#anyway like the end of spy kids

[mlp-natural]

yall ready for this post canon supernatural (where i have chosen to resolve plots i didnt like off screen, aka the empty, chuck, and billie being evil for NO REASON-) that lives in my head? Good! I will make note of what i made end differently if I feel like it but whatever everyone is living in MY supernatural pony crossover

anyway part 1

[jamiethebeeart]

Sketches

[cescalr]

Barbie movie trailer looking fucking terrible. BRB gonna go get out my white blue and red 3d glasses and watch magic of pegasus to remeber what joy feels like /joke but not really. Only the part where I still have those glasses and wouldn't give myself a headache trying to use them haha don't you just love degenerative eye conditions and the passage of time

[mail-me-a-snail]

a collection of my "production notes" for true blu, as promised :-) below the cut youll find my thumbnails for each piece of chapter art, as well as some commentary

youll also notice that one of these doodles has sniper's eyebrow scar flipped, this is bc i drew it well before i actually cemented blu sniper's design ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

oh yeah and here's a video i had to make to help me visualize sniper's journey behind enemy lines in chapter 4 (made in gmod, so forgive the wacky posing)(who am i kidding, it's freakin gmod that's what youre here for)

these thumbnails were jotted down in an absolute haze bc i really wanted to get them on paper before i forgot them >_> hence why my handwriting is all over the dang place

youll notice that chapter 3 went through this short period where i really, really wanted to draw out the projector scene from chapter 3:

It's as if he's standing in front of a blank screen. The projector stands before him. (...) Light flashes across his chest. That's all he sees: that light. The shapes that dance before him. The shapes he cannot make out--but that flash by, anyway.

but i couldnt for the life of me find a composition i actually liked. plus, if i had gone through with it, it would've used yellow, which wouldn't have matched the theme of red, blue, black, and white.

speaking of chapter art that didn't make the cut, chapter 5 initially looked very different from the one i ended up posting! i really wanted to emphasize the moment sniper breaks the phone, but perhaps it would've felt too tense, since it followed chapter 4's somewhat violent cover. that, and i thought itd be thematically and symbolically significant for the last piece of cover art to lack the color red entirely.

spy being on chapter 3's cover was not planned at ALL. he wasnt a big part of the chapter in the original draft, in fact i had implied that engie had sent him to talk to sniper, as opposed to him doing this of his own accord like he does in the final product.

sniper and scout's fight scene in chapter 2 wasn't planned, either! i added it bc i thought it would be nice to show that sniper cant just go around threatening people without reaping the consequences of it...scout is a grown ass, violent man. he wasnt about to take that shit lying down ya know?

hmmm i think that's about all i have 2 say!! if u made it this far, thanks for sticking around! if u haven't read this fic, u can find it as "TRUE BLU" on ao3 by snailmeamail (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

[auspicioustidings]

Price saw the girl he wanted to marry when he was 15. Not yet obviously, he was off to the military and she was a few years younger than him so he had no interest in starting anything until they were both adults. But she lived next door to his grandparents so he'd get updates on how she was doing.

Obviously as the years passed he couldn't very well let her go off to college where he couldn't monitor her. Not as hard to microchip someone without them knowing as one would think. And college kids will spy for money very easily.

This girl spends half of her life being under John Price's thumb without ever realising, just remembering him as the boy sometimes next door who went off to the military. She doesn't know that every failed relationship was sabotaged. She has no clue every room mate has been on his payroll. Even the job she is in, low level admin for the MOD, was one she was led into and one whose line of authority ends with him.

They start dating when she's 26 and he is 28 and looking to make Captain. Marry a year later. And she always tells people how actually they knew each other when they were kids and it's like fate brought them together because she wound up working for the MOD despite it never being somewhere she thought she would end up with an art degree. And how funny it was that he saw her included on an email trail and sent her a message asking if she was the same girl he knew once.

Anyway that's why when Ghost is feeling mischievous he uses 'Fate' as a callsign for his Captain.

[aebinspa]

beg for you

PAIRING: winter x y/n reader

SUMMARY: Winter is your trusted, yet hated, co-worker. You both work for the South Korean secret service and are known to be a match made in heaven when it comes to killing or making someone disappear. Your already precarious relationship changes when you are assigned to find, and mercilessly kill, Choi Ye-won, a North Korean spy who has settled in South Korean territory.

GENRES: angst, violence, suggestive, death, blood, bad ending!

WORD COUNT: 3k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: english is not my first language! as you can see graphic design is my passion (i tried please ignore). i don't know if i'm good at writing stories like this but i tried!! i'll make it up to you by writing next time something extremely sweet for minjeong :))

It was night. Not even a sound seemed to rise in that total silence. The only noise the human ear could have heard was your breathing and your colleague's combined. The one who broke the religious silence was your colleague who began to reload the magazine of her gun. “Winter, for the love of God, be quiet” whispering had never been easy for you and, with a colleague like that who drove you crazy every second, all you could train was patience, certainly not silence. “There is no one in this hole in the forest anyway. And what's a mission without a little action?” she replied sarcastically to you with a raised eyebrow.

You, Panther, and Winter, your colleague, had been tasked by the South Korean secret service agency to find, interrogate, and then eliminate without any mercy Choi Ye-Won, informant and daughter of one of the most important men, at a managerial level, of North Korea. The young woman had been in South Korea for a few years and could get a huge amount of information to the North, without ever being traced. For a week, however, the secret services had been breathing down her neck and seemed to have discovered one of her many secret hideouts.

“I've always said that. Kill and let kill, what’s wrong with that? We are the God who decides what is right and wrong” Winter snorted, whose code name described her perfectly. “You’re crazy. We should only kill when it’s strictly necessary. What’s so nice about knowing you’ve taken someone’s life?” even though you knew no one was around, you persisted in whispering. “That you stole his life and his last words. He will die seeing you and no one else"

You and Winter thought differently about everything – it was always a debate. Nothing ever coincided when it came to you. Life, death, and desire were concepts that took two totally different paths in your subjective vision.

“Let’s stop for today, this little princess of the North won’t be captured so easily” “Well, what are you going to do?” A spark lit up in the eyes of the young girl with whom you share this difficult job. Winter took the gun and threw it as far as she could; it ended up near the abandoned house that you were observing from behind the trees. You turned to her, speechless; Winter walked past you with a satisfied smirk and headed toward the house

“Are you dumb?” “Why?” “First you complain about my inability to understand how important it is to do everything by the rules and now, not caring, you are perched on a criminal’s bed.” You yawned loudly and invited her to sit next to you.

Winter, despite appearances, sometimes seemed to let down that insurmountable barrier. The eyes, almost always empty and dull, sometimes revealed an unusual light that would have made even the darkest place shine. It wasn’t the first time you found yourself staring at her: her blonde hair, now gathered in a high bun, and the heavy black makeup made her seem more attractive - and cold - than usual.

“Are you kidding, right?” “Can't stand me at all?” your cheeks reddened slightly. “It’s counterproductive to get attached to someone you work with, Panther. Learn some basic rules” “So if we didn’t work together, would you be able to get attached?” Holding Winter’s gaze was an impossible mission; the mission you were trying to execute was child's play in comparison. You turned away unable to continue looking at those two puddles.

An unexpected thud made you turn towards the door, both with loaded guns and two lives to protect. You both exchanged a knowing look, before hearing another thud and coming back to attention. Winter didn’t fail to make a sarcastic comment before thanking God for sending you to die or kill.

“Don’t shoot” The first thing they taught you when you were still spending your days training was to not trust anyone. Sure, you wouldn’t shoot until you were shot, but you couldn’t say the same about your partner. You turned to look at her and noticed that she didn’t have any killer instinct. “Don't shoot for any reason, Y/n”

It was the first time she called you by your name. In astonishment, the gun slipped from your hands which had turned to butter. The next second Winter was pointing the gun at you.

“What are you doing?” “I thought you would end up getting more upset when this time came. I was wrong, maybe you are more qualified than I expected” “Winter” your angry gaze for the first time was able to hold the icy one of your colleague. “Everything will be fine, just do what I say”

These were the last words you heard, then something in your mouth prevented you from rebelling, and finally, darkness.

In a hotel room with furniture of questionable taste and an air that smelled of rottenness, you opened your eyes after a few hours. Your hands and feet were tied together, your mouth was dry and your hunger was starting to eat you from the inside. The first sensation when you woke up you also hoped would be the last. You didn't know where you were, you weren't completely aware of the dangers around you, and above all you were without a gun. Even though the last drastic moments you had lived with your perhaps no longer colleague were flashing through your mind, you had a hard time rationalizing everything. Was the woman who had accompanied you for the last five years trying to send you to the other world? And then, who was the little girl who had joined Winter? In the whirlwind of emotions and resentment that was building up in you, the door of the room slowly opened, contributing to creating more agitation in your nervous system.

“Hey sweetie, didn't you get scared while you were waiting all here alone?” You wanted to scream, but you only then noticed that your mouth was covered with a dirty cloth that prevented you from making any sound. “I know, I know. Take it easy. First, let me introduce you to my assistant,” she came forward timidly, in front of the bed where you had been placed, the girl who had stunned you, “She’s Choi Ye-won. Or at least, it’s Choi Ye-won on the passport that brought her here.”

Your head hurts. It felt like someone had landed countless blows on your head - maybe that's what happened. All the words that came out of Winter’s mouth came to you distorted. You wanted to answer her, but everything you thought couldn’t take shape.

“Y/n” Just saying your name for the second time, you started to thrash furiously on the bed, so much so that you scared the little girl who hid behind Winter. “Calm down, let me at least get this stuff off your face…” the blond-haired girl approached with huge strides as if to make you understand that it wouldn't be a problem for her to handle you and your outbursts.

As soon as Winter pulled the fabric out of your mouth, you instinctively grabbed her right arm and bit it so hard it made her in agony.

You tried to take your first steps after the impetuous action you had done, but you immediately realized that your legs could not move. Immediately after, cold as death, a gun was pointed at your temple.

“Let's calm down so no one gets hurt, what do you say?” “I won't play your game much longer, Winter.” “You'll be the one to say the famous last words, Y/n.”

Winter was in front of you, sitting on a wicker chair that screamed to the world that it had been clandestinely manufactured. The little girl, now sitting on the bed where you had been, was looking at you with a grim look.

“Ask me what you want.” Winter had no intention of letting you breathe: every word was accompanied by a lethal look and a gun pointed at you. Her ways were familiar to you but feeling the effect on your skin was something else entirely. “Who are you?” Winter looked at the little girl on the bed and then rested it on you. “Are you already ready to die?” “Answer me so I can die without regrets.”

Winter stood up from the chair and came closer, then sat on your lap and put her arms around your neck. This time the gun went to place behind your head. “What’s going through your head is probably right, Y/n” “Stop calling me that. I’m still in a work context” A disturbing giggle left the blonde’s lips. “I always told you: perfection will kill you”

This time Winter ran a finger over your lower lip and then over your upper lip. He gingerly approached your lips, kissed you, and then bit you so hard it made you bleed. The drop of blood hit your neck until it reached the hollow of your breast. Winter looked you in the eyes before smiling and lowering her head slightly; she slowly licked the trickle of blood. She met your eyes once more and licked her lips before speaking.

“I’m Choi Ye-won” A simple answer was enough to send you into a state of confusion. All the certainties, everything you had shared in the last five years flashed before your eyes: when was the truth falsehood and falsehood truth? “Prove it to me” Winter snorted loudly. “That’s my younger sister, she was brought to South Korea a few months ago and now everyone is convinced that she’s Choi Ye-won. They thought they had found the right person,” another stupid, irritating laugh came out of her mouth “But the right person is me and I’ve always been here. Next to you, next to the secret services, and close – maybe too close for your tastes – to South Korea”

“Why?” “Explain yourself better, Y/n” “What does all this mean?” Winter dropped the gun and, with her free hands, began to stroke your hair. “Unfortunately in all of South Korea, the agents chosen to carry out this mission were the two of us. The prey and the hunter. You understand that one of us had to disappear, one way or another”

The cold coming in from the large window of the room had numbed your body. You were unable to move. “So you're going to kill me?” “I'm not going to let you live”

Still sitting on your lap, Winter moved the gun from behind your head to your heart with a coldness that seemed forced even for her. “I know very well that after telling you everything you won’t let me escape to my country with my sister. I can’t stay here anymore. Winter only exists on South Korean soil and in your heart” “Winter is you” “No, I am Yewon. You're Y/n. I don't need to know anything else to make my own decisions."

A staring contest as painful as yours had never been seen, and yet you should have been two of the most feared women in Korea. Cold hands, throbbing hearts, and blood were all that remained of you. This time it was you who approached the blonde to kiss her and, Winter, without being told twice, returned a kiss that was anything but sweet: blood and saliva mixed, your wound continued to bleed and Winter couldn't help but be violent even in a moment that should have meant something else entirely.

“When?” “When I’m ready” “And when will you be ready?” Winter stood up from your lap and immediately the cold air hit you mercilessly. “I have to save my sister. I’m sorry, in another life maybe it would have gone differently” “It’s not your fault. After all, you always told me that it’s counterproductive to make friends at work” Winter laughed loudly at the word “friends” and then left the room with her sister. They both wished you goodnight. That day you abandoned the idea of ​​sleeping and kept your eyes open for fear that someone would kill you without giving you the chance to see her one last time.

The next morning Winter seemed intent on carrying out the final act. She was gripping the gun with all her strength and, as she paid the bill, her hand was shaking. The two sisters had planned to leave that day. They had taken a suitcase and filled it with any junk that might pass them off as respectable people. Watching them get ready so hastily confirmed to you that the two were desperate and couldn’t wait to leave and get protection. Are you willing to leave everything behind, Winter?

You walked side by side. Winter held the fully loaded gun behind your back. The two had revealed to you that a North Korean collaborator would come to pick them up and take them safe and sound, after a nice trip around the Sea of ​​Japan, back to their homeland.

“How old is your sister?” you asked, bored by the situation you found yourself in. “Sixteen” “Um. It must be fun for you to put a minor in danger.” “I have never killed or let people get killed who had nothing to do with the shady dealings their guardians were involved in.” “Your work ethic is sometimes worse than mine.” “Um?” Winter turned to look at you, shocked to hear such a serene tone.

You stopped, noticing how the boat that was waiting for the two young girls was a wreck in all its parts. “I see that North Korea treats you well” “There is no reason to expect more than salvation”

In Winter’s eyes, you see a new form of anger, rejection, and renunciation. The blonde touched the trigger of the gun and pointed it at you. “Y/n, I know it may seem terrible as an ending, but at least I will be the one to kill you. Your companion, your beloved and, soon, the incarnation of death” “Uhm” “Your last words?”

Looking into Winter’s eyes was a great way to distract her, and the five years you had spent together had proven that. You smiled cheekily, not losing eye contact with the blonde. “Maybe you really do have a heart too”

A second later a scream broke the unhealthy atmosphere between you and your colleague. Winter quickly turned in fury towards the scream uttered by her sister, who now found herself in the arms of the man who was supposed to take them to North Korea. “Leave my sister, you fucking idiot!” Oh, how satisfying it was to see a cold and calculating woman lose all her composure in an instant.

The man had a gun pointed at his younger sister’s temple. “Winter” In response, the girl turned violently towards you, pointing the gun straight at your forehead. This time it was you who had an annoying smirk on your face.

“That man works for the Secret Service, he’s a colleague of ours. There’s an entire squadron nearby ready to intervene at the first gunshot” Winter was shaking. “I'm about to offer you an advantageous deal” “Speak, you ugly bitch” “Leave the gun” "Never"

Winter had perhaps forgotten that in martial arts you had been at the top of your class for years. With a quick gesture, you threw the blonde’s gun as far away as possible. Now it was you who had the gun pointed at the young North Korean girl's forehead. Winter started laughing. “When did you realize that?” “When we were in that shitty little house and you came out with sentences I’d never heard before. Killing is your life, saying you didn’t want to do it was a pretty strong warning signal, don’t you think?”

