#'Cause now he needs new boots XD

[moody-alcoholic]

Coffee

I've had this story saved for a while now trying to muster the confidence to post it today is the day! I'm finally jumping straight out of my comfort zone and into new territory wish me luck... Can you tell I'm bad a naming things, title coming soontm... when I think of one.

DISCLAMER: This is my first time writing a reader fic so please be gentle. It is also my first time writing a fic that is pretty much going to be centered around smut. I am also really bad at writing Soap's accent my dyslexic brain freaks out too much, I will strive to improve though XD

Summary: Ghoap x Reader, throuple. Slow burn (sorry but not sorry). 3.7k words. Reader is female (she/her), army nurse, non descript physical features, names used: Ashe. Am I doing this right?? CW: This chapter is SFW, but in future it will get spicy so for my own sanity +18 MDNI mentions of sex, descriptions of injuries.

Part 2 Masterlist

Phew, Enjoy <3

“Sergeant MacTavish?” You call into the hallway there are some soldiers waiting, you look up and down to see if anyone reacts to the name. 

“Sergeant John MacTavish?” You call again this time a little louder.

“Here lass!” A man calls hobbling down the hall towards you. Your breath catches in your throat, even being on a base surrounded by plenty of hunky men you had not seen anyone quite like him. His broad shoulders, thick arms and tanned skin. His fluffy mohawk, shining almost bronze in the florescent lights. To top it all off his cheeky grin is sending butterfly's racing in your stomach.

He’s being followed by what seems like an even bigger man trying to help him wobble his way down the hall, his sharp eyes focused on making sure his friend doesn’t topple over. The rest of his face is covered by a balaclava with a skull printed on it. It makes you shiver as they walked towards you. You move to the side of the door letting them in. John finds his way to a chair while the other man stands behind him. You close the door to the room going back over to the desk sitting down and opening his file on the computer. 

“Twisted your ankle during an exercise?” You look past the monitor at him. 

“Aye, I’m fine but LT here insisted I get it checked out.” He replies with a smile on his face thumbing behind at the man looming over him. Christ even his accent is sexy.

“And I’m staying to make sure you do get it checked out properly instead of flirting your way to a few paracetamol and a cold compress.” The man said, his voice was deep, commanding. You could feel heat rush to your cheeks at the mention of flirting, but you push the thought away trying to remain professional. 

“It is good to get it checked even if it is just a sprain.” You move your chair round so you’re sitting in front of him. 

“Do you mind if I take your boot off?”

“I got it lass,” he winked bending down to untie the laces, and pulled the boot off. You could tell by the scrunching of his face and the grunt he made that this was causing him pain. He put his foot back down on the floor his ankle did look swollen. 

“Have you tried ice or a cold compress?” You ask. 

“Aye,” he replies you hear the man behind him sigh.

“What he means by that is he tried for about 5 minutes before he was back on his feet again.” John huffed at being called out. 

“You’ll need to try for longer then that,” you say acknowledging the tall man behind John who now had his arms crossed. You pick the foot up watching John try to hide the pain, you only lift it up a little before decided it was going to need an x-ray. 

“I will book an x-ray for you in the mean time if you go into the ward they will give you an ice pack and a bed.” You explain moving your chair back to the desk so you could book the appointment. 

“Do you want any pain relief?” You ask. 

“Na, I can barely feel it.” He says a cheeky smile on his face. You nod typing the report and waiting for the paper to print out. 

“I can give you some crutches you really should keep your weight off it.” You stand up going to the printer.

“It’s okay love I’ve got my own crutch here.” He says hopping up on his foot and wrapping his arm round the other man. You smile handing the paper to him.

“Give this to the nurse on the ward.” You say rushing in front of them to open the door. 

“Thanks love,” he says beaming at you as he gets lead out by his friend who looks back at you and nods. You close the door to the room taking a breath out. What the hell was that? You find a smile forming on your lips as your heart flutters in your chest. 

————————

Two days later you find yourself as the night nurse. Not that you mind it’s normally the quieter part of the job and there is no one in the ward so you don’t even have to worry about trying to look busy. About an hour into your shift someone comes through the doors. You recognise him immediately as John, from a few days ago with the sprained ankle. He’s hobbling around on crutches now, his friend is not with him ether. 

“Hello sweetheart!” He says his voice full of energy, that ever present smile on his face. 

“Hey, John did you need something?” you ask coming round from behind the nurses station. 

“Yeah actually, I was told to come pick up something��” He trails off. “Now what was it?” 

“Painkillers?” You ask. 

“No it begin with a T I think.” He looks up to the corner of the room like he is trying to think hard about it.

“A tubigrip?” You ask.

“That’s the one lass!” He says snapping his fingers, you can’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. 

“Sit up on the bed I’ll get you one.” You say turning to the cupboard of supplies. You pick out two sizes then walk back over to John already leaning down to untie his boots. 

“I can do that.” You insist waving his hands away, he sighs but gives in leaning back on the bed. You carefully remove the boot looking back and checking to see how he reacts. He’s ether getting better at hiding it or painkillers have helped. He only winces when you have to pull the boot over his heel.

“What did the doctor say?” You ask. 

“Sprained, I’ve been stuck behind a desk for the last two days.” He makes a pouting face as you pull his sock off. 

“You should sleep with it elevated that will help with the swelling.” You say pulling his trouser leg up. The swelling has definitely improved since you saw it last. 

“I bet with a few more days of rest you’ll be back on your feet like nothing happened.” You smile at him.

“I hope so lass, my unit’s being shipped out at the end of the week.” He says as you pull the tubigrip over his foot and ankle.

“Oh yeah anywhere fun?” You ask. 

“Ah ‘fraid I can’t tell you that love.” He winks, you can't tell if he’s joking or not but you pull his trouser leg back down.

“You can keep your boot on but not too tight, and keep it elevated.” You explain putting his boot back on and loosely tying the laces. 

“What painkillers are you taking?” You ask as he swivels his body round so his feet are hanging off the bed. 

“Paracetamol, oh and the doc said I could take ibuprofen too, but I don’t need it I can barely feel a thing.” You look back at him chuckling, his arms flex as he pushes himself up with the crutches. You feel your cheeks heat up again.

“You should take the ibuprofen at least it will also help with the swelling.” You force out, leaning over him to pick up his sock from the bed. He smells good, must be his aftershave. You hold the sock out for him and he sheepishly takes it out your hand shoving it in his pocket. You move back so he can hop out the ward back to the nurses station. 

“Well it was nice seeing you again…” He trails off like he’s trying to remember your name his eyes squinting. You cover your badge teasing him. He chuckles. 

“LT is the one with the better memory.” He says turning his body to the doors. 

“Ashe.” You reply uncovering your badge.

“Well then Ashe it was nice to see you again.” His smile is infectious and you could have sworn he winked at you. 

“Good luck on your deployment,” You call back as he pushes his way through the doors. 

“I don’t need luck.” He winks at you. Okay that time it was definitely a wink and it made the butterflies come back to your belly. You sit down at the nurses station with a smile on your face and heat in your cheeks.

————————

One week later you get a text out of the blue.

Hey, this Ashe? 

It’s an unknown number you’re tempted to ignore it, but something inside you forces you to answer it. 

Yeah, who’s this?

It’s only seconds later a response comes.

It’s Johnny, with the fucked up ankle. 

Holy shit, you choke on your drink, coughing as the liquid has now gone in your windpipe. You take a few more sips trying to sooth it. How the hell did he get my number? 

How did you get my number?

From a friend of a friend..

You can’t help but chuckle, is this real? Did he make his deployment? You realise you haven’t seen him round the base in a few days, and you would know you’ve been looking. Sometimes without even realising it any time you see a broad tanned soldier hairs stand up on the back of your neck and you crane to look only to be disappointed. His friend with the skull mask, you found out his name was lieutenant Riley. You know you definitely hadn’t seen him. 

Anyway…Want to get coffee? 

Such a simple request has your heart thumping in your chest. 

When? 

You reply without thinking, your leg starts to jump under the table nervousness washing over you. Coffee? With me? Why?

How about that coffee place just outside the base, tomorrow 1300?

Your heart is pounding now your throat dry. Is this a date? 

Sure :)

Was the smiley too much, you put your phone down embarrassed. You hear it buzz picking up the courage to look 

See ya there :)

You let out a breath your leg stops jumping. Coffee with Johnny, surely it’s just a friendly thing to say thank you for helping with his ankle. It doesn't matter if it is or not but he’s on your mind for the rest of the day until you go to bed. 

————————

You show up early, the butterfly's have not left your stomach since the moment you woke up. You managed to switch your shift with another nurse so you could be here instead. Coffee sounded like too much especially with your nerves you opted for a tea. You find yourself checking your watch almost every second, your back is to the door each time it opens your heart stops and you turn to look. Jesus calm down woman, it’s just coffee. You try to tell yourself. A few minutes later and a few sips of hot tea, you start to calm. 

“Hey there lass.” You hear the familiar Scottish accent behind you. You turn in your chair to see him. He’s smiling of course he is he sits down in the chair opposite you. His skin looks darker or maybe it’s just the light in the room, his hair looks like it’s been freshly groomed. You get a proper look at his eyes, a beautiful deep blue. You can’t help finding yourself smiling.

“Hey,” You reply. He chuckles almost like he can feel the nervousness radiating off you. 

“What’s your poison?” He asks pointing at your cup. 

“Eh tea.” You reply realising you’ve almost finished it. 

“Typical brits,” he sighs playfully as he gets up. 

“Let me get it, you should rest your ankle.” You say quickly stopping him in his tracks. 

“Don’t worry love it’s been solid for a few days now.” You sigh that’s good at least. He gets up walking over to the counter. You take out a deep breath, your head following him as he orders beaming at the staff his accent cutting through the mumbling of the other patrons. You look back at your tea finishing it off as Johnny comes back with the drinks. He smiles as he sits down putting the tea in front of you. 

“Thank you,” You say warming your hands on the new mug. 

“Ne problem don’t you worry about it, I’m supposed to be treating you,” You feel yourself blushing again as that cheeky look comes back on his face.  

“Why?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. He chuckles.

“You helped me with my ankle, I wanted to say thank you.” He says as a matter of fact. 

“It’s my job,” you reply shrugging, feeling a rush of embarrassment washing over you. “You could have just caught me on the base.”

“Yeah,” Now his cheeks looked like they were changing to a gorgeous shade of pink. 

“Did you manage to get deployed?” You ask trying to move the subject on. He smiles leaning back in his chair.

“Na, whole thing got cancelled, I spent a few days in London.” He says smiling.

“Was Riley-I mean-lieutenant Riley was he with you?” You blurt out sipping your tea so the word vomit would stop. 

“Simon?” Johnny asked his smile getting bigger. “Oh yeah we spend a lot of time together.”

“Huh, that’s nice you must be a tight unit.” You say calming yourself. So his name was Simon, Simon Riley.

“What about you what have you been up to?” He leans forward sipping his coffee.

“Work, nothing really.” You smile.

“When’s your next leave?” He asks. 

“Two weeks.” He nods like he's thinking about something his lips pressed together. He leans forward on the table more.

“There was another reason I wanted to see you.” He says, his smile disappearing. You hold your breath in anticipation of what he’s going to say next. He takes a breath in for a second looking you in the eyes.

“I really wanted to see you again.” He said, okay that’s not bad. You almost want to laugh at how worked up you got yourself. He just wants to say thank you, he’s buying you coffee because he want’s to be nice. You helped him with his ankle. Now he’s asking if you’re single.

Wait what?    

“Single?” You ask, your brain trying to comprehend what you missed. He nods his smile coming back, at least that puts you at ease. 

“Yeah, I’m single. Are you single?” It seems like the appropriate time to ask him too. His lips are pressed together again like he’s trying to formulate a sentence in his head. 

“It’s complicated,” A cheeky smile forms on his lips as he sips his coffee. 

“What do you mean it’s complicated? Do you have a girlfriend?” You ask frowning at him.

“No.” He replies flatly.

“A boyfriend?” He puts his coffee down. 

“I wanted to see you cos I’ve spent the last week tryin’ te get ya out my head and it’s impossible.” He said leaning forward. You blush at his words. 

“What do you mean it’s complicated though?” Your heart beating faster in your chest you can’t tell if it’s the caffeine from the tea or the words from Johnny’s mouth but it was getting harder to concentrate. 

“I’m married to my work.” He says leaning back. You sigh, this has happened before. ‘I can’t be with you the job is too important’ It’s all too familiar, finding love when every one around you is throwing their lives on the front line is near impossible. 

“I get it,” You say trying not to hide your disappointment. 

“C’mon lass it don’t mean we can’t still be mates.” He says it sounds almost like a plea. You feel sad and drained, you didn’t know what to expect from the meeting but you weren't expecting to feel like you just got dumped by someone you didn’t even date. You look at Johnny his blue eyes look sad, he grips the handle of his coffee mug. 

“It’s okay, you seem like a nice guy but I know how this goes. We’ll talk maybe have sex a few times but sooner or later you’ll move on, or be deployed or I’ll move on or be stationed somewhere else…” You look at Johnny finishing the rest of your tea. And moving to stand up. He reaches out to you trying to get you to stay. 

“C’mon let me at least walk you back to the base.” You can’t help but see the pleading in his eyes his usual smile warms your heart. You go up and place a kiss on his cheek. 

“It’s okay Johnny, I need to go into town anyway.” You smile your hand patting his chest, you can feel the tight muscles under your hand only making it harder to turn away. But you pull your hand off his chest and head for the door.

————————

You make it two weeks having to almost actively avoid Johnny. Since whatever mission he was supposed to be on was cancelled he’d been helping round the base with all kinds of different things. You would bump in to him all the time, your eyes always betraying you and wandering to him whenever he was in your view. He spent a lot of time with Simon, the ‘big scary skull guy’ some of the other nurses would call him. 

“I heard his face was burnt off in a horrible accident.” One of them said one day as we were eating lunch in the mess. Your eyes had barely left Johnny’s face he was sat a few tables ahead of you. He seemed to like the fact you were always watching him. His eyes meeting yours and smiling. Sometimes you would look up and it would Simon's eyes staring you down. His gaze would always send shivers up your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck would stand up. The nurses giggling as they spread rumours about him. It was enough to piss you off, making you snap at them about spreading rumours like that.

“We’re not in secondary school anymore! Show some respect.” You snapped leaving the table. You knew you could feel Johnny’s eyes digging into you. 

When you made it home you welcomed the rest. Your small London apartment had been rented out for the few months you had been away, the place was going to need a good clean tomorrow. The thought of sleeping in a bed that had been home to a stranger for 5 months felt icky so you ended up curling up on the sofa turning the TV on for background noise. Your mind turning to Johnny. Wonder what he’s doing? Think he’s still at the base?

Your mind somehow turned to Simon too, thinking back to all the rumours you’d heard. None of them even remotely sounding plausible. Who cares, he has his reasons for the mask, it’s none of my business. Your phone buzzed and you reached over to pick it up. 

Make it home safe? 

It was Johnny, he hadn’t texted you since the coffee date. Well date was the wrong word. 

Yeah.

You hover over the send button wondering if this was a good idea or not. You take a deep breath in and hit send throwing the phone to the other side of the couch going back to watch whatever distraction was on the TV. You don’t even remember falling asleep.

You’re woken by a knock at the door, you look out the window the sun is peaking through the clouds, you check your watch its 10am. There is another knock. You pull yourself off the couch stiff from sleeping in such an awkward position.

“I’m coming.” You call yawning, looking through the peep hole. 

What the fuck? 

You open the door. 

“Johnny?” You ask shocked.

“Hey,” He says, his smile radiating off his face, his hair is a mess he looks like he’s barely slept. You look at him in stunned silence shaking your head. 

“I wasn’t completely honest with you.” He says. “Can I come in? I’ll be quick I promise.” 

“Not really the best opening line if you want to get into someone's flat.” You say.

“Scouts honour.” He says holding up 3 fingers. You roll your eyes and step aside so he can come in. 

“When I said it was complicated, it’s not cos I’m married to the job…” He trails off standing in your kitchen so there is at least a foot distance between you two. 

“I am married, to Simon.” Your mouth falls open at the revelation.

“Simon Riley?” you ask, almost shaking your head in disbelief.

“Yeah,” He shrugs.

“So you’re gay?” You say, but it feels like a question. 

“Yeah, well Bi, both of us. That’s why it’s complicated.” You shake your head not quite understanding. He seemed nervous all of a sudden.

“Well, we both still like women, and, you know-or I guess you don’t know-we experimented threesomes and what not.” He ran his hand through his hair. “There is something different about you, we’ve both been obsessed with you, can’t get you out our heads.” 

“Both?” You ask, your mouth still hanging open. 

“Aye, Simon’s not good with words though, or at least not till he gets to know ya.” He chuckles running his hand through his hair again. You take a deep breath out.  

“What do you want Johnny?” You ask. Is he asking me for sex? A threesome? 

“Have coffee with me and Simon.” He says.

“That’s it coffee?” You ask. 

“Yeah.” He says nodding. 

“You came all the way to my flat to ask me to have coffee with you and Simon?” You fold your arms, you can’t tell if you feel disappointed it’s not sex or annoyed that he’s basically invaded your privacy for something so trivial. He shrugs. You close your eyes for a second thinking about it. You sigh, it’s not like you have anything better to do while you’re on leave, and it is only coffee. You take a big breath in opening your eyes. Johnny’s smiling again, the smile that makes your heart skip a beat and the butterfly's wake up. 

“Okay.” You nod, You don’t get chance to finish your thought cos he’s thrown his arms round you squeezing you. 

“Thank you, thank you.” He says breaking from the hug. Your cheeks are definitely red now after feeling his body pressed against yours. You can’t help smiling. He reaches over for the door handle.

“I’ll text you a time and a place,” you nod as he goes out the door.

“Hey Johnny how did you find my address?” 

“A friend of a friend,” he smiles up at you from the stairs. You shake your head in disbelief. What the hell just happened?   

Next part AO3 link soontm

[hitchyboi]

🦴Fleeting Bliss🦴

FINISHED VERSION, Again very sorry to those that saw it before I finished it XD Accident

Nubbins let's himself try a favorite pass time of his twin and it doesn't go so well

Content Warning: Drug Use, Self Harm, Descriptions of gore and violence. Unhealthy family dynamics. Unwell mental health. The usual Sawyer Family Fun

Word Count: 4, 433

Dust covered boots trudged themselves up the stairs of an old farm house. Wooden slates creaking under the added weight threatening to snap, once white paint chipped away and yellowed with age. Nubbins cursed and grumbled to himself as he ascended the steps on a path to his room. Once he shouldered the door open he tossed the ratted pillowcase he used as a sack to the ground. Filled with new treasures and finds that once brought excitement now served as a downer that left a bitter taste in his mouth and caused another wave of pain to surge from the yellowing bruise covering his temple, just over his eyebrow.

Words echoed over and over in his head of the recent beating and berating by his older brother. Hog bitch. Dumbass. Rat bastard. A lowly no good waste of space... Another curse and kick that sent his door closed and he made his way towards the rat eaten mattress in his corner of the room. Falling onto the abused material Nubbins finally felt a scolding trail fall from his eye and down his cheek. Inhaling quickly with an attempt to prevent more from following he pulled a ball of matted racoon fur he kept by his pillow close to his chest. Pressing his face into the fur and welcoming the familiar scent of hot tar and decay. It was a recent find on one of his hitchhiking sprees, the coons' corpse was still fresh when Nubbins found it though rigor mortis had already set in. Giving the animal a permanent position of laying on its side as if merely resting for a moment rather then forever. Nubbins could feel his cheeks burning, blood bubbling under his skin and threatening to break it wide open. Eyes burning and throbbing with hot tears he finally relinquished his hold on with none to see. Buying his face further into his furry friend's body, small bones twisting under the tight grip of his lanky fingers. Dry fur tickling his nose and mixing with his scruff serving as his only form of comfort in the silent house.

Why did it matter so much to Drayton if he visited the graveyard? He needed more supplies for some of the bigger projects he planned on crafting. Those beeves don't even need their bones no more! Or their skin! But Nubbins had many uses for them, they'd just rot away or fall apart if he didn't collect them. They'd just be useless... like him...

A yell ripped itself from his throat as the words grew louder in his head. Pulling his legs up towards his chest, trapping the coon even closer, he tried to hide from it all. Hide from the words, the whispers. The disappointment. The beatings. The eyes, the eyes, how he hated the eyes. Always staring and always glaring. Always looking down on him, belittling him like an ant to be squashed. He wanted to turn those eyes into ones of fear, despair. Eyes that were looking at a nightmare, wet and bloodshot from crying. But there were no eyes for him to change, no victim to mock and torture. Just himself.

A snapping sound pulled Nubbins out of his thoughts, looking down he saw the now severed jaw of his furry friend loose in his hand. "No! No.. no no.. why?" He gasped and sat up, desperately trying to piece the jaw back into place. The detached lip falling back to his lap with each try. The burning in his face returned but from rage this time as the critter kept refusing to listen. Why would the critter choose now of all times to leave him as well? Leave him just like Bobby did when Drayton has to drag his wily ass back home after the first test. Leave him like Sissy did when she decided California was more her taste then home. Why couldn't just one person just stay?! The coon husk was thrown to the other side of the room, hitting the rotted wall with a heavy thud before sliding down to the floor. No doubt breaking more brittle bones. Nubbins glared at the darkened spot on the wall as his fingers twitched and danced, arm still held out in front of his body.

Heated brown eyes slowly trailed from the spot to one of the posters hung up close by. The bright colors and complex images serving as a more pleasant distraction then the dead animal he'd just thrown to his brothers side of the room. That's right.... Bobby came back... he came back in the end. And so did Sissy... they didn't leave him forever. Furrowed eyebrows slowly relaxed as he let his arm drop back to his side, observing the different decorations his brother had added to his corner. His bed has became more a nest of pillows and blankets, the wall was lined almost completely with different band posters he had acquired along with the addition of little colorful lights strung up here and there. They weren't overly harsh as most lights were to Nubbins, they were softer almost like the stars sitting up in the sky. His gaze soon landed on the ashtray kept near his bed with a few pre-rolled joints Bobby had excitedly talked about sneaking past Cook earlier that week. Nubbins has seen Bobby and Sissy smoke together quite a few times now, it was one of their favorite pass times. Even before they had left. Mention that it helps them to relax and Nubbins always enjoyed how giggly they tended to get not long after.

Springing off his mattress Nubbins quickly closed in on his target and grabbed one of the joints, head whipping around to check the closed door. Nancy had called with the news some of Johnny's victims were being a handful and needed assistance. Ending a beating short Drayton has brought Sissy, Bobby and Bubba with him. Forcing Nubbins to keep his ass at home or worse was to come. That.... meant Nubbins has some time to himself until they came back... and he really wanted to feel that level of enjoyment and rest he'd seen on his siblings faces. He didn't want to rot in his mattress is pain until morning again... not when he had an option now. Grabbing a sticker covered lighter and plopping his ass back onto the mattress, he lit the blunt.

Lifting it towards his lips, Nubbins inhaled. Smoke invaded his senses and burned his throat, ripping hacks and wheezes from his chest. Nose wriggling at the burning taste as his body doubled over, Bobby and Sissy made it look so easy. A few coughs here and there sure but they barely reacted otherwise. He could already hear Bobby's cackle at his pathetic attempt, through laughs he'd slap his back in an effort to help alleviate the wracks just past his ribs. Boney knuckles rap against his own chest instead as he straightened himself out, ridding himself from the worst of the coughing fit. Tongue running over cracked lips Nubbins looked back down towards the joint, eyes hardening with determination at the insulting object. He was gonna have a moment... a moment to relax and feel as happy as his siblings did.

It took a few more attempts before Nubbins was able to pull a hit without hacking up a lung. Pushing past the assaulting burn in his throat, like ashes coating the inside and relighting with each intake of oxygen. The bitter and earthy taste on his tongue was near retch pulling at first but grew more tolerable and then Nubbins finally felt a lightness. Like a rush of blood towards his head but instead of pooling and causing mind numbing headaches, the rush didn't stop. Didn't pool. Flowing up and past his head leaving him feeling lighter then ever before. Tipping his head back with shaking lips, Nubbins let the smoke flow back out. Watching the blurred lines float up towards the ceiling, swirling and dancing together at the same altitude he felt. Nubbins' head felt like it had been cracked open, skull split letting everything that's been locked inside and crammed together out. Emptied until there was nothing left but himself. Never had his mind felt so open. As the head rush plateaued he laid back fully on his bed, the soft fabric melting underneath his weight and cradling his body. Idly spinning the joint in his fingers a lopsided grin stretched across his cheeks, no wonder Sissy and Bobby enjoyed smoking so much. Nubbins normally would be pissed off at them for leaving him out but at the moment, he didn't care. He couldn't find a reason to care when he could lay here and continue feeling good instead. Eagerly lifting the joint back up to his lips, Nubbins inhaled more as his free hand slipped under his favorite loose shirt. Scratching the skin along his stomach lazily.

The bruising on his face long forgotten as he continued to watch the smoke dance around his room, moving like a waterfall in the wrong direction. Like how blood would pour out of a piggy's neck after he broke the skin with his pocket knife. Instead of painting the ground with a pretty shades, these flowed up towards the ceiling and probably past. Nancy always mentioned a place up in the sky, perhaps that's where they were going? What was that place again? Nancy always seemed to speak highly of it, something she rarely ever does bout anything. When was the last time Nancy said anything nice about them? About here? Sure she always feeds Johnny's damn ego, how 'perfect' and 'wonderful' her darling boy was. She never talks about home like she does about the sky place. Would she rather be up there rather then here? Grandpa wouldn't like that... should Nubbins wanna go there? He really don't wanna... He can't see how there'd be any pigs or beeves to toy with in the sky. No weird magical place in the sky could be as comfortable as his bed right in this moment. His body felt heavy, sinking further into a stained material as if trying to meld with it. The touch on his skin felt so soft and so comforting, Nubbins needed more of it.

Heaving himself back into a sitting position, Nubbins felt his body was lagging behind. Half a second behind his mind as he grasped the bottom of his shirt and pulled it off clumsily. Dropping the fabric to the side and eagerly diving back to the welcoming embrace of his bed. Wrapping his lanky limbs around one of the stray pillows still intact he had, nuzzling his face into the plush material. A pleasant tingle dancing across his skin from his face, down his arms and along his stomach. His skin felt alive and buzzing, not the usual energy that had him moving and bouncing but a kind he enjoyed just laying in. Laughter easily flowed out his mouth. Nubbins absolutely could get used to feeling like this, get addicted to it... who knew one person was able to feel so amazing. And all it took was smoking some weird plant? It pulled even more laughter from the depths of Nubbins' guts.

A burning licking at the tips of his fingers brought Nubbins' attention back to the joint, now barely a stump worth holding onto. When had he finished it? Blowing a raspberry at the brief disappointment he flicked the stub to a forgotten corner of the room. Aiming towards Bobby's side but he couldn't tell if his aim was successful or not. Sluggishly running a hand through his greasy strands his attention was attracted to the warm red glow of his dark room set up in the bathroom. Vision blurred as his body continued to move in slow motion, Nubbins could feel his heart pick up pace before he even was able to recognize what he was looking at.

Then his blood ran cold.

Eyes... the eyes were back. They were back and staring right down at him, blocking the comforting light and shrouding Nubbins in a thick shadow. It's inconsistent figure buzzing and pulsing like static as it stood at the end of his mattress. Its skin like a burlap sack filled with fleas all jumping underneath the surface, eager to get at his blood. Back pitched forward to loam over the young man. No sound escaped from either being. A bead of sweat dripped down Nubbins brow despite the goose pimples lining down his arms. Why was it here? Why now? Usually.... usually the didn't bother Nubbins until he was asleep. Was he asleep? When did he doze off? His head began to spin as his heart started pumping even faster. And yet... neither figure moved. A challenge to see which broke first. Which would cower and writhe under the pressure and everything was stacked against Nubbins. His throat started to tighten as he stared back into the figures gaze. Two white pinpricks being the only form able to fully solidify. He needed to get away... he didn't want to be stared at again. To be mocked and judged. Body now shaking and matching the pace of his heart Nubbins forced his body to move as quickly as he could. Throwing his blanket up at the figure and scrambling off his mattress and towards his dark room. Knees and palms scrapping against old splintered wood as he ducked inside the bathroom. Grasping onto the sides of the sink, the cold porcelain feeling like a shock to his burning skin. Desperately sucking in as much air he could now he was hidden from the figures' gaze. His chest heaving as he struggled to hold himself upright.

