#is this a normal amount to be thinking about someone who tried to kill me or am i having a leyline deviation

[cynomain69]

very cute of sethos to mention that their ba fragments had different natures makes me feel super normal 100% well adjusted

[david-watts]

there used to be this programme on sbs years back where it looked at whether certain homeopathic/natural/cultural medicine had actual benefits or not and I'm sure that programme did really good things in terms of legitimising genuine alternative treatments that have helped many people but what I mostly remember it doing was making my grandmother go 'see you don't need to be on medicine' and then not even allowing me to do the alternative medicine either. which was great

[perfectlyvalid49]

On being Jewish, and traumatized (It’s been 5 months and I want to talk):

Judaism is a joyous religion. So much of our daily practice is to focus us on the things that are good. I know that there’s a joke that all our holidays can be summed up as “they tried to kill us. We survived – let’s eat!”, and you might think that holidays focused on attempts at killing us might be somber, but they’re really not. Most are celebrated in the sense of, “we’re still here, let’s have a party!” When I think about practicing Judaism, the things I think about make me happy.

But I think a lot of non-Jews don’t necessarily see Judaism the same way. I think in part it’s because we do like to kvetch, but I think a lot of it is because from the outside it’s harder to see the joy, and very easy to see the long history of suffering that has been enacted on the Jewish people. From the inside, it’s very much, “we’re still here, let’s party” and from the outside it’s, “how many times have they tried to kill you? Why are you celebrating? They tried to KILL YOU!”

And I want to start with that because a lot of the rest of this is going to be negative. And I don’t want people to read it and wonder why I still want to be Jewish. I want to be Jewish because it makes me happy. My problem isn’t with being Jewish, it’s with how Jews are treated.

What I really wanted to write about is being Jewish and the trauma that’s involved with that right now.

First, I want to talk about Israeli Jews. I can’t say much here because I’m not Israeli, nor do I have any close friends or family that are Israeli. But if I’m going to be talking about the trauma Jews are experiencing right now, I can’t not mention the fact that Israeli Jews (and Israelis that aren’t Jewish as well, but that’s not my focus here) are dealing with massive amounts of it right now. It’s a tiny country – virtually everyone has a friend or family member that was killed or kidnapped, or knows someone who does. Thousands of rockets have been fired at Israel in the last few months – think about the fact that the Iron Dome exists and why it needs to. Terror attacks are ongoing; I feel like there’s been at least one every week since October. Thousands of people are displaced from their homes, either because of the rocket fire, or because their homes and communities were physically destroyed in the largest pogrom in recent history – the deadliest single day for Jews since the Holocaust ended. If that’s not trauma inducing, I don’t know what is.

And there is, of course, the generational trauma. And I think Jewish generational trauma is interesting because it’s so layered. Because it’s not just the result of one trauma passed down through the generations. Every 50-100 years, antisemitism intensifies, and so very frequently the people experiencing a traumatic event were already suffering from the generational trauma that their grandparents or great grandparents lived through. And those elders were holding the generational trauma from the time before that. And so on.

And because it happens so regularly, there’s always someone in the community that remembers the last time. We are never allowed the luxury of imagining that we are safe. We know what happened before, and we know that it happened again and again and again. And so we know that it only makes sense to assume it will happen in the future. The trauma response is valid. I live in America because my great grandparents lived in Russia and they knew when it was time to get the hell out in the 1900s. And the reason they knew that is because their grandparents remembered the results of the blood libels in the 1850s. How can we heal when the scar tissue keeps us safe?

I look around now and wonder if we’ll need to run. We have a plan. I repeat, my family has a plan for what to do if we need to flee the country due to religious persecution. How can that possibly be normal? And yet, all the Jewish families I know have similar plans. It is normal if you’re Jewish. Every once in a while I see someone who isn’t Jewish talk about making plans to leave because they’re LGBTQ or some other minority and the question always seems to be, “should I make a plan?” It astounds me every time. The Jewish answer is that you need to have a plan and the only question is, “when should I act?” Sometimes our Jewish friends discuss it at play dates. Where will you go? What are the triggers to leave? No one wants to go any earlier then they have to. Everyone knows what the price of holding off too long might be.

I want to keep my children safe. When do I induct them into the club? When do I let my sweet, innocent kids know that some people will hate them for being Jewish? When do I teach them the skills my parents and grandparents taught me? How to pass as white, how to pass as Christian, knowing when to keep your mouth shut about what you believe. When do I tell them about the Holocaust and teach them the game “would this person hide me?” How hard do I have to work to remind them that while you want to believe that a person would hide you, statistically, most people you know would not have? Who is this more traumatic for? Them, to learn that there is hatred in the world and it is directed at them, or me, to have to drive some of the innocence out of my own children’s eyes in order to make sure they are prepared to meet the reality of the world?

And the reality of the world is that it is FULL of antisemitism. There’s a lot of…I guess I’d call it mild antisemitism that’s always present that you just kinda learn to ignore. It’s the sort of stuff that non-Jews might not even recognize as antisemitic until you explain it to them, just little micro-aggressions that you do your best to ignore because you know that the people doing it don’t necessarily mean it, it’s just the culture we live in. It can still hurt though. I like to compare it to a bruise: you can mostly ignore it, but every once in a while something (more blatant antisemitism) will put a bit to much pressure on it and you remember that you were already hurting this whole time.

On top of the background antisemitism, there’s more intense stuff. And usually the most intense, mask off antisemitism comes from the right. This makes sense, in that a lot of right politics are essentially about hating the “other” and what are Jews if not Western civilizations oldest type of “other”? On the one hand, I’ve always been fortunate enough to live in relatively liberal areas so this sort of antisemitism has felt far away and impersonal – they hate everybody, and I’m just part of everybody. On the other hand, until recently I’ve always considered this the most dangerous source of antisemitism. This is the antisemitism that leads to hate crimes, that leads to synagogue shootings. This is the reason why my synagogue is built so that there is a long driveway before you can even see the building, and that driveway is filled with police on the high holidays. This is the reason why my husband and I were scared to hang a mezuzah in our first apartment (and second, and third). For a long time, this was the antisemitism that made me afraid.

But the left has a problem with antisemitism too. And it has always been there. Where the right hates the “other”, the left hates the “privileged/elite/oppressors.” It’s the exact same thing, just dressed up with different words. They all mean “other” and “other” means “Jew.” It hurts more coming from the left though. A lot of Jewish philosophy leans left. A lot of Jews lean left. So when the left decides to hate us, it isn’t a random stranger, it’s a friend, and it feels like a betrayal.

One of the people I follow works for Yad Vashem, and a few weeks ago she mentioned a video they have with testimonies from people who came to Israel after Kristallnacht, with an unofficial title of “The blow came from within.” The idea is that to non-German Jews, the Holocaust was something done by strangers. It was still terrible, but it is easier to bear the hate of a stranger – it’s not personal. But to German Jews, the Holocaust was a betrayal. It wasn’t done by strangers, it was done by coworkers, and neighbors and people they thought were friends. It was done by people who knew them, and still looked at them and said, “less than human.” And because of this sense of betrayal, German survivors, or Germans who managed to get out before they got rounded up, had a very different experience than other Holocaust victims.

And I feel like a lot of left leaning Jews are having a similar experience now. People that we’ve marched with or organized with, or even just mutuals that we’ve thought of as friends are now going on about how Jews are evil. They repeat antisemitic talking points from the Nazis and from the Protocols of the Elders of Zion, and when we point out that those ideas have only led to Jewish death in the past they don’t care. And if someone you thought of as a friend thinks of you this way, what do you think a stranger might think? Might do?

The Jews are fucking terrified. I’ve seen a post going around that basically wonders if this was what it was like for our ancestors – when things got bad enough to see what was coming but before it was too late to run? And we can see what’s coming. History tells us that they way people are talking and acting only leads to one place. I’m a millennial – when I was a kid the grandparents at my synagogue made sure the kids knew – this is what it looked like before, this is what you need to watch out for, this is when you need to run. I wonder where to run to. It feels like nowhere is safe.

I feel like I’ve been lucky in all this. I don’t live in Israel. I have family and acquaintances who do, but no one I’m particularly close to. Everyone I know in real life has either been sane or at least silent about all of this (the internet has been significantly worse, but when it comes to hate, the internet is always worse). I live in a relatively liberal area – there’s always been antisemitism around anyway, but it’s mostly just been swastikas on flyers, or people advocating for BDS, not anything that’s made me actually worry for my safety. But in the last 5 months there have been bomb threats at my synagogue, and just last week a kid got beat up for being Jewish at our local high school. He doesn’t want to report it. He’s worried it will make it worse.

I bought a Magen David to wear in November. At the time it seemed like the best way to fight antisemitism was to be visibly Jewish, to show that we’re just normal people like everyone else. Plus, I figured that if me being Jewish was going to be a problem for someone, then I would make it a problem right away and not waste time. I’ve worn it almost constantly since, but the one time I took it off was when I burnt my finger in December and had to go to urgent care. I didn’t think about it too much when I did it, but I thought about it for a long time after – I didn’t feel good about having made that choice.

The conclusion I came to is that the training that my elders had been so careful to instill in me kicked in. I was hurt, and scared, and the voice inside my head that sounds like my grandmother said, “don’t give them a reason to be bad to you. Fight when you’re well, but for now – survive.” It still felt cowardly, but it was also a connection to my ancestors who heeded the same voice well enough to survive. And it enrages me that that voice has been necessary in the past. And it enrages me that things are bad enough now that my instinct is that I need to hide who I am to receive appropriate medical care.

I wish I had some sort of final thought to tie this all together other than, “this sucks and I hate it,” but I really don’t. I could call for people to examine their antisemitic biases, but I’m not foolish enough to think that this will reach the people who need to do so. I could wish for a future where everything I’ve talked about here exists only in history books, and the Jewish experience is no longer tied to feeling this pain, but that’s basically wishing for the moshiach, and I’m not going to hold my breath.

I guess I’ll end it with the thought that through all of this hate and pain and fear, we’re still here. And we’re still joyful as well. As much as so many people have tried over literally THOUSANDS of years to eradicate us, I’m still here, I’m still Jewish, and being Jewish still makes me happy.

Am Yisrael Chai.

[ecstarry]

@jegulus-microfic / rank / 705 words / game of truth or dare goes wrong, or not?

“Trust me Sirius, you will regret this,” Regulus whispered in his brother’s ears as everyone around them cheered for the next game. 

“I’m your big brother, I will never regret embarrassing you.” Sirius took Regulus by the shoulders and made him sit on a chair in the middle of the circle. It was the first party where both Sirius’ group of friends and Regulus’ were hanging out, it was Dorcas and Marlene’s idea now that they were dating. 

“The game is really easy, you take a drop of veritaserum, and someone gets to ask a question. Got it?” Everyone around the room hummed in confirmation as Regulus drank his dose of the potion. His eyes met James’ across the room, his boyfriend tried to conceal his nervousness with a smile. If their friends were smarter, Regulus was sure they would’ve picked up on their relationship by now, without the need of a veritaserum. 

First, they went through the normal round of questions just to make sure that the potion was working. No more than three questions in and Sirius decided it was time for the actual fun.

“Do I actually embarrass you, Reggie?” Sirius teased, but he was clearly eager for the answer. 

“No, you’re my favorite person and I love you.” A round of loud ‘awwws’ echoed in the room. “Oh shut up, and just ask another question,” Regulus blurted out. 

He immediately regretted it as he saw Barty’s mind clearly plotting something. 

“Okay, I have one. Dear Regulus, would you be so kind as to rank your best kisses?”

“Ew! NO!” Sirius quickly protested. 

From the corner of his eye, Regulus could tell how the question made James' heart race. This was not how they had planned to tell everyone they were dating. 

“Shhh! I want to know,” Remus insisted.

“I don’t! Knowing you two kissed when you did perfect rounds together is all the information I need about the matter!” Sirius was hysterical. 

“Just answer the question Reg, start with the third place,” Barty instructed. 

Regulus tried to fight the truth, this truly was the last way he wanted his brother and friends to know he had been dating Gryffindor’s golden boy. He once again searched for James’ eyes, and James was already looking at him, so lovingly. His boyfriend mouthed the words ‘it’s okay’, so Regulus took a deep breath and answered. 

“Fine. Third place would be Evan.”

“Quite the kisser you are too, love.” Evan blew him a kiss in response and everyone started laughing and commenting. 

“Shhh, I want to know who is in second place,” Dorcas intercepted. 

“Sirius, don’t hate me,” Regulus said as he closed his eyes and fought once more the words that were about to come out. “Second one is Rem-”

“I’M LEAVING!” Sirius announced loudly as he got up. 

“Sirius, don’t be dramatic, don’t you want to know who is actually first?” Remus said, trying to distract him. 

“Don’t worry, it’s me,” Barty said with an immense amount of confidence. 

“Ugh, it couldn’t get worse I guess,” Sirius mumbled as he sat on Remus’ lap. “If you say James I will fucking kill you, Regulus.”

Regulus' eyes widened and a violent blush crept from his neck towards his cheeks, without thinking he snapped his head towards James who was the same shade of crimson as him. Fuck. His reaction had been too noticeable. Everyone around had caught it, especially Sirius. 

“Regulus! Say right now that James does not have the first place in your fucking kissing list!”

Silence. 

“He does…”

The room erupted in a million loud voices laughing, screaming and questions aimed at both him and James. 

When did this happen!? 

How am I not on your list!?

Are you dating!?

Or are you fucking!?

Regulus began feeling dizzy and overwhelmed, he got up the chair to try to breathe but felt his legs falter. He felt familiar hands, calloused hands, warm hands steady him. James.

“It’s okay, baby,” James assured him as his arms wrapped around Regulus’ waist. 

James’ voice brought him back to reality, he saw Sirius approaching and couldn’t help the words that left his mouth with a laugh, “I told you so.”

They never played with veritaserum again.

more microfics here

[luveline]

hi jade !! this is me resending my hotch request bc of ur recent post 🤍 i sent the one about hotch taking care of bau!reader who has a really bad stomachache, thanks so much, i think you’re amazing 💞💞💞

thank you for requesting angel! fem

You do this sad thing with your hands when you're in pain. Aaron wishes he didn't know your tell, that he'd never had reason to understand it, but he does. Your fingers, in particular your pinky, curl toward your palm frenetically, and he has an ample view of your closed off face in the chair opposite. He can pin the moment he knows you're in pain down to the minute twitch of your lip. 

He peeks at Morgan where he lays on the couch before leaning across the table to touch your arm. The jet offers little privacy, so Aaron tries to be delicate. 

“L/N? Are you alright?” 

“Mm,” you hum, too high-pitched to have come out the way you meant it. 

“What's wrong?” 

“Nothing.” You say this, and yet you can't open your eyes, leaning less than subtly away from him as though your pain is catching.

Aaron keeps his head down as he stands so as not to attract attention. You've sat near the wall, leaving an empty seat for him to sit in. “Hey,” he says, touching the crook of your elbow, wanting to fix it, soothe the twitch from your hand, “you're in pain.” 

“It's nothing.” 

“Saying it won't necessarily make it true,” he says. 

“It felt worth trying.” 

He is genuinely perturbed to see you in pain like this without explanation. “You have to tell me what's wrong.” 

“Hotch, I…” you say, your voice wrought with embarrassment as you open your eyes, “it's just my stomach hurts. That's all.” 

“Sharp pains?” 

“Just hurts. Nothing dire.” 

“How do you know?” he asks. 

“Happens sometimes.” 

He puts his arm around you, careful not to jostle your back. You're tense as a rubber band about to snap. It's unlike you to be the more rigid of the two of you, less foreign for Hotch to have softened, especially when it's you. “How often?” he asks, wary of the tears brimming like silver at the corners of your eyes. 

“Just sometimes, I don't know.” You speak in a concise, panicked tenor. 

In this line of work, it could be anything. Not eating enough, not having time to stop for breath. You could be thirsty, sick, anxious, stressed into pain. It could be purely psychosomatic or you could be injured. He can't remember you taking any blows during the last few days away. It could be your period. You might not want to mention that. 

“Y/N,” he says, falling out of boss mode now he's sure it's not going to kill you, and into someone who cares for you, “what can I do?” 

You shudder a breath, slouched under his touch. “It's not that bad.” 

It's clearly a shocking amount of pain. Your shuddering worsens as he pulls you into his side. He's prepared to sit with you until you can give him better instructions, or until the pain passes, or, God forbid, things get worse. “I'm here,” he says, rubbing your arm gently. “Try to breathe.” 

He's wondering why you might think this amount of pain is normal, or acceptable. Wondering why he shouldn't just call for medical assistance here and now, but then you start to come around, your face shining with perspiration. “Oh,” you sigh, wiping your face with your sleeve, leaning into your hand, hiding. 

“Is it getting better?” he asks. 

“I think it's anxiety or something.” Your breath slips out in disjointed huffs. 

He can't guess what it is. Have you been to the doctor? he wants to ask, but perhaps in a moment, when you're steady in yourself again. “From the jet?” 

“No. Maybe.” You frown. 

“Jack doesn't understand that I'm on a plane.” 

You lift your gaze in confusion. Aaron moves onwards.

“He doesn't understand that this is a plane. I brought him by, once, to try to explain why I can't always answer the phone. It's thick metal, you know?” It was an easier explanation than having no signal in the sky. “But he didn't get that it was something that could move. I had to take him to the airport. We watched…” He slows as your eyes meet his completely. “We watched them take off for hours. Now he doesn't get so angry when I don't answer.” 

“Jack was angry?” you ask, half incredulous. 

“A bit.” He tries to string the story together before you can realise what it is he's doing, his arm curling around your from behind, fingers making the most tenuous of circles into the very side of your stomach. A barely there sort of comfort. “It's not like him. He reminds me of his mom when he's angry.” 

Your smile is a physical relief to see. “Does he have tantrums?” 

“Doesn't every kid?” 

You talk about Jack in dulcet tones while he tries to keep the pain at bay, his arm steadfast behind you, your faces closer than they have any platonic business being. He'll pester you into doctors appointments when you touch down, but for now, he just holds you and talks to you like everything is normal. 

You cover his hand with yours when the pain starts anew, talking through it, pain in the soft line of your bottom lip. 

“Am I hurting you?” he asks. You give him a weak smile. He feels awful, but it makes his heart race. So close, and so pretty, and so upset. “Is there anything I can do?” 

An embarrassing amount of weight lies in ‘anything’. You shake your head, whispering, “Nothing. This is enough.” 

Aaron pulls you in closer and wraps both of his arms around you, hiding you from the others, an aimless attempt to protect you from a pain he can't touch. Someone puts a cup of tea on the table for you, but otherwise you're left alone for the rest of the flight. 

