#*glances at big fish games* there are. uh. a lot of games for this series?

[hiddenobject-fanblog]

Got a collection of Phantasmat games recently when it was on sale on Steam. Man do I miss Hidden Object games!!

[inhuman-obey-me]

Payback's a Murder

Word Count: 2k Description: Mammon may be the Avatar of Greed and may constantly try to con his brothers, but others who try to do the same will find themselves at the wrong end of his murder. Part of the A Demon's Nature series. Finally got back to this, so here we go with Mammon's turn! Note: Mulciber is a demon mentioned in John Milton's Paradise Lost. He served under Mammon and was an architect. Can also be found on AO3 here. content warning: blood, body horror, torture via the sharp ends of birds

The Avatar of Greed often found himself in trouble, whether it be because he stole personal belongings to sell or tried to cheat someone out of cash or … well, there were a lot of ways. Call him reckless, but when he saw an opportunity to make some cold, hard Grimm, he wasn’t about to pass it up!

But if someone tried to cheat him out of something? That wouldn’t do. Few dared to try it if they knew just who they were dealing with, but that didn’t stop some from trying anyway. They always regretted it afterwards.

The real issue, however, was if someone tried to cheat his brothers out of something. After all, he was the only one allowed to rip them off (that was his justification, anyway). The moment he finds out someone else tried to play confidence demon with any of them, it was a one-way ticket to the Great Mammon’s Beatdown Extravaganza.

He was walking by Leviathan’s room earlier when he heard a loud crash, some swearing, and a slight rumble under his feet. After some door breaking, tackling, and forcing his hotheaded brother to not summon Lotan, he found out what had made him so upset. Apparently, there was some demon running around with elaborate schemes swindling others -- well, nerds -- out of their money. He went on to explain something that Mammon did not at all understand -- as was usual when he got into his otaku rambling. If his brother had not been so upset, Mammon would have commended the guy for knowing how to target and hit a jackpot.

After some additional pestering, Mammon managed to get a rough description of this third-rate demon and realized he had a pretty good idea of just who it was. It was someone far closer to him than he’d like to admit.

So now here he was, leaning against the bar at one of the Devildom’s many clubs, drink in hand as he monitors the floor. If he was right, he would see the other cozening demon somewhere here tonight, so now it was just a waiting game. As Lucifer had told him repeatedly, You have to show that you’re Number Two. He planned to make that very clear tonight.

He felt the pulse of the bass vibrating through his body as the DJ amped up their music, more and more demons flowing into the space as the prime clubbing hours arrived. A few who noticed Mammon acknowledged his presence, some whispering about how he seemed to look way more serious than normal. The Avatar of Greed, not partying the night away already? Strange.

His patience was just about to run out when he caught a glimpse of just the demon he was seeking out. Hair as orange as a flame, he wasn’t too hard to spot amongst the crowd of more muted succubi surrounding him. Mammon downed the rest of his drink in one go, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket as he made his way to his target.

“Mulciber. Already getting started, huh?”

“M-Mammon?!” He seemed startled to see the other, but cleared his throat as he regained his cool composure. “It’s good to see you, man! Why don’t you join us all for a drink?” The succubi around him giggled, one daring to lean towards Mammon in an attempt to latch onto his arm, but he quickly placed a hand up to stop her.

“No touchin’, sweetheart.” He shot her a look that made her immediately back away, a pout on her lips. “And that’s a nice offer, Mulcey, but I was hopin’ I could talk to ya real quick in private.”

Mulciber could tell that no was not an option in this conversation, given the serious look in the Avatar’s eyes. “Oh, uh, sure. Sorry ladies, I’ll be back soon. Gotta take care of business!” He gave them a wink as they continued on to the table for their party. Clearing his throat again, he turned back to his superior. “So, what’s shaking, boss?”

Mammon just gave him a smile before nodding his head towards a side door, motioning to accompany him there. The lesser demon complied, following him outside to a side alley. The night air was brisk, causing a shudder to run through Mulciber’s spine. At least, he hoped it was the weather that was making him feel like this …

“I heard ya got up to another scheme.” Mammon fiddled with a lighter, flipping the top off and on with his thumb and a jerk of his hand as he spoke. Click, click, click, click. “Wanna tell me about it?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, totally!” Mulciber nervously replied, wondering why Mammon seemed so interested. Did he want a cut of the check? Fishing for ideas for his own next get-rich-quick scheme? Or --

Oh.

Oh no.

He suddenly remembered that one of the victims of his scheming had been the very Avatar of Envy. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time, delighting in the fact that he was even able to rip off a Greater Demon. Meant his plan had to be pretty genius, right? But now … now he was starting to realize that he may have just made a big mistake.

“Hm? Ya haven’t said a word, Mulcey-boy.” Mammon turned to face him, tucking the lighter into his pocket. He took a step towards the other, who immediately took a step back -- only to be met with a hard brick wall. “Or didja have a moment of realization?”

“L-Listen, Mammon, I’m sorry! I didn’t know at the time, I swear!” Mulciber brought both his hands up, as if that would stop the other from approaching him.

“Oh? ‘Cuz your face says differently, buddy.” He bared his fangs, the usual gradient in his eyes now glowing a furious gold. There’s a malicious grin on his face as he takes a step back, and then he begins to … whistle?

Mulciber does not like where this is going. He’s heard that tune before and it makes his hairs stand on end. “Look, man, please, I’ll do whatever I have to do to make it up to you!” There’s already desperation in his voice, which almost makes Mammon laugh.

“Glad to hear it. Then ya won’t have a problem with what’s about to happen next, yeah?”

It starts in the distance, a noise that made it feel as if your eardrums were being pierced by a thousand shards of glass. It grows louder and louder, closer and closer. An omen.

Mulciber shrinks against the wall, his grey eyes wide in fear. He knows running is pointless -- the other demon would quickly catch him, and leave him even worse for wear as repercussion. “P-please, Mammon, sir, don’t do this … “

“Didn’t you just say ya’d do whatever ya have to do?” Mammon shakes his head, his wings stretching out wide as if to entrap the lesser demon where he stood. “And you really think suddenly pullin’ out the formalities is gonna get ya any mercy here?”

The flapping of numerous wings now filled the air, a large murder of crows circling in the dark sky above. Their bone-chilling caws and cries rain down upon them as the birds eagerly await their master’s command.

Mammon lunged forward and grasped the other’s jaw, his claws digging into flesh as he brought his face threateningly close. “Pretty ballsy of you to think messin’ with any of us was the right move.” He growled, a rumble in his throat. “Looks like someone needs remindin’ of his place.”

“I-I wasn’t thinkin’ at the time! C’mon, you know how that is, don’t you? I was just thinking of making some big bucks, I didn’t mean to go and step out of line--” Mulciber frantically rambled, trying to ignore the searing pain he was feeling from Mammon’s grip.

“I’m sure that was the case, Mulcey, sure!” If it wasn’t for his mocking smile, the Avatar would have nearly sounded genuine. “But that doesn’t mean you can escape the consequences, ya’know?” He let out a tsk, watching as blood dripped from where he had pierced the other’s skin.

He let go of Mulciber, taking a few steps back as he shook his hand as if to clean it of the ichor. There was no denying the glee he was feeling from this -- it had been a while since he decided to flex his abilities and powers on another. Looking up to the sky, he whistled out another tune, causing the crows to descend.

“He’s all yours.” He commands them in a language only they could understand, and in a flash the black-feathered birds rush in to attack. Their squawks mix with Mulciber’s shrieks as they begin to peck at him with their beaks and scratch him with their claws. Mammon fishes out the lighter from his pocket once more, grabbing a cigarette from the box he had on him with his other hand. Leaning against the opposing alley wall, he lights up and takes a slow drag, watching as the flurry of feathers pulverize his inferior.

The crows tear at Mulciber’s flesh, their sharp beaks riddling his body with small cavities and painting him with his own blood. He continues to cry and scream, though it’s obvious he’s losing energy by the second as they grow weaker in intensity, his body slumping towards the ground. Perhaps he had learned his lesson? Surely, he’s just waiting for it all to stop now, right?

Mammon takes a glance around, humming in delight as he catches sight of a discarded iron pipe. He drops the remains of his cigarette to the ground, stomping it out before retrieving his now makeshift weapon. It feels cool and light in his hand, and he gives it a small toss in the air before catching it again with a satisfied smile.

“Alright, alright. You all can leave him alone now.” Mammon commands his murder once more, followed by another whistle to let them know they could go back to doing whatever they were doing before now. One of them flew over to Mammon, perching on the metal rod in his hand, looking up at him with a puffed up chest in pride as blood stained its beak.

“Yes, who’s my good lil’ birdie?” Mammon cooed, scratching the crow under its chin. “Go get yerself cleaned up, okay?” It cawed in delight before flying off to join the rest, who were fading back into the dark night sky. The Avatar of Greed shook his head fondly before turning his attention back to the matter at hand.

Mulciber lay crumpled on the ground, though was making efforts to sit upright as he gasped for breath. His body hurt all over, as if every inch of him had been pierced with needles. He feebly looked up to meet Mammon’s gaze, a whimper leaving him as he noticed the rod in his hand.

“What? I couldn’t let my birds have all the fun, now could I?” Mammon grasped the rod firmly in both hands before swinging it down with a deafening crack as it hit the other, who let out another sharp cry of pain.

“Hm, perhaps just another for good measure.” Whack. Another wail.

“Okay, okay. One more.” Whack. Another splatter of blood.

Content at the shuddering and sniveling mass that was left, Mammon kneeled down to get close to Mulciber’s ear, his next words full of menace. “Ya really should have stuck to the building business. Keep that in mind in the future, ‘kay?”

Mammon stood up and let the iron rod clatter to the ground, its hollowness ringing into the night. He made his way back inside to order another drink, ignoring the whispers and stares from the others in the club. It was doubtful that Mulciber would make an appearance here after what had happened for a while.

He knocked on the bar counter, getting the attention of the bartender. “Give me a glass of your finest whiskey. Put it on Mulciber’s tab.”

[jabbagabba]

La La Land

Read Prologue, One

Warning ⚠️

Triggering subjects: disassociation, manipulation, mind control, gaslighting (READ AT OWN RISK)

Wandavision: Spoilers (up to episode 7, just to be safe) cheesy sitcom talk, the fifties, the ‘dinner table’ scene, The nickname ‘kiddo’

Oh, Kiddo

“Uh oh.” You didn’t need to check the recipe book to know that cookies weren’t suppose to make smoke invade the inside of the oven.

“Still better then the last batch.” Wanda said, a small cough falling from her mouth as you tipped the burnt treats into a small bin under the counter.

The sight of the now empty tray made you sigh sadly, the burnt pieces of dough was going to take decades to scrub off!

“I’m sorry about the tray.” You let it drop into the sink. “I promise, as soon as mom comes back, I’ll get you a new one.”

Wanda scoffed playfully, a point of her finger making the tray levitate in front of her. “Don’t be silly, kiddo!” You watched in awe as it turned back to its shiny silver. “I have an amazing cleaner.” You both giggle.

“Well I should at least do the dishes myself.” The sight of Wanda trying to argue made you hold your hand up in silent protest “No, no. You aren’t the only one who has hands.”

“You wash, I dry?” The perfect compromise.

The kitchen fell into peaceful silence except for the bubbly soap that filled the sink. It was the perfect start of a new day (maybe not for the oven) and you couldn’t help smile at the warmth that swelled through you.

“Busy hands make the heart grow fonder” Your mother’s words echoed inside of you as you finished the final dish.

The thought didn’t stay for long before the sound of a plate breaking made you jump, turning quickly as it hit the floor.

“My wife and her flying sources.” Vision quipped as the last of the shattered plate fell off his shoulder, dressed in a respectable suit and dress shoes.

“My husband and his indestructible head.” Wanda replied with a teasing smile. The perfect couple was a sight to behold as you grabbed the glass from the air above her and placed it back in the cuboard.

“Aren’t we a fine pair?” Vision gave his a wife a small kiss on the head and turned to you with a small smile. “Good morning, Kiddo.” You greeted him, drying your hands on the skirt of your dress. “I’m starting to think you came with the house.” Wanda chuckled.

“Mom will be back soon, I promise, the house will be teenage free before you know it.”

“Oh, don’t be silly!” He lets the newspaper in his hand slide across the countertop. “I’m only teasing.”

“What do you say to silver dollar pancakes, crispy hash browns, bacon, eggs, freshly squeezed orange juice, and black coffee?” Wanda’s words made your mouth water, it felt as though you hadn’t eaten in days and a full breakfast was just what you needed.

“I say. ‘Oh, I don’t eat food.’” He smiled.

“Well, that explains the empty refrigerator.” Her words confused you. There wasn’t even the carton of milk you were sure was there earl-

“Wanda?” Vision’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, she simply hummed in question.

“Is there something special about today?”

“Well, I know the apron is a bit much, dear, but I am doing my best to blend in.” You watch as she crosses the kitchen.

“No, no, there on the calander. Someone’s drawn a little heart right above today’s date.” He lets his chin rest on her head while you move closer to see. Sure enough, there it was.

“Oh, yes.” Wanda said with tense shoulders. “The heart.” She looked over at you for some guidance, the confused look she saw didn’t help calm her nerves. “Well, don’t tell me you have forgotten, Vis.” She turned in his arms with a look of accusation and hands laid on her hips.

“Forgotten?” He scoffed. “Oh, Wanda, I’m incapable of forgetfulness. I remember everything. That’s not an exaggeration. In fact, I’m incapable of exaggeration.”

“Well, then tell me what’s so important about today’s date.”

You had to stifle a laugh when you looked at him; mouth blown out like a fish and eyes wide, a stern look from Wanda made you cover it with a cough.

“What was the question again?” Vision turned quickly. “Oh, well. Perhaps, you’ve forgotten yourself.”

“Me? Heavens, no. I’ve been so looking forward to it.” You let Vision pass you, choosing to keep to yourself and take a sit at the table.

“As have I.” He said proudly with arms folded. “Today we are celebrating...”

Why were you so hungry?

“You bet we are...”

Why were you always, so hungry?

“It’s the first time we....have ever celebrated this occasion before.”

“It’s a.... special day!”

Something doesn’t feel right

“Perhaps an evening... of great significance...”

Can you feel her clawing?

“Kiddo?” Her voice makes you jump in your seat, letting out a small hiss from hitting your knee underneath the table. “You alright?”

“I...” Silly you, always dozing off. “I’m just peachy keen, Wanda!” A series of knocks on the door makes her pause and you’re quick to stand. “I’ll get it!”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that...” She trailed behind you, a polite smile on her face as you open the door.

You barley grab the large plant that’s shoved in your face, the woman breezing past you with her hand out.

“Hello. dear, I’m Agnes. Your neighbour to the right.” Wanda lets out a awkward laugh but takes her hand anyway. “My right, not yours.” She’s loud and very, very talkative. “Forgive me for not stopping by sooner to welcome you to the block. My mother in-law was in town, so I wasn’t.”

You pull the plant away from you with a huff. Wanda gives you an apologetic look, grabbing it from your hands, both of you watching as Agnes makes her way through.

“So, what’s your name? Where are you from, and most importantly, how’s your bridge game, hon?”

Very talkative indeed.

Wanda laughs as she crosses the room -leaving you to close the door - and sent Agnes a friendly smile.

“I’m Wanda.” She gestures to you over the woman’s shoulder. “And we call her ‘Kiddo’.”

“Easier that way.” You add as you smooth out your skirt once more, choosing to sit on the edge of the couch. Agnes turns to you with a smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry dear!” You wave her off with another friendly smile. “Wanda, Kiddo, lovely names for two lovely ladies.” You all share a small giggle.

“Golly.” Agnes’ eyes scan the room. “You settled in fast! Did you use a moving company?”

“I sure did.” You wanted nothing but to rip off that stupidly large bow off that equally obnoxious plant, but you didn’t want to be rude. “Those boxes don’t move themselves.” Agnes chuckled and you were itching to move it from the table Wanda placed it on.

“So what’s a single gal like you doing rattling around this big house? With a daughter no less.” You and Wanda were quick to explain.

“I’m not her daughter.” You move back as her dress skirt fills your vision, looking over at Wanda. “Just visiting.”

“I’m married.” She added with a gleeful shine in her eyes.

“Oh, I don’t see a ring.”

“Well, I assure you I’m married.” She covers her hand with the other. “To a man. A human one and tall.”

Agnes was a very suffocating presence; her dress bold and checker patterned, your polka dots looked rather bland compared to it and when she took a seat next to you - practically in your lap at one point of readjusting - you had never felt so small.

“As a matter of fact, he’ll be home later tonight for a special occasion. Just the two of us.”

“Oh, is it someone’s birthday?”

“Not a birthday.”

“Well today isn’t a holiday, is it?”

Were there any holidays in March? You - like most days - were left completely blank.

“No, it’s not a holiday...” Wanda’s hands fidget, you couldn’t help but join, opting to pick at a thread on your sleeve.

Today was.... hmm, what was today? You tried to remember if Vision or Wanda spoke of anything special, but nothing really stood out from the crowd.

“An anniversary then?”

“Ye... yes!” The relief on her face was almost comical. “Yes! It’s our anniversary!” Agnes couldn’t hide her excitement, grabbing your hand mid pull of the thread and held another one for Wanda to take.

“Oh, how marvellous.” She turned forward, putting both of your hands in her lap as Wanda joined on the couch. “How many years?”

“Well, it feels like we’ve always been together.”

“Lucky gal.” Agnes shook your hand with a smile. “Isn’t it just, having such a wonderful influence like that?” Wanda blushed. “The only way Ralph would remember our anniversary is if there was a beer named ‘June 2nd’. “ At least she was entertaining, right? “So, what do you have planned?”

“How do you mean?”

“For your special night. A young thing like you doesn’t have to do much, but it’s still nice to set the scene.” You and Wanda shared a glance as Agnes turned once more. “Say, I was just reading a crackerjack magazine article -“ She gave you both a playful slap on the thigh as she stood. “- called ‘How To Treat Your Husband To Keep Your Husband,’ and let me tell you, what Ralph could really use is, ‘How To Goose Your Wife So You Don’t Lose Your Wife’.”

Maybe you were just a bad judge of character or you were simply just insecure, but Agnes, to her credit, had quickly found a way to pull on your hearstrings in a perfect way.

Or maybe she was just very funny.

“Hang on. I’ll go grab it and we can start planning.” She turned to you before leaving and pointed a perfectly manicured finger. “Now, I hope you don’t have plans, Kiddo! Suducing a man is a lesson no school could teach you, Though a pretty gal like you shouldn’t need a whole lot.” She laughed and you couldn’t help but feel the warm rush to your cheeks at the compliment. “Oh, this is gonna be a gas!”

With a final giggle and smile, Agnes was gone. You moved closer to Wanda as she let out a happy sigh.

“Before she comes back,” She turns to you fully. “- can I throw that horrid plant out?”

———

“-and you don’t have a song? Nothing special you played at your weddding?” Agnes asked, the magazine sitting on her lap.

“No, nothing special.” That seemed to be the go to answer for Wanda; no song, no inside joke and not even a favourite date. Maybe that was the new era of marriage?

“I’ll just loan you some records then.” Agnes said before pointing to the notepad in your hand. “Mark that off the list, Kiddo.” You nodded and did just that. “What are we up to?”

“We’ve got wardrobe, music and...” God, you had horrible handwriting. “Oh, decor!” Agnes let out a happy hum and looked back at the article.

“Hmm... oh, what about seduction techniques?”

“Oh, I have those.” The loud chuckle made Wanda frown, suddenly unsure.

Agnes was really good at that.

“Of course, you do.”

“Just out of curiosity, what does it say?” You both leaned in, the chair you were sitting on unfortunately made it impossible to see over her shoulder.

“That you should stumble when you walk into a room so he can catch you. It’s romantic.”

“Any other tricks?”

“You could point out that the death rate of single men is twice that of married men.” She suggested with a smirk.

“Now, that’s romantic.” The shared laughter is quick to die down when the phone rings. “Oh.” Agnes hands you a glass of apple cider, a small enough glass to blur the moral line of underage drinking, and raised hers with a grin.

“Drink up, dear.”

“Vision residents.” Wanda said politely over the phone, the voice of her husband making her grin. “Vision, sweetheart.” You had to stop yourself from grimacing at the bitterness of the drink, not a hint of apple was in it. Alcohol was truely disgusting.

“Don’t worry, dear. I have everything under control.” She turned towards you both with a knowing smile, debating whether or not to wrap the cord around her fingers like the giddy school girl she felt like.

Agnes took another sip and clicked her tongue. “Oh! I knew you looked familiar.” She said, adverting you attention. “You’re Lori’s girl, aren’t you?” You couldn’t explain why your stomach dropped. “Lovely woman, real smart cookie. Didn’t she want to be an actress or a.... hmm, oh....um -“

“A journalist.” The bitterness of the cider in that moment seemed like heaven, and you downed the rest in one go. Agnes giggled and nodded.

“That’s right, a journalist, very modern.” The conversation died after that, instead filled with tonight’s plan for Wanda. But even when you laughed and giggled along, deciding which record of Agnes’ to put on, that pit of dread remained.

You just wanted to know why.

———

So maybe baking wasn’t your strong suit, or even a decent hobby, but you did know how to set a mood. The candlight that filled the living room and the smell of vanilla (Agnes had enough of it to make you dizzy) was just the right amount of sweetness and romance.

“All done!” You call with a proud smile on your face. You turned as Wanda peaked her head out from the kitchen door.

“Aw, Kiddo, what would I do without you?” She had her hair curled to perfection, and makeup that made her look like a porcelain doll. She was the perfect wife and you had to admit, Agnes was right about you taking notes. “Are you sure you’ll get home okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” You grab your coat from the dining chair and give her a final smile. “Have fun.” She disappears back in the kitchen and you try to hide the knowing smirk on your face as you hear the front door. “I know, I know, I’ll be gone in two min-“

“You never told me you had kids.” A male voice, one you had never heard before, interrupted you. Your coat buttons were long forgotten as the couple strolled in; Vision looking just as horrified and confused as you.

“I... uh.”

“I didn’t know you were joining us for dinner, Kiddo.” Vision said with a nervous laugh. “Mr. Hart, this is my...”

“Cousin. Just flew in.” You can’t stop your hands from fidgeting as Vision nods.

“Yes! Yes, my cousin, Kiddo.”

“You’re name is ‘Kiddo’?” Mr. Hart is hostile, and his wife has to slap his shoulder when he glares at you.

“Oh stop it, it’s a lovely name.” She steps from behind her husband and lets out a small gasp. “Oh, how every atmospheric.” You forced a polite smile, blowing out one of the candles when she turns.

“What’s going on here, Vision? You blow a fuse?”

“Why don’t you take a seat...” You are quick to grab onto Vision’s hand and pull towards you with a smile. “And we’ll go and fetch the lady of the house.” Vision almost trips on the way to the kitchen behind you, you were a lot stronger then you looked.

“What’s going on?” This was not at all what you thought was going to happen. Maybe you had too much cider? “Where is she?” Vision didn’t wait for you to answer, already out of the kitchen before you could even think of a answer. “Wanda!” She was only there a moment ago.

“Vision.” Her smile fades to horror and she’s quick to move her hands away from Mr. Hart. “Oh! Oh!” She looks back and fourth from Vision and the Harts. When she caught glimpse of you, she nearly fainted, covering her chest as her cheeks bloomed a bright red.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“Well, what is... yeah, what is the meaning of...” His stammering wasn’t helping, at all, to calm anyone’s confusion. “Oh, the meaning of it! You want to know the meaning of it.... and the meaning of it is that this is the traditional Sokovian greeting of hospitality.” Wanda nodded, quickly making her way over as Vision covered her eyes. “Guess who?”

“Is that my host behind me?” She faked a laugh and you chose to find interest in your shoes.

“It certainly is.”

“Lovely to make you acquaintance.”

“Yes!” You wished the floor would suck you down to a hole in the ground, the awkwardness almost suffocating. “See, I forgot to tell you my wife is from Europe.” You look up with a grin as Vision put a hand on your shoulder. “And... so is my cousin.”

“Oh, how exotic!” Mrs. Hart said with a grin of her own, how on earth did they buy that?

“We don’t break bread with Bolsheviks.” Her husband grumbled.

“Oh, hush, Arthur!” She slapped his chest playfully with a chuckle. “Have you no culture at all ? And that dress!”

“Yes! It’s... “ Vision can’t help but take a double take at his wife��s appearance. “It’s so... Sokovian, Is what it is! Yes!”

“Can I just see you in the kitchen for a moment, sweetheart?” Wanda was light and fast on her feet, making sure to pull the fabric from a lamp before going to the kitchen.

“Oh, Yes!” Vision gestures to the candles and follows his wife.

You turn to the couple, with the brightest smile you can muster.

“Please.” You say with arms wide. “Take a seat, make yourselves comfortable.” The minute they reach the couch and sit, you get to work on the candles. You only get five done before Vision barrels through the door.

“Can you help Wanda? She’s just... “ Mrs. Hart glances over her shoulder with an eyebrow raised. “- finishing dinner.”

You are quick to excuse yourself.

———

“Oh, where is she?” Wanda tightens her apron for the third time, eyes glued to the door. She had changed from the silk, now wearing a modest evening dress.

“Oh, thank heavens!” Agnes had barley even walked past the window and Wanda, wasting no time, opened the back door wide. “Oh, Agnes! You’re a life-saver.”

“What kind of housewife would I be if I didn’t have a gourmet meal for five just lying about the place?” Both you and Wanda grab for the various tins and trays, trying to save the poor woman’s arms. “Not that Ralph ever wants to eat anything but baked beans which explains a lot about his personal hygiene, mind you.”

“I can take that.” You weren’t expecting her to drop the large pot so carelessly, not being able to catch it in time as it hit your foot with loud bang on the floor. “Ow.”

“Oh, my!” Agnes dropped to her knees, wiping off your shoe and picking up the pot and lid. “Butter fingers.” You chuckle and wave it off.

“It’s okay.” She gives you a bright smile and placing everything properly on the bench.

“- sure she’s absolutely fine in there!” The sound of Vision’s voice booms through the kitchen, a warning that made you both flustered.

“Oh, thank you, Agnes. I think we’ve got it covered from here.” Wanda said, placing her hands on the woman’s back and pushing gently.

“Are you sure dear?” Agnes asked, getting a small “mhmm” back from her. “Many hands make light work. And many mouths make good gossip.”

“You’re so naughty.” Wanda scolds playfully, you were kept busy with unpacking several vegetables from her wicker basket.

“Oh, shall I pre-heat the oven then, dear?” The witch was quick to steer her around from it as you moved out of the way.

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Oh, alright then. Well I know you’re in a pinch so this menu can be done in a snap.” Agnes made sure to snap her fingers, always one for the theatrics. “Lobster Thermidor with mini-minced turnovers to start.” She moved back towards the counter, Wanda letting out a breath as she followed. “Chicken à la king with twice-cooked new potatos for your second course.” She gave you a pat as she passed you. “And steak Diane and mint jellies for your main.”

Wanda had to move back as Agnes turned once more, finger inches from her face. “Do you set you own jellies, dear?” You both nod. “Good girls.” Wanda grabs her waist again and pushed but as she inches from the outside, she calls out to you. “Recipe cards are on the counter.”

