#bc what else can he do expect throw himself at the next threat only this time it's final

[rocicrew]

haha don't you ever think about naomi rejecting a leadership position because she knew it would cost her too much and then making that decision because it was the only right choice to make at the time and ending the series with her Very much paying that cost and just sob

[duuhrayliegh]

watch your six - part five

pairing: eventual bucky x reader (they’re together in the next chapter i stg)

warnings: language (several f bombs bc i feel like bucky would be liberal w them), sam and bucky being little shits, bad nicknames, 

word count: just under 2500

a/n: long awaited but it’s finally here! i’m super proud of this one :) i hope y’all like it also this was the first time i’ve written something like this so constructive criticism please. i hope i did the characters justice 

p.s.: my requests are still open babes! i’m working on the next part of this series and also possibly continuing TFCL ;) my tag lists are still open as well

please like and reblog if you enjoyed the story 

xoxo ray

series m.list

ray’s m.list

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

The tension in the room was palpable. “What do you mean you know her, Buck?” Steve questioned. Bucky’s eyes were flitting around the room, landing on each face of bewilderment. He honestly didn’t know what he meant but that, it kind of just came out. Where the fuck did that come from? Who is this woman?

“Uh, hello? What’s going on in that cyborg brain of yours?” Sam interjected quickly, to which he received a sharp glare from both Bucky and Steve. Sam shrugged his shoulders and a quiet snort was heard from across the room.

“He’s got a point, Terminator.” Tony said as he plopped himself into one of the rollie chairs. “You can’t just say something like that and then not explain it.” Bucky’s brows furrowed and he expelled a grunt as his response to Tony.

“Bucky, you’ve got to give us something to go on here.” Natasha said calmly as she eyed an increasingly agitated Bucky.

Since coming back from Wakanda and being brought into the compound, Steve, Sam and Natasha have learned how to read Bucky. Steve has always been able to read the one hundred and six year old, they have shared life experience. Natasha was is a trained master assassin, trained in the Red Room by the Winter Soldier. One of her most valuable skills is her ability to read the emotions of anyone around her. And Sam, well he still leads a support group down at the VA. Being a war-torn veteran himself, he knows what it’s like to have to deal with the memories.

“Look, I don’t know what I meant by it.” Bucky finally said, throwing his hands above his head in exasperation. “It just came out, ya know? I didn’t process it before I said it and now, it’s out there. And to top it off, I don’t have the fucking memories there to back it up. They’re definitely there, but they aren’t just presenting themselves to me on a silver platter.” The group around him silenced.

Bucky was known for being the quiet, brooding type. His murder stare was comically famous around the compound. Sam constantly picked on Bucky about it, so hearing the man spout more than a few words at a time was a shocking experience for all of them.

“You know, there is a way that we can know what even your own mind doesn’t want you to know.” Tony said, darting his eyes over to Steve, who stood stoically in front of the large monitor.

“Goddamn, Tony! We said this isn’t an episode of FRIENDS!” Sam shouted.

“He won’t like that Tony. You know he won’t.” Natasha cut in quickly.

“But, if it works and it tells us if this woman knows anything, then it’s worth a shot.” Tony shot back.

“Tony. No. He’s already been through that and you want to subject him to it again?” Bucky was listening intently to their conversation, trying to figure out what they were referring to.  Natasha seemed adamant that Bucky would not be a fan of whatever it was. Tony, as usual, couldn’t care less.

“What are we talking about?”

“Wanda.”

“Who’s Wanda again?”

“She’s the witch.”

“We have a witch on our team? That’s not possible, there’s no such thing as witches and wizards.”

“Uh, yeah there is, cyborg.”

“No, there's not bird brain.”

“Yeah. There is, dumbass. She’s the one who does the hand thing and then there’s the crazy red glow around her? She’s got long hair? Dating the android?”

“There’s an android on the team?” Bucky was still getting to know everyone on the team, but he was positive he would know if there was a fucking android on the team.

“Yeah, the guy with the yellow glowy thing embedded in his forehead? Do you pay attention at all, Bucky? He’s dating Wanda, the witch with the red glowy hand thing?” Sam was waving his hands in front of his face and gesturing to his forehead.

“There’s no fucking way. Steve? Is there an android on the team?” Bucky turned to Steve, expecting an answer. All of the sudden, a red mass phased through the wall behind Steve. Vision appeared, looking quizzically around the room.

“Did someone ask for me?” His British accent carried through the room, once again causing the room to silence and turn to Bucky. Bucky’s lips were pursed, disgruntled that Sam was once again right in their little squabbles.

“Alright fine, but there’s not a witch right?”

“If you’re referring to Ms. Maximoff, then no. She simply manipulates molecular polarity allowing her to alter the reality around her.” Vision said it as if Bucky was meant to understand it. When in reality, Bucky was still getting over the fact fangirling that there was an android talking to him.

“However, if calling her a witch makes you more comfortable,” Vision paused and turned towards the doorway on the other end of the room, “I believe you should ask her permission before doing so.” He raised his hand causing Bucky to follow its direction.

“Hey Tony. Friday said you wanted to see me?” Wanda glided into the room, doing a quick survey of its occupants. Her gaze eventually landed on the vibrant being beside Steve. “Vis, you left in the middle of us making dinner. We’ve talked about that.”

“Yes, do forgive me, my love. However, I believe your expertise is required outside of the kitchen.” Wanda’s orbs flicked to Steve’s first and then to Tony’s, waiting for instructions.

“We want you to go inside Barnes’ mind and retrieve memories about someone for us.” Tony stated plainly. Bucky’s eyes widened and his fear grew. She can do that? Who the fuck was going to tell me that? Can she read my mind too? Is she listening now?

“That’s not exactly how it works, Tony.”

“It doesn’t matter because I never agreed to that, Stark.” Bucky said firmly. He was tired of his brain being put in a blender. He was finally getting comfortable in his own body again. He was gaining more and more control over his mind every day. Granted, he wasn’t sleeping because of the nightmares.

No, not nightmares, because of the memories. Why the fuck would he willingly subject himself to that during the daylight? No, his pain, though constant, was only to be shown at night, when he was completely alone and there’s no chance that he could hurt anyone else.

“If this is the only way that we can know for sure, then we need to do it.” Tony pushed, “You know I’m right, Cap. After what happened with the Sokovia Accords, even though they aren’t monitoring us as closely as they could be, they’re still watching. And if we storm in there without any good reason to, then it’s our asses on the line.”

“Hey, I don’t remember giving you authority over my brain. So what the fuck gives you the right to try and get me to do this shit?” Bucky stood as he spoke, “You’re heroes, goddamn it. It’s your fucking job to save people who need you to. So you should fucking do it. With or without a goddamn reason, you prick.” He shoved the chair away from him and stormed out of the room, passed Wanda who watched with a pained expression.

“He’s right, Tony.” Steve said quietly.

“About what, Cap?”

“We shouldn’t have to have a reason to do our jobs.”

“All I’m saying is that if he has information about this woman that could help us, we need to know it.” Tony glanced back to Wanda, “What if he’s enhanced like Wanda and Pietro and we go in there guns blazing. What happens if she perceives us as a threat? What then Cap?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, Tony.” Steve was the Captain, so ultimately it was his decision. This left Tony incredibly unsatisfied, giving him a reason to implement a plan of his own. “We leave tonight. Be ready to leave in three hours.”

The room emptied quickly, everyone having their own rituals to do before departing on a mission. Steve and Sam were the last to remain in the room. “Do you really think this is a good idea?” Sam asked in a hushed whisper.

“It’s the only one I got, Sam.”

“Are you going to let him come on the mission?” Steve made a face as he clenched his jaw. “I mean, Tony has a point. If he knows something, I think we should try to figure out what it is.”

“We can’t ask him to do that, Sam. You know we can’t.”

“I’m not saying that we should, but if you bring him on this mission and he remembers something in the heat of the moment?” Sam turned his body to fully face Steve, “What are we going to do then?” Sam brought up a valid point, but Steve knew he wouldn’t be able to stop Bucky from coming on the mission.

“Like I said, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

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

It was somewhat therapeutic for Bucky to be sharpening his knives. He sat quietly on one of the overstuffed couches in the compound’s common area. A wide array of matte black knives was laid out on the coffee table in front of him. He held one in his hand, raking it against a damp stone to create a slick silver edge on the blade. His solitude didn’t last long, not that he expected it to, especially here in the compound.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve ever formally met. I’m Wanda.” She stuck her hand out for Bucky to shake which he did, with great caution. There is no telling what this woman is capable of. I don’t need to get too comfortable with her.

“Bucky.” He kept his replies short, in the hopes of deterring her from wanting to interact with him. He knows that is exactly what Steve and his therapist in Wakanda told him to stop doing, but that’s irrelevant.

“I know what Tony was suggesting for us to do isn’t ideal, Bucky.” Bucky shuddered unintentionally, his fear rolling off of him in waves. “I just wanted to let you know, I would never do that to you. Not unless you asked me to and even then I don’t know if I would.” Bucky turned his head to face her. She seemed sincere, but then again people are always rotten on the inside.

“I promise, I won’t.”

“I’ve heard one too many promises in my day, Wanda.” He shifted back to his original task, flipping another knife into the palm of his hand and dragging it along the stone. Wanda nods and lifts herself to her feet, about to retreat to the kitchen.

“It’s the nightmares, isn’t it?” Bucky froze mid-drag, eyes boring holes into the table in front of him, not responding to Wanda. “The reason you don’t want me in your head?”

“What do you know of nightmares, witch?” Bucky sneered defensively.

“You would be surprised what I know of nightmares, Bucky.” She approached the back of the couch, curling her hands around the plush fabric. “My brother, Pietro, and I, volunteered for the experiments with HYDRA.” Bucky whipped his head around to face her, immediately registering her on a higher threat level. She lifted her right hand and a glowing red ball danced between her fingers as dynamic vines licked up her palm.

“We thought that they were there to help after everything that we went through in Sokovia.” Her accent thickened with each word, “After Stark’s bomb didn’t go off, we thought it meant we were destined to take him down. So we went to the closest freedom fighter group we could find.”

Bucky watched as she dropped her hand, the red energy dissipating immediately. “We weren’t the only ones, though. There were hundreds of us. Pietro and I just so happened to be the ones that were able to withstand what they put us through.” Their eyes met, gaze holding as she continued speaking. “Then, I watched their future. And in their ideal future, we weren’t there. None of us. No Avengers or enhanced people. No humans whatsoever.” She swallowed thickly, “That’s when we knew they lied. We had suspicions earlier, but we just did what we were told so we could get what we wanted.”

