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malaismere · 3 years

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Campaign 3 Predictions - Compiled

So, as a fan of compiling statistics, I've been keeping track of race/class predictions for campaign 3 for the past...at least a year, from tumblr, reddit, and twitter. with EXU over, and my spreadsheet hitting 400 (?!), I figured I'd share the fandom's current predictions

Travis

Human (30), Dwarf (29), Elf, Shifter (11), Half-Elf (10)

Cleric (103), Bloodhunter (63), Wizard (50), Fighter (49), Druid (46)

Lycan bloodhunter (41), Forge cleric (26), War cleric (16), Eldritch Knight fighter, Bladesinger wizard (14)

Marisha

Elf (16), Genasi, Tiefling (14), Dwarf (13), Dragonborn (11)

Paladin (112), Rogue (53), Fighter (43), Cleric (40), Warlock (37)

Eldritch Knight fighter, Glory paladin (14), Artillerist and Armorer artificer, Battlemaster Fighter (8)

Liam

Dwarf (25), Halfling (18), Tiefling (13), Elf (12), Warforged (11)

Druid (77), Cleric (72), Bard (71), Fighter (59)

Stars druid (16), Dreams druid (10), Eloquence bard (8), Alchemist artificer, Whispers bard, Twilight cleric (7)

Sam

Dwarf (34), Kobold (24), Goliath (17), Warforged (15), Kenku (13)

Sorcerer (106), Cleric (98), Druid (63), Wizard (47)

Wild Magic sorcerer (61), Wild Soul barbarian (14), Twilight cleric (8), Life and Forge cleric, Wildfire druid, Divination wizard (7)

Laura

Elf (21), Human, Tabaxi (19), Genasi (15), Gnome, Aasimar (10)

Barbarian (75), Sorcerer (74), Bard (64), Warlock (60)

Wild Soul barbarian (14), Wild Magic sorcerer (12), Glamour bard (10), Shadow monk (9)

Taliesin

Warforged (16), Elf, Changeling (14), Gnome, Genasi, Tabaxi (8)

Sorcerer (68), Rogue (65), Warlock (55), Bard (45), Wizard (43)

Aberrant Mind sorcerer (18), Whispers bard, Phantom rogue, Soulknife rogue (11), Mastermind rogue, Clockwork sorcerer (9)

Ashley

Elf (26), Human (18), Tiefling (17), Half-Elf (12), Dwarf (11)

Rogue (95), Bard (91), Monk (43), Ranger (41), Warlock (38)

Swashbuckler rogue (21), Glamour bard (13), Mercy monk (9), Drunken monk, Wild Magic sorcerer (8)

I also (although less consistently) collected continent/setting predictions. Marquet was the top (49), then Issylra (29) and the Shattered Teeth (22). For non-continent settings, some form of Spelljammer was the top (19), followed by the Age of Arcanum (17), and Planescape/Planehopping (15). Underdark, Ravenloft, Blightshore, and a return to Tal'Dorei were also suggested multiple times.

Much longer and rambly discussion (and my own predictions) under the break.

Top predicted races were Dwarf, Elf, and Human (~100). Dwarf and Elf haven't been played before, so that tracks, and I don't think it's out there to assume we'll get at least one human again. Also, post the whole thing with Essek and long rests, people really started jumping on Elves (which, fair). Warforged, Dragonborn, Tabaxi, Genasi, Tieflings, and Changelings all are pretty prominent (~50).

Of the races not yet established as existing in Exandria, Warforged and Changeling were the most popular (Warforged now dubiously canon post-Aeor, and Changelings dubiously canon with the LoVM bartender), followed by Shifters, Leonin, Kalashtar, Fairies, Grung, Ravnica races (Loxodon, Simic Hybrid, Vedalken), Van Richten's Races (Dhampir, Reborn, Hexblood). Locathah and the other Feywild/Strixhaven races are the only officially published races at 0 suggestions. The lowest previously seen race is Gobins at 2, one of which was for Sam again, and the lowest PHB race was Half-Orc at 17.

Class wise, Sorcerer was actually the most predicted class (which kind of tracks, as it's the one that hasn't shown up even as multiclass), followed by Cleric (generally assumed as compulsory), Paladin (only as a multiclass), and Rogue (also assumed as compulsory, but way less so. Not surprisingly, Bloodhunter, Ranger, and Artificer were the lowest.

Wild Magic Sorcerer was far and away the most suggested subclass, the only one to break 50, although it hasn't hit 100 quite yet (I think it will by the time the final characters are announced though). EK Fighter, Lycan Blooodhunter, Forge Cleric, Swashbuckler Rogue, Wild Soul Barbarian, Stars Druid, Glamour Bard, Bladesinger Wizard, Eloquence Bard, and Echo Knight Fighter are the other top subclasses.

Every official subclass has been suggested except for Berserker Barbarian, Grave Cleric, and Transmutation Wizard (previously played), Battlerager Barbarian and Banneret/Purple Dragon Knight (SCAG subclasses, which are widely unpopular), and the dubiously-official Planeshift subclasses. Open Seas Paladin is the only Matt homebrew to not be suggested at least once. For dead UA, Satire Bard, Brute Fighter, Giant Soul and Stone Sorcerer, and Raven Queen Warlock have all been suggested, usually only once, although many of the suggestions were collected while classes were in UA for Tasha's, Van Richten's, and Fizban's which is technically still UA but announced so...

With Travis, the predictions bounce between two main ideas - a melee spellcaster (Forge/War/Tempest cleric, Bladesinger/War wizard), or going back to a melee class (Bloodhunter, Fighter) but with a bit more mechanical interest (Lycan, EK/Echo/Rune/Battlemaster). I think those are both solid predictions, and while I really, really doubt we'll see a Lycan bloodhunter or a Forge cleric, I think the general vibe is probably spot on.

My own prediction is one of the more out there, but still in line with the general thinking - Artillerist Artificer. Travis is definitely a very tactical player, and it would be cool to see him get a turret for the battlefield, plus all the general utility/versatility of the artificer. Alternatively, I really could see a rogue, although more like what Mastermind or Inquisitive is trying for as opposed to how they actually turned out, if that makes sense.

Race wise, the top guesses are fairly plain, outside of shifter (which is mostly tied into the "werewolf" vibe). None of them would shock me, but I don't have any predictions.

I think that everyone's right on the money with Marisha as a paladin. Her next character being high charisma seems spot on, and I think moving to a half-caster also tracks. EK/Echo/Rune/Psi fighters would also fit, although they don't lean towards high charisma, or a warlock, maybe a more melee one.

Rogue seems unlikely purely due to the fact she's played one before, kind of. Matt and Marisha have both talked some, but her first game wasn't Vox Machina, but a previous game Matt had run where she'd played an assassin. You can do non-assassiny rogues, but still.

(Other fun facts about this game because it's wild: apparently the session she sat in on before playing involved half the party getting eaten by ghouls. the party joined up with another half-tpk'd party (marisha and the replacement characters) to get the raven queen to bring their dead friends back, and a fate-touched rogue swore service to the Raven Queen in order to bring the last party member back.)

My prediction for Marisha is also paladin, although I don't have any thoughts on the subclass, with genie warlock as a second because they are fun. No real thoughts on race other than I too would love to see tiefling Marisha.

Most people are going with a support caster for Liam, which I totally buy. Caleb definitely leaned towards support caster, even if he usually did end up played as DPS. Druid has taken the top given the polymorph->wildshape vibe, although it's still very yclose with Bard and Cleric. Suggestions for fighter dropped after EXU, and while Liam does play a lot of fighters, I doubt we'll see it for C3.

Honestly, Liam is the one I have no predictions for outside of 'support caster'. I'd lean away from Cleric and towards Druid or Bard, but it's hard to say. I also think Artificer deserves to be in the running, as it seems like something Liam would really enjoy, but also...might not want to go Int-caster to Int-caster. My only real thought on race is that I want to see whether Marisha and Liam choose the same again.

Top guesses for Sam is, far and away, Wild Magic Sorcerer. This was also the top guess for C2. I do not think Sam will play a Wild Magic Sorcerer. In general, though, the vibe is going back to fullcaster - Sorcerer, Cleric, Druid, Wizard. I think full caster is probably right.

Sam is so hard to predict because it isn't what he'd choose, but what Liam chose for him. I think it's either something really standard or something really out there, and since I can't guess the really out there, I'll go for the standard - Elf Wizard or Dwarf Cleric, leaning towards Dwarf Cleric, due to the support class and the fact that Sam's mentioned never playing a religious character.

The main vibe for Laura is definitely "DPS" which is understandable. I don't know if I agree with it, but I understand it. Aside from Barbarian, the rest of the vibe is spellcaster - and I don't think we'll see a completely no magic character from her either.

Prediction wise...I understand barbarian, but I'd actually go with Ancestor or Beast over Wild Soul. I could actually see a Bloodhunter from her too, although leaning away from Vex vibes. I think I'd want to go with Wizard, though I'm not certain on that. I would bet Tabaxi but idk, I could see her avoiding that for Travis' sake.

Everyone always names Taliesin as the hardest to predict (he had the lowest count at 354, under even Ashley at 365, to everyone else's ~380/400) but I don't think he's harder to predict than Sam. The thing that makes him hard to predict is that he likes to build characters to fit the party, which he (probably) won't be doing, same as with Molly. The other main thing he tends towards is mechanical complexity in a way that suits his characters.

The main driving influence in the top suggestions is Eldritch Weirdness. Aberrant Sorc, Whispers Bard, Phantom Rogue, Warlock in general. I don't disagree with any of the subclasses, but I really don't think he'd go eldritch for eldritch sake, if for at the very least being...he has always been this weird and it's yet to be a driving force behind any of his characters before. Like the Taliesin-is-an-elder-god thing, I think this is mostly people who don't hang out around occultists. Look, I've had multiple people sell me their actual souls, and you don't see all my characters being warlocks.

That being said, I don't think I disagree with the top classes, just the subclasses. I definitely agree with Sorcerer as a good choice for him, although I'd actually go Clockwork, as I think it has a fuck-with-the-DM vibe. Taliesin is the most heavily suggested for dunamancy subclasses, which wouldn't surprise me, but I think he might avoid on the sole point of not wanting something too tied with the last campaign. A lot of people also name the psionic subclasses, which I'd be more likely to second if they had kept the weird mechanic from the UA, but don't disagree with, excepting my issue with Aberrant Mind.

My out there guess is that he's going to choose a multiclass build. He definitely enjoys playing around with weird builds (Owlbear, he did a non-CR oneshot as a monk/stars druid). On the one hand, a lot of these builds work best for oneshots or starting at higher levels, as they can take a bit of time to come online, but with such a large party, I think it will still function.

(my actual prediction for Taliesin is that his character is weirdly reminiscent of either the aasimar echo knight or the elf blood cleric from the exandria game I'm running.)

Ashley is being predicted as a Dex/Cha build, and I'm totally here for it. Pre-Fearne, I was leaning Ranger, especially Fey Wanderer for a fey build, but post-Fearne, I'm going Rogue, especially Swashbuckler. I agree that seeing a high Cha Ashley would be great, especially to let her be more center-focused than Yasha had been, and swashbucklers are just...really fun. Also, the whole Aeor arc really left me wanting to see Ashley as the go-ahead-and-scout character, just to watch her push buttons.

For continents...I understand why people are guessing Marquet, since it's currently the most explored. I think that if they're going to do Marquet, then Matt will sit down with a cultural consultant. I say will over should, because I won't make any value judgements, but I think it's in line with what Matt and CR would do in that situation.

I can't really tell whether this is a prediction or what I'd like to see (the two are distinct but often difficult to untangle) but I'd actually go with Issylra, and specifically playing up the (at least initial) set up of explorers and adventurers heading out into the wilds. I will also place my bets on them having some sort of more steady home base, and my hopes on that they get an airship. My wildest out there guess is that the plot will move towards either planescape/spelljammer in the upper levels, tying into some of the seeds from the end of C2.

I have seen a handful of people predicting table seating order, which is both very minor and also the thing that I may be most interested in. A while back, someone made a post pointing out that the main romantic relationships were all cross-table, while the strongest platonic relationships were same-table or side by side. Because I am the sort of person that I am, I did statistical analysis on ao3 fics....and it's statistically significant. So I am trying to see whether or not, based purely on C3E1, I'll be able to predict what the top ships for the campaign will be.

This rambling has mostly gotten out of hand because I don't have much opportunity to talk about this, but, you know. If you send me predictions I will give you the current odds gambling style, so that you'd know how much you'd win if you'd place a bet, because I did the tables up as a joke for something else and now I kind of want them to be used for something.

#critical role #critical role campaign 3 #cr campaign 3 #critical role predictions #critcal role meta #cr meta #cr stats

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curious-menace · 3 years

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Can you do headcanons of any Riddler getting cared for and gentle kisses from reader after getting beat up? He needs some loves.

SO I MAY HAVE SUGGESTED THAT MY ULTIMATE FANTASY IS TO GIVE RIDDLER A HUG WITH BACKRUBS AS HE TELLS ME ABOUT HIS DAY AND I STAND BY THAT WHOLE-HEARTEDLY .

i freaking love this stuff so im going to do all of them mwahahah

post asswoop riddlers getting loves

Arkham riddler

He’s VERY quiet, which knowing him and his inability to stop talking, is bad news.

I paint arkham riddler as a cry baby and i stand by that. this is the hill i will die on. He’ll have dragged his sorry ass into your apartment or house , dripping blood on your floors but he wont bother calling for you. he’ll just sit at the table with his head in his hands having a lil pity party until you find him.

when you do finally get home, he’ll be looking like a kicked puppy. he’s gotten stuck in his own head, mentally beating himself up even more. he got a fright when you came in because he was so caught up he didn't even hear you at the door.

He’s literally sits there like a child with his arms up for you to come scoop him up. he’s not even sure why his first thought after getting beat up was to come here, he’s probably lead the cops here or something and that was so stupid and- you should probably give him a lil soft smooch on the head to stop him before he goes into a spiral.

he needs more emotional and mental care than physical. Talk to him while you're patching him up. any topic, it doesn't matter just keep him focused on your voice and not the one in his head calling him dumb.

he wont admit he wants to be held and coddled after something like this. get your softest blankie and 2 mugs of coco with marshmallows and just ramble at him. tell him about your day or ask him to explain something boring and complicated so he’s focusing on that rather than how upset he is. let him sit on your lap or between your legs on the sofa and watch how its made or mythbusters or something until he falls asleep. he should be ok again in the morning, he doesnt stay down for long.

Blacklight Riddler

He’s used to getting his ass kicked, either by batman, the other rogues or once he’s a PI, by unhappy clients and the people he put away. He might be tiny but he’s pretty tough.

even if he’s really hurting, his probably trying to crack jokes and tell blood and bruise related riddles. He doesn't like to see you worry so even if he’s in a lot of pain or a bit upset about things, he’s trying to make you smile.

he likes kisses on his bruises. even if he just banged his hand on the table he’ll come to you because he wants you to kiss it better.

He’s a decent fighter, unlike a lot of riddlers who couldnt fight their way out of a paper bag. He can throw punches but he lacks in defence and with his bad knee, dodging can be a little hard. even if he wins the fight he’s still likely to need you to patch him up.

He likes kids plasters. like hello kitty and spongebob. no im not joking, he ALWAYS wanted them when he was little and his parents always said no. now he’s an adult he’s going to use them whenever he damn well pleases.

if it was a particularly bad one, he’ll be ok in the moment even if he has to go to hospital. But he’s going to drop the facade at some point and let you see how upset he is. winding up in hospital after being beat was a common occurrence in childhood. even after doing it time and time again as an adult it doesn't make it any easier on him. he’ll want to stay in your bed, be close to you for few days until either he starts to heal or something snaps him out of his funk.

BTAS Riddler

he really prefers other people to do the fighting for him. well physically anyway. he can handle his own arguments...most of the time. He’s going to need you to nurse a bruised ego more than anything. he probably got dunked on my batman or crane and now he’s huffing.

i don't know if this counts as care and kisses but he clearly needs you around to keep his sorry ass alive. he hurt his side in a fight once and said he wasn't hurt. believable... until he started to act a little confused, a little dizzy. needless to say it worried you enough to take him to emergency care.

He was obviously in agony by now but he was still fighting with you the entire drive there, insulting you and insisting he was fine. its a good job you took him when he did, turns out he’d ruptured his spleen and would probably be dead if you weren’t around to act like his common sense.

he still hasnt apologised for that. or any of the other times you insisted on medical care to stop him from pushing up daisies. he just pretends like you know he’s grateful so he doenst have to admit he’s bullheaded, stubborn and worst of all, wrong.

if he has been seriously hurt, he acts more indignant about it than anything. he wants to be waited on and pampered while resting in bed. he can be a genuine pain to deal with, talking about how lucky you are to see him in such a vulnerable state and how you should be grateful he’s letting you do this for him.

He doesn't want to admit how much he actually needs you. his goons wont put up with him when he’s like this and he’s freaking paying them to do it. you do it for free and no matter how annoying he is you havent left him yet. he doesn't tell you but youve noticed he starts getting you more gifts about a week after he’s recovered. like its taken him a day or two to work out he should probably thank you for all you do.

Original Riddler

this riddler is just weird. like he gets a freaking hang nail and he pretends like he’s dying. but he could nearly lose a limb and he’ll say “tis but a scratch” and still try to hobble about like nothing is wrong.

actually he’s more like olaf “oh look i've been impaled.”. he probably tries to laugh off life threatening injuries like its nothing, taking maybe 3 steps before he collapses on his face in a blood puddle and lets out a tiny “help”

good luck moving his tall lanky ass around. better get a gurney and maybe those vets at the zoo who deal with giraffes. seriously if you want to take care of him you are going to need help or some sort of action plan and a go bag because with his limp butt this will not be easy.

he’s kinda like BTAS riddler in that he needs you to tell him the injury is serious. hes not dumb he just has a high pain threshold and genuinely doesn't realise that injuries are as bad as they are.

he can be a bit of a baby while being patched up. he doesn't like a lot of blood or gore, it makes him feel a little sicky. better give him your phone to play with like a kid at the doctors or put the tv on for him to watch while you bandage him. word of warning, he will pass out or throw up if you try to give him stitches.

i think you should focus your love and attention on him AFTER medical care. just focus on the job, be silent and as fast as possible to get it over with quickly. you should probably bring him something sweet too. no not just you, although you are sweet for looking after him. give him something sugary because he’s going to be light headed after seeing any blood. maybe you could give him a lolly for being a good patient.

Telltale riddler

this riddler is essentially a metahuman. he can REALLY take a beating and bounce back fairly quickly. just look how many times batman punched him in the face and it barely stunned him! he doesnt usually need patched up after a fight. maybe just a lil smooch and some hugs

he did really need your help after the whole pact thing. having his friends abandon him hurt like hell, more than any physical injury ever could.

after that, he clings to you. almost obsessively so; we know he’s got some serious mental illnesses but he usually has the worst of it under control, even without meds. now? it seems like he’s experiencing ptsd and is afraid to go anywhere without you, like you might up and disappear if you arent in his line of sight at all times.

i think this riddler might need the most intense care from you. hugs and gentle reassurance wont be enough. you’re going to be responsible for taking him to therapy, keeping him taking his meds and grounding him to reality. this is the kind of responsibility you took on when you got involved with him but i doubt you realised how hard it would be. i cant promise it will all be worth it but i can promise he wont ever forget your kindness.

the kind of care he needs after such a hard knocking down is just stability. im not one for romance or any mushy gushy stuff but please just pour your love into the cracks in this poor mans soul.

its hard going, but he has his moments. his gallows sense of humor is still there and hey, after him being in and out and gone for so long, it might be nice to have him around more.

