#and having to throw all of that away has made me homicidal

[wintaebear]

.

[thegeeksideofsr]

Over Heated

An: just a lil silly fic, not proof read

***********************************************

Florida. The job has to be in Florida during the hottest month of the year. The kind of heat that makes you irritable and constantly sweaty.

Best way to survive at this point is shorts tank tops and an AC unit on high enough to make a room a freezer.

The job was a relatively quick and easy. But now we have to wait for our flight tomorrow, at two in the afternoon.

The team is currently occupying a table in a pub. Good food, cold drinks, and music that doesn't make me want to kill someone.

The thought of cool shower and the bed awaiting me is helping with the homicidal urge. And food helps too, I suppose.

The only downside to the hotel is that I have to share with Eliot. Not that he's a bad roomie, he's actually excellent. Neat and thoughtful, especially because someone thought it would be funny to put us in a single bed room, and that someone knows that I like Eliot a little bit, and now we have to share a bed, the others all got rooms with double beds. And Eliot and I were the only co-ed.

I'm gonna kill Hardison. Slowly. Maybe I can make it look like an accident.

"So, you're tellin' me, you got scurvy?"

Eliot's low voice pulls me from my day dream.

"I almost got scurvy," Hardison explains. "Nanna caught it before it got bad and made me drink like a gallon of orange juice a day. Was not fun. You know what happens when you consume that much fruit? It's not pretty. I'm tellin' you it was like a -"

"Ew Hardison!" I exclaim, throwing a crumpled napkin at him. "TMI, dude. TMI."

"Damnit, Hardison."

"What's scurvy?" Parker asks, mouth full of food.

"It's when you're body doesn't have all the nutrients it needs, specifically vitamin c. You get it from fruits and vegetables, and if you don't get enough of it you get real sick," Eliot explains.

"It's why El and I try to feed them to you and Hardison and much as we can," I add.

"It's not anything to worry about really," Hardison says with a smirk, while waving a french fry around. "It's not a thing. Parents made it up to make kids eat their vegetables."

"Oh, interesting." Parker shrugs and continues to eat.

"No, Park-" Eliot starts, running a hand down his face to rest over his eyes. "Damnit Hardison."

I shake my head, then turn to Nate and Sophie to see if they want to be any help, but they are completely oblivious, having their own conversation. Giving each other bedroom eyes and thinking they are being subtle.

I roll my eyes and sigh.

I look down to my plate. My food is already gone and my drink only has a swallow left.

I grab my cup, down the last of the liquid, then push away from the table.

"Alright. I don't have the patients for this. Hardison, good luck trying to undo this one."

I turn and walk away, when Hardison yells after me.

"Hey! What about your bill?"

"You get to cover it for telling Parker that scurvy isn't real."

I flip him off over my shoulder as I open the door and leave.

The restaurant is only a few minutes walk from the hotel, so I don't have to be out in the heat long, thank goodness.

I walk through the front lobby, waving to the young woman, Gemma, behind the desk, then to the elevator up to my room.

The building is cool enough, AC on throughout, but once I unlock my door , heat floods out.

Damnit. One of us must have forgotten to turn the AC on before we left.

I enter the room, like walking into an oven, across the room to the AC unit.

Opon inspection, I find that no matter the buttons I push, nothing comes from it.

Shit.

I go to the phone on the side table and call down to the front desk, the call answering after a couple rings.

"Front desk, how can I help?"

"Hi, Gemma, I'm in room 302, and the AC unit is not working and it's an oven in here. Is there any body who could take a look at it?"

"Oh, shit. I will call maintenance to check it out, and have a couple fans sent up in the mean time. I'm sorry for it going out."

"That's alright. It not your fault. Thank you for your help."

"Of course. Maintenance should be there in a few minutes."

"Alright, thanks."

I hang up and flop back on the bed.

The air stale and unmoving.

I get up to open the window, standing next to it and enjoying the air. It may be hot outside, but the air moves.

A knock arrives on the door after a few minutes.

I go to the door and open it to reveal an older gentleman with a tool box in hand.

"I hear you are having some AC problems," he says.

"That I am. Please come in." I gesture for him to come in. "Thank you for coming. I hope you can fix it."

"I'll do my best," he says as he begins to examines the unit.

I sit on the bed and watch him take of the front of the unit, exposing the inner workings.

He tinkers and grumbles for a few minutes, before standing and turning to me.

"No good." He says, shaking his head. "One of the lines is broken and we don't have the parts on hand. It's out of commission until I can order the parts."

My heart sinks.

"Are you sure?"

He nods.

"Alright," I sigh. "Thank you for trying."

"You're welcome. Why don't we go ask Gemma if there is a empty room for you."

I nod, then get up and grab my room key and wallet. Then follow him out and head to the lobby.

Once there, he explains to Gemma about the unit, and asks if she could find another room for me, then head of towards the back.

I step up to the front desk, resting my arms on top, as she begins to type.

"Is there anything available?" I ask.

She gives me a sympathetic look, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry," she says. "Everything is full. The earliest I could get a room is tomorrow afternoon."

"We leave tomorrow."

I close my eyes, and run my hand over my face.

"It's ok. You said you had some fans?"

She nods.

"We do. I will have them sent up. They aren't as good as an AC, but it'll keep the air moving."

"Thank you, Gemma."

As I turn to head back up to my room, I see Eliot come in the entrance.

"Hey," he greats. "What going on?"

"I'll explain on the way up." I tell him, then walk towards the elevator.

Heim following behind.

Once in the elevator, I explain what happened.

"Great." He groans as he tosses his head back.

Once we get back to our room, the fans have already been dropped off, so we place them around the room to try to cool it down.

"Alright," I sigh, digging through my suitcase for clothes. "I'm going to shower."

"Why? Just gonna get hot again." His tone dripping in annoyance.

"Yes, but I'll be clean and hot." I snip back.

I grab my clothes and slam the bathroom door behind me.

The water is cool and refreshing. It takes away some of the frustration I had towards Eliot, but I'm still annoyed at him.

Once I'm done I put my pjs on, shorts and a tank, hopefully I'll be cool enough overnight.

I exit the bathroom to find Eliot, sprawled across the bed, right arm propped behind his head as he holds his book in his left.

He's only in his tank top and boxers, and the way he's laying, the hem of his top has ridden up to expose some of his stomach. And his arms are now on display, the fake tattoos Hardison and I placed yesterday are now visible, no longer covered by his button up.

The sight sends a heat through me, not helping in the slightest in the oven of our room.

I walk to my suitcase and shove my dirty clothes in.

"You okay?" He asks.

"I'm fine."

He then mutters something and goes back to reading.

I roll my eyes at him, crab my book and settle on the bed next to him, shoving a spare pillow between us.

We stay that way for a few hours, not talking, but at least it wasn't awkward.

When the words on the page begin to blur together, and read the same paragraph over again, I finally decide to put it away and get some sleep.

I tuck my book mark in, and place it on the nightstand, turning the light off, and shuffle down into the bed.

"Goodnight, Eliot." I say as I get comfortable.

"Night," he grumbles.

He moves a few minutes later, turning off his side lamp and settling in bed.

We lay back to back, like we have the past few nights. The only difference now is that it's like a sauna now.

I lay in the bed, blankets tossed off to the foot of the bed. I can feel Eliot radiating heat.

Rolling over, facing him, trying to find some part of the sheets that might be cool still. And I do, but it's gone in a flash.

I can make out his profile in the dark. He lays on his back, hand over his stomach, breathing shallow, and still as a board.

"You're staring," He mumbles.

"No m'not."

"You are. And to jostle the bed every time you move."

"'M just trying to get comfortable but I'm hot."

"So'm I. But I'm still trying to sleep."

I huff, sitting up on my elbow, leaning over him slightly.

"Easy for you to say. You aren't laying next to a radiator. Do you know how much heat you put off. It's like an oven in here, and you are putting off heat. How do you expect me to be able to sleep when it's this hot. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna get heat exhaustion or -"

He moves so quickly I don't have time to react. He grabs my side in one hand and pushes me back into the bed. His body is pressed into mine as he pins me to the bed. Not so that I can't get away at all, but to make me stop moving for a moment.

"I have slept in worse conditions, and survived. So, you better quit complaining about how hot it it is, before I get you a reason to feel hot."

We lay there, body's pressed together. His eyes glow slightly with the light from the street lamps.

"That a promise?"

***********************************************

I sit at the table of the hotel's dining room table, head resting on my hand trying to wake up.

A hand on my shoulder gains my attention, I open my eyes to see Eliot's hand placing a mug of coffee in front of me.

I smile at him in thanks as he sits next to me.

The first sip is warm and comforting, mixed up perfectly. Of course it was.

"What's that on your neck?" Parker asks, pointing to the mark on my neck.

Her question is like a bucket of ice water dumped over me.

I look to her, bring a hand to my neck. I thought my hair had covered it, but it must've shifted.

"Um, I burned it, on a curling iron," I lie, hoping she'll except it.

"But your hair isn't curled. And Eliot has a similar one."

I look to Eliot, his gaze fixed on Parker, his expression neutral.

My gaze falls from his face to his neck, and sure enough, on his neck hidden by his hair, is a bruise I had left last night.

He finally looks at me, but before either of us can say something, Hardison, Nate, and Sophie join us at the table.

We all exchange groggy 'mornings' before Parker breaks the silents.

"She said she burned her neck with a curling iron," she points at me, then to Eliot. "But he has the same kind of mark, and he doesn't use a curling iron."

My face gets hot. I lean my elbows on the table and bury my face in my hands, trying to hide from the rest of the team.

"Got damn!" Hardison exclaims. "You did the nasty!"

***********************************************

[satosugusandwich]

𝔏𝔢𝔱 𝔐𝔢 𝔖𝔢𝔢 𝔜𝔬𝔲’𝔯𝔢 𝔐𝔢𝔞𝔫…

True Form!Sukuna x Fem!Afab!Reader (This is an AU!!! Sukuna is not a homicidal maniac cannibalistic murderer! I think he’s sexy and my morals say no dick from crazy murderer BUT dick from crazy 😍)

CW: violence in this chapter, threats, bloodiness, implied sexual violence and objectification

Description: You've been friends with Yuji Itadori for some time now and have seen the best, the worst, and the strange in all your years of knowing him. You've never thought he was one to have any crazy secrets and well... you were wrong. And now the demon bound to Yuji is bound to you too! How fun! Good thing that you aren't stupid and won't fall for a being that by no means should you have ever interacted with! Right? Right...?

*despite this being an aged up version of yuji, there will be no sexual stuff involving him, also the violence is only in the first chapter with a few mentions after that!!! Cross posted on Ao3 under Spicycrunchroll! THERE WILL BE LOTS OF SMUT LATER ON!*

Chapter 1: Never Again.

Poor you, stuck with a gay best friend and his gay boyfriend and exclusively terrible, gross men. The struggle of getting a good man was hard enough, let alone getting some good dick. Even gay men will tell you how bad some dudes are. Its one thing to finish in 2 minutes and cry after, at least there's sympathy, but a whole other thing to just be kicked out of the guy's house immediately and left wearing d r y panties with cum on your shorts. Yeah, never hooking up again, you tell yourself each time. Now, you found yourself wiping the oil off your face with a clammy hand while dialing Yuji's number, having just been booted out this guys house in the middle of the night. It rang only about twice before he picked up.

"Please don't tell me something bad happened." He said on the other line.

You sighed, walking to the end of your date's driveway and sitting on the ground. "Worse than usual. Can you pick me up? I'll send you the address." Your head hung low and your eyes felt heavy, wanting to cry but not having the energy to do so. At this point, you're never fucking anyone again. Let alone agreeing to suck them off before you get off. "I should've known that all his talk were lies."

You could hear him breathe in. "Yeah, I'm coming. Wanna stay over?" He asked jubilantly, as if to raise your spirits.

You smiled softly. "Could you stay at my place instead?"

"Hell yeah!"

You said your goodbyes and opened your phone, aimlessly scrolling on social media while looking for something to distract you from the disappointment of being used up and left to the corner, dehumanized again by a shitty man with a big ego. God, it made you sick. It wouldn't take long for Yuji to get to you, but it wasn't fun waiting either. Each minute ticked on by as if an hour had passed and all you wanted to do was throw away your shorts and shower off the stench of vape juice and alcohol. You didn't want to get in his car and start sobbing about how you wished you never did what you did, not because Yuji wouldn't listen, but because of your own embarrassment. Itadori has always been kind and much more level-headed (at least with this, he's usually just as stupid as you) so its extra embarrassing to have to tell him you sucked off a guy who didn't even get you wet. At least he was clean, you tell yourself, deleting Tinder from your phone for the last time. Never again will you take subpar dick from grown men who act like children! No, from now on, your body only allows worthy men, men that would worship you like you'd worship them!

After sulking for another five minutes, the engine of a car in the distance rumbled in your ear. Straightening your back, your head turned in the direction of where it’s approaching. It’s approaching way too fast for a regular suburban neighborhood. Rising to your feet to take a step back, it already turned down the street you happened to be on and you could hear sirens go off in your head, especially as you noticed that none of their lights were on and they definitely didn’t have tags. The van sped past you but they started to slow down before they reached the end of the street. You felt your heart rate surge when you realized they came to a complete stop. At that moment you realized that they were turning around.

Quickly, your legs brought you to the house you had just left and you banged on the door for a few seconds and screamed.

“Hey! Let me back in!!! It’s not safe!” The roar of the car started again and your intuition told you to run so that’s what you did.

Fuck, who knows who these mother fuckers are! Your mind is racing thinking about what they could potentially do if they caught you. Did they know you were here? Did they just happen to see you? Or… did the motherfucker inside of that house tell them you were here? Oh fuck… that’s why he kicked you out.

Tears started falling from your eyes as you ran through these people’s yards, you could see lights coming on in some houses, but it was no use because the car behind you stopped and three men came out the side door. You prayed that your human survival instincts would kick in and catapult you to go faster than you were, but they were bigger than you and right on your tail. Your legs ached and burned, practically sprinting and trying not to trip in the road. You didn’t dare look behind you, scared to slow yourself down, and scared of them. You kept on running and running until you reached the end of the road and saw headlights.

“Yuji!” You screamed, recognizing the shape and color of his car. With you out in the road, he stopped abruptly and you could see his body jerk with the impact. The men behind you cursed themselves but you felt hands on you faster than Yuji could process what was going on.

“Get her now! He’s coming behind us we’ll throw her in!” The man lifted you and you screamed again, but a hand swiftly covered your mouth. Yuji was out of the car and lunged at the guy holding you captive but was quickly stopped and apprehended by the other two.

“The kid has some fucking balls!” The biggest of the guys holding Yuji shouted, earning a strong blow to the chin. You thrashed against the man’s body as the large van from earlier came up right behind you.

Yuji looked at you as blood dripped from his nose. “Y/n! I got it, I promise!”

You held out hope and believed him even as you were thrown inside the van and the driver pulled away from the scene, leaving the two men with Yuji and you with a man wearing all black pressing you into the floor of the van. Tears spilled from your eyes, angered and terrified at the same time.

“Looks like we got a real good catch!” The driver harrumphed. “Bet she’ll go for a pretty penny.”

Your mind practically stopped when you heard those words. You were going to be sold, like an object, like a slave. The horror of it all made your body go numb and eyes go wide and then you closed them.

“Please.” You begged. “Please let me go.” Your voice was hoarse and you could taste your own tears as your mouth opened.

“No can do. We were told that you’d fetch a high price with your skills. Don’t worry, some girls get a good owner.” His voice was menacing and cold, but he spoke as though he actually fucking believed it. He didn’t even laugh at your pain like a monster would, he was just indifferent, emotionless.

“Please.” You begged again. “I can’t do it, please let me out!” This time your voice raised. “Help!” Your mouth was stuffed with cloth and your face was buried more into the floor as he bound your wrists.

The driver started to chastise the other man. “Why didn’t you gag her right away, the dumb bitch is louder than a dying cat!”

The other man cussed back. “Shut the fuck up, there isn’t nobody coming after us!”

The van stopped so fast you and the man were flung to the front of the car, colliding with the back of the front seats.

“What the fuck!” The man that was holding you down swore. His arms were now off you and the bindings he attempted were loose enough that you released your wrists and went for your gag. “No you don’t!” He reached for your clothes, yanking you back. Before you were held against your will again, the entire van split down the middle, from door to door. The back half of the van was flung off to the side before it became a cut up mess in the middle of the road.

Then you saw him. His hair was the same color as Yuji’s but was much less controlled. You could see what looked like four arms and a giant smiling mouth in the middle of his stomach. Every single person in the van went still and silent, staring at him. The creature looked inside and dead at you, bright red eyes gleaming in the moonlight. All four of them. Even the two on the side of his face that looked almost like a mask. He can’t be real. The tattoos all over his body were arranged in such a pattern that it was beautiful but something that scared you even more.

The creature spoke. “Now.” His gaze shifted from you to the man holding you. “I prefer it when I can get a good fight out of my opponents, but you lot are pathetic.” He looked disappointed. “Normal humans…”

No one spoke and he pouted. “Not a single retort? None of you pathetic excuses of flesh can say a word? You had a lot to say about selling the woman, can’t you entertain me? Or are your brains so simple you can’t think outside of making money off selling one of your own?”

Their own? Did he mean… humans?

The man behind you was shaking. And you could definitely feel his pants getting wet.

The creature before you sucked his teeth. “Boooring.” He narrowed his eyes. “And pathetic.” The vehicle was slashed once again, this time cutting into thirds, leaving you and the man holding you isolated in the middle while the other two thirds, including the driver collapsed around you. You heard squelches of flesh from the front and gasping. “You said she sounded like a dying cat, hm? Since you prefer the quiet so much, I thought I’d help you.” The creature chuckled.

The man holding you finally let you go, and he turned around to see the driver. You didn’t look. You knew what the creature did. Scurrying away, you realized headlights were approaching again and… it was Yuji!

“Ahhh, the brats already here. Well, I can’t kill you lot so how about I leave the piss-soaked one with a lesson.”

You didn’t know if you should thank the monster or run from him. You decided to run toward Yuji’s car.

