#(and it was so bad she had plans to escape the city in the middle of the night to minimize the chance of being followed)

[autumnoakes]

why did it take me like. at least 3 playthroughs of claire's scenario to realize that the woman on the table in the orphanage wasn't a mannequin like i originally thought but an actual dead body

[sunflowersandsapphires]

You will become it

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!Reader

summary: When Frank lets the stress of the holidays get to him, he accidentally pushes you away.

Based on the prompt that @hellskitchenswhore posted about: Thanksgiving or Christmas Day with either Matt or Frank, inspired by the quote "If you’re raised with an angry man in your house, there will always be an angry man in your house. You will find him even when he is not there"

warnings: swearing, descriptions of anxiety, allusions to past trauma

a/n: Ugh I could write a MILLION of these because it's so relatable. I hope that this brings you all some comfort this holiday season.

w/c: 3.1k

To no one’s surprise, Frank fucking hated the holidays. After losing Maria and the kids, it was just a horrible time of year filled with bitterness over the gap in his life and the fact he’d never have a normal winter again. 

He tended to throw himself into his vigilante work, bringing the most permanent form of justice to assholes all over the city. Thanksgiving and Christmas were spent alone, unless you considered his guns valuable company, eating bland food and steeling himself against the shitty weather because he was too stubborn to buy a thicker coat. 

But then he’d met you. 

Karen had introduced you over the past summer, sort of. He’d stumbled onto the blonde’s fire escape in the middle of the night—startling the two of you who were having some kind of girls’ night after a tough week. And once Frank had collapsed, unconscious, onto the metal grates he stood on, Karen was forced into an explanation to prevent you from calling the cops. 

You’d adjusted to the knowledge that your best friend was willingly helping a fugitive faster than anyone expected—immediately jumping in with wide eyes and assisting Karen as she cleaned and dressed Frank’s numerous wounds. 

When he came to, he was settled on Karen’s couch, blankets draped over his lap. Across the room, you sipped from a wine glass as you flipped through the pages of a book. He’d hoarsely asked what you were reading and, after the initial shock from him speaking to you had worn off, you’d smiled and asked if he wanted to read with you. 

Frank was eternally smitten by your thoughtful nature. You were an angel on earth and, for some fucking reason, you were determined to brighten Frank’s life with your company, though he repeatedly reminded you that he didn’t deserve you. Despite his bumbling compliments and gruff personality, you’d eagerly agreed when he’d asked you out to dinner a week after meeting you—and you’d been together ever since. 

You hadn’t been dating long, your relationship still fresh enough to count the months spent together on one of his rough hands, but his perpetual grouchiness was slowly being chipped away by your adorable smile and apparent need to spend the majority of your time tucked against his side. 

Frank had fallen head over heels for you at the speed of light, so saying “no” to your sparkling doe eyes when you batted your lashes at him was damn near impossible. Which was how he found himself in his current predicament. 

While out at a bar with you and your colleagues at Nelson, Murdock, and Page, Red—always the antagonist—had smugly asked him if he intended to spend the holidays with you. It wasn’t a secret amongst your circle that you weren’t overly close with your family. One too many bad memories had resulted in a quieter holiday season without said family, a preferred alternative to the hours of manipulation and abuse you’d previously endured during the winter months. 

Frank was aware that you didn’t have family plans for Christmas, perfectly comfortable welcoming you into his house for an intimate few days complete with fantastic food (that the two of you would cook together) and cuddling in front of the fireplace as you nodded off. You agreed that it had been the perfect way to spend Thanksgiving, so Frank had assumed you’d be alright having a similar Christmas celebration. 

And maybe you would have, had Karen not suggested that Frank host a Christmas celebration at his place for a larger group. 

“Frank, you’ve been bragging about the turkey you cooked for a week. It’s honestly rude of you to withhold that from us.” She remarked, smirking at his resulting scowl. 

“And on the holiest day of the year too.” Murdock shook his head, shit-eating grin spreading across his face as Frank scoffed. 

“Fuck you, Red. We don’t wanna host your sleazy ass for Christmas. Right, sweetheart?” Frank’s confidence had vanished when he saw your bashful shrug. 

Avoiding his gaze, you picked at the label on your beer bottle. “I dunno, Frankie. I don’t think I’d mind a few more people…” Your voice was quiet, hesitant, but there was a hopeful edge to it that he couldn’t ignore. 

It took him all of 3 seconds to cave to your apprehensively optimistic gaze, his heart melting as you bit your lip nervously. “Sure, darlin’. What the hell?” 

He was regretting his hasty agreement now, though. 

Standing in his kitchen, surrounded by Karen, Matt, Curtis, and—thankfully—you on December 23rd, trying desperately to get the cheese sauce for his mac and cheese to combine properly as the four of you drank beer and laughed boisterously around him. As always, you were more helpful than anyone else, offering soft praises and sweet smiles as you cooked side by side, but Frank’s irritation was steadily building and even you couldn’t stop it. 

It didn’t help that he hadn’t slept well all week, familiar nightmares viciously overtaking his subconscious as soon as he closed his eyes. And the lack of sleep, combined with the way his head was pounding as he worried over the pot on the stove, meant his patience was thinner than a fishing line. 

“For fucks sake, thought y’all were here for a goddamn reason. Is this a social event now?” Frank groused, whirling around to face the four people in his kitchen as yet ANOTHER cheese sauce failed to form smoothly. 

You all fell silent, though everyone but you rolled their eyes at his grumpy tone. Not used to this side of Frank, your face fell—eyes widening as your partner barked orders, creating a much different atmosphere than the peaceful one that had surrounded your perfect Thanksgiving. Shuffling backwards a step, you stood rigid as a statue as Frank scowled. 

“Karen, wash the China I took out. Curt, chop those veggies. Murdock, peel those potatoes.” He pointed to each of them in turn before turning to you. “And clearly I can’t make this shit to save my life so you figure it out while I iron the table cloth.” 

Nodding dutifully, you removed the pot behind his hips from the heat, scraping the lumpy bechamel into the trash before making another roux. You knew Frank didn’t mean to snap at you, he was just on edge about hosting the gathering. No one else was concerned about his demeanor, so why should you be? Trying to quell the churning anxiety in your chest, you diligently completed every task you were given, silently whipping up a number of sides as the sun began to set. 

Eventually, the five of you had prepped everything but the turkey, including the decorations and table set up. Waving farewell to the other three sous chefs, you lingered by the door as you closed it behind them. 

You and Frank had previously agreed that you’d stay over for a few nights to watch Christmas movies and bake cookies, your two favorite traditions that you hadn’t shared with anyone for a few years. However, after witnessing his clear frustration, you were apprehensive. Did he still want you to stay? 

Because of your history with men taking their anger out on you, Frank’s discontent had brought out a side of you that you never wished to experience again. You were still pretty sure he hadn’t meant it, but your certainty was fading by the minute. 

Stepping back into the kitchen, you began scrubbing at the pots in the sink as quietly as possible, hoping that if you handled the rest of the work in silence, Frank wouldn’t have any reason to be upset with you anymore. Unfortunately for your nervous heart, Frank’s mood wasn’t quite over. 

“The fuck are you doin’,” Came a harsh voice from behind you. 

Willing yourself not to startle, you stayed facing the sink, your back to your raging boyfriend. “Just cleaning up, love.” Your voice was meek, but it luckily didn’t waver. 

“And I ain’t capable of doin’ that myself?” His stern response hit you like a brick. Shutting off the faucet, you wiped your hands on a towel and turned to face him, brow furrowing in confusion. 

“Of course I think you’re capable. I wanted to help you, I—“

“It’s funny, really. Y’all wanted me to host this goddamn thing and you don’t think I can do my own fuckin’ dishes?” Frank looked at you, incredulously. He never asked for your pity. 

“Frankie—“

“I don’t need your help. Get out.” He said, jerking his head to shoo you out of the room. 

Choking on an inhale, your eyes stung with unshed tears. “O-ok, Frankie.”

As he restarted the stream of scalding water, you gathered your things and headed out into the night. 

Turning off the tap, Frank dried his hands before surveying his kitchen with a satisfied nod. Banishing you from the kitchen was rude—he knew that—but, ultimately, it had allowed him to unwind while efficiently tidying up the sprawling mess that had manifested during a day of cooking. Exhaling forcefully, Frank felt a pang of guilt in his gut as he remembered how abrasively he'd treated you today. Ready to beg for your forgiveness, and offer a few ways he might be able to make it up to you, he strode over to the couch where he figured you were laying. 

“Sorry for kickin’ ya out of the room, sweetheart. Guess I needed a minute to calm down. Did ya still wanna watch a movie?” Rounding the arm of the couch to kneel before you, Frank was hit with a wave of dread as he was met with the sight of empty cushions. Treading into the bedroom, his bed was similarly bare, and his bathroom was dark and vacant. 

Heart rate spiking, he spun around in the main room of his apartment, looking for any sign of your whereabouts. Your purse and coat were gone. You’d left, but why?

Suddenly, a chilling thought occurred to him as he replayed your previous conversation. 

“I don’t need your help. Get out.”

He hadn’t clarified that he still wanted you here. You thought he had demanded that you leave the apartment altogether, not the kitchen while he worked. 

Shit, shit, shit. 

Scrambling for his phone, he snatched his keys and flew down the stairs as he dialed your number. The phone rang endlessly as he sprinted to his truck down the block. Eventually, he received your voicemail. FUCK. 

Turning his keys in the ignition, he called again. “C’mon, darlin’. Please pick up.” 

Getting your voicemail again, Frank growled in frustration, before his screen lit up with a text. 

You: Hey, bubba. I can’t talk at the moment. Is something wrong? Are you alright?

Closing his eyes in relief, and gritting his teeth as he was smacked with another wave of guilt, he cursed himself. “Of course I’m not alright,” He thought to himself, “I sent you away, sweetheart.” 

Flicking open his phone, he hastily typed out a question. 

Frank: Are you at your place?

You: Yes, love. 

Frank: I’ll be there soon. 

Speeding down the city streets, Frank couldn’t help but wish he’d realized his mistake earlier. Maybe a flower shop would've been open then. 

Chewing absently at your thumbnail, a new rush of tears rolled down your cheeks. God, you were such a coward. You’d avoided Frank’s call because you simply couldn’t handle him yelling at you for whatever you’d done to upset him. Instead, you’d texted him, hoping to hide behind a wall of messages as he explained your mistake. But it hadn’t worked that way, he was coming here. To scold you. Maybe even break up with you. 

The thought of Frank leaving you because of something you’d unknowingly done to offend him forced the air from your lungs with a sob. Desperately trying to get your emotions under control, you threw back the wine in your glass as you stared blankly towards the door. 

The footsteps in the hall were deafening, each one sending a chill down your spine as you willed your aching legs to hold you upright. A key scratched in your lock and the door slid open, the large shadow of your boyfriend extending into your apartment. Huffing out a breath as he addressed you, Frank frowned at your tear-streaked face. 

“You cannot just leave like that,” He explained, shutting the door with a loud bang that made you jump. “Did you walk home? It’s dark out!” 

Frank stepped forward, reaching his arms toward you and ice flooded your veins as you responded to the familiar motion. 

Stumbling backwards, you curled in on yourself. “I’m sorry, Frank. I’m so sorry. So sorry.” Tears splattered on the floor beneath your downcast face. You were trembling, terrified of being screamed at, or worse. 

That was when it all clicked for Frank. Your wide eyes as he bossed you around. The way your jaw remained clenched for hours as you cooked. The lack of your giggles and quips and smiles for the majority of the day. You were afraid. He’d made you afraid. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” His voice broke as you sobbed, just out of his reach. Each of your choked inhales broke off another piece of his shattered heart. “Oh, honey, no. Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry.” 

Crouching in front of you, keeping enough distance to hopefully not spook you further, Frank brought his hands into a placating gesture. As he exposed his palms to you, you looked at him with glassy eyes. “Darlin’ I’m not upset with you. I ain’t ever been upset with ya, not once. I was grouchier than normal today and I didn’t realize I was being too cruel. I ain’t mad, sweet girl. Could never be mad at my sweetheart.” 

You nodded, but didn’t seem to be registering his words. Crumbling to the floor in front of him, you were practically hyperventilating at this point, stuttering through apologies between shallow breaths. 

“Sweetheart, you’re gonna choke. Let’s sit on the couch for a minute.” Supporting your weight as you collapsed into his chest, Frank scooped you up and carried you over to the couch. He settled down, sitting your shaking body in his lap. Shushing you gently, he tucked your head under his chin, running a broad hand along your spine. “Breathe, sweet girl. Can’t have my baby suffocatin’ because of my dumb ass.” 

Breathing deeply to demonstrate the action for you, Frank eventually felt your body still, your inhales evening out. 

“‘M so sorry, Frankie.” You whispered hoarsely against his neck. 

“Nothin’ to be sorry for, my beautiful girl. You were just tryin’ to help. I’m sorry for bein’ such an ass.” Pulling back from you to study your face, Frank brought a hand up to cradle your jaw as he swiped away the remaining tears from your damp cheeks. “I didn’t mean to send ya home, darlin’. I just wanted you to sit on the couch while I cleaned up.” Continuing quickly as he watched your lips part with another apology, he added, “That ain’t your fault either. It definitely seemed like I was kickin’ ya out. That’s also on me.”

Nodding hesitantly, you leaned into him with a tired sigh. “Ok.”

“Did ya want me to leave, sweetheart? I know I scared you,” 

“No!” Your hand came up to grasp his jacket, clinging to him fearfully. “Don’t leave me, Frankie, please.” 

“Hey, hey, I ain’t leavin’ unless you want me to, darlin’.” Frank promised, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I’m here as long as you’ll put up with me.” 

“I don’t want you to leave.” You murmured, tracing a finger over the folds in his lapel. 

“Then I’ll be here.” He assured you, stroking a hand over your back once again as he reclined, tugging you on top of him and covering you both with a blanket from the back of your couch. “Right here. Always.”

 The pair of you sat in silence for a spell, focusing on getting your breathing back under control. Eventually, Frank pressed another kiss to your head before offering an explanation. “I shouldn’t have snapped atcha, sweet girl. I was tired, and irritated, and I let it out on all of you. That ain’t fair and I’ll try to keep my cool next time.” 

Nodding gratefully against him, you mumbled a quivering “Thank you.” 

“Of course, doll. I scared ya when I kicked ya out?” He asked, hoping you’d clarify so he could prevent this panic in the future. 

“Mmhmm.” You confirmed. “I, um, I don’t do well when people raise their voices. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be sensitive.” 

“Hey now,” Frank admonished as gently as he could. “I like my sensitive girl. I’ll try not to yell. I didn’t know it would bother you so much, darlin’.” 

You shrugged. “People got angry with me a lot when I was a kid. Especially the men in my family. Maybe I was an easy target, I don’t know. But I jump to conclusions now because of it.” 

“That makes sense, honey. That’s your brain tryin’ to protect you from big scary guys like me.” Frank joked, but you poked his chest. 

“You’re not scary,” You chided. “Just big.” 

He chuckled at that. “Well, I’ll try to keep bein’ ‘not scary’ and promise to listen whenever you choose to warn me about this stuff, ok?” 

“Ok.” You agreed, lips twitching into a faint smile as he brushed his nose into your hair. Turning your face to his, your lips met in a sweet kiss. 

“Have I done anythin’ else that bothers ya?” Frank asked, fear sparking in his chest. 

Shaking your head vehemently, you snuggled into him. “No. You’re wonderful.” 

“Ok. Just tell me, darlin’. I never want ya to be afraid of me.”  

“‘M not afraid of you, Frankie. Promise.” 

“Ok, sweetheart. Did ya wanna go to bed, or stay here for a bit?” 

“Could we go to your place?” You asked timidly. 

“Of course, love. But only if you let me carry you out to the car. My poor girl has had a rough day and it’s my job to make that up to her.” 

You giggled. “Mmm kay.” 

Frank spoke quietly to you as you traveled back to his apartment, talking about the book he was reading and what he was excited about for the holiday. You remained quiet, the exhaustion of your panic attack weighing on you, but you were filled with a pleasant warmth as Frank shared more of himself with you. 

Once he’d carried you into his home and tucked you into bed, you were barely awake. 

“Sleep well, sweetheart. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” Comforted by Frank’s rumbling promise, you drifted off, dreaming only of his smiling face. 

[camshell]

Watched '89 Batman just so I could read the original script and get mad at the changes. Spoilers, but also this won't make a lot of sense if you haven't already seen the movie

Starting off strong with the descriptions. I'm sure cranking up Jack's age some 20 years wouldn't make much of a difference to the plot...

I was going to say that the casting director is no Andrea Romano, but considering his name drops before Keaton's, I'm sure Nicholson was chosen through a more particular process. I wonder though, was that choice alone responsible for the "Joker kills Bruce's parents" idea? (side note, did Joker 2019 come up with *anything* new at all??) Or was it something that came up after they decided to erase Dick Grayson from the film to replace the original conflict?

Oh yeah, the Flying Grayson's episode happens in the original script. But let's look at Ace Chemicals first — which is not the name they used in the movie, just to piss me off

They cut out a whole section of the gang breaking into the plant. It's not a bad choice, I just liked the date makeup observation. Now to the meet cute--

Paralyzing talons? Are you kidding me, they got rid of that?? Oh, silly me, of course they did — that would get in the way of Batman's classic blowing-up-thugs rule.

Bruce didn't throw Jack off the platform here, but interestingly enough we still see him feeling guilty when he finds out that he inadvertently created Joker

And yes, this is almost the exact same moment that Tom King wrote in Batman/Catwoman. Gotta love the trope of Bruce bringing up his guilt over creating his arch-nemesis in the middle of an intimate moment with a beautiful woman on his bed. Now some random things they changed that stood out to me:

Every single time Joker acts blatantly childishly or is described as being on the verge of a tantrum is so funny. Sad that we could've had this instead of him thirsting over Vicky Vale.

