#local man gets his heart ripped out and is like ‘but? I gotta go save my daughter??’

[cutter-kirby]

he’s a babygirl he’s a failwife he’s a losercore dumbass and he’s the most love-filled man to ever exist

[redrobin-detective]

sleep like the dead

“And now, I, Technus, shall finally have my electronic vengeance on you, ghost child and conquer this puny human world!” Technus shrieked, exiting the portal in a suitably dramatic fashion. The various weapons around the lab shook and trembled from his power and static from his core crackled, raring for a fight with his favorite enemy. Only the Phantom didn’t appear.

“Hmm, maybe I wasn’t loud enough,” Technus mused before starting up again. “Pathetic Phantom! You can only hope your miniscule half human strength will be enough to take on my squiggling mess of the tangled wires of terror!” He threw back his head and cackled loudly, waiting for his nemesis to show and the battle to begin. His laughter petered out after a bit and the lab became silent once more.

“Well, now he’s just being rude,” Technus fumed, floating up through the ceiling. “Don’t ignore my threats, child. I know you’re here, I can feel your cold core.” He stopped once he reached the ghost boy’s human lair, hovering a few feet from the bed where his rival was sprawled out, sound asleep.

“Come ghost boy, it’s time for fisticuffs! I have some new moves and some great catchphrases I’m ready to try out on you!” The technology ghost exclaimed in excitement, miming some punches. Phantom didn’t answer, just kept laying there barely moving save for his soft, shallow breaths. Technus watched as his breath fogged with each exhale, his core’s ghost sense but it still didn’t awaken him. “Child? Have you expired?”

He leaned forward and gently poked the boy’s cheek. It was squishy but firm unlike a ghost’s exterior and he could feel the dense bone underneath. Phantom didn’t so much as twitch. Technus drew back his hand, unsure of what to do. He’d surprised the child while he was in bed before but he always woke up and they fell into the usual routine. But now he’d changed the script and if there was something ghosts didn’t like, it was change. He flew back down to the portal and sped into the Ghost Zone at top speed, searching for someone who would be able to help him understand. 

“Wow, baby pop whooped your butt that fast? Either he’s getting better or you’re getting more pathetic, my bet is the latter,” Ember teased as she strummed to herself from a floating rock near her lair.

“The ghost child won’t wake up and fight,” Technus said in a rush. “I went to the human world but no one answered my challenge. I went to his human lair and he was just lying on his bed thing and he wouldn’t move, even when I touched him.”

“That’s not like him, he’s usually more hopped up and ready to fight than a groupie on coke,” Ember frowned, setting aside her guitar. “Well come on, sparky, lets go check the kid out.” 

They developed something of an entourage making their way back to the human portal. A few of the locals had heard that the infamous half ghost child was behaving differently and well, curiosity didn’t stop when the cat was killed. Skulker chuckled menacingly under his breath, Youngblood bounced around the adults. Johnny and Kitty had been going to the real world anyway and decided to tag along. 

“Were his folks or Jazz home?" Johnny asked, riding his cycle slow enough to keep pace with the group. 

“Who?” Technus questioned, “er no, the annoying children always with him were not around for once.”

“Annoying yes but they don’t live- uh occupy the same lair as the brat,” Johnny explained. As a younger ghost who’d held onto his humanity more than some, he had a better grasp of human culture. “His parents, the crazy ghost hunters in the blue and orange jumpsuits. Or his sister, Jazz. She has red hair and is kind of a know it all. They’re his family, they live with him.”

“Oh those weirdos,” Youngblood said wrinkling his nose. “Always loud and shouting about ripping apart ghosts. They’re not even good hunters.”

“Obviously, they haven’t noticed they got a ghost living with ‘em,” Ember added with an eyeroll.

“It’s a very stressful situation, Danny was worried about what they’d do if they found out,” Kitty frowned before sticking her tongue out at Johnny. “Danny’s a good guy, at least he talked to me about things that mattered.”

“Good target practice, you mean,” Skulker declared as they entered through the portal. Instinctively they all looked up to where the ghost boy’s core was humming but sensed no movement. “Alright, I will admit that is weird. Let’s see what the whelp’s up to.”

It was a bit cramped, the five of them crammed into the small room especially when they were keeping their distance from the room’s only living occupant. He had not moved since Technus had last been in here. At their entrance, his breath fogged again and he shivered for a second before settling back down. 

“Well, he’s alive at least,” Johnny shrugged before leaning in close to examine him. “Kid looks wiped though.” He picked up the boy’s bony wrist which had been dangling off the bed, his fingers brushing the floor and held it up before dropping it. His knuckles rapped against the ground but he didn’t stir.

“Johnny, leave him alone, he’s trying to sleep,” Kitty hissed, yanking her boyfriend back by his ear. 

“Come on, I’m not doing anything bad,” Johnny defended. “But, come on, how often are we gonna get a chance like this?”

“Hmm is human sleep that interesting that the ghost child would ignore all of us?” Technus asked, floating over and laying himself down on the bed. He laid there on the bed next to the boy for a few moments. “I do not believe I’m doing this correctly.”

“Nah you gotta close your eyes and go off to dreamland,” Youngblood said, grabbing a sock off the floor and then some papers from the desk and began stacking them on the half ghost’s head. The boy still didn’t react in the slightest. 

“Is dreamland close? Another pocket dimension like the Zone?” Technus, ever the scientist, asked curiously.

“No, you idiot,” Ember sighed before tentatively reaching out and laying a hand on Phantom’s chest. “Yow, man that’s weird.”

“What?” Skulker asked, having been mostly content to watch until now. Youngblood had now piled several more items on the ghost boy’s head but he slept on, unawares.

“It’s just,” she scrunched up her face as she looked for the words, “I know what ghost cores feel like and I’ve been around enough humans to know the signs of life but he’s got both at once. His core flares and fades opposite his heart beat. It shouldn’t work but it does, somehow.”

“He is a most curious specimen, I rarely see Plasmius in his human skin so it’s hard to compare,” Skulker commented. “Of course Plasmius I can understand. He acts like a ghost, thinks like one. But the child, he’s certainly a ghost but he’s also decidingly... human.”

“That’s why we should be leaving him alone,” Kitty frowned, plucking Youngblood out of the air and moving him away from the sleeping teen. “If Danny isn’t waking up with all of us causing a racket then clearly he’s exhausted. We bother him enough, let him rest and fight him some other time.”

“But I wanted to fight now,” Technus whined, rolling over on the bed and resting one arm over the ghost boy’s body. “The Phantom surely wants to hear my latest monologue on how I’m the supreme ruler of everything electronic and beeping.”

“I know I don’t,” Youngblood shrugged.

“Me neither,” Johnny scoffed.

“Or me,” Ember muttered, putting her hands on her hips.

“Just let him rest,” Kitty said shooing the others back and gently brushing some of the kid’s hair out of his face revealing sallow features and dark marks under his eyes. “It’s hard enough being human much less a ghost on top of that; between fighting us and trying to have a normal life I bet he hardly gets any sleep. The least we can do is give him a break before he breaks.”

“I suppose it’s not sporting to kill a sleeping prey,” Skulker pouted. “And it’ll make his defeat more meaningful if he’s well rested and not uh,” he gestured to the Phantom’s general state of disarray. 

“Better appreciate it,” Ember sulked for a second, kicking away some pajama pants from the floor. “His stupid human life. I’d give anything to sleep again, just for a minute.” 

The ghosts sat in quiet contemplation for a moment, the dead looking enviously and curiously on the silent, sleeping boy, on a world they could only watch but not engage in. The moment was shattered by the front door slamming open.

“DANNO WE’RE HOME AND WE BROUGHT CHINESE!” Resonated through the house. Startled awake, the ghost child leapt out of the bed and hovered about a foot above it for a moment before sinking back down.

“Darn it Dad, I was napping,” Danny grumbled before he opened his eyes and saw several of his ghostly enemies standing awkwardly in his room. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Technus lounging on his bed. “What the-”

“Oh good, you’re awake!” Technus tittered happily, leaning into his personal space. “Ready to hear my spiel?” The temperature in the room dropped rapidly as his core ramped up and spilled over into his eyes which were no doubt glowing a fierce green.

“Get out of my room!” He shouted, reaching over to grab his emergency under the bed thermos but a sock falling from his hair into his face distracted him.

“Hey, just stopping by but we were just on our way out, sleep well, Danny sweetie!” Kitty said dragging the whole group through the floor. His core thrummed in agitation until he felt them cross the portal into the Ghost Zone. He sat there for a moment, shaking and panting from the adrenaline rush before he decided he really didn’t want to know. He flopped back onto the bed and reached over on his nightstand for the bottle Jazz had given him the other day.

“The heck is in this stupid sleep aid?”

[arotechno]

Jughead (2015), Issues 1-6: Discussion and Commentary

"I am like unto a god, Archie Andrews. Respect me as such."

Recently re-typed and ready to go, here is a broad discussion of the first volume of the Jughead reboot comic series. I was originally going to review each issue individually, but given that the first six comprise one story arc, I decided to do the whole volume in one go. That means this is a bit crunched for time and therefore not quite as in-depth as I wanted to go! But I encourage you to read the comics for yourself, if you are able.

This will not be spoiler-free, for the record! The images here are taken from my own copy using my phone, so they're not the best quality! But they also aren't especially crucial to this commentary, so you'll have to bear with me.

I just really like the inside cover art for this volume, alright (it's also the cover of issue 5)? I can't help it, I'm aro, I see heart imagery and something in my brain goes haywire.

When we first meet Jughead at the beginning of Volume 1, he comes off as lazy and apathetic, at least on the surface. After an all-nighter of playing video games, Jughead is dragged to school by Archie. There, they find that Betty has started a new campaign to save Fox Forest, a beloved local greenspace that is being threatened by Veronica’s wealthy father, Mr. Lodge. Jughead is… not very interested in Betty’s cause, to put it politely. It’s not that he doesn’t care about Fox Forest, but he does not believe that Mr. Lodge would be convinced to change his mind by a petition. He tells Betty as such, and she remarks that he lives a very hollow life.

“Man, you’re so cynical,” Archie tells him. “Is there anything you’d actually fight for?”

The answer is yes. What ultimately gets Jughead to fight for something? Food—well, kind of, but we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

When Archie and Jughead get to class, they learn that the principal of Riverdale High, Mr. Weatherbee, is being replaced out of the blue by a new guy called Stanger. Stanger is a stiff, serious type, and he immediately starts making changes: new uptight teachers, a strict dress code, new bootcamp-esque curriculum, and most importantly, supposedly nutritious slop to replace the food in the cafeteria.

This sends Jughead down a bit of a rebellious path—he’s not a rule-breaker, but he’s perfectly comfortable with bending the rules in his favor while narrowly skirting around getting into trouble. He starts selling burgers in the cafeteria, with the proceeds benefitting Betty’s fundraiser for Fox Forest.

(Hell yeah, Jughead, unionize that student body! Sell those burgers! You have nothing to lose but your chains!)

This stunt gets Jughead on Stanger’s bad side immediately, and a slowly simmering feud between them ultimately boils over when Stanger plants a knife in Jughead’s backpack to get him expelled. Thankfully, his dad is able to talk his sentence down to a week’s suspension, but that doesn’t stop his friends (and his mother) from worrying about him.

As an aside, I’d like to take a moment to appreciate Mr. Jones.

“Something’s off here and I’m not sure what it is, but I am sure Jughead didn’t bring a knife to school. My boy’s weird, but he’s not a criminal.”

I really like this line from him to Betty. He clearly knows his son and is willing to stand up for him, and it’s comforting to me, especially viewing the story through the lens of Jughead being aroace, that Mr. Jones is not at all bothered by his son being a bit on the strange side, as long as he’s still a good kid. Nothing but respect for Forsythe Jones II in this house.

Something fun and unique about this volume in particular is that in every issue, Jughead either falls asleep or passes out, and has an elaborate imaginative dream about the events of the story. In one he’s a pirate, for example, and in another he’s visited by a descendant of Archie’s from the future, who belongs to the time police. But towards the end of the volume, the line between these daydreams and reality seem to blur for Jughead. He comes to the conclusion in one particular nightmare that Stanger is trying to brainwash them all into becoming mindless agents for his evil organization—and then he realizes he may not be that far off from the truth.

Jughead brings this realization—that Stanger is using the school as a sort of training ground for secret agents—up to his friends, and understandably, they aren’t convinced. They worry that the compounded exhaustion of multiple all-nighters playing games and the stress of being suspended has started to get to Jughead, but he vows to prove it to them.

I mean, damn, Betty, that kind of hurts. (Don’t worry, Betty is actually a good friend, as I’m sure we’ll get into later in the series.)

To make a long story short (and to avoid spoiling the entire plot for those who haven’t read it!), Jughead does find proof, and once he does, his friends are immediately on board. They are ultimately able to save the day, and once it’s revealed that Stanger and the new teachers are ex-CIA trying to brainwash the students (no, seriously), Mr. Weatherbee is re-instated as principal and things return to normal.

I’m leaving out a lot of nuanced details, mostly for the sake of time, but there are a lot of surprisingly weighty moments to this first arc, and Zdarsky’s character writing is incredibly endearing and funny, while still hitting the serious moments when it needs to. There’s an interesting underlying commentary in this arc about military recruitment and U.S. propaganda; Stanger says that he specifically chose Riverdale because the students are so average. There’s something to be said here about the way the military industrial complex preys on average or underprivileged teenagers to convince them to serve when they feel they have no better path to take. It’s an almost funnily serious commentary for Zdarsky to make with a seemingly silly and off-beat comic series, and I respect him for that.

(If you recognize this panel, it’s because it appears on the page where Jughead’s asexuality is canonized. What a good page. So good that nobody ever points out this panel.)

By the end of Volume 1, we see that Jughead maybe isn’t as apathetic and careless as he seemed to be. Sure, he got up in arms about food of all things in the beginning, but it stopped being about food very quickly, once he realized that something truly messed up was going on. And it bothers him, deeply—at one point, the gravity of the situation begins to weigh on him so heavily that he nearly gives up entirely, convinced that there is nothing they can do and that they ought to just lie low until they make it out. But he does end up making things right, with the help of his friends, and in the end, he does decide to help Betty out after all. It’s the least he can do, really. You do get the impression that although Jughead’s friends often don’t take him seriously, they’ll always have his back when it counts—and he’ll do the same for them, even if he’ll insist on being a bit snarky about it.

(That slightly cynical attitude is still there, though, and truthfully, Jughead wouldn’t be the same without it.)

To close out, I am just going to share some of my favorite panels/quotes that didn’t fit elsewhere, including some choice Aro Moods. I hope this (admittedly brief) discussion of Volume 1 convinces you to read the comics, and to join me again when I cover the next arc. Until then, cheers to Chip and Erica.

Jughead’s attitude towards Archie’s romantic problems will never not be funny to me. He’s just like “RIP to you but I’m different.”

Kevin. :/ Kevin come on, man. Mr. Zdarsky, sir, this is character assassination. (Jughead’s face in the corner is a reasonable reaction.)

This one’s gone around so many times before (as have a bunch of other aro moments that I don’t think I need to bother re-posting here), but I just think it’s neat. Don’t worry, Betty lets go.

Aaand lastly, I just really like this line from Jughead. “The world is out of our hands, pal. You just gotta make your own weird way in it.” That we do, Jughead. That we do.

[seaofghouls]

Resident Evil Village WKM AU

PART 1

Taglist: Nobody. Comment to be tagged!

Warnings: Bullets, Guns, Monsters, Tranquilizers, Blood, Gore, Descriptions of serious injuries, ect.

The stuff you'd see in Resident Evil. ------

“Long ago, a young girl went to pick berries for her father who was hard at work. The forest greeted them with a dark, cold silence. The bushes empty. Yet, determined to find the berries, the little rascal broke free of mother’s grasp and vanished into the trees. Mother’s worried cries faded fast as the girl ran on, over vine and under branch and into the forest deep.

Feeling strange eyes upon her, the girl recalled mother’s scary tales and her throat became bone dry. Then the bat lord appeared. He greeted her warmly and bit his own wing. “Come child, quench your thirst.” He said. So she drank the thick dark blood and smiled with joy. Passing through the graveyard, menacing storm clouds loomed and the air turned bitingly cold. The girl was shivering in her thin clothes.

Then, a Dark Weaver appeared and with a click of his fingers, crafted mist into a beautiful dress. “Come child, warm yourself.” He coaxed. So she clothed herself and smiled with joy. Across waters deep and ominous she went, hoping a boat she found would take her home. But hunger’s grip tightened and her hunger grew heavy.

Then, the fish king appeared and offered one of his many fins. “Come child, eat your fill.” So the girl ate and smiled with joy once again. Continuing on, she soon entered the forest’s dark heart. Then an Iron Steed appeared, bearing a beautiful, golden gear. The creature said nothing as the girl approached.. And snatched what she thought was another gift.

The horse grew angry and summoned the other monsters. Terror filled the girl’s heart as a wild wind rose around the beasts. Suddenly, a witch appeared! Dark, yet regal. “Gift we gave, but more you took.” She snarled. In a blink, the girl was trapped in a mirror, forever.” “There, she’s asleep.” He finished, holding a baby.

“What is with the creepy story? She’s only six months old. Especially the part about being trapped in a mirror.” Y/N asked with a huff.

“The woman at the store said it was traditional. A local tale. Besides, Rose doesn’t seem to mind.” Damien gestured at the sleeping baby in his arms.

“Because she doesn’t understand it, thank god.” Y/N sighed.

“We moved here so she wouldn’t have to deal with that, remember?” Y/N frowned. “There’s nothing wrong with my memory.” Damien slightly snapped.

“Maybe I’m being paranoid. I’m just cautious, y’know?” Y/N said.

“Then, go cautiously take your daughter to bed.” Damien smiled, handing them the baby.

“I’ll finish dinner.” Damien gave Y/N and Rose both a kiss on the head.

“It’s alright, Rose. Your father doesn’t want to remember. I can’t blame him.” Y/N mumbled.

“Did you say something, dear?” Damien called out.

“Nope! I’ll put her to sleep.” Y/N called back.

Y/N carried Rose up the stairs and into her room.

Setting her into the crib, Y/N smiled. “Don’t worry Rose, I’ll be right downstairs. I won’t let those scary fairytale monsters get you.”

Y/N gave her a kiss and walked back down the stairs.

“Is she doing alright?” Damien asked as Y/N walked back into the kitchen.

“Yeah, she’s sleeping like a- well, a baby.” Y/N giggled.

“Mm, smells good. What is that?” Y/N asked, referring to the meal that Damien was cooking.

“It’s clorba de legume, a local recipe.” Damien said.

“Wow, you’ve gone full native, huh?” Y/N smiled.

“Local wine, too.” Damien smirked.

“If you’re going to be grumpy all evening, maybe you shouldn’t have any~.” Damien teased.

Y/N sighed as Damien poured wine into two glasses.

“You really need to stop worrying.” Damien said.

“It’s just.. Everything happened so fast, y’know? It’s a bit stressful.” Y/N frowned.

“Well, at least we’re all here together.” Damien gave a small smile.

“You, me, Rose, now everything’s going to be-” Y/N interrupted him.

“Seriously? You think we can just forget what happened in Louisiana?” Y/N asked.

“It happened so long ago. I just- I don’t understand why you are so-” Damien was interrupted by a bullet.

In his shoulder.

And then, what seemed to be hundreds more lodged into him.

“Damien!” Y/N cried. The lights were cut out, the blood was everywhere.

There was no coming back from that.

“Damien-! Oh god.” Y/N cried.

Hiding under the table, Y/N was covering their mouth as they looked up to see who did this.

“Abe?! What the hell?” They barked.

“Sorry, Y/N.” Abe shot at Damien’s body more.

“No! What?! Why?!” Y/N sobbed.

“Ghk-!” Y/N gasped out as they were shot with tranquilizer darts.

----

Y/N slowly cracked their eyes open with a groan as they heard a phone going off. They lurched over to unburry it and answered it.

“Is the package secure?” The other end asked.

“What the hell is going on here? Where is Abe and Rose?” Y/N demanded.

“You are not authorized to-” The phone cut out.

“Curses!” They spit.

They began to walk around, turning on their flashlight that they had.

Crows were hung from the trees and the van had crashed.

They found a house and decided to explore it. Nothing of use on the main floor.

Or in the house for that matter. Just blood stains and a trashed home.

“..What did all of this?” Y/N sighed.

By the time they got out, it was morning. They’d never been so happy to see daylight. God, that house was creepy.

“Where the hell am I?” Y/N questioned, looking at the giant castle ahead.

Walking into the town below, it was abandoned. It was utterly trashed and empty. They ran into a man hiding inside a house. He shoved a gun into their hands.

“It’s all I can spare.” He said.

“What the hell’s out there?!” Y/N pleaded, but got no answer before whatever was outside grabbed the man through the roof. They fell through the floorboards into a bit of bodies.

“Aghk-!” They cried.

“Oh god.” They cried.

Bodies littered the floor.

“..Jesus Christ.” They muttered.

“Agh-!” They howled in pain as a beast attacked them, tearing off three of their fingers.

They were thrown out of the basement into the open world, their hand bleeding out, missing fingers.

“What the hell was that?!” They cried.

“N-no! Stay back!” Y/N pulled out the gun the old man had given them and started shooting at the beast. It fell over and bled out after a few shots.

They realized they were trapped. They decided to look around the village for any keys to open the locked gates or ways out. They were able to cut the lock open on the gate blocking them with lock cutters and other various items they found around the village of death.

They heard a radio announcement about traveling to Luiza’s house for safety, so they decided to do that while picking up useful items that they ran into.

The beasts were everywhere. They were able to wrap their bleeding hand in bandages they found. They had quite a few close calls including the beasts.

They got cornered and tumbled into a lake while bleeding out surrounded by monsters before they all stopped all of a sudden and ran off when an old woman seemingly saved them.

“W-wait!” They tried to chase after the lady.

She went off on a tangent with a creepy smile. “The bell tolls for us all! They’re coming again!” She closed the gate.

“Damn it.” Y/N cussed.

The only part that Y/N was paying attention to was the fact that their daughter was in the village.

“I’ve got to find her.” Y/N said.

They continued to travel through the village, shooting at monsters. Damien’s death was still heavy on their mind.

They found a daughter and father in a shed. They found a way to get them inside and close the gate. Luiza greeted the three at the front door, albeit with a man pointing a gun at them before Luiza shooed him off.

“You’re not from this village, are you?” Luiza questioned.

“Uhm, no. I’m Y/N.” They said.

“If Elena trusts you, then so do I. Come inside, Y/N.” Luiza said.

Luiza led them to the main part of the house where the others were hiding.

They certainly did not get a warm welcome.

“There is no safe! Every sorry person out there has been ripped in half!” A man cried, his alcohol swishing from side to side from inside the bottle.

“That’s enough.” Luiza declared.

“Let us pray for those still out there.” She said.

They all joined in a circle, praying to whatever god there was out there.

Y/N started to get a bit freaked out when the old man they had helped inside started laughing and screaming in agony. The house was lit on fire after he knocked over a lit lantern.

People started to crowd the old man asking if he was okay or what was going on.

Y/N gasped as they realized. He was no longer human. He was one of the monsters.

“Oh no.”

He slaughtered almost everyone in the main room as Y/N took Elena’s hand and ran into the hall away from the fire and the beast.

“Elana, we have to go!” They yelled.

“Let them go!” Elana cried, shooting her dad in the head as he was on top of Y/N.

“Oh god. I’m so sorry father.” Elena whispered after she shot him a second time.

“Hey, it wasn’t your fault. That thing wasn’t your father anymore. You did the right thing.” Y/N comforted Elena.

The beast groaned and garbled as floorboards fell on top of it causing more fire to spread. Y/N slammed the door he was in and comforted Elena as she cried.

“We’ve gotta get out of here. He was already gone.” Y/N patted her shoulder.

After looking for a while, Y/N found the truck keys.

“Damn, the fire’s moving fast. Elena, get in the truck with me.” They said.

They crashed through the wall using the truck.

The fire surrounded them, Y/N bit their lip.

Looking up, they narrowed their eyes. “Nowhere to go but up.”

They helped Elena climb up with them.

“..Elena..” A garbled voice called out.

“Father?!” Elena ran towards him. Y/N tried to stop her but failed.

“Elena, wait! That’s not him!” Y/N cried.

The floorboards were cracking.

