#a silent voice/ cesar

[sixty-silver-wishes]

if you’ve never heard of the youtube caligari musical, now you’ve heard of the youtube caligari musical

I have such mixed feelings on it . it’s surprisingly high quality for what it is. especially the lyric writing and instrumentation. but it also does several things I personally do not like- ie. giving caligari an actual backstory, creating a massive plot hole by having him control cesare with a potion (why does he need a somnambulist then?), and the dreaded “cesare falls in love with jane” interpretation which no adaptation seems to be able to escape (and uh . if you like these things that’s okay but I have my own reasons for disliking them)

but what’s frustrating about it is I can’t stop listening to it. there are like three songs that constantly get stuck in my head

also the guy who made it made these really weird animatics by photomanipulating screenshots of the film and it’s bizarre. truly a sight to behold

but like . it also has whatever this is. so uh. yeah

[waitimcomingtoo]

One For Us

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Synopsis: Peeta gets upset when you suggest getting married to appease the Capitol

Masterlist

“We could get married.”

Everyone stopped debating strategies for getting President Snow to believe your love story and looked up at you upon your suggestion. You felt self conscious with all the eyes on you so you looked to Peeta for help. You thought he’d agree with you but he was just staring at you with an almost hurt expression.

“What?” He asked you in a quiet voice.

“You said we’re gonna be on this train forever anyway, right? We’d have to get married eventually. We might as well do it right now to convince Snow how in love we are. We could make a huge deal of the proposal and the dress and cake. Don’t Capital people love all that kind of stuff?” You asked Haymitch.

“She’s right.” Haymitch agreed. “A wedding between the star crossed winners might be the one thing in more demand than the games. If we spin a story about the wedding being canceled due to the games, maybe the outrage would be enough to get the Capitol to change their minds about sending you two back in there.”

“Yeah. And we could go on Cesar’s show and say that we were so in love that we couldn’t wait any longer and had to get engaged. We can make a whole big thing of it. That should be enough to convince Snow that we’re in love, right?” You asked. Peeta blinked a few times and let out a short dry laugh.

“Fine. I don’t care. Let’s just do it.” Peeta sighed as he got up to leave. You frowned and watched him walk about without giving you so much as a glance in your direction. You looked at Haymitch and Effie and held up your hands with confusion.

“What’s his problem?”

“He’s probably just sore that he wasn’t the one who came up with the brilliant idea.” Haymitch replied and gave you a proud pat on the back.

“Oh my goodness. You fools.” Effie huffed and shook her head. “That’s not why he’s upset.”

“Then why? I’m just trying to help. It’s not like he came up with anything.” You said and folded your arms like a child out of annoyance over Peeta’s disapproval of your idea.

“He’s upset because this is not how he wanted this to happen.” Effie said as she looked at only you.

“So the idea of marrying me is so awful to him that he had to storm out of the room?” You grumbled.

“No, child. He’s not upset that he has to marry you. He’s upset that it’s only counterfeit.” Effie explained with a tight smile. You stopped being angry with Peeta and took a moment to process what she was saying.

“I’m gonna go talk to him.” You decided and got up to follow him. You found Peeta in the back of the train, staring out the window with his chin in his hand.

“Hey.” You said quietly as you sat down near him.

“Hi.” Peeta replied without taking his eyes off the window.

“I’m sorry about that back there. I should’ve talked to you before telling Haymitch about getting married. I didn’t think it would upset you.”

“It’s okay.” He said quietly. “It’s a great idea.”

“You hate it.” You laughed nervously and wished he’d look at you. A smile tugged on Peeta’s lips and he nodded his head.

“Yeah.” He admitted. “I do.”

“But why? Why do you not want to get married?” You asked. Peeta stayed silent and turned his head so that you couldn’t see his face. You got up to sit beside him and put your hand in his leg to silently comfort him until he was able to speak. He looked down at your hand before looking up and wiping his face with his sleeve.

“I do want to get married. I always have.” He admitted. “I always wanted to find a girl that I love and could be genuine companions with. And to not just get married because it was convenient or beneficial to us both, but because we were best friends and wanted to be with each other forever. So we’d take vows to promise each other that. And then have a big family and live a quiet but happy life.”

“Oh. I see. Marrying me would prevent you from finding her.” You nodded in understanding. It stung you a little to hear him talk about the life he dreamed of with someone else but you couldn’t place why you felt that way. Peeta finally turned his head to look at you and had a sad smile on his face.

“What?” You wondered.

“You know, when I was little, I always saw myself marrying you.” He admitted.

“You…you did?” You asked with a surprised smile.

“I did.” He nodded. “I liked you from the very first time I saw you. So I went home and told my mom I was gonna marry you. I was only six.”

“What’d she say?”

“She asked if you were the coal miners girl and I said yes. Then she told me she almost married your dad.”

“What? My dad?” You were taken aback and pointed to yourself.

“Yeah. He gave her a ring and everything. But it didn’t work out. I don’t remember why. Then she told me she hopes I don’t have the same fate as she did.” He said with a dry laugh.

“That’s too bad for them. But I think it’s cute you had a schoolboy crush on me.” You told him, making his cheeks adorn with a rosy glow.

“Trust me. It was more than a schoolboy crush. You had a hold on me for years. I had this whole plan to ask you to marry me after high school. I was gonna propose that we start a business together. I could sell my bread and you could sell game. I was going to get us a cow and chickens so we could save money on supplies. And we could build a house near the forest so you don’t have to travel far when you went to hunt. We’d be poor but we’d be happy. I was gonna tell you all of that when I proposed, by the way.”

“That’s a really good plan, Peeta. I had no idea you thought that all through.” You smiled softly as a sadness weighed on your chest. He had all these plans that would never be realized because of the cards he had been dealt. His sweet fantasy of a wholesome future together was going to be replaced with fake weddings and bloodshed.

“Yeah, I did. I really though it would happen too. That’s why I stormed out earlier. You suggested we get married and just sounded so cavalier. Like, it was just one more thing we could do to please Snow. And I guess it made me think of my plans for the future and how I was never going to get any of them. So I got upset. It wasn’t anything against you.” He assured you with a sad smile.

“I understand. I just thought you didn’t want to marry me. I didn’t know you had all those plans. I’m sorry they won’t be happening.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry too. You and I got reaped just a few months before I was gonna ask you. And I haven’t recognized my life since then. But before all of this, I really thought it was gonna happen. Given that you said yes, of course. I even told my mother about my plan. She gave me this.” Peeta said and pulled necklace out from underneath his shirt. On a leather cord was a dainty silver diamond ring.

“Oh my gosh, Peeta. t’s beautiful.” You gasped and leaned forward to gently touch it with your fingertips. Peeta gulped at how close you were and felt his face heat up again.

“Your dad gave it to her.” He told you. “He found that diamond himself when he was working.”

“I can’t believe she kept it all these years. She could’ve made a fortune with this.”

“That’s what I said. But she said it was worth more than any amount they could offer her.”

“She sounds like a romantic. I see where you get it from.” You laughed softly and nudged him a little.

“Yeah. I’m a lot like her.”He said with a timid smile as he looked into your eyes. You stared at each other for a moment and you felt an ache in your bones for him. He was still so kind and gentle despite what you’d gone through together and the impending doom that loomed over your heads. He still wore the diamond ring his mom gave him and credited his kindness to her. Your mind began to picture the future Peeta had painted for you and you felt homesick for a place you’d never been to. You wished you could jump from the train and go live the life he described, but that could never happen.

“I wish we didn’t end up here.” You said in a quiet voice. You feared that if you spoke any louder, you’d burst into tears.

“I know. Me too. I wish things were different. I wish that I was asking you to marry me because I decided it was time. And I wish…” He trailed off as he started to get emotional at the thought of the life he would never have.

“You wish what?” You asked calmly and rubbed his arm to comfort him.

“I wish I knew you were saying yes because you meant it.” He admitted. “Not because you have to.”

You were both quiet for a while after that confession. A silence that wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, just very heavy, sat among you as you looked in opposite directions.

“I would’ve said yes.” You said after a beat.

“What?”

“If you had asked me. After high school. And told me about the cows and chickens and business. I would have told you yes.” You explained with a timid smile. Peeta stared at you for a minute to see if you were joking or not.

“No you wouldn’t have. You didn’t even know me back then.” He laughed dismissively.

“Yes I did. I knew you were kind and strong and hardworking. And now that I know you better, I know that you’re funny and resilient and thoughtful and kinda grumpy before you’ve had tea in the morning and not the worst to look at. What more could I ask for?”

“Not the worst to look at?” He cracked a smile.

“Come on. You know you’re handsome. Don’t make me say.” You rolled your eyes and he blushed once again.

“I would not use that word to describe myself. Especially not with Finnick running around.” He mumbled.

“Well I happen to think you’re very handsome. And the wife is always right. You need to know that if we’re going to get married. So shut up.” You said and playfully smacked his leg.

“Don’t tell me to shut up or else you’re not getting a ring.” Peeta played along.

“Oh, I’m getting that ring.” You insisted. “And I get to name all the cows. You can do what you want with the chicken but the cows are mine. And I’m giving them last names too. Fancy ones.”

You and Peeta both laughed at the dumb joke and you felt yourself relax. Even if your lives weren’t going to go the way you’d hoped, at least you could look forward to these moments of sweetness with him.

“Would you really have said yes?” Peeta asked in a small voice once your laughter died down.

“It depends. How would you have asked me?”

“I had a plan for that too, actually. I was going to pick you a bouquet of wild flowers. The ones that grow by the river bank. I know you like those.”

“I do like those. The orange and purple ones.”

“Yeah. Those.” He smiled. “I was gonna bring them to you and then get down on one knee. Like this.”

“That’s very old fashioned of you.” You couldn’t help but blush as Peeta got down on one knee in front of you.

“I know. But that’s all I know how to be. An old fashioned romantic. I even practiced how to get the ring out with one hand.” Peeta said as he struggled to get the ring from around his neck.

“You didn’t practice very hard.” You teased.

“Shh. Yes I did. I’m just nervous.” He laughed and finally got the ring free.

“Don’t be.” You told him. “It’s just you and me.”

“I was gonna explain how I got the ring. But I already told you that so pretend I was proposing then.” He said and waved his hand, making you laugh.

“Okay. I will. Oh, wow. My father’s ring? That he gave to your mother? Meaning we were almost siblings? How romantic.” You dramatically played along to humor him.

“Hush now. I’m trying to remember my plan. Then I was gonna tell you…” He trailed off again and a sheepish smile broke through on his face. You could see him losing his confidence but didn’t want him to stop.

“Tell me what?” You asked quietly and took his hand.

“I was going to say that you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. And that I’ve seen a million sunsets since bakers have to get up before dawn but not one of them could compare to you. I would’ve said that you enchanted me from the first day I saw you and every day since. And that to know you is to be in awe of you. I would have told you that you were the strongest person I know and if you’d let me, I’d help you bear some of the weight you have on your shoulders.”

“Keep going.” You whispered and held his hand to your chest.

“Oh, okay, um. I was gonna tell you that I know you don’t love me yet but you could learn to. And that I would make it easy for you. I would promise to be the best partner you could ask for and to love you at every turn, no matter what gets thrown our way. I’d promise to wash your hair in the sink the way your mama does and build you a desk so that you can write letters to your family. And then I’d ask you to make me the happiest man alive and please-“

“Yes.” You cut him off as a single tear slipped down your face.

“Yes?”

“Yes.” You repeated. “I will marry you.”

“You will?” He smiled in disbelief as his eyes searched yours for signs of insincerity.

“I will. I want to. I’d love to. I love…” You trailed off and he sucked in a sharp breath in anticipation of what you were about to say.

“I love you.” You said finally. “And if I’m on this train forever, at least I have you with me. That means it’s going to be okay.”

“I love you too.” Peeta smiled at those long awaited words hitting his ears. You pulled him into a long kiss despite no cameras being around. But you both knew this moment wasn’t for the cameras. It was just for the two of you. When you pulled away, Peeta fumbled around with the ring.

“Sorry. My hands are shaking.” He was embarrassed to admit as he tried to steady them long enough to untie the chord around the ring.

“It’s okay. Take your time.” You assured him and he eventually slipped the leather chord off. He looked you in the eyes for one last confirmation and you nodded enthusiastically. With that, Peeta slid the song onto your finger and then leaned down to kiss your knuckles. You laughed at the gesture before cupping his face and bringing him into a kiss. Peeta got off his knee but never broke the kiss. A sudden knock at the door made you jump apart. Peeta sat on the opposite end of the couch while you smoothed your hair and wiped your face.

“Come in.” You called out and Haymitch walked in.

“Hey. I just wanted to check in on you guys after our conversation back there.” He said.

“We’re fine. We were just talking about the engagement. Peeta said we could go on Cesar’s show and he could propose then.” You lied to Haymitch with a smile.

“All right. Works for me. I’ll let Effie know.” Haymitch gave you a thumbs up and then left the room. When he was gone, Peeta looked at you curiously to see why you lied.

“We still have to fake one for the Capital, but this I’ll remember this as our real engagement.” You explained, making him smile fondly.

“One for us, one for them.” He replied and you nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. One for us, one for them.”

Tag list 🏷️

@ilovetoomanymen @kittimbo @sipsthecoffee @ohmyhuenings @ilykitwalker

@mayemperess @scenesofobx

@basicb1tchboy @planetevermore @bellasfavbisexual @kochothehoe

[marleyybluu]

Oscar x pregnant!reader

Wc: 1.9k

warnings: daddy issues, use of OMB scenes so spoilers I guess, sad Spooky, shitty ending cus my attention span cut out

"No, no, no! You can not put down two draw fours!" Yn shouted at Cesar while the two dabbled in an intense game of UNO. Cesar chuckled waving his one card in her face. "You're just mad because you're losing." He bragged. Though it was confirmed she would never admit it, she quickly pouted and placed her hand on her stomach, he chuckled shaking his head knowing the card that she was about to play. "I'm gonna tell your niece or nephew you didn't let their mommy win."

Her boyfriend Spooky could be heard letting out a bellyful laugh from down the hall, he emerged from his room making his way toward them where they sat around the table not too far from the living room. "Mamita, you can't say that every time you don't get your way." She stuck out her tongue. "I can and I will for the remaining six months."

He rolled his eyes and planted a kiss on the top of her head. "Fine," She reluctantly picked up eight more cards just for Cesar to dramatically slam his last one on the table. He stood up took the last swig of his beer and rested the empty bottle on the table, he was next to kiss her head before grabbing his things and heading out. "I'll see you guys later, I'm with Monse if you need me."

"Have fun." She called out. The door closed and the house was once again silent, Yn gathered the cards and packed them nicely back into the box they came in. She heard the sound of the front door opening and assumed it was Cesar, she said "What'd you forget knucklehead?" But frowned when she was met with their father, Ray. A few days ago the older gentleman had found himself across from the traphouse, Cesar panicked about a stranger just stalking outside so Spooky went to investigate, and with Yn's nosey ass at the window, she noticed Spooky's body language and he was not happy.

Spooky never spoke about his dad, maybe once, but that was it. She could tell he had resentment in his heart for that man, he was a stranger and for him to pop back up after all these years wasn't ideal for anyone in this situation. YN had to admit it was nice seeing Cesar happy and hearing him talk about all the things they were going to do and how much they had to catch up on but judging by the look on Ray's face right in front of her... those plans would never set in motion.

She pitied him a half-smile before dodging into the kitchen. Spooky sat in the background on the couch observing the cold interaction, internally smiling that she would be on his side no matter the minor details that she knew. Ray disappeared into one of the rooms, Spooky was curious as to what he was there for but was brought out of it when he was called to the kitchen. He got up and followed her voice, she was desperately trying to reach the third shelf and was failing miserably, usually, she'd grab a chair but with a baby inside she was more cautious of what she did.

"Can you grab a plate for me papito?"

"Of course, baby."

She squealed and applauded the small gesture as he handed the plate over to her. "Thank you." She blew him a kiss but he wanted a real one, his hand snaking around her waist he pulled her in tightly. Her hands ran up his neck and landed under his jawline. Their lips touched, fitting like pieces of a puzzle, melting together like it was the first time. She could feel his hands slide a little further down, she gasped at the hard squeeze he delivered she pulled back smacking his chest. "Why can't I have one little innocent kiss?"

"That question is what got you pregnant in the first place." He joked gently pressing his hand on her little belly. Yn shooed him off. Oscar laughed and left her alone only to return to the main area and see Ray with his duffle bag on top of the table packing his clothes up. "Finally cleaning up your mess?" He asked. Ever since he arrived it'd practically become a pigsty, his girl often complaining that she wasn't some maid for a grown-ass man, especially one she had no relation to. Ray avoided eye contact as he answered. "I'm leaving, think I've caused enough drama."

Leaving. All he did was leave, run away from his problems, and scram when things got serious. It wasn't the first time Oscar experienced it but there was no doubt that it still hurt, he felt himself shrink into that little kid again, watching the man who was supposed to be there for him vanish, the man who was supposed to teach him how to become one disappear without a trace leaving him and Cesar alone to fend for themselves.

"Good," He responded. "You tell Cesar your plan?"

There was a moment of silence, Ray had stopped packing and sighed making eye contact with his oldest. "I'll tell him when I get to Bakersfield, there's a guy up there who can help me out... help you out too-"

Spooky had turned cold, that scowl plastered on his face, the boiling hate flashing in his eyes. "I don't need help, I got everything I need."

Ray let out an amused chuckle. "The Santos? That girl?" Oscar took a step forward, fists balled up, father or not he would put down anyone that disrespected his girl. She was his home, his family, she was everything that he needed. "Her name is Yn, and she let you stay with us, not me... if it were up to me you'd be out on the street with the rest of the stray dogs."

Little did they know they had an audience for this performance, not too far off Yn had poked her head from the kitchen she had stopped what she was doing the minute she heard their voices. "I hope they don't sell you out, I hope she's good to you because one day all that love you think you're getting from them is gonna be gone."

"Ray." He warned. "This street shit isn't the life man, you don't have to stay here, go and make something of yourself."

Oscar's eyes softened, and he began to nod in agreement. "Thanks, Papa, you're right. I could be president or a fucking astronaut, maybe even a movie star right? Because I had such a great fucking role model!"

"I had a shitty dad too, mijo," Ray's tone was so nonchalant when he said it and something about it was making Yn's skin crawl it just sounded like he didn't care. "But you gotta let that rage go."

It took everything for her not toa put in her two cents. How do you let the rage from constant and consistent disappointment go? She could tell Spooky had this overbearing feeling that he was a failure, that he failed Cesar, failed the Santos and even failed her-- so how was he just supposed to let that go?

Yn had thought the fire between them had died down, that Ray had left and Spooky was just standing there disassociating at the fact that he was in his twenties and still being abandoned. But when she brought herself into frame the two of them had gone, their muffled argument had moved outdoors. Her feet carried her to the front door, where she stood behind the screen watching it go down from a distance.

"Everything bad that's ever happened in my life is because of you! You're gonna crush Cesar the same way you crushed me!" His voice weakened, almost cracking like he was fighting to keep that little boy inside. Ray was already at the end of the path, one foot almost on the black tarmac road, he dropped his bag and turned around to face Spooky. "You never wrote to me... you didn't call, you didn't even visit not once! Did you even think about me?"

YN placed her hand over her heart, she wanted nothing more than to drag him inside and coddle him for all he's been through but he needed to let this out he'd been holding it in for far too long. She looked as Ray walked back toward Spooky.

"Oscar-" He began but Spooky shut it down. "You wanna know the worst part about not having a father? I had to be a father to my brother without having been a son first!" He sniffled. "I have a girl in there who loves me, who taught me how to love since I didn't have you or mama as examples... she's having my baby and I'm scared that I'm gonna end up like you!"

Oscar broke, completely shattered. Yn didn't think there'd be a day when she heard her partner weeping from the deep sadness that he felt, the sadness that was cloaked in anger. Ray didn't say anything, he pulled Oscar in for a hug and he resisted at first but once again his inner child betrayed him and he loosened a bit returning the embrace and they stayed like that for a while. Oscar buried his head in his father's shoulder, nothing was said, it was a bittersweet and brief moment before that rage entered his system again. That wall reappeared in seconds.

He wasn't little Oscar Diaz anymore he was back to Spooky who aggressively shoved his father off of him. "Take your shit and go, make sure I don't see you here again."

And just like that, he was gone again. Spooky turned around with a pout on his face, he stopped at the front door seeing Yn through the screen. "Did you eat?" Funny that even in his obvious time of need he was still worried about her. She shook her head, stretched out her hand to his and gently pulled him inside. Once the door closed the tears that he had just soaked back up were released once again. Yn pulled him over to the couch, sat him down and then took her place beside him.

He fell apart in her arms. "I fucking hate him." She rubbed his back. "All he does is fucking leave me... what did I do?"

"Ay! You didn't do anything papito, he's just an asshole."

"Am I not good enough?"

She frowned. "You are more than enough my love, I promise you. You are more than enough for me, for Cesar and for the baby. You did a great job raising him and you will do an even better one raising ours."

He lifted his head from where it rested on her shoulder, she swiped her thumb across his cheeks to wipe his tears. "How are you so sure?"