[asterlark]

me and den @unloneliest were just talking about murderbot and ART's relationship and i want to discuss how they quite literally complete each other's sensory and emotional experience of the world!!

there's a few great posts on here such as this one about how murderbot uses drones to fully and properly experience the world around it (it also accesses security cameras/other systems for this same purpose). but i haven't seen anyone so far talk about how once MB stops working for the company and consequently doesn't have a hubsystem/secsystem to connect to anymore (which for its entire existence up to that point had been how it was used to interacting with its environment/doing its job), after it meets ART, ART starts to fill that gap.

ART gives MB access to more cameras, systems, and information archives than it would normally be able to connect with while MB is on its own outside of ART's... body(? lol), but also directly gives MB access to its own cameras, drones, archives, facilities, and processing space. additionally, so much of ART's function is dedicated to analysis, lateral thinking, and logical reasoning, and it not only uses those skills in service of reaching murderbot's goals, it teaches murderbot how to use those same skills. (ART might be a bit of an asshole about how it does this, but that doesn't negate just how much it does for murderbot for no reason other than it's bored/interested in MB as an individual.)

we all love goofing about how artificial condition can basically be boiled down to "two robots in a trench coat trying to get through a job interview" (which is entirely accurate tbh) but that's also such a great example of ART fulfilling the role of both murderbot's "hubsystem" and "secsystem", allowing it to fully experience its environment/ succeed in its goals. ART provides MB with crucial information, context, and constructive criticism, and uses its significant processing power to act as MB's backup and support system while they work together.

from ART's side of things, we get a very explicit explanation of how it needs the context of murderbot's emotional reactions to media in order to fully understand and experience the media as intended. it tried to watch media with its humans, and it didn't completely understand just by studying their reactions. but when it's in a feed connection with murderbot, who isn't human but has human neural tissue, ART is finally able to thoroughly process the emotional aspects of media (side note, once it actually understands the emotional stakes in a way that makes sense for it, it's so frightened by the possibility of the fictional ship/crew in worldhoppers being catastrophically injured or killed that it makes murderbot pause for a significant amount of time before it feels prepared to go on. like!! ART really fucking loves its crew, that is all).

looking at things further from ART's perspective: its relationship with murderbot is ostensibly the very first relationship it's been able to establish with not only someone outside of its crew, but also with any construct at all. while ART loves its crew very much (see previous point re: being so so scared for the fate of the fictional crew of worldhoppers), it never had a choice in forming relationships with them. it was quite literally programmed to build those relationships with its crew and students. ART loves its function, its job, and nearly all of the humans that spend time inside of it, but its relationship with murderbot is the first time it's able to choose to make a new friend. that new friend is also someone who, due to its partial machine intelligence, is able to understand and know ART on a whole other level of intimacy that humans simply aren't capable of. (that part goes for murderbot, too, obviously; ART is its first actual friend outside of the presaux team, and its first bot friend ever.)

and because murderbot is murderbot, and not a "nice/polite to ART most of the time" human, this is also one of the first times that ART gets real feedback from a friend about the ways that its actions impact others. after the whole situation in network effect, when the truth of the kidnapping comes to light and murderbot hides in the bathroom refusing to talk to ART (and admittedly ART doesn't handle this well lol) - ART is forced to confront that despite it making the only call it felt able to make in that horrifying situation, despite it thinking that that was the right call, its actions hurt murderbot, and several other humans were caught in the crossfire. what's most scary to ART in that moment is the idea that murderbot might never forgive it, might never want to talk to it again. it's already so attached to this friendship, so concerned with murderbot's wellbeing, that the thought of that friendship being over because of its own behavior is terrifying. (to me, this almost mirrors murderbot's complete emotional collapse when it thinks that ART has been killed. the other more overt mirror is ART fully intending on bombing the colony to get murderbot back.)

in den's words, they both increase the other's capacity to feel: ART by acting as a part of murderbot's sensory system, and murderbot by acting as a means by which ART can access emotion. they love one another so much they would do pretty much anything to keep each other safe/avenge each other, but what's more, they unequivocally make each other more whole.

[flippinpancakes64]

cullens with a drunk reader??

The Cullens with a Drunk Reader

Thank you for requesting and hopefully you like this!

Also quick disclaimer I have never been drunk before so this is just gonna be based on what I've seen in like movies or TV shows

Please tell me if I got something wrong <3

Edward:

He thinks you are hilarious

Whether you're a happy drunk, an angry drunk, or a sad drunk, he loves it all

When he hears your thoughts normally, he can hear all these things that you never say

Well when you're drunk it just sort of all comes out

Is more than happy to help you walk somewhere, get you more to drink, and hold your hair back (if it's long enough)

Eventually though he'll put a stop to it

If it gets to the point where he can't hear any more of your thoughts and knows that you are on the verge of blacking out, he is putting an end to the night

Will hold you close the rest of the night

And he is at your beck and call when you wake up the next morning

Alice:

Again, she thinks you're so funny

Every time that you trip, stumble, or slur your words she is laughing her ass off

Loves listening to whatever you have to say

She would love to take you places or have you try to do stuff

Of course, she wouldn't let you get hurt

But she would find endless amusement out of seeing you fall on the stairs

She's not one to stop your drinking

She has been able to see your future for the whole night

She sees that you are still gonna wake up with a hangover whether you have 5 or 10 drinks

So she just lets you have your fun

Again is preparing stuff for you in the morning though

Jasper:

He gets just a little annoyed

Don't get him wrong he thinks you're amusing

But his idea of a fun Saturday night isn't making sure you don't break something or hurt yourself

So he mostly limits you to one room of the house + an activity

One time he got you to sit still for three hours while you were drunk just coloring in some old coloring book he found laying around

His favorite is karaoke night though

Will put a random sing-along song on the TV and watch you sing for hours

He'll stop you after a while though

With just a simple "okay enough fun go to bed"

Has something made for you to eat when you wake up

Rosalie:

Ok I have some thoughts about this one

We all know her backstory

A group of drunk men + her fiance violently and brutally SA'd her and killed her

So I don't think she would be too fond of alcohol

So you drinking around her would bring up those old memories

She tries not to take it out on you, though

Mostly would just leave the house

She'd be back in the morning though

If you drink excessively though, she would get angry and yell at you about it

But every once in a while she understands

Just don't drink around her

At least not for a while

Emmett:

He loves it

He just finds it so funny

He can tease you endlessly and if you're too drunk all you'll be able to reply with is some slurred nonsense

He's an enabler though

Will challenge you to beer pong and other drinking games

Half of the drinks you take are from him

It's not that he means to get you blackout, it's just that he's having fun and forgets that you can't consume endless amounts of alcohol

He won't put a limit on you though

He would only notice that you need to stop if you pass out of throw up

And then he's in panic recovery mode

Is a little embarrassed and concerned the next morning that he let you get that out of hand

He repeats the cycle though

Esme:

I feel like she'd be a wine girly

Or like a brunch mimosa kinda girl

If she was alive, that is

I feel like that was her when she was alive, anyway

She wouldn't know what to do with someone who is fully drunk

Her past experiences have only been with people who were a little buzzed

She does think you're amusing though

But she'll be a lot more hover-y

Won't let you go anywhere on your own

You are in bed by 12 at the latest

You wake up to a feast and every single headache pill the local pharmacy had

Carlisle:

He's a little more concerned

He has people come into the clinic for alcohol related injuries (overconsumption, drunk driving, various accidents while intoxicated, etc.)

He knows the damage it can cause

Also if you are younger than 21 good try he is not letting you drink

But other than that he is a mama bear

Watching you very closely

Literally counting the ounces of alcohol you have to make sure you stay under a healthy limit

And don't even think about leaving the house

He's a bit too worried to find your shenanigans funny

But that's okay

He makes up for it by being there for you

Bella Swan:

Another one who is just amused

She never got out much

She regrets never having drank alcohol while it could still affect her

Unfortunately that means she does live a little vicariously through you

Is playing bartender and giving you everything she makes

They're pretty bad

But you still drink them

Doesn't realize she's given you too much until you literally fall to the floor and pass out

Then she's like "oh shit"

Doesn't really know what to do though

So she has Carlisle take care of you

Apologizes profusely the next morning

Would still do it again though

[sabertoothwalrus]

OK PREFACING WITH IM SORRY IF I ALREADY SENT THIS EXACT ASK BUT MY WIFI KILLED ITSSLF AS I SENT IT SO IDK IF IT ACTUALLY WENT THROUGH. but in case it didn’t . i know youve gotten this countless times in the past because i blog stalked just in case youve mentioned something similar before but i need to know if you have any specific inspirations when you draw exaggerated expressions specifically like these two images of marcille. ive actually cried laughing over this comic and being able to communicate this type of visceral emotion is such an insane skill and ive followed your art for probably close to a decade through various fandoms so watching you develop this style has been fucking awesome and epic. like i cannot articulate how funny these are to me i just need you to understand i look at this comic to inspire me to draw now. the closest comparison i can draw to the feelings they evoke are like those mspaint reaction images and also mspaint tails i included for reference even though you probably know exactly what im talking about anyways but its actually so much harder to do that intentionally when you study art. also i lied you literally don’t even need to answer this i just had to let you know how obsessed i am over your silly comics and now ive written out a whole ass discussion post about it. im sorry if this is weird at all i think my daily prescribed amphetamines r wearing off and i know this is such a dumb specific thing to fixate on and im so sorry if its not something you want to hear about your art. ive just always seen that as an artist this type of expressive stupid silly style is something that comes after a significant amount of time and practice and study and style development despite being “simple” in theory. its just so cool to have worked with your own style so much that youre able to go “off model” from it and still maintain consistency with the rest of the piece. i said it already and im sorry this is actually rendundant now but the ability to communicate such raw emotion somehow decreases from at its height when someone is a beginner artist learning how to proportion and keep a steady line and what looks “normal” but somehow it all comes full circle because taking all that experience and using it to almost return to where you started but in a fully informed and intentional way so you can make choices to draw characters like this when the situation calls for it is just dhcidogakgoshfhw. i think i need to cut myself off or im going to talk in circles im sorry tumblr user sabertoothwalrus i just am fascinated by your style and progress and the years you’ve dedicated to art can be seen in so many places but this is just one that stands out to me specifically.

MMMMM what a fun question!!!

I'm not gonna lie, I think it's just Letting A Drawing Be Bad. I definitely think the people that struggle with this the most are people who have genuinely very pretty art styles, to the point of being kind of perfectionist about it. and to Draw Funny often means Drawing Fast and Weird. Pretty is kind of the antithesis of funny (unless being pretty is the punchline). do drawings that make yourself laugh. tracing/lining funny sketches almost always makes them less funny.

one of my favorite types of humor is when it skews more deadpan, actually. This is one of the reasons I love Adventure Time. minimal expressions and flat line delivery + absurd context is a really good combo. the key to comedy has more to do with contrast! if your drawings are allllll crazy ren & stimpy all the time, they're not funny anymore cause it's just "normal". if it's all subdued UNTIL it's extreme, and vice versa, then it's funny. The reason this comic is so funny is because of the complete lack of any expression. I feel like the one you sent of Marcille shouting "WHAT" is funnier when you know how much she tries to be dainty and feminine and delicate, how much she values her appearance, and how averse she is to "gross" or "weird" things.

something I find really annoying (and this is with comics/animation in general, not the expressions themselves) is when the joke goes on for too long. Like you'll have the joke, then the punchline, and THEN the characters reacting to the punchline??? Like the author didn't trust that their audience would find the joke funny, so they basically drew in a laugh track. But, this is distinct from a character's reaction being the punchline (like how the examples you gave from my Marcille comic are). MY POINT IS sometimes expressions aren't as funny on their own as you think, and context can affect how you feel about it!

as far as inspirations go!

my own face! even if I don't have a mirror, I like making the expressions myself so I can "feel" where the points of tension on my face are, and it gives me a sense of what to exaggerate.

my brother's art, believe it or not! we've been trying to make each other laugh with our drawings since we were kids, and he's really good at it.

ATLA has some great expressions

OK KO has been a reallyyyy good source for me lately. That show is so tailored to my sense of humor and the expressions and line deliveries feel exactly like the kinds of things I'd come up with. The tone, timing, and art style are all really close to the tv show pitch I'm working on, so when I feel like I've "strayed" too much from it (like after drawing a bunch of dungeon meshi, and my art feels tighter and... idk "manga-ier"?) I like to go and watch a couple episodes of OK KO to loosen back up

A lot of things like OG Spongebob, Calvin & Hobbes, the Simpsons, Chowder, etc etc

memes in general. if it makes you laugh, keep it in mind

and lastly, I wouldn't say I ever try to mimic funny expressions I see. Like if I watch a show for inspo, I'm not pausing it to copy specific drawings, I'm just trying to notice patterns and pay attention to what about it I find funny.

talking about being funny is really bizarre and I dunno if it makes it lose some of the magic. Ultimately it's something you can't think about too much, and just gotta go with your gut.

[mentos-or-mentoes]

Hihi Pooks, I love your writing and was wondering if you would write for a Mitsuri!reader, like a reader who looks quite weak (IS FEMALE as mitsuri is a female) but is INSANELY strong and quite flexible (which breaks the stereotype of ‘women aren’t strong’). (Helluva boss x Mitsuri!reader) reader who can eat LOADS while staying fit bc yk she’s strong and exercises regularly but could definitely rival a sin with her strength and probably could do some magic with the ‘power of love’ typa shit

yes I mean Mitsuri from demon slayer.

Sorry it took me so long to do this! I had to move, then completely forgot I had a tumblr blog. And now after somewhat of a midlife crisis I have just realized that I infact DO have a tumblr blog. So ye, I apologise for keeping you waiting for so long

I.M.P & Stolas x Mitsuri!reader

Blitzo

First of all, this dude thinks your strength is HOT (take that however you want).

He thinks you're kind, yet knows that if you really wanted to, you could probably beat Lucifer himself in a fight.

Blitzo definetly can, will and has fucked around with your whip-like nichirin sword, but will stop the second you tell him to, well if its serious, if not then he'll keep goofing around untill he manages to destroy something.

He once walked in on you eating what can only be described as a 3 course meal that would be served at a thanksgiving dinner. He is both surprised, and horrified once he finds out that it is the normal amount of food for you because of your extremem muscle density.

Once tried to challenge you to an arm wrestle match just to see how he could compare, and that day he found out that you had an absolutely insane physical strength after winning with just your pinky finger. He will do everything to hide that fact

He has definetly said some stupid threat like ''My grilfriend will beat *hiccup* your ass if I *hiccup* don't'' to someone in a bar while drunk

Moxxie

Being the most realistic out of all of the employees at I.M.P, Moxxie is outright terrified of your strength.

He can and will try to keep you happy, already wanting to hide in fear at just the thought of you having a bad day.

No matter how much you re-assure him, its gonna take a while before he actually begins to think you wont kill someone whenever you feel angry.

He thinks its both impressive and weird how that you can eat so much food without even gaining as much as a miligram. He won't comment on that tho.

He is very curious as to how your weapon works. Y'know since its metal, yet can be used as a whip.

Millie

She thinks your weapon is incredibly cool, and encourages you to use it more often.

She's asked you about how well you think you'd do with other weapons as well.

Either way will still love you, regardless of your choice of weapon <3

You two are a power couple and you can't convince me otherwise (two strong women who can and will kick the ass of anyone who disrespects them in any way, shape or form).

She loves your power of love magic, especially because part of her thinks it becomes stronger with the love you two have for eachother

Loona

This legit feels like the fandom classic of shipping the two characters who are the exact opposite.

She secretly really loves your whole power of love thing, even if she says otherwise.

Has probably jokingly asked you to punch Blitzo one time because he really annoyed her.

She will blush MADLY if you decide to pick her up and just carry her around, but if its in private, she won't complain.

She loves seeing you use your strength in combat.

Stolas

Like Moxxie, Stolas is scared as fuck.

He can and will do EVERYTHING to avoid you when you're angry.

You can convince him, that you're not going to hurt him. But the last thing Stolas is trying to do is becoming bbq chicken because he decided to approach you while you were angry, so no risks

He likes how strong you are, makes him feel safe. Mostly because you'll kick the ass of anyone who dares try to hurt him.

He was surprised when your power of love wasn't some sort of magic to make others fall in love, but is quite literally love turned into raw power.

This 100% isn't worth the wait, sorry it took me so long. But hope it was, somewhat decent, am willing to do a part 2 tho

[thebiggerbear]

Close Enough

Summary: When you'd met the Shaws at the morgue the day before, you thought that had been the end of it and you wouldn't need to see one Shaw brother in particular again. Little did you know that Colter was about to once again ask for your help and not only would you be forced to see Russell again but things were about to change drastically for the both of you.

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader; Russell Shaw x Female!FBI Special Agent!Reader

A/N: Sequel to So Close. I wanted to follow up and reveal what happened between Russell and the reader in the past but as I was writing it, this idea popped into my head in addition to that and I just had to see where it went. This was the end result lol. Hope it's okay.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. I still have not seen Tracker (besides 1x12) because I just haven't had the time for a proper binge yet so if I got some things wrong about Colter and his experience in the show, I apologize.

A little disclaimer: I have never worked in law enforcement so I tried to piece together things I’ve seen and heard in true crime documentaries and podcasts alongside with movies/tv and books. I apologize for any inconsistencies, incorrect information, exaggerations, or complete fallacies. Basically, I made shit up.

Songs I listened to while writing: Somebody That I Used to Know by Gotye; Easy Loving by Loretta Lynn & Conway Twitty; Sweet Dreams by Patsy Cline; Sounds of Someday by Radio Company

Warnings: sanctioned assassination; death; gun violence; graphic description of killing; violence/blood mention; mention of dead bodies; arson; implied sex; a trace amount of smut(ish?); language

Word Count: 16K+

Russell Taglist: @deangirl96 (I hope you don't mind me tagging you in this one; this is going to lead into the series that I mentioned on "So Close"); @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

This work was recc'ed by @winchestergirl2 here.

Your phone started to buzz and you glanced at the screen, rolling your eyes and letting out a sigh before picking up. That wasn’t the normal reaction you would have to seeing Colter’s name pop up on your phone but ever since that mess back at the morgue yesterday, you had been hoping he wouldn’t contact you again. At least not until his brother went back to whatever hole he’d crawled out of. But now it looked like that had been a fool’s hope, on both counts.

“You what?” You hissed.

“We’re about to head to this home in the Blue Ridge Mountains and go in to get Doug,” he repeated.

“I’m sorry, an incredible amount of stupid just sounded in my ear. Can you repeat that?”

“Reenie got me the location and it’s solid intel.” He lowered his voice. “Look, I thought we should get law enforcement involved, alright? But there’s a…valid reason why Russ doesn’t want to call them that I can’t get into right now.”

“Whoops, more stupid. One more time?”

Colter groaned into the phone. “Come on, Y/N.”

