#getting beat to hell and almost killed and surviving things that most normal human beings never could

[scattered-winter]

the daredevil rewatch is all fun and games until it gets to the mattfoggy divorce era </3

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

Idk about you but that trope where a giant gets angry and accidentally scares a tiny and feels bad abt it afterwards makes me go absolutely feral,,

So, originally, I was planning for this scene to be in a future chapter of This Is Nothing Like The Disney Star Wars Trilogy, but I could never really think of a full story arc around it, even though I still really really really love this idea. In any case, if I happen to brainstorm a better plot and find a way to squeeze this in I might edit it into the main story, otherwise enjoy some classic Giant Catboi and Twink Solider fearplay >:3c

--

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was!?”

As expected, the little one did not respond to his rhetorical question, though his tone certainly helped snap it out of its previous stupor as it released its death grip on his shirt in favor of squirming as soon as the bedroom door slid shut behind him. His aggravation at the situation was clear as day even without the usual language and cultural barrier that impeded any sort of deeper relationship Edix tried to form with the human. Red ears were still folded back against his curls and his shoulders tense, the stiff posture traveling down to his hands were they gripped the earthling to his chest perhaps just a touch more tightly than usual, not that it prevented it from trying to push and wriggle itself out of his overprotective hold.

Fuck no, he wasn’t ready to let it go yet, not when flecks of blood were still smeared against his knuckles as a result of an impromptu rescue mission. The satisfying snap of cartilage under his fist after one good sucker punch to Talan’s smug face still echoed in his mind, blood gushing from the surely broken nose while the biologist stumbled backwards into the shelves. Edix wondered if he would be reprimanded for that by the directors later, or if Talan would be too proud to report the ass kicking, maybe even taking the lesson to heart to not fuck with his things in the future. And yes, that included trying to vivisect his sweet little pet.

How was I supposed to know the stray belonged to you? He had asked with sarcastic innocence, as if the human in question hadn’t been seen with Edix a thousand times before, and wasn’t drenched in his scent, and didn’t have his ID code printed on the back of its little suit, Maybe if you weren’t such a wuss and actually put it on a shorter leash-

Asshole. He was lucky Edix’s only goal at the moment was to get the little one off the table and back to the appropriate sector rather than rip Talan to shreds with his own tools. A taste of his own medicine, perhaps. Still, he admittedly did have a point about the human, what with how much it would run off and get lost and damn near killed. He simply couldn’t figure out what was so terrible about staying in his company that the little one would risk injury and mutilation in a foreign environment as opposed to the safety and comfort he so desperately tried to provide for it. They might have had a bit of a rocky start, sure, but stars above that was far in the past now. There’s nothing either of them can do to change the facts so why not accept things as they are and make some type of effort to be happy in this new life? By all accounts, Edix was a great owner!

And yet, the little one still fought him every step of the way. Even now, having just saved it from a fate of having its tiny organs sliced while it was wide awake, it made it known it did not want to be near him anymore. It might have been clinging to him the entire walk back to the bedroom, but it must have remembered it was supposed to be oblivious to the notion of genuine love and safety because now it started to stutter out little squeaks on top of struggling. Normally, Edix adored any and all of the sounds it made, especially when it was directly trying to talk to him which only served to give him the mental image of a pup mindlessly babbling before they managed their first few words. This time, however, it only worsened his irritation.

“Stop.” He ordered, which the human somewhat complied with, though it probably had more to do with his harsher tone and the fact that he was already lowering his hand towards the bed to set it down. As soon as it was free of his hold, it scrambled back, looking at him with those wide brown eyes that were full of so much fear it made him sick. Why did it have to be so afraid of him? What could he have possibly done that even now, almost a cycle later, it was still overtly wary of his intentions. All he ever did was care for it. Feed it, pet it, cuddle it, protect it, and still nothing was good enough!

With a tired sigh, he rubbed his hand down his face and resisted the urge to tug at his hair. “I just don’t understand,” he pleaded, begging some cosmic being out there to suddenly grant the little one the power to understand what he was saying, “what can I possibly do to prove to you that I’m not going to hurt you? I’m trying to keep you alive and it’s like...I don’t know, you resent me for that or something!”

The sweet thing looked more confused at his words than anything, but he could tell his body language and voice were making it uneasy. The human was used to soft words and purrs and slow movements, rarely any agitation in his being. After a beat of silence marked by an intense stare down, Edix gave up on hoping the earthling would miraculously explain itself and open up to sharing its thoughts on the matter. He reached for it and it instinctively back up, flinching when a growl rumbled in his throat in response.

“Stop running,” it was a fruitless endeavor, but like hell if he wouldn’t stop trying. That was how new pups learned how to understand a language anyways, wasn’t it? To repeat certain words over and over until they got the idea? Maybe that’s all he needed to do here, maybe by now it already knew the Venandi words for no, stop, be good, and so on. He reached for it again and it did the same thing as last time, always sure to stay just out of the most convenient reach. Not that it mattered how much it inched away seeing how it was trapped on the bed with Edix directly in front of it, but it was the principal of the matter.

And it was then that something inside him snapped. Something primal as a result of dealing with an unruly pup far too long for his nerves to handle at this moment. He wasn’t even aware of his actions, belatedly realizing how he pounced on the bed in a flash, the human scrambling to get away but only having enough time to turn around before being roughly pinned on its stomach against the mattress. His teeth were bared and pressed tightly against its back, fangs scraping against the layers of its clothes to no doubt bruise the tender flesh underneath, though thankfully they didn’t break the skin. A loud growl reverberated though its entire body, shaking it to its core.

“Enough.” He hissed against its back, keeping his teeth pressed into its skinny frame for a moment longer before pulling away. The second he did, his glare softened, all the anger he felt gone in an instant as soon as he saw the sight underneath him.

The poor thing was absolutely petrified.

It was probably the worst it’s ever been scared, arguably. Not even the first time they met, when it had so gracefully tumbled down that hill and landed face first in front of him, compared to the level of fear that radiated off it. A split-second thought had Edix wondering if he had legitimately scared it to death. Soon enough, though, he was able to pick up the minute tremors that shook through it, almost like an aftershock of the warning that it felt more than heard. It was pale, baby face devoid of color not unlike that time before when it had been sick with fever. But its eyes...those sweet little doe eyes he loved so much were wide and wet with a sheen of tears that refused to fall, locked in a blank stare straight ahead towards the wall and refusing to look at him.

A small, choked hiccup made its body twitch every couple of breaths, but it refused to open its mouth to allow any of these sniffles to turn into cries. Shit, it refused to move at all, too terrified of Edix’s threat display that if it did anything he didn’t like there would be dire consequences to pay. He supposed it worked exactly as intended, in that case. It was still, it was quiet, it was technically obeying him after he just forced it to behave via alternative punishment. That didn’t change the fact that he felt absolutely, terribly, extremely awful about what he just did.

It was just a pup, as he always said, regardless of what Ylva would tell him about human adolescence and such. It didn’t know any better, it had never been raised in these situations before and needed much longer than a measly cycle to unlearn all of its prey behaviors it needed to survive on its home planet. Besides, it wasn’t that it didn’t fully know that it was perfectly safe with Edix, it was smart enough to know he was at the very least the safest option when presented with any other Venandi. Edix had been upset, and it knew he was upset, so of course it would want to avoid a potentially hostile predator before-

--before it snatched the little one in its teeth.

Fuck, fuck, he was an idiot. Maybe he wasn’t as cut out for this as he thought, not like Ylva who was the very essence of motherhood. No. Now wasn’t the time for self doubts and pity, not when the human was in such a state. Slowly, hands cupped around its shaking form, mindful to make sure his fingers were in its view so it wouldn’t be any more startled when he lifted it up, not that he was completely sure it was actually seeing anything in front of it. The little one hardly reacted to the movement, laying limp when he pressed it against his chest and moved to sit up against the headboard of the bed in a similar fashion to what he had done the first night the poor thing was on the ship.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s okay,” he whispered to it, rubbing his thumb along the curve of its back just how it liked whenever it dozed, “you’re okay, we’re fine, it’s okay to cry. I’m sorry I scared you, I’m so sorry.”

Normally in these types of instances, he’d be purring and shushing the little sweetheart until he was able to get it down for a nap, but he had little confidence that any other types of chest vibrations would have its usual effect of making the human drowsy currently. When it finally started blinking again, the tears that had welled up ran freely down its cheeks, quickly biting down on its wobbling lip to prevent any sobs from escaping and get it in trouble for misbehaving. He softly clicked his tongue at it and cooed, anything to put it at ease with a softer demeanor. “I know, honey, I know. I won’t ever do that again, I promise."

Well, if nothing else, at least the little one’s apprehension of him wasn’t unfounded anymore, much to his dismay.

[imkylotrash]

Night Hunting

Pairing: Saul Silva x reader

Request: She met him in pub, after one of the hunts and they've kept in touch. But he didn't tell her where he's from and she didn't tell him that she is a hunter. Things change when one of the hunts goes wrong and reader somehow gets to the Alfea. One of the kids get hurt and reader is suspected, but she recognizes which monster it is and goes on a hunt. Anonymous

Tagging: @grey-girl @intoanothermind @anreeixcobra @kingunder221b @lflores2008 @alexiapayne12 @quuenofblacks @quarterback-5 @estelmei @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @artsyle​ @baueoud @glowingatdawn @shadowhuntyi @alice-the-nerd

"You're looking awfully lonely," you state sitting down next to the stranger in the bar. You're lucky enough to have the evening to yourself as you wait for Sam and Dean to return from the library. You only just got to town and Sam was already doing the research while Dean had been dragged along much against his will.

"I have company," he says holding up his beer. He sounds grumpy and like he's looking for a distraction. You can definitely be his distraction.

It's not the last time you meet the stranger called Saul. It becomes somewhat of a tradition to meet up whenever you're in town. And with a face like Saul's, you make sure you're in town a lot. You admit to Dean why you're always so eager to return to California because he's your twin and you've never been able to hide anything from him but Sam remains in the dark. You don't need two brothers teasing you about your little crush.

"You know what it'll cost you if I'm going to keep your secret," Dean says very matter-of-factly.

"What?" you ask already regretting the decision to confide in Dean.

"My music plays for all of four months in the car with no objection. And you buy me every piece of pie I even look at," he says and you groan in protest. It's the one thing you've always disagreed about. You both hate each other's music taste.

"Deal," you say somewhat begrudgingly before getting ready for the hunt. You're already wishing for it to be over so you can meet up with Saul. You have no idea what goes wrong but the wendigo gets you with its claws. In the chaos of the fight, you stumble through a portal of some kind leaving behind the tiny town of Gardenia and your brothers only to find your way to a forest. You try to head back but the door refuses to budge which concerns you a little because Sam and Dean are still back there with the monster.

It's the screeching noise that convinces you to move away from the shed and into a world, you didn't even know existed. It's pure luck that you make it through the forest to find some huge mansion. It's eerily quiet in the darkness of the night which makes you feel even more uneasy. Where the hell did you end up? Blood is still pouring from the gash and you have nothing to bandage it with.

"Shit," you mumble as you spot the lights of a car heading your way. You hide behind a tree feeling yourself grow weaker from the blood loss. The last thing you remember is someone saying your name before you pass out.

When you come to, you're lying in a soft bed that you definitely didn't find on your own. It takes you a few seconds to realise that this is not a good sign. You have no idea where you are and how you got here. Dean would be disappointed in you. The hunter in you takes over as you quietly get to your feet ignoring the throbbing pain in your abdomen. You're about to open the door to take a peek at what's outside of this room when someone beats you to it.

"Saul?" You don't believe your eyes. What is he doing here?

"What are you doing out of bed?" he ushers you back to bed and he means it nicely but you're already wondering how you could miss that he wasn't a normal human being. There are about two dozen theories running through your mind as you try to remember every little detail of what's happened up until now.

"How did you find this place?" he asks more serious than you've ever seen him. You keep quiet not wanting to give away your only advantage right now. You know

"Look, I know this is all very scary but I need you to talk to me because right now, I've got people on the other side of that door suspecting you of almost killing one of our students last night. And I'm trying to convince them that you're not that type of person." Your eyes open wide from pure shock. The wendigo must've followed you instead of the guys. But how did the student get away from the wendigo? It's near impossible to win over a wendigo at night.

"I didn't hurt anyone. But I think I know what did." He doesn't stop you this time when you get out of bed. Instead, he lets you lean on him for support.

"I need to see the student before I'm sure," you inform Saul and he takes you to the infirmary right away leading you past a man and a woman who looks ready to murder you.

"Friendly crowd," you mumble and Saul has to contain a smile.

==

"It's definitely a wendigo. I was hunting one last night and it must've followed me here." Imagine your surprise when all they do is look at you like you've gone completely crazy. It's so weird being around people who are not used to this life. If this had been Sam and Dean, you'd already be out looking for it.

"Care to elaborate a little?" Saul asks. The student is completely passed out but you still feel weird talking about it in front of him.

"Maybe we could go somewhere private then? I need to sit down anyway." You need to gather as much strength as you possibly can if you're going to go out and kill a wendigo - and time is ticking. The sun will go down in a couple of hours and you're not hunting that thing in the dark.

"What's a wendigo?" It's the first time the woman has spoken directly to you and you sort of wish she would've continued not talking to you. Her appearance scares you more than most of the monsters you've hunted.

"To keep it short, it was once a human and now it's a monster feeding on human beings. It normally hibernates with enough victims to keep it fed. Fire is the easiest way to kill it but I assure you, it's not as easy as it sounds." You still want to know how the hell the student got away from the wendigo considering they've never faced one before. How is he not dead?

"Have you killed one before?" the woman asks and you just nod.

"It's not easy. That kid in there should feel lucky he survived. I've never seen a human escape the claws of a wendigo." The tension is thick enough to cut it with a knife. Saul clears his throat ignoring the pointed look from the woman.

"We run a school for fairies. The student is a fire fairy. We're assuming he used his powers to escape." Fire fairy? This is definitely not good.

"Farah, we'll need to close off the school until we find it." The woman, who you now know is called Farah, agrees. She hurries off with the other man leaving you alone with Saul.

"You're a fairy?"

"No. I'm a specialist." You have so many questions but you sort through them only asking the most vital ones for now. The clock is ticking and you need to get out there.

"You can't hunt like that," Saul protests but he has no idea that you've been in much worse shape than this.

"I'll be fine." You lean in and kiss him because it's been a weird day and you need just one normal thing to happen. Kissing Saul is that normal thing.

"Just in case I don't get to do that again," you say but you can't keep a straight face. Saul looks about ready to chain you to the bed just to make sure you don't go anywhere.

"You need to learn how to take a joke. This is what I do for a living, Saul. I'll be fine," you chuckle but it's clear that you out there hunting definitely doesn't seem like a good idea to Saul. Lucky for you, you won't have to go out there alone. In the blink of an eye, your brothers and Crowley have teleported into the room. Dean immediately pins Saul against the wall.

"Are you okay?" he yells making you roll your eyes.

"Let him go, Dean. That's Saul." It takes a second for Dean to realise what you're saying and even longer for Crowley and Sam.

"He's sort of my boyfriend ish. We haven't really discussed the terms yet." Your cheeks turn red as you lock eyes with Saul. You've just thrown the b-word but he doesn't seem bothered by it at all.

"Wait, how did you even get here?"

"I'm the King of Hell, love. It's my job to know about all realms." There's going to be a long conversation between you and Saul to explain everything but right now the focus needs to be on the wendigo.

"Let's go hunting."

[solara-bean]

 Grimmjow Headcanons Plus a Few x S/O ones 

( pretty sure I read some of these somewhere but I forgot so here's a self indulgent list :)

He died in his early twenties so he's still pretty young mentally but physically as a hollow he's old as hell

He's European

He takes a lot of naps in random places such as the roof of Las Noches

In fact he does a lot of cat like stuff and doesn’t realize it

He can purr but rarely and it’s mostly in his sleep 

When he became an arrancar he had long hair similar to his release form. It kept getting in the way so he cut it

he doesn’t like wearing clothes

Him and his fraccion use to sleep close together in case they were ambushed by other adjuchas and still did even after they became arrancars

They didn’t think much of it. Except Di Roy. He’d say it was weird and ‘un-masculine’ to which Grim would tell him to shut up and go to sleep after laying an arm or a leg over his face. 

Di Roy would also occasionally guilt trip him

Grimmjow: You’re too weak to fight with us.

Di Roy: I wouldn’t be if someone didn’t bite my face off. 

Grimm:..........fine! do whatever you want. See if I care. 

He was actually much closer to them than he let on

Most of the epsada knew it. Especially after Syazel threatened to experiment on them since they were ‘expendable.’ He did his best to avoid Grimmjow after that.

He only really got to grieve of their deaths when the war against Aizen ended

As much as he genuinely enjoyed fighting Ichigo it was also a distraction from all the pain he tried to burry

Harribel and Nelliel helped him with his grief

They became sort of friends afterwards tho he still tries to fight them both on a weekly basis 

Refers to Pantera with female pronouns 

One perk of most of Los Noches’ inhabitants being defeated is the nearly infant amount of space. So he was able to choose his own room

He keeps it surprisingly tidy aside from the nicknacks he’s hoarded from wandering around Hueco Mundo

His bed is full of pillows as a substitute of having a pack to sleep with

When asked he’ll say its for comfort

Nelliel: Have you seen my pillow? 

Grimmjow: * sitting on it in his pillow pile* No.

He steals everyone’s stuff now and then but mostly Nel’s cuz he likes to mess with her ( insert low key sibling energy )

He talks to animals like people

Grimmjow: I told you to stop crossing the street at the red light idiot!

Cat: Meow

Grimm: Don’t talk back to me you little shit!!

Hangs out at Urahara’s place when he’s in the living world and not trying to fight Ichigo

Likes human food. Especially meat.

Grimmjow: *eating bacon for the first time* hmm tastes like hollows but better

Ichigo:.....I’m sorry what??!!

Was dared that he couldn’t beat Yoruichi at twister. He won five crates of snacks to bring back to Hueco Mundo ( may or may not have shared them cuz “ they gave me too much so take it or I’ll throw it out” )

Says things around the characters in the living world about his terrible experience under Aizen’s rule like it’s normal

Grimmjow: *having another rematch with Ichigo* Damn that almost hurt as much as Tousen slicing my arm off

Ichigo: *pauses the fight* Tousen did WHAT?!!

Becomes friends with Ichigo but won’t admit it.

Somewhat apologizes to Orihime and Rukia for what he did. But not Ichigo cuz he’ll do it all again but with less deadly intent.

Learns how to cook

Likes just about any kind of movie/show. He isn’t picky 

Would get his 6 tattoo edited to something else if it bothered him

Would freakin die for Kazui!!! 

Here are the S/O ones:

Is pansexual so gender isn’t an issue

Prefers someone who can beat him up but is ok with a human if he feels a very strong connection to them

Doesn’t really have a physical type honestly 

Will admire things about their appearance cuz he likes it on them and not in general

Will be in complete denial about his feelings at first 

Like “hollows aren’t meant to love” and all that ish 

Makes up excuses to hangout with them but it’s mostly for his own benefit

“ I don’t like them. They just have a nice movie collection.” “ I don’t like them. They’re just nice to spar with.” “ I don’t like them. They’re just nice to talk to.” “I don’t like them. They just make me feel safe when I sleep next to them.” 

Gives them random things he’s found when wondering around Hueco Undo’s desserts like gems and cool sharp bones

Let's them hold and even use Pantera

Starts to unconsciously turn off his hierro when he’s with them. It causes a lot of fliching and embarrassing gasps when they touch him since he’s not use to feeling so much

Did I mention he’s touch starved?

Like a lot.

Holding his hand for too long would literally kill him

Once he’s gotten use to feeling something other than pain from another person he starts to let them touch him more. Like hugs. Lots of hugs. 

He even lets them rub his release form’s cat ears

Then here come the purrs. Louder than they’ve ever been before! It startles them both. He denied it but the blush gave him away.

He’ll do his best to purr more often since his s/o likes it so much. Such as when they’re cuddled up for a nap. Though he doesn’t really have to try.

Is confused as to why they like to squish his toe beans but lets them do it anyway

Wraps his tail around them in his release form

Will let them braid his long hair

Will also let them paint his claws as well as put makeup on him

He’s a total pushover ( insert the ‘please for me’ meme )

Is very protective of them

“ Why are you sad? Do I need to kill someone?”

If asked will follow his s/o when they’re out at night so they feel safe. Potential muggers? Thrown by an unknown force. Stalker? Punched by an unknown force. Cat callers in a car? Car gets flipped over by an unknown force.

Eventually no one bothers them at all cuz word goes around that they’re protected by a ghost or something else supernatural.

They’re of the few that can call him by a nickname and survive. Grimm, Grimmy, Grimmykins, Grimmy-kun, Kitty, Kitten, Catboy, Stinky cat, Baby boy, Baby boi, Big guy, Tough guy, My Arancar, My love, My one and only, Handsome, Blueberry. Literally anything is fine with him.

But call him My King and he’s done for. Dead. A second time. Deceased all over again. His heart will reform just to burst out of existence. 

Takes them to Hueco Mundo a few times 

Makes a pillow fort with them with his hoard of pillows 

Will be skeptical as to why they like him and won’t be surprised if they get tired of him and break up

But oh no! They’re in it for the long run! You’re stuck with them Grimmykins:)

Would most likely say I love you without even realizing it till later

Grimm: *blushes* F*CK!!

Harribel: *pauses the meeting* Is there something wrong?

Grimm: I told Y/n that I love them before I left without realizing it! *puts his face in his hands and groans* I’m so screwed.

Nel: Well it’s about damn time!

Harribel: Congrats Grimmjow

Grimm: *groans and blushes some more*

If he really loves them he’ll find a way to weaken his immortality so they can grow old together ( yes it’ sappy but he figures he’ll get bored after they long gone )

Might go to Mayuri for help and becomes his lab rat in return. Won’t tell his s/o till it’s done so they won’t try to stop him.

It’s not fun. Like at all ( insert angsty fit energy here ). But it works and as an added bonus him and his s/o can have kids if they’d like

A great dad. Incredibly supportive and loving. Mess with them and you’re dead. Or at least scarred for life. No one messes with his cubs.  

Grimm: Isn’t it weird that our kids are best friends?

Ichigo: No. We’re friends.

Grimm: I tried to kill you.

Ichigo: Who hasn’t?

Grimm: I’ll drink to that.

Ichigo: That’s a juice box.

Grimm: Have you seen my kids? The last time I wasn’t sober they ceroed the roof off and beat up a hollow. There’s no way I’m missing that again.