“What exactly did you want?”

“We wanted Stark dead.” She held Bucky’s eyeline. “But now, my brother is dead. And all I want is to see HYDRA's downfall at my hands.” She glanced back down at her hands, “What Tony wanted me to do,” hesitating as she continued, “I know he just wants me to go through your memories and pick out the ones specific to Agent Libra, but that’s not how it works.” Bucky looked at her and then leaned back into the couch cushions, gesturing for her to continue. “The way that I would go about that would be to have you experience the whole thing over again.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean,” Wanda sucked in a deep breath, “It’s like a lucid dream. Your body would be moving and you wouldn’t be in control of it. Any action that you did at that particular moment in history would be reenacted exactly as it occurred.”

“So, if I were to do this, it would be like I was the Soldier again?”

“If that’s what it felt like, then yes.” A shiver ran up Bucky’s spine, he definitely didn’t want that. “I just wanted you to know what you would be getting yourself into if you did decide to allow me access to your memories.” A stiff nod was all she received in return.

He knows she’s just trying to be nice but he can’t help but want to run away and hide in a dark room. Bucky has been through so much because of that freedom fighter organization, he couldn’t fathom people actually volunteering their bodies for their twisted scientific experiments.

“Thanks for letting me know, Ms. Maximoff.” Even though Bucky wanted nothing to do with this woman next to him, his mother still raised him to be respectful of everyone.

“Oh, you can call me Wanda.” She smiled as she began her approach to the kitchen yet again. One thing was still nagging Bucky and he had to know the answer.

“Hey, quick question Wanda.” She stopped and turned to face him, sending a small hum in question towards him. “Are you a witch?”

Her head tilted thoughtfully, “Yes, I am.” She left it at that, leaving Bucky with wide eyes and a mouth that was hanging open. Goddamn it, I fucking hate it when Sam is right.

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

watch your six tag list

@indigo123789 @austynparksandpizza 

[theoriginalladya]

Kiss Prompts: By the campire/longing for Rhys/Kaidan

from this list

On AO3 here

Okay, here we go!  The first thing I’ve actually posted officially for Rhys Shepard and Kaidan.  Let’s do this!!!