“I’m serious, Colter. What the hell are either of you think—wait, scratch that. What the hell are you thinking? Going into a dangerous location like that without any backup? If Carlos Solano found your missing man in a safehouse, do you think he won’t be armed to the teeth? That he won’t have guards patrolling the compound that you’re walking right into? That he won’t see something like this coming? You guys are walking right into a shitstorm.” Christ, you loved the guy like a long-lost brother that you sometimes kept in touch with but if he were in front of you right now, you would’ve delivered one good smack to the back of his head to get him thinking straight. Colter may know his way around a gun, but he wasn’t someone who had formal training or combat experience like Russell did. He didn’t even have your training and you wouldn’t be going in there kamikaze-style like they were.

“That’s why I’m calling you and asking you to meet us there. I’m not exactly calling in law enforcement but we’ll have one more person to watch our backs and help us search for Doug. And who better than a special agent with the FBI?”

You sat back in your chair, shaking your head but thinking it over. This was beyond stupid and you shouldn’t be encouraging it. Russell’s involvement in this idiot plan didn’t surprise you; Colter’s did. He knew better. But you also knew that if he thought he had a chance to get the missing guy back home safely, he was going to take it, no matter the personal risk. If you didn’t go like he asked and anything happened to him or Russell, you’d never forgive yourself.

“Please?” 

You pinched the bridge of your nose between your thumb and forefinger, your decision made. “Send me the location and I’ll leave now to meet you.”

“Thank you.” You could hear the genuine gratitude in his tone. “I promise I’ll explain everything.”

“You better,” you nearly growled before disconnecting the call. You had a feeling you knew what he was going to tell you but for his sake, you hoped it wasn’t anything close to what you were thinking. But why else would Russell not want to call law enforcement for help in rescuing his friend who had been taken hostage by a foreign criminal? God, you hoped you were wrong.

You let out another loud sigh and before you could stand, your phone started ringing again. When you glanced at the screen, instead of a name, you saw “Blocked”. Not good.

You swiped green, holding it to your ear. “Y/L/N.”

“We have a problem,” said the voice on the other end, one you knew all too well, and it didn't sound happy. Shit.

You watched as Colter’s truck pulled up alongside your car. Colter got out and noticed you leaning against your trunk, arms crossed and a scowl in place. Russell came around from the other side. 

“Either of you boys see two suicidal idiots around here? Oh, wait.”

Russell’s jaw tightened. “It wasn’t my idea to call you.” He slid a glare over to his brother. 

“You’re lucky he did,” you snapped. “And since I’m here,” You got to your feet and turned to open your trunk, revealing a smorgasbord of gear and weapons. “We’re going to be doing this my way.” You held out a bulletproof vest to Colter first and he immediately started to strap it on. You held one out to Russell but he shook his head and didn’t take it. You glanced over to find he had already put his own on while you’d been grabbing one for his brother.

“Okay, look,” Russell started, his eyes scanning your makeshift armory and setting your teeth on edge. “This isn’t some FBI raid of some drug gang. This guy, Carlos Solano, he’s the real deal. He’s as dangerous as they come.”

You could feel your irritation turning into anger at the suggestion that you didn’t know how serious this was, and from him of all people. “And what am I? Some part-time mall security guard? A receptionist at the Academy? I’ve dealt with cartels before and they’re as dangerous as they come, too. So take that mansplaining and shove it right up where the sun doesn't shine.”

Russell took a step closer and laid a hand on your shoulder, his eyes burning into you. “Be pissed at me all you want but I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“But you’re okay with your brother getting hurt?” You briefly glanced in Colter’s direction. The younger man was watching you two carefully as he adjusted his vest one last time, wisely choosing to stay out of this one. 

Russell’s jaw clenched and he dropped his hand. “I’ve got him.”

You snorted and grabbed a gun, loading it quickly. “And I’ve got both of you. Now, we’ve got a bit of a hike so let’s cut the chit chat and get this over with, shall we?” You motioned for Colter to turn around and you inserted an extra handgun into the back of his belt. “We stick together as a unit. You hear me? No wandering off alone.”

Colter faced you again. “Yes, Mom,” he teased.

You swatted at his shoulder before checking the fit of his vest, nodding in approval.

“I have done this before, you know.”

You knew that already. You’d been there with him a couple of times for such instances. “Good for you,” you quipped. “But for kicks, how about you just humor me?”

He rolled his eyes and you smirked, turning to slam the trunk shut. You glanced up to find Russell watching you, his jaw still tight but his eyes containing a familiar light that you hadn’t seen in a while. “You good?”

“Yep.” And just like that, the light hollowed out, replaced by something far colder yet familiar, but not because you’d seen it in his gaze. You’d seen it often enough in your own when looking into the mirror. 

Pushing that thought away and shifting focus, you began to lead the way into the trees. “Alright, let’s do this and get Doug home in time for breakfast.” Colter flanked you on your right while Russell came up on your left. 

“Let’s rock and roll,” he agreed. 

It hadn’t been as bad as you’d been expecting, even after you’d received the intel Colter had referred to on the phone. One guard and three henchmen. You were annoyed and almost insulted that they had presented so little a challenge considering Carlos Solano was supposed to be this big bad criminal. But when you glanced over and saw Colter looking over Russell’s bloody jacket sleeve, you regretted the thought and gratitude immediately filled you that things hadn’t been worse. Russell had taken a bullet to the arm and thankfully, it had passed right through. 

Before you could shoot the bastard that shot him, Colter and Russell were on it. You watched in awe as the brothers moved as a single unit, almost as if they hadn’t been strained or missed a beat over the years. You supposed you should be happy that they were working together rather than still arguing over shit from a lifetime ago that had torn their family apart. For Colter’s sake at least.

Just then, you heard what sounded like a small plane outside. You hurried to a window and glanced outside, seeing a rapidly descending charter plane aiming for the tiny landing strip in the back of the property. Right on time.

You let the curtain fall and looked back at the guys. “Time to go.”

Doug’s face was ashen while Colter and Russell exchanged glances. Immediately, Russell picked up his gun and got ready to leave the room.

You rushed to stop him. “There will be none of that!” 

“You guys get Doug back to the truck. I’ll handle this.”

You practically jogged around him, planting yourself in his path. “Not happening.”

He glared down at you. “Y/N, I need to close this up. Move.”

You scowled right back. “You’ve been shot.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I have to finish this.”

You refused to budge. “You are not finishing anything. You’re getting the hell out of here, that’s what you’re doing.” 

“Y/N—”

“Guys, not the time,” Colter interceded. “He’s getting off that plane any second now, so what’s the plan?”

“She’s right, man,” Doug added, making both of your gazes snap over at him. “We really need to go.”

Voices suddenly sounded outside and you all glanced towards the window.

“Shit,” you muttered, quickly checking the chamber on your gun. As you were about to head out of the room, a hand grasped gently under your chin and forced your eyes to meet Russell’s. You could see the pleading there but also a stone-cold resignation. “Go with Colter and Doug,” he urged, giving you a brief but strained smile. “I need you to go.” You felt the rough skin of his thumb on your cheek as he moved it tenderly back and forth.

You knew what he was really telling you, what he planned to do, but hell if you weren’t more infuriated with him. You were so sick of the self-sacrificial bullshit. Hadn’t it cost you enough? Cost you both?

You pulled away from him, giving him a glare. “I don’t think you understand,” you said in a tone so cold you were pretty sure you could give the winds in Antarctica a run for their money. “I’m taking Solano in and I am not leaving until I have my suspect alive and in custody.” Russell looked pissed but you couldn’t care less. Better than him being dead in the next two minutes.

You turned to face Colter and Doug so they also got the message. “This case is under Federal jurisdiction now.” Colter glanced between you and his brother who you turned back to face. “I’m bringing him in. Got it?”

Russell went to say something but didn’t get the chance. The sounds of gunfire erupted right outside the room and you all had to duck for cover. 

You secured your handcuffs around Carlos Solano’s wrists that had been forced behind his back once you shoved him into the chair in the room, purposely tightening the metal bracelets past the point of comfort. The man reacted, cursing you out as you smirked up at him. 

Getting to your feet, you focused on the Shaws and Doug. Russell watched you with a glare while Colter waited for you to speak. Doug looked downright terrified. They had helped you to take down Solano’s men who had flown with him — all three of them. Russell aimed for Solano but at the last second, you got in his way and tackled the criminal to the ground. Needless to say, he wasn’t happy with you. Oh well. The feeling was mutual.

Colter placed his hands on his hips. “Alright, so how are we getting him back to the truck? Are we just going to drag him through the woods and hope we don’t come across anybody else he might have coming here? How are we going to work this?”

You slipped your gun back into your holster. “He doesn’t have anyone else coming here and the plan is that you three are going to head back to the truck and get out of here. I’m going to wait for a pickup,” You gestured towards the window with your thumb where the landing strip could be seen. “They’re nearby, waiting for my call, and they won’t take long to get here.” You shook your phone in your hand, indicating you were going to be using it.

Russell glanced around, as if expecting Agents to start popping up out of the woodworks at any second, before his eyes settled back on you. “So you called this in after all?”

You shrugged. “You were going into a fully armed compound to rescue a hostage, a two-man team against a crime lord on the FBI’s Most Wanted list? Yeah, of course, I did.”

He shook his head, chuckling and muttering a curse under his breath. “Of course you did,” he echoed, shooting a look over at his brother. 

Colter’s gaze flickered back to you. “We’ll wait with you until they get here.”

You offered up a small smile. “I appreciate it but not necessary. I’ve got this until they get here and I do the handover.”

“But—”

“Look, you should get Doug out of here.” You inclined your head in the direction of the man who was staring dazedly at the floor. “You need to get him checked out and your brother should get his arm looked at.”

“I’m fine,” Russell interjected.

You ignored him. “I’ll be alright, Colter. Believe it or not, you tend to get experience with this kind of thing once or twice before becoming a Special Agent.” You meant it as a light-hearted reassurance but you could tell that both Shaw brothers were going to be a hard sell. At least Colter’s reasoning was up front and above board.

“I’m sure but I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone. Not with him.” Colter gestured towards Solano who spit in his direction.

“I won’t be for long. But you guys need to get out of here. The Bureau can’t know you were involved in this.” You shot him a meaningful look. “For multiple reasons.”

The younger man looked as if he was going to protest again when you held up a hand. “Colter. You may not like it but you need to do as I’m telling you. If the Bureau finds any of you here…” You could tell that he didn’t care so much about himself but you let your eyes briefly flick in Russell’s direction, who was busy glaring at the man you had bound to the chair. You saw Colter’s expression immediately change and you knew you had succeeded in convincing him to vacate the area as soon as possible.

He nodded his head in assent. “Okay.” He laid a hand on Doug’s shoulder, prompting the man to look up at him, and urged him to start moving to the door.

“Okay? What do you mean okay?” Russell huffed.

Colter held up a hand. “Russell—”

“No.” Russell turned a glare on you. “Not okay. He’s a loose end that needs tying up. He knows who we are now, he came after Doug, and the FBI isn’t going to do shit with him.” You narrowed your eyes in a glare but he continued. “That’s not an insult. It’s the truth and you know it. They’re going to what? Get him to talk, to roll over on someone else he has connections to who’s higher up their food chain, and he gets off scot free? No, not happening on my watch.” 

He took a step forward and so did you, in front of Solano. You drew your gun but held it loosely across your waist, your finger on the trigger, ready and waiting should you need it. Russell stopped cold, his eyes flickering back and forth between you and the weapon in your hand. Colter and Doug were frozen, watching the scene unfold.

“I told you,” you said in the most deadly serious tone you could muster. “I’m taking him in, alive. If you have a problem with that, well…” You flipped the safety on the gun off. “You’ll have to go through me. And I promise you, my aim is a hell of a lot more accurate at close range than it’s ever been.”

Russell didn’t blink, he just kept scowling at you.

“Russ?” Colter called.

“Don’t make me kill you in front of him, Russell,” you murmured so only the two of you would hear. You were serious as a heart attack. No matter how you had felt about him once upon a time, this was important enough for you to make good on your threat if you needed to.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would and it will be justified by the higher ups as protection of a high-valued target before your body goes cold.” You hated saying the words but it was nothing but the truth that you spoke. You hoped he heard the message underneath your words: walk away, this isn’t worth dying over. “And he’ll be further traumatized,” you inclined your head in Colter’s direction. “Losing his brother right in front of him, just like he lost his dad.” You knew that was a severely low blow but he also needed to hear you. 

As expected, Russell’s jaw clenched and you saw a twitch in the good arm he had, the one that was holding his gun. “Don’t be stupid and do that to him,” you warned. “Walk away.”

That cold look was back in his eyes again. You mentally prepared yourself for what was about to go down. You had hoped he wouldn’t force your hand but then again, Russell Shaw had always been the epitome of stubborn, usually to his own detriment…and yours.   

“Russell?” Colter tried again.

“Russ, come on, man. Let it be for now,” Doug added in, trying to help. “And let’s regroup.”

This time, Russell appeared to hear them both, his gaze breaking from yours momentarily, flickering over Solano behind you, who was laughing and smirking in the former’s direction, clearly enjoying the standoff over him. 

Russell’s eyes met yours again but this time, there was nothing familiar about the green you used to stare into when he’d sway with you on the dance floor to a slow song playing overhead or when you’d both wear matching sated grins and laugh, a pleasant exhaustion overtaking you as he pulled you into his arms in a motel bed. It was almost like staring into a dark void and you couldn’t help but wonder how often that void showed up during war or if the war created it — the old chicken or the egg question. Either way, you knew you’d succeeded in convincing him to leave, but you’d also have to watch yourself. There was no warmth left in those jade-colored orbs when they focused on you. You’d done your work well; you’d crossed a line that you could never go back from.

“Alright,” he capitulated, loud enough that the two men near the doorway heard him. He relaxed his arm and slipped his gun into a pocket in his vest. His face lightened a little and a strained smile worked its way across his face. He glanced back at his brother. “She’s right. We should get Doug out of here.” He turned back to face you, his smile fading. “She’s got this.” He then glanced in Solano’s direction, smirking right back. “I’ll see you soon,” he promised, giving him a finger gun and winking, before his expression became stone once more and he walked away, glaring at you as he did.

You lifted your chin, not reacting in the slightest, until Solano shouted out, “You’ll be seeing me? No, puta, I’ll be seeing you. You’ll never see it coming, you hear me? You’ll never see it co—” You spun a few degrees and pistol-whipped him, causing the jackass to cry out in pain before you turned back to face Doug and the two most important men in your life. “Get going,” you growled out, lifting your phone with your other hand as a subtle threat.

Colter gave you a nod, the concern still there in his dark brown gaze as he led Doug out the door. Russell’s eyes never left you, even when he walked out the door a moment later, following his little brother’s lead. You never looked away even when he was past the threshold. 

You ignored Solano’s yelling threats and kept your eyes on the spot you had last seen the Shaws disappear through a few minutes longer than needed, tense and ready in case Russell decided to double back. Though you highly doubted he’d come at you from the same angle. A part of you was making sure you stayed prepared in case there was an ambush, yes, but another part of you knew your gaze was lingering on the spot because you knew things had now drastically changed between you and Russell forever. He would never forgive your threats and you would never forgive yourself for having to make them. Though that remorse was more related to Colter than his brother. Regardless, when it came to the Shaws now, you were fucked. Not even Dory would want to hear from you, not that she had all that much before, but now it was definitely a no go. And that saddened you tremendously.

Hearing more of Solano’s threats, you recentered your focus on the task at hand and prepared to wait, giving him one more pistol whip for good measure, before you settled in and kept both eyes and ears open for any possible ambush that might come your way before you could finish up here. 

You leaned against the workstation next to the chair, waiting, gun still in hand and your eyes focused on it. You had waited a certain amount of time to allow the boys to get out of the area.

“The soldado was right, you know. They’re not going to hold me,” Solano bragged.

You briefly closed your eyes in annoyance. He had been talking ever since you were left alone with him. He had offered you money to let him go, offered you riches and power that you knew for a fact he had no business offering. He even had the nerve to propose making you one of his new lieutenants, citing your fighting skills and gun handling that he’d briefly witnessed. He knew you would be able to protect him because you had from the asesinos who had killed his brother. He then changed tactics, threatening you, your loved ones, the men who just left…now, he was boasting about how he would walk free and whatever charges were thrown at him wouldn’t stick. You just wished he would shut the hell up already. Needless to say, it had been a long twenty minutes. You now understood why his brother had been the businessman and he was only the muscle willing to do the dirty work. His bargaining skills were for shit, not that it mattered in the scheme of things. No deals were being made today.

“I offer them a little bit of money and they’ll just make the case go away. Just like that.”

You checked your watch. Twenty two minutes now. That was good enough. You slowly got to your feet and moved past him to look out the window. You had purposely moved his chair out of the sight of the glass, in case Russell got any ideas.

“That’s how it works here in America. Everybody knows that. If the criminals have money and power, they don’t stay in jail.”

You ignored him, glancing around to see if there was any movement outside. You didn’t see any. 

“They won’t keep me locked up. They weren’t able to in my home country. What makes you think they’ll be able to here? Where corruption is ripe and anyone can be bought? And then I’ll be coming for you and for your friends. You will wish for death long before I am through with you.”

You made your way to another window, lifting the curtain and looking around. Still nothing.

“There’s no point in bringing me to jail. It will never hold me.”

You lowered the curtain and squared your shoulders, turning to face his direction. You focused on him, staring right into his eyes. “You know, I think you’re right.”

Solano seemed pleasantly surprised for a moment, thinking you were finally stupid enough to take one of his offers, before his eyes narrowed with realization. “No, wait—”

You quickly lifted your gun and squeezed off a round. His head snapped back from the force and the space behind him was spattered with red among other things. One glance confirmed your aim had been accurate; he was dead. Right through the eye. What you’d said to Russell earlier hadn’t been an exaggeration; you were much more accurate at close range than you’d ever been.

You slipped a pair of gloves on that you pulled from your pants pocket and immediately started unzipping the small compartments on the side of your vest where you usually kept extra ammo in a raid, pulling out small white bottles that weren’t sporting any labels. You began to squirt the liquid from inside them all around the room, dousing Solano’s body with a healthy amount.

You continued into the house, having quite a few bottles of lighter fluid to empty out in specific areas that would help achieve your goal. Arson wasn’t your preferred route but it did get rid of pesky little things like hair and DNA, and what it didn’t, it contaminated which would make it harder for not only law enforcement but the justice system to work with. Though you weren’t too worried about either looking at this particular house fire too closely.

You didn’t bother collecting any bullet casings, knowing that your gun and the ones you’d given Colter to use would be untraceable even if they somehow managed to get a hold of any of the weapons (which they wouldn’t). And Russell’s gun…you figured he had that handled. The only thing you did collect were your handcuffs. 