[dontshootmespence]

Home Again

Summary: Spencer and Luke are happily married when the world goes to shit. In the chaos, they’re separated. After years, each one presumes the other dead. Until one day.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Luke Alvez

Word Count: 3,564

Warning: Zombie apocalypse shit. Character deaths. 

A/N: This fulfills my apocalypse au square for @cmbingo​. 

Inside their mid-size apartment, Luke dances to his favorite music as he moves about the kitchen, getting dinner ready for when Spencer comes home. A medical researcher’s work was never really done, but in the years since they’d gotten married, Spencer made a commitment to be home by every night at 6PM unless they discussed otherwise. 

Turning on the nightly news, Luke saw what looked like a pretty severe car accident on the road that Spencer normally took on the way home. He pulled out his phone and dialed, hoping to give his husband a head’s up about the driving conditions, but it went straight to voicemail. “Hey, Spence, it’s me. I mean, of course it’s me,” he laughed. “But anyway, I’m working on dinner now and I just saw the news. There’s a big accident on I-275 so you might want to take another way home if you can. I’ll see you in a little bit. Love you.”

As Luke slipped the chicken into the pot, he heard what sounded like another car wreck and ran to the window, sticking his head out to see a car on its side and one man running clumsily after another. A knock at the door distracted him from the damage on the street below. 

“Luke, it’s Steven. Open up.”

Steven was their neighbor and a college student. They rarely ever spoke. “Steven, what’s wrong?”

“There’s something wrong, man. People are going crazy out there. They’re attacking each other and...and eating each other. It’s like there are...”

Luke couldn’t help but laugh. “Do not say zombies. There’s no such thing, kid.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Steven insisted. “Something is happening. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll pack up some essentials and get moving. Apparently, it started at the Recovered Exploration Lab downtown and people, zombies, whatever they are, they’re headed this way. I just wanted to give you a heads up.”

Steven sped down the stairs in a panic, leaving Luke’s focus to drift back to the television. “We’re here just above Recovered Exploration Lab where the breakout of what looks like zombies seems to have started,” the news anchor started. “On the ground, people are ripping and tearing and eating each other in what seems to be a real-life apocalypse, folks. At this time we don’t know what caused it, but we can assume that the staff at Recovered Exploration have been keeping secrets. This is WLVW Channel 2 News. Back to you in the studio.”

Luke couldn’t believe what he was hearing and ran back to the window to see even more people than before ambling down the street. Cursing under his breath, he pulled out his phone again and dialed Spencer again. “Spence, have you heard what’s on the news? Are they talking about it on the radio? They’re saying it’s a real life zombie apocalypse out there and I’m, I’m, I’m, uh, looking out the window and people are attacking each other. There’s a swarm of people heading toward the apartment so I’m grabbing some essentials for us. Meet me at our diner okay? Then we can figure out what to do. Be safe, Spence. I love you.”

Running into their bedroom, Luke grabbed the biggest backpack he could find and anything he thought they might need. Spare clothes, toiletries, canned food, a can opener, toilet paper, some sharp knives and his guns from work. “What else?” He spoke into the empty room. On the wall hung their favorite picture from their wedding. He and Spencer wore matching tuxes and walked hand in hand along a lit-up, tree-lined path. Lost in thought, the commotion brought him back. He stuffed the picture into the backpack and ran downstairs, hoping that this was all a dream.

----

Having heard both of Luke’s messages, Spencer took an alternative route home, but unfortunately, he ran into another accident, slamming on the brakes as two cars crashed into stopped cars in front of them. With traffic at a standstill, he pulled his phone out and tried to call Luke. Obviously, there had to be another explanation for what was happening. 

As he was about to try calling for a second time, he saw someone in the wreckage ahead, who he’d previously assumed to be dead, jerk back to life. Slowly, she go up from the ground and shuffled toward an office that had his back turned. When an ear-shattering scream resounded through the air, Spencer dropped his phone. She wasn’t the only one.

A man from a nearby car knocked on Spencer’s window. “Buddy, we need to get out of here. You have anything that might help?” 

“Like what?” Spencer asked, voice quivering as he picked up his phone from the car floor and shoved it back in his pocket. Quickly, he searched the car for anything that might be helpful. His keys.

“Anything in the trunk?” The man asked, grabbing Spencer’s arm and yanking him away from the incoming crowd. “We need to move now.” 

His mind had blanked. After grabbing the emergency preparedness bag from the trunk of the car that Luke insisted he have, he and the unnamed man ran over the highway barrier and away from the traffic. “I need to get to the diner on Jones and Washington,” Spencer said. “Do you know it? My husband said to meet him there.”

Staring back into the growing see of screaming and ambling bodies, the man replied. “I don’t think you’re going that way, kid.”

----

Stumbling down into the street they lived on, Luke looked around in horror. He ran. He ran as hard and as fast as his body would allow, staying clear of any of the infected like his life depended on it. Right now, it did. 

Luke wavered between walking and running in the general direction of the diner he knew so well. For five years, every Friday, he and Spencer would head there for a greasy burger and fries and some of the best milkshakes either of them had ever tasted. 

The farther he traveled from the apartment, the less insanity he seemed to encounter, but still, his heart beat with reckless abandon as he peered around every corner. If whatever this was didn’t get resolved soon, every street, every city, every state would be something to fear. No longer would he and Spencer be able to go to the local park and bask in the sun. No more walks on the beach. No more calm and colorful sunsets. “You’re getting ahead of yourself,” he muttered to himself. “Just get to the diner.”

Using landmarks to guide his way (so that he could keep his phone on and pray for a call from Spencer), he crossed what he believed was the halfway point between the apartment and the restaurant. They now lived in a world where people ate each other and rose from the dead, but it was the groups of human beings taking this whole situation as a free for all that he had to avoid most of all. 

As he hurriedly turned the corner, Luke bumped into a group of nervous but determined young adults. The youngest couldn’t have been 16 and the oldest topped 25 at the most. By the looks of the straggling adults, most of them had already lost someone or taken this new world as an excuse to ditch their families and fend for themselves. The most self-assured of the bunch stepped in toward Luke and looked at his bag. “Seems like you’re well stocked.”

“For a couple days,” he replied, carefully taking a small step backward. “For my spouse and I until this whole thing blows over.” He spoke the words, but something told him ‘this whole thing’ wasn’t going to be over anytime soon. 

With each step Luke took back, the young man stepped forward and tried to yank the bag from his grasp. “Sorry, kiddo. That ain’t happening.” Before the other man could swing his gun from his back and into his hand, Luke had his pulled and aimed. “Don’t. I don’t wanna hurt people. You walk away. I’ll walk away and we’ll pretend this never happened.”

The next moments passed by in a blur - kids running, bullets flying. Luke didn’t glance back, running away from the screams and toward the diner with tears in his eyes. He just shot a kid. A kid who was just trying to survive in whatever the hell this new world was. 

----

Days passed before Spencer and his party of misfits arrived at the diner. Jim was the man that shook him to reality. On the way they’d also run into a single mother named Avery and her 3-year-old son, Chase, who were being harassed by a couple of guys who just didn’t want to take no for an answer. Although they tried to resolve things peacefully, Jim killed the one that pulled a gun on him and the other ran away. From there, they all went to Jim’s former precinct and grabbed whatever guns they could find. Unlike Luke, Spencer wasn’t used to holding guns, but he was going to have to get accustomed quickly.

Normally, the diner looked reminiscent of the 50s. Crisp black and white checkered floors, red leather seats, clean white tables and chrome chairs at similarly colored bar-tops. Now there were skid marks on the floors, dinged counters and bits of food all over the floor. The kitchen had already been ransacked so very little decent food was left, but they stocked up on what they could and waited. 

Nearly a week went by before Jim insisted they leave. “I know your husband was going to meet you here, Spencer, but if we stay any longer we’re putting ourselves in danger. We don’t wanna use all our gunpower to defend this place when we can’t stay here.”

Spencer knew he was right, but the thought of leaving hurt his heart. “I’m never going to see my husband again, am I, Jim?”

The older man just looked at him sadly, resting his hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Call him. You’ve still got a little power left. Leave a message. And hope for the best. I’ll give you a minute before we head out.” 

Spencer thanked him softly and went into the back room before pulling out the phone. Shakily, he dialed Luke one more time. “Hey, babe. I’ve been at the diner for almost a week. I don’t know what happened to you...or,” his voice broke, “or if you’re even still alive, but if you are, I’m headed toward my mother’s nursing home. I need to see if she’s okay. I have no idea if we’re ever going to see each other again. I hope we are. But if we aren’t, I need you know that the years we’ve been together, the years we’ve been married, they’ve been the best and happiest of my life. Studying what I study, it can suck the life out of you, but seeing you in the mornings, the sun shining on your face, it gave me that little push I needed to go do what I do. You changed my life, Luke. I love you so much. If you’re out there, and you can’t get to me, just know that, I love you with everything I have.”

Quickly, he ended the call and shoved the phone back in his pocket before breaking down sobbing. He allowed himself a few minutes and then met Jim, Avery and Chase outside. They’d all agreed to head in the direction of his mother’s nursing home. Spencer prayed that Luke and his mother were still alive. And safe.

----

After shooting the kid, Luke ran into a building a melted down. Sure, he’d had to shoot people before. He’d killed people before. But this was different. This was practically a kid whose only crime was trying to look out for the group he was with. Between dodging zombies and dodging other people, it took Luke almost two full weeks to get to the diner, but by the time he arrived, if Spencer had been there, he was gone. 

Despite the possibility of nearby zombies or walkers or whatever he’d heard people calling them, Luke screamed at the top of his lungs and lost it. Without finding him here, there was no guarantee that they were ever going to see each other again. In his search for any salvageable supplies, he came across random papers, broken glass, ripped bandages - but nothing of use. 

When he glanced down at the floor, he saw Spencer’s signature and hurriedly picked it up, but the other pieces of whatever note he left were too ripped up and dirty and stepped on for him to make out what it said. As his fingers slid over his husband’s name, a tear fell from his eye. If Spencer was still alive, he was likely headed in the direction his mother lived. 

“Hello?” A small voice broke Luke from his train of thought. He spun around, his hand on the gun in his holster. “Please don’t hurt me,” the girl said. Dirt and dried blood covered her face and her eyes conveyed a lifetime of hurt. “Please.”

Luke lowered his gun. “How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

Luisa had been right in the eye of the storm at the start of this whole thing weeks earlier. “My papa died trying to save my mama. And then she was bitten trying to save my sister and I. She saved me, but it was too late for Josephine. My mother lost too much blood. She fell asleep and never woke up and I had to- I had to put her out of her misery. I’m all alone.”

“Not anymore, kiddo. “You’ll stay with me.”

“Thank you - “

“Luke.”

“Thank you, Luke.”

----

The weeks that followed put Spencer’s band of misfits went through the ringer. After detouring around a group of people that would’ve outnumbered them three to one had they decided they wanted trouble, they had to fight their way through a hoard of walkers. Though they had few weapons, they managed, but not without Jim being bitten. 

“Kid, you know without a medic around this tourniquet is just stopping the inevitable. The bastard nicked my brachial artery,” Jim said, heavily drawing in each breath as it came to him. “You’ve got to take the weapons and keep those two safe for as long as you can. Maybe find your husband again.”

Spencer swallowed the lump in his throat. “I could go find-”

“No way. There’s a hoard at our backs and only Lord knows what up ahead. I won’t have you risking that for me.”

Over and over again, Spencer tried to reason with him, but in a way Jim was right. He had no idea what was up ahead and even if he found a medic there was no guarantee that he’d get back in time to save Jim. “I’m sorry,” Spencer said, placing a handgun in his palm. “I really am.”

“I know, kid. I have you find your husband again. Now get going.”

Once Spencer grabbed the weapons Jim had, he gathered up Avery and Chase and headed out into the unknown. A gunshot rang out and the crows fled into the sky. Hope was waning fast.

----

On their way to Diana’s nursing home, Spencer, Avery and Chase faced no further challenges. As soon as they detected voices, they headed away from them, preferring to stay in their small group of three than risk bringing other people into their ranks. They crossed the occasional zombie, but they were quickly dispatched.

Finally, they reached Diana’s home, but they were too late. Spencer found her alive, but too bloodied and bruised to move. “Mom, I’ll find someone. I won’t let you die,” Spencer said softly as he cried. “I can find someone to help and we can get you out of here.”

Diana was nothing if not a realist. “I’m going to die, Spencer. Soon probably. I just hope I can keep my wits about me until the sleep sets in. How’s Luke? Where is he? Is he-?”

“I don’t know,” Spencer sobbed. “You really want to talk about my life right now?’

“Yes. When I first saw this on the news, I thought I was having a nightmare, but it’s real and it’s unreal and I just want a sense of normalcy.”

Spencer radioed Avery to tell her where he was before curling in next to his mother. “I was on my way home from work when this all started. Luke was home. I-I haven’t seen him since and I don’t think I’m ever going to see him again. Mom, I’m so scared of being alone.”

“You’ll find him again,” Diana said weakly. 

“How do you know?”

“A mother knows. Remember?”

Spencer grabbed her hand and started reading the nearest book he could find. “Spencer...” she said, whisper soft. “It’s time for me to go to sleep.”

“No, mom, just a little bit longer.”

“Promise me something.”

“Anything.”

Diana fought for each breath. “Don’t let me turn into one of those things.”

Spencer choked out a sob. “I won’t.”

“And stay hopeful.” 

He promised he would, though he wasn’t sure it was a promise he could keep. “Mom?”

Nothing.

Before she could come back, he took a small gun out of his pocket, aimed, and fired. “I’ll try, Mom.”

----

Days passed into weeks passed into months passed into years. In a world changed, it changed those within in. Luke, once a confident and self-assured government agent, turned inward, going from one “safe haven” to another and sheltering himself and Luisa until their hideaway was discovered and they needed to move on, never once fighting for a place to call a makeshift home.

Through the years he lost himself, finding that instead of helping others, he did only what he had to do for he and Luisa to survive, never once taking a life, only dispatching zombies when need be. 

On the other hand, Spencer found himself hardening against the world. More than a year after everything began, Avery was overtaken by a hoard they passed, shoving Chase out of the crowd and toward Spencer. With her last breaths, she begged Spencer to take care of her son. Five years later, he and the almost nine-year-old boy headed a group of nearly 50 people, though numbers dwindled and rose from month to month. 

Spencer became a leader, but he confided in no one, killed if it was necessary to defend his “home”, and rarely spoke, shutting down in the face of any emotional connection. To connect was to lose, and he had lost enough. 

“Daniel and Alexa, you’ll accompany me into town for some supplies.” In addition to defending the makeshift community they’d developed, Spencer always sent out scouts to ensure that no one touched the supplies in surrounding towns. Less-looted stores were low in number and eventually he would need to conduct another reconnaissance mission to find supplies, but for now they would survive. “We leave within the hour.”

Smiles were few and far between, for Spencer more than most. However, the little boy he’d ended up raising as his son brought him a sliver of joy, along with his memories of Luke. They coaxed him to sleep at night and in the morning, he used them to make it through the day. “Chase, you know I love you, right?”

“I do, Spencer. Be careful okay? I can’t lose you.”

“I’ll be back.” He never promised, knowing more than most that sometimes the world was cruel. “Be good for Sandra.”

Though he was born before the world went to shit, Chase had essentially grown up in this new world. He was disciplined and trustworthy and more an adult than any almost nine-year-old boy should ever have to be.

On the way to gather supplies, Spencer zoned out, only gathering little bits of the conversation going on behind him. Both Daniel and Alexa had lost spouses at the start of the apocalypse and something told Spencer they were seeking comfort in one another now that they were “safe.” Funny how the meaning of a word could change in such a short amount of time.

While out for supplies, Spencer had insisted that no one go anywhere alone, so the three entered the hardware store in search of anything they could use as a weapon. As he gathered ropes and zip ties and wrenches into his supply bag, he heard Alexa and Daniel call for him. “Boss!”

Spencer approached the two, their guns raised and ready to fire. In the line of sight was a young woman, sheltered by a man. He closed his eyes and begged the universe for this not to be a joke, his mind playing tricks on him. When Spencer opened his eyes, he remained. “Luke?”

He smiled and immediately broke into tears. “Spence? You’re, you’re-”

Pushing past Daniel and Alexa, Spencer ran into Luke’s arms on the verge of tears, pressing his lips to his husband’s for the first time in nearly seven years. “I’m alive. And you’re here. How are you here?”

“Because I’m a different person. You?”

“Me too,” Spencer said sadly. “Everything’s changed. Except what I feel for you. I’m finally home again.”

[hey-nick-your-thoughts]

The habit of sleeping in had been long lost on me. Even though I slept the shock and stiffness off for days after leaving the vault, it eventually became habitual for me to wake up early in the morning. For a year, it had often been to the rising sun but in the detective agency it remained an elusive sight. Bricks shuttered the entire bottom floor off from the rest of the world happening around it. Even the top floor had been covered and recovered in various materials over the past decade or more. 

The residing detective's voice rang out as he approached the doorway of his bedroom, "Come on." He was, undoubtedly, anticipating that I was already awake for the day. 

Normally, I was quick to wake up at the sound of his voice. While traveling through a myriad of police stations all over the commonwealth, I had associated hearing his voice while I was sleeping with needing to suddenly be alert. An alarm no different from sirens of days passed. 

I couldn't move. Caught between a rough mattress and a pilled blanket, my body felt like it was both freezing and dripping in sweat. 

"Not like you to sleep in," he approached the side of my fabric prison, his amber eyes boring holes of concern into every inch of exposed skin, "You feeling okay, doll?" He placed his good hand against my forehead, pushing back my bangs to get a good reading. 

I found myself thinking about how receptive his synthetic skin must have been. Was it exactly like that of a human hand? Did it connect to things like thermometers to send the information to his system in order to tell the difference between hot and cold?

"A little warm." He pulled the blanket up to cover the small amount of shoulders that I had exposed. I felt the heft of the blanket against my collarbone. 

The detective stood up and I found myself immediately needing to roll over to reach for the bucket next to the bed. Draining the contents of my stomach into it all at once, I tried to muffle the sound so as not to wake Ellie. 

I then attempted to sit up and instead leaned against the wall with nausea floating in the pit of what was left in my stomach. "Maybe it's radiation sickness."

"Thought I heard one storm pass by last night." Knocking a metallic hand against the heavy bricks, Nick speculated, "These old walls may not have kept all of it out." 

"I don't have any RadAway around," I commented, recalling that the space in the drawer that used to house it was now housing a bag of tools instead. After reading that taking it often could cause hair loss, among other issues, I decided to switch completely over to using Rad-X instead. It was only preventative for a certain amount of time, but if I knew there would be any issues, I could pop one of the pills rather quickly and still keep my auburn locks. 

"Solomon usually keeps a ready supply of it. Why don't I go nab a pack?" In an almost repeating motion, Nick covered my shoulders with the old brown blanket again. I nodded, a chill crawling from the back of my neck only to turn into fire by the time it reached my toes. 

When the door closed, I found myself at the bucket again. I held a messy braid back with one hand and the blanket together with the other. A bead of sweat rolled down the edge of my face as I leaned over. 

Without me, Nick didn't have to worry about losing days of progress due to illness. Growing in a world kinder than this, I found that I was often feeling weak and helpless. A different hopelessness than the abusive home I had escaped only to end up here. Perhaps it was because someone else was being affected this time. It wasn't just me that I felt responsible for in regards to feelings anymore. 

In a moment of respite and feeling sorry for myself, I felt my eyelids drooping and welcoming me to more rest. I leaned against the cool, concrete wall and shut them. 

The door to the agency creaked open. A common sound that tended to make my heart beat a little faster. Something about him coming into that door made me feel less lonely, turning me into a twisted version of Pavlov's Dog. 

His boots played elegant notes across the splintered wooden floor. The synthetic melody played around the corner, accompanied by the RadAway in his hand, and continued to the dresser at the end of the bed. 

Black and gold eyes realized enough space to sit down at the foot of the bed, not too far where I was leaned against the wall. His weight pulled down on the mattress but it was comforting. "I talked to Doc Sun." 

"And?" 

"He thinks it might be food poisoning." Golden rings looked from me and to the bucket, "I'm inclined to believe him." 

It wasn't the first time I had food poisoning and it was true that radiation sickness felt much different than this current hell I was going through. 

The last time I could remember having food poisoning was when I threw up in front of my father just before the school bus was supposed to pick me up. He didn't want any calls from the school asking where I was, presumably because child services might make a visit due to previous issues. Instead he took one pill from every bottle in the medicine cabinet and made me take them all before sending me to school. I spent the entire day not knowing of my own existence. Before going into that state and after coming out of it, I remember being terrified but remembered nothing in between. 

But if I could dissociate that well through the current churning of my stomach, it would be something of a welcomed miracle.

"Said there's been a few cases of it around in the last 24 hours. Should check on Ellie, too, when she wakes up." 

"In any case, he said we should treat you for that first before dosing you with the RadAway." 

I sighed, "Today of all days, Nick. I'm so sorry." 

He shook his head, the gray hat cropping his face with shadows from the dim lighting, "Better it happened in here than out there.' The detective stood up and pointed at the head of the barren bed, "Just try to get some rest. We can leave after you're better." 

Though I still felt bad about hindering his work, despite his words, I laid down again on the mattress. Auburn hair obscured my vision, the braid became uncomfortable beneath my weight even with the bed below. I pulled the stretched hair tie apart from a sea of red and gently parted the waves until it flooded the surface below.

When he brought a bowl of soup in the afternoon, I realized that he really wasn't as concerned with the new case as he was with my health. By then, my stomach couldn't possibly have had anything else inside. I was happy to finally taste something that wasn't my own vomit. 

"Is Ellie okay?" I asked the detective between sips. 

"She's fine. Maybe that helps narrow down the culprit." The culprit, this time, was whatever food had caused the city to get sick. 

"Maybe that meat I added to the mac and cheese."

"Maybe." He concurred before joining me in sitting on the bed again. "Should talk to Doc Sun and see if he can't get whatever it was off the market before it kills someone."

I nodded, taking another spoonful of the hot broth. "So, Nick? Your last case, the Eddie one... Is that the only thing you had planned for the rest of your life or is there something else?" 

"What do you mean?"

I crossed my legs and cupped the warm bowl in my lap, "Your hopes, aspirations... a bucket list maybe? Going places or achieving something." 

Thinking about it, I was probably asking because I didn't see any for myself. After all, I was never meant to be here, to be alive at this point in time. Most of my life, since I was left alone with my father, was focused solely on surviving. I was reliant on the here and now with no chance to look forward more than 'I want a better life'. Sometimes, even before the bombs, life didn't feel like it was always guaranteed to continue the next day. 

My stomach churned again but it was a less physical feeling than what I was experiencing before. 