Elena ignored them.

“Elena, take my hand!” They ordered, holding out their hand to grab.

“Y/N, go! Save your daughter!” Elena cried.

“Elena, please! Don’t give up! Reach for me!” Y/N said.

Elena fell through the floorboards into the fiery abyss below.

“Damn it!” Y/N cussed.

“Why is everyone dying on me?!” Y/N cried through gritted teeth as they climbed out of the burning house.

Y/N saw the old lady again so they ran up to her.

“Death. Death has visited them all!” She cackled.

Y/N disregarded that. They accidentally walked into the gate of the castle. Digging into their bag, they realized that they had the two keys to open the door. Artifacts, the keys were.

They were about to pull the lever to the elevator when a voice stopped them after they had walked into the castle.

“Well, well. Didn’t think anyone was left! You must be pretty tough, huh?” He had a huge hammer, Y/N observed.

“Who the hell are you?” Y/N asked.

“Oh! You’re not local! Even better.” The man smirked.

“Aghk-!” Y/N groaned as a spear was jabbed into them from out of thin air.

“Mother Celine’s going to love you.” He laughed some more as more and more metals were attached to Y/N until they passed out.

…

They came back to consciousness as they were being dragged and in chains.

“Quit your whining! We’re almost there!” The man assured.

They closed their eyes again, opening them, hearing voices.

“The person is of no real use to anybody else.. And my children do so love entertaining foreigners. Furthermore, I can assure you if you entrust the mortal to enter house Iplier, my children and I shall deliver the finest of blood to you, the finest cups of his slaughtered blood.”

“Out of my way, ugly! I wanna see!”

Y/N was certain there was some deep sobbing mixed in there as well.

“Oh~! They’re awake!”

More deep sobbing.

“Both of you shut the hell up!”

“..What..? Where..?” Y/N started.

“You mean you’ll screw around with him in private? Where’s the fun in that?”

“Give him to me and I’ll put on a show that everyone can enjoy.”

“Oh, so gauche. What do we care for bread and circuses? The person’s suffering is assured, regardless.”

“Yack, yack, the person’s privates are cut off in the castle, blah blah blah!”

“I’ve heard all of your arguments. Some less persuasive than others, but.. I’ve made my decision.”

“Benjamin. The person’s fate lies in your hands.”

“Mother Celine, I must protest! Benjamin is but a child and his devotion to you is questionable. Give the mortal to me and I will ensure they are ready.”

“Shut your damn hole and don’t be a sore loser! Go find your food somewhere else.” Benjamin growled.

“Quiet now, child! Adults are talking!”

I’m the child? You’re the one arguing with Mother Celine’s decision!” Benjamin defended.

“You wouldn’t know responsibility if it was welded to that hammer!”

“Oh, keep growing, one day your head might actually fit your ego!” Benjamin yelled.

“..Hey, don’t I get a say in this?” Y/N groaned.

“Fight fight fight fight!”

“SILENCE!” Mother Celine cried.

“My decision is final. There will be no argument. Remember where you came from.” Mother Celine said.

“Thank you.” Benjamin said.

“Lycans and gentleman! We thank you for waiting! Now, let the games begin!” Benjamin announced.

He bent down to Y/N’s level.

“Let’s see what you’re really made of, Y/N Winters.” He smirked.

He slammed his hammer down in front of Y/N and started counting down.

Y/N got up and ran as fast as they could, still handcuffed. Down the yellow tinted corridor echoing the screams of the monsters. They saw a hole in the ground. Looking around, it was the only option. So, they did the only thing they could. They took the leap.

They ran and ran from the monsters when they landed.

“Agh! Jesus Christ!” They cried.

“That’s right! Run for your life!” Benjamin cackled.

----

[nohoney]

I Just Want It To Be Us - 1.1

note: Part 1 of the Us series which is originally posted on my ao3 here

Us series masterlist

characters: Dabi/Touya Todoroki, Hawks/Keigo Takami

warnings: 18+, drug use, toxic relationships, cheating, angsty-ish

summary:

That question always rang through your mind every time he comes back smelling like one of his side whores and cash in his pocket. He’s your boyfriend but he’s been doing this since way before he met you, and he wasn’t going to stop just because you’re together. It was a condition that you pretty much forced yourself to accept from the very beginning because well… you really did like Dabi that much.

Dabi knows that it makes you upset but he’s not going to stop for your sake.

You know that he won’t.

1.1 ✧ 1.2  ✧ 1.3

Your mother would be so disappointed if she saw you with your current boyfriend.

“Marry a nice man, honey.”

“When you find someone to settle down with, make sure he’s the one.”

“Don’t flit about from guy to guy, it’s not lady-like.”

All these rules your mother set you up with when it came to finding a boyfriend, you knew it came from a good place in her heart. She was only looking out for you when she told you these things but didn’t she get that dating now was different in this age and time? You’re a free person and you can see however many people you want or you could see no one at all and that was perfectly fine as well.

She has a feeling you’re seeing someone but you haven’t confirmed with her. To be honest, you don’t think you’ll tell her anything about your current boyfriend. It would be for the sake of preserving her little, fragile heart. How horrified would she be if she found out her precious daughter was dating the local drug dealer in her college campus?

He didn’t like being called by his surname and he didn’t seem to like being called by his first name either. The first time he speaks in front of your intro to philosophy class, taking it just to fulfill one of grad requirements, he says to just refer to him as ‘Dabi’. It’s curious to the people who don’t know who he is already but who are they to argue with someone how they should be addressed?

So you call him Dabi.

You called him Dabi the first time you spoke to him in class, asking for notes from the day you missed before in class. You called him Dabi when he found you sitting alone in the library and he kicked your chair to get your attention. You called him Dabi the more you spent time together with him, even past the semester once your one shared class is over and final grades were submitted. You called him Dabi the first time he ever rails you on his cock in the backseat on his car.

You almost forget sometimes that his real name is Touya.

In his off campus apartment, he sits in a chair in front of the bathroom mirror and you stand behind him with plastic gloves over your hands, helping him dye the roots of his hair black. The dye stinks, you hate the smell of it, but he kind of suckered you into doing it for him this time. He promised that if you’d help him, he’d sit through one of your stupid romantic-comedy movies you’d been dying to watch for a while. But you had to tack on a condition if he was going to give you an incentive.

If Dabi watched a movie with you and wasn’t entertained by it enough, he’d always leave to smoke a joint and come back high just so that he could get through the rest of the film.

“No break of any kind unless it’s a snack or pee break, you understand me?” you tell him as you put the final layer of dye on his roots. “And no doing it before the movie starts! I want you sober when we watch it together.”

“Yeah, yeah doll. You have my word.” Dabi passively waves his hand at you as he looks down at his phone.

Your eyes casually glance down at his phone screen and see that he’s in his messages app.

Wonder if someone is trying to get him as a connect. You think to yourself as you dispose of the plastic gloves and the remaining hair dye. You’re cleaning up the hair dye tools and open the window to air out the awful smell of the dye, all while Dabi sits in his chair and stares at his messaging app. The sounds of incoming messages from his phone tell you that there’s a conversation going on but his fingers don’t move over the keyboard to respond. It’s not your business how he runs his operations.

“How long do I leave the dye on?” he asks as he stands up from the chair, putting his phone on the countertop, and literally rips the shirt off his body from the neckline down the middle. It’s just a regular t-shirt he bought to protect his skin from the dye dripping onto his body dispensable from the very beginning, but he didn’t have to make a show of it. The shirt drops to the floor in a heap and he kicks it off to the side; you are not picking it up for him.

Dabi’s hot, ridiculously hot, that’s the first thing anyone notices about him. Both his ears have multiple piercings and his nose as well sporting three studs on his right nostril. If he’s wearing short sleeves, the first thing anyone will see that his both arms are tattooed all black, save for where they end, at his hands and shoulders it’s detailed to look like his skin is being held together by staples. On any other person it would look ridiculous to you, on Dabi not so much.

He notices you staring and winks at you, but you scoff at him and push past him to exit the bathroom. “You know how long it stays on, you’ve done this plenty of times before by yourself.”

“I like it when you tell me doll.”

Ah Dabi could be so charming when he felt like it.

You roll your eyes at him but peck him on the lips. “Shut up, I’m going to order in some food for dinner today.”

“Wow, ordering in for dinner tonight. Such housewife material (Name).” Dabi pokes fun at you.

“And you’re going to be the perfect husband Dabi.” you tease back.

You’re not certain if Dabi is long-term boyfriend material, you’ve only been dating for about five months. It’s not a long period of time you’ve spent as boyfriend and girlfriend but you’ve had a lot of fun with him. Although you have to admit that part of the fun you were experiencing with Dabi was because of what he’s introduced you to.

Before Dabi, you’d only smoke a little bit of weed every once in a while or take the occasional edible to wind down. You never had your own stash of it, you’d only partake if a friend supplied or if you were at a party. There was no point in having your own selection if you didn’t really partake in it that much. You were okay with smoking from a joint or a bong every once in a while, maybe take an edible if you wanted something a little stronger than smoking flower.

After Dabi you’d indulge in the occasional gram of coke and maybe some ecstasy if you felt like you could afford to take two days off from work for the come down. There were still others you hadn’t given a try yet, like shrooms or 2CB or do a candy flip, but you were slowly working up the nerve to give them a try when you were ready. Dabi offered you a Percocet but god, never again because you were too fucked up the one time you tried it.

You didn’t really think in your life you’d be involved romantically with a drug dealer but honestly it’s not as bad as you thought it would be.

Oh yeah, try explaining that to Mom…

Dab treats you right for the most part, he’s never yelled at you or ever taken his anger out on you either since dating each other, he just sells narcotics on the college campus and he got you into it too, it’s not a big deal. It helped that Dabi took it easy on you rather than just pushing you to do more than you were comfortable with. The first time you were curious about coke, he made you a little thin line of it and it took you more than an hour to decide you were ready before finally snorting it. After that first one, he let you decide how long and thick you wanted your lines to be. He’d cut it nice and neat for you and point to which one was yours to take. Coke felt good but the drip was disgusting in the back of your throat.

Speaking of disgusting…

“Hey, it should have been long enough so wash that gross stuff out your hair and let’s eat dinner.” you called from the kitchen as you plated the takeout food that arrived not too long ago.

You and Dabi sit at his little dinner table with the television streaming some random drama for background noise. Dinner topics for the evening range from school, homework, family news if there is any, and when to coordinate seeing each other next in between classes and your part time job. Conversations go smoothly and you’re cleaning up the kitchen when Dabi comes up behind you and presses a kiss to the back of your head, nuzzling you as you wipe the plates you just ate off of. You feel a sense of dread because every time he does that it means…

“Hey, there’s a house party this Saturday and I gotta work.”

You bite your tongue inside your mouth and exhale through your nose.

He has to work so he’ll be gone for a while, has to disperse his inventory and has to please his regulars as well as find any potential new customers.

If it was just selling, it wouldn’t be an issue.

The real issue is that you know he fucks some of his female customers. No no no, they don’t just get free coke or acid or whatever they’re asking for by spreading their legs for Dabi. He still expects cash as payment, but if he thinks they’re pretty enough then he doesn’t mind getting something extra aside from money after a sale. He’s handsome so why wouldn’t someone want to hop on his lap and go for a ride?

Dabi saves you the trouble by just being upfront about it, swears to you that you’re his favorite and that he only sees the other girls if he’s making a sale, they’re just customers. He goes to them, he goes to their location and fucks them where they meet him. None of his side whores have ever been brought back to his place, not like how he lets you in so easily when you knock on his door. He doesn’t take them out or treat them sweetly like he does with you; it’s just a sale and a fuck. It still doesn’t matter to you though, it still makes you jealous. It makes you clench your jaw in anger and want to just deck him right where his nose piercings are.

You’re his girlfriend but did that title mean anything if he was still going to sleep with other girls?

That question always rang through your mind every time he comes back smelling like one of his side whores and cash in his pocket. He’s your boyfriend but he’s been doing this since way before he met you, and he wasn’t going to stop just because you’re together. It was a condition that you pretty much forced yourself to accept from the very beginning because well… you really did like Dabi that much.

Dabi knows that it makes you upset but he’s not going to stop for your sake.

You know that he won’t.

“Fine.”

━━━━✧

If Dabi gets to fuck other girls then surely you have the right to do just the same with boys right?

The thing is though is that you did one time just right before the two of you made your relationship official, you hit up an old fuck buddy of yours while Dabi was out selling at another house party in the middle of the night. He left a measly text saying not to wait up for him and that he’d see you for breakfast. It would have been sweet if not for the fact that he came to your apartment smelling like another girl, just spending just two hours with you before flitting off into the night. Two hours of him on your sofa smelling like someone else, not even offering to shower to get their stench off, and he did his best to placate you before giving up and letting you stew in your own anger.

So you hit up your old fuck buddy and you go to him, you just get straight to the point when you’re let into his dorm and fuck your frustrations out on him. You intended to go straight back to your home but angry fucking took a lot out on you so you just spend the night there instead. “Don’t cuddle me, I’ll be gone in the morning.” you tell him after patting his cheek and pulling the blanket over your body.

It’s a quarter before eight when you’re trudging back to your apartment and you see Dabi leaning against your front door. You’re going to ask how his night was but he abruptly pulls you to him and growls in your ear to, “Get in your fucking apartment… now.”

He knows you went out to get fucked, doesn’t want to know who you went to.

You and him argue for over two hours inside your home, pacing back and forth in the living room. It’s back and forth of ‘it’s just business with those girls’ from him and ‘why shouldn’t I be allowed to do it to you?’ from you. Dabi says it’s just business and they mean nothing to him, claims to you that you hurt him more because you did it out of revenge. He really got you screaming at him after he said that but he didn’t dare back down. He stands firm and so do you, that really gets him angry with you even more.

He didn’t apologize and neither did you.

You were jabbing your finger in his chest when he grabs you by the wrist, irritation and exhaustion evident in his turquoise eyes. “Don’t fucking do that to me.” he growls at you.

“Get your fucking hands off me Dabi.” you spit back, shaking his hand off your wrist. “Get out.”

“No, we’re not leaving it like this.” he insists. “We’re fucking talk about this.”

You throw your hands up in the air in exasperation. “No, you want to ‘talk about it’ until I yield to you which is never going to happen! We’re going around in circles! You’re not going to be sorry and I’m not going to be sorry!”

A tense stare off between the two of you for a few seconds.

Next thing you know, you’re pulling off each other’s clothes and you’re forced on your hands and knees in your own bed. The only foreplay you get is a few seconds of rough kissing and Dabi spitting on his fingers to prep you as quickly as he can. When he pushes in, it’s rough and a little uncomfortable but you’re quick to adjust to the punishing pace. He pulls your hair too hard, you backhand him in the face, he spanks you until your ass is red and aching, you dig your nails into his back and scratch achingly slow down his flesh to make sure it really hurts.

Hate fucking with Dabi was a whole new level of intensity for you but you keep up with him until it turns into slow love making.

The biting, angry dirty talk from the beginning turns into whining praises; from ‘you spiteful, fucking bitch’ to ‘my pretty, little angel’.

“Fuck babydoll, you know how good you feel? I think I’ve fucked you so much that your pussy’s shaped to take just my cock. This cunt damn near drained me dry but I still want more. Cum on my cock more, tell me how bad you want it.” Dabi whispers into the skin of your shoulder before licking a trail up to your chin and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Ugh, baby it’s so fucking good, only you know my body like this. I don’t want it from anyone else but you… shit, I’m going to cum again!” you groan as you clamp down on him once more and your pussy strangles his cock for more cum.

You fall asleep after two hours of fucking, your head resting in the crook of his neck and his arm around your shoulders to keep you close. The both of you are all fucked out but your mind is still fixated on the fight. Despite the intimate sex that’s brought you closer together after rounds of hate fucking, it doesn’t change the fact that Dabi still fucks his customers sometimes and you’re still resentful about it.

“If it makes you feel better then fine (Name), you can fuck who you want.” Dabi says to you when the both of you wake up and are pulling your clothes back on your bodies. “But know this, if you want to be in on this then you’re just going to have to accept that I’ve been doing this since before I met you and it’s not going to stop just because we’re together. So go ahead, fuck who you want but as long as you always come back to me. I always come back to you, don’t I sweetheart?”

You’re smoothing your hair down, taking in his words before looking up at him and asking, “We’re together?”

Dabi’s eyes are full of mirth as he approaches you, pulling you close to his body and squeezing one of your asscheeks in his hand. “You’re my favorite, my number one, I like you (Name). The things I do for you, what I’ve done to you, no one else gets that from me.”

He didn’t apologize and neither did you.

But funnily enough even though he gave you permission to sleep with whoever you wanted, you didn’t really have the desire to do so. He comes to you smelling like other girls sometimes and that should be your cue to go find your own rando to hump on but you just… don’t.

Part of you wonders if Dabi is happy that you don’t go around like he does despite his blessing. You’re resentful towards yourself sometimes that you don’t go out and have some fun with someone else too. He gave you permission so you should take him up on it, that makes sense given the circumstances. Apparently the only thing that was important to him was that he always be your priority the same way that you were his.

Maybe at the time you just wanted the rush of revenge and now it was different that Dabi took that away from you by giving you permission. Maybe he knew that once he gave you the green light that you weren’t going to bother anymore with seeking anyone else out.

You were certain that he was manipulating you but you didn’t have solid evidence so there wasn’t much you could do. What the hell were you supposed to say to him?

Hey Dabi you tricked me into not sleeping with other people?

Dabi did always give you a heads up at least when he was going out to sell and he always tried to make you happy when he comes back. He offers to order in your favorite food, bring your favorite bottle of alcohol with your favorite juice to chase, eat you out until you’re a quivering mess on his mouth, or nudges half of a tablet of ecstasy in your hand and says that he just wants to put on music and house roll with you.

It still doesn’t change that you get jealous no matter how many sweet things he does for you.

But you like him enough to deal with his shenanigans… just barely.

━━━━✧

“Why don’t you come with me?” Dabi asks you as soon as you’re back from work. You’re tossing your purse onto your sofa and drop your body onto the cushions, your head in his lap and seeking his warmth. His hand goes to your head to start massaging your scalp, his fingers working magic and making you groan in pleasure. “Come with me tomorrow doll.”

You roll your eyes and turn your head to look at whatever show Dabi was watching while he was waiting for you. “To watch you flourish your business? I don’t think so. I’ll stay behind like I usually do.” you scoff, pressing your cheek against his leg and sighing.

He’s never asked for you to come along before, he doesn’t need the distraction of babysitting you. You wonder what’s caused him to ask you to tag along.

“Come on doll, just come along. Odds are I won’t be coming back the night of the party and Keigo will be there tomorrow, he can keep you company.”

Ah you loved Keigo, he was the only one that Dabi really considered to be a friend to him. Maybe it was because he could keep up with your boyfriend in regards to their drug consumption but you could see that they had a bond beyond just getting high together, more than just pills or powders or tabs that keeps them together. Together they both seemed like laid back individuals but Dabi only seemed laid back due to how apathetic he was whereas Keigo was actually a chill person because that’s how he actually was, it wasn’t just the air about him that made him seem so.

You loved being with Keigo, he always spoiled you silly and made you laugh.

“I don’t know, what exactly will I get out of it?” you shrug your shoulders and huff out quietly.

Suddenly two little baggies come into your view, one filled with white powder and the other with a little pink tablet. “Is this supposed to be a bribe to get me to come along?” you ask, staring at the bags and not bothering to take them from your boyfriend’s fingertips. You won’t lie that it is a little bit tempting, just a little bit.

“Maybe so, you know that my merchandise for you is discounted doll. Nothing but the best for you, my shit is always clean.” Dabi shakes the little baggies as if the contents are going to be more enticing if he does so. There’s definitely a big truth to what he said, the quality to his inventory is nothing less than superb. It’s why his clientele always kept on coming back to him but the absolute best was either for his favorites or it was apart of his own personal stash.

You’re staring hard at the baggies and start debating in your mind. Dabi would still give it to you even if you insisted that you stay home but there was no fun in doing it alone. You had some friends that could help you kill the coke if you asked them over but god forbid they start feening, that’s when they became difficult to deal with. There was no point in you holding onto them either if you weren’t going to do anything with them right away.

Since Keigo was going to be at the party tomorrow and if Dabi was going to give the baggies no matter what…

“Alright, only since Keigo is going to be there. Nothing else.” you give in and pluck the two baggies from Dabi’s hand and sit up on the sofa. “Now how much do I owe you for your merchandise sir?”

Dabi smirks at you as he crawls over you until you’re lying flat on your back, like you’re his prey and he’s the predator. “Just your usual payment madame, if you please.”

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP meme from Tremors

Let's get you out of the sun for a spell.

Please move your fat ass.

Well, when I'm your age I'll probably forget what I eat, too.

How many cows does it take to make a stampede? Is it like three or more? Is there a minimum speed?

You will have long blonde hair, big green eyes, nice full breasts that stand up and say hello, ass that won't quit. And legs, legs that go all the way up!

Yeah, well, I'm getting what I refer to scientifically as "weird vibes."

They're all the same; dead weight. Can't make a decision, can't walk because of their shoes, can't work because of their fingernails. Make my skin crawl!

Well, I'm a victim of circumstance.

Twenty years of looking for a woman exactly like Miss October 1968, and where'd it get me?

Down, honey, down.

The way you worry, you're gonna have a heart attack before you get to survive World War III.

Right. We plan ahead. That way we don't do anything right now.

The idea was; we were ripping you off.

Now, you know I'm good for it.

Are we too easy-going?

If we're gonna take the plunge we oughta have a better plan than that.

Stop it! Stop it, you horrid animal!

God almighty, my mama sure didn't raise me for this.

You're the one's gotta have a plan.

What keeps us doing jobs like this is you dragging your feet.

You gonna stand there in broad daylight and tell me you think I'm the reason we're still here?

I'll call that little bluff.

Forget it, man. It's not worth it.

We did it! We faced temptation and we did not bend!

Last chance, asshole.

Jeez, look at that guy.

You're full of shit.

He must've really been drunk this time.

You damn fool, you owe me on this one

Well, whatever the hell happened it's just one more goddamn good reason to haul ass out of this place.

Hey, where the hell's that asshole dog?

We got a killer on the loose!

He's cutting people's heads off!

I'd high-tail for town if I was you!

The phone is out!

We've gotta get the police up here.

Well, there's sure as hell nothing to stop us now.

Is some higher force at work here?

Are we asking too much of life?

You on a booze break or what?!

Where are the bullets? Don't we have any goddamn bullets?

Hey, I don't want spend the night out here!

What the hell you doing back already?

Unreal! Where'd you get it?

It's disgusting.

So, it's some kind of snake?

It's dead all right. Tore the damn thing in half.

There's gotta be more out there, a lot more.

Slick as snot and I'm not lying.

Look, we organize, we arm ourselves.

We go out, we find those damn snake things, we make 'em extinct.

Might be aliens. Who knows?

Why go looking for trouble?

Phone's out. Road's out. We're on our own.

I'm dead. Let's finish in the morning.

Just keep looking at that beautiful sky.

Damn that thing!

Well, what's wrong with it?

You sure this is where it was?

God, what a stink!

Something's got me!

Oh, God! Get me Out!! GET ME OUT!!

Somebody stop it!

You want the rifle or the Smith?

IT'S GOT ME! IT's GOT ME! AAAAHGH!

You stupid punk!

One of these days, [NAME], somebody's gonna kick your ass.

Come back with the Sheriff.

Come back with the National Guard.

That means we're gonna be out here, like, in the dark.

Oh, man, I hate this shit.

Ride like hell.

How could they bury an entire Plymouth station wagon?

They're under the goddamn ground!

There must be a million of them!

It's gaining on us!

We can do it, we can do it!

We killed the bastard!

Did you just notice something weird?

Think it smells like that 'cause it's dead?

I think they shoot right outta its mouth, hook you, and pull you right in.

Good thing we stopped it before it killed anybody else.

I'm lucky it didn't find me.

This is like, well, let's say it, it's probably the biggest zoological discovery of the century.

Just look at what we caught here!

This is one big mother!

Come on, nobody's ever seen one of these!

There are five more of these things!

Five more?

If you compare the different readings, there have to be five.

There's nothing like them in the fossil record, I'm sure.

I'd vote for outer space. No way those are local boys.

The government built them, a big surprise in the next war.

How the hell's it even know we're still here?