“What do you want, Y/n?” “Your life.” Winter didn’t look scared at all. “And what do I gain from it?” “Your sister will live. I will personally send her back to Korea and cover up any clues or traces that could lead her back to you.” “Was I her doom?” “You can be her salvation.”

Winter turned to her sister and told her to cover her eyes and ears. “I trust you, Y/n.” “Me too. I know I wouldn’t screw up. Work is work and…” “Death is death. Don’t make it long and kill me.”

You pulled the trigger. You looked into Winter’s eyes one last time. The blonde seemed to feel the same. She was shaking, but nothing could stop you from completing the mission. “Thank you for everything, Winter. We’ll complete the mission together this time too” “Spare me this bullshit”

A gust of wind ruffled both of their hair, Winter’s sister let out another scream and started to cry. Tears were streaming down her face.

“Winter, your last words?” The girl smiled like you’d never seen her do. She chained her black pools in your eyes and whispered the next words. “Y/n, I loved y-”

You didn’t let her finish. One blow and the girl’s body was lying helpless on the ground. The pool of blood that formed beneath her seemed to be a representation of the blood she had taken from everyone she had killed over the past few years. She had been a liar, a murderer, the top of her class, and also the love of your life. You turned and signaled to your colleague to leave in the boat, which silently went away along with the tears of a younger sister left alone.

In the months that followed, the secret service agency named you and Winter the best agents they had ever had. Your names were now both imprinted on the golden walls of the department waiting room. No one ever knew that Winter was Choi Ye-Won; everyone cried her name believing that she had been killed by the North Korean whose body and traces you had then eliminated. Winter's sister remained safe in North Korea.

In your memories Winter was never Choi Ye-Won, but always and only Winter. Like the cold earth that now enveloped her body. In the future you asked your colleagues, when your time came, to bury you next to your beloved, yet hated, colleague. Choi Ye-Won was born and died as Winter in your heart.

[libraryraccoon]

I was wondering how a Dazai!Reader from BSD (preferably 15 year old Dazai) would interact with the HH crew

Btw, I love your stuff sm, have a lovely day if you see this!

Gender : GN

Pronouns : None

Info : I haven't watched BSD for a long time, so it's probably wrong/inaccurate, sorry. Reader have 15 years old.

Message fom Raccoon : What ? Dad!Lucifer ? Dad!Alastor ? Okay, take that Dad!Husk !

TW : Suicide (mentionned); SH (mentionned)

General Headcanon

Finally.

After all this years of trying, after all this attempts, you were finally dead !

And what do we do when we have achieved such a feat ? We drink until the morning !

As you drank, you recounted your feat of finally dying to the bartender, some sort of cat-bird demon.

He gave you a judgmental look when you told him you were 15 and died of suicide.

But you were used to it, people often judge you while you were alive and was trying every second to die.

After a few hours, you were drunk and followed the bartender back to his place, a small apartment in a quiet corner of Hell.

You shouldn't follow someone to their home, you know that, but for your defense, you were drunk and he was a cat. And you have a weakness for cats.

Two things making it impossible to refuse his invitation.

And, if anything ever went wrong, you always had your gun with you, which had appeared at the same time as you in Hell.

The bartender's name was Husk and he kind of adopted you ? You weren't even sure if one sinner could adopt another sinner.

Life was calm with Husk, and you somehow helped him with his work.

By that I mean you were stopping the powers of other demons with your power, so you used it to kick out all the assholes who attacked him from the bar.

You and Husk had this dynamic of "Father who will kill for his child & Child who will sacrifice themselves for their father."

And then, one day you had to move to the Hazbin Hotel because Husk find a work there.

Alastor was surprised to see that Husk now had a kid–he didn't think it was possible for an alcoholic like him to have a child.

And he learned that Husk had cut down on his drinking, so he could be a better father.

*very kindly and not at all suspiciously notes this fact in the back of his mind.*

The hotel was quite shocked to know that you were a child from a fucking mafia and that you had died of suicide at 15 years old. If Husk hadn't informed them about that, they never would have suspected it.

Your humor worries them more than anything else.

Charlie is worry every time you make jokes about suicide while your dad rolls his eyes at it.

Husk was used to your jokes after a few months of living together.

The hotel wasn't.

Charlie is like your older sister, optimistic and a little naive at times.

She always tries to make you see the bright side of things and to make you forget this idea of double death.

Spoiler : it doesn't work.

Lucifer sees you like one of his children.

He spoils you like he spoiled Charlie when she was just a child.

Husk often makes side eyes at him, accusing him of trying to steal his child.

And that was true.

Lucifer, Charlie, Husk and Angel Dust are the ones who are the most concerned about your mental health.

Alastor wanted to make you sign a contract "I become powerful and Alastor releases my father from his contract in exchange of stopping trying to kill myself."

You didn't sign it.

Alastor tried to use you to spy on Vox and the Vees because he was bored and wanted some entertainment.

It worked.

Alastor do radio shows with you sometimes, you two are called "The RadioDuo".

His audience LOVES you.

You gained Alastor some listeners btw.

You help Niffty with her work at the Hotel.

Even if Charlie said you didn't have to do it, you do it anyway.

Vaggie take all your guns because you apparently “didn’t need” them.

You managed to recover them with a little manipulation.

Angel Dust could see himself in you.

You reminded him of his little human self, Anthony, broken by the world and wanting to end it. A family running the Mafia and forcing him to join it.

You're a bit like him, but compared to him, who fought to survive, had a reason to survive, you had nothing, no reason to fight, and you gave up.

When Angel Dust isn't working, he usually stays with you and Husk.

He doesn't want to abandon you, leave you alone in such a rotten world. He wants you to be protected and to be the child you never could be.

He will never let anyone touch you, never.

Husk and Angel Dust are usually the ones who bandage you after SH, Angel Dust doesn't say anything as he does it, because he understands. Husk doesn't speak as well, but you can see that by doing so he's blaming himself, making you instantly regret it.

Don't try to kill yourself in front of them, please. They're already worried enough, don't add more.

Hotel Hazbin was, in a way, your family.

And you would kill everyone in this room before killing yourself before anything happened to them.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 3: The Ones Who Died Without A Name]

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! ����🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, Jace is here unfortunately.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Holiday” by Green Day.

Word count: 6.1k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

The Tahoe runs out of gas just west of Ashland, Ohio, coasting to a stop along the shoulder of State Route 96, sapphire skies and cotton ball cumulus clouds, emerald fields of Swiss chard and beets slowly being nibbled bare by deer and rabbits, the inheritors of an abandoned earth.

“Well, that’s it,” Baela says, offhand, blasé, as if it’s not a disaster. You’ve sorted this out, it didn’t take long: there are people who aren’t allowed to panic. If they do, it’ll be like a dam crumbling, and the flood will burst through to drown everything, like when Noah’s wrathful God decided it was time for the world to start over. Baela can’t panic. Aemond can’t panic. And maybe you can’t either. Rio gives you a skeptical look—Are we really about to walk to Oregon?—and you slap his thigh encouragingly as you climb over him and out of the Tahoe.

“Everyone gets a gun,” Aemond says as he starts distributing them: Rugers for Rhaena, Baela, and Helaena (although she winces as she obediently takes the revolver, immediately tucking it away into her burlap messenger bag), .22s for Daeron and Aegon, Remington 12 gauges for Jace and Rio, who gives you his M9. You’re better with it anyway. Aemond’s Glock 20 is in a handmade leather holster he took from the cellar of the house back in Distant, Pennsylvania. Luke, still a potential zombie, will not be armed; but Aemond slings the strap of a .22 over his own shoulder for in case Luke recovers.

“Safeties on, right kids?” Rio goes down the line checking everyone’s gun. “Remember what we practiced, use your sights, don’t go pointing the barrel at anyone unless you’re okay with blowing a hole in them. The noise is risky, but getting bit is worse, so use your best judgment.”

“I don’t have any of that,” Aegon says, grinning.

Rio grabs Aegon’s sunburned face roughly and smacks a kiss onto his cheek. “I know, Honey Bun. Don’t you worry. Stick close and I’ll do your thinking for you.”

You spy it up the road a ways on the right, half-obscured by tree limbs: a white and orange sign, a logo shaped like a diamond. “Oh my God. It’s a Stewart’s.”

“A what?” Aemond asks, squinting at the sign. It’s late afternoon, and soon the sun will be sinking into the west like a drowning man through deep water, and like all prey animals you are restless without the promise of shelter.

“A Stewart’s Root Beer. They used to sell hot dogs and barbeque and all these neat soda flavors like key lime and black cherry. We had one where I grew up. That was the fancy place. You knew it was a good day if you ended up at Stewart’s for dinner.”

Aemond considers you, that subtle ceaseless curiosity. “We can stay the night there.”

“I thought we didn’t want to waste any daylight, Aemond,” Jace jabs as he helps Luke—miserable but presently human—out of the Tahoe. “That’s what you said when I wanted to check out that Barnes & Noble, Aemond.”

“What the hell do you need books for?” Aegon says. He’s grabbing clear CD cases out of the center console of the Tahoe. He pounds on the eject button and then punches the CD player when he realizes he won’t be getting that particular disk back. “Oh, you bitch! I had Shakira on there!”

“I would like to preserve my ability to read at higher than a fifth-grade level. I wouldn’t expect you to understand. I was going to work for Sullivan & Cromwell, you know.”

“And now you’re a jobless loser just like me. Isn’t life funny?”

“You can’t be serious,” Baela says to Aegon, his arms full of CD cases. “You’re going to carry all those to California? You don’t even have a way to listen to them.”

“I’m not leaving my mixtapes.” Aegon shoves them into a U.S. Army backpack he found at Fort Indiantown Gap and then hoists it onto his back with a grunt.

Aemond tells Jace: “We only have a few hours until the sun starts going down. We don’t know what’s up ahead. We should take advantage of a safe place to sleep if it’s available. Getting caught out in the open after dark is the worst case scenario.”

“Whatever, Aemond. It’s your call. Everything is your fucking call.” Then Jace plods out into a field of rabbit-ravaged Swiss chard to relieve himself semi-privately, his back to the Tahoe.

“Hey, Chips Ahoy,” Aegon says, taking the folded-up map out of the pocket of his shorts, mint green plaid. “Want to tell me if there are any nuclear power plants near our route so we can steer clear of them and not get irradiated?”

“Uh, well, I don’t exactly have them all memorized…” You examine the map, hoping the black-ink cities will jog your memory, trivia you catalogued years ago, snippets you’ve heard from your fellow seamen. “Perry’s in Cleveland. We won’t be anywhere near that one. Fermi is up by Detroit.” You hesitate as your fingertips skate past Chicago. “Braidwood, LaSalle, and Byron are someplace between Chicago and Peoria, but I’m not sure where. And then there are a few others around the border of Illinois and Iowa. West of that, I don’t know. Rio?”

“Cooper’s in Nebraska, dead east of Lincoln. That’s all I got.”

Aegon is nodding, making notes on his map with a glittery forest green gel pen. “Cool, cool. If I don’t end up eaten or a zombie, I can look forward to being a sterile, glow-in-the-dark mutant.”

Luke frets: “What if we accidentally drink contaminated water or something?”

“Then you die an agonizing death, kiddo,” Rio says. “Your cells dissolve and you turn into human Jello and there’s nothing anybody can do about it.”

Luke swallows noisily. “Awesome.”

“You might just get cancer if the dose is small enough,” you tell him. Luke does not seem pacified. Rhaena gives him a sip of warm Coca-Cola from a plastic bottle from the Wawa.

Jace comes trudging back to the road, zipping up his khaki chino shorts. “Alright, are we ready?”

Helaena is gazing solemnly out over the fields of green leaves, red roots that grow like arteries into the soil. “We should try to find antivenom.”

“Antivenom?” Aemond asks, distracted as he makes sure nothing of importance was left in the Tahoe. The keys are still dangling from the ignition; you won’t need them. There’s no breathing the Tahoe back to life. There’s no returning to Aemond’s house back in Boston. There is only the West, beckoning you to cross rivers and plains and mountains to join her, and to do it as people did two hundred years ago, no cars, no phones, no escape hatches. The only way out is through.

“For the snakes,” Helaena says.

Aemond stares at her. The stitches in his face are dissolving as the flesh weaves back together, jagged maroon scar tissue, beautiful savage ruins, landscapes of improbable survival. “Helaena, antivenom has to be refrigerated. Even if we miraculously found some, it wouldn’t be useable.”