"You already do enough for the baby and they're not even here. You make sure I'm eating enough, you make sure I'm relaxed. I wish you could've seen your face when I told you." Now she was tearing up. "I couldn't have picked a better person to make a family with."

He softly smiled. "I love you."

"Duh." She sarcastically answered which received a decent chuckle. "I love you too, we're good okay? I'm not going anywhere."

"I know." He mumbled. She smiled and pulled him in for a kiss. "Let's eat, yeah?"

"Yeah."

I just felt like writing something kind of sad. idk why.

for the Pedro girlies im working on Truth or Drink3

for the Rio girlies, working on The Nanny 3

trying not to burn tf out lol just put me down at this point.

if you liked this fic feel free to like this fic, reblogs and comments are appreciated.

peace and love.

[cynic-spirit]

The Partner

Steve and Bucky were meeting with a new partner, another mobster named Ivanov. They had just finished negotiations, and the atmosphere had shifted from tense business discussions to more relaxed, casual conversation. Ivanov leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smirk on his face as he sipped his drink.

Just then, Yn entered the room. As always, she walked straight to Bucky, her presence commanding immediate attention. Without hesitation, she greeted him with a kiss, her lips brushing his with a tenderness that momentarily softened his usual stern expression.

Ivanov, watching the exchange with a curious gleam in his eye, leaned forward and made a comment, his tone dripping with amusement. "You know, she doesn't realize how powerful I am. A woman like that should know her place."

The room went silent, the casual conversation halting abruptly. The easy-going atmosphere evaporated, replaced by a palpable tension. Bucky's jaw tightened, and his eyes flashed with anger, but before he could respond, Yn's demeanor changed.

Bucky recognized the shift immediately. Her posture straightened, and her gaze sharpened. What he referred to as her "formidable" side had emerged.

Yn took a seat comfortably, her movements measured and deliberate. She crossed her legs, her calm and composed exterior belying the intensity that lay beneath. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her to speak.

"Mr. Ivanov, I might not know much about power in the way you understand it, but I can tell a good story. Something from history that I find fascinating."

The room, already tense, grew even quieter. Everyone listened intently as Yn spoke.

"Let me tell you about Cesare Borgia, a man consumed by his quest for power. In the early 1500s, Cesare used his father, Pope Alexander VI’s influence to dominate Italy through cunning and brutality. He manipulated and eliminated rivals, consolidating his power without restraint."

Ivanov 's smirk faltered, his eyes narrowing as he listened.

"However," Yn continued, "his obsession with power led to his downfall. When his father died, Cesare lost his key ally. The new pope opposed him, and his enemies rose against him. Stripped of his power, he was captured and died in obscurity."

Bucky watched Yn with a mix of admiration and awe. Her calm, measured tone and the intensity in her eyes made it clear she was not to be underestimated.

"Cesare's relentless pursuit of dominance blinded him to the need for stability and alliances," Yn said, her gaze unwavering. "In our own lives, we must use power responsibly, understanding that true strength lies in restraint and respect for others. By treating those around us with kindness and empathy, we can avoid the pitfalls of unchecked ambition."

Ivanov was speechless, his earlier bravado completely gone. The rest of the room was equally silent, everyone taken aback by Yn's unexpected but poignant lesson.

Bucky felt a surge of pride and a touch of amusement. He knew she had left a significant impression. He glanced around the room, seeing the stunned expressions on his associates' faces.

Yn removed her glasses with a measured, deliberate motion, placing them on the table. This simple act made the others exchange knowing glances, recognizing the shift in her demeanor.

"Power does not corrupt men," she added, her voice firm. "But only fools who keep displaying it, thus reducing the command it has."

The room seemed to shrink around Ivanov, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat, suddenly unable to maintain eye contact with Yn. Her words had cut through his bravado, leaving him exposed.

The silence was thick with tension, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Yn's gaze never wavered, her presence commanding and authoritative.

Bucky could see the discomfort in Ivanov 's eyes, a stark contrast to the confidence he had shown earlier. It was clear that Yn had not only made her point but had done so in a way that left no room for argument.

The others, still processing what had just happened, felt a mixture of admiration and respect for Yn. Bucky's heart swelled with pride, knowing that she had, once again, shown her formidable intellect and strength.

Finally, Ivanov mumbled, "I see your point," though his voice lacked its earlier conviction. Yn simply nodded, her message delivered with precision and impact.

Yn's gaze remained steady, her voice smooth yet sharp. "I know you do. You seem like an intelligent man, not falling into the same trenches as Cesare Borgia did."

She took a moment to let her words sink in before continuing, "It was, however, nice to meet you."

With that, Yn walked calmly to the bar, where she poured herself a glass of water. Her demeanor was poised and composed, a stark contrast to the charged atmosphere in the room. The others remained silent, clearly taken aback by the gravity of her words and the ease with which she had dismantled Ivanov ’s bravado.

As she sipped her water, the room was filled with a palpable respect for Yn’s ability to handle the situation with such grace and authority. Bucky watched her with a mixture of admiration and deep affection, knowing that her strength and intellect were unmatched.

"Well said, doll," he thought to himself. "You certainly know how to make an impact."

Ivanov glanced at Bucky with a smirk and asked, “So she’s your girl?”

Bucky’s chest swelled with pride as he replied, “No, Ivanov , actually I am her man.”

The room erupted in light-hearted chuckles, the tension from earlier melting away. Bucky’s statement, delivered with genuine affection, softened the atmosphere and highlighted the deep respect he had for Yn. The others, amused and supportive, shared knowing smiles, appreciating the bond between Bucky and Yn

As Ivanov exited the room, the door closing behind him, Bucky could no longer contain the swell of pride and admiration he felt for Yn. Without a second thought, he pulled her close and sealed his feelings with a passionate kiss.

[axel-1996scream]

Pov: You hooked up with cesar, while he and monse were broken up.

"I'll kill them!" Monse yelled as she stormed down the street towards the santos house, with Ruby and Jamal trailing behind her. "Monse, stop and calm down for a minute!" Ruby yelled as he quickly walked behind the curly haired girl, trying to convince her to stop. "Yeah, c'mon! Don't go messing with y/n, Do you know what sad eyes would do to us if he knew you were threatening his (brother/sister/sibling)!" Jamal added in, with a scared expression for what the santo would do to him and his friends if he were to find out. "Monse!" Yells ruby as the said girl walks up to the santos house.

"Where's y/n!" She demands spooky and a few other santos. "What do you want with my (brother/sister/sibling)." Both Jamal and ruby turned around facing the voice of the male, seeing sad eyes stare down at them with an intimidating stare. "Nothing, She was just mistaken!" Ruby says as he and jamal both grab monse and pull her away from the santos house. "Monse, please just drop it." Jamal begged as he kept looking back towards the santos house out of fear. "No, their dead." Monse says as she walks angrily down the street but immediately stops once she sees y/n walking on the opposite sidewalk, distracted on their phone. "Y/n!" *She yells getting the said person's attention as she storms across the street towards them, while ruby calls cesar. Telling him to hurry and come before it escalates. "Mm, Monse?" Y/n pockets their phone and stops walking and stares at the brunette girl with a bored expression. "Let me guess, this is about cesar?" They questioned bluntly. "Damm right." Monse replied as she stared angrily at the person in front of her. "Look mons, You and him weren't together. Cesar was free bait." They said while shrugging their shoulders "I don't know what you expected, you broke up with him. Did you think he'd wait until you wanted him back? No, he went and got with someone else." Monse goes to reply but gets interrupted as a voice yells out.

"Monse!" Cesar yells as he rushes over standing in-between monse and y/n "Monse, calm down please." Monse scoffs as she barely spares cesar a glance, as she turns her attention back to y/n. "It was a temporary break up! You kno-" She gets cut off as y/n interrupts her. "Temporary or not, You weren't together. He was single, aka free bait. So I took it, you can't really think that he would wait for you like some fairytale?" Y/n looks at cesar with an amused expression. "Does she know about you having sex with that girl at the diner?" They ask with an amused smirk, you look back at monse. "Did he tell you how he fucked her right after his shift, while you both were together?" Monse immediately snaps her head towards cesar and starts going off on him, y/n watches silently as jamal and ruby stare shocked at the new information. "Oops, was she not supposed to know?" Y/n laughs lightly, and he looks at cesar "I have to go, see you later" He winks and then walks away smirking to himself as he hears monse freaking out.

Axel- I tried 😭 sorry if it sucked, this is my first ever story😅.

Hope u enjoy tho! Thx for reading :)

[seduzist]

a lil blurb of hcs of being katniss’ makeup artist for the interviews n stuff??😋

this is not hcs but hope you like it anon lol 💓

katniss couldn’t stop moving in the chair, she was so nervous and that was obvious, who wouldn’t be? about to make the five minutes interview that can be the difference between life or death in the arena. and, somehow, the soft brush on her face feels soothing, or maybe it was just your voice.

“you have a very pretty face, katniss.” you said, blushing her cheeks a little, focused on your work.

katniss had listened this about a hundred times this last week, with all the makeup artists and stylists that dressed her, but at your comment, she couldn’t help but let out a little laugh.

“what?”

“look at you, you’re more than gorgeous.” she smiled, seconds later recognizing what she just said, in such a natural way that she felt shy after.

“you’re much prettier.” you said, katniss rolled her eyes, she wanted to tell you that you were much prettier than her, in ways that she was doubting her own feelings, but she remained silent, letting you finish w/ her.

when you finished, you take a good look at her, staring at her beautiful blue eyes, until you’ve listened the voice of cesar flickerman announcing the tribute of the 11 district, knowing that katniss would be the next one and she was a nervous mess, you took her hand.

“i know you have your mockingjay, but if you want to, i could give you extra luck.” she looked at your face in confusion until you put your hand on her cheek.

“i-i want it, yes.” you could see she did her best to not stutter.

your lips met in a slow kiss, you tasted mint in her mouth and her body relaxed a little, losing some tension off her shoulders, she finally stayed quiet in her chair while you gave her a good luck kiss.

[l0vergirlatheart]

Can I request the jealousy reactions from the Victims of Mandela Catalogue? I read your other post of victims reacting to receiving affection my heart just absolutely soared. If it’s too complicated, don’t do it. :]

HOLY SHIT MY FIRST REQUEST!!! HIHIHI<333

ofcofc, if it's on my masterlist then I'll def. write it <3 love the victims frfr

also ty for the compliments, got me melting over here💕

c.w // jealousy (obv..), d/ckhead (?) in mark's part ngl, also really oblivious reader

JEALOUS MUCH?

start under cut.

MARK HEATHCLIFF

look at the goofy lil skrunkly

he doesn't get jealous easily

or in general

but...

if you're skipping or canceling hangouts with him just to see someone else constantly...

well, you'll see--

"Hey (Y/N)!" Mark called out behind you. You'd been walking around with (?), and he just happened to be close by.

"Hey Mark." You greeted with a smile as he jogged up to be by your side.

"Who's this?" He asked, pointing at (?).

"Ah! This is (?), my new friend! We've been hanging out a lot!" You exclaimed, and Mark nodded, smiling. But then, (?) locked arms with you and leaned into your side.

"Yeah, me and (Y/N) have been hanging out pretty much everyday this month, only besides the short 2 days when she was hanging out with you." (?) said, with a condescending smirk on their face as they stared down at Mark.

"..I see." He turned to look at you, "Is this the one who keeps having you cancel the hangouts?"

"I don't force (Y/N) to do anything, I think they just like a little better than you--" (?) started.

"I'm sorry? I don't like any of my friends more than the other!! You're all my friends, so I like you all equally!! Please don't pick another fight, (?).." You interjected. (?) just rolled their eyes and looked back at Mark.

"We've got somewhere to be right now, so goodbye." (?) said turning around and attempting to take you with them.

Mark grabbed you other arm softly and pulled you out of (?)'s arm lock, and silently lead you two away from (?).

yeah..

ya'll just left (?) in the middle of nowhere

oh well

skill issue

CESAR TORRES

go homosexual alternate go!!

yeah he's technically an alternate the entire timeline so...

he's one here too

since alternates don't usually feel, well, feelings

jealousy is new to Cesar

he has no idea why he gets that clenching feeling in his stomach when he sees you with (?), all close and even just slightly touching

and that voice telling him to just take you away from them is getting louder and louder

so what does he do?

he listens to it.

There you were, laughing with (?). You two had just gotten back from a fun time at a carnival in the next town over, and (?) was walking you home.

"Oh! Remember how scared you were on the Ferris wheel? Your face was priceless!" You laughed, covering your mouth with your hand.

"Oh, shut up!" (?) said, nudging you with their elbow.

"You know--" You started, but then (?) stopped moving and laughing. They were staring at something straight ahead in fear; you followed their eyes to see Cesar, standing ahead, just a couple feet away. The only thing that really scared (?) was that half of his face was missing besides his eye.

yeah safe to say your friend ran away

"why'd you--"

"I missed you."

yeah he took you away after that <3

away as in home

ya'll had a fun time there doing whatever it is you do with someone

idk i havent had human contact in years leave me alone /hj

JONAH MARSHALL

cute and goofy. perfect combo. just add in some stupid.

↑ recipe to make ur very own jonah

anygays

he is very goofy

so it seems impossible for him to get jealous right??

wrong.

he gets jealous very easily

and constantly tbh

he'll just pout at you and whoever he's jealous of

You were sitting at a restaurant with Jonah and (?). You and (?) had been chatting the entire time since they sat across from you, and the normally very loud Jonah was dead silent.

"Yeah so then I--" (?) started, but you stopped listening after a second because you felt something tug at your (shirt/sweater) sleeve. You looked next to you to see a pouting Jonah, with his cheeks all puffed out and goofy lil' mad face. <333

"How come you're not talking to me too??" He whined quietly, and you just had to let out a small giggle.

you had to let him in on the convo

he was back to normal in no time

when you guys left he was very clingy tho

no im not showing favoritism wdym

ADAM MURRAY

lets pretend adam wasnt a fr d/ckhead in the last volume ngl

he is chill

...sometimes

if he's woken up on the wrong side of the bed or sum

then he will get jealous quickly

not as fast as jonah but still

pretty fast

"Yeah so what movie did you want to watch?" You asked (?). You were at your house, and were going to have a movie marathon together.

"I was thinking.."

Little did either of you know, a groggy and grumpy Adam had entered the room, not have founding you anywhere in the other room with him.

"what're you doing?" he said, shocking both you and (?).

"HOLY SHIT ADAM-- You scared us!!" You said, whipping your head back to see him right behind the sofa.

"So?"

"sighh... we're having a movie marathon."

"Move over then, I'm joining."

he had his arms wrapped around you the entire time

silently pulling you closer and closer to him

he kept going 'till you two reached the edge farthest from (?)

poor (?)

they just wanted to watch movies

adam probably dragged you away to make popcorn with him lmfao

END

fandom masterlist

req. guidelines

[clean-bubbles-aka-bubbles]

Perpetual Confrontation with Perpetrator

ART DOES NOT BELONG TO ME! CREDITS: skrt.skrt28 on instagram

Thunderous thumps caused the floor to rumble slightly. The three stiffened up in fear, with Cesar expressing most fear since that particular thing—whoever or whatever—was behind them made him self-unalive. 

The creature before them stood tall, its form skeletal and shadowy. Despite this, its eyes were large and cartoonish, almost uncanny. Its unnaturally long, white grin, coupled with Cesar's hairstyle, only added to the surreal nature of the creature. It now stood on all fours, its body a gradient of grey and white. The creature's hands remained as claws, and its legs ended in pointy, needle-like spikes. Skeletal spikes protruded from behind its limbs, adding to its eerie appearance. It also had a long, thin tail of many small bones that gave the illusion of fluffiness, but it was not. 

“Wait, YOU again!?” Mark’s eyes widened in shock and anger. “Y-You’re the one that murdered my friend!” He gritted his teeth, readying his gun again. 

“Reminder that he survived thanks to you mortals." The Perpetrator scoffed. "Besides, you’re out of bullets after shooting me in the face and stomach.”

The Perpetrator's words sent a chill down Mark's spine, his grip on the gun tightening reflexively. He glanced down at the empty magazine, realizing the truth in the creature's words. Fear and frustration boiled within him, the memory of his friend's death fueling his anger.

“Hey! You’re the one who almost got me killed! And you attacked my mom! What did you do to her!? Where is she!?” Cesar coughed hoarsely from recovering after nearly dying.

The Perpetrator tilted its head slightly, a grotesque mimicry of curiosity as it regarded Cesar with its eerie, too-wide eyes. "Ah, your mother?" it said, its voice dripping with a mockery of concern. “She was merely a means to an end—a way to draw you out. As for where she is now—let's just say she's somewhere you cannot reach her."

Cesar's face contorted with a mix of fear and anger. "Tú pequeño pinchazo! You son of a–" he started, his voice hoarse but filled with fury. Bubbles quickly placed a restraining hand on his arm, a silent plea to stay calm. She was a bit surprised to see Cesar swear in his native language to an Alternate.

“What do you want?” She asked, reaching in her back and taking out her bladed frisbees. 

The creature's laughter filled the room, a chilling sound that echoed off the walls. "Want? I am here to fulfill the will of our Lord and Savior. To ensure the Artisan will suffer from its losses," it said, its gaze locking onto the three. 

"But you guys seemed to have the luck of the Celestial Artisan on your side. And you three have been quite the thorn in our side. But it seems that based on the other Alternates’ observations, you’re quite… oblivious to what transpires. I’ve been getting reports that Alternates have been killed discreetly the majority of the time. So if one of us confronts you in our presence, she will take time to come, right?"

Bubbles felt a cold dread settle in her stomach. The Perpetrator was close to discovering her role as the Celestial Artisan, which meant the stakes were higher than she had feared. She needed to protect her friends and end this threat–or at least slow down and weaken it, but how?

Mark noticed the tension in Bubbles and stepped slightly in front of her, his protective instincts kicking in despite the fear that gnawed at him.

.

.

*CLICK!*

.

.

"You'll have to go through me first," he declared, though his empty gun offered little reassurance.

“¡Idiota! You have an empty gun!” Cesar facepalmed at his friend. “What do you think that’s going to do!?”

The brown-haired teen winced at his Hispanic friend’s words, realizing the futility of his declaration. He glanced down at the empty gun in his hand, a bitter taste of defeat filling his mouth. 

"W- What are you going to do after you kill us?" Bubbles raised an eyebrow.

"After?” The Perpetrator's grin widened a grotesque expression that sent shivers down their spines. “Oh, there is no after for you," it hissed, its voice echoing slightly in the stark, empty hospital corridor. 

"But for the world?” He snarled. “The chaos has just begun. Our Lord has plans, grand plans, and you three are but a minor nuisance to be dealt with.” He pointed three elongated fingers at them.

.

.

“Once it's over, then we’ll be making more killings in this county, and once we’re powerful enough, there is nothing the Celestial Artisan can do to stop us!"

.

.

The girl deadpanned.

“...Why the hell would you reveal the plan to people out loud? Are you trying to sound menacing? Because if you tell us before you kill us, there’s technically no point psychologically manipulating us since we would have believed that’s how the fate of the world would be—in fact, we’re already dead and we can’t do anything about it in the afterlife.”

She shrugged. 

The Perpetrator's smile faltered momentarily, its composure slipping at Bubbles' retort. It seemed momentarily taken aback, not expecting such a candid challenge. The creature quickly regained its menacing demeanor, though a flicker of irritation crossed its distorted features.

"You think you understand the complexities of our plans?" it sneered, the menace in its voice now tinged with condescension. "You are nothing but pawns in a much larger game, one you are far from comprehending."

Bubbles rolled her eyes, her resolve hardening despite the fear still gripping her. "Well, if you're going to kill us anyway, then why not tell us your plans? It's not like it makes a difference now." She then turned back to her friends with a small note reading: “Find a distraction.”

Cesar nodded before he looked at his friend. “Come on, let’s find one of those large canisters,” his friend muttered back to Mark as the brown-haired teen holstered his gun before looking around.

"If our demise is inevitable, why the theatrics?" she challenged, trying to keep the creature engaged. "Why not just do it and get it over with?"

"Because," it began, stepping closer, its voice dropping to a menacing whisper, "the fear, the anticipation of your end, amplifies the satisfaction.Knowing there is no escape, watching you squirm is part of the joy."

“Uh-huh… right, but wouldn’t that be a waste of time if you’re trying to accomplish something?” She added.

“Also, if you’re going to be a true villain, I think it’s best if you keep your things a secret. Technically, it is common for people to be scared of the unknown, so keeping plans in secret will make the person panic, knowing that they will not know what will happen in the future, you know?”

She gestured with a confused shrug as Cesar quietly helped Mark grab a fire extinguisher. 

The Perpetrator's eyes narrowed, its irritation evident as it processed Bubbles' words. "You think you can lecture me on fear?" it spat disdainfully. "You know nothing of true dread."

"But you're still here talking to us," Bubbles countered, her tone even but edged with a slight challenge. "Why not finish this and move on to your grand plans?"

The creature paused, its malevolent gaze flickering between the three humans as if reassessing the situation. It seemed to be contemplating its next move, perhaps not used to its prey questioning its methods.

Meanwhile, taking advantage of Bubbles's distraction, Mark and Cesar positioned themselves quietly with the fire extinguisher. Mark held it tightly, ready to use it as a makeshift weapon or diversion when the moment was right.