You also didn’t bother staging anything for the scene. There was already enough evidence that pointed to the theory that Solano’s own men had turned on him and a gunfight ensued, resulting in the multiple dead bodies. While an arson specialist would most likely be able to tell that an accelerant had been used, there was no way for them to confirm just who had been present for this battle and who had gotten away. Satellite imagery would be shoddy at best due to the foliage cover (and eventual smoke) but still, you planned to set the fire and make your getaway out the back, crossing over the landing strip so if they went back to look for any heat signatures after the fire started, it would be one person leaving the scene alive, the person they would assume had started the blaze. There were no nearby neighbors to immediately call first responders but that didn’t mean smoke wouldn’t be seen from the sky from miles away or that a fiery orange blaze in the distance wouldn’t be noticed by residents of another vacation home or cars traveling the backroads in the area. Since you planned to go into the deep woods and take the long roundabout route back to your car, you weren’t too worried about your path being followed.

Once you had completed all of your tasks, you used the fireplace to help, moving the grate out of the way, starting a fire, and then knocking a fiery log onto the wooden flooring. You used a lighter to set flammable materials that you could find to add to the flames. Only when the room was nearly engulfed did you finally slip a beanie from your pocket, cover your head fully, and make your way out of the house. Once at the landing strip, you ducked under the plane, making sure you couldn’t be seen from above. 

You watched as the flames consumed the house. Once the smoke was sufficient, flames were ragings out of the windows, and the sound of breaking glass could be heard, you knew it was time for you to vacate the vicinity before the sirens started up. It was fortunate that most people were asleep at this hour but the sun was due to come up not too long from now and you had a long trek ahead of you, so you needed to get moving.

You kept your head down and made your way into the woods surrounding the property line. 

The sun was breaching the horizon and quickly warming the sky by the time you made it back to your car. You were relieved that Colter’s truck was gone and you needed to quickly make tracks as well. Sirens had started up an hour ago and you needed to get the hell out of Dodge before the cops were all over these roads. You tossed your weapons and vest into the trunk and got in the car. You slipped your beanie off your head, tossing it onto the seat next to you, and started the engine.

Just as you had expected, cops were everywhere but thankfully, you had timed it just right and gotten out before they could block all of the mountain roads. Once you were back in town a few hours later and a certain distance away, you pulled a phone out of your glove compartment you kept there for emergencies and turned it on. You pressed a button and it immediately dialed the number programmed — the only number you had saved on this device. 

It rang once before the same voice from yesterday picked up. “Is it done?”

“We’re clear,” you confirmed. “It’s been handled.”

“Shaw?”

Your jaw clenched. You knew that despite how you and Russell had left things earlier, you would do whatever it took to keep him breathing. “He’s a soldier. He follows orders.”

“He wasn’t so willing to follow orders in this situation.”

“You know what they’re taught. Leave no man behind. He got his man so he’ll be fine. Things can go back to how they were. He’s not going to be an issue and he’s clean, just like you wanted.”

And then you were asked the one question you didn’t want to hear. “And the brother? What’s your assessment?”

The knuckles of your free hand gripped your steering wheel so tightly that you could see how white your skin turned from the pressure. “Non-issue. He has no interest in you.”

“He seemed interested yesterday.”

You forced yourself to remain calm and nonchalant. “He’s paid to be nosy when someone goes missing so he can get them found. He found who he was looking for, he was able to keep the promise to the guy’s wife — it’s over for him. The case is closed, it’s as simple as that for him. He’s no threat.”

You waited to hear a response, holding your breath and your hand gripping the wheel even tighter, your body tensed. This would be what decided your fate. Either you would be allowed to go on as before or you’d be going on a mission up against one of the top private security contractor firms in the world which wouldn’t end well for you. But you’d take out whoever you could with you before you were killed.

Another moment passed before the voice replied, “Understood.”

Your body relaxed slightly and your shoulders sunk in relief. Colter was safe. Russell was safe…for now. And you didn’t have to go all Rambo Kamikaze on anyone. Win-win all around.

“I’ll let the higher ups know the situation has been contained. Good work. We’ll be in touch.”

Without waiting for a response from you, the call disconnected. You quickly shut the phone off and tossed it back into its original spot. You let out a deep breath and the exhaustion from the past twelve hours immediately overtook your body. Deciding that returning to your place was not an option for you right now, you headed to another part of town, parked your car on the street some blocks away to the nearest motel, and using a baseball cap to cover your hair along with sunglasses, you hoofed it and then booked a room, paying cash and using a fake name. Once you set up everything you needed to in your quarters, you slipped onto the mattress and got some much needed rest, keeping your gun under your pillow within reach should you need it.

You pulled up to Colter’s trailer, watching as he stepped outside to greet you. You put your car in park, took a deep breath, and got out. You offered Colter a small smile. “Hey.”

He returned it. “Hey.”

You had been surprised when Colter called you a few days later to let you know he was still in town for a bit and invited you to drop by for a beer. Not surprised that he was still around (you already knew that) but surprised that he even wanted to speak to you. Perhaps Russell hadn’t told him what you’d threatened back in the mountains.

You took the beer he offered to you and followed him over to the firepit, taking a seat on one of the coolers. He sat nearby and held up his bottle in a toast. You mirrored him and then you both took a sip. You nearly sighed in satisfaction as the carbonated beverage slid down your throat. You enjoyed the taste and checked the label. “Mmm, home brew…not bad. You got something you want to tell me? Planning on opening some sort of brewery outfit anytime soon?” You were teasing but if Colter really was thinking of doing something else — anything else — instead of his current job, you’d fully support it.

“Not me.” Disappointment flared in your chest, your hope dashed. “Russ was actually the one who made it. I had some left over from the other night.”

The beer suddenly began to sour in your stomach. Well, you supposed it was good that Russell was starting to think of the future, the most important part of that being that there would be one. It still burned a bit, though.

You decided to change the subject so you wouldn’t have to think about that right then. “So, your guy is back home safe?”

Colter nodded. “Dropped him off myself.” Something else you already knew but you had to keep up appearances.

You nodded, biting your lip and staring into the flames. “And your brother?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Colter’s jaw tense for a moment. “Gone.” Though you had an idea that was the case, Colter’s confirmation still stung, like someone poking a finger into an old wound after ripping the scar tissue away. But what else had you expected? This was Russell Shaw you two were talking about after all.

You snorted and shook your head, taking another swig of beer. “Of course he is.”

He turned to look at you. “You know, you never told me what happened between you two.”

You shrugged a shoulder. “Not worth going into, trust me.”

Thankfully, Colter left it alone and he rolled with it when you brought up a different topic instead. 

“So, how much longer are you here for?”

“Teddi and Velma are working on that right now actually. Hopefully, something pops up soon.” He took another sip of beer, turning to gaze at the flames as well.

“It will.” Fortunately for him and sadly for others, someone would always go missing.

“How about you? Are they sending you somewhere for a new case or are they going to let you stay local for a bit? If it’s the latter, maybe you could get a dog for that place of yours?”

You smirked and ran your thumb down the smooth glass of the brown bottle in your hand. Colter kept teasing you about the residence you maintained nearby considering you were never really there most of the time. He’d then extoll the virtues of living on the open road, not having roots put down anywhere that would grow into expectations, and the unrestrained thrill of it all. The first time you’d had that conversation, you knew then that the desire to keep moving and stay unburdened must be a male Shaw thing. Dory seemed happy where she had settled and you — you wanted a home base. Some place you could come back to where you were still able to connect to yourself again, no matter how lost at sea you might be at times, no matter how much you felt as if every single piece of you was floating away on the wind until only a monster was left standing there, staring back at you in the rearview mirror of your car.

“Right now, I have a few things I need to close up,” you lied. “Then I’ll probably get sent out in the field again to work some cases.” You hated lying to him but you had no choice. His safety came first. As much as you had hated Russell for a time, you could now appreciate the difficult position he was in. Though, he had chosen to be put there, and now, so had you. 

You watched Colter nod, accepting your answer. “I still think a German Shepherd would be a great choice for you,” he teased. “You know, a big dog, trainable, would make a good guard dog. You could take it with you, chase suspects down together...”

“Oh yeah, I could see it now,” you played along. “I’d have to sneak him into hotel rooms, make sure he doesn’t take a shit on the rug… Then we’d go on the job and I could introduce him to everyone, ‘I’m Special Agent Y/L/N but you can call me Turner and this is my partner Hooch.’”

Colter winced. “No, no. You have to give him a name that will strike fear into the hearts of the criminals you track down. Like General or Commando or Killer. Killer! Now that’s a good name. That will make anyone think twice about running from a dog with that name.”

This time, you were the one who winced though you hid it well. Instead, you forced out a laugh. “I am not getting a huge dog named Killer and bringing him to work with me.”

He grinned. “That’s a shame. I would have loved to have seen the look on your face when the dog would sit in the front seat.”

“There would be no front seat sitting. Back seat only.”

“Like a criminal who he just helped you to arrest? That’s cold, even for you.”

“I am so glad that you have this imaginary dog of mine’s back.”

He snickered and took a drink, looking back at the flames. Your smile slowly faded as you did the same. You both sat there, drinking in a companionable silence for a bit.

Eventually, your eyes flickered over towards him. “I need you to promise me something.”

His brows drew together questioningly when he met your gaze.

“Horizon…” You noticed him tense slightly at the mention. “No more.” When you saw the confusion in his expression, you elaborated. “No more digging, no more Reenie asking her contacts about them, no more mention of them period. You got the guy you were looking for. Now, put it to bed and forget that you ever knew they existed.”

His confusion increased. “I did put it to bed the second I dropped Doug off at his door and saw him hug his wife.”

You gave him a look. “Col, I need you to promise me,” you softly entreated. 

His brows arched slightly at the use of the nickname; you didn’t use it often and if you were, then he knew you meant business. He also knew what you were telling him without explicitly saying it; Horizon was dangerous and they were better left alone. It would be better for him to get a case of sudden amnesia about anything related to the organization.

He watched you for a moment before giving you a nod. “As long as nobody else goes missing like Doug did and as long as Russ is okay, they’re forgotten.”

You knew that was the best you were going to get from him and you leaned forward slightly. “And if anything happens to Russ, I’ll be right there with you, knocking on their front door,” you promised. And you would be; no question about it.

The corner of his lips tipped up in the beginning of a smile and after a moment, you couldn’t help but return it. 

The coffee shop you were in was decently quiet considering it was around 8:55 in the morning and most people were making their last minute dashes for caffeine before the working day began. You sat near the window, facing the entrance so you could keep an eye on who came in and out. You had ordered your usual, a soy vanilla latte, and you carefully sipped at the hot liquid. You scanned your phone for the day’s headlines, looking for any updates on the mysterious house fire that started in the mountains a few nights ago.  

You knew you wouldn’t find any and sure enough, you didn’t. Someone was working overtime to squash the case from up above, just like you knew they would. You also knew that some local law enforcement officials didn’t buy the criminals-turning-on-their-boss theory and they actually thought the scene looked like a professional hit. Exactly what you figured would happen when accelerants had been found to be used at the scene. As much as you were sure the cops were looking to sink their teeth into something exciting to happen in those parts in however long, the bottom line was the case would get dropped and no one was going to care what happened to a violent criminal like Carlos Solano. The FBI would actually be relieved to remove one more name from their list, one more file from their desks. One more dangerous bad guy removed from the world that threatened American citizens as well as national security. No one was going to miss the murderous bastard.

You powered down your screen and placed your phone on the table, turning to glance out the window. That was when you saw him. Well, the reflection of him. 

You watched as he walked towards you, still dressed in a ratty pair of jeans and old boots, wearing another t-shirt with a different musician on it while sporting an open button-up over it, and donning that old military style jacket. His eyes were intent on you and you had to wonder how he had gotten in without you seeing him. The answer was in the reflection of someone walking past him to get to the bathrooms in the rear of the cafe. There was no exit located near there, you knew that because this was a local spot of yours, so how did he… Shit.

Even though you watched him in the glass and he watched you back, you didn’t give anything away to alert him that you knew he was there. You started calculating in your head how many people stood in between you and the front door (your only exit at this point), how much force you would have to use to catch him off guard and knock him to the ground so you could make your escape, and how fast you would have to run to your car. You even had a moment to debate drawing your gun and your badge, and making a scene to get yourself out of this mess. But all of that proved to be for naught when he came to a stop near you and announced his presence by asking, “This seat taken?”

You slowly turned to face him, arching an inquisitive brow, but you eventually shook your head. His lips twitched into the beginning of a smirk and he took the seat across from you. His eyes were a lot lighter than they were the other day as they took you in. “Looking good, Y/N. Like always.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Really?”

He shrugged and reached for your coffee, taking the lid off. You hated it when he did this, the whole sharing coffee thing; now you would need to order another one…well, depending on how this impromptu meeting went. “What, I can’t tell my girl that she looks good?” He took a sip and made a face. “How do you still drink this crap? It tastes like foam mixed with shit.”

“And free garbage coffee from the lobby of the latest scuzzy motel you’re staying in doesn’t?”

“Hey, don’t knock it. They have real nice machines now and it tastes the way coffee should. Not like this bullshit.”

You watched as he grabbed a spoon, added some sugar, and began stirring the crap out of what had once been your perfect latte. You thought over what he’d said before. “I’m not your girl, Russell.” His eyes met yours. “I haven’t been for some time now.”

He finished stirring and removed the spoon, lifting the glass to take a sip. “You’ll always be my girl.”

You snorted and lifted a finger in the air to signal to the barista that you wanted another coffee. The kid gave you a nod and turned to make it. “Is that what you tell yourself when you’re hooking up with cheerleaders-turned-dental-hygienists in hot tubs?”

Russell pressed his lips together and looked appropriately chastised, not even bothering to deny it. “Colter told you. I should’ve known he would mention it. You two were always close like that.”   

You didn’t confirm or deny that. There was no point in mentioning that Colter hadn’t been the one to tell you, not intentionally anyway. Instead, you leaned forward in your chair. “What do you want, Russell?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?” You snapped. You had been on edge, thinking he was here to either kill you or threaten you. Then him hitting on you and making that asinine and incredibly presumptuous statement bothered you more than you cared to admit. Not to mention he pissed you off when he took the latte you’d decided to treat yourself with after a few difficult days (without even asking you might add), knowing how that had irked you anytime he did it when you were dating. It was like the man was begging you to put a foot in his ass.

Russell glanced around briefly before removing something from inside his jacket. It was a folded up newspaper and he slapped it down in front of you. A picture of a burnt out structure stared back up at you with the headline reading above it “House Fire Claims 8 Lives, Sheriff Confirms Arson”. Your eyes met his and in that moment, you knew that he knew.

You refused to give it away just like that, though. If he wanted the truth, he’d have to work for it. He wasn’t getting anything for free, not from you, not anymore. You gave him a smirk. “Is this your way of telling me that you’ve finally learned to read, Russ? I’m impressed, really.”

Instead of being insulted, his eyes widened slightly. “You called me Russ.”

You sat back in your chair, pushing the newspaper away from you and prying eyes, waiting for the barista making his way over to you to deliver your coffee. “Slip of the tongue. Won’t happen again.” You smiled at the young kid in thanks when he placed the drink down in front of you and promptly slid your glass out of Russell’s reach. He saw it and immediately worked to smother a smile as the kid walked away.

“So, you got any more interesting tricks I should know about?”

Without any preamble, Russell said, “Solano’s dead,” the exact second you took a sip of your new coffee. If he was expecting any reaction to the news, he was in for disappointment when you didn’t give it.

“Yes, I heard. Quite unfortunate.”

“They’re all dead actually. Even that guard we subdued in the beginning.”

You remembered; you’d been the one to kill him after all. Once Russell and Colter got to their feet after knocking the guard out and started moving towards the house, you quietly pulled a knife and slipped the blade into the side of the man’s head. You’d cut his zip ties, removed them and the gag, and then caught up to the guys — all within seconds. You had made sure to move the guard’s body inside later, right before you’d started the fire, trying your best to get rid of any drag marks you’d left on the ground. You were there to clean up the mess, not leave witnesses, even if they had never seen any of you coming.

You nodded. “I know, I heard that, too. Is there a point here somewhere or can I get back to the nice morning I was having before you showed up to steal my coffee?”

Russell was the one to lean forward this time, lowering his voice even further. “You said you were calling in the FBI for a pickup. Who did you really call?”

You could tell he was trying to give you an out, an opportunity to explain that it wasn’t what he was thinking, and maybe you should have lied your ass off…but you no longer wanted to. You knew Russell; he wasn’t going to let this go until he had an answer that he deemed to be the truth. And while you could give him a distorted version of that truth that didn’t land at your feet, a petty part of you wanted him to know. 

“Y/N?” He pressed. “Who did you call?”

You sat back in your chair, considering him for a moment before you spoke. “No one.”

Russell dropped his head, briefly closing his eyes. “Fuck, I was afraid of that.” He glanced up at you, his eyes full of a sadness you hadn’t seen in some time. You knew he wouldn’t be happy if he ever found out the truth, but not to this extent. “I told you to walk away and let me handle it.” His voice was softer, not as gruff as before. You realized then that you’d accomplished what that vindictive side of you had wanted all along, ever since the day he walked away; you’d hurt him and caused him pain. Pain that you could see clear as day lining his face right now. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. And quite frankly, that pain caught you off guard. After all of this time, this is what it took for him to feel even a sliver of what you’d felt back in the day when he’d left you bleeding, your heart torn from your chest and sitting in pieces on the floor he’d just casually walked over to get to the door?

Not really sure what to make of this development or the emotions it caused to rise up within you, you went into pure professional mode and forged ahead. “The three of you didn’t need to be involved.” You could see the pain getting worse and it made you uncomfortable, something prodding at your chest and itching at your skin that you really didn’t care for. “Besides, last I checked, I don’t take orders from you, Shaw.” You threw his last name in there as a last resort to put even more distance there between you.

His eyes flicked from the newspaper to you. “Who do you take orders from then? Something tells me this wasn’t FBI-sanctioned.” 

You surreptitiously glanced around you before leaning in, lowering your voice.“You know, going to your handler’s house during her kid’s birthday party was a pretty bad idea. Ann really didn’t like that.” You watched as Russell’s eyes widened slightly before his face fell, a dreaded realization filling his expression. He had never mentioned her name to you before and he knew Colter hadn’t mentioned her to you either when giving you the rundown of what they knew before meeting up in the mountains. You sat back, tensed and ready for whatever came next. 

His jaw clenched. “How long?” He ground out.

“Long enough.”

You kept your gaze trained on his and you did your best to read him, trying to assess what he might do, now that the pain was all but absent since your revelation. Would he tell you to watch your back and leave? Would he tell you to stay away from Colter for good? It was hard to gauge from the way he was staring at you right then. You could see anger bubbling underneath but you also caught something coming to the surface that strangely looked like remorse. Considering you hadn’t seen that emotion on him too often, it was tough to be sure in your identification of it. And then something flickered in his eyes right then, something so fast you almost didn’t catch it, but you did. Fear that quickly dissolved into determination. You braced yourself for whatever he would say or do; this was it. This would determine your next steps.

Instead, he surprised you once more. He snatched the newspaper up and slipped it back into his jacket, before reaching over and taking your hand in his. “I’m getting you out of here. Now. Let’s go.”