Zero year riddler

INSUFFERABLE LITTLE SHIT THIS ONE. he could LITERALLY be bleeding out in your arms and he’d STILL be backseat driving on your medical skills. the temptation to just leave him there to bleed is INCREDIBLE.

he’ll drop the act eventually. he’ll ask and maybe even beg for your help. man has no shame and all the self preservation instincts of a lemming. dont get me wrong, he can be a total coward some times, only looking out for himself . but when he’s actually hurt ? not a fuckin clue. does this head wound need an ice pack or heat pack? is this spurring blood wound worthy of medical care? no idea. he was a very sheltered child who never got so much as a bruise so he has no idea what to do when he’s hurt.

he gets the everloving shit kicked out of him on a clockwork basis. like you could hear knocking on your door at 3 am and already be at the table with a first aid kit like oh its tuesday riddler must have broken his nose.

he takes entirely too much joy in making you patch him up. youre starting to wonder if he’s doing it on purpose just to see you in your little apron and latex gloves . he’s getting off on this and you know it but god help you, you just cant resist his dumb face asking for your help and would you also wear this pink nurses outfit while youre at it?

one time he lost a LOT of blood. he would be fine but he was pretty damn loopy from lightheadedness. while you were trying to get him into bed to rest he started flirting with you. can you believe the audacity? he’s lost 3 pints of blood and he’s still more focus on his libido?

he’s actually going to be both humble and grateful for your help when he finally comes round. dont get me wrong, he’s still a bit of a prick but at least he says thank you for saving him before he demands you kiss all his booboos and ouchies.

nonnie i am having a stroke. i was trying SO hard to just pick one but i COULDNT because i am WEAK for hurt and comfort.

theres a reason i have a tag that literally says “i have naughty hands and no self control”

someone needs to stage an intervention

got something you wana talk about? send me an ask or a dm! im always game to talk about our favorite curious menace 💚💜

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roanniom · 3 years

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Paterson’s Favorite Things

Paterson x Reader

Word Count: 1,311

Summary: You and Paterson enjoy a quiet Wednesday night.

Warnings: N S F W, M/F sex but mainly fluffy, sappy poeticism

Paterson lives a simple life. He loves nothing more than his routine, his poetry, and his woman. The former two, in his mind, exist to center and celebrate the latter. He wakes to you in his arms in your shared bed, goes about his day to contribute to your shared life, and returns to your shared home in the late afternoon. To watch as the failing sun dances across your smiling face while you tell him about your day and work on your latest culinary endeavor.

You shuffle towards him with a wooden spoon full of spicy goodness, offered up to his lips with a hand held below his chin to catch any rogue, saucy drips before they can stain the bright white shirt he wears around the house. Paterson swallows down the flavorful liquid – a recipe that is one third your grandma’s Bolognese, one third Thai curry from a recipe card found tucked in a book about ducks you’d borrowed from the library, and one third pure imagination. Pure you. The spices tingle on his tongue and in his throat as they go down and he can’t help but think that they even taste like you. That essence you exude with abandon –

A zing, a zest, something that burns or stings if you hold it on your tongue too long, like a lemon.

Oh but also like a lemon, if you hold it to your tongue long enough, it almost becomes sweet. Your mouth adapts, allowing saliva to pool and neutralize the harshness till the citrus takes on a honeyed quality.

“What do you think, Pat?” you ask, licking delicately at the remnants of sauce still coating the spoon after his taste. “Do you think it needs some salt?”

Paterson blinks, the poetry of spices and lemons disappearing from the air where it had begun to swirl around him. In its wake he sees your sweet smile, waiting for his feedback.

“I don’t think that needs a thing, honey.” Pat licks his lips and offers a small smile. “It’s perfect.”

This, too, is part of the routine. Sitting on a kitchen chair. Tasting the concoction of the day. Seeing the colors and the feelings and the images swirl through the air as his mind whizzes in response to your energy. Your laugh. Your attention.

Soon he will go downstairs while you finish preparing the meal. It’s another part of the routine. You inspire him, and he tries his best to put those thoughts into words, patiently pushed against notebook paper in sturdy, dependable graphite. He doesn’t worry too much about getting them just right. If the words are borne of the way he feels about you, that’s about as right as it can get, after all.

At night when he falls into bed with you, so begins the part of his day which blends his favorite things together into one – routine, poetry, and you.

Like clockwork, you grab lavender oil from the nightstand and dab a little on your wrists, temple, and neck. Then, in a habit that came about without discussion but which both of you wordlessly enjoy, you turn and dab a little on his chest, following the line of his sternum. His old habit of wearing his comfy white shirts to bed had long been discarded when met with your preference for sleeping skin to skin.

You put the small bottle away and move on to, in his opinion, the best part of this routine. Gracefully throwing a leg over his wide hips, you straddle Paterson’s strong body, leaning down to breathe in the fragrance now emanating from his freckled skin. His large hands encircle your wrists, your palms flat against his broad pectorals to steady yourself in your nightly mission. You kiss in an upside down T shape up his body – kissing your way right from center to lick his left nipple, kissing your way left to lick at his right nipple (usually prematurely taut from your ministrations on its twin) and then back to center before traveling upward to the base of his throat.

And Paterson is Paterson. Always so sweet and patient. It is at this point that you roll your hips against his, a silent signal of permission. He grabs your face on either side, pulling it down so your mouths can meet. Paterson’s tongue is needy as he tastes you. Tastes your zing till saliva pools and the kiss is wet and sloppy but oh do you taste like honey.

This is the one time he allows himself to be selfish. And you crave it. You encourage it, spurring him on with breathy little moans and words of praise, both of which he feasts on. One hand slides up your body to encompass your left breast, feeling the weight of it and kneading it with splayed fingers. His other hand snakes around your hip, over your lower stomach and between your folds. Seeking your wetness. Seeking your warmth.

“Pat, you feel so good when you touch me like this.” Your words are direct. You are not the poet. But the clarity of your feelings, expressed simply, makes his head swim. Makes his cock harden even more between you. You reach down to join his hand between your legs, managing to gather some of your own wetness which he’d greedily claimed. You bring your hand back up to slide your slick over his cock, your hand barely large enough to span the circumference. That doesn’t keep him from moaning however, a sound that vibrates right to your clit.

You grind your hips down harder now, riding his hand as he slips one, then two, then three fingers into your wet heat. You writhe and pant above him and it happens again, but this time the vibrance is almost blinding. Colors and feelings and images swirl through the air as his mind whizzes. Full of you.

But unlike before he does not go downstairs to put words to feelings and pencil to paper. No. Instead, he translates the feeling directly into your body. Your back hits the mattress and he is above you, hands touching squeezing caressing every inch of skin he can reach. His lips meet your nipple, your neck, your stomach, teeth and tongue spelling out words on the canvas of you.

When he plunges inside of you, you cling to him for a few seconds as your body adjusts to his size. Your panting in his ear provides rhythm. A cadence. When he begins to move, steadily in and out, this is the beat he snaps his hips to, dragging his cock through your sensitive walls. Your sharp gasps of pleasure punctuate his thoughts, your breathy moans little flourishes that make his mind go blank and his hips stutter against you arrhythmically.

When his hand reaches between you both and massages your clit, he is tracing out words that belong to no language known to man but which anyone with a heart and a lover would immediately recognize. You writhe beneath him and bite your lip with eyes squeezed tightly shut. Paterson, however, never takes his eyes off your face.

When you cum, you scream his name.

Paterson, however, cums quietly, instead pouring poetry into you, wringing poetry out of you, and surrounding you engulfing you smothering you with the weight of it all. You are no poet yourself, but as the heaviness of Paterson’s body sinks you deeper into the mattress, you feel the way you imagine Renaissance women of old must have felt, great patronesses of the arts who inspired and admired.

And you know this is silly. Because this is just sex on a Wednesday night.

And this is just you and Paterson.

But Paterson kisses you then on the forehead, as he does every night as the breath calms in his chest.

Paterson loves a simple life.

~*~

Tagging some lovely people (please let me know if you’d like to be tagged or untagged in future work!): @mariesackler @direnightshade @safarigirlsp @sacklerscumrag @paper-in-ashes-fanfiction

#Paterson x reader #fanfiction #Paterson #smut #fanfic #writing #Roanniom #Paterson x reader smut

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avaritia-apotheosis · 3 years

Text

Phantom Children [DP x Batman Crossover] Ch. 2

In which: Danny thinks, Talia is concerned, and we finally see Ra's al Ghul's pride an joy: the Lazarus pit

AO3 | Prologue | 1 | [ 2 ] | 3 |

---

DANNY COUNTS THE DAYS by the hours he is in the monitor room. One hour is all that he is allowed. One hour after a day of learning and fighting, of ‘yes ma’am’ and ‘no sir’ and ‘stand up straighter, boy’ and ‘remember that you have feet.’ Of being handed a sword only to have it knocked out of his hand (pickitup-pickitup-pick-it-up). Of ‘here’s eight plants, only one of them is the antidote to the poison you just ingested, and you better hope you remember the difference because this is the life you live now, Danny.’ This is what you agreed to for some time in front of a few television screen.

One hour. Sixty minutes. Three thousand and six hundred measly fucking seconds was all he got to see his family before he’s ushered back to his room. Dark. Barren. Windowless.

God, when was the last time he saw the stars?

He spent his multitude of ‘one hours’ simply watching. That was all he could do, really. Watch and collect snatches of Amity—of Before. Like torn pieces of an antique photograph, unable to be restored but too precious to throw away.

Talia would call him too sentimental. Danny would love to remind Talia that if it wasn’t for her and her freaky older-than-dirt dad, Danny wouldn’t even need to be fucking sentimental.

Breathe in for four. Hold for seven. Breathe out for eight.

Repeat.

Repeat again.

One more time.

There’s a voice in Danny’s head that sounded too much like Jazz telling him that this kind of behavior was unhealthy. The Jazz in Danny’s head didn’t exactly know why, though they’re both pretty sure that constantly watching your family and friends move on after your death probably isn’t good for one’s sanity. Especially since Danny isn’t really dead.

Well.

Dead-er.

He isn’t—

(family-love-mememe-why aren’t they looking harder-don’t they care-they care-for their own good-what about-happy-no-me-them-me-them).

Truth be told, Danny isn’t angry that everyone in Amity seemed to be getting on with their lives. God, he’s seen how his suppsed-death affected them. He can’t—he won’t be responsible for holding them back from living when he can’t even be sure if he’ll ever be able to return to Amity again.

(He’s seen what happens when someone refuses to move on. Hell, the Zone is full of it. It’s either you obsess with grief…or you try to rip it out of yourself entirely.)

Danny wanted them to live on. Be happy. (With him.)The FentonWorks portal remained under constant vigilance, and since Pariah Dark, most ghosts recognized Amity as his haunt and tended to stay away. With any major threats he could only hope that Clockwork would step in somehow and at least keep it contained. Tucker and Sam were more than capable enough to handle most of his regular rogues gallery, especially if Red Huntress was backing them up too.

Amity…didn’t really need Danny anymore to protect it.

(Family-happy-protectprotectprotect-what?-safe-not safe-not needed).

For all that they tried to find out, Danny, Sam, and Tucker never did manage to figure out what his ghostly obsession was. Sam went out on a limb and said Heroism which…wasn’t quite right but fit the bill well enough.

And what was the point of heroes?

To build a world where they aren’t needed.

------

There was a noticeable shift in her son’s demeanor after he learned of the true nature of his parentage. Though it should be noted that while Talia showed a photograph of her beloved to Daniel, she did not disclose his true identity as to Ra’s al Ghul’s orders. Her father reasoned that it was more advantageous for Daniel to develop a closer connection with the maternal side of his family as opposed to the Waynes—a name that would be more familiar and thus better viewed than the strange people who kidnapped him.

No; ‘Recovered’ would be the most appropriate term. Daniel was her child. Would always be her child, no matter who raised him.

Daniel was…quieter. Somber. His eyes glazed yet sharp—blue eyes bloodshot despite maintaining a regular sleep schedule. Like pit madness with neither the madness nor the pit; simply the look of rage that bubbles beneath the skin, close to boiling over yet never there.

He continued to watch his false family obsessively. Yet…he had taken to watching Talia as well. Quietly. Unobtrusively. Small glances at the corner of his eye. Contemplative looks with furrowed brows whenever he presumed she did not notice. He had even taken to meticulously check his reflection in the mirror; pinching cheeks and turning his face this way and that, cataloguing his features as if to find what parts of him was from her—or perhaps if there was any part of him that ever resembled the paranormal scientists he once called parents.

Even if the physical similarities were not there, the DNA testing—regardless of the anomalies found in Daniel’s genes—was proof enough that he was her son.

“You have been keeping with your diet regimen, yes?” Asked one of the League’s physicians. He pressed his gloved fingers against Daniel’s skin, brushing the ridges of his ribcage. Marring her son’s skin was a large, faint scars. Fractals branching across his torso like the branches of a gruesome tree. “You are still too thin.”

“Fast metabolism,” Daniel mumbled. He is sat on an examination table in their medical wing, black shirt neatly folded beside him. His figure, though not skeletal, per se, was gaunt. His ribs poking from his pallor skin, stomach still concave for a boy who ate double the portions than any other member of the League of Assassins. “I’ve had it since the accident, but it’s never gotten this bad.”

The physician hummed, jotting his notes down along side the results of Danny’s vitals. The exact numbers were unknown to Talia, standing as she was by the door, though she could infer the results from previous physical examinations. (Low blood pressure and core body temperature. Faint pulse, slight tachycardia,) “Do you have any ideas why?”

Daniel’s lips thinned, eyes darting to the side as he always did whenever Phantom was related in anyway. His face was too open; Talia needed to train him out of that. “My…” He took a deep breath. “Ghosts aren’t supposed to stay very long in the Material world. It lacks the ectoplasmic energies that helps them ‘stay alive,’ so to speak. Usually they can supplement some of this by filtering some of the ambient energy in the atmosphere to strengthen themselves—it’s why Amity was such a hotspot for ghosts because of the large concentration of ectoplasm in the atmosphere—but it still isn’t a good long term solution.”

He scratched the back of his head. “Since I’m still somewhat human, I’m able to spend way more time in the Material world and can substitute spending days in the Zone by instead filtering ambient energy and eating.”

The physician made another noise, the tip of his pen tapping against the side of the clipboard. “So I take it then that, as your other half doesn’t have access to this ‘ambient energy’ as you call it, it is forced to take what energy it needs from the calories you’ve consumed, yes?”

“Basically.”

“What will happen if you do not have enough calories to supplement this energy?”

Danny shrugged, a rueful smile on his face. “Dunno. Maybe this time, death will stick.”

Talia narrowed her eyes.

Such a thing will not happen. She had been forced to give up on Daniel once, and then later on she lost her youngest to her beloved. Never again.

This child was hers.

------

“Father, did you not say that the anomalies found in Daniel’s DNA were similar in composition to the Lazarus pit?”

Ra’s al Ghul did not pause in pause in his reading to look up at Talia. The bird shaped magnifying glass held steady above the ancient manuscripts spread across his desk, eyes focused on the words and figures carefully inked onto the page. “Yes.�� He set aside the magnifying glass and gently flipped the page. “It is what strengthened my belief of the connection between the Lazarus pit and these spirits.”

Talia straightened. “With your permission I would like to place Daniel into the pit.”

Her fathered looked up, curious. “You forget what the pit does to those who are in good health.”

She placed the results of Daniel’s most recent physical exam on to of his desk. Ra’s sat back in his chair and idly flipped through the folder, reading the contents as if no different to reading the newspaper instead of how his grandson is slowly being starved by his own biology. “Well, well. This would be a problem.”

He closed the folder, a wry grin curling at his lips. “Have him ready for tomorrow. I am curious as to how the pit would affect one already half-dead.”

------

Danny is awoken by Talia sometime the next day. “Come,” she said. “You do not need to change, so come quickly.”

He got off the bed with a silent groan, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the heel of his palm. “Where are we going?”

“Not far. Somewhere that will help you.”

He snorted. “Letting me go home would help me.”

Talia doesn’t answer, simply waiting for him at the door. Danny groaned, combing away as much of his bedhead with his fingers as he followed her.

For the first time since being dragged to Nanda Parbat, Danny is allowed to venture beyond his small section of the compound.

He didn’t really know what to expect.

Still didn’t stop everything from being so…anticlimactic.

Beyond the steel door, normally kept locked and guarded by two of his shadow guards, was a hallway. Endlessly long with a wide pathway, lit enough by the fluorescent lights overhead but not enough to banish the shadows that clung to the stone walls. The hallway looked empty. ‘Looked’ being the key word, here. Even if he couldn’t see them, Danny would bet on his half-life that the shadows were teeming with life.

Talia led the way through the maze of twists and turns (were they underground?), a couple of shadow guards quietly following behind them.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

Talia looked at him from over her shoulder for a moment, then turned away. “Have you heard of the Lazarus pits?”

“Lazarus? Like the guy who came back to life?” Neither of his parents were really religious. His dad only really Baptist in name because he was born into a Baptist family that, too, wasn’t overly strict in their religion. The only reason why Danny knew of this Lazarus guy was because of Mr. Lancer’s unit on Greco-Roman and Christian allusions.

Talia nodded, turning a corner. “The Lazarus pits are natural pools with restorative properties, capable of rejuvenating the body, healing grievous injuries, and even bringing the dead back to life.”

Danny nearly tripped over his own feet. “What? That’s—” Impossible. He ran up to Talia, wildly gesticulating with his hands. “What’s dead is dead. Resurrecting the dead goes against the natural law of the universe!”

“Well, you seem to be doing fine.”

He frowned, crossing his arms. “That’s different. I’m still dead, even if my entire existence seems like the but end of a Schrodinger’s joke.”

“Be that as it may, what I speak is truth.” She stopped in front of a door and opened it. Then, stepping aside to usher Danny in first. “See of yourself.”

Danny stepped inside, Talia following behind him, and—

Oh.

Before he even saw the pit, he could feel it. A low and steady hum reminiscent of the ghost portal. But…different. Not necessarily fainter but garbled, like hearing someone speak underwater.

The room was a large, open space, with stone walls framed by red wooden pillars. It was dim, lit only by the green glow of the pit that consumed the majority of the space. A square pool of too-clear waters and toxic-looking steam rising from the surface.

The waters felt of the Zone but…not.

“Ah, Daniel.” He nearly jumped out of his own skin. Ra’s al Ghul stepped out of the shadows behind him, hands folded behind his back. The green glow highlighted the sharp contours of his face; the shadows that clung to him only making his visage harsher. “It is good to see you.”

Danny greeted the Demon’s Head with a League salute. “Grandfather.”

The word felt foreign on his tongue despite being in English. To formal for a boy who never really had the chance to interact with his own grandparents. But Danny was told to refer to Ra’s like this, and so he did. (He was only grateful Talia didn’t insist on calling her ‘mother.’)

Ra’s al Ghul was an enigma. Centuries old yet he looked only about a decade older than his mom and dad. (Jack and Maddie Fenton will always be his mom and dad. They raised him. Loved him, in their own eccentric, science-y way. No blood test or adoption or ninja-assassins could change that). Like Danny’s still-unnamed biological father, Ra’s carried himself with theatrical purpose. Comically villainous in his attire and grand gestures, though unlike Vlad, Ra’s had this overwhelmingly intimidating presence that engulfed whatever room he stepped in.

