#((It's A FEW DAYS LATE but I've been battling a cold so I had no energy to write this up

[starconchs]

𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐄𝐘𝐄

pairing: fushiguro megumi x gn!reader summary: six times megumi gets caught staring at you and the one time you get caught staring at him. genre: fluff, fluff, fluff, friends to lovers. no angst here, originally a 5 +1 but i added another scene so it's a 6 +1. notes: a repost from an old blog, some scenes changed. nobara is a nosy wingwoman. mentions of minor injury, canon-typical violence, follows the season 1 storyline loosely. gojo + shoko being nosy as well. wc: ~6k

one.

Fushiguro Megumi is many things. To begin with, he's a talented jujutsu sorcerer, proven time and time again by the missions he gets sent on. He's also intelligent, observant not only in battle but also when it comes to others, always able to tell when something's wrong. However, his most noticeable trait, according to Itadori and Kugisaki, is that he's extremely secretive.

It's not a bad thing, not to him. There are better things to do with his time than sit and discuss his life story with his classmates, even though he thinks that Gojo might say otherwise just to piss him off.

Besides, keeping details about his life private means that no one can use any of his weaknesses against him. And that's especially handy considering that one of his weaknesses is you.

He's not exactly sure when it started. Maybe it was the day that Gojo sent him to pick you up at the train station alone, claiming that he had important business to attend to and that it was the least that Megumi could do considering the fact that Gojo had been going on so many missions lately.

Or maybe it was the day the two of you had been assigned your first mission together. You had been kind to him even when he remained cold and silent, eventually catching onto the fact that he didn't want to make small talk before switching the conversation to the mission at hand.

He had been mildly surprised when you came up with a foolproof plan to exorcise the curse, and the mission had gone according to plan with the exception of a gash on his upper arm. When you had knelt down to check on him, you had gently brushed him off, smiling widely as you complimented his technique and pet one of his divine dogs.

"Come on, let's get you back so that Shoko can check that out," you had said, gently grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet. He had stumbled slightly upon standing, prompting you to wrap an arm around his waist to try and steady him. "Are you alright, Fushiguro?"

In that moment, Megumi couldn't stop the light blush that dusted his cheeks as he pulled away slightly, stating that he was fine and ready to go. Neither one of you chose to mention the fact that his hand didn't leave yours on the way back to Jujutsu Tech.

Ever since that day, he seemed to be hyperaware of your presence. If he was busy training with the upperclassmen and you happened to walk by, he knew. And he often ended up getting knocked down on his ass because of it. It bothered him to no end, and yet he couldn't bring himself to say that he hated it. Seeing your smile quickly became the highlight of his day, and he often found himself staring at you whenever you were around him.

Much like he was doing so at the moment.

"Eh? Fushiguro, what are you doing?" Nobara asks, leaning over to catch a glimpse of his face. Megumi scowls as Nobara's face comes into view, tearing his eyes away from where you were standing a few feet away with Maki.

"Nothing," he replies instantly, shoving his hands into his pockets as Nobara keeps talking. She goes quiet when Maki calls out both of their names, being met with a grin from her as she throws an arm around your shoulder.

"Good news!" Maki proclaims, smirking at the approaching first years. "I've just found our last team member for the exchange event. From now on, they'll be training with us."

Nobara cheers loudly as Maki gives you a friendly pat on the back, the two girls walking off towards the field and leaving you alone with Megumi. He meets your eyes as you approach him, a teasing smile on your lips as you elbow him lightly.

"How lucky are you?" you tease as the two of begin to follow after Maki and Nobara. "Now you get to see my pretty face more often!"

"That's the problem," Megumi mutters as he came to a stop, sighing softly at your statement. He could already feel himself getting distracted during training, and he didn't want to think about the punishment that Maki would surely give him is he allowed himself to get distracted at the actual event.

"What was that?"

He straightens when he hears your voice, shooting you a strained smile as he catches up with you. "Hmm? Nothing."

You give him a funny look as you start walking again, the two of you being met with the sight of Panda and Nobara facing off against each other as you approach the field. A giggle escapes your lips as you watch Panda toss Nobara around, and Megumi can't stop the fond smile that spreads across his face as he watches you.

"Well, that fight's over," Maki says with a grin before motioning to you. "You're up."

"Against who?" you ask, shrugging off your jacket and letting it drop to the floor. The grin on Maki's face turns almost evil, and Megumi fights off a shiver as she shifts her gaze towards him.

"Against Megumi. Who else?"

Megumi trudges towards you as Nobara and Panda arrive at Maki's side, and he finds himself growing tense at the thought of fighting against you in front of everyone.

"Excited?" you ask, a grin present on your face as you stretch your arms. Megumi responds with a silent nod, feeling his cheeks grow warm as you study him from head to toe before nodding to yourself.

"Are you two ready?" Maki shouts, arms crossed as she looks at the two of you. The two of you give her a thumbs up, and she nods at the sight before waving a hand. "Begin."

To say that Megumi is shocked when you manage to take him down in less than five minutes would be a lie. Everyone else however, is surprised at the outcome and Megumi can't hide the embarrassment on his face as he walks back to the sidelines. He comes to a stop when Maki grabs his arm gently, pulling him close to whisper in his ear before he can get too far.

"I hope that your personal feelings won't be an issue the actual day of the tournament."

Megumi pauses, scowling at her and ignoring the smirk on her face before pulling away and taking a seat a few feet away. His eyes remain on you for the rest of training, and he does his best to ignore the fact that he can feel Nobara's curious gaze burning into him.

"You're doing it again," Nobara sings, bouncing up to Megumi when the training session ends. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you were staring at them the whole time."

"Good thing you know better then," Megumi bites back, hoping that Nobara hasn't noticed the way he flinched at her words. (She has.) Nobara laughs as she pushes past Megumi, walking up to you and proceeding to strike up a conversation. The two of you look over at Megumi before turning back to each other, causing Megumi's heart to speed up the slightest bit. He watches as you walk past him, giving him a soft smile as you made your way to the dorms.

Nobara gives him a simple thumbs up as she trails after you.

two.

Things had been... complicated since Yuuji's death, and neither Megumi, Nobara, or you had found the time to truly sit around and mourn.

Training for the exchange event had taken up more time than you care to admit, and you were slightly disappointed at the fact that you hadn't even gotten the chance to truly say goodbye to your friend.

But luckily, the students from Kyoto were a good distraction.

"What kind of woman is your type? Hurry up and answer, if you prefer men that's fine too."

The silence that follows Todo's words is awkward, and you can't help the way your cheeks heat up when Megumi's eyes drift over to you. Todo follows Megumi's line of sight, eyes taking your features before he nods firmly and turns back to face Megumi.

"I don't have a particular preference," Megumi says before Todo can speak. "As long as they have an unshakeable character, I won't ask for more."

"Not a bad answer!" Nobara chimes, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you contemplate his words. "If you had said something like 'big boobs', I would've killed you."

The snort that leaves your lips brings Megumi's attention back to you, and the way his eyes soften as he watches you giggle at Nobara's words doesn't slip Todo's attention.

"I knew it! You're boring, Fushiguro," Todo proclaims, his chest puffing up as he approaches the shorter boy. Once he's close enough, he lowers his voice, granting him the courtesy of not having you hear his next words. "You spend all your time admiring them from afar, but I doubt you'll ever actually make a move."

Megumi bristles at Todo's words, opening his mouth to speak before getting thrown back by a powerful punch.

"Megumi!" you cry out, trying to rush over to him before being stopped by Nobara's cry. You turn to see her being held tightly by Mai, her pistol aimed at Nobara's side as she pulls her close.

"Move and I shoot," Mai says, smirking as she sees the irritated look on your face. You glance back at Megumi for a split second before lunging at Mai, causing her to release Nobara as she reels back at your sudden action. You manage to grab Mai's waist, pushing her down to the ground and falling on top of her at you try to snatch her weapon.

A knee to the stomach has you grunting, and you find yourself rolling over to avoid another strike from her. By the time the second years show up, Nobara has Mai's hair clutched tightly in her hand, earning an amused smile from Maki as she swiftly breaks up the fight. You check on Nobara first, and once you make sure that the only damage she took was to her ego, you set out to locate Megumi.

You pause slightly when you see him, walking alongside Panda and Inumaki with a slight limp, before you sprint over to his side. You immediately begin to fuss over him, reaching up to wipe away the blood that was dripping towards his eyes with your sleeve.

"Megumi! Oh my god, are you okay?" you ask softly, cupping his face with your hand and turning his head side to side to look for more injuries. Megumi slouches slightly to give you a better look, unwilling to swat you away as you mutter your concerns out loud. "Do you need anything? Water, or maybe some medicine. We should visit Shoko."

Silence ensues as the three of you await Megumi's response, but his eyes remain on you as you give him an expectant look.

"Mustard leaf," Inumaki's voice breaks the silence, and Megumi shakes his head lightly as he pulls away from you to look at his upperclassman. Inumaki's eyes are slightly crinkled, and Megumi can tell that Inumaki is smiling at the scene that had just played out in front of him.

"Oh my god, you're right," You say to Inumaki before turning back to Megumi. "What if you have a concussion?"

"I don't have a—"

"Salmon," Inumaki chimes in, cutting Megumi off as he nods along with you.

"You're right," you sigh, grabbing Megumi's hand in yours before turning around. "That blank stare was a little worrying. C'mon, we need to get you checked out."

Megumi shoots one last look at Inumaki and Panda, a little peeved off with the sudden turn of events. The only thing he's met with are the snickers of both second years, along with a thumbs up from Panda. Inumaki simply gives him a playful wink, sending him a wave as you drag him away.

three.

"You know, if you keep staring at them, they're going to think you're a creep," Nobara says, interrupting Megumi's thoughts as she plops down on the step next to him. He tries his best to ignore her, giving up when she leans over and plucks the book he was holding out of his grasp, tossing it to the side with a small huff.

"I was reading that," Megumi hisses, a scowl making its way onto his face as he leans over to try and grab it.

"No you weren't, you were holding it upside down" Nobara scoffs, ignoring his mildly horrified look as she pushes him back into his seat. "Now spill. Why do you keep staring at them?"

The large grin on Nobara's face lets Megumi know that she already knows why he's acting like this; she just wants to hear him admit it. He refuses to speak, leaning back on the steps they're sitting on and crossing his legs. He looks off to the side, grunting softly when Nobara begins to poke his cheek.

"Fushiguro! I'm talking to you, don't be rude," she whines, gasping when his hand comes up to envelope her face to try and push her away. She struggles against him, failing miserably and only stopping when you approach.

"I'm sorry, I need to pass through," you say, stifling a laugh as they freeze. The two of them scramble up from their seats when they realize they've been blocking the entire pathway, bowing their heads slightly in apology as you pass by. You nod in thanks, your lips twitching as you give them an amused look. You come to a stop when you notice the book lying on the ground, picking up before turning back to face Megumi.

"This is a good book!" you chirp, your eyes lighting up in recognition as you gently dust off the cover. You hold it out to Megumi, waiting for him to take it from your hand. "It's one of my favorites."

He stares at you for a few seconds, and you find yourself shifting your weight from one foot to another as you wait for him to take the book from you. Nobara springs into action when it becomes clear that Megumi isn't going to move, grabbing the book from you as she chuckles softly.

"It is a good book!" she agrees, smiling a little bit too widely as you nod in agreement. You look back at Megumi, opening your mouth to speak before pausing and turning around.

"Well I'll see you two later," you say, waving to the two of them before walking away. As soon as you're out of sight, Nobara smacks Megumi with the book in her hand, effectively breaking him out of his daze. He gives her a glare, huffing lightly when she shoves the book into his chest.

"You're pathetic," she mutters, walking off in the same direction you had. Megumi sighs before taking his seat once more and cracking open his book.

four.

"That's a really nasty bruise."

You're met with silence as you move through the infirmary, grabbing the first aid kit, before turning back to face Megumi. His eyes are still focused on the ground when you step closer to him, causing him to jolt as you let yourself settle in between his legs. He swallows harshly when your hand comes up to cup his cheek, tilting his face up towards you to get a better look at him.

"You need to start being more careful," you chide, using an alcohol pad to wipe at his face. You give him an apologetic look when he winces, and his eyes dart up to your face when you pull your hand away slightly.

"It's fine, you can continue," he says quietly, leaning into your palm when it returns to its previous spot. He watches the way you bite your lip in concern, your eyebrows furrowing as you gently brush his hair out of his face.

"You're injured too," he comments, his eyes tracing over the faint bruising on your jaw.

"I'm fine, I was with Toge," you retort, letting go of his face to grab some ointment.

"Toge?" Megumi asks absentmindedly, wondering when you had gotten on first-name basis with the second year. He tenses when you tilt his head back up again, the focus clear on your face as you do your best to gently apply the cool gel to his face.

"Yeah," you respond, pushing his hair back again to get better access to the gash on the crown of his head. You freeze for a moment when you catch his eye, shaking your head lightly before focusing on the injury. "I wasn't alone during the tournament but you were. You fought Kamo all on your own."

"I did," Megumi mutters, his eyes still on your face even when you pull back slightly. His lips twitch when he sees your mildly irritated look, speaking the first words that come to mind. "Were you worried about me?"

Megumi watches as your eyes widen briefly before you compose yourself, nodding softly as you reach for some band-aids. "You're pretty reckless, y'know? You can't blame me for being worried, especially after what happened with Todo."

You don't miss the way Megumi winces at your words, thinking about his confrontation with the older boy. He starts to turn his head away, only to be stopped when your other hand comes up to his cheeks to keep him in place. He holds his breath as you study him, feeling vulnerable under your intense gaze.

"Promise me," you finally say, breaking the silence. "Promise me you'll at least try to be more careful."

"I promise," Megumi murmurs, releasing the breath he had been holding. You nod in satisfaction before finally separating yourself from him, turning to put the first aid kit back in its place. Neither one of you notice that Shoko has been leaning against the doorframe the entire time, observing the two of you as you tended to his wounds.

She watches you flit around the space, putting things back in their proper places as Megumi watches. There's an awestruck look on his face as you talk about something random, trying to fill the silence as he mindlessly hums in agreement with whatever you're saying. It isn't until Shoko actually takes a step into the room that Megumi finally registers her presence, and she watches with thinly-veiled amusement as his cheeks flood with color.

A smirk pulls at her lips as she takes note his bandaged injuries, and she can't help the playful lilt that tinges her words as she finally speaks.

"I was told that Megumi had been injured and needed my help but I can see that you've been well taken care of."

"Shoko!" you yelp, whirling around and leaning against a table as you give her a flustered wave. "When did you get here?"

"A couple of minutes ago," Shoko confesses, schooling her features as she approaches Megumi. She studies him for a minute before turning back to you. "You did a really good job. He's free to go if he doesn't want me to use my technique on him."

"Well, I'll leave you two to discuss that," you say laughing nervously as you inch towards the door. "Bye Shoko! I'll see you later, Megumi!"

Shoko snorts when she sees the way Megumi tries to hide a smile at your use of his first name, shaking her head before slipping on a pair of gloves and prodding at the bruising on his jaw.

"Are you okay, kiddo?" she asks flatly, watching him closely for any signs of discomfort. He grumbles under his breath before pushing himself to his feet, nodding his head in response to Shoko's question.

"'m fine," he grunts, earning a skeptical look. He sighs after a few seconds, crossing his arms when Shoko doesn't back down. "I promise I'm okay. I don't need you to heal me. Can I go now?"

"Sure," Shoko concedes, stripping off her gloves and throwing them into the trash. "If you feel any pain or discomfort you know where to find me."

Megumi nods once before making his way towards the door, pausing in the doorframe to send Shoko a wary look.

"Don't tell Gojo anything," he warns lowly, shoulders tense as she shoots him a blank look.

"I won't."

Megumi gives her a thankful look before leaving the infirmary, and Shoko merely smiles to herself before whipping out her cell phone.

Gojo was going to have a field day when he heard about everything she had witnessed.

five.

"I still don't understand why we have to be here," Megumi grumbles, exasperation laced in his words as he trails after Gojo. Your so-called teacher had pulled you, Megumi, Yuuji, and Nobara out for a day in the city, claiming that he wanted to see how much all of you had improved. It wasn't until you had all arrived in the city that Gojo had admitted that he was only really testing Yuuji and Nobara, especially since the former had been missing for a while.

"We can go get food while they deal with the curses," you whisper, coming up beside Megumi and nudging him with your shoulder. He merely hums in response, trying to act unbothered as Nobara shoots him an amused look.

"Doubtful. We're probably here to act as backup," he whispers back, earning a muffled laugh from you.

The five of you come to a stop in the middle of an empty street, being met with the sight of a deceivingly cozy house. You shiver as a breeze blows through the street, shooting Yuuji a kind smile as he comes to a stop next to you.

