#look i like the author to be a complex guy that definitely made mistakes

[farolero-posting]

💔

For the author

HEY. and on Father's day no less??? This man is just angst after angst. But I will try.

💔 - an angsty headcanon

He tried obscuring his identity as much as he could for many reasons, but mainly because he viewed this action as punishment for what he couldn't do for the World. Truth is, after the last patch (the one that made Solstice possible) he wanted to let the world be as independent as possible, and in a sense free TWM from the limits in the programming he imposed on them.

(ask game this is referencing, requests open)

[partyanimal167]

Something is Up- Law x F!Reader

Hello fantastic people! I finally got hit with which prompt I could use for my Spy Event with Law. It's been awhile since I wrote his character, but the complexity of it as well as his knack for planning lends itself to this one. I hope you enjoy, and please feel free to check out the event list for any request you want to send my way.

✒️ A Not-So Secret Identity- Law x F!Reader

cw: sfw, fluff, witty/silly reader, author knows nothing about medical school

There was just something that was...off about him. You had a gut feeling about the situation, but you weren't sure if you were just sleep-deprived or actually right.

You stared at the stacks of papers you had just finished grading for your professor, and you nibbled on your pen as you held the last one. This particular student was just...different.

It was difficult to grasp the range and terminology of human anatomy and biology, but there was just an odd way about how this guy--Law--got things wrong on his tests and mistakes in his papers.

You had watched him in class. He looked to be around your age and didn't stand out too much. He didn't answer questions often--not trying to show off or brag about near-perfect scores like his classmates did. He sat near the back off towards the side. He took notes during the professor's lecture, but even the way he moved and followed along felt so calculated.

You had spoken with him a few times--gave him props for citing a recent medical journal with untraditional authors of women and military doctors. He only nodded and mumbled in response, but it had you thinking. You didn't know how he accessed that journal since it wasn't part of the school's main databases. You shrugged it off.

But then you realized that there were some inconsistencies with the information he seemed to retain and what he definitely knew. There was just a confident, knowing presence about him that you made you curious.

You marked up the paper in your hand, and just for funsies found a folder with old papers from earlier in the semester. You found Law's and skimmed over the marking notes which confirmed your suspicions. In the more recent paper, there were some errors and misuse of terminology relating to muscle fatigue and lactic acid. However, in the paper before, Law went into great detail about lactic acid accumulation and how it relates to muscle usage. It just wasn't something that the man would get mixed up or forget about weeks later. Of course, your professor had fifty other things to worry about and only wanted you to put in grades, but it got you thinking.

~~~

Law wasn't sure whether or not he was thankful to be seeing the traditional process of becoming a doctor (compared to his fast-track government training) or if he wanted to shoot himself. This wasn't the worse undercover job he could have, but at the same time, maybe it was just a bit too fitting to have him there.

Progress was being made though. There was plenty of evidence of money laundering as well as some hidden human research being facilitated by the university on public volunteers. Most of this was being handled by only a couple of staff members and a too-wealthy alum as the head. However, Law needed to see if there were any other cracks he could find on the campus. So he thought it was great when his TA reached out to go over some study material. He could finally confirm whether or not that anatomy professor was in on this.

Law thought he was so lucky.

Law is never so lucky.

He gawk at your smiling face and bubbling vibes as you beamed while taking a sip of your coffee. "What did you say?"

You giggled as if he asked the silliest question ever. "I want to help you with your investigation." you replied.

Law blinked dumbly. Yes he did hear that correctly, but there was no reason to panic yet. He had a cover to keep. He tilted his head and tapped his notebook--trying to seem nervous yet confused. "I- I don't know what you're even talking about... So um-,"

"Your actual name is Trafalgar Water D. Law; you came to this country when you were a child. There's some murky details about where you're from, but you were in a private, recluse school--which I'm assuming is some crazy classified government thing. Your specialty is in cardiology and have been a part of some public-funded studies." you seemingly announce your findings with a proud air.

We need to hire her. Law didn't know what to say. He hadn't planned a protocol for if his cover was blown because there was no reason it would--he thought. He blended in well-enough, and most research doctors weren't making public appearances. He avoided a lot of attention despite his findings because of his work affiliation. It was easier for people to assume he was some rich brat.

More silence. "Should I keep going? Your residential address is 54-,"

"Okay, okay, enough." Law let out a sigh and closed his eyes for a moment. He didn't want to push with how much you knew, but there wasn't a sure way to quiet you yet. He had to see if you were a threat. "First of all, what made you even think to question me?"

You shrugged as you finished off your drink. "The differences in your papers just didn't make sense. At first, I thought you paid someone off to write it for you, but I never see you hanging out with anyone. Then when I looked up some of the contributors from your resources, I came across a peer review you did with that same doctor. I must say I do enjoy your work." You laughed awkwardly.

Law wasn't sure what to say. You were smart; that's for sure. But you were just too giddy about your findings for it to seem like you were...bad. He would run a background check just to be sure later, but he had to handle this first. "I- okay thank you. But listen, this isn't something you can just tagalong in. There's a lot at stake."

"Awww, but Law," you whined and pouted.

"I commend you really, but a lengthy Google search isn't enough to-,"

"The school's medical supplier is on it too. They sometimes bring in real pills instead of the practice sugar ones which spread to others." you added on.

Okay, I did not know that. Law wasn't totally convinced. "And why do you know that? Why would I even trust you?" he argued.

"I was cleaning up a practice lab and saw a bottle. I didn't think anything of it until I googled the name and nothing came up--not even a trial. I didn't think about it too much but now..." there was a lot of hope in your eyes. "So can I help?"

Law only looked back at you slightly annoyed and conflicted. "No." then you hit him with the puppy eyes, and Law knew he needed back up on the situation. "Okay, look. Let's get you in and take a couple statements. We're going now."

You shrieked happily. "Ooo, going to HQ? Will I get a visitor's badge? You should totally let me see some of things you're working on. One of the ideas for dissertation is-,"

Law listened to you ramble on as he walked you guys out the building and through the parking lot. He had a solid plan laid out, and somehow, he was now dealing with you in the mix. You were an uncontrollable variable, and he had a feeling that he was going to be dealing with you more than he prepared for.

~~~

The reader kinda reminds me of Luffy lol. It's just fun to be silly. Also, this is a little reference to joke of how women need to be in the FBI because of how much information that can get. The dots were connecting for sure.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to check some other works out or shook me a message.

Bye~

[vestaldestroyer]

When you get this you have to list 5 books/book series you love 📚♥️. Then send this ask to last 5 persons from you notification. Spread love. 💌

This probably won't be interesting to many people because I mostly read Czech books (it's hard to read books translated from English when you're a translator and can spot all the mistakes)

1. Poselství jednorožců - Michaela Burdová

(Unicorns' prophecy) I love everything by this author but this series, her first, is my favourite. A classic adventure fantasy, very basic and cliche and amateurish (she wrote it when she was 16!) but there's so much love put into it.

2. Rafaelova škola - Renata Štulcová

(Raffaello's lyceum) Now, I have a love hate relationship with this one. I've been following this series since I was 11, for 10 years. It's an esoteric fantasy set in my country, and it really makes you feel like there's magic everywhere in everyday life, just hiding around the corner. It was my dream to translate it into English one day. Except, in the fifth book, the author brings in an alternate love interest to the MC's literal soulmate, who is a Mr Perfect (and a very shitty, manipulative boyfriend but it's romanticised) and decides to make him the main love interest, because she fell in love with the fake image of perfection she'd created herself. For 6 years, I was waiting for the twist, where it would be revealed that he sucks and that the original love interest is her one true love. It never came. (Sorry for the rant. Very passionate about this one.)

3. Sedmý smysl - Ilka Pacovská

(Seventh sense. Pretty sure that at least one book was translated into English) Another one I read when I was eleven. I remember because the protagonist had the same name as me and was also eleven. Anyway, this (also fantasy) changed the way I see life and magic and was definitely a part of what made me who I am today. Also gave me minor claustrophobia, the description of protagonists being in The Punishment Hole without light or food for several days was very vivid.

4. Křišťály moci - Michaela Burdová

(Crystals of power) Same author as 1. Very similar story, but more complex and better written. I didn't even mind reading what is essentially a reskin of her first series, because of one scene that I will remember forever: At one point, the protag's bf is presumed dead. And she decides, fuck the prophecy, I won't wait until I have all the crystals, grabs a dagger and goes to kill the villain immediately. It doesn't work, obviously, but it's such a girlboss moment.

Pony Club Rivals - Stacy Gregg

Oh look, this one is originally in English! And yes, it's a horse girl book. I don't care. I've only read the first two parts, others weren't translated. Sure, I could buy them in English, but I don't think the story is finished anyway, so I wouldn't get the closure I want. Either way, this book set a bar for (straight) romance in my heart, and veeery few have been able to clear it. It's awesome. Don't try to date me unless you're as charming as the guy she gets together with at the end of the second book. (Or Veragin from Poselství jednorožců. That works too.)

Obviously, bsd and yuumori would be on this list, but I tried to sticking to actual books. Hope this makes at least a little sense.

[lovebykai]

Home

》 TG Chronicles

Pairing: Ghoul!Kenma x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): Violence.

Authors Note: Reposted.

Meeting Kozume Kenma was like coming home.

"Here's your coffee!" You smiled as you sat the mug down, and the boy glanced up at you with a small smile of his own.

"Thanks." Everything about him was just… comfortable. Pleasant.

Sure, sometimes his friends would come in with him and they were a bit much for your tastes -- you'd never just looked at someone and felt a chill in your bones quite like the first time you'd made eye contact with Haiba Lev -- but when it was just him, well… he was easily your favorite customer.

"Whatcha playin' today? Anything good?" You peeked over his shoulder even as you asked, and he chuckled a bit.

"Not really. I'm just waiting for Lev and Tora, today, so I figured I'd give it a shot to kill time." At the mention of what must be your two most intimidating customers, you could feel yourself deflate a bit.

"Awh, and here I thought you just wanted to hang out with me." He tinted pink, and you giggled a bit when you headed back to the coffee machine; just in time, too, because you very much preferred having the long countertop between you and the two men who arrived shortly after that.

"You guys want anything today?" You called, smiling despite the goosebumps that crawled up your arms when their attention shifted to you.

"No, thanks." Tora responded with a wave of his hand -- effectively cutting off whatever Lev was about to say -- before the three of them quietly began talking.

You promptly began to mind your own business.

* * *

Fuckfuckfuckfuck-- You nearly tripped over your own feet at the speed in which you took the next corner. Thankfully, you had worn your running shoes, though it was not because you anticipated running for your life when your shift ended.

"Here, kitty-kitty!" The taunt -- the sheer aloofness of it -- made you let out a bit of a whimper as you tried to catch your breath.

"I don't mind chasing you for a little bit, but I do have some other things I need to get done tonight." The owl mask said he was one of the Fukurodani ghouls -- not that it necessarily mattered, you supposed, since a ghoul was a ghoul was a ghoul as far as a human was concerned -- and that was about the only thing that gave you hope.

Nekoma ghouls were harder to outrun.

"You could always, y'know, fuck off and not bother innocent pedestrians just trying to go home." You offered, just about wheezing as you took a moment to breathe, leaning against a street lamp.

"Awh, what? I thought we were having fun!" The words lit a new fire under your ass and you started running again despite the burning in your limbs-- and your lungs, fuck!

You made the stupid mistake of looking over your shoulder and barreled right into another person as you took another corner; for a moment -- a horrible, cruel moment -- you couldn't help but think: better you than I.

You'd been running with so much force that you knocked the other person over, tripping and sprawling on top of them. Looking down, you were stunned to find Kenma Fucking Kozume underneath you. Of course it would be someone you actually knew and would feel guilt over leaving to get eaten.

"Where'd you go, sweetheart?" Another taunt had you scrambling to climb off of the dumbstruck man beneath you. After a brief second of hesitation, you reached down and hauled him to his feet with a soft groan.

"Keep up." You didn't let go of his hand as you pulled him along behind you; it was genuinely surprising that he didn't just yank away and ignore your brisk order. In fact, he seemed more than capable of keeping up, which almost threw you through a loop since he definitely didn't seem like the type to enjoy exerting himself.

When you finally -- if not a bit unwisely -- made it to your apartment complex you could have sighed in relief, still tugging Kenma along. After putting in the front door code and nearly slamming it behind you, your legs finally quit on you. Letting go of your favorite customer -- who wasn't even winded, the little bastard -- you put your head in your hands and took several deep breaths.

"Are you alright?" Kenma spoke up after a minute of just watching you in silence. When you didn't immediately respond, he sat beside you, pressing his side against yours.

"I don't think I'm gonna be working the evening shifts for a while." You joked after a moment, trembling hands falling away from your face as you tried to smile at him.

"I'll come visit anyway." He promised.

"I'm so sorry about this, but, would you mind, uh, just staying tonight? I promise not to do anything weird or whatever, I just don't want you walking home alone and--"

"I'll stay." The man cut off your rambling, smiling at you when you let out a soft sigh of relief.

* * *

Luckily, it was your day off.

Seeing Kenma asleep on your couch was an experience, to say the least, and you tried not to wake him as you passed by to the kitchen. Turning on the coffee pot -- debating if you even wanted breakfast this early -- you nearly leapt out of your skin when Kenmas phone started ringing. You'd heard it go off a few times last night before finally relaxing enough to go to bed, but he'd opted to ignore their calls in favor of shooting quick texts.

"What, Kuroo?" The husky growl caught your attention; you could feel warmth crawling up the back of your neck. Whatever Kuroo said irritated the faux blond, because he let out groan that shot straight to your core. Oh jeez.

"Y/N?" At the sound of your name, you squirmed a bit before peeking your head around the corner to look at him.

"What's up?" Since it was about five in the morning -- damn your jumbled sleep schedule! -- you were tempted to ask why his friend was calling him so early, but refrained. It wasn't like the two of you were friends or anything; at best, you'd say you were acquaintances.

"I've got to head out, but can I get your contact information? Next time you don't feel safe walking home, you can just text me. I don't live too far from here so it wouldn't be a big deal to walk with you." He ran his fingers through his hair before rubbing at the back of his neck nervously. Your heart fluttered at the gesture, and you nodded in affirmation before turning and heading back into the kitchen to grab your phone. Noticing the coffee had finished brewing, you grabbed one of your thermos from the pantry and filled it.

"Here, some coffee for the road." You offered and he gave you another gentle smile as he put his contact information in your phone and sent himself a quick text.

"Be safe!" You added as he stepped out into the hall; he waved in acknowledgement as your front door shut behind him.

* * *

"Excuse me." It didn't matter how politely the words were said; you felt a chill every time Lev spoke to you. You couldn't even pinpoint why. He'd always been nice to you, and he was almost overly polite sometimes. Maybe it was the fact you could tell he was trying so hard that made you so uncomfortable.

"What can I do for you?" Thankfully, you'd been in customer service for as long as you could remember; faking a smile and interest in people's life was second nature.

"Well, Kenma told us a bit about what happened to you the other night," You could have sworn there was a flash of black in his sclera. "And we just wanted to let you know that you're more than welcome to reach out to any of us if you're feeling unsafe and we'd be happy to make sure you get home okay." After you'd brushed aside what must have been a trick of the light, you took the napkin he passed across the counter, glancing at the table full of his friends behind him. Kenma was the only one to look up, shrugging a bit with his normal soft smile.

Each number was labelled; for a moment you felt yourself soften at the fact that these people who didn't even really know you seemed to care so much.

"Thanks, Lev." For once, the giant of a man didn't seem quite so frightening.

* * *

"Can I get a coffee to go?" You were imagining it. A month after your evening run in with the ghoul, you'd been fine. A little nervous heading home when you had to work evenings at the cafe, but ultimately just fine because Kenma had taken to silently keeping you company more often than not. But that voice.

You didn't even realize you'd frozen until you slowly turned your attention to the man across the counter, hand still inside the mug you'd been drying. He was grinning ear to ear, and you couldn't help but feel like the butt of some kind of joke.

"Yeah… sure thing." You quietly grabbed the to go mug and filled it, flinching when he handed you his cash and insisted you keep the ridiculous fifteen dollar tip.

Almost instinctively, your gaze sought out Kenma, whose own catlike eyes were fixated on the newcomer until he exited the cafe. Once he was gone, your friend turned and gave you his soft sunshine smile that made your heart flutter a bit.

It was silly to think he could protect you from a ghoul, of all things, but you couldn't help but feel safe when he was around.

* * *

"Y/N!" Your first instinct was to run when you heard the familiar voice of Taro behind you. Instead, you fumbled with the keys to the cafe doors, trying desperately to lock up for the night without any incidents.

"Hey, Taro." The words managed to pass your lips without trembling.

"Kenma has a stream tonight so he asked me to walk you home." For being such an intimidating figure, he seemed equally flustered to be alone with you, for which you couldn't help but be grateful. Very few things were as reassuring as someone being just as nervous as you were.

"Oh, thank you." And thus began your awkward walk home. With Kenma, the silence was natural, but with Taro? Well, you were used to eavesdropping on boisterous laughter and jokes, so you were reeling a bit at the drastic change in character.

"Just so you know," He paused on the sidewalk, scratching the back of his head and looking anywhere but at you when you stopped to face him.

"I know we all look a little rough around the edges, but you're safe with us. We'd never let anything happen to you, so you don't have to be scared." For some reason, the gentle reassurance had tears stinging your eyes; when his gaze met yours, you gave him a genuine smile.

"I really appreciate that."

* * *

"So are you guys a gang or whatever?" You were sprawled out on the couch, flipping through your newsfeed on your phone as Kenma tapped away at whatever new game he was playing. Your question seemed to surprise him; you grinned when he fumbled the controls and gave you a small pout over his missed combo.

"More like a family." You hadn't actually expected him to respond to your prying, but his quiet response gave you more questions than answers.

"We've all been friends since high school; we played volleyball together." The explanation made you smile a bit.

"You played volleyball?" At your teasing he smirked a bit, pretending he didn't feel your eyes on him and tapping out another combo.

"Kuroo needed me. Kinda like you." When his golden eyes flickered up to gauge your reaction, you grew flustered; after a moment of brief eye contact, you forced your attention back to your phone. Kenma chuckled softly, and you tried to ignore the heat on your cheeks.

* * *

"You're a hard lady to get ahold of!" The taunt made your skin crawl; staring into the owl mask that had haunted your dreams had you trembling.

"That's on purpose, believe it or not." You choked out, knowing full well he could crush your windpipe with just a little more force. Your feet were barely scraping the ground, and despite your best efforts, no amount of clawing at the hand holding you up would free you.

"Honestly? I would have just let you go that first night, but apparently you're paling around with some Nekoma guys; after that I was dying to get to know you." You let out a whimper when his grip on your throat tightened.

"Drop her." The voice was unfamiliar to you, but apparently the ghoul keeping you pinned to the wall knew enough to listen. When your feet hit the ground, your legs promptly folded; you gasped for air as you tentatively touched your neck.

"You know she's one of ours," After a moment, you were able to shift your gaze up; the cat mask almost made you flinch. "So why are you anywhere near her?"

"You didn't lay a claim on her until after I'd decided to make a meal out of her, so forgive me if I'm a little bitter about your intervention." Rather than listen to what was apparently ghoul politics, you stumbled onto your feet and hurried away from your attacker.

Unfortunately, this put you all but falling into the Nekoma ghoul, who gently caught your arm to keep you upright.

"Stay away from her." The warning was dark, but you didn't hesitate to follow along as he led you away from the alley you'd been caught in.

"That must have been scary." His voice was soothing, almost like a cats purr -- or the rumble of distant thunder -- and you couldn't help but relax.

"But you're always going to be safe with us." You hesitated in your step, looking up at the man who was gently leading you along by the hand. He stopped as well, and you just barely caught his smirk from the edge of his mask.

"Oh."

* * *

“Here’s your coffee!” You passed out the mugs with practiced ease, smiling at the booth full of men.

None of them had asked about the scarf you’d curled around your bruised neck, but you doubted that they needed to, since you were ninety percent sure Kuroo -- who you had recognized immediately by the sound of his voice alone -- was the one who saved your ass the other night. Despite the fact this was obviously something that needed to be kept under wraps, there wasn't any tension between you and the Nekoma ghouls. In fact, things almost seemed to be even more relaxed than they had been.

