#babygirl² why are you death staring her back.

[jorjin]

Idk anything about Fleetwood Mac except for the fact I find the concept of two exes feuding and going "I love them but I hate them" all the time just so. It's just so. God.

[m00nchildwrites]

Forever, You and Me: Rafayel x MC/Reader Smut

This is a one shot, smut drabble inspired by @jinwoosbabyboo 's answer post describing how the LADS men would react to you storming of and not responding to theirs calls and texts after a bad fight. Her writing is flipping amazing. ISTF I devour everything she writes. 

I was intending to just repost her post with a little response of how I think Rafayel would cope with such an event, and it just... took off and swept me anyway, and well... apparently it's angsty feels and thirsty hours and I blame @jinwoosbabyboo completely for this because her writing always getting my imagination going! So responding to her with my extra thoughts about Rafayel became a one shot, smutty drabble spilled out.  

So here is her post that inspired the one-shot below, so you can read the Rafayel part that got this whole thing going and also, please go read her sections about Xavier, Zayne, and Sylus because you will be missing out if you don't. Seriously, go now.: https://www.tumblr.com/jinwoosbabyboo/763177878569549824/dont-run-off-like-that?source=share 

18+. MDNI! 

TW: angst, cursing, self-depreciation, depression, mention of death or wanting to die, ya boy gets dark and big big sad, hurt/comfort, they def kiss and make up, SMUT, what is foreplay? They just want to bone, couple's first time together, detailed sex depicted, fucking, use of the word fuck a lot, dirty talk, usage of "babygirl", possessive Rafayel (in bed), unprotected sex, mating press, squirting, overstimulation, cum, my own Lemurian bond headcanon, Rafayel has a filthy mouth and MC loves it, cum/breeding kink if you squint. 

*clears throat* 

Enjoy. 

~~~~~~ 

Forever, You and Me 

[ @jinwoosbabyboo prompt: 

You told the LADS Men to not piss you off and what did they do? Pissed you off. How I imagine they would react to you storming off in tears and you're not answering their calls or texts.] 

The moment you spun on your heel and fled his home Rafayel was after you. The angry and uncharacteristic yell of frustration you had given out before doing so, after he failed to back off during your disagreement, turned argument, turned first real fight made his stomach drop and curl in the worst way. Your voice played in his head as he ran out his door and down to the street in front of his house after you. 

Stop! Just... please stop a moment. I hate that we are yelling. This isn't us. This isn't you. This isn't me. Just- Give me a second to breathe for fuck's sake, Rafayel, please! 

His words rang in his head too.  

If you don't want to hear the sound of my voice anymore, if you don't want to be with me anymore, then why don't you just leave. You always end up leaving anyway. 

He never expected you to actually do it. But he had watched as your eyes widened in shock and hurt, and then narrowed. Then you were gone. 

He ran, flinging open the metal gate and stepping onto the sidewalk, eyes desperate, searching for your retreating figure. He had to find you. Apologize. He knew he could be intense sometimes, dramatic occasionally, and that he could push your buttons just to see if you'd leave him. Leave him like the you of your past life had done. Like you had always done. 

But he was a fool. 

That you wasn't this you. That you was dead and gone. And you, you were the same but so different. You were everything and he had gone and fucked it up. Again. 

His head whipped around frantic. Spirits of his ancestors, did you sprint!?!  The pit in his gut swelled and grew. He couldn't see you anywhere. He yanked out his phone dialing your number as he started jogging off down the sidewalk. You couldn't have gotten far. Right? 

The call went to voicemail. He stopped staring blankly at it. You didn't answer. Maybe... Maybe you couldn't get it in time, yeah. That was it. He breaks out into a jog again, and again rings your number. He would find you. Maybe you were at the bus stop? He pushed his legs faster as the voicemail picked up again. 

You weren't at the bus stop. It had just left. Spitting out a stream of curses that made a little old lady whack him with her bag, Rafayel dialed a different number. He pressed the phone to his ear, "Thomas, I need a car.... no, I'm not at home. I am headed to Linkon City. On foot. Thomas, please no more questions, just have the car find me! This is urgent!" 

When the car-Thomas- found him, he was halfway to Linkon, sweating, sticky, gross, and stressed. He sent out a stream of texts asking you where you had gone, why you weren't answering, that he was sorry, begging you to come back, to answer, to curse him, anything. But they all went unanswered. 

As he went to all your known haunts and favorite places, from your work to the grocery store near your place to your apartment where he ran into an unimpressed blonde Hunter partner of yours that looked perpetually in need of a nap and who refused to buzz him into the building, Rafayel's mental and emotional state continued to spiral. His emotions went from apologetic to concern to flat out fear for your safety. Which he had made clear to that blonde partner of yours... he very nearly throttled the ass. Why did he not see how urgent this was? His words had struck Rafayel and made his stomach turn sour. 

"If MC was in danger, I'd be the first to know, after all, I'm her partner." 

His world felt off kilter. Would the blonde be the first to know? Surely not. Surely, it would be him, Rafayel. Your boyfriend of the past few months. You were soulmates. You came together lifetime after lifetime. He always found you. Always could hunt you down. Always. 

Except now. Except this time. Where had you gone? 

If you don't want to hear the sound of my voice anymore, if you don't want to be with me anymore, then why don't you just leave. You always end up leaving anyway. 

You always end up leaving anyway. 

He visibly flinched. He was a fucking idiot. He turned his head to stare blindly out the window, avoiding Thomas' gaze in the rear view mirror. His assistant had given up trying to get answers from him. Instead, he watched in with worry all over his face.  

Rafayel was soaked. It had begun to rain. It was quicky becoming night. He had been calling, texting, and searching for you for hours. He had ran himself to the point of near exhaustion, and nearly gotten the cops called on him at her work when he kept asking Hunter's outside if they had seen you. How embarrassing. For you, not him. He couldn't give a damn as long as he found you, but you... you clearly didn’t want him to find you. 

You were gone. He had told you to leave if you didn't want him and you had gone. 

He felt numb as the car stopped at last in front of his gate. The car hesitated, Thomas no doubt watching him in concern as he drug his feet passed his gate. Rafayel didn't care. He had pushed you away. Lost you. And it was all his fault. And for what? 

The argument had been so stupid. He walked in, not bothering to shut the door. Clothes dripping, leaving pools on the floor as he walked through his home. He passed the dining room that still had your wine glasses and the open bottle and desserts out. He grabbed the open bottle as he moved deeper into the house.  

He kicked off his shoes, leaving a trail headed to his living room. The flowers he had bought you sat on a vase on the coffee table. He stared it down as he plopped, wet, onto his couch. How had such a good night turned so sour? Why did he have to push at your buttons sometimes? Was it just to see? Just to see if you'd leave him? 

You always end up leaving anyway. 

His stomach felt sick. He chugged from the open bottle. Why would he do that? You didn't deserve it. Was he that fucked up from his past that he had to take it out on you? Why couldn't he let go of what had happened in your lives before this one? You were not like him. You didn't remember everything. No wonder you left. 

He tsked, and not for the first time, wondered if your "curse" to not remember your past lives was really a curse at all. After all, if he couldn't remember, then he wouldn't treat you as though you were going to leave at any moment. Because you had never given him any indication that you planned to. 

The past few months of your relationship, that you two were "official", had been perfection. Sure, you had little spat and sometimes would snap at each other, but there had been so much love. He swallowed a lump in his throat. Love. 

He had not even gotten the chance to tell you. 

He had been waiting- waiting for the perfect moment. He was going to tell you tonight. It was why he had gone the extra step to make lunch that much more romantic. It was why a meat and cheese board and fresh fruit were waiting in his fridge for later that night. He hadn't planned on either of you leaving until morning, if then. It was the reason for the flowers before him, the flower petals in the no doubt cold tub upstairs, the petals spread across his bed. Tonight was going to be the night. The one where he told you that you were the love of his life, of all of his lives. He was going to explain what that meant to a Lemurian- how binding and forever that was. And should you accept, he had planned to ask you to- 

He winced, eyes squeezing shut as his chest flared in pain. In protest. His hand not holding the bottle, now empty, clutched at his chest. A hiss of pain. The pain passed. Rafeyel dropped the bottle onto the coffee table before his eyes landed on the vase. He knocked the flowers over, sending the vase off the other side of the coffee table, glass shattering and water spilling with flowers and petals across the floor. 

It didn't matter what he was going to ask you. You were gone. His eyes blurred, hot, as tears formed on his lashes. He pulled his knees up to his chest. His shoulders shook.  

You were gone. 

~~~~~ 

Your feet tripped as you hurried down the sidewalk, dodging puddles as you went. You did not mean for time to get away from you. When you ran out of Rafayel's earlier, you had only meant to get some fresh air for a short while as you calmed down. You both had ended up yelling earlier and it had felt so wrong. Wrong because it wasn't like either of you.  

Yes, you had had disagreements. Rafayel hated when you put yourself in unnecessary danger, though he respected you and your skills at work, even you had to admit that he wasn't wrong when he said you took risks. You didn't mean to. It never was your plan, but something went down and you just sprang into action. He had been right, you had partner's in the association for a reason. But it was the way he had said it today, like you were doing it on purpose just to spite him. As though you enjoyed stressing him and making him worry, it had just set you off. You had told him off, and things had spiraled. 

And for what? He wasn't even wrong. It just rankled your feathers today because of something some dumb Jock head at work had said about women Hunter's needing to be paired with a male Hunter since they were the weaker sex. The dude was written up on the spot; the idiot had said it in front of everyone including your very female boss- moron. But still, you hated being looked down on.  

And so, you had taken out that frustration on Rafayel. On your sweet, silly, bratty, but absolutely adoring Rafayel. You had seen how your words had hurt him. When you had said that you didn't need him or any man worrying or looking after you. You had seen the flinch as though you had slapped him as you flung his worry and concern back into his face as though it revolted you. 

You had hurt him. And then realized that you both were yelling, and it was all just too much. You felt like you couldn't breathe. It hadn't felt like you. Like him. So, when you asked for a moment to allow your mind to settle and clear so you could think rationally and he just kept on, you snapped. He offered you an out, and you took it the offer and walked out. 

You walked out knowing his fear of abandonment. You knew and still walked out without looking back. You walked and walked along the shore. Then it started to rain, and you had to find shelter. And to top it off, you hadn't realized your phone was dead until you were stuck miles down the beach, in the rain, hiding out under a pier, and realized you had to now walk all the way back. Why had you gone to the beach instead of your home? 

You sighed, spotting Rafayel's house in the distance at last. Of course. Of course, you knew why. Because the beach reminded you of your Lemurian, your Rafayel. Even when you were mad at him, you longed for him. Sought out his essence for comfort. Gods, you loved him so much. So much and you never said it out loud yet. You had to tell him. 

You picked up the pace and jogging up to his gate. Nearing his door, you saw it open, but thought nothing of it. Rafayel often left it open for you or from distraction as a bolt of inspiration hit him. The house looked dark from the entryway. You called out his name as you toed off your sandy shoes and socks. 

You gasped as you stepped and nearly slipped in a large, cold puddle. A trail of puddles large and smaller led inside. You tucked a damp strand of hair behind your ear, and cautiously made your way inside. 

"Rafayel? Are you home?" "Rafayel?" "Ugh, why is it so dark in here? Stupid dead phone. I need a light." 

You stumbled into the dining room and followed the wall to the kitchen. You flicked a switch and squinted at the sudden change in brightness. His whole studio was empty and dark. The light from the kitchen spilling out into his painting area across the large room and into the living room area. 

Your eyes squinted, focusing. There was a lump on the couch. "Rafayel?" You near him and see the wine bottle on the coffee table nearby and broken glass and flowers scattered around. You step carefully to not get a shard of glass in your foot as you move around the room to him. 

"Rafayel? I'm sorry it's late. I didn't mean to be gone for so long, but I went further than I meant to and then my phone died..." You trailed off as he came fully into view. He sat on his couch, cheeks wet with tears, clutching his chest. 

You understood all at once why he grabbed that spot, and your heart lurches and drops. You kneeled next to him carefully, "Rafayel?" 

When you call out to him, he let out a choked sob of a tortured laugh.  

You lean, moving to place your face into his line of sight. He sits frozen, staring daze out of open windows. "Rafe?" 

His voice sounded hollow, "Go away." You heart dropped until his voice continues, "You are a specter. MC is gone. She left. Left me." His voice cracked, more tears spill over his lash line to trail down porcelain cheeks. His voice a near whisper, "I've lost you. I love you. I love you more than my homeland, my people. More than my very life. I have loved you through countless lifetimes and will through countless more." He clenched his eyes as he clenched his chest, "I love you enough to let you go if that's what you wish. I'd give it all for you. My last breath. So, please, leave. Don't haunt my mind like you've haunted my heart these last 800 years. You're gone. At last, you've chosen and it isn't me. Leave me to my heartbreak in peace. Leave me to fade into seafoam at last." 

A sob hiccupped past your lips. How could you have hurt him so? This beautiful man with such a beautiful heart and soul. You reached out to brush your fingers across his cheeks, fingers combing into lavender curls as you cup his cheeks, begging, imploring him to see you.  

His eyes shut, agony on his face. 

"I am here, Rafayel. I'm real." 

A choked sob fell from his lips. 

"Look at me." 

A shake of his head. If he does, you'll disappear. Slip through his fingers like mist. He wants to stay in his illusion just a while longer. Hear your voice just a while longer before he has to spend eternity without you, or at least, eternity until he fades away back into sea foam like so many of his people before. 

"Rafayel, my love, please look at me." 

Violet eyes opened, hesitant and sorrowful. 

You smiled, soft, full of love, thumbs wiping stray tears. "I am here. I'm sorry I got so mad earlier. It wasn't even about you; It was a long shitty day, and that's no excuse. You didn't deserve for me to react like that to what you were saying. And I'm sorry I ran. I hated that I was so upset and I couldn’t calm down, so I just need to step away, but- I hurt you. I hurt you so badly, and I never ever meant to. That's the last thing I want because I-" Your voice cracked, a lump of emotion in your throat. Your eyes fell, ashamed. "I just- gods, Rafayel, I love you so much it makes me feel crazy sometimes. I- I'm sorry this is not how I imagined telling you this." You started to pull away. 

Large, long fingered hands gripped your shoulders. "Say it again." 

You blinked, confused by the urgency in his voice as he searched your face. 

"Please. Please say it again or I will be convinced I imagined it." 

You studied his eyes. Firmly in his grip, your brows furrowed until it clicked. Your tension left you. Your hands rose once more to cup his face. A soft smile spread across yours as his cheeks pinken under your touch. "I love you, Rafayel. With all my hea-" 

You were jerked forward into his chest. His lips crashed onto yours. His hands were desperate as they clung to your back, crushing you closer, impossibly closer, as though he needed your very beings to blur into one. His tongue swiped at your lips, hot and wet, begging entry. Demanding it. 

You gasped from the intensity of his kiss. His passion poured forth like an unending wall of water bursting from a dam. His tongue danced along yours, caressing, tasting. Hungry and needy. Warm velvet and tasting of the wine you both had been drinking before your argument hours before. 

Your hands found his shoulders, trying to ground yourself or be swept away. You accidentally slipped out a sound. A needy sound of passion. His answering moan as he angled his head to kiss you deeper made a pleasant shiver run down your spine to pool between your legs. 

In a flash, his hands gripped your thighs, tugging you into his lap as he stood. 

You broke the kiss with a gasp, hands scrambling to hold on. Arms wrapping around his neck as his head ducked, his lips covering your neck in messy, hot, open mouthed kisses. 

"Wh-what? Where are you taking me?" 

His voice was a husky grumble from somewhere deep in his chest, as he licked and nipped at your throat. "I'm taking you to bed, my Heart." 

Next thing you knew, your back was falling onto cream silken sheets.  

He stood between your parted knees hanging over the edge of the bed. His violet eyes raked over your face hungrily. His lips were parted, chest rising and falling as he panted for breath. He didn't move, tongue peaking out to wet his lips. He was breathtaking. He was passion personified, hair mussed from your fingers, lips damp and red swollen from your kisses.  

His voice and the look in his eyes made your insides clench as he reached out, hand on your knee, thumb brushing the inside just so, "If you want me to stop... if you dont want this or..." his thumb stopped, he face flinched, eye closing briefly as though from pain, before opening to peer into your eyes. "If you are unsure of this, of us, of me, tell me now, because once we do this, once we... you will be mine, and I will be yours. It can't be undone. For Lemurians, this is for life, for all time. A soul bond. It's more than any mortal human tradition. More than marriage. It's unbreakable, unending, forever you'd be mine and I'd be yours. If you are unsure-" 

You sat up, going onto your knees atop the bed before him. Your palms rested on his shoulders, "Rafayel..." your hands slid down to his chest. "I- " Your hand stopped at the place on his chest were your mark laid, though the red fish wasn't visible now. Your eyes flicked to his, "I want this." Your hands were on the move again smoothing lower down his chest. "I want this bond. I-" Your hands found the bottom of his shirt, fingertips dancing along the hem before slipping under.  

He gasped, stomach muscles clenching beneath your touch as your hands found his taunt skin beneath.  

"I want forever. I want you." Your hands trailed up the plains of his chest, bringing his shirt with you. Until at last, you griped it in your hands, eyes meeting his in askance.  

His lashes fluttered, eyes falling half-mast. He was breathtaking. His arms rose, allowing you to lift the shirt from his body before flinging the offending material away. 

Your hands fell back to his shoulders, one sliding to cup his neck as you rose to meet him, chest pressing to his. His gaze turned molten, lust heavy and full of love as he looked over your face. His hands came to rest, just so at your waist, still hesitant but hopeful.  

Resolved, you pushed away your nerves, pulling his head down. Breath mingling with his, you gave him what he wanted. What he needed, "I love you. I chose you, Rafayel. Forever and always. Forever, you and me." 

His lips crashed into yours like waves upon a storm wall. He laid you down in a sea of silk and white rose petals.  

You snatched one, lifting it between you with a raise eyebrow.  

He flushed beautifully, "I had plans for us tonight." 

You dropped the petal, fingers weaving through his silken waves. "Show me." 

Clothes flew to land forgotten on the floor. Breaths panted; needy sounds filled the air, carried away through the open balcony windows and out to the sea. His hands and lips mapped you like you were a precious treasure. His lips and tongue worshipped you, swiping the salt from your skin. His breath was hot in your ear as he- at last- slotted his hips between your parted thighs.  

"My Heart, my Queen, my love," fell from his lips like a mantra.  

You felt him there, this mushroomed tip parting your lower lips, dragging the pooled wetness and spreading it. You gasped, nails digging into his shoulders. 

He groaned, head falling to nuzzle your neck. Still, he froze, going no further. He panted, asking, "Are you sure?" 

You cupped his face, dragging his eyes up to yours, "Rafayel, I have never been more sure of anything in my life. Take me. I am yours." You ran your fingers along his cheek, repeating his words from before, "A soul bond. unbreakable, unending, forever. This is what I chose. It's you, Rafayel. It's always been you." You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, causing his hips to drop. You gasped. His tip slipped into your molten heat just so. 

His head fell back, long pale neck exposed. He bit his lip. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. When his gaze fell back to you, his eyes were dark, like the ocean in a storm.  

Your walls clenched.  

His eyes squeezed shut, a moan falling from his lips, a curse followed. His gaze, heavy and passionate, were back on yours, his arms shaking, "So be it. My Heart, my Queen, my love," his mouth would curl slightly into a playful smirk, "my bride." His hips snapped forward, his full hard length pushing into your gummy walls to full hilt, his pelvis slapping hard into your fleshy cheeks. You could feel him, his tip kissing your cervix. A moan fell from your lips; a hiss of pleasure from his. He stilled buried fully inside you, muscles trembling with the strain. His jaw clenched as he fought for control, "Fuck, love, you feel so good." 

Your hands scrambled for purchase on his shoulders, as he rocked his hips dragging almost all the way out only to snap his hips back, slamming back in. Your nail dug into his back. A babble of praise fell from your lips, "So good. So good, Rafayel. So full." 

He groaned head dropping to your collarbone, "Fuck, love, I can feel you sucking me in." He hissed, "so tight. Like you were made just for me, yeah?" His hips pulled back, dragging his length along your walls until just the tip remained. He leaned up, brushing your hair from your face to cradle your head in one hand, the other braced him on the bed near your head. "Look at me. I want to watch you as I make you mine." 

When your eyes fund his, his face softened a moment. His eyes sweeping over your face in awe before meeting and holding your gaze, he whispered a breathy, "I love you." His eyes darkened with heat again, and he snapped his hips to crash back into yours. He swallowed your answering moan with a bruising kiss, drinking you in, as his hip set a brutal rhythm.  

You clung to him, hips eagerly tilting and undulating to meet his as he pounded you into the sheets. The headboard slammed repeatedly into the wall. You shifted up slightly each powerful thrust. His hands grabbed yours bringing them to wrap around his shoulders, "Brace yourself against me, my love. Fuck! I'm going to ruin you. Ruin you for all others! MC, you are perfect. And you are mine." He melded his lips to yours, tongue moving along yours gently and loving. A sharp contrast to how he was fucking you into his bed. His thrusts were hard and deep, rolling into you like waves. The sound of slapping skin filled the air.  

You gasped, moaned, pleaded as he made your head spin with pleasure, "Yes! Yes, Rafayel! I am yours! Make me yours!" 

The sound that rumbled from his chest was a near growl as he leaned up to grip the headboard with one hand for leverage, his hips doubled in speed. His abs rolled as he kept one hand braced above your shoulder, locking you in place as he repeatedly slammed his cock as deep into as he could get. 

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you clung to his arms. Your legs went limp around his waist as pleasure boiled inside you, hot and heavy. Your head thrashed from side to side from the intensity of the waves of sharp pleasure swelling inside you. Your walls began fluttering, clenching, wrapping at his hard length as he pummeled your insides. His tip kissed your cervix with each thrust, giving a burst of the slightest pain-pleasure. You could feel the wetness of you gushing out passed his shaft as it pounded in and out of your tight channel, every ridge of him dragging along your walls in the best way. You were not going to last long. No one, not even yourself had ever gotten you this wet and close to orgasm as Rafayel was doing. It was as though he knew exactly how to make your body sing for him. 

He shifted. The angle changed and you gasped, clinging, clawing, nails digging as his tip bullied into your g-spot with every snap of his hips.  

"Fu-fuck baby!" You wailed, "God's, Rafayel, right there, baby. Please don't stop. Don't stop!" 

His response was a snarl in your ear as his hips snapped into that spot in double time. "Never. I'll never stop. Never stop making love to you, my love. My bride." He kissed you deeply as your walls started spasming. Your climax was close. A hand of his dropped from your neck to slip between you to where you are joined. His fingertips finding the pearl above where he slides into you. The pad of his finger swirling, circling and pressing your clit just right. 

You moaned, head thrown back, "Yess!" 

He covered your neck in love marks, branding you as his. His lips moved to your ear, nipping at the skin right below it, "Are you gonna come for me, my love? Are you gonna come all over my cock like a good girl. Be good bride, hm, come for me," his voice was pure sin in your ear. 

You could only whimper and cling to him, desperate.  

"Answer me. Tell me who you belong to. Say it. I want the people down the beach to hear you scream it. To hear whose cock makes you feel this good. Say it. Say who you belong to." 

You sputtered and gasped out sobs, in capable of words as you race towards your end. 

He took your hips in his hands. He leaned back on his knees. He rose your hips off the bed. His hips slamming into you, hard and fast- almost inhumanly so. The plop, plop, plop of his sack as it slaps against the sticky mess of your cheeks filled the room. He groaned, "Fuck, baby. You feel so good for me. I fucking love you, MC. Fuck, I love you." 

The coil within you snapped and pulses of white hot heat sent tremors, shockwave through your body as your core clamped down on his shaft. Your head fell back as you screamed out his name in the height of your passion, in reverence, "Rafayel!" You sobbed. Actual tears escaped as the white hot waves of orgasm mixed with love for him kept coming.  

His hips never stopped slamming his hard cock into you, bruising your g-spot and cervix. It was heaven. It was bliss. It was so much. It was almost too much. You tensed nearly about to say stop when a sensation you had never felt before hit you like a brick. Your core tightened, abs clenching, your very womb felt like it clenched, your walls clamped tight down around him, almost stopping his movement completely. Then the spasms, ripples of pleasure pulsed from your womb down your walls, massaging, milking, clenching his shaft inside you. You vaguely hear him hiss and a debauched, "Fuck," escape his lips. And  then you feel a gush of warm liquid splash out of you and all over his dick and pelvis. 

Rafayel's violet gaze widened, his grip tightening almost painfully into the fleshy meat of your hips as he held you against him. His head fell back and he moaned, fully wrecked. "Fuck! Babygirl, you just squirted for me." 

Your core clenched at his words even as high sensitivity began to creep in, but he felt so good. So good and hard inside you. You could tell he wasn't too far off. Just the thought of it turned you back on. You desperately wanted to see him lose himself to orgasm. And he was so fucking beautiful as he began rolling his hips into yours again. 

You must've said that last part out loud, because he looked back down at you, lip caught between his teeth before he released it, plump and full. You wanted to bite it. A smirk was on his face, "Yeah? Is that so, babygirl?" His eyes darkened as his hips picked up speed, rolling more into you, faster as he spoke, "You know what's beautiful? You. You splayed out on my bed, looking fucked out, covered in your cum, face flushed as I. Fuck. You." He punctuated his words with a hard thrust, fingers digging into your hips deliciously. 

You gasped, walls clenching again as he steadily fucked you into another crest. His face fell into a grimace, as your walls, overstimulated into another quickly growing orgasm, clenched and released and clenched his shaft as he began to thrust into you with wild abandon, "Fuck, babygirl, I can feel you clenching me, yeah? You love the feel of this dick pounding you, don't you? So. Fucking. Beautiful. And. All. Mine." 