This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to be scared... cowering. He was supposed to be happy. Enjoying a moment why... why couldn't those figures just give him one damn moment! Always lurking in the corner of his vision then disappearing when Nubbins brought attention to them. Like a cruel joke, a game to see how far they could push him. Grandma used to say they were spirits or such.. not meant to do harm but yet they consistently followed, stared, mocked. Tormenting him and enjoying the fool he'd make out of himself at their sights. Nubbins lifted his head to look at himself through the cracked mirror above his sink. In that moment Nubbins' blood turned to ice one more. Heart dropping to the pit of his stomach to be eaten away at by acid. His chest started to heave as his lungs tightened. Looking towards himself in the mirror all he could see were the hundreds of faces surrounding him. Their gazes locked on him much like the figure still lurking within his room. Turning to press his back against the sink he whipped his head around in an effort to find solace. Yet every wall was adorned with moving eyes that thrived in his panic. Pictures he had taken for his own pleasure taking a life of their own, to jeer at their creator. He could hear the maniacal laughter as their one still images followed him. Surrounded him.

His heart hammered in his chest, beating against ribs and threatening to broke them at any moment as his lungs desperately tried to work. Dropping to his knees Nubbins grasped at his chest as his bones tightened around the offending organs, caging them more and refusing their functions. Moist fingers clawed at his chest desperately as he felt the room start to spin around him. Too tight. His chest felt far too tight, how was he supposed to breathe? How was his heart supposed to beat? Every attempt to suck in air seemed to make his ribs squeeze harder. They needed room... He could feel bruises starting to form where his heart was fighting against bone. Skin was snagged by grimy nails as Nubbins slammed his head against the floor. Splitting angry red lines down the length of his chest. Yes... it was too tight inside and he needed air. One way or another, Nubbins needed air.

A wet sob played for his audience as Nubbins started to tear at his skin with fervor. Nails scraping away layers of skin, only growing more vicious once blood beaded to the surface. It wasn't enough. Tears pricked at the edges of his eyes. It wasn't enough. With a down right feral snarl Nubbins tug his nails into his chest. Breaking past the skin the aiming deeper, pulling and tearing away at what he could. The sound of flesh tearing was dull to his ears, the blood that pooled onto the ground and seeped into his pants a mere afterthought. If a thought at all. He yelled. He yelled and cried until his throat ran raw, threatening to start bleeding and drown him. His body rocked with heaves as drool and bile fell from his lips adding to the stain pool beneath him. A muffled screech came from the confines of his room, the obstructed vowels vaguely resembling his name. The figure... it had to be the figure calling for him, trying to lure him back out. Panic flooded his veins at the implication, screwing his wet eyes shut with a cry. The tightness hasn't gotten any better, he couldn't dig his claws deep enough. He couldn't pull back enough meat to free his heart and lungs. Still they sat confined and strangled behind uneven bone. His arms burned with exhaustion as his body trembled like a possum soaked in the rain. A lightness pulled at Nubbins' head, lifting the pressure in his spine as his body collapsed. Darkness danced along the edges of his sight as he gazed out the doorway back into his room. The murmuring yelling was still droning in the back of his mind.

"Chop..." Nubbins weakly called as a new wave a tears coated his cheeks. The word breaking and barely audible from overworked cords. Vision blurring as familiar sneakers reached the doorframe.

~~

An irritated grunt was followed by the slam of the old wooden door as Chop returned home. Usually the young man enjoyed being drenched in the blood of an innocent victim, delightfully playing with them as they screamed and writhed under his hammer but today the bloodshed barely pulled forth more then a half energetic grin and occasional chuckle. The wellbeing of his twin was all he could focus on. Damn Cook didn't give him a moment to even check on him before dragging his ass to the truck. Chop made his displeasure very evident in hopes it would get him kicked to the curb. Luck just wasn't on the hippie's side this day as the rest of his siblings sat through his incessant complaints. When they made it to Nancy's he didn't waste time in wrapping the problem pigs up as quickly as he could. Nancy was pleasantly impressed with him yet he couldn't care less at the moment for his aunt's rare approval. He started walking. Down that dirt road back towards home with Drayton yelling at his heels for not helping with clean up.

Chop had only made it three steps into the house before he froze with his eyebrows jumping in concern. The house was quiet. A quiet house and Nubbins never coincided. Nubbins was just as loud and energetic as he was, being quiet never was a strong suit of theirs.

"N-Nubbins? Where... Where's ya at?" Chop called into the eerily still home. There was no reply, no response and that worried him more. Nubbins would avoid Drayton, avoid Nancy and sometimes Johnny if he was upset with him but Chop? Bobby? Nubbins never avoided him. Grabbing onto the railing Chop pulled himself up the stairs towards the second floor, knocking against the wall occasionally to announce his presence some more. Perhaps Nubbins was just invested in something and didn't hear him? Like one of his projects. He could faintly make out the sounds of movement coming from their shared bedroom, releasing some of the worry in his shoulders.

"Nubbins! What're ya so quiet for? House was to-to... well it was to yerself. I'da be... I'da be blasting some Iron Butterfly by now! Or.. or some Humble Pie! You know those guys... heh, well they're always good." Chop laughs as he shoulders their bedroom door open. His gummy grin slowly fell as he was met with the sight of an empty bedroom. The usual disheveled mess it's been with no twin in sight. A pungent order hung in the air, the sour skunk like scent mixed with smoke very familiar to the hippie. Blue eyes quickly clocking the roach that laid left on the ground between their mattresses.

"H-hey... hey Nubbins!" Chop called once more, the worry and concern remaking their home in his chest as he walked further into the room. Just barely catching a weak croak coming from the black room. Making a beeline towards the lone sign of life he crossed the threshold. Nubbins laid face down, barely conscious on the wooden slates, his face red and splotchy from obvious signs of crying. Making the birthmark painting the right side of his face almost unnoticeable. Blood and pile stained the ground around him with an arm outstretched towards the doorframe.

Cursing, Chop quickly dropped down to kneel next to him. Hooking his arms under Nubbins' and lifting his limp body up. A multitude of cuts littered the surface of his chest. Blood smeared across his flesh making it difficult to see how deep they went. Guilt starting to chew its way up as Chop propped his brother's body against the tub as gently as he could.

"N-now now, it'll ah... It'll be fine! Ol' Chop's gotcha now. Grandma 'n Grandpa shoulda- shoulda have something!" He gave a pat to his brothers shoulder, noticeably shakier than usual, before sprinting towards the neighboring bathroom. Ripping open the mirrored cabinet to rummage through the collection of poorly kept first aid. Chop winced slightly hearing the glass mirror slam into the wall, Grandpa surely woulda tan his hide if he were close by, that was a problem for later however. Grabbing the desired items Chop ran back to his brothers side and began dressing his wounds. If there was one thing Chop ever would be grateful about getting drafted... learning on the fly first aid came in handy. Some poking and prodding at the blood slick skin thankfully revealed the cuts weren't that bad. For Nubbins at least, little fucker's had plenty worse. Chop didn't even need to use the glue this time.

"Ya know! Heh, Johnny's in a.. in a lotta trouble now!" Chop laughed as he wrapped old bandages around Nubbins' chest, gauze placed firmly against the cuts as he glanced towards his brothers face. Eyelids drooped low but not fully closed as his gaze held a distant glaze. A nervous tongue swipe against his own lips Chop looked back to his task. "Nancy wasn't all happy with the girls he brought back this time. They was.. they was real squirmy too! You woulda had fun chasin' them! Couse she was being a.... a real bitch to us all night too! She- She tried snatching o' Sonny Bono here- Ha!" A small sound. So soft and quickly Chop almost missed it with his own presence but he saw the quick jump of his brother's chest. A small chuckle. Sure enough, distant eyes seemed as far this time as lips twitched to pull a weak grin.

"... Y-you look like an egg without him...."

A blink. And then another.

"I aint no egghead! Just cause.. Just cause I don't got my do no more! Oh! You hush up, r-ratface!" An unserious smack to the brunette's head followed before Chop hooked an arm under Nubbins' shoulder once more. Lifting his brother back to his feet and helping him out of the darkroom. Helping was an understatement. Chop practically dragged him back out as Nubbins' steps were still shaky and uneven. Leaning a majority of his body weight onto Chop which, admittedly, wasn't much. An occasional wince followed closely by a giggle escaped the younger twin as Chop helped him lay back down on his old mattress.

"Is Drayton still mad at me?" Nubbins' voice was a whisper, throat still raw. Chop ran a hand through his wig with a heavy breath, when wasn't Cook mad? Seemed like just breathing these days would set the old man off on any of their asses. Chop would say he was even worse than before he left, just when had he taken that turn? How long did Bubba and Nubbins have to deal with him before Chop came back? Grabbing the forgotten blanket off of the floor and chucking it back over onto Nubbins' curled up form he waved his hand dismissively.

"Probably more mad at a- at a me now." He couldn't quite tell how Nubbins felt with that reaction. Tired eyes stared off with a small hum in the back of his throat. No doubt exhausted from the episode he went through on his own.

"Y-ya know! Walking all the way back here gave me ah... a new idea! For a song! Thinking about calling it Wasteland! Cause like... cause there's no one on these roads, like a wasteland!" Chop grinned widely as he started talking about his newest idea. Turning back towards his side of the room and starting to arrange some things outside of Nubbins' vision. A small tired smile returned to Nubbins face as he listened as best he could, he really was trying but he couldn't deny how sluggish his body felt. How difficult generating enough energy to even blink, a sensation that always unnerved the always buzzing man but with Chops' eccentric ideas as a calming constant in the background. Nubbins felt more at ease.

"And then something like- Like ah... God! Where is god, where is god, where is- and it goes like that a few more times. Something like 8 or 9 times, yeah! Where is god, where is god, where is-" A snore breaking through and interrupting Chops' words redirected his attention towards Nubbins who now laid asleep. Finally at rest for the night. Walking over to his side Chop leaned over and softly placed the abandoned racoon carcass back in Nubbins' arms. Jaw now securely reattached with some safety pins and spare beads.

"I'll tell ya the rest in the morning."

Now... to find a hiding place for the rest of his joints.

(Credit goes to @cemetery-sunset for the headcanon of Nubbins collecting and using animal/human corpses as stuffed animals basically.

Also I pretty heavily referenced my own experiences with sleep paralysis hallucinations for Nubbins' episode. I may have needed to project just a lil bit)

[bubble-popping]

for all i've talked and answered questions about my Into the Fire au, I've yet to actually post my writing for it XD that changes today!

this isn't quite the beginning of the au but it's the beginning of if i ever write a full fic on it (do not hold me to that lmao) so yeah!

tw for mentions of torture, scars, and c!Techno being Weird about c!Dream

The admin pulled away from him, stumbling through the snow in bare feet. (It'd be a miracle if he hadn't gotten frostbite by now.) The cloak and thin prison uniform were the only things shielding him from the freezing temperatures. "No, you don't understand. I have to-I hafta go, I need to meet them-" "Meet who?" Techno questioned, a little harsher than he intended. Dream startled. A slip of the tongue then. Techno narrowed his eyes, shoulders squared as he approached. The shorter instantly shrunk.

"Um." He swallowed thickly. "F-for my armor, I-I need my armor back. I need to get it."

Chat wasn't buying it and neither was he, but he'd let it go for the moment. "I can make you new armor, Dream. You're in no condition to be going anywhere but inside that house." The piglin hybrid pointed to the cabin behind them.

"B-but, they'll find me, Techno! This is the first place they'll look! Sam and the guards and-and Quackity, oh god, Quackity-he can't find me! I can't let him find me-"

Techno abruptly grabbed him by his arms, gazing intensely into the single wide, terrified eye he could see of Dream's. "And he won't. They won't find you. I'll protect you, Dream. No one will lay a finger on you."

After a long moment of studying Techno's face, visibly struggling through an inner turmoil, Dream finally relented with a resigned sigh. "Okay... I'll, I'll stay for a little while..."

Techno softened his expression. "Good. Here, let me carry you inside. You'll get frostbite with your bare feet in the snow like this." Dream surprisingly gave no protest, he merely nodded. So, Techno lifted his malnourished body into his arms and entered the cabin, rushing to get the shivering bundle of an admin next to the fire place. It'd be utterly embarrassing if Dream died of hypothermia after he worked so hard to get him out of the prison.

Dream's skin was ice cold when Techno set him down in front of the fire. Even with Techno's warm red cloak wrapped tightly around his form, he wasn't exactly equipped for any extended time in the bitter arctic air. Techno got another blanket to wrap around him and a pillow for him to hug before closing the front door. With no chance of any coldness seeping into the home, Techno was a little slower in his movements. He slipped off his armor, hung his crown up, and pulled his boots off his feet. His gaze traveled to the shivering figure huddled by the crackling flames. Even after causing quite a bit of chaos earlier, the voices still spewed their nonsensical ideas, most of them being things he could do to Dream.

For now, he ignored them, and padded over to sit next to Dream. The blond flinched away at first, still not used to a touch that wasn't meant to harm him even after Techno had held him like he did. Perhaps the enclosed space and familiar hues of the orange fire were bringing back bad memories...

"It's okay, Dream. You're not in the prison anymore. You're safe. There's no one here but me and you," Techno cooed to him as softly as he could, putting some emotion into his usually unfeeling tone of voice.

Dream remained hesitant at first, leaning away from Techno and further curling in on himself. Techno had his hands up in surrender and kept still to let Dream decide for himself. The last thing he needed was Dream constantly cowering away from him.

Eventually, Dream's tensed shoulders dropped and he scooted closer to nuzzle against Techno's side. He still winced when Techno wrapped an arm around his shoulders, but luckily relaxed much quicker. Techno waited a few moments to let Dream settle before he began to rub his arm in slow, soothing motions. The rhythm made Dream's eyes droop and he felt an exhaustion permeate within him so deeply it made his body sag like his bones were turned to liquid.

Before unconsciousness could claim him, he murmured, voice further muffled by his barely intact mask and the layers surrounding him, "Th-thank you..." It also didn't help his voice was hoarse from screaming for hours, for days on end.

"There's no need to thank me, Dream. Not yet anyway. Not until I get my hands on those guys and-" Techno stopped himself. Probably not the best idea to scare Dream by saying all the horrid things he'd do to Quackity and Sam for harming his trophy.

Dream didn't respond, but Techno could still hear his quiet breaths so he wasn't concerned.

Only once his shivering had stopped did Techno speak again with a suggestion, "I think it'd be a good idea to look at some of those injuries and clean you up before we go to bed. Are you okay to walk?"

"'m not sure..." Dream screwed his eyes shut as Techno helped him to his feet. Moving was suddenly so much harder after having a moment of true rest.

His legs were shaking and grunts of effort left his lips during the process of just standing up. The second he tried to take a step, he immediately collapsed into against Techno. Dream whimpered at his own helplessness, a mix of shame and agony haunting his heart, but Techno shushed him placatingly.

"It's okay, I've got you. Do you want me to just carry you again?" Techno had both arms securely around the other, feeling Dream's bony hands grip at the front of his ruffle blouse.

"Please..." Techno gladly obliged. He once again lifted him into a bridal style carry, holding him close as he ascended the staircase to the second floor.

Passing his bedroom, Techno went to the bathroom to sit Dream on a small wooden stool.

"Is it alright if I help you undress? It'd make it a lot easier."

(Just the thought of Dream naked, weak and unable to fight back as Techno did what he pleased had the piglin hybrid biting back a groan.) Dream nodded, completely oblivious to the hole he was digging for himself.

Techno removed the thick blanket and red cloak from Dream's shoulders, then proceeded with much more caution to get the horrendous eyesore of a uniform off. Dream was hunched over as he sat so he didn't get much of a look at anything special, but he was quite entranced by the sprinkling of hardly noticeable freckles over his skin. He'd seen them before when Dream would roll up his sleeves or the very rare occasions Techno had seen his face without the mask and they were much darker and more numerous then. Months without sun hurt his trophy in more ways than one. He liked those freckles--not so much that he'd immediately let Dream go outside just so they'd be more obvious but still.

"Probably best we clean you up first, then tend to your wounds," Techno said. Dream just nodded again. So obedient and with such little persuasion. It was doing wonderful and dangerous things to Techno's mind.

The pinkette lit a fire under a cauldron of water and waited for it to heat up a bit before filling a bucket with the warm water. "Ready?" He asked, giving Dream a moment to mentally prepare himself, and poured the water over Dream's head. His thin body tensed and shuddered as the water cascaded over him, discolored into shades of red and brown. His mane of hair absorbed most of the water. Techno just knew that'd be a pain to deal with, already dreading the maintenance to come. Maybe Dream would let him simply lop it all off...

He repeated this process a few more times, making sure he rinsed every part of Dream's body that the other would allow. Anything more would have to wait for when he wasn't covered in cuts and bruises. Then, he got some supplies from the cabinet by the door and kneeled in front of the drenched blond.

"Where does it hurt the worst?" Techno asked as he began soaking a cloth in a potion of regeneration.

Dream unfurled his arms from around his own torso and held them out, revealing multiple slashes across his flesh. The scent of blood entered Techno's nose and it took everything in him not to spill more from the shivering man in front of him the way Chat begged him to. He took a hold of one of Dream's hands and was about to apply the potion when Dream suddenly pulled away. "P-please... Please, be g-gentle..." His voice shook like he was on the verge of tears.

"Of course, Dream. You know I would never hurt you." He left 'unless you give me a reason to' unsaid. Dream offered his arm again, letting Techno take it once more and dab the cloth to each cut, healing both old and new wounds. Dream stayed mostly still and quiet during it, only wincing occasionally.

Once his arms were done, Dream straightened his posture for the first time to expose his chest. The skin there was just as bad, if not worse, than his arms. Lacerations, bruises of varying colors, and even burn marks. Techno restrained from commenting as the only words on his tongue were promises and plans of revenge. He wet the cloth again with more of the potion and healed what he could.

An hour later saw Dream dressed in new clothing that hung off his skinny body and his hair pulled into a ponytail to be dealt with later. Techno never really thought about it before, but he certainly was now: the contrast between their respective sizes. Being part piglin had Techno nearly a foot taller than Dream, and don't even get him started on the body mass difference exacerbated by the prison. Techno could easily wrap his hands around Dream's waist and practically have his fingers touch. He could pick him up and carry him around with such ease. It gave him too many ideas to count.

Techno helped Dream to the bed and the blond was awkward as he lowered onto the mattress. As if the whole thing was foreign to him, and it probably was. Months of sleeping on hard obsidian would do that to a person, make them uncomfortable on a clearly superior place to rest.

Dream struggled to find a good position to lay in, so Techno spoke up, "Would it be better if I laid with you? I won't if you don't want me to, but it might help to-"

"Yes, please," Dream answered before Techno had even finished. Techno chuckled softly and climbed in bed beside him, feeling Dream immediately cling to him. There was still the occasional shiver that left Dream's body but other than that, he was okay. He was clean, healed, and dressed in some of Techno's old clothes which Techno absolutely loved. Oh, how he couldn't wait for his trophy to be ready for him...

[elvenbeard]

2077, September

“I’m wondering if this is what Alt meant when she said Soulkiller would… kill my soul. Leave me nothing but a cluster of memories and thoughts… A blurry copy of myself, trapped in a body so adjusted to Johnny already that it would’ve been smarter to just – …”

Look at how far you've come. You're the King of the fucking Afterlife, a Night City legend... but as it is with Night City legends, they tend to die young.

Vince is 28 by mid-to-late 2077, every other person his age has so much to live for, to look forward to... yet his thoughts are still pre-occupied with the same problem they have been since April, just with a new twist: how the hell am I gonna survive my own body trying to kill me now?

He'd been told that Johnny would slowly wipe out his personality, his memories, his existence, but even with Johnny gone now, for good, an amicable separation in the end... Vince doesn't feel the same anymore. Is he even himself still? Or just a not-entirely-accurate copy of the Vince that once was? In the end, did he wipe himself out with the help of Alt and Soulkiller, without Johnny even having a fault in it so much?

Just like after Jackie's death, Vince cannot help but wonder: would it have been better the other way around? Should he have stayed back in Cyberspace, give Johnny a second chance, changed man that he was by then? But this body was Vince's, had always been, logically he knew it... But something was off, not quite the same anymore.

He has so much to fight for now, not even only abstract concepts like a good reputation or "being remembered" that he was so focused on at the start of all of this. In the chaos and hardship he found friends, love, forged connections he could have never dreamt of - in spite of and because of Johnny, and for that he's thankful.

He has so much to lose, more than ever. Giving up is not an option, has never been.

Vince through the years (8/9)

I mentioned many times before that I love the Sun ending cause it fits really well for Vince for many reasons. He's a good merc, but he'd make an even more amazing Fixer with his background, he's hella ambitious, smart, cunning, organised, and just.... hhhh everything!! But the Soulkiller thing still fucks me up so much everytime and the more I think about it. Anyone know the plot-twist of/played SOMA? Yeah... yeah. If you know, you know.

The one thing that always really bothered me about the Sun Ending though, is one of the last things he gets to say before the credits being "I have nothing left to lose" when... no, clearly not. We accept that the council has made a decision but it's a stupid decision! Blaming it on his nerves and not having a good time with Mr. B, distrusting his ass for good reasons, that he says that at that moment XD

That being said... I know everyone has a slightly differently timeline of events, and I wanted to share bits an pieces of mine in this context (still a wip more or less, but I have some set dates for certain events because I love angst).

Thursday, Nov. 5th 2076 -> meet Jackie at Lizzie's, booted from Arasaka

End of December -> First Gig with Jackie

[A lot of the early gigs for Regina and Wakako (but a few of the other Fixers, too), happen during the time of the 6-month-montage for my headcanon]

Sunday, April 4th 2077 -> "The Rescue"

Monday, April 5th 2077 -> "The Ride"

[preparations for the Konpeki Plaza heist in the following days - a bit more elaborate planning would be needed imo than what's shown in game, the Maelstrom meetup alone, esp. if you meet Meredith upfront, wouldn't be something Vince would do over the course of a fun afternoon]

Friday, April 16th 2077 -> Konpeki Plaza Heist, arrival at the hotel in the early afternoon

Saturday, April 17th -> V wakes up in the landfill in the evening

[stay at Vik's to recover - mostly from injuries sustained during the fights and the operation; since this is the future it would probably not be as long as we'd have to stay in hospital with today's medicine; I think V would also get more glimpses into Johnny's memories as he sleeps/dreams]

Tuesday, April 20th -> V is brought home and Johnny appears at night

Wednesday, April 21st -> Breakfast with Takemura xD

[over the course of the next few weeks everything up to "Play it Safe" happens, including the Hunt for Hellmann and the search for Evelyn and the Voodoo Boys; a lot of it is going on simultaneously, but helping Panam and going after Hellmann and such is something that would take at least 3-4 days with minimal travel inbetween - but V could for example talk to Mr. Hands while waiting for the Kang Tao AV to get the meetup with Brigitte scheduled and help Takemura while Evelyn is recovering, and so on.]

Mid-May 2077 -> Attack on the Parade in Japantown (the attack on the parade and the few quests that follow with Takemura's safehouse and V and Johnny escaping to the Motel etc. all happen over the course of 12ish hours in my head, cause it wouldn't make sense to trail off doing gigs or other stuff while Takemura and Hanako sit there and wait super on-edge XD)

Friday, May 14th -> Johnny's wild bender

Sunday, May 16th -> Ebunike & Oil Fields

Tuesday, May 18th -> Movie-Date with Rogue

Thursday, May 20th -> first meeting with Kerry😌

Tuesday, May 25th -> Samurai "Reunion" Concert

Thursday, May 27th -> Kerry has a gig for V

Tuesday, June 1st -> Dark Matter show with Us Cracks (and in the following days Blue Moon's stalker gig, before Boat Drinks)

Friday, June 4th -> Boat Drinks 🚤🔥

[a tiny little peace of mind pls before it all goes to shit XD]

Wednesday, June 9th -> Embers-Meetup with Hanako (headcanon time: I think, with how dangerous and secretive everything is with Hanako, they would agree on sth like her calling V with a date for the meetup at Embers at some point, when she feels it is safe. Maybe he'd still formally agree at some point "all right, starting now, feel free to call me anytime and I'll come, I'm ready"; so there is some plausible reason as to why "Meet Hanako at Embers" sits in your journal for around 20 gigs revolving around Johnny's past without consequences XD)

Thursday, June 10th -> V's 28th birthday, bc I love angst :D (as I said above, the meet at Embers would be something more or less spontaneous, and so he'd be like "aw shit, I wanted to spend my potential last birthday not thinking about the Arasakas' offer too much", not expecting he wouldn't really walk out of the restaurant on his own again. The attack on Arasaka Tower would happen the same night, after the meeting with Hanako, and so by the time midnight strikes and V walks into and out of Mikoshi, it would be his birthday in multiple ways, kinda. Cause ~symbolism~)

[time skip with very important things happening that explain how V got his mansion and became King of the Afterlife]

Thursday, September 2nd -> "Blaze of Glory" - Meetup with Mr. B at Afterlife (I put it in September because Alt's estimate for how long V has to live find a solution to his problem is around 6 months. So, by September half of that time is over, but V'd also have a very reasonable amount of time to plan the Crystal Palace Heist and make it a success, looking at how he managed to survive the main story events in a shorter timeframe. I think the outlook could definitely be seen as positive; also basing this a bit on what a femV romancing River says in the Sun Ending, that "months of prep" went into this "last gig". Also, the very prominent clothing ad "Focus on Winning this Fall" - "fall", as in, the season - visible at the start of the 6-month-montage also kinda makes me think the endings take place during Sep-Nov, cause we love foreshadowing in this house)

Saturday, September 4th -> First Chapter of "Love is Stored in the Olive Jar" XD and from then on we'll see o.o

Oookay.... that ended up being longer than I thought XD But yes... seing what V has accomplished in a relatively short amount of time (and I mean... about 1.5 months can definitely be "a few weeks, at most", if we look at Vik's original estimate of the situation) I think with twice as much time to plan *just one gig* (even though, admittedly, an insane one) his chances of it going right are good. Maybe not 100% according to plan, cause something always goes wrong, but yeah. Fully depends on everyone's V's of course, and whether at that point they *want to* continue fighting, have something to fight for and lose - Vince definitely does - but yeah. I choose to interpret the Sun ending as a positive outcome that gives V another shot at life xD Maybe not in the way he expected buuuut... 👀

Thanks for reading so far if you did, would love to hear different takes and how you'd space out the timeline of the main story for your V!

[un-holly-chaos]

Here it is!! (Under the cut)

I'm going to post the thing Here(on this blog), full chapters as soon as they're written folks! Until someone gives me a better idea or the book is finished xD

Chapter One

There is a point, Holly thinks, when you must accept that you are bad at everything, and that this is how your life will go. Every day you will wake up, and put a new attempt into the world, and watch with bright, hopeful eyes, as it falls apart in front of you. She has gotten very good at this, and is quite accustomed to the routine.

She put her amulet in the amulet-slot on the door of the massive, square marble building, in this otherwise empty-for-miles grassy field. The door didn’t respond, and it made her irritable. She had been walking through this ridiculously empty field for hours and hours and it had been loudly raining, and her magic umbrella kept disappearing and water would come splashing all over her head and be cold while doing so. And the door was ignoring her. She tried the amulet again, and instead of opening the door, her umbrella spell flickered again, and she got rained on some more. A gem fell out of her amulet when she removed it from the door. She held in the screams.

As she was putting the gem back into the amulet, the door was manually opened by the handle on the inside, and she was let in. The person who had been so kind as to operate the mechanics of this contraption for her, was Trudy. Trudy was decent at everything, and often let Holly in when the door ignored her.

“We need to put the handle on both sides of the door.” Holly announced. The lively bar room took no notice.Trudy shuffled awkwardly for a moment, then opened her mouth. “See, I told Baringer about that, like you asked,”

“And?” Holly glared at her.

“Well, yes. And he said we can’t put a handle on the outside of the door, because the raccoon would get in, and… you know. He just really doesn’t want a repeat of that incident.”

“Well then maybe Baringer should put up a raccoon ward like I suggested and we could have a double-sided door handle!”

“Yes, but that costs, and he has other priorities, and you’re glaring at me again, and honestly argue with him yourself next time? And I’m going to go finish my game now. Bye.” And Trudy waved and walked off to a table with people and cards, and sat there. Holly wanted to keep arguing, but she was tired, so instead she found her way to the bar. This took some doing, as it was crowded, and crowds made the bar restless, so they kept wheeling it around the room. She collapsed onto a stool, and the bartender approached her. “Randy,” she said, “I need a Dry Wine.” He didn’t say anything, but looked at her sodden robes, nodded, and stepped off to grab a bottle and glass. He returned, “We only have apple left.”

“I don’t care what flavor it is, I just want to not squelch in my boots anymore.”

He poured her a glass and set it on the bar. “So… Why don’t you just try an umbrella spell?”

“Randy,” she said patiently, “if one more person questions me tonight, I will summon every raccoon in this damn meadow, and I will caffeinate them.”