"Well." Nick paused and adjusted his weight against the bed. "The old nick wanted to see the city from the top of Bunker Hill. As much as I want to live my own life, I can't seem to shake the feeling that I'd like to go up there, myself." 

Failing to stifle a laugh, I thought about the fact that we had already been in the area. 

"Don't laugh," He scolded, as if he thought I was laughing at the simplicity of his dreams.

"No, no. I was just thinking about how we had the opportunity when we stayed the night there." The beginning of that journey felt as if it was years ago. I remembered my apprehension in trusting the synth detective. The first person to truly reach out to me and I was keen to push him away for so long.

And with my feelings towards him now, all of it felt a little silly and nostalgic. 

His eyes focused directly on mine as he tried to explain himself. "Look, I didn't want to overwhelm you."

"Let's do it together one day." I interrupted before he could print out another excuse. Maybe he really didn't want to overwhelm me but I personally thought it might have been his dedication to one task at a time. He was so focused on the case that he didn't take much time to do anything else unless I was dragging him into it. If I had known he wanted to go to the top of the monument, though, would I have offered at the time? 

"Sounds good." Seeing the smile lingering just beneath his serious stature felt like an achievement. "What about you, doll?" 

"Nuka World." Pulling the bowl back up from my lap, I took another spoonful of the cooling soup after an unexpected yawn. 

"Probably not functional right now. Why Nuka World?" I could practically see the gears turning in his head. 

"Everything in the commonwealth is in disrepair and honestly, it's beautiful." Buildings where the sunlight crept in had sunflowers reaching towards those rays. Highways creating works of art in the directions they bent and fell, as if they had simply begun melting into the earth one commonwealth summer. Forest lined sidewalks with billboards at the heads of their trunks. The way grass even grew in police stations torn open by a landslide. "I wanted to see a place I could only dream of as a kid become a work of art restored by nature." 

"Fair enough. Most people these days wouldn't have had the experiences we've had, save for a few ghouls I suppose." His hat bobbed slightly as he nodded. 

Setting the bowl aside and melting into the blanket and rough mattress, I continued my interrogation with the detective, "You're lucky."

"How so?" 

"You never had to see the bombs fall."

"Maybe I am." 

I still saw and felt the force of it in my dreams. The debris kicking up as the elevator to the vault descended. The alien wind blowing across the top as if it was a bottle to play a tune on. 

A frozen atmosphere in an unfamiliar place where my father and I were ushered to change into vault suits in front of everyone else. Neighbors sighing in relief as if the rest of the world hadn't just died in that same moment. 

Before long, I was waking up again. 

Warmth. 

As I rubbed my blurry eyes, I spotted the detective resting in the bed beside me. He often told me that he didn't need sleep but encouraged me to at least, which is why it was always surprising to find instances in which he chose to. The only difference this time is that he had decided to share the bed with me. 

Confused but not unhappy, I pulled half of the pilled, brown blanket over his figure. At the end of the bed lay his coat and hat, accompanied by a spare bag of RadAway.

[moxfirefly]

Video calls and confessions

Part 2

Rated Explicit (18+)

Got around to that part teo for this one shot.

Hellboy/Cam!Girl

____________________

The world going to shit wasn’t exactly how’d you planned out your Friday afternoon. This morning you had woken up with enthusiasm and a desire to treat yourself.

You’d gone out to the city, had your nails done, grabbed an obscenely priced coffee and on your way had stumbled on a museum.

A little culture never hurt nobody.

For Christ sake it was a free entry day too.

So why then, as you admired priceless art and sculptures had literal hell descended upon the evening?

Creatures. Actual monsters. The screams of the public deafening.

That had happened about half an hour ago. In your haste you had thanked you fight or flight mode to quick into flight. The shaking in your body had cause you to run into one of the exhibit rooms most cluttered with random ‘junk’ whatever this art installation had gone for it was surely not for somebody to duck behind for safety.

You checked your phone. The news was reporting the attack of the art museum. Authorities had been sent as well as the B.P.R.D...

That made you pause and clutch your phone.

If the bureau was on its way then that meant Hellboy was too.

The very notion of possibly seeing him in the flesh made your heart skip a few beats. The two of you had been communicating on and off for a while now since the private shows had started. You knew mixing work and pleasure wasn’t smart but fuck, you had it bad for this guy.

There was a sense of relief washing over you. He’d be here, he’d take care of this mess. Maybe you’d finally see him and not through a computer screen. You knew things had escalated with him although neither of you had really properly addressed it.

“Please whatever is up there, if I survive this I’m fucking telling him I’m in love with him” You whispered to yourself. This possibly couldn’t be your last day on earth.

Something screeching and something akin to a human scream startled you. You hugged your knees closer and tried not to breath loudly. Gunshots and more screams could be heard.

Then something came crashing into the installation where you were hiding. Your scream was imposible to hold in. The creature was screeching so loudly, a sound that left your ears ringing.

Adrenaline made you run out as fast as you humanly could. You heard the great strides it took to catch up to you. This was it wasn’t it? You were gonna die?

Your legs kept pushing you forward even as your muscles burned with pain. Your eyes hurt from crying and your throat felt like it was sandpaper. Something like a claw reaching for your hair made you close your eyes. There was no way you wanted to see how this ended for you.

Two shots.

Loud and so very clear, the sound coming out of left field made you trip and fall. The screening fortunately had stopped.

“Miss?! You’re safe! Hey! You gotta get out of here now!” That voice you knew all to well. You looked up and saw red and a stone hand.

“R-red...” Your voice was small, a sob catching in your throat.

“Y/N!?” He was shocked, eyes wide as he knelt in front of you.

You weren’t sure how your body moved or if he moved you but somehow you’d ended up with your arms around him sobbing into his neck. Hellboy held you tightly, whispering that you were safe, an array of cusses slipped out as he breathed heavily.

The knowledge that you were here, if he’d been a millisecond too late, all crashed down on him as he picked you up and carried you to safety.

You could’ve died, was all that ran through his head.

You’re alive, was all that ran through yours.

_______________

One helicopter ride, a medical exam and a shower later you found yourself at the home base of the B.P.R.D. A nice young woman by the name of Alice had loaned you some clothes and had taken you to Hellboy’s room to wait. A debriefing was happening and all you could do was sit tight.

You resolved to canceling all your cam shows for the week stating you had fallen terribly ill. There was no way you could work, your hands were still shaking as you typed out the post and notified your one on one shows. It felt like hours as you sat on the couch, you had looked around at his room, seeing and array of personal items that made up his personality.

Such a big part of you often dreamt about this but your nerves had you glued to your spot.

The door opened and Hellboy came barreling in like a tornado. You flinched and bit too hard on your already chewed off nail, so much for that manicure.

“I’m so sorry, I wanted to leave that stupid meeting but it’s fucking mandatory because Daimio thinks it’s necessary, asshole that guy I tell ya-“ He took in your state, the still slight tremble in your hands, the few scrapes here and there. You looked small and scared and it absolutely destroyed him.

In his silence he made his way towards the coffee table and sat in front of you. “You know I often fantasized what it be like to see you in the flesh, this wasn’t how it usually went I promise” He smiled and for the first time in this piss filled day, so did you.

“How would it go?” You asked softly.

“Some mood light, a little wine maybe some music” The two of you chuckled. Your chuckles quickly dissolved in you trying to hold back your tears.

You were almost killed tonight, the shock would take some time to subside. “Hey hey kid, it’s ok, I’ve got you. Ain’t nothing gonna happen to you on my watch” Hellboy’s flesh hand rested on your knees.

You leaned forward and rested your forehead on his shoulder. “...When I read you guys were sent out, I really got excited that I’d finally see you” You felt his flesh hand stroke your hair.

“I’m in love with you” You blurted out, his hand going to still. “I said, if I’m making it out of this alive I’m telling him, so I’m telling you...” You looked up at him, e/c meeting his golden ones.

“I-Im not dancing around this no more, I’m tired of pretending that what’s been going on isn’t just some work thing that I do, fuck, I love you I really do and I think you do too” Your mouth want dry again, the scratchy sensation making you swallow.

Hellboy searched out your eyes, something in his head was going a mile a minute. Was he searching for a lie? Something disingenuous?

That all died when he lunged forward and kissed you.

A kiss that truly and utterly left no worry.

You were kissing Hellboy. You were gripping Hellboy by the scruff of his shirt. The way his lips molded against yours, the abnormal warmth to them, the softness to them, the roughness of his scruff.

Pulling back for air felt obligated but he’d insisted by pressing the stumps of his horns against your forehead. “Wow...that’s...so much better than I could’ve imagined” He was star struck in a way and it honest to god made you laugh.

The days events took a back seat for now you wanted to take in the being before you. You scanned everything you normally did while on cam with him. Your hands explored his face, running across scars and hair.

Then you remembered what lay to his right and your heart raced.

You gripped his stone hand, fascinated by the texture of stone, how he held your hand with so much regard to his strength. The patterns, the markings everything has you entranced.

“Extraordinary” Was all you could muster as you rubbed on what would be the inside f his wrist. “I’m sorry, is this weirding you out?” You looked at Hellboy only to find him grinning. “Having a beautiful girl touch me? Yes it’s completely weirding me out” He mocked and you couldn’t help but playfully shove him.

“God I need a beer, can we...?” He was leaning over toward the mini fridge next to the couch and pulling said drinks out. “Read my mind, beautiful” He offered one towards you.

This morning you were going about a normal routine, and now after a near death experience you were in the room of a man you had been falling in love with for months. The twist and turns of life.

Around round 3 you’d excused yourself to use the bathroom. As you washed your hands and saw your normal pristine face a little worn down from the stressful events you frowned.

But there you stood in Hellboy’s bathroom. Surrounded by things all him. The tips of your fingers ran through a brush of his. This was a reality right now.

You stepped out and caught him shrugging off his coat. Busying your thumbnail again at your teeth you watched his now visible arms flex with the movements.

“All good?” He smiled leaning against the dresser.

There was a pregnant pause in which the two of you merely just ogled one another from across the bed.

You moved first.

You walked over the bed and stood on it, you reached out a hand that he took without hesitation and with the extra height from the bed you met in a heated kiss face to face. You wrapped your arms around his neck, you felt his around your hips.

In a wordless haste you yanked at his black T-shirt and busied yourself with taking off yours. He watched mesmerized, as always, the revealing of your skin.

The image before you though, god you wanted to scream.

Hellboy undoing his belt and swiftly yanking the whole thing out of the belt loops without breaking eye contact. Off were your pants, and on was him as he took you down on the bed.

It was a haze, breathless kisses and chants of desire. He one handed the button of your jeans and his own. The brief separation to take the offending items off had the two of you giggling almost. In record time he was back on you and you welcomed it with a ferocity to your kisses. Tongue slipping into his mouth, you swallowed a groan of his that vibrated all the way to your cunt.

He was here, you were here. Physically.

You grinned as he trailed kisses over both your covered breast. “Take-fuck-take it off please, now right now” You felt the air leave your lungs when he simply broke the bra in half and met his reward, two beautifully round breasts he had craved more than any meal. Hellboy pressed his face between them and inhaled before leaving a series of bites and marks. Each time he bit down your raised your hips in search of friction.

The heaviness in the air, the warmth of him lapping and sucking at your breast. The heated tongue wrapping around a nipple. Hellboy devoured you, and if your breast had him like this...

“Baby please, wanna touch you too” Your hands ran down his back, sharp nails leaving a path. Hellboy shuddered as he left a nipple with a loud pop. “Go on, I’m all yours” That very comment sent a gush of heat and you bit your lip to hold a moan in.

You nudged him to lay on his back and you climbed on top of him. Hands running over your body, the feeling of that stone hand gently cupping your rear was enough to make you grind down on him with purpose.

“I promised you something every time we spoke, you remember what that was?” You rubbed yourself on him as you began to trail down his body. Hellboy’s eyes were fogged with lust. “Oh, you remember” You kissed his stomach, nails scratching his sides before hooking into the waistband of his underwear.

He was going to have a stroke.

Hellboy watched you slide his underwear down. Eyes hungry and mouth engulfing his cock. He bucked up without meaning to but you caught most of the onslaught by closing up your throat. A minor choke and you were back on track.

Fuck he was big and thick, you did your best swallowing as much as possible before settling the rest with your hand to jerk. The gut punched groan that left him egging you on. He saw your head bob, the way your lips stretched around his length, the blissed out look as you sucked earnestly. “Shit shit, you look beautiful” Hellboy reached a left hand across your cheek.

Letting him go with a breathy inhale, spit on your chin you jerked him lazily.

He was putting this look away for a rainy day. You had no right looking so utterly debauched and perfect.

“C’mere and kiss me, beautiful” Hellboy whispered softly and you obeyed crawling on him to meet him in a sensual slow lip lock.

Underwear gone, or more so also ripped apart. You were now on top of him about to guide his cock into your drenched hole. The initial burn was actually delicious, that breach between pain and pleasure sending a delightful shock through your body. Once fully seated on him you reveled in stretch and burn. “God this is, fuck I-“ You moaned as you tested with a sway of your hips, he was hitting your spot perfectly. You rested your hands on his chest and he gripped your waist.

Hellboy was gone, the sight of you riding him, lost in your pleasure caused by him nevertheless. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever see. Lost to it all you fell forwards, burying your face in his neck. Your impending release had you stuttering your hips. “I got you baby, I got you” He muttered against your ear. You moaned as he held you, hips pistoning upwards to drive that orgasm out of you.

It crashed something fierce, running all over your body and coming out as a scream against his neck. You felt limp as a noodle but held onto him as he fucked his way through yours. When he came he yanked another orgasm out of you along with his.

The two of you laid there, a mess of limbs clutching at each other. Hearts racing, lungs trying to catch up.

Exhaustion won. You fell a sleep on Hellboy, still inside of you, his mouth against your temple.

There was no turning back now.

[theninjasheeep]

Blood of Love

Pairing: Pieck Finger x Porco Galliard (Modern/Fantasy AU)

This is my entry for @pleasantanathema’s Through Ink and Quill | A Classics Collab. I decided to go for a character study of Porco and Pieck's relationship following my Pokkopiku week piece Sweet Pandemonium paired with some vampire lore from Dracula and Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles.

The idea of vampire!Pokkopiku came from @sinnamon19’s over the top fan art.

You can also read it on AO3.

Summary: Since they are creatures of the night, their senses, as their feelings are heightened to lengths that can’t be explained by words. But since blood is their life sustenance, it is also their means of communication.

Warnings/tags: Pokopiku, Pokkopiku, Gallipieck, Porco Galliard/ Pieck Finger, Porco Galliard x Pieck Finger, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Character Turned Into Vampire, Vampire Bites, Vampire Turning, Blood Drinking, Mentions of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Blood Sharing.

Blood of Love

Waking up in darkness after spending most of his life shunning the sun when he wanted to sleep late was a welcome change for Porco. He could lie and pretend he was one of those humans-turned-vampires who wailed about the sun, its warmth and brightness and how much he missed it, but he didn't.

He didn't miss the impending sense of foreboding dread that clogged his senses or the tacit expectation that life should have some kind of meaning. It was a succession of routines: being born, growing up, reproducing and dying; waking up, going to work or school, coming home, going to sleep and starting again the next day. There was always an unsatisfied craving, a need to be satiated that gave rise to another....

If it weren't for that same life and the unexpected, he would still be stuck in the routine of a life that no longer felt like one. Not so long ago he was eager to die and escape the curse of boredom. However, now that he was undead, he felt more alive than ever.

He didn't miss living as a human.

He did not miss the wars that sent young men like him to fight in battles and advocate for ideals that were in no sense his own. Wars like the ones that took his brother away from him, wars that made mothers cry and lose their lives to grief, like his. He didn't miss being part of a greater good, he fancied being selfish, living only for himself and what he deemed worthy of living for, like Pieck.

Pieck who turned him, Pieck who gave him a reason to live in hope and love.

The stories that are told about vampires are rich and wide-ranging. The majority depict them as cold and devoid of emotion creatures who enjoy drinking blood and playing with their mortal victims without any consideration or pity, with no regard for their suffering.

Dracula is the one that, for Porco, is closest to the truth. Leaving out, naturally, his own inability to turn into mist, a bat or a wolf, and how terribly he has fared with the latter when he has encountered them on his nightly hunts with Pieck high in the mountains, puts him quite a distance from what is supposed to be the blueprint for all vampires.

It has been less than fifteen years since Pieck agreed to turn him and allow him to stay with her forever. Overall, he could even be considered a novice vampire, at least in comparison to the more than two hundred years his female partner has been crisscrossing the planet. However, it has been long enough to learn what is both necessary and appropriate, but what the books say is, amongst other things, preposterous and out of proportion.

Porco's hazel eyes, in the darkness of the room, shine like two torches as they scan the words in each book with unprecedented speed.

The library, nestled in Pieck's hideout in an abandoned town once called Liberio, is about the same size as the house itself. To the unsuspecting eye, the house is a dilapidated old manor from which thieves plundered the treasures long ago, leaving only the massive stone and iron columns. Underneath, however, is a hidden cellar and a sealed passageway that can only be opened with the supernatural strength of a creature like Pieck. Not even he, with his years beside her and the same superhuman strength, is able to open it without visible effort.

Once that initial obstacle is overcome, a long corridor rises up with small windows that let in just enough light to clue the nighttime inhabitants as to what time of day they are in. And behind that corridor is a scaled-down replica of the ruined house that exists above ground: three bedrooms, a kitchen - more out of habit than necessity - a living room and a huge bathroom with a bathtub built into the wall, in addition to the library, make up what could be considered Porco and Pieck's home sweet home.

Although it is ridiculous, Porco is not going to stop enjoying his reading and perusing every nook and cranny of the library while Pieck, with all her quirks, tries to do some vampire yoga in the room across on their home.

Stories about vampires always depict them as a kind of blood-drinking skeleton barely able to articulate words and unfit to walk freely in broad daylight, as the sun is their greatest enemy. The only thing they got right is that their skin burns and the acrid smell of ashes is the only thing that lingers in the air after they perish.

In other stories, they are portrayed as having no emotional capacity and could be easily mistaken for an angsty teenagers searching for their identity and place in the world, with little to no impulse control, driven by their whims, manipulating their way until they achieve their goal. In these tales, the depiction is so over-the-top ridiculous that it is almost comparable to handing a child a panic button.

What is undeniable is the enormous capacity of humans to envision and demonize what they do not know.

Superhuman strength and speed, mind reading and control, morphing into wolves, bats and mist? The books detail how versatile their powers are, how they are able to cloak themselves, thanks to their human appearance, and hide for long periods of time in large communities and lead a relatively normal life, without arousing suspicion.

Although there are also accounts that refer to them as ruthless, cruel and stone-cold beings, who toy with the humans they intend to use as food until they have had enough, and only then, kill them in the most violent and painful way possible.

At this, Porco rolls his eyes. In his experience, both he and Pieck are careful with the humans they feed on. They always look for ways not to cause them pain or fear, and above all, to avoid leaving behind scenes worthy of a gorey b-movie.

Perhaps the only time such a scene involved the two of them was when Pieck agreed to transform him into a vampire.

--

There was a moment where he couldn’t see or speak anything and everything went black for him. He started to listen to a heartbeat, two actually. One was his... the other...

“Pieck?” He asks. He can hear her voice somewhere in the distance, it sounds pained and far, far away.

Meanwhile, Pieck keeps pouring her blood on Porco’s mouth and is silently praying to whatever it is that created them and allowed them to be alive for him to survive this ordeal. She’s panicking now because he’s very pale, dead by now, but he’s not responding to her calling like he is supposed to.

“Porco, wake up!” She cries. “Open your eyes,” She pleads. “Come to me!”

Nothing happens and Pieck panics, falling in a circle of self loathing.

Giving up on him, she lets her head fall on his chest and at this point she’s just a mess of guilt and anguish. Her hair is on her face and his shirt is all bloody with his blood, her blood, her tears. She can’t move, the will to do anything has left her completely so she just lays there beside him on the floor crying.

--

He hasn’t read anything that depicts accurately how they are created. Probably humans think they just popped out of nowhere. However, vampires themselves have a myth: Ymir Fritz was the first human turned into a vampire, many call her the Founder. She was a slave but became Queen of Eldia when King Fritz was unable to defeat her in battle. He surrendered and married her and, in turn, she made him into a vampire and together they gave birth to their species.

Where are they now? No one knows, they are probably marble statues, since the longer a vampire lives, the whiter and rougher their skin becomes.

One book in particular catches his eye: its dark blue cover with gold sparkles featuring a nine-pointed star, the symbol of Ymir Fritz. However, after a brief glance, he discovers that it is a parody.

Porco snorts, he can't believe he's found a book in which vampires don't roast in the sun, but glow like a fairy in plain daylight without any repercussions for their lives. Pieck must have been really bored to get —and keep— something like that and deem it worthy of their huge underground library.

"Have you found anything interesting, Pokko?" Pieck's mellow voice reaches his ears from the bedroom. Her body doesn't make any sounds when she moves, but her soft breathing tells him that she's still trying to do vampire yoga, as if she needs to.

"Geez, Pieck!" Her taunting giggle is the only response he gets, and aware that she can also hear him from where she is, he retorts: "You scared the hell out of me." He grumbles in fake annoyance.

"Don’t worry, you won’t have a heart attack."

“Tch.”

But it is true, no matter how much she may sneak up behind him to scare him, his heart has long since stopped beating, and if he had remained a human, he would most likely have died many years ago. When Pieck came into his life one night, wounded and seeking shelter, he had lost the will to live. All that remained from the happy Porco who lived with his parents and brother was a mere shell that always reminded him of how much he resembled Marcel. And had he lived, despite his desire to die, he would have been almost forty years old by now.

Putting the books aside and getting up from the floor, Porco makes his way to the bathroom where there is a huge full-length mirror, which he and Pieck use in such creative ways when they make love at night.

A derisive smirk tugs at his lips as his reflection glances back at him through the mirror. There are stories that claim vampires don't see themselves in mirrors and that's the reason they avoid them. If only whoever wrote that knew the things the mirror in his bathroom has seen him do to Pieck.

Sometimes, when he is overcome by melancholy and Pieck's love and company fail to reach the deepest wounds in his heart, Porco wishes that particular myth were real. What would his life be if his brother were alive? What would Marcel's life be if the war hadn't extinguished the light in his eyes? The same deep green eyes that right now were scrutinizing his every feature in the mirror.

As the years have gone by, his skin has become paler and his eyes more golden. Pieck likes to say that he is slowly turning into a lion.

Speaking of Pieck...

A slender hand appears over his right shoulder in the mirror, and down his arm until it curls around his waist. Seconds later, the weight of Pieck's head resting on the space between his shoulder blades confirms that he is no longer alone in front of the mirror.