"Oh, are you cold?" he asks, eyes wide with concern as he looks at you. "Here, you can have my jacket!"

You smile gratefully as he begins to unzip his hoodie, flinching when you hear a loud yell.

"Itadori! Get over here!"

"Just a minute!" Yuuji yells back, ignoring Gojo's call as he fiddles with his zipper.

"Now!" Nobara snaps, her foot tapping against the pavement impatiently as she beckons Yuuji over to her side.

"Why are you being so— oh!" Yuuji says, his eyes lighting up with some sort of realization before giving you an apologetic smile. "I'll be right back."

You nod in understanding, watching as Yuuji joins Gojo and Nobara a few meters away. You wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt to shield yourself from the cold, Yuuji's body no longer present to block the air.

"Here, you can have my sweater."

You turn your head at the familiar voice, being met with the sight of Megumi holding out his sweatshirt. You hesitate slightly before taking it from him, quickly slipping it on and giving him a blinding smile.

"Thanks, Fushiguro!" you chirp, unconsciously snuggling into the fabric before taking a seat on the curb. Megumi remains standing for a few minutes, sending one last look towards his classmates before taking a seat next to you. He lets his elbows rest on his knees, his chin sitting comfortably on his palms as he observes the house Yuuji and Nobara are currently approaching. He takes note of the fact that Gojo had chosen not to mention what grade the curses were, and he mentally prepares himself to fight just in case.

He lets his gaze drift back over to you when he realizes you haven't spoken even once since sitting down, the slight concern on his face melting when he sees you staring intensely at the ground in front of you. Feeling the weight of his stare, you glance up to meet his eyes, sticking your tongue out at him and giggling when he huffs in amusement. He watches as your gaze drifts back to the concrete in front of you before your eyes dart back to him, the back-and-forth motion continuing for a bit before he finally speaks.

"What are you looking at?"

You lean forward slightly, reaching for something on the ground before turning to Megumi with a smile.

"This," you say softly, holding out your hand. He looks down to see a flower, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he looks back up at you.

"It's... pretty," he says, watching as twirl the flower between your fingers.

"Yeah, it is," you agree, giving him a shy smile. "It's the color of your eyes."

Your words cause Megumi's cheeks to burst with color, and clears his throat before he murmurs a soft thank you. You grin at his reaction before scooting closer to him, your elbow brushing against his and causing him to stiffen when you lean in slightly.

"You're welcome," you say quietly, raising your arm before pausing and giving him an uncertain look. "May I?"

Megumi nods silently, holding his breath as you lean in even closer to tuck the flower behind his ear. His eyes never leave your face as you busy yourself with the task at hand, softening when he notices the way your tongue peeks out from in between your lips in concentration as you do your best to position the flower.

There's a sparkle in your eyes that threaten to make his heart race, and Megumi finds himself wondering if you knew just how much of an effect you had on him. His eyes widen when your fingertips brush against his cheek, and you quickly draw your hand back down to your side as you take in the sight in front of you.

"It looks perfect," you finally say, your eyes never leaving his as you speak. There's a beat of silence before Megumi opens his mouth to respond, the words spilling out from his lips before he can stop them.

"I think you loo—"

"Hey! Lovebird! Get over here," Gojo shouts, his voice causing the two of you to scramble away from each other. Megumi closes his eyes for a second, mentally thanking Gojo for cutting off his statement as he gets to his feet. He turns to see Gojo wearing a big smile, seemingly satisfied with the reaction he had gotten from the two of them. "Hurry up! I think Yuuji and Nobara might need some help."

"Told you so," Megumi says, a smile on your face as you roll your eyes at his statement.

"Good luck, Fushiguro," you say, your quiet words drawing his attention to you. He looks down to see you giving him a thumbs up, and he simply smiles and nods before making his way over to Gojo. The older sorcerer's smile doesn't fade even as he approaches, and it only get wider when he holds out an arm to stop Megumi.

"Nice flower, it matches your eyes!" Gojo says slyly, plucking the bud from behind Megumi's ear and earning a scowl from him. "I'll take care of this for you. After all, you wouldn't want this to get ruined would you? Although I'm surprised it didn't spontaneously combust from how hard you were blushing."

Megumi gives Gojo one last scathing look before heading towards the entrance of the house, doing his best to ignore Gojo's laugh and focus on the mission at hand.

six.

You stop in your tracks when you hear a call of your name, the sound of Yuuji's voice bringing a small smile to your face as you turn around. Your smile only grows wider when you notice Megumi trailing behind him, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he looks down at the ground.

"Are you busy right now?" Yuuji asks, coming to a stop in front of you. You shake your head slowly, sending a glance at Megumi that Yuuji doesn't miss. "Fushiguro and I were about to get some food. Do you want to join us?"

"I'd love to," you utter, earning a wide grin from Yuuji. You snicker under your breath, his excitement reminding you of a puppy.

"Great! Then let's go! I've been wanting to check this place out for ages."

You trail behind Yuuji, throwing the occasional glance back at Megumi until you eventually slow down to walk beside him. The messy-haired boy shoots you a quick glance, looking away when he sees you giving him a curious look.

"What's up?" you ask, stepping closer to him and nudging his shoulder with yours. He shakes his head silently, raising his eyes to look at you as he steps closer to you to avoid crashing into somebody.

"Nothing," he says after a while, wondering if you would keep the conversation going. He's a little disappointed when you don't, but you also don't move away from him, instead choosing to call out your replies to whatever questions Yuuji asks as he walks ahead of the two of you.

"Oh, I almost forgot," you suddenly say, coming to a stop a few shops away from the restaurant Yuuji was heading towards. "I need to buy some stuff for Nobara, but you two go on ahead without me! I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Are you sure?" Megumi asks instantly, receiving a nod from you. He hesitates slightly, causing you to roll your eyes with a smile before waving him away. Yuuji gives you a sound of acknowledgment before tugging Megumi away, laughing quietly when he keeps looking over his shoulder in your direction.

"Come on," Yuuji says, opening the door for Megumi before stepping inside after him. "They'll be fine without your watchful gaze. Do you have any idea of what you're gonna get?"

"No," Megumi replies, taking a seat at an empty table and looking out the window. "I think I'll wait for them to get back before ordering."

Yuuji smiles at Megumi's words, forcing himself to look down at his phone in an attempt to act nonchalant. "So, how long have you had feelings for them?"

Megumi's eyes widen at Yuuji's words, and he finds himself mentally scolding himself for being too obvious with his feelings. He has to be, especially if Yuuji had been able to figure it out. He remains silent, letting his eyes drop down to the table.

"You should tell them," Yuuji says earnestly, all hints of teasing gone from his tone. His words still manage to catch Megumi off guard, and he glances at Yuuji to see him still looking down at his phone, the screen dark.

"No."

"I'm serious," Yuuji whines. "You should tell them. I think the two of you are perfect for each other."

"What exactly am I supposed to say?" Megumi asks, shifting uncomfortably in his seat before attempting to make eye contact with Yuuji and sighing when the pink-haired boy doesn't look up. "I really like you and and I stare at you like a dumbass because I don't know how to tell you how I feel?"

Yuuji snorts at his words, opening his mouth to tease Megumi before being cut off.

"You like me?"

The two boys look up in a panic when they see you standing close to their table, a small bag clutched tightly in one of your hands. Yuuji gives Megumi an apologetic look that he chooses to ignore, knowing that the both of them had been too caught up in their conversation to notice you approaching.

"I'm gonna go order," Yuuji says quietly, sliding out of his seat and heading towards the counter. He turns back to give Megumi a thumbs up behind your back, nodding his head as he mouths the words 'go for it!'. Megumi turns his attention to you when you slide into the seat across from him, giving him a smile before picking up one of the menus on the table. An awkward silence settles upon the two of you, and Megumi can't help but notice the furtive glances you keep sending his way.

"So," you finally say, breaking the silence as you put the menu down. He looks up, his eyes meeting yours as you sigh softly. "You like me?"

Megumi hesitates, watching the way your eyebrows furrow slightly as you wait for his response.

"Yes," he finally says, looking back out the window to avoid your gaze. He stiffens when he hears you let out a relieved sigh, giggling softly before speaking.

"Well that's good," you breathe, causing Megumi to whip his head back around to look at you. He watches as you rummage through the bag you had been holding, pulling out a book before handing it to him. It was the sequel to the book he had been reading a couple of weeks ago, the one you had picked up when Nobara had tossed it aside. "I was hoping to give this to you at some point, and maybe even ask you out when I did so."

Megumi's cheeks warm as he smiles at you, neither one of you noticing the way Yuuji pumps his first into the air a few feet away.

+ one.

You let your eyes drift up from your phone and land on Megumi, who is currently lying next to you as he reads the book you had bought him. The two of you are lounging in your dorm, your back pressed up against the headboard while he lays down on your pillows.

His eyes are focused on the words he's reading, and you take the opportunity to study him quietly. His hair hangs messily like always, but you choose to hold back from running your hands through it in order to keep watching him. Your eyes trace the slope of his nose, trailing down to his lips before following his jawline back up his face and finally settling on his eyes. You sit there admiring him, thinking about how unfair it is for him to have such long lashes.

You bite back a gasp when his gaze suddenly snaps to you, and you quickly look back down at your phone in an attempt to hide your embarrassment. You can still feel Megumi's eyes on you, and you shift uneasily in your spot before shyly looking back up at him.

"What?" you ask, your cheeks burning as you try to play innocent.

"I was just wondering if you were done staring at me," Megumi says casually, a faint smile on his face as he looks back down at his book. You gape at him for a few seconds before responding.

"I was not staring!" you cry out indignantly, scrunching your nose when Megumi gives you a knowing look. "Besides, if my memory is correct, you got caught staring at me by literally everyone else!"

Megumi rolls his as he sits up, sitting shoulder to shoulder with you before shaking his head lightly.

"Besides," you continue, not giving him the chance to speak. "What's so wrong with staring at my boyfriend."

A red tint fills Megumi's cheeks at your words and he merely scoffs before turning the page. You rest your head on his shoulder, glancing down at the book and attempting to read along with him. When he fails to turn the page after a few minutes, you glance up, only to see him staring at you with a soft smile on his face. You smile back at him before leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and you watch as he tosses the book to the foot of your bed before cupping your face with both hands and pressing a kiss a to your lips.

You give him another soft peck before you pull away from him, your eyes fluttering open to see Megumi studying your face. There's a smug smile on his face as he takes in your dazed state, and he opens his mouth to comment on it before you beat him to the punch, your words causing his smile to drop as he groans.

"Now who's staring?"

reblogs are appreciated <3 ty for reading!!

[inchidentally]

Sorry new landoscar fan here, I kept seeing the notion that Oscar was Lando’s fan for years, but I can’t seem to find any info about that?

ofc babe ! I store a lot of it in this tag but I think a little roundup post is probably due - heads up this is not in chrono order bc a lot of it is referenced from recent content:

2015 and Oscar making the big move to the UK to join Ricky Flynn and his fanboying of Lando begins

tiktok compilation of Oscar revealing his chronic Lando content consumption well before they were teammates

compilation from twitter of Oscar's decided bias toward not only liking Lando content but also searching his tag and finding posts that sometimes had barely a few likes (and this was just going back to 2017)

Oscar knowing when Lando's maiden podium was (and Lando calling him a nerd)

the 2020 hornet tweets because Oscar watched the stream of Lando battling 2 hornets in his house x x

Alpine Oscar 'interviewing' Lando and Alex on Sky in 2022 and the quote from Lando that he hasn't raced Oscar "yet" and Oscar well basically staring at Lando

2021 Oscar citing Lando's social media inspiring him to use humor as a way to open up to the public more (added landoscar angst here bc the hate and abuse he received after alpinegate seriously made him clam up and between that and him being fairly in awe of Lando, meant that Lando himself didn't rly get to know Oscar's humor until fairly late 2023 - like, no one should underestimate how Oscar entered F1 properly and got to know one of his favorite drivers all while being universally despised and painted as a villain/cold/evil - how much could have been different if one team had simply kept their mouths shut until verifying that tweet first esp when Oscar was already a shared reserve driver w McLaren anyway !!!!)

the beloved Oscar and Max F at Renault Academy lore

this post I made is a mess but the anecdotes he can only know from Lando's or Max's streams streams or Quadrant videos: Lando making stickers and selling them at school; Lando's snoring lore could be because of the thin shared walls but also Max has def brought it up before; he definitely already knew the story of Lando falling from a window trying to break into his own house; and the fact that we got Max reacting to Oscar referencing Max's outrage at Lando forgetting his birthday

it's a bit too scattered to compile but trust and believe Oscar has been a carlando girlie from day one - def the bromance but idk I feel like he's read a fic or twenty

watching Lando's career when asked about his idols coming up

and backing that up, him in 2019 saying the same thing

EDIT: his mum Nicole saying he would choose Lando as his ideal teammate going into F1 because the expectations of him wouldn't be too high since everyone knows how good Lando is

pulling out the it's Friday theeeen Lando meme

being so addicted to Lando content by 2020 that he actually fanboyed about the LN4 admin interacting w him

EDIT: he then followed it up by creating a sort of ship name for himself and Lando ???

EDIT: Lando's kart and the number 481 !!

EDIT: how could I forget Oscar submitting this old photo of Lando to a meme page in 2023 but he literally had that photo somewhere saved

EDIT: how could I forget the hornets saga ??

EDIT: 2016 Oscar likes Lando telling people to turn him notifications for him on

and ofc K's beloved Oscar primer has a lot of context about all of this more fleshed out!

I think that's everything but if anyone notices I've forgotten anything lmk !!

[hawthornclangen]

Moon 0 Allegiances!

Morningstar, the son of Glintmark, has been the leader of HawthornClan for only a few moons. He has taken to the position like fish to water, though, and with his mother as his right-paw cat, he feels comfortable in his new role.

Glintmark never had any aspirations for leadership herself, but she could not deny her son's wish when he asked her to become his deputy. Some in the clan raise their brows at the choice, especially since the late leader Weepingstar was her own sister.

Supporting them is the clan's only current healer, Nightfeather. Though.... He spends more time gallivanting at the edges of their territory - and outside of them, when the fancy strikes - than actually healing. Still, he loves his clan more than anything, and will do his job when it is really needed.

Froststream is the elder brother of Cloudwish, and the two are incredibly close. While Froststream is cool and closed off most of the time, he does open up around his sister. The two are the only survivors of their family after war with WolfClan took their parents and the Woods claimed their littermates, and thus, they are extremely protective of one another.

Cloudwish can seem distant like her brother, as she tends to live with her head in the clouds. She dreams of a kinder world, one where they wouldn't have to fight for every breath and every paw's-length of territory. She loves her brother and looks up to him greatly, even dreaming of one day ruling HawthornClan at his side.

Gorseflame is... a lonely cat. She is incredibly smart and great at telling stories when she doesn't let her overthinking get in the way. She craves the company of others but doesn't quite know how to let other cats get close to her; she fears losing them the same way she has so many of her loved ones.

Hickorypaw is considered by many in the clan to have a bright future ahead of him, despite his insecurities. He is very hard on himself to the point of perfectionism - a trait which is not aided by the fact that he is mentored by Morningstar himself. Hickorypaw feels enormous pressure to become a warrior worthy of having received such an honor.

Plumpaw, on the other hand, is relaxed almost to the point of laziness. She has grown cold despite her young age mostly thanks to the numerous losses the clan has suffered as of late. What is the point in even trying, she wonders, if the beasts will steal the lives of even their most talented warriors anyway?

Dawnkit and Morelkit are not related by blood, but many in the clan treat them like siblings anyway. The two fight and bicker all the time, yet when night comes, they always curl up next to each other on their shared nest in the nursery. Older cats have noticed that both kits seem capable of seeing things most cats can't - a fact which worries them greatly.

---

aaaaand there we go! I've played about a year ahead with these guys, so that's what I mostly based their larger personalities on. can't wait to show you guys all that these dumb battle cats get up to!

[partycatty]

Omg youre feeding me!!!! I've been obsessed with Johnny Cage too and your blog is like an oasis, THANK YOUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!! Also... would you mind writting some fluff/angst of johnny cage and reader? Like you trained with him in the wu shi academy and he always treated you like, a bit colder and distant than the way he treats the other 3 earthrealm champions. But thats atually not because he hates you but he likes you??? And he doesnt know how to express himself so he prefers to stay away, part because the reader is an amazing sorcerer under and is very battle-smart. But also the reader being like EXTREMELY SHY and introverted but very kind and reliable to the point that like all the guys from the earthrealm gangs make excuses just to spend time with the reader because they like them that much...