“Okay.” He said, and stood there. “So, I’m not asking, but don’t you normally struggle to summon things?”

“I struggle with all spells, now shut up and leave me alone.” She wished she could get a potion that would make the people around her tactful and perceptive. She drank the Dry Wine, which wooshed quite a lot of water out of her hair and clothes, and left her bedraggled, but dry. She sighed. Footsteps suddenly separated from the crowd, and stopped behind her. She ignored them, hoping they would go away. They sat down next to her, and belonged to her boss, Danrius.

“Hi Holly,” he said

“Danrius,” she begrudged

“Where’d you uh, put the burglar?”

”I couldn’t catch him.”

”Cool, cool. What do you mean you couldn't catch him? Cause like, call me cuckoo, but I did give you this assignment, of a non-magical burglar, and I teleported you there, to where he was, with my personal office portal, and you had your amulet and everything, and you just… didn’t catch him? I’m just making sure I understand this correctly…”

”Yes, Danrius, that’s- he got away from me.” She rubbed her face.

”Okaaaaayyy, how’d he do that? You’ve got the magic cage spell right? Did you try casting that on him?”

”Yeah, but it didn’t work and he ran, and the magic bolo spell broke on contact, and the running-through-mollasses spell just made a puddle on the ground, and then I had an asthma attack and my inhaler was empty. I filled it up at the pharmacy on my way back.” She stared dejectedly at the empty glass in front of her. There was a long pause, as this information trickled into Danrius’s brain.

”You had an asthma attack?”

”From running after him, yes.”

”Right, ok. See, this is the kind of thing I’m talking about; you don’t even think to cast a flying spell on yourself to save the trouble. Or like, use a floating disc, that’s a classic move. Look Holly, as much as I like you, I’m kind of having an issue, and if you can help me with it that’d be great, but there’s a point where I can’t put more money into an employee than I get out. You have, kind of, not brought in a single bounty this month, and there’s this guy who interviewed with me yesterday, who’s pretty powerful looking. He conjured a whole rainstorm, and it’s still going from yesterday, and as the guy who directs the hiring and maintaining of the wizards here-“

”The manager.”

”Right. As the manager, it’s my job to uh, keep people who can, y’know, consistently cast spells. It’s the main point in the job description on the application.”

”Yeah, but I can do that though, I cast spells all the time!”

”For sure, for sure. But the spell, working, is kind of the point, and if I recall correctly, last two times you brought someone in, you had one tied up in physical ropes, and the other in a pair of, how’d you put it, ‘borrowed?’ Handcuffs? And I just feel like those are pretty non-magical solutions to magical problems, and I’ve been ignoring it for a while, but there’s this guy, Theobold the Thunderous, and he shoots lightning out of his fingers.”

”Are you…? Dan look, if I get the job done, does it really need to be with magic? It just feels like semantics,”

”Somatics, Holly, and no, not really, but, he shoots lightning out of his fingers, and it’s still raining. Look, I’m not happy about this either, but I can’t afford another add-on to the payroll, so as much as it pains me to say ths, I’m gonna have to let you go. We’ve had good times working together, and I know you’ve been putting a lot of hours in, so I’ll give you a few days to say goodbye. As long as you turn in your room key tomorrow, cause I told Theobold he could be moved in by the weekend. Big thanks Holly, I appreciate it!” He stood, slapped her shoulder, and flashed his teeth professionally. Then before she could collect her words, he stepped back into the crowd and was gone.

In two hours, she would collapse face down on her bed. In fifteen hours she would be standing outside the front door, in the still-drizzling rain, trying to summon raccoons. For now she just waved Randy over and asked for a potion of inebriation while she still got free bar. It looked and tasted like rice-milk, and was fully indistinguishable from the real thing, except for its attribute of getting you quite high or drunk, depending on the day. There are more specific potions out there, but they’re more expensive, so naturally, they weren’t here. She fought around the large ice cubes for several minutes before thinking to take them out and depressedly watch them melt on a napkin. She got the next one without ice.

A good while later, she gave up trying to remember the speak-with-marsupial spell, and got up. A headrush became very noticable. It didn’t go away. She compromised, and simply willed herself in the direction of the elevators. Her body successfully took her that way, rather clumsily, but she arrived. It was a magic elevator. The kind with no walls, and a levitator platform. She stepped in, and looked up trepidatiously. The long tunnel swayed above her like a willowy tree trunk that she was somehow inside of. She felt like a bug. She put her amulet in the slot on the pedestal to make it go up. Nothing happened. She realized she forgot to actually do the spell, and tried again, with magic this time. The elevator pad slowly began to rise. She breathed a sigh of relief, and contemplated whether life would be easier beneath the bark of a tree. Her conclusion was interrupted when the pad stopped at the next floor. That was the problem with this elevator, it stopped at every floor, and you had to magic it into going again, every time. She never got it to work every time. The whole place was like that, what with doors with no handles, and elevators with no automation. Wizards were wholly pretentious, she decided. She put her amulet in again, with magic. Nothing happened. She blinked slowly, praying to the god of small mammals (raccoons were still on the mind) that this place would one day go down in wonderfully warm, dry flames. A person swam into her awareness by entering the elevator, and magicking it to go up with their own amulet. She went back to picturing herself as a bug. She wasn’t sure what kind of bug lived in trees, but if she imagined it in first person instead of third person it wouldn’t matter; except she got hung up on how many legs she would have as an unspecified tree bug.

She realized she wouldn’t notice when she arrived to her floor with her eyes closed, so she set aside her insectoid ponderings, and focused. She had no memory of how many floors she’d passed, so she checked the rune stone on the side of the pedestal. It had all the floor numbers in descending order, and each one would light up as the pad stopped there. There were only three left until hers. The person there with her got off of the elevator. She amuleted the pad, with magic.

It took her all of three excruciating minutes to get the pad going again, and then only a few tries at the next stop. She finally reached her floor, and climbed off the pad with great relief. When she felt steady again after what felt like an hour, but was definitely not more than a minute or two, she counted the doors down the long hall till she got to her room, and rediscovered the wonders of old, beat-up mattresses.

Fourteen hours later, here she was, standing in the drizzle attempting to summon raccoons, an hour late on her day’s schedule. It had taken her over an hour to pack, despite only having a duffel bag and her amulet. Said amulet steamed. She wasn’t typically a vengeful person, or very wrathful actually, but ever since she had set foot into that horrible, grand, elegant, fake-marble bounty-wizard-hub, she had been having problems with it. Everything was magic powered, but nothing was automated, so she got stuck everywhere, and hated it. She fiddled with the gem, trying to adjust the rubber band so she could try the summon again. The spells were always worse when the gem got loose, she figured it was something about keeping the etching connected like a sort of circuit. Raccoons were tree animals too, so she didn’t know why they were even here, but Baringer hated them, and they kept setting everything on fire whenever they got inside, thus the one-sided door handle.

She cast the spell again. Her amulet sparked, and after a moment the grass rustled. A small face, familiar with the allure of arson, and well acquainted with the improved flavor of stolen foods, appeared. It was only one raccoon, but it would have to do. She put amulet in door-slot, and focused her magic very poignantly. It opened. She ushered the little creature in, and closed the door behind it, walking away. The grey sky hung heavy, and the pale grass scratched against her robes, but she was an unemployed woman, and couldn’t muster anything resolute to think about it.

After a few hours the sun came out, and she felt a bit better. She wondered about the success of her raccoon, and was in a faintly good mood when she arrived at the nearest inn that night. She booked a room and slept uneventfully.

The next day she entered an actual city, and wandered about a bit. At one point she found an abandoned silk scarf on the sidewalk. It was red with nice geometric designs, so she tied it onto her belt. She bought a pastry from a gluten-free bakery, and felt optimistic about it. The pastry was dry, flavorless, and over-priced, but it was so rare she had pastries she could eat, that she didn’t mind. She decided she would refill her water bottle and find a new place to work. Who knows, maybe a flier would advertise a cool new job she’d be really good at, like taking care of lizards. She found a public drinking fountain, and gratefully filled up her water bottle. As she turned to face the city street, bustling with people and new opportunities, a damp newspaper found its way to her face, and stuck. She peeled it off, debating if it could be considered horror-enough to be the last straw. She decided to read it before she decided.

Half of it was smeared by being damp, but in the middle of the page was an advertisement looking for “Fresh Wizard College Graduates, Looking For Their First Job!” She’d graduated two years ago, and had lost three jobs since then, but she was qualified, and that was what they were really asking. “This is serendipity. This one’s gonna work, I’m gonna get this job, and not fail miserably!” she lied, to no one in particular. She felt confidence rushing through her, along with the paper pulp rubbing off on her fingers. She dutifully took the paper to the bin, and bought a new copy of the same one so she could read the address listed. It was 154th Kennings Ln, just off of Side St. She began her purposeful meander, in hopes of finding a directory board. Or one of those bus stops with the maps on them.

[torihakaraublog]

Obey Me! Nightbringer "Happy ⭐️ Holidays!" Pop Quiz pt.1

!SPOILER WARNING FOR THE EVENT!

My thoughts on part one of the 2023 Christmas holiday event.

Okay so first off I have to talk about the sprite outfits. They are split into 2 types; Santa's (??) (The brothers) and reindeer (everyone else). Personally I think all the 'Santa' ones are kinda meh, prob cause some of the brothers colours are not holiday colours. The reindeer ones are adorable and fit the holiday spirit great, except Luke's. Luke's is just kinda lacking, they could have taken him out of his beret just this once. Solomon's is my favorite! It looks so comfy.

It felt like there was alot going on with this event so I probably missed some things.

Event starts off with the announcement of a holiday decorating competition to win the Krampus Star which grants a single wish. Probably my least favorite Christmas activity to do in a group lol but it's a good premise.

This turned into a hallmark movie real quick 🤣

Levi you good here?? Lmao

I'm just casually forced to help every one, then who ever wins I have to approve their wish. Please everyone is gonna wish for the same thing (spend Christmas with me) and I'll end up spending it with everyone anyways...

Now things start getting weird. Everyone is fighting and Barbatos figures out its a rare moon cycle that released an Dark Demon Santa (I started laughing here).

Collecting things with everyone was kinda cute. An adorable momment between Lucifer and Beel that solidified my HC that Lucifer can't say no to picking up Beel tho hes too heavy xD Also liked that Mammon got to show a bit of his responsible older brother side! <3

The spell takes over everyone and Raphael is told to break up the fights for some reason tho he has a short fuse himself.

Then somehow everyone decides not to fight and it works?? Christmas spirit??

I was basically shaking in my boots at learning Diavolo absorbing the DDS's power was the only plan and if it goes bad the Devildom would be left without a ruler for some time. Like this is SERIOUS serious! (And also makes the plot super intresting :0)

So glad they included a conversation between Diavolo and Lucifer (tho it would have been better if I wasen't there). Diavolo gave Lucifer the new start he and his brothers needed and I know if something happened to Diavolo, Lucifer would blame himself. This conversation was needed so he could know where he stood in relation to the problem/solution if I'm making any sense.

I think I'm gonna piss myself (sorry for the crude language lol)! THANK YOU BUT GIVE IT TO BARBATOS NOT ME.

The context for this image is Solomon beginning to understand Christmas spirit :3

Foods Mentioned

Mushy Shroom (in cave??)

Quetzalcoatl Brain Sandwich (cafeteria, apparently Bel's fave)

Quetzalcoatl Brain Pudding (cafeteria)

pudding and sandwich are mixed later on.

I'm assuming in the next part of the event we are gonna have to find the DDS 🤔

[thewollfgang]

I think if there was an Olympics category for the fastest computer unpacking and set-up, I would win. One would think I set up computers all the time with how quick I did it. XD I wanted the patch so bad.

Very cash money of Larian to add forehead kisses and new camp animations. And Astarion's epilogue title 🥺 hits right in the meow meow, I can't wait to get it in my own game.

While it was downloading though, I thought I'd distract myself by sculpting in Blender (wifi is being finicky right now so I figured it'd take quite a while) and only minutes ago did I snap out of it. I don't know what time the download finished but I ended up with this (I'd say) mostly anatomically correct, not-quite-done skull.

I'd already done one before but Blender glitched and sent that file into the ether. This one, I'm pretty sure, looks better than the old one anyway. Would have been cool to compare the two though. Some parts still need a lot of work, like the eye sockets and nasal cavity, but I'll get back to it once I get the new patch out of my system. XD

I had FULL confidence in you, BG. You get the gold 🥇I've just downloaded the patch today, but I didn't get around to playing it. I've had an incredibly stressful week and I spent most of the weekend thus far sleeping or crafting.

(I won't bring the vibe down by going into too much detail, but I was at the parade/rally in Kansas City and was near the mass shooting this Wednesday. Thankfully, neither my mom or I were hurt. It was incredibly chaotic and I'm still...kind of processing what happened. But! I'm here and still trucking along so I'm very grateful for that.)

So yeah I haven't had the pleasure of the new smooches yet, but I think I'll boot it up tomorrow and play a little bit. Larian knows what the people want. I hope they pad Wyll out a little bit more, too. I think he's neat and needs some love and content.

I have always wanted to learn Blender! Do you like it? I have a 3D printer (my crafting project right now is actually a set of mandalorian armor I'm printing myself!) and usually use other people's stl files and such but I'd like to learn how to make my own files, too. I think, as an owner of many skulls, your skull looks great.

I've found when a computer eats the first draft of something, the second one is almost always better. It is nice to compare though. I'd like to get an imitation human skull (cause the ethics of real human skulls...are varied) and place this fancy marble in the eye socket 😅 it glows under a black light and it needs a cool home to rest in.

It was good hearing from you, as always! I hope you settle into your new place and feel nice and comfy ❤️

[iamthecomet]

And hoot again :D

Yeah, you’re very right (both with so quickly depending on it being overwhelming and with it showing how much I needed it)

The trip to therapy went quite well! The bus wasn‘t overly full on both ways, so I could sit down which was really good. I‘m still nervous for the first time that I’ll sit down on the floor if all seats are taken (it would be safer and better for me, but before I was always too scared to do that. Now that I have a cane that makes it sort of visible that I have trouble walking/standing, I want to try to do it).

I have suspected that I have hypermobile joints for a while (the problem is that I’m not in enough pain to really struggle so much that it would really be worth seeing a doctor for, but I’ll mention it when I got my next appointment). Part of the problem is my bad memory, because due to that I honestly can‘t even remember if I’m in pain (I know stuff constantly and quickly starts hurting but that’s probably normal in most cases and I also have a really high pain tolerance).

My body can do things it‘s apparently not supposed to do though

But I feel it with the cane, cause my wrist always sort of wobbles cause it’s really not stable. So I tried applying tape today, but only went to the very near grocery store that takes like a minute to walk to. So I don’t really know how much it has helped yet regarding walking with the cane. I do feel more comfortable though, and I think it‘s also helping me with writing and drawing

(On the video I watched the guy explained what the hypermobile thing in that hand he was showing it on is exactly, what it would look like if it wasn‘t hypermobile and what the tape is gonna do. And my thumb has the exact position that is a result of the joint being hypermobile (so like my suspicion doesn’t seem to be too wrong)

Since noon I had a really really bad headache that felt like my skull was split open and my brain crushed. So really not nice. I took 1,5 ibuprofen and later one paracetamol but nothing helped.

Then I tested myself cause I remembered that the only time I had such a bad headache was when I had COVID and boom! Positive

So yeah. I‘ll stay in bed tomorrow (and my head hurts so fucking much. I hate it)

I‘ll send you pics when the order gets here if you want! :D

But two pairs of Doc Martens sounds very nice!

A really sweet and funny story:

A friend of mine asked me to explain Ghost (as in, explain everything).

Three days ago I sent a video of like a few clips of Jutty, one of which being this clip in which he is like “unfollowing is bullying“ and “wHaT iF i WaS cOsMo 🧐🤨“

And since then, we‘ve constantly been sending “wHaT iF i WaS cOsMo 🧐🤨” back and forth (then we started to send the clip as a only one time viewable video so it wouldn’t be visible beforehand).

Today, I cut off the beginning of an edit and put that clip behind that to hide it and sent it to them. They have also hidden it in a poll on WhatsApp already

It turned into a game and we can‘t stop laughing about it because it‘s so fucking silly xD (it‘s practically like Rick-rolling)

wHaT iF i WaS cOsMo 🧐🤨

(You just got wHaT iF i WaS cOsMo 🧐🤨-ed. You‘re welcome xD)

~ @owlishanon

I'm glad it's still going well! It's good that it gives you so much peace of mind and that you feel confident doing what you need to do now without worrying that something awful is going to happen. But I'm so sorry that you have COVID! It's rotten. I hope you get lots of rest and your headache doesn't last too long. Sleep and drink lots of water! You can definitely send me pictures of the stuff you get when it comes in! I always love to see people's hauls! I am very excited about my docs. I paid $140 for both pairs, which is like half of one what one of them costs brand new. I feel VERY lucky about it. One pair is rusty orange suede, they're short boots. Great for every day. The other are standard black knee highs which have been my dream boots since, like, forever (I've owed many, many pairs of knee high lace-up boots, but none of them were Docs). The wHaT iF i WaS cOsMo 🧐🤨 thing has me giggling. Thank you for that. What a great joke to have with your friends, seriously. Fucking Jutty. He kills me in the best ways.

[gnomeicecream]

Joy! Joyous day! I have been tagged by @scribeprotra in an ask game. Four Ships, Last Song, Current Reading, Last Movie, and Craving

4 Ships:

Yue Qingyuan/Shen Jiu: Two great tastes that taste great...ah no, too bitter plah plah. XD Shen Jiu has a very strong presence in the narrative despite dying on page -1. He is the protagonist of a story where things never got better up until he became the next protagonist’s villain. And Yue Qingyuan loves that for him. Did you need him to hide shidi’s body? Do you want him to sweat the sweat from your brow from beating that one child in particular?

Seriously though they have so much potential to dig into. Reveling the one key information each needs, that one event didn’t happen or happened in a different way or to someone else, great! The high charge of emotion that is bubbling like a pressure cooker! Eee!

3xun, Nie Mingjue/Lan Xichen/Jin Guangyao: Just like the above ship, but now with new angles! Class struggle, legitimacy, compassion, justice, reasonably priced love and a hard boiled egg (leading to a son being thrown down like, four sets of stairs. Seriously. Meng Yao is the spice that holds this recipe together he can have whatever he wants). There is that same pressure coming from things just never meshing right because people are talking past eachother as a result of their individual upbringings and traumas.

Cloud Strife/Barret Wallace: Man. Big. Mmmmm. Cloud Strife could use some looking after, and Barret Wallace has daddy energy to spare! This one is more of a rare pair off to the side of the great Seph, Aerith, Tifa, Zack, all those other soldiers, war. They have things in common! Both are dual survivors of Shinra burnt towns, both lead Avalache, they have a tension that comes from Cloud replacing him as the leader even while they both come to try and trust eachother. Good meat to make a good story with.

Kim Dokja/Yoo Joonghyuk/Han Suyoung: Did you want to cry because of the very concept of platonic incarnations of the love that is both given and received in the act of reading, being a reader, writing, being written, being yourself within and without a character? Well it doesn’t matter if you don’t this book and ship will find your tears. The book is put together like a crystalline clock, you can see the machinations and they are only made more lovely and tragic by understanding. But in specific to this ship, they have the tension that I need to make a ship enjoyable. Big emotions. Hidden feelings.

Last Song: I’ve got a piano BGM ten hour mix on, heaven knows what any one song I’m listening to at any time is called-Oh hey wait thats Always With me (spirited Away).

Current Reading: I’ve got 6 tabs of fanfic open right now. The Power of Friendship (and This Gun I found) by Gallus cause I wanted to reread when the new chapter came out then put that off for smaller bites. Thats Not a Real Trope You Hack Author by Boom_After_Dark. It starts off haha funny, the author is stuck in his own book and encountering tropes he deliberately used incorrectly. Oh, those are feelings. He is not haha anymore. Hm, a long fic collection with Shen Jiu by blackflowetea. Stripper au Lan Wangji/Wei Wuxian by pumpkinpaix. My Erstwhile Dear by ErradianWhoCantRead which is a Jiggy skips town after Guanyin Temple then writes back home fic. and Anyway, heres Wuji by kakikaeru. Very funny fic with the Lan Juniors + Jin baby.

Last Movie: Puss in Boots, the Last Wish. I had a great time! It was a well put together movie, good storylines and good art. I would rec it to people even if they haven't been keeping up with the shrekverse (goodness knows I haven't been)

Craving: Oh hm, I am pretty content at the moment. But I am always down for some sushi. Mmmm...sushi.

Tag 8

@lacertae-dreamscape @blondejaneblonde @ibijau @a-mere-dream @veraverorum @naked-bee @spicedrobot @sarah-yyy

[hermankopusortizorsumshite]

Darlin'

Warnings: the Punisher themes, blood, gore, violence, kidnapping, Agent Madani (cause she's a trigger warning for me XD), sweet Frank

Word Count: 9095. This is a long one. Buckle up! MINORS DNI!

Her father looked at her with his heart in his eyes, her face bruised and marred.

“Darling, I’m so sorry.” He whispers, patting her hand. She smiles at him.

“It’s okay.” She croaks, cracking her cuts on her face when she smiles bigger. He pats her lips with a paper towel, applying a couple drops off water to her mouth. “Chapstick in my purse, dad.” She coos, giving him a chuckle.

“Of course, baby.” He smiled, kissing her forehead and digging into her purse for that little tube of chapstick. She takes it, putting some on and sighing in relief. “I hired a bodyguard. Don’t fight me this time please. A different bodyguard; one more your style. Maybe you won’t run away from this one.” He chides, giving her a half-unimpressed look.

“Pop, it’s not my fault. He was old and boring.” She whines.

“Well, you can rest assured this one is not old or boring.” He chuckles, waving someone in. This beast of man, with broad shoulders, a strong jaw, and a dark look walks in. Her eyes drink him in. His all black apparel, tee shirt, cargo pants, military boots.

“Wow.” She whispers, “definitely not old.”

“I thought you might enjoy his company more. Since he doesn’t talk and he can’t be persuaded to take you out onto the town at three in the morning for waffles.” Frank chuckles. “Can you be persuaded to take her to get waffles at three in the morning?” He asks, jabbing a finger at the man.

“No, sir. I just think it’s funny that a bodyguard could be, sir.”

“Great. Military.” She heaves a sigh and rolls her lips together.

“This is my daughter, Kat. She’s my baby. I need you to promise you’d give your life to keep her safe.” Her father explains, her eyes watching the gold watch on his tan wrist.

“Sir, can I speak to you in the hallway?” He asks, looking at the door.

“Sir, you know who I am right?” He asks, looking to the man with a partially confused look.

“I’m Frank Castle. I killed so many people the US government lost count and gave me a new identity. But please justs call me Frank.” He explains, and her father’s eyes widen for a moment.

“You are Frank Castle. Wow.” He whispers.

“Yeah.” He nods.

“Alright, well. My daughter, Kat, she’s my world. Do you understand that?” He asks, looking to Frank and seeing him nod.

“Yeah, I get that.” He swallows hard.

“Good, now. My daughter is my whole existence. I love her with everything I have. She’s in the hospital because some men were looking for me and she wouldn’t give me up. If you’re ever in that situation, and she’s with you, tell her to give it up. Okay? My life is not valuable if I lose her. Understood? So if she’s ever kidnapped with you, please, give them whatever information they ask you for, okay? And when she gets released today, I’m putting the two of you in a safe house so she can heal.” He offers giving her a smile through the window, waving. Something about the sweet woman laying in that hospital made Frank almost feel weak. His stomach seemed to turn.

“Okay, and who’s supposed to be posted anywhere else near it? I’ll kill on sight if I don’t know them.” He states as calmly as his own name. Her father, Gianno, grins and claps Frank on the shoulder.

“Your huge. You’re a killer. And it’s sweet.” He chuckles, leaving Frank outside for a moment as he goes to talk to his daughter.

“Honey, I need to tell you something, okay? When you’re released in a few minutes, I’m going to have you quietly placed in a safe house away from me. Okay? Until you’re healed. Please don’t be mad.”

“Mad? Is Hercules going?” She giggles, pointing to the large man with his back to the door. Her father just nods and laughs. “Then I am not mad. I’ll be holed up in a one bedroom apartment with that sweet, huge man and I cannot wait.” She explains.

“Wow, you know you can’t sleep with him, right?”

“And if I did. I’d never tell you. Who’s packing my stuff?” She asks, looking at him quizzically.

“Lyla is, currently. I figured if any girl knew what to pack it’d be her.” He laughs. The door opens, Frank nodding to her father.

“Hello! I’m Doctor Haas. I’m here with the paperwork for you, dear.” The woman nods with a gleaming smile. Handing over a clipboard, Kat signs the paperwork in record time and happily changes out of the gown. “We’ll grab a wheelchair from the hall and--”

“No! No, please. No wheelchair. Between pop and Hercules I’ll be fine. Honestly. I wanna walk out on my own.” She whines, standing on quaking legs.

“Alright! No problem.” She smiles, giving her a nod and sending her on her way.

“Honeybun, maybe you should think about using the--”

“No! Pop, I’m not using it.” She gingerly steps into the hallway. Frank looks down at her for a moment, taking in the situation. Before he can say a word, she looks up with shimmering grey-blue eyes and a pleading smile. “I can’t use a wheelchair. I have to walk out of here.” She whispers, gripping his hand.

“Okay.” He whispers back. With a look at her, he tucks her under his arm, holding her up at her waist to keep her on her feet. Even when her legs start to give way at the exit door, Frank holds fast and gets her quickly to the car.

“You can do it.” He whispers as the steps get closer and closer, the car only a yard away. “Come on. If anyone can do it, you can. You didn’t take a wheelchair because you know you’re strong.” He coos, getting her to push through the last ten steps before collapsing into the SUV.

“Thank you.” She whispers, hugging his neck as he lifts her onto the seat. He climbs in next to her, buckling her in.

“Safe house.” Her father states as he gets into the passenger seat with a little smirk on his face.

“Tell me, Hercules. Where are you from?” She asks, gripping his bicep and gleaming up at him.

“Queens.” He smiles, his eyes scanning around them while he talks to her.

“You married?” She asks, looking at the necklace that hangs around his neck.

“I was.” He states, looking out the windows for suspicious cars.

“Ah sorry. Divorced?”

“Killed. My wife and two kids.” He states, looking to her with pain in his eyes.

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” She coos, patting his shoulder. “God I’m tired.” She murmurs, tipping over onto his shoulder and falling asleep. He gently leans her to the other door onto the padded seat back and sits back up, eyes scanning again.

“Mister Luccianni, that silver grand am to your right, has been following us for the past two miles.” He states, grabbing for his weapon. “Gimme the go, I’ll smoke em.” He offers, narrowing his sights and putting his finger on the window button.

“Stand down. They’re your test. You passed. Good eye. Is she asleep?” Her father asks as they pull into a parking garage.

“Yeah.” He nods, the car coming to a slow stop in a parking spot.

“The silver car has her things in it. It’s the most common car in the state of New York it seems. So, Lyla, her best friend is in the car. She’s sex-crazed and will probably hit on you. She’s got Kat’s things and she can help put them in the apartment. Now. Next, I need you to carry her in, as unsuspecting as possible. It’s midday and people are out and about. Try not to give yourselves away. Lyla is dressed in a mover’s uniform. Short brunette, pencil straight hair. There will be neighbors out. You two are newly married until you get in that door.” Her father debriefs him with a smile and gives him a nod.

“Got it, sir. Is she to stay in the apartment all the time? Will she sneak out? What do the men look like who did this to her?”

“Don’t keep her cooped up the whole time, she’ll go crazy. Call a driver first. The driver confirms with you. You bring her out as your new wife. You get into the car. She will sneak out. Lyla will probably convince her to sneak out so they can go wine tasting or something. Lyla’s a good girl, but she’s crazy. The men who did this? They look dead.” He answers all the questions and he nods. Frank found her interesting. “She’s been engaged, but never married. He was killed, much like your family.” He coos, looking at his daughter with a loving, sad smile. “Alright, it’s time to go in.” He smiles, letting Frank get out first, scooping her out of the seat and starting towards the door.

“What-what’s happening?” She asks. Half awake, half asleep, the jostling is all to familiar and she kicks out, diving to the ground and waking up immediately. Frank stares down at her with wide eyes and a little smirk.

“You good now?” He gruffs, sticking out a hand. She takes it, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

“Yeah, I’m so sorry.” She whispers as he tucks her under his arm.

“It’s okay, hunny. Those men can’t hurt you again.” He states out loud, his big hand covering the side of her face and holding it against his chest. “We’re married when we leave this aparment.” He hushes as they walk, never missing a beat.

