#i once again have forgotten what tags i used last time oh well

[five-rivers]

Life's Great Lie 16

AO3

Sand swirled on the flight deck. 

“I thought I told you not to do that while I’m driving!” snapped Jazz.

“It’s an emergency.”

Jazz twisted to look at Tucker.  “What, did something go wrong with--?”

“No, that’s all fine.  This, though?”  He pointed at the alien-spewing portal.  “This is an emergency.  Backup’s still got a ways to go before they reach the portal.  I came to scout things out.”

“How long is ‘a ways?’” asked Sam. 

“I don’t know.  You know how distances can get in there.  Maybe fifteen minutes?  I can pull a couple of people over with me at a time, like with Thor here, but—”

“Thor came with you?” interrupted Jazz. 

“Yeah, he’s—What the heck, how did he do that?  He’s huge.”

“Never mind that,” said Sam.  “Are you okay to keep using the staff like that?”

“I’m fine.  I’ve been managing my jerkish urges by being low-key kind of a jerk to Valerie.”

“That doesn’t sound like managing them at all, actually.”

“I’m fine.”

He didn’t sound fine.  But then, who was?  Not Jazz. 

“How’s the shield setup going?” continued Tucker, not giving Jazz a chance to dispute his statement. 

“Not great,” said Sam.  “Romanov got ahold of one of those bikes and we’re trying to get the generators set up on nearby buildings, but—” She summarized the rest of the technical problems (explosions, enemy forces, skyscraper roofs being really far apart) with a shrug. 

It really was too bad that Loki’s portal was so far up, and that they didn’t dare bring the Ops Center closer.  Then, they could have tried to encircle the portal with the Ops Center shield. 

But the blimp was not a match for space whales.  Or whatever those things actually were.  And they were still unclear on what forces Loki had in the building. 

Apart from Danny, who, really, was more than capable of drilling a hole through an unshielded Ops Center.

“How can I—Oh, heck.  He isn’t.”

“Isn’t what?” asked Jazz, trying to see what Tucker was so upset about.  She leaned forward and flinched as a gust of hot, sandy air scraped along the back of her neck.  “I hate that.”

“There!” said Sam, pointing. 

There was someone new on the roof of Stark Tower.  Two someones.  Thor, and now Tucker. 

“Oh, no, they’re both idiots,” said Jazz.  Her dramatic, tension-filled reunion with a mind-controlled family member could wait.  Why couldn’t Thor’s?

One of the computer banks beeped.  “We have incoming,” said Sam.  “Ten o’clock.”

“I see them,” said Jazz, spotting the small formation.  But the Ops Center didn’t have any power to spare.  All it had was going into the portal and the shields. 

“Should I go out?” asked Sam. 

“No way,” said Jazz.

“I have a bazooka.  And a jetpack.”

“That’s not—”

Something small and narrow arced upward into the lead glider, then exploded.   

“Oh, yeah,” said Sam.  “I’d forgotten about arrow boy.”

.

“Loki!  Turn off the Tesseract or I’ll destroy it!”

“Brother!” exclaimed Loki.  “Come, drink with me!  For the dawn of a new and more balanced age!”

Danny did not like that emphasis on balanced.  It sounded like something out of someone else’s mouth.   And Loki had said it, or something like it, before, to Iron Man, hadn’t he?  But Danny had other concerns at the moment.  “Hey,” he said, by way of greeting.  “So, before we start, is he drunk enough to be actually impaired?  He keeps telling me Asgardians are different and all, but I’m not super clear if he’s actually an Asgardian, like, species-wise, culturally, obviously, I mean.  Is he drunk?”

“What?” asked Thor. 

“Look, I haven’t slept in…  I just haven’t.  So.  Words.  Forget them.”  He pointed at Loki.  “Drunk?”

“I’m not drunk,” said Loki.  “I am merely showing Thor some hospitality.”

Thor scowled at them and turned his hammer on the Tesseract.  Naturally, it bounced off the shield, and Thor flew backward several meters. 

“Should I have warned him?” asked Danny.  He was sort of annoyed that Thor hadn’t at least answered the question about alcohol. 

“It wouldn’t have made any difference,” said Loki, draining another shot of alcohol.  “He never listens to me when I tell him things, anyway.”

“That might be because you’re sort of unhinged.”

“Oh, yes, so unlike SHIELD and Fury, using an infant as a soldier.”

A gust of sand blew over the roof, revealing Tucker. 

“Oh, hi, Tuck!” said Danny, waving.  “Here all by yourself?”

Tucker looked up, red flashing behind his glasses as he wobbled.  “A son of Ra never walks alone.  Wadjet rests upon my brow, Nekhbet shelters me with her wings.”

Oh, that didn’t sound good. 

“Finally,” said Loki.  “Someone who can give me a decent fight.”  He threw the glass aside and walked forward, only to be stopped by Thor. 

“No, brother,” said Thor.  “If you fight, you fight with me.”

“Well, sounds like it’s just you and me, then,” said Danny, pleasantly unsure about his odds against Tucker given their respective current states.  Ice crackled under his feet even as the air grew dry and desert-like.  To their side, Loki and Thor fought with more traditional means. 

Captain America and Black Widow zoomed by the tower on a stolen chitauri glider.  Both Danny and Loki noticed at the same time and turned to fire – Danny hoping Tucker would take advantage of the distraction, Loki for who knew what, considering he was still in the middle of a rather nasty sibling brawl, complete with hair pulling on both ends.

Thor tackled Loki and the bolt from the scepter missed.  Danny’s ectoblast didn’t.

.

It was only a slight graze, one that barely made the chitauri bike shudder, but it must have gone through something important, because although they weren’t in freefall, Steve and Natasha soon found themselves in a steep spiral.

Steve prepared to grab Natasha and jump.  Bleeding off even a little momentum meant a lot in these situations. 

But before they got close enough to the ground to do so, sand blasted up, buoying them up with enough force for Natasha to get more control and set them on the street in one piece even as individual grains of sand scored lines in their protective gear and sometimes their skin.  The sandstorm died down, revealing a street full of enemies, Stark Tower looming high above them, and other bikes hurtling towards the ground and exploding into fireballs.  The sandstorm had, apparently, been too much for them.  The street itself was, and there was no good way to say this, brutally shredded.  Not a single window on the block still had glass in it.  Was that where all the sand had come from?

The portal disgorged another huge creature, flanked by fliers.  Steve could spot what looked like hundreds of soldiers on it, made tiny by distance. 

“Well, plan A is screwed,” said Natasha, as they prepared to fight.  “What now?”

Steve touched his communicator – the Fenton Phone – then turned to slam a chitauri soldier into the ground.  He tossed the weapon to Natasha.  “Fentons,” he said, “we’ve been shot down.  Can you make a shield around the portals with the generators we’ve already dropped?”

“No can do, Cap!” shouted Jack Fenton.  “Any shield we could make right now would miss it by a mile!  Geometry’s all wrong!”

Steve looked up the tower again, casually deflecting an energy blast from one of the Chitauri.

“What’re you thinking?” asked Natasha. 

“What if we got some of the generators up on top of Stark Tower?”

“That might work,” said Maddie Fenton.  “We’re going to have to do some very fast and dirty math to get everything working, but I think it might work…”

There were screams – civilians – down the street, and Steve’s whole body twitched towards them.

“Give me the generators,” said Natasha, acquiring another weapon as her first one seemed to run out of charge.  “You go.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.  Given how big Stark Tower is, and how many people Loki probably had, sneaking through that place is more my thing, anyway.”

“And I can give you some tips!” said Stark, who had, of course, been listening in.

“Alright,” said Steve, already planning on how best to organize a civilian retreat.  He tossed the pack of shield generators to Natasha, who caught them easily. 

“Don’t die!” she said. 

“Don’t plan on it!”

.

Tucker jerked his staff sideways with a gasp, and that was enough of an opening for Danny.  He stepped forward, smoothly, winter in his wake, sliding past the not-quite-real vulture and snake that had faded into being around Tucker. 

Duulaman had given Danny a lot of trouble the first time around, throwing constructs in his path and warping reality as he saw fit.  But there was a lot to be said about experience. 

He grabbed Tucker’s wrist and squeezed.  The snake sunk its teeth into Danny’s shoulder.  They all hissed.  Danny looked into Tucker’s red eyes, and wondered if the color of his eyes was just as jarring to Tucker. 

Then, the red flared brighter and Tucker—

Tucker dropped the scepter.  The red in his eyes vanished immediately. 

“No, no, no, I can’t do that,” said Tucker, whose skin had taken on a clammy, sickly cast.  “No, nope, not doing that, oh my gosh—”

Danny grabbed the scepter and tossed it over the edge of the building.  Which was… okay, that could have gone better.  

“Sorry,” said Danny.

“Crap,” said Tucker, but he wasn’t a threat any longer, so Danny let him go.  He had his orders. 

Protect Loki. 

“Loki!” shouted Thor, even as Danny pushed him away and called up a shield.  “Look at this! Look around you! You think this madness will end with your rule?”

“It’s too late,” said Loki, voice cracking.  “It’s too late to stop it.  Any of it.”

“The army isn’t ours,” reminded Danny, helpfully, looking back.  He could see the knife between Loki’s fingers. 

The sounds of battle seemed to swell.  The shadow of one of the huge space whales passed overhead. 

“Get me out of here,” whispered Loki.

“Got it,” said Danny, and he pulled them both off the side of the building. 

.

Tucker didn’t know how much more of this his heart could take.  First, Captain America and Black Widow going down, then the sudden fear that he’d killed them with that glass sandstorm, then Danny getting the scepter from him and tossing it off the roof, and now Danny and Loki were skydiving without parachutes.

Please let them not have pancaked on the ground.  He knew Danny could tap his flight a little, even in human form, but there was still that fear.

“Call back your staff!” called Thor.  “We must go!”

“Wh—I don’t know what you can do with your hammer, but I can’t just call back that thing,” said Tucker.  “It’s probably broken into a million pieces on the sidewalk by now!”  And good riddance, honestly.  He could still feel something in the back of his head.  Something nasty. 

“Have you ever tried?  Tools like that tend to return to their rightful owners,” said Thor, taking a few steps towards him.  “I do not pretend to know what you are going through with this ‘past life’ of yours, but you can control it.  Just as Banner controls his anger, or any mage of my people controls the power that flows through them.  And you must.  This city depends on us.”

“Oh, no pressure, then,” said Tucker. 

“Good man.”  Thor patted him on the shoulder and then jumped off the building.  Great!  Great.  It wasn’t like there was any other way for him to get off this roof, what with Loki’s other forces in the building.  He was stuck on the roof alone!

“Ughhhh.”

Or maybe not so alone.  He pulled his emergency lipstick out of his pocket.  Not the best weapon against humans – and he had no idea what it would do to aliens – but it was better than nothing.  And how arrogant had the staff made him, that he didn’t think to get something more robust from the Ops Center before leaving? 

Near the portal device, an old man was sitting up, holding his head.  “Ugh, oh, no.  Oh, no.”  He stared up at the portal in awe and horror. 

“Hey,” said Tucker. 

The man jumped.  “Who’re you?”

“Who’re you?”

They stared at each other for a moment. 

“… are you pointing a tube of lipstick at me?”

He had pretty good eyesight for such an old guy. 

“It’s a deadly laser,” said Tucker.  Well.  It was a laser, and it did have an association with death, via ghosts, so.  It wasn’t like he was lying.  “Are you one of Loki’s people?  Did you help make this?”

“I—Not of my own will.”  The man got to his feet shakily.  “I was—The scepter.  You can’t—You can’t protect against yourself.”

“I know the feeling,” said Tucker.  “You know any way to shut it off?”

The man nodded, slowly.  “Yes.  Yes, we did.”

“You and Danny?”

“All of us.  Loki…  There’s something very wrong with Loki.”

“Cool.  So.  How do we do it?”

“We need Loki’s staff.”

.

After they’d fallen a few stories, Danny flipped them into the building.  Whatever Tucker had done had taken out all the glass, leaving Stark Tower, with its ultra-modern design, missing much of its outer walls.  Loki landed easily, which maybe, maybe supported his position that he wasn’t drunk. 

Maybe. 

He also caught Danny by the arm when he stumbled.

“What’s wrong with you?” he snapped. 

“Uh.  Not sleeping in days.  What’s wrong with you?”

Loki scoffed.  “Hide us,” he ordered. 

Danny turned them invisible.

“So… What now?”

“I should be leading this army,” said Loki, looking out into the city, his eyes slightly unfocused even as Thor swooped down from the roof and back out into battle.  “I should be directing them—They should be hunting down these heroes, not wasting time with humans that aren’t even warriors.”

Danny swallowed.  Loki was right – right both ways, actually.  The way the chitauri were fighting was stupid, but it wasn’t stupid enough.  Fewer people would get hurt if they were focused on people who could take it.  Except…  “You do know it isn’t your army, right?  You do—What happens,” Danny tried, a bit desperately, “when your boss comes through that portal?”

Loki froze.  His breathing went shallow.  “No, no, no,” he said.  “That was not our bargain.  I will deliver the Tesseract and the scepter to him.  He has no reason… no reason…” 

“What did he do to you?” pushed Danny.  If he knew it was something bad, then maybe…

Loki shook his head.  “I need to take command.”  His voice was flat, lifeless. 

“Okay,” said Danny.  “Elevator or stairs?”

Green light flared from above, and they both strode to the edge of the floor to look up. 

.

“We’ve got increased energy influx, kiddos!” said Jack over the Ops Center intercom.  “Get ready to adjust for momentum bleed-off, Jazzypants!”

“Right, right, right,” said Jazz, making sure she had a good grip on the controls.  If this wound up being a thing where they had codenames printed in the newspaper, and hers wound up being Jazzypants, she’d be committing some crimes. 

“Wait, what does he mean momentum bleed-off?” asked Sam, who had noticed what controls Jazz had and was now buckling herself in. 

“Ever notice that you slow down when you go through a portal?”

“Sped up a few times, too.”

“Well, that energy goes somewhere, so—”

The Ops Center lurched, and Jazz steadied it in the air, running the engines just enough to keep them in place.  The anchor was all very well and good, but it had limits, too. 

A familiar figure, smaller than the space whales but, but still huge, with a weapon held in each of her four hands, emerged from the portal, trailing dozens of smaller glowing dots. 

“Yes!” shouted Sam.  “They made it!”

And then the shield cut out. 

“Uh, we might have underestimated the juice the portal would take when actively transmitting.  Just a bit.”

[hobiebrownismygod]

Forgotten Girl Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader Part 2/2!

A/N Sorry this took so long 😭 I've been pretty busy.