Lev and Tora cheerfully thanked you, with Kenma and Kuroo mumbling theirs. After a brief heads up that there would be more people joining them a bit later, you just grinned and nodded before heading back to wash mugs behind the counter.

* * *

"The suspense is killing me." You finally groaned as Kenma gently carded his fingers through your hair. The two of you were sprawled out on your bed, listening to some Netflix movie as you both tapped away on your phones.

"What?" He looked down at where your head rested in his lap, raising an eyebrow curiously.

"I just-- none of you have ever mentioned it, and it's killing me. I'm not totally bonkers, right? Kuroo saved my ass that night, huh? I never even thought to thank him and now it feels weird, and-- I dunno, just tell me I'm right so I can get some closure here." You whined, and he grinned.

"Mm. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Kenma!"

* * *

"Don't!" You couldn't help but hesitate, the low growl shooting a spike of adrenaline through you. The sensation was amplified by the way his red eyes fixated on you from across the room.

"Kenma--"

"You shouldn't be anywhere near me right now. Get out!" His tone wavered from indignant growling to borderline hysterical whimpers.

Rather than listen to what was surely a great idea, you glanced over your shoulder at Kuroo. The man nodded a bit, and you hoped that his quiet reassurance of your safety would hold true. Steadying yourself with a deep breath, you moved further into the room, ignoring the way Kenma bared his teeth as you crouched down across from him on the floor.

"Here's some coffee. I made it just for you; please drink it, Kenma." You spoke softly, trying not to let your nerves show as you sat the thermos in front of him.

You wished you knew more about ghouls. Not even just for moments like this -- which were apparently common for Kenma in particular, right before instinct would force him to hunt down a meal -- but because you didn't even see the signs of his growing discomfort.

"I don't know much about all this, but Kuroo decided to try giving me a crash course; all I really picked up was that coffee was a-okay and since it's kinda our thing I figured maybe it would help." He didn't say anything, just staring down at the warm beverage with those unnerving eyes.

"I-- I really like you, Kenma," You added, though this was debatably the worst time for a confession. "I don't like seeing you like this. Please don't-- don't starve yourself, okay?" The words almost got caught in your throat, and you tried not to flinch at the glare that your friend fixated on you for them.

"You don't know what you're talking about." It was harsher than he had ever been with you, but you didn't allow yourself to waver.

"You're right, I don't. But that doesn't change the fact that you have to eat." Your calm tone seemed to agitate him further; when he lurched forward, you couldn't help but gasp.

Kenmas fingers dug into your shoulders as he pressed you down onto the floor, straddling you. From the corner of your eye, you spotted Levs panicked expression, and the way Kuroos arm struck out to hold the larger male back.

"I could just eat you and be done with it." That hurt; something on your face must have given the sentiment away, because the grin he gave you was bordering on manic. The thin trail of saliva that was beginning to gather at the corner of his mouth and drip to the floor beside you made him seem feral.

"What? So it's just fine to eat someone if it isn't you? Did you think you were special? You're just another human."

"I must be, since you've decided to monologue over it." You bit back, steeling your nerves as his fingernails actually pierced your skin. The coolness of your blood immediately seeping into the fabric of your shirt made you whimper softly.

"If you're gonna do it then just do it. Don't talk big because you're hangry that people actually want you to take care of yourself!" You didn't even realize you were yelling until his grip loosened and he sat back, staring down at you with those eyes. The eyes of a predator.

Maybe that was why it was so shocking to see tears build up in them as Kenma started to cry.

* * *

"I'm so sorry." Kenma pressed tentative touches to your damaged shoulders as Morisuke grumbled, slapping at his friends hands while bandaging you up.

"To be honest," You grinned ruefully over your shoulder at him. "I knew you wouldn't kill me, but I was totally psyching myself up to lose a limb or something, so if this the worst of it, I'm just fine." Kenma looked scandalized as you laughed at your own morbid joke.

Morisuke tugged a little harder on the bandages he was tightening -- earning a soft hiss and wince from you -- as a silent reprimand you decided to heed.

* * *

"I love you." It was such a weird time to say it.

You were in the kitchen, making yourself something to eat while your pseudo-family of ghouls bickered over what movie to watch in the living room. Kenma was leaning against the counter, hands tucked into the pocket of his jacket and hair twisted up in a lazy bun, grinning at you.

"I love you too. Y'know, if you couldn't tell already." You teased as he watched you, trying to pretend it didn't set your heart on fire. When you turned to face him, leaving the meal to simmer for a bit, he stepped forward and gripped your hips carefully.

"I don't… scare you?" The question was a whisper, barely audible over the boisterous laughter in the other room. You ran your hands up his clothed arms reassuringly.

"Nah," He was staring so intensely that you could feel yourself growing warmer; silently you hoped he didn't notice how flustered you were. "You're just you. Ghoul or human or whatever -- and I know you would never hurt me." Stepping closer, you wrapped your arms around his middle and buried your face against his neck, trying to combat his staring as you mumbled against his own pinkening skin.

"You're my safe place. I could be anywhere in the world, and as long as you're with me, I'm home."

Long fingers gripped your hair for a moment as he squeezed you in an almost too-tight embrace, before gently guiding your head back to look into your eyes once more.

When Kenma kissed you, you smiled.

I'm home.

[mfpeace]

@justbeingedgy @weird-colombian-gurl You asked me to elaborate on the "Ches already has a kid" theory in the notes of that one mf analysis post (which I really liked, go check it out!!), so that's why I'm making this one, cuz notes are a bit too restricting for what I want to talk about!

Though next time think twice before asking me to talk about something I'm interested in, because you never know when you're gonna wake up lovecraftian horrors!! :DDD you'll see what i mean when you press read more :))

So, I'll say it right now - this post is largely inspired by the second story highlight of this Instagram user (sorry, I don't know their name, only that their Instagram handle is dee_girl_metalfamilyfan), it's in Russian though, so keep that in mind

Alright, so I'll break this theory into two parts: the first one will be all about Ches, and the second will be about his potential child (spoiler: you might've seen her!)

Without any further ado, let's get to the Ches part:

1. The creators said that they're gonna explore Ches' character in the second season. Obviously, it doesn't mean anything on it's own, but just wait.

Dima: Let's talk about the second season a little. Of course, the seconds season will show development of the old characters, as well as new ones. That's in short. As you see, Ches looks a bit different here.

Alina: Yeah, we'll show a bit more about Ches at the ages of 18 to 20. His past. We'll reveal a bit more about his complex character, as much as it's possible.

(The source of the translation) Also I think they also said at one point that adult Ches will get some character development too? But that's probably a given, considering that we wouldn't see his youth if it wouldn't have affected him in the present, flashbacks without any relevance to the overall story don't sound so good

2. Not sure about this one (we don't know how much in character it was) but I can't not mention it.

Alina: Actually there was this one fanfic that I really liked. I don’t remember what it was called, but it was about Ches having a daughter, which is a cool topic. It was relatively in character and truly interesting. It’s great when people focus not just on sexual relationships of the characters, but also try to look at their development. That was a really interesting one. That’s it.

(UnityCon '19)

3. This one's a pretty big one, in my opinion. So, this is what they said on ArtWave '19:

Dima: Ches also has flaws.

Alina: [to Dima] Don’t spoil stuff.

Dima: His flaw is that he's very... irresponsible, let’s say.

So, maybe, just maybe, Ches does have a child but he, you know... left them? As the Instagram highlight from the beginning say: "he might be irresponsible enough to leave his child, and he's probably irresponsible enough not to use any contraception" (rephrased, not the exact quote)

4. Alright, so, the only mention of this one I can think of right now is the aforementioned Instagram highlight. The Metalfamilyfan says:

I contacted Korg/Корж, (admin of @ metal_yama [and I believe one of the organizers of the Metal Family Meetup in Moscow]) and she asked Alina on one of the meetups: "if Ches were to be a father, what kind of father would he be?"

And she said: "The kind of that would say "kid, look at that birdie over there!" an then he would run away"

Someone's words are not the perfect source, but they did tag Metal Yama and from what I know they didn't disagree with what the author of the page said. if anyone has anything to say about this (disprove or definitely prove what I said) feel free to do so in a reblog, notes, DMs, send me an anonymous ask, or in any other way you feel comfortable with

5. Ches has literally been through the same thing, and we know how important the theme of the cycle of abuse is in Metal Family (or, in this case, the cycle of neglect? Abandonment? Idk)

You managed to hide your PREGNANCY from me! AND you've been hiding the child from me for a whole year!

YES, because you would've insisted on aborting him!

AND NOW I'M INSISTING ON PUTTING HIM UP FOR ADOPTION! OR I'LL LEAVE RIGHT NOW!

6. Here we can see Ches with a blonde girl. Nothing too special, probably just a one time hook up. He doesn't seem to be interested in her, and she seems to be annoyed with him.

But wait...

What is this?

Like, it doesn't even matter if there's actually a punk/rock/whatever band named MOM or not, I just think it's pretty weird to put it in this particular drawing of Ches and this random woman who is implied to have slept with him. It's not integral to Ches' character as, for example, Korol i Shut is. It's just... there. For some reason.

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

Alright, now, finally let's get to the second part of the theory: who is, exactly, his child?

The short answer is, according to this theory, her:

First, let me list every single instance of her appearing in canon (and by canon I mean everything made by the creators. Even with this definition of canon it's not much, I promise): The screenshot you can see above on the left (it's a screenshot from the second season and it appeared here), an instagram story posted by Alina (above, right), and two drawing with a lot of characters where you can spot the girl which I'm gonna call her PinkHair or PH for short, I'll mention them later I feel like I should mention this, comparing the sources of the images and the dates when they were posted, it's safe to assume that the screenshot in the classroom has the latest and final version of her design. The red hair most likely doesn't mean anything

1. Alright. So. we've seen Dee and PinkHair in a classroom together, so they're most likely related in some way, or at least they know each other. Their exact relationship doesn't matter here, because all that matters here is that they're related story-wise

Let's look at the first image. This is the banner of the main Metal Family channel. Ches is near Heavy (they get along quite well and I'm sure Heavy aspires to be like Ches in many ways), Dee (we can see his classmates/friends near him, they're all about his age), and we can see people related to Glam on the left side of the image (including Ches!), and Vicky's - on the right side (notice how the hell sign is also there)

Now, I'm not absolutely sure about this one, but it's still kind of weird - look at the image on the right (it's from ArtWave 2021 btw) - wouldn't it make more sense to put PinkHair near Dee? Also, Curiously enough, not only is she not close to Dee on this image, but she's also standing next to Ches.

Though this whole thing could be explained by art theory (too many small things in one corner of your drawing isn't great composition wise lol sorry PH) but I still can't quite skip this point

2. Remember the "MOM" lady? Fun fact, she has the exact same pearl earring that PinkHair has on the screenshot.

3. I'll put all similarities with her supposed parents in this point: Mother: * She's also pretty uh.. glam? for the lack of a better word? Or feminine in a traditional sense, yeah I think that's a better way to put it. Like colors they prefer to wear for example, and jewelry. Characters like that aren't common in Metal Family * She's gotta be a blonde. I can't imagine her being anything but blonde. If she manages to maintain that hair color as a brunette I'm just straight up assuming her character arc is gonna be killing God because these kind of people are capable of anything. I fear them with every fiber of my being. * I can't say for sure because of the shading, but it seems like they both have gray eyes, and she also has darker skin compared to most MF characters. Though, it's likely that Mom just applied a lot of fake tan Ches: * We know that Ches for sure has darker skin * AND grey eyes * There's also some possible personality similarities but I'm not sure if you can compare a child to a parent they've never really known in this way

That's about it, I suppose, I hope there isn't that many grammar mistakes and logically unfinished parts and whatnot in this post I forgot to edit lol x) I'm not sure how to end this post other than to remind you guys that almost all the points in this posts are inspired by the "тупая теория" highlight on the dee_girl_metalfamilyfan's Instagram page, so go check them out and subscribe, they post Dee x The Quest Girl fanart and and always credit the artists. Without them this post would be much, much shorter.

Thanks for reading this post, please feel free to let me know your thoughts on this post <3

[20moonchild21]

𝗦𝗲𝗵𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵𝘁 [𝗯𝘁𝘀]

⇉ 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 9

[pairings]

JK x female!oc, Bunny!JK x human!female!oc, Jin x female!oc, Leopard!Jin x human!female!oc, Jimin x female!oc, white Tiger!Jimin x human!female!oc, Taehyung x female!oc, black Tiger!Taehyung x human!female!oc, JK x Jin x Jimin x Taehyung x female!oc

[warnings]

very grumpy Tae, threats, flashbacks of abusive past, mentions Hybrid auction, traumatized Jimin and Tae, trust issues, mentions of blood, mentions of eating disorder

[words]

4.0k

[author] ⇉ please, read!

Okay, I swear I absolutely love Tae, but he just fits in that grumpy role. I actually want to upload all the other chapters so badly all at once, but I can’t!!!! You and I have to be patient a little while longer!

While waiting for my next update on Wednesday, you could actually check out my favorite author @starlightauroras-main. She wrote that really cute story Inferiority complex. I love it so much, and you definitely have to read it too!

Also, check out my other inspirations below this chapter. Like always, my message board is open for recommendations, wishes, criticism or whatever it is on your heart.

I also want to thank you guys so so so much for always leaving me so much likes and those super cute comments. I swear, I see all of them and they make me so proud and happy, but unfortunately, I cannot answer all of the comments. I wish I could!🥺 💜

PS: People often ask me what 𝗦𝗲𝗵𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵𝘁 actually means, so here is the answer:

Sehnsucht is a German word (I am from Germany, lol), and it stands for „the inconsolable longing in the (human) heart for we know not what ; a yearning for a far, familiar, (non-) earthly land one can identify as one‘s (n.)“

Kind of cute, don’t you think?

Stay healthy and safe!

Mꨄ

[chapter 8 ||| chapter 10]

“Okay, everyone needs to calm down.” She took a deep breath, as she closed her eyes.

“We are calm.” Jungkook piped in from beside her, as him and Jin and sat down next to her on the table. “You – You are the one who makes a scene.”

The girl chuckled nervously, before she opened her eyes to look at the boys. Jungkook had laid his head down on his hands, that were rested on the table. His ears hung loosely bedside his face, while his big, brown deer eyes were looking up at the girl, eyebrows cocking up. Jin beside him had wrapped both of his hands around the hot mug that was filled with coffee, while he cocked his eyebrows up as well.

“Oh my god. I am really making a scene?” She whined while her eyes moved away from both of her Hybrids over to the white tiger, who’s eyes were flickering between the girl and the other two boys.

When his eyes met the girl’s gaze properly, he stopped fiddling with his fingers. A heavy shed of red started spreading over his cheeks, before he quickly shook his head and dropped his eyes. After she had brought him and his brother breakfast, Jimin had carefully asked if he was allowed to leave his room. Taehyung on the other hand had refused to leave his bed. When she had offered Jimin to take a seat at the table, he had looked at her with wide eyes but not taken her offer. He rather stood next to the table, watching the scene in front of him.

“Why are you so nervous, Hope?” Jungkook had lifted his head and was now leaning it on his hands. “You are so smart.”

Hope chuckled at his innocence. She had told them roughly why it was so important to her that her term papers would be free of any mistakes, but she doubt that they had really understood the how much of her future depended on this.

“Thank you, Kookie.” She drover her finger through the thick hair at the back of his head. “But this is really important. If I made the smallest mistake, it might be that I can’t be a lawyer, which means that I can’t defend Hybrids in front of the Judge, you know?”

Jungkook just hummed, as he moved his head against her hand, getting himself a nice massage.

“What – What is a – a lawyer?” The girl moved her eyes away from the bunny.

Jimin was still fiddling with his sleeves, but he was now looking at the girl, his cheeks still covered in red.

“Do you know what a judge is, Jimin?” The girl asked the white tiger, as she kept driving her hand through Jungkook’s hair. Jimin thought for a moment, before he quickly nodded. “A lawyer is someone who tries to convince the judge, that the one who is accused should not be punished. I want to try to convince the judge, that human should be punished for hurting a Hybrid in any way. This is why this term papers are so important to me because if I made any mistakes, they won’t allow me to defend any Hybrids.”

“But she is the smartest girl in the world.” Jungkook had opened his eyes and was now looking sharply at Jimin, almost snapping at the tiger. “That’s why she is going to be a lawyer.”

Jimin, who seemed to be pretty intimidated by the bunnies words, wrapped his tail tightly around his left leg, before he nodded quickly. Hope nudged Jungkook’s arm slightly, gesturing for him to not sound so harsh.

“Don’t worry, Hope.” Jin put his mug back on the table. “You checked your terms several times. There is no chance you made any mistakes.”

The girl took a deep breath and nodded. Jin was right. She had read over the cases so many times, making sure that there was not a single detail left that would cause any problems. She had checked her terms for grammar mistakes or wrong spelled words. It must be bulletproof.

“You are right, Jin.” She whispered and placed her finger at the ‘send’ button. “I will send it out now.”

Jungkook grabbed the girl’s arm, before pulling it down and took her smaller hand in his, squeezing it slightly. She looked one last time towards the leopard, getting an encouraging nod from. With a last, deep breath, she bundled up all her effort and finally pressed her finger onto the mouse.

“You did it.” Jungkook whispered, before he stood up and wrapped his arms around the sitting girl.

“Are you a lawyer now?” Jimin piped in with a small voice.

“Not yet, Jimin.” She watched the tiger, as he carefully walked around the table to take a look at her laptop screen. “It needs time. The committee needs to read my whole term, then they need to check my arguments if they are true or not and then they will decide if I can be a lawyer or not.”

Jimin kept staring at the screen, his eyes flickering over the symbols and letters. Somehow, he reminded her of Jungkook, who would always have the same sparkle in his eyes when he learns something new.

She sighed, as she laid her head on Jungkook’s head, who had leaned his head against her shoulder. It seemed like Jin had accepted the fact that the tigers would be staying with them for a certain am out of time, but she also hoped that Jungkook and the both other Hybrids would get along the time they would be staying here.

She felt her heart tighten when she thought about the two tigers. Where would they go after Taehyung’s injuries were all good again? She didn’t even know what had happened to the two tigers. What if their owners were the same kind as Jin and Jungkook’s old owners? What if they were looking for them and punish them for running away. What if someone would caught them strolling around the streets without someone to look after them? They would immediately lock them away or even worse.

“You are spacing out again.” Jin’s chuckling voice was ripping her out of her thoughts. “What are you thinking about?”

“I – ehm – I” All the three Hybrids were looking at her now. “I was thinking about – ehm – Taehyung. I haven’t looked over his arm yet. Do you think he would allow me to change his bandage, Jimin?”

She felt a slight vibration going through her shoulder, as Jungkook growled at the black tiger’s name. Since Taehyung had showed off his fangs the previous, Jungkook had never left the girl’s side again, too scared that the tiger would hurt her.

Jimin meanwhile, had taken a small step back. He started fiddling with his fingers again, eyes flickering around the ground, before he slightly shook his head.

“I – I don’t think so. He was pretty angry this morning.” He whispered, not looking up. “I am sorry for him. He is scared and unsettled. He – he would never hurt someone on purpose. He –“

“He threatened us with his fangs.” Jungkook quickly interrupted him, pressing his eyes together. “Hope just wanted to help him.”

“I know.” Jimin’s sad eyes were looking up at Jungkook, ears flat against his head. “I will try to talk to him later. But I promise that he would have never hurt you.”

“Don’t worry, Jimin.” Hope tried to friendly smile at him. “It takes time to fully trust someone, but I understand. He will warm up eventually. But I need to change his bandage, or else the infection could get worse.”

To her surprise, Jimin’s mouth lifted up. He smiled happily, before he nodded quickly. He turned around and run down the hallways, entering his and Taehyung’s room. When he was gone, Jin stretched himself. It looked kind of funny, because he not only stretched his arms over his head, he also stretched his ears and tail way from him.

“I will cook something for lunch.” He announced, before he stood up and grabbed his mug.

“Since you started cooking for us I gained weight, you know?” The girl laughed, as she rubber her belly to support her statement.