“Well, alright then.” She giggles loudly, letting him keep her against him. As her father lets them into the apartment, Frank almost has to peel her off of him. “Aw, c’mon hunny! I’m not done cuddling.” She whines, making grabby hands at him. “You’re so warm.” He just chuckles, heading into the room with her father and other guards to discuss what the next plan is. A knock at the door has Frank’s undivided attention. Peeking through the peephole, he sees the described woman who was bringing her things in. He waves her over, signaling to be quiet.

“Is this Lyla?” He asks, covering her mouth as she gasps. She nods violently, grabbing for the handle. Frank’s hand is faster, tugging hers away. “Go over there.” He hushes, pointing behind the couch. Huffing, she rolls her eyes and wobbles to the couch. Frank carefully opens the door and finds a petite woman with a cart full of suitcases. “Name.” He barks, hand resting on his pistol.

“Lyla. I’m here for welcome party.” She grins so widely Frank finds it odd, but when he peeks out, he sees a neighbor looking over at them.

“My wife must’ve invited you! C’mon in!” He cheers, waving her in and shutting the door. “The arsenal arrived.” He chuckles, waving Kat over.

“I’m so happy to finally see you!” She cheers, gripping her best friend in a warm, tight hug. When Kat groans at the slight throb in her ribs, Frank’s head flips back to them.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah.” She assures, heading into the bedroom and Lyla follows, dragging the bags along with her. Frank laughs, heading back into the room with her father and guards again. She curls up onto the couch after waving goodbye to her best friend. Frank had tossed his jacket onto the couch with his duffelbag and when she saw his coat, the only blanket-like thing near her, she draws it to her and covers up with it.

“But we’ll head out so you two can get better acquainted. The fridge and cupboards have been stocked up for you. Drinks are in the island, as well as wine in the cabinet. If Lyla tries to kidnap her, just shmooze her with wine tasting.” He chuckles, kissing his daughter atop her buised head and stepping out.

As she wakes from her nap, she sees the most glorious sight. A glass-walled shower with frosted glass and her bodyguard’s naked body in said shower. He climbs out, wrapping the towel around his waist. Combing through his hair, he feels eyes on himself and looks out the open door to see she’s awake.

“Hey, hot bodyguard.” She gives an awkward wave, jaw still on the floor.

“Hey, Kat.” He waves, dropping the towel just outside of her eyesight, returning a moment later dressed in a gray tee shirt and jeans, hearing a audible groan.

“It’s Frank, by the way.” He chuckles, offering a hand.

“It might be wise to know my newly wedded husband’s name. In case the neighbors ask.” She laughs, patting the couch with an inviting smile.

“You should shower.” He ruffs, helping her to her feet. “Doctor said first night you shower, try not to lift your arms too much. So I’m the best you got.” He smiles, a little excited to see her naked, frosted glass or not.

“Great. So you’re name is Frank, you’ve known me twelve hours, and now you’re going to see me naked? This is a fucking treat.” She rolls her eyes, but Frank just laughs.

“You didn’t think you’d be the only one to get a show, did you?” He asks.

“Hey now! I happened to wake up at the right time. That’s not my fault.” She laughs, defending herself as she gives a grin.

“It is now, c’mon, doll.” He chuckles as she digs through the suitcase for underwear, a bra, and a shirt. She’d found shorts already.

“Did you just call me doll? Should I call pops and tell him you already have a crush on me?” He just rolls his eyes as she walks to the bathroom. Tugging off her sweatpants and underwear, she feels exposed, but she can’t get her shirt off. Snapping her fingers, she hooks the t-shirt’s collar onto the towel hook and tugs the shirt off, sobbing when her arm is raised so high. Frank comes through the door.

“You okay?” He asks, looking around her to find her shirt hanging on the hook.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” She nods, letting Frank’s eyes drink her in. “Actually, Frank? Can you unhook this? I can’t get it.” She whines, pushing on her bra with one hand.

“Sure.” Unhooking her bra, his knuckles brushing her smooth skin, his eyes travel down the gauze pads that pepper her back.

“Those have to come off too.” She whispers, meaning the gauze pads. He peels each one off gingerly to find a variously shaped cigarette burns on her back.

“What the hell?” He whispers, his finger running between the burns. She shivers at the intimate touch and he jerks his hand away. “Sorry, I-”

“It’s okay.” She whispers, putting Frank’s hand back on her shoulder and letting him trail down again.

“It looks like a constellation.” He whispers, pulling away his hand.

“Thank you.” She coos, letting the hot water start.

Frank washes her back and shoulders, gentle around her burns.

“Thank you.” He puts the loofa down and steps out of the bathroom giving her a little privacy and himself a little space. He didn’t know why he felt this way, but he wanted so badly to kiss every little mark, trailing down her back. Huffing to calm down his nerves, he heads to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Not finding any, he mixes up a couple mugs of hot chocolate.

“So, uh, no coffee. But, I found some hot chocolate.” He smiles. Offering a mug of steaming hot cocoa.

“No coffee?” She asks, looking at him like he’d just sworn at her.

“Right? No coffee.” She pulls out her phone and sets up a delivery for starbucks in the morning.

“I probably shouldn’t drink any, anyway. It’s late, ya know. I should sleep.” She groans as they finish off the hot chocolate.

“Yeah, you hit the bed. I’m on the couch.” He explains, pointing to the bedroom.

“No, no. I can’t sleep there while you--”

“It’s my job. Okay? So you get in there and go to bed.” He orders, letting her get up and walk to her room.

Almost an hour passes when he hears her voice softly muttering under her breath.

“Darlin’?” He asks, looking into the dim room to see her thrashing on the bed, a scream filling the room. He bolts to her bed, grabbing her shoulders and hugging her against him. “IT’s not real. It’s not real. You’re in a safehouse. You’re name is Kat. You have a bodyguard named Frank. Your father is a mob boss.” He whispers things that are real as she comes out of her nightmare.

“Thank you.” She sniffs, curling into herself. He sits gently on the edge of the bed and draws her against him.

“No problem. Sometimes I get ‘em too.” He ruffs, looking at her with a small smile.

“Really? How do you make them go away?” She asks.

“I killed the men responsible.” He offers a crooked smile and she laughs. “Go to sleep.” He coos, smoothing her hair as she starts to drift.

“Oh, Frank? Tomorrow morning there’s supposed to a delivery driver at the door. I ordered coffee for the morning.” She smiles, letting him hug her against him, resting his chin atop her head.

“I’ll try not to kill them.” He hushes as he hears her lightly snoring. Sleep starts to push his eyelids closed and slowly, he leans back against the headboard, exhausted. Soon, she’s climbing on him in her sleep, cuddled as close as possible under his chin and on his chest. His arms curl around her instinctively. Safety washes over her as she peeps through one sleepy eyelid to see Frank so close to her asleep. Smiling, she tucks her head back under his chin and goes back to sleep.

A knock sounds at the door, waking them both out of their comforting bubble.

“Ssh. Don’t move.” He rises, scrubbing his face and stalking silently to the door. She takes a ten from her wallet and slides it under the door. “Put the coffee down, take your tip and walk away.” He demands, never opening the door. Once the man’s out of sight, she slips out and snatches the two coffees and the small bag of coffee grounds.

“Frankie!” She calls, handing him a coffee when she finds him standing in the kitchen making breakfast.

“Yes, coffee.” He chuckles, taking the cup and sipping the hot caffeinated drink.

“Thank you for last night. Ugh, sounds weird to say like that, but you know what I mean. I didn’t have a nightmare when you slept there. Can-I just-well-sorry. It’s stupid.”

“Nah, ask.” He assures, sliding a plate across to her.

“I just wondered, you know, if maybe--if you wanted to--possibly sleep in the same bed again. It doesn’t have to get weird. I just--that was the first night in almost two weeks I didn’t have another nightmare. It was exhilarating.” She stammers, so afraid of what the big brute might say.

“That’s fine.” He nods, sitting down to eat, but not before he pats a hand to her shoulder.

“So tell me something about you.”

“I was in a special forces military ops.” He offers, finishing his plate in record time.

“Wow, that’s explains your nightmares.” She wags her brows, almost halfway done with her plate.

“No, it doesn’t. My family was shot in a park. While I was there. It was meant for me but they didn’t get me. They got my son, my daughter, and my sweet wife.” He husks, his throat starting to close. Springing from her seat, fork clattering to the plate with a glass ‘ting’ she jumps into his arms, wrapping her arms around him and gripping tight.

“Christ, I’m so sorry. My husband was shot down while working with my father. The bullets were meant for my father, but the killer got the wrong info.” She whispers, and Frank’s arms wrap around her, hugging her tight to his hard body.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, letting her hold him for what seems like hours.

“Frank? Can you promise me something?” She asks as she leans back a little.

“Sure.”

“Promise me you’ll do everything you can to stay alive. Okay? You’re a good man, Frank, and I don’t want to be the reason you die. I--You could walk out and I’d understand. You can leave.” She assures, elbows resting on his shoulders. Frank rises to his feet, towering over her and grabs her chin in his thumb and first finger.

“I’m not leaving. I’m not going anywhere. I already made a promise to your father to keep you safe if it kills me, so his negates yours. Sorry, hunny.” He hushes, grinning at her.

“Ugh, no fun.” She whines, tugging her face away from from his warm, firm grip and finding a sweatshirt to put on. It was chilly, Frank found it soothing, but his roommate not so much and she came back into the room in his black hoodie, almost drowning in it. He couldn’t hide the the small chuckle. “Hey Frank? Do you think we could go out today?” She asks, rolling the sleeves once so she could use her hands.

“No. I think we could not.” He mocks in a high pitched voice. She crosses her arms over her chest and pouts. Frank huffs, not sure if he should take her out. Grabbing his phone, he dials her father. “Why do you need to go out? We have coffee now, what else do you need?” He asks.

“I want fresh veggies from the market. I’d love to make something for dinner but all we have are like--lettuce and carrots.” She complains through a hand at the fridge in exasperation.

“Lettuce and carrots, fresh veggies! By the way! And you’re complaining.” She grabs his hands and gets right up to his chest.

“C’mon sweet husband of mine. Don’t you want to go out with your new bride?” She asks, jumping a little in excitement.

“Darlin’. Listen to me-- Yeah!” He answers his phone as her father calls him back.

“Hey Frank! You rang?”

“Yeah, your daughter wants to go out to the market right down the block. She wants to buy some veggies. I’m on my A game, sir. If you’re fine with it, I’ll take her.” He offers, shushing her with his hand clasping over her mouth. She looks at him with a smile, Frank feeling his heart swell.

“If you believe you can handle it, I don’t care if you two love birds go out.” Her father chuckles. “Put her on quick.” Frank puts the phone to her ear.

“Hello?” She asks.

“Hey baby. Listen to me. I don’t care if you two leave, but you have to stay at Frank’s side. You have to stay glued to him. You understand?” He asks into the phone, his expressions matching his words as if he were speaking to her face to face.

“Yeah, pop. Like glue. I love you!” She smiles into the phone, her father saying it back before they hang up.

“You ready?” He ruggs, offering her an elbow after letting her put on her white Gucci sneakers with her shorts and Frank’s sweatshirt. Sweater paw on his elbow, they leave arm in arm. His grips her hand as they step out. “Also, I’m Pete, your Honey.” He smiles, earning a half-upset look from her as they get into the elevator.

“Alright Pete.” She coos as they get into the car waiting for them. Driving them the two blocks, Frank gets out first, eyes scanning the perimeter. Finding nothing alarming, he nods to let her out. Her sweater paw reaches for his arm, but his hand cups high on her hip, pulling her against him as they walk through the market. “Aw hunny, over here! Some tomatoes! And some fresh basil, oregano, thyme, and ooh! Parsley!” As the two pay for their vegetables at each stand, Frank notices the man a few yards back, following them. Frank tries to hurry her along, but she’s intrigued by every stand and wants to look at everything. With two bags of veggies, a bag of chicken, and a grin as wide as Frank’s chest, he convinces her to get in the car just as the man reaches for her. Frank’s hand comes down hard and fast. When the man sees Frank’s face, his heart hits the floor and he turns, running away.

“Hunny, did that man just run the other direction?” She asks, looking to him as he shoves her into the car and they get into the apartment as fast he can. Once in the door, Frank’s hands graze over her body to be sure of no injuries, but she laughs it off.

Stepping into the kitchen, she opens the cupboard and heaves a sigh of relief.

“Thank god they brought cooking wine.” She assures, reaching but not quite grasping it. Climbing onto the counter and grabbing the wine bottle, her hand slips and she falls backwards but she and the wine bottle, never hit the floor.

“You are so clumsy.” He chuckles, righting her small frame and handing her the wine. “What are you making?” He asks, looking to her with a smirk.

“Chicken cacciatore, my nonna was the best at it, but I try my best.” She smiles shyly as she starts cooking.

As Frank takes his first bite, his eyes roll back and he moans. His reaction catches her offguard and she looks at him with a confused smile.

“It’s good. What can I say?” He shrugs, giving her a smile.

“Right, thank you.” She coughs, going back to eating her own. It didn’t taste like home but it almost did. She was happy to have it. She thinks back to earlier when the man trying to attack her saw Frank and ran away. It was remarkable yet a little unnerving. “Hey, Frank? Why did that man run away from you?” She asks as he takes a bite of dinner and looks up from his plate. His eyes are calculating, not sure what he should say. He assumed she knew about him. Since her father had found out, he assumed that she knew.

“I uh, I killed a lot of people. Bad people, but, still alot of people.” He wags his brows, holding his breath.

“How many?” She asks, taking another bite as if this were small talk.

“Thirty five.” He coughs, trying to disguise it. She looks up for a moment and a grin crosses her face.

“Wow, thirty five? My father’s record for one day is only ten.” She blabs, continuing to eat.

“It wasn’t in one day. I killed all the people responsible for my family’s deaths. Everyone.” He hushes, looking at her as she continues to eat. When she glances up, her eyes meet his and she gives an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, Frank. Holy shit!” Her fork clatters to her plate and she jumps to her feet. “Frank Castle! Holy shit! Oh my god! You’re Frank Castle! Holy fuck.” She stammers over and over, staring at him with wide, loving eyes. “Sorry, most girls crush on celebrities, but not this one. I mean, you are a celebrity, a dead one. But still, wow. You are beautiful.” She coos, staring at him. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. Wow, Frank Castle. I gotta call Lyla! She’s never gonna believe this!” She crows like a teenage girl, fumbling for her phone. “We used to watch your news pieces and when you killed all those people in prison, amazing.” He plucks the phone from her hand and he laughs.

“No out calls.” He laughs, trying to compose himself.

“Oh come on! I just made the discovery of a century, and you won’t let me call my best friend?” Whining, she stamps a foot like a child and he gives her a half smirk.

“I’m sorry, darlin’.”

“Stop calling me that.” She huffs, her playfulness gone for a moment.

“Why?” He prods. A knock sounds at the door, making both of them jump. His hand grips her wrist across the table and he creeps around, putting her against the wall. Sneaking to the door, he looks through the peephole to see Lyla standing there, but instead of her giddy self, she’s rather squeemish, shifting from foot to foot, looking around nervously. Frank carefully opens the door, but it comes blasting in on him, sending him soaring into the couch.

“I’m sorry!” Lyla sobs as three grown Russian men shove in, grabbing Frank and throwing fist after fist into his face. Looking for her, one Russian reaches over the counter to grab her, but she stabs him with a knife in the arm. The man growls, yanking his arm back. Dislodging the knife, he tosses it aside to find she’s gone. Hunting for her while they kick Frank. A gun shot echoes and one of the Russians falls to the floor. Lyla stands with the gun in her hands, tears in her eyes as another Russian jumps on her, grabbing her by the hair and throwing her into the wall. Kat finds a gun in Frank’s bag and she shoots the large man beating on her best friend and just as she points the gun at the one on Frank, she sees the man’s dead body flop over onto another of the Russians. Frank rises to his feet, blowing air out his nose, blood spraying as he did so. Foot steps slow and calculated as he walks to Lyla, her scared whimpers enough to break Kat’s heart as Frank grabs the front of her shirt and drags her to her feet.

“You brought them here?” He growls low, his voice dark and feral.

“I-they were gonna kill my mom and me if I didn’t tell them.” She whimpers, tears falling down her face.

“And they almost killed you and her.” He barks, pointing to Kat, who stands in shock, quaking with a gun in her hand. Frank limps to her, slowly drawing the gun from her hands and placing it on the couch. “It’s okay.” He whispers, letting her drop her head to his shoulder. She hiccups and then sobs, gripping the back of his blood soaked shirt.

“Frank--you--you’re--” He covers her mouth with a bloody hand, shaking his head.

“I’m fine, darlin’.” She huffs and smiles, tears staining her cheeks. When her eyes lift over her shoulder, she sees the front door still wide open. Giving a shriek, she slips from his grip and slams the door, locking every deadbolt and chain before running back to Frank and gripping him tight.

“Frank, you-you’re bleeding.” She coos, carefully taking him to the couch. Appearing a moment later with a kit in her shaking hands. “Lyla, grab the bottle of rum from the cupboard. Also, it’s Frank fucking Castle!” She cheers as Lyla brings the bottle to her. When her eyes finally meet the man’s face she gasps.

“Holy shit. Your serial killer boyfriend is real.” She laughs, trying to calm her down. Taking a couple swigs from the bottle, she offers it to Frank.

“You want any?” She asks.

“Nah. Really I’m fine.” He hushes, letting his hands cover hers.

“Shut up, Frank.” She nips, swatting away his hands. Cleaning up his face, she puts a couple butterflies on the cut on his forehead, and a bandaid on the little ones on his cheek and chin.

“Darlin’ c’mon. Stop it.” He huffs, pushing her hands away. Jabbing a finger into his chest, earning a groan.

“Quit. Calling. Me. That.” She bites, clapping the kit closed and stomping to the bathroom to put it away.

“What’s her problem?” He huffs to himself, grabbing his cellphone and dialling her father.

“Yeah?”

“So the friend we thought we could trust, not so trustworthy. I need a discreet clean up crew.” He explains, when he sees her appear again. She hooks her arms under the man’s arms and drags him over to the pile of two more bodies and groans in disgust. “Hey, quit touching those.” He hushes, covering the mic on the phone.

“No! I want them gone.” She cries, tears starting to fall down her face.

“Ssh, it’s okay. Calm down.” He cuddles her against his strong body and coos in her ear.

“Clean up crew is on it’s way. Now, tell me my daughter is okay.” Her father’s voice calls to Frank.

“She’s fine, sir. She was cracking jokes earlier.” He chuckles, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

“Good. The clean up crew is four men. They’ll bring a laundry cart up, say they’re here for pickup. You let them in.” Her father says as someone knocks on the door. She dives for the pistol and points it at the door, quaking as Frank carefully opens it to find a two laundry bins and four men.

“Sorry, she’s still scared.” He offers, reaching out and pulling the gun from her hands.

“It’s okay, sir. We just want to remove the bed bugs and get you cleaned up.” The man informs, putting the bodies into the carts and cleaning up in less than an hour. A deep breath escapes her as she sags against Frank, relaxed. His arm closes around her shoulder and he pats her clothed back.

Two Weeks go by, fun had by the two holed up in a small New York penthouse.

“Hey doll, I’m gonna head down for coffee. Don’t let anyone in, okay?” Frank’s gravelly voice washes over her for a moment as he walks through the door. “Lock all of these. I’ll knock twice and call out to you.” He smiles, patting her arm before stepping out and shutting the door. Frank listens as the door locks click, breathing out softly. He was nervous to leave but he hadn’t heard a sound, and there were other men posted outside the room and the building.

He gets to the bakery just down the street and orders her coffee, and his, getting a strawberry turnover with a little smile. Paying for the items, Frank looks at the bag and coffee cups in his hand and he gives a chuckle. He thought to himself, for a moment that he could have this. This life could be his. Getting coffee and turnovers in the morning like some kind of domesticated husband, the kind of husband he wanted to be for Maria. He chuckles, shaking his head. As he gets up the stairs, he sees two guards knocked out, laying in a pile.

“Shit.” Sprinting into room, the coffee hitting the tiled floor and splashing out, splattering up onto the bottom of the sofa where they sat comfortable in each others silence for almost four weeks. His eyes drop to the blood on the couch and the blood on the table, smeared like fingers grasping for the edge. His breath hitches, trying to breathe, but he can’t. “Kat! Kat!” He shouts, screaming at the top of his lungs.

“Frank Castle. It is Castle, right?” A voice calls, and when he turns, he finds a small woman standing before him, Agent Madani.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He barks, voice low and eyes on hers like lasers.

“Saving your little girlfriend you’ve been playing house with. She’s safe. Undisclosed location. Thinks her father is in questioning. No worries, nothing incriminating. But, tell me, Frank. What would you do if I weren’t watching this place, huh? I need to make a deal with her father, but he needs to know it’s the FBI. He will go to a maximum security prison for the rest of his life, but he and his daughter will be safe. The safest she can be, which I think is a little important to you.” She informs, arms crossed over her chest, watching Frank stand there, his chest heaving.

“You have her? Is she under surveillance? Can I see her?” He barks, storming towards her like a black cloud.

“After you get me a meeting with her father, Gianno Lucciani.” She retorts, not letting up. Frank steps closer, hand gripped around Madani’s neck, ready to squeeze, but he doesn’t.

“I’ll see.” He whispers, yanking away the hand around her neck he grabs his phone, calling her father.

“Frank?”

“Yeah, Gianno. Listen to me, man. You gotta come down here to the safehouse.” Frank tries to be calm but his voice wavers slightly.

“Frank, what’s wrong?” He demands.

“There’s some FBI agents here. They’re questioning Kat. They want to cut you a deal. They said they’ll let Kat go when you’re here.” He informs.

“Okay. I’ll be there in five minutes.” He barks, hanging up.

“You gotta handcuff me. When he gets here, he’s gotta think you busted in and got me down first. You’re gonna wanna bring Kat back in too.” He offers. “If his daughter isn’t here, he’ll kill everyone in here if he doesn’t see her face.” He shrugs, putting his hands behind his back and letting them cuff him. They cuff his ankles too for good measure and just as they drop him onto the ground her father comes bursting into the door.

“My daughter.” He growls, gun jammed into Madani’s head. “Unlock him. He’s just her bodyguard. Pete Castliglione. You’re name is Pete right? Why is he handcuffed?” He barks, jabbing a finger at Frank on the floor.

“Yeah, listen, Madani knows. I’m Frank fuckin’ Castle. Okay? We need to see Kat now.” He barks as they take the cuffs off.

“Bring her in.” Madani calls, waving to a couple agents as they head out, returning with his sweet Kat.

“Shit.” He whispers as she piles into him, clinging to him like a lifeboat in the middle of a raging sea.

“Frank, Frank. They broke in. They-the government. They took me to a room. Questioned me. Frank, I--”

“Ssh. Ssh. Ssh. It’s okay, darlin’.” He whispers, her father stepping out into the hallway with Madani.

“Frank I said--”

“Don’t call you that, but it’s important today. Okay?” He coos, grabbing her and kissing her forehead. Her father walks in just in time to see Frank holding her tight against him. His big arms wrapped around her, making her look small and frail.

“Kat, baby, you okay?” She twists around in Frank’s grip. As he starts to let go, her hands grip tightly to his forearms and she chokes on a sob.

“It’s okay. I’m right behind you.” He coos, tugging his arms away as she stumbles to her father.

“Baby, you’re okay. Listen, daddy’s gonna be going away for a while. Okay?” He coos calmly, as if he’s still talking to the same little girl from twenty years ago.

“Daddy, what--”

“The government woman is--”

“Quit talking to me like a child!” She shrieks, screaming at him and stamping her foot.

“I’m taking your father into custody for all the money laundering, the murders of five men, and for running a drug ring underground that we now have you admitting to.” Madani informs loudly as they cuff her father and start walking him down, out into the parking lot. “Put a vest on her, call it protection, whatever you need to do to put her into safety. We’ll shoot her. Take her as crossfire. The Russians and the Cartel will be down there. He’s safest in prison. And we’ll get him there. I need Frank removed safely. Once we’re out of here, they’ll load her into a body bag and get her somewhere safe with Frank. No one tip off Frank or the father. If they know something’s up they’ll take her, whether they think she’s alive or not.” She informs her agents as they load Frank and her father into cars. When she screams at them, the firing of pistols and semi-automatic hand guns fills the air.

“No! Daddy!” She screams, running to the car, but as the car pulls away, an agent strategically shoots her in the chest twice, Frank’s heart hitting the concrete.

“No!” He cries, shaking violently in his cuffs as he tries to get out. Slamming his head into the window, he doesn’t even crack it.

“No! My baby!” Her father screams, following Frank’s actions. They leave her lying on the concrete, tears falling down his face more and more as he fights harder. Madani draws Frank from the car and drags him kicking, into another building.

“Listen!” She shouts over Frank’s heavy, deafening breathing.

“Madani, let me outta these goddamn handcuffs or I swear on Christ I’ll kill everyone in here. You too.” He growls low and hard, his eyes dark burning into the agent as she stands her ground.

“Frank. Frank, calm down.” She coos as they roll a stretcher in with a body bag. “Frank, her father’s going to a white collar prison, he’ll be safe. Frank. Calm down. I’m gonna take these off but please--”

“The bag. What’s in the bag!?” He screams. As the cuffs come off, his hands wrap around Madani’s throat, squeezing until hse’s gripping at his hands, his knuckles white.

“Frank?” Her soft voice takes his breath from his lungs and he drops Madani on the floor, her gasping just quietly in the background. “Frank I’m right here.” She whispers, rising from her bag like a zombie.

“Darlin’. Baby girl. Holy shit.” He whispers, gripping her and holding her against him.

“Frank, my dad. My dad, he thinks I’m--”

“Your father thinks you are dead, and that’s the safest thing for him to think right now. He’s going to a good prison, where he’ll be safe, but he wanted you as safe as possible, and if he, the Russians, and the Cartel believe that his only daughter is dead you are in no danger.” Madani explains, giving her a soft smile.

“My father thinks his only daughter is dead! He’s being arrested and sent to a prison? Frank?” She looks at him with betrayal twinkling in her eyes and Frank chokes, grunting at the pain. She’d never looked at him like that before. “Did you know?”

“Yeah.” He whispers.

“You knew? You helped them?” She cries, grabbing his shirt and shaking him.

“It isn’t what it looks like. You’re father--”

“Your father needed to be safe, and taking him into a facility where the cartel and Russians can’t get him is as safe as he can be.” Madani tries to explain. Kat turns, a fire in her eyes that Frank might’ve been scared of any other day. He folds his arms around her, constricting like a boa, holding steadfast as she begins to kick and hit, screaming at the top of her lungs for Frank to let go.

“I’m gonna kill you, bitch! I’m gonna kill you!” She screams, kicking and slapping at Frank’s stony arms. “Let go of me!” She cries, pushing his arms away and running for the door.

“No! Don’t go out there!” Madani yells. “There’s a Russian mob and a mexican Cartel being arrested right now with the help of your father’s information and willingness to cooperate.” She stops in her tracks and faces Frank.

“You-you knew about this?” She whispers, shaking her head in disbelief. “I trusted you, Frank.” Shaking hands run through her hair as she stands near the door, unsure of what to do. “Frank, how could you?”

“Hun, I just-I wanted to keep you safe. You’re father asked for safety. This is the best I could offer him. I’m sorry.” He explains.

“Me too.” She grabs the handle of the warehouse and walks out into the daylight, pushing her way through the throng of curious eyes and speculating lips.

“Kathryn?” A voice calls, and when she turns, a gun is jabbed into her side she knows she’s messed up. “If you move or set off that Castle, I’ll kill ya for real this time.” The thick Russian accent gruff and low in her ear.

“Eyes on the bait! Eyes on the bait. Moving southeast with a russian, six feet five inches, short black hair, two tattoos on his hands, can’t make out what they say. Getting into a van now, license plate echo-six-bravo-nine-two-eight.” Frank listens quietly before he grabs the nearest gun and charges out the door.

Eyes scanning the vans, he sees one pull away from the curb and follows it.

“Castle is on the move.” Madani calls into the mic.

Frank sets into a sprint as he follows the van. Getting into the warehouse, he listens to hear her give a scream.

“Tell us about Frank Castle.” He growls, stabbing a small pering knife into her thigh. Crying out, she looks around and something about the empty warehouse didn’t feel empty.

“I don’t know any Frank. And that’s saying something, I’m Italian.” She giggles through harsh breaths as he slaps her. The crack across her face sends Frank into a frenzy of rage, killing every man but the man who stands between him and Kat.

“Pete!” She exclaims, rattling the chair legs on the ground. The Russian man’s eyes fall to where hers are locked he raises his brows, gulping audibly.

“Castle.” He growls, looking to Frank as his eyes narrow and he tries to put on a dangerous front. When his eyes meet Frank’s he finds something feral there, something predatory, and he steps back. Frank raises a gun, shooting the man between the shoulder and heart, dropping him on the ground. Gasp. Gasp. Frank ignores the man as he draws Kat from the chair.

