#( all my kids love a woman covered in the blood of their enemies )

[dancingtotuyo]

Before | 1. the mountains are screaming

A Woman Story

Rating: Mature

Series Summary: Five peeks into your past before Joel Miller reentered you life

Summary: you’re alone and in need of supplies but a trip down the mountain brings you much more.

Tags: The Last of Us, set in the Woman universe, love, loss, loneliness, backstory, slight enemies to lovers vibes.

Warnings: talk of loss and grief (spouse,brother& kids), violence, blood, fight, guns

Notes: those drabbles I referenced, yeah they turned into a mini series within the Woman series! 3 chapters to be posted before we delve back into the main story with 2 more to follow on alternating weeks!

Shoutout to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for taking a look at this! I adore you my dear 💚

Words: 3632

Series Masterlist | Woman Masterlist | Author Masterlist

You’ve put it off long enough, but you’re low on supplies, and the homes within comfortable walking distance are long-picked over. You know going into Jackson is your best bet, but it’s a full day’s walk just to get there, and you haven’t been there in years. You don’t know if it will be abandoned still, crawling with infected, or crawling with people. It’s risky leaving the house unattended for so long, but you haven’t seen another human being in almost 2 years. In theory, no one should be here when you get back.

You have to go, and you have to go tomorrow. Winter will be upon you before too long. You figure you’ll need to make a couple of trips to get you through the winter.

You set out as soon as it’s light out. The trip there is easiest, going downhill with your pack light. You can’t even consider the trek back.

Alone, the town feels more unnerving. A few windows are broken here and there, doors rotted out in places, but relatively untouched. Dust collects in inches. You’re shocked by how much is left intact, like the town has been preserved by fate. You stuff your bag with canned foods, carefully inspecting each one before moving to the first aid supplies.

Your pack is full when you hear it, a collection of voices. A strong command echoes to spread out and clear the buildings. Your heart drops to your stomach. You should’ve come a day earlier. Procrastination has come to collect its dues just like it did in college, except this isn’t your GPA. It’s your fucking life.

You glance out the window. Several people with rifles flank the street, five in your sights, but you hear more. So many more. A couple of horses whinny. You slink behind a shelf, pressing your back against it. You have minutes, seconds maybe before they find you. There are too many to shoot your way out. You have to find a way to slip out undetected.

You scan the store, spotting the back entrance. Maybe they won’t be out back. There’s a thicket of trees around the north edge of the city. If you can make it there without them spotting you, maybe you can hide out until it’s dark enough to travel to the mountain tree line. It’s a long shot, but you’re a sitting duck here.

You move quickly, careful to stay out of sight. Your boots are heavy on the floor. The voices grow in number and volume. Your hand touches the cool door knob. You take a moment to steady yourself. There’s no time for nerves or doubts. You crack the door open. The alley is clear.

It’s open on both ends, doing nothing to ease your nerves, but the bright fall colors from the thicket call your name. Sticking close to the wall, you make sure to keep any noise to a minimum. Your heart races with each new voice.

You’re almost to the end of the alleyway. The trees are 50 yards away, a couple of houses to keep you covered as you move toward them. You can do this. Then the crunch of gravel bounces off the walls of the alley. You glance behind you. Your eyes connect with brown ones. Time stands still like a deer in a hunter’s crosshairs just before he pulls the trigger. You might look just as wild. Before he can alert anyone, the adrenaline hits. You take off toward the trees, all sense of stealth gone.

He yells and then starts after you, but you can’t spare the time to look behind you. You can’t outrun him, but if you can make it to the trees first, maybe you can find a place to hide before they catch up.

There are more shouts, more footsteps. A shotgun fires just as you cross into the cover of the trees. There aren’t a lot of options, but you’re in better shape than you were 30 seconds ago. Fall leaves crunch underfoot. You can’t run forever. You’ll reach the end of the thicket soon enough.

A dog barks. Your brain barely comprehends it. Horses, dogs, what's next? House cats? Out in the open, they’re sure to catch you. There are more houses if you turn west. Maybe you can hide until dark. The footsteps are getting closer no matter how fast you run. Maybe you should just accept the odds are not in your favor. You’re hopelessly outnumbered and outpowered, but you won’t do that. You haven’t come this far to give up now.

A body collides with your back, knocking the wind from you before you tumble to the ground. You use the momentum to roll, hoping to shake the body, but his grip is too strong. You refuse to hold still, finding his thumb and pulling it back. He cries out in pain. Your nails dig into his cheek, leaving a nasty trail of scratches down his face. It’s enough to push out of his hold.

You slip on the leaves as you attempt to get up. He grabs your ankle with his unharmed hand, pulling you back down. You manage just enough coordination to land a kick to his groin and a solid punch to his right eye. Your knuckles ache immediately, but it works until two sets of hands clamp down on your arms. You try to pull away, but they push you to your knees.

Another person helps your attacker to his feet. You catch a flash of red on his cheek, presumably from the scratches you left down his cheek. It’s little comfort when the barrel of a rifle lands at your back.

This is it. This is where you die.

“You okay, Gabe?” A woman’s calls.

“Been better.” He’s panting. Good. “Think the thumb’s broken, but I’ll be fine.”

Boots crunch on the leaves, drawing closer until the toes of them stand at the edge of your vision. Silence falls, your own quiet panting the only thing you can hear. You wonder if you look as wild as you feel. Maybe they’ll just shoot you now, give you no chance to plead or bargain. That would be more humane.

“What are you doing here?” The woman asks.

You still haven’t looked up, haven’t looked at her face. Survival says you should. Maybe they’ll be less cruel if you look into their eyes. You don’t respond.

“We got her backpack.” A random voice calls. You don’t remember dropping it, but the last couple of minutes are a blur. He comes up beside the woman. She digs through your newly acquired possessions.

“Not much here,” She says. “Your group must be nearby. How many are there?”

Dry laughter forces its way out of you. You suppose you could lie. Maybe they’d spare you, but they’d find out soon enough. There’s no need to draw this out.

“You think this is funny?”

“There is no one else.” You roll your head up, looking her in the eye for the first time.

She straightens, leaning back just a little as she contemplates your words. She’s not what you’re expecting. She wears a stern expression, but her eyes seem almost kind, like an old friend with a cup of warm tea. “I’m just supposed to believe that?”

“Why would I lie about that? I’m dead anyway.”

“Are you?”

“I’m the one with a rifle at my back right now.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Precautions.”

“What do you want from me?”

“The truth.”

“It is the truth. I’m the last one left.” The woman seems to believe you this time, an air of surprise passing through her eyes.

She looks at the men keeping you contained. “Let her go.”

“Maria,” One raises a sound of protest, but she cuts him off with a single glare.

The rifle lowers. The grip on both your arms disappears as you scurry to your feet. The woman looks between you and your bag before handing it back. “There a lot of traffic through these parts?”

“I think the stores speak for themselves,” You say. She tilts her head to the side. You won’t lie, it is effective. “I haven’t seen another human being in 2 years, but I don’t stay here.”

“Infected?”

“Had a small pod come through a couple years ago. Haven’t seen anything but strays of late.”

She seems content with your answer.

“Am I free to go?” You sling your pack over your shoulder.

“You’re gonna need more than just that to survive.”

“What makes you think I don’t have what I need.”

Once again, she cuts through your bullshit. Is this woman a mind reader or something? Or maybe it’s been the lack of human contact. No, this woman has the stare mothers develop to pry the truth from their children. It’s just as effective on adults.

“We’re gonna stay here, at least for a while. You’re welcome to join us.”

The offer catches you off guard. You’re not sure what to think. If they wanted to kill you, they would have already, unless they’re really that sick and twisted. You look around at the other faces around you. Four men including the one you hit. There’s already swelling around his eye, the scratches are bright red with drying blood. Two women, but you know there’s more. You can hear them now, clearing the buildings through Jackson.

“And if I say no, Maria?” You square up with their leader, a faint smirk graces your face. There’s a certain power in knowing her name when she doesn’t know yours.

“Then I’ll have Gabe escort you back with plenty of provisions to get you through the winter.” She points to the man who caught you.

“You’re gonna send the man with a broken thumb and bad eye? Must not like him very much.”

“Kinda been getting on my nerves lately,” Maria cracks a grin, but you don’t return it.

Gabe scoffs. “I’m the comedic relief. Can’t kill me off.”

Your face stays flat, unimpressed. “I don’t need an escort, and he clearly isn’t in any shape to be going anywhere.”

“I said you could go. I never said I trusted you.”

“I can fix him up before I go.” You nod to the man. “I used to be a trauma nurse.”

Maria tilts her head to the side. “Good. He’ll be in better condition when he takes you home tomorrow.”

You don’t know why, but the word home makes you cringe. You don’t have one of those anymore.

You set up outside of the old clinic after scouring for supplies to clean the scratches and a splint. It seems like FEDRA cleaned out a lot of the medical supplies when they evacuated, but you manage.

Gabe watches you carefully, still wearing a smile. “I don’t see how you can sit there grinning with that black eye.”

“Badge of honor.” He says, eyes glued to you. “Do you ever smile?”

“No.” You say, taking a hold of his hand. Gabe starts to ramble on about something you tune out as you focus on the anatomy of his hand. There’s something about using your old trade that sets a thrill through you, only briefly. Without warning, you snap it back into place. He screams out in pain. You look up at him, a brief smirk playing on your face. “Lucky for you, it’s not actually broken.”

“You’re better than I thought, Doc.”

“Nurse,” You say, splinting his thumb. “You should wear this for the next 4 weeks. Longer if there’s still pain.”

“Or you could stay and oversee his recovery,” Maria says, walking up. “We could use someone with your skills.”

You finish wrapping the splint before turning to face her. “I’m good. He’ll be fine.”

“It would be nice to have you around-”

“I said no.”

She sighs, crossing her arms. “Okay, but it’s an open offer if you change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

Maria shifts, sliding her hands into her pockets. “House around the corner at the end of the street. We cleared it. It’s dusty, probably rat-infested, but in decent shape. You can stay there tonight.”

You nod. “Thanks.”

You sit on the porch steps of an abandoned house. A faded red X paints the door behind you and an orange campfire flickers in your eyes. There are about 30 of them in total. A majority of them circle around the fire about 50 feet away. You catch the hums of multiple conversations, but no substance. A few children run around, catching fireflies, but it's the laughter that strikes that deep sense of want within you. Your chest aches with the grief of what you’ve lost since the outbreak, forced into survival mode. When was the last time you laughed? Or smiled? There’s been no occasion to. There’s been no desire to.

Tears blur the edges of your vision. Memories flash before your eyes of the good times, your brothers, your parents, grandparents, friends, that last summer with Sarah. Your heart clenches. You have no idea what happened to them. You can only assume they’re gone. Hoping doesn’t do you any good, and the odds have never been in your favor.

“You could come join us, you know,” Gabe says, walking up to you. He stands at the bottom of the stairs, a smile plastered on his swollen face.

You quickly wipe the excess moisture from your eyes. “I’m fine.” It’s emotionless, passive.

“You gonna sulk all night? I’m the one with a busted face.”

“I’m sorry some of us don’t feel like celebrating.” You roll your eyes, wiping your nose on your sleeve as you look back at the door to the house you’ll be spending the night in. Can’t you just be left alone? You have to spend the whole day with him tomorrow.

“You’re like one of the Eight Dwarfs,” he says.

“Pretty sure there were seven.” You bristle, standing up.

“Doleful, the eighth dwarf that never was. That’s you.”

“Doleful, really?” You say, rolling your eyes. Your annoyance with him is growing exponentially. What is his deal?

“Yeah, I haven’t seen you so much as crack a smile. Always so serious.” He furrows his brow in an almost mocking manner as he steps into your space, wearing the same goofy grin. You want to slap it off his face.

“Do you always talk to women this way?” There must be smoke pouring from your ears at this point.

“Only ones who give me black eyes.”

“You were the one chasing me!”

“You were running. Maybe I just wanted to say hi.” He’s goading you, and the annoying part is he’s succeeding.

“You’re insufferable.”

“Then walk away, Doleful.”

That’s when it hits you. How close he’s standing. His eyes flutter over your face. You can feel the warmth of him seeping into you. How long has it been since you touched another human being? Today's events notwithstanding. It’s been even longer since you had someone look at you like that.

You swallow, letting yourself dwell in the feeling for just a second before setting your jaw and turning away. You catch the sound of him letting out a breath, the same one you were holding. Your hand hovers over the door knob. “Make sure you keep your hand elevated tonight.”

“Yeah… will do.”

You step inside before he can say anything more.

You’re flush against him on a horse the next day. He insists he’s fine to take the reins despite his broken thumb. Maria also insists, muttering something about not trusting you. Experience tells you you shouldn’t let them know where you live, but your gut trusts them not to harm you.

Gabe tries to joke and make conversation. You give him nothing but grunts and one-word responses. You stop about 30 minutes from your destination to eat lunch and let the horse rest. Your legs feel numb, not used to riding.

“You gonna ignore me the whole time, Doleful?”

“Talk to the horse.”

“He’d be better conversation.”

“What is your deal?” you ask, finally fed up.

“I’m just trying to lighten the mood.”

“What mood? There’s no mood to lighten!” You finally lose it. You haven’t had to deal with the yapping of another person for years and your tolerance is at an all-time low. Carter would be disappointed at how fast this man has gotten under your skin.

He tilts his head to the side, looking at you like he’s actually thinking. That would be a first. “People still need to experience joy and laughter.”

The laugh that leaves you is free of humor. It comes out under your breath, meaner than you intend, and he hears it. “You obviously didn’t have to lose anyone.”

He straightens immediately, face darkening. “No, I just chose to not let it consume me.”

He moves over to the horse, securing the saddlebags with more force than necessary. The tension and anger ripple off of him in droves. You bite your lip, guilt instantly falling over you.

“Gabe, I-“

He holds up a hand, cutting you off. “I think it’s best if we don’t talk the rest of the way.”

You supply a nod, but the guilt eats at you the closer you get. From what you can catch of Gabe’s profile, it’s set firmly in stone. You haven’t seen him without a smile yet. It hasn’t been long, but it doesn’t feel right. It feels like you swallowed someone’s joy, put out their light with your darkness.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper. His head twitches back just slightly, letting you know he heard. “That was cruel. Of course, you’ve lost people. You don’t make it this long without it.”

You feel him tense underneath your palms, but then he inhales deeply and relaxes. “My wife and two girls on outbreak day.”

You suck in deeply. “I’m an asshole.”

“I mean… yes.” A faint smile returns to his face and light to his eyes, and maybe, just maybe, your lips tug upward a little bit. “I know it’s a little much for some people. They don’t get it.”

You relax a little. “Try a lot.”

“If I came off as too strong, I’m sorry.”

You bite your lip. “It’s okay. I guess I’m a little rusty dealing with people.”

He waits for a second, letting the silence invade. You hear a woodpecker in the distance and the crunch of leaves underfoot. A squirrel scurries across your path, presumably preparing for the harsh winter ahead.

“How long have you been alone?”

“My brother died almost two years ago. We were the only ones left.”

Gabe nods in acknowledgment. He keeps the silence for the rest of your ride.

By the time the gate fades into view, you can tell Gabe is mostly back to his usual self, not quite as smiley or annoying, but close. Either that or you’re actually growing to like it- him.

He helps you bring the food inside. You catch the ways his eyes roam your space without being too invasive. “It’s a big place for one person.”

“It’s got a gate.”

“So does Jackson.”

You look at him. He raises an eyebrow. “Part of Jackson.”

“Has more people too.”

“And what makes you think I want to be around people?”

“This isn’t living, Doleful.”

For the first time, you don’t mind the nickname. It hints at a familiarity you don’t have, but you’re starting to wonder if you want it.

You cross your arms, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “And smiling means you are?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Attempting to.”

“So what? I’m just supposed to go back to Jackson with you? Join the group and wander?”

“I think our wandering days are over.”

“Oh?”

“Maria thinks we can settle in Jackson. You said it yourself, just a few stragglers..”

“I only know from up here, not down there.”

“Stores are hardly touched.”

You know he’s right. “Why do you want me to join so badly?”

“Well for starters, you fixed me up pretty good.” He holds up his braced hand. “Could be pretty useful to have around.”

“So I’m just useful.”

“I don’t think you want to be alone,” he says. You inhale softly. “And I would really like the chance to make you smile.”

You look away, emotions you long pushed down threatening to spring back up.

“I figure I have two hours before I need to head back. I’ll wait outside.”

Gabe leaves you in the kitchen. You walk through the house, contemplating his words. The offer he and Maria both made you. Do you leave this place? A safe haven of sorts. You stop in the great room, Carter’s blood stain brown and dried on the light carpet. You’ve tried so hard to pull it out, but everything seemed to make it worse.

Sun streams through the big, picture window. You walk over, soaking it in. A small moment of peace in a tumultuous world. Something in your heart tugs, something else releases.

Gabe sits out on the deck, staring at a creased, faded picture when you settle next to him. The breeze picks up, playing with the color of his shirt. “Is that them?”

Gabe nods.

“My brother bled out in there.” You point behind you. “I’m thinking a fresh start might not be so bad.”

Gabe smiles at you. “Is that so?”

You nod. “I don’t need long to put a bag together.”

“I’m glad you changed your mind. My face isn’t so sure though.”

You’re not sure what it is, but laughter breaks out of you, a smile cresting your lips. Gabe chuckles alongside you as your crow's feet crinkle.