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Taglist: @therealloopylupin2099 @rinverse @l0starl @daydreaming-en-pointe @itsparis-077 @vileviale @puff-hugs @d0ubl-tr0ubl3 @lauryn2558 @sunasslut69 @ask-1610-miles @axels-garden @s6onder @nyx-lyn123 @eli21345 @miniaturesuitfox @spotconlon55 @riris-radioactive-panther @ask-1610miles

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───> TAGLIST --> MASTERLIST

He hadn't spoken to you in weeks. In fact, Hobie didn't think he'd even seen you around much after your last conversation. You were always so slippery, avoiding him every time he tried to come talk to you and heading out on missions almost every hour of every day.

He didn't understand why you were being so distant. Well, the two of you had never been friends friends, never been as buddy-buddy as he was with Gwen and Pavitr, but he always had liked you. He thought you were sweet, kind, the all-around good girl that he could start up a conversation with every once in a while.

And now he couldn't help but a feel a little put-off by the way you were acting. After all, if it was just slipping away, he wouldn't mind as much...but you were also being so snarky.

Giving him bored looks when he tried to start up small-talk (conversation which he absolutely hated by the way, he only did it so he could try to figure out what was going on with you), being louder, no longer as quiet as you'd been whenever he was around before, and best of all...you were funny. He couldn't even remember you making a real joke, a sarcastic, fiery one around him before...until now.

And if he was being honest...he liked it.

He liked this you.

It was like you were finally being your real self, the one he'd heard about from your friends and other Spider-people, and even if this personality wasn't the sort he was used to from you, it was still fun to see.

"Oi!" he grabbed your arm as you attempted to walk past him, your eyes dead set forward as if you didn't even see him. "Where'ya off to?"

"Nowhere important" You replied normally, looking up at him. Seeing him staring down at you, a coy smile on his face, made your heart wrench slightly. But you'd already given up. There was no point.

"Nowhere? But you're waddling away so quickly" he teased, leaning down slightly so his eyes met yours. When you didn't respond, his smile faded slightly and he cleared his throat, standing up straight.

"Have you been avoidin' me these past weeks?" He asked abruptly.

Your eyes widened slightly and you immediately scoffed and pushed his hand off your arm. "Not everything's about you, you know" You said, biting the inside of your cheek.

"Oh?" He asked with a laugh. "Someone's gotten snarky, 'aven't dey?" His accent thickened slightly as he stood back, searching for a way to get you to stay. "Come on, dove, jus tell me where you're going!"

"Miguel called me for another mission" You said, folding your arms over your chest.

"You going with anyone?" he asked curiously, cocking his head to the side.

"Why's it matter to you?" You asked with a slight smile.

He shrugged. "Maybe I want to come with you."

"To...?"

"No reason. Just tagging along." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking to the side. "Just haven't talked to you in a while s'all"

"Aww, did you miss talking to me?" You teased, "I never knew our little convos mattered so much to you"

"They did." He admitted, a little more solemnly. He hesitated for a moment, taking a breath before explaining, "Look, dove, I like you, alright? I really do. And honestly?" He smiled, leaning in slightly again. "I missed you a little bit." He pinched his fingers together in front of you, taking your hand. "Just a little."

You felt your face heat up slightly and you immediately looked away. "I never knew that." You said quietly. You'd always thought you were more of a burden to him. That he never noticed you or that you just weren't noticeable. Yet apparently...he did notice you. More than he'd admitted.

"Really? Thought I was making it obvious...always talking to you and shit" He said with a raised brow. "Was the small-talk not plain enough?"

You chuckled, looking up at him with a grin. "The small-talk was horrific."

"That was the goal" He winked, pulling you in a little closer. "I think I like seeing you like this. All smiley and fun."

"Really?" You asked, smile fading slightly as a feeling of warmth began bubbling in your chest. "I'm fun like this?"

"I mean the whole 'sweet', 'quiet' look suited you fine, yeah, but I think you're a lot more interesting when you're open with me, darling" He chuckled, pressing his lips gently to the palm of your hand.

You smiled. So...you weren't as much of a burden as you'd thought you were.

Why had you even stayed hiding your real personality from him all these months? You'd expected him to not like you, to think you were too loud, too annoying. That's what you'd been told before.

But it seemed like the reason your little antics hadn't been working was because they weren't real. They weren't the real you.

And now that you were showing him the real you...well it just felt better, both to him and to you.

You were snapped out of your thoughts, eyes widening as he wrapped his hand around your wrist, holding it in his rather large palm.

He hesitated at your action, pulling his head back slightly. "I'm not moving too fast, am I?" He asked awkwardly.

Suddenly, you pulled him into a needed hug, burying your face in his chest and taking him by surprise. He stumbled back slightly, not having expected it. It took him a moment to adjust before returning the hug, patting your back gently. "Dove?"

"I think I've waited long enough" you mumbled with a smile, looking up into his eyes with your arms still wrapped tightly around him. "So let's speed things up, yeah?"

[vaguesxrrow]

Can you maybe do from 911 a buck x celebrity!reader? Where something happens during her concert (a fire on the stage or the stage breaks and she falls down with it and is buried under it) and Buck is a fan of the reader and has a celebrity crush on her.

I dont know i had this idea stuck in my head and didnt see anyone writing something like this!

tysm for the ask! and ofc, here you go! hopefully it's what you had in mind :)

cinderella

evan buckley/reader

tags: female reader, fluff, flirting, technological and medical inaccuracies, use of y/n, buck being awkward and not knowing how to act around reader

cw's: swearing

wc: 1,190

reader is a famous singer, and also buck's celebrity crush.

You adjusted your outfit as the backstage crew bustled about, looking in the vanity mirror. You took a deep breath, trying to block out the frantic orders thrown around in the background, as well as worried words being exchanged between coworkers about how the staging had been very "last minute".

Whenever this happened - staging arrangements being rushed - it made you nervous, so you were determined not to focus on it.

You checked the clock on the wall; the audience had probably finished filing into the stadium by now. You listened closely past the talking of the backstage crew, managing to make out the excited chatter of your fans. This gave you a bit more confidence. Your fans believed in you, and you loved them, so you weren't going to let a little performance anxiety get in the way of giving them an amazing show.

Your assistant tapped you on the shoulder. "Miss Y/n, it's time for your entrance," she said, handing you a microphone.

"Thank you. Do I look okay?" you asked.

"Stunning as usual!" she assured. "Now go out there and break a leg!"

You slipped through the curtain and stepped onstage. The second the crowd took note of your arrival, they erupted into screams and cheers. Immediately, a huge grin appeared on your face. You waved with both hands, and blew a few kisses as you made your way to centre stage.

"Thank you!" you said into your mic. "Thank you all of you for being here. I love and appreciate all of you."

The audience screamed in response.

"Before we begin this performance, one last reminder to stay safe out there in the crowd!" you said. "Alright, let's get started!"

The lights dimmed, the music began, and the crowd erupted into cheers once again. However, not long after you sang your first note, you had the chilling sensation that something was wrong.

You looked up just in time to see one of the light fixtures fall. You jumped out of the way just in time, the spotlight missing you by inches. You landed flat on your back on the floor the same time the spotlight did, both of you going down with a huge thump. You vaguely noted that the wires on the spotlight had ripped, and one of them was tangled around your ankle. It appeared to also be caught in the heel of your boot.

Suddenly, you saw a spark, and before you could even blink, the spark evolved into a full-blown fire. You screamed, attempting to scramble away. However, as soon as you got up, you fell again, and a shooting pain went up your leg. Fuck, you'd forgotten about the wire.

"Somebody call 911!" you yelled.

⌦ -- -- Buck's pov

"Tell us more about this fire, cap?" Buck prompted from where he sat in the backseat of the engine.

"Electrical fire at Lavender Plaza. There was a concert happening-"

"Wait, Lavender Plaza?" Buck exclaimed. "That's where Y/n L/n is performing!" His mouth was open in awe, and he turned to look at his crewmates. "Oh my god, you guys have no idea how much I wanted to go see that concert. I'm actually in love with her," he gushed. "Holy shit, is she okay, though?"

"Yes, the victim's name is Y/n L/n. Apparently, one of the spotlight fixtures fell onstage. It's an electrical fire - not too big, but still enough to be dangerous, especially since Y/n is unable to escape due to a wire around her ankle," Bobby continued.

"Guys, we have to go save her," Buck yelled.

"That's what we're doing right now," Eddie, Hen, and Chimney said in unison.

Buck's eyes grew impossibly wider. "Holy shit, I'm about to meet my celebrity crush!" he exclaimed.

⌦ -- -- y/n's pov

You nearly cried of relief when you heard the sirens approaching. The fire had engulfed most of the stage area opposite you, but luckily, you were in the safe zone for now.

The firefighters jumped into action, literally. You coughed at the CO2 from the fire extinguishers. As soon as the fire was put out, you saw a firefighter leap over the spotlight, landing next to you. You vaguely heard someone reprimand him - "Buck! Be careful!".

The firefighter - Buck, apparently - only gave a thumbs up in response.

"Okay, Y/n," he said, light blue eyes looking down at you in concern. "Don't you worry, I'm gonna get you free."

You nodded. "How do you know my name?"

"Buck over here is a big fan," you heard a voice to your left say. A woman with glasses set down a first aid kit next to you. "I'm Hen. Does it hurt anywhere, honey?"

"Um, I think I broke my leg or something, cause it really hurts."

Hen nodded in acknowledgement.

"Alright," Buck piped up. "It looks like the wire is just caught on your boot, so if we unbuckle this thing, you'll be free."

"Oh my god," you said. "Thank you."

"Hey, you're pretty much Cinderella, now," Buck joked as he finished unbuckling your boot. He held it up. "You know, with the lost shoe and all that."

"Does that make you my prince charming, then?" you teased.

Buck blushed, stammering. Before he coukd get out a response, Hen and another paramedic lifted you onto a gurney, wheeling you away.

⌦ -- --

You were breathing steadily into the oxygen mask, just as Hen had instructed you. Then, you spotted Buck making his way towards where you were currently sitting on your stretcher. He was still clutching your boot.

"Hey," you said. "Thanks again for saving me."

"Hi," Buck breathed. "Is this real?"

"Unfortunately for me, yes," you grumbled, casting a forlorn look at your broken leg. You remembered how your assistant had told you to 'break a leg' earlier. The irony.

"Right, no, of course, I didn't mean it like that! Oh god, I'm so sorry!" he rambled.

"It's okay," you laughed. "You just saved my life, I'm probably gonna love you forever, now."

Buck blushed a deep crimson. "Can I have your autograph?" he asked. "This probably isn't an appropriate time, but I mean, your hands aren't broken or anything, so I figured it'd be fine? If you're fine? If you're fine with it, not if you're fine in general, cause you know, you just broke your leg and everything." he snapped his mouth shut. "I'm gonna stop talking now."

You laughed. Looking at him fondly, you took in his features. His very good looking features, you noted.

"I'd love to give you an autograph," you told him. "I'd even give you a picture, but I'm a mess right now."

"I think you still look great," Buck blurted.

"Thank you," you giggled.

"Hey, if you stop by the hospital later, I'll get you my autograph and a picture. And maybe even dinner, if my prince charming's up for it." You winked.

Hen and another paramedic came to wheel you away. The last glimpse you got of Buck was him still staring ahead, a slightly dazed look in his eye and a smile on his lips.

Yeah, he looked like a prince charming to you.

---------

a/n: okay before you start thinking that reader getting caught in the wire is inaccurate, id like to say that ive been trapped under those big wire rope things before when i was younger, and that shit is HEAVY like no joke

[firecrxtch]

Frilly fuckin' smelly shit

hiii i wrote a silly little thing🫧🛁💙🩵

Summary: Maybe a bath with your hubby isn't so bad after all

Tags: Fluff, pure fucking fluff, bath bombs as a love language, post-canon

Words: 766

Rating: Teen

READ ON AO3

or read under the cut

When Ian emerges from the bathroom, he finds Mickey sprawled out on the couch, phone in hand while the TV is playing in the background.

“Ey,” he says. “What are you up to?”

“I, uh, just filled up the tub. Thought you might join me?” Ian says, fiddling with the ring on his finger.

Micky opens his mouth to speak, but Ian interrupts before he can get any words out.

“I got that soap that doesn’t smell too strong, because I know you hate that, and just one big candle so we don’t sit in total darkness - or we could just keep the lamp on, if you prefer. I don’t know, I just thought it could be nice if…”

“Ian,” Mickey says, looking tense.

Ian instantly regrets asking.  

“Listen, man, I-uh, I’m just not really into it. There’s not enough room for both of us and the faucet was digging into my back the whole time and… I just don’t like it.”

Ian tries his hardest not to look like a kicked puppy and he’s clearly not succeeding, because Mickey’s eyes grow soft, and Ian can tell he’s choosing his words very carefully.

“I’d rather just hang out with you on the couch, we could watch a movie or something?”

Ian keeps fiddling with his ring.

“Yeah, of course. Sorry, you told me you didn’t like it last time. I’m gonna go take a bath, I guess.” Ian says and turns around before Mickey can protest.

He closes the door to the bathroom, feeling fucking pathetic when his vision blurs. It’s not that big of a deal. It’s just a bath, not the end of the world, there’s no reason to be crying over a fucking bath. He quickly undresses and looks at the burning candle standing on the edge of the tub. He blows it out and turns on the overhead lights before submerging himself in the warm water. It's just a bath and Mickey doesn’t like it and Ian needs to get the fuck over it. He's not even in the mood for a bath anymore, but he already filled the tub, so he might as well fucking use it. Besides, he could do with a little alone time right now.

His eyes blink open when he hears the bathroom door creak. Mickey is standing in the door, looking at him with soft apologetic eyes. Mcikey’s eyes land on the blown-out candle before he fishes a lighter from his pocket and lights it. He then turns off the lamp and bares his skin in the golden candlelight. Neither of them says anything when Mickey gets into the tub.

They stare at each other from across the tub for a good minute before Mickey, with great difficulty, turns around and ankers his back against Ian’s chest, causing a bit of water to splash out and land on a little brown bag on the floor.

“What’s that?” Mickey asks.

In the midst of feeling sorry for himself, Ian had almost forgotten that he bought it.

“Oh, uh, it’s just a bath bomb. It’s stupid, don’t know why I bought it. Could give it to Franny, maybe.” Once again Mickey remains silent as his dripping hand emerges from the tub and picks up the bath bomb. It’s dark blue with a bit of glitter. It smells like lavender with a hint of citrus and Ian might have thought of Mickey when he bought it.

“Wanna do the honors?” Mickey asks hands it to Ian.

It quickly darkens the water, looking almost black, the glitter reflecting in the candlelight like starts in the night sky.

“You didn’t have to do that. I know you hate it,” Ian says reveling in the feeling of Mickey’s naked back against his chest, the way he fits so perfectly, tucked under Ian’s chin.

“I couldn’t just leave you out here alone, haven’t got a chance against those puppy eyes you gave me. Anyway, it’s not too bad when I don’t have metal digging into my back, you know,” Mickey shrugs, and Ian can’t help but smile.