“You okay?” He coos, leaving her with a giggle on her busted lips.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Punisher.” She laughs as she hugs his neck, pressing sweet little kisses to his cut face. Frank Castle, the Punisher, New York’s scariest vigilante, and yet these arms that had strangled, hands that killed were comforting her; they were carressing her body with such comfort that tears fell down her face. “Are you okay?”

“I just--I’m so mad at you, but I love you.” She whispers, sniffling. He sucks in a sharp breath.

“You mean that?” He coos as he walks her to his car. Stiffening, he looks at her rigid form and stops them, looking to her with a grin.

“I--”

“I love you too.” He assures, kissing her forehead as he meets Madani at the a roof top across town. Pulling into a parking garage, he leads her to the roof where Madani waits, a small bag in her hands.

“This is yours.” She hands the bag to Kat with a smiling nod. Skeptical and mad, she snatches the bag and hands it to Frank without a second glance.

“No, darlin’. It’s for you.” He smiles, handing it back. Glaring at the bag, she tugs it back to her and opens it. Drawing out it contents, she reads over them carefully.

‘Marriage Certificate

Katalina Jane Foster and Peter Michael Castiglione

Were married at Wilson City Courthouse

July 15th, 2010’

Among the items in the bag was a social security card with her new name, and a driver’s license, passport, and the deed to a house in Atlanta, Georgia. Frank looks at her with a smile.

“Well what if I didn’t want to marry you?” She asks with a challenging smirk.

“Then I’d have to take this back.” He pops open small, velvety red ring box, exposing a dainty piece of silver jewelry with pretty little blue sapphires in it. With a huge grin on her face, she jumps into his waiting arms and kisses his face. Madani watches on with a smile as Frank loads his new bride into a car and they drive away.

[softyoongiionly]

BlackHeart Bakery

Who says Halloween can’t be romantic?

Pairing: Emo! Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Genre: fluff

A/N: HI OMG IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE. I love you, I hope you like it. I’m sorry it isn’t longer but, I still can’t wait for you to read it.

-you never imagined that the quirky lil bakery down the street from your university would change your life  

-But it did

-“Omg shut up, you’re so dumb.”

-“Rawr xD”

-“Did you just say rawr xD out loud??? That totally defeats the purpose of its existence...”

-“Don’t cite the deep magic to me witch, I was there when it was written.”

-“And now you’re quoting the chronicles of narnia- alright just go back to sleep you big dummy...”

-“Mmm but you married a big dummy so what does that say about you”

-“Jungkook don't spoil it oh my god!”

-“Like they don’t know what’s coming already- spoiler alert losers! I get the girl.”

-“I hate you...”

-“Mm yeah- I love it when you talk dirty to me baby. The last time you said that- we ended up fuc-“

-“Ok! That’s enough! Our story begins...”

-Jungkook’s bakery was quite famous around your city

-If people didn’t come for the gaudy Halloween decorations  

-They came for the music  

-Exclusively pop punk, if you’re wondering

-It was like 2009 everyday  

-Which was comforting, considering the world has gotten a little

-Tricky

-Since then

-But anyways

-If they didn’t come for the music or the decorations

-They came for the AMAZING espresso  

-And the spooky themed treats

-But if you’re being honest

-You think the main thing that keeps them coming back

-Is Jungkook  

-If his sweeping black hair didn’t get you

-Or the adorable cheeky twinkle in his eyes

-It was the tattoos and the piercings  

-He looked like he walked right off of a black veil brides music video set  

-He was hot

-This was obvious

-But he didn’t seem to think so

-You had come to the conclusion that he was oblivious  

-he shoved his feet into his big black doc martens every morning  

-Slipped on his beaded bracelets and studded chokers

-Pulled his fall out boy t-shirt over his

-Massive

-Tattooed

-Biceps

-And just thought hm

-I’m pretty average I guess (lol)

-That’s a direct quote from him btw

-Men truly are hopeless

-Jungkook opened the bakery two years ago

-He had mentioned to you that he had saved up money from his 3 part time jobs to put a down payment on the building  

-Which was wedged between a sex shop

-And a thrift store

-And honestly his bakery

-Blackheart Bakery, if you’re being specific  

-Fits right in

-Jungkook refuses to hire new staff

-“They won’t do it right.” He whined to you one day

-“One time I tried to hire this guy and he put the sugared googly eyes on the cookie skeletons ALL WRONG”

-“How do you put googly eyes on wrong?” You had giggled

-“you just do- i- See? This is exactly why I can’t hire anyone...”

-You had started chewing on the end of your pencil in the midst of your laughter

-It was an unconscious habit

-And it makes Jungkook shift uncomfortably, his hands moving off of the top of your table

-“Don’t do that...” he had muttered, smirking to himself as he walked back behind the counter  

-he did that a lot

-He’d mutter something  

-Mildly flirtatious under his breath and then  

-Just walk away

-It was quite confusing

-But honestly you had a feeling he was just a filrty person  

-You certainly weren’t the only girl he smirked at

-Not that you pay attention

-Ok  

-Maybe you do  

-Kinda  

-Pay attention  

-but it’s not your fault!!!!  

-You just  

-Can’t help but feel a little jealous

-You kiiiiiinda have a little thing for him

-Ok

-Maybe it’s a big thing  

-Maybe it’s a massive

-Gigantic

-Towering  

-Crush  

-But look at him!!!

-You simply couldn’t be blamed

-It was his fault  

-Yep

-That’s what you’re going with

-It was Jungkook

-And his tight t shirts

-His ripped jeans

-His dangly earrings

-His tattoos

-His big

-Stupid boots

-Ugh ok

-Focus  

-You have work to do

-The whole reason you began coming to Jungkook's cafe was so you -could find a consistent place to study for your exams

-You were in school to become a teacher :)  

-And teachers have to study very very hard  

-Educating the youth is no easy feat  

-Jungkook had asked what you were studying during the first week you arrived at his spooky house of baked goods

-“Oh I’m an education major”

-“Ahh so you’re getting an education about...education.” He concludes

-“I love it.”

-“So meta.”

-“Are they educating you on the disparities between impoverished children and wealthier children?”

-His wide eyes were brimming with genuine curiosity  

-You kind of got a kick out of how candid he was about such heavy conversation topics

-“Not as much as they should be but, I’m actually writing a paper on a similar topic right now...”

-This caused a brilliant grin to come over his face

-It was almost blinding really

-And it made your heartbeat all wonky  

-“Of course you are. You look smart like that...”

-He had backed away from your table then, seemingly satisfied

-Had you passed the vibe check?

-“I’ll leave you to your paper.” He nodded to your laptop but as he walked away, he pivoted back towards you on and the heel of his combat boot, “welcome to Blackheart Bakery by the way, let me know if I can get you anything.”

-Another brilliant smile is sent your way  

-“Thank you.” You had smiled back, sending a tiny wave his way

-Which in turn, made HIS heartbeat all wonky  

-You’re cute

-Like really cute

-And despite how often it may seem like his eyes are elsewhere

-They are ALWAYS on you

-Every chance he gets he is glancing your way

-Smirking to himself at how endearing you are

-Brow furrowed

-Lips pouted in concentration  

-Completely oblivious to his gaze

-He has to remind himself to look away  

-He doesn’t want to be a creep

-“Creepy men deserved to get kicked in the teeth...”

-He’s said this to you before when another patron had made you uncomfortable

-Jungkook kicked him out immediately  

-“If you don’t leave, I’ll have no choice but to kick you in the teeth. One, because I can’t compromise my personal philosophy and two because you’re making my favorite customer uncomfortable.”

-Oh look there goes your heartbeat again

-WONKY

-The guy leaves in an angry rush, flipping Jungkook off in the process

-Saying something about leaving a bad Yelp review  

-He doesn’t care tho

-He definitely doesn’t want to be a creep

-You’re just so  

-Pretty

-Ugh

-He rolls his eyes at himself behind the espresso bar

-The latte in front of him neglected  

-In need of a bit of foam

-“Focus Jeon, she’s just a chick...”

No wait

-“She’s just a woman. A woman who I respect, like I respect all women...”

-He’s been watching a lot of feminist theory on YouTube

-He likes staying educated  

-And also fuck the patriarchy

-The man waiting for his drink has arched a brow at this point, wondering if his barista has lost his mind

-“Uhhh medium...” he checks the cup for his awful hand writing, “ghostly toasted marshmallow latte!”

-“Thanks.” The guy mutters, throwing a judging look Jungkook's way  

-He gives him a lazy salute as the guy struts away with a briefcase in tow

-“Thaaanks.” Jungkook mocks him, his face scrunching up in annoyance  

-Stupid man

-With his stupid briefcase  

-As Jungkook is pulling out a batch of cream cheese frosting stuffed pumpkin muffins  

-Or as Jungkook calls them

-PUNK-in Muffins

-Movement at the counter catches his eye

-is that

-”oh shit...” He grunts, hastily wiping his hands on his apron and rushing over to the counter

-normally he would meander

-stroll

-or even slump to greet any new guests at this hour

-and by this hour

-he means 45 minutes before closing

-Jungkook’s bakery is open til midnight on weeknights

-9pm on Sundays

-and 3am on Saturdays (for the culture of course, gotta keep it spooky)

-tonight happens to be a Friday night and the person awaiting his assistance is

-you

-”You’re still here?” He gawks, the black polish on his nails glimmering as he punches in a few keys on the register

-You offer him a tired and slightly amused smile, “No. Y/N died around 4:30, you’re speaking to her ghost. Please leave your message after the tone.”

-Jungkook cracks a smile, his palms resting on flat on the counter, “Do ghosts check their voicemails?”

-“Oh of course not but, I will be checking yours because you have access to caffeine.”

-Jungkook laughs

-no...he giggles  

-and it’s fucking cute

-but you digress

-“I feel like I should cut you off...this is your 4th latte; I’m pretty sure you’re 80% caffeine at this point...”

-“Noooo, don’t do that.” You whine slumping against the counter, “I just need to finish this one page...”

-He quirks a brow as he scribbles something on your cup, unimpressed with your statement, “You said that three hours ago. I’ll make you another one but I’m not putting an extra shot in.”

-Your face turns up in protest but he click his tongue against his teeth , shaking a manicured finger at you

-“Ah ah- nope. I don’t want to hear it. You either take that or I’m making you a hot chocolate and shutting the buildings power off.”

-With a dramatic sigh, you concede

-“Ugh fine. Here-” You go to hand him your debit card but he shakes his head

-“Put that away.”

-You want to protest but given the fact that he’s made the rules thus far during this interaction, you doubt you’d be able to stop him.

-A smile appears on your face then, appreciative of his generosity

-“Thank you.”

-He merely grins, waving you off before rolling up the sleeves of his black Blink 182 shirt

-as soon as his tattoos are out

-all the moisture leaves your mouth

-you try your hardest not to stare at him

-expertly, he eases the espresso shots into the milk, tongue poking between his lips in concentration

-and you

-being sleep-deprived

-and a little loopy

-decide to  

-flirt????????

-if you could even call it that

-which you could but you shouldn’t

-“For the record, when I finally dig my way out of this of mountain of death I’m stuck in, I will definitely take you up on that hot chocolate...”

-Jungkook’s brow quirks at the tone of your voice, his hands suddenly itching with nerves

-was that

-was that flirty?

-should he flirt back?

-“My hot chocolate is legendary. You won’t be disappointed.” His lips display a small grin as he places the lid atop your finished latte, “Also mountain of death is a great name and I WILL be stealing it.”

-You giggle

-again

-“and I WILL be suing you for copyright.”

-He laughs now, wiping up the bit of milk he spilled

-the sinewy muscles in his forearm tensing and untensing

“Good luck getting me to show up to court.”

-and that’s kinda how it was between you and Jungkook

-for like six months

-it was a little bit flirty but never anything to push either over you over the edge.

-and speaking of being on edge

-recently, you had gone from vacationing in your timeshare on the edge

-to signing a 35 year mortgage contract  

-4 bedrooms

-2.5 bathrooms

-of pure

-unrelenting

-stress

-you could feel it in the middle of your back

-shoving itself up between your shoulder blades

-your body seemed to ache with it

-the worst part being

-it was Halloween

-You should be out with your friends, having fun

-wearing itchy costumes and drinking sugary drinks

-but instead, your headed towards the bakery to work

-Jungkook was behind the counter, smiling happily at a family dressed like the cast of scooby doo

-from what you could see he was wearing a skeleton onesie

-his jet black hair tousled perfectly above his head

-he looked adorable

-(and hot)

-He notices you instantly, his face turning up in surprise

-you offer up a small wave and head over to your table

-you know he’s going to say something about you being there but

-you don’t really have much of a choice

-this work has to be done

-it takes him a second to spot you but when he does

-he seems to perk up

-his smile brightening as he looks back towards his customer

-as you’re setting everything up, you feel a presence (not the spooky kind) at the end of your table

-it’s Jungkook and he has your regular order in one hand, along with something wrapped in skeleton-patterned parchment paper

-“I know, I know.” You acknowledge before he’s even able to chide you for being here

-He smirks “What are you doing studying on the holiest day of the year??”

-You giggle

-“The holiest day of the year huh?”

-“Of course. Halloween is the one night a year that the homies can dress like total -sluts and no one can say anything about it.”

-This makes you giggle again

-“And you went with slutty skeleton huh? I love it- it’s like as naked as you can possibly get.”

-He chuckles, gesturing to his costume

-His floppy black hair getting in his face

-“Damn right baby.”

-The way he grins tells you the pet name is a joke

-But the deepening of his voice gets to you anyway

-“Thank you for this. I promise I’ll get out of your hair early tonight.”

-“The only thing I’m worried about getting out of my hair is this white spray paint. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

-He’s put a streak of white spray paint in his raven locks

-Why? You’re not certain

-Does it look good on him, like everything else does?

-Absolutely

-Its been a few hours since your night of studying began

-Jungkook’s dropped off two free lattes since you’ve arrived  

-As well as a slice of his ‘I write cinnamon not tragedies’ bread

-Which was equally hilarious and delicious

-You caught him glancing over at your table a few times but you didn’t think anything of it

-He’s probably just checking to make sure that no one needs your table

-His bakery is packed most nights but Halloween is a special night at Blackheart Bakery

-He has a trick or treat counter set up with free (homemade) candy

-A photo op complete with a fake haunted house backdrop

-A Halloween playlist

-And a bunch of discounts on his signature lattes and food

-you watch him amongst the chaos

-He is completely unfazed

-He seems elated at the amount of customers he has

-he grins and laughs at something a man dressed like Thor says at his counter

-he seems entirely in his element

-you realize that the denial tactics you’ve been trying out haven’t been working

-because this floppy haired, tattooed, slutty skeleton/baker kind of has a hold on your heart

-you’ve been friends for a long time now

-he always makes sure you’re taken care of

-he always asks if you’re ok

-he always gives you this little grin

-it feels like a secret sometimes

-but maybe it’s been his way of letting you know where he stands

-he’s been bringing you lattes and pastries for months now

-he never charges you full-price

-he always reminds you not to work too hard

-he

-fuck

-he likes you doesn’t he?

-you look back over at the counter to see him bending over and handing a skeleton cookie to a little girl dressed like Captain Marvel

-he laughs at something she says

-his eyes focused entirely on her and whatever she seems to be proclaiming to him  

-your heart goes wonky again

-alright

-enough is enough

-you’re doing this  

-Jungkook’s done so much of the work thus far

-it’s time for you to seal the deal

-and if he rejects you, well…

-you can just crawl into a hole and never come out again

-easy peasy

-You can feel his eyes on you as you get up to take your place in line

-luckily there isn’t anyone else behind you

-rejection with an audience would certainly be worse

-Jungkook has his witty comment ready for you as you approach the register

-“I know for a fact you haven’t finished your third latte and I’m not making you another one until-“

-“I’m not here for another latte.” You laugh, trying to ignore the thrashing of your heartbeat

-“No? Well, are you finally going to try my Welcome to the Blackened Chicken Parade Burger then? I’ve been asking you for like three weeks…”

-god he’s fucking cute

-“I’m here to ask you out.”

-Jungkook swears he feels his heart stop

-“You’re here to…”

-He repeats the first part of your response as his he didn’t hear you

-his black fingernails anxiously tapping against the countertop

-“I’m here to ask you out- on a date.”

-Jungkooks face seems to go through various stages of confusion before a shy smirk presents itself on his pretty mouth

-“Me? You’re asking me-“ He places a hand on his chest, “-out on a date?”

-“Yes!” You laugh, slapping the counter a bit too hard, your nerves getting the best of you, “Are you down?”

-He shakes his head but his answer contradicts his movements

-“So down, beyond down. There is no one on Earth who is more DOWN than I am. Yes. My answer is yes. 50000% yes.”

-you can’t help the smile on your lips

-“great. So are you free next Friday then?”

-He grins with his teeth this time, nodding emphatically  

-“Consider the shop closed.”

-and so it was

-you returned to your table moments later  

-feeling on top of the world

-you did it

-you asked Jungkook out

-and he said yes

-and now you

-NOW YOU HAVE A DATE WITH JUNGKOOK

-LOOK AT YOU GO

-TAKING CHARGE

-you try your best to engage with your studies but with Jungkook on your mind

-its really hard

-roughly two hours later, things at the bakery have finally started to slow down

-“Hey uh- Y/N?”

-Jungkook's voice that pulls you out of your studying trance

-he’s standing at the entrance of his back room, waving you over with his hand

-and who are you to deny him?

-you make your way over there, annoyed at the instant increase in your heartrate

-he stands awkwardly to the side and gestures to the boxes on the metal rack

-“I just remembered that I’ve never given you a tour of the place. I give all my regulars a tour of the stockroom and my office and uh-”

-he cuts himself off and clumsily cups your cheek

-he pulls you into a kiss

-a really good kiss

-his lips are so warm

-he smells like cinnamon

-you could literally die happy

-The ridiculous nature of his first attempt to kiss you, makes you giggle into his mouth

-you feel him smile, his hands smushing your cheeks together as he pulls away

-“Ok I lied. There is no tour. I’ve just been watching you focus on your computer for the last two hours and you’re just really fucking cute and-”

-this time, it’s you who cuts him off

-“You better give me an actual tour next time. How else am I going to steal your secret recipes?”

-he scoffs in mock offense

-“Ah ha! So that’s the only reason you asked me out huh? Should I be calling you Plankton instead of Y/N? Ew no wait- that would make me Mr. Krabs and he’s a dirty capitalist...”

-You laugh, “Oooh good point. Guess you’ll just have to be Karen, my computer wife.”

-This makes him laugh now and the sound warms your soul

-“I could live with that- I like your last name better anyways.”

-with another kiss, your adventure with the emo baker of your dreams begins

-It may have been Halloween but it sure felt like Christmas to you

[angelanimedesaray]

Wings in the Dark Chapter 7:  Subversion

AN:  I’m gonna admit, I was half asleep writing the first half of this cause the fatigue hit me HARD once I got home.

Also, I forgot to put this up a few chapters ago, but this story IS on AO3.  The link is on the AOT Vampire Masterlist, but also right HERE.

I felt like I was missing something, but no matter how many times I looked at it, I couldn’t think of what it was...If it occurs to me, I’ll probably just find a way to work it into the next chapter, lol

Also if you want a good soundtrack for this series, honestly, all you gotta do is listen to the Forgotten Odes album by Eternal Eclipse, I always pull it up when I’m writing these XD

Characters:  Levi, Fem!Vampire!Reader, Erwin

Pairing:  (Eventual)  Levi x Fem!Vampire!Reader

Warnings:  Language, Blood, Death, Dead Bodies, ummm...idk, Vampire Legends?  Is that a Warning?

Word Count:  5391

<----Previous Chapter    Masterlist    Next Chapter---->

*Levi’s POV*

"I've been trying to catch her sneaking out for weeks, now, Erwin, but it's like she knows when I'm awake and watching for her.  I can never catch her when she's leaving, it's always when she comes back."

Levi paced slightly in front of Erwin’s desk out of agitation as he stressed why, after all this time, he still hadn't managed to follow her into the Underground and see what she was doing.

"Do you at least know when she usually sneaks out?  The time, or the days?" Erwin asked calmly.

"It's always when everyone's asleep...and it is fairly regular.  Every week, I think, though the exact day varies."

"If you can't follow her, then you'll need to get ahead of her. Get down there before her. You know the window of time when she'll be down there, and you know the Underground."

"But I have no idea what she's doing down there. It could be anything--and the Underground isn't a small place where I can wander around and /hope/ I run into her."

"Then narrow down your search based off your theories.  We considered she might have family down there, so you would be looking at residences, or asking around about a woman of her description.  And your theory of the worst she could be up to--"

"Murder or treason.  I know the places you'd go for that--more so than normal, anyway," Levi murmured, mind already conjuring the worst areas in the underground, the places where the Underground's worst elements like to stalk the streets, the areas of the highest risk, the worst gangs, the shadiest deals.

The residence search could take months--no one was going to want to talk to a soldier, a surfacer, even someone who had once been a part of the Underground.  Not to mention, they had no idea what Y/N Frazier looked like, or what name she was going under while she was hiding in the Underground--if she was, in fact, hiding in the Underground.

Besides, shouldn't he rule out the worst, first?

"I know where to start," Levi said decisively.  "It's still going to take some time, though, because she's still aware I'm watching her, and she's good at shaking tales and evasion.  Not to mention part of it is going to be based on luck--that I manage to go to the right place at the right time without knowing where she'll be."

"You're good at what you do, Levi.  You'll find a way."

So began the unpleasant ritual of Levi going down into the Underground every night of every other week, all in the name of hopefully, eventually, managing to find L/N.  All it would take was one glimpse, one time seeing her, and he could follow her, learning from the mistakes of last time to make sure that he didn’t lose her this time.

And he could finally find out what was happening below ground--what had been happening for years since she’d suddenly appeared on the surface.

While Levi had made a name for himself Underground, enough so that it became general knowledge not to test him, he hadn't gone around looking for the kind of trouble that would have brought him to the places he found himself in, now.  He’d always been aware of these dark holes in the Underground, and on a few unpleasant occasions had to make a trip to one of them.  The worst elements of the Underground were found in these holes--she shadiest deals, the scum of the earth, the darkest corners with the most blood and carnage seeped into and tainting the earth around them.

Levi’s every step in these places was careful and quiet, his guard always up, his hood always drawn to hide his face.

Even with the name he'd made down here, he was cautious to use it as a warning sign to keep danger at bay.  Not only did he want to avoid sticking out and alerting L/N to his presence if she was down here, but there were always going to be the idiots who wanted to challenge someone who'd made a notorious name for themselves like he had.  There might be more than normal who wanted to test him if they knew who he was, people who thought that he was a prime target because his name still stood, but his time above ground might have made him soft.

A terrible, foolish notion, really, since his time above ground and part of the Scouts had only made him more dangerous.

He'd been coming down here regularly since his talk with Erwin, scouting the area and looking for any signs of L/N, whatever they may be.  Not many people down here were the talking type, and those who were couldn't give him anything about any surfacer woman prowling the streets.  The only thing they could tell him was to not wander these more dangerous parts of the Underground alone because people who did tended to turn up dead or go missing.

That wasn't news to him. He was already well aware of the dangers of these parts of the Underground that had spawned chilling legends even for the people who saw the darkness of the Underground daily.  He knew what he was doing was dangerous, which made L/N's presence here all the more questionable if he did manage to see her.

Levi glared fiercely at a man who'd been giving him the target sizing look after glimpsed his clean surfacer clothes.  The man slunk back into the shadows and Levi's skin prickled, his senses on high alert for any kind of ambush someone might be tempted to spring on the man leaning against the wall at a four way intersection.  He was keeping his head down to keep his face well shielded, but his eyes were constantly flickering around to take in his surroundings, to watch every figure that passed or came down one of the alleys, tense and ready for a fight every time someone came close to him.

This search was slow work, but with no hint to L/N’s motivations for being down here besides the scent of blood on her cloak, it was the best option he had.

A familiar, dark robed figure flashed by the opposite end of the alley on his right, and Levi straightened, disbelief flashing through him.  Surely that hadn’t been…

Before he lost her in his disbelief, Levi moved quickly through the alley to at least get her within his sights, being mindful not to get too close, even though he needed to at least be able to confirm that it was her.

Sticking to the shadows, Levi peered around the corner of the alley, just enough so he could see the cloaked figure and watch them as they continued down the path at a fairly leisurely pace, as if they were strolling along the lakeside instead of through one of the most dangerous parts of the Underground.

He was fairly certain that was her cloak.  It was the right color, and a quick glance down revealed that yes, it was long enough to drag along the ground like hers did, but at the moment it was gathered and tucked into the waist to keep it from dragging through the filth, keeping it just above the ankles instead.

And those boots were dark brown, leather, suspiciously similar to the Scout’s uniform--even though he couldn’t see the rest from this angle, he was willing to bet they went up to the knee.  The height was right, the posture seemed militaristic--it was a hard thing to shake, especially when still in active duty and so soon after graduating from the cadets, to boot.  Levi held his breath, watching intently and hoping for something a bit more defining that could give him one more bit of evidence to convince him it was her, besides this gut feeling of his.

She took a turn, and while she kept her head down, hood hiding her face, he saw a flash of hair, and glimpsed the civilian clothes underneath--

Civilian clothes he knew were hers because of the day he’d gone through her stuff and saw what she had.  She didn’t have much, so it was easy to tell this was one of the four pairs she owned.

Not wanting to lose her like he had that first night, Levi hurried forward, keeping his steps as quiet as possible.  He had to give her more space then he was used to giving someone that he tailed--he hadn’t forgotten how during the expedition, she seemed to have immensely attuned senses, with how quickly and easily she could pick up on what no one else could see.  He still didn’t want to lose her because he fell too far behind, but he had to be careful--something kept tipping her off to his presence, and while he didn’t know what, he had to control everything he could and make it harder for her to notice his presence.  Distance was his friend, right now.

It was hard, trying to trail someone while having to put so much distance between them that she frequently turned out of sight, but he kept it up, heart pounding in anticipation as his mental map of the area tried to come up with where she was heading.  Right now, it just felt like she was aimlessly wandering, like there was no real direction to where she was going.  What the hell was she doing?

After several minutes of following her around like this, Levi started to grow impatient, wondering if she was aware he was following her and was just walking random places until he got bored and left.  If anything, it was more likely to make him confront her.

Except he needed to see what she was really doing down here, and if she was aware he was following her, that wasn’t going to happen.

Another shadowy figure entered their line, in front of Levi but behind L/N.  It was a man, staying far enough back that he clearly wasn’t walking with her--another tail.  Someone with more sinister intentions, too, Levi would guess, by the way he seemed to be stalking her.  With how far back Levi was, he hadn’t been noticed by this new party, but he was close enough that Levi was certain L/N had noticed them.

Except...she wasn’t trying to shake them.  She should have been able to do it with ease after she had lost Levi so easily that first night, but she didn’t do anything differently.  Her pace remained the same, unhurried and with no real direction, even as the intruder got gradually closer.

What the hell?

Was he wrong?  Was it someone she knew that she was meeting up with?  No, that looked like something else, Levi knew exactly what this was, he’d seen it enough times to recognize when someone was about to get jumped.

On the other hand...this was perfect for him.  Horrible as the initial thought might have been, if he tailed her tail, it put plenty of distance between himself and L/N, and as long as her tail didn’t lose her, even with her completely out of sight he wouldn’t lose track of her.  And if something went wrong, well, he was right here.

Levi shifted his cloak aside at the waist, turning slightly and waiting a few moments before he fired the cables into the nearest building, using it to get onto the roofs and nothing more.  The rest could be on foot, no more use of the gear.  ODM had a very distinct sound any soldier who had been around them as long as L/N had would recognize instantly, so he didn’t dare use it any more times until he’d found what he was looking for.  He didn’t know how keen those remarkable senses of hers were, if it was her hearing or her sight or hell, even her nose like Miche, that had allowed her to spot those Titans.  Because he didn’t know how, he couldn’t risk it.

Now with the advantage of a higher vantage point, Levi followed L/N’s tail from quite a distance, able to see him further and more comfortably from so high up, his footsteps still light and silent even though he was alone on these rooftops.

Being up here reminded him of several things he hadn’t fully realized when he’d lived down here, or that he’d learned to ignore or had forgotten in his time above ground.  How there was no wind down here, which was disconcerting after so long above ground with fresh air and cool breezes.  How dark it really was, even with the orange glow of firelight from homes, impacting his visibility and making it hard to pick out details from a distance.  And the stench--he’d been blocking it out, something he’d trained himself to do down here when he wasn’t in his own space that he could keep clean, but now that he was higher up and not in the thick of the shit, the air wasn’t quite as thick with it.

Slightly.  Just barely.

