an object, the closer it’s velocity gets to the speed of light.

Aunty O

The place is perfect, no threats, plenty of food, fresh water, but Octavia can’t stay. I’ve heard people say that Octavia’s actions are selfish this episode, but she never intended to stay. It wasn’t her choice, her life or her narrative.

For the last few seasons, the Blakes have had quite a rocky relationship and both had some blame in it. I get that Diyoza saved Octavia’s life, but Bellamy saved it long before that. On the ark, all they had were each other, and Octavia was Bellamy’s entire world, he didn’t have anyone else. When she threw him into the fighting pits, she gave him tips that could lead to victory because, like she said, he is her blood.

At the end of season 5, she risked her life to save him in the gorge. Even though Bellamy knew that killing her, would save their problem of going to war over Eden, he couldn’t do it. They share a bond and a connection that none of us can comprehend because we didn’t grow up in the conditions or proximity they were forced to. Yes, Bellamy abandoned her in Sanctum, but his intentions were pure.

The point is, trying to get back to him may be selfish in a way, but she was had no other choice than to become Aunty O. The surrogate aunt not related by blood. I understand her reasons for trying to get back and make amends with her brother. She didn’t know Diyoza or Hope when she arrived, but her brother was a constant nagging loose wire inside of her.

It’s clear that she learned to love both of them as time wore on. I mean who couldn’t fall in love with that adorable little thing, but Octavia is not someone you can strap down and ask to listen to reason. She’s a wild spirit who lives on the wings of the wind. I think it’s important to remember that Octavia is not the selfless, nurturing leader that Bellamy and Clarke are, she has always been somewhat selfish, obstinate and unstoppable. The ache inside never diminished as her hope dwindled and naivety grew but I’d like to think that at some point she would have chosen to stay. I would have appreciated a scene where she pointedly decided on them.

Octavia and Diyoza together as a team and a family is something I need more of. They play so well for and against each other and that cute little kid is simply the cherry on a magnificent chocolate sundae. Boy, and that letter had a tear running down my cheek. Too bad it led to the disciples discovering them. My heart broke for poor little Hope when they took her parents away. That scene was absolutely devastating. But just before they shatter us, we learn a vital piece of information, the helmets keep their memories intact. So, how did O end up back in Sanctum with amnesia?

I must nit-pick on one thing; how did Echo find the letter a hundred years later without anyone else discovering it?

And one last quick question, did the Clarke, Bellamy and Madi line mean something? Is that a little foreshadowing? Fan service in my opinion but I’d love to hear yours.

Un?Welcome to Skyring

Hope’s personality springs into full throttle as soon as her memories return while Echo only cares about Bellamy’s whereabouts. We learn that the disciples took him to Bardo - the next stop on the anomaly/bridge. The same people who chased them through the woods. Oh, and they have a leader named Anders. It’s not a surprise that Hope traded Octavia for Diyoza, we all suspected that since the end of season 6.

Though the knife that Hope stabbed her with was a locator tag, she didn’t kill her. Does that mean Octavia is alive and well in Bardo? I guess so when looking at the scenes in the trailer where she wakes up in a lab.  

Hope contacted Octavia via her biometric signature which is a tool similar to the ‘tagging gun’. Each mind has its own unique code, a thumbprint if you will, that can be accessed through the anomaly stone. This doesn’t quite make sense to me. If Hope contacted O, why did she write ‘Trust Bellamy’? Because why in the world would Bellamy help her after she stabbed his sister?

Another thing that doesn’t make sense is why the prisoner didn’t attack them immediately? Why wait until Echo found out that someone else was there?  Now, I don’t like to discredit, but Tasya Teles’s acting is a little wooden throughout this episode, which could also be a result of bad directing.

I know a lot of people don’t like Echo, and while watching I thought of Hope as a personification for a lot of voices (not mine) in the fandom. I completely get it, Octavia obviously didn’t like her with valid reasons.

Now the important question, what is it about Bellamy that has otherwise sensible woman willing to die for him. My answer is, he’s willing to die for these women in return. Bellamy has a deep passion and loyalty to the people in his life, one he would gladly lay down for them.  You’re in trouble once Bellamy Blake learns that he loves you, because that love runs deep and profound, shooting roots, left, right and centre.

Back to the story, Skyring is a prison where the disciples (highly trained warriors) are sent when they don’t pull their own weight. Also their way out five years from now. But Gabriel discovers Colin Benson was from Eligius III and his mind drive might have their key. I hope Gabriel will be more than just obsessing over the anomaly this season, I mean it’s cute, but it does become a little overbearing after a while.

He notices that a weekend on Bardo relates to five years on Skyring. So, is Bardo closer to the black whole than Skyring? Because my logic tells me differently if it’s the next stop on the bridge. Not sure if the Becca’s clip meant anything more than an explanation for the time dilation, we’ll see.

I enjoyed the sweet little moment of Echo comforting and reassuring Hope. Has Echo ever been that emotional with anyone except Bellamy, maybe? I like that she’s slowly but surely tapping into her own emotions. It can’t be easy for a nameless spy.

Onto the worst part of the episode… Why the hell did Gabriel come running out looking for a pen? Seriously, where the hell would they get a pen and why did he leave the device inside. That was such a ridiculous move. Clearly not a well thought out plot point. They could have done something a lot more realistic resulting in the same scenario - they’re trapped on Skyring for the next five years.

Well, that’s my thoughts for this week, can’t wait for the next episode and especially for Bellamy’s return, not sure when that will be.

[lilacmoon83]

A Darker Curse

Also on Fanfiction.net and AO3

Chapter 34: Race to Storybrooke

"What the hell was that all about?" Cleo asked her partner.

"What do you mean? You asked me to do a job and I did," Barry replied. He definitely seemed pissed about the way things had turned out.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about...you just tried to take a hostage!" Cleo accused.

"No…I was going to try and solve another case, like the one of missing Detective Michael Bishop. No one has heard of him since he left Oregon for his trip to Maine on a tip that fugitive Neal Cassidy was living in some spot in the road in Maine," Barry explained.

"You held a gun on a man and tried to force a woman to give you what you wanted to save his life...that's not the kind of work I do," Cleo said.

"Then find a new partner. Meanwhile…I'm going to make a big arrest," he replied. She frowned.

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Emma Swan is wanted for questioning in the Cassidy case. She won't make it through that airport after I make this call to Portland police. Then maybe her mother and I can make that deal, after all," he said, with a smug smirk, as he made the call. Cleo took her phone out and dialed Emma, hoping she wasn't too late.

~*~

They arrived at the Portland airport late that afternoon and prepared to turn in the rental car. But as they were doing that, Emma's phone rang.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Emma...it's Cleo," she replied.

"What's up?" Emma asked.

"Barry is tipping off the cops that you're in Portland. You'll never get through security and on that plane without being flagged," Cleo warned. Emma sighed.

"Okay...thanks for the heads up," she said, as she hung up.

"We have a huge problem," Emma said.

"What is it, honey?" Snow asked.

"That scumbag tipped off the cops...they know I'm in Portland. I'll never make it on the plane," Emma replied.

"No…" Snow feared.

"We still have the rental though…" David said, as he looked at his wife.

"He's right...we'll just have to drive back," Snow replied, as she turned to the others.

"Go on...get back to Storybrooke as soon as possible. It might be a few days, but we'll get there," Snow said. Rumple nodded.

"By then, we'll have the barrier spell ready," he promised.

"Mom…Dad, I can drive back, but you two should go back on the plane. There is no sense in me risking your freedom too," Emma lamented.

"No way," Snow protested.

"Yeah...not a chance in hell," David agreed. Snow took her hand.

"We are in this together and you are our daughter. And anyone that tries to take you from us is going to do so at their own peril," Snow said.

"She's right...especially that scummy creep," David agreed, as he hugged her and cupped her face.

"When I had to put your mother through the wardrobe, before you were born, I didn't have a choice. Not doing so meant forfeiting your life, so we had no choice but to endure a separation," he said.

"But now...I do have a choice and I'm not going to be separated from you again," he promised. A tear slipped down her cheek and she hugged him tightly.

"I love you Daddy," she sniffed. He smiled and kissed her forehead.

"Here...this should help you get along faster," Gold said, as he handed Snow a roll of money.

"Thanks…" she said, as Belle hugged her.

"Please be careful," she pleaded.

"We will...and we'll be home as soon as we can make it there," Snow assured, as little August looked up at her.

"Princess Snow...you're not coming home with us?" he asked innocently.

"We are sweetie...but we have to take a different way and it might take us a little longer, but we'll be home soon," she promised.

"I'll miss you," he said. She smiled and kissed his cheek.

"I'll miss you too, sweetie...but we'll all be together again soon," she promised, as a cool look passed between her and Geppetto.

"Okay...you guys better go before the cops spot you. Get out of Portland and on the highway as fast as you can," Tink urged.

"We will...and we'll call you soon," Snow said, as the three Charmings got into the car and Emma sped away with her parents in the car.

~*~

Barry smirked, as he watched their car leave the airport. He knew Cleo would have tipped her off and let her do it. Slowly, he merged into traffic and followed them onto their route, unknowingly tailing them.

~*~

Regina sighed, as she held the phone to her ear.

"All right...thanks Tink. I'll gather the ingredients we need so Gold and I can work on the barrier spell as soon as you get back," Regina said, as she hung up.

"You don't look happy," Neal mentioned, as he held his son on his lap. He, Robin, and Regina were having dinner at the diner when Tink's call came in.

"They rescued August, but ran into some creep from their past in Portland. He let it slip to the cops that Emma was there, so she and her parents are driving back," Regina said.

"Dammit…" he cursed.

"The others are flying back and should be back by morning, but it might be a few days for Snow, David, and Emma," she said worriedly.

"Then we'll be ready with that barrier spell," Robin said.

"Yeah…I think cutting this town off from this world and every single other one is the best idea my dad has ever had," Neal replied.

"It's the only way. We won't ever be able to leave...but if we don't, there is no telling what else will come at us," Regina feared.

"I think it's safe to say that no one is really missing anything though. We all have our families and our loved ones here," Neal replied. Robin nodded.

"He's right...this is the right decision," he agreed. She smiled.

"Gold already has the memory potion ready for Detective Bishop," Regina said.

"Good...can't wait to be rid of him. He gets louder and louder every day," Neal replied, as Regina seemed restless still.

"They'll be okay…" Robin assured.

"I know...I just hate that they're out there and in danger. They can't get home soon enough for me," she lamented. He nodded and kissed her hair. Neal agreed, as he looked down at his son. The fear of Emma and her parents not making it home was prevalent, but he refused to go to the worst case scenario and still had hope that, in the end, good would win.

~*~

The first day on the road, they only stopped for food and fuel and alternated drivers each time. While one drove, two slept as best as possible, and they made really good time. About twenty-four hours into their forty-eight hour drive, they finally stopped and found a hotel. The halfway point was in Iowa and they found a nice motel off the interstate in Des Moines.

