#honestly i have such a fucking weak point. people can pull any kind of string they want on me just by saying 'you're playing dirty.'

[stinkbeck]

dude i'm so mad rn. i swear 2 god i used 2 be so good at not being manipulated. i fucking HATE THIS BITCH!!!!!!

[novaknightwritings]

Watching an ST trying to pull at my heart strings of my character and failing...

So, I am currently in a scene going in right now that my storyteller is some how going to think is going to pull at my heart strings. And I am kind of sitting here waiting for him to do what he says is going to be emotional character damage...

And I don't know a good way to tell him that I don't think this is going to work out the way he wants it too. Like, I get that he is mostly wing this whole scene because he got a cool idea and looked something up in google, but honestly there isn't really any connection between what is happening and what my characters had to deal with that makes any of this hit. Sure, the character has some weak spots, all of them do, but he is kind of missing what a lot of them are due to the very nature of the game. And a lot of them are the meta kind of fears because this is a setting where the character has seen a lot of dark shit, like a lot of it if you really sit down and think about it. Also, asking me deep and personal questions about a character when I work at a retail job don't work very well. I can't sit there and think about it because i have to get back to work and I can't just sit and type of all of the deeper shit when I am not even suppose to be in my phone... and my ass isn't going to sit there an hold up a whole scene when I tell you guys that I am not going to be able to post a lot. You lose all of the power and punch of a scene if that shit is sitting for far to long. So your going to get the quick answer, and that is at this point, "You kind of addressed most of her fears already. Like, I was able to think of some things, but in the middle of a scene your not going to be able to hit me with expidental dreed that would be needed for such a thing. What she fears isn't something that can be faces with people around, because most of her hears are social in nature. It's the little fucking voice in the back of your head that tends to make this character have fears.

And don't get me wrong, the storyteller is fun to do simple stupid shit with, but I don't think he going to get what horror and things are going to creep out the character. I mean one of the first job was bad guys that eat people, like cooked them bitchs up. There are things out there, but they are deep and they are under a lot of emotional scaring that has been done from the trama and shit.

[deathsofglitter]

Hi! I'm a huge fan of all of your work, but as a Byakuya Togami enjoyer, I absolutely adore all of your art featuring him. Because he occupies so much of my brain space, I always like to ask people- what draws you to him? What are your thoughts on him, and are these thoughts different than the ones you had about him when his character was first introduced? I apologize if these questions are too vague to really answer in a tumblr ask. Thank you for sharing your work here; it always makes my day.

(the very first pictures i ever drew of him..)

while he stood out to me from the very beginning, i honestly had no idea I would really grow to be so fascinated and enamored with byakuya as a character— I liked him as soon as I saw him, but I think the moment that completely solidified him in my mind as a character was..

i think.. even with the moments and tropes that are definitely worth a bit of criticism in chapter 2, i was pretty blown away by the depth of his depravity and madness stringing up chihiro, fucking with mondo, and completely engineering his perfect plan to string makoto along with him the entire time— and then to use toko to reveal jack, after creating nothing more than a half-assed and miserable copy of her master work. he’s a fanatic and even no better than a serial killer fanboy, he’s instrumental in the themes of gender, sexuality, masculinity, and shame in the chapter itself. the trifecta of him, chihiro, and mondo is a triangle of obsession, impulsivity, and insecurity — jack and makoto the end results of this creation at the hands of these people, byakuya, no better than jack himself— I may even say he has an obsession and fixation on makoto no better than toko has to him— the ultimate irony of their relationship in this second triad.

i really thought him to be an irredeemable person, which drew me to him as a villain more than anything.. but the implications of his behavior and him as a character mess me up so unbelievably, and the fact that you as a protagonist— and makoto as a character— are more or less implied to be the one person who has ever shown him compassion, gotten him to open up about his extraordinary circumstances.. and the fact that he immediately snaps, pushing and pulling in his grapple with a need for understanding and human connection after experiencing a life comfortably soulless and devoid of it.

he is a depraved and damaged person, who boasts endlessly about killing others, threatening to weed out the weak, and is thrown into a situation not unlike his own childhood in a remarkable competition to survive— and yet he doesn’t hurt a soul, he is more bark and verbal abuse than bite, he tampers with something already dead, he says it’s for his own gain, but I believe in my heart that he is not the kind of person that seeks to cause any further violence. is he not a narrative mirror to genocide jack herself? a violent and damaged thing purely due to circumstance— created through neglect and hatred, and living to cause that same pain.

the last line blew me away the second I finished this free time event— I feel it says all that it needs to say about who he is, truly, at the core beneath the pompous and aggressive visage. his life is but a tragic one— again, of survival, death, and inferiority. if he was a scared person, at one point, he has surely buried that fear deep into a place it can never be found. he was not ensured a single thing from the day he was born— he had been nobody, he is, ultimately, nobody, and cannot accept the reality of his own humanity when he has been so profoundly dehumanized for the entirety of his existence.

“it should have been you,” and it wasn’t, and he continues to be alive, and he has to be alive, and despite everything he has done, he is still the last person to fight for Makoto’s life against kyoko’s betrayal in chapter 5, he still becomes a person willing to sacrifice himself for the good of komaru naegi and takes the action of saving her knowing that it will put him at risk— despite his nature, and the will of every force in his life turning him into the cruel thing he was… he is not beyond learning how to be a human being, for the first time in his life.

i think, in the end, what draws me to him so much is the fact that he is not irredeemable— that he is as much the product of circumstances as anyone and anyone else— absurd and extraordinary ones, if anything. and that maybe he can learn to be a person beyond the chains his lineage has strangled him with. that he is not as ensured to be horrible as anyone else is ensured to be good from the moment that they are born— that perhaps he did not deserve what made him into what he was, and beneath everything, there is still someone who is capable of compassion.

[differentkettleoffishalltogether]

I’m On Fire [Chapter 1]

Summary: With her sister’s wedding fast approaching and her Mom hounding her about finding a date, Y/N makes a terrible decision that lands her and her least favorite genius in a confusing situation.

A/N:  This is the first part in a series, I’ve written the first few chapters already so I’m hoping to update pretty regularly! I hope you guys enjoy, and any feedback is always appreciated! ❤️

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Category: Fake Dating, Enemies to Lovers, (Eventual) Smut, Fluff, Angst, it’s a Slow Burn Baby

Warnings: None really for this chapter, cursing? Mean-ish Spencer

Word Count: 6.5k

Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

Masterlist 

I wasn’t at the BAU long before it started to feel like home. The team became my family, pure and simple.

Having been recruited by Hotch at only 22 I'd sort of fallen into the roll of the little sister to the team without really meaning to. It's not that I was naive, or particularly sheltered even. I know I'm good at my job, and I'd want to be, given how my life's revolved around it almost entirely. But the team seemed to adopt a protective mindset over me right off the bat.

When I first joined the FBI everything was terrifying. I worked so hard for my PhD, trying to get into the unit, but there's almost nothing that can actually prepare you for the real thing. Being out in action in the field, working the cases out in real time. Sometimes they had a smooth, easy conclusion followed by loud obnoxious drinks together. Then there were the others, the ones that kept me up for days after and felt as though they owned little pieces of my heart still.

It was JJ that helped the most on those horrible flights back on the jet. Noticing my anxious ticks and uneasy disposition after that first case that had ended badly. JJ had been through it all before, taking too many cases home with her. Seeing her son's little faces in the kids that we couldn't help. If I was the baby of the team JJ was the big sister, looking out for everyone.

Morgan on the other hand was the outrageously cool older brother, the one you just wanted to be. Early on he'd helped my weak self with the ruthless fitness regimen the FBI required, he offered to pull some strings and get the test written off. But I couldn't accept that, there was something in me that just wanted to impress Morgan, and honestly still does. Like somehow if he thought you were cool, then it became true. So I passed the exam, but getting up a flight of stairs was near impossible for a week after.

Emily was probably the fun aunt. The one that would sneak you booze at the family gathering, or take you to your first concert. Emily was actually the one who'd found me, digging around colleges for potential recruits she'd had me picked out for a while I later found out. Insisting that Hotch give me a shot. It was reassuring to know I had someone who would stick up for me from day one.

I was an tech analyst, among other things, sort of a counterpart for Garcia in the field. So it was no surprise to anyone when the two of us hit it off as though we'd known each other forever. We weren't the same by any means though. Penelope was bold, and bright, and confident beyond measure, where I've typically felt like more of a blend into the background type. I've always thought of myself that way, despite my achievements. I'd also always believed I was fairly inoffensive, no one I'd met had ever had a huge problem with me, 'till I got to the BAU that is.

Every rose has its thorn I suppose.

That thorn in my side was Dr. Spencer Reid.

It wasn't that Dr. Reid was a bad agent, or even a bad person. I hadn't actually met him before that first day in the conference room, but I'd known who he was for a long time. Before I came along he'd held the mantle of 'youngest ever recruit' in the unit, while I was studying I'd read any of his work I could get my hands on because of that fact.

I figured it must've been some sort of hazing when he looked me up and down that first day I was introduced, and then proceeded to blank me entirely for a full week. Up until I'd wrapped my first case.

The whole team went straight from the jet to the bar. Proceeding to get far too drunk. Spencer joined, which the rest of the team found unusual, and I probably should've taken as a sign of things to come.

That case went well, and everyone was in high spirits but Reid had a sour disposition, at least it seemed that way every time he looked at me. After a few too many drinks I went outside in an attempt to sober up in the cold air, unfortunately Reid must've snuck outside not long before.

"Ugh" was all he said when he first caught my silhouette approaching him. The night was unusually cold so it had been deserted outside the bar that evening. I wasn't really sure why it made me nervous to be alone with him like this, the two of us leaning back against the same small area of brick wall, looking out at the cold night.

"Nice to see you too doctor" was all I could muster, I was drunk enough that I let my sarcastic tone leap out, "you can relax, I'm just trying to get some fresh air, it's too stuffy in there, and loud. I'm not here to talk to you or anything."

"Well aren't you a sensitive thing" he responds in kind, at that point I wasn't really sure if it was a coincidence or if he'd been genuinely avoiding me, but things were starting to clear up.

"I'm sensitive, that's a fun take on things" I joke, taking a long sip of cold water from my glass.

"And what's that supposed to mean, newbie?" his emphasis on the last word all but confirms my suspicions.

"Fuck man, what's your problem with me? Is it because I'm new, or because I beat your stupid record?" I quip. hoping that at the very least it might coax him out of his shell. Dr. Spencer Reid getting angry at me could honestly be better than the nothing I'd been experiencing from him until now.

"What stupid record?" he sounds genuinely confused

"I'm the youngest BAU recruit now?" I didn't know why else he could be so sour. He'd never met me before last week, and since he'd ignored me that first day I'd done all I could not to step on his toes. So if he had a reason to hate me this much, it wasn't something I'd done on purpose.

He takes a few moments to respond, raising his eyebrows and considering the information. He chuckles. He fucking chuckles.

"That's funny." he says, his voice leveling out, "I didn't peg you as funny newbie" that word sets something off in me again. Something about it is dismissive, or belittling. Before I could fight back he starts to move, maneuvering around me and heading back inside. A little too tipsy to think of anything constructive to say, I just mutter "Fuck you Spencer."

He swings open the door, as he walks inside he just says "See you Monday, Newbie" without even looking at me.

And that was only the beginning.

----

"You know I'm just trying to make sure you get enough rest sweetheart. There's no need to get so defensive!" it was far too early in the morning to be dealing with this call. Since joining the BAU a few years ago this was a standard call from my Mom. Equal parts well meaning and over-bearing, and generally asking far too many questions.

"I'm not getting defensive Mom, I get plenty of rest, my job is just very important to me and you know that." I knew she was right to be at least a little worried, this job was consuming, and in all honesty I wasn't sure how people like JJ were married and still here. It seemed like an impossible feat.

"Fine sweetie, how are your co-workers doing then? How's Penelope? Give her my love" she loved Penelope, I think she thought that Penelope tethered me to the normal world, and in a way she was right. She kept me sane, and fun, and made me eat pizza and do face masks once a week at least. Even when I didn't think I wanted to.

"Pen's great Mom, everyone's good. Well, the usual ones get on my nerves, but I'm fine." As I say it I glance across at Dr. Reid, the only person who's also in as early as I am most days. I'm not sure if he can hear me but he's tapping his pen so loud on his desk that it takes all of my energy not to walk across the bullpen and stab him with it.

"Y'know what Mom, I'm actually just after getting to work and it's a busy day so can I call you back later?" I chance, getting her off the phone is always an ordeal.

"Fine, fine, I'll let you go. But wait one last thing!"

I knew what was coming. It was always coming.

"Are you seeing anyone, Margot's been wondering too, just thought I'd check in?"

Pinching the bridge of my nose and trying not to scream down the line, I just sigh out the frustration instead.

"No Mom, believe it or not, I've made no progress on that front since you asked me all of 3 days ago."

"See you are being defensive!" she snaps

"I gotta go, bye Mom. Love you!" I say, hanging up quickly before dropping my head down into my arms on my desk, resting like that for a few moments in silence.

Hearing Garica chuckle behind my ear I perk up and spin around. She's holding a small paper cup of coffee and hands it to me. I look at it confused, "Sorry about the paper, I couldn't find your mug in the cabinet" she apologizes, looking over at Dr. Reid and rolling her eyes. Now I know he can hear me from his seat, he takes that moment to sip from my mug and place it gently back on his desk.

It hadn't taken long for him to start toying with me. It was always stupid childish things. Things I couldn't get genuinely annoyed at, that would give him far too much satisfaction, knowing he was getting to me in any real way. This was one trick he liked to play if he got into the office before me, he'd take my mug and make his coffee in it, just to spite me I guess.

"Why does he even do that, it's so stale" she said, just a little louder than normal to make sure he could hear. Garcia and Reid were still good friends and team-mates but she liked to stand up for me when she could. He liked to avoid me as much as possible so he'd usually go to Garcia before me if he needed help with something. Even when the two of us were out in the field together. Which was obnoxious but it was just another thing I'd gotten used to over time. And as long as it didn’t interfere with the case I just forced myself to let it go.

"I know it's such low grade bullying isn't it?" I shot back with a chuckle.

"So I'll take it that was Mommy dearest" Penelope gestures to my phone. She knew my Mom, and she knew about her general overbearing energy. I let out a groan thinking about the call again, and the calls that were to come.

"Isn't it always Mommy dearest?" I joke

"So she's still on your ass about the wedding then?" I'm sure Penelope was almost as sick of hearing about it as I was,

"Margot's getting married in like 4 months now, and every time Mom calls there’s just some new hometown loser she wants to set me up with Pen. It's fucking exhausting" I take a sip of the coffee she made me, savoring the bitter taste. She sits down on my desk for a moment, leaning in.

"Honey, did you ever think that if you got out there and found someone, she wouldn't be on your ass at all?" I don't want to think about that, about how she's completely right. All I can do is let out another small groan and lean back down onto my desk.

"Too early Pen" I say, it's muffled by the desk but she gets the message. Hopping up and heading to her own office as some more people start to arrive for the morning.

Leaving me alone to make a start on my paperwork that had built up throughout the week. Fridays were usually slow like this, giving me a little too much time to think. I couldn't shake the thought that my Mom and Penelope were actually right. Maybe I was a bit too invested in the job, and maybe that was a pretty big factor in why my last relationship imploded but I wasn't about to admit that to anyone.

----

After that the day crawls by, thankfully no cases pop up so the weekend might actually be free. Trying to make sure I clear up all of my paperwork takes a little longer than I'd hoped and leaves me alone in the bullpen. It seems like everyone's gone home by the time I've packed up and I'm ready to leave. Which wasn't as out of the ordinary as I'd like it to be really. Everyone else seemed to have somewhere to be on a Friday night.

Waiting for the elevator to arrive my phone started to ring, I could see my Mom's caller ID on the screen. If I just let it go I know she'll call back later, may as well get it out of the way. I take a deep breath in anticipation before I answer.

"Hey what's up?" I answer, stepping inside the elevator as the doors ping open.

"Hi sweetie, I've got good news! Do you remember David? That lovely boy, he helped out your Father that summer in high school?" I know what's coming and rub my temple, trying to stifle the headache I know is coming. As I answer a hand slides between the elevator doors, popping them open again.

Dr. Fucking Reid walks in, and he looks about as happy to see me as I am to see him. I make eye contact and look away just as fast, willing him away with my mind. "Yes Mom, I remember him, why are you telling me this?" I already know the answer but I'm fed up, she still sounds excited when she responds.

"Well you won't believe it! I ran into him at the market this morning and I thought you'd like it if I passed on your phone number to him, maybe for the weddi-" it took all I had not to shout into the receiver, and maybe I would've had the elevator been empty.

"Mom! Jesus!" I have to reign myself in, but I have a bad idea, "You know what, I'm actually sorted. I've got a date lined up now" I'm not sure why I said it with no real plan in place. She sounds even more excited than I've ever heard her.

"Oh my, that's amazing sweetie! That was fast, I can't believe you found one since this morning, it's someone from work so?" she assumes, and I'm just not thinking fast enough to correct her.

"Mmhmm, yeah" I'll figure out the logistics later I rationalize.

"Oh! Is it that boy you're always on about, the one who teases you?" she asks, and her voice is full of joy, and it makes me feel horrible that I'm lying already, and that I'm going to let her down.

"Yup, that's the one, look Mom I gotta go, I'll talk to you later! Night" I blurt out so fast it has to be obvious I'm nervous.

I can hear a stifled chuckle behind me. Fuck. How loud is my phone speaker. Could he hear that. Surely not. But this elevator was completely silent. The doors open and I have to stop myself from running to my car at top speed. Instead I walk out just a little faster than normal, turning around to shoot him a small wave goodbye. And he's got this devious smirk on his face that makes my stomach turn.

Sitting into my car I pull out my phone to text Garcia immediately.

I'm on my way to yours right now. It's urgent.

——

Traffic's light so it takes maybe 10 minutes before I arrive at Garcia's place. My mind's racing and my body takes me there on autopilot. Why did I say any of that, why did I even answer the damn phone. Why did I wave goodbye to Spencer, I never usually did that. Maybe that's why he had that look on his face. Maybe he was just thinking of something funny that happened earlier and it had nothing to do with me at all. That was something he'd do to mess with me for sure.

How was I going to walk this back with my Mom, she was just gonna have more questions that I couldn't answer. Fuck.

Garcia buzzed me up and her door was open for me by the time I got up the stairs. This little purple apartment had become my second home. It was where I spent most of my evenings off, laughing on the same sofa I was collapsing face first into right now. Garcia nestles in beside me and runs her hand over my hair, "Hey sweet pea, what's happening? I don't want to sound too concerned but you're not giving me much to go off? Are you dying, is there drama? You're going to have to tell me what's so urgent before I burst a blood vessel?"

I let out a muffled, "is drahmuh" into the pillow, Garcia shakes my shoulders.

"Sit up babe, damn!" I have to heave myself out of the pillows, sitting upright on the sofa beside her, clutching one of the pillows in my arms.

"It's drama" I repeat,

"Well, out with it then, you know I'll take all the drama I can get! Spill, spill" she rushes me along. I'm already apprehensive, Reid's her coworker too, but if anyone would understand why this was such an issue it was gonna be her.

"Okay, I'm after doing something stupid and I think I really need your advice" I cringe already, thinking back to the elevator, throwing out my words faster, I continue the story, mostly trying to get it over with, "my Mom called again when I was on the way out tonight and she was trying to set me up with this guy, and Reid was there, and I got all flustered, and I told her I had a date already" I throw my head down into the pillow again.

"Wait why was Reid there?" she looks like she's trying to fit puzzle pieces together and she's getting nowhere, "And what's the drama?"

"Shit Garcia, it was in the elevator and it was all quiet, and maybe he heard the call, maybe he didn't but he had this fuckin' look on his stupid face" I can't shake the smug little smirk, it's burned inside my eyelids. Garcia's face falls in what looks like disappointment.

"Ugh Y/N! That's nothing chill out, why does it matter if he heard your call? I know you guys are all weird but none of that is any of his business anyway!" she shoo's her hand in the air, dismissing the whole situation.

"No Garcia, it is his business now" I have to close my eyes when I say it, I can't look at her "I told my Mom that he was my date, well, I didn't say his name or anything, she assumed it was someone from work and so I just agreed, and then she suggested that it was him and then I fucking panicked Pen, I fucked up so bad. What do I do?"

I finally opened my eyes to look up at Garcia. She was sitting in pure silence, pursing her lips in what seemed like contemplation. The puzzle pieces finally slotting together. It's as though a light bulb goes off behind her eyes and she bursts out in fits of laughter. Doubling over on herself before finally taking a few breaths to calm herself down. I'm honestly not sure why she finds the whole thing so funny, she know's how needlessly annoying he's made my life, she's seen it first hand and heard me talk about it over and over again in this very apartment over pizza.

"Garcia, this is not fucking funny! This is serious!" I try to calm her down, I need advice not whatever this is.

"I'm so sorry Y/N, I love you dearly. But this isn't funny, this is hilarious. It's like you're Sandra Bullock in some mid-90's rom com. I love it" I don't love it, in fact I hate it. I nearly snap at her but pull myself back.

"Pen, come on, help me out. What do I do with this, how do I fix it?" I plead.

She stops laughing and pulls out her phone, "Okay, I'm sorry. I'm going to order us a pizza, and we're gonna sort this thing out together, sound good?" I just nod and collapse back into the sofa. I think I feel better now that I've gotten it out in the open.

----

Penelope makes us tea while we wait for the pizza, she keeps lemon & ginger in her cabinet for me, just like I keep mint for her. The warm mug and the steam calm me down. After a few minutes alone to think about it I start to figure it out a little better. I figure I can just lie to my Mom for a while, it might suck but I can pretend for a bit and then make up some excuse as to why he can't come closer to the time. Then I can just bring Garcia instead and everyone's happy. I'm about to float my plan to her there's a knock on her door. I was so caught up that I hadn't really noticed quite how starving I'd gotten. Leaping up of the sofa to grab the door.

I swing it open but it's not the pizza guy. Somehow it's the opposite of the pizza guy, my worst nightmare is on the other side of the door. He must notice my eyes blow completely wide. "Y/N!" he says, more of a statement than a question really, like he's telling himself that he's actually seeing me in the doorway. I'm not as gentle.

"What the fuck are you doing here Reid?!" I can't even disguise my anger. He seems a little flustered, like he's got absolutely no idea how to proceed.

"Um, uh, is Garcia here? I can, um, I can just come back later?" he swallows hard and shakes his head, before I can agree and tell him to get lost Penelope races to the door, pulling it wide open.

"Nope, that won't be necessary Doctor! Come on in, you're right on time sweetheart" she waves him in and he walks past me, his demeanor changing almost instantly. He's smug, like he's won whatever battle this was. And I hate it. Though he's still as confused as me despite the newfound attitude. Reid sits down on the sofa, right where I had been sitting. I bite my tongue and sit on the opposite end.

"Are you okay Garcia?" he asks with a genuine concern, "What's going on, what was the emergency?". He's not stupid, he knows she's not in danger now that he's here. But he wants answers. I don't know that I've ever seen him this confrontational with anyone, well anyone but me. The entire time I’m staring her down as she sits in the armchair opposite the two of us. My keys are in my pocket and my car's right outside. I could just jump up and make a break for it. Escape.

"You know what Doc, you won't believe it but I'm not actually the one with the emergency" she takes a beat, and I'm starting to think that I might understand why people murder other people after all these years, "Y/N has something urgent she needs to talk to you about" she's silent for another moment, and she almost looks giddy, "Actually Spencer, you might already know a little something about the matter already, now that I think about it" she smirks, and it's pure joy.

My keys are in my hand ready to bolt when the doorbell chimes again. "Oh, that'll actually be the pizza this time, if you two will excuse me" she hops up out of the armchair and races to the door, leaving the two of us alone in a horrible silence. The tension is almost too much, I want to speak but I really have no idea what to say, or how to even start saying it. But he starts.

"Y/N what's going on, I feel like I'm out of the loop here? What am I missing?" he asks, and there's something uncharacteristically genuine about the way he says it, but he can't turn to look at me as he speaks. I almost want to let my guard down and just have a conversation but I can’t force myself to do it. "Shut up Reid." is all I mutter, folding my arms across my chest.