The man he was following sped up and took a sudden turn into a narrow alley, causing Levi to speed up his step as well, keeping an eye on the opposite end of the alley in case he exited the alley before Levi could reach it.  Crouched low so that he wouldn’t be spotted if someone happened to look up, Levi reached the edge of the building before the alley, his hand placed lightly on the dirt-covered edge as he peered over with care, trying to lean far enough he could see but where he couldn’t be seen, or at least would hardly be seen.  L/N’s tail hadn’t left the alley, so they should be--

Before the alley became visible, Levi realized there were no sounds coming from the alley--no sounds of a fight, no drip of blood, no talking, nothing.  If her tail had caught up to her, there should have been /something/ coming from the alley below.

A few seconds more, and he had visual confirmation that the alley was empty, even though he hadn’t seen anyone leave it from either end.

Levi kept himself calm, not allowing himself to even worry about losing sight of them--he didn’t have the time for that.  Clearly he’d been far enough behind that he’d missed something that had happened.  Maybe they had cut through the building opposite the one he was standing on.  There were no sounds coming from there, either--it was silent as the grave in this part of the city, unsettlingly enough.  But it let him know they weren’t simply hiding in one of the buildings beneath him.

He knew this area--he knew the Underground, had grown up here, walked these streets or at least mapped out in his mind the best and worst places for all kinds of situations.  He could figure out what had happened.  Whether she got the drop on her tail or her tail had successfully jumped her, if they weren’t here they would have gone somewhere discreet, somewhere private that was also nearby.  Not a residence, and anything that was dilapidated beyond even entry wouldn’t work.  What was the best spot for that criteria that was also nearby, close enough it could be quickly ducked into without anyone noticing?

Levi jumped over the edge of the building and dropped back down into the mud, knees bent to absorb the impact before he quickly shifted, navigating the streets quickly and with a purpose as he closed in on the building that came to mind.  He was still careful to be quiet and stealthy lest he spook L/N and lose his chance, but he was now running out of time--the longer they were out of sight, the greater the chance he would fail to see what was happening.  And he’d come so close, he couldn’t let the opportunity slip past him again.

Her being in trouble didn’t even cross his mind--he knew she could have shaken that tail if she wanted to, and she had beaten him in a sparring match.  Even if that tail jumped her, he doubted she would be the one in trouble.

*Reader’s POV*

The one thing you hated the most about coming to the Underground to hunt was the smell.  With how sensitive your senses were, it was absolutely horrid for you.  It had taken all of your focus and much of your time when you’d first come down here to learn how to block that foul smell out, though usually it involved handicapping your sense of smell altogether--except for with blood.  Blood always pierced through any mental block you’d constructed for yourself.

Still, you were down one sense when you came down here to hunt, refusing to breathe through your nose so you wouldn’t become nauseous, sickened by the stench in the air.

The only time that changed down here was when you fed--when the scent of blood filled your every breath with your teeth latched into your most recent kill, warm at first but growing gradually colder as you drained the life from them, a hand over their mouth to muffle any sound or screams until they could make them no more.

Of course you had known about the shady individual tailing you--you had wandered aimlessly in one of the worst parts of the Underground specifically so you could draw someone out, could lure in one of the many victimizers that lurked in these dark corners and turn the tables on them, making their chosen path of victimizing and terror a fatal one.  As soon as he entered the dark, isolated alley that you had turned into, you had grabbed him and dashed away with that inhuman speed of yours, pulling him into the nearest abandoned, unowned building where you immediately sank your teeth into him to satiate the hunger that had started to claw at you once again.

Hidden in the darkest corner of the abandoned building, the man had stopped moving beneath you, body turning cold, though from experience you knew he still had more blood to give.  You were going to take it all, so it would last you just a little while longer before you had to delve back into the Underground’s cesspool for a fresh kill to satiate the hunger again after it returned.

By now, this was normal for you.  You had been doing it for decades, and had long worked out your feelings over the moral implications of it all.  This was just your way of life, how you survived.  And it would continue to be for years and years to come.

One thing about scents down here--there was no wind to carry them away or towards you.  So when you picked up on someone’s scent, it usually meant they were close...very close.  Especially since you went out of your way to block scents down here unless you were in the middle of a feed, like right now.

As such, you stiffened when you caught the beginning traces of a familiar scent, one that was usually carried towards you on a breeze and let you know you were being watched.  Tea leaves, cleanliness or cleaning products, hints of mint that might have just been a figment of your own imagination because it was something you associated with a clean smell.

Levi.  And if you were catching his scent strongly enough for it to pierce through the blood you were feeding off, then he was dangerously close.

Immediately, you tried to gulp down every last drop you could, wanting to still finish so you wouldn’t have to come back down here so soon, even though your instincts were yelling at you to get out of here before he found you.  As a result of your suddenly rushed attempts to finish your meal, you made a bit more of a mess than you usually did.  Blood smeared across your face and dribbled down onto your shirt, some unfortunately falling to the ground below as your teeth tore into the man’s neck in an attempt to get this last bit to gush out.

You could hear him, he was just outside the building, you couldn’t wait any longer, you’d already waited too long.

How much had he seen?  How long had he been onto you?  How had he found you?

You could worry about that when you were safely back at the Scout’s headquarters and in the process of cleaning up any evidence you’d ever been to the Underground, right now, you had to leave.

Now you didn’t even have time to try and hide the body.

Teeth unlatching from the man’s neck, hood pulled low over your head to hide all of your features, you finally bolted, heading for the opposite side as you heard the door open, worried that you still had been too late, that he might have seen your hasty exit, or at least a flash of your cloak disappearing around the corner of the open doorway.

There was no chance to take it back now.  The best you could do was damage control and dig in your heels.  He might have seen your cloak, maybe, but as far as you knew, he had no way of knowing it was you.  No definitive way, anyway.  He hadn’t seen your face, hadn’t seen any defining features.  As far as you were aware, he’d only seen your cloak.  You still had a chance.  Especially if you cleaned your clothes fast enough and thoroughly enough there wasn’t a trace of blood or the Underground on them.

Heart pounding as you attempted to keep yourself calm so you could act rationally and not tip your hand and give yourself away by panicking, you raced back to the surface to start disposing of evidence in the safety of your quarters.

*Levi’s POV*

Levi tried to be quick when he opened the door, intending to catch L/N in the middle of whatever was happening in here and then act accordingly.  As far as he was aware, he’d acted fast enough and quietly enough he should have gotten the drop on her, even with that apparent sixth sense of hers that had allowed her to avoid him thus far.  The door swung open, and he saw a blur of motion--a blur he tried to write off as simply his eyes still adjusting to the scene at first--and the flash of a dark cloak disappearing around the corner.

Levi’s eyes widened at the realization that blur or at least the cloak was L/N fleeing from the scene, a ‘Tch!’ escaping him as he dashed across the abandoned building to try and make it out the other side before she could disappear again, hand on the edge of the doorway as he slid out into the alley on the other side.

Nothing.

He rushed to the mouth, hoping that maybe she had just turned out of sight, that he wasn’t about to lose her again like he had the first time he’d followed her.

Again, nothing.  Not even the sound of retreating footsteps.  She was just...gone, like the first time.

“Shit!”

Swearing loudly to himself, with the sound surprisingly disconcerting when it was thrown out into the silent streets, Levi turned back to the abandoned building, the only thing he had now that L/N had fled.

She had fled, which meant that this time she might have left something behind for him to find in her haste to leave.  People got sloppy when they were in a rush, and he was going to take full advantage of it.

Giving one last frustrated look down the deserted street, Levi doubled back to the abandoned building she had been inside, standing in the middle of the room as his eyes did a quick roam over his surroundings, looking for anything out of place, anything out of the ordinary.

Over in a dark corner, there was a mass, some kind of shape that looked distorted and unlike any kind of furniture or item found in an abandoned building like this.  It wasn't moving, but Levi still approached with caution, the dark shape slowly taking form as Levi approached, gradually becoming clearer as Levi silently came closer.

It was a body.  The tail he'd been following, from the looks of it, though Levi still didn't have a cause of death.  The body was distorted and lying unnaturally, head bent at an odd angle--not broken, just left in an odd position--and it was lying face down, as if it had been dropped in a rush.

He had interrupted something.  The question now was what had he interrupted.  His gaze had already darkened with the realization she'd left a body behind, but whether this had been intentional or self-defense remained to be seen.  The motive, her intentions, were largely going to affect how he reacted.

Levi turned the body over with his foot and froze, staring at the man’s throat.  It was ripped out, like an animal had sunk its teeth all the way in but had been startled into tearing away before it was ready, bringing half the man’s throat with it.  Yet, despite the gruesome sight, there were only a few drops of blood on the ground beneath the body, a couple light smears around the wound itself.  When Levi crouched down to touch the body, it was ice cold against his fingers.  Algor mortis shouldn’t have even started yet, the man had hardly been dead for a few moments, but there was next to no blood despite his manner of death, the body lacked all warmth--the warmth shouldn’t have drained from him for at least a half hour.

There should have been blood all over this place--should have still been some blood in him draining to the parts of his body lying on the ground.  And yet…

A memory was making its way unbidden to the front of his mind, whispering sinister, impossible, dark thoughts into his mind as Levi stared at the dead man's throat.  A memory of a legend Kenny once tried to scare him with, one he had dismissed as nonsense and scoffed at the impossible tale.

A tale about an immortal creature that plagued the Underground as long as there had been an Underground, choosing the miserable place because of its darkness and isolation from the sun, and its plethora of people that no one would even care if someone went missing every now and then.  An undead demon with glowing red eyes, the last thing a man saw before it feasted on his blood and drained the life out of him, leaving his empty body lying in the street with his throat ripped open.

Kenny had told it to him once to scare him, to keep him from getting too cocky and thinking he was untouchable.  And Levi had called him out on it, called it the bullshit he'd been so sure that it was.  There was no such thing as demons or bloodsucking monsters.  There were real monsters in the world, but not of this dark, fantastical variety.

And Kenny had taught him the lesson that had led him here.  And made him a bit more wary of the darker corners of the world.

"Maybe not demons...or maybe there are. There's Titans above ground, right?  Why wouldn't we have our own brand of monster down here?"

Kenny scratched his chin.  "Whether you believe in the demon part or not, there's always a little truth to every legend.  At the least, there's probably a killer somewhere down here with a signature like that who caused the stories."

Levi looked dubiously at Kenny. "Yeah?  How do I know they're not just legends about your murders."

"Because, Runt.  I slit throats, I don't rip 'em out."

Levi felt his blood run cold, chilling him to the core.

What he’d witnessed...she had not been a target, she had never been someone’s prey; she had been the hunter luring in an unsuspecting victim.

How long had she been doing this?  A couple years at least, going off how long she'd been sneaking out to the Underground, but it probably went on before that, before she joined the military, before she even showed up on the surface.  When he'd caught the smell of blood on her cloak he hadn't expected this to be the source.

“I...conduct blood rituals to achieve perfection.”

That deadpan delivery at the table in the mess hall--had she been secretly mocking them?  Or, more accurately, secretly mocking him, the one trying to figure out what she was hiding?

Was she...even human?

It was insane, but so was the thought of the empty grave before he’d opened that coffin.  It was madness, but it fit, it made things that had seemed alien suddenly belong in this greater picture.  Where else would all this blood have gone, especially with how quickly she had to leave because of his interruption?  How else would she have these senses that told her when Levi was near--that allowed her to know when she was being followed when it should have been impossible, that allowed her to see him in detail in the shadows from a distance yet still draw a perfect portrait, and had made her aware of the Titans before anyone else?  That strength and ease in all of her physical requirements as a soldier had to have come from somewhere, like Levi’s, but this hadn’t been what he was thinking.

And then there was the undead thing, the immortal thing, from the story he’d heard as a child.

No, no that was pushing it too far.  That she might not be human was a hard enough pill to swallow, even when he had his own superhuman abilities and lived in a world of Titans.  He was not a superstitious person, and this was a hard thought to even entertain, let alone to take seriously.  Even when he was staring at a corpse that strongly suggested the truth of the tale.

Even if it would explain how Y/N Frazier crawled out of her grave when it was supposed to be humanly impossible.  Even though it smoothed away the question of how Y/N Frazier and Y/N L/N were connected by suggesting they were the same person.

No matter what the full truth was, he was at a point where he had to confront her either way, for everyone’s safety.  He might be the only one who could match her, physically, and even then he’d have to be extra careful about his approach, because she could still overpower him if he wasn’t careful.  At the very least, she was a murderer, a serial killer who hadn’t stopped even after joining the Scouts and was still regularly killing, and somewhere he used to live, no less.  He had hated living down here, but part of him still took that personally.

At the worst, though, she was a monster of shadowy legend.  One that preyed on humankind, like the Titans.  A true enemy of mankind that it seemed almost no one was aware of.  Now he knew, and he had to do something about it.

But first, the confrontation.  And he better make sure he had her cornered and that he was ready for a fight.  It was likely she would lash out, and he needed to be prepared for a fight for survival.  He needed to be ready to handle the situation as soon as he had the truth, because whether she was a murderer or monster only affected how the fight would go and the severity of the stakes.  If she was a legitimate monster as well as a murderer did not affect the fact that a fight was inevitable--it just decided how deadly it would actually be.

And he needed a contingency in case the worst happened, so the truth wouldn’t die with him.

The Scouts needed to know what lurked within their ranks.  Erwin needed to know.  It was all a front--something deadly was masquerading as one of them, and it needed to be stopped before it could do irreversible damage.

Next Chapter---->

Levi Tags:  @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier@whalerus @sunny-flo @thirstyforsometea​

Wings in the Dark Tags:  @regalillegal @animeluver23 @theshylittleelfgirl @queenthorin1 @dilucs-thighs @sociallyanxiousmouse

[gb-patch]

Patreon NSFW Moment Asks

We’ve got a group of questions for the Patreon NSWF/18+ Moment and we decided to put them all in one big post. “For the NSFW our life DLC, will I have to join Patreon at the 5$ tier in the month it comes out? Or can I join before it releases and I would still get it if I cancel it later? I love the game and I wanna support you guys and get more content but my current pay isn’t there yet XD” You can get the Moment if you’re a member during the month it releases or any month after. I’m afraid if you join now and leave the Patreon before it’s available, you won’t have access to the post with the DLC once that post is made. So if that’s the reward you’d like it’s best to not subscribe to the Patreon just yet. “is the 'our life' nsfw dlc going to be available on android too?” Yeah, we’ll make an Android build. “Hello, I hope you are having a good day. Will the NSFW DLC be sent out to kickstarter backers depending on their backer level. Or is it only available through patreon once it releases?” The 18+ Moment is funded exclusively by Patreon and is a special bonus for our supporters there. It’s not part of what the Kickstarter money went to, though there are a bunch of other DLCs you do get if you supported that. And it won’t be released outside of the Patreon, except for maybe a special alternate upload somewhere for people who really can’t use Patreon. We’ll see if we can find a way to do that. But it won’t be on Steam or Itch.io or anything. “Hi! I read somewhere that there was going to be an nsfw DLC for Our Life exclusively for patreon? I kinda had a question about that. Is it going expand some of the scenes where Cove's "Ah! Too much! Retreat!" so, you know, you get to follow through or is it going to add new scenes? Or if it's something still in the thought process, that's cool too! I was just curious. (ps, I love the game, you guys are awesome tysm for making it)” The 18+ Moment is made of new scenes and takes place a little bit after the Step 3 end, so all of those prior events have already happened. The times where Cove can’t move forward in that moment still occur as they do in the main game. He needs time to take gradual steps and not be so in his own head with worries and expectations and all that. “what exactly will the nsfw dlc add? also could you do the moments from the romance dlc with derek and baxter even if you choose not to date them in the end?“ The NSFW Moment includes three new CGs and it’ll have a decently long script that’s around a similar length to past DLCs. It’s just not separated out into different Moments, it’s one big Moment with different versions based on what you wanna do. And yeah, you can do Derek’s and Baxter’s content without actually getting into a romantic relationship with them. “Hello! I just discovered about the "upcoming" +18 version of Our Life, which made me really happy 'cause I love seeing some blushing Cove on my screen lol. Would be rude or annoying to ask you guys to publish on steam too? Patreon is not so friendly with internacional fans :(I would buy even if the price was higher than the other expansions.Just wondering tho! I hope this doesn't sound annoying! Thank you for making such a beautiful game.” I’m sorry, Steam is not particularly supportive with hosting sexual content, especially VNs. Those tend to have some troubles. Steam could remove the game if they don’t like it, stop promoting it as much, or something else. Even if we didn’t care about keeping the public release of the game family friendly, which we do, it’d still be taking a risk to the rest of the game to add the 18+ content there. But we’ll see if there’s some other solution for those who can’t use Patreon. “This is a dumb question but, what will the 18+ DLC for Our Life will contain that makes it 18+? Will it still retain the main game's tone? I love how the main game came out. It was well worth the wait, I already played it at least 10 times. Thank you so much for making such a game, it really became the thing I looked towards for comfort.” The 18+ Moment will still be the same sort of style as the rest of the game. The characters are just being more intimate with each other. If you don’t like explicit content, though, it’s really fine to simply skip this bonus stuff. Nothing crucial will be missed by sticking to main game scenes. “This game has literally fulfilled everything I could fantasize about a happy childhood and a cute guy to boot! I love the dynamics of both families and how there was room for growth for both sides, each very accepting of their children's choices and feelings. I cannot rave enough about this game! So many things were great! So here is my question since I was curious about the 18+ DLC: Will it occur during Step 3 or Step 4?” It’s set slightly after the ending in Step 3. Cove will still have his Step 3 appearance. Thank you for the questions and support everyone :D! I’m happy you’ve been enjoying the game. —————————————————————— We released a new FAQ! It answers common questions and we’ll keep adding more to it. Please check there before sending an ask. FAQ   Also, if you prefer to just see the main posts without all the asks/reblogs, feel free to follow our side account instead: GB Patch Updates Blog

[whumpasaurus101]

Not Just a Pretty Face

Here's the second part to this ask!!!

master list / previous

also ty @happy-whumper and @milk-carton-whump for helping me to form words XD

CW: Brief talking of conditioned pets / cursing / mention of alcohol / mirror broken with head (mhmm, thats the only way i can think of phrasing that...) / if i missed anything just tell!!!!

Alicia fixed Jack's shirt collar, tucking the fold back down. As she took a second look she stepped closer, smoothing down the creases in his shirt and tie. She ruffled his hair with a smile, “Perfect.” Jack blushed at the compliment and dipped his head. Alicia’s hand ghosted over his cheek and gently pushed his chin up, “Hey, chin up, shoulders back. I need you to try and look tough for me baby, or else tonight wont go well, got it?” Jack licked his lips and gulped, “Y-yes ma’am.” Alicia tutted at the stutter and yanked on the leather collar, causing Jack to choke slightly.

She slowly put on her suit jacket and slipped on her high heel boots. She reapplied her dark red lipstick and smiled, “Let’s go.”

A taxi was in Alicia’s driveway, patiently waiting for them to get in. The man who drove it scared Jack. He was lean and muscular and had a tattoo of a teardrop on his left cheek. He gulped but Alicia shoved him into the back seat and slammed the door behind him.

Her high heels clicked as she walked up to the front door and got in. “Romeo, glad to see you, long time no see, eh?” Romeo chuckled, “Wish I could say the same. I mean really, a handler’s club?” Alicia smirked, looking out the window as the car drove away from the house, “I haven't been out in ages, Rodger’s been away for a while and I had to mind Jack and his little boyfriend.”

Romeo’s head tilted and he looked at Jack from the rear-view mirror, “Boyfriend?” Jack sunk in his seat and rested his head against the window, hiding his blush. “Jack, don't you want to talk about your little boy toy?” Alicia sneered. Jack shook his head, clenching his jaw.

Alicia chortled, “Fine, I will. You know Rodger’s mutt?” Romeo looked at Alicia, “Shit, I’ve missed a bit, haven't I? Rodger got a new pet? But it mustn't have been too long since his last-”

“No, it hasn't. He can't deal with loss, you know that.”

There was silence. Jack fiddled with his fingers as he focused on the vibrations the road sent to the car. He felt the window buzz against his temple and he slowly closed his eyes.

“Well your pet seems to be good, he’s still as quiet as ever.” Alicia chuckled, “Oh trust me, he’s loud when he wants to be! But I am grateful, you should see Rodger’s little mongrel, has a bad fucking attitude and a bold mouth.” Romeo chuckled, shaking his head, “I must say, I’m intrigued by him, maybe I should pay him a visit.”

Alicia cackled, fixing her hoop earrings, “Oh, now I would pay to see that, you’d have him broken in a week!” Romeo chuckled and smiled to himself, keeping his eyes glued on the road. Jack opened his eyes and looked out of the window, watching trees and bushes whizz by.

It was dark, the sky was a light grey, Jack flinched slightly as a droplet of rain hit the window. It slowly rolled down as Jack’s eyes followed it. Next came several others each making a *tink* sound as they each fell.

Romeo sighed and turned on the wipers. Alicia reapplied her eyeshadow and mascara in the windscreen mirror. She checked her watch and sighed, “Could you be driving any slower, for god’s sake.”

Romeo looked at her with one eyebrow raised, “Alright, I know you're stressed about going out since it's been a while, but lose the bitchiness, okay?” Jack gulped, how could he say such a thing to her, she must be livid!

To Jack’s surprise, Alicia laughed, “Alright, alright, sorry, is it that obvious?” Jack’s eyebrows furrowed, if it had been anyone else who had said that, they would've been dead in seconds.

“It's alright, I remember I used to get spooked before every club. Just walk in confidently, and make sure Jack does too. Sit at your own table, let people join you. Normally there’s live music so just focus on that until people come over.” Alicia nodded, taking a mental note. She then cleared her throat, hating how vulnerable she seemed in front of her pet.

“So, how are your pets doing?” Romeo chuckled, “Oh boy, they’re alright. We’re on about ten. Aiden’s trying to sell me another one but-” He blew the air out of his mouth, “-I don't think I can manage another one. Besides, they all have their own positions, the cooks, the cleaners, you know.”

Alicia nodded, “No, I get it. Aiden is just trying to get everyone to try and copy him with his ‘pet hotel’ shit.” “Hey, you can't say anything, you haven't tried it out, it’s actually quite useful.” “Oh, I don't need that, Jack does everything for me, isn't that right Jack?”

Jack felt his cheeks flush slightly, “Y-yes ma’am.”

“Jesus, it takes nothing for that boy to turn as red as a tomato,” Romeo commented. Alicia laughed and looked back at Jack, taking in how red his face had gotten, “He has always been like that, its quite entertaining.”

Romeo looked left then right before pulling out to a new road and he chuckled, “You know what would be funny?” Alicia looked up at him, a devilish smile painted on her lips. “A drinking game. Each time his face blushes even the slightest shade, we take a shot.”

Alicia let out a childish, giddy laugh, “Oh Romeo, I forgot how fun you are, that sounds perfect! Say, how far away do you live from this club?”

Romeo smiled, seeing where Alicia was going with this, “It's about a fifteen minute drive.” Alicia hummed, nodding her head, “What would you say to having two guests over tonight?”

Romeo beamed, “That would be great! Give me a call when you want to be collected, got it?” Alicia nodded, “Thank you again, and we’ll see after.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and left the car. Jack hadn't moved, he didn't dare to.

The rain had stopped by now, it had only been drizzling by then. Alicia opened the car door he had been leaning on and quickly caught him before he fell. “Jesus Christ, get your head out from the clouds baby, cmon!”

Jack scrambled to his feet and smoothed his clothes before Alicia gave out to him, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, shh, its okay, now, lets go.”

She linked arms with him and dragged him to the door of the quartz building. There was two body guards whos frowns both turned to smiles when they saw her, “Alicia! Its been a while, welcome!” One of them beamed. “Why thank you Joe, its great to be back.”

The second one gave a bigger smile and opened the door to the club, “Have a good night ma’am.” It didn't bother Jack that they were speaking to only Alicia and not him. But, if maybe one of them looked at him it would've been nice.

“Jack, sweetie, whats the matter?” Jack looked to alicia who lightly squeezed his arm tighter. Jack gulped, “N-nothing, I’m sorry ma’am.” Alicia frowned, “Alright, but don't forget, you should be grateful for tonight that I have brought you out!”

Jack winced at the sharp tone, “Yes, of course ma’am, I’m sorry. Th-thank you for bringing me out today.” Alicia smiled, “Good boy, now, I need you to be on your best behaviour tonight, there will be a lot of eyes on us.” “Yes ma’am.”

She opened the second door of the corridor and jazz music, clinking of glasses, laughter and chatter filled the room. Scared, pleading eyes shot up to meet with Jack. He quickly cast his eyes downward to the floor and let Alicia guide him to a free table.

Romeo was right. Alicia and Jack had only been sitting at an empty table only for several other handlers to join them only minutes later. Jack knelt obediently by Alicia’s side. Alicia combed her long nails through his curls and softly rubbed behind his ear. Jack closed his eyes in content, taking in the soft warm touch.

The other handlers were talking about their own pets and what they do. Alicia smiled and nodded, occasionally looking down at Jack, making her smile even more at how happy he looked.

Jack half listened to the conversations, there was one called Sandra, another called Ethan and the last one named Lorcan. Lorcan also looked at Jack. By then Jack had his eyes opened, they were still glued to the floor. His head tilted towards Alicia as she used more of her nail.

Once Jack glanced up at Lorcan, the man chuckled, shaking his head. Jack clenched his jaw, what had he done wrong?

“Well, you seem to have a broken pet,” He sneered, Alicia chuckled, “He was a runaway. His previous owner was well-known to be the ‘strict’ kind.” Jack shuddered as his memories of Abraham came back to him, he could never go back there. Never.

“Well, is he useful at all?” Lorcan asked, raising an eyebrow. “Oh yes, he’s not just a pretty face. He’s great company, he can read, write, clean, cook, talk, be quiet, everything!” Jack felt his ears turn hot.

“Hmm, so he’s good around the house?”

“Mhmm.”

Lorcan nodded slowly. He reached for the drink and just as he brought it to his lips, he dropped it to the ground right in front of Jack who immediately flinched back, pressing himself against Alicia with a whimper.

“If he’s so good, make him clean this mess up.” Jack looked at Alicia who thought for a moment before looking at Jack, you heard him, clean it up.” Jack gulped and whined once he felt Alicia’s touch leave.

“M-ma’am, I don't- I don't have anything to clean it up with!” Lorcan smiled, “Do you mind if I take him for a moment, I know where we can get something to clean it up with.” Alicia’s eyebrows furrowed, “Alright, just dont take long.”

Lorcan faked a smile and roughly grabbed Jack by the hair and dragged him over to the bathrooms. Jack yelped and tried to pry the hands out of his hair but it was impossible, “Please, l-let go of me!!” Lorcan snickered, “So the bitch speaks!” Jack -ignoring the insult- let out a yell as his grip tightened.

He was thrown to the ground once they had entered the bathrooms. Jack felt a droplet of blood slowly drip down his forehead, slowly making its way down to his brow. “Get up.” Jack groaned and shook his head. Lorcan muttered something under his breath and yanked Jack up by the arm and smashed him up against the mirror, making Jack bang his head against the mirror.

He let out a cry and felt the glass shatter beneath his skull. He let out a scratch of pain which was soon muffled by Lorcan’s sweaty palm. “Shut the fuck up!” Jack continued to scream, desperate for help. Who was he kidding, he was in a handler’s club, no one was going to save him.

Lorcan brought him forward only to slam his head back against the cracked mirror once more. Jack felt his vision start to slip, his head felt numb and heavy. The pain was excruciating but it was the only thing he could focus on at the moment.

Alicia heard the screams. At first, she thought it was just some other pet but as a second wave of muffled screams came, she recognized them. Jack! She leaped from her seat and ran to the bathroom door. She kicked it open and punched Lorcan straight in the face. Lorcan stumbled back, clutching his face. “Don't touch him! I thought you were going to get something to dry up the mess!”

She softly put her arm around Jack’s shoulders and guided him behind her. “Oh come on,” Lorcan scoffed, “Why do you think we came in here?” Jack watched the vein in Alicia’s neck pop, she was livid. It made Jack feel good though, she cared about him!

“I swear to god, if you touch my boy ever again without my permission I will fucking kill you!” Lorcan just chuckled, shaking his head, “I think you better go.” Alicia clenched her jaw, “Oh, I’ll go when I want to go.” She took out her phone and held it to her ear.

Lorcan rolled his eyes and folded his arms, “And who are you ringing?”

“Romeo, Romeo Zalis.”

Lorcan immediately paled, “Y-you're bluffing.” Alicia raised her eyebrow as a challenge. The ringing stopped, “Alicia, are you okay?” Lorcan recognized the thick Brooklyn accent and gulped, “I uh, need to go.” Alicia smirked and her eyes followed him as he left.