This one is set in Wyoming (where Rhys lives with his grandparents) post-BAaT just as he’s starting to get himself back on track with school.  Rhys is 19, Kaidan is 20.

~~~

“So, this is the Wild West, huh?”

Rhys snorts softly and feeds a log to the campfire. When he retakes his seat a moment later, Kaidan hands him a bottle of beer.  They clink them together quietly in a wordless toast.  Only then does Rhys takes a long pull.  “As wild as Wyoming can get these days, I suppose.”  

The fire flickers as a stiff breeze blows through. Rhys tilts his head to the sky, inhaling deeply.  The chill in the air hints at a threat of a storm, but they have the small cabin to retreat to if it comes to that.  For now, conditions are safe enough they can sit outside and enjoy the mostly clear skies and breathtaking view of the stars above.  Using the log behind him as a back rest, he settles down and chuckles softly. “Surely you have views like this back home?”

Sitting to Rhys’ right and using the log as his perch, Kaidan rests his arms across his legs as he hunches forward and nods.  “We do.  Dad and I used to go camping sometimes when I was younger.  Cat Peak, Gold Peak.”  His voice is low, thoughtful, but there is a hint of a smile on his lips as he stares into the fire.  “Seems like a lifetime ago.”

A lifetime.  Rhys cannot hide the ripple of a shiver that chases down his spine.  Before BAaT.  A lifetime and a half ago.  A question tumbles around inside his head, but for now he keeps it to himself.  They are friends, good friends even; without Kaidan, Rhys might not have made it out of Jump Zero alive, and vice versa.  But that said, there are some lines he refuses to cross no matter how close they were, or are.  How long has it been?  Two years since we last talked or saw one another?  A lot has changed since then.  

So, instead he falls back upon a topic that arose during their initial meeting nearly five years ago.  “Canada, huh?  Ever find any dinosaurs up there?”

Silence returns briefly until it is broken by a bark of laughter.  “I swear, you have dinosaurs on the brain!  Do you ever study anything else?”

Affecting a look of disappointment and hurt, though he feels anything but, Rhys half-turns toward him to protest.  “Hey, now!  It’s a fair question.  I mean, I found one around here when I was a kid.  Why not you?  You live in an area that is well known for them!”

“Actually, I don’t,” Kaidan replies around a laugh. “Most have been found in Alberta, not BC.  East of us, next province over.”

Rhys scowls.  “You just didn’t look hard enough or in the right places!”

“I didn’t look for them at all,” Kaidan reiterates around another soft snort.  “That’s your thing, not mine.”

“What was your thing then?”

“Hockey.”

Rolling his eyes heavenward, Rhys collapses back against the log.  “Of course, it was.”  

Kaidan uses his knee to nudge into Rhys’ shoulder a moment later, still laughing.  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“A typical Canadian thing,” Rhys corrects.

“I’m sorry?”

“As is that!”  Rhys downs the rest of his bottle and sets it aside before jumping to his feet.  

Kaidan’s laughter is not so silent nor subtle as he drinks.  “And you aren’t stereotypical?” he challenges, then points at Rhys with the neck of his beer bottle.  “Your cowboy hat is at the top of the list.  So’s your coat.”

Brushing his hands over the lined denim jacket, Rhys’ scowl darkens.  “This coat is really warm, perfect for the conditions out here.  And this hat,” he lifts it into his hand and runs the fingers of his other hand around the edge of the brim, “was a gift.  I like this hat, thank you very much.”  He tries to take a step forward, but the world starts to spin around him and he throws both hands out to regain his balance, nearly losing the hat into the fire.  

Kaidan snickers.  “What about those boots?”

Lips pursing into a thin line, Rhys focuses on the tips of his well-worn cowboy boots.  “Comfortable.  Don’t you dare make fun of my boots!”  He reaches over and slams his hat down on top of Kaidan’s head as an afterthought.

“Hey!”

Kaidan’s protest triggers a giggle from Rhys who pulls up his omni-tool in a quick motion.  “Look at me!”  His friend obliges without hesitation, allowing Rhys to snap a picture of him in the hat.  

Apparently, it is the wrong action to take?  Kaidan lunges toward him and the omni-tool, but the hat falls down over his eyes and he stumbles before makes it.  For just a moment, time slows around them.  Rhys’ lungs seize up as the predicament becomes clear, and he reacts out of instinct, tossing out a protective field of energy that wraps around his companion to not only stops his momentum, but hold him in place until Rhys grasps him by the arm and tugs him away from the edge of the fire.

What he does not expect as they end up eye to eye, nose to nose, is the immediate rush of heat to his cheeks or the flutter of butterflies inside his chest.  Swallowing past a sudden tightness in his throat, he reaches up to flick the underside of the brim of his hat with his fingers just enough so Kaidan’s whiskey-colored gaze meets his.  His breath catches in his chest and he freezes like a deer caught in crosshairs of a rifle.

But where Rhys expects to find the situation become one of embarrassment or awkwardness, he instead is met by something completely unexpected.  He swears the look meeting his is the same one from BAaT in those last days before everything fell apart around them; the one that left Rhys’ tongue tied at the most inconvenient and embarrassing moments …  

From one moment to the next, the distance between them – or what little remains of it – closes.  Kaidan slides a hand around the back of Rhys’ head, fingers combing through his hair yet carefully avoiding his amp port.  At the same time, Rhys grasps Kaidan by his hips, slipping his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.  His gaze drops to Kaidan’s lips as he notices the scars at the corner twitch slightly. Warm breath fans across his face and somewhere around them, a soft moan echoes.  Who it comes from, he has no idea.

“Kaid –?”

The first touch of their lips is brief, hesitant, as if testing the water before diving into a pool.  But what starts as a gentle, slow, and searching shifts to something far more scorching and desperate in the beat of a heart.  Jolts of electricity sizzle through him, leaving no limbs, no nerves untouched.  The kiss lasts only for a moment, but when Kaidan pulls away and touches their foreheads together, Rhys is left gasping loudly for breath.  

“Rhys …”

Opening his eyes, Rhys shakes his head just enough to cut him off.  “Don’t,” he pleads.

Kaidan appears rattled.  “Look, I’m sor-.”

Hands still in Kaidan’s pockets, Rhys tugs his hips as close as he can, swallows tightly, then murmurs, “Do it again …”

[godkilller]

@izzabizz139

I wanna hear you rant about the Gin vs Hitsugaya anime fight bc I love seeing your pov and you clearly write better than whoever extended that scene :) pretty please

          out of character.  DON’T ENABLE ME SO MUCH !!  No but I cackled when I first saw this ask because oh my god, clearly you saw a taste of my annoyance about the anime adaptation -- no, adaptation implies it was accurate, I’ll say the anime’s take was “inspired by” the manga’s quick run-in. I’ll start by saying this moment is supposed to be a bit important considering, via the audience’s point of view, THIS IS THE FIRST WE SEE OF TWO CAPTAIN-RANKED SHINIGAMI CLASHING. The only other captain-involved fight we’ve seen thus far in the manga is Kenpachi  ( who is an outlier and should not be counted... no, I joke... but, still, Ichigo was not an equal to him, his sword was sliced through like butter. )  The whole reason I enjoyed this encounter between Toshiro and Gin was simply this; it wasn’t some fancy multi-chaptered fight. IN THE MANGA, THERE ARE ONLY TWO BLOWS MADE. One, by Toshiro, to begin the fight. The second, to end it, is Gin’s strike.

          I want you to know that I’ve rewatched this specifically to answer this ask, and only due to this, as I wouldn’t have ever sought it out otherwise. HONOR MY SACRIFICE.

          Read more for length. I’m merciful.

          In the anime, they monologue at each other, and it’s mostly a combination of Toshiro making three separate death threats  ( he starts this off by saying “I’ll kill you before Hinamori arrives” and then goes on rewording it each time, and then also repeats the death-threat he gave Gin prior to this conflict about “I’ll kill you if Hinamori bleeds” )  and then also Gin and Izuru talking about how truly powerful and amazing Toshiro is -- no, this isn’t me being bitter or petty, I literally shit you not, Gin has a line that is legit “AS EXPECTED FROM HITSUGAYA TOSHIRO, CAPTAIN OF THE TENTH DIVISION, A CHILD PRODIGY OF TH' SORT THAT ONLY COMES ALONG ONLY ONCE EVERY FEW CENTURIES. HOW VEEEERY DANGEROUS. YOU’RE SERIOUS, AIN’T YA?” like don’t get me wrong, love a good sarcastic little shit comment like that, but the amount of times the anime pumps Toshiro up like he’s their shinest new cash cow ( and he is, at this point, it is not even 50 episodes into the series and they’ve realized everyone likes him and he’s jumped to high ranks in popularity polls... earning him filler spotlights, and eventually his very own non-canon movie )  so everything coming out of Gin’s mouth feels like more bullshit than necessary. Izuru’s already literally monologued, internally, how powerful and amazing Toshiro is anyways. Why this ?

          Not to mention that, prior to saying that long-winded shit, Gin’s haori changed length three times  ( and once it was longer than his entire body by several feet, and no not in a ‘to show motion’ way )  and most importantly Shinso was drawn, consistently, at katana-length for the duration of their little spat where the following, too, happened: Gin frog-leaps after doing a backflip, Toshiro gives Gin two (2) haircuts, Gin ruins some floorboards and gives Toshiro at least one splinter in his arm, Toshiro whilst wearing socks lands on Shinso’s blunt edge and pushes the sword down with his footsie because that’s how that works, there’s another backflip somewhere in there that Gin doesn’t need to be doing, twirl, twirl, and ballet, Gin’s face elongates until his chin is bigger than his face, Gin spends ten+ seconds purely dodging very close strikes to his face as Toshiro is the only one making breathy growly and ‘tsuuaaah’ sounds, there is a brief moment of no gravity as Toshiro keeps hacking at Gin midair and Gin blocks it over and over again but they still stay in the air but they’re not standing or jumping or using reiatsu they’re just like, momentum-locked I don’t fucking know, Gin frowny faces as he blocks because like somehow this kid who doesn’t even have more reiatsu than him, whose arm strength should not be an issue, is like. making him nervous?? as sword sparks fly. if you know me at all you know I hate when they fuckin’ firework sparkler-ify swords clashing.

          Anyways, all of this happens whilst Shinso is the wrong length and Gin’s hair is getting purpler by the second and this entire thing is somehow a big jack-off to Toshiro’s immense strength even though he’s screaming and wailing at Gin like a child and Gin’s just a vessel at this point to Enhance Toshiro, which, fine, okay, but at least be more accurate with it god damn. ANYWAYS,

          THEY JOUST. They literally run at each other, swords centered, and run past / to the side of one another. Jousting. “Cause that’s how that works. No slashes, no cutting motion. Just swords centered, because the animators were like “no worries guys I know swordfighting basics that’s a legit pose” yeah it is WHEN STATIONARY. Not rUNNING IT DOWN.

          And then Gin’s sleeve is cut, somehow, from the Jousting, because wow Toshiro wow wow wowowowow, and then Toshiro comes back and starts wailing at Gin again and Gin blocks it, again, and it’s all very annoyingly repetitive, and Gin’s frowning and sparks are flying and Gin’s using Shinso, the katana-length wakizashi I guess, with two hands because like I said, the animators knew basics and basics are “katana are used two-handed” like. Okay, you’re not wrong, but I cannot stress this enough: SHINSO IS NOT A KATANA. It’s shorter and meant to be used single-handed!!!! sTop!!! So then Gin rips off the tattered part of his sleeve and throws it at Toshiro, who swipes it away from his face using his Zanpakuto because that’s intelligent and a piece of cloth was definitely threatening enough to use your sword to bat it away  ( btw, Hitsugaya wasn’t holding his sword with two hands at this precise moment, so he could have just... used his other hand )  and then Gin goes in for the classic “stabby stabby rapidly at you while the animation gets a little breather because we repeat this cycle a few times with flashy bgs and phew money made” ... WE ARE FOUR MINUTES AND THIRTY SECONDS INTO THIS FIGHT BY THE WAY. Gin does this for seventeen (17) agonizing seconds straight. Yes, I counted. That was sixteen and a half too many seconds for me, personally.

          Toshiro somehow lassos Shinso whilst Gin is stabby stabby-ing with Hyourinmaru’s chain component. I say component like it’s somehow some type of beauty guru’s lipstick holder, but really am I that wrong ? When else has he ever used this feature ? Anyways, he lassos Shinso because yeehaw I guess, god I’m falling apart at this point can y’all tell????? I need a drink.