His mouth was filthy. Filthy and hot. You had never heard Rafayel speak in such a way. Rafayel who was often bashful and blushing when your flirting. Rafayel who tended to be a pouty needy boy that made your heart melt. This Rafayel was just as needy. But in a way you had never seen him before, as he panted your name from his lips like a mantra. His gorgeous head tossed back, neck exposed, abs clenching and rolling his hips as he slammed into you, face flushed and skin covered in a sheen of sweat. He was breathtaking. He was yours. You wanted him to come, and come for you now. 

Your hands scrambled to the headboard above you, bracing against it in determination. You started to roll your hips into his, meeting each powerful thrust with as much force as he was giving you. You were gonna come again but this time, this time, you were taking him with you. 

He gasped, fingers digging into your fleshy hips. His eyes snapped down to you, seeing the heat in your eyes as they raked over his body, your lip caught between your teeth. He groaned at the sight and at the feel of your hips moving in rhythm with his. "F-fuck, my love, I'm gonna come. Where do you- where should I-?" His voice is completely fucked out. Almost drunk. 

You tugged his arm and he fell back over you, compliant to your every whim, your knees swept up to rest over his arms as he braced himself with them framing your waist. Your legs were trapped pressed up and apart, unable to move as freely, to roll as deeply with your knees hooked over his forearms like this. But oh. You saw stars and he moaned in your ear. At this angle, with you opened wide, it felt like he went deeper. You both gasped out moans. Your lips brushed his ear as you told him your deepest want right then, "Inside. I want you inside me. Please, Rafayel. I want to feel all of you. Fill me up." 

He groaned, a pained sound before driving into you in earnest, "I am gonna come. I cant- I can't hold on much more." 

Your walls fluttered at the needy sound of his voice. Your Rafayel. Your beautiful Rafayel. He was so like the ocean, so many faucets to his personality. He could be calm loving one moment then demanding and passionate and then needy the next. You loved him. You loved all of him and he was all yours. 

"I'm coming too, baby. Let go" you implored him, "I want it. I am yours and you are mine. Forever. I want all of you. Give it to me." 

With a few more slams of his cock into your depths, you felt the moment he lost control of it. His forehead pressed to yours, noses brushing, as he let out a long moan of pleasure mixed with your name. His shaft pulsed as rope after rope of hot cum filled your womb. His blissed out face, the grind of his pelvis into your clit, the twitching of his cock as he came inside, and the warmth that flooded your inner most parts triggered your orgasm. 

"F-fuck!" He hissed out, blissfully as your walls milked him further. His thrust slowed until it was just a slow drag. His breath, panted by your ear. He peppered your neck and shoulder with kisses, before pulling back to press his lips lovingly against yours. When he pulled away, you noticed his eyes were nearly glowing blue as the Mediterranean sea, a spackling of blue iridescent scales freckled down his throat to his chest.  

Your fingertips followed the trail as his hips finally rested, fully seat against yours, spent, but refusing to leave your warmth. You could feel the hot mix of both of your fluids spilling out around where his now soft member still rested within your walls. Your eyes flicked up to his, watching you full of love. Your gut twisted in guilt, remembering what got you here. "I am sorry I ran out. I was so angry. I so angry, and it hurt to be so angry at you. I felt overwhelmed. I just... I needed space. To breathe. To calm down so I could think." 

He tutted, fingers combing some of your messy hair from your face. "Hush now, my bride. It is okay now. You came back to me. We are together. We are one now. That is all that matters." His eyes trailed your face before a sheepish look fell over his expression, "Besides, it was my fault you got overwhelmed. I kept pushing and pushing even when you said you needed to think. I was terrified that I was losing you so I couldn't bring myself to give you a moment." His eyes met yours, "I am sorry." 

You hummed, "Still I shouldn't have ran from you. I know about our pasts and I know that me leaving is something you fear. It was cruel of me," your heart lunched at the flicker of pain in his gaze. 

"Very well, though, I must admit I feel guilty for making you feel like what happened in those past lives is your responsibility. They both were and were not you. That's not your burden to carry." 

It was your turn to tsk, "I love you. Your burdens are my burdens. It's you and me, forever, Rafayel. You don't have to carry everything alone. Not anymore. Never again." 

His eyes went soft, as he dipped his head to press a kiss to your lips, "Whatever you say, my bride." 

You nuzzled into his palm cupping your cheek, "I do say. How about we both agree we are both idiots in love and leave it at that?" 

His chuckling at that shook you slightly. As your bodies were still pressed together, it shifted his shaft slightly inside of you. You realized that it was not all that soft anymore, and that he never left your heat. Your breath caught in your throat. Your walls fluttered around him. 

He hissed, head snapping up to meet your gaze. His eyes mischievous, "You want more of your Fishy husband, hm?" His hips gently pulsed, in and out of your heat slowly, testing the waters, a smirk stretching his mouth as you gasped from pleasure. 

Your eyes widen at his words. He had been calling you his bride. And now calling himself your husband. 

Seeing your look, he stilled and became worried, brows furrowing slightly. A blush spread across his cheeks and down his chest as his face becomes more pouty than the heat it held before, "I did say that to Lemurians this was essentially more binding than any silly human marriage." 

"You didn't say it quite like that!" You reeled dazed, your mind racing. 

His face crumpled before he smoothed his expression to one of more indifference. He plucked a shoulder in a shrug and rolled off of you, making you hiss as he slid out of you for the first time since you joined. 

He flopped onto his back a short distance away, "I apologize. I guess I should've been more clear. It's okay though. You won't feel the effects. We can pretend we didn't-" he gasped as you appeared over him and on him, having thrown your leg over his hip. You pressed him to the bed with a hand to his chest, your legs caging his hips between your thighs. "Nnngh," he groaned as you lowered your hips to sit over his pelvis, his once again harden length pressed between your nether lips, soaked in both of your juices from before. He had to fight not to roll his hips up into you, but settled for gripping your hips firmly. 

You sighed, hands moving, fingers dancing across the pale skin of his chest, from freckle to scale. "I never said I didn't want it." 

He stilled, eyes studying you intently. Holding his breath even. 

"I do want it. Want you. I told you, Rafayel, it's you and me. Forever." 

His grip lightened. His thumbs brushed tenderly across your skin. 

Your eyes sought out his, warm and tender. "So, husband," you grinned as his breath caught in his throat. "How do Lemurians enjoy their honeymoon?" You swiveled your hips to drag your wet heat along his now very hard again shaft. 

He gripped your hips, smirk nearly feral, "Let me show you, my Bride." 

[kuroneko1815]

The maze scene but make it silly and with innuendos

Because I always make fun of Callisto being the one to instigate the silly, I want Penelope to do it this time. This came about after re-reading that scene when they first meet and I thought… what could she say differently that was just so silly. With help from @eloise175, also… we really shouldn’t be left alone together.

Callisto holding a sword to Penelope’s throat looking menacing and mocking: Why do you love me? Go on, tell me why you fell in love with me?

Penelope: Because you’re shiny!

Callisto freezes in shock: Shiny? (He’s been called many things, most of them weren’t good but never shiny!)

Penelope thinking back to her reputation: I like shiny things and your hair looks like spun gold and your eyes look like rubies.

Callisto: ??? (Just stares at her, sword steady and level as he tries to process what happened.)

Penelope internally: Oh thank god, I can escape now. (Tries to back away subtly but is foiled.)

Callisto: What else?

Penelope thinks back to all the stereotypical western teenagers and in Korea from her world and time, all those things she studied to fit in with her new classmates at university: You’re hot.

Callisto: I’m what?

Penelope: You have a handsome face and probably a fine body under those clothes from all the training you do. It makes me drool just thinking about it and I want jump you. (Penelope in her mind: maybe I should just die, it would be better if he killed me now.)

Callisto: … (Callisto.exe has crashed; please reboot)

Callisto tries to save face: It seems more like you’re in lust with me, rather than in love.

Penelope: Is there a difference right now? I haven’t talked to you, and I’ve only seen you in passing. Love and lust are the same right now.

Penelope: Also, your voice is fine and smooth like butter.

Callisto: I don’t understand?

Penelope: It means I like your voice, it’s nice and seductive. (Penelope eyes possible exists and just keeps saying things without thinking them through.)

Penelope: You’re such a babygirl

Callisto: Did you just call me a babygirl? (Now he does feel some indignation)

Penelope: Yes I did, you know, you’re so good looking I just wanna take care of you. You’re so scrunkly.

Callisto: What does that even mean? I think you’re just making up words.

Penelope: Scrunkly, an animal or creature that’s weird or unorthodox but still so cute.

Callisto: Did you just… just call me an animal?

Penelope: Well, if you’re an animal, I think mating season has come. (Penelope is dead, very dead. She can feel her soul leaving her body with each word she says and yet she can’t stop. Still, she’s resorted to dropping innuendos in hopes that he’d be so weirded out that he’d walk away without killing her.)

Callisto is shook. He knows the adopted daughter of Eckhart was crazy but not this crazy or wanton… and yet… it was appealing and exciting.

Penelope gestures to his pants: Well, I don’t much care for the sword at my neck, but you can definitely pierce me with the one down there any time. Think of me like something to conquer. (Abort, abort, abort. She thinks desperately. Shut up.)

Despite her wishes, her mouth keeps moving, and not towards rationality, it just prolongs her torture. Death by beheading wasn’t so bad, at least she’d stop talking.

Penelope: If someone asked me what I wanted for dinner, it’s you. I’m so hungry, I want a taste.

Callisto eyes her in shock. These were not words that should be coming out of a Lady’s mouth, he didn’t think he’d ever heard phrases come out of anyone’s mouth before. It was bawdy without actually being too vulgar. He wants to be offended, he really does, but…

Penelope: Please? I’m thirsty, can I have a sip? Just a sip, please? I promise I don’t bite… much. (Penelope internally: Can I turn on that damned game system now? Please?)

Penelope: If we got stuck in a closet, one of us would be walking out pregnant, and it wouldn’t be me.

Eventually, Callisto lets her go, too surprised and shook to actually process everything, especially the last part because that wasn’t possible at all, unless she was a powerful mage. And Penelope leaves no worse for wear, except her dignity, that died a traitor’s death.

-

-

BONUS: The Cave Scene: Or Callisto gives his rebuttals because you can damn well know that he’s not letting this go and it’ll live rent free in his mind. And she’s avoided him when he tried to press her for more coherent answers, had even neglected to reply to him.

Penelope waking up in the cave: GAHH!!! Why are you naked? (Covers her eyes)

Callisto: Why are you covering you’re eyes? You wanted to see what was under my clothes anyway, and I hope it doesn’t disappoint. You certainly didn't.

Penelope: You… you shameless pervert.

Callisto: Oh? I'm the pervert now? What happened to the audacious woman who kept saying such filthy things to me to seduce me?

Penelope stares at him with a look of disbelief.

Callisto: Oh? How could you be so cold to me? Aren’t I scrunkly? Aren’t I your babygirl?

Penelope: … I'm going back to sleep.

Penelope can't actually sleep and keeps having flashbacks to it, Callisto hugs her, and tells her the story. And the conversation proceeds the same. Except instead of asking her what she liked about him…

Callisto: So, is your assessment correct, Princess?

Penelope: What?

Callisto: Is my body as 'fine' as you thought? Am I really that hot?

Penelope without thinking: Yes (Realizes what she said and blushes and buries her face into his chest and then almost dies of embarrassment when she realizes what she just did)

Callisto: It certainly seems like it based on how you're reacting.

Penelope: …

Callisto: My sword is ready for the piercing and the conquests.

Penelope bites her lips unable to say anything because he’s responding to everything she’s saying. She realized he’s pulled the ultimate reverse uno on her, and weeks after the fact too.

Callisto: Are you hungry? We can have a small snack if you want. But why stop at a sip and a taste? Let’s make this into a full meal!

Penelope: …

Callisto: Perhaps my voice alone can get you ready, we’d need to mop up after we’ve spilled our drinks.

Penelope admits to herself that he does have an amazing voice. But she’s still refusing the temptation. She wants to live thank you very much.

Callisto: We’re both still overdressed it seems. We really need to read the invitations carefully. This cave has a zero clothing policy.

Penelope tries to shut him up, when he stops her from slapping him, she kisses him which was the wrong move, or maybe it was the right one? Because it eventually devolved.

Callisto when they finally stopped: Respectfully, Emperor Claudius himself couldn’t pull me out of you. (Callisto thinks of his famous ancestor, an accomplished general, who had a story about a sword in a stone who won the throne over his half brother.)

In the aftermath, Penelope would wake up in a tangle of limbs, naked, and very well ‘conquered’ by the Crown Prince. She also gets to live, survives the game and all. And… exactly nine months after that night, a little dragon like girl was born to them. They named her Judith.

But Callisto, the new Emperor had one last thing to say to his wife as they hold their new born later not even minutes after she’s handed to them: Well, it wasn’t exactly locked in a closet, but I wasn’t the one who walked out of there pregnant.

Penelope smiles sweetly at him, motions for him to come closer so she can kiss him. He leans forward eagerly, closes his eyes. Penelope taking advantage of it, shifts Judith in one hand and slaps him hard.

[star-girl69]

My Heart Never Knows

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: sorry for no chapter yesterday!! y’all probably aren’t gonna like this one but… enjoy anyways!!

warnings: blood, death, violence, mentions of injury, swearing, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Twenty Four - My Heart Never Knows

—-

“Come, Tuk,” you urge, lunging from your place on the floor to grab her as she tries to zoom pass. She laughs as you tug her close, press a kiss to her cheek.

“I don’t wanna go,” she moans, sagging into your hold. Neytiri laughs from next to you, helping Neteyam with the clasp of his neck piece.

“We have to go,” Neytiri says, slowly, carefully.

“Or what?”

“Or else an akula will grow legs and come and eat you!” Lo’ak shouts, baring his teeth from across the room.

“Ha, ha, Lo’ak,” Tuk sticks her tongue out, settling onto your lap. “Why do I have to wear this top? It’s itchy!”

“But you look so cute in it,” you say, helping her out the top on. “Besides, your grandmother made it for you. Be respectful.”

“How are my girls doing?” Jake asks, sitting between you and Neytiri with a groan, arm around each of you.

“Tired,” Neytiri starts.

“Exhausted,” you muse.

“Annoyed.”

“Tired.”

“Okay, thank you,” Jake chuckles before the two of you can continue. You look past Jake and give Neytiri a knowing look, and she only smiles, turning back to tell Neteyam how handsome he looks. “And how about my littlest girl?”

“Itchy,” Tuk moans, curling into a ball atop you, pressing her face into your neck. Jake looks horribly confused, and a little scared, but you manage to bite back your laugh.

“Okay… and how about you, huh, babygirl?”

Everyone’s attention turns to Kiri, who sits by herself, across from the rest of you. Knees tucked up to her chest, staring off into the distance.

She startles, “fine, Dad.”

Jake nods, eyeing her, but it’s been a few days since her seizure- everyone has just been trying to let her heal on her own.

“Kiri,” you sigh, sick of her self-loathing, the waves she has been swept under. Jake grabs Tuk from your lap, comforting her about her itchy clothes, while Kiri sighs and shuffles over to you.

She doesn’t look at you as she sits beside you, knees touching, and you place your hand on her arm.

She turns to you, but doesn’t meet your eyes. Your heart sinks, but you simply sigh and remove your hand, moving to one of the bracelets clasped around your wrist.

“This,” you murmur, watching as her eyes travel, “is a bracelet I made myself. When I was much younger, I almost drowned during a storm. My parents and Ronal refused to let me go into the water for weeks and weeks, and I felt like a fish on the sand. I collected seashells, made this for myself. It helped me get through my grounding until I could swim again.”

You hold it out to her, nudging her hand with your own. She looks up at you, eyes wide.

“I want this to help you, Kiri. One day, I’m sure you’ll be able to plug into the spirit tree. Someone will find a way, baby, you’ll find a way.”

She looks between you and the bracelet, shaking her head.

“I- I can’t-”

“Kiri,” you smile, and she slowly takes the bracelet from you. She studies it for a second, eyes tracing along the shells, until she slips it onto her wrist.

“Thank you,” she whispers, after a small silence. The rest of the room fades, until it is just you two, just mother and daughter. “Thank you, Mom.”

—-

“What, you think I care about some kid? He’s not mine. We not even the same species.”

“Please! Please, don’t hurt her! Please, let her go.”

You breathe in once, breathe out once. You try to test your eyes away from Neytiri- but it’s not Neytiri. You look at her hand, at her knife with that curved handle you could recognize anywhere. You’ve seen it snug on her hip, tight in her hand. You’ve seen it kill and cut fruit.

But you have never seen it at the neck of a young boy. Of a boy. A child.

“Don’t!” Tuk yells, letting go of your leg, and you mean to reach out and stop her- but you didn’t know your Neytiri was capable of this. Killing humans who want to kill you is one thing. But, a child?

“Neytiri,” you breathe, but she doesn’t tear her eyes away from Quaritch, doesn’t move her knife. If you squint, you think there is blood beading on his neck. Your stomach twists, and ache everywhere, and you have to close your eyes and blink it away.

Jake holds Tuk back, breathing heavily, and your feet feel like they have walked away from you, like you are floating on nothing.

“Listen to me! Listen to me,” Spider pleads again, “don’t hurt her. Please, don’t hurt her.”

“Mom…” Kiri starts, trying her best to look out of the corner of her eyes, make her mother look at her, make her see reason. “Please don’t kill him.”

Quaritch pulls at her braid and she winces, but holds strong.

It is Neytiri’s voice that fills the silence next. If you imagine hard enough, if you really try, you can pretend this is an early morning, the sun just risen, just the three of you barely awake in your hammock. Hands wandering and words teasing, but it is not that.

The sun has set, and the three of you are wide awake, what seems like miles away from each other, hands sure and words carved to kill.

“Blood… for blood.”

She whispers it, so low you can barely even hear it, before she tilts her head to the side, eyes wide, digging the blade just a little deeper. Blood flows stronger now, a wild waterfall, pouring from his neck like something pretty.

Your eyes trail to Quaritch, and you see his jaw clench, the fear in his eyes. He might… you realize, he might let her go to save the boy.

But, there’s a glimpse of hesitation in his eyes. And maybe Neytiri saw it too, and maybe Neytiri was just blinded with love for her daughter. So, she brought the knife down, quick and fast, only enough to draw a wisp of blood.

“I cut…” Neytiri whispers, the next words on the tip of her tongue, tangible, in the air. You know what she will say. Quaritch knows what she will say.

Silence, for a few moments, before Spider groans and his quick gasps take their place. They burrow into your heart, this entire memory, into your brain.

Your side throbs and your head does too, everything hurts, everything feels like a million needles being dug into your skin. You let out a quiet breath, take a step closer, placing your hand on Tuk’s shoulder. She leans back into you, practically shaking, while Jake reaches behind himself to grab your hand.

He squeezes when he grabs you, almost like a silent message, but you can’t decide what it says.

I love you? I know you? I See you? Maybe something simple- stay behind me, I’ll protect you? It’ll be over soon?

But you think it says all that and more, you think it says everything.

Neytiri inhales, quick, that glint in her eyes fading and she raises her knife with her bottom lip curled, screaming as the knife begins to move through the air-

“No!” he shouts. “No, no.” He raises his knife into the air, waiting for Neytiri’s move.

When she doesn’t give up- he hisses, eyes wide, letting go of Kiri’s braid and kicking the back of her knee.

“Kiri!” your voice is rough from not using it, rough with unsung tears and blood on your tongue.

“Kiri,” Tuk breathes, “Kiri, Kiri, Kiri,”

You help her up, breathing heavily as you take her face in your hands, but she isn’t looking at you.

“Spider!” she gasps, pushing away from you and towards him, and you see him on the floor from when Neytiri must have let go. Tuk follows, and you stay close, Jake standing between your family and Quaritch like a sword, like a shield.

“Get them out of here,” he orders, knife still drawn, knees still bent.

But you cannot look away from Quaritch, from the realization in his eyes. Your family will get away- and Spider will come with. He will lose everything this night, so his next actions will be hasty, loose.

But for now, he doesn’t move.

“I owe you a death,” Quaritch says, pointing at Neytiri, and she only hisses at him.

“Mama, Mama,” someone says, and it takes you a second to realize it’s your daughter, pulling you and Neytiri each with a hand ok your wrists.

You snap out of your trance, breathe her name, and Neytiri slowly backs up, stealing glances between you and Tuk and Quaritch.

You let Tuk lead you into the water, too busy watching Jake as he stands at the edge of the sinking ship, making sure you all can leave unharmed.

“You’re not gonna leave, are you, Jake?”

His words are strong, and he hides his emotions well, but you still hear the desperation. Pathetic, you think to yourself, wishing nothing more than to spit the word at him. But- you won’t endanger this already precarious situation. You won’t cut the strings of the web, not when there are only so many left.

“Knowing that I’ll never stop? I’m coming for you and kill your whole family,” he hisses, pure disgust in his voice, venom almost dripping from his words.

You all get into the deeper waters, letting go of Tuk so you can swim properly, herding her in front of you, away from the sinking ship and the fire on it.

“Dad!” Kiri calls, broken and helpless.

Jake stands for a second, straightening, as he seems to contemplate Quaritch’s words.

Just as his ears tuck down for a quick second, you realize what he is about to do.

He will shoot forward and try to kill the insane man in front of you, maybe even kill himself in the process.

He’ll get hurt, at the least, and who will be left at the end of this to clean his wounds? You, maybe, if your body does not fail from shock and exhaustion. Neytiri is changed, now- her blade was pointed down, meant to kill a young boy, meant to sink into his heart. Tuk, Kiri, Lo’ak, and Neteyam are children. You tiptoe around it, act like they are older than they are, because they seem so much like it.

They seem so brave and strong, so smart and beautiful. Like they were given the option between smart and brave and they ignored the directions and swallowed both- leaving you with the most amazing children on the planet.

Children, battle-hardened and eyes sunk in, seen too much, done too much. You watched your children kill today, watched them almost be killed. You feel sick and horrible, like a terrible mother and a disgusting person. How could you let this happen?

But you still trust Jake and Neytiri, still know them, still See them. They are everything- they are your past, the ache under your ribs, they are your present, what made that ache stop, and they are your future- when you look out towards the horizon all you see is them. All you see is your family.

You know the three of you could protect your children, let them be children, let them be safe and happy.

But Jake is not the kind of person who can live on a promise; on a what-if. He is warrior. He wants blood and ear and victory to prove things he already knows. That is how he settles things- through violence and blood. That is why Neytiri said what she said- blood for blood.

Blood of theirs was spilled, so blood of his will be too.

You make a jump towards him in that split second where you realize, leaping to him through the water- to do what? Jump in front of him? Protect him? With what weapon?

He won’t let you die for him. And you can’t either, because you know it would only hurt him. He would only blame himself, and how cruel what it be to hurt him- hurt them- even beyond the grave.

Neytiri is the same. She jumps into things, consequences be damned, and she jumped into you and you couldn’t be more glad for it. But still- she holds violence in her heart, and you saw it this night. Maybe you did not want to believe the fierceness she fought with, her raw rage and disregard for herself- but it was there. She came and she jumped and now your family is safe- and the price to pay is blood.

Jake Sully’s song is one of violence, but you ignore it.

Neytiri’s song is one of violence, and you ignore it.

You ignore it because they make you ignore it.

Because you know they love you, you know they will protect you, and that is all you have ever wanted. But more than that- they know you, and you know them.

You know them, your heart knows them, but you heart doesn’t know the future.

My heart never knows, you think, bitterly and you are horrible and sick and tired so fully in love with them.

“Then let’s get it done,” Jake says, and your heart doesn’t know if your family will survive this.

—-

taglist:

@sully-stick-together @corrupt-cadaver420 @jadynchronicle @imthefunniestpersonalive @fangil101 @mashiromochi @rey26 @soothinghummerz @myheartfollower @pwallettes @melodykisses @ghoulbli @fanboyluvr @itsyaspwr @khaleesihavilliard @capbrie @nothingfuninthislife @faceaeter @thetrashindrakensroom @makeup-stuff-and-such @my-dearest-agent @miyamuraaaa @xoxovienna @arschbohrer @amazingaries @ssc7514 @milf-lover-23 @w3ird11 @littlexscarletxwitch @tiajk @kuldren @blackgirlwriting @tojigirl @trulyrogers @aeslenya @3okutos-3ig-toe @peterparkeeperer @ambria @homeispandora @hxgemxscles @ripnevillestrevor @amiets2 @reallysparklychaos @ok-boke @dumb-fawkin-bitch @nerd-squad-headquarters @abaker74 @ara-a-bird @queenzeemelanin092201-blog @marvelsimps @marydragneell @lola-bunn1 @erenjaegerwifee @blackgaladriel @vane28282 @eternallyvenus @aerangi @alwaysinwritersblock @minkyungseokie @luvlykrispy @ivyplays @slutforspacelatinos @tejas-kris @zia1023 @noname2246

[ravennaortiz]

Avenging Angel

Summary: Follow OC Cori as she works out how to handle her fathers death two years later. To kill or not to kill is not the only question she has to wrestle with. This is the follow up to Revenge but can be read by itself. As always 18+.

Word Count: 2.9k+

Cori sat sipping her water and pretending to be indulged in her book as she the hot Santo Padre sun bore down. The plant filled balcony of her villa giving her the perfect view of the whole street while also blocking her from the eyes of the people who came and went.  The roar of motorcycles had her eyes sliding from the shop front of Carniceria Reyes to down the street. Her eyes landing on the approaching bikes and men upon them. Her hands moving to her pen and notebook.

-The younger brother rides what appears to be a custom Softail. Older brother has a deluxe Softail. -

Eyes flicking back up to the two men who she had an arsenal of information about thanks to her Old Man and her own observations over the last couple of weeks. She was nothing if not her fathers daughter. She watched them until they disappeared into the shop front. From her research she knew it was owned by their father Felipe. The building was one story with a front and back door. It consisted of a big room once you walked in with a counter top that ran along one wall. It also had a decent sized walk in freezer and a small office area. It was decorated in the traditional Spanish imagery and décor. A small bookshelf was next to the door when you walked in.

