#god every single time I see actual footage of him he get worse and worse

[cat-vase]

other thing similar to the bryce stuff that i think you may be interested in!

Owen was most likely interrogated by police about Liams disappearance since he was the last one to see Liam before he vanished (BOTH TIMES not counting bryce or the cashier+waiter in ep15), which means there’s the possibility of Owen being wrongly convicted… despite the fact that there may not be much evidence against him.

(same thing goes for Parker regarding Charlotte’s disappearance since he was AT HER HOUSE and had a reason to be mad at her, leading the police to believe he possibly murdered her over the money..?)

Someone pointed out to me once that it was likely Owen who REPORTED Liam missing in the first place! How else would the police know it was LIAM'S bike instead of... literally anyone else's? He probably got cleared of suspicion since there's likely outside security footage of Liam leaving the office alone (and Owen leaving alone, too!) Assumming this because... well. Everything has cameras everywhere nowadays.

But yeah!!! I'm sure he was questioned but since Liam literally disappeared into thin air, they couldn't find anything to convict him? Or anybody else, either? Or anything to use... to figure out where he was? Hence presuming him dead!!! Which sucks for Owen, especially if he finds out about the smokestack incident somehow (and that it happened BEFORE he saw Liam???), but what can you do!

But oh my god Parker. I have so many thoughts about Parker you have no idea. Not a lot of people talk about Charlotte I feel and even then, if they do they DON'T talk about Parker and that is a CRIME.

He saw her disappear in front of his eyes! Mid sentence! There was still dinner cooking in the kitchen and jazz playing on the TV! Wouldn't that send him into some sort of anxious spiral? Or psychotic break? Wouldn't he be unsure if she ever existed or not?

And his job is a brand associate! Wouldn't that make him in the public eye, at least somewhat? If he went crazy people would SEE and KNOW. He might be arrested on suspicion of murder? Or institutionalized? Or go off the grid? Maybe he starts to pay for her place and cover up her disappearance in order to try and investigate it! Maybe he searches every single forum he can online, stringing together other random disappearances of this nature whether or not they're actually connected! Maybe he takes something of hers to convince himself that yes, she WAS real! He can't tell anyone else in his friend group about this, of course. They'll think he did something to her, and he would never. He just wanted her to be okay. Is she okay, wherever she is? He hopes she's okay. He just wants her to come back. He's not mad about the money anymore. He's sorry he yelled. Please just come back. One day she has to, right? In the same manner she disappeared? He can't get rid of her place now, what if she came back and he wasn't there?

Maybe he posts incomprehensible ramblings on a website he makes in order to make sure he doesn't lose them, but also so he can stay anonymous. He goes on outings for days searching and never turns up any leads, of course. In the beginning his friends try to interact with him; they fear for his safety, he's so JUMPY, and he has an accident and falls in one of the caves they've been to a thousand times. He just gets more closed off after that. He becomes more and more like the person he's trying to find: No, he's FINE, he can find her on his OWN, he doesn't NEED help, he's perfectly fine and sane.

And maybe, if he's not locked up somewhere or done something to hurt himself, maybe he DOES see her come back someday. She's in a worse state than she left in.

But that's a whole different can of worms.

[kyberphilosopher]

Reverse Flash

A backwards version of your favorite speedster comes searching for Barry, only to find you instead. 

Word Count: 2403 Warnings: Crude Humor. Not proof read yet because I’m too tired. 

As per my latest fics, the gender of the reader is not specified. 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Barry was always nice to you.

Well, Barry was nice to everyone. I mean, his parents named him Barry. He was set up for a life of cheekiness before he was even born. But Barry was nice to you even after ‘the incident’. Barry was nice to you when everyone else stopped. On top of that, Barry was being nicer to you than usual lately.

Probably because he and Iris were having a rough spot.

That was the only annoying thing. Barry liked you, and he was interested in you, but you were still second place. He was just using you. He wouldn’t marry you, or feel a deep longing for you. He’d just take you on ice skating rink dates in the winter and give you the best Valentine’s day of your life every year. Which is everyone’s dream, you guess, but it wouldn’t have been genuine, no matter what Barry managed to convince himself.

Barry’s little support team seemed to be on the same page as you (which was a first), which both added to and subdued your aggravation. All of them were in agreement of the simple fact: you were no good for Barry. Mr. Flash was the only one who didn’t seem to get the memo.

In the very beginning, things weren’t like how they were now. Team Flash or whatever the name was considered you good colleague, and they trusted you because Allen trusted you. You had been friends with Barry longer than anyone else there. And of course you were smart, and you handled annoying journalists and incriminating footage like it was nothing. But then you’d suggested using lethal force to subdue one of the Flash’s biggest problems. That’s when the air changed. That’s when people decided you should not now, not ever go on a date with him. It would throw off the whole rhythm of the team, probably Barry’s morals and possible the timeline. Lucky you.

Though flat out rejecting Barry might make it worse. You had been irritable lately. Maybe a little more sarcastic than normal. What if you snap, and then the team snaps too? And sweet little Barry is too kind to tell you off? God, you knew you were the worst, but the thought alone seemed like more than just ‘the worst’. It was like a tornado of stinky shit just barreling toward you, somehow simultaneously faster than the speed of light and slower than a turtle filled with rocks for organs.

And it was all definitely Barry Allen’s fault.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

So, that’s why you’re here now. Stuck with watching Headquarters while all the speedsters go out and... speed. Who knows. You’re out of the loop with the whole... speed demon thing. You’re pretty sure they have a group chat without you. Fuckin’ nerds.

Your legs are stretched out to the desk in front of you. They cross over each other at the ankles, to the left of the big computer monitor that’s supposed to display the heartbeats of the team but is instead displaying something from cartoon network. A near empty bag of Chinese food sits at your side, it’s contents littered across the table.

As you chew, you look around the room. Several suits in display cases curve against the wall in a half circle, illuminated by blue light. Some are burgundy, some are silver, and some are golden. And you could smash every single one of them right now.

But you won’t, and you don’t. Not to say it isn’t tempting- it is. You still don’t touch the suits. 

God, what’s been wrong with you recently? Barry was your friend, and yet you’d been so annoyed with him. His flirting had only made it worse. Wally wasn’t any better. He got even more annoying once thinking about how childish, yet powerful he was. All the Kid Flash’s were just temporary brats that never stayed, whether you  liked them or not. And Iris wasn’t a fan of you. That was fine, because you weren’t exactly a friend of Iris’s either. So the most important part of your life that literally depended on superhuman existence and stopping crime was teetering because of pure social discomfort. Typical.

You’re watching the screen that serves as the closest light in the room as you shovel the next bite of rice between your lips. Neon colors make the shadows across your face feel alive and electric. It makes the glow in your eyes more prominent, encouraged by the childish nature of the media. You’ve just finished a snarky personal comment and given yourself another bite of rice when he appears to you.

He looks like Barry. The only difference is that he’s the complete opposite.

Instead of scarlet, his speed suit is yellow with red and dark grey accents. They remind you of blood lightning at the seams. Even under his half mask, he seems so familiar but so much more defined than your friend. As he exits the slice of colorful air and thunder, the heels of his shoes skidding across the floor, the red glow in his eyes settles into a calmer thrum.

And you’re still frozen in place, eyes wide as you still yourself mid chew.

The yellow speedster settles his orbs on you. They’re intelligent, and in the reflection of the little light in the room you can see they’re not red, but blue. And you? You’re just a deer in the headlights. 

“Aw, you’re not Barry,” he groans in disappointment, standing straighter as his arms cross over his chest. 

You finally continue your chewing, keeping your wide eyes on the intruder. Then you swallow it down. In your chest, your heart thump, thump, thumps with something. Fear? Not quite. Anxiety? Almost. It’s something else. Something more... intuitive. And the way this man looks at you makes you think that he can hear it, even from where he stands. That he knows.

“Uh... no?”

The man responds not a millisecond after you’ve gotten the words out. “Where is he? Where’s Barry Allen?”

Woof. His voice is throaty and laced with sarcasm, even though he’s clearly deathly serious. But the vibrations send a funny spasm straight to that little place between your legs, making the nerves in your spine dance with alertness. Arousal. Barry was never able to do that, let alone with just the sound of his voice.  

“Doing something?” you decide. “I don’t know.”

The golden man cocks his head to the side, almost smirks, and takes a step forward. “Hey, I know you.” His arms uncross. One raises and bends to point at you. “You’re Barry’s tech support. I remember reading about you in his museum.”

Your brows furrow. Hurriedly, you clear the take-out box from your lap and begin wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You drop your legs from their position on the desk to their normal position on the floor, knees bent. “Uh... I beg your pardon?”

“Yeah... Y/N L/N. Now I see it.” The man leans back on his heels and looks around the room. The red glow in his orbs burn away completely so it’s just him. “Ah, so this must be before you defected, huh? Interesting.”

“Pardon?!” you call again. Now you’re sitting forward, disbelief across your face. 

Golden speedster smiles. It looks evilly distorted, even though it’s just a normal smile. It curves his face sarcastically. His hands fly upwards as if in surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger, Y/N. You know actually, you’re kind of a villain in my time. This is nice for me.”

“Great, I’ll tell Barry when I see him,” you bite.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Now how about you tell me where Barry is before I erase you from existence.”

“I don’t know,” you repeat as the quick bolt of fear fizzles from your system. Your eyes trail down to his chest for just a quick second, but it’s quick enough to observe yet another difference between your familiar scarlet speedster and him. The circle surrounding the lightning bolt on his chest is facing the opposite direction, red, and that circle is filled with black. It’s as if he were the complete opposite of Barry. A reverse Barry. 

“Yeah you do. Come on.”

You blink once, still in your roll-y chair. 

You’re not sure what to do here. On one hand, this guy radiates pure evil. You should really alert Barry or one of the other members of Team Flash. But for one reason or another you’ve made no attempt to. You’ve got no clue who this dude is other than the fact that he seems more inclined to rip the fabric of time apart than anyone else. There’s no doubt in your mind he really will erase you from existence if you make one wrong move. But what’s the wrong move?

On the other hand, Team Flash has been a bunch of dickhead’s to you. Barry has been ironically slow to the whole thing. Would it be so bad if you did make a wrong move? Not for you, but for your friends? They’d all die, wouldn’t they? This yellow one would end them, and then what? Would it really be so horrible for you? You can’t imagine mourning much.

“I don’t,” you say again, slowly. “They’re in the city. I don’t know where.”

The man seems to think for a moment, cocking his head back so the light behind the glass cases catches his sharpened features. “Hmm.”

Without even blinking, now he’s in front of you. So close, you can smell him. It’s not terribly strong, it’s just masculine. But it’s also flowery, with a dash of sweat from running. And then there’s something more. Something... metallic? 

Both his hands clutch the arms of the chair beside you, trapping you as you lean back reflexively. “Did you know that I killed Barry’s childhood best friend before he was born?” the man says lowly. 

On instinct, you prepare yourself to say, ‘Barry doesn’t have a childhood best friend’. Then you realize why. 

He continues. “Would you tell me where Barry was if you did know?”

You don’t even think about it. You’re true to your nature. “I don’t know, would I?”

Blip! You wait to burst into a cloud of nothingness. To never have been born or even get to be a ghost. But fifteen seconds later you’re still alive. And from the way Barry talks about being a Flash, fifteen seconds is a long time for someone of that caliber. 

The man is back by the cases of suits now. You can see his muscles through his suit. They’re more defined than Barry’s, thank God. 

“I think you would. But it’s gonna be hard to do that when you’ve got my fingers vibrating into your skull.”

“What?”

“It’s going to be hard to speak when my fingers are inside you.”

You cup a hand against your ear. “Huh?”

“I said-” The man stops. His eyes narrow, arms crossing over his chest once more. “Oh, I see.” A short, dry- but genuine- laugh falls from his throat. “Very funny. Very, very funny.”

Suddenly, your eyebrows crease together in confusion. You place both palms on the arms of the chair for leverage as you push yourself into a stand, as if stirred by some great, important purpose. “Wait. Did you say you were going to stick your fingers inside me?”

“I knew you and I were the same,” he drawls. He sounds entertained. As if in his eyes, missing Barry and meeting you instead was the best outcome he could’ve hoped for. 

“Can’t you just...” Your shoulders slump as you glance around. “Just kill Barry and get on with it?”

“Aw, no. This is far more interesting.”

“Fingers in my skull...?” you whisper, half to yourself. Then you look up to him with a snap. “You are so weird,” you tell Reverse Barry, emphasizing it with a low point. “So weird.”

“Want me to tell your future?” 

Again with the voice and the nerves in that special place. 

“I gotta say, it’s kind of disturbing,” the man smirks. “You’ll love it.”

“Weird.”

Across the base, just two hallways away, something clicks. It’s a familiar click. It’s the click of the door opening. 

Quickly, you glance backwards, then lean down to pause the show on the computer. You hadn’t even realized it was still going. Once that’s done, the man is still standing in front of you. That sinister and yet innocent grin is still dancing across his face, though his steely eyes are totally locked on you. 

“What, weirdo? You know where he is now. Aren’t you gonna go get him?”

“You want me to so badly, don’t you?” Reverse Barry whispers. You just give him a look. 

“I’ll be back for you.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

And then the speedster is gone. Right on time, too, cause Barry jogs into the room not a second later. 

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” you turn around. 

“Did I just... see someone here?” Barry points towards your end of the room in his scarlet suit. Huh. Reverse Barry was taller too. 

“What are you on about?” you throw casually. “Nobody’s been here but me since you left.”

“Are you sure?” the Flash keeps pushing. You hate it. Pushing. 

“Yes, Barry,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure. Oh, by the way, Barry. Did you have a childhood best friend?”

Barry frowns. “No, why?”

You smile to yourself as you turn back away from him. The other speedster’s footsteps are coming closer and closer. You can hear them echo off the walls. 

“No reason,” you answer with a smirk just as one of them enters the room, probably to give you crap again.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Fun fact, Reverse Flash is actually my favorite villain in DC comics. Bro is vicious in the comics. I just hate all the live action versions of him we get. Lego DC Villains Reverse Flash and Injustice 2 are the best versions. Injustice 2 is my personal preference. I’d like to do more with this but, who knows. Depends how this is received. #lol

[imagine-loki]

What bout Trust, Chapter 15

TITLE: What About Trust CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 15 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki owns a bookshop on Midgard. He had to do something there to try and avoid getting any attention. But he’s not fond of having customers, is rather grumpy and guarded. But then he meets a bright, bubbly and trusting young woman who doesn’t recognise him. To his dismay, he finds himself becoming rather fond of the mortal.  RATING: M

  So many thoughts ran through Cleo’s mind after discovering the truth about Loki.

She had spent most of the evening looking through footage of him from when he had tried to take over Earth. And she’d watched the video of him saving everyone at the park lots too. She couldn’t believe she had never recognised him in the first place. And suddenly a lot of things made a bit more sense.

Her friend, Ethan, was over and trying to console her.

She was so angry, upset, disappointed. Everything moulded into one.

‘He certainly seems like he’s not a villain anymore, but can anyone truly change quite like that?’ Ethan muttered.

‘It’s not… It’s not about what he did in the past. It’s the fact he lied to me. He didn’t tell me who he really was.’ She sighed and tried not to get choked up for the millionth time.

‘I’ve never seen you so upset before, Cleo. I know you love him, why not go speak to him and see what he has to say? Think about it, if you were in his position and did what he did… and you were wanting a new start, maybe you’d lie about your name, too?’

Cleo put her elbows on the table and her head in her hands with a sigh. She couldn’t help it, she started crying again. Her emotions were all over the place.

Ethan moved over and hugged her. ‘Hey, it’s ok. It’s going to be ok.’ He soothed her and rubbed her back softly.

-

Thor had nipped out to get some food in for himself and Loki. Well, himself mainly since Loki said he didn’t feel like eating.

‘Loki, there’s someone who was outside that wants to speak to you.’ Thor said and stepped to the side when he entered Loki’s place.

Loki frowned, it was Ethan. Loki had met him once or twice before at some of their friends’ gigs with Cleo.

‘Look, I don’t know what exactly you’ve told Cleo about yourself. How much of it has been true, what hasn’t. But right now, you need to go and speak to her. Go clear things up. She at least deserves an explanation.’ Ethan said to Loki.

‘She’s scared of me. She won’t want anything to do with me.’ Loki said sadly and turned away from him.

Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Look, I know you’re a God and a Prince. But for the past few months, you’ve just been ordinary Luke to me. So I’m going to carry on seeing you that way. Now you get your ass over to Cleo’s and you damn well give her an explanation as to why you’ve lied to her. Or you will lose her, for good. And she is NOT scared of you, far from it. She’s pissed off and so upset, rightfully so.’ Ethan snapped at him.

Loki was irked at first, how dare a mortal tell him off like that. But when Loki turned around to glare at Ethan, his face softened. He realised he was right.

He ran a hand down his face and sighed. ‘You think talking to her will help?’

‘Well it won’t make anything worse! She deserves a proper explanation. I know she wanted to be left alone, but she’s had time now. Go and explain to her.’ Ethan said firmly and pointed at the door.

Loki narrowed his eyes at him as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.

Ethan felt proud that he had managed to tell Loki off like that. But when Loki left, he let out a big sigh of relief. Thor chuckled at the mortal who was shaking slightly as he leaned against the back of the sofa for support.

‘Geez, that was scary.’ Ethan said as he put his hand over his chest.

‘You did well.’ Thor laughed and went over to pat him on the shoulder. ‘Sometimes that is what Loki needs. I just hope they can talk it out, I have never seen my brother so broken and upset before. He really loves and cares for her, he was just scared she would turn him away for who he was. For what he did.’

Ethan nodded. ‘I understand. But Cleo is the last person on Earth to judge someone in that way. Hell, I remember when the New York incident happened, one of our friends was mouthing off about what an asshole Loki was. Cleo piped up that there is always two sides to a story, and everyone deserves a second chance. That the Avengers aren’t all that good either… No offence.’

Thor smiled softly. ‘None taken. I know what she means, we all have our darker sides. I certainly hope she still thinks the same way.’

-

Loki teleported instantly to Cleo’s home, he was about just walk inside but thought better of it. He knocked on the door cautiously, his heart was hammering against his chest as he waited. But he was relieved when she finally answered.

But his heart shattered into millions of pieces when he saw her. The usual sparkle and brightness was gone from her eyes, in just five hours he had managed to tear her up so badly. He had never felt so guilty and broken in his entire life.

‘Cleo… I’m so, so sorry.’ He began, a tear fell down his face as he was unable to stop himself. ‘Please, can I come in and talk?’ He begged, she could hear the desperation in his voice.

Cleo closed her eyes for a moment, to try and stop herself from crying. She nodded and stepped to the side, letting him in. Saying nothing yet.

Loki walked into her home and he went to the living room. He wasn’t sure whether to sit down or stay standing, but he opted to stand. As Cleo stayed standing with her arms around herself.

He took in a deep breath. ‘I know that what I did in New York and Germany was awful, I regret it every single day. It’s not something I am proud of, at all. But I would never hurt you, I would never’

‘Luke… I mean, Loki… I… I know you wouldn’t hurt me. It’s not what you did before that’s upsetting me. Or who you really are. It’s that you lied to me. You didn’t tell me the truth.’

‘I… I couldn’t. When I first met you, I went to my usual lie that my name is Luke. I’ve used that for a long time, since I decided to start a life here. I hoped for a quiet life, where I could just be in peace, without any hassle from SHIELD or people who knew what I did and wanted me dead. But then, I started to fall in love with you. I have never felt the way I do about you before, Cleo.’ Loki sat down now and clasped his hands together on front of him, trying to keep it together.

Cleo sat down too on the opposite sofa.

‘I wanted to tell you… I so badly wanted to. But every time I bottled it. I’m a coward, and I hate myself for it. I was scared and worried that I would ruin what we had… But I knew I had to tell you, I was going to, but then the tree fell and’

‘How am I supposed to believe you now? I want to, Loki, I really do. But I’m struggling. Everything I thought I knew about you, is a lie.’ Cleo interrupted.

‘No, no... Everything I’ve told you about myself, is true. Just minus where I come from and my name.’

‘And that Thor is your brother!’ Cleo yelled at him. ‘That you’re a God. A Prince. And your parents?’

‘I said my brother was an idiot and annoying, that’s not a lie. And my parents are deceased, and I was adopted. It’s just a little bit more complicated than I told you.’

Cleo shook her head and tears started running down her face again. ‘I just wish you’d told me sooner. What hurts the most, is that you felt you couldn’t tell me the truth sooner. After our first date, or even after we first slept together would’ve been better. But you didn’t, for so long.’

‘I know, and I was a fool. I am a fool. But I was scared, Cleo. So scared of losing you, the only person in my life that has ever mattered to me so much. I love you, Cleo. So, so much. I didn’t want to lose… I don’t want to lose you.’ Loki cried.

‘I don’t want that either… And I do love you, too. But I just, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner. I don’t know what to do, Loki. I do understand why you didn’t want me to know initially, but keeping it for so long is what is hurting me the most.’

Loki momentarily put his head in his hands before looking back up at her. ‘The last thing I wanted to do was to hurt you, darling. Please believe me. I was scared and selfish, I can’t take that back. As much as I want to. I’ve hurt you, I know. I want to make it right, to earn your love again.’

‘What about trust, Loki?’

He felt his stomach dropping.

‘Please, Cleo. Give me one more chance, I promise you there will be no more lies. Ever. And you can trust me, always.’ He pleaded.

‘I… I don’t know if I can. I do love you, I do. But I, I don’t know if I can trust you again. Love is nothing without it. And I feel like I trusted you completely, with anything and everything.’

‘Don’t say that, Cleo. Please, I’m begging you to just let me try again. Let me work on gaining your trust again. Please.’ Loki actually got onto his knees on front of her and begged her with his hands clasped on front of him.

Cleo’s eyes widened at the sight of him doing so. She saw what he did years ago in Germany… Had everyone kneel for him. She knew that kneeling for a human was not something he would do lightly.

But it still didn’t make it any easier.

‘I… I’m going to need time, Loki. Please.’ She whispered, wiping her eyes and looking to the side.

Loki nodded and slowly got up to his feet. ‘I understand. Take as much time as you need… But I do truly love you, Cleo. You’re my world.’

Cleo looked down at her hands in her lap, unable to stop crying as Loki reluctantly left her home.

When Loki left, he went down the nearest alleyway and he screamed, cried, hit the wall. He couldn’t believe what he did to her. To his Cleo.

He wished he could turn back time and start over, to tell her the truth from the start.

He couldn’t cope with the thought of not having her in his life.  

[folkloreguk]

❥ My Sweet Evil Heart (C.Chanhee)

A/N: I wrote this as part of an angel/demon collab for The Boyz! You can find the masterlist HERE. This was really fun to write and I got to live out my alternate universe dream in which I'm a detective...I hope you like it, I'm always welcome to any form of feedback!

genre: demon!Chanhee, detective!reader, angst, fluff, reader is constantly sleep deprived, Chanhee is the sweetest demon ever

synopsis: You, a highly respected detective in your department, are investigating a case of a very strange demon who seems hesitant to do evil...but can you trust someone who is supposed to be the personification of wickedness?

words: ~ 10.6k

Have you ever met someone deeply unhappy? Someone who seems to, at all times, be fighting a war inside of themselves? Have you ever felt empathy for somebody, even though they tested you, over and over, as if the worst part inside of them was trying to make them lose you on purpose? Did you hold on and never stop believing in them? Or did you say something to drive them away, making them think they would only hurt you in the process of you trying to make them see clearer?

This is the story of a demon, whose every cell demurred at his evil nature. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves and start with the basics.

Being one of the head detectives at the local police station was not an easy-going, nor an amusing job. Whilst working on serious cases, lacking proper sleep was not an uncommon occurrence for you, and in some instances, self-care came up short until the mystery had been solved and the guilty ones were locked away. Every case pulled you in and swallowed you whole, keeping you deeply invested for days and nights until your brain felt like it had turned to mush and your body worked on autopilot, until you functioned a little like a highly intelligent zombie. And yet, you couldn’t imagine yourself doing anything else in your life. The thrill was close to an obsession, and seeing justice being served thanks to your work was more addicting than any drug could ever be to you.