“Hey,” She greets, nuzzling against him tenderly, “what are you thinking?”

He clears his throat, embarrassed.

His left hand reaches up and intertwines his fingers with Pieck's over his chest, and looking behind him, his gaze meets hers.

“My brother.”

Pieck's embrace grows tighter and a line of kisses and scratches from her fangs on his neck make Porco forget, for a moment, how much he misses his family.

“I’m sorry.”

“You know they were long gone before I met you.”

“I know, it’s just...” She releases her hold on him, walking a few steps to stand in front of him in the mirror, her back against it. “I wish I could ease your pain, but I’d be lying if I say that I never think about my father, I miss him.”

Porco raises his hand to caress her cheeks. “You’re stuck with me forever, remember?”

She smiles softly, leaning against him and hugging him back. Porco buries his face on her neck and taking advantage of their embrace, sinks his teeth on her neck, making her moan in delight.

There’s another thing the books about them seem to ignore or purposefully miss: yes, they are creatures of the night and as their senses, their feelings are heightened to lengths that can’t be explained by words. But since blood is their life sustenance, it is also their means of communication. Drinking the blood of another vampire is a gesture so intimate and so rare, that when it’s done by partners, it’s more than just a confession of love and trust, it goes beyond lust and desire: a vampire can show what they feel through images to their partner when they share their blood, and since words are not his forte by any means, he’s always eager to show Pieck comfort and reciprocate everyday the comfort and peace she gave him.

Licking the tiny marks of his fags on her neck, he nuzzles against it, kissing her tenderly. Pieck, being smaller than him, has a harder time reciprocating his gesture, but she stands on her tiptoes and kisses him back, biting his lower lip and drinking his blood as well.

Emboldened by the gesture, he carries her and sits her in the sink, standing between her legs without breaking the kiss. At this, Pieck leverages herself on his shoulders and —finally— sinks her teeth on his neck, eliciting from him a low growl. He bites her back and through their blood they both convey to each other what their words and their hands, roaming over every inch of the other' s body, cannot: they are together until the end of time and the sadness that each one carries is shared by the other.

Together, they were safe.

[oneweekoneband]

In the first cold hours of a new December morning, Taylor Swift once again revealed herself to be the primary antagonist in my hero’s journey. Weary and woebegone as I am, I will not waste strength on any attempt to deny that this latest attack has knocked me off balance, but I believe it is important that I—we, really, the lot of us who have been bloodied pitiably beneath this most brutal show of force—rebound immediately into a defensive posture so that there might be any hope at all for survival. Taylor’s second pandemic album will be released at midnight tonight, so I guess Shakespeare and his little “play” about elder abuse can get fucked after all. The album is called evermore. It was hubris, I can see in retrospect, which led me to tempt my enemy by writing all these words about her on this, the week of her birthday, knowing as I do that Taylor is one of those especially dangerous adults who make a big deal about both birthdays and lucky numbers. Icarus is my name now, covered in melted wax and tumbling to the sea. So as to steel ourselves for these horrors yet to come, I offer now, with not arrogance but the faith of the foolhardy, my best conjecture as to the content of each detestable track. 

willow - Could be about a tree. Could be about a girl. More likely it is both somehow, which is extremely pervy, and not just because that’s part of the plot of the unspeakably cursed The Raven Cycle novels, which I, a full blown adult with, generally speaking, normal brain function, voluntarily read for the first time this summer because some of us, ma’am, used the pandemic for activities that hurt only ourselves, not others. Well, happy holidays, tree fuckers.

champagne problems - Whatever this is, know that I will be considering it a work after Fall Out Boy’s “Champagne for My Real Friends, Real Pain for My Sham Friends” and I’ll be right to do so and many people will say as much admiringly and they’ll smile at me with pride and doff their caps as I go.

gold rush - If this song is anything but a loving, comprehensive summation of the children’s novel DEAR AMERICA Seeds of Hope: The Gold Rush Diary of Susanna Fairchild then I’m going to walk directly out of my home and, deadly virus be damned, keep walking until I’ve entered Taylor Swift’s instead, at which point I will begin to scream out a litany of complaints at the very top of my voice, ceasing only when her security team kills me or we fall in love.

tis the damn season - Worst case scenario this is a sad Christmas song (the best kind of Christmas song) and it devastates me in the most degrading way possible. Best case scenario it’s really bad and dumb and I can live without pain.

tolerate it - Many possibilities here. Could be about white-knuckling it through a period of depression, or a breakup. Most obviously, it could be about COVID-19 lockdowns keeping us trapped in our homes, disconnected from loved ones, going slow-brained and strange, bowls piling up, and suddenly so desperate for human interaction that even memories of having drinks with somebody from Hinge who quoted Friends twice in an hour are tantalizing in comparison to the touch-starved dreamstate of staying indoors... But I kinda feel like this is Taylor replying “COPE” from on high to my tweets about how I would rather be boiled alive than have to face the existence of this record.

no body, no crime (feat. Haim) - What would be very good is if this is a homosexual romp about Taylor Swift and the one hot Haim guitar girl with the really gay energy doing a murder together a la “Somethin’ Bad” by Miranda Lambert with Carrie Underwood, but honestly, it is probably another song about Gone Girl.

happiness - Impossible to speak on this since, thanks to Taylor Swift, happiness is something with which I have no familiarity. 

dorothea - Have seen chirping on the odious bird application about how perhaps this song title suggests that Taylor has written a song about Middlemarch, titling it for Dorothea Brooke, but I reject this because it implies that Taylor has read Middlemarch, which is a premise I cannot accept. Whether this refusal is out of self-preservation, being unwilling and in fact unable to face a world where Taylor Swift read and was moved to creation by the novel which was my most essential friend the summer I got dumped by a guy who I still had to work feet away from in a candle factory for another month, and about which Emily Dickinson (Emily Dickinson whose birthday it happens to be today, which isn’t to say that this means anything about anything. I am simply trying to batten down all hatches literally and spiritually in light of having been had once again by this numerology obsessed demon) once wrote "What do I think of Middlemarch? What do I think of glory.” or because I just at my core do not believe that Taylor has read a single book since Gone Girl I couldn’t possibly say.

coney island (feat. The National) : Some ungodly americana ass bullshit that is going to ruin my life. The thought of holy terror shaped like a horse girl Taylor Swift and trickster nymph in the body of a tax accountant Matt Berninger, two individuals I have allowed, separately, to cause me grievous psychic harm, having even the barest amount of one to one contact, even digitally, has made me want to peel all my skin off and put it back on flipped inside out so that I might, when I look in the mirror, see a version of myself which approximates how I feel.

ivy - Another song for the plant lesbians. That’s fine, and I’m happy for that community, but what I want to know, looking at this growing pile of songs named after women, is where, Taylor, is the song about loudmouth queen Inez, legendary gossip and, for my money, the star of folklore?  

cowboy like me - Putting it as mildly as humanly possible, to slit my throat would be less cruel. I am drawing a straight line from me writing illegible sequels to perfect film An American Tail: Fievel Goes West (itself a sequel) in crayon as a toddler, to Paula Cole’s “Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?” on the radio in my mom’s two door Honda, to me everyday after school in third grade changing into the cowboy costume my godmother bought, to me at fourteen internalizing a sense of righteous indignation that would take years to even begin to outgrow when Crash beat Brokeback Mountain for Best Picture, to the winter I dropped half my classes out of fear and sickness and read paperback westerns on the twenty third floor of the college library for tens of hours at a go, to the profoundly gay episode of Supernatural called “Tombstone” which is, yes, named for the profoundly gay cowboy film Tombstone, to the inspired and revitalizing pause in “Space Cowboy” by Kacey Musgraves where she’s like, “You can have your space........ cowboy”, to Mitski’s Be the Cowboy, to the perfect boygenius cover of certified classic “Cowboy Take Me Away”, to whatever the hell this is going to be.That line is not to make a point at all. It’s just that there is a line and beside it there is me, incapacitated.

long story short - Just like all the other times anyone has ever invoked this phrase in the entire history of human beings expressing themselves with language, it is going to be a huge lie, because this woman never shuts up.

marjorie - After all that Taylor has put me through over the years, she should have at least named one of these wretched things “ellen” after my dead Sagittarian grandmother, whose birthday is tomorrow, December 11th, which is again, the release date of Taylor Swift’s second album in sixth months, but it’s probably for the best that she didn’t because you simpletons would immediately think it was an homage to George Bush’s friend Dory the fish, and therefore gay, regardless of the actual text of the song, and it’d be the “betty” massacre all over again. That being said, this is almost assuredly another horny song about some mid-century white lady. Only days ago Taylor was telling Entertainment Weekly that she’s been watching a lot of movies in quarantine, and while she didn’t name 1958’s Marjorie Morningstar starring Natalie Wood, I wouldn’t put it past her.

closure - God, I hope this one is another Kaylor classic so we can all act like complete raving lunatics online from the confines of our own plague quarters for a few days. It’s been a hard year.

evermore (feat. Bon Iver) - I’ll be catatonic by this point. Who cares?

right where you left me - Yes, in hell.

it’s time to go - Yes, TO HELL.

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Amnesia (Levi x Reader)

A/N: so my boyfriend and i just watched attack on titan again in prep for season 4 in a few months. We both fell in love with levi all over again so i had to write a little story for our little captain. Definitely angst, and probably ooc bc levi is not the romantic type. enjoy.

word count: 5530

Although he appeared stoic, fearless and unattached in almost all ways, Levi Ackerman had a heart burdened with layers of  scalding emotion constantly burning painful holes in his heart. The loss of a childhood to violence, found-family killed in front of his eyes, comrades falling victim to this unfair world over and over again. He was a hardened man drowning in regret. 

Yet, he could never find himself regretting Y/N. She was a woman of talent and skill, grace flowing through her every movement, despite being a skilled soldier. Her voice, when he first heard it, the words she summoned from deep in mind; he found himself hanging on her every word, watching her every step. He often found himself wondering if she would make a mistake and let down some sort of facade, yet she never broke character. 

To some, she could be seen as ignorant, perhaps too trusting or even a bit self-righteous. She was far from perfect, but to him, for the first time in his life, he couldn’t find a flaw in what he saw. It seemed that he would do anything for her, even when no one knew why. 

And as he lay in his cold bed alone at night, rewinds of old memories played time and time again, each and every night. They ruined his life just a little more each time, driving him near mad.

This night was no different.

_________________________________________

  “Y/N-san, oh my god. Wake up, shit,” Reiner begged the woman who he held in his arms. One second his squad leader was flying through the trees, slicing the neck of a 13 meter, the next she was tossed into a tree, rolling through the branches to the hard ground with a thud, blood seeping into the grass from her head. 

Sasha noticed Reiner hunched over a body on the ground, not having seen her leader fall victim to a titan. Her eyes widened at the blood and quickly went to his side. She nearly passed out at the sight of the woman she grew to know as a family. Reiner was frantic, pressing against the back of her head with her cloak, trying to stop the bleeding.

Tears gathered in Sasha’s eyes, despite having seen death before. “She has to be okay.” The young girl whispered, choking back sobs in her throat. She said it mostly to comfort herself, witnessing deaths time and time before just like this one. Hope just seemed so useless nowadays, just mourning.

He held his hand over her nose and felt soft breaths of air. Relief  flooded through him for just a moment as he gathered her close to him. Her crumbling body was limp, and he felt her arm move in an awkward way, definitely broken. He made sure to support that arm, placing it across her stomach.

“She’s dying, we have to get her to the medics, fuck,” Reiner cried, lifting her delicate body carefully in his strong arms. He hugged her head to his chest, and as he did so, it seemed like pints of blood seeped into his clothes and stuck to his skin. He shot off into the air, but Sasha couldn’t move from where she knelt, body almost limp. 

What if she died? What would they do then? Sasha was pretty sure Y/N was the only reason Levi maintained his temper at times. She was the person Hanji ran to tell about her experiments and the commander's only surviving childhood friend in the corps. Sure, Sasha would be hurt losing a leader she grew to trust, but what about the veteran soldiers. It had been years and years since they met, and they got attached. That’s what happens when everyone else dies and it seems like you just have one another to latch onto.

Dread filled her heart as they returned to the carts and gave Y/N over to one of the medics, who pressed something to her head and popped in one of her dislocated limbs. He was so casual, she thought. Anyone would turn that way working with dozens of injured soldiers every mission. The casualty of it all made it all the more depressing, even disturbing. 

“Will-will she be okay?”

“Hell if I know,” the boy confessed. “But we all better hope so.” Even though he failed to explain, both the cadets knew why.

Soldiers began pouring out of the forest on their gear or horses. Some carried the dead, while some carried pride for what they had done. No one paid mind to that particular medic cart. The medic opened her eyes and observed her condition, but that only made Sasha’s heart sink further. She was unresponsive to touch, just a limp body, nearly dead.

Heads turned at the distinct sound of blades falling to the ground. Levi landed beside the cart after seeing the mop of h/c hair lying in the cart. His eyes flashed to Reiner and Sasha for a moment, seeing the blood soaked clothes and tear-stained cheeks. 

For the first time in years, Levi felt his blood run cold in his veins and his heart to stop beating in his chest. Pain stabbed him in the stomach, feelings of throwing up his breakfast arose. He opened his mouth to say something, but his words got caught in his throat. He gasped for air before muttering hopelessly, maybe to himself or the cadets or even the woman herself lying half dead in the carriage.

“Y-Y/N?”

“Captain-”

His voice was weak, full of pain and fear. “Shut up.” No malintent, just a desperate need for silence among the horses trotting along and soldiers rejoicing the fact they made it out alive. He walked over to the cart and climbed in, his normally firm and strong hands shakily hovering over the woman’s cheeks, gently wiping the blood  from her lips and eyes.

For the first time, the cadets witnessed complete and utter fear and helplessness overtake their captain, the emotions of a broken man leaking past his wall of bravery. 

In that moment, Sasha realized that Y/N wasn’t hers to grieve. 

“Y/N, please…” he whimpered, running his fingers down her wet, bloody hair. ‘“M-my princess, please. I need you, please.” 

“Captain, she’s not dead. We just need to get her back to the wall and-”

“Will she live?”

“I’d stake my life on it, Captain Levi. Don’t you worry,” the medic, one who had only really heard of Levi by mouth, lied through his teeth. He was just a trainee. He had no idea what would happen to this woman, but one thing he did know was that in times of need people need comfort, and sometimes white lies can ease the pain.

_________________________________________

Levi and Erwin stood outside the doctor’s office as Y/N sat inside being tended to by a nurse. The doctor shut the door quietly, and joined the two men in the hall. His eyes were solemn and regretful, not wanting to look up at the two incredibly powerful military forces before him. 

“Why was she acting like that? I thought you said she would be healed by now,” Levi grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“The blow to her head severely damaged her limbic system. I’m truly sorry to tell you, but she’s suffering from retrograde amnesia.”

Levi bit back an indecent curse, as Erwin spoke. “So, she can’t remember anything?”

“She still can function normally, but her memories are gone.”

“Everything?” Levi asked shortly, trying to stay calm. He hadn’t expected this after they’d heard of her waking from her coma. He thought that one month without her was long enough, but now it seemed the situation was much, much worse than any of them anticipated. 

“Unfortunately. She does remember a vague sense of the titans and the walls though.”

“What about people? Friends? Family?” Levi anxiously questioned, almost pleading with the doctor to say that she remembered him. Erwin placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and sighed.  The doctor shook his head, and it only buried Levi deeper in his misery. How could she forget everything? 

How was it right that she could forget the years they spent together but he had to live with the memories, all the emotions unreciprocated? It was cruel for fate to do this to him.

Erwin asked finally, “Is there any chance of her regaining her memories?”

“Perhaps. Amnesia, anything involving the brain really, is a tricky matter. My guess is not likely, but there is always a chance.” He sighed and pushed up his glasses. “Would either of you like to sit and talk with her? Being around familiar things can boost memory in patients.”

They walked into the room calmly, and the woman peered up at them, a small smile gracing her lips. Levi felt his heart jump to his throat, and he had to swallow down his feelings. She was rightfully so the most beautiful human being to ever walk within the walls. Her smile, seeing it for the first time in so long, it made him so happy. If only this was a happy scene, though.

"Ah! Finally some visitors. All I've seen is nurses and doctors for the past what? Five hours?"

“”Hello, miss Y/N. I am Erwin Smith, the commander of the Survey Corps as well as your long time friend.”

“Really? How did I manage to be friends with someone so distinguished?” she laughed, but in all seriousness, she didn’t know. “They told me I was a great soldier, is that true? If anyone would know, it’d be you.”

“Great soldier, but might I say, greater friend.”

Her cheeks turned just the slightest bit of pink at the compliment. She smiled at her blankets. “Thanks. Hopefully I get to meet more of my old friends soon. Seems to me like I was quite popular.” Erwin nodded, moving to sit down in the chair beside her bed, revealing Levi behind him. The man was quiet, his eyes dancing around the room without meeting her gaze. “I’m guessing you’re a friend too-”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Levi-” Erwin started, but Y/n cut him off.

“They told me about you, Levi! Humanity’s strongest soldier, even better than me,” she laughed, sending him a playful wink. He winced at the sight of her smiling at him, her cheeks just a bit red from happiness. When she winked, he thought he might drop dead right there. Her beautiful eyes, the sparkle that they always held; he wanted them to be his again. “The nurse said you would visit me every morning and night while I was in the coma.”

“Yeah. Do...do you remember anything else about me?”

“Not right now, but the doc says I can get them back at any time.” Always so positive. If only he could think like that too.

The shorter man took a seat at the edge of her bed, staring down at the ring around his finger, twisting it back and forth. The gold was dull by now, he hadn’t polished it in a few months. Her eyes caught sight of the ring and she held back her questions about it.

“So, your name is Levi…”

“Ackerman.”

“Hmm, I see. And we were good friends?”

“Partners.”

She raised a brow, turning her head to Erwin, who nodded to assure she was assuming the right thing. He was certainly a handsome man, but she couldn’t see how someone so bubbly as her could be with someone so serious and quiet. He didn’t even want to make eye contact with her.

Y/N leaned over the edge of the bed to grab a small drawstring bag. “The doctor put all my belongings in this bag. Let me just..” Her swift fingers rummaged around for a few seconds before they enclosed a small, smooth piece of metal. “I’m guessing this is from you, huh?” she asked, pulling the sparkly ring from the bag. 

They had her look through her bag earlier to see if it would spark any memories, to no avail. Yet, she remained curious about the ring. 

“It’s very beautiful, thank you for giving it to me. Do you want it back while I’m-”

“No. Please,” he paused, taking a deep breath. He found himself pleading a lot more than usual these days. It was just sad. “Can you just wear it?”

She slipped the ring on her finger without hesitation. “Of course. I’m sure I loved you very much before the accident, Levi.”

Loved. That’s right. She didn’t love him anymore. She didn’t even know him. 

“Were we married?”

“Practically, but there’s no time for a wedding with our work schedules.”

“I see. Well, it’s nice to meet you again. Hopefully we can become close again soon.”

He frowned, nodding towards the ground. How could fate be this cruel to him? He stood up from the bed and left the room before anyone could stop him. This whole thing, seeing her, it was too much for him. He didn’t want to see her the way she was, and it broke his heart.

That day marked the single worst moment for Levi, above all else. Losing the love of his life.

___________________________________________

Five months later, and a lot of shit happened. But of course, Y/N still couldn't remember anything. He couldn’t do a thing but sit around bitterly, knowing that his lover was lost to him. Others tried to tell him to build their relationship again, but what was the point in that? Their love was built on circumstance: on the wall breaking, on the missions they protected each other, on the nights they spent talking about everything and nothing by the stables.They could never get that back, the same love she once had for him was gone.

He spoke to her, but he didn’t go out of his way to find her, to speak to her. He would rather keep to himself, and if that made him come across as harsh and cruel, then so be it.

He still felt the urge to protect her, the need to maintain what they once had, how he felt for her. He still protected her as if his life depended on it, and he would walk to the ends of the Earth before he saw her die. Yet, he couldn’t be sociable and comfortable like before.

That morning he woke up as usual, got dressed, went about his day, headed to the dining hall for dinner, and ate in silence if not for curses under his breath as he watched the love of his life talk it up with Erwin and Hanji, laughing and smiling as if he wasn’t right there. He knew Hanji could sense his eyes trailing to them with every sip of his tea, and she sent him a sympathetic look. 

The woman felt for her friend and comrade. For 6 years, she witnessed the pair fall in love despite trauma and differences they had. She was there countless times to see Levi lay his life on the line for her, and Y/N do the same for him. There was a change in Levi from the moment those two became friends to the very last day they had together. It made her sad. Love didn’t feel real without these two being there for each other.

Erwin wasn’t as adept, but he saw the pain in humanity’s greatest soldier. He loved Y/N, having known her since they attended training together. He was amazed she lived this long as well, having lost so many soldiers and friends along the way. She was different now. Lost in her own mind half the time, and unreliable on missions. 

But they had to keep waiting. Doctors, the best the walls had to offer, told them the chance of her memories coming back to her were close to zero, but not quite. If there was even a chance their friend would remember them some day, it wasn’t worth abandoning hope.

“Y/N, I totally forgot to tell you. You and Levi need to go check the horses. I think I left the stable door open, I’m not sure, haha,” Hanji rushed to say, wiggling her brows at Levi. She pushed Y/N out of her seat and stacked her plates for her to take to the dishwashers. “Sorry, but it’s just got to be checked.”

“Why does Levi have to-”

“Because you shouldn’t go out at night alone, obviously,” she explained, but stupidly. A soldier couldn’t go out on their own base alone. Y/N nodded obediently, but she really didn’t want to go, especially with him. She twisted the ring on her finger absentmindedly as her friend rushed her to exit the dining hall. Levi followed, but not without sending a twisted glare at the squad leader.

Y/N kept ahead of him, walking briskly as to get the job done quickly. Levi already knew she wasn’t happy going with him and that she generally disliked him. 

It wasn’t until they got to the stables and saw that the gates were in fact closed, locked up, and all the horses were as they should be. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me? She sent us out here for what? Her own amusement?” Y/N said, her voice raising just a bit. She was angry, just enough to put a lump in Levi’s stomach. Before the accident, she never got angry with him, or anyone else. She was just happy to contribute to the cause and help anyone she could, even if the task was as trivial as checking the stables. Y/N would have been happy to take a walk outside at night with Levi. 

In fact, they stood in the same spot they would hang out at night under the stars time and time again. He stared at her now, and wished to god that he could go back in time to when she would cuddle and kiss him under the moon and the stars here. He wanted her to tell him silly stories about her day, and then lean over and pepper kisses to his neck and his cheeks and his nose and call him her baby.

But instead, she hated him for everything he was worth.