The Perpetrator finally hissed, "Because... I am instructed to toy with you, to break you down mentally before your inevitable demise. Fear is a tool, and I wield it masterfully."

“Well, clearly, you have it, but you’re using it improperly.” She rolled her eyes.

"You... you dare to lecture me on villainy?" it hissed, its voice tinged with anger. "You, a mere mortal, presume to understand the intricacies of our plans?"

Bubbles shrugged nonchalantly, maintaining her calm facade in the face of the creature's growing agitation. "I'm just offering some friendly advice," she said with a small smirk. “After all, if you're going to be a villain, you might as well be a good one, right?"

Bubbles noticed Mark and Cesar's silent communication and slight movements. She gave a subtle, barely perceptible nod, signaling that she understood and was ready for whatever they planned.

“Tell me, what is this one flaw that makes me a not-so-good villain?!”

"Well, you're doing a fantastic job of being a cliché," Bubbles said dryly, her voice a mix of mockery and bravado. “Also, a general rule for people–personally–never let your enemies know your next move.”

The Perpetrator's eyes seemed to burn with fury at Bubbles' taunt, its form swelling as if fueled by its growing anger. ""Cliché?? I show you power, I show you fear, and you call it cliché?" it roared, its voice echoing ominously through the empty corridors of the hospital.

“Yes, exactly!” Bubbles fired back with undiminished bravado, keeping the creature engaged and distracted. "You're following the villain's playbook to a tee. Monologuing, underestimating your opponents, and now losing your cool? Textbook."

The Perpetrator paused, taken aback by her audacity. It seemed momentarily unsure, its confidence shaken by her pointed critique. This hesitation was precisely what Bubbles aimed for—a moment of doubt that could give them an edge. “Oh… WHY YOU LITTLE—!”

Enraged, the Alternate lunged forward, its earlier caution abandoned in its fury. Cesar, who had quietly retrieved a heavy object—a small portable oxygen tank—swung it with all his strength at the creature’s head.

.

.

*CLANK!*

.

.

The tank connected with a loud clang, and the creature staggered back, more from surprise than injury. 

Mark nodded to Cesar, seizing the opportunity provided by Bubbles' distraction. With a swift, coordinated motion, Mark aimed the fire extinguisher at the Perpetrator while his Hispanic friend prepared to act as backup.

“Eat foam, sucker!” He exclaimed.

.

.

*FWISH!*

.

.

Mark discharged the extinguisher with a determined press, sending a cloud of white foam enveloping the creature.

The Perpetrator recoiled, its form momentarily obscured by the dense cloud. The foam barrier muffled and distorted the howl, causing the Perpetrator to let out a furious cry.

“Take this!” Bubbles shouted, grabbing a nearby chair. She swung it with all her might, aiming for where she guessed the creature might be. The chair connected with something solid, a satisfying thud resonating through the room as it made contact.

The creature stumbled out of the foam, disoriented and visibly shaken. It wiped the foam from its eyes, glaring at them with renewed malice. "You think these tricks will save you?" it hissed, regaining its composure.

"We don't need to save ourselves from someone too busy being a cliché," Mark retorted, his confidence bolstered by their successful attack.

Bubbles didn’t miss a beat, stepping forward to keep the pressure on. "If you’re going to threaten us, at least bring something new. Like I said–”

“Never let your enemies know your next move!” Cesar pulled out a small red glass vial. "¡Ahora, come un maldito tabasco, bastardo peludo y sin costillas, caricatura falsa y espeluznante!" He exclaimed before throwing it to its face, smashing the Tabasco jar.

.

.

*CRACK!*

*SPLASH!*

.

.

The glass shattered on impact, splashing the creature's face with the fiery hot sauce. The Perpetrator screeched in rage and pain, its distorted features contorting as it clawed at its burning eyes. The acidic contents of the tabasco sauce worked better than they could have hoped, momentarily incapacitating the formidable foe.

"Nice shot!" Bubbles exclaimed, throwing a supportive glance at Cesar. His improvisation had given them a critical advantage.

"Thanks! I learned that one from my mom!" Cesar quipped, managing a grin despite the adrenaline surging through his veins.

With the Perpetrator temporarily disabled, Mark, Bubbles, and Cesar didn't waste a moment. "Come on! Let’s go!" Mark said as they headed to find an exit.

As they ran, the Perpetrator's enraged howls echoed behind them, a stark reminder that their reprieve would be short-lived. They needed a plan and fast. “Mark, do you know where we can get out!?” Bubbles asked while carrying Cesar by one of his shoulders over her.

“I’ve been here before, when I was born and when I had to get my flu shots!” He remarked with a slight chuckle, trying to ease up the mood. “Once we get out of here, nothing is stopping us—”

.

.

*CRASH!*

.

.

An angry roar was followed as the Perpetrator appeared behind them across the hallway, smashing a few hospital cots and stretchers along the way. It had recovered from the pain, but it was mad.

.

.

“YOU CAN’T ESCAPE!”

.

.

It spoke in a demonic-like voice before running after them at an uncanny speed and manner.

The trio sped through the twisting hallways, Mark leading the way as they dodged debris and overturned equipment. The hospital, once a sanctuary of healing, had become a nightmarish maze with the enraged Perpetrator close behind.

"Left here!" Mark shouted as they approached a junction.

.

.

*SQUEAK!!*

.

.

He skidded around the corner, his familiarity with the hospital layout coming in handy under the dire circumstances. The signage above flickered sporadically, the arrow pointing towards the emergency exit offering a glimmer of hope.

Bubbles, supporting Cesar, glanced back to see the Perpetrator gaining on them. Its eyes burned with a vicious intent, and its white mouth was agape in a grotesque snarl. Their perilous situation was stark; they were outmatched in speed and might.

"Keep moving!" she urged, feeling Cesar's weight sag against her. Despite his awakening, he was far from fully recovered, his body still frail from his recent brush with death.

They reached an emergency stairwell. The door was barred with a crash bar. Mark slammed into it with his shoulder, bursting through with a grunt. The stairwell was dimly lit, the emergency lights casting long shadows that danced with their frantic movements.

"Down!" he yelled, taking the stairs two at a time. The echo of their footsteps mingled with the distant roars of the Perpetrator, its sounds growing ominously louder.

As they descended, Bubbles felt her heart pounding against her chest, not just from the physical exertion but from the fear of what might happen if they were caught. She knew they couldn't outrun the Perpetrator indefinitely. They needed a way to stop it or delay it long enough to escape.

Reaching the bottom, they burst through the door to the ground floor. The exit sign was just ahead, glowing red in the gloom. "Almost there!" Mark pointed, his voice strained with exertion and hope.

But they weren't budging open as they stepped to the automatic doors. “Oh, come on! Please work!” Cesar hoarsely coughed and grunted as Mark pounded and tried to break through the hospital doors. 

“Damn it! Why isn’t it working?” The brown-haired male kept trying to break the door. He quickly looked around and tried to find an object to break it. 

There was a patient monitor, but the screen flickered violently before a text appeared, reading, “THERE’S NO ESCAPE.”

The chilling message on the patient monitor sent a wave of dread washing over them. "Ignore it! We need to find another way out!" Bubbles insisted, her voice firm despite the fear clutching her heart.

“Any good ideas?” Cesar raised an eyebrow. “Mark,” he turned to his friends. “Do you know any doors or exits that are NOT electronically charged?”

“Not sure, but we don’t have much time.” Bubbles hummed, hearing the footsteps of the Alternate getting closer.

The brown-haired man seemed to contemplate, remembering what transpired when he was trapped in his room for three days. “Cut the power,” he flatly spoke.

His Hispanic friend looked at him incredulously. “Wait, we’re just going to turn it off? But don’t these Alternates have control over technology?”

“He means we’re going to cut the power off LITERALLY!” Bubbles emphasized. 

Mark nodded sharply, catching on to Bubbles' plan. "Exactly! If we cut the main power, it might shut down the automatic doors' locking mechanism. They should default to an unlocked state for safety during a power outage!"

Cesar, still weak but fueled by adrenaline, pushed himself to think. "The main electrical room should be in the basement. It's a standard for hospitals to have their main switches there for emergencies."

With no time to lose, they quickly made their way toward the basement, the sounds of the Perpetrator's pursuit echoing menacingly behind them. As they ran, Bubbles maintained a grip on Cesar, supporting him as they navigated the dimly lit corridors filled with the sterile scent of antiseptics and the sharp, metallic tang of fear.

The brown-haired male led the way, using his memory of the hospital layout from his previous visits. "Here, this way!" he pointed towards a door marked with a sign for 'Electrical Room.' He tried the handle, but it was locked.

“Oh, come on!” Cesar and Mark groaned in annoyance. 

“We don’t even have time to search for the key! ¡Nosotros vamos a estar muertos!” The Hispanic teen sighed. 

“I can try lock-picking it,” Bubbles said, pulling out her hairclip. “However, considering it is not a hole lock, it'll take some time.” She eyed the shape of the keylock.

Bubbles inserted her hairclip into the lock, her fingers working with practiced precision despite the tremor of adrenaline coursing through her. Each click and scrape was a silent symphony of hope as she manipulated the tumblers within. Mark and Cesar kept watch, their eyes darting nervously down the corridor, listening for the ominous sounds of their pursuer.

"Anytime now would be great," Mark muttered under his breath, the tension palpable in his voice as he clutched a nearby fire extinguisher, ready to use as a makeshift weapon.

"Just a bit more," Bubbles whispered, her concentration intense. With a final twist, a soft click echoed through the tense air—the sound of success. 

"Quick, inside!" she ushered her friends in, glancing over her shoulder to ensure the Perpetrator was not in immediate pursuit. They entered, and she shut the door, scanning the room for the main power switch.

The basement electrical room was a maze of conduit and buzzing transformers, the hum of electricity starkly contrasting their desperate silence. Mark used the flashlight to illuminate the labels on the various panels.

“Okay! We’re here, now… uh…” He trailed off, realizing they didn’t know which panels, lever, or wires to turn off. 

"¿Qué diablos es esto?" Cesar muttered in his native language. “¿¡Qué tipo de hospital no tiene etiquetas!? ¡Esto es estúpido!”

Bubbles scanned the room, her mind racing as she searched for any sign of which switch or lever controlled the main power. "We need to find the master switch," she said urgently, her voice low but determined. "Keep looking. It has to be here somewhere."

Mark nodded, his gaze sweeping over the rows of panels and switches. "There!" he exclaimed, pointing to a larger panel at the room's far end. "That looks like it could be the main power switch."

Cesar rushed over to it, his fingers trembling slightly as he reached out to flip the lever. "Here goes nothing," he muttered, his heart pounding.

.

.

*CLICK!*

*BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!*

.

.

A sudden alarm blared in the electrical room, taking the trio by surprise. “AAGH!” Mark and Bubbles yelled as they held their ears. 

“Turn it off!” The brown-haired male screamed. “That’s the wrong switch! It’s going to grab attention!”

“Sorry!” The black-haired male apologized before he flipped the switch, turning the alarm off.

Cesar, still frazzled by the loud alarm, moved quickly to another switch, his eyes wide with the urgency of their situation. "Let's try this one," he said, his voice tense as he reached for a different lever, marked somewhat ambiguously with a warning sticker.

With a determined pull, the room was plunged into darkness as the main power was successfully cut. The only light now came from Mark's small flashlight, its beam flickering slightly in his shaking hand.

"Did it work?" Bubbles whispered, her voice low in the sudden silence that followed the system's powering down.

"We won't know until we get back upstairs," Mark replied, his voice steady despite the circumstances. "Let’s move quickly. The emergency lights will kick in soon, and that thing might still be on our tail."

The trio navigated their way back through the basement corridors, moving as swiftly as possible in the dim light of Mark's flashlight. The eerie quiet was unsettling, but they pressed on, driven by the need to escape.

Footsteps began to pick up as they looked everywhere for the source, and there it was—The Perpetrator—chasing after them.

"OH FUDGE! GO, GO!"

Clean Bubbles scrambled in panic as she grabbed Mark and Cesar, carrying the boys over her shoulders with an arm before running at an uncanny speed, slightly faster than the Alternate. 

“Damn! Are you a muscle woman!?” The Hispanic male exclaimed.

“What the hell!?” The brown-haired male was equally bewildered by the unexpected uncanny speed.

Reaching the ground floor, they hurried towards the main exit. This time, as they approached the automatic doors, there was a faint hum of the emergency backup power kicking in, and the doors slid open with a hesitant stutter.

"Go, go, go!" Mark shouted.

But before they burst through the doors into the cool night air, the Perpetrator pounced up from behind, slapping Bubbles with a clawed hand while she carried Mark and Cesar. 

.

.

*WHAM!*

.

.

The impact force sent Bubbles tumbling forward, sprawling onto the ground, away from the hospital exit. The sudden shock of hitting the floored tile jarred her senses, but her concern was immediately for the boys she had been carrying.

Mark and Cesar, propelled by the momentum, rolled away on the ground, groaning as they stopped. 

The boys scrambled to their feet, glancing back with alarm at Bubbles, who was struggling to rise. The Perpetrator towered over her, its grotesque grin widening as it prepared to strike again.

“Bubbles!” Mark shouted, rushing toward her, but Cesar grabbed his arm and held him back.

“We need another plan! Rushing in won’t help!” He hissed, scanning the area for anything they could use.

Bubbles coughed, shaking her head to clear it as she tried to stand, feeling the sting of the attack. Her eyes narrowed as she faced the looming creature. “You think you’ve won, huh?” she snarled.

.

.

*BAM!*

.

.

“AGH!” She coughed as a clawed hand grabbed her and slammed her body to the floor, its nails digging through her clothes and into her flesh. 

The Perpetrator chuckled darkly, its grin stretching impossibly wide. "And who's going to stop me? You?" it sneered, its voice dripping with contempt. “You mortals can’t defeat us!”

“Are you sure? You still have that Celestial Artisan kicking your butt.” She remarked despite the pain.

The Perpetrator's eyes flashed with malice at the mention of the Celestial Artisan. "Ah, but you see," it hissed, leaning close, its breath cold, "the Celestial Artisan isn't here now, is she? Just you, weak and alone."

Bubbles grunted under the creature's grip, struggling to free herself. Her eyes flickered to Mark and Cesar, who were frantically looking for anything to help.

"Who said I was fighting alone?” She gasped. “Also, you’re still terrible at being a good villain.”

“Shut up!” It snarled.

“Dude, you’re letting me talk to you so casually and not getting me to scream in agony.” Bubbles rolled her eyes at him.

The Perpetrator's grip tightened on Bubbles. Its frustration is evident in how its shadowy form quivered with rage. "Perhaps I should rectify that oversight," it growled, its voice low and menacing.

"No need to, because by the way, you fell for that one universal saying and trick people say." She cut it off.

"And what is that?"

.

"Never let your enemies know your next move!"

.

Mark dashed forward, holding the defibrillator paddles charged and ready. His movements were swift, the result of adrenaline-fueled desperation. Cesar was beside him, carrying a metal pole he had grabbed from a broken bed frame, acting as backup.

The Perpetrator's attention snapped back to Mark, its eyes widening as it realized too late that it had been distracted by Bubbles. Mark pressed the paddles against the creature's skeletal, shadowy form as he neared. The electrical discharge crackled loudly in the quiet hospital corridor.

.

.

*ZZAP!*

.

.

The Perpetrator convulsed violently under the shock, its grip on Bubbles loosening. She scrambled away, gasping for air, her clothes torn and her skin marked from the claws. The creature stumbled back, its form flickering and distorting like a static-filled TV screen, momentarily disoriented by the sudden electrical assault.

“Now, Cesar!” Mark shouted, already retreating to ready another charge from the defibrillator.

Cesar swung the metal pole with all his might, aiming for the creature’s head. 

.

.

*CLANK!*

.

.

The impact echoed through the corridor with a resounding clang, further disorienting the Perpetrator. It roared in frustration and pain, the sound chilling and otherworldly.

Bubbles, now on her feet, didn’t waste the moment. She swiftly joined the fray, pulling out another of her bladed frisbees. With a skilled flick of her wrist, she spun it towards the creature, aiming for its large, cartoonish eyes. The frisbee sliced through the air with deadly precision.

.

.

*SLICE!*

.

.

The frisbee cut a shallow gash across the creature's face, causing it to shriek and recoil further. Bubbles found a discarded IV stand. She swiftly ripped the metal pole from its base and wielded it like a spear.

The Perpetrator, reeling from the repeated electrical shocks, was slow to defend itself against Bubbles' improvised weapon. She thrust the sharp end of the IV pole forward with all her might, aiming for a weak spot in the creature's armor-like skin.

.

.

*THUNK!*

*SPLACK!*

*SQUISH!*

.

.

The pole tip pierced through, causing a dark, ichorous liquid to ooze. The Perpetrator shrieked, its voice echoing a terrifying mix of human agony and otherworldly rage. It flailed wildly, attempting to dislodge the pole, but Bubbles pushed forward, driving it deeper.

"Let's move! Now!" Bubbles commanded as the Perpetrator began to falter. The creature's movements grew sluggish, its attacks less coordinated. Sensing their advantage, Mark and Cesar supported each other and limped towards the exit, their bodies bruised but not broken.

Bubbles gave the IV pole one final push before turning to join her friends. As they neared the automatic doors, she glanced back to see the Perpetrator collapsing to the ground and struggling to remove the pole from its chest.

They burst through the doors into the cool night air. The sudden change from the hospital's claustrophobic atmosphere to the open, breezy outside world felt like a liberation. The hospital's exterior lights flickered ominously behind them, casting long shadows across the parking lot.

"We need to get out of here fast!" Mark said, panting heavily as they left the building.

However, Clean Bubbles paused in her tracks, looking at the hospital halls. She knew how fast Alternates could run, and if they could catch up with them, then they’d be running nonstop until they were dead.

“Bubbles! What are you doing!?” Cesar hissed. “The lights will turn back on, and the door will shut!”

.

.

*CLICK! Click! Click!*

.

.

“Keeping it at bay.” She remarked, not moving from her place as she looked at the abandoned hospital.

“What!?” Mark stopped and looked back. “What are you thinking!? Are you going to die for us!?”

.

.

*CLICK! Click! Click!*

.

.

“I know I won’t die.” She clenched her fist with determination as the emergency power started to kick in. “But listen,” the blue-and-black-haired girl turned to them.

“If this Alternate can follow us anywhere, we’ll be constantly on the run. However, if I can get this guy trapped somewhere in the hospital, then it won’t chase us.”

“What about you!? Don’t push us away like you did last time!” Cesar exclaimed. 

“I’m not, but fine then. Come get me if I don’t return from the hospital after 30 minutes.” She nodded.

.

.

*CLICK!*

*SLAM!*

.

.

The lights flickered on, and the automatic doors were sealed shut, locking her and the boys apart.

[acaplaya-musings]

VoicePlay/Geoff Christmas song predictions for 2024

I don't know for absolute certain that we're getting full-length Christmas covers from both Geoff and VoicePlay this year (for all we know we could get a 'regular' non-seasonal song from one or both channels, idk), but I do hope so, especially as Geoff's last full length thing (Song Of Durin) was back in September, and VP's Stand By Me was filmed roughly around that time or earlier as well, so we can hope that everyone's had enough time to plan out some Christmas stuff.

Anyway, I initially made this list last year, as I was starting to become a full-on massive VoicePlay fan, and I might as well share it here for this year! It's my list of hopes and/or general predictions for what Geoff and VoicePlay might do for Christmas this year. That way, if I do end up predicting something correctly, then I can brag about it I have proof! And I'm posting this now because I wanna get in early, before I potentially hear any hint of any new releases on the Patreons (and it feels like nearly everyone here has decided that Christmas season has begun already anyway, rip).

So yeah, list time!

Geoff Castellucci predictions:

Sleigh Ride (you do likely know this song, even if you're not familiar with the title. It's fairly catchy)

Silent Night (I'm not typically a fan of most "traditional" Christmas carols, but this one is undeniably a classic, and if Geoff did this? God I would melt! It would be the most gorgeous thing honestly)

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas (he's got the right voice for it, and I'm quite fond of this song ngl)

Voiceplay predictions:

Rockin Around The Christmas Tree (trying to recreate the saxophone solo in acapella style could be a challenge, but hey, they could always bring out Violayne again for it!)

Let It Snow (no real reason for this pick other than "I know the song and I think it would be doable in group acapella format")

Winter Wonderland (VoicePlay could have a lot of fun with this one I feel like, in both the arrangement and the video (actually, there's actually a cover of this on their Spotify - from one of their 2004 EPs, Unstoppable, back when the group was still 4:2:Five, but like it's been 20 years, y'know?))

Silver Bells (This is perhaps an unusual addition to my list, simply because I'm actually not all that fond of this song - I find it kinda boring/dull. But that's kinda exactly why I'm including it here - if anyone can make me like a song, it's VoicePlay/Geoff. I would never ordinarily choose to listen to Silver Bells, but if it was a Geoff/VoicePlay cover? I so absolutely would!)