It can sense the slightest seismic vibration, hear every move we make.

I always wanted to be stuck on a desert island. But somehow I always imagined, you know, water.

You know, I hate to be crude, but I'm gonna have to take care of some business here.

I'll tell you, if you ever wanted proof God is a man, this is it.

Running's not a plan. Running is what you do when the plan fails.

You're not even trying to come up with a plan!

Think it's still following us?

You go north, I'll go south.

Well, I'm scared, but I'm not sorry.

All right, I'm about as subtle as a donkey's ass.

You think we're not even safe here in town?

I think we should all get the hell out while the getting's good.

You should have a theory at least.

This valley's just one long smorgasbord and if we don't haul ass outta here we're the next course.

You little ass wipe!

You knock that off or you're gonna be shitting that basketball!

Where are we going to go that's safer than right here?

I'm gonna kick his ass!

Man, you got a gun?!

Big as a house!

Remember, no noise. No vibration.

Get off your pogo stick!

Go back, for chrissake!

Come on! Outta your pants!

Just run! Run like screaming fuck!

This oughta hurt like hell.

So, is that one of your usual jobs, saving peoples' lives?

How long till they go away?

Shut it up! Shut the little bastard up!

Quiet! Quiet you hateful thing!

Chuck him out the door!

Son of a bitchin' lowlife, putrid, scum.

I got enough food here to last us for weeks.

Jesus! Shut it off!

Can't you shout a little quieter?

How the hell long it take you to change a tire?

They're coming after you! They're coming right now!

Big monsters under the ground, [NAME]!

Broke into the wrong goddamn rec room, didn't you, you BASTARD!

We killed that motherfucker!

Uh, be advised, however, there are four more, repeat, four more motherfuckers.

They got one! They killed one of the sons of bitches!

You're not getting any penetration, even with the elephant gun.

Never figured on having to shoot through dirt! Best goddamn bullet stop there is.

They can feel our vibrations, but they can't find us.

The bastards are up to something.

Oh, wow, man! No way! No fucking way, man!

They're gonna tear this whole town out from under us!

We'll come get everybody. Just hang on tight.

Since when the hell's every goddamn thing up to us?!

We don't have a hell of a lot of time here.

We need a helicopter is what we need, or a goddamn tank.

Jesus. It's slower than hell.

Couldn't we distract them somehow?

We need a decoy.

Hey, [NAME], you wanna make a buck?

We're gonna save our asses here!

Get real. I'm faster than you.

Damn. Guess I have to do it.

Watch your ass, shithead.

Don't worry about me, jerkoff.

You goddamn suicidal son of a bitch!

He'll never make it! They're gonna get him!

HEY, YOU SORRY SONS OF BITCHES, COME AND GET ME!

Goddamn good thinking!

Me next!

Get me off of here!

We got about three seconds!

God damn! Armored transport!

What do you think? Max firepower or...?

I'd go for penetration.

Give me a gun! I'll take one!

I wouldn't give you a gun if it was World War Three.

Underground goddamn monsters?!

Any sign of'em?

Maybe they're taking a dump.

What the hell are they doing? They're up to something.

I don't care what they're doing as long as they're doing it way over there.

They dug a trap! I can't believe this!

Hungry?! Eat this!!

Here they come! They're coming back!

They'll sure as hell get us if we stay here!

[NAME] do you have any more of those things?

Then, when the explosion happens, if it drives them away again, we all run like goddamn bastards!

What if it doesn't scare them? What if they don't run?

They're so sensitive to sound, they have to run! It hurts too much!

We're gonna run. Get ready.

They're too fast! You can't outrun them, no way!

It worked! There they go!

You asshole! There's no bullets in this gun!

Could we make it to the mountains?

What's the matter with you? What are you talking about?!

Those animals would have killed you!

You haven't seen what they can do.

They're not falling for it!

I'll make'em pay attention, goddamnit

We can't kill them all.

Use the fucking bomb!

This better be one great plan!

We could make some real money off this whole thing, get in People magazine.

Sell the movie rights.

You're really leaving, huh?

There's going to be major research up here.

And thanks for everything, you know, saving my life and stuff.

Civil? I'm civil.

You're not civil, you're glum.

We got the world by the tail with a downhill pull and all of a sudden you go glum on me.

Somebody paying you to do this?

She just practically asked you for a date.

God, my work is never done.

Fine, make the mistakes I did.

I think I'll just be playing this hand myself.

I'd goddamn worship her.

Can you fly, sucker?! CAN YOU FLY?!

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

AIGHT Y’ALL I wasn’t tagged but I’m doing this anyways because f u c k  i t

It's the year 2021 and you're obsessed with The Karate Kid. How are you feeling?

Deadasss weird as fuck, my dude. Like...out of all the things I could’ve predicted happening in our lord’s year 2021, it definitely was NOT getting hyperfixated on a hammy gay ship with a punk and a nerd from a goddamn karate soap opera. And yet...here we are??? I will never understand hyperfixations, my guy. But I’ve met a lot of really cool people in this fandom, so I can’t really complain.

Did you grow up with TKK or are you new to the series?

I have never seen a single Karate Kid movie in my entire life. When I was a kid, it looked kinda dumb so I never got into it XD But then I saw my roommate watching Cobra Kai on Youtube Red one day (he has every streaming service known to man) and I was hooked. And...here I am!

We gotta do the basics. Favorite character:  

Literally EVERYONE except for Kreese, Yasmine, Kyler, and Tory, sorry stans

Okay but if we gotta pick, Johnny Lawrence is my Problematic Fave. Also I love my boy Daniel, he’s trying his best!!! And Amanda LaRusso, we stan a queen!!!

Among the kids, definitely Miguel, with Demetri as a close second. I also love Sam, Aisha, Moon, and Hawk (pre- and post-Bastardization Arc, anyways XD)!

Favorite ship:  

Take a look at my username and take a WILD FUCKING GUESS lmao Yes it’s Eli/Demetri because DUH, every interaction they have is so fucking gay and Eli fucking saved him!!! And came back to him!!! And betrayed the world’s most terrifying dojo with a WAR CRIMINAL SENSEI all for Demetri!!! And how Demetri was willing to forgive him for everything at the drop of a hat because he always had faith there was still good in his best friend??? That’s TRUE LOVE motherfuckers. Please let them kiss in Season 4. I will sell you all of my limbs. Sam/Miguel is a close second because they’re cute as shit and it’s just so lovely to see two people so unapologetically smitten with each other. They are in LOVE, and I will RIOT if they break up again!!! Keep Sam and Miguel together 2k21!!!

Underrated character:

SAMANTHA LARUSSO!!! The amount of hate my girl gets for acting like a normal teenager and fucking up occasionally JUST like the rest of the cast makes me want to start punching things. She cares SO MUCH about her friends!!! And she loves the shit out of Miguel!!! She hasn’t always been the best friend but you know what??? Neither has Hawk, and we still forgave his ass!!! Also LET HER BE FEMININE but also kick utter ass, my god!!! Femininity should not be synonymous with being weak, y’all! ALSO DEMETRI, like yes, he likes to complain and occasionally run his mouth, but guess what else he likes to do??? Never give up on the love of his life his best friend Eli Moskowitz and refuse to lose faith in him no matter how much of a little shit he’s become, and I for one think that’s very badass of him. Also the way he takes care of Eli pre-Cobra Kai in his own snarky bastard way makes me absolutely Weak and needs more appreciation. Like the dude has charisma and COULD have probably made other friends and left Eli behind if he wanted, but did he??? No, he wants the weepy loser with the lip scar in the polo shirts and dorky sweaters and will protect him as much as his wimpy ass is able!!!

Underrated ship (don’t say therapy, lol):  

Among the adults, Daniel/Amanda!!! Like maybe I just don’t watch that much tv, but it seems kinda rare to me to see a happily married hetero couple, and it’s just nice to see a married couple who genuinely love each other and where there’s not like...lingering resentment or some shit. I feel like this ship gets overshadowed by Lawrusso a lot (which like--okay, fair!!! Daniel and Johnny do have a ridiculous amount of chemistry, and the gay undertones are undeniable, so I get it), and it makes me kinda sad. I do love Lawrusso, but I don’t like when Amanda has to get her heart broke for it to happen, you feel? Among the kids, honestly YasMoon. Like I really love the idea of Yasmine trying to better herself because of Moon’s influence on her and because Moon like...inspires her to be a better person, I guess? With their pretty strong friendship, it just makes more sense to me for Yasmine to get a redemption arc through Moon than through Demetri. ALSO girls DO often pull the whole “mean girl” shtick to cover up being closeted lesbians, and Moon IS canonically bi, so it could work!!! I just think this one could be a really interesting Friends to Lovers take, and could make a really nice coming-out arc for Yas. And MoonPiper too, honestly!!! Like they only got 5 seconds of screentime so I understand WHY it’s underrated, but I still love what we DID get and loved that there was a canon gay ship (even if only for 1 scene lmao). I’m really excited to potentially see more of them in Season 4!!! Please, I’m begging!!!

Wax On, Wax Off or Sweep the Leg?

Sweep the Leg because it will always be deeply hilarious to me how Demetri took note of the first move Eli ever used on him and spent presumably weeks perfecting it OUT OF SPITE just to get him back with it at the soccer game MONTHS later. Just goes to show how OBSESSED Demetri is with Eli and their little karate rivalry which is just NOT straight, I’m sorry

Which of Daniel’s dumb little outfits is your favorite?

There’s something so funny about this pretentious little fuck walking around in fancy suits once he becomes a #SuccessfulBusinessman, and still occasionally trying to do karate in a full-ass suit (take THAT, Tom Cole’s boba!!!) I’m also a big fan of how he looks in his gi with his little headband. Still killing that look as a 40-50-something!!!

Character from the films you most want to return, who’s not Terry Silver:

Tbh I have still never seen a single Karate Kid movie (they took them off of Netflix, RIP), so...I don’t really care if they bring anyone else back??? I’m invested in the characters we already have in the show, I don’t need some rando from the movies to make a cameo to have a good time XD The only character I really wanted them to bring back was Ali, and they already did, so like...I’m good??? That’s all I really needed, I can die in peace now XD

Scene that lives in your head rent-free:

Basically any fluffy Elimetri scene, but 5 in particular: ~Miguel first meeting Eli and Demetri at the lunch table, and Eli looking at Demetri like he hung every goddamn star in the sky ~Demetri going off at a terrifying, “unhinged” karate sensei on the first day of Cobra Kai because he made fun of Eli’s lip and Demetri is not about that shit ~ELI STEALING DEMETRI’S NACHO AND SMIRKING AT HIM, LIKE EXCUSE ME SIR PLEASE BE A LITTLE LESS HOMOSEXUAL IN FRONT OF YOUR GIRLFRIEND ~Eli yanking Demetri onstage during Valley Fest to hold a board, and Demetri being visibly like...extremely turned on when Eli breaks said board ~ELI SAVING DEMETRI DURING THE CHRISTMAS FIGHT, ELI APOLOGIZING, DEMETRI AND ELI KICKING COBRA ASS TOGETHER AKSBDCUWYVCBU

Will Anthony LaRusso ever be relevant?

I hope not! He’s kind of a funny meme character to pop up now and again but I don’t think he deserves a serious plotline when there are so many more interesting characters to follow.

You live in The Valley and are forced into the karate gang war. Which dojo do you join?

Miyagi-Do because Cobra Kai would eat me alive. Also I’d probably straight up get stuck and die in that cement mixer, if I even made it that far XD Besides, being salty that your friend who you have a crush on likes martial arts better than you and starting martial arts to impress them but also being too lazy to join anything TOO intense is a Big Mood and I am certainly not speaking from personal experience here, no sirree

What’s your training montage song?

"Shut Up and Drive” by Rihanna for a weight-training and bicep-flexing montage, “Whatever It Takes” by Imagine Dragons for a more intense punching-and-kicking-shit montage. I don’t know why this is, I just feel it in my heart.

It’s the crossover event of the century! Which TV show are you combining with Cobra Kai for an hour-long Saturday night special?

*Briefly panics because I don’t actually watch that much TV and most of the stuff I do watch is fantasy/sci fi shit that absolutely would not work for a CK crossover*

Hmmmm okay but ACTUALLY

You know what would be fucking funny as hell would be an It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia crossover. Allow me to elaborate: ~The Gang goes to LA on vacation during the height of the Karate Dojo Wars. They literally can get barely anything done without all these goddamn karate-fighting teenagers getting in the way. ~They are all very annoyed by this. Even the most obscure of tourist attractions is eventually intercepted by karate fights. ~Mac tries to join Cobra Kai because he sees all this karate fighting on, and wants to unquestionably prove both his badassery and masculinity. Both Johnny and Kreese are like “Wtf are you doing here? Aren’t you like 30?” ~Mac gets a planet-sized crush on Johnny after all of 5 minutes and endlessly gushes to the gang about him. The gang mercilessly roast him about this and about how much of a pathetic loser with his life together in no way whatsoever Johnny sounds like. They proceed to have exactly 0 self awareness about this. ~The Waitress is in town visiting family or something, and Charlie is stalking her, as per usual. However, every time he’s about to go up and talk to her, a pack of battling Miyagi-Dos and Cobra Kais throwing punches and kicks everywhere blocks his path. One times, Mac is among one of these packs and Charlie is like “???? He didn’t get kicked out of that teen karate dojo yet???” ~Seeing how much the Kids These Days seem to like fighting, Charlie drops by a local high school to try and sell Fight Milk to the kids doing karate. Only Kyler and Brucks buy into it, and subsequently get the entire West Valley High wrestling team sick. Charlie is inevitably arrested, as Counselor Blatt thinks he’s selling the kids drugs. ~Dennis makes a plan to have sex with every hot chick he can in Los Angeles. He meets Ali on a dating app post-divorce, and inevitably tries to bang her. It doesn’t work. ~Frank crashes the rental car, and inevitably the gang ends up at one of Daniel’s dealerships. Dee quickly takes a liking to Daniel and is like “Watch, assholes--Imma homewreck this guy’s marriage.” She starts frequenting the dealerships to attempt to flirt with Daniel, until one day she walks in on him having sex with Johnny in a back room and she’s like “Is that the guy from Mac’s goddamn dojo?!?!” ~Dennis, of course, tries to sleep with Amanda. Amanda is not having it, and rebukes him in the most snarky, Amanda-esque way possible. Dennis is just like “Oh not AGAIN--the women in this goddamn diva city have too high of standards!” ~Later on, the gang is at the beach and Dennis spots the blonde lady he went out on an ill-fate date with, and decides to give it another shot--that is, until he sees her go up and kiss another woman and he’s like “IS THAT THE LADY FROM THE CAR DEALERSHIP??? STUPID-KARATE-KICK-COMMERCIAL’S WIFE?!? YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.” ~Dee complains to Dennis about her lack of luck getting laid, and Dennis is just like “Oh come ON, is everyone in Los Angeles gay???” Smash cut to Hawk and Demetri having sex, Moon and Piper making out, Bert and Nate holding hands, Chris and Mitch doing oral, and Amanda, Ali, and Carmen having a threesome. ~Frank tries to scam Kreese into buying cheaply-made karate equipment for his dojo. The gang ends up having to leave LA because Kreese is quite literally plotting all of their murders.

For tagging, uuuuhhhhhh @jackonthelongwalk @soe-leo @max-eagle-fang @cc-tinslebee @backawayfromthegay @asphodel-storm do the thing, if y’all haven’t yet!

[mikasaessucasaa]

Title: Flatlanders

Summary: After being forced to retire from singing, Sansa returns to Winterfell Ranch, a place she hasn’t called home in over ten years, and finds the man that she left behind all those years ago.

Part 1 .... Part 2

1991

King’s Landing, TX

Sansa’s hair was a frizzy mess. It wasn’t usually so humid this far inland, but of course the moment she came back was the same week that the summer storms started. It only ever rained once a year when she lived in LA.

And now she was trekking around town when the sky looked like it was about to open up. She needed to fix a broken fence that’s been neglected for weeks. And she needed to talk to the bank and get their finances sorted. What the hell has Arya been doing all this time?

Fence first. Bank later. And maybe she’ll get so busy getting wood that she might not even have to see Petyr.

And of course it started pouring as soon as she pulled up to the Night's Watch General Store. Damn. It better not be a flash flood. She should have listened when Mama told her to bring a damn umbrella. Bless Sansa’s heart.

Accepting her fate, she steeled herself and made a dash from the truck to the front door. Even the thirty seconds it took her to get inside was enough to make her look like a drowned rat. Forget frizzy hair, her auburn hair was soaked and limp.

She was greeted by a familiar face, but she couldn’t place his name, not having seen him in over a decade. He was scrawny and of average height with short cropped hair.

“Sansa! Woah, never thought I’d see you again in these neck of the woods.”

Honestly, neither did she.

She looked at his name badge. Ah. Pyp. One of Jon’s lackeys who used to follow him around high school. She thought it was adorable back then. She wondered if he still talked to Jon.

“Jon’s gonna be so happy to see you.” She doubted it, but she nodded and smiled. “How can I help ya today?”

“Got a whole section of my fence broken. I think from lightning a couple of weeks ago.”

Pyp showed her a couple of different options. She wanted to buy the cedar since it would last longer through the unpredictable Texas weather, but she saw their finances, and Mama definitely understated just how much trouble the ranch was in. She didn’t know how long her own cash was going to last with her singing voice now gone.

So she went with the pine instead. She’ll deal with it later.

“I’ll give you the friends and family discount,” Pyp said when he rung her up. As she was signing the check, he pulled out another piece of paper and asked, “Do you mind also signing this? My niece loves your music. She’s always jamming to your album on her little boombox.”

Sansa hadn't thought she was that popular. She had one or two songs played on the radio nationally, and produced a couple of songs for commercials. She bet it was her local celebrity fame that made her popular down here.

She gave her signature and hauled ass out of her store with her fence posts while the rain momentarily stopped. She covered her new purchase with a tarp and settled back into her truck.

She checked the time, and damn the bank was still open.

So she made her way over to the Eyrie Bank. Her parents had only ever gone to one bank their entire life because it was owned by a family friend. Papa had been good friends with Jon Arryn for a long time before he passed, and then Aunt Lysa remarried a childhood friend, Petyr Baelish.

To Sansa, Petyr had always been the creepy uncle, but if anyone could help her sort out the mess with the ranch, he could.

There weren’t many customers when she entered the bank, so of course they let Petyr know right away that she was there to see him.

He smiled that creepy smile that he always had, as if he wanted to devour her. It was the same look music producers always gave her when she entered the room. They always undressed her with their eyes first before they bothered listening to her demos.

And she smiled back, as he leaned forward and held her in a too intimate hug. Gross. “Sansa, my dear. It’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you so much over these last twelve years.”

“Same here, Uncle Baelish.”

“I wish you had come to visit more often.”

“Well you know what it’s like for artists trying to break in.”

“I can’t imagine what it’s like to give up everything to chase your dreams. You’re so brave.” Liar. Everybody knew that Sansa was forced to leave.

Sansa smiled more. “Thank you Uncle.”

Baelish led them to his private office, and the way that he patted her shoulder after he closed the door made her uncomfortable, but she held it in as she watched him take a seat.

“So how can I help you, my sweetling?”

“I need you to walk me through the Winterfell finances.”

“Certainly, I’ll make it as easy as I can for you to follow.”

Sansa started tapping her finger against the arm rest.

She resented his insinuation. She didn’t finish high school, but she learned to manage her finances, learned how much the Lannisters stole from her, knew how much she willfully turned away from because she needed the Lannisters as much as she hated them.

Still he did make it easy for her to understand, all the while outlining all of the paperwork.

Mama had been behind on bank payments for a long time, even after being given extensions consistently. Eventually, even Petyr’s generosity, so he says, couldn’t save the ranch. So Robb took out a private loan to cover the bank payments.

“Another bank?” she asked.

“No more personal than that. I believe Robb was good friends with Rhaegar’s boy.” He probably wanted to say bastard, but knew better since he was Robb’s best friend.

But she couldn't believe that Robb would be stupid enough to take out a loan from the Valyrian Dragons. Maybe he had a death wish after all.

“And that’s what’s keeping the ranch afloat now? Do you know how much we owe?”

Petyr gave a number and it wasn’t absurd, but, “This interest rate is insane. We won’t ever be able to touch the principle.”

Petyr shrugged. “I did try to warn your dear brother. I told him that it would be better for the bank to repossess the ranch. We would have certainly allowed your family to manage it still.” But he would own it all. “But alas your brother couldn’t see sense.”

She couldn’t tell if Robb was a prideful fool, or smart not to fall into bed with Petyr.

She thanked Petyr for his time and headed to the Dragon’s clubhouse. She had dreaded this part of coming home. Sansa hadn’t seen Jon in twelve years, and she didn’t know what kind of man he grew up to be. He had always been kind and sweet as a child, but kind and sweet men don’t join the Valyrian Dragons.

But she had to know if Robb had a plan all along, or if he was dumb enough to leave his family and the ranch at the mercy of the Dragons.

The clubhouse didn’t know if it wanted to be an auto shop or a bar or a boarding house, just the kind of trashy place that you would find in the south, because what else could it be?

She never thought she’d actually step in this place.

When she was still in school, the girls used to whisper about how they dreamed they would lose their virginities to one of the Dragons’ members. Egg would be ideal, with his pretty boy charm and silver hair, but Jon would do — he may have been shy back then, but the girls all took it as mysterious and dangerous. She wondered if the girls’ assumptions became true in his adulthood.

She assumed Egg must have been successful in popping a lot of cherries, but in her loneliness she sometimes liked to think that she was the only one for Jon, that she was somehow special, despite the mess she left.

There were a couple of pretty girlies loitering in the bar area of the clubhouse when she entered. They teetered around on high heels and tight skirts and tops, and suddenly Sansa wished she had the foresight to dress for battle. Instead she was wearing her stupid ripped jeans, work boots, and a white tee with a flannel shirt.

The girlies turned to look at her and their excited chatter died down. She’s guessing the red hair gave her away, or she really was more popular than she thought.

Out of the crowd of girlies, a silver haired woman emerged in black stilettos, leather pants and a black corset top. Shit, who could wear leather pants in this weather except for Daenerys Stormborn?

“So it’s true, the prodigal Stark daughter returns,” Dany said sweetly, but Sansa knew there was nothing sweet about the woman. She was all fire and ash. Dany probably thrived on the club wars.

Sansa shrugged. “Everyone’s gotta come home sometime.”

“Only when they’re incapable of surviving the world out there.”

“But at least I went out into the world.” Instead of being trapped in this hellhole.

“Only goes to show that you don’t belong here.”

“Winterfell is my home.” Even Sansa would have rolled her eyes at herself if she heard her speak.

“But the clubhouse isn’t. What do you want?”

“I need to speak to Jon.”

“No. You left him a mess all those years ago, and you think you can come waltzing in here years later and just talk to him? Wake up honey. He won’t want to talk to you.” Dany crossed her arms. “Whatever you want to say to Jon, you can tell to his girl.”

Dany had always wanted to claw her way into the Targaryens, maybe she finally did.

“It’s got nothing to do with you Dany.”

Dany waved her hand, flashing an engagement ring. “See this here? Says it’s got everything to do with me, missy.”

Sansa’s heart started pounding uncomfortably in her chest and she felt nauseous and lightheaded. Shit. Of all the damn times to have an anxiety attack.

She stumbled backwards into something solid.

“Sansa.”

The low, broken sound snapped her towards the man.

“Jon,” Sansa said, equally as broken.

Part 3

[farfromsugafanfic]

Innocence

Genre: Mafia AU, Angst, Fluff

Pairing: Namjoon/Reader

Warnings: violence, guns/gun violence, cursing, violence against women, home invasion

Synopsis: When you end up getting caught in the crossfire, you’re brought to the local mafia leader who promises to rehabilitate you. Although, falling in love you certainly wasn’t part of the plan.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

"Shit, she's bleeding out," someone said from a few feet away.

"What? Who?"

"I don't know some random lady."

You moaned in pain as a pair of boots approached you and eventually, you could make out the fuzzy face of someone crouching over you. You couldn't tell where the pain was coming from, only that you felt it rippling through your body

"Fuck, Namjoon doesn't like when innocent people get hurt. We've gotta take her back with us."

"What? Isn't that just part of it? Innocent people get caught up in this shit all the time."

"Not the way Namjoon does it, come on, come grab her legs."