“I knew it.”

“What?”

“That you would have the prettiest smile in the world.”

[gingiesworld]

Love is Fickle

Final Part

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst. Fluff. Tears. Death.

Taglist: @username23345 @fxckmiup @marvelogic @dark-hunter16 @moistblobfish

18+ MINORS DNI

It had been a couple of months since Y/N had been declared MIA and Steve had went to lead a search team. Wanda kept reading over the letters they had sent as Peggy remained inside Y/N's room. Only eating when Mrs Maximoff made her meals.

"He will bring them home Peggy." She reassured her friend/neighbour. "The both of them will be home safe."

"I don't know." She whispered as she looked up at the woman beside her. "I have this horrible feeling. I can't quite explain it but I can feel something terrible has happened." Mrs Maximoff just wrapped her arm around her as she cried. "I don't know what I'll do if I lost either of them."

The weeks wore on and still no word of the whereabouts of Y/N, not even a peep from Steve either.

"This is the last place we have to search before they are declared dead." Captain Rogers stated as the troops nodded.

"But what about their families. We're practically giving up." One spoke out as Steve sighed.

"I am the family of one of the missing troops. My kid is out there getting tortured or god knows what." He boomed. "But we all fight under the same flag, so that makes you guys their family too, and we will fight to bring our family home."

"Yes sir." They all answered in unison.

"Let's move out!" He boomed before he headed to his quarters to check his rifle. Hoping that this is the place they find Y/N. Looking at the picture of the three of them together on a family vacation before they started their senior year.

The troops travelled towards the enemy base, well if that is what you can call it. It was only a few huts surrounding a cave. Shots being fired as they infiltrated the base. Steve had one goal in mind and that was find and rescue Y/N. Not caring if he made it out alive himself.

When they made their way towards the cells, Steve's heart broke at the sight. He saw Y/N strung up with their wrists tied together. The tips of their toes barely scraping the concrete below them. The blood both dry and fresh covered their face and ruined uniform. Steve was fast to get his knife from his belt to cut them down with the help of another.

"They're still alive but barely." They informed Steve as he sighed in relief. There was time to save their kid.

"Let's get them home." He said as the troops got the remaining survivors and led them outside. "We need emergency evac." He spoke through the radio.

"5 minutes out to the rendevouz point." They replied as the troops fired their way through the base. Killing enemies in their way.

"I'm going to get you home Y/N." Steve muttered as he continued to power through. The survivors were placed on the chopper as the extraction team provided cover fire. Steve groaned when he felt a bullet rip through his back. Not thinking much of it as he watched Y/N get treated.

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

Days had passed since the rescue, the survivors were being flown home as was the bodies of the fallen. Peggy stood with Mrs Maximoff as they watched everyone get off the flight. Hoping to see both Y/N and Steve walk off arm in arm. When the troops had walked off, her heart dropped at the sight of Y/N being wheeled off the plane. Tubes and wires were attached to help them heal as a coffin followed moments later.

"I'm so sorry for your loss Mrs Rogers." One of the Lieutenants spoke as they handed Steve's medal of honour to her. She sobbed as she realised that she had lost the love of her life. She almost lost her child too.

"Come on." Mrs Maximoff pulled her with her. Following as Y/N was taken to the hospital on the base. "Y/N needs you."

Mrs Maximoff informed Wanda of Y/N's return and Captain Rogers death. She visited them a few times, her heart breaking as she watched the machines do the work for them. Hating not seeing their eyes gazing into her own.

As the weeks wore on, Peggy was trying her hardest to be strong for Y/N but was slowly falling apart. Until the moment Y/N woke up, she smiled as the tears fell from her face.

"My baby." She whispered as Y/N gave her a small smile.

"Where's dad?" They asked as she sighed, giving them a sad smile.

"He uh he led the extraction team to save you and your unit." She started nervously. "They found you after months of searching and he uh." She wiped her eyes. "He died. GSW to the back."

"No." Y/N shook their head as she ran her fingers through their matted long hair. "He can't be."

"I'm so sorry baby." She whispered as she hugged them.

"I'm so sorry mama." They cried. "It's my fault. He should have just left me there."

"He wouldn't have done that and you know it." Peggy told them as she cupped their face. "He was so proud of you and he just wanted you home safe. That was all he ever wanted." The two cried together as Y/N held onto her for dear life. "I love you so much baby."

Once the two had calmed down, Peggy went to get coffee as Wanda stood in the doorway. A gentle smile on her face as she watched Y/N look out of the window.

"Are you going to step in or stand there." Y/N stated emotionlessly.

"I missed you." Wanda told them as she sat beside them.

"Did you mean it?" They asked her as they finally looked at her. "When you said you love me. Did you mean it? I need you to mean it, because I only thought of the possibility of having a life with you. Marriage. Kids. Just the thought of you kept me going and I need you to mean it because I don't think I will survive if you didn't."

"I meant it then and I mean it now." Wanda told them. "I love you. I am in love with you Y/N. I mean it with my last breath." She caressed their face. "It's you and I forever."

"I love you so much Wanda. I always have." They whispered before Wanda kissed them with so much emotion. Everything she had wanted to tell them over time was poured into this one kiss. She was letting them know she will be by their side for the rest of their lives.

5 years later

Y/N stood nervously at the alter as Peggy smiled at them from her seat. Carol, one of their colleagues straightened out their suit with a reassuring smile.

"You will be fine." She told them as she fixed their tie. Y/N knew the moment they saw Wanda walk down the aisle that they were set for life. The love they felt for each other grew with each passing moment. The future set before them in the green irises of their love.

"Wanda, I have always known that it was always you and I until the very end. It just took you a little longer but I would wait lifetimes to be with you." Y/N smiled at her as they spoke. "I promise to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you can be. Give you the family you crave and the happy ending you have always wanted. I love you Wanda Maximoff."

"I'm sorry that I didn't realise sooner that you were always the one for me." She spoke softly. "Everyone else knew but myself. I ignored everyone thinking they were just teasing me because we're best friends, but they knew that we were always meant to be. They knew that sooner or later, our paths would intertwine and I couldn't be happier than I am right now. I love you so much Y/N and I promise to love you more with each passing moment." The two sealed the moment with a loving kiss. Feeling like the only two people in the world.

[lilmissnatcat24]

Electric Sheep Chapter Eight- The Electromenon Phenomenon!

Shepard and Garrus both have important meetings on Illium.

pairing: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian

rating: Explicit

tags: Lovers to enemies to lovers, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Minor Character Death, ,Violence, Blood and Gore, Torture, Disturbing Themes, Dual POV, Earthborn (Mass Effect), Ruthless (Mass Effect), Mass Effect 2, Whump, Eventual Smut, Requited Unrequited Love, Mind Control, Pining, so much fucking pining that even i'm a little disturbed, Hurt/Comfort, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, OC Central, a kid show called the electromenom that teaches shepard about basic physics, yet another cliffhanger ending (sorry), second in series

cover: done by the stunning @/milkywayes!!!!!

lil text blurb:

A Transcribed Interview Between Khalisa bint Sinan al-Jilani, Westerlund News, and Commander Delia Shepard, Disgraced Former Alliance Officer and Current Cerberus Terrorist, on September 8th, 2185: 

[al-Jilani]: Khalisa bint Sinan al-Jilani, Westerlund News. Do you have a moment to answer a few questions? 

[Shepard]: Oh, fuck me. 

[al-Jilani]: Admiral Hackett has released a formal statement that since the disaster at Horizon, that your position through the Alliance has been officially terminated. Is this because you failed to save the colonists on the planet, or because you were complicit with their disappearance? 

[Sheaprd]: We just landed, like, five fucking minutes ago. How did you find me? 

[al-Jilani]: The threat to Horizon and Freedom’s Progress comes after the now infamous geth invasion of Eden Prime. Tell me, does the Alliance truly value the lives of humans above all else, or do you believe that they offered up the colonists to ward against expansion and to appease the alien-centric Council? 

[Shepard]: We’re not even on the Citadel. We’re on Illium. 

[al-Jilani]: And now, you’ve allied yourself with known human extremists. Do you think this is an insult to your old partner, Garrus Vakarian, by partnering with the very organization that would threaten his existence, a noted fallen war hero? 

[Shepard]: Oh, please don’t tell me you’ve managed to clone yourself. There can only be one of you leeches the galaxy at any given time, and even that’s pushing it. 

[al-Jilani]: What would you say to Kaidan Alenko, your alleged lover, if he saw you cavorting with terrorists in his name? Or would he approve, seeing as he held former ties with the Terra Forma Party previously? 

[Shepard]: Alright, first, no he didn’t. Second, he’s not my lover. And third, do you ever hear the words coming out of your mouth and wonder why no one in this entire system can stand to be in your presence? 

[al-Jilani]: Has anyone told you that the scar on your face is hideous? 

[Shepard]: Has anyone told you that your face is hideous? 

[al-Jilani]: You very publicly have indulged and abetted a red sand addiction. Is it safe to assume that your previous comments are made under the influence of the illegal narcotic, despite your claims that you’ve been sober now for two years? 

It was at this time that former Commander Delia Shepard attempted to attack Khalisa bint Sinan al-Jilani. She was held back by an unknown woman in a hood, two unknown Cerberus officers, and one unknown turian, before ending her tantrum by storming away. Charges have been pressed, the local authorities of Illium know of Shepard’s numerous crimes against the freedom of press. al-Jilani, while shaken, has asserted that she will continue this story in search of the truth. 

[barbwritesstuff]

hey! everyone's been really talkative about this IF so I wanted to jump on the train :) do you think you could tell me about the RO routes and like, the vibe of them? i want to start planning out my characters now becuz the release date is next month! (congratulations btw)

also, ik this is a romance book, so I wanted to ask if there's a bunch of romance scenes/small romance stuff included? (ie; them holding hands, sneaky looks, etc) cuz some books advertise as a romance but like only include like 5 scenes, you feel me? the plot seems super cool and im intrigued! but romance also plays a huge part in my satisfaction so just, wanna know!

sorry if this comes off as rude 😭😭

Not rude at all! Though, honestly, I'm not 100% sure how to answer this.

Blood Moon is defiantly more romantic than a lot of games, but it's not as romantic as others. There are romantic scenes and moments, dates, and explicit content, but a large chunk of the game is also... not that.

Like the tagline says: date werewolves, fight vampires.

So, for every werewolf kiss, expect to have to punch a vampire or two.

If anyone who has played Blood Moon would like to comment on the romantic aspect of the game please do. As the author, I feel like I'm not the best person to describe it, because when I write the game I see every possible outcome, so it might seem different for me than someone playing it through.

As for vibes... There are eight romanceable characters and the feel of each romance is different.

CliffsNotes version:

Marco is a lanky blond guy who likes to joke around. He's got some insecurities, because he had a shitty upbringing, but he's also fiercely loving and loyal. He tends to 'match' with the player's character a lot, eg, when running side by side, they always run in lockstep. His romantic route has a lot of BFF to lovers vibes.

Vicky is a tall, muscular woman with a dark past. She's terrifying on the battlefield, but very soft and gentle with those she loves. Her romantic route is about finding peace and softness in a world at war. Great if you want to play a more world wary protagonist, through she can mesh with other sorts of characters too.

Ed is young, ambitious, cheeky, and idealistic. He's probably the most 'human' of the werewolves and strongly believes the world can and should be a better place, though he sometimes uses underhanded methods to make that happen. His route is pitched a little younger, and can include some 'first love' vibes.

Shawnie is a curvy red head with a sassy personality. She's very sexual but actually probably one of the hardest to win the heart of. You have to really get to know her, and prove that you're interested in her for her, before she really shows you her heart.

Roe is a non binary person, very beautiful, with long hair and a lean build. They can come across as aloof or cold, until you get to know them, then they'll show a fierce and passionate side. Romance route is VERY star-crossed lovers. They're torn between desire and duty.

Farro is the resident DILF. He's VERY tall and muscular. Think Pakistani lumberjack. He's also, in contrast to appearances, quite shy and reclusive. He has an eight year old daughter that is the opposite to him in almost every way. Be nice to the kid to win his heart.

Sergi is a stocky man, dark hair, dark eyes, and is older than the player's character by a decade or two (he will call you 'pup'). He has a playful personality, but undergoes some serious trauma throughout the story, so loses that for a large chunk of the game's runtime. The romance is a little forbidden love, but leans more toward shared trauma bringing people together.

Carrie is small, skinny, and covered in sharp edges. She can be rude and abrasive, especially before she gets to know the player's character, but beneath that has a heart of gold, for those willing to take their time to get to know her. Enemies to lovers, but perhaps not in the traditional sense.

I hope that helped.

[chidoroki]

182 Days of TPN - Day 93

Chapter 93: “The End”

Happy! The word you’re looking for is HAPPY! His life may have been cursed but these two made his life worth living which is so very important to a boy who wanted to end it all! Aaahh, they’re literally so damn special to him and I’ll never get over how deeply he loves and cares for them both.

I would never wanna experience the wide range of emotions Ray must be feeling during this moment. How hard his heart must’ve dropped the moment he saw his best friend get brutally stabbed, the way he became speechless as her seemingly lifeless body falls to the ground and all the panic he feels at the sight of all the blood.. the mere thought of being in a similar situation makes me feel sick and lightheaded.

Of course he’s absolutely seething with rage as well. Emma was one of the friends he swore to protect from the very beginning and to witness her now bleeding out as she lays motionless on the ground with some despicable demon lingering over her as it taunts the rest of the kids.. oh yeah, Ray’s far beyond pissed off. The amount of anger Ray expresses reminds me very much of that one panel back during ch65 and I love when he becomes unhinged whenever one half of his living emotional crutches is taken from him and/or hurt.

I think one of the reasons why this moment causes such anxiety between its characters and us readers is how the humans are plain and ordinary in this world (excluding those experimented on at Lambda). They have no special powers, magic, etc to fall back on which makes every injury permanent and real, so in the midst of battle where one fearsome enemy remains standing and no medical assistance is nearby, we’re lead to believe that Emma is truly in danger. Doesn’t matter that she’s the main protagonist either because she has indeed been seriously hurt in the past, with Isabella breaking her leg and our girl chopping off her own ear.

Teeny-tiny GP trio is precious to me. I wanna hug them.

The panels of Emma struggling to keep herself afloat as she slowly starts to sink causes “Diver” (Shippuden OP8) to play in my head every. single. time. I revisit this chapter. without fail. And I read this chapter back a lot.

Of course it’s very sweet that she thinks of Norman again during all this and I also love how Emma’s shown to be reaching outside the panel. Really puts in perspective how desperate she is to hold on.

No surprise here, but the moment when Isabella offers her assistance and encouragement is my favorite helping hand of the bunch. Since everything happening here is all inside Emma’s head, it proves that she still thinks of/cares for Isabella despite everything said woman has done in the past. What I really love about all this though is with Isabella being the final person that pulls Emma back into reality, it’s almost as if Emma’s first big enemy is helping her now defeat her current enemy and I think that’s neat. (thankfully this ain’t gonna be the last time momma helps out our girl either).

Sweetie, where exactly on your person where you hiding the pistol this entire time? And poor Nigel is still in tears, but they’re happy ones this time. Ray probably forgot how to breathe again though.

I love this duo so much.. he doesn’t even question how the hell she’s standing again and reads her mind perfectly to relay the plan she has to everyone else so they all can continue fighting and win.

In the previous chapter, Leuvis said that he wouldn’t fall for the same flash bomb trick twice, but I guess third time is the charm. He could’ve very well closed his eyes, though it would’ve left him open to the barrage of other bullets regardless, and with the flash bomb already detonated, he really didn’t have enough time to decide on another solution. Seems like Palvus has taken cover because he knows they’re already screwed.

Even though Leuvis starts to regenerate from the onslaught, we get Yuugo successfully avenging his family from many years ago with a critical hit to the poacher’s core. (well, one of them).

Favorite panel/moment:

To see a normal 11-year old girl stand back up after getting stabbed by one of the most intelligent and strongest demons in the series is such a thrilling and badass moment that completely captivates me every time I see it. There’s no power system for her to tap into and get some last minute boost like your typical shonens usually have and hell, not even some convenient medical attention helped get her back on her feet. She got up with pure fury, hostility and determination! Yeah yeah, plot-armor is a huge help here and she passes out shortly after this.. but regardless! Not only is this absolutely my favorite panel of Emma, but my favorite panel out of the entire story as well. This is very moment I truly fell in love with this girl and when she actually replaced Ray as my #1 character for quite some time. There’s so much I love about this moment for her and everything and aaahhh.. would’ve loved if the “63194” theme played here too.