Jin just shook his head and walked into the kitchen, starting to prepare lunch. The girl smiled at Jin’s eagerness to cook for the three, and now the five, of them. She could see the happiness in his eyes, when he set up he table or when her and Jungkook tell him how tasty his meals are. She was glad that thing with him had turned out in a good way.

“Jungkook.” She mumbled against the bunny’s hair. “Can you try to be nice to them. Jimin is trying really hard to be good. I think you scare him away sometimes.”

“Good, he better is.” Jungkook mumbled back, and she could clearly hear the amusement in his voice.

“Please, Kookie.” She tried again, nudging his arm slightly. “I don’t want them to feel not welcome here. Can you try for me, please?”

The bunny didn’t answer. He just kept his eyes closed, burring his face against her shoulder, mumbling something she couldn’t understand.

Just in that moment, the sound of an opening door rang through the apartment. Jimin came out of the room, pulling a crumply looking Taehyung behind him. Both tigers made their way down the hallway, before they stopped in front of the table, where Hope and Jungkook were still sitting. The girl smiled up at them, before she carefully pushed a protesting bunny from her shoulder and stood up.

“Jungkook, why don’t you and Jimin ask Jin if he needs help, while I change Taehyung’s bandage?” She asked nicely, before she grabbed the first aid kid from the cupboard on the wall.

Jungkook and Jimin looked at each other for a few seconds, before both nodded shyly. Jungkook started walking first, but not before he made a V-sign with his fingers, pointing at his eyes and then at Taehyung’s eyes. Jimin flashed Taehyung a look as well, before he trailed after Jungkook into the kitchen.

Taehyung didn’t hesitate, as he pulled himself a chair back and sunk down on it. He laid his injured arm onto the table, turning his head away from the girl, nose trails went wide. The girl sighed, but sat down next to him, gathering all the supplies she would need on the table. She didn’t tried to start a conversation, she just took off the used bandage and started cleaning up the scratch.

As the wet clothed touched his swollen and sensitive skin, the tiger hissed slightly. He slowly turned his head in her direction, opening his mouth so she could clearly see his fangs. It was just now that she actually was close enough to look at them properly.

From the thick root all the way down to the razor thin and sharp tip, the bright white the stood out from the red gums. They were definitely longer than his front teeth, maybe by one inch, which meant that he could easily cut through her skin.

“I am not scared of your fangs, Taehyung.” She simply stated, looking back down and not stopping to whip the cloth over his injury.

The black tiger didn’t response. Instead, he started laughing quietly and shaking his head. He leaned his elbow that was not injured on the table, before he put his head in his hand, still looking at the girl. He lifted his lips even more, showing her the whole length of his carves, while licking his lips over them.

“Is that so?” He laughed, making Hope looking up once again. When she was directly looking into his deep brown eyes, he started talking in a lower voice again. “Why are you lying to me? I can smell your fear. I can sense your heart beating in fear. I can see the fear in your eyes, little human.”

The way his breath was tickling her ear in combination with his very deep voice, were indeed making her heart beat faster. She gulped slightly and moved her eyes away from Tae’s eyes, looking over to the kitchen, but she couldn’t spot Jungkook or Jin….or even Jimin, who would gave her a safer feeling.

“What?” Taehyung had noticed her desperate attempt to look for help. “Do you want to call your little bunny for – ouch!”

He hissed sharply, as she whipped the wet cloth harder over the sensitive skin. He was right, his sharp fangs were somehow intimidating her, but she wouldn’t let him threaten her like this, and she would definitely not allow the tiger to talk about Jungkook as weak.

“I am really sorry.” She hissed back, throwing the clothe away and opening the tube with salve. “I am just trying to help you, Taehyung. But if you don’t like my help, my front door is always open. You can leave anytime you want to. I won’t force you to stay.”

Taehyung hissed again when she applied the salve without take much care. She didn’t want to hurt him at all, but his attitude was getting on her nerves. Taehyung closed his eye tightly, before he bit the inside of his cheek hard, a growl raising up his throat.

“Oh believe me, little girl, if it wasn’t for Jimin, I would leave immediately.” He opened his eyes, staring directly into hers, whispering in his deep, low voice again. “I am warning you, don’t push me too far. I am not scared of a leopard and a bunny, and I won’t hesitate to hurt them, if they try to harm my brother in any way.”

“So Jimin, how did you come to New York?” Jin put the noodles into the pot, before he closed the lid.

Jimin and Jungkook had asked the older boy if he needed some help, while Hope wrapped up Taehyung’s arm. He gladly told them to cut all the vegetables into small pieces, while he would prepare the sauce and noodles.

“I – ehm –“ He coughed, before he started talking again. “Me and my brother are Bengal Tigers. We are from Korea, but they took us to New York because of an auction.”

Jin didn’t miss the way his voice went quieter with each word. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw how his ears were flatly pressed against his black hair, while he had wrapped his tail around his leg. He know exactly how Jimin must feel. When he was younger, his old owner had bought him at an auction in Korea as well.

“What is an auction?” Jungkook laid his knife down and was now looking with wide eyes at the tiger and then at Jin.

It was the first time since the previous night that Jungkook actually tried to talk to Jimin. The bunny had told Jin the night before about his concerns. Jungkook was a nice guy. He never meant to be mean or offended to someone, but his fear about the Hope getting hurt, or that she would like someone more than him was too much for him to handle.

“Human organize auctions to illegally buy rare Hybrid breeds.” Jimin whispered, not looking up at the bunny. “They locked us in a cage, so that all the visitor can look at us. My brother wanted to protect me, as one of the visitor tried to inspect my tail, but the guards stopped him. They – they hurt him badly.”

Though Jin had never been at an auction, he could feel the pain that the younger tiger went through. He knew what it felt to be helpless if a person you love was hurt by a human. He shivered at those memories.

“The girl –“ Jimin started after a moment of silence. “Have you always been living with her?”

“No.” Jungkook had taken his knife again, cutting the cucumber furiously. “She found me first. A few weeks ago, she took me in. She gave me food and something to drink and a bed to sleep. Later, she bought Jin from our old owner and took him in as well. She didn’t even request something in return, she just gave us anything we could have ever asked for.”

As he spoke, his voice held a tone of bitterness. Though Jungkook had come far since he was taken in here, the past was still sitting in his bones. He didn’t want to admit it, but Jin sometimes noticed how he would wake up in the middle on the night, scared and confused. Jin wanted so desperately to help him, but he had no other choice than to be there for him as much as possible.

“Thank you for letting us stay with you.” Jimin suddenly said. He turned around and looked at Jin. “I know that you don’t like us here, especially if my brother behaves like this, but – but –“

“It’s okay, Jimin.” Jin stepped forward and laid a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder. “Just a few weeks ago, we were in the same situation as the both of you. We know what you are going through, and we were glad that Hope took us in without any conditions.”

The three boys kept preparing their lunch for another few minutes, still talking about their lives, when suddenly they head the loud noise of a door slamming, followed by a long silence. Jin was about to look what was going on, but Hope was already walking into the kitchen. She flashed the three boys a sad smile, before she washed her hands in the sink.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook’s eyes help panic, as he watch the blood falling down in the sink. “Did he hurt you? I swear if he –“

“No, it’s okay. His wound was bleeding pretty bad, but I wrapped it up so it should be okay.” She dried her hands and turned around. “But he is still pretty unhappy with everything.”

She leaned herself against the counter, wrapping her arms around her waist. Jin didn’t need to ask her if anything was okay, he could smell it in her aura, that she as battling in her head. He knew how much she wanted to help Jimin and his brother, and that Taehyung was rejecting her help was really nudging at her bones.

“Don’t chew your lips, Hope.” Jin bend down to pull the plates out of the cupboard, before he pushed them into the girl’s arms. “Jimin, do you want to join us at the table or are you eating with Taehyung?”

Jimin’s eyes flickered from the stack of plates towards the hallway. He sighed, before he told them that he would eat with his brother. Jin nodded and prepared two plates of food, before adding two bottles of water onto the tray. He passed it to Jimin who politely bowed his head, as he made his way into the room.

“Don’t you want to try, Tae?” Jimin asked his brother, who sat arm crossed beside him on the bed. “It’s really good and look, I cut the vegetables.”

The black tiger breathed out hard, but eventually he grabbed the fork that laid next to his plate and began to eat. He wanted to spit this food out so badly, but he had to admit that it really did taste good.

“Who does this human girl think she is.” He put his plat back down on the tray, slamming fork down next to it. “She hurt me on purpose, Jimin. She asked for me to hurt her. I was just this far away – only this far away from ripping her throat out. Pathetic human.”

Jimin didn’t respond. The older tiger just kept shoving his fork around his plate, not looking up at his brother. Tae was irritated by this behaviour. Normally, they both would avoid to have contact in any way with human. They both shared the same opinion on them, which was why he couldn’t understand how Jimin could hang around with that girl all day long.

“Jimin?” Tae asked annoyed when the older one didn’t look at him. “Why are you acting that way? You agree with me, don’t you?”

Jimin was still not looking at the younger one.

“Don’t you, Jimin?” Tae asked again, bit this time with a quitter voice.

“I –“ Jimin stopped, looking for the right words to continue. “I just don’t think that she is that bad. I mean, Jin and Jungkook seem to be pretty – happy? Maybe she is –“

“Nice? Kind? Different than the other human?” Tae smiled at Jimin, before his face dropped. “Forget it, Jimin. Human are all the same. I don’t trust that little girl.”

How could Jimin be so blind? Hadn’t the past encounters with human had been enough reasons to not trust those creatures again? He breathed out again, adding a growl. Just because that girl and her pets had offered them their help didn’t mean that Tae would jump into her arms.

It wasn’t that he was not thankful for her help, even when he had threatened her earlier with hid fangs. It had made him angry, that he actually hadn’t had smelled any fear at all in her scent. She hadn’t lied at all. But that didn’t change a single thing about his opinion on her. If she or her pets would do one wrong move towards Jimin or him, he could not promise anything.

He watched his brother eating his lunch quietly. It scared him that Jimin looked so pale and skinny. He had always been a skinny boy, but he had loosen a lot of weight while they were out on their own. Tae wasn’t stupid. He had noticed that Jimin had saved all the food they had left for him, so he could get healthy again. Even though Jimin was older that him by a few months, Taehyung had that urge to protect that smaller male from any threats.

He hadn’t lied earlier. If it wasn’t for Jimin, if Jimin wasn’t here with him, if he only had a responsibility for his own, he would have never taken a step inside the girl’s apartment. It was all for his brother.

“It’s just – “ Jimin was still not looking up at his brother, but Tae could clearly hear the bitterness in his tone. “Last night was the first night I actually had a proper sleep since a very long time, Tae. I wasn’t worried about you not eating enough, I wasn’t worried about you being cold, I wasn’t worried about you being in pain. Can we just – can we just enjoy the time we are allowed to stay here?”

“I don’t know about you.” Tae laughed and leaned himself back against the headboard of the bed, arms behind his head, legs stretched out wide. “But I am enjoying my stay.”

Jimin turned his head, but not saying anything. Tae knew that it was harsh of his to talk about the girl’s offers like that, but it wasn’t like he was going to stay forever. So why not enjoying this comfort for once?

“You know what I meant.” Jimin sighed, as he let go of his fork, letting himself fall back on the soft mattress. “Jin and Jungkook are actually nice to talk to. It was the first real conversation I had in a very long time. Beside, I feel really bad to use the human girl like that. Don’t you think we should show some thankfulness?”

Tae had heard a lot of stupid ideas coming out of his brother’s mouth, but this was an absolutely highlight. His whole life, human had threaten him like he worth nothing to them. They had hurt him, they had humiliated him, they had locked him up, and now he should show some thankfulness?

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jimin.” He growled quietly, closing his eyes. “It’s not like we forcing her to help us. Plus, we won’t stay long, so don’t get attached to that human or her pets.”

[recommendations | Inspirations]

@wishesunderthestars

@agustdakasuga

@ditttiii

@angelicyoongie

@starlightauroras-writes

[mrslilyrogers]

Betrayal Part 5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: (AU) Set in New York. You and Bucky have been married for 5 years. He’s the love of your life and you are his. At least, you thought you were until he started slipping away from you, coming home late and smelling of another woman’s perfume? You are in denial. Are you just losing your mind or are you really losing him?

Author’s notes: Hello guys! For those who want to get tagged, please just message me in my ask. Without further ado, here is Part 5. Hope you’re all ready :D 

Warnings: Cheating, Angst

Part 1 Part 2��Part 3 Part 4 

“Come on, pick up pick up,” Y/N said into the phone as she called Bucky. She looked at Lizzie who whimpered in her sleep, her fevered skin flushed. Immediately after her argument with him, she stormed to their room and locked the door. She didn’t care where he slept anymore. Whether he stayed on the couch, or went back to his mistress, that was all up to him. She wasn’t going to tolerate this, she couldn’t even if she wanted to. The fact that he couldn’t even face her, couldn’t even look her in the eye and tell her the truth was the tipping point. She married a coward. She thought they could fix this, but how could it be fixed when no one wanted to face the truth? She’s had enough. Her love wasn’t enough to fix this marriage and she would choose herself and her daughter before he drowned them both. She had finally decided, come tomorrow morning, she’d take Lizzie with her and figure out how they would go from there. She promised herself tomorrow she would be strong but tonight, tonight’s my time to grieve.

She couldn’t help her nagging suspicion to check downstairs to see if he had actually stayed. It wouldn’t have mattered either way but she wanted to know. Her padded footsteps across the dark, empty living room floor solidified her suspicion.

She married a coward.

She picked up their wedding photo on the table by the couch, hardly recognizing the two people madly in love staring back at her. Since when had they become strangers? She didn’t even know how long she’d been standing there, staring at the picture frame in her hands. All her dreams of a happy family with him crushed and all for what? She hoped it was worth it for him. She took a step back, leaving the frame facing down, not having the courage to look at it any longer and headed to the kitchen. How else would she grieve anyway without the help of her favorite bottle of wine?

At some point way past midnight, after consuming more than half the bottle while she tortured herself scrolling through their old pictures on her phone, she knew she had to call it a night. Everything looked better in the morning, she reminded herself as she dragged her feet up the stairs to check on Lizzie. She hoped to God it was true, how else would she survive?

The sight of Lizzie stopped her in her tracks. What the hell happened? Her skin was flushed as she shivered in her sleep, curling her body into a ball with her tiny hands clutched at the blanket. Y/N ran the few steps to her and immediately dropped the back of her hand on her forehead, feeling herself sober up as quickly as Lizzie’s heated skin shocked her. This was bad. This was really bad.  She had a full blown fever in a span of a few hours. Was that even possible? She seemed fine, she said she was only tired, How could they have missed this? Her panicked mind moved before she even registered what she was doing, “Come on, pick up, pick up,” she begged into the phone before his voice sent her straight to voicemail. Damn it! She paced the room, calling Bucky again.

“Mommy? I don’t feel so good,” Lizzie croaked from her bed. Y/N rushed back to her, immediately tucking her phone back in her pocket as Lizzie vomited right where she was.

“Sorry,” she rasped, laying her head back on her pillow.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay. Mommy’s gonna get you cleaned up, okay?” Y/N tried not to let her alarm show, her hands shaking when she changed her out of her soiled clothes.

“Baby, mommy’s gonna be right back, she’ll just get you medicine okay?”

When Lizzie just nodded, she quickly ran to their medicine cabinet to grab the thermometer and Children’s Tylenol. She added some washcloths too and a basin full of water, hoping she was doing the right thing. When the normally fussy Lizzie didn’t even complain about the taste of the medicine, she knew just how bad she felt. Worry and panic gnawed at her as she tried to remember how her mother used to treat her when she was sick. Wiping the tepid washcloth over Lizzie’s skin, she tried to think of her options. She should call Nat despite the late hour. Bruce should know what to do even though he always says he wasn’t that kind of doctor. Those PhDs had to count for something right? After placing the cloth on Lizzie’s forehead, she measured her temperature. Please don’t let it be too high, please don’t let it be too high. 102 °F. Shit.

She paced the room again and wrung her free hand as she waited for her best friend to answer her call but to no avail, she got redirected to voicemail. Shit, shit, shit. This time she called Bruce, not caring anymore that she’d be waking them up. When no one answered, Lizzie whimpered again.

“Mommy, I’m dizzy,”

Y/N took that as a bad sign and put her soothing hand on her child’s forehead. “I know, sweetheart. Does anything else hurt?”

She just shook her head and raised her blanket higher.

“Alright, baby. Rest first okay? Mommy will take care of you, I promise,”

She picked her phone up again, giving a quick text to Bucky to call her as soon as he could before calling Steve, somehow knowing he’d know what to do. She needed his calming authoritative nature while her mind had gone haywire. He has always been the one in their group to call for emergencies, it just came with his hero complex.

“Hey, Y/N, what’s going on?” Steve asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Steve!” He heard her frantic reply on the line, making him sit up on his bed. “I can’t contact Bucky, he isn’t home and Lizzie, she’s sick.  She has a fever, she’s thrown up already and I--”

“Hold on, hold on, Y/N, calm down. Have you given her anything?”  

“I just gave her Tylenol but she’s still burning up and I think she’s nauseous, I don’t know what to do. Nat hasn’t picked up so I couldn’t ask Bruce what else I could give her, I should bring her to the hospital right? What am I saying? I’m bringing her now,” Steve could hear her panicked footsteps while she gathered everything she needed.

“Y/N wait, where the hell is Bucky? Should I try looking for him now?” He asked, already putting his shoes on. Y/N barely heard him, checking her driver’s license in her purse and grabbing her car keys before remembering...

“Shit!”

“What?” Steve asked, his heart in his throat. What now?

“Steve, I’ve been drinking! I need to call you back, I have to book an Uber,”

“No. Stay where you are. I’ll come get you,” his calm voice ordered, belying the anger he felt inside. If Bucky wasn’t already dead, he’d be sure to kill the jerk himself.  

_______________________________________________________________________

Bucky woke up with a splitting headache as he stretched his sore muscles from the odd angle he fell asleep in. His bent legs burning from squeezing himself into the small couch of his office. He sat up, groaning, while he massaged the tense muscles of his neck. He had been so mad after receiving that text from Celeste. It had been almost a week since he ended it with her, the day that Lizzie with her big and generous heart, proudly smiled at him when she thought she had solved his problem by making her uncle Steve go for her career day instead of him, her actual father. He still remembered it like a blow to the stomach, knocking the air right out of him. His daughter, so giving and thoughtful and he’d inadvertently pushed her away, pushed them away. It still sent chills to his spine to think of just how close he is of losing them. So instead of facing his wife last night, instead of admitting his mistake, he let his demons get the best of him and ran. Ran to drink himself into oblivion but her face was all he could see. The disappointment she felt for him etched in her features. She had lost hope and he knew it. What was he going to do? Drinking definitely wasn’t it. The more sensible part of his brain told him. But his whole life, that’s all he’s ever known. Rumlow’s laughing voice echoing in his head, “You’ll always get your answers at the end of a bottle,” Bucky cursed himself. He thought he’d buried that part of himself when he met Y/N, when she gave him her smile and her heart without a care of his past and he was selfish enough to take it. He should’ve known he’d fall back in, it’s just who you are. Just when he thought his night couldn’t get any worse, his phone vibrated from his pocket, a text from Celeste. Right, just what he needed. Of course, it was going to get worse.

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So there he was almost at midnight, knocking at her apartment door, hoping he’d get this over and done with fast enough. He really wasn’t in the mood for any of her theatrics, he just wanted it to be over. She opened her door slightly and flashed her seductive smile before revealing herself in her new form-fitting red lingerie. Bucky rolled his eyes and groaned. Why couldn’t she take the hint? It turned out she didn’t at all. She took his groan as a good sign and wrapped her arms around him.

“Missed you Bucky,” she pouted before she rose on her tiptoes to try and kiss his neck. Bucky immediately pushed her by the arms away from him.

“Stop, Celeste. That’s enough!” he barked at her.

“What the hell, Bucky!” she screamed back at him, indignant.

“We’re over. I already told you, so please just stop with your messages and your calls. You knew this wasn’t gonna last,” That was true. The moment she saw the ring on his finger and still pursued him, he made sure to let her understand that their relationship was never going to get any further from being physical, that was their arrangement.

“What we have is good, Bucky! How could you let this go?” She pleaded, launching herself at him again to change his mind, hoping that he’d remember just how much he loved her body and how she could make him forget.