Wanda closes the door, hands up as you read one of the cards.

“So, I guess we should start with-“

“No time, Kiddo.” With a flick of her wrist; every cuboard opened and you had to duck your head down to advoid getting hit with a frying pan. “Sorry.”

The kitchen quickly was in complete chaos; the smell of various veggies and seasonings overwhelmed your senses, and while you tried desperately to grab a wooden spoon from the air to stir, the kitchen bar devider opened.

Yeah, take out the papers and the trash, or you won’t get no spending cash

You and Wanda both watched in a mix of confusion and fear, apparently Vision could sing. You reached up on your toes once more and pulled the spoon down with a satisfied grin.

If You don’t scrub the kitchen floor, you ain’t gonna rock and roll no more

Oh, right. Mrs. Hart was inches away from a stressed out witch and her teenage sidekick surrounding by levitating kitchen supplies.

Time to close the shutters.

Yakety yak! Don’t talk back

You closed them with a sharp slam.

———

The past ten minutes had to be on the list of “worst moments ever” of your life, the world felt a little too off center and you had to remind yourself that breathing wasn’t just a personal choice. Wanda wasn’t doing too great either; the chicken went from borderline ash to newly laid eggs, it was starting to feel a little too warm in here. If you weren’t panicking so much, you might have remembered that the large coat you wore that had wool lining was easily removable.

“How’s the potatos, Kiddo?” Wanda turned to you with a frown at your apparence; you were covered in flour and unmoving from the corner, bowl in hand and eyes shinny.

“Am I moving?” You ask.

“No.” She gently grabs the bowl from your hands, grimacing at the mush inside and pulling you to the table. “Why don’t you have a seat? Hmm, take a few deep breaths and just re- oh no!” It was too late to save the cream from spilling on the floor.

Wanda almost wanted to join you at the table.

“Oh, what was I supposed to do next? What was the main course again?” She let the cards float around her, hands quickly turning them.”it was... steak.” Wrong card. “No. Steak...steak Diane!”

“Yes?!” You manage to look over at the closed blinds, Vision’s voice following again soon after. “I’m just coming... Fred.”

Wanda - after taking her own advice - had finally managed to put the kitchen back in order, all pots and pans back perfectly in their cupboards. You were finally calming down, able take a minute to process as she floated the lobster to the pot of boiling water.

But both of you felt the familiar panic burn through your veins when someone came rushing in from the living room, Wanda letting out a startled gasp and throwing the meat out the window. It was only after the window slammed shut that you realised it was just Vision.

“How can I be of assistance?” He asked with huff. Funny, you wouldn’t think a robot would need to take a breather.

“Well, the chicken is no longer a chicken and the lobsters just flew the coop so the steak is the last man standing.” Wanda replied, grabbing the recipe card from the counter. “It says here I can cut down the prep time with a meat tenderizer.”

“Excellent plan. Where’s the tenderizer?”

“I’m looking at him.” He gingerly took the mallet with a small “ah” and was forced to look up when the divider opened once more.

“Hoo-hoo in there!” Mrs. Hart’s head popped in and Wanda was quick to move, almost ruining the poor woman’s curls when she closed it.

“Hoo-hoo back to you!” She pulls at the strings of her apron with a sigh. “Finish the meat, find the lobsters.” She turned to you. “Lose the coat, Kiddo.” Her apron is pulled from her hips and Vision barley catches it. “We’ll be right back.”

You stand, pulling off the emerald green coat. One look at your dress and Wanda lets out a gasp.

“Can’t go out like that.” She grabbed the coat from you and folded it on your chair, the dress was covered and she had hoped that the coat would have been an effective shield.

“I can go home and change.” You say with a wipe of your cheek. Wanda stops you from moving.

“No, allow me.” She clicks her fingers and - with a dramatic puff of smoke - your old dress is replaced with a beautiful turquoise one, white lining on the collar and floral skirt to match. It was gorgeous. “Perfection. Now, lets go.”

You give a quick “sorry” at the door, startling Mrs. Hart as you trail behind your frazzled friend.

“I hope you’re hungry.” She said with a smile.

“Starved, is more like it.” Mr. Hart replied as he pushed off the couch, a frown permanently placed on his face.

“My head is starting to feel woozy.” A low growl from your stomach seemed to agree with Mrs. Hart, luckily a loud bang from the kitchen covered the sound.

“Were either of you aware that married men are killing single men at an alarming rate?” Wanda’s hands never stopped moving, and the nervous chuckle only made Mr. Hart more frustrated.

“What are you going on about?” Another loud bang made you all jump and you had to stop yourself from cursing. “And what’s going on in there?” You luckily didn’t have to stop him from moving as Wanda fell ontop of him, his hands catching her by the arms.

The room seemed to spin, things were moving so quickly you could barley keep up. Wanda was still in the man’s arms when a loud knocking filled the room, you were sure you were going to faint.

“Who could that be?” Wanda practically ran to the door, happy for the distraction and Vision was quick on her heels. Mrs. Hart pulled at your sleeve, a kind smile on her face.

“Are you alright, dear?”

“I... uh,” The words got lost in your mouth. Could everyone just calm down for a second? The slam of the door forced you both out of the small moment.

“Who was that?” Her husband asked.

“A salesman”

“Telegram!” Vision felt the glare of Mr. Hart. “A man selling telegrams.”

“Wouldn’t you know it.” Wanda added, hands behind her back. “Good news is more expensive.” You couldn’t hear what Vision said after that, but by the way his wife frowned and pulled her apron off him, it must’ve been yet another problem. She glided past you, the sight of a pineapple behind her back didn’t answer any questions, but you let her go on her way regardless.

“Well.” Vision said, hands on his hips proudly. “I think tonight’s going swimmingly. Anyone for Parcheesi?”

“My head is spinning.” Mrs. Hart replied, feet dragging her to the couch.

“Oh, Mrs. Hart -“ You grabbed her arm, gently helping her down as Vision fanned her face.

“Did you hear that? My wife’s head is spinning. Generally speaking, I don’t like her head to do that.” You could feel the annoyance radiating off him. “You know, I’m beginning to think you’re not management material, Vision.”

“Sir, if you could just wait a few -“ The glare he gave almost made your knees buckle, looking at Vision for help as he continued.

“You know, I had high hopes for you. But from what I’ve seen here tonight, you can barley keep it together. I mean, look around.” He gestured around him with his hands. “There’s all the chaos going on in your household. Now, when are we gonna eat?”

“Dinner is served.”

Oh, thank God.

The table behind you was set to perfection; each plate the perfect distance apart, and each with a set of cutlery and wine glass. You’re stomach was growling and you were quick to move to your seat - the only glass filled with some kind of juice - and gave Wanda a grateful smile.

“Breakfast for dinner? How very-“

“European.” Mrs. Hart interrupted, eyes glued to the table.

“Ohh! Let’s have a toast!” Vision moves to his end of the table, the Harts following as you raise your glass. “To my lovely and talented wife.”

“To our esteemed guests.” Wanda adds with a smile. You all clink your glasses with a small “cheers” and take a sip of the juice. It was sugary sweet, but did nothing to fill your belly. “Well, please eat before it gets cold.”

You don’t have to be told twice; sitting besides Mrs. Hart - who Vision was quick to offer a chair to like a gentleman - and letting your napkin rest on your thighs.

“So,” She said as everyone settled properly in their seats. “Where did you two move from?” She grabbed her napkin. “What brought you here?” You cut a small piece of the sausage and raised it to your mouth. “How long have you been married? And why don’t you have children yet?” Wanda let out a small laugh, so many questions!

“I think what my wife means to say is that we moved from...” You took another bite, warmth filling your body, and it took everything in to not gulp down the whole plate.

“Yes, we moved from...” Wanda’s face was a exact mirror of her husband’s, both struggling with empty memory.

“And we were married...”

You couldn’t stop eating, fork always full of egg and toast, the conversation becoming background noise.

“Yes, yes, we were married in...”

“Well? Moved from where ? Married when?” Mr. Hart’s voice snapped you back, another bite and you swallowed it down with a gulp of juice, eyes now between each end of the table.

“Now, patience, Arthur. They’re setting up their story. Let them tell it.” His wife waved him off with a smile and bite of food. Wanda stumbled once more, her fumbling only causing the tension to rise.

“Yes, what exactly is your story?”

“Oh, just leave the poor kids alone.” You took another sip, gagging as you felt something on your tongue.

“No, really, I mean,” It was slimy and thin, and as you pulled it out with your fingers, confusion filled you at the sight of a brown leaf. “I think it’s a perfectly simple question. Honestly.” It dropped to your plate and you picked up the almost empty glass, the bottom was a dark orange, and the hundreds of little pieces floating in it made you feel sick. “Why did you come here? Why?”

Something’s Wrong

Mr. Hart slammed his hand down on the table, startling you to the point of completey dropping your glass, juice staining the carpet by your feet. You were left helpless as you stared at the man in front of you.

“Damn it, why? Why did you...” The air from his lungs vanishes, face turning red as he chokes.

“Oh, Arthur, stop it.”

Why won’t you move?

“Stop it.”

This doesn’t make sense

“Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.”

Mr. Hart grips the table, letting out another failed attempt of breath before vanishing under it, still chocking.

“Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.”

This is wrong, all wrong

“Stop it.”

I want to go home

“Vision, help him.”

And just like that, the world makes sense again.

You let out a shaky laugh as Vision helps the man up from the floor. You take one more bite of food as Mr. Hart checks his watch with a sigh.

“Well, would you look at the time?”

“Yes. We’d better be going.” Mrs. Hart replies, standing as you follow suit, making sure to tuck your chair in.

“Well... are you both alright?” Wanda asks, giving you a small smile as they walk to the door.

“We had such a lovely time.” She turns quickly and wraps her hands around Wanda’s eyes. “This guest is leaving your home.” She laughs.

“Yes, thank you for coming.”

You pay them no mind; body moving passed them on autopilot, you didn’t care to hear them say goodbye, didn’t care when Mr. Hart told Vision about a promotion, or when Wanda offered you the guest bedroom since it was just “too late to walk home alone, you didn’t care.

And when you finally slipped into the covers, eyes shutting as sleep took hold of you, you finally felt at peace.

Your mind was yours, and yours alone for the first time that day, and you wanted nothing more then to wake up under the star-lights in your bedroom.

Tag list (open, just ask)

@white-wolf-buckaroo @y-napotat @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @fruitiseavey

All my stuff is open, and I’m always happy to hear from people so feel free to let me know what ya thought. I always get stuck halfway through writing but I hope it wasn’t too hard to read

Off to the sixties we go

[allisonxmoynihan]

illicit affairs ~ a. turcotte

Requested: yes | no

Song: this series is loosely inspired on Illicit Affairs by Taylor Swift (you can listen here!) 

Note: okay this is my first time writing in months and i’m kind of scared about it, but please let me know your thoughts, opinions, feedback, whatever! Special thanks to @hockeyhughes11​ for helping me with this and reading it as I wrote, you rock!

Word Count: 2663

“y/n,” his shaky voice whispers hoarsely on the other side of the phone.

“Hey superstar!” you cheer, an inevitable smile fluttering across your lips, as you turn the tv off so you could hear him better, pressing the phone firmly against your ear as if not to miss a thing he says.

You hear a faint scoff in the background, “wanna come over?” he slurs, sending the butterflies racing in your stomach like the low hum of his voice always did.

You slowly release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in, “not celebrating the big win with the boys? 3 goals and 2 assists and the superstar doesn’t want to party?” You joke with him while scrambling around your apartment searching for your sneakers and hunting for your keys.

You sense him smiling on the other line, “I got other things to attend to tonight, you know that,”

You feel your face grow hot as your breath hitches, “c’mon y/n, i’m dying to see you…” 

~*~

Work was an absolute blur, the grouchy morning rush of commuters flooded the coffee shop and it was nonstop brewing coffee and preparing breakfast sandwiches before they ran out the door to catch a train. You were thankful for the mid morning slump; middle aged women occupying tables and catching up on neighborhood gossip and reminiscing about their sorority days.

You look up from wiping down the espresso machine to see two boys, about your age, standing on the other side of the counter, wide smiles on their faces as they laughed with each other while sneaking glances at the menu.

“Hi, welcome to Aroma Mocha Cafe! What can I get started for you today?” You exclaim, a forced smile overtaking your face.

The dark haired boy steps forward, “hey, can I please get uhhh…” his voice trails off as he looks up at the menu before he looks back down, “uhh, the seasonal iced coffee?”

You smile, “sure thing, our seasonal flavors are lavender vanilla or salted caramel, which one can I get for you?” 

You watch his face as he contemplates which one, “oh, you can’t go wrong with salted caramel!”

“Alright, your total today is going to be $2.57,” The boy quickly takes out a $5 bill and instructs you to keep the change before moving over to the pick-up counter.

As you’re preparing the two drinks for the boys you can’t help but overhear the small fragments of their conversation you can make out.

“Bro, c’mon, just ask for her number,”

“Trev, I said no.”

“You’ve been…. All… you… Alex”

“No”

“I will then”

You put the drinks down in front of them, “enjoy! Napkins and straws are straight ahead by the door,”

As you’re cleaning up your station, the dark haired boy comes back up to the counter and you feel his eyes on you before you look up and smile, “can I get you anything else? Our seasonal scones pair nicely with the coffee,”

“I’m Alex,” he says awkwardly, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets.

You nod slowly, “that’s nice…”

“We should get dinner one day,” he suggests, and when he’s met with your silence and a blank stare he adds, “you know, cuz you’re cool.”

“Oh, um, thanks, but I really can’t,”

Alex nods, looking at the pastry display case for a few minutes, “well can I at least get your number?”

You notice a group of moms, the weekly book club group, walk in the door and head up to the counter. “Alex, I’m really sorry, but it just can’t happen,”

Alex nods, looking back up at the menu, “so, uh, how long you work here?”

One of the book club moms offers you a sympathetic smile as she turns to talk with one of her friends, “Alex, I’m sorry, but we have a lot of customers right now, so if you’re not go-”

“What, am I not a customer?” he interrupts, and you breathe out heavily in annoyance.

“What can I get for you?”

“A date,” he offers with a shy, boyish smile, his dimples becoming apparent.

You sigh, scribbling your number down on a piece of paper, “fine, but only because I want you to leave me alone.”

~*~

Cold, faint rain ricocheted off of the windows of your bedroom as you crawl onto Alex’s lap, his lips nipping at your neck bound to leave marks that you’d have to figure out how to cover the next day. 

His hands slide underneath your sweater and rest gently on your hip, “no one’s home, right?” he whispers, his lips vibrating against your skin.

You rest your hands on his bare chest, feeling his heart pound against the skin, “we’re all alone baby,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his once again.

He effortlessly lifts you up and lays you down on your bed, suddenly towering over you, “you know i scored the game winning goal today” He smiles cockily.

You look into his dark brown eyes, feeling a blush creep over you, “oh and how should we celebrate, superstar?”

He chuckles softly before leaning down and kissing down your jaw, slowly removing your shirt from your body, “i got a few ideas in mind,”

Within seconds he’s on top of you, one hand kneading your breasts, the other slipping underneath your leggings and collecting your wetness. 

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” he asks, sliding your leggings and panties down your legs as your legs fall open for him and he begins to kiss down your abdomen.

You writhe underneath him and let out a gasp as his tongue licks up your folds. You run your hand through his luscious locks as he picks up his pace and begins to work at your clit. You buck your hips up as you moan out with pleasure.

“So good for me you pretty girl,” he grumbles against your dripping pussy, slipping three fingers into you, his calloused fingers pumping in and out of you. You felt a knot forming in your stomach and knew you were close.

“Alex, please, faster,” you moan, only alex lifts his head and kisses back up your torso before placing a sloppy kiss to your lips, sucking on his fingers. 

“I want you babygirl,” he mumbles as your hands fumble with the zipper on his jeans, helping him slide out of his boxers. Without any warning alex pushes into you, his thrusts harsh and fast. The room is filled with the sound of both your moans, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. And when you both reach out your highs he slows his pace to drag out your orgasm, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Such a beautiful girl,” he hums, sliding off the bed and redressing before looking over at the clock.

You suddenly feel vulnerable and exposed, bringing your blanket up to cover yourself as Alex approaches the door, “I’ll be seeing you princess,”

You wave sheepishly at the closed bedroom door that he just escaped behind, sighing at how foolish you are, how you would consistently drop everything to be there for him. You think back to the hundreds of other nights spent like this, the two of you having your moment, and him bolting as soon as he decides it’s over leaving no trace behind. 

You sit in your dark room, convinced alex does love you deep down, that he’s different and not the kind of guy that shows up on your doorstep just for sex. But you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that sometimes, you felt as if you were a pawn in his game. 

You think back to your first “date” with him, how you were defiant and didn’t want to go, but how 10 minutes quickly turned into an hour and that hour was suddenly six. He made you feel special, like you were on top of the world, like you could be something more than just a barista in a busy city. You reminisce about the time you and alex once dreamt up a future together: a small cottage in minnesota, three kids running wild in the yard after a long day at the beach. You wipe away tears that happen to fall as you realize what you’ve been trying to fight for months: you were in love with him, and you could only hope that you actually meant something to him.

~*~

The crackling noise of the firewood and the light tunes of your favorite band filled your living room where you and your best friends sat binge watching the latest reality tv episode. You lean forward to grab an oreo off the plate on the coffee table, breaking it in half and eating the side without cream first.

���You know the guy I matched with on tinder the other night?” maddie asks, taking her phone out. You and christine hum in unison.

“So, i was curious and went to look at his instagram, and…” her voice trails off as she scrolls through her phone’s home screen, “here i’ll just show you.” 

You lean back on the sofa, running your hands through your hair, “how bad is it?”

“You really gotta get better taste, if i see one more picture of a guy holding a fish i’m going to lose it,” Christine laughs, grabbing an oreo for herself.

“Oh shit,” maddie whispers

“What?” you and christine ask impatiently

“Hey, uh, y/n, isn’t this the guy from the coffee shop? Mr. I want a date and I refuse to leave this shop until I get your number?” she laughs, and you instantly reach to take her phone from her hands desperate for any opportunity to see him, but when you see the picture your face falls and you can feel the color drain. “It was on my explore page…” maddie adds, reaching for her phone but you turn away continuing to look down at the screen.

There he was. Your superstar. Wide grin, dimples present, his hair still wet and curling loosely at the ends, his button down shirt wrinkled and exposing his upper chest. His arm wrapped tightly around a girl’s tiny waist, her pressing her lips firmly against his cheek, cupping his face in her perfect hands. 

You swallow the lump that formed in your throat, scoffing as you toss maddie her phone back, “so? He was just a normal customer, never even took me on that date he insisted on” you lie, turning your attention back to the tv.

Your mind is racing and the conversation between the other girls is drowned out by the flood of thoughts running through your mind. Alex was so much more than just the coffee shop boy, he meant everything to you, he was the only person that could make you feel whole and complete. You hated being a secret to him especially when he consumed every single one of your thoughts, you wished you could be the girl that meant something to him, the one to wear his jerseys at his games as you cheer him on, the one who goes out with his teammates after a big win, the one who gets to go home with him for the holidays to meet his family and fall in love with them for raising the man of your dreams. But you weren’t that girl. You weren’t her and you never would be her.

Later that night you go to alex’s instagram, and it’s as if you got fifty punches right to the gut all over again. Alex was happy with her. Hannah. That was her name. Alex was happy with hannah. You continue to scroll down his page and see that hannah first appeared on his page six months ago. The two of them pressed up against each other in the dim light of a bar, him leaning down and kissing her cheek. You laugh sadly at how stupid you were thinking that what you had with him was real and that you were anything more than someone to help fill a void. Your phone lights up with an incoming call, alex’s name appearing.

“Hey superstar!” you cheer, forcing a smile.

“Hey you,” he grins, “i was just thinking about you actually, can i come over?”

You say yes without hesitation, and that’s when you realize that you would continue ruining yourself for his sake as long as it meant he was going to stay in your life. You’d do anything to make him stay.

~*~

Work was a hassle, the coffee shop getting slammed with the drop of the holiday drinks, the city streets constantly bustling with tourists and holiday shoppers trying to find the best deals. You were excited to finally have a weekend off to just relax and have no worries. You approach your apartment door and smell the savory aroma of food cooking, and you're confused since you live alone.

You cautiously push open the door, peeking into the kitchen as a smile blossoms on your face. “Alex!” you cheer, running up to hug him as he peppers your face with kisses. 

You pull away from him, setting your bag on the kitchen table, “what are you doing here?”

He turns his attention back to the stove, “well, i know you’ve been stressed with work and school lately, so I thought i’d do something nice for you,”

Your heart swells and you begin to feel all warm and fuzzy, “i don’t deserve you,” 

He laughs, “go change and get comfy, dinner will be ready soon. It’s your favorite and I also brought your favorite movies.”

You smile to yourself as you walk into your bedroom, putting on your pajamas and walking back out to see alex has prepared two identical plates, “ready?” he asks, a boyish smile on his face.

The night is filled with the two of you snuggled into each other’s sides on the couch, laughing at all the same parts of the movies, crying at other parts, making jokes here and there, and planning a getaway trip to a small coastal town. After three movies, and the sun long gone, the soft beat of his heart begins to lull you to sleep.

“You sleepy princess?” he asks softly, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to your bed.

You’re half asleep as he tucks you in and presses a kiss to your forehead, “sleep well baby”

You reach your arms out for him, “you’re not going to stay with me tonight?” your voice is sad, not wanting this picture perfect night to end.

You hear him laugh as he runs his finger up and down your hand, pressing a light kiss to the top of it, “not tonight princess, i’ll call you tomorrow though.”

“Promise?”

“I cross my heart and hope to die,”

“Good,” you mumble, turning over and getting comfortable.

There’s a long silence and you know he’s still in the room since the hallway light is peeking into your room. And you can’t help but fall asleep happy, thinking that life is finally going right and you have the best guy by your side.

“I love you…” 

You hear the floorboards shift under his weight and just like that he’s escaped into the abyss of the night, just like he always does. 

~*~

“So you coming over or what?” he repeats, a harsh undertone suddenly appearing.

You smile, impatiently pressing the elevator button over and over again because it never seems to come quick enough, “uh, yeah, yeah, I’m on my way. I was thinking, we could maybe watch that movie you were talking ab-”

His deep voice cuts you off, his usually kind and patient tone now stern, “we need to talk.”

You stare at your reflection in the elevator door as your face falls, trying to fight the inevitable tears that spring to your eyes, and you just know tonight isn’t going to be like the others.

[youllneverknowrac]

Oscar Diaz-Party Of Seven

(Momma Bear Series)

For @princesshenney

Sunday’s were meant to be one of leisure but not for you. For you it meant going to the grocery store to stock up on enough items to feed six people and a baby for the upcoming week. It was hectic to say the least and honestly something you preferred to do alone so it would be done faster. However today everybody seemed to want to tag along. Oscar not wanting to stay alone since Alexander was being more fussy than usual. Angel not wanting to stay with just his big brothers if daddy and mommy both had to go. Carlos being a bit more clingy that usual and wanting to be at your side at all times. Anthony now wanting to come since Carlos wouldn’t be home to play with him, and Junior coming since he was home from school for the weekend and needed to do a bit of his own grocery shopping for his dormitory. So a ‘Diaz, party of seven’ outing to the grocery store it was.

“You boys buckle up back there.” You call out to the three older boys from the passenger seat. All of them crammed into the third row since the two car seats were in the second and no one wanted to sit in between them,”You too Junior.” You add, when you look over your shoulder to see him not moving.

“I’m doing it.” He mumbles, not turning back around until all of them are safely buckled.

“Thank you.” You tell him, taking Oscar’s hand in your and resting it on the middle console,”Come on, I don’t want it to get too late.” You sigh, already knowing this was going to be a long trip.

“Which store mami?” Oscar asks, knowing you usually liked to switch up.

“Sams.” You tell him, only because the baskets were bigger, meaning both little kids could sit in one together. Plus they had really tasty pizza at the entrance and you figured bribing your kids with food would be a good way to get them to behave. At least you hoped.

“Sams?” Angel asks excitedly,”I want pizza mommy, pleeeease. I wuv pizza.” He grins, Oscar finally pulling out of the driveway and heading in the right direction.

“If you all promise to be on your best behavior everybody can get a slice.” You say, all the boys excited at this information.

“Can I get a toy mommy?” Angel asks hopefully

“Yeah us too!” Carlos calls out from the back, us being him and Anthony.

“I don’t thin...”You begin, Oscar cutting you off.

“Deja de pedir cosas.” He says, glancing at all of them in the rear view mirror,”We came to get what we need and that’s it. So don’t get in that store and start asking for random little stuff,”Me entiendes?”

“Yes papa.” All three voices grumble, Angel pouting and crossing his arms. You don’t say anything and smile over at Oscar when he looks at you, bringing your guys intertwined hands to his lips and pressing a kiss to yours. You yawn and look out the window, watching the scenery fly by as the rest of the car ride is quiet. Thankfully Alex always passed out in the car, but that also meant he was going to be upset when you wake him up. And you were, because you were not carrying around the car seat just so he could sleep.

When you reach the store thankfully it wasn’t too packed ,meaning you could also get out a smidge faster,“Ima go grab a basket.” Oscar says once he finds a spot that wasn’t too far away and parks in it.

“Okay.” You reply and open up the passenger door, all the boys taking off their seat belts, even Angel who mastered how to do it a few days ago. You go to Alexander’s side first and take your time taking him out. Your youngest son wasting no time in protesting as a soft cry turns into a full blow wail,”It’s okay my baby.” You say, holding him to your chest and shushing him,”Grab the diaper bag. One of you.” You order the older boys before going around to the other side so they can climb out. You open Angel’s door next and lean against it, the toddler still in his car seat as you wait for Oscar to return.

“Why is Alex sad?” He asks with furrowed eyebrows

“He just doesn’t like to wake up, he wants to sleep all day long. Kinda like daddy.” You tell him, still bouncing Alexander in your arms who was starting to quiet down. The other boy’s standing to the side after getting out and closing the door. Oscar approaching with not one, but two carts.

“Daddy’s lazy.” Angel giggles,”He snores in my ear.” He says before imitating a sleeping Oscar, causing you to laugh out loud.

“Shhh, he’s coming.” You playfully warn, Angel instantly calming down and sitting still.

“Where’s the wipes?” Your husband asks when he reaches you, knowing that you liked to wipe the carts down if the kids were gonna sit in them.

“Diaper bag.” You inform him, letting him clean down the one that was going to hold the kids before putting Alex and then Angel in.

“Mommy?” Carlos asks walking up to you

“Yeah baby?”

“Can I sit in your cart?” He asks hopefully,”I don’t want to walk. My feet hurt.”

“Sure, but you can’t complain when I start throwing grocery’s in.” You say and he nods happily in understanding before climbing into the cart as well, your sassy toddler turning around to look at him.

“No Car-car. Only two here, you go sit with daddy.” Angel says and points to the other cart,”Now mister.”

“Nuh uh, you don’t tell people what to do.” You scold as you began pushing the basket, everybody else following behind,”Carlos can sit in here if he wants too, so be nice.”

“But mommy...”He begins

“No, no but’s. Tell your brother he can sit with us.”

“You can stay with us.” He says softly, holding his head down,”Sorry.”