They rented one room with two double beds and then each took turns using the shower. Snow and David were bedded down for the night after theirs, while Emma took hers. David held her in his arms and gently pressed a kiss to her hair.

"It's going to be okay, Snow...we're halfway home and once we are, we will never have to worry about being separated again," he promised, as she turned in his arms to face him.

"I can't wait...I can honestly say I've had enough of this world," she said, as he gently caressed her beautiful face.

"I hate everything you had to go through…" he lamented.

"I'd do it again, for you and our daughter," she assured him.

"I know...I just wish things had been different. But I also know you don't regret getting to raise August," he said.

"I don't...but I wish you could have come with us too. But Cora is gone and the curse is broken. And we have our eternity back," she replied, bringing a smile to his face and he kissed her tenderly.

"Eternity," he echoed, as they settled down together, just as Emma came out of the bathroom.

"Ah...so much better," she said, as she plopped down on the other bed.

"Good night sweetie…" Snow said.

"Good night Mom. Good night Dad," she replied, as they went to sleep for the night.

~*~

"Look...this is a credible tip, John. We're talking about a missing detective here," Barry said in frustration into his phone.

"I understand that...but the Portland police department hasn't invited us into their investigation. I can't just step in," the man on the other end argued.

"I know he's in this little town...and I can lead you right to him. I think this town has some weird shit going on in it," Barry said. He heard his friend sigh.

"Is this about that woman you used to obsess over?" he asked.

"I'm telling you, John...she looks younger! Like as young as she was when I met her," he insisted.

"Well...they have some amazing rejuvenating face creams these days. It doesn't mean anything," John insisted.

"Maybe not...but I know something strange is happening in this town. Michael told me about weird things he encountered before he went dark. It's like a weird cult...think about it. If you don't at least investigate, you could have another Waco or something," Barry said. He heard his friend sigh.

"And you really think you have an in?"

"I've been tailing them since Oregon and I'm in Iowa now. I know you're at the Kansas City office now. If you fly up now, you can be here by morning," Barry said.

"Fine...but this better not be some wild goose chase," John replied.

"It's not...I can feel it," Barry said, as he hung up the phone and glared at the door to the room he had seen them go in.

"Whatever is going on with you, Mary Margaret...I'm going to figure it out and blow this wide open," he muttered.

~*~

The next morning, they awoke early and got on the road early, after fueling up and grabbing food on the go. They drove around the clock, switching drivers and only stopping for gas and bathroom breaks along the way. They made even better time and were on the winding back roads of Maine by almost dawn the next morning. They were all exhausted, but pushed ahead since they were so close now. Unfortunately, as the traffic dwindled, that's when Emma noticed that not all the traffic had dropped off like it should have. They were clearly being followed.

"Emma...you okay?" David asked.

"No...we're being followed," she replied, as her parents peered out the back window. There were two figures in the car, but they couldn't see faces, as it was not light enough yet.

"More outsiders in Storybrooke is exactly what we don't need," Snow fretted.

"No...but there's no keeping them out yet until we're ready to put the barrier up," Emma reasoned.

"Then we act like we don't realize they're tailing us. Once we're in a place with magic, we'll have ways of dealing with them," David said. Emma nodded. It was the best option. If they stopped and confronted them outside Storybrooke, without knowing anything, it could go really bad. They could be and probably were armed. She didn't like inviting them into Storybrooke, but she definitely felt more comfortable dealing with them in their own playground. Unfortunately, things weren't going to go their way.

~*~

"We need to get ahead of them, before they get into town," Barry urged.

"Why?" John asked.

"Because if we're on their territory, we have no idea what we're walking into. If we have them in our custody, we can better negotiate with whoever runs this place," Barry replied. John sighed.

"That's now how we do things at the FBI," he chided. Barry scoffed.

"Please…the feds do whatever they have to," he retorted and John didn't disagree.

"Hang on," he said, as he swerved and sped up alongside them, before cutting them off.

"Whoa...what the hell is this guy doing?" Emma cried, as they sped alongside them.

"Oh my God...it's Barry," Snow said in horror, as she got a look at the passenger.

"Oh crap!" Emma cried, as the driver made a sharp turn in front of them and cut them off. Emma slammed on the brakes and came dangerously close to crashing into them. The two men got out of the car and trained their weapons on them. Emma started to move for the glove box for their weapons, but one of them raised his gun on her.

"Hands up...don't move," John warned.

"Crap...what do we do? We're so close," Emma said. And they were, as they could see the town sign in the very near distance.

"We make a run for it...we've got a better chance in the woods than they do," David said, as he looked at his wife and she smiled.

"You know me well," she said, as she raised her pant leg and pulled a knife out of her ankle holster. He smirked.

"I love you," he said.

"I know," she replied.

"Uh...guys, they have guns. What are you going to do with a knife, dad?" she asked, but she watched in sheer amazement, as her father flew out of the car and caught their attention.

"HEY!" he called, as he hurled the knife at the man they didn't recognize and he cried out in agony, as there was suddenly a knife in his neck.

"Holy shit!" Barry cried, as David took their hands and they ran into the woods.

"STOP!" Barry called, as he followed them, but they kept running, even when he started shooting. David ducked and they all kept their heads down as much as possible, as they ran through the trees.

"Just a little further and we'll be there," Snow said, but a bullet grazed by David's head and they stalled, as Barry aimed directly at him.

"I missed him on purpose...I won't miss again, Mary Margaret," Barry warned, as they stopped. He smirked and approached.

"Now...we're going back to my car and we're going to do things my way," he said, as he gently prodded them back in the other direction.

~*~

When Regina received a call from Snow at four in the morning, she was elated to find that they would be crossing the town line in about an hour. Despite the early hour, she immediately got up and got dressed with Robin. She was determined that when her sister came home that her son would be waiting for her.

"Love…I know you want to correct this wrong, but are you sure this confrontation is a good idea?" Robin asked nervously.

"No...but I have to try. I have to try to convince Geppetto that turning him back into an adult is for the best. It's what August would want and that's what this is truly about," Regina replied, as she knocked on Geppetto's door. He was up, as she knew he would be, for he was an early riser.

"What are you doing here so early? I'm getting breakfast for my boy," Geppetto said shortly.

"Snow and David will be back very soon and I'm going to make sure my sister has her son waiting for her," Regina replied sternly.

"I will take Pinocchio to see the Princess later today," Geppetto refuted.

"No...you're going to let me turn him back into the man that he is supposed to be and then he is going back to the life he chose," Regina insisted. Geppetto opened his mouth to protest, but Pinocchio saw them and came to the door.

"Good morning, Princess Regina," he said politely.

"Good morning Pinocchio…" she answered.

"Is Princess Snow back?" he asked curiously.

"She will be very soon. Would you like to go see her?" Regina asked.

"Yes please!" he said, as he looked at Geppetto.

"We will later, my boy," he told him and the boy deflated.

"Pinocchio...how would you like it if you were able to make that decision on your own?" Regina asked.

"I would like that very much. I want to see Princess Snow," he insisted.

"Here...this magical candy will give you everything you need," she replied.

"Wait...no, you can't give him that!" Geppetto cried, but it was too late. He trusted Regina and didn't hesitate to eat the small candy. As he swallowed, there was a poof of purple magic that engulfed him and when it cleared, he stood before them again as a full grown man.

"Whoa...that was a trip," August said, as he smiled at them.

"Thanks," he said. Regina nodded.

"You're welcome," she replied.

"Pinocchio…" Geppetto said. August turned toward him sharply, but stopped suddenly, as he felt one of his trances coming on. The author's pen appeared in his hand and Regina poofed the book into her hands. He took it and went into a frenzy of writing at the table. Regina watched over his shoulder and he came out of the trance when he was finished.

"Oh God…" Regina said, as she saw what he was writing and drawing. August looked up at them.

"We have to get to the town line," he said urgently. Regina nodded and the three of them disappeared in a puff of smoke, leaving Geppetto behind.

~*~

Neal hung up the station phone, as his father and Belle arrived at the station.

"Regina says the time is now," he said, as Belle took his son from him.

"Be careful," she urged, as Rumple kissed her tenderly.

"We'll be back and this will soon all be over," he promised, as Neal unlocked Detective Bishop's cell and put the handcuffs on him.

"Where are you taking me?" Michael demanded to know.

"You're getting your wish. You're leaving town and soon, all this will be like it never happened to you," Rumple said.

"What the hell does that even mean?" he asked.

"Never mind...let's go," Neal replied, as the three of them disappeared in a puff of red smoke. Belle sighed and sat down, as she held little David in her lap.

"Don't worry sweetie...your parents will be back soon and so will your grandma Snow, your grandpa David and grandpa Rumple," she told him, as she kissed his little head.

~*~

When they got back to the car, they saw that the FBI agent was still writhing on the ground in pain, bleeding quite profusely from his wound.

"Barry...I need to get to a hospital…" he pleaded, as the man did something completely unexpected and shot him in the head. Snow cried out and covered her mouth with her hand, as she turned away, in David's arms.

"What the hell?" Emma cried in disbelief.

"He was bleeding out anyway, thanks to you," Barry said, as he looked at David.

"Oh so it's my fault you just shot a guy in the head?" David retorted.

"It makes no difference, because you're next unless she comes with me now," Barry said, motioning to Snow.

"She's not going anywhere with you. You'll have to shoot me before I let you touch her," David growled in response. Barry smirked.

"If you so wish," he said, as he pointed the gun and prepared to fire.

"No...no, please don't shoot!" Snow pleaded, as she held onto him for dear life. But he didn't listen and was about to do just that when the gun disappeared from his hand into thin air.

"What the…" he uttered, as he looked around. They did as well, wondering how that could have happened. They were still a fair distance from the town line and outside any magical reach.

"What just happened?" Emma asked.

"Oh, just a little author magic," a voice said, as they turned to find August there, with Regina and Robin.

"Auggie…" Snow said, as she choked on her words.

"Mom…" he answered with a smile, as she practically tackled him with a hug. He chuckled and hugged her back tightly.

"I missed you so much...but how?" she asked. He smiled at Regina.

"I might have slipped him a magical candy and told him if he ate it then he'd get whatever he really wanted," Regina replied, as she and Snow shared a hug.

"Thank you…" she whispered.

"He's your son and what they did was wrong. My mother hurt you enough and I couldn't stop her. But I could fix this," Regina replied.

"Glad to have you back...but what do we do with him?" Emma asked.

"You're going to explain to me what the hell is going on here," Barry demanded.

"No…I'm going to write you the ending you deserve," August replied, as his pen glowed and Barry, along with the dead agent, disappeared.

"Where did you send him?" David asked.