“Stop!” Bucky said, grabbing her arms again to push her away. He didn’t know what the hell he saw in her now. He always thought they were on the same page, she thrived on the thrill and he needed an escape.

“So what’s your plan now? Go back to your boring wife and play house with your family?” She scoffed while Bucky stiffened, feeling his jaw tic.

“You’re a broken man, Bucky. You need me, I can help you.” She let her fingers trail his chest. Bucky’s eerily calm demeanor disguised the storm he felt brewing inside. He grabbed her hand in a bruising grip, his voice menacingly low as he told her,

“Don’t you dare talk about my family like that. If you want to continue destroying your life, then go ahead, chase another married man for all I care. I am out.” He walked away from her, striding out the door while he felt his blood pump in his veins.

“I hate you, Bucky Barnes!” She screamed from the open doorway.

You and me both, he thought to himself.  You and me both.

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He let out a sigh as he leaned back on the couch and massaged his temples, his dry throat working while the events of the night played on a loop in his head. What a fucking mess I made. His head pounded as shame filled him. He couldn’t go home and face Y/N right away, not while he was drunk and desperate for forgiveness. She didn’t deserve him drunkenly begging his apologies. He was fully planning on begging and groveling however way she wanted him to but not while his mind was muddled with alcohol. What was it she said again? Drinking and evading were what he was good at. It had hurt but she was right. Thankfully, he had just enough sense to crash in his office. He was a mess, but he was willing to do anything, anything to have his wife back and make her happy if she’d let him. He didn’t deserve her, he knew that too, but he was a selfish man. He needed her, she was the only woman he ever loved, the only one who made him feel right. Suddenly, his phone lit up from the coffee table in front of him, his brows furrowing when he saw Y/N and Steve’s missed calls. Dread formed at the pit of his stomach as his blood ran cold making him run as fast as he could out of his office.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Where is she?” Bucky’s voice boomed around the emergency waiting room while he ran straight to Steve. Steve’s jaw muscles clenched as he watched his friend run a hand through his disheveled hair, his skin pale, and his sweat and breath reeking of alcohol.

“Where the hell were you, Bucky?” Steve squared his shoulders, standing up. “Your daughter is sick! And your wife has been looking for you! What the hell has gotten into you lately?” he asked  accusingly, his voice rising. Several heads in the room turned to them but Steve couldn’t care less. His friend was going to have a piece of his mind.

“I know, I know. I fell asleep at my office,” Bucky replied knowing how pathetic he sounded even to his own ears.

“Bullshit! Do you really expect anyone to believe that? God damn it, Bucky! Look at you!” Steve’s nostrils flared, his hands balling into fists at his sides. The normally restrained Steve with his easy smiles gone, in his place was a man on the brink of losing control. He thought of Bucky as a brother but the overwhelming urge to punch him was so strong he was considering it. If they were anywhere but at the hospital for Lizzie, he was sure to have done it already. Lizzie, the sweet little girl he loved as his niece, was sick while her dad looked like he just came from someone else’s bed. Steve had his doubts at first but looking at him now, he was sure.

“How could you do this to your family? You, of all people, should know better than this!” He jammed his index finger into Bucky’s chest making him stumble back but he remained silent and accepted everything his best friend said knowing he deserved it.

“What would’ve happened if I hadn’t answered my phone? Y/N almost drove Lizzie in her state of panic, even though she’d been drinking. Did you know that?” Steve’s gruff voice made Bucky’s eyes flash with alarm before he looked down, gritting his teeth. He could feel Steve crowd in on him, taunting him and he wished he’d just punch him, hurt him. He deserved it. He deserved worse.

“Steve,” Y/N’s quiet, assertive voice interrupted them. She laid her hand on Steve’s back to calm him down, making him step away from Bucky and let go of the huge breath he’d been holding.

“Lizzie’s asleep. She’s feeling better now. The results of the tests shouldn’t take long,” she informed both of them, her eyes avoiding Bucky’s.

“Steve, you should head home. I’m sorry I woke you up, I’m not even sure if this was even an emergency. I think I might’ve just panicked,” she tried to keep her voice light but her smile didn’t reach her eyes, her back remaining rigid.

“Hey, no. You did the right thing,” Steve reassured her, nodding. She gave him a small smile before hugging him.

“Thank you Steve, really. What would we have done without you?” Y/N spoke to his neck. He rubbed his hand along her back, willing her the strength and comfort she needed to face her husband.

“Don’t worry about it. Everything would be fine. Are you sure you want me to go?” He asked her gently.

“You’ve done enough. You should rest. I promise to text you how it goes,” she said encouragingly at him. He nodded at her before turning to look coldly at Bucky. He strode away from them not bothering to say goodbye to him but Bucky reached his hand out, grabbing his arm.

“Thank you Steve, for being here. I mean it.” His voice was raw with sincerity, trying to convey just how grateful he was to have a brother in him. Steve’s jaw tensed before he nodded once and pulled his arm out of Bucky’s grasp, leaving him and Y/N alone together.

“Y/N…” Bucky said as he faced her, guilt and shame written all over his face. She turned to face him finally, her expression blank, as she asked him in a calm and steady voice,

“Do you love her?”

Her resolve not at all betraying the riot inside her mind and heart, ignoring the pain that lodged itself deep in her chest. At last, she had the courage to ask what she wanted to know all long, what kept her awake at night when she thought of him and where he was, what he was doing with her. Did she know him the way she did? Did she run her fingers down his spine the way he liked? Did she kiss that soft spot behind his ear that made him shiver? Did she love him? Did he love her? It seemed all her questions ended and revolved around that. Funny how only three words were all it took to change their lives forever.

Bucky’s breath caught in his chest as he swallowed a lump in his throat. This was it, he thought, she was going to leave him.

“Y/N, please. I wasn’t—”

“Answer the question, Bucky. Stop treating me like I’m stupid. I deserve to know,” she cut him off in her eerily resolved voice, and raised her chin. She looked so brave and so regal and he was so so stupid to have taken her for granted, to have neglected her. He could never forgive himself.

“No, Y/N, no. God, I’m so stupid, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he pleaded frantically as he grabbed her hands in his, only to have her flinch and pull herself away harshly from him as if his touch burned her.

“Y/N please—” he tried again.

“No, no, don’t touch me,” she said, emotion finally seeping into her voice, her eyes brimming with tears that she would not let fall down. Not for him, never for him anymore.

“I don’t love her, Y/N. I love you. You’re the only one, please listen,” he tried again, his voice sounding pathetic to his own ears.

“Stop, Bucky. It doesn’t matter!” She said, her nostrils flaring, eyebrows drawn together. She huffed, regaining her control as she drew in long breaths, and shook her head, “It doesn’t matter,”

Bucky felt his world spin, fear pulsing in his veins as he stood frozen, while his wife told him there was nothing he could say or do that would matter anymore. He had made his choice, he had to lie in it. Still, while his mind understood and knew what she was saying, the heart was a treacherous thing, and his hoped and fought against all odds to have her listen, to get her back.

“Y/N, please. I love you. Let me explain, I’m begging—”

“Bucky, Stop. I can’t,” she shook her head, unable to finish, not knowing what to say as she took several steps back.

“I can’t even look at you right now. I just, I can’t,” she continued to shake her head, her thoughts and feelings stuck in her throat. She was disgusted with him, she couldn’t even stand him. And he just stood there, watching her longingly, his hands clenching at his sides when she started to walk away.

“Y/N wait… I don’t mean… Just, can I stay for Lizzie? Bring you guys home?”

Y/N had never heard him sound so small and unsure. She let out a breath she’d been holding, he was Lizzie’s father after all, no matter how he treated her, that wasn’t ever going to change. She nodded her head, knowing how much it would break her heart to have him still here but she couldn’t just think of herself, she had to think of her daughter, and she’d do anything for her.

“Thank you,” she heard his defeated voice say above the din as she put one step in front of the other, not once daring to look back at him while the sea of chatter and activity in the emergency room droned on, leaving a sorrowful man standing in the middle of the waiting room watching the one thing in his life he did right walk away. Her voice a constant echo in his mind, “It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter,”

Part 6

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A/N: Sorry to have misled you in the ending of Part 4! Hope you enjoyed this one and let me know what you think! 

Tags: @wannabedaphne​ @pinkisokay​ @jgiiy​ @scarletnerd05​ @93generation​ @i-ship-it-ironically​ @ilovesupersoldiers​ @joannie95​ @xapham​ @hazel0clouds​ @foreveralone19588​ @angstytoddd​ @nsfwsebbie​ @thisishowdynastiesareborn​ @learisa​ @bucky-fanfiction​ @guns-and-angels​ @mylife-love-and-other-things​ @iheartsebastianstan​ @tinystudentfirepurse @captainamerica-is-bae​ @cloudyskylines​ @chipilerendi​ @yesfanficsaremylife​ @mcueveryday​ @visiblethirdspace @afterlaughter27​ @mr-robot-x​ @captainchrisstan​ @agusdoti​ @mrsfox79​ @cha-lyn​ @xoxabs88xox​ @rinkashirikitateku @racing-against-the-sunset  @thefridgeismybestie @inactivewhore @doyleme1103 @rynabarnesrogers @remilupin22 @winterboobear11 @marvelousbarnes @groovyhumantrashherring  @sarcastic-and-cool@enchantedcruelsummer @princesskhy @unlikelygalaxygiver @atomicsoulcollecto@fandomsfallnomore @ritzintherabbithole @too-many-lanes @jxtr610

[isnt-it-loverly]

little birdie (5)// five hargreeves

Warnings: very tiny trigger warning for self harm

Summary: When Five lands in the Sparrow Academy, he must convince one of them to help him reset the timeline. 

Word count: 1650ish

Author note: finally done with exams and back to writing! it felt good to write something I wanted to, instead of essays for school. 

part one, part two, part three, part four

Remember when you said The Umbrellas were not that bad, well most of them weren’t. But they were hesitant to welcome you with open arms. Luther stared at you intently, fire and rage seeping from his demeanor. You tried your best to sink into the burlap couch, the fibers itching away at your skin. You had delivered their brother safely, mostly unharmed but at least he was alive.

“Does anyone else think that this is- I don’t know, dangerous? That thing is a killing machine, she could be raiding our minds,” Luther snarled.

“I have to agree with King-Kong, she could be satelliting our location to Dad as we speak,” Diego, you assumed, spoke. 

“That’s not entirely how it works,” you spoke up timidly.

“Oh yeah? Then how come you know everything about Five? Or how about how you tried to kill Klaus? I’m sure you’ve already told your little flock of drones all of our secrets,” Luther yelled. 

“First off,” you started, “I am number five. I’m not the ringmaster, I’m not the leader of the group, and I have the body of a teenager. So let’s assume I hold no power when it comes to my family. I am an object to them. If I was in league with them- believe me, pea brain, you’d be dead.” 

The room fell silent as you raised your voice, and Five gave you an encouraging smirk. He was going to enjoy you putting his egotistical brother in his place. But boy, did his family make your blood boil.

“And another thing, Mr. Age-of-enlightenment, don’t try to use my ability against me. Because I can bet that you will lose every single time. Brain beats brawn, tough guy,” you spat. 

You were in his face now, on your tippy-toes, but still making yourself eye level. You could do it if you wanted to. Take over his mind and make him do unspeakable things, but you decided against it. You needed them to trust you, but more importantly, you needed their help. You took a deep yet shaky breath and backed away from Luther slowly. The anger was suddenly gone and replaced with immense dread. You looked around at your surroundings, they were all staring at you harshly but with fear ever-present on their faces. You knew that all they saw was the beast who stole lives, who knew every secret and thought, the monster who could never be trusted. 

“This was a mistake,” you whispered, tears brimming your eyes. 

“(Y/n), wait,” Five called. You felt him reach out for you but it was too late, you were already out the door. 

You could hear him yelling at his siblings from outside the door. It was strange how much he cared, you’d known him a couple of days- and half of that was fighting with your families. You looked around cautiously, where were you gonna go. You made your way through the old and dusty hallway of the rundown apartment complex. It was a good hiding spot. The other side of town in a secluded and forgotten area, your siblings would never think to look down here. They thought the umbrellas were too egotistical to be smart. The stairwell, you thought, was the only way to rise from rock bottom. You must go up. You run up the stairs as fast as your feet could carry you, hearing the loud boom of your stomps echo off the concrete walls. 

You reached the rooftop in a matter of seconds. The chill of the April air lingered around you. You made your way to the edge, the streets were barren and quiet. There was no one to help you escape from this nightmare you had created. What a mess you had managed to create in less than a week. You peered over the edge trying to find any living being to take over so you could be rid of all these conflicting emotions. 

You were a member of the Sparrow Academy, and yet here you were fraternizing with the enemy. The Umbrellas would never see you as an equal, just as someone who stole their life. Then there was your family, how would you ever come back from this? 

“You really shouldn’t be leaning over the edge like that. You could fall and that would be quite unfortunate for the both of us,” Five’s unempathetic voice pulled you from your thoughts. 

Five carefully grabbed your forearm and pulled you away from the edge. Not that he thought that you’d intentionally hurt yourself, but he was not about to lose someone he cared about. Five thought for a moment, did he care about you? Or were you just an important asset to resetting the timeline? He didn’t have time to sort that out at the moment, he had more important matters to attend to. You looked up at him, the tears made your eyes shine more than they usually did. He didn’t know if it was your power drawing him in or if this was just a moment of weakness. He just couldn’t help himself. He wiped a tear that had managed to escape, though he could tell that you were trying your best to keep them in. 

“They’re a lot, I know, but they’ve been through hell and back. They’re scared. They’ve lost everything, and they see you as Number Five not as (Y/n). A replacement for us. You’re better and far more powerful than any of us,” He explained. 

You liked this version of him. This Five was gentle instead of hostile. You wiped your eyes and nodded, showing him that you understood. 

“I can’t believe I let my temper go, I just- it’s been a hard couple of days. I’ve never disobeyed an order, I’ve always done what my father told me, was always there when Number One needed me. Yet here I am, standing in the presence of my most dreaded enemy,” You explained. 

“I’ve told you, I didn’t ask you to help me,” He remarked coldly. There he was, there was that hardened exterior. There was a silence for a moment before you decided to continue.

“I’ve heard about you my entire life, the boy who could travel between space and time. I used to be afraid of you, how could I possibly compete with someone who could be anywhere they wanted. I used to have nightmares about the day when you and your family would come,” you finished. 

Five cleared his throat with an unreadable expression. You could look into his mind and see what he was thinking, but you did not want to destroy the foundation of trust you had built with him. He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Our father really has a special way of sculpting young minds. When we met him in the sixties, I should’ve been more careful...if I had known that’s why he was taking notes at that dinner- I would’ve watched what we said,” Five said solemnly. 

He blamed himself for all this, how could he not. Not only had he managed to ruin his entire family’s life, but he had managed to drag someone as good as you down with it. He thought for a moment about where you would be in his timeline. Maybe you had learned to control your powers, and you had grown into a young woman. Maybe you had a life, a job, a family, a house mortgage to pay. But yet his stupidity had cost you everything. Now you were just as broken as he was. 

“You’re not stupid,” you spoke up. 

Five gave you a quizzical look, and then it dawned on him. 

“You were in my head,” He responded in a monotone voice.

“I couldn’t help it, you blanked out. I had to make sure I didn’t say anything wrong. More importantly I had to make sure you were okay,” You said reaching for his hand. To your surprise, he didn’t pull away, and for that you were thankful. 

“Why do you care?” He asked sharply. It was meant to hurt you, but you’d faced worse than a moody old man. 

“Because you’re my friend. We are friends, right? I mean, I saved your life...twice. You held me while I bled everywhere,” You said with a small yet hopeful smile. 

Five cautiously looked at your hand holding his. He wouldn’t let anyone else do this, he really shouldn’t let you do it. Something about it felt right, your touch was comforting. It was like a breath of fresh air and if he concentrated really hard it almost brought a sense of normalcy. He could imagine that there was no danger and definitely no world in need of saving. It was you, he concluded, it had to be. Somehow you must have been drawing him in, making him feel this way. He hadn’t felt like this since he first saw Delores. This had to be one of your mind tricks, and yet he didn’t care. The feeling was worth having. 

“Yes, I suppose we are friends,” He confirmed. 

That brought a smile to your face. You both liked the sound of that. Five gave your hand a gentle squeeze and you felt your heart melt. Surely this was not the same Five Hargreeves your father had warned you about. You were sure that there was no way you could ever hate him, you just didn’t have it in you. 

“Come on,” Five spoke up, “We better get inside before my siblings think you murdered me.” 

“You know that I’m not always in your head, or anyone’s for that matter. And I’m not a cell phone tower, I can’t satellite your location,” you explained. 

Five gave you a small chuckle, “I know.” 

With that he lead you back into the warm and safe, yet slightly smelly, hallway. Having Five by your side made you feel safe and you knew with him there- you could face anything. 

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Oblivious

Characters: Spencer Reid x Reader, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan

Word Count: 1,464

Warnings: just fluff, drunk!reader, caring!spencer

Request by anon: Cinco de Mayo challenge request is Reid and Reader have margaritas after work.

Summary: You and Spencer go get drinks after work on Cinco De Mayo.

Squares Filled: fireman carry for @fluffbingo // opposites attract for @cmbingo

Author’s Note: Pretend that Cinco De Mayo fell on a Friday this year instead of a Tuesday. If you have any requests, please send them in! this is unbeta’d and every mistake is all on me.

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

“So, who’s ready to party?” you ask as soon as you step foot into the office.

It’s been a long and grueling case, so the best thing for you and your mental health is to head to the bar and have a few drinks to unwind. The rest of the team groans in response, but you just chuckle and head straight to your desk.

“Sorry, guys, but Will and the boys need me. The kids have been sick all week, so I’m going to see if I can’t take over for the weekend,” JJ explains as she heads to her office.

“Send my love!” you call out.

“All I can think about is my bed, sweet cheeks,” Penelope apologizes.

The rest of the group rejects going out with you to a bar, and your spirit died down just a little. You don’t want to go alone, but you do need this outlet right now. The only person who hasn’t said anything is Spencer, and you look at him to see him staring at you. You quickly look away with a shake of your head.

“That’s fine. I’ll just go home then,” you chuckle, but it’s hollow.

“I’ll join you,” Spencer blurts out, and a few heads turn his way.

“You will?” you ask, your eyes lighting up just a bit.

“Yeah, it will be fun. Just let me get my stuff.”

“You’re whipped,” Derek whispers as he passes by the young doctor.

“Shut up,” Spencer mumbles back.

Everyone knows how big of a crush Spencer has on you. When he first started out in the BAU, he was so naive and oblivious. Everything went over his head, when girls made passes at him, he wouldn’t think anything of it until someone explicitly told him that they were flirting with him. Even then, he’d still deny it as something that isn’t true.

You’re like that but much worse.

You can’t tell the difference between someone flirting with you and someone being nice to you. There were boys in the past that have come up and flirt with you, but you never pursued them because you thought they were just being nice and friendly. Because of this, you haven’t really had many boyfriends. The only boyfriend you had was because your best friend practically threw you onto him and told you he was into you.

Spencer isn’t good with the emotions and the words as much as Derek or Penelope is, so he doesn’t know how to tell you how much he loves you. The whole team has a bet going to see when you two are going to get together as well as another bet as to how it’s going to happen. Will you finally confess your hidden feelings for him, or is Spencer going to man up and do it himself?

“Spencer, happy hour is almost over. It’s Cinco De Mayo, we have to get the good drinks!” you say to him once you sling your purse over your shoulder.

“Alright, I’m coming,” he chuckles and approaches you just as he throws the strap to his satchel over his neck and shoulder.

“See you guys on Monday!” you exclaim to everyone before leaving with Spencer.

Luckily, the bar you want to go to is a couple of blocks across the street from yours and Spencer’s apartment complex. You two met when you practically fell down the stairs in your apartment complex trying to move in. He caught you, and you invited him over for lunch to thank him. When you showed up at work the following Monday and say him, it was like it was meant to be.

The bar is alive with chatter and buzz from the excited patrons from having drinks after work. TVs are playing baseball, hockey, and basketball games that people are just living for. There shouldn’t be any bar space since it’s a Friday night, but you manage to snag two of them by the bar counter.

