#anyway i heard the fallout show was not terrible

[ellipsea]

i put all this work into getting a little network attached storage synology and setting up a plex server with automatic media detection and a qbittorrent container with built-in VPN credentials (WHICH WAS VERY HARD) and then i'll see some media that just came out on some subscription streaming service that i don't have and go huh. wish i could watch that. oh well

[bridenore]

Author rec : Oflights

Oflights is one of my favorite authors. Here are a few recs, listed in alphabetical order.

all the western stars by @oflights [78k]

Draco is a Seer who has been struck with terrible, uncontrollable visions of the deaths of everyone around him, triggered by touch. He retreats to an Unplottable Black family cottage to research his condition and fix it. Things are going relatively well until Harry Potter shows up at the cottage with a furry condition of his own.

along each garden wall by @oflights [61k]

Draco has to have a baby (or have one on the way) at the time of his fast-approaching 35th birthday, or he's going to lose his home to his vile cousin. Harry offers to help, but their complex past—even beyond Hogwarts—prompts Draco to set out on a long journey of friendship, kittens, gardens, motorbike rides, and more.

Close Behind by @oflights [134k]

To rescue Draco from the Underworld, Harry has to look forward. Unfortunately, Draco has to look back.

Cool About It by @oflights [134k]

Harry is so excited for his first date with Draco. But what follows isn't so much a date as it is an all-night odyssey including a malevolent lift, a Gringotts heist, a Sleeping Curse, a trip to the kebab shop, a lack of dancing, a Muggle drug, a rooftop pool party, a black eye and, eventually, a sunrise over a Quidditch stadium.

find a new place to be from by @oflights [47k]

Something is wrong with Malfoy Manor, and it’s driven Draco into the Muggle world. Thankfully, Harry is now on the case. A story about houses that haunt you and homes built for two.

A Hundred Visions and Revisions by @oflights [11k]

Harry doesn’t really like remembering. As he’s grown older, he’s found that discovering or creating or even making things up are all much less painful than remembering.

if the bees know by @oflights [19k]

Scorpius’ playground is haunted, Harry specializes in helping ghosts pass on, and Draco just wants his son to be safe.

Make This Leap by @oflights [118k]

Harry owns a struggling restaurant which is running out of money, and his Head Chef has just handed in notice. He's at a bit of a loss as to what to do until Narcissa Malfoy presents an obvious solution: bring in Draco Malfoy as Chef and part owner. Harry does.

On Fingers Broken Long Ago by @oflights [85k+]

After a ten year absence, Harry returns to his old life in England to find Draco Malfoy at the center of it. A tale of rekindling old flames, unlikely inter-House alliances, angry Hufflepuffs, and medical mysteries ensues. Bound to Linger by @oflights [20k+] Sequel to On Fingers Broken Long Ago; Draco is campaigning for a board seat, Harry still hates Zacharias, and a dragon pox outbreak hits the second floor staff, so nobody has time for anything. Oh, and then there's maple syrup. Tunnel by @oflights [15k+] Sequel to On Fingers Broken Long Ago; see notes and warnings for more details. A history of loss makes Draco fear the future, even the golden one he sees with Harry.

The Star Splitter by @oflights [219k]

On a routine time travel assignment to the past, Draco stumbles upon 7-year-old Harry Potter and witnesses his neglect and mistreatment by the Dursleys. In the moment, there is only one solution, even if it goes against all his training as a Time Agent: he has to bring Harry back to the future with him. In which Draco burns his life down for the sake of his former school rival.

we have heard on high by @oflights [34k]

Reeling from the fallout of a bad breakup, Harry decides to find out who his soulmate is. The bad news: it’s Draco Malfoy. The good news: Malfoy doesn’t seem to know they’re soulmates. The worst news: Harry might be falling for him anyway.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

[a-queer-seminarian]

kinda fascinating to be in a situation where I've had to call / online chat with insurance representatives during the whole UH CEO fallout. I have BCBS and maaaybe they're always this helpful but idk, they just seem so responsive and taking extra steps to help me out and it turns out the issue I'm having isn't even on their side, it's the dentist's! also their online chat is a real person??? I don't have to work around the AI before it finally transfers me??? Incredible

anyway turning this post into a psa to 1) ALWAYS check that your medical bills match what your insurance's Explanation of Benefits (EOB) reads (you do this by checking what amount your insurance says "patient owes" in the EOB and if your bill doesn't match that, your provider is overcharging you) and 2) DO NOT Get Your Dental Care At Great Expressions Holy Shit I'm Pissed

My wife and I went to the dentist in fall 2022 for the first time since the pandemic started, and the bills we both received were so high i've never gone again since then, because i don't wanna spend 500 bucks on a basic cleaning + X-rays. But my wife has continued to go twice a year cuz her teeth suck so the frequent check-up matters more for her.

And lordy, we've been naive lol. We've heard dental is expensive so we've just been resigned to the high costs; we also both have terrible executive functioning around all things financial and are woefully under-educated about how bills and insurance work — but the latest bill we got was just too damn much and I finally mustered up the spoons to figure shit out.

Aaaand it turns out that, while the dentist charged nearly one thousand dollars for her three fillings, the EOB shows we only owe $128. Buck. Wild.

So I've gone through every charge we've gotten over the years and they are all hundreds of dollars higher than the EOB. Great Expressions has been taking advantage of our ignorance and naivety to rob us for two fricking years.

If I understand what one insurance rep told me, since Great Expressions has a contract with BCBS they're supposed to charge us an in-network rate, which is far cheaper than out-of-network rates. Basically they send their proposed bill to our insurance, who send back a fraction of the money proposed as decided in the contract between them; insurance also tells the dentist the cost the dentist can then charge us.

But Great Expressions is pocketing the insurance money and then charging us the remainder of their original proposed cost instead of the contracted rate. So they're clearly aware that we are in-network, but still charging us like we're out-of-network. WTF

Anyway thank you BCBS reps who helped me figure all this out, incredible to actually have some non-AI customer service in this age lol. And everyone else please wish me luck as I make a chart of each dental bill we've gotten since 2022 versus what the EOB states — and then take it to the dental clinic in person because they are Not Helpful over the phone lemme tell you

The plan is to try to talk it out with them myself, and if I can't get them to listen to me I'm going to call an BCBS insurance rep while in the clinic with them so they can talk it over lmao. And if that doesn't get me the past years' charges back...idk if i can consult a lawyer or whatever but I'm gonna get this damn money back.

also we're going to get a new damn dentist. obviously

[beautifulpersonpeach]

What are your thoughts on hyuna seemingly announcing a relationship with someone connected with the burning sun scandal? My understanding is that, though he wasn't convicted of the worst crimes involved in burning sun, he admitted to watching some of the videos sent to him and would comment on them, but I also heard that he still performs around Korea sometimes. This is just bizarre to see from hyuna imo. (Apparently he also used to date goo hara, who was one of hyuna's friends. This isn't as yucky to me as it seems to be to some people, because I think mutual grief can be a uniting thing, and it's not unheard of for relationships to come from it even if it seems disrespectful from an outsider's perspective.)

***

When I first saw her post I had no real thoughts about it - while dating someone even tangentially involved in that nonsense is distasteful, her dating life is her business and I know neither Junhyung nor Hyuna personally - but I knew this news would inevitably lead to the next juicy bit for kpop stans to sensationalize and blow up into a scandal. There’s nothing k-pop stans love more than cancelling an idol or group. It’s a like a group project where everyone can get easy bonus participation marks on.

And sure enough, the minute someone posted her Instagram update on Twitter, it led to hundreds of thousands of tweets, blog posts, discussion topics on all platforms about how Hyuna manipulated her ‘fanbase of feminists’ and lovebombed Dawn into sabotaging his career; cynical declarations about how k-pop idols are most likely bad people (all that fame and fortune corrupts their morality) and it’s only a matter of time before they show their true colours; and Junghyun, for all his faults, has gone from someone who watched a molka video sent to him, to a rape apologist, a rapist, a convicted sex offender, a predator and so on.

It’s fine if people are disappointed she’s dating a creep, the problem is k-pop stans never really leave it at that. In HyunA’s case I’d noticed many of her stans have been upset with her for the last couple of years now, wondering the direction she’s taking post-P Nation and being mostly disappointed in her artistic output recently. And you can see it in the lacklustre response her music has gotten increasingly since then. Any sympathy she had from most of her fans evaporated when she and Dawn broke up. This business with Junhyung seems to me to be the final nail in the coffin, and a pretty good reason for people who were already falling out of love with her to finally write her off.

In reality, people do grow and it’s possible Junhyung learned something from that scandal and now is a better man. It’s possible their shared grief and history with GH bonded them over the years. It’s possible HyunA’s in a terrible place mentally right now and he’s providing healthy or unhealthy support. And it’s possible HyunA is simply a bad person who isn’t a ‘girl’s girl’, and has no qualms dating someone who still has predatory views about women. The beauty of k-pop stan logic is that it’s only the last possibility that’s assumed to be true. Coincidentally that’s also the only possibility that justifies the kind of reactions k-pop stans are prone to dishing out anyway.

A thought experiment I played with a few friends, was what the fallout would be if she announced she was dating Zico instead. Zico apparently didn’t watch any molka videos because there was no evidence he was sent any, but he knew Joonyoung and admitted to knowing about the ‘golden phone’ at the heart of the Burning Sun scandal. I wonder what the takes would be then if she made a dating announcement with Zico… but a part of me kinda already knows.

Anyway, a few of HyunA’s fansites have closed and some people on the k-side are just as upset as those on the I-side. Most other people on the k-side don’t care though. In fact, the understanding is that after Dawn and now Junhyung, it’s likely she dumps him within the year and moves on to someone else before long. Because rather than HyunA’s brand being ‘feminism’ as is wrongly assumed on the I-side, all she’s ever been consistent about is doing what she wants.

And I don’t think that’s going to change. All this backlash and outrage notwithstanding.

[breakerwhiskey]

008 - EIGHT

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey.

Transcript under the cut. For more episodes, click here.

[click]

I spent last night looking at the map of West Virginia and trying to remember where exactly that doomsday cult was supposed to be. There’s three towns that sounded sort of familiar for some reason, so that’s what I’m doing today. I got up early and I’m gonna drive to each of these towns and see what’s what.

[click]

If there are other people out there, I bet a lot of these kinds of groups have sprung up. The one Harry had heard about was panicked about nuclear war—but who isn’t, right?

[click]

It used to scare me, the idea that just a handful of people in the world could wake up one day and decide to end the world. All it would take is for one country to decide to drop a bomb and then it’d all be over. It never seemed that far-fetched either—America already did it.

[click]

When we first realized that something was different—that something had gone wrong…we’d been hiding out in this little abandoned cabin deep in the Pennsylvania wilderness. And I couldn’t hunt for shit and Harry certainly didn’t come with survival skills, so things were starting to look a little bleak. We weren’t strangers to planning outings that require a certain amount of stealth, so it was decided—we’d make our way closer to a town and scope it out for supplies. But when we got there, there was no one. It was a ghost town. We figured maybe it was an old coal town or something that had gotten abandoned when a mine closed—you see some of those types of towns out West, but we didn’t see any reason that it couldn’t happen in Pennsylvania too. So we kept going. And it was the same thing in the next three towns.

[click]

Of course we thought that nuclear war had broken out. What else could we have thought? Everyone disappears overnight, leaving their cars parked on the street, leaving the lights on—some of them, anyway. The breakout of nuclear war didn’t explain everything, but it seemed like the only possible explanation.

[click]

Except…wouldn’t we have died long ago? Wouldn’t we have gotten sick? In my driving these last two weeks, I haven’t seen any evidence of a bombing or nuclear fallout.

So who was responsible then? Who made all the people disappear? Was it like it is with nuclear war—were there only a select few who had the terrible power to make that happen?

[click]

And if that’s the case, what the hell kind of button did they push?

[click]

[hannovers]

…we watch the fallout of a vile group of hockey fans who, moved to anger, saw brown skin and failed to appreciate Kadri’s humanity enough to treat him like any other NHLer.

Kadri showed up to work, and performed to the best of his abilities — a hat trick, a four-point night, a victory, a series lead. The hockey world rightfully lauded the poise he’s shown amid an impossible situation, the resilience he was forced to find, to do what he’s expected to in circumstances far more extreme than he should ever expect to navigate.

I was reminded, in the aftermath of that strange triumph, that this is where the path diverges between the ones who’ve had this experience directed at their own skin, and the ones watching from afar. Because the next part of these conversations tends to take on a similar sound — how it was overcoming that hatred that allowed him to find greatness, how it was that vile energy that gave him the push he needed to take the next step in his ascent. How it was a terrible thing, of course, but in a way, maybe not so terrible, in what it inspired.

But don’t get it twisted — it’s nothing more than a terrible thing. This isn’t a journey Kadri needed to endure on that path to greatness. This isn’t the setup chapter to the story of how he persevered and won it all. He could’ve won it all anyways. 

He could be great, anyways. He could score goals, get wins, push teams to the brink, anyways. This is who Nazem Kadri is, in spite of the bile, not because of it.

This is about a flood of messages that didn’t mention bodychecks or collisions in the crease — they mentioned bombings, they mentioned 9/11, they mentioned the same tired slurs heard a hundred times before by everyone who’s navigated life after September 11th with brown skin. It’s about the messages taking words that could be beautiful if only we had the collective strength of character to see them that way — words like ‘immigrant,’ like ‘Muslim’ — and tainting them with bigoted venom.

This time, Kadri was able to earn a moment of triumph to tune out some of that noise. Most in that position don’t get that chance. They just get the noise, loud and unending. They just get the questions about why it is they aren’t able to show up, perform, do what’s expected of them. And most of the time, they leave. And we lose.

So, raise Kadri up for finding a way to be at his best through all this. Raise him up for the grace and dignity with which he’s handled this situation, for going as far as saying those who harassed his family don’t represent all of the St. Louis Blues’ fan base — even as those who do represent the St. Louis Blues haven’t had the decency to separate on-ice rivalries and off-ice death threats.

Raise Kadri up for all of that. But let’s stop short of hanging the glory on the hate speech, of seeing abuse as a catalyst, or winning as a satisfying enough resolution.

And above all else, let’s bury the conversation, here and now, about Nazem Kadri’s composure.

Because here, put in a position that the vast majority of those playing the game, watching the game, covering the game will never experience, he navigated that ruthless chaos better than any of us could ever hope to.

great article by sonny

[theyarebothgunshot]

this is exactly how it went down in my head.

misha: hey, everything okay? do you need me to do something?

jensen: no, lay low. we’re figuring it out.

misha: got it.

— the next day —

misha: things settled. should i say anything? draw attention? stay neutral?

jensen: you don’t have to, but if you want, tread lightly. we’ve had enough chaos.

misha: say no more.

when nobody got your back you KNOW dmitri got your back.

ANYWAYS i turned my back for TWO MINUTES and y'all went the fuck off in my inbox so, you know the drill: more under the cut

NO BUT JENSEN’S RESPONSE LMAAAAAO honestly fallout theory is so on oh my God I can’t stop-

on god they are so loud like-

Worst damage control i've ever seen. god bles.

so true bestie

I think Jensen probably just wants to be done with this petty little drama, so if he has to pretend everything between them is okay he is going to be the bigger man and lay it to rest. Whatever is going on between them he definitely doesn't want to sort that out on social media and the earlier he pretends everything is sorted out the earlier people will forget about it again.

Also it's kinda funny how J*red Tweet was like implying they had a misunderstanding but still talk to each other regularly, while Jensen went full on the we grow apart a little bit, because we were busy, let's catch back up. Makes me wonder if they actually talked or if there managers just said hey that's not good pr, let's put that to rest. Also did J*red know before yesterday that they had a falling out or did he just not realize.

- 🐌 anon

literally jensen went out of his way to say 'uhhh we never talk, worstie' god if pr management is involved then they did a bad job. also j*red still does not realise they have fallen out. jshfjdsfh

Jackles was like God bless but we ain’t talking like this worstie

good for her.gif

csdsc heeft gevraagd:

All I need now is for Misha to tweet “ is it safe to come out now?” And I’ll be complete lmfao 😂😂😂

that would have been better than what we got lmfao

I have one fear and it's Jensen being forced to add j*red to his show and his other projects because he couldn't stop whining like a baby,,, ugh i hate him

i pretend i do not see

Kinda selfish of me tbh but i don't want them to be "friends" again, Jensen sweetie run as fast as you can

co-signed

Ok Jensen's answer to Jared tweet made me feel so bad for him. Like, I can see it's damage control and public relations (obviously) but there's stuff behind it. I can't name it, but idk, I felt terrible for texas man this time, I don't think that reply was written with a "love and light energy" or even without much care. I felt some heavy vibes.

- 🌻, who is now a fortune teller and a prophet apparently

yeah i feel hella bad for him to, for having to deal with this shit. nonnie please if you ever have anything to predict, lemme know sjdfhs

You know Jensen's tweet has the energy of like kindergarten wenn an other kid started a fight with you and the kindergarten teacher wants you to forgive each other and hung it out and you really don't want to, but your kindergarten teacher is being annoying and he isn't worth the annoyance either.