He turns sharply on the sofa to face me. "Hey Y/N. Believe it or not I'm about as happy as you with whatever kind of Parent Trap situation Garcia's got going on here. But from what I'm picking up on you've got a problem and I'm supposed to be able to help with it. So do you want to tell me what's going on or not? I can just go?" I can see that there's an anger bubbling right below the surface, threatening to burst. I know I shouldn't but I let him stew in silence for a little too long and he jumps up off the sofa.

"Y'know what, typical" he mutters, rolling his eyes as he says it, "this is all about you." he throws his bag over his shoulders and begins to walk towards the door. Something in me just snaps.

"All about me?! Are you fucking kidding? I've been tip-toeing around you for years, ever since I joined this damn unit!" I shout as Garcia comes back into the room, pizza box and plates in her hands.

"So, who's hungry?" Garcia asks, trying to break the tension, or pretending there's no tension at all. Reid shakes his head in disbelief and rubs his temple before he speaks again, "Actually I was just gonna head out" he gestures to the door, "I'm clearly not wanted here so I'm gonna leave you guys to it." Spencer makes a move to leave but Garcia grabs the strap of his shoulder bag, yanking him back ever so slightly before he really has the chance to escape.

"You are going absolutely nowhere kid" She points back to the sofa, "get back there" she glances to me, staring with far too much intensity. "You too, sit." Her voice is more stern than I've ever heard it, even while we were on a case. I can't help but obey her command and I sit back down on the sofa in silence. Followed by Reid, clearly processing the same uneasy feeling of a serious Penelope.

She sits opposite the two of us again. "Y/N, Spencer, I love the two of you with all of my heart, albeit separately, and I would die for either one of you. But you've got to chill the hell out!" she says it like she's had it bottled up forever. The tension that releases from her as she says it looks euphoric.

She opens up the pizza box and lays it on the coffee table and takes out a slice for herself. Taking a bite she leaves the two of us in stunned silence. Once she finishes the mouthful she turns to me specifically, "Y/N you tell him, or I will." dead serious. And the feeling in my belly is like I've just fallen down an elevator shaft.

My stomach is in knots as I turn to Spencer on the sofa next to me. His face is puzzled and I think I might be able to make out pure terror in his expression. I don't know that I've ever been looked at like this before and my stomach screws up tighter. I have to take a deep breath and I can't believe I'm about to say it. "Fuck it" I have to take another breath almost immediately so I just have to force the rest out, "I don't know if you heard the call I was on while we were in the elevator earlier?" I look up to gauge his reaction and I can see his face relax, and worse than that, one corner of his mouth lifts into a sort of smile. It's a look of pure smug satisfaction and I think I might scream. I have to close my eyes because I really don't think I can look at that face as I say the next part.

"My sister is getting married in a few months and my Mom's been on my ass to find a date for the wedding and she keeps trying to set me up with these losers, so I fucking panicked, and I told her you were my date." by the time the sentence is out my eyes have screwed up so tight it feels like I have to pry them open.

He sits in silence for too long. Thinking, maybe?

"So I'm the boy who teases you then?" he grins. So he did hear. And he did laugh. He looks far too self satisfied. Now he knows he's right. He knows I've talked to my Mom about him, that he's gotten in my head. I can tell from his smile that he's savoring the moment. Mostly because I can't slap the smug smile off his face I drop my head into my hands. In an effort to disappear I guess.

"So," he says, taking a moment, "is that all you wanted to say then?" he asks, lighthearted and obnoxious, back to his usual self. I snap back to reality, shooting my head back up.

"What do you mean is that all?" I throw back genuinely shocked,

"Is that all you had to say Y/N? Can I go now? It's a long bus ride home y'know" he smirks but makes no effort to move. He can't possibly be making me do this.

"Well no, obviously!" I stutter, "I mean, are you, will you, uh?" I can't bring myself to say it out loud. He leans in on the sofa looking directly at me, refusing to break eye contact.

"Did you have something you wanted to ask me Y/N?" I just want to smack that fucking look off his face,

"Fuck you Spencer Reid" I almost whisper under my breath, but Garcia snaps me back to reality.

"Hey!" she looks at me, stern again, "Ask him." it's not a question, or a suggestion, it's a command.

"Fine okay" I scrunch my eyes up again, "Will you come to my sisters wedding with me as my fake boyfriend?" I curl up into myself as I say it, I can almost feel the bile rising up from my stomach. Like I'm having a biological reaction to the whole thing.

Reid crosses his arms and sinks back on the sofa, like he's performing the act of thinking. He's considering my offer to make me squirm.

When he finally speaks he says "Well I would Y/N, but I really fail to see what's in it for me" he's after getting cocky now.

Garcia pipes up, excited, "Oh, Oh! I know! I have an idea!" she interjects, "Spencer remember how a while ago, back after your apartment flooded you were all all worried about your antique books and prints and stuff?" he nods, "Well Y/N could digitize the collection for you as a back up? I know you're a technophobe? C'mon Y/N, you know you could do that no sweat, and it would take you a lifetime alone Spencer?" I really don't want to admit it but she's right. Even I knew Reid was adverse to any technology that wasn't vital, but it was your specialty. And maybe that was a good trade off, a job like that would be near impossible for him to pull off without help. I take a glance over at Reid and he seems to have had the same train of thought as me. He lets out an exaggerated sigh and relaxes his posture.

"Fine, I guess that's a fair trade. I'm in." he resigns and I almost can't believe it. I'm barely processing the whole conversation as he sticks his hand out to me, I'm confused for a second before I grab it and shake it firmly. Condemning myself to whatever's about to happen. And it's not the time to be thinking about it but maybe this is the first time Spencer and I have ever touched? But I shove that thought away.

Garcia's positively beaming and she's not even trying to hide it. "Now it's like you're both in a Sandra Bullock movie, oh, but you're Hugh Grant maybe?" she points to Reid.

"Don't push it" I shoot in her direction, taking a slice of pizza, now that my anxiety stomach has sort of passed.

Once the pizza's been eaten in near completely awkward silence Spencer stands up off the sofa. His unsure demeanor has returned and he looks nervous. "I actually should get going this time" he says but Garcia pipes up to protest,

"No, it's not even late!"

"It takes me a while to get back home, thank you though Pen. For... this?" he gestures to the whole living room, "Night" he waves. He's almost made it to the door before I stand up out of my seat. I'm not really sure what comes over me, maybe it's gratitude, maybe it's guilt, or maybe I'm just exhausted.

"Wait Spencer. Let me give you a ride home?" I ask and it's like it's not even me saying it .

"Thanks, but I think I can make it home just fine" he dismisses, and there’s an antagonizing tone in his voice that snaps me right back to our usual rapport.

"I'm trying to do a nice thing here, fuck! Just let me do something nice!" I snap, and he throws his arms up in surrender.

"Fine alright, if it'll make you feel better"

"Fuck you Reid" I mutter under my breath and I sort of hope that he does hear me really. If he's gonna be hostile about this I can be too. I give Garcia a hug goodbye but I'm going to scold her for this whole thing later.

----

I lead the way outside and climb into my car, Spencer hops into the passenger seat and it feels as strange as always to be alone with him. Especially because it's not an accident, and it's not in work. Maybe this was a horrible idea. He seems like he's unwilling to break the silence, so I just get it over with.

"Where the hell do you live man? I'm gonna need directions." I say, as deadpan as I can muster, which probably isn't all that intimidating.

"Sorry, yeah, so you're gonna want to turn on the ignition" he teases. I definitely wasn't intimidating enough.

"Don't push it" I say, turning to give him a cruel stare, he just reacts with a smirk, that same one from the elevator earlier.

"Oh, I'm pushing it?" he asks, feigning disbelief

"I'll kick you out of this damn car" is all I can think to say. He barely responds, he just lets out a soft chuckle. I want to ask 'what's so funny' but he speaks before I can get the words out.

"I can't believe you talk to your Mom about me" he continues to laugh. That's enough.

"You know what Reid, of course I have! I work with actual murderers on a daily basis and somehow you've been the only real source of friction in my life since I joined the BAU!" He stops giggling a little, but not entirely, he looks like he's making an effort to contain himself.

"I'm sorry. I guess I just never knew I got to you like that" he still finds the whole thing amusing, but I sure as hell don't.

"Directions, now" I demand, looking straight out the front windshield.

"Fine, keep going straight on this road for a while and I'll tell you when to turn" he says, finally playing nice.

The two of us drive silently for most of the journey, the radio playing softly in the background. Eventually we arrive outside his building, and it's nicer than I thought it would be. But I have no idea what I was really basing that on. For some reason it hadn't occurred to me that Dr. Reid lived in an actual home, I had pictured him sleeping upside down in a cave maybe, or in a cryogenic chamber with all the other life-like genius robots.

"So," he says, breaking the silence, "When is this wedding?"

"4 months from now, in and around" I respond, matter of factly. Spencer nods, taking it in.

"Alright, so I've got 4 months, in and around, to learn enough to convincingly pass as your loving boyfriend. Doesn't sound so difficult." he jokes, his tone harsh and sarcastic.

"Look Spencer, I know this is insane and honestly kind of stupid. But in all seriousness, you can back out right now if you're not on board with whatever this is. I'm telling you this is the last exit ramp." I try to say it with sincerity, giving him a genuine out if he's not comfortable with the weird set-up that Penelope pulled on us both. He thinks on it for a moment and shakes his head.

"So how are we gonna do this?" he asks, and I really thought he was going to back out. So I don't have an actual answer.

"Well, I uh, I haven't really given a plan much thought. How about I come over and start working on some of the stuff you want digitized like Garcia mentioned and I can use the time to give you the footnotes on my life?" I suggest, at least that would make it easier to knock things out all at once. Rather than having to spend even more of my free time with Reid than necessary. He looks content with the improvised plan.

"Alright, sounds good." he undoes his seatbelt and opens the door to hop out of the car before turning back to me, "Are you coming inside or what?"

— —

Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

[spaceorphan18]

99 Perspectives on a Single Love Story #48

A/N: The Story of Kurt and Blaine told through the eyes of everyone else but them. Each chapter is a different perspective in the ongoing tale of their love story.

I started something like this a while back - and now I’m taking the idea and really running with it. Each chapter is a ficlet of a different character at a different point in Kurt and Blaine’s life - documenting their love story. This starts in Audition, and each chapter will be paired with a different episode until reaching Dreams Come True.

[Ao3]

***

Eli C. (The Break Up) 

“You look like shit.”

It’s Friday morning. Eli slides into a chair at his usual table at the coffee shop. His best friend Becca is already there, sipping on her nonfat mocha with extra whipped cream, grinning like an amused fool. He’s glad someone can be so cheery this early in the morning.

“Lay off, I had a long night.” Eli savors the taste of his own black coffee - hoping it’ll kick in so he can at least pay half attention in class.

“Did you now?” Becca’s eyebrow is raised high with interest.

Eli lets out a groan, leaning back in his chair. “You don’t want to hear about it.”

Becca leans forward. “No, I think I do. What trashy thing did you do now?”

Eli takes another drink of his coffee, settling in. Fine. It’s not like Becca ever lets these things go. “You know how I’ve been on those show choir message boards for the past year or so?”

“Oh, god, this again?” She’s more delighted than appalled.

“I’m allowed to have my hobbies.”

“Yeah, your totally gay hobbies.”

“Says the woman who has her hand in pussy any chance she can get.”

“Anyway…” Becca pushes on. “Your totally normal obsession with show choirs, continue…”

“About week ago, I get to chatting with this guy named Blaine.”

“Really? His name is Blaine?” Becca lets out a hardy laugh. “Of course this story is going to get gayer.”

“Hey, you wanted to hear it.” Eli pushes back.

“Okay, okay, continue.”

“So we get to chatting, and I’m flirty and he’s flirty back, or at least that’s how I took it. So a couple days ago I looked him up on Facebook. Turns out the guy is totally hot - in that classic movie star kind of way.” Eli thinks about it - how it was really pretty harmless at the beginning. Maybe he misread the situation? Maybe he didn’t. Does he regret it? No, not really.

Becca grins her annoyingly devilish grin. “Did you go weak in the knees?”

“You know what, I did - so shut it,” Eli continues. “So, I asked if he wanted to hook up sometime.”

Becca feigns being impressed. “Wow - and he agreed without even seeing you? I mean - it’s not like your profile picture is telling a whole lot.”

“It’s a metaphor, Becca.”

“It’s overcompensation, Eli.”

“Anyway, yes he came over and we hooked up. And that’s that.” Eli doesn’t think there’s much more to tell - but Becca doesn’t seem satisfied.

“That cannot be the full story.”

“Do you really want the sordid details of my sex life?”

“Hey, you got to hear the comedy and tragedy that was Veronica Stalls, so yeah, I do.”

“Okay it was…” Eli lets out a long breath. The image of Blaine remains seared in his head - the moment he first saw him in person, showing up at his dorm room with a sad kind of beauty about him. He had been captivating - but Eli had always been one for lost causes. “The whole thing ended up being very odd. We agreed to meet at my place at seven, right? Well, he doesn’t show up. And I didn’t think much of it - cause I mean, hooking up with internet people can sometimes be sketchy. But then about quarter after ten, he knocks on my door. So, I let him in, and there’s very little talking. Like, the dude was all over me almost the second he walks in the door.”

“Um, hot.”

“More like very aggressive,” Eli corrects. Had it been hot? Yes, surely. Did something feel utterly wrong? Absolutely. Did he want to give up sex that night? Not even a little bit. “Not that it wasn’t a turn on. I just wasn’t expecting it. Online the guy is so polite and almost demure. I figured I’d have to be the one to push him a little. But nope, we were on the bed making out and grinding in, like, ten minutes.”

“Hey, no-strings-attached sex sounds kinda nice.”

In theory, it had been very nice. “Yeah, still…” Eli tilts his head back and forth as he thinks back on it. “It was like… it was like he wasn’t really there?” He remembers Blaine’s vacancy very clearly. It had been just a hook-up. No reason for Eli to take that personally, but some kind of connection would have been nice. Maybe even acknowledgement of what they were doing. Blaine, however, gave him nothing. “He gave me a handjob, and it was ‘meh’ to be honest with you. No finesse at all. Jerked me off as fast as he could. Then I asked if I could go down on him and, oh boy, that froze him up.”

Becca’s eyes grow wide. She sees people. It’s why they’re friends. “Um, so this already sounds like there’s some issues going on here.”

“Oh, clearly,” Eli nods. “But I mean, we weren’t hooking up to deconstruct whatever messed up feelings he was having. I was pretty clear from the outset that it was just a hookup. At least, I thought I was. Anyway, he finally let me go down on him and…”

“...and?” Becca’s unusually hanging onto his words.

“The dude’s dick was fucking gorgeous.” Eli licks his lips thinking about it again. If there had been one bright spot about last night - it was that dick. “I almost got hard again just looking at it.”

“Oh, I hear ya,” Becca says in a bout of sincerity. “Veronica Stalls’s tits, man. At least I get to keep the image of those in my brain for the rest of my life.”

“Right? Man…” Eli looks around. There are barely any customers there - they’re pretty alone. Still, he feels a little strange being so graphic in public. But Becca’s eyes are hard on him, so he continues. “So, yeah, I start to blow him, but he doesn’t really get into it, you know? Like most guys will pull my hair, or fuck my mouth, or whatever, but he just lay there letting me do it to him. And, I mean, seriously, I have no regrets sucking on a dick that delicious, but it did bum me out that he wasn’t, at least, a little into it. Took him fucking forever to come, too.”

“Yeah, he totally sounds suspect,” Becca agrees. “You were safe, right?”

“Oh, totally,” Eli nods. “So afterwards, we kind of make out a little, or more so, I kiss him a little, but he’s just, like, looking as if he’s going to throw up. So I got up to get some water, and by the time I get back, he’s pretty much dressed and out the door.”

“Oh my god,” Becca says, as if it is all clicking for her. “You were, like, the other guy, Eli. This dude totally has a boyfriend or something.”

“Not gonna lie, the thought crossed my mind,” Eli admits. To be honest, it had been fully on his mind but he hadn’t wanted to bring it up. Was he selfish for that? Was he selfish for just wanting to get off? “He blocked me this morning, so… I guess that was that. I feel a little bad though. Not that he blocked me - I guess I expected that. Just that I took part in whatever bad turn this guy was taking.”

“Don’t,” Becca shakes her head emphatically. “You didn’t do anything wrong. And honestly - sounds like you’re better off not being a part of whatever mess this dude’s life is.”

“True,” Eli gives a shrug. “He was a nice guy, though. I hope he figures his shit out.” He gives one last lingering thought to Blaine, hoping wherever he is today that he isn’t full of regret. Eli isn’t. Ah well. Moving on. “Meanwhile… I have a couple of hits from Grindr I should tell you about.”

“Oh, dear god…”

[melrosing]

the funniest explanation for the "brienne is going to be pregnant with jaime's child" theory i've heard is that jaime has weak pull-out game lol. but it's a given that jb are going to bang and we have to rely on that. i know it happened on the show so people are convinced it's going to happen in the books, but what do you think? i know you're ??? about marriage and children, but don't you think brienne/jaime would want to be married if they ever decide to be intimate? won't it be dishonourable to bed a woman he hasn't married? And i refuse to accept any one night stand/fuckboy jaime theories. sorry lots of questions.

JB banging is telegraphed so blatantly in the books that literally whatever your endgame expectations are, I don’t know how you could deny it. like I’m always in two minds about marriage/kids/Jaime even surviving, but JB are going to fuck. I have litch rally no doubts.

like first off, they’re both aroused by the sight/thought of each other. there’s absolutely no need to include that unless you mean to go somewhere with that mutual attraction. like if GRRM wants them to be a chaste romance, all he has has to do is the standard pining but nooope they’re full on checking each other out and getting hot and sweaty about it. let them fuck!!!

second, both are kind of a chekhov’s gun in the sex department. Jaime states at the beginning of his arc that he’s only ever slept with one woman. and he’s recently broken up with said woman. so. wonder where that’s going. Brienne, meanwhile, is widely known as the Maid of Tarth, with her maidenhood coming up repeatedly: Brienne, despite having desires, likely assumes that she either won’t lose her maidenhood or that it’ll be taken by force at some point – she hasn’t been allowed to view it as something she has much agency in keeping or losing, but obviously she’s never had a safe and caring relationship that would afford her that agency. so, wonder where that’s going. i will tell you. jb bonetown

then there’s that swordfight they have in ASOS, and everyone and their dog has written about the sheer amount of innuendo that’s going on there but the fact remains: the whole point of the scene is to establish JB’s physical chemistry. it says, look how evenly matched they are, look at how they surprise and impress one another: and now imagine what this looks like in bed. the fact that we’ve already had Jaime's whole ‘only feels truly alive when fucking or fighting’ thing is also an undercurrent here, like Jaime's language of passion is in this kind of physicality, and the language of their sparring comprises both: it's Brienne speaking it back to him

and finally there’s just the fact that Brienne and Jaime are both kind of critiques of medieval purity culture embodied by Arthurian figures like Sir Galahad, who pointedly does not fuck and does no wrong. Brienne’s POV literally interrogates heroes like this through Ser Galladon: his story might sounds good on paper, but as the esteemed scholar Nimble Dick points out, it’s no good trying to be this Perfect Knight - we’re all mortal and we have to defend ourselves as such. so I don’t see JB's courtship being used to promote traditional notions of abstention and chastity purported by Galahad, or any kind of courtship that’s somehow ‘above’ ~mortal pleasures~

anyway they’re going to fuck. as for whether they’d wait for marriage, I don’t really think so. once they’ve realised mutual attraction, I don’t see any reason why they’d put off sleeping together: Brienne’s much less of a stickler for tradition than people say, given that she’s actively avoided the traditional route for a Westerosi lady, and in fact is just wandering the Riverlands following her own rules at the moment. she follows her heart and tries not to care too much about what other people think, so if she really wants to fuck Jaime, I don’t think she’s gonna be worrying all that much about what ceremonies ought to go first.

Jaime meanwhile has demonstrated that he doesn’t really care about oaths of celibacy when the desire is pressing enough: he manages to reject Cersei in the midst of a break-up, and he can ignore interest from Pia given there’s no deeper attraction there, but like given what we’ve established is going on between JB… can see his willpower being significantly depleted lol. and as we see with the Night’s Watch, celibacy is a pretty easy vow to break, marriage is a much bigger one, so the wedding is probably the one they’d have the lengthy conversation about, not fucking.

the only thing I could possibly see Jaime thinking twice about is the dishonour it might bring Brienne but lbr: if she says she doesn’t care (and I don’t think she will particularly), then honestly life’s too short. and what’s more, marrying the Kingslayer arguably brings more dishonour and strings attached, so can’t really see Jaime saying it’d be better if they waited till she was Brienne Lannister lol.

buuut they’re both medieval nobles so I imagine they are at least going to consider what marriage might look like. we see with Robb and Jeyne that as soon as a two nobles get together, marriage is gonna at least cross their minds as the next natural step. and there’s enough foreshadowing of that between JB to suggest that they’d both be interested in the prospect

anyway. the GOT one-night-stand stuff is just stupid, who knows what was going through D&D’s minds (if anything), but literally nothing exudes JB less than ‘hey I’m horny and you’re virgin shall we just get it out our systems :)'

[stainedglassthreads]

A list of my thoughts on Omnipresence Over Mortals, spoilers obviously-- 

-On the one hand, delighted because we got both confirmation of Signora Crimson Witch AND her true name, her kickass boss music(which maybe shared a leitmotif with Childe’s did I hear????), confirmation of a Sheet Heat-esque mechanic, AND from her expressions, implication that maybe she feels a bit of remorse over people losing their Visions, despite remaining adamant they were a ‘necessary sacrifice’, even giving us a chance to back down from the battle and leave. (Or perhaps it’s just how much I love female villains who are morally grey and rely on Violence And Arson over seduction coloring my perceptions. Either way, Playable Signora When!)

-On the other hand nooooooooo Signora died I wanted her to reunite with Bloodstained Knight. And also roll her. The second I heard it was a duel to the death I was very sad-- and then got distracted by Crimson Witch confirmation and kickass battle music. 

-On the anomalous third hand, goddamn she still insists on going down fucking fighting. Like, kinda futilely since the Fatui already had the Gnosis by then, but good job Signora. I love you you have butterfly motifs and they represent reincarnation, please come back. 

-On the increasingly alarming fourth hand, there seems to have been at least three days between Yae doing hostage exchange with Scaramouche, and Signora doing diplomacy with Raiden. Was there not enough time for Scaramouche to report he had gotten the Gnosis and for the Fatui to be withdrawn, or did he just not bother to tell Signora because he didn’t like her? He did refer to her and Childe as his ‘least reliable colleagues’ (’Least reliable, despite Signora being the one to gather two Gnoses, and being seemingly more  active than him in pursuing a third. Is it just that they’re impulsive and emotional, or does he really view them as weak or foolish compared to the other nine Harbingers?) 

-On that note, I have a feeling that that bone marrow... it’s probably gonna come back, as will how he seemed to be using the Traveller’s anger to fuel... something. At first I thought he was just kinda being an arrogant little shit, but he was purposefully baiting us. I’d say clever, but observing the Traveller’s dialogue options... they’re kinda ALWAYS two steps away from snapping the nearest Fatui’s neck, honestly. So it really isn’t that hard. 

-Also, that Ei cut ties entirely with Celestia by giving up her Gnosis years ago... it wasn’t the lore I was hoping for, nor was the reason she was gathering Visions ultimately the one I was anticipating. I was kinda hoping that she’d realized Celestia could spy on people through their Visions, and was confiscating them so they couldn’t see shit about Inazuma. But her cutting ties with Celestia, and confirming that Khaenri’ah is a major motivation in halting Inazuma’s progress and creating eternity... is still interesting. That’s four for four Archons who want nothing to do with Celestia so far. (Since Dendro was promoted exactly 500 years ago, VERY curious what their stance on Celestia will be, I still strongly believe Sumeru will be a major turning point somehow.) 