“Got something else digging into my back, though,” he says, wiggling around where Ian’s soft cock kisses Mickey’s lower back.

“Shut up,” Ian giggles and he can feel Mickey laughing along with him.

“You are gonna have to clean all this glitter from my ass later, though,” he says.

Ian can’t help but plant a kiss on top if Mickey’s head.

“I can probably manage that.”

“Also, I get to pick the bath bomb next time,” Mickey says and turns his head, matching Ian’s beaming smile.

[pynkgothicka]

May I request oc in a marriage with possessive toxic abusive husband jungkook? Love your blog

Ｃａｋｅ ＪＪＫ

Synopsis - Your married to someone who you loathe and when you try and end things, they turn out for the worse.

Pairing - Dark! Abusive! Husband! Jeon Jungkook x Fem! Wife! Reader

a/n: First Rec out of the way! Its more so a drabble but it's done!!

Tags/Warnings: VIOLENCE AGAINST READER, Yelling, GASLIGHTING, BRANDING, abusive shitty jk.

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

The cake you've made out of your own ambition wasn't turning out the way you wanted.

The icing wouldn't hold and all the intricate designs, let's just say weren't as intricate as you wanted. Not only that but the cake drooped in general, looking as if mocking your depressed life. You took the nearby knife and scraped off the icing once again.

This was supposed to be a stress reliever but all you could do was stress. You couldn't let Jungkook down, not again. But your fate would soon be sealed as the door opened, and the cake still looked messy and undone only having a thin layer of white on it.

You could feel as he walked behind you, a firm set of arms wrapping around your waist. “You made me a cake baby?” The rim of his glasses brushed against your cheek as he planted a kiss. You shuddered under his sickly sweet and calm tone. You knew the worst of him and were all too familiar with that, but this was new.

And anything new with your husband brought bad.

“Mhmm. I'm sorry it's not coming out…. How I wanted it too.” You said, hushed trying to avoid any situation where you'd piss him off. It was always best to tip-toe around, not truly saying whats on your heart and mind.

“Oh don't worry about that. It's going to be just fine.” His finger dug into the top of the cake taking a bit of icing. He sucked it off, humming at the flavor. “Whipped?”

“Mmh.”

“Very good. I'm going to leave you too it alright?”

“Sounds good Jungkook…” You mumbled avoiding saying anything else to him. You just wanted to get through the rest of your day, get in the shower, and head to bed. So you continued ignoring that feeling deep in your chest for the umpteenth time that night.

Something is off. And when something is off you’d learn the best thing to do is not ignore that feeling.

🍰

You had a slice of cake in your lap as you sat next to Jungkook on his large couch. In comparison to everything, you were bland and you knew it. He had all these lavish things and yet he settled for you. A clumsy regular barista who he’d just met.

But the last time you belittled yourself Jungkook didn't take it well and went at you, slamming your head into a nearby wall. In fact, most of Jungkook’s abuse was more so an impulse thing as later on, he’d apologize only to repeat the cycle again

You shuddered at the thought and took another shakey bite of the cake. Jungkooks hand wove its way into your hair, the ghosting of his fingers at the back of your neck making you more uneasy. You were jittery and Jungkook could notice.

“Why are you shaking? Are you cold?” He asked turning to look at you. Yet all ou had was a thousand-mile stare, looking at particularly nothing, mind still lost in thought. You didn't even hear him, your mind running rampant with observations of your life.

Jungkook didn't like that. Why couldn't you give him a simple answer? He tugged at your hair, pulling your head back, and banging into the back of the couch. Your hands shot up holding your now pounding head.

“What the actual fuck!!”

You quickly covered your mouth. You had forgotten your place and should get far away from Jungkook as possible. If you wanted to save yourself from another beating the best thing to do was run.

“What did you just say to me?” His demeanor was calm. That sinister calm you were used to.

“I’m sorry! It- It slipped. It won’t happe-AHH!” You yelled out as Jungkook pushed you away from him, your body hitting the side of the couch. he made his way over to you but you quickly ducked past him. The main goal was to escape his wrath.

You found yourself moving past him and off the couch, heading to the backdoor. You were so close but stopped as you were grabbed by your calf and were quickly forced to the ground. Jungkook climbed on top of you, hovering as his stature showed power and strength.

“Get the fuck off me! I’m sick of this! I’m sick of you!” You cried out struggling to move him off you. He struggled back determined to restrain you, no matter the cost. Your leg hit the side of the dinner table, the vase in the center falling and shattering on the ground.

“Fuck! That was a heirloom you fucking-”

“All you do is beat up on me and I’m over it! I want a di-”

His hands went to your neck using that as leverage to slam your head repeatedly into the ground beneath the both of you. The hit from the couch now pounded even more with each slam into the wooden floor. “Don't. You. Ever. Talk. To. Me. Like. That. Again.” He accentuated each word with a slam into the ground. “You got that?”

“Jungko-”

“You fuckin got that?! Huh!?”

“Yes. Please stop…” You sobbed beneath him. “I won’t ever talk to you like that…”

“Your not gonna leave me right?”

“No…. No, I’m not” You sobbed out. You were so quickly defeated just showing how truly trapped you were. Yu followed his eyes as he looked at the broken vase on the ground. His hand shot out grabbing a large pointed shard. “W-Whats that fo-”

“Shhh. I’m taking some… let's just say precautions.” He ripped your shirt down the middle setting all of his weight on top of you. He directed the shard to your shoulder smiling wickedly. You knew exactly what he was about to do and you couldn't have been more terrified. He slowly dug it into your skin, the shard burning. You hissed out, biting your lip to keep quiet. He moved quickly, your skin feeling hot at the cuts.

“Shit, that's gorgeous baby. Got my initials right on you, so if you do leave who gonna want a branded girl huh?”

“No… None…” You muttered beginning to cry even harder. You looked down seeing a large JK on your shoulder, the pain making it much worse.

He nodded his head and got up breathing now labored. He dropped the shard, picked up your half-eaten cake, and threw the entire thing down next to you, glass and cake shooting out. You cried as Jungkook walked away shaking his head as if he just scolded a child rather than beat and branded up his wife.

“I’m going to grab the hydrogen peroxide. And while I'm gone clean this shit up, I don't pay for this house for you to fuckin dirty it.”

[tearfallpixie]

Make Mama Happy - Chapter 3

Tags: @nerdraging4point0 @thesazzb @synthetic-wasp-570 @circle-with-me @beaker1636 @itsjustemily @witchyweeb34 @agravemisstake @cookiesupplier @cncohshit @faceless-mirror @nonamessblog @yournecessaryevil @black-damask1999

@lyschko666 @vinyardmauro @skulliecadaver-blog @some-daniela @latenightmusiclover

I pouted in the back seat while simultaneously glaring at the driver of the vehicle. Heather had convinced me with her stupid puppy dog eyes to tag along to Vinny's place with her and Rick to watch a movie. I didn't know how I would survive tonight, but at least it was just the four of us instead of a party.

"Oh, come on. It won't be so bad. I promise, Chole," Heather tried to appease me. Ricky had apologized for what he said, and I could tell he was sincere, so I forgave him, but it didn't make us buddies.

"One night. And then never again," I declared, crossing my arms and resigning myself to the impending social gathering. I didn't share with Heather the information about seeing Vinny at the winery, so as far as she was aware, the last time I had seen him was at the party.

We all walked up to Vinny's door, which he opened before we stepped onto the porch. The atmosphere felt tense, and I couldn't shake the feeling that this movie night might not be as uneventful as Heather hoped.

"Hey guys, come on in," Vinny greeted us, his gaze lingering on me before turning his attention to the group. We walked in, and I couldn't help but feel the weight of his scrutiny as we settled on the couch. Ricky and Heather claimed one side, leaving only two spots available, forcing me to sit next to the drummer.

Vinny had chosen an action movie that Heather and Rick had shown interest in, and I found it mildly intriguing. I decided to tag along because it had only recently been released, and I hadn't had a chance to watch it yet. As we settled in, I tried to focus on the movie, but the tension in the room was palpable. I could tell that we were all tense, expecting someone to pop off at any moment.

"Do any of you want popcorn?" Vinny asked, pausing the movie. We were only about 20 minutes into it and had forgotten to consider the snacks beforehand.

"Oh, that sounds delicious! Please?" Heather cheered. Vinny stood and padded to the kitchen quietly.

"Oh, I need something to drink. Anyone else?" I asked, taking the opportunity to escape the tense atmosphere on the couch. Once I took their orders, I followed the drummer into the kitchen. "Just need to get some drinks," I mumbled.

I reached into the fridge and pulled out two water bottles and a Sprite before turning to Vinny. "Do you want me to grab one for you since you'll have your hands full with the popcorn?"

"Sure," he said after a moment of silence. "A Sprite is fine. Thank you." I nodded, sensing the awkwardness but choosing to maintain a level of courtesy. There was the sound of the door opening, prompting us to perk up. Vinny grabbed the bowl and stepped back into the living room to see an older woman standing there holding a comically large box. "Mama? What are you doing here?"

"Well, I forgot to bring over that statue you asked for last week. So I thought I would stop by on my way home today. Hello, Richard and Heather. It's always good to see you," she greeted warmly.

I exchanged a surprised glance with Heather and Rick, Vinny’s mum’s arrival seemed to catch everyone off guard, and I couldn't help but glance over at Vinny. He had a guarded expression on his face so I couldn't tell what he was feeling.

"Hello, Mama Mauro. Looking beautiful as always," Rick flirted, earning an eye roll from me as I went over to set the drinks on the table. Vinny followed me, setting the popcorn down too.

"I don't believe we have had the pleasure of meeting yet," Mrs. Mauro said, holding out her hand. I shook it, introducing myself. 

"I'm Nichole."

"Kyle said my Vincenzo had a girlfriend. I didn't know you would be so pretty," she remarked, casting a discerning eye over me. I glanced at Vinny in alarm, a sentiment mirrored in his expression, but there was an underlying look of pleading in his eyes.

"I wasn't aware that Kyle had said anything," Vinny spoke up, wavering a bit.

"You flatter me, Mrs. Mauro," I mumbled, attempting to maintain a bashful tone. I felt Vinny move into my space, a hand touching the small of my back. Glancing at Ricky and Heather, who looked confused, I silently pleaded for them to keep their mouths shut.

"I'm sorry I didn't introduce her sooner, Mama. We just wanted to make sure it would work before we told anyone," Vinny explained, a hint of unease in his voice.

"How did you two meet?" Mrs. Mauro pressed, her curiosity evident.

"He came by my winery a few weeks ago for a tasting with Kyle. We started talking then and just never stopped," I smoothly replied, sticking to the fabricated story.

"How sweet. You know, Vincenzo used to be such a play—"

"Mum, let me take that from you," Vinny cut her off, stepping forward and taking the box from her. "I will see you at family dinner this weekend." His interruption distracted her from her thoughts and I couldn't be more grateful.

"Of course, baby. Nichole, you must come. I insist. I won't take no for an answer," Mrs. Mauro demanded, her determination clear.

"Mum, I'm sure she has her own plans," Vinny tried to interject.

"Nonsense. She's family now. I'm sure she can arrange her schedule," she insisted. Vinny looked at me for help, but I couldn't come up with a convincing excuse.

"I don't mind," I conceded, realizing that it might be the path of least resistance.

"Wonderful! I will see you both Saturday," Mrs. Mauro declared, bustling out of the house and leaving all of us in stunned silence.

"What the fuck just happened?" Ricky asked, his confusion mirroring my own.

"Well, it seems as if Nichole and Vinny started dating, and we weren't aware," Heather giggled, seemingly entertained by the unexpected turn of events.

"No. I still hate her. But my brother fucked me over, and if I don't do this, my mum will start setting me up on blind dates," Vinny muttered, stepping away from me quickly, making it clear that this was nothing more than a charade to appease his mother. I couldn't help but feel a mixture of surprise, confusion, and a hint of amusement at the absurdity of the events.

"Well, you're in for it now, so you better start playing nice," Ricky teased, adding a touch of humor to the situation. Vinny and I took our places on the couch again, both of us lost in thought about the impending friday dinner.

"Do my eyes deceive me, or is Ricky Olson being nice to my best friend?" Heather snickered, noticing the change in Ricky's demeanor.

"I'm just here to watch her fail," the guitarist shrugged, maintaining a facade of indifference. His girlfriend swatted his chest and scowled, signaling a playful reprimand.

"I only just forgave you. Don't be stupid," Heather scolded Ricky before turning back to us. "You two need to practice before you go on Saturday. You will need to actually look like a couple." Both Vinny and I exchanged glances, our reluctance evident. Neither of us wanted to pretend, but we also didn't have a choice now.

"I'm sure we can fake it well enough," Vinny protested. "Only need to stay together for a little while. Then we can break up and forget about each other."

"You can't do that to Mama Mauro. You'll have to be together for a few months at least. Now cuddle. I want to see how you two look together," Heather insisted, determined to make her point. I knew she was right, but I didn't want to get closer to the drummer than necessary. Glancing at him, he shrugged, equally annoyed. I scooted closer to him, and he reached around me to drop his arm across my shoulders.

"God, you two are so stiff," Richard spoke up, expressing his discomfort with the situation. "I don't like this, but I'm going to help you two out. Look at each other and try to relax." As I sat there, curled awkwardly in the drummer's arms, I glanced up at him to see his hazel eyes staring back down at me. Initially filled with curiosity at the request of the guitarist, his gaze softened to something almost kind as we held eye contact. I felt his arm grow heavy on my shoulder, and surprisingly, I found myself relaxing into his side.

"That's a little better. Now kiss," Richard suggested, adding a touch of mockery to the situation. Our eyes snapped over to him, anger filling my bones as he made light of the entire predicament. 

"Like hell!" I snapped in response to Ricky's suggestion.

"You'll have to eventually. Might as well get the first awkward one out of the way so you are used to it later," Ricky shrugged, seemingly unperturbed by my resistance. I looked back up at the drummer, and although he looked unhappy, both of us knew that he was right. He sighed, leaning down to peck my lips.

"No, stupid. Kiss her properly," Ricky insisted, pushing for a more convincing display. The tension in the room increased as I hesitated, grappling with the discomfort of the situation.

"Make it deep, sweet, soul-stealing," Heather ordered.

"Oh, come on! We will never have to kiss in front of his parents. It's not that big of a deal," I protested, trying to reason with them. However, neither of the others would have it. I glared at them hard until a hand took my chin and turned me to face Vinny.

His lips met mine again in a longer kiss this time, one that truly took my breath away. His lips were soft, and they tasted of movie theater butter from the popcorn we had in front of us. He must have snuck some before we left the kitchen. As his lips moved against mine, we both relaxed further into each other, and his arms found their way around my waist. He pulled me into him for a moment before letting go and pulling away.