- 🐌 anon

you are not wrong

Incredibly thankful that I have the day off from work 😂 I'm with hatching chick anon, the 3 dots read as passive aggressive/insincere to me, and I love it! I haven't spent this many hours on tumblr since I first discovered cockles! (On a side note, the lack of fimmf posts today has me feeling like it's not friday lol) -🐢

i, too, miss fimmf but alas things happen, they do they do they do

I was right. :(

It got almost romantic...

👀

nonnie you know i love you but this is really not the case, like, at all??? idk how you could look at those tweets and think it was almost romantic. it was THEE most scripted, pr bullshit ever. it was staged and fake. idk what else to tell ya

Danneel liked Jensen's tweet

i saw

That is so so awkward I feel so sorry for all of us being exposed to this and so happy I chose to leave the Internet for half a day - tea anon

god bless your stance on that cause i would have hated missing out on this lmao

You know what? I think it’s okay being a 38 year old moron if you’re bringing us this type of content

im happy with the food but still think its not okay tbh

pspspsps Misha this is the perfect day for you to drop the gay Cas essay pspspspsp it is still pride month pspspsps

you know you want to king pspsps

So that JIB6 link (I think it was from your post, right?). I went and watched that bit, and a little more.

Jensen makes a comment about Jared being first on the call sheet because Sam was supposed to be the main focal character.

And that him nor Misha cared about what number they were, so in all that time it never changed.

And I’ll be… if that just doesn’t perfectly sum them up and their feelings on things. And how a certain someone can be petty… 🦚

idk if it was from my post? but maybe? my analysis probably? but yeah things are making more and more sense huh

Ohh that's also an alien? Welcome to the extraterrestial family then, purple alien anon!

Also it's probably because I'm coming off the high this drama gave me but I'm not looking forward to them trying so hard to convince us everything is normal between them. Even though we now Know, they will have to keep pretending. Today (yesterday?) was a shitshow but some masks fell off, at least for a moment and I kinda wish Jensen was less professional 😂

👽

oh for real, fallout theory IS confirmed and nothing they said today will change my mind, it only made me believe in it even more lmfao and with that in mind i am just gonna sip my tea if they try to be buddy buddy on main again

I THINK MISHA UNRETWEETED BUT HE TWEETED "LOVE AND MISS YOU BOTH" I'M LOSING MY DIGNITY HERE - tea anon

yeah he now answered them sjdfhsjfhsf instead of rt

MISHA COLLINS IS A KING I STAN THE RIGHT MAN

YOU SURE DO

I just know Misha’s process was oh crap I have to let people know I’m supporting them and I can’t choose sides. Ok. Retweet. NO. Delete. I love both of you. Yes, good.

sjdfsdfh this makes me think of that post that dissected jackles' birthday post for misha where he used the heart. 'call him bro, that makes it less obvious. nailed it.'

Lol I'm off for a few days and come back to total chaos... God I missed it here

Like the "et tu... #bravo" tweet? Made my day! Frikking hilarious (every time I see it I picture J*red with a pissy frech accent saying it out loud lol) it's just such an incredibly petty hissy fit he threw (I know he tweeted more later on but... Really all that stuff coming afterwards just sounds like damage control)

Missed you Rose

-🐻

LOVE the french accent detail im gonna do this too sdjfhsjfh missed you toooo!!!!

Oh man Misha is really gonna get hate for that I KNOW IT

sigh well. nothing he isnt used to by now, unfortunately

i mean i believe they feel like brothers, but constantly falling back on the “brother” thing to keep up appearances is really starting to feel like “#spnfamily” at this point.

honestly brothers can be very annoying, or so i have heard, so it fits with the fallout theory lmao

They actually said if we’re gonna make this gay we cannot have Jar*d Pad*lecki involved

oh my God this is the funniest timeline to ever exist God bless I’m just waiting to canon bi Mary

king shit tbh

[goldentournesol]

All That Matters

*gif originally posted by @heat-waveee​ *

(Spencer Reid x Reader)

The one where Reader doesn’t visit Spencer in prison.

Length: 3.0k

A/N: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SEASON 12 FINALE AND BEGINNING OF SEASON 13! 

Part 2: Here For You

masterlist

Spencer’s absence was felt in every aspect of her life.The bullpen wasn’t the same without him, her apartment, although they lived separately, wasn’t the same without him, even the jet wasn’t the same. She was so used to looking over and seeing his tall frame sprawled over that beige couch that she found herself glancing over out of habit just to find someone else there. It was just as disappointing every time. Her heart ached for him. It ached because she knew that there was nothing more she could do to help him or ease the pain he felt as he was being tortured in prison and it took a huge toll on her mental health. Everyone else had visited him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“Hey, Spence.” JJ said tearfully as soon as he took a seat across from her in the visitation room.

“Hey, is everything okay? It’s not my mom, is it?” He hurriedly asked with slight panic.

“No, no, she’s fine. Y/N and I saw her yesterday, she asked about you.” She nodded, smiling in an attempt to reassure him. He mirrored her expression with relief when she told him his mother thought he was at the beach. A short silence ensued.

“How are you doing?” JJ asked, as sympathetically as possible. Spencer fought back tears.

“I’m okay. I’m, uh, really happy to see you.” He admitted, even though he knew it probably wasn’t a good idea she was visiting. However, she reminded him of the promise she made him the last time she saw him. She promised she’d never leave him alone.

“How’s…” he paused with a swallow, “Y/N doing?” The question came out tentatively, his facial expression displaying something between a grimace and a hopeful look. The last time he’d seen Y/N in the courtroom, she was in a silent fit of tears.

“She’s...fine.” JJ lied. Spencer raised his eyebrows questioningly. It didn’t take a profiler to know that that was a straight up lie. “Alright, she’s not doing very well. I just didn’t want to tell you that because I knew you would worry about it and I don’t think you need any more of that.” She gestured around. Spencer heaved a sigh. He expected her response, he just didn’t want to hear it. 

Later that day, JJ found Y/N at her desk, nose deep in a file. Her eyes were frantic as they raced through the words on the page, hoping to find something useful. She had thrown herself into the case files, the Spencer-related and the non-Spencer-related. When she wasn’t occupied with the work, her mind would wander over to Spencer, which would send her into a whirlwind of panic, guilt, and rage. 

Panic because she didn’t want to imagine what he was going through, alone, scared, hopeless--. 

Guilt because she hadn’t visited him yet, she just couldn’t bring herself to see him. Not when she couldn’t wrap her arms around him, not when she couldn’t kiss him, or hold his hand. 

Rage because time was moving so slowly without him and they weren’t any closer to getting him out.

She hadn’t heard JJ come up from behind her and rest a hand on her shoulder. She yelped out in response, having been totally focused on the file.

“Woah, sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” JJ said as she was met with Y/N’s red rimmed eyes.

“It’s alright.” Y/N muttered softly.

“Y/N, when was the last time you took a break? Or got some sleep?” JJ asked, noticing the constant nervous tapping on her thigh.

“A break? I can’t--I can’t take a break, JJ!” She uncharacteristically snapped, standing from her seat. JJ took a step back at her sudden outburst, her friend’s eyes aflame. 

“How am I supposed to take a break when he’s in there, probably terrified out of his mind?! How do you think he would feel if he knew I was sipping on some tea or...or styling my hair instead of helping him get out of there?” She spat, not even caring that she was gaining attention from people around her. She didn’t know that this was the guilt taking over and speaking for her, but JJ knew.

“He asked about you today...again.” She stated coolly, seeing Y/N’s angry expression soften immediately. She averted her gaze quickly, heart wrenching in her chest. She grabbed some files and made a move to leave, probably to shed some self-wallowing tears, but JJ stopped her by grabbing her arm gently.

“We’re going to get him out of there, I promise. But we need you on board with us. I suggest you go home and get some rest. This won’t be solved overnight.” JJ assured her with a determined voice. Y/N pulled her arm out of her friend’s grip and made a beeline for the exit.

It’s not like she didn’t want to see him, of course she wanted to see him. She wanted to see him more than anything, but she wouldn’t stop. She wouldn’t rest until she caught the son of bitch who put him in there. Spencer wanted nothing more than to see her face and hear her voice.

 At first, he genuinely couldn’t blame her for not wanting to visit, but as matters outside the prison began to worsen, the matters inside were on another level. Then, hope began to elude him. He stopped hoping to see her, stopped hoping for a future. Spencer struggled to see his future as anything other than void and bleak as the four walls of his cell consumed him every night. He tried to file away any resentment he felt for her, he even stopped asking JJ about her. Whether or not she chose to share anything about his girlfriend was completely her choice. It had become too painful for him to think about her, let alone talk about her. 

And in the beginning, he was thankful for his eidetic memory because it allowed him to replay their conversations and memories on a loop. But now, the memories mocked him and kept him up at night. She became a part of his past life and he didn’t know whether his new life after prison could accommodate her.

What if they never solved the case? What if he had to spend the entirety of the 25 years in prison? Would she come see him then? At what point would she move on from him? Would she even bother showing up to break up with him? Or would he eventually have to learn from JJ that Y/N found a new lover as she mistakenly mentions her name in conversation?

This is ridiculous. She loves him. He knows that.

Right?

 Curse the intricate inner workings of his brain. It never ceased. He shouldn’t be thinking this way. But pulling himself out of the darkest place he’d ever been was proving to be increasingly difficult. 

Rage filled him as he learned of his mother’s abduction. He didn’t know why he expected Y/N to come take him home when he’d been released instead of JJ. He shouldn’t have done that. He also shouldn’t have felt disappointed when he saw Penelope all by herself right outside the prison doors.

But he did.

No one mentioned her on the way back to the headquarters, but she invaded his mind anyway. He didn’t have the time or the energy to be thinking of her, he needed to find his mother. 

She had been eagerly awaiting his arrival in the bullpen with the rest of the team. She grinned for the first time in months as she saw his tall figure appear through the glass doors. She watched as Rossi grabbed Spencer’s face and kissed his cheeks before pulling him into a bear hug. She watched Emily stroked his hair and kissed his head. Even Matt threw his arms around Spencer. Tears fell as she watched the scene unfold across the room from her desk. 

Spencer’s entire attitude shifted as his eyes finally landed on her. His smile dissipated, his shoulders were pushed back, and his eyes, his kind, soulful eyes were cold as they bore into her wet ones. She felt a shiver race its way down her spine. The air in the room shifted. It was eerily quiet, everyone waiting for the fallout. But Spencer stood still and silent, neither of them making the first move. There was so much left unsaid between them.

“Let’s go find my mother.” Spencer spoke as he averted his gaze from her and made his way to the conference room. 

A silent sob wracked through her body as she fell back into her chair, her fingers gripping at her roots in frustration. Penelope rushed to her quickly and tried to console her, the rest of the team already in the conference room discussing the case.

“Go help the team, I’ll have Emily brief me later.” Y/N said, taking a deep, shaky breath as she pried Penelope off of her frame. Penelope reluctantly nodded and made her way into the conference room. Spencer’s expression was stone cold and indecipherable as he watched Y/N scurry off into the direction of the bathrooms through the window. 

Hours later, they had managed to retrieve Diana after learning that Cat Adams was in fact impersonating Mr. Scratch along with some help from Lindsey Vaughn. They were now doing the best they could to track down the real Mr. Scratch, but the team had been caught in a horrific car accident, which led to Emily’s abduction. Spencer was currently at home with his mother. Y/N, Penelope, and Matt hadn’t gone with the rest of the team. Y/N had been too shaken up to go out into the field.

“Y/N, get Spencer and meet us at the hospital!  Rossi’s refusing treatment until he talks to you two!” Matt yelled as he and Penelope raced to the hospital. Y/N nodded and called Spencer. Her name was the last he wanted to see on his phone, but he picked up anyway. He almost didn’t.

“Spencer! There’s been a terrible accident, Emily’s been taken by Scratch, I’m picking you up now! Rossi’s refusing treatment! I’ll explain everything on the way to the hospital.” She spoke frantically into the phone, speeding off into the direction of his apartment. He hadn’t even had time to reply before she hung up. Minutes later, he got into the car and noticed her panicked state.

“Are you okay to drive?” He asked, immediately noticing her rapid breathing, wide eyes, and white knuckles from gripping the wheel tightly. She met his eyes, shaking her head. Spencer saw the tears and switched places with her, driving to the hospital. He also noticed how she failed to manage her breathing.

“Hey, hey. Try to match my breath.” He breathed in and out slowly. She shook her head in disbelief, hating the fact that this was their first encounter. He was still the caring man she fell in love with, even though she knew he probably hated her guts right then. Her breathing evened itself out and she fiddled with her fingers.

“I’m good, I’m good.” She muttered, mostly to herself, “Spencer, I-” she began but he cut her off harshly.

“Not now, Y/N.” He spat as he rolled into the hospital, searching for JJ and Rossi. Y/N’s heart wrenched as he ran to JJ’s side, treating her with the tenderness she craved. She found Rossi and ran to him quickly.

“Where’s Spencer? Get Spencer.” He uttered, obviously in pain. Y/N brought Spencer over.

“What’s going on?” He asked, walking into the room.

“Shut up and listen.” Rossi demanded, eyes shifting between Y/N and Spencer, landing on Y/N as he spoke, “First, you, go through my pants pockets and find my keys. Second, you’re back on the team.” He referred to Spencer.

“Not sure I should be. Has the director approved that?” He asked.

“I’m making the calls now. I’ll take the heat. You’re back on the team.” He panted.

“I’ve got the keys.” Y/N said, holding them.

“There’s a little one there to a file cabinet in my office. Inside, there’s Chicago Bears season tickets. When you get them, call Matt Simmons. I promised him those tickets.” He seemed adamant.

“Rossi, did they give you something to make you loopy?” Y/N asked.

“I’ll get the doctor, we’ll get him into surgery.” Spencer stated and made a move to leave.

“Just shut up and listen.” He insisted, “Emily is missing. Stephen is dead. As for you two ass clowns, you’ll do me the courtesy of following my orders. And for the love of God, work through whatever it is you two are going through and then I’ll go into surgery.”

She and Spencer nodded as they left the room. “This has nothing to do with season tickets.” She stated and he agreed.

“Ass clowns?” Spencer muttered confusedly and she repressed a giggle. 

They had been so caught up in the urgency of the case that they hadn’t found the time to talk, but Y/N was glad that Spencer was at least conversing with her, even if it was strictly about the case. With Emily now found and Scratch finally dead, they learned to breathe again. Y/N offered to drive Spencer home from Stephen’s funeral, seeing how morose he seemed. He reluctantly agreed and got into the car.

“I know you don’t want to, but we really have to talk.” She said softly, afraid that if she spoke too loud, he’d either snap or break. It was unclear which was more likely to happen.

“Now’s not really the best time, Y/N.” He spoke defeatedly, his hands running over his face and digging into the sockets of his eyes.

“It’ll never be the right time, Spencer.” She pushed, “I missed you.”

He laughed crudely, almost mocking her, “Oh, you missed me?”

“Yes, I missed you. Of course I missed you. I’m sorry I didn’t-”

“Sorry?!” He practically screeched, turning to face her. Her jaw clenched in reaction as she focused on driving. 

“You’re sorry for what exactly? For not coming to visit me? For not bothering to write me any letters? For practically pretending like I didn’t exist? Do you have any idea how often I hoped to see you? Do you have any idea what it feels like to be disappointed to see one of my best friends because I was hoping it was you? I hated myself for it, but it happened. How could you, Y/N?!” He seethed, voice uncharacteristically booming through the small space between them. It was laced with hurt and betrayal. She abruptly pulled the car over on the side of the road and turned to look at him. 

“How could you forget about me like that?” Spencer’s voice was small and shaky, tears threatening to spill.

Her own tears found their way down her cheeks as she stared at his heartbroken face, “Forget about you? I could never forget about you, Spencer.” She sniffled softly.

“You were all I could think about. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat. I’m pretty sure I developed an ulcer from the stress, by the way. I didn’t visit because…” she swallowed, pausing to blow her nose, “because I was angry. I was so angry, Spencer. Not at you, of course. At the situation. It was unfair to you and I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I know no amount of apologies will undo it, but I couldn’t handle it. I knew I wouldn’t have been able to handle seeing you in there and not be able to hold you or kiss you or...or touch you.” She paused again to blow her nose. 

Her words were disguised by the sobs, but Spencer managed to comprehend them. “It would have been too painful for me, I’m sorry. I was too weak and too selfish. You deserved so much better than that, I know.”

Spencer’s heart ached to see her cry, but he was so upset that he didn’t know if he could forgive her just yet. His throat got that familiar feeling of being so tight that he couldn’t speak. He just shook his head and rubbed at his eyes, turning away from her.

“Just take me home.” He whispered and she nodded, pulling herself together. Spencer occupied himself with a loose thread on his clothes, the soft hum of the engine was the only thing filling the silence between them.