Most crimes in your world were committed by demons, of course. They were your worst enemies, the monsters you saw in your nightmares and the reason you never strolled down a street without a gun by your hip. It wasn’t forbidden for them to walk the earth, so long as they kept to themselves. Their evil nature made it almost impossible for them to uphold these terms, though. You wished you could lock them all away in some putrid prison cell, or better yet, send them back to where they crawled out from originally. But the law couldn’t convict beings before they had done anything wrong. So, it was on you to make sure you kept an eye on the sinister beings, figure out what they were up to and stop them before they could actually hurt somebody. Like that morning, when you were called to a liquor store to investigate a break-in.

“My name is Y/F/N Y/L/N, I am the lead investigator,” you greeted the store owner with a handshake upon arrival. “Can you tell me exactly what happened?”

“I came here this morning at around 7 to open up the store. When I got out of my car, I saw the broken glass of the window,” he explained.

“What was taken from inside the store?” you inquired further.

“That’s the weird thing. Nothing is missing from inside,” he said.

“We might just be dealing with vandalism,” you thought out loud. “Do you have security cameras?”

He did, and so you went along with him to the back of the store. It was true, the interior of the shop seemed completely untouched. You suspected whoever had done this had never even intentioned on entering. There was a college campus not too far from the store, and you recalled countless times you had witnessed careless vandalism done by some intoxicated students during a Friday night. It was a very human-like crime. Demons weren’t known to do things by halves. Their crimes were usually the go-big-or-go-home-type of crimes. But then, when you watched the security footage, you were stunned.

At precisely 3:29 am, a dark figure appeared in front of the window. They lifted their arms, swinging a baseball bat against the glass. And against your speculation, they did climb through the hole in the window. With no mask or disguise whatsoever, the demon man looked right into the camera in the corner of the room. The abyss of darkness in his pitch black eyes was unmistakable. He looked around, as if he was debating on whether he should have done more, but then, to your utter confusion, spun around on his heel and climbed right back out the window.

You assured the store owner you would be looking into this case. With nothing left to do, you headed back to the police station. You had taken the security footage with you, and the moment you arrived in your office, you played it on your computer screen. Over and over - only puzzling you more, with each rerun you saw. You worried this might only be a warning. Not seldom had you been a witness to demons playing with their prey, feeding off the fear of innocent souls. Was this one indulging in one of those little twisted games? Right away, you uploaded the demon’s face onto the database for criminals, even if vandalism didn’t compare to the serious allegations that stood against other faces on that list. While you turned your attention to other cases, his features wouldn’t leave your mind. Even when you left your office at night, he was still the most prominent person in your memory.

By the time you began your walk to your home, the sun had disappeared. You couldn’t help it, even if technically you could finish work earlier, your desire to solve your assigned cases was always higher. Had you just walked home at 5 pm, you were sure to end up on your computer at home, researching and digging around on the web to discover possible clues. This way, at least you had all resources you would need at your office at the police station.

Now, in the dark, the streets were rather abandoned, most shops had already closed, and the moon dimly cast light through the clouds. Those conditions were what made it a breeze for you to notice your shadow. The figure had been following you for 5 minutes now. Judging by how carelessly loud their steps sounded and by their not-so subtle choices of hiding spots, you could tell this wasn’t something they had practice in. Purposely, you didn’t turn around, so they wouldn’t realize you had caught on to them a while ago. Instead, only a minute or so from your home, you took a turn left into an abandoned alleyway. Your hand was on the gun in your belt.

Just as you had stepped into the alley, you turned. He was right behind you. With dark orbs glaring and teeth snarling he came at you, knife in hand. Your eyes widened – you recalled his face vividly – as you took in the situation in the blink of an eye. After all, you had watched the security tape of him breaking into the liquor store countless times only hours ago. But you had the upper hand from the very moment you had spun around. His build wasn’t particularly strong, but you knew you should never underestimate demons. You grabbed his shoulders and along with him, your body crashed against the red brick wall to your left. He struggled against your grip, but his determined and feisty expression was the by far the most intimidating part about him. His face was inches from yours but looking into the sort of darkness that were demon’s eyes did nothing to you. Your hand was around his wrist with the knife – which he was aggressively trying to bring down on you – but only at first.

Because suddenly, something uncommon occurred. So uncommon, in fact, that not a single cell in your body could believe it. He willingly dropped the blade. It hit the asphalt, the metallic sound echoing in your ears. He relaxed his arm in your iron grip. Demons never gave up. They fought until you had forcefully brought them to the ground or done worse to them. Their ironic god-complex and evilness didn’t allow them to step away from a fight – until this one had come along, apparently. And then, as if his behavior hadn’t already stunned you enough, he did the unthinkable.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Without a doubt you thought you had misheard him. Swiftly, you pulled your gun out of your belt and pointed it at his face. One thing you knew. You weren’t going to play along in his little games. In panic, he rose his hands, showing defeat.

“Quit playing games, devil’s son,” you hissed. “What is it you’re trying to achieve here? You’re sorry? For what?”

He was hesitant. With every second, your curiosity only grew. Either, he was a skilled actor or…you had no idea what else it could’ve been about him.

“I almost killed you. That’s what I’m sorry for,” he said. “Does that get me a prison sentence?”

Your eye twitched because this didn’t seem right at all.

“You broke into a shop and attacked me, but then stopped out of your free will,” you assessed the situation. “You’ll most likely get away with a fine and your name in our register.”

If you had been awaiting an evil grin or any sort of enjoyment in his face, you’d be waiting endlessly. If anything, he seemed to be…disappointed?

“But you’re a cop, right?” he said. “You can lock me up, can’t you?”

“Didn’t you hear what I said? You won’t be locked up if you don’t commit a crime severe enough. As much as I hate it, considering you demons are running free, it’s the law,” you said.

“You don’t get it,” he said. And he was right, you really had no idea. “I should be locked up. You need to get me to jail before I hurt somebody.”

His face was dead serious, but you didn’t want to believe a single word. How could you, when your daily life consisted of hunting down his kind, because all they brought upon the earth was chaos and death?

“Give me one good reason why I should believe you,” you said, unimpressed.

“I will tell you anything you want to hear,” he said. “If you bring me to a police station. You guys have these lie detectors, don’t you? I will take a test if that’s what it takes for you to believe me.”

~

So, that was how half an hour later you still hadn’t returned at home, but rather found yourself back at the police station. Almost everyone had gone home by now, so you took the liberty to choose the biggest interrogation room available. A few minutes and he was sitting in front of you, hands in handcuffs and his body connected to the lie detector.

“Okay, here’s how this works. I’ll start by asking some simple questions, and then we’ll get to the bottom of whatever your intentions are,” you explained.

“Alright. Go ahead,” he said. This was your first time seeing a demon take this sort of test. Usually, you couldn’t be bothered because you knew all they did was lie whilst smiling you in the face.

“What’s your name?”

“Choi Chanhee.”

“Where were you born?”

“In hell.”

“Did you break into a liquor store last night?”

“Yes.”

“Did you intend on killing me tonight?”

“…Yes.”

“Is that your definite answer?”

“…No.”

“How come both of your last two answers are lies?” you asked. “You didn’t intend on killing me, but yes is your definite answer?”

“I can’t stop the evil in me but I’m trying,” he said. You were stunned. The answer was the most truthful of them all.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I was never like the others since I came to earth. I’ve never felt a rush like they do, causing mischief and hurting humans. I don’t belong. It’s as if there was a demon inside of me, but it’s not controlling all of me, do you understand?” he said.

“I’m not sure, but go on,” you said.

“I don’t want to hurt anybody or destroy things. But on some days, I’m walking down the street and my body starts following the devil’s orders instead. I usually snap out of it quickly and stop myself. That’s why you’re still alive,” he explained.

“You’re telling me you’re some sort of good demon?” you asked. “Why don’t you go back to hell, if you’re struggling so much on earth?”

“I hate it there,” he said. “And either way, I’m banned from there forever.”

Your head raised as you stared at him.

“Banned?” you asked.

“I stopped a bunch of demons from killing a woman once,” he said. “Safe to say they weren’t happy to hear that, back at home. I couldn’t go back, even if I wanted to.”

“Can you tell me the name of the woman?” you asked. And he did. All this time, he really had been telling the truth. When you searched up the woman’s name in the computer, it only confirmed your suspicion. She really had been under attack when an unidentified person had interrupted and saved her life.

“I can tell you names of demons,” he said. “If you do me the favor of locking me up, I can sell out everyone I know about.”

You massaged the sides of your head and sighed. This guy really was one of a kind.

“I already told you, I can’t put you in jail for something you didn’t do,” you said. “That’s against the law, and then it’ll be me who ends up behind bars instead of you. I’ll have to let you go.”

“What if I mess up?” he said. The amounts of firsts you were experiencing in the timespan of an hour were giving you a headache. Never had you felt compassion for a demon before. But you were only human, and when you noticed the genuine concern and insecurity in his soft voice, you couldn’t stop yourself.

“How long have you been on earth for?” you asked.

“I don’t know, a few years, I guess?” he said.

“And in those few years, which of your deeds would you rate the most criminal out of all?” you asked. Any other demon would have been able to give you multiple answers, one more vicious than the other. He, on the other hand, took his time and even when he answered, he didn’t sound at all sure.

“I’ve broken into a house before, destroyed a car window and one time I stole a dog,” he confessed with his head tilted towards the floor.

“What happened to the dog?”

“I…gave it back,” he said. A laughter erupted from your throat against your will. In a friendly manner, you pat his shoulder before retrieving the keys to his handcuffs.

“Trust me, you’ll be just fine out there,” you said. “Whatever it is you’re doing to stop yourself from being evil, it’s working. I will let you go now."

Even though he wasn’t happy with your answer, he knew he had no choice but to comply. As you walked him through the hallways towards the exit of the station, you could only think of one thing: your beloved bed. Not only your body but especially your brain was drained from energy. You desperately needed a refill by getting a good night’s sleep.

“You’re the first person who’s been really kind to me,” he said, as you held the door open for him. The night air was cool, and you quickly zipped up your jacket to your chin.

“You gave me no reason not to be,” you replied.

“I almost stabbed you,” he said, bluntly.

“Almost.”

“For most people, me being a demon is reason enough to loathe me.”

“Well I guess I’m not most people,” you said. His smile was gentle, but his black eyes would always give him away. “I’ll be here at the station every day, if you have any concerns or need somebody to consult. But right now, all I want is my bed.”

“I understand,” he replied. “Thank you. Goodbye.”

“Good night,” you said, before you parted ways. Once more, you journeyed home. He remained on your mind until the moment you slipped off to dreamland that night.

~

The days passed without a trace of him. You followed your routine, but one thing you couldn’t help. You simply had to tell every person who worked with you about the changed demon you had met. No one really wanted to believe you. It was kind of understandable. Some thought you were testing their skills, seeing if they could figure out you were lying. Others went as far as to suspect your lack of sleep had given you hallucinations. But you didn’t let it go. And after all, you were a highly respected member of the police force. Some said they wanted to meet this demon gentleman, as they had renamed him.

But then you were called to a brand new homicide investigation and all of the jokes at the station were blown away by the intensity and buzz the case brought with it. You had a murder to solve. There was no place for sweet demon men in any part of your brain. Not for now. And as always, you slipped into old habits – staying up all night, living on coffee and quick meals – the toxic behavior was almost inescapable. Your fellow detectives tried their best to keep you healthy and most importantly, sane. They took you with them to get salad for lunch, invited you over for game nights (a futile attempt at giving you a break) and told you to go to sleep on time. After all, they needed your brain to function at full capacity for the case. You knew people were relying on your knowledge, and you weren’t doubting your capabilities. But a highly intelligent zombie was still a zombie. And so it happened that one Thursday night your boss sent you home. Not because you weren’t doing a good job – rather for of the opposite reason.

“You are allowed back at the station when you’ve caught a full night’s sleep. Do what it takes to take care of yourself,” your boss had said. Her tone displayed as much strictness as her eyes showed concern. Truth be told, you were too exhausted to even argue against her order. That’s when you knew. You really needed a rest. You dragged your body home.

“Hello sweetheart,” you greeted your pet bird, who chirped excitedly when you set foot into your apartment. “Guess what. I’m home early.”

As much as you wanted to drop into a slumber right away, your stomach growled. And you weren’t in the mood to wake up half-starved. As you prepared some left-overs from the fridge, you heard your bird call from the living room. “Peek-a-boo!” he sang. It caught your attention. He only played this game with you – when you were outside in your small garden and he was watching you through the window. So who exactly was he talking to, now?

You picked up a knife, because as a detective it was practically your job to be paranoid, and tiptoed into the living room. It would be harder for an intruder to spot you in the dark, so you pushed the light switch. Slowly, you advanced to the window and gently pulled the curtains aside. A shiver ran down your spine when you saw the figure standing between the trees. They didn’t seem to be hiding, if anything they were lazily resting their back against the garden fence. Maybe they weren’t aware you were watching them. Bold of them to assume they could intimidate you by acting so nonchalant. You cracked the window open slightly.

“If you don’t leave my property within the next ten seconds, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing,” you announced. The figure flinched. The moment he stepped into the moonlight and raised his arms, you remembered his face.

“Choi Chanhee?” You opened the terrasse door and stepped outside.

“Are you going to hurt me?” he asked, eyes glued to the knife in your hands. Quickly, you lowered your hand.

“What are you doing here?” you asked instead of answering his question.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he admitted.

“And so you thought creeping around in a police woman’s backyard was an appropriate thing to do? Wait…have you been stalking me?” you asked. You should have cut back on the sharp tone, but you felt half-asleep and this was the last thing you needed. Plus, the immanent realization hit you, that you had not noticed him at all. You had been so caught up in your work that you had not recognized a demon lingering around your home address, watching you. It hurt your pride a little – and could have ended very differently, had it been a more malovent demon than the one standing in front of you. This one looked terrified, kneading his hands nervously.

“I thought you wouldn’t be upset with me…that maybe you would understand. Because you’ve been the only one who’s listened to me. I’m just trying to find a purpose,” he said, “And my head tells me you’re the right direction.”

Demons. They’ve always had a fondness for the dramatic. But his words tore at your heart strings. His behavior resembled a child who had done wrong and was in the process of being scolded.

“Do you have no home?” you asked, softening your voice.

“I’ve lived with other demons. But they don’t want me there, anymore,” he said. For obvious reasons, you thought. Your head was racing. There was no way you could leave him standing there in the cold. But letting a demon into your home sounded like you must have had a death wish. It’s not like you didn’t have enough space, though. With an extra guest bedroom that nobody had ever used before, he would be just fine. There was no excuse. You cursed your parents for making you get a bigger apartment “In case you got married and had children soon.” You never know what could happen, they had said. And how wrong they had been, but how right they had been on that last part.

“Would you say you’re a tidy person?” you asked. A gigantic yawn came over you, and once again your stomach grumbled.

“What? I mean…I think so?” he said.

“Are you hungry?” You were in disbelief. Maybe it was the zombie in you that had a heart so soft, it took pity on a demon.

“I’m starving,” he said.

And that was how you came to have dinner with a demon. Spoiler alert: It wouldn’t be the last time. You ate quietly, trying hard to fight tiredness but it was no use. Afterwards, you showed him the room he could stay in.

“How do I make this up to you?” he asked.

“We’ll think about that another time, alright?” you said, “I need to sleep now. I’ve got an unsolved murder case waiting on me tomorrow.”

That night, you locked your bedroom door and slept with your gun on your nightstand. Just in case. Even though you were almost fully convinced the demon in the bedroom across the hall was more harmless than a five-year-old, he was still a demon.

~

When you woke up and saw your boss’ message on your phone, you couldn’t believe it. She wanted you to stay at home for the day. Apparently, you needed the rest and she had no interest in getting into trouble for overworking you (which she obviously wasn’t, you were the one doing this to yourself). When you walked down the stairs, you had almost forgotten about the previous night. It felt a little like it had all just been one wild fever dream – that was, until you spotted the demon sitting on your sofa, your pet bird on his shoulder.

“I let him out, I hope that was okay,” he said. You were dumbfounded. “Listen, I just wanted to say…thank you. Tell me whatever you need me to do and I’ll get it done for you.”

You wanted to go to work. But you knew he would be no help making that possible. Your mind was already wandering off to your case, the tips of your fingers burning with anticipation to search the internet for clues. Your grumbling belly interrupted your eagerness.

“Um…you could go to the grocery store for me?” you asked.

~

You went back to work the next day. Unsure of what to do, you decided to keep your demon housemate a secret for now. The other detectives would have probably written you off as insane, and you needed them to take you seriously. To be fair, maybe you were a little crazy. But he had been really good on the first day. Only one incident, which involved him dropping an egg on the kitchen floor, stood out to you. Of course, that could happen to anyone. But any other person would not have apologized in the way that he did. Normal people wouldn’t have acted so guilty, had it been an accident. But as long as his malice remained to that extent, you could live with it. You almost laughed at the idea of him purposely watching the egg roll off the counter and not doing anything.

He sure was strange. But little did you know, his egg-dropping shananigans were only the beginning of his uncontrollable little pranks he would pull on you.

Once he let your bird fly out the window. When you came home you discovered him outside, talking to your bird, begging him to come back inside. Little did he know, all it took was a whistle and a few treats and you had him sitting on your shoulder, ready to go back inside. One night you returned home to find him staring at the ceiling in the dining room, a kitchen towel in his hand. When you asked him what he was trying to achieve there, he told you there was a mosquito sitting above him.

“So, why don’t you kill it?” you asked. He looked shocked.

“Kill it?” he asked, “We should probably just shoo it outside.”

That’s when you knew. Choi Chanhee wouldn’t hurt a fly. Literally. All those times you had worried about leaving him home alone with your bird vanished in an instant as you laughed.

“You’re right. Killing is one of the worst sins. But sometimes, especially when it comes to mosquitoes, you don’t need to worry about any consequences. If anything, I’ll be grateful,” you assured him.

Another instance made you think maybe you had been too quick to judge him as harmless. When you walked into your bathroom in the morning, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you almost jumped out of your skin. A red substance stuck to your mirror in what seemed to be random shapes. On impulse, you called his name. On second look, you realized what he had done. The red was merely ketchup, and the random shapes weren’t so random, but they spelled “meeting at 2 pm”. When Chanhee appeared in the doorframe, he already wore his sorry expression.

“What did you think you were doing here?” you said. “You know where the post-it notes are!”

“I- He- The demon in me wanted to scare you…I’m so sorry,” he said. It was difficult to be mad at him when he was so sweet. You had, after all, told him to remind you of your meeting you had that day. He was so easy to forgive, too. Whenever he went to buy groceries, he returned with a bouquet of flowers, and after he had figured out your favorite candy, he made sure you never ran out of your supply. You liked being alone, but suddenly it felt nice to have someone waiting for you at home. A warm sensation filled your heart whenever he asked you about your day during dinner.

Even if after dinner you had to argue with him as if he was your son, because the demon in him had decided to take on the form of a teenage boy who was too lazy to take out the trash. You were still seated at the table, rolling your eyes at the demon’s horrible attempt at being evil.

“Don’t make me ask you one more time,” you threatened him, although you didn’t know what you would have done had he continued to argue against you. Only when he reached for the knife that he had already put down tidily on his plate, your eyes widened. His knuckles were white around the metal and you leaned back instinctively. Your gun was still in your belt – you had sat down for dinner straight after returning home – but you didn’t want to use it. Not on him.

“Chanhee,” you spoke in a calm tone. His face was unreadable. He wasn’t making eye contact. Instead, his gaze was glued onto the blade in his hand, staring blankly. His eyes blinked, almost robotically. Something changed in his demeanor then. There was a tremble in the hand that was clutching the knife. It grew more uneasy by each passing moment. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you kept your eyes trained on him, trusting your reflexes.

“Fine,” he suddenly said in a grumpy tone. Then he dropped the knife. The metallic sound rang in your ears for seconds afterward. You let out the breath you didn’t know you had been holding on to, as you watched him get up and retrieve the full trash bag from under the sink. You had been sleeping with your bedroom door unlocked for weeks. Even though it pained you, that night you locked your door again.

~

At 3:28 am you awoke to the sound of breaking glass. You allowed yourself to yawn and rub the sleep out of your eyes for just a moment, then you were on your feet. Gun in hand, you opened your door. Across the hall, the door to Chanhee’s room stood ajar. Light came from downstairs.

“Chanhee?” you called quietly. No answer. But your ears picked up shuffling and the sound of shards of glass being moved around. You approached slowly, trying not to give yourself away. Then you heard the quiet sobs. Your arm with the gun dropped to your side when you stepped into the kitchen.

He was sitting on the floor like he was one of the shattered pieces of glass himself. When he saw you, he flinched and tried to dry away his tears. But it was no use. They kept coming, and you had already seen them either way.

“I dropped it on purpose,” he said, referring to the broken glass. Another sob went through his body, making your chest ache at the sight of him. “I’m sorry.”

“I have nine more of those. It’s alright,” you assured him. Gently, you sat down by his side. You put your arms around his hunched frame. He stiffened at first but calmed his muscles after a moment and let you hold him.

“Shh, it’s okay,” you said. Whatever it was that was hurting him so much, you’d be here to fight it off for him.

“I can’t stop the evil in me,” he cried. His weeps seeped through your skin and tugged at your organs. It felt like a thousand tiny, sharp needles in your heart.

“It’s a part of you. It’ll never fully go away. But look at you, you’re doing such a good job holding it inside of you,” you whispered. He shuddered.

“I tried to kill you,” he stated. “I don’t deserve you. You’re so kind. You do all this for me, and I tried to kill you.”

“But you didn’t,” you said. “And that’s what counts. We all have urges inside of us…but it’s what we end up doing that truly counts and makes us who we are.”

“But it’s so hard,” he cried. His face was in the crook of your neck as he sniffled. The small teardrops that touched your skin felt like ice. “And all I do is bother you. I’m an inconvenience. Why don’t you just lock me up with the other demons? Why give me another chance every time I mess up?”

You couldn’t believe he would hate himself so much. Chanhee had more compassion than a lot of the humans you knew had. Some days he sat and pet your bird for hours just because it made him happy, he always had money on him to give to the homeless people in front of the grocery store and he almost cried thinking he forgot to pay for an item at the store (which you had obviously paid for).

“How could you even compare yourself to other demons?” you said. “If you want, I will take you in to work with me sometime. Then you’ll see the atrocities others commit. Even among humans, you’d still be sorted into the best of the best. I believe in you and that you will do good.”

He only sobbed harder at what you had said, and you felt the need to pull him in just a little tighter. You softly rocked your bodies in an attempt to calm him down.

“I would fall apart without you.” Between the hiccups and tears his words sounded like a broken confession, but that’s why they hit so hard.

“You’re not alone in this. I’m here for you,” you whispered, lips right by his ear. Your hands were in his hair, stroking his head as if you could pour all your emotions into this one gesture. What else could you do to show him you would never abandon him the way his demon people had? And it seemed to do the trick. His fists that had been clutching your shirt loosened up and his sorrowful crying turned into mellow breathing on your skin.

“Aren’t you sleepy?” you asked. “Let’s get you back to sleep. Tomorrow things will be better.”

“I haven’t been able to sleep well for three days,” he said. “But I need to clean this up first.”

He let go of you and started to pick up shards of glass. There was still a haggard expression on him, and his cheeks were painted red and tear stained. And yet he was determined.

“Let me do this,” you said, touching his arm. “You can’t even keep your eyes open. Go to bed, Chanhee.”

This time, he didn’t argue. But his good behavior didn’t stop the apologetic, almost battered look at you. He knew you would be by his side no matter what – but what he needed most was his own forgiveness. And you could tell by the way he spoke about himself that it would take a while until he was ready to accept himself as he was.