This is the during the attack of the mimes on the city hall. I assume they decided to cut it out because that sort of ptsd goes a little against installing machine guns on the batmobile and striking down your enemies with military grade missiles.

They didn't pull a Joe Chill/Joker switcheroo here, Vale's guilt just dreamed of this scenario. The script goes a little deeper in expanding her relationship with Bruce. She figured out he's Batman on her own — saving up Alfred's skin — but unfortunately so does her colleague. As a self-designated nice guy, Knox tries to get Batman to break things off with Vicky. He's also waiting for the news of Joker's attacks to quiet down before exposing Batman's identity, but don't worry, the scripts solves this beautifully later on.

Anyways, instead of the confrontation at the apartment of Vicky Vale (also known as Bruce's "let's get nuts" moment and the devil in the moonlight quote) we have a chase scene that leads to Dick's introduction. Before that though comes probably the second scene I most wish they had kept in the movie

Yes, Batman chases Joker on a horse, first wearing a tuxedo, then his whole gear. Do you see what they took from us? What could've been?

Joker kills the Graysons with pretty explosions, Dick jumps onto Joker's van and tries to kill him but alas is detained by Batman and batnapped.

Batman then asks Alfred to take care of Dick and the last act is set in motion. Pushed by anger and guilt, Batman blows up Ace Chemicals (tho here we're supposed to believe the thugs managed to run out before the place crumbled) but Joker escapes and goes to set the balloon parade in motion.

Before he can blow away the public, Knox and Vicky create the bat signal to alert Batman about the balloons and Joker's plans are thwarted. Unfortunately (cough) this costs Knox his life. But hey, at least Batman's identity is safe.

Big explosions ensue, the batwing goes down and Bruce is almost left dead in the debris. Dick Grayson, now dawning his makeshift Robin suit, saves him and runs to enact his revenge on Joker.

They enter the cathedral, Joker and Dick exchange some bullets and Batman eventually catches up with Dick, knocking him out again. Then Batman manages to crawl up the stairs through inhuman effort against his fatal injuries, passes out just before reaching the final floor and uh... I'll just post this next part in full

He's made a friend... Attempted murder-suicide... Joker's taken out by a horde of Bats... This would probably have replaced Fight Club in my list of favorite movie endings if it ever came into existence.

Before I close up on our villain and hero's demises, I do have something to point out that I think was improved in the final script. Joker's Smylex — basically Joker Gas, originally meant to be called Smylenol — got added to beauty products and caused some people to die in the movie. I say some, because while we see 13 deaths reported there, here it's something that comes closer to the class of hundreds. He doesn't even invent it, originally; he just steals the formula from an old CIA project. Because the fatal product doesn't happen only when certain products are mixed together, a whole lot more end up becoming victims and Batman can't do much about it except cut out the source. It's just a detail, but I liked that they thought of an alternative. I may not like the Joker mob boss origin, but at least they let him keep his chemical prowess.

Now to the ending. Batman had a last minute bout of clarity and threw the bomb away, tangling it in the helicopter's ladder

Something something Batman offering Joker a last comfort before death... Endgame and Arkham City and...

Okay, that's pretty much what I've got. Am I mad we didn't get to have this? Kinda. But also, I didn't have big expectations for what actually came out, and it's still a pretty funny film. Besides, I think when it comes to Batman and mainly Joker, sticking to the comics, games and animations is the best way to go. Best to keep the incels focused on the live adaptations anyhow

[magical-girl-coral]

Good Guy Porter AU (AKA @wh1teegretorchid and I jokingly starting a prompt together at discord only for it to get wildly out of control.)

*Instead of being raised in the Cliffbreaker clan, Porter's father stole him away while he was still a baby to live in Bastion city where the stench of the city could cover their tracks. Thanks to the spy tongue curse, Porter's father couldn't tell his son why he ran away from home or why they can't connect with their family. All he could tell him was to stay in Bastion City no matter what.

*It stayed that way until Porter's father was diagnosed with lung cancer from the toxic air of the city. He joked in his last days that if he knew this is how he would die, he would picked up a pack to enjoy the ride. He died six months after starting his cancer treatment.

*Traumatized from his father's dead and pissed at the city for taking away his only family, Porter buried him as close to the Elmville as possible before moving their permanently. He bought a nice house in Tillering with what his father gave him in the will and became a health nut as a trauma response.

*This Porter is a redemption paladin in the honor of his father, who always believed in second chances, especially after escaping the Cliffbreaker cult.

*He starts working at Aguefort a week after settling down at his new home. He meets Jace Stardiamond at a teacher's night out during a weekend and they immediately entered a situationship.

*This Porter didn't meet Kipperlilly until near the end of her freshmen year. He found a day after the prompocalypse, punching a tree out of jealousy of Riz's success as a tragic rogue and frustration of doing everything by the book but getting no rewards for it. He suggests to her to multiclass into barbarian so she'd have a healthy outlet for her rage under watch of an adult. She reluctantly agreed when Jawbone said it was a good idea.

*While training with Porter after class, he starts suggesting her to go on adventures rather than killing pests in the school backyard behind the school's back, teaching her to break rules that hold her back. The High Five Heroes become actual accomplished adventurers on their own and Kipperlilly's need for validation from strangers weakens after bonding with her team and bonding with Porter.

*Shits goes sideways after the High Five Heroes return from their spring break. Lucy starts to get distant from everyone else, backing out of team bonding activities and failing her cleric classes. She gets more snippy and abrasive, causing concern about her friends and family. On the day her loved ones gathered for an intervention, Lucy goes missing.

*One the same day Lucy is declared dead from a scrying spell, the world delves into darkness for six months thanks to Riz. A voice in the back of Kipperlilly's head points out how convenient was for Lucy's killers that the Night Yorb was released on the day the town found out she was gone. Her hatred towards the Bad Kids come back with a vengeance.

More details under the cut.

*The party joins Porter's unofficial bootcamp to train so they could catch Lucy's killers. Oisin got buff, Ruben became emo, Ivy started dressing punk and they all maxed out their levels. They called it "the summer from hell."

*Porter and Jace were hit hard by Lucy's death too. Porter's developed a nasty temper and Jace was stressed out from trying to keep everyone in line. Porter's house became their HQ.

*Kipperlilly had already pretty much lived with Porter and Jace since her sophomore year thanks to a combo of found family and her parents being that neglectful. What was once a happy home turned into a horror movie where they're all trying to survive each other's grief.

*In the middle of summer when Gilear declared he plans on going on a trip with Hallerial, Jace is named the vice principal. He used his new found position to rewrite the party's achievements into just grinding rats in the Far Haven Woods so they'll be underestimated and whoever killed Lucy won't go after them. They renamed themselves the Rat Grinders to sell it, as much as it pained them.

*Ruben's song Get Mad in this world is a part of a five song demo album where he wrote a song for each stage of grief he suffered following Lucy's death. Get Mad was the anger stage and it became the song of the summer after a bunch of other teens related to it thanks to the lack of sun.

*Kipperlilly's campaign was written in Lucy's honor, calling out the school's irresponsibility with the students' livelihood and all the other injustices they've faced. In this timeline, Kristen does not call her four different dogs. Even she knows better here.

*Mary Ann joined the owl bears as a healthy outlet to the the stress caused Lucy's death and her teammates going fucking insane. She secretly burns through a rage every morning to stay stable.

*One of the plot ideas is that the bad kids get to be treated like NPCs for once, for better or for worse. Adaine's wizardry supplies get payed by Oisin along with the rest of the wizards to point out how insane it is that they have to buy it themselves. Kipperlilly hacks into the police data base to find possible suspects and releases Sklonda's final paycheck since she was already there. Gorgug and Fig aren't being personally groomed by Porter so they have an easier time with their classes. Kristen didn't lose Cassandra in this world and Fabian gets a new maid who's a "friend" of Cathilda's to look after him. He wonders what that speared sun tattoo on her shoulder means though.

*During the shrimp party at Fabian's, Oisin and Ivy's job was to drug up people at the party to loosen their tongues and gather more information was Kipperlilly was sneaking around at the police department. Oisin continued to hit his shots after meeting Adaine, but his aim was a lot shakier and he kept looking over his shoulder to see if someone is still there.

*When Fig disguised herself as Lucy and went away on her skateboard, the hair on Ivy's arms stood up. She iced out Fabian from the rest of his friends and once they were finally alone, she took out her knife form her boot and threatened to skewer him if he doesn't tell her what he knows about Lucy. Fabian confessed he thought they killed Lucy because their first quest involved a preppy girl selling out her blue skinned friend to get a position in the student body. A misunderstanding cleared but a mental breakdown on the horizon, Ivy and Oisin book it out of the party to relay all the information to the rest of their party.

*Buddy's introduction was planned by Porter with recommendations in the hopes of getting the party a cleric with a deity that's the exact opposite of Lucy's might make it easier on the Rat Grinders. Unfortunately, he has the same bright eyed and believing there's good in everyone attitude that Lucy had, so he only pours salt in the wound.

*Buddy is having the worst time. His new party was visibly on the brink and none of his words of advice are helping. Helio won't answer his prayers when he asks what's going on. His grandfather is breathing down on his neck and keeps insisting on converting the rest of the Rat Grinders even when Buddy respects their no. And why does everyone seems angrier lately?

And that's all for now because this post is getting heavy and my computer is gonna break soon. I have enough for a part two but only god knows when that will be written down.

[tfyoulookingatgiuxs]

You're not the only one who asked me to do a part two of "Together Forever" so I'll oblige you right away. Sorry if I'm late... :(

You can't stop us

Billy Hargrove x Female!Reader

(PART 2 OF TOGETHER FOREVER. PART 1 -> HERE )

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: After you finally arrived in California your dreams begin to come true, for both you and Billy, but the threats still lurk but you both were ready for any eventuality.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Fluff, angst, fem!reader, stalking, bad language, daddy issues, comfort, attempted murder, weapons, mention of blood, too much drama.

𝐀/𝐍: So, I admit that I received requests for a part 2 on "Together Forever" but I thought "Nah, I'll never be able to do a second part, in short the one shot ends here" but thinking about it I wanted to try and then I felt like I'm guilty of not wanting to satisfy you. And here it is, I hope I have made my way into your hearts and satisfied you as always, obviously let me know what you think! Sorry for my english this is not my native language. Please support and reblog. Hope you enjoy! (DIVIDER NOT MINE)

In the middle of the road in the dark where the streetlights illuminated the path towards California, that evening even if you were happy you couldn't help but admit that you were nervous, both you and Billy were escaping from the city, from your home which in the end was never such, especially for your boyfriend. Billy was worried that when his father found out about his escape, would come looking for him, and when he came to get him he would face the wrath of a man who would have no qualms about beating his own son. But you reassured him, you told him that everything would be fine, you were prepared, you had it in your head that you would face and console any of his worries. Driving and looking at the road calmed him down and in fact during the journey you noticed his breathing becoming regular again. Before it was a mixture of many emotions that he didn't know how to handle, he still has to digest all this and you didn't expect it to happen right away.

During the journey Billy admired the rain beating on the glass and the street lights, while you fell into a deep sleep. Needless to say, Billy took the opportunity to admire your face those times he had to stop at a traffic light. You arrived at your destination after a couple of hours. You had suggested to Billy that you stop in front of a hotel where you would spend most of your time, at least until you found a house. The money you had set aside for this occasion was enough for your plans. You told Billy about a house by the sea and he went crazy at the idea. He would wait though, you wanted to take it slow and your boyfriend shared your thoughts.

"How do you feel?" You asked him as soon as the two of you entered your room. The lady at the counter didn't pay attention to the time and that's why she didn't say anything and left you the room keys. Billy looked impressed and still slightly agitated.

"Strange..." he admitted catching a glimpse of his smirk. Until two years ago, he didn't think he'd set foot in California again, but there he is. In a hotel room in California.

"I feel strange too. Change has an indescribable taste" as scary as change may seem you knew it was just a matter of habit.

"Yeah..." your boyfriend seemed really speechless, he watched you for a moment and you both burst into joyful laughter. You gave him a kiss and then took a good look at his emerald green eyes.

"Now let's go to sleep, it's late" Billy hugged you sighing.

"Do you think we'll make it?" You placed a candid kiss on his neck.

"Yes, we'll always do it, babe" you cheered him up. You both then went to sleep sleepy but happy to have taken the first step. The rain continued to fall and this was the soundtrack that resonated in that evening full of emotions.

You and Billy stayed at that hotel for a couple of weeks. Billy found a job as a lifeguard again at a busy pool nearby, while you easily found a job as a nurse in a hospital in San Francisco. In fact, after three months spent at the hotel, together you moved right there, to San Francisco, to the house that overlooked the sea. Billy was truly happier than ever, you had never seen him like this, you were proud and satisfied to have finally made Billy Hargrove happy, the boy who was as popular as he was unhappy in his own life. However, you decided not to be heard from again, especially with Billy's family. You were still in contact with your parents and every now and then you would inform each other about what was going on in Hawkins.

Needless to say, the Hargorve family went nuts, called the police and reported Billy missing. Your boyfriend didn't care about this, he was fine with it, he wanted to stay there with you and hope that everything went well.

“I won't let that bastard find us, I assure you” He said as soon as you put the phone down.

“I understand babe, but in case he does we should be careful” The thought of Billy's father finding you terrified you. You were happy and intent on building a future together, thinking that someone would destroy your dreams alarmed you, especially if the person who destroyed them was the man who had ruined Billy's childhood.

“You know if your father finds us all hell will break loose” you walked closer to him. The night succumbed to what was your new home. Still not well organised. All you had was a mattress with blankets in the bedroom and a newly built kitchen thanks to your father who came to visit you. Luckily, your parents have always been by your side and they came to visit you, they met Billy, welcoming him with open arms and offered to buy you some furniture for the new house. Your boyfriend loved them. They were kind and thoughtful, they wanted the best for you and they promised him that they would do everything to please you. The only fear these encounters could spark was whether someone would follow them or somehow bring the Hargrove family to you.

Billy, wearing his white tank top let out a sigh and looked into your eyes.

"I can only imagine it. It will definitely kill us" you took his hand to reassure him in some way.

"But we would make sure he didn't do it. If one day he were to find us we would be ready for anything, okay?" He nodded and rested his forehead on yours.

“I'll leave it to your clever nurse mind” you laughed, he had really been obsessed since you got the job.

"Do you like the fact that I'm a nurse, Hargrove?" You teased him lightly and he admired your lips.

"Pretty much," he replied with that bad boy grin that accompanied him throughout his school years. You pulled him into a kiss, forgetting the discomfort that your problems caused you, you needed to leave them aside and think about yourselves for a moment.

It had now been almost a year since you and Billy decided to escape from Hawkins and the situation seemed to be improving. The house was well structured, now you no longer slept in a narrow mattress but in a real double bed. They were all satisfactions that you didn't think would come true. You worked a lot on the house together with your parents. Your father bought you the sofa for the living room as a gift and your mother bought you the television. You were happy with these unexpected gifts, especially when you looked at Billy's smug look in amazement. Speaking of the rest, you bought everything yourself. Home was no longer a problem! It was as you expected. Convenient and comfortable and will fully satisfy your needs. The fear that someone might find out about your escape had passed and your mother no longer reported news of Billy's disappearance. You thought that the police had most likely realized that Billy Hargrove had run away from home and therefore dropped the matter, and this heartened you.

Every now and then you stopped to gaze out over the California sea, not mentioning the fact that Billy had started surfing again when you came to the beach. Like a child, he kept jumping the two meter high wave and this almost made you cry. You wanted to know if his mother was proud of him now, if she had deigned to see him like this at least one last time before abandoning him to his cruel fate.

Now it had become a fixed appointment to come there every Friday to savor the beauty of the sea, too bad for you that today Billy had to work in the afternoon, so you decided to take a walk alone along the beach while the sound of the seagulls dragged you to the one it seemed to be an eternal peace. It was getting late and you went home with your sandals still dirty with sand. Your house wasn't that far away so you made the journey on foot. It wasn't dark, the days had gotten longer but the feeling of being chased began to pervade your mind. You turned around and a hooded man was two meters away from you. You didn't want to give it any weight, maybe you were wrong. However, anxiety began to boil in your blood when the man continued to be behind you. You were alone on that sidewalk in a street where there wasn't a living soul.

Out of fear you started running and the man behind you shouted the worst things at you: insults of all kinds, insults against your family and more. You didn't know this person but you were hoping to somehow outshine him. You arrived home in a panic, quickly opened the front door and locked yourself in and started crying. While he chased you you didn't scream or cry for help and you didn't know why. You gave in as soon as you entered the house. Billy came down upon hearing the commotion and as soon as he saw you collapsed in front of the front door crying he immediately headed to you.

"What happened?" He asked worriedly still wearing his red lifeguard uniform, apparently he had just returned. You sobbed but tried to collect yourself. You immediately threw yourself into his arms still with the ongoing shock.

"He chased me. I-I don't know this man but he chased me and yelled at me" you explained trying not to stutter. Your boyfriend hugged you, replying that everything will be fine and to describe the man.

“I didn't get a good look at his face, he had a hood on and his head was bowed as he walked” You answered him and he nodded and that idea immediately crossed your mind “What if your father found us?” Your boyfriend turned pale at the thought and immediately checked out the windows. Meanwhile you calmed down and your tears stopped.

"There's no one outside" he began and in the meantime you wiped those dried tears on your face.

Billy approached you "Everything will be fine, if that dickhead dares to show up he will find us ready to welcome him" He smiled at you and for a moment you stopped to look at him.

In all this time you hadn't actually thought about what if his father would find you. You always wanted to believe that one day it would never happen and that you were most likely just putting on too much air, but instead he was there chasing you and spitting all his arrogant phrases at you. Billy, however, did not lose hope, he was determined and hid a grudge, the one he held back for years. You stood up and silence fell. The sunset was splendid but the tension didn't let you enjoy the view you would have liked to admire at the sea.

Suddenly two clear shots shattered the living room windows and you let out a scream.