She pulled up in front of his apartment complex and he was about to step out of the car when she reached for his arm, stopping him. She drew her hand back immediately, realizing that that was the first time they made physical contact since he got back. She hoped she wasn’t overstepping. He stared at her curiously at both reaching for him and drawing back.

“Spence, I understand if you want to end things. I just...I love you. I never stopped loving you and I never will.” She reminded him and he nodded, the tenderness she’d grown so used to returning to his eyes.

“I love you, too.” He spoke quietly, offering her a tight smile that obviously hid a lot of pain. 

She watched as he got out of the car and disappeared inside the building. He hadn’t confirmed nor denied that he wanted to end things with her and she didn’t know if she should be relieved at that. All she did know though was hearing those four words from Spencer again breathed a new life into her lungs.

He still loves her.

That’s all that matters.

Part 2

[psychoticwillgraham]

John Constantine/Will Graham Drabble Series 1

Summary: When John attempts to be cute, Will has a not so positive reaction and of course they’re both terrible at dealing with the fallout.

A/N: Ok so this ship lmao Idk if this existed before I thought of it but if it didn’t now it does lol I just thought that since both of these very screwed up boys have been through ridiculous amounts of horrific trauma, that they could work through it together! Or not, yknow and that would be the main conflict since both of them are terrible with trusting people and have intimacy issues (yes I know Constantine is a hoe but I mean intimacy in other ways). Anyway this is just one piece in a huge series of smaller fics for this ship. If you have other ideas/requests for this ship just let me know! Also I will bring all of you aboard this ship with me mark my words!!

Warnings: derealization/dissociation/panic attacks kinda?? idk something like that?? it’s very…. mish mash of stuff

****

A small yawn escaped from Will’s lips as he opened his eyes blearily, feeling the light pressure of fingers against his scalp, grasping ever so lightly against his hair. He briefly tensed up as the haze of sleep lifted from his mind, remembering that it was just John, breathing a sigh of relief at the realization.

“It’s just me love,” John whispered, “You’re safe.”

Will could feel John’s fingers lightly combing through his curls, and before he knew it, a small sigh crossed his lips. He could practically feel John smiling against his shoulder, which in turn made Will smile, even if just a bit. Obviously, this pleased John quite a bit.

“You’re actually smiling for once? Is it the end of the world again?” John chuckled, his head now nestled in the crook of Will’s neck.

“Don’t get used to seeing it, it’s a one time thing,” Will joked, but in reality John would hopefully be seeing a lot of more them.

John just hummed contently, pressing small kisses to the back of Will’s neck.

Will began to tear up, and he immediately hated himself for it. He always did this when someone showed him any kind of love like this. How could anyone even begin to love him? Especially after all of the horrible things he endured? He felt himself starting to slip into that familiar state of numbness, completely forgetting that his body tended to tense up and tremble. His vision blurred as his eyes began to unfocus, reality seeming to fall away. All he could hear was the sound of static, overwhelming and obnoxious.

“You’re ok Will, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, please, just come back to me,”

At first, Will struggled to hear John’s words through the cacophony of static, but as the seconds ticked on, it became clearer and clearer, and only on the fifth time he heard it, did he hear the urgency in John’s voice.

He could hear him saying other words, but he couldn’t understand anything he was saying. Soon enough, his vision was returning to normal, the trembling slowly ceasing, and his sense of reality returning.

Will hadn’t even realized that he’d been breathing so heavily until he finally felt the intense lightheadedness, or that he’d been crying so much. The main thing though, was that he felt John’s hand in his, holding it in a death grip.

“Sorry about that,” John winced as he quickly let go, giving Will a very concerned look.

“Was that the worst one?”

“Not quite, but it’s up there for sure. I don’t know what caused it to be honest, but I think we should lay off on that kind of stuff for a while,” Will knew that it had been his own hangups that caused this, and that they’d never get very far in their relationship if they didn’t talk it out. But neither of them were quite ready for that yet, at least in Will’s opinion. John had enough secrets that he still hadn’t told him yet, and Will had some of his own. They would both have to come clean eventually, but now definitely wasn’t the time.

Will swore he saw a hint of disappointment in John’s face, but it was gone as quick as he saw it.

“It’s late, why don’t we just turn in for the night? I promise I won’t touch you,” Will could hear the defeat and sadness in his voice, which just made him feel even worse.

“John, that’s not-,” Will felt like the biggest asshole in the room now, feeling awful about what he’d said. In fact, he wanted John to do the exact opposite right now. He needed comfort, something, anything to calm him down.

John didn’t respond, instead storming off into their room and slamming the door shut.

Once again, everything’s my fault, Will thought to himself. I just have to say the wrong things and piss everybody off. I deserve all of the shit I bring on myself, he thought as he laid on the couch, pulling a blanket over himself and closing his eyes, hoping that he’d fall asleep quickly.

That night he dreamt of earlier that evening, of John laying on top of him, his fingers running through his curls, the domestic bliss of it all.

That’s something that I’ll never deserve.

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

AUs that live in my head rent free

*multiple ships*

Jercy sports AU where Percy is a basketball player, Jason is a soccer (football) player. They meet at a sports awards show and both get Player of the Year awards in their fields. It's inevitable that they challenge each other to their pertaining sports and laugh hysterically at the attempts. Because their sports seasons are at different times in the year (don't come at me if they aren't in real life I don't give a shit about sports) they go to each others games and every goal/basket scored they point at each other and it's like the whole world narrows to that single moment. They are legendary in the sporting world. When they retire they open up a sports school and recruit fellow friends from other sporting professions. Annabeth is an Olympic gold medalist swimmer, Frank is unbelievable at tennis.

Valjackson childhood best friends AU where Percy's mom and Leo's mom were best friends their whole lives and therefore their children spent a lot of time together. Leo and Percy used to terrorize Sally's sweetshop and Esperanza's workshop. They learnt how to be the cutest troublemakers and could not be separated by the strongest forces in the world. They had girls falling all over them but neither was interested. Despite Percy being bi and Leo being pan. It seemed every relationship they tried to enter into didn't work out. There was always something missing. They realize what it is 2 months before they go to college. Percy gets accepted into one across the country and they both panic at the thought of being separated. They have a fallout and it is miserable for both of them. It takes some needling from their mothers, and giggles over coffee later, before they realize why they're so upset. They both storm our of their houses at the same time, just down the street from each other as it had been their whole lives, and slam together. "I don't want you to leave. I love you. I am in love with you Jackson." Percy chokes, tears blurring his pretty green eyes. "I know. I love you too. But we will see each other again. And I will come back. And we will be together." It seems the fates were on their side because although they didn't promise commitment to each other through the college years it felt unnatural to be with anyone else. So they stayed single, and met during the vacations and loved each other from a far. And when college was finally over they fell into each other so naturally it's as if they had never been separated. Now they live a few streets down from their mothers, who ended up moving in together as best friends who had wanted to do it all those years ago. Family dinners and full of cringy memories and soft looks. They were born already together. They die that way too.

Pipabeth coffee shop AU, where they both work at the cute Cafe on main Street. Piper is new and Annabeth, who is busy and impatient, has to show her the ropes. For the first two weeks they open up shop together. Annabeth is not a morning person. Piper most definitely is. They eventually fall in love in the break room and it is horrible how cute they are. The cafe patrons either give them filthy looks or coo. They're both university students when they meet. It takes them 3 years to get together. It takes them 2 to marry. Piper goes on to become a school teacher. Annabeth opens her own coffee shop. They still do the morning shift together.

Percabeth theater kids AU where percy is the shy accidental lead in the play because he was messing around in the auditorium of the school and the drama teacher heard him sing and demanded he sign ip for auditions. Annabeth is part of the tech crew and cannot help but be mesmerized everytime Percy is on stage. They learn of each other when Percy has a costume emergency during the first dress rehearsal and she's in the wings to help him about 30 seconds before he goes on stage. He gives her roses to thank her and it is the end. They're together from that moment on. Who knows if they last, they live on forevermore in the wings of the stage.

Valgrace teacher AU where Jason is the new history teacher at a high school and Leo, the maths teacher, takes great delight in having his student prank Jason's classroom on the daily. It is especially fun when the blonde comes storming in all red in his golden face and then immediately schools his expression into one of pointed calm when he sees Leo has students. It's always a clipped "Can I please talk to you Mr Valdez." Leo has never been able to hide his grin. One prank goes a little awhol though and Jason's classroom is a mess. Leo helps clean up after school and the tension of three months of back and forth turns electric in an instant. They become the couple the students giggle over. Jason refuses to partake in any affectionate activities during school hours. Leo takes it as a challenge to sneak as many forehead and cheek kisses in as possible. They spend their evenings grading papers and sipping tea. Leo eases his husband's glasses off his face and grabs a blanket before squishing himself onto the couch with Jason. They fall asleep like that many times a month. It never stops.

McJackson theme park workers AU where they challenge each other to the scariest Rollercoasters right after lunch and whoever throws up first has to do park rounds. They're at a tie but Percy is determined to win. So he challenges Piper to ride their two scariest rollers one after the other for half an hour. Piper who can never say no to a dare does it. She throws up so violently Percy has to take over her shift for three days. He brings her soup, and bland toast, and peppermint tea. She laughs at his doting and he mumbles apologies for the guilt of making her bedridden. He says he'll do any dare she asks, so she has some justice. She gives him a glittering smirk and says "any dare?" He should have known then he'd be in trouble but he nods anyway. "I dare you to kiss me." They've been happily terrorizing park guests ever since. And now they both go on terrible rides and get sick and egg each other on. And they are best friends with the added bonus of kissing each other thrown in. When Percy proposes it is so on brand for then their friends groan when they hear the recount. "I dare you to marry me." Piper has never been so happy to complete a dare in her life.

Leobeth as stressed out engineering students AU. They meet in the library when they both go to the printer at the same time and find out its broken. It's 2am and Annabeth just wanted to print her notes so she could start on the grueling process of actually studying them. Leo laughs when she kicks the machine and then fixes it with ridiculous speed. She's grateful enough to throw her arms around him and buy him coffee. They end up studying together often and help each other with theories and concepts they aren't quite grasping. They kind of fall into love, tinkering their friendship just as Leo tinkered with the printer. One day they were groaning over notes and the next Annabeth was kissing Leo because she got an A on her test and she was so happy she was beside herself. He pulls her in for another one and the kiss promised forever. They did everything together after that. Studied, graduated, succeeded. And when they got married Leo printed his vows over her study notes, and gifted her a little printer pendant that she wore on her necklace of beads. Annabeth laughed herself silly and never took it off.

[besanii]

Promts for wangxian:(non cultivater au)(this is a pirate/bandit au) (with classy dancing and thievery)(btw this is supposed to be sorta light with bits of angst)

Wwx and lwj are both thieves and they are trying to steal at the same super fancy party but then they meet for the first time on the dance floor and ballroom dance (like group dancing like from cheesy British period shows)while conversing and stealing from the rich snobs around them. Neither notices what the other is doing, and then they have to leave before they get caught. They don't pick pocket eachother but they do steal...each others hearts. Cue misunderstandings about both of them thinking the other is a snobby rich person and then justifying to themselves and to their siblings (lxc and jwy)(jyl is super supportive and so is lxc but he has more trepidations) that the other can't be that bad and maybe they r the exception to the snobby rich people clique

(in reality lxc is motivated by heartbreak and rage bc he trusted jgy but jgy used him to get insider info about the lan fam and the jins drove the lan family to ruin even tho they were awesome and helped support their area. So he and lwj teamed up with the bandits nie(whose father was killed by wrh) to steal from the rich and trashy jins who are spending all the country's money on lavish parties and horrible ness and r rumored to be starting a war soon and r bankrolled by the pirates wen who have wrh as a Duke or the equivalent and his eldest is business face while his youngest is the pirate of the operation with wen zhulio and they r terrible and attack shipments and get the goods to the jins)

(the jiangs were a merchant family and also supported their area and were not terrible trashy rich people but the wens r pirates and they attacked all the jiang ships,stealing all their merchandise. Madam yu and Jiang fengmian tried to secure a trade alliance back when the jins started to skirt over into Jiang business with the neighboring country( the one the jins and wens r thinking of attacking) but are presumed dead at sea bc wen chao and wen zhulio attacked their ship. Then older bro wen(wen chaos bro who's name im forgetting) comes and occupies lotus pier bc "wen chao ran off years ago we haven't heard from him im here as a friend" officially they r there to offer support but unofficially they r there to secure the trade routes and take advantage of a grief striken jwy and they do so, sending jyl to jinlingtai as a political prisoner(funnily enough lqr is also a political prisoner but he's there bc he's a famous philosopher and teacher). so jwy and wwx are evacuated by the dafan wen clan of seaward doctors and presumed dead when lotus cove gets set on fire by the wens to cover the tracks of terribleness and to send all the trade routes to jinlingtai while lotus cove is "rebuilding". Jyl knows they r not dead bc wwx sends her notes and her guard is song lan and xxc and they help keep her up to date.btw jwy and wq r possibly dating bc he recognizes that she and her fam saved him and his bro and they r really happy bc there is no core swap and he and wwx r chaos bros and happy and he's dating wq and they killed wen chao a bit ago so he's like on cloud nine and bc this is a noncultivater au wwx doesn't resort to demonic cultivation he's just awesome with a sword and has a pirate swagger. Wq is the captain, jwy is like 2nd mate. And wwx is like the head of the group on boarding missions and such with wn as his second anf wen yuan as his adopted son and they all get together and plan raids and study trade routes with the Intel jyl sends to them from the inside. Jyl is in a relationship with miammian who is an ambassador from the country that the jins and wens r thinking of attacking.)

So the lans/nies are bandits and rogues and the jiangs/dafan wens are pirates and both are robbing the wens and the jins nobles and staging highway heists and seaward piracy

Anyway so neither the lans nor the jiangs know about eachother bc is a difference of terrain and they haven't interacted before but wwx and lwj meet at this party and they fall in love but with the hijinks and funny ness of thinking your love interest is a rich dude u r probs gonna have to rob at some point but they r so lovely and then they keep meeting up and eventually team up and take down the jins and evil wens and eventually establish order again.

Funnily enough nhs knows wwx bc they were bootleggers together before the jiang fallout but nhs does nhs and sends lwj to a party he knows wwx will be at(he does hook them up he loves them both and wants them to be happy) (also he hooked his bro up with lxc)

Hahaha I don’t think you need me to write this??? It’s already all fleshed out XD

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

|| on ao3

The inn was Jaskier's idea. He had insisted on staying so Geralt could relax because there isn't a bathhouse in town and after a good week on the road, Geralt could use a break. At first, he had been thankful for the thought, but now he's not so sure.

Jaskier is now the only one doing any relaxing while Geralt is still on edge watching him and ensuring he doesn't get himself into any trouble. He's very drunk and while the young men and women drinking with him think he's charming, Geralt doesn't share their amusement. They won't be the ones fending off angry relatives if he climbs into the wrong bed tonight.

Then, out of nowhere, Jaskier catches his eye over the crowd and Geralt very nearly groans out loud as Jaskier slips away from his admirers to join him in the corner. Geralt prefers drinking alone, but as soon as Jaskier spots him, a dozen heads turn in his direction and he scowls at them. The gesture is enough for most of them to return to their own business, but a few are curious and Geralt has learned the hard way that nothing deters Jaskier anymore.

He saunters over with a lopsided grin and slides conspicuously into Geralt's lap. If he wasn't accustomed to this kind of behaviour while Jaskier was drunk, Geralt might push him off and return to drinking alone. But tonight, Jaskier gets his arms around his neck and the way his thumb rubs against the back of his neck is actually kind of... nice.

"One of those lovely ladies told me a Witcher's touch is special," Jaskier hums, "tingly. Is that true, Geralt?"

"You're sitting in my lap, Jaskier, you tell me."

He leans in close enough that Geralt can feel his breath against his cheek. "That's not what I mean and you know it."

"Well," Geralt asks, "why don't you find out for yourself?" Jaskier quite nearly falls backward onto the floor and Geralt has to bring an arm up around his waist to keep him steady.

"Really?" he chokes and Geralt scoffs.

"No. Go back to your friends, Jaskier. I'm going to bed."

He slides Jaskier out of his lap and before he has a chance to say anything else, Geralt slips out through the crowd, so Jaskier goes back to his friends to announce his findings are, sadly, inconclusive. When Geralt gets up to their room, he spends what can only be described as an embarrassing amount of time trying to figure out how he could make his touch tingle.

It’s not that he really cares, he’s heard much more absurd and, frankly, much more realistic rumours about Witchers in the past, but something about this one gets to him. Maybe it’s because Jaskier believed it or maybe it’s because it’s inherently sexual but a part of him wants to know where it stems from.

An hour of messing around with various signs tells him the accusation is baseless.

Later that night, when all experimentation is over and Geralt is just about to turn in for real, there's a knock on the door. Expecting Jaskier, too drunk to get the door open himself, Geralt sighs and pushes himself up from the bed. He's in no mood to deal with a drunk and clingy bard and he considers going down to get a second room when he opens the door to find not Jaskier, but the innkeeper.