“It’s okay bro.” Carlos reply’s nonchalantly, giving you a smile to reassure you about his feelings.

“Can we get some stuff for nachos?” Oscar asks behind you,”Like loaded nachos. I want the works. Pinche cheese, frijoles, jalapeños. Todo.”

“Aren’t you the one that said don’t ask for anything?”

“I meant our pack of four-lokos that can actually talk. They don’t got money for extra shit, but their daddy sure does.” Oscar says as he uses a free hand to ruffle Anthony’s head,”Broke ass. Even bigger broke ass.” He adds pointing a finger to Junior. The lot of you entering the store and heading down the first aisle.

“Aye, I got a part time job now.” Junior defends amusingly as he shoves Oscar’s side.

“My bad big baller.”

“Can you guys tone it down please? We’re in the store now.” You say and stop to give everybody a look,”And just for being a show off, now everybody is getting something they want.” You tell your husband, who keeps his mouth shut and looks away in defeat.

“You two.” You say to the oldest boys,”Are in charge of getting the pizza. Here’s some money. Come find us when you have it.” You tell them and hand them over some cash, watching as they go get in line,”You stay with me.” You tell Oscar before continuing down the aisle,”Dairy first.”

“I know that, I’m your husband not a child.” He says but nonetheless does as you say.

“Shhh, I’m thinking.” You wave him off, looking at everything on the cold shelf’s.

“Yeah. She’s thinking.” Angels grins,”Smart mommy.”

“Listen to the kid, he knows what he’s talking about.” You say and pull Oscar closer by grabbing his cart.

“You two always gang up on me. It isn’t fair.” He chuckles

“Life isn’t fair papi. Now let me shop.” You smile sweetly, patting the side of his face before you work on filling Oscar’s cart first. Grabbing two gallons of milk, cheese, eggs, butter, yogurt and other small things you had on your mental list. Heading to the deli section next, letting Oscar grab a few different things he could throw on the grill while you grab basic lunch meat.

“Should we get some seafood?” He asks as you look around for where to go next.

“Next time.” You say,”Let’s not overdue it, besides I already have dinner planned out for the week. Unless it’s something you really want, then I’ll make it.”

“Nah, it’s okay mami. I just wanted some shrimp and fish, we can get it on the next trip.” He shrugs,”I don’t mind, besides you’re already making the nachos for us.”

“We can do a whole seafood boil next time.” You smile and give him a quick kiss before carrying on with the shopping. Junior and Anthony soon coming up to you guys with a small box of pizza, one slice for everybody. You all shop while eating, even letting Alexander chew/eat one of your pepperonis. After while both carts becoming full, Carlos having to climb out towards the end of the trip so you could add a few last minute items.

“Okay one game or one toy.” You tell each of your kids when you reach the toy aisle,”You can get whatever, it doesn’t have to be this aisle obviously.” You tell Junior when you reach him. Anthony settling on a board game, Carlos getting a little nerf gun and Angel wanting a little hot wheel car. Junior going to a different aisle and grabbing some deodorant.

“I ran out. I was going to steal dads, but since he’s paying I might as well get a new one.” Junior says when he comes back.

“Yeah you’re welcome.” Oscar says and lightly hits him with the basket,”You’re all welcome.”

“You wanted to show off, so it’s only fair.” You laugh

“Thank you daddy.” Angel says and hugs the toy to his chest,”We can play together when we go bye bye from here.”

“Thanks mijo.” Oscar smiles and leans down to give Angel a kiss before all of you head over to the empty check out line.

“Start with the heavy stuff.” You say as you begin to pile everything on the belt, the kids helping out.

“Papi, get the baby.” You say when he starts to cry again, Angel covering his ears since he was so close.

“Let me see.” Oscar says and makes way through the cramped area to grab Alex,”Want me to just head out with him? I can pull the car up.” He suggest

“Yeah that will probably be easier Carlos and Anthony go with your dad.” You order, watching as the total on the screen goes up and up. The four of them head out, leaving you with Junior so he could help with the basket and Angel.

“You’re total is 245.56.” The lady behind the cash register says. You Internally groan at the cost as you pull out the debit card from your wallet and hand it over.

“I’ll spot you when we get home. I forgot my wallet.” Junior says quietly, knowing that some of these items would be heading back up to campus with him.

“It’s fine baby, don’t worry about it. You save your money.” You tell him and grab your card back when she holds it out.

“Mom I can’t do that. I threw a lot of stuff in the cart.”

“Junior, I mean it.” You say seriously,”It’s okay.”

He groans and nods his head,”Thank you. I love you mom.”

“Love you too JJ.” You say waiting until both carts are refilled until walking towards the exit of the store. Oscar parked on the side directly in front. You hurry over and take Angel, letting Oscar jump out of the car to help Junior load the back of the car up.

“Mommy my car was free?” Angel asks as you buckle him up, just now realizing that you didn’t put his car on the belt.

“Yup totally free.” You smile and shake your head,”How cool is that?” You ask rhetorically

“So cool.” He giggles before playing with it some more. You smile and leave his side so you can help with the last of the grocery’s. Junior going ahead and climbing through the back.

“How much was it?” Oscar asks as he slams the trunk close

“245.” You tell him

“Damn. You sure we can’t send at least one of them back?” He chuckles

“Too late.” You grin, the both of you going to your respective sides, Oscar pulling out of the lot moments later to begin the journey home.

“Everybody grab some bags.” Oscar says after a lengthy car ride home, traffic making the car ride 25 minutes longer. He grabs Angel and sets him down, letting him run to the front door to wait. You grab Alex and dig around for the house key, the three of you entering after you manage to unlock it.

“Leave it open.” You call out,”Come to the potty.”

“Coming.” Angel says and heads inside, going to your bedroom so he can try use the bathroom while you change the baby. The rest of your family bringing in the grocery’s so you could put them away, never letting them help with that part since they never did it to your liking.

“Did you do anything?” You ask Angel when he comes out of the bathroom in just his pull up now, fastening Alex’s diaper at the same time.

“No. Potty’s empty.” He says

“Why did you take your shirt off?” You giggle and poke his tummy

“I don’t know. I wanted to.” He laughs, causing you to laugh more as you three head back to the main area of the house.

“That’s all of it.” Oscar informs you and takes Alex so you can get started in the kitchen.

“Thanks.” You smile and give him a kiss before moving on to your task. The boys in your life all gathering around the the tv to watch something while they wait for you to finish up and then make your famous nachos. You occasionally glance over and a smile can’t help but form on your face, even though they made something as simple as shopping so crazy, you still wouldn’t change it or them for the world.

[aion-rsa]

Marvel’s Loki Episode 5 Ending Explained: Who is the Real Villain of the MCU Series?

https://ift.tt/36oBhxO

This article contains spoilers for Loki episode 5.

Agent Mobius did say that time ran differently in the TVA but who could have imagined that the penultimate episode of Loki would arrive so quickly? Marvel’s Loki episode 5 “Journey Into Mystery” keeps up a streak of superb installments for this increasingly superb show. 

In this hour, Mobius joins the side of the heroes, Judge Renslayer has some questions, and Loki and Sylvie’s relationship continues to blossom thanks to the conjuring of an uncomfortable green blanket. Equally as important, however, is that “Journey Into Mystery” raises some big questions about the ending of this show and the future of the MCU. Questions like…

What is The Void?

This episode does a pretty good job of succinctly describing what the Void is. The Void is the end of time, itself. Since the Time-Keepers are unable to completely destroy matter (Theory of Conservation of Mass and all that), they send unwanted Variants to the end of the timeline to languish or be swallowed by a hungry monster (more on him in a bit). 

In Marvel Comics, The Void is something of an actual character. It is a destructive amorphous entity capable of both adopting a corporeal form and destroying the universe as we know it. During the Siege storyline, the Void even killed Loki, which then facilitated his “rebirth” as Kid Loki. See how this all starts to fit together?

What is Alioth?

In the world of Loki, Alioth is a big, hungry cloud monster that prowls the Void looking to consume yummy matter. It’s the TVA’s unwitting cleaning service, wiping out all the Variants that the TVA can’t eliminate. Classic Loki helpfully offers up the analogy that the Void is a shark tank, and Alioth is the shark.

Alioth of the comics was first introduced in 1993’s Avengers: The Terminatrix Objective #1. That same comic also introduced Ravonna Renslayer and features Kang the Conqueror as its central villain. Oh yeah, it’s all coming together. 

Alioth is considered to be the first being that broke free from the constraints of time. It’s no wonder then that it would make an appearance in Loki.

What’s Up With That Castle?

It’s about time a Marvel villain lives in an honest-to-goodness castle! While it’s still possible that this is a misdirect and this environment is not what it seems, for now it looks like episode 6 will be headed off to a spooky castle.

Interestingly, there are no shortages of spooky castles in Marvel comics lore. Perhaps the most famous one is Castle Doom within Doomstadt. Bet you’ll never guess who lives there! Yes, it’s ol’ Victor von Doom himself, Doctor Doom to his friends…of which he has very few.

Another notable abode is Castle Limbo, which serves as the home of Immortus, who was once Nathaniel Richards a.k.a. Kang the Conqueror. Look, Kang is a confusing character, so you’ll just have to trust us on this one.

What is Mobius’s Plan?

Thank the gods that Loki and Mobius finally embraced their destiny as best bros. Mobius leaves all the Lokis behind in The Void to return to the TVA. What does he plan to do once he gets there? Why, burn the whole thing down, of course!

It’s unclear how Mobius believes he’s able to pull off such a grand task. The TVA is an enormous bureaucracy with seemingly infinite moving parts. The only real weapon that Mobius has at his disposal is the truth. The truth changed his and Hunter B-15’s perspectives but can it do the same for everyone else? The only other named TVA employee that we’re aware of is Casey (Eugene Cordero). He seems like a sweet, non-confrontational lad. But perhaps that will all change once he realizes he’s been robbed of fish dinners his whole life.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

What Becomes of the Other Lokis?

The most pleasantly strange aspect of “Journey Into Mystery” is how many new Lokis it introduces. This hour features: Classic Loki (Richard E. Grant), Boastful Loki (DeObia Oparei), Kid Loki (Jack Veal), President Loki (Hiddleston), and Alligator Loki (uh… a CGI alligator). Naturally, each of those Lokis has their own official hashtag sprite on Twitter. 

Fittingly for their chaotic energy, each of the Lokis introduced in this episode have quite different ultimate fates. Boastful Loki betrays his Loki comrades, because that’s just what Lokis do. The subsequent scene of President Loki and his Void army battling the other Lokis is one of the best moments of this show yet. That causes our Loki to take off with Classic, Kid, and Alligator. When Mobius invites that trio to come back to the TVA with him, they decline because the Void is their home now.

Read more

TV

Sylvie is the Secret Heart of Marvel’s Loki

By Lacy Baugher

Games

How Loki and Fallout Use Retrofuturism to Unnerve Us

By Matthew Byrd

That is the last we’ve seen of Kid Loki and Alligator Loki thus far but not the last of Classic Loki. The comic-accurate trickster returns to help Loki and Sylvie when they need it the most. He uses stunningly powerful magic to create an approximation of Asgard all around him, distracting the ravenous Alioth. Even Sylvie with her enchantress power is stunned by Classic Loki’s abilities. 

Is Richard E. Grant’s Classic Loki Really Dead?

Ultimately Classic Loki is swallowed up by the Alioth and therefore finally blinked out of existence. Or is he? It seems like he could have been utilizing the very same technique here he claims to have used to escape his death at the hands of Thanos in Avengers: Infinity War. “I think we’re stronger than we realize,” Loki tells Sylvie, so this would certainly be a case of that if it came down to it.

Plus, that leads us to the final and most important question that this episode raises. 

Who is the Villain?

Who indeed? There has been one name bandied about as the most likely Loki Big Bad. Before we get to him (and it’s absolutely who you think), indulge us in another theory. What if the villain of Loki is…

Classic Loki or Another Loki Variant

Richard E. Grant is kind of a big deal as an actor. It’s not every day you can find a seasoned performer who can portray a kindly exterior with some menace underneath. With that in mind, it’s possible that Classic Loki is a bigger character than he appears at first glance. This episode goes out of its way to communicate just how powerful Lokis can be. And when you combine that kind of god-like power with a trickster’s sensibility, it’s not hard to imagine that Classic Loki, or another Loki entirely, could be pulling all the strings. 

Kang the Conqueror 

While Loki confronting himself in the end would make for a dramatically interesting enterprise, the hard evidence at hand still seems to indicate that Kang the Conqueror is our real villain. The internet at large has been banging the drum for Kang the Conqueror as the ultimate Loki villain for weeks now and it’s not hard to see why.

This isn’t a case of collective delusion like with all of the Nightmare/Mephisto WandaVision theorizing, Kang really does seem to be a legitimate possibility. For starters, we know we already have an MCU actor for Kang in the fold already in the form of Jonathan Majors (Lovecraft Country). Kang was announced for Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania but doesn’t it sound very Marvel for the character to make his unexpected debut here?

In the comics, Kang the Conqueror is wrapped up in multiverses, timelines, and all manner of heady sci-fi nonsense that Loki is already invested in. In fact, as Reddit user u/Hpotter821 points out, one iteration of Kang in Marvel comics sought to become Immortus by eliminating all of his other Variants. It would seem that creating the TVA to police other timelines would be quite useful in that mission. 

Then there’s the fact that Kang has at least some level of crossover with just about every major character and element of Loki. Kang has a relationship with Ravonna Renslayer in the comics and is also an occasional rival of Alioth. The show is not shy about injecting Kang’s aesthetic into the proceedings. While ostensibly space lizards as Loki described them, the Time-Keepers do appear to resemble the classic Kang the Conqueror look a bit. And the TVA logo? 

Oh. Hey. I just noticed that the centerpiece of the Time Variance Authority’s seal totally looks like Kang’s head. 🤷‍♂️ #Loki pic.twitter.com/93QzNDVSbi

— Ken Plume (@KenPlume) July 2, 2021

Oh yeah, that’s Kang, baby.

Perhaps by this time next week, all of this Kang conjecture will look as silly as WandaVision’s Mephisto fever dream. It’s undeniable, however, that Loki has provided us with plenty of breadcrumbs. If it’s all a Kang-sized red herring, then so be it. 

Doctor Doom

This is a considerable longshot, despite the fact that we’ve wanted it to happen for a long time. Doom was at the center of Marvel Comics’ multiverse-shattering Secret Wars event by Jonathan Hickman and Esad Ribic, and the castle we see in this episode’s conclusion sure does look an awful lot like his humble Doomstadt home.

Every time we get excited about Doctor Doom or the potential Secret Wars threads embedded in this show, we’re brought back to reality by the fact that there’s virtually no way that Marvel would introduce arguably their greatest villain in a teasing series finale episode, especially not when they’ve got the Kang-centric Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania to tee up with Kang. Yes, we’re hedging our best by including him, but can you blame us?

Anyway, patience, Doom fans. The Fantastic Four movie is finally a priority for the MCU, and we should see that by 2023.

Kevin Feige

This obviously won’t happen but in the spirit of Marvel’s next Disney+ series What If…?, what if Loki and Sylvie arrive to the throne room in the castle and Marvel Studios head Kevin Heige is hanging out there wearing one of his trademark baseball caps? As witnessed in WandaVision and now Loki, this phase of Marvel cinematic storytelling is clearly about setting up a new multiverse of possibilities. What better way to introduce that multiverse than by completely breaking the fourth wall?

OK, so there are probably a ton of better ways but Feige would at least be fun and truly unexpected.

The post Marvel’s Loki Episode 5 Ending Explained: Who is the Real Villain of the MCU Series? appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2Uv1SXs

[fuwafuwamedb]

.Hack//Gilfection Pt 3 (Gilgamesh, Hakuno, Rin, BB)

.//Chapters//. – 1 – 2 –

___

Rin was a pain in the ass.

This was the area she had decided on. She wasn’t new to the game, or so she said.

It was a little difficult to believe that she wasn’t a new player with the way she was carrying her character. No grip control. No mindfulness for that large broadsword of hers. She pulled it along behind her like a boat anchor that had been forgotten. When she went to hold it over her shoulder, which she did when they reached the doors to the place, she awkwardly shuffled and tried holding her blade one handed over her shoulder.

That didn’t work, as her dropping of the weapon gave away.

He probably could look at her stats, but it was easy enough to guess what level she was.

And Enkidu had thought that I was hopeless.

The music alone was solemn. The floors were dusted, coated with a texture layer to show that the place had been all but abandoned. Even the air, although clear, held a slight series of flakes, tiny pixels that worked like dust particles in the air.

They moved forward, through the rows of pews.

Only one thing was really worth seeing in this place. There were no rooms to go to, no other areas to visit. The whole immaculate building held but one space, one that was filled with only a singular point of interest: a statue.

Gilgamesh frowned, knowing that figure.

“Take this.”

The girl from before, adorned in white, had looked exactly like this.

The only difference was that she hadn’t been covered in chains. The torn dress on the woman’s body was plastered against herself too, doing nothing to help with the sight of her being trapped beneath metal chain links and locks.

“…There’s no one else here.”

Rin frowned, stepping to the side of the room and looking around. “There’s no one here at all…”

There wasn’t.

Gilgamesh turned his gaze to the altar.

The epitaph… Nanna… Ishtar… Ereshkigal…

The writing was faded from there.

“AH!”

Rin’s shout caught his attention, sending him spinning on his heels, his blades coming to hand and slamming into the beast that had appeared. The small gremlin was easily destroyed, falling back with a small roar.

“…You… You didn’t even flinch…”

“Should I?” Gilgamesh put his blades away. “It’s just a regular weak monster.”

“Yeah… Yeah. Weak. Right…” Her eyes drifted to the statue. “The statue looks so sad…”

What a fool.

He turned his gaze back to the statue for inspecting.

It didn’t take long now.

Rin moved to his side, her hands going to the fencing between the statue and the rest of the room. Her gaze turned downwards, her body trembling a bit.

“I guess… you’ve probably figured out that I’m a noob too, haven’t you?”

Gods, what a child.

Why was he here again? The statue was interesting, possibly enough to give him a clue where to go to find Enkidu’s avatar in this game, but…

“My um… My boyfriend played this game a lot.” Her voice lowered, like she was confessing some secret. “The idiot always got on before bed and would fish in the stream. He let me play once or twice with him, but we didn’t really go to areas. We just fished. He liked the Mac Anu area for that kind of thing.”

“Uh huh.”

“He invited me again, this time, to go to an area. He’d cleared it out and it had this great big moon in the background. I thought maybe… maybe this time he had another reason for inviting me, but the world changed.”

“Things went to a coding area with no scenic view?”

“No, it was a place that had these running numbers and there was this almost lava like place, but the lava didn’t look right.”

He’d just said that-

“Cu managed to smack my PC, totally destroying it. I was so mad and I was yelling at him for ruining the computer that he forced me to take such careful attention to, but…”

“He didn’t wake up.”

Rin looked at her hands, shaking her head. “He lay there so quietly, Gilgamesh. I’ve never had him be that quiet before.”

She’d be useful.

The next area they could go to was that area that the woman had mentioned. Wherever this moonlight area was, he wanted to go straight there next.

“Cu mentioned this code when he had the goggles on. I thought-“

“Let’s head back.”

The heart to heart wasn’t necessarily something he was interested in, but it had given him an insight into the fact that others could have suffered this. There could have been others. He would have to check the forum board when he got out of this area and checked the other.

Rin nodded, “You’re nicer than I thought.”

“Sure.” They could go with that.

He still needed her to work with him. No point in opening his mouth and pointing out the many flaws in her method of thinking, beginning with and not limited to simply trusting any character that came crawling-

BAM!

The doors flew open at the entrance.

A figure, adorned in silver and white armor, held her blade in hand. Her brown hair was loose, flowing over the feathered paldrons on her shoulders and her red accents to her attire showing just beneath her cloak.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

“We could say the same to you!” Rin shouted. “YOU’RE BEING RUD-“

“THERE’S NO TIME! GET OUT OF HERE!”

What did she-

The world was glitching, the area beginning to fade a moment before something dropped down.

“Shit!”

Rin leaped behind him, her blade held in both hands. Gilgamesh found himself pulling out his twin blades, but the other was already running forth.

She flew like a great bird, slashing down upon the golem. Her blade cut cleanly, her eyes filled with a deep, defiant look that made his damn heart flutter. He could hardly breathe as he watched the woman spin on her feet, taking that weapon that had just slashed at the golem and sending it slamming into the golem’s gullet.

In and out, a perfect stab.

The world glitched again, a strange green armor coming onto the golem.

“What’s happening?! What the fuck is that!?”

“…Shit, another glitch. These computer viruses have been making these bastards have unlimited defense. It’s basically invincible,” the stranger woman growled.

“…This must be what got him,” Rin breathed. “Get out of the way, I’ll kill it!”

“You idiot!”

She was already sprinting forward though, her broadsword in hand as she rushed at the giant golem. There was no stopping the idiot. She was going to end up getting her character killed!

“Damn it!” The armored woman rushed after the woman, slamming her body against the other. The golem slammed a fist towards the two, nearly smashing them to bits.

The book.

Gilgamesh paused.

Open the book.

Book?

The power it holds can bring forth either salvation or destruction at the whim of the user.

[You used the installation Book, Book of Twilight.]

The controllers were shaking in his hands. The nerve sensors were burning, hurting his hands. He could see a flashing in the background, the world around his character vanishing away and a white base background appearing.

The attire his character had was changing.

Gone was the random red clothing. Symbols were growing up the sides, a deep red set as the color of the fabric turned to gold. He could see the gloves he had, glowing with the same color as the computer virus around the golem.

The color focused, forming a ring around his arm. It blasted a focused ray of light, a series of numbers shooting forward until-

It struck right as the beast went to kill the two nearby.

The golem hit the floor, giving the perfect opportunity.

His armored, feathered knight struck forth, her wings fluttering in the air as she stabbed the beast to die. The final roar rang out again, but this time, the glitches were gone.

As Gilgamesh felt his hands shaking, his body covered in sweat, he felt his character fall to his knees. The figure ahead rose up, her blade slowly being pulled forth from the beast.

“I see…”

See?

“You’re the same… the same as that virus. To think I’d be saved by someone like you.”

“Someone like me? Woman, I should be asking you about that knowledge of the beasts and computer viruses.”

“Recently, there’s been a lot of places damaged by viruses. It’s ruining the game, damaging people’s lives, creating a world that cannot continue. Anyone with that virus… your virus, should be struck down immediately.”

Well, that was a shame, he was looking for the cause of the trouble here too.

“Draw your sword!”

“Draw? Bullshit, woman. There’s no use in that.”

“There is for me.”

The woman was preparing to rush forward when Rin stood up. Her heel slammed against the stranger’s hip.

“YOU! What the hell did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.”

“Well?!”

“…Hakuno. My name is Hakuno.”

“Put your damn weapon away, Hakuno! Gilgamesh just saved your life and the first thing you do is threaten to kill him?”

“Woman, do you understand what kind of cancerous-“

Rin kicked her again.

“He. Saved. Your. Life!”

“…I still don’t trust you.” Hakuno set her blade back into her sheath, her eyes glaring daggers. “…You did save my life…”

“I did.”

What was her character address in this game?

That’s who he needed on his party. She had to be either an extremely attractive woman or extremely boring.

“I need time to think. That’s why I’m sparing you. If I find out that you are indeed responsible, then I will be killing you.”

She needed to give him her information immediately.

Home address. Phone number.

Body in his bed.

“What an asshole,” Rin shook her head, sighing. “I’m logging out for today. I need to visit my boyfriend in the hospital.”

She logged out, her character vanishing from his side.

He took a deep breath, debating on how to proceed.

~

“That was rather childish of you, knight of the Moon Cell, descendant of the ancient mages of Fuyuki.”

Hakuno paused, glancing over her shoulder at the woman that was standing atop the cathedral. It was impossible to mistake that voice, that purple hair.

“I do not speak to hackers.”

She tried to continue forward, knowing that the woman wouldn’t let him off that easily.

Sure enough, the fool was warping, moving to another of the spindles. BB’s long black coat fluttered softly in the wind as she giggled away with her wand in hand.

“That guy, he’s a friend of your partner’s.”

That, of all things, made her pause.

“Enkidu?”

[danetobelieve]

The More You Know || Orion and Winston

Winston wasn’t sure how to take Orion right now. They were sure that they were being lied to about a good number of things but Winston was trying their hardest not to judge them because they knew that they were in a very difficult situation. Instead, they were trying to keep them occupied and busy. Ricky was out currently, and Winston had decided that it was time to introduce Orion to the pleasures of having pretty much every sort of gaming available that you could possibly once. “So, you gamed much before? Are you like a hardcore gamer? Do you hate games and everything about them? Give me some context here dude.”

Things were still a bit awkward around the house. Not from lack of trying on Winston or Ricky’s part. They had practically bent over backwards trying to make the place as accommodating and welcoming as they could to Orion. Made him food, cleared out a bedroom for him, offered to help move his things. They were even planning a whole day around an ikea trip to get him some necessities. And yet.... well Rio was an awkward person. Around everyone. So it was hard to settle into this new environment that he was supposed to be calling home. Plus, it didn’t help that he still had to lie about so much. “Gaming? Oh yeah. I game a lot.” He smiled, blinking away from his train of thoughts to focus on Winston speaking. “I played handheld games more when I was a kid. I never had a console. But now I game a lot on the PC.” He scratches at the back of his head nervously.  “I’ve been super into like RPG’s. Trying to work my way through the Final Fantasy series. What about you? What do you like to play?”

Winston got it. This must have been awkward enough for them as it was and they were sure that being nice to them didn’t make it any better. But they had to try and get them to settle in as best they could. “Fuck yes dude,” Winston replied with a bright smile, “so we’ve got the PS4 for like entertaining and just hanging out, if we need to relax and get out of our bedrooms and all that good shit. It’s got like Netflix, Amazon, Hulu, it’s also got a VPN app I wrote on it that lets you change regions but keep that on the downlow because it isn’t technically legal and I work for the police.” Winston kept going as they made their way to the kitchen looking for snacks. “I play a shit tonne of PC games, mostly League and Overwatch, but I’ve been playing a bit more WoW recently because that is always a good time. I’m down for RPGs, me and Ricky have been playing Monster Hunter and obviously the classics like Skyrim and Witcher 3. We’ll have to get your PC set up and hardwired in when we bring it over.” 

Orion laughed, “That’s an impressive set up, but don’t worry your secret's safe with me.” They really did have like the ideal set up going on in this house. It was basically an all inclusive bachelor pad. All it was missing was a bunch of gratuitous sports paraphernalia hanging around the place. Orion wasn’t sure that either of them seemed to like the type to be into sports but Orion wasn’t sure. Orion was perched on the living room couch and turned to continue listening to Winston as they were talking about the games they played. “Nice. I am not great at any shooting games, but I’m sure they’re super fun. Especially if you have someone else to play them with. He eventually pushed himself off the couch and made his way into the kitchen also, grabbing a cup to fill up a glass of water. “What are you up to play right now?”