You heard his heavy steps on the stairs as he walked to his room. Quickly, you gathered the biggest shards of glass and then used a hand brush to collect the tiny pieces. This wasn’t what you had signed up for when you had taken him in. You thought you’d have to argue with him daily and that you’d miss having your personal space and privacy. You knew it would be new, living with another person after living alone for so long. But nothing could have prepared you for the way Chanhee had swept you off your feet with his adorable charms. You didn’t need to fake excitement when you came home to him, nor did you ever have to force yourself to tell him about your day or have any conversation with him, for that matter. He was truly enchanting with the way he made you care so much. Especially when you had assumed all demons were your sworn enemies.

When you finally dragged your tired body upstairs, you softly pushed open the door to his room, only to see him lying wide awake.

“Can’t sleep?” you asked. “Even though you’re so exhausted?”

“No,” he spoke. Even his voice made no attempt at hiding the sleepiness. His look was pleading. “Can you please stay with me…just for a little while?”

There was no way you could say no to his lovely gaze and messy hair and outstretched arms. So, you crawled in next to him under the covers. Your faces were inches apart. The last time you had been looking into a demon’s eyes this close-up he had been lying face-up and dead on the side of a road. Those eyes had been lifeless, and yet you felt like they had still held so much ferociousness, even in death. Now you only saw concern and genuine care in the black orbs across from you. You admired his softly sculpted face. It was one that seemed like it would much rather belong to an angel.

“You’ve been working so much,” he whispered. “You must be much more tired than me.”

“I’m used to it,” you said, “I enjoy my work because I’m doing it to help others.”

“You’re a good person,” he stated. There was something in his voice you couldn’t make out. Regret? Admiration?Maybe it was both.

“So are you, Chanhee,” you said. Without second thought, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his cheek. He didn’t flinch nor pull away. Instead, his pretty lips curled into a smile as he closed his eyes, ready to finally drift off to dreamland.

~

From that night on he seemed to improve a little, day by day. No more breaking things or having to argue about simple house chores. It occurred to you almost as if he had turned into something more human – so much that you dared to take him to work with you. People there had found the idea of your new demon friend strange, and you were sure some would take more than a little convincing to let down their guard around him. You couldn’t blame them for the prejudices – you had once been the same, after all. But Chanhee was okay with it, even when you had explained to him that some people might hate him, just because of his black eyes and what they meant to people. He had lived years of receiving that sort of treatment. Nonetheless, it pained you to think about how used he was to it. It took bravery and thick skin to walk into a police station the way he did that day. He was fascinated, looking behind the scenes. Perhaps you found it amusing how alarmed everyone was when they first laid eyes on him at the station. His ability to turn around their views of his species within twenty seconds or less was nothing but astonishing. He very willingly took it upon himself to walk down to the nearest coffee shop and order ten cups, also earning him the sympathy from the last few sceptics. When you were deep in conversation with another detective, discussing the possible whereabouts of a highly wanted demon, Chanhee suddenly interrupted you.

“I know an underground club where they like to go after…committing crimes,” he said. “Every demon in this city knows about it.”

At that moment you realized his full potential and what good he could really do. That was, if he was ready to sacrifice his people. But he just had – without even blinking. He could be an immense help to you.

“Young man I can see you have a bright future, should you ever decide to join the police force,” said your boss from across the room. Seemed like she had the same idea as you. Chanhee only smiled shyly but couldn’t hide the glint of pride in his eyes.

~

The following days you instantly made arrangements to get Chanhee an interview with the head of the station. He had been scared, at first.

“What if the other people there hate me?” he suspected.

“They might make assumptions about you in their heads, you know, because you’re a demon. They only know demons to be evil. But the moment they realize how good of a person you are, I promise they’ll change their mind,” you said. “You’ll be precious to us, and if you want to do good, the police is where you can be the most helpful. You’ll change lives, maybe even save people.”

“Yes, I want to help,” he said. “I’m done with my kind.”

“I’ll talk to my boss tomorrow,” you assured him. “If you’re too anxious to come in to the station, maybe she’ll allow you to work from home, from my office here. This is just a try, okay? If you really enjoy this work, you’ll have to learn and earn your badge.”

The way he looked at you filled you with so much pride. He seemed to have found some hope. Like he could finally spend his time in a productive and truly good manner. You couldn’t wait to see how he would do.

~

A tiring day and many discussions with higher-ups at workplace later, you returned at your home, late at always. Your fingers tingled with excitement and you wanted to yell for Chanhee the moment you walked through your door. You had managed to score an internship for him at your station. He was allowed to start as early as the following week. As you walked up the stairs, following the shuffling noise you heard, you imagined his face when you told him the news. You knew he’d be ecstatic. His smile would make you so happy, and you almost grinned at the mere thought of it. The noises were coming out of your office.

“Hi, Chanhee. Guess what my boss-,” you started. Then you fell speechless. Paper was scattered all over the floor. Drawers stood wide open. The orderly sorted piles of case files you had been working on were dispersed into every corner of the small room. Photos and pieces of paper were falling out of the folders. And in midst of it all stood Chanhee.

“Y/N- I’m so-,” he said, helpless.

“Don’t,” you said. Every ounce of excitement was gone from your voice, replaced by an ice cold tone you didn’t know you had in you. He flinched, but you couldn’t keep in what you had to say. “You’re impossible. I can’t fucking believe this! These are real cases, Chanhee! I’m trying to save real people here! This isn’t some broken mirror or a spilled cup of water. I can look past a shattered glass, but this is too much…I honestly thought you were getting better…”

Somewhere you knew you were being too harsh. But your job was your entire reason for existing. This was your life mission, laid out in front of you as if a hurricane had rampaged through the room. It would take days for you to rearrange the files. You weren’t even sure if you’d be able to find the correct places for each piece of paper.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice cracking because he was about to cry.

“I don’t want to see you right now. Please get out. I need to clean this up and you can’t help me with this,” you said, trying hard not to scream out of frustration. Your eyes were already scanning the floor. You had no idea where to even start. With low-hanging shoulders and teary eyes that were threatening to spill over, Chanhee slipped past you. He granted you one more look before he scurried out of the office like a frightened animal.

Even though your stomach was grumbling from starvation and you could barely stay awake – as always – you needed to get some of the cleaning done. Now. Or you would go insane. Plus, you needed time away from Chanhee. While you collected the paper from every inch of the wooden floor, guilt slowly started to nag at you. You had never raised your voice at him to this extent. And he was sensitive. It wasn’t his fault, that’s what you always told him when he blamed himself for messing things up. He knew that. You cursed at yourself. How could you be so impulsive? All too well you knew how he felt about his demon half. You were supposed to be there for him, to tell him he was doing a good job and to make sure he didn’t beat himself up. Now you had achieved the complete opposite. A dull ache in your chest accompanied your hungry stomach.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. In a haze, you stepped down the stairs and to the door. You needed to apologize to Chanhee. When you opened the door, a delivery girl from your favorite restaurant stood there, handing you an order. You were puzzled.

“Already payed for,” she checked with a beaming smile, “Enjoy your meal!”

“Thank you,” you said, voice numb. Before you knew it, she had turned on her heel and was on the way back to the car.

“Chanhee! Your food is here,” you shouted, assuming he was the one who had made the order. You got no answer. When you set the bag down on the kitchen table, you saw a note, addressed to you.

Y/N,

Words can’t express how sorry I am about what I’ve done. All my life I only wanted someone to love me. In you, I thought I might have found what I had been searching for all this time. But I messed up. I always do. I drove you away from what we had. I’ve wondered why I always end up disappointing people. Now I know it’s because it’s the only thing I’m truly good at. You deserve someone you can trust blindly, someone who will walk through fire for you, someone who will take a bullet for you. I can’t give you that. I can’t even trust myself. Thank you for giving me a home and for being the most generous person I have ever met. You will always be in my sweet evil heart. Don’t worry about me too much. I will find my way and you will find yours. Who knows, our paths may cross again. I ordered your favorite food. I know you’re always starving when you get home from work. Enjoy it and don’t let it go cold. Make sure you get enough sleep tonight, and don’t forget to take your water bottle with you tomorrow, you left it here this morning.

I’ll hold you in my happiest thoughts forever,

Chanhee

You only snapped out of your motionless state when one single tear dropped down your cheek and onto the note. A heavy blanket of sorrow and regret sunk into your whole body. The emotions seeped through your skin and before you knew it, you were a sobbing mess on the kitchen floor. You wanted to take him in your arms and tell him you forgave him. Hell, you had forgiven him minutes after you had yelled at him. You should have gone to him then. Had you only apologized quickly enough, perhaps he’d still be here. Then he’d be eating dinner with you, and although you’d be frustrated, you both wouldn’t be alone.

Your tears fell into your food while you ate it, unable to control your sadness and frustration you had against yourself. They mixed with the shower water as you stood in silence under the hot stream, overthinking everything. Your pillow was wet from the crying as you struggled to fall asleep. Like a broken-hearted zombie you trudged across the hall and into his room. Chanhee’s covers still smelled like him and you hugged them tightly, as if you could hold a piece of him and bring him back that way. But there was nothing you could have done. He had left, and it was alone your fault.

~

The next day passed like a vivid fever dream. While you were sat in your meeting, you couldn’t possibly focus on the case your team was discussing. Instead, you pondered whether your makeup was able to conceal your puffy face and the dark circles under your eyes. If it was obvious, at least people didn’t seem to point it out. Maybe they were so used to seeing you tired that it would take a lot more than some tiredness and lack of concentration to arise concern. It was the first time in years you really wanted to go home after work. In fact, you couldn’t stand the laughter and good mood at the police station for one more second. All you wanted to do was scream and cry, and seeing people joke around without any idea about your feelings only intensified your desire. Of course, you could have confided in somebody. But you were afraid they would tell you Serves you right or I told you. You don’t think you’d be able to handle those blatant assumptions and the mocking.

Your plan for the night was set: You’d sit in the bathtub for half an hour, then you’d wrap yourself into a human burrito in a blanket and fill your brain with some brutal movie that would make your life seem like it was mere child’s play. But as most things in your life lately, nothing went as planned. Because after only five minutes in the hot tub, your phone rang on the other side of the room. The first time you ignored it. You really tried. But then it rang again, and you looked up to see the caller ID. It was your boss.

You groaned and quickly stood up, not giving up on the prospects of a peaceful night just yet. But then you heard her message – a break-in at a bank, one dead bank employee, five hostages, a possible shoot out. They were calling for back up. And when there was a chance to throw bad guys behind bars, the most inviting bath or an exciting movie suddenly turned dull.

Not fifteen minutes later you had jumped out the bath, gotten dressed in your uniform, taken your gun and ammunition, and were pulling up at the scene your boss had ordered you to. The bank was in the city center, close to the main square. The police team was stationed in a side street. Some of the team had already been sent to the front of the bank, where the police was attempting to make contact with the robbers.

“They’re holding four hostages in the back of the bank. One of them is at the front, right by the glass doors for us to see. The robbers have guns to their heads. If we come closer, they’ll shoot them,” your colleague informed you.

“Demons?” you asked. Against your will, Chanhee appeared in your mind. You wondered how he was doing. Was he hiding out in somebody else’s garden right now? Had he found a bed to sleep in? Then you quickly shook your head. This was not the time for heavy emotions of any kind.

“Yes. Five of them,” your colleague added. You huffed.

“What do they want us to do? Are they demanding anything?” you asked.

“They want us to let them leave with the money,” she said. You grinned bitterly and nodded.

“What about the back entrance?” you asked. You knew the layout of this bank and had been there multiple times in the past.

“That’s our route. Besides the one at the front, the other demons are inside the bank. The entrance isn’t guarded. A team of four will go to the back and try to sneak up on them. When we have a clear line of fire on all the robbers, we’ll take them out at the same time,” she explained.

“Alright,” you nodded, fixing your bulletproof vest around your upper body. You were ready for this. To others, missions like these would have been nerve-wrecking, and you would have been lying if you said you were completely calm. But the adrenaline was already rushing through your body, and fear was something you hadn’t felt since your very first operation.

“All ready?” your colleague asked the other two members of the team who would go into the bank. You received nods and professional expressions. You had all trained together and were used to functioning like one unit. Sticking close together, you rounded the bank, using a side street so the demons wouldn’t see you approaching. In your ear, the voice of your boss was giving orders and checking in on you. The street was dark and devoid of any life except for your team. Multiple of the surrounding streets had been evacuated and shut off to the public. The scene had something straight out of a heist movie. Except this time, the robbers weren’t going to pull of the perfect theft and get away. You would make sure of it.

“We’re almost there,” you said. “Twenty meters to the entrance. Awaiting permission to go inside.”

“You have permission,” your boss spoke over your earpiece. One last look at your teammates, and you were on the move. Sneaking inside soundlessly was easy. The backrooms were all empty. As you passed abandoned offices, you saw knocked over office equipment and paper scattered on the floors. Lamps had been left on and you heard the faint buzzing of a running computer that was most certainly unoccupied. Moving swiftly, you walked along the corridors, guns pointed ahead at all times. Your teamwork was untouchable. One of you made sure the path was clear, then the rest followed.

“You are one room away from the entry hall,” your boss said.

“Understood,” you answered and slowed down your steps. A cat wouldn’t have been able to walk more silently than you did. Now your ears picked up voices. Somebody was crying. There was shuffling of feet on marble.

“Shut up!” a male voice yelled. The crying faded out into muteness. In the dark, you could make out figures. A few countertops and a good distance separated you and your team from the demons and the hostages. You nodded to your colleagues and they understood. The four of you parted ways, moving into the room and taking shelter behind the bank counters. Once again, you checked the situation. Close to you, four hostages sat on the floor. A woman was still crying, and you could tell she was struggling to keep herself quiet. Around them, four demons stood, dressed in black. Their ski masks kept their faces hidden, but their body languages told you enough. They were not to be messed with. By the far entrance, the fifth demon was positioned with the remaining hostage, and you could spot the police cars outside in the town square. From behind your hiding spots, each of your teammates had a clear line of fire on the demons. The fifth one would be taken out from police outside the bank. You were just about to send a signal to your boss to let her know you were in position. Suddenly, the scraping of feet on the floor alarmed you.

“What was that?” one of the demons barked. The noise had come from your colleague beside you, who was now flinching. You had no time to think. No time to complain about her mistake. If you didn’t act now, they were going to close in on you.

You jumped up, pointing your gun at the closest demon. Right away, the remaining demons had their guns aimed at the hostages’ heads. Your colleagues had done as you, guns held towards the demons. Now you got a proper look at them. They were towering over the hostages, who were crouched on the floor in intimidation. The one in front of you only chuckled. Humans didn’t laugh like this. It was pure malice and recklessness displayed in front of you.

“I thought we told you to stay away,” he began. The only thing you could truly note about him was his mouth. The rest was covered by his mask and where the white of eyes should have been, two orbs of darkness sat, eying you like prey.

“Let the hostages go and we won’t shoot you,” you ordered, with a surprisingly calm voice.

“And why would we do that when we can just kill them?” he asked. His gaze momentarily focused on his fellow demons, as if he was a stand-up comedian and he had just delivered the funniest punch line.

“You will die if you harm even one of the hostages,” you stated.

“Oh, is that so? Humans never learn, do they?” he said. This monster was completely insane. And suicidal too, it seemed. “Go on, shoot.”

First, you thought he was urging your team to shoot. Then you realized, he was looking at the demon closest to you. The very demon you had your gun pointed at. He was asking the other demon to shoot at the hostages. You were preparing to pull the trigger.

But then your mind started racing. You stared at him intensely as your heartbeat quickened uncontrollably in your chest. The dark eyes. The soft lips. His skinny frame and gentle hands. You knew exactly who this demon was. You’d be able to pick him out of any crowd. What the hell was he doing here?

“Shoot!” the bigger demon shouted again, but Chanhee didn’t budge.

“I told you he was goddamn useless,” one of the others said. “Get rid of him.”

“You don’t deserve any of this money,” the bigger demon snarled, and his hand went to his belt. You knew there were human lives on the line. What you were about to do could be considered not only stupid, but wildly imprudent. Emotions were supposed to be left out of police operations. But how could you not have been blind with shock? You were going to let your heart control your body over your mind, and if it was deadly so be it. The bigger demon was now raising his arm at Chanhee.

Before you knew it, you had jumped out from behind the counter. You mirrored the demon’s actions and you pointed at him, pulling the trigger. At the same time, his gun went off. Just in time, you had pushed your body between the two demons.

“Y/N!” Chanhee shouted.

The bullet hit your shoulder and you fell backwards. Burning heat spread through your insides as you stumbled and reached for anything, anyone to hold on to. You could only think of Chanhee, and how your bullet had pierced through the big demon’s skull perfectly. Then, your colleagues opened the gunfire. The shots sounded almost muffled through the intense amount of adrenaline in your blood and the initial effect of being hit. Your body fell to the ground with a heavy thud, and a wave of agony spread through you. You grimaced at the excruciating pain, hands grasping at your shoulder. All you could see was white, before you sank onto your back and the world went dark.

~approximately 18 months later~

“Y/N,” Chanhee said, for the sixth time within the last ten minutes. You pressed your phone harder against your ear, holding it up with your shoulder. Your hands were too busy writing a police report on your laptop.

“Chanhee, I promise I’m writing the last few sentences already,” you assured him. He liked it when you came home early, leaving enough time to relax on the couch with him, instead of falling into bed like a corpse. Today, he was especially insistent, urging you to stay on the phone with him until you had finally packed up your things and left the police department. You guessed he was just trying to make sure you couldn’t stop somewhere along the way and start working on something new. And maybe that fear wasn’t so far off the truth.

“I’m done,” you said. “Status report: I’m switching off the laptop. Now I’m taking my bag. I’m getting up. I’m locking my office behind me. I’ll be home in twenty minutes or less.”

His laughter on the other side of the line made you smile. You couldn’t wait to see his face and get to hug him.

“Alright. I can’t wait,” he said. “I’ll see you.”

The walk home was calm. A soft breeze went through your hair and in the distance, you heard sirens of an ambulance. Promptly you were catapulted back to your memories and into the vehicle after you had been shot. Going in and out of consciousness, you kept repeating one name: Chanhee. When you woke up in the hospital bed, you half-expected him to be sitting there, waiting for you to wake up. But of course that was not the case. He had committed a crime – or at least tried to commit one. The prosecution was in his favor. They acknowledged his compliance with the police and his hesitation to hurt the hostage. Plus, he sold out the other demons and showed no resistance at any point. His regret and sorrow was apparent, nonetheless his mistake caused him 11 months in prison – by far less than the other robbers got.

People had called you insane for standing by him. Others thought you brave and newspapers named him the first good demon in the world. Every week you visited him in prison, often more than once. You made the most of your short time to talk, and with your kindest words you let him know that you were still here for him. Every visit you learned a bit more about how he had ended up in that bank.

After he had walked out on you, he had nowhere to go. So, after strolling the street mazes for days he found himself in the very demon night club he had once warned you about. Most unsavory figures twisted his mind into thinking doing good was no use. They made him believe he would never be able to escape the demon in him, and he might as well embrace the malice. They more or less pulled him along to the robbery, while he overthought the whole thing. It hurt you, seeing him cry as he recounted how scared he was when he saw the hostages. Some of them ended up injured, but all survived. You knew he would have never forgiven himself, had one of them died.

The day you picked him up from prison was a day you’d never forget. Holding each other in your arms felt so right, and you had missed it tremendously. His months at the prison hadn’t been easy, but you made sure he felt loved and cared for when he finally returned. He almost refused to believe that you would open your doors to him again. It was no question to you. You’d always be here for him. Even when he insisted you keep your office at home locked at all times. You trusted him almost a hundred percent by now. His demon only came out rarely, especially in times of stress or intense negative emotions. But you only treated him with kindness, and he gave back just as much of it.

“Chanhee I’m home!” you shouted as you entered your home.

“I’m up here,” he spoke. You ran up the stairs, excited to see him. Your eyes fell onto the open door of your office. For a moment, your heartbeat quickened as you approached it. You must have forgotten to lock the door that morning. Slowly, you pushed it open.

“Hello,” he grinned. You only chuckled as you watched him, sitting by your desk, a book in his hands. “I hope you don’t mind me being in here. This chair is so comfortable.”

“It’s all good,” you said. “Do you know what day it is today?”

“Umm…Friday?” he asked.

“It’s been exactly two years since you first started living here,” you said. “I think we should get some take out and celebrate, what do you say?”

“I can’t believe it’s been two years,” he said. “I’d love that. And you know what? I think I’m ready to start the internship at the police station.”

You smiled proudly. He had put his book down and was getting up.

“You’re going to do good things,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. He finally had found his place. His home. And you were never going to give up on him.

[bbyboybrock--archived]

Happy New Year (Colby Brock Imagine)

Summary: *REQUEST* Can you do one where they are strangers and meet each other during a new years eve party and then end up kissing each other when the ball drops and make it super romantic (not in covid times) pretty please

Written: 2021

Word Count: 2,040

Warnings: Swearing, mention of being roofied, breakup

Masterlist

I sit in the uber, waiting for everyone to get out. Maybe they’ll be too excited about the party to realize that I went home. Maybe I should escape out the other door and disappear into the night. I didn’t even want to come out tonight in the first place. After the year I’ve had, going to an influencer party is the last place I want to attend. Unluckily for me, my best friends were tired of me staying in my apartment all day, every day, and refused to let me ring in the new year alone. Sadly, this meant that I had to go with them to a party because my apartment gave off “depression vibes” and that “wasn’t the move” for 2021. That’s the only thing that I agreed with them on, the vibe thing, not going to a party. 

After nearly a year of quarantine and processing a breakup, my place is a bit of a disaster. If it wasn’t for Janie ambushing me every day last week to help/force me to clean up, my apartment would still look like that cave where the grinch lives— minus Max. There were various alcohol bottles collecting dust on the counter. Not in a “she’s spiraling very rapidly” sort of way, but in a way that you could tell that I had a rough few weeks and the occasional wine night with the gals. There were boxes, mostly from March and April, that I still had yet to throw out after impose buying a bunch of stuff. My closet had turned into my bed because that was the only safe space that wasn’t cluttered with food packaging or tainted by memories that no longer bring me joy. I hadn’t properly seen my floor in months until we pulled back the layer of filth. I forgot that I had carpet. Still, after all that, I managed to make videos every week without fail.

“Y/N, c’mon, you’re not escaping this time. Let’s go so you can forget that asshole and that backstabbing bitch.” Persephone begs as she pulls me out of the car. Once out of the car, she adjusts her long, dark brown curls and smooths out her dress before reconnecting to her boyfriend’s hip. They both match with their gold and black outfits. All of my friends and their significant others match. Ophelia and her girlfriend are wearing silver and blue while Janie and her boyfriend are wearing maroon and gold. They all look like gods and goddesses and here I am wearing green and sliver on my own. Could I be anymore single?

“I’m not going to do it, I was just thinking about it. Don’t worry. I have to get footage for the vlog anyway. Gotta prove that I did something other than stay home this year. My fans are getting concerned.” I pull out my camera and get a few clips of everyone.

“Might as well get some pictures then so people will believe you.”1 Ophelia winks before grabbing me and leading us to what I’m assuming is the designated photo spot. There’s even a line. This is going to be one of those nights.

****

“Aw, fuck…” I mutter to myself as my drink gets knocked out of my hand. This house isn’t big enough for the number of people that were invited. 

“I am so sorry! Here, let me help you.” The guy who bumped into me extends his hand for me to grab. I’m sober enough to know not to take completely random strangers' hands at parties, especially in LA, but I’m also drunk enough to not care. He looks nice enough and I can spot Ophelia and her girlfriend Zoe keeping an eye on me from the corner of the room. I guess everyone is taking turns to make sure I don’t bail.

Against better judgment, I take this beautiful stranger’s hand and let him guide me out of the house to the backyard. It’s less crowded out here, maybe because there are more activities to do inside. Out here, I can actually breathe even though people are smoking and vaping out here. The music is quieter. The music is still loud, but like it would burst your eardrum like the music inside. I get a better look at the guy who brought me out here. He’s not bad looking, and I really hope that’s not the alcohol talking. He has the most relaxing blue eyes I’ve ever seen on a guy. His hair is dark brown with a bit of, I think, purple in the front. He looks as threatening as a pug, but looks can be deceiving.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t get any on you did I?” He asks as he scans my body, not in a creepy way. Which is a nice change of pace.