-I love boss fights where you just have All The Buffs. I also love that the end of the fight was just... Yae refusing to let her friend keep sulking all alone. I would have preferred an Ei who was a little more morally dubious, but I still like the version we got. Loneliness and loss fits with the themes of prior archons and does a lot to humanize her-- as does Yae comparing her to a child throwing a fit and locking herself in her room. 

-Also... Baal and Beelzebul. The former Archon ‘Baal’ really being Ei’s twin sister. Damn. I didn’t expect it, but I should have. There wasn’t much direct foreshadowing for it, but there’s been such a strong theme of siblings this entire game, and the Archons have such a strong theme of grief and death. It only makes sense the themes would collide in such a way for ONE of the Archons. And likewise, them both being ‘Baal’ explains why there’s never much distinction made in the books and history between the present Raiden Shogun and the past Raiden Shogun. Because from the people’s perspectives, they were probably extremely identical and always assumed the same name and role. That said... it leaves me wondering if it’s foreshadowing Abyss Twin or the Traveller dying, as Ei and Makoto have been the only other set of twins we’ve met so far. 

-We should ask Ei about our twin. Watch as she realizes the kind of loss Traveller is going to, and attempts to make amends for trying to kill us by ripping a hole straight to the bottom of the Abyss. 

-I like Ei. :) I am happy she is still alive. Even if Signora was not. 

-You know what’d be even better tho? If her Gnosis were still in her body and we did keep the Fatui from getting it and we befriended her and then in Snezhnaya Celestia calls the Archons to assault the nation and we see Ei in her puppet body but now another is pulling the strings and we have to fucking fight her again but this time she is Our Friend and doesn’t wanna do this and Tsaritsa uses her as an example of why she was gathering Gnoses while Ei physically strains against Celestia’s bonds and-- 

-Also that walk, after killing Signora while slowly leaving the Tenshukaku.... that was so fucking creepy, I was wondering if the Tatarigami(?) was still affecting the Traveller and gonna make them ill. It did an excellent job conveying their mental state. And that cutscene with the resistance and Kazuha! A bit sad he didn’t really get any lines, he said in the prologue he’d ‘seek answers from the Shogun too one day’, I kinda wanted him to at least ask after his friend. 

-So I guess Teppei’s just gonna die of old age huh. The resistance stuff at the very beginning felt a little rushed, I did see that Teppei was advancing through the ranks Weirdly Quickly, but it could’ve been cool if he tried saving the Traveller from some danger and Traveller realized ‘Hey what the fuck? What’s my friend doing with a delusion? How’d you get that, Teppei? Put that down, we need an infirmary and we need to tell Kokomi’ 

-On that note-- if using a Delusion aged the resistance at an excelerated rate... why don’t Childe and Diluc look all that old...? Does having a Vision protect them somehow? If the manga is still canon, did using a Delusion age Crepus Rangvindr into dust? 

-Signora please come back you were at Sumeru Academia you can tell me all about Sumeru while we wait for it to be released, let’s chat Old Mondstadt and Cataclysm history, Signora-- please Signora, please elaborate on your voicelines and maybe we can get you a good therapist-- 

-Also who is Lesser Lord Kusanali? I thought Dendro Archon was a he, but Lesser Lord Kusanali seems to be a she? Was the God of the Woods the he? Is someone other than Kusanali the Dendro Archon? But also as a fan of Marielda, oooooooooh FUCK YEAH KNOWLEDGE IS HOARDED KNOWLEDGE IS A RESOURCE LET’S BE KNOWLEDGE SMUGGLERS LET’S GO

-I wonder if Vision distribution is also restricted in Sumeru-- since Lisa seems to have uncovered some Forbidden Knowledge about Visions, and Knowledge is a resource, perhaps it’s also heavily restricted who can get a Vision-- and if Dendro wielders are pursuing knowledge in some way, they’re even smaller in number to prevent them from finding out Too Many Secrets...? 

-Celestia lore in Sumeru! Please Celestia Lore in Sumeru! 

-Also, Lisa character quest act 2 as prologue to Sumeru please? 

I may have forgotten some things I found interesting, and I have not yet played Ei’s Character Quest. 

[xpeachesncream]

off the grid | six

summary: it was as simple as swapping places with a stranger from across the world to get away from everything back home. that is - until you meet Jimin. things become more complicated as he unfolds a new chapter in your life that you were initially trying to avoid.

pairing: reader x pjm

genre: post-college au, christmas/holiday au | angst, fluff, smut (to come)

words: 3.7k

chapter warnings: smut chapter! unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, fingering, oral (f. receiving), slight dirty talk, cussing, possible inaccurate depiction of transportation, events and whereabouts in South Korea since i only did my research thru the internet, fluff

notes: will be wrapping this up in the next few chapters!

> series masterlist <

Jimin was going to be busy for majority of the day with his parents, which left you feeling a little sad. But, you knew he had to do what he had to do and he had offered to come by and spend time with you tonight. As you were about to head out and explore on your own with the tips he had given you, a call from an unknown number popped up on your screen.

"Hello?"

"Y/N!" Jungkook's voice came through on the other line. "I hope you don't mind, I asked Jimin for your number not too long ago."

"No, you're good." You chuckled. "What's up?"

"Wanna hang out with me and Tae? We're gonna head to Common Ground."

"Sure!"

"Sick!" He exclaims. "I'll send you our address. Do you think you'll be okay heading over?"

"Yeah, I got it." You responded, remembering Jimin's directions to his place in the event you ever needed anything.

"Okay, just let me know if you get lost and I'll come find you." You chuckled before responding with a simple 'okay' to end the call. You were confident in your memory of the directions, which led you to their place in a matter of minutes. They didn't live too far from Yana, and you remember Jimin saying so since Yana doesn't drive and would simply take public transportation to and from places.

Upon your arrival at their apartment, Taehyung was cleaning up in the kitchen while Jungkook was throwing on a jacket. Jungkook gave you a little tour of their apartment, which was surprisingly clean and smelled of vanilla birchwood. Sooner or later, the three of you were off into town to visit Common Ground, which was considered Korea's first cultural space that was made out of shipping containers. The view and the entirety of it was pretty neat, and you kind of wished Jimin was here, but Jungkook and Taehyung were just as great of travel buddies. They talked a lot about their hometowns and what it was like moving to Seoul, plus how they truly value Korea and it's culture. You were coming to learn what a truly spectacular and beautiful place it was, and it was even more refreshing to hear from the boys themselves how much they loved being from Korea.

After navigating through the crowds and having spent more money on souvenirs and clothes, the three of you decided to eat up and grab some grub. For a minute, you lost Jungkook because he ran into some people he knew, leaving you and Taehyung to eat together.

"This place is neat isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's really cool. Thanks for taking me along." He nodded as his lips poked out while eating his food. You thought it was the most adorable thing.

"You know, Jimin's been really happy since you guys started spending a lot of time together."

"Oh yeah?" You giggled. Yes, Taehyung. Expose him.

"It's actually really nice to see." He chuckled. You knew him and Taehyung had known each other the longest out of their group, but he still held a very tight relationship with Jungkook, Hoseok and Jin. "He's always been the one to take care of people. I just wanna see him happy. He does a lot for the people he cares about."

"I know, he's really the sweetest person I've ever met. He's an angel."

"He was really destroyed over his ex." You continued to listen. "He loved her, a lot. He did everything for her and sacrificed a lot to keep her happy. But she couldn't reciprocate it 100% and that killed him time and time again."

"How long ago was that?"

"About a year ago? Even then, he tried not to have any bad blood with her after she had mistreated him. He has a good heart and mind. He deserves someone good who can take care of him." Your stomach fluttered with the countless butterflies, but most of the happiness you felt, also turned into anxiety. The days were counting down and you wouldn't be here for much longer. "He really, really likes you Y/N."

"I-I do, too. But-" Taehyung looked over at you, concerned. "I'm not going to be here for much longer." You shrugged. "It really sucks."

"Why don't you stay for a little more?"

"Work. My life is back in LA." He nodded. As much as it hurt you to say that, it was true. You wished it was easy to pick up your things and move around the world, but part of you felt silly for even thinking that over a holiday-solo-vacation love story.

"It's gonna be hard, but I honestly don't think Jimin cares. I think he'd make this work with you."

"But is that fair to him? Our time difference and-and, who knows when I'll get to physically see him again? Hearing what he went through.. what if I can't give him what he deserves?"

"I know all of it sounds like a mess and like it would never work, but don't you think you two meant for a reason?" He wasn't trying to be Jimin's right-hand at the moment, he was doing this because he truly could see how the both of you genuinely felt for each other. He hadn't seen Jimin have this glow, this type of genuine happiness to him in a long, long time.

"I don't know, I guess I'm just scared, and I would never want to put Jimin through anything he doesn't deserve."

"I get you." He replies. "But I do hope you know how much he cares about you. Like, I'm really not doing this because he's my bestfriend and all." He laughed. "But because I want to see the both of you happy."

"Thank you." You smiled at him toothlessly, the thoughts now flooding your head. All you wanted to do at this point was run into Jimin's arms and never let go. It would be your new safe haven. All you wanted was Jimin.

The rest of the day with Taehyung and (finally, again) Jungkook was chill, as you grabbed some desserts and played around at a nearby park before heading home to rest. You felt a sudden wave of exhaustion hit you, so you took a quick shower, threw on an oversized tee and shorts before retreating to the bed for a nice, late afternoon nap. You quickly texted Jimin that you'd leave the door unlocked so he could just walk in case you were deadass knocked out and couldn't hear the knocks or phone ringing.

Jimin had been helping his parents do a ton of revamping at their café, while also holding down the fort and doing what he can to help during peak hours. He was exhausted, nonetheless, but was excited to see you. He jetted off to the loft with food from the café to for some dinner, all while chuckling at the text you sent, wondering what the hell Jungkook and Taehyung had put you through today to knock you the hell out.

"Y/N?" He calls out softly. No response. He gently shuts the door and chucks his shoes to the side befofe laying the food out on the kitchen counter. It's peacefully quiet, even as Jimin climbs up the steps to the bedroom area. He smiles to himself as he sees you deep into the duvet covers, sleeping deeply like a baby longing for their afternoon nap. He sits on the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing through your hair, thumb softly caressing your cheek. You slowly open your eyes and smile, immediately sitting up to throw your arms around him. He laughs into your hug, pulling you in closer and running his hands down your back.

"Miss me?"

"I did."

"Aw." He chuckled. "Come here." He cups your cheeks and places a kiss on your lips.

"What a nice way to wake up."

"Yeah? What did TaeTae and Kookie do to you today?"

"Nothing, we just walked around Common Ground." He nodded.

"That's it?"

"We may have played around at a nearby park before going home."

"There it is." He laughed. "Are you hungry?"

"Starving, actually." You stretched.

"I brought some food from the café. Mom said I better feed you well." You chuckled.

"She's the sweetest." He had quickly brought you over to the café the other day, his mom and dad being the sweetest, and most loving people you have ever come across. You could immediately tell where Yana and Jimin got their mannerisms from. His mom couldn't stop holding onto you and telling Jimin how pretty you were, almost like she was telepathically communicating with her son and telling him to stop fucking around and get with it. You couldn't help but giggle at the look on her face.

"Come on." He nodded for you to follow him downstairs. He had paninis laid out, freshly toasted, with chips and more dessert. You pushed the coffee table in the living room forward a bit so that you both could sit on the floor and enjoy a good movie while eating the food. He had asked you more about your day and if Taehyung or Jungkookie had talked shit about him while you guys were out. You couldn't help but chuckle, remembering the serious conversation you and Tae had.

"Mm, actually," You finished up your sandwich and quickly washed your hands before heading back to the living room area. "Me and Taehyung had a pretty serious talk."

"About?"

"You, what else?"

"God, what did he say?"

"Nothing." You laughed, seeing his facial expression change.

"You can't say that you had a serious talk then not talk about it."

"Aw, is someone upset?" He pouted.

"Yeah, cause I'd like to know and I thought you cared about me." He dramatically responded. "I see that you don't, since you'd rather keep me hanging on a string like this."

"You're so dramatic, Park." You pinched his side, making him laugh. His laugh was certainly becoming a weakness for you. "He just told me that you've been really happy since we've been spending time together." He nodded.

"I mean, he isn't wrong."

"He also said that you really cared about me." You looked at him blankly, trying to read his expression and body language. He smiled at you, his cheeks getting hot and rosy.

"He also isn't wrong there."

"Taehyung really knows you, then."

"Since high school." He shrugs.

"That's about it, though." You spared him the rest of the details being that you really didn't wanna spoil the evening with such sad and negative thoughts about how your time was coming to an end here. Frankly though, you knew you had to deal with it sooner or later. That talk was coming either way.

"Hm." He says, pushing the coffee table up more towards the tv and throwing a blanket over both of your legs. He silently swung his arm over your shoulder and kept watching the movie on the tv. It was awhile before he broke the silence again with a sigh, his eyes still glued ahead of him. "I really like you, Y/N. I like you a lot. It's a little scary, but you don't know how much you drive me crazy with everything you do."

You held onto his hand that was hanging loosely from your shoulder and looked over at him. "I really like you too." At this point, you feel his eyes on you. They linger from your eyes, down to your lips and back up to your eyes.

"Then will you let me take care of you?" All self-control had gone out the window after seeing the look in his eyes. It was full of passion and lust, but nothing dark. He just wanted to be close to you and make you happy. He cared, and he wanted you to see that.

"Yes." You say breathily as his face edged closer to yours. He cupped your face with his free hand, instantly pressing a kiss onto your lips. The kiss began to deepen quickly, with Jimin tracing your bottom lip with his tongue, asking for entrance. You gladly let him proceed as your hand rests against his jawline. You took the initiative to pull yourself onto his lap and straddle him, your breathing slightly hitching when you feel his hardened member through his grey sweats. Your tongues are beautifully dancing around as he holds you tightly while you grind your hips against his.

"Hey, wait. Are you sure about this?" He pulls away, knowing the moment is intensifying by the minute. "You know I wanna do right by you, Y/N. I don't wanna do anything you aren't comfortable with."

"I'm sure. I want this. I want you." You respond almost at a whisper, your lips slightly grazing his. He simply nods and brings you back with a kiss. You gently palm his member, making him hiss and groan slightly at your touch. You continue to grind your hips onto him, slowly humping him into insanity.

"Fuck Y/N, honestly, you're going to make me cum if you keep moving like that." You chuckled.

"Don't." You plant kisses along his jaw line, watching as he shuts his eyes and tilts his head back. "I'd want you to do it inside me." You whisper in his ear.

"Y-You can't say things like that." He moaned.

"Or what?"

"You're an instigator, you know that? A really cute one." He says as he chuckles and gently lays you back down onto the ground. He whips your shirt and shorts off, quickly unhooking your bra and tossing it aside. His eyes widen at the sight of your exposed breasts. "So fucking pretty." He curses under his breath as he lightly sucks on your neck and around your breasts, before grabbing a nipple in his mouth and toying around with it with his tongue. You grip onto his hair as you slightly arch your back in pleasure. He bites onto his bottom lip before placing a trail of kisses down your stomach and down to your inner thighs before rubbing your covered clit through your soaked panties. He gently presses his lips onto your covered clit, making you yearn for more. "You're so wet."

"J-Jimin." You weakly call out. "Please."

"I got you, baby." He slips down your panties and inserts a digit into your throbbing pussy. You let out a small moan as he pumps his digit in and out of you, before inserting another two, with his thumb circling your clit.

"Ohhhh, fuck!" You squeal as you continue to feel his fingers stretching you out. You feel your wetness dripping out with every pump and covering areas of your inner thighs before Jimin releases his fingers and has you lick them clean. He lets out a small grunt watching your tongue circle and suck onto his fingers. He then latches onto your clit with his mouth. You feel his tongue swipe down your folds, teasing you with an in and out motion. You jut your hips upward but Jimin does a hell of a job preventing you from moving up any higher. You squirm in his grip, feeling your high coming close. "Jimin, fuck! You're gonna make me cum." You see his eyes look up at you, this time, full of lust. He simply nods as he continues to let his tongue suck you dry and explore the insides of you - the sight being enough to tip you over and make you climax. "Jimin!" You yell his name as your body twitches from underneath his grip. He gives your pussy one last lick, causing you to tremble at the sensitivity.

"You're so fucking pretty when you call my name." He says almost at a whisper. "How else can I make you feel good, baby?" He places soft kisses along your neck and jaw. You tug on his pants, causing him to chuckle and toss his shirt and pants off to the side.

"Please."

"Please, what? Use your words, beautiful."

"I want you deep inside of me. I wanna feel you." He bites onto his bottom lip and smirks. You run your hands down his chiseled abs and his V-line, completely in awe of how beautiful this man truly was. He was driving you crazy, everything about him. His eyes, his soft hair, his scent, his body. Good god.

He removes his boxers, making his hardened cock spring out. It was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen - perfectly long and thick, with veins running upward in various places. You pump him a few times, causing him to let out small moans, before placing your thumb on his reddened head to spread the pre-cum around his tip. He lowers his body back down onto you, his member teasing your entrance and gently grazing your folds. He kisses you passionately before you watch him grab his cock and place the head at your entrance. He inches in, lowering his body back down and bringing the blanket over your bodies while watching your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"You okay?"

"Mhm." You let out, your nails already digging onto his back. He kept a steady pace and slowly eased you into it. Your moans became breathy as he picked up the pace, his hands now keeping your legs opened wider for him. "Mmmmff, Jimin." You pleaded. "Just like that."

"Fuck, babygirl. The way you call my name." He quickly tilts his head back before ramming his body into yours as he became a little rough with it. Your thighs were folded up near your stomach as he held it there and continued to thrust in and out of you. With him picking up the pace, you felt yourself about to reach your climax and cum again.

"God, I'm gonna cum." You continued to moan loudly, until you were gripping onto the blankets and your eyes were rolling back once again. He greatly slowed down his pace, letting you ride out your high once more while placing kisses along your breasts and your lips. He wraps his arms around you and brings the blanket over while he sits back against the couch and lets you straddle him once more. The blanket comfortably sits below your waist, your eyes locked with his. He simply smiles at you, tucking a strand behind your ear and caresses your cheek. You gently and slowly ride him as you lean into his hand and place a kiss on his palm. His hands drop down to your waist, gripping onto them as you kept a steady pace while resting your hands on the couch behind him. You pick up your pace as you watch him squirm underneath you. He begins to call out your name, his hisses and groans accompanying the sound of your wet pussy riding him into the sunset.

"Y/N, fuck. Y-You're gonna make me cum." He tilted his head back, his hands losing grip around your hips as you rode his cock faster. "L-like that." He stutters. "Ugh, god." He hisses. You can tell he's about to let go with the way he's holding back his moans.

"J-Jimin, hmmmmph." You tilt your head back as you feel yourself about to cum for the third time tonight. "Please cum with me." You plead as your moans get louder.

"Oh shit, I'm gonna cum." He spits out as his fingers deep into your hips. You feel him fill you up completely as you ride out the rest of your high, Jimin's head now resting against your chest as you hold him close. You both stay in the position for awhile to catch your breath. After a moment, he looks up to meet your eyes and smiles, kissing you on the lips before helping you off his lap. He helps clean you up a bit before cleaning himself up and throwing his shirt and sweats back on. You fix the blanket onto the floor and drag some pillows down from the couch so you could lay on your stomach somewhat comfortably on the floor.

"You don't wanna get up to the bed?" Jimin laughed as he kneeled and rubbed your back.

"No, I'm too comfortable now."

"That good, huh?"

"Shut up, Jimin. Leave me alone." He laughed louder.

"I'll go grab another blanket." He says, going into the storage closet to grab another thick blanket to drape over your bodies. He lays next to you, his back resting against the couch as he propped his elbow up and rested his head on his hand. He continued to rub your back as you both looked over at the TV, the movie now nearing the end.

"I have to rewind the movie." You pouted, making Jimin chuckle.

"Go ahead." He watched as you flipped the remote up and brought the movie back to the last place you remembered seeing. You sunk your body into Jimin's, his lips lightly pressing on your head. Not even 5 minutes back into the movie, you felt your eyes getting heavy.

"Ah, I'm getting so sleepy though."

"You took a nap earlier. What do you mean?"

"I worked out a lot today." He laughed and lightly tickled you, making you hit his hand away.

"I see that. Go to sleep."

"Are you going to stay?" You mumbled.

"Only if you want me to."

"Of course I do." He smiled. "But what are you going to do?"

"Watch anime or whatever is on Netflix. Don't worry about me."

"Mmkay."

"Goodnight, baby." He whispers in your ear before kissing your cheek. The word baby made the butterflies come back (and the pussy throb, yet again, but you shoved that in the back of your mind because you definitely didn't have energy to go another round, as much as you wanted to).

Jimin watches as you quickly fall asleep, smiling to himself while he continues to play with your hair. He was happy. So happy. More than he's ever felt before and he wasn't sure how you were doing it. He was caught in your spell and he didn't even see it coming. You had him so undone. All he wanted to do was make this work with you and he was willing to, more than you knew. He didn't care about the time difference, he didn't care about your life being back in LA, he just didn't care about anything you've worried about because he believed you were worth it and he was going to put in this effort. You could figure everything else out later, but he just wanted this to be.

Alexa, play: Vibez x Zayn

[cherryrogers]

➸ protector

pairing: bucky barnes x reader | mob au

warnings: swearing, mild violence + assault, stalking, mentions of illness + death, fluff.

word count: 7.4k

synopsis: Ironically, the man with blood on his hands and a permanent target on his back was the one you’d never felt safer with.

a/n: mob au’s are top tier so of course i had to write one at some point. i hope that this one is even a smidge as good as every other one out there !! please enjoy and any feedback is appreciated !!

A dark blanket had encompassed the city; swallowed the highest of skyscrapers and narrowest of alleyways. Engulfed shamrock green parks and swept through empty office buildings. Allowed for the busy city to sleep, ironically — this was New York, after all.

Below it, along a quiet street bordering Central Park, walked an unlikely duo. One who’d only ever known violence. The other hoped never to come across it. Yet under the deep ink sky, indulged in each other’s company, no two people seemed to harmonise so well.

“I thought you were walking me home, not taking me down every street in Manhattan.”

“What, have you had enough of me for the night?”

Furrowing your brows, you stopped in your tracks. “Is that what you’re doing? Stringing out the walk back so that the night doesn’t end so soon?”

Bucky looked back at you, a grin pulling at his lips. “Maybe.”

You smirked, poking a finger into his chest. “Tell me, Barnes — do your mob friends know that you’re such a sap?”

Eyes glimmering under the moonlight, Bucky shot a glare your way before slinging an arm back around your shoulder. “I guess I better get you back then — obviously you have better things to be doing...”

“And a drama queen,” You teased, leaning into his embrace. “Some big bad mob boss you are.”

“Yeah, yeah — give it a rest.” He rolled his eyes, only pulling you closer.

It wasn’t often in his line of work that Bucky met someone who could make him momentarily forget about the life he led. In fact, you weren’t in his line of work at all, and that’s why it was so easy with you. Frankly, everyone around him either worked for him or wanted to kill him; it was difficult to find anyone between the two that he could simply be himself with.

While he had power over Hell’s Kitchen, that didn’t mean it was safe for him to roam the streets freely. Ever since he was a child, his father had told him to always assume that he was being watched, whether it was by the cops or members of other mobs looking to cause trouble. Everyone he ever associated with became a target; a weakness. Someone whose death would throw him off his game. That’s why he never made friends, always sticking to the few ones he had who’d been in the crime world as long as he’d been.

Following a messy run-in with another mob on a night which felt like centuries ago, Bucky wandered into a random bar in hopes of clearing his head with as much whiskey as the cash in his pocket would pay for. But the bartender that night, well, she wasn’t having any of it. As it turned out, a conversation lasting until 2am with her did more for him than the strong liquid in his glass had ever done.

That night, he decided that perhaps he could have one none-criminal, none-mob, none-person that has a weapon on them at all times friend. Just one; just a friend.

He was honest with you about his work. At first, he wasn’t even sure you believed him. Because why would you? You couldn’t count the amount of times guys had made up horribly unbelievable lies about their occupations in an attempt to make an impression. ‘Mob boss’ would certainly be a new one, but not any more or less convincing than a supposed world-renowned doctor or a highly successful entrepreneur that had trouble adding up their bill total.