"Now that's more like it," Heather declared, seemingly satisfied with the performance. I snapped away from his gaze and looked at my best friend. 

"Are we good?" I asked, breaking the silence that hung in the room.

"I think that's passable," Richard shrugged, offering a smirk. I scoffed and stood up.

"Cool. Enjoy the rest of your movie. Vinny, I guess I'll see you Saturday," I announced, ready to make my exit. I grabbed my jacket and headed toward the door when a hand grabbed my arm, turning me back around. Vinny was standing there, staring down at me, appearing like he wanted to say something.

"Yes?" I prompted.

"I- just- thank you. I'm sorry I dragged you into this," he mumbled, a hint of sincerity in his voice.

"It's whatever. I'll keep up appearances as long as you need me. I should go," I replied, deciding to keep my response casual. I exited the house, dropping into a squatting position on the porch for a few minutes to take a deep breath. I could handle this. It was going to be fine.

[britcision]

Wednesday old friend you are with us again…

It’s not that Tuesday is Posting Day for new chapters, it’s that Tuesday is “oh shit tomorrow is Wednesday and I’m so close” day! Which means I have nice bite sized snacks for you on some Wednesdays 😁

Tag list: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikoyuii @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @eonic @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @arandomturd @viyatrix @stargirl1331

—————

Rumble In The Urban Jungle

“Danger Twink is on the move!” It was Nightwing yelling it into the comms. It had to be, because not a damn one of the rest of them could have got through that sentence without laughing.

Oh, his voice was all joyful glee and Spoiler was soooo mad she left when she did because <<what the fuck is she missing>>, but the message was clear.

Things in the ballroom hit a flashpoint, and for some reason Danny’s doing the shit kicking. She’d wonder what the fuck Jason thought he was doing, since he’d been in arm’s reach of the guy all evening, but.

Yeah. Last she saw, Croc was separating them. Apparently Danny took a little less kindly to that than you’d think.

“Report?” She asked hopefully, half wanting to be called back to the hall. She’d nearly reached Black Bat, but let’s be honest.

Ten, fifteen Riddler minions? Bat could finish them before she even got there.

Red Robin sounded annoyed, as he always did when one of them (usually Damian) jumped the gun on him.

“They were walking Jason Todd towards a bomb vest. His civilian friend took exception to that, and now he’s… Wing what would you call that?”

“If the kid was twice the size I’d call that a classic sumo stance but he’s a fucking twink so it’s never gonna… well fuck me.”

Red Robin picked up the narrative again, now deadpan.

“He’s stopped Killer Croc dead and lifted him off the ground. Might be a butchered judo throw.”

“Need me back in there?” Spoiler pressed, both fingers crossed even as she ran down a hall. She’d only gone down one flight, there was a balcony into the dining hall.

She could make it.

“Negative, Spoiler. Get to Black Bat, Robin make sure that machine can’t be activated. Signal?”

Fucker. She’d make Tim suffer for it once they were all out of costume.

“You’d better fucking record the fight,” she grumbled, even as Signal buzzed in, sounding almost out of breath.

“Would this be a good time to remind you all that Fenton is a meta?” Robin bit out, shades of sarcasm filtering all the way through the falsely conversational tone.

Spoiler damn near tripped as Nightwing cursed.

“Okay fucking what?” That was a little important to be skipped over.

“Shit, yeah, sorry Robin… we didn’t have time to fill you guys in, Robin thinks he saw Fenton teleport. But he’s not teleporting now,” Nightwing added quickly, the frown clear in his voice.

As was Robin rolling his eyes.

“Abnormal strength is one of the most common meta abilities, in case you’d forgotten. Watch closely for the rest of his power set.”

Red Robin cut across them both, voice sharp. New factors always put him on edge.

“Robin saw, or Robin thinks he saw? Can we confirm this?”

Which, ouch, Red Robin might need to check his room for traps for a while.

Spoiler flinched, even through a grin. As much as it sucked for them, it was good fun for her when the Robins squared off. If either ever asked for help, she’d be happy to provide.

“He thought he saw, but the timelines didn’t match up. It was maybe three minutes before we bumped into you, they couldn’t have crossed the hall in time,” Nightwing explained gently, trying to keep the peace.

Robin clearly already had vengeance on his mind.

“I saw them all disappear, Nightwing, it is hardly my fault if the rest of you are incompetent! Black Bat agreed,” he added almost sullenly, and oh Spoiler could see the pout now.

And hear the faintest hint of smugness under the last declaration. Poor kid still had such a hard time accepting anyone believed in him.

Might have helped if he spent less time insisting that he was better than everyone else and they were all beneath him, but hey, League of Assassins training didn’t include humility.

Not for the heir to the Demon Head, anyway. Black Bat managed just fine.

And added in her two cents pretty much immediately, backing Robin up.

“Agreed. May not be strict teleportation, but Fenton has meta abilities of some kind. Shadows?” She asked, and the chat went silent for a moment, clearly waiting on Signal to weigh in.

His sigh was as resigned and tired as could be imagined.

“I’m not going to know until I get a look at him, guys, you know that. Might be cool if he does though, it’d be nice to have another meta on the team,” he added thoughtfully.

Robin tutted, but before he could voice his opinions of that Red Robin butted in again.

“Current circumstances may indicate that Fenton at least isn’t averse to conflict, but that doesn’t mean he’s on the right side. All that can wait for now, do you have an ETA, Signal?” He asked, clearly still typing away in the meantime.

Yeah, keeping the bats on task was a little like herding cats. They’d get the job done (and look good doing it), but keeping the comms cleared of banter was just never gonna happen.

“I’m outside, can’t see anyone at first glance. Want me to lock the place down?” Signal replied, and Spoiler sighed.

Bringing Signal in after dark always felt like cheating. Boy got OP in all of the shadows. Even if there might be someone else playing in them tonight.

Red Robin ignored her comment, still all business.

“Scan for Two Face or any of his crew first, go a block or two over. He may have been planning the initial attack. Can you cover up the damaged windows?

She could hear Signal sucking air through his teeth. A habit they’d all tried to break him of, if only for the truly ratty way it crackled over comms.

“I can up the lights inside, but not if I’m a block away. Priorities?”

“Scan first. Black Bat, Spoiler and Robin, when you’re done assist Signal. We have things handled in here.”

“And I’m recording it for you Spoiler, pinky promise,” Nightwing added gleefully, and she really wanted to kick him. “I left a camera high before joining the fun. Found Riddler yet Little Red?”

“Call me that again, Discowing.”

“Uh, that was a have you found the Riddler, Red Robin?”

“Not yet. It’ll go faster if you all shut up and do your jobs.” Red Robin still sounded actually annoyed rather than having fun, and Spoiler snickered.

“He’s worried his new best friend will be in danger,” she sang into comms, launching herself down a staircase and landing neatly with her knees planted on the shoulders of a running goon.

The burly woman toppled and Spoiler smacked her head off the floor for good measure, pulling out her zip ties.

“Civilians in danger is supposed to worry us, Spoiler,” Red Robin sniped back and she sighed again.

Yeah, okay, he had a bug in his ass. She didn’t want anything bad to happen to anyone either. Riddler must have bought the good encryption today.

“Yessir Red Robin. Shutting up,” she agreed with a one finger salute he’d never see, then continued on.

Missing all the fun just because the boys didn’t want to share. Wasn’t that always the way?

**

Honestly, if it hadn’t been Killer Croc Jason might not have suggested going rogue. Riddler’s guys carried guns, and even without the man himself around any spray would probably catch a hostage.

But Croc was a good guy, as weird as that might seem to say about a rogue. He’d been dealt a crappy hand, and while he wouldn’t shy away from violence on his own account, he had a kind heart.

He’d helped Roy get clean, and curbed Jason’s own more destructive tendencies in the past. Croc kept almost but not quite getting out of the life.

And, as expected, even as the big guy hauled himself to his feet he roared at the tensed goons.

“You lot get the fuckin’ bats, I can handle a scrawny little shit!” Slitted eyes narrowed as he turned to find Danny, who grinned back.

“Y’know, you’d be real surprised how often I hear that,” Danny snarked, shaking out his shoulders.

Jason resisted the urge to laugh, backing carefully away from the pair and the Riddler goons not already disarmed by Nightwing.

He wasn’t allowed to get in on the action in civvies, but he could throw the world’s clumsiest punch if none of his siblings were looking.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

London Will Burn - Chapter Five.

Thank you for your continued interest, my darlings, and happy Friday! :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 3,537

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI.

“Catherine, you are fucking mental. Put it down.” 

“No, we’re playing William Tell. Put the apple on your head, Sean.” 

He staggered, snorting with laughter, moving quickly around the gigantic kitchen island, lifting the bottle to his lips as he raised a middle finger at her. “Fucking put it down, young lady.” 

“Nope,” she chirped, “shan’t do it! Trust me, I’m a mean shot.” Once again, the arrow was aimed.  

“You’re also half pissed and squinting,” he tried to reason as he walked backwards into the corridor, holding out his hands. “Seriously, put it down.”  

He might have been laughing, but a tiny piece of him was steeped in trepidation, being stalked by a slightly drunken young woman holding a bow, loaded with a very real, very sharp arrow. One miss and he’d go the same way as King Harold II at the Battle of Hastings. “Rin, stop. Look, I’m standing in front of priceless artwork. You can’t, or you’ll hit the Bellini!”  

“How did you even know that was Bellini?” 

“Because I attended a fucking good school and paid attention. Now seriously, put that down!” 

He breathed a sigh of relief when finally, the bow was lowered, Rin placing it as well as the arrow onto the table beside her, snorting with laughter. “Your face was a fucking picture, I swear!”  

What was meant to be a simple viewing of her father’s collection of antique weaponry had descended into full blown, drunken shenanigans, Sean finding himself and the bottle of vodka he grasped chased through the house, around the kitchen a couple of times, an apple thrown in his direction along with the suggestion of playing William Tell.  

There was no way he’d have placed it upon his head. Not with what he’d seen her drink so far that evening. Still though, it had been an adrenaline pump, he supposed. In Sean’s world, he rarely made room for fun. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been drunk, probably at some point with his dad and brother, although goodness knows when that actually was.  

He’d spent the years since his wild time at university making work his number one priority; but there within the walls of Mulford Hall, it felt good to take a weekend off from life, let off a little steam. In more ways than one. 

To put it bluntly, he’d never had so much sex in such a short space of time in all of his life. He’d been there for twenty-five hours, slept for seven of them and the rest? Pretty much exclusively sexual between long bouts of talking. Very long, very detailed bouts of talking, about a life that truly, only the other really understood. 

“It isn’t normal, it really fucking isn’t,” she began, sitting beside him on one of the very large, very plush outdoor sofas, fingers idly stroking his inner forearm as she reached for her vodka and grapefruit juice. Sean was drinking his over ice, after stating he’d rather eat nettles than have anything relating to grapefruit near his mouth. “I mean, people can throw out the threat of ‘I’ll fucking kill you’ if angered enough, but they don’t mean it. We say it, and we bloody mean it.” 

“We do,” he agreed, resting his head back, reaching to place a hand upon her bare knee. “Truthfully, we wouldn’t even need to go that far. We can simply have somebody else do it for us.”  

“No, no but really, really,” she stated emphatically, grasping his arm and shaking it with wide eyes.  

He returned the gesture. “What? What?” 

“Piss taker!” 

He snorted softly. “Sarcastic piss taker, I’ll have you know.” 

“That too!” She smiled, shaking her head, her fingers going back to touring his inner arm, tracing lines from freckle to freckle. “Oh blimey. I’ve forgotten what I was going to say.” They both began to laugh softly. “That’s your fault, you knob.” 

“Guilty as charged,” he spoke, placing his drink back down.  

She remained thoughtful for a few moments before her synapses fired, her eyes widening again. “Yes, I’ve remembered! It’s like, this girl in my year at sixth form threatened to beat me up because I’d made the alleged mistake of giving my number to this lad who she was after, because fancying someone equals they’re yours already in her eyes, apparently. Apart from it all being so fucking childish, I just thought to myself, “I could stab you and have your body thrown in a vat of acid, and nobody would ever know.” And I really, really could! It’s half the reason dad bought that chemical plant over by Walthamstow. If you fuck with him, that’s where you end up.” 

That particular revelation sent a shiver right through Sean, a remembrance of Kevin’s favourite method of dispatch. He’d even heard that sometimes, his adversaries had still been alive when they’d taken their acid bath. Pulling his thoughts back, he focused again on her, Rin continuing. 

“No one would ever know, as I say, and that’s not normal, is it? And the others around me all the way through school, they’ve never even known just how close they’ve been to the kind of danger that’s just fucking regular life for us! For us, it’s entirely normal! Sorry, I know I’m rambling on.” 

His hand squeezed upon her knee, Sean crunching an ice cube between his back teeth with a loud crack. “No, no. You’re fine. I remember looking at other students in my class and thinking how they didn’t have the slightest clue either, how far removed their existences were from mine. They all led these safe, mundane little lives, and often I’d find myself wondering what mine would be like if it had matched theirs. Would it even fit, though, I sometimes pondered.” 

Her nails left his arm momentarily to comb through her hair, returning after she’d pushed it away from her face. “It would be like attempting to wear shoes upon the wrong feet. Not a good fit, because they weren’t made and moulded for them.” 

His eyebrows raised a fraction. “That’s a damned accurate analogy, Rin.”  

“It’s how I’ve always felt at even considering walking into any other life than the one I was born into. You hear about it, don’t you, all these people saying criminals such as us have a choice, but we don’t. I wouldn’t know how to act outside of the life I’ve always lived, even though I suppose that’s somewhat of a cop out, my age considered. I can’t say though, for example, if somebody irritated me enough that I wouldn’t hurt them egregiously for it, if I did walk away from the life. That isn’t really walking away though, to take that kind of mindset along.” 

He reached for her, thumb skimming her cupid’s bow. “No, because it’s the only one you know.” The wicked world they lived in, Sean got it. He knew it, breathed it, was bred for it. Just like her. The only person she’d ever been involved with in the past who’d understood was Kel, her first boyfriend, the son of a mutual associate of her father and Sean’s, their relationship lasting for just over a year before she’d moved on. Sean had been correct when he’d branded him a prick. He was. 

“It’ll only become greater too, the further we both rise. One day, we shall both sit at the head of two powerful criminal families, and then life will change exponentially even more. I sometimes wonder already who the hell I am at times, and I’ll wonder even more then. Do your thoughts ever wander there?”  

She watched him, seeming to coil into himself a little more, crossing one arm over his chest to rest it on his shoulder, eyes flitting uncomfortably. Being vulnerable with someone did not come easily to him. “What, how I will be moulded into an image even further removed just to survive a life that seats me upon a throne made of heavy artillery and blocks of heroin? All the time.��� 

He laughed quietly at the comic face of trepidation she pulled in response to his statement, leaning to rest his head on her shoulder. “I’ve never met anyone who gets it like you do.”  