"I just put him back in Portland where he belongs, with the murder weapon in his hand and a dead agent at his feet. The inside of a prison cell is the only ending he gets," August replied, as Snow hugged him again. David put his arms around Snow and Emma and the four of them trekked toward town and over the town line with Robin and Regina following them.

They met Rumple and Neal there, who were with Detective Bishop.

"If you think I'm just going to forget everything I've seen in this town or that I'm going to drink whatever is in that damn vial, you're crazy! I'm not letting you poison me!" Michael ranted.

"August!" Tink called, as she ran to him and they hugged tightly.

"Oh hey...you're back. We have the memory potion, but getting him to drink it might be a problem," Neal said.

"Not anymore," August said, as he took his pen and made another quick entry. Detective Bishop disappeared and it gave them all relief.

"I returned him to Portland and wiped his memory. It will be like he never left there," August said, as they stood together at the town line.

"Then let's seal the town off, once and for all," Regina said.

"Know that if we do this...it's permanent. No one gets in, but no one gets out either," Rumple warned.

"It's for the best. I can attest that, while that world out there might seem appealing to some, it's no place for us," Snow reasoned.

"She's right...people got a taste of what it was like if this world found out about us," David agreed. Rumple gave a curt nod to Regina and she raised her hands. They cast the spell and an invisible barrier encased the town, ensuring their ultimate protection.

"Let's go home," Emma said. Snow and David hugged her between them and they started back to town. The Land Without Magic would neither be missed nor thought of again...

The final chapter will be out next Sunday!

[trying-write-fanfics]

AsheXReader price of war part 10

Catherine was able to track down the Western Church. Though still recovering, Ashe insisted he joined his professor and brother’s executor. The fog was hard to navigate through, but Ashe knew he had to do this.They had to make Lonato rebel against the church against his will or manipulate him. They had to of twisted Chrisphoer’s death in order to get Lonato to raise a rebellion. It wasn’t his fault. He would right the wrongs, and erase Lonato’s shame on his name.

“ Lord Lonato’s blood is on your hands!”

 Catherine and Byleth tried talking to Ashe after the battle, but he was mentally exhausted to form a real conversation. He found more evidence that Lord Lonato was a mere tool in something much greater, but it only left him with more questions.

 Returning to the monastery, he found Y/n returning too. She didn’t go on the mission because she had family matters to attend to on her day off. He didn’t tell her the details of the mission he was going on before she left because if she knew, she would have dropped her family matters for him. It was nice of Catherine and Byleth to let him wander back alone, it gave him time to evaluate his emotions. Yes, he helped take down the western church and avenged Lord Lonato, but it was just a small piece in a larger system he cannot let take over.

“Look at the knight returning from his mission!” Y/n called out from the arena area.

“Yeah, took all weekend.” he called out.

Y/n had a different problem. Her family matters were getting called a talentless warrior, and her father does not even know why he agreed to send his daughter to the officer’s academy. Her father thought he was saying that with care, but no one in the room felt that. She was invited back home to see what progress was made, but when her scarred shoulder was revealed her father exploded in rage. If she was strong, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt, and now someone might not even want to marry her because of her torn up body. Her mother did defend her daughter saying she could open up a clinic if she didn’t want to be a knight or go husband hunting. That didn’t help much, profiting off of the injured and the ill made her father sick to his stomach because the goddess should decide who lives and dies.Her father told her that their sister-in-law is a single male cousin who might be interested in her, but that did not brighten the mood. Y/n was disgusted and full of shame. Her mother told her father to let Y/n graduate because so much can change, they are investing in the possibility of their daughter becoming a knight, maybe even a retainer for prince Dimitri...or wife. It tore down some self-esteem for Y/n. She thought she had made a ton of progress, and she hasn’t died, but that’s not enough, she has to be better than everyone else.

“How was your mission? You look exhausted.” She asked him.

“It was a lot of labor, I’m glad to be back.” he told her. “How were your parent’s?”

“Oh they just missed me, wanted to get a bite to eat together.” she lied. “Oh but I have something for you!” she sang pulling books from her bag. “They’re some fantasy novels I know my family hasn’t touched in years. They were just lying in the house, they all have knight’s tales in them. I figured you would like ‘em.”

It was such a grand gesture.

“Thank you Y/n, but I gotta confess something.”

Her eyes lit up at the words. Maybe he was still uneasy around her and was going to tell her they can’t be friends, she’s a try hard loser, and she’s a terrible student here at the whole academy. 

“Ever since my concussion, I’ve been having a hard time reading.” he told her.

“I can read them to you!” she spat not thinking at all, but was just so happy their friendship wasn’t terminated.

“You will?”

“Yeah it’s not a problem! I’ve already read these books a million times, and my voice is charming.” She said trying to take the flirting down a notch but ended up flirting with herself!

Ashe sighed, which only worried Y/n more. 

“Will you sit on the bench with me?” he asked her.

“Yeah, of course, what’s up?”

Her heart was pounding a million miles an hour. 

“I was hiding what my mission was about. I went with Catherine and Byleth to take down the western church.” he told her. “I killed some people today, and they used Lord Lonato for something bigger that I don’t even understand yet.”

“Ashe...are you okay?”

“I don’t know. The academy is seeming to be a lot more dangerous than I thought.” he told her.

Y/n didn’t come clean about her secret. It was so much more little and pointless compared to his. She just wanted to help her friend in any way shape or form.

“We’ll have each other’s backs, I promise.” she told him. “It’s not like we’re front lines people anyway.”

“I’ve also been thinking about trying to become a wyvern rider. The professor says I have a real talent for it.” He told her.

“Oh that's pretty great, will you take me for a ride sometime?” she asked.

“You can be the first.” he said without thinking, and then realized what he told her.

 It was just so easy to slip and say something like that with her. But she didn’t push away.

“Alright that’s a promise Ashe.” she laughed.

It was just easy to talk to her. She didn’t take things the wrong way, but she also didn’t take his flirting like on a deeper level he would hope. 

 Jealous eyes watched the duo, and wanted to intervene, but decided not to for it would only make a embarrassing fool. The jealous feelings thought they were coming from a place of concern, but there was a deeper meaning that hadn’t been understood yet by the brain of the eyes.

Ashe laid in bed thinking of the western church. It twisted his stomach into knots. Who else are they capable of corrupting? Is it just the western church or a group even bigger with access to all the weakness of nobles and commoners? He worried for Y/n and her family, they’re not a major house in the kingdom, if they fell to that evil group’s will, the church would kill them all. What side would Y/n take? Would they use magic to manipulate her? He looked at the books she gifted him and felt a little relief. He did like her, and wanted to protect her from such dangers. They will have each other’s back won’t they. No doubt. He didn’t fall for her for her looks, she was gorgeous, but he didn’t fall for her first sight. It would be silly, a noble he knew nothing about other than how pretty she is. No he fell for her with everything that had happened. The time she held his hand when professor Jerizta was being a total demon ghost, their late night training sessions. He thought back at the moment she held him when he was injured. How she hummed and told him things were going to be okay. Her hand pressed against his cheek. It was too much to think about in bed, he rolled over, tossed and turned.

“What are you doing out so late?” Felix asked Y/n as she snuck out of her room.

“Why do you care? Are you the dorm police?” She asked.

“Normally I have to yell at Sylvain for this kind of behavior, but you-”

“Well if I never do this maybe you shouldn’t scold me, it’s a one time thing.” She cut him off.

“You should really leave the monastery, go and find a husband.”

“First Ingrid and now me, what the hell Felix? What is your issue?” she asked him.

“Things are looking bad here and I don’t see them getting any better anytime soon. It’s best if you don’t get caught up in all of that. You’re not one who can stand bloodshed.”

“And how do you get to judge that?”

“I’m there on the battlefield with you. Save yourself the trouble.” He told her. “I already know what your father is up to.”

“Well, I can only get better with time Felix.” She told him. “Good night.”

“Your room is the-” “I’m sleeping with the wolves tonight. They’ll devour any fears I have about the battlefield. Wouldn’t that be nice so you won’t have to spend your nights telling me and Ingrid to go find a husband!” she yelled from the stairs.

She made her way to Ashe’s door in her long nightgown and candle. She didn’t let Felix’s words haunt her, but she can only assume that Felix got a letter from her parents telling him it would be a good idea to take their daughter out on a date. She grimaced at the thought of more embarrassing letters from her parents floating around, waiting to be used as black mail. She knocked on the door a couple times, and Ashe was surprised to find her so late in the night.

“What are you doing here so late?”

“I told you I was gonna read to you.”

“This late.”

“You don’t even sleep!”

He let her in. She wasn’t wrong. He picked out a book for her to read to him. She told him once more she read that one enough times, she knows the story by heart. She set the candle on the nightstand. He laid in bed wondering where she was going to sit.

“Scoot over.” She told him, sitting right next to him in his own single person bed.

But he complied. It was awkward as first listening to her read since they were both sitting up. He noticed she was cold, so he put the blanket over both of them which only made his heart beat faster. She kept reading to him though. She would make silly voices for merchants and ogrs that came into the story. He relaxed more as the situation seemed to normal itself out. Without thinking he placed his head on her stomach, and even had his arm over her waist. When he realized what he had done, it was too late to really react. She was still enjoying reading to him and he wouldn't want to dwindle the spark she had going on. She also didn’t stop him or seemed uncomfortable. His actions did make him hyper aware of the situation. She adjusted her arm, and placed her hand on his back. It was all so much. He didn’t know if he thought of the word in his head he would be able to handle it. They were cuddling! In HIS BED. IN THE EYES OF SOTHIS. He tried staying as still as he possibly could to draw attention to himself. She smelled nice, the fabric of her nightgown was soft, it was all intoxicating, she was right there! She can’t see how he’s internally reacting to the situation! He wouldn’t be able to talk without sounding like a banshee. 

 At some point he realized she’d stopped reading. He propped himself up on his hands, removing himself off her stomach. She’d fell asleep, IN HIS BED! WITH HER ARM WRAPPED AROUND HIM! His mind raced with what to do? Does he sleep in her bed? Does he wake her up? What if she gets caught leaving his room, surely she would get in trouble. He laid back in the bed, facing her, unable to come to a conclusion. She rolled over, and her face landed in his chest. Maybe his next action was selfish, but he blew out the candle and put the book on the floor. He let Y/n sleep in his chest, because she let him use her stomach as a pillow.

 The next morning the duo woke up around the same time. Ashe jolted away from her realizing what he did, but she awoke casually.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” she yawned.

“No, no, it's fine, you were doing something nice for me.” he told her.

“How am I supposed to leave though? I’m in my pajamas, and my dorm is on the second floor.” she whined.

“I have an idea.”

 The idea was he would give her his spare academy uniform so she could go back to his dorm. If anyone asks why she was there, she would say she was stopping by early in the morning to study together before the library opened. The plan did end up succeeding. 

“Here are your clothes back good sir” she was being dramatic.