There was certainly something different about Bucky; in the way he carried himself, in how he talked. Plus, his eyes tended to always drift back to the entrance, as if he was anticipating someone’s arrival. While a doctor is a more common career for the average man than a mob boss, if anyone happened to be one, your guess would be the guy that was able to drink on weeknights without worrying about having a hangover for work the next day.

“It’s pretty dark around here, that’s all,” You shrugged, eyeing the star-scattered sky. “And muggers don’t make exceptions for the mob, unfortunately.”

“You don’t think I could take on a mugger? What do you think I do for a living?”

“You know, you’ve never actually told me...” You shifted your gaze to him, watching as his brows pinched together and the smile slowly disappeared from his lips.

Any knowledge you had of mobsters and gangs was from the movies. All the crime, killing, money — it seemed insane to even speculate that it was happening right under your nose. You’d only known Bucky for a few months, not once had you even questioned his work because you’d convinced yourself that it was better not to. That you liked the person he was with you, and whoever he was at work wasn’t any of your concern.

It spiked your curiosity, though. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d done anything that’d horrify you if you saw it on the news. Being a bartender, you met new people almost every day — you had a skill in distinguishing good and bad people. Bucky had a good heart; there was nothing about him that signalled as a red flag. He genuinely cared about you — why else would he walk you home from work every chance he got? As well as being the reason for your full tip jar most nights, and simply spending most nights with you when he could be anywhere else in New York City.

A sigh fell from Bucky’s lips as he stopped the two of you under a lit street lamp. He brought a hand to your face, gently tucking your hair behind you ear. “It’s complicated, dollface.“

“Is it?” You asked quietly, uncertainty evident in your expression. “Or are you afraid of telling me in case it’ll scare me away?”

Bingo. A guilty grin pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Not many people can read me like that.”

You let out a laugh. “Well, not many people have the pleasure of talking to you for hours almost every night.”

“Yeah, you’re a pretty lucky girl.”

Scrunching your nose, you softly whacked at his chest. Honestly, picturing Bucky as a leading mobster in the city was difficult sometimes. Almost always, there was a smile on his lips and a glint in his eyes — nothing like the stereotype at all.

Within moments, he’d pressed his lips into a narrow line, tracing his hands down your arms before clasping your hands in his. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, or about this city. If you asked, I’d explain it all to you, but I don’t think you want that on your conscience. I was born into this life; I do what I do because I have to and it’s nowhere near an easy job. It’s a scary world to get caught up in, babe — one that I’ll protect you from for as long as I can. That is, if you’ll let me.”

Taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you let your eyes drop to his chest, covered by the white dress-shirt and dark blazer that he always tended to sport. It occurred to you that his work had to be far more dangerous than you’d imagined. Truthfully, it worried you. What was so bad that he didn’t want on your conscience? Who would want to hurt you if you happened to get caught up in his world?

You agreed with him; it was a scary world, and you were a completely stranger to it. However, something else occurred to you as well. In the time that you’d known Bucky, that he kept you company on your late shifts, that he walked you the distance from the bar to your apartment every time without fail, you never once questioned your safety with him.

There was a time when you’d spend most of your tips from the shift you’d just finished to hire a cab to take you home, afraid of what hid in the shadows on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. Alternatively, you’d wear a large winter coat on warm summer nights so you could carry pepper spray in your pocket and access it easily, not to mention the hand cramp you’d develop from carrying your keys between your knuckles for the entirety of the journey back.

With Bucky, you never needed to worry about being vulnerable, being a target — you’d happily let him protect your from the terrors of the world for the rest of your life.

“Bucky, I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for walking me home every night.”

“You thank me all the time, and I always tell you it’s not a bother—”

“No, I mean really thanked you,” You cut him off, giving his hands a squeeze. “I used to dread leaving the bar every night. The thought of having to walk back to my apartment alone in the middle of the night, every night... it made me feel sick. And out of nowhere, this really gorgeous guy starts showing up at the bar every night and gets me home safely without fail. I— I don’t think you realise how safe I feel with you, Bucky. I feel so safe that I couldn’t ever be scared of you. You’ve looked out for me for this long out of the kindness of your heart — you’re a good person, you care about me. Your work might be scary to me, but you’re not, and I’m not planning on losing a good guy who happens to be caught up in a not-so-good world.”

Panic flared in your chest when you stopped speaking. You and Bucky weren’t exactly... an item, yet. Yes, he cuddled you to his side when he walked you home, he made you laugh like you never thought you could, he called you pet names that had your heart bursting with adoration. But between his hesitation about getting too close to you and your fear of asking him questions that he didn’t want to answer, an invisible boundary had set its place in the middle of you. Perhaps you’d been too forward, he only asked if you’d let him keep you safe and then you went on an unnecessary tangent—

Oh, he was kissing you. Okay, okay.

His careful hands cradling your face felt like the only thing stopping your legs from giving out; Bucky was kissing you. And fuck, it was a good kiss. One you’d been anticipating since the first time he walked you home. God, if your mother knew you were kissing a mob boss right now—

It didn’t matter — not to you. The job didn’t define him, even if everyone else around him told him that it did. You’d make sure he remembered that; you’d protect him in your own way.

Bucky pulled back first, anxious to see your reaction. It was impulsive, he knew, but he couldn’t help himself. Not when you were telling him how safe he made you feel, not when you said you didn’t want to lose him. Because he didn’t plan on losing you either.

“Listen, I’ve done things in the past that I’d rather forget...”

You shook your head at him. “Bucky, you don’t have to explain anything—”

“Please, just one thing,” He urged, watching you give him a nod before continuing. “I don’t— I don’t kill for fun, or steal from anyone out of greed, or hurt anyone just because I can. I know a lot of people who do all three without remorse; those guys are the ones I’m trying to take down. I just don’t want you thinking I’m some sort of monster—”

“I don’t think you’re a monster,” You offered him a genuine smile. “I think... you’re doing the best you can with the life you’ve been given.”

In a rare moment of demureness, a light blush coated Bucky’s cheeks; he couldn’t have put it better himself. A kiss was pressed to your forehead before he was tugging at your hands.

“C’mon, let’s get you home.”

* * *

To put it lightly, you were not happy.

It was a Sunday; the only day of the week where you were able to spend the evening binge-watching nearly half a season of a show in the comfort of your own living room. The only day that you could spend alone — no social interaction whatsoever. After a week of dealing with (usually tipsy) strangers, God knows you needed a day to wind down.

However, this Sunday night, you were right where you didn’t want to be — behind the bar, pouring out another glass of rum to a man who really should’ve just started a tab, waiting for the blessed hour of 2am to arrive because a co-worker called in sick at the last minute. To top it all off, Bucky wasn’t there to accompany you. You’d thought about calling him, but your mind told you he was probably busy with ‘mob stuff’, whatever that was. Plus, he spent almost every other night at the bar with you; you could survive one night alone.

It wasn’t such a busy night; Sundays never were at such a late hour. By the time you were closing up the place, there was only one person who’d stayed the whole night. He left without a fuss when you asked him to, which was reassuring. It was going to be your first time walking home alone in months — you didn’t need something to be paranoid about.

Still, you’d came prepared — a can of pepper spray hid in your left pocket, while your keys remained between your knuckles in your right one. Sometimes, you wondered if you were being dramatic. When you walked home with Bucky, there was barely anybody on the streets, never mind anyone that was looking to attack someone. But your paranoia won over that rationale; you could never be too sure.

You didn’t take the long way home like Bucky tended to have you do. Unlike with him, you wanted to get home as fast as possible, not waste time dawdling around the streets.

And still, within minutes of your departure from the bar, you felt someone’s eyes on you.

Surely, the odds weren’t that against you. It was your first time leaving work alone in months — it couldn’t also be the night that something... bad was going to happen because of it.

Don’t think like that, you thought to yourself, huffing quietly. A few more blocks and you’d be at your apartment building. Nobody was watching you, nobody was following you. Paranoia was unnecessarily powerful; it had to be your mind playing tricks on you.

However, after a short internal argument with yourself, you decided that it couldn’t hurt to take a glimpse behind you — just in case. And maybe sometimes trusting your paranoid thoughts was the right thing to do.

Because with one look over your shoulder, your heart rate had doubled in speed — there was someone following you.

The man from the bar, you were sure it was him. Not that you were good with remembering faces, but you’d just seen him not even ten minutes ago. Is that why he waited till the end of your shift? To follow you? You specifically?

He was around fifteen feet behind you, purposely keeping his distance. Fucking hell; what did he want? What could you give him that forced him to sit in the bar for hours waiting to get you on your own?

Bucky was going to kill you, but you’d rather that than, well, someone else having the chance to before him. Within moments, you were dialing his number, ignoring the sense of helplessness you felt in your chest.

The phone rang, and rang. Too many times for your liking.

...

...

“_____?” Thank fuck.

The sound of his voice alone was reassuring; it’d be even more so if he was there with you. He didn’t sound groggy, at least you hadn’t woken him up. “Are you okay?”

“Hey...” You let out a nervous laugh. “Where are you right now?”

“Just at home, dollface...” He answered cautiously, obviously sensing your unease. “Are you alright?”

Approaching the corner of the street you’d been speed-walking down, you took a left turn, eyes darting behind you before you disappeared down the next street. He was still there, still close behind you.

Bucky heard your breath hitch. “Babe, what’s going on? Where are you?”

Fuck. “I’m walking home from work.”

“What? You don’t work on Sundays.”

“Someone called in sick, I got called in last minute,” You gripped the pepper spray in your pocket impossibly tight, fear coursing through your veins. “Bucky, I think someone’s following me.”

There was a moment of silence; you worried he was already mad. But soon enough, you heard the fumbling of boots against a wooden floor. If you weren’t so terrified, you would’ve told him that coming to find you was unnecessary.

“Stay on the phone, okay? I’m gonna come and get you. Keep walking, don’t go down any alleyways,” He instructed, as you heard the click of a front door shutting over the speaker. “Do they know you’ve seen them?”

“I— I think so? Fuck, I don’t know...” You uttered, panic laced in your voice.

The sound of a car starting up provided you with some relief. He’d find you soon; Bucky would keep you safe. “You’re okay, I’m right here. How far away from the bar are you?”

“Uh...” You quickly took in your surroundings — hopefully you weren’t appearing as panicked as you felt. “There’s a nail salon on my right. Next to an Italian restaurant, and there’s a Starbucks on the corner.”

Luckily, Bucky knew Hell’s Kitchen inside out. His boots pressed hard on the gas instantly. “I know where you are. Just keep moving, I’ll be there soon.”

“Thank you.” You whispered, too afraid of provoking the man who was following your tracks. Was he even still there? You couldn’t bring yourself to check.

You imagined Bucky must’ve been breaking speed limits left and right on his journey to you, considering that it’d barely been five minutes since he’d got in his car before you heard a vehicle not far behind you.

Working up the courage to take a look back, you noticed that the man following you had been distracted by Bucky’s car. It was a large, sheer black SUV with blacked out windows; the perfect car for someone in his profession. Perfect enough that your stalker of sorts realised he was in for it, and immediately spun around to walk the other way.

However, he wasn’t getting off that easily.

The car door flung open, making you flinch even from where you were stood fifteen feet away. A figure dressed in a black hoodie and dark jeans jumped out, catching the man by his jacket sleeve before he could make his escape — Bucky. He mustn’t have had time to switch to his regular attire. In different circumstances, it’d be nice seeing him in such casual clothes.

Within seconds, the man was slammed against the brick wall of the bank you’d just passed, Bucky’s hand wrapped around his throat. All you could do was watch, paralysed with shock.

Coughing and spluttering, the man looked up to identify his attacker; his eyes widened. “B— Barnes?”

“You know me?” Bucky asked through gritted teeth, his grip on the man not wavering in the slightest, even when he nodded furiously. “You’re sure as hell not one of my guys — who you do work for?”

Stupidly, the man continued to squirm, desperate to get out of Bucky’s clutch. His throat was only clasped tighter. “Tell me who you fucking work for.”

“P— Pierce! I work for Pierce,” He panted.

Fucking hell. “Did he send you here?

“Yes.”

“Why?” Bucky growled, yet again tightening his grasp when there was a pause in conversation. “I swear I’ll crush your fucking windpipe—”

“The girl,” He answered breathlessly. “Someone told him you’d been seeing a girl— one that wasn’t part of your mob. He— He thought he’d be able to get to you through her, so he sent me to spy on her, work out who she was to you. I was just following her, I wasn’t gonna hurt her—!”

“But Pierce is planning to, isn’t he?” Son of a bitch. This, this was exactly what he was afraid of. Pierce has been looking for a way to take him down for as long as he could remember. But with no outside connections, no obvious weakness to him, it was impossible. You were just what he’d been waiting for — a loose screw in the framework, a crack in the pavement. Someone that would throw Bucky Barnes right off his game if you were dragged into the mess that he was trying to keep you out of.

But he’d made a promise to keep you safe; he wasn’t planning on breaking it.

Jaw clenching, eyes narrowing — Bucky rammed the winded guy into the wall for the last time. “If I see you around here again, you won’t live long enough to report back to your bastard boss.”

God, he could just do it. Squeeze this bonehead’s throat until he was unable to grant his lungs the pleasure of a singular breath of oxygen. Leave his pathetic ass unconscious on the ground for someone else to find — for Pierce to find. He’d be furious, but he’d be scared. Scared of how easy it was for his nemesis to take out one of his men. Scared of what lengths he’d go to ensure your safety.

But you were still there, watching him, unsure of his next move. If he could help it, he wasn’t going to let you be the witness to a murder, especially one on his part. The one pure thing in his life — he wasn’t going to ruin you.

With reluctance, he snatched his hand back, letting the man fall to his knees and instantly gasp for air.

“Get the fuck out of here, or I’ll change my mind on letting your sorry ass live.” He snarled, not waiting for a response before he began jogging in your direction.

Lips parted, brows furrowed, eyes glossy — you looked like you’d seen a ghost (or just heard that a mob boss was planning your murder).

Concern contorted into his features, Bucky quickly approached you, stopping himself from grabbing your face in his hands in fear that his touch wasn’t what you wanted. Had he just ruined everything? Even though you’d claimed that he could never scare you, he wasn’t sure that after that performance that your statement still stood.

Your eyes zeroed in on his chest, cogs working in your mind to try and process what the hell was going on. And Bucky worried that this was it — he’d dragged you into something you never wanted to be a part of and now, there was no getting out for you. You hated him for it, didn’t you? Fucking hell.

But after a few moments, his doubts were proven false when you crashed into his chest, enveloping his waist and shoving your face into the crook of his neck. He’d saved you, just like you knew he would.

Letting out a breath of relief, Bucky drew you closer by encircling your shoulders. Behind him, the pathetic man who he’d just about let live scurried away from the scene, allowing you to peacefully bask in the safe place that was Bucky’s arms.

Still, he feared that being out in the open wasn’t such a good idea. Pressing a lingering kiss you the crown of your head, he pulled back to meet your glazed eyes. “I’m taking you back to my place, is that okay?”

Without a word, you gave him a nod. If whoever was keeping tabs on you knew where you worked, there was a chance that they knew your home address too — the thought sent an unpleasant shiver down your spine.

The car ride back to Bucky’s was quiet. Buildings blurred together as your eyes remained glued to the window, a dismal look on your face. In the driver’s seat, Bucky stole glances at you — he’d never seen you so silent, so down. The crime world was not something he was a stranger to. Being at the top of someone’s hit list was nothing new to him. Nobody could get rid of him; that’s why he was despised by so many, and he didn’t care to mind these days. Shooting his way was a waste of bullets, men sent to find him with knives and crowbars in hand were using their time poorly.

But you weren’t him. No, you were the bubbly bartender that got whisked into his mess simply because you’d been nice enough to ask him about his sullen mood the first night you’d met. This life was never meant for you. Only a sick, emotionless person would’ve sought to harm you, even to spite their worst enemy. Even as ransom, as a way in to seek out Bucky’s weaknesses. He’d told you little about his work, and for good reason. The less you knew, the less important you were to those against him. Knowledge was power in this business.

A clanking noise emerged from in front of the car, managing to pull your eyes from the window. The car had stopped momentarily to allow a grand, silver gate to open, cushioned between the start and end of the black metal fence surrounding the land. Bucky had reached a hand out of his window to punch a code into the keypad next to the gate without you even noticing.

You knew that Bucky was well-off, but fuck.

The house was smaller than you’d imagined. Definitely still large, especially in comparison to your studio apartment. But taking into account the designer suits he styled every night, the stupid amount of money he’d tip you for a single drink, even the confidence he carried at all times — not cockiness, but self-assurance — had you thinking that when he went home at night, that it was to a multimillion dollar mansion. All glass, taking up acres upon acres, all for one man to live in.

However, it wasn’t that at all. It had a maximum of two stories, along with a garage to the left of the main building. It was modern, for sure. Monotonous with its black front door and window frames, the rest blinding white — more subtle than celebrity mansions shown off on social media. It was very Bucky; impressive and eye-catching, but not too flashy.

He opened the car door on your side, allowing you to climb out of the SUV, taking his outreached hand even though you didn’t quite need it. You would’ve uttered a joke about chivalry being dead if it weren’t for your dull mood; perhaps another time.

On a more positive note, you definitely felt safer enclosed in the towering fence surrounding Bucky’s house. At home, you’d be scared to blink in fear that it would declare you vulnerable to an attack.

It wasn’t long before he’d guided you into his home, tapping another code into another keypad as you entered the place, examining it in awe. The scruffy black boots on your feet juxtaposed the gleaming checkered flooring underneath them. A silver chandelier spread light across the foyer-like area, making you squint after the drive through the dark night.

Bucky watched as you took in your surroundings, noticing the way you crossed your arms over your chest, bowed your head — you were curling in on yourself, as if you didn’t belong there. He didn’t like that.

But after a minute or so, you diverted your gaze to him, a weak smile tugging at your lips. “This place... it’s amazing.”

You’d only seen one room, sparse of furniture and lacking personality, but you didn’t need much more convincing of its splendour.

As confident as he walked, Bucky couldn’t say he took compliments well. It was the modesty that he didn’t even realise he had. Flashy watches and perfectly tailored suits littered his closet, sure — but not to reel in ego-feeding comments. He wasn’t the one who tailored his clothes, or carefully sculpted his wristwatches; he merely had the cash to splash on them. Many could only dream to have what he did — they’d take it in a second if it was offered to them. But for what? To maintain by being on the wrong side of the law and trusting that you woudn’t mess up? To be constantly looking over your shoulder, constantly having a target on your back?

He had a good life, he wasn’t denying that. Fear wasn’t the issue; he wasn’t scared. But he wondered if this was all there was to his life. Being someone’s enemy, the object of another’s hatred. No sense of normality to cling onto when things began to get messy. Maybe that’s why he became so attached to you; his sense of peace, a normal life. Which was ironic, since there was nothing normal about you. If you were normal, you’d be forgettable. And that, you were not.

As a thank you, he shot you a grin, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Do you need a drink? Or somethin’ to eat?”

You shook your head. “I’m okay, thanks. I’m more tired than anything, honestly.”

“I’ll take you upstairs then.” Usually, he’s take hold of your hand, or wrap an arm around you to escort you somewhere — he had a feeling you needed your own space right now, so instead, he let you follow his steps up the sheeny marble staircase.

It was true, you were tired. Exhausted, even. But you didn’t want to close your eyes, or be left alone, be left vulnerable again.

Bucky led you into a darker room, one that clearly wasn’t used so often. Still, it was large for a bedroom. A queen sized bed was pushed against the far wall, draped in royal blue sheets which complemented the grey cushions sat atop of them. A closet built into the wall took up one side of the room, and a plain, white wooden desk sat under the window on the other side. The door to an en-suite bathroom just peeked out next to the closet. Minimalistic, but lovely nonetheless.

“This is the guest room, usually where my sister stays when she visits every once in a blue moon,” He commented, moving to switch on the lamp standing on top of the desk. “There’ll be some clothes you can change into in the closet.”

A sister; you were even aware he had siblings. That was something he’d never talked about — family. Neither did you, so much, but it was as if Bucky didn’t have one at all. He said that he was born into the mob, so you assumed that his parents (or at least one of them) led the same life that he did.

With a small smile, Bucky acknowledged your thankful nod before leaving you to your own devices. It was obvious he didn’t want to pry, ask you questions that he already knew the answer to.

And you weren’t exactly sure what to say to him either. The situation was completely out of your control; if someone was after you to spite Bucky, how were you supposed to protect yourself? You couldn’t just move in with Bucky to ensure your safety, and it’s not like your apartment building with its rusty locks and lack of security detail put you out of harms way.

Sighing defeatedly, you stripped out of your work attire and kicked off your boots before taking a look in the closet. There weren’t too many nightwear options anyway, but you decided on a faded vintage Metallica shirt, cracks in the logo from the amount of times it’d been washed, along with a worn pair of baggy sweatpants. Not exactly an outfit that you were eager for Bucky to see you in, but given the circumstances, that was the least of your worries as you stepped out of the bedroom. You’d been alone for barely five minutes, but an uneasy pit was still beginning to form in your stomach.

The mob boss came into sight once you’d wandered back downstairs. Freshly poured glass of whiskey in hand, lounged back on a pristine white couch through an archway to the right of the foyer. Probably a lot more expensive that what he chugged down back at your bar, shipped directly from Ireland or Scotland. He didn’t notice as you stood idly in the archway, simply taking in his appearance — comfortable clothing, still sporting an extravagant Rolex (of course), slightly disheveled hair that’s been brushed back by his fingers — before slowly approaching the couch to take a seat next to him.

“You’ve never mentioned your sister.” His eyes flit to yours upon hearing your voice, tentative in case it was a sore subject.

The corner of his lips curled, not used to seeing you in anything other than washed-out jeans and a simple black tee. Shuffling along as you seated yourself, Bucky let out a breath. “She’s lived in Syracuse with my mom since she was barely a teenager, her name’s Rebecca.”

It brought you a sense of relief that Bucky still had family; since he never spoke of them, you worried that he’d lost them because of his lifestyle. “Does she visit much?”

“Nah, only a couple of times a year,” He shook his head, swirling his drink around in his hand. “It’s safer if she keeps her distance from the this part of New York. I used to never let her visit at all, but then— then my dad died a few years back, and after that she insisted on coming down here from time to time — said she couldn’t handle losing me too.”

Surprisingly, it wasn’t the job that killed his father. Lung cancer did it before another eager opposer ever got the chance to. Bucky had never been a smoker; never saw the appeal, especially after witnessing his father go through packs upon packs of cigarettes with the purest tobacco he could find to deal with the stress of the job.

And of course once he’d passed, it was up to his son to take over an organisation he wasn’t at all prepared for. Gone too soon, his father hadn’t been able to teach him everything he needed to know. Everything he needed to survive. Luckily, the Barnes kids were smart — Becca currently working on her nursing degree and Bucky, well, learning how not to die in his occupation.

“I’m sorry, Bucky,” You sympathised, not wanting to keep pressing. There was a reason he’d been so intent on keeping you safe — his sister had already been driven away from the dangers and risks of being close to the mobs of Manhattan. He didn’t want that for you too. Not when this was your home, when he didn’t feel like he could lose you along with his sister because of the life he led. “I— I hope you know that tonight doesn’t change anything.”

His brows knitted together. “What do you mean?”

Fiddling with you fingers in your lap, you met his eyes dubiously. “I’m not scared— well — getting followed home from work by a guy sent by a mob boss to spy on me was pretty scary. But it hasn’t scared me away from you.”

Admittedly, he was happy with your words. The last thing he wanted was to see you running in the opposite direction. He wouldn’t have taken it lightly, even if he understood exactly why you wouldn’t want anything to do with him anymore.

Throwing down the rest of his drink, almost numb to the familiar burn in the back of his throat, Bucky discarded the empty glass on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Pierce has been after me for as long as I can remember; he was after my dad before that. He’s a coward, I can tell you that. Gets his men to do his dirty work. Carries a gun but never uses it. He won’t hurt you, but he doesn’t have a problem ordering every guy he knows to do it instead.”

A timid smile tipped your lips, as your clammy palms pressed against your thighs. “Is this supposed to be comforting?”