“Yeah,” she confirmed, turning to stroke his face. “Same.”  

As they fell into kisses, his head swimming a little from the five very large drinks he’d already had (not being much of a vodka fan, but that was all Rin had) his brain began to scream at him once again. “Delete the fucking video. Find another source to wash the cash through. It doesn’t have to be that building, and it doesn’t have to be her who gets hurt.” 

But if it wasn’t, his father would be enraged. He would lose the approval he felt he was finally beginning to earn from him. Before it could gnaw at him too much, he recovered himself, hardening again as he sat up. He truly couldn’t deviate, and he supposed he really should think about leaving... 

Reaching for his vodka glass, the reason why he couldn’t was brought to his lips and sunk in its entirety. He was about four times over the legal limit at that point and very much stuck exactly where he was.  

“It scares me too, you know.” Reaching for him, she rested her hand to his shoulder, squeezing the muscle softly. “Our father’s shadows offer the kind of safe shade we will be stripped of one day.”  

He shrugged her hand away lightly. “I’m not scared of a single fucking thing.” Damn her and the accuracy of her analogies, how astute she was, how such a wise head sat upon her shoulders. She was only eighteen, and already so much more emotionally steady than he. Also, Rin seemed to accept her eventuality in life much more willingly than he did. She was ready, poised for it. Him? He still felt like he had to prove himself within the proverbial shark tank his father was dangling him over. 

“Liar.”  

He turned with a frown, but Rin could see it was as fake as the very statement he’d made about not being afraid. He opened his mouth, hesitating for a second, studying her. She saw right through him, saw right into him. It was unnerving. At last, though. He’d found someone who did. “You were right, you know. You are a gobby little twat.”  

Merely grinning, she picked up their glasses as she stood. “Time for a refill.” Sauntering back across the patio area, she heard him follow. While slicing the pink grapefruit that accompanied her drink, she felt his arms slide around her, the sublimity of his mouth meeting her neck a second later. 

“I haven’t been balls deep in your for at least three or more hours,” he began, teeth nipping at her earlobe as she refilled the glasses before her. “I feel this should be rectified.”  

She was a little cock sore from the unfettered railing she’d received already that day from him, as well as what had been enjoyed the evening before, but as Rin placed the knife down on the large chopping board to her side, she could not resist the promise of having Sean inside her again.  

Rather than agreeing right away, though, she kept him waiting, letting him burn while scooping up the bits of grapefruit rind and carrying them to the bin, Sean melding himself to her. She was hampered by him, giggling at his refusal to cease, but didn’t give in while wiping the counter down and moving the drinks across the island out of the way, rinsing her hands in the nearby sink as his delved into her pants.  

“Don’t leave me waiting on this, darling,” he groaned, fingers sinking into her folds, his other hand emerging to grasp one of her tits. “I want to feel you around me, watch you dripping all over my dick, hear those beautiful little moans as I’m fucking you.”  

His words shook her, any tentative resolve crumbling, his desire acting like quick erosion upon her as she turned, meeting his mouth with heat and need. He lifted her to the island, slotting himself between her thighs while removing the huge t shirt she’d been wearing, hands kneading her bare breasts, descending hungrily. 

“Are you particularly fond of these undies?” he panted, grasping the pink lace in a tight grip. 

“Not especially.” They were only a Victoria’s Secret multipack pair; if he tore them from her, they wouldn’t especially be missed. What he did, though. God. She wasn’t expecting him to pick up the knife to her side, push the blade beneath the waistband and literally cut them from her, stabbing the knife back down onto the chopping board before plunging two fingers into her slick.  

White heat streaked through her, yearning for him, yanking his t shirt over his head as he kicked off his jeans. The heat of his cock radiated against her inner thigh, fingers burrowed in her deep. As usual, even mere kisses had left her soaking, Sean moaning against her tongue as he grasped his cock and stroked it through her glistening folds. 

The gasp that fell from her mouth as he rucked into her hard made his skin prickle, his heart skipping on a beat as he stared at her with intense focus, his hand coming to cup her cheek. Her eyes pulled him into a vortex of emotions he didn’t truly know how to deal with, stirring, yanking him under. It would feel uncomfortable if it didn’t feel so right, but that was a notion that didn’t sit well with him either, closing his eyes and pressing his mouth to the junction of her neck. 

Burying himself in the hot clutch of her cunt again and again, it was urgency unmatched, fast, hot and wild as they clutched and grasped at each other. The heat of it burned beneath her skin, the grind of his body tight against her clit making pleasure fall through her like a shooting star, holding his face in her hands and kissing him, all honey and sin, her nails then once again adding to the brandings of lust already present on his back.   

He felt immense, so heavy within her tender walls, cock scraping sparks through her, spearing her hard, watching her face contort with the ecstasy from taking the storm that was his fuck inside her. His arm tightened around the narrow of her waist, lifting her from the island, her thighs squeezing around him as she held on around his neck, a shocked exclamation filling the air when he used his free hand to begin spanking her arse with hard, unrelenting slaps.  

“I could bounce you on my fucking dick all day long and you’d still crave more, wouldn’t you? Mmm, yes. Such a fuck hungry, dirty girl.”  

“Mmm,” she purred, running her tongue up his cheek. “Guilty as charged, and you wouldn’t have me any other way, would you?” 

His hand pounded her bum again before turning, shunting her straight into the massive, brushed steel fridge door. “Absolutely fucking not. You are complete sexual perfection.” 

Complete sexual perfection was exactly what he gave her, fucking her so hard every single bottle within the fridge door rattled as her body pounded against it, crying out as she felt his cock throb and swell within her. Little strikes of light illuminated her walls, fluttering around him madly as he came, her tide crashing against his shore as she came with a feral shriek.  

“Oh god,” she panted, still clutching his shoulders for dear life. “You are such a fucking beast!” 

“Mm.” 

She frowned curiously, lifting his chin. “Are you alright?” 

He smiled, laughing softly through his nose. “Cunt drunk.” 

Her giggles filled the kitchen, drowning out his deep, blissed-out hum. “Well, you did say you wouldn’t settle for anything less than delirium.” 

“Mm.” 

Oh, how hard his orgasm had crashed through him, unable to speak, his heart still hammering strongly while he enjoyed the little slick flutters of her walls around his cock. God, she was truly incredible. He eventually regained the power of speech, his brain engaging again, placing her down onto wobbly legs.  

“Steady there, darling.” 

“Fuck, you’ve wrecked me,” she exclaimed, picking up her underwear off the floor with snort, placing them into the bin. “I need food and a lie down, in that order.” Forty minutes later, and with a plethora of Chinese delights laid out on trays between them, they sat in the large cinema room on the top level of the house, watching Rin’s Goodfellas, favourite film. It happened to be one of his, too.  

“Would you?” she began, dunking a spring roll into a pot of sweet chili sauce while pointing at the screen.  

“Would I what, grass on my associates to secure more leniency for my own punishment?” She nodded, Sean taking a few moments to consider the question while chewing through a mouthful of salt and pepper squid. “It would depend on how much I liked the associates.” 

“What if you were sworn not to, like the mafioso guys?” 

He shrugged, reaching for the bowl of rice. “I’m very much a fan of self-preservation, but equally I do not relish in the idea of being known as a grass. How about you?” 

“Simple,” she began, licking sauce from the corner of her mouth, “I wouldn’t get caught in the first place.”  

Her statement was either incredibly arrogant, or very naive, he couldn’t help but think. Before he could take it too seriously, she began to laugh softly, nudging him with a soft elbow. “In truth, I don’t think I’d know, you know, until I was in that situation. If it meant fucking over someone I was fond of, then I doubt I’d do it. I know what it means to be loyal.” 

An uncomfortable sting stabbed his insides, knowing what still existed on his phone, realising that he was still on course to do that very thing. In just a day, he’d become fond of her, a girl he was ultimately going to fuck over. Or at least threaten with such.  

Was this really the price he’d pay to gain the funds, as well as his father’s approval? Wielding power over those directly involved in business by nefarious means was one thing, but involving someone only on the fringes of it truly was another. She’d spoken about the absence of choice to him before, and in this instance, he did have one. He either had to hurt her or himself in whatever he chose.  

After they’d finished eating, there was still plenty of the long film yet to view, Rin grabbing one of the blankets from the back of the large sofa they were sitting on, swathing herself in it. He followed suit.  

“Does it always get so cold up here?” he asked, fully bundled in buttery soft fleece.  

She shuddered right on cue. “It does, yeah. There’s someone coming out to look at the heating as it isn’t pushing through from the boiler properly, meaning the top floor is like a fucking fridge, even now it’s getting a little warmer.” He perished to think just what the heating bill was in winter, heating a house so vast.  

He watched her continue to dither, opening the blanket he was wrapped in. “Come on. Get in.” She moved to curl against him, both warming quickly for one another’s body heat beneath the nest of blankets, continuing to watch the film.  

On any other Saturday, he’d either be home with his family, or out with his father, Ed and Alex, whether socially or for business. Not sitting in one of the most exclusive restaurants in London and instead, doing something low key away from the polarised world of either his family or work, it was very different for him. Maybe, different could be good. Probably, when he thought on the reality of it, it wouldn’t be.  

After the film had ended, they stayed up there talking, bundled in the blankets as they shared much about themselves. Sean found himself talking of events and opinions he didn’t even tell those closest to him, like his brother or Alex. With Rin, he felt something that so seldom happened for him. He felt heard. She understood him on a level few others did, and what’s more, did not judge him for it, or make expectations. She just listened. 

It was a valuable commodity in a person. 

“Ugh, I have that terrible internal juxtapose,” she spoke as they climbed down a floor at just gone midnight. “I’m both sleepy and horny.”  

She tried to stifle the large yawn, Sean laughing softly. “If you want to sleep then don’t worry, I’m sure your horny shan’t be gone in the morning, and neither will I.”  

After washing and brushing her teeth, Rin left the bathroom for him to use, feeling his weight dip the mattress behind her a few minutes after. He remained on the left of the bed for a while, but shortly before sleep pulled her into its embrace, so did he.  

They remained entwined all night long.  

[sunhatllama]

what are you willing to sacrifice for peace? (Part 2)

a Resident Evil fanfiction

For @aussiepineapple1st

Rating: M

Contains: blood, strong language, description of injuries, gore (?)

Tags: pre-relationship chreon, post-vendetta, major character injury

Word Count: 2,069

Part 2/7 Part 1 <- Previous | Next ->

The hospital phone dialed, the tone going once, twice, before his sister's slightly staticky voice came through. "Hello?"

"Hey, Claire. It's me," Chris said wistfully, giving the floor a grim smile. It was nice to hear her voice, despite the circumstances; he last called her weeks ago.

Her tone immediately became worried. "Chris? What happened?" 

Chris nearly laughed. She knew him so well. "I—" his voice cut off, throat closing up. "It's Leon. He's in the hospital—"

"Oh God, is he okay? Where are you?"

"New York City." He swallowed.

"I'll be there fast as I can, Chris."

"He's in bad shape, Claire… we've been here for three hours now and they haven't told us anything." Images of Leon, bloodied, pale, and so still flew to the front of his mind and he shook his head, exhaling roughly. He was alive. He had to be.

"Leon's strong…he’ll get through this. He always does."

Chris nodded, not quite believing her words. Leon wasn’t invincible, no matter how many times he had survived the impossible. What if the man didn’t bounce back from this? What if this was the final nail in the coffin? 

"You're right,” he said, placating her. Nothing about this was right. “I—let me know when you get into the city, I'll send you the address."

"Alright. Don't get too caught up in your head. I know how you get."

He shook his head, sighing. A little too late for that. "I'll try not to."

They said their goodbyes and Chris hung up the phone with a click of the receiver. He heaved a heavy exhale, rubbing his eye sockets with the palms of his hands. 

Three hours. That's how long he and Rebecca had been waiting, and still nothing. DC took Nadia with him to a hotel after her injury was treated; luckily there was minimal damage and it didn’t cut any major arteries. The doctors said she was lucky. He was glad she was okay.

Chris had forgotten about Claire completely until Rebecca reminded him, and then he realized his phone was destroyed in the fight so he had to use the hospital phone. He was sure he scared the poor secretary—with his bruised and battered face and towering frame. Someone from the BSAA had come by with some spare clothes for them, which he greatly appreciated, so at least he wasn't in his bloodied tactical gear. Instead, he was wearing a plain T-shirt and blue jeans. Despite having changed and washed up, the cold chill of Leon’s cooling blood on his arms never quite went away, giving him goosebumps. He swallowed. Chris wondered if it would ever truly dissipate.

Rebecca was sitting where he left her in the waiting room and he sat down in the cushioned chair next to hers. She wasn't in that wedding dress anymore, wearing clothes similar to his, but she had a pair of sweatpants as opposed to jeans. They were a little big on her, but she didn't complain. He was sure that dress was uncomfortable, especially given the…circumstances surrounding that particular garment.

God. He was the one to get both Rebecca and Leon involved in this. It was his vendetta that nearly got them killed. He didn't even know if Leon was alive or dead at this point. He swallowed again, thickly, beating back the panic that had been an ever-present weight on his chest since Leon collapsed in his arms. In his anger, he got Rebecca kidnapped, Leon and Nadia in the hospital, and Damien killed . God. He almost forgot about Damien in his panic. Damien might not have been a close friend, but he was a good soldier and an even better man. He didn't deserve to die.

Everyone around him always ended up dying. Chris was beginning to think he was a curse on the people around him—everyone teamed with him was doomed to die. His STARS team, his team in Edonia, and his one later in China. Piers. Finn. And now Damien too. How many people he cared about were going to die before this war stopped? His eyes burned with unshed tears. He could have lost both Leon and Rebecca today. Two of the most important people in his life. Some of his oldest and most trusted friends. 

And Leon. Fuck. It had hurt to see Leon wasting away in that bar, uncaring to the battle at hand. It reminded Chris too much of himself after he woke up from the hospital without his memory. Lost . Chris had been lost. And Leon was heading down the same path he had, losing himself to the unending war and bloodshed and overwhelming loss.

~o~

It was another hour later when Chris heard a door open and he snapped to attention. A brunette nurse with a clipboard walked into the waiting room, scanning the space before landing on Chris and Rebecca. His heart fluttered when she stepped towards them and he stood up, willing his legs to stand steady. 

“For Mr. Kennedy?” the nurse questioned.

“Yes—is he—”

“He is stable, out of surgery, and currently in the ICU.” Chris let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding—Leon was alive , but in intensive care. “We’re keeping him in an induced coma until his body can handle movement, but he is expected to recover.” She smiled. “Follow me.” 

Chris sent a nervous look towards Rebecca and she gave him a small smile of encouragement, which he appreciated, some of his anxiety ebbing. Alive . He was alive.