Stunned, you wordlessly got to your feet but then it hit you, you were about to go somewhere alone with him. Not that you couldn’t handle yourself but he had still been Special Ops once upon a time and he killed people for a living…just like you. 

“Russell, I’m not—”

“Yes, you are,” he growled. “I’m getting you as far from here as I can. I’ve got a buddy who has a cabin in upstate New York. It’s got months-long supplies, power and running water, and a small armory. You’ll be safe there until this whole thing blows over.”

You yanked your hand out of his and grabbed your phone and jacket. “I’m plenty safe here. I have no reason to run, so I’m staying. You want to leave? Go right ahead. We both know it’s what you’re best at.” The sadness was back but you looked away from it. Yes, that had been another low blow but it was also well-deserved. You moved past him, refusing to look over your shoulder even once. There was no way he’d do anything out in the open; he wouldn’t dare risk it, especially now.

You slipped into your car, not surprised in the least when Russell got in on the other side before you could even think about locking the doors.

“What are you doing?” You hissed.

“What’s it look like?” He clicked his seatbelt. “I’m staying with you until you agree to my plan to get you someplace safe or you explain how the hell this even happened.” He pulled out the newspaper, holding it up for a moment before tossing it to the floor. You could see the determined set to his jaw and you knew he meant it. 

“Russell,” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “I do not have time for this.” You blew out a quiet breath and turned to face him. “Now I suggest you get out of my car or—”

“You’ll shoot me?” He shot you a look. Yeah, he was still pissed about the threats you’d made a few nights ago. You supposed you couldn’t blame him but you did what you had to do to get him and his brother out of there. You had regrets but they were slim. “We both know you won’t.”

That infuriated you and had you seething. “You think I won’t?”

“I know you won’t. Just like I know that no matter how much you tell yourself that you hate me, you really don’t.”

You scoffed out a laugh in disbelief. “Wow, you really are incredibly delusi—”

“I also know you would never do that to my brother.” Your glare in his direction intensified. “You’ve always been protective of him. Just like me.” A glimmer of a fond smile worked its way onto his bearded face.

Your jaw clenched and you looked away from him, back towards the coffee shop you had just stormed out of, your grip tightening on your steering wheel. It was true; you’d always looked out for Colter in some way ever since you’d gotten to know him through Russell. 

While the relationship between the brothers had been strained for years, it didn’t mean that there hadn’t been a couple of times where Dory hadn’t attempted to get them into a room together to try to fix what had been broken. In one such instance, Russell had brought you along, after shocking you by asking you two nights before to accompany him. The man had spent over a decade in the military, worked Special Ops, and there wasn’t much he was afraid of, if at all. But when you were wrapping leftovers to throw into the fridge and he’d laid a hand on your shoulder, turning you to face him, you’d never seen Russell Shaw look so worried, vulnerable, and damn near terrified in all of the time you’d known him. You’d even felt it when he’d enfolded you into his arms and whispered into your ear that he was due to meet up with his family in the next two days, asking you to come with him. How could you say no to that? You knew of the family’s tragic history and the simmering tensions that still existed between the Shaws who were still alive; Russell had told you everything, even about how his mom had hung him out to dry (though he made excuses for her which made you grind your teeth). And for him to ask you to go, to meet his family, you knew then just how important this was for him. So you went, squeezed his hand in silent support whenever he appeared to need it, and did your best to provide distraction whenever things got a little too tense or heated. Dory didn’t care for you too much; you got the distinct feeling that she wasn’t happy Russell had brought an interloper to a family-only discussion. But Colter…Colter you got along with from the start. 

Colter seemed happier to talk to you than his brother and you could tell that bothered Russell tremendously. He had told you once how much he missed his siblings at times, especially his little brother, and he would never stop hoping to patch things up with them one day. Sure enough, he tried to interject into the conversation a few times with you helping as much as you could, but each time Colter shut him down. It was blatantly obvious that the younger man wanted nothing to do with him and there was definitely some resentment still floating around after years of estrangement. Needless to say, things hadn’t ended well at that dinner and you weren’t surprised that Russell drank a little heavier that night. Nor were you surprised when he grasped at you in the hotel room and pulled you to him, his lips claiming yours as he began unbuttoning your shirt and moving you towards the bed. You knew he was hurting and you let him take solace in you as you whispered loving assurances in his ear. 

After that, Colter surprised you by calling you a couple of months down the road, apologetically asking for your help on a case he had picked up. Though he didn’t know you well, he was in a rough spot and needed a helping hand, particularly a Federal one. You saw the opportunity for what it had been, an opening of a possible door between him and Russell, so you took it. You helped Colter as much as you could without risking being read the riot act by your superior, and you two got to know each other better as you worked together. It happened a few more times and you had even called Colter in to assist on a case of your own that you had snagged. You had gone for beers afterwards each time and you’d tried your best to talk to him, to convince him to give Russell a chance. He hadn’t been interested, was resistant to it even, but he liked you and he was starting to trust you a little more each time. He’d even reluctantly admitted once that he was glad his brother had you, immediately following up with “He better be treating you right, though.” You had simply smiled and assured him that Russell very much was. 

You didn’t mention the odd absences a few times a month (sometimes with little to no warning), the radio silence during these stints, and the avoidance of any penetrating questions upon his return — all of it that had become conditional to your relationship by that point. And Russell certainly wasn’t happy at all to find out you’d been working with Colter once you told him. You both had arguments before like any common couple but nothing like this. You had never seen him so angry and he’d laughed when you told him he had no need to be jealous if that was what he was worried about, you loved him and you were trying to make things better for the both of them, to pave the way for him to be able to make peace with his brother. 

“You just don’t get it.” 

He had shaken his head and glared over at you before he walked out of the room, away from you. From then on, Russell became even more secretive, distant, and cold as ice. Gone was the easy affection, heart to heart talks, and playful banter between you. Gone were the tender touches, gentle kisses, and passionate sex. The love of your life turned into a stranger right before your very eyes. It hadn’t been too long after that when he’d left for good, leaving your heart shattered on your hardwood floor. As time passed, you were surprised he hadn’t just packed up and left in the middle of the night while you were sleeping, without a single word to you and completely ghosting you, since he had been intent on leaving you in his past. It might have been kinder actually compared to the things he’d said to you as a final goodbye before walking away for good. 

So whenever you had dared to think back on it over the last few years, you’d always figured the fight over Colter had contributed in some way to the rapid unraveling of your relationship. Well, that fight and…other things.

“Let’s go somewhere we can talk,” Russell urged, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Come on, Y/N, you owe me that at least.”

You turned the most menacing glare on him that was possible for you to give someone. “I don’t owe you shit,” you bit out. How dare he say that? To you of all people?  

His jaw tightened and after a moment, he agreed with a soft nod. “Fair enough.” 

You broke away from his intent gaze a minute later, your decision made as you turned the car on. “You know what? If this will get you out of my life for good this time, then fine. Let’s talk. And don’t be so sure I won’t shoot you afterwards should you continue to piss me off. You’re right, I do care about Colter,” You scowled over at him. “But not that deeply.”

Russell matched your scowl but wisely kept quiet as you backed your car out of your parking spot. You felt an immediate surge of guilt for having said that about his younger brother. You did care about Colter, more than you would ever admit to anyone, even your ex. There was nothing remotely romantic between you two; there never had been and there never would be. But Russell had been right; you were protective of him. Not only because he was a good man but he also reminded you of someone you had lost long ago. You would bend over backwards to keep him safe (as safe as you could given his chosen career), even if it meant putting yourself in harm’s way. He had truly become like a brother to you. 

But you had also meant what you said just now. If Russell continued to irritate you, there was no way he was leaving this time without you putting a bullet in him. Right in his ass before the door could hit it when he turned his back on you for the last time. That or a good old fashioned ass kicking in the form of your right hook. After everything he’d done, he deserved nothing less.  

You pulled up to a local motel that you had booked a room at the last few days, in case you needed to close up shop and haul ass out of town quickly. It wasn’t the same establishment you had gone to the morning of the fire and you still had your place thirty minutes away, but you had learned it was always best to prepare for any eventuality. Especially after a job needing to be done so close to home. You had seen what happened with Doug; who was to say Horizon wouldn’t leave you out to dry, too, should the heat from the fire get a little too close?

You got out and headed over to the door, unlocking it and stepping inside, not looking back to see if Russell was following you. Neither of you had spoken on the ride over (which was probably for the best) and you didn’t glance at him once. Instead, you had done your damndest to tamp down the fury you felt racing through your veins as more and more memories played out in your mind. Now that Russell had a vague idea of the truth of what you had been doing all of this time, everything you had ever wanted to say to him seemed to be trying to rush to the surface as well as all of the pain you had endured.

You slipped your suit jacket off and tossed it onto the bedspread. You heard the door shut behind you and you spun around, seeing Russell’s eyes scanning the room, stopping on the bed, and then lifting to you. You scoffed and unbuttoned the sleeves of your blouse, rolling them up to your forearms. “Not happening so don’t even think about it,” you hissed.

“Wasn’t going there.”

You didn’t believe him. “Right.” You took a seat at the table and impatiently gestured to the seat across from you. “Well?”

He sat down and without missing a beat, dove right in. “How the hell did this even happen, Y/N?”

“Really? That’s what you’re starting out with?”

Russell shot you a look.

You let out an aggravated sigh and sat back in your chair, crossing your legs and getting comfortable. “I was recruited, not too long after you left.”

His jaw dropped. “They approached you?”

Nodding, your jaw tightened thinking back to that time. It wasn’t a memory you liked revisiting. You were at your lowest, Russell having just walked out like the four and a half years you’d spent together hadn’t meant a damn thing to him. He had been it for you. You had put everything you had into the relationship, which proved to be a difficult balancing act sometimes between your career at the Bureau and Russell’s job that he wouldn’t tell you too much about. You both had overcome so much together…all for him to tell you that he simply didn’t love you anymore, give you a shitty apology, and walk right out the door years later. Like you had simply been an amusing distraction, nothing more. Like you had merely been a stopping point in his journey and now he was bored and moving on. The breakup would’ve hurt regardless but the cold detached manner he’d spoken to you with caused more pain than you would have ever been willing to admit. It was a good thing you had already become a Special Agent by then, not stuck to any one location or field office, given how often you were hungover for some weeks there. You had attempted to track him down (which hadn’t been easy) to try to talk to him, to make him see reason; you didn’t believe that he had stopped loving you just like that. But when you had finally located him, he had been holed up in a dingy motel, similar to this one, but he wasn’t alone. That had hurt beyond words and it had taken everything for you not to say anything, not to let him see you, and turn back around, heading home with your tail between your legs and your head hanging in heartbroken defeat. 

None of it made sense to you. How had your life changed so drastically in a single day? Perhaps you had never really known Russell Shaw. Perhaps you only saw what he wanted you to see. But when you replayed the last few weeks of your relationship, even the fight over Colter, something still wasn’t jiving. So you buried yourself in work during the day and as deep into the bottle as you could during the late nights. Until they showed up.

“And you said yes?” He asked in disbelief.

Your eyes flicked to Russell, narrowing. “Why not? You did.”

He pressed his lips together. You had him there and he knew it. “That was different.”

“How?” You snapped. “Exactly how is that different, Russell?”

“I joined them long before you and I met.” Yeah, you knew that now. You knew everything he hadn’t told you the time you’d been together, minus the actual details of the off the books missions he went on. You now knew why Doug had never told Tracy anything either. Not only were they not allowed to, but It was safer that way.

“Well, bully for you, Shaw. You’ve got a few years on me at being a black ops agent and you’ve racked up a few more bodies than I have. Told way more lies, too. Congrats. Do we get you a cake or…?”

He leaned forward, covering your hand with his. “Stop. Just…talk to me,” he pleaded gently.

You hated it when he did that because you hated that it still affected you on some deep level. You rolled your eyes and moved your hand from underneath his, placing it in your lap. “They approached me about six months out from when you left.”

“Who approached you?”

Yeah, you weren’t giving him that. If you did, you knew he’d be on their doorstep in a second and that you couldn’t have. Not after you had just cleaned up the Solano mess and smoothed things over. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.” You knew that, could see it in his expression, but too bad. You both were in it now, had signed NDA’s, and details like that were meant to stay confidential anyway. 

“Someone did and that’s all you're getting.” You gave him a meaningful look. “Regardless, they offered me a job and I took it.”

You watched as Russell’s features tightened. “And the FBI thing?”

“Still active, though I’m now kept more as an ear to the ground, providing information and cleanup when need be.” You noticed a slight wince cross across his face. “They’re the ones I answer to and they’ve chosen to keep me there for the time being. I’m more effective in that setup.” Those words from your handler still burned you but over time, you had been able to adapt and utilize their refusal to fully bring you in to your advantage.

“And Solano and his men? Were they cleanup?”

You didn’t break away from his penetrating gaze and gave it to him straight. “You and Doug made quite a mess of things. So, yes, I was called in to clean it up.” He briefly closed his eyes in the same pain you had seen earlier, though you couldn’t fathom why. It had been nearly three years since he’d last professed to give a shit about you. Why would this even affect him? “Horizon wanted you kept clean and Doug was on his own. Then you idiotically showed up at Ann’s residence, not only tipping them off to the fact that you were sniffing around where you shouldn’t have been but then you allowed Colter to threaten them. You had to know that was going to ruffle quite a few feathers and put a target on your backs.”

His jaw clenched again and that dark void was back in his gaze. His fingers twitched near his phone and you knew he was itching to call his brother to check on him. “And they sent you to clean that up, too?”

You slowly shook your head. “No.” If they had, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now. Most likely, you’d be dead while Colter and Russell would hopefully be on the run or have gone into hiding. “Only to assess what threats you both posed to the organization.”

“And what was your assessment?” He watched you carefully. In this moment, you weren’t former lovers. You were two people with lethal skills and training, willing to do whatever it took to keep your loved ones safe, even from each other. 

You never broke away from his gaze, watching him back just as carefully. “What do you think?”

He stayed quiet for a moment, looking pensive and most likely turning your words over in his mind. You weren’t going to say it but knowing that gnawing feeling of constantly worrying about someone you cared deeply about, you wanted to make sure you both were on the same page of this topic. “And, Russell, if they had sent me for that, I never would.” His gaze immediately met yours. “Ever,” you promised. 

His eyes roamed over your face, most likely assessing if you were bullshitting him or telling the truth. Obviously having decided on the latter, after a minute or so, he gave you a nod. “How do you know they accepted your assessment, though? There’s no way they don’t know about you and Colter, you and me…”

This time, your jaw was the one clenching. Yeah, you were made aware of that fact when you had been approached for recruitment. That was how they knew about you, your career as a Federal agent, and how you had been involved with Russell once upon a time. When you found out more about Horizon from the inside, it didn’t surprise you one bit how deeply they dove into the background of their candidates or the amount of information they gathered on them. You’d even helped put together a few files yourself, without fully knowing what unit the candidates were being considered for of course. They kept a close watch on their assets and that was putting it lightly. 

So when you got involved with Russell, completely oblivious to what you were really getting into, Horizon had already scoped you out as well as Colter, Dory, their mother, Bobby, Reenie, Teddi, Velma — everyone. Even Colter’s on-again/off-again, Billie, and the mysterious circumstances of the death of the boys’ father. They knew it all. Horizon didn’t like surprises and you supposed you couldn’t blame them considering their line of work, but it also meant that you and everyone you cared about needed to be extra careful. 

It was one of the many reasons you couldn’t completely forgive Russell, though you now understood why he’d walked out when he did. Things had unraveled so badly between you that you’d started quietly digging into Horizon, not trusting what Russell had told you prior. Back then, you thought you’d find only what Russell had claimed: private security, perhaps a couple of Special Ops situations where an American hostage was retrieved in another country, or worse: he was lying to you and having an affair. Now, you knew he had told you the truth — a very scrubbed, limited version of the truth that omitted most of what he really did for the outfit. You remembered what he’d told you about a week and a half before he left. 

“You need to stop digging.” 

You looked upon him with confusion. One minute, you had been having a very tense and silent dinner where you could only hear forks scraping against the plates every so often, and the next, Russell was glaring over at you, speaking cryptically. “What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You need to stop looking into Horizon and leave it alone. I mean it, Y/N. Let it be.” His eyes bored into you with warning before he got up from the table and took his plate into the kitchen, leaving you to finish your meal alone.    

Normally, you wouldn’t have listened, determined to get to the bottom of Russell’s mysterious employer, but considering how your relationship was hanging by a thread at that point, you did. Despite the warning bells going off in your head, you did as exactly as he said: you let it be. 

You suddenly remembered Russell’s question to you. “You’re still breathing, aren’t you?”

Russell affected a slow nod, thinking it over. “And Colter?”

“I told them he’s no threat,” you murmured. “I talked to him, told him to forget they exist. He agreed as long as you were safe.”

For the first time since this conversation started, you could see Russell start to relax a bit, relief saturating his features. Even a small smile started to light up the tension in his face. While you could understand the feeling, share it even, something about it had you on your feet, walking over to the small refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of water from the six pack you had tossed in there when you booked the room. You held one up in an offer but Russell shook his head. 

“I’m good.”

You shrugged, unsurprised, and twisted off the cap, taking a drink. It made sense that he was still being cautious. Before you knew it, though, he was standing in front of you, that pleading yet determined look in his eyes again. 

“I want to get you out.”

You snorted. “There is no getting out, Russell. Not for me, anyway. Not until they’re done with me.”

He took a step closer and gently took the water bottle from you, placing it on the counter, and grasped your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “There’s always an exit strategy,” he murmured. “I never wanted this for you, Y/N. I only ever wanted to keep you safe. That’s why I left.”

Yeah, you knew that now, too. “I know that now. Why you wouldn’t tell me certain things about your job, but, Jesus, Russell. Did you really think they didn’t already know about me and who I was to you? Colter even? Dory? Your mom?”

He let out a deep sigh and hung his head, letting your chin go. “I know. I… It was a good fit for me at the time, the money was good — that’s why I hooked Doug up with them. But seeing how they hung him out to dry at the first opportunity and now you,” He tenderly ran his thumb along your cheek. “I’m seriously starting to rethink that decision.”

You pulled away from him. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t unring that bell.” You made your way back over to the bed and yanked your duffel bag from underneath it. You unzipped it and began rooting through it to make sure you had everything you needed for a quick getaway. You didn’t think you needed to go anywhere but now this location was blown for you since you had made the decision to let Russell know about it. You had already triple checked your stash when you left it here upon check-in but you needed something to focus on instead of the clear regret in Russell’s face. “And as for me, I made my decision.” You pulled out a gun from a secret compartment, checked the clip to make sure it was full, and slipped it back inside. “I’m good with it. I’ve used it fully to my advantage and I make good money, more than I was ever going to make at the Bureau, even if they fast-tracked me to Deputy Director. Solano was on our Most Wanted List for twenty six days and I took him out in one. Had he possibly gone free, there’s no telling what he would have done, who he would have hurt besides Doug.” You knew exactly what he would have done and who he would have hurt; he’d told you in explicit detail. You didn’t go into it but Russell wasn’t stupid (not when it came to things like this anyway). He most likely knew as well. He’d wanted to close up Solano as a loose end himself after all. “That kind of cleanup I can more than live with.”