Ra’s was a man that commanded attention as opposed to demanding it. And now, at the focus of the man’s calculating gaze, Danny could not help but stand stiff at attention.

“You’re mother was right,” Ra’s said. Danny barely restrained himself from perking up at that word. “You are wasting away, Daniel.”

Tell me something I don’t know.

“Well, at least you still have that fire in you.”

Danny startled, slapping his hand over his mouth. Shit, he didn’t know he said that out loud. Out of the corner of his eye, Talia suppressed a small smile.

“You have that in common with the Detective,” Ra’s continue, circling Danny like a carrion that spotted its next meal. “That and the rather foolish notion on not properly reporting the extent of your injuries.”

“With all due respect, grandfather, I wasn’t expecting on staying here for this long.”

Ra’s gave him a knowing look. “But something is keeping you here, isn’t it?”

“Keeping my family and friends hostage is a pretty good motivator, apparently.” An insidious thought bubbled in Danny’s mind. But that isn’t all, is it?”

“I have consulted your mother and your physician as to the nature of your condition, and I have decided that the Lazarus pit would be a sufficient way to restore your health.” He gestured to the pool. “It appears that your DNA shares several similarities to the composition to the Lazarus pit.”

Danny crouched at the edge of the pit, hovering his hand above the water’s surface. “It’s because it contains ectoplasm. An impure kind, I think.”

“Will the impurities be harmful to you?”

He pursed his lips. “I don’t think so? My body can filter out the impurities just fine, it’s just that I’ve never encountered thistype of ectoplasm before. It’s so clear and—aqueous, I think is the word.”

There’s a strange glint in Ra’s eyes. Dare Danny say it, it even looked mischievous. It made him uneasy, and just as Danny made a move to step back, Ra’s al Ghul picked him up by the collar of his night shirt—

And threw Danny into the Lazarus Pit.

#danny phantom #batman #danny phantom x batman crossover #phantom children.txt

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kariachi · 4 years

Text

Okay y’all, it’s the big day. The latest of the Ben 10 movies, after which I will be fully caught up on the franchise and can unblacklist it finally because two days is too damn much already.

I’m going in with, pretty much no info? I’ve watched one trailer, don’t even know if there’s more, and gotten hints of spoilers. Enough to worry for my son but not enough to actually know anything. Which, given Kevin is about all I care about, tells you some of how I feel going into this. Am crossing my fingers and hoping this ends with him in a really good space and having nothing to do with Phil because I have been worrying about that since I learned he would be in this.

Don’t trust that man as far as my piddly arms could throw him and anyway I don’t want Kevin anywhere near any part of the Forever Dipshit unless he’s actively dismantling the fucker. Asshole deserves to get turned into a toaster. Haven’t heard any ‘oh your reaction is going to be fun’ sort’ve stuff from anybody, so fingers crossed.

But, we can’t know anything until we get into it, so, Ben 10 Versus The Universe.

An hour 12 minutes, yeah it looks like my initial estimate might be accurate. I will be here the entire damn day.

Ooo, it’s own intro, very nice.

Okay, 1) like that intro, very much in the style of the other series and I like that about it. 2) Spent it wondering if they were going to include Kevin in the rogue’s gallery runthrough and instead it literally ends with the Tennysons and Kevin in the Rustbucket, Kevin being his normal little shit self.

Maybe watching this when I was on the rag was a bad idea because y’all I am already in tears he’s enjoying himself so much. My precious son. Gods I love him.

Can I just sit on this frame for an hour, would that count? Can fill the time with telling you how much I love my son.

Ben 10 Versus The Universe: The Movie (The Game: The Gameshow: The TV Series)

They brought in fucking everybody for this. Kelly is at the bottom of the list but I am putting my trust in her. Seriously y’all I am so happy with her work on this show, I knew the reboot was going to be good as soon as I learned she was going to be working on it, she is a delight.

Okay, actual show, apparently we’re starting at what looks like a small base. I don’t know for what. it looks like they want me to think it’s military but also yeah no. The pool is throwing me off the most, I think. I mean wtf?

Oh look, Smythe shit. A steam-powered airship-zeppelin. And Ben as Heatblast handling the situation, as one does.

Ben is so tired. He needs a vacation from this vacation so damn bad. Somebody else handle the villains so he can get like, two weeks to actually relax.

Ah, it’s an industrial server farm. I don’t know enough about those or if it’s even a thing to give an opinion. Smythe wants it gone though, to the shock of nobody.

He wasn’t to wipe out telecommunications so we’re left with telephones as our most advanced mode of conversation.

Ben, meanwhile, is asleep. Can’t blame him.

Ben is bored. This shit is like clockwork, he could probably save the day in his sleep at this point. Especially from Smythe.

“I’m not even breaking a sweat, and I’m on fire!”

Ben saves the day, hardly even has to try (pretty much doesn’t) and in the end even Smythe has to agree this is getting repetitive.

Huh, Max and Gwen were in the doom-ball.

Max and Gwen are not impressed with Ben having been bored while they were under the threat of danger. Ben has the very valid point that they really weren’t at any risk, even if they were in a mine.

Max, while talking about staying ready for the unexpected, gets a phonecall.

Ben: “Bet you anything it’s Phil. He’s got some big emergency and we’ve gotta go somewhere and look at something.” Gwen: “You don’t have to be so smug. Not everything is a dire situation.” Max: “It’s Phil, we gotta go to his lab and look at something. He says it’s pretty dire.” Ben: “Like clockwork.”

Honestly I’d be bored too. This is why they needed to add Argit, something to mix things up, change up the style.

Unfortunately I didn’t get any ‘your reaction is gonna be so fun’ messages so I don’t think we’re getting Argit. But hopefully, given space and Kevin are involved, we will receive an opening for later Argitness.

Hello Phil. I still don’t trust you. You have been nothing but vaguely suspicious shit on top of vaguely suspicious shit every since the season 1 finale and with your history in the other series? Where you were a dipshit from the word go? I wouldn’t leave you alone with a beanbag chair.

Ben, not taking shit seriously, Gwen unimpressed, Phil stating that actually it may be the end of the world. Honestly fuck it save the children let it die. The reboot sequels can be Ben, Gwen, and Kevin traveling the galaxy trying to, ya know, survive and shit. They gather an Argit on the way who honestly is amazed these three didn’t die within a day and half. Tell me you wouldn’t watch that!

Do you even have a bedroom or anything, Phil, or is that building just all lab? Do you pull a Kevin and sleep on your tech?

I don’t trust this giant-computer room. It’s giving me FD vibes.

Anyway yadda yadda object heading straight for Earth, we continue

Ben is so excited to have something new going on

Phil thinks this is a massive meteorite. I’m going to guess warship because I’m fairly certain I remember Incurseans being involved somewhere and honestly.

Oh Ben

I’m like 3.5 minutes in

Ben: If I turn into Cannonbolt you guys can launch be at the meteor and the impact would make it go kablooey Gwen: You and the meteor would ricochet off each other sending you into deep space with no way back Ben: I’d never have homework again Gwen: Ben please

“After months of analyzing your Omnitrix-” I swear this show’s relationship with time will drive me to drink

Phil, do you really think you have time to try to properly prep the child for space? I mean you’ve got over an hour of movie but in-universe

...Phil, why do you have a g-force simulator? And where the fuck are you fitting it?

Okay, seriously, I am concerned at this point by the shit he has on hand. Also why are they focusing on FourArms, mix it up, there’s nine other aliens available

You guys realize you don’t have much choice but to send him anyway? I mean unless you intend to hunt down Kevin and sacrifice him instead which, honestly would be in line with his adult interactions so far and honestly space was good for him in the sequels so maybe it’ll be good for him here.

Ben is so excited and Gwen is so done.

Upgrades to the armor shit have been unlocked.

Problem being, the new armor makes Jetray look, very humanoid. I am not impressed.

Gotta hand it though, Boy can get some speed now. Holy crap. Hate to see XLR8 upgraded.

“We’ve only got one shot at this” Ben’s moving fast enough I think you’ve got a solid three or four

Gwen, Gwen are you having an existential crisis? He’s passed the moon, he’s not coming back down anytime soon.

Ben please

And Ben lost that game of chicken with the meteor, having swerved away at the last moment, presumably because the Omnitrix has the whole ‘you are not dying you fucker’ thing going on

And Ben has been flown right into a fucking vortex of some variety or another. Welp.

Thirty seconds until the meteor hits, nobody knows where Ben vanished too, Phil is resigned, Max is blank, and Gwen looks fucking haunted. Poor kid does not deserve this. She needs a vacation from this vacation too

Oh Gwen, baby

Welp, everyone is fairly certain Ben is dead. Good news is, you won’t outlast him by long the meteor should take out earth in about four seconds

Motherfuck- If you are going to just vanish can you not wait until one second before you’re supposed to hit a planet?!?! Fucking rude!!

Motherfucking Vilgax! I should’ve known! Only you would be so rude! Also how much shit was your little ramshackle pod encased in that it was mistaken for the largest meteor seen?

So, Vilgax is here on Earth and our only defense is Max, Gwen, and presumably Kevin. Either Kevin is going to tap into some pre-reboot murder instincts or shit is about to get bad.

Ben has been carried through the wormhole to, Kinet? I think that’s Kinet, give me a second- No! No it’s Petropia! Listen it’s been a while let me live. Why drop Ben here? wtf is going on?

Swimming through space because your ultra jetboots stopped working

Somebody is watching this child. Who? We know not.

Ben: *times out* Omnitrix: Fuck no *builds spacesuit*

Ben, worried he failed and doomed Earth. It’s okay, it was just Vilgax. Once you find your way back home it’ll all be good.

Sudden spaceship. Also is space just, purple? Is that what’s going on here?

Oh look, Incurseans. Hi.

Omnitrix takes a while to register an alien language and start translating, which makes sense that it would take a little bit for a translator like that to kick in, the tech trying to figure out what language is being spoken. Don’t think I’ve seen that before in a work, very nice. Also the language is literally Incursean so, that’s nice to know. Handy for someone like me.

...Ben is being arrested by the Incurseans for multiple violent crimes perpetrated across the universe. Did not expect that from them.

Also Azmuth, please explain to me what precisely you did with this watch before you threw it at Earth?

...How you could mistake Ben for Vilgax I do not know, but it’s nice to know it wasn’t Azmuth causing wanton destruction and chaos? I guess? This certainly explains how the bastard knew how the Omnitrix worked.

Takes Ben ten seconds of being amazed at and in love with the Omnitrix to register that they think he’s Vilgax.

The Incurseans know about Earth. I’m not sure if that’s a good, bad, or neutral thin in the reboot. The whole ‘arresting a fucker for crimes against the universe’ thing has thrown me off.

Ben plays along for a chance to escape, meanwhile you know Kevin would’ve snapped and argued and fought until they had to admit he couldn’t be Vilgax because Vilgax wouldn’t lower himself to biting.

(I mean it, look at that child and tell me he doesn’t bite)

Well, Ben almost escaped. Too bad Incurseans have those long-ass tongues

Humongasaur fighting an endless swarm of frogs

Ben just is having a day. Honestly it’s lucky Earth’s not going to get wrecked by a meteorite because otherwise he’d be fucked.

Team Tennysons is trying to track Ben down on Earth. Apparently Phil has found the Omnitrix’s signal and they’re tracking that. Three guesses who they’re about to find and the first two don’t count.

Phil: He crashed from space so he might be- Tennysons: Finish that sentence and die

Yeah, the red flashing doesn’t clue them in or anything

And the energy signature looks different. Gwen, darling, you are experienced enough to know exactly who you’re about to find in a cave in the middle of nowhere in the desert (because of-fucking-course, my goddamn disaster)

How is the red flashing not cluing you in? Ben is green, Kevin is red, and together they make one whole Christmas.

Kevin hauling ass, presumably either because something is wrong with his watch (my poor son) or because the Tennysons calling him Ben is freaking him out (my poor son) or both (my poor song)

Okay, Gwen, the tone wasn’t awful but still, was not nessecary to put that emphasis on ‘Kevin’ after the ‘it was just’. Alongside the almost aggravated look when you finally put the pieces together and realized it was him? I know you’re worried for Ben but come on. You hunted him down, he is innocent in everything.

Also can we talk about, something is clearly wrong? I guessed something was wrong with the watch, I think I was right- Kevin was groaning after timing out, holding his head, it’s not normal.

The first thing my son says is telling the Tennysons to get lost (quote “You heard him, hit the road” after Phil tells them to call him when they go back to their search), which isn’t surprising given the look on his face after Gwen’s ‘it was just Kevin’. Something is wrong and now he’s upset on top of that because, well, we know him and how he feels about not being appreciated.

Also holy shit the framing, with Kevin on top of a tall rock in an empty cave, with his back to the Tennysons, making up just a small part of the shot. Really emphasizing just how alone he is.

(Dear reboot give him his rat and prison-dad for fuck’s sake)

(Nobody sent me any ‘your response is gonna be fun’ messages, so I’m assuming I don’t get Kwarrel either, damnit. I can only hope for openings for later Kwarrel in the franchise)

Oh. Oh my son. Oh something has gone very wrong and he is shifting uncontrollably. He has isolated himself so nobody sees him like this. My baby. My precious little perfect child

Notice that he is shifting uncontrollably and he has still not taken off the watch, which would be the obvious answer to the dilemma. So why? Was he too busy freaking out to think of it? Or does on or off not matter anymore?

Tennysons: Why don’t you come along and let us help you? Kevin: Fuck you and your talking car too

“I built this. I should be able to control it.” Oh Kevin...

“And that’s amazing!” And Kevin has no fucking response (except to be a crushing wreck but, I’m deducting the half point and moving on). Praise? For his work? Is that legal?

My son. My heart.

“I didn’t do it all on my own. There was kinda this weird dream.” Said while he’s making his way down to the Tennysons because in the end all he needs is for someone to call him amazing, give him praise, notice him, appreciate him, acknowledge his worth.

The Tennysons recommend letting Phil help because he helped Ben and Kevin’s response is, quote “I’m. Not. Ben! And this isn’t the Omnitrix, it’s the Antitrix*.”

*First time Kevin’s watch has been referred to by that name in the show. Prior to this it was always called a watch or an Omnitrix.

There is so much fucking going on in Kevin tell me we’re learning some of it here I’m begging, give me the inner workings of my son

...pause a second, I don’t wanna look it up because I’m worried about spoilers, but does Kevin’s watch look different? The strap system is different, I’d swear it. Or maybe I’m wrong, it’s been a few days since a Kev episode...

Kevin pointing out that he’s not a Tennyson, denying ever doing anything to help them, wondering what their deal is, claiming they should hate him (my fucking son! someone get this child a dad and a rat, a blanket, some cocoa, and some fucking love and affection!)

By the way, I’m almost 20 minutes in and it’s been over two hours. Kevin is here now, things are probably gonna start going slower.

The Tennysons letting Kevin know they don’t hate him. Max straight up saying he doesn’t seem like a bad kid, just a lost one. Which honestly is very true, he is a good child he just doesn’t really... he’s a mess and there is so much in him and so much of it sour and just- He needs love. Proper, healthy love and guidance by someone who’ll look out for him, put his needs first. It’s why I want Kwarrel back- he, Gar, and reboot!Max have treated Kevin the best, been the most healthy adult interactions he’s had, through the franchise. Kwarrel could be the adult figure he needs in his life, but he got the one episode and nothing and just- I just want the best for Kevin.

“If you trust us, we’ll trust you.” And then Kevin agreeing to come along as long as his watch gets fixed.

Oh gods the smile as he follows them! Like, a moment of happiness for the child!

Vilgax set a city on fire. I take it he’s in a mood.

Yep. Definitely in a mood. Also how the fuck did you get out of the Null Void?

Oh look, we’re back with Ben. Honestly the least interesting part of this movie right now, though I love him.

Although I gotta admit, I never would’ve guessed the Omnitrix being used for a mistaken identity plot like this.

...okay unless he was thrown in the Null Void before you can’t charge him with that he was thrown in unlawfully. Or at least one would hope so. This is space so, the laws have been pretty fucked up in earlier series.

Y’all so not know the joy when you see “How do you plead” and go ‘he pleads not fucking Vilgax’ and then you hit play and Ben’s plea is “not Vilgax”.

Ben is fucking tired of people treating him like he’s Vilgax and you can’t rightly blame him.

Oh, look, Walkatrout. Hi guys! Nice to see you!

Oooo, hello spider-like babies! One second guys I gotta get you a screenshot!

I love them.

Also check out these fuckers!

Seems everybody and their mother is here to see this shit go down

Hi Tetrax. Care to tell us why you are here as a witness for the prosecution?

Welp, can’t see this going well

Tetrax, you lying shit, what is your angle? You have got to have something to gain from this.

Tetrax, describing Ben: “It’s like- It’s like a squishy little sack of organs held together with hair. And it’s head is enormous.”

Ben’s making another break for it

“-these are not the actions of the hero you claim to be-” Hmmmmmmmmmmm

Don’t sentence him to the Null Void you already know Vilgax can get out!

I’m impressed by how much these people believe in Vilgax’s acting skills. Like the fact that he’s acting nothing like himself and in fact 100% like the small child he appears to be only proves that he’s a good actor and not that, ya know, maybe they should check and see if they actually did grab somebody’s kid by accident. I mean it’s not like shapechanging watches are a one-and-done deal, a fucking 11-yo made one

And Ben gets dropped through a portal to, somewhere. It certainly doesn’t look like the Null Void.

Poor crying baby

“You don’t deserve to wield the Omnitrix, it belongs with it’s creator- me.” Oh fuck off, Azmuth. You let a squid have it for fuck’s sake.

Phil studying the Antitrix. Apparently the energy signature is very sporadic, but seems familiar.

Solar, Polar, please, we’ve got shit going on. Important Antitrix information. Could you not take a vacation? Take your mother to Disney World or something?

They’re at the fucking house because Phil has the most powerful radio tower in the country. Of course.

The Tennysons sent Kevin outside to handle them and he’s just standing in the yard watching them and eating chips. Telling them to shove off so his shit can get fixed. How is he not the most popular character in this franchise? Has he not earned a fucking spin-off?

Fucking Dark Matter running through the twins like tissue paper

Gwen, a firm believer in the art of ‘Kevin needs to fucking chill’.

My son sees cops and bolts. Nobody is surprised, given his everything. Honestly it’s probably the safest bet he’s got in anything in life- avoid cops.

“Whoever you saw on those security cameras it wasn’t me!” Kevin what did you do?

Is shocked to find the cops aren’t there for him, my poor son.

Kevin: *is just barely compared to Ben* This cannot be allowed to stand

“Proud? Of me?” Y’all the look on his face! My son!

Like he’s not entirely sure if this is legal but he’s not about to look it in the face! My baby!

Vilgax! Hello! I knew you and my son were both going to be here so I saved you a spot in the pit! Reserved seating, as it were

Fuck off, squid-boy, the kid built the watch fair and square!

Oh gods, tell me the ‘Vilgax was involved in the dream situation’ theory isn’t being proven here

Also the look on Kevin’s face when he’s noting having seen Vilgax before, somewhere between ‘wait a minute’ and ‘you, you are the one I must kill’

He was in the dream and my boy is freaked.

“Used you as a vessel to finally complete my own design” Vilgax you gave the child a dream with a blueprint in it. There is only so much credit you can give yourself. How did you even do that? Is this some new Chimera Sui Generis thing? Superstrength, tentacles, laser eyes, and fucking dreamwalking?