He huffed out a chuckle, but apologised upon seeing the worry behind your eyes. He’d been desensitised to violent threats and things alike; he wouldn’t let that happen to you. “I’m sorry, dollface. What I’m trying to say is... those guys are puppets on strings. They’re not smart; they don’t think for themselves. None of them have enough brain cells to get past me, which means they’d never be able to get to you.”

Your expression seemed to soften at that. Good, that meant you trusted him. Because he’d never lie to you. When he said he’d keep you safe, he meant it wholeheartedly. Now that he knew Pierce was meddling in his part of town, that made things a little easier. He’d let the rest of the guys know in the morning. Form a plan of action to force them to stay the fuck away.

In truth, Bucky wasn’t afraid. With his whole chest, he’d say that he had a higher IQ than all of Pierce’s men combined. And he’d say the same for you. Having a gun in your pocket of a knife slipped into your boot didn’t make you clever; it didn’t inherently make you a threat. Not when your target was never in your line of sight, never able to be spied on unknowingly. You’d known you were being followed within minutes, and you had Bucky in the phone not long after the realisation. You trusted your gut, always — that’s what was going to keep you safe. And him, of course.

“I believe you,” You reach a hand across the lavish couch, curling your fingers around the top of his hand. “I really do trust you, Bucky. I hope you don’t doubt that. I meant what I said the other night, about feeling safe with you.”

He tensed slightly in his seat — he really was a big sap, wasn’t he? The head of a mob who had a countless amount of blood on his hands was getting nervous at a woman’s touch. Your touch, however.

“I know,” Bucky eyed you fondly, savouring they warmth of your hand cupping his. “Just... please, next time you’re covering a shift, call me—”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you grinned. “I knew that was coming. It was one night, I didn’t think—”

“But look what happened—!”

“And what would’ve happened if you were walking me home?” You quirked a brow. “That guy still would’ve followed me from the bar, he might’ve even followed us to my apartment and— and tried something once you’d dropped me off.”

You were right. It seemed like they only knew where you worked, not where you lived. Bucky would’ve liked to think if someone was following the two of you that’d he’d notice, but he couldn’t lie — an elephant could’ve followed you down the street one night and he still wouldn’t have realised because he was so caught up in you.

A crease formed between his brows; what if they had found out your address? Without him knowing, which worried him even more—

“But I don’t wanna think about that,” You added, seeing his features falling. Feeling brazen, you shuffled closer, your thigh pressed against his. His breath hitched; you noticed. Heat pooled in your own cheeks. After all, you’d only kissed him once. Being in such close proximity to him still had your heart pounding. “What matters is that I’m here, and I’m with you, and I’m safe.”

Like music to his ears, your words put the shine right back into his eyes. And again, he couldn’t resist pulling you into him — kissing you. Tugging you by the hand still clutching his, basking in the feeling of your other hand moving to rest against his jaw, and moulding his lips with yours. A perfect fit, he thought.

The bitter tang of whiskey was prominent on his tongue; you’d never been one for spirits, but the taste on his lips was impossibly addictive. Something you could get used to. Under the soft pads of your fingers, his jaw was freshly trimmed, dark and rough. Lips honey soft in contrast.

He took you upstairs after that. After you’d both pulled away, lips swollen and eyes hazy, still holding hands like letting go was a crime — the only crime Bucky would shy away from. You were tired, he could tell. If you’d been at home, you would’ve fallen into a slumber long before now; that was if no one had been following you back. While he trusted that you felt safe in his home, it was clear you were still a little shaken. Even more so when he guided you to the guest room, closing the curtains for you as you scrubbed your teeth in the en-suite bathroom.

You felt like a child again; hurrying to spit and rinse so that you could escape the cold, tiled room and fall back into the arms of someone you felt safe with.

By the time you were done and padding back into the bedroom, Bucky had changed into yet another outfit you had yet to see. Now in a white shirt that clung to his torso and biceps, along with grey sweatpants matching yours, he looked... he looked gorgeous. Maybe you were being dramatic; the suit was certainly attractive, but seeing him in his casual wear— it was so domestic. It spread a fuzzy warmth from your fingertips to your toes.

As you pried your eyes from where he was stood in the doorway, shooting you a gentle smile, you began to curl up against the headboard of the large bed. And before a ‘goodnight’ could leave his lips, you hesitantly asked—

“Can you stay with me?”

Brows raised, Bucky swallowed nervously. Of course, he wouldn’t say no. “If you want me to, sure. I can set up on the floor—”

“You’re not sleeping on the floor, Bucky,” You grinned, knees pulled to your chest. Always a gentleman, he was. “I’d... prefer it if you were next to me.”

Sparkling with hope, your eyes pierced into his. If anything, he was sure you’d want to be alone for the night. Gather your thoughts, consider cutting him out of your life for getting you involved in something so dangerous. That was his doubt talking — he knew that you trusted him. And if sleeping next to you would put your mind at ease, he’d never let you sleep alone again until you felt you could.

Moving under the thick quilt, you observed Bucky as he tentatively made his way over to the bed, suppressing a chuckle.

“Are you sure this is okay?” He questioned, just about to pull back the quilt on his side.

A smirk played on your lips as you reached forward, pulling the sheet back for him. “We just made out on your couch; I’m okay with you lying next to me. Are you okay with this?”

He scoffed softly. In that moment, he knew that a bullet to the chest or a knife in his stomach wouldn’t be the death of him — you would.

“Just making sure.” He sighed, eventually climbing into the bed beside you, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

The pillow underneath your head felt like a cloud as you laid down on your side, Bucky mirroring your position soon after. He’d left the lamp on; the dim light casting a shadow over his features. It hit his eyes perfectly, however. Ocean blue, inviting you to drown in them — you’d do so in a heartbeat.

“Thank you.” You murmured, eyelids already heavy. If you weren’t drifting into unconsciousness, you would’ve pressed your lips to his yet again, craving the taste of that priceless whiskey. As a thank you, another one — you couldn’t thank him enough.

All those nights he could’ve spent in his million dollar home, drinking the purest of spirits on his plush couch, perhaps with company that was a little more used to his lifestyle. All those nights he could’ve spent in the safety and comfort of his own abode, he spent in a cold, austere bar drinking alcohol less expensive than his shoelaces, with you.

And he’d do it every night for the rest of time to watch over you, make you laugh, smile — ensure that such a vibrant girl was never exposed to what truly lurked in the shadows of Manhattan. He’d do it because without you, he’d be lost in those shadows. Trapped in a life of crime and violence and misery. Nowhere to turn to simply breathe.

Finding your hand under the silk sheets, Bucky pulled it close, brushing his lips against it ever so softly. And he replied with a smile. “You too, dollface.”

Watching as you fell asleep, gentle breaths hitting the pillow beneath your cheek, lips still a little swollen, hand grasping back at his ever so slightly — he sighed. One of relief, of content.

Your Bucky, always watching over you. But you — you were protecting him too. Protecting the worn-down soul of a complicated man from being truly lost in such a brutal world.

For that, he’d be more thankful than you could ever imagine.

[hopelessromanticvirgo]

Ground Control To Us

Sobbe social media au 4.10

Chapter 4.9

Robbe feels like he can't breath, like the his lunges can't hold air inside them anymore, and they are about to burst open. He desperately wants to just let it all out but no tears are coming. He needs to do something, cry, scream, trash the whole room down but he can't risk waking his mom up when she just fell asleep. They just got back from the hospital, the nurses who had been with her since they found her on the streets, told Robbe that it was okay to take her home, that she just needed some rest and they should come back tomorrow morning to check up on her. It was a long night. He didn't know what happened or how. One minute he was hanging out with Moyo and Aaron and the next minute he was running and searching for his mom. He was unsuccessful but that didn't matter anymore. It was almost two am when he got a call that told him, she was safe and sound, but still unaware of her being and whereabouts. Robbe felt so lucky and happy that he had some money in his pockets so they could come back home with a taxi. The sun would rise soon, probably in an hour, and Robbe laid wide awake, unable to even close his eyes for a few seconds, afraid something horrible would happen if he didn't pay enough attention. His head feels like a weighted stone, hard, painful sitting on him, killing him. His mind is racing, thoughts like "it was all your fault" and "you shouldn't have left her alone" and "you wanted to have some fun, didn't you? Look what happened" were destroying him from the inside, slowly and he needed to stop thinking, needed to stop doing anything, needed to just disappear, never come back. He didn't deserve it at all and he didn't know what to do to stop them. He considered calling Jens but the boy wouldn't be any help, he never was because he simply couldn't understand and by calling him this late at night, he'd only make him worry and Robbe didn't want that. Usually he'd text Sander in this kind of moments but it felt too agonizing, it'd only hurt him more when he wouldn't get a response so he closed his chat, which was open on Instagram, ready for his useless rantings. He didn't have anybody who would understand, he shut his phone down and stared at his white ceiling, head full of thoughts, horrible thoughts eating him up alive, burying him down in the ground, standing in front of him, looking down at him. He felt his eyes got wet and he almost made a sound from the excitement since crying meant getting rid of this emotions and maybe even falling asleep from the exhausting. But his joy didn't last long when again, no tears came. He cursed and rolled over, now looking out from his open window, admiring how the moonlight came in the room, on the floor, almost touching his bed but not quite there yet. If he put his hand in front of him, he was sure it would touch him, maybe even feel what he was feeling, what he was thinking. Maybe it was here to share his emotions with him, maybe it felt sorry for him, pity him. Maybe it was there to give him some love since nobody else was doing it. He almost laughed at his desperate attempts to make the light come in his room more freely in his mind, like he was ordering or challenging it to dare and touch him, dare and feel him, dare to see what he was made of, dare to take his pain away.

Of course, his request was left unanswered.

He groaned and tried to close his eyes to fall asleep again but after helplessly turning and turning around he finally gave up and got used to the fact that today he wouldn't get any drop of sleep, he only hoped that he'd get so tired later that he'd just crash down on the bed, emotionlessly. His phone lit up with the notification from his tweeter, it seemed like he wasn't the only person up at this hour of the day, this early or this late, whatever you prefer to call it, somebody liked his tweet.

All of a sudden, the realization just hit him and he took his phone in his hand and went to the app.

His friend, his crush, the person he is talking to, whatever you want to call it, can understand.

And when that thought came into his head, he has a sudden and desperate urge to talk to him, to hear his voice. He looked at the time, 04:56, he must have been asleep right now. Robbe decided that he'd just text him to check, maybe, somehow he was awake too.

Are you up?

I really need somebody to talk to right now.

He waited a few minutes, nothing.

He really shouldn't be doing this, it's too late and he will wake him up, but he desperately needed to talk to him, the urge was so strong that he dared with all the confidence he had in his body and started audio call.

It rang and rang, until the call ended.

He probably has his phone on mute, he thought.

And decided to drop it.

He stared at his chat and was still log into it, didn't want to leave for some reason.

Looked at his username, "call me whatever you want" so mysterious. He didn't even know his name and was bothering him with his problems and even dared to call him at this time. He probably doesn't even want to meet Robbe, he just doesn't care, while he on the other hand, can't wait to see what he looks like, what he's like, to touch his hand, maybe even kiss him if they decided to give their relationship a chance. But Robbe would be satisfied with being only his friend too, no matter how much he craves his presence. He has never felt this kind of connecting before, well maybe he has, with Sander but that was different, Sander wasn't on the other side of the phone, he was here but somehow very far away at the same time. He was real but also unreachable for Robbe. Just there, living, existing and that was enough for Robbe, more than enough honestly.

He couldn't ask for more from him. But this person, this mysterious person somehow started to fill the void inside him, the void that was making him believe that he would never find somebody who could understand his true self, because he was understanding Robbe and was there for him even nobody else cared.

Maybe that was the destiny, maybe it was meant to be. Didn't Robbe believe in soulmates?

Maybe it was time for him to start being happy once and for all?

Was it too selfish to ask for a little bit of happiness?

He felt amazing about him, felt like he could finally breath freely around him and blinded and filled with this thoughts, he didn't even realize what he was doing, didn't even blink when he clicked on the calling button again.

* * *

Sander felt asleep very late, and he just started drifting off. He was extremely bored at nights when he was spending his evenings at home, alone with his thoughts.

Senne is a perfect help for that but now, he wasn't there and wouldn't be for a few days. Not that Sander should complain, the boy was doing so much already for him and he deserved to rest and be without Sander for a while too. Senne wouldn't admit but he was worried and stressed about Sander all the damn time. And Sander hated making his friend feel this way, bothering him and no matter how many times Senne would say that he was more than happy to help, Sander could see how much it was tiring for the boy to be around him sometimes,and he's so happy he's resting and having a good time right now, but he can't help being upset since he's all alone. His parents told him to stay with them but he didn't want to. The whole night was spent with him thinking about the situation he got hisself into and how to make everything right, but of course he couldn't find any new solution. He was so convinced that telling Robbe wasn't even worth it anymore for more than one reason, if somehow with a helping miracle, Robbe forgave him and be with him, their relationship wouldn't last, not with Sander being toxic, not with what Sander is capable of doing, breaking and hurting him, no matter how much he'd try to not do it, he doesn't even know him and he's already bringing so much pain to him, he can't even imagine what would happen if they were together.

But fuck, Sander can't stay away, he couldn't stay away since the day one and specially can't now, some force or blind string is pulling him towards that boy, that amazing boy, too perfect and unreachable for Sander.

Too far away.

Too impossible.

What he'd give to fix all this mess without having to hurt him, but the thought alone was unbelievable.

His mind is a very dangerous place, crying for help, somebody to accept him the way he is, with all his mistakes and flaws, somebody to love him for his own self and not just because of his looks or fame.

He wants to believe so hard that he will have it someday, that he deserves it but as one part of him hopefully says all this, the other part is evilly laughing at him, pointing fingers.

He's weak, he's lost and stuck, doesn't know what to do, he often feels this way but never like this, so helpless, so sad.

He's ready to give up anything but he doesn't want to. He wants to be with Robbe and love him, take care of him, be someone he can rely on, wants to spoil him with affection and presents. He doesn't even want a lot in return, that boy to love him, would be enough, would be the dream and the heaven.

Life isn't fair since they shouldn't have been in this situation right now, instead, they should be lying together, with Sander's hands roaming all over the boy's body, softly, gently, afraid he'd disappear so he'd hold him close, never let go, maybe even take him and run away with him, Robbe said yes, didn't he? Go somewhere very far away, where Sander didn't have to fake his identity, where he didn't have thousands of people staring at him, judging him, somewhere, anywhere but here, since this place only brings him pain and he doesn't know how much more he can handle before slipping up, crashing down and maybe even doing something unforgivable.

The pain this day became so much worse, that he was ready to do anything to make it disappear.

Anything.

Before he got his self in this mess and things got unhandily, he'd always imagine video calling Robbe, (maybe this got stuck in his head because that's how the celebrities on the YouTube tell their fans it's them when they are going undercover on their video) and he could see the image so clear in his head.

Robbe would pick up and stare blankly at his screen when Sander would appear and pop up, after a while, he'd just slam his laptop down and Sander would laugh so hard, would text him to ask why he hang up.

Even that dream was so far away, he was sure it wouldn't ever happen.

He tried telling him, but somehow something was always standing in his way, which in the end made him believe that the universe wasn't making it possible for them, as Robbe'd say.

And he didn't have any power left inside him to fight and win.

Maybe it wasn't meant to be if so many things were making it harder for him.

Or maybe that's exactly why it was meant to be?

He felt the vibration next to his head, but couldn't understand what was making that noise.

He felt extremely alone, the house was quiet and cold.

And so was his heart, ready to give all his love but wasn't able to.

What he'd give to have his fingers slipped in Robbe's hair, caressing it, pulling it, admiring it.

He will take it, whatever Robbe'd decide to give him, immediately.

Whatever Robbe thought that Sander deserved, any action or word.

And to answer that, Sander is ready to give anything that he owns, his body, heart and soul.

Robbe can just take it all how he want it.

The unknown vibration started again and made Sander more awake by each passing second.

He groaned and put his hand away from his head under the pillow, and touch his nightstand. After a few unsuccessful attempts to locate his phone which was now, freely making a lot of noice and making Sander's ears hurt, he finally touched and took it.

The light coming from it, was too bright and he didn't want to open his eyes.

He was too tired and wasn't that wide awake to realize that somebody was calling him so late, and almost nobody calls that late at night if they don't have horrible news.

He opened one eye a little bit to see where the green answer button was so he could make this sound stop.

Usually, he wouldn't answer but now it felt like, his answer was needed, and still having no idea who it was because he didn't see the name, he pushed the button and took the phone to his right ear.

"Hello?"

The world stopped and the silence overpowered everything more than it was already doing.

"Hello?" He tried again and got a little worried that somebody from the other side of the line needed help but couldn't say it.

He took his phone away from his ear to see who was calling but at the same time, the phone lit up and blind him so he put it back to its previous place and closed his eyes again, slowly getting used to the fact that he has been woken up.

"I'm listening." He added and thought that it was probably a prank call coming from some kids who were having a sleepover right now and we're dialing random numbers.

Some kind of sound was heard from the phone and he listened closely but couldn't figure out what or who it was, he couldn't figure out anything.

And finally, the one who so rudely woke him up, spoke.

"S-s-sander?"

There was something about that voice, so surprised and scared, as if they couldn't believe their ears, that made Sander worried, his heart started beating fast for some reason.

"Yes?" He asked again, now trying harder to get the person to say, whatever they wanted.

Still silence.

So deadly silence.

Sander was about to ask another question when the line ended.

His eyebrows got pushed together from the confusion and finally decided to sat up, and took his phone in both of his hands.

The first thing he saw after what time was it, was a twitter notification which was a missed call, 7 minutes ago.

The realization started making his mind spin, his knees started shaking.

He didn't want to make any guesses until he was very sure, so with his heavy breathing, he opened the app and there it was.

One missed call from Robbe right under "the audio call started."

"Fuck." He whispered, and couldn't believe his eyes.

It was Robbe.

He stared at his chat so intensely as if what happened just a moment ago, would disappear and erase itself from existing if Sander tried it harder.

He pulled out his hair until his scalp started hurting and he was sure the hair would fall out if he pulled it more.

He couldn't breath anymore.

"Fuck." He yelled out and threw his phone across his room. It hit one of the poster he had on his wall and the glass shattered, after two seconds he heard his phone hit the ground. His eyesight got blurry.

Chapter 5.1

[fedoranonymous]

Okay okay okay

If we're gonna do a powerpuff girls reboot, let's do a

Powerpuff Girls Reboot!

We open with the intro text from the original cartoon. It's iconic, it's been basically unmodified since they were the Whoopass Girls, you've gotta have it. Either use the original animation or hire three cute lil things to do it, but have your new Professor read it out.

When we get to "but a secret ingredient was added to the concoction..." start pulling out to reveal that it's coming from the TV, and the Girls are reacting to the portrayal of their childhood in real time. They keep saying the girls are cute, but they have things to say about the plot. Blossom wants to know if this is a period piece or isn't it, make up your mind. Bubbles is worried about people confusing fiction for reality and blaming them for things that happen on TV. Buttercup just wants to watch a mindless action flick.

The Professor narrates again. "It's been ten years since the Girls first woke up in that Lab. Of course, they were already physically six by then. Mentally... Well, they certainly had the intelligence of adults 7 times their age. Along with the innocence of children. That was our goal -- people who could really, honestly, and without cynicism plot an attainable future for humanity. The superpowers? Well they caught everybody by surprise."

Flashback to the girls earliest moments perhaps, or just go straight to: for their safety, and to try and dissuade the onslaught of costumed villains that have come to Townsville seeking a fight with Real Superheroes, the Mayor and the Professor have decided that there will be No More Superheroing In Townsville Anymore. They get to live the next twelve years as ordinary girls, have real lives, isn't that exciting?

Well, if it's what you think is best.

In the intervening decade, the girls have grown. They're not perfect little girls anymore.

Blossom has clearly seen the Incredibles. She has a meticulous line of silver medals: science fairs, races, MMA. Straight 95% As across the board. Her golds are all in team sports, and her clear eye for tactics has garnered her the attention of the junior ROTC, who she has to dodge frequently and ever more creatively because "it just doesn't seem right to train with them like an ordinary soldier when I have heat vision and two purple hearts".

Major drama comes from her science fair partner who seems... Weirdly well researched about weapons manufacturing. And obsessed with superheroes. During the midseason finale, they get way too riled up working on their automatic water purification system and end up inventing a weather machine that goes haywire. Science fair partner is way too into "something exciting happening for once". Even though it nearly destroys the city, they get a Tidy defense contact for the technology. Blossom adds it to her secret safe absolutely bursting with various patents.

Bubbles, meanwhile, is working herself to the bone trying to do as much good as it's possible for a "normal girl" to do. She volunteers at the hospital. She gets yelled at by the Professor for giving plasma when they can't know it wouldn't hurt a normal human. She volunteers at the soup kitchen, at Big Brothers Big Sisters, at Habitat for Humanity. She's a religious follower of the "only eat what can be grown within x miles of where you live" (I think it's 100?) While being vegetarian, obviously, she can talk to animals. She had to get yelled at for volunteering at the pound for that reason, too, but the vets missed her so much, she got brought back in. She's much more vocal about shopping locally, though, and she is never not eating a handful of nuts, because this girl needs protein! She feels bad even though she knows squirrels eat a different kind of nuts.

Definitely a scene at a farm where her cow friend tells her that food is love and that she needs milk so she can have bones string enough to punch through steel, right after Bubbles had punched through some steel.

Definitely the instigator of Let's Fight Crime Again and early season drama of her learning that she needs to accept some reciprocation of all the love she puts out into the world. Like, she drops out of the sky out of exhaustion, shit like that.

And Buttercup? Buttercup is just fine. Never been better. Cruising down easy street. No complaints here. Yeah, she's been suspended for starting fights with normal kids again, and that's super dangerous, but that kid's an asshole and all they've got is a couple of bruises. Yeah, she stays out all hours of the night, trying to drink and use enough that it gets past her metabolism, but like, it hasn't yet? Honestly this is science at this point. And yeah, no one knows where she got the money for that bike (until an early season episode reveals that she's been cutting hair at a publish barbershop that is either part of or adjacent to a tattoo parlor, and that her coworkers there are the only people she feels like she can talk to. All the characters here are blatantly queer.) But the bike isn't stolen, or anything, back off.

The only thing that lets on that there might be something deeper than "takes no shit, gives a mean right hook" is the way she JUMPS at the chance to fight "for real" again.

As a Powerpuff Girl, as a kid, Buttercup always felt like all she could do was fight. Blossom was the smart one, the leader; Bubbles was the kind one, the friend to all. Yeah, they all had the same capabilities, but like most twins and triplets, they specialized. So the could hit, too, but she could hit best.

Having their hero work taken away from them hit Buttercup hardest of all. Especially because when they started trying to take up "normal" hobbies, Blossom and Bubbles had an easier time holding back their powers while she felt like she had no middle ground between laughably weak and giving her all. Basically, a feedback loop. So Buttercup has spent the last ten years walking on eggshells Constantly and is ready to go Ape Shit.

All of these skewed self esteem issues make her crazy self sacrificial and beastly to fight. She's not holding back anymore, and she never will again! This is who she is, this is all she'll ever be, and she'll die as herself rather than give anything less than 100%!

You know, terrifying.

Comes to a head when one of her sisters takes a hit meant for her and she realizes that she might be the most fucked up, but they kind of all are a little fucked up. The same, but more so.

Obviously everyone's going to want the Rowdyruff Boys to feature heavily, maybe the teaser after the midseason/season finale is them making parole or something? I've got to admit, they were never my favorite villains. If the series leans more comedy, maybe start with them coming (back?) to school and purposefully starting trouble while making direct eye contact, since they Know.

I definitely see the Gangreen Gang being involved with Buttercup's tattoo parlor place. Not even commiting crimes, just being Green and sleezy. Or, shit, that's a racial profiling allegory. Very CW, but no thanks! I have no trust in my senshi heart, you will fuck it up, forget I said anything.

That being said, if you don't get the license for ANY Gorillaz music, when Ace has canonically played for them? Fuck right off.

