#the security is my circus now assholes

[13lizardsinatrenchcoat]

I'm probably one of the only people on the planet who asks for a pat down (legal right in the USA) instead of walking through an airport scanner. I know this because the agents get visibly stressed about it every time. Doing my part to make a pig's day worse 💖👌

[rorywritesjunk]

Let's be one another's present tense

Buggy 'rescues' you from an abusive situation, and after a less than stellar introduction, he has you audition for his crew to keep you safe. You want safety, security, and joining a circus seems like the best idea. Rating: R-ish for now. Warning: First chapter has bruises and talks about abuse (not from Buggy), though Buggy has his explosive moments. There's an asshole much older ex-husband in this story. Swearing. Nose bonks. A/N: This has been sitting in my head as I worked it out for an Anon's request. I have been really intrigued by this and wanted it to be just right. Also, it gave me the chance to ask my circus obsessed friend about different routines and we bounced some ideas off each other. This is also a touch different than other things I've written, which is why I've been taking so long to work on it and get it posted. Enjoy! Title comes from "Crater Lake" by Lady Lamb.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 (NC-17) + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 (NC-17) + Chapter 16 (NC-17) + Chapter 17

Chapter 1

“So we have a deal then?”

“Yes… yes, we have a deal.”

The clown pirate grinned at the old man sitting across from him. Buggy cheerfully cut a chunk out of the apple in his hand with his knife, tossing it into his mouth before he suddenly slammed the knife down onto the table, letting it stick into the wooden table top. The old man jumped while you flinched as you stood beside him. The bartering to keep the town safe from Buggy and his crew had finally finished and now it was just an uncomfortable time to be in the room.

Buggy looked at you and winked before he retrieved his knife, turning his attention back to the old mayor. “That your daughter there? She’s cute.” 

“No, she’s my wife.” He replied; Buggy had just taken a bite of the apple only to spit it out across the desk at the man in mock surprise. The man did his best not to react while you covered your mouth with a look of disgust on your face.

“Wife?” Buggy chuckled. “You have one foot in the grave and you’re married to someone who looks young enough to be your daughter?” He shook his head. “And people think pirates can be disgusting. They don’t really care what their local politicians are up to, do they?” Buggy took another bite of the apple, giving you a once over before he grinned. “Throw her into the deal.”

“I-I suppose we-” The mayor started but you cut him off.

“No, I’m not going with some disgusting pirate like you!” You snapped. “Who knows what you would do to me!”

Buggy locked eyes with you in that moment, the playful attitude gone and replaced with something you couldn’t quite figure out. He stood up and approached you, knife in one hand and apple in the other. The mayor just sat and watched, trembling in his seat, refusing to do anything to protect you. The captain smiled at you as the knife cut into the apple; you could hear the fruit cracking from the force of the knife, saw the juice spill over his fingers, soaking into his gloved hands.

“What did you say about my nose?” He asked, voice eerily calm as he tossed the bit of apple into his mouth. 

“I didn’t say anything about your nose.” You spat as you looked him up and down, crossing your arms. “Though I doubt I could say anything about it that you haven’t heard before.”

He smiled at that before raising the knife up and throwing it into the wall behind you. You turned to see where it landed but his hand was on your throat, backing you up to the wall and next to the knife. Buggy held you there for a moment, the smile disappearing as his hand tightened its hold on you. 

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you.” He murmured as you grabbed his hand with yours, trying to pull him off you. Buggy suddenly smirked and let go of you. “You’ll fit in with my crew. Though, I should warn you, every time you mouth off I cut off a bit of your tongue.”

You rubbed your throat, breathing heavily as you turned to your husband. “You’re… you’re just going to let him take me?!”

“He’ll destroy the town if I don’t!” The mayor wailed. “I can’t allow that to happen! Sa-Sacrifices have to happen!”

“I’m not a sacrifice!” You exclaimed as your hand went to where Buggy was just touching you. You felt… weird from that, never having been touched in that manner before. You were used to aggression, pain, fear. His touch was… strong but there didn’t seem to be malice, but more of a performance. He caused you discomfort but there wouldn’t be a bruise left on you from him that you could tell. You shook your head and looked back at Buggy. “What do you plan to do to me?”

“Target practice, maybe.” Buggy shrugged. “I got this new thing I wanna try where I cut off a volunteer’s clothes with my knife throwing, y’know. Getcha right where the seams of your clothes are and see if I can cut through them.” He looked you up and down as he reached out to touch the fabric of your blouse. “Though, this is nice fabric, I don’t know if I want to risk damaging it.”

You slapped his hand away before turning to slap your ‘husband’. He recoiled at your touch but you didn’t care. He had no issue giving you up to some dirty pirate like this. Sacrifice? You were not some animal to be led for slaughter, you were a person, and you would take out Buggy and his crew even if it killed you. As you turned to face Buggy, he was already at the door of the office, but a hand was in front of you, holding a small red ball. With a squeeze, red smoke burst out of it and everything went dark.

~

The rope around your wrists was tight, scraping and irritating your skin. You were groggy as you came to but you were on a soft surface, fabric rubbing against your cheek almost comfortingly as you tried to get your head to stop spinning and for the nausea to cease. It took a few minutes for you to recall what your last moments were. Slapping a hand, your ex-husband, and some kind of smoke. 

Oh shit you were captured by a pirate. A clown pirate with a bright red nose who was sensitive about it.

You moved your tongue around in your mouth, relieved that it was still whole. He didn’t cut it out yet, but was that empty threat or was he really going to do it? And what was he actually planning on doing with you? Stories often went around about pirates and what they were known to do to their prisoners, and you had heard many of them to give you some idea what to expect. Would he kill you after he was done with you, or would he kill you first and toss you into the sea to be food for the fishes and sea kings?

Heavy footsteps were approaching your room. You shut your eyes, hoping whoever it was would see you were asleep and would leave you alone. 

Except that was expecting too much. 

“Get up.” Buggy said as he walked over to the bed and grabbed the rope, pulling you into a sitting position. You glared up at him and he smirked, patting you on the cheek just enough to emit sound without the sting of a slap. “Rise and shine, cupcake. We need a new freak out there and you gotta earn your keep.”

“I will do no such thing.” You snapped as he pulled you up to your feet. Your body was still feeling the effects of the smoke and when you stood up you were off balanced, falling into him. To your surprise, he caught you, steadying you on your feet before he led you out of the room and down a walkway to another. You didn’t want to follow him, choosing to let your legs give out and falling to the floor. He stopped and turned to look at you.

“Really?” He shook his head and picked you up, slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “You haven’t even had one performance and you’re already acting like a diva.” 

“Excuse me?!” You wriggled around, trying to get him to drop you, but he laid his hand over your back, steadying you as he walked. “Put me down now!”

“You seem to think you can tell me what to do, cupcake.” He chuckled as his hand slid from your back down to the top of your ass. Without warning he gave you a pinch, causing you to yelp in surprise. “You may have been that loser mayor’s wife, but here? You’re just another freak like us.”

He set you down in a chair and stood behind you. There was a mirror in front of you with lights all around it. You didn’t want to be looking in the mirror right then, seeing the bruises on your face, the black eye that was healing, or the cut on your cheek that was scabbing over. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath. What was this clown playing at?

“Now, we both know I didn’t do that to your face.” He murmured as he put both of his hands on your shoulders and leaned down towards you. “That old man did, didn’t he?” He touched the cut and you jerked away. “Weird, he seemed scared of you back there.”

“He was scared of you.” You hissed as you opened your eyes to glare at him. Buggy put his hand on your other cheek and you flinched, jerking backwards and nearly headbutting him. “Don’t touch me!”

“Cupcake, I just gotta do your makeup.” He told you calmly as he moved just in time from getting a bloody nose. “Cover up your battle scars, y’know. Can’t have the audience thinkin’ we rough up our performers here.”

You jerked again in your seat, trying to get out of reach of him. You didn’t want him touching you, speaking to you, or being near you. You didn’t want to go home but you didn’t want to be here. Why did this happen to you? 

“Red lipstick would look wonderful on you, y’know.” He murmured as he leaned forward, looking at your face. “Or maybe I just throw you out there and let me and Cabaji practice our knife act on you.” He grinned. “I don’t want to waste makeup on you if you’re going to start crying out there.”

“Fuck you!” You spat as you threw your head forward, colliding with his nose. He reared back, swearing loudly as he clutched it while you slumped in the chair, dazed. You didn’t think it would do anything but he fell to the ground on his ass, stomping his feet in pain from the hit.

“Agh, you bitch! Why there?!” He shrieked, covering it with his hand as he tried to breathe through the pain. “Fuck, is your head a cannon ball? It felt like being hit by one!”

You lifted your bound hands to your head, rubbing your forehead. You could say the same thing about him, but then again you didn’t make it a habit of headbutting strange men. Your head felt a little rattled from the attack and the sharp pain in your forehead was throbbing.

“I didn’t think I’d hit your nose!” You shot back as you shut your eyes in pain. “Fucking asshole!”

He gave your chair a kick before getting to his feet, cursing you, headbutts, and noses before storming out of the room and leaving you by yourself. Your head was still hurting and you wondered if you were going to have a new bruise to add to the collection, but at least this one was from self defense, and you'd do it again to him if you had the chance. 

“Fucking clown.” You sighed as you leaned back in your seat. You needed to figure out what was going to happen next.

[jasntodds]

Caving In [4]

Pairing: Gar Logan x Fem!Powered!Reader, Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 7,625

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, a nightmare, fluff, hurt/comfort, some paranoia, mention of torture, mention of abuse, Dick tries to kind of have “the talk”, Jason and reader argue (we all know sometimes Jason is an asshole, this is the only time this kind of argument happens btw), mentions of bruising and swelling, a mention of drug addiction, mentions of death

Summary: ❝Tell me Atlas: What is heavier, The world or its people’s hearts?❞ You never expected your life to end up this way, turned upside down by an infamous Gotham villain. It’s been a living hell, every single day, until Dick Grayson brings you to Titans tower where you meet Gar Logan and Jason Todd.

A/N: I’m really excited to post chapter 7 just so you guys know lol This feels kind of like a filler but this is the only one that feels like it I think?? I might try to post chapter 5 this weekend because of that lol I am easily motivated to post more often when I get feedback 😂 The first few chapters take place between season 2 episode 1 and season 2 episode 2. You can add yourself the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary​ and turn on notifications if you prefer that!!

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Nightmares are a funny thing. They’re rarely anything realistic once you’re able to be calm enough to think about them. But they always contain some type of fear or traumatic event someone has experienced. Sometimes, it’s not rational or there is some deep hidden meaning behind the nightmare but other times, it’s just from trauma left unhandled. Those nightmares are the worst.

They make you revise the worst times of your life over and over and over like a broken record. No matter what you do, you lose in the nightmare. Years later, you might be happy and healthy but the nightmare comes back and you feel like you’re right back where you were. Trapped in the never-ending agony. Trapped inside a tilt-a-whirl made of panic attacks and broken hearts. And every single night, it’s a living hell.

And that’s where you are now, living your own personal hell with screaming so loud your throat is raw and ragged breaths beg your chest to finally cave in. The flashes of your “foster dad” scar the back of your eyes with every blink, like Freddy Krueger clawing his way to the surface. You might have escaped him physically, but mentally you’re trapped like a bear at a circus. Your hands shake as tears well behind your eyes and as the panic rages through your veins, the anger sets in. And you’re so mad that you’re allowing this piece of shit to haunt you even in your sleep, somewhere you might just feel safe. How are you ever supposed to be safe from him if you can’t even sleep? What if he finds you? What if, somehow, your nightmares are just a sign he’s coming after you? What are you supposed to do then? What if he has powers and that’s why he’s coming to finish you off?

A million what-ifs scramble through your brain as you sit in your bed, the bedside lamp still on. You get out of bed and it’s not even like you’re walking. With every worst-case scenario running through your head at once, you’re just moving through motions to exit your room. You need to make sure he isn’t here, need to make sure everyone here is safe from him, that you’re safe from him.

Your hands go up, right in front of you, slightly outstretched as if waiting for you to run into him. The palms of your hands glow green, ready for any type of attack you might come across in the secure tower while you tiptoe your way out of your room.

“Y/n?” A groggy voice from the right pulls your attention as you were just about to walk down the hallways. You jump and spin quickly, the glow of your hands intensifying in the dim light of the hallway. “It’s me.” Gar defends quickly, putting his hands up. “Gar?” His voice is still groggy but full of fear as he glances between your hands and your face.

You could see him with the dim lights of the hallway and the green glow of your hands but it still didn’t click, not until he said his name. You aren’t sure where your head was but a part of you is scared because of it. You were so lost in a state of fear and urgency to make sure everything was safe, you were blinded. It’s a bit terrifying. 

You lets out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, dropping your hands as the green fades. “Fuck, what’re you doing?” You whisper-yell at him.

Gar takes a few steps towards you. “You were screaming.” He whispers back to you. “I heard you so I came to see if you were okay.”

The walls aren’t thin but Gar is pretty sure your scream could have woken up anyone. It was loud and pained, etched in terror. But, that’s a thing that happens here from time-to-time. Everyone has a habit of occasionally waking up screaming. It’s either childhood trauma haunting them or new trauma from Trigon. Gar figures that’s why no one else got up. They’re conditioned to be used to it.

You watch him carefully as the panic starts to cloud with feelings of regret and guilt. You didn’t realize you had screamed loud enough to wake anyone up. That’s not fair to anyone, to be woken by someone who can’t handle their own shit. And then to be standing out in the middle of a hallway at the crack of dawn with sleep still in their eyes talking about it. You look to the floor, shifting your weight on your feet and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Are you….okay?” Gar asks, coming a little closer.

When you fell asleep on him earlier, you looked peaceful. Normally, you kind of always have this look of fear. Your eyes always seem a little distant and you look behind whoever you’re talking to a lot. You don’t make eye contact for longer than a few seconds. But while you slept, you looked at ease and peaceful and calm, like you didn’t need to look over your shoulder anymore but then you shot up out of nowhere. Gar knew it had to have been a nightmare. He reacts the same way when he has one, maybe everyone does but he knows the signs. Wide eyes, ragged breathing, distant but sleep-filled eyes. And now, you’re awake again from a nightmare and it doesn’t sit right with the kind boy with green hair.

You nod. “Y-yeah.” You offer a fake smile. “You, uh, you can go back to bed.”

“Are you going to go back to bed?” Gar asks with a pointed look and he doesn’t want you to be alone. The shadows are a bit more haunting when you’re alone.

“Uh….I mean….eventually.” You answer softly, dropping your head slightly.

“I can stay with you until you fall asleep if you want.” Gar shrugs his shoulders, putting his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants.

You raise a brow at him, not looking pleased with the idea. You don’t want to inconvenience him or seem weak. You’re in a tower full of heroes and you can’t even sleep through the night. The last thing you want is for any of them to see you as the weak link. What happens if you can’t pull it together? Will they just drop you because you’re not strong enough?

“It-it’s okay.” You  don’t smile this time, you just keep chewing your lip, pulling your sleeves over your hands, something Gar has been noticing you do.

“What were you doing out here?” Gar asks, his voice kind and not accusing but you shake your head, knowing it sounds ridiculous. “I won’t tell anyone.” He offers and there’s this sweet but subtle smile pulling at his lips.

Jason, a few hours ago, told you to talk to him. He said maybe it would help and the only way he’d know that, is if Gar knows Jason’s baggage, too. Jason doesn’t seem the type to wave the white flag and spill all of his secrets. Maybe Gar just cares about everyone and maybe it will help.

You sigh and cave. “I-I-I was….was just making sure….uh….he wasn’t….here.” You stutter but eventually get everything out and a part of Gar’s heart breaks at hearing it. 

You aren’t looking at him, a sense of shame consuming you and Gar is not about to have you feeling bad for worrying that the person who tortured you is seeking you out in the one place you feel safe. It’s not fair and it’s not right. Gar knows whatever you went through was horrible but the fact you’re so worried that the person is in the tower? It’s unfathomable.

Gar starts walking past you, stopping a few steps ahead of you and offering you his hand. “We’ll look together.”

You look at his hand and then up at him with his words and you can feel your nose getting warm while your eyes burn. Your entire face softens and there’s something about the offer that makes you feel like everything in you is being warmed by a fireplace, warmed by a place one can only describe as home. He didn’t think you were crazy or that it was ridiculous or stupid. He just…offered to help.

So, you put your hand in his, following him through the tower.

As you walk, you hold his hand tightly noticing the soft callouses. His grip is tight but in a comforting type of way and he glances at you every few seconds as if making sure you’re okay. You walk from room to room, turning on the lights and verifying there isn’t anyone around before you end up in the comms room with the supercomputer. Gar takes a seat and shows you that everything is still secure and there hasn’t been a break-in. Everyone still needs their fingerprints to get in and the front door is done by facial recognition. According to the logs, no one has been in or out of the tower since nine the night before.

“I’m sorry.” You say quietly, standing to the side of Gar with arms crossed and eyes on the large screen in front of you. “I know this was stupid.”

Gar spins in the chair to face you but your eyes don’t move. “It’s okay, ya know? You’re scared and this is a new place. It’s not stupid.”

“It feels like it though, I-i-i….I see him anytime I close my eyes.” Your voice is so small.

You think maybe you should take Jason’s advice fully. Gar is awake with you anyway and you woke him up. He could have gone back to bed but he walked with you instead, knowing full well there wasn’t an intruder in the tower. It’s like you owe him some type of explanation.

“Foster dad.” You clarify. “He’s originally from Gotham, too, ya know? So him being a complete psychopath kind of tracks.” There’s a sharp bitterness in your voice but you keep your stare off of Gar, afraid that if you can see the look on his face you know he’s giving you, you’ll just shut down and go to bed.

“He just…did that to you?” Gar asks with furrowed brows and pain in his voice.

“Yep, he wanted powers. Some weird thing against Batman and Robin so he used me because ya know, the system doesn’t actually give a fuck about most foster kids.” You grit your teeth, your fists balling in your arms. “Then thought I was concealing my powers from him because he was certain his experiments were working so he’d try to literally beat them out of me.” You shrug a shoulder. “Guess he was right.”

Gar pauses, piecing it together. He was sure you would have tried to use your powers, but you didn’t? “Wait so….you never used your powers around him and—“

“Let him beat me until he thought I was dead?” You ask, just glancing at Gar long enough to see him nod. “Yep. If he knew it worked, he’d have killed me anyway. Letting him think he failed was…” You tilt your head side to side slightly. “Vindicating in a way. I, uh, I know it sounds so stupid but I was desperate to try and get out. Desperate people do stupid things."