"We, er, have a situation of sorts downstairs," the man mumbles, wringing his hands at the sight of Geralt's scarred chest. Geralt grunts and reaches for his sword instinctively, expecting the worst where Jaskier is concerned. "I- I don't think you'll be needing that," he says, eyes wide, but Geralt just raises an eyebrow at him and brushes past.

He knows exactly what sort of situation they have downstairs and he's learned sometimes the sight of a sword alone is enough to diffuse a problem.

As expected, Jaskier does seem to be in the middle of it with some Lord or other, currently pressed up against a beam and rambling to defend himself. Geralt sighs. At least the sword doesn't seem to be necessary; they're both fairly drunk and Geralt could easily dodge whatever ill-considered attack he might face.

He crosses over to them scowling at Jaskier's grin and doesn't wait long enough to hear an explanation. He's tired and he's spent more than enough time thinking about Jaskier and tingling tonight and now his sleep has been interrupted. Without saying a word, he pushes between the two of them and picks Jaskier up off the floor, slinging him over his shoulder.

The only protest he gets is a soft oof when Jaskier's chest hits his shoulder. The lord stares after them, blinking like he can't quite believe what he's seeing.

"See," Jaskier shouts belatedly, already halfway across the bar, "I told you." Geralt just rolls his eyes and carries him up to bed.

In their room, Geralt lets him down, pressing a hand to his shoulder to steady him as Jaskier adjusts to being back on his feet. Geralt helps him out his clothes, now stinking like liquor and Jaskier grins as his hands brush against bare skin.

"You know," he hums, "I do feel a little tingly."

"That's the vodka."

Geralt gets him out of the rest of his clothes, tossing them into a corner to be taken and washed, then guides him to bed. Jaskier flops on top of the blankets, pulls a pillow up under his face, and falls asleep almost instantly, much to Geralt's relief.

Geralt sits up for a little while, adding an extra log to the fire and pulling a blanket over Jaskier before laying his own blanket down on the floor. Drunk Jaskier is a restless sleeper and Geralt is exhausted; he's slept in much less comfortable places than this before. He doesn’t mind sleeping on the floor if it means a peaceful sleep.

In the morning, Geralt packs their things while Jaskier sits in bed and moans about his head. It takes all of Geralt's strength not to remind him that if he didn't drink so much, he wouldn't feel so awful in the morning, but he's tired and stiff from sleeping on the floor, and he doesn't want an argument this morning.

When they head out to collect Roach, Geralt is starting to feel better. He's still exhausted, but his limbs are loosening a little and the fresh air is a welcome respite after smelling alcohol all night. Just as he's saddling Roach, though, the same lord from the night before comes out, sauntering past and glaring daggers at Jaskier. Despite his earlier complaints, Jaskier seems to be well enough to smirk and wink at the man and Geralt takes a deep breath and bites his tongue.

"Your friend from last night?" he asks.

"I'd hardly call him a friend."

"Mm."

"Who is he?" Jaskier says, unprompted. "He's the cad who told me Witchers make terrible lovers." Geralt stiffens for a moment when he realizes Jaskier was arguing in his defence last night, but he replies quickly to cover it up.

"I don't recall asking."

"And it's not like he'd know, anyway,” he continues, oblivious to Geralt’s disinterest. “Men like him like to throw their words around and make up all sorts of stories about things they know nothing about." Geralt turns and lifts an eyebrow at him, but Jaskier misses the irony.

"And you would," he deadpans.

"I know better than him," Jaskier says, smug. And for a second Geralt worries that he does and he's afraid to ask who Jaskier may have run into along the road. "I have you," he clarifies and Geralt's body relaxes.

It’s a little worrying, having not realized how he’d tensed up at the mere thought of Jaskier with another Witcher, but Geralt ignores that for the time being. He takes Roach's reins in one hand and turns away, heading west. Jaskier trots obediently behind him.

"Jaskier," Geralt says, "last night you asked me if a Witcher's touch is tingly. You don't know shit."

Rumours spread about Witchers and tingling and Geralt suspects Jaskier is the one to blame. They've been in Temeria for a week with no plans yet to move on and Geralt knows he's bored, so it seems likely that he’s responsible. But he’s not the one dealing with the fallout of the whole fiasco. The dark looks and nervous glances are gone, replaced with curiosity or worse.

It’s not that Geralt doesn’t appreciate the change of pace, but he doesn’t like being fawned over either. He isn’t some sort of novelty for people to seduce and be done with. For the most part, he’s adjusted well enough to ignoring villagers and this isn’t much different than dodging insults and curses.

Jaskier, on the other hand, seems to have realized he’s made a mistake.

They're in Mirthe and Geralt had thought he was doing a good enough job making it obvious that he didn't want company. He’s sitting in the corner, as usual, facing away from the crowd and for good measure, he’s even got his hood up to hide his face. None of it is enough to deter the more determined of the townsfolk. The woman who approaches now is dark-haired and objectively beautiful but Geralt can already tell she's going to be a pain.

"So," she starts and Geralt barely resists rolling his eyes. "I've heard a thing or two about Witchers, care to show me if they're true." Gods, they’re not even trying for subtlety anymore.

"He doesn't," Jaskier interrupts, slipping between the two of them and draping himself over Geralt's lap. He wraps an arm around Geralt's neck, pressing up too close and for the first time, Geralt is actually relieved to have him there. He's even more relieved when the woman scoffs at Jaskier, narrowing her eyes before stalking away like she’s lost out on something.

Normally, Geralt would push Jaskier away at this point, but he's thankful for not having to talk to anyone else about what he can or can't do during sex, so he lets him stay. And he likes it if he's honest. He likes the weight of having a lapful of bard and he likes the way Jaskier's fingers twist in the short hair at the back of his neck. And when he leans in close enough that Geralt can smell the wine on his breath, he nearly closes the distance between them to taste it. Which is worrying, at best.

Jaskier doesn't share any of his inhibitions and he pushes the boundaries whenever he gets the chance. Normally Geralt doesn't put up with his theatrics, but tonight he likes being rescued and he wants to keep Jaskier exactly where he is. Because if Jaskier is in his lap, no one else will bother him. Or at least that’s what he tells himself. It definitely has nothing to do with the way Jaskier’s fingertips press into the base of his skull.

Apparently, having someone in your lap isn’t a strong enough deterrent for some of the other patrons, and Geralt still finds himself being propositioned. But Jaskier does the talking for him, saving Geralt the irritation, so when Jaskier pushes further and pretends to know all sorts of things about Geralt and his touches, Geralt doesn't stop him. He cooperates even. And he's expecting it all to be utter bullshit about glowing eyes and tingling, but Jaskier shuts that down pretty quickly, much to Geralt's amusement.

"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffs, stroking Geralt's hair. "He's human, he's just a person. He doesn't glow or vibrate. Although-" he flashes a cheeky grin in Geralt’s direction and Geralt can’t even bring himself to roll his eyes.

One of the more skeptical people in their audience looks to him for affirmation and Geralt just shrugs. She purses her lips, and Jaskier pulls back to look at Geralt. He looks absolutely delighted and the glimmer of joy in his eyes is intoxicating, Geralt can't help but grin back at him.

Jaskier leans in like no one else is in the room, breathing against his ear. Geralt isn't sure if it's part of the act or not, but when Jaskier whispers, "take me upstairs," he isn't about to risk it. He shifts Jaskier so he's straddling his thighs and there's a rolling heat that creeps up his chest. When Jaskier bends back, effectively shooing away the gathered patrons, Geralt realizes he's fucked either way.

Mostly, he hopes it’s a part of the act and Jaskier will drop it as soon as they’re alone in their room. But another part of him doesn’t want it to be.

He's an idiot for ever having let Jaskier traipse along after him, to begin with, but now he's stuck with him. And now, Jaskier has done something to him and he's got all these feelings. And now, right this moment, Geralt is going to take him upstairs and if that’s what Jaskier wants, he’s going to fuck him.

When he looks down at him, Jaskier's got a smug little smirk on his face and Geralt wants to kiss it away. He hauls Jaskier up into his arms and he's the one feeling tingly as Jaskier gives him a seductive little wink and wraps his arms tighter around Geralt's neck. If they don’t get out of here soon, Geralt is going to do something stupid in front of a lot of people.

Geralt makes his way out of the crowded inn and gets Jaskier upstairs to their room. Jaskier laughs as they stop at the door and when Geralt gives him a funny look, he slides a hand down the side of his face.

"They really bought that, huh?" Jaskier grins at him and Geralt scowls. He thought he knew Jaskier better than that.

"Hmm." He shifts Jaskier to hold him with one arm to unlock the door and Jaskier practically purrs.

"Fuck, you're strong."

"Hmm."

"It's a little bit sexy." Jaskier bites his lip and Geralt has to look away from him.

"And you're a little bit drunk."

Jaskier leans in again, letting his lips brush against Geralt's cheek. "Mm, I'm not. But you are sexy." He leans back, looking at him and Geralt realizes he's going to do this whether it's a good idea or not. Probably not. He walks into the room and twists his fingers in Jaskier's shirt, hauling him forward to kiss him.

Jaskier responds immediately, sliding his hands into Geralt's hair and holding him against him. Geralt wasn't expecting this kind of response and it catches him off guard, but he shuts the door behind them and carries Jaskier to the bed. He feels like he's burning up and suddenly he's afraid of doing the wrong thing and when he presses Jaskier into the bed, his movements are automatic and stunted.

He shouldn't do this. Jaskier is his only real friend and the last time he had sex with a friend it got complicated. He holds back, but Jaskier isn't having it and he stops, pushing Geralt up off of him.

"What's wrong?" he asks, "I thought you wanted this?" He looks anxious like he’s the one to blame here, and Geralt doesn't know what to say.

He does want him. He wants him much more than he's ever wanted anyone, more than he should want anyone. But he's a Witcher and Jaskier is a poet, a romantic and there's no romance in what Geralt does. He just got carried away tonight, wrapped up in the way Jaskier treated him like a regular person, the way he defended him. It felt good for once to feel normal, even for a fleeting moment. But he knows he isn't and he knows he can't have things like this that seem so common to others. Rarely does Geralt feel a gentle touch without paying and even then, it's timid at best.

But not Jaskier. Even after Geralt has failed to respond to him, Jaskier runs his hands up his arms, rubbing soothing circles into his skin. Geralt doesn't deserve him, but Jaskier doesn't seem to care.

"I can't," he says finally and Jaskier looks at him like he's considering it.

"Do this?” he asks, “Or want it?" Geralt doesn't meet his eyes. "Because you are allowed to want things, and I promise you darling that if this is what you want, you absolutely can have it." Jaskier reaches up for him, pulling Geralt down against him and rolling him onto his back. Geralt says nothing, just looks up at him. Jaskier isn't deterred.

"You can tell me," he whispers, shifting onto his knees so he can lean over Geralt. "We're friends, right?"

"Hmm."

"Or is that the problem? Because let me tell you, Geralt, if you're worried about ruining this friendship, you won't. This is a terrible friendship and fucking me right now could only improve it." He slides his hands up Geralt's stomach tangling in the fabric of his tunic and tugging it up.

"Jaskier."

"Tell me you don't want me and I'll leave you to sleep, but I think you do. I think you’re making up rules for yourself again." Geralt grunts at him but gives no other response and Jaskier smiles softly. "Charming as always, darling, but I'm going to need you to use your words."

"I don't want to fuck this up," Geralt rumbles, turning to look at the wall. "You're all I have."

"And I'm not going anywhere. If I recall, you've fucked up pretty badly before and yet, here we are." Jaskier leans down next to his ear, breathing softly. "I'm yours, love, tingly or not." He presses his lips to the bolt of Geralt's jaw, leaving sloppy kisses down to his chin. "Do you want me, Witcher?"

Geralt looks up into bright, honest eyes and gods does he want him. It feels unreal that he could even have the chance, but Jaskier's hands are soft against him, brushing the strip of skin between his trousers and his dishevelled shirt.

"Yes," he breathes and Jaskier tips his chin up, smiling before pressing their lips together firmly. He's soft still, but his enthusiasm bleeds through in the fumbling of his fingers and the desperate groan that slips from his lips.

Jaskier's fingers slip down, popping each button on Geralt's trousers with intent. He pushes them open and Geralt's breath catches in his chest, hips rising with the motion of Jaskier's fingers as he strokes down the length of his cock. Jaskier's mouth slides away from his own, pressing open-mouthed kisses down his neck and chest, down to the vee of Geralt's hips. When he reaches the head of his cock, jutting out from his trousers, Jaskier noses at him, humming softly.

"Jas," he huffs and Jaskier doesn't wait any longer, taking the head of his cock between his lips and slowly sliding down to the base. Geralt doesn't breathe as Jaskier settles. His cock is pressed right to the back of his throat and he knows Jaskier can't keep this up for long but it feels incredible. It's too good and Geralt has to steady himself to keep from fucking into his mouth.

He draws back and Jaskier follows, slipping up to the head again and running his tongue around it before sinking back down. His head bobs and Geralt has to keep his eyes off him because he doesn't think he'll be able to hold it together if he can see what he’s doing. Jaskier sinks low and Geralt's hand thrusts into his hair, tugging lightly and drawing a stifled moan from Jaskier's lips.

"You like that?" he asks, curious. Jaskier presses up into the touch, flicking his eyes up to meet Geralt's and he’s a stunning sight, cheeks flushed, lips stretched wide around the girth of his cock.

Jaskier pulls up, running his tongue along the slit of Geralt's cock and back around the head. Out of sight, he slips a hand beneath himself and Geralt can hear the rustling of fabric, the metal clink of claps coming undone. Jaskier's hand slips around himself and Geralt only just refrains from pushing him over and touching him himself, but Jaskier's tongue runs along the underside of his cock, sufficiently subduing him.

He slips a hand into Jaskier’s hair as Jaskier’s tongue works up the length of his cock, tugging lightly. Jaskier groans around him and Geralt tugs again, just lightly, but Jaskier gets the message.

He pulls up off his cock, sucking hard at the head and winding his tongue around him once more as he lifts his head. Geralt reaches out, tugging Jaskier up over him and he slides his hands down his back, over the swell off his ass. He squeezes just slightly, shifting his hips so his cock slides up against Jaskier's, hot and painfully hard.

He slides both hands into Jaskier's hair, pulling him into a hungry kiss and rocking up against him. The friction is exactly what he needs and he thrusts lightly, letting the sounds of Jaskier's pleasure wash over him. Jaskier lets out soft, needy moans that get lost amidst the tangle of lips and tongues but they linger long enough.

Geralt pulls one hand from Jaskier's hair, pushing down his back and beneath his trousers. He traces the line between his cheeks and Jaskier arches against him, pressing into the touch. He's soft and wanting and when Geralt's fingers slip between his cheeks, brushing against his hole, Jaskier groans into his mouth. He draws away, pressing his forehead into Geralt's shoulder.

"Fuck," he breathes and that one single word rips through Geralt like a hot blade. He flips Jaskier onto his back without warning, kneeling above him as he reaches for the hem of Jaskier's trousers.

Geralt gets him out of them quickly, discarding the clothing without a thought as he reaches for Jaskier's bag. He's always got a selection of oils and right now he's not picky. The bottle he pulls out is tall and thin and a quick nod from Jaskier confirms that it will do the job. Geralt is quick about popping the cork and slicking his fingers. Now that he's got Jaskier like this, he realizes just how badly he’s wanted it and his patience is running thin.

Moving over, Geralt settles himself next to Jaskier, running his slick fingers down the length of his cock and back behind his balls. He rubs against his hole and Jaskier groans, rolling his head to nip at Geralt's earlobe. Soft moans slip from his lips and Geralt rubs harder, using just enough pressure that he breaches the first ring of muscle. Jaskier whimpers and whines, biting Geralt's ear.

"More," he breathes and he pushes his hips down, taking Geralt deeper. He clenches around him and Geralt pushes deeper, rubbing up against him.

Jaskier whimpers as he seeks out that spot and Geralt runs a second finger around his rim before pushing in. He'd spend more time teasing, really working Jaskier up because he'd love to see him undone, writhing in ecstasy, but he doesn't have the patience right now. He thrusts hard and Jaskier groans. One hand flies up to his cock and Girl realizes with a start that Jaskier is wet, precome leaking steadily down his shaft and onto his stomach.

He can smell him now like the tangy-sweet scent wasn't there before and it makes his head foggy. Jaskier always smells incredible, but right now he's intoxicating and Geralt's whole body reacts to the change.

He watches, awed, as a bead of pre-come gathers and rolls down the head of Jaskier's cock. His fingers thrust quickly fucking him with renewed enthusiasm and Jaskier pushes his cock up, squeezing around the base as he arches off the bed. Geralt isn't sure what possesses him to do it, but he ducks his head taking the head of Jaskier's cock between his lips.