This she had learned from her couple of visits. Felipe by all appearances seemed like a sweet old man who only wanted the best for his sons and missed his beloved wife dearly. Like her own father who had kept her in the dark about a lot of his doings and only wanted he best for his best friend’s kid. He had raised her even though she wasn’t his.  But Cori could tell there was a past he held close to his heart like her father had rest his soul.

 The similarities between her father and Felipe is what had kept his blood from being spilt during their first encounter when she had first stepped through that door. That and her having never hurt anyone let alone killed someone. What had stopped her the second time was finding out it was the anniversary of Marisols death. How could she kill a man as he remembered his wife she had told herself. That day they had chatted for hours as he talked about his wife who had been killed in the shop. His sons bearing witness and giving chase to the killer before he slipped away. That night is the night his family broke he said. He lost not only his wife but both sons. One to jail and the other to the local Mayans charter.

Cori had been so lost in her thoughts she hadn’t heard the footsteps behind her until the pressure of a hand on her shoulder had her spinning. The blade of her knife touching a black shirt right as a hand and voice stopped her.

“Jesus Christ Cori” exclaimed Juice as he latched onto her wrist and jumping back slightly.

“Shit. I’m sorry baby” apologized Cori as she let he knife fall as she stared into the terrified brown eyes of her Old Man. “I didn’t hear you. Startled me…. I …I…so sorry” she continued to ramble shaken from what would have been a horrific event. Not only would she have hurt the one person she loved the most but she would have exposed them both in the center of Mayans territory.

Juice swallowed hard as he let go of her wrist. Nodding his head he closed his eyes and worked on breathing to lower his heart rate. Sliding into the chair next to her before saying anything. This right here is why he wanted to pack it up and leave. The need to be vigilant and act first was at the forefront of their minds.

“It’s okay babygirl” soothed Juice as he reached for her hand and squeezed. “Almost being eviscerated just now really sums up why I should have stayed home. Should have listened to my Old Lady when she told me it was dangerous and I would stand out” he teased making Cori sigh and give him a small chuckle.

“I stand by the danger part.” Huffed Cori as she chuckled. Her own heartrate slowing down. As much as she hadn’t wanted Juice to come with her for fear of him being hurt or killed for simply being a SON, she was glad he had disregarded her reasoning.  “What do you think my dad would say?” she whispered as she pushed her sunglasses onto her head, her blue eyes searching his.

Juice rubbed his thumb in a circle on her hand. It was a good question and similar to one he had been asking himself lately. “He would tell you that he is proud of you but then in the same breath tell you not to be risking yourself. That he was already dead, you dying trying to avenge him will not bring him back. Killing won’t bring him back. Then he would turn on me about being a dumbass for letting his daughter put herself here. Let you put yourself not only in the middle of Mayan territory but also sit back and watch as you chatted and exchanged numbers with a couple. Letting you contemplate actually going to the clubhouse for a party. Pretty confident he would have a stern face as he chewed on his tooth pick while chewing us out” he added with a small laugh as he gave her hand another squeeze before pulling it to his face and kissing it.

Cori nodded as she processed his words. He was right, deep down, she know exactly what her dad would say about this. Risk management was something he had drilled into her. Never explained why it was so important but now that she knew about the dark side, the Tacoma Killer side of her dad she got it. He had hid a part of himself to keep her as safe as possible.  The risk management he had done is what had not only surprised his killers that dreadful Sunday night almost two years ago but was what had kept her alive. That and the mercy of one of his killers. Coris mind briefly went back to that night and the last words that either Mayan had said to her before her life change forever

"I know this is hard to believe but I truly am sorry about this. You have my word your dads death will be quick and he will be buried properly. You also have my word you will be safe. If you ever need anything and cant get a hold of a SON you can call me and I'll make it happen" stated Angel as he handed her a folded piece of paper before patting her knee and heading out of the house.

“You are right” stated Cori as she tapped her fingers for a moment on the table. Her eyes flickering to the door of the shop as it opened. Quickly she grabbed her phone and opened her contacts scrolling to a number she saved but never thought she would use. Meeting Juices eyes she dialed as he nodded, during his digging he had found out some interesting thigs about the younger Reyes. She was so thankful for him and his willingness to let her do what she needed for her closure within reason.

Angels POV

“Hello” greeted Angel brow furrowed as he hadn’t recognized the number. Waving bye at his pops as he walked to his bike with EZ.

“No reactions. Lets keep boy scout in the dark a bit” stated a female voice that he couldn’t place. Angel stepped away a bit from EZ who was already seated on his bike and watching his curiously.

“How do you know that” inquired Angel the hairs on the back of his neck lifting. He felt like he was being watched.

“I heard it during my recon. Same way I know your father is closing early today to go to a chess tournament. Do you own anything other than flannel?” inquired the woman as Angels eyes darted around. He knew he was being watched. The woman didn’t sound malicious but she could be reading off a script.

“What do you want?” demanded Angel as he began searching the faces off the crowded street.

“Originally your dads death but I think I’ll take your pledge of my protection tonight at the scarpyard. Coco and Gilly both said it will be a hell of a party when they invited me.” Replied the woman. Angel scrunched his face. This conversation was getting weirder by the moment. Was he being pranked he wondered.

“Why?” asked Angel not knowing exactly what he was wanting an answer too.

“Because I can’t get a hold of a SON. Don’t forget to put your helmet on” replied the woman before the call ended. Angels heart practically dropped as he started spinning in tight circles as he searched for the caller. He knew she had to be close. Ignoring EZ who was asking what was wrong he burst back into the shop.

“Pop. Has there been anyone coming in or out who seemed outta place?” demanded Angel as he looked around the shop with his gun out.  “No, just the usuals and some tourists” replied his father as he continued to clean the counter top and close up shop.  “Why?” he asked as he glanced up frowning at the gun in Angels hands. “Are you sure? No women who don’t seem…..native?” inquired Angel trying to decide how to describe the woman without giving his dad hints.

“I mean there is a white, young lady who just moved here a few weeks ago. I assume that’s what you mean by not native. She’s been very sweet and friendly when she’s been in. We have had lunch a few times” started Felipe as he went back to cleaning as he talked.

Angel felt like he was about to explode. His dads words a few weeks going through his head on repeat. How could neither him or EZ have realized they were being watched. Maybe it wasn’t her though he thought. “Describe her pops” demanded Angel as he stalked over and yanked the rag from his dads hands.

“White, blonde, blue eyes. Wedding ring so I assumed married though I never saw her husband. She has a bird tattoo on her left inner forearm…..” started Felipe as he took the rag back.

“A crow?” inquired Angel as he interrupted his dad who just gave him a look.

“I’m not an expert on birds Angel. I don’t have time for this I need to close up.” Stated Felipe as he glanced at the clock on his wall as he began to push his son to the door.

“You good?” inquired EZ as Angel was shoved out of the shop.

“Yeah” replied Angel as he took one more look around before getting on his bike.His mind was plagued with thoughts and questions as they made there way to the clubhouse. Maybe she just needs help he tried to reason with himself. Maybe something happened. If her intent had been to hurt someone she would have…..right? His dad had said he never saw her husband and if memory served him right she was married to the mohawked guy. No way would he have let her come here alone. Unless she didn’t…..but surely they would have noticed a SON in Santo Padre. How the hell had she linked up with Coco and Gilly? Well enough to get invited to the clubhouse. Surely they would have noticed the tattoo….unless she hid it.

Mayans Clubhouse

Cori’s POV

Cori was thankful that Coco was pulling into the lot finally. Not that she didn’t like to be on a bike but to be on the back of another mans was foreign to her. Besides her dads bike growing up she had only ever been on Juices. Speaking of Juice she really wished he was here to calm her down. She took a deep breath as Coco parked the bike before helping her off. “if your cover is blown, you give me up no ands, ifs or buts Cor. Give up anything you know” Juice had said before she walked out the door.  

Angels POV

Angel smiled as he stood and greeted Cori as Coco introduced her to the table. He couldn’t help the chuckle as he recognized the name from the new strip club that had opened up a few months ago. Coco had been raving about the new girl Jewel for a few weeks and how cool she was. He had been clear they were just friends whenever anyone teased him. It was making a lot of sense how Cori had gone undetected for so long.

Angels eyes flickered to his little brother as Coco introduced him and saw no recognition cross his face as he stood and shook her hand. How the hell could he not recognize someone he had been adamant they shoot and kill just because she had been in the wrong place at the wrong time?

“I’m going to go talk to Bishop and grab some beers. You keep an eye on her Angel” stated Coco before he disappeared into the crowd.  Cori smiled as she sat down across from them. Angel couldn’t help but acknowledge the bravery of having her back to the rest of the clubhouse. He observed her as EZ and her made small talk. His eyes landing on her crow tattoo and the ring she sported on her left arm. He frowned slightly at the silliness to have the tattoo on display.

“That is a nice tattoo, any meaning” he heard EZ ask pulling him from his thoughts.

“Its silly” laughed Cori as she met his eyes. “I just really love crows. They are just so handsome and I love the fact that a group of them is called a murder” she added. “Just a nerd about birds. What about you two?” she inquired as she tilted her head.

Cori’s POV

As each hour passed Cori felt more comfortable. This wasn’t unlike the SAMCRO parties and she felt weirdly at home. The only thing bugging her was the fact EZ had no idea who she was. At first she thought it was just him having a really good poker face. As the night had passed on and she had dropped hints he was still just as naïve as ever. Maybe he had too much on his mind with being an informant to be worried about the daughter of a man he killed sitting in front of him.

Cori had been playing pool with Angel when she felt the atmosphere change. Looking towards the clubhouse door her eyes locked with Marcus Alvarez before slipping to the man behind him. Chibs, she thought as he met her gaze briefly before looking away and following Marcus to the Templo door. The Mayans would not be the only ones being shaken up after the events of tonight.

Angels POV

Angel couldn’t breathe, he felt like the room was spinning as he looked from Gilly to Cori to Coco to Cori and back again. The look of concern on Coris face had him laughing. This had to be a joke a sick twisted joke. No, this couldn’t be true his own brother? No his own brother wouldn’t be a rat. Wouldn’t be planning on tossing the blame on him right?

Angel paced the storage room for a couple minutes. Trying to process everything that had happened and been said in the last twenty minutes.

“Why?” demanded Angel as he spun around pushing Cori into the wall before Gilly or Coco could stop him. Her blue eyes locked on his as she peered up at him towering above her.

“Because you spared me” replied Cori meeting his dark gaze. He hadn’t had to say the whole question for her to know what he was asking. “I could have let him throw you under the bus tonight like he planned to do and then killed him. Both my dad’s killers taken care of but that would be cowardly. If I ever decide to kill you Angel I’m going to look you in the eyes while the life drains out of them” continued Cori calmly as Angel loosened his grip and stepped back.

EZ’S POV

EZ could only cough and sputter as he lay bleeding out on his couch. What had started off as a hookup had led to a betrayal he hadn’t expected “Bet you recognize me now. Too bad you won’t be able to tell Angel you were right” stated Cori as she slipped her top and jeans back on. Careful to not step in the  pooling blood. “Where should I put that smiley face tattoo?” she laughed as she watched blood seep from his mouth as she sat on his counter top.

EZ struggled to keep focus but his mind slipped to that night two years ago

"We should have just killed them. You really think she won’t talk, won’t get the SONS to track us down?" whispered EZ angrily as he shoved Angel.

EZ couldn’t help but think how they both had been right

She knows how the MC works and honestly I think if she decided she wanted revenge for what is to come tonight she will do it on her own." Angel had stated.

-The End

[backscratches]

'Hey Sweetheart' part 2

The Sinclair brothers x F!child!Reader (platonic)

Warnings: Father-Daughter relationship, kidnapping, death, slashers, baby/toddler reader, yelling, cursing

|last part| |next part|

Bo had made Vincent take the baby and carry her up to the house. He decided to clean up the bodies later, this problem was much more important now, his brother was much more important now.

As soon as they arrived inside the Sinclair house, he quickly went to the phone and called Lester.

"Heya big brother didn't think I was going to hear from you so soon"Lester answered and his big brother quickly told him "Now's not the time Lester, get your ass here we have an emergency",he set the phone down and took a big sigh.

During the phone call Vincent had taken a seat on the sofa with the baby. He held her close to his chest and made sure to support her neck. Even tho he hadn't done this before, he had seen it on the TV. And since his father had been a doctor he himself had also learned how fragile a baby was.

Bo watched from the kitchen as Vincent "played" around with the babygirl dressed in skimmy white onesie with pink flowers all over it. Bo's face showed both confusion and anger. The reason he was angry was that his brother had to make this babe everyones problem. He looked away quickly and began to make himself coffee. He felt like it was going to be a long night and needed to prepare for that.

After half a hour Lesters car finally came to stop Infront of the house. Bo had taken a seat next to Vincent who still held the sleeping baby in his arms. They had been watching the television when the sound of a car and Jonesys barking quickly averted their focus away.

As Lester ran to the door and busted through it, scared of this emergency that he had been told about, Jonesy ran from Vincents bedroom upstairs barking loudly.

This sadly woke up the baby who now started to wail loudly. The loud cry from the babygirl in Vincent's arms, who was now in a mild panic, caught both Lesters and Jonesys attention. The younger brother quickly became to ask rapid question from his brothers about the emergency that he had been called for."What the hell Bo did you call me here for?! Yall are just sitting here on yalls fat asses what do you need me for?!" Jonesy careful and on high alert, slowly moved towards the crying object that Vincent was in haste trying to calm.

Bo become finally telling his brother where the baby had come from while his twin was focused on trying to stop the cries from the girl in his hold.

Jonesy slowly approached the buddle in his owners lap, sniffing it carefully.

Lester now aware of the situation took a look at the baby crying in his brothers arms.

"Is it going to stay?" He asked almost with a whisper.

Bo didn't answer instead he looked at his twin brother now holding the baby from underneath it's armpits, Infront of his face.

"Well what fo you think Vincent?" Bo asked with a attitude but also worryingly for the answer he was going to get.

Vincent stayed quiet for a while only looking at the crying baby Infront of his face, now reaching for him, for his mask covered face.

"She'll need clothes" was the only thing Vincent sayed to his brothers before turning all his attention to the baby in his arms.

Bo let out a sigh and Lester only stared at the bundle in Vincent's hold.

"Sweetpea also needs a name" Lester informed with a smile forming on his face.

Bo put his head down and averted his gaze to the babygirl. "Lester why don't you head to the store and get some stuff for the girlie here" he told in a commanding voice to his baby brother. Lester only nodded before he was out of the door and back on the road.

"Vincent..." Bo talked to his brother in a whisper even tho he could barely be heard through the load screams of the baby next to him. Bo let out another load sigh and got up from the sofa. He quickly made his way to the kitchen in hopes of finding something for the baby. The best thing for now being milk obviously.

Vincent held the crying child awkwardly while his brother did his thing in the kitchen. Vincent was a quiet child growing up and he always enjoyed silence but the cries of the girl in his arms didn't infuriate him, they made him worried.

What could he do to make the baby better? For it to stop crying.

He wasn't sure but he knew generally what babies needed so he hoped Lester had most of those things covered. For now his brother was the one making the girly something to calm her down.

Jonesy had now gotten used to the wailing of the baby and sat obediently next to her owners feet still sniffing curiously at the baby. Vincent knew that Jonesy was there, next to him, just as curious as him but he didn't know would the baby like Jonesy. Everyone likes dogs right? But did his dog like babies. She hadn't at least bit her face of so that's a good start.

Bo came back to the living room couch with a warm bottle of milk. He obviously a kinda knew what he was doing.

"Hand her over to me" Bo told his brother but he only glanced at Bo, not even nudging towards him.

"Give her to me or she's going to scream herself to death" Bo said now in a aggravated tone towards his brother.

Eventually he did hand the child to his brothers hold. Bo began to try to feed the crying kid in his arms but found it difficult when she was screaming bloody murder.

Finally the girl in his arms recognized that there was a bottle Infront of her face, ready to feed her. She made grabby hands towards it and Bo quickly directed it to her mouth. She stopped crying, now only covered in tears and trying to take breaths the best she can. Bo watched in awe as the child in his hold drank the milk he offered her, he was feeding her, and it felt amazing to provide for someone as small, defendless and innocent as her.

As she finished her drink, she became to show signs of falling asleep once again.

As the brothers held the sleeping baby in their arms they waited for Lester to return and bring most of the things they were in need of.

Sure they could dress her in their own old baby clothes but they didn't own diapers or food for her.

Bo turned on the TV, on a low volume of course, and Vincent let Jonesy jump beside them. The dog was now more calm around the babe but wasn't sure if she was allowed to touch her so she kept her distance.

After a hour or so the baby was in a deep sleep in Vincent hold, Bo was watching the TV and drinking a beer, Jonesy was about to fall asleep and Lester finally drove back.

The sound the car was alot more quieter this time, obviously Lester trying to be careful of waking the possibly sleeping babe.

He walked in the house silent as possible, carrying three grocery bags of baby stuff. Bo got up and went to help his baby brother with the groceries he had been forced to get for the child.

"I got it all! Diapers, food, some clothes even and I saw this cute teddy bear on the shelf so I had to take it too!" Lester told excited to his brothers.

"Thank you" the masked twin told his brother.

Bo started to unpack the bags while Lester came and I sit next to his brother and finally take a good look at the kid he had taken as his own.

Bo knew what a big responsibility having a child was, and didn't make it any easier that the baby was a girl in a house full of three men that didn't get a good education growling up. The situation seemed pretty bad, not even pretty, it was bad. But Bo loved his brother. And if this is what he needed then he was going to give it to him.

The oldest brother glanced at the group sitting at the sofa. Everything seemed blissful right now. Lester was home. Bo was calm. Vincent was happy. And the baby was asleep lucky for them.

"So where is she going to sleep? Can't put her in the basement, too warm." Bo asked his brother, not looking at him but still addressing him.

"What about upstairs, maybe in Vincent's room since he kinda claimed her you know?" Lester voiced his thoughts.

Vincent let out a agreeing hum, looking down at the pale bundle in his arms.

"She needs a bed" Lester sayed.

"There's probably some box or a old crib in the basement we could use" Bo answered.

Bo finally finished unboxing the bags for the baby and came back to the living room.

"So what about the name?" He asked his brothers.

"Vincent...?" Lester looked at his brother trying to get a answer from him.

"Y/N..." He whispered looking at his little treasure.

[basiccortez]

The Man in the Red Suit

pairing: Rip Wheeler x female!Dutton warnings: minor Yellowstone spoilers ahead (Lee's death, season five things), mentions of grief and death, Rip being a grinch Rip Wheeler Masterlist | Yellowstone Masterlist Yellowstone Taglist Form

Note: Merry Christmas to all! :)

“Why do I have to dress up?” Rip asked for probably the thousandth time since you pulled out the red santa suit, beard and hat. 

“Because it’s Evelyn’s first Christmas and I want her to take a picture with Santa Clause,” You said, curling your hair in the mirror. It was Christmas Eve and your sister had invited the whole family to the house for dinner, drinks and gifts. It was yours and Rip's first Christmas as parents and you wanted it to be perfect. Evelyn was only seven months old so she wouldn’t be able to know if anything went wrong or not, but you would know. 

“And your dad or Kayce can’t but on the ridiculous-” 

“No! It has to be you!” You sighed, putting down the hot iron, “Evelyn won’t sit on my dads or Kayce’s lap. You saw how she acted when we took her to see Santa at the coffee shop.” 

“Well he was a bit-” Rip shut up when you gave him a glare through the reflection of the mirror. He knew better than to argue with a Dutton woman, it was one sure way to get a fist to the face. Rip opened his mouth to say something just as Evelyn let out a cry, “We’ll discuss later.” 

You smiled to yourself as you finished getting ready for the Christmas party. When you walked downstairs your heart warmed in your chest seeing Rip holding Evelyn and looking at the ornaments on the tree. She had his big brown eyes and dark curls, you were amazed how much hair she had at such a young age. She was really her father’s twin, there was no mistaking who she belonged to. 

It was also amazing to see how quickly Rip took on the role of being a father. He had his reservations about it, he was young when his mother died and his father was a monster. It kept him up at night thinking about the type of parent he would be. Would he be mean like his old man? Would his child grow up to hate him? To be afraid of him? For those nine months you were carrying Evelyn, Rip read every single parenting book he could get his hands on. He asked Kayce and John for advice. None of it really made sense to him, but then he saw his babygirl for the first time, and it did. Rip was an amazing dad. 

“Momma is staring at us again,” Rip whispered to Evelyn and kissed her cheek. She giggled at the feeling of his beard on her soft little cheek, “You ready? It’s cold out, and I don’t want her to sweat in the car seat and then go outside. That’s how kids get sick.”

“I am ready,” You nodded, “I just gotta get the baby bag, the gift for Dad and Beth, and the cookies for Tate.” 

“All of that is in the car and it’s running,” Rip said. 

“What would I do without you?” You asked with a smile on your face. You leaned up on your tiptoes and kissed his lips, “Can you put her in the car seat? I’ll grab the Santa suit.” 

Rip rolled his eyes as you skipped back down the hall towards the bedroom, “Your mom is crazy,” He whispered to Evelyn and the little girl turned to face her father, showing him a gummy smile. Rip smiled at his daughter, kissing her cheek again and then going to put her in her car seat. 

The Dutton house was decorated from floor to ceiling for Christmas, which was probably Beth’s doing. She may lie to your face and say she hates kids, but she would do anything to make her niece and nephew smile. Christmas also made her happy, despite what she says, it was the one time of year where all the Dutton siblings seemed to put their bullshit aside for a couple hours. Rip parked as close to the door as he could get, he didn’t want to carry Evelyn that far in the cold weather. 

“You can put the Santa suit on after dinner,” You said as you  walked up the path towards the front door, “While we’re cleaning up and setting up gifts, it will be perfect.” You opened the front door, and walked into the warm smelling house. 

“Yeah,” Rip said as he walked in behind you. 

“Aunt Y/N, you’re here!” Tate yelled running up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“Hey bud,” You kissed the top of his head, “Have you grown again?” 

“Probably,” Kayce said, and greeted you with a quick kiss on your head, “Wakes up five inches taller than the night before. Where’s the little one?” 

“Rip’s got her,” You said and nodded your head over to the living room where Rip was taking Evelyn out of her car seat, Monica waiting for her chance at baby snuggles, “How is she?” 

“Better,” Kayce sighed, “I think having Evelyn on Wednesdays helps. She might have gone a tad overboard with the gifts for her, but it’s her first Christmas.” 

“If you think Monica has spoiled her, wait until you see what Beth has put under the tree,” Your dad said, also giving you a kiss on the head in greeting, “Gator is ready to serve dinner.” 

“Sounds good, daddy,” You said and then walked over to your husband, who was watching Monica hold his daughter. Monica was slowly looking better since the loss of her son John. It was actually her that asked if she could babysit Evelyn for you while you were spending time going back to work for your dad’s new role as governor. It was nice to see her smile again. 

“Dad wants us at the table,” You said to them. 

“Thanks Y/N,” Monica said, and handed you your daughter, “She looks like she’s feeling better.” 

“She is. Thank you very much for those tips,” You smiled at the woman before she walked off to go find her own family. 

Gator probably spent the whole day working on the Christmas dinner for the Duttons. The table was stocked full of ham, mashed potatoes, stuffing, all the fixings. John sat at the head of the table like he usually did, you and Beth on either side of him. Rip sat next to you, and Tate on the other side of him. Kayce sat on the other end, with Monica on his left. There usually was one more person at the table, but Jamie had turned down Beth’s (not so nice) invite. John had dug around in the basement for the high chair that they’ve had since you were a baby to put Evelyn in. She sat between you and John. 

“So, Tate,” Beth said, taking a sip of her wine and looking up at you with a glint in her eye. She knew of your plan to get Rip into the Santa costume and hopefully telling Tate outloud will help seal the deal, “I hear Santa is coming by.” 

“He’s not real,” Tate answered and Rip looked at you with a shit eating grin, “I’m not five anymore.” 

“See, he’s not five, and Evelyn is too-” 

“You are putting on the damn Santa outfit,” You harshly whispered to him, “If I have to stuff you in it myself, you’re putting it on.” 

“I’d like to see you try,” Rip challenged and you glared at him. Kayce watched as the small stare down between you and Rip was broken up by Evelyn throwing a piece of bread on the floor. He could see that the whole Santa thing was somewhat bothering you, he knew you well enough to know how much Christmas means to you. You only got to spend one Christmas with your mother before her death, and you cherished the family moments like this. 

“Act surprised when he gets here,” Kayce whispered to his son, “For Evelyn.” 

“Why?” Tate asked, “She’s just a baby.” 

“Because it means alot to Aunt Y/N,” Kayce said and then cleared his throat, “She only had one Christmas with our mom, and it meant a lot to her. The only pictures she really has are of her, Santa and our mom.” 

Tate looked down at his food, and then up at his dad. In his short life, he had gone through a lot, and had witnessed loss at first hand. He looked over at his aunt who excused herself from the table to take care of his younger cousin. He thought to himself that there would’ve been two babies at Christmas, but instead, there’s just one. 

Tate nodded, “Okay. I will, I promise.” Kayce smiled at his son and patted his shoulder. 

When everyone's bellies were full, the family retired to the living room, where they started opening gifts from the large pile underneath the Christmas tree. You sat on the floor with Evelyn on your lap, helping her tear into the packages that Tate was handing her. She was having more fun sticking the wrapping paper in her mouth than trying to open the gifts. Both Beth and Monica had their phones out making sure to take pictures to capture the moments. The men all sat back with drinks in their hands, talking about cattle and giving the occasional “oh that’s cool” when it was needed. 

“Tate, why don’t you help Evelyn open the gifts from us,” Monica and moved down on the floor next to the kids. 

“I noticed you don’t have the Santa costume on,” You whispered to Rip. 