“Thanks.” he laughed.

“I should be thanking you, you really saved my ass.” she told him.

“You were just taking care of me.” he told her.

“Well, I had fun too. I haven’t read those stories in awhile.” she told him

 She also had fun? This crush was going to be the death of him.

[randomwritingsofluna]

The Monster Hunter

It’s no secret that there are monsters among us. Vampires, werewolves, zombie-like creatures that the government has yet to give an official name, reapers, and some spirits of the dead. As such, the world needs people to hunt them down to protect us all. As time has gone on, their numbers have dwindled, but they still exist and are a major problem. They walk among us, eat with us, laugh with us, and all sorts of mundane things. No one says it, but we’re all on edge around each other. Your neighbor could actually be a werewolf waiting for a full moon to kill you and your family.

Everyone is afraid, save those who aren’t suicidal or insane. Some of those people who aren’t afraid though become hunters. Some who are afraid become hunters, wanting to protect their loved ones and everyone who isn’t a monster. It’s a well-respected job, but one that no one has retired from. No one lives long enough to retire when you’re a hunter. Another thing unspoken. Though there are those like me, who never wanted to become a hunter, but got enlisted through the draft.

After the governments of the old world settled their differences after the discovery of monsters, they became one government and one nation. We had achieved world peace through a common threat, everyone wanted world peace, just not this way. And as time passed, there weren’t enough hunters, a draft was made, like the one that had existed in the U.S. before they, like the rest of the world, disbanded as a country. Once someone turned 16 they could be enlisted to become an apprentice hunter. If they weren’t needed, they had they option to leave the life behind. But some, ever got that choice and had to become hunters. That’s what happened to me.

My master was an old woman, never telling me her name, just that though she was old enough to retire, she knew that her time was coming soon. Hence why she chose to have an apprentice, I was to be her replacement. I was basically a replacement part in a machine, it was obvious to me. I would watch as she showed me how to use a stake, her gray hairs flying around as she moved and thrusted her arm. She was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, being deadly to not just monsters but to humans if she felt the want to do so.

Normally, she would take me on small hunts, maybe a vampire attacking a few people around a small town, killing some of them, but mainly injuring them. Today however would be different, today she was taking me on a large-scale hunt. I was going to destroy a nest of vampires by myself, with her helping only if she felt that it was necessary.

I had become just like her, a killing machine. Not as strong as her yet, but that’s what she was working towards. Getting me to become as strong as her to help protect the world. The old woman trained me on how to use a stake, guns, knives, swords, daggers, any and all weapons she could come up with. If I was to be a proper hunter, a forced one at that, I would need to know how to fight with anything, if I wanted to live.

As we walked towards the location of the nest, she explained to me the details. “This particular nest is run by a vampire who goes by the name of Vlad, after Vladimir the vampire. He seems to have adopted the old clichés of what we imagined vampires as. Even has his own coffin that he sleeps in. As stupid as he may sound, Vlad is extremely dangerous. He and the inhabitants of his nest have killed thousands over the past few years alone. And that’s just the ones we know about,” the old woman croaked out. As she spoke, I could see her tongue slip in between holes where teeth should’ve been. More than likely, she lost them from fights. She was strong, not invincible.

I didn’t talk on the way there, I didn’t talk much around her when we went on hunts. I always felt uneasy talking on the way there. I tried it once on my first hunt with her and when she didn’t reply as I asked a question, I found it best to just keep my mouth shut. I didn’t need to talk though, we had gone over the plan before we left. I was to sneak in while they were asleep, they’d have guards set up to watch over the nest’s grounds, they would have to go first. After they were taken care of, I would take out those asleep in their quarters. Vlad would be much easier to face alone and as such, would likely be the last.

I made quick work of the guards. Thanks to my training, I was able to take them down without any problems. The quarters in which almost everyone slept was also easy enough. The only vampire left was Vlad, and barely 10 minutes had passed. When I came upon his room, I was surprised to see children’s toys and as I opened the coffin where the final vampire slept, I saw not a man as I expected, but a child.

Vlad was just a child. He must’ve been no older than 10. This was who was causing all these deaths? And I had to kill him? It seemed so wrong. He was just a kid, did he really deserve death, even if he was one of these monsters and supposedly orchestrated the deaths of thousands?

I didn’t hear her walk up behind me, when she put her hand on my shoulder, I nearly jumped out of my skin. The stake fell out of my hand and was about to drop to the floor clattering when she caught it. She gave me a look of understanding. It seemed that this wasn’t her first time having to make such a decision.

When the old woman handed me the wooden stake, pointed to the black coffin, and waddle away in the darkness, I knew what I had to do. I closed my eyes as I plunged the stake down into Vlad’s chest. He awoke gasping for air as I struck him. Wanting to cry, I pushed harder until I felt the stake go through the rest of his tiny body. As I removed it, I saw that I struck him right in the heart. The heart that was once pulsing blood through a 10-year old boy’s body, now no longer existed. It was then that I started crying and walked out of the nest.

My master had finished setting up bundles of wood, with the intent of burning the nest to the ground. “Where’s the body?” is all she asked me, I promptly went back without a word to retrieve Vlad’s lifeless corpse. More tears streamed down my face as I picked him up and carried him out. She had gathered the rest of the bodies of the vampires, they would be one of the sources of fuel for burning the nest.

As the night and fire raged on, I finally found the courage to speak. “Does it get easier? You know, when there’s children who are monsters?” She continued staring at the fire as it burned, seemingly lost in thought or the past.

“I wish I could tell you it does. I really do,” is all she said. We didn’t speak the rest of the night. Just watched the fire of corpses burn on throughout the rest of the night until sunrise. There’s a reason a lot of hunters don’t enjoy their job, I found out that night that the children who were monsters were just one of those reasons.

[daoimean]

Pink in the Night | Chapter II: Winter Solstice: Part I

Chapter I | Chapter III | Ao3 Link

Summary: 

Fellas, is it gay to be madly in love with your gal pal? As war rages and internal demons fester, Glimmer struggles to come to terms with her feelings. 

Chapter Notes:

Yes, Etheria have a Christmas equivalent and yes, I'm writing the Christmas chapter in August

Pairings: Glimmadora (Glimmer/Adora)

Warnings: Discussions of grief

Word Count: 4,146

The first night, Glimmer was inconsolable. Consumed with a crushing, suffocating grief like nothing she's ever experienced, she clung to Adora like a lifeline, soaking her shirt with each breathless, shuddering sob. 

The second night, she declined Adora's company and cried alone in the dark.

By the third, it was as if she'd run out of tears to shed.

Then things just kind of blurred together.

Time passes weirdly these days. Winter crept up on Etheria like an ambush, and it feels like no sooner had she first felt the urge to wear a sweater did she wake up to find the Castle's surroundings blanketed in a thick layer of snow. 

If her calculations are right, it's been two months since Catra opened that portal. Two months since her mom sacrificed herself to save reality, two months since Glimmer's reality was turned upside down. It feels like it could have been yesterday. It feels like it could have been a whole lifetime ago.

For those who celebrate the Winter Solstice on this side of Etheria, Bright Moon's first snowfall marks the start of the festive season. Even into adolescence, when the magic started to wear off, the sight would still propel Glimmer's heart into a little leap of excitement, like she was a little kid all over again. Now, in the cusp of adulthood, her family dwindled even further, and last night's dream still weighing heavily on her chest, all she can think about are the preparations, the extra responsibilities, the empty seat at the celebratory dinner table where her mom should be, and she's filled with a dread that chills her to the bone. 

She's still in her pyjamas when she trudges into the kitchen, too drained to teleport herself there. Casta, as she expected, is making tea, humming some folksy song as she goes through the motions with an airy perkiness no one has any business to before 10AM. But then Casta's always been a morning person. Her mom has too. She often wonders why she never inherited the trait from either side of her family. Did her dad value his lie-ins as much as she does? 

"Morning, Glimmer!" she greets merrily. "You're up early, dear! Would you like some tea?" 

"Tea would be great. Bright Moon breakfast," says Glimmer. She remembers she has to specify now that Casta's stocked up the tea cupboard— she'd been mortified when she first got here to find Bright Moon breakfast was the only option. 

Casta fetches the tea, her continued humming filling the ensuing silence. In the somber tension hanging like a dark cloud over Bright Moon, Casta's prevailing cheeriness had been like a tiny shred of normalcy. If it wasn't for a few weeks ago, when Glimmer followed the sound of a crash to her aunt hunched and quivering over a shattered mug, tears streaming freely down her face, she might have been able to kid herself that it was fully genuine. Now, it's honestly hard to tell, and it makes their interactions feel less like the light peeking through the grim winter's sky and more like the eye of the storm. 

"It snowed last night," Casta says after a while, as if Glimmer couldn't see it for herself. 

"I saw." 

"Are you looking forward to the Solstice?" 

Glimmer pulls herself up onto one of the stools, her elbows on the island, her chin in her hands. Her mom would always lecture her for sitting like that. She gazes down into the marble, blearily, until the squiggles almost seem to wriggle and writhe before her eyes. 

"Glimmer?" 

She hadn't realised she was crying until she saw one of her tears drip onto the counter; she hastily wipes her eyes with the sleeve of her bathrobe before Casta can see. 

"Yeah, I don't know if we should...do anything this year? It just...doesn't really feel like a time to celebrate." 

"Well, it's really up to you, sweetheart." The soft earnesty in Casta's voice doesn't do much to soften the reminder that this is , indeed, entirely Glimmer's decision. "But I think everyone could use a little festive joy right now, including you. Besides…" She sets the tea in front of her, and her hand reaches out to smooth back Glimmer's hair, her thumb wiping across the dried tear track. "I don't suppose Adora has ever observed the Solstice before." 

Glimmer doesn't miss that knowing glint in her eye, and rolls her own eyes heavily in response. "Really, aunty? Now ?" 

"I'm only saying, if we hang up some sprigs of mistletoe—" 

" Castaaa !" Glimmer almost wails, swatting at Casta's hand as she feels a small blush creeping up her cheeks. She hates that the thought is almost making her reconsider, even when it lacks the same warm butterflies it might have elicited before. There's butterflies, sure, but not the kind she came to enjoy. 

"Really, Glimmer, when is the last time you girls have been able to do something fun for yourselves? Not to mention Bow and the others. Part of being a leader is knowing when to delegate, how much energy you can afford to expend before you burn yourself out." She's stroking Glimmer's hair as she talks, and Glimmer just lets her. Leader or not, she has to accept those shreds of maternal comfort where she can find them. "I'll tell you what, dear: if you choose to celebrate, just focus on that part— leave all the organising to me." 

"But you've already done so much," says Glimmer, gratitude and guilt swelling in some weird amalgamated lump in her throat, "what about Mystacor?" 