Another crack resounded in your ears and then a gut-chortling scream resounded from behind you. “There we are. Something nice and fast. I hope they don’t find you until the morning.” You didn’t want to know what he did, you didn’t want to dare to turn around, all you cared about was the car door opening for you and Yuji’s comforting presence.

He looked so relieved to see you. “Y/n. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. Don’t worry about those guys. I got you now. Sukuna won’t kill them, he can’t, but they’ll never ever do anything like that again to anyone.” Those were the first words to meet your ears. You didn’t say anything, all you did was sob in the seat next to him as he drove off and away from the scene. You didn’t ask anything. You didn’t want to. All that mattered was getting the fuck away from this and home and into a clean bed.

You could care about this later.

“I would’ve killed them if it wasn’t for this contract.” Your heart jumped out of your chest as the monster’s voice resounded in the backseat. “Sorry you don’t get the pleasure of knowing they’re dead.”

[nowimjustastranger]

Hello.

I am the one who asked about doing a crossover between stcmo and "You Look Like Yourself ...".

I've written a fanfiction inspired by your AUs, it's called "A chance in a billion" if you'd like to read it.

Here's the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62071840

Still love your writing.

To avoid any confusion, this work is an AU of two of my AU's mashed together and is therefore not canon to StCMO or TASB lore!

Starting off by confirming that, considering Ford 419"3 gets to other dimensions via wormholes (which travel through both space and time), it is entirely plausible that Ford 419"3 could stumble across his significantly younger twin brother in the multiverse.

The very first paragraph just really sucker punches you, especially when it's obvious that Stan is coping with humor. It sets the tone perfectly and establishes Stan's character all within a few lines of inner dialogue. The next few paragraphs give a great look into how Stan wound up in the multiverse as well as Stan and Ford's dynamic, which is clearly strained.

The fact that Stan had a gut feeling about Ford 419"3 is a nice nod to the bond between Stans and Fords, who are bound together by the universe itself to maintain balance. And Stan just straight up ditching his current Ford to go investigate Ford 419"3 is hilarious because yeah, he absolutely would.

Ugh, how soft Ford 419"3 is with Stan is everything to me, indulging him in a scan just because Stan asked him to. Ford 419"3 is a paper man for Stans, no backbone to be seen lol. And the reveal! The way Ford 419"3 just fucking freezes, which of course Stan takes as a negative reaction. The poor bby. I love how Ford 419"3 is so effortlessly gentle even when he's having and internal crisis, catching Stan's wrist in an easily breakable hold- I gdhofxzdhzzhhdgcj I'm totally normal about it, clearly.

Not possessive Ford interrupting their heartfelt reunion, lmao. Love that shit. The immediate switch from sweet and soft to deadly and homicidal is near-instant for Ford 419"3. He's extremely proficient at both close and long range combat, having trained and altered his body to better accomplish his mission. I'd even argue that, between 419"3 Ford's combat experience, body enhancements, and his ability to see into the future, he's one of the most dangerous Fords in the multiverse.

Lee to the rescue! Lee is basically the human embodiment of a chill pill. Dude has calming Ford 419"3 down to an art form, lol. I love seeing their closeness from an outsider's perspective, especially in situations where you get to see that closeness. It doesn't get much better than Ford 419"3 abruptly shifting gears and scrambling to get Lee out of the danger zone when he fearlessly puts himself between two pissed off Fords.

I'm weirdly saddened by the fact that Stan has to announce himself to the Ford he's traveling with when he touches him (and is clearly worried about being hit), but that's probably because I'm so used to Lee and Ford 419"3, who would recognize each other's touch even half dead. I'm cackling about Stan being unceremoniously hauled away though, that's top tier comedy right there.

Lee taking the lead because the Fords are currently useless in their posturing is my Roman empire. Lee is smart and resourceful, able to navigate almost any situation you throw him in.

I theorize that the Ford's aren't speaking English because they're saying some vile shit to each other and don't want Stan and Lee to overhear, lmao.

The way Lee claps back to "Scarry" with "Kiddo" made me laugh, that's so him.

Pissy Ford is being pissy, surprise surprise. Way to stalk off without even using your own scanner to confirm that you are, in fact, leaving Stan with his twin and not just some random Ford. A+ big brothering right there. Smartest dumbass alive lol.

Best believe Ford 419"3 knows that Lee's gonna be insecure about his place in Ford's life now that he found his original brother. Lee is likely to distance himself with the intention of letting the two reconnect, trying to brace himself for (in his eyes) the inevitable separation between him and Ford 419"3. There's no reason to keep Lee around anymore after all, right? Wrong bro. So wrong. Ford's got two younger brothers now as far as he's concerned.

Everything about their interaction in the nest makes me so warm and fuzzy, Stan's finally getting the contact and care that he craves. I am a puddle, your honor. I eagerly look forward to more! I'll be re-reading this often, I can already tell. Thank you for writing this!!!

[inkspiredwriting]

Chapter 5: A Complete Circle

Five Hargreeves x reader

A/N: That's it, the end of my little story. Let me know what you thought of it.

Warnings: none

The flight to Cape Town was tense. Max stared out the plane window, his mind racing with thoughts of Allison. Of all his siblings, she was the one he was most nervous about finding. Her memories, if they had returned, would be heavy—weighted with regret and betrayal.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Y/n asked softly, her hand brushing against his.

Max turned to her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Just... worried about Allison. If she remembers everything, it might be harder for her than it was for the others.”

Klaus leaned over from the next seat. “Oh, she’ll remember. And when she does, expect tears. Lots of tears. I might cry too, for solidarity.”

Luther, sitting across the aisle, rolled his eyes. “Klaus, not everything is a joke.”

Klaus feigned offense. “I’ll have you know that my humor is what holds this family together. Besides, Allison’s stronger than you think. She always has been.”

Max glanced at Viktor, who had been unusually quiet since joining them. “You’ve been awfully quiet. What do you think?”

Viktor shrugged, his voice soft. “I think... we need to be patient with her. She carried a lot of guilt back then. She might not want to face us.”

Y/n squeezed Max’s hand. “If she’s anything like the rest of you, she’ll come around. You just have to give her time.”

Finding Allison wasn’t as simple as walking into a bar or an orphanage. She worked with a nonprofit, and their first attempts to contact her were met with resistance. Eventually, they tracked her down at a shelter for women and children.

When they entered, they found her sitting on the floor, surrounded by children. She was reading a story, her voice soft and soothing.

Max’s chest tightened. For a moment, he hesitated, unsure how to approach her.

“Allison,” he said finally, his voice breaking the quiet.

She froze, the book slipping from her hands. Slowly, she turned to look at him. Her eyes widened, and her hand flew to her mouth.

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, this isn’t real. You’re not real.”

“Allison, it’s me,” Max said, stepping closer. “It’s Five. And they’re real too.”

Klaus stepped forward, his usual theatrics replaced by genuine warmth. “Hey, sis. Long time no see.”

Luther and Viktor stood silently, their eyes filled with hope and concern.

Tears streamed down Allison’s face as she stood, backing away slightly. “I... I can’t do this. I remember. I remember everything.”

Luther moved toward her, his voice gentle. “Allison, it’s okay. You don’t have to face this alone. We’re here for you.”

She shook her head, her voice trembling. “I hurt you. All of you. I used my power... I betrayed you. How can you forgive me for that?”

Max stepped forward, his tone firm but kind. “Because we’ve all made mistakes, Allison. We’ve all done things we regret. But this—us, here and now—is a second chance. Don’t throw it away because of the past.”

Klaus chimed in, his voice unusually sincere. “If we can forgive Five for being a little homicidal gremlin back in the day, we can forgive you too.”

Allison let out a shaky laugh, wiping her tears. “I don’t know if I deserve this.”

“You do,” Viktor said quietly. “We all do.”

She looked at each of them, her gaze lingering on Max. “You really believe that?”

Max nodded. “I do.”

Finally, Allison took a deep breath and stepped forward, pulling them all into a hug. “Okay,” she said softly. “Okay.”

Their next stop was Seoul. By now, the group felt like a team again, their banter and camaraderie slowly returning. Klaus joked about teaching the others yoga, while Luther insisted they try his meatball recipe.

When they arrived at Sea World, it felt almost surreal. Ben was there, feeding Octopuses in a tank, his movements precise and focused.

“Is that... our Ben?” Allison asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

“Yeah,” Max said. “That’s him.”

Klaus didn’t wait for introductions. He ran toward Ben, shouting, “BENNY BOY!”

Ben looked up, startled, and nearly dropped the bucket of Sea snails and shrimps. When he saw Klaus, his eyes widened, and he stumbled back.

“Klaus? Is this... real?”

“It’s real!” Klaus said, pulling him into a tight hug. “And look, we brought the whole gang!”

Ben’s eyes scanned the group, his face a mix of shock and joy. “I thought... I thought I was going crazy. I kept seeing things, remembering things.”

“We all did,” Max said, stepping forward. “You’re not alone.”

Ben hesitated, then smiled. “You have no idea how good it is to see you all.”

Their final stop was Mexico. Tracking Diego was relatively simple, thanks to Max’s contacts in his special unit. When they found him, he was in the middle of an undercover operation.

Diego turned sharply when the door to the apartment opened, his knife already in hand. When his eyes landed on Max, his expression darkened.

“You, I was hoping you were just a figment of my imagination, but you’re real.” he spat, crossing the room in quick strides. Before Max could react, Diego punched him square in the face.

Y/n gasped, rushing forward. “What the hell? Why did you just hit him?”

Max stumbled back, rubbing his jaw. “Nice to see you too, Diego.”

Diego glared at him, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Didn’t your boyfriend tell you, lady? He had an affair with my wife. Or then-wife. Whatever.”

Y/n froze, her eyes wide as she turned to Max. “What is he talking about?”

Max sighed, his shoulders slumping. “It’s complicated.” He looked at Diego. “I’m sorry, okay? I thought I’d explained everything back then, but clearly not enough.”

Diego’s voice was sharp. “Oh, you explained plenty. But being stuck in a timeline doesn’t excuse what you did.”

Y/n’s voice was cold. “You were stuck in a timeline? With his wife?”

Max nodded, his tone careful. “Seven years. We thought we’d never make it back. I… I made a mistake, Y/n. I thought I loved her, but it wasn’t real.”

Diego snorted. “Real or not, you don’t betray your family.”

The room fell silent. The tension was thick until Max finally spoke, his voice firm. “I know. And I’m sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me, Diego. I just… I just want us to be a family again.”

Diego folded his arms. “You think we can just pick up where we left off? We weren’t even a real family to begin with.”

“Family isn’t about blood,” Luther interjected. “It’s about being there for each other. And no matter what happened before, we’re here now.”

Diego’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue.

Y/n stepped closer to Max, her expression softening. “You’ve changed, haven’t you?”

Max nodded. “I have. And I don’t want to lose the people who matter most to me again.”

That night, in their hotel room, Y/n was unusually quiet. Max sat beside her on the bed, taking her hand.

“Talk to me,” he said softly.

She looked at him, her eyes searching his. “I just… I didn’t know this part of you. I thought I knew everything.”

Max sighed. “There’s a lot I don’t remember clearly, but I know I was lonely. I gave up hope, Y/n. I didn’t want to be alone anymore, so I made choices I’m not proud of. But what I had with Lila... it wasn’t love. Not like this. Not like us.”

Y/n studied him for a long moment before leaning into him. “Okay,” she said quietly. “I believe you.”

The next day, the siblings and Y/n spent the day together, sharing memories and laughter. For the first time, the weight of their pasts seemed lighter.

And as the sun set over Mexico City, the siblings sat together on a rooftop terrace, laughter and warmth filling the air. Y/n sat close to Max, her hand on his arm, while Klaus stretched lazily in his chair, sunglasses still perched on his nose.

“This is new,” Klaus said with a grin. “A family reunion without anyone throwing a chair. Progress.”

Luther chuckled. “It feels different this time.”

Max nodded. “Because it is. we’re not those same people anymore. We’ve all been given a fresh start, and we’ve all found our own paths, but finding each other again? That’s something worth holding onto.”

Diego leaned forward. “So, what? Weekly Zoom calls?”

Allison smiled. “Why not? We can make the effort.”

“I’m in,” Viktor added. “We don’t have to give up our lives for this. We can have both.”

Raising his glass, Max smiled. “To us. To second chances. And doing it right this time.”

The others followed suit, clinking their glasses together. For the first time in years—or maybe lifetimes—they felt like a family again. They promised to stay in touch, to keep this bond alive.

And this time, they knew it would be different.

As he and Y/n sat back on the plane to Dublin, she turned to him with a small smile. “Do you feel complete now?”

He nodded, his hand clasping hers. “For the first time in a long time, I do.”

The End.

[jujutsutrash]

Once again nvm me I'm just throwing some self indulgent thoughts out there for things I might never write. also this was supposed to be like, reals short. well, fuck me I guess, it's 1.9 k

Thinking of Geto x reader where things still went bad, he still went homicidal, and you followed him. you were his girlfriend, of course you followed him. more out of worry about him than anything else, but you blew your life in jujutsu society away and went with him.

But you weren't there when Suguru attacked and went after Yuta. you didn't die with him. and after surviving everything, years later Satoru finds you. it's a twist of fate he could never see coming, and one that shakes him to his bones.

You had stayed with Suguru for a few years, helped him along, tried to make sure he wouldn't kill himself in the middle of his pursuit. you didn't hate non-sorcerers quite so much as you hated what had been done of your lives, what had been done of Suguru's mind. you saw it clearly when he had reached the edge, but there was nobody strong enough to pull him from there, so you followed.

But then one day you went missing. missing from Suguru's radar and from the jujutsu school. the minute you left with him you had been labeled a criminal too, so it made sense for you to not want them on your tracks anyways. but running even from Suguru, that was the weird part.

It was one of the things Satoru noticed the day Suguru declared his soon to come attack on the non-sorcers. you were missing. it made no sense, but he also had no way of really asking. for a short while after you two left Satoru had held out hope you'd find a way to bring Suguru back. but that hope also died. and now you weren't even here. he didn't want to imagine if you were dead.

But the years pass, and Satoru learns to keep on going. he has seen more horror and live more tragedies than any man should, but he learns to keep on going. and then one day, after an usual mission to kill an average curse, he sees your face in the crowd. it has been 15 years since you had both left by that point.

It's like seeing a ghost. a mirage in the summer heat. he'd have ignored it, thought he was mistaken, if not for the gleam in your eye as he caught it for a second. recognition. and just like that Satoru is chasing the remnants of his past again. six eyes hunting you through the streets as you try to avoid him.

Satoru had taken you for dead, with the way Suguru refused to even acknowledge your absence. but now he was chasing you through the streets, amongst the crowd, trying to keep a distance until he found it safe to speak. until there weren't so many people around to bear witness to just how destroyed the sight of you made him. he knows you are aware of him too, trying to shake him off of your trail - but the six eyes see all, and he knows you know that too.

He follows you down a long set of wide concrete stairs until you are both close to the bottom. it's in that precious moment that almost all people vanish, the sound of the crowd like a distant background noise. Satoru was to seize the moment before you run away for good. after all the people he lost and all the questions unanswered, he wouldn't let this chance slip.

so he calls your name, and you hesitate for a moment. when you turn around, cold, tired eyes look back at him. Satoru suddenly remembers how Nanami had confessed he saw you not even a year after you left, all that you had told the man was that someone needed to be with Suguru. and here you were now, alone. it's like a fever dream, and Satoru can't even think of what to say.

"I thought you were dead"

it falls from his lips before he can even register, trembling eyes looking over you as his words ring loud over the background noises around. you'd aged, changed. it has been over fifteen years, Satoru tells himself. over fifteen years and a world of pain. nobody stays the same.

"but I'm not," you respond in a dry, tense tone, gaze filled with suspicion. "if all you wanted was to check, then you've done it. but if you still have a duty to finish, I know I stand no chance, but I'm not going down easy."

Satoru notices your tense, shaking fist holding plastic grocery bags. the partially tucked shirt with a faded stain on one of the edges. the chipped nailpolish on your fingers. it's saturday morning, and you almost seem like someone who always lived a normal life. a part of him feels bad for breaking that spell.

"I wouldn't —" he stutters, "do you really think I would kill you?"

"you wouldn't, but it's what you should do," you sigh and groan, looking up at him from your place near the bottom of the stairs. "listen, Satoru, just forget you saw me here, ok. just leave. this isn't good for either of us."

he calls your name again and he can see you shake. your eyes still look beautiful, almost like all those years ago, but now they look stern and worried. glancing to your sides like an skittish animal. like a mouse cornered and forced into agression by a lack of choice.

"listen, I just want to talk. I have so many questions. why did you leave? wh—"

"the answers won't change anything," you cut him off, raising your voice slightly over the noises of steps on concrete, birds chriping and evrything else around. "you are just gonna relieve the pain again"

"I worried about you, just hear me o—"

"mom?"

the voice comes from behind Satoru, and he watches as yor eyes widen for a momen before you smile sweetly — an expression he hasn't seen in years. he turns around and sees a boy somewhere between ten and twelve looking at him from a few steps above.

the boy gazes at Satoru with suspicion, dark fox like eyes feeling like an echo of something he once knew. it's like a gut punch, and he feels the air leave his lungs as he stares down at a kid with eyes he knew so well. the boy breaks the heavy silence, kicking up the skateboard at his feet before grabbing it with one hand.

"how many times have I told you not to go down the stairs on that thing?"

"eh, sorry mom"

the boy laughs softly, climbing down the steps two at a time until he reaches you. he passes by Satoru and the man can't help but notice how tall that kid was. how his deep black hair was held up in a pony tail. how his smile felt like that of a ghost. but he wasn't, Satoru repeated to himself, he wasn't.

"you are gonna give me a heart attack," you say, caressing the boy's face as he gives you a hug.

"come on, mom. anyway, who is that?" he asks, turning back to you and pointing at Satoru with his thumb before turning back.

"show some more respect will you?" you shoot back with an exhasperated sigh. "that's Gojo, an old friend of mine," you turn your eyes back to Satoru, gaze tense as you speak again. "this is my son, Kazuo."