“Two margaritas please,” you state to the bartender who came over to tend to the new customers.

“And one beer please,” Spencer says before he can walk away.

“Not a fan of margaritas?” you chuckle.

“Not a fan of tequila in general,” Spencer smiles.

“It’s happy hour! And because it’s a holiday, it’s 50 cent drinks! Hell yeah!” you laugh.

The bartender comes back with your drinks, and you don’t waste time downing the margarita even though it’s freezing your throat.

“So this is going to be a long night, right?”

“Good thing we walked because I plan to get fucked up tonight! What are you doing this weekend?”

“I plan to go to the local bookstore and get new books. I have a deal with the owner that if I bring my old books, they’ll exchange it for ones I want. I’m thinking of getting twenty-five new books to read.”

“Fuck, Reid, your brain is amazing. To read that fast is a gift. You’re amazing,” you laugh.

“You’re drunk,” he dismisses.

“Spencer, it takes a lot to get me drunk. Trust me, you don’t want to see that,” you snort and finish your margarita.

The bartender keeps your tab open, putting all of your drinks on it along with Spencer’s. It’s best if they don’t bother you until the end of the night. By the time Spencer gets through his second beer, you’re already on your fifth margarita. He should stop you, but he knows you’ll be safe with him. He wants to stay sober so he can make sure you’re not going to fall when you walk or flash anybody on your way to the bathroom.

“Oh, Spencer I love this song! Dance with me!” you grin and get up from your spot at the bar.

“Go without me. I’ll watch,” he says politely.

You’re only going without him because you really want to dance. Alcohol makes you dance. The more you drink, the crazier you get with your dancing. Spencer watches as you move your body with the other customers, and he smiles at how much fun you’re having. You’ve always been a free-spirited person, and this proves it. Everyone else disappears, and you’re the only one in the crowd.

A few songs pass before you need to take a break, and you head back over to Spencer who saved your seat the entire time.

“You should have danced with me,” you laugh. “I would not have resisted that body.”

“Okay now you’re drunk,” he laughs. “Do you think you’ll be okay if I go to the bathroom? Can you handle being by yourself?”

“Yes, Doctor, I’m not a child,” you pout.

“Behave.”

“Is that an order?” you smirk.

“Yes.”

“Kinky,” you tease as he gets up and walks away.

Spencer wants to pee as fast as he can so he can get back to you. While he knows you’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, you’re not the most careful person when you’re drunk. He finishes up in the bathroom as quickly as he can before booking it out of there and heading back to the bar.

He hears you before he sees you, and he knows you’re doing something crazy. When he rounds the corner, you’re on top of the bar dancing your ass off. Your shirt is unbuttoned so that you’re only showing your bra-covered chest. The men around you whistle and holler, and that makes Spencer’s blood boil. It’s time to go now.

“Spencer! Hi!” you giggle.

“Okay we’re done here,” he says and takes out a wad of cash. He hands it to the bartender and motions to you. “Keep the change. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah,” he nods and pockets the money.

“Come on, we’re leaving,” Spencer says to you.

“I want to stay!” you shout.

“No, we’re leaving now. Get down or I’m going to make you.”

“Oh, you’re going to make me? I’d like to see you--whoa! Spencer!” you laugh.

He grabs your legs and throws you over his shoulder fireman style. The men boo him for taking away their entertainment, but he doesn’t care about them. Spencer’s ass is right in front of your face, and you lean forward to nip it a bit.

“Y/N, what the hell are you doing?”

“What? You have a delicious ass,” you laugh.

Your apartment is not that far, so he’s not worried about getting tired or anything. You’re definitely not going to remember this, but it’s seared into Spencer’s brain for all of eternity. He doesn’t know what this means for you two, but he has to man up and tell you how he feels. He wants to be there for you, and he can’t do that if he doesn’t let you into his life the way you let him into yours.

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[theexistentiallyqueer]

It’s been a while, what with me being being more active on Twitter these days, but I had some thoughts churning around in my brain and this felt like a better place to post them rather than threading them over there.

This is a post about Persona 5 and restorative justice. Before I go any further, though, a note: this is meta about restorative justice and prison abolition as ethical philosophies only, how it can be expressed/structured in works of fiction, i.e., Persona 5 and Persona 5 Royal, and what the importance of doing so is.

I should also note that I am not a philosopher, a legal scholar, or an activist, I just like to read, and I strongly encourage you to look into the topics I’m discussing in this essay. If you want specific recommendations you can DM me; again, this being meta about a video game, I think linking those titles here would diminish their importance regarding what they’re actually about.

Ready? Okay. Let’s get started.

what is restorative justice?

‘Restorative justice’ is a concept in ethical and legal philosophy that holds itself in contrast to two other kinds of justice: punitive and carceral. Punitive justice is justice as punishment, i.e., an eye for an eye, while carceral justice involves justice as the confinement of criminal offenders. While both have heavy overlaps with one another, they’re distinct in the generality vs the specificity of their outcome: punitive justice can involve the death penalty, property seizure, permanent loss of rights, etc., carceral justice refers strictly just to the incarceration of criminal offenders in institutional facilities (jails, prisons, etc.).

Restorative justice, in contrast, roots itself in the understanding of closing a circle: the best and most holistic way to heal harm one person inflicts on another is to have the person who inflicted the harm make reparations to the person they hurt in a tangible and meaningful way. This can take many forms, and if you’re passingly familiar with restorative justice already, you may have heard about it involving the offender and the victim meeting face-to-face. This does happen sometimes. Personal acknowledgement of the harm you’ve inflicted on someone is important, and direct apologies are important, but these need to also be coupled with actions. The person behind a drunk hit-and-run of a parent could help put their orphaned child through school, or a domestic abuser could be made to take counseling and go on to help deter domestic violence in other households, and so on. 

The vast majority of states across the world use punitive/carceral models, though small-scale community trials of restorative justice have been attempted, to varying degrees of success. No one is going to argue that it would be easy to implement, but it is important. Restorative justice is about recognizing that crime, specifically crimes against other people, are fundamentally still about two people: the perpetrator and the victim. And we have to look beyond the words perpetrator and victim to recognize that they are both human beings and challenge ourselves to build a society where our concept of justice means healing hurts instead of retaliation.

It’s not easy, but it is possible. It requires changing your own perceptions of justice and humanity and society and the big wide entire world to have the kind of mindset that allows it to be possible. But it is possible, and I know that from personal experience, because it’s my own mindset and I’ve been through trauma too.

prison abolition and the god of control

Persona 5 has an authority problem. By which I mean, Persona 5 has a problem challenging authority in any way that functionally matters.

The game is drenched in heavy-handed prison imagery, from jail cells to wardens to striped jumpsuits to cuffs and chains to an electric chair. Throughout the long build-up of the main storyline we’re treated to a confectionery delight of punitive justice, stick-it-to-the-man justice: the Thieves find a bad guy who coincidentally has personally hurt or is actively hurting one of their members, and they take it upon themselves to make the bad guy miserable and then send him off to jail. By the end of the arc you’re meant to feel like you accomplished something heroic, that by locking someone up you’re balancing the scales of justice. In the Kamoshida arc Ann even frames this in restorative justice terms, telling him he doesn’t deserve the easy way out of ending his own life and needs to live with his mistakes and repent, but he’s still sent off to jail regardless and Ann and Shiho are left to struggle through the trauma he put them through without anyone to really support them. This repeats itself, over and over: Madarame, Kaneshiro, Okumura, Shido--expose the bad guy, bring him low, publicly shame him, and then send him away (or, in Okumura’s case, watch him die on live TV to riotous cheers from the public).

And what does this all accomplish, in the end? You get to the Depths of Mementos on Christmas Eve to find the souls of humanity locked away in apathy, surrendered willingly to the control of the state, and your targets right there with them, thanking you for helping them return to a place where they don’t have to think of other people as people any more than they did before. In prison, they can forget that they are human beings and that all of the rest of the people in the world are too. The Phantom Thieves march upstairs and defeat the Gnostic manifestation of social control, that being that masquerades itself with lies as the true Biblical god. And then you go back home and the adults tell you that everything is okay now, the system itself isn’t rotten, and you just have to sit back, stop actively participating in the world, and let them take the reins.

It’s one of Persona 5′s most ironic conceits. “Prison abolition....good?” the player asks, and Atlus swats you on the hand and says, “Silly kids, prison abolition completely unnecessary because you can trust the state to not fuck up anyone’s lives anymore ever.” All while using prison imagery to present prisons as institutions inherently divorced from what might constitute actual justice.

Prisons exist because hierarchies exist, and so long as hierarchies exist, inequality will exist and people will commit harm who otherwise likely would not. But you can’t have your cake and eat it too, Atlus. You can’t frame prisons as an inherently unjust institution used to control people because you didn’t do anything to get rid of the hierarchy. You just gave the hydra a few new heads.

restorative justice and rehabilitation

Rehabilitation is Persona 5′s favorite buzz word, and for all that it’s used the game never really clearly defines what it’s supposed to mean. Yaldabaoth uses it as a euphemism to describe the process by which he creates his ideal puppet, but Yaldabaoth bad, and by the end of the game, Yaldabaoth dead. We get barely any time with Igor after that for Igor to define rehabilitation properly on his terms, which is notable in that Igor is the one who’s supposed to be the spiritual mentor of the wild card within the Persona universe. 

We can only infer from that that it’s the player who’s meant to define what rehabilitation is by the end of the game, but because the game fails to take any concrete stance on its themes that could in any way undermine the idea that society isn’t functionally broken, it’s hard to figure out what conclusion we’re supposed to draw. As I stated above, the game immediately walks back any insinuations that it’s the institutions themselves that are rotten by having Sae and Sojiro step in and assume responsibility for making the world just by continuing to operate within the rules society itself has created. If you can’t beat them....join them?

If anything the closest we can get to coming up with a definitive understanding of what the game wants us to understand rehabilitation as is when the protagonist is in juvie. During those months we’re treated to an extended cutscene of all of your maxed out confidants taking action to get you out of jail, but because you can trigger this scene even if you haven’t maxed out all of your confidants, and because the outcome (getting out of juvie) is the same even if you haven’t maxed out any besides Sae, then we’re right back where we started.

But that cutscene still has a sliver of meaning to it despite it being largely window-dressing, because the game does push, over and over, the argument that it’s through your bonds with others, through building a community, that you’ll rehabilitate yourself and find true justice.

And that’s what restorative justice is about: community.

the truth: uncovering it vs deciding it

I can’t find enough words to convey how infuriating it is that Atlus comes so close to telling a restorative justice narrative and then completely drops the ball on displaying it at all in Goro’s character arc.

Goro’s concept of justice is fundamentally punitive, the textbook “you hurt me so I’m going to hurt you back.” In doing so he goes on to hurt a whole bunch of other people: orphaning Futaba, orphaning Haru, triggering a mental shutdown in Ohya’s partner Kayo, and also killing countless millions other instances of mental shutdowns, psychotic breakdowns, bribery, and scandal that caused people material harm and, in a handful of cases, killed them.

Yes, Shido gave him the gun, but Goro pulled the trigger. And in a restorative justice framework, you don’t bypass that fact: you actively interrogate it.

There’s been a lot of really great meta about what the circumstances of Goro’s life were like, including the Japanese foster care system, the social stigma of bastardy in Japan and the impact it has on an illegitimate child’s outcomes, and the ways in which Shido groomed and manipulated Goro into being the tool of violence he made him into. These things aren’t excuses for what Goro does, however: they’re explanations for it. They are the complex social issues that create a situation where a child feels his best choice, indeed maybe his only choice, is to take the gun being offered to him and use it on other people. If you want to prevent more kids from slipping through cracks into those kinds of situations, you need to understand the social ills that made those cracks appear in the first place and you need to fix them. Otherwise there will always be another kid, and another recruiter, and another bad choice, and another gun. Systemic problems require systemic solutions.

Even so, none of that bypasses the fact that it was Goro’s hand on that gun, that it was Goro who performed the physical action of killing Wakaba’s and Okumura’s shadows, and that, as a result of Goro’s direct actions, Wakaba and Okumura died. You can say Okumura deserved it all you like, but Haru doesn’t deserve to be an orphan. Haru deserved to repair her relationship with her father. Okumura deserved the chance to learn and make direct, material amends to the employees he hurt and the families of those who died on his watch, and they deserved to have him give them a better way to heal.

But this isn’t about the loss of Okumura making amends to his family or his victims: this is about Goro Akechi, and the fact that even in Royal his fraught relationship with Haru and Futaba is never explored, barely even addressed. There’s not even any personal, direct acknowledgement from him of the pain he put them through.

You can say he doesn’t care, and that’s fine that he doesn’t care. And it is. He’s a fictional character, this is a video game, they are anime characters.

But Persona 5 flirts with the idea of restorative justice and never fully explores it, and it’s a weaker game for that.

the thin place, the veil between worlds, the line in the sand

This is the last part, I promise, and I’ll be short and brief here, because the truth is that none of this matters, at least not in the way that you think. Persona 5 is a story. It’s a lie that we buy. It’s all zeroes and ones and electrical signals and optical images on a blank black screen.

But art can be powerful. Art is like magic, the deepest magic, the oldest kind. We human beings are creatures of art and poetry, of images and patterns, of music and words. Good art, really good art, can allow us to explore new ideas and critique our internal assumptions about how the world works.

No, fiction doesn’t affect reality, not the way that you think it does.

But if you’ve gotten this far, I just got you to read an essay on restorative justice and prison abolition in regards to a Japanese role-playing game, and that is something to think about.

How do you define rehabilitation? What kind of justice do you believe in? Is the way you conceive those things really the best way?

And how much more interesting could a story that challenges those concepts be?

[sutverentavuk]

How Small-Business Owners Can Patent a Fantastic Idea

Throughout background, innovative and ingenious ideas have been duplicated or outright taken. Guglielmo Marconi is attributed with inventing the radio, even though it originated from Nikola Tesla. Nowadays it's easy for a business owner to patent an excellent concept.

Robert Fulton took the concept for the boat engine from John Fitch. Lizzie Magie created the parlor game "Monopoly" in 1903, but it was patented by Clarence B. Darrow in the 1930s. Even Apple has been accused of taking concepts from Google, Microsoft, and also Samsung.

Instead of letting an additional celebration run away with your terrific suggestions as well as succeed, you require to safeguard your suggestions from the start. You can also check https://www.ispot.tv/brands/dQR/inventhelp

One of the most popular ways to protect your item is by obtaining a patent. It's now very easy for an entrepreneur to patent a wonderful idea.

What is a patent?

According to the UNITED STATE Patent and Hallmark Office (USPTO);.

" A patent for an invention is the give of a building right to the inventor, provided by the USA Patent as well as Hallmark Workplace. Normally, the regard to a new patent is two decades from the day on which the application for the patent was submitted in the USA or, in special cases, from the day an earlier associated application was filed, based on the repayment of maintenance costs. U.S. patent grants work just within the USA, UNITED STATE territories, and also UNITED STATE possessions. Under certain situations, patent term expansions or modifications may be readily available.".

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Ultimately, a patent is not a hallmark, service mark, or copyright.

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Before you start researching as well as working with attorneys, make certain that a patent is an appropriate choice or the right time, for your service. As Shark Storage tank's Barbara Corcoran discussed in Reddit AMA, entrepreneurs make the mistake of "pissing away cash on licenses as well as PR" as well as not being positive sufficient.

Corcoran suggests to you:

Make the item.

Obtain some sales.

Make the large guys envy you.

Get a patent.

If you have complied with Corcoran's suggestions and you're qualified to make an application for a patent, after that a patent offers you and also your financiers with a sense of security.

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Exactly how to patent a wonderful idea.

If you're positive that your concept drops within the definitions as well as requirements needed to apply for a patent, as well as you've made certain that there are no other previously submitted licenses, then it's time to make an application for your patent.

When requesting a patent you'll be required to reveal the nature of the invention. You will certainly require to offer a comprehensive created summary. You might likewise be required to submit drawings or makes.

Remember that licenses are just provided to a person. Not in the name of a team or a business.

Patent applications go through a standard fee as well as added charges.

A search fee.

An assessment cost.

Problem cost.

These costs differ but expect to pay around $130 for a little entity.

However, a provisionary patent application for a mechanical device, for example, can cost over $2,000. This doesn't include the additional $2000 you'll have to pay if you want to put a "thrill" on this either.

Once again. I would highly urge you to speak to a patent to assist you with finishing the application. You can do a fast Google search for patent lawyers near you or make use of relied on websites like lawyer.com, findlaw.com, as well as even the USPTO website.

If you don't have the cash for legal suggestions, you ought to get in touch with the Inventors Assistance Facility (IAC). This is a team of former Supervisory Patent Inspectors, experienced Key Patent Supervisors, intellectual property specialists, and lawyers that can respond to basic inquiries and help you with filing forms.

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Find out more help by following invethelp:

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Alternative means of safeguarding your suggestions.

Even if your suggestion can be patented, you need to also take into consideration copyrights for any type of initial written web content that you have placed on your business's web site or blog. Assume concerning a hallmark, which a word, expression, sign, and/or layout that recognizes and also distinguishes you from other organizations.

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Making your possession public. "Utilize the right signs in your media and advertising product notifies," claims David Flower, head of Safeguard IP. Patent and layout numbers can be added later on, but you require to stay on-- top of renewals, advises Blossom. "To make certain the ongoing protection of styles, trademarks, and patents, do not forget to pay revival costs. Registered rights will run out if organizations fall short to pay on schedule.".

Documenting every little thing. "Follow up every discussion you have concerning your idea over email," claims Stephen Trick, an expert in licensing and entrepreneurship. "Years ago, I filed a claim against one of the biggest plaything firms worldwide for patent infringement in government court. My proof aided solidify my story.".

Asking people to sign NDAs. If you share your suggestions with anyone else, whether if it's a buddy or worker, ask them to sign a Non-Disclosure Agreement (NDA). It may be unpleasant to ask, yet it will inevitably secure you against burglary.

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Develop an IP culture. "Produce a business-wide IP recognition plan, to guarantee that all staff members understand the relevance of IP and also the problems surrounding it," says Bloom. "Whether you commit a single person within the business to look after the enrollment, protection, and also maximization of IP or you outsource this function to an IP expert.

Submit a patent-pending application. For simply $100, you can file a PPA. This will shield your idea for one year, which provides you time to raise money or confirm your principle.

Utilize the blockchain. Cloud-based systems that utilize blockchain innovation, such as Storj, usage security keys to ensure that nobody can access your data besides you.

[itsclydebitches]

Your meta about the heroes/victims maybe is the reason why a lot of people latched onto the adults of RWBY more than they did the kids. Like team RWBY and JNPR are fun to watch. But there's a weight attached to the sacrifices Ozpin, STRQ, and even Ironwood have made that isn't there for the kids. The kids haven't really sacrificed anything except a personal sense of safety. Or resolved to do anything except defeat the bad guy centuries of heroes haven't managed to yet.

Obviously answering the question “Why do you prefer these characters over others?” is a multi-layered, beyond complicated thing that I’d never want to attach one (1) answer to. But yeah, that could definitely play a part. Related to this, I’d be fascinated to get some hard data on the fandom’s faves + the fans’ ages. Just because, from a purely personal standpoint, I think I would have latched harder onto the RWBYJNR group than I have if I’d gotten into RWBY as a kid or a teen. Just because I knew who I was back then, someone who didn’t appreciate - let alone empathize with - a lot of the complexity in the adult crowd that I really connect with now. Much of what I once would have seen as failures are now things I recognize as pretty unavoidable hardships and conversely much of what I would have found exciting now reads as reckless and childish. I can easily picture a 13 year old Clyde getting pumped over airship theft and looking disdainfully down on Ozpin because yeah, how dare you keep secrets from me! - I mean the characters who I am totally not projecting onto... Now that I’m an adult I find myself, if not outright gravitating towards adult characters (because that isn’t always the case), at least having a much better understanding of where they’re coming from that makes them both compelling and sympathetic. What would I sacrifice to keep the world safe? How would I keep going without any support? If seven teens unexpectedly showed up at my safe house would I have the strength to divulge secrets connected to my personal trauma? Trauma spanning more years than they’ve been alive? How can I burden them with that? What are my responsibilities here, both to the world and to the minors in my care? Etc. etc. These are questions that - removing the fantasy aspects - a 25 year old is more likely to have grappled with than a 17 year old.  