Sliding low, Geralt presses his nose into the bed of dark curls at the base of his cock, inhaling the scent of him. It's sweat and salt and the musky, spicy scent of lust and Jaskier. He smells incredible and his taste is just as good, spreading along the tip of his tongue.

By the time he gets three fingers into Jaskier, his jaw aches and Jaskier is rambling at him. It's nonsense, but it's filthy and Geralt struggles to keep his composure. His cock aches under him and every word goes through him like lightning, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to his aching cock. He shifts his hips, rutting against the mattress as Jaskier fucks his mouth and he can't take it much longer.

Jaskier's fingers slip into his hair, tugging his head up and Geralt is met with dark wide eyes before Jaskier sits up and his lips come crashing back against his own.

"I want you," he breathes. "Come on darling, I'm ready for your cock and I know you want it." He's right. Geralt is rock hard under him, pressed firmly into the mattress and he does, he wants him so badly. He growls low in his throat, pulling out and reaching for the bottle again.

He rises up to his knees, dripping oil along the length of his cock and Jaskier watches, suddenly silent. He moves, mirroring Geralt's position and shuffles forward. He runs his fingers along the underside of Geralt's cock. It's a soft, barely-there touch, but Geralt jerks into it with a grunt.

Jaskier turns toward the wall, bracing himself with one hand against the headboard and reaching back to stroke Geralt with the other. He wraps around him as best he can, tugging Geralt forward and Geralt lets himself be led. He presses against Jaskier's back, dipping to kiss the side of his neck and Jaskier moans softly, dropping his chin forward.

He presses Geralt's cock against his hole and pushes back against him. Geralt's fingers settle on his hips, fingers digging into his skin and he shuts his eyes. Jaskier is tight and hot around him and his mind is foggy as he presses into him.

"Fuck," Jaskier moans, "gods, Geralt, you're fucking huge." Geralt says nothing, but he withdraws a little, to no avail. Jaskier is quick to press back, taking him all the way and Geralt jerks forward, bracing himself on the wall above Jaskier’s shoulders. Jaskier's fingers move, slipping over Geralt's and Geralt covers his hand, tangling their fingers together.

He rolls his hips, draping himself over Jaskier's back and pressing his nose into Jaskier's hair. He tries to keep a steady pace, but every time, Jaskier is right there wanting him harder, faster, more and Geralt relishes the chance not to have to restrain himself. He fucks him hard, snapping his hips and pushing himself deep and rolling his hips into him. And Jaskier lets him, encourages him and when Geralt pushes his fingers into his hair again, jerking Jaskier back against him, he just moans and grins up at him.

"Tingly," he breathes and Geralt huffs incredulously, kissing the word from his lips.

Jaskier pushes his hips back, fully seating himself on Geralt's cock and he leans against his chest. Warm lips press against Geralt’s neck and he groans, slipping his hand down Jaskier's stomach and around his cock. Jaskier thrusts between his fingers and the shaky breath against his neck tells Geralt he's getting close. Which is way more arousing than it should be and Geralt has to steady himself to keep from coming right there.

He strokes Jaskier quickly, pressing his forefinger under the head and Jaskier whimpers under him. He rocks back onto Geralt's cock and forward into his hand, quick and hard until his hips stutter and he spills over Geralt's hand, rolling his head back on his shoulder.

Geralt is so caught up in watching him that he forgets about his own orgasm until Jaskier curls an arm around his neck, tugging his hair. There's a familiar pull in his gut and Geralt shoves his hips forward hard, knocking them both forward against the wall. He winds one arm under Jaskier's chest, holding him against him and it only takes a couple of quick thrusts before he's coming. He buries himself deep, hips jerking as he rides out the rush of it and Jaskier rides him through it, slipping his fingers through his hair and whispering soft words of praise.

He stays there for a moment with his face pressed into Jaskier's neck, pressing soft kisses into his skin. He's breathless and tired, but Jaskier is soft against him and when he hums Geralt can't help but smile to himself. He shifts, dropping to sit with his back against the wall, and he pulls Jaskier into his lap, running his fingers down his thighs.

"Am I tingly enough for you?" he asks and Jaskier laughs, dropping his head back against his shoulder.

"I never cared if you were tingly," he breathes, "you're perfect to me however you are." Geralt rolls his eyes, but he winds an arm around Jaskier's stomach and holds him close.

[anxiouslyfred]

Moss Graffiti

Summary: Virgil was convinced his soulmate worked in nuclear power from the poem he got describing them. He’s about to learn how wrong that is, and how weirdly some corporations view graffiti.

/\/\

Virgil's soulmate had to do something in nuclear power. He was certain of it. Why else would his poem include the line 'Green pollution close to hand'?

Really he'd taken decades to reach that conclusion, trying to decide what it could mean. Pollution usually wasn't anything green at all, but from those Simpsons opening credits, to the glow shows always used for nuclear radiation, that had to be what was intended. Unless there was something else being done that corporations would try to claim as pollution, but that just opened too many trails for his thoughts to follow.

“Uneven floors present a trip hazard and either need indicating or fixing. That's the most important issue, I've found, shall we continue through the rest?” Virgil shook the momentary thoughts of his soulmate from his head, focusing back on the Health & Safety inspection he was doing.

The offices were just waiting for an accident to happen in a lot of places, and if he had to yell to actually get the manager to come over instead of the receptionist, he would be. There's no point booking him to conduct the inspection if they just wanted to ignore the issues raised in his report.

“Mr Furniss has requested you confirm if the pollution on the outer walls will need a specialist to remove.” The receptionist, Miss Mauby, asked, noting down his comments.

“I haven't noticed any pollution. Do you mind showing me the section he's referring to?” Virgil raised an eyebrow. There had been some graffiti on one of the walls near the entrance, but it hadn't looked like anything he'd need to take note of.

The wall he was led to pretty much guaranteed he would be storming back into the manager's office to give his report. Wasting his time demanding answers that a fool could tell was simply moss was absurd, despite the design and words showing it was all deliberately placed. Virgil already agreed that the company had a lot of issues it needed to be addressing, especially regarding the waste products being incorrectly disposed of at the factory site.

Turning to Miss Mauby he nodded, “I believe it would be best for me to give my initial review to Mr Furniss directly, and I'll send the report over in a matter of days.” He didn't wait for a reply, already returning to the building and the office that was indicated to belong to the site manager.

By the time Virgil was leaving the site, he'd begun to calm down and find it amusing. The manager of the place really did think that graffiti was pollution and not just unauthorised artwork. Perhaps they needed some language lessons to clear up the definition and impact of using the wrong terms. Science classes could help more though.

When he glanced back towards the moss words, he had to call over, “Better get away from there. I think Mr Furniss mentioned getting cameras set up to monitor their walls.”

“I'll find some other wall to protest on then. He can't monitor them all and ignores any emails or government mandates to follow the laws for disposal of contaminated waste.” The person called back, voice shrill and uncaring.

Virgil wandered closer, a little curious to know more. “How did you even manage it anyway? I didn't think you could control where or how moss grows.”

“I made moss paint and spray with water each afternoon. For this lot at least. I've got twenty other sites I do this too and commissions to take for peoples gardens occasionally.” Virgil began to worry he'd asked the wrong thing with the lack of energy compared to the person's original response before they jumped to face him, “I'm making nature fight back for itself when it can't speak. The moss, lichens and plants shall rise to destroy humanity with my aid!”

“Okay, cool, erm good luck with that. I'll leave you to it then.” Virgil backed away at the yell, startled and very concerned that if someone in the office came out to see him talking with the moss graffiti guy he could lose payment for his services.

It was only once he got home that Virgil thought whoever it was looking after that moss seemed to fill 3 of the 4 lines in his soul poem, especially with that companies boss claiming graffiti was pollution.

He checked while swapping his jacket for a hoodie and the idea only grew at the familiar lines:

Uncontrolled by any rule,

Dangerous Attitude, surface cool.

Green pollution close to hand.

Trust fleeting as the sand.

Virgil had gotten the poem as a tattoo as soon as he was old enough to. He didn't want anybody finding out what his poem was and the easiest way to ensure that was to keep the only record of it literally on him.

Perhaps they'd encounter each other again in the city. Virgil did have other gigs coming up for offices of corporations known to be major polluters.

/Over to the Graffiti Artist\

Remus had been curious about the guy who'd come over asking about his graffiti, but he got people running away from him. It happened often enough pretty much anytime he tried to make friends.

He pushed the curiosity out of his mind though, focusing on that morning's project. He was still cultivating the moss on the edge of an animal testing lab for a soaps company and needed to make sure he was using the right mosses so the creature yelling at the company was recognisable.

“Get Away from there! I'll call the police on you for doing-” The angry yelling cut off when the woman got close enough.

Remus smirked, not turning around, but well aware it looked like he was just painting water onto the wall with how diluted he'd made the moss-paint today. He'd expected someone to try and stop him and wasn't going to give away what he was doing, including the fact these were rare mosses that if it got out the company had removed would enrage some environmentalist charities.

“Well isn't this fun. Do you often greet contractors by yelling at someone painting the walls with water, or am I just special?” The curious guy from yesterday was back, and apparently ignoring Remus in favour of greeting the woman. It was an interesting way to try and stick up for him though.

None of the apologies she was now stuttering out got directed to him either, and Remus finally realised this was one of the managers of the building and the guy had to be some sort of contractor. Not that it mattered to him of course, guy got scared off by a tiny bit of excitement.

He was humming while working on an established moss garden that evening when the guy walked passed again, and seriously Remus was beginning to think some cosmic force wanted them to talk.

“How'd you get the different colours?” The guy actually stopped to ask, glancing over the patterns. Dull, boring spirals. Remus had a far more interesting moss garden on the outer walls of his apartment.

“Different mosses.” He replied, turning to get more water for his spray bottle. It wasn't necessary, but he didn't feel like watching someone try to escape him currently.

The guy stayed waiting there, long enough Remus couldn't avoid returning to his work. “I'm Virgil by the way. He/Him. Sorry about that bitch this morning. She really needs to focus more on adequate safety railings and less on how the building looks. Aesthetic is not worth health hazards!” He sort of ranted, definitely trying to make conversation.

“I'm Remus and you're already scared of me, so I don't think you want to hear my actual views. Bugger off to screw in a H&S approved fallout bunker or something.” Remus interrupted before he could say anything else.

“No need to be a jerk, and sorry I'm not interested in losing a paycheck because the boss of a building is an asshole. Yelling and getting attention when I've just finished a place that specifically tried to call your work a biohazard could easily have the company finding some way out of paying for aiding a vandal or whatever.” Virgil snapped back, glaring. “I just wanted to know more because your work looks awesome, but fine, I'll leave asking more for some other day.”

Remus scoffed, throwing his spray bottle to one side and turning, “Yeah, when you decide I'm invisible again because I'm near one of those building's that's contracting you to yell at them. Fantastic chance to ask questions when you won't even glance my way.”

His words must have trigger some confusing thought process for Virgil as his right hand jumped to covering his left forearm, almost brushing over it in an odd pattern. He watched for a moment before turning back to checking the outlines were still clear.

“I can't put my chances of making the rent at stake, but fine, next time I see you I'll find time to stop and at least say hi. I'm going to get to know you, Remus. You can trust me on that, whether you believe it or not.” The words were threatening, and Remus wanted to come up with some actual threats Virgil could have used, but still didn't want to watch him run away.

“Only the naïve trust people instantly. Or the people wanting to use you and twist you into a different shape. I'm neither of those and the only time someone else controls how I twist is when they're bending me over.” He dismissed the promise and started humming again, pretending to focus on his work.

If they spoke for much longer of course he'd say something to have this brittle connection thoroughly sever.

That night Remus was still wondering about Virgil. How concerned he sounded over losing pay, and some vague terrible happening that could follow it.

There was definitely something of his soulmate poem in how the man was speaking and acting, but it just felt like another thing for Remus to hope for and end up destroying.

He had to listen to that old song again, if only to confirm it couldn't be Virgil at all:

Lashing out just to be heard

Worry infusing every word.

Cautious but convinceable,

Dreams their friends invincible.

/Days passing by\

The warning Virgil had given on the first time they encountered each other had been proven right. That company had put up cameras over the footpaths on the buildings, with only a few sections left clear of surveillance.

Remus had refreshed his free-running skills enough to get up onto one of the ledges. He wasn't expecting to get yelled at to get down and that it wasn't safe while checking if there was another layer of moss-paint needed or not.

“Virgil, you're really going to attract attention if you don't quiet down.” Remus sing-songed, leaning to look down from the ledge he was stood on, and grinning at the glare he was being given.

He wasn't expecting Virgil to walk a few steps back before launching himself up the wall. “And you're going to do yourself a freaking injury. Is constantly climbing up here really necessary for you to get the message across?”

“Yes, they're going to keep having the message painted until the listen and actually sort out the waste disposal of the factory.” Remus nodded. Virgil had been speaking to him, and actually seeking out the places Remus would turn up ever since threatening to get to know him. “Besides, a suicide on the property with this message growing afterwards would definitely make the news, get public interest sparked over everything they're doing wrong. Sounds like the perfect storm for them to face.”

“Except the part where you die. Not allowed. You act like you're invincible and I wish to whoever's listening you were.” Virgil snapped, and snatched the brush from Remus's hands for some reason. “Come on, tell me where I'm painting this one, and I'll help. Sooner you get this done, the sooner I can get you safely down from here!”

Remus blinked at the change, wondering whether this was what 'cautious but convinceable' meant before shaking it off. “That's for the darker bits. Currently just look like some discolouring. I'll do the pale bits since the difference for those can't be made out yet. Why would you want me to be invincible anyways? Most people would be glad to see something break me, even if they wouldn't wish me dead. A sever injury, maybe causing paralysis, and they'd all sigh knowing where I am and thinking they could control how much trouble I cause.”

“Sounds like you know a ton of jerks then. You're my Friend Remus. Not many people can say that and I'm not going to let you jeopardise my friend's life all to make a point against horrible business practices.” Virgil lectured, already following the lines, although his shoulders were so tense Remus wondered how his movements with the brush could be so fluid.

In more interesting news that literally sounded like the 2 lines Remus had mentally been insisting couldn't relate to Virgil had fallen into place and suddenly fitted him perfectly. He was singing the soul poem without thinking it, performing a short dance when he realised Virgil was staring.

“So are you writing poems about me now or is that, you know?” Virgil muttered a few moments after he finished singing.

“My soul Poem!” Remus squealed and the only thing that stopped him bouncing was Virgil's eyes quickly falling to his feet. The edge was close behind him and he wasn't going to fall after deciding that Virgil was his soulmate. “Seems to be perfect for you, right?!”

Virgil just nodded, shoving up the sleeve of his jacket and holding the arm out to Remus. “Get away from the edge, read this and have a laugh at what the manager of this place called your art.”

The tattoo was brilliant, with letters that looked like they were bleeding, and thorns twisting together to frame it. Realising the poem actually did describe him only made it better.

“So we are simply meant to be.” Remus grinned.

At least he knew this health and safety inspector wasn't completely against breaking the rules occasionally, at least if it meant they could keep each other safe instead.

[iselsis]

Unholy Matrimony 3

Trigger Warning: attempted sexual assault.

Tim briefly hoped that Oliver Queen had less moral character than Bruce Wayne and would agree to marry a reluctantly submitting thirteen-year-old, but the thought soured in his gut. They say that meeting your heroes is disappointing, how much worse would it be to marry one? He knew that adults mating with kids was bad, but Luthor was bad, and bad people doing bad things was nothing new. Heroes, though…

Tim didn’t want to live in a world where a hero would want a child as a wife. That was just wrong, and heroes weren’t allowed to be wrong like that.

He decided just to start compiling evidence of Mr. Luthor’s more egregious crimes – the dead business rivals, inconvenient employees, and private detectives, along with the swindling and stilted business deals. Those were the things that might actually convince them not to deal with Luthor. Not the fact that he was an extremely horrible person and a credibly accused serial rapist.

He stayed at his laptop for hours, assembling his evidence, and once he felt that he had enough, he finally closed his laptop and looked up.

The first light of dawn was starting to peek in through the gap in his curtains and he groaned. He was definitely going to regret pulling an all nighter later, especially while he was still in heat. At least he’d already been planning on avoiding his parents all day.

As an awareness dawned on him that time and his physical body were both things that, surprisingly, still existed even if he ignored both things indefinitely, he realized that he was hungry.

Tim tapped a nervous pattern with his fingers on the plastic casing of his laptop, weighing his options. He was pretty sure that he had at least half a granola bar stuffed in one of his backpacks, but he was hungrier than that. He wanted real food, which meant going down to the kitchen and running the risk of bumping into his parents. He’d had enough verbal beatdowns over the past days to last him the rest of his life, but they were probably still sleeping at…

Tim glanced at his alarm clock. 6:23. They were probably still asleep.

His stomach growled angrily at him, making the decision. It was a chance he’d have to take. Worse came to worse, he’d get to be told how worthless omegas are and how disappointed they were in him again, as if it were fresh news the hundred thirty-seventh time.