Russell carefully approached, his eyes on the second gun you had pulled out and were checking. “I get that and I more than appreciate what you did with Solano. For Doug, for Colter and me.” Once you slipped the weapon back into its pocket, he laid a hand on your shoulder, prompting you to look over at him. “You can’t tell me, though, that this is what you want for your endgame. Not really.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “I don’t have an endgame, Russell. Maybe I did once but you took that the second you walked out the door, acting like everything we’d gone through meant nothing to you, like I meant nothing to you.” 

There was that remorse again and you despised it. “I’m sorry, I…handled that badly,” he admitted.

“Handled it badly?” You laughed in disbelief. You shirked his hand off of you and moved to the night table, yanking the drawer open to rip out the bible sitting in there. You opened it to the area you had cut out to hold emergency cash and cards, just like Russell had taught you once upon a time. “You told me I’d been nothing to you but a fling for the past four years, that you might have loved me once but you didn’t anymore. That I was…how did you put it? A fun distraction.” You slammed the bible shut and tossed it back into the drawer before closing it. You hurried back over to the bag, throwing the funds inside another secret compartment, more than done with this conversation.

“You’re right, I fucked up. I only said those things to—”

“Cut the cord, yeah, I know. Still doesn’t make it right,” you muttered, roughly zipping the duffel back up. 

“I wanted you to be safe. You were digging into them, even after I told you not to! And worse, you were pulling Colter into it!”

That quickly got your attention and you spun on your heel, jabbing a finger in the air at him. “Don’t you fucking dare lay Colter at my feet. Especially after what you just pulled last week. It wasn’t me hauling him into Doug’s case! Not to mention, way before you met me, the minute you took that job, you put everyone you knew on their radar and you know it! So don’t you fucking dare. I have been doing everything I can to make sure Colter is safe and doesn’t pull their attention, poring over every case he takes in the background to ensure they’re not involved or have any vested interests that are. Hell, I even just used a contact of mine to float a case over to Teddi and Velma to get him out of town and far away from here to continue keeping him safe. Me, Russell! Me! And what did you do to keep him safe? You blow back into town and not only put him even more on their radar, you deliver him right to their goddamn doorstep! So don’t you dare even try to put that on me,” you finished in a snarl. 

Shame lurked at the corners of his eyes and you scoffed in disgust, whirling around to grab your jacket from the bed before picking up the duffel bag and slinging the handle over your shoulder. “So glad we had this talk,” you sniped. “Now go have fun with the cheerleading dental hygienist or Reenie,” You could see more shame looking back at you. Unlike the hot tub conquest, Colter had actually told you about that one. You could tell how much it was bothering him and you knew he wouldn’t have mentioned it otherwise, knowing it wasn’t something you really wanted to hear. “Or that bartender you holed up with three weeks after you walked out on me,” Now you could see surprise; you could care less. “Or whoever you want. But me? I’m done. Have a nice life, Russell Shaw, and try not to get killed before you get out to start your little brewery operation. Oh, and try to manage not to get your brother or me killed in the process, yeah? Thanks ever so much. See ya.” 

You were walking towards the door when you were grabbed and whipped around. Before you could react, Russell was on you, his mouth covering yours and his hands gripping your face. “I love you,” he breathed against your lips after breaking away to let you catch your breath. “I’m sorry I said what I did back then but it wasn’t the truth. It took everything I had to walk away but as long as you were safe, that was all that mattered to me. I fucked up and I am sorry. I never stopped loving you, Y/N. Not ever.” 

He wiped at your cheeks and you hadn’t even realized you’d been crying. Shit. Well, that was embarrassing. Even more embarrassing was how much you wanted to believe him. You knew he was telling the truth about why he walked away, how he wanted to keep you safe, but it obviously hadn’t been as difficult for him to move on as it had been for you. “No, you don’t,” you choked out. “If that were true, you would have never walked out that door.” Your voice wobbled on those last few words and you hated it, hated how vulnerable you were being to him right now.

You wiped at your own cheeks and turned around, ignoring the pleading you saw once again in his eyes. 

“Y/N, please,” he ground out.

You kept moving towards the door. As you laid your hand on the door handle to turn it, you were whipped around one more time and he was kissing you yet again, your back pressed up against the wood. Except this time, you finally threw in the towel and gave in to what your damaged heart had been wanting all of this time. You buried your fingers in his hair and kissed him back just as passionately, not caring that more tears rolled down your cheeks as you did. He yanked the duffel bag from you and let it fall into a heap on the floor before lifting you up and turning to carry you over to the bed. You knew this was going to hurt like hell later but you refused to put a stop to it. You’d find a way to numb the pain when it ripped you open a second time, just like you always had. 

The only thought running through your mind as he laid you down and ripped your blouse open, sending buttons flying everywhere, was that you had been right. You knew the bastard had been lying earlier when you’d caught him looking between you and the bed. But right then as he lifted away from you to quickly shed his top layers and then dove back down to kiss you again and melt into you, your fingers greedily relearning every inch of his bare skin, you couldn’t care less.   

You reached your hand over, tenderly running a finger along the edges of the bandage on Russell’s arm. “Does it hurt?” You murmured.

“A little.” He turned his head to smile down at you. “More than worth it, though.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his chuckle at you gently pushing his head away, and turned onto your back. Russell embraced you with his other arm, pulling you into him. You rested your ear against his bare chest, hearing his steady heartbeat and settling your gaze on the ceiling above you. He pressed a kiss to your head, letting his lips linger against your hair, as his thumb rubbed your shoulder back and forth.

After a few minutes of content silence between you, you put voice to the question resounding in your mind. “How did we get here, Russell?”

“Well, you drove us over and then we—”

You softly swatted his chest, making him laugh and hearing the sound reverberate underneath your ear. “You know what I mean.”

“I wish I knew the best way to answer that, “ he whispered to you. You could hear the genuine regret in his tone and it made you start thinking about when you both would have to leave this motel room, and go back to the separate lives you had been living. Memories of lazy mornings like this back when you had been together, of you listening to his voice in your ear and knowing you were safe and loved, replayed in your mind on a loop. You would never admit it to him but you missed this, missed him. Nothing had felt right in the last couple of years like this moment here did. If anything, all of that time felt like some weird drug-induced nightmare, and you had just woken up to find Russell here next to you, nothing having changed. But that wasn’t true; everything had changed.

Not wanting to think about that just yet, you picked up the hand that had been caressing your shoulder and studied the skin of his wrist. “This is new.” You trailed your finger along the design of the tattoo sitting there. “What prompted you to get this one?”

“That’s something Doug and I got one night when we met up with another one of the guys from our unit when he was in town. Tommy Laird. Good man.”

“A crown?”

Russell shrugged underneath you. “Tommy picked the design.”

“‘We three kings’, huh?”

You heard him chuckle. “Never thought of it like that but sure.”

“Is he also a part of Horizon?”

You felt him tense underneath you at the mention of the dark and deadly elephant in the room. “No. He, uh, he lives with his wife and three kids in North Carolina. They have a house in Cary and he went back to the family business when he got home.”

You nodded and pulled his wrist to you, placing your lips on his skin and tenderly kissing the middle of the design before letting him go. He hugged you closer to him and placed a kiss to your ear in turn, letting out what sounded like a contented sigh. 

A moment later, he murmured. “I want to help get you out.”

You nearly rolled your eyes again. You wanted to ask him why he was dead set on thinking that you even wanted out. Perhaps the you he had known would want a way out, want something more out of life than money and secrets and cleanups, but you had changed a lot in the last three years. But you knew if you posed that question, it would shatter the cocoon you currently found yourselves in and you weren’t ready for that to end just yet. So instead, you reminded him of another angle of the truth. “That’s not possible. Not the way you’re thinking. You know that.”

“Anything’s possible.” You nearly smiled at his response; there was the stubborn streak that sometimes infuriated you and sometimes endeared you to him, like right now. But you needed to make sure you maintained a reality check for the both of you. You knew what he was really thinking.

“Even if it was, we can’t.”

His head lifted and he frowned down at you. “Why not?”

“This isn’t some Mr. and Mrs. Smith shit. We don’t get a happy ending,” you finished sadly, thinking back to the life you once shared together as you cupped his cheek and rubbed it gently with your thumb. “Not together. It’s too dangerous.” You left it at that but you knew that he was more than aware of what you meant. 

His frown intensified at your words and he covered your hand with his, turning to place a kiss into your palm. “We’ll work it out.”

“Russ,” you sighed.

He gently grasped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, looking into your eyes. “We’ll work it out,” he softly repeated, that glint of determination back in his gaze. 

You decided once more that you wouldn’t bother launching into the many reasons it actually wouldn’t work out and you would refrain from popping that bubble he had just wrapped you both in. That moment would come later. But for now, you continued to keep silent.

When he noticed you weren’t going to say anything, a mischievous smile began to form on that handsome face you loved. “You know, I don’t really have anything planned for today. How about you?”

Other than some paperwork you had to go over later, your day was pretty much free, too. Even if it hadn’t been, you knew that look and after this morning, despite still having some unresolved anger with him, despite things that still needed to be said between you, you would have freed up your schedule immediately. “I don’t think I’ll be missed for a while,” you teased.

He leaned in to kiss you, whispering to your lips, “Oh, you were missed. Very much fucking missed.” The impishness you had heard a moment before was now absent but he never gave you a chance to respond. Instead, he kissed you deeply and began moving to cover your body with his once again. He maneuvered himself in between your thighs, your legs automatically coming up to gently cradle his hips. “Your arm,” you broke away to warn him.

“Don’t care.” He lowered down to keep kissing you and surprisingly (or unsurprisingly perhaps), all was right in the world right then. You didn’t allow yourself to get swept away by it or by the fantasy of something that would never be. Sadly, the time for you and Russell to be together had come and gone. You’d had your chance and you both had blown it, with him starting you out of the gate. This right here, this was all that was left — like embers of a dying fire. You would always love him, you knew that (truthfully, you had always known it), but this was all you would ever have. Once you both walked out that door, you would be walking in separate directions, taking different paths in your lives, no matter what Russell would say. 

But for right now, you allowed yourself to live in the moment, to enjoy it as he groaned into your mouth when your hand helped guide him to where you both wanted him to be. You held onto him as he began a slow movement within you, knowing you would need to take over again very soon when his left arm began to tremble. But until then you kept him close to you, drank deeply of him, and reveled in what the two of you had always managed to create together, content to keep Horizon and the rest of the world on the other side of the motel room door, if only for a moment longer. 

A/N: I know I left some things open and unresolved. I wanted to do that to let this be a gateway to the continuing story in the short series coming titled "Closer". Please let me know if you would like to be tagged in the series.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this character.

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[sunflower-emoji]

Wallflower (Hawks x Reader)

You're shy. Hawks isn't.

(more Hawks fluff <;3)

It didn't matter that people would kill for a job like yours, you were going to quit. It wasn't worth this nightmare called a charity ball you found yourself at. 

You were young and far down the hierarchy. You had assumed that the higher-ups would send someone with an established reputation to represent the company. 

"No, you'll be perfect. A charming young face is exactly what our brand needs," your boss insisted.

You bit back a scoff. One of the reasons you became a costume designer was so you didn't have to schmooze people. You always loved the world of heroics, knew you wanted to be part of it in some way. But large crowds and larger personalities launched your heart rate skyward. Costume design was perfect: challenging, creative, and just the right amount of human interaction. Sure, you weren’t the most sociable, but you loved working one-on-one with your clients, getting to know them slowly over time and never worrying about going blind from direct exposure to the spotlight.

None of this seemed to matter to your boss, or your colleagues, who refused to take your place even as they sighed with envy. You were beginning to think it was part of a bigger conspiracy to get you to "come out of your shell," and you resented them for it.

Still, you wished one of them were here so you could have someone to talk to. Your charming young face didn't know a single person here.

That wasn't entirely true. You recognized some of your clients, had even tried to talk to one of them, making it through a full thirty seconds of stilted conversation before someone more famous pulled them away. You immediately fled to the periphery of the room where other guests floated past, preoccupied with other things and people.

That was fine, You were really only interested in one person here anyway, and you knew the chances of actually talking to him were nonexistent.

You had caught glimpses of him throughout the night. It was hard not to, his giant red wings a beacon, standing out even more in his all-black ensemble. Never long enough for eye contact, but you held on to the hope of getting a wave or a quick smile at some point tonight.

Hawks was an established client at your company, his costume the creation of your boss's boss. The two of you met a few months ago after you had been assigned to find a new material for his visor. Something sturdier without sacrificing visibility. He visited you regularly to test out the prototypes.

At first you were terrified, unsure how to talk to the loud, gregarious hero. The energetic banter your veteran coworkers had with him wasn't something you could match. But Hawks had surprised you with a patient smile and questions about your work, listening so attentively your passion overtook your shyness. It didn't take long for you to feel at ease with the hero, even if your heart never settled into its normal rhythm when he was around.

But there was a big difference between his visits to your studio and you approaching him in the middle of a giant gala, surrounded by dozens of other heroes and bigwigs. So you leaned against the wall, checking your phone and wondering if it was late enough to leave without getting yelled at later.

"Should've known you'd be over here!" You jump at the sudden visitor, who chuckles at your reaction.

Your heart's still in your throat, but you feel calmer now that Hawks stands in front of you. Something familiar at last.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that you seem like the wallflower type," he replies with a head tilt and teasing grin.

"Am not!" You said it as a reflex.  Both of you knew very well that you were a wallflower. And you had in fact spent the entire evening against a wall.

Hawks' eyes narrow, deviousness creeping into his smile. "Oh? Well in that case, I guess you won't mind sharing a dance with me."

When you fail to immediately take his outstretched hand, he pouts. "Come on, Endeavor already turned me down. Are you really gonna let me be rejected twice tonight?"

You huff out a “fine,” and he guides you to the dance floor with an eager pull of your hand, his feet not quite touching the ground. To your relief, he stops in a space off-center, his wings partially open as he brings his other hand up to your waist. 

The two of you twirl around in what you think is meant to be a waltz. Hawks can't keep a beat but insists on leading anyway, just barely missing your toes. Without warning, he spins you out before snapping you back against his chest and you feel the rumble of his laughter. You're grateful he can't see your reddened face, dizzy from spinning and the scent of his cologne.

By the end of the song, you've gathered enough wits for a little payback. As the music swells for the final time, you slip your hand around to Hawks' back and press your knee forward. His eyebrows raise in delight at your mischievous grin and he lets you dip him, throwing his arm out with a flourish.

There's a smattering of applause, some conversation to your side, but you're not paying attention to any of it, too focused on Hawks beaming up at you.

"Sooo, how about it? Up for another?"

You agree without hesitation this time. It's not like you had anything better to do this evening.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 40 part two

(Masterpost) (Pinboard)  (whole thing on AO3)

Warning! Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

What a Relief

After spending a few weeks in Gusu doing...stuff, our trio comes to Jinlintai for the discussion conference. Unusually for a CQL stair-climbing scene, nobody is planning to murder anyone once they get to the top.

Our crew walks up the stairs past 3 massive sculpted reliefs featuring Jin Guangyao.

First and most important, I have to point out that the sculpture version of Lan Xichen [edit: Nie Mingjue actually, whoops] is wearing a sash that looks like this:

*cough*

Meanwhile, for the picture with the sword and flames, qhanzi.com tells me that the written characters are 伏殺, fú shā; Google translate tells me this means "ambush." Specifically Fu=conceal, Sha=kill. Ballsy to have a monumental artwork on your front steps announcing that you're a backstabbing turncoat, Jin Guangyao.

Speaking of balls, Jiang Cheng jumps at the opportunity to bust some when the Lan bros arrive with Wei Wuxian in tow. He pretends not to know who Wei Wuxian is, but obviously does know something, given how bitchily he asks to be introduced. Lan Wangji continues his 13-year-long silent treatment of JC while Lan Xichen tries to figure out which bland smile he's meant to be deploying in this situation.

(more after the cut!)

They're all rescued by the appearance of Jin Guangyao 3.0, who has discarded his Nie braids and his Wen hotness in favor of Jin ostentatiousness.

He's no longer wearing the v-neck robe and topknot crown that we associate with the cultivation sects. Instead he's wearing a hat and a round-necked robe with a big embroidered design on the chest, that resembles the clothing style of a court official.

Some people see JGY's bureaucratic wardrobe as signaling that he's an unassuming administrator, someone who is not threatening to the power structure or is not ambitious. I see it more as conveying that his ambition reaches beyond the cultivation sects into the realm of dynastic/imperial politics.

Anyway, Jiang Cheng turns his ire towards his nephew, and Lan Xichen relaxes again. Possibly he is a little too relaxed, judging by how he's ogling Jiang Cheng.

I'm high as a kite, I just might stop to check you out

Party Monster

Fanfics are often accused of giving us an out-of-character (OOC) Wei Wuxian, but no fanfic Wei Wuxian is as OOC as the Wei Wuxian who attends this banquet. Normally Wei Wuxian is a mildly annoying flirt, but as soon as soon as he arrives in Koi tower he is (presumably) possessed by the spirit of Jin Guangshan, and becomes a gross sex pest.

He goes out of his way to hit on the wife of the clan leader and make googly eyes at all of the maids, whose social status doesn't allow them to be rude to him. And he does it in front of his date! What the hell, possessed Wei Wuxian.

While oblivious to Lan Wangji's jealousy, Wei Wuxian does check in with him to make sure it's ok to put on his "crazy Mo Xuanyu" act. LWJ replies with a certain amount of salt, but once Wei Wuxian makes it clear he's thinking about Lan Wangji's public face, LWJ chills out and answers him normally.

Side note: in no universe would this cute lil maid be making eyes at heavily-masked Mo Xuanyu when unmasked, radiant, filthy-rich Lan Wangji is right there to be smiled at.

Jin Guangyao greets everyone and some dancers start doing their thing; mercifully, possessed Wei Wuxian refrains from hitting on the dancers. As soon as Jin Guangyao starts to circulate through the room, Nie Huaisang has an epic nervous breakdown all over him, which is even better entertainment than the dancers.

This gives Wei Wuxian the cover he needs to slip out of the hall unnoticed. Well, as long as nobody notices Lan Wangji's obvious pining.

Fight Club

The prophecy foretells that into each generation of Jins will be born one douchebag cousin. Jin Chan is the douchebag cousin of his generation.