Kazuo nods and then bows a little when you leer at him. Satoru is fighting hard to keep his expression neutral. there is a moment where his mind just goes blank, looking at the two of you, noticing the similarities and differences. when he snaps back he slimes wide, going down a couple steps as he waves and nods to the boy.

"hey, kid. it's ok, don't worry about formalities, you can call me Satoru, nice to meet ya, Kazuo."

"huh? 'kay, then. nice to meet ya, Satoru."

the boy smile and waves and Satoru feels a sting deep in his chest. it's possibly the most bittersweet feeling he has ever experience in his life. you sight loudly and he laughs — there is still pain in his heart, but there is alos a weirdly nostalgic sensation bubbling within, he can't quite place it, but it warms him all the same.

"shouldn't you be going to soccer practice?" you ask, looking back down at the boy who is now peeking into your plastic bags.

"that's what I was doing," he answers, tugging at one of the bags. "oh, is that mochi?"

Satoru watches in silence, a smile on his face as the scene unfolds. you grunt and hold the boy's wrist as he tries to sneak one hand into the bag. when he is caught, he clearly opts for begging, looking at you with wide puppy eyes.

"if you eat them all there will be none left for after lunch."

"just one mom, please. then I'll go," Kazuo pouts as you stare down at him, and Satoru has to hold back a giggle.

"ah, alright, just one," you give in, shoulders slumping as you kiss the boy's forehead while he sticks his hand in the bag and grabs one of the sweets. "now get going before you run late."

"aye, aye, love you, mom," Kazuo laughs, climbing a few steps down before turning back and waving. "see ya."

Satoru stays quiet, eyes following you as you watch the boy walk down the nearly empty street before making a turn. just as he is nearly out of sight you hear the loud clanking of the skateboard wheels hitting the concrete below. you shake your shoulders with a tired laugh and Satoru smiles softly at the sight.

then you turn around, and your eyes don't look so cold, but they look just as tired, and even more worried.

"how old is he?"

"just about to turn eleven."

"I didn't," Satoru struggles, choking on his words once more. "I had no idea."

"Nobody did, that's by choice. you can see why I went missing now, right? I could deal with the blood in my hands and the guilt in my heart. but I couldn't let a kid grow up like that, surrounded by curses, and violence and all the shit that comes with the world of jujutsu."

"I can see it now," Satoru responds quietly, descing a few steps until he is standing close to you, one hand reaching for your shoulder, relief flooding his body when you don't step back. "he looks like a great kid, you are doing good as his mother."

"thanks, he is a little trouble maker, but yeah, he is a good kid," you give him a quiet chuckle, eyes glancing at the ground before looking back up at him. "and he deserves to have his youth as carefree and unbothered as it can be. and I intent to keep it like that, even if I have to fight every sorcerer in the world for that."

you look at him with fire in your eyes, and Satoru can't blame you. he can't blame you for doing something his family would never have done for him. something he wishes Suguru's family would have done for him all these years ago. the past can't be changed, but the future could still be protected.

[ghostlynachopanda]

For you

a/n: my friend said I'm starting to gain obvious muscle so like big happy :)) there's no hope for my sleep schedule, I wrote this one at 4am lol. it's short but enjoy this one pals