[mjm5655]

[ SIX ] for receiver to witness sender get hurt which sends them into a violent rage. :’)

unprompted asks // accepting ! // @cogiita

it didn't take much for majima's temper to rise which was correct, so it was no surprise when he bore witness to his wife being thrown to the ground by one of her men that decided he wasn't going to take orders from a woman ...

she had rightfully took over her clan, whilst she may have been part of the omi alliance, that was an enemy to the tojo clan, majima did not let such things bother him. he found allies in it at times, old friends of his that he wouldn't neglect. both of the yakuza organisations had their pros & cons to majima ... there were just as many that would stab him in the back in the tojo clan. he'll never forget the treatment he had received from nishitani ... from what he heard, the kijin clan were still ongoing, with a new nishitani as its head ... either the old man had kids, or enforced a rule that only those that take his name could be patriarchs ... was nishitani even his real name ?

that stuff didn't matter however, the nishitani he knew was long dead at this point, the man never got to see the mad dog majima had became, the mad dog that was about to be unleashed as he stared at the man who threw his wife down with a silent rage bubbling underneath.

things were never good when majima stood silent ... fists clenched, majima stalked towards the man who had noticed him now, laughing away, not realising the danger he was in as majima grabbing onto his neck with gloved hand, & clashed him harshly against a wall.

he could hear the man gasping for breath already ... most yakuza were smokers, so it was no surprise this short chokehold had the man acting like he was a fish out of water ; majima would have been the same, remembering back to when sagawa ... even his old boss shimano at times did it ... shimano was a lot worse, with his size, he could lift majima right off his feet easily like this. majima was strong, but he did not have the core strength to lift a man by one hand.

reaching to his back, he pulled out his trusted knife, unsheathing it came so naturally to majima, he had the knife to the man's throat in an instance.

❝ keep yer fuckin' hands off o' my wife ! ❞

though, this warning was pointless, as majima had made his mind up on what he was going to do to this man, all it took was one good deep slice, & the man's life would be forfeit if majima's chokehold didn't already do the job ... he was holding onto the other's throat tightly, more tight than he would usually do. this man wasn't getting out of this alive. he could see the man turning blue in the face, he was running out of breath.

❝ so fuckin' pathetic, maybe i don't need my knife to end yer worthless life. ~ ❞

cogita was right behind him, probably watching her husband at his worst ... it was nothing she hadn't seen before, but had she ever saw him this bloodthirsty ? had she ever saw what gave him his reputation in the tojo clan, & out of it ?

no, he doesn't think she had ... but it wasn't deterring him. he was furious. silent ... but deadly. no one hurt what was his, & got away with it. he always told cogita that he would have loved to been the one to have killed her ex-husband, that he passed away too easily ; he had no idea how her ex-husband had died, all he could see that he passed away peacefully. too easy for that bastard. majima would have made his end hell.

oh.

the dude he had been holding in a chokehold had grown limp ... but he wasn't dead ... just passed out. majima let out a sigh, he wanted the man to be living as the blood splattered upon his face, to see the mad dog in his rage. majima simply took his knife, & slit the man's throat deeply, & allowed him to drop to the ground.

face covered in blood, he took a bit before he turned over to cogita, the furious expression still written upon his face as he knelt down, & with the same hand, caressed her cheek, wiping a tear away from her eye. he hoped she wasn't too fearful of him, he knew she didn't like this kind of act being done in front of her, but it was not something majima could simply hold in. his rage got the better of him.

they just remained in silence as the men who were with the attacker, panicked, & ran off before the same fate came to them.

[homelander-rp-blog]

She's taller than him when she's perched up on the counter, John's eyes unintentionally is drawn to her long, beautiful legs before she makes a grasp at his jaw, tilting his head up, his adam apple bobbing when he swallows, doesn't move a muscle, her touch sends a shiver down his spine, making him arch his back subtly Jesus just don't hump her now! and that's when he notices he's hard as a nail in his pants, awkwardly moves his legs to cover it. "well.. my daddy didn't raise a rude maniac.. he did raise a maniac but with manners" flashes a fond smile "if ain't a woman then what are you, kitten? Satan's spawn?" and throwing random sarcasms is what he's excellent at whenever he feels nervous or in danger, his tongue darts out to wet his lips, try not to play it as a salacious act "I'm afraid there's not a story in there, sweetheart. just me being an idiot for my entire life.. but girls like a marred man, no?" shit, he isn't sure if he's flirting right now or just babbling, it's been ages and he feels he's getting dry down there-

Finally, she lets go of him to eat, thank God, John tries to reel his thought to somewhere which doesn't involve her but can't help it, idly thinking if she was wearing a mini skirt, from his place he could take a peak- bites his tongue not to blurt a 'bet you got other interesting things under the belt, too' but stops himself a moment before ruining this peace "ah, such a pity.. wish I could give you my enemy's soul instead but guess I'm the first idiot handing over his own soul to you, eh?" he's only joking, no one likes to live in this world for so long "it does.. I just gonna hope mine won't be thrown to the deep level of hell, but, if hell is full of hot chicks, I wouldn't mind being thrown around" he gives a meaningful wink, raises his beer bottle for her "to my lil' demon's health then!" and goes up only to choke on the drink, coughs it out with a breathless laugh "who?! you?! you wanna.." placing the glass back on the counter, he pushes his empty plate away to prop up his foot on the counter, chair tilting back so he can look right at her face when they talk "you wanna run a ranch? didn't know it was between the options too. didn't peg you as a country girl" but then John notices the obvious change in her feature, how she talks about her family and gripping the counter too hard that her knuckles turn white, the blonde man is quick to shoot out of his chair, both hands wrapping gently around Eris' bony wrists "hey now.. hey" and tries to make her focus on him instead, a cloud of darkness covering over her always so bright eyes, John cups the side of her face, an act of instinct "yeah.. family can be bad sometimes.. God knows my own daddy used to beat me, and I wished for his death sometimes.." he grimaces, blue eyes looking sad "but not all of them are.. I uh.. my mom, she's a lovely woman. I think she'll like you if you two meet." chewing inside his cheek, his mind jumps to different branches to change the mood "look, we ever make it out alive, I'm gonna take you to my family's ranch, good? we got all types of animals in there.. uh.. goats, sheep! I'll even get you a cat, an orange one"

Their peaceful moment won't take long when a knock at the door interrupts them, John frown at the closed door "I don't expect anyone at this hour.." sure, Kevin is gonna visit him today but it's not the time "I swear if it's that kid from the upper floor.." looking around, he picks one of kitchen's knives and cautiously approaches the main entrance, his heart beating so loud in his ears "who's this?"

But no answer.

John opens the door, only a small gap to take a look at the visitor and gets hit in the face when whoever was behind, kicks it down. "it's from the Don, asshole!" two buff man rushing inside, and the first one kicks him right in his face, sending the knife in his hand flying across the floor "my fucking nose!" and there are blood everywhere. John tries to shield his head when they beat him. I should have known it, that pig sent his men for me! which will end up with him in the hospital, bad ending. John just hopes Eris gets her soul at the end, he wasn't someone to make a promise and break it.

"maybe the cat would like me for that very reason. A ginger one would be cute, or even a black cat, spook all the kids in the area." she smirked in amusement over the idea. "virgin demon, you're so funny." but she did laugh, that was a small achievement, she could probably have got him a gold medal for that one. either way those little berries popped into her mouth so easily, she loved the crunch of them fresh from the fridge. grapes were something she'd once dreamed of tasting. "when i say last time i was around it just means that it's been some time... but time works differently down there."

There was a pause, a way that she stared at him, her head slowly tilting, like she was learning every small fact in what he said, judging his soul and not his being but that wicked little smirk was everything and more. that smirk was what some people would sin for, even the holiest of men. "i think you'd look fantastic strapped to a chair, John." she remarked firstly with all the amusement trapped in the curl of her lips. "Oh, so you find me gorgeous?" Eris quipped onto that quickly. "Also, what's to say that I don't enjoy old you? I like the way you... view things, and I like the way you cook." with another swift motion she'd put another grape to her lips and crunched into it's skin, a soft hum of appreciation. "Meow." she played into the joke, but she was the luckiest black cat you could wish for.

"I've seen them, I like them.." she spoke a little softer, and without warning reached across, some of that smoke she moved in followed her and the surprisingly gentle way she reached her hand to run across the skin of his arm but it was her eyes that traced where she knew his scars to be. "They remind me of my own." she admitted. Glamour was a fantastic thing, it meant she could appear however she liked and most demons picked to look like someone they'd known or idolized in their life, Eris chose to be exactly as she was. Exactly as she'd been as a human, but her scars.... they reminded her so brutally of her death. "No need to apologies, I'm not much of a lady." Oh but she was, better than most. She flitted again, that is what she called the motion where she'd disperse, flitting. This time she was perched before him on the counter surface, one leg crossed over the other and bobbing up and down. Eris reached to take his chin, like he'd made him look at her days prior, she did the same to him. "I do like your scars John, they give you character, they tell me stories and I like the stories." Perhaps that was the nicest extension of humanity she could offer him on that.

"Bon patie!" she copied, this humming delight took her, it was the most content the demon looked when she was eating. " I've got a lot of souls under my belt..." she was truthful with that, but her eyes glued to him, trying to decipher his reaction and sometimes it was like Eris was studying his soul for response. "Souls give me power... that is how we rise up. I think humans believe we eat souls? That isn't it, it's sort of like... the more that belong to us, the more power we're granted, that type of thing. Some demons the lower level kind, they don't have the resolve to do what is required. Let's say you're summoned and someone wishes someone dead, you can take their soul in exchange for the chore you'd do for them, that's how it starts on the low levels and some can't do it. They are the weak, incapable. They are the ones I'd send to the pits, the hot coals, does that make... some sort of sense?"

She seemed happy in those moments but she had appreciation for food, especially when he'd cooked and it was still hot. "Why don't I run the ranch? I like animals, more than people. People are.." she pulled a face but it didn't last long before her eyes filled with utter darkness. If it was John's turn to study her, he'd find bitterness and hatred, a lack of mercy to their existence. "If my line continued I wish them plague and hunger, I would beg my highest for their damnation and revel in the glory of watching it. and I, do not beg for anything." there was no pause, no hesitation. She didn't know that she was digging her fingernails so firmly into the way that it was chipping beneath her grip, the tips of her fingers turning white from the pressure. "I hope they live in fear of my name."

[borahaerhy]

Gone (9) - jjk

Summary: You and your childhood best friend, Jungkook, have grown apart over the years, although you still have the same overbearing fun-loving bestie, Aria, that really wants her best friends talking again, something neither of you really want to be apart of until Aria goes missing, and the only other person that could help you find her is the one you've spent years avoiding.

Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

Genre: Best friends to enemies (ish?) to lovers, High School AU, eventual smut, slow burn

Warnings: What actually happened the night Aria's mom died, Some unaliving, some blood, Aria drops a lamp and probably wishes that she didn't, Y/n is OUT OF IT, and also not at all the main character rn, Some people get arrested, an FBI raid, Y/n blatantly disregarding anything an authority figure says.

Word Count: 2.7K

Note: In honor of Jin joining the military, I thought I'd get my shit together and actually finish this chapter.

I'll have an actual update posted tomorrow about where I've been and hopefully, I'll be getting a schedule started to make sure I'm posting somewhat normally again.

Barely proofread, if there's a mistake no there's not.

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“Are you fucking kidding me, Carl? How do we owe ten thousand dollars to a fucking cop?”  

“Where the fuck do you think I’ve been getting your drugs, huh? Do you think I just found that duffle bag?” The screams got louder as what they were screaming about had gotten more and more muffled in the ears of Aria. She sat up in her bedroom on the second floor of the house, her parents arguing just at the bottom of the stairs that her bedroom door was adjacent to.  

“So you stole from a fucking cop?!”  

“I didn’t steal shit! I went to him with a business proposition, and I just haven’t exactly carried out my end of the deal yet,” Lillian scoffed, running her fingers through her thin hair as she walked away from her husband, anger consuming her.  

“So, long story short, you borrowed from a cop knowing full fucking well you couldn’t pay him back?”  

“Fuck, Lil, I fucking guess, yeah!” The screaming resumed, the two of them at the other’s throats so loudly that they couldn’t even hear the glass breaking in the back of the house.  

Bennett had only coincidentally picked the night the two of them had been at each other’s throats. In fact, he didn’t think anyone was home, which was why he broke in. The car wasn’t in the driveway, none of the lights were on, all the curtains drawn and all the light on the porch was off; something they did on purpose to avoid the confrontation of Bennett showing up and asking for his money back.  

As he fell through the window and onto the carpeted floor, he cursed himself as the voices of Carl and Lillian filled the house. He stood from his position and brushed himself off, before he pulled the curtains back over to cover up the mess he’d made.  

He pulled the gun from the waist band of his jeans and began walking slowly toward the source of the yelling. He peered through the cracked door and spotted at the end of the hallway a woman who he had not recognized. She had been the one screaming at Carl; the man that owed him money. He opened the door wide enough for him to fit, thankful that the creakiness was only apparent when they were at their loudest points.  

“We barely have thirty dollars to our name, how the fuck are we supposed to get ten fucking thousand dollar-” Before she could finish her sentence, Bennett grabbed her from behind, gun to her head and hand covering her mouth. Carl’s eyes went wide as he saw the very man he owed money too how holding his wife hostage.  

“You’re gonna listen very closely, Carl,” No one dared make a move, Lillian had stopped struggling as soon as she felt the cool steel of the gun to her temple. Carl nodded softly, beckoning Bennett to continue. “How much of the drugs do you have left?” Carl only swallowed at the question, eyes wide as they swiftly moved back and forth between the pleading eyes of Lillian, and the cold ones of Bennett.  

Bennett cocked the gun, as if a threat to Carl saying “if you don’t respond now, my gun will do the talking”.  

“None,” He spat out as fast as he could, taking a very small shuffle forward with a hand outstretched, as if trying to reach out to his wife. Bennett took a step back, pulling Lillian along with him. She stumbled back into his body, his grip on her mouth strong enough to keep her standing until she was able to rebalance herself. “We did it all, we don’t have any of it left,”  

“Do you have anything of value in this shithole? Any jewelry, electronics-”  

Carl very swiftly took off his wedding band and held it out for Bennett to look at. “That it?” Carl nodded, his wife not even having hers; they’d pawned it seven months ago. “How much did you pay for it?” Carl swallowed.  

“Ninety-nine dollars,”  

“Ninety-” Bennett sighed, eyes clenched in tension as the smell of cigarette smoke permeating off of Lillian’s hair was beginning to nauseate him. “Jesus, you got any fucking kids?” The color drained form both Carl and Lillian’s faces, a horrible fear striking them both down to their core as Lillian’s eyes darted toward the stairs.  

“No,” He answered almost too fast. “No, we tried, but we were never able to have any. Let’s strike up a deal, huh? Let’s start a payment plan and-and you can charge me interest. I’ll end up giving you twenty thousand total, double what you lost. What do you say?” Bennett’s face turned to a scowl, pissed at even the thought. He had people that he owed money to, he couldn’t take a payment plan.  

“Carl, just shut the fuck up for a se-”  

A loud bang from the top floor startled them. A loud bang that had been caused by Aria knocking over her lamp. She bumped into her bedside table as she was trying to get a better look out the window, to see if you were there yet, and her lamp fell. Her heavy, glass lamp fell so hard onto the wood floors that it made everyone in the house jump.  

Bennett included, though he jumped a lot more than anyone else. His hand squeezed the trigger of the gun a little too hard, a little harder than he had intended and another, much louder bang rang through the house, and the woman he was holding suddenly fell limp in his arms.  

She slumped to the ground, covered in her own blood as Carl fell to the ground on top of her, holding her in his chest screaming her name, screaming for someone to go get help. Seconds later, siren’s could be heard going off in the distance, along with the sound of his phone ringing.  

He ran from the house back the way he came, dropping the gun in the bushes as he hurried away seconds before you and the cops showed up.  

He ran back to his car, took off his bloody jacket, and drove up to the crime scene, entering it as if he was just a cop that got called in to the scene. The gun he was able to take care of, but the bullet casing of the round he fired was never found.  

- 

“I’m sorry,” Your voice was shaky and much softer than you had intended as you finally were able to bring yourself to speak. “Jungkook’s blood?” So many questions were screaming, loudly ringing in your head but the only thing you could even manage was to clarify that it was really his.  

“We ran some tests, and no doubt, it’s his. There was a lot, but there was also a trail of it that led to the garage where it suddenly stopped, presumably from when they put him into a car. From what we can gather, he got shot, likely in the abdomen, and was still alive when they took him from the scene,” She paused, watching you as you fell back into your seat. Almost all of the muscles in your body had gone limp as your eyes started blankly at the cheeseburger in front of you. You weren’t able to comprehend the emotions going through you, all feeling having left your body as you tried to comprehend the words spoken to you, but were completely unable to.  

“We don’t know where he or Aria are, but we are doing everything in our power to find them. We’ve checked all his listed residences, but none of them are anywhere in the area. We have officers posted everywhere, and everyone at the police station he worked at has been made aware of his crimes; we even had to make a couple arrests from in the station because of their affiliation with him.”  

She kept droning on for what felt like hours, but you never managed to pick up anything she’d said after “he got shot”. She left at some point, you have no idea when, but could assume she left once she noticed you’d checked out.  

You sat emotionless at the table, completely unmoving as you sat and looked at the unfinished food sat in front of you. Nothing was anything. No thoughts ran through your head and no movements needed to have been made except for the slow in and exhale of your lungs, and the occasional blink of your heavy eyelids to keep your eyes from drying out.  

You said nothing, did nothing, thought nothing until everything fell onto you all at once.  

Fear hit you in one powerful swift motion; as if someone had hit you in the chest and knocked all the air out of you. You were gasping for breath as you clutched your chest, leaning as far forward in the chair as possible, silent sobs ripping through you as your whole body began to shake.  

You had always been afraid, sure. There was always something to be scared of, or to be anxious about. There was never a moment in your life where you felt completely calm; completely at peace. You’d always been anxious. The fact that you always had been and always would be afraid was something you’d grown to accept a long time ago.  