Jin Chan accuses "Mo Xuanyu" of being a sex pest, and Wei Wuxian suddenly understands why the plot made him act so OOC at the party. Mo Xuanyu wasn't really a sex pest; he was a regular pest, trying to get information out of Qin Su, not trying to seduce her. But he doesn't know that yet. In other adaptations Mo Xuanyu is gay, but CQL exists in a strange censorship-created realm in which gayness is pervasive but never mentioned, and therefore there is no homophobia. So nobody would care if Mo Xuanyu was gay.

When Wei Wuxian realizes what Mo Xuanyu did, he thinks "Mo Xuanyu, do you want to die?"

Nice choice of idiom, Wei Wuxian. I believe we have firmly established that yes, Mo Xuanyu absolutely did want to die.

The show is kind of vague, verbally, about whether Wei Wuxian 2.0 has a golden core. But there are a lot of moments that strongly suggest he does, at this point, have a functioning core.

This rock attack is, I hope, one of those moments, or else Jin Chan is a total pussy, getting knocked back by landscape gravel.

Next, Wei Wuxian shows Jin Ling the super-secret move known as "arm twisting," which Jin Ling, as an only child, has never encountered before.

Anyone with siblings is very familiar with this move.

Because this is The Untamed, this move should be executed with extra spinning whenever possible.

Jin Ling learns the move right away, and uses it to win the scuffle.

Avuncular

After the fight, Wei Wuxian sits with Jin Ling for a chat, and gives him the classic uncle advice "have as many fights as possible while you're young, because when you're older you'll have to be mature and get along with people."

I love Wei Wuxian so much.

For contrast, Jin Ling says that Jin Guangyao tells him not to get in fights. This makes Wei Wuxian seem like the cooler elder, but it also has a more sinister element, of Jin Guangyao holding Jin Ling back. Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian grew up constantly fighting with each other--sparring as well as informal fights, presumably. And their cultivation was super strong, partly as a result of that.

Wei Wuxian takes the opportunity to tell Jin Ling that he's not in love with Qin Su any more, because he's transferred his affections to someone else. Obviously Hanguang-Jun is the someone else, given that they've been inseparable for weeks. To keep Jin Ling from yelling while he explains, he clamps his hand over Jin Ling's mouth.

The thing is, in order to effectively clamp your hand over someone's mouth, there has to be something behind them--a wall, the mattress, your own torso, or something else solid. Otherwise they can just jerk their head backwards to get away from your hand. Or they can stand up and walk away, even.

Jin Ling, hilariously, does not realize this, and spends a ridiculously long time sitting still and making angry faces while Wei Wuxian rests his hand on his face.

Spy Game

Later that night, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji get ready for some shenanigans.

Not the sexy kind, alas, just some paperman snooping.

Wei Wuxian, because he's facing serious danger, is feeling extra playful and cute, and he takes time to goof around with Lan Wangji before getting down to business.

In paperman form, he's able to do some things that the censors overlook, including tugging on Lan Wangji's headband and apparently blowing him a kiss. In the book and the donghua, he catches onto Lan Wangji's lip on his way down his face, too.

One thing that's kind of muted in the live action as compared to the novel is how much Lan Wangji enjoys Wei Wuxian's childish and playful behavior. Lan Wangji never got to be playful as a child, but with Wei Wuxian he can cut loose--which he does mostly in the sack or when they're drinking together. But even when he stays in control of himself, he likes Wei Wuxian's silliness.

He tells Paper-Xian, tenderly, to be very careful, before he sends him on his way.

The Adventures of Paperman

The CGI department outdoes itself with paperman, making an animated character so adorable I'd be happy to watch a whole episode of him.

Paper-Xian sneaks into JGY's study and pokes around, finding an empty envelope. Then he listens and watches while Qin Su stumbles in, retching.

She's followed closely by Jin Guangyao; they proceed to have an absolutely fucking endless argument in which the words "sister," "brother," "incest" "rapist dad" are never said, instead using vagueburger phrasing like "this matter."

Jin Guangyao does freely admit to killing their kid, though, and wants to know who told Qin Su about it so he can kill them, too. She won't tell him, shockingly.

Jin Guangyao ends the fight by putting a paralysis spell on his wife and then making her go to sleep with another spell, which is the cultivator equivalent of saying "I've said what I had to say and I need some space."

He takes her into a secret room where he is also keeping a bunch of talisman-protected stuff and a shockingly small number of books.

Seriously, as a person who has way too many books, I am personally offended by the way Jin Guangyao wastes shelf space in his secret room.

As Paper-Xian sneaks around the room, Jin Guangyao helpfully pulls aside the curtain covering the shelf with Nie Mingjue's head on it, so he can grouse at NMJ for (figuratively) haunting him. Seriously? Dude, you keep a guy's head on your bookshelf, he gonna haunt ya.

The episode ends with Paper-Xian bowing (adorably) to Nie Mingjue, and then sitting laying on his face, which would make BOTH Lan brothers jealous if they found out.

Soundtrack: Ring the Alarm, by Beyonce; Blister in the Sun, by the Violent Femmes

[tismtron]

Could i request for the matsunos sextuples to react to obsessive Reader asking them "do You think you'll kill for me one day?" Like lana del rey's song "i want it all" hehehe

“Yes, of course I will my Darling.”

This was giving Mafia au so I was going to make based off them to make it more exciting. And it’s one of my favorite aus.

(Only warning for suggested murder)

Reader-afab she/her pronouns NOT PROOF READ YET

The Don Matsuno was known for being a lot of things. Prideful, Solipsistic, Vulgar, Comical, Egotistical, the list goes on. To sum up how he works in one word would be Direct. Everything about him can be seen as straightforward as he prefers to make orders clear enough to not mess up.

To his lover, His wife, to you, are well familiar with his work and how he can be. One of the reasons why you fell in love with him. Hell you love a lot about him. You catch yourself wearing his signature color red more often to his parties and meetings you are allowed to attend. The smell of his cigars he smokes lingers in his clothes makes you yearn for him when he’s away. One night when you were getting ready for on of his parties celebrating another successful business reap from his families casino and drug trafficking. You sat at your vanity mirror putting on your makeup when Osomatsu leaned on your shared bedroom doorframe. You glanced over at your husband who’s dressed to the nines in a formal black suit and blood red overcoat. You still find it funny how you still obsess over him like a crush even when you two are married.

Your mind began to wonder, does he feel the same way towards you? You were so close to him that you are in close touch with the rest of his family. But a small voice inside you makes you think his love may be superficial. He’s killed people. In the early start of his family business he did with his own hands. Now as the Don he can just send his men and grunts to take care of that for him. Would he kill for you?

“Would you kill for me one day?”

It just slipped out of your red lipstick glossed lips like it was a normal question.

He paused his moments while he lit a cigar, peering at you before putting the said cigar to his tongue.

“Of course.” He now strides to where you sat, making sure to keep eye contact with you through the mirror.

“You would?” Your voice still soft but clear. Searching for earnest truth his voice. Osomatsu puts his arms on either side of yours so hes caging you in his chest. “I would kill someone myself with nothing but my own hands for you. You are my world, my wife.”

Being the right hand man in a mass mafia organization is not a clean nor easy job to have. He’s the second most powerful man in his families business, following out the Dons orders and organizing the workers and grunts to do their respective jobs. You his spouse are allowed to be aware of what he does by the blessing of his mother. He’s very good at his job and goes above and beyond to protect you from any harm that does inevitably come with this business. But what really made you fall head over heels was how he tried his best to make sure you know that you’re loved. Karamatsu will take you on expensive fancy dinner dates when he’s off work. He will always have room for you in his schedule no matter what. You asked him the question when you were finished with patching up his wounds from today’s job. He had to supervise a couple trade transactions with only one getting out of hand.”you would ever Kill for me one day?” You asked while he was staring at his bandaged hand, now shifting up to meet your gaze. “Yes of course would my darling. What would make you think I wouldn’t my turtle dove?” His corny nicknames made you swoon at how he’s such a hopeless romantic. “I’d kill god himself for you my dear.”

The strategist coordinates all the money laundering and heists. Tracking the amount of money that goes in and out of the bank and each trade the family makes and spends. You do wake up at night to see him crunching numbers at three in the morning and have to usher him back to bed. You do see the stress in his eyes when his other brothers don’t take him serious unless it’s about the next mission. You two were at a party hosted by the Don with alliances and family. You were trying to find him in the crowd before spotting him at the balcony on his phone and a cigarette perched to his lips.

“Room for one more?” You joked as you poked you head out the door.

“Always.” He sighs with a smile realizing it’s you. A puff of smoke leaving his lips as you fix his tie.

“You know at a party you’re not supposed to be working.” You eyed his phone that was tracking there opposition that’s currently on the other side of the ocean.

“I guess you’re right.” He gives in before putting his phone away in his pocket.

The both you spent the night dancing and conversing with the other guests at the party. When you two were taking the limo back is when you asked him. “Would you kill for me if you had to?” His eyes go wide for a second. Feeling this question being unprompted. “You’re always worried about your work. I just don’t know if you would put in the same effort for me sometimes.” You look out the window when you say this. Not seeing the hurt in his face.

”Of course I would kill for you. dont ever think that I wouldn’t.” He grabs your hand and interlocks it with his, grabbing you chin with his finger so you’d make eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry for being so busy i promise I’ll do anything for you.”

When your spouse the Executioner of his families mafia business you get used to his suits being stained with blood in the laundry hamper.

He’s cold and rough to everyone, including to some of his family, but you get to see the hidden parts of him most don’t get to see. And you know you’ve worked hard to get to that point with him. And he’s worked hard to trust you, not just with himself but also with his family, his work, his life. You brought up the question you met up with him while he fed his tiger in the cellar. The same cellar he kept hustling tools and supplies. You leaned your head on his shoulder as he gave the last of the human arm to the tiger. His jaws crushing down of the tender bone with a crunch like it was nothing.

“Would you kill for me if you had to?”

Your eyes still at the feasting tiger while ichimatsu pressed a kiss on your scalp.

“I do this everyday.” He’s not mad, you can tell in his gruff tone he’s just tired.

“I know baby.” You hummed taking his arm in yours to drag him upstairs to get ready for bed. As you got under the covers of the bed he sat of the bed in his boxers. His back was covered in elaborate ink markings from the big tattoo he got. All of his brothers including him get a massive and detailed body tattoos to signify their roles and their status. Atop the back tattoo that’s marked his skin are scars and old bullet wounds. Some you remember patching up for him.”I’d kill anyone for even looking at you. you know that right?”his voice is gravely and tone stern. You hummed in response to signal that you do know. You reach out your hand to paw at the empty space of the bed. He huffed and shuffled close to you under the sheets. His big arms wrapped around your waist. His nose softly grazing the nape of your neck. “I love you. You know that right?” He murmured, his breath hitting the back of your ear. “I love you too.” You turn to him and softly kiss his temple. He softly grunts in response,

Falling asleep with you in his arms.

The muscle of the Matsuno Family Mafia jyushimatsu is feared by many. Mainly for his inhuman, unnatural strength and big never changing smile in his face. Usually with the executioner or Second hand man as a body guard. as many others know him for breaking bones with an empty smile on his face accompanied with a thousand yard stare, to you he’s your loving sweet husband. With him you don’t even have to ask. You’ve seen him crush some man’s skull with one hand one night because the skeez slipped a hand up your dress. Jyushimatsu looked to you after and said.”you want ice cream? I know a wonderful place far from here.”

The influence. Like the Strategist, the influence takes care of business with a technological advantage. Todomatsu wipes the social media of there’s identities and crimes. Promotes the family casino and keeps up with events and functions of the family business. While also keeping tabs on rival mafias, mobs, and gangs. Like Osomatsu, ge used to get his own hands dirty when they were starting out. Because of this of this he became well knowledgeable with a gun. You his wife ask him the question when he had the day off. You two spent the whole day spoiling each other in new clothes and window shopping. At nightfall you were both had face masks on and watched brain rotting reality tv. You sometimes still find it hard this guy is a mafia boss when he has a hamster face mask and laughing his ass off at the tv. You felt dumb feeling insecure while comfortable in your lavish blankets and having a cold penguin face mask on. But your just want to know.

“Would you kill for me?”

His eyes that were glued to the television now wide eyed at you, his cackling happy expression immediately gone.

“I’m sorry I ruined the moment-“

You immediately fall back on your words feeling embarrassed.

“No no no you didn’t you just caught me off guard.” He reached for your hand to intertwine your fingers together.

“Did something happened what brought this up?” You love that he cares so much.

“No! Not really. I don’t know really just curious.” You lie like you haven’t thought about this before. Would he get his hands dirty for you? He knows this question was one that was haunting you. Todo moved closer to you and peels your face mask off, the air cold on your face.

“Of course I will my darling.” He says with compassion, though his face mask takes away from the serious moment. You peel off his face mask and kissed him sweetly.

Let’s fucking gooo sorry for taking so long I’m fist fighting a hurricane and college

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Okay so how about a delirious or gravely injured hero / villain who starts telling the other details about their secret identity because they’re so sure they’re not going to make it while the other is like don’t even think about dying on me ?

"Look," the villain hissed. They pressed their hand into the wound the supervillain had stabbed into them. Flesh had ripped open and blood had been mercilessly dropping to the ground for the last few minutes. It was fair to say that the hero had...overdone it. The villain knew they could forget their own strength every now and then but they hadn't expected them to kill the supervillain that brutally. "I am dying."

The villain leaned their head back but the headache would not die. They dared to peek at the supervillain's body and somehow allowed themselves to relax. Years of anger and anxiety were gone now. Some peace was a good thing. Ignoring the tears and the pain, their eyes found the hero.

"Don't be ridiculous," the hero said but still, the villain could hear their voice shake. Whenever the hero's wall which they had built around their heart crumbled like this, the villain felt some weird sense of accomplishment. Wasn't this their job? Changing the hero? Even if the villain wasn't a good person, was this a good deed?

"No," the villain said. They grabbed the hero's wrist. Their nemesis was panicking, staring at the villain's wound in shock. "I am dying, love."

The hero shook their head and the villain wasn't sure if the pain made them hallucinate the tears in the hero's eyes or if those were actually real. They had never seen the hero this emotional.

"My parents aren't buried in the city," the villain said. "But I wouldn't mind if you chose a cemetery here."

"No."

"I have a cat, also. You need to take care of her. She's only five months old. I found her on the streets a while ago." The villain's hand crawled up the hero's arm until they found their hand and squeezed. "God, I thought I'd have some more time."

They couldn't even stop the tears. Couldn't control anything. Their vision spun and they felt bad for forcing the hero to watch them die. It was a little selfish, wasn't it? But wasn't it also a human desire?

Not to die alone?

"I have a sister, too. She lives far away, though. Maybe you'll find her phone number in my apartment? Could you take care of that? I know it's a lot to ask..."

"Don't you dare. I didn't murder someone for you to die now. I didn't protect you all these months for you to..." The hero swallowed and wiped thick tears away. For a second, the villain seriously thought they were dead already. I didn't protect you... "You cannot die now. I won't let you. You're too important to me."

"It's fine, I..." The hero pulled out their phone and dialed 911 with shaky fingers. The villain's eyes widened but they were too weak to protest. The hero tried to breathe but it was clear that it was quite troubling for them to take normal breaths. They were fighting just as much as the villain.

The villain had given up already, though.

"Yes, hello. I would like to report a murder. I killed someone. I also need an ambulance...I injured someone else, too," the hero said. "Locate my position."

They hung up.

"Fuck, what are you...?" The villain's heart was beating faster than ever. They couldn't believe what the hero had just told the authorities. Confessing a murder like this...asking for an ambulance? The villain wouldn't make it in time and the hero would go to jail either way.

This couldn't be happening. The villain had wanted them to live a quiet life, not dying young in prison. The amount of villain's the hero had already sent to jail was impressive and if the hero joined them, they wouldn't survive the first night.

The villain moaned when they moved. Pain was taking over and they weren't sure if they wanted to throw up or pass out.

"They won't put you in jail when you're injured like this. Especially not when I am the one who's responsible. They've been hunting you for quite a while now but in this case I am the criminal. This buys you time and they can actually save you at the hospital." The hero took in a greedy breath and closed their eyes. More tears.

"You're insane, you're-" The hero took their hand.

"It's the only way to save you. Your blood type is A+, right?" Perhaps? The villain wanted to throw up. This wasn't happening, the hero hadn't just pulled their Go to Jail Card intentionally.

"I think so?" The villain started to sweat and suddenly, it felt as if the world wanted to push them into the afterlife. They refused to die, now that the hero had confessed to a crime. But they feared they had no control over that either.

"Mine is A-, so I can donate. I'll try to stay on the ambulance, if they let me." The hero seemed to be back in their cold self. Always calculating, always thinking. Their poor hero. Always fighting.

"You'll go to prison," the villain whispered.

"And I will find a way to crawl back to you," the hero said. "I always will."

[ewanmitchellconnoisseur]

"𝑭𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆" - 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕３ 𝑬𝒕𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

A/N: This is part three of the Anti-Love Ettore on-shot.

Summary: You and Ettore decided to give the love thing a shot only it's not what either of you expected it to be which forces you to make some choices that would end up haunting you.

TW: spitting, edgning, choking, smut, orgasm denial, nipple play, cuffing, degredation, sexual assault, blood

Word Count: 4.2k

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I cant remember who made the X Banner. If you know please tell me.

Everything had been going pretty well.

You and Ettore decided to give being in an actual relationship a shot. It was odd at first Ettore didn't know how to act or what to say, he felt off referring to you as his girlfriend and you could tell he wasn't fully into it.

For Ettore, he knew he was only doing it to keep you around. You wouldn't stay with him otherwise in his mind. If being your boyfriend was what he had to do so that you wouldn't leave him that's what he would do.

He tried his best and even did research about what normal boyfriends would do. He took you out on movie dates which would just end up being awkward as he sat next to you rigid. He tried to be sweet to you but it just came off cold for some reason. The only time he showed the smallest amount of intimacy and care was during sex and afterwards.

A part of you just wanted to end it. Go back to the way you were. But you were also scared, what if he decided none of it was worth the trouble? In a matter of seconds Ettore can find someone new and leave you in the dust. This thought scared you and wracked your brain. He could grow tired of you and find a new plaything in a matter of seconds.

So to make him think it was ok you acted like everything was just that. You tried not to show any discomfort when he was acting odd or pretended that the dates were amazing.

But as time went on you noticed his behaviour changing. Ettore insisted you moved in with him saying that that's what normal couples do after a while. You expressed that typically that doesn't happen for some time but he said you both wouldn't need to wait long.

Somehow without you ever physically saying yes you ended up leaving your old apartment and moving in with him. From there it got even worse. Ettore became specific about the clothes you would wear or when you would leave.

The issue is Ettore didn't think anything of the way he was behaving. Considering he was getting most of his information on relationships online and probably on the wrong side of it he was sure that what he was doing was working. And deep down it was helping him too. Every time you left in a revealing outfit he worried about another guy seeing you and you falling in love with him. Not to mention this was also how he saw the men his mom would date behave. Is this not how he was supposed to be?