Tim quietly tiptoed across his room and turned the knob. The door swung open without a sound, courtesy of the well-oiled hinges he’d found were a staple of any kid who liked to sneak in and out of his house without getting caught. He could technically climb up the rugged brick exterior of their home, and he could even be doing that now, but it wasn’t a climb he liked to make in the dark, or when he was physically compromised, as he was in heat.

There was no light coming from under his parents’ bedroom, so Tim sneaked silently down the hall to the stairs. He stayed quiet, though less cautiously, as he got farther away.

Two flights of stairs and a hall later, Tim had reached the kitchen. He flipped on the light and made a move for the pantry, only to freeze when he noticed his father glaring at him.

“What are you doing up?” Jack asked brusquely.

Tim blinked twice, recalibrating quickly. “I just like getting up early. Wh-what are you doing up?”

Jack grunted. “Tashkent is nine hours ahead of Gotham. It takes some time to adjust. Of course, having to deal with the fallout of our only heir being an omega hasn’t helped our sleep schedule much.”

Tim wasn’t really sure how he was supposed to respond to that, so he just nodded and tried to look docile and submissive. Jack turned back to the bagel he’d been eating at the window, watching the sunrise, and Tim took that as his chance to sneak into the pantry.

He’d been hoping to be able to sneak a bunch of food back up to his bedroom so that he wouldn’t have to leave for the rest of the day, but with his dad right there, that plan was dashed. Tim stuffed some packaged food into the pockets of his pajama pants, then grabbed a box of cereal and took it to the counter.

He tried not to look directly at his dad while he made himself a giant bowl of cereal. It was more than he’d normally eat, but if he ate it all, and what was in his pockets, he might be able to hole up in his room, at least until his parents went to bed. If they were getting up early, they’d be sleeping early too.

He did have to present his “please don’t make me marry this terrible person, not because you care in anyway for my well being or anything, but because it’ll probably turn out badly for you too” plan, though, and he’d have to do it before anything with Luthor was finalized. He couldn’t hide all day, unless he got it over with now.

Tim sat down at the island and took a few bites, trying to come up with a natural sounding conversation starter that wouldn’t get him berated, but he gave up quickly.

“Dad?” Tim tried.

Jack’s nose wrinkled in disgust, and Tim remembered all the “you’re not our son” stuff.

Tim lowered his head and tried again, trying to keep the hurt out of his tone and scent. “Sir.”

“What?”

Tim poked at his cereal with a waning appetite. “H-Have you decided who I’m going to marry?”

Tim chanced a quick glance to Jack, who seemed annoyed, but not violent as he had been before. Not yet, at least.

“You’ll marry who I tell you to marry, bitch,” Jack snarled.

Tim nodded obediently, then started tapping nervously on the counter.

“Cut that out,” Jack warned, and Tim stopped immediately.

“It’s just-” Tim took a deep breath and raised his head to meet his father’s eyes. “You know that Luthor is suspected of several murders, and of defrauding his business partners, right?”

Jack’s expression briefly flickered to surprise before the glower was back. “If you think that making up things is going to get you out of this-”

“It’s not that!” Tim rushed, and nearly panicked when he realized that he had just interrupted his dad, which would have landed him in a heap of trouble even before he had presented. He had less than five seconds before his dad exploded, though, and then he’d never get a word in edgewise, so Tim just went for it. “I have a lot of evidence on my computer. I’ll show it to you. I’m fine with anyone else, but I don’t think that Luthor is a-”

Jack stood with enough force to send his chair crashing to the floor, and he stormed toward Tim. Tim scrambled off his barstool and backed toward the door, watching his father with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he choked. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, sir, I just-”

Jack grabbed Tim by the throat and slammed him against the doorframe, hard. Tim cried out in pain, a second cry choked off when his dad tightened his grip. Tim could barely breathe, and tears of pain and fear sprang unbidden to his eyes. He can’t hurt me permanently, he wants that money, he can’t hurt me, he can’t hurt me.

That didn’t make it hurt any less as the hard wooden corners jabbed into his back and his father’s fingers dug deep into the flesh of his neck.

“You’ll marry who I tell you to marry, whether you like it or not,” Jack snarled, leaning in close to Tim’s face. Jack stopped, then closed his eyes and put his nose against Tim’s collarbone, right on the scent gland, and took a deep breath. “This, right here, is all you have anymore. This scent and this…” Jack’s free hand came up and rested on Tim’s chest, then began to trail, slowly and uncomfortably, down the front of Tim’s body.

“Dad?” Tim whimpered. Jack’s hand hit the waistband of Tim’s pajama pants and started to toy with it. “Dad?!”

Jack pulled back to look at Tim’s face, a lecherous gleam to his eye to match his vicious grin. His scent was shifting too, becoming muskier and stronger.

His dad was going into rut.

Jack’s hand started to tug Tim’s waistband lower and lower on his hips. “If you’re so scared of what Luthor’s going to do to you, maybe I should give you a preview.”

Tim grabbed his pants and tried to pull them up, but his dad growled at him and tugged more insistently.

“Dad, please don’t do this! Please!” Tim choked out.

Jack pressed his body against Tim’s, pinning him to the doorframe more effectively. His hand slid away from Tim’s throat, and he started sloppily mouthing Tim’s neck. “We wouldn’t want you to be scared when your new husband stakes his claim, would we?”

“Dad, please!” Tim’s protest and struggles were ineffectual. Both of his father’s hands lustily gripped the dips of his waist, the fingers tight enough to bruise, then slowly felt their way down Tim’s sides. He wasn’t going to stop. There was no way to stop him, no way to-

“MOM!” Tim screamed. Jack growled in annoyance and tried to cover Tim’s mouth, but Tim turned in time to scream once more before his dad clapped his hand across Tim’s face.

“Do you think she’s going to help you, Timmy? She might decide to join me in breaking you in,” Jack snapped.

But she wouldn’t, because his mom was a beta and not in rut, and she was smart enough to know that he was worth a lot more as a virgin. It was a big house, but if she had heard him, he might stand a prayer of not getting knotted by his dad. Jack knew that too, or he wouldn’t have covered Tim’s mouth.

Before Jack could resume his groping, Janet Drake rushed into the kitchen from another door. She took one look at Jack, then at Tim, and huffed in frustration.

“Jack, what in the world are you doing?” she snapped, storming over and pulling Jack off of Tim.

Tim’s knees gave out and he collapsed to the floor. He raised his trembling hands to cover his face and the silent tears of fear and relief that he couldn’t stop.

Janet dragged Jack a few paces away, keeping her body between the rutting alpha and the heat-stricken omega. “We offered Luthor a virgin omega. You know as well as I do what happens when people cheat Lex Luthor. If you could keep your instincts in check so that we don’t get ourselves killed, that would be quite satisfactory, dear.”

Jack growled, but it seemed a token protest. He clearly knew that his wife was right.

“I’m sure a little…practice, for the boy, wouldn’t hurt, don’t you think? Just touching,” Jack promised.

The trembling in Tim’s hands spread to the rest of his body and he nearly threw up.

“I’m your son!” Tim cried, unable to stop himself. Didn’t that count for anything?

Jack growled at him, but Janet silenced them both with a disapproving glower.

“Honestly, Timothy, you should have known better than to be around an alpha alone in your state. Why do you think I’ve stayed close to you during your heat? It certainly wasn’t the quality of the company,” Janet scoffed. “Omegas are a temptation to alphas in the best of conditions. In heat, they are nearly irresistible. Add to that the stress your father has been under, and of course he would be in an unfit state of mind. If you didn’t want to be assaulted, then you should have stayed in your room.”

Tim stared at her in horror. “B-but-”

“Go upstairs, Timothy,” Janet sighed.

Janet took Jack by the arm and led him away, leaving Tim a shaking, terrified mess. He had to make three attempts at standing before his ankles and knees agreed to hold him up, and even then, it was only long enough for him to stumble to the sink and vomit up everything he’d eaten.

They knew.

He leaned back, supporting himself with a white knuckled grip on the rim of the sink.

They knew that Luthor was dangerous for them, they had to know that he was also a danger to Tim, and they’d chosen to force him to marry Luthor anyway. There was no way out.

His sides tingled as phantom versions of his father’s hands grabbed his sides slid down to his hips. His stomach churned violently, and he barely leaned forward in time for the bile to land in the sink. He swiped the cuff of his sleeve across his mouth, but caught the scents of fear and rut that lingered where his sleeve had hit his father’s wrist scent gland, and he threw up again.

Finally, when there was truly nothing left in his stomach, Tim stood up. He didn’t rinse out the sink. It was a small, meaningless victory, but one of them would have to do it.

Walking up the stairs felt like climbing a mountain, even though it was only two flights. He couldn’t escape the sensation of his father’s hands sneaking up on him and grabbing him. He couldn’t stop the tears blurring his vision, either.

When he reached the third floor, he took a deep, shuddering breath, rubbing his hands up and down his sides to cover the feeling of hands. It helped, but the phantom fingers went deeper than his hands could hope to.

He practically ran into his bedroom, locked the door, and shoved his desk up against it. With that secure, he rushed into his bedroom and started pulling off his clothes, which he hated because now he was uncovered and even more vulnerable than before, but those clothes smelled unescapably like his father. He shoved them into the trash can, then stuffed a towel over them to stop it up.

Tim turned the water on as hot as it could go, then jumped into the spray and viciously scrubbed everywhere his father had touched, not even stopping when his skin was red and raw. He just wanted it to go away, but he could still feel him.

The tears that had been so quiet and manageable caught in Tim’s throat and he choked on a sob. If he couldn’t even trust his own father not to do this to him, and if he couldn’t trust his mother to save him for anything other than her own benefit, then who could he trust?

The sobs kept coming, wracking his whole body. He wanted to stop, so he could get out and get dressed and hide and not be so vulnerable, but he couldn’t do anything more than huddle miserably on the floor of the shower and cry, even as the burning hot water ran out and turned frigid.

He left his room once the rest of the day. He briefly napped, hidden under his bed, but it was a restless sleep and plagued by nightmares. He didn’t eat, either, but he dumped all the packaged food he’d stolen from the kitchen into his backpack, along with several pairs of dark clothes that would cover almost his whole body, a toothbrush, a sleeping bag, and all of his money.

He waited until he hear his parents in the kitchen for an early dinner, then sneaked into their room, found their wallets. About half of it was in foreign currency that he couldn’t use, but he got nearly three hundred American dollars between the two wallets. He considered taking the cards, too, but decided against it. If he got caught, that was a crime they could prove. They wouldn’t actually be able to prove that the cash he’d taken was theirs and not his allowance. He also found a box of scent blocking patches that his parents wore in business meetings, and took those too.

He quickly went back to his room, locked and barricaded the door, then waited. It was another hour or two before they made their way up to their bedroom. He gave it another hour, until it was nearly dark and he was sure that they were asleep.

Opening the window and swinging out onto the brick footholds for the last time should have felt awful. He should have had second thoughts, and then third and fourth thoughts, until he realized that his parents were not as bad as he thought, and climbed back inside and then never speak of his aborted runaway attempt again.

But it didn’t.

Gotham was a dangerous city, especially for packless children and omegas, but it was far more home than his house was. Gotham, for all its faults, would hide him from his parents, and his marriage. He could do odd jobs, maybe forge some papers and pretend to be older than he was to get hired some place, or even just steal. It didn’t even matter anymore, but he was never letting an alpha touch him again.

[concussed-to-pieces]

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Eight

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm

The morale of the troops stationed at the airport seemed to have improved massively . Backhand secretly suspected that having Brandis back had raised everyone's spirits, but she wasn't about to say it out loud.

  Danse had been quiet for the remainder of their journey to the Prydwen, back to thinking a hole in the proverbial wall. Vega assumed he was probably just exhausted; he had already been awake and eager to move out by the time she roused herself that morning. She couldn't blame him. His power armor was long overdue for a greasing and she knew it wasn't an easy feat to move it with sticky bearings. Danse refused to take breaks though, simply chugging along at a steady trudge that she could match with ease. 

  They had agreed to skip a breakfast proper in lieu of eating on the march. A few stunted mutfruit that clung to a scrubby little bush beside the lean-to made their way into their stomachs, and Danse managed to acquire a box of Saddle Up when he gave the collapsed house next to the lean-to a cursory once-over. The two of them split the contents of the box, Danse folding his portion of Salisbury steak in half and tearing a piece out of it with his teeth like it was jerky. 

  Backhand followed suit, though a bit slower, trying to make the tough 'meat' last. She couldn't help but daydream about yesterday's breakfast, the tender meat of the radstag tossed with the soft tatos…

  Regardless of her rumbling stomach, she was glad to be back at the airport. With any luck, she'd be able to speak with Proctor Ingram and get her input on the schematics Virgil and Sturges had come up with. What was it that Nick had said?

  " Just a few more steps ."

  Danse touched her shoulder after they disembarked the vertibird on the flight deck. "I have to go deliver my armor to Ingram and then give Elder Maxson my report, Knight Vega. I suggest you locate Paladin Brandis so that you may retrieve your armor."

  Backhand saluted him sharply, tacking on the Ad Victoriam! at the end. Danse smiled with his eyes, but his face remained stern. 

  "Report to the grease pit once you're finished eating, Knight. Dismissed."

  "How did you know I was-?"

  "If I'm hungry, I imagine you are as well." Danse reasoned, "we ate lightly this morning and it's well past noon. Go get something to eat."

  "Yes sir , Paladin sir!" Backhand replied eagerly, bolting off. 

  Her boots clattered on the metal gangways as she strode towards the mess, ducking and dodging around armored knights and aspirants. Along the way, she heard the whispers that followed her.

  " Hey wasn't that the new sister? "

  " Her and Paladin Danse brought Paladin Brandis back to us! "

  " I heard Knight Vega is the General of the Minutemen -"

  " You're nuts , why would she join up with us if she's already in charge of somethin'? "

  Backhand did her best to ignore the ever-present circulation of scuttlebutt, the young woman making her way to the canteen with sure steps.

  …

  Praise be to whatever God still looked after mankind, Danse found himself redirected to Knight-Captain Cade before he could even think about going to the command deck. Ingram demanded that he submit to a thorough exam after she saw the level of damage his suit bore, and Danse wasn't about to tell a proctor no. If he relayed his briefing to Cade, Danse knew he could circumvent visiting Maxson directly. 

  "Ah, Danse! I'd heard you were back." Cade greeted the paladin hovering in the doorway, waving him in. "What brings you here, Paladin? More troubles of the heart?" He teased.

  Danse jerked to a halt. 

  Troubles of the heart? The words bounced around in his skull, demanding to be examined and oh God. Oh God , that's what had been wrong with him before! Danse wanted to beat his head against the wall. He hadn't been sick at all, not physically anyway. No wonder Cade had been so damned amused at all of his protesting.

  He forced himself to chuckle at the joke, forced himself to keep moving. Inside though, he wanted to scream. 'Troubles of the heart'. Love , as if he deserved to be able to so much as feel that emotion! As if he deserved anything after Cutler, after the catastrophic failure of Recon Squad Gladius!

  It was with panic that he thought back to that morning, to being calm and serene while he just... looked at her and...oh God no , he couldn't do this again. He wouldn't . 

  He shouldn't. 

  But…

  No! Think about what happened with Cutler! Think about what Arthur will do if he perceives her as a threat! Danse raged at himself. Don't be selfish for once in your damn life, she needs the Brotherhood and the Brotherhood needs her to get into the Institute. That's all . Don't make things more complicated, damn it!  

  All Danse could think about was her face right after he had found her lying on the ground in a pool of her own blood at Fort Independence, the desperate way she had entreated him.

  "- find my baby -" 

  Was she just trying to appeal to his sympathies? Danse could freely admit the compassionate nature he tried to bury had gotten him into more trouble than he would like over the years. But had she been playing the long game with that kiss at the police station? Certainly, if the Brotherhood hadn't caught their signal it would have been no skin off of her nose, she could move on to a new target. But since the Prydwen had shown up…

  Had Backhand attempted to get into his good graces just so she could get a better shot at saving her son? 

  As much as that reality would sting, he was unable to blame her for it. Danse already knew just how far he would go for his Brotherhood brothers and sisters, he couldn't even fathom what depths he would stoop to if he was trying to rescue his theoretical child. 

  Cade looked up from his clipboard. "What's wrong, Paladin? You look like you've seen a ghost."

  "I'm just...tired." Danse replied lamely. "Hungry." He swiftly changed the subject. "How is Brandis?"

  Cade leaned forward in his seat, unable to hide his clear interest. "I don't know how you managed to convince him to return, but he's doing remarkably well. We have him on a strengthening regiment, his body had been wracked by the radiation. Your knight surrendering her armor was a smart move."

  Your knight. Danse swallowed hard. "She is thoughtful." He said cautiously. Too much praise and it would be obvious that something was afoot, but too little could also tip the scales unfavorably. He found himself maneuvering a tightrope between his usual blunt honesty and this new, strange territory. 