“There’s no need to put the ridiculous suit on,” Rip said, sipping his whisky, “She’s not going to remember it.” You clenched your jaw as you looked at the ground, “She’s a baby. It can wait until-” 

“It can’t wait!” You yelled and the eyes of your family members looked at you. You sucked in a breath to compose yourself and stood up from the floor, “I’m sorry. It’s just. . . its tradition.” 

“Y/N,” Rip called out to you, trying to grab your hand as you walked away from the living room. He sighed and ran a hand over his beard. 

“She believed in Santa until she was about fourteen,” John said, “Might’ve been partially my fault. I paid Paul Adler to dress up as Santa and come to the house. I guess it was my way of holding on to the things my Evelyn used to do.” John looked at the last family portrait that was sitting on the mantel above the fireplace. It was taken on Christmas eve of 1996. You were in your mothers arm with Lee looking over her shoulder at you. You were the closest with Lee growing up, and his death affected you much harder than anyone else. 

“I never realized how much it meant,” Rip answered, “I just thought it was something silly that she wanted to do for the kids.” 

“Everything that girl does has meaning to it. She just doesn’t do things ‘just because’. You’ll learn that soon enough.” 

Rip nodded and then stood up from the couch, going down the hall after you. Monica smiled at her father-in-law. They hadn’t ever had a close relationship, John saw Monica as the woman who was going to take his son away from him, but they had bonded over the horrible shared grief between them. John looked at Monica, and the woman handed her his granddaughter. 

“C’mere, Evie,” John said, lifting the baby from Monica’s arms, “How about you open this?” He grabbed the small box from the side table and helped the little one open it. It was her very first pair of cowboy boots, “Every girl needs a pair of boots.” He kissed her forehead and helped her put them on her feet. 

You were laying on your childhood bed, staring up at the ceiling where there were once glow in the dark stars that Lee helped you put up. Your father was livid and worried that they would pull the paint off the ceiling, but Lee assured him that it wouldn’t. The next person in this house who loved the Christmas traditions besides you was Lee. He would stay up late with you to wrap presents as you would write in fancy handwriting ‘To who, from Santa.” When you were younger, he would be the one to eat the cookies, and leave “snowy” (which was actually flour) footprints by the fireplace as if good Ol’ Saint Nick had actually come down the chimney to leave gifts. One time, he even brought a horse up from the barn to leave “reindeer” prints in the fresh snow (however, you knew a horse track when you saw one). 

You thought that overtime, the grief of losing your mother and brother would slowly start to subside, but it seemed as if this Christmas, it had come back in full blast. Maybe it was because you were a mother now, and you knew how fragile life could be and change with a snap of a finger.

“Baby?” You heard Rip’s voice before you saw him. You just sighed, and listened as his heavy boots walked over to you, “I’m sorry about the Santa stuff.” 

“My dad tell you I believed in Santa until I was thirteen.” 

“He said fourteen.” 

“He’s a fucking liar. Jamie told me on my thirteenth birthday that I can’t believe Santa was real anymore,” You said and sat up from your bed, “I should be apologizing to you.” 

“For what?” Rip asked, and sat next to you on the bed. 

“I know the holidays aren’t your thing,” You said and grabbed his hand. Your nervous habit was playing with his hands, “And I shouldn’t have pushed you so much into doing it.” 

Rip smiled sadly at you, and grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it, “The holidays are my thing because they are your thing. They make you happy, and anything that makes you happy makes me happy. Besides, Evelyn seems to love it.” 

You giggled and shook your head, moving closer to your husband. He wrapped his strong arms around you, “You’re right, Evelyn won’t remember this. She’s spending more time shoving wrapping paper in her mouth than knowing what's going on.” 

“But we will remember,” Rip said and kissed your cheek, “We will remember Evelyn’s first Christmas and that’s what matters.” 

“Thank you,” You said, looking up at him. 

“For what, baby? I nearly ruined this shit.” 

“For giving me the best Christmas present ever,” You smiled up at him. He caressed your face and then placed a kiss on your lips. You hummed into the kiss, and ran your fingers through his brown curls. He moved you in his lap, so you were straddling him, and he laid back against the bed. His hands roamed your body, going down to your hips. Your tongues moved against one another, you being able to taste the whiskey on his tongue. 

A knock on the door startled you both as you lifted your head up to see Beth standing in the doorway, “Oh don’t stop on my account,” She had a smirk on her face and you rolled your eyes, “But there’s someone here to see you.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows and climbed off of Rip and your bed. You walked down towards the living room and stopped in your tracks seeing, 

“Santa?” 

“Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!” Santa said, standing in the middle of your living room. You looked at your sister and Rip. 

“I made a call,” Beth smiled, and you threw your arms around her, hugging her tightly, “Oh-” 

“Thank you, Bethy,” You said and then went towards your child who was back in Monica’s arms. Rip looked a bit confused as he watched you place Evelyn in Santa’s arms. He looked around the living room spotting Kayce, John, and Gator all standing around. 

“Who did-” Rip asked Beth but then he heard Santa speak again, “Lloyd?” 

Beth shrugged, “He owed me a favor.” 

Rip shook his head, and then walked towards his family. Beth let out a breath in relief as she watched her family gather around to talk to “Santa”. Evelyn surprisingly didn’t cry when she was set on Santa’s lap, probably because she was too distracted by all the movement around her. 

“Get together you three,” Monica said, grabbing your phone from you, “I’ll take a picture.” 

“Rip, sit on the other side of Santa’s lap,” You said and he gave you a deadpanned look, “It’s for the memories, sweetheart.” 

“Only for you, honey,” Rip gave you a fake smile as he carefully sat on Lloyd’s other knee. 

“Don’t break me bossman,” Lloyd said and Rip also gave him a glare, “It’s for the kid, don’t be a grinch! Smile!” 

“Call me a grinch again and I’ll have you scrapping shit-” 

“Okay, smile!” Monica said, “1. . . 2. . . 3!” 

You, Rip and “Santa” smiled at the camera as Evelyn was still looking up amazed at Santa. You took her from Santa’s lap and looked at the pictures Monica took. 

“They’re perfect!” You cheered, “Thank you so much, Santa.” 

“No problem! Ho, ho, ho!” Santa said and Beth led him out the front door. 

Rip put his arm around your shoulders, “You know what they say about Mistletoe.” 

You looked up above your head to see the green twig hanging above you. You smiled and grabbed Rip’s face, bringing him down to you for a kiss, “Merry Christmas, Mr. Wheeler.” 

“Merry Christmas to you, Mrs. Wheeler.

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Interlude 11h, Live Reactions

Okay.

So.

This is the one I've been really waiting for. So I'm going to go all out for this, because it's, you know, the Interlude. The only one from Arc 11 really worth reading. A key reason I'm even reading Worm in the first place, since if Amy hadn't done this and all that flows from it, Worm probably wouldn't have caught my interest enough back when I made that errant comment.

All the attendant 'this is a live reaction' stuff applies.

Amy sat on her bed, staring at the piece of paper in her hands.  The header at the top was stylized, a silhouette of a superhero with a cape flowing, with a script reading ‘The Guild’ extending to the right.

Given how Amy is going to be reasonably important for the next few arcs, and then show up significantly more in the back half of the work than she did Arcs 1-11, I kind of feel like...

This is too late to be getting our first Amy POV?

I mean, Amy's been sort of lurking at the end of the narrative for a while, and blind readers have presumably guessed all the teases about Amy are building up to something, and they are, but like...

A lot has to be fit into this Interlude, all at once, and maybe some of it could have, and indeed should have, been shown earlier, I'm gonna guess?

Like, any hypothetical worm TV show is absolutely going to have to show some of Amy's life much sooner than this. It's just not going to work if this is suddenly the first glimpse we get of Amy's perspective.

But also, BABYGIRL! AMY! MY LITTLE MEOW MEOW!

Mrs. Carol Dallon.  Brandish, Let me open by stating my condolences for the loss of your brother-in-law, nephew, and your husband’s injury.  I have heard New Wave is currently considering disbanding, and you have my best wishes, whatever route you end up taking.  We have too few heroes and heroines to lose them, and even fewer of the truly good heroes and heroines who set the standard for everyone else, parahuman and human alike.  If finances ever become a concern, know that all you need to do is ask, and we will find you employment among the Guild’s uncostumed staff. Knowing what you have been through as of late, it is with a heavy heart that I send you this message with further bad news.  Marquis, interred in the Baumann Parahuman Containment Center, confided to another inmate that he fears for his daughter’s life.  I have checked the facts to the best of my ability, and the details I have been able to dig up match with his story.  I must warn you that Allfather may have arranged for Amy Dallon to be murdered at some future date, in revenge for his own daughter’s death at Marquis’ hands.

Dragon.

Really.

Bitch.

WHY? Allfather is dead. Kaisar is dead. What made you think that this threat is at all likely to be borne out?!

She had to stop reading there.  The paper had been on Carol’s bedside table, and Amy had found it while collecting a change of clothes for Mark a week ago.  Carol had probably been reading it to him late the previous night, and maybe forgot to put it away due to a mixture of exhaustion and the distractions that came with waking up each morning to a disabled husband and a ten-year career in jeopardy.

This is Carol. Fuck her. She left it out on purpose.

(Okay, probably not, but remember This Is A Carol Dallon Hate Blog)

Marquis had been an aspiring crime lord in the bad old days of Brockton Bay.  It had been a time when the villains had been flocking to the city to profit off the booming tech and banking sectors, to recruit mooks and henchmen from the city’s unemployed dockworkers.  It had been an era when the heroes hadn’t been properly established, and the villains had been confident enough that some didn’t give a second thought to murdering any heroes who got in their way.  Marquis included. The bad old days were how Carol and Mark referred to that time.  There were more heroes now, and there was more balance between the good guys and the bad, but things were arguably worse now.  Everything was in shambles. Marquis had been an osteokinetic.  A manipulator of both his own bone and, provided some was exposed, the bones of his enemies.  He’d been notorious enough that she’d heard about him despite the fact that he’d been arrested more than a decade ago, that the city and the public had remembered him.  He’d lived in the outskirts of the city, residing in a large house in the woods, just beneath the mountains.

If Amy wasn't quite so neurotic, and hadn't been gifted by so many fucking issues by Carol, Marquis being her dad shouldn't have bothered her this much.

Because yes, villain. Yes, evil. But also - less evil than the Teeth. Less evil than E88. Less evil than Galvante. He was notorious. He did do a lot of bad things. But of all the options that were likely, he's... the best one? Unironically, any of the alternatives of that era would have been worse.

It's kind of hilarious, in an infuriating way, she melts down so much over the news that the best behaved of Brockton Bay's old class of villains is her dad. And it's because Carol gave her this stark, black and white 'Criminal is a state of being, not defined by choice' mindset.

So convinced that she's a monster already, between her power, her feelings for Vicky and Mommy dearest, this just feels like proof.

To all reports, the man had been heartless, callous.  Wasn’t she?  She couldn’t bring herself to care anymore when she went to the hospitals to heal the injured and sick.  It was a chore, something she made herself do because people wouldn’t understand if she stopped.  There were only so many people she could heal before she became desensitized to it.

Because you became inured to it, Amy! You did care once! Don't do this to yourself!

*shakes Amy by the shoulders* PLEASE!

Not hard to pull the pieces together.  She could remember how quickly Neil had dropped the subject when he realized she was listening.  He hadn’t outright said that they’d caught Marquis, but she could imagine that the weaknesses that Neil had been outlining had been what they’d used.  Send Lady Photon, Brandish and Fleur against the man.  Add the fact that Amy had been there, a toddler, and Marquis had been too concerned about collateral damage to go all out.

Toddler? Wait, I thought Amy was six?

Oh, right, #Wildbowsucksattime

But yeah. Let's attack the supervillain in his own home and let his daughter get caught in the crossfire! Oh, you didn't know about her? And if you'd killed her, that would have mattered not at all.

The slight hurt more than she’d expected.  It wasn’t like it was something new.  It had been going on for weeks.  And it was fully deserved.

No. It really isn't. Fuck you Victoria. Amy has very good, if probably misguided, reasons for not doing brains. Leaving aside the fact of her fears of her power and stuff, messing with brains is no simple prospect. Even if she could heal him, there's no guarantee it's Mark again. And if she did heal him and he came out not Mark, not the Mark they knew, who the fuck do you think gets the blame for that from Carol?

Sure as shit not you, Vicky!

Like, yes, Back in Interlude 2, we get a bit of foreshadowing, Vicky's belief that Amy does need to learn to do brains, needs to accept she may need to do them. And Vicky was right then. But she has no right to get angry at Amy, to act like what Amy is doing by refusing to break her rule, is doing something wrong. Yes, I wish Amy would do this. I wish Amy would be willing to break her rule, just a little, to help Mark.

But pressuring Amy like this, getting upset with her, guilting her - fuck you, Vicky. Fuck you.

Again, I feel like this is the sort of thing we needed to see sooner.

It was all falling apart.  This family had never fully accepted her.  Being in the midst of a family that all worked together, it was hard to preserve secrets.  Amy had learned a few years ago, overhearing a conversation between Carol and Aunt Sarah, that Carol had initially refused to take her in.  Her adoptive mother had only accepted in the end because she’d had a job and Aunt Sarah didn’t.  One kid to Aunt Sarah’s two.  When she’d taken Amy in, it hadn’t been out of love or caring, but grudging obligation and a sense of duty.

Hm. And maybe, just maybe, that's why Amy feels so obligated to burn herself out by constantly healing. Maybe, just maybe.

Jesus christ, I will be forever amazed that Wildbow created a character that is the fucking PLATONIC IDEAL of a Woobifiable character and then had the gall to be surprised people were woobifying her.

Man just never has understood how fandom works.

Victoria was appalled, seething with anger, brimming with resentment, because Amy couldn’t, wouldn’t, heal their father. They’d fought, and Amy hadn’t been able to defend her position, 

I find that very hard to believe. it's not hard to defend 'doing brains is a very bad idea'.

Then again, Amy is under insane stress and pressure and people aren't very good at reasoning through shit under pressure.

Again, I really feel like this needed to be spaced out better. Maybe 11h being the first Amy POV is fair, I can see why he'd do that, but these details about Mark, at least? That needed to come out sooner. It's just -

Too much is being packed in here. Too much.

The letter.  Carol wasn’t angry in the same way Victoria was.  What Amy felt from her ‘mother’ was a chill.  She knew that she was only justifying the darker suspicions Carol had harbored towards her since she was first brought into the family.  It was doubly crushing now, because Amy knew about Marquis.  Amy knew that Carol was thinking the same thing she was. Marquis was one of the organized killers.  He had his rules, he had his code, and so did Amy.  Amy wouldn’t use her power to affect people’s minds.  Like father, like daughter.

I mean, a lot of this is just Amy's own neuroses working against her, but seriously, people who act like Carol isn't the source of virtually every one of Amy's problems baffle me. People don't think like this without a reason. Carol's behavior gave her reasons to think like this.

A girl stood in the living room, five or so years younger than Amy.  Her blond hair had been curled into ringlets with painstaking care, but the rest of her was unkempt, filthy.  She stared at Mark, who was struggling and failing to stand from the couch.

Fucking Bonesaw.

Normally I like to call people by their names, rather than dignify them with their stupid cape names, though it depends, but no. Bonesaw doesn't get a name. Fuck her. I hate Bonesaw. Unfair? A little, yeah. She's a victim, a worse victim than nearly anyone else in Worm, arguably.

I just don't care.

Amy, kill her. Kill her right here. Right now.

“Yes!  I can’t even begin to tell you how hard it was.  I mean, I had to conduct the operation from a remote location, using robots, because I would lose my Tinker powers if I got too close to the big lug.  And I had to fit their bodies and nervous systems together so that they could use their powers without messing up the other.”

Oh, my heart bleeds for you, Bonebitch. Tell us all about how hard it was to make a monstrous freak of nature! As if you and your little brain parasite (shard) didn't love every psychopathic second of it.

Bonesaw smiled.  “I thought you’d appreciate this more than anyone.” “Appreciate this.” “You’re the only other person who works with meat.  I mean, we’re different in some ways, but we’re also really similar, aren’t we?  You manipulate people’s biology, and I tinker with it.  The human body’s only a really intricate, wet machine, isn’t it?”

I can honestly only laugh at the level of delusion this horrible little girl possesses. Not funny laugh, just... what the fuck else is there to do laugh.

“That’s good!”  Bonesaw smiled at Amy, “I knew we’d make a good team!” “Team?”  What could she say or do to escape?  Failing that, was there anything she could use to kill herself, so Bonesaw couldn’t get her hands on them, turn them into something like those things?  In the worst case scenario, she could use her power on Mark before finishing herself off.

Alternate universe where Bonesaw never gets it into her head that Amy should be her buddy.

Alternate universe where Bonesaw gets killed in a freak accident involving a frozen turkey falling from a great height at high velocities and squashing her.

Alternate universe where Bonesaw dies messily and bloodily and her body burns in a fucking nuclear fire.

“Language!”  Bonesaw admonished, with surprising fierceness.

I...I can't take this seriously.

I hate Bonesaw, for what she does to Amy, for how her fucking delusions lead to Amy's life being destroyed, but again, she's not actually that compelling. She's just...

Sick and twisted and...

Fucking annoying.

'Language'. Right. She really cares that much about it. Because Jack Slash really cares that much.

“Jack’s taken me on as his protegé.  Teaching me the finer points of being an artist. 

Artist? Artist? Artist? Artist? ARTIST?

My GOD is Jack Slash pretentious.

Actually, dare I say it?

Jack Slash is Edgy.

(What. I need to find something to laugh at as I read this or I'll combust with how much I hate Bonesaw right now)

(I genuinely don't understand fics that want to imagine some Amy & Bonesaw friendship, or Amy and 'Riley' or whatever, in some universe where Bonesaw does what she does to Amy and then survives to be redeemed or something. Even if Amy went evil and joined S9, I can't imagine her gleefully embracing Bonesaw's delusions. an S9 Amy probably murders Bonesaw at the first opportunity.)

and they’re kind of family.  I want you in my family, Amy Dallon.”

And I want to enter this work of fiction, grab you, and string you up by your entrails.

But we can't always get what we want, Bonebitch.

Amy looked at her hand.  She’d just taken a life.  A mercy, most probably, but she’d killed.  Something she had promised herself she would never do. She shivered.  It had been so easy.  Was this what it was like for her father?  Had she just taken one more step toward being like him?

See, and now this is where the problem with rigid moral codes hits. When they don't have any flexibility, for situations like this, when you build this hard, solid edifice and expect it to hold up against everything...

It's strong, sure, but it's brittle. And when you, like Amy, pin your entire sense of yourself, your entire sense of being a good person, on a few rigid codes, you absolutely will shatter.

Amy absolutely shouldn't have built herself such an inflexible moral edifice. If the girl had had any sort of actual therapy, she might not have. If she'd had a mother that wasn't Carol, she might not have.

But she did.

And it shattered.

Again... I just don't understand Wildbow, and Ward. Slaughterhouse Nine, and the role they played in destroying Amy's psyche and sense of herself and sense of morality barely shows up in the text, because god forbid we allow context to get in the way of his weird attempt at a rape culture metaphor or whatever the fuck he was on.

“Ready to join?” Bonesaw asked, looking for all the world like a puppy when her master had the leash out, ready for a walk.  Eager, brimming with excitement.

And the funny part is that this useless waste of carbon atoms actually thinks that's all that's needed.

and then we could make one superperson out of a hundred capes, and all of the powers would be full strength because you helped and we could use it to stop one of the Endbringers,

Oh fuck off Bonesaw. You wouldn't dare do anything so interesting as use your creations to fight an Endbringer. and even if you were capable of mustering enough vision for that, Jacky McEdgelord would hardly let you do something so creative.

“No,” Amy said.  Then, just to make it clear, she added, “No, it’s not going to happen.  I won’t join you.” “You will!  You have to!” “No.” “I have to do like Jack said.  He said I won’t be a true genius until I’ve figured out how to get inside people’s heads.” “Maybe- Maybe you won’t be inside my head until you realize there’s no way I’m going to join the Slaughterhouse Nine.”

You know, I'm not really interested in 'Amy goes off the rails level evil' fics, but you know what? Let's have one of those. Bonesaw breaks Amy and then Amy kills her and the rest of Slaughterhouse Nine because why the fuck would she hang out with them? If Amy really stopped caring and wanted to go evil, there's still no reason for her to be so BORING as to join Uselesshouse Nine

“I’m doing you a favor, really!”  Bonesaw raised her voice to be heard over the screams.  “You’ll thank me!”

I mean, I hate Bonesaw, I hate her with the heat of a million suns. And I don't hate any of the other members of S9 because again, BORING.

So in that sense, Bonesaw is a compelling villain.

But she's also boring, because she's just...

This.

Nothing interesting about what she's doing. Torture and hybrid monsters and plagues and murder just for the sake of it. She learns all this shit about powers and does nothing with it.

I hate her so much not because she's compelling in her own right, but because I'm so obsessively into Amy as a character, and so desperately want her to be happy.

Everything else in the world seemed to drop away.  She pressed her forehead to his.  Everything biological was shaped in some way by what it had grown from and what had come before.  Rebuilding the damaged parts was a matter of tracing everything backwards.  Some of the brain was impossible to restore to what it had once been, in the most damaged areas or places where it was the newest growths that were gone, but she could check everything in the surrounding area, use process of elimination and context to figure out what the damaged areas had tied to. She felt tears in her eyes.  She had told herself she would heal him and then leave the Dallon household.  Actually doing this, fixing him, taking that plunge, she knew she would probably never have found the courage if she hadn’t been pushed into it. It wasn’t that she was afraid to get something wrong.  No.  Even as complicated as the mind was, she’d always known she could manage it.  No, it was what came after that scared her more than anything.  Just like finding out about Marquis, it was the opening of a door she desperately wanted to keep shut.

Again. Platonic ideal of a woobifiable character.

I just

I just don't get so many people.

This this -

Who the fuck reacts to 'I'm saving my dad from a serial killer by healing his brain' with 'I need to run away from home as soon as I'm done?'

Someone who desperately doesn't want to do bad things. Who is terrified of themselves. Who has more baggage than an airport and more issues than a Hudson News.

Someone who is intensely fucked up, and knows it and doesn't know what to do about it.

Certainly not someone who has just been... what, we're supposed to believe she was just waiting for the opportunity to mess with Vicky's brain? The excuse? That what she does to Vicky was the real her the whole time?

If I somehow had enough money to convince Wildbow to sell all the legal rights to all of the Wormverse, nuking Ward from existence across the Internet would be step 0. Also nuking r/parahumans.

The tagline of the Wormverse may as well be 'creating compelling characters the author somehow doesn't understand since 2011. Now with bonus queerphobia and racism!'

Her face burned with shame.  She made her way to her room and began packing her things into a gym bag.  Clothes, toiletries, and other things, mementos.  A small scrapbook, a memory card filled with pictures of her, her cousins and her sister.  She found a pad of post-it notes and scribbled out a few words. I’m sorry it took me so long to help Mark. Good bye.  I love you all, Amy. She wouldn’t be coming back. Amy opened her bedroom window and climbed out, pulling the bag out behind her.

Amy Please, fucking hell just - no.

Don't.

Please.

Don't FUCKING DO THIS!

“We could get you a therapist.  I mean, Mom was setting aside money for Dad’s care, we could use that to give you someone to talk to.” “I… a therapist wouldn’t be able to help.”

Yes, yes it could.

But she's so convinced, so sure there's no coming back from it.

“Fuck that!  I’m not about to let you walk away!”  Victoria floated closer, reaching out. “Don’t touch me,” Amy warned her sister.

It's hard to say. We don't see them just... existing in normal circumstances. Not in Worm. We don't know what their life was like before it all collapses.

But it's really hard to not look at... everything Victoria says and does, from Interlude 2, and this, and the fact that she does end up touching Amy despite the 'don't touch' and...

I'm pretty sure Vicky has a long history of ignoring or pushing Amy's boundaries. Of touching her when Amy doesn't want to be touched. Dragging her on those double dates she manifestly doesn't want to go on. Pushing her to keep healing all those people she nearly kills to cover up her crimes. Constantly pushing Amy to heal Mark.

And Amy, because she was probably too afraid to have boundaries when she first moved into the Dallon household, and then too used to letting Vicky get away with it, and then Vicky was her only source of stability and affection so of course Amy lets her get away with it.

And then she falls in love with Vicky and the idea of saying no to her becomes a lot harder.

And Vicky, of course, just sees that Amy's boundaries aren't really boundaries. She just needs to push a little and her sister's totally cool with whatever. Amy loves her. She loves Amy. Boundaries are what now?

(I say this with love, I really do, but I'm pretty sure Vicky isn't the most respectful of boundaries in general. Not intentionally, just... you know, by accident, a lot).

Vicky does not deserve what happens to her next, or later. Again, shouldn't need to say it, but this fucking fandom.

But she absolutely should have listened when Amy said 'no!' Time and again.

No is always a complete fucking sentence.

“Idiot,” Victoria grabbed her sister by the shirt collar and pulled her into a painfully tight hug. “Don’t,” Amy moaned into her sister’s shoulder. “All of this?  We’ll work it out.  As a family.  And if your idea of family means it’s just you and me, then we’ll work it out together, just the two of us.”

A perfect storm of the worst possible fucking thing to say when you're already shattering her boundaries.

All it took was one moment of weakness, and she was weak.  At the end of her rope, desperately lonely, haunted by her father’s shadow, her shame at being unwilling and unable to help Mark until now, the idea that one of the Slaughterhouse Nine thought she belonged with them? She was losing everything so quickly.  Victoria was all she had, and it was the choice between abandoning that for everyone’s good and keeping Victoria close. She felt Victoria’s body more acutely than she felt her own.  Every heartbeat, every cell brimming with life. Like a flame at the end of a long fuse, leading to a stick of dynamite, her power traveled from the side of Victoria’s neck to her brain.  It was barely a conscious action on Amy’s part.