Is the Freddy Kruger of squid

As I said designing the piece means nothing if you go handing out the design to whoever. You can still patent the shit, maybe, but you can’t claim that whatever people made with said pretty-much-opensource design is your property.

Vilgax: It’s my design, give it to me Kevin: Fight me bitch

Kevin ‘Fight Me’ Levin

Ya know, I always though FD would be Kevin’s first kill but honestly it might be Vilgax.

I love him so much you guys. He is the most precious thing ever.

Kicks Vilgax’s arm as he’s going tor the watch, backflips away, perfect landing and out to kick ass

Vilgax if you wanted a kid who would just hand the watch over when you showed up maybe you shouldn’t have handed the design off to the most obstinate, anti-authoritarian, ‘you don’t tell me what to do’ child on the face of the planet Earth. You’d have probably had an easier time getting shit from Looma.

Poor gay couple who just got a car through the roof of their new house

Vilgax can talk shit all he likes, but Kevin is putting up a good fight. That’s another thing he maybe should’ve kept in mind, maybe don’t choose the kid who was doing perfect backflips presumably before he even got the stupid dream.

Okay, Ben is in the Null Void. They’ve tidied the place up since the OG series

Hello, species whose name I can’t remember off the top of my head. Good advice for the child thank you

Oh look, a Loboan, hello

There’s a whole mess of peeps. Including an Ectonurite, Vulpimancer, and Pisciss Volann

Dudes you already know Vilgax wants the watch why do you want to get his attention by getting it your own damn selves? It’s more trouble than it’s worth honestly.

These guys need to chill.

Yeeeep, deeefinitely need to chill

Ya know, Azmuth, if you wanted to show up and take your watch back? Now would be a good time? There’s a whole load of people here vying for it, earn the damn thing.

Hmmmm

Azmuth. Darling. Why are you in the Null Void? Why are you so firmly in the Null Void that fuckers know you and bend to your commands? The fuck did you do?

Everybody is talking shit about Ben today. He’s ten, let the child live!

Ben, out to kick Azmuth’s ass because he thinks he works for Vilgax because let’s be real, he’s had a fucking day and is also literally ten

Azmuth, just a rampaging dick wherever you find him

Also he has the Omnitrix back now

Jesus fuck, I just really want somebody to come step on Azmuth. Like, Vilgax is a dick but that’s his job, Azmuth is just, a fucking dick.

Azmuth you cannot talk about Ben being an infant and then turn around and say he should’ve known to kill Vilgax. He is a child.

Le gasp. Vilgax was Azmuth’s student. I’m going to assume you got thrown in here for not killing him your own damn self?

Benjamin Kirby Tennyson, annoying Azmuth into telling him the story of wtf happened with him and Vilgax

Young-Azmuth here is just, an image I never needed in my life. Give me Blukic and Driba back

Young Vilgax with goggles

And, shocker, Vilgax went ‘science is great but I can do you one better- universal domination’

Wow, Azmuth. Ya know if you’d had any braincells sufficiently developed you’d have known to kill him.

Azmuth. If you could have maybe one manner. A single etiquette.

Also, really? Sending the Omnitrix to Earth was the only option? You couldn’t destroy it now that it’s true destructive potential was known? Recode the damn thing to stricter parameters in a new coding language? Nothing else? Greatest mind in the universe and you couldn’t think of something, anything, besides sending it to a planet that would’ve been completely helpless if Vilgax had managed to get his hands back on it?

Ben: Okay, fuck you and your watch then, I’ll just go beat Vilgax myself Azmuth: Wait what?

Azmuth has set Ben a trial. You know the one, the ‘reach me within this time frame’ shit. If he passes he gets to keep the Omnitrix.

Attempt 1: No shapeshifting Attempt 2: Rath into Humongasaur

Attempt 3 starts with him having managed to end up outside of the trail area entirely

Azmuth is just a fucking dick. Ben points out that his entire goal is to save his planet from Vilgax, Azmuth blows it off because the fact Ben has his life’s work is more important. Gods just, being reminded how big a dick Azmuth is...

Azmuth, please keep in mind that the child is in fact a child

Ben and Kevin need to make friends so Kev can teach him some moves, he’d have kicked this Ectonurite in the head by now

Ben Tennyson, professional Good Child, saves the fucker that’s been giving him shit.

Ben figuring out new ways to use the Omnitrix and unlocking Goop!

Gods, Azmuth, now you gotta shittalk Goop too? Now you’re just being a speciest dick.

Ben saves a fucker, a fucker who’s been nothign but a shit to him, just barely fails the trial, and breaks down over not managing to beat it and save Earth. He’s so good you guys.

“Color me surprised that altruism still exists in this reality” you don’t get to make comments like that when you’ve been nothing but a dick the entire time you’ve been on screen

Azmuth has given Ben more time and a way out of the Null Void. Because it’s Azmuth, of course he’d rather stay there and wallow in his own bullshit that actually go out into the universe and do something about the problems he started.

Don’t waste your breath on him, Ben, he doesn’t deserve it

Dude he saved is now a Ben fan.

And Ben takes a sidetrip to save the Incurseans from a giant Null Void portal

And back on Earth Kevin is still putting a fight. He’s not winning, but he’s still fighting because he is a precious disaster.

The Tennysons trying to get it through his obstinate, broken little brain that he can accept help (and also that just because Ben does it doesn’t mean he has to refuse just to keep himself distinct from him (I am wording this badly but, I can’t word it right just now...))

It doesn’t work.

My son. Vilgax ain’t even tired and Kevin is but he’s still holding his own.

Holy shit Phil has a living room

And Gwen has become a hostage. Good job drawing attention to yourself kiddo.

Yes Gwen, bite the squid! It’s not doing anything but I appreciate the enthusiasm and the fighting back!

She hardly even counts as a hostage, Kevin went to straight punch Vilgax and the dude just threw her away. At least use her as a fucking shield!

“You must be under the impression that you are special, when in reality you were only good for one thing.” 1) Yeah, building what you couldn’t. 2) Kevin is a brilliant artist and engineer, good at athletics, with a natural talent for magic, all on top of a good sense of humor and a smile like the fucking sun, HE IS WORTH TEN OF YOU

Also, so far the movie has given me no reason to believe that he was given any parts or tools with which to build this watch so, on top of all that, all my earlier points still stand so far as far as Kevin being better than fucking Tony Stark with machinery. Is that why you threw the design at this foul-tempered, stubborn little thing, Vilgax? Not because you’re an idiot and he could build it, but because he’s the only one who could? I’ve seen no proof against it yet.

Okay giving us that, that fucking view of him after being tossed, fucking skipping over the asphalt, was not nessecary!!!

My son...

My son....

You did great sweetie! You were amazing!

My son.... My poor, battered, exhausted, son....

Also the fact that he straight up says he’ll try again later, which is just- I don’t doubt it. I don’t doubt he will wake up and immediately upon realizing his watch is gone head out to fight Vilgax again.

The fucking K on the antitrix turning into a V is aggravating for pit-related reason but also very thematically appropriate

Vilgax fucking chimerized himself. Fuck off, that’s Kevin’s thing. Just all about stealing from children

Vilgax steals his chimerism shtick and Kevin immediately starts regaining consciousness. My child

Extra toothy mouths too?! Fucking chill, squid-boy!

Kevin is up and moving and everyone is fleeing a pissed Vilgax in the Rustbucket. He is now on the hunt for Ben

Vilgax is, really putting them through the wringer and Kevin is not happy.

And Kevin, once they’re at Vilgax’s mercy, runs off to start shit once again with the fucker. Because my child is perfect.

He has hijacked fucking Glitch! Of course he has! My child! Harness the fucking Glitch!

He and Glitch, luring Vilgax away with ease because this man handles disrespect worse than Kev does.

The Rustbucket is scrap, but Phil might have an option.

And we’re back to Ben. When last we left him he’d worn himself out saving the Incurseans, straight passing out, and now, now we’re back to him.

The Incurseans saved him, and are apologizing for starting shit. Which is better than they were in past iterations so honestly I’m happy with them.

Incursean leader: You have legal permission to apprehend Vilgax Ben: I don’t know how to get home IL: We’ll take you Incursean Otherdude: We can’t enter warpdrive Ben: What about that wormhole I took before? IO: ...that would work IL: Great, let’s go!

They are going to scour the ship for Tetrax so they can bring him in for falsely accusing a 10-yo hero of being Vilgax

Back to the Best Boy and Glitch fucking psychoanalysing my child as someone who uses an abrasive attitude to ward of people who may hurt him but at heart is a good person

“Listen, if there’s anything I know, it’s how to adapt and survive. If anyone can deal with being alone with Captain Calamari out here, it’s me.” My son!!

And they’re caught. Somebody give Kevin a crowbar or something.

Holy shit Glitch sacrificed himself to give Kevin a shot! Fucking hell! That, I think that may earn back the half point lost for the Gwevin. Sacrificing yourself to save my son earns a lot.

Oh you did not just call my son sniveling and pathetic. You didn’t. You get the special pit with FD.

My boy is crying. My boy is crying. A squid is going to die. Thou shalt not suffer a Vilgax to live.

The first person to get me a picture of Vilgax being torn apart by Kevin 11k gets a drabble.

Glitch! Giving my boy the aid and encouragement he needs in this moment! You definitely get the half point!

Kevin, like Ben, is having A Day.

Did, did Glitch and Kevin just fucking biomerge? Taking my son up a notch? Oh yesss

Glitch has been working on becoming armor for Ben but, well, Kevin needs it right now and it did need a testrun. Kevin is so happy to get to use it first. Seriously I don’t know what happened in their backstory but, damn

My boy

Welp

Back to Ben and Tetrax really should’ve been ready to bail, taking so long is just unprofessional.

Azmuth paid Tetrax to lie in court. Raise your hand if you’re surprised. Nobody. I’m shocked.

Ben is letting Tetrax go because he’s like 60% certain he helped in the long run

*snort* Okay, like that fourth wall break.

Kevin and Glitch, still fighting Vilgax, to the surprise of nobody given Kevin does not cannot will not stop fighting

They work well together, they really do. Glitch is more entertaining when he’s actually working off somebody rather than trying to just, be his own thing.

Ben cannot catch a break today

The Tennysons in an actual car plus Kevin and Glitch, all fighting Vilgax together because fuck it, better than going it alone right now

There’s still another twelve minutes.

My son. My Son. “A pity you didn’t stand down while you still had the chance.” “I’d rather go all-in and end up squashed than stand around and let some slab of squid jerky like you stand around and take over the planet.”

Ben is back on Earth and ready to join the fray. Sorry Squiddly but there is no chance in hell you can handle Kevin and Ben at the same time. Actually I’m fairly certain Kevin’s not gonna end up a Tennyson half because of this fucking obsession with Gwevin and half because Kevin and Ben as family would end the universe all on it’s own.

The fact Kevin then proceeded to call him Squidly just makes this day better.

A lot has happened since you left, Ben. Everyone has been having A Time.

And Vilgax smacks Kevin away, doing that final bit of damage to take Glitch out of the fight. Which means Kevin is out of the fight, or at least will be in a minute because honestly I’ll be surprised if nobody sits on him after that last stunt he pulled.

We’ve got nine minutes, let’s see if Vilgax can stand up against Ben, especially after all the fighting he’s already been doing. Neither of them is fresh, but Ben is fresher.

Vilgax is kicking ass so far. C’mon Ben, use Goop!

My son! Acting like he’s not worth saving because he can’t be useful. I am going to hunt down his father and the FD and destroy them both.

Glitch can drain the car and start repairs. The Tennysons are being helpful and Good.

My baby! He is just, confidence has plummeted. Kevin, baby, you are the best thing on this show! You are amazing!

Max, pointing out that Kevin managed to hold off Vilgax on his own, and that he and Ben together can kick his ass. Phil backing it up with a ‘the world needs you right now’.

Yesss, support for my son, this is all I want in this world

“Stand back, I’m going after my watch.” What did I tell you. He’s getting that fucking watch back if he has to eat Vilgax to do it. He worked hard on that thing!

Glitch is falling the fuck apart, Ben is down, Vilgax is about to win, and Kevin is not looking like he’s about to stop anytime soon.

MY BOY!!!!! MY FUCKING SON!!!! THE PERFECT BEING!!!!!!

He dove at Vilgax as he was about to use the Omnitrix’s key to unlock more power for the Antitrix and managed to snatch it back from the bastard! Because! He! Is! Perfect!

Vilgax has still gotten what so far seems to be a net positive effect, but at least he doesn’t have the watch

He thinks he’s Jafar

Vilgax standing there monologuing about his own greatness and Kevin just calls him a doofus and launches at him as Bashmouth

Then straight to CrystalFist when caught to make vilgax let him go, he’s amazing.

Ben catches him as he plummets, fully armored up, it’s time for these boys to wreck some squid shit.

Vilgax just keeps fucking growing. We’ve only got like five minutes left in the movie, just stop.

Kevin just, no hesitation. He is going to fight a giant squid so help him god

Welp. They managed to land some blows.

The boys have been taken out, Team Tennyson is at Ben’s side. “Glitch is- is gone.” “What about Kevin?” “I don’t know, Vilgax hit him pretty hard.“

Phil. Phil what the fuck are you hiding? You are hiding something and so help me if it could’ve helped my boy earlier I will-

Kevin and Azmuth need to meet because Kevin needs to punt him.

Oh look, the frog-bitch is out of the Null Void and bothering the Incurseans. They don’t deserve this, they’re good people.

Oh look, Ben has unlocked Waybig. Fitting, I suppose.

It’s gonna be a curbstomp fight, there’s only a few minutes left and we still need to wrap this movie up. Hopefully confirm my son is alive.

I was right. Good fight, still very quick. And now we gotta deal with fucking Azmuth again.

And, shocker, Ben gets to keep the watch.

Okay, we have confirmation Kevin at least limped away. He was alive as of the end of this film.

11/11 thanks to quality Kevin content and Glitch finally earning my respect. I’m still serious about the Vilgax thing though- first person, a reboot drabble of their choosing.

#achi liveblogs #ben 10 2.os #ben 10 #ben 10 versus the universe

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inosuketingz · 4 years

Text

the sheets are stained with blood [p.3]

PART ONE PART TWO [ PART THREE ] PART FOUR Victor Zsasz x fem!Reader Warning: language, violence, blood and spoilahs 4 Birds of Prey Word Count: 1125 Tag: @itsknife2meetu A/N: Aaaand we are back!! I kinda forgot to mention in my previous parts that my fic touches upon an unreqruited romance between Zsasz and Roman bc I am a(n): a) idiot b) pendeja c) dumbass d) all of the above. Again, feel free to ask if you’d like to be tagged in future parts <3 This is legit my first fic I’ve posted online and I’m really loving where this is going

You hold back a gag as Hyunwoo lets out a gut wrenching scream. Your only job today is to keep an eye on Victor, something you thought would be cake. But, it’s turning out to be a bit more difficult than you imagined.

“Answer the fucking question!” Zsasz yells into the man’s face, knife digging deeper into his face. “Where is it?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know, I don’t know!” Hyunwoo cries and you cross your arms.

“Bullshit,” Zsasz insists and his hand begins to etch the knife higher, drawing a red line as it moves. Like he aches to peel the skin off the man’s head. He’s more than willing to ignore Hernando del Rey’s orders to leave Hyunwoo alive.

You get up from leaning against the office desk and clutch the blood silver necklace around your neck.

“Zsasz, stop!” And, like clockwork, he’s motionless. Last night, after you escorted— or forced— the scarred man out of your apartment, you utilized the towels he plugged his wounds with to make a Blood Pendant. That has become your signature ‘weapon’ to the mainstream media. One drop off blood onto the pendant and you can order around the person it belongs to.

You approach Hyunwoo and squat next to Victor who wears an expression of confusion.

“What the hell did you do?” He mutters in a raspy voice.

“Something I should’ve done the moment we got here.”

Hyunwoo winces when you grab onto his dyed blue hair and pull his face closer to yours. “Hernando gave you the keys to his yacht. So, obviously, you know where you put it. And if you lost them, I can’t promise that you’ll be put through any less pain than if we find out you’re lying.”

The man’s eyes dart to a shelf at the right end of the office. “Please, promise you I have no clue where they are. Look, my kids are still in the other room—” You drop his head before he could end his sentence. That’s all you needed to see.

Your reach for the pendant again, this time telling Zsasz to come on. Victor lets out a sigh of relief as his body returns to its normal mobility. You head to the shelf and Zsasz follows, though not before he plants a hard kick to the Korean man’s stomach.

“Don’t ever do that shit again, do you fucking hear me? I don’t get controlled.” He whispers against your ear and you feel a shiver run its slow fingers down your spine.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You feign cluelessness. “I didn’t know there were statutes of morality between us now.” He grunts in response.

You bring your attention back to the large shelf. You face spines of books and nothing else. The titles not written in Hangul described statistics, business and other boring shit.

“The keys are somewhere here,” you say.

“How do you know?”

You take a quick glimpse over your shoulder to make sure Hyunwoo is still on the floor, tied by his restraints. “He looked over here while I was talking to him, duh. Aren’t you supposed to be super smart?”

“Cum laude, baby girl.” Zsasz winks and you roll your eyes. You couldn’t care less about his Ivy League adventures. “And I was too busy dealing with paralysis to notice.”

“Quit being a baby and look.” You power through hardbacks upon hardbacks, hoping you’d open one and the keys would fall out. Victor watches you do this with a little smile on his face. You turn over and bark “Start looking, asshole!”

He laughs, but does what you say. After last night’s shenanigans, you were ready to get this deal over with. You’ve met with plenty of Wonder Woman’s rogues in the past, but none of them creeped you out the way these Gotham villains do, let alone Victor Zsasz. You could barely get a grasp of what was going on in his head. One second he wants to gut you, the next he’s gripping your thighs and reminding you of the time you two slept together. To top it all off, you still have no clue how he managed to get into your room.

Today has been no better. You’re wearing a tight turtleneck and skinny jeans, and you’ve caught him catching glances at your ass and breasts on plenty occasions.

Victor pulls out a thick mystery novel from the bottom shelf and a shiny silver key slips out, clinking against the marble floor.

His cheeks pull back as he grins, revealing his steel crowns. He picks it up and turns to face Hyunwoo who groans.

“It looks like we got a little liar on our hands,” He mocks.

“Fuck, I’m sorry!” Hyunwoo cries as Zsasz saunters closer to him. “You guys said you couldn’t kill me!”

“I won’t kill you. I’m just gonna fuck you up bad enough that your kids will live with nightmares when they enter and see you.” He kneels closer to him and you shove your hands into your pockets.

“I’m gonna be in the car.”

~ ~ ~

It takes over an hour for Zsasz to finally come out of Hyunwoo’s mansion. His clothes are clean, the white ASOS sweater left unstained, but his hands are tinted pink and give you a clue of what he got done doing.

He opens the car door and slips into the driver seat. Victor drops del Rey’s key onto your lap and starts the car.

“Y’know, if we’re gonna be Gotham’s new dynamic duo, you’re gonna have to stop bossing me around,” he sounds cheerful, giddy, as he speaks. Like a suburban husband talking to his housewife.

You press your forehead against the window. “We’re not a damn team. And don’t you belong to somebody else? What was his name? Roman See-ah-nis, or something?”

Victor freezes.

“Then Harley Quinn blew his ass up, right?” You look at him.

For the first time, you see pain in his eyes. His eyebrows scrunch up and his eyes go big— like a puppy dog. You struck a nerve. Good.

“Don’t say his name,” he orders.