  Many of the rank and file looked up to Danse due to his combat prowess and unflinching resolve. The paladin, in turn, was not necessarily overly free with his praise, but he tended to be more generous. A leftover from slogging along under Krieg's command, if Danse had to guess. The older paladin had cultivated Danse's eagerness to please into an unflagging tenacity through methods that were occasionally viewed as barbaric, but no one could fault his results. Still though, Danse wanted to be a fair leader, not a warlord or a tyrant who brought out the best in his troops through extreme duress.

  Had he been more like Krieg, maybe Gladius wouldn't have-- no , thinking that way would only drive him into a darker depression.

  He realized suddenly that Cade was giving him a quizzical look and Danse tried not to let his panic show. If Cade sussed him out, Vega would no doubt be reassigned. Maybe to Brandis? Hell, she would get the old codger killed -

  Cade got to his feet, asking Danse to follow his penlight with his eyes. The paladin obeyed, stifling a yawn as he did. "Still having trouble sleeping?" Cade asked calmly. "The headaches and nightmares?"

  "They come and go." Danse admitted. "I rarely sleep well, sir."

  "It's to be expected after everything you've gone through, Danse. You need to give yourself time , perhaps even take some leave-"

  Danse was already shaking his head, his hands clenched into fists on his thighs. "With all due respect sir, there is too much at stake in the Commonwealth."

  "And with even more respect, Paladin, you're working yourself into an early grave. Even earlier than you might anticipate. I'm well aware of your history and your mentality when it comes to the Brotherhood, but you need to consider the ramifications of your high-output lifestyle." Cade reasoned with a frown. "You'll burn yourself out at this rate. Hell, you might have already! Pay attention to your body, soldier. If you need to rest, then rest ." He placed a hand on Danse's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. "You're no good to the Brotherhood dead, Danse."

  Danse nodded stiffly down at the floor. "Understood, sir." He then began to give his field report, Cade occasionally stopping him to ask for points of clarification.

  …

  Ingram hummed at the terminal, her eyes darting back and forth as she read through the information that scrolled across the screen. 

  "Okay. Okay alright, yeah. Your friend is a genius, but he's a bit of a savant. Gotta' tell him to branch out." She mumbled, almost like she was talking to herself. "Write this down for me, manipulating a pen in this suit is a terrible time."

  Backhand quickly accepted the clipboard Ingram pushed her way, hope rising in her heart as the proctor rattled off different statistics and theories about teleportation. Ingram expanded on Sturges' prior reasonings exponentially, seeming almost as excited as Backhand was at the plethora of new data to browse. Through a series of notes and ruler-lined diagrams, the proctor helped to fill in the gaps that Sturges had been struggling with. 

  "Of course, this is all speculation." Ingram sighed finally, sounding a little dejected. "If the Institute was really at the level of actual molecular reconstruction via relay, I get the idea that the Prydwen wouldn't still be in the air." She smiled at Backhand. "But hey, tell your friend 'thanks' from an old proctor. It was fun to think about. I don't get a lot of interesting or challenging data anymore, so this was a nice change of pace. If he ever wants to come aboard and talk shop, let me know and I'll try to get Maxson to give him a 'visitor's pass'."

  Vega was flabbergasted. Ingram apparently believed that Sturges just had limitless free time on his hands to flesh out such wild theories. She didn't think that any of it was real! The young woman collected herself after a moment, trying to think up an appropriate response. "I'll--I'll definitely let him know! I'm sure having someone intelligent to bounce his ideas off of will do him wonders." She promised, returning Ingram's smile. "He tends to leave me in the dust once he really gets going."

  Ingram groaned theatrically. "Ah, the burden of genius! Heavy is the head that wears the crown, you know how it is. It's times like these that I miss the hell out of Doctor Li."

  "Who was Doctor Li?"

  "Ah, she was one of our scientists back in the big CW. Worked on a lot of important stuff for the Brotherhood. Then one day she just kinda'-" Ingram gestured vaguely. "-went poof. Nobody ever heard from her again."

  Backhand had only been half-listening as she leafed through the notes, carefully collecting them all into a neat pile and stowing them in her satchel. But at the proctor's admission that their doctor had vanished , the former Vault-dweller straightened up. She squinted at Ingram. " Poof? "

  Ingram nodded. "Yep. Gone like she was never there. I personally think, after hearing about how the Institute operates, that our lead scientist got poached." She shrugged, her armor frame creaking loudly. "But that's just me. For all I know, Madison got bored."

  Backhand chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. Stealing a brilliant scientist from their chief opposition made sense. But she still had no idea why the Institute would have taken her son of all people.

  "Oh! Your armor, I almost forgot. Brandis had me tuck it away in bay six." Ingram said suddenly, hooking a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the bay. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some serious work ahead of me to unfuck Danse's gear. 'Outstanding', my ass ." She griped. "Man's got a death wish."

  Backhand tried valiantly to choke back her laughter at Ingram's exaggerated impression of Danse's " outstanding ", but failed miserably.

  "Ah, I see you too must have witnessed the fabled ' outstanding '?" Ingram chuckled. "It's his trademark, great stuff."

  "I am pleased to know that you find my speech patterns amusing , Proctor Ingram." Danse's voice made Backhand squeak. The paladin sauntered up beside Ingram, still ripping apart what looked like an entire pot pie. 

  "Danse! I see you still can't take a breather, even if it's only to eat." Ingram remarked pointedly, rolling her eyes. "You couldn't have sat down in the mess hall, Paladin?" 

  "Time is of the essence, Proctor." Danse said through a mouthful of tough crust. Backhand had grabbed a slice of it when she was in the mess. The filling wasn't half bad, but whoever had made the shell had worked their dough for far too long. Obviously Danse wasn't letting that stop him.

  "Danse it's gonna' take my scribes a hot minute just to get all the dents out, nevermind the greasing. Do me a favor, take your knight and go to Proctor Teagan for a new helmet." Ingram shooed the paladin off, rolling her eyes at Backhand. "A fine example for our troops, as long as they don't watch you eat ."

  "They should not be watching me eat to begin with-" Danse started to protest.

  " Danse . Go to Teagan."

  …

  Finding Paladin Brandis conversing with Teagan shouldn't have come as a surprise to Danse. After all, Brandis loved his armor and mods. It was odd to see the older paladin all cleaned up once again, the sides of his head uniformly shaved and his facial hair back to the semi-standard goatee.

  "Danse!" Brandis greeted him warmly and Danse wished that he didn't have crumbs all over his jumpsuit. He was startled when the other man hauled him into a hug, slapping him on the back. "It's good to see you in one piece, Paladin! I heard about what happened with your armor. It's always a trial if you have to abandon your gear." Brandis' smile was broad but his eyes were sad. 

  Danse swallowed, nodding in agreement. "Are we interrupting your discussion, Paladin Brandis?" 

  "Not at all! I was just about to stop monopolizing Teagan's time."

  "Brandis, the last thing you're doing is monopolizing." Proctor Teagan groaned, leaning his elbows on the counter. He perked up when Backhand scooted out around Danse. "New Blood! You're back in one piece!" 

  "Takes more than a sure-fail mission to locate a man who's been missing for over five years to stop me, Proctor Teagan." Knight Vega replied, giving him a salute as he laughed.

  "Now, Danse, what's this I hear about you half-scuttling your gear?" Teagan chided the large paladin. "You're lucky we like you around here, you know that?"

  Danse chuckled, nodding. "I'm well aware, Proctor. I must requisition a new helmet."

  "Psh, you think I'll have one that'll fit that big head of yours? We'll have to see." Teagan ribbed him, turning away from the counter and beginning to rummage in his crates.

  Danse heard the sound of small footfalls and abruptly Brandis was assaulted by one of the squires. "Paladin Brandis!" The child exclaimed, like he had just discovered the paladin. 

  "Yes, little one?" Brandis asked, taking the boy's cap off to ruffle his unruly blond curls. Danse caught himself wondering what young Matthew would be like as a squire. Would he be more quiet, prone to scribe work? Or would he still be mischievous, going places where he shouldn't, eventually donning a suit of power armor to defend him from the consequences of said mischief?

  And Backhand's own child, her Shaun. When they rescued him, what would he be like? He assumed she must also think about that, obviously more than he would. 

  Danse realized belatedly that Brandis had continued his conversation with the boy, the child rattling on and on to the paladin about being allowed to feed Scribe Neriah's mole rats. Danse just barely caught Knight Vega's wistful smile before Teagan was clattering a familiar helmet down on the counter. "And here it is! One brain bucket, complete with intact searchlight." The proctor announced proudly, sliding the requisition form over for Danse to sign. "I expect you to take better care of this one, Paladin. Knight, make sure he takes better care of this one." Teagan instructed, narrowing his eyes.

  Vega snapped another salute, "yes sir, Proctor sir!"

  "Where are you off to now, Danse?" Brandis asked curiously, the squire still clinging to his leg.

  "Well, as Knight Vega is in a probationary phase, I imagine we'll assist Scribe Neriah. Perhaps Proctor Quinlan has a job for us." Danse mused, scribbling DN-407P on the form. "I don't believe we'll be sent out with the rest of Gladius anytime soon. I ought to check in on them."

  "Recon Squad Gladius returned last night, sir!" The squire informed him with a clumsy salute. "They should be at the ground barracks, sir!"

  " Outstanding ." Danse said warmly, then he heard Backhand wheeze with laughter. "Oh, be quiet." He huffed, nudging her side with his elbow. 

  …

  Danse had left her to her own devices, stating that he would be checking in on the remainder of his squadron for the evening. 

  " If you'd like to pick up a few small assignments, I will be happy to assist you with them as I continue to sponsor you ." 

  So after a brief logistical kerfuffle that found her standing in Cade's doorway instead of Quinlan's, Backhand managed to get herself assigned to the illustrious task of rustling up technical documents. "My scribes do so enjoy their reading material." Proctor Quinlan remarked, seeming amused by the way the young woman fawned over Emmett. "If you locate anything you believe could be of interest, please bring it to me. A good soldier knows that an unanticipated edge is the preferred one."

  "Of course sir." 

  Backhand did feel just a bit guilty about using Proctor Ingram as Sturges' sounding board, but in her defense she had planned on telling the other woman the truth. It just was a little less... messy for the moment if Ingram didn't know everything.

  Vega knew she could ask Codsworth about technical documents once she got back to Sanctuary. The robot hadn't left the cul-de-sac for over two hundred years; he probably had an itemized list of every thing in every house . And since the Hills had been styled as veteran housing, there was bound to be a few items of interest. Plus, it was the perfect excuse to return to Sanctuary so she could fling all of Ingram's notes at Sturges. Fingers crossed that the genius could make sense of them.

  Backhand was tired of wasting time, tired of spinning her wheels. But she knew that the more she helped, the more people would be willing to help her when the time came. Having the numbers of an outfitted army on her side in case of something going wrong was an immense comfort, and it helped to soothe her worries. The familiarity of it didn't hurt either. The Minutemen were slowly becoming a force to be reckoned with, but their humble beginnings could be a bit glaring . This was the next best option.

  So she'd rifle through the debris of Sanctuary Hills one more time. The required company of Danse was more of a bonus than a detriment, in her opinion. She could keep him clear of the Prydwen a lot easier when they were halfway across the world from the airport. 

  Ingram's words echoed in her head, not for the first time since Danse had been assigned as her sponsor. 

  "... Danse is a good man and he shouldn't be getting jerked around, Elder or no ."

  Backhand frowned, tipping herself out from behind her armor in bay six. Her eyes landed on Danse's suit standing empty across the way as two scribes slowly coaxed the dents out of it. God, the damage had been sobering in the first place, but looking at it now was almost worse. The frame looked tired . 

  " That's Paladin Danse's armor?"

  Backhand jumped at the whisper from beside her. She hadn't heard the squire approach. "Yup. Crazy, huh?"

  "Is he...is he okay?" The little girl asked timidly, wide brown eyes staring up at Vega. 

  "He is! He's fine, I promise." Backhand patted the child's shoulder gently. "I helped him out, fixed him up real good."

  "Okay." The girl nodded, looking thoughtful. "Paladin Brandis is okay too. That's good. He's important." 

  "'Important', huh?" Backhand echoed, knowing she must sound bemused. This little girl was just being so serious , like she was trying to seem more adult. It was sweet, in a sad way. A testament to the burden put on these kids at such a young age.

  "Yes." The little girl puffed herself up a bit. "We need Paladin Brandis. He's important ."

  "Why is he important?" Backhand queried curiously. 

  "We…" the squire hesitated, like she had said too much. "He just is. I can't tell you. S'a secret."

  Backhand gave the child a salute, nodding. "Of course. Don't worry, I won't compromise your mission." 

  "W-Well, good!" She stuttered, adjusting her cap and giving Backhand a salute in return. "Ad Victoriam, knight. I gotta' go." She scampered off, leaving Backhand confused and somewhat entertained.

  He's important . 

  As she tucked in for the night, Backhand wondered what the child had meant. Was the squire being needlessly cryptic? Maybe she had overheard something she wasn't supposed to? 

  Backhand stared up at the dimly-lit innards of the Prydwen, the ribs of the massive airship barely visible in the dark. Another mystery , she mused ruefully. Her return to Sanctuary couldn't come soon enough.

  …

  Danse was summoned to the command deck at six hundred hours the following morning. He should have known that he wouldn't even be able to enjoy the company of Haylen and Rhys without suffering some kind of consequence.

  He hated how sweaty his palms were as he stood at attention, his back ramrod straight.

  "Paladin Danse, I was given your briefing yesterday by Knight-Captain Cade. Is there any particular reason you didn't come to me personally?" Arthur asked, sounding almost bored. Danse might have believed it if not for the current of anger that rasped in his voice.

  "Proctor Ingram sent me directly to Cade, Elder Maxson. My armor was in poor shape and she was concerned about my bodily state." The paladin replied evenly.

  "Brandis showed up well before you did. Why is that, Danse?"

  "Local civilians informed myself and Knight Vega of a super mutant infestation. It was during our assault on the compound that my armor took the damage. I needed time to repair-"

  Danse's explanation was cut off by the sound of heavy boots on the large ladder between decks. Brandis of all people emerged from the porthole, offering Danse a quick nod before focusing his attention on Maxson. "Elder! I have a request for flight support from-"

  "Brandis, how many times do I have to tell you not to interrupt me?" Arthur snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  "And how many times do I have to tell you that nothing about the military is convenient or willing to wait on your long-winded tomfoolery?" Brandis retorted. "I have a knight requesting flight support, Maxson, and the presence of Paladin Danse."

  "Me?" Danse asked in confusion.

  Elder Maxson growled, then nodded. "Very well . I suppose your report from Cade will have to do. But in the future , Paladin Danse, I expect you in person on the command deck. Do I make myself clear?"

  "Of course, Elder." Danse saluted dutifully. "Ad Victoriam." Arthur just waved him off, obviously irritated. 

  Once they had returned to the engineering deck, Brandis clapped Danse on the shoulder. "Sorry about that, I didn't realize that he would try for you so early!" He apologized. "Knight Vega has been rarin' since five. I know he denied you air support before, but Vega said you two have a long ways to go for the assignment she picked up from Quinlan. It's easier to get something out of that little curmudgeon if you baffle him with rapid-fire requests."

  Danse sputtered, unsure if he had ever heard someone refer to the elder as a little curmudgeon . "I am glad that your respect for Elder Maxson is just as strong as ever, Paladin Brandis." He managed to say.

  "Arthur has gotten too big for a combination of his britches, his father's britches, and his grandfather's britches." Brandis chuckled, "it does him good to get brought back down to earth once in a while." He straightened up, giving Danse a gentle push in the direction of the armor bay. "Now go, go go get suited up before he changes his mind!" The older paladin urged impatiently.

  Danse noted when he reached the grease pit that Vega's armor was gone. Obviously she had wanted to get an early start. Danse grimaced ruefully, zipping up his jumpsuit. No matter what he did, it seemed to be the wrong thing. He wished he could go back to his bunk and try again in an hour or so. 

  He shook his head, then stepped into his armor. The gaskets hissed as the unit was sealed, the back plate latching down firmly. Danse picked up his new helmet, absently flipping it out of habit and then sliding it onto his head until it clicked into the gorget seal. The heads-up display flickered to life in front of his eyes, all readings nominal. Green across the board , as Lancer-Captain Kells would say.

  His heavy sabatons clunking firmly on the metal catwalks, Danse made his way to the flight deck.

  Backhand was there, her helmet tucked under her arm as she chatted animatedly with the pilot that ( presumably ) was taking them to their location. Danse still had no idea what their assignment was. Hell, he didn't even know if there was an assignment or if this was all just a conspiracy cooked up by Vega and Brandis to get him away from Maxson.

  A combination of embarrassment and gratitude flushed Danse's face beneath his helmet. He was relatively sure that neither of them knew what was truly going on between himself and Maxson. Maybe they had assumed the worst, thought that he was being abused or something to that effect. But it wasn't... really , technically. He was following orders. Orders that made him sick to his stomach and hot with shame, but he was a Brotherhood soldier and he would do as the elder commanded him.