          and so, because now Toshiro has Gin’s sword somehow trapped with chain even though it’s just looped around it, he backflips over Gin for a cool trickshot, no blow issued, just vibes, and Gin uses a big brain moment to tug Shinso and the chains slide off. okay now what. We’re past five minutes into this fight, nonstop.

          SOUNDS LIKE A GOOD TIME FOR GIN TO PAUSE AND APPRECIATE TOSHIRO AGAIN! “I see, I shouldn’t have underestimated you, HItsugaya Toshiro” I’m starting to have a feeling Gin’s VA was told to just wing these lines because the amount of times he fills silences / Gin’s mouth movements with Toshiro’s long-ass name is astounding, he’s definitely drawing blanks here but he sure as hell knows one thing: that damn ice-boy’s name. He continues by saying “I suppose I’ll end up regretting it afterwards.”

          Toshiro says that’s not enough, and it’s really dramatic and cool. His eyes even glow all icy and blue and pretty, like his flowy reiatsu. Aesthetic points were gifted entirely to Toshiro’s animations in this scene. Gin was finished in MS Paint and each new scene they had to draw Shinso from memory and try to remember what hue of purple his hair was at gunpoint. Toshiro lets off a big wave of reiatsu and then it vanishes, and he jumps up reaaaally high. like this guy’s flying. his eyes arent glowing anymore that’s sad. Bring Back Glowing Eyes For Strong Shinigami 2k21.

          Toshiro releases his Shikai, and it’s badass, the sky darkens, Izuru looks distinctly more worried than usual, and Gin’s frowning with his teeth out like Bugs Bunny’s having a bad day, all is right in the world. Toshiro and his released Shikai have a nice moment for the Pics, and a big epic freeze frame blur moment happens with it all coiled and swirling around him. Wrow!  ( click the ‘wrow’ it’s a link to my exact reaction )  Izuru narrates for the third time about how powerful Toshiro is, his reiatsu, his Zanpakuto being a deity who is only unlocked every few centuries. The strongest ice-type sword. Pardon the pun, but that’s... you could say, so cool.

          It can even control the weather. So hey, next time it’s rainy, cold, icy, or snowing and you’re unhappy, it’s time to direct a big fuck you at Toshiro.

          Gin dodges the first dragon, and blocks the second with Shinso because blocking water and ice with a sword makes sense right? This actually takes a solid amount of seconds as Gin cuts through the entire length of this ice dragon noodle. Things dissipate, and pause, too, to really drag this out. Surprisingly, this reveals that Gin’s made a boo-boo, his left arm’s frozen, which doesn’t even mean anything because Gin is right-handed, and Toshiro teleports himself behind Gin in true fighty fashion.

          We have arrived at seven minutes and just under twenty seconds of this fight, and Gin turns, DOES THE UNTHINKABLE, gasp! He opens his eyes. His red, dull, evil, gray-eyebrowed with purple hair eyes, and shoots Shinso through its hideout spot behind his haori. This nearly takes off Toshiro’s eye and upwards of his head, but the little guy dives down fast. The rest happens in slow motion, supposedly, because it takes an eternity and people talk entire full sentences in its span of time.

          Gin asks Toshiro if he’s sure he’d like to dodge that  ( it’s a little late for that ) and says that Momo’ll die if he does. SHINSO SCRAPING ALONG AGAINST HYOURINMARU STRANGELY MAKES NOT A SINGLE SOUND. Mute. Even though before they had no problem animating and adding sounds to them smacking blades earlier. There are soundless sparks though, so there’s that. Yay. Can you tell how exhausted this’s made me? I need a nap.

          Shinso is already more than halfway towards Momo, still unconscious, she most definitely has a serious concussion via Toshiro backhanding her midair consider she’s been unconscious for longer than ten minutes. Toshiro has time to get up off the floor where he dropped to dodge, realize with a shocked gasp, turn, shout her name, and watch as Rangiku arrives in a random glow of gold which never happens ever again and blocks the attack with Haineko. Haineko almost cracks on the impact, and continues growing in damage as Rangiku holds Shinso there, implying that she’s stopped it from reaching one-hundred sword’s lengths to pierce Momo. Yes I’m including that implication / note in here because we love to see Rangiku succeeding in life and being Not-Helpless, all while potentially damaging Haineko severely if it wasn’t able to hold him off. Yikes, Gin!

          Rangiku threatens to join the fight if he doesn’t withdraw his sword. Gin smiles, withdraws it, and then Shunpos away.

          Whatta mess. Oh, and the anime fight was pretty fucked up, too.

          This is a long post, but here’s the manga version:

Toshiro leaps into the air,

This is where the fight actually starts between them:

And end. 

Five pages. Two blows. Does not equate to ten minutes of non-stop fighting and monologues. Sometimes, and I mean this in the most unbiased way possible, less is more.

[babysizedfics]

Poor roman :( but that being said I am heka interested in 5

remus humiliates roman in front of jamal (but jamal is a sweetheart)

vote from this concept voting post!

TWs: swearing, emotional humiliation, arguing, remus is generally pretty mean in this - not "unsympathetic" but his behaviour is not ok, brief alcohol mention but it isnt a main feature

first some background info on remus and ro:

roman and remus' friend groups actually run parallel to each other by pure councidence in that theyre the same age and are both in the local queer scene

usually they only run into each other on nights out and avoid each other like the plague... until one of romans friends and one of remus' friends become a very serious couple and the friendship groups merge

remus tends to hang it over romans head whenever they argue or remus just feels like teasing him that he could so so easily spill romans secret littlespace to all his friends

and while roman claims to not care he also really doesnt want that to happen, especially the specific things remus threatens to reveal (namely him calling his cgs mommy and daddy, and his fear of the dark - which remus knows are romans biggest embarrassments)

and remus never USUALLY actually follows through on his threats, he loves to freak roman out but he doesnt mean to be intentionslly cruel.

but one night theyve had an argument recently and remus is out to hurt roman and finally follows through on his threat to reveal romans secrets. in front of jamal

((the actual incident below the cut))

all the friends are walking back from a night out, and remus hangs back from the group to talk to jamal. roman is just glaring at remus and not saying anything and holding jamals hand tightly. remus hasnt embarrassed him too bad so far, just asking jamal questions and referring to roman as his "baby brother" which is so annoying, but the thing is roman can tell hes building up to something

then suddenly remus smirks when he sees a completely pitch black side street thats theyre about to pass by, and he calls out to everyone "hey guys, there's a 24/7 mcdonalds through here and its a shortcut to the bus stop" and everyones like WOO mcdonalds and redirects to go down the side street

and romans heart pounds watching the friends all filter down the street without a second thought, theres no streetlights down there, theres light on the other side quite far away, but before that its SO DARK. and he freezes in place and jamal is tugged back by it and looks back at him. "babe, come on"

romans starting to feel shaky and he literally cant move his feet. his eyes flick between the street and remus' sadistic cocky smirk.

"whats wrong baby bro? you stuck or something?" remus leers with that stupid stupid smirk

and roman HATES him so so much

"ro, what's the matter?" jamal asks

"i- um," roman stutters, trying to keep his voice from shaking too much at the sight of his friends just having DISAPPEARED into the darkness - how are they okay with that?? "i- im not hungry"

"okay well i am, and remus said it was a shortcut anyway so-"

"i-i -- no i can't"

seraphina, romans best friend, looks back and notices whats happening and quickly jogs over (knowing roman is scared of the dark) "hey roma, it's okay we dont have to go down there" she soothes

jamal is supportive but he doesnt get it. he thinks roman is scared of criminals or smth. "i promise theres no one bad down there, hun. and i'll be right next to you the whole time, i'll protect you" and he smiles and tugs romans hand to pull him towards the side street

romans eyes quickly tear up and he panics and rambles "nononono dont please please i cant i cant" in a broken voice and plants his feet firmly on the ground, paralysed with fear

remus starts cackling "ohhhhh thats right~" as if he just remembered. "my baby brother's terrified of the dark, isn't he?"

"f*ck off, re" sera barks, standing between the twins, protective of roman

"wait, are you?" jamal asks sounding surprised. roman doesnt let himself look at him, too busy watching remus warily and knowing thats not all he has planned to embarrass roman

remus goes on, shouting out to jamal over sera's head "he's petrified!" he confirms sounding delighted. "yknow that massive blackout last summer? he cried like a baby. literally sobbing for his daddy patton to make it go away"

theres a brief silence because no, sera and jamal didnt expect remus to refer to patton as romans daddy - they both know roman calls him dad but this is a surprise.

and that one second of silence drags on for ages for roman, all he can hear is his heart pounding in his ears and remus' obnoxious laughter

he is shaking, frozen in shock rather than fear now. for all of remus' teasing threats at home, he didnt expect remus to actually do it. hes devastated and humiliated that remus told to his best friend and especially his BOYFRIEND of all ppl

and honestly he's not even thinking about the pitch black side street right now because the streetlights on the main road are blurred by tears welling in his eyes anyway

"why dont you just leave him alone!" sera hisses furiously after her mild shock

then jamal bounces back rlly stern to remus "yeah i already know about that! roman told me and it was HIS choice to tell me"

roman stares at him in disbelief but jamal is too busy staring daggers at remus to notice

remus looks suddenly offended and frowns. hes clearly hurt that the others dont think its funny "jeez youre both such bores. im just having some fun"

"youre demented if you think thats fun" seraphina growls and shoves remus away towards the sidestreet. remus rolls his eyes and runs ahead to join the others who are all oblivious to that coversation, howling with drunken laughter in the pitch black and jumping out and scaring each other

"f*cking prick" jamal calls after remus, seething

sera quickly throws a concerned look to roman "you okay?"

roman just swallows thickly and looks between seraphina and where he saw remus join the others in the pitch black. his stomach churns at the idea of remus telling more people. "i-is he gonna--"

"im on it" sera nods and starts turning around "i wont let him tell anyone else, roma, promise" then she runs ahead to keep an eye on remus and to give him and jamal some privacy

after a moment jamal turns back to roman looking so worried and holds his hands and asks very gently "babe, can you tell me how youre feeling?"

and roman is teary but he whispers "i - you stuck up for me"

jamal looks suddenly sad and cups romans cheek "of course i did"

"but you said i told you about it. i- i didnt tell you that i-" roman gulps after his voice wobbles "i didnt tell you about it"

and jamal smiles sadly and goes "i know babe... im sorry, i just didnt wanna give him any more power. it seemed like he's held that over you for a while"

suddenly the tears in romans eyes overspill and he doesnt really know why but he can't stop them

jama gasps a little "oh roman, its ok" and just pulls him into a tight hug

roman clings and sniffles, glad that he can hide his tears from his boyfriend even if it is in his neck.

and jamal just strokes his back and whispers "its ok baby, its ok" **

they talk about it quietly as they take the longer, well-lit route instead. roman admits he would never have told jamal abt his fear on his own - and the reason he's been avoiding staying overnight at jamals apartment is bc the one time he did he got so scared of the dark that he couldnt sleep and was just anxious all night but wouldnt wake jamal to tell him

after jamal finds out hes like baby why didnt u tell me its okay and comforts him about it not being embarrassing or childish. then:

"so you do actually want to stay at mine, its just because its so dark that you didnt?"

roman nods shyly "yeah... im sorry i know its a dumb fear i just-"

"its not dumb ro. i meant to say if it works for you, we could leave the hall light on and the door open. its not like i live with anyone who can walk in."

roman blinks "wait you - really? it wont make it hard for you to sleep?"

jamal smiles softly "no hun, honestly i could sleep anywhere. i fell asleep in the middle of the day in the staffroom just last month"

roman laughs, so so so relieved

"so... maybe next time you come over for dinner you could stay the night, yeah?" jamal says with a smile and a blush. he wraps his arm around romans waist and pulls him in, hip to hip

roman bites his lip and blushes. after a moment he suggests shyly "im free tonight..."

and jamal smiles so big, stops walking and puts his arm up to romans chest to stop him too then angles romans jaw down to kiss him