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

words: 1.1 k

~~~

Wednesday was annoyed. She has watched Xavier follow you around like a lost puppy all day. The urge to dismember him grew every time he leaned close to you in class. The desire to cut off his tongue grew when he said something that made you laugh. An urge to kill him came to a head when she saw him smirk at her when your full attention was on him. Wednesday didn't see a problem if he were to disappear or simply die.

You normally enjoyed your free period. It was time you got to spend alone with Wednesday throughout the day. You two could just sit in the library and read a book or sit in the quad and softly talk about whatever came to mind. But you couldn’t, Xavier was there this time.

For some unknown reason, he has been around you all day. Sure, he's nice company but only to an extent. You could only handle so much of him before getting tired, and you reached that point a long time ago. You were just being nice at this point, not wanting to hurt his feelings. So when you saw Wednesday sitting for you at your usual table in the quad you couldn't help the relieved smile that made its way onto your face.

You walked over to her and took your normal spot across from her. You're putting your bag down and start, "You wouldn't believe-"

You're cut off by someone suddenly claiming the seat next to you. You didn’t need to look to know who it was. The irritated look Wednesday wore was enough to know it was Xavier. A voice that grew annoying hours earlier spoke, "Hey guys, what’s up?"

"What are you doing?" Wednesday asked, anger laced in her words.

"What's it look like?" he responded throwing an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into the side of his body, "I'm hanging out with a couple of friends,"

Wednesday's eyes looked positively murderous. Her fingers twitched to dislocate his shoulder, push his arm off you, to pull you to the open seat next to her. She watched you closely. You were tense, obviously uncomfortable, but you weren't doing anything about it.

"Move your arm," Wednesday said threateningly.

"What?" Xavier asked, confused.

"Move your arm if you want to keep it," Wednesday replied, fury easily read in her tone.

She watched as he chuckled awkwardly before slowly returning his arm to his side. She watched you ever so gently sigh and sag your shoulders. An unpleasant silence surrounded the three of you, no one willing to break it. You looked up to meet Wednesday's gaze and saw her signal to the seat next to her.

You perked up a bit at the implication, quickly standing up to move to the other side of the table. As you reach for your bag a hand reaches to grab yours, stopping you in your tracks. You hardly have time to register the hand on your arm before it's gone. Looking up to find Wednesday bending Xavier's wrist at an odd angle, no doubt hurting him.

"You must not value your hand," she said lowly, eyes wide with homicidal intent. All he can manage is a small yelp before she's putting more pressure on it.

"Dude, let go." Xavier says, going ignored by the two of you.

She looks to you next and says, "I'll kill him for you,"

Xavier's hand starts to wiggle, trying to lessen Wednesday's grip. All it does is cause her to tighten her grip, "Let me kill him for you,"

"Let go of me," Xavier said weakly, his voice tight with pain. Now fully pulling his wrist to get away from her, she doesn't budge. Wednesday never once took her eyes off you, waiting for your answer.

"Wednesday-" you start but are cut off.

"He touched you, made you uncomfortable. Let me kill him," she said browbeating.

You see Xavier looking at you with helpless eyes, looking for you to do something. The look causes you to shake your head, not wanting to get in the middle of this. Either answer will anger the opposite person, but having Wednesday be arrested for murder is far worse than an annoying Xavier.

"Let him go Wednesday," you said softly, seeing her eyes widen with something akin to betrayal. She scowls before turning to him and saying, "Touch her again and she won't be able to save you."

You see relief cross his face before pain quickly overtakes it and the quiet air is disturbed by a peculiar pop. She releases his wrist then, watching in satisfaction as it reddens and starts to swell. Xavier stands and cradles his wrist before looking at Wednesday, "You're fucking crazy" he mutters while angrily brushing past her.

You both watch him leave, making sure he wouldn't come back. When he is no longer visible she turns to you, "Why didn't you let me kill him?"

"Murder charges aren't going to look good on your record," you replied.

"I already have attempted murder on there," she mutters under her breath.

"I could easily get away with murdering him. No one would even notice his absence" her answer makes you shake your head.

"Still, murdering someone seems excessive"

"Not when that person obviously made you uncomfortable," she said as if it was common sense.

"Wednesday.." you rebutted, reprimanding in your tone.

She looks at you for a moment, seeing the resolve in your eyes. It appears you wouldn't let her kill anyone for your sake. How unfortunate. Wednesday looks down at the grass before asking, "Are you alright?"

The question makes you want to chuckle, she just seemingly broke his wrist just because he made you uncomfortable. You ask, "Why did you do that?"

"I simply left him with a parting gift. He'll remember to keep his hands to himself next time," she says evenly, eyeing you to make sure you weren't uncomfortable or uneasy.

You look down at the grass, shyly smiling while shaking your head, "Let's not jump the gun next time, okay?"

"I didn't 'jump the gun', I acted accordingly. No one should be allowed to make you uncomfortable or touch you so casually." she said factually.

"That is still not a reason to harm a classmate," you refuted.

Wednesday clenched her jaw and drew in a breath. She would kill for you, even if you told her not to. It just wouldn't be in front of you. She looked at you, eyes narrowing slightly, "He would've done it again if I didn't do anything."

"I know that, but there are other ways to handle a situation like that."

"Of course, murder."

"Wednesday, no"

tags: @alexkolax @rainbow-love4ever @o638 @tundra1029

[rebelliousstories]

Ruined Friendship

Relationship: Nick Burkhardt x Reader

Fandom: Grimm

Request: No

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending

Word Count: 2,367

Main Masterlist: Here

Grimm Masterlist: Here

Summary: The past few days has put a strain on a very special friendship for a certain detective.

My love for her is so great, that if all the leaves on all the trees were tongues, they could not declare it.

Getting the call to come in for a case was not how Nick imagined his night going. He was looking forward to hanging out with his best female friend, gorging himself on carbs, and settling in for a movie with a beer to end the night. But instead he was here. On the side of the road, looking at a homicide scene. Meeting Hank on the sidewalk, the man chuckled at the irritated look on Nick’s face.

“Someone isn’t happy. I sure hope your Friday night plans weren’t ruined.” Griffin teased, looking over the scene.

“We had just finished dinner. Gonna finish the current season of our show, and then, I get the call.” He groaned, checking over the scene with his partner.

“Ooo, my man. Getting some action finally!” Hank cheered, but Nick shot him down.

“Not that kind of night. I was with my friend.” He tried to distract from the current conversation but it was not working. Griffin slapped his partner on the shoulder and Burkhardt turned to face him.

“The cutie that you’ve know since school?” He inquired,a puzzled look on his face. Nick floundered for a few moments, before he shut his mouth with a tight lipped smile.

“Yeah. Her.” Thankfully he was saved by sergeant Wu walking up to the duo.

“We’ve got a normal and easy one.” The two detectives breathed a sigh of relief.

“Really?” Nick asked, face full of hope for once.

“No,” they deflated, “but, hopefully this will be resolved soon. Two perps, William Deveraux and Taisie Reynolds. It appears they shot and killed each other right here.” Both detectives were confused.

“So why are we being called in?” Hank inquired, raising one eyebrow in a quirk.

“We think there was a third person here. It looks like they shot each other, but no gun has been found. Guns don’t just get up and walk away on their own two legs.” Wu explained, before being called away by one of his officers on the scene.

“Well, lets try and find out who associated with our vics. I think that’s the only shot we got here.” Nick went back to his car, and sighed deeply behind the driver’s seat. Pulling out his phone, he dialed a number, pressed it to his ear and waited.

“Hello?” A melodic voice answered.

“Hey, it’s me.” Nick did not know how to start this phone call.

“Hey! Are you okay? You left in kind of a hurry?” Her questions made Nick smile as he relaxed ever so slightly in his seat.

“Yeah. I’m fine. We just got a case and I don’t know when we’re going to be able to continue movie night.” He was starting to hate how demanding his job was.

“Nick, don’t apologize for something you can’t control. It’s fine. Your job is important. Listen, once you solve the case, which you always do, let me know. We’ll have a celebratory movie night. Okay?” She offered the detective.

“I’d appreciate that. I’m just glad you’re not mad at me for running out like that.” Burkhardt breathed a sigh of relief, and scrubbed his free hand over his face.

“Of course. Now, go be a superhero and save the day.” They said they’re goodbyes, but the man did not pull away from the scene just yet. He sat there and let his feelings wash over him in an attempt to understand them. Something tugged at his heart when he had been unable to finish their night together. Whatever it was, it scared Nick a little bit.

The drive to the precinct was full of thoughts that ran too fast for him to catch. Having been out of the dating game for a while now, it concerned him to even be having thoughts of that. After Juliette, Nick vowed to throw himself into his work, and to stay away from romantic entanglements till further notice. Stopping the car in a spot, he made his way to his desk and did just that. Hoping that he could drown out al thoughts and feelings not related to work for at least a little bit.

It took five days to wrap up the case. However, for Nick, it may as well have been five weeks. In that time frame, he had gotten less than five hours of sleep per night and had barely spoken to his friend, let alone seen her. Being able to slap the cuffs on the third man in connection to the double homicide felt amazing. Finally, he was able to go home and get some rest, but there was one more thing that he needed to do first.

Answering the call with her name, Nick let a grin stretch across his face. Grabbing his jacket as he left his desk behind, he did not even care if Hank was teasing him behind his back.

“Hey. Is that celebratory movie night offer still standing?” The door to his truck was opened, but the engine was left alone for now.

“Of course it is! You solved the case already?” There was something moving around on her end as she was speaking.

“Yeah. We did. What are you doing over there?” He questioned.

“Oh I was just starting dinner prep. Gotta let stuff soak, and cook, and whatnot. Well, you let me know when you want to do movie night and we’ll plan around it.” There was more noise on her end as she, presumably, fixed herself a plate of food.

“Can we do tonight? I’ll pick up some takeout on the way home. I just-” Nick sighed again and breathed deeply.

“You just what, Nick?” Her voice washed over him once more.

“I just really want to get away from the world for a while.” He admitted, and allowed his head to drop forwards.

“Listen, why don’t you pick up some dessert and I’ll make you a home cooked meal. Maybe those enchiladas you like so much?” She teased, as the detective chuckled a bit.

“Yeah,” his head picked up, “that sounds wonderful. See you at seven?” With her conformation, they said their goodbyes, and Nick still sat there. He wondered how he got into this position. How was he this excited about seeing a girl? He had not been like this since Juliette, and refused to be this way after her. Yet, here he was.

The drive home never felt so long. Nick stopped by a twenty-four hour diner that they occasionally went to and got their favorite cake slices. The older woman behind the counter sent him an impish wink that the detective laughed off, and made a speedy escape. He had a little over an hour now until he needed to leave his house and make his way to her home.

Over the past few months, that has been the distinction that he has made between their living spaces. His apartment felt cold and distant most days. There was nothing wrong per se, but it lacked something. He had knickknacks and photos strewn about, but he would much rather spend his time with her at her place. She was warm, and glowing like the sun, with a smile that could brighten up the- what was happening to him?

The shower was a welcome distraction. For a moment. But once he stepped under the running stream, they returned with a vengeance. Nick was bombarded with thoughts of his friend who just so happened to be a girl. He was fine. There was nothing weird about their friendship not matter what Hank says.

His shower was extra long, but eventually he had to step out so that he could still arrive on time. Before he could catch himself, he was fussing over which shirt he should wear, and threw down both shirts in his bed with a sigh. It was just movie night with a friend. Trying not to think too hard about it, Nick grabbed a shirt and a set of jeans, and changed before he dried his hair. Would it be too much to put some product in? She had seen him without it, but it made his hair fall nicely. This was starting to annoy the Grimm.

His watch informed him that it was time to leave, and he grabbed the cake slices with a sigh. Making sure they were secure in the passenger seat, Nick scrubbed his face for what seemed the thousandth time that day. The closer he got to the home of his friend, the faster his heart raced. His palms sweated against the steering wheel.

The home in question pulled in his view soon enough, and he hastily made his way into the driveway. Getting out with two piece of cake in his hand, he knocked on the heavy wooden door before him. What greeted him when the door was pushed aside was worth the wait. Her hair was messily tied back and her face held a barely noticeable amount of makeup. Her smile grew when she saw the man in front of her, and he barely managed to pull the cakes out of the line of fire before she launched herself at him.

“Nick, it’s so good to see you again!” Came her muffled shout in his chest. Said man chuckled and wrapped his arms around her while letting her name roll over his tongue in a familiar pattern.

“Good to be here.” They pulled apart and hung there for a moment. Neither one could explain why they stayed, but neither wanted to move just yet. However, a timer dinged and she pulled herself out of the embrace of the man before her with a blush and shy smile.

“Set the desert on the counter. Enchiladas are done.” Nick did as she asked and helped her set out the stuff for dinner. They made light small talk as they ate, and even though he hung on every word that she said without complaint, too soon had he found them sitting next to each other on the couch. He flung his arm across the back of the couch, and stiffened up as she settle into the vacant spot that was now there. They sat there in that position for a while, and while she had relaxed a little bit, Nick had not. It was fine, but she could not help feeling like there was something going on with her best friend.

“Is there something wrong, Nick?” She asked, sitting up and staring at the man next to her.

“No. I’m fine. Why do you ask?” He tried to play it off, but even he did not believe his own words. Grabbing the remote, she paused the movie so they were not going to be interrupted.

“Come on, Nick I’ve known you for years. You may be able to lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me.” She had him there; she was one of the few people he would never be able to lie to. “So out with it. What’s going on with you?”

Nick sighed deeply, and once more, scrubbed his hands over his face. He tried to find the right words to say, but nothing would come out. Nothing sounded quite like what he wished to say, and what he actually said was not better.

“I don’t wanna be friends anymore.” He blurted out. A shocked gasp was released from her lungs, and she jumped away from the couch as if burned. Realizing what he just said, he tried to call her name as he reached for her but she was faster.

“So what is this then? Do you have fun playing with my feelings like this?” Her voice broke as tears welled up in her eyes and her throat knotted.

“No! No, I- that didn’t come out how I wanted it to. Please, listen to me.” Burkhardt tried once more to grab her hands as he stood, but she just kept backing up to get away.

“Listen, I get it if you don’t like me like I like you, but I don’t think it’s bad enough to stop being friends with me over.” She cried, and it broke his heart. To know that he put those tears in her eyes was almost too much for him.

“No, please listen.” Her back thudded against the wall, and he finally grabbed her hands in his as he closed in on her.

“I don’t want to be just friends anymore.” He whispered, getting closer and closer to her.

“What are you saying?” Her tone was confused, and it matched the adorable furrow in her brows.

“I’m trying to ask you out on a date, and doing a horrible job.” Nick laughed a little bit, and tried to diffuse the situation.

“But you said-” he cut her off, “I don’t want to be just your friend anymore. I want to try and be your boyfriend. If you’ll let me.” Burkhardt watched the tears slow, until they disappeared completely from her eyes. Once she was no longer crying, she began laughing; quietly at first, but it soon grew louder as Nick joined in.

He slipped his arms around her waist and drew her into his chest, while her hands trailed up his arms to wrap around his neck. They stayed there for a while, just breathing and being in that moment together. She started laughing again, which prompted Nick to laugh with her.

“What?” He asked, pulling back, just enough to see her face.

“I just find it funny that you were trying to ask me out on a date and I thought you were legitimately done with me.” She replied, burrowing her face back into his chest.

“I guess I need better communication skills, huh?” Nick pressed a kiss to her head,and pulled further away this time.

“Can we finish the movie now? Before we plan a date after this?” Chuckling, the couple made their way back to the couch, and snuggled up closer to each other. She rested comfortably on his chest, while his arms kept her close.

[bellobambino]

Teeth

part of the Fugitive!Luigi series

summary: luigi, having just quit his job in hawaii, arrives in baltimore. His mother tells him he’s a failure and he can’t come home. He’s got nothing left for him, and he’s at rock bottom. He calls his cousin mateo, asking for a place to crash. Instead, he finds a whole new purpose.

Mateo is a sociopath anarchist. and no taller than 5’8 in shoes.

1682w

Warnings: yeah so suicidal ideation and the suicide to homicide pipeline. emotional manipulation and i guess short guy syndrome, mateo doomsday device as an individual.

Notes: mateo freaks me out. but he’s so funny. after this fic you need to read Dead Man Walking which is released in a few hours. stay tuned

————-/—

January 10, 2024

Baltimore Air Port

My cousin Mateo answers on the third ring, and I hear a lighter flick before he even says anything. Then:

"Luigi! Cugino, long time no talk."

"Hey," I said. "I’m in Baltimore. I can’t go home."

A beat.

"No shit," he said. And then, "I got a couch you can crash on if you bring some booze."

Not a bad deal.

I grab a bottle of crown royal from the duty-free liquor store in the airport before getting an uber to mateo’s place.

He lives on the third floor of an apartment building that looks like it gets away with a lot of code violations for being old. The door looks like someone took a hammer to the lock.

I knock and shove my hands in my pockets, and exhale. I have to mentally prepare myself to behold the experience that is Mateo Mangione.

Cugino Mateo has always been a problem. Not just for my family, not just for the law, but in an existential way that people like him are problems. The way a forest fire is a problem, or a collapsing bridge. The world is structured in a way that can’t contain people like him, and so they just crash through it, burning, breaking, refusing to be anything other than what they are.

I remember him as a kid, showing up to family functions late, wearing some ridiculous leather jacket that made my mother physically ill. His father used to grab him by the back of the neck in that way Italian dads do, shake him, tell him how he was disrespectful, reckless, a stronzo, un figlio di puttana. All while Mateo smiled that too-wide smile, like everything that happened to him was a joke.

There’s some shuffling inside the apartment, then the door swings open. Mateo fills the space. He makes 5’7 feel like 6’8. It’s weird how much we have in common. The same Mangione thousand watt smile, except his is cranked up to a million, all sharp teeth and wide-eyed mania. He’s all angles, sharpness, sudden movements, and unfiltered thoughts.

“Luigi,” he grins, voice dripping with amusement, like this is already fun for him. “The prodigal son.”

He steps back, and I follow him in.

Inside, Mateo's apartment is exactly what I expected and somehow worse. The lighting is horrible. Just a couple of mismatched lamps with red-tinted bulbs that make the whole place feel like a crime scene in a David Lynch movie. The ceiling light is just… wires. Completely missing a fixture. A Glock sits on the coffee table next to a massive bong, a box of Family Size Honey Nut Cheerios, and what I think might be a slice of American cheese still in the wrapper. The TV leans against the wall on the floor instead of being mounted, frozen on a PS5 home screen. A laundry basket full of clothes is dumped across a futon that looks like it’s been slept on.

And it smells like something is in the oven, “are you baking something?”

he flops down on the couch, “cinnamon roll candle. the ladies love it.”

there are no ladies here. “what ladies?”

“you never know”

I sigh, sink down into what I think is a chair.

"Quit my job."

Mateo whistles low, shaking his head, "Finally."

“mom told me i’m throwing my life away.”

“of course she did. she only cares about you doing shit that makes her look good.”

He jolts up, reaches for his bong and loads a bowl.

i’ve known him my whole life, so i don’t flinch when he moves, but i can totally see how other people would. He’s so unpredictable, it’s stressful. For everyone but him. You need to be prepared for literally anything around him.

He rips the bong, holds it, and blows out the smoke. He gestures to get me to continue.

So I do. “I have nothing left, no future, no plans. For the first time in my life I feel like there’s… nothing for me.” I’m messing with the cuticle on my thumb. I exhale. “I quit because it didn’t matter. None of it does. I got my degree, I did everything right, and for what?”

He says nothing,

I continue. “I can’t go home. I don’t have a home.” I hesitate. My throat is tight. Fucking fuck. My hands are fists. “I don’t even know why I’m still here.”

Mateo’s face doesnt change. He just takes another drink, watching me over his glass with his sharp fuckin eyes. He doesnt do the concerned “you have so much to live for” bullshit.

“You dont wanna kill yourself.” he says, looking at me with too intense of a glare. “You want to make them pay. The people who made you feel like this.” He gets up, “I have a better idea.” he says.

He points, gesturing for me to hand him the Crown Royal. He takes it into the kitchen. Theres slamming of various cabinets and clinkings of glasses. Whatever dishware he found, he rinses out in the sink. Then pours two fingers of the crown in two glasses.

Well… he hands me the one scotch glass he found. He’s decided to use a coffee mug, with ‘CHILL, I GOT A SPREADSHEET FOR THAT’ in faded letters on the side.

I stand up, and we cheers. His eyes don’t leave me as we both drink.

Then:

“You think your life is over? No.. This? This is where it begins."

I roll my eyes. "Mateo…"

"No, really. You’ve never been more free than you are right now. No job. No obligations. No family ties. You think that makes you directionless, but that makes you untouchable."