Rummaging through the shelves and cupboards of their kitchen, Winston found a few snacks that they could give to Rio. Chips, doughnuts, some cookies and then a bunch of fruit that they bought because Ricky didn’t really eat anything that was not full to brim with meat or fish. “Hey, when you’re playing a video game you should just enjoy whatever you’re playing,” Winston gamed to relax, not for any other reason. “Uh, I don’t really mind, we can play whatever you like or I can try and find something that’s just good fun if you want to kill time.” Winston grabbed the snacks and made their way over to the lounge, placing everything on a coffee table. “Uh, there’s snacks if you want something, I don’t think I can be bothered to actually make real food unless you’re dying from hunger, but help yourself. Me casa su casa right?” 

Winston gathered a collection of snacks together to take over to the living room area, which Orion appreciated. “Yeah, definitely. I tend to enjoy more strategy or puzzle games but I think I could enjoy most games.” Maybe he had never really enjoyed shooting games because he had been playing them alone. Any game was probably more fun while playing with friends. “Oh no worries. I love snack foods.” Most days, they were his entire meal if he was at the Scribe Headquarters. He had weighed the pros and cons of going home for food or just eating whatever he had stashed at the abandoned building. The junk food usually won out. “I’m cool with whatever. Or I can just watch you play something, that’s cool too. I’ve never really had friends that were also into gaming.” Orion shrugged, trying to be as honest as possible. Considering all the other lies, he at least owed that to Winston, right? They had gathered a pretty good collection of snacks at the coffee table, so Rio didn’t really need to worry about grabbing his own, opting instead to take a drink of his water and grabbing a cookie from the platter on the counter. He took a bite of it, noticing the semi familiar taste. Curiously, he noticed a note tucked slightly under the tray, and peaked down to get a better look at it. Once he glanced at the sender of the note, the cookie immediately caught on his throat and he began coughing, spitting the cookie out in the process. His coughing fit continued for at least a minute before he finally swallowed the entire glass of water and cleared his throat. “Where’d these cookies come from?” He yelled over to Winston, trying to make the question sound more calmly curious rather than frantic.

Everything was going well, Winston was about to suggest that they give something like Crash Team Racing a go, a nice middle of the road game for them to bond over. But then Orion was biting into a cookie and shouting at them. “Uh, someone that I’m …” Winston wanted to say seeing but they weren’t sure that was entirely true just yet, “Uh I don’t know, a friend I guess was hanging out with me earlier in the week and she left them here and you know I had them left over and Ricky doesn’t really eat cookies,” Winston was sweating slightly now. Was Orion deathly allergic to something that had been in the cookies? “Are you allergic to something in the cookies, I don’t have an epi pen or anything but if you’re allergic then you’ve got to have one right? Rio do I need to get your epipen or do I need to take you to the hospital?” Winston couldn’t understand how they hadn’t thought of this, of course they were trying to poison their new roommate in the first few days of him actually being there. 

“No, no I’m not allergic to anything.Just got caught in my throat.” Orion answered once he was finished chugging his glass of water. It was just any other cookie, but for whatever reason it tasted almost acidic in his mouth now. That was all just in his head clearly. A trick of the mind making the food taste worse than it was just because the person who baked it left a bad taste in his mouth. Though Rio wouldn’t have been especially surprised if she had made poisonous cookies, but she wouldn’t do that to Winston. He was a human, harmless. If she was testing him, she wouldn’t have left it at the door with a note. She’d want to see it for herself. Plus, it wasn’t easy to lace cookies with silver. “I-uh” he didn’t know how to approach this. He reached for the note, swiping it from the counter and reading it fully this time, eventually holding it out towards Winston. Not that they could read it from that far away most likely, but he wanted to get the message across. “Did uh- is this the note that came with the cookies?” He asked. His anxiety was practically having a field day in his brain right now, but besides a crack or two in his voice, he was remaining relatively calm. Faking a relationship with his sister had become one of his specialties after all. “That was nice of her… so you’re friends with Athena? Athena Quinn?” Rio questioned, emphasizing the last name and laughing nervously. “I didn’t know you knew my sister.”

Winston winced at the note, they weren’t exactly eager for Orion to find out about Athena in that way. They hadn’t even really told Ricky that much about her and for a good reason. “Uh, yeah, the note came with the cookies…” Winston was very aware about it saying something about enjoying the last night and they were really not a huge fan of the way that Orion was looking at them. Swallowing, their entire reality slowly began crashing down around Winston. “Athena … as in … she’s your … oh fuck … I knew she was a hunter but I didn’t realise that you two were related …” shaking their head, Winston looked up at Orion awkwardly. Looked at the scab on his lip that was mostly healed now. They’d known Orion was a hunter because of Skye, but that had never been an issue for Winston. Just because you were born a hunter didn’t mean that you were a bad person. But … had Athena done that to her own brother. “Orion I swear I didn’t actually know that you two were related, we never exactly exchanged last names and it isn’t like we’ve really … did she do that to your lip and your parents are her parents?” She knew where Winston lived. “It’s fine, I can … I uh … uh….” they were sweating now, unsure of what exactly they were meant to say or do here. “I didn’t know…”

Orion had remained calm up until now. He didn’t want to make it seem like a big deal. In some ways, it wasn’t a big deal, he supposed. It wasn’t Rio’s business who Athena or Winston slept with. Or dated. Or whatever was happening. But still… it was, well most people didn’t know Athena like he did. She was scary good at the facade that she put on, and most people fell for it hook, line and sinker. “Wait.. What?” The calm demeanor lost all traction when Winston mentioned hunter. “You knew she was a hunter?” Oh no. That meant he knew that Rio was a hunter. Or- he wasn’t a hunter but he was technically one. Winston needed to know that. “It’s not- I’m not.” He sighed. This was impossible. If Ricky knew… and before they even had the conversation about Rio knowing that Ricky wasn’t entirely human… this wasn’t good. “It’s- it’s not a big deal.” He forced himself to calm down, to take a deep breath and remain nonchalant about the situation, “I don’t control who my sister sees. That would be creepy.” He laughed, scratching at the back of his head nervously. Talking about his family always made his arms itch. He crossed his arms over his chest and gently scratched at them through his hoodie sleeves. “It was training. I wasn’t lying about that. I just lost focus and she got a good swing in.” Which was true. How did Rio get Winston to realize that his sister was crazy insane without actually disclosing just how crazy insane she was? “Like I said. She’s intense. If you know- well if you like know know. Then you know that too.”

Raising an eyebrow gently, Winston shrugged. “We met fighting vampires Rio, it was pretty obvious that she wasn’t just your run of the mill regular human, besides, no offence but Skylar and I talked about you before I offered you a spot, I’ve known you’re a hunter too for a while. But I don’t get this shit that everyone complains about, it isn’t about who you are or what you are, it is about what YOU do. You obviously aren’t going around killing anyone but biologically if she is it makes sense…” Winston would rather talk about Orion then Athena. How could she have hurt her own sibling like that? Had Winston misjudged her? They weren’t sure. “Ricky doesn’t know, unless Skylar told him, but I don’t think they exactly talk a lot for reasons I can’t really explain but I didn’t think it was my place to tell him your secret…” they swallowed gently thinking about their own secret. “I won’t have her here, if you … you know, if you don’t want her to know the truth about where you are … is she not cool with you coming out too?” Winston knew it was kind of wrong to test that story now, but they wanted the whole truth before they talked to Athena. “I know she’s intense and she obviously is actively out there … well at least killing vampires, she said she only hurts things that hurt other people but that is remarkably arbitrary but at the same time I’m not sure it is my place to judge and now I’m rambling about your sister which I’m sure you don’t want to hear and I know you don’t control her or what she does but I just want you to know that your safety comes first here, Athena’s really nice but your place here comes first…” they fell silent and grabbed a cookie, using the food to silence themselves as they tried to think about what they were going to ask next.

Orion stayed silent the whole time that Winston talked, and blinked surprisingly once the rant was over. “Uh” he began, trying to get everything in order before figuring out how to respond. Winston’s ability to incoherently babble definitely rivaled Rio’s. It was actually pretty heartwarming, know that Rio wasn’t the only one that did it. Plus, he liked having more in common with Winston, he liked them a lot. “Hold on let me think.” There was a lot to unpack in Winston’s monologue. Winston knew about Rio being a hunter. Had for a while, and yet he wasn’t afraid of him? Winston was a human, so Rio supposed he wouldn’t have that fear of death. Also, Skylar and Ricky knew each other, but weren’t talking much anymore. Could this have anything to do with the Selkie thing? Rio knew about Skylar, but had only theorized about Ricky. He hadn’t exactly proven anything or approached Ricky about it. He had learned his lesson from Skylar. Invasion of privacy, not so cool. “I’m not a killer.” Was the first thing that he wanted to make clear, “And Ricky can’t know about it. I’m not even a hunter. I mean I am technically. I was born with the abilities. But I would never hurt anyone.” But what did that make Athena? Until a couple of days ago, Rio had accepted that his sister was just like his parents. A lost cause. But he saw something the other day. A hesitation. She wasn’t a good person, Rio knew that. But maybe she was still a victim after all. “She can’t know where I am. It’s- She wouldn’t hurt me, okay? Not like that at least. But she would tell my parents. And they cannot know.” This was a mistake. Maybe he should leave. The Scribe Headquarters would work for now. Maybe Alain would let him sleep in one of the cars at the garage. Was that unfeasible? He couldn’t believe that Athena had told Winston about what she did. She must actually… like them? Rio wasn’t sure she was capable of that, but Winston was here as proof. And despite the fear and anxiety that came with the fact that Athena had crept her way into one of Rio’s friendships, he hated that twinge of jealousy that he felt in his gut. It wasn’t his place to feel jealous about their relationship. It wasn’t even his business to know about it. “I don’t- I’m not telling you to not hang out with her. I wouldn’t do that. I’m just-” What was he? What did he want to say? This was a disaster. “She doesn’t know. About the coming out part. I mean I think she knows. There was this guy that I used to have a crush on. I never told anyone but Athena just.. Knew. She would always tease me about him, talk about him whenever she hung out with him.” Rio felt gross just thinking about it. She had mostly meant it harmlessly, like the rest of the harassment he supposed. “I’m just surprised I guess. I didn’t expect you two to know each other. She must have really grown from her high school bullying days.”

Head still completely whizzing, Winston tried to calm down and think clearly. Orion’s request for a respite was a welcome break and Winston was pleased that they could their own thoughts coherent. They needed to talk to Athena and find out what was going on, because they didn’t feel like they had the whole story here. But now wasn’t the time to work out that part. Now was the time to be there for Rio. Suddenly Winston wanted to know everything. Most of all they wanted to know why both Rio and Athena seemed to have such different perspectives about their parents. She hadn’t seemed nearly as affected by them as he was. “Of course not, I never even imagined that you would be one,” Winston paused and tried to think of the best way to say it, “no offence but you don’t really strike me as the type to go looking for a fight.” They frowned gently at the insistence that Ricky couldn’t no. “No offense dude, but Ricky gets it, he will work it out eventually and then he’ll feel betrayed you didn’t tell him, you don’t have to do anything and considering that this is your secret to tell I would never dream of telling him, but he deserves to know…” they sighed gently, how had they gotten themselves into such a mess. The number one rule with roommates is that you didn’t sleep with SOs, relatives or friends. So of course Winston had already done that. The worst part was that Winston didn’t exactly get a lot of opportunity to sleep around and yet here they were fucking it up the first time they tried it. But it didn’t really change the way about how they felt with Athena. “I won’t tell her that you’re here,” Winston replied, “I won’t lie to her but I won’t tell her anything either and if she does try and come round well then Dee can get very grumpy with trespasers and she’s remarkably good at missing by a few inches with that shotgun…” Winston was sure that it wouldn’t come to that. Athena wasn’t as terrible as Rio seemed to think that she was. Winston didn’t need to hear them say it to see the anxiety and apprehension in his voice. “Look, me and Athena need to talk, about well this. I won’t make you any promises about anything, because first of all don’t make promises because fae and second of all … wait bullying?” Winston frowned at the last part of the sentence that Orion had just said. “She’s not a bully, at least she hasn’t seemed like she is a bully…?”

This wasn’t going well. The last thing that Orion wanted to do was get in the way of any of Winston’s relationships. At the same time.. He also cared about Winston. A lot, actually. He didn’t want them making a mistake. Dating Athena was a mistake. Even if by some miracle, Orion was wrong about Athena and she did actually care for Winston, Athena was too into her duty. Orion was sure that his parents would settle for no less than building a hunter family of their own. They wouldn’t support someone like Winston, not when people like Adam existed. And Athena wouldn’t disobey their parents. It was a doomed relationship from the start. Orion just needed to remind himself that that wasn’t his business to get in between. Right? This was too complicated. Rio detoured for a minute. “I can’t tell Ricky! Not when-” Right, Winston probably knew what Ricky was. But Winston didn’t know that Rio thought he knew too. And Ricky didn’t know that Rio knew. This was too complicated. How did he explain that Rio’s specialty was supposedly killing shapeshifters just like Ricky? That if the situation were flipped, Rio couldn’t trust any hunter. Not after the evils he had seen. “He’ll think I’m a monster.” Maybe he was a monster. Whether or not he had killed anyone, he knew people that had been killed. Had watched it. And had never been able to stop any of them. He sighed a breath of relief. The last thing he needed was Athena to show up, so at least that part was cleared up. “Thank you. And I understand. You have to figure things out for yourself.” He knew about Fae. He wondered if that was information that Athena had passed along to him? She held a special disdain for Fae, and had already yelled at Rio multiple times for making promises. “Huh? Oh it’s probably not a big deal. I’m sure she’s grown out of it. It’s just…” He paused, trying to find the right way to phrase it. “Back in high school, she had some uh… well she liked to mess with people. Me, obviously but that’s more sibling stuff. Her main target was this girl in our class, the valedictorian. I didn’t talk to her much in high school, but Athena loved making her life miserable. I ran into Blanche and drove her home one night a couple months ago and she told me about it.” So much for not getting involved.

“What exactly do you think Ricky is?” Winston asked curiously, they weren’t interested in playing the game of cloak and daggers that being supernaturally inclined sometimes required you to play. “Ricky isn’t the type to judge someone because of what they are or who they are, they judge people for their actions. That’s always how they have treated me and you’ve given no one any reason to think you’re a monster. Have you ever actually hurt anything? I had to kill some vampires last month, I am probably more of a monster then you are…” not to mention the whole part of being a spellcaster that Winston was kind of holding out on Orion with… they swallowed another mouthful of cookie. Somehow they didn’t taste quite as good now that they were starting to find out more about Athena. But the next words that Rio would say would send fury and anger through Winston. Blanche had become a very close and important friend, confident and honestly so much more. Nell and Blanche and Winston had all come together and were supporting each other through this. Blanche had mentioned high school, they had mentioned the video and suddenly Winston found themselves shaking with fury. They set their cookie down which had been jiggiling about as their hand shook. “Athena was the one who made Blanche’s life hell?” Winston had clearly misjudged her, they had clearly not known better. Part of them wondered if they had been naive and innocent but another part of them wondered if maybe Athena had changed. “Thank you for telling me Rio, like, I know you don’t want to fuck with your sisters life and relationships but I didn’t know any of this, I honestly just met Athena and I didn’t know that she was like … well this.” 

“I- I don’t know exactly. I don’t care what he is.” Orion sighed. He wasn’t lying. Despite what the Quinn family groupmind always tried to tell him, Rio thought of most supernatural creatures as still human in a lot of cases. Vampires and werewolves were human. Just because they died or because they could change into werewolves didn’t change that. Sure, Selkie’s were a little different. Just like Fae, their true form wasn’t human. But they still had thoughts and feelings and people they cared for. Sure, Rio was pretty sure he knew what Ricky was, but at the end of the day it really didn’t matter. “I just-” Winston had killed a vampire? Rio had to wonder what kind of vampire. Had Athena been there? Had she encouraged him to do it? The mere thought made Rio’s stomach turn. “I’ve been there. When something has gotten hurt. And I wasn’t able to help and I-” He stopped himself before he went too deep. If he didn’t, Winston would be trying to stop him from sobbing uncontrollably on the floor. The last thing he wanted right now was a panic attack. “You’re not a monster. Whatever happened- I’m sure you had a reason. You’re like the nicest person I’ve ever met.” Orion answered honestly. Maybe this honesty thing wasn’t so bad. But if that was the case, why were his arms still tingling? “She wasn’t the only one. I mean… Blanche had it rough in high school. A lot of people were mean to her until she started fighting back.” He could feel the shift in the room. As Winston flipped to anger. That was the emotion that people should feel for Athena. But it still felt wrong, being involved. “I’m sorry. It’s- well it's honestly not my business what either of you do. And I shouldn’t get involved in that.”

“Maybe you should care what he is,” Winston replied with a shrug, “and I don’t mean in a bad way, but Ricky is proud of himself and of his heritage and he’d probably like to share that with someone who is going to stay with us, at least for a little bit. You two should talk.” Winston wasn’t going to push the matter too much more, but they weren’t going to let Orion just leave this alone either. Ricky was a selkie and Orion was a hunter and that needed to be cleared before things could really get normal. Plus, Winston didn’t tell Ricky about Orion’s … heritage and they would like for Ricky to not find out about that later because it might reflect badly on both of them. They paused and glanced at their shoes. “Dude I could say the exact same thing about you, you’re like being really hard on yourself. You didn’t choose this, you didn’t choose your family or your siblings. You can only do what you think is right and you can only act in a way that you think is appropriate.” They tried not to think about it. Winston was the oldest of a lot of the people in college that they had met through the supernatural and they hadn’t had it easy in high school, but at least Nell had had their back. They just wished that there had been someone there for their friend. “I wish I had known about this before I …” they didn’t say have sex with Athena but they wished that all the same. This was messy and suddenly they felt the need to apologise to their best friend, even though they hadn’t really done anything wrong. “Anyway, look, you’re still safe to stay, you should definitely talk to Ricky about … well you two should just talk and be honest. It’ll be better.” They paused for a moment. “Whilst we’re tearing off bandages, I know you already said something about paying rent, but you literally won’t be able to. Ricky owns the house and I spent my first few months living here trying to get him to take my money and you just can’t do it. So take my advice and buy him some really fucking expensive gifts at Christmas and his birthday and accept that your budget is going to go further then you thought.”

“Yeah. You’re right. Obviously.” At least Orion confirmed that he was right about Ricky. Or at least semi right. He still hadn’t confirmed the Selkie heritage, but the Ricky and Skylar connection was another big connecting dot. Of course Winston was right, it was just… hard to figure out how he was going to do it. How did you tell a friend that your parents actively wanted them dead? “I’ll figure it out. How to talk about it. I just… don't know how I’m going to do it yet. I don’t really have a great track record with this stuff.” Winston knew about Skylar too right? Probably better to not mention it just in case. Keeping track of this stuff was too much, he needed a white board or something. “Maybe, yeah. But it’s whatever. I’m here now. And I want to help people. That’s my goal.” He shuffled over to the couch again, suddenly realizing that he had been awkwardly standing the entire conversation. His mouth still felt dry, but he ignored it. “Right. Well, thanks again. For being so welcoming and all.” Of course Ricky wasn’t going to let them pay rent. He was so annoyingly nice. Rio could still find ways to help around the house though, right? Buy groceries, maybe help with utilities? He knew Ricky didn’t mind the cold, he wondered how much he could get away with turning the place down temperature wise. The long sleeves and pants kept Rio pretty warm. Plus the electricity bill in this place must be out the roof with how much technology all three of them seemed to use. “He’s so annoying. But fine. I can find other ways to help out I guess. Maybe. Once I figure out what I can do to help.”

“Weird, I don’t think anyone ever says that I’m right, you’re going to have to stay with us for a very long time because I like being told that I’m right and you’re literally the only person that does it.” Winston smirked gently and finished their cookie. “Just be yourself, be honest and try and be patient, this is not going to be easy for either of you and you know if you want me there even as moral support, I’m here for you both.” Winston smiled, they liked Orion’s goal. “Well, you’ve come to the right place, we’re all about helping people who need help, that’s why we asked you to come here, plus we genuinely think you’re gonna be a great roomie, that wasn’t a lie.” Winston watched Orion take a seat and pushed some snacks towards them. “You don’t need to say thanks my dude, we’re your friends and this is exactly what friends are for. But yes, Ricky is the most annoying dude ever. All I want to do is try and pay my way in this world, I don’t want to owe anyone and I don’t want to deal with someone else paying for me to just exist, but he literally won’t take money off of you, if he does he’ll just use it to buy you groceries or put gas in your tank or he’ll put the money in his bank account and transfer it back to yours. It’s beyond frustrating.”

“I find that hard to believe. Because you’re the coolest” Orion shrugged, stating it matter-of-factly. Winston was the coolest, and had helped Rio on multiple occasions now. They were exactly the type of person that Rio wanted to help with the Scribes. But more so, they were the type of person that Rio wanted to be friends with. “I thought you were just taking pity on me for calling you frantically in the middle of the night?” Rio asked, laughing and reaching for the pile of snacks. Despite the stress, he was starting to feel a bit more relaxed. It did make Rio feel a bit better, knowing that they had talked about it. That the offer hadn’t just been a one time offer at the Scribe Headquarters that they felt too awkward to take back. “Well that’s… very nice of him I guess. But also, the worst.” Rio had no idea how much money Ricky had, but it didn’t really matter much, he should still accept some money. Rio sighed, stuffing a handful of chips into his mouth, “Okay. Let’s fire up a game and try to think about something a bit more positive.”

“Again, very weird because no one else thinks that, are you sure you didn’t hit your head or something?” Winston winked playfully and smiled at their friend despite everything. “I mean, I guess we kind of took pity on you,” Winston laughed and shook their head, “Nah I’m joking, it wasn’t anything like that, we saw someone who was in need and we’re in a position to help with that and so we wanted to, you’re a nice guy and we like you around.  It all just works really well.” Winston considered the situation that Ricky put them in, whilst it was comfortable it made Winston feel as if they were taking a lot from their friend sometimes. Swallowing they shrugged in agreement. “You’re preaching to the choir bro, I hate it, I want to help out with the bills around here and feel like an adult, like I’m not complaining about my rent free existence, but at the same time I wish that I was actually pulling my weight. But yeah, you’re right, we should definitely try and enjoy ourselves.” At least before Winston had to get in contact with Athena directly to discuss this. 

[unholyhelbig]

Prompt: the first time Chloe transforms in front of Beca

CHECK OUT THE REST OF THE SERIES | READ IT ON MY AO3

[A/N: Okay, so It’s been about a year since I started this series and I’ve avoided this prompt like the plague. But hopefully, I did it justice. Let me know what you think!]

The busted pipe nailed to the far-right wall dripped rhythmically. Beca could count three even seconds between drops and decided right then and there to focus on that instead. The basement was stereotypical. But she hadn’t been in one for years- not since spending the summer in Baltimore with her aunt. The one who kept cats who made it a den of their own. All the good movies were housed there, and she used to hold her breath to whip down the stairs and grab blindly at them, settling for Snakes on a Plane.

This basement was different: it was colder, ice collecting against the top of the window peaking onto the quaint suburban street. The ceiling was slanted and sported with an old poster of a circus clown, old and yellowed. An original from when the show went on- Beca decided. There were two bikes resting under the steps, an old ten-gallon fish tank that still showed a waterline, and a train table covered in a large sheet the size of two king beds pushed together.

Another room broke away from the main set up. Walls that were put in later like the basement was going to be renovated, but it never was. Instead, it housed an old sink with a pipe solidified into concrete. That was what dripped. What created an icy puddle on the floor. So yes, Beca decided to focus on that over the musty smell and the swaying cord of one lone bulb.

“It’s not exactly homey.” She finally managed out, wrapping her sweater closer around her.

Chloe glanced back at her before squatting along the back edge of the basement. She unzipped the duffle bag that she hauled so easily down here. She started to rifle through them as she spoke. “Sixteen-year-old me didn’t have much of a choice. I was lucky enough to find Tom, I didn’t exactly expect five-star treatment.”

She said it lightly as Beca drew in a soft breath. She watched Chloe work. Watched her so meticulously remove metal chains from the sack. She clipped them to iron melted into the floor. There were cuffs at the end of each one. She pulled out a small velvet bag before sitting back on her heels.

“You don’t have to watch this, you know? There’s a football game at the high school tonight- and I know that’s not really your thing. But Tommy is there and-“Chloe glared down at the bag.

Beca knelt in front of Chloe, her hands resting on her knees and her eyes kind as she placed her cold fingers under her girlfriend’s chin. Lifting a sullen gaze to hers. “Hey, we’ve talked about this. It’s going to be fine.” Beca put her hand over the velvet bag. She could feel the coolness of the glass under her touch.

She had first brought it up over dinner two months ago. The fact that Chloe was holding something back from her- holding a lot of things back but Beca took it as a grain of salt. This though, the transformation, was something bigger than the both of them combined. Beca wanted nothing more than to be close to her. To be with her when she was most vulnerable for comfort if anything.

“Okay,” Chloe whispered, forcing the bag into her hands. “I want you to use this.”

“Chlo-“

“No, Beca, listen to me…. I don’t know how my wolf will react to you being here. Before you were in danger and it acted to protect someone, it knew I care for. But now? I could do more damage than good.”

Beca swallowed the sour taste in her mouth but nodded and leaned back against the nearest wall. She watched carefully as Chloe started with the shackles around her arms. One on each wrist, heavy enough to break bones. One strapped around her waist. Then her neck. She looked at her girlfriend expectantly. Eyes flicking to the velvet case.

“I’m not comfortable with drugging you.” Beca let out in a jumbled mess before she moved the drawstring. One medium sized needle with a vile of sedative strong enough to put down a gorilla. The same type she had found in Aubrey’s apartment that day. She buried those questions too. “I don’t even know where you got this stuff. Should I right worry about that too?”

“No,” Chloe scoffed out in a laugh. “I know a guy.”

Chloe was sweating now. A thin layer coating every inch of her body. It reminded Beca of the flu, maybe. So earth-shatteringly cold, yet wet enough to dampen her hair and stain her shirt collar. Beca knew it would happen soon, and Chloe knew even better than her. She shifted her stance and leaned against the cement wall- her knees square in front of her, arm facing outward as she looked up expectantly.

Beca pressed the tip of the needle into the smooth late covering, it broke through easily enough. Beca had only administered a shot once in her life, and that wasn’t of her own volition. Her friend in middle school had type one diabetes. They were paired as partners on a school trip to the zoo when her sugars fluctuated and Beca scrambled for the only needle of insulin in the girl’s bag. She swallowed back that memory before filling the syringe to the middle line.

“Beca,” Chloe’s voice was sullen, a few octaves deeper than what it had been before. Then what it had ever been. Her eyes were golden, sprouting from the inside out until the rich color had overtaken the blue completely. Her fingers dug into the cement.

“Okay, yeah. Yes.”

She leaned forward and steadied her fingers under Chloe’s arm. She wanted to close her eyes. She wanted to look away like she did when she got her flu shot. Instead, she slid the needle in with a fluid motion and let the sedative drain away. Chloe seemed to relax, her eyes shining like stars.

“They’re pretty.”

“Hmm?” it came out as more of a growl. Chloe was shaking.

“Your eyes. They’re not blue.”

Chloe swallowed shakily and leaned her head against the wall. “They’re only yellow during my transition. They always have been… I think it was because I was so young when I was-“

She scrunched up her face and wrapped her fingers around her ribs like it a stomachache was pulling at her conscience. She let out another growl- this time deeper, but not meaner. Chloe was holding her breath. She had effectively sweat through her clothes until they clung to her body in a dark mess.