WILDCARD: Santa Baby as a Voiceplay Mini (this isn't one I'm actually holding my breath for, more of just one that my brain was like "hey you know what would be really funny?" (And listen, I first made this prediction last year, before the release of Jingle Bell Rock - I'm just saying!)) (Also you can't tell me Cesar wouldn't fully commit to the bit!)

I will also mention that at least one or two VP Patrons have been holding out hope for a Carol Of The Bells cover this year, but I'm not overly fussed about that one either way (there's a Peter Hollens cover of it that I really like and quite honestly I'd be shocked if VoicePlay managed to create a version that was just as good). But maybe we'll get a Christmas cover from one or both channels of a song I'm not even originally familiar with! (Like with Geoff doing Blue Christmas last year).

Who knows, idk, but you know me, I'll be happy with pretty much anything! <3

[whereslynx]

One with cesar hooking up with reader while monse is gone but she comes back and finds out somehow (jamal ofc 😅)

a/n: the drama!!👏 sorry, i got a bit too carried away with the length of the oneshot (like i always do) but i just had so much fun writing this😭

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

With Monse out of town, Cesar felt an electric thrill coursing through him as he leaned closer to you on the couch. The breakup with Monse had been messy and complicated, filled with unresolved feelings and unspoken words, but you both were caught in a moment that felt impossible to resist. The dim lighting of the room created an intimate atmosphere, casting soft shadows on the walls, while the scent of his cologne lingered in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of popcorn from earlier.

You both had been hooking up for a while now. It started with Monse breaking up with Cesar before she left Freeridge, leaving him to run to you for comfort. A warm body against his was all he needed, turning it into a mutual agreement to keep it casual with no strings attached for a few days—which meant that keeping it under wraps was mandatory.

You didn’t mind though—you weren’t that close with the friend group, mostly only knowing them through mutual friends. To you, this was just a casual fling.

“Just for a few days,” Cesar had promised, his voice low and enticing as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. As your lips met in a kiss, everything outside faded away—the sound of cars passing by, the distant chatter of friends outside, even the buzzing of your phone notifications. It was just you and him, wrapped in a world that felt perfect.

But that blissful moment shattered when Jamal’s boisterous laughter cut through the intimacy like a knife. “Yo, where is everyone?” Jamal’s voice echoed from the hallway, and Cesar’s eyes went wide. Panic washed over his features as he quickly pushed you back gently, a look of urgency etched on his face. “Not now, Jamal!”

But it was too late. Jamal sauntered in, his curiosity painted all over his face, a playful grin spreading from ear to ear. “What’s this? I thought y’all were just friends!” He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, clearly enjoying the unexpected scene before him.

Cesar’s mind raced, his heart pounding in his chest. “Jamal, wait—” he started, but Jamal was already stepping further into the room, taking in the intimate atmosphere with gleeful delight. You could feel your cheeks burning as you shifted uncomfortably, caught between embarrassment and the thrill of being discovered.

“What? You thought I wouldn’t notice?” Jamal teased, his laughter ringing out like a siren. “Y’all look cozy over here! What happened to ‘we’re just chilling’?” He waggled his eyebrows exaggeratedly, clearly relishing the moment, while Cesar shot you an apologetic look, silently begging for the ground to swallow him whole.

You glanced at Cesar, half-expecting him to come up with some quick excuse, but he was frozen, caught off guard by the interruption. Jamal, on the other hand, was practically vibrating with excitement, eager to spill the tea on your newfound connection.

You scrambled off the couch, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Can’t you knock?!” you blurted out, but the heat of the moment clung to the air like an uninvited guest refusing to leave.

“Aw, c’mon! I ain’t mad; I just didn’t expect this!” Jamal chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, clearly loving the drama unfolding before him. “Cesar, my dude! You didn’t tell me you were making moves!”

Cesar shot Jamal a glare that could freeze flames, his jaw clenched in frustration. “Keep it down, man. This isn’t a game.” His voice was steady but low, the weight of the situation evident as he tried to keep the moment from spiraling out of control. You could sense the tension in the room, an awkward mix of embarrassment and unspoken feelings hanging thick in the air.

Jamal, oblivious to the seriousness of it all, continued grinning, clearly relishing the chance to stir the pot. “It’s fine. You hook up with her every now and then—plus, you and Monse are broken up. So, what’s the big deal?” He casually waved youse off, dismissing the tension that remained in the air.

Cesar ran a hand over his face, his brows furrowing in distress. He knew exactly how this was going to go down, “That’s the thing, Jamal,” he cleared his throat, shooting Jamal a nervous stare, “Monse can’t know.” He muttered.

Jamal’s expression shifted from amusement to panic. He hated keeping secrets; it made him feel like he was carrying a weight he couldn’t handle. “Wait, wait, wait! Are you serious right now?” he exclaimed, running a hand through his hair, visibly distressed. “You know I’m terrible at keeping secrets! Like, remember last time? I told Monse about her surprise party, and she was so mad! I thought she was gonna kill me!”

Cesar stepped forward, urgency evident in his demeanor. “Jamal, don’t say anything. You don’t understand how she’ll react. We’re just figuring things out.” He shot a pleading glance at Jamal, who was already sweating bullets, his mind racing with the implications of what he had just walked into.

“But I can’t hold this! It’s like a bomb waiting to go off, and you know how I get under pressure!” Jamal paced back and forth, anxiety radiating off him. “What if Monse comes back and I accidentally slip? I can’t do this!”

“Jamal, seriously—” Cesar began, voice laced with urgency.

Monse’s footsteps echoed sharply in the hallway, the sound growing closer with every passing second. Panic surged through the room like a tidal wave. “I just got back! What’s going on?” she called, her voice carrying that familiar edge, slicing through the tension as she stepped into the doorway.

Cesar’s heart dropped into his stomach, and you could feel the chill of dread creep up your spine. “This is not good,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as the panic began to rise in your chest. Every instinct screamed to move, to say something, but you felt frozen in place.

I mean, it was just a casual hook-up, and now you got yourself twisted in drama that you weren’t supposed to be involved with in the first place.

Monse’s eyes darted between Jamal, who was pacing the room like a caged animal, his nerves betraying him, and Cesar, whose jaw was clenched tight, tension radiating off him. Then her gaze landed on you—sitting far too close to Cesar for it to be just a coincidence.

“What’s happening?” she asked, her brows knitting together in confusion, suspicion lacing her tone. The room felt stifling, like the walls were closing in. You glanced at César, whose posture had gone rigid, trying to think of a way to diffuse the situation, but nothing came. Monse’s eyes narrowed, reading the room like she was piecing together a puzzle she really didn’t want to solve.

Jamal, clearly losing it, threw his hands up. “Oh, man! I can’t— I can’t hold this in!” His pacing became frantic as the pressure of the secret mounted. “This is exactly why I hate knowing stuff!”

“Jamal, shut up!” Cesar growled, his voice tight with desperation, silently begging him not to say a word.

But it was too late. Monse’s suspicion turned into something sharper, and you could feel the storm brewing. There was no escaping this.

Monse sharply turned to Jamal—if nobody was going to tell her what was happening, Jamal would. “Jamal,” she sternly said, “what happened?” Monse asked, although, it sounded more like an order by the way her tone sharpened and her voice rose.

“Nothing! Just, uh…” Jamal faltered, his voice wavering, clearly battling his own nerves as he desperately tried to find the right words. His eyes darted between you, Cesar, and Monse, as if searching for an escape route. “We were just hanging out—”

“Hanging out?” Monse echoed, her brows arching with suspicion. The knot in your stomach tightened, and you felt Cesar’s tension radiating beside you.

“Yeah, hanging out,” you repeated, trying to steady your voice, but the panic in your chest made it hard to breathe. You shot Cesar a frantic look, silently pleading for him to step in, to come up with something, anything, before Jamal blurted out the truth.

But Cesar remained silent, as if Jamal took up all the words that were left in his lungs—Cesar’s expression was hard, his jaw clenched as he stared daggers at Jamal, silently begging him to shut up. But it was no use. Jamal, wide-eyed with a mixture of panic and dread, was a ticking time bomb.

“It’s not like we were—” Jamal started, his voice cracking as his nerves got the better of him. Cesar’s glare deepened, his warning almost palpable. But Jamal, caught up in his own mess, couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out.

“Not like you were what, Jamal?” Monse’s voice had an edge now, her eyes narrowing as she stepped forward, crossing her arms. You could feel her gaze piercing through the room, and the tension spiked, the air thick and suffocating.

Cesar shifted beside you, his body rigid with frustration, but he was too late. The damage was done.

Jamal’s eyes darted nervously between you, Cesar, and Monse, his mouth twitching like he was physically fighting the urge to speak. “We were just… uh… hanging out… watching a movie,” he started, his voice cracking under the pressure. “But not, like, a bad movie! You know, like, one of those, uh, romance… dramas, not like we were… oh man, what am I saying—”

Cesar’s glare sharpened, silently begging Jamal to shut up, but that only seemed to make things worse.

“I mean, people kiss in those movies, right? But not that they kissed! Or, well, maybe they did! I don’t know! I wasn’t paying attention! I just walked in, and—oh God, it’s happening. It’s happening! I can’t keep this secret!”

You cringed as Jamal’s rambling got more frantic, and Monse’s face slowly morphed from confusion to suspicion.

“Jamal, stop,” Cesar warned, his voice low, but it was too late.

“Okay! Okay! I can’t lie! They were… you know, uh… doing stuff while you were gone! Like… together-together! Hooking up! But it’s not what it seems—or maybe it is! Oh man, I’m so bad at this!” Jamal slapped his own forehead. “Monse, I’m sorry!”

Monse’s face dropped in disbelief, her eyes darting to you and Cesar. Her mouth opened slightly, like she was processing the mess of words Jamal just threw at her, before it all finally clicked.

“What?” she whispered, her voice quiet but lethal.

You felt your stomach twist into knots as Monse’s gaze locked onto you, sharp and full of hurt, her eyes narrowing like she was piecing everything together in real time. Cesar took a step toward her, his hands slightly raised in a weak attempt to calm her down. “Monse, let me explain—”

But Monse wasn’t having it. Her expression hardened, her arms crossing defensively. “Explain what? That you two were hooking up while I was gone?” Her voice cracked, a painful mix of anger and disbelief. She looked between you and Cesar, her brows furrowing deeper as if she couldn’t believe what was unfolding in front of her. It was clear she was struggling to process the betrayal.

Jamal, still hovering awkwardly near the door, was slowly inching backward, clearly regretting every word that had just left his mouth. “I—I tried not to say anything! I swear! But it just came out, and now I’ve ruined everything again. This is why I can’t be trusted with secrets!” He muttered in a rush, his voice full of panic as he wrung his hands.

You were stuck, frozen like a deer in headlights, except the headlights were Monse’s burning stare and Jamal’s blabbering just threw you right in front of the car. The weight of what he’d said hit you like a ton of bricks, and suddenly the room felt way too small. You barely even knew Monse, but the way she was looking at you? It was like you’d personally shattered some sacred family heirloom or ruined world peace.

You swallowed hard, fighting the urge to just duck out the nearest window. “Soo… this is awkward,” you thought to yourself, praying for an emergency exit.

Monse raised an eyebrow, her lips pressing into a tight line. “Seriously, what the hell? I thought we’d get through this but—You can’t just do this while I’m gone! It’s… it’s wrong!” Her voice wavered, but her anger kept her steady, keeping her from breaking down.

Cesar stepped forward again, desperation flashing across his face. “Monse, let me explain. It’s complicated—”

“Complicated?” Monse’s voice rose, a bitter laugh escaping her as disbelief painted her expression. “You mean to say you’re getting cozy with her while I’m out of town? I can’t believe this, Cesar. After everything, you’re just… moving on like it’s nothing?” She clenched her jaw, trying to keep her emotions in check, but her eyes were starting to glisten, threatening to spill over with tears.

“Chill! I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding!” Jamal piped up, his voice shaky and his attempt at playing peacemaker only making things worse. “Right, guys? It’s not like y’all were, you know, doing… what I just said, right?” He laughed nervously, his voice cracking under the pressure, but Cesar shot him a deathly glare, clearly not in the mood.

Monse shot him a look of disbelief. “Jamal, stop! You already ruined it, don’t make it worse!”

Jamal backed up a step, hands in the air, eyes wide with panic. “Okay, okay, I’m done! But—seriously—I didn’t mean to blow this up!” He looked like he was about to pass out from sheer stress.

The silence that followed was thick, the tension unbearable as Monse stood there, waiting for Cesar to say something, anything, that would make this all make sense. But the truth was out, and there was no taking it back.

“I come back to find you two practically wrapped around each other! This isn’t what I thought we had!” Monse snapped, her hurt evident.

You felt trapped, your heart racing as the reality of the situation crashed down around you. “Monse, listen—”

“Save it!” she interrupted, her tone cutting through the tension like a knife. “You don’t get to play innocent now.” She muttered, only receiving a frustrated huff from you.

Jamal looked between you and Cesar, the realization of the mess growing heavy in the air. “I didn’t mean to spill! I was just… excited! You guys are like a telenovela!”

“Shut up, Jamal!” Cesar hissed, but Jamal was already caught in a whirlpool of his own thoughts. It seemed like a common theme to hush Jamal up.

“I can’t keep this to myself! I’m too much of an open book! I feel like I’m about to explode!” he exclaimed, his hands flailing as he tried to calm his racing heart.

As Monse’s anger simmered, you glanced at Cesar, who was visibly pained. “Cesar, you’ve gotta do something!” you whispered urgently, desperation clawing at your insides.

But in that moment, Jamal’s struggle to keep a secret had blown everything wide open. The reality of your tangled emotions and complicated relationships loomed large, and as Monse’s glare cut through the chaos, you couldn’t help but wonder how the fuck you were going to get out of this.

Monse’s eyes blazed with anger, her breath heavy as she glanced between you and César. Jamal, still in a full state of distress, was backing up toward the door, his hands flailing like he couldn’t decide whether to leave or somehow fix this catastrophic mess. “I—uh—oh man, this is bad, real bad. Why do I always do this? Why can’t I just keep my mouth shut?” he muttered to himself, rubbing his temples like he had a headache.

You watched Jamal make his hasty exit, his feet almost tripping over each other as he bolted for the door. “I’m just gonna… leave you guys to sort this out! I can’t take this pressure! I don’t wanna know! I can’t!” he rambled, his voice getting higher as he scrambled out of the room. “I’ll be… I don’t know… anywhere else!” The door slammed behind him, leaving the room in a strange, tense silence.

As soon as Jamal bolted out the door, mumbling something about not being able to handle the pressure, the air in the room grew heavy with awkwardness. Monse’s eyes were still burning with anger, and Cesar looked like he was silently praying for a miracle. You, however, were already thinking of an escape route.

You cleared your throat, raising a hand like you were about to say something important. “Okay, uh, in my defense, y’all were broken up.”

Monse’s jaw tightened, and she turned toward you, eyes narrowed in disbelief. She opened her mouth, clearly ready to snap back, but you quickly cut her off, raising both hands this time like you were surrendering. “Hold up, hold up. In MY defense,” you added, “I don’t know what Cesar told you, but I didn’t know the full story either.”

Cesar’s face immediately scrunched up in panic. “Wait, that’s not—”

You shook your head, cutting him off with a quick wave. “Nah, nah. Shiiit, this is way too much for me. I’mma just bounce. Catch y’all ‘round Freeridge.”

With that, you stood up, brushing imaginary dust off your pants, and casually made your way toward the door. Monse blinked, momentarily stunned by your calm retreat. She wasn’t sure whether to be mad or impressed by your exit. Cesar, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to cry.

Monse took a deep breath, her frustration clearly bubbling to the surface. “Seriously? You’re just gonna walk away after all this?”

You gave her a quick shrug from the doorway. “Yup. Y’all got this,” you said, glancing over your shoulder with a little smirk. “Good luck.”

As soon as the door closed behind you, you could hear Cesar scrambling after Monse. “Monse, wait—”

She turned on him, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, now you wanna talk?”

César held up his hands, desperation written all over his face. “I can explain—”

Monse, already over it, shook her head and marched toward the door. “I’ve heard enough, Cesar. And clearly, so has the whole neighborhood now. I’m out.”

As the door slammed shut behind her, Cesar collapsed back onto the couch, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. “Well, shit,” he muttered to himself, the weight of the drama hitting him all at once.

Outside, you caught up with Jamal, who was still pacing around in a circle, muttering nonsense under his breath. “I messed up. I can’t handle this. I’m gonna lose friends. Oh man, this is bad.”

You patted his shoulder. “Hey, at least you didn’t die in there. Could’ve been worse.” You half-heartedly comforted him, already on your phone to get a ride to anywhere but the house.

Jamal looked at you, wide-eyed. “Worse? How could it possibly be worse?” He whined, running a hand over his head in distress.

You grinned, looking up from your phone, “Trust me, compa. It could always be worse.”

Jamal’s eyes darted nervously between you and the door as Monse stormed past, her footsteps heavy with frustration. He winced, letting out a long, exaggerated sigh, rubbing the back of his head again. “Worse, huh? Looks like we hit that point.”

You both stood there, dead silent as Monse walked by, her glare sharp enough to cut glass. Neither of you dared to move or breathe too loudly until she was out of earshot.

Jamal finally leaned in, whispering, “Do you think she’s gonna kill us?”

You grinned, shaking your head. “Nah, I think we’re safe. Well… I’m safe.” You mumbled, offering him a cheeky grin.

Jamal stared at you, horrified. “I’m not safe?!”

You shrugged, holding back a laugh.

“Depends, man. How fast can you run?”

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Code Blue Ch. 58- Absolution

Summary: Jo comes face to face with the past. A suspicion is confirmed. An invitation is given. Jo and Craig indulge, maybe a little too much. Lee overhears something that gives him a wake up call. He confronts one of his troubles. Lee, Jo and Craig all get the shock of their lives. Jo doesn't think twice to sacrifice but in the end, it didn't even matter.....

*Chapter Warnings* language, angst, self pleasure, alcohol use, smoking, gun use

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist:

March 23, 2022

Boston

Rain drizzled down your fogged up windshield as you silently sat in a distant daze, listening to the familiar trickling sound that brought back the memory of your first kiss with Lee in his car. A kiss so soft and so sweet, you could still feel his tender lips and taste the smooth traces of Crown Royal he had consumed that night. Whiskey. That damn whiskey that, according to Gerry's relayed rumors, caused Lee to have possibly hooked up with Angel in his drunken, vulnerable stupor. Letting your head fall back against the car seat, you sighed and cried along with the sobbing sky as you closed your eyes. Your whimpering voice then softly sang a few lines from the famous and catchy Johnny Cash song, only your version became a broken-hearted ballad.

"The taste of love is sweet when hearts like ours meet. I fell for you like a child, oh but the fire went wild. I fell into the burning ring of fire. I went down, down, down and the flames went higher and it burns, burns, burns, the ring of fire. The ring of fire..."

Pulling yourself together, you cleaned up your raccoon eyes then focused on what you were about to do. Face Peter. Before you had went to see Gerry, you did something that you would probably pay the consequences for later, which was calling Luke to see if he could pull some strings for you regarding the visit. In doing so, you had to swallow your pride over what happened between the two of you and also swallow your anger over his involvement in what happened to Lee's parents, for you would save that mess for another time. Luke was your only option because you knew you could have never asked Gerry, for he would have turned you down flat while scolding you with his Scottish slang about how crazy you were. Luke also risked facing Gerry's wrath as well for helping you, which that took some coaxing in getting the newly sworn in officer onboard with your unexpected request. Honestly, you figured Luke would laugh and hang up on you after your last encounter with him. Hell, you thought he wouldn't even answer your call at all but he did...and on the first ring. You explained to him that you needed to see Peter and that it had to be today before you lost the nerve to go, but that wasn't all. You wanted to be able to see Peter privately, face to face, with no window of separation so you could show your abuser that you did not fear him, although...you did fear the true identity of Peter, Heinrich, very much, for that side of him was a spitting image of his terrorist father Cesar. Your hopes were that it would make you stronger. Of course, Luke was against the idea at first and it wasn't because it could put his job in jeopardy and he didn't call you crazy either...it was because he was concerned for you after you broke down and confided in him about what Peter did to you. It was then that he understood your need to face him with little restriction, for Luke too, felt that way about his own abuser...his apathetic father.

Pulling out your phone, you opened a previously received text from Luke that simply stated "The deed is done. Enter at your own risk. Please be careful."

While staring at it, just as you had when you arrived in the prison's parking lot, the feeling of falling punched you in the gut harder than it had the first time. It was real now. All you had to do was make your cold feet warm up and move.

"I.D. please and then sign in on the visitor's log while I confirm this pre-arranged visit." the corrections officer responded after you explained the situation. "You can then put your personal belongings in the lockers and when the inmate is brought in, you must walk through and pass the body scan before entering the room. You will then have 30 minutes and a guard will remain present due to the prisoner's high risk status. A 6 foot distance is required and touching is not permitted."

Nodding, you bit your bottom lip as it quivered, then proceeded to hand him your license and sign in. As your hand trembled something fierce, you scribbled out your name, the time of 7:03 PM and the prisoner's name you requested to visit. Heinrich Faison, Peter's legal name.