I'M SORRY THIS IS SO LONG IM SORRYYYYYYYYYYY I WAS CARRIED AWAY I LOVE YOU AND YOUR BLOG BUT NOT AS MUCH AS I LOVE JOHNNY CAGE BYEE SORRYYYY AGAIN

NO YOURE SO FINE DONT APOLOGIZE MWAH THANK YOU

johnny cage > envy

johnny can't find the words to describe how he feels around the new recruit, so he decides to say... nothing.

warnings: sad :(, ooc johnny? idk he's insecure

notes: reader is an outworld native sorcerer that lives in earthrealm. also, pretend that outworld natives can fight for earthrealm in the tournament LOL

masterlist <3

• you owed liu kang a favor after prior personal matters, so here he was asking for your strength at the wu shi academy. of course, you agreed. you may be an outworld native, but earthrealm was something to truly fight for. you considered yourself a lesser protector, one call away from fighting if necessary.

• you were highly respected in the field. liu kang knew that your powers were unmatched, probably matching titan shang tsung, and you still chose the good side. liu kang silently thanks himself and fate for keeping you on the side of justice. the lin kuei brothers also know you're on their side. as a secondary protector, you were acutely familiar with their styles and dynamics. in short, you were exactly what earthrealm needed.

• you didn't necessarily need training, but considering you were a contender for the title of champion, it was only smart to hone your skills.

• the boys warmed up to you very quickly; any friend of liu kang is a friend of theirs! kung lao had endless questions that easily flustered you, raiden found your sparring inspiring, and kenshi enjoyed your late night deep chats. the only one missing from the adoration was... johnny cage.

•it was... strange. you'd seen his movies, his public appearances. he was always a smiling, flirting ball of charm. you wondered if perhaps his recent divorce and failure in films contributed to his sour mood.

• but even so, he was still a charming devil around the others! references up the wazoo, loads of banter and he always had something to add to a conversation. it's just that, when you'd contribute something, his smile would fade while others laughed.

• it started with a king of the hill sparring to gauge everyone's skills at first. liu kang said the champion at the end of training would be selected the same way.

• "(reader), you are first," liu kang gestures to you with a smile. "please step forward."

• "cull the weak first," johnny smugly chimes in, hands on his hips. his smirk faded when liu kang said he would be first up as well. you, thankfully, were humble amidst your shyness. even so, you could kick major ass. johnny was knocked to the ground in only a few seconds.

• words were... hard for you. so instead, you extended a hand to johnny who was laying on his back against the cold stone. you smiled warmly and nodded, silently congratulating his efforts and genuinely enjoying the fight. sitting up, johnny let out a deep sigh with furrowed brows, and sat up on his own. he completely rejected your kindness, and for what? even the monks were taken aback by this.

• and again, since that day, johnny's just been incredibly cold toward you. spars after that day were increasingly more challenging. johnny's punches felt more... targeted. his anger was coming out in bursts, and it wasn't healthy. he gets borderline childish when he loses.

• "this can't be fair! you've got magic at your fingertips," he'd groan as he's knocked on his ass for the thousandth time. his skin was bruising from the repeated blows, and you weren't even being rough. "i've just got... fists. can you turn it off for one goddamn round?"

• "this... could be a learning experience?" you ask sheepishly, standing - one again - over johnny.

• "just forget it," he grumbles before walking off, rolling his shoulder. "showoff."

• completely stumped for an explanation, you ended up confiding in the man you grew closest to since beginning training: raiden. he was similar to you in many ways. shy, sweet, and endlessly humble. too humble, actually, to the point of not fully understanding your own strength. in a way, he reminded you of liu kang.

• "i don't understand, raiden. was it something i said? perhaps i'm not as aware of earthrealm culture as i thought i was?" you ask, perplexed.

• "have you considering asking him about it?" raiden replies with a frown. "he seems fine with the rest of us. it's only you he shows hesitation toward."

• he's right. you didn't once consider to actually... ask him. it just sounded like such a foreign concept, to confront someone. the thought made your skin crawl, but you were far more unsettled with johnny's behavior. you had to know.

• so, at the next meal time, you make it a clear effort to sit beside johnny, blocking him off from the rest of the guys. raiden gave you a shy thumbs up before you turned to face the star.

• "mr. cage," you spoke quietly so as to not disturb the others.

• "johnny," he coldly corrects you, eyes fixated on his plate.

• "johnny..." you're already flustered, but you try to swallow it deep down to keep control of the situation. "i'd... i'd like to talk with you, if that's alright."

• johnny's eyes lift to meet yours, but he seems upset. he leans forward to view the other boys and shakes his head.

• "no," he mumbles. "later. after training."

• the conversation stops dead in its tracks as johnny abruptly stands and relocates himself to the other side of the table. you're left dumbfounded as how blunt he is. raiden locks eyes with you again and just shrugs.

• training passes by slower than usual, probably because you're anticipating the conversation. that, and johnny won't stop staring at you every chance he gets. even across the training grounds, you find him staring with a completely blank face. he's cooking something up in his head, you just know it. lord knows what it'd be, though.

• night falls, and you weren't sure where or when to find johnny. as you shrug off the heavy robe and leave yourself in your skin-tight underclothes, you hear a gentle knock in the doorway.

• you spin around, face immediately flushed at the idea of being seen. instinctively, you launched a ball of energy toward the figure, but he dodged just in time.

• "good lord—!" johnny shouts out, slapping a hand on the top of his head to make sure his hair wasn't fried off. "remind me not to sneak up on you."

• "what are you doing in my room?" you ask, blushing deeply as you hug yourself to hide your curves. johnny scoffs and puts his arms up in disbelief, like you're dumb for asking.

• "you're the one that wanted to talk to me," he points in an accusatory way. once your shock wears off, you plop down on your cot with an embarrassed frown. he steps closer, standing above you. it wasn't until now that you realize his physique is incredibly intimidating. and kindaaaaa......

• you tense up, realizing your thoughts are wandering when he's literally right in front of you.

• "well come on. i haven't got all day, fancy pants," johnny jabs at your powers with a sour tone. something about his attitude makes your shyness completely vanish for a moment.

• "why do you speak to me like that?" you inquire bluntly, starting to raise your voice. "i don't understand. was it something i did? said? you've been nothing but cruel to me since i arrived. we're on the same side, johnny. help me understand why you hate me."

• johnny freezes completely, his eyes widening. his once crossed arms tense up before falling to his sides. he lets out a deep sigh.

• "i don't... hate you."

• "so you heavily dislike me."

• "no."

• "then what is it?!"

• "i-i don't know!"

• johnny rakes his fingers through his hair with a frustrated groan.

• "it's like... i want to hate you. i want to hate you so bad, (reader). but i can't. you're just so smart and perfect and... and wildly attractive... but a part of me wants to just—" he holds his hands out in a strangling motion as he rambles. when the thought finally clicks in his head, he sits on the ground, up against the wall opposite you. "i want to hate you because you're everything i could never be. you've got all these fancy powers. the guys love you. i'm just some washed up, divorced, broke—"

• you stand up and make your way to him, crouching down in front of him. your cheeks feel warm at the subtle confession of attraction, but your primary focus at the moment was reassurance.

• "none of those things define you," you say calmly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "for what it's worth, i think you're an incredible fighter. you do your own stunts. you stand up for what you believe in. that is admirable. you're quite funny, too."

• he looks down at you with a weak smile. he seems internally defeated, but outwardly flattered.

• "you're too kind," he chuckles breathlessly, looking around. "god i... i'm sorry to fall apart like that. please don't tell anyone you witnessed that."

• "i won't," you promise, returning with laughter yourself. suddenly, your mind calls back to his confession, and a smile tugs hard at your lips. your face burns. "did you say i'm 'wildly attractive?'"

• "yes! god!" johnny is now giggling, waving his hands at you. "have you looked at yourself? drives me crazy just sittin' here with you!"

• you let out a whimper and cover your face, burning hot. you try to protest in a muffled tone, but johnny just grabs your hands and holds them in his. he smiles warmly, the first real smile he's given you.

• "you're hard to hate, you know. you're just so damn cute when you're flustered. it's so easy to rile you up, isn't it?"

• you wiggle, flustered. you can only yelp out his name as you wordlessly beg him to stop the teasing. tragically, you opened the flood gates. he wasn't afraid of you anymore.

[calypso707]

Winter Soldier x OC Fanfiction - The Tale of Two Wolves.

Hey everyone ! Lately, I've been diving back into the Marvel niverse and my love for Bucky Barnes has returned. Recently, I read the novel about him and it made me want to write a little fanfiction about him. This story will be inspired by the comics, the novel and the Marvel movies. I hope you enjoy it.

Summary : She has been trained to become the best spy, an asset capable of overthrowing regimes. He, on the other hand, has been reconditioned to become a ruthless assassin, a ghost, both loyal to the USSR. Aspiring for freedom, they will both try to escape those who control them, but the only question is whether they will succeed or not.

TW : details of injury, wounds, anxiety, blood, probably some death, PTSD. For the romantic part, fluff moments, kisses.

Also available on Ao3 : The Tale of Two Wolves.

Chapter 1 - The Red Room.

Widows start and end wars. They can make or break kings.

Somewhere in Russia, during the Cold War - 1953.

When she was just five years old, she and twenty-seven other girls were taken to the Red Room, a training center created under the Soviet regime. Its primary objective was to create highly skilled and specialized agents for espionage and other covert operations. The training imposed within these walls went beyond physical training, using biochemical enhancements and few years later memory implants. She still remembered the pain she felt when she receive her first injection of a bluish substance. Her ordeal had lasted several days.

“Your wounds will heal four, even five times faster than normal, you'll never get sick, you won't age, your hair won't fall out, your skin can withstand the wind and sun…”

These words still echoed in her mind, like all the battles she'd fought so far, sending her comrades to the mat, one by one. Every day, she saw her humanity crumble a little more. Every sunrise heralded a new challenge, a test designed to shatter those who dared to hope. The training she'd undergone since childhood wasn't simply a question of physical strength or precision; it was a war against herself and the silence that echoed around her in this facility was like a warning.

She'd been training for several hours now, most of the time set apart from the others, attending training sessions for hours on end, perfecting her skills over and over again. She knocked down her opponent, tackling him to the ground, but had badly anticipated the action of the second, who managed to punch her. Her vision blurred with the impact and a whistling sound persisted in her ears. She stepped back, pressing the back of her hand against her bloodied lips, raising her other hand in surrender.

“Clumsy. You are failing on purpose.” said a female voice from across the room.

She looked up at the woman who was dressed in a cobalt-blue suit, her blond hair impeccably styled on her head in a bun. Her hands were clasped in front of her and she took a few steps: “Again.”

She was constantly on the edge. At any moment, she could sink into darkness or find a glimmer of hope. But one thing was certain: when she looked in the mirror, she saw a transformation. Not yet complete, but inescapable. She was becoming what they wanted her to be.

One question haunted her, however: could she aspire to freedom?

She shook her head slightly to regain her composure and resume training. Lately, memories had been coming back to her in flashes, in her dreams or in the middle of a training session, causing her to falter during certain lessons. She couldn't sort them out, couldn't tell the true from the false, interspersed with ballet lessons at the Bolshoi Theater and fights, faces she knew and others that seemed totally unfamiliar. She could no longer afford to be distracted like this, or they would soon label her dysfunctional despite her being one of their best asset.

“Irina.”

She straightened up, trying to hide the fact that she was tense. Here, her real name was only used when she made mistakes, which was quite rare, or when her instructors gave her orders. As the old man rose from his chair behind his imposing solid wood desk, she twitched slightly as he approached her. He seemed to be scrutinizing her, as if trying to determine if she was hiding more from him. This man, Grigor Pchelintsov, she'd known him for as long as she could remember.

“Mrs. B thinks you fail your tests on purpose. I have trouble believing her,” he said to her in Russian. “Is something bothering you?”

A heavy silence settled over the room.

“You know you can tell me anything.”

“Some… Strange memories are coming back to me.”

For a while, she considered keeping this to herself, but she knew it would only be a matter of time before she betrayed herself. And she could use it to mask her desire for freedom. For some reason, she felt obliged to tell the truth, for that was how she had been trained. Honesty to instructors, lies to the public.

“Hm… What kind of memories?”

She remained silent for a few seconds, seeming to search for her words.

“You can trust me, tell me,” the scientist insisted.

She remained silent for a few seconds, seemingly searching for words.

“It's hard to say. But I see a girl, long black hair and green eyes. I…”

She could be her sister, a camrade she knew, someone she killed. She could be anybody.

Grigor examined her for a long moment, raising his glasses to wedge them in his graying hair, thrusting one of his hands into the pocket of his blouse.

“Do you know who she is?”

“No.”

“What else?”

“That's it, I only see her face.”

He seemed to tickle something in his blouse pocket for a few seconds before finally nodding. He put his glasses back on his nose, looking more reassured.

“All right. Follow me, i will fix you.”

It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the clarity of the place. A woman was already present, impeccably dressed, her graying hair combed into a quilt at the back of her head, she was a pale copy of Mrs B. Her face was familiar. Grigor went inside a nearby booth, through which he could see what was going on. He nodded to her before she finally made her way to the seat in the middle of the room, surrounded by various machines. She settled comfortably on it, straps held down her wrists and ankles as the woman came to stand beside her, placing various electrodes on her forehead and temples. She opened her mouth so she could place the gag, which she bite down hard.

“Turning on the machines.”, said the woman.

A hiss echoed through the room as she switched the buttons on, one by one.

“Launch in 3, 2, 1…”

A pain suddenly irradiated her head and she closed her eyes, biting down as hard as she could on the cloth between her teeth. Her nails dug into the leather of the armrests. It didn't help her, it was worse than anything, more flashes were coming to her, more and more violently. Shocks were sent through her repeatedly, always stronger and stronger. The throbbing pain that pierced her skull became unbearable, and she endured the onslaught until she finally lost consciousness.

When she came to her senses, she slowly opened her eyes, she didn't recognise the room where she was and how she ended here. Grigor stood beside her with a small flashlight, moving back and forth over her eyes to examine the reaction of her pupils. He snapped his fingers next to her ears, to make her react to the sound; the buzzing she'd heard just a few seconds ago was only beginning to fade. He stepped back to let her straighten up, which she did carefully. She felt as if her skull would crack from the pain, but she must never fail, never. She sat on the edge of the bunk for a few seconds, assessing her physical and mental state.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

She took a few seconds before answering. How was she feeling ?

“Good.”

“Name?” asked the man.

She blinked several times before automatically answering : “Irina Milana Vasilkova.”

“Code name?”

“Lana Vasilkoff.”

“Section?”

“Black Widow.”

*

Pain was omnipresent, had become a part of her. It lived in her aching muscles, in her joints that screamed at every movement, in the bruises that covered her body like a second skin. But that was nothing compared to what she felt inside. Every successful task was a victory tinged with guilt, for she knew that behind every bullet fired, every blow struck, lay the shadow of innocence she was leaving behind. The cold gaze of Mrs. B and the instructors showed no mercy, no sign that she had the right to flinch. There was no room for error, and every failure meant punishment, humiliation or worse, obliteration. By not crying, she had learned to bury her emotions deep inside. But sometimes, when she closed her eyes to sleep, she still saw her old face: that of a girl who still believed in her freedom. And yet, there was also this strange satisfaction she felt in spite of herself. Every time she mastered a move, every time she defeated an enemy, she felt the power surge through her. Her senses had become sharper, her thinking faster. She was stronger, quicker, smarter than ever. But this power came at a price. She knew that by becoming a weapon, she might forget her humanity.

They had all been grouped together in the training room, the remaining nineteen of them. Camaraderie was rare, but precious. Among the recruits, the furtive glances they exchanged were a mixture of fear and solidarity. Sometimes a discreet smile, other times an outstretched hand in moments when exhaustion threatened to make her falter, these gestures were enough to remind her that she was not alone. But she also knew that this bond could be broken at any moment.

Here, everyone was both ally and enemy.

The instructor took a step forward, his hands clasped behind his back. He was the most terrifying of them all, the most violent. With each lesson, a certain apprehension crept over her, but she never wavered. She never would.

“Today, I would like to introduce you to your new trainer. One of our finest assets,” he announced, moving away from the door which slid open automatically.

The man who entered the room to stand beside the instructor seemed to be a perfect blend of brute strength and deadly precision. Every movement betrayed a restrained power, ready to explode. He stood around 1.80 meters tall, his silhouette shrouded in a black tactical jumpsuit. His left arm, a terrifying work of engineering, glinted metallic under the artificial light of the room. Engraved with geometric lines and adorned with the emblematic red star of the Soviet Union, it was an extension of his will.