“I’m so sorry that happened.” Gar’s eyes are glued to you, hating the idea of living through that.

He was tortured before and it haunts him every single day. He wasn’t even tortured for very long and it’s still hell. You were tortured for a lot longer. He gets your hesitance and your paranoia. He’d be paranoid, too if he were you.

“Yeah….” You sigh. “So, I might have escaped physically but the piece of shit really isn’t leaving my dreams alone, I guess.”

Gar sits on it for a few seconds. While he was kind of this weird experiment in a way, Dr. Caulder knew it would work and it would save him. He never had to fear for his life around him. He feared speaking up and being himself because sometimes the doctor wasn’t very nice. He didn’t really like other people being their own people, not if it contradicted what he believed or wanted. So, he can’t even fathom want horrors haunt your mind even in safety.

“I can check the tower for you every night if you want.” Gar offers. You jerk your head in his direction, surprise etched across every crease of your face. “And uh, if you have a nightmare, you can wake me up. I leave my door unlocked anyway…if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Y-y-you’d do that?”

Gar gains a sheepish smile as he shrugs. “Yeah, of course.”

You will never tell Jason, but maybe he was right about telling Gar. You feel a little better about it and he’s so nice. He’s offering to lose sleep when you have a nightmare which could be every night. You wonder how he’s chosen to be so kind despite whatever he’s been through.

“Thank you.” You look to the ground and then finally look at Gar. “Can you not tell anyone? Please?”

He chuckles softly. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Thanks, it means a lot.” You suck in a breath. “Well, now that I know my delusions are just delusions, I’m gonna try and get some more sleep.” You give him a genuine smile this time.

“I’ll be up if you need anything.” Gar says, turning back to the computer to exit out of the security system.

“I’m so sorry.” You apologize again. “I didn’t mean to keep you from sleeping or anything.”

“It’s okay.” Gar assures you. “I should be getting up early anyway.”

“Okay.” You nod, offering him a closed and small smile.

It’s six now so Gar’s alarm would be going off in an hour anyway. But, you’re still going to go to bed. He didn’t hear you go to bed the night before and it was pretty late when you woke up from the first nightmare.

“What, uh what time did you go to bed anyway?”

“Uh….” You squint an eye, trying to remember the last time you looked at your phone. “Four? I think?”

“Wow, okay.” Gar’s brows raise quickly as he chuckles softly.

“I-I got talking with Jason last night so…” Your words fall off. “Couldn’t sleep and I ran into him.”

Gar nods slowly, ignoring the tint of a burn in his chest. You talked to Jason but not him? He’s been so nice to you and he feels like you trust him. All you do with Jason is this weird banter thing that Gar is slowly realizing maybe it’s flirting. Not that he’s actively trying to pursue anything because that doesn’t feel right either. But something about you talking to Jason, hurts. He’s always deemed himself a trustworthy person who’s a pretty good listener but you went to probably the worst listener on the face of the planet. He doesn’t really get it and he knows he has not right to assume you would tell him anything. Above everything else, he’s just surprised you got talking to Jason.

“What’d ya talk about?” Gar plays it cool, not digging but just asking.

“Uh….nothing really, I guess.” You lie and it’s at that moment you realize you lie a lot. Not that you intend to, it just feels like an instinct now either to protect yourself or other people. “I mean…not nothing.” You correct yourself. “Some of what happened in a very unserious manner.”

Gar nods his head again and you might be a little dense but you’re not so dense that you missed the way he stiffed in his chair. “Did it help?” He asked.

“Well, I, uh, I felt better after but then I had a nightmare so….not sure how much talking about it really helped.” You scoff as you roll your shoulders.

“Is it because it was unserious?” Gar asks, quoting your direct word.

You shake your head. “Nah, always been better with unserious ways of talking about trauma. When it gets too….emotional I don’t….” You look to the floor, tugging your sleeves over your hands. “I don’t like it very much, like it less than I usually do, I suppose.”

“You can talk to me.” Gar offers, looking back over to you.

“I know.” You smile at him softly, it’s almost a smirk that forms. “Can you get a little snarky and nasty about it?”

“Would it help?” Gar chuckles, his position loosening with the question and the burning sensation in his chest starting to dissipate.

“Yeah, you can’t give that look you do. With the big eyes and sad expression, makes me feel weird.” You scrunch the left side of your mouth upwards.

Gar laughs softly, putting his hands up. “Okay, I’ll try my best.”

“Thanks.” You look around the room and then back to him. “I do like talking to you and hanging around you. You make me feel comfortable here.” You admit and then realize you’re saying way too much. “Okay well, that’s enough for today. I’m actually going to bed.” You smile at him and it almost feels like you should hug him or something but that also feels like it might just get awkward so you opt for a small wave as if that wasn’t just as awkward.

“Sleep well.” Gar laughs softly, matching the wave with burning cheeks.

You finally get some much-needed rest, without a nightmare. It wasn't a lot of sleep by any means but it was a lot more than you’ve gotten in a long time and for the first time, you actually feel well-rested. You aren't sure if it's because you talked with Gar about what happened a little bit or if it's because you knew he was awake and wouldn't let anyone in your room if they tried. Or that he helped you look around the tower for Jerry like two crazy people. Maybe it's a combination of everything but you feel a lot better.

You find yourself walking into the kitchen once you’re fully awake, still dressed in pajamas. Your thing has always been you shouldn't need to get properly dressed if you aren't actively doing something or going somewhere. Why bother dirtying clothes?

When you walk into the kitchen, Gar and Jason are sat on the barstools while Dick is making some type of shake, Rachel is just coming in from the opposite hall. The boys look a little sweaty, devouring their food like they haven’t eaten in days. You assume they’d just gotten done with a training session and, apparently, were too hungry to shower first.

"Good morning." Dick chimes, bits of sarcasm in his words given it just being past noon.

You pause, glaring at him. "You're one of those aren't you?"

"What?" Dick chuckles, confusion in his face.

"Thinking the early bird gets the worm or whatever." Your voice is flat and you might be well-rested and it might be the afternoon, but you’re not a morning person.

Dick shrugs. "It's true."

"But the mouse gets the cheese, my guy." You give him a thumbs up, moving to the seat between Jason and Gar and sitting down. Gar gives you this gentle smile while Jason has this proud smirk pulling at his lips. "What?" You look at Dick who looks somewhere between amused and contentment.

Dick is looking at you with a sense of ease and accomplishment. He thought you’d be more...closed off longer. This is a new place, you’re traumatized and hurt. But, you seem comfortable, using sarcasm with him that isn’t hurtful and plopping down right between the boys whose expressions did not go unnoticed by Dick. Dick feels like he might be doing something really good here.

"Nothing." Dick's face settles with amusement. "Settling okay?"

"Mhm." You hum.

"Since she doesn't shut the fuck up, I'm sure she's fine." Jason states, his voice trying to sound menacing.

Gar and you look to Jason with annoyance. "You have not shut up for a single second I have been here and this is day three. You had no complaints last night." You look away, Dick looking between the two of you with his cup held to his mouth. He doesn’t even wanna know.

"You were whining, I wanted you to shut up and it worked." Jason mumbles and  you let out a laugh. What is his issue?

"I don't whine, I complain. There's a difference." You hold your pointer finger up to correct him and Jason cracks a smile, Gar chuckles into his water bottle.

"Same shit." Jason fires back. "You could stop."

You roll your eyes and that's when the idea sparks. Jason isn’t winning this, this is your game to win. "Hey, Dick, question: What's your rule on dating? Ya know in the tower?"

Jason and Gar both stiffen in their seats, you catching it out of the corner of your eyes and it takes everything in you not to burst out laughing or break the stare you have with Dick. Gar is choking on his water and Jason's cheeks are turning red while Dick is stuck looking at all three of you wondering how the hell he got here. The last thing Dick wants to do is discuss this. Of course, he knew there was a chance of something going on, but he kind of assumed it would just happen. He didn’t think he’d get dragged into it, not like this at least.

"She's screwing with you." Rachel says from the other side of Gar. You give Dick a wide smirk, Gar and Jason looking a little displeased, Jason more than Gar who almost looks disappointed.

"Of course she is." Dick lets out a breath, his expression unamused. 

"Sorry, you were a necessary casualty in getting Jason to shut up for a few seconds." You hold an apologetic smile.

Jason flirts a lot and in your experience, if you bring up dating out of the blue, it’ll shut someone like Jason up faster than anything because it’s out of left field. He’s caught off guard and it gets his brain going on if there’s something going on. You think it’s funny, you’ve won this bit.

"Well, since you wanted to bring it up..." Dick starts and all four of you suddenly look like you need seatbelts.

"No, not the talk, please." Gar begs with a groan.

Dick grimaces. "No, of course not. I trust you all know about that." Even if you didn’t, Dick isn’t sure he’d be able to give the talk. He’d call Donna and Dawn. They’re the responsible ones.

"Some of us more than others." Jason quips with a smirk.

"Gross." Rachel mutters.

"Dude." Gar looks past you and at Jason, shaking his head at Jason.

"Anyway, uh..." Dick fumbles for words, realizing he never had any intention of this conversation which was his fault given the Titans past of relationship in the tower. "Just make sure everyone is consenting and be safe?"

"You sound so uncertain about that." You raise a brow as your words are slow.

"I don't know how to have this conversation." Dick defends.

"We don't have to." Gar is grimacing in his seat. "We know, safety and consent, got it." It’s not that Gar is a prude, it’s just awkward and he’s not much of a fan of awkward conversations. If it were just him and Dick, it wouldn’t be awkward, but it's everyone.

"Don't bring drama into the training room or while we're out."

"Obviously." Rachel says, already tired of the conversation.

"That won't be a problem." Jason mutters.

You rolls your eyes at him before looking back to Dick. "You're doing great, bud." You give Dick a thumbs up.

"That's it. I don't care, don't do anything.....graphic..."

"God." Gar groans, making you laugh. But, everyone has gathered this look of disgust on their faces with Dick’s choice of words. "Please, stop talking." Gar pleads.

"In a public area of the tower." Dick continues.

All of your faces contort into a grimace, even Jason’s. That is such an odd and specific request. You did not think this is where that joke would go. You didn’t think it’d go anywhere, let alone here.

"I feel like there's a very specific reason you said that and I don't wanna know." You laugh. "I'm sorry, I didn't think he'd decide to have this conversation." You apologize to the room.

"And what did you learn today?" Dick asks, not too happy about feeling like he had to have the talk with the new Titans.

"You want me today something like pick my words more carefully next time but...I think I just learned not bring up interpersonal relations with you in front of other people." You scrunch your nose.

Dick lets out a sigh. "Well, are we clear then?"

"YES." Gar yells, dramatically. "Can we stop now? This is awkward."

"Come on, Gar. Surely this isn't new territory for you." You kick Jason under the counter. "Ow! What the fuck?"

"Shut the fuck up." You snip at him.

"Yeah? And What are you gonna do about it?" Jason looks you up and down.

You narrow your eyes and for a second you think about what you could do. You could give him a burn, something equivalent to a rug burn. But, that’s not right and you’d never actually try to hurt him, not like this. And you can’t punch him because that also seems a bit extreme. He’d probably see it coming anyway, block you, then hit you back.

"That's what I thought." Jason scoffs with a look of pride as he’s won.

You shove him with your hand, Jason falling off of his chair. He hits the floor with a thud, looking at up at you with a twisted face filled of anger and shock. For someone who can't fight and who's injured, you’re ballsy. Jason could fight you right now and you'd basically be defenseless but Jason wouldn't do that. He knows where the lines are when it comes to physical contact and he doesn't cross them. He crosses a lot of lines, but fighting people who can't fight back isn't one of those. So, he's even more pissed about it.

Jason gets back to his feet, closing the distance between him and you. "What the fuck is your problem, huh?" Jason yells in your face, Gar adjusting in his seat, ready to get up at any point and Dick is ready to step in if he needs to.

"You are, apparently. Why do you have to be such a fucking asshole? For no reason? Aren't you friends?"

"He doesn't need you to come to his fucking defense. I was fucking joking." Jason snarls, looking just past you at Gar before looking back at you.

"Right." You mutter. "Except it's obvious the whole conversation has made him uncomfortable so why don't you go cool the fuck off. You obviously need to." You sit straight in your seat, your face close to Jason's and you’re not backing down.

"You shoved me!" Jason flings his arm out in frustration.

"You asked me what I was gonna do about it! So I showed you!" You bark at him. "What are you gonna do about it?"

A dry laugh escapes Jason's throat and he doesn't want to actually fight you, but you’re making it a little tempting right about now. "Is that all you fucking have?" He taunts you instead.

"Wanna test me?" You open your palms, holding them just in front of your shoulders as they glow. Jason looks at the green and he doesn't get how people with powers are so willing to use them. He doesn't need powers. He's got his fists and those are plenty.

"Because you're just another freak, right?"

Gar gets off his seat at that comment, pushing Jason slightly and standing in between you and Jason. "Dude, go calm down. It's not that serious." Gar keeps his voice level, trying to diffuse the situation.

"You a team now, huh?" Jason looks in between you.

"Jason, come on. Cool off for a few minutes." Dick keeps his stance, choosing not to crowd the already heated area.

"Fuck you guys!" Jason yells, pushing past Gar and heading down the right hallway.

Gar sits down again and Dick's position relaxes with Jason out of the room. Gar's just surprised it went as far as it did but it's also Jason. He has buttons and pushing them sometimes leads to blow-ups. Jason is still his friend but sometimes, he really does not make it easy and this is one of those times. He doesn't understand why Rachel and now you are freaks but somehow Gar is never a freak. He has powers, too and as far as he's concerned, turning into a tiger is far more freakish than whatever you have going on. And he always acts like it's your fault, somehow. Rachel was just born like that, no one gets to pick their biological parents. And Gar and you were injected. How is that right? It hurts a little because Gar knows that if they weren't friends, he'd be the target one of Jason's freak rants.

"Is that what everyone meant by I'd get used to Jason?" You ask the room.

"Yeah." Gar answers and Dick nods. "He does that sometimes."

"Interesting." You hum quietly, your hands shaking slightly, Gar taking notice.

"Are you okay?" He asks, looking between your hands and your eyes.

"Oh..." You quickly move your hands under the countertop and tug your sleeves down. "I'm, uh I'm fine." You fake a smile at him.

It's not that you really thought Jason might hit you, him hitting you over a shove didn’t even cross your mind. You don't really know if he's the type that gets mad and hits people, you don't really know him at all. But, you'd think that would have been a warning from someone if that were the case. It was more that you don't like getting yelled at apparently. It wasn’t an issue before Jerry but, now it seems to be another trigger.

"He wouldn't have hurt you." Dick assures you, as if reading your mind.

"Jason doesn't hit people here when he gets mad, just yells a lot." Gar assures you, following Dick's lead.

"I didn't think he'd hit me." You tell them with ease. "Got that throbbing thing in the back of my head when someone's going to." You remind them. "And I just...I'm not scared of him. Guess I just don't like being yelled at when someone is in my face." You look to the counter. "I'm fine, honest."

"Are you sure?" Gar asks.

"Yeah." You give him a soft smile. "Thanks though. I'm gonna eat." You get down and find a bowl in a cabinet, moving around Dick.

"Okay, I'm gonna go check on Jason then, make sure he's cooling down." Dick gives Gar a look and a nod toward you. Gar nods in response while Dick leaves to find Jason.

You make your cereal while Gar watches you. Your hands are still shaking and he feels bad. It's not his fault that Jason blew up because it's Jason. He blows up at everything but Gar could have defended himself. It's nice that you did. He's never had someone defend him like that but it got you yelled at by Jason and after you had, what Gar assumed to be, a pretty nice conversation the night before. He just worries about you.

"Hey," Gar starts as you take your seat back next to him. "Wanna do something today?" Gar asks.

You furrow your brows at him, before taking a bite of your cereal. "Like what?"

"What'd you wanna do?" Gar shrugs, figuring maybe you should be the one to decide. He just wants to hang out with you.

"Mmmm." You hum and think for a second. "Dye my hair." You chuckle softly.

"That's what you wanna do?" Gar asks.

"Mhm." You hums. "Always wanted to and you have green hair, Rachel's hair is purple." You shrug.

You just want a change. This is a big change, being at the tower but that doesn’t have anything to do with your appearance. You like how you look but you want something different. Your mom never let you dye your hair even though you really wanted to. This place, this place allows you to do that and to change something about yourself. It’s a way to take control of something. The way you see it, with all the bruising and swelling, you don’t look much like yourself anyway. Might as well change the hair, too.

"Okay." Gar beams at you. "We can go get whatever dye you want today and I can help. I'm not sure how much help I'll be but maybe we can get Rachel to help if you want." Gar rambles off and he seems so energetic and happy about it.

"Uh..." You stutter. "Okay, yeah that'd be fun. Thank you." The smile you give him is wide and filled of joy.

"What color?"

You tell him your favorite color, beaming at him. "Always thought that hair was cool." You smirk at him.

"We'll go when you're done eating." Gar gets up from his chair. "I'm gonna shower first."

"Have a blast." You grin to yourself, going back to your cereal. "Meet me in my room after?" You look back to him and he nods with a cheery smile before turning on his feet, and quickly heading down the hallway. "He's so cute." You say to yourself, going back to your cereal.

After Gar's shower, he met with you in your room. You were already dressed and ready to go, you even asked Rachel for help when you got back which Rachel was more than happy to help. Once Gar was ready, he was the one that asked Dick for some money before you left and off you went with Rachel, you feeling more comfortable having both Gar and Rachel with you. You realize how great it is that Rachel was willing to help because you never would have gotten something everything you needed.

When you got back, Gar and you met with Rachel in a bathroom. Rachel got everything together and get to work with your hair. You explained to Rachel that you still wanted some of your natural hair color but the majority of it to be dyed. Rachel understood what you were explaining while Gar seemed a little confused.

As Rachel helped with your hair, the three of you got talking about past lives. You all avoided all talk about trauma and tragic backstories and instead talked about your favorite movies and shows, music. If you'd ever been to a concert, the best places you've ever eaten, random stories about family and friends you had before everything. And while these conversations are going on, there's warmth and comfort that consumes you.

This is the longest you’ve gone without thinking about how your face looks or how your body is sore or Jerry. It's just the three of you and you feel so at home because Gar and Rachel make it so easy. And you wonder if this is what real friendship feels like.

Sure, you had friends before your mom died. But that was then and this is now. You had a small circle of friends but only one that you really relied on and could tell anything to. But then your mom died and it all got so messy and heavy. You couldn't inconvenience even your best friend with your problems over it. Your best friend never really understood the person you started to become after. Vengeful and spiteful and angry. And desperate and cold and detached. It struck like a hurricane right through your friendship.