I really want HIM to appear in a place of prominence, like a season finale. Just rip HIM straight out of the cartoon, don't try to update HIS appearance or schtick at all. But HE is all about getting into your head and toying with your insecurities, right? I just went through all this effort to give the girls imposter syndrome and negative self worth, let HIM play.

I regret my formatting choices on that last paragraph.

Also Halloween episode where they go as their alter egos from Super Zeroes and the monster is like "Oh not this shit again" and the girls are like "hey, we can dress up AND kick ass".

[fuckingdeadbutroyal]

Jasonette July- Soulmate AU- Part 3

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Bruce would never admit it. No, of course not. Bruce was a literal father of eight, Catwomans fiance and motherfucking Batman himself. Right then, standing in the ruins of what was once “The City of Love”? He could not handle the situation. There should have been more people coming to Paris’ rescue, more heroes offering their support and overall more attention on everything that was happening, more attention on what has been going on for years. The irritation seeped into the batfamily like some kind of mist. Everyone felt it, but each person was dealing with it in their very own, individual way. 

For example there currently was a frustrated Cassandra Cain asking Tim for directions, while using a crowbar to open a door that has been sealed shut by the rubble of one of the broken buildings. She was angry, or at least that’s what she has been taught this emotion was called. The decade she has spent on the streets of Gotham have made her capable of handling all kinds of tools and left her with every necessary skill there was, if you needed to open a door or look for something any other person would not have paid any attention to. The young adult wasn’t keen on following her main mission. The villain could be caught later, but those people were dying right then and there. Tim has told them about the Miraculous Cure. Yes, all those people would come back to life if only their heroine would finally manage to catch that damn akuma. 

The memories would stay though. The city would consist of traumatised citizens and be vulnerable to further attacks or, in the worst case, further manipulation. Dick could not stop thinking about what could happen afterwards. What are they going to do once the villain has been eliminated and the miraculous cure has been cast? How would the citizens of Paris react when some sociopath would raise their voice and demand power and set up rules and just overall exploit the damaged and desperate minds of the victims? 

Would this emotional trauma lead to new extremists? 

Would they have to fight a new Hitler or have to assassinate the next Stalin? Speaking of assassination: Damian was raging. His already bad temper was a perfect starting point, which means that now that he had mixed his constant anger with the situational rage... he felt alive. 

He remembered that that was what superboy has felt like the first time he realised he could fly. Kon-Els’ emotions were always very...expressive. He loved to indulge every bit of adrenaline and excitement he could reach. Damian was glad to have him as his soulmate, though. The other boys positivity and extroverted way of acting was complementary to Damians introverted defensivness. Kon-Els’ habit of sharing his pleasent emotions and sensations through their soulmate-bond has opened the Wayne heirs eyes in several ways.

Now the youngest batfamily-members’ adrenaline and rage-filled soul was holding back from sharing that powerup with his lover, though. Instead he was focusing on Paris and subconciously hoping not to remember it in it’s current form, having planned on taking his boyfriend there for their anniversary. No, instead he was looking at those pained faces and ruins. His mind was tunneled, sure, but whatever he saw on the other end of that tube did not stand a single chance. The boy was rummaging through the streets, following each and every one of Red Robins and Batmans orders without giving it a second guess. Damian was reacting to everything colored red that came into his vision. Paired up with his oldest brother, who has taken to asking the citizens about what they have witnessed and if there was anyone who needed immediate help. Damian did not speak. He stared down anyone who didn’t answer them right away and “put on pause” whoever was causing trouble inside the shelters. He was following the “no killing policy”. (Which didn’t mean he held back.) A broken bone was a broken bone, no matter if it killed you or just immobilsed you for a few weeks. Dick did not approve of Damians actions, but the young one was careful not to leave a trace of his doings and knew for sure that there wouldn’t be anyone who would dare to tattle on him, not if they valued their oh so precious teeth.

Each and any trace that could lead them to the villains identity has been collected. Barbara paid special attention to accuracy and professionalism, no matter how difficult it was. She didn’t allow herself to loose focus, didn’t turn away from the mission. She wanted to, oh how much she wanted to just stop looking at those weird dusty footprints and butterfly themed anythings and pull the people in misery out of their ashes. Orakle couldn’t dare do it, though. Anyone else has already stopped paying attention to the mission. If she did too, there would be no one left to find the source of evil. She kept on playing the matra her father has taught her in the back of her head: “Find the criminal, save the future victims, find the criminal, save the future victims...” 

The future was uncertain, even for Duke. His photokinetic skill let him see into the near future, aswell as a bit of the past. But that didn’t help because that day he just couldn’t see anything but death and destruction in both directions. His vision was clouded with blood and dust and he quite honestly felt blind and useless. They should’ve come sooner, they didn’t have the right to leave these people to their own devices. Especialy since they knew that their devices were malfunctioning. The boys heart was full of regret. If only he could have seen this coming, if only he could have showed the akumatised victim a way out! It was his job as “The Signal” after all, he didn’t wear this annoyingly bright yellow suit for no reason!

Tim was surprisingly calm. He had his coffeemashine working, Alfred keeping him comany in the batcave and several constant sources of information keeping him entertained. He hated to admit it, but for once he felt fulfilled. His brain was working at just the right pace, he was giving out orders and information without having to secondguess himself and could allow himself to just let the mission take it’s course. He saw the dots moving around on the screen, saw the battlefield growing and changing and knew when to usher his family away from, or even towards danger. Yes, the pressure was incredibly high, but oh god was it exhilarating. 

Which didn’t mean he wasn’t annoyed when his orders were being ignored. Cass not listening to him he has already been counting on, she was saving the people and that was all he needed her to do. Stephanies string of fate, which was connected to Tims heart, was safe and sound and she kept him updated about her actions, so he was fine with keeping her out of the equation, for now. Jason though? 

“Hood! What the fuck is up with you?”, Tim signaled his older brother, who was currently walking at the pace of an elderly zombie and, for whatever reason, constantly turning in the direction of the Saine, completly disregarding the route Tim has assigned him on. “I totally get your need for caffeine now, Red.”, Jason laughed in return, “doesn’t mean I support it though.” Having said that he went back to silently brooding in the direction that was making him even more tired than he already was. 

Jason was exhausted, but he wasn’t dumb. He’d guessed that his soulmate had to be somewhere in the area and he was certain that the strenghtening bond was due to their proximity. The further he walked the more he felt them. Or in other words, felt his body succumb to their weakness. Whoever they were, Jason knew they were on the verge of dying. A soulmates bond can only do so much. Sure, if he ate and slept for two, his bonded would get their share, but it still wasn’t enough. Judging by the way he was currently about to collapse, they haven’t been taking care of themselves for a while now. Jason had to do something. He needed to find them and get them to someplace where they could recover, at least enough for Jason to be able to get back to work again. 

Blinking, Red Hood realised where he was. Where there should have been water, just a few dozen meters in front of him, were...

“Red, am I hallucinating or is that river full of giant ladybugs?”

“Those are boats. Their color indicates them to be Lucky Charms, a creation of Ladybugs superpower. Batman and the others have found several other items all over the city and collected the ones they could. Apparently Ladybug has to throw them in the air in order to cast the cure. Are you capable of investigating these ones? I think they could be shelters but my drones haven’t arrived yet so we have no heatvision to investigate from abov-”

“I’m on it.”, Jason interrupted him, having gotten a grasp of the situation and, due to his tiredness, not being capable of listening for such amounts of information without succumbing to the monotone lullaby of another human beings voice.

Tim watched in wonder, as the big, scary, red hooded man stopped midtrack, made a 90° turn and climbed into a destroyed cafe. He came out of it, several minutes later, armed with what seemed like two cups of coffee, a bag full of food held between his teeth and unconcious parisians on each one of his shoulders. Jason carefully squatted, letting them down at the door of the nearby akuma-shelter and sitting crosslegged next to them. After carefully dropping his bag of baked goods in his lap and downing the probably burning hot coffee from his left hand in one go, he finally turned his com back on and just sat there, eating. 

A few moments had passed before Tim mustered up the courage to speak to him. He’s been fighting evil in the streets of the most crime-ridden city their planet had to offer for years now, but never in his whole career has he seen something as terrifying as that man he considered a brother, who he knew had commited murder, died and come back to life, just sit and eat while everything around him consisted of ruins, death and destruction.

“Tho-those civilans. Did you-?”

“I knew you would ask that!”, a full mouth replied, “Of fucking course not. They were knocked out by their bloody ceiling collapsing onto their damn heads. They’re still breathing and I’m sure there’s like, first aid in those shelters. I just gotta-”, he took another bite, taking his time, again swallowing his second cup of coffee in one go and letting out an exhausted but slightly more energized breath, “I just gotta recharge, then I’ll be on my way.”

“Are you okay? Why so weak all of a sudden?”

“Who are ya calling weak, replacement?”

“I meant what I said, now spill.”

An uncharacteristical sigh escaped Jasons lips. He didn’t like speaking of his soulmate. It made him feel weak, especialy due to their bond consisting of literal suffering. Given the current situation, though, he decided to share.

“Did you know I have a soulmate?”

Tims surprise was evident but he did not dare speak up, in fear of disrupting his brothers confession. 

“We’re kind of a fucked up pair, to be honest. Our bond isn’t as cute as yours and Spoilers. It’s like...very physical. Whenever she gets hurt I get the same bruise.”

Jason now knew she was female. He felt her much more intensely, recognized those physical attributes he was sensing. If felt weird and he would have to get used to it. (Only if the both of them were going to survive the next few hours, of course.) 

He took another bite of the third pastry he was currently eating, before continuing: “Whenever one of us has hurt ourselves when we were little, the other did something similar in some sort of “payback”. It was dumb. Silly realy...”

Tim was only half listening. As much as he wanted to know every tiny detail of this secretive mans confessions, he still had a job to do. A shelter not far from Dukes whereabouts has been covered by more debris and was therefore in danger of collapsing on itself. He gave out orders to everyone but Jason. Red Robin had a guess considering what he was about to be told and couldn’t risk ignoring that possibly incredibly important piece of information.

Jason was finishing his seventh pastry, while explaining to Tim how he recognized Paris through his soulmate and pointed out how odd it was, that she knew what every angle looked like from above and how she has never set foot inside an akuma-shelter. 

Saying it out loud made it painfully obvious. Especially when he paired the information with the fact that his wounds seemed to heal so quickly and the exhaustion the bonded pair was feeling.

Ladybugs powers include healing.

Ladybug was fighting the most difficult battle this war has ever offered.

Ladybug was Jasons soulmate and he knew where he could find her.

------------------------

Hello!!!

I hope you are having a great day, night, morning...probably night. Nighttime is tumblrtime after all. 

Thank you SO MUCH for all your feedback, it is now my fuel, my water, my blood, I love y’all.

Also, English is my third language so please, if you find any mistakes or notice a grammatical sin: please tell me! I am still learning and would love to correct my mistakes.

Part 4 is in the making and either it will be very long or I’ll make a part 5. No promises though!

P.S.: Proper Jasonette is finally happening next chapter, I’m excited ^^

I never would have thought I’d get to say that but I now have a taglist! If you want to be added just tell me in whichever way: I will find you and I will tag you *insert evil laughter*

Tag List \o/:

@maribat-is-lifeblood @lokilex @amayakans 

Thanks for reading ^^

[sinsbymanka]

This is a submission for the @cozy-autumn-prompts​ event, brainchild of the lovely @scharoux​. Thank you for the amazing prompts! @tightassets​ and I submit the following art (belonging to her talented hands) and fic (my doing) for prompt #4: By The Fire.

Title: It’ll be a Hell of a Story Rating: M Pairing: Female Cadash/Varric Tethras, Maria Cadash/Varric Tethras Tags: Flirting, UST, Fantasizing, Pre-Relationship, Non-Inquisitor Cadash

Read on AO3

It should have been a simple problem.

Simpler than the breach swirling threateningly above them, at any rate.

They’d managed to survive the whole world going to shit, but that massive hole in the sky was still gonna be a problem they needed to solve. Sooner rather than later. And to do that, they needed people. Soldiers. Mages. Weapons.

Lyrium.

And whenever someone said ‘lyrium’, they always looked at the dwarf. Like the humans and their skirts and their wars hadn’t upset the whole damn lyrium trade. Varric debated throwing his hands up and washing them of the whole thing.

Demons. Holes in the sky. Templars. Mages. None of it was really his cup of ale.

But there had been red lyrium in the temple. And that… well, that was his problem. He’d put it out in the world. He was responsible for the spark that ignited the fire, and now he had to deal with the inferno. Besides. He could find a lyrium dealer with one hand tied behind his back, right?

He could kick himself for his optimism.

Ruffles couldn’t get the Merchant’s Guild or Orzammar to play ball, not a surprise. Too much risk to sell to this ragtag bunch on top of a mountain, not enough reward. Even Varric wouldn’t be able to pull enough strings to make it work, which meant he needed the Carta.

Of course, the one time in his life he wanted them to appear, they were nowhere to be found. Frankly, that was suspicious. There’d been Carta crawling all over Haven when he arrived, it didn’t take much to see their signs. Dwarven marks carved into cabins to mark drop points. Snow clearly brushed back to cover paths. Several short, shady dwarves in the tavern that kept to themselves while they played cards.

If he’d have known he’d need them later, he would have said hello. He’d been too worried about spinning tales to make the chantry dance to his tune and trying to ingratiate himself to both sides of this damn mess so he could get back to Kirkwall with his fine dwarven chest hair intact.

Maybe they’d all died in the aftermath of the temple exploding. He’d seen a couple Dwarven corpses, but not enough to make up a whole crew, and there’d been multiple operating in Haven. Did that mean the rest fled?

Varric scratched his stubble while he picked his way down the icy, gravel path. His eyes still roamed, trying to find any signs of seedy deals lingering in the shadows, but all he saw were scared refugees and soldiers not even old enough to grow a beard. The wind cut through them all and they scurried past without even looking down at the dwarf.

Well. Back to his fire to regroup and think of another plan before he froze into a nice chunk of rather handsome ice.

Honestly, it was hard to believe that somebody didn’t look at the chaos and see profit to be made. They didn’t make Carta as tough as they used to, apparently. Where were all the tough, savvy business people? The clever rogues able to stay one step ahead of all the competition? What about someone who could look at this mess and decide to chip in, if only because that hole in the world threatened everything?

Varric scoffed to himself and shoved his hands in his coat. Carta dwarf with a heart of gold? He’d grow a beard first.

He sighed and turned the corner, letting his eyes drift covetously to the fire not twenty paces away.

And almost stumbled to a complete stop. There was a woman sitting on his bench, next to his abandoned supplies, munching on a flaky pastry while flipping through his book.

A dwarven woman. One that looked like the right kind of shady he’d been trying to locate all damn day.

But the cunning tip of her head as she read, the blade on her thigh, the sheer audacity of her, was nothing notable. Not compared to the curves accentuated by her snug breeches and the tempting swell of her breasts tantalizingly framed by a shirt not quite as scandalous as his, but close. Her red hair was braided away from her face, but wisps of it danced in the wind, tickled her freckled nose.

She lifted her eyes from the page and locked eyes with him. Hers crackled with intelligence, energy, and absolutely wicked satisfaction.

At a glance he knew three things. First. She was Carta. Second. She’d been watching him look for her.

Lastly, and most importantly, she was the best kind of trouble. And that made her more dangerous than she even knew.

She didn’t break eye contact, didn’t even bother to drop his pilfered book. Instead, she raised her snack to her lips and took a slow bite, watching him watch her like she was a queen upon her throne and him some lowly petitioner.

And honestly, that was the right of it. Which shouldn’t make him think of getting on his knees and throwing those shapely thighs over his shoulders, but dammit he hadn’t expected to find the most gorgeous woman in the world in the middle of the Ferelden muck.

She lifted his book, tipped her head to the side, and smirked. “It’s not bad, but you’re sodding verbose, Tethras. You should probably get a better editor.”

Every thought in his mind screeched to a halt, replaced by one word.

Minx.

“Sorry my personal belongings aren’t up to snuff, Princess. I’ll leave better material out for you to peruse next time.” Thank Andraste his mouth was still working, because he’d lost control of his feet completely, dragged towards her like a victim of an unseen mage.

She snapped the book shut and tossed it easily onto the ground, ignoring his nickname to pat the bench beside her. It was a clear invitation, and he almost forgot how absurd it was to be invited to sit on his bench. Almost.

“I’ve been looking for the Carta all damn day.” He narrowed his eyes, making a show of grumbling displeasure to hide his ridiculous glee.

Her only answer was a sly smirk and to recline back on one palm. “I know. I was watching.”

“See something you like?” He gestured at himself, watching her stormy eyes drop from his face down his stocky body, lingering pointedly on his displayed chest. Then she swept a burning path back to his face.

“It’s not a terrible view.” She admitted.

He smiled at her. The most charming, brilliant smile he could summon. The same one that had many a fine dwarven barmaid tumbling over themselves to get him another glass of ale. His redheaded temptress only gave him a predatorial smirk in return.

“Should I assume you’re here for business?” He asked.

Or pleasure.

He didn’t dare say it. Not to her. There was something… something about her that made him pause, consider her carefully. Something that screamed if he gave her that power over him, he’d regret it the rest of his life.

It was the eyes. Must have been. He’d never seen a more endless set of eyes in his damn life.

“I’m curious.” She declared, tapping her free hand on the bench while she studied him. “I was on my way out, you know. Too much crazy religion for my taste.”

“The Chantry freaks you out more than the demons?”

“I can shoot the demons. It’s frowned upon to start murdering old women squawking at me, but they are annoying.”

She wrinkled her nose in evident distaste and something flipped in his stomach. The wind picked up again and took more of the hair from her braid, whipped it across her cheeks.

He had the sudden, maddening urge to trace his gloved fingers over her jaw and tuck it back behind the shell of her ear before cupping her cheek and drawing her sweetly towards him in a passionate kiss that-

She was either far too clever for her own good or used to inspiring a chaotic inferno of lust wherever she went, because she clearly saw the direction his thoughts veered off into. And all the woman did was bit her lower lip between her teeth to stifle a laugh he was sure would be throaty and sinful.

Yeah. He definitely didn’t need to sit down next to her on the bench. He needed three feet of space between her and him at all times to stop himself from doing something stupid.

His legs didn’t get the memo.

He plopped his ass right next to her, their thighs touching teasingly, but she didn’t bother moving. Instead, she simply eyed him with a distinct blend of wariness and interest. He sensed it would take more than his roguish charm to break down that caution, but he didn’t need to do all of it now.

He was used to playing the long game, after all.

“What’s your name, Princess?”

“Cadash.” Varric’s heart leapt in triumph. That was a good name for lyrium. A very good name. It was about time he had some good luck.

Then she added the kicker. “Maria Cadash.”

Oh. Oh they had hit the fucking vein with this one. They didn’t just have Cadash clan operating in Haven, they had one of the fucking heirs to the whole pot. A winning hand, if he played it right.

“Nanna sent me a letter telling me to get the hell out of dodge before the humans blew up the sky. Again.” She smirked, shaking her head. “But I’d just gotten comfortable.”

“We can keep you quite comfortable, Princess.” Varric insisted. Maker, he had hit the nail on that head with her nickname. He had bonafide Carta royalty on his hands and he’d do well not to lose her.

She leaned forward, her shirt dipping open with the motion, drawing his eyes for just a second and making him think of other things he could have in his hands. Because he was weak. A weak, weak man.

Maria held his gaze, brought the sweet back up to her mouth, and bit into the flaky dough. His eyes flew to the sugar dusting her pretty lips. He had half a mind to lean in and kiss it off.

“You know, those are bad for you. Not a single apple actually in them, Princess.” Varric rasped.

Maria slowly licked the sugar off her bottom lip. “I only like things that are bad for me, honestly.”

Varric leapt on her admission of weakness. “Well in that case, why not supply the Inquisition? You couldn’t make a more dangerous decision if your life depended on it. Think of the rush of danger. The cloak and dagger thrill. The late night missions and secret assignations…”

He sweetened his voice to the same low, cajoling tone he’d used on templar, guards, coterie, and all the worst of Kirkwall. She watched his mouth move with rapt attention, her snack forgotten.

Varric didn’t know how his arm slipped behind her back, but suddenly his palm was on the curve of her spine in a gesture that seemed carelessly intimate. Maria didn’t pull away. Their knees touched, her chin tipped up, and for a wild moment Varric waited for her to lean in and capture his mouth.

Instead, her smile curled up like the fire they sat beside. She tore her eyes from his to look at it with a shake of her head.

“It’ll cost you.” She warned. “This is risky. Risky isn’t cheap.”

Some things were worth paying any price for, weren’t they?

“We’ll find the coin.” He promised. “And you get to stay at the center of the action, just like you want.”

Her eyebrow climbed up her forehead. “You think I want to be underneath a spiraling hole in the bleedin’ world freezing my tits off?”

“Of course you do.” He stated, picking up an abandoned mug and holding it out to her in a silent toast. “It’s gonna be a hell of a story, Princess. Wouldn’t want to miss it.”

Just the slightest bit of her wariness fell away, revealing a wicked glint of humor and a spark of madness he’d seen too often in a dozen other brilliant women when they had made up their mind to have an adventure with or without him.

“No.” She declared with relish. “I suppose I wouldn’t want to miss it for the world.”

[nelllraiser]

chains and grace | adam & nell

TIMING: october 30th, the full moon, just before sunset. LOCATION: the trees near dark score lake. PARTIES: @walker-journal & @nelllraiser​ SUMMARY: adam and nell prepare themselves for their first full moon as werewolves.  CONTENTS: medical blood (sacrificial fingerstick prick)

Fallen leaves rustled under Adam’s feet, forming a carpet of brilliant oranges and yellows while subtler strings of red and browning rot. The waning afternoon sun forged the forest canopy in halcyon golds. The shadows of the sun-silhouetted branches played across Adam’s face as he affixed more chains to the trunk of the stoutest tree he could find. Adam had no idea how strong he’d be on the first transformation, but he wasn’t taking any chances. 

Kaden may’ve not wanted to kill him, but Adam had more than a few former coworkers with aim that’d put an army Ranger sniper to shame and fewer qualms about pulling the trigger. Thus a remote location and strong bonds were preferable here. 

Adam ‘I love fine ass and incendiary rounds’ Walker realized that there might just be a certain ironic justice in him worrying about trigger happy paramilitary. 

“How’s yours going,” Adam asked his dance partner for this lunar stakeout.

 If Nell hadn’t been treating this evening as a sort of funeral for life as she knew it, the autumnal palette of the trees paired with the steadily setting sun and the company of Adam would have made for a wholly enjoyable setting. As it were, the somber feelings she’d been trying to avoid ever since being bitten by the werewolf were quickly encroaching, refusing to be shoved away in these last moments, effectively ruining any hope for a happy or peaceful outing. 

“I’m going for a nice cat’s cradle look,” Nell answered, still managing to refuse the dread in her stomach access to her sense of sarcasm, even if the joke fell flatter than it normally would have. “I thought it’d be a nice last ‘screw you’ to the wolf part of the situation.” The chains alone were enough to cause her anxiety to prickle uncomfortably, not exactly a fan of imprisonment ever since she’d been trapped beneath the Ring. “What about you?” She looked to Adam as she reversed the question, posing it both as an attempt to get a read on his tree to chain ratio, as well as how he might be handling the situation as a whole.

“Kind of just going for restraint over style here,” Adam noted as he strained his way through some of the last preparations, the muscles of his neck and upper arms wiry the fallen Hunter leveraged one foot against the tree he was trying to bind chains around. “Y’know”, Adam posited, leaning back far enough to look at Nell upside-down he continued to heave at the chain into place around a huge super maple while pushing against the bark with a leg. “I’d hoped when we were going to start tying each other up it’d be…”

This particular train of thought was interrupted by a rasping click as the last chain link slid past the main knot into tautness. Adam stumbled backward, taking off guard by the unexpected success and tripping over a root. 

“Guess what I mean is,” Adam amended, changing his tone and just decided to own the mishap by sitting up with his back against the chained tree. “We still don’t have to do this together if you don't want to,” he prevaricated carefully. “When we first change we’ll have no control, and I honestly dunno if like...we might end up hurting each other with the chains? I dunno.” 

The truth of why he thought Nell might not want him here on the night she lost her magic had little to do with safety, but Adam wanted to give her an easier out here if she wanted it. 