As one of the men looped his arms underneath your armpits, you felt one final jolt of pain that felt like it was ripping your body apart before everything went black.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

"Is she going to live?" one of the men who'd brought you back asked.

"Yes, barely," Namjoon said, his face firm and his voice steadier than normal. "You're sure it wasn't one of your bullets?"

"All of our bullets were accounted for, sir."

Namjoon nodded. "If I find out either of you are lying, you know the consequences?"

Both men nodded in understanding.

The doctor emerged from the room where you were. "She's waking up, sir. I'll leave the rest to you. Call me if she starts showing any concerning signs."

Namjoon nodded and waved the doctor off and entered your room.

If it weren't for the drab gray appearance of the room, it would've looked like you were in a normal hospital room. An IV in your arm and white sheets pulled up to your chin. Your eyes were still closed, but your heart monitor was beginning to slowly pick up from it's near flat line when you'd arrived.

He pulled a stool from the corner of the room and sat next to your watching as your chest moved slowly up and down. The doctor had extracted the bullet and cleaned the blood from your skin and clothes. Your bloody jeans and sweatshirt had been washed and were folded on a table in the corner of the room. Your hair was still dirty, but the blood washed from its tips.

You looked younger than when he'd first seen you and it only made his chest ache. He had no idea who you were or what you had been doing in that part of town, but you certainly didn't deserve the bullet in your shoulder. It had nearly missed your collarbone and the important blood vessels, but you'd still lost enough blood to be anemic.

Your eyelids began to flutter and Namjoon sat still as he met them.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

You opened your eyes and were immediately met with a pair of unfamiliar brown ones.

"Hello," the man said. He sat with his elbows on his thighs and his hands clasped together.

Other than the fact that you had no idea who the man was, the more concerning thing was that you had no idea where you were and you were seemingly alone with him. If you had to take a guess, the room almost seemed like a storage room of some sort; a cement floor and shelves lining all but two of the walls. They were mostly empty except for vague medical supplies.

"Where am I?" you asked, the beep of your heart monitor beginning to quicken.

"You're safe." The man sat up straighter, but his eyes never left you. "I'm Kim Namjoon. What's your name?"

You eyed him suspiciously. "Y/N."

"Just Y/N," he asked, his eyebrow arching.

"For now."

He chuckled before getting up and heading for a sink in the corner of the room. He filled a glass and walked back over to you with a pill in his hand.

"Take this," he said, placing the pill in your palm and holding the glass above you for when you were ready. You stared at him for a moment before glancing down at the pill. It looked normal and based upon the fact that this man was most likely the one responsible for saving your life, he would have no reason to kill you now, right? "It's an iron supplement. Cause you lost so much blood. You'll have to take them every day for a couple months."

You nodded and placed the pill in your mouth and swallowed it down. There was a feeling in the pit of your stomach that you could trust Namjoon, at least that he wouldn't kill you.

"Now, I need you to tell me everything you remember from the night you were shot."

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

You were on your way home after work. You'd just graduated and started in an entry-level position at your dream company, but it left you exhausted and overworked. It was already nearly 11 and you knew you should've allowed your co-worker to drive you home, but you didn't know him well enough yet to trust him with where you lived.

You normally felt fairly safe walking through the city by yourself. You'd grown up there and you knew the areas to avoid, but you were tired and decided to take a short cut through a rougher neighborhood.

You took out your headphones and increased your pace so that you were walking faster than your normal pace, but wouldn't look too scared or suspicious.

For the first ten minutes, everything was normal, but as you neared the end of the neighborhood and the beginning of yours, you heard yelling. You looked around and couldn't find a source, so you kept walking and as you crossed an alleyway, a man ran into you, knocking off your feet.

You sat up, your vision a little blurry and your head still coming off its daze. As your vision came back, you stood up and braced yourself against the wall. That's when you looked up and the shot came. You couldn't see who shot you, if they meant to, or if it was just an accident. Heck, you couldn't even tell which direction the bullet came from.

You fell to your knees and eventually on your back. At first, the pain was unbearable, you felt the blood pouring out of your shoulder, although couldn't tell if it was from the back or front. But, eventually, the pain ceased and your eyelids began to feel heavy. It was soon after the man lifted you that a final burst of pain caused everything to go black.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

"You don't know who shot you?" he asked. The darkness in his eyes as he asked the question caused the pain in your shoulder to flare.

You shook your head. "It happened too fast."

He nodded, before getting up and leaving the room without another word. You then only saw strangers as they came to give you meals or check your wound which still had a long way to heal.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

"Morning," Namjoon said, in the exact same cadence he said it every morning. He laid a tray over your lap which had a spinach and cheese omelet, toast, and a rotating menu of meats. Today was two slices of bacon. And, of course, on the side was a pair of iron supplements.

"Think you can eat it all today?" he asked. While you needed the nutrients, you had basically no appetite most of the time, but today, the toast was spread with a red jam it usually wasn't, which made you bite into it immediately. Raspberries. Your favorite. "Why don't you tell me about your job today?"

He pulled a chair to your bed and flipped it around and sat on it backward, allowing his arms to dangle off the top. The two of you had promised to tell each other something about each other each day. You knew it was a way to get information out of you and monitor your well being, but you didn't really mind. It started to become one of your favorite parts of the day.

"I'll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours."

He stiffened at that. You had your suspicions that Namjoon's job was less than legal considering how you ended up meeting him. You just weren't sure exactly what it was he did. Was he some sort of drug lord? A gang member? A pimp? Your stomach turned at the possibilities.

"Okay," he said. "You just have to promise that you won't be scared of me."

"O-okay."

He nodded, although you knew he caught the shaking in your voice. "You first."

"I—uh—I work for a non-profit that benefits women who have been victims of violence," you said. "I help process all the donations and make sure all the finances match up. I was an accounting major in college, but I didn't really feel like doing other people's taxes for the rest of my life. I want to feel like I'm making some sort of difference. Even though I don't make as much money, I feel like it's worth it."

"You are," he said. "You are making a difference."

Silence filled the room for a few moments, but it wasn't awkward or tense, it was simply you and Namjoon in your own thoughts. His eyes locked on you and your eyes unconsciously noticed the dimples on his cheeks that appeared and disappeared as he talked.

"All right, you promised," you said. "Your turn."

Namjoon's posture straightened and he cleared his throat. "Oh, well, I'm sort of the leader of the local mafia. I mean, it's not quite as nefarious as it seems. It's mostly just money laundering and stuff like that."

"But, you still kill people?"

"I never have. My men do only when necessary."

You gulped and pulled your eyes away from him. "Then, why did you save me?"

"Because I don't like innocent people getting hurt."

"How did this happen? How did you become the leader? You--you just don't seem like the type."

"My family," he said. "They kind of started this whole thing. I went to college and everything, but ultimately, I didn't know how to be anything else."

"You know you could always leave it behind. You're the leader. You could end all of this."

"It's not that easy. If I end it, I immediately become a target or someone would start it back up. And, let's just say, you don't want this kind of operation falling into the wrong hands. Many wouldn't have batted an eye at you getting shot."

"Don't think you're the hero here. Whether or not it was your men who shot me, whether or not you chose to save me, I still got shot because of you."

Namjoon's jaw stiffened and he crossed his arms over his chest. "You're right, I'm sorry," he said. "Although, it's not quite as easy to just leave."

"What did you study in college?"

"Huh?" He paused. "Literature and Writing."

You smiled. "Why don't you read to me?" you asked. "I never really got to take any literature classes in college and I missed them. I still have longer to recover. You could read to me whenever you wanted to."

"I'd like that," Namjoon said, his dimples appearing and lighting up his face.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

You laid back with your head and neck pressing back against the pillow as you closed your eyes as Namjoon's voiced lulled you asleep. You knew it wasn't just his voice and the way his voice took on a smooth rhythm as he read or the way his voice grew hoarse eventually. The doctor had slowly been weaning you off of the painkillers, while the pain wasn't as intense as before, it still exhausted you.

He was reading from Jane Eyre a book you certainly hadn't expected Namjoon to choose. The gothic element was enough to send shivers down your spine, but not keep you from falling asleep.

You were halfway through the book now and you knew you would never finish. Your condition was improving and you barely needed pain medication anymore. The doctor came once a day and today he had told you that he thought you'd be able to go back to your own apartment and life the next day.

Namjoon stopped reading and it jolted you out of your half-slumber.

"Why'd you stop?"

"I thought you were asleep."

You opened your eyes and shook your head, although your eyelids were only half open crescent moons and the way you were forcing them open made Namjoon chuckle.

"You're tired, anyway," he said. He closed the book and stood up from his chair. "Goodnight. Sleep well."

You watched as Namjoon walked towards the door and felt something in your chest. "Wait," you said. "This is the last night and we haven't finished the story."

"Y/N, we still have half the book left. There's no way--"

"Just stay with me tonight," you said. "I'll have to go back to being in my apartment all alone tomorrow and I don't know. I've enjoyed having you around."

"Y/N--" Namjoon said. "You're just--this isn't right--"

Namjoon's eyes met yours for a second before he ripped them away and walked out of the room with the book still in hand.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

"She--she asked me to stay with her," Namjoon said. He sat in his desk chair with his feet resting up on the desk, something he only did when he was thinking deeply.

"Is that a bad thing?" his right-hand man, Yoongi asked. "You like her, right?"

"Yes, but Yoongi, she hasn't been out of that room for weeks. She's only seen me and the doctor with only a couple of exceptions. It's just Stockholm Syndrome."

"We didn't kidnap her though. She could've left if she wanted."

"Yes, Yoongi, but why would she? She would've had to pay for medical care elsewhere. Even if we didn't mean to, we trapped her here. She's hardly seen anyone but me. Of course, she'll become attached."

"It's not like you were torturing her, Joon. You were helping her and I see the way you look at her too. Everyone does."

"If I wanted to, I can't give her the life she deserves. She's doing good things, Yoongi. She's innocent and I want her to stay that way." Yoongi nodded in his head in understanding, but there lingered a small glint of hesitation in his eyes. "And, even if I could, keeping her around her is dangerous. If our rivals found out about her, she'd become a target."

Namjoon sighed and stood up from his desk and shuffled through his papers. "Make sure she gets home safely tomorrow. Keep a couple of men in the area for the next week or so just in case it was a targeted attack."

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

"He's not coming?" you asked the man who introduced himself as Yoongi.

He shook his head and gave you a sympathetic look. "But, he did want me to give you this."

Yoongi reached into his bag and pulled out the copy of Jane Eyre Namjoon had read to you. It was an old copy--at least fifty years old--and he had a bookmark stuck halfway through. You opened to the marked page and found his handwriting on the bookmark. He wrote in black ink. It was neat, although smudged around the edges because he'd closed the book on it when the ink was still wet.

It's your turn to read now Namjoon x

Your eyes focused down on the 'x'. It certainly didn't mean anything, it was just his way of signing off, but it left you satisfied as you walked out of the door escorted by Yoongi and a few other men.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

3 months later

"Y/N!" one of your coworkers said, rushing into your office. "You're never going to believe this."

"What?" you asked looking up from your work.

"Some guy just came in here. He was so handsome and wearing a fancy suit and he wrote us a thirty thousand dollar check." She held up the check so you could see it.

"No way," you said, grabbing the check from her hands. You held it up to the light and placed it under the black light you had to verify authentic donations. You had a weird feeling in your gut and you glanced down at the signature on the check. You couldn't make out a particular name, but a shiver ran down your spine. "What was his name?"

"Oh, well, I don't think he told us his real name. But, you know the rich types, always wanting to protect their identities."

"Y/C/N, what. was. his. name?"

"Mr. Rochester."

6 months later

"We're a bit short his month, Y/N," your boss said. "You know I hate to deduct from wages. It wasn't much this month."

You nodded. It was the reality of working for a non-profit. Sometimes you got paid and sometimes you didn't, but you knew the money was going to people more deserving of yourself. You waited until you were on your way home to open the envelope and see just how much you were getting that month. When your eyes met the total, you slowly looked down before continuing onto your apartment.

You pushed the key into the lock wondering just how you were going to scrounge up enough money for next month's rent. You could always sell something or do some odd jobs on the weekends. You opened your door and stepped inside feeling your foot slip forward, causing you to nearly trip, your only savior is your right hand was still holding on to the doorknob.

You got your footing and bent down to find a small envelope that was slid under your door. Your name was printed neatly on it. Normally, this would freak you out, but you noticed the same black ink from the bookmark in the copy of Jane Eyre.

I know money has been tight. Here's rent for the next couple months. Keep doing what's important x Mr. Rochester

Tears came to your eyes and your bit your index finger as you read the note over and over again. He was absolutely insufferable and part of you wanted to rip up the check, but instead, you slipped it out of the envelope and into your purse.

9 months later

It was a quiet Saturday night when you heard the knock at your door. It was nearly 11 pm and you weren't expecting anyone. You were already in your pajamas and you had picked up Jane Eyre for the first time in a few months. It wasn't that you found it particularly hard to read, but every time you picked it up, you were reminded of him. The man you had no idea why you still thought about. The man who occasionally came into your life and then left just as quickly.

The knock came again and louder this time. This time panic rushed down your spine and you froze. Was it best to approach the door and give away the fact you weren't asleep? Or was it best to just act like you'd already done to bed and hope they go away?

You stayed put, but clutched your cellphone close to you. Another knock never came, but instead the rustling of the doorknob and the clicking of the lock. It was when you heard it successfully unlock that you ran towards the kitchen. You grabbed your largest kitchen knife and crouched in the corner.

You were in the middle of dialing emergency services when you were yanked up by your hair and your cellphone went clattering to the floor.

"Ah, yes, you are her," the man said.

You didn't recognize the man in front of you. He was taller than you and held your hair in a tightening grip that caused you to whimper.

"You're plainer than I expected. He's head over heels for you, so I figured you must be beautiful. But, I guess, you must have better things to offer." He smirked, but unlike the smirks Namjoon sometimes let slip, this one terrified you.

"Who are you?" you asked.

"It doesn't matter to you baby girl," he said. "All you need to know is that you're going to die."

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

"Namjoon!" Yoongi said, running into the room, breathless. His face was red and his eyes were creased, almost in fear. It was uncommon for Yoongi to get so worked up, let alone run. He spoke when he finally caught his breath, "Min-sung," he said. "Min-sung was seen near her apartment."

Min-sung had once been a trusted man, but he began getting greedy. Wanting to take all the jobs. Skimming money off the top. He felt betrayed when Namjoon finally let him go. You'd think he'd be grateful, most other bosses would've had him killed for how much money he stole, but no. Min-sung's mind was only focused on the drugs he took and the money he needed to buy them.

Namjoon's eyes widened. He pulled open his desk drawer, nearly pulling the entire drawer out of it's setting. He pulled out a handgun and fed in the clip. It had not once been fired. Namjoon had never had the urge nor the need to kill, until that very moment.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

"I'm going to play with you," he said. "To let him know you suffered. His precious little secret on the south side of the city."

"Please, I don't know who you're talking about. The walls are thin. I'm sure the neighbors are worried by now." Both were lies, but you hoped it came off convincing enough. He'd let go of your hair, but now he straddled you.

"Tell me, how do you want to die?"

"I don't want to die."

He laughed. "Of course not, sweetheart. But, you're going to. I'm being generous and giving you a choice. I could take that knife you had when I came in and stab you or I could kill you with my hands on your throat. Or, I could hold your head down in the bathtub and watch as you writhe around--"

Tears pushed out of your eyes and you felt blood sprout from your bottom lip as you dug into it. You squirmed underneath the man trying to wriggle yourself free or one of your limbs free.

"You know, I haven't really given much thought to dying," you said. You slowly slipped your foot upwards until you had enough leverage to bring your knee into his crotch.

He doubled over in enough pain for you to free yourself. You ran back towards the kitchen to grab the knife from earlier. You wrapped your palm around the hilt, but he was behind you before you could turn around. With all your might, you forced the knife backward, but it was at an awkward angle. Yet, you still heard him wince.

The knife dropped from your hand and the man turned you around, forcing your back against the counter. You noticed a long cut on his arm and felt a small sense of pride. At least if he was going to kill you, he would have a scar.

His hands wrapped around your neck and his thumbs sat right on top of your windpipe. You made eye contact with him as he pushed down and you made a small croaking sound as your eyes grew wider and your toes pointed in reaction to the lack of air.

"Stop...please...help...Namjoon..."

You managed only a few words before you ran out of air to manage any sounds. Your vision was beginning to blur and you knew in a few seconds you'd black out and it'd be the end.

The last few moments were so loud you couldn't make out what happened. Yelling, shuffling, a slam of a door, a loud pop. Then, it was all over.

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

"Y/N, Y/N, please come back to me."

You opened your eyes to see Namjoon crouched over you. Blood stained his shirt and even parts of his skin, but his hand was clean as it caressed your cheek softly.

"Thank God," he said. "I thought I was too late. The doctor is on his way and so are my men to clean up everything. We'll pay off the neighbors to keep things quiet if we have to. You don't need to worry."

"I'm not worried, Namjoon." Your voice was hoarse and still not all the way there. You felt the bruises forming on your neck and your entire body ached. You turned you head to see your attacker laying in a pool of blood a few feet away.

"Hey, hey, don't look at that. Come on."

"I'm not a child."

"That doesn't mean you need to see a dead guy on your kitchen floor."

He lifted you up and carried you into your bedroom. After setting you down, he went back out to the living area and grabbed the copy of Jane Eyre.

"You didn't get very far."

"I've been busy."

﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤

1 year later

Namjoon is almost done setting up everything in his new office when he hears a soft knock at the door. A delivery person carrying a large bouquet of flowers strides in and sets the vase on his desk and left without a word.

Curious, Namjoon walked from the corner of the room where he had been shelving books and to the center of the room. He plucked the card from among the flower heads.

I finally found time to finish the book. Congrats on the new job. Let's meet soon. Love, Jane

[winjennster]

Hellscape

An F3 tornado ripped through Lebanon on a quiet evening. When it was over, Sam and Cas rushed into town--Dean had left for a supply run just before the storm struck and he wasn’t answering his phone. Driving into Lebanon, Cas looked around in worry. The town was a virtual hellscape, and the local diner was on fire. 

“Oh my god,” Sam breathed. 

The Impala sat in front of the Post Office, a large tree branch through her windshield. 

“Oh no,” Cas whispered. He was out of the truck before Sam fully stopped. Cas yanked open the driver’s door but it was clear Dean wasn’t in the car. His relief was short lived--they still had no idea where Dean was. 

Sam used his spared key to get a couple of large flashlights out of the trunk. “C’mon, let’s check out the post office first.”

The post office was empty, and largely intact save a broken front window. No one was inside. Back outside, they both stood and stared at the burning diner. Firefighters moved quickly, hooking up hoses and drenching the flames.

“You don’t think--”

“No, Cas. Don’t even think it.”

Moving on, they checked the gas station, the pharmacy, and the town offices. No Dean. In the library, they helped a young woman named Jackie get herself unburied from some overturned bookcases. 

“Sam, I’m so happy to see you,” she said. “I thought I was going to be stuck here for a while.”

“I’m glad we could help. Look, you haven’t seen Dean today, have you?”

“Yes! He was here for a bit. Sometimes he comes and reads to the kids in the afternoon, but the storm kicked up, and he left to see a few of the older ones home.”

“He--he comes here and reads to the children?” Cas asked. 

“Yes, he has been for awhile.”

Damned if that didn’t make Cas’s heart swell with affection. “The Impala is in front of the post office. We can’t find him.”

“Oh no--well Andy lives three houses past the post office. So that’s probably where he is.”

“Thanks so much, Jackie,” Sam said. “We can come back tomorrow and help you deal with all of this mess.”

“I would really appreciate it. Let me know if you can’t find Dean. I have all the kids’ addresses that were here today.”

Sam and Cas thanked her and hurried to the house she mentioned...except the house wasn’t there. Just the garage was left standing. “I got a feeling. Let’s look for the storm shelter door.”

Cas nodded, and they pushed through the broken garage door. They found the storm cellar doors easily. They were barred from inside. 

Sam banged on them. “Anyone in there?” he called. 

A moment later the doors were unlatched and opened and very dirty Dean smiled wearily at them. “Damn, I’m glad to see you guys. I got a pile of terrified kids in here and I was running out of books to read them.”

The relief Cas felt at seeing Dean’s dirty face was staggering. “We can take them all to the library to wait for their parents. It’s damaged but the children’s wing is intact. Lots of books there.”

Dean nodded and he started handing the kids out to Sam and Cas. There were five kids in all, ranging from twelve to as young as six. They all wanted to hold Dean’s hand. Back at the library, two parents were waiting, worried, thrilled when Dean showed up with the kids. Four of the kids were immediately returned to their parents. 

Dean lifted little Katie into his arms, the six year still waiting for her folks. “Sam, can you go let the police know I have Katie Gleeson at the library. I’m going to stay with her until her mom gets here. And then we gotta get that branch out of my baby and get her home too.”

“I’ll take care of the cops and the car. Cas can bring you home in the truck.”

Nodding, Dean trudged up the steps into the library.

“Man, he’s beat. Try and look him over for injuries, just like him to hide it.”

“I will.”

Back inside, Cas walked back to the children’s wing, smiling at the sight. Dean had Katie in his lap, and she had her thumb in her mouth and one little fist curled into Dean’s jacket. He was reading to her, his voice soft and sweet.

“I love you so much,” Cas whispered to himself.

Dean looked up and smiled. “Love you,” he mouthed, before returning to the book.

Also on AO3--this is my attempt at @winchester-reload‘s Suptober2020. A series of drabbles, one for each day, with the day’s theme used somewhere in the ficlet. <3

[67impalaandwhisky]

Destiny Is Heaven Sent

Summary: Knowing Dean Winchester since you were fifteen, you’ve always been pulled in his direction. Always wanting to open up the rattled and broken cage your heart lives in. But when the child you’ve been raising together dies, you find yourself closing up the cage of your heart again. And if destiny has one thing for you, it’s to break you down before bringing you back up.

Characters: Dean x You, Sam, Castiel, Bobby, OFC’s, OMC’s, (Ongoing) 

This Series Is Set Through Seasons 1-6 With Knowledge That The Bunker Exists

Rating: 18+

Warnings (Ongoing and Will Be Updated): Grieving, Mentions of Rape and Defilement (As Per A Case), Show Level Violence, Swearing, Smut, Impreg Kink, Blood, Fighting, Drinking, Dean Being Dean, Fluff, Angst, Dom!Dean, Sub!Reader

Warnings For This Chapter: Grieving Over Dead OMC, Drinking, Swearing, Flirting

A/N: This is my first Supernatural fic ever! I’ve been writing for a while and have adored Supernatural since the beginning so I’m really excited for this series and I hope everyone enjoys it! 

Chapter 1.

Autumn used to be a season that you adored when you were little. It was the fresh chill of the air and the taste of possibility that clung to the wind. Now you can't help but find it mindlessly awful.

You used to love Halloween and all of the holidays that accompanied soon after. It brought you and your family together. Until your mother died. Then it was just a teeth gritting ride of vengeance by your father, who had loved his wife since he was a teenager.

He did his research, something that you would find harrowing if you didn't grow up in this life. He spent your entire life dragging you around, preparing you to fight against monsters and magic. 

Your father had discovered what had killed your mother when you were fifteen on Christmas Eve. He had left you at the Right Swing Motel to kill the monster on one of your favorite holidays.

You weren't mad then and you still weren't mad now. You couldn't imagine loving someone so much that you were overcome with anguish and the need for revenge. 

When he finally came back to the motel two days later, you had expected him to be relieved. He killed the werewolf that ripped your mother's heart out. You expected him to be your father again. But alas, he seemed angrier and more prone to violence then you could ever imagine.

When he finally died on a job that could never be done alone, you realized just how fucked in the head he had become. Just how overwhelming grief could make you and you swore to yourself that you would never become like him.

Even if that meant setting your emotions aside every time.

Pulling up to the old diner on Route 30, your eyes lazily drift over the parking lot. Spotting the 67' Impala you've grown to know since you were a teenager, you park your car beside it before blowing a bubble in your gum.

You watch the bubble expand and expand before sucking all the air out of it as you step out of your car. Slamming the door shut, your combat boots slap the concrete as you enter the diner.

Taking off your sunglasses, you walk past the waitress as she welcomes you. You give her a brief smile before spotting the men you've grown up with.