Once you finished, you laid the pen down and that's when you noticed Peter's true name two entries up from your spot. Sliding your finger across the line to the visitor's name, a soft gasp forced your lips to part when you saw the name Sam Colin written in a very similar handwriting to Lee's, only the S was more serpentine with the other letters angling more to the left, almost as if the person were left handed. Not only that, but sham Sam had just been there shortly before you with a sign in time of 5:55 PM. Knowing only the little bit you knew of Lee's once dormant past, you were still 100% certain he remained highly proficient in his hidden skills and that he would still have contacts to aid him because Luke surely was and did.

Staring at the alias until the letters blurred, you instinctively picked the chained pen back up and discreetly brought it to your nose, searching for a trace of Lee's ever so potent Drakkar cologne that would consume the air in any room he was or had very recently been in. Nothing. Not a single hint of it could be detected. Would there be though? After all, if it was Lee who had been there, he clearly didn't want to be identified which is why you also knew you couldn't ask the currently distracted officer who was in the process of verifying your credentials.

Laying the pen back down, your eyes were then pulled to another name. Brad Wu, a young Chinese ex-physician currently serving a lengthy sentence for his dealings in the organized crime world as he was the nephew of Selena Wu, a ruthless Queenpin of one of the five families, the Triad. You and Jason knew him well because he was also Britt's best guy friend who, like Craig because of his father Cyrus, was forced into the dark underworld because of his blood relation to the mobstress. It wasn't Selena though who had visited Brad 3 hours prior. It was a man's name that, for some reason, sounded all too familiar. John Winchester.

Startled back to reality by the guard's voice, you were told your visit was approved and to proceed through the metal detector. Once through, passing with flying colors, your anxiety was now fueling your racing heartbeat as you were led to the private room where the rotten apple that didn't fall far from the terrorist tree would be waiting. The only difference between Peter and his father was Cesar Faison was sadistic psychopath where is Peter was a masochistic sociopath.

You now faced the ghost of the past. as he sat bound to a chair. Peter clearly was not told who his visitor was because his dark eyes lit right up with both surprise and delight when you walked in. Nothing had changed. He was still as delusional about you as ever. Just the sight of his devilish smile and the sound of his wispy voice was like the sensation of a thousand pins piercing every inch of your body. "Josephine? You came to see me. I knew you wouldn't be able to stay away."

"You're as beautiful as ever." he continued as you stood frozen beside the guard. "I love how your hair falls over the one side of your shoulder. It's so much longer now. Please...come sit with me. We only have 30 minutes. I have so much to say to you."

"I'll stand. The further away from you, the better and all you will get is 5 minutes, maybe 10, which is way too generous on my part after all that you've done to me. You have no idea how nauseated I feel right now just to look at you."

Anguish crippled his smile. "Josephine...you...you don't mean that. I..I love you. I'll be free of this place someday and I promise you, I will make everything up to..."

"SHUT UP!" you snapped as you bravely walked up to the table. "WHAT is WRONG with you??? You will never be free!! You drugged me, kidnapped me and locked me in a morgue drawer! I almost died!! THEN you were going to take me to another country against my will and make me a prisoner for the rest of my life. THAT is not love you deranged lunatic! Do you have any idea what your actions have done to me??? I still have nightmares. I am terrified of storms and the dark and I can't even get in something as simple as a fucking elevator without having an anxiety attack! And let us not forget, you shot me! I can't have children because of you!!!"

Peter had then became agitated, desperately struggling against the restraints to stand as he pleaded with you. "That was an accident! You know that! I was trying to save you from my father. He was going to shoot you Josephine! Just like he would have done that night if he would have found you with me. That's why I had to hide you in the drawer!"

"You never came back!! I ran out of air!!!"

"That's because of that boyfriend cop of yours! He screwed everything up. I had no choice to leave. I knew he would find you and that you would be alright and he did and you were!!"

"You are sick Heinrich. Just like your father!"

"Don't say that to me!! I am not him! I tried to shoot him when he was holding that gun on you at the hospital!! I never meant for the bullet to hit you!! You know that!!"

"Well it did! NONE of that would have ever happened if you had chose to be a good person and cut him out of your life like your sister did! Britt despises you too you know. You had us both fooled at one time and I despise you as well. How stupid was I to ever believe there was good in you??"

"The feeling has become mutual for my dear sis for sleeping with the enemy. You say you despise me too, yet here you are. Why not just stay away and ignore me like you have been??"

"I came here to face you and tell you to leave me alone! Stop trying to contact me. I never want to see or hear from you again Peter and I need you to HEAR ME for once. Let ...me...go. You will never have me. I feel nothing for you but disgust."

"All so you can be with that upstanding doctor?? You don't even know who he is!! I have been trying to tell you. I wrote you letters. It's his own fault his parent's were targeted and he killed my brother for it! And just look at my hand! He did this only hours ago and..."

You glanced at his bandaged hand, feeling no sympathy. "I know exactly who Lee is. He told me all about his past. Whatever happened to your hand and your brother, you both deserved it. You deserve to be exactly where you are. Were you and Cesar not in Salem that night to go after my brother??? Lee too?? It is YOU that I did not know."

Peter's eyes darkened as he leaned forward. "WE were at the hospital to find Britt and to seek refuge because once again, that meddling cop of yours had tracked us down and from what I understand, YOU followed him, so who's fault is it really that you got shot??"

"Well well well. It was only a matter of time before the sociopath surfaced. Time's up. I am so done here. That hand of yours looks pretty painful. I can only imagine what else could happen if you keep stalking me. If there's one thing I learned from my brother... No one's safe in prison."

Turning to leave, Peter's words sent your heart into your throat, but you didn't dare stop to look at him, for it would only verify to him that he was right.

"Oh Josephine...do say hello to Jason for me."

You barely made it to your car as your anxiety kicked in full force. Frantically tugging your sleeve up to reveal a rubber band around your wrist, you began to harshly snap it against your skin. It was a new trick that Craig had told you to try because he said it had helped his mother. Apparently the pain would distract her from her despair and offered much quicker relief than trying to focus on the senses and strangely....it was working to calm you too.

Now you knew that Jason and Britt were right to leave when they suspected Cyrus was onto them. Not only had Peter verified that Lee had been there but somehow...he knew Jason was alive. Lee never would have told him. That you would bet your life on, so your other bet was Cyrus had told Peter while he was in prison since they both shared a mutual hatred of your bother and that meant Peter had known for awhile.

You quickly called the last number Jason had texted you from, but as usual, it had been disconnected. He went through burner phones like underwear, but why hadn't he reached out to you with another? Could that be why you hadn't heard from Jason at all?? Had something happened to him??? And where was Britt? Her phone was completely off. Your only option now was to go to Jason's bff... Craig.

Salem

Craig had spent his afternoon chasing down another lead on his daughter, but like the other times, it led to a dead end. As he returned home, tortured, thirsty and in need of a friend, you to be specific, he stopped at your door to leave a sticky note upon it since he knew you were not there.

"Jo, Really need to see you. Wine? My place? Please stop by when you get home. -C"

Entering his apartment, he sulked and paced and drank the red liquid that would only depress him more. He then turned on the music, ear thumping loud just like he liked it. Craig enjoyed all kinds of music, but his usual go to was the softer side of rock, 70's mostly with David Bowie being the prominent preference, but this time he just hit shuffle in his uncaring state. Of course, the selection that played only added to his misery. It wasn't about Blaise though. It was about you, for the lyrics smacked him in the face just as hard as you had once before.

It used to be when I'd see a girl that I liked, I'd get out my book and write down her name. But when the grass got a little greener on the other side, I'd just tear out that page but then I fooled around and fell in love. I fooled around and fell in love. I fooled around and fell in love!! I fooled around and fell in love since I met you baby. Free, on my own, that's the way I used to be but since I met you baby, love's got a hold on me. It's got a hold on me now. I can't let go of you baby. I can't stop loving you now.

For a good half hour, Craig chose to torture himself and placed the song on repeat as he rapidly medicated himself. Soon, he dozed off in the chair only to have an arousing dream of you and the throbbing between his legs instantly awoke him.

On the borderline of both inebriation and needing a release, he then chose to take a cold shower to cure the agonizing ache but all the lathering of soap over his brawny body by his own hands only worsened the massive stiffness below him.

"Damn it!" Craig groaned as he placed one hand on the the wall for support and firmly grasped his cock with other, beginning to slowly stroke the ticking time bomb.

Closing his eyes as the sandalwood scented shampoo rinsed from his hair, creating soapy waterfalls that gushed over his sculpted shoulders, his mind tuned out the muffled music and went to the time you had tried to help him off the floor, but slipped in the paint and fell on top of him. Your mouths had been so close that he could still smell your cherry chap stick and he could still feel the petite curvy form of your body as both of your hearts pounded against each other. With his heart now pounding once again, the slow squeezing pace of his slippery strokes had become deeply intense. From base to tip, he quickly brought himself to climax, loudly panting, moaning and groaning through every jerking pulse as he watched his pearly essence shoot against the wall.

After another rinse over, he reached to turn the water off and that's when he heard your shouting voice through the music.

"Craig??? I saw your note! Your door was open! Are you ok??"

His eyes wide, he opened the shower door and peeked out. "Jo?? Yeah, yeah..I..I'm fine... H..hold on. I'll...I'll be right out."

Half ass drying his body and hair with a towel, he stopped to stare in the mirror, lightly gulping as he wondered if you had heard his pleasureful cries.

"Fuck" he whispered as he frantically struggled to slip on a satin robe and pants set over his damp body, then pulled himself together and walked out with an out of thin air and very cheesy explanation if you were to ask about it. In his line of work, he had become accustomed to lying and was damn good at it...but he couldn't do it so easily with you. It was still eating at his very soul that he knew Lee and Ethan were still legally hitched. Did it even really matter if Lee hadn't put a ring on your finger? Craig figured he would just cross that bridge when or if he got to it.

It took a moment for you to find your words when Craig appeared before you, wearing a black satin robe, wide open in the front revealing his perfectly smooth defined pecks and abs that shimmered in the soft lighting from the moisture.

Grinning at your reaction, Craig confidently swayed over to shut the music off. "Something...wrong?"

Your words finally came out in a stutter. "N..n..no...I...well. I've clearly interrupted your shower...I..I should p..probably g..go."

"Come on now Jo. Nothing to get all frazzled about. I've seen yours and now you've seen mine."

Your eyes popped. "Www..what??"

Craig chuckled and changed his course to the wine, pouring 2 glasses. "Your nighty, remember? And now you've seen me in my night attire."

"O..ohhhh." you laughed in relief. " that... well...I'm not frazzled."

Yes you were. Extremely. Did you really think a man of Craig's stature and physique would wear anything else but satin to relax in?? Afterall, the mob man wore enough silver to ward off witches and werewolves and bathed in a woodsy scented cologne that transported you deep into a fairytale forest.

"I just didn't expect to...to um...catch you in the shower...are...are you ok? I...I heard...."

"Oh that!" he swiftly expressed and handed you the glass. "Yeah, damn funny bone. Hit it on the shower handle. Not so funny though. Hurt like a bitch."

"Yeah, agreed." you smiled. "Sorry for just walking in. As usual, your music was too loud for you to hear me knock and I just figured with the invite from your note that I..."

His heavenly smile and baby blues softened, almost in a sad way. "Jo..it's completely fine. I'm really glad you're here."

"Ok, well. I know you said you're ok physically, but...are you ok...otherwise? Your note said you needed to see me and you seem...I don't know. You were playing a love song on repeat. What's wrong Craig?"

Hating to do it, he harmlessly fibbed again to keep his undying love for you a secret. "Oh that little tidbit. Damn player gets stuck sometimes. Happened when I was in the shower. Anyways, I don't want to bore you with my problems. What about you love? How was your day after the night you had? You feeling better?"

"Well, let's see. After you left earlier this afternoon, I found out I was single via Facebook which I should have already figured that after Lee's cold words to me yesterday AND then I was informed that he had another round of drunken sex with someone he claims to loathe...but I don't want to talk about that. I just can't process it right now of how little I really meant to him."

Both of his naturally arched brows arched even more as both shock and disgust raged through him, but he hid it well. Another talent he had mastered for necessary reasons. "Jo I...sweetheart, I am so sorry. Forgive me for even asking this, but...do you know who that someone was?"

It was like you could read his mind in that moment. "Oh god no. Craig, it wasn't Ethan. You know I would tell you if it were because of the situation with Blaise and how she and Ethan are both missing. It was that skank neighbor of his."

Craig's anger could no longer be concealed as a sarcastic rampage rolled out of him. "Ahh, the red porch light bitch who was carelessly watching my daughter when she disappeared. Lee knows what it's like to lose a kid but I guess his other brain didn't give two shits when it came to fucking the person partially responsible for my missing child. It might as well HAD been Ethan that he screwed or hell, even Lizzy when she was alive!!! No difference!"

Your response was soft and sympathetic. "I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I told you I didn't want to talk about it."

Feeling remorse, he downed a newly poured glass of the red liquid and sighed. "No Jo...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have blown up at you. I just can't fathom any of it. What a fool. Being lucky enough to have the love of a woman like you and then cheating on you, especially with lowlife trash like that tramp. I mean, just look at you. You're a fucking goddess in my eyes. A queen if I may. If you only knew...."

Realizing his pathetic and embarrassing words of impairment followed by an almost admission of his feelings, Craig clammed right up and went to pour another drink, feeling your eyes upon him.

"If..if I...only knew...what?" you squeaked.

He released a soft chuckle as he brought the bottle to refill your glass. "Aaaaaand, I should really shut up now before this truth serum gets me into more trouble. Sooo, how about we talk about something pleasant?"

Feeling flattered, yet awkward over his descriptively sweet admiration of you, you quickly obliged to his request. "Craig...I...I went to see Peter today."

He slightly choked on his wine, knowing he had just ordered "Negan" to take the trash out. "You..you did?? Alright. Well...I think I can understand why you went after all that you told me about him earlier today, so I'll just ask you then, are you ok? Did it help?"

"It didn't seem to at first, but now, I feel different. Absolved maybe, of many things. Anyways, regardless of your note, I was on my way to see you. Have you heard from Jason at all??"

The fear in your voice stiffened his stance right up. "I haven't. What's going on Jo?"

"Peter...he made it very clear that he knows Jason is alive and I called the last number he texted me from and it's out of service and before Jason left with Britt, he told me he believed that your dad knew too which is why they left and..."

There was no hesitation to Craig's commanding interruption. "Eh eh eh, don't call him that. Cyrus or soulless blood sucking vampire will do just fine. Let me make a quick call."

Craig bee-lined to a drawer, pulled out a phone that you knew from sight was not the one he always used and pushed one button...and from what he said to the other person, you knew it was Sonny Corinthos, the Don of the Northern Seafront... Craig's, Jason's and Jeffery's boss who all 3 were fiercely loyal too.

"It's me. Our suspicions were correct. Cyrus is aware as is Peter August....Yes, the source is credible."

Craig then walked into the back room and all you hear was his muffled voice as he continued the conversation. While he did that, you sat and nervously gulped down 2 glasses of wine and even lit up one of Craig's cigarettes, for your emotions were all over the place with all that had happened in the course of 24 hours.

About 15 minutes had went by and then you heard Craig's voice before he reappeared. "Affirmative."

"Well?" you anxiously asked as Craig walked in, sniffing the air with furrowed brows.

"Were you...smoking?"

"Sorry. Nerves. I just had one."

"It's fine love. Have all you want. Anyways..."

Craig paused and lit up his own smoke. You could tell he was reluctant to tell you what Sonny had said. "I am to let you know not to worry and that it's not a situation you should be involved in. Sonny will handle it....his words. Sorry. I tried Jo."

Fuming, you sprung to your feet. "That condescending son of a bitch! Not to worry or be involved?? He's my brother and he could be in trouble or..or.."

Your anger then turned in to sobs. "Or really dead this time."

Craig rushed right to you and placed his hands tenderly upon your cheeks. "Hey, don't think that way ok sweetheart? You know how resourceful Jason is. This isn't his first rodeo. What I think is that he is protecting the woman he loves and they are probably shacked up in one of Sonny's many safe houses until he feels it's time to resurface and he's probably protecting you too by not contacting you."

"But...but..." you sniffled. "He's not immortal Craig. If it weren't for you saving him before, he would have died then. He has no one to help him now."

"Jo, remember who he is. He has many connections and he's being cautious by not reaching out to the obvious ones. As much as you despise Sonny, he loves Jason and will use all of his own resources to find him."

You pushed him away. "Right, like all the resources you have and cannot even find your own daughter!"

You unintentionally had gutted him. The way he looked at you and then let his eyes fall away as he remained speechless made you want to wrap that rubber band around your head and snap it against your facetiously impulsive mouth.

You desperately but gently laid your hand upon his stubbly cheek and coaxed him to look at you. "Jesus, oh my god Craig. I did NOT mean that, I swear! I am SO sorry! I don't know what's wrong with me anymore. Things just fall out of my mouth when I'm upset and..."

He took your hand and slowly pulled it down to meet his other hand to hold yours inside the two as he softly smiled. "I know you didn't or you wouldn't be so sincerely apologetic.. but it's still the truth all the same. I...had a lead today about Blaise and...it fizzled as usual."

Briefly closing your eyes, you sighed and squeezed his hands. "So that's why you wanted to see me. You needed a friend and I just made you feel a thousand times worse. I'm such an asshole."

"Jo, we all say things we don't mean. You and I should both know that by now and you're not an asshole." he chuckled. "You're just beyond stressed. I get that."

Still holding his hand, you led him to the small table bar. "Stressed and losing my buzz. Come sit with me and talk to me while we get shitfaced, yes? I'm so over this day."

"Shitfaced huh? You don't have to ask me twice for that love."

It was now 10 p.m. Two hours had gone by while you and Craig emptied three bottles of wine as he reminisced about Blaise and happily shared many good memories and baby photos with you. It made him glow to say her name and speak about her and that made you so happy. His eyes twinkled like stars the entire time. His smile stretched from ear to ear and his laughs were hearty and plentiful. For that short time of normalcy, reality didn't exist and it was quite alleviating, especially to see Craig just be himself...in the song sense, a simple kind of man, something you could love and understand.

A 4th bottle had gone and 11 p.m. soon came. Craig was feeling good. Way too damn good as he had drank the majority of the wine. Enough so that his speech was slurring and he was rather clumsy, falling off the bar stool in the middle of a laughing fit which had you laughing so hard you snorted, for you too, were feeling way too damn good.

Drunkenly diving forward from your stool, you plummeted to your knees beside him to try and help him up. "Alright. Someone's clearly had way too much wicked wine besides me. Let's get you up Mr. Parker."

"Wait, wait, wait. Did you just... snort???" he asked in all seriousness as you uselessly tugged at his hand.

"Did I?" you answered with a a question as you giggled and accidentally snorted again.

Laying dead weight on his back, Craig bellowed in laughter and what a glorious sight that was, for he had long since taken the robe off and simply bore the black satin pants. "Well, unless one of those little piggies got in here that John is after, I do believe it was you sweet..." he hiccupped, "tart...I mean sweetheart."

You tilted your head. "John? You mean, Jeffrey right?"

"Seriously." you chuckled and took his hand again. "Let me get you into bed."

You stupidly set yourself up for what happened next as he pulled you on top of him and slyly grinned like a fox while his buff arms snuggly locked around your back. "Well now, that sounds like a plan."

The heat of his sweet breath and bare upper body took your breath away as the tips of your noses united. Once you were able to sever the hypnotic gaze he held you in, you tried to wriggle free as you giggled. "You know that's not what I meant. Now come on. Let me go."

The foxy grin momentarily returned, then it faded as he gazed at you. "Not until you tell me why you're the most gorgeous creature I have ever seen?"

You frowned and broke eye contact. "I can't because it's not true."

His brows pinched together. "She don't know she's beautiful? Is that what you're trying to say? Don't be coy now. You've got a convoy of men at your beck and call. I should know because I'm one of them."

Your eyes locked back onto his. "Yeah well, then why am I not good enough?"

"What?? What do you mean love? Are you referring to that demon of a nurse named Angel? She's a warthog with lipstick who's ironically been pumped more times than a farmer's well."

You hysterically guffawed and snorted into Craig's neck who released a gleeful chortle. "You know I'm right Jo. Now look at me."

You raised your head, still carrying a lingering smile as he continued. "You...are....fucking....phenomenal. Even your nose is beautiful." He then tapped the tip of your nose. "BOOP! Bee...eee...ayyy...utiful."

Your eyes widened. "Really?? Did you just boop my nose like I'm a baby??"

"Why yes I did and I'll do it again. BOOP!"

"Oh my god." you playfully sniggered. "Alright. GET UP."

"Nooooo." he whined with a grimace.

"Ok, then I'll make you."

You dug your fingertips into his ribcage on each side and aggressively tickled him.

"GAHHH!!!" he shrieked and shoved you off, then staggered to his feet panting. "HOLY HELL NO!"

"HAHA!!! Got you up."

He winked. "Yeah well I can think of easier ways to do that."

"Go. Now. Get in bed before you fall again and break a hip."

"Ooooh ouch. I'm not that old."

"No, but you're trashed and that'll do just as much damage. Bet you'll have a nice hefty bruise on your ass tomorrow."

"I'll be sure to show you if I do."