"Billy!" A man yelled outside your house "I know you're there, you and that bitch of yours, come out!" Furious as if you had unleashed the wrath of a divine god, he continued to fire undaunted until he reloaded.

"Go away!" The son answered from the broken window, he couldn't go out, it would have been too dangerous, you immediately ran to the phone calling the police.

"Don't you dare to give me order!" Another shot, but this time towards the boy who luckily had dodged the shot.

“I said: go away!” He repeated as his eyes became teary. He wanted to give in but was refusing to. You stood there watching him fearing for his life which was currently more at risk than yours.

The police told you they would be there soon and you jumped down when you heard another shot.

"Babe be careful!" You warned him.

"Come on Billy! Be a sissy, be a limp dick, just like your mother" That was enough to trigger his anger. Your boyfriend walked out of the house and was confronted by his "beloved" father. You called him back scared but he just ignored you. In that instant you saw the worst version of Billy. You saw the pain that had ruined him, the violence he had suffered that made him aggressive and violent just by looking at him. You stood still in front of the front door staring at him, the gun of the man in front of him threatened him not to make another misstep. His gaze fixed on his father, as if he had no fear, but you knew all too well that Billy feared him more than anything.

The man started laughing "There he is! Billy Hargrove, the missing boy from Hawkins. Your mother was worried, you worried everyone, including your sister! For what? To have a fling with the first slut you found on the street" a punch she hit him "Don't you dare to call her that!" Billy said then punched him.

"You ruined my life!" He managed to say, but instead of wanting to vent with words he preferred to damage his face. You were mortified at the sight, but you skipped a beat as soon as you saw the man pointing the gun at the boy.

"Billy!" You screamed at the top of your lungs running towards him. A blow on his leg that made him scream out in pain. The man struggled to get up, but before letting him make one last move you thought of grabbing his sandaled sandals as you ran towards your bleeding boyfriend. You threw them at him and the sand hit him in the face, blinding him. He put his hands on his face, but pointed the gun forward and fired blindly. From behind you took the gun and threw him to the ground.

You turned to Billy who forcefully stood up with his leg hurting.

"Are you alright?" You said out of breath due to the adrenaline of the moment. He nodded. The sound of police sirens could be heard in the distance and the man on the ground opened one eye, taking in the sights.

"It's over, Father" Billy said the last word, marking it with seriousness, as if it were a threat.

“You are like me, and soon this girl will understand it too” He dared to say.

“He's not like you, he's the opposite and I won't let you ruin his life again” You allowed yourself to say.

The police arrived and with them also the ambulance after seeing an injured person. You had escaped a real danger, surely your mother would have pestered you with calls to find out about your health, but at the moment you didn't want to think about it. Billy sat in the back of the ambulance while they stopped his bleeding by covering it with a bandage. You approached and together you saw the man being arrested. You still didn't know how he managed to find you, but one thing was certain: he hadn't succeeded in his aim. Your boyfriend looked at you.

"See? We did it" he said, you gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"I would say so" He smiled at you.

"You saved my life Nurse Williams" You sat next to him.

"It's not true, I didn't do anything, I just got lucky" You didn't feel like a heroine, at all. You hadn't worried about whether this moment would come one day, so you just felt like a ignorant for putting your problems aside.

"Lucky or not, this is proof that no one can stop us. Luck or not" You rested your head on his shoulder.

He was absolutely right.

[whatwooshkai]

Fav number 15 since it is May for the smoke and mirrors ask!

"What are we looking for, again?" Heatwave asks for what must be the hundredth time.

Quickshadow takes a deep vent and adjusts her sunglasses. "Plates, cups, napkins. Then we can go home."

"Seriously, why do we need any of this?" Heatwave continues, running a hand through his hair. "It's not like we'll be using any of it!"

"I know," Quickshadow snaps through gritted dentae. "Boulder and Graham are handling the ones for us. And I know you know that, so shut your mouth-"

"I'll shut your mouth-" Heatwave snarls and lunges forward, but there's an unmistakable beat of excitement that escapes through his field.

So he wants a spar. In the middle of a Party City.

"Not happening," Quickshadow says, attempting to push him away from her, just for Heatwave to shut his tangibility off and make her stumble through him. "Don't do that in public!" she snaps. "What if someone saw you?"

Heatwave doesn't answer, just sticks out his glossa at her.

"You're such a sparkling," she mutters, turning back to the shelf.

"And you're a bitch," Heatwave snaps back. Great. Now he's using human words.

Quickshadow takes another deep vent and tries to ignore him.

Of course they stuck her with him. Heatwave, on a good day, is a great sparring partner and makes good conversation. But on a bad day, especially when he's bored, he's about as mature as a newforge.

The other rescue bots must've planned this. Even Kade jumped at the assignment to distract Blades while the rest of them split up to go shopping for his forge-day surprise party. She should've known something was up.

Alas, there is nothing she can do now but deal with it.

"You really shouldn't talk to your mother like that," a shrill voice chides, and Quickshadow's battle protocols nearly click on.

She needs to remove both of them from this situation right now before Heatwave causes a scene and gets them both kicked out.

The offending voice comes from a human woman, with silvery blond hair tied up what she assumes is uncomfortably tight in a bun, with her stature just as taut as her hairdo.

Heatwave opens his mouth, and before Quickshadow can stop him, he blurts, "That's my dad."

Oh, Primus. The worst part is is that he seems genuine. Like he thinks that's the actual term that should be in use here.

Quickshadow swoops in behind him, placing both hands on his shoulders and steering him towards the other end of the aisle. "Go find the orange napkins, will you?" she asks sweetly, but sends urgency pulsing through her field. "I'll handle this."

By some divine act of Primus, Heatwave doesn't fight her, instead walking off in the direction she's pointed him in with only a shrug.

"I'm sorry about that," Quickshadow says to the woman, who's giving her a suspicious look. Oh Primus, how do I fix this... "He's adopted," she starts, wracking her processor for a believable way to continue this story. "He had a really bad home life, you know, and a lot of trauma with his mom... it's just easier for him to call me Dad, and he tends to get a little defensive about it. You know how teens can be," she says, drawing upon all her knowledge of human terms and things she's seen in Blades' favorite soap operas.

And it works. The woman's glare drops immediately and she holds her hands out placatingly. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" she says quickly, waving her hands a little. "I didn't- I shouldn't have assumed, I'm sorry. Have a wonderful day, you two." And with that, she's rushing out of the aisle.

Quickshadow heaves a full body sigh, dragging her hands down her face. "The things I do for you," she mumbles, before turning back to Heatwave, who seems to still be attempting to figure out what a napkin is. "What were you even thinking?"

"Parental figures on Earth are 'dads'," Heatwave says matter-of-factly, making an educated guess and guessing wrong, but they are plates, so Quickshadow doesn't correct him. "I was just correcting her for our story."

"Only male ones are 'dads'," Quickshadow tells him. She pulls the napkins off the shelf and the cups, knocking them into the cart. "Female ones are 'moms'. You should know that."

Heatwave rolls his optics. "There are no female creators on Earth. That's only in movies and stuff."

Quickshadow takes a second to process the information given, before suddenly it clicks. Neither the Chief or Doc Greene have wives. No wonder he'd think that. "Well, there are. So next time someone says it, just going along with it. Or better yet, let me do the talking."

Heatwave grumbles something unintelligible, something about Kade being a liar, then fixes his optics back on her. "Are we done yet? Blades is blowing up my comm, he knows something's happening behind his back."

Quickshadow sighs again. "Yes, we're done."

[thr-333]

Question for One and a Half Futures Au! 🖐️ If, in a third timeline, the family gets split up during a mission, leaving Leon, mini-Leo and the old man having to work together… how would it play out?

How does Mini-Leo juggles -read: struggles - teamwork between a sad old man version of himself with crushing guilt and depression, and a traumatised young adult/late teen version of himself with - understandably - massive hard feelings? You know… the fun times!

(Pretty sure the only reason Leon and F!Leo would agree to a brief truce is only because of their now-youngest self’s well-being and safety).

For clarity’s sake

Old man Leo: Leonardo

Middle: Leon

Youngest: Leo

The mission, excuse his french, had gone tits up.

It wasn’t even meant to be a mission! Leo had suggested going to the hidden city to see if there were any of the foot clan hanging around mostly as an excuse to explore. He should have known better than to use the foot clan as an excuse. They weren’t the Kraang but they were up there on his futures selves shit list.

Good news: No foot clan.

Bad news: Big mama was very much around, and she was pissed that their little Kraang escape had destroyed her hotel.

Which was NOT his fault. The wave after wave of goons sent their way didn’t seem to care. They had all been split up into groups. Leo wasn’t worried, these guys were small fries they would be able to take them out with ease. HE should be able to take them out with ease.

“If we go along the north hallway-”

“That takes us to the armoury,”

“Exactly,”

“No way, we need to go out of the exit here,”

“There's fighters stationed there,”

“Uh guys?” Leo tried to cut in. His olderselves glaring at each other down as they continued their hushed argument. The tension radiating off the two was choking.

“But then we’ll have space to regroup, and ambush,”

“Getting past those fighters is more dangerous than facing down the guards-”

“We could-” Leo attempted to cut in.

“-if we go past the armory theres a hidden passage to Big Mama’s office-”

“Oh so now you want to go to her!”

“I’m trying to keep us safe,” Leonardo scowled.

“Are you?” Leon spat, scars twisting with his furrowed brows, “All of us?”

Oh great, they looked seconds away from trading blows. Leo hated being alone with both of them. They dropped all airs of civility. It was all cutting words and knives that were intended to stab and twist.

“Hey it’s not a bad plan,” Leo slid in between the two, trying to be a visual buffer. Difficult when they were both heads and shoulders taller than him, “Swing by, ask what the heck dude and bing bang boom big mama leaves us alone,”

“See he agrees,” Leonardo reached out, going to place a hand on Leo’s shoulder. The youngest turtle was wrenched away before he made contact.

“No, no way,” Leon pulled Leo behind himself, becoming a shield as he snarled at Leonardo, “You don’t get to make plans for him,”

“I’m doing whats best,” Leonardo insisted, voice cold and hard, like Leon’s grip on his arm.

“Yeah, you always do don’t you,” Leon’s voice lowered to a hiss, “Greater good and all that, tell me how’s that gone for both resistances you led?”

The hallway turned frigid. It was a step too far, Leo could recognise that, but neither of them could. It had gone past ‘too far’ for them nearly a decade ago.

“Yikkkeeessss,” He tried to slide out of Leon’s grip but the slider held firm, “Well we have to do something so how about-”

“We’ll go to the exit,” Leon said with conviction, turning and dragging Leo with him.

“Hey, wait, wait wait,” Leo pulled back, digging his heels into the ground, “We don’t really wanna deal with this every time we come to the hidden city, I think we should go along with his plan,”

Leon looked back at him. Leo could and had dealt with a lot. Leo could deal with his Dads disappointment. Leo could deal with anger, as itchy as it made him under his shell. The yelling and stuff was just like how it used to be with Raph.

What he couldn’t deal with was the fear Leon looked at him with. Some part of his eyes in the present and the rest a thousand miles away in another time, another memory.

“No. no. no please don’t say that please,” Leon let go of his arm to cup Leo’s face, thumb running over his mask in the same spot Leon’s was nicked and tattered, “You can’t, please, please, please, don’t listen, I’ll keep you safe, I’ll come up with a plan,”

“If I listened to your plan’s I’d never do anything,” Leon stepped back, needing to jerk his head out of the others hold, “Look we don’t have to do exactly that but-”

“This needs to be done,” Leonardo stepped forward, hand landing heavily on Leo’s shoulder. Leon’s eyes snapped to the contact, pupils narrowing into pinpricks, “With or without you,”

“Uh, I don’t think you should…” Leo tried to move away from his counterpart's touch as Leon started shaking, blue light flaring around the slider.

“Let Him Go”

Blue lightning arched around them. Leo could hear shouting down the hall as their position was given away. That was secondary to how Leonardo was tensing up defensively as Leon grabbed his swords. The blades glowing like daggers of light. His shoulders were hunched and the shadows being cast over his face made him look feral. Fear stretched around his eyes and the snarl on his face. His weight shifted giving himself away the moment before he lunged.

Goddammit.

[comicarc]

𝐆𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬

A take on what happened to Claire, Leon, and Sherry after the Raccoon City incident where they meet the reader.

wc: 2010

Two strangers sat at the bar scar ridden with guns latched at their sides. After quite the eventful night, they drowned their nightmares in alcohol. Of course, anyone in their situation would most definitely have done the same, yet others in the bar did not extend this courtesy.

“So, Claire , any plans after we get back on our feet?” One stranger spoke as he inhaled another bottle of wine.

“I’m going to follow through on what I started. I just know Chris is alive out there, waiting to be found. How about you, Leon ?” Claire gestured to Leon.

“I don’t know, but I sure as hell won’t be going back to work any time soon. I’ll just spend the rest of my days enjoying the delectable taste of alcohol.” 

After two hours of drinking, I asked the two, “Y’all ready to pay off your tab yet?”.

“Yeah, sweetheart , one sec,” Leon replied before reaching into his pocket. All he managed to pull out was the inside of his empty pockets. He turned his head to Claire to which she shrugged her shoulders.

Both were armed and seemed to be dangerous. It would be a bad idea to provoke them, so I offered, “Oh what the hell. You two look like you’ve been through hell. Your drinks are on the house.” Looking into Leon’s mesmerizing blue eyes I continued, “My courtesy, pretty boy .” 

Despite their intimidating presence, they were kind enough to profusely thank me as they both left the bar and headed into the motel nearby. They seemed to look friendlier than they had before they entered the bar, but the feeling of death still loomed near them. 

Curious about their circumstances, I ended my shift for the night and followed them into the motel. I know it's bad to spy on people, especially strangers, but there was something off about them. Heading to the front desk, I booked a room on their floor.

In my head, I weighed the pros and cons of spying on them. If I was to find out that they were really bad people or they needed help, I couldn’t forgive myself for not acting when I had the chance. On the other hand, they could be trying to enjoy a vacation, but who would want to come out to the middle of nowhere? Seeing as I was already in my hotel room, I decided to continue my spying.

I paced around the room for an hour, trying to form a plan in my head when I heard a door open. Peaking from the peephole in the door, I saw Leon talking to Claire and a young girl about getting some new clothes and money. He was very handsome, so it made sense he was already taken. Despite my disappointment, I continued observing the couple. Eventually, Leon left and headed out of the hotel. 

An hour later I heard his footsteps in the hallway. Looking through the peephole once again, I saw Leon slowly walking down the hall. He was stumbling with every step until he fell and let the bags in his hands disperse. Without thinking I opened my hotel door and rushed to his side, helping him up.

“Are you ok?” I inquired.

Startled by my touch he got up and took a step away from me before answering, “Sorry about that, and thanks for your concern. I’ve had one hell of a night so I’m still a bit on the edge.” 

I bent down to pick up the items that fell from his bag and handed them to him. With a smile, I continued, “I know it isn’t in my place, but you and your wife both looked spent in the bar, so I was wondering…what happened to you both?”

After a few moments of processing my words, Leon laughed heartily as if I told him the best joke he had ever heard. After settling he explained, ”You mean Claire? She isn’t my wife, we just met last night. As for what happened to us…we escaped from Raccoon City, and I’m sure you’ve heard the news of what’s happened there recently.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I thought with the guns and the scars that you lot were dangerous. Darn me and my wild imagination. If you need anything, feel free to let me know, I’m staying in the room right there.” I gestured.  

“Thanks.” He walked down to his room and winked at me before entering.

- Later That Afternoon -

As I entered the motel's common area, I noticed Claire and Sherry sitting at a table, engrossed in a game of cards. The room was filled with a warm ambiance, and I decided it was the perfect opportunity to introduce myself and join their company.

Approaching the table with a friendly smile, I said, "Mind if I join you two? I've been meaning to introduce myself properly. I'm y/n."

Claire looked up, her eyes lighting up with a welcoming expression. "Of course, y/n. It's nice to have some company. I'm Claire, and this is Sherry."

Sherry glanced up from her cards, her gaze filled with curiosity. "Hi, nice to meet you," she said shyly.

Taking a seat at the table, I continued, "So, what game are you two playing?"

Claire shuffled the deck of cards and smiled. "We're playing Go Fish. It's a classic. You're more than welcome to join us."

With a nod of gratitude, I settled into the seat beside them and observed a few rounds. As the game progressed, we engaged in lighthearted conversation, discussing our favorite hobbies, and interests.

Amidst the laughter and friendly banter, I couldn't help but notice the bond between Claire and Sherry. It was evident that they had become a makeshift family, supporting and caring for each other during their challenging journey. 

After a few games of Go Fish, I decided to take a moment to address Sherry directly. Leaning forward, I asked with genuine interest, "Sherry, what do you enjoy doing for fun? Any hobbies or activities you're passionate about?"

Sherry's eyes sparkled with excitement, and a small smile graced her lips. "I love drawing and reading," she replied. "Sometimes, Claire lets me borrow a book or a notebook to draw."

"That's wonderful," I replied, genuinely impressed. "Do you have any favorite books or artists?"

As Sherry began to share her favorite books and artists, her shyness faded away, replaced by a growing enthusiasm. 

Eventually, Sherry grew tired and headed back to their motel room to fall asleep. Now, standing at the entrance of their doorway, Claire leaned against the frame staring off into space. 

"You seem lost in thought," I remarked, curiosity piqued. "Is everything alright, Claire?"

She let out a wistful sigh before responding, "It's just that... Sometimes, I can't help but think about my brother, Chris. He's been missing for so long, and I still hold onto the hope that he's out there somewhere."

I reached out, placing a supportive hand on her arm. "I can't even begin to imagine how difficult that must be for you, Claire.”

A small, grateful smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a worn photograph. She handed it to me, saying, "Working at a bar in the middle of nowhere, you’ve probably seen all sorts of people right?”

I nodded and she continued, “This may be a long shot but this is a picture of Chris. It's the only physical memento I have of him. Have you…seen him by any chance?"