"Mortella is keeping an excellent handle on things," Casta assures her, referring to her prodigal former student who's standing in as Head Sorceress now that Casta's had to extend her stay in Bright Moon (and who Glimmer really does not trust, but that's a whole other matter), "I am sure the Guild can survive one Solstice without me." 

"Thank you." Glimmer's eyes drop back down to the counter. "I'll think about it." 

There's something she actually wanted to talk about, the reason she actually came in here in the first place— but as the question flashes across her mind, she finds herself unable to even look her aunt in the face, in case she somehow sees it behind her eyes. Casta seems happy right now. Like, actually happy. She can't risk bringing that down. She can't risk seeing Casta cry again. 

"A hearty breakfast will help you gather your thoughts together." Casta beams, ruffling Glimmer's hair. "I don't believe a leader should ever make a decision on an empty stomach!" 

"Mmm." Glimmer smiles, so forcibly it strains her cheeks. She is hungry, and she absolutely won't refuse Casta's cooking under any circumstances, but whenever she pictures herself a decision maker, the decision maker, the Queen— an empty stomach feels like the least of her problems.

For a start, in another burning question that enters her mind as she's chowing down on Casta's divine cooking, causing the sweet soybean to turn to cotton wool in her mouth— what on Etheria is she going to get Adora? 

--- 

There's one other person who might have the answers she needs. And by the time she's finished breakfast, any effort to quell the urge, convince herself this is a horrible idea (it is, but that's not going to stop her), is pretty much out the window. 

Frustration and nerves surge into adrenaline that propels her through the hallways like she's running from something— but her steps, as always, slow as she approaches the spare room, a strange anxiety pulling within her, pulling the other way. Things just start to seem a little darker the closer she gets, even though the actual lighting doesn't change, and it feels like she's wading through some metaphysical current, pushing against some foreboding energy urging her to turn back. 

She does eventually reach the doors with inexplicable difficulty, waiting for her heart rate to slow before she grants its occupant the courtesy of knocking before she enters. Teleporting, even if she did have the energy for it, just feels wrong this time for some reason. She even calls out, scanning the room in a vaguely rising panic when she doesn't get an immediate response. 

Finally, she spots Shadow Weaver by the window, a dark silhouette in the backdrop of the pale morning sky. With her back to Glimmer, she reaches for her mask where it lays aside on the window seat, reconcealing whatever it is she's hiding underneath ( my power came at a price is the closest to an answer she's willing to provide, according to Adora)— but otherwise she seems to ignore the budding queen's presence entirely. 

When temperatures dropped, Casta took it upon herself to ensure the considerably frail prisoner was adequately dressed for the impending winter— by digging out the brightest, most garish, most hideous festive sweater Glimmer has ever seen. It hangs a few sizes too big on Shadow Weaver's frame, allowing extra room for the stupid shoulder pad things she still wears underneath— and to be honest, if it was any other person, under any other circumstances, it probably would have been hilarious how ridiculous she looks. 

(Actually, nah— accounting for everything, it is still kind of funny.) 

Yet, when Glimmer joins her side, and she continues to ignore her, she finds it impossible to get the words out, the burning question on the tip of her tongue now a garbled mess refusing to string itself together into a coherent sentence. She avoids looking at the hideous woman and her hideous sweater, following her gaze to the snow-covered landscape before them. Further ahead, partially obscured by Bright Moon's towering cliffs, the Whispering Woods remains in ruins. 

Since the portal fiasco, Horde have been mercifully quiet— to a suspicious, worrying degree. When previously pressed about it, Shadow Weaver very calmly explained that the Fright Zone would need to recover from the damage the portal caused, as Hordak bides his time to plan and execute his next big move now that his main project of the past few decades has fallen apart before his eyes. It makes sense, as much as it makes sense for Shadow Weaver to be so content in her current situation, stupid sweaters and all, as she bides her own time, but it's still hard to trust a word that woman says. It's hard not to feel tense, on constant alert. 

"It's been snowing," she says dumbly, eventually, for the sheer sake of breaking the weighty silence. 

"You did not come here to make pathetic small-talk," says Shadow Weaver, instantly shutting down any further attempts to procrastinate by talking to the evil mistress of dark magic about the damn weather . "I'd have thought you would be too busy preparing for the festivities for another lesson. But that's not your reasoning either, is it?" 

Just her mentioning the lessons outloud, calling them what they are, makes Glimmer instinctively want to hush her, like someone's somehow listening, but she manages to stop herself. She can't let Shadow Weaver know she's nervous already. 

"N-no, actually." She lets out a shaky exhale, straightening her shoulders. "I, uh. I wanted to...ask you, actually, about…my dad?" 

Shadow Weaver is silent for a while.

And then: "What about him?" 

"Anything. Anything you remember." 

The sorceress is actually looking at her now, inquisitively, or at least she thinks that's what to read those blank white eyes as right now. "You'll have to be more specific." 

Glimmer already feels the frustration brewing within her. There's a reason (well, a lot of reasons) she doesn't tend to handle interrogations by herself. "Literally anything. What he looked like, sounded like, acted like, any little anecdotes—" 

Shadow Weaver looks over her for a long while, her head tilting ever so slightly to the side. It only serves to irritate Glimmer further.  "Actually," she says, "he looked very like you." 

"Okay, cool. That isn't very helpful." 

"His hair was black." 

"I knew that." 

"What do you want to know, Glimmer?" 

"I told you! Anything! " She feels her temper rising and quickly pushes it down, unclenching her fists. But the way Shadow Weaver is looking at her makes her feel like she has her on the autopsy table, cutting her open, picking her apart and analysing every piece of her— and it infuriates her to the point that she throws her hands up in irate defeat. "You know what? Fine! You win! I don't know why I expected a straight answer from you."

"A straight answer would require an actual question, Glimmer." 

"Shut up! " 

She can't stand for Shadow Weaver to see her get so worked up like this— actually, scratch that, she can't stand Shadow Weaver in general— so she turns on the heel of her fluffy slipper to leave. Her anger seems to dissipate in moments once Shadow Weaver is no longer in her sights, even when she can still feel her eyes on her back, which is something that's been happening a lot lately: whenever she does feel something strongly, it never seems to last very long. 

By the door, she hesitates. 

"Shadow Weaver?" 

"Yes?" 

Should she? 

Probably not. Definitely not. But it finds her way out her mouth before her brain can stop it. "What kind of gift do you think Adora would like?" 

Yep, bad idea. Terrible idea. 

It's also a bad idea to continue talking, and guess what she does anyway. "It's just that you know her better than I do, so I— I thought— uh, you know what, never mind, forget I asked." 

"I don't think I do."

She wasn't actually expecting a response, or at least wasn't prepared for one. Her eyes narrow. "You...don't think you what?" 

"Know her better than you do." 

Yeah, no, she's not even gonna bother asking what she means by that. She unseals the doors, still feeling very, very watched, when the woman's reverberating voice seems to freeze her in place. 

  "In Mystacor," she says, "there's a specific tradition a sorcerer follows when they like someone, so to speak. Tried and true, passed down hundreds of generations." 

  Glimmer's eyes widen, her heart dropping to the bottom of her stomach. "H-how...how do you—" 

  "Believe me, Glimmer, you would be hard pressed to find someone who doesn't." 

  It's so shocking, so mortifying , that her mind just bypasses the first four stages of grief altogether; when she sighs, it's basically the moment she lays down and accepts her own death. "What's the tradition, Shadow Weaver?" she asks flatly. 

  "They talk to them." 

  The guard in the hallway doesn't seem phased when Glimmer slams the door hard enough to send vibrations up the walls. They're probably used to that aftermath.

  --- 

  It's snowing again. It's freezing on her face, but it's weirdly kind of refreshing. 

  "Hey, Glimmer, d'you know what this is?" 

  Bow's voice rouses Glimmer from her daze, as she pulls her gaze from where it's drifted up to the sky to the lumpy, smiley-faced mound of snow Bow's throwing out both his arms to gesture at. She...thinks it's supposed to be a snowman? "I...have no idea, Bow." 

  "It's a Snow-Bow! " 

  Glimmer manages a little huff of amusement. It doesn't look like snow sculpting is among Bow's many talents, but she can at least appreciate the name. "That's great, Bow," she tells him, unfortunately without as much enthusiasm as she would like. 

  Bow, thankfully, doesn't seem phased by Glimmer's underwhelmed reaction. He's proud of his work, and that's what matters. He gives his Snow-Bow one last little pat on the head, smiling fondly, then plops down on the bench next to her. "What're you reading?" 

  "Oh, this?" she looks down at the opened book in her hands that she very much isn't reading. She was supposed to be taking a lunch break, but she thought, wrongly, that she could get a little studying in. "It's some politics and governance textbook I found in the library. I think it's meant for students, but I'm using it for. You know. Queen training." 

  "Ah." Bow nods. His brow furrows. "You sure you shouldn't be taking a break?" 

  "I kind of am, I guess. I haven't actually taken any of it in." She closes the book, setting it beside her, and lets her eyes fall on her clasped hands instead. "It's all...a /lot/."

  "I've got ya." Bow's hand has settles itself on her shoulder, where it seems to find itself a lot these days. "But that's probably even more reason to take a breather, isn't it? You're burning yourself out here, Glimmer." 

  "I haven't even done that much today." It's true, at least in her mind, but a little also feels like a lot right now. She recharged after that encounter with Shadow Weaver but she still feels sluggish and overwhelmed. She always feels sluggish and overwhelmed. "It's been two months, Bow. Mom's court can't fill in forever. I'm...going be queen soon. I'm going to be queen soon." 

  It barely feels real, no matter how often she repeats the words. Over and over like a mantra as people, themselves probably more qualified to run a queendom than she is, steer her through a transition she never thought she would have to make in the first place, at least not so soon. 

  She still slips up sometimes. She'll absentmindedly make a mental note to tell her mom something, or instinctively brace herself for the oncoming lecture when she breaks one of her rules, and then the realisation will throw her off her tracks like a punch in the gut, but it never seems to be enough for it to actually set in.

  Her mom is gone. She's going to be queen soon. Her mom is gone. 

  Maybe one day she'll face the full blow. 

  Bow is rubbing circles on her back. She leans her head on his shoulder with a weary sigh. 

   "You doing okay, Glimmer?" he asks gently. A really dumb question on the surface, but it's more of an invitation to vent than anything else. 

  "I talked to Shadow Weaver this morning," is her discerning answer, and she feels Bow's hand freeze. 

  "You— what ? Why?" 

  "I was asking her about dad." 

  "Oh…" Bow sounds deflated. "Oh, Glimmer…" 

  "Yup. And the best part is, she didn't even tell me anything. Cos of course she didn't! What did I expect ?" This sigh is much more exasperated as she fully sits up, prompting Bow to look at her properly. " You saw him in that portal world, didn't you? I'm not crazy, am I?" 

  "We all saw him, Glimmer. Me, Adora, your…" He trails off. "Why is it bothering you now, though? Did something happen, or...?"