“Sorry, I-“Chloe gulped down some cool air. “I was young when I was turned, and the woman who did it… she said sometimes that effects the color of our eyes.”

Beca nodded and Chloe clenched her eyes shut, placing her head against the cool cement wall. She was breathing heavier. Each breath came with a light snarl until she was pulling effectively at her chains. The young brunette distanced herself, leaning against the edge of the doorway as she watched. She didn’t know how to comfort her.

Chloe let out something of a scream before she folded over into herself. She was panting, eyes lifting in that brilliant royal color once more. Her bottom canines were pointed, top ones dripping to match. “Last… chance to back out… Beca.”

She was miffed. Maybe at how deep her girlfriend’s voice was, or the fact that she looked to be in so much physical pain. Her features were morphing, her stature shifting to more of an animal than a girl on spring break from college. Nails pointed- jaw dripping.

“I’m not leaving you.” Beca finally managed out, trying to shift her own expression into something other than shock. “Forget it.”

She let out another groan of pain before Beca watched it happen. Her own breath had picked up, matching that of the girl, the wolf, in front of her. It was quick- the last part of it was, as the moon rose up in a velvet colored sky. It’s light seeping through the small sliver of a window that the basement allowed.

Chloe was still Chloe.

That’s what Beca reminded herself as she pushed her back further into the wall. This was the girl that taped flashcards slathered in French words onto every item in the house before Beca’s final. The girl who would bring her lunch when she was having a terrible no good day. The girl who carried her to the infirmary when she twisted her ankle- and the wolf that mauled another in front of a radio station.

Her Chloe.

Yet, there was a wolf in front of her: A large animal that stared at her once more with icy blue eyes. It’s fur was the russet color of blood and it’s paws were large enough to match the floppy ears that sprouted from the top of its head. The wolf was massive, and everything was suddenly so quiet.

It let out a small whimper before sitting down across from Beca. The chains suddenly seemed unnecessary, but she wasn’t sure what would happen without the sedative or the extra reinforcements. It was eyeing her, assessing her. This is Chloe. She reminded herself.

“H-Hi,” She managed out, voice soft. “You’re uh, you’re pretty big. Huh?”

The wolf let out a huff.

“Right, right, sorry.” Beca lifted her hands up in surrender. “I don’t really know what to do here.”

The wolf lifted its russet chin and edged a little closer out of caution. Testing the waters before it sat right in front of Beca. She could feel the excessive body heat, see the familiarity in its stare. She lifted an eyebrow in confusion.

The large beast suddenly plopped down, it’s head resting on her lap, body spread out the rest of the way across the small corner of the basement. It let out a long and tired sigh. “oh… Okay” Beca managed, setting her one hand next to her while the other started to stroke small circles against the wolfs head.

“I never got to formally thank you,” Beca whispered. “For saving my life, you know?”

The animal whimpered, and Beca took that as enough of an acknowledgment. She listed to the way the wolf breathed, before finally drifting to sleep.  

[sonicranticoot]

About CTR, Money, and Both Together

Yeah I know I took a break. Regular types of posts to resume shortly. I haven’t actually ranted in a very long time (”Why does he have rant in his name, and never actually rants?”) but today’s...uh, news about CTR is such a hot topic in the Crash community I want to talk about it.

That being yeah. Microtransactions. How quaint. It’s 2019 and Crash Bandicoot has microtransactions. Absolutely beautiful. Mostly being that, a lot of you already know this but I’m making it even more blatantly clear. They’re not ok, but it goes a bit deeper than “not ok.”

One of my main reasons for being annoyed with them is that simply put, they hurt my trust in the game. Pre-launch, it was confirmed in several interviews there would be no in-game purchases or any of the sort and all content would be available in the game itself. Now it’s always possible Beenox really did mean they didn’t want to put them in and never did and they were forced upon by Activision. Although wouldn’t be the first time it has happened in the industry (as one example, Square Enix similarly forced them into Deus Ex: Mankind Divided at the last minute). publishers being willing to blatantly break promises made by the developers still paints a pretty bad message. Regardless of how it happened, it gives me reason to put less trust into Beenox.

It’s also a bit of a skewed priority here in my opinion that microtransactions are more or less taking priority in development. Of course we don’t know everything about what will be done in the patch that adds the content from the new Grand Prix but no patch notes like the last GP is kind of concerning. There are a lot of things aside from the Wumpa Coin system that are serious issues with the game, like no host migration making it very hard to actually find games at times, long wait times between online matches, invisible items, invisible walls, lack of online options, etc.

I mention online because online is obviously a part of the game Beenox and Activision are encouraging people to play a lot - not just with coins but also the increased Nitro payouts and the incentive of the championship leaderboard that gets you a kart/decal (the latter even for who got the kart in an earlier GP, giving them incentive to make the top 5% again). But simply put, it’s barebones, has difficulty functioning well, and the fact the game uses peer-to-peer instead of its own servers is a whole ‘nother kettle of fish.

I mentioned coins before, and I know I’m not alone in expressing this fear, but with the already mangled coin handling last GP’s patch (honestly exaggerated, it’s better in some places, worse in others, it has actually encouraged me to vote for different tracks online than pre-patch but that’s just me), and the inclusion of microtransactions and them being explicitly said to help fast track coin collection, there’s...reason to believe that coin payouts are going to suck more than ever. Or they might jack up the prices to get people to grind even more, sucking out lives of people with limited time to play the game, or take the “easy way out” and get them to buy coins. Of course you also have to take into consideration that CTR is a kid friendly game that has this stuff. FIFA, rated E for Everyone, in recent years has cost parents literal thousands of dollars out of their bank accounts. Now I am unsure if CTR would ever get that bad since to my understanding FIFA has gambling and lootboxes which CTR currently lacks, but the real fear of a kid not versed in money spending too much on coins is a real thing. Or, people just wanting to catch up real quick, and with no self control, plunging into buy out the store.

Then there’s how the store actually works at the moment with its daily deals stuff that can, to a new player, actually make their cash-earned coins into either a test of luck by buying repeatedly, or just waiting forever. There’s a million ways that microtransactions can ruin people’s experiences with a game I don’t know where to begin.

I’ve heard all the excuses. “It’s all cosmetics.” “It’s optional.” “People need to watch their money.” “It funds the rest of the game!” Well some people would say, those are all pretty valid reasons at first glance, I refute:

Yes. They are cosmetics. That’s always how it starts. What if that’s a skin everyone loves? What if you’re the one person who doesn’t have it? What if that becomes a problem?

Yes. It is optional. Honestly I do think it’s the best argument, because you can do what I intend on doing: not buying into them. Sometimes, though, it’s not that simple; sometimes things feel so excessive they begin to not feel optional.

Sometimes, simply put, it’s not that simple. Today it’s easier than ever for a kid to randomly jack daddy’s credit card. Some people have genuine problems with money and have no control over how they spend it. It’s not that easy for some people. Maybe it is for you. It is for me. But it isn’t for everyone.

You know what else funds development? Game sales. You already paid $40 up front (or $60 if you wanted Robot Crunch that bad, I didn’t) and I don’t think you should be expected to pay more just to ease out of a slog that, depending on purchase date, can take months. Activision (or EA or Ubisoft or 2K or Square Enix or Warner Bros.) isn’t exactly light on money anyway.

Back to the grind for a little bit. Yes. Coin rates for offline players suck. Online sometimes gives you good coins and only does so when it wants to work in the first place. I, however, have a different take on the grind. The grind only becomes a grind if you make it into a grind. If you’re having fun playing the game, honestly? That’s what any good game does, it makes you play the game because you like playing the game. A lot of games have things that take forever to do, but are praised in spite of that because of things like strong game mechanics. CTR has amassed a dedicated community in spite of its well-documented issues because, simply put, this game is great. I’ve put god knows how many hours into it, admittedly sometimes as an active grind (I hate those battle mode challenges for the Grand Prix), but much of the time, it’s because I love playing a great racing game in my favorite gaming series.

Of course, that’s just me. Not everyone thinks a game is just a game, and sometimes the game itself these days gives off that message. Games you buy from a brick and mortar store operated completely differently before mobile phone games got big. Once those did, and devs started putting things into them, it just hasn’t been the same for a lot of people. Today, you have to log in to an account to play Doom, a game released 26 years ago, not on phones but after you pay for it with your own money on consoles current as of 2019. Mobile games and free to play games always operated differently from console games because that’s their whole thing, they generally aren’t console experiences and vice versa.

In summary:

If you love CTR, keep playing it, because without microtransactions, you have a game with a lot of good content and amazing gameplay.

However, actual issues with the game should be prioritized over trying to nickel and dime people, and with any game - not just this one - this message NEEDS to be loud and clear.

It is important for developers and publishers to see on the same terms, so they same message is given to consumers.

You don’t fucking put mobile game mechanics into video games that existed 10 years before Angry Birds and expect people to not talk about them.

Monetization is bad in so many ways it can hurt people and imply things about everything about the game in all kinds of ways. No ifs or buts about it.

Have a good night.

[insomniac-dot-ink]

Whales Aren’t Real, Ch2

Genre: sci-fi, wlw, series

Words: 5.5k

Summary: An Earth Restitution Team goes diving into the ocean to look for what remains of ocean life

The young RT member finds one of the few humans who adapted to the destruction of the planet, she asks her if whales are real or not.

Lesbian soft-apocalyptica.

Support the work:

Ko-Fi ⭐Patreon ⭐ WordPress  

Chapters: One, Two (REWRITE!)

tw: for freaky fish and danger

Chapter Two: The Depths

“Do you think she eats kelp?” Remy kicks her feet back and forth, barely scuffing the floor each time as she swings them.

Kel glances at her flatly, “I don’t know.” He looks ready to put his head on the table and fall into a coma.

They sit in a large dark room surrounded by windows the size of trees to their left and plain plastic grey walls on the other side. The sky is black and almost starless beside them. “I mean, not kelp-kelp, but something like that, algae? There’s a lot of algae,” she holds five cards loosely in her hand and says.

“There is a lot of algae,” A distant, watery voice repeats, as if confirming some universal truth. The doctor reshuffles her cards as she stares off into nothing. “So much.”

Dr. Agatha was a petite woman with soft grey curls and deep wrinkles forming delicately around her mouth and eyes. She wore floral patterns that looked better suited to curtains and always had the air of someone lost at the grocery store.

She is their head scientist presently.

“Do you think she found her clothes at like, a Deadciv, can nylon last that long? It looked like nylon,” Remy says with a curious look on her face, “can you sew nylon?” Shang gives a disgruntled sigh and turns to her, “are you going to fold or not Remy?” Remy drags her eyes back to her cards, “oh, uh, nah, three chips in.” The table eyes each other apprehensively, “three?” She nods quickly, “you can all fold of course. I’m happy to just take home the pot now.” Shang rolls her eyes, “okay, she’s definitely bluffing.” Shang pushes his chips forward, “all in.” He gives her a victorious grin, as if it was already over.

Shang was a tall boy with jet-black hair and a mouth that quirked upward lightly whenever he spoke, he was technically the youngest crew here, but he didn’t show it. His clothes were always a sharp black and his eyes followed people’s faces like he was memorizing indiscernible mountains there.

Remy pushes the rest of her chips in too, “Do you think I could ask her about her shiny scale-freckles, is that rude?”

“Remy, I swear,” Shang looks like he might pop a vein.

Kel gives a smooth weary smile, “why don’t you go talk to her?” Remy shrugs, “it doesn’t exactly help that I’m still on probation.” Dr. Agatha chuckles, “your lab work is very helpful though.” “If only it wasn’t so boring,” she mumbles at the ceiling, “do you think she would ever talk me again?” “Can we stop talking about your fish-fiance? We aren’t even supposed to chit-chat with them,” Shang sits up straight and pushes his cards forward, “and I’m calling.” Remy sticks her tongue out at him, “fish-friend, better than a commander-crush.” “Shut up,” Shang almost growls.

“Anybody with a rank and suddenly it’s kiss-kiss, what can I get you?” She teases lightly, Shang turns away. “Five in a row crunchers!” Shang threw his hand down for the table for all to see. “A straight!” Kel frowns deeply and shows his three cards, “three fives.” “Boo,” Remy says as she bounces in her chair, she places her cards down, “four of a kind honey!” She whoops and threw her four tens down with a smack.

Shang pulls at his hair, “oh come on.” “Can’t take down the master,” Remy winks and starts doing her victory dance.

Dr. Agatha looks between all of them, a mystified look reflected in her round owl-eyes, she places her cards down one by one. Remy freezes mid booty-shake.

“Ah,” she whines.

Dr. Agatha nods, “deuces I think.” Remy hangs her head, “ah, come on.” She huffs and sits back down, “you were barely playing.” Remy pouts over her shoulder and Kel chuckles.

“I guess that’s a win,” the doctor pulls the chips towards herself and looks like she accidently walked into a studio and won a free car she didn’t know how to drive.

Kel starts collecting the cards again, “next round?” They all nod hesitantly, it was getting late, but their ‘Poker Crew’ was founded on the fact none of them were great sleepers.

Kel turns to Dr. Agatha, “though,” he hums deeply for a moment and pauses to study her, “you seem a little distracted doctor, anything wrong Aggie?” Remy cocks her head to the side curiously, she hadn’t actually noticed anything different about the doctor’s normal bird-trapped-in-a-warehouse behavior.

Dr. Agatha looks up and purses her lips, a dent forming in her brow.

“Well, first that nickname is definitely wrong,” she says astutely and adjusts her glasses, the table laughs softly and Dr. Agatha drums her fingers on the table. “But… well, it’s nothing much.” Shang puts his palms on the table forcefully, “what is it? I remember you didn’t even freak out when the lab was on fire last week.” “Oh, that was nothing.” Remy and Shang share a look.

Remy clears her throat, “is it the water filtration system? Jennison has been bugging the mechanics about it all month.” Dr. Agatha shakes her head, “no, I fixed that problem, any mico-toxins will now be thoroughly removed.” Shang blinks slowly, “were we drinking micro-toxins before?” “Don’t think about it too hard,” Remy mutters back.

Kel focuses on Dr. Agatha completely, his sunken eyes almost knife-sharp.

“What is it?” Kel asks slowly, “is it for the projects?”

Shang gulps, “is it the Planetsiders? I knew we needed to keep better track of their movements, I saw those blinking dots come close to The Observatory.” “It’s not that,” Dr. Agatha says loosely and Remy tries to catch her eye, try to discern something. Dr. Agatha frowns, “I’m missing vials of plant samples.” “Oh,” the whole table exhales and slumps down a little bit. Remy reaches for her cards. “Maybe check the last place you saw them?” She offers weakly. Dr. Agatha shakes her head, “they are The Shallows, near sector five. The trekker forgot to bring them back.” “Oh?” She had Remy’s interest again.

“Was it Steve?” Shang asks quickly, “it’s always freaking Steve.” “Hush,” Remy puts a hand in his face and Shang tries to snap at it.

“I don’t know,” Dr. Agatha says slowly, “they said there was some water bug anomaly I should see. I thought it would be quite interesting.” “Right, water bugs,” Remy sighs and looks at her two cards. A two and a four, nothing good. “Hit me.” She reaches for another card.

Kel was still watching quietly, “and then what?” He asks in a soft voice and Remy raises her eyebrows. Kel was always the observant one. There was something else.

Dr. Agatha takes a long second to respond.

She doesn’t so much as look up, but instead find the red angry scar marks on her hands very interesting. She plucks at the burn tissue and speaks into them, “when I mentioned it to Coronel Jennison… he said there was no reason to go fetch them.”

Kel’s eyes go a little wider and Remy senses Shang tense beside her, lowering his cards so he can look between them all. A stressed hush covers the table.

“What?” Remy finally asks and they all seem to be focused elsewhere, lost in their own thoughts. “Why should it matter if Jennison doesn’t want some vials back?” Dr. Agatha rearranges the cards in her hand again, “the Council… isn’t very happy with our results right now.” “Oh,” Remy blinks. “Oh, right.” Her stomach drops a little bit and she looks back at her cards, “Right. I fold.” She puts them back down.

Shang makes a face, “Already?” She just nods, “I better make this my last game.”  She snaps her fingers, trying to get the attention of the large lump snoozing in the corner near the dark windows. “Come here Delaware,” she calls softly, “let’s get back to my room before the Chiv’s spot you.” Delaware turns over, his large paws sticking up in the air before he pulls himself up and comes trotting over on his big Basset Hound feet, waiting patiently for Remy to rub his ears.

“You’re… turning in early?” Shang comments with a slight annoyed twitch to his eyebrow.

Remy stands up straight and turns to her compatriots, “yep,” she gives a little salute, “I’ll need all the sleep I can get if I’m going to get up early to go get Dr. Agatha’s samples tomorrow.” “Uh,” Shang squinted his eyes at her, “aren’t you on probation?” “Just from official missions!” She sings and Kel shakes his head at her.

“Remy,” he says in a warning tone.

“Don’t worry,” she turns before they can try and talk her out of it, “I’ll take the ship out and be back before Jennison can even get his slippers on.” She waves, “cadets get visiting passes to topside,” she shrugs, “I’ll just use mine now.” They all are still eyeing her, but Dr. Agatha hums deeply, “if you have time, I could use some more gray algae samples as well.” “Can do!” She started to run off with her dog at her heels, Kel is mumbling something about not being paid enough to watch kids and something about reckless abandon.

But at least she knew none of them would turn her in. She gets ready to sneak out in the morning.

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

Remy rubs the crusty gook of sleep out of her eyes and yawns widely, her limbs are rocks attached to her body and her eyelids tug back down. Five hours was not enough. But the train would have to leave the station whether she was well-rested or not. She wipes blurrily at her eyes again and teeters down the second bay corridor.

She turns the corner and her mood instantly drops as she sees a figure standing in front of the bathrooms, Remy internally groans.

“Tara,” she says bitterly and tries to shuffle forward with a nod, “morning.”

Tara was the other cadet on the mission, a certified pilot and trekker that made most everything her business. She was at least a head taller than Remy and had fluffy orange hair that tied back in a ponytail at her back.

Her expression is a remote mask that reminds Remy more of a cold stone wall that actively tried to crash into visitors. Tara doesn’t exactly look at her as she approaches.

Remy tries to slip past the stalk-still girl and make her way into the lavatory, unfortunately for her, Tara had other plans. The other cadet steps in her way.

“Yes,” she says in her flat tone, a smarmy smile filling her face, “morning to you too.”

Remy’s shoulders fall, “isn’t it a little early for you to be Medusa-ing the bathroom?” She makes a face, “some of us need to pee.” Tara shakes her head, “waking up at dawn for once are we?” Tara says slowly and her gaze seems to smack Remy in the face as she examines her.

Remy just nods stiffly, “out for a morning stroll.” She says cautiously and Tara rolls her eyes.

“You can’t just… go on a trekking mission by yourself,” Tara says hotly and crosses her arms over her chest, “it’s ridiculous.” “Were you spying on the monitors again?” Remy puts her hands on her hips, “So uncool.” Tara wags a finger in the air, “it’s against regulation to open the hanger without permission.” Remy scrunches her face up, “I do have hanger permission,” she tries to side step her, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to piss- which I also have regulation permission for.” Tara was being extra difficult this morning and thrusts her arm out to block Remy’s path, “it’s not like it matters you know.” Remy sniffs loudly, “Dr. Agatha needs the samples.” Tara’s eyes go cool and remote, “you really stuff that much cotton in your ears? It. Won’t. Matter. The Council has already made up their mind.” Remy clenches her fists and finally ducks under Tara’s arm, managing to open the lavatory door and turn toward her, “stuff it Tara. Some of us are going to actually do our jobs.” “I’m telling Jennison about this!” She sings loudly and Remy ignores her.

“You do that.”

Remy’s blood was boiling by the time she furiously started to brush her teeth, the poor enamel probably scrubbed clean off as she rapidly got ready for the day. “Doesn’t matter,” she mutters and gargles some water, “already over.” She angrily spit and imagines Tara’s face when she finally meets the whales. That would shut her up, hopefully sooner rather than later.

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

Remy gives Kel the thumbs up as he enters the hanger control room, he normally wouldn’t go to all this trouble- he liked his sleep and also liked to be in the Observatory’s good graces. Remy has a feeling he’s getting ancy too though.

She bounces around the hanger, picking between different models: the sleek 144-J with it’s speed and agility, the military grade bomber I-22 with it’s fierce density, or even the long-haul ship, Hv-88. The ship for napping in when you didn’t want to be found.

Eventually she just settles on the faithful Wb-77 as Kel bangs on the glass to tell her to hurry up. She jumps into the cockpit and gives him another wild grin as she secures her helmet.

He just presses the gate button and they both watch the thick doors below glide open with an impressive gust of air. Remy holds her breath, she always held her breath at those moments- the moment between falling and flying.

The engine hums and Remy’s fingers dance over the controls, Kel yells something nonsensical at her and she just waves. The horizon calls her as she guns her thrusters into the pale blue skies and takes off.

She whoops into the rising sun, there was nothing else like this.

Remy is still grinning throughout her twenty minute flight to The Shallows, it was a very pleasant day after all and most of the Observatory wasn’t even awake yet. The weather remains a lovely blue when she arrives at the the sandy banks of sandbars.

The samples had luckily been left in a secure box floating next to one of the many metal poles that stuck out.

Remy collects it quickly and surveys the surrounding area, it was as empty as a blank page, not even a Planetsider ship for miles. And for once that was a bad thing.

Remy takes a deep breath, she knew what she needed to do.

She streaks off across the deeper ocean, scanning and raking the waters with her eyes for any signs. The best sign would be a giant shadow underneath the waves, but she would take anything at this point.

Remy’s nerves are almost fried when she spots it, her entire body relaxing as she sees another living being- and just the one she wanted to see too.

She maneuvers a turn near the Deadciv building, gliding carefully around the area- right where she had met the girl before, Remy’s heart leaps. This had to be her sign.

She gently lands the plane a little ways from the ruins and covers herself in protective jelly from head to foot, she had brought her swimming gear just in case. It feels tingly and a little heavy as the adhesive drys.

Remy quickly finishes and makes her way over to the tops of the tall decaying buildings and starts waving furiously, it’s only a little disappointing when she sees no one there.

“Dang it,” she swivels around in all directions, looking left and right for any signs of life. She is cursing and splashing in the water when she turns and faces a sharp spear pointed in her face.

“Are you following me?” The girl, Callisto, had found her after all.

Remy’s eyes light up, “I knew I would find you again!”

Callisto’s lips curl back, “What do you want? I don’t need stalkers.” Remy frowns slowly, “not stalking! Just… finding. Again.” Callisto lowers her spear slowly, eyes still shifty and narrowed, “I was hoping you had a little more common sense than that.” Remy tries to give a winning smile, “me?” She chuckles, “never.” Callisto’s face seems to soften, “I haven’t seen your sea monster or anything if that’s what you’re looking for. I told you before, there isn’t anything here.” Remy snorts, she adjusts her helmet, “it’s a bit of a different venture this time.” She mutters, “are you hunting?” Callisto holds her long sapphire spear up, “yes. And you really aren’t helping.”

Remy swims a little closer to her, “I was actually hoping we’d meet again. Maybe we could help each other!”

Callisto makes a face at her, “I don’t need any… body gunk, or whatever it is you’re wearing.” “Protective jelly! It’s water based,” she sings happily, “and I was thinking of something a little more practical.” Callisto tilts her head to the side, she turns around, “one second.” Callisto starts swimming and climbs onto one of the Deadciv roofs so she can stand up, Remy follows after.

Remy struggles to her feet and realizes how much taller Callisto is then her, she shifts from foot to foot.

“I’m listening,” Callisto says slowly, “but I’ll have you know it’ll have to be good. I don’t go around making deals with Deserters often, it’s…. Dangerous. You must know that.” Remy hums at that and tucks that bit of information away, she grins, “yeah, but I don’t follow the rules, I make ‘em!”

“Okay?” “Yeah,” Remy itches her wrist nervously, “or uh, play with them. Just a little bit.” Callisto shakes her head, “and all to find some giant sea-beasts? There are easier ways to get eaten.” Remy lifts her chin, “whales eat krill! Isn’t that great? They don’t eat people, though I’m sure they could swallow you whole if you’re not careful.” “Alright?” Callisto was still looking at her like Remy was attempting to grow a second head. “Listen, little Deserter-” “You really can call me Remy.” Callisto gives a shallow smile, “You don’t want to meet most things down there, whether they eat ‘krill’ or not.” Remy perks up, eyes going wide, “have you seen living things down there then?”

Callisto rubs the back of her neck, “it’s not like it’s empty. But it’s not friendly either.” Remy dives to grab Callisto’s arm and shake it, “take me!” She begs, “I have my camera, my gear, it’s still only morning.” Callisto’s face screws up into a scowl, “why would I take a stranger to the most dangerous place in the ocean?” Remy sets her jaw, “I’ll trade you, like I said, we can help each other.” Callisto eyes her thoroughly for a moment, “what will you do with the creature?” “Just take a picture,” she snorts, “we don’t have to fight it or anything.” “We would lose anyway,” Callisto says off-handedly, “and these aren’t ‘whales’ though, none of them sing. They’re...” She shivers, “different.”

Remy gulps but lifts her head up, “I’m willing to take the risk, they don’t need to be whales, they just need to be… big,” she looks closely at Callisto, “I just need a guide.” Callisto meets her gaze, “what do you have to offer?” Remy taps her chin, “Money?” “No.”

“Seeds.” “Nope.”

“Tech.” “What kind?” “Water purifiers, air purifiers, hand-held blasters-” “We have those,” Callisto says in exasperation.

“Uh, fresh water?” “Don’t need it.” “Salt water?” She raises her eyebrows, “really don’t need it.” “Labor.” “No.” “Other, kinds of labor?” Remy tries to strike a sexy pose.

“Definitely not.” Callisto just shakes her head and looks ready to take off again, Remy puts her hands up. “Meat,” She says loudly, “dried fruit, medicine, proteins.” Callisto stops in place, her lips tugging down and her large dark eyes turning back to Remy, she looks her up and down, “what kind of medicine?” Remy exhales slowly, “any kind. Shots, penicillin, pain killers, uh,… band aids.” Callisto’s eyes shrink down, “can grunts get access to that sort of thing?” “I’m not a grunt,” she says defensively, “and yes. I have free reign of the medical bay. And I can also get,” she strikes a pose, “sneaky.” Callisto has an almost-smile, “well,” She says loudly, “I do need Xanim. It will be a clear liquid in a large vial, get me at least three.” Remy pumps her fist in the air, “alright!” She doesn’t mention the fact she doesn’t know where or what that is. She figures that’s a problem for her future self.

Callisto straightens her back, “right. I’ll meet you tomorrow at-” “Wait,” Remy focuses on her, “we need to do it today. Now.” Callisto looms over her, “you don’t have the medicine now.” “It’s a promise though,” Remy says quickly, “a huge promise, and you can take like, my shoe as hostage until I get it to you. We just…” She bites her bottom lip, “really need to do it today.” Something wasn’t smelling right at the Observatory, Remy knew she needed data, evidence, and she needed it now.

Callisto seems to consider her for a long, long second, her gaze curving over Remy’s small frame, her choppy brown hair and tight ponytail, the Jelly covering every inch of her body. Remy stiffens slightly.