  "Glad to see you taking initiative, Knight Vega." Danse commented loudly over the roar of the vertibird engine. 

  "Paladin! Good to see you bright and early. We have our heading from Proctor Quinlan, and I know just the place. This fine gal will be droppin' us off in Concord." Backhand explained and the pilot grinned, waving off the praise and gesturing for the two of them to climb aboard.

  …

  Backhand was practically vibrating with excitement when they finally touched down just outside of Concord. She was off and running down the main thoroughfare, leaving Danse to catch up with her.

  "Knight Vega!" The paladin protested.

  "Time is of the essence, Paladin!" Backhand yelled in reply, slowing briefly to a jog. 

  "Where are we even going , Vega?" Danse shouted. She didn't bother to answer, just making a sweeping motion with her arm as if to say hurry up! "I fail to see the strategic advantage of the two of us careening through the town like a stampede of brahmin!"

  "Just follow me and stop complaining!" Backhand laughed, maintaining her pace up the hill to the Red Rocket gas station. She paused at the top, waiting for Danse to come up alongside her before she pointed across the river. "Look." She said, a little breathless.

  Danse obliged, the paladin going still. "Another settlement?"

  "This is where I lived before the war." Backhand informed him, "Sanctuary Hills."

  Danse made a noise of acknowledgment, shifting his weight. "And the reason why we're here?" He pressed after a moment.

  Backhand smiled under her helmet, patting his shoulder. "Technical documents. Not only was this little development just teeming with ex-military, if that's not good enough my vault is up the hill."

  He was silent for a time and Backhand was getting a little worried that she had upset him somehow, but then out of the blue, " outstanding , Knight Vega." The warmth in his tone was unmistakable and she couldn't even bring herself to make a joke about his trademark term, too flustered by his praise to do anything aside from nod and start walking across the old bridge.

  Dogmeat came galloping to greet her, the mutt barking excitedly and fawning around her legs after she ejected from her power armor. "Hey Meat! Who's a good boy? Who's the best boy?" Backhand crooned, giving him belly rubs when he begged for them. 

  "Ah, Miss Vega! It is, as always, a delight to have you return to us. You look well!" Codsworth bubbled, the Mister Handy breezing over to her from his usual spot maintaining the patchy hedges. "And who is this that you've brought with you? Will I need to set an extra plate at dinner?" He inquired, two out of three eyestalks gazing up at the impassive paladin. 

  "Codsworth, this is Paladin Danse. I hope you can help the two of us out with a little project." Backhand said seriously, tapping her forehead against the cool metal of Codsworth's third eye. 

  The robot sputtered, "But of course , mum! Whatever the two of you need, if there's any way at all that I might assist you, I shall do my best." He waved his appendages around, mimicking a fighting stance. "Are there more ruffians about, mum? More interlopers? Has the Red Menace finally come to our doorstep? I'll give them a thorough drubbing, just send them my way!" He said staunchly.

  Backhand chuckled, shaking her head. "Nothing quite as exciting as all that, Codsworth. My friend works for a group that's dedicated to curating and preserving technology, and we were sent out expressly to find documents that might be useful. I know you've been here for a while, and I was hoping that you might-"

  "Oh, if it's old, musty, suspicious documents you're after, Miss Vega, I must say you've come to the right place!" Codsworth lowered his voice conspiratorially, "why, I've got it on good faith that your neighbor was a dirty commie spy! " He sounded scandalized. "Mr. Sturges says that I am too quick to jump to conclusions, but can you even imagine-? "

  "Codsy, if I told you once I told you a thousand times, don ' t you be puttin' words in my mouth!" Sturges shouted from his usual position by the workbench, giving Backhand a friendly wave. "Howdy General, how was your vacation?"

  "A nightmare." Vega admitted, "Weston was infested all over again." 

  "Oo, that's a tough place to get a handle on. I assume you got it sorted though? I mean, you're the general for a reason." The man mused, wiping his hands off on a rag and cocking his head. "So this is the fella' from the police station? Land sakes, you didn't skimp on your description." He teased, making Backhand wince self-consciously as he sauntered over. "I know Preston's got mixed feelin's on the Brotherhood, but I figure any heavily-armored port in a radstorm, right?" 

  Sturges stopped in front of Danse, squinting up at the man's helmet. Danse removed it after a moment, the seal hissing and steaming a little in the cool morning air. "Paladin Danse, Brotherhood of Steel." He intoned, extending one large gauntlet to the mechanic.

  Sturges chuckled, gamely shaking the massive hand presented to him. "Sturges. I fix things. Suppose that'd be an engineer or a mechanic to you military folks."

  "Speaking of fixing things..." Backhand dug into her satchel, tugging free the ream of notes she had from Ingram. "I brought you a present!" She sang, passing the incomprehensible sheaf of paper to the other man.

  Sturges whistled after flipping through the first few pages, his eyebrows launching up until they were hidden by his goggles. "Damn, this is good. General, this is real good. Like, ' we might pull this off ' kinda' good!" He said giddily. 

  "Yeah?" Backhand replied eagerly. "Danse and I will be here for a few days, so if Jun or Marcy are busy-"

  "I'll ask you, of course. Thanks for this, General. It really helps to have an extra pair of eyes lookin' over my work." Sturges drawled sincerely. 

  "How is Mama Murphy doing?" Vega asked, twiddling her fingers nervously.

  "She got up earlier this mornin'! She came out and had her coffee with me. I'd say she's doin' better. Shorin' herself up." Sturges smiled. "We got a lifetime of chem problems to work through, y'know, so I ain't expectin' any overnight miracles."

  "Yeah, I guess not." Backhand frowned. "I still wish there was more I could do."

  Sturges put a hand on her arm. "You done more than enough, General. More than most folks would have. Don't worry about Mama Murphy. She's a tough ol' gal."

  …

  Evening fell over the settlement and Danse was grateful for the opportunity to simply rest his eyes. He knew why Quinlan had such thick glasses now. He had only dug into one box of documents and his head was still spinning from all the fine print!

  Backhand yawned, eyes lidding and mouth going slack with the effort. "God, I am beat ." She confessed, laughing a little. "It's pretty sad that all it takes to get me braindead is reading about failed observations and leafing through old refrigerator manuals."

  "I find the manuals miles more interesting. I've always enjoyed that sort of practical research." Danse remarked. "It has real-life applications in the field, but these other things…" he heaved a sigh. "I wish Haylen had been permitted to come along with us. She is far more adept when it comes to cataloging. I was not trained as a scribe."

  "Well, I would say we should burn the midnight oil, but I'm pretty sure we've both got mush for brains right now." Vega got to her feet, taking a moment for a full-body stretch. "We can get back to this tomorrow. Right now, I'm hungry."

  "Dinner will be ready in a moment, mum!" Codsworth assured from his spot just outside the front door, continuing to rotate the meat on its spit over the fire.

  Danse abruptly realized that he was starving , the delicious smell of the roasting yao guai making his stomach rumble. It had been hours since they had eaten, and he had been so focused on the task at hand that he hadn't even noticed. He neatly collected the papers spread out on the floor and shuffled them all together, placing them on top of the boxes Vega had already made her way through. 

  Truthfully, this neighborhood had been a hotbed of observation and it made him feel a little antsy now that he didn't have the mind-numbing documents to distract him. It was foolish to be concerned about such things, Danse told himself. Anyone who might have been observing this area was long dead. It wasn't as if he and Backhand would be spirited away in the night by 'the men in suits'. Although...it was a little disconcerting to realize that those occurrences were considered normal back in the pre-war era.

  Knight Vega, oblivious to his inner quandary, was digging through the rickety refrigerator. "You want a Nuka? Or a beer?" She asked.

  Danse opened his mouth. Hesitated. Bought himself time by climbing upright and doing his own series of light stretches. One beer was surely acceptable in the field? Surely? He had known many a commanding officer that hadn't let their duties stop them from getting intoxicated. It had been a short eternity since he had imbibed any spirits. 

  Surely just one would be alright. "Beer, please." 

  In a motion so fluid it must have been muscle memory, Vega hooked the cap of the beer on the edge of the battered formica counter and quickly slammed it down, prying off the top with ease. "Cheers, Paladin." She tipped the bottle to him and Danse caught it around the neck, nodding his thanks before taking a long drink. 

  Being alone was dangerous in the field, he mused for the hundredth time, as it made him neglect his own needs. He hadn't even noticed that he was hungry or thirsty until Backhand insisted that they pause for the evening. Danse couldn't even count the amount of nights Haylen or Rhys had to force him to stop patrolling the police station so he would get some rest. It was just so easy for him to sink into a rut, a routine, ignoring everything else in favor of it. 

  Her own Nuka Cola received the same treatment, foaming up a little in protest. Backhand laughed, hurrying to gulp the soda down before it overflowed. 

  "Where will I be bunking for the evening, Knight Vega?" Yes, Danse was technically in charge, technically her sponsor, but this was her house. He wasn't so bold to presume that he would be permitted to sleep wherever he wanted.

  Backhand tapped her lips with the Nuka Cola bottle as she appeared to think. "I mean, we can haul a bed into here for you? I imagine you don't want to sleep on the floor." She reasoned.

  "I would rather not, if there is an available bed." Danse agreed, grimacing. 

  "Alright, after dinner me and Sturges can grab one of the extra beds." 

  "Alternatively, you can direct me to it and I can move it myself." Danse didn't mean to sound so petulant, but he hardly needed another man and his ward to accomplish a task he should be more than capable of. Backhand began to laugh, her mirth making Danse scowl self-consciously. " What? " He finally muttered.

  "Nothing! Nothing at all. I will absolutely take you to the bed ." Backhand sputtered.

  Danse took a moment to consider her words, and a reluctant smile disrupted his stoic expression. "Honestly Knight, you are incorrigible ." He huffed, unable to bite back his own chuckle at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. Here they were, laughing like aspirants over some inadvertently ribald humor. He felt foolish, though not necessarily in a bad way. "Yes yes, Knight Vega, take me to bed." He announced, outstretching a hand to her. "Next thing you know, you'll be making jokes about sleeping together." 

  His heart raced when she winked at him. "We've already done that, keep up Paladin!"

Part Nine

[feather-dancer]

Trollhunters Fanfic Recommendations - Part 2

My original fanfic recommend post seems to have exploded in notes which is a little bewildering if I’m honest. Since then I’ve stumbled over more I have enjoyed thanks to a couple other recc posts doing the rounds, a few I forgot to list and new ones that have appeared on AO3

Want to see the original recommendations post? You can find it here!

General Trollhunters

Love, we hold on together - Jilaire post Season 3 and very cute and fluffy.

Young Atlas - Season 1 finale with Jim and wandering into the unknown to do the right thing.

Hope (or something a little bit like it) - A take on what it was like for Dictatious  when he was pulled into the Darklands when Gunmar was sealed away.

Partners - Season 1 finale with Toby’s thoughts of his bestie going off without him.

Family - Season 1 AARRRGGHH thoughts and everything he’d do for his current and newly adopted family.

Family History In The Context of the Parallel Development of a Relationship as Told Through a Trollmarket Dwelling - Just as it says on the tin.

Under the Sun — Part One: The White Rabbit  - Oh what wonders could Otto have seen and done long before we met him in the modern day? Learning he hates the cold and snow, for one, and someone seriously needs to get him glasses pronto.

The Devil and the deep blue sea - A retrospective on Walter Strickler/Stricklander and missed chances.

Talking About Teenage Angst: For Dummies! - Steli fic with Coach being wonderful and things going rather pear shaped one night.

Sticky Notes - Another Steli fic, this one is very cute fluff with post-its.

~~~

Stricklake

We'll Meet Again - I think the actual summary sums it up better than I can: Perhaps there is no such thing as love at first sight, but what about second or third or fourth or…?

The Festival of Nauna - It’s time for a Troll festival post Season 3 and naturally Not!Enrique “helps” things along in regards to Strickler and Barbara’s still strained relationship. Also contains Strickler who likely has lasting fears of being summoned by gnomes and good old changeling banter.

Fallout - Jim for a time saw Strickler as a father figure he never had, it turns out however he might have been closer to the truth than either had realised. Secrets don’t stay so forever though, be they true parentage or the slight issue of somebody not being human.

Like for Like, Echo for Echo - IT TURNS OUT An Amorous Attack (The hilarious Draal reporting in to Jim) fic had a sequel and I had no idea! We heard from the troll what happened but it’s not quite the same as hearing from the actual culprits.

misc. trollhunters prompts -  Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst, who knows what you’ll find! Also includes Rebecoming which is an AU that makes me yell in good ways. Then Organised Knowledge made me yell even more.

Stricklake: Stones Through A Lake - Stricklake prompts! Contains fluff, angst and all that good stuff.

almost (you) me - In Unbecoming, what if Strickler had glimpses of a life he could have had if things had just happened a little differently?

The Strawberry Shortcake Chronicles - A collection from the fluffy to uh higher rated? Following the long relationship of Walter Strickler and Barbara Lake through it’s ups, the downs, the dawning realisation of falling for someone and of scenarios that are just adorable to behold. And then Strickler fucks up.

Good Morning Arcadia Oaks! - Put it under this section as two of these ARE actually Stricklake which are incredibly fluffy and delightful and the other one is AARRRGGHH having a job and I love them very much. The newest one is god please let this idiot teach again I need it in my life.

~~~

Alternate Universes

Eventide - An absolutely DELIGHTFUL Gang!AU. Fear the renegade teenagers, they WILL break into your house and make you toast.

Eclipsing Daylight - Jim has spent 6 months in the Darklands instead of two weeks before his rescue and brings a whole lot of trauma, emotional baggage and nightmares home with him. This is the fic that made me feel less bad about Ghost!AU as he’s severely put through the wringer here. Heeding the content warnings is a must.

Lasting Repercussions - His fellow Trollhunters were a bit too late rescuing Jim in the Darklands and the Decimaar blade did... something to him before Gunmar was punched away. With visions and thoughts distinctly not his own Jim has an extra thing on his plate he didn’t ask for but perhaps it could also be turned into an advantage.

A Fantastic Upheaval - Barbara meets her unexpected basement lodger and nothing short of sheer shenanigans ensue.

Works in Progress - Three unlikely friends meet one by one in a hospital, none of them are okay but maybe, just maybe, they can help each other on the road to recovery.

My Only Sunshine  - What if Jim was trolled as a five year old thanks to a (Presumed) magical bath bomb? By luck he turns back into a human but only while the sun is up which leads to both mother and son scrabbling to deal with this awful situation while also trying desperately to keep anybody uncovering their secret lest the worst happens to Jim. Expect to feel emotions, a lot of them, and just wanting things to start going their way. “Jim loses track of time” has never been so ominous.

In the Dead of Night - What if Bular survived? It turns out accidentally adopting a child called Trisha, terrible decision making involving pans on fire, a very confused Otto and the show that must still must go on.

Fire Agate - Toby makes the decision to be trolled like Jim so his new extended family won’t have to see him age and wither as a human. Comes with feels, so many many feels.

Whispers Within - Did you want a slice of life fic with a gay Uhl who gets a monster boyfriend? Well even if you didn’t you can have one anyway as it is DELIGHTFUL. The school actually has more staff, there’s a toilet garden, family drama and such damn good LGBT+ rep! 

Text Ya Later, Trollhunter - A text/group chat fic that tangented due to what we knew at the time into utter delightful chaos. “I see you smiling through ur window u tiny fiend!” has yet to stop being hilarious and I recommend this fic if you just want sheer silliness that led me to binging the entire thing until about 2am.

The Time That Is Given To Us - Please heed the summary and warnings of this before you read. Steve gets up, goes to school, has practice, heads off home, dies. Wakes up and it was just a bad dream right? But the deaths keep happening and along with the phantoms of his previous injuries following him as closely as his killer, he remembers everything. His only hope seems to be some little things are happening differently, slowly but sure...

~~

The self indulgent section

Listen it’s the second recc post, I think it’s now socially acceptable to plug my own two fics way way down here :p

Masks We Wear, Lies We Share - Strickler centric and set before the days Jim Lake Jr. was one of his students we follow the grand ups, downs and general craziness of being a changeling in a human world balancing two lives and the existence of your brethren on the same knife. Then one day you get a goblin making a nest in your hidden office as this is your life now. Contains Ocs that deserve good things, Nomura glad to be back in a warmer climate and soon to come, Otto relating a worrisome auction house incident

It can deal with uncomfortable themes, warnings can be found in the chapter summary when relevant.

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Ghosts he left behind (Ghost!AU) - After “A House Divided”, we saw Jim manage to stumble home newly changed in the dead of night before collapsing moments after breaking the threshold. However, what if he never made it home after crawling out the waters that changed him?

First chapter follows Jim only, second chapter (To come) follows the rest of Team Trollhunters as they desperately try to figure out what happened to Jim and in turn find the boy who is succumbing to an increasingly distraught state alone. Second chapter also contains Stricklake because I can.

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