She nods, eyes wide and glazed, still peering into the fields, into the earth.

~~~~~~~~~~

A hand brushing the loose strands of hair out of your face, a whisper through the dissipating indigo of sleep: “Guess what today is.”

You startle awake and yelp as you bolt from your assailant. Aegon is watching you without any shame whatsoever. People are laughing as they gather up supplies so you all can get moving again, brushing teeth, arranging hair, drinking glass bottles of Stewart’s soda found last night in crates in the storeroom, snacking on bags of Utz chips. Sunlight is streaming in through the windows; specks of dust glimmer in the air like comets through the inhospitable void of outer space.

Luke says from where he is sitting on the floor, his arms and legs tethered: “Hopefully the day when somebody’s going to untie me.”

“It’s my birthday!” Aegon announces.

You’re still blinking at him, disoriented. “What…?”

“Aegon, I told you,” Aemond says, sipping a bottle of Stewart’s key lime soda. “It’s not your birthday. It’s not the 23rd.”

“It’s the 20th, right?” Rhaena says.

Rio looks to you, bewildered. “Isn’t it like the 25th?”

“We’re still in June?” Luke says. Now Aemond is hacking through his ropes with a hunting knife from the cellar in Distant, Pennsylvania.

“Your hand is healing up. Your color is good, your temperature is normal. I guess we can officially declare you human for the foreseeable future.”

“I knew it,” Jace says, combative so no one will see the desperate relief underneath.

Aemond examines your hands next, calloused over where the heat of the transmission tower burned the skin. There is no pretext for needing to tend to them any longer, no antiseptic or ointment or gauze. Aemond nods somberly at your palms, as if he isn’t entirely happy to pronounce them cured. His hands linger on yours for slow, unnecessary seconds.

“So what are we going to do special for my birthday?” Aegon presses eagerly.

“We’re going to walk between ten and twenty miles towards California,” Baela says.

“That’s not a birthday activity!”

Daeron groans as he inspects the screws and bolts of his compound bow. “Aegon, it’s not your birthday!”

“Shut up. You can’t even apply to get a credit card.”

“No one can get a credit card now! Currency is worthless!”

Rio offers you a cherries and cream soda. You take it and say: “Aegon, how old are you? On today, your alleged birthday?”

He hesitates. “That’s not the important part.”

Aemond smiles as he tells you, mock-whispering: “He’s thirty.”

“Thirty?!” Rio exclaims. “That’s like, an actual adult age. Marriage and a mortgage, shit like that. What were you doing before everything went insane?”

Aegon gestures vaguely. “I was considering a number of opportunities.”

“He was living on my couch,” Aemond says.

Rio shakes his head, grinning. “No job? No school? No nothing?”

“I wasn’t doing nothing. I played a lot of golf.”

“He was totally doing nothing,” Jace says. “I was in my third year of law school at Harvard, Baela was getting a master’s in Aeronautics and Astronautics at MIT, Rhaena just started an Anthropology PhD, Luke was getting a master’s in Screenwriting at Boston University—he was going to be very sad and very broke, but still, he had a plan—and Aegon was doing…nothing.”

“I’ve never had a real birthday party before,” Aegon tells you; and there is something in his murky blue eyes that is tremendously sad, wounded, childlike. “I might not get another chance.”

“What do you want to do?” Now people are alarmed, skittish glances and mouths open to object. You are encouraging him.

“I don’t know yet,” Aegon says. But he’s glad you bothered to ask. You can see it on his face.

It’s not until several hours later—after noon, the sun high and blazing, everyone’s unpracticed feet aching and blistering in their shoes—that Aegon experiences a revelation like the angel Gabriel appearing to the Virgin Mary or Sir Isaac Newton extrapolating gravity from an apple falling on his head. Aegon’s epiphany appears in the form of a bowling alley in Shenandoah, Ohio called Luxury Lanes. It is remarkably unluxurious, a nondescript black rectangular building with a few doors in the front, one small tinted window on each, and no other openings. To Aegon, it is an oasis in a desert.

“I want to go bowling!”

“Aegon, we’re not going bowling,” Baela says, breathing heavily but trying to hide it, her hands massaging the small of her back. Aemond is watching her worriedly. Baela is the only person not burdened with carrying any supplies beyond her hammer and shiny new Ruger—and she resisted this accommodation at first—but still, she suffers more than anyone.

“Once again, it is my birthday—”

“Aren’t bowling allies soundproofed?” Rio asks Aemond. “You know, so they don’t get noise complaints?”

“Uh, I guess so…?”

“It’s kind of a fortress, isn’t it?” Rio continues. “Not many ways in or out. We wouldn’t be seen or heard. Might be a good place to stop for the night. ”

“Yeah!” Aegon says. “Right, Aemond?”

Aemond looks at you. It takes you a moment to figure out why. “I think the bowling alley is a good idea,” you tell him. “It’ll be safe, assuming we can clear it. And Aegon can have his party.”

Aemond is skeptical. “A party?”

“Survival isn’t just about not dying. It’s also about holding onto the things that make us human.”

“Like bowling!” Rhaena says excitedly. “It’s preserving a tradition! And I used to be so good at bowling. I bowled a 250 game once.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Aegon says, still delighted to have her on his side.

“There’s a sign for a Walmart maybe half a mile up the road,” Daeron points out. “We could search it for supplies and then double back here.”

Aemond polls the audience. Everyone agrees.

Shenandoah is tiny, rural, religious, and out of the way from the major highways. The Walmart doors are chained shut with padlocks, and amazingly no one has taken that as an invitation to drive their car through them or otherwise shatter the glass yet. Rio is honored to be the first. He takes the butt of his Remington shotgun and punches through the glass of the locked doors, kicks away loose shards, whistles and shouts to lure out any zombies. A dozen of them come reeling out of the aisles and towards the doorway. Daeron shoots down most of them with his compound bow. Rio kills two with the butt of his Remington, his new favorite toy. Aegon, the birthday boy, uses his golf club to beat in the skull of a teenager who is still wearing glittery pink nail polish and fake eyelashes. According to her nametag, her friends and family once called her Raelynn.

Inside the Walmart, Jace and Aemond take one side of the store, you and Rio the other, doing a quick sweep to make sure you didn’t miss any undead employees or customers waiting for the chance to sink their teeth into you. And when that’s done, you begin shopping.

The shelves are probably two-thirds empty, but there are still treasures to be found. You push carts through the aisles and fill them with candles, lighters, Chef Boyardee, Doritos, canned soup, fruit snacks, tuna pouches, 5 gum, bottles of Snapple, socks and underwear, hair ties, t-shirts and shorts, Kleenex tissues, pads and tampons, toilet paper. Baela finds some cute maternity dresses. Helaena picks through the pharmacy for useful medications, Aemond shadowing her with a baseball bat in his hands and his Glock at his waist.

“Chips, they got Cheddar Whales!” Rio exclaims, tossing several boxes into your cart.

“I miss grocery stores,” Rhaena says as she climbs the shelves to get the last box of Teddy Grahams.

“I miss going to the mall and getting Auntie Anne’s pretzel nuggets,” Aegon commiserates. Then he stumbles upon the liquor aisle and his eyes light up like high beams. “Aemond!”

Aemond appears—perhaps a bit flustered—and deliberates for a while as he browses the selection, Aegon waiting anxiously, before he decides: “Since it is allegedly your birthday, you can drink tonight. And you can pick one other person to drink with you. But only one.”

“Rio,” Aegon says immediately.

“Come on!” Daeron whines.

Aegon is already putting bottles of Captain Morgan rum into a cart. “Sorry. Illegal. Underage.”

“I’ve helped you butcher countless zombies, but I can’t drink?!”

“Just Say No, as Nancy Reagan would tell an innocent child such as yourself.”

Jace strides over, sly and playful, gnawing on a Twizzler. “Aemond, were you over there rummaging through the medicine aisles again? What do you keep looking for? Condoms?”

There is an awkward silence, an extremely awkward silence. Aemond glares at Jace. Jace’s eyes go wide.

“Oh, I, uh…I was definitely joking. But…congrats on the possible future sex!”

“I already checked,” Luke tells Aemond apologetically. “You know condoms were the first thing to get bought up or looted everywhere.”

“Okay, great,” Aemond says quickly, willing the conversation to be over. There is blood, hot and mortified, flaring in his cheeks. He was thinking of you, he had to be; the only other single woman here is his sister, and obviously that’s not an option.

Jace takes another bite of his Twizzler. “Just pull out, man.”

Baela, incredulous, gestures to her belly. “Because that worked out super well for us.”

“I told you to stop riding me!”

“Yeah, a whole two seconds before you impregnated me with your super-swimmer Michael Phelps sperm.”

“Please don’t make me listen to this,” Luke begs. “I’m starting to wish I really was bitten.”

“Don’t you know all the tricks to not getting someone pregnant, Aemond?” Jace says. “Wasn’t that going to be your specialty? You wanted to be a vagina doctor? So don’t you know all the mysteries of the vagina, Aemond?”

“He was going to be an OB/GYN,” Baela says, unamused.

“Really?” Rio turns to Aemond. “Why would you want to do that?”

“So he gets to look at pussies all day,” Aegon says morosely, as if heartbroken that such a path is inaccessible to him.

“That’s not why,” Aemond insists, mostly to you.

You smile. “I didn’t think so. What’s the actual reason?”

“Interns do rotations in different departments so we can figure out what we enjoy and what we’re best suited for. I knew within two days of my OB/GYN rotation that that’s where I wanted to be. Giving birth is the only life-threatening trauma that is necessary for humanity to continue. I wanted to help people get through it as safely and painlessly as possible.” Then his gaze darts to Baela. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it sound worse—”

“No, it’s okay, I’m very much aware. It hurts like hell, people die. Believe me, I’d be thinking about that even if you hadn’t said it. I think about it all the time.”

“I have an idea you’re not going to like.”

“What?” Baela says. Aemond nods to the nearest shopping cart. “No way. You’re not going to push me around in one of those.”

“I believe it’s an adequate solution until an alternative appears.”

She sighs. “I’ve lost my body, my career, my society, my parents…must I lose my dignity too?”

Aemond winks. “Only when you’re too tired to walk.”

“Alright, Aemond. I realize you’re under the impression that this is a favor. So thank you.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

“Let me give you a favor in return.” Then Baela begins shooing everyone except you and Aemond out of the liquor aisle. “Grab anything else you want, we’re leaving in five minutes! Jace, come look at the baby clothes with me…”

When the two of you are alone, Aemond says: “I really hope that didn’t make you feel too weird. I’m not someone who gets uncomfortable about the…um…the subject matter in general. But I wouldn’t want you to think that I was trying to…I don’t know. Assume anything or pressure you into something that you weren’t already open to. Obviously I like…um…I mean, enthusiastic consent is essential, and I just…I would never try to convince anybody or…you know what, I’m just going to stop talking now. Okay?”

“Aemond, I’m fine. I didn’t think it was weird.”

“It’s a compliment,” he confesses, flushing pink again, touching his chin, perspiration gleaming at his temples.

Now you have to show interest so he knows you’re on the same page. You’ve never had to think this way before, you’ve never liked anyone enough to play the game. “So hypothetically, if someone didn’t want to get pregnant but there were no condoms, pills, etcetera…what are the options?”

He looks at you, pleasantly surprised. “Well, there’s the rhythm method. It’s not perfect, but it’s been around forever and is reasonably reliable if done correctly.”

You are only vaguely familiar. “We didn’t get a lot of sex ed down in Kentucky.”

Aemond chuckles then leans in, a mischievous curl of his lips, a craving in the crystalline river blue of his eye. He grips the shelf above your head, his arm a canopy. His voice is hushed. The front windows of the Walmart face west where the sun is setting; golden light floods in to illuminate the store. “Is your cycle regular?”

“It is, actually.” This should be embarrassing, but it’s not; it’s exhilarating. You’re imagining him seeing you, touching you, unearthing secrets you’ve never been tempted to share with anyone else.

“So if we imagine it like a circle…” He draws one on the back of your hand, invisible, mesmerizing, blue-white lightning crackling up the path of your metacarpals, wrist, ulna and radius, humerus and clavicle, descending ribs like the rungs of a ladder to jolt the sinus rhythm of your heart. “The start of your period would be Day One.”

“Okay,” you say, hypnotized as his fingerprint skates in an arc across the bumps of your knuckles.

“Ovulation doesn’t happen until around Day Fourteen. You might have noticed some increased arousal and…wetness. Clear in color, elastic consistency.”

Your eyes are trapped in his face, smooth skin, jagged scar tissue. You tease him back, stepping closer. You can hear people snickering in the next aisle as they eavesdrop. You don’t care about them, and neither does Aemond anymore. “Now that you mention it…”

“That’s nature trying to trick you into reproducing. Day Fourteen is crunch time. Once ovulation occurs, the egg is only good for up to twenty-four hours. And then the rest of the cycle you’re effectively useless, as far as making miniature humans is concerned.”

“Wait, you’re telling me people can only get pregnant one day a month?” This seems improbable. “How has the species managed to survive this long?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Aemond admits. “Depending on the health of the specimens, sperm can survive up to five days inside a woman’s body. And it’s difficult to tell exactly when ovulation occurs. So, in practice, there’s basically one week a month when you’d want to avoid a man…completing the act, if you will.” He’s still smiling, taunting, famished, imagining the same scenes you are. You know this with a categorical certainty, as if you’re reading his thoughts like stark stripes of distance on a measuring tape. “And that’s also the week when your hormones are demanding you have sex, inspiring you to make all sorts of impulsive yet extremely consequential decisions.”

“Don’t I know it,” Baela laments from the next aisle, and there is a rupture of wild giggles.

“Anyway.” Aemond lifts his finger from the back of your hand and you have to stop yourself from reaching for him as he recedes from you. “There’s a basic overview.”

“It was very educational.” You follow him out of the liquor aisle.

“I’ve used the rhythm method for years,” Rhaena says as everyone makes their way towards the front of the store with their carts. “Clearly that’s just anecdotal, so don’t think I’m officially endorsing it. When I’m in my fertile week we add condoms. Well…we used to. Back when we could get them.”

“Ugh, I hate condoms,” Baela grumbles.

“We can tell,” Aegon says.

“I hate the way they feel, I hate the way they smell…”

“They’ve never bothered me,” Rhaena says. “I don’t notice that much of a difference. And it can be fun to try different kinds.”

“Are you on drugs?” Baela whirls to you. “Seriously, what is wrong with her? I’m right, aren’t I? Condoms are awful.”

Rio gives you a cautious look, uncharacteristically reticent. He’s not going to be the one to reveal it. He doesn’t know if it’s something you’re willing to share. But if anything is going to happen with Aemond—and you want it to, already you know you want him—then it’s something you think you should be honest about. You want him to know about you. You don’t want to have to create some false version of yourself to wear like a pelt, heavy, smothering, something that will inevitably need to be taken off.

“I am regretfully not qualified to say.”

“You’ve never used condoms?” Baela asks, a bit dubious.

“I’ve never done any of it.”

Everyone freezes at the defunct checkout counters and turns to gawk at you. “No sex?” Jace says. “No nothing?”

You shrug, smiling a little self-consciously. “I made out with a guy once.”

“The Marine from Corpus Christi?” Baela asks. They’re obsessed with him, they’re convinced there’s some lore to be excavated, translated, displayed like a relic in a museum. There isn’t. Sometimes people pass in and out of your life as seamlessly as shadows or sunlight, no weight, no indentations, nothing to recall or relay. He existed and then he didn’t. He was an airplane drawing contrails in the sky that faded before the blood red fire of dusk filled the horizon.

“No. Someone from home. Just a guy, not even worth mentioning.”

“Girl, you gotta fix that, soon, pronto, like yesterday.” Jace seems genuinely horrified. “You can’t die a virgin.”

“You really can’t,” Daeron adds, and Aegon pretends to be distraught over the loss of his youngest brother’s virtue.

“That’s what I’m always telling her!” Rio says.

“Not everybody wants to have sex,” Helaena murmurs as she records today’s findings in her spider notebook.

“True,” Jace concedes. “And that is totally legit. Mother Teresa, Queen Elizabeth, Jesus Christ, Buddha, Joan of Arc, Sir Isaac Newton, Nikola Tesla, the Jonas Brothers for a while, all great people. But Chips is not celibate by choice, correct?”

“Buddha had a wife and son,” Aemond says, preoccupied. He isn’t looking at you now, which is concerning; he’s peering down at where his hands grip his shopping cart, his brow creased with…what is that? Unease, disapproval, concern, thoughtfulness, fear?

“It’s not some big thing,” you backpedal. “I don’t have a hangup about it, I just never met a guy I liked enough, and enlisted men, they’re…well, a lot of them are taken, or cheaters, or idiots. Or all three.”

“Not to worry, Chipper.” Aegon claps a hand on your shoulder; and you aren’t sure if it is his purpose to break the tension, but he seems to have that effect regardless. “If you ever wish to be initiated into the art of lovemaking by a slightly below average and entirely unintimidating penis, I’d be thrilled to assist you. I love condoms. But in their absence, I am the king of pulling out. 100% success rate. Zero bastard children running around to my knowledge.”

“You should give Jace lessons,” Baela says.

And the last thing Aegon takes from the Walmart is a green battery-powered Toshiba CD player so he can blast to his mixtapes.

~~~~~~~~~~

Flickering candles lining the middle lane, drinks and snacks strewn across the tables, Rio’s Moonbeam propped up so it’s aimed at the disco ball still hanging from the ceiling from a time before the dead started devouring the living. Daeron is at the end of the lanes to reset the pins after each player’s turn. Helaena is keeping score in her notebook; Rhaena is currently in the lead by a massive 80 points. Aegon is wasted, dancing on a table and crunching Cool Ranch Doritos beneath his bare feet, his blonde hair flopping. Each time it’s his turn to bowl, Aegon has to roll the ball down the lane with two hands like a child. Rio, several shots deep but unable to feel much shy of half a bottle, is singing along with him to Cruise by Florida Georgia Line, but it’s really more like shouting, each sentence an off-key monstrosity that makes you laugh.

“Baby, you a song, you make me wanna roll my windows down and cruise!

Down a back road, blowin’ stop signs through the middle, every little farm town with you!

And this brand new Chevy with a lift kit, would look a hell of a lot better with you up in it!

So baby, you a song, you make me wanna roll my windows down and cruise!”

You cleared Luxury Lanes easily; the only difficult part was figuring out how to get into the area called the pit where, in normal times, felled pins were mechanically collected and sorted. There were two former employees roaming around back there in their tattered uniforms, snarling and drooling blood. Both were rapidly neutralized.

Someone always has to be by the front doors, watching through the small tinted windows for signs of trouble, whether from zombies or living humans. Aemond is currently on guard, nursing a Snapple. According to the bottle, the flavor is called Takes 2 To Mango. You grab your own Snapple—plain and simple Lemon Tea, no charming gimmicks—and walk over to join him.

“So now I guess it’s my turn to say I hope that conversation didn’t make you feel weird.”

He smiles politely, glancing out the window. “No, I’m completely fine.”