Callisto lifts her chin up, pushing her long braided hair back, “I want the most expensive thing on your ship. You’ll get it back when you give me the Xanim.” “So you’ll take me?” Remy’s eyes sparkle. Callisto shifts in place, “I make no promises of finding anything.” Remy gives a wide, pleased smile, “no guarantees necessary, just take me to where you’ve seen them before,” she reaches for her camera, “I’ll do the rest.” Callisto shakes her head, “crazy Deserter madness.” Remy just laughs at that, Callisto looks over her shoulder, “you really want to go?” Remy nods enthusiastically, “as soon as possible.” She was technically running on a limited amount of time, Jennison would only tolerate an ‘unofficial mission’ for so long.

Callisto turns toward the dark waters, “follow my rules then. One, I lead. Stop when I stop, go when I go and don’t touch the buildings. Not all of them are sound. Two don’t make a sound, in and out. Three, don’t… flail around, if you see danger, stay still.” She blinks, “and Remy?” “Yeah?” “Don’t get eaten,” she says in her deep grey voice, “I’ll do the rest.” Remy shivers a little bit, if her mother could see her now, making deals with Planetsiders, she would never hear the end of it. Good thing her mom wasn’t there.

She doesn’t have a moment to collect herself as Callisto quickly dives into the dark with a small ripple. Remy jumps in after her with a much bigger splash, the world descends into a thick choppy bleakness.

Lost buildings stand on either side of them and pale streaks of light filter in the water all around them, Remy adjusts her helmet settings so the glass doesn’t steam up. The water is thick with clouds of dank water here and there, but still mixed with patches of clearness.

Remy can’t help but staring: crumbling dark buildings on all sides of her and a profound stillness. Most had large empty windows and concrete walls that were falling into themselves.

Tiny fish glimmer here and there, Remy is sure there must be bigger ones somewhere for Callisto to hunt, but there was nothing now.

She feels a tug on her leg and Remy remembers that she has someone to follow, she quickly turns on her shoulder light and Callisto points toward their feet. Remy turns herself around and starts swimming,

Down, down, down. They sink slowly, using the currents to swim toward the darkness below.

Callisto makes several corrections as they go, leading her first straight toward another tall building and then right and down again, Remy has no idea what this does.

It’s quiet and eery, it helped not being alone down here at least. She focuses on the back of Callisto’s head as the minutes tick by, memorizing the shape of her outline, the sleek limbs cutting effortlessly through the water and long floating hair.

Remy’s heavy air tank helped her sink into the depths, though she wandered how Callisto descended so easily, a swim bladder? Was she denser than other people? Force of will? These questions would have to wait.

The light starts to disappear as they swim against the currents, slowly dropping toward the ocean floor, Remy’s ears begin to pop and she hopes she thought this through enough.

Remy gulps as Callisto drops directly down into the complete darkness. The other girl looks over her shoulder to make sure she’s following and Remy hurries after her, she can just make out that the other girl’s irises then. They are the size of quarters, large and unearthly.

The pamphlets from her schools awareness program comes back to her: No longer human.

Remy pushes that thought away and tells herself to quiet down, she had things to do, she takes a deep inhale of oxygen and lets herself be consumed.

There is more rubble down here, piles of discarded concrete and jagged metal poles sticking up from nowhere, Remy dodges them and keeps her shoulder lamp pointed at Callisto’s back. They were still nowhere near the bottom it seemed.

Remy purses her lips as a thrum of unease goes through her system, she tries to remind herself why she is there: the project, the project, the project. You can’t find whales if there’s no project.

That doesn’t stop the hairs on the back of her neck from standing on end. Nothing is ahead but darkness and the glare of her own flashlight.

She’s staring off at a distant rubble pile when she runs headlong into the back of Callisto, bumping softly into her and being jostled backward for a second. She opens her mouth to ask what gives but then remembers she’s not supposed to make a sound.

Callisto turns to her slowly, eyes sharp and huge in the glare of her flashlight. She mouths something, her lips moving silently to form indiscernible words.

Remy puts her palms up and shrugs at her, she tries to mouth something back, such as ‘what?’ and ‘huh?’

And then she sees it. Something in the bleakness ahead, a sparkle of light just in front of them.

Remy’s eyes go wide, she reaches for her camera around her neck, Callisto dives over and grabs her, shaking her head violently, Remy struggles away. This is what she came for.

Callisto in turn tries to cover Remy’s shoulder lamp with her hands and the world descends into an absolute darkness- all except the oscillating sparkle of light in front of them. Remy’s eyes go wide and she can’t tell if she’s breathing anymore.

Callisto pushes them back, slowly, easily, but Remy knows, she knows something is over there- and she can’t go back now. She lunges forward faster than Callisto can catch her, Remy dodges left and wrenches her shoulder light away from Callisto’s outstretched hands.

The light blares ahead and Remy lifts her camera up as fast as she can, she doesn’t click. The sparkle is a light blue, forming a long electric ribbon in the inky darkness around it, Remy can make out that they are aligned against a long, sleek body, immense and shimmering.

Against her better judgement, Remy pauses to grin, something lived here, something lived! Ancient, bright, larger than a minnow, something colorful and powerful in her flies up from her center toward the sun. It lived. And then the creature turns.

Remy didn’t know about nightmares, she always was the kid that jumped off monkey bars and begged to be told ghost stories at midnight. Remy wasn’t sure what she was seeing now, something primal heaves in her.

It’s face was as big as she was, spiked and covered in flaking scales. It had two sightless white eyes placed against a blunt forehead and misshapen jaw, all leading to a mouth that took up everything else. Rows of teeth stuck up out of its bottom jaw, caught in the gleam of her single headlight.

Remy doesn’t have a moment to scream, the creature’s body lights up, glowing in the dark and tensing to lunge. Remy clicks her camera.

This would have been the moment she felt the teeth dig into soft, puny body and break it in two, the last thing she ever sees. Instead, she feels an arm loop around her chest and violently yank her back and behind a rubble pile.

“Ah!” Remy manages a yelp and tries to take another blurry picture as the thing bobs after them, turning quickly and letting off an electric glow.

Callisto makes some deep sound in her chest, rumbling and fearful. Her whole body clenches and then she’s propeling them off the rock pile, lifting them high into the waters and ‘up.’

Callisto reaches over to wrangle with Remy’s shoulder light and tear it off, but Remy slaps her hand away.

“One more picture!” She gasps, “they have to see how big it is.”

Callisto yells something back and rows of teeth come gasping toward their feet up from nothing, long jagged tendrils ready to rip them apart.

Remy reacts quicker, she yanks at the long spear in Callisto’s belt and jams it forward. The shark-electric creature crashes its nose into the pointy end and a burst of thick blood fills the water.

Remy manages to wrench the light off her shoulder then and drop it. They creature turns and follows the bright glare, it’s powerful tail whipping around to jerk it toward the moving target.

Remy exhales, nothing is left. They are left with a quiet darkness- Callisto holding her around the chest as they fled. The spear and light disappear below them like a dream.

Callisto rises like a hot air balloon (swim bladder?). Remy is light-headed and every part of her is heavy and tense, the adrenaline pumping freely in every vein she had.

She checks on her oxygen tank and then has a sense of utmost relief when she sees the inkling of light up above, she was clutching her camera in her hands. She had made it.

Remy is shaking from head to toe when they burst up into the midday light and gasp for air, Remy collapsing onto the rooftop and Callisto giving a hacking cough. Her legs are boneless jelly underneath her as she tries to stand.

They both take a moment to collect themselves, Remy raking her hands over her helmet.

“Heheh,” she starts laughing, her mouth falling open and a rumbling, manic laughter bubbling up from her center. She rips her helmet off and spits her oxygen mouthpiece out. “Oh my God!” She laughs again and opens her arms wide to the sun, “Oh my fucking God.” She tries to stand up again and fails, spinning around on her knees and praying to some unknown force that protects idiots and sea-dwellers. She whoops, “Callisto!” She calls, “Callisto, Callisto, fuck.” Callisto was covering her face and holding her side, breathing heavily, “you, you,” she heaves and her face jerks up, “you crazy bastard! I should kick your ass.”

Remy laughs again and falls over, “True!” She spreads her arms out wide, “Crazy enough to save the projects though!” She crows, “and you,” she points, “you saved my life.” Callisto growls, “not on purpose.” Remy pushes her sweaty hair back, “you are going to get so much medicine.” Callisto blinks a couple times, “You’re lucky I’m too tired to drop kick you off into The Salts, did you even try listening to me?” Remy sheepishly scratches her nose, “we’re alive?” Callisto shakes her head, she wobbles over toward her and bops her on the head with her knuckles.

“Ow!”

“Crazy bastard,” she mutters, “you’re lucky I’m faster than death himself.” Remy blinks a couple times as she covers her head, “cocky much?” Callisto snorts, “grateful much?”

“Right, okay, I can kiss your toes or something,” she tilts her head up, “thanks. Yeah, thank you.” She flexes, “We made it! Alive and everything.” Callisto exhales slowly, “I’d keep it that way,” she grey eyes go hard, “You got what you’re looking for, you shouldn’t come back.” Callisto blinks a couple times, “but… I will be back? That’s the whole point.” She lifts herself up into the light, “so we can return to the earth.” Callisto’s eyebrow twitches and she seems to clench her fists, she opens her mouth and then closes it. She looks away, “you should get out of here.” She rasps heavily.

“Can’t I give you a hug or something?” Remy smiles, “I can’t believe we made it-” “Get. Out.” Callisto takes a menacing step forward, “or I’ll take your camera.” Remy frowns deeply, “hey, we’re in this together.” She tries to say lightly, “we just fought death himself, remember? And… it will be good. After this.” Callisto growls, “so you can all come back here muck it up again? So you can take our water and food? Get the fuck out of here.” Remy takes a step back, “We’re not like that, it’ll be different this time.” Callisto jabs a finger in the air, “Go. Get your silly dreams crushed somewhere else.” She scowls and spits at Remy’s feet, “no good deserter in the first place.” Remy scrambles away from her fury and hits the ‘Summon’ button her helmet the whirrs the engine alive on her plane. She scowls, “Jeez, stuff you too.”

Callisto’s angry eyes follow her as she backs up and jams her helmet back on, fleeing the scene before Callisto changes her mind about saving her. Remy doesn’t look back this time and swallows her bitterness.

It would be different after this, she would make sure of it- even if Callisto couldn’t see that now.

She takes off back to the white pillar in the distance with a round sphere on top, back to the Observatory and the future she would make herself.

<======= Chapter One

[macbookpro-hard-drive]

unlonely [michael m. x reader] pt.1

like what i do? consider buying me a coffee!

oh SHIT. oh SHIT lads??? a part one??? but percy u never number the first parts!!!

yeah thats because i usually dont expect myself writing another part sdkfjhds but this? ive been planning this fic for a fuckin while now and it’s about time that i finish this and post it instead of yknow... starting part two and giving myself at least a beginning BUT oh well man i was excited and wanted to post this dskjfhds

also this went through multiple titles. unlonely ended up being the winner. brownie points if y’all know the song.

warnings: i dont think theres anything big other than like. my general swearing warning. 

            To say that you were friends with anyone at Middleborough would have been a complete lie. You knew people, sure, but you’d never really built up a connection with anyone past small jokes in-class and sometimes the rare invite for you to join them at lunch. For the most part, you’d been a loner - and that was how you liked it. It left you to sit alone at lunch and focus on your art, or for you to focus on getting homework done because you had Final Fantasy XV waiting for you at home and you were just about to help Iris with shit before you realized you wouldn’t have been able to save. You used your time wisely, and spent your free time at home, sometimes in a Discord call with a couple video game buddies who you’d met via Overwatch. But you’d be lying if you said there hadn’t been a couple people in your classes that you’d wished you’d talk to. One of those people had been Michael Mell, music enthusiast and video game aficionado. For the most part, you didn’t really know much about him past the fact he almost always had headphones around his neck, the fact he was best friends with Jeremy Heere (someone you’d honestly written off as a geek, and honestly, potential friend material since something told you that the two of you would have hit it off), and the fact he had various video game keychains since he had the habit of throwing down his keys during AP Biology - the only class the two of you shared where he sat right next to you, by some stroke of luck.

            So when Jeremy Heere suddenly changed completely and left Michael in the dust, you decided you’d give him a week. One week to stop being a huge dick and talk to the guy who’d apparently been Michael’s best friend for the past twelve years, according to some kid in your math class. You’d watched Michael try to grab his attention while in the hall as Jeremy strode past him, ignoring him for the entire day in order to spend time with people like Rich Goranski and Chloe Valentine - neither of who you disliked, but people that surprised you that they’d spend time with Jeremy Heere. 

            One week and two days later, you found yourself trying to find something to talk to Michael about that wasn’t video games. You gave that up quickly during the last fifteen minutes of AP Bio.

            You, in an attempt to find a conversation started, ended up stared at his key-chains: a buster sword, a diamond pickaxe, a round Pac-man with an open mouth, and a flat Nintendo game-boy. You settled on the buster sword, licking your lips and swallowing any doubt that had begun to pool in your stomach. “Did you hear about the remake?” You’d asked, and for a moment Michael hadn’t realized you’d been talking to him until he finally tore his eyes away from his phone, meeting your gaze. You smiled, “for uh, Final Fantasy-”

            He nodded before you could give the number. “Yeah, uh - I heard,” he said, wary of your sudden presence. You shifted uncomfortably at that - maybe you should have opened up with something different.

            “Yeah - uh, I never really got a chance to play the original since my older brother took his PlayStation and all his games when he moved out - but I’m excited for the remake! I’m hoping that it’ll live up to the fame of the original,” you said, keeping up a smile and acting as confident as you could. “I’m hoping that maybe when I visit him, I can play a bit.”

            Michael blinked in the sight of you, surprised you were still talking to him. He half-expected that spark of conversation to die out as quickly as it had flamed. But he reached up, tugging slightly at his headphones, and sat slightly straighter. “It’s honestly one of the best games in the series. The soundtrack alone is fantastic,” he said, starting to warm up to you, “you should definitely listen to it at least.”

            “I have!” You chirped, smiling, “yeah - my brother used to play video game soundtracks in the mornings when he’d drive me to school. He said something about it being nice, and then would always make a big deal for his favorite games. I’ve been wanting to play more of the older games, but so far I’m kinda fascinated with the newest one so... one game at a time, I guess.”

            “Yeah, uh, fifteen’s pretty fun actually!” Michael ran a hand through his hair, “it’s different but...”

            “Really good. I’m kinda glad the series took a step away from the turn-based combat, I guess.” You shoved your hands into the front pocket of your hoodie, “so... what else do you play?”

            “A lot of old shit,” he shrugged, “Overwatch, sometimes. I haven’t really played recently though.”

            You immediately jump on that thread. “What do you play on? Who do you main?” 

            He blinked at the sight of you, before a small smile cracked upon his face. Maybe you were cooler than he thought. “Uh, PS4 mainly, and... Sombra, D.Va, aaaand Lúcio. What about you?”

            “Same, actually - my brother also bought Overwatch for PS4 and then ended up giving that to me when he left. As for who I main-”

            The bell rung out, interrupting you as teenagers began to shuffle around you. You slowly stood, grabbing your bag and slipping an arm through one strap as you turned back to Michael. He’d already stood, shoving his keys into his pocket and backpack already hanging off of one shoulder. He watched you for a moment, as if waiting to see if you were actually going to pursue conversation or leave him now that class was over.

            “If you wanna keep talking about video games ‘n stuff,” you said, “we can maybe grab lunch together?”

            “Yeah, I’d, uh- I’d like that?” He acted as if he was unsure. He paused as he pushed in his chair, leaning against it, “I don’t eat in the cafeteria though.”

            “That’s valid,” you stepped away, walking with him out of the classroom. “I’ve got money, if that helps-”

            “You... really wanna talk to me, don’t you?” He stared at you, dumbfounded that someone would actually take notice of him past the regular little interactions - asking him to get out of the way, asking him a question about class, all the basic shit that’d be forgotten minutes all.

            You nodded, the fabric of your backpacks straps scratching against your palm to make an uncomfortable noise. You winced slightly because of it, before nodding again awkwardly. “Yeah. I do.” You sort of smile, “is that a problem? You seem cool.” He shook his head as he walked alongside you, one hand fumbling with his headphones. You continued on, “so.. We were talking about my mains, right?”

            The walk out to Michael’s car wasn’t too awkward in the end. He was surprisingly happy to keep talking about different video games, lamenting about this shitty level in Apocalypse of the Damned before immediately shutting up about it. Then the conversation turned to food, Michael suggesting sushi and you just sorta shrugged and agreed since he was driving. On the drive over, there was the whole awkward conversation of “wait, should we eat in or get our stuff to go?” which ended in the two of you deciding just to chill in his car in the parking lot of the school with your food. Twenty minutes later, the two of you had kicked back and were listening to music in his car, enjoying your food.

            “Y’know,” you started, “for a dude who was so eager to get sushi, I’m surprised you didn’t get more sushi.” You shrugged, “I mean, it’s no biggie - I’m just a little surprised-”

            Michael looked over to you, before looking back to his food, “eh. I’m not that big on fish - plus the beef negimaki is fucking god there.” He then stole another glance to you, “what’s up with the fork?”

            “Never learned to use chopsticks,” you shrugged, “my brother always made fun of me for it.” You smiled a little, “I mean - I just can’t really loosen my grip enough, I guess.” You glanced down to the chicken yakisoba you’d ordered, “besides. I mean... it’s not like I’m eating sushi with a fork.”

            “I guess you have a point.” He said. Awkward silence grew between the two of you, only leaving the music to fill the small bits of tension that had developed since you were sort of a stranger in a way.

            “You like music?” You asked, mentally slapping yourself - of course he likes music, who doesn’t like music? “What do you listen to?”

            He lit up immediately at that, jabbing his empty chopsticks in the direction of his radio. “Eighties stuff. Grew up with it,” he began, “mainly because of my moms, but my older brother was big into eighties shit as well. And, uh, he also got me into Filipino eighties music,” he shrugged, “heritage stuff, I guess.” He paused for a moment, idly tapping his chopsticks against the to-go container for a moment, “plus he’s older than me so... I guess I thought he was cool and started listening to stuff because of it.”

            “Are you saying your brother isn’t cool?” You shifted, iron-grip on your lunch, “because you better hope I never meet him or I’ll tell him that.”

            He snorted a little at that, “he’s cool. He ended up moving to Philly with a bunch of friends a year ago.”

            You nodded, reaching for your drink. “Maybe you could show me some music sometimes? I’ve been looking for some new bops-”

            “I can make you a playlist!” Michael then drew back slightly, confidence fading little by little, “I mean, if you want-”

            “I’d really like that.” The minute you spoke, Michael beamed, once again filled with confidence. The way that Michael seemed to light up, all the stars falling into his eyes - it made you smile a little more than you had been before. “Do you, uh - you use Spotify, right?”

            “Yeah! My moms pay for premium,” he beamed, before his smile fell. “Do... you uh-”

            “Want my number?” You offered up, and he nods, unlocking his phone and handing it over to you. You flipped open the contacts, pressing the little plus button and filling in your info before shooting a quick message to yourself before setting his phone back in his hand.

            That afternoon started the constant memes, along with the occasional song that he’d ask your opinion on - always swearing that it was so he could get a better grasp of your taste so that you’re playlist will be perfect. Some you liked, some you forced yourself to listen to past the first minute (and occasionally, you ended up liking them), others you dropped barely seconds in, something not quite jiving with you. He’d usually find you at lunch on the days you didn’t have AP Bio,or occasionally he’d ask if you wanted to run somewhere for lunch since cafeteria sucks. By that Saturday, a link popped up to a playlist just titled ‘tasty jams for [y/n]’ with the description set as ‘because their music taste might suck and im a good person :)’ - which made you laugh, sending a quick ‘thank you for your wise wisdom, mello yello’ before you plugged in your headphones to listen.

            You really, really appreciated Michael’s taste in music, honestly.

            Over the course of the next few weeks, Michael became a regular part of your life. After your insistence that, dude, you were gonna be lonely anyway, just come and sit with you - he sorta caved in and ate lunch with you regularly, animatedly talking about video games or music or this stupid YouTube video he watched: anything and everything, like he was this dam that had been building up and now he finally had someone to talk to, someone to spill everything to. AP Biology consisted of dumb jokes under your breath, Michael’s soft chuckles next to you making you crack little smiles; little notes slipping to one another during your American History class, sometimes little drawings, other times little jokes; and then there was Algebra, where the two of you would text each other from across the room, trying your best to hide your phones. At the end of math, Michael would be waiting by the classroom door, falling into step beside you as the two of you started heading out to the parking lot. 

            “Hey!” He greeted you one day, visibly nervous despite the smile plastered to his face. He shoved his hands into his pockets, “hey, uh, you wanna... come over on Saturday? We could play video games or something,” he shrugged. 

            You mulled over the thought for a minute, before slowly nodding. “Okay.”

            He smiled again, reaching up and fumbling with the cord of his headphones as he looked over to you. “You do know we’re gonna play some spooky shit, right? It’s almost Halloween,” he sorta laughed, “spooky scary.”

            You jabbed him with your elbow, not hard enough to hurt him. “Fuckin’ dork, fine- but I get first pick at characters.”

            “Yeah, fine, you can be player-” He paused, catching himself, “yeah. Yeah, okay!”

            You didn’t push it.

            That Saturday you drove over to Michael’s house, letting your Google Maps app guide you the entire way, calling out directions along the way over the sound of the playlist Michael made for you. You cursed the cold weather outside, your jacket sitting in the passenger seat of the heated car. The moment you pulled up outside of Michael’s house, only his P.T Cruiser sitting in the driveway, you shot him a quick text that you were outside and he best have that door open because you aren’t dealing with this cold shit today. Barely taking a minute to slip into your jacket, you cut off the car and pocketed the keys, clicking the doors locked after you hopped out and dashed to the front door, Michael opening it just in time for you to slide inside.

            He stood there, watching you literally slide to a stop. “You don’t like the cold, do you?”

            You shook your head. “Not when the weather lies to me, dear Mello Yello.” 

            He glanced upstairs, before looking back to you. “I’m gonna grab some snacks - but you can go on up? First door on the left,” he shut the front door, finally cutting the cold air out of the situation. You nodded, awkwardly shooting him finger guns as you strolled past him and head upstairs - after kicking off your boots near the door, having found Michael’s own shoes sitting nearby. You found Michael’s room easily, even if he hadn’t given you instructions, considering his door had been left wide open and his room was as Michael-esque as you expected.

            Band T-shirts littered the floor, some lazily thrown over the chair at his desk, along with what you swore looked like a pizza box tucked under his bed and a few empty cans of soda - all crushed and most around a full trashcan near the bedroom door. You sorta hold back a smile at how fucking stereotypical teenage-boy the mess was - but that little bit of restraint disappeared as you started taking in the posters pinned around his room, all with red or white pushpins holding them up. The Legend of Zelda, Uncharted, The Last of Us, Tomb Raider, Portal - and then, among those, you caught a few others. Old movies posters - things like Nightmare on Elm Street and Alien and The Thing - peeked out from between everything else, and then it all came to a stop at this cork-board that hung above Michael’s desk. Pictures were pinned up everywhere, some of him by himself, others with him and his moms and someone you only assumed was a brother or a cousin or something - due to the striking resemblance that Michael shared with him. And then there were pictures of Jeremy - scarce but still there -  among all the memories of Disney World and sleepy plane rides with a dark sky peeking through the windows. All of them were different ages - Michael and Jeremy at what you could only assume was sometime during their last few years of elementary school, posing proudly with the widest smiles and papers in front of them for good grades or good attendance, the sort of shit that you usually get in elementary school; or Michael chilling at a community pool with Jeremy, both probably thirteen or fourteen, with ice cream and sodas sitting on a wire table behind them, towels wrapped around their shoulders and smiles forced in that sort of way that when you’re thirteen, you don’t want anyone to see you; and then there was a picture of Michael and Jeremy, taken within the last year, with Michael’s arm thrown around Jeremy’s shoulder as this was absolutely something snapped at the most opportune moment, and you couldn’t really make out what they were looking at but they both looked so happy and comfortable with each other. Something inside of you plucked at your heartstrings, and for a moment, you weren’t sure what to think. 

            You tore your attention away from the board, ignoring whatever the sticky notes littered here and there said, and you started fumbling with a Rubik’s Cube on his desk. His laptop sat, open with a darkened screen - and with an accidental brush of the wireless mouse that’d been positioned a little too close to the Rubik’s Cube, you were greeted with his Spotify open to a playlist in progress, a key-smash for a name and description (very creative) with a few songs listed. Eventually you set down the toy, making your way over to his bed and sitting down, just sort of taking in the sight of Michael’s room while the scent of some air freshener lingered around you.

            “Shit-” Michael said as he approached the room, causing you to turn around. “I was... sort of in the middle of cleaning... aaand I wasn’t sure if I should finish while you were here-” He kicked out his desk chair, it rolling back enough for him to seat himself, the back of it pressed against his stomach. “I can clean up more if you want.”

            “It’s cool, dude. No messier than my room,” you sort of laughed, whether it was true or not. What are we playing?”

            He didn’t answer, standing and handing over a can of soda to you before going over to where his games were stored, flipping through them. “I... didn’t plan that far ahead.”

            He rattled off the titles of games, while your focus drifted back to the photos on the wall. You’d never really seen Michael so happy - well, perhaps when you asked about him making you a playlist, but that moment paled in comparison to the most recent picture with Jeremy - and that twisted your stomach. You didn’t hear Michael stop reading out names, before his gaze settled on what you’d been staring at. He stood once more, clutching a game in his hands now as he walked over to the board.

            “Yeah, uh - my family travel a lot,” he said, looking back to you. “Usually just over summer and breaks and whatever,” he sunk down into the chair, and you crawled over to the foot of his bed, as close as you could get without standing. He pointed out different pictures - the summer he went to Disney World and how he got super fucking spooked on Expedition Everest, or how they took a road trip one summer and jammed out to eighties bops the entire way, or the day trips they took to New York as a family - before you catch his gaze falling to Jeremy. 

            “So!” You interrupt the silence that had started to grow between the two of you, “Mello Yello. What we playing.” You didn’t ask. But he lit up, glad to have something else to think about. You beamed at him as he held up the case.

            “Resident Evil 5.” He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, “got that fucking spooky zombie shit.” 

            “Just in time for Halloween,” you mused, “dope. I get to be Chris.”

            He chuckled, moving to queue the game up and handing you a controller. “Your loss, then.”

            “Dude. I get to be a fucking beefy dude.”

            “But Sheva though.”

            You mulled the thought over. “... You have a point.”

            The game queued up. And then Michael spoke again, nudging you to scoot over as he sat on his bed. “Are you going to Jake’s Halloween party?”

            Something about that question made your blood turn to ice for a mere moment. That... came from nowhere - and you didn’t even know Jake Dillinger past the fact that a lot of people would fucking love to fuck him. So you shrugged the question off. “Are you?”

            And Michael didn’t answer.

            “Michael?”

            He looked over to you, before turning his attention to the game, starting it up. You pinned your eyes to the screen, as the opening tutorial started up after the two of you configured shit. “Jeremy’s supposed to be there,” he finally admitted. “I thought that maybe I’d go talk to him. Y’know, talk some sense into him.” His shoulders fell as he let out a heavy breath, “yell at him about how we were friends for twelve years and how he’s being a huge fucking dick because of the SQUIP-”

            You cut him off: “the what.” He freezed under your gaze. “Michael... you never told me what happened with Jeremy.”