You couldn't handle anything and you were always running from CPS. What kind of friend would you be if you endangered your best friend's mom by getting in trouble with CPS? You knew it was only a matter of time before they threatened to take your best friend away if they didn't give you up. At least, that's how you always saw it. It was always such a big fear and you couldn't put them through that, on the chance it did happen so you just left one day and never came back. But you weren't a very good friend then either.

You had all these plans of hunting down the Joker and even though you'd probably die, too, hunting him down would have made it worth it to you. To look him in the eyes and just try to hit him or shoot him, if you had a gun anyway. You knew you would never make it out alive and that was something you deemed to be okay because you didn't have anything worth living for anymore. Your dad went off to choose drugs over you, your mom died, your best friend not knowing how to handle anything. A suicide mission seemed like a pretty sweet deal at the time. But, now you’re here with Gar and Rachel, in this bathroom getting the hair you’ve wanted to try and maybe you have more worth living for.

"Okay, what do you think?" Rachel asks, shutting the blow-dryer off, proud of the dye job she's done.

You look in the mirror and your face lights up. Stripes of the color consume the majority of your head and you could not be happier in this moment. "I love it!" You squeal before turning around. "Thank you!" You hug Rachel quickly before turning back around and there's a sweet and amused smile on Gar's face.

"It looks really good on you." Gar's smile turns shy as you look to him.

"Y-you think so?" You asks, your stomach swirling with his words.

Gar nods. "Yeah, I like the color." Gar’s smile is the softest thing in the world.

"How cute." Rachel giggles before cutting it short as Gar looks at her with wide eyes. "It looks good, yeah." Rachel agrees.

"Thank you." You look at yourself again and you’ve never had this hair before, but it makes you feel more like yourself. It's probably the self-expression it's allowing you to have but you really like it. "And hey, now people will have something else to look at that's not my face." You laugh softly.

"You're face looks good, too." Gar says so quickly, you and Rachel barely catch it, but you do and you both look at him with raised brows. Rachel looks in between you and Gar, waiting for something to happen. This is the most entertainment she's had since they got to San Francisco. "I mean..." Gar stutters. "The, uh, the bruises and stuff, they're healing."

"Mhm." You hum with burning cheeks. "Thank you, Gar."

Gar feels the embarrassment wanting to eat him alive. He can't believe he said that out loud. Now Rachel is looking at him with knowing eyes and he can't help it. Sometimes, things just come out and then he feels like he has to backtrack and now he's embarrassed even though you didn't seem bothered by it. Which then makes him think he didn't need to add in the last comment about the bruises. Surely, you know he didn't mean just the bruises are looking fine now and the meant your whole face but now he doesn't know and he has got to get his brain to shut up for five seconds.

"There you are." Dick says, looking into the bathroom, the door wide open.

"Yes?" Rachel asks.

"Training room." Dick says.

Gar checks the time on his phone, seeing they were in fact late for their last training session. Shopping with you took a little longer than expected since you stopped for food and were having fun together. Then dying your hair took a while but Dick doesn't seem mad about it.

The three of you follow Dick to the training room where Jason is already waiting, as if he hadn't left the room since this morning. You sit on a bench and watch as you’re not allowed to train yet. Dick mostly supervises after giving them some instructions on what to do and then gives pointers. You mostly watch Gar and Jason.

It's interesting watching them. Jason is clearly the aggressor. You can't tell if it's all his pent-up aggression or if it's just his experience as Robin that makes him the aggressor but you find it interesting nonetheless. Gar and Rachel seem to work together to go against Jason even though they're all supposed to be working against each other. Gar works more on a defensive tactic, going for Jason after Jason comes for him or while Rachel has him distracted and that's when Gar gets a hit it. They're being trained by the same person but they fight differently and it seems to match their personalities.

Dick walks over to you as the other three continue to spar. "Like the new hair." Dick compliments you.

"Thanks, Rachel did it for me." You beam up at him.

"Feeling more comfortable?"

"Yeah..." You sigh. "I give you shit 'cause it's fun but I think I'm gonna like it here. Thank you again for taking me in." You say candidly. You make a mental note to thank him regularly for it.

It warms Dick's heart to know his efforts mean something. He just wants to be the mentor he wishes Bruce was and he just wants to help. It seems to be working, with you and Rachel and Gar, jury is still out on Jason. But Dick knows Jason will not be an overnight success.

"Good, I'm glad." Dick offers you a smile before walking back to where he previously was.

The rest of the training session goes by, Gar and Rachel going to you when they had a water break and talking. Jason opted to be by himself, Gar noticing the concern on your face and assuring you that he'll be calm and be over it the next day. But it doesn't quite sit right for you. You don't want him mad at you, you do like to mess with him in a fun banter way, not him being pissed at you.

You like to push people's buttons but you’re not too fond of people being actively mad at you. If there's a line you aren't supposed to cross, all someone has to do is tell you and you'll respect the line. You aren't about making people unnecessarily uncomfortable or mad. But you nod along with Gar anyway and eventually training ends. You stay behind with Jason, Gar hovers a little more than he would given the events of the afternoon but he does eventually leave the two of you alone.

"So, you gonna stay mad at me forever?" You ask as you walk over to Jason who's seated on a bench, getting a drink and ignoring you. "Come on," You groan. "Can you not handle a shove from me?"

Jason glares up at you. "Just shut up." He groans.

"Nope." You sit next to him, your leg touching his. "I'm sorry I shoved you." Jason's brows furrow at you and he doesn't think anyone has apologized to him since he's been here, for anything. "Honest, I should have left it alone but I provoked you further than I should have." You are sorry for it. Sure, Jason owes you an apology, too but you can apologize first. 

"Sorry for what I said." Jason mumbles, swallowing his pride.

He never wants to hurt someone's feelings, not really. In the moment, absolutely but then after he feels horrible about it. He hates when other people make him feel weak. You shoving him from his seat, it made him feel weak and he hates it. It’s how he’s felt his entire life. Weak. So, when he feels weak or when someone pushes the wrong bottom, he just starts talking and going off. It just flows out of his mouth before he can even think about it. It's not an excuse, he just can't help it and he is sorry.

"To you and Gar." Jason lets out a sigh.

The corner of your smile pulls up. "I forgive you."

Jason glances at you and he can’t stay mad at you. Normally, he’s very good at holding grudges. He still has a grudge against a kid who pushed him down a slide when he was seven. He’s very good at holding grudges but you’ve got this smirk that says you’re up to no good and this look in your eyes that sends this electricity through his blood. He can’t explain it but he can’t stay mad at you.

"Did you still wanna train tonight when everyone goes to bed?" Jason turns his head towards you, twitching his brows up and the grin starts pull at his lips. 

"If you're still willing."

"Someone's gotta show you how to do more than fucking shove someone." Jason scoffs but a smile pulls at his lips as he chuckles softly.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, got powers now and never had issues on the streets, okay? People happen to like my quick wit and quips.” You lightly nudge him with your shoulder. 

"Yeah," Jason chortles. "That's why no one fucked with you.” Jason nods his head and lightly nudges you back, not believing you.

"I'd like to think so, yes.” You hold your head up with pride and Jason has this genuinely kind smile on his face. “What time, boss?”

Jason shakes his head. “Midnight. Everyone is usually in their rooms or asleep.”

“Okay, I'll meet you here then." You smirk at him as you get up and lick your lips. He knows deep down he doesn't have a shot with you but his stomach burns with the thought of you. You get under his skin like no one else and he hates to admit it but he really likes it.

"Don't be late." Jason quips, his voice taunting.

You shake your head, turning around to face him again. “Shut the fuck up.” You laugh softly. “I’ll meet you here at midnight, on the dot.” You widen your eyes, mocking him before exiting the room.

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[stories-and-chaos]

Tarnished pt 29

[Helluva Boss AU where Blitzø’s childhood theft from Stolas’ palace is discovered and major consequences ensue for everyone involved.]

[Part 29/?? Word Count: 1535]

—————

Blitzø continued explaining the upcoming festival. “The locals have a great time and the Pain Games are fun to watch, but I gotta do my bodyguard thing. Don’t even get to play.” He pouted, looking more like a grumpy impling than an adult. “Loonie’s coming for extra security. Dina’s never seen it so she’s tagging along for fun.”

Barbie made a noncommittal sound, mostly acknowledging she’d heard. She sipped her iced coffee, the rattling sound from the straw saying it was now more ice and coffee. She shouldn’t be upset. What was there to be mad about? Besides her coffee running out. There, that was it. She was annoyed about missing a free coffee after therapy. Her tossed cup landed in a trash bin; at least her aim hadn’t suffered from all the abuse she’d put her body through.

Blitzø, also finishing his drink, dumped the ice in his mouth. Gotta get all the chocolate he could from it. His cup followed Barb’s, hitting the rim before falling in. Crunching on his ice cubes, he saw Barb cross her arms and stiffen up. He’d seen her chomp on ice too, so he didn’t think that upset her. “‘Ey,” he said around a mouthful of coffee flavored ice, “‘ou w’nna come wif?”

“Huh? Swallow Blitzø, can’t fucking understand ice mouth dude.”

He crunched and swallowed some, giving himself brain freeze. “You wanna come with?” he repeated once it passed. “You’ve been doing great with rehab, maybe your therapist will clear you for the day?”

Barb blushed a little. Nope, she wasn’t embarrassed that he picked up on her feeling left out. Because she didn’t feel left out! “Well, how else am I gonna get my free coffee?” She huffed, deliberately loosening her shoulders and uncrossing her arms. “Which day is it?”

After giving her all the information, Blitzø realized there was something he needed to mention before she saw him in a public setting with Stolas. “Uh, one thing real quick. I gotta play the whole master/servant bullshit. For appearances and crap.” He rubbed his neck, his discomfort radiating off of him. “And that means I gotta have this.” He brushed his other hand against his forehead where the All Imp Circus mark was.

But when his hand moved away, there was a solid white heart in its place. It was topped by a crown with elegant scrolling lines on either side. Barb felt a flash of rage at the sight. You asshole, you covered up our mark?! Then she saw Blitzø’s expression underneath the changed brand. Hurt, shame, and fear. He couldn’t make eye contact with her. Her twin took a shaky breath and passed his hand over the mark again. It was back to a stylized skull heart.

But his expression didn’t change. “It’s… it’s part of the binding,” he said, voice thick with emotion. Fuck this hurt more than the brain freeze. “I learned enough magick to illusion it back, for when I’m solo. But anything in public with Stolas… yeah.” His voice trailed away.

Something else for her to process. “Well, thanks for the gut punch. Least you didn’t spring it on me at the festival.” Barb’s tail cracked in annoyance as she walked. The tip poked him in the side. “C’mon, I’m hungry and I wanna get back before the cafeteria closes. If you beat me there I’ll let you tell me more over dinner.” She picked up the pace, Blitzø slack jawed behind her.

“Fuck you Barb, you know the way better than I do!” He ran to catch up. He didn’t beat her to the dorm but they still had dinner together. They chatted about less heavy subjects and Barb agreed to the festival, pending therapist approval.

—————

A week later, Barb was waiting at the elevator concourse, not quite patiently. Either Blitzø or one of the girls were supposed to meet her at the Sloth terminal and head to Wrath. Normally, Barb was dressed in some sort of tight miniskirt dress with tall boots. She’d swapped that for denim shorts, sensible shoes, a crop top, and a checkered button up tied under her breasts. No point in her good heeled boots getting stuck in mud or worse at Wrath’s farms.

Loona hopped out of an elevator for foot traffic. Like Barb, she wasn’t wearing her usual goth outfit. Unlike Barb, she was dressed in a dark jacket, slacks, and wore a set of dark shades. “What’re you supposed to be, Men In Black?” the imp scoffed.

The Hound plucked at the jacket. “I know right? Blitzø wants my help with security and this is his idea of a bodyguard outfit. But fuck all happens at this thing. This is the third one I’ve been to and it’s soooo dull.” The two got in line for ascending foot traffic. “By the way, if you and Blitzø are cool now, should we call you Aunt Barb?”

“Fuck no! Makes me sound like an old lady, one that sits around knitting and shit. Just Barb, got it?” The imp glared up at the Hellhound. “And I still don’t know if I’m ‘cool’ with the jerk.’

Loona shrugged and pursed her lips as they boarded. “I mean, you accepted his invite? Been talking after every group?”

“I wanted a change from all that Sloth-pink. And he gets me free coffee.” Loona smirked and let the matter slide, for now. They complained idly together as the elevator steadily rose. Once at the Wrath level, they exited to see a throng of imps outside the terminal, gathering for the festival. “Dad and the rest are waiting at the main tent. You wanna see them first or check things out around here?”

Barb squinted at the harsh orange light. After years of Sloth’s dreamlike hues, her retinas felt like they were burning. “Might as well let Blitzø know I’m here.” They pushed through the crowd; the festival stage and tent were easy to spot amidst the countrified buildings. “Waiaminnit, isn’t that royal here too?”

“Oh shit! Yeah, Stolas, Dad’s with him.” Loona halted a few yards away from the tent. “You gonna be okay? I can let Blitzo know you’re here if you don’t wanna deal with Stolas.”

Barb glared at the fancy tent walls. “Fuck it, I’m here. Let’s rip off this freaking bandaid.”

Living in the circus gave her a flair for drama. She whipped open the tent flap and announced, “Barbie Wire’s here, bitches.” The small group inside all looked at her blankly before her twin walked up.

“Barb! You made it!” Blitzø had a similar outfit to Loona, black jacket and slacks, with dark shades. “Everyone, this is my twin sister Barbie Wire. Barb, you know Loonie and Dina. That’s Millie and next to her is Moxxie; they’re my employees. And this -oh shit.” Blitzø stumbled over his words as he’d just been about to introduce his twin to his master. Barb crossed her arms, suspicion rising over Blitzø’s hesitancy.

“Allow me, Blitzy, darling.” Blitzy? Darling? The Goetia rose gracefully from his ornate chair. His hair feathers almost brushed the tent canopy as he stalked over. Then he bowed deeply, putting his face at eye level to the twins. “A pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Barb. I am Prince Stolas of Ars Goetia.” His deep pupil-less eyes looked sincerely pained as he continued in a voice only the imp twins could hear. “Although it may not mean much at this late day, I deeply apologize for the pain my father put you and yours through.”

Barb shifted uncomfortably. “Just Barb, none of that ‘Miss’ crap. And uh…yeah…” From Blitzø’s side of things, Stolas was as much a victim as he had been in the whole debacle. But she hadn’t been prepared to deal with all that right this second.

“Not the right time Floof,” her twin muttered at the royal. Floof? They have pet names for each other? Stolas gave a surprised hoot. “Right, we can discuss this later if need be. Today is a festival after all. Why don’t you all take a look around before the official event’s start?” Stolas shooed all the smaller demons out into the Wrathian heat. “You too Blitzy, have a bit of fun.” Barb noticed Blitzø’s grimace as the flicker of light shone under his collar.

“You sure you’ll be alright on your own? You remember what happened the second year you hosted,” Blitzø protested as the owl demon continued to usher the group out.

Stolas laughed. “Yes of course I remember darling. You did an excellent job dispatching those assassins and their leader is still making a splendid horse hitch at the edge of town. Ah ah ah!” He shook a long finger at the imp as Blitzø tried to interject. “I promise I shan’t move from this pavilion until you return and any attackers will find themselves encased in stone. I’m sure someone could use a fence post around here.” With that he pushed his lover outside and closed the tent flap with as much drama as Barb opened it.

“Bad idea to piss off royalty boss,” Moxxie called out. “Better do what the prince says.”

“Oh go fuck yourself Mox.”

—————

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[sjsmith56]

Away Mission - Part 1

Summary: Bucky deliberately ends his relationship with the Avengers and his girlfriend in order to undertake a secret undercover mission for Nick Fury.

Length: 2.9 K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, named OFC (not described), Nick Fury, Alphonso Mackenzie, Shuri

Warnings: Bucky deliberately being an asshole for a reason, angst, breakups.

💔 🙋🏻‍♂️

Part 1

Sloan

It was like a scene from a movie, a heartbreaking scene. The main female character, me, Sloan Hunter, respected writer, and once voted most likely to win a journalism award, finally realizes that she can no longer stay with the main male character, the man she loves. In this real-life scenario that wasn’t a movie, that part was played by one James Buchanan Barnes, former Howling Commando, former Winter Soldier, and now former Avenger, and former love of my life. My bags were packed, a friend was on her way to pick me up, and I was waiting for Bucky to say something, anything, to convince me to stay. Instead, he sat sprawled on the chair, his legs splayed out and wearing that look on his face that he often had that was a cross between a smirk and a scowl.

“I don’t know what you expect me to say, Sloan,” he said, his voice sounding like anything other than a man who once said he loved me. “I can’t change who I am. You knew my issues when we first got together, and I still have them.”

“If it was just your issues, I could stay,” I replied. “But it’s not, Bucky, and you know it. You’ve changed in the last few months. You’ve pulled away from me, isolated yourself from everyone who cares for you, and quite frankly I don’t even recognize you anymore. You won’t even talk about it with anyone.”

“Nothin’ to talk about,” he stated. “I quit the Avengers and there’s nothing more to be said.”

“Quit? Is that what you’re calling it?” I shook my head. “If you call deliberately wrecking your relationship with your best friend, then acting like an asshole to people who used to trust you to have their back, quitting, then you’re worse off than I thought. You were fired.”

He shrugged. “Not my circus anymore.” He stood up, poured himself a double scotch and lit a cigarette, even that act showing his disregard for me as I hated the smell. “I just got tired of trying to make people think I was worth their trust. There’s a lot of money to be made as a mercenary and I’m ready to start making money with my unique skill set. They don’t call them soldiers of fortune for nothing.”

My phone’s text alert went off and I checked it to learn my friend was downstairs. With nothing more to be said, I maneuvered my suitcases through the door and took the elevator down to the lobby. My girlfriend helped me load the suitcases in the trunk and I got in. I tried not to cry as she pulled the car away, but I was bawling like a baby by the next stop sign. Bucky didn’t even say goodbye when I left.

I was staying with her for a while but after that I didn’t know what I was going to do. Part of the reason I lived with Bucky was to allow me the opportunity to write my novel, without having to worry about a job, paying bills, and dealing with the little things of life. When Bucky asked me to move in with him, he swore that his Avengers pay would cover everything for both of us. Now we were both discarded like neither were of any consequence. I wasn’t just heartbroken; I was disappointed that the man I loved and admired had turned into someone I didn’t know any more.