“Don’t break into my apartment,” you counter.

His face shifts into that of anger. Unhinged anger. “I do whatever the fuck I want. Do you hear me? You don’t tell me what to do. If I want to break into your ugly ass apartment, I will. If I want to kill a man, I will. You are not in control. I don’t need you. You need me—”

He’s cut off when the bolt of a crossbow stabs into the front window of his car.

#victor zsasz x reader #victor zsasz #chris messina #birds of prey #zsasz #bop zsasz #birds of prey and the fantabulous emancipation of one harley quinn #bop #victor zsasz imagine #chris messina x reader

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katcadecascade · 4 years

Text

Storybook for the Gods

Fair Game Week: AU/Freeday

God AU

Ao3

They say the gods left to become the stars in the sky.

They say the gods obeyed the Brothers Grimm, agreeing that humanity was a failure.

They say the gods died and their children are doing a horrible job.

Qrow says that everyone should just shut up.

It’s one thing for the world to contain monsters and magic but no. Humanity loves, hates, fears, and respects the new religions the left over gods have made.

The Remnant Gods as they’ve been titled.

Technically demigods as good old Oz would describe but that doesn’t change the fact that the chain of godhood falls onto their shoulders.

Qrow can only speak for Vale’s side of the story, the dominion of the great and powerful Odin where he bestowed powers to his own children as he goes on his own journey for research and wisdom.

But nowadays he goes by Ozpin, the only old god that didn’t abandon the new gods of Remnant.

Qrow can understand why the god changed his name. No one would think a scholarly dressed old man is secretly the god of Vale, wielding a cane and not a spear. Disguises are necessary now that civilizations are slowly rioting against the Remnant Gods.

Tensions are as high as ever what with mortal heroes rising and fighting in the name of their people and not in the name of any of the gods. Qrow can’t blame them, Hell, he was once one of them.

Not anymore ever since Oz saved his life.

If Qrow had to pick a god to owe a life debt with, Odin had to be the best pick of the batch. No way was Qrow going end up in servitude for Horus, that war god has been raging Vacuo’s deserts for centuries. He did hear rumors that Fuji was still a beloved god, distance as she was ever since she chosen a mountain as her vessel.

Another elder god is from the north but no one has heard a peep from him in nearly a millennium.

That is until today.

Qrow is a relatively a new asset of dear old Oz, just shy of having a decade’s worth of experience under his belt as Odin’s black bird. So he wasn’t expecting much when he was flying through a winter coated forest.

The mission for the year is to find this rouge Valkyrie, rumored to be harboring souls away from their designated afterlife. As the crow flew above the dark trees, looking for any sign of the whisky sparkles of souls detaching from their bodies, a sudden cold breeze hit his face and along with it, a scroll.

It’s not often paper mail is delivered this way, nature spirits keep to their selves or to nature gods. Somehow a winter spirit by the chill of it knew who Qrow worked for and on the edge of the rolled paper was a cursive address of ‘To Odin’

Ominous, not quite, suspicious, only to his birdbrain but curious, oh he definitively is.

Flying back to the cottage, miles away from the rest of the forest and small towns still growing, Qrow keeps the letter in his peak, its edges flapping wilding in the cold winds.

As if already aware, Oz is waiting at the doorstep. His arm up as Qrow took his landing with ease.

It took two attempts for the god to nab the paper from the bird having fun playing keep away.

“Very funny Qrow,” Ozpin chided, finally getting the scroll.

As he unrolls it, Qrow hops off and wills his feathers back into skin, a rush of shivers getting his bones into its original shape. He dusts off stray feathers out of his hair, “Got it from the northern winds. Do you know what that means?”

“Nicholas,” he answers, his eyebrows knitting together, “he needs us in Atlas immediately.”

“Wait us?” Qrow peeks over the god’s shoulder and sure enough the letter is asking for Qrow by his title, Muninn.

Now that’s pretty curious. Gods don’t often seek help from other gods of a different dominion. Usually they get it through their own pantheon and even that is a hassle.

Just look at what happened between Thor and Loki.

“A magical shapeshifter isn’t exactly a secret among gods,” Oz explained. “Making two in this new world is even more of a gossip.”

Oh yeah, he didn’t take in account of Huginn’s rogue status. Raven is probably making waves in Mistral right now.

Still though, there are only a handful of people Qrow introduced himself as Muninn. A few of them were Oz’ old friends but also two humans he and Raven befriended.

Last he checked, Taiyang and Summer are on a sea expedition in the Burning Ocean.

Yeah, Qrow decided not to go with them for obvious flaming reasons.

So now he’s pondering over on why the son of Atlas is asking for him and his patron god for a visit.

“We’re taking the express trip right?”

“You’re always so eager for a fast travel.”

“What, do you expect me to flap all the way to Atlas?” Qrow flaps his human limps.

“As amusing as that is, no,” Oz chuckled. He pockets the letter and holds up his cane, “Nicholas needs us now.”

The intricate clockwork mechanism in the cane’s handle winds up and it ticks loudly as a green light pulses between the weapon and its creator’s hands.

As rune circles appeared below their feet, Qrow giddily bounces on his feet.

This was always his favorite part.

A rainbow of colors consumes the god and the shapeshifter and all they can feel is pulsating brightness as their entire beings are flying through the sky.

In a matter of seconds, Qrow and Ozpin find their selves at the foot of a temple built upon the highest mountain of the northern lands.

Only the oldest of gods know of this place ever since the real Olympus was tarnished when their namesakes left. The ruins of Olympus only had one resident, a power older than most gods.

The last son of Atlas has the power of a titian but its strength is a mere tale since the old man rarely leaves the mountain peak. Qrow may not know the reasons but it must be similar to Oz’ own lifestyle.

Elder gods have increasingly become isolated from the world, leaving the Remnant gods with all the pleasures and pains of warding over humans. It’s a hassle really, getting devoted to or smiting usurpers or whatever. Again, Qrow can’t relate since his god chose to live in a cottage in the middle of nowhere.

This lonely damaged temple is Nicholas’ choice and honestly it is a nice view.

Ignoring the Olympians’ rumble, there is a grand stone staircase that curves into the mountainside, covered in chilly fog as it dives down. Beyond that is the view of the tundra of Mantle, a white slate with dots of cities.

Qrow is very tempted to go free falling into the clouds, feel the wind rush at him as his heart races. He can picture it now, falling as a human only to shift into feathers right as the world is nearing.

“It’s not the time for that Muninn,” Oz lectured, lightly whacking his cane at Qrow’s leg.

Muninn, he’s only referred to that title when they have company.

Tearing his gaze away from the clouds, the thrill of flying, Qrow looks at the only temple left standing.

Walking out of the temple of Atlas’ son are two men.

The tall one of black hair is easily recognized by his lighting blue eyes. James, the son of Zeus and is also a major stick in the ass according to Qrow.

“It’s good to see you, Odin,” James greeted but his tone is always so grim and serious. His eyes narrow at Qrow, “Why did you bring your pet?”

“Hey, I got invited by name,” Qrow huffed, straightening his back to have some sense of pride. It still doesn’t compare to James’ height but it’s the intention that counts.

Qrow doesn’t care if James is a demigod turned Remnant God, he can still match his speed no matter the wind pressure. Hell, James is not the only god to question Qrow’s power as a former mortal.

Speaking of mortals, Qrow notices the second guy, someone he distinctly recalls meeting at the piers of Midpass, “Wait, hold up, you’re that boat guy.”

A chuck passes through pink lips, lightening up his teal eyes, “That’s not my official title but yeah, that’s me.” The brunet holds his hand out, “I’m Clover, son of Poseidon.”

“Yep,” Qrow shakes his hand, “boat guy for sure.”

From the humble smile and adorable cheeks, Qrow innocently mistook this guy as mortal. He didn’t elude power like James or Oz and instead just came off as a regular fisherman.

A cute one at that since Qrow, day drinking with his friends, threw a bunch of flirts at Clover.

That’s probably why he didn’t clue in the fact that Clover suddenly appeared before them right as Summer and Tai were boat shopping for their expedition.

“I knew you were a pretty bird but I didn’t think you’d be the Muninn as well,” Clover winked.

“I’m just full of surprises,” Qrow shrugged off, “something Jimmy here can attest to.”

James grumbles, “Let’s go inside already, Nicholas has waited enough.”

Due to pride alone, James walks ahead with Ozpin at his side.

Clover follows with Qrow, as if he’s more interesting than an ancient Greek temple, “So you’re really Muninn? That’s amazing, there are so many stories about you and you’ve only been a god for a decade or so.”

“Technically I’m not a god,” he corrected before James could but in, “I just serve under Odin.”

“Not all the time right? I thought you’d be traveling with your friends.”

“Nope,” he popped, looking around the temple’s interior.

It’s all white pillars and high ceilings. The place has typical fancy architecture that scholars would die for even if there are some dust and dirt here or there.

Qrow continues, “If I went with them then their ride would definitely fall off the ends of the world or fall into the river Styx.”

“What does that mean?”

He ignores the concern from Clover as they enter the last room. It’s set up as an altar room where a stage is under a skylight. On the stage is Nicholas, the son of Atlas, and a pale woman with white, shimmering hair.

“Welcome all of you,” Nicholas nods with a sad smile, “I and Fria thank you all for coming.”

“Nicholas, is something wrong?” James immediately asks, the room dipping a few degrees colder, “This is about the storms in the west yes? I knew there is something coming from the horizon, I can feel it and-“

A heavy laugh stops the lightning god. Nicholas’ smile grows just a bit, “You focus too much on bad news, James.”

“Someone has to,” James side glances at Clover.

He shrugs, grinning innocently, “I just think you purposely give yourself dark clouds.”

“That was one time, Clover.”

“Yeah and it nearly flooded Athens.”

Qrow has twin instincts to laugh at James but also be terrified at the casual mention of how he almost flooded a populated city. These gods and their temper tantrums really are ridiculous, even more so if humanity suffers from it.

Oz taps down his cane, gaining everyone’s attention, “So why are we here, Nicholas?” His eyes shifted to Fria, “Although I’m starting to understand.”

The woman beams and suddenly a veil of frost coat her hair as she grasps Nicholas’ big hands. Her own hands are small and decorated with frostbite but their held hands brings a warm feeling to the room.

“We’re getting married,” Fria announces, a loving gaze on her fiancé as they nudge closer together, “but we want something more than that.”

“We plan to start a family,” Nicholas explains and now the tension in the room is back as the guests realized just who these parents-to-be are.

A child between these two would have the lineage of a titan, a being far superior to a god, and, from the looks of it, a winter spirit.

Qrow recognizes Fria now, her winter powers eluding off of her effortlessly. It is that same breeze that found him and that coldness still clung to him as he stares at the faery.

“That’s too dangerous,” James warns with a thunder in his core.

Clover grounds his cousin with a steady hand on his arm, “They know that and,” teal eyes trace over to Oz, “you asked for Odin to do something about this right?”

The wise god of Vale steps onto the stage, looking wearier than Qrow has ever seen him.

“You’re both giving up your godhood,” the old man said.

“We want to be human,” Nicholas corrects.

Qrow blinks, “Oh.”

That’s something he has never expected to hear. A titan and a faery want to become human to protect their future child from infinite power and consequences.

For Qrow he gave up his humanity to protect himself, well that’s what he claimed after Raven left him. He believed that working for Ozpin would further help humanity or so he hopes.

Muninn built up a name as an omen to malice but Qrow recently sees he’s a harbinger as well. Maybe it was the powers or some part of Qrow that amplified the moment he swore oath to Odin. There has been a trail of bad luck following him.

His only solution is to stray away from humanity, protect them from a distance as Oz has done.

Now before him are two ancient beings deciding to give up their powers and live in a world where humans are slowly thinking for their selves, where the gods are no longer their priority. Instead their priorities are their families.

That is what Nicholas and Fria want.

Oz nods gravely, “Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Wait what?” Clover questioned.

“Of course,” James bitterly concludes, “If Odin can grant power to mortals,” he gestures to Qrow and then James nervously gulps, “then he could do the reverse for his fellow gods.”

Okay, from that perspective that sounds terrifying, Qrow thinks, but this is Ozpin they’re talking about. The old man has spent eons making mistakes with humans and gods and other magical beings but has chosen to repeat for it all.

For some reason Qrow is one of the first things Ozpin saves and for that Qrow trusts him forever.

“I’m not that great and powerful,” Oz assures, smiling kindly at James.

James does the quietest relieved sighs.

“Or am I?” Oz notes humorously.

An angry noise comes out of James, his shocked and fearful face making Qrow laugh out loud.

Ozpin returns the conversation back to the couple, “I can do it but your powers will have to go somewhere because I for sure won’t take it for my own.”

“We thought of that,” Fria nods. “The sky is a fitting place to place winter and strength into it. I’m going ahead and naming it an aurora, after my mother.”

“It’ll be lovely,” Nicholas agrees and then the couple turns to Qrow, “and there’s one last thing too.”

With everyone’s attention on Qrow, he has the sudden need to fly away before something awkward or unfortunate happens, “Um, hi?”

“You’re Muninn, the Bird of Memory,” he announces and since Qrow blinks and points at himself, still confused, the son of Atlas clarifies, “We want to forget our godhood. You can take them away.”

“What?” He, Clover, and James practically yell.

“He can do that?” James baulks.

“You can do that?” Clover awes.

“I can do that?” Qrow nearly chokes on his spit.

Oz, helpful as he is, only shrugged, “Well that is a theory now.”

“Please,” Fria begs, walking over to the shapeshifter. Snowflakes trail behind her as she reaches Qrow and takes his hands into her cold ones, “We’re tired of this eternity we wait in and once we become humans we can actually start living.”

Her eyes look just like that tundra their temple views over, cold and clean and goes on for miles filled with emptiness. Fria barely reaches Qrow’s shoulders but there is an ancient power in her being that makes Qrow shiver.

It would be a mistake to think of her as human with the snow on top of her robes and how her hair is literally a mist of frost. Yet the gentle slope of her face reminds Qrow so much of his tribal Chief. Both lived a long life and now they want rest.

“I’ll do my best,” Qrow says, his voice barely trembling at this promise.

The winter spirit’s smile warms up the room, “Thank you, Muninn.”

The ceremony gets started immediately because gods can be impatient like that.

At the stage area, Ozpin stands as the holy figure before the couple, their hands held together. James and Clover stand on the side of Atlas’ son. The two were chosen to be here today because Nicholas trusts them to take care of their people.

Qrow is on Fria’s side of the stage and he still feels out of place. They only need him for his powers which aren’t news to him. Nearly everyone Qrow meets wants to use him for one purpose or another. But this is for a good cause, he remembers himself as he watches the couple share tender looks and words.

Their vows are of the typical stuff that happens in weddings, promises to love each other and all that jazz. Qrow quietly chokes up when they promise to die in each other’s arms.

The concept of death is different between gods and humans. If a god dies… well actually Qrow doesn’t know. Gods just become nothing, absolutely nothing but dust.

For humans, Qrow once wondered where he’ll go because the gods of death had different rules and jurisdictions and he doesn’t want to learn any of that since he’s pretty immortal at this point.

Nicholas and Fria finish their vows and Ozpin wraps it up.

With a tap of his cane, a brilliant light captures the room and if Qrow squints his eyes he can barely see how the colors are moving around Nicholas and Fria.

The light dims and with it, the chill of the temple disappears from the temple. Fria has pinkness in her cheeks and she buries her warm hands into her husband’s white hair. Nicholas himself looks almost bigger now that there is no more weight on his shoulders, a cursed pain that haunts his bloodline.

Human, Qrow realizes and accepts.

All of the colors are swirling above their heads, blues and pinks and purples dancing together until Oz sends it up high, passing through the open ceiling and to the dark sky above. The colors blanket the night and its stars.

They all stand witness to the first ever aurora borealis.

“Muninn,” Oz commands and waves him over to stand in his place.

Right, moment of truth, he thinks as he is presented to the newly wedded and human couple. Even without their magic, their eyes are still old and weary.

Not thinking, Qrow carefully presses the tips of his fingers on their foreheads.

As far as Qrow knows, Muninn can do two things: turn into a bird and kick ass.

He doesn’t quite know where the memory association came from but then again other gods can say the same thing with their gimmicks.

It can be through sheer luck or coincidence or fate that led Qrow to this moment.

Memory is not a title Qrow thought he would bare and yet here he stands, feeling something tingle into his bones as a light glows from Nicholas’ and Fria’s foreheads. Energy flows from them and into Qrow and it starts to do more than buzz his bones.

He can’t breathe as images are passing behind his eyes.

It’s the old world full of magic that no human could ever imagine where nearly everyone is a demigod and nature spirits thrived without fear of pollution. The world has colors Qrow didn’t think existed and now it lives on through his head, an honor and a chain.

Qrow blinks away new tears as the two ancient beings give up their lives to finally get some peace in their souls.

It is all over before he knows it. They wanted to forget everything from their godhood so Qrow tries his best as promised. He leaves things in there, the knowledge of old friends and the joys and grief shared.

Fria will know how she felt when she first felt summer, how Nicholas brought her a literal ball of heat. Nicholas will know how light he felt the first time Fria made him laugh, a rusty thing in his lifetime. They will both know how they fell in love, when the sun kissed the sky as they held each other in their arms as eternity passed them by.

Lastly it is this moment, the details of the other gods will be vague but their hope and relief that this is finally happening will stay with them until their dying day.

Qrow lets go, his face wet and heart beating achingly slow. While his eyes are blurry he sees how young Fria’s and Nicholas’ eyes are.

The couple blinks slowly but their smiles are wide, like they know what happened but he doubts that, he just took away their memories.

Ozpin and James handle their retirement plans, something about sending them to Athens where Pietro, the son of Athena, will smooth out the details.

“Are you okay?” Oz asks and steads a hand on Qrow’s trembling arm.

He tries to speak but his tongue is heavy. His whole body shivers with the weight of winter’s rage. Qrow bites his lip harshly, snapping himself back into stillness. He manages to get out, “I’m good.”

Oz frowns at the lie but doesn’t argue. Instead he walks over to Nicholas, Fria, and James where he readies his spell and a rainbow flies them away.

“Qrow,” Clover warns with great concern but he waves him off.

“I feel fine,” Qrow says before he collapses.

The son of Poseidon catches him easily, his muscles proving its worth.

Muninn is known for his elegance and raw power. Black wings hold the winds of old and can cut through the toughest of stones. Right now that warrior is a twitching, gasping mess who’s clinging tightly to the only person grounding him.

“Qrow, hey, look at me,” Clover carefully guides a hand through black hair, making their eyes meet. He rearranges their bodies, complexly supporting Qrow’s weight to cradle the shapeshifter in his arms.

Two lifetimes are running around in the bird’s head, too much energy with no outlet and they are literally squeezing Qrow’s own memories into a peanut shell.

Wow, Qrow really should have thought this plan through but he didn’t want to ruin two gods’ wedding day. He’s not that much of an asshole. That and he didn’t want to be smited.

Too bad his brain is occupied with tearing itself apart to even think of a resolution. He has two brain cells and they don’t belong here.

Literally, Qrow sees nothing but never melting snow that is casted upon men and beasts alike simply because they wandered into territory of the winter faeries.

Another memory takes the reins, this time Qrow is crushed with the weight of the sky as Nicholas attempts to save his father from eternal punishment.

It didn’t work. Nicholas stood numbly as Atlas’ body dispersed into atoms at the moment the moon shattered, thus starting a territory war between the sky gods.