“Y/N, Hanji didn’t-”

“Oh, would you just shut up?” she rolled her eyes over to him, her fists clenched at her sides. “You’re literally my only problem right now, You, my supposed lover. Everyone tells me stories about how you loved me, how we fell in love even, yet you treat me like absolute horse shit.”

“Would you just-”

“Would I just what? Continue to pretend you’re not an absolute asshole? You ignore me, you avoid me, you tell people that you miss me, yet you won’t even bother to make an effort? How can someone who loved me so much act this way?” the woman yelled furiously, glaring at him. The sparkle in her eyes vanished the longer she spoke, the longer she was with him.

He grit his teeth for a second trying to keep himself under control, but he couldn’t stand it anymore. “You are the one that’s ruined my life, don’t even try to act like your life is so hard.”

“How dare-”

“In case you didn’t know, you are the only thing I have left. I’ve lost my family, seen hundreds of people die around me. I found you, my sweet and kind princess, the woman I would kill and be killed over. I opened myself up to you, to the idea of loving you, despite what little time we all have left, despite the risks that come with caring about someone.”

“I’m still the same person-”

“No, you’re not. You just fell in love with me, I didn't need to try this hard. It was natural that we come together after everything we had been through. When I thought about the day I would lose you, I expected you to die and for us to bury your body and for it all to be over. I could move on knowing I did everything I could to protect you and love you,” he gasped for air, so angry he forgot to breathe. His eyes burned into hers which were slowly widening, lips just agape. He took a deep breath and continued, “Do you know how much it hurts to see you walking around, talking to people, knowing that you are right there for me to touch and love, yet you will never love me again, not the way it was? Do you really, Y/N?”

“Levi...I’m sorry.”

He rubbed his face with his hand, covering his eyes in shame. He didn’t mean to be so emotional, to make a pathetic attempt at forcing the blame on her. “Sorry for what? You didn’t do anything for it to be this way. You’re just living like anyone else, I’m the one wallowing in my own misery. I’m the one that should be sorry.”

“I know. I-I want more than anything to remember everything. I want to remember you and how much you loved me like everyone says, like you say. I just...I don’t know how. Levi, I’m so sorry.”

He let his arms fall to his sides limply, not having anything else left to say really. “Even though you’re right in front of me, I miss you,” he whispered. “I just miss you.”

Y/N stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him into a gentle hug. He tensed for a moment before falling into the hug, wrapping his arms around her shoulder and neck, pulling her form as close to him as possible. He missed her touch, her warm hugs by the stables. He would never say he missed the little intimacies, that was too much for him. Yet, these moments fueled him to wait for her, as long as she needed.

“Maybe it will never be the same. I’m sorry for that, Levi. I want to be friends with you. I long to know what the old me saw in you for so long. I wish I remembered what happened to spark something between us. I know it’s all still there somewhere, whether we have that history or not.” Silence from him, just faint breaths against her shoulder. “But it will be okay.”

It’ll be okay.

________________________________________________

Six months after she lost her memory, six months of feeling like a burden to the corps, Y/N stood outside the castle with a few of the cadets and Hanji, watching as she tried more experiments on Eren. She leaned back against a tree and shut her eyes, taking in a breath of the fresh air. So much had happened over the past months that she nearly forgot she lost her memories all those months ago. Wall Rose was sealed, the titan shifters had left for the time being. It seemed like everything was at peace, or that time was just standing still.

In the middle of the peace, the sunlight shining down on her and her friends through leaves in the trees, through the warmth of the summer sun. her mind seemed to piece itself together, if only parts. Her world shifted together once again.

Flashbacks played over in her mind, one after the other, hundreds of memories flooding in so quickly. She stumbled forward a few steps, pressing a hand to her lips to hold back her gasp. Hanji hadn’t noticed as she was too focused on Eren, but Jean gave her a particularly strange look after noticing her.

“Y/N-san, you good?” the boy called to her.

Thankfully, no one noticed except him, and she just waved him off. “It’s nothing. Just have to go to the bathroom.” As she walked away, more and more memories flooded into her head, not everything. She felt millions of tiny pieces of her story were missing here and there, but she could remember enough.

Memories of her mother and her father in her childhood house. Memories of school, cadet training. Erwin, Eren, Hanji, her squad, the titans, the expeditions, her favorite foods and stories and books. 

But most of all, she remembered Levi.

_______________________________

The night was soldiering on, yet Y/N could not sleep. Her stomach churned every few moments and she felt a headache coming up at the same time. Something had been bothering her for the past week, actually, make that the past few months. She was a seasoned soldier, yet she was letting emotions cloud her mind. Her exercises were coming up short and clumsy, and she had a hard time focusing on paperwork or the commander’s orders. 

The only thing on her mind was a man, particularly short with a sharp tongue and the abilities of a godly warrior. It had been two years since she met him, two long years of fighting and struggling to live amongst the chaos ensuing. He was her only source of hope and light in this cruel world.

Slowly, she rolled out of her bed and wrapped herself in her blanket, leaving the room and shutting the door silently. She didn’t want to wake anyone else for them to ask what she was up to long after midnight. She stepped down the hall carefully, keeping her head hung just a bit. In hindsight, she shouldn’t have been scared at all. She knew just as well as he did what they were meant to be. It was obvious to everyone. 

Yet there were always variables. Death was inevitable, no one lived to die of old age anymore. They were busy beyond belief, always rushing around to get things done, fight titans, protect the people of the walls. It was high stress, which didn’t leave much thought for anything else. She had the mind to think about everything but her priorities, unfortunately.

She walked across the yard in the cold night to the men’s barracks, definitely not where she was supposed to be. She could probably be in a bit of trouble with Erwin if someone snitched on her, but her consequences wouldn’t be dire.

And as she approached the room, her body tensed. It was so quiet in the night that she could almost hear the sound of her heart beating ferociously in her chest. Softly, with the tips of her fingers, she knocked on his door. When he didn’t answer, she could only laugh to herself, of course he couldn’t hear her weak knocks. 

She was just so scared. Maybe if he didn’t answer the door, then she could forget all about this and never confess what she was thinking. 

Gathering some of that Survey Corps courage, she knocked a little harder on the door. Rustling sound from in the room, and the woman cringed, shutting her eyes and taking a few quick breaths. It would be fine, she assured herself. It’s not that big of a deal.

When the door opened and Levi looked into her eyes, rightfully confused, she lost all her thoughts. The hours she had spent rehearsing what she wanted to say were thrown out the window.

“Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?” he whispered, his eyes sliding to check down the hall left and right for anyone watching. 

Her mouth opened, lips opening and closing like fish. He took her wrist and yanked her into his room, shutting the door behind them. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked, still holding her wrist in his iron tight grip. Y/N shook her head and sighed, turning to look at the wall instead of him. “Don’t tell me you had a nightmare or something-”

“Levi, I love you. I-I don’t know how else to tell you, and Hanji said outright was the best way and...well, I don’t know.”

“Love?”

“Yeah.”

“Stay with me tonight?”

Her face turned to stare at him incredulously, her cheeks turning an all-telling pink. “What?”

“I anticipated this, to be honest. You’re very emotional.” He crossed his arms, trying his best not to lose his cool composure like she had. He’d gone to the same evil scientist for love advice about Y/N a month before. His heart felt like it would explode, and his cheeks were threatening to turn red and his palms to sweat. But he would remain cool. Y/N was always the one to be open with her more embarrassing emotions. Coolly, he replied, “Hanji told me you would do this, and then she told me to tell you to stay the night with me.”

“Hanji...that double-crossing bastard.”

He rubbed a hand over his eyes, feelings of drowsiness still running through his head after just waking up. “Listen, I just want to hold you and fall asleep so stay with me.”

It only took a second to think it over before Y/N nodded. He walked over to his bed, scooting over to the side against the wall so she would have room. They had tiny beds, almost cots, but thankfully being a captain warranted a slightly bigger one. She sunk down into his bed and rolled over to face him. His sheets and pillows smelt so clean and new, just like his clothes did every day. It was comforting, and she felt the smell lulling her to sleep.

“So, the feelings are mutual?” she finally asked, although her answer was already quite clear.

Levi just sighed, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close to his chest. “Always so stupid.”

__________________________________________

“Levi?” Y/N asked as she entered the man’s office without even knocking. She was practically bouncing with each step, energy bound up inside.

He didn’t bother peeking up from his desk, just checking more things off his paperwork. “Yes, Y/N?”

She didn’t really know what to say, truthfully. She could only stand there for moment, and think herself so stupid for not remembering him. Looking back on how she acted while she was recovering, how she acted like a stranger to him for so long, and now that seemed ridiculous. They had history. Thousands of moments that she forgot. 

Without thinking much else, she bluntly said the only thing on her mind, “Stay the night with me.”

He lifted his eyes from his paperwork, narrowing his brows. “Excuse me?” 

“You said that the first time I told you I loved you. You-You were too nervous to actually tell me you loved me so you said that instead,” Y/N rushed to say. “I remembered.”

As Levi looked up at the woman he loved, the one he never stopped loving this whole time, he noticed the sparkle in her eyes had returned. Her cheeks were dusted pink and she looked out of breath from excitement. He didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t expected this, and honestly he never thought he would hear her recall those times again.

“I remember you. Not everything yet, but I remember being in love with you. I remember how you loved me.”

He stood from his desk to walk over to the woman who was overflowing with so many words and thoughts and emotions that he thought she might burst. He rested his hands on her cheeks, bringing her eyes up to meet his. He could see, for the first time in forever, the way her eyes shone with love and affection for only him. She brought her hands up to rest on his, heat rising up to turn her ears red. 

Even though they were practically married before, she felt anxious and embarrassed being so close to him and touching him again. It was like she had just fallen in love again, a giddy young woman with so much ahead of her. Levi touching her, it made her feel something again. His warmth radiating onto her chilled skin; it was all she needed to go crazy.

God, did she miss having these feelings. The feeling of being in love is one of the most pleasant mankind has ever felt.

“Levi, I’m back.”

“God, I missed you. I really fucking missed you.”

And as she wrapped her arms around him once again, feeling his heart beating against her ear, she remembered what it felt like to be Y/N. A woman who was loved and important, someone with a history of good deeds and hard work. It was worth waiting six months, just to feel this bliss once again.

They would be together as long as they had left, and every minute would be cherished. War would come. Deaths would surface. But at least they had the present.

[ramblinganthropologist]

MER Week Day 2 - Long time no see

Summary: It’s been a while since Alistair Shepard and Garrus Vakarian have seen each other. They’ve been busy on their separate planets, helping in whatever ways they can to get things back to as normal as they’re going to get. However, with some free time, they’re finally getting to meet back up. Problem is... somebody forgot to mention the testosterone. Whoops. Well, at least Shepard’s got a free offer of carapace ripping from his sister if things go south.

(Set after ME3, enjoy your t4t shakarian lol)

---

Babe: See you at 3 then.

The message still glowed on his screen, burned into his retinas from the night before. It was the last message in a long conversation that had lasted well into hours he should have been sleeping, but it had been worth it. After all, it was important to hash out details when your fiancé was coming to visit.

It was even more important to do so in his circumstances.

“Fuck…”

The words leaked out from between Alistair’s teeth as he glanced around – the time said it was sometime after 2:40. Like always, campus was busy, full of his fellow students going from one class to another. Most of them look tired – and he understood that fully. Between med school and fighting the reapers… some days it could be a toss-up, depending on what he was doing.

Most days, med school won. Maybe that was a good thing? Or maybe he was just a sadist.

Regardless, campus was busy. It was easy to blend into the crowd like this as he sought a seat on a bench under a tree. All he could do was look at the screen of his omni-tool, frowning as he read through the messages.

He shouldn’t have been nervous… but he was.

Maybe that was why he clicked onto a new message window, just as busy as the one with the one he had been glancing at. Even better, the other person was online. Something like hope sprung into his chest as he started typing, fingers flying with the speed of an ex-Alliance officer.

Some things were fading with time – this probably never would.

Al: Where are my anxiety meds when I need them?

Bo: Relax, he’s going to love it. And if he doesn’t, there won’t be anything left to bury afterwards.

Bo: Or whatever turians do when they die.

“Nothing like threatening my fiancé to get me to calm down.” He chuckled despite himself, shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. However, a beeping drew his attention. Bo was attempting to video call him, which he was more than happy to accept.

Rannoch was as busy as ever on the other side of the line. He could see quarians and geth in the background, going about their business as his adopted sister focused her camera. Even after tweaking it, she was still a little skewed and not completely in the frame. However, she was allowed to be – her analogue sense of direction had saved his ass. She could be as out of focus as she wanted.

“I mean it, Al.”

He chuckled again. “I know, Bo. I guess I’m just nervous. I mean… we haven’t seen each other before…”

With his free hand, he gestured towards his body. Some days, especially in the early morning when he was half asleep, he was still unable to believe what was actually happened. It seemed more like a dream… at least until his voice cracked. It was doing that far less as his range settled, but still. At his age, it was kind of embarrassing.

Oh well, puberty was rough, especially when it was triggered for a second time in his 30’s.

“Told you that you should’ve sent him more dick pics.” Bo’s tone was flat as a pancake as she adjusted her camera – still out of focus. Now he was getting a view of Rannoch’s currently cloudless sky. Last time he had seen it, it had been full of Reapers. Honestly, he preferred it without them. Much friendlier. “Just relax. You know he thinks you’re hot as hell. All you have to do is use your commander Shepard voice and he’ll be eating out of your hand.”

Alistair felt his face color a little as he looked to the side. “I’m not going to use that in public…”

“You know what I mean. An Adam’s apple isn’t going to turn him off, so no sense worrying about it.” She paused, and he swore her eyes glowed. Maybe that was the camera angle? “And if it does…”

He could already see the threat – beating him with his own carapace was one of her favorites. He had never actually seen someone do it, but it was a classic at that point.

“Yeah, I know - death and calamity upon his head like you’ve only reigned down on the last guy who tried to take your crown.”

“He’s still recovering.” There was pride in her voice at that, and she should have it. After all, it wasn’t every day a human went undefeated in Omega’s underground Krogan wrestling tournaments. Surviving the reapers only brought better challengers, and it seemed to keep her well supplied with cannon fodder. “But anyway, just go for it.”

There was a pause, and her camera focused momentarily. “Also, since when did you start growing a beard?”

Oh, hail the mighty power of testosterone…

“Like two months ago, shaving sucks.” A beeping drew his attention – his heart raced at the sight of a new message. “Gotta go… I think that’s him.”

“Remember, just call me if you need his carapace ripped off.”

After the offer of violent assault, the call disconnected and left Alistair alone with his thoughts as he switched back over to his messages. Just like he thought, the message was from a certain someone he was waiting for. His heart jumped into his throat as he glanced around – nope, not there yet.

Babe: Almost there, got a little lost. I’ll never understand human city planning.

He always said that. Still, it made the ex-marine chuckle as he stood, waiting. Soon enough, they would be together again. It had been far too long, and the distance achingly wide. But now that the relays were working again, it was possible.

Note to self: maybe don’t take out the relays next time he saved the universe. It made travel a nightmare to say the least.

At least it wasn’t a long wait. Out of the corner of his eye, Alistair spotted movement that didn’t quite track for tired med student. It was too focused for that, and the pace was all wrong anyway. Plus, the whole carapace and being like seven feet tall thing helped, but it didn’t sound nearly as cool as the former.

“Alright, just… relax. Like Bo said…”

Of course, that didn’t help the butterflies in his stomach as he stood, adjusting his shirt. All the logic in the world couldn’t have saved him then as he watched the turian approach, clearly scanning the crowd for familiar markers. His heart stopped when their eyes met in the crowd, blue into blue.

Garrus was looking good for someone who had nearly died killing Reapers.

“Al?”

There was no mistaking the surprise in the turian’s voice as he made his way over to the tree. When he finally got there, his mandibles flapped like flags in the wind. The gears were turning in his brain, no doubt running countless calibrations. In a weird way, it was kind of cute.

At the same time, it was fucking nerve wracking. Talk about a conflict of interest.

Still, it was Garrus, and he was finally there. That was enough to put a smile on Alistair’s face as he reached out to take the turian’s taloned hand. It was just as rough and warm as he remembered, and his fingers still stretched as they laced together. It might have been a little sore, but muscle memory wasn’t letting him down.

“Hey, babe. Good to see you got here in one piece.”

Thank the universe his voice didn’t crack with that one. Maybe this was the thanks he got for saving it.

At least Garrus had the good grace to not look as though his jaws had stopped working. Alistair did get to watch his eyes travel downward in the classic once-over, though. All the while, his stomach bubbled. It felt as though a heavy weight was poised to drop on his head, and all he could do was stand there and wait.

Eventually, the turian squeezed back carefully, the blunt side of his talons sliding down his fingers. “So, I guess this is why you’ve been so shy about video calling me lately?”

“My voice was cracking really badly up until about a month ago, you were saved a lot of translator feedback.” He smiled, sheepish. “But… yeah. I didn’t really know how things were going to turn out and…”

His voice trailed off as he felt heat leak into his cheeks. “Here’s hoping you still think I’m hot?”

Yep, his voice definitely cracked at the end there. Maybe the universe had it in for him after all. At least Garrus didn’t wince too hard at the sudden shift – good old turian military training there. Still, he hadn’t said anything yet. That… wasn’t promising.

Maybe he should have sent those dick pics?

“You… what’s that called again?” Garrus cocked his head to the side in a gesture that always made him look cute and kind of bird-like. “On your face. Joker was always talking about his.”

Right, turian…

“Beard. And mine’s not quite as good as his yet I’m afraid but give me a few months and I’ll see what I can do.” He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, fingers ghosting over his amp. It hadn’t seen action in almost a year now, and it was still odd to feel it cool to the touch.

Much to his relief, Garrus nodded. “It looks good now. I mean, you look good in general and all… I thought turian reactions to hormones were impressive, but humans are something else.”

“Gotta love those secondary sexual characteristics, babe.” Relief flooded through Alistair’s system as he sighed in relief. “And I think you just saved yourself getting your carapace ripped off by my sister.”

Hooray – that would have been a nightmare to fix.

Now it was the turian chuckling as he reached down to press his faceplates to his forehead in an alien version of a kiss. It was a gesture that always got his heart racing, even if it was just a quick peck. He had missed that in their time apart – texting just couldn’t beat actual contact.

“That’s probably for the best. I’ve not had a lot of practice lately, might be getting a little rusty.”

Alistair chuckled as they started to walk through the crowd. “You, rusty? I find that hard to believe.”

“Oh, no, it’s true. Barely had any time to run calibrations even, I’m starting to worry I’ll forget.”

That time, they shared a laugh between them. Maybe this was what Alistair had missed the most in the time spent on different planets – there was just something about the interplay between human and turian laughter that made his insides feel warm. Or maybe that was just his reaction to Garrus in general. Right then, anything was possible.

Still, he felt his face color a little as he looked to the side. “I’m sorry I didn’t send any in-progress shots. Bo could confirm any embarrassing details if you asked her.”

“Trust me, I get it. Remind me when we get back to your place to tell you about how I didn’t tell my sister I was going on hormones until after she came back from basic.” Another squeeze. “Of course, if you wanted to test that new vocal range out in some more strenuous conditions first…”

Oh, there was nothing friendly about that gaze. And it was something Alistair could appreciate as he squeezed back. Home was well prepped for what they both had in mind – they just had to get there first. Lucky for him, he lived within walking distance of campus.

The chuckle that escaped his lips was definitely not of the innocent afternoon type as he leaned in so only the turian could hear him. “I think that can be arranged, Vakarian. Better pick up the pace, though.”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

With that, it was off they went at a faster rate, not quite a run but definitely quick. With the sun shining and thoughts about what was waiting for him when he got home, Alistair was once again glad the whole universe saving thing had worked out for the better.

Now… what exactly was he going to do with the turian when he got home? The options were endless…

[unmaskedagain]

Marinette: A legacy

           I really tried to make this angst but the story had a mind of it’s own by the end. It’s about 6,000 words so... Buckle in.

 Broken; that was what Marinette was. Broken was what the gods had deemed her. She was born wrong. She shouldn’t exist. She shouldn’t be alive. She shouldn’t be anything. But she did exist and she was very much alive… technically.

           How much could anyone like her ever really be considered alive? She had been born to death. Somehow death had created a life.

 It had done it once before with another girl; but that girl had been born right. From the moment she had come crying into the world, it was clear the girl had favored her grandmother’s heritage, and, in time, her mother’s as well. The girl was named Hope.

           Marinette favored her father’s; skin a little too pale, heart beat a little too slow, beauty a little too otherworldly. However, when it was clear that her small body craved blood to survive, only then did they fear the worst.

           By they, she meant her birthmother. A werewolf who had want power and powerful bloodline; a Hope of her own. Suffice to say, she didn’t get what she wanted. Instead of Mother Nature and moon in one being; they got blood and darkness, the moon would come later.

           They feared she’d become her father. A monster in human flesh. A boogieman that all other boogiemen feared. They couldn’t let that happen. They refused to let that happen. So they sent Marinette away. Sent her away before her father could find out; before his family could find out. She was given to a couple with magical knowledge; a man with a wolf’s heritage and a woman who had grown up with vampires; Tom and Sabine.

           Her birthmother died not long after.

           Marinette’s father had been locked away at the time of her birth. She never met him. Most days, she just wondered if he knew she existed. Last she heard him and his brother Elijah had nearly died defeating some great evil. They were alive and well, still ruling New Orleans. Only reason she knew about him was that she had saved a witch’s life, and in return, and a bit of blood, Marinette knew who her birth parents were; the lines she came from. The sister she had.

           Unfortunately the price was stiff. Marinette ten at the time when she came across a vicious looking man attacking a seemingly helpless woman. The man had been a werewolf. To save a life, Marinette accidently ended his in the process; awakening the curse of her mother’s bloodline.

           No longer just a child of death and blood but now of the moon as well.

           For a long time, Marinette had done everything she could to be normal despite her adopted parents assuring her that Normal was overrated. Never seeking out her own kind(s) out of fear. Fear of rejection as she was neither and yet both; alive and dead; werewolf and vampire. Fear that her father’s countless enemies would find her.

But while she could walk in the sunlight, she could also kill a man in the blink of an eye. While she did her absolute best not to hurt anyone, animals still avoided her. They sensed the predator inside her, lurking just beneath the surface. While Marinette loved designing and all things fashion and normal teen girl things, she still drank blood, howled at the moon, and had murdered someone.

           Meeting Tikki when she was twelve had been a blessing and a curse. Tikki help Marinette realize that she could be something; that she didn’t have to be a force of destruction, that she could create, protect. The curse; Tikki told her that her she’d stop aging soon; death would take hold of her. She gave Marinette a four or five year timeframe. At max five years before her ability age would slow decreasing until it stopped altogether. And who knows when exactly that would be.