"Please don't." you giggled and and tried to pull him down the hall, but he slipped free of your grip and successfully trotted over to the stereo. "Craig, come on. What are you doing?"

"One song. One dance."

"What?? No Craig. I'm tired. You're sauced."

He took your hand and gave pitiful puppy eyes and a pouty lip. "But we're having fun. You make my shit life worth living. Please...dance with me."

You rolled your eyes. "Fiiiiine. ONE dance."

As he eagerly pulled you close, one hand on your upper back, the other on the small of it, the music began. You let your arms raise over his broad shoulders and placed one hand on the back of his neck and the other just below it. Slowly, you both moved in a perfect circle, eyes intertwined until he lowered his head to rest his sizzling cheek against yours. Closing his eyes, Craig began to sing in a whisper into your ear.

"So long, I've been looking too hard, I've been waiting too long. Sometimes I don't know what I will find. I only know it's a matter of time. When you love someone. When you love someone. It feels so right, so warm and true. I need to know if you feel it too. Maybe I'm wrong. Won't you tell me if I'm coming on too strong. This heart of mine has been hurt before. This time I want to be sure. I've been waiting for a girl like you to come into my life. I've been waiting for a girl like you. You're a love that will survive. I've been waiting for someone new to make me feel alive. Yeah, waiting for a girl like you to come into my life..."

Your eyes closed as the song went on, allowing yourself to take all of his closeness in. His scent, the way he felt against your body, the lyrics he now mumbled.

"When you love someone. Yeah, I really love someone. Now, I know it's right from the moment I wake up 'til deep in the night. There's nowhere on earth that I'd rather be than holding you tenderly."

You had to wonder, did he mean them? Or was he just singing? You were pretty sure you knew the answer and you were also pretty sure he purposely chose the song to help him express his feelings.

Sliding his cheek along yours, he now faced you, resting his forehead upon yours. His dilated eyes fluttered open and he traced his fingertips tenderly down your jawline, ceasing them under your chin as his feet also ceased and then...his lightly parted lips crept towards yours. Your eyes closed, anticipating their touch and just as they were close enough to tickle your lips, he swiftly pulled back, releasing you all together.

Craig placed one hand on his hip and the other to his mouth, his eyes glassy and wide. "I...I...think I'm going to be sick."

Off he swerved down the path to the bathroom with you chasing after him, but he swiftly shut the door before you could follow him in.

"No Jo, stay out. You don't want to..."

He paused and then you heard the upchuck. Roughly thirty seconds of silence went by in which you became concerned. "Craig???"

He did not answer so you had no choice but to defy his orders and went in. There he laid upon the cold tile, on his back, knees bent and his arm draped over his forehead as he gazed at the ceiling.

You immediately knelt beside him, feeling great empathy, for you had been in his position many times. "Oh Craig sweety, come on. Let me help you up."

In his humiliation, he said nothing and humbly accepted your help. Once he was in bed, he sighed and smiled, then turned onto his stomach to prop himself up. His lids were heavy as he tried to look at you sitting beside him. "Well that was absolutely embarrassing."

You softly giggled and placed your hand on his. "Hey, you've seen me in a bad way before, so now we're even once again. Why don't you lay back and try to sleep this off. I'll stay to make sure you're alright."

His slitted eyes fully opened. "You...you would do that for me?"

"Of course I would. Look at everything you have done for me Craig. Let me go turn off the music."

"No, please. Leave it on. It helps me sleep. I..I don't like the silence."

"Oh, ok. Let me at least get you some water."

You came back with an ice packed glass of water to find him still awake, but laying on his back under the covers. It made your teeth hurt to watch him gulp it down in less than 3 seconds.

"Ahhhhh." he sighed and sat the empty glass on the nightstand with a wobbly hand, then laid back down. "Hits the spot. Thank you Jo, for taking care of my drunk ass. It means a lot to me. You....mean a lot to me."

His eyes became heavy once more and as he desperately tried to fight it, he mumbled himself to sleep.

"I fooled around and fell in love. I fooled around and fell...."

"Asleep." you whispered as you gazed upon him, feeling rather melancholy and confused, but your mind was too scrambled by booze to sort it all out.

You laid down, keeping your distance from Craig and soon enough, you also passed out.

It was 6 a.m and Lee had just finished the last half of his shift at the hospital. He had earlier chosen not to go in due to the prison visit, but he wanted to keep busy instead of drinking himself into oblivion once again, for it was only taking a toll on his anxiety. The only problem was that it didn't keep the thoughts of you away. There was no absolution regarding you, no matter how much whiskey he drowned himself in, but he was certainly tempted to try as he sat in his office, repeatably glancing at the caramel colored liquid upon the table.

Giving in to only take one hefty swig, he gathered his things and headed out. As he was leaving, he unfortunately overheard the gossiping nurses speaking with Angel and he froze solid at the mention of your name. Concealing himself in a darkened hallway, he soon learned that you were seen in the ER for a severe anxiety attack, but the entire conversation was mostly revolved around how Craig was with you and how damn hot he was and that he and Orlando exchanged bitter words.

Immediately, he made his exit out the back to avoid Angel and ran into someone far worse... Gerry, who was walking across the parking lot. The two rivals glared each other down in their passing until Lee grabbed the detective's arm at the last second, spinning him around.

"The next time you put your lips on a woman, make sure she's available and that it's reciprocated."

Gerry looked down at his arm and then back up at Lee with a cocky grin. "Oh it WAS reciprocated. Even got a little tongue action. I'm on duty. I suggest you remove your hand before I take you in for assault."

Lee snickered and released him. "Judging by your face, looks like someone else beat me to the punch."

Gerry chuckled as he lit up a cigarette. "Yeah, you should see the other guy. Hey, you know him pretty well Doc. The tough guy ex WSB agent who thought he could fuck with me just like you think you can do right now. You know, you really should watch him when it comes to the woman you speak of. She has this tendency to have men wrapped around her sweet little finger. Gets them to do crazy things. Trust me, I know."

Lee bravely stepped forward. "I don't fucking like you."

"Hey hey hey, I like you even though you're the one who actually cheated." Gerry riposted as he blew smoke in Lee's face.

"What the fuck do you mea....you know what, never mind. It's too early in the morning for your fucking circus. Leave Jo alone. Your badge is nothing but a piece of tin in my eyes."

Lee snatched Gerry's cigarette straight from his lips and took a long drag, then crushed it beneath his foot and retreated.

Gerry scoffed and yelled back as he too walked away. "Can't do that bro. I had her love first. Remember that."

Once in the car, his entire body shook with rage as he white knuckled the steering wheel. Pulling his flask out of the glove box, he sucked it dry and then regrouped, for his main concern was your well being right now. He would deal with Gerry later if needed.

Lee then called you to see how you were doing. When you did not answer, he figured you were either sleeping or ignoring him but it didn't matter...he had to see you, for in that moment, his guilt sucker punched him over how poorly and unfairly he had treated you. Would it be too late? Would you offer him no reprieve after his heartless words? Had he pushed you too far this time? Would you choose Gerry eventually?

As he approached your door, he hesitated to knock, fearing either a slap in the face would be served or even worse, laughing in his face considering he believed he had it coming...but he would weather the storm to make sure you were alright. After multiple knocks, he decided to call you once again and when he did, his head whipped around to the sound of your ringtone coming from inside the apartment door across the hall.

Ending the call, Lee slowly made his way to the door and then he stood there in the silent hallway, listening, but all he could hear was muffled music from inside the apartment.

"Jo?" he called out as he knocked, which jimmied the unlatched door open.

Cautiously, he pushed it open to see a dimly lit empty room filled with the scent of your vampire perfume and cigarette smoke which left a floating fog in the air.

"Jo???" he called once more, but when he received no response, he stepped inside to look around.

Bottles of wine sat on the table where your purse and phone laid, blinking from his call and beside that was a full ashtray and two glasses, one revealing light sticky chap stick residue that formed visible lip imprints around the rim. And on the floor was a silky robe. Lee's heart sank into the pit of his stomach when he realized what he would soon find.

He turned to the lighted hallway and forced his feet to move. With great stealth, he followed the path that led to an open door and without hesitation, he walked inside.

It was instant, the devastation and heartbreak riddling his face and the sting of tears welling up into a glistening pool, clouding his vision. What he saw he could not unsee. You, sound asleep on the bed with your arm slung over your snoring shirtless landlord whom he assumed to be naked under the blanket that covered you both from the waist down.

As Lee moved closer to the side you were on, his furtive skills had been disabled from the shock along with the ability to think or react. Whispering your name was all he could do before he tripped over your boots that laid before his feet and stumbled into a picture frame upon the wall, knocking it off.

Your eyes blinked a few times before completely opening and then you saw him. "Lee??? Am I drea..."

Realizing it was no dream, you sprung to your feet with a screeching gasp which in turn awoke Craig. Although half awake, his mobster mode kicked right in and in merely seconds, he had a gun pointing right at Lee.

Without hesitation, you raced in front of Lee. "NOO! Put the gun down Craig!!!"

"JESUS!" Craig shouted in panic as he dropped the weapon. "Don't you EVER step in front of a gun Jo!!! What the fuck were you thinking???"

"Yes Jo...what were you thinking?" Lee calmly whispered, causing you to spin around to face him.

"To not let you die???"

"That's not what I was asking. I'd gladly take a bullet to kill this pain."

Tilting your head at him, you finally realized what was happening. "Oh noooo. No, no, no Lee. This is not what it...."

Craig interrupted with an angry growl. "What in the hell are you doing in my apartment! AND at 7 in the fucking morning?? How did you get in here?!!!"

Lee's eyes darted to him, slitting like a snake. "It opened as I knocked. You should be more careful with that. After all, there is a reason you carry a gun isn't there?"

"And here I thought I was the wise guy." Craig snapped as he put the gun away and tightened the drawstring on the pants Lee assumed he was not wearing. "Although it's MY bedroom, I'll show myself out to relieve myself after this fiasco. I don't take kindly to intruders. Be gone when I get back Dr. Pace. Next time I won't be so nice."

Craig stormed out and Lee just stared at you as if he was looking right through you. "I suppose I expected this with Gerry but with this guy? Wow, you really got me there."

"Yeah, just like you really got me too when you slept with Angel!!"

Lee's brows furrowed and then it finally clicked as to what Gerry meant by saying Lee was the one who actually cheated. "Now wait a minute. I don't know what you heard or think but..."

"Shut up! I don't even know why you're here. You ended us remember?? Fuck forever?? Back to single on social media the very next day?? All because I was honest with you about Gerry and everything else that day at the cemetery but honesty is something you know nothing about AND for fuck sake Lee. I just stood in front of a fucking gun to protect you without a single thought for my own life and THIS is all you can think about?? Even if what you think happened here DID happen, it's technically none of your damn business anymore now is it??? So let me give you a taste of your own medicine Doc...FUCK FOREVER!"

The physical pain of Lee's anxiety was written all over his face and as you sped past him to leave, purposely banging the door against the wall, he had to briefly cover his mouth in fear he would hurl right then and there.

Successfully keeping his vomit at bay, he then turned and raced off after you.

*to be continued........................

@redeemer46

[fallingblueroses]

Something I probably should have mentioned with the first part: I'm imagining this taking place during the 1600's, the age of sailing ships and swashbuckling.

***

Geoff stayed with Kathy while the others wandered off to find food. She couldn't help but worry as they walked out of sight. "It's getting dark. Won't they get lost?"

He shook his head. "We karu have very good sight in the dark," he told her. "And they won't go too far."

She nodded and fell silent for a bit. "...What was that word you called me?"

"Nikaru," he said in his deep voice. "We are karu. You are a nikaru--not karu." He looked at her curiously. "What is your word for your kind?"

"I'm a human," she said, her cheeks reddening at his gaze. She was having a hard time avoiding looking at his bare body--and he wasn't attempting to hide anything.

"Human," he said, trying the word out. "And do you have a word for my kind?"

"Merman," she said. "Mermen for more than one."

He tried that one out as well, then frowned. "Karu sounds better."

"That's what I'll call you then," she said. The darkness crept up on them as they sat there in silence. She shivered a little and drew her clothing around her. "...Aren't you cold?"

"Cold? No, the air is warm."

"Not for me," she said, frowning.

He studied her for a bit, then walked to the tree line. There was still enough light that she could watch as he pulled several large fronds from the trees, then came back to her. "Stretch out."

She did, and he covered her with the fronds. It didn't help much, but it was better than nothing. "Thank you."

He nodded in return and sat back down beside her. A few more minutes passed, and a cry rose from the forest. Geoff's head tilted as he smiled. "Ah, Eli has had good fortune."

After a bit longer Eli came out of the forest with what looked like a goat on his shoulders. It wasn't long before the others returned as well, all holding something. When Cesar got closer he frowned to see Kathy and looked at Geoff. "Why did you bury her like that?"

"She's cold."

"Cold? It's not cold here."

"She is nikaru, and not like us," Geoff reminded him.

Kathy tried to head off an argument. "Once I can find something to help build a fire I'll be all right."

Eli frowned as he began to pull the skin away from the meat. "A fire? What is that?"

She blinked. "You don't use fire? How do you cook your food?"

"What is 'cook'?" Cesar asked.

Kathy blinked. "Cooking is...heating up food to make it edible."

The men all looked at each other, confused. Layne spoke next. "So you can't eat anything we found?"

She looked at the oranges Cesar had brought. "I can eat those." Cesar handed her several and she began to peel one with her fingernails. It was a little disquieting to see the karu tearing the animal apart and eating it raw, especially in the rising moonlight, but she made sure to avert her eyes. After all, how could she complain about their eating habits after they had saved her life? Layne had caught two large land crabs, and J had found some slightly overripe bananas which Kathy also ate.

The six of them ate in silence until Eli asked "How did you get out in the water? What happened to your vessel?"

Kathy swallowed a bite of banana. "I was going on an expedition to explore the new territories," she said. "Our ship got caught in a storm and broke apart."

"Ah, so you are an explorer?" Geoff asked.

She laughed a little. "Oh no. I was hired on to cook and sew for the men."

Layne tilted his head. "Sew?"

"To make and repair clothing." She tugged at the sleeve of her dress for emphasis.

"So you make armor?" Geoff asked.

"No, not armor. Just regular clothing. To cover the body for warmth and modesty."

"Modesty?"

Her face began to heat up again. "We humans...we nikaru...prefer to have our bodies covered. To...keep from embarassing ourselves and others."

Cesar frowned. "How strange. We have no need to do that. We stay warm by ourselves. And why should we cover ourselves for the comfort of others?"

"Again," Geoff said, "she is nikaru and different from us."

Kathy tried to change the subject. "Are there other nikaru on the island?"

J shook his head. "No. This is our island."

Geoff smiled at her. "You will be safe here. We will take care of you." Eli and Cesar nodded.

Kathy tried to keep her face neutral. The prospect of being stranded on an island was more than a little frightening. But at least she wasn't all alone. And surely, eventually, a ship would have to come along.

[vmygdvlv]

After hours: echoes of a night !

Genre: angst. series / part.ii

Pairing: valerio x riccardo + (some edoardo & cesare in the mix) italian boys!au

Summary: valerio finds himself drawn into the world of his older university peers, eager to fit in and prove himself. When they invite him out for a night of drinking and revelry, Valerio is excited but anxious, knowing that the crowd he’s with is more experienced and reckless.

Warnings: emotional distress, substance abuse, peer pressure, aggressive behavior

The morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, harsh and unforgiving, as Valerio groaned and rolled over in bed. His head pounded, each throb a painful reminder of the night before. He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the fog that clung to his mind. Every part of him felt heavy, weighed down by a mix of regret and the lingering effects of too much alcohol. But it wasn’t just the hangover that made him feel sick; it was the memory of Riccardo’s furious expression, the disappointment in his voice. Valerio couldn’t forget it, no matter how hard he tried. As he lay there, trying to piece together the events of the night, his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He grabbed it, squinting at the screen. Some friends’s unread messages from the night before.

Cez : Ricky called me after he found you. Are you okay?

Edo: You good Val?? Rick said you were pretty out of it, man.

Valerio stared at the messages, his stomach churning. The last thing he wanted was to face everyone after how things had gone down. But there was no avoiding it. He knew they’d all be coming over soon—probably to hash out what happened, probably to lay into him, just like Riccardo had. He sighed, dragging himself out of bed. Riccardo, who had spent the night in the spare room, emerged into the living room, his expression tight with lingering frustration. By the time Valerio made it to the kitchen, Riccardo was already there, leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee in hand. His face was hard, but there was a trace of concern in his eyes. The air between them was thick with unspoken tension. Valerio hesitated in the doorway, unsure of what to say.

“Morning,” Riccardo finally said, his voice flat.

“Morning,” Valerio replied, avoiding his gaze.

He could feel Riccardo’s disapproval radiating from across the room, but he wasn’t in the mood to deal with it. Not yet. Before they could say anything more, the bell’s ring broke the silence. Valerio reluctantly got up to answer, revealing Edoardo and Cesare on the other side. Both greeted him with casual smiles, but there was an undercurrent of tension in the air, the aftermath of the previous night still hanging over them.

“Can we come in?” Cesare asked, his tone clipped. Valerio nodded, stepping aside to let them in. They filed into the living room, each of them casting glances at Riccardo, who still hadn’t moved from his spot in the kitchen. The atmosphere was tense, like a storm cloud ready to burst.

“Hey, man,” Edoardo said, moving closer. “How are you feeling?”

Valerio shrugged, avoiding eye contact. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Cesare followed, his gaze flicking between Valerio and Riccardo, sensing the strained atmosphere. “We figured we’d check in on you, see how you’re doing after… everything.”

Valerio’s jaw tightened, irritation flaring up. “I’m fine, Cez. I don’t need a babysitter.”

Edoardo, sensing the tension, chimed in with a light-hearted tone. “Hey, we’re just here to hang out, no lectures. We all have our nights, right?”

Riccardo, who had been silent up until now, crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, his expression hardening. “Some of us know when to stop before things get out of hand.” The comment hung in the air, sharp and accusatory.

Valerio’s eyes narrowed, a defensive edge creeping into his voice. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Riccardo began, his voice low and controlled, “that last night was a disaster, Vale. You were reckless, and your so-called friends took advantage of that. You don’t see it, but you were this close to being in serious trouble.”

Edoardo stepped in, his tone calm but firm. “Ricky, come on, it wasn’t that bad. Vale was just blowing off some steam with his friends. We’ve all been there.” His voice was calm, almost too calm, as if he was trying to smooth things over before they escalated. “I’m not saying it was smart, but he’s not the only one to blame.”

Riccardo’s eyes narrowed as he turned to face Edoardo. “You’re defending him?” His voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. “You think what happened last night is just blowing off some steam? I don’t call that normal.”

Edoardo bristled, his own frustrations bubbling to the surface. “You’re overreacting. He didn’t need you to swoop in and save him. He’s not a kid, and he doesn’t need you controlling every aspect of his life.”

The words hit him hard, but his expression remained stoic. “I’m not trying to control him. I’m trying to keep him from making mistakes that he’ll regret later. But you wouldn’t understand that, would you?”

Before Valerio could respond, Edoardo’s voice cut through, low and heated. “And who keeps you in check, Ricky? You’re so busy trying to control everything that you’re pushing everyone away. Vale isn’t a project for you to manage.”

Riccardo’s temper snapped. “You think I’m trying to control him? I’m trying to protect him from ending up like you—drowning in mistakes you can’t take back.”

The words hung in the air like a slap. Edoardo’s eyes darkened, his expression a mix of hurt and fury. Edoardo’s face darkened, a hint of guilt flickering in his eyes as Riccardo’s words struck a nerve. “And now, what’s that supposed to mean uhm?”

Riccardo’s voice was cold, calculated. “It means I’ve seen how you acted on your nights out. You’re defending him because you see a bit of yourself in him. But this isn’t about you, and it’s not about being right. It’s about keeping him safe.”

Edoardo didn’t back down, his expression hardening. “And what’s your plan? To scare him into submission? You can’t control everything he does. None of us can—to be honest, you need to stop to control everything we do.”

Riccardo’s jaw clenched, the accusation striking a nerve. “You’re one to talk about control. You’ve got your own issues, Edo. Or have you forgotten all those nights where you didn’t know when to stop?” The room went still, the air thick with the weight of Riccardo’s words.

Edoardo’s thoughts had drifted elsewhere—back to his own battles with alcohol, to nights he wished he could forget. He knew what it was like to lose control, to let the bottle dictate your actions. And seeing Valerio now, caught in the same destructive cycle, brought an uncomfortable realization crashing down on him. It wasn’t that long ago when Edoardo himself had stumbled home after one too many drinks, his vision blurred, his mind clouded with poor decisions. There were moments—flashes—where he remembered Riccardo’s concerned gaze, the unspoken judgment, and the subtle way he’d try to steer him away from another drink. He had brushed it off back then, laughed it away with the same bravado Valerio had shown last night. But deep down, he knew Riccardo saw right through him, just as he was now seeing through the youngest boy.

Edoardo leaned forward, breaking the silence. “Look,” he started, his voice calm but edged with a quiet plea, “He made a mistake, sure. But we’ve all been there, right? We’ve all had those nights where things got out of hand. What matters is that he’s here now, that he’s okay.”