As said, faves are a hugely complicated thing but I’d be interested to know how much of our personal experience generates that investment. The 16 year old might indeed be more primed to see Ruby’s actions as strength whereas a 30 year old is primed to see them as foolish; the 60 year old fully understands that there often aren’t easy answers in life and thus connects with the adults grappling with that, whereas the 10 year old wants to know why these characters haven’t fixed everything like adults are supposed to. The mere concept of a sacrifice requires seeing the RWBY adults as people rather than just removed authority figures, something that I think the writing portrays well (Ozpin sobbing on his knees, Ironwood with his head in his hands) but that the characters continually ignore. They remind me of kids who don’t really get yet that adults have the same emotions and needs that they do and thus react strongly to the adults doing things they’re not “supposed” to do. Like making mistakes. Or crying. Or needing help. Regardless of age, I think those who are invested in the adult crowd get that. It’s a reaction of, “Oh. You’re human. I can connect with that” as opposed to “You’ve failed in your duties. I never had those duties and I’m still trying to help. Therefore that makes me superior to you” which is how the RWBYJNR group has been acting lately. Which may translate to the fandom and, consequently, have an impact on who in RWBY you start paying more attention to. When the 30+ crowd starts sacrificing things and yet still fails to fix the situation, does that generate feelings of understanding or feelings of betrayal? 

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Chapter Two: Wouldn't It Be Nice?

Rated: PG

~ Wouldn't it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn't have to wait so long And wouldn't it be nice to live together In the kind of world where we belong? ~

It was 7:00 AM and the sun was up and out, and so too were the people. True to the fashion of only the grumpiest of bears, the bleary-eyed citizens of Copper Harbor were up and sleepwalking to work, falling asleep at red lights, and glaring into the black depths of their coffee as they tried to find a will to wake up or a reason to keep existing. Or both. Horns blared, children cried, people cursed, and that one guy slammed his head into a pole as he stared at a dude dressed as Batman who was directing traffic. (I don't think he had the authority to do that, but I wasn't going to challenge him.) All and all it was a fairly normal morning. At least in this town.

Like the entire population of Copper Harbor, a grand total of 100 or so permanent residents, I too hated mornings. But not for the same reason everyone else did. Sensory overload is my constant companion, but it's never worse than it is from 7:00 to 9:00 AM. That’s another reason I was staying in Copper Harbor. You could probably fit the town's entire population in the auditorium of the local high school. But even here, I could hardly stand the headache the morning rush gave me. I don't think I could bear living in a big city.

Although this time, things weren't as bad as they normally were because this time, I had a distraction. Engrossed in my conversation with my new friend, I managed to block out some of the noise. I found it rather strange that someone would be willing to keep chatting for so long, it had been hours and hours. I kept waiting for Jack to tell me that he had to go or something, but he never did. When I asked about it, he just said he couldn't sleep. Eventually, I knew it was me who was going to have to end the conversation. I had things to do, and I knew that, but I didn't want to be the one to say goodbye.

"Are you gonna get moving, or are you gonna keep talking to your new boyfriend?" A voice asked from above me. I looked up.

Perched atop a large green dumpster to my left, sat a boy who looked around the age of 18. He had fair skin and auburn hair that was long enough to show off its gorgeous natural curls while not being long enough to be annoying. (I was absolutely jealous of his hair. The guy's locks were heavenly!) He wore a playful smirk on his face and his hazel eyes flashed as they crinkled up at the corners, alight with mischief. He held his face between his hands and tried to flutter his eyelashes in an attempt to mock me. "Do you wuv him, Marty? Do you wuv your wittole Jack? Tell me how much you wuv him!" He teased. I rolled my eyes. I knew this boy well. His name was Isaac, and he was a royal pain in my behind.

"Isaac?" I addressed him, sweetly. Swiveling my head to peer up at him, I smiled the fakest smile I could muster.

"Yes, Marty?" Isaac asked, matching my level of false sincerity.

"Do the world a favor, sweetie, and shut your mouth," I told him. Isaac just grinned at me.

"No!"

I rolled my eyes.

"If I could throw a rock at you right now, I would," I huffed.

"But, alas, you cannot!" Isaac smirked and slid off of the dumpster. He landed on his feet before coming to stand over me. I didn't look up at him.

"One of these days I'm gonna find a way," I muttered.

"You've been saying that for five years and yet you've never made good on that threat. Are you ever going to put your money where your mouth is?" He taunted. I stuck my tongue out at him and he laughed.

Using the wall behind me as support, I pulled myself onto shaking feet. Despite every part of my body screaming for me to stop, I stretched myself out. Now, I looked up at the boy in front of me.

Isaac was just a little under six feet tall and scrawny like a twig. His good looks would have had all the girls chasing him. Isaac looked like most other boys his age in terms of physique. That is, if you excluded the massive gaping wound, red and raw, that decorated most of the right side of his neck.

The wound remained there, frozen, as fresh as the day he received it. It remained as fresh as the day it killed him. His pale, ashen skin and the purple rings surrounding his young, hopeful eyes bore the tell-tale signs of death by blood loss.

Isaac was a ghost.

"Don't you have something, anything, better to do?" I asked, glaring at him.

"Nope!" He replied, popping the 'P'. "But you do! So, tell your boyfriend bye-bye and get going!" I huffed at him but did as I was told.

Sent: 9:19 AM

Sorry, Jack but I have to go now. Thanks for talking to me!

Received: 9:20 AM

Okay, I guess I'll talk to you later. Have a great day and stay safe!

I smiled at Jack's simple kindness and tucked my phone into my back pocket. When I looked up, Isaac was standing there and tapping his foot impatiently.

"Ya done, lovebird?" He sighed dramatically. I gave him a prim little nod.

"I am indeed─" I used my arm to motion to the mouth of the alleyway with a dramatic bow─ "Shall we be off then, my liege?" Isaac grinned and rolled his eyes.

"Forsooth! Onward my fair servant!" He began marching dramatically to the mouth of the alley and continued out onto the sidewalk. I shook my head and followed after him, without the marching. I guess that was one of the advantages of being a ghost, if nobody could see you, you could do any of the weird crap you wanted to do, and nobody would ever stare.

When I caught up to my cadaverous companion, I pulled my phone from my pocket and pretended to be calling someone. That was the only way I could talk to Isaac in front of the public eye without seeming insane. I didn't think I was insane. But if I was, would I really know it?

"Isaac, I swear if you call me 'servant' again, I will kill myself just so I can beat your sorry, spectral rear end into whatever is after the after-life. Savvy?" I threatened. Isaac turned and started walking backwards, passing through several people that I then very-quickly had to dodge. Isaac could be a bit of a butt that way.

"Yes, Sir! I mean, Ma'am!" He exclaimed, sending me a mocking salute. I just groaned.

"Where were you last night anyway?"

"Watching the Lord of the Rings marathon in the theater, Sir! I mean, Ma'am!"

"Remind me, why do I let you hang around again?" I muttered, quieter than before. "Excuse me." I had to shove my way past a rather beefy guy who was smoking and blocking the entrance to the town's minimart. Isaac just walked through him. He waited until I got inside to answer the question that I had intended to be rhetorical.

"Because I'm adorable, cheerful, and useful to your criminal lifestyle. So, what are we stealing today?" I grimaced at his comment.

"First of all, it's not criminal for me to survive. Second, is it really stealing if I have no way to get money? And third, I need a hairbrush, some hair ties and a jacket because this cardigan is definitely not enough," I said through clenched teeth as I smiled and nodded at the teenage girl behind the counter. She was tall, blond, and I would bet 10 bucks that her name was Tiffany. She nodded back and resumed whatever it was she was doing on her phone. Isaac however was not done talking to me and ticked his reactions to my comments off on his fingers.

"One, true. Two, yup. And three, cool, but that last one's gonna be hard."

"Well in that case, I guess you better do your job really well. See, ya on the other side, mate."

Isaac grinned lopsidedly at me and I pretended to hang up the phone.

I walked further into the store and pretended to look at the hair care section. I gave Isaac the signal, scratching the back of my head. Isaac swept his hand along the length of a shelf, knocking all the containers of peanut butter to the floor. The girl behind the counter whipped her head around to look at me with wide eyes. She looked from me to the peanut butter and back to me. Gaping at the good 15 feet of distance between me and the fallen peanut butter.

"What was that?" She asked, apprehensively. I gazed back at her with wide eyes of my own.

"I have no idea. They just fell off. All by themselves!" I lied. Isaac snickered. The cashier raked a hand through her hair and hopped over the counter to pick up the fallen peanut butter.

While she was paying attention that, I scooped up some hair ties and tucked them into the hidden pocket I had sewed into the inside of my cardigan. Snatching up a brush, I stuffed it into one of my too-big, black, knee-high boots I wear specifically for this purpose. Then, I moved to help the girl with the peanut butter situation. I ducked down and grasped one of the jars that had rolled underneath the shelving unit and handed it to her with a smile. She then put it back on the shelf.

"Thanks for your help, sweetie!" She said, talking down to me. I struggled to hold my smile. I didn't like being talked down to. I don't care what I look like. Even taking that thing into account, she wasn't that much older than me!

"It's no problem, miss!" I raised the pitch of my voice to sound more chipper and innocent, adding in the 'miss' part to feed into her clear superiority complex. I then moved over to the section that held a bunch of jackets and coats hanging from hooks attached to the walls. I waved Isaac over to me with a quick movement of my head that most others would mistake for me flipping my hair. Isaac meandered his way through a few shelving racks and over to me. I pulled out my phone and started typing, letting Isaac read over my shoulder.

Big distraction this time. Make it mean. She called me 'sweetie'.

Isaac nodded.

"Aye, aye! ... Sweetie."

I shot him a scowl and went back to perusing the jackets.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Isaac push against one of the free-standing shelving units. It teetered and groaned before toppling to the linoleum floor with an ear-splitting bang. The head if the cashier girl shot up and she gasped before letting out a rather un-lady like stream of cuss words. Sprinting over to the fallen shelf, she desperately tried to get it back upright.

I took my chance.

I seized a fluffy black coat from one of the racks and booked my butt out of the mini-mart. The girl looked up as I pushed my way out the door.

"Hey! Stop! THEF! THEF!" She shrieked. I grinned and dashed down the sidewalk. When I reached the end of the street, I looked back and saw that cashier chasing me. I decided to show off a little. Scampering down a back alley, I boosted onto a convenient dumpster and sprung upward. The distance from the top of the dumpster to the first wrung of the ladder that led to the rooftop, was an impossible height for any normal person to jump.

My hands latched onto the freezing second wrung.

The cashier stumbled into the alleyway, gasping when she saw me hanging from the ladder. Like I said, it should have been an impossible distance to jump. I smirked at her disbelief and giggled, flicking my wrist in a wave before clambering up the ladder and to the top of the roof.

Sprinting across the roof top, I skipped to the edge and bounded over. I closed my eyes and pushed off with all my might. The wind rushed through my hair and past my face and then...

My feet crunched onto the gravel as I landed on the next rooftop.

The rooftop that had previously been twenty feet away.

An impossible distance for any normal person. Key-word normal. But that was just it. I wasn't normal.

I heard someone cheer from across the street and I looked up. Dan the Dope Man, our little town's resident dealer, was shaking his fist, hooting and hollering. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted to me.

"You go, Marty! Woo hoo!" He applauded me. I waved at him as I rushed to this roof's end. Reaching the edge, I did a parkour flip and touched down firmly on the next one.

The cashier girl was determined, I had to give her that. She chased me from the ground for about three more blocks before she collapsed, exhausted, onto a bench. I kept running along the rooftops, getting the occasional holler of encouragement from some enthused passerby. I leapt one last time onto the roof of Copper Harbor's town hall.

It was one of those really old town hall buildings. Like the ones in the movies. It was made of brick had a clock tower and everything. The whole old-timey shebang. Scaling onto the top of the clock tower, I grasped the spire and leaned outward over my little paradise town.

"GOOD MORNING COPPER HARBOR!" I shouted into the crisp morning breeze.

Even though it wasn't exactly pleasant, I let the few rays of sun light shine on my face as they peaked through the thick, gray winter sky. I could only take a few minutes of the direct sunshine, even as weak as it was, before I had to make my way back down the tower. I missed the days when I could lie in the sun for hours without feeling any sort of sting. Those days were now long past. When I got back to the flat part of the building's roof, Isaac was there, waiting on me.

"That was corny as Hell. You don't live in a frickin' movie." He criticized, smirking at me. I shook my hair out and brushed it back, securing it with one of my freshly nicked hair ties.

"Yeah, I know!" I replied cheerfully, feeling in a much better mood than I had been in earlier that morning. I always felt better after a run.

"One of these days I should push you off that tower just to see your face," Isaac said. I smirked at him.

"Well, if I fall, I might crush this." Reaching into my cardigan's secret pocket I extracted a five-inch Darth Vader figurine. Isaac glared at me, shaking his finger.

"If you so much as scratch Lord Vader, I swear I'll strangle you." Isaac was very protective if that figurine. Probably because his soul was tied to it. Yes, that's right. Isaac's soul was tied to a Darth Vader action figure.

"5 years you've been saying that. Are you ever you gonna put your money where your mouth is?" I jeered, quoting him from earlier that morning. Isaac frowned.

"You're not funny you know," he said.

"What are you talking about? I'm hilarious!" I scoffed with a wave of my hand.

"Let's just go home. We'll do the other thing later," Isaac sighed. I grinned at him and ran to the edge of the roof, gesturing to the snow-covered hills leading away from the town.

"And our hero sauntered off into the snow beside her trusty, albeit annoying, cadaverous compatriot!"

"Shut up."

"No!"

So the two of us left the main town and trudged over hills blanketed with almost a foot of snow. Isaac of course had no problems with the snow, walking easily over it, he made no footprints. When we came to the forest on the edge of the town, I quickly spotted the treehouse nestled between three trees about 20 feet from the start of the woods. We were home.

The tree house was built about 18 feet or so from the ground and the ladder that had once led into it was now long gone. It still laid where it had the day we’d found it, splintered and rotting under a foot of snow. Though we didn't know who had built it, Isaac and I both thanked them every day. Striding over to the thickest of the three trees the tree house was built into, I reached up and snagged the bundle of rope, thick and a little frayed we kept hidden inside a hallow knot in the wood. The other end of the rope was tied to a hook inside the tree house and I used it to climb my way inside.

I dragged the heavy wooden cover over the tree houses entrance hole then stood and surveyed my little home. It was fairly large, about 7 feet high, 20 feet long and 8 feet wide. There were blankets and pillows strewn about a mattress on the floor, a violin in the far-left corner, and a small table with a sketchbook and chess set sitting on it and two chairs set up to play. It wasn't much, but it was home now.

I walked to the shelf that lined the wall on my right and tugged this morning's spoils from their various places on my body, tossing them on the shelf. Carefully fingering Isaac's Darth Vader, I placed it gently next to my beautiful snow globe. A sudden feeling of longing washed over me, and I ached for the life I used to live. The life that I could never have back.

A silent tear slid down my cheek.

"It wasn't your fault, Marty," Isaac reminded me gently, appearing from thin air just behind me.

"I know." I turned back to him. "But that doesn't make it hurt any less."

"I know you wish you could go back and change things. I do too. But we can't, we just have to keep going. You'll find your place in this world, I know it!" He said, trying to be encouraging. I smiled at him weakly.

"Isaac, we're not supposed to be here. Neither of us belong in this world, and I wish we did. There's just no room for us. And I wish there was, that would be nice, but there's not. Not anymore. I'm gonna be stuck right here in this same moment forever. Just like I have been for the last 5 years. Deep down you know that. But at least you can move on."

"I'm not gonna move on until I can take you with me. I'm not gonna break my promise. We're going to heaven together, remember?" He tried. I wiped my tears away with the back of my hand but more just streamed down to take their place.

"Even when I do die eventually, I won't be going to heaven."

"Don't lose hope, Marty. Please?"

"I already lost it, Isaac. I lost it a long time ago. Thinking about it only makes things worse."

***

When Dean Winchester opened his eyes, he found that he was no longer in bed. Which was strange because he distinctly remembered falling asleep in the aforementioned place. He flicked his eyes about to try to determine where exactly he was. After just a few minutes, his foggy and sleep doused brain finally made sense of the information his body was feeding him.

Dean came to the unfortunate conclusion that he had fallen out of bed. Despite how unhappy he was with the results of his deduction; Dean was amazed that he had only woken up quite a while after the minor tragedy and not during the action of falling out of bed.

He must have been very tired.

But that was remedied now, and Dean felt ready to take on anything... In a few minutes. He'd have to get some coffee first. Peeling himself off the floor, he stumbled to the door and into the hall, making his way toward the smell of food wafting from the kitchen.

Now, whatever thoughts Dean had about his coherency when he walked into the kitchen and stuffed a bagel in his mouth, were not shared by the other two people in the room. If they hadn't known any better, Jack and Sam would have thought Dean was a zombie. A zombie who was hungry for bagels instead of a certain cognitive organ.

"Good morning Dean! Did you sleep well?" Jack greeted, chipper as usual. Dean frowned, snatching the entire pot of coffee, and sitting down with it at the table across from Jack.

"Mmmnhhaamuuuvggh."

"Understandable. Enjoy your coffee," Jack replied to whatever it was Dean had been trying to say. Sam raised his eyebrows at his older brother's lack of cognitive function but said nothing. It amazed Sam that he and his brother could be so different.

After a few silent minutes of nursing his coffee, the smallest bit of light began to shine through Dean's eyes. The waking process had begun. Just like the Windows 8 operating system, Dean's waking process was extremely and notoriously slow. But now Sam knew that if he were to begin a conversation with his brother, Dean would at least be able to understand it, if not participate.

"It's 10:45 Dean, just so you know, you slept for twenty-two hours," Sam informed. Dean's eyebrows flinched upward just a fraction of an inch. He clearly was yet to regain control over his facial muscles.

"Mumnnafubnna," He groaned. Jack held back a chuckle for Dean's morning state, he knew laughing out loud wouldn't go well for him. Dean wasn't someone you wanted to laugh at because Dean knew how to get revenge. A prank war was not something you wanted to entice Dean into. He would always win.

"Oh, and uh, Cas is back," Sam said. Dean looked up.

"Hm?"

"Woah, there. Careful Dean, that was almost a word!" Sam teased. Dean swallowed a piece of bagel he'd been gnawing on.

"Where?" He croaked out. Sam was about to answer but never got the chance.

"I'm right behind you, Dean." Dean jumped and spat some bagel out onto the table. Whipping his head around he glared at Cas. Jack couldn't help but snicker.

"Mmhn. Nah. Funny. Cas," Dean managed to grid out of his morning stupor. Castiel only shrugged and sat down at the table beside Dean.

"So, uh, Cas, how'd that thing go with the twenty bucks or whatever it was?" Sam asked their resident angel. Castiel frowned.

"The twenty tailed buck," He corrected.

"Yeah, that." Castiel sighed.

"No luck."

"Sorry to hear that." Cas nodded and shrugged again. Jack patted his arm.

"I'm sure you'll have better luck next time!" Jack encouraged.

"Next time is in seven hundred and eighty-two years," Cas sighed.

"Who's counting!" Jack tried to joke. Cas didn't laugh. Sometimes it could be very hard talking to Castiel.

"But I did find us a lead," The angel said, leaning forward and placing his hands on the table. The rest at the table looked up. "A very interesting one."

"Spill," Dean commanded, grumbling. Cas glanced at the bagel-eating zombie on his left and briefly wondered how Dean Winchester could be one of the best hunters in the world.

"There appears to be some extremely powerful ghost activity going on in northern Michigan. I was passing by a store and saw it on the news," Castiel told them, nodding seriously.

"You saw it on the news?" Sam asked, skeptical.

"Yes. The anchor woman said the video recording was 'going viral' or something like that," Cas answered, making air quotes with his fingers.

"Huh."

Sam pulled out his lap-top and began typing away. Jack briefly wondered how it was that Sam's laptop was always nearby when he needed it, but he quickly decided that he didn't want to dwell on that question and went back to his cereal.