            And he wasn’t going to - judging by how he immediately fumbled with his controller, slowly breathing out as he squeezed his eyes shut. The game started, throwing you into the opening cutscene of the game. You watched as Michael drew his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment, before he finally decided to speak again.

            “You can’t tell anyone about this,” he said, and the moment you finally nodded, he continued on. “So uh... the SQUIP is this... weird supercomputer-pill-thing,” he started, “and it’s supposed to like... tell you what to do? I don’t know - Jeremy said that this guy at school was going to sell him one and we went to check it out and now he’s too good for-” He hesitated. “He’s too good to hang out with me, since... I guess I’m a loser?” He stared at the TV screen before the two of you. “I dunno - he didn’t... really say.”

            You didn’t speak. You only sat there, playing the game as you listened to Michael filled you in on what limited information he had. The entire time he spoke, he looked so distant. Just mere minutes ago, he’d been alive - talking to you about his family and about the game, and he’d been bright as he greeted you at the door and brought snacks and soda for the two of you - and now... he looked tired. You suddenly stopped, grip on the controller becoming loose as you only stared at Michael, watching his focus stay on the game, movement reflecting in his glasses until he, too, finally stopped. The two of you had been lucky there weren’t any enemies around at that point - you’d probably have died and had to restart if there had been. His gaze slowly met yours.

            “I know it sounds crazy,” Michael breathed, grip tight on the controller, “but... it’s true - I promise,” he paused, searching for words to say, searching your face for disbelief. But he didn’t find it. He found concern, etched into every feature that you had.

            “Michael... it’s not that it’s crazy, as... impossible as a supercomputer-pill-thing sounds,” you said, not sure how else to refer to this SQUIP thing, “I mean... It’s just really, really hard to grasp. Like...” You paused, tracing your thumb along hard plastic, “if you’re going to talk to Jeremy at the party,” you shifted the subject, “are you sure that’s something that you should do-”

            He didn’t wait. “Yes - I have to-”

            “- alone?” You finished, dumbfounding him almost immediately. “Look - I’m not saying that I, uh... go in there with you or anything, but... I can drive you, or just wait in the car-” You cut yourself off, “I just don’t think this is something you should be doing completely alone.”

            You were met with a completely dumbfounded stare, before he finally snapped back to reality, your words sinking in. And then he nodded, immediately spouting off some plan about how you can pick him up that night, and he can change into his costume on the way to Jake’s house and then he’ll crash at your place, so the whole idea of him chilling at your place wouldn’t be a complete lie to his moms. The entire time he went into detail about this whole scheme he cooked up, you couldn’t fight back a smile. 

            Because at that moment, the two of you had become partners in crime.

            Fuck yes.

[imhereforbvcky]

Make Me Believe - Part 1

Freshman Year: Making More Than Friends

Masterlist  -  Series Masterlist  -  Part 2

Summary: You keep meeting Bucky Barnes in unexpected places and he keeps acting like you know each other, like you’re dating. (tropes abound! college AND fake dating au. I’m a mess.)

Prompt(s): First day of college

Warnings: Drinking and silliness

Word Count: 2811

Author’s Note: This for @buckthegrump’s writing challenge because I love to push things to the very last minute. This will be a mini series.

Standing in line at the Starbucks at the center of campus was perhaps not your best laid plan. It was crowded and you were anxious to get moving. It was move-in day. You’d gotten your keys from Admissions and had left your car in a loading zone while you dashed in for what you hoped to be a quick coffee run. Now you could only hope you hadn’t been towed yet.

Finally, finally you were at the front of the line, about to place your order when a hand on your shoulder and a large, tall student slid to your side. He was cute, real cute. But if he thought you were going to give up your space in line for a handsome face, he was dead wrong.

“Hey sweetie, sorry I’m late.” He smiled warmly at you and winked at your confused stare. Your mouth had fallen slightly open, like a fish out of water, unsure what to say, not even sure you could breathe.

He turned to the girl behind the counter with an equally charming smile and began to place his order before adding a casual, “...and whatever my girl here wants.”

His smirk was so fluid, so infuriatingly natural as he nodded his head in your direction. It was all you could do to close your mouth as you glared at this precocious stranger and his antics for skipping the line.

“What do you want, gorgeous? We’re holding up the line.”

You glanced behind you at the impatient customers behind you. He was right. Damn it. What the hell could you do? He’d already ordered, it was either cause a scene and seperate yourself from his order or play along and get this over with.

“Um, sorry,” you smiled at the barista. “Vanilla latte please, with an extra shot.”

Before you could think your handsome intruder had handed over a 20 and stepped to the side, waiting for his drink.

“Thanks,” he murmured as he leaned close to your ear. Too close for strangers. “I’m running late and did not have time for that line.”

“Yeah, you’re a jerk,” you grumbled, folding your arms over your chest. “Everybody had to wait, I had to wait! I have somewhere to be too, you know.”

“You still got your coffee,” he argued, “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you spat, with all the sarcasm you could muster.

He only laughed, smirking as your drinks were called out. With his drink in hand he backed out of the cafe. “What’s your name by the way?”

“Not interested!” you snapped. But you couldn’t help the small smile pulling across your face.

His laugh was a soft rumble that only made it worse. “See you ‘round, gorgeous.”

“Hey! Let me help you with that!” You turned to see a handsome smiling face, reaching for the small microwave in your arms. Temporarily frozen, you could only gape at him. He was so tall and broad with a tussle of soft blonde hair and shining blue eyes. They definitely didn’t make guys like this in your little hometown. Hell you didn’t know they made them like this outside of photoshop.

“Uhm thanks,” you finally managed, with a matching smile. “But that box of books is a lot heavier and you look more uh… equipped to handle that than I am.”

You offered a shy and slightly embarrassed smile that was met with a hearty laugh as he reached for the box you’d indicated. He stacked it on top of your last suitcase and turned to you with another bright smile. “Alright, where to?”

“Uh D Hall, 3150.”

As you waited for the elevator, he tried for small talk. You were never great at small talk; it always felt so tedious and pointless that it came awkward and stunted. The obligatory follow up questions never come naturally to you like they seemed to others and more often than not you wound up blurting out un-interesting facts about books or asking abrupt questions.

True to form, you set in on your unintentional interrogation. “So what is this? Are giant good-looking samaritans just a thing around here? If that’s the case I’m in trouble. I look like a sea urchin next to people like you.”

He laughed again, softer this time as he looked at his feet. You could tell he was used to this. He had the sort of confidence that comes easy to those who have never had to compensate for anything, but the grace to look slightly embarrassed by compliments, flattered, without ever really acknowledging it. Eventually he looked back up to you with a lopsided smile that seemed to make your stomach flip.

“You’re cute,” he said it like it was just a fact, a statement, no more no less. “No, it’s through the University.” The smile in his voice was nearly as warm as the one he turned on you in that tight space. “I volunteered to help new students move in, give ‘em a run down of the building and in return I got access to campus early and I get extra points on my meal plan until everyone’s moved in.”

“But moving sucks. That’s like being the buddy with the pick-up truck to 2,000 students. That sounds miserable.”

He laughed again, it seemed like the only reaction in his arsenal, but somehow it was still warm and sincere. “I’m never one to turn down free food.”

“Yeah, you look like it. What’re you, like, 8% body fat?” you rolled your eyes, the sarcasm thick before you both snorted in laughter.

“Soon! You’ll learn how valuable free food is to we poor college kids. Where are you from anyway?” he asked as you held your dorm room door open for him with your foot.

“Small town, you haven’t heard of it.”

“A small town huh? This your first time living away from home?” he asked as he set your things down.

“Mhmm. First time out of the state, if you can believe it.”

“I can,” he nodded with a poorly concealed smirk.

“Hey!” you shoved his shoulder playfully. “It’s not that obvious.”

“Little bit,” he nodded with a shrug. “You’re like an adorable little hillbilly lost in the big city campus.”

“What?! I’m not lost--”

“But we can fix that. What are you doing tonight?”

You stared at him for a moment, debating whether you should protest this unsolicited nickname or see where this line of questions lead. Finally you looked purposefully around the room full of boxes to be unpacked and shrugged. “You’re lookin’ at it.”

“No. It’s your first night as a free and independent adult, your first night at college, this needs to be memorable.” He reached for a pen from your roommate’s desk and scribbled an address onto the side of one of the cardboard boxes. It was somewhere on the south side of campus. “Come to this address later tonight. Ask for Cap or Bucky.”

“Bucky as in Buckwheat, the only girl allowed in the He-Man-Woman-Haters Club?” you asked with a judgemental snort.

“As in James Buchanan Barnes doesn’t like to be called Jimmy.”

“Got it, Bucky or Cap.”

“See you there.”

You giggled as he turned out of the room with an easy smile. Flutters had begun to kick off in your stomach as you flopped backwards onto your vinyl University-supplied mattress. You were far too caught up in replaying every second of the past 20 minutes to consider that you really should clean that mattress first.

The deeper you wound into the maze of streets south of campus, the thicker the parties grew. Every 5th house had brightly colored lights flashing through living room windows with thumping dance music to greet passersby in waves from within. You smiled as you walked to your destination, enjoying the last of the warm air in early fall and relishing in the newness and freedom of the world in which you now found yourself.

Your small town was far behind with its sleepy farmhouses and crumbling bungalows. Its nosy neighbors would gasp in a mix of horror and delight at the fodder for Sunday morning gossip to be found here. All the while the smile brimming to your lips was uncontainable as the freedom of anonymity took hold. No one knew you here, and no one cared. You could slip into any one of these parties and in minutes have a drink in hand and a new crowd.

The world lay at your feet and you needed only choose who to become.

When you finally approached your destination your excitement waned. It was an enormous stone house, absolutely crawling with people. You paused at the end of the lawn, taking in the scene. It was fresh out of a bad teen movie. Red solo cups seemed like permanent appendages, bawdy shouts clamored from a game of beer pong on the long open porch, clumsily wrapped white bed sheets barely managed to cling onto half of the attendees. Worst of all, there, in illuminated blocks over the door stood the unmistakable shape of the greek letters.

A frat. You’d been lured to a frat party on your very first day here.

With a determined sigh through gritted teeth you began the walk down the stone pathway toward the front door. As you approached the party a brick wall of a man stumbled backwards through the door nearly bowling you over.

In a moment he’d swung his arms around your back to steady you both, his long blonde hair falling in tangles and tickling your cheek as he leaned over you.

“‘M terribly sorry, m’lady!” he slurred followed by an excited smile that was so broad his eyes wrinkled to thin blue winks. You thought he might burst into laughter as he pulled back, setting you both to rights.

“May I offer you a cold beverage as recompense for nearly uh… running you over?”

You stared at him for a moment, wide-eyed and unsure before glancing behind him to his friend who shrugged and rolled her eyes. “This is Thor. He does accents when he’s drunk. I don’t know.” You laughed in relief. The pressure of pretending this was normal seemed too much and for someone else to acknowledge the insanity was a welcome sight. “I’m Valkyrie.” She offered you her hand and you took it. Before you could offer your own name Thor was bellowing again.

“That one was my father!” Thor volunteered with a deep hearty laugh. “It’s a good imitation. But you wouldn’t know, since you’ve never met him. He’s an Earl of Asguard or Ashworth or something...” He scowled in concentration.

Before he’d finished his speech he was trying to shove an icy can of beer into your hand. You held your hands up in what you hoped to be polite refusal.

“No, I’m… I’m not sure I’m in the right place. I’m looking for Bucky? Or Cap?” you recited the names you’d been given, hoping they’d act like some magic passcode into something less horrifying.

“Cap!!!” Thor shouted, throwing his arms into the air.

“Heeey!” came a laughing shout of a reply from a corner of the porch. The raised hand of yet another brick wall of a blonde man waved back. You could see his smile from your current position half way down the stairs, the soft crop of blonde hair.

“He’s right there,” Thor smiled down at you.

“Thanks,” you laughed, the sarcasm thick but unnoticed by the deliriously happy drunk.

You made your way through the throng of clumsy party-goers, shifting to shuffle sideways past narrow openings in the crowd until you reached ‘Cap’ in the corner of the porch, leaning against the old stone railing.

As you approached the table, Steve shouted in triumph as the white ping pong ball sunk into one of the cups on the opposite end of the table with a light thunk. You smiled and continued to shift closer. Right up until he turned to his beer pong partner and grabbed her face, two large hands cupping her cheeks.

“Okay, you can do this! You can end the game right now!”

You heard her giggle and nod. As she turned to the table he released her, his hand sliding down her back and hooking around her waist as she made the shot. The cacophony of cheers and squealing delight were simply infuriating. She leapt into his arms happily and he held her there, feet off the ground, arms around his neck.

You had no idea if they were together, or just a one-night event, but it didn’t matter either way. The sinking dread that you were a complete idiot for accepting this invitation crept over you, through the knot in your stomach and up your throat.

Refusing to waste another thought on it, you dove deeper into the party, seeking out the keg.

When you made it to the kitchen, however, an infuriatingly familiar face turned on yours. The most chilling grin catching your eye as he eased over toward you, all arrogance and mirth. Like the cat who got the cream. Like you were back in your home town again; like you hadn’t escaped at all.

You spun on your heel to make a quick escape from what was clearly the worst decision you’d made all day. But he called out loud and demanding and it had you frozen for a moment.

“Bonnie?! What a small world!”

You took in a deep breath, grinding your teeth against the urge to scream at him. The unbidden nickname struck you with greater force than ever. This was meant to be a fresh start, a new beginning.

“Not that small, Jack, there are forty thousand students here. Why don’t you pick someone else to torture?”

“Oh come on,” he simpered, stepping forward. “You like Bonnie. Found a Clyde yet?”

An irritated sigh rushed past your lips. Jack was the last person you wanted to see. Anyone from home fell pretty low on the list, but he made perpetually came in dead last.

“No. And I’d like to be called by my name, not some stupid nickname the argyle brigade bestowed on me in high school,” you snarled.

“It’s not really behind your back if you know about it,” he grinned. “C’mon I’m kidding!” he groaned as you turned to walk away. His fingers curled around your wrist, pulling you back.

All you could manage was to glare at his hand gripping you. If only a look could be actual daggers.

Before you’d calmed down enough to speak, an arm slid over your shoulder and a familiar voice called your attention.

“Hey gorgeous, I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Coffee shop guy.

You managed a tight smile as you turned to him. He was grinning down at you, just as comfortably as he had this morning. You wondered vaguely how often he’d pulled this move.

“Hi sweetie,” you grinned, narrowing your eyes only slightly.

“We can’t find the stereo remote, I thought you had it earlier…”

“Yeah! Yeah, let me help you find it,” you beamed up at him before turning to leave. He grinned back at you, his hand snaking into yours as you stepped out from under his arm.

With a glance over his shoulder he gave a short nod to Jack; the sort of nod that men offer to say ‘I see you, but we don’t need to talk.’ A smirk drew across his face as he turned back to you, as you wandered off to another corner of the party.

A laugh burst from your lips as you spun on your heel, leaning toward coffee shop guy.

“That was entirely too satisfying. Thank you.”

“Any time,” he grinned.

“Evidently!” you bawked. “So is this your thing? The fake boyfriend bit?”

“It’s 2 for 2 today.” He shrugged and took a sip of his beer. “So can I get your name now?”

With a rueful smile you offered your name and he nodded.

“Bucky,” he returned, gesturing toward himself with his drink. His gaze roved over you quickly. “This isn’t your thing, is it?”

It wasn’t a question.

“That obvious?” you laughed. “No, I uh… Some guy helped me move into my dorm and invited me. But I realized when I got here that he probably helped a lot of idiots like me move. Can I have some of that?” you asked, pointing to his drink.

He smiled and handed it to you. His gaze remained steadily on you as you took a long sip. He chewed on his lip for a moment.

“D’you want to get out of here?”

You sputtered into the cup and handed it back to him. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

A big laugh burst quickly from his lips. “I wasn’t offering.”

You rolled your eyes and frowned. Somehow it was both a relief and a disappointment.

“C’mon.”

Next Chapter >>

Everything Tags: @blacwings-and-bucky-barnes  @creideamhgradochas  @johnmurphys-sass  @nykitass  @learisa  @4theluvofall  @ailynalonso15  @amrita31199  @assbutt-son-of-a-bitch  @badassbaker  @bethy-sue  @brandnewberettaa  @caitsymichelle13  @calaofnoldor  @callamint  @caramell0w   @charlesgrey1875  @cojootromuelle  @denialanderror  @dracsgirl  @dreamtravelerme  @ek823  @emilyinbuffalo  @epicbooklove  @explodingzombiesyndrome  (3)  @feelmyroarrrr  @forgottenswan  @ginamsmith  @givemethatgold  @glittervelvetandlace  @haleyloveshugs  @heartsaved  @hellomissmabel  @-hiddlesdweeb-  @hollycornish  @httpmcrvel  @i-am-mrsreckless  @iiharu-kunii  @imheretomarvel  @indominusregina  @ishipmybed  @itsnotsomefangirl  @james-bionic-barnes  @jurassicbarnes  @justreadingfics  @just-call-me-your-darling  @kanupps06  @kapolisradomthoughts  @k-nighttt  @kaaatniss  @langinator  @larry-pringles  @lilasiannerd  @lovelyladylilac  @luckylundy13  @marvelatmytrash  @mcfuccfairy  @melconnor2007  @movingonto-betterthings  @mrs-lamezec  @midnightloverslie  @moonbeambucky  @morduniversum  @mrs-brxghtside  @nikkitia7  @nicmob  (3)  @omalleysgirl22  @palaiasaurus64  @pcterpvrker  @pickledmoon  @pineapplebooboo  @rockintensse  @rotisserierogers  @rrwilson66  @sammysgirl1997  @science-of-deduction-sh  @saharzek  (2)  @sebbytrash  @secondstartotheright-imagines  @sgtjamesbuchananbarnes107th  @shifutheshihtzu  @simplyashley95  @sociallyimpairedme  @sophiealiice  @stupidsweaterwearingdumbdorks  @tequilavet  @thatgirlsar  @thebitterbookeater  @theliarone  @thelastxgoodthing  @unlikelygalaxygiver  @w1nterchild  @waywardpumpkin  @winterboobaer   @witchymarvelspacecase  @wordsturnintostories  @xnegansgirlx  @zoejohnson8  @cassandras-musings  @decemberftw  (3)  @tired-alpaca  @sapphire1727   @spookymaddie  (2)  @whyisbuckyso  @you-didnt-see-that-cuming

[thejokersenigma]

Loki Laufeyson x Reader - Swipe Right - Part 1

Sorry guys, I have been writing, but just been really distracted and I don’t want to post thing’s if I’m not particularly happy with them, I might be able to get another request out tonight if I can work out some kinks in it...

This was just the first of a short series I came up with last night and felt like writing as everything else seemed too difficult to focus on. I wrote it pretty quickly and haven’t properly gone over it as I need to run to lectures in a minute, so I apologise if there’s a load of mistakes!

Hope you like it.

Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything!

REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN

MAIN MASTERLIST

SWIPE RIGHT MASTERLIST

“What are you smiling about?” Agent Clint Barton asked as you retracted your legs off the coffee table for him to walk past with his plate.

“Nothing.” You mumbled, replacing your legs, crossing them at the ankle. You threw your phone careless down on the cushion next to you and turned your attention back to the laptop that rested on your thighs.

“Yeah right.” Clint grinned slyly, wholly unconvinced as he took the arm chair next to the sofa you were currently sat in the middle of. You ignored him, continuing with your typing, the click of the keys the only sound in the room apart from the occasional flick of Loki turning a page where he sat opposite you across the coffee table.

Your phone buzzed, and you grabbed it again, opening the new message, reading it and then typing a response before you paused, read it through, considered it, then edited it again.

“Wow, do you think this hard about every message you send?” Clint teased, taking a bite from his sandwich.

You scowled, “Not the ones I send you.”

Barton just smirked.

You hit send and tossed the phone away again.

It pinged again a few minutes later.

“Someone’s popular.” Natasha Romanoff observed as she too wandered into the living room area where, only a moment ago, you’d had peace.

“Must everyone comment on my phone activity?” You muttered, picking the device up again and unlocking it.

“Is that a dating website?!”

Shit. You hit the lock button on your phone too late, Stark - who had materialised behind you – having already seen the screen over your shoulder.

You saw Natasha raise her eyebrows at this revelation before you grimaced, scrunching your eyes close in embarrassment as Clint ‘oooed’ next to you, waiting for the comments that were soon to follow.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were looking for a hook up, kid?” Tony cried, slapping you on the back and then leaning on the back of the sofa with crossed arms, looking over at you. “I know lots of interesting people.”

“Because I’m not looking for a ‘hook up’.” You growled, glaring across at him. “And I don’t need your input.”

“Someone’s snappy….” Tony drawled with interest, pushing himself up and away from you, “The sea a bit empty of fish?”

“No.” You retorted moodily.

“Just not very good at the game?”

You gritted your teeth together.

“Stark.” Natasha warned him.

“Aw, come on, it’s just a bit of light hearted ribbing, right Specs?” Tony asked, looking to you.

You however, had already ducked your head back to your laptop. You grumbled something like ‘whatever’ but didn’t look back up, busying yourself with your typing.

You felt the eyes remain on you though and you desperately wished there was a way to supress the heat in your cheeks.

“So, how many matches have you got?”

“Clint!” Natasha reprimanded as you shot your head up.

“What?! This is the most interesting thing that happened since Thor lost his hammer and decided the smartest thing was to call for from four floors up.” Clint pointed out.

Tony grimaced. “That was not interesting.” He muttered. “That was costly.”

You felt your lip twitch at that - apart from narrowly missing the hammer as it smashed through the floor a few feet away from you and right up into Thor’s hand, it had been quite entertaining to watch it dawn on Stark’s face what had happened.

You realised everyone – bar Loki who has still apparently more interested in his book - was looking at you expectantly. You remembered Clint’s question. “I had a few matches…” You mumbled, trying to somehow hunker down in the sofa so far that you’d be swallowed up by it.

“And?” Stark pushed. Natasha shot him a look but didn’t say anything this time and you knew she must be just as intrigued, though a little better at hiding it.

You just shrugged.

Just then, Thor strode over, a sandwich in his hand similar to Clint, and followed on behind by a reluctant Loki. Obviously, today was one of the days that Thor forced his brother to socialise for a few hours.

“Thor!” Tony perked up, spotting the God and eager to relay the new gossip. “Specs here,” He gestured down at you who was turning even redder, sinking even further in your seat. “is on a dating app!” He exclaimed. Thor frowned in confusion, it wasn’t the response Stark wanted, he didn’t seem to care, having too much fun with this and now turning on Loki. “Hey, Reindeer Games,” The man in question glared at the nickname, or just at Tony’s presence – it was hard to tell - “you’re still single, right? Maybe you need to join too? Find yourself a girl who’s got an antler kink?” Tony suggested with a grin. You scowled at Stark.

“What is a ‘dating app’?” Thor frowned, ignoring all of this and continuing into the group. He took the armchair opposite you, leaving the only free space for Loki as the cushion next to you on the sofa. You shuffled quietly over, keeping your eyes down on your laptop.  

“It’s an app for people that are single -,” Natasha explained.

“Not always.” Coughed Tony under his breath. Natasha shot him a glare as you felt the sofa sink under Loki’s weight and saw the edge of this thigh out the corner of your eye, though you pretended to be focusing on what was on your screen.

“You sign up,” Natasha continued, the sternness in her voice a warning to Tony. “put in your information in and then you match with people that take your interest.”

“Then what happens?” Thor asked, apparently very interested in this new thing.

“Uh –“ Natasha glanced around for help, but no one jumped in, “Well, it’s up to you I guess… You usually meet up in real life, get to know each other a bit more, hopefully ending up in a relationship.”

Thor scoffed. “That sounds ridiculous.” He stated, “What is wrong with meeting a maiden at a festivity and then wooing her?”

“What indeed.” You grumbled quietly to yourself, but you thought you caught Loki’s glance flicker down to you as though he had heard.

“Well… uh, there’s nothing wrong with it.” Natasha mumbled.

“Thing is, big guy,” Tony chimed in again, “the only real chance to meet someone on this planet is at work or at a party – and [Y/N] here,” He gestured to you again, “doesn’t go out, and works with us…” He gestured around the room. “So, unless someone wants to take one for the team…” He hinted.

“Stark.” You growled warningly, and he shot you a grin. “Look, if we’re done discussing my personal life, I have work to do and my laptop is dying.” You closed your computer down and pushed yourself to your feet.

“Don’t forget about the party tonight!” Stark called after you, “Come to this one! – you might even find Mr Right!”

You heard, Tony’s exclamations of ‘what?’ at everyone’s disapproving frowns and Natasha mutter something like ‘Jerk’ as you stepped into the lift.

 tags: @sheldonsherlocktony @jemjem-chan @white-chocolate-mocha-fan

[desktopgargoyle]

the road trip series - chapter 2

so this took a little longer to write than i would have originally liked, but what can i say? i’m a student, i have deadlines. anyway, here’s chapter 2 of the road trip series! reviews and criticism are always appreciated :)

i’d like to credit @captainlittlegrasshopper for nino’s playlist in this chapter (which you can listen to here)

ff.net version

chapter two

“This is the Worst. Trip. Ever.” Alya folds her arms and sinks even lower into her seat, propping her feet up on the dashboard as she does so. They’ve been stuck in traffic for around two hours now and she’s willing to bet that they’ve moved about three feet at most.

“Hey, hey, hey! Feet off the dash, Al!” Nino exclaims a little too loudly. “I had the car cleaned last week, there’s no way I’m paying for another clean this week!”

“Calm down, Lahiffe. They’re just socks, they’re not gonna leave footprints or marks or anything.” Alya brushes him off and grabs her phone. She might as well scroll through Instagram for the dozenth time, even if it ends up being the same posts that she scrolled through not even twenty minutes ago.

As expected, nothing new has happened since she last checked. She scrolls through the same pictures of Chloé’s sushi (artfully taken by Sabrina, of course), Rose and Juleka in Amsterdam, Nathaniel’s latest half-completed painting for his upcoming gallery show. Everyone is doing awesome things (apart from Chloé because, in Alya’s opinion, there is nothing particularly interesting about raw fish) and Alya is stuck in traffic. She’s about to check Snapchat when Adrien suggests that they play ‘I Spy’.

“Not that I have anything against ‘I Spy’, but we’re not seven, Adrien.” Alya glances at him in the rear-view mirror and it takes all her willpower to look away because he’s making that face. That face is the face he pulls whenever he really wants someone to agree with him and it’s so, so much more powerful than his pouty face. His eyes widen and this childlike grin splits across his face and he looks so much like a stupid baby kitten that Alya just wants to squish him and boop his nose.

Damn her maternal instincts.

“Please, Alya? Pretty pretty please with sprinkles and a cherry on top?”

She resists pointing out that she actually hates cherries and, against her better judgement, agrees. “Fine. We’ll play ‘I Spy’. But be warned, Agreste. I will end you.” If she’s gonna play, she’s gonna play right.