“Good. Because I don’t want you to look at me differently than you would any other girl, like I’m better than them, or worse than them, or like there’s anything wrong with me, because it really isn’t something I consider to be paramount to my identity, and people always seem to get all twisted up about it, but it’s a pretty boring story, I just…”

“You’ve never liked someone enough to take the risk. I get it. I don’t think you’re a freak or anything.”

“Okay. Good.” The next song on Aegon’s mixtape is Shaboozey’s A Bar Song. Jace is dancing with Baela, spinning her around as she giggles. With Rhaena’s coaching, Luke bowls his first strike. You rest your head on the door as you gaze up at Aemond, the phantom of a smile on your lips. “I might like you enough.”

And he says as if it’s the worst thing in the world, a plague, an infection, an apocalypse: “You’d fall in love with me.”

It hurts, of course it does, this flippant rejection. He burns you, he cuts you, he stitches you up with no anesthetic. You try not to show it. “You’re…confident.”

“No, I don’t mean because of anything specific I would do, it’s just…it’s natural to form a certain…attachment. To the first person you’re with. It leaves an impression.” Not an impression like a first judgment, superficial and swift; an impression like an imprint, a hollow, a prehistoric fossil that is preserved through eons. “That was already true before. And everything is more intense now, because life is so…” Aemond takes a while to settle on a word. “Precarious.”

You say like a challenge: “Are you still in love with the first girl you slept with?”

A shadow that ripples through his face, a flinching he tries to hide. You shouldn’t have asked. Still, you feel like you need to know, like you’ll run out of oxygen if you don’t. “I think I’ve gotten enough distance from it to realize that she wasn’t…wasn’t good for me in a lot of ways. It was an unconventional situation. But I still carry all these pieces of her around with me, yes. I don’t think that will ever go away.”

“Aemond,” you say gently. “Who was she?”

He is evasive, smirking. “It’s a cliché.”

“Was she a patient? That’s very Grey’s Anatomy of you.”

“No. She was my professor.”

An older woman, wise and experienced and captivating and sophisticated. He’s cut you again, a blade slicing effortlessly through veins like soft butter. “Oh. From med school?”

“Undergrad.”

“You were really young,” you say, a little startled.

He nods. “I was eighteen when it started. I was this shy, insecure, friendless freshman, she was married with two kids around my age. And it was off and on, but there was never anyone else for me, she took up too much space in my head, in my chest, like I couldn’t breathe unless I knew we were okay.”

“It went on for seven years?”

This seems to stun him, hearing how much of his existence she bottled like a terrarium. “I guess so.”

Is she dead? Missing? Safe somewhere with her husband and kids? “Is she…gone?”

His gaze drops to the floor. “Yeah.”

“Did you see it happen?”

“I was the one who killed her when she turned.”

It’s indescribably horrible; you don’t know what to say. “Aemond, I’m…I’m really sorry…”

He is abruptly nonchalant, the blue of his eye cool and dispassionate. “Look, I’m not prepared for this to be anything more than casual. And I don’t think casual is really in the cards for us. So it’s probably best to leave it alone.”

“Right,” you agree numbly, not meaning it.

“We’re headed different places, I’m going to California, you’re planning to end up in Oregon, it’s just…a bad idea to muddy the waters, I think.”

“Because I haven’t done this before.”

He shrugs ambiguously. “It’s a contributing factor.”

“Well you seemed pretty interested before you found that out, so.”

“I don’t mean to offend you.”

“You aren’t offending me. You’re disappointing me.”

Now Aemond is offended. “By trying to protect us?”

“No, by saying you don’t think I’m a freak when you clearly do, and by having some savior complex, or a whore-Madonna complex, or whatever’s going on in your head, it’s always such a mystery to everyone else.”

He downs the rest of his Snapple and shoves the bottle into the nearest trash can. You hear it thump against the bottom, no garbage bag. “Alright. This was fun.”

“Maybe you’re afraid of making a mistake, just like I always was.”

“Maybe I don’t want to have to teach you how to do everything,” Aemond snaps.

“I taught you how to shoot.”

“The fact that you don’t realize how wildly different those two situations are proves you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Okay, bye. Sorry about your zombie girlfriend.”

Aemond glares at you, shocked, furious. “That was so fucking low.”

It was. You regret it. But you can’t bring yourself to tell him that. You flee to the far end of the bowling alley and sit alone at a table draped in shadows. After a while, Rio notices and ventures over to see what’s wrong, a bottle of Captain Morgan swinging from one hand. He’s tipsy now.

Rio sighs as he takes a seat beside you, reaching over to rub your back. His hands are large and indelicate; what he means to be comforting is more like getting manhandled. Sometimes he leaves bruises, but it’s not his fault. Nature gave Rio the body of a killer. If anyone is going to survive the zombie apocalypse, it’s him. “What’s going on, Chips?”

Your voice breaks as you say it; tears sting in your eyes. “I hate caring about people.”

He bursts out laughing. “Yeah, it’s the worst, isn’t it? But once in a while it works out.”

“Bryan.”

And now he knows you’re serious. You have his full attention, large dark eyes fixed on your face, lines etching into his brow beneath the artificial starlight of the disco ball. “What are you asking me?”

“We can’t leave them and walk to the West Coast ourselves, can we?”

“I mean, technically we could, but it would be really stupid. Everything’s so much easier with ten people. And also I think I’d have to kidnap Aegon and take him with us, I love that little dude. Why? Do you really want to leave them?”

“No.”

“I figured.” He offers you the half-empty bottle of Captain Morgan.

“I’m not drinking that.”

“Come on. It’ll take the edge off.”

You look at him. Rio looks back, smiling now.

“I’ll watch out for you,” he says. “And if you get bit I’ll shoot you dead, no hesitation, swear to God. I remember our promise. I won’t let you die alone.”

“You’re a good guy.”

“I know.” He nudges your arm with the bottle of Captain Morgan. “A few swigs won’t hurt. It’ll help you sleep.”

You take the bottle, twist off the cap, drink down amber-gold poison that burns like gasoline, like fire.

[yuri-is-online]

Daytime TV Dreaming (A Fyuuture Kid AU Drabble ft. Heartsabyul, Savanaclaw, and Octavinelle)

While camping in the mountains during Camp Vargas, you encounter a monster exactly like the one you fought off with Ace and Deuce at the beginning of the year. While trying to fight it off again, a strange portal opens up in the mine and a person jumps out of it to your rescue. He says he doesn't remember much, but it's clear when you bring him to Crowley that this boy is also from your world, despite being a mage, and until the headmage can think of a better solution, he assigns "Yutu" to your dorm.

Something a certain someone has an opinion about.

notes: When I was re-working my masterlist I deleted a fic that I meant to be the start of a series where Yuu’s child travels back in time to try and prevent the destruction of Twisted Wonderland and their parent's untimely death. For some reason I wrote that child as having been born after Yuu was forced to leave Twisted Wonderland with modified memories, so he doesn't actually know that much about his dad until he gets iseakaid just like Yuu did to attend Night Raven in a much more dystopian setting. Anyway if I ever go back to that concept I'll probably re work it, but I thought it would be fun to share my notes about the guys reaction to this newcomer who gets sorted into Ramshackle Dorm. They/them used for Yuu as always but they are implied to be afab, "Yutu" is not meant to be the child's real name, and he is meant to be wearing a disguise to make his identity less obvious. Actual fic can be found on my masterlist.

Heartsabyul

Ace- is legitimately worried about the intentions of this weird newcomer but it comes off as him being a jealous brat so no one takes him seriously. Look, something just doesn't feel right about this! Your world doesn't have any mages but now one shows up? And he's weirdly familiar with you? Cmon someone other than him start asking some questions please! Tries to have "a talk" with Yutu, who is trying really hard to understand what his parent saw in his dad and... just not getting it at all. RiP Ace you have been assigned cringe before the kid has even been born.

Deuce- only concerned with making a good impression because if this person is from Yuu's world then they might value his opinion on.... things. Also an honor student would try to win over his crush on his own merit and not by intimidating potential competition. Actually ends up befriending Yutu and really liking his vibes, which gives the boy a lot of guilt because he knows his dad would probably feel very guilty if he knew what his son's life has been like.

Trey- he is slightly worried about how Yuu will handle having to take care of an actual person and not just a monster, but he also feels like it is none of his business so he doesn't pay too much attention. But then Yuu mentions that Yutu is a pretty talented baker and that's why they haven't been bugging him for sweets as much. Well isn't that just ADORABLE??? Trey isn't upset about this at all nope, not one bit. He's extremely upset and Yutu is stirring the pot because he thinks making his dad angry is funny.

Cater- oh look, another person who won't be a part of his life eventually. He doesn't get any weird vibes from Yutu so he doesn't worry about what his appearance might mean too much, but there is something about the way the newbie insists on trying to be his friend that reminds him a lot of Yuu and isn't helping with this whole "denial of the crush" thing he is trying to do. If he didn't know any better he would think Yutu was doing it on purpose.

Riddle- immediately starts butting into Yuu's life more to give them advice about being a proper housewarden. Not that he didn't already see them as one, it's just disciplining a human student and disciplining Grim are a bit different and no he is not using this as an excuse to spy on the Prefect how dare this brat suggest his intentions are impure?!?! (Ah but you see Riddle you can't just take Yutu's head off in front of their Prefect because you want them to liiiike you and he is so going to use that against you.)

Savanaclaw

Leona- understands that something is not quite right as Yutu's explanation of who he is doesn't quite pass the sniff test. Literally, the brat smells like Yuu with his magic and since Leona was one of the people who got a good look at the portal Yutu came through he pieces things together pretty quickly. Not that he immediately goes and pulls a Vader on the kid, he just makes it clear he knows there is some time travel involved and demands to know what his goals are. He can leave the family shit for after he's secured the kid's existence.

Ruggie and Jack- while they have different opinions on the new kid, Leona's sense of smell still tells him Yutu's identity and as their dormleader he feels the need to take them aside and mention what he knows... sort of. He tells them that he's pretty sure time travel is involved and that Yutu is related to Yuu, but he neglects to mention the whole bit about who he thinks the father is... which drives them insane in completely different ways.

Ruggie thinks that since you clearly have a thing for beastmen anyway he would be stupid not to shoot his shot. He doesn't give two shits about whether or not Yutu is his kid, time isn't real so he can just rewrite it a bit.

Jack is determined to treat Yutu fairly and protect him since you are his friend and that's what friends do for each other's kids. Has a full blown panic over whether or not this might give the kid an identity crisis and takes him aside to reassure him he doesn't want to replace his real father, and that he will be happy as long as Yuu is happy. que the world's most awkward conversation

Octavinelle

Azul- Oh? Ramshackle has a new dorm member? And he's a mysterious mage... allegedly from the same world as Yuu... something doesn't make sense here but while he is figuring that out. Capitalism ho! This is a great money making opportunity he is observing and scheming and thinking about the perfect contract to get Yutu to spill all his secrets. Unfortunately, Yutu seems to be afraid of him for some reason? Not Floyd or Jade, just him. He can't say he dislikes it... but it is a bit odd, at least it gives him something to talk about with you???

Floyd- Also saw the portal that Yutu came through and thinks something must be up with how close the guppy seems to want to be with Yuu. Starts calling him baby shrimpy as a joke because of how clingy he is to you, but he really really hates it. He can't fight baby shrimpy because that will make you not like him, and he can't scare baby shrimpy off with a deal because he's weirdly smart with those sort of things. He also seems to really look up to Floyd... like that one spiderverse meme, and Floyd hates it! he already had a hard enough time getting Yuu alone when Grim was around he doesn't need a second baby unless it's actually his >:CCC

Jade- a new mage? How delightfully unpredictable. He's probably the only one genuinely happy Yutu is around because of how funny the story of his arrival is. The only upsetting thing about this is that he wasn't able to go camping with Yuu himself. Like Azul he senses something is wrong with Yutu's story, but he doesn't intend to press him until he has the new kid's trust. He's just here to help after all, there's nothing to be afraid of so long as there is no need for him to be jealous.

[heliads]

there's things i want to say to you

No one on this earth can get under your skin quite like Lando Norris. It would take something insane for you to be able to move past that. Maybe realizing that Lando's crazy for you would do the trick.

masterlistT

You have one mission for this particular race weekend, one mission alone, and that is to not mess up. On the track, off the track. Don’t fuck it up. This isn’t unusual by any means– flying around corners and down straights at such tumultuous speeds typically means you aren’t angling to make any mistakes anyway, but this weekend in particular needs to be perfect.

Everyone’s on edge right now, not just you. This is the time of year when contracts start expiring, when what had seemed like a decent season might end up being your last. It’s all on the wire, and at last it’s occurring to you, and everyone else for that matter, that their entire career is up to whatever they do on the track.

You’ve already sat down with your PR manager several times to discuss how you should handle this weekend, as well as the next few weekends until you can get a contract renewal locked in. You have no reason to doubt your current team, you’ve been delivering the results as asked, but there’s always the small voice in the back of your head wondering if you haven’t been picking up on the warning signs. You’ve heard of drivers getting blindsided before. Why couldn’t it happen to you?

So yes, although you’ve been just fine since your last contract signing, drivers have been let go for smaller offenses. That’s why you need to be damn near perfect this weekend. If you get through this latest race with no mistakes and some good points, you’ll be just fine. Once you’ve signed to your team again, you can relax. Up until that time, though, your behavior needs to be as proper as you can make it.

You’ve been managing such a task pretty well this whole weekend. Thursday you were nervous but in control all throughout the interviews, Friday landed you some good practices, and you did well enough in Saturday’s qualifying that you have nothing to lose sleep over yet, at least. You just need to get through today, and then luck will be on your side even more than before.

The race will start in less than an hour; you’re wandering the grid in the throngs of other drivers and team principles and spectators. At some point soon, you’ll have to head over to listen to the usual bungling of the host country’s national anthem, but until then, you’re putting on a good face. Your PR manager is flashing you discreet thumbs up whenever you see her. Life is good.

You weave around the various cars, not so close that you’ll be accused of spying but just close enough that you could, you know, if you wanted to. No one minds getting a better idea of their opponents’ sidepod designs anyway. Above all else, you keep an eye out for camera crews; Martin Brundle’s here somewhere, interviewing some poor sap, and you’d like to keep out of his way lest he turn to questioning you instead. The guy’s got a knack for getting under anyone’s skin, you don’t much feel like an interrogation today.

In fact, you can see him right now, eagerly thrusting his microphone towards some hapless driver. You see the papaya cap first, then hear the grating voice, and– well, maybe you’ll drift a little closer than before, because watching Lando Norris get picked to pieces by Martin won’t be the worst start to your race morning after all.

In single-seater racing, everyone is your enemy. At the end of the day, it’s you versus all nineteen other drivers on the grid. This means that you should have no particular arch rival, but if you were going to hate someone more than anyone else like that, it would be Lando by a long shot.

He’s just infuriating, that’s all. It’s like racing with a kid, he never learned to grow up, and every time you have to talk to him, you walk away wishing you could throttle him. Lando annoys you to death, and worst of all, he’s quite aware of it and proud of it, too. Usually, you go out of your way to avoid being near him, but you can make out the displeased look on his face from here, and if Martin Brundle is tearing him to shreds, well, you’d like to hear that more than anything.

You casually adjust course so you’ll be passing behind Lando. It looks like nothing at all, just you trying to navigate the packed grid, but you can hear every word of the conversation happening between Martin and Lando now.

You can’t help but smile as you hear Martin questioning Lando.  “McLaren hasn’t had as good of a weekend so far as they’d like, I think,” Martin is saying, “What’s your strategy to turn that bit of bad luck around?”

Lando’s grin is frozen on his face like plastic. “Uh, we’ll definitely be gunning for whoever’s in front of us with everything we’ve got. Best strategy is to just go for it.”