But this?  

This was a fear you’d never even come close to feeling.  

Even the past week that you’d been more terrified than you’d ever been in your life was nothing compared to the fear that consumed you right now.  

At least when Aria was missing, you could do something to try to find her. You had Jungkook. You were doing something to get her back, and you were there to protect him, and he to protect you.  

But now you sat alone in a cold sterile room, the pane of glass reflecting your own image back at you was taunting you. You’re here. You can’t help. You’re the only one that’s safe; the only one whose whereabouts are known.  

They only one alive, for all you know.  

And all you could do, was sit alone in a room, waiting for news on the only two people that ever mattered in your life.  

- 

You sat alone in that damned room for hours at least, days probably, weeks even possibly, you had no idea. Time was a concept that had completely left you at this point. The only things that you could think of were your friends and whether or not you'd have to bury them.

Your pulse had grown almost unbearably loud in your ears, the only noise audible otherwise being the occasional muffled door closing from on the other side of the wall.

Your food had long since been eaten, and after Kendrick had taken away your trash and brought you a water, no one had been in to see you.

You sat at the table unmoving for hours, occasionally adjusting slightly to relieve your aching spine in the uncomfortable chair.

Jungkook was dead.

There's nothing else that was more apparent in your mind. You'd been sitting here for so long that they'd already found his body and buried him. He was shot, strangled, stabbed, drugged, hanged even. Gutted laying across the basement floor as Aria sat and watched, her voice raw from screaming out in fear, tears stained on her cheeks.

There were hundreds of possibilities running through your mind, but the most prominent ones had always been the most gruesome worst-case scenarios.

Suddenly your door was open, and Kendrick was leaning halfway in, a large commotion going on behind her as you furrowed your brow, trying to see behind her.

"We found your friends," She paused, the smallest of smiles on her face as she waited for you to have any reaction. Your eyes began to well up with tears, relieved to hear something, anything. No matter if it's good or bad, it'll be over soon and you'll have something new to worry about. "You coming with?"

You quickly stood and followed her out of the dastardly room, walking swiftly behind her as people rushed around you.

Less than a minute later, you were in the front seat of a squad car she was driving, sirens blaring as you both sped down the road. Neither of you bothered putting on your seatbelt, both far too focused on what was about to happen to worry about your own personal safety.

The longest and yet the shortest car ride of your life ended abruptly, as Kendrick slammed on the brakes and slid into position, filling in the last open space around a house that was now completely surrounded - no way out.

"Stay here, I'll let you know when it's safe to come out," You nodded and she got out, pulling her gun out of its holster and getting into position as a group of officers began breaking down the front door.

Aria was immediately on alert, the loud banging of the door being broken down shaking the house around her. Her first thought was that it was Bennett again, probably hurting or killing Jungkook.

But then there was another loud bang.

And another.

Jay was in the room with her and was already on high alert before the door was being broken down. He moved slowly over to the window and peered out of it, his heart dropping to his stomach as he saw the police cars and ambulances completely surrounding the house.

The worried look that spread across Jay's face met the tear-filled smile on Aria's. This was all over, just a few more minutes, and she'd be free.

Jungkook's thoughts closely matched Aria's initial ones as he sat in the basement, just waiting for something to happen. The banging continued and his anxiety only grew, not being able to see anything to clue him in on what was going on around him.

It didn't take long for his anxiety to subside, as the police broke in, FBI agents swarming the house and flooding into every room. Everyone was arrested and brought out one by one and set into separate vans, as more officers untied the two hostages held in different corners of the house.

You watched as Bennett, along with several other men get escorted out of the house, handcuffs on their wrists and fear plastered on their faces.

Your eyes however never left the front door for very long, waiting for when they'd bring out your friends - your family.

You didn't wait for Kendrick to tell you it was okay to get out of the car. You didn't even wait when she yelled out your name, or when one of the twenty other officers called after you as well.

Aria was out of the house.

Aria was safe.

You ran as fast as you could, through the hoards of officers, and as soon as she saw you, she started running too.

You meet in the tightest hug you're sure anyone on the planet had ever been in before, falling to the ground as you sobbed in each other's arms.

You were pulled up by some officers, Aria needing to be checked out by one of the paramedics at the very least before anything else happened.

You went with her, standing a few feet away as they examined her. You turned your gaze back to the front door as Jungkook was being wheeled out, laying flat on a gurney.

You moved toward him, only to be stopped by one of the paramedics.

"We need to get him to a hospital, you can speak to him once-"

"Y/n," Your eyes left the paramedics and landed on Jungkook. He looked exhausted and pale, covered in a layer of sweat, with the biggest smile you'd ever seen spread across his face. His hand reached out to you, and you pushed past everyone to grab it.

"You're okay," You couldn't stop smiling while looking at him, alive and safe.

"I promised you I would be, didn't I?" You gripped onto each other as he tried to pull off a cocky smirk. The gurney stopped moving as they situated him to get loaded up into the ambulance as you took the opportunity to push the hair from his face, letting your hand rest on his cheek as you both looked back and forth between each other's eyes.

With all the strength he could muster up, Jungkook pulled you down to him, your lips meeting his briefly before you were pulled back, and he was loaded up into the ambulance.

You watched as they climbed in after him and closed the doors.

"C'mon, hon; I'll drive you to the hospital."

-

Note: ffs FINALLY. There will be another chapter, don't worry loves, but I'm glad I finally got this one to a place where I actually feel proud of it.

Taglist: @koobsessed@mwitsmejk@roxy1205@yoon2jk@pamzn@drmrastraea@bbl32@softforpj@lpgirl2324@astoriasx@mooncuddler@theaufanartist@petalsofink @unsureofwhathappens

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

AFFC: Cersei II (Chapter 7)

A cold rain was falling, turning the walls and ramparts of the Red Keep dark as blood.

I'm starting to think this Red Keep might be a woeful place.

He remembered seeing the Red Keep looming ahead of him in the first grey light of dawn. The rain had darkened the pale pink stone of the massive walls to the color of blood. - Eddard IX, AGOT

x

The sun had fallen below the western wall, and the stones of the Red Keep glowed dark as blood. - Sansa VI, AGOT

It's cold, and pouring rain during Tywin's wake. This pleases me.

+.+.+

The queen held the king's hand and led him firmly across the muddy yard to where her litter waited with its escort. "Uncle Jaime said I could ride my horse and throw pennies to the smallfolk," the boy objected.

"Do you want to catch a chill?"

That feels like a bad sentence.

+.+.+

Only the highborn and their retinues were to be admitted to the morning service; there would be another in the afternoon for the commons, and the evening prayers were open to all. Cersei would need to return for that, so that the smallfolk might see her mourn. The mob must have its show. 

How does the kid have better instincts than the queen? Compare Tommen wanting to throw the smallfolk pennies to Cersei believing they care about what she's wearing, or whether she's properly mourning.

This is why the Tyrells are winning.

+.+.+

Tommen did as he was bid. His meekness troubled her. A king had to be strong. Joffrey would have argued. He was never easy to cow.

Kill the boy, Tommen.

+.+.+

"Don't slump so," she told Tommen. "Sit like a king. Put your shoulders back and straighten your crown. Do you want it to tumble off your head in front of all your lords?"

A beautiful parallel is born if you ignore Tommen, and picture Cersei giving this same advice to Joffrey.

He [Viserys] studied her critically. "You still slouch. Straighten yourself." He pushed back her shoulders with his hands. "Let them see that you have a woman's shape now." - Daenerys I, AGOT

+.+.+

He will grow into Joff's crown in time. Until he did, a smaller one might be needed, one that did not threaten to swallow his head.

That feels like a bad sentence.

+.+.+

"I thought there would be more people. When Father died, all the people came out to watch us go by."

"This rain has driven them inside." King's Landing had never loved Lord Tywin. He never wanted love, though. "You cannot eat love, nor buy a horse with it, nor warm your halls on a cold night," she heard him tell Jaime once, when her brother had been no older than Tommen.

Yikes.

+.+.+

Lord Tywin had given him that crown to replace the one that was lost when the mob killed the previous High Septon. They had pulled the fat fool from his litter and torn him apart, the day Myrcella sailed for Dorne. That one was a great glutton, and biddable. This one . . . This High Septon was of Tyrion's making, Cersei recalled suddenly. It was a disquieting thought.

[...]

What does he know of me? How much did the dwarf tell him? The High Septon smiled as he escorted her into the sept. But was it a threatening smile full of unspoken knowledge, or just some vacuous twitch of an old man's wrinkled lips? The queen could not be certain.

How is this not the funniest character in the story?

Tyrion is not funny. This? This is funny.

+.+.+

The High Septon walked slowly, leaning on a weirwood staff topped by a crystal orb. 

Is that allowed?

+.+.+

Many of her father's bannermen were here, and knights who had fought beside Lord Tywin in half a hundred battles. The sight of them made her feel more confident. I am not without friends.

Twenty seconds later:

The queen put her arm around Tommen and kissed his golden curls. He will need me to teach him how to rule and keep him safe from his enemies. Some of them stood around them even now, pretending to be friends.

Again, how is this not the funniest character in the story?

+.+.+

Her brother was growing his beard again as well. The stubble covered his jaw and cheeks, and gave his face a rough, uncouth look. He might at least have waited till Father's bones were interred beneath the Rock.

Dead Lannisters belong beneath the Rock.

+.+.+

Even in death his face is noble, she thought, although the mouth . . . The corners of her father's lips curved upward ever so slightly, giving him a look of vague bemusement. That should not be. She blamed Pycelle; he should have told the silent sisters that Lord Tywin Lannister never smiled. The man is as useless as nipples on a breastplate. That half smile made Lord Tywin seem less fearful, somehow.

[...]

"Mother." Tommen tugged her sleeve. "What smells so bad?"

My lord father. 

It's not enough he was killed by his son on the toilet, the author is going to send him off smelling rank and smirking like a weirdo, while it pours outside.

+.+.+

Lord Tywin's eyes are closed forever now, Cersei thought. It is my look they will flinch from now, my frown that they must fear. I am a lion too.

It was gloomy within the sept with the sky so grey outside. If the rain ever stopped, the sun would slant down through the hanging crystals to drape the corpse in rainbows. The Lord of Casterly Rock deserved rainbows. He had been a great man. I shall be greater, though. A thousand years from now, when the maesters write about this time, you shall be remembered only as Queen Cersei's sire.

I wonder if I'll contemplate my own greatness during my father's funeral.

That last line is probably accurate.

+.+.+

How can Lancel be among the living when Tywin Lannister is dead? Have the gods taken leave of their wits?

Lord Gyles was coughing more than usual and covering his nose with a square of red silk. He can smell it too. Grand Maester Pycelle had his eyes closed. If he has fallen asleep, I swear I will have him whipped. 

I have nothing to say, I'm only laughing.

+.+.+

To the right of the bier knelt the Tyrells: the Lord of Highgarden, his hideous mother and vapid wife, his son Garlan and his daughter Margaery. Queen Margaery, she reminded herself; Joff's widow and Tommen's wife-to-be. Margaery looked very like her brother, the Knight of Flowers. The queen wondered if they had other things in common. Our little rose has a good many ladies waiting attendance on her, night and day.

This thought happens pages before Cersei starts lusting for Lady Merryweather.

Cersei projecting all over Margaery begins now.

+.+.+

Lancel nodded, plainly miserable. "When it seemed that I might die, my father brought the High Septon to pray for me. He is a good man." Her cousin's eyes were wet and shiny, a child's eyes in an old man's face. "He says the Mother spared me for some holy purpose, so I might atone for my sins."

Cersei wondered how he intended to atone for her. Knighting him was a mistake, and bedding him a bigger one. Lancel was a weak reed, and she liked his newfound piety not at all; he had been much more amusing when he was trying to be Jaime. What has this mewling fool told the High Septon? And what will he tell his little Frey when they lie together in the dark? If he confessed to bedding Cersei, well, she could weather that. Men were always lying about women; she would put it down as the braggadocio of a callow boy smitten by her beauty. If he sings of Robert and the strongwine, though . . . "Atonement is best achieved through prayer," Cersei told him. "Silent prayer." She left him to think about that and girded herself to face the Tyrell host.

Guys, I'm starting to worry about the High Septon.

And I don't have high hopes for the other one either.

The only question would be whether Jaime cut him down in a jealous rage, or Cersei murdered him first to keep Jaime from finding out. Tyrion's silver was on Cersei. - Tyrion VII, ACOK

+.+.+

It was Lady Merryweather who truly pleased her. "Your Grace," that one said, in her sultry Myrish tones, "I have sent word to my friends across the narrow sea, asking them to seize the Imp at once should he show his ugly face in the Free Cities."

"Do you have many friends across the water?"

"In Myr, many. In Lys as well, and Tyrosh. Men of power."

Cersei could well believe it. The Myrish woman was too beautiful by half; long-legged and full-breasted, with smooth olive skin, ripe lips, huge dark eyes, and thick black hair that always looked as if she'd just come from bed. She even smells of sin, like some exotic lotus. "Lord Merryweather and I wish only to serve Your Grace and the little king," the woman purred, with a look that was as pregnant as Lady Graceford.

This one is ambitious, and her lord is proud but poor. "We must speak again, my lady. Taena, is it? You are most kind. I know that we shall be great friends."

Cersei instantly befriending Lady Merryweather because she's attractive and speaks of having Tyrion killed is so perfectly Cersei.

+.+.+

"Lord Tywin was a great man, an extraordinary man," he [Mace Tyrell] declared ponderously after he had kissed both her cheeks. "We shall never see his like again, I fear."

You are looking at his like, fool, Cersei thought. It is his daughter standing here before you.

Bran's rank as the second best POV in the series is in serious danger.

+.+.+

The governance of the realm must come first, Lord Tywin often said. And I am pleased to bring Your Grace good tidings in that regard. My uncle Garth has agreed to serve as master of coin, as your lord father wished. He is making his way to Oldtown to take ship. His sons will accompany him. Lord Tywin mentioned something about finding places for the two of them as well. Perhaps in the City Watch.

The queen's smile had frozen so hard she feared her teeth might crack. Garth the Gross on the small council and his two bastards in the gold cloaks . . . do the Tyrells think I will just serve the realm up to them on a gilded platter? The arrogance of it took her breath away.

Here's another mistake by the brilliant Tywin Lannister that gets glossed over by the fandom.

When Robert surrounded himself with Lannisters everyone with half a brain could see that was a disaster. Tywin does the same with the Tyrells, and all I hear is crickets.

+.+.+

Then his mother appeared and slid her arm through his own. "It would seem that Lord Tywin did not share his plans with our regent, I can't imagine why. Still, there 'tis, no use hectoring Her Grace. She is quite right, you must write Lord Leyton before Garth boards a ship. You know the sea will sicken him and make his farting worse." Lady Olenna gave Cersei a toothless smile. "Your council chambers will smell sweeter with Lord Gyles, though I daresay that coughing would drive me to distraction. We all adore dear old uncle Garth, but the man is flatulent, that cannot be gainsaid. I do abhor foul smells." Her wrinkled face wrinkled up even more. "I caught a whiff of something unpleasant in the holy sept, in truth. Mayhaps you smelled it too?"

"No," Cersei said coldly. "A scent, you say?"

"More like a stink."

[...]

"Lord Tywin and I were on the point of setting a date, as it happens. Perhaps you and I might take up that discussion, Your Grace."

"Soon."

"Soon will serve," said Lady Olenna with a sniff. "Now come along, Mace, let Her Grace get on with her . . . grief."

I will see you dead, old woman

These two could do this for the next hundred pages, and I wouldn't grow tired of it.

+.+.+

Qyburn was old, but his hair still had more ash than snow in it, and the laugh lines around his mouth made him look like some little girl's favorite grandfather. A rather shabby grandfather, though. The collar of his robe was frayed, and one sleeve had been torn and badly sewn. "I must beg Your Grace's pardon for my appearance," he said. "I have been down in the dungeons making inquiries into the Imp's escape, as you commanded."

[...]

"I know all this." Jaime had examined Rugen's cell, and Ser Addam's gold cloaks had examined it again.

"Aye, Your Grace," said Qyburn, "but did you know that under that stinking chamber pot was a loose stone, which opened on a small hollow? The sort of place where a man might hide valuables that he did not wish to be discovered?"

"Valuables?" This was new. "Coin, you mean?" She had suspected all along that Tyrion had somehow bought this gaoler.

"Beyond a doubt. To be sure, the hole was empty when I found it. No doubt Rugen took his ill-gotten treasure with him when he fled. But as I crouched over the hole with my torch, I saw something glitter, so I scratched in the dirt until I dug it out." Qyburn opened his palm. "A gold coin."

He looks like some little girl's favourite grandfather, therefore I trust him.

For some reason I thought Varys admitted to leaving the Gardener coin to create conflict, but apparently I imagined that.

It was most likely Varys, but there does exist a possibility that Qyburn is playing her.

+.+.+

Gold, yes, but the moment Cersei took it she could tell that it was wrong. Too small, she thought, too thin. The coin was old and worn. On one side was a king's face in profile, on the other side the imprint of a hand. "This is no dragon," she said.

"No," Qyburn agreed. "It dates from before the Conquest, Your Grace. The king is Garth the Twelfth, and the hand is the sigil of House Gardener."

Who would ever fall for this?