“Yes, although not great people here, think you can collect us early?” Romeo chuckled, “Of course, I’m in a cafe nearby, I shouldn't be too long.”

“Perfect, thank you. Also, I could really do with that drinking game right now.”

Taglist: @likeit-or-whumpit @milk-carton-whump @yesthisiswhump @as-a-matter-of-whump @appy-polly-loggies @happy-whumper @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @myst-in-the-mirror

if you wanna be added or removed just say!! <3

[carewyncromwell]

Cinderelly, Cinderelly, night and day, it’s Cinderelly~... ^.^ Okay..before I jump into the next part of the Cinderella AU, here’s your usual appetizer of random historical/etc. notes!

Although carriages were developed centuries earlier, actual coaches like the kind we think of from Cinderella stories were first developed in the late 16th century in Hungary, specifically a little town called Kocs. (The word “coach” and its alternatives in other languages, such as the German Kutsche and the Spanish and Portuguese coche, are thought to have been derived from the Hungarian kocsi, meaning “of Kocs.”) They then really caught on in the rest of Europe after Queen Elizabeth I of England started using them in the 1580s. The terms “coach” and “carriage” are often used interchangeably, but if one wanted to pin-point the advancements coaches specifically made in contrast to carriages of the past, there are a few differences one can pick out in how they’re built. Coaches generally are four-wheeled enclosed vehicles with doors and/or windows (glass was added in later centuries), and often include a “boot” seat on the outside for a footman and/or luggage to sit on. Coaches also generally have a reputation for providing a smoother ride than previous modes of transport because they’re suspended between the wheels rather than directly over or beside them. After the invention of the coach, one can find carriages (royal ones, in particular) adopting some of these same attributes.

Sadly wheelchairs really weren’t a thing in the 16th century. The first self-propelled wheeled chairs were developed in the mid-17th century and refined in the 18th, with sedan chairs or litters (A.K.A. chairs you carried) generally being used by the nobility prior to that. But there’s no way in Hell I’m not going to give McNully the independence he deserves, so I used a completely anachronistic design inspired by this antique wheelchair I found online, made circa around the 1840′s. Hey, this is a fantasy world anyway, so bleh. :P The flower detailing on the wheel is supposed to evoke an emblem I see being on Florence’s green and gold coat of arms (get it? “Florence?” “Flora?”). You might also notice that McNully has little Snitch-like “wing” frills on each of his buttons! XD

Another fun thing I learned while doing research -- although cloaks were often worn for warmth during the medieval period and beyond, in England during the Elizabethan era, their use was actually actively discouraged and even prohibited, as they were associated with criminals and rebels! Therefore it was common for a lot of English noblemen and women to wear thicker clothing made of wool and accessories like muffs, gloves, and even jackets for warmth instead. I tried very, very hard to find historically accurate examples of period-worthy jackets and capes for women around the time of the Renaissance, and was very frustrated to find a lot of fantasy-esque costume pieces or historical clothing from later eras that were simply mislabeled -- but I did find one lovely recreation of a 16th century wool jacket, so that’s what I used as reference for Carewyn’s jacket in this sketch, though I personally imagine it as a dark red, so as to better blend with her burnt orange and beige servant’s uniform. Bill’s uniform is based off a real castle guard uniform from early 16th century France, though with a much simpler color palette (I see Royaume’s colors being blue and red). Like with McNully’s chair, there’s a crown on the chest of Bill’s uniform, which I see being on Royaume’s coat of arms (“royaume” is literally French for “kingdom”).

In her canon, Carewyn was born when Jacob was nine years old. Although in most of Carewyn and Jacob’s canon post-Portrait-Vault, they end up being only two years apart in age, that’s only because Jacob stopped aging while trapped in a Portrait for seven years. From Carewyn’s fifth year on, Jacob and Carewyn in canon therefore act much more like contemporaries, even though Jacob actually kind of ended up partially raising Carewyn alongside their mother Lane.

Previous part is here – whole tag is here – Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee and I hope you all enjoy! xoxo

x~x~x~x

Every day over the next week, Carewyn met Orion at the gate of the palace of Royaume, and the two would spend an hour or so together. Orion would ask her about life at the palace, Carewyn would playfully respond, and sooner or later, they’d end up getting diverted and talking about something else completely, whether the upcoming Winter Festival, the language of flowers, art, poetry, the meaning of life, music, fencing, or (after seeing a rather beautiful eagle flying overhead) what it might be like to fly. Carewyn honestly wasn’t entirely sure what Orion got out of their meetings besides entertainment, and naturally she couldn’t afford to indulge in such entertainment too long, when she had so much work to do around the castle and she still had to find out where Jacob was positioned. But she had to admit, with the King and Queen having invited Iris over to stay in one of the guest suites at the palace for the remainder of the month, Carewyn didn’t mind having an excuse to stay far away from her cousin. Lately Carewyn had actively planned her days so that she could clean the guest suites at teatime, when Iris would be in one of the foyers with the King, Queen, and Prince on the opposite side of the palace. She did not want a repeat of the other day, after all...particularly since she’d also need time to change out of the nicer, collared dresses she’d wear when spending time with Orion.

Orion, meanwhile, was of course getting a bit more than entertainment out of his and Carewyn’s meetings. Through speaking with Carewyn, he’d sussed out some very helpful information about Royaumanian culture, the dynamics within Royaume’s royal family, and both their and their country’s financial state. One day he told his closest confidantes at court, Skye and McNully, some of what he’d learned...but Skye didn’t react quite as favorably as Orion had expected.

“...I gave Lady Cromwell a copy of the sheet music for ‘No One is Alone’ last week -- you remember the song, of course? And from what I understand, Prince Henri and the castle staff have quite taken to it. Not that I’m surprised -- Carewyn has a very soothing voice. I’m sure she performed it very well. But the Prince listening to the words at all is a good sign -- I even asked Carewyn if the Prince enjoyed them, and she said she believed so. She also found their message meaningful...one of Florence’s best-loved anti-War songs, and one about looking through another’s eyes and forgiving past grievances, no less! That can only be a good sign, for Royaumanians to take heart in it. It surely must have been fate that Lady Cromwell and I collided at the market -- I had a feeling we were kindred spirits, when she came to my aid, but now I am most assured of it. I might hazard a guess that she wishes for peace just as much as I -- for the sake of her brother fighting in the field, yes, but also selflessly for the sake of others, not wishing to see any other person in pain...”

“She sounds like a perfect knight in shining armor,” said Skye, her voice oddly cutting.

Orion looked up at Skye, startled by her tone. Her arms were crossed over the chest of her faded blue linen dress.

“Anything else you want to tell us about the fair Lady Cromwell,” she said rather icily, “or are you actually ready to talk about how you plan to end this War?”

Orion blinked slowly. “...I thought that we were already discussing that.”

“Really?” scoffed Skye. “‘Cause it sounds to me like you were busy gushing over your new conquest.”

“Conquest?” Orion repeated. His confused tone then melted into something more soothing and indulgent, “Oh -- no, Skye...you misunderstand me. I have no interest in courting Carewyn -- she’s just my contact point, with the palace.”

Skye gave a very loud, disbelieving snort. “Ha! Right, of course she is -- that’s why you can’t stop gushing about ‘Carewyn this’ and ‘Lady Cromwell that.’”

“Skye has a point, Orion,” said McNully, though his voice was a lot less confrontational. If anything he sounded almost sheepish. “I mean, about 85% of your report was about Lady Cromwell. You used her name over ten times just in the span of a minute.”

Amazingly Orion’s calm, hard-to-read expression didn’t crack. His hands clasped lightly in front of him.

“Lady Cromwell plays an essential part in this strategy. I’m an outsider looking in, without her insight -- a ship sailing blindly, without the light from a lighthouse to give me direction.”

“A lighthouse for a lost ship -- oh yeah, those sound like the words of someone who’s focusing on winning a war and not swooning over a pretty face,” said Skye scathingly. “Maybe instead of always running off and playing dress-up, you could actually bother to do your duty and go help fight on the battlefield for once!”

Orion’s lips came together tightly, but it didn’t make his expression any less composed. McNully shot Skye an uncomfortable, faintly disapproving look.

“Easy, Skye,” he murmured. “You know Orion -- ”

But Skye didn’t seem to hear McNully. Instead she tore into Orion.

“Face it, Orion -- you just like being treated like a commoner again and being able to make believe that you don’t have any responsibilities or worries...well, guess what? You’re not a commoner anymore! You’re the Prince of Florence -- you reckon little Miss Knight-in-Shining-Armor would take kindly to that, when she finds out?”

Orion’s dark eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly upon Skye’s face.

“Carewyn’s not an unreasonable woman,” he said softly. “I’m certain she would understand the reason behind my secrecy.”

This, if anything, only seemed to make Skye madder.

“Of course she would,” she muttered sourly. “Little Lady Royaume can do no wrong in your eyes, can she?”

She turned on her heel and stormed out, leaving Orion feeling very resigned and confused. McNully gave a heavy sigh, before facing Orion with a more serious expression.

“She’s overreacting, as usual,” he said, “but she’s still 60% right. It’s risky enough for you to get this close to anyone right now, when your position as Crown Prince is threatened by the likes of Lord Malfoy. He’d frankly love to have something like that over you. But someone from Royaume? The granddaughter of one of the most powerful, wealthy, and feared noblemen in their country? Orion, that’s dangerous.”

Orion leaned his hands on the table, looking down at the map of Florence and Royaume laid out on top of it.

“McNully, I assure you...my objective has not changed,” he said very levelly. “Everything I have done is for Florence -- for peace and balance. I admit, Lady Cromwell is a fascinating woman, and certainly one to be admired...but I spend time with her to gather intelligence I can obtain nowhere else. That is all.”

McNully looked doubtful, but didn’t directly address it. Instead he said, “I understand she’s your eyes and ears inside the palace, and the intelligence you’re getting is valuable...but don’t forget, she isn’t on your team. She’s on Royaume’s. And right now, Royaume is kicking our tail out there, on the battlefield.”

Orion’s dark eyes drifted away from the table as McNully leaned his arms on the table himself.

“It’s getting bad again,” he murmured very seriously. “I know you said the palace of Royaume’s strapped for funds, but somehow or another, they’ve scrounged up enough to get more cannons, and their troops have been moving them around every couple of hours so that our men never know where they’re going to be firing from next. It’s been very effective. Whoever’s been giving Royaume’s King and Queen military strategy lately, they’re a bloody genius.”

McNully clearly was irritated about this, given the flash that shot through his narrowed eyes.

“Your father sent me a request for a counter-strategy this morning. You know it’s likely if the strategy isn’t one he can execute on his own, he may ask both you and me to join him there, on the front lines.”

Orion did not respond. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but there was something oddly detached and avoidant in his posture.

“I know you don’t want that, and you know I have faith in you,” said McNully, “but your strategy is a slow burn, Orion. It requires both patience and time...and we might not end up having as much of those as you think.”

Once again, Orion chose not to answer. McNully sighed again.

“You know I’ll be right behind you in a coach, if you need me,” he said tiredly. “Just...mind that you use your head as well as your heart, all right?”

Orion threw on his black traveling cloak and headed back to Royaume not long after, hoping to meet up with Carewyn for an evening stroll. There was a notable chill in the air -- if it got much colder, he thought that any rain might instead come down as sleet or maybe even snow.

When Orion arrived at the gate, however, he was met not by Carewyn, but by KC. She was dressed in a high-necked gown made of black velvet and holding a leather-bound book and a stack of parchment in her arms.

Orion tilted his head slightly to glance at the piece of parchment on the top of the stack, which had several “X’s” scattered over an oddly familiar map.

“Plans to bury some pirate treasure?” he asked pleasantly.

KC gave a lightly amused snort. “No, just military plans.”

Her lightly freckled face then grew a bit more serious. “I guess you’re here for Carewyn?”

Orion had been ready to ask more about the military plans KC was holding, but decided not to circle back to it when she changed the subject.

“Yes. Has she been detained?”

“I guess so...” said KC. Her lips twisted into a concerned frown as she looked out at the darkening sky.

Orion’s eyebrows knit together over his eyes slightly. “You seem concerned.”

KC bit her lip. “Mm...it’s just...well, you see, one of the royal carriages broke down earlier today, when the Queen was riding through the country with Lady Yaxley.”

Orion raised his eyebrows. “Lady Iris Yaxley, do you mean? Carewyn’s cousin?”

“Yes. No one was badly hurt, fortunately, but the Queen, Lady Iris, and the coachman and footman were forced to ride the horses back and leave the carriage behind. When they got back, they asked the royal carpenter, Charlie Weasley, to go fix it. Charlie said that he probably wouldn’t have the proper tools to fix it here at the castle, so Carewyn offered to ride out with him, so that their horses could drag the coach together to the Weasley family cottage, about forty minutes away. The problem is,” she said with a deepening frown, “they left over two hours ago, and they’re still not back yet. Bill headed out after them on his own horse not long before you got here...he’s Charlie’s brother, so he knows the route they would’ve taken...”

Orion’s dark eyes had narrowed significantly.

“Which road did Sir Weasley take after them?” he asked, his calm voice nonetheless touched with the faintest edge.

KC pointed. “Northwest -- toward the mountains.”

Orion nodded. “Thank you.”

And with this, he turned on his heel and rushed back toward where he thought he might find McNully’s coach. He needed to borrow a horse.

Setting one of the black horses free of the black coach, Orion rode off toward the mountains, his slightly-too-long dark hair flapping freely behind him. The road was well-marked, but it soon veered off into dense woods as it migrated up toward the mountains. Orion had never gone so far west into Royaume before, let alone far from Florence before. Despite himself, he had to acknowledge the beauty of the landscape. The views of the castle below were breathtaking -- it looked as tiny as a toy, and yet the infinite glass windows made it sparkle like some diamond-like beacon in the darkening sky. He wondered if his own palace in Florence looked so beautiful to others, at a distance. As much as he himself hadn’t been raised a prince, it was difficult for him to look at his own palace as anything other than a cage.

As he went further uphill and the sky darkened, it also grew colder. Orion was starting to see his own breath on the air. He thought of Carewyn alone in the cold, perhaps hurt, and had to take several deep breaths to sooth his nerves. He was never in a right state, when he let his thoughts run too wild or his fears chatter too loudly.

Finally Orion caught sight of two familiar ginger-headed men, standing by an overturned coach, covered in mud and missing one of its back wheels. One of the men was the tall, freckled castle guard from the other day who Carewyn called Bill, dressed in his high-collared blue and red patterned uniform tunic and matching white feathered, blue-velvet hat -- the other was much stockier, but no less freckled, dressed in a burgundy-colored tunic and loose brown pants and boots, and he wore his ginger hair in a ponytail not unlike Orion’s when he was at court. When Orion approached them, Bill immediately reacted with suspicion -- Orion explained what KC had told him and asked where Carewyn was, and was incredibly startled to hear her voice coming from over the edge of the cliff.

“I’m down here!”

Orion couldn’t help but feel a flash of concern. He raced over as if to look over the edge, but Charlie lashed out an arm in front of the taller man to stop him.

“Uh, I wouldn’t look over if I were you, mate,” he said, having trouble biting back his laughter despite himself.

He pointed at the broken carriage. Hanging over one of the doors was what looked like the burnt orange and beige skirt of a dress and several wool petticoats.

Orion blinked a few times in great surprise, his tanned cheeks darkening with a faint blush. Bill, however, reacted with anxiety.

“Carewyn!” he shouted over the ravine. “Are you in your underwear down there!?”

“Ugh -- well, I couldn’t very well climb down into this briar patch and wrench this wheel loose in my dress, could I?” Carewyn called back up rather haughtily. “At least my bloomers are slightly akin to the sorts of trousers you all wear.”

“You’ll catch a death of cold out here!” said Bill.

“I’m all right,” Carewyn reassured him. “Ulk -- ugh -- I have the wool jacket Andre made for me on...”

Charlie took a step forward, his eyes moved up toward the darkening sky pointedly so as not to look over the edge as he called down,

“Bill’s right, though, Carewyn -- it’s getting colder by the minute...and it’s getting dark too. Are you sure you can lift that thing up and over all by yourself?”

“Ugh...I admit, it’s a bit difficult!” she called back. “But I think I can manage.”

Recalling Carewyn’s blatant refusal of help in retrieving her horse, Orion -- still fighting back a slight blush -- called over the ravine himself.

“We do not question your capabilities, Carewyn,” he said patiently, “but would you like our help?”

“Ugh -- don’t be silly,” said Carewyn, sounding faintly haughty. “You, Charlie, and Bill would break your necks, climbing down here. And I’m still in my undergarments -- I have no interest in anyone seeing me prance around without proper clothes on, thank you.”

“It’s no use,” Charlie muttered under his breath, “I’ve tried to offer her help for the last hour, but she keeps putting me off, saying she’s fine. I don’t get why she feels like she has to do everything by herself...”

“Probably because she’s always had to, Charlie,” said Bill quietly. His voice betrayed a lot of sympathy and sadness as he exhaled through his nose.

Orion’s black eyes deepened with some compassion for Bill as he called back over the ravine to Carewyn,

“Your points are well made, my lady...but we’d still like to help you.”

“Ugh -- you can help me by leaving me my dignity and not looking over while I’m only half-dressed...ack...”

“Would you accept us doing more than that?”

“Urgh -- I am...sorry to have made you and Bill come out all this way -- but I’m all right, really.”

Bill glanced at Orion out the side of his eye, and then back at the cliff. Despite his distrust of the man, the eldest Weasley was sort of glad he wasn’t the only one who disliked how reticent Carewyn was to accept help.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said earnestly. “I was -- we were worried about you, Carewyn. You and Charlie.”

He and Orion glanced at each other. Bill wished the other man’s expression wasn’t so hard to read. The castle guard tried to twist his uncomfortable frown into a smile that Carewyn would hopefully be able to hear over the edge of the cliff.

“Come on...let’s get you and that wheel up and over so you can get back into your dress.”

There was a silence. Then Carewyn said a bit more quietly,

“...You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Wha -- oh, come off it, Carewyn!” said Charlie exasperatedly. “To hell we do! You think I was mucking about, calling you my pal and saying I needed to figure out a nickname for you? Now let us help you, or I’ll consider making that nickname an irritating one!”

There was another silence. Then Carewyn sighed very loudly and tiredly, and Orion couldn’t help but grin, because he could tell she’d finally given in.

“Oh, all right,” she said begrudgingly. “But I don’t really know how you’re going to help, when you can’t look at me.”

Orion closed his eyes.

“Describe your surroundings, Carewyn,” he said. “Paint a picture for me, with your words.”

“...Well, I’ve gotten the wheel out of the briar patch. I’m trying to roll it back up, but it’s as large as me, and the downward slope and the ice is making it difficult. Plus the wheel isn’t in great shape -- all of its spokes are broken, so there isn’t much for me to push up on, while rolling it uphill.”

“I would’ve told her to just forget it, but it’d be much easier for me to carve a new wheel if I have framework from the old one,” Charlie explained. “I’m already going to have to make the new spokes and hubcap completely out of wood instead of using any gold or metalwork, but it’s still going to take a lot of time...even more so if the old wheel framework can’t be saved...”

Orion considered the matter, visualizing the set-up down below on the inside of his eyelids. “...What’s left of the wheel...is it made of metal or wood?”

“Wood...but there seems to be some sort of metal lining around the rim, held on by nails.”

“That’d be for durability, I reckon,” said Charlie. “Wood alone would get chaffed badly on the ground, moving in a constant circle down cobblestones or over anything rocky.”

Orion opened his eyes and looked over the broken coach. His gaze lingered on the thick leather straps coming off of the front that no doubt would’ve attached it to their horses. Then he abruptly got up, rushing over to undo the straps from the carriage.

“What are you doing?” said Bill, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Orion quickly knotted the long, thick leather straps together with several complex-looking and strong knots.

“Carewyn,” he called over very calmly, “I’m going to lower this down to you -- use the buckle and loop it securely around the inside rim of the wheel, so that it’s tight. Give it a light tug when it’s secure.”

He blindly tossed one end of the rope made out of leather straps over the edge of the cliff. After a minute, he felt a light tug at the end.

“Gentlemen,” Orion murmured to the Weasleys, “I’ll need you to hold this, for just a moment. Carewyn,” he added, as Charlie and Bill both grabbed the end of the makeshift rope and he let go, “I’m going to need you to step onto the wheel yourself and hold on.”

“What?” said Carewyn. “Orion, you can’t lift both me and the wheel -- it’s far too much! I’ll climb up and out myself -- ”

“Not to worry, my lady -- none of us will be doing the lifting,” said Orion serenely.

He led both his black horse and Bill’s chestnut horse over by their reins, and -- taking the makeshift rope from Bill and Charlie again -- he looped the end under the straps of both his and Bill’s saddles. He gave several tugs at all of the connections to make sure they were tight and secure before mounting his horse.

“Sir Weasley, if you would assist me.”

Catching onto Orion’s idea at last, Bill rushed forward so he could jump up onto his own horse.

“Mr. Weasley, you may want to have your hands ready to help Carewyn climb out when she gets close to the top,” said Orion over his shoulder. “Sir Weasley, together now.”

With a lot of effort and strain, the two horses were able to lift Carewyn and the broken wheel up and out of the ravine. Once Carewyn was out, all three men averted their eyes so she could put her dress back on. Once she was suitably redressed in her orange-and-beige dress, snood, and dark scarlet wool jacket, she, Bill, and Orion helped Charlie secure some makeshift posts he’d carved out of some nearby tree branches under the broken coach so that their four horses could lift it up off the ground and help support it without its second back wheel. Then the four hobbled the coach up the mountain the rest of the way to the Weasley family cottage.

The home of the Weasley family, affectionately nicknamed “the Burrow,” was built up against the side of a hill. Attached to the house was a large farm with sprawling pastures and short, rustic wooden fences. Its roof had clearly been patched up multiple times over the years with whatever kind of wood was on hand, making it resemble a patchwork quilt.

When the group arrived, Bill and Charlie’s youngest sibling and only sister Ginny immediately ran out to greet them -- she’d seen them coming up over the horizon and was beyond thrilled to see that it was her eldest brothers. Bill and Charlie’s teenage brothers Percy, Fred, George, and Ron soon followed along after. Fred and George -- who were identical twins -- were quick to crow that Charlie had brought them an early birthday present (namely, the coach), and Percy scolded them that clearly it was for work and they should let it alone. Orion and Carewyn ended up staying back at a distance, both faintly baffled by the amount of warmth and noise emanating from the seven siblings as they chattered amongst themselves, constantly stepping on each other’s feet and interrupting what everyone else was saying. Neither of them had ever encountered a family quite like this before. When Bill and Charlie’s parents, Arthur and Molly Weasley, emerged from the house, however, Molly very quickly bustled every last one of them inside, including Orion and Carewyn.

“In you go, the lot of you,” she said in a forceful, but very warm tone of voice. “You all look like you need some supper-- ”

“Oh -- no, Mrs. Weasley,” said Carewyn very quickly, “I couldn’t impose -- ”

“Nonsense, dear!” said Molly, as she took Carewyn’s hands and led her inside. “Why, you’re positively freezing! To think, you came all the way out here without a proper muff for your hands...”

“I had to help Charlie with the carriage,” Carewyn said, her eyes drawn away awkwardly rather than looking at Molly, “I couldn’t hope to have my hands free, using a muff...”

“Then both of you should come inside and get warm,” said Arthur, startling Orion with an amiable clap on the back. “Any friend of Bill and Charlie’s is a friend of our family.”

Carewyn had never been the subject of such coddling and generosity before in her life. Her mother had always taught her to treat people with respect and compassion, of course, but she had been a soft-spoken and understated person, and their family life had always been very quiet. And of course at the Cromwell estate, it had been less modest and quiet, but far less affectionate as well. Never had she ever visited such a loud, crowded, and faintly uncomfortable place that still nonetheless felt like a home, full of warmth and love.

Even Orion found himself feeling a bit unsettled by the Weasley family’s overwhelming hospitality. He’d been in plenty of unruly, crowded, and loud settings like this before -- but none of them had ever been quite this...well, jovial. It made it so that Orion yearned for peace, quiet, and returned distance, and yet also couldn’t help but marvel at the positive vibes that rippled off of this family and how much they could give, despite clearly having so little. When dinner was served, Orion had to politely decline a bowl of beef stew because he didn’t eat meat, and Molly Weasley immediately handed the bowl off to Ron so she could set about making Orion his own plate, piled high with cheesy mashed potatoes, sauteed mushrooms, and roasted cauliflower seasoned with garlic and chives.

The Weasley family and their guests sat in an uncomfortable, messy half-circle around the large brick fireplace, laughing and talking as they ate. After supper came the dessert of hot, fresh apple dumplings, and after dessert came some hot tea and scones. After all, said Molly Weasley, having guests over was a rare treat, so they were going to celebrate appropriately. Neither Carewyn nor Orion could remember ever having felt so full in all their lives.

As everyone enjoyed their scones and tea, stories and songs were swapped around the fire. At one point in the evening, twelve-year-old Ginny -- who was perfectly thrilled to have another girl around, for a change -- begged Carewyn to sing for them. Apparently Bill had told his family all about her lovely voice. So, with some encouragement from Charlie, Arthur, and Molly, Carewyn bit back a broad, amused grin, took a deep breath, and started to sing.

“Mother cannot guide you...now you’re on your own.

Only me beside you -- still, you’re not alone...”

Orion had thought to himself that Carewyn must have done the song from his youth proper justice while singing for the Prince, but hearing her sing it in person, seeing her smile at him and her eyes sparkle as she did so...it was a completely different matter. As before, Orion felt all of the tension in his shoulders ebb off of him, as easily as dirt was washed away in warm water. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, tilting his head a bit so that he could hear her better, as his breathing and heart rate slowed. Even with his eyes closed, he could hear a smile in every word Carewyn sang...even when she likely wasn’t smiling at all, he thought. How could she be smiling, when lines like “sometimes people leave you half-way through the wood” and “people make mistakes -- fathers, mothers” rang with such emotion and pain? Was that pain visible on her face? Orion thought not, given Carewyn’s sense of grace and composure...but he heard it, all the same. He felt it -- her heart, aching with a kind of deep, blazing empathy Orion had never encountered in anyone else before.

When Carewyn came to the end of the song, Orion opened his eyes at last. The Weasleys all clapped, delighted, but he barely heard them as he turned to Carewyn.

“...That was remarkable,” he murmured.

Carewyn smiled. “I’m glad you think I did it justice.”

“Mm,” said Orion. “I’ve...never heard anyone drown like that, before.”

Carewyn couldn’t bite back a laugh. “Perhaps I didn’t do it justice then, if I sounded like I was drowning...”

“You were drowning in the words’ meaning,” corrected Orion. “Enveloping and submerging yourself in them -- allowing them to pull you in and take your breath away.”

He smiled, his black eyes very soft upon Carewyn’s face.

“It was...very moving.”

Molly’s face spread into an indulgent smile as she reached forward and patted Carewyn’s hand. “It was absolutely beautiful, dear.”

“Orion’s right, Carewyn,” agreed Arthur. “Your feelings really came through. I could tell the words mean something to you.”

Carewyn offered a polite smile, even as her eyes drifted away. “...I suppose they do.”

“It sounds like a lullaby, sort of,” mused Ron. “Even if it talks about your mother not being around.”

Ginny tilted her head toward Carewyn, Ron’s words prompting concern.

“...Do you not have a mother, Carewyn?”

The rest of the family went very quiet -- some like Percy shot Ginny warning looks, while others like Molly and Ron couldn’t help but glance at Carewyn in similar concern.

Carewyn’s gaze had drifted off onto the fire. Although she was turned away and her face was stoic, however, Orion could see her eyes rippling like turbulent ocean water, before she closed them solemnly.

“...I had one,” she answered softly at last. “She died when I was twelve.”

“Was she sick?” asked Ron, very hesitantly.

Carewyn bowed her head and gave a single, silent nod. Everyone in the room knew what that meant. The Plague had swept through both Royaume and Florence several times, over the span of the War -- one of the worst years was about nine years ago now...probably the same year Carewyn had lost her mother.

Orion’s black eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly upon her face. Molly looked like she wanted to envelop Carewyn in the biggest hug and was only holding back the urge because of her husband’s tight, reassuring squeeze to her hand.

“Oh, you poor dear,” she murmured.

Carewyn raised her head at last, her expression once again touched by a small, resilient, pretty smile.

“It’s all right,” she said gently, her eyes only briefly grazing each of the Weasleys’ faces. “I’ll always miss my mother...but I’m getting along all right. And I still have Jacob.”

“Your brother?” asked Percy, and Carewyn nodded.

“He left for War the same day he and I moved in with our grandfather,” Carewyn explained.

“Your brother must be quite a bit older than you, then,” said Orion.