           Maybe feared that she’d wake up at 30 and realized she still looked like nineteen-year-old.

           And what would that mean for her biologically? Could she still have kids? A life? Would she have to spend the rest of eternity alone?

           Now almost fourteen Marinette, outcasted by her friends over a liar, made guardian now that Fu had sadly passed away, she spent most of her nights with the Kwami. She had just been about to put the box away when… it happened.

           Suddenly, wind started to swirl around her room. She felt a slight tugging at her arms; then it was like her entire body was being sucked throw a tube. Finally a tornado like cloud appeared on ceiling and the next thing Marinette knew was she was being pulled into it.

           Marinette screamed and clutched the kwami box tightly to her chest. Wind and lightning swirled around her. She closed her eyes, and wondered just what type of kwami Hawkmoth had unleased on Paris now.

           Then with a hard thud, she landed on a hard surface. She peaked and saw sunlight peeking through a window; and a forest of trees behind it.

Well, she thought, this is definitely not my room.

“Are you alright?”

           Marinette looked up and saw a group of people; mostly teenagers and one adult looking down at her. The girl who had spoken had big brown eyes and dark, almost black, hair.

“I’m fine,” Marinette said hesitantly. “What’s going on? I was just in my room and now I’m here.”

“Great!” A blond girl snapped. “The ritual was supposed to summon one of your psycho family members. How’d you manage to blow that, Hope?”

“I didn’t!” A girl with long Auburn hair and light blue eyes. “I can’t have. It’s a simple ritual. It was supposed to summon my closest relative.”

           Marinette blinked. Because Crap. “Did you say Hope?” She asked. “As in Hope Mikaelson?” Her sister. Her actual sister. She had always wanted to meet her.

“My name is Alaric,” The adult, a man, said as he stepped forward a curious look on his face. “How do you know Hope?”

           Marinette decided to give them man her best scary vampire face, “I don’t. Not really,” She hissed, fangs bared. The she went wolf mode; not a full transformation. Her clothes ripped a little though. “I was born a vampire.” She answered. “And went werewolf later.”

“You’re hybrid,” Hope gasped. “A natural hybrid.”

“Yes,” Marinette nodded. “Now by closest relative; she did you mean proximity or by blood. Because…” She looked around. “Seeing as I am no longer in Paris. I’m guessing by blood.”

           There was stunned faces as understanding slowly crept in.

“The ritual worked,” The brunette who spoke first said. “Surprisingly well.”

           Marinette smiled, “I’m Marinette,” She introduced herself. “Your sister.”

“Another one!” The blond yelled. She tossed her hands up in the air. “Great. Just great!”  And with that she stomped off.

           Alaric pinched his nose, “Klaus is not going to be happy about this.”

“Oh he’s gonna lose his shit,” Said Kaleb; he’d met the original once and decided that was enough.

“No one is going to happy about this,” Hope yelled. She knew that none of her family knew about Marinette. They couldn’t have. Her father barely let her come to school. He wouldn’t have let her live in another freaking country. “How? Just how?”

Marinette took a quick step back; a dismayed feeling overtook her.

“Hey,” The brunette said softly, giving the younger girl a kind smile, “That’s not what they mean. They’re just a little shocked right now. I’m Josie; a witch. How about I show you around campus while everyone calms down a bit.” She held out her hand to Marinette.

           Marinette clutched the kwami box but nodded and let Josie lead her out of the room.

“We need a plan,” Mg suggested.

“Plan?” Kaleb scoffed. “Bro, we need the Avengers. And Batman. Hell the U.S army and the xmen too. Klaus is going to tear this bitch apart.”

           Alaric took a deep breath, “No, he won’t.” He looked to Hope. “Call Rebecca, Freyja, here. Don’t tell them why. They’re the sane ones. They won’t overreact. Then we deal with Elijah, once he’s handled. We go for the big fish.”

“Shark,” Kaleb corrected. “Great white sharks! Except more bloodthirsty.”

           Hope nodded, “I’ll call them now, and then,” She winced. “Talk to my sister. Kidnapping and freaking out on her probably wasn’t the best first impression.”

“Nah,” Mj shook his head. “You tanked that.”

                       Convincing her aunts to visit her, under the guise of girl talk and girls day was easier than she expected. Talking to her little sister, while not harder, was considerably more awkward. She found the girl drinking a smoothie with Josie, giggling about something.

“Hey,” Hope smiled. “Found you!”

“Kidnapped me!” Marinette corrected.

           Hope winced, “Yeah. I should apologize, right?” Marinette gave her a look. “I’m really sorry. But hey, I got to find out I have a little sister. That’s awesome.”

“I’m going to leave you two alone,” Jose said and gave them a thumbs up.

           After that Hope and Marinette told each other about their lives. Marinette lived in Paris all her life and loved fashion; about the bakery and her parents. She didn’t find out about her birth family until she was ten. Hope told her what their family was like and what it been like growing up in New Orleans; and the best Beignets in the world.

“You’ll dad,” Hope grinned. “He’s artists like you, like me. Uncle Kol’s a bit wild. Uncle Elijah a bit too gentlemanly. Aunt Rebecca and Aunt Freyja are amazing. They’ll be here tomorrow. They will love you. They all will,” she assured.

           Marinette called her parents not long after and assured them she was fine. It was a little magical accident. She was with her sister. And asked if she could please, please stay for a bit of the summer break. Reluctantly, after a long conversation with Headmaster Alaric, they agreed, on the condition that Marinette calls them once a day. They send her stuff as soon as they could.

           The next morning, Hope greeted her Aunts with the biggest, most charming smile that she could. The each pulled her into a hug.

           When Rebecca pulled away, she smirked. “Now what did you do?” Before Hope could protest, her aunt added, “That’s the smile Klaus’ uses whenever he did something wrong.”

“Me?” Hope denied. “No, I didn’t do anything. I merely found out something. Something I should be rewarded for; I should get a raise in my allowance.”

           Freyja crossed her arms, “uh huh, so it’s something good?”

“It’s great,” Hope smiled. “But I’m going to need you to stop Dad from murdering everyone here and… in Paris.”

“Paris?” The blonds chimed together.

“Paris.”

           Explaining that she accidently summoned her sister, a child no one ever knew about, had been complicated. Rebecca didn’t believe it at first. Neither did Freyja Until Freyja had Hope repeat the ritual and a little darkhaired girl fell from the ceiling.

“Hope, we talked about this,” Marinette complained. She wore some borrowed clothes; a red top and light blue skinny jeans. “You just can’t summon people. I could’ve been in the shower.”

“Sorry,” Hope quickly helped her sister up. “Aunt Freyja made me.”

“Wow,” Said blond tutted. “Sold me out pretty quick there, kiddo.”

           Marinette eyed the two beautiful blond women. Her aunts. “Hi,” She squeaked, her face red, and leaned closer to Hope.

“You’re adorable!” Rebecca squealed. Then she turned to Freyja, “Klaus is going to lose it.”

           After some insight into Marinette’s life, a shopping trip, some fro-yo, Rebecca sighed when they returned back to the school. “We have to call Elijah.”

           Elijah had been curious about why his sisters summoned him to Hope’s school with the clear request of: Do not tell Klaus. He knew it must be serious, and something Klaus would not like.

           His sisters and niece greeted him in entry way of the school, and promptly led him back outside to the courtyard.

“What is the meaning of this,” He asked. “What purpose did I need to rush here a moment’s notice?”    

           His sisters looked at Hope who glared back. It was Freyja who broke first, “Klaus has another child; a girl. Her name’s Marinette, and she’s thirteen-years-old. And before you say; she is most definitely Klaus’ daughter. We checked. Six times. Two times a blood inheritance spell.”

“Yeah,” Hope drawled. “We have got to stop randomly summoning Marinette. She’s getting testy.”

           He looked at the three women. Rage soared through him. “Excuse me,” Elijah said before promptly walking into the forest and ripping apart a tree. Multiple trees, in fact. When he returned, he straighten out his tie, and gave them a nod, “Where is she? Where’s Marinette? And while we locate her, you will explain to me how this occurred.”

           They found Marinette, sitting on a window seal, sketching; lost in her newest design, as a means to stop her worrying.

“She’s look like him,” Elijah murmured. “The eyes, the nose, the concentration when creating new artwork.” This was his brother’s daughter, of that there was no doubt.

           Marinette suddenly looked up at them, her blues eyes examining her newfound family. She chuckled, “At least you didn’t summon me this time.”

“I am your Uncle Elijah,” He prompted introduced himself with a small bow.

           Marinette stood up and gave a small curtesy, “Marinette.” She said quietly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

           Elijah fought urge to coo. His sisters did not. Hope laughed, went to Marinette, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and pulled her into a hug causing Mariette to laugh as well.

The resemblance was there for all to see. The blue eyes, the devilish smiles, the same noses, cheekbones; clearly sisters. Clearly Klaus’ daughters; his little girls.

Marinette turned out to be wonderful; a shy thing with impeccable manners and a softness to her that no one else in the family had.

“I can prevent half from being killed,” Elijah told his sisters when they brought up Klaus. “But this place will still be a blood bath.”

           Marinette looked confused, “But why. I just got here. Harming anyone wouldn’t be rational.”

“Rational,” Rebecca laughed. “Yes because that’s the first thing that comes to mind when people talk about Niklaus; that he’s rational.”

“Rebecca!” Elijah hissed. He shook his head, “We need Kol.”

“Oh fuck no!” Kol yelled upon meeting Marinette, thus confirming his siblings were pulling some sort of prank. “I shouldn’t be here. I don’t want to be. You shouldn’t be here!” He yelled at his older siblings. “Klaus should’ve been the first one told.” He looked at Marinette. “I’m sure your great, love. I’ll love you in no time. However, right we have to prevent Klaus from committing mass murder… again.”

The plan was supposed to be really simple. They’d all go to New Orleans, where less of Alaric’s students could be harmed. Davina and Marcellus would distract Klaus long enough to lead him into a trap; a room where chains would wrap around the hybrid’s arms securing in place; only then would they tell him the truth.

           When the Originals, Hope and Marinette arrived to the house they found Marcellus and Davina waiting.

“What the hell is about,” Marcellus asked. “Klaus is going to rip my head off, you know that right.”

“This had better be good,” Davina nodded. “He’s already threatening to wipe out my entire blood line.”

“Trying to prevent the massacre of Paris,” Freyja nodded, “You two girls,” She looked at her nieces. “Stay here. Davina wait with them please.” She looked at the vampires. “Elijah take lead. Let’s do this.”

           Marinette watched in wonder as her aunts and uncles went inside. They didn’t smell afraid. They smelled concerned; like her mom did when she thought she left the iron on when she left the house.

Davina asked the smaller girl with Hope. “Can I ask…?”

           Hope quickly shook her head. ‘Not now’, she mouthed and pointed inside.

           Davina nodded.

           Elijah kept his calm façade as he approached his furious brother.

“Brothers; sisters, my family,” Klaus drawled, fury in his eyes. “I thought we’ve grown past this. May I ask what I could’ve possible done to deserve? And what Paris have to do with anything?”

“You’ve done nothing,” Elijah assured.

“I wouldn’t say nothing,” Kol smirked. “It took two to tangle after all.”

“Release me!” Klaus demanded. “Now!”

           Rebecca took a breath, “You need to calm. We have to tell you something; something important. And we need you to listen because we are telling you truth.”

“I’m in chains!” Klaus growled. “And you expect me to listen to you?”

“It is a precaution should you overreact,” Elijah stated. “We are your family. We need you to trust us.”

“Honestly, just don’t go batshit crazy,” Kol shrugged. “And kill half of New Orleans.”

           Klaus bared his teeth, “I’ve changed. I’ve grown. I will not go back to that.”

           Freyja steeled herself, “It’s about your daughter.”

           Klaus’ entire body stiffened, “What?” Fear and anger coursed through him. Was Hope alright? Did someone harm her? Where was she?

“Klaus, you have another child,” Elijah said bluntly. “A girl named Marinette. She’s thirteen and a born vampire; a hybrid since the age of ten. She is yours.”  

           Klaus froze in shook. His mind processing his brother’s words. He had another child; another daughter.

“Hope called us,” Rebecca said. “All of us to her school. She informed us of Marinette then, brother. And we needed to secure you because we were worried about your reaction when you found out.” Marcellus scoffed. She turned to look at him, “Did we do the right thing?”

           The black man shook his head, “No.”

“What did we do wrong?” Rebecca glanced at him and then back at Klaus.

“Well, you used chains,” Marcellus explained.

“What should we have used?”

           Marcellus crossed his arms, “Ahh, it wouldn’t matter.”

           Klaus roared and with all his strength he ripped the chains from the ground, destroying the hardwood in the process. He calmly removed them from his wrists and walked past his siblings. He could hear Hope’s heartbeat, and Davina’s as well. But there was another with them.

           The siblings followed after.

           Once Klaus was outside, his eyes went automatically to his beloved Daughter, “Hope,” He greeted slowly. Hope gave him a weary smile. Then to Davina. And then finally to a girl younger than Hope but had the same blue eyes, nose, and cheek bones. All which both girls got from him.

“Marinette,” Klaus whispered.

           The girl gave him a shy smile.

           Marinette couldn’t believe she was finally meeting her birthfather.  It would definitely.

           The girl, his daughter, was smaller than he expected; smaller than Hope had been at that age. Her presence wasn’t as confident either. There was a look in her eyes that she tried to hide but he knew well; fear. She didn’t smell afraid, just worried and a little sad. She was afraid of rejection.

“I have been blessed with two beautiful daughters,” Klaus said soothingly. “You live in France, yes. I will started my revenge there.”       And there went the good mood.

           Everything was chaos after that.

           Klaus insisted that his daughter was stolen. Marinette insisted she had been adopted. Her mother had given her up.

“And the father has no rights?” Klaus asked. He tried his best to remain maintain his false calmness. He never liked to get angry in front of his children.

“Well, in her defense, technically you are dead, brother,” Kol smirked when Klaus hissed at him. “It would be rather complicated to prove otherwise.”

“My parents,” Marinette said. Klaus growled. She continued on. “My parents are wonderful. They’re bakers with a successful shop. They love me very much.”

“Bakers!” Klaus grumbled. “My daughter was raised by bakers!”

           Marinette was rather surprised just how long it took to convince her father that mass murder wasn’t a suitable response for missing out on his daughter’s formative years. Then again, he was Klaus Mikaelson.

           After her father did calm down, it was pleasant. She was formally introduced to Marcellus, Rebecca’s husband, and Davina, Kol’s wife. She learned more about her family’s story and became content. Marinette was given a room next to Hope, and they laughed as they immediately left to decorate; chaperoned by Klaus, who was more than happy to pay for his girls’ shopping spree.

           Marinette was able to get paints for her new room, different cloths for makings clothes, more sketchbooks, paintings, and posters. Klaus bought her whatever she wanted, it was a wonder Hope wasn’t spoiled.

           First week living with her family she cooked with Freyja, played Poker with Kol, painted with her father (which led to a paint war where Hope and Marinette ganged up on him). Elijah taught her to waltz and told her all the things history forgot. She designed dressed for Rebecca, and tended to follow her free spirited Aunt around whenever she could. The only difficult part was sneaking away whenever there was an Akuma alert. But luckily Freyja magic’d her room to be soundproof so Marinette could privacy. Trixx had no problem pretended to be her, should anyone knock.

           Everything was good. Everyone was happy. Except for two times. The first came when Hope mentioned during dinner about returning to school.

“Oh, I’ll go with you,” Marinette said brightly to her sister who sat next to her, not noticing how her words caused the room’s occupants to stiffened. “I can give Lizzie the dress I made her. She’ll love it.”

“I still don’t get why she likes you and not me,” Hope asked incredulously.

           Marinette stuck her tongue out, “Josie likes you well enough. And Raphael. And Landon. And…”

“Oh shut up,” Hope blushed.

           Klaus sat his cup down slowly, “You will not being anywhere. You will remain here where you are safe.

           Hope and Marinette shared a look. Marinette had learned quickly that Klaus was overprotected. Marinette wasn’t allowed to go anywhere without an escort; usually a member of the family. Hope raised an eyebrow ask to ask if Marinette wanted her to handle. Marinette tilted her head the side, with both eyebrows raised; a team up, maybe. Hope smirked; that was a yes.

“No,” Klaus chastised. “No silent conversation at the dinner table. Or at all.” As much as he loved that his daughters got along so well, they tended to unite against him to get what they wanted.

           Hope smiled sweetly, “We won’t gone long. School’s letting out. We’ll be gone A day or two at most.”

“I really like Hope’s school,” Marinette said earnestly. “I’ve never met so many kids like me before.”

Elijah decided to aid his brother. “A school full of barely trained vampires, witches, and werewolves. It is dangerous.”

“Oh come on,” Hope crossed hers. “I’m there most of the year.”

“That’s different,” Freyja said. “You’re older; more mature.”

“Well that’s hardly fair,” Kol narrowed his eyes. He used to get told the same thing when he was a child and still human. “Marinette is plenty mature. Age shouldn’t be a factor.”

           Klaus glared at his brother, “And yet it is. You will remain here with me. Hope will give Lizzie the dress you designed.”

           Hope and Marinette shared another look and then turned to their father with their ultimate weapon in full force; puppy-dog eyes sat to ultimate cuteness. “Please!” They chimed together.

           Klaus’ mouth dropped slightly. The adorableness of his daughter was nearly crippling. “No,” he said again. “I will not budge on my decision.”

           The girls frowned, and increased their puppy eyes to death level. Their lips wobbled, their eyes glistened with presence of potential tears.

“Stay strong, brother,” Elijah told him.

“Say the man who is doing his best to avoid looking directly at them,” Rebecca giggled.

           Klaus’ face softened. No, he told himself, we will not give in. “Never!”

“Pretty, pretty please,” The teenage girls pleaded.

“…Fine.”

           The next not so good time came a month later; when Marinette got an Akuma alert late at night. She had been getting a midnight snack when her phone beeped. Marinette had no choice but to rush upstairs, transform, and leave. Unfortunately for her, she hadn’t shut the door all the way, meaning that the silencing spell didn’t go into effect.

           It had been multiple Akumas; terrible ones that led to Marinette calling in Kagami, Chloe, and Luka to help her and Chat. It had taken a long time, a lot more than Marinette realized. When Marinette finally asked someone the time, she realized half the day had passed. She hoped Trixx had been able to keep up the illusion.

           Marinette portaled back to her room feeling more tired than she ever had before. Only to find Freyja waiting on her bed with the kwami box on her lap.

“Do you have any idea how much your trouble you’re in?” Her aunt asked.

           Turned out, her father had come to check on her after he returned home for the night only to find the room empty. However, it was only when his family confirmed they had no idea where his youngest daughter was, that he got angry. They all got angry; fear that someone had taken Marinette. They broke out in different search parties; trying to locate a scent to follow.

           Freyja, however, went to Marinette’s room, and to her surprise as soon as she touched the door, Marinette’s voice said she was busy. The blond woman opened the door to find a little fox creature looking frightened.

           The kwami had decided to explain a few things about themselves before the angry looking blond decided to try to smite them.

“Oops?” Marinette offered.

           Freyja raised an eyebrow, “Oops?” She shook her head. She handed Marinette the box. “Come on, guardian. You have some explaining to do.” Freyja opened the door for Marinette.

           Marinette, with the box in her hand, reluctantly followed her aunt to the living room where her family waited.

“Marinette!” Her father yelled, and before she knew it she was in a hug. “Where were you? Do you have any idea how worried I was? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” She promised, and pulled away. “I’m fine,” She said again to her worried looking family.

“What happened?” Hope asked; beyond emotionally exhausted and physically, from the nights events. “You just disappeared.”

           Freyja nodded, “It’s turned out our darling little Marinette is more magical than she led us to believe.”

           Marinette nodded and opened the box. The kwami flew out of it; setting everyone on guard. The kwami flew around the room introducing themselves. “So… Did I ever tell you I was a superhero?”

“No,” Marcellus chuckled, reaching out slowly for the floating Ox type creature.  “No. You didn’t. I’d remember that conversation.”

“Yeah… well it’s like this…”

           The Ladybug, magical guardian of little gods, and fighting a supernatural terrorist didn’t go over well. To close out her story, and to prove it, Marinette transformed into Ladybug, and transformed back.

           The room was silent.

“You are a child,” Elijah finally said, rage slowly growing inside him. “Children do not go to war. They are not sent to war!”

           Marinette winced, “It’s not really a war. More like a Batman versus the Joker.”

“But people have died,” Rebecca said, petting Pollen. “Sure, they’re brought back but they still died; you’re partner, Chat Noir died a few times.”

“What happens if you die, kiddo,” Davina asked. She played with Ziggy in her lap. “Only Ladybug can reverse what the akuma’s done. What happens if Ladybug dies before that happens? Who brings you back?”

           Marinette looked down, and remained silent because they all knew the answer to that. No one. If ladybug died, she died.

“So this dude’s possessing school children,” Marcellus said. “And everyone else is so much as feel a lick negative emotion. The only people trying to stop the psychopath is a thirteen-year-old who can do a magical girl transformation leading a bunch of other teenagers who can do the same trick? Really.”

“We’ve been hunting him,” Marinette sighed. “Hawkmoth is possible to find.”

“I’ll help!” Hope said.  Roaar was on her shoulder. “You have other Kwami. I can use Roaar. I’ll fight with you.” Her sister was a superhero. It was the coolest thing ever. Everyone knew who Ladybug was. Her posters covered a lot of her fellow students’ walls.

“No!” Half the room shouted.

           Klaus glared, “No more fighting. This ends.” Someone had been trying to kill his little girl since she first adorned her hero name. “I’ll find Hawkmoth. And I’ll rip him to pieces.”

“No, brother,” Kol stated. “We’ll rip him to pieces.”

           There were nods.

“How? I can’t find him,” Marinette asked. “I can’t even scent him.”

“Fear not, little one,” Elijah had a dark smile on his face. “No one can hide from The Originals.”

           Ziggy flew up and whispered in Davina’s ear. A dark look appeared on her lovely face, the room crackled with her power, “What’s this about you being bullied?”

“Bullied?” Hope shouted. “Who’s bullying you? I swear.”

           Klaus closed his eyes. On top of everything Marinette was going through, she was being bullied as well. “Explain.”

           And so Marinette did. She told about her Lila came to class; lied, turned everyone against her, and pretty much left her friendless in class apart from Adrien and Chloe. How her things were ripped up, the mean texts she got, all the dirty looks. She missed Alya, or rather she missed the Alya that had been her bestie. She missed hanging out with Kim and Alix. But she knew, even if the truth came out, they’d never be friends again. By the end of her story, Marinette had shed a few tears and looked very much like the thirteen-year-old she was.