Now that’s a story Qrow never thought he’d learn, it would be really cool if he learned this in a less painful, mind aching, way.

“Hey breathe with me,” a warm hand is pressed to his collarbone, heating the skin as Qrow’s heartbeat flutters.

With lungs on fire, Qrow barely registers the rawness in his throat.

Has he been screaming? The wails of agony from the grieving son of Atlas rings between Qrow’s eardrums.

It hurts so much, an intense drumbeat in not only his brain but the rest of his flesh and blood and he just wants it to stop.

But gods don’t get that luxury do they?

Humans can live and die and rest while gods just keep on going and going until infinity yells at them to catch up already.

Somewhere in the raptures, Qrow questions why exactly he gave up his own mortality.

“Qrow, I need you to focus on me,” a blurry figure begs and closes the inches between them.

Their foreheads meet and despite the bright light returning, all Qrow can see are teal eyes.

Burning sea salt takes over all sense of smell as well as the sudden loud crash of waves at the portside. The little sea village in Midpass suffers from near endless heat due to the enchanting fire that rides the seafoam.

Qrow’s sight of that ocean is torn away as a familiar, gruff laughter catches his attention.

On the wooden pier are other fisherman but three visitors are out of place. It is mind boggling and an out of body experience to see Summer and Tai walk around with a Qrow joking with them.

This was a month ago and yet this version of Qrow appears years younger, cracking a wirily smile at Tai as Summer throws a mock punch his way.

He can’t recall what he teased them about because this isn’t Qrow’s memory, it’s Clover’s.

When the trio is passing by, Summer voices her desire to on a sea voyage. Tai, being logical for once, points out that they don’t have a ship.

That’s when the son of Poseidon heeds this call, friendly introducing himself as an expert boatman or seller or whatever because Qrow, both present and past, is not paying attention to the dialogue.

Past Qrow is ogling the sheer amount of muscles the fisherman has while Muninn, the ghost of the future, feels everything Clover felt.

It starts with piqued interest in the trio, all eluding different personalities and loud friendship but the dark haired man is who really catches Clover’s eye.

As a god of the sea, water orientated powers comes to mind. So it feels kind of out of place to sense a person’s luck scale.

Maybe Clover got the luck thing from his other parent, that’s not uncommon considering a lot of Remnant Gods have multiple heritages.

Anyway, only a god with this type of power can see how bad luck just reeks off of Qrow and finding this out is really ticking Qrow off.

He knew it. He knew that he’s nothing but a bad luck charm. Qrow was right in his argument with Summer that he shouldn’t tag along. He didn’t to be the reason his friends drowned or burned to death.

A new feeling takes over. Its strong warmth pushes aside the misery inside the black bird. This fast heartbeat, breath leaving lungs, it all happened when teal eyes met red.

“So you’re an expert boat guy, huh?” Qrow had said with a bit of slur. The drinks in this town were rumored to be a High John favorite and he wanted to taste. The results ended up being this flirt and wink, “I just so happen to love seamen.”

“Oh my fucking gods, Qrow,” Tai seethed.

Summer and Clover are busy laughing, a breathless energy making Clover feel lighter than air as he blushes furiously. With each laugh, the ocean rumbles, something Qrow did not notice before.

“I am so honored to hear that,” Clover returned a blinding smile once the urge to barrel over laughing is settled.

“He’s better at this I swear,” Summer giggled, “Well actually no, he can be terrible at this too.”

“Brat,” hissed Qrow.

“No, no,” Clover shook his head with a grin, “I think you’re doing just fine.”

“You sir are one in a million,” Tai rolls his eyes.

“Huh, in that case, lucky you,” Clover winked to Qrow.

In that tipsy state of mind, Qrow beamed, practically preening at being called the opposite of what usual mocks him day in and day out.

That’s when Clover’s emotions shift a bit. There is flustered wonderment at seeing Qrow just simply smiling like this is the happiest moment in his life.

A sudden need to see more of that smile bursts in Clover, a selfless urge to be the reason Qrow smiles or at least keep this man in the world a little longer than death will plan.

Clover’s bundle of positively is conflicting with Qrow’s confusion on the matter. It’s a bit flattering to witness this but it is also a bombardment of sensations he doesn’t know how to unpack.

The fleeting images of Qrow and Clover in that perfect sunlight fades away. The world returns to the nightlight temple, the aurora coloring the sky.

Qrow ever so slowly leans away from Clover just enough to have their noses brush up.

“What was that?” He asks.

With the couple’s memories, he felt drained but with Clover, he honestly feels better.

“I don’t know,” Clover admits, a blush setting on his cheeks, “I just wanted to stop your pain.”

Well it worked as his head feels less heavy. It’s somewhere in him still, the knowledge he took away from Nicholas and Fria. As for Clover’s memory, it probably wasn’t stolen at least that’s what he guesses.

“I didn’t,” a sudden horror is in his head, Qrow needs to check, “do you still remember how we met?”

“Of course,” Clover assures and he rubs his hands up and down Qrow’s arms.

“Cool, um what was all of that?” He swallows down the saliva building up in his mouth, “All of those feelings and stuff?”

Teal eyes go wide and his cheeks equally turn red, “Oh you would feel that too, um. It’s just my first impression of you.”

“…If this is about the seaman thing, I really could’ve said something better.”

A laugh surprises him as Clover’s chest shakes with each rumble, “It was one of the best pickup lines I have ever heard.”

“Okay that has to be a lie.”

“No really,” he shook his head, “You really impressed me.”

Scoffing, Qrow shifts out of Clover’s arm despite liking how it felt to be encircled by them, “Now I know you’re a liar.” He scuffles over to sit at the edge of the stage. Leaning back, Qrow rolls his neck to stare straight up at the skylight, “So that’s an aurora.”

The demigod takes a seat next to him, “It’s their last gift to the world.”

“Is it for the gods or humans?” Qrow asks. The memories of the gods have lulled itself to sleep in his head but flickers of a beautiful world with a full moon catches his breath.

Maybe they missed their old world and they wanted to put a bit of it back into reality.

“Well, why did you become a power?”

He snapped his head to the demigod, not at all seeing the connection.

Clover actually lays his back down, his arm crossed behind his head to watch the sky. He continues, “Was it for Odin or for something else?”

Only close friends of his know the reason. He and Raven were considered heirs for their Chieftain but after a tragic monster attack they lost most of their tribe. Ozpin was there to save those who remained and as their tradition, the twins owed him a life dept.

They unknowingly pled servitude to a hidden elder god, just their luck.

All Oz wanted was some company so Qrow easily agreed and traveled with him while Raven took care of their tribe. Along the way the god later revealed his true power and granted the twins immortality for their loyalties.

They became Muninn and Huginn, the Black Birds of Odin.

But Raven saw it all differently, not at first but gradually she grew to despise how Oz just isolated himself from the world. He could’ve saved the tribe before disaster struck.

Qrow had many disagreements with his sister but this was the pinnacle fight that changed everything. He picked Ozpin over the tribe that forced him to kill another kid to have a place in their brutal community.

To him, both gods and humans are alike through bloodshed and harshness and bitterness.

It didn’t matter to Qrow if he just ended up living a hundred years longer than fate planned. He wanted to get away from everyone, something he believed Ozpin once felt until they started taking initiative on saving other towns from monsters and chaotic magic.

“I used to think it was all for humanity, the good parts of it,” Qrow answered, “but seeing Fria and Nicholas, well, I didn’t think gods needed saving.”

He looks down at Clover, still gazing at the stars. Just like the first time they met, Qrow doesn’t see anything god-like in him, aside from the arms but his point still stands.

Curiosity takes over as Qrow asks, “Clover, would you ever do what they did?”

“I never thought to consider it until today,” he said, his voice soft and yet Qrow’s complete focus is on it. “Maybe if I met the right person,” Clover trails off and then teal eyes meet red again.

The memory of the ocean is at the edges of Qrow’s vision, enrapturing how stunning Clover looked in simple fisherman grab. That’s not something he’ll admit out loud, the amount of pockets are ridiculous.

Clover is undeniably handsome but he looks so human too, something that Qrow once was. The echoes of the demigod’s feelings mix in with his own, that sense of amazement at how utter goodness radiates off of him.

They may have met only twice so far and yet what is time compared to the immortals?

That and the single memories starts to bleed more than Qrow imaged. He felt Clover’s love for the ocean, its smell and feeling in his soul. How Clover was so charmed by Summer and Tai, instantly admiring their tenacity and enthusiasm for exploring.

The world looked different in Clover’s eyes. The same thing is said about Qrow.

In the memory, Qrow looked almost enchanting and not sleep deprived as he is normally. It’s weird to see himself look so human when he never appeared as joyful until he left the tribe.

Clover sits back up, “Qrow, I think you’re lovely.” He blinks at the sudden compliment and usually he won’t believe it but the glimpse in Clover’s head is convincing. “Meeting you just feels right to me, like it wasn’t just fate or luck that gave me the chance to see you again.”

His teal eyes are searching desperately for a reaction, any indication that risking his heart out will have a good outcome.

Qrow doesn’t know where this will lead, not at all as he drops a hand over Clover’s.

Not a lot can be said about the son of Poseidon, just lore and sea stories, but when he met the not-quite mortal Qrow was equally intrigued and wanting to get more of this fisherman.

He denied Summer’s teasing that it was a crush but now that he suddenly got invited to a wedding with Clover, finding out there’s more to his godhood and how kind he is, Qrow finds himself feeling very human.

Too long he spent his immortality alone, abandoned by Raven and Ozpin still keeping secrets. Summer and Tai were a drastic improvement in his life and now here he is, presented with something new and raw.

“Well,” Qrow settles, weaving their fingers together, “we have the rest of eternity to figure this thing out between us.”

#fair game week #fair game #fairgameweek2020 #qrow branwen #clover ebi #ozpin #my fic

65 notes · View notes

lavenderlight · 4 years

Note

1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 9, 11, 12, 13, 14, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 29, 31, 33, 34, 35, 36, 39, 40 >:)

Ahdgkhh okay here we go!!!

1: Which TES games have you played?

All 5 main series games, ESO, and Blades!

2: Favorite TES game?

Oblivion........ like the other games have traits I like more, but also cons. Like... if I had to pick a game to just play with only the Unofficial Patch, it’d be that one.

3: When and how you got into TES? I was at a game store with my brother and we saw Oblivion with all these award “amazing game” stickers on it on clearance. So picked it up. I wasn’t impressed right away (remember picking dark elf tho) so put it down. My bro played it and said “omg you have to get out of the tutorial dungeon that sucks but the rest of the game is so good!” So I made a bosmer and did and there rest is history. TES has been a special interest of mine and a big comfort series for a decade now! 4: Favorite race Bosmer! Dunmer are a close second though. Thanks Morrowind. 5: Favorite province Valenwood........... love it............ Cyrodiil too because I’m basic. 6: Favorite character Ahdjgh hard to pick because there are so many! Off the top of my head, Dagoth Ur/Voryn Dagoth, Indoril Nerevar (what a shock, I know), Serana Volkihar, Glarthir, The Adoring Fan (don’t @ me), The Jemane Brothers, Marcurio, really all the characters from ESO’s main quest and the ending side quests who help you 😭😭. 7. Favorite faction

Thieves’ Guild, minus Skyrim’s. Skyrim’s Thieves’ Guild was awful eww.

8: Which province you would like to live in

If the lore and history and stuff weren’t a thing, Summerset because it’s aesthetic and has nice beaches. Realistically, probs Cyrodiil because I’m basic and I like how it’s a melting pot of various races and cultures!

As much as I love Valenwood, wouldn’t be able to handle the Green Pact

9: Which deity/deities would you worship?

Dibella - because I like how she’s the divine for the arts, and actual true love and beauty in the world (feel like she’s the divine most likely to say gay rights and trans rights). That vibes with me.

Makes me sad that both in the games and in the fandom, she’s reduced to “ha ha slutty sex goddess”.

10: Favorite Divine

Dibella because see above.

11: Favorite Daedric Prince

Oh boy... hajdg I love Daedra (except Molag Bal - eww)!!! So it’s hard to pick. Just rapid fire listing some favs: Sheogorath, Meridia, Azura, Barbas (does he count?), Hircine...

12: Favorite enemy

Dagoth Ur

13: Favorite dungeon

Hmmm, I feel like I’m forgetting some, but I enjoyed Nocturnal’s trial dungeon in Skyrim because I like sneaking and it was all based on that.

14. You have awakened and you are a Cliff Racer. What do you do?

Hunt and kill anyone who dares to step outside Seyda Neen lol

15: What would you do if you contracted vampirism?

C u r e

16: What would you do if you contracted lycanthropy?

C u r e

17: Are there any characters you have crushes on?

Not rly because I’m ace.

If so, who?

18: Favorite Great House

The Sixth House. The Tribe Unmourned. The-

Honestly all of them are whack and have... issues. When I played Morrowind, I didn’t join any of them lol. Telvanni is at least entertaining and very out there which makes them cool. So I guess them?

19: Favorite TES music

Ahaha... I sold my soul to Jeremy Soule... I have so so many... :’)

“The Road Most Travelled”, “Peaceful Waters”, “Stilt Sunrise”, “Auri-El’s Ascension”, “Sunrise of Flutes”, “Harvest Dawn”, “All’s Well” “The Streets of Whiterun”, “Secunda” (this is one of my all time favourite video game songs!), “Sovngarde”, “One They Fear”

Then from ESO which has other composers too: “Northpoint Nocturne”, “Moth, Butterfly, and Torchbug”, and “Grazelands Dawn” (mostly because it’s a remix of “The Road Most Travelled” 🥺)

Oh, and this song from the Morrowind dlc because the remaster of “Nerevar Rising” from 2:54 onward. (which how could I forget “Nerevar Rising”? Ugh it gives me feels! The Oblivion and Skyrim main themes are very near and dear to me too)

Also really enjoyed this song from Clockwork City - captures the melancholy vibe and I like the clock noises in it.

20: In your opinion, what is the scariest thing in TES?

I can’t stand spiders so anytime anything having to do with them shows up... I play with mods that remove them and in ESO, I have a list of dungeons and places to avoid. If I have to do one, I make someone go with me and kill them for me lol.

The Lighthouse Quest in Skyrim was also mega spooky. As for lore, soul trapping and the Soul Cairn really freaks me out! I can’t bring myself to use soul trapping because it bothers me :( I headcanon that when a soul gem runs out of charge, the soul is freed because it’s the only way I can sleep at nigh leave me alone lol 21: Favorite main quest Morrowind, hands down. I will infodump and discuss that game’s plot forever. 22: Favorite side quest

I really like the Daedric Shrine quests, they’re always fun. Also love the silly little short quests like in Morrowind when you have to help the guy get his pants back, or in ESO where you gotta find the lost dog in Valenwood and pet it.

Oblivion has loads of side quests I loved... the missing dunmer painter, Hackdirt, that quest with the ladies who are killing men, the Floating Bowl quest... the mystery at Chorrol Castle....

23: Most frustrating experience in a TES game

I get mad any time the sneaking mechanics in ESO don’t work like the main games. Because I always play an archer-thief lol.

That one fabricant machine puzzle in Tribunal.... oh man........ I had to look it up.

And also the final boss for Clockwork City was annoying. Don’t go to the Clockwork City!

24: Funniest experience in a TES game

Other than moments intended to be funny, I sometimes laugh whenever I miss a jump and end up dying from fall damage. It’s so ridiculous.

Dagoth Ur’s “What are you doing?!” when you first attack the Heart always gets a chuckle out of me too. He sounds so... upset and disappointed in you? Lol

25: Most badass moment in a TES game

The ending to ESO’s main quest was a rly big power fantasy moment for me.

Also more mundane, but I felt really cool and powerful when I got to the point in Morrowind where I could one shot kill cliff racers lol

26: Saddest experience in a TES game

The ESO side quest, “The Soul-Meld Mage” in Coldharbour. After that one, I had to step away for a bit.... man. It hurt my heart and I still feel so bad. That was a case in the game where I really felt impacted by how cruel and awful Molag Bal is. Like I *knew* but that quest played with my emotions and made it personal.

27: Favorite area/region

Valenwood from ESO. I spend all my time there, and sometimes go to Summerset or Vvardenfell lol.

28: Least favorite character

Vivec.

Also don’t like Maven-Black Briar. :I

29: In-game food item you want to eat the most

Sweetroll!

Also this one recipe for a beef dish I found in Valenwood sounded good. Maybe also the Sunrise Souffle mentioned in Skyrim?

30: If you could try skooma, would you?

No. Don’t do drugs, kids.

31: If you had the skills and resources to do a perfect cosplay of any TES character who would it be?

Probs Serana

32: Have you read any of the novels?

No, but I’ve been thinking about it!

33: Favorite class to play

Thief, or a thief-similar class like agent or rogue.

34: Which type of magic would you most like using?

Alteration seems the most useful for everyday life lol. But illusion would be fun.

35: Favorite weapon

I use bows all the time!

36: Favorite spell

Levitate from Morrowind - it’s so much fun to use!

37: Favorite artifact

Nerevar’s Moon-And-Star Ring. It’s cute lol and I like the lore behind it!

Also enjoy the Wabbajack because of how silly it is, and Dibella’s Brush of Truepaint.

38: You have awakened to find you’re in Tamriel. How do you react?

Because yeah I love TES but also the world of it is scary with gods and monsters constantly trying to kill you lol

39: Thoughts on ESO so far

I really enjoy the world and writing! But I’m still cranky over some moments where it’s an MMO and not a normal TES game :I

I also hate that we can’t have NPC companions. You really gonna give me a clockwork nix-hound named Snuffler and not let me travel with him? For shame.

40: Character you’d most like to hang out with

Nerevar, because I’m very awkward and shy and bad at peopleing and I would hope he could teach me how to improve lol.

But to actually hang out and chill, Marcurio would be pretty fun lol

#thank you!!!#asks #rucow

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vagrantblvrd · 4 years

Text

In from the Cold, (1/1)

Summary: The past couple of months have been busy for Ryan.

Notes: Prompt fill for Anon who asked for Freewood with flowershop owner and hitman/spy AU way back at the start of May. :D?

(Read on AO3)

The past couple of months have been busy for Ryan. Running back-to-back missions with operatives from allied agencies that took him all across the globe until a lucky bullet put him down for the count in Bangkok. Left him bleeding out in an alley until a Good Samaritan happened by and took him to a local clinic.

Everything after that was something of a blur until he woke up to Geoff by his bedside with his face in his hands.

Relatively new to the agency, but he looks like he’s been there since the beginning. Takes his agents’ welfare far more seriously than his predecessors ever did and Ryan knows he’s not alone in adjusting to the way things have changed since he was appointed. (No idea what to do with someone who cares.)

Tired and drawn-thin with orders for Ryan to stop fucking doing this to him because he’s an old man and getting older every time one of his idiots ended up at death’s door, fucking hell, Ryan.

Dramatic of him, but Ryan had taken his point.

Promised to be good, once they got him back stateside. Listen to what the medical professionals had to say and let himself heal up before he went out and did something insanely stupid again.

So here he is, puttering around his apartment that feels more alien to him than the hotel rooms and other assorted hovels he tends to live in on missions.

A bit on the dreary side of things, since he hasn’t had the time to put personal touches into the décor. Most of the plants that were gifted to him when he moved in from coworkers and friendly neighbors are dead.

Dry, withered things that make him wince at the sight of them because he’d meant to ask someone to check in on them for him, but things had gotten a little out of hand. Gone from infiltrating a posh gala to gather intel on suspect characters and ended with him teaming up with fellow agents to retrieve nuclear codes and it��s a long story. (Ends with betrayal in the rain and a bullet in his shoulder.)