Bucky

It was quiet in the apartment after she left and as empty as I felt inside. I took my phone out of my pocket and sent the confirmation text to Fury. Ready for pickup. He texted back within seconds. The crew is coming up to clear out the apartment. Everything will be put into storage. Take nothing with you, including your cellphone. I turned it off and waited for the knock on the door. When it came, I opened the door, receiving the security code from the man waiting there. Handing him my keys I left him and his crew to clear out my apartment. I went down to the lobby then out to the street and directly into the large black SUV waiting at the curb. Fury was in the back seat.

“We’ll keep Sloan under surveillance,” he said. “I already have a job opportunity set up for her with an operative in place there to keep her safe, and another in her friend’s apartment building. The friend’s apartment has been wired and when she moves into her own place it will be wired as well. If they come for her, we’ll have a team there within 30 seconds.”

“You better keep your end of the bargain,” I replied. “She’s the best thing that ever happened to me and doing this to her has been painful for both of us. Not to mention lying to my friends and colleagues. They may never trust me again if this doesn’t work.”

“It will work,” said the former director of SHIELD. “There’s no one else I can trust to do this; no one else who can convince people that he’s turned. Those videos from Madripoor proved that. As soon as they hit the internet, people said they knew it was all an act, that you faked being sorry for what the Soldier did.”

I didn’t react visibly but inside I was seething. Zemo really set me up for this with his suggestion that I pretend I was still the Winter Soldier when we were investigating the Flag Smashers. It was bad enough that the Wakandans were almost apoplectic over that charade. They were going to have a coronary over this scheme.

“Shuri knows the argument we had in public was a set-up, doesn’t she? It seemed awfully real from my perspective.”

“Yes, Shuri and King M’Baku are the only ones who know the truth. No one else does, well, except for my driver.”

He nodded towards the man behind the wheel, Alphonso Mackenzie, the current head of SHIELD, or what it evolved into after it was resurrected two years after I stopped being the Soldier, two years after Natasha Romanoff released all of SHIELD’s dirty laundry on the internet, including the fact it had been completely infiltrated by my former captors, HYDRA.

By the time we arrived at the safe house, I was almost second guessing my decision to take part in this mission. But I owed it to Shuri, and to her late brother, T’Challa to integrate myself with the team of mercenaries that were being assembled to break the Wakandan defences, setting up an attempt at a coup. The team was hired by a private security firm that was supposedly financed by a consortium of industrialists who wanted control of the vibranium in the country. When Fury first contacted me several months ago, alerting me to this attempt at violating Wakandan sovereignty, I was initially reluctant to be involved, not because I didn’t want to protect the country. I had worked hard to get past all that I had done as the Winter Soldier. The thought of giving all that up to successfully infiltrate this mercenary force did not appeal to me. Then Fury reminded me that he did much the same, when he authorized Natasha to reveal everything about SHIELD in order to cleanse it completely of the taint it had by HYDRA’s infestation of the organization he was associated with. We needed to find out who made up that consortium.

“By showing your willingness to do what is necessary to save Wakanda you will prove beyond all doubt and for all time that you are an honourable man,” he argued.

To make it believable that I was willing to turn my back on the Avengers and my life with Sloan, the plan was conceived for me to become increasingly jaded and cynical at remaining with that organization, apparently not a hard thing for me to accomplish. I picked fights with my colleagues, insulted them and their abilities, showed up late, left early, and made it known I was done being a good guy for the measly pay we received in comparison to those on the private payrolls of the corporations that seemed to operate with impunity. There was talk of rescinding my pardon but some of those same corporations had deep pockets and successfully convinced the politicians in those pockets to squash any talk of that. When they came looking for me, a former marine sergeant showed up at a coffee shop where I was, leaving a card with a phone number on it. I called, and the person on the other end of the line offered me a hefty pay check to lead one or more of their “private security teams” employed to look after the interests of a certain conglomerate as part of their international operations. I was in, or I would be once I underwent some enhancements at the SHIELD safe house before my rendezvous with my new employer.

We pulled into the driveway of a ramshackle garage that was part of a rundown house in one of the worst parts of New York City. The door to the garage opened automatically for us and closed behind the vehicle once we were inside. I went to get out, but Fury shook his head.

“Stay inside,” he said, as Mack sent a text from his phone. The garage was actually the top level of an elevator, and the platform we were on slowly moved down through several levels before opening onto a place that rivalled anything I had ever seen in a James Bond movie. When it stopped, Mack drove towards another door; this one slid open and closed behind us. Only then was I allowed to step out of the vehicle, with Fury and Mackenzie joining me. We entered a single door, walked down a long hallway and came to a lab, that equaled those I had seen in Wakanda.

“Sergeant Barnes,” said a familiar voice and I soon saw the smiling face of Shuri. “Welcome to the Wakandan Outreach Centre, or rather our secret lair version. I am going to make some adjustments to your arm and shoulder unit that will allow us to monitor you. There are also some rather innocuous devices that you can use to provide audio and video that will be monitored by one of us at all times.” I smiled weakly at her, as the last time I saw her she threatened to kill me. “We were very convincing to the general public at our last meeting, weren’t we?”

With that greeting and acknowledgement of what we both had to do to provide a convincing story, I was asked to remove my shirt and she disconnected my arm, putting it off to the side while she opened a panel on the back of my shoulder unit. As she worked, she described what she was doing.

“I am taking out a component and replacing it with an almost identical component that has been updated with a secure GPS tracker. It is a component that was manufactured at the same time as your arm and shoulder. The GPS tracker has been camouflaged to appear as a linking component for your arm. If they scan you it will show up as a communications nodule connecting your arm’s function to that of the shoulder unit. It will appear to be configured to work only to keep the two units communicating. I’ll install a similar nodule in the arm.”

“They won’t be able to tell that it’s giving my location?”

“No, it’s one of my inventions that I haven’t patented yet and there is nothing like it in the world,” she replied, as she finished inserting the component and replacing the panel on my shoulder. “It is set at a frequency that shouldn’t be detectable to any sort of sensor except for what I have here.”

She used another device to make it look like the component was soldered in place years ago when it was originally installed. Then she came around to my front, looking kindly at me. Gently, she ran her fingertips over the seam of the chest portion of the shoulder unit. Another access panel opened, and she inserted a slender tool into it coming out with a computer chip.

“This computer chip is a backup chip that reboots your arm in the event of a power surge,” she said, showing me the old chip. “You can see there was some damage to it after the battle you and Sam Wilson had with John Walker, when he still claimed the shield.”

“Did you have eyes on us then?”

She smiled mysteriously. “There are always eyes to hack into,” she said. “Sam’s Red Wing units had a record of the event and we saw the effect the power surge had on you. I’ll put an upgraded chip in that will withstand any surge. It will also have a unique feature that will allow for separate tracking. It’s been made to appear to have been manufactured shortly after that time, and I have created a record of you coming to one of our more visible Outreach Centres for the upgrade shortly after that incident just so that the timeline is consistent.”

She inserted the new chip and closed the access panel. While she worked on the arm, testing its functions and running updates on the systems that she changed the date of, Mack brought out a go bag of tactical gear and weapons for me.

“The tactical suit that you wore during the Flag Smashers has been duplicated,” he said. “The new version, which looks exactly the same visually has been outfitted with sensors that will record your surroundings in both audio and visual format. It will store everything you record and upload its data every time it is near a wifi source. When you are not in or near a wifi signal, or if they have implemented a dampening field it will appear to be a regular part of the uniform, just like something commonly used in military tactical uniforms. It is possible they may insist you wear their gear as part of their mercenary force. If they do, then the same sensors have been inserted into portions of your weapons. Of course, if you’re using the weapons, it will affect the quality of the recordings, but something is better than nothing.”

Shuri finished updating my arm and came over with it to re-insert it into the socket. After it clicked into place, I recalibrated it by swinging it backwards in an arc. Mack came with another bag of clothing for me, casual wear. That and the go bag with my suit and weapons were all I was taking with me.

“If you ever feel that you are in danger or when you have compiled all the evidence and require extraction, all you have to do is say “Reclaim my past,” said Fury. “The recording device will pick it up and we will institute a search and rescue of you immediately upon receipt. Since there is a possibility that your recording doesn’t upload right away you are authorized to use deadly force to protect yourself until extraction. I know you vowed not to kill again but I hope you see the need to stay alive.”

I nodded. It wasn’t something I wanted to do, no matter what, but if I had to kill someone to get away from danger then I would do so. With my arm back in place, I pulled my shirt on and grabbed the two bags. Shuri placed her hand on my forearm, squeezing it before quickly patting my cheek, as a goodbye and good luck. We returned to the vehicle and went back up the elevator to the street. After confirming we weren’t being followed, they dropped me off on a street corner and I walked a couple of blocks before hailing a cab. The driver dropped me off at the rendezvous point that had been agreed upon and I waited.

Two hours later a white panel van pulled up and the passenger window was rolled down. A man pointed a gun at me.

“Get in the back,” he said, as the side panel slid open.

I did as I was told and stepped inside. As the door slid shut a black bag was put over my head and my bags taken from me.

“Sit down, shut up, and relax,” said another voice. “We’ll drive for a while to make sure you weren’t followed then we’ll take you to our transport.”

“You know I could kill all of you without breaking a sweat,” I said.

“We know,” replied the voice. “But you won’t. If you care about her, you’ll do as you’re told.”

With that threat I knew that they already had an upper hand. The “her” was Sloan and they probably knew where she was. If they knew that then it meant they at least had eyes on her and possibly had their own operative near her. So, I said nothing, and settled back against the side of the van, waiting for the next part of this operation to unfold.

Part 2

Short Fiction Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Please support the author by reblogging.

[anxietyishere]

!PICTURES REMOVED FOR NOW SO I CAN GET A MORE PROFESSIONAL VERSION AS MY ART STYLE HAS GOTTEN MUCH BETTER AND IM KINDA EMBARRASSED ABOUT HOW MY ART USED TO LOOK!

ALSO I DONT DO COMMISSIONS! SORRY! IM SAYING THIS CUS SOMEONE ASKED AND BECAUSE TUMBLRS WEBSITE IS LESS OPTIMIZED IT WONT LET ME RESPOND AND I DONT WANT TO USE MY PHONE'S SPACE ON DOWNLOADING THE APP;-;

The reason I don't wanna do commissions is because I get burnt out REAL easy if something is too complicated, or too basic, plus my hand cramps pretty easily on occasion which gets really painful if I keep trying to force myself, maybe in the future tho when there's less stuff going on irl, :3

If you are; a spammer, pro-shipper, pedophile, racist, sexist, homophobic, or a zoophile, !DO NOT INTERACT WITH MY BLOG! you will get an instant block & report if you do.

!BASIC RULES!

1: respect others no matter their gender, sexuality or race. (This includes respecting therian's, furries, and people who use neo pronouns!!)

2: only curse around people who also curse or are comfortable with it, (I personally curse quite a bit, so I'll put this here to warn anyone just in case they don't like hearing people curse,)

3: do NOT harass anyone, (you can share your opinion, but be calm and don't be an asshole. Or just not talk to the person you dislike as alternatives.)

4: do NOT show any nsfw content to me or any other minors following my blog, (suggestive is fine, but no NSFW videos or art.)

!WARNINGS!

I have multiple mental health issues, so I often take random breaks, so sometimes I'll be on and post a lot, but then disappear for a bit, and unless I say otherwise, I am likely just tired, bored, or burnt out during my periods of not posting.

I have ADHD, Dyslexia and Autism.

Also, here's the fandoms I'm currently in:

FNAF security breach

Slugterra

Invader zim

Omori

Bendy and the dark revival

Breath of the wild/Tears of the kingdom

The Sun and Moon show

The Monty and Foxy show

Murder drones

The amazing digital circus

Ever after high

Monster high

And whatever else I forgot to mention that I might add later! :D

✨FACTS ABOUT ME✨ >:D

I'm nonbinary, demiromantic, and Omnisexual!(With a slight preference for women, and androgynous people,)

My favorite color is green! But sometimes changes to yellow, certain shades of brown, blue, pink, or purple!

I have scoliosis, so I got a funky spine >:}

My favorite animals are Eels, snakes, opossums, ravens, racoons, frilled sharks, Geese, ducks, moths, and lizards! :D

[juggling-responsibilities]

Act 1, Part 2 - Neath Dark Borders

Prologue segments in video games inspired by and adapted from tabletop games are rough. You have yourself in what appears to be a normal celebration, then bad things happen. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with the trope - I'm just pointing out that if you ever get isekai'd into a medieval fantasy world that's about to have a harvest festival, run.

Where were we? Ah, yes. We've fallen and we cannot get back up.

Let's Recap:

Deskari, the Lord of Locusts and the prime asshole that attacked during the Day of the City in Kenabres, sundered the market square after almost effortlessly murdering the silver dragon Terendelev that defended it. He did this because I used a random if distinctively voiced guard's crossbow to shoot him in the shoulder with a Perfectly Normal Crossbow Bolt, which appeared to actively hurt him and brought his attention directly onto me. I am certain this will not come up later.

That brings us to the cave system we now find ourselves in. Gorgeously lit by phosphorescent crystals and bioluminescent flora, the caves are also littered by the bodies of the fallen, sections of cobblestone and brick from the streets and buildings that fell, and the skittering of cave creatures, likely disturbed by the ruckus and defensive of their warrens.

I also still do not have my confiscated armor and weapons, whatever they may have been. But my leopard, Maple, is here - I think I'll be okay as long as she's around.

That's part of the character background I put together, by the way. I am a circus performer, as I've mentioned - an axe thrower to be specific, although I am now currently without any of my axes. This crossbow is nice but not ideal. But for whatever reason, I have a circus leopard with me. Maybe I rescued her. (Maybe she rescued me.)

It doesn't take me long before I stumble upon another pair of survivors. One of them, a young woman in a sheer mountain of armor, calls my attention over to assist the other, a woman trapped under some rubble.

It is in fact two of the people we saw up above, which is reasonable because we were all in the same place when the demons attacked.

(I'm not going to explain all the tabletop mechanics, since chances are if you're reading this, you already know what the game is.)

Hilariously enough, when I was building Quintessa, I didn't put any points into either of these skills that would help, and I'm not going for an evil playthrough even though I did put points into Diplomacy. That said, 12 might be hard to get on a straight untrained roll, but not impossible, so I rolled the dice (har) and gave Athletics a shot.

Thankfully, my circus training helped in this endeavor, and between the two of us, Seelah and I managed to get the rubble off the other woman.

(Because this is still technically tutorial mode, even if you fail the checks, Seelah is able to handle it on her own. It won't be until later that failed skill checks have more of an impact on what happens.)

Newly rescued but still massively injured from the fall and from having her leg crushed by half a building, the woman introduces herself as Anevia Tirabade, a member of the Eagle Watch and part of the festival security. She states that she was actually trying to keep an eye on potential demonic worshippers, and while she doesn't explicitly say so right now, she's basically Spymaster General.

Meanwhile, Seelah is a paladin of Iomedae - the same god that Deskari was railing against - and is in town specifically to join the fight against the demons and the Worldwound. Good news, Seelah! You found some.

And with that, we have our first party member.

Anevia also technically joins the party, but she's not controllable, so I'm not counting her. She does follow along and shoot things with her bow, though, which for someone with a broken leg is pretty good.

Anevia's good people. I like her a lot.

🕵️‍♀️: "Yeah, things are lookin' grim enough, but don't lose heart. Wardstone or no, dragon or no, Kenabres will never give in - simple as. Well, we've introduced ourselves, what about you? 🪓: "I'm a traveler, and I just wound up here by chance." 🕵️‍♀️: "Call me superstitious if you want, or maybe cynical, but I just don't believe in chance or coincidences." 🛡: "How many stories 'round the tavern table have started with those very words..." 🕵️‍♀️: "Right enough. I have this habit, see: any time somebody starts yakking about blind chance, it always turns out that the thing was as far from a quirk of fate as you could want. Sorry, don't take it personal, like. Now then, I'll hobble my way outta here somehow. The city ain't far, only thirty paces or so... that's if you're going straight up, of course. I'm afraid we're gonna have to go the long way 'round." 🛡: "To summarize: there are three of us, with five working legs, three pairs of decent hands, two clear heads and one made of wood - that's mine."

And with that, we're off to try to find a way back topside.

I kind of want to take a moment and focus on that last conversation, though, because I feel like it perfectly encapsulates who they are, or at least who we're supposed to think of them as. Narrative structure states that any introduction to a character should give us everything we need to know about them in their first appearance, with everything after that either reinforcing or subverting this conception as necessary. It's not exclusive to this game by any stretch - it's a very fundamental concept and is probably one of the first taught in any creative writing class. But it's more the execution that matters, because as basic of a concept as it is, it's also very easy to fuck up if you don't know what you're doing.

Anevia was introduced to us earlier in the day, asking questions while being friendly. Here, she's still being friendly, but letting us know a bit more directly that she's keeping an eye on us.

Seelah, on the other hand, is bold, boisterous, and self-effacing - personality traits that don't usually go together for anyone who isn't Vash the Stampede. She puts herself down while also pushing the image of herself as pretty darn great, and just like the Humanoid Typhoon it's a fantastic way to deflect attention, to let you focus on the image she projects so that you don't poke too closely.

It's interesting how this is something that both she and Anevia are doing, but from two completely different angles. The fact that they put these two characters together is just absolutely exquisite, in my opinion.

Some ransacking of a weapons cache that fell down occurs - Seelah says it's Prelate Hulrun's confiscated weapons but I don't see my throwing axes in there so I bet he kept the good shit for himself - and we also find some glowing silver scales - some physical remains of Terendelev. I take them - they are an on-use consumable to revive fallen companions, but I've got the "Dead companions rise after combat is over" option selected from the game settings and thus I will not be using them. Instead, I will keep them as a sad reminder of a silver dragon who I did not get to know very well.

Of course, there's no time for quiet reflection - we have to get back up to the city. So, as always, we press on.

It doesn't take us long until we find another person - a woman, hunched over something else in the dark. She is dressed like a noble, but she's covered in blood and dirt. Understandable, of course - she fell the same way we did. The body at her feet, however...

🩸: "I don't know. He must have been in the square when disaster struck. I tried to revive him, but he was already dead, sadly." 🛡: "He didn't get these wounds from the fall... Be on your guard. Whatever killed him likely hasn't gone far."

This is Camellia. She probably didn't stab that guy. And since she's joining our party...

I've got a good feeling about her.

But yeah, that guy? Unfortunately, that's Aravashnial. The guy who apparently is a questgiver in the original tabletop Adventure Path. Camellia, who is an original character to this adaptation, was properly introduced standing over his corpse, which is definitely not as notable for people who didn't play the Adventure Path but for those who do know: This is the tone we're setting for the game. We are off the fucking rails from word one.