When you were out too long he imagined you were on a date or secretly with some guy rather than coming home to him. He's scared that you want a softer love than he can offer. The worry tires him down just like his dark and possessiveness do the same for you. You're both on edge with eachother worrying about what the other would do if you were honest. It's become all too complicated and you regret ever agreeing to this.

You think back to the first and only time he has ever said "I love you". Although that he said he meant it you don't think he did. Ettore isn't capable of real love if anything he is against it. In his mind, the only thing that happens between men and women is purely physical.

So after 3 months of giving this a shot...you are ready to give up. But you know you can't do it like normal people. You know Ettore can kill people considering the one time you helped him get rid of a body. Would he kill you? If you tried to break up with him like everybody else on this planet would Ettore murder you right where you stand?

You had spent weeks thinking of what you should do...and finally, you think you found a solution...one you knew Ettore wouldn't like but could free you both of this mess.

Your mind was made up. You'd enjoy this last night with him and leave the next day while he was out.

You both had planned to stay home that night and just watch movies.

You lay on top of him as you both stared at the screen. You could tell he had fallen asleep as his breathing had gone from being controlled to relaxed. You took this moment to take him in for the last time. To truly get a look at him.

You slowly sat up so you were straddling him. You brushed some hair out of his face smiling as you remember the small argument you had when you tried to convince him to let you give him a haircut. He made it very clear he didn't trust your barber skills.

Ettore started mumbling in his sleep, something he does often. He shifts in his sleep his cock brushing against you in the best way.

Even in his sleep his a horny little man. His hips start moving more as his breathing gets deeper. You smirk lean down and kiss him gently. You get an idea in your head that you know he will hate you for but you can't resist. If this was going to be your last time fucking him you might as well make it good.

You get up to retrieve something as you walk away you hear shuffling and worry he got up but then you don't hear anything else. You get what you need and walk back over to the couch seeing he had flipped onto his stomach.

This works better for you as you gently grab one of his hands and cuff it before bringing the other behind his back to cuff it. Just as it clicks close you see him slowly open his eyes.

His brows furrow as he tries to move his hands. He calls your name with a tired and annoyed tone. You duck behind the couch covering your mouth to stop you from laughing out loud.

Ettore sits up rolling his eyes as he feels the cuffs around his wrist.

"This isn't funny." You get up and walk around the couch so you're standing in front of him. He looks up at you with a straight face. "Take 'em off."

You shake your head and get on his lap straddling his waist. He groans as you slowly grind down on him. He leans forward running his nose up your neck, something about your scent had him going crazy every time.

"If you wanted me to fuck you all you had to do was ask." He whispers in your ear as he lifts his hips up so you can feel more of him.

You yank his head back by his hair. He winces as he smirks.

You had never taken control before. When it came to Ettore there was no room for you to be dominant he liked to control everything. So this? This was an opportunity you could not pass up.

You tilted his head to the side as you kissed your way up his neck still grinding down on him. You listened as he gently panted in your ear. He tried to lift his hips but anytime he did you lifted yourself so he couldn't feel you.

"No moving." You switched to the other side of his neck. You gently bite down on his ear lobe before leaning back and sitting up to take off your shirt.

You move slowly as take the fabric off freeing your breasts. Ettore tries to lean forward but you push him back roughly. He gives you an annoyed look.

You lean back and gently rub your nipples in front of him. He calls your name in annoyance but you keep going. You stand up and slowly take off your shorts and then help him out of his sweatpants before getting back on his lap.

He was so hard that it almost looked painful. He again tried moving his hips and you once again sat up higher so he couldn't reach you.

"This is evil." He leans his head back. You lifted his head back up.

"Spit." He rolled his eyes to which you reached and pinched one of his nipples. He winced in pain as his eyes snapped back to yours. "I said" You lifted your hand to his mouth. "Spit." His jaw clenched.

But he gave in and did as you said and spat in your hand. You reached down and stroked him ever so slowly, gently running your thumb over the slit on his tip each time your hand came up. His head leaned back against the couch as he closed his eyes.

Ettore did his best not to move but it was so hard, you were going far too slow for him. Involuntarily his hips bucked forward as you squeezed him harder.

You quickly let go of him.

"I said no moving." You reach down in between your own legs and gather some of your wetness bringing it to your clit rubbing tight circles.

"Please." You could barely hear the words come out of his mouth. He looked down watching you as you slid a finger inside.

"Please what?" You started to slowly move your fingers in and out of you. You could never reach the same places he can but you could pretend it feels just as good to simply piss him off.

"Fuck baby- pl..please fuck me." He was so pent up at this point that all he wanted to was be buried deep inside you. You smirked as you removed your fingers and lined him up. You ran him through your folds repeatedly, and for the first time, you heard a genuine whimper come out of him. "Please please please."

Pride swells in your chest as you slowly sink down on him the second you're filled to the hilt he groans throwing his head back, mouth agape. An idea comes into your mind and...well since you were leaving anyway you might as well go all the way.

Ettore's eyes widened as he felt you spit in his mouth. You grasped his cheeks in one hand.

"Swallow." He stared at you for a moment before a smirk crept on his face. He would get payback later but for now, he'll play along. He swallowed before leaning forward to kiss you. You gave his tongue access to your mouth.

You lifted your hips just till his tip was in and sat down quickly. You moaned into each other's mouths as you repeated the same movement. Wrapping your arms around his neck you started going faster. Deep in your pleasure, Ettore lifts his hips to meet your pace.

You could feel him twitching inside of you as he got closer and closer. He knew you were close to him as he felt your pussy clenching down on him.

"F-fuck." groaned deeply and you knew he was just there. As he was about to finish you get off him quickly. "What the fuck!?"

You reached down circling your clit as you used your other hand to sink two fingers inside of you. You finished yourself off as Ettore watched. When you opened your eyes and looked at him he was absolutely livid and still horribly hard.

"You have to uncuff me eventually baby." He lifted his knees quickly so you fell against his chest. He licked a bead of sweat off your neck savouring the taste. You brought the same fingers that were just inside you to his lips. He opened his mouth as he sucked them clean.

You reached over to the side table and grabbed the key. You eye him before helping him to lean forward so you can uncuff him. You only got one hand free before he flipped you onto your stomach and shoved himself back inside you.

One of his hands held your head down against the couch cushion as the other pressed down on your back deepening your arch. He wasted no time slamming into you over and over chasing back the high you robbed him of. The only sounds in the room were your whimpers and the sound of his hips meeting your ass.

Ettore watched as his cock started glistening with how wet you were getting. His hips and your ass becoming a sticky mess.

He pulled you up by your hair the same way you had done to him and wrapped his hand around your throat from behind.

"Is this what you wanted?" The angle had him hitting that lovely spot inside you over and over. Your eyes were rolled back and all he got as a response were moans. "Such a dirty fucking slut." He squeezed your throat harder. "Fucking answer me."

"Y-yes!" His other hand let go of your waist as he reached in between your legs and pinched your clit. Tears fell down your cheeks.

"Yes? Yes, your a dirty fucking slut?" All you can do is wince as you try to squirm away from him but he has you tight by the throat. He turns your head and licks one of your tears. "Yeah, I know you are. Come on then. Cum for me baby. Soak my fucking cock." He let go of you and grabbed your hips with both hands.

Ettore watched as your body shook as you came. Your pussy squeezing him so hard, begging him for his cum. "There you go. So pretty when you cum." He started breathing quicker as he felt himself about to finish. He came deep inside you still fucking you slowly even after you both came, fucking his cum back into you as it spilled out. You whimpered as he didn't stop.

"Shhh shh." He soothed you running his hands up your back. He moved you to the side not pulling out as he got comfortable behind you. His arm was under your head as his other hand ran up and down your sides. He kissed your neck and nestled himself in its crook, you could feel his breath fanning over your neck. "Go to sleep."

Ettore opens the door closing it behind him. He places a box on the floor before taking off his shoes and jacket,

Ettore notices how quiet it is which is odd considering whenever you home there's always some noise in the house. He checks the bathroom but you're clearly not in there. He has a gut-wrenching feeling and walks over to his dresser opening the drawers he had emptied to make space for you and your clothes.

His blood runs cold as he sees them empty. No clothes inside. He walks over to the closet by the front door and opens it. Your shoes are gone and your jackets are all gone too. Panicking he takes out his phone sending you multiple messages in a row demanding to know where you were and why your stuff was gone.

He paces around his apartment waiting for a response. No matter how many times she attempts to call you you never pick up. He leaves voicemail after voicemail but you never respond.

30 minutes later his phone dings. He almost falls as he runs to it hoping to see a message from with a lame excuse that will explain everything. But what he finds only breaks his heart. Though you tried to give him a heartfelt message it all went over his head.

His mind only focuses on the fact that you left him. You actually left him.

Ettore wasted no time getting his shoes and jacket back on as he left his house. He spent hours going to all your favourite places and where he would think you would. He didn't stop texting or calling and as he walked out of the last place he could think of he pulled out his phone and sent another text.

He waited a couple seconds before the message had an exclamation mark beside it and said it could not be sent. He tried again and again. He then tried to call you but it immediately went to voicemail.

"No no no." He kept trying and soon realized you had blocked him.

Just like that, he had lost you. The little light he thought he had found was gone and there wasn't anything he could do about it. There was no way he could get you back or track you down.

It sent him in a spiral. He starts searching for you in other women. Trying to see if he can get the same reaction. Two of them were dull, and two others fought back and were too dry for him. There were three others who he had been too rough with and he had managed to clean up their bodies well.

One day he thinks he finally finds one. She looks like you, dresses like you, heck she even talks like you. He was in the same bar as her watching from the corner. When she was finally leaving he followed her. She drunkenly walked home and made the mistake of heading into the park. Ettore made his move then.

He was rough and didn't even try to prepare her. He had hit her multiple times to get her to stop fighting back. When he was finished his dick was soaked in her blood and she was passed out. He sighed as it pissed him off that she wasn't anything like you. She didn't clench around him or cry in pleasure, just pain.

Considering he had some drinks in the bar, he made a drunk error...he had left her there...and that would be his biggest mistake.

Two more days had gone by before there was a knock at his door. He opened it not checking who it was and was met by police tackling him to the ground and arresting him.

The girl had woken up in that park and went immediately to the hospital without showering any evidence off. His DNA was all over her and inside her and that was all they needed to catch him. They tied him to the other three that had died recently and even got him to confess to two more he killed before he had met you.

Ettore knew he was going to jail forever. He would never get out. But that didn't bother him, it was the idea that he would never have a woman again that had him fucking livid.

By the time his trial was over he had been there for two months. He almost assaulted one of the nurses, just itching to be deep inside the poor unsuspecting girl, but he was being watched like a hawk.

There was no death penalty in the UK, so Ettore assumed he would spend the rest of his life in jail surrounded by disgusting men.

That was until he was called into a room where he was told he would be joining a mission. Ettore would head into space and do whatever fucking thing the guy said. He would never return to earth and would die up there. The idea wasn't appealing to him, he could give less of a fuck about stars and shit and didn't even want to entertain the idea. Until the lawyer with pants too tight mentioned it was co-ed.

His eyes lit up and he said yes immediately. Being on that ship was a better fate than being in jail. The chance to be around women again after months of testosterone was so appealing he felt his mouth pool with saliva.

He had never cummed by his own hand so hard in the past few months as he did that night. His brain came up with new material as he imagined the different women that could be on the ship. Surely some of them would be aching for the same thing. They had also been without sex for months just like him. At least one of them would be willing to give it up. And even if none of them were Ettore had no problem resorting to his old tactics.

When the morning finally came for him to leave this shit-hole prison he couldn't have been happier. For the first time in months, he smiled and laughed. The euphoria was all too much for him to contain silently.

That feeling died quick as he watched other inmates board the ship. And across from him sat someone he never thought he'd see again.

Leaving was one of the hardest things you did. For the first two weeks, you kept contemplating going back to him but you knew that wasn't a good idea. You cursed yourself for not staying but then patted yourself on the back for being able to leave.

It was tough for a very long time. You started stealing way more than before. Your new apartment was filled with stuff you never even wanted but just felt the need to take. But it wasn't enough. None of it was enough to fill the new void.

You made some new friends. Delinquents just like you. They too had a fond for stealing and grabbing whatever they could. Although you had become a more quiet person they enjoyed your presence and your experience in stealing. So they eventually invited you in on their more serious adventures.

It started small. Robbing people at ATMs, breaking into cars, even robbing houses when the owners were gone. You had no interest in stealing money but being out all the time gave you less time to think about him.

The group had grown over time what was once four of you became thirteen. With this new large group the self-appointed "leader", Jarvis, came up with a plan for an actual heist.

You would rob one of the banks in your town. You told him you had no care for money and that you weren't interested in this. Unlike the other members, he didn't have anything on you. Nothing to blackmail you with. So he used his other assets. As he continued to plan the heist he would spend time with just you alone. He could tell you were lonely, he didn't care why but knew he could use it to his advantage.

It had been so long since someone had touched you and you were quick to give in. It wasn't the same as when you were with Ettore. Jarvis finished too quickly and did too little to get you to your peak. You often had to fake it simply because you didn't want to hurt his feelings.

But one thing was different. Jarvis wasn't scared to take you into public. He was able to give you the soft love you wanted from Ettore. He wasn't awkward on dates and didn't hesitate to hold your hand or wrap his arms around you. He even kissed you often.

So how could you deny him when he came to you and asked you to take someone's place in the heist. He made promises that with the money the two of you would leave this shit country and go somewhere tropical.

You believed him and you should have. Jarvis was sincere though you'd always think looking back that he had lied to you, he didn't.

When the day of the heist came you were prepared. He had spent the last week teaching you how to shoot a gun and running over all the plans with you.

But when shit went south and the police managed to get in the building without any of you noticing Jarvis ran and didn't take you with him.

Out of the thirteen of you, four of you died of gunshot wounds, three of you escaped and six of you were arrested.

Some hostages had died and after the trial, it looked like you would end up spending the rest of your life behind bars.

Jail was cold and boring. Your fingers were still sticky and you often got in trouble for it. But you never stopped, occasionally stealing other inmates' commissaries.

You had built a bad rep for yourself and people were starting to get sick and tired of you. So you were also quick to take the offer to get off this planet.

You didn't care if it meant you would never come back. You had given so much to this planet and never got anything in return but heartbreak, pain and fucking depression. You'd much rather die staring at the beauty of space than the faces of women who want you dead.

Getting on that ship felt like confirmation of what you're doing. There was no turning back and even if you wanted to you didn't really have a choice. This was the only version of the death penalty they could give you so thats what you were getting.

You were sat in a chair as the man in front of you started strapping you in. Once he was done he moved on to the next person who was sitting next to you.

As you looked up in front of you your heart dropped to your damn toenails. Ettore sat in front of you with the same shocked expression. You watched as that expression went from something of a shock to happiness to anger then to lust.

You both sat there staring at each other as the rest of the inmates were brought on board and strapped in.

Your name was then called a couple of times but you were too focused on Ettore to even hear anything.

You felt a hand touch your thigh and turned your head to see who it was. Clearly whatever higher power there was wanted to torment the fuck out of you.

Jarvis sat next to you with a smile on his face. You looked back over to Ettore who now wore a look of pure rage.

"Shit..."

A/N: Heyy!!! Sorry this took me so long. I kind of had writers block and then I also had school assignments but im back now!!

There's only one more chapter of this series and im super excited!!

Gen Taglist : @thought--bubble, @valeskafics

"Fuck Love" Taglist: @scarletbedlam @fan-goddess @qyburnsghost @hi-eleonora

*Bold means I couldn't tag you. If you want to be tagged let me know in the comments.

[thewayhavenchronicle]

N Sewell's Big Secret - A Theory

So, I've been replaying N's route lately and an epiphany came to me last night when I was playing the end of Book 3.

It's in Book 2 I believe that you can ask Nate if he's ever killed someone while talking to him about how old he is. He frowns for a minute and says, "Not with my own hands, no."

Weird, right? After what we see in the mirror at the carnival, when he says he got turned at sea, it's clear that the image in the mirror was of that time right after he got turned. He's covered in blood, surrounded by bodies while wearing a British Royal Navy uniform.

Originally, since Falk declared N Not Guilty, I assumed that perhaps N had come to terms with the reaction they had to being a newly turned vampire. I thought maybe they'd lost control and slaughtered the men of the ship, or perhaps they'd been attacked and defended themself. A sort of Jekyll + Hyde situation where N doesn't consider their frenzied state to be truly Them.

BOOK 3 SPOILERS AHEAD

And then we get into Book 3, and it's really clear that N has not been to therapy enough to not blame themself if they'd killed that many people. They're overprotective and selfless to the point of self sacrifice for the slightest inconvenience and they blame themself for any little inconvenience that befalls MC. Clearly, they are not well-adjusted enough to separate something that happened in desperation and fear from who they truly are.

This put me on the back foot, trying to figure out what that could mean. If you are dating N, they tell you about their brother, M*lton, who was killed by vampires. They tell you about joining the Navy to seek revenge or to at least find out what happened to their brother. Makes sense.

The moment that made my theory CLICK in my head happens at the end of the book, if you ignore Rebecca's idea and go alone to the auction.

So, you get captured and the auctioneer person tries to sell you off for your blood. Just like the other 3 routes, N will come to rescue you at the auction, and they have a brief spat with someone in the audience who tries to outbid them.

[ID included on screenshot.]

This moment I originally thought was a pheromone thing. It doesn't seem like just a threat, as Nate seems visibly shaken and weakened by whatever it is he did. Also, the strange way the supernatural responds seems to suggest some kind of influence.

And then it hit me --- "Not with my own hands, no."

N's power is some kind of mind control / suggestion ability.

They never killed anyone with their own hands because they told the pirates / vampires to kill each other or kill themselves.

The theme of control comes up several times in N's route. N prides themself on being very in control of their body and their emotions, keeps their wants hidden and their true feelings locked firmly away beyond anything that is pleasant or kind. It makes me wonder if, aside from being able to influence people on command, if they can accidentally influence people when they get too emotional.

I also think it might require touch to really make the power work. They constantly keep their hands in their pockets and, while this is a normal enough idle motion, the fact that they touched the supernatural here and often put their hands in their pockets / withdraw touch when having a disagreement with someone suggests it might have something to do with it.

The amount of trust that UB must have in N when they have a power like that is enormous. It also sheds new light on the arguments that N and A often get into, as it seems that if N really wanted to, they could get their way every time via this weird power.

It also sheds new light on Rebecca's concern for N and MC. The assumption that MC is immune to this ability is there, but there's always the chance that they aren't, and Rebecca being worried about N forcing MC into doing things via suggestion seems to be very real.

It also makes me wonder if N has ever tested out whether their suggestion works on MC, or if they've thought about it with something small. Makes me wonder if we are entirely immune or if there's going to be some caveat like with M and their pheromones causing MC pain.

EITHER WAY, I feel like I figured it out. I'm losing my mind with the implications of it all.