“My feet but they’re just shoes so I don’t care. I call these my going out shoes, they’re made for moments like this so you’re all good. I’m Y/N by the way.” I stick my hand out for him to shake. He looks at it puzzled for a second before it registers and he grabs my hand and gives it a firm shake. 

“Right— I spilled your drink on you and basically kidnapped you from the party and you don’t even know my name. It’s Colby, Colby Brock.” Colby shakes my hand a little too long before quickly pulling it away.

“I’m Y/N, you can get the last name later,” I bite my bottom lip, close my eyes, and mentally slap my head. “That was lame, wasn’t it?”

“It’s fine. It’s a thousand times better than anything I would have come up with. Just blame it on the alcohol.”

We both laugh before Colby singles that he’ll be right back. I watch as Colby disappears a small group of people. I take off my shoes and walk to the pool, dipping my feet in as I sit. The cool night air is soothing me. It’s a nice change from the stale scent of my apartment and the sweaty bodies inside the party. I look up to the night sky. The light pollution makes it impossible to see what stars and constellations are above us. Whatever I’m staring at right now feels peaceful, like they are aligned or not in retrograde. I have no idea what any of that means, but I do know that I’ve been around Ophelia too much.

Colby taps my shoulder when he gets back. He kicks off his shoes and socks before joining me in the pool, not even rolling up his pant legs. He’s going to regret that in a few hours. He hands me an unopened can of Truly. I take it from him and open it myself. At least I know he’s not a creep. He opens a can of White Claw and sips it before breaking the silence.

“I have to be honest, Y/N.” Colby looks forward, taking another sip.

“Oh no, what is it?” I ask nervously.

“The real reason I dropped your drink is because I saw some asshole slip something in your drink.” Colby finally looks at me and I can tell he’s serious.

“Wait…what? Someone tried to… Any you thought the best was to inform me was to spill my drink all over me?” I’m more taken aback by the idea of me almost getting roofied than anything. That would have been the perfect way to end this shit storm of a year.

“In hindsight, I planned to spill your drink. I didn’t mean to get any on you. I’m not a hundred percent sober right now so that was the downside of my plan. Don’t worry about the guy, my friend Corey went after him.”

“Wow— Uh, thank you. I mean it. I don’t think I could have dealt with… that on top of everything else I had to handle this year.” I take a sip of my drink and swing my legs in the water. 

“Do you want to talk about it? I’m not big on talking about serious stuff with strangers, so I’ll understand if you don’t want to. However, we’re both getting hammered, if we aren’t already, so the likely hood of us even remembering this conversation tomorrow let alone who we are slim. So if you need to vent, vent.”

I weigh the pros and cons of actually venting everything to this beautiful stranger. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but I decided to say fuck it. The year is almost over anyway, might as well get rid of this baggage and start the year fresh.

“Long story short: after months of quarantining together Axl, my boyfriend of 10 years, cheated on me. The entire time we were in quarantine. With my younger sister, who I let quarantine with us so she wouldn’t be alone and not have to fly back home to be with our parents. And to top it all off, I found out about it on my birthday when I walked in on them fucking each other on my bed.” I take a larger sip of my drink before leaning back and staring back at the virtually starless sky.

“Holy fucking shit,” Colby leans back to join me in looking at the sky.

“Yup! We met in preschool and started dating when we were 13. She’s four years younger than us to that’s annoying.” 

“Not to be that guy, but I don’t know what you expected when you started dating a guy named Axl.”

“… You’re right, that is a pretty douchey name. I literally ignored the biggest red flag in my entire life.”

Colby and I laugh again until it fades. I don’t think I’ve laughed this much, like actually laughed, in months. It feels good. Inside the house, the crowd starts counting down from 15. Colby must have heard it too because I watch him turn his head from the corner of my eye. I turn my head to face him. He really does have beautiful eyes. Like the ocean.

“This may be a dumb idea and I know we don’t know each other, but do you want to be my new years kiss?”

“I may regret this in the future, but what the hell.” We both sit up and adjust our clothes.

It might be risky to just kiss a random stranger at midnight, but who cares. We’re most likely not going to be in each other’s lives after tonight anyway. But by God, I could do much worse than kissing Colby. Unless I’m very drunk and the drunk goggles are seriously fucking with me. It’s not like I’m going home with him, my friends won’t let that happen. Maybe after this party, we’ll go our separate ways and never see each other again. Maybe we’ll run into each other in a random store in LA or at some creator convention.

The drunken yells of party-goers inch closer and closer to midnight.

“Three,” Colby whispers, moving his hair out of his face.

“Two,” I take one more small sip before finally setting my drink down. Colby does the same. My heart is beating a loud, steady rhythm in my chest like it’s about to burst.

“One,” We whisper at the same time before slowly leaning in.

As our lips touch, it felt like time had stopped. The beating intense beating in my heart only intensifies the longer our lips stay pressed together. One of Colby’s hands finds my face why the other reaches for my thigh, but I can only focus on how soft his lips are. My stomach starts forming knots as he tries to deepen the kiss. I don’t know if it’s everything I drank tonight coursing through my veins or the fact that I haven’t been kissed in months, but I slightly part my lips. The mixture of Colby’s scent and his body heat wash over me like they’re intoxicating my senses. The kiss ends just as suddenly as it started. We both pull away and just stare at each other in awe.

“L/N,” I breathe, fixing my hair.

“What?” Colby takes another sip of his drink.

“My last name is L/N.”  

[wtfevenismypage]

Observer, Not Profiler PT4

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: You’re similar to a profiler, but you can tell almost anything about a person just from a single glance. What they had for dinner, if they took a bath or shower, their name, favorite color, if they lie, even if they’re good in bed. You’ve been running from the government ever since you got caught hacking into their systems and since then you have been diagnosed with Extreme anxiety, anxious tics, and paranoia. But now the BAU need you’re help in Identifying killers.

Warnings: maybe a curse word or two, mentions of death, anxious/nervous ticking, tic attacks, mentions of rape, mentions of child rape, sassy Garcia

A/N: this is kinda just a filler chapter, the next one will be better!

Drums pound in your ears as you step into Hotch’s office. He used his serious voice to get you in there, which gave you unwanted anxiety. 

Thump thump. Your wrists bruise together as you step into Hotch’s office. His eyes dart up to yours, motioning for you to sit, which you do, sighing as your left palms claps against the arm of the chair.

“Yes sir?”

“You are going to be staying here with Garcia during our next case.”

Confusion poked your ribs, that wasn’t bad at all? Why was he so upset? It didn’t make any sense.

“Alright, is that all? You look upset...”

“An agent from the CIA is coming to observe your performance for this case only. Higher ups are still concerned that you will use the equipment here to get into the government, so they sent an agent to keep you supervised. He’ll try and give you a hard time so that you end up lashing out, but just keep your head down.”

Your eyebrows furrow. A CIA agent? They were sending an agent to keep you in check? You were shocked that they even cared at this point, that was a long time ago, and now you were just an anxiety riddled girl trying to start a new life.

“Oh... Um, I don’t know what to say... Why... They’re sending... Ugh...”

You groan as your neck twitches to the side aggressively. You could already tell that your tics were going to be a bitch until the case was done. 

“This isn’t ideal for any of us, I tried to convince them that this wasn’t necessary, but they refused to listen. I understand that this is going to add immense pressure to both you and Garcia, but I ask that you try your hardest to ignore him and his petty comments that he’ll most likely make.”

“Yes sir...”

He sighs, standing up and patting your shoulder.

“Let’s get to the round table.”

Less than two hours later, your sat next to Garcia in the bat cave, a tall and intimidating CIA agent standing at the doorway to watch your every move. It was distracting ad terrifying to say the least. 

He was originally standing directly behind you, but Garcia saw how purely uncomfortable you were and yelled at him to move back. She really was a savior.

“Alright my dearies, Mr. Paul Ways was married four times, has seven children that were taken from his custody, and has gone through ten dogs that all died within a year of being owned by him.”

Garcia spoke on the video-chat, everyone else on a jet. 

“His laptop is disgusting by the way, purely covered in filmed rape tapes being sold on the black market. Some of it is of children by the way, and the others are of girls that were barely over 18.”

The agent spoke up.

“Is that not illegal what you’re doing? Hacking into his laptop without his consent?”

You grimace, struggling to keep yourself from ticking. Garcia speaks up.

“The laptop actually wasn’t owned by him, it was owned by his husband who gladly gave us consent when he heard that we were trying to catch his husbands killer. Now please stop speaking, it’s taking away time that we don’t have.”

You smile at Garcia, who simply pats your shoulder once and turns back to her computer.

“What about the second victim?”

“That would be a resident arsonist Mr. Rickardson. He set four massive fires to buildings and got the security footage to watch it back. Ten people have died in total because of his fires. The footage of each person’s death was labeled and saved to his computer.”

“I hate to have to ask this, but watch the videos, all of them. Mark anything you can find.”

You groan as they hang up, clicking on the first video of the fire and watching every angle, trying not to turn your head in disgust as the screams of a burning woman fill your ears.

“Oh god... This is horrible...”

You say as you take in the victims information.

“She’s eighteen. Lisa. I can’t... She was... Oh god I’m gonna have a tic attack...”

You stand up and run out of the room immediately, ignoring Garcia’s concerned yells as you plop down on the floor, letting your tics take over. Your wrist slam against each other, your palms smack any wall they can find, and your head just keeps jerking to the side.

The door opens next to you, the condescending agent walking out.

“What are you doing?”

You whimper, knowing this is going to dampen your chances of staying with the team.

“I-I’m having a tic-tic attack... Just... Just le-leave me alone. Ple-please.”

He doesn’t budge, rather than shoo him off though, you opt for the smarter option, letting him witness your break down. And as soon as it’s over, you stands up, looking him in the eye with a furious glare.

“I hope that was as fun for you as it was for me.”

You whisper out before marching back into the computer filled room and plopping back down next to Garcia.

“I’m alright.”

You said it more to yourself than to Garcia, but you clicked on the video again, whimpering, but taking in everything you can.

This week is going to suck.

-

-

-

-

-

You click away at the keyboard of your computer, searching for a Mr. Paul Nees and any information you can find on him. 

“C’mon my sweet computer you, don’t start slowing down on me now.”

The CIA agent is still stalking over you, making sure you don’t ‘hack into the government’ A.K.A jabbing insults into your brain any chance he gets.

“I mean, a little girl like you? You won’t make it.”

You sigh out at his comments continue.

“Why are you so concerned with it? I mean it isn’t your life so, you shouldn’t be so concerned. I’ll survive.”

“You really think you’re gonna be able to survive with those freaky tics of yours?”

You try to make it seem like his words don’t affect you, but they hurt so bad, they seeped into your brain and stuck with you, making you groan as they swim in your mind.

-

-

-

-

-

You were right, it only got worse as the Agent’s constant condescending comments kept sneaking their way into your brain.

“A little girl like you? You won’t make it.” “You really think you’re gonna be able to survive with those freaky tics of yours?”

You had broken down into sobs many times over the week, desperate to avoid the man, but he was everywhere that you went. It was one of the worst two weeks of your life. 

“Just give me a few minutes to myself! Just a few minutes!”

You shout at the smirking agent, tears trailing down your face.

“Why would you need time alone? To hack into the government?”

That really set you off. You didn’t understand how someone so dumb was a CIA agent. It made no sense to you. 

“Are you fucking joking? I spend six years running and you think I’m just gonna up and do it again!? I’m human! I just want to spend a bit of time alone! How is this an issue!?”

“Because you hacked into the government. Of course we need eyes on you. I don’t understand it however. You seem harmless.”

That’s it. You finally crack.

“Oh I’ll fucking show you harmless.”

You lunge at him, trying to tackle him to the floor, but a body slamming into you stops you. You writhe on the floor under the heavy body, trying to get away.

“Y/N. Calm yourself down. Take a breath Y/N!”

It was Spencer, hearing his voice ring out in your ears made you less squirmy, but you were still breathing pure adrenaline. 

“He- I just! He kept!”

You could barely form coherent sentences as the smug smirk of the evil agent poisoned your brain.

“I know Y/N, I know, but you have to calm yourself down okay? I know it’s been rough with him all this time, but just calm down alright?”

You couldn’t stop the onslaught of tears and broken sobs that erupted, but goddammit you were going to try. You struggled to keep yourself from screaming out right then and there, but your brain gave you a second option.

Knock the fuck out dude.

So you did. You passed out right then and there, like no ones business.

-

-

-

-

-

You woke up with a panicky start. Not quite sure where you are at first, but as you look around you realize it’s an empty office. You’re laid out on a couch, a small blanket thrown on top of you.

“Hey, good morning.”

You look up at the voice, seeing Derek, Emily, and Spencer sitting on the table. Concerned expressions on their faces.

“What happened? Is that evil agent still here?”

Derek chuckles, but shakes his head.

“Nah, he’s gone. You managed to get off with a warning by the way. You can’t just attack agents like that Y/L/N.” 

You hang your head low, guilt climbing up your throat, or acid reflux actually. 

“I’m sorry. I was just... Just tired of his constant teasing and all of the comments he made... I know it was wrong, but I just couldn’t handle it anymore...”

There was a small silence, but it ended quickly when a second body sat next to you on the couch. It was Spencer. Spencer who, no matter what managed to stay calm around you and calm you down, Spencer who never raised his voice around you, Spencer who was always so patient with you, Spencer who was currently hugging you.

You tensed up when his arms wrapped around you initially, which made Spencer panic and almost pulls away, but when you sink into his warm chest, he relaxes, letting you cry into the crook of his neck. 

He knew this week was difficult for you, Garcia kept them all updated on how horrible it was, providing camera footage of the agent taunting you, and Spencer hated seeing you so distraught. 

Truth be told, when he saw you again in the interrogation room, his heart stopped at the sight of you. Yes, you looked like you hadn’t slept in years, and yes, you looked absolutely terrified to be there, but he was so entranced by your skill of knowing a person just by looking, he couldn’t notice how much of a mess you looked like.

You were beautiful in his eyes and that was that.

“It’s alright Y/N. You’re alright.”

And for the first time in six years, you believe it.

A/N: I realize that ending makes it seem like the actual end, but oh baby we’ve just begun!

Taglist:

@imsuperawkward @ithinkilovetruecrimetoomuch​ @l0ve-0f-my-life​ @hopebaker​ @thatsonezesty13​ @nightlygiggless​ @aberrant-annie​ @holybatflapexpert​ @spencerreidisbootiful​ @april-14-blog​ @jackryan-plz @kalebtheo​ @ajwantsapancake @lightswriting @emilouu @yourmisosoup @lizziebritish @101donuts @rainsong01 @pretty-boy-genius @squirrellover1967 @gublerstyles @delievia @boxofsparklingmuses @annestine @baby-i-am-fireproof @allthedumbassfandoms @irjuejjsaa @zhangyixingxing1 @madcrazy50 @maryhuffxoxo @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @officialbogbody @m3lly-x @dark-night-sky-99 @eu-solidao @thupidalethea @bad-idea-personified @random-thoughts-003 @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

And when dick finds out jason KNEW and didn't tell b/c of the bet. oh man. Can we get a chapter in dick's pov on this? idc where u put it I just really want to read it.

Dick rolled his eyes at his brother’s antics. Honestly, he didn’t really care who Ladybug was. They had more than enough proof that she was on the good side and their little squabble didn’t seem all that serious.

Besides, no one in France knew who she was after her being a hero for four years. Dick wasn’t one to attempt the impossible (he loved things that seemed impossible, but that’s different than things that actually are).

Still, Damian had come to him for help and he was fine taking some time out of his day to research with him.

And what did they find? Pretty much nothing.

The Parisians either guessed her age as 15-21 or somewhere in the thousands.

She had to have come over from France over the past two days but there wasn’t a single person even moderately matching her description who had come over.

Her friend group was iffy. Supposedly she was friends with someone named Chloe Bourgeois, who’d had the bee miraculous for a short period of time. Then again, some footage indicated that Ladybug might actually hate the girl, so that information was useless. All the other heroes she’d worked with were still a mystery.

And her powers? God, don’t even get him started on her powers. Did she know what she was going to summon or not -- sometimes it seemed like it and sometimes it didn’t. Just how far did the apparent invulnerability go? How does someone take a miraculous? How does her outfit work? Why won’t the mask come off? How much did her cure actually fix? The only thing they knew for sure was that she had to participate in a battle for her to be able to use it.

Even Tim hadn’t been able to scrounge up more than rumors.

But Damian still wanted Dick to be there when he confronted Ladybug with the information and question her, and he didn’t really have anything better to do.

Finding her was way harder than they thought it’d be. You’d think someone in bright red would be easy to spot in the middle of the night, but apparently not.

But, eventually, they found her.

She didn’t seem to notice them for a while. She hopped from rooftop to rooftop, drink in hand.

And then she stopped. She took a long sip from her drink.

“What do you want?” She asked. Well, at least they knew for sure she was French. Her accent was still pretty thick.

Dick and Damian looked at each other awkwardly. What were they supposed to say? ‘We tried to stalk you on the internet but it didn’t work’?

She spun on her heel and repeated herself: “What do you want?” Her smile was getting more strained.

Damian crossed his arms over his chest. “Who are you?”

Wow. Smooth. He fought the urge to sigh.

Ladybug grinned cheekily as she matched his posture. “I’m Ladybug, of course.”

He could already tell they weren’t going to get anything of substance from her. Still, Damian was sending him pleading looks out of the corner of his eyes. He brought a smile to his face. “We’ve spent the last few days researching you. We looked up immigration records, plane flights, everything. No one matches your descriptions. You, frankly, don’t exist.”

She tapped her earrings. “That’s ‘cause of magic. It keeps people from finding out my identity if I don’t want them to.”

He blinked and looked at Robin, trying to gauge if this could be true. Sure, metas existed and the internet had attributed her powers to the earrings she wore, but the idea of earrings giving people powers was still kinda odd for him.

Robin didn’t know. Great.

And then Ladybug took a sip of her drink and Dick gave pause. He’d seen that cup before. Pretty much every day, actually. He could ask Tim about it later --.

He was pulled back to the present when Damian groaned and left. He broke into a wide smile. Maybe this wouldn’t be impossible, after all.

He held out a hand to shake. “It’s been nice meeting you. Sorry about my…” He hesitated for a half-second, unsure whether he wanted to say ‘brother’. He glanced at her eyes and decided against it. He didn’t like how intent they looked. Whoever she was, she wasn’t stupid, that much was obvious.  “... partner. He’s a bit annoying.”

She beamed as she shook his hand. “It’s fine. It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Nightwing. I hope next time we can get to know each other without him around.”

He chuckled. “Just Nightwing would be fine. And that sounds great.” He gave one last wave before hopping away.

~

Jason’s phone rang and Dick grinned, glad for an excuse to stop working for even a second.

“Who wants to talk to you?”

He held up his phone to show it was ‘Timberly’.

They both frowned at this. Tim? Calling during work? He must be dying.

Jason turned on his speaker.

“Heya, Replacement, what’s up?”

“Hey, I’m going to take the day off.”

Jason and Dick looked at each other for a long time, stunned. And then they finally processed it. “WHAT?!”

“WHO IS THIS?!”

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM?!”

“ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“IS THIS A PRANK?!”

“Yes, I’m fine. No, it’s not a prank. I’ve met someone --”

Jason laughed.

“-- not like that, Jay -- and I’m giving her a tour of the city. She just got here from France a while ago.”

Cafe person? From France? Dick’s brain clicked and he shoved Jason out of the way to get to the phone. “Did you meet her at the cafe?”

“Yes, I met her at the coffee shop, Dick. What does it matter?”

“She could be Ladybug.”

Tim and Jason laughed at him. Laughed.

“You’re insane. Can I have time off or not?”

Dick fought back his annoyance. Tim was actually asking to leave and he wasn’t going to stop him. “Yes!”

“Please!” Added Jason.

The line went dead. Dick dropped back onto the couch and pulled out his own phone.

How could he bully Tim into bringing (the person who might be) Ladybug over?

He opened up the family group chat.

Idontwantpicturesthatsjustmyname: Guys you will not BELIEVE this

~

Dick rested his head on his hands as he watched Marinette from across the table.

“So, what do you know about Ladybug?”

Her eyes widened slightly. Whether this was because of the suddenness of the question or because he was right he wasn’t sure.

“Subtle,” Jason said sarcastically. He sent Dick a short glare as if to say ‘don’t scare her off we just met her’ and then gave Marinette an apologetic smile. “Sorry, ‘bout that. He’s been obsessed since she appeared, and most of his research has been a dead end. He’s grasping at straws.”

She relaxed and gave a soft laugh. “I’m too klutzy to ever be Ladybug, you can ask anyone.”

Dick tried not to look too skeptical. He’d purposefully surprised her with a rather forceful hug when he’d met her to see how good her balance was when she wasn’t paying attention. She’d had no problem both staying up and supporting their weight.

He couldn’t tell her that, though.

He groaned. “And I don’t suppose you know who it is?”

“Nope.”

And, just like that, the conversation moved on. Damn it, Jason, can’t you relax for a few seconds so he can interrogate her? Ugh.

Still, he smiled at Tim’s expression as Marinette began to explain exactly how they’d met. Even if it annoyed him that he hadn’t gotten any information, no one could ever pass up on the opportunity to mess with their siblings.

~

Jason sent Dick a glare as he pulled on his leather jacket. “You want to what?”

“Do a stakeout!” Dick said brightly. “I’m pretty sure Marinette is Ladybug.”

Tim sighed. “So we’re going to stalk my new friend? Great. Maybe this is why my friendships don’t last.”

“C’mon! It’s not like you even have to go, Tim.”

“And let you guys embarrass me? No thanks.”

“She won’t know --,” Jason said.

Tim sighed and put on his mask. “No. Come on. Dick, you owe me a coffee.”

Dick groaned but nodded. “Fine, I’m paying for snacks. Let’s go.”

~

“For the record, I think you’re stupid,” said Jason as they started to pull themselves up the fire escape.

“Thanks!” Said Dick brightly. “I know I’m right, but thanks!”

Jason laughed quietly. “Suuuure. Wanna bet?”

“Sure. How about 3k?”

He rolled his eyes. “Only 3? Are you really sure?”

Dick scoffed. “Fine. 5k.”

Jason smirked and pulled himself up the last rung and sat himself down on the edge. “Sucker.”

Tim glanced inside and gave sarcastic jazz hands. “Wow. How suspicious. She’s going to sleep.”

“Can’t you guys even pretend to believe me?”

“Nope. You’re insane, dude, the girl probably couldn’t hurt a fly if she wanted to.”

“I know what I saw. That coffee cup was the same one he --” he pointed at Tim “-- brings home all the time. And he saw her get one that day. She’s French and new in town. It’s got to be her.”

Tim sighed. “This feels wrong,” he mumbled. He took a long sip of his drink before continuing: “She’s a civvie, we can’t just watch her.”

“She might be a civvie,” corrected Dick.

His brothers groaned and they all opened their bags of Doritos.

And then Marinette flung the window open and stuck her head out. “Could you guys not do this outside my window?”

Everyone jumped. Tim literally jumped, nearly falling over the side of the fire escape in his surprise. They got into fighting poses on instinct.

Marinette had gone a little pale at the sight of them.

They quickly dropped their guards.

She flashed a weak smile. “Oh, I’m sorry, sirs. I thought you were just guys on my fire escape. You on a stakeout?”

Everyone looked at each other confusedly. Did her accent somehow get worse in the few hours since they met her? Tim looked especially confused by the development.

“Of sorts,” said Red Hood carefully.

She yawned and rubbed her eyes and her accent slipped back towards normal as she spoke: “If you’re staking out, can you…?” She trailed off and her eyes found their way to their Doritos. “Is that really all you’re eating tonight?” She asked, her lips falling into a frown.