+.+.+

Of Highgarden. Cersei closed her hand around the coin. What treachery is this? Mace Tyrell had been one of Tyrion's judges, and had called loudly for his death. Was that some ploy? Could he have been plotting with the Imp all the while, conspiring at Father's death? With Tywin Lannister in his grave, Lord Tyrell was an obvious choice to be King's Hand, but even so . . . "You will not speak of this with anyone," she commanded.

Never mind.

We'll eventually learn Olenna travelled with these coins.

Cersei sat beneath the window. "Did you know that the Queen of Thorns keeps a chest of coins in her wheelhouse? Old gold from before the Conquest. Should any tradesman be so unwise as to name a price in golden coins, she pays him with hands from Highgarden, each half the weight of one of our dragons. What merchant would dare complain of being cheated by Mace Tyrell's lady mother?" She sipped her wine, and said, "Did you enjoy your little ride?" - Jaime II, AFFC

I doubt Qyburn would know something like that, but Varys would.

+.+.+

He is not Pycelle, that much is plain. The queen weighed him, wondering. "Why did the Citadel take your chain?"

"The archmaesters are all craven at heart. The grey sheep, Marwyn calls them. I was as skilled a healer as Ebrose, but aspired to surpass him. For hundreds of years the men of the Citadel have opened the bodies of the dead, to study the nature of life. I wished to understand the nature of death, so I opened the bodies of the living. For that crime the grey sheep shamed me and forced me into exile . . . but I understand the nature of life and death better than any man in Oldtown."

"Do you?" That intrigued her. "Very well. The Mountain is yours. Do what you will with him, but confine your studies to the black cells. When he dies, bring me his head. My father promised it to Dorne. Prince Doran would no doubt prefer to kill Gregor himself, but we all must suffer disappointments in this life."

"Very good, Your Grace." Qyburn cleared his throat. "I am not so well provided as Pycelle, however. I must needs equip myself with certain . . ."

"I shall instruct Lord Gyles to provide you with gold sufficient for your needs. Buy yourself some new robes as well. You look as though you've wandered up from Flea Bottom." She studied his eyes, wondering how far she dared trust this one. "Need I say that it will go ill for you if any word of your . . . labors . . . should pass beyond these walls?"

"No, Your Grace." Qyburn gave her a reassuring smile. "Your secrets are safe with me."

Fix your clothes, she can't have people who look poor in her inner circle.

Similar to Marwyn, I don't know what to make of Harold Shipman here. Almost every instinct Cersei has is wrong or misplaced, so her trusting him has to be a mistake, right?

+.+.+

Try as she might, she could not seem to bring Lord Tywin's face to mind without seeing that silly little half smile and remembering the foul smell coming off his corpse. She wondered whether Tyrion was somehow behind that as well. It is small and cruel, like him. Could Tyrion have made Pycelle his catspaw? He sent the old man to the black cells, and this Rugen had charge of those cells, she remembered. All the strings were tangled up together in ways she did not like. This High Septon is Tyrion's creature too, Cersei recalled suddenly, and Father's poor body was in his care from dark till dawn.

Are you prepared to watch Daenerys become this paranoid? Because it's going to happen.

+.+.+

Ser Kevan was fair-skinned and blond, though at five-and-fifty he had lost most of his hair. No one would ever call him comely. Thick of waist, round of shoulder, with a square jutting chin that his close-cropped yellow beard did little to conceal, he reminded her of some old mastiff . . . but a faithful old mastiff was the very thing that she required.

Mastiffs can be ferocious things, Cersei.

Leo yawned. "The sea is wet, the sun is warm, and the menagerie hates the mastiff."

He has a mocking name for everyone, thought Pate, but he could not deny that Marwyn looked more a mastiff than a maester. As if he wants to bite you. The Mage was not like other maesters. - Prologue, AFFC

Both Tyrion and Cersei think of Kevan as Tywin's obedient dog. Get ready to learn how wrong they are.

+.+.+

She held out her cup, and Senelle filled it once again.

x

When he was gone, Cersei poured herself a cup of strongwine and drank it by the window, watching the shadows lengthen across the yard and thinking about the coin. 

x

They ate a simple supper of beets and bread and bloody beef with a flagon of Dornish red to wash it all down. Ser Kevan said little and scarce touched his wine cup.

Guys, I think Cersei might have a problem.

+.+.+

"Better that than suffer another Tyrell on the council." His reproach annoyed her. "Rosby will make an adequate master of coin. You've seen that litter of his, with its carvings and silk draperies. His horses are better dressed than most knights. A man that rich should have no problem finding gold. As for Handship . . . who better to finish my father's work than the brother who shared all his counsels?"

"Every man needs someone he can trust. Tywin had me, and once your mother."

"He loved her very much." Cersei refused to think about the dead whore in his bed. "I know they are together now."

lmfao.

I'm slow, I only now registered that Tywin refused to remarry, yet denied Cersei the same courtesy. What a stinky bitch (derogatory).

Also, I love that she's using Rosby's fancy litter as evidence he'll be a good master of coin. Hahahaha.

+.+.+

"So I pray." Ser Kevan studied her face for a long moment before he replied. "You ask much of me, Cersei."

"No more than my father did."

"I am tired." Her uncle reached for his wine cup and took a swallow. "I have a wife I have not seen in two years, a dead son to mourn, another son about to marry and assume a lordship. Castle Darry must be made strong again, its lands protected, its burned fields plowed and planted anew. Lancel needs my help."

Please don't tell me Kevan is a better father and husband than Davos.

+.+.+

"The realm. Aye. And House Lannister." He sipped his wine again. "Very well. I will remain and serve His Grace . . ."

"Very good," she started to say, but Ser Kevan raised his voice and bulled right over her.

". . . so long as you name me regent as well as Hand and take yourself back to Casterly Rock."

[...]

"If you are resolved against another marriage, I will not force it on you. As to the other, though . . . you are the Lady of Casterly Rock now. Your place is there."

I would normally detest a mother being separated from her children, but this is different.

+.+.+

"Jaime . . . Jaime has taken vows. Jaime never thinks, he laughs at everything and everyone and says whatever comes into his head. Jaime is a handsome fool."

"And yet he was your first choice to be the King's Hand. What does that make you, Cersei?"

+.+.+

"The king is my son!" Cersei rose to her feet.

"Aye," her uncle said, "and from what I saw of Joffrey, you are as unfit a mother as you are a ruler."

+.+.+

"Are you threatening me?"

"I am counseling you. If you will not yield the regency to me, name me your castellan for Casterly Rock and make either Mathis Rowan or Randyll Tarly the Hand of the King."

Tyrell bannermen, both of them. The suggestion left her speechless. Is he bought? she wondered. Has he taken Tyrell gold to betray House Lannister?

"Mathis Rowan is sensible, prudent, well liked," her uncle went on, oblivious. "Randyll Tarly is the finest soldier in the realm. A poor Hand for peacetime, but with Tywin dead there's no better man to finish this war. Lord Tyrell cannot take offense if you choose one of his own bannermen as Hand. Both Tarly and Rowan are able men . . . and loyal. Name either one, and you make him yours. You strengthen yourself and weaken Highgarden, yet Mace will likely thank you for it." He gave a shrug. 

Dot, dot, dot. And loyal.

Those two names again.

Varys gave him a simpering smile. "You would win, my lord. Lord Alester was indeed the first to bend the knee. Many others followed."

"Many," Tyrion said pointedly, "but not all?"

"Not all," agreed the eunuch. "Not Loras Tyrell, nor Randyll Tarly, nor Mathis Rowan. - Tyrion VIII, ACOK

Those two Targaryen loyalists.

+.+.+

Traitor, she thought. Turncloak. She wondered how much Mace Tyrell had given him. "You would abandon your king when he needs you most," she told him. "You would abandon Tommen."

"Tommen has his mother." Ser Kevan's green eyes met her own, unblinking. A last drop of wine trembled wet and red beneath his chin, and finally fell. "Aye," he added softly, after a pause, "and his father too, I think."

Final thoughts:

I hate when one character's point of view dominates a book, but this will be an exception.

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[summercreolefanfictioner]

the crown and the throne (DiaLovers fanfic // Game of Thrones AU)

he who cut off the promise || ayato, yui, laito, kanato

Ayato was in deep pain.

Deep.

Searing.

Pain.

He grimaced, his back leaning on the cold wall of his prison cell as he struggled to stop the blood flowing from his right hand, which had been cut off earlier. He tries not to make a sound as he bandaged himself, forcing himself to bite his tongue until it bleeds. After all, he won't give these fuckers the satisfaction of knowing he's in pain.

It's a good thing they didn't cut my left, he thought because he knew he was one of those rare swordsmen who fought with their left hand.

Once done, he quietly sighed, wiping off the sweat from his forehead as he reminisced about the events that had transpired before this whole thing.

When the dragon led him out of the forest, he was brought into a town untouched by any other houses. In fact, it was a town that never knew anything about the war between kingdoms nor the upcoming battle between the living and the undead. All the people know is that there is no such thing as war, but long-lasting peace.

Ah... another bunch who believes in false positivity. They never know what's coming for them.

Ayato decided to rest in this town for a bit, and it surprised him that no one knew him. Like they didn't question why he had that crass yet sharp Westerosi accent or how he can speak like a prince (well, he is one). It's like he's just an ordinary man, not an exiled prince from the King's Landing.

If Ayato was being reckless, he might've probably hatched a plan to take Yui away and live with her peacefully in this town. Then, hopefully, after a few months, they will marry and have kids of their own, bundle of joys that they will spoil rotten as they grow old and wrinkly.

But Ayato knew it was a fleeting dream. After all, there will come a time his enemies would attack him and he'll just be putting Yui in danger again. Plus, Yui has changed. Word spread of her flight from the Tsukinamis as she rode on a giant dragon and conquered a vast land in the Dothraki sea.

She's a fine queen on her own, he mused with a sad smile. She can do fine without me.

After a few days, Ayato decided to set out to the next town when a group of bandits cornered a poor whore and tried to fuck her during daylight. Ayato didn't know why he defended her and decided these men should just take him as their prisoner.

He thinks maybe the woman reminded him of Yui and how she was raped by her so-called dead "husband."

So when one of the men recognized him as the exiled prince, they wasted no time mocking him. Instead, they put out both of his hands, the bandit leader watching him to see if he would yield.

He licked his lips in delight. "Tell me, oh great prince. Which hand will we cut off?"

Ayato remained indignant, staring at the pinky on his right hand as his mind remembered the last time he saw Yui and the promise they made. Their skin was covered in nothing but the sheets as the moon illuminated her beauty. She was a sad woman, but she willed herself to be strong as she smiled.

"Promise me, Ayato-kun," she whispered, holding out her pinky to him. Tears were slipping out of her eyes and he brushed his thumb to wipe them off from her cheek.

"There's no need to cry, Chichinashi," he assured, slightly guilty that his love has brought her nothing but pain. "I will always love you. I have your locket, remember?"

"But promise me!" she insisted. "Promise me, that one day, we will be together. I don't care where. I just... want to be with you."

Ayato sighed, holding out his right pinky and entangling it with hers. He leaned his face close, his forehead touching hers.

"I promise Lady Yui of the House Komori, that I, Prince Ayato of the House Sakamaki, will take her, wed her, and be with her until the end of our days."

Because Ayato had been staring for a good while at his right hand, the bandit leader decided to cut it off from him as quick as possible, boasting how he has finally taken the armor of the devil's spawn.

And that's where it led him to his prison cell—starving, cold, wounded, and smelling of piss and shit. They even took Hildbrand from him.

He gritted his teeth, narrow green eyes with a murderous glint.

These fuckers will not make it alive.

He thought of a plan, then he remembered the time when he and Laito first discovered Kanato's fire magic. Kanato stole a book from the private shelf of the castle's library, teaching them how to summon magic. Kanato wanted to learn how to control his fire better and he didn't want his brothers to be left out, so he thought they could try learning a spell or two.

"But you're the only one here with magic," Ayato argued, scrutinizing the Valyrian words on the page that teaches about familiar summoning.

"We're triplets, you know," Kanato pointed out as Laito set up the scarecrows the middle triplet made while their mother wasn't looking. "I'm sure you two can do magic."

"Are you sure about that, Kanato-kun?" Laito inquired, doubtful about his words.

Kanato nodded. "Just repeat after me. You two will be able to use this magic someday. Gūrogon skoros pōnta enkagon."

Ayato and Laito stared at each other, completely distrusting Kanato, but decided to just get on with it.

"Gūrogon skoros pōnta enkagon," they chanted in unison.

And the next thing, a cloud of bats came swarming in the garden, attacking the scarecrows until nothing was left. Ayato and Laito were both stunned, watching Kanato approach the bats and give them fruits as their reward.

"See!" Kanato told them with glee. "I knew you two can do magic."

But Ayato has never used that spell afterward, so he wasn't sure if this will work this time.

"Just repeat after me. You two will be able to use this magic someday."

He sighed.

"Gūrogon skoros pōnta enkagon." (1)

And the next thing there was a rumbling. Ayato heard the men outside his cell confused and scared, then a cloud of bats came swarming into the hideout, filling all the walls with their blood and screams. Some of the bats came to rescue him, licking his open wound so he wouldn't suffer so much from blood loss.

While they were doing so, the bandit leader entered his cell, threatening Ayato with his own sword.

"You did this, you exile bastard!" he yelled, witnessing how more bats were swarming Ayato than usual.

The only reply Ayato gave him was an evil smirk, similar to what he was donning when he cut off his right hand. Having none of his insults, the bandit leader charged at him, alerting the bats who were healing Ayato.

And the next thing, the bats attacked him, sucking the blood out of him and eating his flesh until he was nothing but bones. As the bats were feasting on the bandit leader, Ayato stood up from the floor, picked up his sword, and returned it to his scabbard.

He walked out of his cell, marveling at the view of the dead men while the bats feasted on their leftover food. There was a leftover beer from a mug, and he didn't mind if it was touched or not. So he drank it to his heart's content, slamming down the mug on the table once he was done.

He wiped off his mouth and hummed in satisfaction.

"Nothing beats being alive in this shithole, you fuckers," he said to the dead men in the room.

Well, as if they would know. They're fucking dead, these little pieces of cunt meat.

Afterward, Ayato cleaned himself and stole some of their clothes and their remaining gold bars. He'll head to the next town, get a new arm, and possibly a new army of his own.

After all, he has to take back what is owed to him.

TRANSLATION:

(1) Take what they owe (this is actually the words of the House Sakamaki)

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STORY MASTERLIST

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 17 - Bad Habit [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Everyone needs help sometimes.

Series Masterlist

It wasn’t that there weren’t any spies who didn’t lie to their superiors.

There just weren’t any spies who lied to their superiors and lived to tell the tale, especially on high stakes missions like these.

You tried to convince yourself that the General would never find out, but that wasn’t the only reason why you were freaking out. Putting false information on your report was bad, yes, but the worst part was that you were beginning to find it harder and harder to report whatever information you found out about your fake boyfriend.

For some reason, you had a feeling it wouldn’t just stop at one lie.

Your eyes opened as you snapped out of your sleep all of a sudden and you took a look at the window, but it was still dark outside. That wasn’t the problem, the problem was that you had gone to sleep with Bucky by your side but now you were in an empty bed.

“Bucky?” you whispered into the darkness and sat up in the bed. After kicking off the covers, you made your way to the living room but as soon as you got there, he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at you.

“Hey,” you whispered, “Are you okay? Are the bandages too tight?”

He pressed a hand over his side to check the bandage, then shook his head.

“No, no…” he said, “Did I wake you up?”

“Nope,” you said, “Is the bed too uncomfortable?”

“The opposite.”

You tilted your head “The bed is too…comfortable?”

He let out a small bitter chuckle and ran a hand over his face as you stepped into the room, then sat down on the floor as well.

“I’m not really used to…” he waved a hand to motion around you, “It’s not familiar to be comfortable.”

Ah.

Of course. You should’ve seen it coming, he was a soldier and coming back home was always so hard for soldiers, especially in Bucky’s situation.

You had so many nightmares after bad missions, you had no idea how you would sleep if you had anything close to what he had been through.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked and he shook his head again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I was hoping this wouldn’t happen.”

“Don’t be,” you murmured, “Do you want to be alone?”

“No,” he paused for a moment, “Please stay.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you pushed your hair behind you ear, taking a look at the pillow and the throw on the couch, then grabbed them and put them on the floor.

“Y/N, you’re not sleeping on the floor.”

You rushed to the bedroom to grab your pillows and the blanket off the bed, then went back to the living room.

“What are you doing?”

“It’ll be fun,” you said, putting the pillows and blanket on the floor. “Like we’re outside, only not with…annoying bugs.”

“You’re not serious.”

You plopped down the floor and gave him a bright smile. “I am!”

“Darling….” He started but shook his head with a sigh as you lay on your side, pulling the blanket over your shoulders.

“I’m very stubborn, you’re wasting your time if you’re trying to change my mind,” you informed him and he shot you a small smile, then lay down as well. You entwined your fingers with his, then looked up at the ceiling.

“My virtue is so screwed,” you pointed out, making him huff out a laughter.

“Oh absolutely.”

“I mean, there goes my hopes of…” you trailed off, “White picket fence house and puffy skirts and homemade pies.”

“What, you don’t want them with me?” he asked and your heart skipped a beat, then you stole a look at him.

“Can you even imagine that?”

“Yes I can.”