I took the photograph gently, examining it. In the picture, a determined-looking man with a kind smile stared back at me. I could see the family resemblance between Claire and Chris, a shared strength that ran through their features.

“I remember him. He came with someone else a while back, talked about heading east. I hope that helps.”

A flicker of hope danced in Claire's eyes as she leaned in closer, her voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. "Thank you…"

- An Hour Later -

I was relaxing on a bench outside the motel, preparing for another late-night shift at the bar. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow across the street. It was then that I noticed Leon approaching, his charismatic smile lighting up his face.

"Hey there," he greeted me, sliding onto the bench beside me. "Mind if I join you?"

A playful smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I scooted closer to make room. "Of course not. I could use some company."

We sat there in comfortable silence for a moment, simply enjoying each other's presence. The quiet ambiance of the evening allowed our unspoken emotions to intertwine in the air. My curious glance at him quickly turned into a hungry stare.

The amber rays danced upon his features, highlighting the rugged lines of his face and giving him an almost ethereal glow. His expressive blue eyes, softened under the evening sky, reflecting the hues of the setting sun. The fading light played upon his chiseled jawline and the hint of stubble, adding a touch of rugged charm to his already captivating presence. As the sunlight bathed him, it brought out the subtle shades of warmth in his tousled chestnut hair, lending it a radiant sheen. Stray locks gently brushed against his forehead, giving him an effortless and carefree appearance. A soft breeze stirred, causing his attire to flutter gently. The fabric of his shirt clung to his form, hinting at the sculpted muscles beneath.

He caught on to my intrusive gaze and turned to me, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of gratitude and affection. "I never expected to find someone like you in a place like this.”

“What’s that supposed to mean.”

“Just…you entrance me.”

“Oh really,” I let out a light chuckle.

In the heat of the moment, I leaned forward toward him. Leon leaned closer, closing the gap between us. His lips brushed against mine in a tender, lingering kiss. 

Pulling away, Leon began, “Y’know what’s funny?”

“What?”

“I never caught your name.”

“Well, I guess you’ll find out next time,” I taunted, as I got off the bench and walked toward the bar.

- The Next Morning -

Claire had opted to leave early in the morning, leaving Sherry and Leon alone with me. As I ended my shift at the bar in the early hours of the morning, headed to the motel to meet the two. As I stepped into the hotel lobby, excitement brimming in my heart, I froze in disbelief at the sight before me. 

Agents clad in dark suits and stern expressions surrounded Leon and Sherry, gripping their arms firmly, their determination evident in their actions. Leon's eyes widened in shock, while Sherry's face contorted with fear and confusion.

"Wait! What's happening?" I called out, my voice trembling with a mixture of concern and desperation. But my words seemed to fall on deaf ears as the agents continued their forceful extraction of Leon and Sherry from the hotel.

At that moment, a surge of adrenaline coursed through my veins, propelling me forward despite the fear that gripped me. I rushed towards them, my mind racing with a million questions and the need to protect the newfound connections we had forged.

"Stop! Please, let them go!" I pleaded, my voice filled with raw determination. But my protests seemed futile against the unyielding authority of the agents.

Leon's gaze met mine for a fleeting second, a mix of frustration and helplessness mirrored in his eyes. I could sense his silent plea, urging me to stay safe and not put myself in harm's way. But I couldn't bear to watch them being dragged away without putting up a fight.

As they walked Leon out the door, he called out, “When I come back, will you go on a date with me, sweetheart ?”

I replied with tears welling in my eyes, “Only if you trade that gun for some roses pretty boy .”

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Two)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: As Act One progresses, you'll notice the time skips between chapters get a little bigger. These guys have an eight year relationship and it would take me forever to write out the entirety of it lmao. The point of Act One is to give you insight into their relationship so you understand for Act Two.

The inspiration for this story was the prologue and Act One was never supposed to be as big as it got. I just wanted to lay a foundation for their relationship and got reeeeal carried away lololol In my opinion, the real meat of this story is Act Two. The whole of Act One is just a build up lmaooo

Placebo - Special K

Coming up beyond belief On this coronary thief More than just the leitmotif More chaotic, no relief

I'll describe the way I feel Weeping wounds that never heal Can the savior be for real Or are you just my seventh seal?

No hesitation, no delay You come on just like Special K Just like I swallowed half my stash And never ever wanna crash No hesitation, no delay You come on just like Special K Now you're back with dope demand I'm on sinking sand

Gravity, no escaping Gravity Gravity, no escaping Not for free I fall down, hit the ground Make a heavy sound Every time you seem to come around

They walked down the street, his apartment building luckily on the road the bus stop was on so they didn't need to go far. He fished his fob out, holding it up to the scanner and hearing it beep to signal the door was open. He watched her as she glanced around, wonder on her face as if she was impressed by the foyer as he led her to the lift. Didn't want her trudging up four flights of stairs. 

“This is so… swanky,” she murmured, an amused smile on her face as she looked at him.

“It's alright,” he shrugged as he pressed the button for the lift. He knew it was nice, much nicer than his childhood home. He didn't think it was too fancy though. Wasn’t some fucking penthouse in the middle of the city centre. 

“It’s more than alright, Simon…” she scoffed, “it’s probably best we came here and not my place,” she added and when he looked at her, she had a guarded look on her face that made his brows furrow. He didn't like it. The doors to the lift opened and he led her inside, pressing four and watching the door close.

“Love… you could live in a council house in the middle of Moss Side and I wouldn't judge you for it. I grew up in fuckin’ Gorton, for fuck sake,” he muttered as he squeezed her hand. He didn't need her thinking he was some stuck up snob when he was far from it. She smiled then, raising a brow at him.

“It's not that bad,” she snorted and he felt himself relax as she seemed to lighten up again. “It's just a small studio thing. It's above a florist’s, makes the rent cheaper. I work at Cafe Metro in town, doesn’t exactly equal great pay,” she explained softly, looking a little self conscious. He knew the cafe she talked about. It was opposite the Arndale centre and he’d passed it a fair few times. He tugged her closer, nuzzling the side of her head and relishing in the light laugh that he caused. 

“Maybe you should show me sometime,” he murmured hesitantly, unsure how she’d react to suggesting seeing her again when they hadn't even fucked yet. Instead of recoiling or making a comment to refute him, she smiled brightly as her cheeks flushed a pretty pink. 

“We’ll see if you get sick of me yet,” she smirked but he saw something flash behind her eyes and he wondered if she’d briefly thought of her piece of shit ex. He had every plan to make her fucking forget his name by the end of the night.

“Don’t think I'd ever get sick of you, sweetheart,” he admitted, unsure why he even told her when he couldn't quite understand his own feelings. He'd known her less than an hour yet he felt like he’d known her a lifetime. The resulting smile from her made everything worth it. It was the kind of smile that stopped the world turning. The kind of smile that caused men to go to fucking war. He was doomed and he wasn't even mad about it. 

The door opened with a ding and he led her once again out of the lift and down the corridor to apartment 4F. He turned the key in the lock, hands shaking with anticipation as he led her in. This wasn’t like him at all, he wasn’t the type to fucking tremble at the thought of touching a woman. It struck him then that he’d never invited anyone to his apartment other than Tommy, Beth and his mum. He’d never brought a girl back here because he could hardly sneak out at first light if he fucking lived here. 

It felt right though, bringing her here and he watched with some hesitance as she looked around and took it in. He felt a little self conscious then. He didn't have much, the bare essentials and since he was off with the Army a lot, it looked slightly unlived in. It didn't help that he was a neat freak, cleanliness being instilled in him from the military. There were a few items though that meant things to him. The quilted blanket his mother had made him that was thrown over the back of the couch, the pictures of Tommy, Beth and his mum around on the walls. The newest addition was a scan of Tommy and Beth’s baby that was tacked to his fridge by a magnet in the shape of an army tank. 

His eyes were glued on her as she took it all in, wandering over to the couch and touching the quilted blanket with a little smile on her face. It was made of black and camo squares. She turned her eyes to him then and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. He wasn't used to this. 

“You want a drink or anythin’?” he asked, wondering what he even had in his fridge since he wasn't expecting company. She fluttered a smile at him as she shook her head, sauntering over to him looking like a fucking angel that fell from heaven just for him. She stopped in front of him, toying with the hem of his jumper as he looked down at her. 

“I just want you,” she purred, batting her lashes all innocent like and it did him in. He grabbed her face, crashing his lips to hers with such ferocity that she squeaked and grabbed him to find purchase. 

He felt like he couldn't get close enough as his hands wandered, one splaying over her back and pressing her body flush with his. The other hand slipped over her curves, loving how the silky dress aided him in his exploration. Her body was fucking something else, he couldn’t get enough of her delicious curves and her tiny waist. His wandering hand slipped up her hip, running up her ribs before they cupped her breast. He felt her nipple hardening, confirming his stray thought that she wasn't wearing a bra and he moaned as his thumb brushed over the hardened peak through the fabric. 

She mewled into the kiss, such a cock hardening noise that he growled, grabbing her thighs and hoisting her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist and his hands settled on her arse as she giggled into the kiss. He moved into the bedroom, setting her carefully on the bed as he regretfully separated from her. 

She watched with heavy lidded eyes as he knelt on the floor in front of her, unlacing her boots and tugging them off one at a time. She had a look on her face as if she wasn't used to being taken care of like this and he found himself wanting to do it more often. He wanted to take care of her, make her happy, make her content. Once the boots were off, he tugged her socks off, making her smile as he stuffed them in her boots so they wouldn't get lost. He watched her from his spot on the floor, hands smoothing up her silky soft legs and his eyes were glued to hers. When he got near the side of her knee, she jerked her legs with a giggle and he found himself smiling. 

“Ticklish, love?” he asked ruefully and she pouted playfully at him.

“Maybe,” she smiled and he placed a kiss at the spot, making her giggle again.

He stood up, pulling her to her feet before his hands grabbed the hem of her dress. He allowed his hands to slide up her curves, grabbing the dress up with it. His hands bunched into the fabric as it got to her waist and he pulled it up, revealing more and more of creamy alabaster skin to his hungry eyes. He pulled the satin over her head and dropped it on the floor, eyes glued to her. 

She stood there in nothing but a black pair of lacy french knickers and his cock was throbbing at the sight. He could see more of her ink now. She had what looked to be flowers poking out from her underwear on the left hip bone and some words along the inside of her left arm at the top. He couldn’t wait to get a closer look. She blinked up at him, a shy look on her face that the animal inside of him preened at. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful, love,” he murmured with a rough voice, thick from his desperate arousal. She flushed, a smile curling her lips and he kissed her again, slowly this time as he allowed his hands to wander her body, feeling her bare skin against his rough hands. He groped her thighs again, hoisting her up once more before moving over to the bed. He crawled onto it before depositing her on her back, head on the pillows with her hair fanned out like a halo around her head. He leaned down, grabbing her hands and putting them above her head, lacing his fingers with hers and being mindful of her sore arm that still had his bandana around it. His eyes trailed curiously to the words on her skin, seeing some kind of quote. 

‘Since I was born I started to decay. 

Now nothing ever-ever goes my way’. 

He wondered what it was from, maybe from a book or song lyrics, wondered if he’d get the chance to ask her one day when they weren’t too preoccupied. He nuzzled the side of her face, loving how her breathing picked up and she arched at him. He kissed her cheek, trailing kisses down her jaw.

“Safeword love,” he murmured. He wasn’t really planning on going too far with her today, his main focus was just to prove he could get her off. He hoped there would be many more times for him to explore all the wonderfully sinful things she wanted to get up to. 

“Um… uh…” she stuttered, breathing laboured as his kisses trailed to her neck and he smirked into her skin. “Donuts,” she replied, sounding confused and aroused all at the same time and it just made him chuckle against her neck. He nipped at her then, ripping a moan from her that hit him right in the dick.

“You like that, sweetheart?” he asked huskily and she nodded.

“Yes,” she whispered and he groaned before biting the delicate skin and sucking on it. She squirmed with a desperate moan and he loved how wanton she was being. He moved away, admiring his handiwork as a bruise was already forming on her pretty little neck. 

Giving her a wicked smirk, he moved off her and stood up, grabbing his jumper and practically ripping it over his head. She watched him with rapt interest in her eyes and it made him feel good. She didn't take her eyes off him as he undid his jeans and tugged them off, leaving himself in his boxers before he crawled back on the bed. He settled between her legs, allowing her to feel just what she did to him as his hard cock pressed up against her wanting cunt and she gasped, hands gripping his waist. 

Her reactions to him were intoxicating, made him feel like he was the most powerful man on the fucking planet. He’d never been one to drag this out, never knew it could feel so good. Just like how he’d never been interested in kissing before. It always felt far too intimate for his liking and yet now, he couldn't get enough of it.

“Ready to have your mind blown?” he asked with a sinful smirk and she flashed him an impish smile as her hands smoothed up his back, causing him to hum softly. 

“Still overconfident, then?” she smiled, looking all pretty for him as she blinked her long dark lashes at him. 

His smirk widened into something predatory as he moved away to kneel between her legs, hands trailing over her soft body as he went. He was settled between her parted thighs then and he toyed with the lacy fabric of her knickers, watching as she stared at him with wide eyes. He hooked his fingers into the fabric, slowly dragging them down her legs and finally getting a peak at the flowers. They were roses, three black ones and one yellow that stood out from all the rest. 

He manoeuvred her legs until he chucked the knickers on the floor carelessly, his large hands going to her knees to part her legs that were now trying to close in front of him. He pried them apart, knowing she was feeling somewhat bashful by the slight resistance he felt and by the blush that swept up her entire body. He let out a delighted groan at the sight of her glistening pussy once it was bared to him and he felt his mouth water. 

“Fuckin’ hell, love. That all for me?” he rasped, eyes finally leaving her soaked cunt to look at her. She had this awed look on her face and he hadn’t even touched her yet, but it made a fire ignite inside of him. She nodded and while part of him wanted to chide her to use her words again, he was far too desperate to touch her. 

Teasingly, he dragged his fingers through her soaked folds and she let out a startled gasp, body tensing up in anticipation. She was more than soaked, pretty little thing was more touch starved than him it seemed and he couldn't wait to end her torment for her. 

He slowly started circling her clit, eyes darting between where he was touching her and her face, watching her lips part with little moans and feeling how she writhed against his hand. She was a sight to behold like this, he didn't think he’d seen anything more beautiful and he felt honoured to be the one making her feel that way. 

He slid his fingers down, sinking one into her and his pleased moan got drowned out by the sinful noise she made, her back bowing a little. She was so tight, wet and warm around just one of his fingers, he started to worry he might not fucking fit in her. He eased a second finger inside, feeling her tighten at the intrusion and moan softly, her eye fluttering shut as her head angled back on the pillow. She was a picture of ecstasy and he felt like he’d barely touched her yet. 

He started fucking her with his fingers and he was helpless against the rapt attention she demanded of him in her pleasure. One of her hands bunched in the sheets under her, the other clutching his wrist in a death grip. He found a rhythm she liked, one that had her thighs trembling beside him as sweet little moans left her lips. 

Without moving his hand, he leaned over her, propping himself with a hand beside her head as he stared down at her. His thumb started rubbing against her clit as he pumped his fingers in and out of her and she let out a keening moan, eyes flying open.

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped. Her pupils were blown wide, he could barely see the blue anymore. “I-I…” her words trailed off into incoherent noises that bounced off the walls. He was pretty sure the whole apartment building would be able to fucking hear her and he wouldn’t be shocked if someone called the police on him, thinking he was committing a murder. He’d never had someone so responsive before and his entire body fed off it. It felt like a drug to him, hearing those noises he was causing, seeing her blissed out face. Her moans got higher in pitch and more frequent, her cunt fluttering around his fingers and telling him she was close.

“That’s it, Charlotte. Cum for me,” he purred, feeling like he needed it almost as much as she did. Those words seemed to snap something inside of her and she let out a hoarse cry, her back arching harshly as she shattered around him. He felt her tighten impossibly around his fingers as he eased her through it, her whole body seizing up before it relaxed and the look on her face was fucking delicious. Totally fucked out. He stilled his hand, not wanting to overstimulate her too much given he still had plans for her. 

He watched her lay there blissfully for a moment, eyes shut and a serene look on her face. She looked like an angel.

“You alright there, love?” he asked with a wry smirk and her eyes fluttered open. Her face was flushed but she gave him a radiant smile.

“I think I might be dead,” she replied with a grin and he snorted at her.

“Sorry about that,” he remarked and her grin widened.

“Don't be. At least I died happy,” she sighed dreamily. He slowly eased his fingers out of her, making her gasp a little. His eyes darted to his fingers, coated with her and he brought them to his mouth without a thought. He sucked them clean with a groan. Fuckin’ hell, she tasted good. He didn’t get to go down on someone often since he was the fuck ‘em and leave ‘em type, liked it dirty and quick to get it over with. But he had a desperate need to put his mouth on her cunt and it had been in his head since they'd been back at the bus stop and he promised to get three orgasms out of her. 

When he looked down at her, she was watching him with wide eyes. Her cheeks were dusted with pink but something flared in her eyes that made him smirk wickedly at her as he finished cleaning his fingers off. He leaned down, capturing her lips and forcing her to taste herself. She melted under him, small hands smoothing up his chest as she kissed him back. She was so warm and pliant under him like this and he loved it. He broke the kiss to kiss along her jaw and to her ear, his still clothed bulge rubbing against her pussy that was so soaked, his boxers were getting damp.

“One down, two more to go, yeah?” he asked devilishly, making her squirm as he started kissing down her neck and then her chest. She blinked at him, watching as he grabbed one of her breasts, latching around the nipple with no warning. She let out a loud moan, hand flying to his head, fingers digging into his hair. 

It had grown out a little since his last deployment but he lamented that it wasn't long enough for her to really grab. He thought he’d like it. He sucked on her nipple for a short moment before moving to give the other one the same treatment. Couldn't be playing favourites now, could he? When he had her a squirming mess again, he felt satisfied to continue his journey. He placed kisses down the delicate flesh of her stomach, moving lower and lower.