in the near future jamal promises to buy a plain nightlight and always leaves it on for roman when he stays overnight from then on

**side note: roman could never stand anyone calling him baby before because he felt infantilised at school becaus of his undiagnosed adhd. so he sees it as a derogatory name more than anything. but when jamal says it roman feels so warm and respected because he knows jamal would never mean it in that way. so jamal has "baby" rights basically

[nineteenninety-six]

woc!reader x tommy? if you’re not too busy off and some idea like reader being faced with racism and all that in front of Tommy or to make people cry reader being killed in front of tommy bc of her skin colour

Despite how excited I was to write this, I felt like this falls majorly short. I also couldn’t find it in me to do the angst. If you’ve kept up with my many posts, you know my life has been a mess for over the past couple of days so I’m sorry :(

Teen!Tommy x Teen WOC! Reader

TAG LIST: @shadow-of-wonder @dayna041101 @futuristicslimemongerbanana @captivatedbycillianmurphy @sweetgoodangel

WORD COUNT: 1304

Shouts and grunts coming from an alleyway caught Tommy’s attention as he walked home from school with his brothers and unable to resist, he wandered over to where they were coming from, ignoring the confused shouts of his name by his brothers but the scene that he walked on to wasn’t one that he expected. There was a crowd of about five people that Tommy recognised from his school, including a few people he knew from his class and they were beating and kicking a young girl who was curled up on the floor.

“Oi!” 

The crowd looked up at his shout and even Tommy himself surprised at himself.

“Stop what you’re doing and piss off!” Tommy was never the one to back down, even if he might lose.

“And if we don’t?” The person who Tommy assumed to be the ringleader, stepped towards him.

“Then we’ll fight ya” Arthur said as he and John stepped up beside Tommy. Sure they were thin and slightly scrawny, just like everyone else in Small Heath but they knew how to fight thanks for their father. 

The ring leader stepped forward again, not seeming to have a problem with Arthur’s threat when another member of the group stepped forward and objected, 

“Jack, they’re the fuckin’ Shelby’s, y’know the gyspy family. Even if we beat them, their family will come round and kill us.”

Jack hesitated at the new information before he scowled at Tommy and glared at him, “Fuckin’ gypsy trash.”

Jack and the rest of the group left the alleyway, with John and Arthur following them, shouting taunts. Whilst they did that, Tommy rushed over to the girl who was shivering on the floor. He pulled his jumper off and carefully wrapped it around the girl, not wanting to scare her. He then gently helped her up into a sitting position and crouched down in front of her. It was only when he did that, he saw her face for the first time and recognised her from school and town in general but he didn’t know her name.

“Hey...you alright?”

The girl nodded and sniffled, lifting her hands up to wipe her tears, 

“Thank you” She whimpers

Tommy helps her stand up and wraps his arm around her shoulder and begins to lead her out of the alleyway,

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” The girl continues to repeat.

“It’s fine...don’t worry.” Tommy felt slightly awkward from her continued thanks.

Arthur and John were standing near the entrance of the alleyway, waiting for Tommy to return and when he did with the mysterious girl he had just saved, the four of them stood in awkward silence until Tommy spoke up,

“You two better get home. I’ll drop….” Tommy trailed off when he realised he didn’t get the name of the girl who stood beside him.

“(Y/N)” She helpfully supplied, answering the silent question.

“I’ll take (Y/N) back home.” Tommy felt the girl tense slightly at his words, making him curious.

“Alright, we’ll see you back home Tom.” Arthur said before he and John made his way back to their house.

“Where do you live?”

(Y/N) hesitated in giving him an answer

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want my mum to see me like this. It’s bad enough that we get shouts and stares when we’re walking but if she finds out I was attacked....I’m afraid of how she’ll react.”

Tommy nodded in understanding, “How about I take you to mine and my aunt can help to clean up?”

(Y/N) nodded gratefully, “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course, I’m sure my aunt would kill me if I didn’t offer to help you.”

“You’ve already helped me so much.”

“It’s fine.” Tommy smiled at the girl.

They walked in silence for a bit as Tommy walked them towards Watery Lane, when Tommy spoke up,

“Does that happen often? Getting attacked because of your skin colour?”

“...Yeah.”

“That’s not fucking fair.” 

“You’re telling me.” (Y/N) scoffs, “They hate me simply because of the colour of my skin, I can’t even step outside without someone calling me a derogatory word.”

“Why don't you leave?” Tommy asked and a part of him knew it was a dumb question.

“No-one's ever left Small Heath and besides no matter where I move to, people are still going to be racist.”

Tommy couldn’t refute her argument, he knew she was right. They had reached his place and he guided her into the living room before shouting for his aunt Polly.

“Pol are you in?! Aunt Polly?!”

“Why are you shouting?” A woman’s voice sighed.

Tommy and (Y/N) turned towards the voice and saw who (Y/N) guessed was Tommy’s aunt Polly.

“I need your help” Tommy explained 

Polly walked in and eyed (Y/N) and her cuts and bruises.

“What’s happened?”

“(Y/N) needs help cleaning up before she goes home and I was hoping that you could help her.” Tommy said

Polly slowly nodded, “Go into the bathroom and bring me the kit that’s in there and then boil up some water and bring me some clean rags.”

Tommy immediately jumped up and did what his aunt asked him to do, leaving (Y/N) with his aunt. 

“C’mon dear, let’s sit down” Polly guided her to the couch and pulled Tommy’s jumper off her and then began to look over her injuries.

“What happened to you?” Polly asked.

“I was getting beat up by a bunch of kids from school when Tommy, along with Arthur and John stepped in and helped me. I didn’t want to go home looking like this to my mum so Tommy offered to take me here to help me out.”

Polly smiled at the fact that her nephews stepped in and helped (Y/N) out before she frowned,

“Why were they attacking you?”

“Because they hate me for the colour of my skin.”

Polly tutted and sighed, “People are fucking stupid eh?”

(Y/N) smiled at Polly’s words, agreeing with them.

Tommy returned at that point with the kit and rags Polly requested before darting back out and collecting the freshly boiled water. Once she had all of the supplies, Polly set to work, cleaning up (Y/N)’s cuts and scrapes and Tommy sat silently beside (Y/N) tightly gripping her hands in comfort.

When Polly was done, (Y/N) looked decent enough to go home and not have her mother notice that anything was wrong.

“Thank you so much” (Y/N) profusely thanked Polly, extremely grateful for her help.

Polly smiled at the young girl, “Of course. If you need help, don’t hesitate to come around.” 

(Y/N) couldn’t put it into words how much she appreciated the Shelby family for helping her out and not discarding her and throwing insults at her like every other family in Small Heath.

“Tommy make sure she gets home safely,” Polly ordered.

Tommy nodded and began leading (Y/N) out of the house and after one more shout of thanks to Polly, (Y/N) left the Shelby house.

“What time do you leave for school?” 

“At eight. Why?”

“I’ll come pick you up in the morning so you don’t have to walk alone.” 

(Y/N) smiled at Tommy's offer, “That would be great, thank you.”

They had reached (Y/N)’s house and (Y/N) gave him a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek before bidding him goodbye and stepping inside her house. She couldn’t wait for the walk to school the next day, excited that she finally had a friend and someone she could trust and that didn’t judge her for something she had no control over but she wasn’t ashamed of her skin colour and she loved it and embraced it, even if everyone else hated it.

[fairiesherefairiesthere]

Nothing if not an opportunist (Fraxus)

Short summary: Freed gets kidnapped and Laxus picks his ass up, bc being together is what nice boyfriends do uwu

Intro: 

A more than agreeable way to start one's morning would be with a nice cup of coffee and some baked goods of choice. Should the weather be pleasant, this delightful breakfast could've been taken in his garden. The flowerfilled wonder would look and smell heavenly in the soft light of the morning sun. But alas, hypotheticals are merely that and Freed is having a far less enjoyable morning so far.

Rest of the fic under the cut!

It goes without question that a group of people ambushing you on your way home is far from ideal. It only gets worse when they decide to tie you up with magic-blocking handcuffs right after that and throw you in the back of some dinky carriage. Rude.

With a sigh, Freed repositions himself, trying to find a posture that doesn't cut off his blood circulation. Thanks to an ungodly amount of yoga sessions with Bickslow, he quickly achieves his goal but it's still a far cry from his cozy couch. Inspecting the space, he tuts in disapproval. No cushions, no blankets, not even a beanbag. They should really level up their accommodations if they wanted to avoid the wrath of their temporary guests. A shame they didn't keep that in mind, but Freed sure as hell will.

While he's debating what exactly the awful stench invading his nostrils is, he catches the men in the front talking about a certain topic that catches his attention. His ransom note. Briefly, he mentally deducts some points from them for not putting silencing runes in place.

As the men talk in a not at all hushed tone of voice, it quickly becomes clear that there's no interest in him personally. It's Laxus they're after. A bit predictable and consequently, a bit boring. He mentally deducts a few more points. If they keep this up, they'll end up becoming the worst team that kidnapped him in the shortest amount of time.

Because he considers himself a graceful man, raised right as well as raised to be a bastard, he puts his face between the bars separating him and his kidnappers. "Good day gentlemen," he starts politely and in return, one of them spits in his face. Disappointing. He'll keep it in mind. Outwardly unperturbed, he continues. "I have been listening to your attempts at writing a threatening ransom note for the past half hour and quite frankly, I am not at all impressed. Please try to be at least intelligible, we wouldn't want them to get wrong impressions right?"

"Shut up, I'll torture and kill you", one of them growls and Freed nods enthusiastically. "That's it! Clear and to the point. Now please describe exactly how you'll do it and I'll rephrase it for you. I want my ransom note to be up to my standards. I expect both eloquence and elegance. Maybe even a hint of cheekiness if we're feeling up to it." As the man starts a litany of threats and curses, Freed carefully paraphrases everything, which only heats the man up more. As he gets his enjoyment out of harassing the man, he catches his accomplice writing down his more concrete, paraphrased version of the threats.

Although he missed out on a nice, peaceful morning he can't say that he isn't enjoying himself right now. Being a pest is an artform he's fully mastered.

Laxus hasn't seen Freed all day and to be honest, he hadn't really been worried. That is until he's sipping on a beer while Bickslow and Evergreen are making themselves a tad bit too comfortable on his couch. They had thrown him off and are currently engaged in a fight for the sole rights to the leather-worn throne. Seeing how vicious the fight is turning, he's glad that he had already been eliminated from the fight.

A letter is shoved underneath his door and although Laxus is lightning fast, he's unable to catch even a glimpse of the mailman. "A secret love letter!" Bickslow exclaims from his place on the floor and Evergreen rolls her eyes in response. "If that was a love letter, I'd throw it in the trash. Look at the shoddy thing!"

She's right, Laxus realises. The letter looks awful, crumpled and stained with what seems to be blood. Worry increasing, he opens it up and quickly scans the content of the text. His concern reaches a peak when he spots the long lock of green hair attached to the letter and as he holds it up, Evergreen and Bickslow hiss in unison. "Our baby got kidnapped again, didn't he?" Bickslow asks and Laxus nods.

"They've included an address and say I should come weaponless and with magic-blocking cuffs already on. They say they have to settle a score with me and if I don't come within the next 48 hours they'll kill him. With every hour the torture also increases."

Bickslow whistles between his teeth. "Guess ya gotta go huh?" Evergreen frowns. "Do you even have magic blocking cuffs?" she asks and he points at the ceiling. "In my bedroom", he says and while Bickslow cackles, Evergreen's frown only gets deeper. "Why are there magic-blocking handcuffs in your bedroom...?" When Laxus returns with the green, fluffy cuffs, Evergreens' disappointment is palpable. "They've got little lightning bolts on them!" he tries to defend himself and it sounds ridiculous to his own ears.