“So Lila’s dead, right?” Kol said. “No objections? Good. I get dips.”

“You can’t kill her.” Marinette stated.

“Pretty sure I can,” Kol drawled.

           Hope narrowed her eyes, “Not kill her. We’re going to do something worse.” She promised. No one messed with her family and got away with it. “We’re going to make her tell the truth.”

“Compel her,” Rebecca nodded. “Make the little shrew learn a lesson or two.”

“Why haven’t you compelled her?” Freyja asked. “I would’ve had the little bitch take a long walk off a short ledge by now.”

“It’s not nice,” Marinette shrugged.

           Kol pinched his nose, “Oh we have so much to teach you.” He smirked. “Mikaelsons’ are not nice.”

“We’re not mean,” Hope added. “But we’re not nice.”

“And most importantly,” Klaus broke in. “If you mess with one us, you mess with all of us. We are family.”

“Always and forever,” Hope said.

           Marinette nodded. “Always and forever.”

           For the next few days, her family watched her like a hawk. Marinette didn’t know if Hawkmoth had been drained from the multiple akumas or what, but it took a week before another alert appeared.

           Luckily for her, Hope was on guard duty while the rest of the family either in town taking care of business or was in the woods, close by, perfecting their hunting skills. Marinette had been sketching with Hope in the living room when her phone chimed. She glanced at it and saw the Akuma Alert.

           She glanced at the stairs. Could she do it, she wondered. Could she make it up the stairs to her room and portal out before anyone caught her.

“Don’t even think about,” Hope said putting down her paint brush. She held up her own phone, and gave Marinette a look. “You’re not the only one who gets notified now. If you’re going, I’m going.”

           Marinette sighed, “Fine but if you’re going to fight; you’re suiting up.”

“Just one thing…” Hope trailed off. “It’s another multi-akuma alert. I think we’re going to need more help.”

“What are you thinking?”

           Hope grinned.

           Lizzie, Josie, Raphael, Landon, and MJ stood in front of Marinette and Hope looking stunned. After a few vows of secrecy, Marinette had transformed into Ladybug in front of them.

“You’re Ladybug,” Lizzie grinned. “And you want me, us, to do a superhero team up. I knew I liked you.”

“And you don’t like me,” Hope added. “What the hell?”

“That’s what’s up,” Kaleb said and gave MJ a low-five. “Free trip to Paris and I get to be superman for the day.  Let’s do this.”

“This is incredible,” Josie looked like her mind was processing a thousand thoughts a second, “I’ve heard of the Kwami and the guardian. But I just thought they were legends. Or that they’d died out. Dad’s going to flip.

           Landon looked concerned, “it’s safe, right. The transformation. Not fighting an evil terrorists. Because that’s obviously not safe.”

           Hope looked at Marinette who nodded. The older girl grinned, “Roaar, strips on!” And just like that, Hope was transformed into a tiger-themed hero; her hair was intricately braid back, she had ear and a tail; her custom was mostly black with orange stripes. She had long claws, and staff. “Easy as pie.”

“Oh I’m in,” Raphael said. “Try and stop me. Wait do who I get?”

           That started the request and arguments.

           In the end, Lizzie got Trixx. Kaleb got Stompp. Josie got Fluff. MJ got Barrk. Raphael got Wayzz. And Landon received Mullo.

           Marinette briefly briefed them about their powers and what to expect. She opened a portal.

           Hope ran to the window, “Hey, we’re going to fight an evil megalomaniac in Paris be home soon.” And then the kids were gone.

           Elijah and Kol who had been in the woods when they heard Hope yell raced back. However, by the time they arrived, the kids were gone.

“Ok, Marinette is just not making this easy on us,” Kol huffed. “She’s not even pretending to.”

           Hawkmoth didn’t see the new team of heroes coming. The akumas were quickly dismantled. The older teenagers had the time of their lives running around Paris, using superpowers in public, something they always had to avoid before; and just being their full awesome selves.

           When the battle was over, and the kids had transformed and retuned all phone call they’d missed. Alaric wasn’t happy about their spontaneous superhero trip. Klaus wasn’t happy they left without informing him, or taking him with them. He also wasn’t happy about Caroline calling just to yell at him for her daughters running off to Paris to become an Avenger.

           The kids promised they’d be home soon; said the kwami to transport had to recharge. Technically that was true. However, the kids took their sweet time roaming around Paris. Marinette introduced Hope to her parents, who easily took a shine to their daughter’s sister.

           Lizzie spent most of the time; spamming the online student website with pictures of herself in Paris.

           When the kids ran into Lila and Alya on the way out of a boutique. The girls had been nasty as soon as they saw Marinette, causing the older teens to glare. They had heard from Hope about Marinette’s bullying situation, and they were ready to raise hell. However before Marinette or even Hope could get involved, Lizzie Saltzman. She knew a bully when she saw one.

“You bad hair and awful clothes,” Lizzie pointed at Lila. “What’s your name?”

“Lila Rossi,” Alya snapped. Lila pretended to cry. “The Lila Rossi. The Nicest girl on the planet.

“Yeah whatever,” Lizzie pulled out her phone. She showed her phone screen. “Look at the type Lila Rossi in google, and nothing. Google doesn’t care. Don’t see why I should.”

           Alya blinked, “That’s not right,” She murmured and pulled out her phone. And sure enough, “Nothing. Just what I put on the Ladyblog.”

“You mean the blog Ladybug herself discredited?” Josie asked, with a raised eyebrow. “Because of lies. Maybe Lila’s why stopped trusting you.”

           Mj stepped forward and looked Lila in the eyes, “You are going to tell everyone in your class just how much a liar you really are,” He compelled her. “And for the next month, you are only going to tell the truth. You will not bother Marinette again.” He looked at Alya. “Both of you leave. Now.”

           With blank stares the girls departed.

           By the time Marinette got back to New Orleans and to her family, her phone had been flooded messages of apologies. She didn’t respond to a single one. Instead, she helped her family prepare for their trip to Paris.

           Hawkmoth wouldn’t know what hit him.

[local80smotel]

Midnight wind

pairing; V x air bending! Reader

summary; Y/N gains powers and after escaping Larkhill wants to get revenge

requested by; @scatter-mind001

rating; T

warnings; heavy mention of guard-on-prisoner abuse

word count; 2,311

A/N; I'm actually thinking of making a part two of this but I'm actually very satisfied with it! Thank you for the request!

Y/N remembered the night they were stolen from their normal daily life and how much terror pulsed through their body. The reason? Y/N's family were proud Irishmen and refused to hide that fact from anyone. They went as far as to hang the Irish flag outside their home instead of the Norsefire flag which they were commanded to do so. It became an inside joke of the neighborhood on how long it would take for the L/N family to be removed.

Some even betted money. Unsurprisingly it happened around seven months into high Chancellor Sutler's term that the raid happened. Y/N thought they would be spared as they broke down their bedroom door around 1:34 AM. Sadly they were wrong as they were 17 and was seen as being "too old" to be sent to a reclamation camp. Y/N was sent to Larkhill while their parents were sent to two different camps.

This fact was the thing that caused the kid to wail almost every hour of the day when they were forced to stay in their cell. Oh, what would they say to their parents instead of blaming them for this. They should have known they would do something as heartless as break a family up. Larkhill was, to put it shortly and simply, was living hell. The only time Y/N got human interaction was when they were getting experimented on and even then the scientists were anything but kind.

What messed with Y/N's head the most was the lack of clocks or calendars in the camp. Seconds seemed to turn into hours as they would just lay on the concrete floor and stare at the ceiling. The only thing that kept their spirits high was one of the fellow prisoners at Larkhill. The first time they talked was when snow started to stick to the corpse ridden ground. He was quiet and had issues with mumbling and when asked what his name was, he became silent for a few moments only for him to reply with an “I can't remember”.

The two of them decided to give him the name of V as it was the roman numeral for five, his room number. Y/N never knew why but V was the one that the prison guards would abuse when they would become enraged at something. Maybe it was because he didn't try to fight back as other prisoners did. When asked by Y/N why he wouldn't stand up for himself he told her “What's the point?”. V especially enjoyed hearing about the gunpowder plot of 1605 and started to idolize Guy Fawks, the man who had planned the explosion. They couldn't help but giggle when V would ask so many questions like a knowledge-hungry child.

The experiments Y/N experienced was... Something. A theory the scientists had was that an increase in air and maybe using the old-time favorite, electric shock therapy, would bring answers and results. When it came to the air theory, many of their "guinea pigs" had already died as they had been injected with 2.7 mL of air which killed them almost immediately. But somehow, after the now 18-year-old had their brain almost fried, survived and only passed out after the 1.5 mL mark.

When they woke up their food, or better yet described as slop, was harshly thrown into their room.

Y/N feeling nauseous, tried to push away the plate even though it was five feet away from them. To their astonishment, it moved and banged loudly against the thick metal door which left a dent in it. The now curious Y/N would test this new power by "playing" with the local camp rats. When they'd come into their room to eat their food, they flick a wisp of air which would hit them like a whip. As a result, the poor creature would run away squeaking in pain but luckily not bleeding.

What's ironic was both the rat and Y/N were somewhat the same as both were hungry, alone, and puzzled on this new ability. They had never used this power on the workers until they had practiced for three months. At this point in time, they knew how to control how much power they let out and what they would call an "air-blast" which was a shot a compressed spurt of air from their hands. It was hard to practice as they were being restricted in an 8ft by 8ft cell.

When Y/N attacked the scientists it was initially an accident. What caused this? They tried to eject more air into them as almost all of the scientists that worked for the camp were perplexed on how they were still alive. Once 0.5 mL of air was pushed into them, poor Y/N was sent into a panicked state as they could feel their heart starting to skip beats. They were able to strike two of the five people in the room until they were restrained and subdued.

After that, they were moved from room #4 to one of the more secure rooms. With this happening V was under the impression that Y/N had been executed or died that day. V was sent into a blind rage and well, you can guess what happened next. Around midnight, a few weeks after their move to room #12, explosions woke them from their deep slumber. When they awoke they expected to see complete darkness but were entirely wrong.

The fire was everywhere, making it hard for the know coughing inmate to focus on what was happening. Once they were able to get up they immediately looked for shoes. Sure, it sounds selfish at first but they were looking for shoes not so they could run away but so they could look for their only friend, the man in room #5. Sadly, when they heard a loud scream- no, it was more of a roar, they were under the belief that the fire had devoured him. Y/N couldn't help but fall to the ground which was covered in rubble to sob.

This wasn't fair. This place had taken everything from him; his memories, his name, his humanity, and now it had taken his life. The rest of the night was a blur as they tried to travel back to London. This took weeks as the adult was too exhausted to stay up for more than 8 hours as their sleep schedule, just like their will to live, had been completely destroyed by Larkhill. When they finally got to London it was pitch black.

Their heart stung as they walked the brick sidewalk. Their heart was breaking because V and them had talked about this back when they were still cell neighbors. They were so hopeful that they'd get to walk down the streets together once they were free. Y/N was lucky enough to find an abandoned matchbox factory. They decided to stay in the basement of the burned down building as it would be the safest choice when it came to being seen.

Slowly, over the next four years, they fixed up their new lair. They got working electricity and indoor plumbing after trying hundreds of times. The escapee finally got a television after trash diving and finding a still working 70s one. The first channel they watched was "The voice of London" as they heard through the grapevine that it was a news channel. Y/N went to channel 012 and once they saw the News host, their excitement left their body.

It, it was him. Lewis Prothero, the man who would frequently abuse the prisoners of Larkhill. Just seeing him made their blood start to boil. They instantly got off of their makeshift couch, walking back and forth as they mumbled under their breath. They could have sworn they saw Lewis' dead body that night of the fire. This simply wasn't fair.

For the next few weeks, they began to plan, gradually gathering information on where Lewis was living now. The night they finally got his extract location, they were overwhelmed with joy. Y/N grabbed their jacket, as winter was finally rolling around so the winds would nip at them, and left the bunker.

They took flight, fury making it seem like they were moving two times as faster as they should be. Y/N had learned this new ability when they lost all earthly ties after V died. Sure, flying still freaked them out but it was the fastest and safest way. When they slowly approached the building, they prepared for what they would have to do next, which was break the giant window to get inside. They took a deep breath in and air hit and kicked the window in rapid succession, shattering it after just a few hits.

Rolling inside and brushing off pieces of glass, Y/N proceeded to walk in the direction of the home's bathroom as they heard the water running. When they opened the door the first thing that drew their eye was a black mass.

“Lew-” they began their speech they had been writing and tweaking over the last weeks but stopped midway through the first word when the mass turned to them. This wasn't Lewis, this was a random masked person. Before they could ask where their victim was, the man stepped out of the way to reveal the lifeless body on the floor which had a single rose on his chest.

Anger filled them as they looked back up at the masked man. Y/N was supposed to get revenge for their long-dead friend. They RUINED this moment. How was Y/N supposed to help V heal in his grave?

“You!” they screamed as they swiped the air, turning their swipes into blades. “How dare you?! You have no clue what he did!” the man was pushed back by the amount of force the wind carried in it

“Wait let me explain!” the Guy Fawks mask-wearing murderer shouted as they fell to the ground with a knee on the floor to keep them up.

“You weren't there! You weren't mistreated!”

“No Y/-”

Using their oldest power, the air blast, tears were already seeping down their face which was twisted in what seemed to be never-ending pain. The blast hit them directly in the face as they groaned out in pain and finally fell the floor, making a loud thud as their skull hit the marble floor. Y/N strolled over to the body to finish them off so they could get some kind of revenge, only to stop with their body now feeling numb. Their mask, now cracked and was flung off of his face and now somewhere else on the floor with his hat.

“You-” their breathing became shallow as they dropped to the floor with them. “You asshole!” Y/N grabbed the collar of his cap, once again crying but now more violently. “I thought you died- you left me! You left me to suffer alone!” they laid their head on their chest as they continued to sob. V just had to lay there as their close friend cried over them. His skin felt like it was burning as the bathroom's overhead light was beating down on him. He couldn't help but start to cry too. V never wanted to leave them, he was under the impression Y/N has already died. That impression was the reason why he exploded Larkhill.

“I tried looking for you-”

“Well, you didn't try hard enough then!”

There was a moment of silence as the two friends wept next to the freshly dead body of their abuser. V moved them into a hug as he sat upright, rocking them gently as he did so.

“Stop-” they hiccuped “treating me like a baby”

“But that's the only way you'll calm down. You told me this yourself Y/N.”

They rubbed their eyes as they looked up at the severely burnt man. His skin looked inflamed from his crying. They tried to reach up and touch him but he jerked his head back the second their hand went up.

“How did you survive?”

“I can ask you the same thing.”

Y/N rolled their eyes at his reply. Typical V behavior, they thought to themselves. They stayed this way for a few more moments until the realization of where they were set in.

“Welp, we must be going now, police will come any second. We'll be executed if we're found here.” V sprang up, walking over to his mask and hat and quickly put them back where they belonged. Y/N followed suit, already walking out of the bathroom and to the window they had broken to get inside.

“Where are you going?” V asked as the night wind went through his hair

“Home?” they answered back, hoping that they could still fly now that they knew V was alive.

“But that's the completely wrong way.” they looked over at him, confusion on their face as they opened their mouth to speak before V interrupted them, oh how V had a horrible habit of that.

“You're coming home with me. I'm not letting my dear friend live on the street or in some broken-down building.” he held out his hand to them. Y/N could feel V smirking under his cracked mask and rolling their eyes gave them their hand.

[ecccentrick]

Jaskier Should Really Listen To Geralt pt. 2

Pt.1 || Pt. 3 || Ao3

This is my last writing post here, since I now have a writing blog @eccentrick-ramblings. Prompts and requests are open.  

--

Jaskier had many talents. He could sing, write, dance, play multiple instruments, and was something of a scholar, if did say so himself. But one talent that was known but was hardly spoken of in polite company was the one that was going to get him out of this situation alive. 

He was going to slut it up.

Making himself relax back into the bed, he slid one of his hands through the monster’s thick hair, humming as though content with the current state of things. The creature’s hand of steel relaxed minutely against Jaskier’s stomach and he forced himself not to take a shuddering breath, instead breathing from his diaphragm. 

“So you’re one of those, huh?” Jaskier asked, letting his voice go slightly rough. 

The monster stiffened. 

“Of what?”

Jaskier widened his legs. The beast nestled deeper between them, his whole upper body splaying across Jaskier’s. He tried not to take that as the threat it surely was. 

Turning his head so that his lips brushed against the monster’s ear at every syllable, he said, “Hm, one of those men who enjoys roleplay of the, uh, should I say, unconventional sort? Can’t say I’ve come across too many, but I’m always willing to give things a try.”

The beast pulled back from Jaskier’s neck to stare into his eyes, like he was going to ask if Jaskier was truly that dumb and horny. And Jaskier could hear Geralt’s reply in his mind, yes. 

Wait. Geralt.

Shit.

Okay, so Jaskier had a new idea. He wouldn’t just deescalate the situation like previously planned, stall until Geralt came back empty handed and frustrated. Jaskier would actually have to save himself this time. And, now that he thought about it, the rest of the residents of the inn. 

He was beginning to realize why Geralt was so crotchety all the damn time.

Something in the monster’s eyes changed, a dawning understanding and anticipation. It was feral and raw and Jaskier met it with one of his own, shifting his hips up. He almost had it. 

With one hand still in its hair, he trailed the other up its torso, gently touching its sides, before getting to its shoulder blades, fingertips clenching the muscle and bone there, digging his fingernails in hard enough that if it were a human, there would surely be marks left behind. 

“What is it you have in mind?” The beast slurred his words, despite having only one watered down ale that evening. 

The hand holding Jaskier down raised up, higher and higher, until it came around his neck, a soft shackle. His heart beat double time, and he sucked in a breath that he could still blessedly take, for now. 

His mind blanked for a few seconds, because, to be completely honest, this beast was hitting all of Jaskier’s buttons. If this man were a human, they would surely get up to some great fun. Jaskier couldn’t stop himself from thinking about Geralt. Geralt leaning over him, Geralt holding him down, Geralt’s calloused and scarred hand around his neck, holding him in place, stealing his breath. 

Without having the feign a moan, Jaskier said, “Well, why don’t you chase me?” he dug his nails in deeper. “Capture me. Hunt me down.”

The beast sucked in a harsh breath and Jaskier knew he had him, once and for all. Better or for worse. 

“Perhaps I should give you a head start?” the monster asked. “But you’d have to be quiet, not wake anyone up. Wouldn’t want anyone to be in the crosshairs of a hunt, now would you?”

--

The creaking of the stairs almost did him in. 

The innkeeper had muted the lights in the dining area, leaving them only bright enough to cast shadows and create a sense of unease. Or perhaps that was because he had a beast after him, coming for his blood. Literally. 

He tried to move quietly. The steps creaked. That small sound, so inconsequential, made him realize all that was at stake. The innkeeper, who now most likely slept in the kitchen so her guests could have the rooms, the father and child that were staying in the room next to his, and the orange cat that liked to slink around guests' ankles...their lives were all in jeopardy, and only Jaskier being a good little lamb to slaughter might save them.

What the beast didn’t know was that the lamb intended to lead it to its end. 

He opened the door slowly, silently. Fresh air filled his lungs, crisp and cool. The moon was high in the sky, lighting the way for Jaskier, his socked feet kicking up dust as he went from a slow creep to a desperate sprint in a span of seconds. 

The village was close to a forest, and knowing it was the best place for cover, Jaskier ran for it. Once treetops came overhead, he stopped for a quick breather and to orient himself. 

Geralt always told Jaskier what direction he’d be going in on any hunt. It wasn’t always that way; the bard searching and finding an overdosed witcher next to a dead leshen after he failed to arrive back at the tavern set that to rights. Luckily Jaskier had memorized Geralt’s potions long ago, or he’d be dead and buried. 

Geralt had told him he was heading southwest, which was. . .which way was it? He was fucked, wasn’t he? And not even by a deathless death like all scandalous bards want to go out. 

“Okay, let’s see. Eeny, meene, miny. . .moe! This way then.” 

He dashed in that direction, heading deeper into the woods. He ran until his legs burned, until the wagon roads gave way to deer tracks, until there was nothing but trees, brush and silence. Not even an owl dared to hoot. The monster was here coming for him. 

Jaskier took a deep breath, filling his lungs to their capacity. And then, in that creepy quiet, he screamed. 

“GERALT! GERALT! GERALLLT IT’S AFTER MEEEE!” 

Waiting only a beat, Jaskier continued his flight. There was no sign of the grumpy witcher, and he just gave away his ruse. Perhaps the fear had addled his mind. He should’ve been sneakier, hid in a hollow tree stump, or something. Taken his perfume bottle with him and doused a trail of potent fragrance behind each step. But, then, the monster could follow that too. Hell, even a particularly observant human would’ve been able to trace him; he always bought the strong stuff. 

“DAMMIT!”

He was soon lost, hopelessly and completely. The lights from the village had long since dimmed and he didn’t know which way was the way back. At least if the monster got to him, the others might be spared until Geralt could find it and kill it. His death wouldn’t be in vain. Perhaps he’d even become a local hero. 

A branch to his left cracked. A rustling, then a growl. Footsteps, and then the monster revealed himself, moving from shadows and into the moonlight. It was a great entrance, the bard had to give him that. Points for the dramatics. At the very least, Jaskier wouldn’t die a boring death. 

“It’s as I thought. You were running to your witcher. I’d be angry, but that’ll make this more interesting.”

Jaskier grit his teeth. “You’re awfully arrogant for a monster in the sights of a witcher. The White Wolf. You’ll be dead by morning and Geralt and I will be walking the Path again.”

The beast came closer, his steps measured and sure. Suddenly, he was at Jaskier’s side, a hand at his delicate neck and another on his right shoulder. Back, back, back the monster pushed him, until he hit the nearest tree, bark digging into his exposed neck. He squeezed Jaskier’s neck, bringing a wheeze from the bard’s lips.

“Why. . .” the hand tightened and the longing to cough almost made him gag, “Why me?” 

“Because of your blood, it smells so rare, so fine. None of these backwater hicks taste of anything but the dirt under my boots. But you. . .such fresh nectar.”

“Th-That’s a little insulting,” he took a harsh gulp of air, and it whistled in his throat. “That you- only - wanted me - my blood - not my - da-dashing good-”

“Enough, Jaskier. Save your breath.”

 “G-Ger-”

His back, once against rough bark, was now against a hard chest. And there was that band of steel around his neck. Air fought to get into his lungs, and his voice demanded to be heard but he couldn’t talk, couldn’t make the words form on his lips. Eyes bulged and the skin of his face heated. He was being strangled, and instead of a thoughtless tumor it was at the will of someone who chose to steal his breath until he had none left. 