“Wait!” she called out, making him still instantly. He lifted his head from where he was, devastatingly close to where he wanted to be the most. He wouldn't continue if she wanted to stop though, no matter how gutted he’d be about it.

“What is it?” he asked carefully, running quickly through his head for something he could have done to make her uncomfortable.

“I just… no one’s ever… you know…” she stuttered, gesturing her head to him and what he was clearly on his way to do. He blinked dumbly at her for a moment, his eyes narrowing a little.

“Seriously? I’m startin’ to question your taste in men, love,” he tutted, shaking his head. He shouldn’t be suprised her arsehole ex didn’t go down on her, but he was shocked it hadn't happened even once, even someone else. Something primal surged in his chest at the idea of having this first with her.

“Got you in bed in under an hour, didn't I?” she asked cheekily and it startled a chuckle out of him. She was something else, this one. 

“You're a cheeky bitch, you know that?” he asked, raising a brow at her with a fond smile on his face. Can't say he'd ever had an exchange like this during sex before. She gave him a wide grin that made his heart beat all funny in his chest.

“You like it though,” she countered and he shrugged, because it wasn't a lie. 

“You want me to stop?” he asked her, getting serious for a moment. She nibbled her lower lip and shyly shook her head.

“No, but… do you even want to? You won't hate it?” she asked him, a small frown marring her features. 

“Why would I hate it?” he asked in confusion, not sure what had given her that impression.

“Well… Ethan always said-” she started but he cut her off swiftly.

“Don’t say his fuckin’ name, not here,” he growled and her eyes widened, mouth snapping shut. He hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, so fucking possessive like that, but the idea of her uttering that arsehole’s name in his fucking bed made his blood turn to lava in his veins. Shouldn’t have been fucking shocked that the tosser probably told her he didn’t like going down on a woman, probably didn’t like the taste or some other stupid shit. He wanted to punch him. 

“I’m sorry, that was bad etiquette,” she huffed, covering her face with her hands but not before he saw her red cheeks from the embarrassment. “I just… I’ve never had to do this before, I’ve only ever been with one person. I’m ruining it,” she lamented, her voice slightly muffled from her hands. 

Something tugged in his chest at her words and he moved over her again, one hand propped against her head as the other gently pried her hands away from her face. She wouldn’t look him in the eye and it made him frown. 

“You’re not ruinin’ it, love. I wanna do this, I’ll enjoy it,” he tried to reassure her. She finally looked at him, eyes darting over his face worriedly.

“Are you sure? I don't wanna be a bother,” she frowned and the tugging in his chest got worse. That absolute fucker, Simon was gonna cave his face in if he ever saw him. Making her feel like some kind of burden to take care of. Taking what he wanted from her and leaving her high and dry. Making her feel like her needs weren’t important. 

“Just let me take care of you, sweetheart,” he implored, leaning down and rubbing the tip of his nose against hers affectionately. Her breathing hitched a little, hands splaying on his chest again as she closed her eyes. She seemed to like the little affectionate touch from him and he stored that away for later. She finally nodded and he smiled, happy he’d eased her worries. She had no use for them here, not with him. 

He moved back down her body, settling on his stomach between her parted thighs and he licked his lower lip at the sight. Despite the hitch they’d had in his plans, she was still sopping wet and he smoothed his hands up her soft thighs. He could see her breathing ragged, her hands by her sides, clutching the sheets she lay on. 

He placed a kiss on her thigh, enjoying the soft noise she made when he did. He was overwhelmed by so much being with her like this. She smelt divine. Not just the slick he’d caused but the smell of her skin. He felt like he was getting drunk off her as he kissed and nipped his way up her thigh, sucking on one area to leave a mark behind. She gasped and her hand went back to his head, her body wriggling on the bed a little. He hummed at the sight of the blooming mark, feeling satisfied with it as he continued his trail upwards. 

When he finally got to her cunt, he wasted no time, his patience well and truly thin. He gave her a long lick from her entrance to her clit and she let out a keening moan. He lapped at her clit for a moment, loving how she squirmed against his face before he latched onto it. 

“Simon!” she cried out desperately and he moaned against her, suckling harder at the little bundle of nerves as her body bucked and bowed. How neglected had this poor little pussy been? He hooked his arms around her thighs to keep her in place, sucking on her like a man starved as she gasped and moaned loudly, without care. She started chanting his name like some fervent prayer and he felt himself get lightheaded from the sensation, never thinking his name had sounded so fucking good. 

It didn’t take long to bring her to her second orgasm and he almost came himself at the noise she made, could hardly stop himself from rutting against the fucking bed to find some friction. He moved away from her, licking his lips greedily before kneeling back up to look at her. She had that blissed out look on her face again and a smug smirk tugged at his lips at the sight. 

“Ready for three?” he asked mischievously and she cracked her eyes open, blinking at him slowly. 

“I think you might have fucked the bones out of me. I’m not sure I can move,” she whined playfully and he chuckled. 

“You're doin’ wonders for my ego, sweetheart,” he grinned and she laughed lightly, looking at him with warm eyes. He moved to pull his boxers off then, shuffling himself out of them and tossing them somewhere. Her eyes drifted down to his painfully hard cock and they widened, darting back to his face.

“Will that even fit?” she asked incredulously and another chuckle rumbled in his chest. She really was doing wonders for his fucking ego. He moved to grab a condom out of the bedside drawer, tearing the wrapper open.

“Guess we’re about to find out,” he drawled, an impish smile on his face as he rolled the condom on and moved back to hover over her, propped up with one arm. 

His other hand grasped his throbbing cock and the excitement that ran through him was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He rubbed the tip around her soaked entrance, gathering her slick, and he moaned softly. She already felt so fucking good and he wasn’t even inside of her yet. He idly wondered how she’d feel without the barrier of a condom. 

Her breathing was heavy, lips parted with desire shining through her blue hues at him. He locked eyes with her as he slowly started to push in and she gasped, hands digging into his shoulders as he let out a noise suspiciously like a whine. Fuck him sideways, she was so fucking tight. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought she was a fucking virgin. It was taking all of his self restraint not to just shove his cock into her until he was in all the way and he resorted to pulling out before dipping back in, pushing himself ever so slightly further to ease her open to him. She didn't look like she was in pain so he kept at it, pushing in a little further after pulling out each time. On the last one, they both let out moans as he finally sheathed himself in all the way.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he hissed, jaw lax and eyes shut as he tried to calm himself before he blew his load like a fucking teenager. He kissed her, needing to stay still for a moment and gather himself. The hand not propping him up grasped her jaw as his tongue tangled with hers slowly, tasting every inch of her. She moaned into the kiss, arms winding around his neck and he didn't think he’d ever felt so weightless before. 

He hadn't dared move for fear of not being able to control himself but he was caught off guard when she arched up at him, making him gasp against her lips. He broke the kiss, opening his eyes to look at her. She was flushed but her eyes had that cheeky glint to them he’d seen at the bus stop and he knew she’d done it on purpose. He started moving then, slowly at first as he allowed them both to adjust to the sensation.

“Feel so good, love,” he purred, resting his forehead on hers as she moaned, pushing back against him. He remembered her saying she liked guys being vocal in bed so he was sure not to hide any of the noises she was ripping from him as he started fucking into her a little faster, watching how her face lit up at each and every one. 

“Such a good girl for me, sweetheart. Takin’ my cock so well,” he moaned and she whined, hooking a leg up and over his hip and he almost shot his load at the angle change.

“Simon… Simon, please,” she begged helplessly, sounding like she wasn’t even sure what she was begging him for, but fuck if it didn’t turn him on more.

“Don’t worry, love, I got you,” he replied, moving a hand to slide under her lower back, just above her arse. He used it to tilt her pelvis just a little but the guttural moan he got from her told him it was enough. He was hitting that spot inside of her and the angle change had his pubic bone rubbing on her clit. She looked like she saw stars for a moment and he couldn't tear his eyes away from her, watching as she snapped like a rubber band by his hand. She was moaning and gasping, body writhing as she tightened like a vice around his cock and he couldn't hold himself back even if he wanted to at this point.

“Good girl, such a good girl,” he rambled through his lust filled haze, rutting into her harder and faster as he chased his own release. Didn't take him long to find it. He came with a deep moan, a wave of pure euphoria starting at his dick and spreading throughout his entire body, even the tips of this fucking toes. 

He’d never felt such a release before and he could barely catch his breath. He cupped her cheek, kissing her lazily as they both came down from their highs. He enjoyed the closeness, enjoyed the softness of the moment as he felt himself come back to earth. He didn't want to crush her, so reluctantly, he pulled out with a hiss, tying off the condom before tossing it in the bin near his bed and collapsing next to her. 

“Told you I’d get three outta you,” he smirked breathlessly and she snorted.

“I’m impressed and very, very satisfied,” she murmured, sounding half asleep. He glanced over at her, watching how she struggled to keep her eyes open.

“Glad to hear it,” he replied softly, rolling on his side, some subconscious need to be closer to her. She opened her eyes then, looking at him warily.

“Should I… Do you want me to leave?” she asked, sounding self conscious. He was reminded she wasn't used to this and to be honest, neither was he. He didn't bring girls back here for this very reason, because he’d want them to leave but didn't want to look like a right bastard. It was easier just to slip out of their place instead without them knowing. But looking at Charlotte, he didn't want her to leave and he found himself dumbstruck with the idea.

“No, you can stay…” he said quietly, “if you want,” he added quickly, suddenly concerned that maybe she’d asked if he wanted her to leave because she wanted to leave. She shook her head quickly though, putting his worries to rest.

“I’d like to stay,” she admitted shyly and he felt relief flood his system, a bright warmth kindling in his chest. 

He reached out, rolling her over to face him and she smiled, moving to snuggle up against his broad frame. She fit against him perfectly, face tucked under his head with her arms pressed against his chest. He slid one arm under the pillow under them so it wasn't in the way, his other slung over her waist, hand splayed on her back to keep her as close as possible. He’d never slept with someone before. When his usual partners fell asleep, he’d be wide awake, biding his time before he could rush out the door. He thought it would be more uncomfortable for him but it wasn't. It felt right. He allowed his body to relax with the feel of her soft and warm body in his arms, getting the best night sleep he’d ever fucking had.

[ohallthecrushes]

You're a storm in a teacup and I'm starting to like the chaos.

I feel like I'm the only one who actually write for Elias. xd Wish there were fanfics about him being a main character and not just a side villain to the story.

Without further ado!

Summary: Evelyn is a young-troubled woman who’s just escaped a highly guarded psych ward (twice, but this time causing havoc on her way out)

Now she’s running through the city, hiding from police. A not-so-accidental encounter with a man named Elias Voit will change her life forever. And she’ll change his. His seemingly selfless help is laced with danger, hidden agenda, manipulation, endless tension, and…love? Slow burning inteligent-idiots-in-love trope. But mind you, just because it’s a love story, doesn’t mean it ends well.

General warnings throughout the story: Manipulation, illegal activities, murder(s), Stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, explicit content, language… The whole pack. It’s Criminal minds after all.

In this episode: All work and no play make Elias a dull boy. But boredom and attraction is a dangerous mix.

For the past two days, Evelyn had been growing accustomed to the routine in the cabin. Elias needed her insights occasionally, and she had provided them the best she could. However when she wasn’t consulting with him, she spent most of her time alone in her room, lost in thought. She wasn't soaked in miserable thoughts though. With each passing hour, she began to reassess her situation. Here, she had her belongings, security, food, and a comfortable bed. And compared to the institution and the frantic days on the run, this wasn't so bad.

No, she wasn't truly free, but the deal she had made was temporary, so all she needed to do was to wait till Elias wouldn't need her help anymore, hopefully soon. And even if he decided to change the conditions of the deal, she believed that she could eventually turn the tables in her favor. She had faced worse situations and survived; this was just another challenge.

The only other thing she had to deal with was growing boredom. With nothing else to do, she rummaged through her unpacked belongings like in a treasure chest, until her fingers brushed against something she hadn't noticed before – her old iPad. Music! Her lifeline, her solace, her personal therapist! And a great killer of time.

Bless Elias, for whatever reason, he had taken it from her apartment.

Smiling, she plugged in her headphones and turned on the device picking up a song. Soon music filled hear ears and her wary head with a positive energy she needed so much. She closed her eyes, letting the music transport her to a place where worries and fears faded away. Her body feeling the rhythm, started swaying slowly until her feet led her to the middle of the room.

Meanwhile with less rhythmical tempo, Elias paced the living room, feeling boredom settled over him.

Two days. Two damn days cooped up in that room. He'd expect her defiance to be a constant off-note in the air, a challenge for him, a source of excitement. Instead, silence. She only emerged for meals, quick showers, and when he called her to use her skills. It was almost… disappointing. What was the point of having her here if she acted like she wasn't?

Normally, he'd go out, find some entertainment, another victim to play with. But with Evelyn here, he didn't want to leave her entirely alone. Not yet. Not until he found a way to ensure she wouldn't run.

Stupid. She was nothing like he'd imagine. Where was the spark, the fight in her eyes? Was she planning something? Plotting an escape in her room? Or worse, plotting against him?

He wondered if perhaps he'd made her too comfortable. Maybe she adapted a little bit too quickly. He needed to lure her out, engage her, see what was inside that pretty head of hers. With a sigh, he headed towards her room to see what was she doing.

When he slowly opened the door, he was met with an unexpected sight. Evelyn was slowly dancing to music, her eyes closed, headphones on her head, body swaying to the rhythm... She looked so different, so relaxed and at ease.

He definitely had made her feel too comfortable.

He watched her, a slow grin spread across his face when he thought of something. He approached her quietly, taking advantage of her closed eyes. She didn't see him, didn't hear him. When he was close enough, he poked her shoulder. She jumped slightly, her eyes snapping open in surprise. She glared at him, clearly unamused, as she took her headphones off.

He smirked, trying to act innocent. "Didn't mean to startle you."

She narrowed her eyes at him, not fooled. "Sure you didn't." she replied.

He looked at her for a moment before he reached for her iPad. "What song are listening to?" he asked with curiosity.

She snatched it away before he could see.

Ah, there it was. The fight he'd craved.

"Easy tiger, just wanted to know what's made you so relax." he teased.

"None of your business," she retorted.

He pushed further. "Pop ballad?" he guessed, dragging out the words in a sing-song voice. "Heavy metal anthem for the misunderstood soul?" he paused before furrowing his brows in a mocking disbelief. "Gospel choir?"

She chuckled despite herself at his ridiculous predicament. She knew he was only teasing her, not really trying to guess. With a hesitation she stepped closer to him and slipped the headphones over his head.

"Here, that's the song." she murmured.

The music filled his ears - a slow alt-rock song. He didn't know the title, but he liked the alluring melody.

my hearts been empty, my thoughts depressed what I'm needing baby is your your sweet caress your soft caress

As he looked at her still standing very close due to the short cable of her headphones, their eyes met, their bodies invaded their personal space, creating something unexpectable; a moment of intimacy that caught them both off guard.

you, the only light in this room yours, the only blood I can taste

The words and the music set the atmosphere very quickly. For a moment, he didn't pull away, didn't break the eye contact, watching her reaction. His eyes lowered to her lips and her cheeks flushed a light pink as she guessed his thoughts. She quickly took a step back.

Self-concious, she thought to herself What the hell was that? Their situation was already messed up enough. This, this unwelcome attraction, was the last complication she needed.

She decided to break the tension and snatched the headphones back, her eyes avoiding his intense stare. "Well? uhm... Did you like it? The song I mean."

He blinked, the intensity in his gaze dimming slightly.

"The song... was nice, very mood setting." he admitted, his voice low.

The truth was, the unexpected intimacy had surprised him as well. He'd been trying to draw her out, to make her engage with him, and for a moment, something entirely else had happened. And the strange thing was... he wanted to explore that further, even though he knew better than anyone the dangers of letting emotions get in a way, especially with someone as unpredictable as Evelyn.

But boredom and attraction was a dangerous mix.

"In other circumstances I'd ask you for a dance..." he teased her to see her cheeks getting even more red. "But we have more important things to do."

So getting back to more... professional arrangement, he asked her to come with him to the living room to help him with another task. And she thanked in her thoughts that he mentioned work. This was something she could handle better than emotions and a sudden moment of unwanted attraction.

The little tasks he'd given her were getting easier to do, though she still was figuring out how to use his network to her advantage. She knew all to well that she had to prove herself to be useful otherwise their agreement, their deal would be broken. As much as she was tempted to mess things up, to give him false opinions so to put his network in danger, she couldn't. He was not easily fooled and she didn't have all the details to know how exactly his network worked. It was a great obstacle, but maybe she could still devise something?

"Is there anything more challenging than that?" She asked as she feigned interest. "Maybe a field trip? Or something more complicated I can work on alone?"

He looked at her reading her facial expression. He wasn't surprised by her boredom, but he also knew that she wasn't invested enough to actually look for something more ambitious.

"Bored, are we?" he saw right through her ploy, but pretended like he didn't. "There's definitely more challenging work." he admitted, leaning back on the sofa. "But trust is earned, not demanded. Field trips, as you so delicately phrased it, are a privilege, not a right."

The implication was clear, she hadn't earned that level of freedom yet. She bit her inner cheek in dissatisfaction.

"But..." he continued. "earn my trust first, impress me. Show me you can handle the basics flawlessly, that your mind is as sharp as I believe it to be. Then, and only then, can we discuss expanding your… horizons."

It was a carrot dangling just out of reach. A challenge of a different sort. Just not the one she wanted. "Alright." she conceded. "Challenge accepted."

When the task was done, he put away the laptop and stretched his shoulders. He glanced towards her, expecting her usual retreat to her room. But instead, she lingered, her eyes looking at tv. She hesitated for a moment. “You mentioned there’s a PlayStation here.” she says. "Mind if I play something?"

"Sure, why not?" he replied surprised and shrugged. "Be my guest."