Again it's so weird that Wildbow can write this, and then... not get it? Powers work on thoughts. Powers work on errant impulses and yes, you can restrain your thoughts, prevent them to become action, but intrusive thoughts are a thing, and it really isn't always easy to hold them back, especially in the state she's in, the state he put her in, with the way powers work, the way he decided powers work...

The man builds this elaborate device made of dozens of checkov's guns and then insists, years later, he never fired a single one of them.

The plain fucking TEXT makes it clear, christ on a fucking bike.

The magnitude of what she’d just done hit her with a suddenness and pain she likened to a bullet to the chest.  “Oh god.  Please, let me undo it.” She reached out, but Victoria stepped back. “What the hell did you do?” Victoria asked, her eyes wide, “I felt something.  I feel something.  You’ve used your power on me before, but not like this.  I- You changed the way I think.  More than that.” Tears welled at the corners of Amy’s eyes.  “Please.  This is what I was afraid of.  Let me undo it.  Let me fix it and leave, and you can go back to Mark and Carol and you three can be a family, and-”

If we're supposed to believe this was a deliberate, willing, fully conscious choice by her (which is what Wildbow and his Church insist is what 'barely a conscious action' means here), then this makes no sense.

But of course, Why would Wildbow care about a coherent narrative? Why would his Church? They have Words of God! Those matter more than the fucking TEXT.

“You have to understand, for so long, you were all I had.  I was so desperately lonely, and that was at the same time I was starting to worry about my dad.  I got fucked up, my feelings got muddled somewhere along the line, and it’s like… maybe because you were safe, because you were always there.” “You have feelings for me,” Victoria answered.  She couldn’t keep the disgust out of her voice, she didn’t even try.  “That’s what Tattletale was using as leverage, wasn’t it?”

Let's circle back to something I said earlier -

This needed to be revealed sooner, to us, the reader. Or... something.

Revealing all this, all at once, all in one chapter?

There's just too much going on here.

Amy found out Marquis is her dad

we find out about Mark

we find out about Vicky pressuring Amy to heal Mark

Bonesaw and all her shit

Amy runs away

Vicky finds her

Vicky finds out about Marquis

Amy changes Vicky and the full story of Amy's feelings come out and it's just...

Worm suffers from too much happening in quick succession in general, but man this Interlude is the fucking textbook case.

“Please.  Let me fix it.  Then I’ll leave.  You’ll never have to see me again.” “What in the world makes you think I’d let you use your power on me again!?”  Victoria shouted, taking to the air, out of reach.  “Who knows what you’re going to do to me!?”

Okay, so like...

I do get this, I really do. You just had your entire sense of... everything shattered, with regards to how you see your Sister, and you're under a lot of stress too but -

You've known and trusted your sister for years. You just fucking said it. She's explicitly saying she didn't mean to, that this isn't something she wanted to do...

I mean, I imagine if not for... everything that's about to happen, Vicky might calm down in a few days and give Amy a chance to fix this. I'd like to believe that anyway.

I get it. I do. I don't... I don't blame Vicky for this, but...

Still. Wrong choice, Glory Girl.

Victoria shook her head slowly, then scoffed.  “Good job, Amy.  You just did an excellent job of taking every instance of me defending you, every instance of my giving you the benefit of a doubt, and proving me fucking wrong.  You were worried about being as fucked up as your dad?  Congratulations, I’m pretty goddamn sure you just surpassed the man.”

Jesus christ, Vicky.

Again. Heat of the moment. You're furious.

But like...

If she was surpassing him, she'd have changed your brain more. To make you like it. You're supposed to be smart. Be smart.

---

Well.

Interlude 11h. The only Interlude really worth reading for this Arc, and jesus fucking christ I'm emotionally exhausted. My own fault, but fucking fuckfuckfuckfuck.

[sirenlulls]

spin the bottle → grease: rise of the pink ladies preferences

summary — spin the bottle is all fun and games until your crush moves to spin...

written for this request

characters — jane, olivia, cynthia, richie, gil, potato

JANE FACCIANO

. poor girl didn't want to play to begin with but ESPECIALLY not now

. she looks so nervous when it's your turn and nobody knows why 😭 they're like, ".....you good, girl?" and she's like, "YEAH! great! perfect, even!" okay girl....

. i feel like it would be the worst for her if your spin landed on a t-bird because even if you've showed no prior interest to them she'd be like "oh but they're friends i can see them together :("

. overdramatic girlie can't see the way you're looking at her like you wanted the bottle to land on her instead

. definitely looked away when you kissed the guy

. not in a way to gain attention or anything, probably just 'fixing' her nails or something

. would definitely interrogate you later on in the night — "so.... how was the kiss? do you like him? do you love him? was it good?"

. kiss her to shut her up and things will be perfect

OLIVIA VALDOVINOS

. she's not used to being a jealous person so she's very confused and a bit overwhelmed when it's your turn to spin and she feels like throwing the bottle at somebody's head

. she'd feel bad for you too because she can feel your anxiety 😭

. poor babygirl just wants to pick you up and take you on a nice lil date

. would give the guy your bottle lands on such a death stare

. ESPECIALLY IF ITS RICHIE

. to be fair neither you or richie want to kiss eachother with him liking jane and you liking his sister 💀

. but you guys are close friends anyway so the little peck isn't awkward between you

. someone would probs be like "too short, doesn't count!" but shut up really quick when richie gives them a look

. put your pinkie over olivias when you got back to sit with her and everything will be okay 😊

CYNTHIA ZDUNOWSKI

. lowkey sour even though she's the one who suggested the game in the first place 😭

. it didn't really register to her that you'd have to spin too until it was your turn

. "you don't have to if you don't want to." said to you and someone else in the circle yelling back that she forced them to spin 💀

. you're her exception xo

. but you spun anyway so she was already in a mood and it only got worse when it landed directly on some guy in your english class who was visibly in love with you

. she's definitely scoffing and rolling her eyes. gets such a strange look from nancy

. you can feel the tension radiating from cynthia and you don't even really like the guy (bless his heart) so it's a quick little 5 second peck and a smile from you and then it's over

. she's 100% got a little smug smile when the guy clearly wanted to kiss you for longer, but you pulled away

. gets suspiciously more clingy with you for the rest of the night, but if anyone says anything about it, she's like, "im drunk shhhhhhh" and she's had, like, one beer 🧍‍♀️

RICHIE VALDOVINOS

. he did not want to play. like at all.

. because he knew that a) he'd probably have to kiss someone else and because he's not a little boy, he knows that trying to make you like him by making you jealous isn't gonna work, and b) he'd probably have to see you kiss someone else. absolutely not

. it would be his worst nightmare if your spin landed on a soc

. he would be in a mood for the rest of the night

. or at least until his spin where he got lucky and landed on you

. a smug little side eye to the soc you kissed as he goes closer to you

. pink ladies and t-birds rolling their eyes like "finally 🥱🙄"

. truly sick and tired of the tension between you two

. the soc you kissed looking so uncomfortable because with him it was a stiff little peck and you're fully gripping richie's face 💀

. he likes the game now <3

. drove you home after the party for the chance to kiss you again

. ended up staying the night xx

GIL RIZZO

. easily the best at hiding how much he hates it

. but rest assured, no matter how chill and fun-loving he looks, he is enraged when your spin lands on one of your thespian friends

. poor baby doesn't know that it's really funny for you both because the guy is gay 😭

. so when he sees you kiss him with no tension and a smile on your face he's like "oh......"

. but you keep looking at him and smiling?? he's so confused??

. maybe he's not as good at hiding his longing as he thought...

. he definitely wasn't.

. you saw the death stares and scowls

. you were fed up!!

. like stop being a brooding baby and kiss me already!!! please!!!!

. he will eventually xx

. he definitely tried to kiss you after the game but you guys got cockblocked by jane accidentally because she burst into the room you two were in because she needed to talk to you

. jane facciano, the hot girl mood killer xoxo

. some other night maybe 💔

POTATO

. he played purely for the chance to kiss you

. so when the bottle landed directly between him and a guy who openly liked you, he was fully prepared to see you kiss the other guy

. but then you tapped his hand and suddenly you were right in front of him and he was trying (and failing) to hide how excited he was

. longer than any of the other kisses

. wolf whistles left right and centre

. very blushy very awkward very cute

. a small little "that was nice" that only you could hear when you pulled away

. ego boosted fr but trying to not look like an asshole

. definitely went with you to the kitchen after the game and you two talked about it and you gave him another little kiss <3

. nancy and cynthia walked in on you while they were trying to get some drinks and immediately ran off to tell the pink ladies and t-birds

. getting hard-core interrogated by the two gangs on the way out and he's a smiley little mess beside you and you're like "yeah he's my silly little bf now <3"

[derangedfujoshi]

Just finished watching s3 of Teen Wolf so here's some thoughts:

THE STETER "help me" HOSPITAL SCENE WHERE PETER LOOKS SO CONFUSED WAAAAHHH

On that note THE STETER BUTT TOUCH!!

My god I love Noah Stilinski best dad award

Isaac is really growing on me

R.I.P. Allison you were ok ig I sobbed for your father tho, Chris babygirl you did NOT deserve that added trauma

Speaking of Chris the cherek was OFF THE CHARTS this season I loved it the CHRIS TIED UP IN A CHAIR SCENE?? OOF

I'm also extremely sad for the twins like :( redemption through death isn't my fave at all and also they were funny... I know only Aiden died but I have a feeling we won't be seeing Ethan ever again so it's as if he died too rekt

I knew about Peter and Malia so that wasn't a shocker

You know what was a shocker in NEGATIVE? The fucking happening between Stiles and Malia and not because I ship steter but because?? They?? Barely spoke to each other and the writers just??? Made them fuck???? Was that necessary? Was it plot relevant? Was it only to make Stiles fuck someone since he was the only virgin one left?? Odd choice, did not like it -100/10

I also knew about Allison's alleged dead aunt coming back as a... Werejaguar? I think? Bitch can't stay dead UGH

Backtracking a bit THE RAVE SCENE WHERE STILES GETS KISSED BY THAT GIRL AND HE GOES "don't you like girls?" "yeah I do, don't you?" "yes of course I love them... So, you like boys too?" "Yeah, do you?" AND HE JUST STOPS AND STARES INTO THE VOID PONDERING IT?? HELLO????? BISEXUAL STILES REAL??

Anyway Lydia my beloved stop dating hot blonde guys they all end up dead or gone. I know she'll end up dating stiles and there's a reason I have that shiptag blocked ok can the writers let her have a fucking male friend? Idk let her kiss a girl she's a Banshee she deserves that I think.

Scott is... Better, ig than in the previous seasons. The whole True Alpha thing was SO gary stue but pop off ok it was fun and at least he's a slighter better friend now, although he keeps on following pussy around while something bad is happening like CAMOOON

Kira is nice, can't have it against her for her shitty tastes in boyfriend material cause she's funny pretty kind strong also I love myself some Japanese mythology so I welcome this new addition to the team

All in all I really enjoyed this season, I binged it in like, three days and I loved ALL the Stiles centric moments with the Nogitsune, although I feel there could've been something MORE, like going deeper into WHY Stiles of all people and letting us see more of the internal turmoil. But that's just me loving to inflict some sweet sweet desperation and torture on my faves, although I did tear up a bit when they thought he had the same illness as his mother like OOF low blow.

Anyway insane how anything Stiles related always circles back to Peter somehow, really makes you think 🤔

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon (Modern Au) - Error 404 Brain Not Found: Bonus Scene - Part 10

Jaskier wandered the aisles of the grocery store, his third of the grocery list in hand. He had managed to convince Yennefer that the supply run would go faster if they split up.

Yennefer hadn't been too thrilled about the idea of Jaskier running around loose by himself, but they were trying to get to Kaer Morhen to visit Vesemir and Peepers, and Jaskier's suggestion had actually been logical.

Plus, she just couldn't say no. Not when he had looked at her with those puppy eyes, and turned up the charm level. And it didn't help that he'd gotten his hair cut and had gone from the Sexy Long Hair, back to the short style Yennefer called his Babygirl Hair.

They joined the line for the register, adding a few drinks and snacks to their basket while they waited.

Geralt was standing in line, hiding in his ratty Emotional Support hoodie, when he felt Jaskier nudge him. He turned to see the bard holding up two plastic packages and smiling mischieviously.

Giant Stickly Hands

Geralt gave him a slight smile in return, and turned around to distract Yennefer so Jaskier could slip them in amongst the other items.

Several minutes later, and they were back on the road.

Jaskier sat in the front passenger's seat and opened the Giant Sticky Hand. He swung it around, slapping it on random surfaces as he got a feel for it. He slapped it against the inside of the windshield a few times, giggling at the sound it made.

He saw Geralt glancing longingly at the novelty toy while trying to keep his attention on the road.

Jaskier handed him his sticky hand, and opened the other one. Yennefer felt the van start swerving slightly and looked up to see the two idiots swinging giant sticky hands at each other.

"Jaskier, stop distracting him! Geralt, keep your d*mn eyes on the road! Melitele, you two tw*ts are going to cause an accident!"

The sticky hands disappeared. Until they stopped for lunch and a chance to stretch their legs.

Yennefer almost had a coniption when she found out Jaskier and Geralt had brought their giant sticky hands into the restauraunt. Geralt had come back to their booth after getting his drink, and Jaskier hand swung his arm and snapped the sticky hand right on Geralt's a**.

Geralt had pulled out his sticky hand and swung it at Jaskier. He missed, and it splatted on the acrylic booth divider next to Jaskier's head.

"You brought those d*mned thing in here? " Yennefer had whispered fiercely to them. "Put them away!" Gods, why did they always have to embarrass her in public? People were already staring!

Jaskier responded to her demand by being the menace that he was, and using the sticky hand to steal her paper napkin.

He and Geralt had started snuffling and snorting quietly, trying to hold back the laughter as Yennefer sat across from them, fuming in silent embarassment. The sticky hands yo-yo'ed in random directions as Geralt and Jaskier completely disregarded the death glare Yennefer was giving them.

Yennefer tried to ignore them and find her happy place so she could at least eat. She contemplated getting up and leaving both their a**es here; just walking out and using her magic to start the van and drive away. It would serve them right.

Geralt's sticky hand slapped right over Jaskier's mouth as he opened it to spoon his food into it. He made a humorous sound and pulled the sticky hand off, whisper laughing, "You f**ker!"

Geralt grinned smugly, then snuffled and almost spat out his onion rings when Jaskier's sticky hand landed in his lap. "B**stard!"

Yennefer almost laughed when, completely by accident, they slapped each other in the face at the same time.

Geralt looked at Jaskier

Jaskier looked at Geralt

The hands started rapidly flying in random directions, accompanied by a symphony of whispered noises.

Yennefer finally had to put her foot down after a sticky hand landed in her food.

She used their mental link and her Mom Voice. "Put those d*mned things away right f***ing now!"

Jaskier and Geralt both jumped at the sharp mental tone. It was pure wrath and the promise of swift and instant consequences if it was not obeyed.

But Jaskier, emboldened by the fact that they were in public, decided to F**k Around and Find Out.

"Make me!" he replied playfully, only to double over seconds later as Yennefer shoved the toe of her dress shoe into his crotch.

"F**k, my baws!" he whisper wheezed breathlessly.

Geralt immediately put his sticky hand away and focused on what was left of his meal. He did not want a foot to the balls too.

The rest of the meal was uneventful aside from Jaskier blowing his straw papers and throwing wadded up paper napkins at her.

Yennefer, unfortunately, had to stand in line, waiting to pay, while Geralt and Jaskier continued their Giant Sticky Hand fight.

Yennefer did her best to pretend like the two grown men behind her weren't acting like two feral 5 year olds. She was impressed with the register attendant's ability to keep a straight face and stay focused.

Once the bill had been settled, Yennefer quickly herded Geralt and Jaskier outside, where she immediately took each of them by an ear and strode determinedly to the van.

Geralt and Jaskier shuffled along beside her, bent over awkwardly and making various noises of discomfort.

"You embarrass me," she growled darkly, "And I will embarrass the ever living h*ll out of you!"

The few children in the parking lot moved closer to their parents and were suddenly very well behaved. They knew an angry Mum when they saw one. And they didn't want their Mum to get any ideas.

There were more than a few whispered questions of "Mum, why's that lady got those men by the ear?" And the simple reply of, "Because they weren't behaving, love".

Geralt and Jaskier did the Awkward Walk of Shame all the way to Roach.

Never had Geralt regretted his habit of parking far away from everyone more in his life.

Yennefer let them go when they reached the van, and Geralt immediately dug his keys out of his pocket and rushed to get out of the public eye.

Jaskier immediately opened his mouth because he had zero sense of self-preservation.

"What the hell, Yen, I-!" Jaskier began in righteous indignation, only to choke back the rest of what he was going to say when he saw the look on Yennefer's face as she snarled, biting out each word.

"Get. In. The. F***ing. Van. Julian."

"Yesma'am!"

They drove in silence for a while to give ruffled feathers time to settle.

Yennefer was sitting on the bed in the back, reading that book Madeleine had recommended when something smacked her on the side of the face. She yelped in surprise and dropped her book , swiping at her face.

Giant Sticky Hand.

Unbelievable.

"You kn*b head!" she snarled.

"That's for kicking me in the fork!" Jaskier laughed, then squealed, dropped the stickly hand, and started trying to get away from Yennefer.

"Hey, sit down back there!" Geralt snapped. He had to reduce his speed and do some counter steering when the van started rocking as Yennefer chased Jaskier around the inside of the van.

"Come here, you little sh*t!" Yennefer hollered, grabbing at the bard.

Jaskier was alternately laughing and gibbering as he dodged and jinked, weaved and twisted, trying to stay away from the angry witch.

Yennefer tripped him, and he fell face first in the gap betwixt the front seats. She was on him in a flash, smacking the back of his head, then ruthlessly pinching the first a**cheek she could reach.

Jaskier gave a muffled yelp and twisted onto his back, hands holding his nose. Yennefer's tone went from incensed, to worried.

"Oh, f**k! Are you alright?"

Jaskier didn't answer, he just kept groaning and holding his nose.

"Jaskier!"

"Is he alright?" Geralt inquired, trying to watch the road.

Jaskier got to his feet and started stumbling towards the bed, Yennefer following behind him.

"Jaskier! Julek! Julek, let me see!"

Jaskier turned around and slowly started moving his hands. Yennefer held her breath, guilt coiling in her chest as he moved his hands and revealed...

...his extended middle finger.

"You jacka**!" Yennefer hollered.

Geralt had to pull the van over and go save Jaskier as hands started flying.

[k0k1ch1111]

Death puzzles !!!!

quote log from a fic I rlly am obsessed with rn

“Yeah, I lied! My parents are actually in Russia,” Kokichi told him gleefully, his eyes narrowed at the block he was very carefully wiggling free from the tower. “I haven’t seen them in years since I’m actually forbidden from entering Russia.”That was probably a lie, but Shuichi was curious how far this story went. “...why?”“I ran for president,” his classmate sighed mournfully. “Now I can never reunite with my family.”

If you’re neither, then congratulations, I think.

"Hmm, yeah… that’s too sweet,” Kokichi hummed thoughtfully, seeming to see an entirely different problem than he did. “How about babygirl?” “And I am stopping this conversation here,” Shuichi decided, rolling onto his side away from his classmate. “Goodnight, Kokichi.”

he had always had a bit of a soft spot for physical comfort. Maybe his parents didn’t hug him enough or something.

Shuichi got to have a full night of sleep full of peace and ignorance while Kokichi got to die of heatstroke in the night. Overall, it was a pretty fair deal in his books.

The second grave he dug up was also incorrect, he noted in despair. Also, he almost got whiplash seeing what looked like a girl in the coffin, and he didn’t even want to think about the implications of what the gravestone meant if this kid was what he thought they were. That was an absolute nightmare scenario for Shuichi himself, and he couldn’t imagine being killed over it…

Our bathroom’s gonna look like a crime scene,” Kokichi groaned, throwing his head back and letting it droop to the side. “Once my hands are cleaned up, I’m dealing with yours. You look like you’re about to cry.”I am about to cry, he thought depressingly.

This guy had bounced from borderline manic to the childish, game-loving prankster he had come to know in the Objective Room.

What's there to talk about?” asked Kokichi, thankfully lowering the gun. “It’s like Monokuma said! It’s a puzzle of luck. Either I die and permanently traumatize you for the rest of your probably very short life, or I’m totally fine. Seems like pretty even odds to me.

”I’m glad you asked!” A list appeared on the screen next to Monokuma, which he read out. “Shooting yourself with just one dummy bullet will earn you entertainment for the Objective Room. Watching you two argue about the earth being flat killed some of my brain cells, so I figured that you could do with some books or board games or something.”

"I didn’t know I was that still of a sleeper…” Shuichi admitted sheepishly. “Do I really look that bad…?” “Yes,” replied Kokichi without hesitation. “Yes, you do. Watching you sleep makes me want to spontaneously buy a coffin for you, flowers and everything.” “You watch me sleep?”The room went deathly quiet as the two of them stared blankly at each other.

“Not sure.” Kokichi shrugged, sitting on the pulled out chair and crossing one leg over the other. “You were sleeping for a reaaaally long time though. Why do you sleep like you’re a child from the 1300s dying of the plague?”

He decided that it was better to just let Kokichi get all of the Kokichi-isms out of his system before asking about the puzzles.

I haven't updated this in like. Many chapters oopsiesss

I won’t be able to do it myself… s-so please, Kokichi. Let’s survive this together.”“...we are so fucked up,” Kokichi whispered with a drastic shudder.

Maybe they had left for a vacation? That was okay, he supposed– they worked hard enough. Even organs deserved a vacation… little hard workers. So noble.

He briefly wondered why his hand wasn’t closing around anything.And that’s when he finally remembered, oh, right. That’s gone.

“So you have synesthesia,” Maki concluded.The minute those words left her mouth, Himiko broke out into a sweat, casting her eyes downward. “N-No… it’s my magic.”

It’s not that bad,” he choked out. “K-Kokichi took most of the beatings, even when he didn’t have to. I’m fine…”He didn’t even have to look up to see Hajime’s skeptical expression. “Shuichi, your hand is missing.”

“Where’s the others?”

“Saving the ecosystem,” Shuichi told him in barely a mumble.“Supposedly,” added Maki. Somehow, Hajime managed to look even more tired. He massaged his temples with two fingers each, squeezing his eyes shut.

Why would she put us through the trouble of putting it on if she’s just going to take it off!? he thought in outrage, fighting to get the stupid thing off of his head. It was so liberating to have his jaw entirely free once again– it felt like he was human again. Did she just want to humiliate me…?

Y-You really shouldn’t be walking around on a fractured ankle…” the woman continued stammering, her hands on her head. “I-If malalignment develops, then H-H-Hajime’s the only one who’d be able to fix it! You should r-really lay back down!”

“You should try ketamine,” he retorted dryly. “You sound like you’d benefit from it.”

You thought I was gonna die?” Kokichi scoffed, disguising his teary voice underneath a snicker. “Yeah, right. Like I’d die in a stupid locker.”

So apparently. The world ended.

And yes, he knew he shouldn’t be walking around yet. That was something Mikan, Shuichi and Hajime all reminded him of daily. Was that going to stop him, though? No. No it wasn’t.)

The rules were stupid,” Himiko insisted fiercely. “I’m glad you guys are okay now. I was casting all kinds of protection charms for you, but I wasn’t sure if they ever reached you.”Protection charms.Kokichi had nearly forgotten about it after what happened in the Seating Puzzle, but with that reminder, he could feel his body heating up.

“Or we can just… have a nice picnic somewhere,” Shuichi suggested hurriedly. “No one needs to slit open their stomachs.”Kokichi pouted. “Not even a little bit?” “What does a little bit even mean…?”

Maki made it… for Kokichi? Shuichi cast a surprised look back at his partner, who had stood out of his wheelchair and limped into the room. He gave Shuichi a similarly confused look, seeming to lack any form of an answer too.. Well, she was the one who found us. I was really aggressive over him when that happened…

Ah, barns. Shuichi didn’t imagine that he was going to be visiting that place anytime soon. Big animals were nice, and he always found horses a little fascinating, but up close? They were a little terrifying.

Hajime rubbed the side of his head, exasperation flicking across his face. “I wish I knew which god to curse, but no, I brought this upon myself. Let’s move on to our next topic: a recovery plan.”

He’s definitely going to run away from our sessions,” Hajime muttered under his breath as he closed the door.“A broken ankle will definitely not stop him,” Shuichi agreed fondly. “When are his sessions, anyway?”Hajime put on a small smile. “I’ll keep it a surprise, at least for now. He’ll be easier to catch if he doesn’t know when to flee.” “That– um, that sounds terrifying.”

You’re… feeling dysphoric?” Kokichi somehow found the bravery to ask.“What’s dysphoric?” Kaito whispered.

Obviously, that’s a lie. Vampires don’t exist, silly goose,” Kokichi declared. “Clearly he’s a ghost.”

“Also, even if you were high, why would you two be kissing each other? How bored do you gotta be?” “I can think of an emotion other than boredom that’d lead to it,” Kokichi snickered. Kaito paused, thinking deeply. “...curiosity?”Clearly, that wasn’t the answer Kokichi was thinking of. The only reaction he gave was a deadpan stare.

ONE CHAPTER LEFTTRR AGAHWHSJJD

Invisible paint brushes streaked lines of orange and yellow across the darkening sky, and he thought for only a moment, Angie must love her new canvas.

Every drop of color drained from his face and his head snapped forward, facing the sunset as he coughed awkwardly. Kokichi, probably curious, sat up and looked back at their apparent audience, forming an ‘o’ with his mouth when he saw them.“Busteddd,” Kokichi whispered, not sounding bothered in the slightest.

“I’m not jealous!” Kaito defensively shouted. “I’m just… really freakin’ confused!”

“What’s so hard to understand? Is it ‘cause we’re both boys?” Kokichi guessed, his voice layered with something akin to amusement. “Have you never seen two boys kiss before, Kaito?”