Part of his face was concealed by a matte black metal mask that covered his features perfectly, smoothing every curve of his face with mechanical rigor. Only his eyes were visible, frozen like a Siberian winter, at once captivating and disturbing, capable of piercing to the very soul of anyone who dared to meet his gaze, scrutinizing every weakness, every intention. There was in those eyes a restrained pain, a muted melancholy, like a constant reminder of memories he would have preferred to forget. Around this mask, the soldier's skin was pale, marked by the icy wind and deprivation, with faint scars testifying to past hardships. Beneath this mask, there was no smile, no anger, just a profound emptiness.

His dark, slightly wavy hair fell in unruly locks around his face. It gave him a wild, almost untamable air. But this unkempt appearance was not to be mistaken for weakness. Every detail of his being seemed calculated, optimized for battle. His gait was fluid and silent. Despite his muscular build, he moved with an unsettling grace, as if the ground itself obeyed him. His reinforced boots hardly seemed to touch the ground, and every gesture, even the most insignificant, exuded mastery and control.

His aura was that of a predator. He carried not only strength on his shoulders, but also a magnetic presence that commanded respect, mingled with awe. He was no ordinary man; he was a living weapon, forged in pain and discipline, and honed by years of obedience to orders he hadn't chosen.

“Agent Keranin, the Winter Soldier will be your new combat instructor.”

Irina flexed slightly at the name. Her comrades tensed, and some of them took a slight step backwards. She'd heard of the Winter Soldier, but thought at first it was just a legend.

[obae-me]

Don’t mind me it’s really late at night and I’m in a bit of a yearning mood… This ended up being more angsty then I intended that’s my bad-

Do you think Lucifer dreams of loving MC? That nearly every night he dreams of holding them in his arms to unwind after a harsh day of work, of soft kisses by candlelight, of inviting them to the music room so they can listen to one of his beloved records and dance together, of sharing hushed moments of a type of vulnerability he can’t remember the last time he felt?

Do you think he wakes up from his dreams too soon to a cold half empty bed and remembers that he’s here all on his own with the human he loves far away and blissfully unaware of his predicament? He gets a harsh reality check when he remembers that despite all his dreams and fantasies he’s still alone simply because he’s too scared to say his true feelings? How ironic, the embodiment of confidence and pride, scared to talk about insignificant emotions. Are they even insignificant though? They certainly don’t feel like it to Lucifer, how trivial…

I want my men YEARNING and CONFLICTED-

(Sorry I answered this late, life has been super hectic and I've been taking a social media break but I'm semi back now! We're battling that burnout!) I LOVE yearning! SO MUCH! Especially when it involves Lucifer because it feels so much more complex and impactful (but I'm probably just biased). So, I hope you don't mind me using this ask as an excuse to do a writing warmup since I haven't done anything creative for a while.

Warning for angst and some hurt/no comfort (I'm sorry!)

A tiny seed, thriving and new, ready to be cultivated. Its creation a mystery. Filled with life, hope, and the promise of a forbidden fruit. And what did he do? Crushed it. Destroyed it as soon as the hint of it reared its ugly head.

At first, he wasn't quite sure what it was. So, foolishly, he allowed it to stay, to plant itself in the recesses of his chest where it could rest safe for a while. Just until he figured out what this anomaly meant. Where did it come from? Why? What was it that kept him up at night and stole his focus from his work?

It wasn't till he and the human had found themselves in a quiet moment alone. All he had done was head to their room to inform them of... He can't even remember the details. Can't even recall if there had been an original purpose in the first place. Lucifer had caught them getting ready for the night, sitting in their bed with a pillow held against their chest as they slouched forward, scrolling through their D.D.D.. Immediately, he found himself giving them a mini-lecture on how being glued to a device right before bed would keep them from sleeping properly. It was their duty to-- the usual gist. In the midst of the lecture, his words caught in his own throat as he noticed them hugging the pillow sleepily- albeit a little annoyed with him- staring at his face with their head tilted off to the side.

The seedling was beginning to sprout.

All the pieces clicked into place, a deafening rattle in his head. The lecture ended unfinished, the details he had wished to share with them ignored. He simply bid them a good night before leaving their room. When he returned to his own space, he examined the sprout that had grown. Gentle, just a weak little thing. Plucked. Ripped from the roots, he pressed the heel of his boot against it and wasn't satisfied till it turned to dust.

Feelings? Affection? And for a human? Unacceptable. It had been a mistake to keep it so close to his heart when he had been unaware of its origins.

And he went about his days like normal, feeling colder than he had in weeks.

It was a sigh of relief really. Keeping a plant like that around would only serve him trouble. It required care and attention he did not have the time to give. It was best for everyone involved to nip it in the bud before it had the chance to bloom. After a few days of settling back into normalcy, he found the courage to approach the human again without the pesky irrationalities attached.

A pain. Stabbing. A random tug in his chest and a grip on his throat. The very sight of them now caused him this new affliction. The plant had propagated, wormed an offshoot in the shadows of his marrow and spread throughout his body like a vile invasive weed. It was choking him. It felt like it was killing him.

He tore. He razed. He dug at it with his very fingertips as the thorns his scorn and bitterness had cultured shredded the skin of his hands.

It would not go away so easily.

Madness began to plague his mind. The more he desperately tried to free himself, the deeper the thing embedded. He couldn't stand at the human's side without imagining the warmth of their hand against his. Couldn't walk past the kitchen without checking if they were in their bedroom. Couldn't listen to his favorite records without imagining slowly rocking back and forth with them, their heads resting against each other. Several nights now, he'd awoken from a dream about them. Typically starting out as nightmares, either swamped with work, inprisioned in isolation, or burnt by betrayal. But before his mind could spiral into darkness in those drowsy tragedies, they would come. Lucifer would always hold them in their arms, his face buried in their hair or their clothes, kissing their cheeks, their hands, their shoulders. It was peace. Bliss.

Until he would wake up.

The loneliness was more torturous than he ever imagined it would be. If this was love, he didn't want it. But he did. Sins alive, he did. He wanted to scream till his lungs burst. He wanted the demon in him to run rampant and rebuild everything in his own perfect image. He begged this plant to sprout the poisoned apple so he could bring it to his lips and drown in its tempting flavor.

And the thought of that terrified him.

But what was he to do? Tell them? No...surely not. He'd already seen some of the ways they looked at him. This plant was already vindictive, tangling around his raw vulnerabilities. If he were to be rejected...he doubted it would die. More than likely, it would fester, ruining him completely.

Lucifer, Pride, the Morningstar, see what he'd been reduced to now. Fearful over telling a human his own thoughts. Losing control over something as simple as a basic juvenile feeling.

Ignoring it was hurting him. Feeding it was anguishing him. No matter what he did, it all resulted in the same endless suffering.

And every day he would wake up, nod curtly towards them at breakfast, and go through the same personal hell all over again.

[newtthetranswriter]

hii, hope ur doing well !! saw that requests are open :] can u do a reader x nacht where they're having an argument and nacht snaps at reader? that's all, thank uu !! <3

Word Count: 1673

Pairng: Nacht Faust x gn!reader

Warnings: Slight spoilers about Nacht and Morgen, mentions of death, blaming people for things out of their control, self depreciation, Nacht wishing he was the one who died, I think that’s it but let me know if I missed anything

A/n: Hi, thank you so much for the request. I love Nacht and writing for him makes me happy even if this is like the second time I've done it. I will say I couldn’t think of a citation where Nacht snaps at the reader so I flipped a little bit. Anyways I hope you enjoy and as always remember to hydrate or diedrate.

    Restoration after the Eye of the Midnight Sun’s last attack took quite a while. But eventually with all of the Magic Knight Squads working together, we were able to restore most of the Clover Kingdom. Once it was decided that the Squads could return to their regular routine, Yami allowed the Black Bulls to all take a couple of days off to relax. For me the mini vacation period was greatly welcomed and allowed me to complete a tradition that I had to miss due to the previously never ending battles.

   Normally I would make this trip around the beginning of May, but taking the trip in the middle of June was better than never making the trip. I sighed as I approached the familiar graveyard. It hurt to think that at only 29 I would be visiting a friend at a graveyard. Approaching the grave I had sat in front of numerous times, I fought to repress the memories of the first time I stood in this spot. Instead I focused on the purpose of my visit.

   I knelt down whipping off the layer of dust that had built on top of the headstone, smiling gently at the name carved into the granite. “Hey Morgen, I know I’m late but you won’t believe what has happened the past year.” I said as if I was having a normal conversation. It was a personal tradition to visit Morgan's grave and update him on all the happenings in my life. I always tried to visit close to his birthday but again things had been crazy lately.

   It was probably about twenty minutes into my one sided conversation when I felt a familiar presence behind me. While most people would be alarmed to have a person suddenly appear behind them as if out of the shadows, I was used to it. Even after six years of no contact, Nacht’s mana felt exactly the same. “Welcome back to Clover, Nacht just visiting or are you here to stay?” I asked, turning to glance at the hooded figure standing only a few feet behind me.

  “What are you doing here?” His voice was monotone, not hinting at his feelings. It wasn’t a surprise really, Nacht has always been cold. But what was a surprise was the slight glare he gave as he made eye contact with me.

   Trying to ignore the glare, I turned back to Morgen’s grave. “You know just updating Morgen on the eventfulness of the last year or so. Back to my question, are you finally back from your mysterious mission or are you just stopping by before disappearing again?” I asked, trying to hide the feelings that surged forward after remembering how he left six years ago.

   “Why do you feel the need to update Morgen on anything? He’s dead.” Straight to the point just like always. Nacht has a knack for avoiding questions.

   I sighed standing up. “He may be gone, but that does not mean he isn’t looking out for us. Plus I needed someone to talk to after my boyfriend up and disappeared without explanation. So I figured I’d visit his twin and keep him updated on my life. At least I know where Morgen is at any given moment.” I explained, failing to hide the venom behind my voice. “Now care to tell me why you’re here Nacht? Cause I doubt it has anything to do with Morgen.”

   I was greeted by a moment of silence before hearing footsteps approach. “So you come speak to my dead brother because I was sent on a mission that I couldn’t tell anyone about? Why not just move on with your life?” 

   For some reason my natural response to the question was to laugh. “Why not move on with my life? Really Nacht, really. Don’t act like you know what I’ve tried to do over the last few years. Moving on is easier said than done, especially when any shadow that moves reminds me of you. And I don’t care that you couldn't tell me about the stupid mission. What I care about is the fact that you could have at least broken my heart before you left so I wouldn’t have had the hope that you would return to me someday.” The laugh had quickly ended. In its place tears began trying to escape.

  Nacht remained quiet for a moment before speaking. “Why would you have hoped for me to come back? I left no evidence that I planned to return.” He was remaining monotone, and for some reason his calm tone only left me more upset.

  “I hoped for you to return because that’s what you do when the person you love disappears. But now that I think about it, you're right, why would I have hope that you would return. It’s not like you cared for me in the first place, afterall if you had you might have actually found a way to let me know you were alive these past six years.” I’m not sure if I even believed what I was saying. I think I just wanted him to react more. The look on Nacht’s face said I struck a nerve but he was too composed to actually let out his emotions, so I figured I’d take another jab. “What no defense? I’m not surprised the last time you truly cared for something, it was too late before you realized it. Now look where we are. Standing on his grave, the grave you put him in.” As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted it. If there was one thing Nacht would never forgive himself for, it was Morgen’s death. And I knew that better than anyone, having spent many nights assuring Nacht that his brother’s death was not his fault.

   Slapping my hands over my mouth I tried to think of how to take back what I had said, but the damage was done. I watched as Nacht’s calm face morphed from surprise at my words to what could only be described as dispare. “Thank you for the reminder of my failings. Thank you for the reminder that my lust for power and praise lead to my brother’s death. And thank you for reminding me that it should be me laying six feet under.” If I didn’t know him, I would have thought that he was fine. But I had heard that tone so many times, and I hated that it was brought back because of me.

  “Nacht no, it’s not your fault. I was upset, I just wanted you to actually talk to me. Maybe finally tell me why you never tried to reach out in the six years you have been gone.” I tried to reassure him. Hoping that he would believe that I didn’t mean it. I quickly whipped the tears from my face and stepped forward. I reached out to him hoping that physical contact would help comfort him, but he just backed away. “Nacht please, I never meant to hurt you. I just got you back. I can't lose you again.” I pleaded, no longer caring about the tears that rushed down my cheeks.

  Nacht turned to face away from me. “No, it’s fine. We both know it’s true that had I not listened to my parents, Morgen would have never been killed.” I could tell he was hurting as his calm mask cracked. “And to finally answer your question, I figured if I left without warning you would forget about me and live happily with someone who didn’t kill their own family. I had hoped that at the very least you would resent me for abandoning you.” He may have been facing away from me but I could almost hear the tears he was holding back. “From the sounds of it I was right, and you do have every right to be angry with me. I’ll be going now, I was also here to visit Morgen but when I saw you I had to know what you felt.” He explained, summoning his grimoire preparing to slip into the shadows and out of my life once again.

  I surged forward in panic, summoning my own grimoire. I summoned a large flame in one hand and grabbed onto the back of Nacht’s cloak with the other. If the flame didn’t cast enough light to prevent him from slipping away then he would take me with him wherever he was trying to run off to.  Realizing I had acted to stop his escape he dropped his grimoire and glanced over his shoulder at me. “I could never hate you. And I sure as hell could never forget you Nacht. I was upset for so long and I thought I was over it but seeing you again. All that anger and sadness came back. I’m sorry for taking it out on you like that. I should have tried to have a civil conversation like adults.” I apologized hoping he would accept. “Please just don’t leave me again.” I pleaded, releasing his cloak and extinguishing my magic.

  He turned to face me again. “I’m sorry for leaving and I’m sorry for not checking in. If you would be okay with it I would very much appreciate having a civil conversation.” And Calm Nacht is back. “I would also like to make it up to you for leaving, if you’ll allow me to.” He finished while gently resting his palm against my cheek. This was the Nacht I remember, mostly calm and collected but willing to allow his emotions to show through small gestures.

  I just nuzzled into his hand for a moment enjoying the contact I missed for the last six years. “I will allow you to makeup for leaving, as long as you promise to never say it should be you who’s laying six feet under again.” I said resting my own hand on his cheek.

  He nodded before placing a kiss to the palm of my hand. “I promise.”

[combeferres-mothematics]

1 and/or 55 for enjolras and combeferre for the prompts! 💚

:D Thanks for the ask!! :D I've put both beneath the cut off

...Second one got a little angsty....

Touching Foreheads

"You're up late." Combeferre pushed his spectacles up on his nose as Enjolras walked into the room, quickly clearing the clutter from the chair beside him.

"There's much to do," Enjolras sat down, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He was usually asleep long before this time of night, and his friend could read the exhaustion in his features. "Lamarque's funeral is in two days time, everything has to be ready."

Combeferre hummed, taking a sip from a mug of coffee that had long since gone cold. "You're only stressing yourself."

"Says the man who has been fussing with his microscope for three days straight," Enjolras retorted, reaching for the mug of coffee.

"It's not working properly," Combeferre muttered under his breath. "The slides aren't showing up as they're supposed to."

“Hmm,” Enjolras took a sip of the drink, promptly gagging and spitting it out, coughing as he gave the older man an affronted look. “Combeferre, how can you possibly drink this.” 

Combeferre laughed, eyes twinkling in the flickering candlelight as he stood, placing a hand on Enjolras’ shoulder. “I don’t believe I’ve remembered to drink my coffee whilst warm even once in my life- you get used to it after a while.” 

Enjolras wrinkled his nose, glaring at the cup in disgust. “You should come to bed.” 

“It’s only-” Combeferre glanced at his pocket clock, “two in the morning.” 

“Precisely.”

Combeferre looked up at him and full on pouted, much to Enjolras’ amusement. He raised an eyebrow, and the other deflated. He knew well enough when he wasn’t going to win an argument, and this was certainly one of those times. “Very well.”

The two stood in silence a moment longer, Combeferre resting his forearms on Enjolras’ shoulders as he pressed his forehead to his. Enjolras sighed softly, reaching up to lay his hand on the other’s neck, fingers tangling in the soft hairs curling at the nape of it. “Bed, Combeferre. You’re stalling.”

Combeferre pulled away, giving him a sheepish smile as he straightened out his shirt. Rather than give him a reply in words, he started for the door to the bedroom, Enjolras scurrying after him, knowing he’d need to get there first if he wanted any chance of sleeping with a blanket that night. 

55. Tracing the Lines on the Other's Hand

Enjolras rested his carbine on his legs as he sat beside Combeferre, eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of an attack. It was quiet now, eerily so. He reached over to grasp his friend’s hand, gently running his thumb over the creases of his palm. 

Combeferre made no more move than to gently weave his fingers into Enjolras’ own. They sat in silence- no words were needed when you knew the other as well as they did. Besides, what could one say on the last night of their lives?