Riccardo’s eyes flicked over to him, a shadow of something unspoken passing between them. He knew exactly what his friend was trying to do, and the subtle tremor in Edoardo’s voice didn’t go unnoticed. Riccardo’s jaw tightened slightly as he replied, choosing his words carefully. “It’s not just about one night. It’s about the pattern, the choices. You can’t keep pretending it’s all just harmless fun when it’s starting to spiral.”

Cesare, who had been watching the argument unfold, finally stepped in, his voice steady and calm. “Guys come on, this isn’t the solution. We’re supposed to be here for helping, not fighting with each other.”

Valerio, who had been silent throughout the exchange, suddenly snapped. “You’re all talking like I’m not even here! I don’t need you fighting my battles for me, and I don’t need you treating me like I’m some kind of problem that needs fixing.”

Riccardo turned to him, his voice softer but still firm. “We’re just worried about you. Last night was out of control, and I don’t want to see you go down a path you can’t come back from.”

Valerio scoffed, his irritation boiling over. “You’re always worried. Always hovering, always trying to fix things. Maybe I just want to live my life without you breathing down my neck.”

Edoardo, sensing an opening, nodded in agreement. “He’s right. He’s old enough to make his own decisions. We all make mistakes, but he should be able to learn from them without you constantly watching over him.”

Riccardo’s jaw clenched, the frustration evident in his eyes. “I’m not trying to suffocate him, but someone has to look out for him. You weren’t there last night. You didn’t see how bad it was.”

Cesare, seeing the argument spiraling out of control, stepped forward, raising his hands in a calming gesture. “Enough. This isn’t getting us anywhere. We’re all friends here. Let’s just take a step back and talk this through.”

But Valerio, still simmering with anger, wasn’t ready to let it go. “You all think you know what’s best for me, but you don’t. I’m not some kid who needs rescuing every time things get a little rough.”

The room fell into a tense silence, the weight of Valerio’s words hanging in the air. Riccardo, feeling the sting of Valerio’s rejection, looked at him with a mix of hurt and frustration. “Vale, I just want what’s best for you. But if you can’t see that, then maybe I’m wasting my time.”

The words were harsh, cutting deeper than Riccardo intended, but the frustration of the last few days had taken its toll. Valerio’s eyes hardened, his expression unreadable. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, his phone buzzed on the table. Valerio glanced at the screen, and his face darkened as he read the name. It was one of the older peers from the night before, a reminder of the chaos that had started all this. Ignoring the tension in the room, he took the phone.

Andrea

Hey man, u good?? You kinda took off last night (11.04am)

Let me know when you’re free (11.07am)

Valerio’s grip on the phone tightened, his eyes flicking to Riccardo, who stood silently, his expression unreadable. The room felt charged, as if it was on the brink of another explosion. But this time, Riccardo took a deep breath, calming himself. “We seriously need to talk about this. But not like this. Let’s take a step back, cool down, and figure this out together.”

The words were reasonable, measured, but Valerio wasn’t ready to listen. The anger, the embarrassment, and the pressure all coalesced into a wall he wasn’t ready to break down. “Well, seriously, I don’t need your help. I can handle this myself,” his voice tinged with defiance. The argument wasn’t over—far from it—but for now, it simmered just below the surface, waiting for the next spark to reignite it. Valerio’s abrupt tone echoed in the room, hanging heavy in the tense silence that followed. He put his phone down with a finality that made it clear the conversation was over—for now.

Riccardo’s eyes narrowed as he processed Valerio’s words, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. He was torn between wanting to shake some sense into Valerio and stepping back to let him make his own mistakes. But the protective instinct within him was too strong to ignore. Before the oldest could respond, Cesare cleared his throat, breaking the thick silence. He had been watching the tension escalate, hoping it would fizzle out, but it was clear that wasn’t going to happen.

“Look,” Cesare began cautiously, his tone diplomatic, “we’re all just trying to help here. Vale, we get that you want to handle things on your own, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to listen to Ricky. He’s only looking out for you.”

Valerio shot him a look, the defiance in his eyes barely masked. “I’m not some project for him to fix. I know you guys think you’re helping, but this isn’t your problem.”

Edoardo, who had been quiet since Riccardo’s subtle dig earlier, felt the need to jump in, his loyalty to Valerio driving him to speak. “He’s right. He doesn’t need you playing the overprotective brother. Maybe if you backed off a little, he wouldn’t feel so cornered.”

Riccardo’s gaze snapped to Edoardo, his temper flaring again. “This isn’t about playing big brother, Edo. Last night was a mess, and it could’ve been worse if I hadn’t stepped in. You didn’t see what I saw—he was out of control, and those older guys were more than happy to push him further.”

Valerio bristled at Riccardo’s words, his temper flaring up once more. “I didn’t ask you to step in! You act like you’re the only one who knows what’s best for me, but you’re not. You’re just—”

“Just what?” He interrupted, his voice rising. “Just trying to keep you from doing something stupid? Just trying to make sure you don’t end up regretting things later? Yeah, Valerio, that’s exactly what I’m doing. Because someone has to!”

He clenched his fists, his voice hardening. “Maybe I don’t want your help! Maybe I just want to figure things out on my own without you breathing down my neck all the time!”

The room fell into a tense silence again, the argument teetering on the edge of something deeper, something that had been building for a while. Riccardo took a deep breath, trying to rein in his anger. He could see that Valerio was pushing back harder than ever, but he couldn’t just let this go.

Cesare, sensing that the situation was getting dangerously close to boiling over, tried to steer the conversation in a different direction. “Look, maybe we’re all just tired and stressed out. We’ve been through a lot these past few days. Let’s not tear each other apart over this.”

But Riccardo wasn’t ready to let it go, not yet. “You’re right, we have been through a lot. But this isn’t something we can just brush off. He’s not seeing the bigger picture here, and if he keeps going down this path, things are going to get worse.”Valerio, feeling cornered and defensive, shot back with an edge in his voice. “The bigger picture? You’re acting like I’m falling apart, but I’m not! I’m handling things the way I need to, and I don’t need you judging me for it.”

Riccardo’s expression darkened, his frustration reaching its peak. “Handling it? You call getting wasted with a bunch of guys who don’t give a damn about you handling it? Come on, you’re smarter than this. You’re better than this.”

Valerio’s eyes flashed with anger, his voice trembling slightly. “Don’t you dare lecture me about being better. You think you know everything, but you don’t. You have no idea what it’s like to feel like you’re constantly under a microscope, like you can’t make a single mistake without everyone jumping down your throat. It’s fucking exhausting!”

Riccardo’s temper flared at that, but before he could respond, Valerio’s phone buzzed again on the table, breaking the tension momentarily. Valerio grabbed it, his expression souring as he read the message. He muttered a curse under his breath, his frustration mounting.

“What now?” Riccardo asked, his tone sharp.

Valerio didn’t answer immediately, his eyes scanning the screen. Then he turned the phone toward Riccardo, showing him the message. It was from one of the older peers, another taunting remark, this time with a link to the video from the night before. The video was even worse than he’d imagined—Valerio, clearly intoxicated, egged on by the older students as they pushed him into doing more shots, the entire scene a blur of loud music, slurred voices, and reckless behavior.

Riccardo’s face went cold as he watched the clip, his anger mixing with a deep sense of concern. “This is what you call handling it?” he asked, his voice low, almost dangerous. “This is what you wanted to do last night?”

Valerio’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t back down. “It’s not your business what I do with my friends.”

“Not my business?” Riccardo’s voice rose again. “Valerio, this isn’t just some harmless fun. These guys don’t care about you. They’re just using you for a laugh, and you’re letting them.”

“Enough!” Valerio snapped, his voice cracking with a mixture of anger and something deeper, something vulnerable. “You’re not my dad, you’re not in charge of me. Just—back off!”

Riccardo opened his mouth to retort, but Cesare stepped in, once again, his voice firm. “Alright, stop it. You’re acting immature and this isn’t helping anyone. You need to cool down before you end up saying something you’ll both regret.”

But Riccardo’s gaze remained locked on Valerio, his frustration barely contained. He was about to argue further when he realized the futility of it—Valerio wasn’t going to listen, not now, not while he was this defensive. Taking a deep breath, Riccardo forced himself to step back, his voice strained. “Fine. You want space? You’ve got it. But don’t think this conversation is over.”

Valerio watched as Riccardo turned and left the room, his emotions swirling in a confusing mix of anger, guilt, and exhaustion. As the door closed behind him, Valerio slumped back onto the couch, staring blankly at the video still playing on his phone. The tension in the room was palpable, and for a moment, no one spoke. Finally, Edoardo, who had been watching the entire exchange with a troubled expression, shook his head and muttered, “This is messed up.” Valerio didn’t respond, his thoughts a jumbled mess. He knew, deep down, that Riccardo was right—that he had gotten in over his head. But admitting that, even to himself, felt like a defeat he wasn’t ready to accept.

The tension lingered in the air long after Riccardo left the room, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hallway. Valerio remained slouched on the couch, staring blankly at the phone in his hand. The video had stopped playing, but the scenes replayed in his mind, each frame a reminder of how far things had spiraled out of control. His heart pounded with a confusing mix of anger and shame. Part of him knew Riccardo was right, but admitting that felt like giving up some essential part of himself—his independence, his pride. Edoardo shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing over at Cesare, who was watching Valerio with a careful, measured expression.

Finally, Edoardo broke the silence, his voice softer than before. “You okay, man?” Valerio didn’t answer immediately. When he finally looked up, his eyes were hardened, his defenses back up. “I’m fine. Just tired of everyone acting like I’m some kind of screw-up.”

Cesare sighed, leaning forward. “No one thinks that. Ricky’s just worried. We all are. Last night—it got out of hand, and we’re just trying to make sure you’re alright.”

Valerio clenched his jaw, frustration flaring up again. “I don’t need everyone treating me like a kid. I know what I’m doing, alright? Let me breathe.”

Edoardo frowned, a pang of guilt tightening his chest. He could see so much of himself in Valerio—he knew what it was like to push back, to act like everything was under control when it wasn’t. “Look, I get it,” Edoardo said, his voice careful. “But Riccardo’s not wrong, either. Those guys… they’re not really your friends, you know?”

Valerio shot him a sharp look. “And who are you to say that? You barely know them.”

Edoardo hesitated, a flicker of something vulnerable crossing his face. “I know enough. And I know what it’s like to get caught up in that scene. It’s easy to think you’re just having fun, but it can turn on you fast.”

Valerio’s gaze narrowed. “You’re saying I’m just like you, huh? That I’ve got a problem?”

Edoardo stiffened, feeling the sting of the words. Before he could respond, Cesare stepped in, his voice calm but firm. “Alright, watch it. We’re not here to judge anyone. But you’ve got to understand that we’re coming from a place of concern, not control.”

He scoffed, but the edge in his voice was less sharp than before. “Yeah, well, I don’t need concern. I need people to trust me to figure things out.”

Cesare nodded slowly, choosing his words carefully. “We do trust you, Vale. But trust goes both ways. You’ve got to trust that when Riccardo, or any of us, step in, it’s because we care, not because we think you’re incapable.” There was a heavy pause as Valerio absorbed Cesare’s words. He looked down at his phone again, the screen dark and blank now, and took a deep breath.

“I get it, okay? But you’ve all got to back off a little. Let me deal with this.”

Edoardo exchanged a glance with Cesare, who gave a slight nod. Edoardo turned back to Valerio, his tone gentler now. “Alright. But just… don’t shut us out, man. We’re here when you need us.” Valerio didn’t respond, but the tension in his shoulders eased just a little. He knew deep down that he wasn’t handling things as well as he wanted to believe, but admitting that felt like crossing a line he wasn’t ready for. Just as the silence settled over the room again, Valerio’s phone buzzed, breaking the moment. He glanced at the screen and felt a jolt of irritation as he saw the name of one of his older peers flash across it. Without thinking, he answered the call, putting it on speaker.

“Valerio!” The voice on the other end was loud, almost obnoxiously so. “Man, last night was wild, huh? We’ve got to do that again sometime.”

His expression hardened, a mixture of embarrassment and anger tightening his chest. “Yeah, about that…” he began, but the peer cut him off with a laugh.

“Oh, don’t be a downer. You’re one of us now. Just need to loosen up a bit more, and you’ll fit right in.”

Riccardo’s words from earlier echoed in his mind, and a fresh wave of anger surged through him. “You guys left me at the club, remember? That’s not exactly how friends act.”

The peer’s laugh faded slightly, replaced by a tone of indifference. “Come on, don’t be so sensitive. We figured you could handle yourself. Besides, it was all in good fun.” Valerio’s grip tightened on the phone, but before he could respond, Riccardo’s voice broke through the tension. He had walked back into the room without anyone noticing, his expression dark and resolute.

“Fun? Is that what you call it? Getting him trashed and leaving him to fend for himself?” There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line. “Who the hell is that?”

“The guy who had to pick up the pieces after you bailed,” Riccardo shot back, his voice cold. “And let me make this clear—Valerio’s not your entertainment. He’s done with you and your bullshit.” Valerio’s eyes widened, torn between anger and relief as he watched Riccardo take control of the situation. The peer on the other end stammered something incoherent before the line went dead, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. Riccardo stared down at Valerio, his expression softening slightly, but the anger was still there, simmering just below the surface.

“This isn’t over. But for now, you need to figure out who your real friends are.” He met his gaze, the weight of Riccardo’s words sinking in. He knew Riccardo was right, even if he didn’t want to admit it. But there was still that stubborn part of him that resisted, that didn’t want to give Riccardo the satisfaction of being right. Before he could respond, Riccardo turned and walked out of the room again, leaving Valerio to sit with his thoughts. Edoardo and Cesare exchanged a look, unsure of what to say. They both knew this was just the beginning of a much longer conversation—one that wouldn’t be resolved in a single morning.

Valerio’s thoughts churned, each one crashing against the next in a relentless wave of frustration, guilt, and defiance. The silence stretched out, thick and uncomfortable, as Edoardo and Cesare exchanged wary glances. They were used to Riccardo’s overbearing nature, but the intensity of the confrontation had left even them on edge.

Finally, Cesare spoke, his voice cautious. “Vale, he’s just worried about you. You know that, right?”

Valerio stared at the phone in his hand, his mind replaying the events of the night before like a broken record. The drinking, the laughter that had turned hollow, the way his so-called friends had ditched him without a second thought. But what gnawed at him most was the way Riccardo had stormed in, taking control of the situation like Valerio was some helpless kid who couldn’t handle his own life. It made his blood boil.

“I don’t need him handling my shit,” Valerio muttered, more to himself than to the others.

Edoardo leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “He’s not trying to handle it, man. He’s trying to protect you. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?” He shot back, his eyes flashing with anger. “Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it. It feels like he doesn’t think I can handle anything on my own.”

Edoardo bit back a sigh, recognizing the familiar tone in Valerio’s voice. It was the same defiance he had used countless times when people tried to tell him he had a problem. He had always pushed them away, too proud or too stubborn to admit he was spiraling. He could see Valerio was on that same path, and it terrified him.

“Look,” Edoardo said, choosing his words carefully, “I know what it’s like to feel like people are coming down on you, like they don’t trust you. But sometimes, they’re right to be worried. Sometimes you’re too deep in it to see how bad things are getting.”

Valerio’s jaw tightened. “I’m not you, Edoardo. I’ve got this under control.”

“Do you?” Edoardo’s voice was sharper than he intended, his own frustration bubbling to the surface. “Because last night didn’t look like control to me. It looked like you were being used by those guys, and you didn’t even realize it.”

Valerio’s eyes blazed with anger. “I don’t need a lecture from you, alright? You’re not exactly a saint. Nobody here is.”

The words hit home, and Edoardo flinched, the accusation cutting deep. But before he could respond, Cesare intervened, stepping between them like a mediator. “Okay, cut the shit,” he said firmly. “Drop the attitude Vale, because we’re not your enemies here. We’re just trying to make sure you don’t end up in a worse situation.”

Valerio crossed his arms, his anger still simmering just below the surface. “You’re all making it out to be more than it is. It was one night.”

“Was it?” Riccardo’s voice suddenly cut through the tension as he re-entered the room, his expression stony. He had clearly overheard the conversation, and the look in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t done with this discussion. “Because this feels like it’s been building for a while now.”

Valerio glared at him. “Oh please, you’re overreacting.”

Riccardo stepped closer, his presence imposing. “Maybe. But I’d rather overreact now than have to scrape you off the pavement later because you decided to trust the wrong people.”

Valerio’s chest tightened, the reality of Riccardo’s words hitting harder than he wanted to admit. But he couldn’t back down now, not after everything that had been said. “You don’t get it. You think you’re helping, but you’re just suffocating me. I need space to figure things out on my own.”

“And what about when that space gets you into trouble?” Riccardo shot back, his voice rising. “You think those guys care about you? They left you to rot as soon as things got messy. That’s not friendship, Valerio. That’s manipulation.”

Edoardo, sensing the situation escalating again, stepped in front of Riccardo, trying to defuse the tension. “Ricky, ease up. We’re all on the same side here.”

But Riccardo wasn’t backing down. “Are we? Because it seems like everyone’s just enabling him, pretending this isn’t a bigger problem.”

Valerio’s anger flared. “I don’t need you to babysit me!”

“I’m not trying to babysit you!” Riccardo snapped, his control slipping. “I’m trying to make sure you don’t end up in a situation you can’t walk away from.”

“Like what?” Valerio challenged, his voice rising. “What do you think’s going to happen?”

“Worst case?” Riccardo said, his voice deadly serious. “You get into a car with someone drunker than you are, or you get into a fight you can’t win, or you pass out in some alley and never wake up. That’s what I’m afraid of, Valerio. That’s what keeps me up at night.”

The room fell into a heavy silence as the weight of Riccardo’s words sank in. Even Edoardo, who had been ready to argue further, couldn’t find a response. Cesare looked between them, his own concern etched on his face, but he didn’t know how to bridge the gap that had grown between them all. Finally, Valerio looked away, his anger replaced by a hollow feeling he couldn’t shake.

“I’m not that stupid,” he muttered, though his voice lacked conviction.

“I know you’re not. But you’re also not invincible. None of us are.” Riccardo’s expression softened, but his resolve remained.

Valerio didn’t respond, his thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess. The truth was, he didn’t know where to go from here. He felt trapped between his pride and the undeniable fact that Riccardo might be right. He couldn’t meet his gaze. The reality of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks. He felt sick, ashamed, but also angry at himself, at those so-called friends, and at Riccardo for being right all along. Riccardo handed the phone back without a word, then turned to leave the room, his patience finally exhausted.

“You figure out what you want. But don’t expect me to just stand by and watch you destroy yourself.”

As he walked out, the tension in the room remained thick and suffocating. He had never felt so lost, so conflicted. He wanted to lash out, to deny everything, but deep down, he knew the truth was staring him in the face. Edoardo shifted uneasily, his own guilt and fear gnawing at him. He wanted to say something, anything, to break the silence, but he knew Valerio needed time to process everything.

Finally, Valerio spoke, his voice low and strained. “I—I screwed up, didn’t I?”

Cesare, who had been silently watching from the sidelines, nodded slowly. “Yeah, Vale, you did. But we’re talking about Ricky, he gets aggressive when scared. You know he loves you and he will always, always, worry about you. About all of us. So it’s not too late to fix it.” Valerio looked up at his friends, the weight of their concern pressing down on him. For the first time, he realized just how far he had pushed them away, how much he had taken their support for granted. And now, standing on the edge of something he couldn’t fully understand, he wasn’t sure how to make things right. But one thing was clear—he couldn’t do it alone.

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Home Sweet Home AU: Descent

(written by @deadmuttsbones and edited by me)

The following is a transcript of a recording found on the missing person's camcorder, found in a drawer by his bed. The drawer contained a Desert Eagle MK 1, a rosary, a Bible, and a notebook. The room was found in a state of disarray, however [NAME REDACTED] Heathcliff claimed this was not usual for her son. She stated she had not known he had kept a gun by his bedside.

Transcript begin:

[CAMERA ABRUPTLY BEGINS RECORDING. APPEARS TO BE THE OUTSIDE OF [[NAME REDACTED FOR THE SAFETY OF MANDELA COUNTY]]'S RESIDENCE. M. HEALTHCLIFF MUTTERS UNINTELLIGIBLY, AND BEGINS TO SPEAK.]

 Heathcliff: Alright, I [HEATHCLIFF STAMMERS] don't know what is wrong…with that place but—

 [VICTIM PAUSES TO COUGH]

 Heathcliff: There's something really bad in there—

 [HEATHCLIFF GAGS, WORDS AFTER ARE SLURRED]

 Heathcliff: Can't stay there. Something’s fucking wrong—

 [VOICE OF [[NAME REDACTED]] IS HEARD]

 T----s: Mark? Hey, [VICTIM #1 PAUSES TO BREATHE] please don't tell me you ran off into the woods this late man-

 [HEATHCLIFF FUMBLES THE CAMERA, DROPPING IT. THE TWO MISSING PERSONS’ LEGS ARE SEEN IN THE SHOT.]