Adrien does a little happy dance before declaring that he’ll go first. “I Spy with my little eye…something beginning with...T?”

“Really, Agreste? T?” Alya throws him a disbelieving look over her shoulder. “It’s a tree. You can see trees.” She facepalms as he nods sheepishly. “Look, Adrien. I know you didn’t really play this game that much as a kid, but come on! You gotta be more original and inventive than that.”

Adrien huffs and has a quiet strop while Alya begins her turn.

“…something beginning with…S.”

Adrien looks around. “Sky?” Alya shakes her head. “Seat?” Alya shakes her head again. This is turning out to be a lot more difficult than Adrien anticipated. Whenever he had played with Chloé when they were kids she’d always use the same thing: M for ‘Me’! I’m the only thing worth looking at around here, Adrikins.

After fifteen minutes, Alya’s already shot down ‘seatbelt’, ‘steering wheel’, and ‘stereo’ and at this point Adrien is losing the will to continue. On the plus side, traffic has started moving so he’ll try to focus on the positives.

“Signpost?”

“Nope.” Alya responds, popping the ‘p’ smugly. Adrien scowls as she sticks her tongue out at him.

“Scarecrow?”

“Sun?” Marinette has woken up from her nap at this point. Adrien glances at her and chuckles at the indent on her cheek from the door. She’s completely oblivious to this, however, as she rubs her bleary eyes and stretches her arms out, yawning languidly and almost whacking Adrien in the face as she does so.

“You guys are the absolute worst at this, how have you not guessed –”

“Socks.” Nino cuts Alya off mid-sentence, smirking at her as he watches all previous satisfaction drain from her face. He shoots her a wink and she squeaks in indignation.

“How –”

“Psychic, babe. C’mon, you know this already, Al.” He watches with a sly grin as Alya huffs and crosses her arms, muttering about how her stupid boyfriend is an idiot and never lets me win anything I should just break up with him now.

“You know you love me, Al. You’re contractually obligated to love me forever and ever and ever.”

“And I regret that decision more and more each day.”

“Liar.” Nino leans over and kisses Alya’s cheek, smiling widely as her cheeks flush slightly.

Adrien shakes his head fondly at his two idiot friends in the front seats. They’re good for each other, no matter how much they annoy each other, and they fit together so well in a way that Adrien has never really seen before. Healthy relationships haven’t exactly been a big part of his life and watching Nino and Alya together gives him just the slightest sliver of hope that maybe, one day, he’ll have something just as special. If his eyes happen to flick towards Marinette for even just a couple of seconds, Adrien doesn’t dwell on it.

He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice Marinette’s eyes lingering on him, the same sentiment of hope reflecting in them. By the time he shakes off his reverie and looks over at her properly, the shining look from moments ago has passed and he finds her instead sketching diligently what appears to be a new coat design.

“So, do I get a turn at this game or have we all stopped playing?” Nino asks. “Because I think I could be really good at this, y’know?” He drums his fingers lightly on the steering wheel in a weirdly complex rhythm.

Alya nods begrudgingly, still mumbling under her breath.

“Right, here we go, my dudes. I spy with my little eye something beginning with…”

“HOLY SHIT NINO WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING!” Alya screams as the car careers close to the central reservation of the motorway and jolts suddenly as Nino suddenly swerves back onto the lane, away from the metal dividing strip.

“I don’t think that’s a letter, babe. Did you forget the rules of the game?” Nino jokes weakly, trying to cover the situation with some questionable humour.

Alya raises an eyebrow at him, evidently unimpressed. “That’s it. Switch with me, there’s a service station in ten minutes and I don’t want any arguments from you. You’ve been driving for four hours and you’ve only had three hours sleep.” She pats his knee softly in reassurance.

Nino sighs and agrees, albeit reluctantly.

“Hey, if you want you can switch seats with me so you have more room to nap in the back here?” Marinette suggests. She knows only too well the struggle of staying awake with a sleeping pattern like Nino’s. It’s part of the reason she naps so much in car journeys; any rest she can get is valuable.

“Thanks, Maribro, I think I’ll take you up on that.” Nino shoots her a grateful look.

Thirteen kilometres later, they pull into the service station and get out of the car in order to look for food. The road trip snacks have been helpful in keeping them mostly satisfied, but after four hours it’s a unanimous decision that they need some real food right about now.

The service station is, to be quite honest, a bit of a dump. Sure, it’s got good parking but, other than that, there really isn’t anything positive to say about it. Nino sighs. When they had agreed on ‘real food’, they’d been hoping for more options than just a hotdog stand, a McDonald’s, and a Starbucks. And not even a good Starbucks, for that matter.

“I guess there’s only really one option then.” Nino says as he locks the car, unlocks it, and then locks it again. “What? I do that for security reasons, Mari. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Remind me again why we decided against packing our own lunch?”

“We didn’t decide against packing lunch, Agreste. You just decided against waking up early enough to do so.” Alya pokes Adrien in the side.

Adrien gives a long-suffering sigh. “I regret that. I regret that very much.”

“I guess now would be a good time to say that I packed lunch for everyone anyway, right?.” Marinette chirps, snatching Nino’s keys and unlocking the car again in order to grab her picnic basket from the boot. “Impromptu picnic, anyone?”

The looks on her friends’ faces are perhaps the funniest Marinette has seen in a while. Alya’s face is a mix of relief and ‘why-didn’t-I-think-of-this’, Nino is staring at the picnic basket with what can only be described as adoration (she thinks that he may be drooling slightly), and Adrien- well. Adrien’s face has lit up with possibly every happy emotion and he’s looking at her in such awe that she thinks she might burst (although she’s pretty sure that he is just very hungry and he’s really thinking about food).

“Marinette you’re a genius! I could just kiss you!” Adrien shouts, racing over to her and throwing his arms around her. Yep. He’s definitely just really hungry. There’s no way on earth he’d say something like that to her in any normal situation.

Nevertheless, Marinette’s face turns a million different shades of red. “Uh, it was – I mean, and well…you know – I – um – no problem, it was – not deal big – Wait! I mean, not a dig beal- big deal! Uh, yeah.” Out of the corner of her eye she can see Alya facepalming and Nino laughing hysterically, but she decides to ignore them as she always does when she makes a fool out of herself in front of Adrien. “What I meant to say was, it’s not a big deal and, to be honest, I kinda saw this coming.” Marinette breathes a sigh of relief, having finally managed to complete her sentence like an actual functioning human being.

The end up sitting inside of the car, passing food around and chatting about nothing in particular. Maybe ‘picnic’ wasn’t exactly the right word for…whatever this is. But, Marinette reasons to herself, they’re happy and relaxed and more awake with all the food.

“Bro, chill out with the cheese there, would you?” Nino laughs, slapping Adrien on the back and causing him to almost choke. “Get some variation in your diet!”

“What? I like cheese, okay?” Adrien says, mouth still full. Nobody really knows why Adrien loves cheese so much but it’s always been a thing. He says that it’s his cat’s fault because Plagg just really loves cheese and I end up buying so much of it that it’s all I have in my fridge.

Marinette has always found this explanation slightly suspicious, since she’s pretty sure that she read somewhere that cats are lactose intolerant but, then again, she knows Plagg only too well.

Nino has stopped questioning the Cheese Thing because he has, for a fact, seen that cat devour half a wheel of camembert. It was slightly unnerving the first time it happened but he has since gotten used to Plagg’s strange eating habits.

Alya is the only one to make sure that Plagg gets actual cat food. It’s not that Adrien doesn’t ever buy actual cat food, it’s just that he forgets. A lot. But Alya makes sure to buy the massive bags so that Adrien rarely runs out.

Nino, from where he is now seated in the back seat, reaches forward to grab his phone. He clicks onto a playlist and grins to himself. It’s a playlist that Marinette doesn’t recognise and now she’s certain that he’s broken Rule Number 1 of the Road Trip Playlist Committee Rulebook. She has reason to believe that this is, in fact, the second time Nino has done so. This has yet to be confirmed. He winks at her and Marinette suddenly has the feeling that Nino knows something she doesn’t. She scowls and watches as he grins at her, all his annoyingly perfect teeth on display. Yep. He definitely knows something.

Nino is squealing on the inside as he looks down at his phone. His newest playlist, the ‘omg-adrien-is-looking-at-mari-like-/that/-again-and-it’s-so-FRICKING CUTE’ one, is currently blasting in the car and, honestly, he never thought he’d see the day. Both Marinette and Adrien are completely oblivious. Which, he supposes, isn’t necessarily new with them because he’s been trying to get them together for forever and they’re too caught up in pining for each other to realise. Maybe Marinette more so than Adrien.

From: the idiot I’m in love with To: the light of my life AL AL AL AL AL GUESS WHAT

From: the light of my life To: the idiot I’m in love with Babe, I’m sitting directly in front of you. Why are you texting me?

From: the idiot I’m in love with To: the light of my life LOOK FRICKING_CUTE_playlist.jpg

From: the light of my life To: the idiot I’m in love with Are you telling me you made a playlist especially for when Adrien looks at Mari?

From: the idiot I’m in love with To: the light of my life affirmative that is exactly what I’m telling you

From: the light of my life To: the idiot I’m in love with This is genius. But you’re still an idiot.

From: the idiot I’m in love with To: the light of my life go on…say it!!!11!!

From: the light of my life To: the idiot I’m in love with fine. You’re my idiot.

Alya groans audibly at the sound of Nino’s satisfied laugh. Nevertheless, she smiles and glances back down at her phone. Nino is always so incredibly sweet and she wonders how on earth she managed to get this lucky. Sure, he may cause her to roll her eyes more times in a day than is strictly necessary, but she loves him. It took her a long time to admit that, to both herself and Nino. Far longer than it should have, if she’s being honest with herself.

When they first started dating, it wasn’t actually on purpose. It was the week after Alya’s 16th birthday. The plan had been for all four of them to go to the cinema to see some horror film that she no longer remembers the name of. It was supposed to be a pretty standard hangout, which it was, until Adrien and Marinette both found reasons to back out. Adrien supposedly had a photoshoot and Marinette was apparently given a last-minute shift at the bakery. It was all rather fishy to Alya at the time, but she didn’t think anything of it.

She and Nino had never really hung out without either Marinette or Adrien present. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to hang out without the others, but they’d just never really found occasion to. Of course, it was a little awkward at the start but, they soon found that they had a natural rhythm and that they clicked in a way that they never had before. It wasn’t necessarily in a romantic sense, but there was something there.

After the movie, food seemed like the logical option. Nino suggested that they pay for each other’s food. “I have a very logical reason for this so we’re gonna run this like a lab experiment.” He had said as they headed in the direction of the pizza place opposite the cinema. “Here’s the hypothesis: by paying for each other’s meals, rather than our own, we still have the option to split the bill but we can also still do something nice for the other person. That way I can afford bubble gum tomorrow morning, you can afford coffee tomorrow morning, and we’ll still have paid for something that isn’t for us.”

Alya had readily agreed, as coffee always took priority in her life, and that was that. Nino had walked her home from the bus stop, they’d deliberated over whether or not to hug before eventually settling on a high-five, and then the not-quite-a-date was over. Neither of them really expected anything to happen between them. They were just friends.

The next morning Alya, in what is perhaps still recognised as her most uncharacteristic act, decided to forego her morning coffee from the small café three streets over in favour of buying bubble gum. It was just meant to be something small and nice, to let Nino know that she would be up for hanging out again, if he wanted.

Nino texted her to meet him by the Trocadero. She eventually found him, small-café-three-streets-over-coffee in hand, and the rest was history. She may have fallen a little bit in love with him in that moment. But he is never allowed to know.

“What are you thinking about?” Marinette pokes Alya sharply in the ribs, causing her to jump.

“Nothing important,” Alya hisses in pain, rubbing her side and shooting a glare at Marinette. “Just thinking about the not-quite-date.”

Marinette giggles. “You are so sappy, you know that, right? You get this weird dreamy look in your eye and I swear I heard you sigh at least twice.”

“No way! I’m not sappy, Nino’s the sappy one!” Alya huffs. It’s true; she is the sappy one. Marinette knows it, Alya knows it, they all know it.

“Oh yeah? Well when is you guys’ anniversary, huh?”

“Six days, four hours, and twenty-seven minutes.” Alya mumbles, somewhat embarrassed.

“Wait, you seriously remember –”

“I have a countdown on my phone.”

Marinette raises an amused eyebrow as Alya turns an even brighter shade of red. She leans over and envelops Alya in a hug.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed about it, Al. I think it’s cute.”

Alya laughs. “Thanks, Mari. I just – it’s coming up to five years, you know? And I guess it’s just – I don’t know. I wanna make it more special this year.”

“It’ll be great, Alya. Don’t worry about it. I will do everything in my power to make sure everything goes perfectly. Scout’s honour!” Marinette raises her hand to her head in an overdramatic salute.

“Mari, you were never a Scout.”

“It’s the thought that counts, right?”

[omniswords]

Keep What Remains, Part I [Gladiolus Amicitia/Reader]

"What do you think about holding onto something when you've lost everything else?"

Remember how Gladio mentioned getting a girlfriend during all those years of darkness? Here's how that happened. Spoilers up to Chapter 13 of the game, so proceed with caution!

Alternatively, [It’s Always Sunny Title Card] Gladiolus Gets A Lady

Not my first FFXV fic, but the first one I’ve posted to this account! I also uh. hear tagging people is a thing if that’s okay ;;??? So I’ll tag people whose stuff I’ve been lurking around!! @blindbae​, @cupnoodle-queen​, @louisvuittontrashbags​, @hypaalicious​, @diabolik-trash-heap​, @themissimmortal and @nifwrites​, if this tickles your fancy. Anyway, hope you enjoy! 💕

It started with a book and some morbid curiosity. Because didn’t it always with you? From the womb to the tomb, that was how you were about these things.

To be fair, maybe it was a bit of prejudice on your part as well—maybe not the kind that got people hurt, or worse, but a judgment call was a judgment call, poor or otherwise. You just… weren’t expecting to see some burly hunter who looked like he could probably crush another man treating the pages of a worn paperback like an infant. It was almost paradoxical, how he was perched on a bench with the book cradled in one hand, reading by the glow of a Lestallum streetlight and looking far too absorbed to just be passing the time between bounties. If anything, he looked like a professor in hunter’s clothing. (You could have waxed something poetic about how they weren’t all that different, but your brain was too fried at this time of night for that.)

That was your first mistake. The assumption.

Mistake Number Two was walking past him instead of taking the usual back-alley to your apartment. And Mistake Number Two and a Half was catching sight of the book. Well, truthfully, you couldn’t say you just caught sight of it. It was more like you were outright staring at it, trying to make out the title in the dim light, and the heroic stance of the boy on the cover, and—

And oh, gods. He looked up from the book. He was staring at you. One of the stupidly endearing, curious little things that said, How can I help you? instead of, Do you mind?

So you did the first thing you could think of. You straightened up, and cleared your throat, and took a sudden, burning interest in your shoes. (You never said it was the best thing you could think of. Just the first thing.)

“Um. It’s a good book,” you told him, not sure whether to wince at the way your voice cracked, or the nervous laugh you let out after. Which, well—you could have said something more riveting. But to be fair, you could have said something you know you would have agonized over till your dying breath, so you had to give yourself some credit.

The man didn’t say anything at first, and when you looked back up to question the silence, he was still staring at you. Was the guy trying to intimidate you into explaining yourself? Or had he literally forgotten how to speak? Or oh, oh no, what if he couldn’t talk, or couldn’t hear you? You’d heard stories about that one hunter, an alleged member of the old Crownsguard who they said had gone blind by Leviathan

“You’ve read it before?”

You blinked, snapping yourself back to reality. Or rather, his voice pulled you back, like an anchor or a tether, deep and gravelly and warm enough to ground you again. (Was it Mistake Number Three to let it envelop you that easily?) “Yeah!” Admittedly, you sounded a little more excited than you should have, so you decided to dial it back, awkwardly rubbing your neck in apology. “The whole series, actually. There’s six of them, did you know? They’re… pretty clever, if you pay really close attention to all the myths and stuff. Even the number’s clever, considering… you know… the Six.”

Yeah. So much for dialing it back.

For some blessed reason, he didn’t seem to mind your rambling. In fact, he looked kind of amused, and he sat up straight and closed the book. “Guess I’ll have to look out for the sequels, huh?”

You blurted out your name and a hasty Nice to meet you after a pause that you hoped hadn’t run on too long. “You don’t look like you’re from around here,” you added. “Then again… nobody’s really from around here these days. They just kind of… trickle in.”

The man gave a solemn nod, as if to say he was from a lot of places. Too many places, maybe. Too many thoughts, too. But then he held out his hand, and—had his eyes always been that brilliant a shade of brown? Like amber, almost; you’d never seen anything like them, except in stone. “Gladiolus,” was all he said. “Gladio, if that’s a mouthful.”

It kind of was, but you couldn’t help but give him a smile. “Gladiolus, like the flower? Or Gladiolus, like the weapon?”

Slowly, a grin spread across his face, almost matching yours, as he took your hand and shook it. It nearly smothered yours, warm and firm with years of experience, and he looked almost reluctant when he pulled it away to pat the empty space on the bench in invitation. “Looks can be deceiving, y’know.”

You talked a while longer under the glow of the streetlight, long after people had turned in for the ceaseless night. You told him you were from the southern part of Cleigne, that your family was built on fishing and open air markets, so the bustle of Lestallum was a familiarity that quickly became home. (“So what do you do?” he asked, and let out a single, surprised laugh when you told him you were a tutor.)

In turn, Gladio told you that he was a hunter, as if his entire appearance hadn’t given him away at first glance. The dark clothes, the leather gloves, the greatsword he kept at his side. Even the feathery spread of ink along his arms seemed to precede him; for a moment, you had to wonder just how far the tattoo reached. Still, he went on that it was what he’d spent his days doing since the darkness began six years back, and even before then. Because he could fight, and who was he to sit idly by if he knew he could do something about it? It seemed… noble of him, to put his life down so easily every day. Like he was trained to do it.

“Got a sister who’s a hunter, too,” he said before you could entertain the thought any further. “She’ll be twenty-one soon.”

“And you?”

“Just turned twenty-nine, couple weeks back,” he said, worth enough to mention but not enough to celebrate. Like there was something else twenty-nine-year-olds were supposed to be doing instead of wasting away their lives beating off the byproducts on an indefinite darkness. Somehow a belated Happy Birthday, seemed all too inappropriate, for all the pleasantry behind it.

“Sounds like the hunting thing runs in the family,” you said instead.

“Protection runs in the family,” Gladio replied, almost a murmur, almost like you weren’t meant to hear him. For a flicker of a moment, his hands looked and moved as old and as weathered as the book they held. But he seemed to straighten up again, and added, “You said you’re from southern Cleigne? You might know her. She used to live near there—that old white house at Caem, near the lighthouse? Brown hair, about your height. Big smile.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re Iris’s brother?”

He grinned. “So I can take that as a yes?”

So you talked about Iris, and the weird coincidence of having never run into each other all those years ago. And you probably talked even longer for it, because for some reason it was always easier to talk about other people than about yourself. He told you snippets about their childhood, things that toed the line of embarrassing but wouldn’t warrant a smack if she ever got wind of it. You told him about how her penchant for moogles far outweighed her sense of care for Algebra. (He laughed, and didn’t seem surprised. “Yeah, that never really went away.”)

And then you mentioned that she never did say where she was from, exactly; she just showed up one day, tending to some carrots and a stray cat and announcing that her “haphazard little family” had just come here from Lestallum. “I’d ask, but she sort of… dropped off the face of technology a while back.” You managed a laugh. “Guess now I know why, right?”

Gladio’s laugh matched yours: soft, and short, and almost lifeless. “Maybe it’s a good thing she didn’t.” A pause. “It’s hard, thinking of where we’re from.”

“Would you tell me?”

“You’re still a stranger to me, practically.”

“What if I don’t want to be a stranger to you?”

He stopped, and sat back. And then forward. Back, and forward. Different positions of thinking. How long was he a stranger to this kind of interaction, if he had to stay thinking this long? All those six years? Longer than that? He wasn’t that alone in the world, was he? All that dark. All that quiet. One book, and one sword, to keep him company.

He looked up, out toward the street—the guardrail, the stone spiral staircase that led to the view over the gorge. (Like that meant anything anymore.) “I have a hunt tomorrow,” he finally said, pocketing his book. “One of those iron giants keeps croppin’ up nearby.”

You swore you felt your heart sink into all the boldness you thought you had. “Oh. Right.” Kings would be dead kings. Princes would be vanished princes. Hunters would be hunters, all work and no play. Work logic. You knew it well enough.

He was still staring at the guardrail. Then he nodded toward a white truck close by, opened up in the back with steam rising from the doors. “Afterwards,” he added, “I’ll meet you there.”

He rose to his feet then, patting himself down as if checking for his belongings, and he was grinning again. “Y’know,” he said, “It’s dangerous, walking around at this hour. Can’t in good conscience leave a girl to walk home alone at night.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Gladio, it’s always night.”

His smile only grew wider. “I know.”

———

Gladio didn’t, in good conscience, leave you to walk home alone. In fact, he walked beside you, at a steady, almost languid pace, with his thumbs tucked into his jacket pockets. Duty-bound, almost. Like a guard. Like he’d been bred for it. He absolutely towered next to you—which most people already tended to do, considered how short you were, but he was in a league all his own.

“How… tall are you, anyway?” It was a ridiculous way to break the silence, and you winced at your own impulse. Really rubbing in that good first impression, you were.

Gladio rubbed the back of his neck in thought. “Something like six-six, last I checked.” He must have seen your eyes widen, because he barked out a single, hearty laugh and added, “Yeah. I get that a lot. Iris is kind of a munchkin next to me. Works out, though, whenever we get to hunt together.” He gave a noncommittal shrug, and looked to recede into himself in some strong-and-silent way. Something that said his lack of words wasn’t due to a lack of confidence.

“I meant to ask about that, actually.”

He shot a glance your way. “About what? Iris?”

“About hunting.”

“What, you wanna join?”

“No, nothing like that. It’s just…” You scuffed your heel against the cobblestones and gestured vaguely toward your neck. “Usually hunters have those dog tag things on them. They make a pretty big deal of them. I’ve heard talk about it in town—someone freaked out because they lost theirs one time.” The more you talked, the less of a good idea it seemed to talk. “Do you just, not have one? Or choose not to wear it?”

In response, Gladio reached up to touch his own pendant—a small wooden X. You wondered if it meant anything; they looked awfully similar to some prayer beads you’d seen once. Maybe he was one for prayers as much as he was one for books. Or for stamping out judgment calls made in the middle of the night. “Never really thought to have one made, I guess. Never saw a reason to.”

“Well, what are they for?”

“To be known. Or, I guess, to be remembered by.” His hands curled into loose fists, and his gaze hardened under the intermittent stream of the streetlamps and house lights. “Kinda messed up, isn’t it,” he said, “that those things have more value to you when you’re not even around to take it in.”

Now you really knew that talking had been a bad idea. A quiet apology tumbled from your lips, and you took solace in the sound of your footfalls, the ebbing conversations of those you passed by. Gladio took his usual pace at your side, and you couldn’t help but feel his gaze on you every so often. You didn’t even have to look. All you had to do was feel.

He followed you to your doorstep without another word, apparently comfortable in all that city quiet, and made sure you found your apartment without a hitch. It was… strangely relieving, knowing someone wanted you home safe. Even if it was someone you’d only met a few hours ago. Had it really been hours?

“For what it’s worth,” you murmured as you turned the key in its lock, “I can think of two people who’d want to remember you. Maybe value you while you’re still here. That’s not so messed up, is it?”

“Who’s the second person?” he asked.

While your keys still dangled in the deadbolt, a smile crept across your face. All kinds of knowing. All kinds of well-meaning. All kinds of promising. “Good night, Gladio,” was all you said, and you could have sworn you saw a spark in his eyes, wide and near-amber in all that light, before the door closed behind you.

———

He wasn’t there when you got to the bench the next night.

Of course, logically that probably meant that the hunt was taking longer than usual—you’d heard talk from hunter who stopped by about how nasty the jobs could be sometimes, and you’d seen plenty of daemons on the frantic drive up from the south. But there was still a crestfallen, pessimistic, anxious part of you that thought that maybe he’d forgotten about you. Or that the whole thing was a joke. Because really, what could he have possibly seen in you, aside from an association with his no-longer-a-kid kid sister? (And was that even worth it?) Of course he was out of your league. Of course he was helping polite conversation along, or just chatting you up to prove that he could.

And yet, here you were, with your nose in a book of poetry, sitting on the bench with your legs crossed. Stupidly wishing those thoughts would recognize their own ugliness and disappear. Stupidly hoping you’d look up and find him casually towering over you, one eyebrow raised in curiosity as he tried to read upside-down. Even the fact that you were entertaining that specific of a mental image seemed too absurd to bear.

When was the last time you were even this hung up on a boy? Or hung up at all? You didn’t want to think about it. Instead, you hunched over with the book in your hands and your elbows digging into your knees, reading the same poem over and over. Like this, it was only a swimming together of words, instead of a string of meaning.

You lost track of just how long you stayed like that, but soon enough, you caught a figure shifting out of the corner of your eye, and you looked up. Do you mind? instead of Can I help you? And instantly regretted it.

Because it was Gladio standing there, bending over with his hands in the pockets of his green leather jacket, peeking at the cover of your book with a knowing grin. Sure, it wasn’t the exact image you had in mind, and sure, maybe he was poking a little fun at you for the night before. But you couldn’t deny the relief that seeped into your blood—squeezed in between receding anxiety and the guilt at every ugly thought that had crossed your mind before.

“Can’t in good conscience leave a girl to walk home alone at night,” you teased, snapping the book shut and tucking it into your bag, “but you can in good conscience leave her to wonder if you stood her up?”

“Ouch.” Gladio laughed. “Guess now’s as good a time as any to get your number then, huh?”

You probably would have rolled your eyes if you hadn’t been so mesmerized by how absently he managed to tie his hair into a half-ponytail, fingers catching along his beard on the way down. “Of course.”

He grinned. “Of course.” He didn’t seem like one for dramatic or flourishing motions, but here he was, offering his arm to you in a bow, one eyebrow raised in invitation. “Ready to get going? Can’t keep a lady waiting any longer than she already has, y’know.”

It shouldn’t have made you giggle like you were back in your teenage years, peeking around corners and sighing wistfully against rows of locker doors. But it did, and you could have sworn you saw Gladio’s eyes light up all the more for it. You might have thought this was something he did every day, or at least every opportunity he got, and so easily too, if not for that. Slowly, you got to your feet, taking his arm and looking everywhere but at him; it was hard enough reconciling the pliancy of his words to the solidity of his muscle in your grip. The flower and the weapon, all at once. “Guess I’ll have to oblige,” you told him. “At least for Iris.”

Gladio was still smiling. “At least for Iris.”

Two ordinary people standing on the outskirts of a restlessly sleepy city, like you stood at the edge of the world. Walking in streetlight like a tightrope between reality and infinity. Two almost-friends, arm-in-arm, arguing over whether eggs in ramen should be scrambled or poached, or whether a caesura meant more than an enjambment. One hand slipping down to take another without thought, a foot falling out of line after a particularly hearty shove, and a thousand touches exchanged with every look.

That was all this piece of night gave you.

For now, that was all you needed from it.