Trying to desperately change the subject, he asks if they want to come along on the rescue mission. The answer's a firm no. "The aftermath of these situations are never pretty", Evergreen whispers, eyes clouded with a distant emotion. "I don't want to see the violence, the effects of hopelessness", Bickslow adds, swallowing dryly. Laxus understands their sentiment better than anyone. "Then I'll be bringing him back", he promises, although he knows he doesn't have to. They know he does it every time without fail.

Laxus arrives at the castle at twilight, light and dark intertwining as he enters the too quiet place. Normally castles of this size should be alive, the hum of the hustling and bustling of servants forming the core of it's sound. Although he can hear people scurrying about far away, there's still the lingering feeling that it is way too quiet. It's as though the castle is awaiting his arrival with baited breath.

Upon entering the hall, he's greeted by a quivering maid. Unable to look him in the eyes, she asks: "Master Dreyar, I presume?" while directing her gaze at the floor. "Take me where I need to be." He doesn't mean to be so brusque, but he has no time to spare for useless pleasantries.

She quickly guides him to the main room and even before he enters it, he knows that the room will be a show of absolute opulence, meant to intimidate him from the get go. As soon as he enters, his suspicions are confirmed.

The ceiling is as high as the ceiling of most gothic churches and the candles lighting up the room are a mere few. Nevertheless, every grim decoration in the rooms is properly lit. The decorative skulls, the chains, everything is immersed in the same eerie glow. In this faint light, Laxus can make out the servants stationed at the sides of the carpet leading to the throne. Behind them, there are scratches on the walls, destroyed tables and what seems to be... bits and bops of human beings. It's like an Ikea set of human remains.

A cough draws his attention to the throne. The glow of the lights reflects of the crown of the man sitting on it. The light also bounces off the bejeweled cape draped across his shoulders and Laxus can't help but stare. Perched on the throne like a lazy cat who has very much made a place formerly belonging to someone else is his own, is Freed Justine. "Hello Laxus, I was wondering when you'd show up. Did you like my letter?"

As Freed slinks of the throne and walks towards him, with every piece of jewelry that comes to light as he draws closer, jingling softly. The sound matches Freed's natural sound well and the lavish jewelry take his already handsome looks to another level. That and the horns accentuating the crown, the little tinge of red left on his too sharp teeth as well as the glow in his usually hidden eye.

He's not surprised at this situation in the slightest, as this is how Freed's kidnappings usually go. The man is simply too charming, too cunning and too powerful to be contained by a few simple bandits. The only reason Laxus comes to pick him up, is because he knows Freed enjoys being walked home. It's the simple things, like this form of domesticity, that makes their relationship so enjoyable.

"I asked the servants to prepare us a meal before we set off? Would you join me Mister Dreyar?" he asks teasingly. "It is our date night after all." With a smile he agrees. "It is, this is very considerate of you." Freed gives him a chuckle and a wink in return. "I'm nothing if not an opportunist." They toast to that later on.

Once back at the guild, Makarov flags them down, concern evident on his face. "You've got to take better care of him", he hisses at Laxus and before Laxus can tell him that he really doesn't have to, Freed smoothly cuts in. "Please don't worry about it master, he already does such a splendid job of saving me every time. A man can't ask for more than a splendid hero, right?"

Although it's a lie totally dicrediting Freed's own skill, Laxus doesn't correct him, even though he wants to. He knows Freed by now, knows that every lie, every piece of omitted information is probably part of a scheme of a sly mind that never stops working. He knows that the image of a mage depending on Laxus makes him a walking target and Laxus knows that the man enjoys nothing more than a good fight. Maybe there's more to it than Freed's hobby of beating up people, maybe there isn't. Either way, Laxus loves watching Freed's plans unfold, even if it means that he has to hold his tongue sometimes.

[wordsablaze]

Ch.2. Bright Blue

Blue Buttercup Almost like buttercups, it took Jaskier a lot of time and trouble to bloom and find his place in the world, but it wasn't all so golden... (aka: yennefer was his mother way before he was jaskier)

A/N: i love yennefer and made her pretty soft bc i think she deserves it, sorry not sorry :p

previous chapter

-

Yennefer was not heartless.

She was not, as many people assumed, immune to emotions, to love.

It was just that she’d experienced far too much pain and she’d forged herself with chaos and it all meant she often found herself exasperated at the human desire to take risks with one’s heart.

(She knew those risks all too well.)

But children.

She could rarely resist the cries of children.

The screams of the small were loud and powerful and tragic.

And there was something truly awful about hearing, feeling the tears of such young lives.

(She was haunted by them.)

Sighing to herself, she walks over to the front door, pulling it open and glancing around only to have something - someone - fall against her legs.

The child gasps as they topple over, clearly having been leaning on the door, and scrambles backwards, looking up at her with impossibly blue eyes, bright eyes filled with a deep sorrow.

She looks over the child, a boy who seems too fragile to remain on her property despite the wards, and takes in his messy hair, his spotless jacket, his bare feet.

(She wonders how his skin is still unbroken.)

“Who are you?” she asks, wincing internally as the boy shrinks away at her tone.

He doesn’t offer her a reply but quietens down, waiting for her to do something. She notices with slight confusion that he struggles to look away from her eyes, nothing but curiosity burning in his eyes.

After a minute of silence, she kneels down to his eye-level, asking again: “Who are you?”

The boy frowns at her, shaking his head.

(She can tell he’s trying hard not to cry again.)

Before she can say anything else, the boy jumps to his feet, opens his mouth only to close it again, and sprints.

Surprised, she watches as he twists between the trees, disappearing far too quickly for her to determine where he’s going or why he’d left so suddenly.

(She could track him but she doesn’t want to scare him.)

He doesn’t seem to be returning even once she’s recovered from her surprise so she shuts the door, making a note to reinforce her wards once she’s had enough time to recharge - the boy is no threat but he really shouldn’t have been able to see her house at all.

Back to her normal routine, Yennefer takes her time bathing and freshening up. She all but forgets about the strange blue-eyed child at her doorstep by the time she sits down to eat.

And then she feels it.

(Feels him.)

He’s back.

“Really?” she asks nobody in particular, going back to the door and pulling it open with a wave of her hand, not sure what to expect this time.

The boy is standing there with a shy smile and a bunch of flowers in his hands, blues and purples and whites impressively mixed together.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

(Yennefer’s heart melts.)

He holds them forwards, making no move himself, keeping his gaze locked onto her eyes.

She’s not sure what to say but she takes the flowers from him and kneels again, her muscles moving without her permission and offering the boy a small smile in return.

Instantly, he beams.

And throws himself at her, his tiny arms looping around her neck as he giggles, his relief radiating from him like rays of sunlight.

He doesn’t even seem to mind that she’s unsure what to do, her arms awkwardly frozen in place, he just steps back once he’s satisfied and continues to beam - that is, until he spots the flowers he’d accidentally crushed.

(She doesn’t know why the sadness on his face hurts her.)

“It’s okay,” she whispers, blowing on the flowers and smiling as she watches him brighten up when they magically repair themselves.

(She’ll never let them die.)

He looks up at her with awe in his eyes. “Thank you.”

Usually, people’s awe is directed at her alongside fear or distrust, the lack of which in his eyes is refreshing, strangely pleasant.

Yennefer doesn’t want to get attached, she really doesn’t, but the boy makes no move to disappear again and she finds herself asking: “Would you like some food?”

She might as well have offered him the whole world if his smile is bright enough to go by, his entire being becoming happier, more confident, more comfortable.

“Please,” he replies, and reaches for her hand.

(That reaches her heart.)

Slightly out of her depth but unwilling to make him cry again, she lets him take her hand and stands up, guiding him into her dining room, into a seat at her very small table.

When she summons another bowl of soup from the kitchen, his expression shifts from awe to confusion to panic. He looks up at her with tears half-formed in his eyes, “I don’t know how to eat your food.”

She would be insulted if not for the sincere guilt she can sense he feels.

“It’s just soup,” she tells him, holding out a spoon.

He shakes his head. “I don’t… I’m sorry, we never-”

Curiosity stirs inside her as he cuts himself off but Yennefer doesn’t herself dwell on it, instead taking her own spoon and lifting it up. “Here, copy me.”

To his credit, he nods, watching her carefully as she eats a few spoonfuls and then picking up his own spoon. She thinks he’s figured it out until he stabs the spoon into the bowl and jumps at himself.

(It makes her smile for some reason.)

“Like this,” she says, wrapping his hand around the spoon and guiding it to his mouth.

His eyes widen, brighten when he finally swallows it and a ridiculously large grin breaks out on his face. “I love it!”

Even she doesn’t appreciate her soup that much. But his enthusiasm is infectious and, although she has to practically feed him at regular intervals because he struggles to understand the concept of a spoon, she finds that she’s enjoying herself.

(The realisation hits her like a bucket of ice.)

The boy goes still once they finish eating, biting his lip as he frowns up at her. “Can I stay here?”

She wants to ask him why he thinks he can’t but the deep sorrow from earlier has taken over his expression again and all she can do is bite back her sarcasm and nod slowly.

Within the blink of an eye, that sorrow has been replaced by joy and the boy almost tumbles from the chair in his rush to throw his arms around her - the way he ends up hugging both her stomach and her chair is a strange sort of ridiculous.

(It’s endearing.)

He lets go of her and runs back to the front door, where he turns back and gives her a sheepish grin. “How does this work?”

“The door?”

He nods quickly. “The door. How does the door work?”

Yennefer raises an eyebrow. “Why do you need the door to work?”

“You said I can stay,” he replies, sounding confused.

“That I did,” Yennefer agrees, walking over to him and kneeling down again, “but I meant you can stay inside the house.”

(Inside her heart.)

It takes him a long moment to think that over before he smiles, stepping towards her, hope shining in his eyes. “With you?”

She doesn’t want to say yes, she doesn’t want to commit to something like this. She’s not even sure if the boy will want to stay for long and it’s probably safer for her to avoid that risk at all instead of-

“Of course.”

Blue eyes brighten and that’s all the warning she has before there are small arms draped around her neck again and giggles filling the air.

(Destiny smiles over them.)

-

thanks for reading :) | masterlist | next chapter

[incorrect-dying-light-quotes]

Pls tell us about Karim getting stepped on

TW for general violence

Ok so basically (sorry if this is incoherent I do all of my infodumps in greentext format so I’m trying to summarize it from that bear with me)

Karim is a whore wbk, and he’d let anyone tap, but he’s got a bit of a thing for Crane ya feel? When he first shows up at the garrison Karim is like so you’re a dumb bitch... and I’M a dumb bitch... and spends the whole time flirting with him pretty much. Ofc Crane only comes into the garrison a few times to argue with Rais and then leaves, but they keep talking over the radio. Rais overhears at some point and Beats The Shit Out Of Him and Karim is just like. damn. that shit sucks but am I gonna learn my lesson? NO lmao. Eventually he and Crane start meeting up in private and hee hoo forbidden romance except it’s not all that serious, they’re really just hanging out and occasionally they k*ss or.... or h*ld h*nds and they only really fuck once.

 Eventually someone from the garrison catches them and snitches to Rais for some good boy points, and as Karim’s heading back after a Session (tm) he sees Rais standing at the gate looking considerably more menacing than he usually does and Karim’s like ah. shit. He hops over the fence and Rais immediately starts lecturing him more frantically and angrily than usual and drags him into the courtyard by the hair like an angry grandma. 