And honestly? Best way to do it. And since I am one of those people who didn't know that, I get to experience this completely fresh.

With that, we are on our way.

[the-firebird69]

The New York Times

Farmers Clash With Police and Macron at Paris Agricultural Fair

15 hours ago

And this has been good for you and I because everyone's such a huge a****** takes the place of each other yeah we were yelling at each other a lot and Westford and the Trump swing the house probably causing it it sucks they were in our house with us causing us to argue and it was kind of a messy place but our friend here likes it my nephew actually said we were busy and we're doing things doesn't matter if it doesn't come out perfect I kind of like that cuz people made fun of us what he says is you have this huge party area and really it's kind of what life is all about forest and we like to do that because people get along better he noted it too in westborough Shrewsbury we're having parties and fights kind of went away even during the party and it kind of screwed around with us and we changed our style and we lived cooped up in a little house and he gave me an idea to have like a game house it's like a party house for just us mostly it's really a bar but we would close it down and we do it quite often it was great it was back up again but I'm not the prime Minister it's Justin yes a lot less than you used to I got the s*** beat out of him so he wants the program and everyone's after it and it's freaking weird because it's such a mean business and everyone else wants to do almost anything and pretty soon they'll be a war and Tom Cruise is involved yet fat recently he got really fat he's eating and eating and you can't get big he can't get tall and stuff and his grandson is having trouble and it's probably the private sex still in the body and he goes and change the hormone he's his way of secure really for Prilosec and he thinks it's asparagus a little and some other things and it really does work the St John's work it makes you nuts though really a monster topic and Hera does that quite often. And now she's telling me to run out of time so you're out there was fighting over and I think I wore my develop there's too many assholes it's really severe and we didn't go up to the carnival circus or whatever it's kind of weird I think we lose possession and they go somewhere else and it's not them in Hellboy boy is that annoying but they do get moved. And we think all the way to Egypt and he says does anyone put together that there's like three weeks left and that they might end up on the other side of the Sun and I say this wow that freaking blew what he said

I guess I'm still tripping and we used to do that in college he didn't like it and didn't really do anything strange and he didn't really trip he said my eyes I can I can see in the dark now I don't know if it's supposed to do that it's a sign of being some kind of mutant when poison enhances something and his grandpa says that venom makes him strong it makes you strong too that's stupid doing acid makes you see better. He says I wasn't drinking too much with it cuz I said not to and I don't know about you but that's a bad trip even though he's not tripping cuz other people look like pieces of s*** in the same dumb things that he can see it and hear it very vividly... It's almost the worst contrast and situation you could ever want he told a few people and they told a couple people were all laughing our asses off and he said they're going well that's a lot of fun it was funny. Yeah this is what the show is like I don't have much else to talk about I drove that modified firebird around and people loved it and they want the kid and we're selling it it's not massively expensive and it makes it go really really fast

Crissy

It's really funny is we found out it's like killing us or something and it makes you trip because your brain is getting damaged or something and here he is sober is a freaking door watching this becoming stupider I can't believe how weird that is some sort of very deep irony and it's like the situation I'm in whereas Trump is going to continuously attack in a moment and he's an addict bjA is too and it's going to ruin us, he says he's helping me out with the math right now it must be the LSD and yeah that's stupid. And down here he's sober he says it's venomous in the water and sometimes in the food you can see us being real stupid this is terrible

Bg yeah I also do Talladega nights and it's horrible

This other movies coming up he doesn't want to do and they're terrifying for people and they're not really all that complicated these guys and they're going through hell and the max don't get it it's no they do they're not really to blame they're real stupid but we're holding them accountable and what's going on in France's horrible but they're going to go and in Massachusetts too pretty soon all over the world with the money and people who are entombed and Tommy f who has their bodies and brains coming up soon very soon as it started this is a real fight between the cops and agriculture department in people who who and they want to ruin it and it's trumpsters trying to weaken them and it's not working and Europe is kind of backing them and these trumps are going to get very hurt. It's a very odd situation it looks like Biden and Stan are used to try and go after the two and they're using some trumps and a lot of bja it does make sense that's who's on the island but what Tom Cruise there and Stan it makes you think that it's much later than it is but they don't have a huge Force but still it looks like they have nobody there and they're just there as individuals it's really odd it's going to happen within a day or two or a few days and we sort of get that they're kind of forced to and that makes more sense it's kind of stupid if they succeeded the job is over so Trump still thinks he has the AI and it's sitting in France

Olympus

[sa-gt-tarrius]

the tindliest trunabout on ao3 part the 20rd

totally legit no cap

“Oh no,” says Kilometer Edgelord. “A murder has occurred here. Not only that, it seems that Pinhead Wormbrain has shrunken down to a minuscule size. This is awful. Whatever shall we do.”

“I have a boot,” says Mayonnaise as she holds up her booted hand. “Should I hit someone?”

“I have a money,” says Gumboot as he holds up his moneyless hand. “Except you took it, sir. And now I have no more moneys.”

“I have a cracked rib and a concussion,” says the capital of the state of Arizona. “Can I go home?”

Emolord thinks about chess for a few hours. Then he nods. “It’s settled, then. We will solve this mystery using our gumption and combined charisma of 3. Gumfoot, where is Milfred van Halen right now?”

“He has an appointment kicking puppies until noon.”

“Then let’s waste no time.”

They all go into public phone booths and change into their hero outfits. The hero outfits are the same as their normal outfits. Except for Pinhead. Pinhead becomes a shitty samurai.

“My name is Lipstick,” says a woman who is also a flower and is also in jail. “I have been arrested for flower crimes.”

Kilometer’s lack of a soul doesn’t faze him. “The power of friendship compels me to tell you my secrets. Here is my social security number. I also have a dog.” The dog is named Piss. Kilometer is a horrible human being.

“Mayonnaise left me alone for two minutes. I broke my leg, contracted a deadly virus, and lost my wallet. This is a horrible day.” Penis begins to almost-cry. Except he doesn’t cry, because crying is illegal for lawyers. “Is that a raisin? I’m going to fight a raisin.”

“That’s not a raisin,” says Kilometer with a gasp. “That’s my father, Milfred van Halen. He is a prosecutor and a murderer. But I don’t get to know about the murder part until case 4 of the first game.”

“Raisins don’t deserve rights. He is verbally abusing his raisin son, Mildew Eggwich. This makes me very angry, even though I am incredibly small and would lose a fight against a cup.”

“I’m a prune, actually,” says Milfred van Halen. “I will kill you. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

Mayochup tries to solve the mystery of the shrinking Penis by watching TV. This goes about as well as anyone expected.

Gumfoot can only afford ramen noodles for dinner. He sells his house to afford a bag of chips. Won’t somebody please think of Gummy?

“I love you,” says Penis to Kilometer. It’s a heartwarming confession. I’m going to puke.

Kilometer is an android, a learning computer, and doesn’t understand the concept of love. Or maybe he does understand and he’s just an asshole. Kilometer bitchslaps Penis in reply to his confession of love. Edgelord’s coping mechanism is slapping people, unfortunately. His therapist is helping him find healthier ways to express his emotions.

“I’m the obvious villain,” says Shitty Stew. “I steal money. I stole money from a man with gum on his shoe. And now I’ll steal Mr. Frillometer’s life with this baton.”

Luckily, Edgelord has a taser. This is concerning for multiple reasons. He wins the 1v1 brawl. Miley Cyrus dissociates for a little while and summons the police with his telepathy.

“How are we supposed to end this?” asks Penis Arizona. “The fic isn’t even over yet. There isn’t a good way to finish this chapter.”

“What’s a chapter?”

“Just make a joke or something. That’ll do it.”

Mayonnaise hits Ellegy with a boot. “Miley Circus is a joke. That’s how we'll end it.”

“Gender.”

[rorywritesjunk]

Let’s be one another’s present tense

Buggy ‘rescues’ you from an abusive situation, and after a less than stellar introduction, he has you audition for his crew to keep you safe. You want safety, security, and joining a circus seems like the best idea.

Rating: R-ish for now. Warning: Swearing, brief nudity, snarkiness to one another. Talks of past abuse. Storms. Buggy is both soft and aggressive in this chapter. Reader likes to call him an asshole. A/N: So after I wrote this chapter there was a storm while I was at work and a damn lightning bolt struck near the building and let me tell you, hearing that while in a warehouse is very loud and terrifying. Lights flickered, windows shook, and everything trembled and I don't want to do that again.

Title comes from “Crater Lake” by Lady Lamb.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 (NC-17) + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 (NC-17) + Chapter 16 (NC-17) + Chapter 17 TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @neuvilleteismybby @fluffybunnyu @sinning-23 @the-angriest-angel @ane5e

Chapter 4

It only took four months since joining until you ended up in Buggy’s bed, but not in a way you had actually expected (though you honestly didn’t anticipate ending up in his bed in any way).

The storm outside was loud. Wind howling, rain pouring, and then there was the thunder, startling you awake. Storms were always your least favorite things growing up, always wondering if your home would blow away, and you remembered being at sea once when a storm suddenly came out of nowhere, striking the fishing boat and taking your uncle away from you as a child. Since then you tried to hide yourself away during storms, not wanting to risk it taking you away.

You covered your head with the blanket, tossing and turning as you tried to find some comfortable position on your cot that minimized the noise, but no matter what you could hear the pounding rain against the tent and the wind threatening to knock everything down. You shut your eyes tightly and took a deep breath, trying to relax as you wondered if you could hide under Buggy’s bed for the night.

“What the fuck is going on over there?” Your captain grumbled from his bed. “You’re as loud as the shit outside.”

“Shush, I can’t sleep.” You said, voice muffled under the blankets. “It’s too loud and… and I don’t like storms.”

He groaned in frustration and you heard movement coming from his bed. You peaked out from under the safety of your blankets to see him sitting up in his bed, covers thrown back as he gestured to a spot beside him. You hesitated, contemplating refusing the offer, but a loud crack of thunder sounded like it was right outside your room, shaking everything and before you knew it you were in his bed and pulling the covers over yourself as you stuck your head under a pillow. 

He didn’t say anything and laid back down, turning to face you. His arm draped over your side, resting his hand on your back. He wasn’t scared, you figured, being a pirate who spent time at sea. He probably thought you were dumb for this, cowering from just a bit of troubled weather, but you knew how easily things were destroyed by something like this, and you hoped he would keep his mouth shut, not make any sort of comment, because you may end up getting your tongue out if you snapped at him at this moment.

“Storms are terrible.” He mumbled sleepily. “I don’t like them either.”

“My uncle drowned in one.” You told him as you pulled your head out from under the pillow to look at him. “Swept into the water while we were out at sea.” You sighed softly and closed your eyes. “I was ten and the storm came out of nowhere. We didn’t have time to get back to land, and he made sure we got below deck before a huge wave hit our boat and took him.” 

Your captain pulled you closer to him, not speaking as he listened. No one liked being at sea during the storm, not with the dangers that were out there. It didn’t take much to tear apart a family when the sea decided to take someone home with her. 

“Well, no ones getting washed out from the tent, so go to sleep.” He sighed as he fell silent for a moment. You nodded but then he spoke again, voice much quieter. It was just the two of you so he figured he could ask after all this time, “What did your ex do to you?”

Oh, well, that was… not a question you expected him to ask. You had wanted to put that behind you, but apparently Buggy didn’t. You opened your eyes and looked up at him. It was a nice view to have, looking up towards your captain, his hair down and face clean of makeup. With a shrug you looked down, focusing on the shirt he was wearing. It was a thready shirt with holes and seams coming undone. You found a loose thread and gave it a gentle tug.

“Hit me, threw things at me. Lots of yelling.” You told him. “I was his third wife, the other two also didn’t like me but I didn’t like them either.” The thread came loose after you gave it another tug. “The night before you came, one of them insisted that I had ruined a dress he bought her so he hit me in the face. He let them beat me with brooms and whatever else they could grab.”

Buggy didn’t say anything and you wished you just shut up and pretended to fall asleep quickly. Was he going to pity you or think you were unable to stand up for yourself? You could, you fought back against them and you had fought against him when you first met. You weren’t weak from the abuse, it was the situation you were put in against your will. 

You pulled away from him suddenly and rolled over so your back was to him. “They were home when you arrived, but they were scared so that’s why I was in the office with him. I guess they thought if you wanted to kill someone it would be me.” You rubbed your nose and sighed. “As far as I know they were still at the house when you…”

Buggy wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back against his chest. You tensed up for a moment but he didn’t do anything past that, just resting his chin on your shoulder for a moment. “Glad I blew the fuckers up then.”

“Yea…” You nodded and turned back around in his arms. Was it weird being in bed with your captain with his arms around you? You wanted to ask why he was doing this, if he wanted something in return, but a loud rumble of thunder hit outside just as a particularly violent gust of wind hit the tent, startling you into grabbing the front of his shirt and hiding your face against his chest. 

“You’re safe.” He sighed. “But if you tell any of the crew about this I’ll cut your tongue out.”

You nodded, gripping his shirt tighter as you shut your eyes. Maybe the storm would pass and you could get some sleep. 

~

Despite it sounding like everything was blowing away the night before, it was a relief to find little damage outside. The tent was still standing, no one was washed away, and you were able to sleep through the night. You woke up the same way you fell asleep: curled up against your captain, though he ended up more sprawled out in bed. He eventually woke up and got dressed, but you didn’t scold him for being naked in front of you this time, and he at least had the decency to have his back to you as he changed clothes.

You were starting to get a bit too comfortable, you decided, because as he sat down to apply his makeup for the day, you got up to change clothes, keeping your back to him as you stripped down completely. He was sitting in front of a mirror as he did his morning routine, and there was complete silence coming from him (he usually did a running commentary about what he was doing as well as rambling on about what he wanted to see you do with your routine). You did a quick glance in his direction, seeing him staring at your reflection in the mirror. 

You decided not to push it and you quickly put your clothes on before folding your sleep clothes and setting them on your cot. You ran your fingers through your hair, hoping your bedhead wasn’t too bad. It was nice to have a little less to do in the morning since you didn’t have to brush out your hair now, just run a comb through it. The sides were starting to grow back out and you wondered if you should ask Buggy for a trim even though you swore you didn't want him coming near you again with his knives, there was no one else you wanted to ask.

“Gettin’ a bit long there, isn’t it?” He said as he returned to makeup. 

“Kinda.” You said as you finished getting dressed. “I could use a trim.”

“Hm, tonight.” Buggy told you as he finished up. “I also want to try out some makeup on you. I may have something that’s waterproof.”

“Makeup?” You frowned. “Why?”

“It’s hard to see your face in the water.” He turned in his seat to look at you. It was always nice seeing the freshly done makeup on him, before it smudged and faded throughout the day. You felt your breath hitch when you took in the sight of him in his top, his hair still down as his arm rested on the back of the chair as he looked at you. It wasn’t anything spectacular but you liked the casualness of these interactions. “The audience has to be able to see that gorgeous face of yours.”

“Gorgeous?” You repeated as your face heated up. No, he used that word for anyone, it didn’t really mean much when he said it to you, so you shook your head and cleared your throat. “If there’s something that won’t come off in the water, okay, but I don’t know if it will work.”

Buggy grinned. “Oh, we can find something, cupcake, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

And there it was again, just saying something casual like that but it made your heart skip a beat. You didn’t say anything but nodded before leaving the room to go find breakfast. Buggy usually showed up nearing the end, after the rest of the crew ate, but ever since you had breakfast with him shortly after you arrived and saw the few things he seemed to enjoy eating the most you made sure to fix him a plate of food first before getting your own. There were also times he’d get caught up talking to someone about something that you’d have to remind him that he actually needs to eat and not just poke at his food.

And sure enough, as soon as you finished making him a plate he showed up and took a seat near Cabaji.  You set it in front of him before going to fix your own as well as a cup of tea. Once you sat down you noticed he hadn’t even touched his food yet, so you gave him a nudge and pointed at his plate as you started to eat, giving him a look of if you don’t start eating i’ll end up eating it, which seemed to work because he eventually started eating, carrying on his conversation with Cabaji like normal. 

Once breakfast was consumed you had chores to get done, which was actually just washing the dishes and helping clean the kitchen. Buggy sometimes stuck around to talk with you once everyone else left, and this morning wasn’t any different as he leaned back in his seat to watch you as you cleaned.

“What, Captain?” You asked as you scraped some of the half eaten food into a trash can. 

“You need to add something to your routine.” He said as he looked you over. “Just not sure what…”

You shrugged as you piled dishes on the counter before filling the sink with hot, soapy water. “I dunno, maybe handcuff me and see if I can get free before I drown?”

He gave you a look, he didn’t like it when you said that word or made any hints at it, so you cleared your throat and tried again.

“Okay, sorry, before the timer is up.”

“Better.” He said coolly, but he shook his head. “No, I don’t like the risk for you.”

“I’d be fine.” You shrugged. “How is it any different than some of the risky shit the others do?”

“They’ve been training for years.” Buggy pointed out. “You, on the other hand, have not.”

You frowned and looked over at him. “I’m sorry, did you miss the part when I gave you my tragic backstory and said how I used to dive into the water to collect things for my family’s fishing business? I can hold my breath for over three minutes, and if I work on it I can aim for four minutes.”

“No! I don’t want you putting yourself at risk like that!” He shot back. “Do I have to spell it out for you? N-O means no fucking way, cupcake. You don’t have the experience they do, okay, you could easily drown in that tank and I don’t want that happening!”

“Oh, because you don’t want to ruin the show for your captive audience?” You snapped. “How about let me be target practice for Cabaji’s knives then since you wanted to do that to me in the first place!”

“That’s safer than you being in the water!” Buggy exclaimed. “At least Cabaji wouldn’t hurt you unless I told him to!”

Your jaw dropped. “Why would you even think of telling him to hurt me?”

“I wouldn’t!” 

“You just said-”

“Stop being a diva and listen, I wouldn’t tell him to, got it? But if I did-”

“You’re an asshole!” You splashed dirty dish water at him. “Oh, don’t let me take a risk of getting hurt but you’re happy to let someone else throw sharp, pointy objects at me! At least I could get pulled to safety if I was handcuffed in water, you know! If I was strapped to that spinning wheel of his I’d bleed out before you could help me!”

“Stop overreacting!” He snapped as he jumped out of his chair to avoid the water. 

“Then stop telling me what to do!” 

The two of you stared at each other in silence. You weren’t sure of the look in Buggy’s eyes after you said that, because he just smiled, chuckling softly as he approached you, backing you up against the counter. Both arms were on either side of you to trap you there, one hand resting on the counter while the other popped off and went to your face. You shut your eyes, waiting for the strike, but instead he grabbed you by your chin, gripping you just tight enough to keep your head still as he looked at you.