Without a word you walk towards them, watching as Dean devours the cheeseburger in hand like he has never eaten a damn thing in his life. Grimacing, you plop yourself down in the booth earning both of their eyes as they slowly drift up from their plates.

"Oh Jesus!" Sam yells, putting his hand over his heart.

"Am I that hideous? My God." You mumble as you grab a french fry off Dean's plate. 

He smacks your hand multiple times earning pink splotches as you slap his hand back.

"Order your own food, Y/N. I'm a growing boy. Gotta eat." He complains as you rest your elbow on the greasy table surface.

"Can I get you anything?" The waitress asks as she approaches. 

"She wants a philly cheese steak, extra onions. No mushrooms or peppers. And, a strawberry milkshake." Dean says as he wipes some crumbs out of the stubble on his chin.

You hum impressed to him before throwing your legs over Sam's lap. 

He's been used to it by now, earning the title as your best friend quite quickly since you were fifteen. His hand wraps around your thigh high combat boots before ignoring Dean's gaze and continuing to eat his salad. 

You steal a cucumber off his plate before looking at his older brother. His eyes were on yours, forest green irises looking over your body intently before looking back down at his food.

"Job?" You ask as Sam holds up the local newspaper he was reading before you arrived.

"Nothing we can't handle. Why don't you go back to the bunker and just relax, hmm?" Dean offers sweetly and you scowl at his suggestion.

"What's with this whole macho man show you've been putting on lately? It's so infuriating, Jesus. I've saved your life so many times and now suddenly I'm a frail crone that has to be a housewife to her two best friends as they go out and fight demons and monsters?" You ask, raising your eyebrows.

He cringes at your words before setting his burger as if it made him feel sickly.

"This job is dangerous." The oldest mumbles and you find yourself suddenly aggravated. When has Dean Winchester ever made you back down from a hunt? When has he ever begged you not to come instead of joining them? 

The answer is never.

"This ghost seems to abduct beautiful, single women and do things to them. I don't want you at risk." You look over to Sam as his brother speaks and you notice how he avoids eye contact with you. 

Your plate of food is set down in front of you and you thank the girl quietly as the tension in the air thickens. Dean Winchester in his whole life has never called you beautiful. He's never even given you the time of day. Which you don't mind really, that's how he's always been. But he's never kept you away from a hunt and you're wholeheartedly offended.

"Then I'll be perfect bait." You reply. 

"I said no." Dean says through gritted teeth.

Sam squeezes your leg gently as if to beg you to not start a fight in a random diner off the highway. 

"I don't give a fuck about what you say Dean Abel." He coughs awkwardly at the middle name you bestowed on him since you were younger. 

You never use it unless you mean business. 

"Y/N. I'm just looking out for you. Jesus Christ." He whispers. 

Folding your arms, you look over at Sam expectantly. You know he hates to be involved in your spats with Dean.

You're both hard headed beasts that don't quit until you get what you want.

"I mean...When has Y/N ever backed down from a fight? When has she ever been anything but safe with us?" Sam says, still avoiding eye contact with his brother.

If looks could kill, Sam would be dead against the window of the diner.

"Thank you Sammy." You say happily before sipping your milkshake. 

Dean makes an angry grunt before leaning back in the booth and throwing a balled up napkin onto his plate.

"What's so wrong with me wanting you safe? Is it a fucking sin?" He asks bitterly as you take a bite of your sandwich.

You look up at him again, watching as he swallowed thickly.

What's his fucking damage today? 

"In your life you've never kept me away from a hunt. In your entire life. I've been attacked by ghosts. Bitten by vampires. Abducted by djinns and you've never batted an eye. Now when there's an abducting ghost you suddenly assume the role of protector?" You ask pointedly, your index finger pressing into his chest across the table.

Dean sniffs before pulling out his wallet and throwing cash onto the table. His large hand runs over his face before he's shoving his hands in his pockets. 

"You're not going. End of story. I am not losing another person." He mumbles before walking out of the diner and leaning on the hood of Baby.

"What the fuck is wrong with him?" You ask his brother loudly.

Sam shoves a fork full of salad into his mouth as he plays with the laces of your combat boots. He seems to be distracting himself so he doesn't have to look at you.

"He's been this way for weeks. He's...I mean he's worried about you. We only just burned Marsh a few weeks ago and he doesn't seem to think you're ready to go back out." Sam says before looking over at you. 

You begin to smile, a feral nasty smirk spreading onto your face. Gripping your legs harder, he widens his eyes at you begging you to stop.

"Let go, Samuel Cain." You seethe through your teeth and he sighs loudly before finally going slack against the leather of your boots.

Jumping out of the booth, you fix your leather jacket. 

It takes a few large steps before you're barreling out the diner door straight towards the boy you've watched become a man.

"You son of a bitch." You curse as you advance on him. 

His head turns to you slowly and his jaw clenches. 

At one time when you were sixteen, you'd find it absolutely hot but now it just sets fire into your veins at a quicker pace.

"Y/N…" His voice is weak as he holds his hands up.

Opening up your hand, you stiffen your arm before jabbing your palm underneath his chin.

With a groan he slides off the hood of his car.

"Come on!" He yells angrily before standing up and opening his mouth before spitting out a drop of blood or two.

"How dare you decide what I need to do! How dare you for one second think that I need to be told to sit one out!" You yell as you grip his jacket. 

Hauling him up, he puts his hands on your shoulders.

"I'm just looking out for you, goddammit! You're not okay, and you won't talk to me! You look through me! I'm trying to protect you! You mean something to me! Fuck!" He yells as he shakes you about.

"Yeah?! Well I don't need your fucki-" You begin to scream before being cut off.

"Guys. They called the cops. We gotta go." Sam says before ripping the door open to the Impala.

Dean lets go of you before huffing out and smacking the hood of his car loudly. 

"This isn't over you asshole." You mutter, jutting your finger to your best friend as you put on your sunglasses.

"Why am I not surprised?" He seethes as you open the door to your car.

It's incredibly insulting. Unbelievably unfathomable. In all your life, Dean Winchester has never thought you were weak. 

These weeks without Marsh haven't been easy but that doesn't mean you're lost. Doesn't mean you haven't given up sight of who you are and how things need to be. He wouldn't want that.

"Hello Y/N." The deep monotone voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you jump slightly at the man now sitting beside you in the passenger's seat.

"God! Cas, what did I tell you?!" You yell, slamming your hand onto the steering wheel.

"To never appear in your car like this." He states matter-of-factly.

Rolling your eyes, you begin to focus back on the road watching as Dean speeds down the highway.

"What? What do you want?" You ask the angel as you lower the music.

"Well. I don't want you to fight with Dean." He says as he stares ahead at the road.

You give a short laugh before clicking your tongue and tilting your head.

"Sorry Cassy, all me and Dean do is fight." You mutter as you open the window. 

"It's okay to not be okay, Y/N. I have been watching you, seeing your inner struggle. I know it's hard without Mar-" 

"First of all, don't watch over me. I don't need you to. Secondly, you don't know anything about how I feel. He was just a kid, Cas. He was fourteen years old for God sake." 

He stays silent as you drive down the road. 

"He's happy where he is. He isn't in Hell." Cas says and you laugh to yourself before biting your bottom lip almost hard enough to draw blood.

You've been there through it all, through the angels and the demons. Through the ghouls and the werewolves. Heaven and Hell were so far off your list of things to think about, just the notion bleeds your very soul. 

"Doesn't mean Dean can try to keep me away from what I need most." You tell the angel as the Impala in front of you turns into the parking lot of a motel.

"And what is that?" He asks as you park beside them.

You open your mouth to answer before shutting off the engine of your car and turning your body to him. He looks upon you blankly as you run your fingers through your hair.

"Can't you see what I need without asking?" You ask quietly. 

He sighs before nodding, "Yes. I see." 

Exiting your car, you don't even look at the oldest as you grab your bag from the back seat. 

"Room?" You call out before opening your trunk and grabbing your duffel bag filled with the usual gun paraphernalia. 

"Seven." Sam says and you don't miss the irony of it. 

Luck could go shove it.

You push past Dean as he holds his hand out for your bags and you hear him curse under his breath.

"Come on." Dean says as he jogs beside you. 

You hold your hand out for the key and it's immediately placed in your hand by the younger brother.

"I'm gonna go for a walk." Sam mutters out.

"Be careful." You and Dean say at the same time. You crack your neck loudly before pushing open the door and dropping your bag onto the small table the cheap motel room offers.

Closing the door behind him, you can hear Dean sigh loudly. 

Fighting was always fun with him in years passed. It was always an adrenaline rush. But, these days you're so far past it. You just want to do your job, have a drink and that's it.

"You can't just shut me out." Dean says, folding his arms and leaning against the wall.

"Yeah? Watch me." You retort as you begin to make lines of salt on the window. 

"Y/N. I mean it. This has fucked you up entirely. I know what it's like to bottle things away until you're overflowing. I know that pain you're hiding. Just talk to me." 

"No!" You bark out before you feel arms wrap around you.

You can smell him. The smell is something akin to home. He smells of whisky and musk. Old leather that is worn and creasing. He smells of gunpowder and mint. 

"Get the fuck off me." You seethe, writhing in his grasp as it tightens.

"I know you. I know you so well- Hell, I practically am you. Don't you dare think it's okay to keep it to yourself. You're strong? Yeah well, sometimes dams break too." You set the bottle of salt down on the table before turning towards him.

His evergreen irises, staring deep into yours. His small freckles that you've counted a number of times since you were fifteen. His gentle stubble, a sign that he's been taking care of himself. 

His thumbs run over the leather of your jacket but you can practically feel the calloused skin on yours.

"If I talk about it, it makes it real. I just want to work. I want to shoot things and save people." You say before ripping your eyes away from him to the gold necklace he adorns.

"This is real, Y/N. A kid that we called our own is gone. His mother. His father. His uncle. Are all without him now." Just those words send you hurtling yourself towards him. 

Breaking free from his grasp, he lets you punch him in the chest. He lets you take your anger out on him. Because he's Dean and he's always here to drink in your sorrow whenever it comes around. Because, in order to be truly emotionless you have to give them away to someone else.

"He was just a kid! He was just a little boy!" You yell as you punch the older man in the jaw. His body makes contact with the floor as your screams become intelligible.

With a groan he pulls himself up before standing still. Your hard punches slowly turn soft and then you're beating on his chest. 

Letting out a shaky breath, he pulls you close to him. You let out a sob, a small garbled noise, into his grey t-shirt. Feeling the cotton absorb your tears as your eyes burn.

"He was a baby. We should have just left him at the orphanage like Bobby told us. We sh-shouldn't have taken him with us." You cry out.

You let the sorrow eat at you for a second. Let your mind wrap around your emotions before closing yourself off once more. Something you're getting almost too good at.

You shove the handsome man away from you before wiping at your face and turning away from him.

"Y/N. He wanted to come with us. We couldn't leave him to the system after everything he had seen. He wanted to grow up and be a hunter. He wanted us. And we wanted him." Dean whispers, you can hear the crack in his voice. The strain of his vocal cords from weary emotion.

"Yeah well, we fucking failed him. We should have never taken him with us."

"He loved you, Y/N. You raised him. You were his mother for years when he didn't have one himself. You made him into a strong boy." He tells you.

You look down at the woven bracelet Marsh had bought you for mother's day with Dean's money and your jaw clenches with grief.

But, Dean was his father too. And, you know it's taken a toll on him as well. You can't be so selfish. 

"He loved you too. You were the father he needed and always wanted. I'm sorry." You say finally before looking out the window at both of your cars as they sit side by side like always.

"Me too. I'm-I'm sorry." He mumbles.

You know that's big for him. Even if he is ever sorrowful getting those two words out is like hot searing pain to him but he at least tries with you.

"We good?" You ask him as you turn back around.

You find him still staring, still drinking you in even with your back turned and your stomach coils like when you were a teenager. 

"Yeah. Yeah, we're good." He says finally before opening his arms. 

You almost take that welcoming before snorting and grabbing the discarded salt on the table.

"Nice try." You mumble before putting salt in front of the door.

"It's not a sin to hug someone." He whispers before grabbing your gun bag and throwing it on his bed.

No but it's a sin to hug him.

"So what's the job?" You ask aloud as you all sit in the dive bar.

Sam holds up the newspaper before sliding it across the table. 

"Annalise Greenlee. An aspiring model, murdered and raped in her apartment. Police say there was no forced entry, all doors and windows were locked. Now, get this-- her body from her kidneys and above were mush. Exploded inside her body while she was dying." Sam says earning widened eyes from you.

"Must be one pretty pissed off bitch." You reply before taking a long sip of your whisky and coke.

Dean seems to have meant it when he said you were both okay because his attention has now left you and worrying about you. He's more worried about who he'll be sheathing his cock in tonight. 

Typical.

"Y/N. Go tell that girl that we're producers for a reality t.v. show." Dean says elbowing you and nodding to a pretty petite brunette that leans against the bar.

You sigh almost a little too loudly.

"Hey! Pretty girl!" You call over to her. 

Her head turns and you want to roll your eyes at her confidence. As if she was the only pretty girl in the bar.

Sauntering over, you watch her overly eager hips sway. Her index finger twirling her hair seductively as she approaches.

"My friend here wants to buy you a drink. You okay with that?" I ask her as she looks over at Dean.

Her pupils widen and her tongue slowly licks at her lips before smiling.

"Sure. That sounds great. I'm Olive." She says leaning against the booth. Her breasts thrust upwards in the air as her low cut tank top is pulled lower and you can hear the audible growl your best friend gives.

"Just call me Popeye." Dean says before shoving you out of the way and climbing over you to get out of the booth.

You stare at Sam unimpressed and he covers his face as he begins to smile. 

"See you two later hmm?" He asks.

Kissing the top of your head quickly, you roll your eyes before turning the small black straw in your mixed drink. 

Seems like he's forgotten every reason to be upset when he can be knee deep in pussytown.

Fingering at the small woven bracelet, you let out a small, unamused laugh before finishing the contents of your drink.

"You okay?" Sam asks quietly as you pick up the newspaper.

"Why wouldn't I be?" You bite back, angrier than you mean to.

"It's not fair of him to do that." He replies kindly and you put your fist under your chin before skimming over the bar.

"The word fair and the word Dean do not go hand in hand. Come on, let's go play pool. I could do with beating your ass in something today." You say before standing up.

It's almost too easy for Dean to unlock the recesses of your heart but it's almost too painfully easy to lock yourself back up.

[recurring-polynya]

For the AU request, whichever one(s) you prefer (for RenRuki of course):

the X-Men universe

the Mafia/criminal underworld

the circus

as FBI agents (the X-Files world perhaps)

So, I got this ask, and I immediately wanted to go for X-Files, because I was hugely into X-Files when I was a tween/teen, and I think that my actual first published work of fanfic on the internet might actually be X-Files. (I didn’t even post it myself, I was like 12 and I didn’t have the internet at home, but a friend of mine posted it on Usenet for me, I have no idea whatever became of it). Anyway, I was going back and forth in my head who I wanted to be Mulder and who I wanted to be Scully, and then I got this ask:

@ulkoilla​ said:

I though the 10 would be full in about 1 microsecond so I didn’t even try :D This is maybe not AU enough for the purpose but I'd love to see your take on Bleach world where the shinigami work among humans as if they were in gigai -> they'll have to balance the supernatural, perhaps violent elements of their life with the modern day laws and such (like in Supernatural). Renji and Rukia have ofc gotten in trouble with the non-supernatural law (meet: Detective!Aizen?) and are on the run…

It suddenly occurred to me, What If: X-Files World, but Renruki are the cryptids. And it suddenly popped into my head exactly who I wanted to be Mulder. Anyway, I am sorry missrambler, if I messed it all up, I hope you like it anyway.

Also, I somehow thought that I would save myself some trouble by combining two prompts, but then it ended up… really long. (Forty! Eight! Hundred! Words! Go to Talks-Too-Much-Jail, Polynya!!)

PS: This takes place in D.C. because it’s X-Files and also because I am familiar with D.C. and I never get to write about places I know about. A half-smoke is a local delicacy that’s halfway between a hot dog and an Italian sausage. They are delicious.

Read on ao3 or ff.net

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Ichigo Kurosaki had known that an office with a view of the Smithsonian might be too much to ask, but he had not expected to take have to take two separate elevators down to sub-basement C, and walk past a storage room, two broom closets and a weird old vending machine full of brands of snacks he swore he hadn’t seen since he was a child.

Maybe Agent Inoue has a huge lab, he told himself. Maybe it needs to be 50 meters below ground because she collides large hadrons down here or so that her work can’t be picked up by spy satellites.

He had to turn sideways to get past a rack of wire shelves full of banker’s boxes, but there, on the other side was a door sporting a handwritten cardboard nameplate reading “Special Agent Orihime Inoue.”

“Come in!” a voice called inside, just as he raised his hand to knock on the door.

Ichigo blinked twice, and then went in.

The office was cluttered, mostly with more cardboard boxes, but books were also stacked precariously on top of boxes on top of books. The walls were plastered with maps and graphs and photographs of hazy blurs in front of staircases. There was a large poster showing a UFO, with the words “I WANT TO BELIEVE” in block caps below it.

A woman with long chestnut hair twisted up into a bun and held in place with three pencils was hunched over a metal box full of diodes and transistors and other things you would buy at Radio Shack. Or rather, that other people would buy at a Radio Shack. Ichigo had never set foot in a Radio Shack in his life.

“Er, good morning,” Ichigo said, as the woman looked up and blinked at him owlishly. “Agent Inoue? I’m Ichigo Kurosaki. I’ve been assigned to work with you.”

“To spy on me, you mean,” Agent Inoue corrected, cheerfully shaking his hand with great vigor.

Ichigo bristled. Yes, he had been directed to ‘provide additional documentation on Agent Inoue’s activities,’ but that hardly counted as spying. She was known to be somewhat scatterbrained, and having an organized person around would probably be a great benefit to her. “If you have any doubts about my qualifications or motivations--”

“Oh, don’t take it personally!” Inoue replied, slotting a lid onto her electronics project, and attacking it vigorously with a jeweler’s screwdriver. “Just because you’re a spy doesn’t mean you aren’t a nice person. Also, I read your file, you have a very interesting background! Degree in literature with a focus on folk legends. Teaching at the academy for the last few years while working on your book.” She took a momentary break from her screwing to fix him with her big, soft brown eyes. “Tell me, Agent Kurosaki, what do you think happens after you die?”

Ichigo froze. “I would be buried? Maybe there would be a funeral first?”

Inoue started laughing so hard that Ichigo was sure he caught a tiny, adorable snort. “Sorry, sorry! I wasn’t clear!” She sniffed, and wiped a tear from her eye. “Do you believe in continued existence after the death of the body? An afterlife, religion-based or otherwise? The existence of ectoplasm, cold spots, spirit photographs, EVP?”

“Are you talking about… ghosts?” Ichigo asked hesitantly.

“Yes!” Orihime replied with a nod. “Ghosts.”

“We-elll…” Ichigo drew out. “I believe that people believe they observe certain phenomena, as part of the cycle of grief and--”

“Just say ‘no’ if you don’t,” Inoue interrupted him.

“Er, no. I don’t.”

“That’s okay. Are you good at carrying heavy things?”

“Am I... I guess?”

“Perfect!” She shoved the box into his arms, and Ichigo’s knees almost buckled under the weight. “Let’s walk and talk, I want to go get a reading over near Franklin Square before 9 am. We’re gonna pass a really good half-smoke cart on the way, do you like half-smokes?”

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“Take a look at this,” Inoue said, her cheek half stuffed with sausage, jabbing a finger at the LED read-out of her mysterious box.

It was rather hard for Ichigo to see, because he was holding the box and the readout was on the other side, but he did his best to crane his neck around. “What am I looking at? The squiggles? I’m sorry, it looks like nothing to me.”

“Exactly right!” Inoue announced, waving her half smoke in the air. “Not a sniff of spiritual residue!”

Ichigo pressed his lips together. “Um… is that good?”

“It is interesting,” Inoue corrected. “Five days ago, a sixty-four year old woman had a heart attack while sitting in that bus shelter.” On every day since, I have been able to record EMF fluctuations, and on Sunday, I was able to get a voice recording that sounded like a woman reciting a grocery list. But this morning, nothing! Nada!”

“Well, uh, ghosts gotta move on eventually, right? Otherwise, just about everywhere would be haunted, right?” It’s not that Ichigo had suddenly started believing ghosts or anything, but there was something about Agent Inoue that just made you want to go along with her and see where all this panned out.

Inoue shot him a finger gun. “Or, they get moved along.” She shoved a folded paper map at him. “You can put that thing down.”

Ichigo eased the Spirit Detect-O 9000, or whatever it was called, to the grass and accepted her map. It was a street map of DC, meant for tourists, emphasizing all the local transit routes and popular attractions. There was also a great loop marked on it in orange highlighter, zig-zagging back and forth through the city. There was a little ‘x’ marked on Franklin Park, with “Tuesday, early morning” written in a bubbly hand.

“What is this?” Ichigo frowned. It didn’t seem to match up with any of the metro or bus lines. It didn’t even match with the sidewalks, it appeared to cut straight through large buildings like the convention center.

“As far as I can tell,” Inoue said, her brown eyes very solemn, “that is the patrol route of our local grim reaper.”

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“So I actually got interested in grim reapers,” Inoue explained, once they were back in the office, “while I was investigating violent ghost phenomena.” She was eating a bag of corn chips that she had gotten from that ancient vending machine by punching it and then shoving her own arm up the chute. (She’d gotten Ichigo a bag, too, but he was too afraid to eat them.)

Ichigo was sitting at a cluttered table that Inoue had told him “could be his desk.” Half of it was taken up by a large aquarium full of rocks and a water bowl, but no life forms that Ichigo could detect. The other half was covered with back issues of “Ghost Hunter Technology” magazine. “You mean like poltergeists?” he asked.

“Not exactly. Poltergeists are noisy, but they aren’t usually able to kill their targets.”

“Kill? Ghosts can’t kill people, aside from, like scaring them to death,” Ichigo scoffed. “I mean, folklorically speaking. As we established earlier, I am not a ghost-believer.”

Inoue tipped her head to the side. “They do, actually, it just tends to get blamed on something else.”

“By ghost-non-believers.”

“By everyone, really, and that’s what’s so strange.” Inoue pulled a fat binder from a stack of seemingly identical ones, and tossed it open in front of Ichigo. “Edison, New Jersey, 2014. An elderly woman dies ‘of a broken heart’ a week after her husband dies of cancer. Coincidentally, a telephone pole falls on her house the same night and rips a hole in her house.” She turned a page. “Norfolk, Virginia, 2017. A young woman dies in what the police rule as a suicide, despite the fact that she made a 911 call 48 hours previous, expressing fear of her ex-boyfriend. Three days later, the boyfriend is dead of mysterious causes. Coincidentally, his apartment complex suffered significant damages from ‘a wild cougar.’”

Ichigo squinted at the pictures. The walls of the building were scored with what did appear to be scratch marks. “Hell of a cougar.”

“Exactly! And I’ve got dozens of these historic cases. But about four months ago, I was able to investigate one myself-- a young man named Joe Wallace. He lives here in the city, over near Dupont Circle. Wallace had cut off his toxic dad years ago, and refused to visit him in the hospital as he was dying. Four days after his father’s death, a truck crashes into his house in the middle of the night and then drives away before the police can arrive.”

“And he died.”

“No!” Inoue held up one finger. “Scratches and bruises, but he doesn’t die!”

“Okay, great. So what does he remember?”

“He remembers a truck crashing into his house.”

Ichigo scratched his chin. “I am confused.”

“Look at this!” Inoue stabbed a finger at the pictures. “These are claw marks, not vehicular wreckage! There’s damage on the second story window! Wallace had scratches and defensive wounds, as if he had been fending off an animal! And look here, at the damage to the walls of the bedroom!”

“What am I looking at?” Ichigo asked, squinting at a photograph that looked like it had been blown up past the point of recognition.

“There were cuts and slashes in the walls and bedding as though someone had been fighting with a sword.”

“Like a Medieval Times sword? Was the guy a Medieval Times enthusiast?”

“More consistent with a katana. Do you like Medieval Times?”

“No one likes Medieval Times.”

“I like Medieval Times. You’ve probably never even been. But back to the ghost! Why would Wallace remember a truck crashing into his house, when nothing about the scene is consistent with that story?”

“He was...lying?”

“His memories were replaced.”