He walked over to tv and reached for the controller, turning the console on. From his perspective, most of the games looked like childish things. But he was curious to see what she'd choose.

She scanned the list, until her finger pointed at a title adorned with a grotesque, pixelated monster. "This one." She said grinning.

His eyebrows shot up. "Horror survival, huh?"

He clicked play and handed her the controller. He settled back on the sofa watching her navigating through the game. He could see an obvious message in her selection. She was trying to show him her ability to handle fear and pressure. It was amusing though. Horror games had nothing to do with the real horror he had witnessed, but it was still impressive how easily she maneuvered through the quests and her reaction on what was happening on the screen. The amusement in her eyes as the game threw jump scares at her was unexpected. Where others might scream, she giggled with a thrill. The occasional curse word slipped through her lips when a particularly difficult enemy appeared, but it was clear she wasn't scared, she was… entertained.

As the game progressed, he found himself watching not just the screen, but her reactions. He couldn't deny there was something captivating about seeing her navigate the dark, digital world full of monsters and gore.

The final boss was defeated after a long battle and she leaned back with a triumphant grin on her face. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Elias watching her attentively. Mission was accomplished. She'd proven her point, but she wasn't done yet. Reloading the game to the last save point, right before the epic battle, she thrust the controller into his hand. "Your turn." she declared.

He stared at the controller with a question in his eyes. Did she seriously expect him to play a childish horror game? He was a man who directed real-world horrors, not silly digital nightmares.

"Scared you can't handle it?" she teased, her grin widening.

The word "scared" wasn't something he would feel. More like nah, but he couldn't say no to a little competitiveness.

"Please..." With a sigh that was half-amused, half-exasperated, he grasped the controller and leaned forward towards the screen.

She watched him with keen interest. He lacked the... finesse, but he compensated with sheer brute force, charging at the monster mercilessly. He had a different kind of strategy, but it was working nonetheless. His brow furrowed in concentration, his fingers flying across the controller buttons. Watching him playing also gave her a chance to admire his features. His jawline, his nose, his arms, his eyes...Damn, there was something in him that made her thoughts cruise towards dangerous concepts and she couldn't figure why.

Distracted she almost missed the ending of the battle when with a one final click, the creature crumpled, dissolving into a pool of blood.

She clapped her hands slowly. "Not so bad."

"Not so bad?!" he asked feigning being offended. "I've basically smashed him without giving him a chance to react."

She chuckled. "Alright, you’ve got skills, you killed the monster...almost as fast as I did."

He looked at her, slightly smiling. Her playful teasing and a video game might not be the kind of entertainment he had hoped for, but it was something that killed his boredom at least.

"Another round?" he asked giving the control pad back into her hand.

The next morning, Evelyn found herself alone in the kitchen. As she munched on a piece of toast, a movement on the floor caught her eye. When she looked down she saw a small black spider, no bigger than a pea.

"Well, hello there." she murmured, crouching down. She cupped her hand, gently coaxing the spider onto her palm. "Lost your way, little guy? Stuck inside this big cabin, just like me?"

Passing by, Elias heard her voice and curiously stepped into the kitchen to see who she was talking to. He leaned against the doorway. Evelyn, oblivious to his presence, continued her one-sided chat.

"Looks like we both need a little fresh air, wouldn't you agree?" she said, her voice gentle.

There was a moment of silence, then a soft chuckle escaped his lips. Talking to a spider? Somewhat charming in its own way.

She jumped, startled, the spider nearly tumbling from her hand. She turned to Elias.

"He seems a little lost..." she said glancing at the spider. "Do you mind if I let him out?"

"Front door's locked, of course." he said, his voice dry. "But if you're truly intent on releasing your eight-legged friend…" He reached into his pocket, pulling out a key.

Her eyes lit up. "Thank you." she exclaimed. "I wouldn't want to keep him prisoner, you know."

Her obvious suggestion made him roll his eyes. Kept thinking she was a prisoner of his? Even after the last night of gaming? He sighed, leaving it without a comment.

He walked to the front door. He unlocked it with a soft click and opened it wide, letting in the fresh morning air. He watched as she stepped outside, carefully lowering her hand to the ground. The spider scurried off into the grass.

As she straightened up her eyes lingered on the sun-dappled expanse of trees beyond the porch. She hadn't been outside since she had gotten here. It made her feel sad.

She turned around to Elias, and almost hesitantly, the words tumbled out of her mouth. "Can we go for a walk?" She knew he wouldn't let her venture out alone, but maybe he'd go with her?

He raised an eyebrow, studying her for a long moment. He wasn't naive. He tried to deduct if there was a hidden motive behind her request for fresh air. The chance that she'd try to run away again was high, but... There was also an opportunity for her to earn his trust. And he was curious to see what she'd choose.

"Alright, but behave yourself." he finally answered. "And don't even think about trying anything… foolish."

Her heart started to beat a little faster. "I promise." she said. "Just a walk. That's all."

With a slow nod, he conceded. "Alright. Let's go."

The crisp air, the scent of pine, the sunlight on her face – it was a sensory fulfillment for Evelyn. Nature, with its chaos and beauty, had always held a special place in her heart. She loved hiking, jogging in parks, walking in woods... It made her feel at peace, relaxed. But this time, this walk with Elias was laced with uncertainty and she couldn't stop feeling a nervous anticipation. She couldn't enjoy the walk that way. Not with his watchful presence like a shadow at her back. His distrust felt almost physical.

She turned her head and glanced at him, wondering. If he truly believed she was an immediate escape risk, wouldn't he have kept her locked inside? Maybe this walk was to test her trustworthiness? Or maybe, a thrill-seeker himself, he secretly counted on a little rebellion?

She stopped abruptly, causing him to stumble slightly in surprise. Turning, she tilted her head towards him.

"A little space, Elias?" she suggested. "I did promise not to disappear into the woods, after all." She paused before she took a risk, teasing "Although, a friendly jog might be tempting. Running and jogging are two entirely different things, right?"

He narrowed his eyes trying to see if she was joking or not. Jogging could easily be a prelude to a full-on escape attempt. Surely she didn't expect him to fall for that, did she?

"Yeah, sure... try and jog to freedom, we'll see how far can you get." he mocked.

"Probably farther then the last time." she murmured more to herself than to him. It wasn't an extend attempt to tease him further, but the words escaped her mouth before she stopped herself.

"I was joking." she quickly added unsure of his reaction.

He smirked. "Fine. A little space. But remember." he continued "don't push your luck too far. The woods may be vast, but my patience isn't."

She glanced back at him, as he stepped back, giving her more space, but his gaze was locked on her every move. No threat though. No anger. Was that… a challenge in his eyes?

Taking a deep breath, she started walking away, slowly at first, pushing the boundaries of the space he'd granted. She kept him within sight however, trying to see if he reacted in any way.

He felt amused watching her hesitant retreat. The confusion in her eyes, the temptation to run and the fear that stopped her from acting on her instincts, were enterteining.

Part of him, the pragmatic part, wanted her to behave. He required her cooperation. And a runaway Evelyn was a useless Evelyn.

But another part of him wouldn't mind the chase, the thrill of the hunt. If she was to disobey, to run, he could catch her once again. And he wouldn't deny enjoying it as a distraction from the usual monotony.

Yet he saw a shift in her. A defeated sigh escaped her lips. She wasn't going to run. Self-preservation won of course. Slowly, she began to walk back towards him.

"Done testing the boundaries?" he asked. There was no accusation in his tone, just a hint of curiosity.

She looked at him. "Not exactly." she replied. "But I won't run. I'm not stupid enough to shatter whatever tiny trust you have in me, that results in giving me this... freedom."

The word trust stayed with him. He studied her for a long moment, searching for any sign of deceit. But all he saw was a woman who, despite her defiance, was making a good reasonable choice.

"But you want to run or at least try just for the thrill of it." he simply stated. "if you weren't scared for your life, you'd hare off into the woods before I could blink twice."

She shrugged. "Maybe..." she felt irritated how easily he could read her. "But it doesn't matter, cause you wouldn't let me even think about it, am I right?"

"Maybe...." he pondered. "Or maybe I would."

His words surprised her. She stopped and turned to him. "You would...let me think about it?"

He glanced at her. "Depends, are you feeling restless?"

"Should I be?" she asked suspicious as she crossed her arms.

He shrugged. "Last evening we competed over a video game. You challenged me and it was... fun." he paused thinking about his next words. "Maybe in return I can offer you a similar activity to satisfy your primal urge to run without it being a constant itch for both of us."

She slightly tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

He smirked. Chaos could be an asset, if it was controlled chaos.

He couldn't deny a perverse pleasure in this constant push and pull with her, so maybe there could be a way to satisfy both their desires.

He outlined the rules of this little game he'd just created. She would have a head start, a chance to run back to the cabin. If she reached the safety of the porch before he caught her, he would grant her… a temporary reprieve. More freedom of her choosing.

But there was a catch. The run had to be to the cabin, and nowhere else. Stray from the designated path, and the game was over. He would catch her, eventually, but the consequences of breaking the rules wouldn't be pleasant.

"Think of it as running on a leash." he finished.

She furrowed her brows. She understood the thrill of the chase, the adrenaline rush... Yes, it would help her release the restless energy and even perhaps create a temporary satisfying illusion of running away from him. And if she won, she'd have a chance for more freedom. But she saw that this game was more of a twisted form of amusement designed solely for his entertainment, then anything of a real value for her.

"A leash?" she spat. "I'm not a dog, Elias."

He sighed. Why did she always have to niggle over everything he said? Couldn't she just accept the damn game, play by his rules for once?

"Look." he sighed, his voice laced with a hint of frustration, "call it what you want. But the offer stands. Reach the cabin first, and you get a little… freedom. More walks, less tasks, whatever. Disobey the rules, and well…" he trailed off, letting the unspoken threat get to her.

"And if you catch me before I make it?" she asked.

"There'll be no rewards for you. And as for me, well..." he moved his head slightly to sides in a playful manner. "Let's say I'll get to decide what to do with your free time for one day."

She glanced away, thinking. The bait was tempting, even if it was just that, a bait.

He waited for her answer. She'd showed him how competitive she could be, so there was a good chance that she wouldn't decline his offer.

"So..." he finally said. "are you in?"

[swan2swan]

So let me describe my favorite part of Madame Web: my taxi hypothesis.

You see, this is what I think happened: one of the writers--or multiple writers--and possibly some crew had a plan. They wanted to throw in the most obvious plot hole to see if someone would fix it. They wanted to know if someone at any point in the supervision would call out a completely ludicrous and unbelievable element of the story...and when no one did, they kept pushing it further, just to see how much they could get away with.

Specifically: the getaway taxi.

Yes, the Getaway Taxi. At one point, Cass takes the kids and piles them into a taxi cab to escape from a train station swarming with cops, in the middle of the day in New York City.

No one tries to stop them.

They don't Immediately Leave the City, they're just driving down the street. There's no driver to be seen. No police try to stop them.

An alert is put out, which they listen to in the taxi cab, of a woman who kidnapped three teenagers. At no point is it mentioned that they may have stolen a taxi that went missing near a train station. At no point is a missing taxi mentioned.

So...you see how this is a problem. Obviously someone's going to report that Taxi 28X5 has been stolen. Check every taxi, radio that taxi, find it just like they did in Godzilla 1998, because it's got a number on top and it's painted bright yellow.

No.

Nobody does that.

But wait!

Then, Cass takes the license plates off! Which would help to hide the vehicle...if it was any other car. But she leaves the sign on top. The numbers are still there, she just turned it into a car driving around NYC without license plates.

AND THEN...

SHE CRASHES THE TAXI INTO A DINER TO TAKE OUT THE BAD GUY.

AND THEN DRIVES OFF!

Aaaaand:

THERE'S A HOLE ON THE HOOD ABOVE THE REMOVED PLATES UNDER THE NUMBER ON THE YELLOW TAXI

THERE'S A HOLE ON THE HOOD ABOVE THE REMOVED PLATES UNDER THE NUMBER ON THE YELLOW TAXI.

THERE'S A HOLE.

THERE'S A HOLE.

THERE'S A HOLE ON THE HOOD ABOVE THE REMOVED PLATES UNDER THE NUMBER ON THE YELLOW TAXI.

Now, she skips town here, so it's kind of okay that she's taking a taxi to a hotel out in the middle of nowhere...but then she goes back with the taxi, then goes to the AIRPORT to go to PERU, which means she's finally ditched the damaged, plateless, numbered, yellow stolen taxi....until she comes back and takes the taxi right back to Queens!!!!!!!

It's incredible!

There's no way this should have ever worked! I have never seen a worse and more questionable and impossible feat!

But it happens! It's what they did! This is an actual thread in the movie!!!!

You don't know how hard I was cheering when it kept getting worse, you have to see this movie.

[shnargo]

(un)lucky? | pigeonholed (pt.1)

pairings: ethan winters x cadou-ified!reader (more on that later lol) warnings: mild descriptions of violence & gore (it is RE8 after all) word count: 759 a/n: so i'm in the process of writing this and frankly have no idea how long this might end up because i decided to begin it on a whim. i have a general idea of following the canon plotline for this series, but i'm open to suggestions and ideas to add :)

-

Its skull all but burst when he unloaded his last bullet into the lycan's head, splattering rotted brain bits and blackened blood all over his hoodie and tan jacket. Disgust sounded in his throat as he wiped as much of it off as he could. You’d think the horror show that was Dulvey, Louisiana was enough trauma for a lifetime, several lifetimes frankly, but the universe had other plans it seemed. So here he was, knee deep in snow, rubble, and miscellaneous gore in the middle of a forest somewhere in Eastern Europe. A shuffling noise sounded around the corner, and he tried not to voice his disdain as he pulled out his knife. Maybe he could get the upper hand on this one if he could sneak up behind it—

A bird. No, not like the crows that cawed at him incessantly when he was walking through the trees, it was a pigeon that was wrapped up in netting, laying pitifully on the floor. It looked like any sky rat he’d seen in the cities, with a checkered pattern on its wings and its dilated eyes. Somehow it hadn’t caught any adverse attention despite its flapping around in its attempt to escape from its netted demise. While it could have been a trap, he honestly just felt bad for it. It frankly looked like it hadn’t the slightest clue of what was going around it, or really of anything at all. He sighed. 

“Hey little guy, need some help?” He knelt over the bird, and it paused in its escape attempt as if acknowledging his voice. However, it soon went wobbling around till it flopped onto its backside. Humor tugged at his lips at how out of place the poor thing was, and he reached down and gently grabbed the net to not startle it. “I’m gonna cut you free, buddy. Try to keep still.” It almost seemed to listen, pausing again, but maybe it recognized the danger of a knife as he went about cutting the bird free. As soon as he pulled the knife away once he was finished, the pigeon jostled about, basically kicking the net off before giving it as much of a stink eye as a bird could before tilting its head at him in classic fashion. “There you are. You’d better be more careful next time, huh?” It cooed back in response, before turning around and walking off… straight into the door of a nearby building. He stared at it, stunned, and he couldn’t keep from barking out a laugh as the bird fell to the side in a daze. 

“What did I just say, bud?” Other than a light nudge of his hand, he did little to help the little guy back up as it came to its senses before flying off. He noticed a little falter in its flight pattern though, some of its feathers were clipped. He had his doubts that the bird would survive, but really he could say the same for himself. He entered the building the bird stumbled into and to his relief, found a generous heap of bullets. Maybe he’d be just fine for a little while longer, and who knows? Maybe he’d come across that silly little pigeon again elsewhere too. 

You could feel the heat fluttering in your chest as your wings just barely managed to allow you to find purchase on a sturdy enough branch. He was an outsider. Mother Miranda always warned you against straying too far, but your curiosity couldn’t be contained. So naturally, she clipped your wings. Luckily (or unluckily?) that resulted in your unfortunate entanglement with that despicable netting, but led to you meeting him. Him. His hands were warm, radiating heat as he helped you to freedom. Strangers weren’t nice, they weren’t supposed to be! So why did he go out of his way to help you? He could have left you for dead, well, to lay in the snow for a few more hours at least. But he helped you. He looked at you with nothing but mirth and kindness in those mesmerizing eyes of his... He even called you a friend, his buddy! That’s why you directed him towards extra supplies in the house, playing dumb so he wouldn’t catch on— but also because you lost your footing after laying about for so long. The wind whistled, sending a cold chill through your feathers, but you allowed it to lead you off the tree and lend some guidance towards the castle. There was a family meeting today, you were certain, and maybe you could help him just a little bit more. 

[lambsouvlaki]

For the Hell of it - Real, Alive

Character: Jason Todd x civilian! Fem!oc

Rating and Warnings: G. Description of dissociation.

Word Count: 1,589

Summary: Jason struggles after a Joker breakout at Arkham, and turns to Andy for comfort.

Masterlist

He had intended to tell her the truth. He really had. 

Plans had been sketched and trashed, messaged drafted and deleted, and a purpose built hang out planned and cancelled. Keeping her in the dark was only getting harder. 

He knew she was suspicious. She’d be a fool not to be. The NDA he made up to excuse never talking about his work in ‘private security’ was doing a lot of heavy lifting. Some of the other lies he’d given her at the beginning didn’t hold up under long term scrutiny. And that wasn’t even touching his own screwups. 

He had told her about a few too many of his favourite restaurants and food trucks only to be treated like a stranger when he took her there. He had disappeared with a paper thin excuse in the middle of hanging out when KGBeast broke out of Blackgate in desperate need of an ass kicking. 

And then there was the day he had handed her the wrong gym bag, telling her to grab the books from it. She had pulled out a handgun. She put it back in without a word and they swapped bags silently. He hoped she didn’t notice the heavy modifications and thought it was just a regular concealed carry, nothing scandalous for the Alley. She had a troublingly good poker face. He really had no clue what she thought of all his bullshit. 

He was afraid. He was man enough to admit it. Andy meant too much to him to lose her over his lies, if she took it poorly he didn’t know what he’d do. 

Then she figured it out on her own and all his plans were for nothing. 