Martin nods. You’re close enough now that you’re about to walk straight behind Lando, close enough that you swear Martin sees you just before he asks, “Anyone in particular that you’ll be going for?”

“Yeah,” Lando says, scratching his head absentmindedly, “Y/N L/N.”

Perfect timing. The cameraman quickly pans his camera between Lando’s deliverance of this answer to you, right over his shoulder like a devil. The worst part is that you genuinely don’t even think Lando knew you were there or planned it like that. He just likes throwing you under the bus for fun.

Martin chuckles– this must be the best thing for him all morning, really, drama like this gets him talked about like nothing else– and addresses his next question to you. “So, Y/N, what do you think about that?”

Lando turns around, evidently startled, but you just plaster on a smile. “He can try his best, but I won’t be letting anyone through today,” you tell Martin, and leave as soon as you can.

You can sense the cameras following you no matter how far away you go. Damn. And, as you walk further towards a group of your race engineers, you remember the most important part of your PR manager’s advice for this weekend:  avoiding trouble, not just putting on a good face. That hasn’t worked out so well for you now. You do very well in that race, but what the Internet focuses on the most in the days to come isn’t your result but endless gifs of your irritated face in the background of Lando’s interview when he says he’ll be targeting you.

It’s not the greatest, to say the least. So much for playing it cool before a contract is signed. Oh, PR’s going to have a holiday over this one. You’d almost be surprised with the speed at which they suggest a media activity to wipe the slate clean, except for the fact that they’ve probably been counting on you messing something up this weekend so they had to have backup plans. Always nice to be trusted, isn’t it?

The event actually isn’t that bad. They’ve gotten a good amount of you together for some manner of charity work/awareness raising/well intentioned propaganda nonsense. They love putting F1 drivers together on a program outside race week, like it’s some kind of proof they can point to when the press conferences seem more awkward than usual. See, they hang out all the time! Of course they like each other!

(They do not like each other. Not at all. Some do, but. Most are not some. You are not some.) 

Today, drivers will be in pairs, volunteering with children so motorsport can accrue a younger fanbase. Normally, you love events like this, the kids get so excited to talk to an actual live Formula One driver as if they’re typically just in display cases or something. Things will go wrong, fun times will be had, and your PR manager will ease off for a day or two provided that you do a good job. Not the worst thing in the world.

Usually, the organizers of such image-boosting nonsense at least try to put friends together. Quick camera cuts and a good deal of B-roll can only do so much to cover up the missed jokes, the cruel laughs. You’re with your teammate more often than not, a unified front, or else with one of the drivers you’re closer to. It’s easier that way. The smiles come more quickly.

That’s what you expect when you show up. Instead, you glance at the email telling you the place and the name and the time, and you see that you’ll be stationed with– no, no please– Lando. Lando Norris. Lando, the one boy you can’t stand more than anyone.

They know that. Of course they do. It is physically impossible to avoid that fact. As if you haven’t seen the YouTube compilations of terrible moments between the two of you, the Instagram posts with the hateful stares, the TikToks with captivating audios of every time you’ve slighted each other in the paddock or during interviews. You’re a bitch, he’s an ass, and neither of you get to be the good one coming out of those fights, but more often than not, it’s him.

There’s nothing you can do about it now. Causing a kerfuffle will only turn the organizers against you, and you refuse to show weakness in the face of British children, drivers or otherwise, so you keep your smile fake and your mouth shut. This is a good cause. You can hold your tongue for a few hours. The kids will, at least, appreciate it. Hopefully.

Lando’s already at your assigned station when you get there. He’s spinning aimlessly in one of the chairs they’ve given him, and you have to fight to hide your laugh at his rotation speed.

“Trying to train for G-Force, are you? I’m almost impressed with your dedication to the sport, Norris.”

Lando looks up with a start when you speak, and he hurriedly puts his feet down to stop his frenzied spinning. “You’re impressed with me? Glad to hear it.”

You roll your eyes, taking a seat on the chair next to him. “Oh, always. Do you know who put the two of us together on this activity? I want to have words with them.”

Lando snorts. “Not me, definitely. Whoever it is, they’re probably in witness protection at the moment. You look like you’re going to murder someone.”

“It might be you,” you tell him.

He groans. “Come off it. What have I even done to you? Can we not go without fighting for, like, five minutes?”

You scoff. “You’re the one who went after me on live television not three days ago.”

“Oh, you mean the interview with Brundle? That was so not my fault. He tries to trick you into going after other drivers, you know that.” Lando argues.

You arch a brow. “So he specifically tricked you into naming me as your first target? I didn’t know he operated at that level of mental warfare.”

Lando has the grace to look somewhat ashamed. “No. Uh. That may have been me.”

Thankfully, you’re interrupted by one of the event organizers coming in to tell you that the kids are arriving shortly. They pour in soon enough, about dozen children all thrilled to death about the fact that they actually get to talk to you and Lando. You’re soon distracted by the flood of questions directed towards you, ranging from kids wanting to know which drivers you’re best friends with to what superhero is your favorite.

You answer each question with equal solemnity, and before long you’re laughing with ease. You’re meant to be doing crafts and questions, so you help the kids make plastic beaded bracelets while you talk about the different colors of the flags and tyres. All in a day’s work.

Surprisingly, the fact that you have to do all of this with Lando right there beside you isn’t the worst thing in the world. He seems content to just watch you have fun with the kids with this weird, quiet smile on his face, and when everyone’s making their crafts, he’s bent over a project of his own, one that he refuses to let you so much as peek at.

At last, Lando straightens up and presents the finished product with a flourish. “It’s for you,” he says proudly, “Consider it a peace offering.”

You stare at it. He’s made a bracelet for you, complete with the same brightly colored beads that the other kids are using. Except, in the center, he’s spelled out a message—

You frown at him, confused. “This just says ‘driver.’”

“You are one,” Lando points out helpfully. 

There is a fight to not roll your eyes, and you are on the losing side. “Incredible.”

“I also made it in your team colors,” he says. He’s smiling at it. At you. Fondly.

It’s not an expression you usually associate with him, but you’re smiling too, aren’t you? You can’t seem to stop. It’s just— you’re here with him, and instead of fighting, he’s gone to the trouble of making you this. Your colors, your message. Fuck. 

You slip it onto your wrist before you can stop yourself. “Thank you.”

Lando’s grin broadens. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

You let out a frustrated huff. “You’ve ruined the moment. Stop having an agenda.”

“You’re still smiling despite my agenda,” Lando mentions. 

He’s unreal. It’s not as bad as before, though. Not that you’d tell him that much. 

Just in case he actually has ruined the brief moment of peace, Lando raises his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, then,” he says, “I’ll be better. Name one thing I can do to make this easier on you and I’ll get it done in a heartbeat.”

He’s expecting you to tell him there’s nothing he can do to improve himself in your eyes. It’ll make him seem like the bigger person and he’ll have the upper hand, then. Instead, you tilt your head to the side, considering him, and then at last point your finger at the offense on his chin.

“Shave the half-beard,” you say, “Please. It’s an eyesore.”

“Will that get you to stop complaining?” He asks, mouth twisting up in an amused grin. 

“Nothing can,” you argue back, “I thought you knew that.”

If anything, Lando only seems more pleased by your response. “I’m starting to learn.”

He’s stubbornly unwilling to argue with you. It would be infuriating, but for some reason, it still makes you smile thinking about it hours after you get back home, rubbing your thumb over the beads on the bracelet he strung for you. 

And, when you see him at the paddock for the next race, he’s fucking clean shaven. Not a whisper of a beard in sight. He spots you looking and winks. What the hell. 

It makes no sense. None at all. He doesn’t say a thing about it, and if he won’t, then you can’t either, because you’re not entirely sure that this isn’t just all in your head. Maybe he felt like shaving anyway. Maybe a girlfriend put him up to it or something. This prompts a frantic research session, and after perusing many F1 WAGs Instagram accounts, you’re certain that Lando isn’t dating anyone at the moment. This isn’t important information, of course. You’re just, you know, curious.

You keep the bracelet on. Tucked under a sleeve, always, no one needs to know and least of all Lando, but it stays on. You’re not entirely sure why. Luxury brands have offered you diamonds, but Lando made this for you, and for some reason, that makes it far more valuable in your opinion than anything else. It’s silly, but it’s yours. That’s all.

No one has picked up on the war waging in your head. Your PR manager mentioned once that she was glad you and Lando weren’t actively fighting anymore, and it took you a few moments before you realized she was right. Not only have you stopped sniping at each other in interviews, but a couple races now, he’s actually approached you in the paddock to talk, and what’s more, you’ve let him.

It’s stupid, and unreasonable, and definitely not something you should be devoting so much of your life to thinking about, but now that the seed has been planted in your head, it’s kind of impossible to ignore. Lando gets you water on hot weekends. He helps you avoid Martin Brundle when the commentator is out doing his grid walks. You seek him out to talk through race results. You laugh at each other’s misfortune, but it doesn’t sting like it did before.

He’s insufferable. You love him. 

You love him. 

It’s the first time you’ve admitted as much to yourself. You have a feeling that it won’t be the last. There is much more to you, to him, than just the fighting, so much more that you want to explore and express and linger over, but—

But Lando doesn’t want that, does he? Lando is a spoiled brat, a young Prince Charming who is very used to getting what he wants and not at all acquainted with people contradicting that. It’s why the two of you clashed for the first time. If he had wanted you in any sense of the word other than as an enemy, he would have done something about it at the start.

Even now, the two of you have been drunk in clubs before, have walked back to hotels alone in the middle of the night. If Lando wanted something from you, something more, he could have taken it. He hasn’t, so the awful truth you must admit to yourself if this:  he doesn’t want it at all. He’s studiously neutral, but nothing more than that.

It’s starting to gnaw away at you. Lando isn’t the only one who likes getting what he wants. Now that you’ve stopped hating each other, he’s closer to you than he ever has been, but yet it still isn’t enough. You can stand right next to him, can even lean against his shoulder, but it all means nothing.

It’s infuriating. It makes you act up, act out. Your shared friends on the grid invite you out to some gala, and you go because you know Lando will be there, and you leave early because you want him to follow you out. He does, and you two argue the whole way back, because if you can’t have him as you want, maybe you should push him away. It’ll certainly make things easier.

The two of you are squabbling in the back of the taxi about something unnecessary. Probably something he said and you escalated, if not the other way around. At last, you can’t take the weight of his disapproval anymore, and you ask the driver to let you out. It’s close enough to your hotel that you can walk, anyway. Lando can stay in the car and go back to his place. Problem solved.

It is, at least, until he chases you out of the car as well. He’s saying something about how you need to get back in the car, something about an approaching storm. You look up at the darkening sky and realize what he’s talking about. You had half thought that the distant thunder had been in your own head instead of across the city, but storm clouds are descending upon you now.

Lando shakes his head exasperatedly, hurrying you towards the door of the hotel. It really isn’t that far, but he still threatens to carry you there at least twice. His temper only grows more taut when he starts seeing lightning in the distance. It isn’t even raining here yet, but he doesn’t relax until you’re both through the door and out of harm’s way.

You, on the other hand, only freeze up when the roof is at last over your head. It occurs to you, not three steps into the shelter of the lobby, that your wrist is bare. Underneath your jacket, you reach over to scratch absentmindedly just beneath your other palm, but instead of hitting plastic beads, they touch only blank skin. You freeze in place, gaze swinging wildly to your forearm, but it’s true, the bracelet is gone. You don’t remember it coming off, but it’s gone now.

A frantic search of your pockets reveals nothing; as if they’re deep enough to hold anything, anyway, least of all this all-important thing. The bracelet was on your wrist when you left the cab, so it must have been lost while you were outside. It wouldn’t have been that long ago now. You could still find it.

Lando groans in irritation when you immediately make for the doors once more. “Y/N, come on������

You’re ignoring him, though. Lando’s going to think the worst of you anyway, and you want your bracelet more than you want his incensed remarks about how it’s such a bad idea to stay out in this weather. The storm is hurriedly dawning upon you, and the trees lining the walkways shake as if with fright or chill, but that doesn’t stop you from retracing your steps, silently praying that you’ll find the one thing you cannot bear to lose. You can buy an awful lot back, misplacing jackets or other jewelry isn’t that big of a deal, but that bracelet– well, Lando only made one of those, and it was yours.

You didn’t walk that far when you were out here, all things considered, so you’re able to pinpoint the possible bracelet locations quickly. Either here, behind the flowering tree, or there, along the stone walkway—

Lando has followed you out, raising his arm over his face to protect from the spattering of raindrops now starting to fall from the sky. “Y/N, come on, I’m serious, we have to go in.”

You hold up a finger, still looking only at the ground. “Just give me a second.”

Lando heaves another tremendous sigh. “What are you even doing?”

“Trying to find something I lost.” You have to raise your voice to be heard over a clap of thunder which, although isn’t necessarily nearby, still makes Lando flinch as if the ominous sound came from overhead. 

“It isn’t worth it,” he says, “we can find it later, I promise. Just get inside, will you?”

“No!” You shout back.

Lando casts a frantic look up at the approaching storm, then rushes over to stand in front of you, blocking you from moving any further. “Y/N, please. What could possibly be important enough to stay out here? You’re going to get struck by lightning.”

You try to escape past him, but Lando stays firm, refusing to budge until you tell him what the matter is. At last, you give in. “Fine. It’s your bracelet, the one you made me. You made it for me, I’m not losing it. You may not like me, not like– Not like I like you, but at least I can have that. That’s what I want.”

Lando’s face goes blank. Whatever he was expecting to hear, it wasn’t that. The naked surprise in his expression makes your stomach twist with shame, and you turn away, headed back to your search once more. Lando was caught off guard by your answer, so he isn’t able to stop you.

You hurry away from him. You don’t know what he’s thinking, or, hell, why he even made you the bracelet in the first place. Maybe it was for a specific reason, but it was probably just supposed to be a joke, something to be used against you, but you kept it anyway. You kept it, and you treasured it like gold.

You run further into the storm, away from him. The rain starts to fall even more than before. Maybe it’s okay, though. If the storm carries you away, if it drowns you in the flood, at least you won’t have to face him again. You look from side to side, searching for any pocket of plastic colors, but nothing, nothing.

Nothing, and then Lando’s voice, faint because of the storm, but still there somehow. Still there, despite everything you’ve said to him.

“I wanted you,” he calls back, shouting to be heard over the ever quickening wind. “I wanted you, but you hated me, and I thought it was better if we were enemies than nothing. At last then I could still talk to you.”

You feel as if you’ve been struck by lightning. The shock of it freezes you in place, even as the rain pounds down in sheets around you, chilling you through skin to bone and blood. It is only now, once your frenzy has been replaced by sheer immobilizing surprise, that you stand still long enough to spot the bracelet at last, tucked inside the cup of a stone on the walkway.

You reach out to pick it up, but your hand meets someone else’s before your fingers can close around the beads. When you look up, it’s him, it’s Lando, just as soaked from the rain as you, but here. Still here. Still here, for you.

He slides the bracelet over your wrist, then leans closer, just enough that you can feel the reverberations of his whispered hurry as he whispers it to you before urging you back towards the hotel once more. He’s pulled off his jacket and holds it above the two of you to protect from the wind and rain. It forces you to run so close to him that you can feel the heat radiating between the slim space from his ribs to yours. 

You feel it still, even after you make it past the threshold of the hotel and stand there, shivering, just behind the glass doors. You can see the storm wild outside– so crazy to think that you’d just been out there, with the wind tearing at the trees and the rain so devastating– but in here, it’s calm, completely still.

Lando remains just a breath away, slowly lowering his dripping jacket away from your head. “It’s you,” he repeats, “It’s always been you.”