The three all looked at each other.

“I mean... yeah, it’s stakeout food,” said Dick.

She clicked her tongue. “C’mon,” she waved them inside and began walking to her kitchen.

They all shrugged as they stepped through her window. What did it matter?

Dick snooped around her apartment with his brothers. He didn’t really know what he was looking for, just evidence that she did anything shady, but really he didn’t know where she’d hide anything. The place was pretty empty.

‘Damn, you live like this?’ He thought, giving her a glance and shaking his head.

His eyes found their way to her bed and he frowned. She’d set up a fake version of herself with pillows and blankets… but hadn’t she made it seem like she’d gone straight from bed to the window? How awake had she really been? And, if she’d been awake, had the accent been faked? Why?

He raised an eyebrow at the real Marinette.

“There were three people outside my window, did you want me not to take precautions?”

He looked away. Fair enough.

He continued looking for anything, but his attempts were fruitless. He would have thrown his hands up in frustration if he didn’t think that would make her suspicious of their true intentions.

Unable to do much else without making it obvious, he wandered over to watch her bake.

~

Dick looked the NightMare outfit up and down.

Ladybug sighed. “What?”

Maybe he could get some information on how her powers worked.

“Why is this outfit more intricate than your normal one?”

Ladybug rolled her eyes. “Because I was intending to make it look like a coincidence that I showed up here right after the Ladybug in Paris defeated Hawkmoth,” she said.

He knew she was lying. He didn’t know how he knew she was lying, maybe it was the cadence of her voice or the fact that she had a tendency to keep them as in the dark about her identity as possible, but she was definitely lying.

But he couldn’t prove it.

So he moved on.

~

She stumbled out of her portal and sent them all a tiny wave. “Salut.”

Dick’s eyes widened and he rushed forward to catch her in case she fell. She didn’t, but he still wrapped her arm around his shoulders to hold her upright. “Christ! What did they do to you?”

"Some sort of tranquilizer,” she mumbled, closing her eyes. “We need to warn the Waynes.”

He tensed and looked at his family, who were anxiously shifting from foot to foot.

“You’re not in any state to do that,” said Bruce, finally.

“I can open a portal.”

A wide smile stretched across his face. Aha! She’d admitted that she had to have been somewhere to open a portal. He had her now! “You’ve been to Wayne Manor?”

She opened an eye just enough to send him a glare. “No, but I’ve been outside it.”

His smile dropped. Damn. That’s a good point. The outside was a pretty popular tourist spot. He sighed.

“You need to get home,” said Tim. “I’ll make sure everyone turns around.”

Dick sent him a slight glare but let go of Ladybug and turned away. As much as he wanted to be right, the idea of watching her stumble into her room while half-awake in order to confirm this made him feel a little sick.

He could figure it out some other time, at least.

~

Jason dropped Ladybug onto the bed and they all scrambled around her.

Dick picked up a knife and started attempting to cut the suit around her wound and a curse slipped from his lips as it attempted to reform itself instantly.

After a few attempts, he reached for Ladybug’s earrings. He hadn’t even really been thinking about her identity, he’d just been frustrated about the apparent inability to help her.

Her hand shot up and grabbed his wrist before he could touch them. She tried to say something but couldn’t talk above the blood gurgling in her mouth.

He pulled his hand from her grip.

‘Fine, but when you die stupidly it’s not my fault,’ he thought.

He went back to attempting to tend to her wounds through her outfit.

~

Listen, just because he hadn’t done that didn’t mean that he didn’t still want to know.

He sent a text to Marinette. He’d check every once in a while to see if she responded, but if it took however long Ladybug was out then he would be right.

~

He stepped into the apartment and was stunned to see that Jason and Tim were already there.

But then he watched Marinette walk over. And she was probably injured, with how hard she was trying to hide her limp. And she clearly knew that he was onto her, otherwise why would she be trying to hide it?

“You’re walking a little weird, are you alright?” He said, a smug grin on his face.

But then Tim came to her rescue. He walked over and slung an arm over her shoulders protectively. “Maybe if you weren’t watching her walk she wouldn’t be overthinking it so much.”

Damn it. He hated it when Tim had a point.

Whatever. At least he’d thought of a plan B. He watched as Marinette’s eyes fell on Robin. She’d never met the vigilante before, so there was no reason why they shouldn’t get along.

And then she was nice to him.

He wanted to kick a wall. Was he actually wrong or was she just aware of what he was doing?

She pulled a bottle of wine from her cupboard. “You guys can all have this, right?”

There, a perfectly acceptable way to be petty. He snatched the drink from her hands. “It doesn’t matter because you can’t drink!”

Marinette raised her eyebrows. “It’s legal in my country.”

“But not in ours! Where you are currently staying! How did you even get your hands on this?”

She shrugged innocently.  “You’re more uptight than my actual mom.”

He scoffed. Rude!

So rude, in fact, that he didn’t realize that she had changed the subject until there was no natural way to come back to it.

He stared at the wine in his hands.

Screw it.

~

Dick glanced at his phone as he received a text.

His eyes lit up at the username. Marinette! Aha! He had her now! It had only been a day since Ladybug was released, surely this was proof --!

Definitelyforgottosleep: lemme in

He frowned. All thoughts of Ladybug were pushed out of his mind at the two words. Was she okay? What had happened?

~

Chloe Bourgeois? Where had he heard that name before?

A frown found its way to his face as he tried to recall this. “I know you.”

“You do?”

He nodded slightly and scratched the back of his head. “Definitely... so where...?”

Marinette looked a little pale. “Don’t all rich people kind of know each other?”

Dick gave a small nod. “I guess...” He said despite being sure that wasn’t it.

She grabbed both of them by their sleeves. “C’moooon. It’s cold out, we can at least do this inside.”

~

Dick watched from a bit away, trying to fight back a grin as Marinette and Cass greeted each other.

“Hi,” Marinette squeaked.

Cass looked Marinette up and down. If anyone could crack this case in two seconds, it was her…

And she did.

“Are you a vigilante?”

He fought the urge to squeal. Yes! Yesyesyesyesyesyes --!

And then Jason appeared out of nowhere to tackle Marinette in a hug.

This couldn’t ruin his good mood, though. Nothing could.

“Cass thinks that Mari could be a vigilante,” said Dick with a cheeky look on his face.

Jason and Marinette tensed slightly and looked at each other.

Then, Cass gave a short laugh. “No, wait, I was wrong. Don’t worry about it, Dick.”

Ah. Nothing could ruin his good mood except for that.

His smile dropped instantly and he groaned. “Dang…”

~

Dick looked between Marinette and Tim with horror. Ladybug had confessed literally hours ago and here he was dating Marinette? What the heck? Sure, they were cute together, but that was just cold. Couldn’t he have waited a few days at least?

It didn’t even occur to him that maybe the whole ‘Ladybug confessing’ thing could be linked.

~

When he’d turned on his comm, he hadn’t expected anything much from it.

“The bug’s been bugged,” said Cass.

“She’s been what?”

“Bugged. Someone bad found out her identity and now she’s got a bug.”

There was a silence as this sunk in.

Then Dick was yelling. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN SOMEONE FOUND OUT HER CIVILIAN IDENTITY?!”

“Damn, Nightwing, didn’t know you cared so much,” said Tim, who sounded a bit on edge.

“WHY DID THEY GET TO KNOW BEFORE ME?!”

“Because everyone gets to know before you,” said Cass calmly. “You’re officially the last to know.”

“IM SORRY?! EVERYONE KNEW?!”

“Yep.”

He couldn’t believe he’d been betrayed like this, especially by his own family.

And so he questioned them.

Tim had apparently figured her out the second day and not said anything about it because ‘her identity clearly matters to her, she didn’t even know I knew it until a little while ago’. Damn him. Dick couldn’t even get mad at him for that.

And then Jason was next. He’d apparently found out when Marinette had gotten shot. He’d given the same reasoning as Tim, which was more than a little suspicious.

Bruce was next. He’d found out on the Wayne Manor cams and hadn’t said anything because he thought everyone already knew. Ouch.

Duke said that he had just found out when Marinette had touched her comm. He got a pass.

And then Cass said she’d found out the moment she’d met the girl. Dick had suspected that, considering the conversation they’d had on Thanksgiving, but then he’d questioned her on why she hadn’t told him and…

“Red Hood and Marinette didn’t want you to know, so.”

Dick was practicing breathing exercises. It didn’t work, though. “WHO IS SHE?!”

He had a strong suspicion he knew, considering Jason had kept the answer from him, but he wanted to hear it directly from someone.

Jason attempted to steer the conversation away: “Hey, so about that bug thing --.”

Whatever attempts to save his wallet he was about to make was ruined by Cass, who simply said: “Marinette.”

Let’s just say Jason was lucky that Dick was against murder.