  "No. Well, kind of, I— I had a dream about him last night." 

  "Ah." 

  "And mom." 

  Bow nods somberly. 

  "It...wasn't really a bad dream, they were just...there, and we were eating dinner, and talking." She lets her gaze drift back to the sky. A snowflake lands on her nose. "You were there too, and Adora. All of us, just...together, having a nice normal time. It's...weird, I...I've never actually been able to picture my dad in my dreams till that whole... thing , and now I know what he looked like, sounded like, acted like, or at least what he would have..." She closes her eyes, exhaling. "I don't know. I can only remember being there for a few minutes before it all started falling apart, but in those few minutes I...I had a dad, Bow. I'd always had a dad. I basically lost both my parents in one day." 

  "I'm really sorry, Glimmer," says Bow, squeezing her shoulder as an assurance he's here for her.

  "I don't want to forget him again." 

  "I know." 

  "What if he's still out there?" 

  "I…" 

  "I mean, I don't— understand how this alternate reality stuff works, but he looked the age he should be now, right? How did the universe replicate someone who no longer exists?"

  "I...don't know, Glimmer." 

  "It's...it's fine, I don't expect you to. I just...I just want my family back, Bow. I can't believe she's gone." Her voice begins to crack. She doesn't realise she's shaking until Bow's arm tightens around her, like he's trying to hold her together. 

  "Do you want a hug?" Bow asks her, and Glimmer nods wordlessly. He doesn't know what to say— who would, honestly?— but he's always reliable for hugs. 

  They hug for a while, until Glimmer's able to swallow the lump in her throat back down to the pit of her stomach. She pulls back once she's sure she's regained her composure. The wind is picking up. They should probably go back inside.

  "Thanks, Bow," she murmurs, hunching up her shoulders so she can hide her face in her scarf, shielding herself from the icy chill. "Sorry, I hate bumming you out." 

  "Don't be. You don't have to bottle things up, Glimmer. We're all here for you. Me, Adora…" He squints. "—Say, where is she, anyway? I haven't seen her since breakfast." 

  "No idea," says Glimmer, and the finality in her tone causes Bow to raise a brow, but also stops him from pressing any further. "Can we go inside? I'm getting really cold out here." 

  Bow nods and gets up, offering his hand to Glimmer as if her little outburst has rendered her unable to rise herself. She takes it anyway, and keeps it held as she teleports them back into the safe warmth of the indoors. 

  "Wow, it's really picking up out there." Bow mutters, watching the brewing blizzard they'd narrowly managed to avoid from the window, "I hope everyone's inside." 

  "Mmm." Glimmer’s looking the other way. Towards the throne room. Bow seems to realise what she's thinking. Or at least the gist of it. 

  “Look, Glimmer.” He comes behind her, laying his hand back on her shoulder. “I know it doesn’t mean much coming from me, but wherever your parents are, I know they’d both be really proud of you." 

  Glimmer smiles wanely in thanks, then looks out the window. She left the book outside. Oh well. 

  "But they'd also want you to be happy. Or at least...not...this unhappy." 

  Glimmer doesn't really respond to that. 

  “You know,” she says after a while, “I’m just realising I really don’t like snow.”

  ---

  Glimmer decides to give Casta the go-ahead with the Solstice celebrations. If there's one thing she's learned as a budding leader, it's that people cling to the stability of routine more than ever in times of uncertainty. It's not really about what she wants. 

  She thinks it'll be okay. She's thinks she's okay. Most of the time. 

  The waves of grief are brief and intense, stopping her in her tracks, stealing the air from her lungs. Sometimes they hit her at random, sometimes when she's alone, sometimes when she's not. 

  It's worse when Adora's there. She'll feel her watching. And if she makes the mistake of looking up, it's impossible to miss those two dreaded words etched across her features: I'm sorry.

  She knows from her, it's far more weighted than I'm sorry for your loss . Far more behind it than sympathy and condolences. Thinking too much about it makes her chest ache. 

  Thinking too much about Adora makes her chest ache. 

  It's obvious the others are speculating. The Horde's deafening silence leaves them without much to do but speculate. Someone's going to bring it up at some point, and she has a feeling it's coming when Adora excuses herself from the Princess Alliance meeting (which meandered into discussing differing Solstice traditions) for a bathroom break. But as they exchange looks with each other, like they're silently debating who should ask, Mermista is the last she expects to be the one to leans across the table, speaking low enough that Glimmer doesn't feel like everyone's listening (they're listening anyway, though, of course they are). 

  "Hey, things have been really weird between you and Adora lately. Did something, like, happen , or...?" 

  At the other side of the table, she can see Netossa whisper something to Spinnerella, who badly suppresses a little giggle. She understands the gist. They kind of have it right. But they also have it very, very wrong. 

  It's more complicated, she thinks, than what everyone's assuming. Too complicated for her to string into words. 

  "Look," says Mermista, suddenly looking a little guilty, "if it's too personal—" 

  What Glimmer responds with isn't really an answer, but it's enough to take everyone off-guard, Mermista herself drawing back like she's just been singed.  

  "I'm scared of losing her too." 

  Adora returns, the conversation resumes from where it was, and Glimmer sinks dejectedly into her seat, just barely able to return the nervous smile Adora casts her way. 

  She still doesn't know what gift to get her. 

[quiet-onset]

Pâro (2)

Pairing: Cap!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2,532

Tag List: @thisisbullshytt, @here-for-your-bullshit, @unknownuserhasjoined, @bees-are-more-important, @catvader1o1, @i-bitch-you-bitch, @slavsher, @thefridgeismybestie

Bucky groaned when six in the morning rolled around. He turned over in his bed and hit his alarm clock in a blind search for the snooze button. Sadly, he hit it too hard, and it broke.

He let out another loud groan while he sat up against the headboard. He had been up all night, thinking back to his fight with MODOK. He had been trying to discover his motives for attacking New York out of the blue. Not to mention, he seemed hyper-focused on Bucky alone. Bucky had let the thoughts fill his head until nearly four in the morning when sleep finally took over.

He shook his head and wiped his eyes, preparing to get ready for the day. He grabbed his phone as it lit up with a text from Bruce.

Call the team for a meeting in the morning. Think I’ve got something on this MODOK guy.

Bucky let out a sigh and called FRIDAY. “Let the team know we’ve got a briefing at ten.”

“Of course, Captain.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed for but a moment until he remembered. He was Captain now. It was still hard to get used to. He wondered how Steve did it for so long. He’d barely had the position for two months, and he was already exhausted. On the other hand, he was glad that Steve was finally getting what he deserved. His own little happily ever after.

It was an inspiration, really. Something to hope for. If Steve could have that, maybe the rest of them could eventually have it, too.

Hours later, everyone had gathered in the conference room. Thor brought everyone coffee, and Peter picked up a box of donuts on the way in. It all seemed kind of normal for a moment. Then, Bruce turned on the projector, and that damned floating head was staring at them.

Normal is overrated, right?

“This is MODOK. At least, that’s what everyone calls him.” Bruce said. “It stands for Mental Organism Designed for Only Killing.”

“Well, that’s just peachy,” Thor said sarcastically.

“He’s an experiment gone wrong from AIM.”

“Wait, AIM? Advanced Idea Mechanics? That AIM?” Tony asked.

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “You’ve heard of them?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t. They’re a branch of HYDRA. They basically design as much tech as they can in hopes of overthrowing literally every government on Earth.”

“Again,” Thor said. “Peachy.”

“Well, I can’t find any files on his real identity.” Bruce continued. “They must be destroyed or hidden with a complex encryption. We’d have to break into AIM’s headquarters.”

“Sounds like a plan, let’s go.” Peter stood up, ready to go.

“Kid, wait.” Bucky stopped him. “We can’t go in there half-cocked. This MODOK guy is ridiculously smart, and their security is probably heightened now. We need to do recon and come up with a plan.”

Peter huffed and sat back down, itching to help. “Okay, well how about we ask the civilians that were around when the attack started?”

“Good thinking, Pete.” Tony nodded.

Bucky agreed as he stood. “I want Sam, Tony, Rhodey, and Peter on recon. The aerial view should help. Everyone else, go around the city and start questioning.”

Everyone started filing out of the room as Bucky began tidying up the conference room. Bruce and Tony looked at him with amused eyes, holding back their chuckles. “You know we have people for that,” Tony told him.

“I know,” Bucky said. He looked up as he put all the trash in the donut box. “Just thought I’d help.”

“Right.” Tony drawled out. “By the way, you being on the questioning detail is purely professional, right?”

“Of course.”

“Of course,” Bruce repeated. “Because why would we want someone with military experience on the recon team?”

“Sam and Rhodey were both in the military.” Bucky pointed out with an eye roll.

“So, there’s no other reason? No pretty-girl kind of reason?” Tony asked.

Bucky was caught completely off guard. He didn’t know they knew about you; he didn’t tell them. He found no reason to tell anyone. You were just a woman he saved. A woman amongst a sea of people he had protected. Yet, you were the only one in that sea of people who he couldn’t stop thinking about. There was just something about you that kept you on his mind. He kept telling himself it was the timing, but he knew, deep down, that it was more than that.

Tony chuckled, “Bucky, I’m a genius, and Bruce has seven PhDs. It was simple deduction.”

“Plus, we saw you save her,” Bruce added.

“Look, I just think it’d be easier if I talk to her. She’s talked to me before; she’ll be comfortable talking to me again.” Bucky said defensively.

“Sure, sure,” Tony said with a smirk. “Go ahead. We got this.”

Bucky exited the room with another poignant eye roll, leaving Tony and Bruce alone. Bruce was staring at the feed of you just before Bucky saved you on a loop. Bruce wasn’t sure what was wrong with the picture. Something just didn’t sit right with him. Tony placed a hand on his shoulder, “You good?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Just..” Bruce shook his head. “She doesn’t look scared to you, does she?”

“Scared?”

“Yeah. Anyone in their right mind would be terrified at the sight of a pillar coming straight for them. But she doesn’t. She looks surprised, but not scared.”

“Everyone reacts differently, Bruce. You know that.” Tony said with an amused tone. “Besides, isn’t it time Bucky had something good in his life?”

“Yeah. You’re right. Guess I’m just overanalyzing again.”

“As usual.” Tony joked.

“Funny.” Bruce said sarcastically. “Look, I’ll get in contact with Shuri. See if she can help me hack into these AIM files.”

“You do that. And buddy, relax, alright?”

Tony didn’t wait for an answer before exiting the room, knowing that Bruce would only nod halfheartedly. And Bruce did just that, nodded to himself as he stared at the photo of you. Something just didn’t sit right with him, and he was determined to figure out what it was.

—

Bucky wasn’t sure what to expect when he pulled up to your house on his motorcycle. New York was different now. He didn’t know exactly how people lived anymore. But when he parked in a small neighborhood just outside of Hell’s Kitchen, he smiled.