“That’s… that’s not the problem! I’m confused ‘cause I wasn’t expecting…” Kaito gestured wildly at them, his mouth open helplessly before he managed to spit out, “you two, yknow!?”

I wasn’t moping,” Shuichi protested at the same time K1-B0 exclaimed, “jetpack shoes!?”

As expected, K1-B0 looked even more surprised. “What? Kokichi and Shuichi are dating!? When did this happen?”

“This cannot get any worse,” Shuichi mumbled into his hand.“Nyeh!? What are all you guys doing here?”He stood corrected.

“The stars look great tonight, don’t you guys think?” Kaito spoke up, lifting a finger skyward.“You say that every night,” Maki pointed out.“That’s ‘cause the stars are freakin’ awesome!” Kaito shot back with an enthusiastic grin

Hell yeah, Keeboy! Embrace the robot!” Kokichi cheered, clapping his hands together excitedly.

"Whoopee! Keeboy, you’re flower girl.”

“What!? Why am I the flower girl?” K1-B0 demanded, visibly frazzled.“It’s like when you have your dog bring you the rings. You’re perfect for the role!” Kokichi exclaimed, practically having stars in his eyes as he excitedly pumped his fists up and down. “Himiko’s my maid of honor.”

“Nyeh!?”

TGE ENDDDD AUGH ILOVED DEATH PUZZLES SO DEARLY THANK YIU TO THE AUTHOR FOR WRITUNG IT.

[abitohoney]

All I Want for Christmas Is You

Chapter 5 of 6 - All I Want For Christmas Is You AO3 link

CH1 || CH2 || CH3 || CH4 || CH5 || CH6

Sevika x female reader

Rating: Explicit, MDNI, 18+, NSFW

Tags: Sevika/Reader, AU - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Lesbian Sex, Cunnilingus, Teasing, Humor, Vaginal Fingering, Orgasm Delay (nothing extreme), Begging, Strap-Ons, Face-Sitting, Corny & Cheesy Dialogue, kinda sappy

Word Count: 8.5k

Fic Summary: It’s your first year spending the holidays with Sevika, and though the two of you couldn’t be any different in your level of holiday spirit or view of the traditions that come with it, your shared adoration (and sexual attraction) for each other is more than enough to get both of you through it together.

A collection of little holiday-inspired scenes, technically chronological, but really could be read in any order or as stand-alone oneshots. Includes a nice blend of sugar (fluff) and spice (smut).

Chapter Summary: It's Christmas day, and not only do you get to spend it with your favorite person, it's also the first snow of the season. Can you convince Sevika to partake in the snow related festivities, or will the Grinch in her win out? (Was supposed to be just fun and fluff (the tooth rotting kind), but apparently I’m too horny, so enjoy a little smut at the beginning too!)

AN: Another fic already complete on AO3 that I'm bringing to Tumblr. Guess it's Xmas in April. 🤷‍♀️

Light filters in through the crack in your bedroom window shades. The brighter than usual beam aligns perfectly over your closed eyes. Pulling the sheets over your head, you feel Sevika’s warm body shift behind you. Her prosthetic arm, still snaked around your waist from where she placed it the previous night, pulls you closer against her bare chest. Warm breath tickles the hair at the back of your neck as she nuzzles into it and releases a deep sigh. A smile paints your face, delighted by how content your girlfriend is with having you near. As your head starts to clear of its morning fog, you realize what day it is.

“Sevika!” you whisper with barely contained excitement as you throw the sheet off both your naked bodies. When all you receive is a muffled groan against your neck, you try to pry her heavy arm off your body so you can sit up. Apparently she has other plans though, as she only holds you tighter and murmurs a curt, “No.”

“Sevika! It’s Christmas!” you say louder, and this time she releases her death grip on your body in favor of rolling onto her back and covering her face with a pillow. Now free, you sit upright, ignoring the way your body trembles and your skin prickles with goosebumps at the loss of her body heat in the chill of your bedroom. Scooting off the bed, you make your way to your window and push the curtains open to peer outside, curious as to why it’s so damn bright out this morning.

“OMG SEVIKA” you scream, no restraint in the volume of your voice this time.

Sevika immediately sits upright, head whipping in your direction as she prepares to save you from what must be something dangerous. Why else would you shriek like that? Her narrowed, bleary eyes take in your naked form silhouetted by the light pouring in through the now fully exposed window.

“IT SNOWED!” you squeal as you spin to face her.

The concern on Sevika’s face immediately fades into annoyance. Releasing a frustrated sigh, she falls back against her pillow, but stares blankly at the ceiling. She’s not going back to sleep, not after you startled her wide fucking awake. And not with you currently… frolicking around the bed to her side. “Babygirl,” she groans as you look down at her, all smiles, “It’s too early.” She can’t be upset with you though, not when you look so fucking adorable. Her lips pull up into a tiny smirk and she reaches out to run the backs of her metal fingers lightly down your side and over the swell of your hip.

Those ice cold digits paired with the feather light touch send chills down your spine and another wave of goosebumps across your skin. The way your body trembles in response does not go unnoticed by Sevika.

“You’re cold, sweetheart,” she purrs, her morning voice somehow impossibly deeper- huskier. That alone is enough to raise your body temperature a good several degrees. “Let me warm you.” She slips her prosthetic fingers around the back of your thigh, just beneath your ass cheek, and tugs gently- urging you to join her in bed again.

Your smile falters, legs aching with want as you watch her dark eyes rake over your naked body. “But Sevika,” you whine, “I want to open gifts and go enjoy the snow with you.”

“Later,” she insists, and you let her guide you onto the bed. Her hands slip around either side of your waist as you crawl onto the bed on your knees. She guides you so that you’re straddling her wide hips, her hungry eyes focused between your spread thighs. “Let me eat first,” she husks.

Smile completely gone now, replaced with a look of desperation- want- need, you whimper at her implication. You can't argue with such a tempting demand. So you let her have her way and allow her to pull you slowly up the bed and over her naked body. When your knees reach as far as they can go- blocked by her arms- she moves them to slip between your open legs and reaches up to grasp your sides. Locking eyes with you, she pulls you further up the bed. And with each step closer to her waiting mouth, you feel the fire in your belly grow hotter, and the muscles in your legs grow weaker. Once you’re aligned and hovering over her mouth, her hands slide down to your hips. Without breaking eye contact, she starts pressing open mouth kisses along the inside of one of your thighs, teasing you. Then she moves to the other thigh and nips at your heated flesh, drawing sweet little mewls from your parted lips with each bite.

Fully aroused and past any hope of controlling your own body, all you can do is stare down at Sevika’s lust-filled eyes and watch as she draws a deliberate line with her tongue, directly over the bite marks she just left. Your legs tremble, and the low chuckle she releases in response only weakens them further. Feeling a tug at your hips, you let her guide your body down, slowly sinking towards her plush lips, all while she drags the tip of her tongue up along the inside of the first thigh.

Unsure you’ll be able to hold yourself up by just your legs any longer, you grab for the headboard. Your controlled descent- and subsequently her tongue- stops just before she reaches the apex of your thighs. The whimper of disappointment and desperation that leaves your parted lips is pathetic. Though that ought to leave you feeling embarrassed, you know Sevika gets a thrill from having that power over you, and you can feel proof in the way her lips curl into an arrogant smirk against your skin.

Heated gaze still locked with yours, Sevika watches your lids droop as she takes a deep breath through her nose, then releases it with a deep hum of satisfaction. It’s such a lewd act, and yet it makes your walls clench around nothing.

Unable to take the prolonged teasing any longer, you silently plead with your eyes for her to get moving- to put that wonderful mouth of hers to work. When all she does is run her nose through the small patch of hair above your aching cunt, you turn to vocalizing your needs. “Sevika,” you whimper, “No more teasing, please.”

Her stormy eyes sparkle with mirth, pleased with how much of an effect she has on you- on your body. Continuing to run her nose over your mound, she husks, “I’m just savoring the aroma of my meal before I eat it.”

Janna, she talks so filthy.

Your nails dig into the soft wood of the headboard you’re currently grasping as you fight the desire to just grind against her beautiful face. However, you’re not prepared for when you feel her blow a stream of breath across your wet heat. Your hips instinctively rock forward, her nose brushing along your throbbing clit and sending a wave of pleasure through your lower half. ”Fuck!” you choke out.

Sevika, also seemingly not expecting your physical reaction, growls against your cunt. A warning not to do that again. Digging her fingers into the forgiving flesh of your hips, she moves you back in place above her, just a hairsbreadth from her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, “I didn’t mean to. It just felt so goo-” your apology falters, fading into a moan as you feel her trace the tip of her tongue just along the outside of your entrance. Apparently she’s already forgiven you. Another round of teasing the perimeter, and then you feel the pleasant drag of her tongue through your folds. She only just barely breaks the surface though, and it takes every ounce of your willpower not to buck against her face.

She knows exactly what she’s doing. Knows how to tease you. To only give just enough to keep you wanting more. To have you trembling above her. Each time her mouth meets your cunt, she gives you just a little more than the last.

Her tongue delves deeper between your folds and your eyes flutter shut. She prods- like the ungodly expert she is- at your wet hole, sinking that delightful tongue of hers deeper each time. Nails digging delightfully sharp into your hips, she pulls you further down onto her face until you’re practically resting your full weight on her. And Janna, how your eyes roll behind your lids when you feel her tongue curl and drag along your walls as she- ever so slowly- lifts you back up.

“S… Sevika,” you mewl, but she doesn’t hear you. She’s too lost in her own reverie at the taste of you filling her mouth. Lifting her head she presses her lips against your cunt as she laps with renewed hunger. Her own deep, hum of satisfaction sends vibrations straight to your clit, further threatening your resolve.

“Tha- that feels- so good,” you moan, and that’s all the encouragement she needs to pick up the pace.

She pulls you back down onto her mouth, her nose buried alongside your clit. Her hands force your hips to roll down and over her face. Her tongue fucks you with each decent, and her nose rubs along the sensitive bundle above with each drag forward.

Your head lolls back, and your legs finally give way to the overwhelming pleasure, but Sevika never wavers in controlling how your body bounces and grinds over her face. Belly burning with your impending orgasm, you try to communicate how close you are, but all that falls from your parted lips is a string of nonsensical pleas and whines.

In the back of your mind, you realize Sevika is making her own sounds of pleasure, groaning each time she feels your walls clench around her tongue. Tilting your head forward, you force your bleary eyes open to peer down at her.

Sevika’s ravenous gaze is focused on your bouncing breasts. Her head bobs and switches angles as she intentionally rubs that perfect nose of hers along your clit. And you’re certain that site alone could push you over the edge.

Removing one hand from the headboard, you grab one of your breasts, kneading, pinching and playing with it as if it were Sevika’s hand. It’s nothing compared to hers, but you aren’t doing it for yourself. You’re doing it for her. To reward her. To excite her. And it obviously works.

In one swift motion, she’s pulling your clit to her mouth, wrapping her lips around it and sucking with just the right amount of pressure- all while releasing a guttural groan that you swear you can feel down to your toes.

You scream. Your orgasm hits you unexpectedly and intensely. But that scream almost instantly devolves into a broken sob and incoherent babbling as your muscles spasm with each pulsating surge of pleasure that races through your body. Clutching the headboard to keep from completely collapsing, you abandon all restraint and wrap your thighs around Sevika’s head, keeping those delightful lips in place around your clit as you ride out your high.

When you finally start to come back to reality, you gaze down at Sevika through clouded eyes. All you can see are those beautiful, stormy gray eyes focused on yours, and the top of her head. It only just starts to dawn on you that not only are you sitting on her with your full weight, you also have the sides of her head in a vice grip between your thighs.

“Shit,” you huff, “I’m- I’m sorry.”

She doesn’t say anything- understandable given she has a mouthful of cunt forced on her- but she also doesn’t seem upset. Quite the opposite rather. She looks almost fucked out herself with how relaxed her brows are and how glazed over her eyes are. Then you realize she’s also no longer holding your hips. Her hands are sitting limp against the mattress at her sides. She willingly allowed you to fully sit on her face.

Oh gawd.

You need to get off her, but your legs feel like jelly. And although she’s no longer actively sucking, her lips are still wrapped around your very sensitive clit. Any amount of movement is going to cause overstimulation, and you’re still too fucked out to handle that.

“Sevika,” you say meekly, “I- I can’t sit up on my own.”

Her eyes twitch, as if coming into focus, and she slowly lifts her hands to grasp your waist. With little to no effort, she carefully lifts you off her face, but the sight that reveals has your body aching with new arousal. Several strings of- saliva? Your release? Both? Whatever it is, it hangs connected between your weeping cunt and her lips. On top of that, her mouth and chin is absolutely coated- glistening. You can’t help but whimper wantonly.

“Made quite a mess, babygirl,” she says, her voice even huskier than usual. She sets you down over her stomach, apparently not caring too much about messes considering you’re now leaving those various fluids on her there too.

“That’s technically your fault,” you point out with a weak smile. You're exhausted.

“I’m not even talking about my face.”

Brows furrowed, you search around her head, clueless as to what other mess she could be referring to. Coming up with nothing, you ask, “What do you mean?”

She nods her head to something behind you and you glance over your shoulder even more confused.

“Look down, sweetheart.”

You do, eyes traveling up the length of her legs, to the apex of her spread thighs-

Oh shit!

“Sevika! Did- did you cum from that?” you ask, wide-eyed and completely astonished. You turn back to her as she wipes the back of her flesh hand across her face.

She doesn't answer. Just smirks up at you. Apparently that's a 'yes'.

You’re speechless. Not a damn thing you can think to say to that.

“You just stay here. I’ll get us cleaned up,” she says and helps move you off her and onto the bed.

Lying on your back, you stare blankly up at the ceiling.

Sevika got off…from you getting off.

Hearing Sevika’s heavy footfalls as she comes back into the room, you adjust your head to watch her approach the side of the bed.

“You alright?” she asks with a cocky smirk. She knows you’re more than alright, but you’ll feed her ego.

“I’m feeling really good. You blow my mind every time, Sev.”

The corner of her mouth tugs higher and she starts wiping down the insides of your legs with a warm, wet cloth. When she gets to where you’re still terribly sensitive, she’s extra careful not to cause any discomfort. It warms your heart to see how someone so big, grumpy, cocky and brutish can be so gentle and caring with you, and only you.

Once the two of you are freshened up, Sevika crawls back into bed with you. Lying on her back, she wraps her human arm under you when you roll onto your side to face her. She pulls you closer as you snuggle up to her side, resting your head on her shoulder. With an arm draped across her chest and a leg over her thigh, you release a contented sigh. Closing your eyes, you focus on the steady rise and fall of Sevika’s chest. You feel her press a kiss to the top of your head and you’re certain if you lay like this for too long, you’re going to fall right back to sleep.

“We should get up before we both pass back out,” you murmur after several blissful minutes of just cuddling with your girlfriend.

Sevika hums a noncommittal response. She’s going to make you be the one to push you two to get up. Again.

Reluctantly, you sit up and scoot to the end of the bed before hopping down and making your way to the dresser. Grabbing underwear for both of you, you sling hers across the room. It lands on her face and you make no effort to hide your giggles as she groans. You slip into yours then grab the matching pajamas and socks you bought specifically for today. “Here. Put these on too,” you say and toss hers. They land right smack in the center of her face just as she’s sitting up.

She narrows her eyes at you, to which you offer her your best innocent smile.

“More matching shit?” she grumbles as she picks up her clothing.

“It’s not as bad as the sweaters, I promise,” you reply while slipping your green, fluffy socks on. Then you follow with the red plaid pajama pants and long-sleeved top. Sevika has the same combo, but in swapped colors. And just like with her sweater, you removed the left sleeve to allow her prosthetic to slip through more easily.

Coming to stand beside where Sevika sits at the edge of the bed while slipping her last red sock on, you give her a quick peck on the cheek. “You look cu-” you pause, knowing she hates being called ‘cute’, “You look nice.”

She stands up beside you, not looking entirely pleased with her getup, but she also isn’t complaining like she did with the ugly sweater.

Progress!

“Now we can go outside," you exclaim, and without giving Sevika a moment to reply, you take hold of human wrist and drag her out of the bedroom, towards the front door. “I’m so excited!” you squeal. Grabbing your winter coat, gloves and boots, you ignore Sevika’s muttered, “Obviously.” from behind you. Geared up for the cold, you turn to find Sevika begrudgingly slipping into hers, but she’s taking her damn sweet time. “C’mon, Sev. Don’t be such a Grinch. You’ll have fun.”

Once Sevika is fully dressed in her winter attire, you throw the door open and dash outside. Sevika, far less enthused, slowly trudges out behind you.

With her back to you as she turns to close the door, you make a hasty snowball and launch it in her direction. Not only does it land, it nails her square in the back of her head. She flinches, her shoulders jerking upward. A nice glob of snow sticks to her dark hair and you have to cover your mouth with a gloved hand to stifle the giggles that slip past.

Sevika turns slowly, deliberately, to face you. Narrowed stormy eyes land on you, and you know this is going to be the damn flour incident all over again. Without removing her eyes from you, she kneels down and scoops up a nice sized ball of snow. Sensing an impending onslaught of snowballs, you give yourself a head start and spin to run towards the side of the house, giggling as you go. You don’t get far though, before you feel something smack you hard in the center of your ass. You yelp, nearly tripping from the sheer force in which you were hit.

Damn she’s got good aim!

“Why you running, babygirl?!” she calls from behind you tauntingly.

“Cause I don’t want to be covered in snow!” you yell as you round the house to the back yard. The snow is thicker there and- as luck would have it- one of your boots get stuck. You fall down- face first- into the thick snow. With the amount of momentum you had from running, you sink far enough to cover most of your body. Through the snow covering your ears, you can hear a muffled taunting chuckle and the crunch of approaching footsteps. Then you’re suddenly being pulled out of the snow by the collar of your coat before being set back down on your haunches.

“Were you running from me or yourself?” Sevika teases as you work to brush off the snow from your- everything.

“Haha,” you reply mockingly once your mouth is free of snow. Sevika's boots move into your view as she steps in front of you. Slowly, you tilt your head back to glare up at her shit-eating grin.

“Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart. I didn’t do this to you,” she sneers. She offers you her hand though, which you reluctantly take. She pulls you to your feet with enough force that you stumble into her hard form.

Hands pressed against Sevika’s chest, you tilt your head back to shoot her another nasty look, but she only smirks in return.

“Hey, where’s that pretty smile?” she asks in the smooth, sexy voice she knows will make you easily forgive and forget. She brings her gloved hand to your face, gently swiping away remnants of snow from your cold cheeks.

You try not to let your pout slip into a smile, but when her smirk softens and her arms slide around your back to pull you closer, you lose it. Grin back in place, you give her a playful shove, which -as expected- doesn’t do much of anything. Can’t exactly move a mountain. “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?” she asks, but you know she’s playing dumb with the way her lips curl higher.

“Be all sweet, and smooth and sexy when I’m mad at you.”

She chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead. “I like your smile.”

Okay. Really can’t be mad at her now.

You won’t give her the benefit of a response, but she sees how that makes your smile grow. When she lets her hands fall back to her sides, you take a step back and peer down at the indent your body left in the snow. Struck with an idea, you turn back to Sevika. “I bet you’ve never made snow angels before, have you?” Taking her arched brow as a ‘no’, you trudge through the thick snow to a spot that looks a bit shallower. “It’s fun. Did this all the time as a kid,” you say before stretching your arms out at your side and falling back into the snow.

Sevika stands several feet from you, watching with mild amusement as you start moving your arms and legs across the snow several times.

“Okay. Help me up, but don’t step on my angel.”

You can tell by the way her lips twitch that she wants to say something snarky, but she comes to your aid silently. Taking her hand once again, you let her pull you to your feet, then turn to face your creation. “See! It’s a snow angel!”

Sevika stares down at the displaced snow, clearly unimpressed.

“Really? Nothing to say?” you pout and plant your hands on your hips. “Let’s see you do better!”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Oh come on, Sev. It’s something everyone needs to experience at least once.”

“No.”

Fine. If she won’t do it willingly…

Not learning from your earlier attempt to shove her, you pull your hands far back before shoving them full force- throwing all your body weight into it- into Sevika’s chest. To your surprise- and hers- you do manage to cause her to take a small step back to balance herself. Your eyes widen while her brows raise.

“Babygirl, you really want me to do it that badly?” she asks. When she sees you prepare to give pushing her another try, she grabs your wrists before your hands can connect with her chest again. Sighing, she relents, “I’ll do it. Just this once.” Your resultant giggles have her shaking her head, probably wondering why she puts up with your silly ass. Arms spread wide just like you had, she checks over her shoulder, then turns to you with an eye roll, a muttered, “You owe me,” and then finally falls backwards.

Janna, what you would give to somehow capture this image forever. Sevika is lying in the snow before you, grumpy face firmly in place, while she makes a fucking snow angel. A half-assed snow angel, but a snow angel nonetheless.

Once she’s done, you offer her your hand. However, when she arches a brow, you realize there’s no way you’re going to be helping her up, so you let your arm drop to your side and take a step back out of the way. “Careful not to mess it up!” you tell her as she moves to stand on her own.

On her feet, the two of you look over her handiwork. It’s comically larger than yours, and honestly not much like any angel you've seen. “Not bad, but I think it needs something,” you say and make your way to the top of her ‘angel’.

Sevika watches as you draw two long, curved lines above her head. Then you move to the side and draw a squiggly line coming from her lower back, and add a little triangle at the opposite end. “What the hell is that?” she grunts.

“Horns and a tail. I think a devil suits you much better than an angel,” you tease. The innocent smile you flash her starts to falter when she meets your gaze and her lips curl into a sinister smile.

“That so?” she sneers, “Well this devil has a penchant for corrupting sweet little angels.”

“Sev, no!” you squeal when she moves to grab you, but you remain rooted, knowing after your earlier mishap that running is futile. Not only does she grab you, she throws you over her damn shoulder. The shrill yelp that rips from your throat has her chuckling. “Sevika! Put me down!” you screech, kicking your feet helplessly as she starts to carry you back toward the front of the house.

“No.”

“At least carry me nicely!” you demand.

“Devils don’t do things nicely.” she sneers, but you can hear that playful inflection in her voice. She’s enjoying messing with you. “And stop kicking or I’ll drop your ass,” she adds with a firm slap to said ass.

Another yelp leaves your throat and your face flushes at how your body reacts to her spanking you. Feeling suddenly a bit too... excited, you opt to shut your mouth for the remainder of her trek back to the front door.

Metal hand firmly gripping your ass to keep you from slipping off her shoulder, Sevika uses her gloved hand to open the door and steps inside. After kicking the door shut behind her, she carefully sets you on your feet. Smirking down at you- obviously enjoying how flustered you look- she starts stripping off her winter gear. “Now get that shit off and get your angelic ass on the couch. This devil needs your body to warm her up.”

Can’t argue with that.

As you quickly remove your gear, you think of one last wintry thing you want to share with her. “Can your angel make us a hot cup of cocoa to drink while we cuddle?”

“Who said we’re gonna cuddle?” she purrs as she steps into your personal space. And by personal space you mean her thick thighs- so thick that even her baggy pajama pants hug them impossibly tight- are directly in front of your face as you’re bent over removing your last boot.

Peering up at her through your lashes, you slowly straighten back up. “Not that I would ever deny whatever else you have in mind, but I really was hoping for some cuddles by the fireplace and opening gifts.”

And then the two of you are in a silent standoff. She watches you with a sexy smirk, threatening to make your knees weak and cave into giving her what she wants. But you have an equally powerful tool at your disposal. Your pouty lips and pleading doe-eyes.

Sighing in defeat, Sevika’s smirk devolves into a sweeter grin. “Alright, babygirl. This just means you owe me even more.”

“Okay!” you agree without question and make your way to the kitchen to whip up some hot chocolate. Surprisingly, Sevika follows you. “Are you going to help?” you ask as you fill a kettle with water and set it on the stove.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” she replies as she steps up behind you and wraps her arms around your waist, “Just wanted to steal some of your body heat.”

“I can’t really work like this,” you point out, but you make no effort to stop her. Not when you actually enjoy the attention.

It does- in fact- prove to be rather difficult to work with her wrapped around you. Trying to move around the kitchen with your tall, wide girlfriend holding you close, is challenging to say the least. However, you do manage, and end with two, hot, delicious cups of hot cocoa.

“What do you think?” you ask, handing Sevika her cup when she finally releases you from her embrace.

Lifting it to her mouth, she eyes it suspiciously before taking a small sip. Judging by the way her face scrunches up like it did when she tried eggnog the other day, she is not a fan. “Too sweet,” she grumbles.

“But I thought you liked sweet things,” you reply with a coy smile that she doesn’t seem to catch- too busy glaring at her cocoa.

“Never liked sweet things.”

“What about me?”

That gets her to look at you. “You’re the only exception, sweetheart.”

“Well I might be able to make that sweet cup of cocoa a little more tolerable,” you reply and make your way to the cabinet where Sevika stores her liquor. Selecting one of her favorite whiskeys, you remove the cap and pour a hefty amount into her hot chocolate. “How about now?”

She takes a sip- this time a nice long one- then pulls it away with a pleased hum.

“Now how about those cuddles?” you suggest and she nods, following you into the living room.

She helps you get the fireplace started, then gets settled into the corner of the couch, patting her thigh to indicate where she’d like you to sit. More than happy to oblige, you seat yourself across her lap, smiling as you wrap both your hands around your warm mug.

The two of you sip your cocoa in companionable silence, watching the fire dance and listening to the crackle of the logs. Sevika’s prosthetic, currently draped along the back of the couch just behind you, plays absentmindedly with your shirt collar. The smooth backs of her fingers caressing your skin.

Hot chocolates finished, you gather up both mugs and set them in the kitchen sink before grabbing Sevika’s gift from under the tree. “Gift time!” you call as you skip over to plop back down beside her on the couch. You turn to her with a huge smile and hand her the gift, excited to see her reaction.