He was not, however, against cursing him out for the entire family to hear.

~~~

When you have to read 44 chapters of your own fic to answer a prompt--

I probably missed some things, too. I put a lot of little things in

[anthonyed]

I'll keep you warm, stevetony (fluff mayhaps?)

Anon, not gonna lie: I did the prompts in order so the one I did before this were angst and hurt/comfort respectively which made me forgot how to write fluff for a sec. Point is: before I wrote the actual (what I hope) fluff (above cut and some below), I wrote something that leans more to hurt/comfort/soft (some weird genre idk) and I’m including that under the cut just because.

Hope at least one of the below satisfies your fluff need, anon :) (from this list: "I'll keep you warm")

-//-

Steve is something else. 

Well, he's many things in the sense that you see or hear him do that and be like, yeah. That sounds like Steve. 

But then, there are other things he'd do and nobody would buy Tony when he says: "Steve did that! I swear, Pepper, I'm not exaggerating."

Like right now, coming into the workshop wrapped neck down in their comforter which -

"What are you doing?" Tony asks, jaw slack, voice high and airy in disbelief, mouth agape and eyes wide behind his safety goggles. 

Lucky for him, he created JARVIS when he was 21 and had a stroke of brilliance in the middle of an ugly grieving so he doesn't have to suffer a third-degree burn from a hot glue gun today. 

Steve though, he plops in front of Tony with his massive comforter wrapped form and burrows into it deeper, letting only baby blue eyes peek out like a damned mole - Jesus Christ - and he whines, "I'm cold."

Tony's mouth snaps close at one. His eyes narrow and he points the glue-gun at Steve. "You," he says, "You, you, you. I know exactly what you're doing."

But Steve is a stubborn, stubborn man. He makes sure he gets what he wants by the sheer force of his will if that's what he's left to give. Or maybe it's Tony who's a weak dumb man when it comes to Steve.

Either way, Steve purses his lips, bats his lashes and tilts his head at an angle. All the while looking at Tony with those baby blue puppy eyes and that's all it takes for Tony to drop the glue gun and groan into his hands. 

This is not fair! "Jarvis, I need this footage to show Pepper tomorrow morning," he says, standing up. 

Steve straightens up, letting his whole head pop out of the blanket burrito he'd wrapped himself in and Tony makes it a point to chuck his goggles with an extra dose of venom while glaring at him. 

"Captain America, they said. Prime man full of virtues, my ass. This!" he points at Steve's exaggerated innocent face. "This is not virtue. This is playing dirty."

"But I'm not Captain America," Steve grins, dropping the facade as he waddles clumsily behind Tony, marching out of the shop; the extra length of the comforter dragging like a tail behind him. "I'm Steve Rogers, making sure my boyfriend comes to bed on time."

Tony waits until they're inside the elevator to stare him up and down and he lets out a defeated sigh, "Still not fair."

Steve smiles, smug and well - he has a very good reason to be, no shit. "All is fair in love and war," he says, chest puffing out in pride.

"No," Tony draws the line. "You say that one more time and I'm going straight back to the shop."

The effect is instant like he'd flicked a switch and Steve goes from a smug bastard to his faux innocent puppy eyes burrowing into his comforter wrap.

"But I am cold." He mumbles into it, blinking up at Tony. "I need you to warm me up."

And the elevator door opens, but Tony has already made up his mind quicker. "Are you now?" He pouts back, cocking his head sideway, playing into whatever his boyfriend's doing.

But the wiggle to his lips betray his mischievous intent spectacularly and Steve's already one foot out of the elevator by the time Tony lunges for him. 

Super soldier and their super speed: "Come here, you!" Tony calls, breaking into a jog and God forbid, he'd lived close to half a century of his life; Steve even worse, but also not. He's 33 if they're counting out the years he'd spent in the ice. Still old enough to not run but he is; bolting into their shared bedroom like the devil himself is at his tail, chuckles like chiming bells following his path. 

And no, Tony thinks, after the first few feet. He refuses to play chase at this age, but not so much to tickling Steve in the bed once he'd caught up. Asking, "You want me to keep you warm? Huh? Is that what you want? I'll keep you warm. Come here, you big blonde cheat." 

All the while Steve's laughing into the pile of comforter he'd shed as soon as he'd accomplished his mission, twitching with every poke and jab to his flanks.

"Uncle!" He gasps. "Uncle, uncle, uncle!"

And Tony lets him go. Breath heaving as he rolls off of Steve, brushing hair out of his eyes. "You asked for this." He tells his panting boyfriend; red in the face, hair mussed, spilling soft all over his face and he looks so precious that Tony has to just cup his face and smack a kiss on his grinning mouth.

"You win," he admits, rolling out of the bed and peeling off his shirt, letting it fall in a lump on the floor as he walks to the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

"This time!" He shouts back just to make it clear, so Steve doesn't get any wild ideas about fooling Tony again in the future.

He thinks he hears a faint "Every single time," but promptly decides to ignore that. 

-//- vers 2 -//-

“Come here,” Steve says, stretched out in bed looking expectant like everything’s perfect.

Any other time, Tony would have leaped at the chance. He’s never been a guy for picket fences and happy endings but sitting in one of Barton’s kid’s rooms changes perspective. 

If you look out the window, you can see the barn cum garage and Tony’s been there earlier this afternoon, checking on their tractor, speaking with Fury about stuff and he’d came out of there for hours now but there was a thought he had when he was still inside: 

Wood fire is great; Steve could chop the logs and I can work the tractor. We’ll have to discuss who cooks dinner, and there’ll be a kid, a boy running around calling for us, maybe. One day - Maybe.

And that thought’s still swimming in his head. 

The thing is, they’re still raw from battle. Just hours ago, they’d almost had a fight (if not for Mrs Barton) and now, Steve’s here on a single bed pretending like that didn’t happen, calling Tony for a cuddle.

“I’m fine.” He says, turning back to the gauntlet he's fiddling with under a low table lamp, straining his eyes behind his glasses.

It’s late summer but something about the secluded farmhouse in the middle of nowhere makes the wind chiller. And his body responds with a shiver when a draft passes by. He looks up, checks the window and he knows it’s closed tight; he did that a minute ago. 

“Tony,” Steve sighs, sounding closer than before and when he looks up, he’s right; Steve is closer, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed now - Didn’t even hear him move, which is a surprise, so Tony looks at the bed frame, wondering what material it’s made of. 

“Tony,” Steve calls again. Softer.

He looks up. Steve looks weary, but he strains to smile. “Come to bed,” he says. “You need rest.”

And Tony knows he does, but- 

But, he doesn’t deserve to rest. He is the reason why all this happened - is happening - in the first place. He caused this - How can he rest?

He goes back to the gauntlet.

And he forgets just how stubborn Steve is until he feels a hand on his shoulder. Then another lands over his, before he can even turn around, to pry the gauntlet from his fingers. “Come on,” Steve says, pressing the words into his temple.

With one hand, he frees the tiny wrench from Tony’s grip while he holds Tony’s head to his mouth with the other, pressing a kiss and he combs his hair back, leaning away, looking into Tony’s eyes when a shiver wrecks down Tony’s spine.

“It’s kinda cold tonight,” he smiles, soft eyes tempting like whiskey on a lonely evening, “Warm me up?” and Tony has to roll his eyes at that.

“What are you? 12?” he snorts. “Is this how you flirt, because Rogers you better count your lucky stars you landed me for your boyfriend. I let you get away with this. Anyone else, I doubt they will.”

“I got blue eyes and blonde hair,” Steve shrugs and it’s lame; Tony knows what he’s doing, knows it’s working, but it’s not like he’s fighting against Steve’s efforts, anyway.

They’re lame; could be better. But it’s past midnight in some unregistered region on earth and they’re tired from fighting his own creation, tired of arguing; it's a picket fence farm with children and everything feels like fairy dreams here. 

Tony doesn’t do fairy dreams but Steve makes him want to. He makes him think: maybe - one day. 

Maybe that’s why he lets Steve have that satisfaction of pulling him up to his feet and onto the bed.

Maybe that’s why he lets Steve tuck his head under his chin and says, “I’ll keep you warm, super soldier.”

[honney-boy]

Wonder (Part 1)

Rudy Pankow x Oc!Reader

gif by → @riobeth​

Wonder Series Masterlist | Wonder Playlist

Chapter summary:  Rudy and Nevaeh meet in person for the first time and things aren’t awkward. Yougurt cups, bananas and ice blended in a cup and maple syrup.

Full Summary and Story Concept

Warning(s): language, shenanigans, jet laggness, social media zombies, teenage girls

Words: 5k+

A/N:  This is my first attempt at a Rudy fic. My first series too! But if this flops, let's pretend it never happened, okay? :) But If you guys want to read more, please do let me know. Your love and support is the encouragement I need. I got the concept from tik tok haha. Fair warning, I am handwriting out chapters with a pen and paper before converting it digitally, so updates with be spread out. THERE WILL BE GRAMMAR MISTAKES! I'm human, and Tumblr is my test run for this series. Anywho, hope you enjoy :)

taglist

One | “Social Zombies”

            In Nevaeh's opinion, airports were the worst. It wasn't due to the 38,000 feet in the air flying ride or the nothingness in the sky you see your whole flight; it was the people, the airports themselves, and the limited space.

Airports were much worse than flying - especially the San Francisco International Airport. Also known as SFO Airport. The few times, literally very few times, Nevaeh has been to the airport, she had poor experiences. Now, SFO Airport is definitely smaller than LAX and not as busy - it's a nightmare. You would think with a much smaller airport, there would be fewer crowds, but no, it's like a family reunion every day but with strangers. If you bump into the wrong person, your day on the off chance will get ruined.

Along with the busy crowds, there are many places to eat. From pizza to Italian to pie, your choices are endless. That's until half or more restaurants are closed or have long lines. Nevaeh never ate airport food, so she couldn't give her opinion on it. She'll leave that to the professional reviews. She wasn't at SFO Airport to judge the food or traffic flow, not even the staff's attitude - except she already gave a flight attendant a glare. The flight attendant took a bathroom break before their next flight and griped at Nevaeh because she used the last paper towel so they couldn't dry their hands. Air drying is a thing, and it works well, she thought to herself while leaving the restroom. She was not going to let one grumpy flight attendant ruin her great mood. She was going to meet someone who she hopes is special today.

Over the past two months, Nevaeh and this person had gotten to know each other well, virtually, that is. They met online, and Nevaeh lived in San Francisco while they lived in Alaska. Countless messages, facetime calls, photos, and videos were exchanged, and a bond was formed. Who would have thought that two people could meet through a video sharing social media app and hit it off? Most people start with dating apps, meet and get to know different people, but Nevaeh met them all because a video of hers popped up on their for you page.

Nevaeh created and shared a variety of things on the app. From cooking to creating and her little hobby of disco skating. She wanted to keep her followers and supporters entertained and herself; she didn’t want to be stuck, making the same content, so she did many things. Nevaeh thought maybe one of her disco skating, videography, or cooking videos drew them in, but it was one of her mini vlogs. In the video, she showed how she would scout places before spending the day getting footage for a short montage film or scenes for a movie she is working on. Not long after the discovery, they - he sent her a message asking about a more in-depth explanation of her process, and it went up from there.

Now, after all this time of them chatting back and forth, they get to meet. Nevaeh gets to meet him. 

Standing by the arrival gate, her eyes bouncing around the room at different things just to keep her mind centered and not all over the place. She wanted to pick at her nails, or hold her hands to her chest but she couldn’t hold them in place for long; she opted for playing with the white beaded bracelet he bought and sent to her in a box full of other things. It was so sweet of him; just thinking about the box she received makes her smile and her heart swell. Just last week she received a box full of thoughtful gifts. Inside were some of her favorite snacks, a movie she loved, one of his hoodies - it was the hoodie he wore the first time they facetimed. The hoodie was one of his favorites, but he had the urge to send it to her, he just wanted her to have it. And finally was the white beaded bracelet with a single aqua blue bead on it - he had the matching one with all aqua beads and one single black bead. She was having an uncreative and pretty shitty day until that box arrived on the front door step of her shared apartment.

“I wanted to surprise you, so I messaged Birdie asking her for your favorite snacks, I added the hoodie and got the two of us distance bracelets. You know, because we are long distance.” He told her later that day when they talked on the phone.

“Until you come here, or I go there,” she replied. She hasn’t stopped wearing the hoodies since and she has had the bracelet on since the moment she got it.

Nevaeh watched different people walk past her; none of them were him yet. The dirty blond mess he sported for hair shouldn't be that hard to miss, but the longer she searched, the more she doubted her assumption. 

It was another couple of minutes that went by, and she didn't see him, so she pulled her phone out to see if he had sent something. Maybe he has to catch a different flight, and he forgot to tell her, or perhaps he didn't want to meet after all. Her fingers type out a message to send, but a figure stands in front of her before she hits the send button. Nevaeh could see the shadow of their body from her peripheral vision, but she did not look up, hoping they would go away - but they didn't. Sending her message, the woman was preparing to turn away until she heard the stranger's phone go off. It's just a coincidence that their phone went off a couple of seconds after I sent a message. She said to herself, then she looked up and there he was. Dirty blond hair - a little long all over, but instead of it being in his face like it always is, it was pushed back and tucked underneath a red cap. His eyes were more lovely in person. The pair ranged from a light blue to gray, depending on the day. Today they were light blue. He sported stubble across his chin and cheeks with a blond mustache above his top lip. He wore nothing flashy, just a simple red ACDC sweatshirt, cargo shorts, and a pair of vans. He looked tired, but that didn't throw off the good vibes and smile he had going on. She couldn't help but smile back. He's here in the flesh. Rudy.

"Hi," he said light-heartedly, breaking the silence.

"Hi," she echoed; the smile on her face grew some more. "Wow, you're really here in the flesh."

He chuckled, and the sound woke up the butterflies in her stomach. "Yeah, I am. And you...the pictures and videos don't do enough justice for the actual thing." His eyes scan over her, noticing the navy blue Hilfiger sweatshirt he sent to her. Nevaeh couldn't help the dust of blush that appeared on her cheek.

“Talk about me, what about you? Who knew those Snapchat filters were hiding such a god-like person.”

“Oh, stop, you’re making me blush,” he joked while bashful. No matter online or in person, Nevaeh was still able to get him flushed; it was something he didn’t want to admit, not while he was flying blind with this.

Nevaeh smiled and had a tiny giggle; the full laugh was muffled by the hand she brought up to her mouth in an attempt to hold the sound back. He could watch her smile for a while. Is that weird? “How was your flight? I hope it wasn’t too horrible.”

“It wasn’t too bad,” he admitted. “Definitely long, but nothing a pair of earbuds, music, and a couple of movies couldn’t fix.” The two quickly began walking toward the direction of baggage claim. More of Rudy just following whichever direction Nevaeh was going. She did know the airport better anyway.

“Which movies did you watch?” she asked.

“Since I had six hours to waste - Joker, 1917 and Pride & Prejudice.”

“Oh, I see you listened to my suggestions; not surprised you watched Joker again,” Rudy shrugged his shoulders with a hum. “I’m surprised you didn’t watch the Harry Potter movies.”

Rudy rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Actually, I already watched them a couple of days ago,” Nevaeh hummed as if she were to say, ‘of course’ “You can judge me all you want. I won’t pay you any mind. Just the same as I did with the guy that had the aisle seat in my row. I guess other guys find it weird that a guy decided to watch a period drama on a flight.”

“He was just jealous he didn’t think of it first. Mr. Darcy’s pinning for Miss. Bennett and the film’s  overarching theme is too good not to watch.”

“That it is, who would want to miss the warnings heeded against trusting one’s first impression or prejudices?”

“Or the character arcs that grow throughout the storyline. I pity that aisle sitting man.”

“I do too,” Rudy agreed. “He missed out on a classic and had to get up to let the other person and me out to take a tinkle.” He did it again. He made her laugh genuinely. The conversation between them flowed. The small worry Nevaeh had earlier about the two of them not being able to continue the light-hearted and enjoyable nature they had over text had diminished. He seemed just the same - goofy, charismatic, charming, and caring - as he was over the phone the past month and a half. She, too, was still kind, compassionate, and sarcastic as before. Yet both of them had their own doubts about the thing they were doing; they didn’t know what it was or where it was headed, but they were willing to find out.

           In the car, Nevaeh drove the route she knew from the airport to her shared apartment. Rudy sat in the passenger seat; his gaze focused out the window, watching the San Francisco scenery appear, disappear and morph as they passed by the window. The radio played while they sat in a comfortable silence - it impressed her how easily they fell into it. Wasn't it common for an uncomfortable silence? Two people who just met for the first time should struggle in an attempt to make a conversation, but not them.

To Rudy, the comfortable silence was almost expected. Granted, he did expect one of them to talk the other's ear off - he's glad neither of them was. The six-hour flight took its effect on the man, but he wasn't going to let his fatigue ruin the time they had together. He'll rest later. Spend time with her now, sleep later.

The car rolled to a stop, a red light shined on the traffic light hanging in front of them. Rudy's eyes watch a girl across the street riding down the sidewalk on a skateboard. Her stance relaxed, feet planted in a way that helped her ride easily; she was experienced, probably skated regularly. Watching her skate triggered a longing in Rudy for his board back at home. He rides on concrete and in the snow, but he was missing snowboarding the most. It was beginning to be summer, so the temperatures in Alaska were warmer. To warm for snow but warm enough for the evergreen to take over. Now he was in California, the state that was sunny all the time. The state that thrived in the summer and its soil hardly ever to never had the chilled touch of snow. His longing grew more for the chilly weather and white flakes.

The woman sitting next to him took the next couple of seconds between the light change to look at him. Catching the moment of his gaze out the window of her jeep. "I know you're probably tired from your flight. I had some ideas about the things we could do, but we don't have to do anything today." She spoke and after, glanced at the traffic light only to see it was still red.

Rudy tore his gaze from the distant image of the skater and met Nevaeh's. "I am, but if you want to do something, we can. I'm more than happy to hang out." He said.

Trying to reason, she said, "I know, but you just got off a six-hour flight." 

"Nevaeh, it's fine. I'm not that burned out. Time zones are an hour apart, and seven am isn't that bad." she begins to give him a skeptical look. She heard his words but feels as if he was only saying that to make her happy. He sat by her, leaned back, and relaxed. His head sat lazily against the headrest, and the smile he was giving her was light but tiresome. She switched her gaze from him to the traffic light, which turned green, and she didn't know when. Nevaeh eased her foot off the brake and to the gas pedal. "Seriously, we can do something."

“Fine,” She says after a moment. “I won’t wear you out too much more.” Flicking her left turn signal on after checking her mirror, she merges into the lane beside her. “There’s somewhere I wanna take you - well, maybe two places, but we’re going to the apartment first.”

“Alright, sounds good to me.” Nevaeh drove them to the apartment she shared with her long term friend. Rudy followed behind her as she led the way; they only spent a few minutes there. After a short tour, a bathroom break, and dropping off a couple of suitcases later, Rudy and Nevaeh left the place. They began a walk along the San Francisco hills to the mysterious place Nevaeh had in mind.

“This place is somewhere I walk to every other day. It’s Birdie’s and my favorite place.” It was a short six to eight-minute walk. Nevaeh reassured him before briefly going into a conversation about the impressive things you see in the city. Just like Nevaeh told him, they both come up upon a corner shop with a couple of large windows to see inside and out, a brown exterior with outside tables with green umbrellas and foldable outdoor chairs. The corner shop was known as the Nasik Cafe. For a small cafe, the place was doing well. There were a handful of people inside sitting, chatting, or ordering and quite a few sitting outside.

“This place is pretty health-oriented, and like Starbucks, it has things you could make at home for free, but their stuff is great,” Nevaeh explained to the man.

"So you spend way too much on yogurt cups, fruit drinks, toast, and other food you can make at home?" She nods her head like it was evident at what he said. Rudy shook his head. "Couldn't you just spend ten dollars on a yogurt cup?"

"Oh my goodness, they don't have yogurt cups, Rudy." She shook her head in disbelief.

"Okay, so ten dollars for a banana blended with ice in a cup - still sounds ridiculous to me."

"I can't with you," She tilted her head back, but she wasn't annoyed. She found his witticism amusing. At this rate, Nevaeh should prepare to always smile all the time around him. "You should find a table out here, and I can grab us something - wait, do you want to sit out here?"

Rudy nodded, then began to scan the area but only briefly seeing a couple of empty tables. "Yeah, it's nice out, let's enjoy it. Out here is great."

"Great," she says, pleased. "I'll grab something; I wanna surprise you. I'll be back." Nevaeh turns to walk inside. The smell of strawberries, oranges, and granola invaded her nose. It wasn't a new smell to her, but a new one for the day. She would always smell fruit and granola wherever she would walk into Basik. Some days it smelt like bananas and chocolate, or honey, peanut butter, and coconut. The smells varied, but the most prominent one was the tropical smell. To her left at a table was a couple enjoying smoothies. Both cops were a little under half full. A person sat at another table, invested in their laptop. To her right, more people sat. Art adorns the walls as realism paintings along with abstract images. There was a line at the counter; no more than four people stood waiting. She took the time to look up at the big and wide wood board hanging from the ceiling. When Nevaeh told Rudy she wanted to surprise him with something, she knew what she was getting for the both of them. The colorful and fruitful acai bowls.

Nevaeh and her roommate Birdie loved acai bowls. Birdie was the one to introduce her friend to the fantastic bowls she grew to love. Now it was her turn to turn another friend onto them.

The line moved along smoothly and grew smaller by the minutes. Once Nevaeh got closer, her lips stretched into a grin as her eyes caught sight of the barista.

"Hi, what can I get you? Could I interest you in our new fall to-Vae! Hey." the blonde barista's mood brightened significantly when she realized she was taking Nevaeh's order. She leaned across the counter and grabbed hold of Nevaeh's hand, and laced their fingers together. "What are you doing here? I thought you had to pick up your friend." She said, then making finger quotations. The barista was her roommate, Birdie. Birdie was a full-time college student and full-time barista to get by. She was more than happy to talk to her friend now that she wasn't as busy - Nevaeh was the only person in line for now.

"I was - I did pick up my friend. No air quotes, we're friends."

"For now."

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes at the blonde. "He's here with me, just outside." Birdie looked past Nevaeh and out the window in search of this guy. Nevaeh looked around for him, too; she didn't get to see where he chose to sit. "He's...the one with the red cap, right there." She pointed out once she spotted him. Birdie hummed and squinted her eyes to get a better look, which was difficult with the angle he sat at.

"He looks nice...from here," Birdie leaned back, so her fingers could let go of Nevaeh's and tap the terminal screen as she put her friend's usual order in. While Birdie did that, Nevaeh nodded in agreement but kept her gaze on him. "Lemme guess, the usual?"

"Kilauea; everything but-"

"No pollen and extra honey." Birdie finished with assuredness and not a drop of doubt in her answer. Her friend smiled, her eyes looking to Birdie with amazement.

"You know me too well."

"Well, you order the same thing almost every time."

"Touche," she couldn't argue with that. When it came to her acai bowl, she liked the Kilauea - made with mango juice, granola, berries, papaya, honey, and acai - the best. "And water, of course - make that two." She stepped back to look over the menu. Rudy wasn't familiar with the place, and he didn't know what they served, so Nevaeh wanted to get him something he hopefully liked. She decided to go with something not too fancy - directing her attention back to her barista friend. She went ahead and finished her order. "And...let me get the Islander acai bowl." That one was made with hemp mylk, granola, banana, berries, cocoa shavings, and honey.

Birdie rang up the rest of the order for Nevaeh. After catching a glimpse at the total, Nevaeh reached in the little card pocket of her wallet and grabbed her card. Unbeknownst to her, while she was getting her card, Birdie took her name tag and gave her friend her employee discount - she got it for half the price.

“I know you’re an independent woman and paying for the first date, the least I could do is give you a discount. Just don’t tell Daniel.” She winked, and Nevaeh gave her a thumbs up with one hand, and with the other, she made a zipping and locking motion over her mouth before throwing the key.

Outside, Rudy sat at the table he picked out for the two of them while waiting. While Nevaeh ran inside to get their order, he observed the small San Francisco scenery around him. California weather was sunshine with fluffy clouds. Just about everyone was either in shorts, a tank, and a cut-off shirt or any other summer clothing that provided them some comfort in the blazing sun. He dressed just right for the weather, though in Alaska, it was more on the chill side, causing him to wear a sweatshirt while he left. Now that he was basking in the California weather, he took off the warm sweatshirt and left it at Nevaeh’s apartment.

There were other people outside along with him. A group of girls sat a few feet away at a table in front of him, trying not to giggle as they attempted to make a video. At another table, there were two guys, perhaps brothers. They were eating something colorful from a bowl - it looked like yogurt to Rudy - and having a conversation with one another.

Rudy shook his head at the drastic difference between the two tables. Maybe it was just him, but it was amazing how much the world - more specifically America- was wrapped up in technology and social media. Sure the brothers at the one table had digital watches that told them the time and lit up, catching their attention with a vibrate when a text or notification went to their phone. But at least they could carry on a conversation without having their phone in their hands. On the other hand, those girls haven’t put their phones down longer than a few seconds. After those seconds, they tap away or show the other something they thought was worthy enough to gauge a reaction out of them.

Rudy wasn't one to judge. He didn't have much right to because while watching them and waiting for Nevaeh, he had the urge to pull out his phone. It was almost like a habit, but he chooses not to feed the temptation. He wanted to enjoy the day with Nevaeh; notice the burn on his skin from the sun, get to know her, have fun, pick up on little cues she has, and find out what he likes the most about her. And though it was kind of ironic that the two of them met through social media, he hopes Nevaeh is not one of those social zombies. Then this trip would be a waste of time and effort.

Ruby pulled his sunglasses down due to the sun starting to bother his eyes. Then he also wanted to cover his eyes and focus on something else while he waited. A minute later, Nevaeh walked out of the cafe's door backward with her back pushing the door open. In her hands, she had what she ordered; he wondered what she got. Rudy briskly stood up out of his seat to help her out.

"Hey, let me help you out," he walks around the table towards her, but she only nods him off.

"I got it, you sit."

"You have all the food and drinks in your hands; it's the least I can do." he stood off to the side, not interfering but reading despite what she said. He watches her struggle a bit and almost drops the stuff. Rudy immediately reached out, but Nevaeh had already saved herself and looked at him with a smile.

"I got it, Rudy. I was just pulling your leg." He picked up on the playfulness in her eyes, which made him pull his lips into a smile matching hers; her smile is definitely contagious.

“Alright, alright,” he raised his hands, backing away and then taking his seat. Nevaeh took her seat across from him, sat everything down before passing him the items she got him. “What’d you get us?”

“Well, I don’t know if you have had this before, but it’s my go-to thing to get here. It’s an acai bowl,” Nevaeh’s eyes caught his confused expression before he tried to cover it up with an understanding.  She laughed softly and explained further. “It’s like a smoothie bowl with other things in it.”

“Smoothie bowl…” he murmured more to himself, but she still heard it.

Shaking her head, she continued. “Acai palm is the main ingredient along with bananas and granola, but you can add other fruits or peanut butter and syrups. Or take things off.”

“Like maple syrup?” he asked, looking at the acai bowl she got him.

Her face begins to twist in disgust until she covers it with a shrug and looks down at her bowl, ready to dig in. “Uh, I guess if that’s what you want, then yeah.” She answered, and Rudy nodded his head and grabbed his spoon to take a taste. Before Nevaeh tasted her own, she watched Rudy, waiting for his reaction. He took a bite, letting the flavor invade his taste buds.

“Wow, this is good,” He says after swallowing. He glanced up, catching Nevaeh already looking at him. She quickly looked away and stirred her bowl.

“I’m glad you like it; it’s my second favorite one,” she peeked back up, and Rudy was still looking at her. Laughing softly to herself, then shaking her head, she takes a bite of her own, almost moaning at the taste. “I’m surprised you haven’t had one before.”

“ I have wanted to try one, but never really went with actually going out to get one.”

“Well, maybe now you will get them more often,” She says but stops herself before taking another bite. “Wait...you aren’t allergic to any fruit, are you? Or granola?”

He lifted a brow while getting another scoop. “Oh, only bananas,” He replies. Nevaeh watches him as he lifts the spoon to his mouth and takes another bite that includes bananas before she could reach across the table and stop him in time. “What?” he looked at her. Her eyes were wide with shock and fear, her mouth opening to say something but closed when nothing came out. “Is there something wrong?”

Nodding her head slowly, she sat down her spoon and reached for her phone in her pocket just in case. "You ate a banana, and you just told me you were allergic to them." Nevaeh wanted to yell at him for being so careless, but that would mean she was too for not asking before ordering something random for him. She pretended to remain calm but was internally panicking.

"I actually eat them all the time," he held back the smile easing its way into his features. "I eat them quite often. They're a great source of potassium and vitamin C."

"So you aren't allergic to bananas?" she noted, and Rudy shook his head. His mouth broke out into the smile he managed to hold back for a few seconds. Nevaeh relaxed a bit, her shoulders dropping as she was no longer tense. "You're an asshole, you know that, right?" Rudy gasped softly, a hand placed on his chest as he looked at her, offended at her comment.