Everything was so familiar. Children playing in the streets. Adults outside playing cards. It was one of those rare neighborhoods where everyone was a family. It seemed fitting for you to live there. Somewhere happy.

The kids stopped and watched as Bucky walked to the nearby apartment building. Some of the parents pulled their children back or shielded their eyes; he tried not to take that to heart. He could hear the murmurs but would never admit that they almost made him falter.

He just smiled kindly and kept moving.

Upon entering the apartment building, he walked to the elevator, repeating the number to himself, 506. He pressed the button, only to be called by the desk attendant, a teenager with bright purple hair.

“‘S broken. Stairs are to your right.” She said, not even looking up from her magazine.

He turned his head and hummed to himself. “Alright then.”

Minutes later, he stood in front of your door and raised his fist, knocking on your door. There was a commotion behind the door that had him on edge, ready to pounce. He heard voices whispering back and forth at each other. He was just about to kick in the door when a couple exited from one apartment over, clearly in the middle of a fight.

Oh, Bucky thought. Must’ve been next door.

He shrugged to himself and raised his fist to knock again, but you opened the door before he could. You looked a little disheveled, but you smiled when you saw him. “Cap.”

“Call me Bucky.”

“Bucky, right. Sorry it took so long, I dropped my coffee pot just as you knocked so—“

“It’s no problem, really.” He assured you. “Do you mind if I come in?”

“Oh, of course not. Come in.”

You stepped aside, allowing the tall man to walk past you. You led him to the living room, and he smiled. You folded your arms across your chest, turning to him sheepishly. “It’s not much. Kinda small, but it’s enough for me.”

“No, no. It’s nice.” He said, almost as if he were reminiscing. “Small, cozy. I like it.”

You fiddled with your hands, watching him take in his surroundings. He seemed a bit nervous, but you were sure that your humble abode brought him some kind of familiar comfort. You watched as he glanced at your window seat down the hall, admiring the sheer amount of books for but a second. As he turned once more, his eyes landed on the floor next to you, and, suddenly, you remembered the broken pot on the floor. “Shit, I totally forgot.”

You picked up a handheld broom and dustpan and began to sweep up the broken glass when Bucky joined you on the floor. “Here, let me.” He told you.

“Wow.” He said, noticing the new bracelet on your now brace-free wrist. “You heal fast.”

You looked down, remembering that it was no longer there. “Oh yeah. It wasn’t super serious, so it healed pretty quickly.”

“Right.” Bucky nodded.

He thought nothing of it as he swept up the last of the glass, handing it to you so you could throw it away. When you turned back around, you had a sweet smile on your lips, the kind that made Bucky’s heart skip a beat.

He was nervous, he could admit that. Back in the forties, he was much more confident in himself, so getting the girl (or girls, in some cases) was never a problem. But times were different now, and Bucky was, too. His confidence had dwindled, and he shut himself off. It was just now, looking at your smile, that made him begin to reconsider being the self-proclaimed loner.

“I’d offer you coffee but.” You looked around and huffed, gesturing to your potless coffee maker. “What about tea?”

Bucky smiled and nodded. “Tea would be great.”

He had lost his train of thought as he watched you put a kettle on. You moved around so swiftly and softly. It was mundane, but it was fascinating to him. His entire life had been nothing short of hard and rough, so having such a graceful being in front of him was astounding.

He turned on his heel and took a deep breath. Focus.

“Well, um, I’m here on official Avengers business and—“

“Official Avengers business?” You asked, a teasing smile on your lips.

He chuckled, “Yes. I, uh, I need to ask you some questions about the day of MODOK’s attack.”

“MODOK is his name? What does that stand for?”

“Mental Organism Designed Only for Killing.”

“Oh.” You said, taken aback. “Isn’t that pleasant.”

“Do you mind if I…?”

“Oh, please, ask away.”

Bucky tried his best to treat you as anybody else he would question. He had to remind himself that he couldn’t give leeway just because you’re pretty. Very pretty, in fact.

“What brought you to the area the day of the attack?”

“Work, actually. I work at an accounting firm, but I, uh, was on my lunch break. Trying this pizzeria all my coworkers were raving about, Jerry’s.” You told him. “I was on my way back to work when I saw people running in the opposite direction.”

“Then?”

“Then, MODOK threw a pillar at me, and you saved me.”

Bucky hummed as he approached the mantle. He looked at all the pictures, smiling at some of the childhood ones. You walked up behind him and sucked in a breath. “Already looking at my baby pictures, huh? I just wanna say, I was a dorky kid, but I think I’ve outgrown that.”

“They’re cute pictures.” He chuckled.

He scanned the pictures, watching as you got older in each one. Then, he came across one of you and a guy with wide smiles. You both wore Harvard sweatshirts, so he assumed it was from college. “You went to Harvard?” He asked.

When you saw the pictures, your smile faded almost instantly. “Um, yeah. That’s my best friend, George. Or, he was my best friend.”

Bucky froze, “Did he…?”

“Oh, no. No, we just... had a really bad falling out.”

Just then, kettle began to whistle loudly, interrupting your conservation. You were grateful for it; as much as you liked talking to Bucky, you hated talking about George. Your falling out had been fairly recent, so talking about it was like cutting open a healing wound.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Bucky turned as you walked back to the kitchen, clearly uncomfortable with the topic at hand.

“It’s alright.” You said. “You couldn’t have known.”

Moments later, you returned with two small mugs of tea. You handed one to Bucky carefully, reminding him that it was hot. “It’s, uh, called Country Peach. Hope you don’t mind.”

He chuckled at the name but shook his head. “It’s perfect, thanks.”

“C’mon.” You smiled, beckoning him down the hall. “Let’s sit.”

Bucky followed you to the window seat he’d noticed before. It was nice, almost like a small, plush couch fit into the window, bookshelves on either wall. His brow furrowed as he noticed the window was wide open, the fire escape just on the outside. “Wasn’t this closed when I came in?” He asked.

“Maybe.” You answered. You watched as he set the mug on the windowsill and closed it for you. Your mind wandered briefly when you saw his biceps moving under the dark green shirt he wore, but you quickly regained your senses. “The wind can blow it open sometimes.”

“That’s not safe, y’know.” He said as he secured the window as best he could. He peered out the closed window once more before sitting down.

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to find someone to fix it, but the base prices are ridiculous.” You mentioned, sitting next to him while sipping your tea.

“I could fix it.” He said nonchalantly. “Y’know, for free.”

“I can’t ask you to do that, Bucky.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” He smiled when you looked away, trying to hide your shy grin behind your mug. “Back in the day, Steve’s place had a really crappy window, so we fixed it together.”

“Steve Rogers?”

Bucky nodded, “Yeah. Plus, it could be nice. Having a side project to work on where I’m just Bucky—“

“Not Captain.”

He was surprised, how easily you understood his struggle without him even having to say it. “Exactly.”

You thought about it for a moment, then set your mug down with a playful gaze. “Under one condition.”

“Name it.” He mimicked your actions.

“I get to help.”

“You drive a hard bargain.” He joked. “But alright.”

You stuck your hand out for a deal-sealing handshake, making him chuckle. He shook it with a smile on his face, almost just like your own. “Looks like you’re my new contractor.”

“Looks like it.”

[0ldsold1ers]

coffee days and movie nights

Reaper76 week, MONDAY: we can be heroes / SEP

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17840567

Gabe’s had his eye on Jack all week.

It’s been a long one, even by his standards. He’s seen fifteen active war zones at this point in his prior service and training for the SEP, met hundreds of different squad members and buried more than half of them. His muscles are getting stronger and he’s faster, taller, better than he’s ever been before – and it’s still not enough.

The crisis isn’t getting better, the Omnics are getting smarter, and the SEP as a whole really doesn’t seem to be working too well.

There had been thirty of them originally, the best of the best, hand-picked and nominated by at least three superior officers each. Between them, there must have been a hundred medals. Each soldier was assigned a number according to alphabetical order, and the clandestine experiments had begun.

The mutations had followed pretty soon after.

Haroldson was the first to leave training. Had woken yelling in the night after a particularly gruelling forty mile run and been taken to the hospital wing. He’d never come back. Then Jones had started vomiting in the middle of dinner, blood spattered on the table. Williams’ fingernails had started to flake off on a mission in Vietnam – that had only been the start for her, rest her soul.

The numbers dwindled as the programme continued, until the government decided to simply recruit more. It wasn’t ethical, but they were at war and they weren’t winning. (Gabriel had spent an afternoon scrubbing latrines after arguing back. Nothing had happened to him yet, but the waiting was almost worse. Why should some other poor bastard go through the same?)

Adjustments were made to the dosages, more safety measures were put in place, and the numbers went up to fifty. And then up to one hundred before the higher-ups finally decided they weren’t going to be able to create an army like this. Besides, for the recruits who hadn’t died or ended up in the terminal hospital ward, the effects were beyond what was expected.

(Never mind the fact that only twenty-four out of one hundred had lived.)

The only bonus of there being so few of them now, is that Gabriel can actually get to know some of this squad – his squad, actually. Like Jack, for example.

He was a couple of years Gabe’s junior, the baby of the group, but that didn’t mean much in practice. The man had been recommended after saving six of his squad in Egypt and received a couple of medals to boot. He had courage in buckets, and a damn good head on his shoulders according to all reports.

None of those reports had mentioned how fucking handsome he was, on top of all that.

Sunny, golden hair shining over the bluest blue Gabriel had seen since he’d left the skies of California. And Gabriel is pretty straight, he should put that down in writing now, but if he was ever going to get down and dirty with another guy, he knows who his pick would be.

He just feels this strange need to get to know him, and he knows he isn’t alone in feeling like this. He’s discussed this with others in the squad, men and women – Jack Morrison is magnetic. There’s just something so unassuming and wholesome about him, hidden under boyish grins and stupid jokes. Gabriel knows there must be more layers there. He really wants to uncover them.

(That sounds a lot dirtier than he’d intended it to.)

But the two of them get to be pretty good friends pretty damn fast, and his opportunity to really get to know the farm boy comes sooner than expected.

It’s been a long, shitty day. The latest batch of injections is playing complete havoc with his immune system – one minute he’s feeling like he’s on the world’s highest caffeine burst, the next his muscles are aching so badly he can barely stand as he vomits out what feels like his last six meals.

Every member of the squad has a slightly different schedule, and for the first time, his and Jack’s have coincided. The younger man is still earlier in the programme and experiencing some of the nastier effects – his anatomy is still shifting around a lot. And when Gabriel bumps into him leaving the sick bay, looking particularly pale, it’s a deadly mix of sympathy and intrigue that prompts him to say:

“Hey, Morrison. Movie night tonight?”

And Jack sort of looks at him without really seeing, but replies, “Sure thing, commander.”