“Well this is fantastic,” Ryan says, and the little stray staring at him through the window screen in his kitchen meows agreement.

Scrappy little thing, loves to sunbathe in the flower planter attached to the window frame and not at all scared of Ryan.

Won’t come any closer, but the food he leaves out for her on his balcony disappears like clockwork, and she’s no longer so scrawny he can see her ribs.

Small victories.

Ryan looks around.

Thin layer of dust everywhere and nothing feels like the home it’s meant to be. Place to go after the briefings and missions and reports, to remember how to be human.

“Okay,” he says to himself quietly. “Okay, I can do this.”

He can’t roll his sleeves up at the moment, because one, he’s not wearing a long-sleeved shirt, and two, one arm is in a sling, but.

Tackling a task like cleaning his home up and making it suitable seems like something where you’d do that.

Instead Ryan flips the baseball cap he’s wearing around and wades into things armed with a feather duster, garbage bags, and sheer determination.

========

“Oh dear God,” Ryan says, an hour into things, because he forgot about the food he left in the fridge, and it’s not a pretty sight at all.

========

Several hours and a shower later, and Ryan’s apartment is starting to look like someone lives there now and there are no things in the refrigerator.

He’s tired, pleasantly so. Sense of accomplishment and hunger gnawing at his belly that drives him out to the little grocery store on the corner for groceries.

Smiles at the little old lady who asks him to get something off a high shelf for her. Makes small-talk with the cashier as she rings him up. Feels more human as he walks home, feet slowing when he comes across a flower shop he doesn’t remember seeing before.

Quaint place with a sandwich board on the sidewalk in front of it advertising daily sales. Curious stand set up for passersby to pick up a free flower as a courtesy. Brightly colored things with a vial attached to keep them fresh for the trip home.

Ryan thinks about the houseplants he threw out earlier and the lingering guilt in the back of his mind at the waste. How lifeless his apartment feels without them, and chooses a deep red flower, somehow managing not to drop the bag of groceries he’s carrying as he does.

When he gets home he realizes he doesn’t have a vase for the flower and settles on a drinking glass. Sets it on his kitchen counter where he and the stray can see it and laughs at himself because it’s ridiculous, isn’t it.

Government agent (spy) like him, and a silly little flower (unnecessary, frivolous) in a glass on his kitchen counter and it feels nice.

He keeps glancing at it while he cooks dinner for himself while saving tasty tidbits for the stray, and wonders if the shop sells houseplants.

========

They do.

========

Ryan is...not a plant expert.

Has no idea what he’s doing, really.

Ends up browsing the plant selection along one side of the shop. Flowering houseplants and herbs and other things he doesn’t know the names of. Recognizes from seeing them on the desks of his fellow agents and support staff at work and wonders if he’d be able to keep any of them alive given his frequent trips.

He’s considering an odd looking succulent when someone bumps into him. Ryan stiffens, turns to face whoever it is, cold voice voice in the back of his head admonishing him for not paying attention to his surroundings. For forgetting. (It sounds like his former superiors, and leaves him unsettled.)

“Are you alright?”

The man who bumped into him is wearing a work apron with the shop’s name emblazoned across the front. A handwritten name tag that says “Gavin”. British accent and a wild shock of hair. Too-big nose and blue-green eyes.

Frown on his face as he looks Ryan over, checks to see if he’s alright since Ryan still hasn’t answered him. The apologetic smile on his face drops away to open concern when his gaze lands on Ryan’s sling.

“I’m fine,” Ryan says, smiles to back that claim up. “Don’t worry about it.”

Gavin’s frown deepens, as though he’s not entirely convinced, but he huffs out a little laugh along with another apology.

Notices the small succulent Ryan’s still holding and makes this little cooing noise.

At the plant.

“Oh, she’s a lovely one,” he says, looks up at Ryan with this smile. “Do you have any at home?”

Ryan isn’t sure what’s going on.

“Uh, no,” he says. The plants he’d been given were hanging plants and flowers. Nothing like this strange little plant. Looks a bit like aloe but with prominent white stripes. “But I’ve heard it’s supposed to be hard to kill.”

Might survive him and his absences, even.

Gavin grins, and Ryan’s sure he must get customers in here all the time who say something along the same lines.

“Do you have pets?” he asks, something Ryan hadn’t considered before.

Thinks about the little stray and the fact that fall is just around the corner, and cooler weather with it. Rain. Frost. Early snow, if last year was any measure.

“...Yes,” he says, even though he’s not sure the stray would agree with him.

Gavin doesn’t question it though, just turns to the plants on display on the low tables set out and selects another succulent. Fat little leaves growing in a rosette pattern, touches of color at their tips.

“You might want to try one of these,” he says, cheeky little sales pitch. “The one you’re holding is safe for pets, but this is another lovely one and also on the hard to kill end of things.”

Ryan considers the plant, short stubby thing, and realizes he’s more than a bit out of his depth here in more ways than one.

Looks up at Gavin, that little smile on his face like he knows, and sighs.

========

The stray’s curious today, pacing back and forth on the other side of the balcony kitchen window as Ryan contemplates the best arrangements of his new houseplants.

The zebra plant he was initially drawn to and several other succulents. A spider plant for the living room. Several others he’s worried will die in his care sooner or later, but Gavin had been so enthusiastic about them and Ryan -

Well.

He’s a weak, weak man at loose ends until his shoulder heals and Lindsay’s always telling him he needs hobbies, isn’t she? Things unrelated to work, something that will help him wind down after a stressful mission.

So.

Looks like he’s going to give plants a try, see if he can’t keep them alive long enough to count as an actual hobby and not an impulse buy.

“Fingers crossed, huh?” he asks, and gets a flatly unimpressed look from the stray.

Ryan laughs, and turns on the television to watch the news as he fusses with the plants. Frowns at a reporter looking solemn as they drone on and on about a string of jewelry store robberies and rise in unrelated break-ins and daring burglaries and the like over the last few months. Only thing of significant note the fact they take place around sunset.

No new leads but unusual for the city, local police concerned about the rise in crime asking viewers to call a hotline they’ve set up it they see any suspicious activity.

Ryan hums to himself, and spares the stray a glance when it lets out a plaintive cry.

“I don’t suppose you know anything about that, do you?”

Ryan’s odd sense of humor and an old, worn out joke involving cats and burglaries and honestly, part of the reason he gets along half as well as he does with his co-workers.

========

Ryan’s not completely off the hook when it comes to that last mission, no.

There are meetings and conferences. Investigations and Ryan tired and hurting and facing down official and legal counsel from their sister agency over their operative who’d gone rogue on them. Sold their country out for the guarantee of a cushy retirement somewhere tropical – Ryan’s never seen the appeal, all that sand – and done their level best to kill Ryan as well.

Didn’t seem to think the fact better people had tried and failed, thought they would finally be the one to succeed.

He gets Geoff’s tired sighs, aggravated noises in private before they face the long, exhausting spectacle of it all. His staunch support at his side while others are trying to tear apart Ryan’s accounts of events. Insist he’s lying, dragging a dead man’s name through the mud to cover his own wrongdoing as though Ryan wouldn’t be more clever about things.

Laughs to himself when he mentions that to Geoff over lunch one day, and gets to see the man choke on his salad, sputtered “Jesus Christ, Ryan, don’t say shit like that,” because spies and paranoia and Geoff’s a good man but also a naive bastard if he thinks Ryan’s enemies don’t already know that about him.

Lindsay and the others check in with him when he’s not facing an inquisition, text him random things they think he’ll find interesting or at least entertaining. Call him up to pick his brain over some technical snag or logistic problem with a mission still in its planning stages.

Strange little community, family they’ve become over the years due to the nature of their jobs and the bonds it creates. (Out of familiarity and necessity at first, although it became choice a long time ago.)

========

Ryan’s understandably wary about buying too much in the way or perishable foods in case he’s called away for work longer than expected after the Fridge Incident. Makes daily trips to the corner grocery store, which somehow ends up with him stopping by the flower shop on the way as well. (Picks up one of their free flowers to brighten his apartment up, add a little cheer.)

Gavin’s always happy to see him, comes over to talk if business is slow at the time. Ask after Ryan’s plants, helps him when one of them is doing poorly. Shares pictures of the strays that loiter in the alley behind the flower shop he’s trying to befriend and all the ridiculous names he’s come up for them when Ryan mentions the stray that’s adopted him in its own way.

Ryan’s not completely socially inept, but this is definitely different from charming a target or dealing with fellow agents and support staff. This is -

It’s kind of terrifying, because he’s startlingly fond of Gavin and his rambling nonsense. Little stories about his coworkers at the shop, people Ryan’s met in passing and always seem busy. Delivering orders to customers or handling events for clients, in and out all the time.

Leaves the two of them time to talk, and Ryan’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

(Unnecessary, frivolous, but.)

“Ryan!” Gavin’s smile lights up his face and Ryan -

Oh, he thinks a little helplessly. Oh, no.

========

Ryan is an idiot.

========

“I mean, yeah,” Geoff says, snatches the unopened can of diet soda from his hand. “You really are.”

Ryan’s not sure why Geoff’s here, poking around his modest apartment and stealing his diet soda, but here they are.

They’re not friends in the conventional sense, but there’s something more to it than their working relationship. Something that lets Geoff unwind in Ryan’s apartment, loosen his tie and kick his shoes off. Give Ryan this little smirk like maybe they are friends, and Ryan just hasn’t caught on yet.

“To be fair I don’t know what you're talking about? But you, Ryan. You are definitely an idiot.

Ryan sighs, getting up to take another can of diet soda out of his fridge. Watches Geoff sitting in his kitchen looking as relaxed as Ryan’s ever seen him. He’s got the newspaper Ryan picked up on his morning jog spread out in front of him, frowning over a news story concerning another jewelry store robbery. (Used to work for the FBI, according to the rumors, before Burnie lured him to the agency to make things right.)

“Thanks, boss.”

Geoff cackles, gestures to the kitchen window and the stray watching them through slitted eyes. Basking in the warmth of the late afternoon sun in its planter.

“When did you get a cat?”

Ryan shrugs.

“Hell if I know.”

He’s a dog person, but the damn thing has claimed Ryan’s planter as its own and climbs into his lap when he sits out on the balcony with a drink and book to read and what is he supposed to do about that?

Geoff eyes him, thoughtful edge to it, and laughs.

“See that? Right there, Ryan? That’s you being an idiot.”

========

He’s not wrong.

========

Gavin’s coworkers are...odd.

Strange.

Suspicious as hell.

“Gav’s not here,” Trevor says, light, airy tone, but steel in his eyes.

The three of them don’t seem to have set days off, rarely work together the same days. (Not that Ryan’s looking for patterns, routines. Using those observational skills of his the agency honed to use because he still feels at loose ends, no.)

There’s just something about Trevor that unsettles Ryan.

Co-owner of this quaint little flower shop who as it happens is not Ryan’s biggest fan, and sure as hell not shy about letting Ryan know.

The door to the shop swings shut behind Ryan and he feels trapped.

Hairs on the back of his neck and urge to go for his weapon, but this isn’t a mission.

This is a quaint little flower shop a few blocks from his building and the coworker of someone Ryan’s gotten far too attached to for anyone’s good.

And yet here he is.

Trevor’s watching him with this frown – one Ryan belatedly realizes is only for him. Eyes sharp and assessing in a way that unsettles Ryan.

“Ah,” Ryan says. “I see.”

Trevor’s eyebrows go up, and Ryan winces.

Government agent of the “spy” variety and an absolute disaster dealing with anything not related to his work. Amazing.

“Maybe you can help?” Ryan asks, even though he’d prefer to slink out of the flower shop with the way Trevor’s looking at him. “One of my plants isn’t doing well, and I’d hoped I could get advice on what to do?”

Trevor tips his head to the side as he squints at Ryan. Pinpointing weak spots perhaps, or the best way to kill him and hide the body afterwards. (Ryan’s mind flashes back to plays he was in, once upon and time and smothers a laugh, barely manages to keep from asking if they have Venus flytraps in the back.)

“Maybe,” Trevor says, mimicking Ryan. Smiles, faint. Definitely amused by Ryan. “Why don't you tell me what you’ve done to the poor thing and we’ll see what we can do, hmm?”

========

Alfredo is another odd one.

Friendly smiles and bright laughter that covers this sharpness to him Ryan’s hard-put to describe.

Easy to see why the customers in the flower shop linger when he’s helping them. Like to chat about things going on in their lives, tease and joke with him.

It’s not just good salesmanship, it’s -

“Oh, hey, Ryan!”

Unsettling in a completely different way because he’s disarming. Makes people want to trust him, and Ryan can feel himself being drawn in despite himself from time to time.

“Alfredo,” he says, not surprised they’re the only ones in the shop.

It’s early still, on a weekday and people are headed off to work and dropping their children at school. A million and one things to do and not enough hours in the day.

And then there’s Ryan, fresh from his morning jog and still this restlessness to him afterwards.

“Is it here?”

Alfredo grins as he looks through the notes they keep behind the counter. Service numbers in case something goes wrong in the shop and repairs need to be made. Delivery numbers for online orders and so on. A handful of customer numbers and the relevant information for those like Ryan who’ve requested a special order for plants and supplies they don’t keep on hand due to lack or space or wider interest.

“Oh-ho,” Alfredo says, and flashes Ryan another grin. “Look at this!”

A delivery receipt for a company in town, and Gavin’s signature at the bottom.

“Hold on a minute and I’ll get that for you.”

Ryan doesn’t fidget while Alfred goes into the backroom, he just.

Explores.

Wanders over to a display stand on the counter a little further down. Odd little plants in tiny terrariums that claim to be hardier than other indoor plants Difficult to kill and perfect for those looking for a unique plant for their homes or offices.

Hand-painted pots from local artisans. Odd bits and bobs like keychains and refrigerator magnets for plant lovers. Seed packets for those looking to start butterfly gardens and so on.

“Here we go,” Alfredo calls out, singsong note to it as he emerges from the back and sets Ryan’s order down on the counter.

Looking at it, Ryan feels ridiculous because it’s –

< i>Unnecessary, frivolous.

“It’s a beauty,” Alfredo says, giving Ryan this smile like he knows. “You have a name picked out?”

Ryan laughs, little huff of breath as he pulls the small potted plant closer.

“Still thinking about it,” he says, and wonders how much grief he’d get from Geoff and the others for naming is new Venus flytrap it after a certain killer plant from outer space.

========

If Ryan’s being honest with himself – and to be honest, he rarely ever is – Gavin’s a bit on the odd side of things as well.

Little things about him that ping the edge of Ryan’s finely-tuned radar for trouble that he pushes aside because...Because.

That smile of his and his cheerfulness. Way he laughs at Ryan dumb little jokes and stands far too close for someone he barely knows when Ryan stops by the flower shop for advice on his plants (and honestly, the internet is right there at his fingertips, isn’t it?) or pick up something he didn’t know he needed for them. (It’s a learning process he’s woefully slow about.)

Gavin is sharp in a way Ryan’s learned to watch out for. Covers for it well with that aforementioned smile and cheerfulness, but he’s...there’s something to him that doesn’t quite sit right with Ryan.

Clever and bright and as he learns one day when he walks into the shop to find it empty, part mountain goat.

“Hello?” he calls out, instantly wary because it’s the weekend when there tend to be a fair amount of customers about the place, Gavin or one of his co-workers behind the counter or helping said customers.

There’s a clatter from the back storeroom. A clunk, a rattle and then a harried sounding Gavin.

“I’m in the back!” he yells out, and, “come on back!”

Ryan glances around as though he could be talking (yelling?) at anyone else, and hesitates before he steps behind the counter and heads through the doorway into the storeroom.

He doesn’t see Gavin at first, but it’s easy enough to follow a trail of knocked over supplies and other things to a corner of the storeroom. Look up, and there Gavin is a good ten feet off the ground and moving about the storage shelving there instead of using the ladder Ryan can see less than five feet from him.

The height doesn’t seem to bother him, let alone the dangerous footing. Moves as easily as he would if he were on firm ground, and glances down at Ryan with a cheerful grin.

“Ryan!” he greets, “just the person I wanted to see!”

Ryan’s glad for the dim lighting back here, because spy he may be but he he still hasn’t mastered involuntary reactions like blushing. (A failing for someone in his line of work, surely.)

“Oh?” he says, and bites the inside of his cheek when Gavin laughs at him as he snags a box on the shelf above him and makes his way down the shelves with easy confidence.

Gavin drops the last foot off the ground and turns around to show Ryan the box he grabbed, and gestures for him to follow him into the work area.

Ryan follows him, curiosity piqued as Gavin sets aside pieces of foam and cardboard to reveal a little clay pot with stylized flytrap plants painted on it and curving, twisting vines curling around the entire thing.

“I almost forgot this,” he says, little grin on his face as he glances at Ryan. “That special order you put in reminded me about it.”

Ryan stares at the pot and can’t help the stupid little smile he can feel stealing across his face thinking about re-potting Audrey II into it like the dork Lindsay and the others are always accusing him of being.

========

Ryan’s always had the worst luck.

========

It doesn’t seem to matter how careful Ryan is, something like this always happens.

Always.

He’s moved several times since he joined the agency, made it a habit after the first few years and one too many coincidences he suspects weren’t.

Past time to have moved from his current apartment, to be honest, but sentimentality and something else has kept him here. (Someone.)

Whatever his reasons it’s a moot point, considering the current situation.

Annoyed, because things were going so well for him for once. He was so close to being reinstated, had something of a life outside work, and now there’s another hole in his shoulder. Too damn close to the first and bleeding like a son of a bitch.

His fault, for allowing himself to develop routines while he’s on medical leave. Patterns. Made himself predictable, allowed his enemies to set up a trap and bait him into it.

And now there’s a broken off blade in his sill-healing shoulder (it seems to be a magnet for things like that) and a dead enemy agent behind him along with Ryan’s phone that bravely took a bullet for him.

Something close to fear in his chest and too far from home. (Guilt building up with each painful step because there’s someplace closer he thinks might be safe, and resignation because somehow it would turn out like this.)

He makes it to the alley behind the flower shop, thankful for the heavy downpour that’s driven people inside, fewer potential witnesses. Knocks on the back door and hopes like hell someone’s close enough to hear it.

That there aren’t any customers to deal with, other complications he hasn’t considered -

And then the door opens.

Ryan stumbles back, hisses softly as the motion jars his wound, and looks up to see Gavin standing there, eyes widening as he takes in Ryan’s battered state.

“Ryan?”

Ryan opens his mouth to answer, but the words don’t come.

Doesn’t know what he could say to explain himself even if they did.

Thankfully Gavin doesn’t seem to care, already moving to help him. Slips a shoulder under Ryan’s good arm and guides them inside. Leads Ryan to a stool in front of a workstation of sorts and eyes him with something more than concern.

“Can you sit up on your own?” he asks, strange sort of familiarity in this sort of situation that speaks of past experience.

Ryan nods, hand pressed to his shoulder as he watches Gavin go over to a counter and pull a sign out of a drawer. For the front door, and he catches a glimpse of it before Gavin slips into the shop proper, an apology for being closed but Gavin’s gone before he can read it fully.

He recalls seeing it in being used before and the excuses one of the others gave him afterward and not thinking twice about it. The way Gavin’s moving now, with such purpose makes him wonder if he should have.

Hears the sounds of Gavin pulling the blinds and shutters closed, locking up behind him before he comes back, phone in hand.