After all of that, all of those revelations and discoveries, he still has it in himself to surprise you. The kiss is unexpected, but not unwelcome, and warms you head to toe despite the cold of the rain still pressed deep within your bones. It’s welcoming, inviting, and it tells you that despite everything, every fight, every reason not to stay– it will only get better from here.

f1 taglist: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey

[illubean]

Hi hellooo <3 I love your blog and since I have a thing for this bug-eyed boi, I wanted to ask you to please write a headcanon or a small one-shot (whatever you are comfortable) about teenage!illumi SOMEHOWWWWW having a secret friendship and he meets reader in the forest etc :)

Assassins Don't Have Friends

Characters: Teenager!Illumi Zoldyck Type: Fluff, oneshot, Teenager!Gn!reader

this turned out kinda long >.< idk how to feel about it tbh

Warnings: mention of human trafficking kind of?

Illumi Zoldyck was a perfect assassin and a perfect son. He never showed fear, vulnerability, was excellent at his job and followed all the rules to a t. Or so everyone thought.

It wasn't long ago that Illumi had went on the job that would unknowingly change his life, maybe about three months give or take. He was assigned to take out a member of the mafia known for trading illegal goods. Apparently he had owed the man who hired Illumi money and had no means of paying it. He was to dispose of the target swiftly and silently.

After the job had been done the young Zoldyck somehow failed to notice the figure in the corner, who had been watching him with surprised and tired eyes. Upon realizing he was not alone, the boy was quick to pin the figure down, ready to take their life at any given moment. Now that he was up close to this person, he realized it was another kid around his age, wearing tattered and dirty clothes. The part that intrigued him most is that they didn't seem afraid of him.

The mysterious person only smiled at him, eyes softening with admiration as they spoke.

"Thank you for saving me."

The young assassin stared blankly in confusion. Saving them? All he did was his job and you just happened to be there, he didn't really try benefiting you on purpose. Illumi lowered the needle he had pointed at the persons neck, eyes narrowing before he responded.

"What are you talking about?"

"That man you killed. I was just auctioned off to him and needless to say he was a horrible man, so thank you. I'm Y/n by the way."

Illumi got off of Y/n, turning around to leave before speaking up once more.

"I didn't kill him for you, I was doing my job. I should kill you too for being a witness, but I'll let you go this once."

The Zoldyck boy began to embark on his journey back home before he heard footsteps running to catch up to him.

"I never caught your name? Who are you anyway?"

He continued to walk, not once turning to face Y/n.

"Quit following me."

"But I have nowhere to go-"

"I don't care where you go, just get away from me."

It was silent for a few moments as the teens continued to walk. Y/n ignored Illumi's demands as they neared a path that stretched through a vast forest. At the end of the trail there was a large mountain. Illumi knows he shouldn't have led this stranger so close to his home, but something inside him wouldn't let him push them away.

"You still haven't told me your name. Are you like a secret spy or something? Geez we've been walking for so long- don't tell me we have to walk all the way up that mountain!"

The young assassin stopped when they got to the base of the mountain, causing Y/n to run into his back with a small 'oof'.

In front of them was a large stone wall with metal doors in the center.

"This is as far as I can allow you to get. I shouldn't have let you follow me for so long but frankly you don't pose any threat."

"Aww, I think you just let me follow you so far because you like me! Noowwww can I finally know the name of my new friend?"

Y/n smiled at the stoic male in front of them, blinking and awaiting a response.

"Assassins don't have friends, now leave."

Illumi approached the seven large doors of his home and began to push them open before pausing.

"It's Illumi."

He entered through those doors while Y/n stood confused for a few moments before realizing.

That was his name.

While the doors were closing he heard a voice yell from the opposite side.

"Okay Mr assassin! I'll come back here here every day to see you!"

{Pov switch? kinda?}

And that's exactly what you did. Every day for about a week you showed up at the foot of the mountain, sometimes convincing Zebro to call the butlers quarters.

After Illumi found out about this, he finally went down to meet them. This time you looked much cleaner, holding a small basket with a cloth over it.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I told you I would visit every day, didn't I? Oh, and this is for you. I managed to make a little money by fighting so consider this as a "thank you'. Y'know, for killing that guy?"

You held out the basket, gesturing for the boy in front of you to take it. He lifted the cloth to reveal some baked goods underneath. Illumi sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You can't keep trying to call the house. I told you assassins don't have friends."

"Welllll can't you make an acception for little ole me?" you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. "It could be our little secret!"

Without a word, Illumi grabbed one of your wrists and began walking into the forest surrounding his home. He stopped as the both of you came to a clearing, sitting down against the trunk of a tree.

"You're annoyingly stubborn."

You only smiled before sitting down next to him, reaching into your basket and pulling out two custard buns.

"Well it seems to work," you started, offering him one of the buns. "We're friends now, after all."

Illymi accepted the sweet treat with a sigh and ended up sitting there with you for hours. At some point you had both agreed to meet there once a week.

After these visits Illumi began developing a soft spot for you. He anticipated the days you would show up and the time you got to spend together.

Maybe he wasn't a perfect son.

He had secretly been seeing you without his family knowing and you were beginning to break down those walls of his.

Maybe he wasn't the perfect assassin.

Because after all, assassins don't have friends.

[weebsinstash]

Sort of a specific idea but

Bruce Wayne returns to Gotham to become Batman in his late 20s and he doesn't retire (at least from working in the field) until I believe he's in his 60s, so

It's entirely plausible to think of a platonic yandere Batman scenario where, you were a child involved in a disaster that he rescued, and some 10, 15 years later he runs into an adult you by whatever means and he can see you're struggling to make ends meet and you're having issues that ultimately stem from the trauma caused by that incident all those years ago, and he wants to help you, save you from your current situation, and maybe even finds out you've fallen to the dark side in all this time you were out of his sight

Like, the added drama if, in a way, he feels partially responsible for your current situatuon; he was still kind of green when you went through your accident. Maybe he feels like he should've kept a closer eye on you after the fact, helped make sure you were OK; you were just a little kid clinging to him in fear, so small you fit into his arms to be picked up. Could you even imagine it's something like, you lose your parents in a villain attack and you're just this frightened little kid and some 10 years later Bruce meets you as an adult and you're either an addict, a criminal, both, and potentially even a metahuman on top of everything else so you have the capacity to be legitimately dangerous

See, a lot of the thematic elements of Batman as a franchise itself is that many of the Batman villains were sort of just, normal people that had horrible things happen to them that, while not being justified, may be understandable. A lot of Batman villains carry underlying themes of, being victims of abuse, victims of society, victims of disability or mistreatment for that disability, so, from a narrative standpoint, you then have Batman seeing you as not just someone he feels he failed to fully save, but now, you could potentially end up going down a dark path like so many others he's personally seen spiral, and he doesn't want to have to put you in Belle Rev or Arkham.

Batman loving you and wanting to protect you but for your own good he ultimately feels has no choice but to contain you until he can either convince you to control your powers or he finds a way to suppress them by force. Then, he wants to take you under his wing; you're broken and hurting, just like a part of him will always be. If you've got no one else to look after you anymore, he can be your new family.

Batman going into full helicopter Batdad mode where he's just, fully convinced that just about every negative action or choice you make is just stemming from trauma or some other problem he has to fix and basically, kind of in a way robs you of the autonomy and accountability that you have making your own choices as a whole. Oh, you haven't had mental healthcare all these years? Prepare for him forcing you to go to therapy and promising you he doesn't know what you talk about which is a lie because he has spy equipment to listen in on your sessions anyway. Hope you like being forced to take medication for conditions and disorders that you're not sure to believe you've even been credibly diagnosed with.

Then of course you have all your new "siblings" and comrades in arms watching over you, ESPECIALLY once Batman becomes convinced that fighting crime with him and the others will be the outlet you need for your anger just like it is for him and most of the others in his traumatized gaggle of adopted children. NOW you've got this entire, basically half dozen or so prodigies with their own sets of skills, traumas, obsessions. Some see you as a playful rival. Others see you as more of an equal. They ALL see you as "sweet cinnamon roll, must protect"

Batman having to keep you from becoming radicalized. Batman dealing with this super-powered angry version of you that wants to take justice into your own hands, in YOUR way, which yeah, involves a lil killing, as a treat. Bruce absolutely convinced, and perhaps being right, that he's the only one that can save you from doing something that will ruin your life forever

You'll don your new costume and you'll like it. You'll have his symbol on your chest marking you as his family and you'll like it. You'll spend basically every waking moment either in his home, with a member of his found family, or with him, and you'll like it. Hell, maybe you'll even be finding your last name was legally changed to Wayne without evem being discussed with you, and guess what? You'll have no choice but to learn to like that, too :)

[whateversawesome]

Spy x Family Chapter 99: Fate and Destiny

It took a while for me to recover from that incredible chapter, so I had to take time to breathe and analyze things. And after thinking about it for a few days, the first thing that comes to my mind is that, when it comes to love, it's all about timing.

Wouldn't you agree?

Something I hadn't considered before but that is very prevalent in stories are fate and destiny. Now, after this arc with two very side characters that no one took that seriously, I see it very clearly.

Did you know that fate and destiny are not the same thing?

Fate is about the events or outcomes that are predetermined and we cannot control.

Destiny is something we can change with our choices. It's a purpose or direction shaped by our actions, habits, and even our thoughts. Sometimes, because of our habits and actions, certain destiny is unavoidable.

Like I mentioned before, I see Martha and Henry as a foil of Twilight and Yor. So, even though their stories and circumstances are very different, it's impossible for me not to compare both couples. This time, I would like to do that through the lens of fate and destiny.

The love story between Martha and Henry is about bad timing, about fate, about loss. They had a huge obstacle between them: war. And timing really played against for these two; from the false alarm when Martha was about to confess, to Henry thinking Martha was dead just when he realized his feelings. Fucking bad timing.

The love story between Twilight and Yor starts because of fate. That random encounter in that tailor shop...if Yor hadn't teared that dress, if Franky hadn't made that comment about Anya needing to play the part of a kid from a privileged family, if Twilight had chosen a different tailor shop, if they had come at a different time... Do you see it? That part was 100% fate.

However, what's happening between them now is a choice. It's destiny. Whether they are realizing it or not, they are choosing each other every day.

Think about mole hunt arc. I've talked about it before (because it's my favorite arc): By not killing Yuri, Twilight chose Yor over his mission, over his fears, over peace, over everything. It's that simple. And it's destiny at work. I think that arc and that precise action is going to come back and bite him in the ass; first in a bad way and then in a good way. (I suspect Yuri will be the one who finally discovers Twilight's identity. It has to be him, it's Yuri's destiny. But I think Yuri will also be a key a element to save the Forgers from an awful fate.)

Anyways, going back to Twiyor and the topic of timing, even though Twilight has his angsty moments when he thinks he can't love anyone and stay with his family (cue the violins), I think these two have very good timing (at the moment). They live together, they are at a relatively peaceful time in their lives (and in the story), so this is the time for them to develop that bond.

Will it always be like this? Pshhh...of course not! This is a story and things are going to complicate and get really tough at some point. Fate (and probably destiny too) will put our dear Twiyor and many other characters in trouble. A friend once told me that one day things would be so tough that we were going to miss those silly and fun extra missions and I agree.

BUT (before you start crying about this), let me tell you something: This is when destiny is really going to kick in.

When things get messy, when the Forgers separate, when we don't know if we'll get a happy ending, this is when Twilight and Yor must decide they want to be together. Here is when they will choose each other, like they always have. And when that finally happens, not only it'll be a glorious moment, but also I think it's when fate and destiny will work in their favor.

Why do I feel so optimistic about it? Well, look at another couple who seems to be at that point...

Didn't I tell you that when it comes to love, it's all about timing?

Bonus

Chapter 100 is almost here! So, plot wise, I think it will all come down to: Who is in that cabin with Martha?

Some possible theories are:

a) The Shopkeeper. I still think Martha could be involved with the Garden. If we see a young Shopkeeper (they seem to be more or less the same age) or someone involved with the Garden, we could finally get some answers about that mysterious organization.

b) Yor's family. Yor's parents are probably too young here, but maybe her grandparents?? I know it's a long shot, but a girl can only hope 😄 Plus, everything is linked in the sxf, so there's still a chance.

c) [Redacted]'s dad. Why? Well, he mentioned going to the border during Twilight's past arc. If it's him, he's probably as young as Martha and Henry.

c) Someone we don't know (but that will become important in the story).

Since it'll be chapter 100, I'm almost expecting a big revelation, so I'm leaning towards Shopkeeper or [Redacted]'s dad. We'll see!

[yeonzzzn]

the ending: park jongseong

a break the chain series: seven / seven

pairing: jay x afab!reader word count: 5.2k

synopsis: with the two youngest in danger, the pack fights to find them and push out the traitors to end this war once and for all.

genre: established relationship, vampire!jay, vampire!reader

warnings: swearing, blood + d!!th, that’s about it??

prt 1: vampires bleeding | prt 2: you complete me

☾ heeseung(1) | jake (2) | jungwon(3) | sunghoon(4) | sunoo(5) | niki(6) | jay(7) ☽

Heeseung hoped the traitors had no clue he was awake and had Jay communicate down the bond for everyone to meet in secret and quickly. Thankfully the traitor’s power of reading what is said down bonds only works when they are near everyone. 

And Heeseung knew exactly where they were. 

Everyone was already waiting when Jay and Heeseung arrived, the queen was pacing back and forth in the small cellar room, stopping in her tracks to see Heeseung awake and alive. 

“Oh, Hee!” she cried, rushing to her husband and embracing him in her arms, tears streaming down her face, “Don’t ever scare me like that again!” 

Heeseung pulled his mate back and cupped her face, kissing her tenderly, “I’m so sorry baby,” he whispered after pulling his lips from hers. 

You quickly ran to Jay’s side, his arms already opening to embrace you, “What happened with Lilly?” 

Jay glanced at the king and you followed his eyes, seeing the blood that stained his face. Heeseung killed her. 

“They were going to kill her anyways,” the king mumbled, pulling his mate to his side and standing up straighter, “If we kept her alive her enemies would have continued fighting us,” he looked at every single person in the room, “We need to get our kids back.” 

The witch fumbled with the rings on her fingers, “What do you suggest we do? The traitors have them and will cut communications between the twelve—thirteen including Archer—of us off the minute we confront them.” 

Sunghoon took her fidgeting hands in his, rubbing thumbs over her palms in hopes of calming her down, “We will get them back,” he promised, “There’s thirteen of us, we are unstoppable.”

Heeseung agreed, “The traitors only have a small circle, the rest of the royal guard follows me.” 

“And how are you so sure?” Archer said as he kept his arms crossed and leaned against the wall, “From what Jay said down the bond and word passed to me, they have been watching your every move. How are we so sure they aren’t playing both sides to deceive you in the end?” 

“Archer!” his twin sister snapped, “Do you have doubts about his words?” 

“Hey, now,” Jake said, pulling her to him, “Baby, let’s not assume everything, okay?” 

Archer just shrugs, “Heeseung, I am on your side, always. But I don’t want to step out of this room and be blindsided.” 

The room fell silent and all eyes were on the king. 

“Want to know how we know?” Jungwon spoke up, stepping up beside the king, “As the second in command, I did digging. Watching when everyone thought I wasn’t.” 

Jungwon’s mate whistled, “Leader, second in command, and a spy? What can’t you do?” 

Jungwon just smirks at her then continues talking, “It wasn’t hard to figure out who was and wasn’t with us.” 

Jay furrowed his brows, hand squeezing tighter at your hip, “So you knew this entire time along with Heeseung and never said anything?!” 

Both Heeseung and Jungwon slightly looked at him, their faces filled with guilt and regret.

“I told you,” Heeseung sighed, “I had people up my ass twenty-four-seven, it was kind of hard to give out any information.” 

“When Heeseung first suspected a traitor and that our bond was being cut, he wrote it out to me on a paper secretly, and we started to test it out,” Jungwon held Jay’s stare, “It didn’t take long to figure out this person had that kind of power.” 