Rais gets mad at Karim regularly and usually will give just a light punishment, and Karim’s been in the pit a few times but because Rais and everyone else actually like him they go easy on him and he always comes out fine but this time Rais is understandably fucking pissed. Rais and Tahir take him down to the pit and Karim’s just like ah this is fine. Small price to pay for america dick. 

So they get to the pit and the three of them r standing on The Platform and Karim’s surveying the pit to see how much he’ll have to try, there’s an extra container meaning more biters but they’re just biters so it’s fine right. But no it’s not fine because Rais shoves Karim in without lowering the platform first and Karim breaks his right ankle upon hitting the ground and is like AH DAMN!!!! WHTA THE FUCK !! !! !

Rais fires his gun to agitate the infected who proceed to break out of the containers, and Karim is just like ieaoefejsjkhfkehrse. He hops over on one foot to the nearest container and climbs on top of it for brief safety and is like fuck man fuck. 

Some Virals come at him first which is fine, he takes care of them all just fine by either bonking them on the head hard enough that they just cease to exist or by pushing them off the container onto the spike traps below, but the last one takes a few hits and gives Karim a bit of a hard time and scratches him up a bit but overall he comes out fine. 

Karim does the ol throw some firecrackers and light a propane tank and just blo them all up strat, which works for most of the biters and that’s great because my guy can’t fucking walk. So most of the biters die on impact, the ones who did live can’t get up and are therefore not a threat. probably. 

He gets down off of the container assuming all of the infected are dead and he gets to go back inside now but apparently not. There’s two more Virals which he takes care of, though with some difficulty cuz he’s on the ground now. 

He’s then like okay NOW I’m done right? And goes over to where Rais is standing expecting him to let him go now, but he doesn’t lower the platform at all and Karim’s like. bruh. And Rais lectures him about being a whore and betraying him one time too many yadda yadda nothing he hasn’t heard before. And then he sees someone manning the crane (heh) and drops the Demolisher Container down there and Karim is like. oh god. fuck. And picks up a shitty machete off the ground and tries to figure out what to do

The Demolisher charges out of the container and at him and he jumps out of the way, landing on his bad foot on accident and being liek OIUEAUFEHJ. He ducks behind a container because PAIN and also still trying to figure out what to do. Demolisher throws a slab of concrete at the container and Karim’s just like oaebkaebk. eoabejkab. ekabekjb. And figures he just has to be careful and take his time. So he gets up to Face It Like A Man

He fights the Demolisher as you’re supposed to, waiting for him to charge and jumping out of the way, only attacking him when he’s tired. He does fairly well, manages to break his helmet off in a few tries and only lands on his bad foot once. He backs away in preparation for the next charge, getting ready to hit him as hard as he can, but one of the biters he didn’t kill grabs his leg and pulls him to the ground.

Karim is like oh god oh fuck and tries to kick the biter away and get back up but it’s really going ham and isn’t letting go. The Demolisher charges again and Karim is like. change da world. my final message. goodb y e. And the Demolisher just steps right on him. There’s an ungodly fucking cracking sound and Karim is just UEAAEEAEAEAE. Audience is yelling. but Luckily for him the Biter let go and the Demolisher is out of breath, so Karim manages to pull himself off the ground and stumble into a nearby container while the Demolisher isn’t looking so he’s in a good hiding place for now. 

He proceeds to throw up a shit ton of blood. Like a lot. A very bad amount. And thinks he’s dying and he’s never been in this much pain in his life. He starts to panic a bit as he hears the Demolisher pacing around the pit looking for him. He somehow manages to stand up, and holy shit his fucking bones dude. ow. god damn. He throws up a bit more and then leans against the side of the container, trying to figure out what to do. The Demolisher only needed one or two good hits to the head and he’d be gone but Karim obviously was in no shape to do that. 

Karim’s like fuck it. Propane tank thing again. Because he doesn’t really have anything to do and at this point for him it’s do or die. And he sure is dying. Problem is he’s gonna have to manage to hit it hard enough and also throw it far enough which he probably can’t do. But luckily for him there’s a bundle of firecrackers right there next to him. So he figures his best bet is to lure the Demolisher behind the container, hit the tank, and roll it as hard as he can and take cover in the container, and there’s like a 30% chance the Demolisher will die instead of him. Which is better than 0%. So he’s like alright I got this. 

He lights the firecrackers and throws them a good ways away, and the Demolisher gets agitated by the sound and charges towards it. Karim picks up a pipe and uses the last ounce of his strength to hit the nozzle of the propane tank and rolls it over to him as hard as he can before ducking back inside. He lays down and covers his ears and hopes he doesn’t die. Shit goes explodey and after a few seconds he opens his eyes and is like. I’m not dead. Unless this is hell. but then he realizes it’s very quiet and he pokes his head out and sees that it’s fucking dead babey!!!!!!! he did it!!!!!!!!!! fuck yeah!!!!!!!!

So he pulls himself up and hobbles over to Rais and Tahir who are now lowering the platform. Tahir looks hella relieved that you’re even alive and Rais looks just as pissed as before with a hint of disappointment. Karim collapses in front of them and throws up some more, Rais says something he doesn’t hear bc his ears are ringing loud as hell. Probably something about how he’s disappointed you’re still alive but he’s not unfair so since you lived you’re allowed to walk out. Tahir carefully picks him up and he proceeds to pass out in his arms. 

He wakes up a few minutes later as he’s still being carried and then he realizes how cold he is and wakes up and he’s like oh. outside. boy it sure is dark out here haha what are you guys doing? Tahir gently sets him down on the grass outside the fence and Karim’s like wht. And Rais explains that if he can survive a night with the Volatiles in his current state then he’s welcome back to the Garrison, but otherwise he can get fucked. 

Karim is like god dammit as the two of them walk away and he just lays in the grass. He’s like hm . wet grass. nice feeling :^)). a bitch delirious rn. Eventually he pulls himself up and drags himself over to the front gate and talks to the guards and tries to get them to help him. He’s like I’ll suck your dick if you let me use your radio. the guard is like hell yeah and lets him use it. So he manages to contact the tower and say that he needs H E L P . 

Crane comes, guards don’t shoot him because Karim said so. Crane picks him up and carries him to the nearest secure building, not a safe house becaues the nearest one is way too far away. Crane sits down with him and tends to the few wounds he can help with and says that if he’s still alive in the morning he’ll bring his doctor over. Karim’s like ight lit. nice cock by the way and passes out again

Then the next morning Crane brings Lena over and also Karim’s ex gf Eliza who is a nurse in the Garrison shows up to help and they fix him up as much as they can and Crane ends up taking him to the tower so he can recover. the end

[croatian-nt]

Mafia au-Part six

Summary: When an unassuming artist saves a man’s life at the shooting at the gallery, he ends up in the midde of the war between two mafias and as he gets dragged deeper into the whole thing, he soon learns the line between the sides and right and wrong blur more than he expected.

Pairings: Tin/Ante, hinted

Word Count: 3709

Warnings: mentions of kidnapping, blood, death threats

Notes: Are the gaps between updates getting longer or is it just me?(they are getting longer bc I procrastinate a lot, sorry). Anyway the chapter is here and I planned on posting it a bit later today but since it’s @morska-vjestica ‘s birthday, let’s count this as her present. As always big thank you to @lovren-la-vida-luka for editing this. Anyway, enjoy :)

Tin

Tin opened his eyes and blinked a few times. His eyes still felt unusually heavy. How long did he have before his next class-

Suddenly, the events from earlier that day came crashing back to him and he jumped on his feet. He immediately stumbled, grabbing the couch he was lying on for support. 

 He glanced around the unfamiliar apartment, trying to find an exit, when suddenly:

 "You are awake."

 Tin turned to the voice, his eyes landing on Ante who was leaning on the doorway of what Tin assumed was the kitchen.

 "Not thanks to you," Tin hissed, crossing his arms over his chest.

 Ante sighed, dragging his hand over his face. Tin closed his hands into fists under his crossed arms, pushing away the urge to punch Ante in the nose and actually give him a reason to look at him like he was doing something stupid.

 "What did you expect me to do? Honestly, Šime knocking you out was a better option. The alternative was him putting a bullet through your brain."

 Tin really didn't have the time to process that. Or how many times he almost died today. Was it even still today?

 He glanced to the window, the way the sun was slowly setting. That probably meant he was out for a few hours but it was still the same day. 

 "I’m guessing the other option would have been more convenient for you."

 Ante snaps his eyes to his, and he looks almost surprised? Angry? Tin can't tell and that bothers him for some reason. He used to be able to tell how Ante was feeling just by the way he fidgeted with his hands or the ways his lips twitched at the corners. Now he is just a blank canvas Tin is trying to fill with colors he once knew.

 "How can you say that? I- of course I didn't want him to kill you!"

 Tin bit his lip, but he couldn't stop bitterness from pouring out.

 "You may not want him to kill me, but if he decided to do it, would you have even tried to stop him?"

 Silence. That was more than enough of an answer.

 Tin snorted, sitting down on a couch and letting his head fall into his hands. What was he doing? Why did it matter if Ante cared if he lived or not? He had to get a grip. There were other, more important things he should be worrying about. 

 "Who are you, really, Ante? And your friends as well? Who is Luka, if that’s even his name, that man I saved at the gallery?"

 Ante pursed his lips together, and oh, Tin knew that expression. Ante always had it when he was trying not to tell him something. 

 "I think I deserve to know something. I saved his life and got myself into all this mess because of him, I’d at least like to know who the hell he is and how you know him."

 Ante sighed again, and came closer, throwing himself in an armchair facing the couch Tin was sitting on. 

 "Luka is his name, I promise. He’s a good guy for the most part, and you did a good thing. Let's just say that you saved the life of someone of high rank in-” he paused, but realised there was no turning back. When he continued his voice was much quieter and he stared at the floor instead of at Tin. “In the mafia."

 If Tin wasn't already sitting down, he definitely would have collapsed at that. This had to be some kind of a joke, right?

 "You are joking right? These things happen in movies. Are mafias even still a thing?" Tin laughed nervously, fidgeting with his hair. "Besides, if he’s in the mafia, what kind of idiot would try to kill him? This doesn't make any sense."

 "A rival mafia. And yes, they are still a thing."

 Tin opens his mouth, then closes it. Swallows. 

 "Rival mafia?" He asks weakly.

 Ante’s interest in the pattern on the rug appeared to intensify as he avoided Tin's questioning gaze. In different circumstances, Tin might have found it funny. It was like looking at the foggy mirror. You could recognize the shapes and colors of someone, but the full picture was blurry.

 "Yes. They have been fighting over territory for years. Not in an open war, that would be stupid. Well, not until now, anyway."

 Tin took a deep breath and tried to let the information sink in. His head was still spinning a little, and he found it hard to tell whether it was a lingering effect of the chloroform or if the events of the whole day were finally catching up with him. 

 "Then why.."

 "Why did they try to kill Luka?" Ante asks, and there is an almost there smile, the one that he has when he can guess what Tin is thinking, "I don't know. All I do know is that it's definitely not good for any of us."

 Tin swallows again, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. 

 "So what happens now?"

 What happens with me? That was the real, underlying question Tin wanted to ask. He remembered the man from the hospital, the way he swiftly killed those gunmen, without thinking twice.

 Tin knew their faces, and he knew their names… when was he going to become too much of a liability, and they would decide to get rid of him? 

 "Well, you have to stay here for now. We can discuss that more when Šime gets back."

 Tin studied Ante for a moment, finally letting himself really look at him. Letting himself analyse the similarities and differences to the boy he dated in high school.