In the end Nell would most likely be banking on the power of her magic when it came to the hardness of her chains. Physical knot tying wasn’t a practical skill she’d been taught when the same end could be achieved with a simple spell. Still- she sat back on her heels to take a look at her handiwork, head tilting to the side to gain a new perspective that didn’t actually provide any other insights. Sparing Adam a flicker of amusement both at his words and momentary fumble, she dusted her hands on the sides of her pants restless now that she didn’t have the chains to preoccupy them. “Never say never. Maybe it could be a treat for making it through the first full moon.”

Maybe Nell had misjudged where that sentiment was going, though. Was Adam having second thoughts? “Why wouldn’t I want to? Do you not want to? Do this together, I mean.” Nell generally gravitated towards having what she perceived as moments of weakness by her lonesome, preferring not to have audiences for the times she felt most vulnerable. But in a break from tradition— she’d been grateful to not have to do this alone. There was nothing more she could do for the chains, and she let her own back slide down the trunk of her tree before settling onto the ground. “I thought werewolves don’t usually go after each other.” Or was there a different reason he might want to change their plan, and go his own way.

Adam sat on leaves at the foot of his chained tree, glancing up at the boughs swaying above him in the canopy overhead before looking back to Penelope. He drew a knee up and laid an arm across it, flexing his fingers and ignoring the whisper of imagination that visualized claws tearing their way out of them. 

“I’m down to do this together,” he assured carefully, pushing images of shredding skin and distending ribs out of his brain. “I just...I dunno.” 

“Feel you are losing a lot more than me here,” the fallen Hunter pointed out softly, “thought you might want me not being here when… y���know.” 

“Oh-” was Nell’s unintentional filibuster of a reply, unsure if she wanted to open the floodgates concerning that particular can of worms. For the most part she’d been avoiding it, preoccupying herself with learning as much as she could get her hands on when it came to Bloody Mary, the mysterious sands, and Adam’s own disappearing abilities. The looming loss of her powers left her feeling as if there were a black hole deep within her stomach, and if the witch so much as stood still for a single moment to spare it a thought— it would pull her in, dragging her under like a similar hole had threatened to do when Bea had been killed. “I just...you know when Bea died?” she began, not entirely certain how to express herself. “And sometime afterwards you let me come over- and it was nice. I don’t know-” she backtracked self-consciously. After all, sharing emotions in person was not one of her stronger suits. “I guess maybe I thought it’d be nice again or something- if you were here.” As for what there was to lose... “Do I? I mean I know your abilities are gone right now, but I’m sure whatever strength and senses that come from being a werewolf won’t be the same as what you had, right? And- well- I can’t imagine it’s all that comforting to become something you were trained to kill.” Dark brown eyes that appeared nearly black in the fading light of the setting sun rose to find Adam’s while she finished.

Adam nodded as Nell alluded to when he’d broke down and they were together. While some fraternity mates had given him knowing nod the morning after the truth was….more vulnerable than that. Adam’d played along with lascivious implication because it was easier to let play it off as just another fuck-romp then admit he’d been falling to pieces. “I’m glad you’re here Nell,” he said with steady directness. “No matter what happens.” 

“I’m more ...worried that I am trained to kill and I kinna get lost in it,” Adam admitted. He was past the point of pretending that he wasn’t an adrenaline junkie who got a rush when his family had warned he should only feel dutiful dispassion when dispatching the enemies of mankind. “Part of me can’t get enough and it made me good at what I do for all the wrong reasons,” confessed one who might’ve become a very different man if he hadn’t been born into a Hunter family that stressed moral utilitarianism and military discipline rather than bloodsport. “I tried not to let that control me but uh…”

“Guess what I’m trying to say is that if I’m this fucked up as a human,” Adam tried again, “what is wolf-me going to be like?”

“I’m glad you’re here, too,” Nell answered with her own unwavering certainty, a gentler smile granting itself to Adam. It was softer- calmer than her usual confident grins and smirks, though just as sincere. “Whatever happens I’m glad we can do it together.”

The mention of her magic had reminded Nell of the flower seeds she’d brought along with her, hoping to create one last thing with her gifts before she had to say goodbye to them. Not yet retrieving them from her pocket, she began to draw a circle in the dirt between their two trees, a single finger paving the way of runes and sigils as it trailed along the forest floor. 

Her spellwork paused as she listened, looking up with a slight frown as he shared. “I don’t think you’re fucked up,” she said reflexively, never enjoying those she cared about speaking of themselves in such a way. “I think we’re just...doing the best with what we’ve got, you know?” But she knew it went beyond that. There was no denying that werewolves had a natural bloodthirst about them the closer it was to the full moon, and it made sense that Adam might dread what result that would garner when paired with a desire that was already present. “Well that’s why we’ve got each other, right?” she asked, referring to the unofficial pact they’d made to check on one another when it came to questionable deeds. “To make sure...we’re still the people we want to be. I won’t let it happen-” Her voice was strong, Nell’s sheer determination peeking through. “If getting lost to that isn’t what you want- if it seems like you’re getting close...we can figure out how to pull you back. And I think at the end of the day the fact that you don’t want to become that says more about you than liking the rush of a kill says. Intentions are more powerful than people give them credit for,” she ended, somewhat aware that her words bordered on lines of witch-hippy speak, but also knowing it to be true after a lifetime of powering her magic with just that.

“Thanks Nell,” Adam managed with a thick swallow, wanting to echo her sentiment but feeling guilt for being the impetitus of this whole situation. Seeing Penelope perform this last swan song of a spell just hit it home that he’d fucked up the life of yet another of his friends. 

Ma’al had suggested another way right? Service to Hell for being a Hunter again? 

But ..Nell was losing her powers for the sake of saving his life. If Adam was really considering taking on the mark and swearing himself to the Hells, shouldn’t it be to restore her powers, not his?

“Nell uh.” Adam swallowed, feeling the horrible tension of this last option in his chest as the sky gained streaks of livid violents and yellows in the countdown till sundown. 

“If I could make a deal to save your powers...even if it might mean doing something morally uh, not so great.” That admittedly was probably an understatement given what Ma’al true form actually was, but Adam didn’t want to foist that on Nell’s conscience. “Would you take it?”

He felt real shitty dropping this on Penelope as they were trying to resign themselves to their fate. But if he could offer her a chance to keep this part of herself...wasn’t even becoming Ma’al’s new pet wolf worth it? 

“I’ll do it if you need me too,” Adam assured, suddenly thankful for the tree’s unyielding support against his back. 

Nell’s face had been turned towards the sun as it continued to sink lower, half-convinced she could see every single millimeter disappear behind the horizon as it went. It felt as if it were some great celestial clock counting down the minutes she had left with her magic, and the moments left until she’d lose a piece of herself that was as much as part of her as an arm or leg. Then as Adam called her attention back, she sat back on her heels next to her tiny circle, satisfied with the work she’d done. “A deal?” she echoed first, not entirely certain what he’d meant by it. Her reflexive gut reaction was a quick reply of “Don’t do that.”

The little indent between her eyes furrowed as Nell tried to truly process what it was Adam was offering, and potentially at the expense of himself. “Listen-” she began carefully, hoping she’d somehow manage to find the right words. “When I came to help you- Sure- I didn’t know that it’d result in losing my magic. But well- the thing is-” She paused on the precipice of her words, still not quite used to bearing herself openly though she was getting used to it with Adam. “I’d still do it knowing what I know now.” Though her magic was the biggest price she could think to pay, there was one thing that she knew would demand an even larger toll, and it was losing someone she cared for as much as she did for the hunter before her. “And if it’s morally questionable- and I just got done telling you I’d help keep you from that…I wanna keep that promise to you.” There was a pause before she continued on. “I don’t know what I am without my magic,” she admitted with a hitch in her voice, “but I know it’s not a person that wants to have a hand in something that might hurt you.” This time she leaned forward to place a tentative hand on top of Adam’s. “But thank you.” She wasn’t sure how else to show that the gravity of his offer hadn’t been lost on her.

She glanced back at her circle, finally taking the daffodil seeds from her pocket. “Do you wanna help me?” she asked with a nod towards the magic runes, deciding that if they were going to have this transformation together- why shouldn’t they do this together as well? 

Adam wasn’t going to force anything on another person, but Nell’s decision still made his teeth grit down. Guilt and the trainwreck he’d brought his friends’ lives seemed to line his gut with lead. 

Morgan had told Adam something about what it was like to wield magic and lose it. Adam couldn’t really relate to be able to feel the universe coursing through him, that meld his pure intent with quantum fields, or beckon beings across universes through sheer desire. In truth, Adam was a pretty physical guy who was content with the simpler animal pleasures of life. 

Sure, he knew a lot more about other dimensions and otherworldly beings than people might expect from his test scores, but Adam's soldiering upbringing had viewed the multiverse as a dark and pitiless infinity full of eldritch predators and malevolent alien gods. 

Not exactly something you want to “embrace.” 

He wanted to be there for Nell, to be a pillar for her while she went through this loss like Morgan's girlfriend had been. But Adam worried that he couldn’t relate enough to how Penelope experienced the world to be who she needed him to be. When Nell had said earlier that intentions were powerful, the cold utilitarianism of ‘threats’, ‘tactical priorities’, and ‘strategic objectives’ that Adam was brought up in almost led him to say something dismissive before he stopped himself. 

It was that impulse Adam feared. Ideological baggage doesn’t just disappear. That bullshit stays with you, lodged deep in your brain stem somewhere, jumping out whenever you were scared or uncomfortable. Like when you were about to literally split out of your own skin and become something hunted by your own people. 

As just a random example. 

Adam got up and dusted off the leaves from his jeans and walked over to Nell. He took a knee by the arcane diagram. “So uh...we need to chant ominously in Latin or…?” 

Despite the heaviness of the air surrounding them, Nell cracked the beginnings of a smile while Adam posed his question, reminded of the time they’d worked on the demon amulet in her greenhouse. “I think I can carry the chanting part and make it just ominous enough.” Tearing open the seed packet with her teeth to sprinkle them over the center of the circle, she felt her the ache of her loss rise to meet her as she reached for her magic for the last time that mattered. “Remember when I said emotions can make magic stronger? Like the wolpertingers at my birthday party?” she asked. “They help fuel it and make it more powerful if you focus on them. And then it’s almost like you can just pour them into the spell. Just letting them leave you to create something new that isn’t exactly them.” Nell couldn’t help but feel that no amount of the dread and premature mourning for her abilities she put into the spell would be enough to chip away at them, but at least she could use them to form something that would live past that loss. “It’s like free magical therapy,” she tried to joke, though her hands wavered as she passed them over the seeds. “So if you just focus on what you’re feeling, and let them go into the spell- you’ll be helping too.” 

Nell reached forwards to lightly clasp Adam’s wrists in her hands, trying to guide his palms to the center of the circle where the seeds lay before resting them atop the soil. Pulling a hidden fingerstick out of a bobby pin from her hair that was kept for situations such as these, she looked at it for a moment too long— realizing there’d be no need for it after tonight. How many more things like this would she find after her magic was gone? Like little knives hiding around her life to slip between her ribs when she least expected it. Shaking the thought away she pricked the tip of Adam’s finger, letting the droplets of blood wet the dirt. Then she did the same to herself before covering the hunter’s hands with her own, the Latin falling from her as the blood mixed. She let every emotion she’d been forcing down for the past month painfully bubble up inside her until it felt like she might burst before letting it spill over into the magic. Slowly but surely, green shoots began to sprout through the cracks of their fingers, the stalks reaching towards the setting sun as new life was born, already desperate to survive. Nell could have gone further- taken the plants to completion and let them bloom. Instead she let the magic end after the daffodils had grown a few inches above the ground, wanting them to find their own way in a new world just as Nell and Adam would have to do in the coming days. 

“Well- that’s it, I guess,” Nell said shakily. It was over. “Chain time now?” she asked as casually as she could, tilting her head back towards their respective trees.

Adam looked up at a sky the color of blue slate, crisscrossed by the lines of cirrus clouds that’d had been lit up in a conflagration of deep carmine by the setting sun. The branches of the forest’s canopy stretched across the sky panoramy like arms through up against the crepular glare, the autumnal reds and oranges of their leaves transmuted into titian gold by the last sunlight passing through them. 

But shadows deepened in this last fading flare, lengthening from the trunks of trees, gnarled masses of roots, and undersides of the softly swaying branches. The leafy carpet of the forest floor darkened until the conjured daffodils seemed defiant against the gloom in their lush newborn yellow, basking in the last dappled rays. 

Adam glanced from the blood lingering on his finger to the daffodils that’d blossomed in the span of seconds. It occurred to him that...in a way...these flowers had come from him and Nell, there was a tiny part of him in those stems and blooms. “Woah Nell, like...that's amazing,” he breathed, not sure why this small last act of fertility should get so much more of a reaction then the crazier stuff he’d seen Nell do on the battlefield. 

Maybe this was part of what Morgan had meant about the universe becoming a part of you?

A cold dismissive part of Adam reminded himself that he wasn’t thoughtful or smart and he shouldn’t be doing galaxy-brain bullshit about some fucking flowers. It was the same remorseless inner voice that’d always reminded Adam that orders were orders, he needed to focus on the mission not the distractions. 

The boyish sense of wonder snapped off like a light switch. Even in his last minutes of humanity, the bone-deep conditioning still put blinders on Adam’s selfhood. 

“Yeah we need to get ready,” Adam rose to his feet again. He hesitated a moment, wondering if he should hug Nell, say something that he more felt for her then knew. 

Adam’s lips parted as he searched for words for a moment, but they closed as he swallowed down his own sense of guilt and failures as a man. He’d tried to meet Nell’s eyes, but quickly averted his own gaze and started busying himself with the chains, affixing heavy iron locks to his wrists. 

Nell mirrored his hesitation after they’d stood, knowing she wanted something in that moment— but uncertain how to act on it. But tonight they didn’t have time to find the words or motions, seemingly already a prisoner to the rising moon and setting sun despite the shift having not yet happened. The last grain of sand had fallen through their hourglass, and now they had to face the inevitable. This wasn’t the end— not really. But no matter how many times Nell tried to tell herself such, she couldn’t get the words to stick. Things were changing after tonight whether she liked it or not, doors closing and opening. Some were clear cut and well-defined like the loss of her magic, others were shrouded in darkness, unable to be found in the gloom of uncertainty that was where they went from here. The rooms the doors were closing on were the ends of many a thing she wasn’t wanting to relinquish, and even if she lived to see the sunrise it wouldn’t be what it was before.

At least Nell wouldn’t have to do it alone. This was the only good she could think of that was coming of tonight as she glanced over to Adam once more, still trying to find what it was she wanted to say. Instead she focused on shackling herself, locking the cold metal around her wrists in a way that was little too reminiscent of her prisoner days in the Ring. Ignoring the shiver that went down her spine, she decided this was her last chance to say something and did her best. “This is gonna sound shitty- and I don’t mean it like that but...if I was gonna get bit I’m glad it’s with you.” It wasn’t perfect, but it’d have to do. 

The last ray of light blinked out of existence in those last moments, and Nell waited- not knowing in the least how to prepare for what was coming, going forth into the darkness with the realization that at least she had one, tiny lantern in the form of the guy who’d stumbled into the Ring looking for a demon amulet all those months ago. She didn’t know how they’d gotten here, but even now she wouldn’t change it, somehow grateful in these last moments for it. Nell waited until the pinks and purples of the sky stopped reflecting against the new glass of the lake, waited for what felt like hours but couldn’t have been more than mere seconds. Waited until she heard the first cricket begin its song, and there wasn’t a scrap of light left in the sky. But there was nothing. Her hands were still her hands, her feet still encased in the sneakers she’d worn, and her magic…

Nell reached for it once again, a half-laugh, half-cry of relief breaking from her lips as she realized that one in a million had come to fruition. The full moon had come, and she was still here, human and magic and everything she’d been before. Instantly she tried to crane her head towards Adam’s direction, struggling to get far enough away from the tree to see him clearly in the new darkness. “Adam?” she asked carefully, unsure whether she’d get words or a wolfish snarl in response. She repeated his name more insistently. “Adam? Are you there?”

Adam felt the moon in his blood. The air felt heavy around him, as the tidal pull of the moon was ripping at his body. Energic pressure seemed to press down on Adam. His heartbeat hammered in his temples. 

Nell said something to him. Where was he?

Red tinged thoughts flooded into Adam’s head, a visceral longing that quickened his breath and brought up goosebumps of frisson along his skin. 

He needed to snap Nell’s neck, to hold her close as she went still and cold. 

It’d make him strong again. Whole again. 

The Hunter’s Moon whispered in Adam’s veins like wine seeping deep into his bloodstream. 

But Adam looked down at his hands and saw only human fingers. 

The fuck? Why’d he feel this way...the moon...what was going on?

“Yeah I’m here.”

Nell muttered a spell to unlock the metal around her wrists, a wave of relief once tumbling through her as Adam voiced his confirmation. “You’re okay? You’re human?” she asked again, as if she could hardly believe it. And why should she? Kaden had said their odds were one in a million and here they were— apparently two in one million. “You’re sure?” Another breathless laugh found her as she marveled at their luck. “We fucking did it,” she said before stepping forwards to unlock Adam’s own shackles, even though they’d had no hand in deciding their fates when it came to turning into werewovles or not. Gone was the hesitation she’d felt before they’d locked themselves to the tree, rushing forwards to throw herself into Adam for a hug as elation made quick work of any previous uncertainties.

Adam looked at the places on his wrist that Nell had unlocked the shackles from. There were no signs of struggle. He hadn’t just wolfed and out blacked out. His clothes weren’t shredded and Nell was elated. 

What happened? Had his mutation differentiated into those of a Beast Hunter after that encounter with the wolves, granting him immunity? But if that was the case how had Nell not contracted it? 

Adam took Nell into his arms, just content with the reassuring presence of it as his brain still tried to go through the stages of shock, acceptance, and relief. He tried to banish that ingrained Hunter paranoia and just enjoy being alive and human with Nell. “Yeah, we made it,” Adam affirmed back to her in a murmur as he held Penelope close. 

The moon burned like molten silver in the sky, seeming to briefly ripple into deep crimson in Adam’s vision like a heat mirage. He could feel Nell’s heartbeat against his chest. Even as he craved Nell’s touch to reassure him that this was real, that they were really going to make it, a small savage thought slithered into Adam’s mind. 

What would it be like to feel that heartbeat stop?

Somehow Adam knew...without knowing how...that it’d make him strong, vital, ecstatically alive.

He pushed the thought away, hoping it was just some lingering trace of lycanthropy in his bloodstream reacting to the full moon.

Yeah, must be. 

His embrace tightened around Penelope, content to just hold her close and just ...be..for a little while, enjoying this unexpected act of mercy from the universe.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #436

from a couple days ago again; still don’t feel like rewriting any answers.

Do you own many pairs of shorts? I don't own any. Have you ever taken a close up shot of a flower? A hell of a lot; I love doing that. Have you ever wanted to get drunk and get your mind off everything? Yup. But I don't like hard alcohol and only really drink light fruity stuff, and I'm apparently no lightweight, so I got to the point I just really didn't want to drink anymore. Anything you might be giving up on soon? I have felt very, very hopeless with photography lately that sometimes I'm tempted. I don't think I will, but... it's hard. When was the last time you changed your picture on Facebook? It's been months. Have you ever painted a piece of furniture? Yes, actually. I helped Jason paint his shelf black. Do you have a favorite quote? No. Have you ever made a business card for yourself? No, but I have thought about it. I just really don't have nearly enough popularity among the local photographers to feel like I really need to design one. Did you love playing hide and seek as a kid? YES. I loved it. Are there any recipes you have memorized? No. Do you know your multiplication times tables? ... no lmao Have you ever been severely burned? Not severely, no. Did you ever dream that you had a baby? I actually have more than once. What was the weirdest thing you ever saw cross the road? I think a turkey? Are you good at coming up with jokes? God no. Where do you prefer to sit when you catch the bus? When I used to ride home with Jason from school, we always sat way in the back. Do you ever listen to music to fall asleep to? No. I did when I was younger, though. I went through a loooong phase of sleeping with my iPod. If your parents... or anybody else... found your cell phone, would they be horrified at any of the messages in your inbox/outbox? No. Do you get offended if someone repeatedly checks their mobile phone when you’re out for lunch or dinner? That's very rude. What is the stupidest thing you’ve heard somebody say recently? Anti-vaccination bullshit from my stepmother. :^) Think about the last person you kissed - was it the very first time that you kissed them? No. When you drink alcohol with friends, do you play drinking games? We never did. Do you believe that there are certain circumstances where cheating is okay? Nope. Who was the last person to call you? My psychiatrist. What food disgusts you the most? Things like sashimi and caviar. I also think rare meat like steak, especially when it's still bloody, is absolutely disgusting. I could go on and on about this, 'cuz I think a lot of food is really gross. One place you would never want to get lost in in the dark? The jungle. Yikes. So many dangerous creatures, so claustrophobic, and with the canopy, I'd assume it'd be EXTREMELY dark. And it rains so much in the jungle, so it'd be hard to hear danger approaching. One thing that always creeps you out? Perhaps #1 is seeing an unborn baby move from outside their mother's stomach. I will fucking scream and want to puke. If you could be roommates with anyone of your choice, who would you pick? SARA!!!!!!!!! Omfg I'd LOVE to have her as my roommate. We've actually talked about the possibility, but that's nowhere near set in stone. What is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard? In light of recent events, a high contender is shit like "vaccines cause autism." Would you rather be buried or cremated when you die? I'd strongly prefer to be cremated. What is your favorite food around the holidays? Spiral honey ham, for one. I love Christmas treats like chocolate-covered peanuts, fudge, cookies, etc. etc... Tell me about the greatest prank you’ve ever pulled? I don't pull pranks. If you could have the power to cast any kind of spell, what kind of spell would you cast? Maybe enchanting the human population to not be such violent and hateful fucks??? Have you ever gotten a flu vaccination? Only for Covid. Double dates: a do or don’t? They are SO fun, but I do feel like it's good to have individual ones, too. Do you know any guitarists? Yes. My old friend Tommy actually plays the electric guitar in a band, and Juan was really good at it, too. How do you feel about full-length beards? They look good on some people. It varies with everyone. Do you have any relatives that have shunned you, or vice versa? Not currently. My half-sister stopped talking to me many years ago when I was a homophobic fuck, and I don't blame her. We're perfectly cool now! Has anyone ever posted a HORRIBLE picture of you for everyone to see? omg no Does/did your high school have pop machines? Yes. Have you ever gambled? Nah. If you could work at any retail store, which one would it be? I am NEVER working retail again. I can't handle it. What’s the name of the last cat you pet? Roman. :') Have you ever stringed green beans before? Yes, actually, with Colleen's in-laws. They had a big garden that I helped tend to sometimes. I absolutely hated it with how sweaty I got even then, it was WAY too hot, and my body was also weak back then to where bending down was extremely painful. I just never wanted to say no. Have you ever had any painful dental work done? If so, what? No. What’s your favorite thing to do when you’re bored? It really depends on what I feel like doing, but I think playing World of Warcraft tempts me most often when I'm unbearably bored. What did you watch today? I've just been rewatching Mortem3r play Monster Hunter World. That game looks soooo fun, I wanna try it. ;-; True or False: Yoshi is the cutest dinosaur ever? No. I adore dinosaurs and dinosaur media, so I could name a lot if I thought long enough. Who is the last person you spent money on? My niece. I still feel awful I didn't buy Ryder a gift by myself; I just could NOT decide what to get him. I'm very thankful that Mom let me use one she got him as "mine." They were bright, light-up golf balls, and he loooooved them. What is your relationship like with various members of your family? I have a biiig extended family, man, so I'll try to keep this as brief as possible. I am EXTREMELY close to my mom, like there is no way I'd be alive without her, and her support for me seems endless somehow. I love my dad very much too, but I don't see him nearly as much as I wish I did. He tries to support me however he's capable, and he always lets me know that he's there if I need him for anything. I love, am very proud of, and look up to my two sisters, but I'm also very envious of them and how they are successful adults with direction and big accomplishments. We are very different, so we have difficulty with really bonding and talking about things regularly, and it really makes me feel like a terrible sister. My nieces and nephew are absolute diamonds to me, and I'm especially close to Ash's oldest daughter Aubree. She and I are very similar in a lot of areas, so I really relate to her, even in her young age. Ryder really seems to like me, and I love that little rascal, too. :') My youngest niece Emerson is still only a baby, so she can't really communicate in words yet, but she is still a beautiful darling that I'd protect with my life in not even a blink. That covers who I consider my "immediate" family, really, at least that I see regularly. What’s something you disagree with about the way you were raised? I am very firmly against spanking, but my parents did it. I think since Ash's kids were born though, Mom's opinion changed on it. It was around that time, I know. She won't lay a hand on them. Who was the last person to add you as a friend on Facebook? I have no clue, actually. Who was the last person that asked if you were okay? *shrug* The last time you were in a car, who was driving? My mom. Did you ever get into a bar and drink before you were 21? Never tried. What countries have you been to? I've never left the U.S. Honestly, is that car insured? I don't have my own car. What do you think about gay marriage? I vigorously support it. Do you like Carrie Underwood? I actually do. She has a beautiful voice. How far away do you live from your parents? I live with my mom. Idk how far I am from Dad, really... but not THAT far. How do you like your steak cooked? Medium well. Have you ever been to Mount Rushmore? No, and I don't want to. It is absolute vandalism. Where is your favorite place (that you have actually been to)? Chicago blew me away, but I think it's just because it was SO foreign to me. I actually don't like cities very much, but for a brief visit, I thought it was very cool. Do you believe places can really be haunted? Yes. Do you take anti-depressants? Sleeping pills? No. I took anti-depressants for I think most of my life, and they did nothing for me. Come to learn from the doctor who actually set my meds straight that anti-depressants for people with bipolarity do nothing but aggravate the symptoms of bipolarity, and I was living evidence. I take mood stabilizers for said disorder instead. I don't take sleeping pills; none seem to work for me. What’s your favourite brand of peanut butter? Maybe Skippy? Idk, I'm not very picky with pb. What’s your favourite Lunchables meal? The nachos one. How many languages can you recite the alphabet in? Two. Do you like Bob Marley? NOOOOOOOOOOOOO. I can't stand his voice. Have you ever eaten at Golden Corral? Yeah, but I'm not a fan. Buffets gross me out. Do you sit and eat dinner at the same table with your family? We very rarely sit at the table. Have you been working hard to achieve something lately? If not, what was the last thing you worked hard to achieve? Losing weight, yes. I am honestly trying so hard at the gym, like to the point I've almost fallen many times as well as been overtaken by incredible nausea a lot. I don't feel like I'm over-working, necessarily, just working my ass off. Do you use ice cubes in your fountain drinks? No, because it waters the drink down and I hate it. Would you ever want your very own library, or do you not read enough for it to be worth it? No. I don't read nearly enough, and besides, can you imagine all the dust? What site did you originally start doing surveys on? I actually don't know... Have you ever used something other than water to make ice cubes? What did you do with them? I've actually never thought to do that. Would you ever willingly experience life temporarily without sight, hearing, or any of your other senses, simply to know what it is like? Fuck no. I would go insane. In what ways are you very judgmental? I'll judge the fuck out of rapists, child molesters, pedophiles, people like that with no goddamn shame. But your average person, I try not to judge very much. What is your main problem in life right now? It's hard to determine my main problem, honestly. There are a lot of issues going on in my life that've just piled up into one big tangled mess. Do your “favourites” change often? Definitely not. I've had the same favorites in so many topics for forever. Have you ever read a biography on someone? I've read Ozzy's autobiography, and I also read the Some Kind of Monster Metallica book, which was written by I want to say St. Anger's musical director? This was a very long time ago, and honestly, I thought it was pretty boring, so my memory is faint. You learned quite a bit about the band in his time with them, but damn, I don't care about the musical director al;skdfal;we. Do you know anyone who has ever been in a movie? Who and what movie were they in? What was their part? Not to my knowledge. I have an acquaintance who's had minor acting roles, but I don't believe she's ever been in a film. When was the last time you brought a pet to the vet? What was wrong with it? I want to say around two years ago (probably less) when we got my cat neutered. Have you ever made your way through a corn maze? No.