Soft hands tore against steel. Feet dug into earth, kicked and scrambled, never meeting anything solid besides the ground. Reason fled his mind, and he was just a vessel. A vessel that wanted free. 

“Jaskier, stay calm!” Geralt’s voice reached his ears, echoing. Oh, there was still some hope. He might survive. 

“So I see that you’re a coward,” Geralt said. 

Jaskier was about to be offended until the beast spoke. 

“You’re trying to appeal to my ego. You do care for this bard, then?” 

Geralt was all wobbly and misty, like he was made of liquid bones. His eyes were black, veins a dark gray. Jaskier tried to squint, rapidly blink, but he wouldn’t stay put, wouldn’t go back to normal. 

His throat ached. 

“Let the bard go. He played his part of the bait, now let him go and we can end this. You...you hunt and kill the weak and expect not to be confronted? Take a hostage, a meat shield. Pathetic and cowardly.” 

“I don’t think I’m going to do that. I’m probably all of those things, now that I think about it, and I don’t rightly care. Now, can’t you see I’m celebrating a holiday? The moon is full.”

“Higher vampire. Shit.”

The vampire laughed and that’s when things got fuzzy for Jaskier. He wanted to come out of his skin, wanted to be able to see clearly. His heart felt like it wanted to gallop out of his chest and race Roach. 

“You know what? I’ll just save this for later.”

A prickling sensation started at his side and spread, tendrils of numbness. It quickly became a burning feeling and with it came air, blessed air. The ground met his body. The steel band was gone.

He took a few moments to catch his breath. Each gulp of air felt like swallowing hot coals, his lungs screaming. Once clarity disrupted the fog over Jaskier’s mind he trailed a shaking hand to his side. It came back sticky with blood. He glanced up and saw the vampire lick long, protruding claw-like nails.

In the wise words of Geralt of Rivia, fuck. 

[undertaker1827]

Not a request. I would like to know your opinion on what Undertaker's overall plan is. He made those dolls and brought o!Ciel back but for what reason and what else is he planning? 🤔 Thank you! (feel free to delete)

Absolutely! This is part one of two, I’ll link the second part when it’s written. In the meantime, hello, welcome and strap yourselves in for one hell of a ride, we’re almost on 2000 words! Let’s go!

❗️obviously spoiler warning!!!! Also, I’ve only read up to chapter 148 so if you’ve read further, please don’t spoil anything for me either!! Thank you! ❗️

-

Way back at the end of the Circus Ark, undertaker said this;

So, whatever happened with Cloudia (which needs to be put in a whole other theories post) must have involved her being overly blasé about her life/soul, in a similar way to Ciel and Vincent, I would say. Obviously the connection between Undertaker and the Phantomhives is much bigger than anything we know about and I’m willing to bet it is connected to more than just Undertaker bringing R!Ciel back to life (again, another theory post needed).

ANYWHO back on track.

Now Undertaker always talks about being happy/laughing/not wasting your soul (and by extension, life). We know he committed suicide when he was human (yet another tangent I want to go off on) after which he obviously didn’t want to have to face another life. So what, did he just get sick of reaping and the soul world and decide if he was being forced to live anyway, he should do something with his life this time? Which is where going to the human world comes into play, but (okay we’re off track again) what really happened 50 years ago?? Why did he actually leave dispatch and effectively become a fugitive? Surely there must be more to it than ‘I got bored’. And what, he just magically got involved with the Phantomive family? One of the most important families in England who also happen to operate within the underworld and work for the queen? I don’t think so. He definitely knew what he was doing. The question is, why did he do it?

Back to the task in hand, during this part of Book of the Atlantic;

Ciel actually looks scared. Ignoring everything we know about him/his personality and just looking at his face in the drawing, he looks young and frightened. Now imagine when O!Ciel was little. Undertaker would have been around a lot when him and R!Ciel were growing up, we even see him holding up the curtain behind the kids for their photograph later on in the series. O!Ciel now, as the Earl, is obviously very used to Undertaker’s antics, like his prices for information, so perhaps this was why he was goaded into paying said price himself earlier on, instead of letting Sebastian do it. Clearly, having seen Undertaker’s face for the first time, seen him attack Grell (who even Seabstain had to play dirty to beat) AND look serious all in one hit? Big shock. But that face to me is still a picture of fear rather than surprise, again demonstrating how well Undertaker kept his true identity hidden. Still, even as the lowkey crazy mortician, he’s not exactly someone you would trust your kids with. This says to me Vincent knew more about Undertaker than just face value and he knew the reaper would stay loyal to the Phantomhives. And THAT’S another thing; why?? Why would he, how could Vincent be so certain? Was it because of Cloudia? Did Vincent grow up with Undertaker around the same way the twins did?

But then there are other questions! How did he end up establishing his business? As in both sides of it. Dispatch must have searched for him, he was their best in collections, so how did he keep his true identity a secret from literally everyone, even them? Also, how much did the Phantomhives (prior to Ciel) know about him? Did Cloudia or Vincent know he was a reaper? I don’t believe that he was as close to Vincent and the twins as he was without Vincent knowing something was up. I mean the earl was very clever, in his line of work he had to be, and he trusted Undertaker with his kids, which must mean something.

Then there’s the thing with Othello. I mean clearly they know each other, hardly surprising, but Undertaker was this high flying INCREDIBLY serious collections reaper, compared to Othello (much as I love him) who couldn’t fight and ended up in forensics, the department which has practically no contact with the human world. So it makes sense that Othello knows about Undertaker, maybe even looked up to him, who knows, but why would Undertaker know Othello?

And whilst we’re on the subject (which we’re not) how did he get all those scars?? When he’s drawing wearing different clothes than normal, they are literally all over him. Anyone could have been fatal, particular focus on the one around his neck and across his chest. Now when we see him working as a reaper, he doesn’t have those scars. Given how good a fighter he is, there’s not a human in the world who could have done that. That leaves anything supernatural - demons, angels or even other reapers - which would have meant he fought them and survived (barely?). But the injuries must have been very bad to have scarred like that in the first place. Either that, or they’re fake and he just outs them on to mess with the characters’ (our) minds.

But moving on, when Ciel asks ‘to what end?’, Undertaker replies with;

So in other words, when he first rocked up in the human world, it probably was just curiosity. He needed some sort of a cover up for who he really was, so he set up a morgue. Why not? Maybe, during his many reaping jobs, he had come into contact with the work/estate of the Phantomhives. Enter Cloudia, and whatever happened there, happened. But somehow he went to serious reaper looking at the human world and the individuals living in it as one big experiment to actually caring about his lab rats. To have Cloudia’s mourning locket and be as fond of it as he is, something, in some way, must have changed. Another question is the rest of the mourning lockets. Unless they’re just for show so he can carry Cloudia’s and still fit in reasonably well (which I don’t think is the case) he must have cared about each of those people, and thus far, we have no idea who they are.

But then there’s THIS;

Bold words for a guy who cares far far too much about Ciel’s family, knowing full well right from the beginning that he would well and truly outlive them. But here is where the caring part comes in;

Unless he was taking about Sebastian. But even if he was, I think he was including himself in that statement to some extent as well, bearing in mind that of the people present, only Ciel was aware that his father knew Undertaker.

Now as for the Weston College Arc, Undertaker was obviously trying to keep away from Sebastian and Ciel for as long as possible, I suspect so that they found out about Derrick at the ‘right’ moment (for him at least) and to ensure a fight didn’t break out in front of the entire school, which would guarantee he could get away quickly without anyone knowing where he was going. But moving back in time a bit, Undertaker was involved with Weston College sometime prior to the Campania debacle (as Rian Stoker was with him when he arrived) and been contacted by Edgar Redmond, no doubt via Viscount Druitt, so all of that probably has something to do with how he managed to take over as headmaster so quickly (after all, this arc takes places directly after the Book of the Atlantic). He had been forced to blow a cover he’d been keeping up for the last 50 years so he needed somewhere to go quickly. Also, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had worked out that Weston College would be where Ciel went next too and as we established when he allowed Ciel to keep the mourning lockets, Undertaker clearly doesn’t want to cut any mores ties with him than necessary.

Then there’s this;

I think what Undertaker really wants to do is bring back Vincent, if not Cloudia, but given that reanimation requires a near perfect corpse, neither of these options are especially viable. As for his reasons, he is clearly very attached to them, and if you ask me, his lack of care for personal space in any capacity says he’s lonely, so I suspect that’s part of it. However, I think there’s probably a more important reason than that, but I honestly don’t know what. I believe it will be tied in with his mysterious connection to the Phantomhive family, but as we don’t know about that either, its difficult to say.

Now this part;

has always confused me. What was Sebastian referring to? And the fact that Undertaker implied their strength is equal? He would have killed Sebastian back on the ship if it hadn’t picked that exact moment to sink. All very intriguing.

Then this whole double page spread;

which really only gives more questions than it answers.

But now! Onto the Green Witch Arc. The bit to focus on has to be the interaction between Diedrich and Undertaker, in which Undertaker makes one very important comment;

Humans. He specifically said humans, meaning Diedrich knew he was a reaper, so by extension so did Vincent and most likely Cloudia as well. I admit, I had forgotten that sentence, so this explains why Vincent trusted Undertaker with the twins (which I was going on about earlier). And I assume when he said this;

He was talking about bringing Vincent back. Even he couldn’t bring back someone without their body.

[silverselfshippingchaos]

[dorky-self-shipper] 🎫 here’s a gush pass :3 feel free to gush about whichever f/o you want, however much you want, then send this ask to 3 other selfshippers

Oh, my friend!!! Ahhh thank you so much for sending this in!! I have been a bit iffy because some things in my life have been piling up, but!!! I am so excited to dig into this!!! I really need a good gushing session haha!

Today's target for gushing hours with your girl Ash is none other than Yaag Rosch!

This ended up being pretty long, and is a mix of lore, screaming, keyboard smashes, his gorgeous design, and more screaming.

Saying that this man lives in my head rent free is an understatement. He is all I think about it. Honestly, I think it's funny considering Yaag's role in FF13. He's only around in the first game, and shows up in like five cutscenes.

Also. We get crumbs of him in the novels. More on that later. Back to the game.

All he does is "hey yall suck" "your lives don't matter" "uhh i need to kill you guys" "oh wait no i'm not evil" "*dies*"

But!!! He's very cool!! His character is so interesting to me. He's so driven to do whatever it takes, but beneath his actions, there's always an edge of hesitation. He seems like he comes off as so sure of himself, but... I'm not sure about that. Now, I can't say anything for sure because the writers hate him, I really liked those few moments where we get to see his actual thoughts.

For example, "Do you think we want to Purge our own people?!" And things like that where you see him question his orders. I feel like there's a lot of underlying hatred, distrust, and overall fear of the system.

Also, his development from "They aren't people, they're targets." to "I'll trust in your humanity." Gets me every single time.

Also don't get me started on his "if this is my punishment... i accept it." when he's bleeding line.

I am here to gush, not analyze. But both are happening anyway.

I feel as though he puts a lot of thought into what he says and how he acts, and I really do admire that.

For context, Lieutenant Colonel Yaag Rosch is this military higher-up guy. I remember seeing him for the first time and my jaw simply dropping. I know that these games have a history with hot villains. After all, I am an FF7 fan. I have seen the SOLDIERS, I have seen the Turks, I've seen Rufus. They're all hot.

There. I said it.

This intro scene gave us some damn good food. Like??? The silver hair??? The ponytail??? The scar on his forehead??? The overly dramatic speech about how the protagonists need to be eliminated??AJKLFNAWKJFNAWKLJFNWILEN.

(Also, I'm beginning to see the resemblance he has to Felix. I am a very predictable woman, aren't I?)

I am actually going to scream. He’s so handsome!!! His jaw!! His eyes are such a pretty color too!!! I wanna give him a kiss ahhh!! Especially on his forehead scar!!! He's so... woah.

Also, he has a really, really nice voice. Like??? WOW. I want this man to like. narrate my life. Here, lemme find some clips of him talking.

Here. Enjoy.

This one is a fan favorite as well.

It's not a Rick roll. I promise.

..... Unless?

Anyways, as time went on, I realized that he's actually such a deep and interesting character?? He gets done dirty by the writers and the game, but the potential he has makes me so excited!! There's so much material to work off of!!! Truly one of the more interesting villains the trilogy has to offer. Honestly, it's kind of difficult going through the second game knowing that he isn't there.

However, it's also difficult going through the second game because I??? Can't beat?? The goddamn boss fight??? I'm also playing on easy mode. I didn't struggle this much during the first game either. What the hell, Ash.

Back to the actual topic.

I'm gonna start off with his design before we delve into s/i lore and fun tidbits.

(His coat is so cool... Do you think he'd let me wear it? I'd probably waddle around in it because he's pretty tall and I. I am not.

He's around 6'2 (around almost 188 cm..? I think?), but take into account his boots too. Which means that normally he's slightly taller. That means that he's about a foot taller than me. That means that I'm pretty much the perfect height to bury my face in his chest. *screams*)

Talk about a kickass design. He's really cool to look at. Not only, uhm, *blushes*, but because of how cool his outfit is too! It does a really good job of portraying that "heyyy i'm super importtanntttt" energy that he has. He carries himself like he's the shit. And you know what? He is.

He's pretty professional. Minus the times he gets kinda pissed. The novels say, and I quote,

"They said he was the most straitlaced man in PSICOM - if you put serious and stubborn in a military uniform, you'd get Colonel Rosch."

And yeah. That basically sums it up.

Also, there's this scene where he gets all pissed and pulls out his sword and I'm over here like *insert debby ryan hair thing here*. I'm telling you, it's always the sword boys that get me. I'm sure you've noticed that by now. I don't know what it is but. It's a thing.

Oh!!! Oh!!! Speaking of the *tucks hair behind ear*, there's this one scene where he's chasing the protagonists. And he goes, "Clever, aren't you?"

*SCREAMS*

That scene is truly a masterpiece. Thank you for the good food, Squeenix. I remember having to take a moment to just pause and regather myself. Actually, I had to do that the first time I saw him too-

I wasn't alone at the time when he was introduced so I was just silently like "ohmygodhellosir ajrfnaklwenjklwenjklrn" but oh my GOODNESS.

My s/i works with him! She's pretty much his right hand woman. She always has reports and intel on all their missions ready to go! I find it cute how well they work together, be it for mission-related matters, or just when they're relaxing together.

Just like pretty much all of my other s/is, she's a raging academic and total nerd. In the first game, they basically live on this human paradise called Cocoon. It ends up not being so great because the gods want to murder humanity but anyways! Education is pretty much free and you can study whatever you're passionate about. That's why she has studied just so many things.

She's not exactly the type who aspired to join the military, but alas! Things happened. I like to think of it as a "heyyyy y'all needed my help once and then once turned to twice and twice to thrice and then i never left" type thing.

Oh, and then she fell in love with Yaag while she was there.

Her cheery attitude is a direct opposite to his, but they're also able to have some very serious conversations with each other. I love their dynamic so much! Also, he can get a bit softer when he's opening up to her and,,, Soft Yaag??? Hoo boy.

Her motives and beliefs tend to align a bit more with the Cavalry branch, but i feel as though she fits in better with PSICOM. Also, the book describes the soldiers to be a bunch of dumbass dorks and just the thought of her smiling and cracking jokes with all of Yaag's men make me super happy.

Oh and she gets a cool uniform too! Because I said so.

Now, they've known each other for years by the time the end of the first game rolls around. They're happy together, maybe even engaged! It can go one of two ways here. He either dies or he doesn't.

I like adhering really closely to canon with my ships (*laughs in genesis angst*) but I also think it would be a blast if he were to survive.

In the novels after his death, some recordings of his are found. It's basically him talking about how the government sucks from the inside. A character finds these and reveals them to the public to get rid of the old government and an invite a newer one that actually cares about the people. However, it's never quite stated how he got those recordings. And that's where Ash steps in.

She brings them to his attention and helps him out, but then returns to live with the rest of the remaining soldiers in that camp they set up in the second novel. They all look up to her as a leader-type, which I find is really funny because she doesn't exactly have the qualifications? She worked with PSICOM, but was never exactly a soldier. But hey, it's right after the world (quite literally) fell apart, I don't think that anybody cares about that.

Also, there's another chapter where Snow ends up visiting, and she has a friendly chat with him!!! She helped out the protagonists a little bit near the end of the first game, so they have a slight idea of who each other are, but that doesn't exactly change the fact that she fell under the category of villain for a lot of it, despite not actually being a bad person. I also think that their dynamic would be fun. Snow also just makes me really happy LMAO.

I think that this version of Ash is really fun just because of how much the experience hardens her? She spends a lot of time grieving. Also!!! Whether or not she makes a cameo in 13-2 (maybe near the ruins early game?) is totallllyyyy up to you hehe! I think it would be neat for her to talk to the protagonists of that game, especially since Yaag was the one who orchestrated the Purge and at the ruins, there's a huge monument of the names of people who were killed there.

Also, whether or not she has a son here is up to you. I like to think of all my ideas all happening in alternate timelines so everything I want can happen without stepping on other events? I imagine their child to have Yaag's pretty silver hair with Ash's brown eyes.

Also, 13-2 is about time travel so like. The protagonists meeting their child in the future when he's all grown up? Good stuff.

But hey, in the main timeline she's alone after Yaag's death. She helps the other characters. I also think that in time, she does work for the Academy? I mentioned that she's pretty nerdy earlier, so that definitely helps out. She's super cool!!! Such a badass!!!

Now, on the flipside of things, what if he survived? Then what happens? shameless self promo

Yaag still has those recordings, and they do still reach Captain Rygdea. They both live in the small village that the remnants of PSICOM created. It's a sweet life. Are fankids a thing in their future? Yeah, probably.

I feel like Yaag would be a really good dad. I headcanon that he has a very strong relationship with his own father as well. He's caring and stern, but also knows when to turn down the serious scale. The novels also say that he likes kids!?!?!? I know I've screamed about this point like 24892 times on my blog. But.

It's so cute??? Who would expect this super serious and mean man who quite literally says that the protagonists aren't people, they're targets to like children of all things???? It really is my favorite thing ever just because of how cute it is. I also have a few tiny cousins in my family, so him playing with them makes me very soft too.

("Would you please stop tugging on my hair- Ash, this is not a laughing matter!" "Oh, but it so is.")

I think that detail really helps hint at him having a more gentle side? And I adore that.

Also, I mentioned how Snow pays a visit to the PSICOM camp after the events of the first game? I think that would be very interesting with Yaag there because before Yaag dies in canon, Snow says, "Stay alive. We'll see you when it's over."

And now he finally gets to see him. The conversation would get surprisingly deep and definitely dive into Yaag's motives and real thoughts about his actions in the game. I really enjoy the few interactions those two have in the game.

Anyways, now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's dig into the meat and potatoes of this ship.

In 13-2, they get a separate dlc side story just to themselves. Because I said so. I'm not sure how the plot of this works, but it's basically them exploring Gran Pulse together. Maybe to map things out? Maybe to get better acquainted with the world they thought was a hell their whole lives? Maybe there's some sort of big mission they have to do? We'll figure it out.

Basically, it's a whole side story of them exploring and kicking monster ass together. The combat is regular 13 combat.

Yaag has his sword along with some explosives (we see him carry some grenades at the end when he blew himself up). And Ash also has a sword because I like swords.

In the game, usually only l'Cie, or magic god slaves, can use magic. However, after the fal'Cie (magic gods) go poof at the end of the end of the first game, some normal humans can use magic? It makes no sense and exists only for plot convenience, but I'm not complaining because it makes my plot easier too.

My point is, Ash can use magic! Because A) she's quirky mage material B) we need a balanced team C) Every single version of Ash so far has been a mage. D) I like magic a lot. Would be my go-to as well.

Also, if you're interested in how they work in battle, roles divide up very nicely between them.

Yaag has: -Commando (physical attacks) -Sentinel (beefy tanks) -Sabuteur (debuffing enemies)

Ash has: -Ravager (magic goes brrr) -Medic (i think you know) -Synergist (buffing allies) -Commando (physical attacks)

Maybe Yaag could get medic too to balance off the load in battle? They're a blast in combat because they really do compliment each other.

Anyways, back to the adventure.

It's the two of them traveling around. The main focus of it is their conversations as they travel. There's a lot of fun banter. Ya know how like when you're walking around in Naughty Dog games and your characters are just chatting? Yeah. That.

Their conversations are super random and they cover pretty much every single topic ever. They go from really serious to them just being stupid. I love their friendly banter.

Also, when they set up camp and are about to sleep, we get to see sleepy Yaag in action. And do you know what that means?

It means we get to see Yaag with his hair done a bit looser, maybe even down!!! Yaag with his hair down is all I want to see. It's what we deserve. It's what we need. The day that I see Yaag with his hair down is the day i achieve true happiness LMAO.

It's what we need.

Ash playing with his hair??? Yes, I most definitely think so.

Oh and there is totally a "Yaag, I'm cold." "Allow me to help remedy that. *pulls her closer*" type moment because they're cute like that.

All in all, their travels are really fun. Maybe somewhere around there they run into the protagonists? Either from the first game or the second game. I think that would be a fun mess.

I feel like Yaag can show a softer side of him around her and that makes me really happy. He deserves to be happy and I love him very much.

I think about him all the time, and just the thought of him holding me makes me so happy. He really is just adorable.

Before I wrap this up, I have a few more things I want to speak about! Firstly, allow me to share one of my favorite pictures of him because oh. my. god.

*screams*

The urge to backhug him!!! Ahh!!! He's so cute!!!! I just wanna hold him aelajflanef.

One of my favorite pre-relationship moments from them is this one time where Yaag is pretty down in the dumps, and Ash is talking to him about it and offering her advice. And as she talks, she gently places a hand over his (they're seated side by side btw). He looks up at her in shock, and she takes back her hand is like, "O-oh! I'm so sorry, I should've asked first, I just thought tha-"

And then he just snatches her hand back and gently holds it. You can see the tips of his ears burning red haha! I think that they're pretty cute ajfwnjklef

She always tries her best to take care of him, too! He needs a hug, and she is more than happy to provide. She always tries to remind him to eat his meals on time and such, even if she can be questionable at following her own advice at times. She can also be a bit of a tease sometimes, so he can get pretty annoyed (not really, he thinks it's cute) sometimes.

However, he also does his best to take care of her. Would he pull the "that's an order." card after she refuses to rest, pulling several late-nighters for work? Yeah. Probably. He's very caring, even if he can come off as very serious and scary sometimes.

To wrap things up, I love Yaag Rosch.

Thank you for your time.