“Someone forgot who was in charge.” He said sweetly in a sing-song way as you opened your eyes to look at him. “Cupcake, babe, my sweets, I’m the Captain of this little operation, remember? The one in charge, who you’re supposed to listen to.” 

You inhaled sharply as you tried to lean away from his touch, finding it to be a little overwhelming having him close to you like this. This was completely different from the night before when he held you so gently during the storm. This is how he was when you first met him, shouting at each other in the office of your ex before Buggy stole you away. 

“Don’t forget.” He patted you on the cheek before pulling away and walking out of the room, leaving you feeling both confused and excited by how he touched you just then.

[saphirered]

Every Second Counts

A little Mollymauk x acrobat!reader that’s been floating around my head. I hope it turned out well. 

You’d been with the circus for a while. You’re part of the family. You are the prime example of agility over strength in appearance but that doesn’t take away from the fact you have muscle control some may ever only dream of. While you are less of a contortionist you’re still very flexible. You could say you’re more of an acrobat. Your circus family is also aware you have an affinity for being sticky-fingered. Your light and quick movement has helped you lighten the pockets of individuals many times before. You have the face of a talker. Attractive as your tongue is quick and you are not afraid to put that charm to good use. All these traits gained you the interest and undivided attention of Mollymauk Tealeaf. 

The man knows little shame and doesn’t hold back when he’s actually telling the truth. He was never shy to make his attraction to you clear but never put pressure on you or have expectations. If you liked him, then you did, and if not so be it. If you told him you liked him, great, if not, that’s fine. If you wanted him not to be affectionate towards you, hug you, sit close to you, pull you into his lap or sit down in yours, he won’t. Molly is aware there’s a difference between pushing the line and crossing a boundary. He’s respectful of those hard boundaries and won’t cross them. 

You’d catch Molly sitting in the audience section of the tent while you were rehearsing for the night when he wasn’t on duty for something. When he was, and Gustav would find him he’d be scolded and told to go back to work, many things to be done before the shows. You’d blow him a kiss when Gustav would threaten to get Yasha or Bo to drag him out, a threat the man would make good on and therefor Molly had to leave one way or another. He’d prefer to leave with his dignity somewhat intact. 

Whenever he could, he’d enlist you to go into town with him to attract an audience for the show. If you had other things to do priorly, they’d somehow already been done or someone else would be doing them by the time you were ready to do them. You had to compliment Mollymauk’s efforts just to spend more time with you. Trickery, bribery and other methods of persuasion were not out of the question to reach this goal. You had to compliment his efforts. 

You never minded any of these things as you enjoyed spending time with Molly. The only hindrance standing in your way had always been your responsibilities and him changing them so they would align, had to be a blessing. Whenever he was successful persuading Orna, one of the most difficult to persuade to switch with, he’d pick you up and spin you around proclaiming proudly he had done it again. 

Your relationship is very organic and in the moment. You’d say you’re in a relationship but neither of you would say you’re boyfriend/girlfriend, husband/wife, partners, friends with benefits or anything alike. You’re you and he’s him. You care about each other, love each other, you spend time together, hug, cuddle and kiss. You’re affectionate, sleep in the same spaces, and sleep together. You do all the stuff couples would do but neither of you ever cared to define your relationship. You’re you and he’s him and that’s all that mattered. This arrangement works for both of you and neither of you feel the need to define or change it.

You’re practicing as the tent is being set up by the heavy lifters. Camp is already sorted so you found yourself with some free time you put to use to warm up a bit. Using one of the smaller tall poles secured you climb up onto the top. You stand on one leg the other parallel to the ground, jump and switch legs, one leg up straight into the air moving your body down until your palms touch the pole. You move your balancing leg up as well and shift the weight to your arms, kicking legs forward, backward and repeat one-handed. You switch to balancing on your lower arms and keep going through the motions to warm up. You hear a whistle. 

“While I’d hate to interrupt, Gustav says you’re with me, dear.” The familiar lavender tiefling smiles looking up at you. You sit down one leg over the other and smile back at him.

“Oh really? Gustav said so? How much did that cost you?” You say innocently. 

“Only three days of dishes and I washing Desmond’s costume after closing night.” Well, at least that wasn’t the worst. 

“Did Gustav tell you I’m free until tonight or did he forget to mention that.” Your smile changes into a grin as Mollymauk frowns.

“That bastard…” You hear him whisper under his breath at the realisation he got roped into cleaning duty for nothing. 

“Come on, let me make good on your deal.” You wrap your legs around the pole and lean backwards. Molly lifts his hands above his head high enough for you to grab them. You hold on and release the pole balancing solely on his hands as he takes a few steps back before you flip over and land on your feet on facing Molly. 

“Thank you. Shall we?” You kiss his cheek grabbing his arm and pulling him along towards the town. 

——————————————————————————

You’d been informed the town houses some dirty rich folks and it’s noticeable by the fine silks and flashy jewellery. Good reason to have increased the ticket price for the shows. Molly and you go around talking to groups and individuals alike, handing out flyers and persuading them to come see the show. You managed to get some excited folks to come see the show but for some more hardheaded individuals you had to throw your charm into the ring. A husky voice, fake interest, a touch of the arm and a bat of the eyelashes got you very far. 

One rather grumpy individual took a bit more to persuade and neither of you were willing to put in the effort after the good round you’d already had. But you did catch a flashy ruby ring and golden bracelet. With their attitude you found yourself justified to relieve them of these possessions during your pitch, for their own good of course. Only later the mention of that person’s name confirmed them to be an entitled asshole day and night, justifying your actions even more in your mind. Molly knew you took something on your little field trip but didn’t know what and you intended to keep it that way.

The night after the show Molly is cleaning dishes with the water from a nearby stream. You make your way over inspecting the stack of clean bowls, plates and cups.

“Came to see my good work?” He scrubs another bowl, checking it and putting it with the pile. 

“No. Desmond told me some of them want a second round after all so they need their dishes back. Mollymauk groans, takes the towel and throws it at you. You catch it before it hits you. 

“Rude! I’m just kidding, well half kidding. I managed to persuade them to leave the leftovers for breakfast tomorrow to spare you more dishes.” You take a bowl from the stacked clean dishes and begin drying it. Molly bumps his hip into yours. 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re the real devil between the two of us.” Molly hands you the next dish stealing a kiss. 

“Oh shush. You know I’m a saint.” 

“A saint of thievery, deception and trickery.” He points an accusatory finger at you and you slap it away.

“But a saint no less.” You counter grabbing the pointing finger. Molly pulls you closer and kisses your hand giving you one of his trademark charming looks.

“Are you going to tell me what you took earlier today?” He leans in close placing one hand on your hip and swaying slightly in a dancing motion. You deliberate for a second before you hold his chin between your fingers until he’s millimetres away from your face.

“Back to the dishes Mollymauk.” The demeanour drops and you the victor of this little game between the two of you as you take a step back, pick up the cloth once more and continue drying the dishes. The accusatory finger returns and pokes your side.

“Hey, it was a team effort so I have a claim to fifty percent of what you got!” You innocently continue your job, or well, Molly’s job.

“Whatever you say, darling Mollymauk.” You grin as he flicks water at you. 

“You are infuriating.” He exclaims as you finish the dishes and return them to their place.

——————————————————————————

The next few days consisted of Mollymauk continuously bringing up ‘his share’ of the find but you played along innocently talking around in circles. You had plans and when they’re completed you’ll share them but for now, a secret they will remain. He had tried going through your things when unpacking some things for you, something not done secretly but you humoured him and let him try anyway. Coming to the conclusion it wasn’t among your things and definitely not on your person, or he’d definitely have known, he tried to interrogate you to see if you had given it to someone else to hold onto. Gustav, Yasha, Kylre, and even little Toya told him anything. The downside of your little family; they lie for their own if they have to and are experts at keeping their mouths shut. 

You’re going off into town to check on your project. Sneaking away was successful with the help of Yasha keeping Molly busy for the day to the point where he couldn’t get out of it. You’d make sure to pick her up some flowers on the way as a thanks. 

Next stop; the jeweller. You had melted down the gold and taken the ruby out of its setting but you didn’t have the tools to cast anything let alone make moulds so you had to outsource. Luckily the jeweller was more than happy to help you fashion what you wanted made for a generous price, one you were willing to pay to get what you want. Today you got to pick it up. It came out exactly how you had hoped it would. Paying and thanking the jeweller you picked up some flowers and gathered some from the road on your way back. 

Back at the camp you saw Yasha and Molly sitting together while he played with his cards. You approach them handing Yasha the bought bouquet and gathered one.

“Thank you for keeping him busy for a bit, Yasha.” 

“No problem. Thank you for the flowers. They’re very pretty.” She gets up, picks up her sword and goes off to see what else needs to be done leaving the two of you alone. 

“So I have to do dishes for 3 days and clean Desmond’s costume and you get away with a bouquet and some wildflowers? You sure you’re not the one with the devil’s tongue, love?” You give him a wink. 

“I’m off to practice. Can you behave and entertain yourself for the next hour or so?” 

“Of course I can but I make no promises that I will. Have fun.” You kiss his cheek walk backwards and give a little wave as you go towards the big tent to practice your set for the show. 

——————————————————————————

Warm up went well, your usual set too but the new one you’re working on is still a bit tricky to figure out. You don’t fall or anything and your moves are on point but it’s still lacking a sense of consistency and fluidity. You’d have to blame your thoughts being elsewhere. You try for the so-many-eth time you’ve lost count. Cartwheel flip centre stage, pointe landing, bow, aerial flip forward. Good. Entrance on point. Reach stage left, stage right, pirouette pointe spins, silk ropes lower, wrap arm, and up. 

You continue your routine, twisting and turning, dropping and climbing using the silk ropes, swinging around, performing intricate and impossible moves for eyes of the untrained individual. When you’re practically upside down in a split towards the end of your time you watch Mollymauk enter the tent and plop down. You continue your routine regardless making brief eye contact with him. He claps whenever you finish a set like the audience would. 

Final move you drop down from the top of the aerial silks but stop just before you hit the ground. You vault back up until your feet touch the ground and take a bow ending your set. Molly claps again and you’re about to climb up when he rushes over so you halt. 

“So have you decided yet? When I’ll get my share? I’ve been wanting to buy something but am short on coin. I could really use it.” He tries to persuade as you step up close to him. 

“Patience dear. When you’re ready I’ll give you your share.” You give him a light peck that he turns into a deeper kiss. Deciding to use this opportunity you stealthily begin wrapping the silk around his waist. You break the kiss and stroke his cheek. 

“I think I’m ready. Isn’t that worth something?” You laugh at his attempt. You know he isn’t really interested in the gold. His own curiosity is just getting the better of him and making him antsy so this whole thing is more of a game to him than anything else and he still thinks he can be the victor. Little does he know… At the minimum this could be considered a draw, at the most, your win. 

You begin taking steps backward away from him towards the stage entrance of the tent. He steps along with you. At least he does until the silks hold him back. You laugh as Molly looks confused for a second until he realises what you did. 

“Very funny love.” You reach into your pocket producing a couple of gold coins and hold them up in front of him just out of reach. 

“Are you, love? You seem to be a little tied up.” You tease watching him untangle himself. Once he does a comes for you reaching for the gold. You side step out of the way. 

“Try again.” 

“Missed me.” 

“Almost.”

“Oops.” 

You speak through giggles as tries again and again to get the coins but you’re much faster. Having run enough circles you climb up the rope just out of his reach hanging upside down, the coins just inches from his finger tips. 

“We have got to stop meeting like this Mr. Tealeaf. Imagine what people might think.” You gasp sticking out your tongue.

“You and I both know neither of us care what people might think. Now you’ve had your fun. I concede. You win. I admit my defeat.” You take the coins back and put them in the pouch and allow yourself to slide down and right way up again in a split between the two silks. You reach into a different pocket and hold your hands behind your back.

“I said I conceded didn’t I. Or would you prefer me to beg at your feet too?” He jokes as you take your sweet time. 

“You don’t sound opposed.” You blow him a kiss. 

“Never.” He stands close enough for you to lean a hand on his shoulder. 

“Close your eyes Molly. I have a surprise for you.” Molly closes his eyes but you see him peak so you flick his nose. This time he closes his eyes proper. You take out the trinket you had made from the bracelet and ring; a beaded gold chain with a rayed sun and ruby centre stone, and begin attaching it to the other jewellery around his horns. You give him a kiss to signal he can open his eyes. 

“What did you-“ You flick at the new addition to his collection. 

“A little gift. I thought you’d prefer it over the coin. Though if you need the coin you can borrow mine.” Molly inspects the sun and recognises the ruby cut. 

“You little-. Have I ever told you how much I love you?” He peppers you with kisses as you lower yourself out of your split and to the floor. 

“Many times but I don’t mind being reminded of it.” You give him a smug smile as he pulls you in a deep kiss. 

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

When you pull apart Mollymauk places another kiss to the top of your head and you lean your head against his shoulder living in the moment. You stand in each other’s embrace for what feels like an eternity, yet still an eternity too short. Every second is as valuable as the next so you bathe in each moment you get. You’re you and he’s him and that’s all you’ll ever need. 

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 31

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: angst

A/N: it’s going down now!! hope you enjoy it xx

NEXT CHAPTER

   - Barnes. - he answered.

   - Mr. Barnes, it’s Agent Cox. We have an assignment for you. - his grip almost loosened on his coffee cup. - If you could meet with us tod ...

  - I don’t do that anymore.

  - I’m sorry Mr. Barnes, but I don’t make the rules. 1 o’clock, you know where.

  - Wait. - before he could even say a thing, the phone line went dead. Fuck. Fucking assholes. 

He threw the mug onto the sink, the sheer force of the movement making the porcelain shatter against the spotless aluminium which made the sleeping Y/N on the couch, perk up wide awake. Through the temporary blurry vision of the first look after sleeping, Y/N got up from the couch and rushed towards the kitchen. Bucky had his back turned to the tiled wall, hands on the marbled kitchen top with his head looking down at the sink. She padded lightly, coming up on his left rather than behind him, placing her hand on top of his which quickly got a reaction from him.  

    - What’s wrong? - she was smart enough to know when something was wrong despite the fact he had learned to hide it from her. Bucky sighed, turning around to lean against the kitchen top. - Bucky?

Bucky remained locked inside his mind, fighting something which Y/N couldn’t really understand. It quickly passed her mind it could’ve been due to her actions last night but that thought quickly left as the overwhelming feeling of wanting to comfort him. She wrapped her arms around him, leaning her head against his chest. Bucky was still much too lost in his own mind. He should’ve be enjoying retirement, or at least his version of retirement and he definitely should not be leaving his bride-to-be who was being harassed by some maniac stalker. Yet, here he was once again. He guessed when they said don’t hurt anyone, it obviously did not include him. 

    - Talk to me, Bucky.  What’s wrong, love?

    - What ... what ring cut do you want? - he tried to change the topic but she was much too smart to know he hadn’t broken a mug over deciding what cut she wanted for her engagement ring. - Princess cut? Heart? Marquise?

     - Barnes! - she interrupted him before he decided to switch careers and become an engagement ring adviser. - What is it?

     - I ... I have to go, Y/N. I have an assignment.

     - What do you mean? 

     - It’s complicated.- he rested his hand on his neck. How does one even start to explain it? Bucky wanted her to see him as a regular man, he did not want the Winter Soldier, HYDRA, SHIELD or even the Avengers being part of his history with him. Maybe it was wrong of him to want to divide those two parts of him, but he wanted her to see whatever good was left in him. How would he even explain it to her when he can barely explain it to himself?

     - Well then explain to me. Make it uncomplicated.

     - I .. it’s part of my plea deal, princess.

     - What plea deal? - she followed him into the living room, where he sat in the couch. - Bucky, talk to me, please. Let me help you. 

     - You think the government would let me walk around as if nothing had happened? - he meant for it to sound playful however it came out filled  with resentment and why wouldn’t he resent them? It wasn’t freedom, it was constantly being kept on the leash by a government which was everything but capable of taking care of homeland security. - I had a list of people associated with HYDRA, it started with that then ... then after I was done they started calling me whenever they thought someone had HYDRA connections so I could bring them in and make amends.

     - Makes amends? What is that supposed to mean? 

     - It means what you think it means, princess. 

     - Bu ...

      - I have to meet with the agents to get the details today. - he interrupted before she could delve deeper into what he was sure she wanted to discuss. Bucky knew what he had to do and he knew there was no use crying and whining about it. - At one but I’ll be ba ...

     - I’m going with you. 

     - What? No, you’re not going. You’re staying here, god knows the papers already know you skipped the party and will be starting with their theories. 

     - I did not ask for you opinion, I said I am going. 

     - Princess, they’re not gonna let you inside the room and you’ll be probably waiting outside for an hour. Wouldn’t you feel more comfortable here?

     - No. I am going, Bucky. End of story.

     - So you’re calling the shots now?

     - Yes. - she looked over her shoulder as she made her way to the bedroom to finally get rid of the dress that was starting too feel way too uncomfortable. 

Bucky was not happy. The last thing he needed was the government to know he was dating, much less the officers and agents which normally assigned him tasks. Those were two worlds he did not want connected, he didn’t want Y/N mixed with his past, much less mixed with active ex-HYDRA members but he also knew there was no stopping her and the two of them left his flat just half to one, arriving at a mostly regular building which she would’ve mistaken for an office. Bucky parked the car in front of him, stare frozen onto the building as if it were a person which had hurt him. She felt powerless, she couldn’t help him. All she could do was be the first one off the car, eyes shielded by oversized sunglasses as he opened his door as he normally would do for her. He snapped out of it, exiting the car only to give the building that look again which was broken by her holding his hand. He’d done this so many times before and it had always been hard but now, now walking in that building meant he’d be leaving her just in the midst of a crazy person who was stalking her. He shouldn’t be tying up HYDRA’s loose ends, he should be throwing whomever that stalker was inside a cell.

     - Wait here, okay? - Bucky instructed Y/N just before he entered the room to have the meeting. - I’ll be back.

     - You’re gonna be fine. - she thanked heaven she had decided to take up acting because all she wanted to do now was break down. He kissed her forehead before leaving.

Everything looked so normal, almost like an office’s reception but she had quickly learned to dislike it. She disliked the pale blue colour of the walls, the sound of the coffee machine, the dark blue seats, she hated all of it. She did not need to know exactly why, she knew whatever it was, it was something Bucky deeply disliked and she did not know what to do. She should know what to do, say something more supportive. However, there was someone who knew what to do, who would know how to be better at helping him than she could. Y/N fished through her purse, a mess of stuff coming out before she could even get to her phone. 