“I think I picture a movie,” you said, “There’s this….big yard, and white picket fences and we painted the house white but the door is red.  And there’s a dog and— feel free to stop me anytime, Bucky.”

“Don’t,” he smiled as if picturing what you were describing made him happy, “Just keep going.”

“We have a rescue dog,” you said, “We got him from a shelter and named him… um, we named him something funny.”

“Is it a big dog?”

“Yeah and you take him on a run every night. Mornings with me, nights with you.”

“That’s a good schedule.”

“He likes me better.”

“Ouch,” his smile widened, “I don’t blame him.”

You hummed, “And you have a mustache I think.”

He shot you a look, “If you say a Clark Gable mustache…”

“I’m just putting it out there—”

“Nope. Not gonna happen.”

“Fine,” you let out a laugh, “And we have an apple tree in the garden. Wait no— we have an apple tree and a peach tree.”

“How big is the garden?”

“Not so big,” you said, “Like in those movies.”

He paused for a moment and you stole a look at him.

“You wanted a big garden?”

“Well,” he said, “We need a big garden for the treehouse.”

“We have a treehouse?”

“Depends,” he said slowly, as if he was intimidated, “Kids love treehouses.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of having kids with him, for the hundredth time the image of a happier future where you weren’t a spy flashing in front of your eyes. You tried to stop the smile pulling at your lips.

“Yeah,” you said, “I think our kids would love them too.”

You could see the ghost of a smile on his face as he rubbed his thumb over your hand.

“Yeah?”

“Mm hm,” you yawned, “And in summer we would put a bouncy house thing in the garden and we would put a hammock between the peach tree and the apple tree and we would relax there while the kids are wreaking havoc in the bouncy house.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, sleep luring you as you closed your eyes, taking in his scent, “Sounds like a good plan.”

                                                           ***

You really didn’t have time to second guess yourself today. Yes you had lied to the General and spent the whole night with Bucky imagining an impossible future but now, you had to keep your head in the game.

You would figure out what you would do. Eventually.

This was a mission. You had to start acting like it.

“I don’t think I like this one,” you called out from the dressing room and in a second, the door opened to reveal Chloe who raised her brows.

“Wow.”

You tilted your head and stepped outside to look at yourself better. The gold body chain wrapped around the lingerie gleamed under the shop’s bright lights and you fixed the suspenders, clicking your tongue.

“Nah. I don’t think so.”

“Wow,” she said again, “I hate you so much, why do you look so hot in lingerie?”

“Chloe, every woman looks hot in lingerie,” you said as you walked back to the dressing room to try the next lingerie set. It was a red lace bodysuit and after a moment of struggle, you got into it, and opened the door again.

“Not this one either.”

“I can’t believe you’re going to sleep with him!” Chloe squealed, “Are you excited?”

You cleared your throat, “It’s just a mission.”

“Yeah but you want to sleep with him?”

“The dude is hot.”

“Y/N.”

“What?” you fixed your hair and frowned at your reflection, “Nope. I don’t like this. It’s too….meh.”

“I doubt Barnes would say meh if he saw you in this,” she said, “He’d probably pass out. You look like you’re about to grab your whip or something. Oh— Y/N, you should like tie him up or something! If we’re not going full on vintage, show him the modern fun times!”

You shot her a look, “Something tells me he doesn’t like to be tied up Chloe.”

“Why not?”

“Uh, because HYDRA scumbags tied him up a lot and he still has nightmares about it?”

“Ah,” she said, “I forgot about that. Hey, maybe he could tie you up!”

“I’ll tell you the same thing I said to Julian when he suggested I called him sir in bed,” you stated, “No thank you, I don’t do that sub thing.”

“Now I kind of wish we specified your cover’s kinks,” she heaved a sigh, “It’d make things so much easier.”

“My cover likes to be in control.”

“No, real you likes to be in control,” she corrected you, “Nothing about your cover says control.”

“Chloe—“ you started but stopped talking when the shop assistant approached you.

“Do you find it to your liking?”

“Um, not exactly,” you said, “I mean I like the color but overall—“

“Do you have bridal sets?” Chloe cut you off and your eyes widened.

“Easy there.”

“Like maybe soft pastel tones…. The whole thing though, garter belt and stockings and everything.”

“Of course!” she said, “We have some new arrivals, let me bring them here.”

“Chloe!” you whispered as the shop assistant walked away, “What the fuck?”

“Think about the dresses we picked for your cover,” she said, “Soft pastels. It makes sense that your cover would pick those shades in lingerie too.”

“Bridal? Really?”

“I mean, Barnes will want to propose you right there when he sees you in them so…” she grinned at you while you narrowed your eyes at her, “Come on! I’m very curious about how he is in bed.”

You tilted your head, “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” you asked, “Because love triangles are so early 2000s.”

“Hilarious,” she deadpanned, “And no. My type is more—relaxed. Less serious.”

You scoffed and leaned back on the wall, crossing your arms, “You could just say Keith.”

She shifted her weight, biting on her lip. “I mean…” she trailed off, “He still doesn’t make a move though.”

“Why don’t you make a move?”

“I could never!” she gasped, “Nope. Ever. Besides, I thought you were against me dating spies.”

“I am,” you admitted, “But it’s your love life. If you want to date a guy who has an extremely dangerous job and worry about whether or not he will come back to you alive….”

“You’re very romantic, Y/N,” she said as the assistant came closer, holding the set. Even you had to admit, it looked very sexy and beautiful at the same time, with soft pastel lace adorning the fabric, and you took a look at the basque, then walked inside.

“Besides, you’re the one to talk.” Chloe called out as you got into the lingerie, then ran your fingers over the garter belt.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Your boyfriend does dangerous stuff too.”

“Fake boyfriend,” you corrected her, fixing the basque, and as soon as your reflection caught your eye, you raised your brows.

“Okay, maybe you had a point,” you admitted and opened the door, and Chloe grinned at you.

“See,” she said, “This is what I was talking about.”

You smirked at her and leaned on your hip, still looking in the mirror.

“Fine, I like this one.”

“Told you,” she sang and you crossed your arms.

“What dangerous stuff has he been doing lately?”

“He was texting with Wilson about some HYDRA person,” Chloe said, “Apparently they want to go after him. Tonight.”

“What HYDRA person?”

“No clue. And we can’t send a team because then it’ll be obvious— Y/N, I know that look,” she shook her head fervently, “No.”

You tried to look as innocent as possible, “I didn’t say anything.”

“You want to go after the same HYDRA person as them, but you have specific orders and we still haven’t got the okay from the top of the chain of command to go after that scum.”

“Chloe.”

“No. I’m not going to give you the address.”

“Well if Barnes ends up dead, I won’t have a mission will I?”

“He’s going to be fine, he fights better than you.”

You gasped, “How dare you?”

“He fights better than everyone in the division!” she insisted, “He can take care of himself.”

You pouted, “Fine,” you said, “I guess I won’t give Keith the idea of taking you out on a date then.”

She paused for a moment, “That’s bribery.”

“Uh huh.”

“You have no shame, do you?”

You motioned at the lingerie set you were in, “Does it look like it?”

She rubbed at her eye and let out a small whine.

“If my dad asks—“

“He’s not going to know.”

“Do you promise to behave?”

“I always behave,” you stated, making her snort.

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Please?” you asked, “I promise I’ll be safe. I’ll just make sure he’s alive, that’s it. I won’t get involved in anything.”

“You promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

Chloe pursed her lips. “For your information, I think picnics are romantic.”

“Dully noted,” you said, “Trust me, he will take you on a picnic. So, do we have a deal?”

She rolled her eyes, then nodded, making you let out a laugh and walk back to the changing room.

“I want candles on that picnic too!”

“Send me the list of your demands,” you called out, “I’ll make sure they’re all covered.”

                                                      ***

In all honesty, Chloe was terrible at saying no to people, especially the people she loved.

You fixed your ski mask as you took a look at the text Bucky had sent you after you asked him what he was doing;

Nothing much, going home soon. You?  

“Liar liar….” You sang as you typed your reply.

Soup Kitchen was so tiring, I think I’ll go to bed early tonight.

Fine. Maybe he wasn’t the only liar in this relationship.

You took a look at the building’s window through your binoculars, then lowered them to check your phone when it vibrated.

Good idea. Sweet dreams darling.

You tried to ignore the smile on your lips but as soon as you heard gunshots coming from the building, your head shot up.

“Shit,” you murmured and tried to see what was happening, but it was impossible. Whoever they were, they were definitely staying away from windows.

“Not gonna get involved,” you muttered, “Not gonna get involved, it’s stupid and puts the mission in danger. I’ll stay right here, he can take care of himself.”

For about five seconds, it worked.

“I’m being stupid,” you mumbled to yourself as you grabbed the gear around your waist, then checked whether it would actually carry you, “I’m being so fucking stupid, I haven’t even slept with the dude yet….”

You went over to the edge of the rooftop, then took a deep breath, grabbed the cables and jumped to crash through the window of the building the gunshots were coming from. You pulled your gun to shoot the person who looked like he was about to shoot Bucky, sending him to the ground and Bucky pushed the guy he was fighting with through the wall, then turned around to point the gun at you but as soon as he did, he frowned.

“….Shrike?”

“Hi handsome.” You unbuckled the rope from the harness, sending it up to the rooftop again as he lowered his gun. “Need a hand?”

Chapter 18

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter four rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peter’s greatest love and Spiderman’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

After eating dessert and saying goodbye to May, Peter walked you to your room like a proper gentleman.

“You really don’t have to walk me home. I live right across that hall.” You teased him as you leaned against your door. You were glad he did, though. You wanted to spend every minute you could with him.

“I know, but I wanted to make sure you got in okay.” Peter said shyly. “You never know what dangers can be lurking in a hallway. Henry could’ve been around here and you and your feet would’ve been defenseless. You think I could live with myself if something happened to you?”

You laughed loudly and took your time unlocking your door, partially to extend your time together and partially to hide your massive blush.

“Thanks for dinner, Parker. I had a good time.” You said slowly as you fixed his collar.

“I had a moderately alright time.” He said nonchalantly. You laughed at his joke and shoved him a little.

“Fine. I had an amazing time.” He answered honestly. “We should do this again.”

The hope in his eyes knocked you out.

“Definitely.” You agreed. “But at my place next time.”

“Deal.” He stood there for a moment, just staring at you. You stared back, seeing the pale freckles on his nose and around his eyes. The longer you look at Peter, the better he got.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Peter said finally. You sighed softly and looked him over.

Parting really is such sweet sorrow.

“Goodnight Peter.” You answered. You gave each other one more giggly smile before you closed the door, completely missing the victory dance Peter did in the hallway.

“Alright. You ate. Now it’s our turn. Let’s go eat some assholes.” Venom cheered once you were alone.

“You couldn’t have phrased that in a worse way.” You grimaced as you set your keys down.

“I mean, let’s go eat some men who are assholes.” Venom corrected herself.

“Alright alright. Let’s go.” You walked to the window. “But, they have to be a total asshole. We can’t just eat a dick.”

“And you think what we said was bad? Listen to yourself.” Venom retorted.

“I heard it. I meant we have to eat someone who is really, really bad. Not just some random jerk.” You defended.

“Whatever. Let’s go. Your liver is starting to look really, really juicy.” Venom warned. With that, you climbed out the window and prowled the streets of New York.

It wasn’t long before you found a man harassing a woman near a local bar. They were both tipsy, but she seemed drunker than he was. He kept putting his hands on her, despite her protests. Every time she tried to push him away, he’d only try harder.

“Come on baby.” He purred.

“Leave me alone. I don’t want you.” The woman slurred as she pushed him away.

“Yes you do. You wouldn’t have worn that tight dress if you didn’t.” The man said.

Ah yes, logic.

When she ignored his comment, he angrily pushed her against a wall and covered her mouth.

“Asshole?” Venom asked you.

“Asshole.” You confirmed. You and Venom did your usual tactic. You’d start off as you and kindly ask the gentleman to leave the lady alone. When all else fails, you became Venom and ate the bad guy.

You and Venom weren’t cold blooded killers. If a problem could be solved with words, you would do it that way. But there are a lot of bad men on the streets who don’t take no for an answer.

And you catch bad men.

You tore the man away from the lady and she ran away screaming when she saw you as Venom. Most people do. At least she was safe. The man on the other hand suddenly lost his tough guy stamina and resulted to begging for his life.

“Should we eat them?” Venom asked you, loud enough for the man to hear. You did that little thing when half your face was Venom and half your face was you.

People get a real kick out of it.

“No.” You cooed. “They probably taste terrible.”

The man cowered away, begging you to leave.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again.” He pleaded.

“I never much liked the taste of perverts.” Venom snarled.

“Me either. Plus, he’s so puny. He’s probably disgusting.” You agreed.

You were dragging the man along. He was definitely getting eaten, no doubt about it. At least, there was no doubt, up until you heard the sound of feet landing on the pavement behind you.

“Hey, big guy, didn’t anyone ever tell you that people are friends, not food?” A young, muffled voice sounded. Spider-Mans eyes grew comically wide when Venom turned around.

“What are you?” He gasped. You could hear the terror in his voice. Under his mask, he was probably trembling. He sounded so young and terrified.

“We…are venom.” You answered as you snarled at him.

Never gets old.

“Hi Venom.” Spider-Man took a step back in fear, legs shaking slightly. “I’m Spiderman.”

The man took this as an opportunity to get up and run. You quickly ran after him, but you were suddenly covered in a sticky white substance. It wrapped around your legs and you fell to the ground. From the floor, you could see the man getting away.

“I can’t take credit for that. I got that from this really old movie, The Empire Strikes back. It works every time.” Spider-Man panted as he ran over to you.

You decided you had enough of this and easily broke out of the sticky stuff. You grabbed the unsuspecting Spider-Man by the throat and lifted him up by his neck. You could hear the sounds of him choking through his mask, and looses your grip. You weren’t a monster, but you weren’t a superhero either. Spiderman had let a bad guy get away and you could only hope you scared him enough not to do it again.

“You let him go.” You growled as you got in his face. Spider-Man hit the hand around his throat in an attempt to break free, making Venom smile. His feet were dangling off the ground. He was defenseless.

“You can’t eat people.” He choked out, gasping for air.

“We can and we will.” Venom growled. “Since you let our dinner get away, looks like you’ll have to take his place. We hope you taste better than you look, Spiderman.”

“Please don’t eat me. I’m just a kid.” Spider-Man begged. Venom tried to keep going, but you pulled back.

“Venom, put him down. We can find someone else. We can’t eat this guy. He’s too young.” You said calmly and prayed Venom would listen. Spider-Man was right. He was just a kid. He had pissed you off, but that didn’t mean he had to die.

“We don’t want anyone else. We want him”. Venom answered. Spider-Man looked confused, seeing as he could only hear Venoms part of the conversation.

“Put him down. His suit probably tastes terrible anyway. Let’s go find someone else. How about we go find a smoker to eat? You know how much you love to eat smokers.” You argued as you felt her grip loosen.

“They taste like barbecue.” Venom replied, feeling her mouth watering.

“Let’s go.” You insisted. “He’s not worth it.”

“Fine.” Venom grouched and threw Spider-Man against a wall. Spider-Man began to cough and clutch his throat. Venom stormed over to him and grabbed his head, making him look at you.

“If you ever bother us again, we are going to eat both of your arms, then both of your legs, and then we are going to eat your face. Do you understand?”

“We?” was all Spider-Man could get out.

“We.” Venom repeated. “Me and my girl. She saved your life tonight. Don’t except it to happen again. Next time, you’re dead.” Venom warned. With that, you ran away into the night, leaving Spider-Man behind.

After eating a man you saw steal money out of multiple homeless peoples cups, you climbed up the apartment building and sat on the ledge of the roof. You transformed back into yourself and watched as the sun made its way up the horizon.

“What are you doing up here?” You heard a familiar Queens accent from behind you. You smiled immediately and turned around.

“Are you stalking me Parker?” You teased as a bashful smile broke across his face. He looked ethereal in the early morning sunshine so you bit your tongue to keep from giggling.

He was too damn cute.

“You’ve got it the wrong way around. I lived here first. This had been my spot for years now. You’re the one stalking me.” Peter remarked. His voice sounded horse, like he had strained it. He moved slowly, almost as if he was in pain, as he swung his legs over the ledge and took a seat next to you. Your thighs just barely touched, but enough to send sparks though your body.

“Is this really your spot? I’ll leave if you want.” You offered, but Peter put his hand on your shoulder to keep you from getting up.

“It’s our spot now.” He said matter of factly. The sun light up his profile and you could see how tired his eyes were. You wondered what late night adventures kept Peter Parker awake. Peter stared out into the New York City skyline and sighed with content. A gentle breeze blew his brown locks and ruffled your clothing.

Everything was quiet. Everything was good.

“Are you an orphan?” You blurted before smacking your hand over your mouth.

You almost jumped off the roof right there. And you probably should’ve. No, actually, Peter should’ve pushed you off. It’s what you deserved. Who the HELL asks someone you just met that question? Who asks that question at all? Does anyone even use the term “orphan” anymore? Is this Annie? All these questions swarmed through your head as your cheeks managed to burn the brightest shade of red they ever had. Peter snapped his head to you and tried to say something but you cut him off.