"What, me, an asshole? That can't be right, I'm really nice," he said and made Nevaeh huffed. "What do you not believe me?"

The woman shrugged, the smile still on her face when she looked down at her food. "Well, you did play a mean joke just now; I thought I almost killed you." She reminded him and picked at her bowl.

"I wanted to see how caring you were, and you passed the test. Now you love me, don't you?"

"You wish," she said, taking a bite then pointing at him with her spoon. "We're going on a road trip together, let's see if I survive that, then I'll let you know if I like you enough to be your friend or jump out of a moving car because you're an annoying little shit."

Rudy raised his eyebrows, smirking at her now. "Me being an annoying little...alright. Let's make a deal," he starts; Nevaeh gestures for him to continue. "If you survive this road trip, meaning - if you have a great time - I get to take you to my home town in Alaska. Ah, ah. I'm not finished." he held his finger up to stop her from making a comment. She rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair, attempting to hide a simple, but you could see the amusement on her face. "If you don't have a great time, I'll do whatever you want."

"So, If I understand right, If you win, you get to take me to Alaska - assuming I haven't been there already,"

“Wait, you’ve been to Alaska?” Nevaeh held her finger up, echoing his movements moments before.

“If you win, you take me to Alaska, and if I win, you do whatever I want, correct?”

“Yeah, as long as it’s not too inappropriate or impossible,” He says, already finished with his acai bowl, which Nevaeh didn’t remember seeing him eat the rest. It didn’t matter when he ate it, she didn’t care, but that was quick. Looking down at her own, she wasn’t more than halfway done. “So, so we have a deal?”

Nevaeh looked up from her food, meeting his ocean-like eyes. The pair were becoming more familiar over the past few weeks from countless photos and videos the two have shared over Snapchat. Messages over text and facetime calls. They got to know each other digitally, and now they have to learn more in person. 

“We have a deal.” She says, and Rudy sticks his hand out, which she gladly took. They shook hands. While doing so, Rudy thought of a million possibilities to get the woman across from him to a great time and not just so he could take her to Alaska, his home. He found her intriguing, and he wants to take the time to get to know her better and maybe have a solid standing friendship at the end of it all. If the cosmos had a say, perhaps something more would blossom.

➣ End Note:

So, I honestly don’t know how the next few or future chapters will go but hopefully they turn out well. Here are the Revaeh interactions we all needed and plenty more to come so just you wait. ;)

AGAIN IF YOU WANT ME TO CONTINUE THE SERIES I WILL, JUST LET ME KNOW.

Wonder Taglist:

@Scooby6, @ifilwtmfc​, @rudypankowswife​, @themaddies-obx​

[If your username is bold and slashed out it means i can’t tag you. If you want to be added to the taglist add yourself here! If you no longer want to be on it let me know. :) ]

[allegra-writes]

"Sunflower vol. 1"

Peter Parker x Reader

General audiences

Warnings: none

Series masterlist

Just a little drabble in the "Fine line" verse. This takes place before "Lights up" so you don't need to have read that first. Much like Sharon Carter in CATWS you're an undercover agent assigned to protect Peter. This is what happened the first time you met 🌻

He was... Cute. Normal. Unassuming. That was your first thought as your eyes found him in the crowded classroom. You could see the poorly hidden muscles under his ill fitting plaid shirt and dark hoodie, but the untrained eyes of his schoolmates were probably oblivious to them. He made a face at something a dark haired boy was saying and for a split second you saw the sassy Spider-Man from your footage but it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. 

"Ok, Y/n… let's see where we can put you" The teacher, Mr. Warren, you reminded yourself, scanned the room for an empty seat, "Ah, there, you can sit next to Mr. Davies over there" 

"Can I sit next to Peter?" You interrupted the guy, making it sound like Peter Parker was your friend already. Director Fury had been clear: You were to keep a close eye on Parker, befriend him, protect him… and report his every movement back to him. And you couldn't very well do that from half a room away.

"I want you to be his shadow, his bestie, his freaking conjoined twin. If that boy sneezes, I want to know. If he tweets something, I want to know. If he makes a bad taste joke, I want to know" Fury had told you, pinning you with an intense look, "This isn't just a surveillance mission, I want a full on personality profile. Stark left him a way too powerful weapon, I'm not taking any chances, I need to know if he can be trusted with it before Mr. Hogan hands it to him"  

"A weapon?" You snorted, "What, Dumbledore left him Gryffindor's sword?" 

Hill scoffed in annoyance, but Fury smirked.

"See? That right there, agent, is why it has to be you, you speak the language"

"What language?" 

"The same Stark used to speak," The director clarified, "the one Parker still does..."

"With Peter? Why?" The teacher's sceptic voice brought you back to the present. You lowered your gaze, trying to appear suddenly shy. It seemed to work because Mr. Warren's eyes widened in surprise, "Oh...oh! Parker? Really?" 

God, what was wrong with everyone in this school? How come all the girls (and some of the guys) weren't crushing on Peter Parker? Were they blind or something? The teacher shrugged, 

"To each their own I guess… Mr. Parker" he called out, "Make room on your station, you have a new lab partner" 

Peter looked up, visibly startled. His deer-in-the-headlights face was adorable, and you genuinely smiled as you took your seat beside him. His cheeks turned pink.

"Hi, I'm y/n"

"Pa-arker. Pe- peter," his blush deepened, "Parker. I'm Peter Parker" he wanted to punch himself in the face. Why did he have to be such a loser? But you just smiled brighter,

"Hello, Peter Parker"

…

Peter was trying to keep his mouth shut, less he made a fool of himself again. Mr Warren was droning on about something in front of the whiteboard but he couldn't get himself to listen, you were just too distracting. And it wasn't even as if you were doing anything to attract his attention, you had long ago given up your attempts at conversation after one too many monosyllabic replies, and were currently doodling on your notebook. 

"You're not paying attention" He kicked himself internally, that sounded like an accusation. But far from offended, you simply smiled again.

"Nah, I already know everything about sunflowers. Here, let me show you" You turned his forearm on the table, rolling up his sleeve. The soft tip of your pen tickled his skin as you started to draw on the inside of his wrist, "The petals around the outside, are called ray florets. And the ones on the center of the flower… " He almost giggled as you started filling the center with a million little dots, "are actually hundreds of tiny flowers called disc florets. Some are male flowers, some are female, that's why they can self reproduce"

The word 'reproduce' shouldn't have sent a tingle down his lower abdomen, he knew that.

"You mean self-pollinate?" 

"Yeah, that…" you murmured, suddenly noticing how close you had leaned towards each other.

Peter cleared his throat,

"So… are they like, your favorite flower or something?"

"Damn right they are!" You laughed, the spell broken "They're badass: They are awesome painkillers when you're out in the field. And did you know they can remove heavy metals, and even radiation from contaminated soil? People planted millions of them in Sokovia after, well, you know…"

Peter frowned in confusion,

"Out in the field?"

Fuck! You had really said that. What a rookie mistake to make! But something about Peter just made you let your guard down.

"Yeah, like, in a sunflower field in the middle of nowhere." You scrambled to cover up, "Once I got lost in one while visiting my grandma, in… Kansas. Yeah, in Kansas. Twisted my ankle real bad, spent the whole night there actually"

Kansas? Try Argentina. It also had been a little worse than a sprained ankle. And you had spend days there, on the run after a mission gone wrong. Hadn't been for the flowers you would have starved to death.

The bell rang just as you were finishing your drawing, complete with a path of ants and everything. 

"You should text me sometime, I'm on Telegram" You said, grabbing your backpack and practically running out of the class. Peter looked down at his arm. Upon closer inspection, the ants were minuscule numbers. A huge, dazzled smile broke on his face. He dug out his phone, entering your number before it could get smudge or erased or something. On the contact name, he entered a single emoji: A bright yellow sunflower. 

To be continued...

[yet-another-fan-girl9]

Inhuman (1)

Summary: All beings in the universe have a soulmate except for Midgardians. People can hear their soulmate in their heads. For almost five hundred and fifty years, Loki believed that he had no soulmate until 1513 when a Midgardian princess was born. Will fate be kind to them or will the universe tear them apart?

Warnings: violence, language, hella historical inaccuracies (I tried to do research but then got lazy), maybe some AOS season 2 spoilers(?)

Word Count: ~3400

A/N: Yay! The re-write is here! I changed it so now there are flashbacks and stuff and the chapters are longer! I’m also posting this chapter a day early because of reasons. Anyways, enjoy!

[New York, New York, March 2024]

‘Soulmates?’ You had never heard of the concept.

‘We are destined to be together. The universe made it so.’

You shot up in bed, a light sheen of sweat covered your body. Loki’s words replayed over and over in your head. You hadn’t heard his actual voice in so long but it was still as clear as if he was speaking to you now. It had been twelve years since you had seen him in Germany and he had tried to take over.

‘We are destined to be together.’

The words echoed in your mind. ‘Destined’ huh? Well, if you’d learned anything from the past four hundred and eighty-six years that you were not with Loki, it’s that the universe does a shit job at keeping you together. You ran your fingers through your hair, easily smoothing out the tangled mess. It was too early to think about Loki.

You slipped out of the silk sheets that covered your king-sized bed in your two-level, top floor Upper East Side penthouse. You were very proud of how far you had come. The view was amazing. You could see some of Central Park from one side and the stereotypical New York skyline from another.

As you walked out of your room, you caught your reflection in one of your full-sized mirrors. And that was definitely a nice view. When you came out of Terrigenesis almost five hundred years ago, you quickly discovered that you were now the blueprint for a perfect person. Straight, white teeth, surprisingly tameable hair, and clear, unblemished skin were some of the visually obvious changes. In addition to your perfected looks, you had increased senses, healing, strength, endurance, and your favorite, pain tolerance. Oh, and don’t forget you basically look twenty-five forever.

You checked your phone while you made breakfast in the kitchen downstairs. There were a couple of emails from your employees on their latest jobs. You opened one from Max, your right-hand man. You were reading over some job offers he had handpicked for you when you got a text from the man himself.

Bringing up some donuts!

Max was the only person from work to have access to your penthouse. He was your best friend. The two of you had met when you were at Afterlife nearly fifteen years ago. He was an Inhuman as well. All of your employees were Inhumans, using their specialties to carry out their jobs. Max had the power to change surfaces. It was a strange power, but he had learned to make it very useful. He could cause his pursuers to slip on the suddenly ice-like ground or climb up a glass skyscraper.

“Hello, bitch! I brought donuts!” Max called from the elevator.

“I’m in the kitchen!”

Max walked in holding the goods. He always wore eccentric color-coordinated outfits. Even the times you saw him in stealth mode, he had to have some lace or frill somewhere. Today he wore a mixture of neon green and pink with matching eyeliner.

“Are Cosmo and Wanda disguising themselves as your clothes?” you asked.

“Haha,” he deadpanned. “I knew you were going to say something like that. You’re so fucking funny. Soo…” He plopped the three large donut boxes onto your kitchen counter. “Have you heard of the Avenger’s new quote-unquote recruit?”

“Um, I think it’s your job to keep tabs on heroes.” You opened the nearest box and happily pulled out your favorite donut.

“Okay. Number one: I’m not speaking to you as your right-hand, right now, but as your friend.” He held up his finger. “Number two: it’s not really a job if I do it in my free time anyways. You’re paying me to do something that I do on an hourly basis.”

“You stalk the Avengers on an hourly basis?”

“No? Anyways, number three: it’s Thor’s brother. It’s your Loki.”

“What the fuck?” you choke on your donut. Max was the only person who knew you that you and Loki had a history. And that’s all he knew. Nothing about soulmates or all that shit. “What the fuck, Max? Did you try to use donuts to soften the blow? Stop laughing.”

“I-I wish I had caught that reaction on camera,” he said in between fits of giggles.

“Haha,” it was your turn to deadpan. “Fuck, man. I guess we just have to double our efforts to keep ourselves off of their radar.”

“Do you think they’ve forgiven him for New York?” Max composed himself.

“I mean, they must have if they’re letting him join the team.” You chanced another bite of your donut.

“But lots of people haven’t.”

“Lots of people still haven’t forgiven Barnes,” you pointed out. You didn’t know when or why Loki had attacked New York. That Loki was nothing like the man who you had grown to love back in the 1500s. But you were nothing like that girl either.

 “Have you chosen a new job from the list I sent you?” he changed the subject.

“No, not yet, and you have a little…” you motioned to the corner of your mouth.

Max got the hint and wiped some powder off of his mouth. You noticed the sprinkling of grey that was mixed into his curly black hair. He displayed the last fifteen years proudly while you remained unchanged. Max was the closest you’ve been to someone in a long time, and just like everyone before him, you would outlive him. But you would remember him. You remembered everyone. You remembered everything.

Right now, you thought of Agnes, your first real friend. She was your handmaiden and you had met right before everything went to shit. She had helped you cope after you underwent Terrigenesis, although you hadn’t known what it was back then. She had helped you run away and even died for you. You had only known her for nine years, but you compared everyone to her. Max held second place, right after Agnes.

“I think we should take the Senator’s offer,” Max said, jolting you out of your memories. He pulled up the offer on his iPad. “One million to off his upcoming competition.”

“Damn,” you whistled. “He’s desperate, isn’t he? Is there a deadline?”

“No, but I assume we should get it done quickly.”

“Send over the info.”

🌹

You shoved the flower into Jake Morano’s mouth. Blood from the bullet wound in his forehead trickled down until it turned the perfect, white rose red. You snapped a quick photo on your burner phone to send to the Senator as confirmation. With a huff, you looked around the apartment. Mr. Anderson had put up a fight, although it didn’t do anything to deter you and Max. A few glass awards were in pieces on the hardwood floor, family pictures were shattered, and the wall behind you held a couple of bullets from Anderson’s gun.

“All good?” Max asked from his location by the computer. He was deleting all footage of you being there. And everything else, just to be safe.

“Yep.” You walked over to him, your boots making a satisfying clicking on the ground, and proudly displayed the picture of the dead body. “Got the confirmation picture for the Senator. How’s it coming?”

“Almost… there. We’re good to go.”

The two of you left in your favorite black Lamborghini. Unfortunately, you actually had to drive places now that Gordon was dead. You followed his advice, though, and bought a plane along with four other sports cars, a helicopter, and a couple of motorcycles. You knew how to operate every single one of them. What else were you supposed to do except for establishing your contract killing empire?

🌹

Loki stood in the middle of his assigned room with his hands on his hips. It certainly was much nicer than the last prison the Avengers had kept him in. They may say it wasn’t a prison but the twenty-four-hour surveillance from Stark’s new AI said otherwise. Even though it was nicer than the shitty glass cylinder from twelve years ago, it was empty. Thor had shown Loki the few things in his room: books, photographs, and his own goddamned merchandise. 

Would Loki have his own merchandise one day? Everyone was redeemable as shown by Romanoff and Barnes. Maybe there would be plastic replicas of his helmet? No, Loki thought that was stupid. Only heroes got merchandise and heroes had to show up to events and sponsor health drinks or whatever the fuck they do. Heroes had to be nice.

Nothing good ever came from being on Midgard. Most recently, there was his father dying, although what followed was worse. Before that was the attack he had been forced to make on the city. And the first time he had ever come to Midgard had ended with disappointment and heartbreak.

Loki sighed and waved his hand to conjure green and gold accents, sheets, and blankets. At least there was color in the room now. No doubt the AI had reported that he had used his magic. He hoped it had also told them that all he did was improve the room, he didn’t need anyone talking to him at the moment.

“Good afternoon, Reindeer Games,” the AI echoed through the room. Loki glowered at the sound of Stark’s nickname. “There is a meeting in Conference Room Five that the entire team is required to attend.”

Loki hadn’t the faintest fucking idea where the conference rooms were. He left his room and caught sight of his brother and the Valkyrie. The God of Mischief followed the pair down to where the meeting was taking place. Did he really want to go? If he wanted to be part of the team he would have to. He preferred the Revengers, though. While it had lasted. It was smaller.

Everyone was sitting around the long table. Of course, Loki would be the last to arrive. Stark and Barton both glared at him when he entered. Understandable. Romanoff remained impassive, but Loki knew she would bash his head in the first chance she got. Rogers had to remain positive that Loki could be redeemed because if the Norse God could redeem himself, then so could Barnes. Bruce had warmed up to Loki on the journey to Midgard. None of the newer members of the team outright hated him, but they were still cautious around him.

Loki found himself sitting in between his brother and Bruce. Stark went up to the screen at the front and everyone fell silent.

“This is Jake Morano.” The screen turned on to show a dead man with a rose stuffed in his mouth. “He was going to run for Senator against this guy.” The screen changed. “This guy is William Anderson, a very corrupt Senator. In the last month, Morano began to gain a lot of support including a sponsor from us. Well, a sponsor from me in the name of the Avengers.”

“Are you implying that Anderson killed Morano?” Rogers asked.

“I’m saying that Anderson hired someone to kill Morano.” The screen changed again to display multiple bodies left with a rose in their mouths. “I had F.R.I.D.A.Y. do a quick search of bodies with roses found in their mouths and we found a shocking amount of similar deaths. The first ones dating back to the nineteen twenties. More recently, some of the deaths have happened at the same time on opposite sides of the globe. Deaths include, but are not limited to, shooting, stabbing, poisoning, drowning, burning, missing organs, being found stuck in a wall, and looking like a suicide. They all have a white rose soaked in blood in their mouths.”

“Are you sure it isn’t a serial killer?” Wilson questioned.

“Yeah, it’s probably not the same guy,” Romanoff pointed out. “Especially if it goes back to before Steve looked like that.”

“It’s gotta be an organization,” Barnes guessed. “Been around for a while, a couple of deaths happening at the same time, and one constant MO.”

“Loki?” Everyone looked at the God of Mischief when Stark said his name. “You’re technically a part of this team now. What’s your opinion?”

“Barnes is probably right,” Loki said after a moment’s hesitation. “The locations are all over the place and there are many different ways the victims met their demise.”

They nodded and Loki returned to silence.

“Alright, game plan.” Stark clapped his hands. “We have to get Anderson into an interrogation room. Round one is the good cops: Steve and Sam. When he doesn’t crack, and he won’t, we up the intensity. Nat and the Manchurian Candidate will do some intimidation. If he still doesn’t crack we can send in Wanda, or even Reindeer Games if she’s not comfortable, to search his mind.”

“Are all Midgardian politics like that?” Loki heard the Valkyrie ask Thor after the meeting. Thor only shrugged so she turned to Bruce.

“I mean, I haven't been here in a while but it’s always kinda been fucked up.”

Only an hour after the meeting, Anderson took out one million dollars in cash. Stark tracked him to a small cafe where he was going to, no doubt, pay the assassin. The team rallied, but of course, Loki wasn’t going. Apparently, he wasn’t ‘cleared’ yet. The only other people staying behind were the Valkyrie, Thor, and Barton due to a recent injury. 

Loki went to his room to sulk, although he told everyone he was thinking. He didn’t want to be here. Maybe he wanted to go somewhere that reminded him of home with tall buildings that reached the sky… 

🌹

"Hello, (Y/N)." Loki’s voice was as smooth as it was in your head, but it was different. The only way you could describe it was that it was solid. It felt less intimate. Like he could bless others with his words, but it was more special because he was here. 

"Loki," you breathed.

"You look more beautiful than I ever could imagine." He stepped closer.

You touched your hair self-consciously. There were multiple knots, and it probably looked like one of those bird nests the dogs always knocked out of trees. You had woken up in a hurry and your hair being trapped in the hood of your cloak probably didn't help.

Then it occurred to you that you were wearing only your nightgown, and you tightly wrapped your cloak around yourself. Loki wouldn’t hurt you, but no man has seen you in an outfit so revealing. Still, you took another step closer.

"I do not know what to say." Fortunately, your voice didn’t shake or waver as you had feared, but Loki could probably feel your nervousness.

You both took a final step closer. You reached up and cupped Loki's face in your hand which tingled slightly when you made contact. You admired his sharp features and bright blue-green eyes. Then you shivered in the cold winter air. Loki noticed and pulled you into a hug. You leaned into him and felt a shiver, a different, better shiver, shoot through your body.

“You’re real.” Your soft voice was almost lost in the biting wind. “I was so scared that I was dreaming.”

Another goddamned dream about Loki? You groaned into your pillow and pushed a few damp strands of hair away from your face. Why now, all of a sudden? Was it because he was so close? Just a few hours upstate in the Avenger’s compound.

Pushing the dream aside, you stretched and got ready for the day. You had sent the photo to the Senator, who you had learned was very fucking corrupted, and he replied with a location. That changed your plans a bit, you hadn't physically met a client in decades, but it was for the better for multiple reasons.

The first reason was that the cafe he had chosen was next to a flower shop where you got your supply of roses. The second reason was that it meant his apartment would be empty. While you went to get the money, and eventually kill Senator Anderson, Max was going to rob his house. It wasn’t something you’d usually do, but honestly, the shitty asshole deserved it.

Your lips were painted red and you wore your usual boots and a leather jacket. Your regular hair was hidden behind a pink and green wig, courtesy of Max. A baseball cap and large sunglasses further hid your appearance. Though if somebody knew your face, the hat and glasses did nothing. There were multiple knives hidden on your body as well as a handgun tucked into your waistband and a pocket pistol in your, well, pocket.

As you walked into the cafe, Izzy, the auburn-haired florist, nodded to you. She had Botanokinesis, plant manipulation, so your supply of white roses was never low. Every once in a while, Izzy would take a job but she had told you she was very happy in her shop.

You noticed the Senator immediately. He still wore a suit and the sunglasses did nothing to hide his identity. There were two young women behind the counter and you suspected that the four other ‘customers’ were too buff not to be the Senator’s security. Anderson had his back to the door which meant you would have to get past his security to get out. You zeroed in on the black briefcase on the ground by his feet.

“Senator,” you greeted and sat down across from him.

“You can’t possibly be the one I talked to,” the asshole replied. “You’re just a girl.”

“Well of course I couldn’t be,” you rolled your eyes behind your heavily tinted glasses. “My boss is too busy and smart to meet you in public.” He didn’t notice your sarcasm. You pulled out the burner phone and showed him the messages as proof. “Now, I’m also busy so if we can get this over with?”

“Sure, darling.” He put the briefcase flat on the table and pushed it towards you.

“Open it.” Even though small boobie traps wouldn’t hurt you much, it wasn’t a piece of information you wanted to give him.

Anderson sighed and complied. Then you turned it around to quickly inspect the contents. One thousand one hundred dollar bills. Hello Mr. Franklin. You nodded in satisfaction and comically rubbed your hands together to inconspicuously grab a knife that was hidden up your sleeve.

“Thank you, Senator. That will be all.”

You closed the case, stood up, and plunged your knife deep into his left carotid artery. As his security descended upon you, you pulled the knife out and his neck satisfyingly squirted blood. The Senator collapsed with his hands clutching his wound desperately. The pool of blood rapidly grew underneath him.

The two baristas screamed behind the counter and the Senator’s security drew their guns. You flipped the small table for cover as bullets pierced the cafe’s window behind you. Perfect. Just a bit more.

You pulled out the handgun from your waistband and with practiced ease, shot three of the four goons. The last one got the bloodied knife to the face. You elbowed the already damaged window and it finally broke, raining glass down on you. Ignoring the small cuts, you jumped out of the cafe through the window as a familiar red and gold suit landed in front of you. Why the fuck were the Avengers here? What about Loki?

You darted into Izzy’s shop and she played her part well, screaming that you had run out the back when you had actually gone into the side room. You listened as the Avengers followed her directions. One person, maybe it was the Black Widow, stayed behind to help calm down the seemingly hysterical Izzy. If she wasn’t so happy at her shop and she didn’t want to work directly for you, she could be a great actress.

You rolled back the rug on the ground to reveal a metal trapdoor. You entered the code to unlock it and climbed down into the darkness. Behind you, you heard the trapdoor’s magnetic lock click back into place. Two centuries ago, you had tunnels dug underneath Manhattan, Brooklyn, and Queens for easy getaways. If you went… that way, you would end up in Sandra’s souvenir shop which was a couple of blocks away from your penthouse.

With a million dollars in one hand and a handgun in the other, you walked down the concrete tunnel.

*

*

*

*

*

Taglist:

@kaithehero @liliannyah​ @andreasworlsboring101 @oatballsoffury​ @aberrant-annie

[sif-the-tsunami]

Ropes and Roses: part 2

Summary: Elizabeth Rosehill is a talented dance instructor and a force of nature that beguiles her famous student. Event in her life, however, have led her to search for more creative ways for her to keep herself afloat. What will she do to keep her dreams secure and what will it mean for her blossoming relationship.

Warnings: I promise that we are getting to some fun stuff, this one is mostly flirtation, fluff, and some feminine bisexual chaos.

A/N: I love some bisexual chaos. let me know what you think.

@achaoticaugust @thelastsock @viking-raider let me know what you think?

Word count: ~1600

Henry looked around the studio after placing the yoga mats down. The light tan wood floors creaked softly under his footsteps, the walls coated with a light blue paint made the space feel calm and inviting, he thought to himself that the color combination reminded him of a day at the beach. One wall was covered with mirrors, the other had a rack with more yoga mats, brightly colored jingly hip scarves, and photos taken of various dancers. Elizabeth walked back into the room wearing a soft gray shirt over the curve hugging leggings and tank top she was wearing for the previous class.

“So, Greg told me this morning that they had not fully finished the plans for the dance scene, and he was willing to take my input. I have reviewed some of your fight scene footage, I think I have a good idea of where we can start. And I’m not going to lie, with your strength, I bet you would be a lot of fun to swing dance with. Now, lets get warmed up.” She began.

She kicked off her shoes and sat down on the mat, her movement was almost fluid. He watched her black painted fingernails run through her hair, the soft curls bounced gently as she leaned her head to left slightly. Henry joined her on the floor. For the next twenty minutes he mirrored her stretches as best as he could. With every new stretch, Elizabeth would praise him for his effort. Every “good job!” she exclaimed would perk him up. He would do yoga with her every day if it meant he could hear his new teacher shower him with praise.

During the stretches, they chatted about hobbies. Something about her demeanor made him open up more easily. She teased him for still playing WoW, but he playfully jabbed, “Oh I’m sorry who all plays Elder Scroll Online still?”

“Yeah, okay, that’s fair.”

The last position they did required them to have their legs spread apart and trying to lean forward enough to drop their elbows on the floor. It was pretty clear to Henry he wouldn’t be able to make it down that far. He could feel a tightness in his lower back that was keeping him from going too far forward.

“You don’t need to go as far as me, just as far as you can. Do your best, Henry. Take a nice deep breath in with your mouth, hold it for a five count, and exhale with your nose.” She said, her voice like velvet. “You are doing a really good job, keep up the effort. I’m willing to bet that if you kept doing stretches like this, in about four months, you could probably get your elbows down like this.”

He looked at Elizabeth’s large brown eyes, trying hard not to check out her body and immediately regretting wearing his dark blue track pants. She moved upright as smooth as ever. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking that she was showing off for him. He knew women would occasionally bend over backwards to impress him, and often it would work. It allowed him to be very picky with his romantic liaisons. She was up before he was, and reached out a hand to help him. With that gesture, he snapped out of his train of thought.

The dance instructor did everything she could to evoke any form of dance from Henry’s body. It was like trying to juice a rock. “So I think what we are going to try to accomplish is a basic tango. You get to look strong and imposing, your partner gets to look hella sexy. Win-win, right?” She said, trying to sound optimistic.

“It’s not too late, you can tell Greg that I should just be really great at Chess.” He teased.

“Don’t you tempt me, Mr Cavill. I might just do that.” She laughed for the first time in front of him. “So I have plans for the next couple nights, but if you want to really try to improve, I can get a partner for you to practice with on Sunday night. We would have to wait until after the school’s fall recital. But I can give you a couple hours.”

“Do you think I could actually get better.”

After a pause, and a long drink from her bottle of water, she responded as diplomatically as possible, “Well, Mr Cavill, if you don’t mind my honesty? You can’t get much worse.”

“Ouch. Ow. You hurt all two of my feelings.” He feigned insult. She raised a single eyebrow and saw right through him. Oh no, he thought, she knows I’m an absolute marshmallow.

“Uh huh, all two of your feelings. Right. So, Sunday night?” She giggled a little.

“Oh yeah, I’ll be here.” They then said their farewells, and left the studio for the night. Henry made his way home to a very excited Kal. He might still hate dancing but he enjoyed his time with Elizabeth. What was it about her that made him want to please her? Her whole face lit up when she smiles, her laugh was like music. 

That night he dreamed of the teacher, and wondered just how flexible she actually was.

***

Sunday night was an absolute joy for Elizabeth. She loved watching the little kids tap dance, the couples showing off their waltz, and the group of women who show off their tribal routine. Before the last dance, she noticed that her newest student tiptoed into a spot in the back. She was actually kind of excited to let him see what she could do. Being a very thorough researcher, she knew he would be able to learn a basic routine, especially given the amount of fight choreography he had mastered. She would be able to make the connection from his brain to his body. He might not enjoy it, but she appreciated the level of dedication that he had shown in the past and was willing to put forth for her.