Then, the silence was broken as Gavroche tumbled over the barricade, singing cheerily as he came. Combeferre looked over to his friend with a sad smile. “He’s warning us.” 

Enjolras nodded, pulling his hand from Combeferre’s as he stood. The other turned as he grabbed his forearm, looking at him with piercing gaze. “If we don’t get the chance to speak again...” He broke off, looking at the ground with a sigh.

“I don’t like farewells,” Combeferre murmured, reaching to brush a few wayward curls from his brow. “I’m sure we’ll meet again in another lifetime.” 

Enjolras smiled, shaking his head fondly as he clasped his forearm. “Till we meet again then- I do love you, Combeferre.” 

“And I you.” Both turned towards the rest of the barricade, Enjolras hurrying away to be sure everyone was in position while Combeferre checked that his stash of bandages were in order for after the fighting. They would need them, even if he didn’t survive to tend to the wounded after this battle. 

[wayward-dreamer]

Better Late Than Never

Square/s Filled: Snowed In @anyfandomfluffbingo | FREE @jacklesversebingo |

Pairing: Dean x F!Reader

Word count: 2,017

Summary: Dean and Y/N find themselves snowed in at Bobby's cabin. With a little whiskey and a cozy fire, it leaves Dean vulnerable to admit something to her he's been keeping to himself for some time.

Warnings: Minor angst, 99% fluff, brief mention of erotica.

A/N: I've had to forego tag lists as battling with dumblr isn't worth risking my mental health lol. So please go ahead and follow @wayward-dreamers-library and turn on notifications, if you want to read my stuff.

Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy this, because it's been a while since I've written a Dean one shot. Thanks to my besties and beta's @hintsofhoney and @makeadealwithdean for looking over this one! <3

Dean pushed the door open, the gust of chilly air causing it to hit the wall as he hurried inside, forcing it closed against the wind and shutting the cold out. He unwrapped the thick scarf from his neck, breathing heavily as the warmth from the fireplace in the living area thawed his frozen nose. He pulled the gloves off his hands and took off his leather jacket, hanging it up on the rack next to the door, before turning around, frowning at the quietness in the cabin.

“Y/N?”

Suddenly, he heard boots coming up the stairs from the basement, Y/N’s head appearing from the hatch followed by the rest of her, as she carried a big box in her hands.

“Hey,” she nodded at him as she set the box down on the dining table. “I hope you’re hungry for canned chicken soup because that’s all there was.”

“Well, as great as liquid salt in a can sounds,” he began with his signature sarcasm in place, “I got a few other things to eat, and something absolutely necessary to get through the next few days.”

He reached into one of the bags, pulling out two bottles of Bourbon, smirking as he placed them on the table. “We’re really livin’ it up here, huh?” he jested, chuckling.

“Oh yeah, it’s a real Four Seasons vibe,” she added, rolling her eyes as her laughter joined his.

“Called Bobby, told him we pulled in here and we’re gonna be staying until they clear the roads in the morning or the next,” he informed, taking out two glasses from the kitchen cabinets. “Said if we break anything, we owe him.”

“Sounds about right,” she muttered.

“So, looks like it’s just you and me,” he said, handing her a glass and cracking the seal on the bottle, pouring a generous amount into it. “Hope you don’t get sick of my face ‘cause there’s no tellin’ how long we’re gonna be here for.”

“As long as you don’t annoy me, I think we’re good,” she said, looking between her glass and him.

“Oh come on, where’s the fun in that?” he teased, smirking before he poured some bourbon for himself.

They clinked their glasses together before Y/N took a sip, turning away from him to avoid his gaze. Being in close proximity to Dean like this for God-only-knows-how-long was a dream scenario in her head. In reality, it was a nightmare. She had harbored feelings for him for longer than she cared to admit, and now being around him constantly until she finally got to leave was going to be incredibly difficult. She had to keep her bourbon intake low too; there was no telling what she would confess with too much of it in her system. She thought it was just a stupid crush she had from the first hunt they met on, something that would fade away soon enough. Then they kept meeting up, sometimes because a phone call from Sam would convince her to join them on a particular hunt, and other times by coincidence.

More cases led to more time around each other, until they became a pretty permanent part of each other’s lives. She’d even go as far as to say they were really good friends, which just made being in love with him even more complicated. Sam had been trying for a while now to get her to be part of their team, that it was better than her hunting alone, but she couldn’t do it.

Why torture herself with spending every single day in Dean’s presence when nothing was going to happen?

That was exactly what happened, however, when Sam got injured on a hunt and was resting up at Bobby’s. It had forced Dean to call her in on a vampire case, telling her he needed backup as the next was larger than he could take of on his own. The drive back to Bobby’s had been difficult, as the snow started falling harder, and they both knew they had to pull into his Montana cabin until the impending storm was over, as that was the closest place they could get to. It was five days and counting being alone with the man she had feelings for, and she wasn’t sure she’d survive it any longer. 

“I’m gonna keep outta your hair until dinner, I promise,” he proclaimed, walking past her. “How does 7 sound?”

“Sounds great,” she replied, smiling. “Thanks.”

“All good, sweetheart,” he smirked, turning on his boot to face her again. “Plus, I know you need some time with that dirty book in your duffle bag you think I don’t know about-”

“Dean!” she yelled as her eyes widened, her reflexes kicking in quickly as she picked up a couch cushion and hurled it at him.

He threw his head back as he guffawed, stumbling to catch the cushion in his hand and tossing it back on the couch. He shook his head as he continued to chuckle to himself, walking into the bedroom he’d be using and shut the door. She glared at the wooden barrier, dropping down on the sofa and taking a big sip of the amber liquid in her glass. She really had no desire to read her book now that it had been discovered.

At least she still had plenty of other fantasies to keep her company once she retreated to her room for the night.

“Fucking… piece of–son of a bitch,” Dean muttered under his breath, battling with the ancient TV antenna.

Y/N pressed her lips together to keep from laughing, her eyes squinting as the glare coming off the screen as the static black and white crackled. “It’s no use, Dean.”

“This is literally the only thing to do here other than research. I’m fixing this thing,” he grumbled, glaring at the antenna.

“I saw a deck of cards in one of the drawers,” she stated, pointing towards the kitchen.

“Fine,” he lamented.

He finally gave up, turning off the TV with a scowl on his face. He retrieved the deck from the kitchen and sat across from Y/N, shuffling them quickly before dealing them out between them.

“Care to make it interesting?” he asked, grinning as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“If you’re thinking strip poker, you better think again, Winchester,” she countered, an unamused expression on her face.

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “You’re no fun, Y/N.”

“I know,” she giggled.

They played a few rounds of regular poker, with Dean winning the first round and then losing the next two. He grumbled as he handed his money over, but Y/N promised that she’d save it to buy drinks the next time they were at a bar. He stood up and put another log on the fire, before grabbing the bottle of bourbon and pouring some more for himself. He picked up her glass, which caused her to bite her lip, nervously. She knew she really shouldn’t, in fear that she might admit something she couldn’t if she had anymore to drink than she already had.

“Uh, Dean… I think I’m good,” she said, covering the glass with her hand.

“It’s not like we’re leaving any time soon,” he stated, gesturing at the snow outside.

She sighed, handing over her glass. She knew he had a point. “You twisted my arm.”

He poured her some before he took his place on the couch again. They fell into a comfortable silence, her eyes focused on the flickering flames and crackling of the fire. Dean looked at her, a soft smile pulling at his lips as he noticed the peace on her features. She always looked beautiful, but when she was completely relaxed and had no worries that plagued her was when she looked the most stunning. He could never tell her that though; he didn’t know how she’d react. He had liked her from the moment he met her, but he wasn’t sure if she felt remotely the same. He didn’t really want to find out, fearing that she wouldn’t.

“I can feel your eyes on me,” she broke the silence, glancing over at him.

“Sorry,” he muttered, frowning at the fact that she caught him.

“It’s okay, Dean,” she reassured him, resting her head back against the couch as she kept her eyes on him. “Anything on your mind?”

He took a sip of bourbon, staring down into the glass. “Nope.”

“That was a long pause,” she observed, smirking. “Okay, spill. There’s clearly something.”

“I was taking a sip,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but there was still a lot of silence,” she argued.

“Y/N, it’s-it’s really nothing-” he started but his words dissolved on his tongue as she shifted closer to him on the sofa.

“Is it about Sam?” she asked. She knew his little brother was always a source of worry for him.

“No,” he replied, taking a large gulp of the alcohol in the tumbler.

“Is it about Bobby?”

“What is this, twenty questions?” he responded, annoyed at the third degree.

“No,” she sighed, holding his gaze. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. I shouldn’t push it.”

His eyes closed briefly as he let out a deep exhale, his lids fluttering open as he looked at her. “No, it’s not about Bobby.”

Their eyes never left each other as she thought his words over for a moment. “Is it about me?”

He knew he couldn’t ignore the question, or what he felt for her any longer. “Yes.”

She was taken aback by his answer, instantly fearing that she had done something wrong. She shifted closer to him, the scent of his aftershave tickling her nose, a couple of inches still between them.

“Dean, whatever it is… you can tell me,” she whispered, slowly curling her hand over his.

He could’ve explained himself through words, but he had never been good at expressing his feelings that way. Actions always spoke louder.

With their gazes still locked, her heart began to beat rapidly in her chest as his green orbs stared down at her, making her gulp at how close they were to each other. He slowly leaned in, and before she even realized it, a gasp escaped her just as his lips pressed against hers in a soft kiss. Her eyes fluttered closed as he squeezed her hand in his, allowing herself to move closer to him. She lifted her other hand, cupping his face and letting her thumb stroke over the chiseled line of his jaw, a low moan leaving her as his tongue slipped between her lips, deepening the embrace.

It was over just as quickly as it began, leaving her breathless when he pulled away, both of them staring at each other. Dean shook his head, hoping he hadn’t overstepped, that he hadn’t just ruined everything between them. A small smile, hopeful but weary, pulled at her lips.

“I wish you would’ve done that sooner,” she admitted, laughing.

He grinned. “Better late than never, I guess.”

She leaned into him, her hand resting over his heart covered by his red and black plaid shirt, her forehead pressed against his. She couldn’t really believe what had just happened, feeling like she’d wake up at any moment and it would’ve all been a dream. The longer she stayed in that embrace, in the peace and quiet of the cabin, the only sounds coming from the fireplace, she knew it was all real. It was finally real.

“We have until this storm is over to make up for lost time,” he said, peering into her eyes.

“Hey, better not just be during the storm,” she warned, lifting an eyebrow.

He chuckled, shaking his head as his lips hovered over hers. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I ain’t lettin’ you go any time soon.”

“Sounds good to me, Winchester.”

They spent the rest of the night curled up together in front of the fire, before moving things into the bedroom, finding a better way to keep warm during the snowstorm.

[canirove]

Granada | Chapter 25

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

"Look who is back!"

"Hello, Luna."

"Oh, come here" she said, hugging Rowena. "We were so worried about you when we heard you had left to be at the front with Rúben… What got into your head to do that?"

"Love, I guess" she replied, trying to shrug.

"And when you fought against those men to defend the camp?"

"You know about that too?"

"Everyone in the city knows" Luna chuckled. "You are like a hero around here. I've even seen little girls fighting with sticks and saying they are like Princess Rowena."

"Oh. That's… I don't know what to say."

"Well, I know what to say. Thank you."

"Uh?"

"Thank you for defending my people. Your people" Luna smiled.

"It is my duty as the princess."

"Maybe. But I don't see the queen or your friend wielding a sword. A needle, maybe. But a sword? Nah" she laughed. "Anyway, what brings you here?"

"I wanted to speak with Iris if she isn't busy."

"Today actually is her free day. Come" Luna said, leading Rowena towards Iris' room.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"I am so glad to see you!"

"I can tell" Rowena chuckled. "But if you keep squeezing me like that, you will manage to do what the enemy couldn't."

"Sorry, sorry" Iris said. "How are you?"

"I'm… I don't know how I am" she sighed.

"Oh, dear. What did Rúben do now?"

"I was hoping you would tell me" Rowena said, sitting down.

"Me?"

"He's been late to bed almost every night since we came back, and I thought that maybe it was because he was coming to talk with you."

"I haven't seen him since before you left."

"Really?"

"Tell me what happened, Rowena" Iris said, taking her hand on hers and giving it an encouraging squeeze.

"It all started after the last battle. I don’t know if they told you that he got hurt and was unconscious for a few days.”

“They told us, yes.”

“Well, at first I thought he was acting weird because he was still recovering, which can be normal. But his coldness towards me since that day hasn't disappeared."

"Coldness?"

"He avoids me, Iris. He can't be alone with me in the same room, and when we are alone it is as if he is scared to touch me. Did he tell you about the pillow wall?"

"He did" she chuckled.

"Well, now it is as if there is a huge invisible wall between us. And not only in bed. It is everywhere. And then…"

"Then what?"

"We both have nightmares. I've asked him about his, but he says he won't tell me until I tell him about mine."

"Then do it. Tell him."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because… I can't" Rowena said, getting up from her seat.

"Talking does help."

"I know, but… I'm not ready. Not yet."

"Does your nightmare involve him?"

"It has started to" she whispers, the images of Rúben lying dead on their bed coming back to her mind.

"Rowena" Iris said, also getting up. "You must talk to him. Tell him what you are feeling."

"As if it was that easy" she snorted. "He is constantly avoiding me or hiding from me!"

"But you are a clever girl. You'll find a way to corner him and make him talk."

"I guess I can try" she sighed.

"He loves you, Rowena. A love like yours doesn't disappear overnight."

"And I love him too. I don't think I will ever love anyone the way I love him."

"Then you will find a way to reach him and fix this. You'll see."

"Will you let me know if he comes to visit you? If he talks to you?"

"I will" Iris said, wiping away a tear from Rowena's cheek. 

"Thank you."

"Anything for you two" she smiled.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Are you sure he is in there?"

"Yes, my lady. He was cleaning Poppy."

"Great, thank you very much" Rowena said, walking towards the stables. This was her moment. She would talk with Rúben, tell him about her nightmare, and find out what was wrong with him. "Hello." 

No answer. Rúben just ignored her, busy brushing Poppy's mane. 

"How is she today?" 

Again, nothing. 

"One of the boys told me she's becoming a bit stubborn. Like her owner, I guess" Rowena chuckled. 

"Like her owner" Rúben murmured.

"Oh, look who remembered he can talk!"

"You are not funny, Rowena."

"Neither are you, Rúben. Especially not lately" she said, crossing her arms over her chest. 

"I'm not in the mood to argue."

"Well, I am. What is wrong with you? Why do you keep avoiding me and acting as if I don't exist?"

"I am busy" he said, his eyes still fixed on Poppy. He hadn't looked at Rowena yet.

"You are always busy. Always!"

"Lower down your voice. You will scare the horses."

"I don't care!" she yelled, definitely making some of the animals nervous.

"We'll talk when you have calmed down" Rúben said, putting down the brush he was using and starting to walk away.

"I am calm!"

"You are yelling, Rowena. That's not being calm."

"Rúben! Rúben, come back here! Rúben!"

"Ouch!" he complained. "Did you… did you just hit me with a shoe?"

"I did. And I can do it again. Maybe that way I'll put some sense into that big head of yours."

"Me? Who is the one sneaking into the city again, at night, and alone?"

"Did Iris tell you I went to visit her?"

"I haven't seen her since before we left for battle, but a guard saw you and came to tell me."

"Oh. I see."

"You look disappointed" Rúben chuckled. "Were you expecting to find out I was seeing her again and use that as an excuse to finally run away?"

"What are you talking about?" Rowena laughed. "I don't want to go anywhere. I want to stay here, with you. I love you, Rúben."

"Maybe you shouldn't love me" he murmured.

"What… what does that mean?" 

"Oh, there you are!" Diogo said, walking into the stables. "He's coming."

"Who?" Rúben asked.

"Prince Lewin, of course."

"He's here already?"

"Not here here, he still is crossing the city. But yes."

"I better go get changed" he said, now walking towards where Rowena and Diogo were standing. "This is yours."

"Is that a shoe?" Diogo laughed when he saw what Rúben had given her. "Why did he have your shoe?"

"It's complicated" she replied, putting it on. "Let's go meet that prince."

"Yes, of course. But Rowena…" Diogo said, holding her by the arm. "I know something is going on between you and Rúben. he hasn't been the same since he came back. So if there is anything I can do…"

"If you could make him talk to you, tell you what is going on inside that stupid head of his…"

"I'll try" he smiled. "I don't like seeing him like this. Seeing you both like this. You love each other so much, that I just…"

"Thank you, Diogo. It means a lot" Rowena replied, kissing his cheek. "Now, the prince."

"Yes, the prince. Anne is already waiting outside, and I'm sure she's looking forward to gossiping about him with you" he chuckled. "Did you get to meet him? They say he is very handsome."