He was in full Red Hood gear despite it being early afternoon, speeding towards her apartment to talk about it. Dread and relief coiled in him in unequal parts. He didn’t have to pretend anymore, if he still had someone to pretend for. After all she had gone through, she had every right to never speak to him again.  

His earpiece buzzed with Oracle’s signature voice modulation. 

“The Joker is in the middle of an Arkham breakout. This is top priority, everyone, drop everything else.” 

He gripped his handlebars so hard his knuckles ached. He leaned into a sharp u-turn and sped away back the way he came. 

Every other concern was secondary. All the bats and birds converged as Batman gave terse order over the coms. Word got out and the news descended over the city, bringing a silent panic to every street. Jason hated it. In those moments it felt like Gotham gave up and admitted it was Joker’s city.

Not on his watch. 

Their plan worked with nary a hitch. Oracle had caught it so early they could, for once, act before the day’s dastardly scheme was executed. Whatever their differences, the family worked together seamlessly when they needed to. Only an hour after midnight the Joker was back in his cell and sulking like a diva denied her solo.

Nothing blew up. No hostages were taken. No backs were broken and no children were beaten to death in remote warehouses. They found out about the joker toxin bombs planted across the southside with enough time to spare and sent the cops the locations and disarmament instructions. 

“Not bad for an Arkham breakout,” Tim said, sitting on the medical bed in the batcave. Batman was wrapping his arm up. 

Jason glowered at the report he was writing. “Two trashmen died.” 

Tim’s eyes narrowed at nothing. “We always fall down at the human element. The best security in the world can’t stand up to someone turning it off. There wasn’t anything else we could have done today.”

Jason looked up. Dick looked at his feet. 

“We can always be more prepared,” Batman said, neutral. He looked fixedly at the sprained wrist in his hands.

Jason clenched his jaw. He stomped out before the words roaring in his chest had the chance to escape. Before someone gave him an excuse to throw a punch. 

There wasn’t anything we could have done. 

Didn’t denial taste nice when the price was someone else’s life? He got on his bike and sped away from a silent cave. 

He had found the two bodies discarded outside the prison. Just regular folk, paid to do a regular job. Wrong place, wrong time. 

They were acceptable losses. That was what Bruce decided when he kept the Joker alive. And now, it was what Jason decided when he did the same. He sold them out for the right to operate in Batman’s city. 

His own hypocrisy sickened him. 

Just as he made it back to his apartment his phone buzzed with a text. He expected something saccharine or smothering from Dick. But no–it was Andy.

‘Are you okay?’

Of course, she knew who he was now and what he would have been doing over the last twelve hours. She didn’t know just what this case meant to him. She didn’t know he wanted to break into that prison and put a bullet in that maniac’s head. That he hated himself for not doing it. 

‘No.’

‘Anything I can do?’ 

Of course not. There was no fixing it. 

He methodically cleaned all his weapons and armour, checked his gear and put it away. He went through his post-patrol rituals and tried to decompress. His hands were shaky throughout. Except for when he held his reassembled pistol. Then it was dead still. 

What did he come back to life for, if not this? What was he even doing here?

The sight of his comfortable bed sickened him. The fancy apartment too. What right did he have to it when there were people in his city, defenceless. Unmourned. Unavenged. Was this his justice? 

Laughter roared and giggled and simpered in the back of his mind. 

It was going to be a bad night. 

Despairing, an idea jumped at him. He flipped his phone the right way up on the table and typed.

‘Can I borrow your dog?’

‘Of course’

He grabbed a jacket and headed back out. The city was quieter now. It felt watchful and suspicious. These things didn’t usually go so well and nobody wanted to risk celebrating too early. 

Andy opened the door to him almost immediately. She stepped aside and he came in without thought. Marlow was happy to see him and rubbed against his side. 

Andy was in an overlarge flannel button up pyjama top and soft cotton tights. Of course, it was the middle of the night. He remembered too late that she had an early class tomorrow. He was a terrible friend. 

“Sorry for waking you.”

She shook her head. “You didn’t. I messaged you.” 

They stood an awkward distance apart in her kitchen. He felt unmoored now, his anger and self recriminations strong but mixed up in the morass of his chest. She looked like she was going to ask, and he dreaded it. She opened and closed her mouth. 

“Are you… Can I-?” She opened her arms tentatively.

He nodded. She wrapped her arms around him. He engulfed her in turn. He didn’t deserve it but she offered, he told himself. She knew who he was now, what he did, what he hadn’t done. She still offered. He clutched her against himself. 

Her breath brushed over his collarbone. She was warm and solid, real and alive. So was he. He was alive. He was real, he was here, and he was alive. 

“You are,” she whispered. “You’re in my apartment and you’re alive. I’m so happy you’re alive, Jason.” 

His eyes itched. He hadn’t meant to say any of that out loud. 

“You barely know me,” he rasped. 

She shrugged in his arms. “Still.” 

He sucked in a desperate breath. Had anybody been glad he came back? He detangled himself from her before it could be too much. She turned away and busied herself with the kettle, obviously giving him some privacy. He looked up and listed in his head physical sensations and objects he could see. 

There was a glowing red digital clock on the microwave. 

He walked out to the living room. The dog came with him, glued to his side. Andy reappeared and pushed a steaming cup of herbal tea into his hand. The smell was rich with licorice. It brought him back to himself a little bit. 

She smiled softly up at him. No fear or suspicion he could find in her eyes. 

“You remember where the blankets are, right?”

He nodded, which was about as much as he was capable of at present. 

“I’m going back to bed then. Give a shout if you need anything.”

“You are far too trusting,” he said, because he felt someone should. She had to have some idea of how dangerous he was. She had been hurt before, how could she just let him back in like this?

She gave him a long look. “No, I’m not.” And she walked away. “Good night, Jason.”

“...’night.”

The bedroom door shut, taking the light with it. He sat down on the old couch. Aches he had been too stressed to notice became suddenly unmissable. Oh, he was tired. 

He kicked his boots off and lay down. A very large dog climbed up and curled up on top of his feet. 

“You know your mom doesn’t let you sleep on the couch,” he sighed. 

“Wruff.” 

He almost managed a smile. 

“Fine, but I’m kicking you off when I stop feeling my legs.” 

He leaned his head back on the hard armrest and slowly drifted off to sleep. 

Next>>

[jiliansky-blog]

Wake me up. Chapter 9. I will try to save

Pairing: Morpheus x FemaleReader

Rating: PG

Words: 1290

That night, you decided to stay in Rivendell. You didn’t give up the plans to visit all the elves cities. But you also decided not to return to some of the worlds. Such as Narnia and the Underworld. Probably you won’t return to Henry. You did everything you could for him.

You watched dwarves go to sleep and prepared for sleep too. When the door opened, you saw Morpheus.

“What about knocking at the door?” you asked.

“I thought you weren’t sleeping," he said.

“That’s not the case," you said. “Well, not only that. That is my private room. You should knock! What if I was undressed?”

“Are you shy?” he smirked.

What a bastard! He made you blush.

"Perhaps," you said. “Why did you come anyway?”

"Other rooms are occupied," he said. “I suppose you didn’t plan me to stay here”.

“Yes, I thought you were ready to return home”, I admitted. “So do you want to stay with me in my room?”

“Well, all the dwarfs and elves looked at me strangely," he said. “So I'm done wondering about it and went to you”.

"Oh," you blushed again. It was something you didn’t expect.

“I can return home," he said. “I don’t need to sleep or rest”.

“No, you can stay." You surprised even yourself. Perhaps you should let him go. But you didn’t want to stay alone. “The bad is big enough for both of us”.

You laid on the bed in your dress and looked at him. The elfish look suits him well.

“I think you will be glad to hear that I won’t return to some of the worlds," you said, breaking the silence. “I don’t see the point in visiting them anymore”.

“So how many are you going to visit then?” he asked, lying next to me carefully.

“I want to finish in Middle Earth for sure," you said.

“And that’s all?” he said, looking at me.

“I need to say goodbye to Loki too," you replied.

“He is not real," Morpheus said.

“Let me paraphrase it". You groaned and smiled. “I want to say goodbye to some of my dreams and hopes”.

“Very well”, he smirked. “You need to rest. Sometimes you, humans, need rest even in your own dreams”.

You smiled, feeling like sleep had won over you again.

Morpheus

She curled next to me and even snuggled with me. I can feel her warmth and breathing. I could tell her what happened to her, but perhaps it would break her. Furthermore, I somehow don’t want it to be like this. The Dreaming is for people who want to find home and refuge. I can’t take it off her. She needs to discover everything herself. I could create a room here for myself, but I felt that if I left her alone, something would happen, or she would escape again. And if she can sleep so peacefully next to me, then she will trust me. I feel

some kind of tenderness. It was the feeling that I forgot. I didn’t know that I was capable of feeling it.

Besides these adventures help me to forget about my own thoughts and problems. Perhaps, I do need such a vocation as Matthew told.

You didn’t know that you can see dream inside a dream. But you woke up in different place. Well, you appeared in another place. You found yourself in a big old mansion. You didn’t remember this place. Furthermore, you walked slowly through the corridors, and in one room, you heard people laughing. You opened the door and saw they were dressed like in previous culture. In the beginning of the previous century. They didn’t see you. You continued your way and found another door that led to the basement. And there, in a glass orb you found Morpheus. He was under the lights, on display without the clothes. So pale, so thin, so fragile. It hurts to see him like this. And then suddenly, he looked at you.

“What are you doing here?” he asked angrily.

He startled you, and you woke up. And I saw that he was looking at you in your room. Hurt and betrayal shining in his eyes.

“How?” he asked angrily. “How and why did you do this? You have no right intruding my dreams and memories”.

“I’m sorry," you whispered. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know where I was until I saw you”.

“That’s enough!” His voice was sharp, like a knife.

And then he disappeared. And you felt like you had made the greatest mistake ever. Was it really happening to him? Did someone take him into this glass prison? He tried to say that something had happened to him. Perhaps you could see his nightmare because you were sleeping next to him. You weren’t sure he would forget it easily?

And you changed your plan. You left the city in the early morning and joined the party through goblin’s cave and into the Mirkwood.

Morpheus

How could she do it? How did she get into this nightmare of mine? Now she knows my weakness and might feel pity for me.

“My lord?” Lucienne came into the throne room. “Do you return?”

“Yes, I return," I said coldly.

“So did the girl wake up?” she asked.

“No”, I replied.

“Did something happen?” Lucienne asked softly. “You looked worried”.

“She is not a vortex; she is something else," I replied. “She can get into my dreams and change my appearance”.

 «What?” she asked, confused. "No one else shouldn’t know how to do this”.

“I know," I said angrily. “I don’t understand how that can be possible”.

“And what now?” Lucienne asked. “What is she trying to do?”

“She wants to find her memories," I sighed. “I could just tell her, but… I didn’t do this. This is her quest”.

“And you just leave her roaming your world?” she asked.

“She doesn’t need me," I said. “And…”

“You are ashamed that she knows about your imprisonment," she said. “Are you afraid that she can use it against you?”

“No, I don’t think she will do it," I said. “But I need time to think and to search more information about her case”.

So you helped him with goblins and got to the Mirkwood. But it doesn’t matter that you were an elf; you still got yourself imprisoned.

“How did the elf helping dwarves?” asked you Legolas. It wasn’t the same Legolas that meet you in Rivendell.

“I don’t have a grudge against them," you replied.

“You are not from our forest," he admitted.

“No”, you said. “I’m from Rivendell”.

“So lord Elrond decided to help dwarves in their silly quest?” he asked.

“Not officially," you replied. “I sneaked out”.

“And is there no one else?” he continued.

Of course, you won’t tell him about Bilbo and his invisibility.

“Yes, there is no one else," you said politely.

Fortunately, he decides to look you up in the room instead of the cell. When you were left alone, your thoughts returned to Morpheus. Do you see him again? It was almost unbelievable, but you missed him already. But he probably won’t help you anymore. Did he really think that you came into his dream on purpose?

No, you won’t be crying here alone. You need to finish your quest, even if you should do this alone. So it was still your world, and you could open the door. And that was when Bilbo unlocked everyone. So you could join them.

And you can save Kili better than Tauriel. So at least he goes to Erebor earlier than in the movies. And you followed them. But you weren’t sure if you could protect him in the end. You were endangered when the main goblin approached you, and you lost your bow.

@shadowqueen1318 @mypsychoticlove @justathirstyhoe​ @ladymoztaza @sapphireonline @deniixlovezelda

[practically-an-x-man]

What would your ocs do in Arcane? How well would they fit into the universe/stand out? Would they be from Piltover or Zaun? Somewhere else?

Ooooooh good question, thank you!! I added Indie and Prometheus to the usual lineup since I know you know them better than some of the others.

Rae: Zaun. She'd be a similar character to Vi I think, the same sort of scrappy type always getting into fights. Eventually she runs into some upscale-looking guy, who's quite literally fallen from Piltover into Zaun at the hands of his father, and she helps him put things back together.

Robin: Piltover. She'd be from family wealth that gradually trickled away, and now she and her siblings are all packed into the same house, trying to hold onto the home before it gets repossessed by the city. They work together to design sound-based and communications tech, hoping one of their inventions will make it big and generate the money to keep their house.

Madison: Born in Piltover, but having fled to Zaun after things spiraled out of hand. Since then, she's developed a sort of cloaking tech, allowing her to sneak around near-invisibly, and plans to use it to get revenge on the ones who chased her away from her old life.

Ophelia: Piltover, and would be a very similar character to Viktor with his tech. Her father's inventions have them sitting reasonably comfortably in Piltover, though they're not rich by any means, but after his death it falls to Ophelia to innovate on his ideas and complete what he started.

Gia: The middle-class outskirts of Piltover, where she retains her flower shop and does her best to keep herself afloat so she doesn't have to relocate to Zaun. She's convinced that if she had to move, her prosthetic leg would be scrapped for parts and she'd be left on the streets (whether or not that's true, it motivates her to stay strictly in Piltover)

Jasper: Is a professional sci-fi derbyist à la Alita: Battle Angel (idk if there's something like that in Arcane but we're gonna pretend there is), having been born in Zaun but using their career to drive them up into Piltover.

Kestrel: Flips between Piltover and Zaun, often seen flying atop a wing-shaped glider that from high above looks like a small, soaring falcon. Nobody's quite sure who they are, where they came from, or which city they really belong to, but they're occasionally seen consorting with an adventurer on his rare visits to the two cities.

Katherine: Born in the outskirts of Piltover but later sent to the central laboratories as a historical research intern, she's devoted to understanding the history between the two cities and what divides them. Perhaps in time her research will drive her to a successful, steady life, but for now she's tethered to the boots of tenured professors.

Quinn: Works as a thief and pickpocket down in Zaun, and has lived their her whole life. Once, she and her crew risked a venture up to Piltover for a more valuable gig, but she fell from one of the stacks and broke her back in the escape. After recovery, she kept working, and built hidden compartments into her hollow crutches to hide the best of her haul. (It's very similar to her actual story, lol)

Eris: Nobody knows quite what they are. A fighter enhanced by years of shimmer usage, an immigrant from a far-off land where war brings endless accolades, a high-tech cyborg with sophisticated and near-indestructible prosthetics... nobody really knows, and rumors fly. All anyone knows is that they're dangerous, they've been around for a very long time, and it's best not to get on their bad side.

Nikoletta: Born in the deepest underbelly of Zaun, she functions as a crime lord. Nobody on Piltover knows she exists, but everyone in Zaun is quick to learn and bend to her rules. She's the queen of the shadows, the queen of the criminals, and she only ever meets in darkness. Nobody's seen her face in years, she's only known as the commander of the shadows.

Jimmy: He's an information broker known as The Ghost (yes, pulling this idea from that ask I just answered for him about a sci-fi AU lol). Outfitted with plasma-charged tech that allows him to slip through walls, he knows every single thing that goes on in both cities. And he's hard to track down - some say he's got a place in some hidden corner of Piltover, with a gentleman who supplies him with his tech, but that's all just another rumor.

Indigo: Born in Zaun, but conscripted into mechanics for military weapons in Piltover almost as soon as she was old enough to legally work. She tends to keep to herself, despite her striking appearance, but... one day a Piltovian general walks in on her sabotaging one of the weapons, and things quickly spiral out of hand.

Prometheus: Little more than a legend, at this point. In Zaun, they're known as the guardian of sleep, a good-luck charm to let children sleep in peace. It's said that a hungry child will dream of food and wake with a full belly, under their watch, and problems seem to dissolve in sleep for those who deserve to have their burdens eased. In Piltover, however, they're known as more of a horror story: once a scientist, who dove too deep into their experiments with arcanite and somehow became a coalesced form of pure, sentient energy. Maybe it's all just a folk tale, maybe they never existed at all, but the stories infiltrate the minds of everyone in the two cities... in some form or another.

[separatist-apologist]

Neon In The Nighttime

Summary: It's the end of the word as we know it. A west coast baker and the drummer of a metal band team up in Boston, MA thinking they're one of the last few people left alive after a viral outbreak turns those infected into blood hungry monsters.

Their destination: Los Angeles, California- the last place Lucien's eldest brother was living while gearing up for a presidential run. Lucien is desperate to escape the memories of his past life and what he had to do when his wife, Jes, became infected. Elain wants to try and reclaim the fractured pieces of the life she remembers before everything went to hell.

Read on AO3

Before:

Something was blocking the tunnel. 

Tapping her fingers against the steering wheel of her car, Elain wondered how much longer she’d be trapped in the dark. The orange glow of the lights bounced off her tinted windows, casting long, looming shadows against the dark interior. She’d turned the radio off a good ten minutes before, frustrated with the upbeat pop music pouring through the speakers while she remained frozen in place growing more frustrated by the second.

She had no cell service in the tunnel that might have passed the time. No way to tell her father she was running late or to call a friend and complain. Just Elain and her thoughts—and lately, Elain had been trying to avoid those, too.