I scoff. "Yeah, well, I’m not going to fucking work. And I’m never talking to family again."

"Good!" He yells, making me flinch. "Fuck ‘em. Who needs ‘em? You were never gonna climb their stupid little ladder anyway. And your mom doesn’t want you to be happy, she wants you to suffer."

I hate that he’s right..

"You were already dying, Luigi. The system kills you slowly. You just finally broke free of their chains."

I rub my face, exhausted. "Yeah, okay, but that doesn’t help me now. I have nothing."

"Exactly. Nothing to stop you from taking fate by the throat and making your life mean something real."

Something real.

He leans forward, "Luigi, tell me something." he’s watching me too closely. "Why do people let it happen?"

I blink. "What?"

"Why does nobody ever really do anything?" his intensity is getting dialed up, sharp and crackling. "You’re not dumb. You’ve seen it. The world is built on suffering. The little guy gets ground into dust so the motherfuckers up top can keep their yachts and their golf courses and their congressional insider trading rings. It’s all rigged.”

His voice gets low, quieter, and dangerous, "And the only way to win a rigged game is to flip the fucking table."

I swallow.

He means every word.

"You wanna know the truth, Luigi?" He gestures broadly. "These fuckers deserve to die."

His voice is smooth when he says it, like its really just a matter of fact.

"You were ready to die. But why should it be you?"

Something inside me,already dead and rotting, is listening very closely. I’m suddenly furious. Mateo sees it.

He sets down his mug of crown on the coffee table, and does a little dance in place, a little too excited about this dangerous conversation. He’s rubbing his hands together. “We’re gonna roleplay.”

“No we arent.”

“Yeah we are.” he snaps back, already decided, he’s in his performance theatre mode, “I’m the ceo of a multi billion dollar health insurance company. And you’re a single mother of 2. One of your kids has seizures and needs a specific medication to live a normal life.”

He continues “Now, ask me if its covered.” he politely puts his hands together in front of him, waiting for my answer.

“Is it covered?--”

Mateo claps his hands, delighted. “NO!” he shouts, practically bouncing on his heels. “Of course it’s not covered! What do I look like, a fucking charity?” He gestures wildly with his hands, like I’m the crazy one. “What, you think we just give life-saving medicine away? How entitled of you..”

Then he grabs the gun from the coffee table and slaps it into my hand.

I don’t even really think about holding onto it, not at first. It’s just there, weighty and solid in my hand, and my thumb finds the texture of the grip, which is rough and stippled. It’s something to hold onto in the middle of all this. I run my thumb over it, slow, dragging across the bumps and ridges like there’s some kind of message in it if I just keep rubbing. It grounds me. It keeps me from spinning out.

Which is fucking dangerous. Because the longer I hold onto it, the more natural it starts to feel.

He exhales, shaking his head like I’m so slow. “C’mon, man, use your brain. What are your options?” He starts ticking them off on his fingers. “Cry? Beg? Sell your car? Sell your house? Get a third fucking job? Watch your kid suffer? or….” he gestures at the gun in my hand.

I should say something. I should say something.

I shake my head. “youve lost your mind.”

He rolls his eyes, “Luigi. The system doesn’t listen, It does not care if you beg. It does not care if you march in the streets, protest, light some candles, or post a fucking hashtag.” He stops, eyes locking on mine. “But it will listen to this.” He nods at the gun.

He leans in further, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Shit doesnt change until the people in power feel afraid. and the only way to make them afraid?” He nods at the gun again. “you make an example out of one of them.”

I exhale, slow.

Mateo is beaming with his sharp fucking teeth.. “What’s one less CEO, huh?”

I don’t answer.

[berrypass-de-murdler]

3 - 2 A Slippery Slope to Homicide

I feel... actually good about this??? I bet that means someone's gonna come and shove me down again

After LOTS of drafting Sunflower is done, taking some peacock vibes from Raven's suggestion :3 Their hair and tail are made of petals (of course), and when they remove their helmet their hair spreads out like a flower. Their feet have retractable claws that function as built-in skis - not pleasant to look at, but very convenient! I'm quite happy with the result!

DON'T READ THE EPISODES WITHOUT READING THE BOOKS!!

LOGICO: I hate this. IRRATINO: Please calm down, Logico, you’re so high-strung! I’m taking you on vacation because I love you. I want you to enjoy yourself. There are things to do that don’t involve murder! Why not you try something you’ve never done before?

Logico grunts in response. They are at a ski resort… should he? 

LOGICO: All right… I will.

Logico puts on a helmet and goggles that don’t fit to cover his one eye. He straps on boots, and grabs his gear, Irratino prouder than ever. 

BLAXTON: Oh my god, Logico! Race me! RACE ME!

Taupe, who isn’t wearing anything extra other than gloves on his feet, jumps and clicks his heels. A painfully adorable giant fluffy boy that looks like a teddy bear also comes out to greet Logico.

CINNAMON: Welcome… to the slopes! <3 LOGICO: All right all right I’m not RACING anybody, this is only my first time.

Hack Blaxton completely ignores him and positions himself alongside him. But just as they’re about to start, Taupe jumps in front of them.

TAUPE: -... --- -.. -.-- LOGICO: Huh? SERIOUSLY?

Taupe nods with its whole body. Logico glares at Irratino like it’s his fault.

IRRATINO: I… [sigh]

Some basic investigation occurs, Logico removing himself from his ridiculous getup. Immediately, he suspects the new character, who is far too perfect to be innocent.

LOGICO: You… Where were you when this BODY ‘appeared’? CINNAMON: Oh… well… I don’t know… I don’t go on the ski lift so… not there.

He tries to hide his face in his huge paws.

BLAXTON: I also can’t go on a ski lift! I’ll throw up! I did on some people last time I was here. It sucked, but you shoulda seen their faces! HAHAHAHA!

Taupe is on the ski lift, however, and is flying away. Logico tries to run uphill, but cannot due to his no legs. He flops on his belly and tries to claw his way up instead, until Irratino picks him up and reaches the top. Taupe flops down out of the lift, but has nothing to say. He slides a wet piece of paper to Logico. 

“Cinnamon has a snowball, Deductive.”

It’s probably from Irratino, but he’s not usually this cold about it. He only ever calls him ‘Deductive’ nowadays if something’s wrong.

LOGICO: Irratino, are you alright? IRRATINO: Yeah, why? LOGICO: … 

When he re-examines the clues, he discovers that the murderer was Hack Blaxton, who’s all the way at the bottom of the hill. And the fastest way to get to the bottom of the hill…

Logico gets his gear again, and Cinnamon and Taupe cheer for him. And he glides down, screaming, before nearly crashing directly into the culprit. 

BLAXTON: You coulda killed me!! LOGICO: Well, YOU killed someone ELSE. BLAXTON: Fine. I killed him. But- but it was for research! I’m writing a murder mystery, and as Dame Obsidian always says, ‘Write what you know’! LOGICO: Well now you can write about getting caught. BLAXTON: Aww… IRRATINO: I’m proud of you, Logico. You did great! LOGICO: Yes yes, alright… I’m not a child, you know.

Irratino picks him up anyway. At least Logico has calmed down a bit.

The end! 

omg omg omg omg omg omg cimanon

I'm uhhhhhh gonna order a plush logico soon :3

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

[primatechnosynthpop]

I literally never shut up about the headlines that scroll past at the bottom during the news report scene in Ryan's Christmas Wish SO here's my official ranking of how much each headline makes me think about the implications

"Paul McCartney 'Simply having'...": all this indicates is the existence of Paul McCartney. Could've guessed that one on my own

"Unidentified flying sled reported by hundreds": I guess this means Santa is real in nkotr but big deal. Santa is real in most christmas media

"Kidnapping and attempted homicide blamed on Bigfoot": it doesn't say who was kidnapped, and the wording implies this claim may not be true, so it doesn't even confirm the existence of bigfoot in nkotr. It does make me think it would be fun to connect the nkotr universe to the skit "Bigfoot Begins" though

"Sleigh ride ends tragically in tar pit": does this mean there's a tar pit in Plymouth county? Maybe, but it could also be international news

"Presidential pajama party cancelled": if the president throwing this party was the same one from the money tree, this sheds some light on his fun side. Perhaps the party had to be canceled because there were bigger Responsibilities(tm) to attend to

"Meteorologists predicting enchanted snowfall later": literally did not think about this one at all until I was typing up this post but it does have some interesting implications if taken literally. If magic is an established thing that scientists acknowledge, that makes Neil's belief in ghosts gel more with being a man of science and also makes Kevin's skepticism sillier

"Local man saves christmas, scared stupid": the implied existence of Ernest in the nkotr verse is huge for me as a certified Ernest girlie. And he's a local, too! However, I feel like not everyone cares about this as much as I do, so I'm putting it lower than I'm inclined to

"'Misery Mountain' declared historic landmark": ok so this means the world at large is aware of Misery Mountain-- it's not hidden away somewhere that only Frosty could find. Are people similarly aware of its inhabitant, or has the Misery Meister only taken up residence there recently? (The name being put in quotes makes me wonder if the mountain previously had a different name...) And if not because of the Meister, what else about the mountain may have made it historically significant?

"Local family celebrates Hanukkah": this made me look up when Hanukkah fell in 2008 and as such work out a more concrete timeline for the story's events. FTR this news report would have been happening on the evening of the 22nd at the earliest, so Rocky was already missing for a couple weeks before they got on the news

"Humans remains discovered in chamber beneath Plymouth Rock": if those were John Smith's remains, why/how did he die after remaining alive for so long down there? Were the new kids' actions in episode 1 an indirect cause somehow? Or was it someone else's remains-- perhaps someone John Smith killed with his sword?

"Shoppers Riot as 'New Kids' action figures make record sales": the fact that the new kids were that popular in-universe tracks with grandpa Kevin's line at the start implying the Studio is still going strong in the future, and it really makes you wonder what happened to land them in poverty a few years later. I also wonder how fast their rise to popularity was-- Wendy hasn't heard of them in episode 2, but by episode 3 a random kid knows of them. Is the kid particularly dialed in, or is Wendy out of the loop?

"Search for missing Plymouth man Max Pacheco continues into sixth month": for one thing it's weird that Max the character has the same last name as his actor because unlike the main three he wasn't really playing an exaggerated version of himself. But mainly WHY HAS MAX BEEN MISSING THAT LONG?? I thought maybe the uploads of nkotr on youtube were from a bit later than they originally came out, but I looked through their facebook and the series premiered in September. This means Max had already been declared missing some months before getting blown up. Incredible

[sofasoap]

Lastochka - Part III

Pairing : Nikolai x F!Reader ( OC/Mini MacTavish)

Summary: Keeping it under the radar has its benefit. until it isn't.

Part I , Part II, Interlude, Part IV

Warning : Mature theme. Violence, innuendos and hint of smut mentioned.

Thanks to @homicidal-slvt for planting ideas into my brain. this whole series is all for you :)

Check out @shkretart for their beyond amazing artwork of Nikolai ( and the CoD boys )

My usual thanking @saltofmercury, mother of Mini, for lending me the character :) Please go and check out her fics!

“masterlist” for Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

LIke playing with Russian roulette, even Lady Fortuna’s luck runs out. 

“We will go dark for a while Nik, the mission won’t take too long. I will be back before you know it.”  you smiled at him. 

He hasn’t heard from you for over a month. His little Swallow. Lost in the wild. No one will tell him anything. Why?

Because no one knows about you two. 

It was an unspoken agreement. Keeping it lowkey. No one else needs to know. Keeping things professional on the surface.

Even if Price noticed. He hasn’t said a thing. 

You started seeking him out more often after the safe house incident. 

“You still got my phone number right?” 

“ Maybe? Maybe not?”

“ I knew you wouldn’t throw it away.” The irritated look you gave him. He loves to get on your nerves. But at the same time he knows you aren’t afraid to bite back or correct him. He loves a woman with a bit of fire. 

He takes on every chance that was offered to him to be close to you. Any mission that needs him to be back up, he is in. Need transportation? He will fly you and the team there. No questions asked. 

“Payment?” He will look at you and half joke to the boy. “Mini can be the payment.” That never ends well, Soap jumps in ready to tear his head off with Ghost and Gaz tries to pull him back, Price looks at his friend with a knowing glare and shakes his head and you hide behind Price, utterly mortified.

He savours the time with you alone, on standby at the rendezvous point. Started off you shyly leaning against him. Offer him more of your baking ( he loves your chocolate biscuits) everytime you two share a cup of coffee, waiting for the team to return. The adorable little pout when he teases you and you couldn’t return with a witty retort in time.

Or that little smile on your face as you watch him checking through the gears and parts in the helicopter.

One day, he was sitting in the pilot seat, checking over the flight plan. It has been a long demanding mission. You have been up for two days straight, patching the teams up. He can see the strains and fatigue is starting to get to you, your red rimmed eyes says it all.

Putting down his paperwork, he waves you over. Dragging your sluggish feet over to where he is, he pulls you into his lap. You wiggle around a little bit, finding a comfortable position before leaning your head against his chest. 

“Tired?” You nodded your head in response.

“Sleep for a bit.It’s ok. It will be a while before they return.” 

“Nik.” 

“Hmm?” Taking his sunglasses off as he looked down, noticing you were gazing up at him with glassy eyes as you reached up, one hand cupping his face, another running your finger through his hair, combing it with care and tenderness.

“Спасибо.”

He leaned his head down slightly, his mouth hovering over yours.

“Ненаглядная,” he murmured.  “You know what would be better than thanking me with words?”

“Kissing you?”

“That’s my clever girl.” closing the gap as he finishes, he finally got the first taste of you. Those soft luscious lips he has been dreaming and craving for months. And he wants more.

He made sure when there were only two of you, away from the bloodshed and chaos and the preying eyes, he worshipped his beautiful Goddess with all the attention. Showering you with all his love, making sure your body will only crave for him, his immortal lover, calling out only his name every time he pushes you up high.

“Where is she?”  Nikolai demanded as he stormed into the briefing room.

“M.I.A. we don’t know.”  Price snapped at him, already frustrated at the lack of details from your disappearance. And the guilt of pressing you into another covert mission. He doesn’t need Nikolai to come in and add more complications.

“Package extracted, safely hidden. THEY ARE HERE. DO not come looking for me.” The message ended up with the sound of a gunshot and your scream.

By the time they have reached your last signal transmission spot, you have already disappeared. All there left was the mission package you have successfully obtained and a dog tag with a simple wedding band attached and pool of blood.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Soap growled. 

“Пиздец , Soap ,SHE IS MY WIFE!!” Slamming his hand on the desk, “I do have the right to be here and know what is going on! Just like you do!”

Deafening silence settled in the briefing room as the bombshell was dropped. 

Everything became clear to Price from your hesitation, and your requests before you left.

“Alright. But don’t tell Nik about the details.” looking down on the floor, toying with your dog tag chain. “This might be the last mission I can take for a little while.” 

“Getting tired of us stinky boys?” Price laughed.

Shaking your head. “Planning a trip. Promised someone I would take a break with them.” That little mysterious smile, Price knew not to push for anymore details. 

You and Nikolai were planning for the honeymoon. 

“Lads. Everyone needs to calm down here.” Laswell broke the silence. “Any personal questions, save it for later. Our priorities here are to try and find Mini, and get her out.” If she is still alive. The unspoken words.

Laswell turned and threw some files at Nikolai, he quickly flipped through it.

Pausing on one of the pages as he spotted a name. “Laswell.” he frowned. “Are you sure these are Bratva that are involved?”

“Positive.” Laswell took out another file. “Got any connections?”

“Connection?” He let out a bitter laugh. A vicious smile appeared on his face. The Russian bear has been awakened. “Their Pahkan owes me a favour. A HUGE favour.”

Everyone turned and looked at Nikolai. First time in days there is a bit of a breakthrough. There might be hope to find you after all. They will not give up until they physically see your body. Dead or alive. 

People should know , they do not mess around with Nikolai , the leader of Chimera, or his loved ones. He will make them PAY. 

Спасибо - Thank you.

Ненаглядная - precious

Пиздец - damn it

tag :

@roosterr @preciouslittlecreature

@boughhs

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

A Strange Sort of Family

hi, resident evil fandom, i'd like to throw my hat in the ring

look, i don't even really go here, the fandom mold just got into my brain and would not fucking leave. this is my first time writing any of these characters so if they feel a bit rocky, please forgive me. my media analysis brain has been spinning nonstop since we started the resident evil brain rot and ho boy would I love to sink my teeth into a proper horror fic but! i don't know if i'm there yet so i figured i'd start a bit easier for me :)

also--we all know there's no way ethan's just gone from the franchise now, right? like, sure, he's dead, but he died like 30 minutes into re7 and that didn't fucking stop him

ALSO also big shoutout to @dragonsareaqueerthing and @greenninjagal-blog for the encouragement to actaully make the words go :) hopefully i'll be spending more time in this fandom now that I've got that ball rolling

Read on Ao3

Warnings: talk about events of shadows of rose dlc, nothing explicit, bullying

Pairings: implied ethan/mia/chris, but Ethan & Rose is the focus

Word Count: 10,919

You'd think after about 16 years of being treated like a child and the most powerful bioweapon the world has ever seen, you might get used to it.

Nope!

Not even slightly.

Sometimes a family is a molded bioweapon, a traumatized agent, a former bioterrorist, and a series of golden, sparkly words. Sometimes family is decorating your room with your mother, sometimes family is hugging a pillow because your dad isn't here anymore. Sometimes family is training too hard and going out for ice cream, sometimes family is a dinner where your parents won't stop teasing you.

Or, five times Ethan Winters was there for his daughter, and one time Rosemary Winters was there for her father.

1.

You'd think after about 16 years of being treated like a child and the most powerful bioweapon the world has ever seen, you might get used to it.

Nope!

Not even slightly.

Okay, well, maybe slightly, but only in the way she's able to shake off some of the lesser things that would've made her really upset before. She's no longer threatening the lives of the agents that call her Eveline, to her face or behind her back when they think she can't hear them. Even when she really, really wants to. Small victories.

But despite her best efforts, she still returns to the cell block of a room—Chris had been so insistent that it wasn't a cell, but it was all concrete walls and a tiny window and a camera that she knows is in the corner—and curls up on her bed, jamming her headphones in and refusing to engage with the outside world until she could summon up the resolve to impersonate a normal person again.

Today had been no exception.

Rose throws her backpack onto her desk chair and slings her hat over the hook, kicking her shoes off and collapsing face-first onto the bed with a groan. More tests today, always more fucking tests. Didn't they have every inch of her shitty, moldy body cataloged by now? She has half a mind to start making shit up when they ask her the same stupid questions. 'How are you feeling today, Rose?' Oh, you know, just getting stuck with more needles than a fucking porcupine, how do you fucking think I'm feeling? Yeah, no, no homicidal instincts yet, just had one murderous thought the other day when I was imagining mold eating the bitch who called me a charity case. Although I did go to the park after I snuck away from that asshole you have tailing me on Tuesdays to see if I could amass a mushroom army, how was your day?

A small laugh leaves her throat at the thought of the doctor's face if she actually did say that, but then she'd probably have two assholes tailing her until they deemed her 'no longer a risk.' God, they were supposed to be these super highly trained agents, then why the fuck do they suck ass at being subtle?

Turns out, even having mold superpowers means she still has to breathe like a normal person, so she drags her face up from the bed and doesn't even bother to fully get up to inchworm up to the pillows. She mashes her face against the slightly cold surface—honestly, the best part about this prison-cell-ass room was that the air conditioning was always on Arctic, so her pillows were always cold—and grabs her phone, squinting at the notifications.

One from school saying her group project deadline was coming up…something from some shopping website she'd logged onto out of pure boredom three weeks ago…and a text from Chris.

Rose sits up a little more and opens the text. "Overseas this week…sorry I'll miss the—you fucking dick!"

Of course Chris is working this weekend, of course he's not gonna be fucking here to take her to the cemetery—great, that means another two hours of bus rides until she can actually go see her dad. She swears he does this on purpose sometimes, how often does he actually need to go overseas for 'work?' And it's not like anyone else here would be able to take her, she's learned her fucking lesson about asking them for anything more than more fucking food. Not bothering to stifle her groan, she flops back onto the bed, only for her phone to clatter out of her hand and onto the floor.

Great. Now she has to move again to pick it up.

She decides that moving is actually not what she's going to do right now, letting one arm hang over the edge of the bed, her cheek scrunched awkwardly against the lip of the mattress. She tucks her face against the collar of her jacket and rubs her thumb against the ring on her finger.

"Sorry it's gonna take me longer," she mumbles, "I really wanted to spend longer with you this time."

Her eyes widen when gold sparkling words appear on the floor next to her phone.

it's okay

"What the—" she whips around to look at the door, closed tightly, and jerks back— "how—"

The words are still there. The words are still etched into the floor, right next to her phone. She should check if they're on the camera—no, they can fucking hack into her phone whenever they want, and she doesn't—she can't—if this really is—

Rose swallows the lump in her throat as the words shift and change.

you ok?

"I—what—how are—" she swallows again, camera in the corner of the room, "uh, M-Michael?"

A pause as the words reform: sure

"I mean, I—I know," she says quickly, "I know what—I know what this is, I…I remember, it's just…"