Carewyn glanced at Orion out the side of her eye, smiling slightly. “Nine years older, yes. You know...you actually remind me of him, a bit.”

Orion raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

Carewyn was forced to stifle a giggle behind her hand. “Jacob is also the sort to do things in his own clever way. Only he’s a lot more aggressive than you -- and more talkative, and arrogant, and overprotective...”

“And uglier,” inserted Fred.

“And smellier,” added George.

“With a long crooked nose and ears like a bat’s.”

The younger Weasley siblings were all laughing now. Carewyn had to cover her mouth to stifle her giggling.

“No!” she choked. “I don’t mean it like that! He’s wonderful, really. He’s just...well, an absolute idiot about how to interact with other people. He’s completely brilliant, mind you -- he could give you whole lectures about anything from geography to mathematics to physics...but coming up with spontaneous gifts for no occasion at all, just based on someone’s interests? He’d need some prodding, to do something like that.”

She smiled at Orion, who couldn’t help but grin fully in return.

“It was truly nothing at all, Carewyn,” he said. “With your love of music, it felt like that song would be something you would appreciate.”

Arthur glanced at Orion curiously. “Where is that song from, Orion? I’ve never heard it before.”

“I learned it as a boy,” Orion answered. “I would hear it sung outside the window of the workhouse, sometimes.”

Molly looked very troubled. “Workhouse? Orion dear, you don’t mean to say you grew up in one of those terrible places?”

Orion felt Carewyn’s gaze on him. When he looked back at her, her almond-shaped blue eyes were rippling with concern as well, though much gentler and more empathetic than Molly’s. He tried to offer her a smile.

“Let’s just say the words spoke to me as well, at the time,” he said lightly. “Not just to me, either...all of the boys there, one way or another, were where they were because of other people’s ‘terrible mistakes.’”

Orion’s gaze drifted down to his own hands as he lightly clasped them in his lap.

“...The War doesn’t touch you the same way here, but...the closer you are to Florence...the more the reality of it hits you in the face, every day. Even when you’re not on the battlefield itself -- even when you’re just at the border -- you, and the ones you care for, run the risk of getting caught in the crossfire. And on the border of Florence and Royaume...in those towns where it’s hard to tell where one country starts and another begins...tensions are like gunpowder. One spark from the tiniest match can set it ablaze -- can make everything implode, and force you to start all over again.”

His face was unreadable, but his black eyes were endless, rippling with the recollection of the fire and smoke -- the red and blue colors of Royaume, on the saddles of horses -- the life leaving his mother’s eyes -- his own heavy, terrified hyperventilating...

He closed his eyes and took several very deep, measured breaths before continuing.

“In such a place...one can find people desperate enough to want to lash out at others, to avenge their pain,” said Orion solemnly. “But there was one sweet old woman who owned a flower and herb shop near the workhouse. She’d had to rebuild her establishment several times over the years, and from what I understand, she finally had to leave town not long after I did...but every time she caught wind that the army was coming to town, looking for new recruits...she’d sing the song just loudly enough that we boys could hear it through our window.”

He absently played with the crudely carved circular charm on the cord around his neck in one hand.

“And although there were those who still enlisted afterwards...many others did not.”

Carewyn’s eyes widened.

“‘While we’re seeing our side,’ ” she sang again, more softly, “‘maybe we forgot...they are not alone. No one is alone.’ ”

Orion’s lips spread into a smile as he looked at Carewyn, his black eyes rippling gently as he nodded.

“So it’s against the War, then,” murmured Charlie. He glanced at his parents, who both looked concerned.

“Did that woman with the flower shop give you that?” asked Ginny curiously, indicating the charm around Orion’s neck.

“Yes,” said Orion. “She gave it to me one night when I tried to run away, to soothe my nerves. Its effects wore off by the next morning, but I’ve never really had the heart to throw it out.”

Percy sputtered, looking very pale. “Th-then she was a witch?”

“Whoa,” said Fred and George, looking almost too eager.

“Did she turn all the army into pigs?” asked George.

“Did she lure you in and try to cook you in a soup?” said Fred.

Orion smiled indulgently. “Of course not -- ”

“Well, thank Heavens for that!” said Molly, shooting the twins a very reproachful look. “Magic isn’t something to make fun of, you two -- it’s frankly a wonder you weren’t hurt, dear...”

Orion frowned. “There was no danger, Madam Weasley, I assure you.”

“No danger! Orion,” Molly scolded him indulgently, “I applaud your courage...but nature has its own way of things, and any magic that twists it out of shape is more dangerous than it’s worth.”

To the Weasley family’s surprise, Carewyn actually spoke up.

“Mrs. Weasley, men tend fields, plant seeds, domesticate horses and dogs...treat illnesses and injuries...cut hair and wear makeup and put on heeled shoes to make ourselves appear taller. Would that not also be twisting nature’s intent?”

Molly actually faltered somewhat. “Well, yes, but...that’s very different from magic, Carewyn! Magic is...well, it’s wild. Uncontrollable.”

“It’s untamed chaos,” said Arthur more levelly than his wife. “A kind that’s done a lot more harm than good.”

“But it still can be used for good,” said Carewyn very firmly. “And if it has that potential, why must we treat it as though it and all of its users are inherently reprehensible? If magic can be used to save lives, or heal the sick, or even just calm a scared boy down after something horrible...”

She glanced at Orion out the side of her eye.

“...Then it seems to be like any other weapon or tool, or even any other person -- something that could protect or hurt.”

Orion felt like his heart was being flooded with warmth, and his entire expression melted with pride and something like affection as he stared at Carewyn.

She truly is a woman to be admired. The memory of Skye’s irritation and McNully’s warning rippled over Orion’s mind and he found himself faltering. Admire...yes. Anyone could grow to admire such a woman, couldn’t they? To respect and esteem her...to...grow an attachment, to her... Even I? Could I...?

The Weasleys exchanged uncertain looks amongst themselves.

“Come to think of it,” said Ron thoughtfully, “wasn’t there that old myth about fairy godmothers who grant you wishes?”

Fred brought an arm roughly around his younger brother’s neck and put him in a rough choke hold. “Aww, ickle Ronnie wanting a pwetty new dress?”

“‘Oh fairy godmother, I just gotta have a new dress for the Winter Festival!’” said George in a high-pitched squeal.

“Geroff!” growled Ron, as he pulled free.

“Oh, but that would be fun!” sighed Ginny. “Dancing at the Winter Festival, in the prettiest dress you’ve ever seen...you’re going to the Festival, aren’t you, Carewyn?”

“Probably not, Ginny,” said Carewyn gently, “I’ve got so much work to do...”

“Oh, but you have to!” whined Ginny. “The Festival’s tradition! Right, Orion?”

“So I’ve heard,” Orion said modestly, “but I’m afraid I’ve never attended a Winter Festival either.”

“What?!” said all of the Weasley children except Bill in thoroughly aghast unison.

“It’s the biggest celebration of the entire year -- ”

“Everybody in town will be there -- ”

“ -- well, aside from the noble tarts -- ”

“ -- but hey, who needs them?”

“Everybody makes the best mince pies and hot apple cider -- ”

“There’s dancing and singing and games and gift-giving -- ”

“You just can’t miss it -- ”

Before long, they’d completely gotten off the topic of magic all together, so the Weasleys could tell Orion all about the Winter Festival. Carewyn took the opportunity to start carrying dishes into the kitchen so that she could help Molly clean up. While she did so, Bill pulled her aside.

“Carewyn...can I talk to you? Alone?”

Carewyn blinked, but nonetheless put down the dishes she was carrying and followed Bill off into a secluded corner.

“What’s wrong?” she asked in concern.

Bill bit the inside of his lip, his brown eyes drifting over in the direction of the fireplace where the rest of his family was sitting with Orion.

“Carewyn,” he said slowly, “who is that man, really?”

Carewyn’s eyebrows knit together. Bill ran a hand over the undone collar of his tunic absently.

“He’s hiding something, I know it. And I’m sure you see it too. He dodges questions he doesn’t want to answer, and as much as he’s even told us tonight about himself, he never gives important details. He lived near the border, but he didn’t mention what town he’s from. He lived in a workhouse, presumably after losing his parents, but he never said what he lost them to.”

“Those things might not be easy for him to talk about, Bill,” Carewyn said softly.

“Yes,” said Bill in a bracing voice, “but he also hopped the walls of the palace, completely ignorant of how tight royal security is and why, has enough time to chase after you most every day, and gets paints from people he can’t identify and learns songs from people who, from the sound of things, practice witchcraft.”

Bill crossed his arms. He clearly was trying to be considerate to Carewyn’s feelings, but couldn’t hold back his concerns.

“Look, I...I understand you like the man. And I understand why -- Ginny and the others seem to have taken to him pretty well, too. But there’s no reason for someone to hold back that many secrets, unless they’re up to no good. He could be a cad, or a criminal, or maybe even something worse. Judging by his stance on magic, he could even be a magician himself...”

His brown eyes narrowed slightly upon Carewyn’s face.

“I’m just...worried about you, that’s all,” he said lowly.

Carewyn considered Bill for a long moment. Then, reaching out a hand, she gently took hold of Bill’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“Bill...I understand how you feel. And I’m grateful, truly grateful, for your caring. I hardly deserve it, and it...it means a lot to me.”

Bill frowned deeply, ready to say something, but Carewyn cut him off.

“But believe me when I say that people don’t just keep secrets because they mean to do harm. Sometimes -- for some people -- they’ve had to learn to hide themselves and shield their hearts...so much so that even when they encounter good people, it’s hard for them to let their guard down. Sometimes they’ve known so much pain that, even though they’re kind people, they’ve numbed themselves to a degree, just to protect themselves. Lied so much...that it becomes second-nature. Or worse, lie because they don’t know who they can really trust...because so many people have hurt them that they don’t know what trust even feels like anymore.”

Bill’s expression lost some of its edge, though it still looked wary.

“...And if he is a magic user?”

“Then he’s one of the good ones,” said Carewyn firmly.

Bill still looked a bit unsure. Carewyn squeezed his shoulder a bit more tightly, her eyes resting there instead of on his face.

“Bill, my brother is only alive, thanks to magic.”

Bill was startled.

“The Plague swept through our whole house,” said Carewyn lowly. “First the landlord and his family -- then my mother...and then Jacob. We were living hand-to-mouth, and I didn’t have anyone else to go to...so I went to the Cromwell estate.”

Bill’s brown eyes became a little smaller, darkening with grim understanding.

“...You went to your grandfather.”

Carewyn nodded. “He disowned Mum long ago, but he was still our family, so I thought he might be willing to help us. He agreed to take Jacob and me in and nurse Jacob back to health, so long as we paid back his generosity. Grandfather then tracked down a witch who could cast a spell to save Jacob’s life.”

Bill’s eyebrows furrowed. “Lord Cromwell hired a -- ?”

“Do not repeat this, Bill!” Carewyn said very sharply and urgently. “To anyone, do you understand? No one.”

Her eyes then softened visibly, becoming grimmer and sadder.

“Jacob was dying. There was no other option.”

Bill looked like he was in pain, just hearing this second-hand. He swallowed, and then gave a nod.

“So that witch saved your brother’s life,” he said quietly.

Carewyn nodded, her eyes full of emotion despite the stoicism of her features.

“The spell she cast bound Jacob’s life to Grandfather’s will. Jacob was brought into the house on a stretcher just after dawn, and within a half-hour...he was up on his own two feet again.”

Carewyn closed her eyes. She could still remember Jacob’s blazing, relieved smile as he barreled down the stairs and threw his arms around her, cradling her like a baby.

“My Wyn -- my sweet Wyn -- ”

Not long after that, though...Jacob’s arms were yanked away -- all of him was yanked away -- held back by Blaise and Claire and Pearl’s husbands, who all had work to together just to restrain Jacob as he fought to reach her, screaming and raging like a mad man --

“WYN! NO! GET OFF OF ME -- WYN! I WON’T LET YOU -- CAREWYN!”

Carewyn opened her eyes, the soft longing fading from her face completely and leaving a much more stony expression behind.

Bill himself, however, looked more troubled than ever.

“You said your brother left for War the same day you and he arrived at the Cromwell estate,” he whispered shakily. “Do you mean that, right after saving your brother’s life...Lord Cromwell immediately sent him off to War -- all while knowing how few men return home alive?”

Carewyn’s lips came together tightly.

“Grandfather sent him to the front, so that Jacob could start paying back the debt I owed him,” she said, her voice very soft and oddly distant. “After all...a man who wouldn’t die, so long as he willed it...would make an excellent soldier.”

Bill looked horrified.

“Then...” he whispered, “...then Jacob’s only alive because your grandfather decides whether he lives or dies? You only know your brother’s still alive after so many years at war...because Lord Cromwell is bound to him through magic, and he’s holding his life over your head?”

Carewyn withdrew her hand from Bill’s shoulder and turned away.

“Carewyn...that’s monstrous!” said Bill, and he was unable to keep his voice from rising. “I didn’t even know magic could do something like that -- but -- but that’s nothing, compared to...”

He couldn’t restrain himself. He actually threw an arm around Carewyn and pulled her into a hug from behind. The small ginger-haired woman stiffened like a startled cat.

“Bill?”

Carewyn looked up at him -- were those tears, in his eyes?

“Have you...never told anyone else, about this?” Bill murmured.

Carewyn tried to turn around, her blue eyes welling up with regret and pain. “Bill...”

She brought a hand through his hair, trying to soothe him the way she used to for Jacob.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I -- I didn’t mean to upset you -- I only wanted to explain why I’m not scared of magic...please forgive me.”

Bill closed his eyes to try to hold back both his righteous anger and his tears.

“Forgive you?” he repeated in a choked voice. “For what, trusting me with the truth?”

“For making you worry unnecessarily,” Carewyn said forcefully, trying to ignore how uncomfortably her stomach was squirming.

Bill opened his eyes, looking both flabbergasted and more upset than ever. “Unnecessarily?”

He roughly grabbed both of Carewyn’s shoulders and forced her to look up at him.

“Now you listen here, Carewyn Cromwell,” he said, taking on the sort of tone he only ever used with his younger siblings when they were being rowdy, “you may get to decide if you want to interact with me or not, or rely on me or not, or accept my help or not. But you don’t get to decide whether I worry about you or not. And from here on out...”

Bill’s brown eyes were blazing with resolve.

“...I’m going to worry about you. Because I hate the thought of someone feeling like anybody else worrying about them is somehow a problem.”

Carewyn was left speechless.

Bill’s face broke into a broad smile through his tears. “Until your brother’s back from the War, Carey, I’ll be looking after you for him -- no arguments, no dismissals, no saying you’re fine on your own. Got it?”

Carewyn looked at Bill, perfectly stunned. Then her gaze fell away toward the floor.

“...It sounds like...I really don’t get a choice in the matter, then,” she whispered.

“Nope,” said Bill, grinning broadly.

Carewyn was unable to fight back the weak smile prickling at the sides of her lips, nor the emotion flooding her eyes, even as she kept her face turned away.

“...And I suppose ‘Carey’...is a suggestion of a nickname you plan to give Charlie, for me?”

Bill’s eyes sparkled fondly. “Well, every one of my siblings has a nickname, in case you haven’t noticed.”

[xxrainstormxx]

Birthday Gift. Spencer Reid x Reader (Smut)

(A/N: So I've found out Spencer content gets the most attention and hes my favorite so there is no problem here. And no one is making requests. So I'm doing my best. Maybe I should stick to Spencer XD. Anyway. 10 year age gap. Hope you don't mind. Anyway it’s Spencer’s 30th birthday. in this story. Send in some requests!) Word count: 3,000

Spencer was watching (Y/N), they were drinking with Emily and laughing at stupid things. He had been in love with (Y/N) for years. They were a writer who was now working at the BAU as an agent now. He had always found it endearing how they managed to keep writing books while also doing their work as an agent. 'How is someone so stunning, smart, and funny at the same time?' He thought to himself. (Y/N) giggled and walked over sitting in front of him "Earth to Spencer Reid~" They teased as they waved their hand in front of his face. He blushed realizing he'd been staring, and the loud music rushed back into his ears as he was sucked from his thoughts back to reality. The bar, it was a club but he was now 30 and didn't want to admit that, was loud and the music was the absolute worst thing he'd heard. "You good wonder boy?" they asked smiling slightly worried. "Oh yeah!" he called loudly, the music nearly drowning out his gruff voice. They just giggled and nodded "Not my setting" he finished his statement with a chuckle. "Would never have guess" They grinned tauntingly. The playful leer was enough to make his heart melt. Romance was never Spencer's strong point, but for (Y/N), he made a special exception. There were just ways they made him feel human, he didn't like to admit how the others treated him like some alien. "You seem like the introverted type" They smiled "Skipping, what... basically ten years of school does that." they hummed. "did you know that school is actually designed for extroverts along with basically being outdated in the sense of its teaching you how to work for a factory?" he hummed happily "Spence, wonderboy, baaaaaaaby!" they called with a giggle "I love ya facts normally, but I am just a little to drunk to really process what you are saying!" The 24 year old giggled. "Its your birthday, and I respect ya! I do, but everyone is drinking way too much" They giggled. 

"Right. That's the reason you don't wanna listen" He laughed softly. He didn't mind usually being told to stop spewing facts as long as it was (Y/N) telling him. It was a specially thing they had where it wasn't disrespectful or out of annoyance. It was because they genuinely appreciated what he said and just wanted to understand it better. So he had no reason to not listen to them, their relationship was really a wonderful thing and he cherished it. "You know i love you and your facts!" they squealed leaning on him. "Oh I know" he laughed gently kissing their forehead softly, the mostly platonic kiss was always a thing between them. The team always thought of it like a quote "father, child" thing but that just hurt his feelings. The thought that he really never had a chance because he was "too old" for the only person that really understood him. Age gaps were always controversial especially since they saw the grossest of age gaps between an adult and literal children. It made zero sense in his mind as to why they didn't like it, there were much worse things it could be an he certainly wasn't old enough to be her dad. Maybe it was his own fucked up justification for the way he felt but (Y/N) certainly didn't look like a child nor act like one. They had a mature figure, one that if they bent over at just the right angle over a desk, or pouring over a file, or even interrogating he felt he would just about die. They dressed in a very professional way despite their young age just as he had at the same age. They took themselves seriously but also knew when to call it quits or make fun of themselves. They were a perfect blend of human. He stared at their lips, wondering how soft they really were, and questioning why they used a chapstick that gave off such a strong scent that reminded him of sugar, and he wondered if it had a taste, like cherry, or plum. He wondered if he could make their voice crack as he drew circles on their body with his fingers only to touch what really mattered. He wondered if he could make their perfect mouth cry out his name in pure ecstasy how sweet they would feel clenched around his- "-SPENCER!" they squealed laughing "you've been staring into space for at least 7 fuckin minutes" they snorted tapping his nose softly making him blush. "You okay Dr." they asked affectionately. "y-Yeah course I am" he whispered, it wasn't exactly good for their location but they seemed to understand, but he wasn't okay. He was hard, and uncomfortable. He was thankful that the bar could hide it well enough, because the jeans he wore for the sake of his party weren't doing any favors to hide his friend. "You sure? You seem a little uncomfortable" they commented leaning towards him. 

He could practically feel their shaky drunk breath on his neck and god that didn't help. Their body was stunning in the outfit they had chosen, a simple black top with waist high black skinny jeans and dark green and blue painted combat boots. their body retained its beautiful shape clothes taking the shape of them. They way they stared at him brought back all the thought, making him wonder what their hair would look like as he splayed them out on his bed making them bounce and beg for more and more of him. The doctor was seen as no innocent the idea of him having these thoughts was only a fake concept to them. "Just fine. Bar seats aren't the best to sit on" he laughed softly "Then lets dance!" (Y/N) grinned grabbing his hand pulling him out of seat. The music had changed thanks to Emily practically begging to slow dance with the date she had brought. The idea of being so close thrilled Spencer normally but his current situation made it actually impossible to comprehend and made the anxiety of the situation overwhelming. They giggled "I-I'm really not in the mood to dance." he squeaked out "it'll be fun- come o- OH!" they squeaked after pushing close to him to dance they realized just why he was so flustered and uncomfortable. What caught him by surprise, was they didn't pull away. "S-sorry- I tried to be subtle, b-but y-you.... you uh..." he sighed "I just.... need the uh... space to get rid of it.... and if you want to we c-can dance after" He muttered flustered, but (Y/N) didn't move. "(Y/N), are you okay? Y-you haven't moved." he squeaked again as they pushed as closed "Act natural. You don't want the rest of the team knowing do you. If you walk away suddenly they'll know" they said softly swaying with him to the music. He shivered wiggling "you c-can't... shift like that." he gasped quietly "it's..." he mewled quietly turning red. They could have left they didn't have to be so close, they didn't have to touch him, wait, they were touching him, like, hand in the pants, touching! "Bathroom" they whispered in his ear before leaving him literally wanting. He followed after a few moments of shock. This was all very new, he'd only ever masturbated but now he was going to straight to sex in public. Holy shit. He walked in confused hearing the door behind him and lock. He turned only to be pushed against the outside of the stall. "I checked, no one is in here" (Y/N) said quietly getting onto their knees. "w-wh-why?" he yelped quietly "What do you mean?" they asked working his belt glancing up to him. "Why a-are you do-doing this for me?" he stuttered "I want to? duh." they giggled and kissed the top of his pelvis. "N-no, why...?" he panted nearly throwing his head back in anticipation. "Do I need to spell out the fact that I like you?" they purred tugging down his pants "I... I like you too." he whispered pulling them to their feet. "What are you-" they squeaked before Spencer pulled them close into a kiss. Both of them had wanted this for way too long, and so the sweet innocent kiss quickly escalated into a tangled mess of limbs, grabbing, and panting. "Lets go to my apartment, I don't want to do this here." he whispered "I've pictured you too many times to not do this right." he growled kissing down their neck as they mewled "Got it. Thi-think the others will noticed?" (Y/N) questioned before gasping as they were grabbed and slowly rubbed "Do you want to really think about them now?" he whispered nipping their ear softly "god no. I'll meet you there" they whispered pulling back and left to quickly go. Spencer swiftly heeded telling all his friends he was tired. Thankfully they hadn't connected his need to leave to (Y/N)'s and he was gone. 

(Y/N)'s P.o.V

I somehow arrived after Spencer, probably because he didn't have alcohol in his system. I wasn't exactly drunk, just buzzed, but I needed to be careful still. Getting pulled over was no ideal. I made my way up to his floor quickly, Spencer liked me, he liked me and that was enough for me. He had even kissed me, age gap... no age gap, agent, not an agent, I loved him. And I had been since we properly became friends. I personally didn't believe in love at first sight but god I know about attraction and want. I knew what I wanted, and that was Spencer Reid, I'd take him however I could. I came up behind the man himself kissing his shoulder as he struggled with his key. I reached around grabbing him and stroking him slowly. "Hurry up wonder boy." I blew against his ear causing him to grunt "You aren't helping" he groaned bucking up into my hand. "Are you a top or a bottom?" I teased as he struggled more, "I can imagine you on the bed, panting and moaning as I ride your cock." I ran my finger up his shaft slowly causing him to moan "You begging for more. Crying out my name. I bet you couldn't be a top if you wanted" I snapped teasingly. The door flew open and he pulled me in, pinning me against the wall causing a breathy moan to slip through my slightly dry lips. He slammed the door lifting my leg grinding against me. "Are you always such a brat when you're horny?" He moaned softly sucking softly on a spot on my jaw. "And what if I am?" I mewled, before crying out as he slammed against the wall bucking against me teasingly. The clothes being in the way pissed me off slightly. A small string of curses left his mouth "It's fucking hot." He muttered. It was a little shocking to hear to Spencer curse but it was enough to make me shut the fuck up for a second. "God fuck me" I gasped rolling my hips against his needily "you know. You were the only person who didn't get me a birthday present" he hummed softly "M-maybe b-because I planned on something like this" I muttered. It was the truth, I planned on confessing and had a backup present in my car. I knew full well that I wanted to do this tonight, I even put a condom in my pocket. "Wow. Such a naughty whore." I mewled at the sentence, something about Spencer saying that was enough to nearly kill me there. I groaned in pleasure pushing down on his dick. "I want you. I want you so bad!" I dragged my nails down his chest panting already. He groaned picking me up, I used the opportunity to kick my shoes off and he walked us to his room as I worked on throwing off my shirt. He attacked my chest with love bites and kisses as he pinned me to the bed giving me a chance to work at his shirt and belt. "shit" he whispered biting his lip "you look just as good as I imagined you would." he moaned rolling his hips against me once again. The clothes were really on my nerves "off" I hissed, tugging at my own pants "now! please god!" I moaned, I rolled my hips up gasping. "Why should I?" he whispered chuckling. He was so fucking hot like this. His gruff voice just kept making me shiver and I whined "Because I need you too." I moaned legs finally free of my stupid tight pants. Beauty is pain, he sighed "Such a brat" he growled and pulled himself out of his pants making me drool at the sight "I shouldn't-" he began making me whine "-but you're too much to resist" He muttered kissing me. 

I kissed back after a moment of not expecting it, his tongue making its way into my own. Spencer was an absolute god when it came to kissing, as his tongue made it's rounds around my mouth I mewled when it brushed the roof of it. I was so distracted by the kiss I hadn't noticed that he aligned with my entrance until he suddenly shoved into me. I didn't even know he put on the condom but I felt it, mostly him though. I gasped rolling my hips up nearly biting his tongue. He moaned panting "Fuck you're hot" He groaned "tight" he panted softly slowly beginning to thrust into me. I moaned loudly the suddenness of it making my head spin with pleasure "S-Spence!" I moaned as he pushed in and out of me at a slow and steady pace. I melted under him grabbing at his back, his shirt hadn't even come off yet. I wanted it off though. "Off. Sp-Spencer! Please take the shirt off." He moaned, absolute music to my ears, rocking against me taking off his shirt quickly "Such. A. Fucking. Brat" he hissed slamming into me with every word. I cried out eyes rolling back. The sounds of our moans and the slapping of skin filled the otherwise empty room. "Oh fuck!" I cried out running my hands down his chest admiring him lovingly. He may have been skinny but that didn't mean he wasn't built well. His hair fell and framed his face he looked like an actual god. "You're so fucking hot" he groaned and I arched my back with a high cry. "I-I'm- oh god- I'm cumming!" I covered my mouth. "Not. Yet." he groaned pulling out of me as I whined. "N-not fair!" I moaned "Sometimes brats need to be taught a lesson" He growled pulling me off the bed onto the floor. "Open your mouth" he said grabbing my face. I panted and opened my mouth wide. I gasped loudly as he pushed his cock into my mouth. I moaned loudly knowing what he wanted before I was even told. I bobbed my head quickly moaning at every movement and sound he made. "Baby~" he mewled as I ran my tongue up his shaft pulling off for a second to breathe before licking the tip. I pushed forward and started sucking on him again. He groaned in pleasure grabbing my hair. "Good girl. Learning not be a damn brat." He moaned teasingly, I wanted this for so long and the fact it was happening made my head spin, and my eyes roll back. After a long while he pushed me up and grabbed me shoving into me not even bothering to put me on the bed. I nearly collapsed my legs nearly giving out. So he picked me up shoving me against the wall. "Shit baby~ You're so good for me now." He gasped out "You can cum for me baby" he whispered in my ear kissing me again. I cried out loudly wiggling, against him. I bounced quickly against him, cumming and basically spilling out onto him moaning loudly. I pulled back throwing my head back as he continued to thrust into me way too hard. It drove me absolutely crazy. I moaned his name a few more times "I... I can't.. Oh god" I gasped feeling him fill me entirely with his cum. He collapsed back onto the bed with me still in his arms resting on his chest. "Damn..." he whispered against my neck. I only yawned in response, not able to speak. "I... I love you. Not just like." he whispered. "I know it's not the time, but I don't want this to be a one night stand. Or a friends with benefits thing. I want you. I want to be yours. We don't have to talk about this right now. We can talk tomorrow" He whispered earning a tired yawn from me. I gasped softly as he pulled out leaving me feeling empty. And to sleep we went. 

3rd person P.o.V

The next morning (Y/N) had woke up sore and alone. It was strange to them but they smiled as Spencer walked into the room. "Hi." he whispered handing them some pain medicine. "Did you sleep well?" He asked them petting their head and brushing the hair out of their eyes. "hi... I slept great" they mumbled taking it with a hum. "Good. Do you uh, need a shower?" he asked gently "and your clothes are in the dryer." he mumbled shyly. It was a funny thing, how dominate and rough he was, but now soft and shy as usual. It made them smile "I... I really care for you." he whispered "And I want you to be comfortable." He whispered. "I love you too Spencer." I giggled quietly "A shower would be lovely." they laughed a little. Spencer grinned happily "Best birthday present ever"