“I only ask because…well, I am.” You admitted. “An orphan, I mean. And I saw the pictures in your apartment with the candle and you kinda have that…orphan look to you. No offense! It’s not a bad thing either. I probably have the same look. Plus, you live with your aunt and I didn’t see anyone else come home. Of course, maybe they just weren’t home the one night I was over. Not that it’s any of my business anyway. I’m sorry I asked. It was a dumb, dumb question and I’m a dumb, dumb person and I-“

Your excessive rambling was cut off by a soft chuckles on Peters part. You looked at him confused as it wasn’t the response you expected.

“You’re not dumb. You took down Carlton Drake at 19 years old with no help. I wouldn’t call that person dumb. I’d call her brave, smart, even heroic.” Peter complimented you. “And all the best heroes are orphans. So to answer your question…there was a question in there somewhere right? I think so. Yes, I am an orphan. I live with my Aunt May. I used to live with my Uncle Ben too but he passed away.”

“Your uncle was Ben Parker.” You realized. “I should’ve known. May mentioned his name at dinner. I remember hearing about the shooting. All my friends and I created a club in school to protest the lack of gun regulation in America after that. I’m so sorry, Peter.”

“I really appreciate you doing that. I’m really upset over the lack of gun regulation too.” He was quiet for a moment. “My Uncle Ben used to write too. He was always trying to get me to write for the school newspaper. It wasn’t my thing though. I prefer taking pictures and videos. You’re a really good writer, Y/N. My Uncle Ben would’ve loved you.” Peter said earnestly. You smiled at Peter and scooted closer to him.

“Thank you for saying that. I bet I would’ve loved him too.” You told him. Peter looked down at his hands which were dangerously close to yours. You weren’t bold enough to hold his hand, though you desperately wanted to. Instead, you put your head on his shoulder and looked out at the sunrise. It was a simple, innocent gesture. You were both awkward and knew it. It was the safest thing you could do without something going terribly wrong. Peter rested his head on top of yours and sighed.

“I didn’t know you were an orphan.” He said softly, not wanting to disturb the peace. You nodded, still nestled in his neck.

“My mom died a few minutes after giving birth to me.” You opened up to him, something you hadn’t done with anyone before. “I’m not sure what went wrong but they had to do an emergency C-section. I survived, but she didn’t.”

You got quiet for a moment.

“She never even got to hold me.”

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Peter whispered. He gingerly laced his fingers with yours. You watched as he did it and didn’t try to stop him.

“It’s weird.” You shrugged. “I never knew her, but I miss her everyday. I wish we could’ve had a conversation. Just one would be enough.” Your mom wasn’t something you often talked about. It was too painful to relive the past so you hadn’t even told Andy the full story.

But you felt safe with Peter.

“You don’t have to have known her to miss her.” Peter insisted. “I bet she misses you too and she never met you either.”

“What were your parents names?” You changed the topic as you rubbed his hand softly with your thumb.

“Richard And Mary. Richard and Mary Parker.” He answered proudly. “I write them letters all the time. I put them in an envelope and everything. Then I put them in a box in my closet. I like to think the read them.”

“I bet they do.” You told him while squeezing his hand gently. In that moment, you could’ve sworn he was yours. Like you were an actual couple that had been through hell and back together. Like you’d know him all my life. Peter looked you in the eyes and for the first time, someone really saw you.

The real you, and he didn’t turn away. His brown eyes stared right down into your soul. You felt insecure suddenly, your soul wasn’t a pretty place to see. Certainly not pretty enough for Peter Parker. But Peter didn’t seem to mind.

You got this feeling all the sudden, this feeling that told you you and Peter were meant to meet. That you were always meant to be in each other’s lives. To protect and love each other, like real people do. Peter didn’t feel like a stranger. He wasn’t someone you met on accident. You were destined to be. Just be. No matter what you were. This rooftop didn’t feel like a place you’d never been before. This rooftop felt like home. And Peter made it feel that way. Or maybe it wasn’t the rooftop that felt like home, it was just Peter. Your cheeks burned up when you realized what was happening. Your heart fluttered and your lungs felt like they were in fire.

You knew it. Every fiber of your being knew it. All your senses came alive at once and in that moment, on that rooftop, your heart looked into Peters and said those two words,

“Welcome home”

[bokettochild]

Day 4 - Trust Fall

Went with the prompt 'taken hostage' for this one, and I'm quite pleased. I might follow it up from another prompt on the list, but I quite like how it ended.

Suffer :)

There are many people who hate the Hero of Warriors.

It was a well-known fact, and something that had haunted him since the ends of the war, but he couldn’t exactly blame the folks who did. After all, it was for lust of the hero that Cia had killed so many, and there were families all across Hyrule who had lost loved ones because the hero had refused the affections of one lonely, corrupted woman.

Zelda had tried to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but that changed nothing; people had still died because of Cia’s lust, and still more had died because of his own over-confidence. So, when he walked the streets of Castletown and the people who wanted to thank him faded to the background as a single soul would stand and spit insults loaded with venom more poisonous than a deku baba, he would take their words and let them speak, never once challenging them, even when his men would protest and beg for permission to reprimand his attacker. Zelda had pleaded for him to stop, claiming that he lowered the moral of the army by not carrying himself strongly and with honor, but how could he rob someone of their voice when he’d already robbed them of everything else?

There was one upside to it all though; when Warriors met Legend, there was nothing the younger hero could say that could truly hurt him. Legend would huff and complain and tease and jab, but his insults were a gentle nudge in comparison to the hearty shoves into boiling lava that he’d seen from his own people, and he welcomed the verbal sparring with the other hero. It was nice to be able to speak back without having guilt rise in his chest, and he enjoyed getting to tease and bother the veteran hero in return.

In that manner, an unlikely friendship had formed between a hero who hated soldiers and a soldier who hated being a hero.

He was close to all of the others of course; Sky, Wild and himself would spend hours discussing their worlds and the systems of knights and training and the like. Time and Wind, his boys and the pride of his heart, would mess around with him and it warmed him body and soul to offer them advice or comfort after a long day (and having the two of them cuddle up when they thought no one was looking was an extra warm bonus on multiple fronts).

Four was- well, there was no words for the relationship he shared with the smithy. It was a relationship of exchanged looks and mutual silence. One of two brothers who knew each other as well as if they’d actually been born to the same mother, and who could read the others actions as if they were reading their thoughts. It was them flopping over each other and Four climbing onto his shoulders to reach things, it was him throwing the smithy bodily up towards high places and leaning on the top of his head when he was drained or feeling playful.

Wild and Hyrule were his baby brothers, the chaotic ones who he was helping to bring up right, the boys who needed a guiding hand and a firm voice to push them and guide them, but who reveled in warm hugs and teasing or encouraging words.

And Twilight? Twilight was his sparring partner, his closest brother and the one he’d probably end up socking in the face one day. There was enough said on that front. Legend very nearly made the same rank, except...

Except Legend was, truth be told, as much a kid as the others and despite their verbal battles, he didn’t think he could actually ever hit the kid for real, no matter how often he cuffed the pink head or pushed the short vet over in jest, he didn’t think he could ever cause the younger hero harm. Yeah, yeah, so maybe it was the big brother and father in him that said he wouldn’t live with himself if he hurt the kid, but it was also the soldier and captain that saw a reflection of every cocky recruit he’d ever trained and a certain mask wearing child in the vet’s painfully rare smiles and much more common snarky comments.

And he just couldn’t bring himself to hurt a kid in the first place.

No matter how much of an ass they were being.

“Seriously though, how have you not died?” Legend was scoffing, but the vet’s arms were wrapped tight around himself as the kid rolled his eyes. “I mean, one bokoblin? How is that the first time an enemy has ever grabbed your scarf?”

Warriors would have laughed it off with a tease about the vet’s lack of leg protection, but he could see the worry shining in violet hues and feel the tender bruising that wrapped around his own neck. He hardly remembered the last battle, adrenalin and the concussion had seen to that, but legend had been weirdly snappish with him since, yet simultaneously clingy in a way that was painfully uncharacteristic of their salty veteran. “Most monsters are just dumb.” He’d shrugged off at last, but Legend hardly looked contented, picking at his tunic and scowling at his boots as if there was something more he wanted to complain about or say, but he lacked the words to say it.

Oh goddesses, the vet really was like Mask, wasn’t he? All bashful worry and fussing disguised as insults and annoyance, but underneath just a kid who desperately needed the assurance that the people around him weren’t seconds away from death.

“I’ll be fine, you grouchy little bumblebee.” He scoffed, tugging at one of the vet’s long ears, just as he did with Time when the now older hero was getting to wrapped up in his head. “We’re in my world anyway and the monsters here are dumber than rocks.” Usually he’d just say ‘dumb as rocks’ but they’d met a talus in Wild’s Hyrule and he couldn’t honestly think of that phrase the same way since.

“Black blood makes them smarter.” Legend huffed, batting his hands away with a scowl, nose wrinkling up in an almost adorable manner as he sidestepped a swipe at his hair. “And I just fixed that thing for you, I don’t want to have to do that again.”

So much like Time had been, did the vet see it? Just like his middle kid and it was messing with his brain in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. How upset would Sky be if he gathered Legend in amongst his boys as well? The Skyloftian wasn’t particularly possessive of his descendants and he might not mind sharing responsibility over the vet. He’d have to ask, but only once he was sure Legend was out of earshot, the kid was barely tolerant of Sky coddling him, and even then, usually only when he was sleepy or scared shitless.

“Are you listening, Captain? I’m not mending that scarf again this week, you ass.” Legend flicked his ears, irritation at being ignored coloring his face with a scowl that quickly faded into surprise as a blue heap of fabric settled over his head and shoulders. Of course, the surprise disappeared too once Legend’s face was covered with the tail end of the scarf, and he had to grab the back of the vet’s tunic to stop him from tumbling to the ground as he tripped over the rocky path.

“What the heck, Wars?!” The teen squeaked, fumbling with the fabric as the captain let a laugh rumble up through his chest into his throat.

“You keep fussing about the scarf, yeah? Well,” He reached out to tug the loose end down, chest thrumming with warmth as the pout on Legend’s face beneath the scarf and a fierce blush. “So how about you keep it safe for me, just for a bit.” He shifted the fabric again, arranging it to lay better around the veteran’s thin shoulders. “You can give it back after the next battle, yeah? Then you’ll know it’s not damaged.”

The pink-haired hero rolled his eyes at that comment, but Wars didn’t miss how the kid nestled in amidst the blue fabric with a soft hum.

Oh yeah, despite all the teasing, it was clear Legend liked the scarf as much as his other boys. He hoped Sun and Sky didn’t mind sharing too much, because there was no going back now.

“Dramatic arse.” Legend huffed, but despite the vet tugging the scarf up over his nose and mouth he still saw the grin the lay beneath.

Somewhere behind him, he could hear Time and Wind exchanging whispers while Twilight grumbled something exceedingly rude and fond all at once.

“Should we split up to find supplies then?” Sky asked, pointedly ignoring Twilight’s comment as he addressed the group as a whole, earning a thoughtful nod from Time.

“Probably best.” The man hummed out. “Groups of three, Hyrule and Wind, you’re with the vet, Four and Sky, you’re with Wars, Cub, Pup, I want you two with me, if something happens I want a responsible adult on every team, as well as someone who knows this Castletown well.”

Agreement thrummed over them as they split up, Wind catching his party members by their hands and pulling them off towards the tailor and apothecary shops so Legend could restock on thread and fabric and Hyrule could gather more healing supplies. Time’s group turned the opposite way, heading off into the main market square so Wild could restock on food stuffs and a new haversack for the traveler as Hyrule’s had had a hole worn in the corner that even Four doubted he could fix. Warriors himself led his team towards the fletchers and the forge, with the intent of buying more arrows and getting Four permission to repair a few of their weapons.

The chatter of the town was cheerier than usual, and to his surprise, not a single person spoke to him beyond the occasional inquiry about directions or an apology or insult after bumping into them. It was like he was invisible, or very nearly, and even those who made a point of calling out thanks or insults only waved cheerily to him as if he was just another passing soldier.

At the smithy, the Master Smithy, Gaepak, blinked in surprise for a good minute when Wars had approached to ask for use of the workroom. “Gen’ral? Is ‘at yew?”

He cocked a brow at the question. “Yes? Is there a problem?”

Gaepak boomed a nervous laugh, motioning to his own short neck with a faint flush on his face as his ears twitched lightly. “’Ard to tell you apart from yer men wit’out that scaaf of yers.” The man apologized, and the apprentice at the blacksmith’s side nodded nervously.

He couldn’t help back slip into a disarming smile (although he had to fight not to slip into their heavy accent as well when he spoke). “Quite alright, gentlemen. I’ve just let it out to one of-”

“Yer boys.” the smith nodded knowingly, earning a snigger from their own short-statured smithy and a light chuckle from Sky.

Warriors flushed slightly. Really, the people of Castletown knew him too well. “Yes, one of my boys.”

“An’ a moighty fine father ye are.” Gaepak drawled with a grin. “Use the forge ta yer ‘eart’s content.” The smith added, moving back to his own workstation with a cheery wink. “Jist moind ye clean it up when ya done.”

Four had shouted something of a reassurance before moving to the offered work station with shining hazel eyes and fingers already flitting over the available tools to familiarize himself with them. In the meantime, Sky had shot him a knowing smile, eyes twinkling as the captain had flushed softly.

Four was deep into his work and the two of them had already finished a lengthily talk and a trip to the fletchers when Wind and Hyrule had burst in, heavy breaths heaving through the two and a healthy flush over two sets of rounded cheeks as wild eyes had turned to the two adults.

“Wind, you can’t bust into a forge! Four shouted over the clang of metal. “It’s dang-”

“Legend was kidnapped.” Wind blurted out, voice strained and barely holding onto the collected and controlled report method Warriors had drilled into all of his soldiers during the war.   Four’s hammer froze mid-air as the three had whipped around to face the two younger heroes, both knights stiffening instinctively as all laughter left their faces.

“What happened.” Warriors demanded, stepping forwards, jaw set and eyes hard as he met the sailor’s wavering gaze.

The aura of peace faded in instants, and soldier met the eyes of soldier as Wind snapped a neat salute. Unnecessary, yes, but trained into the kid by the other soldiers and probably a comforting sort of habit to revert to in the moment (Warriors felt the same about standing at parade rest as he listened to the kid’s report). “We were just entering the apothecary when a couple of folks approached Legend outside the door. He waved us inside to do our business while they talked, and Hyrule and I did as he asked. We gathered the needed supplies- that doesn’t matter though- the point is, when we were at the counter ringing up-”

“There was shouting outside!” Hyrule interrupted, fingering the strap of his faded satchel. “We thought it was just Legend being Legend, you know how he is but-”

“But then there was something of a scuffle and some bangin-”

“- and when we finished at the counter, because the man wouldn’t hurry up and refused to let us leave ‘till we’d been rung up-”

“Legend was gone!” Wind exploded, eyes shining with near panic as they met his own.

“Where were you exactly?” Wars demanded, mind already flitting across the list of people who were likely to have taken the vet. There weren’t many people the kid would have interacted with here, especially not alone, and saving the soldiers he’d accidentally embarrassed a couple of switches back (kid needed to wear some pants if he didn’t want to mistook for a girl) there wasn’t anyone he could really think of that would have cause to try anything. Sure, Legend’s winning personality might earn him a blow to the face from some of the rowdier townsfolk, but at worst he’d be left on the street on in an alley with a bruised face and a fractured rib or two, not taken away entirely.

As he considered, Four was already tidying up behind him only to have Gaepak wave them off with a worried look. “Moi boys will see to this ‘ere mess, don’t botha. Yew got a kid missin’ you go fetch ‘im, goodness knows Gen’ral that yew don’t need to be suff’rin’ that again.”

It was a bitter reminder, but he’d nodded his thanks all the same and grabbed ahold of Wind’s hand as he led the charge back into the street, Hyrule and Sky tagging along as Four made arrangements to come back later for the still cooling weapons before scampering out after them.

Searching Castletown’s streets would take hours, but after they’d run into one of his men, Bav, he’d filled the soldier in on the situation, and hardly had the words ‘my kid’ been out of his mouth before the other was nodding and agreeing to get the rest of the squadron to search the town. They’d found the others not long after, and the trio had dropped everything (even Wild’s slate for a hot second) to come rushing after them, their now two groups weaving in and out of alleyways and streets.

“Your wife?” A painfully familiar farm-wife had tutted. “First your poor daughter and now your poor wife. I’m sorry, luv, but I haven’t seen a thing.” Wind had crooked a smile at the groan Warriors had barely stifled as he led their group away, Sky and Hyrule both staring at the duo in confusion as they pressed further into the crowd.

Continued asking had brought up nothing, and after hours of trotting through the streets in a growing panic, Sky at his side and Hyrule nearly fluttering along with them, they’d finally been pulled aside by one of the soldiers and made to sit down in a guard-station long enough to drink some water and be caught up on the soldiers’ findings.

“Nothing yet, General Link, but we’ll keep looking. Until then, you should take a rest-” He’d moved to protest only to be cut off by a frown from one of his mates. “You’ll be run ragged by the time we hear word, and if the scamps intend harm of any sort, you’ll be in no state to help.”

He’d had to agree after that, but it hadn’t stopped him pacing while Sky held the other two close, rocking them softly and humming soft reassurances to the two smaller heroes that he’d bundled in his cape. The other four joined shortly after, Time demanding that Bav tell him what was happening and Twilight bundling over to grab Hyrule from Sky and curl up around him, the rancher’s nose buried in Hyrule’s curls as Four had settled between him and Sky, the smithies callused hands gently rubbing both their arms as he murmured soft reassurances to the others.