Everything was falling apart. Trapped in the dark, she supposed now was as good of a time as any to reflect on her many failings. Elain had mapped out her entire life when she’d been ten years old. Sure, she’d done it in glitter gel pen and maybe she’d had to adjust some things—she was never going to be princess of any country, and thank God for that—but for the most part, those loopy scrawled plans were tattooed on her brain.

Finish school.

Get married.

Have kids.

She’d finished school, she’d gotten a rather good job at a museum which had helped her finance her even better job at the bakery she owned. And she was supposed to be getting married, too. That was where the shiny paint on her shiny life started to peel away. Graysen wasn’t a bad man. Not really. Disinterested, sure. And married to his tech job, absolutely. He was also very obviously in love with his best friends girlfriend, though he would have denied it if she’d accused him of such.

Again. 

Her father was sick, had picked up some virus he couldn’t shake and Elain hadn’t complained at all when Feyre and Nesta had called, asking if she’d go check on him. 

He’s getting old, Nesta had said, her implications clear. Maybe he needed more supportive care now that mom was gone. Someone should arrange that. And though both Nesta and Feyre were far closer to their fathers Virginia Beach home up in New York City, it had been Elain, all the way from San Diego, who’d flown back to handle it.

She hadn’t even been mad like she might have been in the past. Elain needed to clear her head of Graysen and her impending marriage. Did she want to be married to a man that couldn’t remember her birthday but could drop everything to pick up Laura from the airport on a random Tuesday afternoon? And did she want to always be competing with someone so effortlessly beautiful? What happened when Laura and Tom broke up? Would Graysen throw their marriage away, kids and all, for a shot at his dream girl? She felt insane. Pressing her forehead to the steering wheel, Elain accidentally honked at the person in front of her, which led to a rolled down window and a middle finger pointed right at her.

She deserved that. Sighing, Elain fiddled with the radio, ignoring the static until finally there was music again. California Girls could blow her, actually. She didn’t change the song, though her mood only worsened. Uphead, someone laid on their horn, likely just as furious as she was becoming. 

There was traffic and then there was whatever this was. Someone going too fast, staring at their phone, and now they had to wait for a tow truck to make its way in. Elain missed nothing about this place. Three cars ahead, someone had opened their door and was yelling something at another driver. 

The song ended abruptly, sooner than she remembered. Only half paying attention, Elain didn’t catch the first part of the of the radio jockey’s joking words.

“...Chesapeake Bay Bridge is still closed due to a pile up. If you can, take another route, folks! It doesn’t look like it’s gonna clear anytime soon.”

Elain emitted a soft scream, shaking her steering wheel beneath her white knuckle grip. Of course there would be an accident, and while she felt for the people involved, she also hated them a little, too. Elain might have voiced this somehow, might have joined the people just leaving their cars had the strangest thing not have happened.

Someone was running. Weaving through traffic without a shirt and stained with a substance Elain couldn’t see well. The guy who’d left his own car a few up shouted something at that bare chested woman.

And in true, New England fashion, she screamed in return. High pitched and furious, garbled from whatever substance she’d likely ingested. Elain was surprised when the woman lunged for him, slamming him up against his car.

“Did she…” Elain watched, heart pounding as the strangers mouth latched to the angry mans neck. Shaking her head, the woman shook him around like a dog with a rabbit, ripping his throat out with her teeth. Too late, Elain realized it was blood staining her bare chest. 

“HEY!” The guy in front of her got out of his vehicle, brandishing a gun. “Lady! Get off him!”

Elain screamed when that gun was pointed, when the sound of a bullet echoed through those dark tunnel walls. He was close enough he’d aimed well, hitting her square in the chest, for all the good it did. She lunged again, teeth sinking against his forearm.

“BITCH!” he roared, shooting again. Elain couldn’t drag her eyes away from the way her head seemed to cave in around itself or how blood splattered in every direction, including her windshield. 

The man in front of her turned, wild-eyed and terrified, still holding the gun in one hand. His arm dripped blood to the asphalt below. 

“I…” Elain only shook her head through the window, wincing when more shouting and more bullets echoed from somewhere in the distance. What was happening? Dread prickled along the back of her neck, keeping Elain strapped beneath her seatbelt even as another blood soaked interloper raced through the parked cars in the tunnel. 

That person was shot down, too. More people had begun to flee their cars, turning back the way they’d came rather than wait to see what—or who—might step from the darkness. Elain hesitated. Leaving seemed foolish—she had miles before she was above ground again, and beyond that, this was a rental. But on the other…there were three dead bodies now lying between her car and her destination, and no possibility she was going to see her dad that day. 

And when the man with the bleeding arm pounded against her driver side window and said, “You and me, lady. Let's go!” Elain unbuckled herself, cut the ignition, and got out of her car. 

“You’re not a nurse by any chance?” he asked, eyeing her hopefully.

“Baker,” she said, not daring to look too close at the bite wound on his arm. She might be sick if she did. “What was that?”

“Fuck if I know,” he replied, wincing as he pressed at his skin. “There was nothing in those eyes, though. Just…she was like some kind of fucking zombie. Never heard of a drug that did that to people.”

Neither had Elain. “Should we leave our cars?”

“Look, it’s your funeral if you stay,” he said, looking over his shoulder. Fear laced his every word, and though this man looked like he could handle himself, something about the way he clutched that gun made him seem small somehow. “But I’m not sticking around to find out what that bitch was on, or if she brought more friends.”

His words were punctuated by the sound of loud, terrified screaming and more bullets from people like the man standing in front of her. How many people in the tunnel had brought a gun? And how many would use it before the day was over? 

“My name is Elain,” she told him, slamming her car door behind her. An exodus of people was happening as others, clearly shaken by the death happening so close to them. It was easy to fall into step with the others, to wind among the cars still hoping to get to their destination.

“George,” he replied, wincing again. “She fucking bit me good.”

“Let’s get you out of here,” Elain told him, glancing at her cell phone. No service still, which shouldn’t have surprised her. “We can call for 911 when we’re above ground.”

“You’ll tell them—”

“Yeah,” she agreed, catching the relief flood his face. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Always wondered what it would be like,” he confided. Orange gilded the guilt not lining his weathered face, casting him in a near demonic light in the dark. “Killing someone, I mean. Used to think it would be like the movies.”

She was going to be sick. Forcing herself to keep walking, Elain pressed her lips together.

“It’s not,” he confided, his voice cracking. “It’s nothing like the movies.”

A cruel part of her wanted to tell him that anyone with a brain could have guessed that. Of course there was a peculiar kind of horror to taking another life, deserved or otherwise. It wouldn’t have helped the man beside her, pallid and slick with sweat as he was. He looked as though he might fall to his knees and begin sobbing, and Elain didn’t think she was equipped to help him. 

They lapsed into an uneasy silence. No one spoke as they walked, eyes focused straight ahead. More people joined, leaving car doors open to walk with the crowd and when the sound of bullets echoed behind them, shoulders tensed and children wailed, but not one person said another word.

The man beside her had begun to shuffle by the time they’d reached the entrance. Elain was exhausted and wrung out, checking her phone every few seconds, desperate to get a text to her sisters.

Something is wrong in Virginia. Someone attacked a man, ripped out his throat. I’ll check on dad another day, planning to come home. Can one of you meet me at the airport?

Beside her, the man doubled over, grunting as he slammed to his knees. Elain hated how she hesitated, hated even more that part of her wanted to leave him there. She wasn’t the only one. The crowd parted around them like water against a rock, though she and a few others had halted, trying to decide if they’d drag him out or not.

“Are you okay?”

He looked up at her, the sunlight casting his pale face in stark relief. Only his eyes were illuminated, the rest hidden in the orangy darkness of the tunnel.The blue of his veins seemed to bulge while his eyes, once a lovely shade of green, seemed to be bleeding red. 

Elain took a step back while he slid that gun between them. The metal bounced off her flats, resting between her two legs.

“Kill me,” he whispered, eyes locked on her. “Do it.”

Elain shook her head back and forth, bile rising in her throat. The people who had stopped to help were now backing away from them both, their own fear so stark, so pungent she could taste it on her tongue. 

The stranger—George, his name was George—lunged for her, mouth open and Elain screamed. Elbows slammed violently to the asphalt, jangling every nerve in her body. Elain reached for the gun, pressing the barrel to his forehead as he came atop her. In the daylight, Elain could see how red his gums were, how stained his teeth had become, or maybe always had been. Like he’d spent a lifetime smoking or something was rotting him from the inside out.

He snapped his jaw shut, the tendons in his neck practically bulging.

“Please,” he growled, his voice hoarse as if he’d been screaming. “Please, before I—”

Whatever light existed, whatever soul people possessed, winked out like a light. If she hadn’t been sprawled out on the ground, she wouldn’t have seen it. Elain didn’t think the people in the semi-circle around them had caught it. But George—the man who’d killed already and come to regret it, vanished and left behind nothing but a shell. Blood tinged teeth snapped at her like a rabid dog desperate for nothing but a taste of her skin. 

She didn’t let herself think about it. Finger on the trigger, Elain squeezed, eyes closed tight. George fell to the ground, still twitching, eyes still wide open and staring. 

And he’d been right.

Killing was nothing like the movies.

Now: 

LUCIEN:

When the world went to shit, it had the decency to do it all at once. There was no soft whimper, no slow decline but merely a burning wildfire that spread hot through cities and killing indiscriminately. Lucien recalled those early reports of a virus and the warnings to isolate, to stay indoors and wear a mask whenever they needed to go out. And he remembered the endlessly opining of politicians, unconcerned with anything but reelection and their own bank accounts, getting on television to argue it was the end of America if they had to shut down for even a day.

How right they’d been, in the end. America as Lucien knew it was over.

A month after the first reports of what had happened in Virginia, the lights went out on the east coast and never came back on. He’d been touring with his band, The Exiles, at the time and had been desperate to get back to his wife. Lucien had driven until he couldn’t and walked the rest of the way—all the way to Boston, where Jes had been waiting.

Infected.

And Lucien would never forgive himself for what he’d had to do. Vacant, lifeless and yet still moving, still seeing—she’d tried to rip his throat out and Lucien had killed her. Had left her body bleeding in the kitchen of their shared apartment, bought with the money his label had given him when they’d sold their record. 

He hadn’t known if he could  touch her long enough to bury her and in the end, he’d simply left her behind. And for months afterwards, he’d camped out in the building across the street, alternating between wishing he had the guts to kill himself, crying and screaming and destroying the now empty walls he was trapped in, and devising a plan.

The last time he’d seen his elder brother had been in Los Angeles. A Senator of California gearing up for a third run and thinking of presidency, one day, Eris had urged Lucien to relocate to California.

It’s safer out here. 

Eris had been one of the few people in those early days arguing it was better to be safe, to distance socially rather than lose lives needlessly. And if Eris had survived the early days, Lucien knew he’d still be alive now. A year had passed since Lucien had come back, a year since he’d last looked at Jesminda’s empty brown eyes and pulled the trigger of the gun he’d stolen off a body in Georgia. 

He couldn’t keep going like this. Jes wasn’t coming back, and the life he’d once fought so desperately for wasn’t, either. This new world was something else, something new and terrible and still beating its putrid, stinking heart.

And fate, if such a thing existed, had decided to spare him. What good was it to sit in an apartment that had once belonged to someone, staring out a window missing the wife who had died while he’d been fucking around on tour? There was no saving Jes, and maybe no saving himself, either.

But he couldn’t kill himself, and he couldn’t spend another New England winter without heat. The streets had been empty for weeks by the time Lucien stepped into the muggy, summer weather. The scent of rotting sewage was overwhelming, gagging him the moment he was outdoors. Pulling the neck of his black shirt up over his nose, Lucien made his way down the sidewalk toward a parking garage. He had keys in his hand, stolen from the family apartment he’d been squatting in. 

He prayed for anything but a minivan, and in the end was rewarded with a black pick-up truck that had three quarters of a tank still. It wasn’t enough to get him to California, but it was enough to get him the fuck out of Boston.

He’d always liked camping. Maybe he’d get a tent, fuck off to the wilderness, and hike his way to California when he ran out of gas. The thought pulled Lucien from his self-loathing just long enough to convince him to stop at a large box store for supplies. He had no money, and needed none, either. The lights were off, the door barricaded, and the parking lot long abandoned. Lucien was used to it. 

Prying open the sliding glass doors, Lucien didn’t bother offering a greeting. He’d used to in the early days, back when people had taken to squatting in stores where there was an abundance of available food. Violent gang wars broke out over non-perishable items and anyone with sense moved on. There was no sense in losing your life over shelf-stable green beans, after all. 

Lucien exhaled, ignoring how the store smelled like mildew and how light didn’t penetrate through the filthy windows anymore. There had once been a deal on strawberries—two for five—back when you could walk in and get a plastic container on your way home from work. There was no produce left, either eaten or rotted away to nothing. Flies buzzed around his head, swatted as he continued down the aisles, ignoring food in favor of a rolled up sleeping bag and somehow, a rather nice tent untouched, and yet dusty, in the box. Lucien pulled it all apart just to be sure there were no missing pieces and when he found there wasn’t, he almost smiled.

Almost.

Because behind him, the sound of a hammer pulled. He hadn’t heard whoever was lurking until he felt the cold kiss of steel against his temple. Swallowing his fear and the urge to thank this person for putting him out of his misery, Lucien very slowly raised his hands. “No harm done.”

“Yet,” came a delicate female voice. “Turn around. Let me see your eyes.” Slowly, Lucien turned only to be confronted with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t her. She looked as if she should have died in those early days of chaos and the gun still pressed to his head seemed wildly out of place in her fair, slender hands. 

Brown eyes flecked with gold surveyed him, her full lips pressed in a thin line. Her golden brown hair was twisted off a, frankly, stunning face with a pretty pink ribbon. Tight, black leggings and an oversized Who's Your Laddy shirt told Lucien this woman had likely been living here a while, picking through whatever was left—which seemed to be the seasonal clothing, if nothing else.

It worked for her, though. 

Still crouched to the ground, Lucien waited for her assessment. “How do you feel?” she demanded, eyes sweeping over his form. 

“Besides the gun against my head?” he asked pointedly. She didn’t bother to look sorry, though she did pull it away. Lucien didn’t even blame her for it—this was how she’d survived, surely.

Shoot first, ask questions later. “I’m not sick.”

“I’ve heard that before,” she replied, her bottom lip wavering a little. He rose, drinking her in as he showed her his hands.

“Want to check me for scratches?” “If you’re lying, you have maybe an hour. Two if you’re lucky. I’m so tired of killing, just…just go,” she whispered, looking up at him through dark, thick lashes. 

“I’m not. I promise,” he added, unsure why it felt important he do so. “My name is Lucien.”

“Elain,” she replied, tucking the gun beneath her arm. Lucien was tempted to take it from her and didn’t want to risk a bullet between his eyes. 

Elain took a step back while Lucien gathered up his open tent box and the rolled up blue sleeping bag. There was a purple one just beside it, the last one on the shelf. He grabbed that, too, just for good measure. 

“Elain,” he repeated, wondering if she’d join him in California or he’d leave her here. A slithering sense of relief filled his empty chest at the thought of company—of someone to talk to after a year of raging silence. “Where are you from, Elain?”

That bottom lip quivered again. “San Diego…or Virginia Beach, technically. I was visiting my dad when…”

Lucien tried not to think of the horror. Ships of infected sailors had come in through naval ports, while travelers had tracked it through airports. Major naval bases had been hit just as hard as major cities, and Virginia Beach was still considered point zero for the outbreak. 

“Ah.” 

She fell into step beside him, trailing him toward the now empty registers where he could leave his equipment and grab some food, too. “How did you end up here?”

“I caught a ride with someone,” she admitted, her pretty eyes glassy in remembrance. Another friend she’d had to kill? “My sisters were in New York City.”

Lucien doubted they still were. One of the last images he’d ever seen was the chaos in the city—the infected running after screaming civilians, ripping people to the ground with their teeth. Eating them alive, feasting on the living. Lucien closed his eyes in a desperate attempt to banish the memory. He didn’t want to think about it, or what had happened to Jes while he’d been away. 

“I doubt anyone is still in that shit hole city. Even the rats have probably gone by now,” Lucien said with a shrug. Elain trotted after him, grabbing red plastic basket helpfully.

“Where are you going?” she asked him. 

“California. My brother was out there—I’m going to find him.”

“How do you know he’s still alive?”

Lucien sighed. “Eris is like one of those nuclear bomb proof roaches. There’s no way he’s dead. If anything, he’s probably the leader of some doomsday cult.”

“My sister Feyre was like that. Maybe they found each other.”

Lucien could only shrug. In a different world, a different life, he might have offered her a shred of hope or comfort. Now, though, all he had was frank honesty. Her sisters were probably dead, just like his brother, and only the fear of being alone kept them from admitting it to themselves.

“You want a ride?” he asked before he could think better of it. Elain reached toward a dusty shelf and slid every can of pinto beans into her arms before letting the cans tumble into the basket.

Lucien took it from her, certain it was miserably heavy.

“To your cult leader brother?” There was a hint of humor to her words that almost made him relax.

“Or to start our own,” he replied, offering her half a smile. “I’m not picky.”

“What are you, then?” she asked, peering up at him with curiosity. Her gun was still tucked beneath her armpit, a reminder that for all the sweetness oozing from her lithe form, this woman was a killer.

A survivor.

“Tired of talking to myself,” he finally admitted. What else was there to say? Lucien didn’t know what he was or even who he was anymore. A drummer in a band that no longer existed. The youngest son of a dynasty that could be traced further back as far as most European royalty. A husband who’d taken the life of the very woman he’d sworn to protect. 

Was he a survivor, too? He didn’t feel like it, but maybe he was. Maybe by virtue of standing before her, arm laden with beans and the gun she carefully set atop her cans, Lucien, too, was a survivor. 

He knew he’d be disappointed if she said no, though. 

Elain offered him a shy smile. “Alright, Lucien. But I get to lead the cult. None of this co-leader stuff.”

He grinned.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”