“If I could have told you all,” Heeseung said, looking every person in his pack in the eyes, “I would have the minute I knew.” 

“We understand,” Sunoo nodded, “Just tell us what we can do to get Niki and __ back and end this war.” 

Heeseung nodded. This wouldn’t be an easy fight, some would get hurt, but in the end, once it was over, it would be all worth it. 

The witch will keep hold in the cellar with her magical items to search where they are keeping the kids while the elf will be at her side and holding up a barrier of protection on everyone, she wouldn’t be able to hold it for long, so the window for the rest to end the traitors was small, every second counted. 

Archer and his twin sister will be at the rear, since they are skilled with bows and arrows, they will use their weapons to support at the back. 

Jake and Sunghoon will be a unit off to the left of Jay and Heeseung, and the queen, while Jungwon and Sunoo are to the right. 

You and Jungwon’s mate were to be in the middle. With her electricity powers, the witch gave her the crystal that suppressed a fraction of her power inside it and was told to only break it if needed. She was also given a crystal to amplify the power. She was a walking unit of her own. Considering the fact Jungwon was the one who turned her and he was already a unit himself, it only made sense she would be just as powerful as him. 

But you? You felt helpless. Sure you had super speed and vampire strength and were able to learn how to dual wield some daggers, but you had nothing else to bring to the table. You were surrounded by powerful beings. Each of them had something so special, so many gifts. 

Jay stood at Heeseung’s side, listening carefully to the plan he had in mind. His eyes drifted to you, taking notice of how you backed yourself away from the group and stared down at the floor. He could read it all over your face, the way you were doubting yourself. 

Jay stepped back, “YN,” he softly said, his fingers twisting themselves with yours, “What are you thinking?” 

You kept your gaze down on his boots, “I can’t help, not the way I want to.” 

His hands were now cupping your face and lifting it up to look at him, “Why are you talking this nonsense?” 

You cupped your hands over his, “Dorian almost killed me,” Jay winced at the memory of seeing Dorian push you off that cliff, watching your body fall into the water, remembering how pale you looked, and how cold your body was. He hated remembering it. Hated Dorian for what he did to you and gave you the scar he did until it thankfully went away after Jay turned you, “What makes me think I could be strong enough to fight this enemy when I was powerless against Dorian?” 

Jay pinched your cheeks, “Don’t talk like that!” he softly hissed, “You were human when Dorian…” Jay sighs and shakes his head, “You’re stronger now, powerful in your own way. I’ve seen you use those daggers. Baby, you’re so strong.” 

You wanted to believe him. Truly wanted to believe him. 

Jay rubbed his thumbs against your cheekbones, “I love you,” he placed a kiss on your forehead, “So goddamn much it drives me insane.” 

Jay wished he could give you the confidence you were looking for. But he’s still how you fight, the drive you have, and even how stubborn you are. You’ve made a fine vampire and will continue to be a great one. He just wants you to see it. 

“Jay,” Heeseung called him back over, “You and YN get back over here, it’s almost time.” 

Jay quickly pressed a couple of kisses to your lips and pulled you back towards the group. He’ll do everything in his power to get you to see how amazing and strong you are. 

—

Everyone walked to the lobby. Sunoo’s elf already started the protection barrier and Sunghoon’s mate sat in the cellar surrounded by her magic items and drew out a circle on the floor to look for the kids. 

Heeseung leads the pack, quickly stopping and holding his arm out. 

“You’re awake, my king,” E said with a smile, “Welcome back.” 

Heeseung tilted his head, not saying a word. 

E chuckled, “I’m assuming you had fun with our Lilly,” he held his arms behind his back, “I can smell her blood that’s still plastered over your face and clothes.” 

Heeseung was the one smirking now, feeling her now dried and crusted blood cracking against his skin, “She welcomed it. Should have seen the look she gave me, begging me to kill her.” 

E hummed, “It’s better this way, she tried to kill you after all,” Jay scoffed, causing E’s eyes to shift to him, “I suggest you watch your tone, false king.”

Jay took a step in front of Heeseung, “Or what?” 

“Jay, stop!” you tried to shout down the bond, only for it to not reach him. Your hands trembled, this was it. Everything was about to start. 

The queen stood a bit behind Heeseung, her eyes glowing crimson, “You will not speak to him that way.” 

E tilted his head, eyes glaring at her. 

Before any more could be said, M came running from the side room, “Oh King Heeseung!” she shouted, “You’re awake! Oh good heavens—“ 

Jungwon moved fast, his hands gripping the side of her face and twisting it, the crack echoing in the lobby. Jake and Sunghoon were at his sides, grabbing a hold of her arms and pulling, the limbs detaching from her body and Jungwon pulling his blade out and cutting deep into her throat, pushing through until her head was no longer attached to her body. Blood spilled across all three men’s faces and clothes, dropping M’s body to the floor. 

E stood up straighter, gripping his hands tightly, eyes flickering crimson, “Now, was that so necessary?”

Heeseung laughed, his blades appearing in his hands as he pointed one at E, “You don’t take me for a fool, do you? I know you cut off our bond and she could read anything that was said down it,” Heeseung tilted his head to the other side and down, eyes piercing into E, “I caught along a long time ago, traitors.” 

The only sound that could be heard was E’s laughter echoing the castle. You clenched your hands into fists, anger boiling your blood as seeing the man who was supposed to help protect the king, laugh his ass off. 

“I knew you were a good one,” he said, starting to walk back and forth in a pacing manner, “I’ve told you that since the beginning.” 

Heeseung narrowed his eyes, remembering all that time ago when E told him he knew Heeseung would be king and make a fine one. But nothing made sense, not when E wanted him dead. 

“Spill,” Jay snapped, his own weapons appearing, “We aren’t playing these mind games anymore!” 

E stopped pacing and glared at your mate, “Lilly told you everything.” Jay snarled at him, and E just chuckled, “It’s all true. I want Heeseung fucking dead!” 

The rest of the males pulled their weapons free, inching themselves closer to their king. 

“Looks like you’ve failed, obviously,” Heeseung smirked, “Your pons kind of suck.” 

“Dorian was trial and error,” E waved off, “I had faith but not a lot. And Lilly? She was so close yet so far.” 

“Why?” the queen snapped, “What did Heeseung do to you to deserve this?!” 

E smiled, “Why my dear queen,” he leaned forward, “He killed the king. That’s the whole problem.” 

Your body tensed, E was pissed off that Heeseung killed the previous king??

E continued his pacing, “I had a plan, you see, to take out the previous king so I can finally have the throne. But then poor, poor Heeseung’s dear friend had to act out and get murdered by the king.” 

Heeseung gritted his teeth, “Don’t speak of Alannah like that!” 

E ignored Heeseung’s outburst and continued, “As I’ve said before, you’ve had a fire burning in you the moment the previous king dragged your ass in here, so ready for a war that hadn’t happened.” 

The queen placed a hand on her mate's forearm, hoping to keep him calm. 

E continued, “I had everything lined up perfectly on how I would kill the king and take the throne. I didn’t even want to change how he was doing things around here,” E stopped pacing and looked Heeseung deep in the eyes, “I just wanted to be king.”

Jay was gritting his teeth and clenching his hands, E didn’t give a shit about making changes around here. He wanted to rule. Jay, Jake, and Heeseung went through hell and back and more because of the previous king and all E wanted to do was continue that pain and suffering. Jake was also clenching his fists tightly, Sunghoon inching himself closer to his best friend. 

“But you,” E pointed at Heeseung, “You just had to get angry over Alannah’s death and take revenge that night. I watched you steal from the armory and make your way to the study. I watched the fire set ablaze in your eyes as you sliced his neck and severed his head from his body,” E was now clenching his jaw, “It was too late to stop you after you tossed his damn head into the fireplace and dragged his body out to the yard. I do have to say, it was a powerful move on your end to make it a public execution of the remainder of his body.” 

Jay glanced over at Heeseung, the memory of barely running out of the castle with Jake at his side to see Heeseung tossing the remnants of the previous king’s body into the fire. Watching the power transfer to Heeseung and seeing the change of his crimson eyes burning their gold. It was the start of the three of them escaping this place and never looking back until now. 

“It was hard to track you down after the three of you escaped,” E continued with a shrug, “But once I found you and saw you created a pack,” he sighed, “I had to create an army myself to take you out.” 

Heeseung was now laughing, throwing his head back and letting out an exhale. He flung his head back forward, eyes now golden, “Where are my kids?” 

E chuckled, “I poured my heart out and this is what you have to say?” 

Heeseung’s fangs grew to their point and Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon, the queen, __, and yourself all let your eyes glow crimson, feeling the power Heeseung was radiating and passing on between everyone. Archer and __’s bows drew back, E only being able to see their crimson eyes from the distance they were in. 

“I’ll ask one more time,” Heeseung warned, “Where is Niki and __?” 

E just smirked. 

A small sparkle of light came into view and stopped in front of Heeseung. Sunghoon smirked, “My mate found them.” 

E’s smirk dropped, his body tensing and preparing for what was to come. Heeseung’s smirk at the globe of light and the way his eyes flickered to E told him everything. War was officially about to be unleashed. With a whip of his hand, he signaled for his army to come to his aid, Heeseung and the rest of the pack were already on the move towards him. 

They knew where their kids were and now it was time to end this. 

Heeseung shifted to make a move at E, but he blocked it. But Heeseung didn’t stop. Shoving his body fully against the courtier and breaking through the doors of the castle, the night sky came into their view. 

The rest of the pack ran right behind them. E’s army surrounds them. 

“I love you,” Jay said down the bond to you. Your heart raced. E must have been caught so off guard he dropped his powers for enough time. 

“I love you, too,” you said back, and you could feel the smile Jay had even with you running behind him. 

“Let’s fucking end thi—“ Heeseung barely was able to say down the bond before E cut it back off. Now shoving Heeseung off him and jumping away, pulling his sword out of thin air. 

The males surrounded E, arrows flying left and right from the dhampir and Archer, targeting E’s army. Jungwon’s mate was quick to break both crystals, her electricity flowed throughout her body, the yellow aura radiating around her as she sped through the army, sending shockwaves their way. 

The army on Heeseung’s side finally showed up, helping you all take care of the others. 

You held your own against the enemy, dodging and turning just how you were taught in training, how Jay showed you. You could feel his hands against your skin as he showed you how to use the daggers, and how he moved your body. It replayed like fire on your skin as you shoved the dagger into the enemy’s chest, using the other to cut through his neck, taking his head clean off and his blood coating your face and clothes. 

Your eyes burned their crimson as you continued to fight your way through E’s army with the help of __ electrocuting them as she went. You rush right behind her. Jay’s words of encouragement from earlier spun around in your head like a web, you weren’t useless. You are powerful in your own way and the way you played the battlefield was proof. 

Jay and Heeseung tagged teamed E, taking turns rushing him back to back to not let him have any time to think or react. And the time either of them failed to make a move, Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, or Jungwon made up for it. E was strong, a lot stronger than what Lilly was. Which made sense considering E has been alive a lot longer than all the boys combined. His stamina and speed were like nothing Jay had ever gone up against. Same with the other males. E recovered and healed fast, making it harder to take him down. Along with the army of his that was attacking at the same time, this seemed impossible. 

With their communications down and not being able to coordinate when to strike, this fight was going to drag out longer than they wanted.

Jay gritted his teeth as he lashed forward, swinging his blades quickly, but E moved just as fast, shielding himself with his arms and Jay’s blade slashing through them. 

No moves were working. No amount of swinging their blades worked. The males grew tired and the lack of not being able to drink blood before this fight was starting to wear them down. 

All six males had injuries. Their breaths are uneven. Arrows stopped flying across the sky signaling that Archer and __ were out. 

They surrounded E, circling him and catching their breaths. E just chuckled, “Have had enough yet?” 

Jay locked his jaw tighter, twirling his blades, “When are you going to give up?” 

E laughed, shooting his eyes over to Heeseung, “Not until he’s dead and I’m king!” 

You and Jungwon’s mate finished off a circle of enemies, looking over to the boys, “They need blood,” you said, eyes scanning your mate up and down, seeing the exhaustion weighing him down. 

She nods, voice shaking, “I don’t know what to do…” 

A sparkle of light came into both of your views, it flickering, “Go to them quickly,” the witch whispered through the orb, “E has more of his army coming. The boys need blood. Now.” 

“How—“ __ started to say.

“Your blood. You both may be vampires, but your blood is still very much human circulating your veins until it exceeds out.” 

“What about you, __ and __?? Sunghoon, Jake, and Sunoo will need blood too!” you quickly said, worried about your other pack members. 

A chuckle came from the orb, “Don’t worry, it’s all handled.” 

You and Jungwon’s mate looked at each other quickly then back at the orb, seeing it disappear. 

You then see Jake’s mate running towards you, Archer, the witch, elf, Niki, and his mate right behind them. You could have cried from happiness. The whole pack was here together. They could end this right now. 

You ran with the others, “Do the boys know?” 

The witch smiled, sweat dripping down her face, “More and then some. My magic is running out, I have only so much left. But everything is coming to plan.” 

You didn’t question it, just nodding and rushing to your mate. 

E’s smirk dropped seeing Niki and his mate join in, and then frowned seeing each female stand by their mate. 

“What are you plotting?!” he snapped, eyeing down Heeseung as the queen pressed her back to her king’s chest. 

“What?” Heeseung smirked, wrapping his hand to the front of his mate's neck and tilting her head to the side, exposing her neck and leaning down, “You think we don’t have anyways to communicate?” 

E whipped his head around to Sunghoon and the witch, smirked lined both their faces as Sunghoon’s hand tilted his mate's head to the side, his fangs coming to a point, “We always find a way,” he said, then sank his teeth into his mate's neck, her lips parting from the pressure of his fangs digging in, his free hand gripping her waist as he sucked in her blood. 

Jay pressed your back to his chest, one hand on your jaw and the other on your hip. His mouth watered at the very thought of drinking your blood again, eyes crimson and fangs fully pointed, “I love you,” he whispered into your ear then pierced your skin, squeezing you tightly as he inhaled your blood. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeated over and over to himself, wishing he could repeat it down the bond or verbally to you. But you knew, you could feel it in the way he held you close. 

Each male one by one bit into their mate's neck, every female glaring E down as the males regained their strength. 

Heeseung finished first, exhaling with pleasure as he licked the dripping blood from his mate's wounds before they closed up. His eyes are now burning holes into E. 

“Ha! What do you think drinking from your mates will do?” E snapped. 

Niki cracked his knuckles, “Gives me plenty of strength to beat your ass for locking us ten feet under the damned castle.” 

“It’s not just drinking from our mates,” Heeseung said, twirling his blades, “You really need to stop dismissing our magic users.” 

E narrows his eyes, slowly turning to look at the witch and elf, both females snapping their fingers, colorful auras surrounding each of the boys. 

“What did you girls do?” E snarled. 

The witch looks up at Sunghoon, ice crystals forming at his hands, “We gave them a power boost,” she said. 

The elf leaned against Sunoo, his index fingers twirling in a circle, and rocks from the ground started floating up and circling his fingers, “After our second in command’s mate showed off her new abilities, we decided to do research and dig deep into our mate’s auras and gave them a boost.” 

Jake snapped his fingers and fire flicked from the tip of his index finger, a chuckle leaving his lips, “Always knew I had a fire within me.” His dhampir mate rolled her eyes but kept herself pressed against him anyway, a massive smile on her face. 

Niki unfolded his hands, palming facing the sky as darkness floated out of it, his eyes locked on E. 

Jay flexed his hands, a smirk spreading on his lips. He was stronger. So much stronger. 

E fixed his eyes between Jungwon and Heeseung, then laughed, “Guess the two of you aren’t so special huh?” 

Heeseung smiled and placed his index and middle finger on his temple, “Jungwon?” 