     - Hello?

     - Steve, you need to come. Hum ... I don’t know where I am but I need your help.

     - Y/N, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Where’s Bucky?

     - I don’t know what’s going on. - she sighed, leaning her head against the palm of her hand. - He didn’t explain it to me but it’s about assignments and the government.

     - I’ll be there as fast as I can, Y/N. 

     - Thank you. 

All eyes in the room were on her, as if she was a circus attraction. It was nothing she wasn’t used to, she had grown up surrounded by an audience either it being her family or the audience of the plays she had been so she knew when people were staring at her. This look however, it was almost as of surprise and shock. She curled up against her own self, lip between her teeth as her fingers pulled at the pearls wrapped around her neck. She should’ve insisted to go in, to be by his side so he wasn’t alone.

     - Y/N, are you okay? - she looked up to see Sam and Steve. - Sam, take her to the car.

     - I don’t need to be in the car. I’m staying here to support him and one of you is gonna explain me to me what the heck is happening.

     - I’m going to check on Cox and Buck. - Steve left Y/N alone with Sam, the two of them sat in probably the most uncomfortable seats ever created. 

     - Sam, are they gonna hurt him?

     - Bucky’s gonna be fine, Y/N. This is part of “effort” to make amends.

     - Make amends for what, Sam? For being the Winter Soldier? For being a persona forced upon him by HYDRA which was undercover in the government for years? This can’t ... it can’t be possibly legal. 

     - Try to tell that to a jury of people who see him as the guy who fought Captain America in Washington and threw a guy into traffic. It’s not as simple but he’ll be fine. He’s done it several times and they always tell him no one gets hurt.

     - What about him? What are the rules about hurting him? - the two of them remained silent. There was nothing else to be said because both of them knew there were no rules. It was as uncertain as it came, it didn’t matter if he was “retired” from avenging or from being called the Winter Soldier. It did not matter. 

Time went by slowly and it felt as if Bucky and Steve had been in there for hours, when in reality the clock only marked 30 minutes and 40 minutes when the two of them stepped out of the room. Y/N scrambled to her feet, despite the sleepy state she had been in, fast walking towards her fiance. She wrapped her arms around him as best she could, standing on her tips of her sneakers to try and convey she was there for him. 

     - Seriously? Steve? - he whispered against her ear but Y/N shook it off.

     - Was it bad? - she turned to Steve, knowing Bucky would just try to shield her from it. 

     - Nothing far from usual. We’ll be standing by if you need it.

     - Thanks. - Bucky put his arm on over her shoulder, pushing her close to him while he could.

     - Next time call, Buck. If you don’t know how to use your phone ask your girlfriend. - Sam perked up before both him and Steve left. 

She looked up at him, knowing she’d definitely get a scolding for calling Steve but instead he just leaned down to kiss her before holding her tight. She was left stunned, wondering why he was yet to say something. Y/N could not know much about her boyfriend’s former life with HYDRA, but she knew him. She knew Bucky hated to bring Steve into things, specially after their relationship had slightly strained and despite that she still called Steve in. Steve knew his HYDRA life, she did not. Yet, Bucky always seemed to either let out a sarcastic remark or at least roll his eyes at her. Not today though. He acted as if the two of them had just came out of a date, holding her by her waist as they walked into the car.

She remained suspicious, looking to the side as he drove to his Brooklyn apartment. No. He had to be thinking about something, he had to be wondering about how to make his discontent about her calling Steve known. But he didn’t. He just had the radio playing, his hand on her thigh but she was still suspicious. Her suspicion grew stronger as they entered his flat and he held her flush against him, lowering to kiss her as if he hadn’t seen her in years. It was soft, filled with passion and slow. The type of kiss which if long enough would lead to more unsavoury things. 

     - I have to leave tomorrow. - his voice came out meek and soft as his lips parted from hers. 

     - What? - now it made sense. 

     - I have to leave tomorrow for my assignment. I don’t know when I’m going to be back but I have made arrangements for someone to watch over you. No one will hurt you while I’m gone.

     - Bucky, this is ridiculous. - she sighed. - Can’t we fight this? Can’t Steve help? You shouldn’t have to do this. 

     - I have to do this, Y/N. It’s my ... amends. 

     - Amends? Seriously? - she bit harshly onto her lip as not to start crying. She knew the moment she started to cry, he’d change the conversation to be about her and this was not about her. - You have to make amends?

     - Y/N...

     - No. - she interrupted. - You enlisted of a war caused by lack of government action, you were presumed dead only to be found by people who then seeped into the organisation which was meant to protect the country. They cut off whatever was left of your arm from a fall caused by them and brainwashed you. You are 106, you were 28 when you feel from that train. That’s 78 years, James. That’s more than average life expectancy for a man in the USA. You’re telling me they had you unwillingly under their control during their dirty deeds for more than a man’s life expectancy and you have to make amends? 

     - That’s the plea deal I accepted, Y/N. What do you want me to do? What do you want to do?

    - I just want them to see you the way that I see you, not the way they made you out to be. - Bucky took a step forward to hold her but she stepped back. - How can you accept it? Having them do this to you?

    - It’s just like the things your agency makes you do, princess. You get used to it overtime. 

    - It’s not the same. I chose to sign that contract, whatever comes of it is my fault. You did not chose to be used by someone and how is that fair? It’s not fair.

    - Life’s not fair. - he took a test step, testing if she would once again walk back but she did not. She stood there, arms crossed and head low and it broke him to see her like that but he did not know how to react. He’d never had someone say that to him and had he been less shaken by the sudden call, he would’ve probably had a different reaction. Yet, right now, all he wanted was to hold her. He wanted to hold her for as long as he could until he had to leave. 

Bucky fully approached her, wrapping his arms around her and resting her head against his shoulder. He kissed the top of her forehead, trying to hide his own emotions and trying to think of how he’d get that ex general down fast enough to return to her. To return to her little nose scrunch whenever she smiled with intent. 

    - I need you to do something for me, princess. You’re not gonna like it but I need you to do it. - he whispered, those words only for her. - Don’t make me say goodbye to you.

    - What do you mean?

    - Let me leave while you’re asleep. We go to bed just like we always do and you wake up tomorrow and I’m not here. 

    - Bucky, no. 

    - No, princess. Please. I was never good with goodbyes and if I don’t say goodbye to you, we never said it, so it never happened.

    - Bucky ...

    - Besides if I leave my dog tags with you, I can’t die. - he tried to lighten up the mood.

    - That’s not how it works.

    - I’ll be fine. I’ve done this plenty of times and no one has gotten hurt.

    - Not one has gotten hurt yet.

She didn’t want to let go of him and even as night approached and they laid down to sleep, she couldn’t sleep. Whenever she closed her eyes, the dark suffocated her and it made it hard to fall asleep. She looked at him the whole night, his hand holding hers until the heaviness of her lids eventually won the war against her yet it wasn’t that she was tired. She was just lying unconscious in darkness, feeling the tragedy in the air. He too had barely slept, awaking up up when he had to and finding it even harder to leave her. She was laying on his bed, her hair framing her face, chest slowly rising up and down. She was alive, she was no fantasy, she was his dream come true and he was leaving her. He guessed that was the price of freedom.

He took a final look at his bride to be, her fluttering lashes making her look ethereal against the white sheets. Oh, he’d be back. He’d be back for her. Bucky took his tags off, leaning down to place them across her slightly opened palm and to kiss her temple before he took off into the early dawn. 

Y/N woke up when the sun was high in the sky, the light contrasting the cold of her bed. She didn’t need to look at his side of the bed to know he was gone. She couldn’t feel him, she couldn’t hear him. The flowers by the bedside had gone brown, the dead petals falling on her palm like teardrops against his dogs tags. She clinged onto the shiny material, bringing it up to her chest before she allowed herself to cry finally. No sounds came, no whimpers of sadness, no moans of grief. Nothing. Tears just streamed down her face in silent rivers falling onto the sheets as she tried to convince herself it would be okay. Things were gonna be okay.

Just as she managed to calm herself down, she realised the moment she opened that bedroom door, the lack of the smell of coffee, the lack of the smell of oil from his fried eggs. It would all just come back in big flashes and she would be back to where she had just been. She couldn’t be in his flat anymore, it was too painful. She needed to go, she just didn’t know where yet as she opened the door, there was indeed someone in her kitchen.

    - Sharon?

taglist: @disasterbii @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @bbabysbaby @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverratedbutgreat @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche @vicmc624 @newyorkgoddess @itsallyscorner @chipilerendi @emzd34 @writerwrites @bluevxnus @that-girl-named-alex @captnrogers @nsfwsebbie @sarge-barnes-sir @niki-is-a-thing​ @cynic-spirit​ 

[bnha-butterfly]

Chapter 1: A Brand New Bodyguard

MASTERLIST   || Join the Taglist

Chapter warning: none

 Bakugou knows he is utterly fucked when he lays eyes on you. Sitting in a meeting with your father looking like something out of a magazine. Or at least you would have looked out of a magazine had it not been for the utter look of annoyance on your face. You seemed like you wanted to be anywhere but here and he could already tell you would be a handful. He walks in behind Enji, your father’s right hand man and comes to a stop in front of you. He can feel your eyes looking at him. They feel laser sharp and oppressive. He should have expected this type of coldness from the boss's kid.

“(Y/n) this is Bakugou, he’s gonna be your new private security detail. Try not to break this one yeah?” He hears your father say with an exasperated sigh.

“I make no promises.” Your voice is golden honey dripping off your tongue and if Bakugou didn’t think he was fucked earlier he knows its game over when he looks at you. Sees the smirk on your full lips and the look of mischief dancing just behind your eyes. Your expression says “ I have crushed men bigger than you” and he’s starting to wonder if being assigned as your security detail is punishment for fucking something up.

He watches as you stand up and check the time on your phone. Your lips quirk up into a smile. You stretch and let out a sigh. “Well I have an appointment to attend back at the house. I’ll have to talk with you all later.” You turn on your heels and head to the door, and he doesn't realize that he’s supposed to be following behind until you're already at the door with your eyes on him. “We don't have all day Mr.Bodyguard.”

 He falls in place behind you quietly. The soft noise of shoes on hardwood was all that filled the hall as you headed out to one of your fathers cars. You never understood why you needed a bodyguard. Yes, you were the child to the country's most notorious mafia boss. But, you weren’t some spoiled brat. You could shoot a gun as well as any of your father’s top men and to be quite honest you were the one really running the show. Your father was just being stubborn about officially handing everything over to you. But, you both knew you were the real one pulling the strings.

You step out of the abandoned looking warehouse that served as your fathers headquarters and towards the lavish looking black car that pulled up in the alley way. You stood in front of the car for a second. Turning your head and cocking your eyebrow at your new bodyguard. It took everything in you not to suck your teeth when your look was met with confusion? Okay, so nobody briefed him. Great. One more thing for you to do today.

 You opened the car door for yourself and settled in. Once the both of you were settled the driver started to make their way towards the place you called home. The utter silence in the car was thick and awkward. Seeing as you were heading into a rather important meeting you decided now would be the best time to brief him. You let out a soft sigh before shifting to face Bakugou to the best of your ability.

 “Let me guess nobody told you anything more than the fact that you're going to be my bodyguard. You weren’t briefed by Enji or anyone?” You know the answer but you ask anyway.

 “No. That dude Enji just approached me one day last week after a hit. Told me that I’d be your bodyguard for a while.” He says, voice deep and gravely. But, you're not focusing on his voice. You're too busy thinking about how you’re gonna have to rip Enji a new asshole for not briefing the blonde bodyguard despite having a whole week.

“Well I guess that's my job then apparently. Hi, the names (y/n) and I’m the ringleader of this circus we call the House of Thorns.” You extend your right hand out for a handshake.

 “Bakugou Katsuki. What do you mean you're the ringleader? Aren’t you just the boss's kid.” He asks as he shakes your hand. His palm feels warm against yours bordering on hot. Your (e/c) eyes come to meet his ruby ones.

 “Tell me the truth.. Is that what all you lower ranks take me for? The boss’s spoiled kid?”

 Something flashes in your eyes and Bakugou feels as his brain become clouded by a heavy fog. You watch his ruby eyes glaze over. A tell-tale sign of your quirk taking effect and you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. “Got him” you think.

 “Most of them, yeah. All the ones that haven’t met you or have only seen you from afar at least. You can’t really blame them tho. I mean whenever you’re at HQ you always look perfect. Not a single hair out of place. It’s hard to think that someone as delicate looking as you is anything else other than just another spoiled rich kid. Hard to imagine you in a tussle or a shoot out.”

 The words leave his mouth and he can feel the fog lift from his brain. Well he was dead. He just called the Boss’s kid spoiled right to their face. He waits for the screaming, for the anger only to be met with...laughter? You were struggling to suppress your laughter.

 “So that’s what those low rank pawns think, huh? I would say interesting, but that’s kind of expected from those types. And you can drop the tension in your shoulders. My quirk forces people to tell the truth. Wouldn’t make sense for me to get mad at what you said seeing as I pretty much forced you to say it.” You say as you settle back into the seat of the car.

 "However, let me get this one thing through your head. While my old man may be the official head of the house. I'm the one really running the show." Your eyes sparkle with something fiery behind them and Bakugou all but forgets how to breathe. So he just nods in acknowledgement of your words.

 "You'll see that firsthand soon enough though. I'll brief you after this meeting, just stand behind me and look intimidating. Although, I doubt you'll have trouble doing that."

A/N: A lot of readers personality is based off of Loretta Christiano from Gangsta. Tbh a lot of my general inspiration for this is based off of Gangsta. There’s a good chance that I’ll be doing some world building soon to really cement the setting.

Taglist: (if your name is bold I couldn’t tag you)

  @lilsparkyswife​

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Mission of Mercy: Thirty-One

Bucky felt his watch vibrate and opened his eyes. He hadn’t slept well but he didn’t miss the sleep. It felt like when he was a kid. When he hadn’t slept well because he was so excited for the next day. For Christmas. For his birthday. For the Circus. For whatever little entertainment there was. And he rolled over, pulling you back against him, pulling you closer. Pressing soft wet kisses into your neck and shoulder. 

“Bucky,” you protest sleepily, wiggling. “ ‘s to early.”

He smiles a little and tugs you back over, “I’m not trying to get it in,” he chuckled, “But it is time to get up, doll.”

“Buck-”

“It’s your birthday,” he rumbled against your ear softly. “I want you to have a good day. And good days start with Pancakes.”

You turn so you can look at him and sigh, “Bucky,” you say again, protesting. 

“Please?” he hummed, kissing your nose. “For me? I just want you to have a good time. I want to give you a good day. No cemeteries. No listening to your mom cry about how awful it is. Just… Just us, okay? No one else. No staying in bed all day just waiting for it to be over.”

“You’re such a goober,” you protest, snuggling closer. 

“Your goober,” he hums, popping you lightly on the ass. “What do you say, doll? Let’s get some pancakes and you let me take care of you.”

“Will you buy me books?” you tease.

“Pft. Like I didn’t buy you presents.” The truth was he’d spent what was, for him, an appalling amount of money on the day. It was enough that he could hear his mother scolding him from beyond the grave and Steve had looked perfectly horrified. It had been a clue that he was probably on the right track. You weren’t materialistic. Not really. But you always appreciated a healthy dose of being spoiled and doted on. And Bucky was more than happy to do it. You were his princess. His baby. And he’d always liked doing for someone. Little gifts. Nice dates. And one of his favorite things about this time was just how many options he had. 

You smile a little and kiss him gently, “You didn’t have to do anything.”

“I know,” he said, grinning, “But. You’re my girl. And I hate that your birthday isn’t fun for you. I don’t want you to try and hide in your bed all day. I want you to have fun… We don’t have to talk about anything. This is your day. Just… give me a chance?”

You nod, relenting. It was true, you just wanted to stay in bed all day. But. Bucky wanted this. He really wanted this. And you didn’t want to hurt him. You could tell he was proud of himself and that he’d put some time into things. And he deserved your participation. Some gratitude. Just for wanting to try. “What should I wear?”

Bucky quirked an eyebrow, smirking. 

“I just want to know so I’m not walking into a 5-star restaurant in joggers and a t-shirt,” you sigh. 

“A sundress maybe? Some sandals?” he tried. It wasn’t a day filled with rock climbing or anything. Even if he’d considered it, you liked rock climbing and swimming and kayaking. 

You nod making a soft thoughtful noise. “I should probably get cute, huh?”

“You’re already cute,” Bucky teased.

You give him a look and start to pull away from him but he pulls you closer, “I lied,” he rumbled against your ear. “You’re not cute.”

“Oh?”

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he rumbled. “I gotta stop selling you short.”

“Bucky,” you sigh, shivering as he kissed your neck. He knew what he was doing. And he knew you knew. But you couldn’t pull away. It felt too good. And Bucky knew it. He chuckled and pinned you to the mattress tenderly. 

“You don’t even know do you?” he chuckled, “The things you do to men when you walk by.”

“I tend to tune that kind of thing out,” you tell him honestly. “It gets really distracting. And sometimes it’s just uncomfortable.”

“That’s fair,” Bucky said. “But I don’t tune it out. I see the way they stare at you when you walk by. Pretty sure one guy almost broke his neck trying to get another look.”

“Jealous?” you tease, shifting to get his weight off your hip.

“Proud,” he corrected. “Because you’re mine. Because I get to see things no one else gets to see. And because you don’t even look at those assholes.”

Your cheeks color and Bucky shifts your thighs apart and bends down to kiss you. “You’re perfect,” he hums, “And you’re mine.”

When you make a soft little noise. A needy sound. Bucky grins, “You like that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you murmur, your breath catching as he presses his thigh against your aching sex. You weren’t sure exactly when he figured out that you liked it when he got a little possessive. Or when he figured out that he liked being in control but you weren’t complaining. 

Bucky tutted softly, “So needy,” he teased, letting go of your wrists and sitting up to wiggle your shorts down to expose you to him. “Oh,” he breathed, palming your exposed sex, “Is all this for me?”

“Yes,” you answer, breathless. It’s hard to think. Words are hard to grab. And all there is, if Bucky. He’s so full of want. And love. And need. That it’s drowning out everything else and all you know is him. How warm and soft and safe he feels.

Bucky stops for a moment, focusing on his breathing and blinking back tears when you roll your hips into his hand. It took him by surprise when you let go, in the moment. In those little moments when you lost yourself in him and lost control. Lost the strangle hold on your feelings. 