 Heathcliff: I'm fine, I'm fine. I just—

 T-r--s: No, you can’t just…God, you're not fine and that's obvious, just…walk back with me alright? It’s late and…you know what’s been going on lately-

 [HEATHCLIFF MUTTERS "NO" UNDER HIS BREATH FOR 3 SECONDS BEFORE SPEAKING]

 Heathcliff: I can’t go back, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I just…can't.

 [VICTIM #1'S VOICE SOFTENS SEEMINGLY TO COMFORT VICTIM #2]

 Tor--s: Mark, listen, it's…okay. I know you're jumpy, and I know...you don't like my house but please, you can’t just…run off like that.

 [VICTIM #1 PAUSES.]

 Tor-es: Just…tell me what's wrong.

 [HEATHCLIFF'S VOICE IS RASPY AND WAVERS IN PITCH]

 Heathcliff: It’s watching me, Cesar. I can feel it.

[HEATHCLIFF BREAKS INTO A SOB]

Heathcliff: You gotta believe me, man. Please.

[VICTIM #1 RETRIEVES CAMERA, POINTS IT AT GRASS AS HE EXAMINES IT]

Torres:…Jesus, how spooked were you?

Heathcliff: Cesar, please don’t touch—

Torres: Look. You…don’t have to stay over if you don’t want to…but you do know that you’re always welcome there, don’t you?

[HEATHCLIFF REMAINS SILENT]

Torres:…Look man, why don’t we just…go back to the house, you can pack your things and…I can see you at school next week, how about that?

[HEATHCLIFF SIGHS]

Heathcliff: Alright…fine...okay. [VOICE AUDIBLY SHAKING]

Torres: Alright. Now come on, my Mom’s gonna be pissed if she knows we’re out this late.

[VICTIM #1 INSPECTS CAMERA AS VICTIM #2 SIGHS DEEPLY]

Heathcliff: Cesar…do you…ever hear…breathi—

[VICTIM #1 SHUTS OFF CAMERA. FOOTAGE CUTS.]

[END TRANSCRIPT]

[jofie-does-things]

If your feeling it maybe something along the lines of:

I am clearly not attracted to you that's why I'm trying to avoid you at all costs/ I don't know how I'm supposed to focus on this meeting with you staring at me like that.

For a possible Machiavelli x reader. 😖

I was today years old when I found out that Ezio is actually older than Machiavelli by 10 whole years!!

Divide

Summary: “Niccolò Machiavelli is not a man to beg, but you bring him near enough.”

Pairing: Niccolò Machiavelli x Mercenary!Reader (AC: Brotherhood)

Word Count: 2.9K

Genre: Angst with a pinch of fluff

Warnings: Depictions of slight gore

A/N: Sorry about the wait on this! I had such a tough time trying to figure out how to write this man into a romantic scenario, but I finally ended up with something I’m happy with! Hope you enjoy! <3

No beta we die like Ezio’s fam

“I am clearly not attracted to you that’s why I’m trying to avoid you at all costs.”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to focus on this meeting with you staring at me like that.”

Deep beneath the stained glass rooms of the Vatican, where Gregorian hymns of reverence morph into the screams of those who dare defy the Borgia family, Niccolò Machiavelli follows Micheletto Corella through the dense fog of suffering. The shadows of the thin hallway are suffocating, even with the guiding light of the torch in his hand.

The dark colors of the robes that Cesare’s personal assassin wears bleed into the shapes cast onto the stone walls. If Niccolò didn’t know better, he’d have mistaken his silent demeanor for a phantom, a long dead innocent with no hope of escaping here alive. The hairs on the back of his neck and his instincts kept him from believing it.

A low groan to his left caught his attention, steps momentarily slowing to peek into the cell next to him.

What hit him first was the smell.

Inside the small room, a man– or what was left of him– had clearly been left to rot. Whip marks and knife cuts deep enough to sever tendons littered his body. There were chunks of flesh torn off at the ends of his appendages; where the starving rats took their share and the man had been too weak to bat them off. The scene sends an imperceptible shiver down his back. He’s not normally one to shy away from gore, but the torture is different from the quick killings he’s done.

“This way.” The gravelly voice of the man up ahead echoes down the chamber. Niccolò notices that he’d continued on into the darkness ahead, seemingly indifferent to the lack of light. It’s not for the first time that night that he’s left wondering what deal Micheletto has made with the devil to become the man he is.

The dirt underfoot grinds against the floor as Niccolò follows after.

They come to a stop in front of a cell, equally as unassuming as the previous doors. Its rusted hinges screech loud enough to drown out the groans of the other prisoners.

Inside there’s a man strapped to a chair. The moonlight shining through the grate far above them has the blood shimmering like rubies. He’s more alive and put together than the previous man, but littered with wounds more precise. Incisions meant to hurt. To torture. Meant to incentivize into giving up information.

Niccolò is surprised he’s lasted so long that Micheletto himself has to deal with him.

The assassin steps forward, shrugging off his doublet and unsheathing his dagger. With silent steps, Micheletto swings the pommel towards the man’s jaw. It connects with a sickening crack that has Niccolò wincing minutely. The man groans in pain, leaning as spit and blood drool out of the side of his mouth.

“Honestly, if that had worked, then you would not have been summoned here, Micheletto.”

The voice comes from the shadows at the back of the room. A figure that Niccolò hadn’t registered in its stillness emerges, tutting at the actions of the assassin in front of him. He lets out an aggravated noise, choosing to ignore you.

You’re sauntering towards the two men, taking graceful, deliberate steps to avoid the mess of blood pooling beneath the prisoner. Your hand rests delicately on his back as he’s hunched over the ground. The touch brings him back to the present, sitting up to the best of his ability.

Gentle fingers swipe across the blood on his chin, both assessing the impact and guiding his eyes toward you. Niccolò’s skin prickles.

“Can you still speak?” You coo at the man. You’re rubbing gentle circles into his jaw and leaning into his space and Niccolò is amazed at the enthusiasm with which the man nods his head as a broken “Y-yeah” leaves his mouth. If he weren’t so mesmerized by your actions himself he would’ve been shaking his head at how easily his recruit caved.

A small smile curves over your lips and you eye him out of the corner of your eyes. It has his breath hitching and the sly look on your face has him remembering why you’re so dangerous in the first place.

“I do not know how I'm supposed to focus on this meeting with you staring at me like that.”

It catches him off-guard for a split-second– something that hasn’t happened to him in years– but he schools his panic and racing heartbeat into neutrality. He takes a step forward, clearing his throat as he bows and greets you formally. You slide off the side of the chair where you’ve perched yourself and pace toward him. Your unyielding gaze sets his nerves alight and the air around him seems to buzz.

“It has been so long since we have had someone who knew how to have fun around here,” you cast a look at the ever silent Micheletto, who only grunts in response. The curl of your smile and the glinting of your teeth in the torchlight reminds him of a panther. He has the distant thought that Ezio would love you, if you weren’t currently working for the Borgia. “Nice to see you again, Niccolò.”

A curt, “Likewise” is all he feels comfortable mustering in the presence of the two other men in the cell. The word serves as a dismissal to you and a reminder that he has other priorities at the moment. As unshakeable as ever, you take his gruffness in stride; with an amused giggle and the roll of your eyes.

“Let’s get on with this, shall we?” Niccolò sends Micheletto an impatient look. The assassin wastes no time in laying out his personal armory on a rickety table off to the side.

“Aw Niccolò, I thought the reason why you came here with him was because you were too attracted to me to resist.” The playful pout and the weight of you against his chest sends an electric current up his spine. Looking away, he regards you with his best attempt at a scowl.

“I am clearly not attracted to you, that's why I'm trying to avoid you at all costs.”

“Ah, so it is because of me,” Your cooing has his brain going haywire, but your proximity has him fidgeting with a nervousness that hasn’t plagued him since he was a child. Your gaze slides to the man tied to the chair. “Or is it something else?”

His breath hitches imperceptibly. The comforting warmth of your hand is scorching now, branding every groove of your palm into his skin. You turn your scrutinizing gaze back to him, watching with clever eyes, like a fox toying with its prey. The ends of your lips tilt up with the slight narrow of your brow. His skin feels too tight.

As Micheletto steps up to the prisoner, Niccolò lets out a silent plea for forgiveness. 

Then, the butcher begins to carve.

~~

Minutes feel like hours in the short time that Micheletto works, separating skin from muscle and muscle from bone. Starving rodents linger along the edges of the cell, trained to associate the pained screams with their next meal after the torture is over and done with. The resulting iron tang fills Niccolò’s senses as he focuses on the fruitless venture of the assassin in front of him.

Beside him, you stand uncharacteristically silent. Your turn at coaxing any information out of the man having failed minutes prior. If Niccolò himself hadn’t been there to oversee his own recruit, he doubts the man would’ve put up such a strong defense to your charms.

When the time was up, you’d sent the prisoner a pitying glance and stepped back with a lingering touch to his cheek as Micheletto approached to take over.

There’s a tenseness in you that he’s had to train himself to recognize. No doubt you’ve observed the same in him in the time he’s spent down here.

He chances a comforting brush of his pinky against yours; too light to truly grasp onto, but solid enough to know it’s there. The slight twitch of your finger in return is enough to let him know that it’s acknowledged and appreciated. 

He knows you aren’t one to bask in the gore that Micheletto delivers. You’ve always had a penchant for mischief; especially if it serves to reward you with a full purse and an entertaining time. But this crosses far into the territory of brutality that neither of you care to venture.

Minutes pass without a single interrogating question having left the butcher. The agonized wailing echoes through the cell; only interrupted by another round of skin-splitting hacking. The next series of pleas as Micheletto raises his blade to flesh again sends Niccolò marching forward.

“Enough!” The assassin’s blow is interrupted as Niccolò grabs his wrist, wrenching the blade from his hand. “That is enough! This is no longer an interrogation. Leave him alone!”

Niccolò’s grip on the instrument tightens as Micheletto shifts forward to snatch it back, gravel crunching underfoot.

“We are here to get answers from him!” The assassin hisses as he swings for the knife, Niccolò drawing back just enough to keep it out of reach. He maneuvers around the man as he stumbles, marching to the table laid out with his torture utensils and folding the pack up in one swift movement.

“We won’t get answers from him if you kill him before we can ask.” Niccolò snarls as he shoves the leather case into Micheletto, knocking him back just enough to stumble over himself. “And if he dies before we can find Ezio Auditore, I’ll be sure to point Cesare to the man responsible.”

The prisoner’s pained moans echo in the cell as Micheletto storms out, knocking you with his shoulder on the way out. A small smirk of approval curls at the edge of your lips as you watch the man retreat back through the prison. You glance once more at the man, before turning to Niccolò.

“Signora.” He bows and gestures for you to make your leave ahead of him.

Your smirk stays rooted to your face, combined with a look that he’s not sure he should be finding attractive or worrisome.

“Signore.” You bow your head in return and leave him with a knot of concern in his chest.

Alone in the cell, he chances one last look at the prisoner as he schemes an escape plan in his head.

He will have to move faster than expected.

~~

Navigating the same maze is exponentially harder in the dark. A good thing that Niccolò had memorized the route here and back. The squeaking of a rat running off accompanied the squeal of the hinges as he slowly nudges the door ajar.

The cell is in the same state of chaos as they’d left it. His recruit, now untied, lay in a heap next to the chair, almost as if he’d slid right off and stayed there. That’s probably what happened, in all likelihood.

With silent, deliberate steps, Niccolò rushes forward to prop the man up. He checks his pulse. Alive. He breathes a sigh of relief. A pained groan leaves the man as he helps him up, the weight of him tugging while Niccolò struggles to stand.

There’s an exit the long way around, through labyrinthian halls that exit through the back of the vatican. It’s an inconspicuous entrance for captives that weren’t worthy to have their blood spilled on marble floors to meet their fates in the neverending darkness.

He just had to make it out, meet Volpe’s men, and the man would live to see another day of freedom.

“Somehow, I knew I would find you back down here.”

The melody of your voice sends a shiver down his spine, heart momentarily freezing as your figure is revealed behind the door of the cell. He stutters in his step, the weight of the prisoner lolling forward and pulling Niccolò to steady him.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is only slightly strained. Slow, graceful steps bring you to him.

“I would ask the same of you,” you gesture to the man slung across Machiavelli’s shoulder, “but it seems I’ve interrupted a plan of yours.” The warmth of your breath ghosts over the shell of his ear as you lean in.

“To answer your question, mio caro, Cesare hired me to catch you.”

Blood roars in his ears and his heart drops at the revelation. He searches your face for any sign that this might be a joke of yours to throw him off. The serene expression on your face never wavers. Cold in its rigidity as you watch him piece together the fact that this is no prank of yours.

It’s the only time you’ve ever delivered an answer so blatantly.

In the darkness of the cell, he plants his feet, heart racing a mile a minute as he considers the obstacle you’ve become. Silence weighs like a blanket over the two of you. Despite the way you recognize the look of realization on his face, you don’t move to speak; lips quirked in amusement as the words tumble over each other in his mind.

He is not one to plead, especially not in his line of work. A simple “So?” is all he can muster through gritted teeth.

“So, we have fifteen minutes before Cesare’s guards flood this prison in search of you.” You move to position yourself underneath the prisoner's other arm and begin to pull him forward with you.

It takes Niccolò more than a moment to recover from the whiplash of your admission and your apparent help before he’s digging his feet into the ground to spur the three of you faster. He’ll have the time to work through the confusion when he’s back to Tiber Island.

~~

Maneuvering a half-dead assassin recruit through the pitch blackness of the prison tunnels has its challenges. You appear to have memorized the way out entirely. He wishes he had the time to question you. The weight of the man and the oppressive darkness keeps him silent.

Every noise is a skipped heartbeat for Niccolò; either manifesting as a rat or a creak of the prison structure itself. At his side, you coo quietly to the recruit, keeping him quiet so as not to alert anyone to the prison break.

Freedom comes into view with the sight of moonbeams spilling over the gravel floor. It’s surprisingly easy to force the lock open and slip out into the marbled courtyards of the Vatican.

A cart waits in the shadow of the pillars off to the side, the ebony stallion tethered to it tosses its head with impatience. The two of you haul the recruit to the cart. Niccolò lays him in the hay, promising medicinal help soon, before he turns back to you.

If circumstances were different, he probably would call you ethereal in the light of the moon.

If circumstances were different, you might’ve appreciated the compliment.

Instead, the quiet of the night remains as you linger; neither of you willing to say a word.

A small huff of amusement escapes you, stepping forward and brandishing a black lump of cloth. He sends you a confused look as he accepts it.

“You didn’t expect to make it out without some sort of disguise did you?” A mirrored puff of laughter escapes him in return.

“Well, until ten minutes ago I did not know I was being hunted.”

“Right, you would have planned for it otherwise.” You say with an eye roll. He settles the cloak on his shoulders with a flourish.

You’re retreating to the looming marble fortress and before he can think better of it, he’s tugging you into a kiss.

It’s all unspoken longing and a tangle of heat. Your mouth moves against his in a way that makes up for the skill he lacks. If you had more time, you’d probably tease him for it. But you don’t and he sinks further into the feeling of you, savoring the way your body presses against his. Your arms are thrown around his shoulders, an action altogether surprising but not unwelcome to Niccolò.

He almost abandons his mission then and there.

Almost.

It’s a moment too short when you break away from him, your arms brushing their way down his shoulders to meet his forearms. The touch leaves his skin burning in its wake. You move to pull away, but he holds you there, looking insistently into your eyes.

“Come with me.” It’s barely a whisper; to you, it’s deafening. You pull away with a sadness in your face that he wishes he could kiss away.

“I cannot. Cesare will be looking for me and it will only lead straight to your organization.”

To you– but he doesn’t need to hear you say it to know.

Niccolò Machiavelli is not a man to beg, but you bring him near enough. Any protests are silenced as you draw a velvet pouch from your cloak and shift it into his hands. The weight of the coins are as heavy as his heart. You fold his fingers over it and press a lingering kiss to his knuckles; soft as the velvet he holds.

Then you pull away; the skin where you were, cold in the evening air.

“Grazie,” he bows his head to you, “Signora.”

“Signore.” You mirror him; the amused smile curves your lips again. Like the embrace never happened.

He watches you go for a few moments before he’s pulling himself up into the driving seat and setting the stallion off at a brisk pace. The velvet pouch sits attached to his belt; its weight, a comfort as he makes his way home.

You’ll probably be on a ship, embarking for new lands by the time he finishes his journey to the hideout.

He hopes he’ll see you again.

Knowing you, it’ll be sooner than he expects.

[undrsk0re]

Walking home

Ash just gotout of work a little bit later

MiM au by @moonlightsmasquerade

Im hoping to god i wrote cesar right ówò

Itd been a week.

A week sinced hed moved there and he was already starting to feel paranoid.

Ash had presumed that mandela county was having a monster movie competition. It wouldve explained all the people who looked less like people and more like creatures from the depths of his subconscious. Everyone hed ask about it replied affirming his belief. But now and again, itd feel off. And tonight was one of those nights.

Ash was walking home from working at Mandelatech. The air felt like it was coated in frost and not even the full moon in the sky could pierce the pitch blackness of the streets infront of him. He pulled out his phone, turning it on and turning on the flashlight, his phone becoming an ivory beacon, combined with the phone screen reflecting off his face, his location was... obvious. And it was probably not the best odea to be this easy to spot. But, as far as he could see, he was completely isolated in the dark.

"...huh.", he muttered under his breath, looking around and shining his phone in different directions, the light dispersing the black haze around him.

"Its...real quiet out here."

He couldnt help but feel a little bit unnerved by the eldritch silence around him. Every howl of the wind startling him just a bit more, sounding more and more wolf like with every gust that passed through his hair. The tense feeling in his chest growing more intense and suffocating, as if something was curling around his ribcage, ready to snap it clean in half. He could hear his breathe stuttering and fracturing with every step and was almost sure that he was shaking.

"I'll be home soon, ill be fine". He was taken aback by how shaky and silent his voice had suddenly become. There was nobody around, why was he whispering?

"Alright ive only got a few more kilometers to go and ill be fine. Its not that big of...a-"

He trailed off. His thoughts replaced by a concerned silence as he swore he could feel a presence somewhere. He darted his flashlight around, all his hair standing on end and his eyes quivering in their sockets. But nobody was even there. He kept checking around him, growing more and more nervous as he kept seeing the same buildings around him, cleared by the beam of light from his phone. Until he eventually realized that he was worrying about a non existent issue.

"Ash, what the hell..??"

He facepalmed, as he started to rationalise his situation and calmed down.

"God. I probably looked so dumb doing that. There was literally nobody there and i still panicked. Wow. "

He reverted his direction towards where he was going before and kept walking, not noticing the pair of blood red glowing circles observing his every breathe. Advancing slowly and without disturbing a single atom in the air. Ash started feeling tense again, he couldnt shake that feeling of being watched, but he tried to sonder on his way home. His paranoia grew, his eyes rattling and his breathing felt heavy and glasslike. Every now and then he'd catch a glimpse of the silent sentry watching on, but he tried his best to ignore it as a hallucination. Until he heard a voice call out to his from the dark.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing out here?! Its dangerous, yknow"

Ash flinched, losing balance and swiftly turning around to the source of whoever spoke from the night, his phone beam breaking the shadows obscuring everything around him. Unveiling who he was being spoken to by.

His hands trembled, threatening to drop his phone onto the hard pavement, and sweat ran down his face as he stood, locked in eye contact with whoever he had encountered.

It was a person? Ash couldnt tell for sure. His hair was inky black and his eyes gleamed like a cars headlights. But the most unsettling thing about this person was how, bat-like he was. As far ash could see, this guy had bat like ears and possibly had wings, and his fangs looked like white daggers that reflected the light of his phone.

"Who- who are you??"

"I should be asking the same question! Why are you out here?!"

"Im going home from work-? I got out abit later than usual"

The person sighed, clearly concerned about ashs safety.

"Its dangerous out here at night yknow! You have no idea what could be lurking!"

Ash became more unsettled

"What do you mean, what to do mean by "what could be lurking?!""

The person didnt really elaborate

"Nevermind, its not too important. Just get home quickly.", he stated, firm in his tone, only making ash more curious and concerned

"...what-"

"Dont worry about it"

Ash could only think about that as the person walked away into the pitch black, before quickly continuing down the street, gradually walking faster and faster as time went on, practically sprinting down the street by the time hed gotten home. Forcing the door to his small home open and hurrying inside before slamming it shut again.

He was home. He had the time to ponder what had just happened.

He collapsed on his bed, turning his phone off, letting the flashlight keep shining as he processed the events of the last few minutes. Especially the strange bat man who'd warned him about dangers in the dark

"What the hell did he mean by that-", he murmured to himself, twiddling his thumbs together and slowly growing more paranoid. "Why did he look like a bat-. No, wait. He looked like a vampire. Ive never seen someone wander round in movie makeup. Was he filming..?" A small thought popped into his head. What if it...

"Nono...that...couldnt have been a real vampire could it..? Vampires arent real"

He started thinking a bit harder. Everyone else in town had weirdly realistic special effects and costumes too, that he couldnt put logic to. The thought of being wrong scared him, and he tried to shove his paranoia to the back of his subconscious. Monsters arent real, he kept repeating in his head, hoping itd relax his nerves. But it was futile.

He could only bring himself to mutter one thing.

"Im starting to think that something isnt right about this film festival"