"Cas, do you know where in Michigan this was?" Sam asked, looking up. Castiel nodded.

"Yes, I believe it was a Bronze Port- wait no. It was-"

"Was it Copper Harbor?"

Cas blinked before nodding again.

"Yes, I think that was it."

"Well, I think I found the video." Sam turned the laptop around for the rest to see.

Displayed on the screen was a video of the security footage of a minimart. Though it wasn't very mini for a mart. The footage was taken in black and white and although it was somewhat grainy, it was still clear enough to see the subjects. A young woman walked into the store, talking to someone on her phone. She nodded at the cashier and went to look for something in the hair care isle. Everything seemed normal, before a shelf full of peanut butter flew off the rack and crashed to the floor. Like someone had dragged their hand along the shelf and knocked everything off. But the young woman had been the only one in the store and she hadn't been anywhere near the peanut butter.

"Hey! Did you see that?" Jack exclaimed.

"What? See what?" Sam asked pausing the video.

"That woman stole something right when the peanut butter when flying. Watch it again!"

Sure enough, Jack was right. The woman had snatched some hair ties and a brush, stuffing them in a pocket and her boot, the second after the peanut butter tumbled to the floor. The four hunters kept watching. The girl who had stolen the brush and hair ties walked over to the cashier, who was picking up the fallen peanut butter. The camera never caught a glimpse of the thief's face as she ducked down and picked up one of the peanut butter jars and handed it to the cashier. Then the thief walked over to look at the jackets. She whipped out her phone and started typing something.

"What is she doing?" Castiel wondered aloud.

On the screen, the woman flipped her hair and leaned her phone outward, as if showing it to someone looking over her shoulder. But of course, there was nobody there. Then the woman tucked her phone away and went back to looking at the jackets hanging on the wall.

"Look, look, look! Right there! Did you see that?" Jack hastily pointed at a spot on the screen.

"I didn't see anything," Sam said, shaking his head.

"Rewind it and slow it down."

Sam did as Jack said. Rewinding a few seconds.

The thief on the screen went back to examining the jackets again. Jack pointed to that same spot as last time.

"Right there!"

This time Sam, Cas and Dean all saw what Jack was talking about. A face flickered into view by one of the shelves. Then, for a split second an entire ghostly form could be seen making a rude gesture at the camera, just before that shelf crashed to the floor. The thief grabbed a jacket off the rack and dashed out of the mini-mart just slightly faster than humanly possible. But the Winchesters and their two angelic companions didn't notice that part. They were too focused on the ghost. Sam sat back in his chair.

"Looks, legit. Should we check it out?"

"Yes." Jack and Cas said at the same time.

"No," Said Dean. The rest of the merry troop looked at him. "It looks legit. Doesn't mean it is." He shrugged, finishing the rest of his coffee.

"We've done more on less," Sam argued. "Besides," He continued scrolling on the laptop, "from what it says here, this isn't the only case in Copper Harbor. Crap like this has happened all over the town! Crazy, unexplainable disturbances followed by missing items. Reports go back for the last five years!"

"So that thief is using a ghost to help her steal stuff?" Jack asked, clearly exited.

"Yeah, and not just material items. Most of these reports come from the local hospital. She's stealing blood." Sam looked up at Dean who nodded.

"Sounds good enough for me."

***

"And that's checkmate, again!" Isaac shouted triumphantly. I moaned and slammed my head against the table.

"How?! How are you so good at chess?!" I shouted, my frustration at being beaten for the eighth time in a row was reaching critical mass.

"I have two words for you," Isaac smirked, counting the words off on his fingers, "Chess. Club."

"Uuuuggghhhaaa!!!"

"Wanna rematch?" I snapped my head to look back up at him.

"No!" I hurriedly shoved the chess pieces out of the way and brought out the checkers. "We're doing checkers! Lets see who's king now!" Isaac just shrugged.

"More humiliation for you, I guess."

"We'll see about that, pretty boy!"

"Mommy, mommy! She called me pretty!"

"I didn't mean it."

"I know."

"You're dead so it doesn't count."

"Well, that's just hurtful," Isaac pouted.

I smirked and pulled out my phone. Scrolling through the news and memes as I waited for Isaac to take his turn. He was always slow at checkers. As I scrolled passed a rather painful dad joke, I saw something that first caught my eye and then made my blood run cold.

"Your turn!" Isaac said. I didn't reply. I couldn't.

"Honestly, I don't know what makes you think you can beat me."

I tried to speak up.

"Isaac?"

He wasn't paying attention.

"I mean when have you ever beaten me?"

"Isaac."

"And don't say that one time with the ping-pong because we both know that doesn't count!"

"ISAAC!"

Now he looked up.

"What?"

I swallowed.

"You know how you said you always wanted to be famous?" I asked him weakly. I felt sick.

"No, no! I never said I wanted to be famous. I said I wanted to be a meme. There's a difference," Isaac said, smiling.

"Isaac?"

"Yeah, that’s my name. Why do you sound like you're gonna barf?" I turned my phone to let him see what was displayed on my screen and apparently millions of others. The footage of me and Isaac in the mini-mart.

"I think we just hit the prime time..." I said. Isaac looked up at me, if his pale, dead face could have gotten paler, I'm sure it would.

"Well, crap."

~ Wouldn't it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn't have to wait so long And wouldn't it be nice to live together In the kind of world where we belong?

You know it seems the more we talk about it It only makes it worse to live without it But let's talk about it

Oh, wouldn't it be nice? ~

Lyrics from: Wouldn't It Be Nice by The Beach Boys

[corpsentry]

LAUNCHING MERRILY DOWN THE PATH OF SIN AGAIN

ao3 mirror pairing: atsumu/hinata rating: teens featuring: post-timeskip, side bokuaka, black jackals dynamics, sakusa suffering, author’s weird oral fixation

Hell yeah. Miya Atsumu is in love.

“Shit. I think I cut my gum.”

They’re having dinner together for some reason. Bokuto probably roped them all into it to stave off his boredom, but he offered to pay, so Sakusa went along with it, and because Sakusa went along with it, Hinata went along with it, and because Hinata went along with it, Atsumu went along with it. He suspects Hinata would’ve said yes from the start, but Sakusa started lecturing them on the perils of Korean BBQ restaurants, so Bokuto staved him off too with the cash thing. Sakusa is a practical person. Sometimes.

Anyway, Hinata winces as he says shit I think I cut my gum. Then he smiles like he’s really happy about it and Bokuto’s eyes go all round like volleyballs and he slams his hands on the table. Sakusa tells him not to put his hands on the table. Bokuto ignores him.

“Are you okay?” Bokuto asks.

“Yeah,” Hinata says, making a weird face while he feels around in his mouth with his tongue.

Atsumu tries to think of something intelligent to say and draws a blank. “Let me see,” he says instead. He’s sitting next to Hinata because Sakusa doesn’t trust Bokuto to share a grill with him. Bokuto is sitting next to Sakusa because he can’t share a grill with him but he wants to either try to get to know him better or piss him off. If nothing else he’s definitely succeeded at the latter.

“Huh?” Sakusa stares at Atsumu like he thinks he’s stupid, which he probably is. “The fuck are you trying to see?”

“The, uh,” Atsumu begins, but Hinata opens his mouth for him for some reason and he forgets to finish his sentence.

“I can taste blood on the right side of my mouth,” he offers.

“Uh,” Atsumu says again.

Bokuto stands up and leans over the table because Bokuto is immortal and will not be wounded by the likes of a Korean BBQ grill. “Do you need a flashlight? My phone has a flashlight.”

“Who the fuck doesn’t have a flashlight on their phone,” Sakusa says, staring at Bokuto like he thinks he’s stupid.

“Me,” Hinata offers. Hinata is using an iPhone model from the Stone Age.

“Stop talking and let me look at your gums,” Atsumu says, looking at his teeth. He has made a discovery: Hinata has very nice teeth. This aligns nicely with the other nice things he has noticed about Hinata’s face, like his eyebrows and the softness of his mouth. Hell yeah. Atsumu is in love.

“You’ve been looking at his gums for over a minute, Atsumu. Have you found anything.” Sakusa.

“Yeah,” Atsumu confirms. “There’s a cut.”

“Shit, where?”

“There.”

“Can you show me?”

“Oh, no.” Sakusa pushes his chair away from the table. “Atsumu. Don’t do it.”

Atsumu is really fucking confused. “What am I supposed to not do?” He’s still thinking about Hinata’s face. You have to get really close to someone to look inside their mouth. Close enough to kiss them. Is this what intimacy looks like?

“Are you gonna put your fingers in his mouth?” Bokuto, in a moment of clairvoyance, has caught onto the source of Sakusa’s terror. He sounds proud of himself.

“Are you?” Hinata looks at him innocently.

Atsumu puts his fingers in his mouth.

    ::

    Sakusa Kiyoomi followed Inarizaki’s match against Karasuno in his second year of high school from a livestream on his phone because he wanted to minimize contact with the crowds in the gymnasium as much as possible. The match being an Inarizaki match, had attracted an especially large and diverse crowd of spectators. Nonetheless, they were united by the fact that they were all screaming. At first they were screaming because the Miya brothers were winning. Later they were screaming because the Miya brothers were losing. Then they finished losing, and Kiyoomi scoffed at them behind his mask while he wondered how Miya Atsumu was taking the fact that he had blown his first match at the Spring High.

Later he would recall the way Atsumu had looked at Karasuno’s orange-headed number ten. Kiyoomi, being the calm and logical person he is, would detect the complex twist of fascination and admiration that lay behind the twins’ duplicate of the freak quick. He might even begin to form a coherent thought about Atsumu’s motivation for executing such a shaky attack. This would involve a careful perusal of the few years of friendship between them and an evaluation of Atsumu’s taste in sports, men, and sportsmen. Then someone would cough in his direction from thirteen meters away, and he would get so mad at them he would forget all about it until he met the two of them again as teammates in the MSBY Black Jackals and Atsumu put his fingers in Hinata’s mouth.

    ::

    “Dude you have to tell me why you did that,” Bokuto says. He’s leaning on Atsumu’s shoulder because he’s drunk and it’s a Friday. Bokuto only drinks on Fridays. This is a fact of life. If he could have it his way he would apparently drink on several days but Akaashi the shounen manga editor vows to wipe out seven generations of his family if he does. Therefore he abstains.

Atsumu wishes he would abstain from leaning on his shoulder. “I do?” he wonders aloud. He is drunk as well. Luckily Bokuto is more drunk so Bokuto cannot admonish him. Atsumu holds all the power in this situation.

“Yeah dude you were blushing like crazy.” Drunk Bokuto doesn’t use punctuation. It does not register on his list of things that exist in the universe. One time Atsumu made a bad life decision and crashed at his apartment; that night he overheard Bokuto talking to Akaashi the shounen manga editor on the phone, sounding like a bullet train with a caffeine addiction. Every once in a while Bokuto would fall silent. Then he would make an abrupt sound like a deflating balloon, presumably interrupting whatever Akaashi was saying, and there would be no more silence to be had for the next thirteen minutes. Atsumu felt very sorry for himself all night. He also felt very sorry for Akaashi, but less so since he had chosen to saddle himself permanently with Bokuto unlike the rest of them.

“Dude.” Drunk Bokuto says dude a lot.

“No,” Atsumu says.

They have almost reached the train station. Atsumu can see it blinking in the distance with its glowing signs and other artificial shit and he is so fucking glad for it. He manhandles Bokuto into the station and props him up against a pillar once they reach the platform. Bokuto’s coat is slipping off his shoulders. Atsumu pulls it back up.

“Do you think he was weirded out?” he asks later on the train. The soju he chugged after sticking his fingers in Hinata’s mouth is wearing off and primal fear is starting to set in. Suddenly he finds himself deeply regretting everything he has done since Hinata joined the Black Jackals. Spending so much time practicing that quick attack with him was a mistake. Buying him chocolate as a joke for Valentine’s Day was a mistake. Walking back to the train station alone with him after spending too much time practicing that quick attack, watching the way Hinata had laughed at his dumb jokes as they moved through the neon blur of the city was a mistake. Now he's in love and Sakusa's going to make fun of him. Sakusa has alien-like sensors installed in the back of his head which allow him to notice everything important in life before Atsumu does. Ah, Atsumu’s drowning in regret. He’s going to die.

“Nope,” Bokuto says cheerfully. “Hinata’s a good guy.”

Atsumu broods. “Good guys can be weirded out too, y’know.”

“Nah. He likes you.”

“What are you, psychic?”

“Hell yeah I’m psychic.”

    ::

    Bokuto is not psychic. He’s just a fundamentally nice human being who gets an endorphin kick out of supporting every single person who comes within a hundred-meter-radius of him. Okay, Atsumu wants to say. Okay, so you want to support your teammates and your friends and shit. That’s great. But what if two of those teammates are At Odds with each other. What if you have to pick one.

Atsumu and Hinata are At Odds with each other. On the bright side, they’re both old enough to draw the line between work shit and personal shit so it doesn’t spill over into their professional lives. They are alarmingly civil during practice. The Black Jackals continue to get their ass handed to them by the Adlers. On the dark side, Hinata won’t so much as breathe in his direction off the court, which is pretty fucking miserable.

The best part is Atsumu doesn’t even realize he’s being ignored until Sakusa points it out to him. He’s spent the last week in denial and is actually growing kind of comfortable with this new lifestyle. He doesn’t have to deal with the fact that he has feelings for the guy who pissed him off in his second year of high school; he also doesn’t have to deal with the fact that he stuck his fingers in his mouth last Friday. Maybe Atsumu should just end his friendship with Hinata Shouyou. They can start over as business partners. Make a joint venture.

But of course, Sakusa points it out to him. “I know you think you’re being really fucking slick by ignoring Hinata all the time, but I must sadly inform you that he’s actually ignoring you as well,” he says, examining his nails absently. “Plus I think he’s trying harder at it.”

Sakusa smells like eighty-five different brands of shampoo. “I hate you,” Atsumu says.

“Your hatred means nothing to me,” Sakusa replies, unfazed.

    ::

    The first time he and Hinata played together in an official match, Atsumu remembers thinking that he was glad he let Osamu set up his onigiri shop and pushed ahead with volleyball alone after all.

He figures he’ll always be a little bitter about how his high school volleyball career ended. It’s like how he still hates the everloving shit out of spicy food but has developed a tolerance for it due to his teammates’ dietary preferences. The sensation will never be pleasant, but he gets through it. He drinks a shit ton of water. After their meal he treats himself to dessert from a nearby convenience store and makes someone else pay for it out of spite. Sometimes they agree. Other times he winds up paying for his souffle cheesecake himself. But fuck it, whatever, it’s sweet.

The first time he and Hinata played together in an official match they unleashed their new freak quick in front of Kageyama Tobio and like half of Japan’s previous high school volleyball circuit. At the moment in which the ball he set went up in the air and Hinata made contact with it, Atsumu had the distinct sensation that the rules of the world had been quietly rewritten. It was akin to having a fully-grown deer ram its antlers into your chest, shattering your ribcage instantly. He couldn't hear himself anymore. Just the crowd.

Take that, he said with his eyes after Hinata scored that first sweet, sweet point, smiling at Kageyama like a switchblade. Hinata’s ours now.

Upon closer examination, what Atsumu actually meant to say was: he’s mine.

    ::

    Why didn’t he say that, you ask? Because he’s a fucking idiot, of course. By this point Sakusa had already caught on to his feelings. If you had looked carefully at the background you would have noticed him squinting at Atsumu at various points throughout the match with three percent more intensity than usual. The rest of his attention was reserved for the ball, but he devoted three percent to Atsumu. This is Sakusa we’re talking about. Three percent is significant.

    ::

    There is a boring romantic subplot in one of the manga that Akaashi’s magazine serializes. Unfortunately it’s about a boy and a girl, so it was probably destined to be boring from the start. But the brilliant thing about it is both the girl and the boy realize they have feelings for each other in chapter thirty and then proceed to make zero progress in their relationship for the next two hundred chapters.

“Why don’t they just get together?” he asked Akaashi once. They were having hotpot in Bokuto’s apartment. Because it was Bokuto’s apartment they got Akaashi as a freebie. Akaashi had brought wagyu beef.

“The author doesn’t feel like it.” Akaashi’s glasses kept getting fogged up by the steam. He looked like a character from a detective movie.

“Oh. Is the author single?” asked Atsumu, who was single.

“Yes,” said Akaashi, who was not single.

“Are you hitting on my boyfriend?” Bokuto called from the bathroom. They ignored him.

“Aha,” Atsumu said triumphantly. “I knew it. The author clearly has no experience. It pisses me off that they keep hinting at their feelings without getting to the point.”

“That is fair.” Akaashi had decided to take off his glasses at risk of stabbing someone in the face with his chopsticks.

“Alternatively, you could remove the romantic subplot altogether. I doubt much would change.”

Alternatively he could chase Hinata down after practice on the way to the train station. It would be snowing, because snow is pretty and makes everything look soft and cinematic. Atsumu would call out Hinata’s name as he approached him from two hundred meters away. He would be out of breath because everyone’s constantly out of breath in romantic cinema. Hinata would telepathically know that Atsumu was here to confess his undying love for him and hide his blushing face in his scarf.

Alternatively, they could have dinner together at a stuffy candle-lit restaurant. Only this isn’t a manga, and Akaashi isn’t the editor, so Hinata is still practicing serves in the gym when Atsumu appears in the doorway, still reeling at the realization that he’s been ignored for a week.

Well then. He scrolls through Instagram to pass the time.

    ::

      When he’s done, Atsumu offers to help Hinata with clean-up. “Thank you,” says Hinata rather reluctantly, still not breathing in his direction.

“You know,” Atsumu says, feeling very tired. He’s too tired to beat around the bush. He has decided to eat the bush. “I can tell you’re ignoring me.”

Hinata creates distance under the guise of picking up loose balls. “Mm.”

“Why?”

Hinata squats down in front of a ball. Atsumu walks over and squats down beside him. The ceiling lights are fierce and bright above them, and Hinata’s face is tilted away from it. Atsumu can’t read his expression but he can see his ears, which are pink, and the side of his neck, which is pink as well. In this position, from this angle, Hinata’s musculature is even more stunning than usual; biceps, shoulders, back. This shouldn’t be a surprise given that they’re all adults now instead of petty high school kids with grudges as big as clenched fists. But if asked right now what the prototypical volleyball player should look like, Atsumu would point at Hinata and say: that guy.

“Sorry about sticking my fingers in your mouth,” he says quietly, folding his arms together over his knees and resting his chin on top. And then, in a flash of inspiration: “Also, I’m in love with you. I hope your cut healed properly?”

Hinata finally lifts his face up into the light, and Atsumu is reminded of watching the rising sun spill across the surface of the sea in a NatGeo documentary. For a second he looks absolutely lost. Then he knits his brow, stares hard at Atsumu like he’s trying to do calculus in his head or something.

“About the cut,” he says, hesitating. “Why don’t you find out for yourself.”

Atsumu chokes.

    ::

    It’s not like he hasn’t been in love before. In high school he had a crush on Kita Shinsuke that was so debilitatingly bad, he never even told Osamu about it. But Kita Shinsuke didn’t have a debilitating crush on him and he never went pro. They didn’t wind up as teammates again several years later when Atsumu finally figured out how to style his hair properly with gel. Kita vanished off the radar after high school with that unnerving smile of his. They haven’t seen each other since.

Anyway, Atsumu has a lot of complicated feelings for Hinata. At first he was pissed at him for teleporting off to Brazil for two years, and thinking that he could still brute force his way into a Division One team immediately upon his return. Then Hinata actually did that, and Atsumu spent several weeks sulking about their new teammate by refusing to so much as breathe in his direction. Eventually Sakusa sat him down in the empty locker room one morning and looked him straight in the eye from two meters away and said you want to set for him don’t you. After thinking about it for a while he realized that Sakusa was right. He wanted to set for Hinata Shouyou. Back in high school the feeling had arisen mainly out of spite and childish frustration. Now it was genuine.

So fine, maybe he likes Hinata a little more than he should.

They’re not high schoolers anymore. They’re old enough to know where to draw the lines between work shit and personal shit and risk-taking and stupidity. They’re supposed to know themselves better by this point. Like what’s your favorite alcoholic drink. What’s your taste in men and sports and sportsmen. Do you believe in miracles.