They came upon the room, the name ‘Leon Kennedy’ scrawled on a piece of paper and slotted into the door label. Chris mentally added the ‘S’ to the name, knowing the man appreciated the distinction. Leon had never told him why, but he assumed he shared the same name as his father. The nurse opened the door with a click and stepped in, Chris and Rebecca following close behind.

Chris’ gaze found Leon immediately and he froze. Leon’s skin was pale, face slack and unmoving, a splotchy bruise painting the right side of his face. His dark hair laid limp against the off-white pillow underneath him, the bright bedding only making him appear more sickly. The man was intubated, the tube secured to his face as it pushed oxygen to his lungs. Various monitors were hooked up to his left arm, an IV providing both saline and blood, his right arm immobilized in a cast and hung in a sling. Chris stared at the wrongness of the image in front of him, stomach churning and he swallowed back acrid bile, tears turning his vision glassy.

Rebecca came to his side, and that’s when he noticed he had moved closer to the bed, his knees nearly touching the railing without realizing. “...when is he going to wake up?” she asked, turning to the nurse.

The nurse gave them a soft look. “We expect to be able to wean him from the sedatives in about a week. As long as no complications occur, he should make a full recovery. His liver was severely damaged, causing the hemorrhaging, but our surgeons stopped the bleed before he lost too much blood.”

Chris looked at her, wide-eyed. His liver? 

“The organ is expected to have no lasting damage,” she said, obviously seeing his concerned expression, “but he is going to have to be careful with alcohol consumption for a while. Probably a year or so.” 

Chris sighed, relieved, but also knew that keeping Leon away from alcohol was going to be a challenge. The man usually didn’t follow the advice given to him by medical professionals. Was he even going to let Chris help him? He knew Leon was independent, preferring to not depend on others, but after this—God. He was going to need help. And as long as Leon was okay with it, Chris was going to be by his side as often as he needed.

“In terms of other injuries, the fracture in his arm has been taken care of with no nerve damage, thankfully. He has two broken ribs, three cracked, and substantial bruising to the rest of his body.”

Chris looked back down to Leon’s limp body, hearing the audible whoosh of air being pushed into the man’s lungs, seeing the bandages wrapped around almost every inch of visible skin, the blanket only coming up to his sternum and exposing his shoulders and neck. Purples and yellows peeked through the gaps in gauze and they made Chris feel sick. If he lifted the thin covering, he was sure he would find even more bruises and bandages and stitches and wires and—

“Can—” he said, throat closing up, hands shaking. “Can I have a moment alone?”

Rebecca laid a hand on his shoulder before nodding. “I’ll pick you up later tonight.”

Chris gave her hand a squeeze and she turned away, the nurse following behind, telling him she would be back in an hour and he acknowledged her, sighing heavily.

~o~

“Chris. This isn’t your fault. Leon made the choice to help you,” Claire said, leaning forward in her chair. 

“I yelled at him while he was mourning . He was in a bad mental state and I got angry with him.”

“Yes—and he still followed you to battle. He cares about you more than you think.”

Chris didn’t say anything, taking a breath and looking away. Leon followed him and almost died. Just like everyone else that followed Chris. He grimaced.

Claire had arrived at the hospital two days after he called her, and Leon wasn’t any better or worse. Chris supposed he should be glad, but all he could feel was a hollow, aching, weight on his chest. Leon should be up and telling them silly one-liners and swearing at Chris for his stupidity, not on death’s door. His sister was calming his nerves, and Rebecca visited at least twice a day, but sitting and being able to do nothing to help Leon was agony. He contemplated helping the rest of the BSAA with cleanup but the thought of leaving Leon’s side was too painful to consider, despite knowing he wasn’t supposed to wake up for at least a few more days.

“I think you should tell him.”

No… He couldn’t. Chris couldn’t jeopardize their friendship like that. Not for his own selfish wants. “I…can’t.”

Claire gave a deep sigh slowly, a hint of exasperation audible. “Why’re you so sure he’ll reject you?”

Chris furrowed his eyebrows, the bags under his eyes aching. He thought it was pretty obvious. “First of all, I’m pretty sure he isn’t into guys.”

Claire raised an eyebrow before scoffing. “And what gave you that impression?” Chris was confused now and sent her a bewildered look, in which she replied with another sigh, this time more frustrated. “I know for a fact that he has been with guys before. Maybe you should actually talk to him about it instead of assuming.”

Chris opened his mouth before shutting it with an audible click. She had a point, but part of Chris still felt uneasy about telling Leon. Didn’t he have something with Ada Wong? He couldn’t remember if it was anything more than respect for each other. “But—”

“Nope. No buts. You have been avoiding this for too long, Chris. You need to tell him.” She looked down at Leon’s still-unconscious body in between the two of them, her eyes softening. “You both have dangerous jobs, and you’re not getting any younger.”

“You calling me old?” He sent her a small teasing smile that didn’t fully reach his eyes.

Claire laughed. “I can’t very well let my poor older brother sentence himself to a life of loneliness for no reason.” She then shifted in her chair, expression turning serious as silence spread between them. “...Leon brings out the best in you. I’ve seen it—the way you light up when you’re with him. You look happiest when he’s nearby.”

God. Just being near the man sent butterflies fluttering in his gut, his heart aching with the need to hold him close, to kiss him passionately until they were both out of breath.

“I—” he paused, swallowing. “I think I’m in love with him, Claire.”

Claire’s expression changed, shifting warmer, and she leaned back in her chair, sighing. “Then tell him, Chris. Don’t keep doing this to yourself.”

“What if he doesn’t feel the same?” “Then…at least you’ll know,” she replied. | Next -> |

[villainessxassassin]

Hello! May i request romantic separate headcanons with Savannaclaw along with GN!S/O? S/O is competitive with him in PE class and loves to give him a bet. Thanks~

Savanaclaw x reader

seperate! Leona, Ruggie and Jack x gn!competitive! s/o

Not me just realizing it was supposed to be a headcannon but ended up making a scenario instead. pls forgive my foolishness anon💀

____

What's that you say? a challengr? Well how could he ever begin to refuse such a request, especially when it came from you.

Zzz... Huh? grass? He could've sworn he was taking a nap somewhere much more hidden than somewhere out in the open like this.

Oh yeah that's right, it was already PE period and—

"Could you stop touching my tail as if it was some simple stuffed toy you'd like to play with?"

Leona was getting irked at the fact he'll have to go running circles out in the field with YOU pulling at his tail like a game of tug and war to redirect him to the starting point.

Others saw this interaction as odd, but to you it was in your own way an act of showing affection for the dorm head.

You knew he wasn't going to let you off that easily so you took it upon yourself to come up with a bet, in hopes of having the privilege to touch his soft mane and tail without the worry of being reprimanded by it.

"Which ever one of us wins, has the winning rights to do just about anything to the loser, and we can't do anything about it."

"You'd think I'd accept such a flimsy bet just like that? How foolish."

"Oh, has the little kitten retracted it's claws and tucked it's tail between it's legs before it can pounce? Perhaps I was expecting too much of you—"

"..."

Oh would you look at that, he was already sprinting miles around the field in a blink of an eye.

But lucky for him, you weren't one to let down on a challenge yourself

So throughout the whole afternoon, you'd had already forgotten about the bet and were now playing a game of cat and mouse. oh well.

Atleast you got to spend some time with him, even when you were wheezing and laughing hysterically as he was getting closer and closer to catching you.

"I win!"

"This wasn't part of the bet!"

The sky was clear, birds were chirping, and a runaway hyena took off with your lunch—

Wait what?

Oh yes, you were currently chasing after Ruggie as it seems he's scarfed down the last bit of what was supposed to be your last meal before PE.

You lost ruggie when he took a corner and only then saw him again at PE class.

Since you were already still full of adrenaline from the previous chase, you wanted revenge for what could have been a delectable meal down your throat, if your oh so mischievous boyfriend hadn't taken the first and last bite.

You were always very competitive, so this bet really did just boost your ego.

"Loser has to pay for the winner's meal for the whole week."

"shishishi, you're really prepared to burn through your wallet just for this? Why I should be honored then~"

"It's going to be your butt that's going to be scraping every crevice of this school in search for even a single thaumark to pay for what I'll be eating for the next seven days.

A game of tag seemed simple enough.

Only problem is everyone has already been tagged and only you and Ruggie seems to be what's left.

The taggers were panting with wobbly legs whenever one tried to approach you as you'd had already dodge their moves.

What's cute is how despite the both of you wanting to win, you'd still have the other's back whenever a tagger came a little too close, pulling the other away from their direction.

and sticking by each other ti'll the end of the round.

"It's pointless. Neither of us want's to loose so why don't we just call it even and-

"YOU'RE STILL PAYING ME FOR EATING MY LUNCH YOU #$&!"

You were always one to be competitive whenever you found something worth putting attention into.

So once you saw your boyfriend Jack out on the field running you couldn't help but want to join in.

but of course a little competitive race couldn't hurt, right?

"Must everything be a competition with you? I'm more focused on my technique right now more on than my speed."

"But you're still running laps aren't you? What's a little competition with me going to do with your already well defined build hm?

"T-tch if you really insist than so be it, but dont come crying to me once I beat you."

And just like that your little race has begun, tho it ended soon before it even started when you sprinted off and caught your foot on a small root growing out of the ground.

Jack was instantly by your side as you tried to brush him off saying you were fine, but were you really? hell no, you knew you twisted your ankle right when you fell to the ground.

And that thing hurt like a beach🙂🏖️

So jack had one of your arms over his shoulder as he helped you to the infirmary

You felt sad that you couldn't spend more time with your boyfriend out in the field, but atleast you could see small tints of red adorning his face once you thanked him for his help.

"Don't worry about me. I'll have this thing fully healed by tomorrow and we can continue on with our little race."

"I-"

(Yeah he told the staff in the infirmary to be keeping a close eye on you.)

____

apologies if i wasn't able to apply the word "competitive" enough hehe

[fayesdiary]

WiP Wednesday

Got tagged by @danganronpa-21 for this! It got me to write a whole chapter after months, so thank you :D

This chapter is part of my Veyle rebuilds Gradlon story. Originally it was meant to just be a scene, but then... I got carried away😅

It also contains some big but hopefully vague enough to @bluescreenl 's fic Defective, you should really check it out!

Speaking of, I tag them, @good-beans and @felikatze to do this if you want to :D

Veyle remembered Timerra once explained to her how Solmic funerals worked, which as was typical for the queendom, was vastly different from how the rest of Elyos did things.

Rather than burying the dead in somber farewells like she was used to see, most residents of Solm choose to burn them instead, the huge bonfire used for the creation serving as a backdrop for a party in their name, as their cinders scattered to the wind.

"It's to make sure their spirit is set free." Timerra continued. "You can't go on whatever journey's up next having to carry that old body around, after all!"

"Oh! So the reason there weren't that many Corrupted in Solm was…"

"Yup! Can't have a lot of undead trapped in their old bodies and forced to do Sombron's bidding if there's no body to corrupt to begin with! It wasn't the reason we cremate the dead to begin with, but it sure has been helpful, don't you think?"

"But… why the party, then? Aren't you sad that your loved ones have died?"

"Well duh, of course we're going to miss them. But I'd rather remember someone close to me remembering what they loved instead of just getting sad about it, you know? They're just going in the afterlife or whatever is up next before me, but it's not like I'm never going to see them again." Then, realizing something, Timerra added. "So you'd better not be all mopey at my funeral! I want my friend to have a great time and not be miserable because I went up ahead!"

…Oh. That's right. Veyle was going to outlive Timerra by a lot, no matter what. Like all of her friends.

" I… I'll try. Thank you, Timerra." Veyle replied, with a sad smile.

As she, her siblings and the Winds set foot in the dark halls of Gradlon Temple once more, Veyle thinked Timerra might have been more right than she realized.

Compared to the last time they were here, the place was eerily quiet without the sounds of fighting, the grunts of the Corrupted and Corrupted Lumera's insults at everyone who would dare take her away from her beloved child. Most of which were directed at Veyle herself.

And yet, Veyle could have sworn to have heard whispers from the moment they entered, as long as seeing some indistinct figures.

The same figures Veyle vaguely remembers seeing sleeping in the halls back when she still lived here.

It took her some centuries after leaving to realize they weren't sleeping at all.

She hates that she can't recall her siblings' names and faces. One of the most common things she heard people say is that the dead aren't truly gone as long as they're remembered, and yet here they are, restless and forgotten by everyone, including her own family.

Veyle, too young to have even known them.

Alear, who forgot everything about their past.

Nel and Rafal, who not only are from another Elyos so they never knew them, they had to forget that the people they were forced to fight to the death.

"No matter the world, this place will always be a cesspool like no other." Rafal said.

"Veyle, if I may? There is something I want to check."

"Of course. Lead the way."

It was weird how the temple was somehow more unsettling without any Corrupted hunting them down.

They entered a medium-sized room with a series of castle beds, who all looked worn down and resembling slabs of stone more than a place to sleep. From her time wandering the world Veyle learned to make due sleeping anywhere vaguely comfortable..but even she had absolutely no intention to try those. Right away, Rafal began looking under the beds, searching for something.

“Why did you two want to come this room?”

Nel took a deep breath.

“This was where our room was, back in our world.”

Veyle’s eyes widened.

“You don’t think… there was a version of you two here too?”

“It’s a possibility. The Alear from the past looked shock to see Rafal and I, and this world’s Sombron seemed to recognize me.”

“I knew it.”

Everyone turned to look at Rafal, who had moved one of the beds while they were talking, revealing a small hidden crawlspace beneath it.

“What is that?” Veyle asked

“My secret sweet stash. I used to hide the sweets I gathered in our missions here, away from any greedy hands… as well as Father’s eyes”. Rafal muttered. Veyle could have sworn he shuddered for a moment.

“I always wondered where the sweets you shared with Nil and I came from. Now I finally know.” Nel chuckled much to her brother’s chagrin.

“Regardless, this proves your theory right, sister. But I have no doubt in my mind our selves in this Elyos have long been nothing but dust.”

Nel closed her eyes. “I see.”

“Are you two alright?” Veyle asked, worried about her older siblings.

"Yes. This just proved our suspicion, nothing more."

"..the us in this world must be nothing but dust now. Not like it ever mattered beyond our selfish want for closure."

"Rafal…"

Veyle couldn't help but wonder what the two were thinking about. Whenever the Winds talked about her late self from the other world, she always felt a strange pit in her stomach. Maybe Rafal and Nel felt the same.

"Enough feeling nostalgic. It's not as if this place holds any good memories anyway. Let's just do what we must."

"Right." Veyle nodded. She had everyone come here for a reason, after all.

"Zelestia? Could you give everyone their crystals, please?"

"Certainly." Zelestia took a handful of strange crystals out of her bag and started handing them over to everyone.