“His memories were replaced,” Ichigo echoed.

“Yes.”

“By… aliens?”

Orihime heaved a deep sigh. “By a grim reaper.”

“A grim reaper with a samurai sword.”

“How on earth did you come to this conclusion?”

Inoue raised one eyebrow. “Because when I placed him under hypnosis, Wallace didn’t remember anything about a truck. He did remember a monster with batwings and a mask made of bone and his dead father’s voice who tried to kill him, except that he was saved by a tall man dressed in black. The man had bright red hair and fought the monster with a sword that was also a whip and then he wiped Wallace’s memories.”

Ichigo stared at her. “You can hypnotize people?”

Inoue gave him a long-suffering face. Ichigo had the sudden flash that he was going to be seeing that face a lot in the days to come. “Yes, I am a certified hypnotist.” Inoue’s phone suddenly started playing “Tubular Bells”. “Oops, that’s an alarm. Come on, we have a meeting with some important people. Do you like diners?”

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Agent Inoue apparently did not care for public transit, but she walked very quickly. Ichigo was concentrating so hard on keeping up with her that he nearly collided with her back when she stopped very suddenly.

“You don’t mind if we make a quick stop, do we?” Inoue asked.

“You said the meeting was with important people.”

“Oh, don’t worry about them!” Inoue pursed her lips. “You see that bodega right there?”

They were in a part of downtown that was mostly mid-to-upscale restaurants and government buildings and FedExes. But sure enough, there was a dingy little bodega nestled between a Mexican-Indian fusion place and an Au Bon Pain, the windows stuffed with t-shirts from the last administration and a variety of cell phone chargers. The overhead sign read “Urahara Shop.”

“Y...eah…” Ichigo replied.

“That place is a hotbed of supernatural activity.”

“Is it?” Ichigo asked.

“I am almost positive that it is a supply point and meeting place for grim reapers, monster slayers, cryptids, alien hunters, and lycanthropes, but the owner is on to me.”

“I see,” Ichigo said levelly.

“Can you go in and pretend to be a customer? They have lots of good candy you can look through. Inoue dug in her purse and came up with a fiver. “Here. Buy a scratch ticket or something.”

“I’m not buying a scratch ticket, they’re a scam.”

“If the big guy is working the counter, he’ll glare at you until you buy something, so be prepared.”

As Ichigo pushed open the door, he realized he’d never actually agreed to any of this. Agent Inoue’s secret hypnosis powers, once again. Whatever. It was a bodega, there were a thousand of them in DC. They all had the same Nats t-shirts and coffee mugs with pictures of the Washington Monument on them. Ichigo pretended to be interested in a rack of comics. He tended to prefer indy comics over the big publishers himself, but even so, he didn’t recognize any of the books. Maybe they were by local authors.

Up at the front of the shop, a tiny, dark-haired woman was giving whatfor to the man behind the counter, a tall fellow with pale, straw-colored hair sticking out in tufts from under the saddest hat Ichigo had ever seen, a shapeless, battered bucket, striped green and white.

“Well, I can sell you a new battery for your phone, Miss Kuchiki, maybe that would help.”

“Not if it only lasts as long as the last one you sold me! I really need to get in touch with my partner, except that even if I could get my phone working again, his battery is probably dead because everything you sell is the same crap!”

“Ah, that’s too bad! You know, I think Mr. Abarai was in here a few days ago… I wasn’t in at the time, but Jinta said he came in, asking about…”

The man trailed off, and Ichigo glanced up to see the shopkeeper looking directly at him.

“...metrocards. But as you know, we don’t sell metrocards anymore.”

The woman made an aggravated noise. “You’re so useless! If I write him a damned note, will you give it to him if he comes in?”

“Oh, of course! Anything for you, Miss Kuchiki!”

The conversation trailed off as the woman hunched over the counter to angrily scratch out a note.

Ichigo stuffed the comic he was flipping through back on its rack. He skipped the enormous display of bedazzled flip-flops and started perusing the surprisingly extensive selection of gum.

“Here!” the woman finished and shoved her note at the shopkeeper. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“Have a wonderful day!” the shopkeeper tootled, giving her a little finger wave.

Ichigo felt bad for the woman. “Er, excuse me?” he said as she passed.

She turned to scowl at him. For such a tiny person, she seemed to contain a remarkable amount of rage.

“Do you need to call someone? You can use my phone, if you’d like.” He held it out like an offering.

The woman blinked at him for a moment.

“I didn’t mean to be nosy! You were just kind of loud and you sounded worried about your, um, partner.”

“I’m not worried about him, I just need to find him.” Her face softened. “Thanks, Mister, but I can’t reach him on a regular phone. Don’t worry, I’ll track him down eventually.” She turned to leave, then stopped to jab an accusatory finger at Ichigo. “And that’s professional partner, not… you know! Whatever!” She stomped out.

What a strange, tiny person.

Ichigo selected a gum and walked up to the counter.

“Oooh, dragonberry lime, good choice!” the man trilled. “Anything else I can get you? Bottled water? Fanny pack? Spare phone battery?”

“I’ll pass,” Ichigo replied dryly.

“I imagine it’s against FBI policy to let a stranger use your cell phone,” the shopkeeper said sweetly.

Ichigo’s brows furrowed. “This is my personal phone. And how did you…?”

The man gave a chortling laugh that sent shivers down Ichigo’s spine. “Because headquarters is three blocks away and only an FBI agent would wear a suit that square.”

Ichigo took his change and his gum and shoved them both in his pocket. “Yeah, well, your hat sucks.”

The man laughed harder. “Doesn’t it, though?”

Once he was outside again, Ichigo handed Inoue the gum and her change. “The owner of that place is a creep.”

“The guy in the green and white hat?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s Urahara. You’re right, he’s the owner. Were there any other customers?”

“Just the short lady. You must have seen her come out. She was ripping Urahara a new one for some dodgy cell phone battery he sold her. I think she must have been NSA or something. She said she was trying to get ahold of her partner, but she needed a special phone.” As he said it, Ichigo realized it would be pretty odd for an NSA agent to be buying cell phone batteries from some shady bodega.

“No one came out,” Inoue replied.

“She definitely did! I heard the bell over the door ring.”

Inoue regarded Ichigo very seriously. “Agent Kurosaki. I was standing here the whole time. You were the only person who went in or out.” She looked at the gum. “Ooh! Dragonfruit lime! Do you want some?”

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They were late to the meeting.

Two men were waiting for them in the back corner booth. One of them had pinched, pointy features and piercing blue eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. His chin-length haircut was pretty dramatic, but not as dramatic as his pure white trench coat. A cup of black coffee sat on the faded Formica table in front of him, but it didn’t look like it had been touched.

His companion was an enormous, good-looking Latino who was shoveling pancakes into his face.

“Inoue,” the dramatic guy said. “Who’s this?”

“This is my new partner, Kurosaki,” Inoue replied. “Kurosaki, this is Uryuu Ishida,” she indicated the white trenchcoat guy, “and Chad,” Mr. Pancakes.

“Also known as the ‘Lone Archers,’” Ishida specified. “We are apolitical actors who are interested in revealing the truths that are regularly hidden from the general populace by secret forces that conspire within the machinery of the American government.”

“You can just call me Chad,” said Chad.

“Good morning!” the waitress said. “Can I get you folks anything?”

“Oh, yes! I’m getting mozzarella sticks! Do you like mozzarella sticks, Kurosaki? They’re so good here!”

“So’re the pancakes,” added Chad.

“I’ll just have a coffee,” Ichigo announced. He glanced at Ishida’s cup. “Black.”

“Double mozzarella sticks, please!” Inoue chorused. “And a cherry coke!” She leaned over to Ichigo and spoke out of the side of her mouth. “I’ll give you a mozzarella stick.”

“Do you want some pancake?” Chad offered to Ishida. “I never think to offer.”

Ishida waved him off with a hand. “Agent Inoue. At great personal peril, I was able to obtain a sample of the item we discussed.” He slid a small paper packet across the table. “There are two tablets inside, but one should be sufficient for your purposes.” Ishida leaned forward, his mouth set in a firm line. “I was cautioned very strongly against using this, unless one had a firm plan for handling the… consequences.”

“I understand,” Inoue replied, stuffing the envelope into her purse.

Ichigo wanted to ask more questions, but the conversation shifted very quickly to some USGS floodplain maps that Ishida wanted Inoue to obtain for him that were apparently not available from the public webportals, allegedly because of filesize. Ichigo could practically hear the air quotes around the word “filesize.”

“We’re going to look for Jersey Devils next weekend,” Chad explained, sounding pretty excited about it.

“There’s only one, Chad,” Ishida corrected. “It’s just ‘Jersey Devil.’”

“There could be more than one,” Chad shrugged.

Thirty minutes later, they departed. Inoue had an order of mozzarella sticks in her purse. Ichigo had an armload of backissues of the Lone Archers’ ‘zine, which was, conveniently enough, titled The Lone Archer. There was no doubt in his mind that at least Ishida was completely off his rocker. The jury was still out on Chad… he struck Ichigo as the sort of guy who just went along with Ishida’s nonsense because he was a good friend and also liked taking camping trips and doing layout for ‘zines.

“So what was that thing they gave you?” Ichigo pestered. The idea of that little paper packet had been burning a hole in his brain the entire time.

“You busy tonight?” Inoue asked, raising an eyebrow slyly. “Between 10 and 11?”

“What are we doing?” Ichigo asked cautiously, wondering if he would be able to charge his time.

“We’re going to try and attract an angry ghost.”

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“Are you… sure this is… a good idea?” Ichigo asked for the sixteenth time, as Inoue focused the thermal camera on him.

They were in an old, abandoned lot that had formerly served as a Metro service facility. It was pretty spooky all on its own, filled with train cars too dilapidated for salvage.

It was 10:25pm. Inoue had set up no less than 17 different pieces of ghost detection equipment. Ichigo was questioning his life choices.

“You told me you don’t believe in ghosts. If ghosts don’t exist, then what could possibly go wrong?” Inoue posed.

“Well… that’s true,” Ichigo granted. “And, for the record, I still do not believe in ghosts. But in the Pascal’s wager sense of things, I am considering the ramifications of what happens if there are ghosts that exist, regardless of my belief in them.”

“And?” Inoue asked.

“Well, you said that these ghosts have hurt and killed people before. It seems like trying to attract one without having any method of, um, fighting it, seems kind of… irresponsible?”

“Ah, but you see, I’ve specifically picked this time and location to coincide with the grim reaper patrol routes I’ve been mapping out. Our friendly neighborhood psychopomp ought to show up just on schedule to fight the angry ghost for us. We’re doing them a favor, as I see it.”

“How so?” Ichigo exclaimed.

“It’s not like we’re creating an angry ghost out of nowhere. We’re just attracting an existing one to our location. We’re saving the grim reaper the trouble of having to hunt it down.”

Ichigo pinched the bridge of his nose. Why was it so difficult to argue with Inoue? Possibly because she was so incredibly earnest in all her beliefs, and all her arguments were in completely good faith, it’s just that her logic came from some other dimension. This woman has solved multiple, high-profile murders, including several that were ice cold, Ichigo reminded himself. So she’s quirky. I am sure I can learn a lot from her.

“Okay, everything is in place!” Inoue announced, placing her hand on her hips. “Go hide behind that pile of moldy seats!”

Inoue took Ichigo’s place at the center of her recording equipment. “Agent Orihime Inoue speaking,” she said, for posterity. “It is 10:28pm. I am crushing one tablet of a substance called ‘Hollow Bait.’” She crunched the little white tablet, which looked an awful lot like an Alka-Seltzer, between her fingers, and then made a flying leap for the rotting pile of damp, orange upholstery that Ichigo was crouched behind.

“So, just out of curiosity,” Ichigo started. “How long would we have to wait, theoretically, with nothing happening, before we would declare this a bust?”

Inoue pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Usually, I would give it about two hours, but if you’ve got somewhere to be, I don’t mind if you leave early. It is nice to have company for a change.”

“No, I don’t have anywhere else to be,” Ichigo replied. “I mean… sleeping, I guess.”

Inoue gave a charming little laugh. “I don’t sleep very well. And hunting for ghosts is more interesting than most of the stuff on Hulu.”

The way that she said it gave Ichigo the distinct impression that Inoue was, well, lonely. But that didn’t seem correct. She was weird, sure, but she was also friendly and talkative, and, er, well, she was extremely cute. Surely she had tons of friends.

“How’d you get into ghost hunting, anyway?” he tried to be conversational.

“Hmm,” Inoue hummed noncommittally. “Let’s just say there was an incident in my teen years, where my memories don’t match up to the property damage.”

Oh. Ichigo wondered if he should apologize, when suddenly, a cold chill ran down his spine and a sound like a roar echoed in his ears, except he didn’t actually hear anything. “Did you hear that?” he gasped.

“It’s the EMF detector,” Inoue nodded, scrambling for the reader and Ichigo realized he could hear a faint beeping.

“No, not the beeping, it was like a… a… scream…”

“You heard a scream?”

“I didn’t exactly…” Ichigo trailed off as he heard two more, coming from different directions. “There’s more than one. Monster screams. Not human screams.”

Inoue stared at him, eyes wide. “I don’t hear anything. Have you ever been tested for latent psychic ability?”

There was a sudden change in the air pressure, and a fetid, rotting smell, even worse than the Metro seats. Ichigo grabbed Inoue by the shoulders and rolled out of the way, just as the pile of junk they had been crouched behind compacted like it had been through a car crusher. Or smashed by a giant foot.

“Whoa!” Inoue exclaimed, trying to push Ichigo off of her so she could see what was going on.

Ichigo blinked through the night. He couldn’t see anything, but there was an area of space that looked thick and hazy, like it wasn’t refracting the harsh glow of the sodium street lights quite correctly.

“We have to get out of here,” Ichigo gasped.

“Can you see it?” Inoue asked, her eyes wide and excited.

“Not-- not really,” Ichigo replied, pulling at her arm. The air blurred, and Ichigo had the sense the thing was jumping at them. He could tell it was fast, but he couldn’t see it, he didn’t know what to--

“Howl, Zabimaru!”

It was both there and not quite there, a liquid blade made of glass and starlight, that snapped through the air at the invisible thing. The monster bellowed, and whipped around, charging at a dark figure standing atop one of the old Metro cars.

“Pick on someone your own size, ugly!” the man bellowed, and as Ichigo squinted, he realized that their savior was dressed all in black. He was tall, and his hair was pulled back in a spiky ponytail. It was bright red. He was also wearing sunglasses, even though it was the middle of the night. They were pushed up on top of his head, to be fair, but Ichigo had a feeling this detail would stick with him.

“You can see that guy, right?” Ichigo asked Inoue desperately. “The guy who’s fighting the ghost? The guy that looks just like the guy in your report?”

“There’s a guy?” Inoue asked. “No. Where is he? Can you usually see ghosts?”

“I don’t even believe in ghosts!”

“Well, maybe you don’t believe in them because you can see them and you don’t want to, did you ever think of that?”

“I don’t think now is the time to interrogate my personal traumas!”

Suddenly, there was another drop in pressure, and Ichigo had the sense of heavy breathing and sharp teeth. “Inoue. I think there’s another one.”

“Well, can you get the guy to come fight this one, too?”

“He seems busy,” Ichigo squeaked.

Something black flashed by his vision, and there was a loud crack and a sound of something screeching in pain. A second dark-clad person had arrived, landing softly on sandaled feet. There was the same unreality to her, a sense that she wasn’t entirely there, as well as a certain familiarity that Ichigo couldn’t place. Her sword was bright in the darkness, like moonlight reflecting on snow.

“Oi, there you are, you big dummy!” she shouted at the first man and Ichigo realized with a jolt that it was the angry woman from the bodega. “I’ve been looking for you for four days!”

“I had a problem with my gigai and maybe you should check your texts once in a while!” the tall guy shouted back. Ichigo refused to think of him as a grim reaper. A grim reaper would not wear sunglasses.

“My phone died!”

“Can we-- ow! -- discuss this later? I’m glad you’re okay, I missed you. Why are there so many Hollows in this train yard?”

“You’re such a sap! And the Hollows are here because some stupid humans got ahold of some Hollow bait.” The woman turned, and glared at Ichigo. Her eyes burned with blue flame, like the burner of a gas stove.

That would have been the last thing Ichigo remembered, if he had actually remembered it, or any of the things that came before it.

  👻     👻     👻

Ichigo was sitting at his desk.

Inoue was sitting at her desk.

The sun was streaming in the window. The clock on Ichigo’s phone read 7:12am.

Inoue frowned. She examined a coffee cup on her desk. She took a hesitant sip, and then made a face. “Why are we here?” she wondered softly.

“I hate to pull an all-nighter,” Ichigo said, stretching, “but it sure does feel good to be caught up on paperwork!”

Inoue regarded him. “Kurosaki,” she said, “how long have you worked here?”

Ichigo frowned. “Well, I guess this is my second day.”

“Right. So… how much paperwork did you have to catch up on?”

Ichigo blinked. He very distinctively recalled working through the night-- his hand cramping, the incredibly spicy Thai food they’d ordered, Inoue’s seemingly infinite Boy Bands of the 90’s playlist. “I… was helping you, I guess?” Come to think of it, why was he filling out paperwork by hand, anyway? His laptop sat next to him, the lid closed. It wasn’t even plugged in.

Inoue’s fist slammed down onto her desk. “Gosh darnit! They wiped my memories again!!”

[littlemisssquiggles]

Aww man! The villains called the heroes plan and lunched an attack, Yang got knocked off, Ironwood and Winter are gonna fight, Team RWBJN having trouble dealing with Cinder and Neo, Now Oscar, Ten and Emerald can't go back to the staff and it looks Salem returns.😶

Hey there Bouquetdeer. Listen, for future reference, do you mind not inboxing me spoilers for episodes of RWBY until I’ve made my usual post discussing my thoughts on the episode since when I first got this message, I hadn’t seen the episode as yet. I still had to wait about an hour for it to be released on my end so when I first saw your message, I had to avert my eyes since you literally sent me a whole message of spoilers before I saw the episode for myself which… isn’t cool dude ^^;.

While I understand that may not have been your intention, obviously, still be careful next time, fam. That being said, I’ve now seen the episode and could actually answer you.

My response---not gonna lie, with all that’s happened for the last couple of episodes since CH10, I genuinely forgot that Salem is still in this story and still has to reincarnate at some point. I forgot about her just as how the CRWBY showrunners seem to have forgotten about Pietro Polendina and Maria Calavera still floating up in Amity Arena since we STILL don’t know what happened to the two old folks and this was since CH5. Did Maria and Pietro escape Amity? Did a portal open up for them to take them to Vacuo too? Seriously what happened to Pietro and Maria because it kind of bugs me a bit that Penny got the chance to become a real girl and…her own father, who literally created her doesn’t get the chance to share in this momentous moment with his daughter because the PLOT forgot about him.

Seriously, when Ambrosius told RWBY that he would have loved to have met the person who made Penny, I was like “You and me both Ambrosius because WHERE IS PIETRO?”. I hope this was a clear foreshadow to Pietro surviving for another season and us fans getting to see Pietro partnering with Ambrosius to…I dunno, create something together that services the PLOT for V9. I dunno. I just want to see Pietro meet Ambrosius since it bums me that Pietro couldn’t be there to see Penny become a real girl. But I digress.

Anyways, mini rant aside---resuming my original point. I didn’t automatically assume that the Batman Grimm we saw attacking the Atlesian and Mantlese refugees in Vacuo this episode were as a result of Salem---I simply just pegged those Grimm as being native to Vacuo Kingdom and the deserts of Sanus, similar to how the Saybers were native to Atlas Kingdom and Solitas and it just so happened that our heroes managed to carry the refugees to a spot where these beasts hold territory and in the middle of a blinding sand storm to boot.

Not only that but Jaune isn’t around to help boost Ren’s semblance to help mask the people. At this point, unless Jaune comes through the portal next, the refugees are screwed since I doubt Emerald, Ren and Oscar can do much to help defend the people from a swarm of Grimm.

Not unless Oscar takes a chance and uses more of the stored up kinetic energy in the Long Memory to kill the oncoming Grimm while simultaneously sending a signal to their comrades in Vacuo. Since obviously someone from the kingdom should be able to spot a giant magical lazer in the sky and send someone to check it out, right?

I mean that’s what happened last time in V4 with RNJR getting to Mistral. Back in V4, it was all the commotion in Kunoyuri from RNJR vs the Nuckelavee which caught the attention of a local Mistralian airship that was patrolling the area and was able to conveniently arrive in time to assist RNJR with the injured Qrow.

So if Oscar were to use the Long Memory again and launch a small nuke potent enough to protect the others, as much of a stretch as this may sound, perhaps…someone in Vacuo kingdom might see the beam and alert the local huntsmen about it. 

Who knows? Perhaps…Theodore---the Headmaster of Shade Academy and former ally of Ozpin--- might spot the beam and send help himself in the direction.

 After all, when Oscar first used the cane, Ironwood (and by extension RWBN_P at Schnee Manor) saw the explosion.

So what’s stopping Oscar from using the cane like that again to garner the attention of their allies in Vacuo Kingdom while taking out any Grimm in the process since; while powerful, the kinetic energy of the cane only seems harmful to the Grimm but not people since…Yang, Ren, Emerald and Jaune survived the blast. However Hazel was still blown to smithereens along with Salem so…

Bottom-line, I do think Oscar could play a part in protecting the refugees and alerting their allies in Vacuo through the power of the cane. That’s my hunch with that.

As for everything else, if I have any other predictions besides the “death” of Team RWBY---I’m not sure if Winter is going to make it to Vacuo either. I think Winter could potentially die in the process of killing General Ironwood.

Speaking of the Schnees, RIP Jacques Schnee everybody since I’m pretty sure Ironwood blasted him to smithereens too with his war machine gun canon.

But yeah, I think Winter could die. Unless Marrow is the one to arrive and drag her safely through the portal and to Vacuo as payment for saving him. Unless Marrow is actually on board of the airship with Robyn Hill working with Qrow to stop Harriet from dropping the payload onto Mantle which…at this point, I’m really NOT understanding what the jig is with Harriet.

What is the point of blowing up Mantle now? At this point, Harriet Bree is no different from Ironwood. Despite both claiming to “want to help the people”, what either are truly after is their own selfish desires which says a lot about them.

As a former fan of Ironwood as a character, it still sucks for me to see him go out like this man. But at least he’ll die by the hand of someone who genuinely believed in him or at least, used to. Still gotta appreciate his one gangster tear that he shed after Winter said she’s prepared to stop him. 

Despite losing himself to his fear, it’s nice to see that the tin soldier still had enough of a heart left to shed one tear of sorrow as he braced himself to duel the former most trusted ally---his solider and the person he probably genuinely cared about the most.

Winter was Ironwood’s top operative. His student. His right hand. He probably even loved her like a daughter. The comeuppance to come from their fated battle will be most glorious but we’ll have to wait and see.

Obviously Ironwood isn’t going to succeed. No way is Winter going to let him get the Staff of Creation. But at this point, who knows what the finale will bring. Next week is the last episode. 

We are officially at the end of V8. Time for this story to end and it’d be interesting to see what that ending will be and how V8 will set the stage for V9.

~ LittleMissSquiggles (2021)

[littlestarofthewest]

This is my @rdrsecretsanta gift for @little-box-of-flower-pots

I’m sorry this is so late, but I hope it fulfills your wishes. Please enjoy! :)

Title: Arthur’s Girl | Word Count: 4223 | Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female reader

You head into the saloon to meet with Arthur and find him standing in a corner with two other men. You don’t know their names, but Arthur told you that they usually know about good jobs in the area. For a little take of the score, they’re happy to share the information.

Since you don’t know how the men might react once they find out that Arthur’s partner is a woman, you rather stay at the bar and get yourself a drink instead of walking over to them. At first, you get lost in thought, the saloon becoming a blur around you, but then the voices of a few nearby women force their way into your mind.

“You gotta take a look, Lucy. Even you’d like him.”

You turn your head, looking over to a group of three women. Judging by their appearance, they’re the local working girls. One of them rolls her eyes. “I can’t even remember the last time a good-looking man came in here.”

“This one is way more than good-looking,” the first woman says, throwing her long red hair back over her shoulder. “I wish I could rip that shirt right open and take a closer look.”

“The shirt?” the blonde woman teases. “I’d rather get those tight jeans off. Can you see that bulge?”