And that’s the extent of the conversation. But Gabe’s got something to look forward to now, something to keep him going through the day, and he spends ammunitions training that afternoon debating over what film to pick before having to run to the bathroom again and being sent back to his quarters by his CO.

It’s seven by the time he hears the doorbell to his quarters ring and he almost trips over himself to get to the door.

Jack’s stood there looking a little peaky but a whole lot more alive than he had earlier, and Gabriel welcomes him in.

“Nice place you got here, commander.” He jokes, looking around at the non-existent décor. The only reason they got individual quarters here were the vulnerable immune systems as a result of the SEP process. The organisers had learnt the hard way after a cold virus had wiped out six of the applicants.

“Thanks, I made it myself,” he replies as he made his way to the kitchenette, “And please, Gabe. Drink?”

“You got any juice?” Jack asks, and Gabriel laughs.

“Don’t worry about the doctors finding out, man, how about a proper drink?”

There’s a wry smile on his face as he replies, “I don’t drink alcohol.” Gabriel looks at him curiously. There’s a story there, but Jack doesn’t seem willing to share right now.

“Tea or coffee then?” He’s already decided he won’t be drinking if Jack isn’t. It’s no fun on your own.

“Coffee, thanks.” He says, dropping heavily onto the couch. “What film are we watching, then?”

Gabriel brings over two mugs, hands one to Jack and loads up his laptop. “I couldn’t decide in the end, so figured I’d give you a choice. Star Wars, or La La Land?” He feels he’s covering his bases here; he has to like either musicals or action films.

Jack snorts out the first sip he’d taken of his drink. “Bit of a choice there.”

Gabriel puts his hands on his hips. “Don’t tell me you’re too much of a man to enjoy a beautifully-shot love story with glorious musical numbers.”

Jack smiles, something mischievous there. “Fine, La La Land it is.”

Gabriel realises his mistake about twenty minutes into the film. It’s not that Jack doesn’t like musicals – completely the opposite.

“See, this is my main problem. Everyone keeps banging on about this film as a musical, but the music is incidental. True musicals use the numbers as exposition and story-telling. This is a film about music, not a musical.”

And the complaining doesn’t stop. “Why is the one black speaking role in a film about jazz the villain?” when Keith arrived. “See, this would be an actual song if it was a musical, not some cruddy dance silhouette.” when they danced in the observatory. “And she actually agreed?” when Mia got back in the car with Sebastian.

“Are you able to actually enjoy films?” Gabriel finally asks, mildly exasperated (but amused).

Jack gives him a look. “It’s not my fault you can’t pick a good musical.”

“Fine, what is a good musical?” he says challengingly, because he loves a good film debate even if musicals aren’t his first choice when he’s on his own. And he’s maybe a little bit desperate to know more about the soldier as well.

“Chicago. Cabaret. Les Misérables, but only on stage. I’m a big fan of Hamilton as well.” He says, eyes sparkling a little bit as he lists them off.

“I’ve seen Hamilton.” Gabriel volunteers, getting up to make more drinks and retrieve a blanket from the bedroom.

Jack says something he doesn’t really hear as he pulls the blanket off his bed. “What was that?” he asks as he throws the blanket in Jack’s direction.

The younger man doesn’t reply for a second, blushing a little bit. “I went with my boyfriend.”

The words have a strange effect on Gabe. Finding out Jack is gay is… interesting. It doesn’t change much really. Nothing at all. It just wasn’t expected.

He isn’t really sure how he’s supposed to react, but Jack’s watching him, worry starting to turn to anxiety and resentment, so he forces himself to spit out a reply. “Sounds like he has good taste in musicals, even if his taste in men is debatable.”

Jack laughs, and Gabriel knows he got it right. This is fine. Friendly teasing. Nothing more.

“I keep telling him he’s too good for me.” Jack admits, eyes crinkling just a little at the corners.

“What’s his name?” Gabriel asks, smiling unconsciously in the face of such love.

“Vincent,” Jack says, pulling the blanket over his legs, “He’s a journalist.”

Gabriel hands him the refilled mug and starts Star Wars quietly in the background. He’s not really intending to watch it. “You sound like you love him a lot. Why’d you leave him for this hell?” It’s only half a joke.

Jack does that weird little eyebrow twitch he does sometimes – in the future, Gabriel will understand he only does it when he’s telling a half-truth. “I have to protect him. People like him. There’s a lot of people back home...” He trails off, and Gabriel fills in the blanks. Jack seems like a family guy. Probably tons of siblings, local town, saw his small life decimated by Omnics and reality came crashing in. He’s heard the story before. He lets it go for now.

*

They’re doing an endless circuit of laps of the field when Jack falls into step beside him. Neither of them are really out of breath – they’ve only been going for half an hour so far. It’ll be a while before any of the platoon are really winded.

There’s a comfortable silence between them for a moment, but Gabriel can sense it’s going somewhere.

“Why did you join the SEP anyway, Gabe?” He asks, never breaking his gaze from the field ahead.

The green grass is erased for a moment, and Gabriel is back in the broom cupboard in his mother’s disintegrating house. He’s holding his shaking little sister against his chest and praying she won’t open the door.

He shakes his head, and it’s gone again. Back in the memory banks. He thought he’d finally banished that one. “Same as you. I got people I want to protect, Morrison.”

Jack nods thoughtfully, and Gabriel knows it’s only a temporary acceptance. That’s fine – he’s got another thing coming if he thinks he can get to Gabriel Reyes’ secrets first.

*

Jack corners him as they’re coming out of the showers later. “Movie night at mine tonight.”

Gabriel looks at him, amused. “You going to show me what good film choice is?”

Jack stares back, his look calculated. “Maybe.”

Four hours later, Gabriel stares at him, unamused. “You’re a walking cliché, boy scout.”

The iconic shield of Captain America glares out from the screen. Of fucking course it does.

Jack, for his part, does go a little red. “It’s a great film!”

Gabriel just laughs. “You’re not allowed to pick anymore.”

*

There’s a bunch of them out drinking one night – a visiting special ops squad from Egypt is here to help resolve a conflict with some rebels in Sudan, and they’ve all suffered losses. Gabriel finds himself sat next to a sniper – her name’s Ana, and she’s supposedly the best in the world. It’s not even supposedly – he’d seen the enemy dropping like flies earlier and wouldn’t have been able to tell you where the hell she was situated if he’d had half an hour to stop time and observe the battlefield.

He tells her as much, and she sniffs, a smile poking at the corners of her mouth. “Americans really are wrapped up in their own little worlds.” She’s flattered though, and happy enough for him to notice as much. There’s a quiet confidence to her which Gabriel is immediately drawn to. She knows exactly how good she is. This is the sort of person Gabriel wants watching his back.

“What made you sign up?” He asks her later, a couple of bottles of beer already put away. They’re having very little effect but to make him more confident. Jack’s wrapped up in conversation with Torres from their squad, but he catches Gabe’s eye and smiles.

“I have a daughter. Fareeha.” She smiles and retrieves a picture from a fold in her armour. There’s a grinning little girl in a summer dress smiling out at him, and Gabriel feels himself smiling in response.

“She’s lovely.” He takes another swig from his drink.

“What about you, Gabriel?” She asks, sipping her own whiskey. Alcohol isn’t commonly drunk in Egypt, but they’re making an exception tonight. Tonight, is for feeling alive after so many have died.

“I… used to have a sister.” He doesn’t make eye contact with Ana. Jack is looking at him – he’s clearly heard, but doesn’t comment, turning back to his conversation. “She died when my town was attacked by Omnics.” He doesn’t mention that the only reason she was out was Gabriel had made her run away with him.

He risks a glance, and Ana looks sympathetic but not pitying. She’s probably heard a hundred stories like his, and he’s done feeling sorry for himself. There’s a whole other world of people he has to protect now. He’ll do better this time.

They leave the bar an hour later, Ana’s number in his phone, and Gabriel finds himself falling behind. He sort of wants the solitude, but Jack falls back to walk beside him. There’s quiet for a minute before:

“I only had my dad. My mum died when I was eight, and they never had more kids. I don’t think they really wanted me in the first place.” He laughs without humour. “He was never really… there. If you know what I mean.” And Gabriel does, he understands absent parents even when the space is filled. “The Omnics came and then even he was gone, and all I had to look after was Vincent. I couldn’t lose him as well.”

Gabriel nods. Jack Morrison is beginning to make a lot more sense. No wonder they click so well. “I made my sister leave home with me. She wasn’t safe staying there, and then she died. So now I have to make it up to her memory.”

“You know that wasn’t your fault, right?” Jack asks him.

Gabriel nods. “My brain does. But I guess the rest of me doesn’t?” He laughs a little self-consciously. “I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself.”

Jack throws an arm around his shoulder and pulls him into his side. Gabriel is still a little taller, hopefully always will be, but Jack’s warm and cosy against him. His skin feels like it’s on fire, and he can’t remember the last time he peeled away this many layers for another person. They part too soon and Gabriel feels more alone than ever when he stands in the middle of his empty quarters.

*

“Movie night?” He asks as he passes Jack in the corridor, and the blond nods once with a smile before they part ways once more.

He’s got something good lined up for this evening.

Jack’s face is unreadable in his quarters that night.

Gabriel is worried he won’t like the film – how can you not? “How are we feeling about Moulin Rouge?” He asks, making the coffee without really thinking anymore. Movie nights are becoming a welcome addition to his routine.

Jack looks at him. “Can’t remember seeing it. It was my mum’s favourite.”

Gabriel panics. “Do you want me to pick something else? There’s a really bad film I think you’d love, The Room, it’s-“ He gabbles, before Jack interrupts him with a wry smile.

“It’s fine, Gabe, honestly. I just haven’t seen it in a long time.” Jack smiles at him reassuringly before stealing his mug from Gabriel’s hands and dropping onto the sofa. He slings his legs into Gabriel’s lap the second he sits down. Neither of them says anything about it.

Gabriel keeps a close eye on Jack’s face throughout the film, but he seems to enjoy it. It ends up Gabriel who cries through the last ten minutes (as he always does), and Jack shifts his position, leaning his back on Gabriel with his legs hanging off the other end of the sofa. The warm weight of his friend is so comfortable and he’d be happy to sit here for days like this.

His eyes widen – that’s not a good thought. They can’t sit here for days like this, this isn’t the way their relationship works. They have banter, they mock each other relentlessly, and sure they have each other’s backs, but they aren’t the centre of each other’s worlds. Jack already has a centre and his name is Vincent, and Gabriel doesn’t even want to be a pillar for the other man.

Or maybe he does.

He realises this as the end credits roll, and Jack’s heavy breathing as he falls asleep against Gabe make him hyper aware of the blonde’s chest rising and falling.

Gabriel Reyes is possibly not as straight as he thought he was.

He’s also possibly a little bit in love with his best friend.

Shit.

*