camera, I know

"How is this possible?" she whispers, not daring to move from her haphazard scramble up the bed, "I thought you were—I mean, at the end, when we, uh, did the thing, it seemed like you were…that you were going again."

The words sparkle again as she grips the sleeve of her jacket—his jacket.

apparently i'm bad at it

"Bad at what?"

staying dead

Another laugh chokes its way out of her throat and she reaches out without thinking about it, just to touch the words. They glow a little bit brighter as she touches them and the tips of her fingers glow. Almost as an afterthought, she grabs her phone and shoves it behind her, hopefully muffling the microphone and at the very least, getting its cameras away from her dad.

Her dad. Those are her dad's words, that's her dad, he's here, he's here.

"Are you—is this…are you really here?"

sort of, as the golden words swirl around, part of you

"What do you mean, 'part of me?'"

not a scientist

"You're the only other m—person like me I know, I'm sure it'll be fine." She can almost hear the little huff of laughter as the golden sparkles swirl again. It seems like it's the same as it was when she was in there, with her dad only able to say a few words at a time.

i'm part of the mold, just like you, we're sharing a part right now

"Are you always sharing a part with me?"

i wish i could, and she feels her chest hurt a little bit, takes energy

"I guess that makes sense." Her arm begins to ache from being so stretched out. "I really miss you."

i miss you too sweetie

Fuck, she's 16, she should not be getting this choked up over her dad calling her 'sweetie,' but fuck it, she's a mold person and her dad's dead, she's allowed to sniffle a little when those words glow warmly under her fingers. Some hysterical part of her wonders if he'd be able to give her a tissue or a hanky the way he gave her guns and chem fluid in there, but she scrubs at her nose with her sleeve and decides that it's enough right now that he's here, in her room, still calling her sweetie.

***

2.

She almost recognizes it the second time, a tug in her gut. Given that she's got her hands over her face and is currently doing a fabulous impression of an angry seal, it'd be harder for her to see it. Still, she can't help the dumb smile on her face when she rolls over.

bad day?

"Oh, you know," she mumbles, "just your average day of being a human guinea pig."

ew

She snorts, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle it. "You know I get a look at their notes sometimes? That's what they call you, just your initials."

surprised they're still talking about me

"What do you mean? Of course they're still talking about you, you're the—" she cuts herself off. The golden sparkles swirl.

i'm the what?

"Never mind."

The floorboards wait expectantly, but she twists the ring around her finger, chewing on her lip. After another moment, new words appear.

can i help?

"With what? With the tests?"

with you

Another tug in her gut, this time at the fact that she can't actually remember the last time someone asked after her, not their biggest liability or their most dangerous weapon. She props herself up on the cold pillows—thank you, government AC—and sighs. "I'm just really tired."

i bet

"Like—are they bored? What do they get out of sticking me with the same needle fifty different times? And it's not like they talk to me about anything, they just look at each other and then fake-smile at me and they tell me 'you're doing great,' like I'm supposed to know what that means. And the other people aren't any better! They keep trying to train me how to do a thing but they're not—it's not like they tell me why we're doing something or what I'm supposed to be doing instead, they just tell me I'm wrong and that's it."

that sucks

She huffs. "You have no idea."

After a moment, though, she realizes that might not actually be true. From what little she's actually managed to get Chris to tell her, and what she can learn from Mom, they were both held in BSAA's quarantine for ages before they moved over to Romania. And if Mom knew about Dad's…not-aliveness way before he did, then they must've done some sort of tests on him too.

"Can I ask you something?"

anything

"Did they, um, did they test you too?"

The floorboards stay empty for a minute, but it feels more like he's thinking than it does him avoiding the question. Sure enough, after another moment, words start appearing again.

they did, they didn't tell me anything either, just that i was lucky

"Lucky how?"

to have made it, even when i didn't

"You did, though," she mumbles, fiddling with the ring again, "you—this part of you made it. Chris told me, Mom told me. You…even after you were…gone the first time, you…you came back. The important parts of you, they came back."

and i'm grateful for it, for you

"You're gonna make me cry," she mutters, scrunching up a little tighter.

i love you Rosie

"Shut up." It's empty and they both know it. A few extra sparkles swirl around and she could swear he's laughing. "I love you too."

Sunlight streams in through her tiny window and she finds herself looking at the way the leaves on the tree dapple the shadow across the floor. Part of her dad's words are still glowing. She looks at the nightstand, bare except for her charger and alarm clock, then over at the desk where her school stuff is, then at the dresser. She reaches out and touches the metal bedframe. It's cold underneath her fingers.

what's wrong?

"Nothing." The words remain and she sighs. "I'm just being mopey."

you're allowed to mope

"Someone at school said something today," she says before she can think better of it, and she winces at how young she sounds.

bullies?

"Not really, it wasn't even really about me, I just—it's stupid."

if you're upset it's not stupid

"They were just talking about this thing they got for their room, okay?" Embarrassment makes her curl her fingers into the loose fabric of her jacket. "It's this mirror thing that hooks up to your phone and lets you play music and stuff from there. They were just talking about it and I thought—see, I told you it was stupid."

There's another pause. The breeze rustles the leaves outside. The shadows dance over the walls.

do you want it?

"Not really…I don't like mirrors that much anyway. And it's not like they'd let me just have another thing that connects to the Internet in here." She glances at the alarm clock. "I barely got them to let me get a laptop for school stuff. I don't think they've got a 'Mold Bioweapon Allowance' in their budget."

The silence grows thoughtful. She turns her head to look at the floorboards again, watching the few sparkles there swirl around.

it's your room, they say finally, it should feel like it

Rose scoffs. "What am I supposed to do, walk up and ask them to sponsor a shopping trip?"

why not?

"They're not gonna do that. They're just gonna brush me off again or tell me they're busy."

you've tried?

"I told you, I barely managed to get a laptop, which is something I need to be able to do schoolwork or anything, even have a taste of what being normal is like. And even then I had to argue for like, ages, and I had to get one of my teachers to write an email saying that it's necessary." She swats the white pillowcase, bitterness seeping into her words. "Everything else isn't necessary. They're all about practicality, like I'm just some other expense they have to deal with."

what about Chris? or Mom?

"Chris isn't here. He's always off somewhere doing something or he's here glaring at me like I'm some stupid new recruit that he doesn't want to have to train. And Mom's…I don't want to bother her, you know? She's got her own life now."

she's your mom, come the words almost before she's done speaking, she'd want to know

Rose sighs, sitting up to lean against the headboard. She twists the ring around and around her finger, chewing on her lip. "I don't know. Sometimes it feels like she's…like she doesn't want to know."

Another pause. What her dad had said before, about them sharing a part of the mold—she can feel something in her chest. An emotion that isn't quite hers, something like a deep and exasperated sadness. It's faint, not quite enough to put words there, but she can tell when she needs to look back down at the floor.

she does love you, let her

"Okay. I'll try."

thank you

"Would you come shopping with me?" she asks, even when she knows the answer. "If you could?"

The room gets a little happier as the sparkles swirl around.

i'd spend all day with you

"What did you want to have in your room? When you were my age?"

telescope

"A telescope?" She laughs. "Did you want to be an astronaut?"

astronaut ew

She laughs again and the sunlight seems a little brighter.

***

3.

She meets Mom at a coffee shop near the big bookstore downtown. She's not wearing Dad's jacket—it still feels weird to do, even after Mom's said it's fine—but she has his ring on a necklace under her shirt. Mom waves her over to a table in the corner, nodding to the smoothie already waiting.

"Pineapple mango," she says as Rose sits down, "your favorite."

"Thanks, Mom." She takes a big drink, savoring the weird feeling the pineapple leaves on her tongue. "How're you?"

"I'm okay. Work's been getting busy again recently with the month's end rush." Mom swirls her straw around her coffee. "Did I tell you about this new thing our boss is trying to make us do?"

"No, what?"

"Apparently some young CEO in the area made it big on corporate social media about 'team building exercises,'" and Rose is already groaning in sympathy, "so he sent out this survey this past week about what activity we'd rather do."

"What were the options?"

"This group painting class thing, where we all paint the same picture—"

"Like in kindergarten?"

"Like in kindergarten," Mom agrees, "there's a bar-arcade place that's just opened up on the West Side that does private events, and then there's a good old-fashioned work dinner."

Rose makes a face. "That's it? No, like, crazy obstacle courses, or escape rooms, or anything?"

"We barely had the budget for the normal year-end stuff."

"So what did you vote for?"

"I ended up voting for the painting, actually—"

"What? Mom, that's so lame."

"Hey!" She jokingly flicks a napkin at Rose. "Lamer than the most awkward dinner you can imagine or sitting and drinking for a whole evening?"

"Isn't that what adults do? You sit and drink and talk?"

Mom sighs, shaking her head as they both laugh. "Yeah, well, I figured it might be better if we tried to do something that wasn't just sitting and drinking."

"I guess."

"Besides, I'm still missing something for the bathroom upstairs. Maybe I'll hang up whatever I manage to make there," she adds, winking at Rose.

It's supposed to be a joke at how bad at art she is—really, even Chris looked at her stick figures and struggled to find something nice to say, and Mom just laughed it off—but Rose's smile fades and she shuffles a little in the chair. She drinks more of her smoothie. Dad's words turn over and over in her head.

"Hey, Mom?"

"Mm?"

"Would you…" She fights the urge to reach for the ring. "Would you help me decorate my room?"

Mom's brow furrows. "At my house?"

"N-no, my…my room at the compound. It's stupid, never mind."

"It's not stupid, Rose," Mom says, picking up her coffee, "I'm just—I guess I'm just surprised. Most teens don't really want their parents anywhere near their rooms."

"Yeah, well, forget it."

A car drives by. Despite herself, she reaches for the ring anyway. Something warm pulses in her chest.

"It's just," she manages, "I don't really have anything in there. It's just the military stuff."

Mom's coffee cup hits the table with a thud. "What do you mean you don't have anything in there?"

"I mean, there's just a dresser, a desk, and a bed. And my little side table thing. They didn't really give me any—"

"How much time do you have?"

Rose blinks. "Huh?"

"How much time before you have to get back?" Mom's already getting up and putting the lid back on her coffee. "We're not that far from the big stores and I have my car."

"I, uh, I think I have a few hours, so—" she scrambles up too, reaching to grab Mom's arm— "wait, you're really okay with doing this?"

Mom pauses for a moment, then reaches out and covers Rose's hand with hers. "You're my daughter, Rosie, I'd love to help you decorate your room."

A lump appears in her throat and she swallows it down. "Thank you."

"Come on," Mom grins, "what are you thinking you want?"

"Uh, I was thinking maybe like a whiteboard? That way I could write down stuff that I might forget? Or like—a magnetic one so I could stick stuff to it?" She gets into Mom's car and they start driving. "Or a corkboard—I've seen a lot of people pin like, pictures and stuff to a corkboard on their walls."

"What if you get both? A corkboard to put pictures and cute stuff and then a whiteboard to write on?"

"I also want a lamp. The normal lights just make my head hurt. And they buzz, you know?"

"Oh, I know exactly what you're talking about. It's like the world's most annoying crickets, isn't it?"

"And there's no, like, in between! It's either no light at all or—"

"Or my eyes are being scorched out, that's right."

They pull into the parking lot of the store and get out, still bouncing ideas back and forth. Mom grabs a cart and they head straight for the stationary section and they spend about five minutes talking about the different corkboards and whiteboards. Then Rose decides she wants magnets so she can stick stuff to the whiteboard, then Mom spots a cute set of push pins, and then another mom and daughter walk by with one of those fancy photo printers that print out pictures from your phone like Polaroids, and they just have to get Rose one of those.

As they pick out lamps and wall decor and sheets that actually have some color, she's struck by how normal this is. She's with her mom. They're shopping for stuff for her room. They're freaking out over the pillows that have little penguins on them. She's actually smiling and laughing and she's excited. She can't wait to get back and put all this stuff in her room.

She just…wishes Dad could be here too.

"I think I'd prefer the yellow lampshade, but it's up to you." Mom looks up from the shelf to notice she's gone quiet. "Hey, what's going on?"

"Nothing, nothing," she says quickly, wiping surreptitiously at her face, "…just…I kinda wish Dad was here too."

Mom's fingers stutter on the box and for a moment, she thinks she's going to see those walls go up again, the ones that always go up when she tries to talk about Dad, but then Mom puts the box down and rubs at her wedding ring. She still wears it sometimes. Rose reaches for Dad's, under her shirt.

"I wish he was here too, Rosie," Mom says quietly, "he'd be so proud of you."

Rose swallows, and her eyes catch on a tiny monkey LED lamp further down the shelf. She picks it up. "I think he'd vote for this one, don't you?"

A hint of fond exasperation comes to Mom's face. "God, did I ever tell you what happened when he found out that you loved that little monkey you got when you were still a baby? He tried to buy everything monkey-themed he could find because he thought you might like it."

"Wait, really?"

"I had to get Chris to help me talk him out of buying an entire monkey crib for you."

Rose puts the monkey lamp in the cart. Mom smiles and they keep walking. They end up spending way more than she thought they'd be and sheepishly tries to put some stuff back, but Mom won't hear a word of it and bags everything up.

"Chris can help cover the cost if he's so worried about it," she declares as they pull back up to the meeting spot where the car is supposed to take Rose back to the compound, "anyway, all of this should have been done years ago."

"Thanks, Mom," Rose says, "I had fun."

"We should definitely do it again. I'll help you decorate your college dorm too."

Rose smiles and gets out of the car. It fades a bit when she sees Paul again, leaning against the side of the van with his arms crossed. She turns her back deliberately on him and goes to help Mom get all the bags out of the trunk.

"You're late," Paul says, like he has any right to sound like a smug, condescending asshole.

"By like five minutes. Open the trunk."

"What's all that?"

"Stuff. For my room."

"Well, I—hey!" Paul finally moves when Mom just opens the trunk and starts putting the bags inside.

"You must be the agent Rose told me about," Mom says, her voice saccharine as she dusts off her hands, "is that right, honey?"

"Yeah," she mumbles, "that's him."

"Paul," he says, "Ms. Winters."

"Mia." Mom holds out her hand and he takes it, Rose peering at them from under the brim of her hat. Her eyes widen when Mom yanks Paul closer to her, her smile fading as she hisses in his ear. "Call my daughter Eveline again and I'll break your nose, are we clear?"

Paul jerks in surprise, before turning his head slightly. "Stand down, it's fine, I can handle it."

"You can't afford to make a scene in such a public place," Mom says, her voice still perfectly even, "and Chris won't risk harming me or Rose. So you can start treating my daughter like a person or I can break your nose right now and Chris can clean up your mess."

Rose can't stop her snort as Paul sheepishly walks back to the front of the car and gets in. Mom watches him go before she turns around and says, loud enough for him to hear, "Make sure you send me pictures when you get it the way you want it, okay?"

"I will."

"And if you decide you want anything else, we'll get it next time."

"Thanks, Mom. I love you."

"I love you too, Rosie." She glares once more in Paul's direction before she walks back to her car.

Rose doesn't stop smirking as Paul drives them back to the compound. He slinks off with his tail between his legs after helping her get all her stuff into her room. She can't cover up the camera—and let them know she knows about it—but she can play her music out loud as she decorates, hanging up the little plants they found and pinning a few photos to her new corkboard. It still strikes her how normal all of this is, dancing to her music and putting up all of her new things, finally collapsing onto her now-colorful blankets with a laugh.

She texts a few photos to Mom, who responds with gushing reviews and excited emojis, before she rolls onto her side to look at the floor.

"What do you think?"

The words only take a second to appear.

it's beautiful, sweetie

"You were right," she murmurs, "it was really nice to let Mom take care of me a bit."

i'm glad

"Oh! I forgot to show you the best part!" Rose jumps off the bed and goes over to the far wall, switching on the fairy lights she hung from the ceiling amidst a bunch of fake vines. "Now the camera will just think the glowing is from the lights!"

Golden sparkles swirl beneath the soft glow.

you're so smart

"I mean," she blusters, trying not to show how pleased she is, "I was just tired of lying down to talk to you all the time."

i see, still clever

"Thanks." After a moment, she reaches over and picks up the little monkey lamp and her stuffed monkey, safely hidden beneath her pillows. "Mom told me you wanted to buy a monkey crib for me."

it would go with the onesie

"You got me a monkey onesie?"

mom has pictures

"I'll have to ask her next time." She chews on her lip, running her fingers over the seams of the monkey's ear. "I wish you could've been there."

me too

"Mom threatened to break Paul's nose if he was rude to me again." The light swirls as Dad laughs and she laughs too. "I'd kick him in the nuts too."

that's my girl

***

4.

"Stupid fucking dickhead," she spits as she slams the door, throwing her backpack onto the chair so hard it scrapes across the floor. "Fucking asshole! I'll fucking rip his head off, the fucking bastard!"

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a tiny sparkle from the floorboards, and she stomps over to the lights, turning them on. Almost immediately, golden words swirl up.

what happened?

"Your buddy Chris fucking happened!" Rose throws herself onto the bed and punches the pillow. "He keeps treating me like I'm some—some fucking gun that only he knows how to fire and I'm fucking sick of it!"

It had been especially bad today, too. Chris apparently woke up and decided yeah, today's the day I'm gonna be a total fucking asshole for no goddamn reason. He started them out sparring, which he never does, he always has them warm up first because it's important not to strain yourself, except apparently not today when she was thrown against the fucking ground three times before she could even open her mouth long enough to say hi.

Or maybe ask what the hell crawled up his ass that morning.

And then he kept fucking looking at her like he was disappointed! Like it was her fault she wasn't expecting to be slammed up against the wall or pinned to the ground by a man fucking three times her size and then grunted at when she winced in pain because that fucking hurt, you asshole! And he kept on saying these stupid little comments that just made her angrier and angrier and then he had the gall to be like hey, you need to get a handle on your emotions like he wasn't pushing every single fucking button he knew she had!

You need to be sharper, he'd said like he had any right to try and be reasonable as he almost dislocated her fucking shoulder, emotions make you sloppy.

Yeah, well, he could try being sharper when he was being bullied for no fucking reason.

And when she'd finally screamed at him that she was done, that she didn't want to fucking do this anymore, he had the fucking audacity, the nerve to scoff and cross his arms and tell her that no, she wasn't done, she was only done when he said she was done. And yeah, she hadn't really made the decision to rush at him after that, her body did that on its own, but he literally just tossed her aside like a fucking doll and then said she wasn't leaving until she could do the fucking stupid thing he wanted her to.

She tried. She really fucking did.

But she couldn't do it.

And Chris kept refusing to help, saying he'd been training her for so long already, that he'd wash her out if she were any other recruit—to which she'd screamed that she wasn't, so why the fuck was he being like this? And he didn't fucking answer! He just told her to try it again and he kept making her angrier and angrier and she could tell Chris was getting angry too which just made hers worse because what fucking right did he have to be mad at her? What the fuck did she do to him?

It ended really badly. She'd gotten so mad she'd thrown herself at him again, not caring about proper technique or what was smart or anything, she just went for him. He grappled her, obviously, and that was supposed to be their tap-out, fight's-over thing, but she hadn't stopped. She'd scratched him and punched him and kicked him even when he growled at her to yield, and when that didn't work, she'd bit him.

Chris fucking wrenched her off of him and threw her across the room and she heard three guns click.

They'd glared at each other, Chris holding his arm like it was a fucking biohazard, and then he'd stalked off without a word while agents forcibly shoved her back to her room.

She's panting by the time she finishes, glaring a hole in the wall right below where the words normally appear. Her hands still tingle from where she'd hit the walls and the pillows. She looks up when she sees the familiar swirl.

you shouldn't have bitten him

The anger surges up her arms and she clenches her fists. "That's all you have to say? No 'I'm sorry he was such a dick, Rose?' 'You didn't deserve that?' You're fucking defending him?"

i didn't say that

"I just told you that your friend, the person you told to watch over me and keep me safe was fucking bullying me for no goddamn reason and the only thing you can say is that I shouldn't have defended myself?" Betrayal steeps vehemence into her words. Her nails bite into her palms. "I'm fucking glad I bit him!"

he's trying to help

"How in the fuck is he trying to help," she cries, "by being as bad as the bullies in school? By treating me like a freak that needs to be kept muzzled and on a leash?"

you did bite him

She picks up one of the pillows and hurls it at the wall. It hits with a pathetic thwap and falls limply to the floor. It only makes her angrier when she sees the words calm down when the lights stop shaking.

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down! You're supposed to be on my side!"

i am

She barks out a humorless laugh and picks up the pillow, throwing it back on the bed. "You're not on my side, you're on his. I don't need you lecturing me too. Just leave me alone."