Finally, the woman named Lucy seems convinced that it’s worth a look. She turns her head, and you follow her gaze, interested to see who the women are talking about. They all sneak glances into the corner where Arthur is standing with the two men. You give them a closer look, trying to figure out which one of the two men they’re talking about.

“Sweet Jesus, you were right.” Lucy lets out a deep sigh before turning back to the other women. “I wouldn’t mind that beard rubbing against my thighs.”

The women laugh before the Blonde leans over the table as if she’s longing to be in the other corner right that second. “I’d let him take me for free.”

You throw another look into the corner, your mind taking forever to come to the logical conclusion. Of the three men, the only man with a beard is Arthur. They’re talking about him.

“Alright, I’ll do it,” Lucy suddenly announces, “I’m going over there right now.”

The other women cheer, and you watch her moving her dress around until her cleavage is barely tamed by the thin fabric. On her way over to Arthur, she fusses with her hair and finally presents herself to him on a silver platter. There are lots of touching and laughing involved, paired with winking and licking her lips. Even you’d be hard-pressed to say no to such a pretty woman.

In the five years you’ve been friends with Arthur, you’ve seen this happen numerous times, and he always does the same thing. He’s charming and smiles, and still says no. Lucy comes back to the other girls, plopping down on her chair and looking over to the Blonde. “You’d let him take you twice, darling,” she teases. “He’s got the bluest eyes, and that voice.”

The women go right back to talking about Arthur and what they would love to do to him, calling him a dangerous gunslinger and more inappropriate things. You remember thinking that Arthur was nice on the eyes when you first met him, but you became friends so quickly that you’ve never thought about him as anything else.

Looking at him now, you begin to see with the other women’s eyes. Arthur recently shaved his beard, but his cheeks are still covered with a nice scruff that you know to be a lot softer than it looks. His hair has grown out a bit, always changing length based on his willingness to sit in a barber’s chair long enough to get it cut. One with a dirty mind might think that it has a good length to hold on to.

Further down, little hairs peak out of his shirt collar, and you don’t have to rip it off to know what’s hidden underneath. You’ve been on the road together so many times that you’ve seen Arthur’s naked chest almost as often as your own. You know every scar on his skin, and that the little hairs go all the way down into his pants. That’s the only mystery left to you. What’s under there.

“Mylady,” a deep voice whispers into your ear, and you’re brought back to reality by Arthur leaning over you.

He’s standing right by your side, your bodies touching as he leans on the bar next to you. “Arthur,” you manage to say, your mind racing.

You’ve never been so flustered around him, but the way those women talked about Arthur turned him from your good-hearted friend into a good looking man who’s worth climbing any chance you get. Arthur doesn’t do much to throw you off that path. 

“You want another drink?” he asks, his deep voice washing over you like a sweet caress. Before you can answer, he puts his hand on the small of your back, burning your skin while he orders for the both of you. 

Trying your best to control your breathing, you’re engulfed by Arthur’s scent, and you’re tempted to just lean in and bury your face in his chest. Instead, you grab the glass with your drink, determined to forget all about this nonsense. Seconds later, you find yourself staring at Arthur’s neck as he downs his own drink, leaving you to think about all the ways you could bite and lick his skin.

Holding in a growl, you wonder if Arthur always stands so close to you. Trying to look away from him, you catch another glimpse at the working girls, and the looks they give you range from jealous to impressed. There’s a good chance they consider you and Arthur to be a couple, the thought bringing even more heat to your body.

“Are you listening to me?” Arthur asks, making you look at him completely dumbfounded.

“What?”

Concern crawls onto Arthur’s face, and you drown in the blue of his eyes as he lifts his hand to your face, carefully cupping your cheek. “Are you alright? You look flushed.”

Your breath hitches in your throat at the soft touch, but then you manage to smile. “I just don’t like the heat. Tell me about the job.”

Arthur studies you for another moment before taking his hand away. “There’s a stage coming through here tomorrow, so I say we get a room and wait it out.”

“I thought we were going for a homestead?” you ask in confusion.

“We was, but then the guys told me about the stage. Not a good idea to rob something nearby and get the sheriff on our scent,” Arthur says. “The stage is worth way more money.”

“Alright, let’s wait then.”

Arthur smiles. “Another drink?”

You nod, hoping that the alcohol will manage to douse your confused mind. A few drinks later, there’s still a tingling feeling whenever Arthur stands too close or touches you, but you stop worrying about it. 

When it’s getting late, Arthur leads you up the stairs to your room, his arm around your waist like so many times before. You usually share a room to save money, and the second you’re through the door, Arthur kicks off his boots and takes off his shirt.

After what you felt downstairs, you hesitate for a moment to do the same, but you’d look a lot less suspicious if you did everything as always. You take off your own shirt, and by the time you pull down your pants, Arthur’s already crawling into the bed in his underwear. 

You lie down next to him, and it doesn’t take long for Arthur’s breathing to change, telling you that he fell asleep. With a sigh, you turn your back to him, convinced that tomorrow, everything’s going to be normal again.

——

The next morning, one thing is, in fact, normal. When you wake up, Arthur is basically wrapped around you. Whenever you share a bed, there’s a good chance you wake up completely entangled. Usually, you wiggle your way out of his grip and get up, but today you can’t bring yourself to move at all.

Arthur has his arm wrapped around your waist, his whole body pressing against yours. His face is buried in your neck, and when his hot breath ghosts over your skin, it sends cold shivers down your spine. You think about all the things the other women wanted to do to Arthur, and it gives you a sick sort of satisfaction that you’re actually in a position to do just that.

You dare yourself to move, rolling your hips. Arthur steers with a grunt. His lips touch the skin on your neck, and then you can feel his length rubbing hard against your ass. Your heart almost beats out of your chest, but you also feel bad about doing this to him in his sleep.

Turning around, you try to bring a little distance between the two of you, but Arthur won’t have it, pulling you close again. You can feel him pressing against your thigh while your hands come to rest against his chest. There’s still a chance for you to get out of this, but you don’t want to. 

Instead, you run your hand over Arthur’s chest and up to his neck, your grip firm since you don’t want to hide what you’re doing. He steers, and you venture back down, playing with the little hairs and circling Arthur’s nipples with your fingertips. With a grunt, he barely opens his eyes, making your blood run cold.

“Morning,” Arthur mumbles, and you’re not sure if he doesn’t notice what you’re doing or if he chooses not to comment on it.

“Good morning,” you say, and with your heart pounding like crazy, you dare to let your hand wander.

You caress Arthur’s stomach, enthralled by how soft the skin feels. You dig a little into the flesh until his muscles harden under your touch. Arthur has propped himself up a little, watching how your hand ventures even deeper, and finally, his eyes grow wide. You keep looking at him while you move your hand even lower, unable to stop yourself.

The second your hand cups the bulge in Arthur’s pants, he gets in motion. With a grunt, he grabs you by your waist and pulls you close. This time, it’s no accident when his lips meet your neck, and he teases your skin with little licks and bites. 

Spurred on by Arthur’s reaction, you get more daring. Without making a fuzz, you pull his underwear down and wonder what the three women would have to say about the glorious cock that springs into your hand. Arthur growls as you stroke him, and when he lifts you up, you eagerly follow along, climbing on top of him.

Arthur hitches up your chemise and holds it in place while you rub your pussy along the length of his cock, coating him with your slick. You wish you could draw this out, but you’re so turned on that you can only think about feeling Arthur inside of you. He stays still as you position yourself on top of him and closes his eyes with a deep groan when you slowly sink down onto his cock.

The sheer size of him drives you close to the edge, so you stay still for a moment. Without looking, Arthur runs his hands up your legs and over your stomach. His touch brings goosebumps all over your skin, your nipples hardening under the thin fabric of your chemise. Arthur opens his eyes, his gaze fixed on you as he ventures higher with his touches. His large hands cup your breasts, and the second he knits the soft flesh, you can’t hold on any longer.

Rolling your hips, you drive Arthur’s cock in and out of you at a rough pace, unable to avoid his gaze. He’s looking at you with so much fire and greed in his eyes that it takes your breath away. You thought that you maybe could get Arthur to fool around with you for a bit, but you never could have predicted something like this. For five years, you’ve watched Arthur say no to countless women, but here he is, saying yes to you. 

You lean forward, and Arthur eagerly pushes the fabric of your chemise aside, exposing your breasts. With the way he sucks and licks at you, Arthur drives you so wild that you ride him harder than you would any horse, the feeling of him inside you quickly driving you over the edge. Leaning back, your mouth falls open, Arthur’s name tumbling over your lips.

He’s holding on to your hips now, pushing into you with short hard thrust while your muscles clench around him. Arthur quickly pulls out of you, moaning as he paints his own stomach with his come. He lets go of you as if all strength has left him, and you fall forward like a puppet that got its strings cut, your hands resting on Arthur’s chest again.

You feel him desperately sucking in air while you try your best to gain control over your own breathing. After a short while, you want nothing more than to lie down and cuddle up to him, but a sudden thought shoots through your mind like a lightning bolt.

“Shit,” you curse, clumsily climbing off of Arthur, “we gonna miss the damn coach.”

Arthur groans, but follows you out of bed and you both dress as quickly as you can. Half an hour later, you’re waiting by the side of the road. Arthur comes over to you, and when he leans back against the same tree as you, his shoulder brushes against your own.

“Are you ready?” he asks, his blue eyes fixed on you.

Your mind is still reeling with what just happened. You’re not ready at all. Neither for the coach nor for whatever will happen after it. You’re so scared that you ruined your friendship that it must show on your face. 

Arthur takes your hand and squeezes it. “You’ll be alright. Trust me.”

That you can do. No matter what, you’ll always trust Arthur. You take a deep breath before pulling up your bandana. “Let’s do this.”

Arthur gives you a big smile before pulling up his bandana as well. “That’s my girl.”

He turns to the street to face the coach. You follow him with your heart almost beating out of your chest. For five years, you’ve been Arthur’s friend, but now, for reasons you don’t understand, you want nothing more than to really be Arthur’s girl.

——

Arthur croons his neck to catch a glimpse of you, spotting you on the other side of camp, talking to Hosea. With a sigh, Arthur leans back and stares at the empty page of his journal. He hadn’t written or drawn anything for a week, ever since that morning when he woke up to you touching him in ways he could only ever dream of.

How could he possibly find the words to describe how he feels? Five years ago, when Arthur first met you, he thought you were the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. That simple crush turned into more when he got to know you better, but then you got along so well that you quickly became good friends. After Arthur’s misfortunes with love, he didn’t dare to ruin that, burying his feelings deep down in the darkest places of his soul.

It’s not like Arthur lost that much. You spend lots of time together, had fun, and he got to experience your kindness and good nature almost every day. Being with you is as natural as breathing, but for the last week, Arthur has felt like drowning. Somehow, there’s always somebody else around, and he can’t catch a moment alone with you.

At first, Arthur only wanted to talk to you about what happened, but now that he spent a week without a word from you, Arthur right out misses you. Needless to say that his old feelings are back at full force. He needs to know why this happened between you two, and if there’s just the slightest chance that you might feel the same way he does.

With another sigh, Arthur rips out the last page of his journal, writing down a message for you. He strolls through camp and past your tent, making sure that nobody sees him before throwing the note inside. Then, Arthur gets on his horse and rides out of camp. If he has to watch you for another minute without being able to talk to you, he might lose his damn mind.

Three hours later, Arthur is still sitting in a room at the local hotel. In his message, he asked you to meet him here, and he’s determined to stay until he finally got to talk to you. The wait would be a lot easier with a drink, but Arthur wants to have a clear head should you decide to come by. He’d never forgive himself if he messed this up by being stupid.

When there’s a knock on the door, Arthur leaps up and almost rips the door off its hinges, flinging it open. You stand outside, seeming so small compared to him, your voice shy. “You wanted to talk?”

“Please, come in.” Arthur steps aside, and you walk past him to the middle of the room. 

Closing the door, Arthur stays where he is, afraid of what he might do if he lets himself get closer to you. He takes a deep breath, reciting the words he made up in his mind while waiting for you. “I wanted to talk about what happened last week.”

There’s a lot more Arthur wanted to say, but looking at you, a sudden fear takes hold of him. What if he says the wrong thing and you leave him? What if you don’t want to be friends with him anymore? Thousands of thoughts swirl around in Arthur’s mind, but not one makes it to his lips.

Like so many times before, you’re his salvation. Wringing your hands, you take a step closer to Arthur, holding his gaze, braver than he could ever be.

“Alright, I’ll start,” you say, taking a deep breath. “You’re my best friend, Arthur, and I don’t want to lose you, but for the last week, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to be with you again. If I’m honest, I want to be way more than just friends. I want to be-”

You stop, struggling with the word, and Arthur opens his mouth without thinking. “Lovers?”

“I, uh, I guess,” you say, a weak laugh breaking out of you. “You’ve always been the one with the words, right? Yes, lovers.”

Arthur felt grief, heartbreak, loss, and fear. He’s no stranger to overwhelming emotions, but nothing compares to what’s raging inside of him now. The only difference is that this time, it’s good. His heart fills up with something he can’t explain, but it’s so intense he can barely take it.

You deserve an answer, but while you called Arthur the one with the words, there’s just no way he can talk right now. Instead, he closes the gap between you and sweeps you up into his arms. You squeal with surprise, and Arthur starts over where you left off last week. 

Kissing your neck, Arthur carries you over to the bed to put you down on it, and seconds later, you’re tearing at each other’s clothes, wanting to feel each other, to be close again. Arthur crawls on top of you, and you eagerly spread your legs, letting him in. Buried deep inside of you, he takes a moment to feel that deep calmness only you’re able to give him.

Arthur stares into your eyes, bathing in the way you look back at him. There’s so much adoration and acceptance that it takes his breath away. You smile up at him, and while marveling at the curve of your lips, Arthur realizes that despite what happened last week, he’s never had the pleasure of kissing you.

He leans in, and you lift up your chin, fuelling his courage by welcoming him once again, always the one to take him just the way he is. Arthur presses his lips to yours, the soft brush of skin on skin so tender that he completely loses himself.

Your hands are in his hair, holding on as he deepens the kiss, your tongues rubbing hot against each other. Arthur’s engulfed by your taste, your scent, the way you hold on to him, needing him, trusting him. He wishes he could stay like this, preserve this moment forever, but you’re both too desperate for more.

Arthur can’t tell who loses control first, but all the tenderness soon makes room for shared moans between kisses, your fingers clawing at Arthur’s skin as he thrusts into you, spurred on by the euphoria of venturing deeper and deeper into your tight heat.

Reality blurs as you become Arthur’s whole world. Nothing matters but your touches and kisses, the sweet words you whisper into his ear before crying out his name. Still, Arthur feels guilty for not saying anything when you laid your heart bare to him. He keeps as still as he can, taking your face in his hands before searching your eyes.

“Goddamn girl, I love you,” he says, his voice hoarse as the words rush out of him, a prayer that you’ll hopefully accept.

The expression on your face is truly one of a goddess, not a cruel one, but so beautiful that you could shatter him on a whim. “I love you, too,” you say, your voice soft, a sweet caress for Arthur’s tormented soul.

He kisses you again, unable to stop now, losing himself in everything you are to him. You hold on to him, your eyes meeting again as you wrap your legs around him, forbidding him to shy away just an inch. Arthur follows your every desire, pushing into you to elicit eager moans and gasps, carrying you closer and closer to your sweet undoing. 

You come with Arthur’s name on your lips, your muscles clenching so hard around him that he can’t hold on. Still in your grasp, Arthur thrusts into you, filling you up with his come as your nails leave desperate marks on his skin. 

He buries his face against your neck and lets you pet him for a while, but then Arthur lies down next to you to unburden you from his weight. He pulls you close, and you rest your head against his chest, your fingertips caressing his stomach as if you’re back at where you started a week ago, coming full circle.

“I think I was jealous,” you admit to the silence between you, and Arthur moves a little to the side to look down at you.

“Jealous?”

“Last week in the saloon, these girls were talking about how good looking you were and what they would want to do to you in bed.”

“Keep going,” Arthur teases.

You laugh but hit his chest with not much force. “I’m trying to be serious here.”

Arthur leans in, planting a soft kiss on your lips. “I’m sorry. Are you talking about that Lucy girl?”

“You remember her name?” you say, your brows knitting together, and Arthur can’t help but find your jealousy pretty endearing.

“If it makes you do to me what you did last week, I’ll remember all of their names.”

You laugh, but instead of hitting Arthur again, you push him onto his back to crawl on top of him. Arthur reaches down to hold you in place, enjoying how your beautiful body melts against his. You look at him with a devilish smile that brings heat to every inch of his body.

“You’re going to punish me now?” Arthur asks, not minding the idea at all, but you shake your head.

“No, I won’t punish you,” you say, leaning down to leave some sweet kisses all over his chest. “I want to make up for lost time. Five years of lost time.”

Arthur lets go off you to rest his arms over his head. “I’m all yours.”

You run your fingers over his beard and the scars on his chin as if you need to rediscover him. “I hoped that you’d say that.”

——

Over the last years, Arthur has paid for many hotel rooms, but he’s never had to pay extra for a broken bed before. Judging by the bartender’s stare, it might also be some time before Arthur can show his face here again without getting weird looks.

Not that he cares. Arthur follows you outside to the horses, his eyes hefted to your swaying hips. He only looks up when you turn around to him, pulling him in for a kiss. It’s as if you already missed him in the few minutes you haven’t been glued together. 

Arthur feels the same way, and holding you in his arms, he knows that he’d do anything for you. His friend, his lover, his girl.

[timeaftertime-chriscornellfanfic]

Chapter 27 - Yesterday Comes Tomorrow

Columbus Ohio, May 18 2017

(Andi is 29, Chris is 52)

ANDI: It was a little later into the evening and I was making my way out of the local mall that wasn't too far from the Sheraton Hotel. Chris had given me some cash and his credit card so that I could get a cell phone - suggesting an iPhone since he saw me playing around with his earlier - and to grab some more clothes for the rest of the tour which was only a couple of weeks longer. It felt weird taking his credit card, but he insisted and wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

I slip my bags over my shoulder, send Chris a text letting him know my number and that I'm on my way back and head to the Hotel to change before he heads out to meet up with Kim Ben and Matt. I'm excited and scared to meet up with them again. I haven't seen them since their last show in Hawaii '97. We sort of left on awkward terms with each other. It was only a few months later that the band completely broke up and it wasn't exactly the greatest of goodbyes.

As I pull up one of the straps, untucking my curls from underneath, I catch a glimpse of the tattoo on my finger and smile to myself, remembering the night that I got it. Seems a little silly I know, but it was the only thing I could think of next to an actual wedding ring, and I wanted to make sure that I had a part of Chris with me no matter what.

I just wish...

No, I can't think like that. I'm here with him now. I'm meant to be here. I was meant to save him, just like all the times he saved me.

A few blocks later, I was back at the hotel and Chris was there to greet me back in our hotel room, already freshly showered and wearing a plain grey long sleeve sweater T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a pair of slim fitted ripped jeans with of course his Doc Martens. His curls were still damp but rested just above his shoulders, his beard now neatly trimmed and he smelled so freshly of after shave.

"Hi baby... did you find everything you need?" He smiles at me as I close the hotel room door.

"I think so," I say as I fumble with the bags a little bit.

"Here... let me," He says and helps take the bags off of my shoulder, taking my new phone out of my hand and setting it down on the nightstand by his with the bags down on the floor by the bed.

"It's so weird how literally just yesterday, my phone was only this little thing with hardly any screen at all and like... that t9 texting function..." I giggle.

"Oh yea I remember that thing... you were like so amazed by it you got me one too," Chris chuckles.

"Yea and I had to show you how to use it... and here you are showing me how to use an iPhone," I say practically in disbelief.

"Yea... I know," Chris chuckles.

"Oh shit, I forgot to get a luggage bag or something for my clothes," I say placing my hand on my forehead feeling like a moron that I forgot.

"It's alright, we can uh... stuff 'em in mine, I got plenty of room... you know me... I always travel light," He smirks. He moves back over to me and places his lips on mine for just a moment, then touches his forehead to mine.

"I uh... I should probably clean up a little bit before... you know..." I say.

"Ok," He says softly but still holds me.

"Chris?"

"Mmmhnm?" He mumbles with his eyes closed.

"You sure you're ok?" I ask.

"Yea... yea I'm fine now, just a little tired but... I'm fine," He says.  We stand there for a few more minutes as he keeps his forehead to mine. I have this weird feeling he took a couple of pills while I was out but I don't want to ask him about it right now. He already knows my concern so I'm just going to set it aside for now.

"Ok... I'll just be a few minutes," I say as I slowly pull away from him and he flicks those beautiful blue eyes to mine. I give him a gentle pat on his chest and he covers my hand with his for a second before letting me go over to one of the bags to pull out a change of clothes and then heading into the large bathroom.

****

A short while later, I finish my shower and change into a light blue distressed denim mini skirt, a silver studded belt and just a plain black fitted racer back tank top, a red plaid button up shirt over top with my curls all around me and fixed myself up with a little powder and some neutral eyeshadow just to feel a little more put together. Once I finish, I make my way out of the bathroom and see Chris laying down on the bed, on top of the covers, leaning against the headboard and quietly sleeping. I make my way over to him and gently place my hand on his chest and press my lips to his forehead.

"Chris? You awake baby?" I say quietly with my lips against his forehead still. He doesn't say anything and still continues to sleep.

"Babe?" I say quietly again and still he doesn't move. I can still feel him breathing, but his heart beat does feel a little faint.

"Chris?" I ask a little louder this time but still no response. "Chris, hey, wake up. You gotta meet the guys downstairs," I say but still nothing.

Trying not to panic I start to shake him a little, rubbing his chest but he still does nothing. I then move my hands to pat him on the cheek to try and wake him.

"Chris, can you hear me? Wake up... Chris?"

Suddenly he groans and starts to move, slowly opening his eyes to see me almost in a complete breakdown.

"Mmmm... hey, what's... um... hey," He says groggily. I look at him and have no idea what to even say. He scared the shit out of me.

"You ok? You weren't responding to me at all," I say.

"Um... yea. Yea I'm fine... just really tired. Fuck..." He sighs and sits up a little more, rubbing his eyes. He then flicks his eyes to me, squinting them from the lamp light and glances at the clock.

"Shit... how long was I out?"

"Don't know, half hour maybe. You scared me," I say my brow furrowing as I sit down beside him.

"Awe babe, it's ok. I'm ok... sometimes the medication knocks me out for a little while. I'm ok," He says. I say nothing as I continue to look at him completely worried about everything still.

"Andi, I'm ok... there's nothing to worry about anymore ok? It's just a bit of jet lag and medication. I'm ok I promise," He says as he cups my face in his palm, his thumb brushing across my cheek. I cover his hand with my left hand and lean a little into his palm. I then catch him glancing at my fingers, noticing the tattoo that was still on my finger and he takes my hand and places his lips on the ink that was etched there, all the while never taking his eyes from mine.

"Alright... um, I'm just gonna use the bathroom and we'll head downstairs ok?" He says sweetly holding my hand to his chest.

"Ok," I say and he leans in, placing a kiss on my forehead, lingering for just a moment and then moves off the bed and heads into the bathroom.

*****

"Babe, you have nothing to worry about - "

"I know, I know..." I trail off as Chris and I walk down the stairs of the hotel to one of the meeting rooms that businessmen and companies alike book for meetings and congregation.

This will be the first time I'm seeing Matt and Ben since -well in my time since April '97 - but for them it's going to be like 20 years. I had just hung out with Kim in my time,  just a few days before I slipped. Even after Soundgarden broke up he was still really close to Chris and I. He was like an older brother that I could run to if I just needed advice on something or if there was something I just couldn't talk to Chris about. Next to Andy, and maybe sometimes Jeff and Eddie he was the one who understood me the most besides Chris of course.

I hope I don't freak them out. Well I might, since I still look the same.

With Chris's fingers laced through mine, we arrive at the boardroom. Chris knocks on the door and we hear a voice from the other side telling him to come in. Chris gives me a cute smile and then opens the door with Kim, Ben and Matt, along with a couple of other people - I'm guessing either tour staff or friends, I'm not quite sure - sitting at the large conference table.

"Hey man... how... are...?" Matt starts but trails off once he sees me walk in with Chris. Kim glances in my direction and his expression drops while Ben just looks at me.

"Holy shit," Kim says.

"Hey, look who I found," Chris says smiling, glancing down at me.