"I did not."

"Shame" Diogo said. He kept rambling about Prince Lewin, the new heir to the kingdom who had been their enemy until not that long ago, the one she had fought against. But there was only one thing in Rowena's mind, and that was Rúben's last words to her:

Maybe you shouldn't love me.

[kishibedefender]

OH FUCK THATS RIGHT WHO WANTED A SUPER-LATE CHRISTMAS DRABBLE

Cinnamon Stars

"I've been keeping track of the days. Today is December 25."

Pairing: Diego Brando & Isadora Meyers (OC)

Word Count: 674

Isadora sighed and laid down on the snowbank, staring up at the blanket stars that lay on top of the world. She could feel the snow crunching beneath her hair as she examined the constellations, not looking for any specific one, but instead seeing what she could find within the dotted sky. 

Her foggy breaths would obscure her view though. Goddamn, was it cold. She heard rustling and glanced over at her travel companion with a frown, “Alright over there?” 

“I'm fine.” He said, sitting down next to the fire they had gotten going a few minutes prior. After successfully getting their horses all ready for the long, cold night ahead, the two were exhausted and freezing, ready to take on their respective sleeping shifts. 

“Hey. I've been keeping track of the days. Today is December 25.” Isadora said, one corner of her mouth pulling into a sad smile as she looked back at the nighttime sky. 

“Christmas? You celebrate that?” Diego scoffed, and Isadora rolled her eyes, pulling her arms up over her head and resting her head on her interlocked fingers, “Yes. I do.” 

“I've never had a reason to. So it doesn't matter. Don't bring it up.” Diego said sternly, and Isadora sat up, “You're a real ass. I'm trying to find some common ground here. You're the one constantly prodding and bickering and poking at me like I haven't navigated you halfway across the country.” 

Diego didn't respond, and Isadora's angry glare turned to a sad frown, “You never celebrated it? What about your mother? Did she ever-” Isadora's question was cut short by an absolutely enraged glare from Diego. 

The girl sighed, and reached over to her saddlebag. 

“Here. Let me be your first then.” She said, pulling a small package out of one of the bags with an exhausted smile on her lips. 

“It isn't much. But I figured you'd be happy with it.” She held out the small paper package tied with a green ribbon. Diego glanced from her to the small bundle, before hesitantly taking it in his gloved hand. 

“Candy? Why?” He asked, and Isadora felt her smile fall, remembering that he had heightened senses. Of course he could smell it through the paper. 

“You eat rocks sometimes, I felt like this would be a nice nod to it.” She shrugged and looked away. It went quiet for a few moments, before the rusting came again. Isadora heard a few very light footsteps, and to her surprise, felt the snow next to her sink down. 

Diego Brando held out the open paper package, “We'll share them, then.” 

She looked from the package, to his face, and laughed quietly, “If I had met this Diego sooner, maybe our relationship would have been very different.” Isadora teased as she took a small piece of the cinnamon flavored hard candy she had purchased in Mackinaw. 

The two ate the candy in relative silence, save for Diego chewing on the hardened sugar predictably, until finally he spoke up, “Why are you being kind to me?” 

Isadora hummed, looking back up to the stars for a moment, before she got her answer, “You could have let me die back there. I could have drowned, and you could have gotten away with my entire company. But you saved me. So that counts towards something.” 

“Not to mention that small 18 year old girl in me will always be sweet on that dashing young jockey, regardless of how arrogant he becomes.” She laughed at her small joke, but Diego didn't laugh, instead he stared at her with a steeled look in his eyes. 

“I wonder what would have happened had Thomas raced instead. Perhaps our circumstances would be different.” She said dreamily, bringing her knees to her chest, “But as it stands we are enemies in this battle. And I can't let you win, Brando.” 

She met his hard gaze with a fiery one of her own, and Diego only smirked, tearing his eyes away from her, “I accept that challenge, darling.” 

Your honor they're not endgame but goddamn they could've been

[ozma914]

Winter Weather Woes Worry Writer

The other day I was at Wal-Mart (wearing two layers of pajamas--brrrr), when I ran into a polar bear shopping for winter coats. "Shouldn't you be up north?" I asked.

"Nah, I'm tired of the cold. I'm heading to the Gulf Coast. Hopefully this Arctic air won't keep following me."

Then he took off south in his Tundra. I don't know what happened to him, but I have a feeling he's not happy.

Shall we talk about the weather? Everything west of the Rocky Mountains is burning, everything east is freezing. It's like a Rankin/Bass stop motion special about Hell.

The Heat Miser and Cold Miser battle over Las Vegas.

I told everyone: "Don't welcome 2025! Wait until you get to know it better!" Well, here it is, and now we know it just fine.

It can be argued that this is just a continuation of 2024, anyway. The Hawaii fires were last August. Hurricane Helene decided it wanted a mountain vacation back in September, so it headed for the Appalachian Mountains--and flattened them.

Sure, a lot of people up there are in tents and are running short of propane, but it's the South--at least it won't be too cold. Will it?

Getting really tired of the term "record breaking".

Here in northern Indiana we had, as the British might say, "a bit of a cool spell". The high temperature earlier in the week was 30 degrees lower than normal. At one point, the wind chill factor was minus 30 degrees. Fahrenheit. It made me a little nostalgic for the late 70s and 80s, when the phrase was "another weekend, another snowstorm".

Back then Time Magazine produced an article titled "Another Ice Age?" (From 1974. I was convinced I saw that title on the cover in 1977, but it didn't happen.) Global cooling was taken seriously by a lot of people, although even then others warned about global warming. Some of my favorite science fiction stories back then were about efforts to survive the oncoming glaciers.

As for me, I was deliriously happy when I found out the globe was warming instead of cooling. Then I read a science journal article predicting a few areas of the planet might actually get cooler, even as the rest warmed up.

And guess what winter-hating blogger lives in one of those areas?

But there's a difference between climate and weather, and right now the Cold Miser has told the Heat Miser to "hold my pina colada, and watch this". As awful as our Indiana weather has been, this is a mild spot in the country.

A blizzard warning on the Gulf Coast of Texas and Louisiana. A blizzard warning. Snow working its way up the southern states. A snowstorm in New Orleans.

New Orleans! The place looks like North Dakota.

Imagine if they had their Mardi Gras now. All those poor guys with thousands of beads, and they can't get the inebriated ladies to show anything. Have you ever had a frostbit nipple? Okay, neither have I, but I have had frostbitten fingers, toes, ears, and cheeks (on my face, mind you), and I can imagine.

(I wonder what kind of drink a frostbit nipple would be?)

"I don't feel jazzed at all."

 Instead, the guys would yell, "Show us your flannel!"

And the women would unzip their coats, unbutton their quilted shirts, and show their flannel. Why? Because if they can get enough beads, it's another layer of insulation.

So the disasters keep coming, so fast one is still going on when the next one strikes. If you want to keep track, hope the Weather Channel shows a split screen. Or, you could invest in a few more TVs and have each playing a different channel. That may seem extreme, but I have friends in all the disaster areas, not to mention I've always been a weather nerd, anyway.

Still, I wouldn't mind a break from the weather. I'll bet I'm not the only one.

Get our storm and non-storm related books here:

·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

·        Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

·        Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

·        Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

·        Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

·        Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

·        Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

·        Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

·        Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

·        Audible:  https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf

Remember: Books make a good wind break.

[unstablerk800]

𝕊𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤

Rating: Explicit Pairing: RK900/Fem!Reader (third person) Tags (tagging as I go): post-android revolution, kidnapping, angst/fluff, hurt/comfort, Stockholm syndrome, protective RK900, manipulation, solitary confinement, blood, injury, violence, gore, illnesses, RK800, RK800-60 and RK900 are considered siblings, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Rape/Non-con Elements Read on Ao3.

Chapter 12.

Chapter 13. 🔽

Chapter 14.

Word count: 6,244

Notes:

A part of me did not want to continue this story because I've left my heroes in such a good place. But I have plans and ideas, and I've been planning and brainstorming for months, so here we are. I was quiet writing wise because there was a death in my family, two weddings and a funeral in the past few months. I've written, finished, and successfully defended my thesis and will get my diploma in September. Hopefully this calm in my life is the calm AFTER the storm. I've been playing DBH in the past few days as well; getting back to Detroit in winter while I'm trying to survive these insanely intense heatwaves in my city feels so, so good. I genuinely hope that you are all alright, and that this chapter brings you some joy (it certainly brought joy to me as I was writing it). I appreciate you and wish you well. 🫂 Now, let's get back to Detroit. 💙

The natural order of the world was established anew after RK900 was activated. 200,000 of them was enough to hack themselves into everything and destroy half of America. So humans became what they should be in the new world order. They became the slaves, and androids were their new masters.

The vast nothingness lay beyond the confines of the camp where humans were gathered to be sorted out to their handlers. Nobody stayed there for long; each new addition would find an owner within a day or two. Most humans would accept their fates; in the cold, their spirit broke faster than they thought.

Outside the camp, there were a few patrols stationed to ensure that nobody would try to escape. Occasionally, there were one or two fools who’d try; it was inevitable. Humans didn’t like to be in captivity. But, unfortunately, machines were much more clever than them. The deviant androids were cunning; they knew all the tricks humans would try. Still, patrols were needed to either capture those who attempted to run away, or eleminate them if they proved to be too hostile during their break out.

One such RK900, #313 248 317 – 123 was stationed outside. He stood in the cold, seemingly unaffected by it, even though his systems warned him that it’d be desirable to enter a warmer area soon. He had an assault rifle with him, an M16 type; he rested the weapon in his arms, index finger resting beside the trigger, as always.

He occasionally moved to reposition himself, his grey eyes trained on the camp nearby. He stood a silent vigil there, just like many other RK900s in his peripheral vision, half a mile away from him on both sides; the winter morning sun warming his back just a little. RK900's eyes fluttered at the incoming call that appeared in his vision, and upon accepting it, his LED started to circle in yellow.

"Lonely out there, huh?"

RK900 looked down at the snow and smiled to himself. Blip. An RK800. His closest friend. Tucked away in a tall building's office, with a headset, watching the city through the cameras. He was searching for everything suspicious; he could catch several vagabond humans in the past few weeks with simply watching and alerting others. He was the one who noticed and alerted a group of RK900s when there was a battle at the outskirts of town at that supermarket, too; during which an RK900's human was kidnapped a few days ago.

"I'm alright."

"Of course you are, Cain." Blip chirped happily. "94 will be there at 5 PM. He'll take your place over for the night."

"That sounds good", Cain nonchalantly acknowledged.

"Damn sure it does. We barely had time together lately."

"Mm."

"I'm pretty sure I can beat you at Monopoly tonight."

"Hah", Cain couldn't help the smile spreading on his face, and Blip could hear it in his voice, several miles away from him, "you wish."

"You'll see. Just don't be late."

"5:30", Cain still smiled.

"5:30", Blip repeated. "Talk to you later."

Now that he had something to look forward to, Cain resumed watching the camp as soon as Blip disconnected. He spent some time rethinking his relationship with the RK800; how they seemed to take a liking to each other, even though they were almost the same model – even though, ever since the uprising, they were free, and they could do whatever they wanted. Other androids did not frown upon this; it was more odd in their new society to form a bond with the humans they owned.

RK900 heard something move behind him. He didn't turn to look at it; he could hear it clearly that the body and the weight was much less than a human's, so it left him disinterested. Until that something rubbed its body against his leg. With a frown, the android glanced down at his feet, his LED circling in calm, electric blue.

It was a cat.

There were a few seconds while the cat was staring forward, just as Cain did, before it looked up straight in his eyes. The android tilted his head slightly. There he was, with an assault rifle in his hands, sharing quiet moments with a cat that stared back at him with big, curious green eyes. It was a ginger tabby. A fat one. Where did it get food, Cain couldn't even imagine. Maybe it belonged to a family before this?

Cain's lashes fluttered when he realised he had been distracted for a few seconds. He tore his eyes away from the cat's and stared back at the camp. Nothing happened over there.

"Meow", the cat complained.

Cain's brows twitched. This animal probably mistook him for a human. That had to be the case. He wasn't aware animals would open up to androids; although he was aware that some androids preferred animals over humans as pets. Still, he didn't think of himself as someone who'd take a liking to either; he was fine as he was, without responsibilities, with a sense of duty. Apart from his work, there was only place for Blip.

"Meow!" The cat complained again.

Cain refused to look down at it; he had a job to do. He didn't actually need to stand out there, but every android had a sense of duty. There were plenty of things to do in the world; some of them enjoyed surveillance, others liked more dangerous jobs, such as search and destroy potential human groups underground. Cain liked to make sure that humans stayed where they had to stay: at the camp, until they found a home.

"Mrr…"

The cat was circling around his legs now. It walked around him, rubbing its face to his other leg, and Cain's brows furrowed further. What was it doing? He silently researched the animal. From what he could gather, the cat was actively marking him as its own; leaving its scent on his legs, claiming its property.

Cain snorted quietly.

He wouldn't own a human and he wouldn't be owned by anyone or anything, for that matter, either. Not even a cat. The cat walked around him, leaving its scent – and fur! – all over his legs and once black trousers, then, for some reason, it decided it'd make itself comfortable on top of his feet.

The first few minutes were fine. Cain ignored the cat, even though he could sense some sort of weird vibration coming from it. The warmth on his feet actually felt nice, though.

Then he realised he wouldn't possibly move as long as the cat was sleeping on his feet.

Only when 94 arrived did he finally move, waking the cat up when he moved. And as the tabby complained to him again did he realise that it was not fat, but pregnant. Not even that made him seem like he cared about the creature. When he started to walk away, the cat wobbled after him; clearly with the intention to follow him home.

"Hah", 94 chuckled, "it seems she's taken a liking to you."

Cain huffed at the comment. He truly did not believe that he'd care for anything other than Blip. But the creature was persistent. It followed him across the snowy plains, right up to the camp where he opted out of his job. The other androids scanned the creature, deemed her unimportant, and let her be. She shook herself to get rid of the snow in her fur, and, still complaining out loud, followed Cain to the exit where he sought out his automated car. Stopping next to the vehicle, he finally glanced down at the cat who faithfully trotted after him.

"You can't come with me", he explained quietly to his new furry companion, "find someone else to bother."

The cat, in reply, rubbed her head against his leg. Cain pursed his lips and sighed. There was no arguing with a cat who decided to choose him, it seemed. Opening the door of the car, the cat instantly hopped inside, making the android rolling his eyes as he helped it on the passenger seat.

"At least do me a favour and stay still", he murmured to the creature as he turned up the heat in the car for her. It was almost as cold inside as outside. "I need to drive."

The cat ignored him, just started to clean herself.

Cain started to drive. But for only ten minutes, because the next time he glanced at the cat, he realised that she started to give birth to her kittens right there on the passenger seat.

A colourful curse left the android as he did his research what to do in such a situation. Best would've been if he stayed put and waited until all kittens arrived safely. That also meant he wouldn't be able to drive, which meant that he'd be late from his rendezvous with Blip.

Cain cursed again.

"I'll be late", he said nonchalantly as soon as Blip allowed the connection between them.

"Darling, this is the second time you've pulled this", Blip complained and Cain rolled his eyes.

"This once, this isn't my doing, I swear."

"You said that the last time, and it turned out you went to hunt down a group of vagabonds!" Blip groaned. "I hope you're not doing anything dangerous now. You're not a Hunter, Cain."

"You needn't remind me", Cain huffed, "and you needn't tell me what I am."

"Then what's keeping you away from me?"

"A cat started to give birth in my car."

The stunned silence wasn't surprising to RK900. They were androids; the most powerful androids on the planet. Blip probably already mapped out the possible reasons why Cain would be late; this reply was not anticipated. The probability for this to happen was so low, Cain thought Blip simply dismissed it.

"You're joking."

Cain's lips twitched into a smile. Then, he shared his visuals with Blip.

"Holy shit, you're not joking."

"I don't know how long this will take", Cain sighed, rubbing the cat behind her ear who purred reassuringly at him.

"Well, you'll wait as long as you need!" Now, Blip soundeed excited all of a sudden. "I'll go and pick up supplies for them. We'll be cat dads!"

Cain groaned as he turned visuals off for Blip.

"No", he rolled his eyes. "We'll put them up for adoption."

"Why?" Blip argued. "We could take care of them ourselves. We're more than capable– you have a huge space, it's empty anyway, so why not?"

"Do you have any idea how much fur a cat loses over a year? What, year… a month? A week?"

"Who cares about fur? Many of us keep pets at home. Cats, at least, are the least frowned upon."

"That's true", Cain hummed. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad after all. Besides, he wanted to make Blip happy. "Fine."

"Yay!"

"But you'll clean their litter."

Blip groaned, which made Cain laugh.