[keeponshouting]

After Infection

This is a rewrite and hopefully eventual completion of a massive multiverse mash-up of my OCs with a couple belonging to @whenromancesmoked and a few others from back in the day. I have absolutely no idea if anyone else is going to be interested in reading this (ok, I know a few people who will probably read it) but psh. I’m having fun and want to share.

Note: This is also a George Romero tribute of sorts. Like I started it for giggles because my PB for one of the characters was in the Dawn of the Dead remake and it just snowballed, which I guess means I should throw a WARNING: ZOMBIES sign up here or something. Anyway!

After Infection: Dawn of the Dead

It had seemed like a good idea at the time – or, well, more accurately, it had seemed like the right thing to do. There was a request from fellow hunters in a small town a few hours’ drive south and things had been quiet lately back home so Nate had figured that they could spare the time and energy. Besides, Dennis had been going pretty stir crazy for a while. Even if it was a hunt, it would be a good excuse to get out on the road for a while, a sort of vacation.

It had not turned out even remotely like a vacation.

They had been a little too late to the original party but apparently just in time for things to get much, much worse. Nate had brought a variety of tools just in case but he had primarily been prepared for an infestation of what locals called “hell rats,” a creature that was pretty common in the south and usually pretty easy to handle if you found their nests quickly enough. Sure they were venomous but as long as you were careful… He had not been expecting an infestation of zombies.

“The lot looks pretty clear right now.” Dennis is hunched over at the door, using the peephole to take a quick survey of the goings on outside their hotel room while Nate brews a second pot of coffee to get him through whatever the morning brings. After all, as long as decent coffee is available, he might as well take advantage of it. Lord knows he might have to go without for a while and God help his poor boyfriend’s patience if that happens.

When Dennis stands up straight again, his head is just about even with the top of the doorframe and he yawns as he leans back against the door, arms crossed over his chest. “So, come up with any plans yet or are we still waiting for the caffeine to kick in?”

Nate snorts into his cup and foregoes actually taking a drink for the moment in order to respond. “You ask that like I have any idea what sort of plan to use here. I’ve met exactly zero hunters who’ve actually had to handle zombies in the past decade at least. I honestly don’t think they’ve ever been a problem this far north before.”

“Well, there sure are a lot around here for something that’s never been a problem.”

“Some forms of infection can spread at an exponential rate in populated areas.” He drains a good half of the coffee in hand. “Our best bet is probably just to find out if there are any other non-infected people anywhere around here.”

Dennis flops across the bed, face down, with a muffled grunt.

Nate just silently continues drinking as the percolator finally finishes beside him and he very seriously considers making a third pot, just in case.

---

Zombies – shambling, groaning, flesh-eating, nearly Hollywood perfect zombies. For fuck’s sake. This should have been such an easy fucking job and now there are zombies.

Viktor strings together another line of curses, voice little more than a low growl, as he chambers another cartridge. Beside him, a terrified little girl whimpers. He simply scowls, sets Glock number one aside, lights a cigarette, and pulls out number two. “Zatraceně zasraný vědci.” Leaning over toward the window, he catches sight of a proper target and empties the last bullet into the back of its skull. What a fucking cliché.

This was supposed to be simple. They had agreed on that fact the moment that the specifications of the job had crossed the table. It should have been routine, easy money. Three towns, three targets, each plan the same; get rid of the scientist, call their employer, and let the clean-up crew come in and deal with the rest. The first two hits had gone off without a hitch. So, of course, it just figures that last one would have to be so much more complicated than it should have been.

“I—I—I w-want m-m-my d-da—daddy.”

Viktor’s jaw clenches as he exhales – slow and even, two thin streams of smoke – as he reloads the gun in hand and wills himself to remain calm. His patience is wearing thin at this point, though. He had not planned for going into this as usual and coming out as a babysitter. The target’s five-year-old daughter was not supposed to be in the house at the time of the hit. She only stayed with him on the weekends. What an absolutely brilliant turn of events that this was apparently the first Monday that she had ever spent with her father.

Dropping his half-smoked cigarette on the floor, he shoves himself up to his feet. He had lost contact with Miguel some time earlier, likely as a result of the scientist’s neighbor backing into an electric pole at full speed after one of the zombies had rushed her car. The impact had cut power to the entire neighborhood and he can only assume that it must be the cause of the interference. With long-range communication down, that leaves only one alternative: he needs to get within the functional range of their radios. Unfortunately, the hit had been planned for the late evening and he had only been able to make it as far as a vacant apartment building a couple blocks away before night had started to set. From here, short-wave does him about as much good as a water pistol.

“Come on.” Viktor has already reached the door and taken quick stock of the corridor beyond by the time he bothers to look back. Unsurprisingly, his unwanted charge remains unmoved, still curled up as small as she can possibly make herself, which is pretty damned small.

“A-are you g-g-gonna take me b-back to da-daddy?”

God give him strength but that stuttering is getting real old real quick. “Ne.” He swings the door open as quietly as possible and waits for a moment, listening for any movement outside, before carefully stepping out and making his way to the stairwell. With the knowledge that their escape route is currently free of hostiles, he takes a deep, centering breath and heads back to where he began.

“Look, holčička.” He crouches down in front of the child and tries to sound as reasonable as possible. Given his current level of frustration, he thinks that he is doing a fairly decent job. Miguel, however, would likely disagree. “Either you just come with me and go wherever I go, quietly and without complaint, or I leave you here. Your choice.” Yeah, Miguel would definitely disagree.

From the way that the little girl’s eyes go so much wider than he would have ever imagined possible, he feels safe in assuming that she disagrees as well and, five minutes later, they are creeping down an alleyway with more stealth than Viktor ever would have expected of a kindergartener.

---

What was taking so long?

That is the question that had led Alex out of the band’s bus and that was the question that he now wants to keep from crossing anyone else’s minds. This is all way too fucked up, like the should not be real kind of fucked up. None of this should be happening.

On the ground, backed up against the flat tire of the car that their driver had originally gone to help, Alex kicks hard into the jaw of what may have once been a perfectly lovely young woman and sends her sprawling backward where she lands on top of the monster still gnawing on the corpse of a man who should have still been living and breathing and driving their goddamn bus. Alex’s hand gropes around behind him for anything even remotely useful as a weapon and lands on the tire-iron just in time to smash it into the face of the dead woman once more lunging in his direction. Another strike as she tries to get up and he cringes and almost loses his lunch at the feeling of her skull cracking open and her brain splattering across the pavement. Hell, he really might have lost it if not for the howl coming at him far too fast. This time, he opts not to look as the hears the wet crunch and just leaps to his feet and starts running back toward relative safety.

“Alex?”

Oh fuck. “Stay on the bus, Val!”

“Don’t you fucking tell me what to do, Niccols! What the fuck is going—”

Alex fails to hear the rest as he spins around to slam the tire-iron as hard as he can into something else behind him. This time it gets yanked right out of his hand as the body drops and he scrambles back onto the bus, practically picking up a protesting Val in order to get her out of the way of the door that he immediately slams closed. He lets her go as he collapses into the driver’s seat, wide-eyed and hands shaking, and it takes him a moment to register the sound of his dog whimpering by his knee, let alone that of his own name. When the world comes back into focus, though, Val is staring at him in horror. It takes him another moment to realize why.

“Alex? What the fuck happened?” Whether she sounds more panicked or angry, Alex is far too dazed to tell. Her hands reach for his face, his shoulders, moving down to check every inch. “Are you okay?”

Taking a deep breath, he raises a hand to wipe at his face. No. No he is not okay. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Val does not look like she believes him at all. “Is that—Fuck. That—That’s blood! Why the fuck are you covered in blood?”

Breathe, Alex. Always a good plan to breathe. “Shh. Don’t…” Never mind. Telling her to keep it quiet is pointless. Everybody else will have heard it already.

He shoves himself back to his feet, legs weak and wobbly, and stumbles as he makes his way through the curtain that separates the cabin from the rest of the bus. It is instantly evident that the rest of the band did, in fact, hear all of that. All three of them are already staring at him before he even properly steps into view. He is pretty sure that Sasha is the one choke out an “on shit” and it is definitely Macy whose response comes out as barely a squeak.

“Blood?” On his feet now, Macy rushes in to cling to Alex’s shirt, bodily fluids not withstanding. “None of it’s yours, right? You’re not hurt? You’re okay?”

Again, Alex reminds himself to breathe, turning just enough so that he can see where Val still stands in the doorway, Parker lying on the floor a foot or so behind her, his ears back and expression scared. For her part, Val is gripping the doorway so tightly that Alex can only assume that she is trying very hard not move and crowd him any further.

“None of it’s mine.” He looks at the faces around him, all of them staring, all confused and various degrees of frightened. It brings everything right back into focus. “We need to—” It takes a deep breath in and a slow breath out to get his thoughts back in line. “Everybody grab a bag, pack food, necessities, just—just whatever.” Stepping a little closer to Val, just near enough to pull one of her hands down from the wall and give it a quick squeeze. “We gotta get outta here.”

---

Nate leans out of the passenger side window just far enough to level his sights on one of the creatures that already looks less human and fires. One shot, between the eyes, and it hits the ground and disappears beneath the feet of its companions. He hears a quiet gagging sound come from the driver’s seat and finds himself feeling a bit queasy in turn. They are both going to need to make some real changes to their perspective re: what constitutes a monster and they need to make those changes really quickly because as of right now, it is going to be really difficult to get out of this mess without completely rewiring their conscience.

“Um, Nate?”

With barely a glance spared toward Dennis, Nate focuses himself on reloading. “Yeah?”

“How many, uh—how many of them are back there?”

The question gives him pause but Nate squints to get a count anyway. “About a dozen in view. Why?”

“Because we need to, uh—we have to stop for a minute.”

Nate drops back into his seat so quickly that he nearly smacks his head off the door. “We what?”

Not even bothering to look at him, Dennis simply peels one shaking hand off of the steering wheel to point at something ahead. “We have to stop.”

Nate has to squint but he starts moving the moment that he sees exactly what Dennis is looking at. “I’ve got the door.”

It was rather obvious even from a single glance at a decent distance that the man up ahead, standing stock still in his torn slacks and a blood, rolled shirt-sleeves, was staring straight past the car speeding toward him and cursing the sight of the ever-growing number of zombies trailing behind. Dennis hits the gas and is slamming the breaks in what feels like no time.

Nate shoves the back door open and feels like there is really no room for argument when he shouts to the man to get in but he has been wrong before and apparently he is right now. Instead of heading straight for them, the guy curses in a language that they are now close enough for Nate to tell is definitely not English and turns away.

“Hey!” Dennis spins in his seat to look behind them, which Nate is sure that he immediately regrets. “What the hell? What’s he doing?”

“I don’t know. He’s just—” And that is when the stranger pulls his gun, takes out three approaching zombies in relatively rapid succession, and finally turns to sprint back toward the car. “—getting a little girl.”

The child is practically flung into the back seat and their new passenger wastes no time slamming the door behind himself and snapping, “Go. Now.”

Dennis really does not need to be told and floors it the second he knows the door is closed.

“Take a left onto Carver,” the man continues, his tone speaking volumes regarding how unwilling he would be to hear any question or protest. “Follow signs for the mall plaza.” He leans out the window to pick off a few more of the monsters before Nate’s slightly incredulous look catches his attention and his scowl is honestly pretty terrifying. “You’ll be out of gas before the edge of town so, under the assumption that you wish to live—”

Nate’s eyes narrow in suspicion but Dennis has absolutely no qualms against following the orders of anyone with a plan right now and practically takes the aforementioned turn on two wheels when he nearly misses it.

---

“Are you sure you can hotwire this piece of shit?”

“It’s not a piece of shit, it’s a fucking classic.”

Val rolls her eyes at that as she continues trying to calm the utterly panicked Macy currently clinging to her so tightly that he might as well just climb into her goddamn skin. “Fine. Can you really hotwire this ‘fucking classic’?”

Two seconds later, the engine revs up as Alex sits back in the driver’s seat with a trin and a waggle of his stupid eyebrows. Sasha squeals in relief and flings her arms around him from her place in the back seat, as he laughs. “My mechanical genius is wasted on this red wire green wire bullshit.”

He pops the trunk just as something begins to stir inside of the nearby diner and Val shoves Sasha aside to squeeze Macy in so that she can help Nico load their bags at record speed. By the time she flings herself into the front passenger seat, there are already zombies starting to stumble out of the woodwork. Fuck seatbelts. “Gun it!”

Alex hits the gas and they peel out of the parking lot just as the diner’s doors give way.

He had tried to explain what had happened while they packed. It had felt impossible for Val to actually wrap her mind around it at first but once she had seen the mess outside? She had practically dragged Alex and Macy off in search of the nearest source of potential transportation. They needed to find something quickly and it needed to be something fast and she needed to not think about how painfully familiar the blood and gore looked, though she had only ever seen anything like it in her nightmares. When Alex had needed to stop and vomit into the nearest garbage can, she had a feeling that she understood why and a little pocket of rage flared to life in her chest – not because he had to stop but because he never should have been the one to wind up with someone else’s blood on his hands.

“Where are we going?” Macy is the one to finally ask, almost inaudible from where he has curled up against Sasha now, and Val catches his eye in the rearview mirror before she looks toward Alex.

Alex, however, is entirely too focused on driving to really think but so much and instead catches her eye before clearing his throat. “Nick?”

In the back, Nico turns away from the horrors outside of his window. “What?”

“How do you defend yourself against a zombie invasion?”

“Wha—Zombies aren’t exactly my specialty here.”

“No,” Alex agrees, “but zombies are supposed to be a helluva lot dumber than, say, Reavers, right? You know Reavers.”

“So?”

“So how would you defend yourself against an invasion of retarded Reavers?”

The drummer just stares at him for a moment with an expression that plainly says that he may consider that to be the dumbest question that he has ever heard. Eventually, thought, there is an answer. “I’d find the most well-stocked, easily-fortifiable location I could think of and hope I could wait out the attack or find some other way to get through them.”

There is silence in the car and then Alex shrugs. “All right. So, where’s the most well-stocked and easily-fortifiable location we can think of?

Five minutes later, they find themselves screeching into the parking lot of the local mall. The location almost seems somehow normal, given the situation at hand. In fact, were it not for the shrieking horde behind them or the knowledge that Alex is currently doing seventy into a public lot, it might almost feel a little reminiscent of home. Val almost finds it funny, really. What’s funnier to her than coming to a mall for safety, however, is the fact that they were obviously not the only ones with that idea, as they are definitely not the only ones pulling into the place with a bunch of undead goons straggling along behind them.

---

“Miguel.”

There is a burst of static in his ear as Viktor leans out to empty his 22 into the crowd of creatures still chasing behind the car that had picked him up on the highway. Once within range, he takes out a couple of the ones latching on to the other car that had pulled in to the lot at about the same time, too. When his magazine clicks empty, he makes a snap decision to save his 20 for later and drops back into the seat to reload. The driver glances at him in the rearview, looking a little bit frightened, while the original passenger only eyes him for a moment before leaning out of the other side with a freshly loaded shotgun. His fellow gunner might not be terribly trusting but at least Viktor can respect that. Besides, who needs trust? The guy’s a fairly good shot.

“Zatratím tě, Miguel!” The little girl still curled up beside him whimpers. He can hear it over the gunfire, the static, all of the goddamned zombies. It is grating on his very last nerve. “Odpovídáš mě!”

He could hope for no better response than to lean back out just in time to watch as a line of four hostiles drops one by one.

“En ingles, ’mano.” Another line of undead hit the ground as the line sputters out then clears up again, leaving room for easily the most welcome voice he has ever known. “Now where the Hell have you been?”

Viktor nearly laughs. “We can trade stories later, miláčku. Right now, I need cover fire while I try to get these people into the posraný mall.”

“Going shopping?”

“Sklapni. We try the mall or they come to your shop.”

“How many?”

Viktor glances toward the other vehicle still circling around the parking lot with them. “Eight plus me.”

“Well, if they dropped you—”

“Miguel.”

“Sí, sí, the mall sounds like a plan. There’s a garage off to your right. No good angle for me to shoot the lock off but I can keep the number of uglies down while you get in.”

“Děkuji.”

“That means thank you, sí?”

Viktor rolls his eyes. “Sí.”

The line bursts back into static with a laugh.

---

As it turns out, the garage door does not, in fact, require a shot to the lock. It rolls up just enough for the two cars to through before Dennis’s little hatchback even hits the ramp. On the other side, a young woman motions for them to hurry while two men in security uniforms stand to either side of the entrance to help keep the monsters at bay, though it appears that this Miguel guy really only needs the most basic of assistance. His precision is honestly kind of terrifying and Dennis is just as glad not to see any more examples of it as he swerves off to one side so that the other car has room. Nate and their scarier passenger are both out before he even has the damned thing in park, seeing to it that nothing gets in the way of girl at the door to slam the thing shut.

“We saw you on the security cameras,” of the security guards explains as he climbs up to try and jam the gears.

The other car’s driver takes a moment to collect himself, then grabs a wrench and makes his way over to the ladder. “Here. Let me have a look at that.”

“Figured we couldn’t just leave you out there.” The guard climbs down to let the driver up. “Then Shannon said she thought you were headed this way.”

“Thanks.” Dennis finally climbs out only to stretch over the top of his car.

The woman now known as Shannon simply smiles. “No problem. Mercy for your fellow man or something like that.” She laughs and shrugs, looking slightly flustered, though that is probably to be expected, all things considered. “Anyway, come on. Let’s get you all inside. We’ve got food, clothes, relatively comfortable furniture… We’ll get you poor things all cleaned up and sorted out in no time.”

There is a general rumble of agreement as the little group follows her to the door that leads into the connected store, allowing themselves to be ushered toward where another girl is waiting somewhat impatiently. That is, they all follow along aside from one man, anyway, who simply mutters something into his headset before switching it off and making his way back over to the hatchback. Shannon looks back, confused, as does Nate, though he looks more suspicious about it.

Dennis just sighs. “The little girl.” Then he ducks through the doorway and drags Nate away after the rest.

---

“Come on, holčička.” Viktor crouches down beside the open car door with a sigh as the child remains curled up in the center of the back seat. Children. How did anyone actually deal with children, let alone have them by choice?

The little girl simply whimpers and mumbles, “There are monsters out there.”

Well, at least the stuttering has stopped and he supposes he can concede that she has a fair point. “The monsters are outside, not with us.”

Before he can receive a response or think of anything more convincing to say, there is someone else coming up behind him, bending down to look the child in the eye with a painfully sympathetic and all too sugarcoated smile. He might be able to handle the sight of it at any other time but right now, with everything that he has just been through and the way that she has the gall to place one of her hands on his shoulder as if—God, he would really like to wipe that smile off of her face.

“Hi, there,” she says, voice floating in a way that speaks plainly of a familiarity with appeasing people under the age of seven. “I’m Shannon. What’s your name?”

Caught slightly off-guard, the child squeaks. “Um. I—I’m—” The little girl shoots a quick glance toward Viktor then, almost as if asking permission to speak with this new stranger before she finally answers. “I’m Amanda.”

Shannon’s smile becomes even brighter, even sweeter, if that is even possible, and Viktor has to dig his nails into his palms to keep himself from taking out her kneecaps when she leans even further over him, hand squeezing his shoulder. “Amanda? Well, that’s a pretty name! Are you hungry, Amanda?”

The little girl nods.

“Well, we’ve got all sorts of food inside. We’ve got toys, too, and games and books and all sorts of neat stuff.”

“And—and no monsters?”

Shannon laughs. “And no monsters.”

Still curled up in the seat, Amanda chews worriedly at her lip for a moment longer, eyes flashing back and forth between the two adults still there in the door. Shannon keeps smiling, encouraging. Viktor just stays crouched there with a clenched jaw and a headache starting to build behind his eyes. When the girl finally moves, though, it does not go entirely as expected. Rather than reaching for Shannon’s offered hand, she instead launches herself forward to wrap her little arms tight around Viktor’s neck and duck her head in under his chin, completely unaware of the rather undignified look of surprise that he is entirely unable to keep off of his face. Unhelpfully, all Shannon does in response is giggle.