More golden words swirl as she turns away, throwing herself onto the bed and curling up tightly around her stuffed monkey. She chokes around the lump in her throat and wills herself not to cry. She'd almost cried in front of Chris today already, she won't give either of them the satisfaction of seeing her cry now. She won't, she won't, she won't! It's not fucking fair that Chris did that. It's not fucking fair that he gets to act however the fuck he wants and then she's the only one punished for it. He gets to go all over the fucking world and only see her when it's convenient to him and he gets to be an asshole about it.

Dad's not even alive.

A sob chokes out before she can stop it, and then it's too late. She's blubbering like she's a stupid fucking baby again and she can hear the echoes of their voices in her ears. All alone, poor freak Rose, crying like a baby who doesn't get her way. She's so weird, she's so stupid, she can't do it. She's useless, she's not strong enough. Just go away. No one wants you here. No one wants you. No matter how hard she presses her hands to her ears, they won't fucking shut up!

Maybe she should've fucking kept the purifying crystal. Maybe she should've left with no powers and had a normal fucking life. Maybe she should've just left her dad to—

As soon as the thought threatens to cross her mind, she recoils from it. Guilt and anger war in her gut as she nearly grows sick. How could she fucking think that? After all he'd done to save her, protect her, how could she think about something like that, even if it was in a fit of rage?

A strangled noise escapes her throat and the bruises and injuries from her humiliating 'sparring session' abruptly make themselves known. Her body screams in pain; her shoulders ache, the bruise on her ribs throbs, and her jaw feels like it's about to explode. She has the hysterical impulse to bite herself and she wonders if it would hurt more than everything else. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpses a glow coming from the floorboards now and she curls up tighter, burying her face in the monkey's tummy. Fuck it, she's been called overly emotional and childish enough times already, she may as well throw her tantrum properly.

It's like falling into the Megamycete again; she has no idea how long she lies there, wallowing in her own emotional turmoil. Flashes of the bullies, of Chris's stupid fucking face, of watching herself get tossed around and left behind…even stranger things like massive castles filled with screams and horror, creepy old houses that just feel like tombs, deep water and clanking metal, all filled with whispers of freak, dangerous, stupid child, not good enough. Everything is too loud and too quiet and she just wants it to be over.

When she finally manages to rouse herself from whatever malaise she'd fallen into, the sun has long set. Her clock shows that it's close to 10—that would explain why her stomach is trying to dig a hole in her intestines. The anger fled unknown hours ago, leaving her weary and wrung out. In its absence, she no longer feels like the bioweapon that she's supposed to be, only the scared and lonely child. It's cold. She's hungry.

There's still a soft golden glow coming from over the side of the bed.

Her lip wobbles. She doesn't want to face the consequences of yelling at her dad and throwing a pillow at him, but she can't stop the blooming warmth that he didn't leave. She crawls to the edge of the bed and peeks over.

i'm sorry Rose

She sniffles and rubs her cheek on the sheets. "'M sorry too."

you were right, i should've been on your side

"You're always on my side," she mumbles, "I know you are."

still

She sniffles again and tucks the monkey under her chin. "Why was Chris so mean today? Did I do something wrong?"

i don't think so, sometimes he's just like that

"Why?" She's ignoring how much she sounds like a baby, thank you. "It's not fair."

no it's not sweetie

Rose closes her eyes, basking in the soft glow of her dad's comfort. "Was he ever mean to you when you were training?"

yeah

"What did you do?"

broke his nose once

It startles a laugh out of her. "You what? Wait, what happened?"

he was being an asshole, so i punched him

She giggles again, both at the image of Chris's surprised face with a broken nose and at the fact that her dad got so angry with Chris that he punched him hard enough. A few more golden sparkles surround the words before they change again.

you shouldn't try it though

"Aw," she complains, mostly for show, "but you did it."

do as i say not as i do

She's quiet. After a moment, she lets her arm hang down to touch the words again. They glow gently. "I don't like fighting with you."

me neither

"I'm sorry. I was being a brat."

The words swirl up quicker than she's ever seen.

you were upset at something unfair, not a being a brat

She sniffles again, reaching over to grab a hanky and blow her nose with a sharp honk. She throws it over to the laundry basket and lies back down. The words have changed.

if you need to hear it, i forgive you

"I forgive you too."

rest

She nestles up against the pillows. "Will you stay until I go to sleep?"

of course sweetie, i love you

***

5.

Mostly Rose doesn't dream. She'll close her eyes and open them again and it will be hours later and it's time to get up. Most of the time when she does dream, it's weird half-memories that aren't hers mixed with something she does actually remember. She has dreams of a house with a red chimney being taken apart by little robotic goats, or of a crocodile swimming through a swamp filled with dead crows, or of bugs crawling over test tubes and dirty flasks. Some of them make sense when she digs into the files she's not really supposed to have access to, some of them don't.

On rare, awful occasions, she has nightmares.

She's been curled up and unmoving for who knows how long, desperately trying to feign sleep. The mold in her keeps prickling like there's something else in the room, watching her, just waiting for a sign that she's awake to pounce. Her white-knuckled grip hasn't wavered either. She dares hardly breathe; even though her rational brain knows there's nothing there, there can't be anything there, her entire body is screaming. She can feel the milky sweat beginning to ooze from her palms.

Something creaks.

She goes stiff as a board.

A creak, a groan, a rumble as the air conditioning turns on and she forces herself to relax, cracking open one eye to see that yes, this is just her room, there's nothing to be afraid of here, she's fine.

Her eyes land on the switch to the fairy lights.

The small and whimpering part of her lunges for them, for the warm glow of the light, her dad's words, in lieu of running to her parents' bed to be comforted. The other part hisses that the second she moves, whatever's lurking in the dark will strike. The monkey wheezes as she tightens her grip, staring at the innocuous plastic box hanging against the wall.

With a sudden burst, she launches herself from the bed, slapping the button, and curling back up beneath the safety of the blankets.

Immediately, the soft warm light chases away the worst of the shadows and she can peek over her shoulder to assure herself that yes, nothing is there, she's safe in her room, everything's okay. Golden sparkles are already swirling, a quiet inquisitiveness filling that one empty part in her chest as she lies back down. He's rotated his words so she can read them easily.

what's the matter, sweetie?

"Nightmare," she whispers, more into her pillow than anything else.

i'm sorry

She curls up tighter, trying to pull the blankets up almost over her head. The sweat's almost ruined her monkey—she's going to have to wash it again—and she wipes her hands on the sheet. The absence of it hits the cold air and she shivers, hunching tighter in the covers and sniffling. A sudden and sharp ache sears through her chest and she shudders, harder this time, only the top of her nose peeking out over the comforter. She's so cold. Not in the way where she can pile more blankets on and it'll go away—she could put the whole world on top of her and she would still be cold. This horrible, achy, exhausting cold that seeps into her bones and makes her want to cry.

what can i do?

"You said in your—in your letter," she hiccups, "that you'd hold me when I had nightmares, and—and sing to me until I went back to sleep."

But the words on her wall are just words and words can't hold anybody.

She wants a fucking hug, goddamnit. No one touches her anymore, not unless they're running some stupid test, or sparring, or escorting her roughly down the hallway like some—some prisoner. The last time someone touched her and it wasn't that it was Mom, telling her she'd help decorate her room and that was so long ago, everyone else just—just—

"I want to go home," she sobs and it lands like a dead weight in the still room.

what do you mean?

"I want to go home, I want to go back to that house you showed—showed me when I was in there, where you—where your memories are and I can actually h-hear you and it's warm an'—an' safe, and you love me," she cries, not caring that it's the middle of the night and she's talking to a wall, "no one here loves me. No one loves me, the doctors think I'm some—some experiment that's run too—too long and the agents all think I'm a l-liability and Mom's not here because she gave me up and Chris h-hates me."

he doesn't hate you sweetie

"He does! He does, he does, I can feel it." She hugs her monkey tightly to her chest. "He h-hates me for being the reason you're not—you're not here anymore and he hates me for reminding him that you're dead and he hates me for—for being like this and—and—and—!"

shh…shh…shh…

But he's not here and she can't hear him shushing her and she's all alone in her cold, dark room and she wants to go home.

don't cry, Rosie, it's gonna be okay sweetie

"It's not. 'S not okay."

The wall doesn't move for a moment, then it swirls again.

scoot back, i'm going to try something

Frowning, she does, shuffling awkwardly back until she's on the far side of the bed. The golden light swirls around for another second, before it writes itself on one of the pillows.

hug me

"D—Michael?"

i'm right here sweetie, i love you so much

With trembling fingers, she reaches for the pillow, touching the words with a soft gasp as they glow warmly against her still-slick palms. A sob of disbelief leaves her throat and she bundles it to her chest, burying her face in it. A soft scratching and buzzing fills her ears as more words write themselves across the pillow, but she doesn't pull her face away to read them. Not when this is the closest thing to hugging her dad she's been since she was in the deepest stratum of the Megamycete, crying over his dying body. Not when she's still so cold and the words are so, so warm. She tucks her face into the crook of the pillow's embrace and she cries.

The words don't stop writing themselves over and over and if she focuses hard enough, it almost sounds like her dad is humming.

She falls into a light sleep, not willing to miss a moment of actually being so close to her dad, soothed by his presence. Soon, light has begun to break through the window, the auto timer on the lights long since activated to switch them off. The pillow is all gross from a mixture of drool, snot, and tears, and she sheepishly tries to wipe it away when a small glow comes from underneath.

it's okay

"It's kinda gross."

my privilege, i'm your dad

"Still."

ew, remember?

A watery smile. "Thanks."

i love you so much, i'm so proud of you

"I love you too," she mumbles back, curling her arms around the pillow. Another set of words writes itself and she leans back.

do you really think Chris hates you?

"I don't know. He…he looks at me like he can't sometimes. Or like he's waiting for me to…I don't know, turn crazy or bad or like he's waiting for me to turn into you, almost." She rubs her fingers over the pillowcase. "He used to be nicer."

have you spoken since?

She doesn't need to ask what he's talking about. "No. He's been out of town again. He's supposed to be back, um…"

She leans over to check her phone, eyes widening when she sees the date.

"Uh, today. Shit, I actually think we're supposed to have a training thing today."

Before more words can write themselves, there's a knock on her door. She freezes, phone still in her hand, pillow clutched close.

"Rose?" Fuck. "It's Chris. Can I come in?"

be brave, says the last flutter of words before her dad vanishes, i love you

"…yeah."

Chris opens the door. Rose tugs on her dad's jacket over her pajamas and clutches the pillow in her lap. She doesn't look at him. He moves around a little in the doorway before he shuts it with a click. After a moment, the bed dips and groans under his weight and she sneaks a glance at his arm. Her bite mark is still there.

"Surprised they let you walk around before that healed."

"You didn't even break the skin."

It's probably meant to come off in a way that means she doesn't have to worry about it, but it stings anyway. She turns away again.

A car drives by outside.

"I owe you an apology," Chris says finally, his voice low and gruff, "I shouldn't have been so harsh. I'm sorry."

She doesn't reply, but she shifts to face the window instead of the wall.

"There's been talk of getting you moved to another squad," he continues, and her stomach drops—is Chris leaving too?— "and I thought…if I could prove that you were good with us, that we had it all under control, then they'd drop it. Leave you alone."

At the rustle as he shifts, she glances over at him. His jaw works and his hand twitches on his knee.

"I thought…" He trails off, then scoffs at himself, shaking his head. "I don't know what I thought."

He turns to meet her gaze and her gut clenches at the obvious guilt and remorse she can see there. She swallows.

"You were mean." Her voice comes out a lot smaller than she'd hoped. She swallows and tries again. "I thought you hated me."

"I don't hate you, Rose," he says in a rush, turning to face her, "please don't think that."

"So you're not trying to get rid of me?"

"Shit, Rose, no, I'm not trying to get rid of you. You're—I think Mia'd kill me if I tried, no, I'm just—" he takes a breath— "I'm just trying to keep you safe, okay?"

"Then you should've said something! I would've trained harder if I knew—we could've—I would've done something else, did I do something wrong?"

"No," he insists, shaking his head, "no, you didn't do anything wrong."

Relief begins to pool warily in her chest. Her grip on the pillow loosens and she scoots a little closer. "I'm sorry I bit you."

He shakes his head again. "It's fine. You, uh, you have good bite strength."

"Good bite strength?"

"Yeah. Your contact's really good." He gestures to the bite mark on his arm. "Got all of them in there too."

"Thanks," she says, laughing a little. Chris smiles and it's a bit easier to breathe. She gives herself a shake. "So, what's today? Weapons, sparring, how to punch boulders?"

"Actually, I, uh, thought we'd go get ice cream."

Rose pauses, looking up at him, blinking as if she'd heard wrong. "Ice cream?"

"Weather's gonna get cold soon, the good place around the corner's gonna close." He shrugs. "Been craving it."

"Yeah…yeah, ice cream sounds good."

"Great."

And before she can think too much of it, she throws herself at him and hugs him for all she's worth. She feels him stutter, not quite sure what to do, and then his arms slowly wrap around her, holding her just as tightly. And oh, she's on fire, Chris is big and warm and solid and he's holding her like she's something special and she's gonna fucking cry her eyes out if she stays here a moment longer and she's gonna die if she lets go. Chris lets out a noise of dismay when she sniffles and scoops her up, like she's a little kid again, holding her in his lap and now she's making a mess of his shoulder too.

She could swear she feels Dad smile.

***

+1.

"I'm telling you," Rose says as she lounges on her bed, "you're wrong about the cover. It's actually pretty good."

i like the classics

"Yeah, well, you're old and boring, so that makes sense."

:(

The sight of the old-fashioned emoticon frowny face makes her burst out laughing. "Oh my god, that's so lame. I don't think I've seen someone use that in years."

it's a classic!

"You gotta get with the times!"

totes dope fam

Rose winces at the immense amount of psychic damage those three words dealt, her neck protesting as she almost cringes it out of alignment. "No, D—Michael, just no."

lol

She tosses the pillow playfully at the wall again, laughing when another frowny face appears on both it and the wall. "Aww, okay, I'm sorry, here."

She picks it up and cuddles it and the frowny face turns to a smiley face. Lying back down, grin still on her face, she toys with his ring. It's gotten shinier from all the rubbing, except where she ties the cord around it so she can wear it as a necklace. She turns it this way and that, watching the sunlight glint off of it. As she does, she catches sight of the engraving on the inside.

Always and forever.

"Do you want me to tell Mom and Chris about you?"

The words swirl for a moment.

up to you

She pushes herself to sit up, propped on one elbow. The ring glistens as she slides it back onto her finger, turning it to and fro. "I don't know. It feels bad keeping something like this from them, but I want to be selfish about it too, you know? I kind of like having you all to myself."

it's not selfish

"And what if Chris thinks it's bad?" She twists the ring harder. "What if he tries to take you away from me?"

i won't let that happen

Her shoulders drop a little and she picks up the pillow again, cuddling into it. A few words write themselves across it just so she can feel their warmth and she rubs her cheek against it. "Don't you miss them?"

all the time

A melancholy that isn't hers hangs in her chest and she squeezes the pillow again. "Then should I? They miss you too, you know. I think they'd be happy to, you know, hear from you again."

The words fade and the wall glows again as he thinks. She lets him have his time, rubbing the ring back and forth, listening to the slight rattle it makes as it spins around her too-small finger. When she hears the familiar soft scratch again, she looks up.

they're happy now, i don't want to ruin that

"They're not happy," she can't help but say, "they still miss you."

content, then

"You wouldn't be ruining anything," she argues, "I thought—I thought I'd never get to see you again after I got out of there. The day I heard you again? That was the happiest moment of my life."

mine too sweetie, or my un-life i guess

The words glow brighter as her fingertips glow too. She gets up and lays her hand against the wall, smiling as their powers dance together. "I really think they'd be happy."

A pulse of warmth runs up her arm to her chest as the words shift once more.

when you think the time is right

"I'll tell you, I promise."

i'm so proud of you, Rose, i love you so much

"I love you too."

That time doesn't come on their terms, though, because that would be easy. No, instead it's when she and Chris are over at Mom's house for dinner and Chris asks a question out of nowhere that almost makes her spit all over the table.

"What?" Mom asks as Rose glares a hole in Chris's stupid forehead.

"I said," Chris says like an unrepentant asshole, "who's Michael?"

"Michael?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rose mutters, staring down at her lap.

"I was coming to get you for training last week and you were talking to someone called Michael." Chris takes a bite of steak and talks with his mouth full, like an asshole. "So who is he?"

Mom elbows her, winking. "Someone you like?"

"What? Ew, gross, no!"

Chris and Mom just laugh and Mom elbows her again. "Don't worry, I was your age once too. That's how I reacted when my mom asked me about my crush."

"Michael isn't my crush!"

"Boyfriend, then?"

"No, he's not my—" she covers her face and sighs. "He's not my boyfriend, he's not my crush, he's not someone from school, happy?"

"So who is he?"

Well, fuck it, no time like the present. She pushes back from the table, muttering about using the bathroom. They wait until she's halfway up the stairs to start talking again, their voices low in that way where she knows they're still talking about her, but she pays them no mind as she goes into the bathroom and shuts the door. She braces her hands on either side of the sink and takes a deep breath.

"I'm guessing you heard all that."

The words swirl up right below the mirror.

yeah

"I mean, it's not like we'll get a better opportunity."

probably not

"Are you ready?"

are you?

She rubs at the chip in the linoleum and turns on the cold water, just to make sure there's no milky sweat on her hands. "I'm nervous."

me too

"No matter what happens," she says firmly, "no matter what they do or say, I'm here for you, okay? I've got your back. I love you."

i'm so proud of you, sweetie, i love you too

The words glow cheerfully against the weird tile pattern and she reaches out to touch them. They share a moment before the words fade and she takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders in the mirror and nodding to herself. "Right. Let's do this."

She marches back downstairs and Mom and Chris do a horrible job of pretending not to be nosy and expectant. She sits back down and folds her hands in her lap.

"I'll tell you who Michael is," she begins, "but you have to promise not to tell anyone else."

"I promise, honey," Mom says, miming zipping her lips shut.

"Chris, you promise too."

Chris looks at her for a moment like he's going to disagree, then he winces as Mom kicks him under the table. "I promise too."

"Good." She takes another breath and reaches for the ring around her neck. The second she brings it out from under her shirt, Chris's silverware clatters against the plate and Mom inhales sharply.

"Rose," she says shakily, "where did you get that?"

"Before I said yes to joining you," Rose says, "I met K outside the lab. He told me there might be a way to get rid of my powers for good."

Chris frowns. "K never said anything like that to me, what do you—"

"I'm getting there. He took me to the lab where there was a piece of the Megamycete, and said that—"

"He what?"

"Will you both just listen to me?" The two of them quiet down. "Thank you. So, like I was saying, he took me to see the piece of it and said that there was a purifying crystal that Miranda discovered that could take the mold out of someone. All I had to do was look through the Megamycete's index of consciousness to see if I could find it."

"That's incredibly dangerous, Rose," Mom says quietly, and Chris looks like he's trying to strangle his fork. "Please tell me you didn't—"

"I wanted them gone," she interrupts, looking at her Mom, "they were—I was just a freak with no friends. Someone offered me the chance to be normal, are you telling me you wouldn't have done the same thing if you were a teenager?"

Mom looks at her for a long moment, but she doesn't disagree. Rose squeezes the ring and keeps going.

"It wasn't that easy, obviously. It was…really hard. And really scary. I had to fight my way through these, like, twisted versions of the places in Miranda's village, like that big castle and the creepy doll house, and there were all these versions of me that kept getting killed and tortured, I fought a version of Eveline too—"

"Rose," Chris tries to say but she doesn't let him.

"—but I had help," she continues. "There was something helping me. It helped me figure out where to go, what to do, gave me a gun and taught me how to use it. There were these glowing words that would appear when I needed them most and it…it was like having a guardian angel."

"Michael," Chris says, and she nods.

"Yeah, I called him Michael. He—he kept trying to get me to leave, said that it wasn't safe, but I wanted to find the crystal and so he helped me. And then we found out K wasn't actually K and it was all a trap set by Miranda—"

"It was what?"

Chris is already getting up. "Is she still in there? Do we need to—"

"Sit down, Chris, it's fine, we beat her. She's dead now, like, really, actually dead. She crystalized and turned to dust, I saw it."

His face still looks like he ate a lemon, but Chris sits slowly back down. He exchanges a worried look with Mom and she puts her hand on Rose's shoulder. "You said 'we?'"

"Me and Michael." She looks down at the ring and turns it over in her hand. "Until I found out who he really was."

Mom gasps, a small and shuddery thing. She holds her hand over her mouth and stares at Rose. "Ethan."

Chris makes a noise too as Rose nods. "Yeah. It was him the whole time. He…he protected me. From Miranda, from Eveline, from everything."

"He loved you so much, honey," Mom whispers, her eyes growing wet, "he never stopped loving you."