There was just so much love. And need. The way you fell into him. It made his head spin. “So beautiful,” he managed. And he couldn’t deny you. He could feel it, the need for security. Something you felt but couldn’t tell him. 

And as he entered you, pinning you beneath him, he relished the desperate little shudder. The way you buried your face in his shoulder and wrapped your legs around him to pull him closer. “Good girl,” he praised softly. “Good girl.”

And then he lost himself in you. Awash in feelings and needs. Embracing the gift you’d unintentionally laid at his feet. 

_______

You tucked your self against Bucky’s side in the booth and picked up your cappuccino. “I’m starving,” you tell him. 

“Well let’s get some pancakes in you,” he chuckles, kissing the whipped cream off the end of your nose. He still felt exposed. But he couldn’t deny that it felt good. It always felt good with you in those unguarded moments. It left a warmth in his belly and he wondered what it felt like to you. But. He also didn’t want to broach that subject now. He just wanted to bask in it. 

“What were you going to do if I didn’t like breakfast food?” you tease. 

“Well obviously this would have never worked,” he snorted. 

“Obviously,” you answer, rolling your eyes.

[rorikoa-xiv]

Where There’s Smoke

The desert sun beat down on the Silver Bazaar as Talon stepped through the town gate. Adjusting his shades, he scanned the stalls and stonework for anyone of interest. He eventually settled on a black-haired midlander waving his finger at some men in wet, raggy clothing.

"I thought you sailors were supposed to have spine! Instead, you--" The furious fellow turned to see the stranger approaching him, and let out a tired sigh. "Yes? Can I help you?"

The miqo'te shrugged. "Maybe. I'm lookin' for anyone who knows about the recent sahagin sightings."

The hyur let out a bemused chuckle. "Sahagin! Don't you talk to me about sahagin! Do you have any idea how much trouble those bedeviled beastmen have made for my master's enterprise?"

"Quite a bit, I'm guessing." Talon set his hand on his hip, and cocked his head. "Care to elaborate?"

Taking a deep breath, the man bowed his head in greeting. "Aurton, servant of master Adalymo Totolymo, owner of Totolymo Munitions. And you are?"

The miqo'te straightened his posture and patted the wand on his hip. "Scorching Talon, of the Ashen Wolves. Here to solve the fishback issue."

The servant looked to the sky and clasped his hands. "Oh, thank the Traders! You must help us retrieve our grenade cores before the saha--"

"Whoa, hold up!" the Ashen Wolf threw his hands out. "Grenade cores!? Shit, I get that you're in the gunpowder business, but enough of those things can level a damn tower if you ain't careful!"

Aurton cleared his throat. "Which is precisely why we can't well leave them in the hands of their scale-skinned thieves. My men here were sailing from Vesper Bay when they were driven from their boats at spear-point. Had to swim their way to shore."

The seeker glanced at the drenched men and thumbed his chin. "Didn't occur to you to maybe take a land route?"

"And get gutted by tolls at Horizon?" The hyur crossed his arms.

One of the sailors, a dunesfolk, shook his head and muttered something obscene. The midlander shot him a look of disdain, and he zipped his lips.

"Tch, tch, tch… you know, I've monkeyed around with a grenade core once or twice." Talon rolled his shoulders, and clapped for the black-haired man's attention. "Whatever those two-legged guppies want with 'em, they must be putting 'em someplace dry. Otherwise the things'll go inert."

The hyur gave one last menacing look to his employee, then rubbed his neck. "The boats my men were on aren't meant for deep-sea travel, actually. It's unlikely they went far with their cargo."

The lalafell perked up. "A-actually, I might know where they are!"

Aurton cocked an eyebrow. "Well… go on then. Daylight's burning."

"Was sorta hopin' there'd be a bonus for telling?" the dunesfolk said with a nervous chuckle.

The servant's mouth went agape, then twisted into a sneer. "Why, yes! The bonus is, you get to keep your godsdamn job, Babayori! Now spill it!"

"A cave! A cave!" A look of terror appeared on the little man's face. "There’s some grottoes in the desert islets off the coast! I steal away to 'em now and again to catch forty winks and I, uh… that is…"

"Ohoho, you filthy little filcher!” The hyur stomped his way toward the dunesfolk. “First you try to shake me down for my own product, then you admit to napping on the job?! Well that's it! Your sorry ass is--"

"Enough!" Talon put himself between the two. "This ain't getting us anywhere. Look… Babayori, right? Can you take me to this cave where you think the sahagin're hiding?" The lalafell nodded emphatically.

The Ashen Wolf turned back to the midlander. "Then how 'bout this: let the little dude take me to the cave, and if I find the cores, we call it a job well done." He then glanced at the small sailor. "Oh, and you keep this schmuck on the payroll."

Aurton's brow twitched. "Keep him? Pah! And just what's your interest in his job security?"

"Can't really say." The mage shrugged back. "Just feelin'... generous. Alternatively, I can leave the same way I came, and you can sort this out yourselves."

A cool breeze rolled through the bazaar. The hyur inhaled, and eyed his employee. "Thank your lucky stars, Baba… you've got a deal, miqo'te. Get going."

The sailor and the seeker began making their way to the pier. With his boss well out of earshot, the dunesfolk spoke up. "Hey… thanks again, mister Talon. My family and I owe you one."

"Ah, don't mention it." the thaumaturge said with a wide smile. "Guy was a friggin' asshole. You've got my deepest sympathies." The pair laughed boisterously as they continued down the dock.

*********************************************

The nauseous scent of fungus and rot yawned out of the pitch-black cave now looming before Talon and Babayori. Just within its mouth were the stolen boats, with their cargo nowhere to be seen.

As the miqo'te began climbing off, the dunesfolk stopped him. "H-hey, just so we're clear, you're not expecting me to go with you, right?"

The thaumaturge gave a halfway grin, and shook his head. "Wasn't countin' on it, no. You just keep the boat here for when I come back with your boss's shit." He then hopped from the boat, conjured a flame for light, and headed in.

The sailor saluted him and nodded. "Come back safe, you hear?"

Deeper within, the pyromancer had to narrow his eyes. The damp air hampered his lightsource, and the skittering of vermin filled his ears. A chill ran down his spine as some unnatural growl echoed all around him.

Hurrying his pace, he stumbled upon a trail of webbed tracks leading to a tight passageway. The mage smelled something putrid coming from the other end, but it was interlaced with the scent of smoke.

"Found you." he said, and ducked into the passage. He anxiously whispered a prayer to Azeyma, and soon found himself in a dry, dimly-lit cavern.

Rotting fish and half-eaten rats littered the ground. Pinching his nose, the Ashen Wolf slowly moved forward until something caught his eye.

Several crates lay at the far end of the room. They smelled like charcoal, and had a faint glow. Talon hurried over and began inspecting them.

Finding nothing suspect, he carefully opened one of the crates. Inside were many densely packed orbs, emanating dry heat. He plucked one out, and gazed into its orange glow with a nostalgic smile. "Bee-youtiful…"

KSSHHHICK!

The thaumaturge screamed as something cold and steely plunged into the base of his back! He fumbled to try and pull whatever it was out, but a slimy foot planted itself on his back and kicked him to the floor!

His wand fell into the dirt beside him. Gritting his teeth, he crawled toward it, but a sudden stomp on his spine held him in place.

A pair of mucus-filled voices hissed above him. "Keep thisss one alive; fear will make its flesh tassstier for brothers!" laughed one voice. "No, no!" growled another. "Sssmoothskin is wielder of fire! Burning, burning! Too dangerousss!"

Talon jerked and wriggled to escape his attacker, but to no avail. He felt the weight shift above him, and could almost sense the sharpened steel hanging above his neck.

At just that moment, the pitter-patter of footsteps could be heard from the cavern's entrance. Babayori's voice echoed out, "You let 'im go, you big ugly whoreson!" The lalafell swung his oar wildly, only for it to thud against the scaly back of a sahagin thrice his size.

The creature let out two irritated grunts, and turned to the little man. In the faint light of the lantern on his hip, the sailor could make out a towering, violet monstrosity, armed with a trident. Most frightening to him, however, were its two hideous heads.

Both of its faces twisted into scowls, and roared at Babayori. He fell to the ground in terror, and crawled back. The abomination stomped toward him, preparing another thrust of its weapon.

FFFOOSH!

An orange flash filled the room. In an instant, a whip made of flame was coiling around the creature's waist, and slithering up its body. It let out a blood-curdling howl, and turned to see Talon propped against the crates, gripping his wand.

With growing fury, the beastman took several heavy steps toward the Ashen Wolf. "These onesss will eat your entrailsss!"

Babayori watched with awe and horror as the thaumaturge pulled out a grenade core and focused on it. When the sahagin had nearly reached him, the glow from the core dimmed into nothing, and the fire-whip burned even brighter.

With a yank of the wand, the coil tightened, searing through the creature's scales before tearing it into a pile of smoking chunks.

As the scent of charred flesh filled the room, the miqo’te fell to the ground and rolled onto his back. Through harsh breaths, he beckoned, "Good… work, Baba… n-now… c'mere…"

The lalafell rushed to his side, and began inspecting him for any visible injuries.

"W-wait. First… left pocket… yellow vial. Need it…" Talon shut his eyes, and felt a bitter liquid pour into his mouth. Swallowing it all, he sat up. "Alright… better. Now, I need your help to patch my wounds, but after that, we get those crates and get moving. Two hauls should be enough."

The dunesfolk's eyes widened as he poured a canteen over a makeshift binding. "Two hauls? After all that? Are you trying to kill yourself?"

The seeker's brow twitched, and he barked back. "I'm not sticking around for that… thing's friends to show up. And I'm definitely not leaving them their plunder!"

He then lifted his shirt, and cringed as a whiskey-soaked cloth was used to bind his wounds. "Fuckin' circus freak… what in the hells were these guys doing playing with that much firepower, anyway?"

"Nothing good, I'm sure." Babayori replied as he rummaged through the thaumaturge's pack. "But at least you helped stop 'em, huh?"

"No." The pyromancer grabbed the sailor's hand when he was offered a potion. "We helped stop 'em."

[reynie-muldoons]

'Depends on the Wagon' liveblog!

I saw someone do timestamps in their liveblog and it was absolutely lovely, so I think I'll try that too

1:55 why does Curtain sound like an mlm ceo LMAO

2:07 WOW ASSHOLE 😂😂 waving off your own teacher when he was complimenting you is not the vibe

2:17 so Dr. Curtian is only available through chain emails. Got it.

2:27 he seems like the kind of asshole to say that people on welfare are lazy and exploitave but then like, not pay his taxes

2:42 I DON'T LIKE HOW HE SAID THAT, THAT WAS CREEPY

2:47 oooooh Constance, always asking the right questions

3:05 Kate, why are you yelling, it's literally past curfew 😂

3:35 oh hai Jackson.. gtfo

4:22 oh yeah, the best way out is through the hallway that Jackson just entered. Good plane, babe.

4:25 soooo Kate Depending On Friends arc :)

4:59 AYYY HI RHONDA!!

5:13 why do I kinda fucking love then all deciphering the Morse code together

5:20 so the kids use the gemini riddle? Not the adults???

5:36 his face when he figures it out 😭😭😭

5:46 Nathaniel? Guess that's Dr. Curtain's name now. Less ridiculous than Ledroptha, but you dont get the badass Let Drop the Curtain reference

6:53 okay so no one knew he had a brother? But he did???

7:21 his faaaace 🥺

7:29 AWWW HE COULDNT BRING HIMSELF TO SHARE 😭😭😭 okay I'm kinda on board with the change if they can make it work in the long-haul

7:42 hi Milligan, good timing 😂

7:56 "not the time.........I'll take a dozen" Number Two my LOVE

8:23 interesting. I dont think Mr. Benedict was adopted in the books? He certainly didn't let Violet's family, the Hopefields, because he knew their financial troubles would be even worse. So who?

8:54 ohhhh dear, stages of grief at work. Maybe don't do that

9:05 I talked about this in the MBS discord server, but I think the show is really nailing Mr. Benedict's feelings. He's always been an emotional person, but he has to be so careful. Bottling up your feelings only leads to bigger feelings later. It makes so much sense for Mr. Benedict to be a whirlpool of strong, repressed emotions.

9:11 MILLIGAN'S FACE JAHAHS

9:34 RHONDA'S FACE HAGSKDGDJ

9:40 Mr. Benedict, sweetheart 🥺❤

10:01 "brothers stick together" why does it sound like he's talking about Reynie here 😭😭😭😭

10:12 that is a good ass point, Mr. Benedict already lied to them once

10:21 it makes sense for Sticky to be the one questioning the most because of his anxiety, but damn

10:46 AWWWWWW

10:56 KATE MAKING A BED FORT KATE MAKING A BED FORT KATE MAKING A BED FORT

11:00 I dont like how aggressive Kate is but it makes sense considering she's been in the circus for years, taking care of herself for far longer than she hasn't. She's not good at depending on people, and she's not good with difficult people.

11:10 Yeahh, Constance gets it!

11:40 Yeahhh, Constance gets it

12:55 that teacher seemed pretty nice last episode, nice to see that they're not what they seem just the same as Dr. Curtain lol

13:28 CONSTANCE I LOVE YOU 😂😂

14:00 "check again" okay so Krista from the tests and Martina give off the same vibe.. perfect 😂

14:16 "yeah......hang in there :D"

15:05 all of the apologies to the general class.. he's such an anxious sweetheart. He's really reading as autistic to me.

My sister just called me 😑 it's like 8 am, I answered her like "did you ever consider that you might be waking me up?" She did not consider that 😂

15:22 Martina's face just growing more and more annoyed and disgruntled HAHA

15:29 that was CORRECT?? WHAAAA

15:51 throwback to when I compared Dr. Curtain to an mlm ceo.. definitely like a cult

16:44 ohhhh Martina

17:30 CONSTANCE HEARING VOICES HELLOOOOO

18:22 ayyyyyy helper man

18:40 he seems too cheery to be a helper .-. The helpers all being super sad made [redacted]'s story make a whole lot more sense

19:35 aaaand now we get to it. You know, it really does seem a lot more cultish on screen than in the book

19:53 WAIT CONSTANCE GOOD JOB PUTTING THE PIECES TOGETHER 😂😂😂😂

19:53 that cut to Milligan making that exact face was INCREDIBLE

20:05 was he tryna leave? Yeah, good fuckin luck bucko

20:10 "critical papers at home" my ass, they packed everything up

20:24 the stages of grief back at it. 🥺

20:38 their relationship >>>>

21:00 "located in the..?" *description of envelope* "located in the....?" *more description* "located in the????" 😂😂😂😂

21:34 ohhhhh Thursday must be the student ranking day

21:56 Martina seems like the kind to throw out "pick a god and pray" as a crit quote 😂

22:07 I don't see any of the Society'a names on the list. Maybe they havent been there long enough

22:17 OH SHIT JK THERE THEY ARE

22:25 ohh Kate and Constance

22:55 the combination of the ferry horn and the bell makes it weirdly grim

23:55 them bringing Kate up and reminding her that she's needed 😌✨

24:29 hi Milligan bb ilyyyy

24:35 real good lookout guys, y'all are so well hidden

24:52 AYY HE'S DOING IT KATE STYLE

26:31 "visionary" is a word for it

26:31 I really kinda love that Number Two and Rhonda are going to such depths to try and help Mr. Benedict figure this out for sure

26:56 Mr. Benedict fully walking away while they talk about his brothers accomplishments 😂 I'm laughing, but poor guy

27:08 his FACE 🥺

27:28 HERE'S THAT TANTRUM FROM THE TRAILER

27:28 take your guesses how many times will he fall asleep

27:50 "he just has to work through some things" you dont fuckin say

27:55 you mean to tell me he had a full blown meltdown and they didn't show him falling asleep once??

28:35 like father like daughter 😌✨

29:10 ayyyy secret desk compartment

29:19 honestly I'm surprised there were actually papers he needed and it wasnt an excuse to go confront Dr. Curtain

29:32 oh shit, how'd they manage to get that far inside? No one was there to guard it, but the maze itself is a security measure

29:42 KATE STYLE STRIKES AGAIN

29:47 ooooh I like Dr. Curtain's office

30:01 WAS THAT SQ AND DID HE JUST CALL DR. CURTAIN HIS DAD

30:41 birds have careers. Got it 😂

30:50 JOURNAAAL

31:02 the fox?? Reynard the fox???

31:27 ohhh here we go, Dr. Curtain sees himself in Reynie only to resent it later

31:37 Mr. Benedict called Reynie a leader once too.. the parallels have ✨begun✨

32:12 is this the "keep your enemies close" conversation??

32:15 I'm honestly surprised he called him Sticky and not George

32:42 IT IS SQ IT IS SQ IT IS SQ

32:59 sooo that starts by not letting his caution down with you

33:11 Dr. Curtain congratulating himself mid-conversation on saying something deep is so in character

33:20 "I was betrayed by someone very close to me" so that was Mr. Benedict. Who the fuck else would it be

33:23 WHAT DID I SAAAAY

33:31 oh noooo Reynie starts doubting Mr. Benedict here? Is that the move?

33:43 that transition was so pretty stoppp

33:53 again how hasn't he fallen asleep

34:55 ayyyy journal snooping

35:05 Constance, my love, you are cut throat

35:11 Milligan is in the DRYWALL? ohh buddy be careful

35:21 omfg are they talking about water polo 😂 I love that that's the sport of choice

35:51 ayyyy they put the Milligan dots together too. Shame the guy's not with them rn

36:36 so Mr. Benedict brings up cheating first? I really like how we get to see the adults riddling out what to send back, we didn't get that at all in the books

37:46 I LOVE THAT THEY KEPT "don't get caught"

38:51 Kate riddling out the island schematics engineer style is so like her

39:07 they're just walking out the door?? Huh???

39:29 babe... turn off your flashlight

39:33 AND THAT'S WHY

39:58 is that the precursor to chuckroot?

40:38 the papers were from his orphanage 🥺🥺🥺

41:14 why does that break my heart

41:19 Dr. Curtain and SQ doing shit together it just.. so heartwarming

42:00 HAHA

42:16 okay, so show!Curtain is a kissass 😂

42:35 wait wait wait so Dr. Curtain is actively trying to contain his brother? That would explain why the Recruiters were looking for him and weirdly not the kids

43:25 "power wants to be free" sounds more like a personal mantra than a conversation between engineers

43:41 YES A LETTER TO MISS PERUMAL

44:02 more voices. Poor Connie girl 🥺

44:36 he loves her so much 😭😭😭

44:45 SHE TRIED TO SEND HIM A CARE PACKAGE

45:13 WORRIED MOM TIMEEE