~*~

She woke up to his touch. Fingers were running down her scalp, brushing through her hair.

"Are you awake?"

Nines. He was there. Any stress that started to build up in her mind was instantly gone.

"Mm", she murmured softly.

Upon moving just slightly, she realised he was holding her in his arms. Her lips stretched into a soft, gentle smile as she opened her eyes to look up in his.

"Do you remember your dream?" He asked quietly, and her brows twitched.

"No", she moved her right hand up to cover her mouth as she yawned. Nines moved his hand away and let her stretch. The bruises on her skin causing warnings flash in his vision. "Where's Connor?"

"He had to go out to get some food", Nines muttered. "He'll be back in a few hours."

She looked a bit sad at the news. RK900 was wondering how could she bond so quickly with Connor; how could their relationship be so... easy? He sent Connor a brief message to hurry it up. If she felt safer with Connor around, then they should know it.

"And Sixty?"

The question caught him off–guard. He sat up with her, tilting his head.

"Sixty is coordinating the punishment of the humans we've caught."

She looked puzzled at that at first. Then, she frowned.

"What will be their punishment?"

"Death."

He could see that her pupils widened at the reply. Her pulse became faster. He wanted to know what was on her mind, so he couldn't help, but ask.

"What are you thinking?"

"Is death… punishment?"

RK900 had to realise that he still did not know enough about her to understand how she was thinking. Every second they've spent with conversation shed more and more light on what she had to endure and what twisted experiments she was subjected to.

"What is death, if not punishment?"

She looked indecisive for a few moments. Then, her expression smoothed out a little.

"Death is mercy."

RK900 stared at her for a while, thinking this over. From an android's perspective, death was definitely punishment; to know that they'd be shut down, with nothing that awaited them. For humans, this was different. They've believed in the existence of the soul – which androids, undoubtedly, lacked –, and they believed that the soul would travel to another plane of existence upon their death.

Views on the afterlife varied; there was a chance that after death there was oblivion for humans – just as there was oblivion for androids –, but they still had some hope.

Soulless machines had none.

But they also had the perk of not being able to feel pain at all. They would not be hindered by sickness, and all parts of them could be easily replaced. Killing a human when their life could be stretched as long as possible, making that existence a miserable as possible – that sounded much worse than a quick death. This must've been why humans came up with prisons in the first place.

"You are correct", RK900 came to the conclusion.

He watched her run a hand in her hair, and he detected fingerprints on her arms. One of those who captured her grabbed her so hard that they've left the marks of their fingers on her skin. Her face scrunched up in pain, and she reached for her stomach as she stretched too high up.

"Where does it hurt the most?"

His voice was quiet, but even then, she flinched slightly. At first, she shook her head, not looking him in the eye. RK900 thought she wouldn't even answer. Perhaps that would've been better for him.

"Everywhere."

"I'll bring you a painkiller."

He moved to get up, but he stopped as soon as he felt her fingers on his arm. He glanced back at her with a frown.

"Don't leave me", she whispered, her lower lip trembling. "Please. I'll come with you."

RK900 wanted to argue, but he also knew that she went through way too many things in the past few hours to be left alone.

"Alright. I'll help you in the wheelchair."

"I think I can walk."

"Are you sure?"

She blinked at him before she pulled away and attempted to stand. RK900 moved over to her side, just in case.

"I'm okay", she murmured. "Just… I just have a headache."

"How bad is it?"

"I can endure it."

"I did not ask if you can endure it, I asked how bad is it", RK900 repeated quietly, gently, resting his hand on her elbow.

"I-" She looked puzzled at his reply. "I don't know. Bad enough it makes me feel nauseous? Dizzy…"

"Then it's pretty bad." RK900 cupped her face in his hands, and she visibly relaxed in his hold. He enjoyed the stuttering around his thirium pump as their eyes met. It made him feel more alive than anything else. "Is your vision clear?"

She blinked up at him, faint colour creeping back into her cheeks when she realised how close he really was. How handsome he really was. She observed the details of his face; the line of his jaw, the moles on his cheek, the line of his nose down to- his lips-

"Yes."

She watched him as he turned his head away and began to lead her out to the kitchen. She blinked, confused, then looked around in the corridor.

"Where are we?"

Her question made him pause for a split second in his train of thoughts, then he remembered that due to her concussion, she'd react with confusion to the events around her. This was perfectly normal. So he did not even worry.

"We're in a tower in the heart of Detroit. We call it the Haven. Currently, we'll be staying with Connor."

She moved her hand on his arm and he could feel she squeezed him gently.

"I've… I've lost Connor."

RK900 stopped walking and looked in her eyes. She looked mildly confused, and she had her free hand in her hair. He just noticed that most of her nails were broken off. He'd need to take care of those, too.

"What do you mean?"

Despite the fact he knew that it probably was not a good idea to poke at her past, he still wanted to know about it. Just a little.

"There were… tests." Her lower lip trembled, and she looked around herself again, as if she was afraid that this place, again, was just a test. "He had a series of numbers on his jacket. He was the first, so I called him One. I asked him what was his name, and… and he chose himself one." Her lashes fluttered, then she glanced at RK900's circling, electric blue LED. "You'll report to them", she muttered, tears already gathering in her eyes. "You'll tell them everything." A heartbeat. Realisation, clearly written in her widening pupils. "They'll hurt me."

RK900 knew what to ask to get the most satisfying answers out of anyone. He knew what buttons he must press in a conversation to gather as much information as possible from others. But there was something about her that made him feel a pang of guilt when he contemplated whether he should press on for more data. Her safety and well-being was much more important than the unsolved mystery that she was.

"I'm not telling anyone anything", RK900 reassured her softly. "You're safe. You're not in that lab anymore. I'm not here to hurt you. Everything will be alright."

She stared at him, stunned, then glanced around in the corridor again – less frantically, but the way she moved her head made RK900 worried a little. It was visible she was truly dizzy. Her hand on his arm loosened, and he prepared himself to catch her at any moment.

"But I didn't get out", she frowned. A thin line formed between her brows as she was trying to find the answers to her own questions that bubbled up in her chaotic mind. "Thirteen… he was trying to break me out. But we… he… didn't make it." Now, the tears were big enough to roll down her bruised cheeks. RK900 watched, stunned, as fear undoubtedly twisted her expression as she glanced up at him again. "An RK900 ripped him apart. I saw it, I- I couldn't- I was so scared-"

"Ssh, shh, it's alright." The gentle soothing had absolutely no effect on her whatsoever. He could detect her rising stress levels, he noticed the panic in her eyes, he could feel her pulse elevate and rise to new heights. "I swear you're safe. Everything you know is in your past. You're out of there. Androids are free."

She observed him as if she saw him for the very first time.

"Then why are you here? Who are you?"

"I am your handler."

"What's a handler?"

RK900 tilted his head just slightly.

"I keep you close to myself. You are mine."

Shit. He couldn't stop himself. It sort of… slipped out.

Her lashes fluttered.

"Yours?"

Shit.

"Yes."

She glanced down on herself; the injuries, the bruises, taking a few seconds to feel the pain all over and in her body. RK900's mind came to the same conclusion as she did – three seconds before she worded it. And he knew what she'd say. Shit!

"So it's you who hurts me now?"

RK900's thirium pump regulator misbehaved. The minor hiccup caused his systems to stagger for a brief second, and it was very different from how it reacted a few minutes ago; his software translated this as a moment of indescribable, excruciating pain. The very idea was so far from him that it would've made him throw up had he been a human.

"No", he said slowly, seriously, "I keep you safe. I will protect you. Whatever it takes."

She stared in his eyes for a few long seconds, then confusion ebbed from her gaze and she shook her head slightly.

"I… I feel funny", she mumbled as RK900 ran his scans on her vitals, over and over again.

"It's alright. You're confused. But it'll be alright." He ever so gently reached under her elbow and escorted her to the kitchen where he sat her down. Then, he cupped her cheeks in his big hands – as all of them, always did. "Everything will be alright. I promise."

He fed her, gave her painkillers, made sure she drank enough, then he escorted her back in the bedroom to let her rest again. She couldn't fall asleep until Connor was back, and even then, she needed both androids' physical presence to finally drift off.

After a few minutes of communication online, RK900 slowly got up and decided to get out of the tower; things weren't as difficult for him as they were for Sixty, but he knew he had things to do, and he knew she'd be safe with Connor. So RK800 just remained in the bed with her, hoping RK900 would be back before she woke up, because he knew she'd prefer him to be back there with them.

"Connor…" Her voice made him open his eyes. He stared at the ceiling for a few seconds before he turned his head to the right to look at her. He was lying on his back, while she was lying on her side, facing him. Her eyes looked clear now; awake and alert. "Where's Nines?"

Connor took a moment to request connection from RK900, who granted it. A split second of data sharing, and Connor murmured the answer.

"He's working. He'll be back in a few hours."

"Mm–m."

She said nothing else, and he silently watched her for a while; his brows twitching upwards a little, while his lips curled upwards ever so slightly. She waited for him to speak again, but when he said nothing, she looked a little puzzled.

"Your little circle is yellow."

Her observation caused Connor to smile a little.

"I was just thinking ", he whispered softly.

He wasn't simply just thinking; he was searching his memory, trying to recover what he'd lost, without much success. Only glimpses of the CyberLife tower came back; nothing solid about her. Some emotions, feelings – mostly fear and the overwhelming desire to protect her.

"I've seen you with this colour a lot", she murmured.

Connor hesitated. He wanted to know more – but at the same time, he wasn't sure he'd like what he'd hear. It could make everything worse. But his curiosity was getting the better of him.

"What was I like?"

His question made her frown slightly.

"Different." She murmured. Then, she moved under the blanket a little, revealing one of her hands. "May I?"

"Sure."

It was odd that she asked whether she could touch him or not, but in all honesty, Connor appreciated her question. She moved one of her small hands towards him, and touched his face. Connor closed his eyes. The sensation was... familiar. New, unusual – humans never touched him like this, and neither did androids –, and yet, something shifted in his software at the feeling. He didn't know, but upon the physical contact, his LED reverted back to blue. Now, it was spinning slower, in almost lazy circles.

"You were different than the other androids, right from the start", she muttered beside him. "I was told they wanted to program you to be the best companion."

Her sentence caused a sour feeling in him. Connor opened his eyes and took a moment to analyze her.

"And? Did they succeed?"

"Yes, they did", she smiled. Ever so gently, she stroked his cheek with her thumb. "You really were the best."

"But that isn't true, is it?" His frown deepened as he started to feel worse. "I didn't help you. I couldn't even... I couldn't even remember you."

"Oh, Connor..." The love in her voice caused his systems to hiccup. That was new, too. New, but somehow… familiar. "You've helped me so much."

"How?"

She moved her hand from his face, and touched his hand which rested beside him.

"You've given me hope."

She half smiled as she entwined their fingers. The warmth of her palm sent various messages in his vision; about her pulse, her temperature. Connor's brows twitched.

"What was hope when you've been subjected to torture I can't even begin to understand?"

He could feel that her hand squeezed his, and he remained silent as he searched her eyes, but even if he could read humans well, he couldn't determine what she could possibly think.

"Hope was everything." Her brows slightly twitched, and he watched as she swallowed as she gathered her thoughts. "You've given me something they couldn't take away from me. They could wipe your memory over and over again. They could make me start all over again with you. But you always came back. You could never, truly abandon me."

"How could that be possible?" Connor caught himself asking the question before he could stop it. His LED whirred to life in amber again. "How was I able to remember if they wiped my memory?"

He sought for the answer but he couldn't find it. He felt like it was right in front of him, within his reach, that he could just understand if he held his hand out.

"I think", she murmured, "that the first Connor… One, as I called him… changed. Or perhaps, the one before you… what was his name…"

Her pupils dilated as she remembered who was there with her before Connor. He was not there for long; he was the last Kamski created, one of a kind, the model CyberLife based RK800 and RK900 on after Kamski stepped down.

"Who was that?" Connor muttered, feeling slightly guilty that he pushed her down a memory lane she probably did not want to revisit.

She blinked, trying to remember exactly what happened between her and that android. Memories flashed behind her eyes as she closed them, making her head ache and making her feel nauseaous again.

"…I think he… he was Markus?"

She flinched when the door to the room was flung open. Sixty took a step inside, his uniform same as Connor's, but in the colours of the sunlit sand.

"Nines told me that you thought death is mercy", he almost barked, then started to pace up and down in the room. "He doesn't allow me to kill those who tormented you."

She sat up tentatively, holding her head with one of her hands. Connor followed suit, sitting up himself, shooting an unfriendly look at Sixty for interrupting their conversation and bringing up this subject when she needed to rest.

"There are worse things than death", she murmured, feeling dizzy again as she glanced up in the blonde's chocolate brown eyes, "trust me. I know."

"Do you want me to stand idly by when they've- I mean, just look at yourself!" Sixty spread his arm out and moved his hand up and down in her general direction. "After all they've done to you- they've- violated you- no, I'm not going to spare them-"

"Sixty, please", Connor complained when he noticed that her stress levels started to rise again. "Must we do this? Now?"

"When if not now?!" Sixty barked back. "I can't rest until they get what they deserve. By rights, we should give them a taste of their own medicine before we end their miserable lives!"

"And why would that be good?"

Her quiet voice seemed to calm him down better than Connor's reaction. Sixty started to pace up and down again.

"I'd feel like I accomplished something. That I took the only value they have left: their lives."

"Because taking someone's freedom when that's what they crave isn't cruel enough?" She whispered. "Is taking someone's life is better than ripping their hopes and dreams away from them?"

Sixty tilted his head, his anger seemingly cast aside.

"What do you suggest, then?" He asked, and she looked positively grim when she glanced up in his eyes.

"I want to take everything they have", she confirmed, "except their lives."

~*~

The spacious room was silent when they entered. She was holding onto RK900's right arm for support, but Connor was on her right side, ready to help if needed. Sixty begrudgingly followed them, but he moved forward as soon as they reached the group of humans and androids. Her abusers were kneeling on the floor, their hands bound behind their backs, and they looked up at her as soon as she arrived with the others. Some android guards with rifles in their hands made it perfectly clear that if the humans tried anything funny, they'd be shot on sight.

Perhaps they should've tried something funny.

She had a hard time looking down and into the eyes of those who tormented her. Four men and one woman survived the attack on the tunnels. She saw all the faces in her nightmares, even the woman's, who was the sister of the man she'd killed when he wanted to violate her. That woman only added to her injuries as she was beating her. She could still feel the pain of every breath she took; her body still hurt with every movement. Sitting, lying down, walking – all way too painful. But she'd been through worse. She never complained. And even now, despite her bruises where her clothes did not cover her, she looked unbothered.

Which made the humans nervous, of course.

Sixty shifted between the group of humans and her. His brown eyes were pleading, and soon did his voice.

"Let me kill them for you. Please, allow me to kill them for you."

Her eyes slowly shifted up to meet his, and she reached up with her right hand to ever so gently touch his left cheek. A sigh left him, he dropped his shoulders, but he did not move away. He knew the answer. And her touch calmed him down. Sixty closed his eyes.

"No", she whispered to him, and Sixty huffed, walking to the left, on RK900's side.

The humans watched them in silence, noticing that even though she had the glowing collar around her neck again, even though she had her handler with her, it seemed like that Sixty asked for her permission and she had enough influence over him that he agreed to her decision. They did not know, or understand, why or how this was possible. All they understood was that they would stay alive.

They had no idea this would be the worst case scenario for them.

"I've spent most of my time in a cell", she muttered quietly, mainly to RK900 and Connor and Sixty. She had her eyes locked with one of the humans, the one who took his time with her, making her scream and beg for mercy. "But when they were angry with me, I spent time in a much smaller cell. It was painted white, and I couldn't even stretch my legs if I sat down in it. It had no lights, no windows. I couldn't determine how many hours, days or weeks I've been in it. They kept me there until they stopped being angry with me."

Her brows twitched, eyes lacking warmth as she stared down at the man. Her throat went dry when she felt that Connor shifted closer to her and ever so gently placed his hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"I'd like the men to spend some time thinking in cells like that." She whispered without blinking at all. "I'd like to give them time to think about all that transpired. We'd see how long it takes for me to forgive them… who knows? Maybe I'll stop being angry with them after a week. Or after three months. Or never."

She finally tore her gaze away from the humans, and she glanced up at RK900 to ask silently what did he think. He was watching her the entire time, not the group in front of them, and now, as their eyes met, RK900 knew he'd give everything to her to have her revenge. No matter how unsatisfying it'd feel for him – he was on the same page with Sixty –, all that mattered was that she'd have what she wanted.

"And the woman?" He asked at last, silently agreeing to her decision.

She turned her head back to the group again. The sister of her tormentor had her eyes full of tears by now, her lower lip was trembling in fear.