"He showed me our house in Romania," and to her horror, she can feel her voice growing thick too, "with all his memories. I heard his voice, Mom, he—he wrote me a letter, did you know?"

"Yes," Mom says, trying not to sob, clutching her shoulder, "yeah, honey, I know. He cried so much while he was writing it, he wanted you to get old enough to read it with him, oh, Rose…"

She swipes a hand under her nose and turns to Chris, who's doing that big, tough, I'm-too-manly-for-my-emotions-right-now thing and reaches for him too. After a moment, his hand turns and covers hers. He's trembling. "He taught me how to fight, Chris. We—we fought together. He shot the monsters in the face with a shotgun and gave me his power so I could kill Miranda, once and for all."

Chris swallows heavily. "Your dad was…he was one of the best men I've ever known, Rosie. He would be so proud of you." He sniffs. "You said he shot them in the face with a shotgun?"

"Mhm."

"Yeah, that sounds like Ethan, alright." Mom laughs and it sort of sounds like a sob but she and Chris are smiling now, so it's okay. Chris looks back at her and nods a few times. "So you were talking to him, then?"

"Yeah. When you walked by on Tuesday, I think it was…yeah, we were arguing about whether the original Blade Runner was better than 2049." She wrinkles her nose. "He said the original was better but I like the remake."

Chris frowns. "What do you mean, he said—"

The words scrawl over Mom's dining table, illuminating their faces.

i like the classics, that's all

Rose would laugh at the way Chris almost falls out of his chair if his hand and Mom's weren't trembling. She looks at Mom, who stares at the glowing words, and at Chris, who looks like he's about to be sick.

Mom breaks the silence first. "…Ethan?"

The words move, now right next to her forgotten plate.

hi honey

"You're—you're—"

bad at staying dead?

Mom's breath leaves her like she's been punched in the gut. "Oh, Ethan, I—I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry—"

breathe, it's okay

She squeezes Mom's hand as she takes a few shaky breaths. "What—how is this possible?"

rose

"We're both part of the mold," Rose says when Mom looks to her, "he's…he's using my part right now, we're sort of sharing it."

told her i'm not a scientist, figured you'd get it :)

"No one uses those anymore," Mom mumbles and Rose whispers a quiet told you so! as the smiley turns to a frowny for a moment, before the words change again.

i know it's been hard, i'll always love you

"Oh, Ethan," Mom whispers, reaching out to touch the words. She gasps as a flicker of warmth pulses through them and Rose squeezes her hand again. "I miss you."

i miss you too

Another glow flickers up next to Chris, who startles and stares down at the words in shock.

you too

"E-Ethan, I—" he cuts himself off as the words swirl again.

thank you for taking care of my daughter

Chris swallows heavily. "She's incredible, Ethan. You should be proud of her."

always am

"I'm sorry," Chris whispers, and something in Rose's gut clenches at how close to tears he looks too, "if I'd been faster, we could've gotten you out of there, we could've…"

it's okay, Chris, we're all okay

"You're dead."

i died in 2017, doing pretty well considering

"He is really bad at staying dead," Rose adds, "Miranda said so too. You should've seen her, she was so mad at us."

Chris looks like he's having a hard time deciding whether he wants to laugh or cry. The sparkles swirl again.

she's a fighter, she gets that from you too

His free hand jerks and Rose squeezes the one in hers. "You can touch, Chris, he won't bite. That's my thing."

it won't hurt, promise

Chris takes a deep breath and slowly touches the words. His breath leaves him in a rush as they glow warmly under his fingers. Rose smiles as she feels the mold connect all of them there, in that moment, through her and Ethan. Some part of her clicks into place. As if he can feel it too, which he probably can, another set of words appears in front of her.

we're so proud of you, Rosie

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbles as she feels heat rush to her cheeks, "shut up."

no :)

Mom laughs. "We finally have all three of us together again and you want us to not tell you how proud we are of you?"

"They've got a point, Rosie."

"I'll break your nose!"

"No, no," Mom says as Chris squawks, even though she's still smiling, "no breaking Chris's nose."

even if he deserves it

"Hey!"

As they all laugh together, Ethan's words still glowing in the warm, quiet house, Rose sits back in her chair and twists her dad's ring around her finger. Sure, being a mold bioweapon teenager was weird, but if this is the family she gets to have because of it, it can't be all bad.

[riveriafalll]

Writeblr introduction I guess?

Guess what bitches (affectionate) I’ve been here for like six months and I’m finally making a writeblr introduction. I have just vibed within the community for all this time, and I reckon it’s time to actually confirm my existence as an actual writer.

A bit about me: you can call me River, I mainly write fanfiction for quite a few fandoms, I’m a full time student, I use all pronouns (agender bitches for the win) and autistic currently seeking diagnosis.(in this economy? I know, right?)

I’m open for all tag games and asks (please include me, I promise I won’t procrastinate on the tag game until it’s three weeks later and it’s too awkward to post it then)

Here is my master list of wips, categorised by fandom. The majority of these are not being regularly written in, but they all will one day find a home on the archive I promise.

I will link them up to their respective WIP introduction pages as they happen, if you want to hear about one sooner, let me know <3

Harry Potter

No Time to Die: Drarry au where I kill off Draco in the first scene, have many clever plot-fixes and throw in as much LGBTQ rep as I can

Aelia Lovegood - Luna Lovegood has a pyromaniacal twin who is trying to fix racism by punching Nazi children in the face. It’s mostly working

Oh dear it’s a time loop fic - Draco and Hermione are trapped in a time loop, what will they do? (Troll everyone for basically eternity, and try not to go mad)

The fic where Harry is a sociopath, and goes full homicidal mode on Voldemort along with a scary Hermione and a power-hungry Ron - eh the title explains it well enough

when stars collide (a black hole forms) - a person from our world falls into the HP universe, and immediately tries to mother hen her family out of being evil. Callidora is the twin sister of Bellatrix, and spends the next thirty or so years attempting to fix everyone through the power of love. It works most of the time.

Harry Potter and the job he should have gotten - thirteen years after the end of the War, Minerva McGonagall has a staffing crisis and breaks into people’s homes until they agree to teach. Harry/Theo Knott, Hermione/Pansy and Draco girlbossing it by himself while figuring out how to be a single father.

Marvel

Of Godparents and Aunt-sassins - Jokingly, a couple name the godparent of their new child as Loki. No one expects him to except. Ava is a menace, Loki is a gender fluid icon, a wonderful brother and a terrible influence, Natasha is the vodka aunt, Clint is the fun uncle, Cooper Barton is the responsible one, Peter is a tiny adorable baby who gets adopted, and the Avengers live the 2012 Tower life

SHIELD: An Unofficial Guide - based off the SHIELD survival tips blog here on tumblr, written up in a guide-book form, complete with neatly organised chapters and unique anecdotes

A Glitch in the System - Glitch, a winter-widow and the last remanent of HYDRA, is sent to assassinate the Avengers. When she fails, she runs away and meets a certain spider-child on a rooftop. Featuring a teenage Loki, an amnesiac Pietro and a certain blonde widow, who’ve all moved into May Parker’s apartment, and a lot of miscommunication between just about everyone

Loki doki timey wimey - set during Thor:Ragnorok, Tony and co notice that Loki has reappeared on Midgard, and promptly break into Doctor Stranges house to question him. Dr S promptly gets very annoyed by Tony and Lokis inability to get on, and sends them away to the magical equivalent of a get along shirt, which goes wrong and leaves Tony and Loki stranded in a time loop. They’re under the impression that the loop will break when they learn to get along, Dr Strange is doing nothing to disillusion them of that.

(This is the image that my beta once_and_future_fandoms made when I ranted about it to them)

Another life - something I started before the Loki show came out (take that Marvel), starts at the beginning of Infinity War, when a female Loki dies at the hands of Thanos, meets the personification of the universe, merges with the Tesseract, leaving her with a shapeshifting familiar and teleporting powers. She then travels briefly through the multiverse and lands in the OG Marvel universe, with a Tom Hiddleston themed Loki and attempts to fix stuff through the power of having a giant snake and knives.

Bucky and the time he lived in the woods with his murder daughters - Bucky escapes from HYDRA in the 90s with Natasha and Yelena. They live in the mountains of Romania together, learning how to be actual real life people and incidentally becoming cryptida along the way. Natasha and Yelena join SHIELD in their early twenties, and continue happily along their way in the canon plot, until their father James comes to visit the Avengers Tower after the Battle of New York, and bumps into a familiar blonde…

Supernatural

Woahhhh it’s Emmy - Emmy, (long for MJ, short for Mary Junior), is the standard extra Winchester OC, twin sister of Sam, who is almost as bad at talking through her problems as Dean is. While Sam went to Smamford, and Dean ran around with John, Emmy started a weapons dealing company for hunters, travelling around under the guise of an occult shop. She reluctantly joins back up with her brothers in season 1, just to make sure her dumbasses don’t get themselves killed. She solves half of the shows problems with a glock.

Doctor Who

Who the fuck is Sally Sparrow? - Kat Sparrow has grown up knowing that things live in the darkness. The Sparrows are known by all the intelligence agency’s of the world, for their abilities to find and trap those things. Their specialty? Angels. When River Song appears on her doorstep one night, telling her that she has an angel to catch, Kat does the only thing she can, and joins the Doctor, River and Amy in the TARDIS to catch it. Kat thinks it’s fantastic, Amy enjoys having a friend whos roughly her age, and River is cryptic as ever. The Doctor, however, would really like to know how the hell a human girl is capable of subduing the most deadly creature in the universe.

Redo of Sally Sparrow except there’s no Sally Sparrow and a completely different plot line - When River tumbles into the TARDIS at the start of the infamous Maze of the Angels episode, she brings someone else with her - her adopted daughter, Astra. Unknown to 11, Astra is his child from the future, the result of a coupling between 12 and Missy, who was partially raised by both of them and the other half by River. Featuring: Astra is briefly evil and genocidial, Astra gets therapy with 14 and Donna, Astra flirts constantly with half of his companions, River, Missy and 13 all walk into a bar, and the combination of lesbianism causes a rift in time and space, and someone really needs to stop 12 from naming people after his past companions.

The Vampire Diaries

TVDeeznuts - Cassie Gilbert, twin sister of Jeremy, heads off to an out of state boarding school after being compelled by Damon in an attempt to protect the first person to have trusted him unconditionally in the last hundred and fifty years. Yes, he might have been a crow for half of it, but the thought is what counts, right? Unfortunately, being the danger magnet she is, Cassie immediately manages to befriend a local artist by the name of Nik Mikaelson. Three kidnappings later, Cassie is the first honorary Mikaelson since Marcel. Let’s just hope it doesn’t go quite as bad as his did.

Shadow hunters

Making my OCs be adopted by a bunch of vampires has nothing to do with my parental issues I promise - Autumn, a rather shy twelve year old, is Turned into a vampire rather unexpectedly by a less than stable Maureen who wants to be best friends forever. She immediately attaches herself to Raphael, who is horrified, but ultimately decides that he can use the situation to gaslight Magnus into believing that she’s always been around. Autumn has no objections, Lily thinks it hilarious, and Elliot is just happy to have a little sister.

Shadow hunting my multiple mental illnesses - Astoria Fray is perfectly normal. She does her homework, eats far too many chips, and goes out to parties with her best friends Lily, Elliot and Raphael. And then her mom gets kidnapped, her sister goes missing, her uncle won’t talk to her, and a very sparkly man tells her that he’s a friend of her mothers and that she can stay at his place. And as if that wasn’t enough, turns out that she’s not human, her dad is shadow hunter Hitler, and vampires, werewolf’s and warlocks are real.

At least Lily and Raphael are still normal. Right?

we'll never get free (lamb to the slaughter) - Magnus Bane is forced to baby-sit a precocious, morally-grey Warlock child. It goes about as well as you'd imagine.

Fourth Wing

Fourth wing more like fortieth wip - Elyrion Melgren (currently going under the name Elyrion Foxe) lived in Tyrrendor for the first fourteen years of her life, while her father led the armies of Navarre, spending her days exploring the city with her best friend Xaden. Six years later, she hasn’t seen Xaden since the apostasy, and has been forbidden by her father to go into the Riders, as he doesn’t want her to interact with the Marked Ones. Elyrion promptly ignores his orders, crosses Parapet, and joins the revolution.

Throne of Glass

Cadre Coparenting - what could go wrong? -Two years after Aelin Galathynius was born, her sister, Aurelia arrived. Born with powers of darkness and death, Evalin and Rhoe have no choice but to send her to the only person with experience in controlling powers like hers - her Aunt, Maeve. Maeve promptly passes the child off to her loyal bloodsworn until she’s old enough to be useful to her. Between the six of them, the Cadre just about manage to raise a singular child, despite Aurelia's best attempts to be difficult. It’s entirely her fault that half of Doranelle now believes that Lorcan and Rowan are divorced, and co-parenting their daughter together with Gavriel and Vaughan, their new partners, and Fenrys and Connall, her brothers.

Twilight

Twi-mental breakdown-light - Twilight if Bella had a precocious ten year old sister, and Edward and Bella raise her in aroace solidarity. Esme is delighted that she finally gets a grandchild, and Emmett is not responsible enough to baby sit.

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

violently smashing my two major fandoms with an F together as a form of procrastination

A question for the ages: WHICH Avatar character matches up with WHICH Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle one and WHY the fuck should anyone (besides me) care? We'll answer at least one of those questions for you tonight, dear viewers!!!!

First up

Neteyam - Leo

Eldest son, blue theme (like I could say this for all the Sullys, but shush), can do no wrong except when one of the siblings stubs a toe and then the Guilt, daddy's favorite solider who's also a huge dork (like we don't see a lot of evidence of this in canon for Neteyam but let me have this), Neteyam's Untimely End vs Leo getting treated as such a punching bag by each TMNT iteration that throwing him through a goddamn window is an established franchise staple by now.

Kiri - Donnie

A case can be made for April-Kiri parallels (particularly for psychic powers re 2012 April, my beloved, and dead mom syndrome) and also Karai-Kiri (for dead mom syndrome, how often I've mixed up their fucking names while writing), but Kiri-Donnie fits the siblings theme, so there. They're tech nerd-nature nerd solidarity, autistic Entities of unparalleled death and destruction, happy to destroy government property, younger siblings pretending to be above the Chaos while very much not, and in desperate need of a nap and a stiff drink.

Lo'ak - Raph

Rage issues. Daddy issues. Big brother issues. Relatively smol and Keenly aware of that fact. Adored by the (smart) fans, cursed by Eywa/God. Makes strong bonds with animal fwends and also collects traumatic experiences like magnets collect nails. 100% either in a fistfight or sobbing into his pillow rn. In a family living at the bottom of a fucking sewer and/or on the run from the government, still manages to feel like an odd one out. Someone needs to introduce Lo'ak to emo music, it would fuck him up so much /pos.

Tuk - Mikey

Youngest and most excitable sibling, heart of gold and jaws of steel. Optimism that remains in the face of innocence slowly being shaved away by Events. Hates being left out or left behind, committed to various Schemes and Plans with historically mixed outcomes. Has definitely either killed a man or will do so as soon as the opportunity presents itself.

Spider - Karai and April

Spider's kind of an unholy amalgamation of April's Token Human We've Shared Traumatic Experiences With journey and Karai's At Odds With Creepy Undead Father Figure And Complex Relationship With Less Creepy Father Figure (see below) arcs. Basically part of my ongoing psyops plans to Feminize That Boy (don't worry Karai-Kiri and April-Kiri parallels, I still love you). Also, Leorai/Apritello and Speteyam/Spiri (mix and match at will) have exciting interspecies and/or vaguely incestous vibes we should all strive for in our weird fanfics.

Jake - Splinter/Hamato Yoshi

Tired dads trying their best and just so happening to raise The Kids as soldiers-warriors along the way. Exciting and confusing relationships with the concept of this thing you call "death." Shameless species hoppers, even though Jake did it on purpose while TMNT writers in various iterations have to come up with increasingly more convoluted ways for it to happen to Yoshi against his will. Is not afraid of violence, especially when it comes to their homoerotically homicidal relationship with

Quaritch - Shredder

Big Bad of the story, or at least the one everybody pays attention to. The Bitch Who Refuses To Die. Unhealthy, possessive, genuinely quite creepy (/pos) obsession with sort-of-kid who ended up in his care through Unfortunate Means. Will destroy everything he remotely cares about and sit in the ashes with surprised Pichaku face before finding someone to blame. Refuses to let go of a fucking grudge, be it with aforementioned homoerotic-homicide buddy or various children.

Neytiri

Technically the best Neytiri parallel in terms of family relationships would be Tang Shen, Splinter's wife and the pseudo/actual (depending on the iteration) mother of his children. However, Tang Shen has an unfortunate history of being Dead Girled and Ghost-Momed in a way that puts her more in common with Grace or Tom Sully (rip). Still, Neytiri has a lot in common with the vengeful demon ghost version of Tang Shen that exists primarily in my head.

BONUS

Payakan - Casey Jones

Outcast from society, defender of the weak, wanted by the authorities. Combines genuinely passionate belief in justice/revenge with an equally genuine talent for wanton violence and destruction. Has an interspecies bromance with Lo'ak/Raph that puts Achilles and Patrocles to shame. Someone definitely needs to introduce Payakan to emo music, too, not to mention death metal--he'd start a band to put those Little Mermaid fuckers to shame.

Questions? Comments? Concerns? Arguments? (you're all wrong btw) Only know me from one of these fandoms and have no idea what the hell I'm taking about? Hit me up in the reblogs!

[minorisato]

if at all possible, please spare me the pain

slashers, dead by daylight / ghostmyers / wc: 843 / warnings: explicit s-lf h-rm, s-icidal thoughts, homicide, unhealthy coping mechanisms / notes: old vent fic

Danny just has this… habit.

He’s never been diagnosed, nor does he ever want to be, but he’s pretty sure it’s something like a personality disorder. Even in his own (very biased) opinion, he can admit he’s unstable by normal-person standards, and he has an anger problem, and he doesn’t care that he has an anger problem, which actually makes it a lot worse, in a roundabout way.

When it’s bad, he’ll stab something, preferably something that can die, and he’ll throw things, and slam doors, and he’ll flail and move and move, anything just to get it out of his system. When it’s really bad, he’ll cut himself, and imagine the anger flowing out with his blood. Then, of course, when it’s really, really bad–

 “Just once. Just once, please. I need to bleed it out,” he’d say, happily on his knees in front of Michael. “I need to bleed it out, the ones I give myself aren’t enough. Please, Michael, I know you can give me one good one.”

Michael, then, with his emotions as hard to discern as ever, would give him a great one. Danny would routinely wake up an hour or so later, new wound scarred over, hurting like hell. Then he’d lock himself into one of the many rooms of the Myers’ house and cry until he couldn’t anymore. This process could range from anywhere between fifteen minutes and two hours. Then he’d come out, smug and haughty, and pretend none of it ever happened in the first place.

Michael, of course, was a self-motivated man. Danny was too, so it’s not like he blamed the larger. Having an infinite amount of Danny’s to kill repeatedly– all while he was begging for it, he wanted it, wanted to die, like an addict– didn’t seem to bother him in any way.

Which always led Danny to question; what’s up with the crying and isolating? Both of them were getting what they wanted, but every single time, he’d end up sobbing until he puked, and then sobbing more. He was getting what he wanted, he was giving Michael what he wanted. His anger was gone, just replaced by soul-crushing sadness. Why? Why was he like this? Why did he get so overwhelmingly angry? Why did he need to die to get it all out? Why can’t he be fucking normal? Why did he even kill in the first place? Why is he so insistent on being unhappy?

He’d always ask himself these questions, curled in on himself, imagining a life where he actually could be normal– it was almost unfathomable, but the idea of a normal job, normal family, normal life, it tugged at his heartstrings. This, too, he’d beat himself up over. He chose this. He did it because it was the only thing that made him feel alive and he ran with it because it was a high like no other. He was well past the point of no return. There was no normalcy waiting for him.

Little cuts were never enough. Big cuts, stabs, too, were starting to not be enough.

Maybe if he was really nice, bargained with the Entity enough, she’d loosen her grip, and he could go, could die, for real this time–

A loud bang hit the door, and Danny jumped at the sudden noise. He didn’t answer, he couldn’t. He didn’t trust his own voice. Michael would go away eventually. After all, what did he care?

Another bang. Then another.

Danny stared, sniffling, as the door shook. Another.

Then the latch broke.

“Wait,” Danny’s throat let out, before the rest of him could catch up. Realization was very suddenly dawning on him that a wooden door would not stop a 6’7” man who’s favourite hobby is murder. “Wait, wait, wait, please don’t come in, please–”

But Michael is a self-motivated man, and he doesn’t stop when teen girls beg him, he doesn’t stop when nurses beg him, or survivors, or Danny. The shorter doesn’t have time to find where he threw his mask, doesn’t have time to cover his face at all, can’t gather himself together, as Michael Myers waits for no one.

Danny wants to yell at him, wants to curse him out, wants to demand solitude, he wasn’t done wallowing, but he doesn’t get a chance before he’s yanked backwards, yelping, pulled into Michael’s grip. Said grip is frighteningly tight, some imitation of a hug, of genuine intimacy. Danny’s still crying. He can feel his ribs bruising. He cries harder at the implication of Michael sparing him any care or thought.

Michael takes them to the floor like that, still holding Danny in that kind-of-hug. They’re cuddling. They’re cuddling, as though they’re an actual normal couple, as though Michael didn’t stab Danny through his chest less than two hours ago.

Between his sobs, Danny actually laughs. It’s awful. Everything is awful. There's something wrong with him, deeply, intrinsically, unfixable. There is no normalcy waiting for him.

He buries his face into Michael’s neck. This is close enough, for now.