Pauses with his thumb over the call button and glances at Ryan.

“Ambulance?” he asks, and nods to himself when Ryan shakes his head.

Bad idea at the moment, speaking from personal experience. Ryan should put a call in to Geoff, the agency. Get a team out here to deal with the mess, have their people handle things, but he’s so tired.

Doesn’t know what he’s doing here, why he’s not doing a damn thing as Gavin calls someone. Talks too quietly for Ryan to make out what he’s saying and the concern he should feel nowhere to be found.

Tired.

Aware that whatever else happens now, things are going to change between them. Already have, with the way Gavin’s acting.

No longer the slightly clumsy co-owner of a quaint little flower shop and more...something.

Someone who knows how to react in a situation like this, isn’t nervous or panicking. Flustered. Just this calm sort of efficiency to his actions, clear protocol in the steps he takes.

From the quick assessment of Ryan’s current state to making sure other people – civilians – don’t wander into this little mess unsuspecting, to whoever he’s called to alert them.

Gavin hangs up and turns to Ryan, expression Ryan can’t read on his face.

Shaky little sigh and then Gavin pockets his phone and goes over to the counter he pulled the closed sign from. Takes out a hefty looking first-aide kit and comes back over to him with a little detour to turn the heat up as he does, wry twist to his mouth.

“Well then,” he says, tries for a light tone even though the look in his eyes is anything but. “Why don’t we see what we can do about that nasty wound of yours, hmm?”

Ryan blinks up at him, feels like he should be asking questions. More so as Gavin picks through the little plastic box, setting out medical supplies and muttering to himself.

Little laugh as he brings a desk lamp over for better lighting and Ryan tries to help, get his shirt unbuttoned, but his hands are clumsy from the cold and everything else and he makes a mess of it. Stops when Gavin places his hands over his and laughs, eyes sliding away fro Ryan’s as he helps him out of his shirt.

“Can’t say this is how I saw things going,” Gavin says, another awkward little laugh and dusting of red high up on his cheeks.

Ryan – doesn’t know what to say to that, so he doesn’t say anything at all.

Gavin clears his throat and mumbles something Ryan doesn’t catch as he shakes off whatever nervousness took hold and sees about doing what he can with the supplies at hand.

There’s this...Gavin makes this noise when he sees the bullet wound, fingers ghosting over it before he moves on to seeing about the knife wound.

“I don’t have the proper medical tools to remove it,” he says apologetically when Ryan tells him the blade’s still in there. “Probably for the best you get someone qualified to see to it anyway.”

He keeps Ryan engaged, chattering on about nothing and handing him things to hold. Nudges him with his knee when Ryan’s mind starts to drift, presses his fingers into his shoulder causing a slight sting and yanking his mind back to the present with a murmured apology.

Trevor and Alfredo show up just as Gavin’s double-checking his work, stopgap measure at best that he apologizes for several times, but he’s already done more than Ryan expected when he made his way here.

“So,” Trevor says, taking in the mess before him, Ryan included. “This is quite the pickle.”

Gavin continues cleaning up, neatly avoiding Trevor’s eyes and ducking around Alfredo who seems content to watch things unfold.

Ryan...should definitely be more concerned about all of this, the way Trevor’s looking at him, but can’t seem to when Gavin comes back to stand beside him. Puts himself between Ryan and the others and his heart trips over itself in his chest at that.

“Trevor,” Gavin says, layers of meaning to it Ryan can’t hope to understand as they stare each other down.

Alfredo shuffles his feet and clears his throat pointedly when the tension in the room rises, gestures at Ryan who’s just sitting there like an idiot. Thoughts slow and stupid, far from the top agent he’s supposed to be because he’s not doing anything about this, is he.

Just letting things play out like it has nothing to do with him and honestly, it would be nice if that were true, wouldn’t it.

“This changes things,” Trevor says, and Ryan knows that tone of voice, doesn’t he. The slight shift of his stance from an odd sort of civilian to someone who very much is not. “We can’t - “

Ryan gets to his feet because nothing good ever comes after a statement like that, and it’s clear he’s made a mistake. Let his guard down when he shouldn’t have, forgot his training and all the lessons he learned the hard way.

Much as he tried to ignore the signs that something was off about this quaint little flower shop and its owners, that he just couldn't turn his training off there’s no way to interpret the shift in the three of them.

Trevor’s a threat. Alfredo’s a threat. Gavin’s a threat, much as it hurts to think of him that way, and he can’t continue to sit there letting things play out any longer.

Ryan stands, but his body betrays him. Blood loss and pain, shock, strain on his body – all of it – finally catch up to him as the world tips sideways on him.

He hears Alfredo's low swearing as he reaches for him, sees Gavin start to turn back and the world fades out before he hits the floor.

========

“You’re an idiot.”

First thing Geoff says when he gets to the hospital Ryan woke up in, which had been a surprise given the last thing he remembers. (Honestly a surprise he’d woken up at all, with the way Trevor had been looking at him.)

Geoff is in a chair beside his bed radiating an enormous amount of disapproval at him, and Ryan?

He’s just confused.

“I know,” Ryan says, pokes gingerly at his shoulder and the thick swathe of bandages there. “Thanks for the reminder, though. I really needed it.”

He’s not even being sarcastic about it, which seems to throw Geoff for a moment. Has him eyeing Ryan like he’s worried he hit his head and failed to tell the doctors. He might have, actually, that last little bit in the back of the flower shop.

“Ryan - “

Ryan’s not looking at him now, watching a bird winging its way past his window. Sky cold and gray, storm clouds rolling in over the city to match his mood since waking earlier that day.

“Any sign of them?”

Quaint little slower shop setting up business in Ryan’s neighborhood while he was gone on a mission and hadn’t given a second thought to being there. New businesses popped up all the time like it, shopping about for good locations to set down roots and hopefully turn a profit.

Nothing suspicious about it, and the young men running it were so sweet and charming. Kind, and so knowledgeable about the flowers and pants they sold. Ingratiated themselves with the other local business, the community.

No reason to be suspicious about it, even when he should have known better. Trevor and Alfredo and the way something about them seemed ever so slightly off, but he’d been distracted, hadn't he.

Saw a pretty face, fell hard, because Gavin was kind and didn’t push, wonder, about the half-hearted lies Ryan fed him. Had this energy, light to him that drew Ryan in. Snared him easy as anything, even though he knew better. (Should have.)

Never would have pegged him as a thief, though. Three of them leaving behind enough clues to point to a heist they were forced to abandon, months in the making and Ryan nearly bleeding out in their little flower shop to ruin it.

The spate of jewelry robberies and other burglaries that had happened since the flower shop opened. Odd days off one or more or the three of them would take, easy explanations for it that just rolled off the tongue.

No trace of them aside other than a handful of clues about their next target, a rare set to be on exhibit at the museum in a few weeks time. Only window for them to grab it when it arrived in the city, jumble of faces around it and risky as hell but doable.

Sounds too bizarre to be true, and yet -

And yet.

Ryan’s always had the worst luck.

He’s surprised they didn’t leave him to die in the back of their shop. Sure as hell no incentive for them to help him, even less reason knowing they’d have to abort their heist. Run, before their...activities were discovered, careful lies and plans unraveling under the agency’s scrutiny, police involvement.

Geoff’s staring at him.

“You know,” he says, quiet, thoughtful. “When we got the call from them, we thought you were dead?”

Wouldn’t be the first time, the way Ryan’s luck runs.

Presumed dead several times over and always coming back like a bad penny.

He says as much, and can’t help the touch of amusement at Geoff’s aggravated sigh, frustrated growl.

“Jack warned me,” he mutters, scowling now. “Asshole warned me when I took the job. Told me what assholes you all were and I’d be lucky if I didn’t have an ulcer in the first six months.”

Ryan looks over at him then, curious.

Geoff cares, and the rest of them have long resigned themselves to working for people who didn’t. Saw them as expendable. Assets. Threw them at the current problem and no skin off their nose if they didn’t survive, because God knew there would be more recruits fresh out of the academy to take their places.

Geoff, though.

He cares.

Worries about them, the kinds of missions they get handed because their agency’s gained a reputation for taking on the most dangerous missions. Incredible success rate and never mind the cost.

They’re still adjusting. Learning to trust Geoff’s different, that he and his people are working to change the way the agency works. Put their people first. (When they can, because sometimes there’s no other choice.

“Just out of curiosity,” Ryan asks, “how long did it take?”

========

There’s a big to-do about the attack on Ryan.

All these security concerns and everything else that turns the agency even more on its head than when Geoff came in and started to rip out the roots past Directors planted years ago.

Something of a conspiracy from the remaining old-guard and those loyal to them and Geoff and those loyal to him have Ryan quietly relocated. And relocated again, because paranoia and all the things that come with his job.

No one can confirm if the attack was related to his last mission or something else. Old grudges from enemies he’s made over the years or someone discovering his status as an agent, to some as of yet unknown reason.

It’s the least reassuring thing in the world, and exactly what he was expecting to learn.

Ryan’s own bad luck and the nature of their jobs.

They put a security detail on him while he’s recovering from his latest injuries, because Geoff won’t take no for an answer and Ryan’s learning to accept that.

Still.

“Hey,” Michael says one day, disgruntled look on his face as he lets himself into Ryan’s place. “Got your mail for you.”

Ryan looks up from the newspaper he’s reading where he may or may not be looking for stories about recent robberies or burglaries. (Stupid of him, he knows. Foolish in the worst way.)

It should be annoying, really, the way the agency’s handling this. Michael and the others assigned to it not quite barging into his private life as...he doesn’t have the words for it, and is surprised he doesn’t mind it as much.

Blames Geoff for that, changing the way the agency operates and encouraging them to forge bonds with one another that was once frowned upon. Going from what amounted to work acquaintances to something more to the point Ryan doesn’t bristle at the thought of someone else collecting his mail.

(Security reasons for it too, scans and checks and that paranoia in action.)

He’s not an invalid, can make the trek down to his mailbox just fine, but he gets tired easily and some days it doesn’t seem worth the effort.

“Oh,” Ryan says. “Thanks, Michael.”

Michael eyes him when he notices what section of the newspaper Ryan’s reading. Looks like he wants to say something and just shakes his head before dropping Ryan’s mail in front of him.

“Yeah, sure.”

Ryan knows the agency is looking for Gavin and the others as well. Unsure if they were somehow involved in the attack or otherwise connected. Why they bothered to help Ryan knowing it would compromise their own operations and concerned at how completely they’ve disappeared off the face of the Earth.

A lot of questions there, and no luck in finding a hint as to where they’ve gone.

Ryan sets the newspaper aside and sorts through his mail, pausing on a brightly colored postcard. Gorgeous photo of a beach in Miami from the name emblazoned across the front in elegant script and brief description when he turns it over.

No message, just a little doodle of a Venus flytrap that has Ryan staring at it too long, because Michael notices.

“Something to be concerned about?”

Nice and casual, but when Ryan looks up it’s clear Michel knows the postcard means something. He might not know what the significance is, but he’s far from stupid.

“...No,” Ryan says, knowing what a risk he’s taking. With whoever sent the postcard (he knows, though, he does) and with Michael.

They’ve known one another or years, and Ryan’s always counted him among the small group of people he works with he could trust. (For whatever that’s worth.)

Michael gives him a long look – far from stupid – and shrugs.

“If you say so,” he says and goes off to check in with the team across the way.

========

Later that night Ryan does a quick online search and discovers several news articles about a spate of jewelry store robberies ad daring burglaries that took place in Miami recently.

Unknown suspects and so on and so forth that sounds far too familiar.

Ryan should, he knows, should bring it to the agency’s attention. Inform them there’s a possibility said crimes are related to Gavin and the others, too coincidental to be anything else, and yet?

He doesn’t.

No.

He deletes his search history, scrubs it from his laptop and harddrive, goes overboard with it because it’s what he knows and tucks the postcard away in the drawer of the table Audrey II sits on.

========

He gets more of them over the next few months. Always a new city, new state and all these news reports from those locations he uncovers after the fact.

Enough to make him wonder what Gavin’s playing at, hoping to gain from any of it.

Michael pretends not to notice, and the others assigned to babysit Ryan do the same.

And it would be fine, it would until Ryan comes home from his morning jog one day to find Lindsay cooing at something on the other side of his kitchen window while Geoff looks on.

“Uh,” Ryan says, sharing a look with Michael. “Lindsay? Geoff?”

Lindsay continues to coo, babbling nonsense and tapping her nails against the screen. Geoff turns to look at them, expression on his face that has Michael going to Lindsay to drag her out of Ryan’s apartment.

She protests, calls Geoff and Michael heartless buzzkills, but still lets Michael pull her away.

An impressive enough feat once Ryan goes over to see what had her so entranced.

It’s the stray.

Happily sunning itself in Ryan’s new planter he hasn’t bothered to plant anything in with the fall in full-swing and colder weather on the way.

“Oh,” Ryan says, because he hasn’t seen it since the agency relocated him. Tried his best to put it out of his mind because there were other, larger concerns than one small stray he wasn’t sure he wanted in his life anyway.

He’d done a terrible job of it though, sneaking away from under the noses of his babysitters to go back to look for it more than once with little luck. Realized it had run off to harass some other unsuspecting idiot, worm its way into their reluctant affections the way it had with him.

“Looks like your cat found you again,” Geoff says, and it’s a mix of Ryan’s boss and Ryan’s friend looking back at him.

Worried about the implied security risk to Ryan and God knows what else, because.

It’s fall and while the weather hasn’t turned terribly cold just yet, there’s a definite chill in the air once the sun goes down. Noticeable shift in temperature.

The stray’s sunning itself in the planter, yes, but there’s also a pet bed with blankets place on the small balcony that Ryan knows for a fact wasn’t there when he and Michael left for his morning jog. Bowls of food and water.

Ryan tears his gaze away from them to look at Geoff, unsure what to say.

It’s possible the stray might have somehow found him all the way across the city after being relocated twice. He’s heard about the incredible journeys pets will go on to find their owners after being separated from them, but something like this is more difficult to explain away as part of that phenomenon.

But like Michael before him, Geoff just gives him a look.

“I always heard you don’t choose a cat as much as it chooses you,” he says, sarcastic as hell. “But I never expected to see proof of it like this.”

The stray opens its eyes and lets out an accusatory cry when it spots Ryan, right on cue.

========

The postcards trail off after that, so slowly Ryan almost doesn’t notice. It coincides with Geoff lifting the extra security precautions and being cleared to go back light duties so he doesn’t have time to dwell on it.

The fact that Geoff saddles him with a rookie lifted from some shady government agency or other around the same time helps in that regard too.

Jeremy’s bright in a way Ryan doesn’t remember being when he came to the agency, but he supposes that makes sense.

Ryan had half a decade of experience by the time he was handpicked by the agency’s former Director. Knew the dangers and risks inherent in their job all too well by the point and already had quite the collection of scars to show for it.

He’s also a quick learner, and a few short months after the two of them are partnered together the two of them end up in a coastal city in Italy.

Scenic, picturesque.

Enough so that Ryan finds himself playing the part of tourist while he and Jeremy scour the area for signs of the target they’ve been sent to find. (Eliminate if necessary, although Ryan’s hopeful it won’t come that.)

Jeremy’s snooping around a mansion overlooking the town while Ryan listens in to his end of things over their comms. Wry observations and quiet humming as he evades security guards and staff alike, no nervousness or alarm in his voice.

Ryan finds his eye drawn to a rack of postcards at a little kiosk in a marketplace and is looking though them when someone bumps into him. Ryan stiffens, turns to face whoever it is, voice voice in the back of his head chiding him for not paying attention to his surroundings. (It sounds like Geoff. Tired and long-suffering and this underlying concern for the lives, people he’s responsible for, Jesus Christ, do not make me have to do the paperwork on you if you get yourself killed on the clock you assholes.)

“Are you alright?”

The man who bumped into him is wearing a button-down shirt with the top two buttons undone. British accent and a wild shock of hair. Too-big nose and eyes obscured by a pair of sunglasses.

Seems friendly enough, but there’s this touch of wariness to him like he’d bolt if Ryan says the wrong thing.

He frowns as he looks Ryan over, checks to see if he’s alright since Ryan still hasn’t answered him, gaze lingering on Ryan’s shoulder before meeting his eyes.

Ryan, for his part, can’t seem to stop staring.

“I - “ he manages after a long moment. “No, I’m fine.”

Gavin smiles.

Small, crooked.

“That’s good to hear,” he says, and glances at the postcards Ryan was looking at before he picks one up.

Photo of the coastline with the town behind it as the sun sets in background and breathtakingly gorgeous.

“I’m rather partial to this one,” he says, and there’s a note of mischief to his voice Ryan doesn’t remember hearing before but finds that it suits him perfectly.

Thinks back to the postcards he’s received, most with photos taken at sunset or just a little afterwards with the sung hanging low in the sky and night starting to set in.

“Oh?” Ryan hears himself say as he takes the postcard from him.

Gavin laughs, and then winks as he pays the kiosk owner for the postcard.

“Consider it a gift for running into you,” says, as the two of them amble along to avoid drawing attention to themselves. “I’d offer to buy you a drink instead, but I’m afraid I’m just passing through.”

Ryan looks at him from his peripheral when they stop on a section of the marketplace overlooking the docks. Notices the way Gavin’s watching a boat down there, pair of figures already on board.

He still seems calm, relaxed but still has that edge of wariness to him.

Ryan’s sure he’d be gone like a shot if he says the wrong thing. Hop over the railing and down the pier faster than he could hope to catch up to him along with Trevor and Alfredo. Maybe he’d just turn and bolt into the crowd around them, lose Ryan in the crowd while the other two take off to rendezvous somewhere else.

Some other scenario Ryan hasn’t even considered.

And maybe, maybe, if Ryan wasn’t here for a mission, if he was still the same Ryan from a year or even a month ago he would do what’s expected of him.

But he is here on a mission, and he’s definitely not either of those Ryans.

Isn’t really sure what kind of Ryan he is these days, is still working on finding that out for himself.

“Maybe some other time then,” Ryan suggests, because there’s always something with them, isn’t there.

Timing gone wrong somewhere and no way to change it he can see right now. Maybe one day if they’re lucky.

Gavin laughs, and it’s the same as Ryan remembers. So is the bright smile on his face when he looks at him.

“Sounds lovely,” Gavin says, and Ryan’s sure it will happen when the time is right for both of them. “I rather think I’d like that.”

========

The mission is a success and Ryan comes home to find Lindsay’s coaxed the stray to come inside when checking on things for him while he was in the field.

“Only for a few minutes at a time,” she says as she lets herself out now that he’s back, “but, hey, it’s a step in the right direction.”

A welcome one at that, with winter nipping at their heels and threats of snow on the way.

The stray’s skittish, hides under the couch and whatever else it can find but willing to be talked into coming close for a tasty treat.

There’s an envelope waiting for him postmarked from Italy. When he opens it he finds a postcard inside with a collage of landmarks of Rome across the front and a message on the back.

”For that other time,” with a phone number to go along with the Venus flytrap doodle.

Ryan’s sure of what he’d find if he looked up news reports from Rome around the time Gavin and the others would have been in the city, so he doesn’t. (Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise when Geoff comes to him about it because he’s been keeping tabs on a certain group of jewel thieves.)

No.

Ryan laughs as he commits the phone number to memory and adds the postcard to the collection already there and looks forward to what the future holds in store.

#freewood #ragehappy #spy agency au #Anon #prompt fills #Kings of Nowhere #vagrant fic #this is somewhat what anon asked for #kind of #sort of #:D???#¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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