"Please-", she whimpered, earning a boot in her lower back as one of the guards silenced her with a kick.

"I remember what she'd told me", she muttered, glad that her memory served her right at the moment. "She said: I'll laugh when they end up using you as their personal fuck toy until we can strike a deal with your brainless machines."

Sixty half turned away to run a hand in his platinum blonde hair and walk a few paces away from them. RK900 remained stoic, while Connor's hand twitched on her shoulder.

"No!" The woman screamed, now, and she earned another kick, this time, right on her right kidney.

"I told you." As she spoke, RK900 could feel her hand squeezing his arm. "I told you that they'd come for me."

"I beg you-"

"I told you that if anyone touches me, I'm going to make you wish you were dead."

"Please-"

"Sixty?" She turned her head to look at the blonde android who visibly had problems focusing after what he'd heard. He still turned to look her in the eye, and her emotionless expression was even worse than seeing her cry from being in pain. "I'd like you to decide her fate. Do as you wish." He stared at her, stunned, but she shifted her gaze at RK900's face instead. "Can we leave, please? I feel so tired."

"Of course", RK900 nodded a little, scanning her vitals, just in case. "Are you sure that this is what you want?"

She glanced down at the group of humans again. The woman was sobbing on the floor by now, the men stared up at her with hatred clearly written on their faces. She knew that this emotion would wear off after a while. She knew they'd become stoic, unresponsive, empty husks in a few weeks. The hopelessness would kill everything inside of them, even their will to live.

But the pain in her body prevented her from feeling sorry for them. Not yet. Not now.

"Yes", she nodded, glancing back up in RK900's eyes. "I am sure."

Sixty watched the three of them – RK900, her and Connor – leave for the elevator before he walked up to one of the guards.

"So?" The guard asked with a cocked brow, then pointed his rifle at the woman still sobbing on the ground in front of them. "What will be her fate?"

Sixty had a few ideas how he could have his personal revenge sated, and chose one method that felt most satisfying for him.

"She'll get what our human had to suffer", he bluntly stated. "I've gathered there'd been rumours of establishing breeding farms. Now that most of the humans have android handlers, it'll probably become a little problematic for them to reproduce. We can't let humans go exctinct, can we?" A smile – which seemed way too dark – stretched on his face. "Until we decide if we'll make those, lock her up like the rest of the group. If it comes together, we'll see how she'd enjoy being a fuck toy for others."

Hearing the pleas of the woman was music to his audio processor. She was quickly silenced and dragged away, though. As the guards approached to grab the men, Sixty raised his hand to pause them. He was a Hunter of high rank; a successful RK800 who had certain… priviliges. So the guards paused immediately, and awaited his orders.

"Oh, one more thing. I want them castrated before they're locked up."

He'd thought of what she said, of course. If she ever allowed them out of their cells, these humans would get handlers of their own, but that wouldn't be a lasting punishment for them. Not physically, at least. And Sixty wasn't satisfied with this verdict. He thought he'd abuse the power he had to make their lives a bit more miserable; taking the one thing they had to find a little enjoyment in lives. To have his revenge for hurting her, and preventing them from hurting others.

"What?!" One of the men shouted, and Sixty grinned down at him before he grabbed the man's collar and pulled him up to stand as if he was a feather, not a grown man.

"Without anesthetic", Sixty added darkly, satisfied at last when he finally saw a flash of fear in the human's eyes.

[edogawa-division]

ARB Birthday Special 2023: Kaoru Shinozaki

~~ September 15th ~~

“There is no great genius without a mixture of madness.”

Login Lines:

“Zzzzzzz…. Gah! I'm up! I'm awake! Oh shit, you scared me! Don't do that! I can feel my heart pounding! Huh? Is this a present?” 

“Why are you even giving this to me? It’s not like my birthday is anytime soon. Wait, what do you mean today is my birthday? Athena dammit! I forgot again!” 

Voice Lines:

“I can't believe I forgot about my birthday for the second year in a row. I mean, I did spend the last few days working on an invention. Oh well, I might as well see what chaos I can get up to today.” 

“Alright! “Operation: Birthday Bash” is a go! Mwahahaha! Major intelligence agencies all across the world are currently waking up to a malware virus that I just sent to their servers!*giggles* It's nothing too bad. All it's going to do is forcibly take control of their speaker systems and play “Never Gonna Give You Up” on repeat all day. Take that you fuckers!”

“Hi Mama, Papa, Nii-san. It's me. I’m doing alright, just turned 23, but I'm sure you all knew that.*sighs* Lately, I've been thinking about what my life would be like if the accident never happened. I think…I would've been miserable, and isn't that a horrible thought? I never said this, but for all that you loved me, none of you ever bothered to understand me. How could you? I was too different. What? You don't think I heard you talking at night? That you thought I walked the line between genius and insanity. That you thought I would grow up to be a villain? That some days you were even afraid of me? Ha! A part of me resents you for that even now.” 

“You know A.D.A is usually the first one to wish me happy birthday, but I haven't heard from her all day, which is pretty strange. I think she’s planning something because she asked me a while back if I had any plans for my birthday all while looking like the cat who ate the canary. Ehhhh…I should probably prepare for the worst. A.D.A can get pretty vindictive when the mood hits her.” 

“Yurikoooo! What did you get me? Noooo! Betrayed by my own mother! Next thing you know I’ll be left out on the cold streets to fend for myself. Oh, the horror! *wheezes* Okay, okay, I’m done! Oh, come on, Yuriko! It's my birthday. Let me live a little! Anyway, did you not really get me anything? Hahaha! I knew you’d never let me down! So, whatcha get me?” 

“A string of numbers? Wait, are these what I think they are? Fuck…Yuriko that place is literally one of the best guarded networks in the world. I could spend years attempting to hack it as Delphi, and even then, I would only be able to make a dent in their firewall. Literally, the only ones allowed to have access to that place are the top and, I mean, top dogs of the underworld. So why? Why give this to me? Why give me access to… somewhere where I make the worst of my genius blossom to life with no consequences? A storm, huh? You can count on me, Yuriko. I promise.” 

“No wait Kanra! *crunch* K-K-Kanra it seems like your birthday hugs get stronger every year huh? My ribs certainly can tell. Oh, what are we waiting for then? You know I love your cakes Kanra! Hahaha! Okay, then what did you get me?” 

“Pfffffftt! Kanra that thing is nearly as tall as you are! Hahaha! No, but seriously Kanra thank you. I've always wanted one of these. How did you even get one anyway? This thing is kinda of expensive. *wheeze* Kanra please! You can't treat a fight like it's a Pokémon battle. Hahaha! Never change Kanra.” 

“A.D.A! There you are! You're even in your android body, too! So I can only assume you have something special planned for me today. A.D.A…your grin is kind of scaring me. The last time you grinned like that, you didn't let me have coffee for 2 weeks. Oh gods, you are banning me from coffee again! A.D.A, please! I need coffee to survive! A.D.A…you’re still not filling me with confidence, but alright, what did you get me?”

“Uhhh…A.D.A? This is just a piece of paper with a time and a set of directions on it. Of course a…A.D.A WHAT DO YOU MEAN DATE??? Y-y-you…dinner…him…error…error…asdkhgkjiwenfkdklyyxgsitzfzjfzkfoxyoaryhdftwehadghffnjkelfhewnejwnjb…*faints*”

Yuriko Lines:

“Happy Birthday, Kaoru. *raises eyebrow* Does it look like I'm carrying a gift for you? *sighs* Are you done with your little charade Kaoru? Birthday or not, please do not wail like you’re the ghost of a Victorian child. Really?  Do you truly believe I would get you anything? What kind of mother would I be if I didn't get my own daughter anything? Now I'm sure you’ll find this quite interesting.” 

“Not just any set of numbers, Kaoru. I had to pull quite a few strings for these numbers. As you know, there's the black market which even a regular citizen can get access to if they look hard enough and then there's █ █ █ █ █ █ █. A global network of various dealers and brokers, hidden behind a series of codes and unknown numbers. Where only the truly dangerous lie, both people and items. It’s so well hidden that not even the various governments are aware of its existence, or if they do, all they know is rumors. Kaoru, I won't lie. A storm is brewing and heading our way. I’m not sure when or how, but I’ll be damned if I don't do everything in my power to make sure the three of us survive. If that means giving you access to someplace where you can be the worst version of yourself, then so be it. I know Kaoru, I know.”

Kanra Lines:

“Happy Birthday Kaoru! *hugs* Eh? Sorry! Guess I got a little too excited. Ah! Nevermind that! Come on Kaoru! I have your birthday cake in the kitchen! First I have to give you your present! I hope you like it!”

“Ta-da! Your very own giant Mareep doll! It is not! I can see over it! Hm? Oh right. So every time I beat someone unconscious I rummage through their wallets and steal all the cash they have on them. Why not? Winner’s rights! If people wanna pick a fight with me they better be prepared to fork over some cash when they lose!”

Bonus! A.D.A Lines:

“Kaoru my dear! Happy Birthday! Oh, I have just a little something special for you today. *grins widely*  Hm? Hahaha! Don’t be so scared, Kaoru, it's nothing like that. I will admit that it was a bit hard to work on the plan without you noticing, but I succeeded. Now, here I have something for you!”

“Why is it the time and location for your dinner reservation for your date with that pretty goth boy! Of course! He seemed surprised when I asked him. He was under the impression that you would be spending your birthday with Yuriko and Kanra, but I waved off his concern and told him you would love it if he took you out for dinner! Oh dear, her mind is erroring. Are you alright, Kaoru? Kaoru? AHH! SHE FAINTED!”

[shadowweaver06]

Race report - Mesa Marathon 10k

So, for the unaware - I'm a middling distance runner. Last weekend, I ran the 10k in the Mesa Marathon. I prepared very little for this - opting to run it on a complete whim when I saw the flyer get dropped in my mailbox warning me of upcoming road closures for my neighborhood back in late December (the Marathon and Half Marathon routes run directly through my neighborhood, and road closures are a thing every year because of it). I've run it twice before (half marathon, both times). First attempt, I DNF'd because I wound up with a stress fracture. Second time I limped my way through the last three miles of the half because I rolled my ankle when trying to dodge running over an obstacle in the street, but I finished it in 3:15. This time around I opted for shorter distance, partly a.) because I'd had covid for the third time in less than a year in late November, and I'd been pretty sick, and b.) because of the compressed training schedule, I was more likely to wind up injured by trying to train too fast - I've done the too-much, too soon thing before. It's not recommended. Also, I'm roughly 35 pounds heavier than I was the last time I ran a race, so that's less than ideal from a "not getting injured" perspective. So, starting in early December I'd gotten back into the swing of regular runs and training, and by the end of the month I was regularly running 3-4 miles at a clip. Meaning a 10k was completely doable, by all realistic standards - so after I got the flyer in the mail, I asked a friend of mine (who also casually runs) if they wanted to do it with me. So off we trekked - sleep deprived (both of us, and my wife, who earns an honorable mention for getting up to drive us to the rideshare drop off), a little hungry (me), and not thrilled about the weather conditions, at 4:40AM, off to Mesa Riverview park on Saturday morning, to catch the bus to the starting line six miles away in the center of town. The race itself? Cold. Wet. Kinda Miserable. We had an unusally cold and rainy week for early Feburary in Central Arizona, and Saturday was... no exception. It'd cleared up at some point on Friday so I'd been kinda hoping it'd stay clear, but no. The weather had other plans. My friend and I (who are both Jewish) did make at least one joke about the weather being our comeuppance for violating Shabbat to run a foot race. We stood there, along with another nearly 2k 10k participants, doing our best to keep ourselves sorta warm and our feet sorta dry (both ends being a quickly lost battle against the weather, which saw fit to give us all hypothermia and budding cases of trench foot on race day) while we waited for the starting gun - both options a mostly losing battle. We made small talk with another casual 10k runner who was participating in her first race since she'd had a traumatic birth of her first child a few years earlier - commiseration about the weather, kids, and various other topics kept us busy and helped distract that the start of the race was delayed by a solid 15 minutes (likely due to rain interfering with the bib-tracking equipment) and needing to sort out logistical factors (such as delayed bus departures from the park to the start line). The race itself was pretty good - I ditched my cheap walmart poncho in favor of not roasting to death inside of it within a quarter mile of the race start, because I did have the foresight to wear layers - a lightweight water resistant jacket over a long sleeved running shirt (G-d bless Lululemon's clearance rack) with my finisher tee over it (I do not personally adhere to the superstition of not wearing the race tee on race day - frankly, it was a needed clothing layer, given that the outdoor temperature as of the time the starting gun went off was roughly 45F, and I'm a desert rat who no longer has the constitution to think that those sorts of temperatures are balmy in Mid-Feburary).

Miles 1-3 of the race were pretty non-notable. The course was flat, I felt pretty good for only getting 4 hours of actual sleep and having only eaten two slices of buttered (vegan) toast for breakfast before being herded out the door by my wife. Even the familiar companion of the niggles associated with having plantar fasciitis in both feet (thanks to wearing worn-out shoes for one too many long-ish runs), were notably absent for this portion of the race. Somewhere around mile 4, while dodging a group of slower run-walkers who were taking up far too much real estate on the middle of the race course, I wound up planting both feet directly into an annoyingly deep puddle, and got to enjoy the distinctly unpleasant sensation of my feet squelching with an irritating amount of water for the remainder of the race.

At around mile 4, I'd stopped to walk for a few seconds because my heart rate was climbing too high and I was beginning to feel breathless (a sign of going too hard for too long - and I did not have an inhaler with me, so I needed to back off my 10:02 pace that I'd been running for nearly the last mile), and another runner caught up and was like, "No, keep going! I've been using you as my pacer!", so I resumed my run, albeit at a slightly more sedate pace of 11:35, which increased to 11:59 as I approached the aid station at mile 5. At mile 5, the numbness of the cold weather finally wore completely off, and I started to feel the familiar discomfort of my heels screaming their displeasure at the abuse I put them through at me, which forced me to slow down even further to around 12:15/mile. Which, for me- is still a pretty good pace. I slowed and walked for about 30 seconds to catch my breath at around the 6 mile mark, and finished the race after that. It was exhilarating to run this race, despite the cold-ass, rainy weather, and I had a great time both cheering on other runners and being goaded on by other runners myself. (I encountered a group of male charity runners who were running the race on a complete lark, and who had not trained at all for the race, and we had a good chuckle about the fact that they hadn't trained and they were jealous of my lack of being winded at the pace they were running but couldn't maintain for more than a minute or two at a time - we'd commiserated over getting overtaken by the half-marathon leaders at a pace that was frankly envy-inducing and looked much easier than the effort that I was putting in for much slower speed). It was also fun cheering on my friend, who was running it with me!

Final Race stats:

And before anyone asks - I'm planning to run the half or the full next year. Hopefully... a bit faster than my 10k pace. LOL. Let's see if I can pull it off without injury!

[scotianostra]

November 14th 1910 saw the birth of poet Norman MacCaig, at 15 East London Street Edinburgh

He made his living as a primary-school teacher. He was a lifelong pacifist and during World War II served a term in prison for his beliefs. There is a suggestion that this became a shadow over his subsequent career and that advancement was blocked because of it.

I've said this before but I sometimes wish I had been born a few decades earlier, having started drinking in Milnes Bar in the late 80's/early 90's so I missed the likes of MacCaig, Tom Scott, George Mackay Brown, Robert Garioch and Hugh MacDiarmid who used frequent the place, especially MacCaig and MacDiarmid, who used engage in flyting, which had it's origins in medieval times. Flyting is a ritual, poetic exchange of insults, if you think of modern day rap battles, then take it back several hundred years and in old language, you get the idea, I can imagine being at the bar listening to these word smiths joust with each other.

Anyway when MacCaig eventually left teaching he was appointed Edinburgh University’s first Writer in Residence in 1967. In 1970 he joined the English Department of Stirling University, becoming Reader in Poetry. He retired in 1978 and enjoyed a long period as a freelance poet. He died on 23rd January 1996.

I love a wee poem to myself in posting and this one I can really relate to them having spent many an November night out in the cold nights in Edinburgh.

November night, Edinburgh.

The night tinkles like ice in glasses.

Leaves are glued to the pavement with frost.

The brown air fumes at the shop windows,

Tries the doors, and sidles past.

I gulp down winter raw. The heady

Darkness swirls with tenements.

In a brown fuzz of cottonwool

Lamps fade up crags, die into pits.

Frost in my lungs is harsh as leaves

Scraped up on paths. – I look up, there,

A high roof sails, at the mast-head

Fluttering a grey and ragged star.

The world’s a bear shrugged in his den.

It’s snug and close in the snoring night.

And outside like chrysanthemums

The fog unfolds its bitter scent.