Jungwon was immediately at his king’s side in a flash. It was so fast you didn’t even see him move. Vampires already have super speed, but now Jungwon topped that speed. Even E was in shock, his eyes widening now seeing Jungwon resting his arm on Heeseung’s shoulder. 

His eyes locked onto Heeseung, “I am assuming you can communicate with them now.” 

Keeping his fingers to his temple, he cocked his head to the side, glancing at his pack members one by one, “Let’s end him.” 

E wasn’t ready for the rush of all fourteen of you. Each of the male’s powers threw him off along with the leftover magic both the witch and elf had that they were sending his way. You, the dhampir, Archer, Niki’s mate, and the queen rushed him too, swinging your weapons left and right at him in turns with the boys. E was panicking, and it was going to be his downfall. 

E wasn’t expecting this. His whole plan was to tire them out and pick’em off one by one. He already knew Heeseung had guards in his corner. But he figured with the youngest ones not around they would falter and break. But that wasn’t the case. 

He couldn’t keep up with their blows. With the ice, fire, darkness, strength, speed, gravity, their weapons, magic, and Heeseung leading them telepathically. All he could do was smirk, he underestimated the king and his pack. 

Heeseung’s pack was already known to other packs on how powerful they were when it was just the seven of them. E knew the truth all along that it was because Heeseung was secretly the king. But now seeing how unified this pack was with their new powers and mates, they being a powerhouse still holds true. Even if Heeseung wasn’t king, these fourteen would still be the most powerful. 

And he was an idiot to think he could break them one by one. 

But he kept fighting anyway, praying for that small ounce of hope that he’d come out on top. That little confidence landed his hand on your neck, squeezing tightly and digging his nails into your skin. 

The world seemed to have slowed down for Jay, his heart rate racing at seeing E’s grip on you and the way he lifted you up in the air. 

“You’re the one Dorian almost killed,” E laughed with a tilt of his head, “Even with the scars gone I can still see them burning deep within.” 

You gripped your hands onto his wrist, clawing at his skin in hopes of breaking free. You were losing oxygen and fast, gasping for air while fighting against him. 

Jay’s jaw locked, feeling that string of fate connected to you loosening. 

“Jay,” Heeseung warned, “Don’t do anything stupid!” 

“He has my mate!” Jay snapped and without a second thought, he rushed forward. 

E laughed, moving quickly in time with Jay. 

The only thing that could be heard now was your screams as E’s sword split down Jay’s chest and exited his back. 

Blood dripped down his body and out his mouth, but Jay kept his eyes locked on E, “You’re the cause of my mate almost dying!” Jay screamed, using his strength to break the sword in half and swing his blade to completely cut E’s arm off. 

The pain of losing his limb forced his grip on you to drop, sending you back to the ground and hands reaching for your throat to regain air. 

One moment you were beside them, and the next you were away, Jungwon handing you over to the queen and rushing back, “Jay!!” you tried to scream, seeing your mate drop to one knee as he gripped the blade of the sword and pulled it out of his body. 

Jungwon grabbed E’s remaining arm and pulled it, breaking it out of his socket. E’s screams now fill the battlefield. 

Sunghoon slammed his fists to the ground, freezing E’s knees down to keep him from moving. Niki stood behind him, placing his hands to the side of his face and pressing the darkness against his senses, him losing sight. 

Heeseung rushed over, blade in hand, and shoved it into E’s chest, “This is for forcing my pack and me out of hiding,” he pulled the blade out and thrust it back in, “This is for when Dorian almost killed YN,” he repeated the actions, listing off each thing E has caused towards his pack. Each thing that led to the events of today. One by one getting his revenge in. 

Jay pulled himself to his feet, taking Heeseung’s other blade and pressing it to E’s neck, the sizzling of his skin being music to Jay’s ears, “This is for almost killing my brothers and putting my mate through the bullshit she had to go through.” 

E just smirked through the pain, “Haaaaa, what do you plan to do now that you’ve killed the entirety of the royal guard beside the small amount that follows you, false king?” 

Jay looked at Niki, signaling him to remove the darkness from E’s eyes, forcing him to look at him, “We will remain as the strongest pack, keeping Heeseung in power.” 

E laughed again, “That will only go so far.” 

Jay shrugged, pressing the blade deeper into his skin, “We will break the chain you all created.” 

E’s smirk fell and it was such a sight to see from Jay. And Jay’s face would be the last thing E will ever see. Using his strength, Jay sent the blade through, gripping the top of E’s head and ripping it from his body.

“Jake!” Heeseung commend. Jake throws a ball of flames at the body. The fourteen of you watching it burn to ashes. Jay took a final look at E’s head and then tossed it into the flames. 

It was over. 

It was all over. 

Jay fell back to his knees, head spinning from the blood loss from the wounds. You were at his side immediately, screaming for the witch and elf and Heeseung to do something quickly.

The three of them patched Jay up while the remaining of the royal guard killed off the rest of E’s army, leaving an abundance of vampire bodies on the castle grounds. 

You held Jay close, “You did it, Jongseong.” 

He cupped your face and gave you a weak smile, “It’s over.” 

“Not yet,” the king said, looking over the dead bodies, “We need to take care of this mess and fast.” 

Jake smirked, “Leave it to me.” 

The bodies were piled into the castle, Jake unleashing flames from both hands as he set the castle ablaze. Not leaving a single part untouched by his flames. 

The fourteen of you watched the castle burn. The males held onto their mates tightly. 

Heeseung, Jay, and Jake felt nothing as they watched the castle that completely ruined their lives burn into rumble. Nothing but terrible fucking memories lay there. They can all burn. Completely burn. 

Jay finally took his eyes off the burning castle and looked down at you, staring at the part of your neck Dorian once sunk his teeth into, draining you completely of life before tossing you over that cliff. In a way, Jay was thankful the world turned out the way it did because he got you out of it. He’d still watch the world burn for what it did to you. But he had you for forever, and for that he was happy. 

He pulled you closer to him, pressing his lips to your head. 

“What now?” the queen asked, folding her arms on top of Heeseung’s that were wrapped around her.

Heeseung looked at the burning castle, then up at the sky, seeing the beautiful orange that came through from the rising sun, “I have an idea.”

—perm tlist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle

@jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia

@wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @skzenhalove

@fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @criminalyun

@cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez

@jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @pockettwinzz @vixialuvs

@seunghancore @enha-cafe @ppanghoon @sunpov @zeeloveshee

@hxxsxxng @moonrisearies @brownsugarbaybee @nshmrarki

@vveebee @teddybeartaetae @kookify @abysofsteel

@aileeeeeeeeeeeee @hee-lvrr @lilyuwon @1309zip

—taglist: @jwnghyuns @en-happiness @honeybunnee @jaklvbub

[dc-gotham-instincts-wild]

I've been on fire with these AUs lately, here's another smaller one:

Jason goes back in time, or, more accurately, gets thrown into a parallel timeline where he realizes he can change the course of this one.

It's right after he became Robin, so he doesn't have much to change yet. However, he actually does fight off some villains before the past Bats get there lol. Because Red Hood is as feral as the streets he was raised on, and you can't change that.

Anyway, he decides to go spy on past Tim. The kid who would grow up and 'replace' him.

.....

What kind of parents leave a baby three year old alone in the giant house for months with no one but some less-than-attentive servants? Also did this kid, this little kid, have no self preservation instincts? He forgot to eat or sleep a lot, dammit. Let alone with the whole roof-jumping things.

Jason cannot believe how just tiny his kid brother was back then. He's a bit smaller than he should be.

So this is why Tim acts like he does. Jason makes a mental note to be more... gentle, with his crazy kid brother when he gets back to his timeline.

Anyway, after watching Tim be emotionally neglected and just having no one and realizes that Tim lived like this for years before joining the Bats, Jason waits a bit so things have a chance to settle (And because he's still not sure), and when Tim is about five, he shadows the little guy as he wanders Gotham after the three Bats.

When Tim falls asleep on a random rooftop (he five in this, guys) in the freaking snow, Jason can't take it any longer.

He snatches the little guy off the rooftop, sneaks into the Batcave, and leaves tiny Tim there, with a small sticky note he steals and writes that this is the neighbours' kid who is being neglected (And if you want, abused) , and signs it off as 'Anonymous who totally didn't find this feral tiny gremlin on a rooftop and semi-kidnap him'.

Tiny Tim is so tired that he doesn't wake up during any of it lol.

Past Bruce, past Dick, and past Jason come back to see a little boy conked out in the Cave, a sticky note next to him saying that he's the neighbours' kid who is being neglected.

The note is signed 'Anonymous who totally didn't find this feral tiny gremlin on a rooftop and semi-kidnap him'.

Bruce notes that the tiny kid is rather small and thin, not to mention freezing.

Dick and Robin!Jason take one look at past Tim and go "he's ours now."

When Tim wakes up, he panics a bit and tries to bolt but Bruce catches him and soothes him and confirms that the kid's parents don't give a freaking thought about him.

In the next few months, it's surprisingly easy for Bruce get custody. Jason and Dick are delighted to have a new little bro.

Tim takes a while to get used to suddenly having a good dad and two awesome big bros.

Tim doesn't remember how he got into the Batcave- all he remembers is conking out on some snowy rooftop (Bruce was horrified by this) and being vaguely aware of being scooped up and carried.

All Tim remembers of whoever had taken him was that they were really big, had a leather jacket, and mumbled to him the whole way until he went back to full sleep again. Past Tim only vaguely remembers the person's (lol it was Older Jason) voice.

Jason-from-another-timelime watches in satisfaction from the shadows.

His work is done.

Later he also saves himself from the Joker and somehow escapes detection.

Then he gets back to his timeline because Flash finally found him.

He yells at his timeline's Tim, reveals to the rest of the Bats how bad it really was for Tim, and well, you can guess how that ends lol.

[lyricalt]

sniperspy fic inspired by the comic ending ?

Thought I was done posting fic for the year, but I had a quick one in me. :)

rated g, obvious comic spoilers

+++

It is, actually, not Sniper’s first time at Scout’s rather large house in the middle of American suburbia. The poor fella’s racking up more divorces than Sniper can fit bullets in the old SMG these days, and every now and then Sniper will pop in to for a commiserating beer or the newest wedding invite. Either way, Scout’s always in good spirits, and it never hurts to check on the guy and the little ones every once in a while. 

Scout greets him with a rough hug and several thumps on the back before pulling him the rest of the way into the house. They attempt to catch up, but that never lasts too long before Scout is whisked back into parenting duties. His brisk footfalls to prevent the latest kid-related disaster are familiar. Sniper watches Scout disappear back into the kitchen, hollering about the stove, and he can hear other recognizable voices echoing through the hallway. 

Well, that’ll be where the party is then.

Because old habits never quite die, Sniper takes a quick glance into every open room he passes; number of exits, windows, obstacles, cover, bodies. One in particular catches his attention, sitting on the living room couch. He grins.

“Now there’s a face I haven’t seen in a while,” Sniper says, walking in. It’s a bit of a lie, a bit of the truth. 

Spy turns his head. He doesn’t seem surprised, probably already knew Sniper was there from the moment he arrived in the van. 

Sniper has never seen Spy look so much at ease, despite all the little Scout-eyed tykes crawling over him. There’s something different, less tension in the eyes despite the new crows feet at the corners, and Sniper’s seen Spy’s type of deadly calmness countless times in the middle of battle, unruffled and focused. This is different.

It takes a moment, but Sniper realizes he’s never seen Spy content. This might come close. 

“You look well,” Spy says when Sniper stops in front of him. It sounds like he means it, and Sniper is inclined to agree. 

“Been alright on my end,” Sniper says. He doesn’t mean to stare but he hasn’t lied; it has been a very long time since he’s seen that face. “I see you’ve passed on the mantle.”

It’s hard to ignore little Princess Tanya wearing the mask. She’s apparently taken her promotion to princess assassin to heart and tips Spy over in a rather decent headlock he’s sure Scout has taught her to do.

“And just in time,” Spy grunts, but gamely makes a show of dying very dramatically, to the wild cheers of all five children. 

Grinning, Sniper reaches over, putting two fingers to Spy’s wrist. The pulse is steady and strong, but Sniper declares him dead anyway. “Looks like y’got him, Miss Tanya.”

“Yes! Now lets bring him back!”

Many children start performing chest compressions on Spy. Sniper is more than happy to leave Spy under the attentive care of so many enthusiastic medics without interfering any more. He can actually hear Demoman from the other room, and Sniper is eager to see the rest of the team.

“We’ll catch up later,” Spy says, voice rattling with the pounding of several tiny fists against him. He opens one eye to look up at him.

Sniper grins. “Give us a shout if you need back up. You already know my fees.”

Spy shuts his eyes, back to playing dead. Out of sight from the children, his middle finger shoots up.

+++

Dinner’s a delightful riot. Sniper’s warm and comfortable after a couple of glasses of wine and a few more friendly kisses under a traveling sprig of mistletoe that keeps getting tossed around. Scout’s managed to wrangle half the kids to bed. The other half are beginning to show signs of sleepiness. It won’t be long before all the adults will follow suit, but for now they’ve all drifted into smaller groups to have quieter conversations. Even Soldier, as loud as he can get, seems to have learned the value of letting small children sleep through the night.

Sniper stands from his chair, stretching as he does. Joints crack. He glances at Spy, whose wine glass has long been empty.

Now’s a good time as any to catch up, he supposes.

“Smoko?” he asks and tips his head, gesturing outside.

Spy gives him a look, a flicker of some interest. “Yes.”

They go down the hallway. Sniper stops just before the front door to turn towards a portrait. “That her?”

Spy doesn’t need to know what he means. There’s a small smile when he says, “Yes.”

“Cute.”

Spy snorts, opening the front door. “I certainly thought so. Still do.”

They step outside. Spy doesn’t go out with his long coat, which means it’ll only be a quick smoke, and nothing else. The porch light is bright, the neighborhood quiet. When Sniper peers up at the sky, the stars are dim and faint, not like being in the secluded parts of the wilderness.

Spy holds out a cigarette for him. “Yours, if you’ve got the light.”

Sniper grins. “I don’t.”

Spy’s brow raises. “You don’t smoke anymore.”

“Oh, I’ll have a cig every now and then,” Sniper says, taking it. He puts the cigarette between his lips and notes the brand is different from Spy’s usual. Or, well, different from Spy’s usual RED rations. “Only really did it to steady the nerves back then, or if there was someone else to pilfer from.”

Spy pauses, digging through his pockets. 

“Hm,” he says, taking out his lighter. He clicks up a flame, close to Sniper’s cigarette. “Apologies for encouraging bad habits.”

Sniper takes Spy’s wrist anyway. He brings the lighter closer.

“Wasn’t a bad habit,” Sniper mumbles, angling his head. He inhales, the end of the cigarette glowing. When he exhales, he can see his warm breath swirl over Spy’s knuckles in the cold air.

The pulse in Spy’s wrist doesn’t jump. Sniper ought to declare the man dead.

“Such a shame you didn’t flirt like this years ago,” Spy says, eyes crinkling. More crows feet at the corners.

“Was on the job,” Sniper sighs. “Weren't too good at flirtin’ neither.”

Spy snaps the lighter close. Sniper lets go of his wrist. 

“Could you imagine if we did?” Spy chuckles, keeping his hand up. He deftly plucks the cigarette from Sniper’s mouth. Puts it in his own to take a puff.

Sniper glances up at the sky rather than watch Spy. Turns out he still needs the nicotine to steady the nerves after all. This is why he can’t quite kick the habit. “Yeah. I can.”

The cigarette gets put back between his lips. This time, Spy’s smoky exhale drifts across Sniper’s neck, picked up by the night chill. He can also blame the chill for Spy’s ruddy cheeks but instinct tells him that if he grabs Spy’s wrist again, curls two fingers over the pulse point, there might’ve been the smallest of jumps in that steady rhythm. Wishful thinking, but it’s Smissmas. 

They finish the rest of the cigarette together.