Between performances, the families with littles mingled and left the studio. The group of belly dancers sat on one side of the room, the couples from the ballroom dancing stayed to another side. Henry stayed in the corner by himself, hiding in an open room with a baseball cap and a hoodie.

Elizabeth came out from the back wearing black pants, a black suit jacket and a sparkly silver bralette. Her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her partner, Genevieve, wore a formfitting red dress with lovely long blonde curls. She had agreed to perform this particular dance months ago and the anticipation was palpable. Inspired by the Frieda Kahlo movie, they had always wanted to perform a two woman tango. Elizabeth and Genevieve moved together like lovers deeply enthralled with each other. The music was sensual, but not nearly as sensual as they were. The two never broke eye contact until the very end of the dance. For a brief moment, she flashed her big brown eyes at Henry. His eyes were the size of dinner plates and he gulped hard. Good, she thought, I still got it.

Genevieve and Elizabeth hugged as the students applauded their display. They wrapped up the showcase, some more mingling and gradually the other adults left. Henry stayed to himself while waiting for his teacher to be ready.

“So, Mr Cavill, what did you think?”

“That was… oh my god, so... Wow… I don’t know if I can make a coherent sentence right now.”

“Thank you, that was exactly what I was going for. Henry, this is Gennie, she will be your partner tonight.” Elizabeth removed her jacket and pulled on a black tank top to get ready for their practice. She saw him sneak a peek at her changing, looking at the roses tattooed all over the right side of her torso. Gennie and Henry shook hands to begin their time together. Elizabeth was right, they were a good pair.

Their evening was well spent, Genevieve was a gracious partner. They had great chemistry together, Elizabeth was even able to take a short video to show to Gregory. She noticed that when the connection was made by Henry his whole body language changed. He loved to be told how great he was doing. The visible pleasure made her want to keep praising him. Before the evening class was done, Elizabeth also figured out what would make her pupil begin to laugh, and the more he relaxed the more he gave her. They became a great team, and a genuine friendship was beginning to form between the two.

***

Over the next few weeks, Henry and Elizabeth would continue their lessons. Over one lunch with his friends, the actor spent more than half of their time together telling the group of the instructor. He couldn’t stop himself from singing her praises. When someone suggested that he was developing a crush on her, he laughed to himself and denied it.

“Come on, Hank, you keep telling us how funny and cute she is. When you are done working together, ask her out.” Jillian suggested.

Jillian’s husband Jeremy asked Henry to describe the woman he had been talking about.

“Short, curly hair, she has some pink streaks in her hair, brown eyes, she kind of looks a little like a sort of retro pin-up model. She has a tattoo of flowers on her rib cage. I think she’s pretty.”

“American you said?”

“Yeah, from Southern California.”

“Huh, how about that.” Jeremy said vaguely. The questions seemed a little out of character for him but maybe he was actually interested in who she was. Henry tried not to overthink it, but it sat wrong with him the rest of the day.

[doomedandstoned]

10,000 Years Take Us Into The "Gargantuan Forest"

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

Review by Billy Goate

Album Art by Francesco Bauso

Leaving the world For salvation yonder Quest for eternity To suns beyond

Gazing upon our past Out into forever To a future obscured What glory awaits?

To begin another week of awesome original content at Doomed & Stoned, we're getting you better acquainted with the Swedish juggernaut 10,000 YEARS.

Last summer, the band dropped their eponymous debut to welcome ears and in just a few short weeks 10,000 Years come roaring back with a follow-up. Y'all know I'm a sucker for a good concept album. The eight-track full-length record 'II' (2021) picks up the trail of the Albatross research vessel, which has been galavanting 'cross the nether reaches of the galaxy on a potent rocket fuel made of sludgy stoner rock and doom metal.

If that sounds epic, wait'll you get a load of what's next for our interstellar crew. It helps if you picture the following text as a Star Wars-style screen crawl, slowly working its way up the page against the backdrop of a starry night.

After narrowly escaping the confines of the strange planet and its surrounding dimension, the Albatross and its crew finally return home to Earth. The re-entry is rough and the ship crashlands in a forest. The earth that greets them is vastly different from the one that they left.

When the ship travelled back to earth through the wormhole, it created a rift in the space-time continuum which propelled them far into the future, as well as allowing the Green King and other ancient gods from the other dimension to cross over to our dimension. They have since taken control of not only the earth, but the entire solar system.

After various harrowing experiences and encounters, the truth finally dawns on the surviving members of the crew. They are indeed back on earth, but ten thousand years in the future from when they started their journey. And to make matters worse, they find evidence that the Green King has been known and worshipped by secret cults and societies on earth for millenia, since before humankind even existed.

The surviving members of the crew come to the conclusion that the only way to set things right again is to repair the Albatross and take it back through the rift again in order to close it.

Now that's a saga I'm ready to get invested in. George Lucas, eat your heart out!

The record revs to a start with "Descent," a track that can best be described as terrific panic. It had me thinking of KOOK's "Escape Velocity" from their recent second album, though that's an eight-and-a-half minute slow burn and this is a quick twenty-six second fall from the sky. I wish this little notion had a chance to develop into something longer, but regardless what a thrilling way to open an album!

With rapt attention, I'm waiting to hear what comes next. The ship seems to have crash landed deep inside a "Gargantuan Forest." As an aside, it would be a blast to smoke a bowl o' something (anything, really) with Erik Palm (guitar), Alex Risberg (bass, vox), and Espen Karlsen (drums) just to gab it up a bit about sci-fi lit and horror flicks. I mean, check out the trove of B-movie greats referenced in their preface to the new single (which Doomed & Stoned is debuting today):

In this ABSURD (1981) video, 10,000 Years enter a FOREST OF FEAR (1980) as they access THE BEYOND (1981) and enter a BLOODBATH (1971) with THE BOOGEY MAN (1980), otherwise known as the Espbeast. The Espbeast stalks and haunts the bodies and minds of the characters in this C-grade homage to the horror movies of yesteryear.

The characters FIGHT FOR YOUR LIFE (1976) through insane NIGHTMARES IN A DAMAGED BRAIN (1981). If they survive the AXE (1974) they may still end up in an INFERNO (1980) and risk being EATEN ALIVE (1976). All the same risks face the viewer, so don’t watch with the lights out, don’t watch by yourself and DON’T GO IN THE WOODS ALONE (1981). Because after all, isn’t there an Espbeast in all of us?

10,000 Years have picked the ideal setting for the music video. The forests of Sweden stand tall and dark, the ground packed with snow. Screw you, Blair Witch Project -- this is where I want the next found footage flick filmed!

The song opens with a mysterious theme on solitary electric strings, surrounded by hazy reverberation. Drums and bass accent the motif as it's repeated several times over. Dazed by their graceless fall to earth, the crew wander about, checking one another for injuries, seeing if the faithful Albatross has even hope of another journey. As the shock begins to wear off, their hopeless plight reveals itself.

Screaming from the sky Blasting through the atmosphere

Come to rest On the forest floor Still alive What fresh new hell is this?

Surrounded by swamps A strange bleeding from the earth

Giant trees A dense horror taking root Same old sun Unfamiliar rays shine down

Is there something lurking about in the Gargantuan Forest? I'm sure no one wants to wait until nightfall to find out! The so-called "Espbeast" (which the band may actually have been first to name) is more than likely some strange amalgamation of guitar and creature, ripping through foes like a berserker of sound with scraps of High on Fire's "10,000 Years" echoing perversely through the treetops as it stalks and ultimately slays you. Nobody wants to be around when the Espbeast is on the prowl.

Now see, I'm letting my imagination get carried away! Then again, maybe that's what the band had planned all along -- for listeners to join in the fantastic adventures of these cosmonauts, to see through their eyes and feel through their body as they touch foot to strange soil. What will our adventurers find next?

The answer comes all too soon: "Spinosaurus!" This gruff beast charges angrily through the woods knocking things about, displacing rocks, snapping branches, royally pissed and ready to make somebody pay for the noise that snatched him away from a damned good nap. The repeated note riff, with its odd strumming pattern, does a nifty job of representing the crude movements of the Spinosaurus as it lumbers about the forest. Eric is a virtuosic mess of frantic tremeloes and wiry noodling against Espen's stampeding drums, as Alex narrates the scene with a terrifying shout:

Is this our earth? No time to dwell Dorsal sail cutting air Cretaceous ghost made flesh

Staring into Dead end eyes No place to hide Theropodic annihilation

Teeth into flesh!

What the crew is experiencing on their homeworld thus far seems foreign, almost ancient. Through some curse of Einstenian logic have we zipped through a wormhole only to return to the distant past? "The Mooseriders" are about to challenge our assumptions about what's possible on this Rock.

Thundering hooves crack the sky Dark robed wizards appear in the light Travellers in ether descending Protectors of the realm

These are the oath-bound eternals -- interdimensional templars, if you will -- who have arrived at this precise moment in time to take on the Green King. Complex rhythmic drumming with precisely stricken odd beats, is accompanied by a hyperactive bass and progressive metal riffmaking. Together, the band conjures the trot and hustle of the approaching entourage. A wilding guitar heralds a message from the great protectors:

The hour draws near The endgame is nigh Divine prophecy Even death may die

The mood now turns stately. A brave theme is introduced and developed with dashing prowess. This track would fit perfectly into a playlist with Mastodon, Ape Cave, and Zirakzigil. I found Alex's vocal approach especially appropriate for the frantic depiction of "antlers clashing with steel" in this battle to the finish. "Even death...may...DIE!"

"Angel Eyes" greet us on the B-side, and it's not a cover of the Jerry Cantrell song (though that would have been unexpectedly awesome). No, the hard-charging mood and raspy vocals are pointing to something far more apocalyptic.

Hooves of burning coal Let loose upon the world

Return of the warlord Eternal fire scorches the earth

Heavenly gaze Order through chaos

At times Alex seems exasperated, practically out of breath, as he gives these dire words his all. It's a style the 10,000 Years frontman owns as well as his counterpart, Simon Ohlsson of Vokonis, who has a comparable vocal attack. A bass-fortified guitar establishes a second theme that adds a Wagnarian touch of high drama, and this ushers in the song's curtain fall.

If 10,000 Years is to be compared with High On Fire at all, the rumbling riffstorm "March Of The Ancient Queen" surely merits it (to say nothing of their mutual love of alternative histories).

Her royal blood Once ruled these lands Generations Buried by time Dynasty of dust Rise from the sands Rise from the dead The Green King's servant

March!

March Of The Ancient Queen - Single by 10,000 Years

That last lyric is uttered with the most blood-curdling all-caps conviction that I was immediately drawn into its sentiment, miming "Maaaaarrrrrch!" with my ugliest war face on every time it came up in the song. The NWOBHM-style finish is so deftly executed that it comes across as orchestral. 10,000 Years paint with big, bold strokes here.

"Prehuman Walls" is a welcome shift down, with its chugging "Bury Me In Smoke" tempo. You sludge fiends will find moments of Zen here, with riffs that bend and twist and saw 'neath the summer sun. The crew have chanced upon a temple of sorts, though not one made with human hands. Nothing seems to make sense here at all. It's like Area X from the film Annihilation (2017), where everything is a contortion of reality. Then the "truth settles in." This alien monstrosity, we find, bears the mark of the sinister Green King. We thought we'd escaped him, only to find that he both followed us and was here millenia before.

Unholy worship Feed the Green King Eyes pried open Sanity stripped away

At last, we reach the final track in our journey: "Dark Side Of The Earth". So many revelations have been made in this second chapter, so many loose ends that need to be tied off. Naturally, a third chapter must be written. "We must go back, set it right," deliberates an exasperated Albatross crew. "We must go back, whence we came."

Dimension walls broken down The fabric ripped and torn apart Thread the needle once again A journey of ten thousand years

We must go back, set it right We must go back, through the tears

Insanity the only way The dark side of the earth

Following these words, the song develops instrumentally and the mood gets quite emotional. I found myself drawing parallels between this "bastard version of earth" and our own, wondering if we ever can go back and make it right. For us, perhaps it should be about moving forward, for there is no golden age or better time to which we can return. We make this world a heaven or hell tomorrow by the choices made today.

The album was recorded by Tomas Skogsberg at Studio Sunlight. Totally diggin the awesomely swamp landscape that Francesco Bauso of Negative Crypt Artwork created. It reminds the five-year old me of Luke's sopping wet landing on Dagobah, though guitarist Alex Risberg says the band's more inspired by Planet of the Apes than by Star Wars.

The album will be released on June 25th as a special vinyl "Green King Edition" by Interstellar Smoke Records pre-order here), a cassette tape "Forest Edition" from Ogo Rekords (pre-order here) and "Swamp Edition" from Olde Magick Records pre-order here), with the digital and compact disc formats handled by Death Valley Records (pre-order here).

10,0000 Years have in II their most accomplished album to date, with powerful moments that will stay with you long after the record's stopped spinning. Fans of High On Fire, Black Tusk, and The Sword listen up! You might just discover your next favorite band.

Give ear...

10,000 Years - Gargantuan Forest (Music Video)

Some Buzz

Having previously played together in the original lineup of Swedish underground heavyweights Pike, Erik Palm (Guitars) and Alex Risberg (Bass/vocals) found their way back to each other, musically, in early 2020. The creative fire reignited and stoked to a burning inferno and through a mutual love of heavy riffs and thundering stoner rock, doom, and sludge metal, 10,000 Years was born. Finding a drummer would prove to be an easy task and with Espen Karlsen the final piece lay firmly in place. The groove they fell into during the first rehearsal hasn’t stopped rumbling since.

After spending the first-half of 2020 writing and rehearsing, 10,000 Years recorded their self-titled debut EP during one weekend in June in the legendary Studio Sunlight with equally legendary producer Tomas Skogsberg. The self-titled EP was released on July 10th and immediately struck a chord with the heavy underground worldwide, and 10,000 Years garnered rave reviews and accolades.

10,000 Years by 10,000 Years

10,000 Years' musical and lyrical world revolves around the tale of the terran class III exploration vessel Albatross and its mission to explore the Milky Way and nearby galaxies in search for a possible new home for humanity. The EP tells the tale of its first foray into space and what happens when the crew accidentally travel through a wormhole and end up in an adjacent dimension populated by ancient gods and giant beings, ruled by the Green King. The EP ends with “From Suns Beyond,” where the crew make it off from the strange planet, back out into space in search of a way back home. The new album picks up the story as the Albatross blasts through the atmosphere of a seemingly unknown planet and crashlands headfirst into strange new adventures.

II by 10,000 Years

Now, less than a year after their first release, 10,000 Years are back with their first full-length effort, aptly titled 'II' (2021). Picking up right where the EP left off, II continues the story of the ill-fated Albatross mission and its exploration of time and space through a skull-crushing mixture of stoner rock, doom, and sludge metal. The album will no doubt continue to build on 10,000 Years' already golden reputation and prove to be an even bigger hit with the heavy masses.

Follow The Band

Get The Music

[intelligentdumbass]

The Obligatory Beach Episode

(Yeah this is more crack-ish)

———————

The sun shone bright and high on the afternoon sky as the crystal waves crashed into the sand.

Poseidon and Zeus were surfing; the god of the sea trying to use all sorts of subtle tricks to make his brother fail every time. Ares, Artemis, Athena and Hermes were having a good ole round of beach volley ball. Apollo was laying down, wearing shades of course, and chatting with Persephone and Aphrodite while they built a sand castle on top of him. Dionysus and Hephaestus were drinking wine under the shade, with Hades not too far off; trying to make sure he doesn’t get any sand stuck in between his toes. In the meantime, the barbeque was under the care of all three of Kronos’ daughters, along with some other snacks while they shared each other’s stories. Some of the minor gods were here too, like Hebe cheering on her siblings in the volley ball game and Iris walking around with a drink in her hand.

As you can see, things were surprisingly peaceful, well, at least for now.

It just so happened that eventually Zeus was sick of his brother’s bullshit and decided to try to find something else to do that would hopefully be more advantageous for him fair for the both of them. When they got back on land, the god’s eyes shifted towards the volleyball resting on the sand. It seems that his kids were on a break.

“Okay, how about we have… a volleyball game?”

“Just us? Ehhhh, how about we add some more? Maybe… two each?”

“Oh, gladly. Apollo! Athena!”

He got a single, unanimous response. “NO.”

“…I’ll give both of you a day off each?”

“…”

“A week off-”

And just like that, they were now standing beside him on one side of the volleyball court. (Ignore the complaints of Persephone about her damaged sand castle and Hermes’ faint grumbles of wanting that week off too.)

Now it was Poseidon’s turn, but before he even spoke, Artemis and Ares eagerly volunteered.

Hermes’ frown turned into a curious grin. “Oh-” “Ohhhh… Oh, this is gonna be fun.” He disappeared for a minute before coming back with a camera around his neck. Hestia, on the other hand, was already trying to convince all the mortals in the beach to evacuate and go home early. In other words, most of them were anticipating the worse, but how bad could it possibly be?

Well, only one way to find out. Time to spin the wheel and roll the dice.

Before anything else though, Athena got Zeus and Poseidon to swear on the river Styx not to use their elemental prowess during the game.

The first round started out fine. Zeus served, and Poseidon managed to send it back, which was then countered by Athena, then Ares, then Athena again, then Artemis, then Apollo… It was actually kinda fun to watch with how fast the ball was moving. It ended with a point going to Poseidon’s side, with the ball also hitting Apollo’s leg, causing him to trip.

“Oops, my bad.” Artemis apologized, without much remorse, while going to get the ball.

The god glared and got up, dusting the sand off. Later, in the second round, Apollo did a spike that definitely wasn’t supposed to be an act of revenge that somehow hit Ares square in the chest instead, making him fall back-first on the sand.

“Oh shit-” “That wasn’t on purpose I swear-” He stopped when the war god sent the ball hurling right back at him, but luckily he moved out of the way at the last second. Unfortunately, that meant that the ball ended up wrecking the barbeque.

Before anyone else could react, Hera grabbed it and spiked it back, hitting Zeus on the head so hard he actually ended up falling on the net, breaking it. “ACH-” “HEY! Why me? What did I do?!”

“Well shit.” Athena glanced at her father. “I suppose that ends the game.”

“Wait, I have an idea…” Poseidon picked up the volleyball. “Let’s play something else instead.”

“That is..?”

“Well… Anyone up for some dodge ball!?” He threw it at Athena, who just side-stepped out of the way, causing it to hit Hermes on the face and crush the camera he was holding.

“Hermes!” Apollo immediately rushed over, one of the few times he genuinely sounded concerned in this entire mess, and scooped him up to go where Dio and Heph are while the messenger whined about all the lost footage.

Meanwhile, Zeus had already stood up, holding the ball. “Oh if it’s a fight you want, it’s a fight you’ll get!” He launched it towards Ares, who summoned his shield at just the right moment, making the ball bounce off, and it would’ve hit an unsuspecting Apollo if Artemis hadn’t pulled out her bow. Instead, her golden arrow had unintentionally guided the ball to create a giant crater in what was supposed to be Persephone’s newly fixed sand castle.

“OH, COME ON!”

Aphrodite patted her on the back as Hephaestus walked over to offer his help in rebuilding it, again.

Demeter frowned and sighed. “Okay, that’s enough please!-” “Ah!” Someone had thrown the volleyball, hitting her left hand and landing on a plate of spaghetti. She looked at the direction of where it came from, glaring at Hades, but the god of the underworld looked just as shocked as she was.

“Wha-” “Hey look, I know what it looks like and why you might think that I did it but I did NOT-” He got cut off by a wave of sand and a few stray drops of tomato sauce and pasta getting into both his robes and his hair. Demeter didn’t throw it, she kicked it over. The god looked horrified as there was a faint echo of laughter and glared back at the grain goddess.

Persephone felt bad because she saw that it was Eris who did it this time, but even she had to suppress a small giggle. “You know, literal centuries have passed. When will you two ever make up? Or, no maybe not that but at least, like, leave each other alone?”

“Huh?” Dionysus blinked. “Wait I heard something something make out-”

Hermes burst out laughing while Apollo face palmed and Persephone gagged. Fortunately for Demeter, she hadn’t heard what the wine god said, but Hades did and he looked like he wanted to vomit. He kicked the ball, but instead of hitting Dio, it landed right on Hermes’ face again, and the two brothers next to him almost swore as loud as he did with the sudden rush of sand. Apollo coughed a little, before turning to Hermes.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Ugh, ya think?” He held a hand over his face. “I think… I think I broke my nose again.”

Apollo moved Hermes’ hand away, examining his face, and just did what he did before; that is, give him a small peck on the nose because apparently that works.

A few moments passed before Dionysus cleared his throat. “You know, I can go rent a room if you’re going to keep on staring at each other like that.”

The messenger blushed while the blonde just ignored him, glancing around like he was looking for something. “Where’s the ball?”

“Uhhhh, over here.” Dio passes the volleyball to his brother. “Why?”

Apollo stared at it for a second, at which the ball suddenly burst into flames. Speaking of the ball, the only reason it’s still intact at this point is because Hephaestus made it specifically to withstand the strength of all the gods.

“Um… bro?” The messenger nervously eyed the miniature sun. “What’re you doing?”

“Something I should’ve tried a long time ago.” And with that he tossed the ball. It was quite the impressive throw really, travelling all the way to the other side of the beach until it ended up hitting Eros’ back with the heat of a G-type main-sequence star. The bastard yelled and quickly ran off into the water or else his wings would start catching fire. Thankfully, to Psyche’s relief, the ball immediately stopped burning the second the deed was done.

There were a few more victims of the deadly volleyball that day as more and more gods used it to ruin someone’s day. Of course, it immediately had to end the second someone accidentally hit Hebe on the shoulder.

Oh well, just another day in being immortal.

[mwolf0epsilon]

Why not kill two birds with one stone?

---

The way they'd established supply runs was an intricate ordeal. It was an effort split between a group and a solo act of sorts, with the group scavenging for anything useful (like food , tools, or any bits and bobs that might come in handy later) while one lone soul would run around leading the Ink Demon in circles to keep it well away from the supply run's path. That "morning", after the usual breakfast of bacon soup, stale coffee and ink brew, Henry had assigned the roles through the drawing of straws (actually just pieces of paper he'd tried to cut as evenly as possible) among the few toons that did not have a particular task to complete for the day. Norman, Buddy, Shawn and Grant had thusly ended up together as a group, while Sammy was the unfortunate bait of the day. Not that he had any trouble getting around mind you... He could run faster now that he had a stable body, and he knew the layout of the top floors pretty well now that some of his memories as the Prophet ressurfaced. He could also sense the demon's presence more acutely so he could run circles around the damn thing without it realizing it was being duped.

Overall it was a solid team. Too solid even.

Which of course called for some action on 'Wally's part.

'Wally' had it all figured out or at least that's what he liked to think. He was, for a matter of lack of words, a wolf in sheep's clothing... Or... a sheep in wolf's clothing? Or was it an idea in sheepish wolf's clothing?

Ok maybe he didn't have it all figured out, but who cared? He didn't have to do the big thinking anyway because there were two people doing that for him anyways. All he really needed to do was play is part as the clumsy but charming guy that got everyone else to laugh. Get all cozy and cute with these people and get the plot running real smooth without them realizing it.

Simple in theory but very difficult in practice for, you see, 'Wally' was the idea of Wally Franks constructed in the image of an off-model Boris with a goofy grin, a Brooklyn accent, and a love for pranks and foods he'd never tasted before. Every single tape the Ink could find it used to create him. Including one very specific trait: Wally Franks was a bit of a dick sometimes, but he was genuinely nice to those he care for. And it just so happened he cared for all these other dicks who were currently living cartoon characters. Yes even Sammy Stick-Up-The-Ass Lawrence... What a dang predicament...

Sabotaging them on Joey's and the Ink's command was getting harder and harder each time, and both his creators were not happy with this.

He either did as he was told, or he'd be in a world of trouble. He needed to do something big, and fast!

Thus came the idea to sabotage the supply run. A plan that quickly went off the rails big time because he'd turned off his brain for just a second...

Sneaking off was really easy. Tom had told him to fasten some of the bolts on the less stable pipes upstairs and, after some very convincing grumbling under his breath, he'd gone up to do just that. Except he kept on walking right past where his stop was at. He had eyes on a much bigger task than fiddling with some faulty pipework that was gonna burst later anyways.

Sammy was awfully suspicious of him, so 'Wally' made sure to wait around to check where he was headed before searching the upper floors for Norman's crew. The Ink had whispered to him, told him that if he took Polk's reels he'd be able to cut the run short and force them to go back. Then the Ink would simply scare off Sammy by leading the demon straight to him when he least expected it.

He'd stupidly not questioned why taking the reels would force the group back. He'd been too curious to see what was on them anyways to consider they might be important to Norman in a physical sense.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

"Anyone else feeling a bit watched?" Grant whispered as 'Wally' crept around from within the walls, keeping his eye on the prize. Polk had fastened the reels into place before leaving, so snatching them off without being noticed wasn't going to be easy. He wasn't a dull joe, however, so he got around that issue with quite the clever grift.

Some of the walls were rotten from being soaked with ink for so long, so one careful tug was all he needed to make a part of the wall and ceiling collapse.

"Watch out!" The object-head toon turned around to shield his partners, blocking their view and being unable to see as 'Wally' quickly descended upon him and took both items in one swift motion. Using the dust clouds and sound of crunching wood as cover to flee from the scene.

As easy and sweet as pie! He could already hear his creators praising him for the good job. Now to figure out what was so damn important about these dang films that Polk obcessed over them so much...

As soon as he'd found a projector he popped them in and eagerly awaited a show. The first few minutes of footage confused him, as he wasn't seeing cartoons but real human people. Then a few more minutes of this strange "real people film" made him realize it wasn't some fictional bad soap opera that the projectionist had somehow saved.

These were moments in Norman's life. Norman's memories. They were a part of him.

Which is when 'Wally' realized he fucked up. Wait no, that wasn't true. He realized this when a terrifying roar and three terrified screams shook the halls...

---

Sammy's wool stood on end as soon as he heard the roar just one floor below him. The bellowing of the Projectionist when he was still a feral ink abomination. A screech that had followed him and Jack as they ran like their butts were on fire towards the base where a temporary cage awaited the monster Norman Polk had become.

That screech that was somehow ringing downstairs, diverting the demon's attention from the sheep toon. Something terrible had happened and the others were likely in a world of trouble. He had to move.

Rushing down the stairs Sammy listened to the horrific roars and the screams of his coworkers. He then followed the mess left behind. Splintered doors, broken furniture and a trail of ink. Someone's ink.

Someone was injured while the demon was on the prowl.

He turned a corner and stumbled as he walked into 'Wally'. He was surprised at first, unsure why the cartoon wolf would be all the way upstairs, before his eyes landed on two very familiar blank looking reels. It clicked in his mind that the roars and 'Wally' holding these two items Norman had been protective of were connected somehow.

"You..." He snarled, actually snarled, wool turning to bristled fur on the back of his neck and tip of his tail as anger replaced apprehension.

"I... I can explain!"

"What did you do?!"

"I was... I was fixin' the pipes and a wall collapsed! I swear! I found these and... I think they were Norman's? I figured I might need to give 'em back an--"

"Cut the €π@¶, you're a $#!¥ liar mutt..." Sammy hissed furiously as he grabbed 'Wally' by the ears. "I told Henry you were bad news, but did he listen? No!"

"O-ow Sammy that smarts!"

"Trust me once I tell the others, me pulling on your ears will feel like a light spanking..." The sheep toon began to drag the wolf along, continuing his search for his missing teammates.

His anger dissipating as the trail of ink (blood) continued on. And then it stopped. Right in front a little miracle station situated in a trashed room.

Sammy stared at it for a little while before pressing his head to it. He could hear muffled familiar crying.

"Grant, you in there...?" He called, hoping for anything. A meek yes, a sob, anything...

He didn't expect the station to open up and have two child-sized toons tackle him in desperation.

Shawn and Grant were terrified. Worse yet... Buddy was with them and he did not look well.

'Wally' stared at the heavily wounded toon dog, barely able to look at the extensive damage. The kid was missing chunks for Pete's sake!

"What happened?" Sammy tried to get the others to talk.

"A wall collapsed, and... £¢€&... Oh my god..." Grant was hysterical and Shawn wasn't any better.

"It was mad, madness! I can't... And Norman..."

"Words, use your words, come on! What happened? Where's Norman?!" Sammy insisted, shaking the two smaller toons for good measure. They hiccuped and sobbed, and Grant could barely hold up one of his hands to point to a corner, where a lone projector lay discarded. 'Wally's stomach plummeted at the sight, and Sammy's grip slackened as he realized the implications.

"He went n-nuts... He attacked us! Buddy t-tried to stop him... W-we could barely escape into the station and then... Oh god Sammy, the Demon killed Norman! It just..."

"Head straight off, like he was nothin'!"

The reels clattered to the floor, rolling a few feet to meet with the projector that was spurting ink like a macabre fountain piece. 'Wally' had messed up big time.