It was Wild that pulled him down to rest, flinty blue eyes sparking dangerously as the kid pulled him down to the ground and thrust something edible into his hands. Vaguely, he processed eating it, but his mind was too lost in spinning to take note if it was hot or cold or even what it tasted like.

When word finally came, it was with Bav’s face drawn and the entire guard having had to leave the post in wake of the nervous energy that flowed out from the exhausted heroes.

“Well?” He’d snapped to his feet, jostling Wild on accident as he did so and making the kid nearly toppled over with his sudden movement.

“An ultimatum, General.” Bav replied, clipped and carefully emotionless, even if there was pain in his eyes. “It’s addressed to General Impa, but-”

The note was snatched from waiting fingers before the other soldier had a chance to finish, and he was already breaking the seal as the man stepped back with a shake of his head and a murmured ‘poor man’.

The text that stared up at him stank, copper assaulting his senses as looping crimson script stared mockingly up at him. “General Impa,” The note read. “We have in our possession your branded puppet; the ‘hero’ of the war. We write to you now with a warning; should Hyrule and her queen not repay the debt owed to those fallen and forgotten, he will not be the first to pay the price.

“Repay that which is due, and release the prisoners who you hold unjustly under the claim of treachery. If this is done, your ‘hero’ will meet a kinder fate, and we may even allow you access to the corpse.”

The note was left unsigned, save a spattering of blood over where the signature ought to have been.

“A threat.” He choked, furrowing his brow and shaking his head. “It’s only a threat.”

“I wish, sir.” Bav’s eyes were downcast. “But they sent this as well.” A bundle, already unwrapped by the soldiers was offered to him. “But based on your description, that kid- I'm sorry, Sir.”

Trembling fingers tore aside the stained brown paper as he stared at the contents within.

A blood-soaked blue scarf stared back up at him.

[phoenixyfriend]

Rex and Anakin Raise a Family: Part Two

Part One

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

Anakin takes the news with... not grace, really, but an odd sort of resignation.

"Room to fix things," he mutters to himself, eyes set unseeing on Luke's tiny form.

Twins are often born smaller than single births, Rex remembers hearing somewhere. He hopes that's the only reason these two are so small. Leia feels absolutely minuscule in his arms.

He wishes he could ask Kix.

"Do you want to find Jango?"

Rex lifts his head to find Anakin staring at him with an earnest kind of depression. It's strange, and sad, and not helping with the question. "What?"

"You... you grew up with a lot of family," Anakin mutters, eyes cutting away to the side. "Fett would be a kid right now, yeah? He's... young. And you don't have the family that you used to have, but--"

"I'm not going to go out and find Fett to adopt him," Rex says firmly. "He was a genetic donor and once or twice a teacher. I have no interest in forming any bonds there."

He hesitates, but that was--Anakin was trying. Not succeeding, but trying. "Thank you for asking. It's... maybe if my childhood had been a little different, I'd have wanted that. But I don't, here."

Anakin winces. "Right."

Rex watches his general bounce a newborn, and thinks this is my life now.

There is no GAR to fight for, no brothers to save, no Empire to fight against. They'd thought there would be, but there isn't, not yet. They could find and warn the Jedi, but none of them would know Anakin. Nobody is going to look at Rex and see a clone. He's older than Fett, now.

"We're staying here," Rex decides. Anakin looks up from Luke's little face. "I'll figure out how to get us some Republic Idents. We'll get the twins registered. This planet is safe and out of the way, and we can figure something out for the money. You're a good mechanic, that's honest work, and I'm... I don't know. We've got a ship, so I can maybe do what Fett did and take bounty work. We'll figure something out."

"I can't ask you to stay with me."

"You're not asking," Rex says firmly. "I'm telling you. You don't get to push me away, sir. We're all the other has left, and you're not getting rid of me that easily."

"Okay," Anakin says. "If that's what you want."

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

They don't have a whole lot of money personally, but this was Padme's ship. She'd been rich, and prone enough to danger to know the worth of hiding money where she could. They may not have more than a few weapons on here, but they have money.

For now.

Rex knows his general is itching to go to Tatooine, sees the man muttering and twitching about it, needing to do something, and that the something has to do with Tatooine.

"Can it wait?" Rex asks.

Anakin stares at him, uncomprehending.

"Your kids are only a week old," Rex tries to explain. "They need you right now. Is this something that can wait a few months, where I can watch them while you take a week or two to handle what you need to do?"

Anakin takes Leia from Rex, and doesn't bring it up again.

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

Rex goes with Anakin, when they visit the nurse. He catches gossip about the two of them, but people don't go out of their way to approach. Mostly, people are just repeating the 'died in childbirth' cover that he gave before, telling each other who the strangers are, and why they shouldn't try to get involved.

The nurse asks only enough questions to get a medical baseline established for the twins. Anakin doesn't volunteer much, and when the Twi'lek woman asks if they'd like her to set up medical files for either of them, Rex has to immediately decline.

He has no idea what his blood is going to turn up. Genetic fuckery and something to deal with the advanced aging, maybe. He's not sure he wants to know, but either way, it's probably not going to be something this small clinic can handle.

"I'll have to set one up if you want to take the lactation aid," she tells Anakin.

"Yeah, okay."

She takes blood. Almost everything is mostly normal, except.

"Your midichlo--"

"I know."

"Are you--"

"Jedi aren't allowed to marry."

She doesn't dig further, just glances at how Anakin's holding Luke, and nods.

"It doesn't seem like there are any complicating factors. I can write up a prescription right now and you should be able to get it filled same-day. There will be a list of instructions and side-effects on flimsi when you pick it up, but I'd like to go over it in person first. Do you want Mr. Torrent to stay here with you as we do that, or to wait in the hall?"

"Up to him."

"I'll stay," Rex promises.

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

Three pills a day, one with every meal. Tissue stimulation by massaging the pectoral area, and allowing the twins to suckle even before there's anything to actually drink. Expect soreness and increased appetite, don't drink caffeine or take any form of stimulant while nursing. Here's a list of possible side-effects, the best way to handle the minor ones, and which ones to contact a medical professional about.

All very normal.

Anakin's rarely ever done anything with less than his whole heart, and Rex isn't surprised to know that Anakin is this dedicated a parent as well. He's... he was proud to serve his general, but he thinks there's something just as fulfilling as being by his side here and now. There's something better about helping raise the little ones that would never be found on a battlefield.

"Do you want them to call you Uncle Rex?" Anakin asks during a feeding. "Or... ba'vodu? Or do you want to just..."

"Just what?"

"...we're going to be co-parenting," Anakin says, not meeting his eyes. "And every time I try to suggest you go and find something for yourself, something that doesn't revolve around me, a person you were literally tube-grown for, you say you don't want to leave. So if you're going to be sticking around, really staying for years and years... we could tell them to call you buir. If you want."

"Oh."

Oh.

It's a lot. It's something Rex has maybe fantasized about before, getting to be a parent instead of just a soldier, but he'd also resigned himself to the fact that it wasn't really an option. Even now, he'd just expected to be a friend of the father, maybe an honorary uncle if he was lucky, or--

"Are you sure?" Rex asks, before he can start to hope. "I don't--I don't want to take Padme's place."

"You're not," Anakin says, fierce as anything. "You won't--nobody can ever take her place, but there are people with five parents, or none, and I'm not going to--I don't want to--"

Anakin squeezes his eyes shut and breathes harshly for a few moments. Leia fusses, like she's seconds away from crying, and Rex watches as his general holds the child in his arms closer to his chest, visibly focusing on calming down in a way he rarely, if ever, had during the war.

"It's okay, Papa just got a little upset, it's fine, we're calm, I'm sorry I got sad, honey, I'm sorry you had to feel that," Anakin whispers under his breath as he bounces the baby.

(Raising Force-Sensitive children was never going to be easy anyway.)

"You're sure about this?" Rex asks again.

"You want to be involved in their lives," Anakin mutters. "So... yeah, you should get to be their dad in name, too. And if you use Mando'a, it'll be easier for them to have different names for us."

"People are going to think we're together."

Anakin shrugs. "People think a lot of things."

Rex wants this. He wants to imagine the twins toddling up to him, grins on their faces, calling him buir and meaning it. He wants to have what he saw at the Lawquane's, where a lack of blood connection and a half-sliced age hadn't stopped those children from claiming Cut as their father. He's only thirteen, technically, but he wants to have a family, even if it's as broken as what they've found here.

"I'd be honored, sir," Rex says. "I... thank you. I can't tell you how much this means to me."

"You don't have to," Anakin mutters, refusing to meet his eyes. "I can feel it."

Right.

"They already love you," Anakin continues, as if his goal today is to just smash Rex's decorum to pieces. "Part of that is just baby stuff, I think; they don't exactly know more than us yet, but you're around them all the time and are primary caregiver whenever I'm not... not okay. So they love you, so much, and I just... I'm not going to ignore that when you already love them too. So you should get to be their dad. If you want."

He does want.

"I'd like that," he says, and knows that he hasn't bothered shielding in days, so Anakin knows just how sincere that is.

Anakin hesitates, visibly so, and then stands and crosses the room to join Rex on the couch, each of them holding a twin.

A head rests lightly on Rex's shoulder. He lets it.

"There are rites," Anakin says quietly. "On Tatooine, for the slaves lost to the desert. People that died in search of their freedoms, where there's no body to bury but you still need to mourn."

Rex knows this. He says, "the clones had mourning traditions for the brothers who died in explosions or behind enemy lines, the ones we couldn't retrieve."

Anakin knows this as well. He nods.

They sit together, quietly, as calm as they can be for the too-perceptive children in their arms, and they know they need to mourn properly.

Rex can only hold his jagged edges in place for so long.

[redwinterroses]

Okay so this is purely self-indulgent on my part bc I'm such a slut for bumbling characters having moments/scenes of extreme competency, but imagine somewhere along the lines after False joined, in secret, Mumbo started teaching himself combat stitching.

So when he fucks up and accidentally exposes them all to EX, and the hermits are fleeing, Mumbo has his scene.

False is doing her best, but the army EX brought with him is too big for her; she's only one woman there's only so much she can do, and as she turns from one enemy to another she sees a weapon coming for her head and suddenly it's gone, and she watches that enemy unspool like an unravelling jumper as the adrenaline in her blood slows time to a crawl, and behind where the enemy was she sees Mumbo engaged in combat. He's got a massive shield braced against him as he looks at her, and False can see the expression of hope harden into certainty as Mumbo nods and reshapes his shield into an offensive weapon and goes back to his own fight.

Meanwhile the less combat able hermits have escaped down into TFC's mines and are putting distance between them so Xisuma can craft an escape route. The fighters will catch up, they always do.

SEE OKAY LOOK the thing with Mumbo?? when he puts his mind to something, It Gets Done. He decides to learn to be a builder? BOOM. Living base with its own story. Mountain covered in a village and a giant temple. He decides to go a whole season without directly killing anything? If it weren't for Grian... XD I kid, he does it. He decides to build a [insert ridiculous redstone concept here]? It might take him hours or days but by jingo he's gonna do it.

So if this guy decided to put his mind to learning how to protect the people and place he loves? That man would be terrifying.

(and yes I'm a sucker for that same trope bless)

[megashadowdragon]

Lancelot had a (b)romance with the half-giant king, Galehaut. Some fun stories about them

Galehaut's forces were laying siege to king Arthur's and looked as though they may prevail but before clinching victory, Galehaut offered surrender on the condition that the mighty black knight who fought so valiantly (Lancelot) become his friend. Arthur accepted the terms then Lancelot and Galehaut adventured together.

Galehaut helped cover for Lancelot and Guinevere, allowing them to use his castle for secret meetings.

He later encouraged Lancelot to move somewhere else where he could be with her even though it meant they'd never see each other again (his giant blood and own kingdom meant he couldn't leave).

Upon (false) news that Lancelot had died, Galehaut is said to have died of either loneliness or heartbreak (Lancelot had been kidnapped then driven mad so it wasn't completely implausible).

When Lancelot died, instead of being buried next to any of his three-ish wives, he chose to be laid to rest in the grave Galehaut set aside for the two of them so that they could be side by side for the rest of time

Gilgamesh is an architect nerd

Heracles madness and invulnerability isn't just due to his labours and being too strong to control

He had an actual moment of pure madness due to his invulnerability, his wife gifted him an undershirt that had been soaked in the blood of a centaur that tried to rape her, Heracles killed the centaur with an arrow coated in hydra blood, the hydras blood was deadly to all living things except those of divinity, the centaur knowing why it was dying told her if she felt her husband was cheating on her all she had to do was make him wear the cloth and he would fall completely in love with her and she gave him it as a gift

The hydra blood poisoned him but due to his inability to die he was stuck in perpetual pain and death with no cure he was eventually driven mad, during his madness he hit one of his friends so hard he sent them hurtling into the ocean, during his madness he commanded the building of an enormous pyre which once completed he threw himself on top of and set it on fire, hoping to burn his body into nothingness before it could heal and release him from the poison

I've never heard of a telling of Atalanta's story that has her die in that incident. Every version I've seen that includes that incident says that the two of them were transformed into lions.

As has been mentioned in other comments, FGO did address the existence of Chrysaor in Gorgon's Bond CE, and Mordred proposing to Guinevere, IIRC, is brought up in Fate/Apocrypha.

As for others...

While only addressed in the FGO Materials (and said materials note that it's unclear if this applies in the Nasuverse), some tales say that Medea and Achilles were once married.

There's one tale that happens before Heracles' labours, where he is tasked to hunt a supernatural lion (not the Nemean one). One version has him be rewarded for his success by being allowed to sleep with all 50 of the local king's daughters - Heracles beds and impregnates 49 in one night, and the only reason he didn't go for a full 50 is because one of the daughters wasn't DTF like the other 49. The other version has the hunt take 50 days, and each night Heracles is permitted to sleep with the king's eldest daughter... except they've plotted such that in the darkness, each night a different sister would crawl into bed with him, resulting in all of the sisters getting pregnant.

Heracles spent a couple of years as a lover to a snake-woman (who may or may not have been Echidna) during one of his labours (she was keeping Heracles' horses captive, and wouldn't let them free until she'd had three kids from him). One of their sons, Scythes, became the serpent-woman's heir, and is said to be the king for whom the Scythians were named. The other two sons either joined or founded other neighbouring tribes.

Going by Le Morte d'Arthur, Gareth gets really violent with cock-blockers (or, I suppose in the Nasuverse, clam-jammers). The first time, the intruder got their head cut off, but Gareth ended up being stabbed in the thigh and that ruined sexy-times. The second time, Gareth cut the intruder's head off, broke the skull into itty-bitty pieces, and threw them all into a moat... but sexy-times got ruined again because the fight re-opened the previous thigh-wound and the blood-loss nearly killed Gareth.

solomon and sheba

It varies depending on which version of Arthurian legend it is, but in Thomas Malory’s version, upon learning that mordred is an incest bastard, and Merlins prophecy that mordred will destroy Arthur and his kingdom, Arthur puts every baby born on the same day as mordred on boats and sends them away in hopes they all die, which obviously doesn’t work. I enjoy it because it makes mordreds hatred of his father a bit more understandable, and while he’s still a pretty bad dude, I feel for him a bit. Although in fate, mordred is my favorite character so I’m a little biased towards both her, and her actual counterpart

Arjuna

- "Endowed Hero" is a bullshit title. Arjuna and his brothers, due to being son of Pandu, was forced to be exiled and live in poverty for 14 years.

- Among Drona's student, he is the bravest among them. Even Karna's reason to study more under Parasurama was due to his jealousness toward Arjuna.

- Yudhistira is strong in using chariot and spear, Bhima in using mace, Arjuna in archery, Nakula and Sahadev in using sword. Despite all of that, Arjuna is better in technique than all of them in their respective forte.

- He got his astras by doing wrestle with Mahadev himself

- Among the youngling during Kurukshetra war (it means excluding Drona, Parasurama, and such. Oh, excluding Krishna as well), only Arjuna have fought non-human enemies and won.

Karna

- He's always the one with the obsession to beat Arjuna, not otherwise. Always want to be acknowledged.

- It's true that his armor is immune to everything thrown by Gandiva and even Chakra Sudharsana itself, but doesn't mean Karna is unbeatable. What impossible is to kill Karna, not beat him. Karna already loses 2 times against Arjuna before Kurukshetra war, either fainting or fled.

- Once Karna fought against Bhima. This battle happened years after Karna trade his armor with Vasavi Shakti. Both participants fought with normal weapon. No astras. No gods interference. No blessings. Bhima beat him so hard that Ashvattama needs to carry him.

In Greek mythology, Heracles was given another trial for some reason and he was given to a queen for said trial. The queen tried to humiliate him by making him dress up in women’s clothing and do knitting while she would dress up in his Nemean lion pelt and go into battle, essentially reversing gender roles. Well it turned out that the plan backfired on the queen as Heracles actually came to enjoy knitting. He said it was a calming exercise for him, so he actually found a new hobby out of this trial instead of humiliation. Needless to say that I would find it hilarious if we found berserker Heracles knitting a sweater for one of the children and ritsuka and mash catch him in the act. Just imagining a hulking behemoth like that knitting would be a hilarious image.