Do you believe in—?

“—This,” Hinata says. Atsumu realizes belatedly that he had missed the first part of his sentence but before he can try to figure it out Hinata fists a hand in his shirt and yanks him forward.

Oh no, Atsumu thinks. Hinata’s smiling. All crooked like a semicircle of sun. All pretty-like.

“Since that’s out of the way,” he says brilliantly, warm breath fanning out over Atsumu’s cheeks, moving closer still. “I hope you don’t mind if I just—”

Atsumu closes his eyes and lets Hinata pull him in. He’s old enough to know where this leads.

    ::

    They’re having dinner together again for some reason. Bokuto roped them all into it to stave off his boredom because Akaashi the shounen manga editor is in Hokkaido on a business trip, but he offered to pay, so Sakusa went along with it, and Sakusa went along with it, so Atsumu went along with it, and Atsumu went along with it, so Hinata went along with it. The truth is they almost always go along with Bokuto’s whims because Bokuto’s a fundamentally nice human being and Akaashi brings the fanciest ingredients to their hotpot parties. It doesn’t actually matter if Bokuto offers to pay. Someone will start the reluctant-yes-train and then the rest will join in and before they know it, they’re all ducking into the doorway of a restaurant together.

“So was anyone gonna tell me that two of my teammates are dating,” Bokuto says, waving his chopsticks around grandly while Sakusa attempts to shield his risotto from the onslaught of loose rice grains. “Or was I just supposed to find out from Omi-kun here?”

Hinata’s eyes go wide. Atsumu, who had been chewing on a fry, doubles over coughing.

“ATSUMU. ARE YOU OKAY.” Bokuto’s feet are on the table. Sakusa is seeing God.

“Shit.” Atsumu winces, feeling around in his mouth with his tongue. “I think I cut my gum.”

“Let me see.”

“Uh, Hinata, you don’t have to do that, actually—”

“Are you going to do that thing again?” God bless Bokuto and his endless store of curiosity towards all things chaotic and doomed in the world. God bless Sakusa who has ascended to the next dimension. God bless Atsumu's poor gums.

Hinata beams at Bokuto. “No,” he says slowly, bright as a bonfire. “I’m going to kiss him.”

God bless them all.

[lonestarbabe]

Another wild card- if you could write up a backstory for the characters of lone star, what would they be? I’m talking for Grace, Carlos, Judd, Mateo, Marjan, Paul because we know bits and pieces of their lives but really not much at all. Judd’s has kind of been teased from the crossover episode so that I guess is kind of canon. I feel like Carlos was a quiet kid and teen who got okay grades and was nice to everyone. Wasn’t an outcast but wasn’t the popular guy. Then he came out he felt more confident but also acted in a way to protect himself from getting hurt- hooked up and focused on his job as a cop- (remember the line ‘it doesn’t always get weird, Michelle’- and Michelle gave him a look like she didn’t believe him. I feel like that needs to be explored. Is his relationship with TK his first real relationship? I would say yes but I just wanna know more about him) - anyway Marjan would be interesting too because she seems so confident and said she hates bad leadership and stuff like that from the moment we saw her- aside from wanting to help people, I would love to see a backstory that explores the real reason why she loves to be so daring- is it like Buck’s case where she just wants to get her parents attention and acts like that to act on a tragic backstory she never knew about from childhood? Or is she just naturally daring and loves to help people? She doesn’t give off the vibe of having a sad backstory like Buck and Maddie do, but I could be wrong. I’m curious either way

Ohhhh your thoughts are quite interesting. I definitely can see a lot of what you’re saying because it would show an interesting evolution to who the characters are today. There are some headcanons I have but they’re not necessarily right lol just based on the impressions I get.

Carlos: I think Carlos was always the kid who wanted to be perfect for his parents. He kept things to himself to spare his parents, and he always got good grades and stayed out of trouble. He was probably close to his parents, very loyal and obedient, but as he started to realize his sexuality, he started to pull away. I don’t think he acted out, but I do think that he had a lot of internal tumult. He probably tends to want to avoid conflict when he can and puts pressure on himself to everything right.

Grace: From what we’ve seen, I think Grace probably idealized her father and was a daddy’s girl. I think her dad doted on her, and her mom was probably always someone that Grace could confide in. I think there were underlying issues but for the most part, she had a happy and secure childhood. I think her parents raised her to be responsible for her actions, and they also were there to guide her but they gave her space to work through her mistakes herself.

Marjan: I feel like Marjan maybe had some kind of limitations and people (not her family) told her that she couldn’t do certain things because of various reasons based on who she was at her core. So, she learned to prove them wrong and to listen to her gut rather than letting other people try to tell her what she should think or how she should act. I think she doesn’t mind authority when that authority does what is right, but she isn’t going to blindly listen to authority. She learned that her moral compass is her best authority, and she uses her religion to help focus herself and understand her greater purpose. I can see that people in her past made her doubt herself, but she learned to challenge those doubts, which made her more confident in herself.

Mateo: I think Mateo always felt stupid as a child and back then he didn’t know about his dyslexia, so he just thought he was too dumb at school. I think people probably mocked him a lot behind his back and he was probably the butt of a lot of jokes. Despite his dyslexia, Mateo always went above and beyond to do good work. He had to work harder to show people how good he was. I think he found solace in comic book characters. A lot of them started off with hardships, but then, they were able to overcome those hardships and save the world, and I think Mateo found that comforting. He also liked the idea of a world where there was a clear distinction between good and evil and in the end, good always won. I also think he had some religious conflict thrown in there somewhere. He believes in God, but there may also be fear and apprehension and doubt in the mix.

Judd: I have this theory that Judd had a third brother who something happened to, and at some point, Judd started acting out, which led to him going to the wilderness camp for troubled kids. His parents had a lot of issues too, which contributed to the angst that Judd felt, so he understands a complex family dynamic all too well, which is part of the reason that it was so hard for him to tell Grace about her dad.

Paul: We shall find more about this one tonight, but his mom seems lovely and supportive, while I very much may need to have some words with his sister. I also have a headcanon that Paul’s observation skilled are influenced by both his high intelligence and his need to be observant. To keep himself safe, he had to learn how to notice things and stay vigilant, so I think he is always good at noticing things, but I also think he can relax his skills a bit when he is in safe places.

[coyotesongwriting]

Home - Ch. 3

Chapter 3 - Fresh Start

Chapter Summary: Bucky’s gone, and so are you. What happens when you find out some big news?

Word Count: 3222

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading this story and I hope you enjoy it. I’ve tried a new writing style for this fic and I can definitely say it’s not my cup of tea but I love the story anyways!

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters so don’t sue me please. I just really like them haha

Previous Chapter              Series Masterlist

May You weren’t sure where you were headed when you left the compound, but you knew you had to go as far as you could. For the next two weeks, you wandered wherever the road took you in the Ford Explorer Fury had gifted you. At first, you traveled down to Florida and spent a few days on the coast. The smell of the fish that seemed to permeate the harbor areas left you feeling ill though, and you decided it was time to move. You slowly made your way along the southern coast, stopping in New Orleans for a few days to take in all the sights you’d always wanted to see. You even did a few of the cheesy ghost tours, a part of you hoping that maybe you would receive a sign from Bucky, but knowing you wouldn’t.

As you drove through Texas, you took the old two-lane roads through the middle of nowhere. On one hot summer day, you were driving when you saw a dog on the side of the road. The large German Shepherd mix was tied to a pole on the side of the road, a piece of paper that said ‘free’ taped to it above his lead. The dog had been tied out in the heat with no water for who knows how long, and without a second thought, you loaded him up into your car. Pouring some water into your hands, you gave him a bit before rushing him to the vet in San Antonio.

According to the vet, if you hadn’t come along when you did, someone would have found a dead dog in the summer sun. The vet scanned him for a microchip and was able to find out his name was Rex. His owner’s information was all outdated though, and when they asked what you wanted to do, you didn’t hesitate to say that he was staying with you. You found a hotel room nearby and stayed for the two days Rex spent at the vet, waiting for him to be given a clean bill of health. Every day, you went to visit him for as long as you could. He was always happy to see you and seemed to know you had saved him from a slow and horrible death. You constantly were texting the Avengers pictures of Rex, and Clint immediately claimed him as his godson.

When the day came that you finally got to pick him, you took him to the pet store where you bought him all the supplies he’d need, a nice collar, bed, leash, food bowls, treats, all of it. That night, Rex climbed onto the bed next to you and fell asleep with his head resting on your stomach. For the first time since losing Bucky, you finally slept through the night.

Back on the road, you drove until you reached Sedona, Arizona. There, you decided, was going to be your first stop. The beauty of the surrounding mountains and cliffs surrounded you, and it was completely unlike the forests and meadows you’d called home in upstate New York. The desert was never going to be the place you’d permanently settle down, but it was the perfect place to spend a few months, to heal before attempting to build a permanent life somewhere with Rex.

You found a small apartment on the outskirts of town with a balcony overlooking the cliffs and made it your own. It didn’t take long before you found a job at one of the diners in town working as a cook. You settled into the different lifestyle quickly and made a new routine, one that was reliable and without danger.

In the mornings, you’d take Rex for a jog on the hiking trail behind the apartments. By the time it started to heat up, you were back at the apartment, and Rex was relaxing. You’d go to the apartment’s gym where you’d do some basic exercises, even if you weren’t an Avenger anymore you wanted to be sure you were in shape just in case something happened. After that, you got ready for your shift and went to cook for the dinner rush.

Every day, you checked in with Nat and Sam, and usually one of the others. Everyone wanted to make sure you were doing alright and to be honest, you were. Things were hard of course, and you missed Bucky, you always would, but you were learning to live a new life. One that wasn’t haunted by the ghost of him. One where you didn’t have to worry every day about whether or not your friends would die in front of you.

June A month after getting settled into Sedona, you received a phone call from Steve. It was a late Tuesday night, and you’d just finished your shift at the diner, and you were walking back to your apartment down the quiet streets when you answered.

“[Y/N], we have to make the announcement” Steve’s voice was soft, careful as he spoke.

The warm night air seemed suddenly suffocating. You’d been so wrapped up in your own guilt that you forgot that to the rest of the world, Bucky was still alive somewhere, doing his job as an Avenger. When he first joined the team, he’d gotten mixed reviews from people on the street. Half the people they ran into feared him, blaming him for what he’d done as the winter soldier. The others seemed to understand and were more than willing to welcome him on as one of Earth’s Defenders. Over the years, he had managed to change the doubter’s minds and it wasn’t long before there was even fan merchandise being sold of him. Unlike Tony, he hadn’t relished the spotlight and tried to stand back whenever he could.

While you and Bucky had been more than happy to come out as a couple to the team, you’d decided to keep your relationship private. Since you always wore a photostatic veil when you were in public as one of the avengers, you didn’t want to make things awkward if someone saw him out with you when you weren’t wearing a disguise. He didn’t need the bad publicity if someone saw him kissing you with and without the veil. Besides, it was nice having something for just you and the team, one part of your life that didn’t belong to the world.

The realization struck you, the moment the world found out about his death? He’d be everywhere. You may have left the Avengers in the hope of avoiding his ghost, which still followed you, but the moment it was announced you’d see his face everywhere. The news coverage that would come was sure to run nonstop for days. There’d be a public funeral service.  Bucky’s death would surround you once again, and this time you’d have no choice but to wait it out.

“[Y/N]?” Steve’s voice drew you out of your thoughts, reminding you of his presence.

“Y-yeah. Can you give me a little bit? A few days. Please. I just need to be ready.”

“Saturday, we have to do it then. People are beginning to ask why they haven’t seen him around lately and we can’t keep hiding this. There’s going to be a lot of questions” he paused before continuing, “People have been asking about you too.”

“Okay. That’s fine, that’ll work” your voice was nervous, trying to reassure yourself it would be alright, “What are you going to tell them about me?”

“You can still come back, you know. We miss you. Even Tony misses you.”

“I know. But I’m not coming back. I can’t. I can’t do that. I can’t watch one of you die again. I can’t do it again.”

“I can’t say if you come back you’ll never be in that position again, but we need you. It’s not the same without both of you…”

“No. I know, I miss you guys, I get it. But I can’t - won’t - go through that again”

“I just worry about you. Bucky wouldn’t want you to do this.”

“Bucky’s dead, Steve. We don’t know what he’d want, but he’d want me to be happy and I can’t stay there and pretend everything’s fine, okay?”

“Come home, [Y/N].” Steve’s voice lost the softness, his stubbornness setting in.

You could feel the frustration in you rising as Steve’s attitude changed. You’d been more touchy lately, but who wouldn’t be after losing the person they were meant to spend the rest of their life with?

“I am home.” you slid your key into the lock of your front door and were greeted by Rex’s wagging tail.

“You know what I mean.” he sighed, frustrated.

“No. No, I don’t. Because the complex isn’t my home, not anymore.”

“[Y/N]-”

“Look. I have to go. I just got in and I’m exhausted. You’re making the announcement on Saturday. I get it.”

“Come home. Please.”

You didn’t answer him, merely hanging up the phone. You set your phone on the small entry table by the door and leaned back against the door behind you. Sliding down, you sat on the floor, back against the door as the tears overwhelmed you again. You were getting better, truly. You could usually get through the day without crying by this point, but sometimes things were just too hard.

Looking back all you could see were the mistakes that were made. The things you could have done to save him. And in your darkest times, when it seemed like dawn would never come, you blamed Steve. If he hadn’t made you wait, you could have gotten to him in time. You could have warned him. You could have gotten him out of there, and you wouldn’t be here today. Blaming Steve wasn’t fair, you knew that, but sometimes it was hard to forget that.

Rex nuzzled his way into your face, and your hands closed around him, pulling him close as you broke. While you may have saved him, he’d more than repaid you since you brought him home. On the days you felt alone, he was always by your side. When you didn’t even want to get out of bed, he was there nudging you and making sure you got things handled. When you broke down at night, he was happy to lay with you and offer you a listening ear.

The night passed slowly, seeming to creep by. You slept in fits, but Rex was there every time you woke up. His calm presence lured you back to sleep every time. In your dreams, Bucky was there by your side again and things were good, things were happy and you got to relive some of your favorite memories.

The next morning, you called your boss, asking for Saturday and Sunday off. You’d been working every night since they hired you on. Not having days off meant you could live in the same routine day in and out, no surprises or confusion. Your manager quickly approved the request, and you began to plan.

Saturday came, and in the early morning hours you packed up your car with some supplies and Rex and set off on the five-hour drive to Apache-Sitgreaves National Forest. The forest there would give you the perfect chance to ride out the worst of the news coverage, give the world a chance to get over the shock while you were away.

You shut off your phone, knowing that if you left it on you’d be too distracted by what’s happening to focus on getting on getting away. The drive was nice, and you kept the music soft, not in the mood for anything loud at the time. On your drive to Sedona after finding Rex, you’d learned he was one of those pups who truly loved car trips. His antics as you drove kept your mind off the reason for the trip.

The towering pines and cool mountain weather enveloped you as pulled into the campground. The campground was all but deserted, only one other camper nearby and for that you were grateful. When you planned the trip, you feared that the campground would be busy and you’d be surrounded by couples and families, unable to get the chance to escape. Instead, you were able to focus on the peace and quiet of the forest.

The weekend passed quickly, too quickly for your liking. You and Rex spent the time hiking throughout the forest. Rex was eager to see it all, his exuberance reminding you that he was only a year old. For that, you were grateful. The idea of losing him, your only anchor left in the world, left your breath stuttering. Watching him bound after a squirrel, stopped by the leash, brought a quick burst of laughter from your lips, and with that, you left fears of losing him behind.

During your hike on Sunday, you stumbled upon a herd of wild horses. When you’d first decided to camp here you’d heard they had wild horses here, but you figured you’d never be lucky enough to see one. They were off in the distance across the meadow from you and didn’t seem bothered by your presence. The band stallion watched you for a moment when you first left the trees but quickly turned his attention back to his family, his mares too busy keeping an eye on their roughhousing foals to worry about you. You watched them with Rex for an hour before the herd moved on.

Monday morning seemed to arrive in the blink of an eye, and the dread you’d managed to put out of your mind all weekend crawled back in. Packing up the car, you kept eyeing the phone in the center console, terrified of what you would see when you inevitably turned it back on. For a long moment, you considered just not. Just leaving the phone behind, taking Rex, and running back into the wilderness.

But you couldn’t. Bucky’s death lay heavy on your shoulders, and you couldn’t face yourself if you had run from what happened. No, you had to face the music. And so, you did. The drive back to Sedona was a much more somber trip than the drive away, and you found your mind constantly wandering back to your phone, to what you’d turn it back on to find.

It wasn’t until you were back at your apartment with Rex napping at your feet, that you turned on your phone. It began to flood with notifications, emails from news organizations, and companies chiming in on his death. Texts from the avengers trying to check in on you grew more worried as the days ticked on. Quickly you shot off a text to them, letting them know you were okay, that you’d taken the weekend to go camping and hadn’t had phone reception. Almost immediately, you got responses from Nat and Sam, telling you they’d been worried. Steve’s response was to yell at you for scaring him. You didn’t text him back.

July It wasn’t until you’d been settled in Sedona for two months that you realized something was wrong. At first, you’d chalked missing your period off to stress, who wouldn’t be stressed after losing someone like that? But after four missed periods, you knew it was time to take a test. After your jog that day, you came home with three different kinds of tests, unsure what you hoped the answer would be. Within 15 minutes, the results were in.

Calling around, you were able to get a doctor’s appointment the next day for an official pregnancy test. Nerves ate at you about the idea of being a single mom, and a big part of you contemplated packing up and going back to the Avengers. If you chose to stay away from the Avengers, you’d be denying your kid the chance to really know their family, and your friends turned family the chance to know their niece or nephew.

The next morning your blood was drawn and within a few hours, they had the official results. You were pregnant. It wasn’t just a batch of faulty tests, it was definite. While the idea of going home to the Avengers, of having that support system,  was a huge draw, you feared that going back would put you back in the same mental place you fled to get out of. With a baby on the way, could you really risk that?

You pulled out your phone, dialing Nat and before she could even say hello, you spoke, “Hey. Can you get everyone together?”

“Yeah, is everything okay?” she asked, before letting out a loud whistle. Clint loved to joke she’d trained them like dogs because they’d always come running when she whistled once.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’d just rather only tell this all once”  you let out a nervous breath as you waited.

Within a few seconds, everyone had gathered on Nat’s line and after a quick round of hellos, you took a deep breath before blurting out, “I’m pregnant. About four and a half months along.”

The silence that came across the line was deafening, and you waited anxiously to hear how they’d react. Steve was the first to speak, “Y-you’re pregnant? With Bucky’s kid?” his voice was unsure.

“Yeah. Went to the doctor today and got it confirmed. I’m due in early January” you bit your lip, pulling it between your teeth nervously.

“Congrats, kid” you could hear the smile in Clint’s voice, and you let out a nervous breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, “I guess I shouldn’t call you kid anymore though, huh?”

“Probably not” you chuckled softly.

“What are you going to do, [Y/N]?” Tony chimed in.

“What am I going to do?” you repeated back curiously, “I’m going to have my kid and raise them up the best I can.”

“Are you sure you’re up for that?” Steve’s voice was quiet.

“Yes I’m sure I’m up to raising my own child, Steve.” your voice was hard.

“That’s not what I meant. I just - I meant you could always come back. You don’t have to do it alone.”

“I know what you meant, Steve. And no, I’m not going to come back because I’m pregnant. If anything, this just tells me I made the right call. I don’t want to raise a kid in that world, always having to wonder if I’m coming home or if they’re going to lose someone they love too.”

“You don’t have to rejoin us, you can just come home, you don’t have to fight.”

“Steve, no. I’m finally doing alright out here. I’ve got Rex, and soon I’ll have my kid, and I’m moving on. I’m not going to just move back to the compound because I’m pregnant. Women do this on their own every year. Look, I just wanted to share my news I wasn’t looking for a fight. I’m going to do what’s right for me and my kid” by the end, your voice was a low growl.

For a long moment, no one spoke. When silence began to echo down the line, you hung up and began to go about your day, hoping to forget their apparent doubt in you and your ability to be a good mom. You didn’t.

Next Chapter -> 

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