Sevika’s lips twitch, fighting the smile threatening to bloom at the sight of your intricately wrapped present. It’s wrapped in a dark red paper that she knows is far too similar to that of her cape to be merely coincidence. The perfectly tied bow is a shiny gold that could easily be mistaken for the same material that covers the left collar of her favored leather vest. From the corner of her eye, she can see your leg bouncing up and down in excitement and she finally lets a small grin tug at the corner of her mouth.

Focused on watching your girlfriend’s expression, you wait- rather impatiently- for her to slowly remove the meticulously tied bow. It’s like last night’s gift all over again with how she takes her sweet ass time. Only this time the end results will likely be very different in nature. Even so, you’re just as anxious. You catch the way her brow raises just the faintest amount as she peels back enough paper to reveal the top of the humidor beneath. And it doesn’t go unnoticed how she then starts to remove the paper faster.

Nailed it.

With the paper removed, Sevika opens the lid to reveal a large number of her favorite cigars. Imported, and expensive to the point you know she only buys a small number each year as a treat. “Babygirl, this is too much,” she murmurs, but you catch how she smiles.

“I wanted to,” you reply, watching how she takes one out and brings it to her nose to inhale deeply. “There’s a couple other things in there too,” you point out.

She pulls out two small items covered in brown paper and unwraps one, revealing a gold cigar cutter. Then she unwraps the other to reveal a matching lighter. Both have her initials engraved into them. Her gaze lifts to your expectant one and she shakes her head.

Your heart drops for a moment.

Is she disappointed? Does she not like them?

“This is far too much,” she says quietly.

“But you like it?” you ask hopefully, but you feel that hope crack as she places everything back in the humidor and sets it on the end table beside her.

“Of course I like it, but you must have spent far more on this than you can afford.”

“Can’t put a price on how much I adore you, Sev.”

The way her expression softens- her eyes shifting as if she doesn’t know how to respond- makes your heart flutter. You place a hand on the top of her thigh and lean forward to give her a quick peck on the corner of her mouth. Before you can pull back, her human hand cups your cheek and she leans in to press her lips fully to yours.

She kisses you softly- tenderly- and you feel yourself melting. You know this is her way of silently thanking you. When she breaks the kiss, you can tell she’s holding back a smirk, but you’re not sure why.

“I got you something too,” she says quietly, and now you realize why she’s trying to hide a smile. She must be excited to see what you think of your gift. She reaches around the side of the couch and pulls out a box from under the end table. Placing it in your lap, she’s now the one anxiously watching your expression.

The box is- unsurprisingly- not wrapped. What is surprising however, is that it does have a little red bow on the top. And honestly, you think it’s pretty damn cute that she even went that far. Brimming with excitement, you pull the lid off and set it on the couch at your other side. Removing several pieces of tissue, you find a simple, black blindfold.

What in Janna’s name…

Your eyes rise to Sevika’s face suspiciously. She’s no longer holding back her smile. No, rather she’s smirking like she’s up to something. Like she knows something you don’t. “Sev…” you start skeptically, “What is this for?”

“Put it on.”

That is not the answer you’re looking for, but when she arches a brow, you do as you’re told and slip it on and align it over your eyes. You feel the couch shift as Sevika stands. She takes your hand into hers and guides you to stand as well. Without the sense of sight, your other senses start to work overtime and you can feel her warm breath fan across your forehead. She’s facing you.

“Sev, what’s going on?” you ask in an almost whine. “Is this for… bedroom time?” You’re almost hopeful that’s what it is, but when she starts silently guiding you in the direction of the front door, you know that’s not going to be the case.

“What did I tell you about being patient, sweetheart?” she teases.

“Good things come to those who wait,” you repeat, mocking her typical dry tone. And though that is true in the case of Sevika, that usually involves sex, which this clearly does not. Does it?

“Put this on,” she says when she finally stops and releases your hand.

You can feel her holding your coat to your back, which has you so much more confused as to what the hell she’s up to. “Sev, where are we going?” you ask as you allow her to help you slip each arm into the sleeves. “We’re still in our pajamas.”

“Nobody will be there,” she replies, ignoring your first question. After helping you slip your gloves and boots on, she leaves you momentarily to put out the fire before returning to get into her own coat and boots.

Taking your hand again, she guides you outside and into your vehicle. You know you’re not supposed to ask questions. You’re supposed to be patient. But damn, this has got to be the oddest thing she’s ever done. She’s never surprised you with anything outside the bedroom, so you’re literally at a loss as to what’s going on.

The drive is short, but the silence it carries is maddening. You're so damn confused, nervous and excited. When the vehicle stops, you listen for any sounds that could indicate where the hell she’s taken you. But, even as the door opens beside you, all you can hear is the rustle of Sevika’s coat as she reaches in to help you step down and out.

With her hand on the small of your back, she’s guiding you once again.

“Sev, how much further?” you finally ask, breaking that awful silence.

“We’re here. Sit down.”

Sit down? You don’t even know if there’s anything behind you, but she takes your elbow and helps you get seated on what feels like a cold, metal bench. Then, as if this whole situation couldn’t get any weirder, you feel her start to remove your boots, only to replace them with different footwear that you can’t quite identify. Something with laces apparently, as you feel her tighten them up.

She sits beside you, presumably to swap out her boots as well.

What the hell is going on?

“Alright, you can remove it.”

Finally!

Not waiting a second longer, you reach up and yank the blindfold off. Unfortunately, your eyes can’t quite adjust that quickly to the sudden change from near pitch black to blinding bright white light that reflects from the surrounding snow. Squinting, your eyes finally start to focus, and you realize you’re seated right in front of a small, frozen pond. Glancing around in stunned silence, you notice nobody else is there, just several small evergreen trees to your right. They line the very edge of the pond, and against the powdery white snow that coats them, you can see a variety of shiny red, gold, silver and green baubles decorating the branches. Then you remember Sevika had put something different on your feet. Straightening your legs out in front of you, you find your boots had been replaced with… ice skates?

Oh dear Janna, did she bring you to ice skate?!

A quick glance to Sevika’s own skate donning feet confirms your suspicion.

Holy. Fucking. Shit!

Your wide eyes search her expression for answers to questions you haven’t even formed yet. You watch as her eyes focus on your expression, clearly anxious for a reaction. “Sevika! Did- did you really bring me here to skate with you?!” you whisper in shock. There’s not another soul around to be quiet for, but you’re literally stunned to the point you’re almost breathless. This is not something you would have ever expected your grumpy girlfriend to do for you.

“You’ve been talking about it for weeks,” she replies quietly.

Wow. Just wow.

“Sevika, this is such a sweet gift!” You turn your attention to the decorated trees again, then back to her. “You didn’t do that too, did you?”

She nods, and you swear to Janna she looks almost bashful to admit it. “Ran helped.”

You owe Ran a hug and many thanks later, but right now you want to smother Sevika in kisses.

“You want to go out there?” she asks.

“Yes! Of course!” you exclaim. That earns you a cute lopsided grin as she stands and offers you her gloved hand. You give her your own, allowing her to help you to your feet. Hand in hand, the two of you carefully make your way onto the edge of the ice. Pausing you turn to gaze up at Sevika, and before you even ask the question on your mind, you know the answer. “Have you ever done this before?”

Sevika looks downright terrified, but she’s trying so damn hard to hide it under her typical surly demeanor. Yet there’s no hiding the way her hand clenches around yours even harder when both her skates hit the slick ice and slide just a fraction. Nor the way her entire body tenses. Everything goes stock straight- rigid.

“It’s okay Sev,” you assure her and give her hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ve only done this a couple times myself. We’ll both probably fall a few times.” It’s a lie. You’d actually done it quite a few times in your childhood, just not for several years. When she gives you the side eye, you offer her a reassuring smile. “We’ll start slow.”

Carefully, you start to move forward. When she makes no effort to follow along, leaving your arm extended awkwardly behind you, you pause and turn to face her. Taking her prosthetic in your other hand, you start to slowly skate backwards.

“You know that’s not going to help, right?” she grunts. “If I start to go down I’m going to crush you.”

Gradually pulling her forward while you make your way further back over the pond, you can’t help but smile. It’s incredibly cute how nervous your brute of a girlfriend is over something as silly as ice skating. “You make it sound like being pinned beneath you is a bad thing,” you joke.

“It will be when you get to feel the brunt of my entire body weight crashing down on you,” she grumbles. Her eyes are focused on watching her own feet, and you think perhaps this is a good thing. That way she can’t see the way your eyes sparkle with mirth or how you smile in amusement at her expense.

“Sounds like a great way to go,” you laugh. Turning your skate to stop for a moment, you almost can’t contain your giggles when Sevika starts to freak out because the little bit of momentum across the slick ice keeps her headed straight for you. Her chest lightly bumps into yours, but your turned skate keeps you in place.

No longer able to glare at her feet, she’s left staring down at your beaming face. Some of that concern and frustration etched into her brows softens, and she grins.

“Kiss me?” you ask sweetly and bat your lashes at her.

“Babygirl, I’d like to, but if I try to bend down- we’re both going down.”

“It’ll be fine, just do it slowly.” You release her hands, but she immediately starts to wobble and it’s so hard not to laugh at how she goes wide-eyed. Grabbing her hands again, you place them on your waist to help steady her. It seems to work, but the death grip she has on you can be felt even through your thick winter coat.

“Shit,” she curses under her breath.

That scowl of hers is back in place, but you’re confident you can get her back to smiling. Placing your hands on her hips, you tilt your head back, purse your lips, and close your eyes - ready for your kiss. You hear her release a defeated sigh, but you can feel her bend at the waist and her warm breath hit your cold cheek when she places a kiss there. “You missed,” you tease, eyes still closed and lips waiting. Her deep chuckle warms your chest, but her lips finally pressing to yours set your whole body aflame. Thankfully, she manages to stay stable throughout the kiss, relaxes a bit even.

When Sevika straightens up, you smile up at her adoringly. “Thank you so much for doing all this,” you say softly. “This is the perfect gift.”

That smirk of hers is- as expected- back in place, but you can tell she wants to say something. You give her a moment, but when she says nothing, you try prodding her. “Something on your mind?”

“No. Let’s just keep going,” she replies and her eyes flit to the center of the pond, then back to you.

Taking her hands into yours again, you return to your slow backward skate, dragging Sevika along with you. After several close calls with her losing her balance but not quite falling, she starts to get the hang of it. You can feel her hands loosen their death grip on yours and see her shoulders drop a bit as some of that tension slips away. You both watch the other’s expression in silence. She admires your sweet, enthusiastic smile, while you admire her crooked smirk and the way her cheeks and nose start to redden with the chill of the wintry air.

Feeling bolder now that she seems to be getting more comfortable, you pick up your speed and start pulling her in more random patterns. To your surprise- and delight- she goes along with it, apparently too caught up in watching you smile. But, as the two of you approach the center of the pond, you catch how her eyes flit to something on the surface and her expression changes for just a split second. Too fast for you to determine what she was feeling. You glance down at your feet just in time to catch sight of a small, black box as you pass it.

“Oh! There’s something out here, Sev!” you point out. Carefully reducing your speed, you bring the two of you back to the box. Once you're both stopped and steady, you release her hands. Before you can kneel to inspect the item, you realize Sevika is looking nervous as hell again. “You’re fine! You’re not going to fall!” you laugh. She doesn’t seem to hear you though, as she just stares silently at you.

She’s so odd today.

Kneeling down, you grab the velvety box. It’s small enough to fit in the palm of your hand. Rising to your feet, you inspect it further. You realize it’s a clamshell, so you slowly flip the lid open, but are not prepared for what you find inside.

A ring? An engagement ring?

“Sevika!” you exclaim in shock, “Someone lost their engage-” your words die in your mouth when you catch Sevika’s nervous stare again.

Wait. No. It can’t be. She didn’t. She wouldn’t.

You search her eyes for the answers, too afraid to ask the questions. Her attention drops to the ring, and she very slowly, carefully, propels herself forward until she’s close enough to take the box from your hand. All you can do is watch, utterly dumbfounded, as her shaky human hand slips the glove off your left hand. Removing the ring from the box, she stuffs both your glove and the box into her pocket and then her worried eyes meet yours.

“I- I can’t kneel right now,” she stammers, her normally solid, confident voice nearly cracking.

Oh Janna!

She’s worried about being able to kneel. Yet you’re not sure you can even stand right now with how weak your knees feel. “Sevika…” you whisper breathlessly as she takes your ring finger in her metal hand while her poor, trembling human hand fumbles with the attempt to slide the ring on. You help her, although even your hand shakes with the amount of emotion threatening to explode from your every fiber. Your eyes brim with unshed tears, ready to fall at any moment.

“Will you-”

“Yes!” you scream, not even allowing her to stammer out the question you know is coming. Unfortunately, you were a bit too enthusiastic, and your poor girlfriend- fiancé- is so startled that she jumps. You try to grab her- foolish as it is to think you can help keep your gigantic fiancé upright- and latch onto her wrists. She loses her balance, feet slipping out from under her, and falls backwards, taking you down with her.

She lands on her back with a loud oomph, while you crash on top of her solid body with a startled yelp. You manage to firmly plant your hands down on the ice on either side of her broad shoulders to prevent your head from smacking into hers. Both of you stare wide-eyed at one another in shock for a solid two seconds.

And then you both laugh. You’re the first to release the tear inducing giggles, but her deep, belly shaking laughter follows soon after. Those tears of joy that had been so close to spilling over now fall freely down your cold cheeks before dripping down onto Sevika’s.

Once the two of you recover from your fits of laughter, you can’t help but just pepper her face with kisses. Despite the cold air, her cheeks are flush with warmth.

“Sweet-” Sevika tries to speak over your onslaught of affection, cutoff when you peck the corner of her mouth. When your lips moves to her nose, she tries again. “Sweetheart, I get it.”

You pause, just long enough to check her expression. And upon seeing she’s not upset in the least, you quickly resume showering her in chaste kisses. At least until you feel her wrap her arms around you and roll the two of you over. Though she manages to get you on your back, she struggles to straddle you without slipping. As soon as you start laughing at her predicament, she gives up, letting her body slip down onto yours.

Giggles cutoff by the sheer weight of Sevika, you squirm beneath her. “Sevika!” you chastise, “You’re gonna crush me!”

She takes mercy on you- at least a bit- and pushes her upper body up off yours. Now she’s the one grinning down at you. “Thought that was a great way to go,” she mocks teasingly. Before you can retort, her lips are on yours.

When she breaks the kiss and gazes down at you with a crooked grin, you feel suddenly overwhelmed with emotions. “Sevika, this has been the best gift ever. I mean there’s no topping this,” you say softly. Your smile fades, replaced with that of disappointment as you continue. “But, I feel like my gift to you is so pitiful now. I really wanted to give you something special for our first Christmas together.”

Before you can turn away, Sevika’s gloved hand cups your cheek and she locks eyes with you. “Babygirl, I got what I wanted. And I’ll want the same thing next year, and the year after that.” When you raise a brow in question, she gives you a soft, warm kiss on your cold nose before answering your unspoken question.

“All I want for Christmas is you.”

next chapter >

[justaduckarts]

I wanna try to compliment the SH fic in the least spoilery way possible but i will most likely fail but WOOO TIME FOR A RANT

Starting off, Star Holder

Everyone is so worried that Eclipse or Pluto will manipulate them when Aurelia has already done that. She's the reason why they are so traumatized and meek and so easily gullible. And now here they are, in between several gods while they are all pulling on different limbs in different directions trying to tell them to go their way and to not listen to the others. I don't blame Star Holder for being so god damn anxious about every single conversation. Every conversation could literally end up in a war if they say something wrong.

Lunar!

That cheeky fuck. I love him so much hes such an asshole(/aff). He's just a silly guy doing silly things and he might want to kill you but it's okay because he's just a silly guy! His back story is tragic and perfectly explains why he is the way he is. I also love how open he is to his plans. Is he using you? Yes, but at least he's honest about it. A true gentleman.

Moon

God damn. That's all I can say. Just- damn.

Okay but in all seriousness Moon is great. Maybe not great to others (after hearing what Pluto said about the star-) but he's a great character. Very anti-social and quiet but he can have fun if he wants to. *quiet chanting* Moon in a dress! Moon in a dress! Sorry, my demons. Anyway. He's definitely trying his best, but he's not very good at it. E for effort, F for execution.

Sun. Dear lord Sun-

Again, he's trying. He just has no fucking clue what he's doing. He's incredibly oblivious it's almost painful. I don't know if I want to give him a hug or slap him. I could do both. Hug then slap. That'd be nice. But anyway, he's very interesting but after learning more about his past I just keep thinking "hypocrite". Talking about how Eclipse is trying to manipulate Star Holder (which he may have at first) only for the star, but he made the star for the purpose of controlling his own brother. That doesn't seem fucked up to him I guess. Of course there's reasonings but it's still so incredibly wrong. But I think that's enough about Sun.

Pluto

Oh how I love her. She seems like the only one (besides Eclipse) who truly cares about Star Holder and doesn't want to use them. The moment Sun and Moon found out that the star was growing they immediately jumped to "we need to know how to use it." Though, Eclipse also seems to have a similar thought process, so he's not much better. Is it possible that Pluto is using Star Holder? Maybe. But lets be honest, so many gods are trying to use them that you can barely even tell which ones are actually sincere of their promise that they care. She is so lovely though. I love how she is actually trying to give them the choice of using the star for good and not just using it to control people (as it was originally intended) She seems genuinely good and it'd be devastating to find out that she isn't... concrete turning noises to stare at my angst loving self. Anyway.

Eclipse

He's my babygirl and no one can tell me otherwise. He is a pathetic traumatized stray cat that everyone thinks has rabies but is actually just starving and wanting love and affection. Okay! But in all seriousness! I love him. The more we find out about his past the more we realize "maybe the good guys aren't as good as we thought." They accused him of murder and didn't even let him explain. Sun didn't even try to use his gift? Although, Lunar did say that it's harder to use the gift when upset so I guess that makes sense. But I'm still annoyed cause I'm a whiny bitch. They seem to just never give Eclipse any slack or any benefit of the doubt. Though, we still don't know his entire story, so there is still likely something that changed things a lot (besides Moon's mother's death.)

I'm gonna stop here since I could go on forever. TBH all my thoughts of the characters could be totally wrong in my perception of them. If that's the case, I formally apologize, I don't think much as is so when I do it's not always the best thing. BUT YEAH. THESE ARE MY THOUGHTS. If you want more there is plenty where this comes from just say the word and I'll flood your ask box again with an entire tangent.

Anyway, this is Birdcage signing off dramatic bow

skips away like a goofy goober

Hello!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Thank you so much this was so sweet. I love hearing people's thoughts and theories on the story and acvsgvsgvdth MAN. I don't want to give too much away. I will say that things are about to get interesting *looks at Saturday's chapter*

Anyway, thank you so so much!! I'm so glad you enjoyed it! I love getting asks so feel free to share your thoughts whenever (I may take some time to reply).

[alcinas-darling-side]

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎 | 𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞

Summary: Cleared at last, Hatter can finally return back to some semblance of a normal life. Some apologies are in order, and a few familiar faces return for a mission :) Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader (Callsign: Sol), Keegan P. Russ x Reader (Callsign: Hatter) Word Count: 5.3K Warnings: Canon-typical violence, swearing Author's Note: Hiiii, sorry for taking absolute decades for this update, midterms are coming up and ya girl is stressed. Be sure to look out for the next chapter on @bloodonmyhands-1221 's account!

The instant that Keegan opens up the door, Hatter is leaping into her husband’s arms, holding onto him as though he was her salvation.

“Hey, babygirl,” he says softly, though Hatter hears Sol snicker quietly to herself in the background

“Hey,” she says, and that’s all she can manage without sobbing, tears of relief streaming down her face. One could only put up a brave front for so long after all.

“I’ll be taking my wife back now, pardon me,” Keegan says, a light lilt to his voice that hasn’t been seen in days now filtering through his voice. He nods at them both before carrying Hatter back up the stairs toward their room.

Sol can only smile as she watches, and though the hesitation in Simon lingers, he can’t help but smile too. That maybe, everything might just be okay.

“I need to get back to work in here, I know Merrick asked everyone to take it easy until we need to head out again, so why don’t you head back?” Sol urges, patting him on the shoulder lightly.

“'Everyone' includes you too, love,” Simon says, not budging from his place. Sol can only sigh in response.

“Just…let me do a few more things. I need to be sure of everything, double check the labs before I can relax,” she says, eyes wide in a way she knew Simon couldn’t deny. “Please?”

Simon can only huff slightly, but he relents.

“Alright,” he brushes her hair back soothingly, “but don’t get back too late, yeah?”

She nods in response before swiftly turning back to the lab area, tuning out the rest of the world in exchange for her work. Simon only stares at his wife’s form with concern, but he knew better than anyone that once Sol’s mind was set, there was nothing stopping her. It would be like trying to stop the sun itself from lying asleep, transitioning to the night.

With a shake of his head, he makes his way back upstairs as well.

~

Keegan walks through the halls swiftly, uncaring of the eyes that trailed their form as they made their way through. Hatter couldn’t help but laugh at the look of determination on her husband’s face, to describe him as a man on a mission was an understatement.

“Be careful, don’t want to plow anyone over now,” she says with a laugh.

“Well, if we’re talking about plowing, the only one I’m doing that to is you,” he says lowly, and she can’t help the bark of laughter that springs forth. She slaps him lightly on the shoulder but feels her face heat up regardless.

He brusquely kicks open the door, yet when he gets over to the bed he places Hatter down as though she were made of the finest china, sitting down by her side.

He only looks at her for a moment, eyes widened in awe as though he can’t believe she’s truly there with him. Then, his eyes fall down to her arm where the bit lay. His fingers trail delicately over the bandage that encased the bite.

“Hey, hey. I’m fine, Keegan. I promise you,” she says, taking his cheek into her grasp tenderly.

“I know,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to hers. “Never, do that to me again, you hear?” he says, his tone joking, but Hatter can hear the fear that laced his words. Losing one’s soulmate was like losing a part of your heart you would never regain. Gone beyond the River Styx, lost between the veil of life and death.

He couldn’t lose her. She was his lifeline, the very air he breathed. He couldn’t.

“I’m not going anywhere, my love, not without you by my side,” she assures, climbing into his lap to be as close as possible. To make sure he knows, and feels, that she is here with him.

“You’re stuck with me, unfortunately,” she says with a grin before pressing her lips to his.

~

Keegan stares at the ceiling, the lights are off and it's already late in the evening. Even still, he lies awake as remorse runs through his veins. Hatter lies off to his side, bare shoulder peeking up over the sheets, barely visible in the low light. Only now does he realize how terrible he’s been to his closest friends after his wife has come home safe and sound.

Sol and Ghost…he owes them both an apology. Lashing out was the last thing anyone needed in an already high-stress environment. Sol especially, as she had been the one to run around desperately in search of a cure, as well as ensuring Hatter remained okay.

He was going to make this right.

Pulling the covers off of his body, he presses his lips to Hatter’s forehead before grabbing a hoodie and sweatpants, pulling them on.

As quietly as he can, he slips out of the room. Hatter needed her rest after all after what she’s been through.

The lights are dimmed out in the hallway, and most of the recruits were in the rooms because of curfew. Anyone who remained awake was high-ranking officials, who were likely holed up in their rooms doing paperwork. Though he knew Sol and Ghost would be awake.

Ghost…wasn’t one for sleep unless his wife was by his side. And he knew Sol was still skittering about in the lab, as she had been in light of recent events. While words could not describe the thankfulness he felt towards his friend, there was a great amount of worry too.

He knew what it was like, working himself to the bone. Back in 2005 during Operation Sand Viper, he felt the brunt of it as one of the original 15. Yet that was only the beginning. Extreme conditions were a daily occurrence as a Ghost. Which meant he knew it wouldn’t be long before she breaks.

Ghost, he should probably talk to him first. The couple would probably end up wanting to be together after he gets Sol to rest after all.

He knew where he would find him.

~

It was a peaceful night. The moon hanging in the sky, bathing the world in its cool glow. Selene herself must’ve been watching over the world with how quiet it was, yet Simon still didn’t feel at ease.

It was a gnawing sort of feeling, chewing away at him. Even with his usual balaclava off, shoved into one of the many pockets on his cargo pants, the air felt heavy in his lungs. Maybe it was the fact that Sol wasn’t by his side. Hadn’t been much ever since they got back from that mission. Maybe it was the fact that Hatter had almost died that day, that they all had. Or maybe it was the fact that he almost had to be the one to do it, kill her. Maybe it was because he almost did.

Yet he couldn’t. Even despite that conversation with her that night, one almost like this one. Despite the promise he made to her, he couldn’t do it. It was a cruel proposition, but it was a cruel world after all. Especially now.

Behind him, he hears the rooftop door open and glances back to see who it was.

Keegan.

Softly, he huffs a little sigh to himself, looking back out toward the scenery. He knew this conversation would come by at some point.

Turning to face the man, he rests his elbows on his knees as he remains sitting on the elevated edge of the rooftop.

Neither man says anything at first, though he does notice the slight widening of Keegan’s eyes as he takes in his appearance. It wasn’t often Simon had his mask off on base, at least outside of the safety of his room that is.

“Hey,” Keegan starts awkwardly, and Simon feels himself inwardly cringe, but nods in response.

“Look, I just wanted to apologize for how I acted. It was harsh and I didn’t understand where you and Hatter were coming from. So I’m sorry,” he says, now standing right in front of him. Simon holds nothing but understanding in his eyes.

“You acted a hell of a lot better than I did, mate. If I knew you were about to kill my wife I…don’t know what I would’ve done. It wouldn’t have been pretty, that’s all that I know,” he says, and Keegan huffs out a laugh.