"Hi," my voice breaks and I clear my throat and I suddenly see Kim get out of his chair, his tall 6 foot 2 frame walking over to me with all the years I've missed showing in specks of grey in his full beard and see his dark eyes begin to well up. Something that only happened when Kim was intensely caught up in a moment.

"Andi?" He smiles and I nod as he stops in front of me, studying me for a second, his brow furrowing and then leaning into me to embrace me in the warmest hug.

"I take it you missed me?" I giggle as he still holds me tight.

"You have no idea," He says sweetly, and I see Matt and Ben walk over to me.

"Hey, you gonna let her breathe or what?" Matt chuckles and Kim finally lets me go. "Hey Andi," Matt says and embraces me in a hug.

"Hi," I giggle and he lets me go. I glance up at Ben and see that he still hasn't said anything. He was always so quiet and so shy but I can tell by the little smirk he's giving me that he missed me too.

"Hi Ben," I say shyly and he steps over to me as I lift myself up to hug him.

"Hi Andi," He says, his voice low as he holds me and suddenly squeezing me tighter for just a second and then letting me go. Ben was never good at showing those kind of feelings, but I completely understand. I know he missed me too.

"Ok, lets quickly go over the schedule for tomorrow and uh, then grab some food...? Catch up?" Matt says.

"Hell yea I'm down for that," Kim says as he smiles at me.

"Sounds good to me," I say and Chris places a kiss on my temple. They all take their places back at the large table and just as I was about to tell Chris that I could wait in the lobby, he grabs a chair and tells me to sit.

"Are you sure?" I ask.

"Well yea... it's not like it's a secret meeting or anything. You know the routine babe, remember?" Chris says.

"You were the one who used to set up these things anyways... stay Andi," Matt says and I give him a half smile.

"Ok... ok sure," I smile and it's like no time had passed at all.

*****

About an hour or 2 later, the guys finished up their meeting and decided to head out for some much needed food since Chris and I haven't eaten since we landed. We make a plan to meet up in the lobby and I tell Chris that I needed to head back up to the room for my phone and jacket. As I make my way down the hall to our room, I see someone just closing the door to our room and locking it and heading down the opposite way. It definitely was not room service. Concerned, I pick up my pace and see them turn the corner as I approach the hotel room door.

What the hell?

I wasn't sure if I should keep following or just go in the room. I decide to head down the hall where the figure disappeared and make my way around the corner just in time to see Martin Kirsten standing in front of the elevator, waiting for it to open. I shrink back behind the corner and watch him without him noticing me. He then steps on to the elevator once it arrives and just as it closes, his eyes catch me. For a split second I had this overwhelming feeling that something bad was about to take place and just as the elevator takes Martin to his floor, I decide to run back to the room, but I see Chris coming from the opposite side of the hallway.

"Hey babe, I thought you said you were grabbing your jacket," He smiles at me as I stop at the door.

"Yea, I was I just um..." I hesitate not sure if I should say anything but again I just have this feeling. "Did you forget something?" I ask.

"Yea, I forgot my meds... I'm supposed to take them now," He says as he unlocks the hotel room door and he steps inside. I step in after him and see him open up the nightstand drawer as I glance around the room to see if Martin had fucked with anything.

"Shit... where did I put them?" Chris says as he closes the drawer and moves over to his luggage bag to unzip it. As Chris searches I see a bottle on the far dresser that wasn't there before we left. I walk over and grab it off the top and read the label indicating Ativan - Lorazepam 50ng/mL , noticing that there was once again only 2 pills inside.

"Oh hey, you found 'em?" Chris asks as he moves over to stand behind me.

"Uh... yea... but Chris I don't think you should take these," I say as I look at the bottle still.

"What are you talking about? You know I have a 'script for them," He chuckles as he attempts to take the bottle from me but instead I pull them away and turn and face him.

"Andi-?" Chris looks at me confused.

"I saw him in here," I say.

"Who? Martin?" Chris asks and I nod. "Ok so yea... if I'm not here, he'll just come in and leave me the amount that I need. That's normal... he has a key so it's fine babe,"

"No... no I don't think it's fine. Why does he only leave you 2? And where's the other bottle? Did he just take the other bottle?" I ask looking up at him as my brow furrows.

"Well yea, he swaps the bottles so that the dosage is the same each time... I can't be left with the entire bottle on my own," He explains.

"Why not?" I ask.

"You know why, I told you... I had issues with pills in the past so... he helps keep it in check," Chris says. I look back down at the bottle and open it up, pouring the pills out into my hand.

It has been years since I was put on the same medication to help with my time slips - since they had discovered it was sort of like epilepsy but also related to emotional stress along with other factors that they had just started to discover with me in my time - but I remember what Lorazepam looks like. They are small circular while pills usually with a number 1 embossed on one side and a little half moon embossed on the other. These on the other hand are a light blue, almost white with the letter M embossed and nothing else. I've never seen these before.

"I know what Lorazepam looks like and these aren't it," I say still looking down at the 2 pills in my palm.

"Babe... " Chris trails off looking down at me and as I look up at him I can see he looks defensive and just as confused as I was.

"Are you sure this is what you took earlier?" I ask, now worried.

"Um... maybe... but... I don't know, like I said Martin is the one who gives them to me," Chris says. I look back down at the pills in my hand and then place them back in the bottle.

"I don't want you to take these," I say still not looking up at him. I was scared and worried and I didn't want to see Chris's reaction to me.

"Babe, it's ok I told you -"

"I know what you told me but I don't want you to take these. You don't know what they are... fuck I don't even know what they are but they aren't what Martin has been letting you believe they are," I look up at him trying to not let my eyes well up.

"Andi I can't just stop, it's dangerous for me or anyone to just quit anxiety meds without seeing a doctor first,"

"Chris, you don't even know what you’re taking... what if this is what caused you to attempt, what you attempted to do last night before I appeared?" I say trying to fight back my tears but I could feel them start.

"Andi - ?"

"Chris I'm serious... mixing meds is dangerous, especially if you don't know what the hell you're taking and the fact that you let him control it - "

"What do you want me to do?! What the fuck do you want me to do?!" Chris shouts at me which makes me flinch.

"I want you to stop taking these and I want to help you. I know I slipped for a reason, and if it was to save you then let me fucking save you," I say as his blue eyes burn into mine.

"What if you can't?" He says after a few moments of looking at me in silence.

"... and what if I can?"

[mycupoffanfiction]

A Real Sweet Guy Part 6

A biker!Bucky x shy!Reader Series

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6

The reader lives on the same street as Bucky, the leader of a biker gang, which everyone in her building is afraid of, except for her. When Bucky makes a simple act of kidness to the reader, she realises she was right to not be afraid of him.

Warnings: Fluff, language, sadness. 

Word count: Approx 4000

Masterlist

Tag lists are open.

Ooof okay, this one took a while! I won’t lie, I’m not 100% happy with it and writing His Favourite Gal burnt me out a little since this series and HFG both usually have long chapters. I’m sorry I took some time to focus on oneshots and smaller things for a while, it was just my way of getting back into the swing of a larger series!

I really hope you enjoy this part, it’s fairly tame this time around, the next one will be very cute and fluffy!

Enjoy your week 💕💕💕💕

__________________________

“Y’know, Stevie’s gonna be jealous.” Bucky chuckled, looking down at you as you cut a slice of your homemade apple pie. “We’ll save him a slice.” You shrugged, grinning as you plopped a piece onto a small plate and slid it across the table, the older woman beaming at you. “Thank you, dear.” She looked delighted, taking in the cinnamony apple smell. “You’re welcome, Mrs Barnes.” You mirror her smile. “Please, Winnifred is fine, dear.” She insisted on you using her first name, but you were just so nervous at meeting Bucky’s mum that you’d been defaulting to her last name.

 “You said you didn’t talk much to your family.” Winnifred struck conversation as Bucky took over for you, slicing you a piece that was way too big for you. “Yeah, we uh- we don’t get along.” You nodded; eyes trained on your apple pie. You glanced across to Bucky, the contrast of him in his red flannel shirt, ripped jeans and heavy combat boots, hair down and messy against Mrs Barnes’ tidy, florally decorated home was quite amusing. “I don’t have any close family.” You added, Bucky’s hand coming down to rest on your knee. “But you have the Commandos, sweetheart.” Bucky grinned. That you did. They were the best family you could have asked for and in truth, they were better than your real family ever were. No one ever judged you, no one was mean to you, you were never singled out or bullied. Everyone treated you fairly and with so much love and compassion.

 Just the other day Steve had a call from Peter, the kid had gotten picked on at school and you and Steve spent about an hour on the phone to him to try and calm him down until his adoptive parents, Pepper and Tony got home from the diner. You were all as close knit as it came, even friends or family of members were always welcome, like Pietro was. He’d often join outings to Pepper’s diner or take walks with you and Wanda and sometimes even hang out with some of the guys too.

 “James tells me you work at the local bookshop; I was hoping I might have recognised you.” Mrs Barnes smiled as she dug her spoon into the apple pie, taking a bite and nodding in approval. “I do, I love it there, although the shop can be a little trying.” You smiled, it was true, you did love the shop and while you had a tendency to complain about rude customers and how much the day drags or how exhausting it is sometimes, you still loved it. It was like a second home to you and your manager George had been so good to you while you had worked there. “Delicious pie, dear. I’m not sure Steve will get any.” She joked, causing you to giggle in response. “You’ll have to give me the recipe, perhaps we can bake together.” Mrs Barnes suggested and you grinned at the idea. “I’d love to.” You smiled, glancing across at your boyfriend.

 “Now, let me show you some photos of James when he was little.” Mrs Barnes laughed as she reached behind her for the bookcase. “Maaaa.” Bucky groaned, his cheeks lighting up with a bright red as he dropped his face into his hand.

 “So does Mrs Barnes like you?” Wanda asked down the phone as you walked down the sidewalk, rain pattering down onto your coat hood. “I think so, she seemed happy when I met her, even hugged me when I left.” You smiled to yourself, thinking back to your meeting with Bucky’s mum. “Can’t believe he never told me his first name was James.” You laughed, having taken it light heartedly. You had been seriously confused when Mrs Barnes had referred to your biker boyfriend as James instead of Bucky, but you were so used to his nickname now that you weren’t sure that you could see yourself using his real first name much.

“Barnes said you made her apple pie. Why didn’t you give us apple pie when you met us for the first time?” Wanda teased. “Hey, I gave you cookies.” You argued, a smile on your lips. Your smile quickly dropped when you stepped right into a puddle, soaking through your shoe. “Fuck me.” You hissed under your breath, shaking the water off, but it was no use, your sneaker was totally soaked. You turned the corner, Wanda giggling down the line as you explained what had just happened. “I gotta go, Wanda. Maybe I’ll have customers today.” You scoffed as you approached the bookshop, ready to start your shift. “Alright, text me when you get home.” Wanda said her goodbyes to you before hanging up and you heaved a sigh as you approached.

 The rain came down heavier, the wind picking up. The storm was coming. Your hood flew back, exposing your freshly washed and dried hair to the angry elements. You barely paid attention when you reached the shop front, reaching out for the door and smacking right into it as you had expected it to open, but it was locked up tight. You let out a frustrated humph as another strong gust of wind almost pushed you off balance as you rummaged around in your pocket for your keys. A deep rumble of thunder rolled across the heavy storm clouds above, rain getting heavier. You didn’t bother putting your hood back up since you’d be indoors in a second. Or so you thought. “Fuck.” You whispered to yourself. The keyhole was covered by a piece of wood nailed to the door. It was at that moment that you stepped back and noticed it. Oh. Oh shit.

 Big, bold letters. In a chunky red marker. Your heart sank as your backpack dug into your shoulders, your hand clutching at the wet strap, rain lashing down onto your shoulders and head as you stand completely still in the middle of the pavement. Your hair glued itself to your face, your hood having fallen down a few minutes ago. The cold wind whipped down the street, giving you a shivering chill, arms breaking out into goose bumps, ears hurting with the cold.

OUT OF BUSINESS.

Why didn’t your boss tell you? To be honest, you’d sort of seen it coming, with the tiny amount of custom your shop had received in the last few months. Still, it made your heart sink, down, down into the pit of your stomach. You had loved working at the bookstore, it was a safe haven. How could you not love it? But it was gone now. How would you pay your bills? Would you even be able to stay in town to find a new job? How would that affect things?

 “George?” You squeaked out; phone pressed against your ear as the line crackled on the other end. “(Y/n), I am so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Your manager sighed. “Is it really closed forever?” You asked, voice sad as you stared at the front door, letting the rain drench you as you shivered uncontrollably from the cold. “Sadly, yes. I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you.” He responded. “It’s alright.” You huffed. “I’ve got to go, make sure you drop off your keys to the shop over the next couple of days.” George reminded you before hanging up and you were left in silence again. The traffic behind you seemed to just drown out into a low hum. The only sounds you could really hear were the rain and a couple of pairs of heavy footsteps walking around behind you, splashing against the wet pavement.

 “(Y/n)?” A well-spoken voice came from behind you and you quickly whipped around to see Loki and Thor paused in their step on the sidewalk. “What are you doing out here in the pouring rain? You’ll catch a cold dear.” Loki fussed, rushing to your side and covering you with his umbrella. When you didn’t answer, heart caught in your throat as the realisation hit you, Loki noticed. He noticed how your shoulders dropped, your head hanging a little, the odd sniffle here and there as you kept your emotions at bay. “Whatever is the matter, darling?” Loki asked, glancing over his shoulder at Thor to motion him over, heavy hands coming to rest on your shoulders, the towering man stepping up behind you, chest brushing against your back. You didn’t say anything, but Loki noticed before you could even have a chance to force yourself to speak. He saw where your eyes were glued to. “Oh.” Loki said just above a whisper. “Oh (Y/n), I am so sorry.” He murmured, pulling you into a gentle hug, Thor moving around the side to inspect the sign on the door.

 “Why would they not tell you?” Thor pondered, finger pressed up against the window at the sign, head turning to look at you, although his hood blocked his face a little, wisps of blonde hair shifting slightly in the wind, the tips of his long hair getting damp from the rain as they stuck out of the edges of his hood. “Never mind that now, let’s get her somewhere warm, brother.” Loki coaxed you along with him, arm wrapped around you as Thor fell into step with you both, leaving you sandwiched between the two brothers.

 “Let’s walk you to the café across the road, you need to warm up before you catch a cold small one.” Thor’s large hand rested in the middle of your bad as you pressed yourself against his side, the warmth radiating off his figure already starting to warm you up. “Didn’t you see Bucky this morning? Does he know?” Loki questioned as you walked down the street together. “I saw him before he went to work, we went to meet his mum. And no, he doesn’t know.” You shook your head. This was bad. It took you so long just to find this job, you were finally at a point where you were comfortable in your life and now this. The constant worry of having to move to find a job was looming over your head. You could hear the two brothers talking, but it was as if their voices were muffled.

 “There you go, small one.” You were suddenly sat down in the coffee shop, you didn’t even recall walking in and sitting down, but you were here. Thor slid a large cup of hot coffee across the table to you, dropping a few sachets of sugar onto the table next to your cup. Loki settled down opposite you with a cup of tea, Thor clutching a cup of coffee in his hand as he pulled out his chair roughly. “Thank you.” You said quietly, peeling your soaked coat off your cold form. “Darling, take my jumper.” Loki spoke softly, getting up from his seat to take off and give you his woollen jumper. You gladly took it, thanking him as you did and pulled it over your head, the length of the sleeves and the body on you making you smile. You began pouring sugar into your drink and stirring as the two brothers quietly watched you.

 “I called Barnes on our way over, I tried telling you but you zoned out a bit.” Loki tried to catch your eye contact. “What did he say?” You asked. “He said we should take you to your apartment and he’d come over during his lunch break.” Loki explained. “Okay.” You mumbled into your mug, bringing the rim close to your lips to take a sip of the warm, comforting liquid. “Will you stay with me? I get it if you’re both busy.” You murmured. “We’ll stay with you, small one.” Thor gripped your shoulders, gently squeezing.

 “I don’t know what to do.” You huffed; eyes trained on your coffee. “The bookshop was my livelihood.” You sniffled, eyes feeling watery as you let your emotions bubble up to the surface. You took another sip of your coffee, emotions breaking the dam as hot tears rolled down your cheeks. “Oh, (Y/n).” Thor whispered, pulling his chair around to your side “It’ll be alright, darling. I don’t think you’ll be jobless for long, especially since the head of a biker gang is your boyfriend, I’m sure he could pull a few strings, maybe a favour or two.” Loki spoke softly to you as Thor’s arm draped around your shoulder as you leaned into his side.

 After you finished your coffee, warmed up a bit and waited for the rain to die down, the three of your made your way back to your apartment. You kicked off your wet shoes, Loki helping by going to get you some towels from the cupboard while Thor fiddled with your TV, getting something on for the three of you to watch and preparing blankets on the sofa. Whatever the two of them had been doing before they came across you was obviously considered less important than looking after you, and while you felt a little guilty for consuming their morning with your issues, neither of them seemed to mind at all.

 You sat on the sofa, squished between the two brothers, who at this point were like your own two siblings while Tangled played on the TV. Thor seemed absolutely taken by the movie and you quickly realised this was absolutely not the first time he’d seen it when you caught a glimpse of him mouthing the words, not to a song, but to an entire scene of the movie.

 You didn’t even notice when Loki got up to open the door for the two men, you and Thor completely captivated by the movie. It was only when Bucky came to sit beside you, the smell of leather, car oil and his woody, spiced cologne catching your attention. “Hey darlin’.” Bucky’s voice was low and husky, the kind tone he used melted you as you turned to see your boyfriend. Although you’d seen him that morning, it felt like it had been too long with the sadness that came with your bookshop shutting down. Your heart leapt into your throat as you looked up into his deep blue eyes, his arm resting on the sofa behind you, his metal hand on his thigh as he sat facing you. His leather jacket was still on, hair thrown back in a messy low bun, stubble thick and soon to be shaven again. Grease marks around his forehead and some in his hair, you knew he’d have trouble getting that out later when he showered.

 “Did Loki tell you what happened?” You asked softly, not wanting to disturb Thor as he enthusiastically mouthed a song that was playing on screen. “Not in detail, but I know the bookshop got shut down, your manager didn’t tell you and you found out from a sign on the shop front and Loki and Thor found you absolutely soaked.” Bucky gave you a brief rundown of what Loki had told him and you nodded. “I’m so screwed.” You whispered to yourself, not really intending to say that out loud. “No, you’re not.” Bucky shook his head. “Absolutely not, sweetie.” Steve cut in, standing behind the sofa, his hand coming down onto your shoulder.

 “You can come and work at the repair shop for the time being so you can pay your rent until you get back on your feet if you like.” Steve said as he brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear, Bucky swiping his hand away to do it properly. “Really?” You sounded surprised, tears still in your eyes. You’d been on the edge of tears for a few minutes, but the dam broke and hot tears spilled over your cheeks. “You’d do that?” You squeaked out. Of course you could refuse, but why would you? “Or Pep said she might be able to open up a position for you down at the diner. Her and Tony don’t have enough staff with it being on the entry road to the town and all.” Bucky interrupted. “But in the meantime, while they open up something for you, you could help down at the shop for a few weeks if you like. We got an overload of paperwork and marketing needing doing and we need someone, doll.” Bucky cupped your cheek gently, wiping your outburst of tears away with the pads of his thumbs as his hands cradled your face.

It wasn’t long after that, that Bucky and Steve left to have lunch and go back to work, promising to take you out to the diner later for milkshakes and dinner with anyone who would come.

“Small one, Barnes loves you more than anyone I’ve ever seen him around.” Thor smiled widely; eyes trained on the TV screen. You’d spent the rest of the afternoon with Thor watching movies after Bucky and Steve had to return to work and Loki left to run errands, leaving you alone with the big softie. “His last girlfriend was uh-.” He cut himself off, shifting awkwardly on the sofa, glancing across at you. “He told me about her, she sounded like she was more in it for the sex than the relationship.” You finished for him. Thor hummed, nodding. “She wasn’t the best for him, we all tried to tell him. Poor guy was so in love he didn’t see it at first.” Thor spoke low, so not to interrupt Star Wars episode five too much. “I think he knows he’s in love this time, because he sees that you’re good for him.” Thor thinks out loud, fiddling with the blanket that was half heartedly draped over him. “You think I’m good for him?” You ask, looking over at him, your attention now on the conversation rather than the movie. “We all do.” He nodded, tucking his blonde hair behind his ear, glancing between you and the TV.

 “I think you ground him, he’s so caught up in the biker life, everything revolving around his group and bikes. You’re a different perspective.” Thor went on, eyes glued to the AT-AT fight on Hoth. He paused as he watched the scene, waiting for the cool bit to be over before he started talking again. “I think he’s good for you too.” Thor mumbled; a bit too distracted by the movie to really talk in depth again.

 “I can’t believe that!” Wanda raged, arms flailing, almost knocking over her milkshake. “How could they just not tell you?” She frowned, Sam nodding furiously next to her as you leant on the diner table. “Why’d he have to leave it to the day of the shop closing to say something?” Wanda was far more enraged by your sudden loss of employment than you imagined her to be. Steve, who was sat on the other side of her, gestured for her to lower her voice, the other patrons in Pepper’s diner turning to see what all the commotion was about. “That does sound unreasonable.” Peter agreed from beside you, Bucky’s metal arm draped over your shoulders as you glanced at Peter. “I know.” You sighed, shoulders dropping a little. “Hey, on the bright side, you get to work closer with us now!” Peter beamed up at you. “Pepper is trying to convince Tony to make a spot for you.” He repeated the news the boys had told you earlier. “I really appreciate everything you guys are doing for me; you really don’t have to do it though.” You smiled gratefully around the table, catching all of their eyes. Everyone had made sure you were okay. As soon as the word got out about your situation, the entire group was at your beck and call, running to your aid to try and cheer you up. “We absolutely do.” Wanda answered before anyone else could, voice stern as her finger pointed at you. She was really mad about it, but you appreciated the passion she showed for your wellbeing.

 “Honestly, as I see it, it was the only right thing to do.” Steve continued the conversation after a short pause. “We’re a family, you’re part of that (Y/n). I’d feel terrible if I didn’t offer up a spot for you, even if I didn’t really need someone to do paperwork for me.” Steve admitted, a lopsided smile on his face as your gaze met his. “Since you two met, I feel like we’ve become fast friends, I see you more like a sibling than just my best friend’s girlfriend.” Steve grinned widely, a little pink blush on his cheeks. Holy shit that’s cute. “You do?” You squeaked out, cheeks burning bright red, a huge grin on your lips. “I love you Stevie- I mean love as in like not love, love, but love as in kinda love.” You stuttered out, a few chuckles from around the table. Steve shook his head as he chuckled, Bucky squeezing your side tightly as a laugh rumbled through his chest. If you weren’t already blushing madly, you were now as red as a tomato as you nervously giggled to yourself. Such a way with words. “I kinda love you too, (Y/n).” Steve chuckled, hand landing gently on yours and squeezing a little before he went back to cupping his milkshake glass.

 “We all kinda love you, (Y/n), except for Bucky, he really loves you.” Sam teased, winking a few times at you both, causing Bucky to scoff in response. “I more than really love you, doll.” Bucky whispered in your ear, only for you to hear, causing you to blush and giggle shyly. “Ooh sharing sweet nothings there, Barnes?” Sam teased. “Shut it Wilson.” Bucky glowered at him, Steve chuckling at the exchange. “What did he say to ya?” Sam asked. Perfect opportunity for the unsuspecting jokester. “He told me how he’s going to kick you out.” You deadpanned, face void of expression. Steve almost choked on his milkshake, Peter pausing mid sip, Wanda had a knowing grin on her face as she exchanged looks with Bucky. The table fell silent, Sam wasn’t too sure that you were even joking by your incredible ability to keep a straight face. He was only thrown off when Bucky finally cracked next to you, letting out a hearty chuckle, the others soon following. “That was cold.” Sam pointed at you, a large smile on his face. “It’s always the quiet ones.” He shook his head, making the remark more to himself than anyone else.

 You sat and talked with your friends, chatting with Wanda, making stupid remarks with Steve, groaning and laughing at Sam’s jokes, giggling to Peter’s awkward stories and enjoying the sweet words Bucky would whisper into your ear. You were with your real family. The real family that loved you and supported you the way you needed them to.

You were home.

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