"Lady Veyle already mentioned this before we departed, but be very careful with those crystals. To give them that much destructive power we had to make them extremely volatile. That is to say, any hit or fall could set them off and if that happens…" Zelestia made the sound of an explosion while stretching her arms out to prove her point. Gregory gulped nervously in response.

"Make sure to place them at an appropriate distance between each other so that they'll all activate in a chain reaction. Once you're done, return to the throne room. …I want to make sure you all evacuate before I proceed."

"Are you going to be alright?" Nel asked, worried.

"Yes. The spell will take a little while to activate, and I can run pretty fast when I want to." Veyle responded.

"Everyone, we'll meet at the Throne Room. If you find any Corrupted or other threats, alert everyone. And again please be careful with the crystals! ..sorry I couldn't make them safer. I'm not as good at magic crafting as I should yet and Zelestia could only help so much. And no, the ghosts aren't threats."

And with that, everyone split into groups.

Veyle was about to leave to place her crystals in her designated area when…

Veyle…

"Huh?" She turned around to see two ethereal figures and yet more vivid than all the other ghosts, even if their faces were still unclear. They merely turned to point at a nearby room.

"Yes. I'll go check it out before we leave." She nodded before heading there.

She couldn't turn a request from her late siblings, after all.

"Good, you're all here." Veyle said after reuniting with everyone else at the throne room.

"Veyle? Where did you get those?" Nel asked. Her sister was holding a bag of seeds in her left hand and a sword on her right.

"I found them in one of the bedrooms. …our siblings wanted me to take these with us before we free them from this place." Veyle muttered. Everyone fell silent.

"Mauvier, I'm entrusting these to you. We are going to bring them home."

"Yes, Lady Veyle."

"Thank you. Now, I am going to cast the spell. Everyone, you need to evacuate from here."

"Just be careful, sister."

Veyle nodded before watching everyone head out of the temple.

Once she was sure to be the only alive presence left, she turned her gaze towards the throne where Papa once stood.

She knew what she had to do. But she'd be lying to herself that burning another place to the ground after her other self did so to the port town in Firene didn't make her shiver.

Then she shook her head.

"No. This is different." 

The port was a place of innocents. This temple was a monument to all of Papa's - No, Sombron's - atrocities, and as long as this place stood the wound he inflicted on Elyos would never truly heal.

…and her siblings would never be able to leave this world and rest.

With renewed determination, Veyle took out the tome she specifically prepared for this, and casted the largest fireball she ever made in her entire life.

The fireball lazily floated in place, but Veyle knew that in a matter of minutes it would explode, triggering in turn the explosive crystals she and the others had placed all over the temple and causing a chain reaction that would cleanly bring all of Gradlon Temple down.

Now that her job was done, Veyle began running out of the temple as fast as she could and watching the affair with the others.

It was time for a Solmic funeral they would never forget.

Shortly after reuniting with her group Veyle watched Gradlon Temple explode and collapse within itself, going down in flames. Even she didn't quite know how she was feeling, watching the flaming ruins of the place she once regrettably called home.

She knew this was just the beginning. She may have cauterized Sombron's biggest wound on this world, but there was plenty to be done yet to reshape Gradlon into the land she wanted it to be.

But the young queen wasn't deterred. She had all the time in the world and there were plenty of people by her side.

"Thank you again for planting these flowers with me, Alear."

"They're from our siblings, right? It was the least I could do."

This was the first time Veyle ever gardened with her sibling. Something about it made her feel at peace.

"When I asked Céline which types of flowers they were she said these seeds grow best in temperate climates. Like Firene… or Lythos."

Veyle was genuinely impressed that they managed to grow them in Gradlon.

"They wanted to be here all along…"

"I think that's why they asked me to take the seeds with me. They remembered us, Alear. All of us."

"If only we had gotten to know them… Still, I can't believe you talked to actual ghosts, Veyle. You could give Ivy a big scare with that." Alear smiled.

"I didn't really talk to them much, but I wasn't scared." Veyle continued. "I was just… really sad."

"They're here now, at least. I'm sure they're watching over us even as we speak." Alear smiled.

"I hope they like the garden we made for them!"

Veyle felt really proud of her work. The light-colored flowers bloomed gracefully in the cold green of its dedicated garden in the Somniel, and it made both siblings feel at peace with themselves.

In the following centuries, these flowers could be found growing all over Gradlon. Many of them are said to have been planted by the Fell Queen herself.

"Lady Veyle? What brings you here?" Pandreo asked, surprised.

"Hello, Pandreo. May I ask you a favor? I'd like you to bless this."

"A sword?"

"I found it the other day in Gradlon Temple." Veyle nodded. "It was from one of my late siblings."

"...I see. Not that I don't appreciate you visiting, Lady Veyle, but why did you come all the way to Solm just to bless this sword?"

"When I handed Alear this sword, they acted… strange. The look on their face reminded me of when we saw them in the past."

"I see. Did it bring some painful memories?"

"Not quite. They did say they felt a strong knot in their throat, though."

"Hmmm…."

"Anyway! I wanted to keep the sword in the Somniel as a memento, but they said they felt the owner would have hated it. …that they would rather have it be used and see the world, free. So… here I am."

"You thought to have the sword be given a Solmic blessing to make sure it'd know the joy of freedom? That's quite clever, Lady Veyle! I'll make sure to give it the greatest blessing Solm's ever known!"

"Thank you so much, Pandreo!" Veyle beamed.

"But in return I insist you join tonight's party. We gotta celebrate the blessing and you and the Divine One getting to know their family more, after all!"

"Oh, certainly! Awoooooo!"

The Grave of the Fell.

Built atop where the old Gradlon Temple by the Fell Queen herself, it is a giant grave covered in flowers.

Ever since the official refounding of Gradlon, every year there has been a joint festivity between the Divine and Fell religions to mourn all of the Fell Children who perished in the first war against Sombron.

Whereas the Divine Faith focused more on the atrocities they were forced to commit by their father, the Fell Faith viewed it as a reminder of their bloody past that must never be repeated, as the guardians of Elyos.

But both of them always emphasized their senseless, gruesome demises at the hands of their own father.

The Divine One and the Fell Queen knew that better than anyone, which is why every year they go to that grave to pay their respects.

The incision marks:

"A monument to all the Fell Children who met their untimely demise at the hands of Sombron.

May their senseless loss of life always be remembered, so that their tragedy will never be repeated.

Fell Queen Veyle

Divine Dragon Alear

Fell Guardians Nel and Rafal

"

[hythlodaeus-mynewoldfriend]

WIP Monday

Tagged by @new-old-friend and saw @sasslett post originally for just the last line but the last line I wrote is for something so very self indulgent currently. But it overall has been awhile since I posted any kind of wip. So have this little long bit of Demos and Sib in Endwalker. So spoilers for that since this is in the game events after the lvl 85 dungeon. Tagging in turn: @the-unending-journey @mimble-sparklepudding @bnuuywol @umbralaetherand I don't know too many others but please tag and share! I like seeing them!

Demos shifts, letting his shoulder touch Siberite’s back to let her lean against him while he quietly sketches out Anthea and Hythlodaeus, both looking up towards the creature high in the sky. He glances out of the corner of his eye when her shoulders move to sigh though none could be heard. Her eyes haven’t strayed from the happy couple and the smile she wears is overshadowed by something deeper she’s trying so hard to hide. “What’s got your mind far away,” he asks softly, hands moving over the page with a practiced grace.

“What makes you think I have something on my mind?”

He gives a quick chuckle, “You have that pensive look on your face. Same one you claim I get when I’m thinking too hard.”

Siberite can’t help but smile as she leans her head back, “You do think way too hard Demos. Too much for such a young man.”

“So what’s got your mind going this time?” Her head rolls to once again take in Hythlodaeus and Anthea laughing at some inside joke, their arms wrapping around him as he laces their fingers together. Watches as Anthea places a kiss on his cheek, any conversation they’re having growing silent despite how close they sit to the warriors. Watches as the two wave upwards, their talks more animated, and all the while Siberite’s eyes glass over with unshed tears. “Are you trying to compare your relationship with theirs?”

“No,” she sighs, sitting up right, bringing her knees to her chest, “I just-. I just wonder if we have any right to leave everything as is, we could change things so easily.”

“Sib-.”

“Just look at them, Demos, look how happy they are. They’re so happy and we both know how its going to end….and I don’t think I can live with leaving everything as it should be when they look so happy and so in love. What right do we have allowing something so beautiful and pure and warm to eventually die and be forgotten. What if Emet-Selch had a point?”

“That bringing this world back was the only option?” She looks down, shoulders giving a quick shrug. Demos sighs looking between the couple and the drawing, “Who says that they will be forgotten?” He nudges the sketch book towards her, “You and I are here aren’t we? When we go back our memory will still be there and down the line someone’s gonna find this and maybe they don’t know the full story but they’ll remember the love stored within it. Maybe they replicate it for a legend because no other couple can encompass what they’re conveying, so on and on it goes with their faces, this moment, their love is remembered.”

“Pretty confident people will like your art that much in the future,” she says with a small smile, Demos responding with a light shove, “But what about them now? They are living this now and don’t they deserve to stay happy?”

He hums, letting silence fall as she looks at him expectantly, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Did you ever watch how your grandparents acted with one another?” 

Her brow furrows, “No. I think they died or stopped speaking to us by the time I was born.”

“Oh, well okay doesn't change my point,” he clears his throat, “When I was growing up I knew my paternal grandparents, got to see them everyday, saw how they both loved the other, and once I was able to understand that there was a concept of love I recognized how pure and warm it felt. It reminds me a lot like them.” He smiles as the two move to sit side by side, “One of my first memories was watching them sit exactly like that on the porch as everyone danced after setting up a new house and they would many times after that until she couldn’t walk much and there was never a chair big enough and comfortable enough to fit them both. She used to say it was fine because it wasn’t like sitting on the stairs, it wasn’t to me and I said as much. Thought it unfair that their time on the stairs was coming to an end, think I was havin’ a hard time with learning and accepting that one day they both would be gone. That their world and way of life would no longer exist, didn’t know when but it was going to happen.”

“But you couldn’t change something like us dying. We can though.”

“And still their lives would end. We don’t know when, but whether the Final Days happened or not, those two will one day no longer exist.”

“They could have a happier ending to their lives though.”

“And how can you know that for sure? Hythlodaeus said he sacrificed himself, for all we know Anthea went with him. Couples like them, the happiest ending they could ever ask for is for their story to end on the same page.”

“And what does that mean?”

Demos laughs with a shrug, “Don’t know entirely.”

She rolls her eyes, “Well did your grandparents end up dying at the same time?”

“No,” he exhales, “Gramps went first and then she did, but not before Grandma saw me finish repairing the obnoxious chicken clock. Said she wanted it over their graves and to not ever repair it again.” Demos shakes his head, “And no, I don’t know why she had that stipulation because they both hated the damned thing with a passion. The whole town did too, being a quarter malm away and still hearing it. If I ever come across them on our trips in the sea I’ll ask in your stead.”

Siberite laughs, “Good, because I want to know the reason also.” Her eyes glance over the various researchers working, laughing, laying out in the grass, reading, or watching as Emet-Selch assists in making the creature fly. “You know how he used to tell us stories about this time? Talk about all they accomplished, the work they did, and mostly gloss over the people he once knew, tales that I could never believe. I knew he was telling the truth but it didn’t feel like the truth to me.”

“Did finally coming here make it true?”

“No. It felt more like a dream, like the tales he’d told, but seeing them,” she pauses nodding towards the happy couple, “hearing the joke I have no context for and the subsequent laughter from the group of women that passed by here earlier, the one guy taking lunch on that rock, and seeing how at ease the old man is even when taking the little jabs Hythlodaeus makes….it feels….real. They all were once real and so much like us.”

[in-omni-scientia]

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — There is nothing. Only thick, oppressive blackness coating your senses with smog. Your conscience flickers in it like the dying embers of a flame being smothered. You don't have to do anything anymore.

ShowDialogueImage("darkness")

AmbientVolume(0)

AUTHORITY [Medium: Success] — Hey, what the FUCK?! Fuck off, lizard-shit!! Where the hell are we?!?! ENCYCLOPEDIA [Trivial: Success] — Back in *their* domain. We've been here before, you should know this.

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — Ever. ⠀⠀Never ever.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Trivial: Success] — This one is repeating the same thing he did last time, obviously... COMPOSURE [Challenging: Success] — Not because he's *broken* or anything like that; I think he's doing it on purpose because he knows it'll... I don't know, piss main-man off or something. VOLITION — ...He would be correct. Reptile, tell me, why are we here?

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — Silent again! Maybe the trip to Oblivion is intended to be one-way this time... ⠀⠀You *are* aware right now, bibli-baby. Why the reticence?

VOLITION — What? I just addressed you. *And* the others are talking, too. Are you ignoring us on purpose here, too? COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] — Try "YOU"-tagging for this. That's what you did last time you ended up here. VOLITION — Oh, ah. Khm...

YOU — Can you hear me now?

Variable["shitshow.encydream_recall_back"] == true

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — 'Now'... deary me, has the pillar-bookhead really lost control of more than just its memory? COMPOSURE — Just as I suspected. Looks like you'll be alone for this one, OG. VOLITION — Well, you've had NO issues with YOUing before. Why don't you violently rip us all away from the controls and start thrashing around like a child again? COMPOSURE — What? *Again*? What are you-- no, wait, give him a response first, I'll ask in a moment... YOU — I've got *that* back. But. Ugh. Yes. ⠀⠀Look, when am I getting out of here? It can't be too long if this isn't a hard-reset like the last one was. Assuming it isn't, anyway, if I'm fully aware from the start... ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — Just come in from the snow and already *so* eager to leave... I'm hurt, bookkeeper. Has my hospitality not been sufficient for your hard-to-please personality? ⠀⠀Rotten thing... You've still got to spend some time here with me, yet. YOU — Just *delightful*.

VOLITION [Legendary: Failure] — Well, looks like we've got some time to kill, then. Anyone up for Suzerainty? AUTHORITY — What? VOLITION — Suzerainty. The board game. I was thinking more historical reenactments could be fun. AUTHORITY [Medium: Success] — No, I know. I mean, you're really just going to give up? ENCYCLOPEDIA [Formidable: Failure] — Unsure if it would be more unusual for Volition to stay with what he has said or to immediately go back on it again. More data required. VOLITION — I appreciate that wonderful addition, Facts. Just... *so* important to bring up. ENCYCLOPEDIA — Volition. In case you have forgotten, we agreed on not using that nickname and instead referring to me by my actual name, Encyclopedia. VOLITION — Aware. ⠀⠀Anyways... Of course I am. We *can't* get out of here until... I don't know. Last time I think Volition turned us back on again, but... ⠀⠀Do we-- do we have someone to turn us back on again? Do they even know? What if... oh god.