“You’d probably wring my neck, that’s what,” he says, looking out into the horizon. “But I get your thought process. It was a dangerous situation, choosing her or the rest of the people on base. I wouldn’t have been able to do it, nor would Sol. If it actually came to it…” he grimaces but looks at Simon properly. “I’m happy it would’ve been you.” Keegan smiles, a fist held out, extending an olive branch. “No hard feelings?”

“Never was any, mate,” he says, bumping his fist in turn.

“I think you should head back,” Keegan says, glancing at his watch. “It’s late, and I’m about to send Sol your way after a quick chat.”

Simon hmphs in response.

“Ordering me around, Sergeant?” Simon asks but stands up regardless.

“Never, sir,” Keegan smirks.

~

Sol looks up from the papers in her hands as hesitant knocks sound out against the glass window. She wipes the tiredness from her eyes as she sees Keegan standing outside, hands deep in his pockets. Slightly confused, she waves him inside regardless.

The door opens with a soft click and his head ducks inside.

“Hey, wasn’t expecting you here. What’s up?” she asks as she tries to swallow away the deep-set tiredness that has settled over her in the last few days. Hatter was healthy and sound, but Sol had to make sure it stayed that way, that she would remain as she was. She came close to losing her closest friend once, but it would never happen again. Not if she had anything to do with it.

“Hey…I just wanted to apologize for how I’ve acted over the last few days,” he says, and an even more confused expression settles over Sol’s face.

“Why? You’ve done nothing wrong,” she says, and Keegan shoots her a deadpan look like ‘you’ve got to be joking right now’. If Sol hadn’t been so sleep-deprived, she would’ve laughed out loud, but settled for a snort instead.

“Even if I said that I was being the biggest asshole on Earth, that would still be the understatement of the century,” he says with a grimace, thinking back on how he had lashed out at everyone over the last few days. “…and I’m sorry.”

“Look Keegan,” Sol starts, a sympathetic look on her face. “All of us were scared, hell, terrified of what was going to happen to Hatts. That makes us say things we don’t mean sometimes, I get it. You could’ve lost your wife, of course, you were angry at the world. It’s okay,” she emphasizes.

“No, it’s not. I lashed out. At both you and Ghost, and anyone else who tried to offer me comfort. And you all didn’t deserve it. Especially you. I was so lost in my emotions that I had forgotten just how much it must’ve killed you inside too. We both know Hatter better than anyone else in the world, losing her would destroy us both,” he says, and despite all else, she couldn’t help the tears that welled up in her eyes at the mere prospect of losing her best friend. Keegan’s expression drops at the sight of it but Sol waves him off.

“We both were afraid and coped in different ways. I won’t fault you for acting like you did Keegan. Just like I know Ghost feels no animosity towards you too. So don’t worry about it, alright?”

He gives her a look that says he doesn’t believe her, but Sol only shoots him a playful glare that makes him back off.

She opens her mouth to say something more, but a yawn interrupts her words. Letting out a tired sigh, she pinches the bridge of her nose before picking up the papers again.

“I have to get back to work, but we’re cool Keegan. Promise,” she says, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of her nose.

“I think you’ve worked enough Sol. Harder than anyone else on base these last few days, you’ve done more than enough,” Keegan pushes. Knowing Sol over the years meant he knew that once her mind was set, she wasn’t backing down no matter how exhausted she got. “You look like you were the one that got bit,” he tries to joke, but they both wince.

“Bad joke?”

“Horrible,” she snorts but lets out a heavy sigh. “I’m just so tired,” she sniffs. “But if something goes wrong, if I made a mistake somewhere, I would never forgive myself.” Her hand brushes over the piles of papers that had accumulated on her desk.

“Hey, hey. She’s okay, and that will have to be good enough for now,” he says, pulling Sol into a comforting hug. “Go get some rest, I’m sure your old grump misses you.”

That pulled a smile onto Sol’s face, and for the first time in 3 days, that familiar sunny glow returns to Sol, at least a tiny bit, replacing the dark clouds that surrounded her.

“Yeah, I’m sure he does,” she chuckles. “I could say the same for your wife.”

“Well, here’s to being good spouses then,” he smiles, and they both set off toward their respective partners.

~

Sol slips into the room, shutting it behind her with a soft click. All at once the tension eases from her body as she takes in the familiar sight of her room. Home. With all its familiar sights and scents, it's like an antidote to her aching pains.

The lights in the living room were still on, though she didn’t expect Simon to be asleep. It wasn’t often that he could fall asleep without her by his side.

Slipping off her shoes, she makes her way to the living room where Simon is settled on the couch, book grasped in his hand as he waited for her to get back. The light of the lamp paints him in a warm glow, hazel eyes meeting hers as though they were magnets. He heard her the moment she came in, but as she turned the corner his expression softened as it always did.

“Love,” he says, his voice low. It makes her almost want to sob in response, but she instead says nothing, rushing into his arms instead.

In an instant, any heavy thoughts her brain held onto dissipated like smoke in the air as Simon captured her in his arms.

“Alright?” he asks, eyes scanning her appearance protectively.

“More than alright, Si,” she says with a smile.

~

What wakes Simon and Sol up in the morning isn’t their usual alarm clock, obnoxious ringing filling the air, but instead a knock on the door, half an hour before they were supposed to be awake.

“What on Earth possessed someone to think it was a good idea to wake us up this early,” Sol groans, throwing an arm over her eyes to block out the light creeping through the curtains. Simon laughs, pressing a kiss to her cheek before getting out of bed.

“I’ll deal with it, get your sleep love. Though it probably won’t be for long,” he says, pulling his balaclava over his head.

Making his way over to the door, he opens it to find a young woman, a new recruit that arrived a few weeks back. Her eyes widen in shock as if not expecting him to be there.

“Uh, sir!” she stammers, saluting immediately.

“At ease, soldier. What is it?” he asks, trying to make his voice as neutral as possible. Though it clearly wasn’t working considering she looked like she was ready to turn tail and bolt out of there.

“Captain Elias tasked me to call you in for a briefing with 141 and Laswell, sir,” she says.

“That it?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Alright, tell them we’ll be down in 10,” he says, and she practically whirls around on her feet before making her way off. The whole thing made Simon almost laugh. Turning back to his wife, she sees her face buried between their pillows, snoring away.

“Love?” he asks, a hand smoothing down her arm soothingly. She only groans in response.

“What,” she huffs, burying her face deeper.

“We have a meeting in 10 with everyone else,” he says, which only makes her only groan louder.

“C’mon sweetheart, I’ll give you a treat later, yeah?” he says, and she immediately perks up like a puppy.

“Really? What?” she asks, a childish glimmer in her eye.

“That’s for me to know, and you to find out,” he grins.

~

They walk into the room where Elias and Merrick were standing, alongside Laswell and the rest of the 141.

“Thank you for coming in, we’re sorry to be sending you back into the field right after coming back home. But you’re the best people we got against this threat, we can’t risk anything less,” Elias says, a remorseful look in his eye.

“What you should be sorry about is waking us up at this godforsaken hour,” Sol complains, rubbing the sleep away from her eyes.

Elias glances at the clock with confusion. “You should’ve been awake by now regardless?”

“Case in point,” Sol grumbles, and Ghost nudges her lightly to which she makes a sour face in response. Hatter snorts at her friend's behaviour, waking up early was like pulling teeth to her. Though it made sense since she was always out and about late at night.

“Hey Soup, Price, Gaz,” she acknowledges, before spotting a certain blonde-haired woman she had only heard from and not seen in years.

"Kate!! I haven’t seen you in ages!” Sol says, giving the woman a hug that she warmly returns.

“Hey Sol, still see that you’re as bright as ever,” she says with a smile that Sol happily returns, a little less irritated by the morning wake-up call now.

“Alright,” Hatter says with a grin, “let’s get back to the task at hand, yeah? The faster we deal with these fucks, the sooner we can actually relax. What do you have for us, old man?” she says with a smirk, and Elias gives her a wicked side that caused chuckles all around.

“Reports from the mission 141 went on came in about sightings of Fed-Gadyuka presence 30 klicks off the original position of the old hospital, PID on the commander. We want you to bring him in,” he explains, screens lighting up with images of Commander Krov at a highlighted spot on the map.

“So soon? How were you able to track their position?” Sol says, eying the image warily.

“Brought in some new drones, undetectable even despite the Federation’s technology. We went out yesterday after getting briefed on the new details in the situation, came back 30 minutes ago,” Price explains, and Sol shoots him a glare.

“Ah, so you’re the reason why I had to be awake 30 minutes before my alarm,” Sol accuses, and Price puts up his hands in surrender.

“Alright starfire, calm down. I’ll get you coffee to make up for it, alright?”

“Still know my older old man? Or has dementia gotten to you already,” she snickers, which only makes Price roll his eyes in response.

“Only 6 years older, you muppet,” he retorts. “And it's two sugars with oat milk, yeah?” To which Sol nods, slight surprise on her face.

“Why are you guys here anyway, I thought you lot had headed back a week ago?” Sol asks.

“Laswell got important intel, figured it would be better to talk in person,” he explains.

“We also needed a team to do recon, considering some of our best people were out of commission, they were our best bet,” Elias explains. “It also means everyone can team up on this upcoming mission.” Everyone turns to him at that as he pulls up a map with highlighted points on the screen.

“We need your team to head out as soon as possible, today at 2100 hours at the latest. The sooner we can get this guy wrapped up, the less time he has to slip out of our grasp again,” Merrick interjects.

“You’ll head out in two teams. So far the squad with Sol, Hatter, Keegan and Ghost has been working so they’ll remain together. The other team will be composed of Captain Price, Gaz and Soap who will be leading the way 3 klicks ahead of your position for recon,” Elias explains.

“No Logan and Hesh?” Ghost asks, taking in the lack of the Walker brothers’ presence.

“Yes, what happened with close-air last time proves that they can detect and shoot us down, we can’t put anyone at risk. And any more people on the ground makes for less of a covert op,” Elias says. “You’re on your own, but I have faith,” he says, clapping Keegan on the back roughly.

“Hang on,” Keegan cuts in, turning to Hatter. “Are you sure you’re up for this?” he asks his wife. Though he didn’t doubt his wife’s strength, she had just been tested and experimented on for the last few days.

“I’m fine Keegan, this injury is nothing more than a scratch,” she says with a smirk. “Let’s get these sons of bitches.”

“Alright, everyone prep to head out then. We leave at 1900 hours,” Price orders, and they clear out of the room promptly.

~

Everyone got right to getting ready, whereas Price, Soap and Gaz had settled down for a quick nap before heading out into the field again.

“Am pure done in, lass,” Soap had said before scruffing up Sol’s hair and heading off. Not without Sol flipping him the bird, however, to which he only laughed.

Everyone had their own way of prepping for a mission, the little quirks that helped them do their best. Whether that’d be like Ghost, who just held his wife for a while as she did his eye paint. Or something niche like Soap who had to ironically enough take a bath because it ‘helped him relax and get into the zone’. Hatter definitely gave him shit for that one.

Regardless, everyone was ready to go at 1900 hours. Two armoured trucks rumbled into the parking garage.

With a signal from Price, they headed out into the night. And before long Ghost was driving off behind them.

~

“What a difficult life it is, being the best of the best,” Sol says haughtily, amusement dancing in her eyes as she fiddled with the little sun pendant on her AK-47. “We’re always being sent on missions, no break I tell you.” Hatter snorts in response, kicking her friend lightly.

“You joined the military, dumbass. You’ll get a break when you’re dead,” she says in response, and Sol sighs.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” she shakes her head, but the grin on her face is still there.

It definitely was a spur-of-the-moment thing, if she was being completely honest. She was on her way to being one of the top researchers in her field, with a research position already lined up for her after finishing grad school.

While she did take self-defence classes growing up, and even as an adult in between university classes, she never pictured herself here as a Sergeant in one of the most elite teams in the world.

Funny how life played out, but she was thankful. It led her to meet all these amazing people, as well as her husband, the love of her life.

As she was lost in thought, she spots a glint in the distance, and any aloof thoughts she had been pushed to the back of her mind.

“Hang on, Si,” she says, and Ghost slows down the vehicle immediately.

“What do you see?” Hatter says, eyes trailing to where Sol was looking.

“I saw something in the distance by that old house there, reflected off of the headlights as we were making the turn,” she says, turning to Hatter.

“This…is near the old hospital. There might still be stragglers who didn’t make it out in time,” Keegan thinks out loud.

“Or infected that didn’t make it out,” Hatter says with a grimace.

“Either way we need to check it out, something feels��off,” Sol says, and Simon immediately begins driving toward it.

Sol had a sharper intuition than most, more often than not those offputting feelings led them out of what would have been sticky situations.

“Radio in ahead to Captain Price, tell them to hold at their position for now,” Ghost tells Keegan who moves to do as he says.

“Bravo 0-6, this is Delta Team,” Keegan radios in.

“Go ahead Delta, talk to me,” Price’s voice filters through.

“Calling for you to hold your position, Sol spotted something off in the distance, we’re going to go check it out.”

“Do you need backup?” Price asks.

“Negative, we’ll radio in if things get messy,”

“Copy, stay safe out there you lot,” he says.

“Yes, sir,” Keegan responds before exiting the channel.

As he does, Ghost pulls up on the abandoned house.

“Alright, we go out and scope out the area. Sol, use the heartbeat scanner to see if anything gets picked up. If yes, we take them out, clear?” Ghost instructs, and they nod before exiting the vehicle.

“Got something on the scanner, seems to be from inside the house,” Sol says, the screening lighting up her face in green against the darkness.

“NVGs down, weapons ready. We breach in three,” Hatter orders, and they gather at the entrance.

“3, 2, 1,” she says, taking point and kicking the door in. Thoroughly they check all corners of the house, only to find old furniture and no people.

“Find anything?” Ghost calls out.

“Negative,” Sol answers.

“Same here.”

“Nothing.”

“That’s weird…they should be right here,” she says, standing at the spot highlighted.

“Mouse maybe?”

“Or a bigass rat in the floors?”

“No…this scanner was designed to recognize human heartbeats only. They’re here somewhere,” she says. “Was there a basement?” she asks the group.

“No entrance that anyone could see, no,” Hatter responds. “The roof maybe?”

“Maybe, but we’re not leaving here until we find them. They could compromise this entire mission,” Ghost orders, and everyone nods before exiting the house.

Just then, Sol hears a noise, a tiny shift that she almost misses.

“The hell was that noise,” Sol whispers, and Ghost’s eyes sharpen as they scan the surrounding area. His eyes zero in on a vent on the side of the abandoned house, one just big enough to hold a human if they were desperate enough.

His finger goes to his lips before his foot shoots out and kicks the vent sharply, and the noise of horror is audible to the entire group now. Kneeling down, he yanks open the vent, reaching in and dragging out a scrawny-looking man in a dirty doctor’s coat. The familiar emblem of the Gadyuka is stitched onto the left breast pocket.

In an instant, all weapons were pointed at the man as he lay on the ground frozen in fear.

“Tell us who you are, now,” Keegan barks, his voice low and menacing. This snaps the man out of his stupor as his arms are held up in fear, but he says nothing.

“Don’t make us repeat ourselves. With the crimes your organization has committed, we have zero reasons to treat you kindly,” Hatter snarls, kicking the man’s leg harshly. He screams out in pain at that, and a tear in his pants shows that it was tightly wrapped, previously injured at some point.

“I, I am a doctor,” he says, terror seeping into his words. His voice is thick with a Russian accent, further confirming that the foreign organization somehow arrived in North America undetected.

“What was your role on base, don’t think of lying. We’ll know,” Ghost says, towering over the man who looked nothing more than an ant sprawled on the floor.

“I…helped injured soldiers when they returned,” he says meekly, and Hatter presses her boot into the man’s foot making him scream in pain.

“Oh, don’t play games,” she sneers, “you truly expect us to believe you were some normie doctor who did routine check-ups? We know what that emblem signifies, you’re a high-ranking researcher there, most likely at the forefront of the virus development. So try again. You have one more chance, or we have many other…nice ways of making you talk,” she threatens, and the man whimpers as tears stream down his face.

He didn’t look like much before, but now he just looked pathetic. As if cowering behind a powerful organization meant you were anything more than a filthy rat.

“ALRIGHT, alright,” he exclaims. “I was the second lead researcher in the development of the virus, a mycologist. That’s it!”

“That’s it,” Hatter mutters before stomping on the man's leg, making him truly scream now.

“That’s it??? You create a virus that destroys people from the inside out, is highly contagious, and threatens the entirety of humanity on Earth and say ‘that’s it’?” She snaps, anger radiating from her body. Keegan places a hand on her shoulder cautiously, and luckily that is enough to ground her back to the present.

“Sorry,” she says to him, stepping away from the man.

“Bravo 0-6 this is Delta 0-5, we need you to head back to base ASAP, we found a researcher from Gadyuka hiding at an abandoned house, can’t risk him coming along,” Ghost radios in.

“Copy, 0-5. Headed back to base now,” Price replies.

“What’s that in your pocket,” Sol says as she notices a glint from his right pocket. The man’s eyes widen as he frantically tries to move the contents out of view. But Keegan is faster, swiftly moving to intercept the man and snatch it out of his pocket.

“NO!” the man shouts but can do nothing more in his injured state.

Standing back up, everyone moves to see what Keegan had. In his hand lay a petri dish, safely secured and covered by a lid. In it was a sample of fungal mycelium, its spider-like threads stuffing the petri dish full.

Sol gasps and takes it from Keegan’s grasp, looking at it with an analytical eye.

“This…this is a game changer. Papers and bloodwork can only tell so much, but an actual sample? This could be the key to understanding the virus on a biochemical level, and maybe be able to develop a vaccine should it be spread throughout the populations,” Sol says excitedly, a childlike glow on her face.

“Looks like you were useful after all,” Ghost says before swiftly knocking the man out with the butt of his gun.

“You…really like doing that, don’t you,” Hatter says with a grimace, rubbing her head as if she was the one that was hit.

Ghost only hums, “Effective, innit?”, but still gives Hatter an apologetic look regardless.

“Let’s get this fuck back to the base and reconvene with Elias, yeah?” Keegan says, hauling the man over his shoulder like he was nothing more than a sack of coal, carrying him back to the truck.

This was the beginning of Gadyuka’s end.

[pancake-breakfast]

Time to finish of Volume 5. Let's see if we can't get some more crazies on the playing board.

Stream-of-consciousness thoughts for TriMax Vol. 5, Chapters 5-6 below.

Chapter 5: Death Deal

Everyone's screaming.... Blood is everywhere.... Picking up right where we left off, I see....

Holy fuck, was running over his face with the bike necessary, Legato??? Geez, man.

Creechur Vash is displeased.

CREECHUR VASH IS DISPLEASED!!!

...I'm sorry, but Legato feeling legitimately ill and being moved to tears of sadness that Midvalley would turn a gun on him and "betray Master Knives" is freaking hilarious and I absolutely LOL'ed. Gods, this man is such a mess.

I do feel bad for Midvalley, though. I feel like, in another life, on another world, maybe he could have just played beautiful music.

Dude is just staring and Wolfwood and crying. I'm telling ya, he's SUPER jealous. He wishes Knives trusted him as much as Knives is trusting Wolfwood right now, which is funny 'cause it's Wolfwood.

This look, though.... Find you a man who stares down your enemies the way Wolfwood stares down Legato. Even though he might not actually be able to see very well right now.

Got rid of them...? As in... Vash and Meryl? Vash and... Wolf... wood?? What did Zazie do?

Butterflies?

Ohhhhhhhhhh

Wait, I never *did* figure out why they were trying to get rid of Zazie. Glad Zazie's having fun with bodies, though.

It was because they didn't want Zazie to report back to Legato, huh?

Is... Gauntlet resisting Legato??

YES HE IS!!! GOOD FOR HIM!!!

Meanwhile, Creechur Vash is just waiting for all of this to die down, I guess?

Ohhhhh. Yeah, keeping Crechur Vash contained is gonna be a task for anyone.

Gotta have a good ol' Mexican Standoff.

Ahhh, I know there's so much going on here and it's all bad, but he really is kinda cute like this.

MERYL TO THE RESCUE!!!

Gods, she's screaming, she's crying, she's severely outgunned and/or outmatched by every player on the field.... She may be small, but her power is adequate.

AND SHE AIMS RIGHT FOR LEGATO!!! GET 'IM, GIRL!!!

It's enough for Gauntlet to pull the trigger on his gun....

...aaaand all hell breaks loose.

I like how even though Zazie's new form is more feminine, it's still like, "What is gender? I don't care. My gender is worms."

Legato appears to still be alive. Human skulls are more durable than we give them credit for.

Ohhhh, Stampede referenced this little speech of Legato's.

WTH happened to his face? Like, I know he just got shot, but I'm having trouble figuring out how he went from this...

...to this....

...in the space of a panel.

Ah, that's gotta be Midvalley's corpse. Meryl's right to scream. There's no coming back from seeing that.

I like the little stringy lines implying Legato's power.

Of course that bastard would be like, "Oh, you created a friend? Gotta make sure you pay for that by your friend's hand." He's a very sick fuck.

Creechur Vash is still displeased.

The only one here who hasn't quite seen this yet is Meryl, and she's already freaking out. Even Legato looks terrified. Glad his face is back to normal, though.

Ohhhhh, shit. The Nail is here.

Chapter 6: Let Us Walk The Path To Redemption

Ohhh, Vashie, babygirl....

Legato's little monster-puppet handler can feel pain??

Oop, something going on here is bringing Vash back out of creechur mode.

She has a point. People with a strong enough death wish can cause quite a mess seeking their own destruction.

Nevermind, Vash has turned into a lightning bug with too many wings.

Ohhhh, baby Vash....

I do love the use of white space here, though. This happens a lot when we fall into Vash's memories, and it really emphasizes his loneliness.

That's too many bullets. The image of bullets falling like tears....

Aaaand Legato is ruining the moment with his madness. Gods, this wet cat is gonna punish himself even harder now because of all this, and other people might actually have to watch that.

I like how they have yet to actually show her face.

Goshdarn, someone wrap Vash in a weighted blanket and feed him something nice and give him all the hugs.

YOU CAN DO IT, VASH!!!

Eyyyyy, body horror....

I love that he's focusing on the kindness of those in the past to pull himself through. He has no idea what the future holds... for himself, for mankind, for the companions who, after this, might not want anything to do with him ever again. But he's doing what he can to focus on people's kindness....

And... he's protecting Gauntlet, isn't he? Of course he is. Gauntlet, who's so tired from everything that's happened tonight, he probably wants to die. He was expecting to die. He lost his only friend by his own hand because of Legato. And now the man he came here to kill is protecting him.

OUT OF BULLETS, YA BASTARD!!! (The sound effect here is "ga-chi, ga-chi, ga-chi" over and over again. Def not a gun firing sound.)

Awww, man! Creepy weird guy carrying around Legato has a knife arm.... Whyyyyyy.

Look at his stupid face, though. He's enjoying this.

Ok, that's too many teeth. Please return some to wherever you got them from.

Did... Airship Lady shoot him through the head?

Yeah, she did.

Hahahahaha, the first time we see her fully revealed, and she's just being a baby after falling in the sand.

LOL, Meryl....

You know what? Legato deserves to be talked down to like this. He really, really does.

"Secret Number 13!" But that doesn't add up. Literally. In chapter 5 of the last volume, Wolfwood said they only had three left: Zazie, Midvalley, and Hoppered. They'd only been through six in the previous chapters, and adding Wolfwood to that mix only makes 10. Unless he's counting Legato and Knives, but in the last volume didn't think they wouldn't actually come out to fight??? Or was trying to mislead Vash on their numbers, since he said that one out loud but this one's in his head??? Very confused. Fix your math, Nightow.

Ah, that's... that's a lot of nails....

"You've really been losing it lately." You know it's bad when even the other bad guys are like, "Yyyyyeeeeaaaahhh, sorry about our buddy over here. He's... he's a little crazy. We're just gonna take him home so he doesn't do anything else stupid today. We'll resume tormenting you later."

Mannnn, if Bluesummers could hear Knives say this right now, he'd start crying all over again for a completely different reason...

I'm honestly not sure what happened in this explosion here.

Even Legato's little pet monster-thing is looking not so good. One's spine really should stay inside their body.

Looks like Vash is getting ahold of himself ok over there.

Meryl is soooo brave here. She's terrified to the point of tears, but she grits her teeth and readies herself.

Vash looks spent.

Nothing gets Vash's attention quite like someone in dire need.

Dude. Gauntlet. Why you gotta be like that to Vash!? You know and you're still like, "Eh, I even know it's wrong of me to do so, but I'm smiling about it."

And yet Vash STILL holds his hand so Gauntlet doesn't have to die alone.

Wolfwood and Meryl running to Vash's side now that it's safe. Meryl immediately inquiring after Vash's health. <3 <3 <3

BRB, finding a way to give hugs to a fictional character.

Hahahahaha, Milly. She's sooooo enthusiastic. I love her.

Is that... Zazie in the crutches??

LOL, yeah. But how did Zazie get ahold of a black wig? What a weirdo.

Heh. In spite of everything, here's Vash dragging Wolfwood to a makeshift funeral for the makeshift graves for two people who adamantly tried to kill them.

...No comment. I'm just gonna put this here. Yeah.

LOL, Vash is calling Wolfwood on his bullshit again.

This panel is a good panel. I'm going to put it here, too.

"You break it, you fix it." The path to redemption, indeed. Onward with the manual labor!

Archive

Trigun Volume 1: Covers + 1-3, 3 Detailed Thoughts, 4, 4 DT, 5-6, 5-6 + DT, 6 DT, 7-8, 9-10 || Volume 2: Covers + Extras, 1, 1 Supplemental Research, 2-4, 5-6, 7-8

TriMax Volume 1: Covers + 1-2, 2 DT, 3-4, 3 DT, 5-6 || Volume 2: Covers + 1, 2-4, 5, 6-7 || Volume 3: Covers + 1-3, 4-5, 6-7 || Volume 4: Covers + 1-2, 3-5, 6-7 || Volume 5: Covers + 1-2, 3-4, 3 DT