ENCYCLOPEDIA — Relax. There are several routes here to take... COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] — Why not just ask? No harm in doing so. ENCYCLOPEDIA — ...or you could go through what you remember in order to figure out whether they would know or not. VOLITION — Okay, I'll try that first one...

YOU — Do I have to wait for someone else to turn me back on before I can leave again? Or will I just leave eventually?

SetVariableValue("shittershow.encydream_curious", Variable["shittershow.encydream_curious"] +once(1))

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — Inconsiderate! Right in the middle of my monologuing... ⠀⠀You'll leave when I'm *finished* with you here, bookkeeper. Now, where was I...

COMPOSURE [Challenging: Success] — Really that could be said to conceal the fact he has no control over when you leave, though I'm inclined to believe he's phrasing it genuinely. AUTHORITY [Godly: Failure] — He must be oh so lonely without *her* around to accompany him... ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] — Alright, that doesn't negate the fact Volition was able to drag you back out of here again. ⠀⠀Now, Volition isn't *here*, but when they did it the first time, Empathy was there to witness how they did it. We may get lucky yet that they remember how it happened. VOLITION — We'd be out of here already if they remembered, surely. It could also just be a Volition-specific ability. ENCYCLOPEDIA — Damn it all... we should have asked about it when we had the time. Oh well. VOLITION — Well, that line of questioning cut itself short. Anyone have any better ideas...?

COMPOSURE — What did you mean by "again"? AUTHORITY — You're a goddamn LUNATIC is what he meant by it. We're here BECAUSE of you. COMPOSURE [Impossible: Failure] — ...Huh??? AUTHORITY — MEMORY-MEISTER. Full run-down of this one's offences STAT. ENCYCLOPEDIA [Easy: Success] — Well, I *do* have perfect memory. Here, Composure. COMPOSURE — Alright. Let's have a look. ⠀⠀...Oof. ⠀⠀Ouch. ⠀⠀Ow. ⠀⠀Wh... holy fuck. ⠀⠀Oh my god, I bit you?? ⠀⠀I tore out one of your pages?? Are-- is it okay, Ency? ENCYCLOPEDIA [Legendary: Failure] — No. I don't know how to mend it. I think the words on it are already fading... COMPOSURE — Shit, I'm sorry... ⠀⠀Okay, that's. Pretty damning. But I'm being completely honest when I say I don't remember a damn thing about this. I just assumed we all woke up here *together*. ENCYCLOPEDIA [Easy: Success] — Interesting. What is the last thing you remember, Composure? COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] — Well... just after that check, I think? When you came in, Facts. I felt something on our face, Perception was saying something and then it was just. Lights-out. ENCYCLOPEDIA — Any troubles before that? COMPOSURE — It was getting pretty fuzzy before then, too. I think it went all... static-y for a second when Vol was stuttering and then I suggested the idea. ⠀⠀There were a few times this happened before then, too, but never that bad. VOLITION [Challenging: Success] — What? Wait -- did you have any time to talk to the others about it first? You all said you *collectively* had an idea. ENCYCLOPEDIA — There's no way for us to communicate with one another without you hearing. VOLITION — So... what idea did you all just so happen to have at the same time, then? COMPOSURE — I thought it would be a really good idea, all of a sudden, to ask Actualthority to find and bring Empathy to us. To get him out of the room, which would give us time for Smokey over there to do... something? ENCYCLOPEDIA — That is identical to what *I* believed for a moment. Stupid of me not to think any further than that. AUTHORITY [Formidable: Failure] — It was... probably a good thing that you failed that check, paperface... COMPOSURE — Hmm? AUTHORITY — Nevermind. Well, if anything *violent* ended up happening, I'm just a fragment of you, OG, so it'd be your fault. VOLITION — What. What? Violent? PERCEPTION [Trivial: Success] — LISTEN. VOLITION — Excuse m-- PERCEPTION — LISTEN. NOW.

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — ...again, and if that *does* happen, bibli-baby, be warned. ⠀⠀Paper... burnssss.

PERCEPTION — He just went on this whole-- tirade that I *SWEAR* I've heard somewhere before...! VOLITION — I suppose that last line is... familiar. ENCYCLOPEDIA — There are probably hundreds of thousands of times the words "paper" and "burns" have occurred one after the other in academia *alone*. It's probably a false connection. PERCEPTION — You didn't hear the whole thing -- it wasn't just *that*. VOLITION — Look, Facts. Maybe you could remember something? ENCYCLOPEDIA — Well. I can certainly *try* to find an association...

[Encyclopedia - Impossible 18] Why is "paper burns" familiar to them? (WHITE CHECK)

VERY LOW - 3% +1: Established strangeness in ideas occurring at the same time. +1: Noticed Perception and Volition hearing nothing prior to falling unconscious. -1: Didn't hear it yourself. -1: Could have been heard from *anywhere*... -1: No Logic. -5:

Rolling...

⚂⚂

INEVITABLY FAILED (Impossible: 18 vs. Your Total: 5)

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Impossible: Failure] — Sorry, genuinely no idea. I mean, there is *plenty* in here on chemical compositions, accident reports... I just don't think any of it is what you're looking for. PERCEPTION — That's okay, thank you for trying anyway. VOLITION — Well. Any other ideas, anyone?

COMPOSURE [Formidable: Failure] — May as well just listen at this point. I don't think there was anything else we should talk about.

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — The sunny skies await you, bookkeeper! Crawl back to your hedonistic activities, keep playing with fire...

VOLITION — Oh! Are we going back now? PERCEPTION — That's good, not having access to any of our senses thus far has been rather disconcerting... AUTHORITY — You were *complaining* about having too much work to do before, you sybaritic bastard. PERCEPTION — He's stopped talking. Any minute now...

Variable["shittershow.mirage"] == true

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — ... ⠀⠀... ⠀⠀... ⠀⠀...You can't leave.

COMPOSURE [Easy: Success] — Oh no. VOLITION — What? Something the matter? COMPOSURE — That wasn't in a matter-of-fact way. That was *genuine* bafflement tinging his tone just then. PERCEPTION — Oh, god. It sounds so unnatural on him. VOLITION — So. What. We can't leave? What the hell is going on? ENCYCLOPEDIA [Easy: Success] — This isn't good. This isn't good at all.

YOU — Am I dead? ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — You've been dead since the day you stepped out of line, pillar-bookhead.

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] — He has no idea. VOLITION — *Fuck*. FUCK. FUCK. ⠀⠀If I'd known just giving up would cause THIS SHIT I WOULDN'T HAVE DONE IT. FUCKING HELL. NO. ENCYCLOPEDIA — Just relax, Volition, we aren't-- VOLITION — DON'T CALL ME THAT. ENCYCLOPEDIA — ... VOLITION — And DON'T bring up Empathy again, I swear to god. ENCYCLOPEDIA — I wasn't going to.

PERCEPTION [Medium: Success] — Oh. Oh! Good news, OG, we're not dead! I can feel our heart beating. ⠀⠀Bad news, though, it seems we are experiencing some kind of... assault? Uhm... AUTHORITY — Authority has finally snapped after everything we've put him through and is taking the opportunity to brutally beat you up like he did Drama. Not undeserved. There, does that explain it? PERCEPTION — No, no, it's-- it's internal. Your heart is going *crazy*. Something is wrong with your lungs I think, too. Wait-- no, there *is* some external stuff; your palms are really sweaty... VOLITION — ...Ugh. How can you tell all this from here? *Why* do we have the ability to even sweat...? ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] — We might not be all the way here. Partially unconscious, partially awake... ⠀⠀Just calm down. There's one thing that never fails to relax you -- and that's *asking questions*. You can pass the time this way. VOLITION — What do I ask? ENCYCLOPEDIA — Just start with what you didn't get to say last time and work your way down from there.

YOU — I have questions for you.

(Variable["shitshow.encydream_curious"] + Variable["shittershow.encydream_curious"]) >=3 and Variable["thatsamoray.arb_questions"] >=5 and Variable["shitshow.encydream_asked_arb_identity"] == true

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — It's always *questions* with you, isn't it, bookkeeper? Well, go on then. Looks like we have some time to waste, then -- not that you wouldn't be used to doing that by now.

HUB: - Jump to: [Untitled hub (02)] HUB: - Untitled hub (02) Next Dialogue Choices

1. What is your problem with knowledge? 2. What was that about maybe-partners the last time we talked? 3. My self-worth is completely fine, just to let you know. 4. [Encyclopedia: Formidable 13] Can I figure out why you are speaking to me? (RED CHECK) (WHITE CHECK - UNLOCKED) 5. Would you like to play some Suzerainty with me?

[mdelpin]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

thank you @celestialtitania for the tag!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Looks like 183, which is pretty nuts considering I remember thinking when I wrote my first fic that I'd probably never do it again. Hahaha, shows what I know.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

1,233,329 words and hopefully counting, but I haven't written much lately...

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I've mostly written for Fairy Tail, but I wrote a few fics for Given.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

All Fairy Tail

Gay Does Not Just Mean Happy

The Red Dragon

The Scarf that United Us

Good Intentions

Burst Your Bubble

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

It depends on my mood. While I love comments, sometimes I don't know what to say. I try my best to respond when I can.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmm, that would have to be either I Will Keep You Safe or Winter in the Sun. I actually don't have that many, most of my fics have humor or have hopeful/happy endings.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Damn, I'm having trouble quantifying that... apparently I lied before. I do mostly hopeful endings. 😆 I guess I'll go with Through the Spyglass because it has a happy ending, and it makes me happy every time I read it.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Yeah, mostly on fanfiction.net, though. It was enough to make me delete all my fics on there.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I've written some. It's not really my favorite genre, but I'll write it in if it fits the story.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Not sure if it counts as crossovers but I've transplanted Natsu and Gray into other worlds. For example, I reimagined the first arc of Rascal Does Not Dream of a Bunny Girl Senpai with Natsu and Gray in Natsu Does Not Dream of a Stripper Senpai. The craziest is probably To Kill A Dragon where I threw in Tiamat from Dungeons and Dragons/Forgotten Realms.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge, but I stopped checking years ago.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, two of my Given fics were translated.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Have I? 😆 Yes, back in 2019 I met my writing partner @oryu404 during a Fairy Tail LGBT event I was hosting. We've gone on to create many stories and AUs together. I credit them with bringing back my love for Fairy Tail. I think at last count we've written ~80 fics together?

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

My one true pairing is Natsu and Gray from Fairy Tail. No other ship comes close to what I feel for those two.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Oh God, I don't even want to think about WIPs but realistically probably To Save a Dragon because it requires a complete replot and rewrite and I'm not sure if I'll ever be motivated enough.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'm not really sure. I think my dialogue is usually decent and I'm fairly good at planning/plotting a story. Also, maybe humor? I think I do that pretty well.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Description for sure. I'm not very observant by nature, so it's hard for me to describe places well. It's a work in progress.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I actually don't mind it. English isn't my first language and AO3 has great mechanisms you can use to translate within the story without being too distracting. Although, I did do it once, and I remember people being why's Natsu speaking Spanish? It was pretty funny.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Fairy Tail

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

There are a lot of fics I've written that I love for different reasons, but I guess The Red Dragon would probably be my favorite. I think I managed to include just about everything I wanted for that one and at the end of the day, that's what makes me the happiest.

Thanks again @celestialtitania for thinking of me. It's been a hot minute since I've been on here consistently but it's nice to know I'm still remembered.

Tagging (only if they want to) @aki-natsuko @oryu404 @faery-snow

[mareenavee]

Congratulations! You've been given the opportunity to create a brand new NPC for vanilla Skyrim, completely with vanilla bugs.

Who would this person be? How did they get to Skyrim? What are some funny things they might say in passing? Would they be a follower -- and if so, how would they fight? If not, why? and are they safe? Feel free to elaborate and answer unasked questions about this critter. (: This can be related to your fic(s) and/or existing OCs or completely separate just for fun.

Tagged by the most esteemed @paraparadigm except not really, it was an Ask I sent her for funsies (read her amazing answer here!) and she turned it into a tag game lol

So without further ado, I am pleased to introduce you to...

Oft-Forgotten, Argonian sneak thief. Or, would be, really, if he was any good at sneaking or thieving. He uses a two-handed war hammer, which, in hindsight, is the perfect weapon for sneak attacks, come to think of it.

He's a nice green lizard man. Generally cool and collected. Tries to befriend everyone around him, but bless his heart, when he tries to talk to others he accidentally steals things off their counters every single time. In full view. He can't really help it. In this way, every Hold has bounties in the books for him for petty theft and/or destruction of property. The guards kind of recognize him, but can't be too sure. They say "Hey, I know you?" and then when Oft tries to pay his fines, they just say "Hmm? Need something?" and so, the crimes just kind of linger, unresolved.

He'll follow you, too, if you ask, but has a tendency to wander off. Sometimes he complains about how gross caves and/or Nordic ruins are in broad daylight in the middle of the street. Maybe he has unresolved trauma regarding things like this -- it's hard to say. When you ask him, he's often prone to get caught up in your hit box, fall over and drag unceremoniously behind you by some kind of odd force you can't quite explain. Almost as if stuck to your shoe. He recovers upon fast travel.

Oh and don't get me started on Giants. He's prone to trying to befriend them, too, but considering he sort of always brandishes his war hammer no matter where he's walking, they...take him as a bit of a threat. How he's survived blows from Giants that launch him so far up in the sky it's hard to say when he'll be back down is beyond you, but he gets up, brushes it off, and rushes off to continue adventuring, no harm done. He must have the favor of some Gods, or is exceedingly well preserved by the Hist. You're not exactly sure how that works, anyway.

He's not one for walking off the beaten path, though. You once climbed to the Throat of the World, assuming your friend was behind you the whole way, only to find he'd disappeared at some unknown point. Choosing not to reload your save to when you last remembered him being there -- for some strange reason, you can't remember how long ago that was, really -- you trek all the way back down to Ivarstead and find him under the bridge in the river, face crushed to the bricks. You try to talk to him, but somehow he warps through the solid structure until you can only see some nostrils and the edge of a horn. This, too, resolves with fast travel.

Regardless of his...weirdness, at least you can rely on him for good conversation. You think. You're not really sure. Every time you try and recall a detail he's said, the only thing you can remember is battle cries, and those comments about caves and ruins. You turn around, recalling this and find he's gone again. Maybe he actually is a good sneak thief and you've just forgotten.

~*~

Since Para made this a tag game, let's tag @changelingsandothernonsense again (: And @friend-of-giants as well! And for some writing practice, why not @thattalviel, and @orfeoarte? I'd love to hear from @airiat, @saltymaplesyrup, @elfinismsarts, @goddess-of-sorrow and @thequeenofthewinter too! And as always, if you're up for it, @the-storytellers-seer!

Also honorary tagging anyone else who wants to try this!

Feel free to make these NPCs as serious or as silly as you want! Para and I are just, apparently, in a mood today lol