 He was maybe a bit taller, and he had more muscle. Frankly, Tin didn't want to imagine what kind of things he did to get it. But possibly the biggest difference was how cold and closed off he seemed. It was as if he was just an echo of his past self, and Tin was blindly following the sound that disappeared long ago. 

 He reminded himself to breathe in again, trying to sort his thoughts. He didn't trust Šime at all. God knows why he didn't kill him already, but Tin was pretty certain he would at one point. And as much as it pained him, he didn't think he could trust Ante, either. So that left him one option. Trying to run away. 

 He quickly glanced at Ante and then at the door. He could make it, if he did it right. Deep breath. In and out.

 If he read the situation right, and if he remembered right, there was one thing Ante had no idea how to deal with. Tin crying. Which meant that would be a good distraction.

 Tin buried his head in his hands again and sniffled, trying his best to sound like he was crying. 

 "Tin?" 

 Tin made a pained sound, curling more into himself. God, he hoped Ante didn't remember he used to be part of drama club as well.

 "It's just- it’s too much. I can't- breathe-" Tin sobbed, and he could hear Ante moving.

 He sat next to Tin, awkwardly wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Tin almost laughed when he imagined his face. He rarely cried, and Ante never knew how to deal with it when he did.

 "It's going to be okay. Nobody is going to hurt you, okay? I promise."

 That sent a pang of guilt through Tin’s stomach, and he hesitated for a moment. But then the memory of Ante just standing there and letting Šime knock him unconscious with chloroform resurfaced. The anger resurfaced and he shifted a bit in Ante's embrace. And then he kicked him between the legs. Hard. 

 Ante doubled over, swearing loudly, and Tin pushed him off, ignoring the pained sounds Ante made. He jumped off the couch, running towards the door. 

 Before he could reach the door though, Ante managed to grab his leg and pull it, and Tin crashed to the floor. 

He didn't have the chance to try and get out of the grasp because Ante was there, pinning him to the floor. 

 They were face to face and Tin could feel Ante's warm breath on his face, and the way both of their hearts beat wildly in their chests. Those ocean blue eyes threatened to swallow him in their depths, and he tried to remember he wanted to escape and not pull him closer.

 "I am starting to regret teaching you self defense," Ante said, right next to his ear and Tin suppressed a shudder. 

 He tried to wrench his wrists from Ante's grasp, but to no avail. Ante smirked and Tin let his head fall back to the floor with a quiet thud.

 "So, what now? You plan on holding me pinned to the floor until your friend comes back or what?"

 "I don't know," Ante said, gently rubbing circles into Tin's wrist with his thumb, "it depends if you will try to escape again or not."

 Tin swallowed, his heart racing at the gentle motion. The memories of Ante he was in love with collided with this new, dangerous man in front of him. As similar as he seemed at first glance, Tin couldn't forget how easily he killed a man, without a flinch or any sign of regret. It made his stomach turn. 

 "Stop it."

 Ante's hand immediately stilled at that. Tin breathed out in relief, but his heart and mind continued racing. Šime wasn't here yet, but it was only a matter of time before he came. Tin couldn't win in a physical fight against Ante and escape. So what could he do?

 Alert someone else. Alert Andrej. He would know what to do. 

 Tin purposefully relaxed into Ante's hold, instead of trying to find a way to get out of it. Ante narrowed his eyes at him.

 "I won't try to run away again if you let me make one phone call.”

 Ante snorts at that.

 "Sure, why don't I just call the police for you while we are at it?"

 "I wouldn't try to call the police. I am not that stupid,” Tin sighed, rolling his eyes, "I just want to call my roommate. If I don't come back he will freak out and he will call the police. You don't want extra attention do you?"

 That made Ante pause, and Tin counted that as a victory. The truth was, Andi probably wouldn't notice him missing for at least a day or two without Tin calling. Sometimes Tin worried how much time he spent in his room, apparently working on his assignments. Tin barely even ever saw him leave to go to his lectures, but he supposed it was none of his business.

 "You can even stay in the room while I call him. I won't say anything that could lead him to you."

 Ante studied him for a moment and Tin readily met his gaze, willing himself to stay calm. He could do this - he had to do this. If he had to choose between not dying and lying to Ante, well. He'd choose lying any day.

 "One call. You have two minutes, and I will be listening to everything you say. One wrong word and I'll send someone to get rid of your friend. Understood?"

 Tin nodded jerkily. Another reminder why he couldn't trust Ante. He knew Tin too well, his family and now Andi as well. And he could hurt them if Tin did anything wrong. 

 Tin cursed himself and his inability not to get involved. If he just let Luka get shot, he wouldn't be in this mess.

 But no- he didn't regret saving his life. As much as he hated this whole situation, Tin knew he couldn't have done anything differently. He was never one to stand aside if he could do something. 

 Ante let him go, and offered Tin a hand to help him get up. Tin very pointedly ignored it, but he didn't miss the way Ante's shoulders fell a little as he pulled his hand back. Tin pushed the feeling of guilt away, turning his head the other way. This wasn't the same Ante anymore. He was in the mafia for God’s sake, and he was actively involved in kidnapping Tin. Tin assured himself that he had nothing to feel guilty about.

 "So, can I have my phone?"

 Ante wordless reached into his bag and handed Tin the phone. He made sure their hands didn't brush, and Tin was thankful for that at least. 

 "Two minutes," Ante reminded him and Tin refused the urge to roll his eyes.

 "Yes, I think your original threat was clear enough. Can I just call him now?"

 Ante sighed, but motioned to him to go on. Tin pressed call and prayed Andi actually heard his phone, or this was all for nothing. It rang one, two, three times-

 "Hello?"

 "Oh thank God," Tin exclaimed, immediately slapping a hand over his mouth, "I mean. I am glad you answered. I wanted to tell you I won't be coming home today."

 Silence. Tin pretended not to see the suspicious stare Ante was giving him and focused on breathing instead.

 "Okay? You didn't have to call me for that, you know."

 Tin was suddenly very grateful that Ante didn't ask him to put the phone on speaker.

 "I know, I know, I just thought you'd be worried. It might be a few days before I come back, I’m not sure yet. But I wanted to ask you for a favor."

 Tin swallowed, aware that now both Ante's and Andi's attention was on him. 

 "Sure? What is it?"

 "If you could buy those cupcakes we saw in the store the other day… the ones with lots of red sprinkles on top, I'd love you forever."

 Next to him, Ante chuckled, but Tin could hear Andi take a sharp breath. Neither of them liked cupcakes, which is why they made that a sort of code to let each other know if they were in trouble. The sprinkles signaled how bad the situation was. Green meant something unpleasant, like “get me away from this terrible date”. Yellow meant something more like, “I'm lost or hurt, come pick me up”. And red… well. They both expected it to stay hypothetical. It meant they were in real danger and the police had to get involved. 

 "Sure. Where are you staying for the time being?"

 Tin glanced at Ante, biting his bottom lip. How much could he say? It was probably the best not to risk it. He didn't want Andi to get hurt.

 "Oh, just with a friend. On that note, he’s right next to me and I feel really rude right now, so I should go. Stay safe," Tin said, trying his best to sound cheerful and not terrified like he felt. 

 He pressed end call before he could hear Andi's answer. He was too scared that if he heard the worry in his tone he might break down again. 

 Before Tin could return the phone to Ante though, the door opened and Šime walked in, his eyes immediately landing on the device in Tin's hand. 

 Before Tin could blink, Šime painfully twisted his wrist until he dropped the phone and then, a moment later there was a knife under his throat. Tin felt all of his muscles locking in place, and he barely dared to breathe.

 Šime's hands were elegant, even with the numerous tattoos spanning over them. If Tin didn't know any better he would mistook his fingers for someone who played piano, or perhaps a skilled thief. But he knew how quickly his hands could move and his knife cut straight through his neck. 

 "Why did the hell he have a phone?" Šime asked, his eyes boring into Ante. 

 Tin knew better than to answer a question not directed at him. Even Ante looked careful, showing his palms, as if not to startle Šime. Or maybe so he could disarm him quicker, if given a chance.

 "I let him call his roommate, so he doesn't report him as missing. I was right here, listening to the whole conversation. He didn't say anything that could alert him, I swear."

 Šime laughed, a quick, sharp sound, before tightening his hold on Tin. 

 "You are such a fool, Rebić. Who knows what kind of code he and his friend have? He could have said anything! And you just let him," Šime hissed and Tin felt as if he was going to be sick.

 "A code? Šime, I have told you countless times, he is an artist. A college student. Why would he have a code? You aren't thinking rationally about this."

 Tin didn't notice at what point he started trembling and his breaths became jagged. He could feel the weight of Ante's worried gaze on him and the coldness of the steel of his skin, but everything was becoming one big blur.

 "Oh, I am not thinking rationally? Fine. Let's see what your little artist has to say about the whole thing. With a little encouragement."

 The knife cut into his skin- it was a brief, barely-there cut, just enough for him to draw blood. Tin gasped, his hand automatically going up to cover his throat. Šime caught it easily. but before he could even ask anything, they were interrupted. 

 "Šime. Let him go. Now," Luka said and Tin never thought he'd ever be so happy to see him again.

 He and Šime's gazes locked onto each other for a moment. Tin couldn't quite make sense of it. It didn't make sense that Luka, with his height and build, and how easily he got shot, could make Šime do anything. But something about the way he carried himself now made a cold shiver run down Tin's spine. Ante’s words from earlier echoed in his mind: he’s a good guy for the most part. Tin supposed this must be a glimpse of the lesser part. Šime let go of him suddenly, his legs gave out, and he fell to his knees.

 His hands covered his neck and came away bloody, which made his gasp for air once again. Rationally, he knew that the cut wasn't nearly deep enough for him to bleed out, but rational thoughts seemed far away and he couldn't catch them. His head was spinning more than ever and he was sure he was dying, and everything else came through a deep, thick fog.

 "Take him to the other empty room and stop the bleeding. Livi and Bruno will be here any moment. We have far bigger problems than someone reporting a college student is missing."

 There were hands on his elbows, but Tin tried to fight them- he didn't want anyone touching him. But the other person was stronger and Tin gave up, letting himself be dragged away. He was faintly aware of the door closing and someone close to him rustling through something.

 Enough time passed for his breaths to slowly return to normal, and then for his vision to stop swimming. He saw Ante rummage through a first aid kit and fish out a dressing that looked like a large band aid. Ante shuffled closer to put it on Tin's neck, but Tin caught his wrist in a bruising grip.

 "Don't. Touch. Me," Tin hissed.

 Ante wordlessly handed him the band aid and watched as Tin struggled to apply it without seeing his wound. But he didn't utter a word of complaint, and Tin was glad. He wasn't sure if he tried to touch him again if he would break down crying or break his wrist, but he was sure that he didn't want to find out. 

 "Are you alright?" 

 Tin snapped his gaze to Ante, disbelief evident on his face.

 "Am I alright?" Tin made a choked off sound, "someone just held a knife to my throat. No I absolutely am not alright! I don't feel like I’m ever going to be okay again!"

 Ante locked his jaw and stood up, starting to pace around the room.

 "You don't like this? Well, newsflash sweetheart, you should have thought about that before playing the hero for a criminal," Ante hissed, completely forgetting about trying to be patient with Tin.

 "I didn't know he was a criminal!" 

 Ante rolled his eyes, minutely pausing his pacing around the room.

 "Well then, maybe you shouldn't try to help people all the time. Especially when someone is trying to shoot them."

 "What do you want me to say? That I am sorry that I saved his life?"

 Tin paused, catching Ante's gaze, blue staring into blue. The sky and the ocean meeting during a storm. 

 "Because I’m not. I am not sorry for being a good person. If you want to question someone's life choices, you should probably start with your own."

 Ante sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. 

 "I can live with my life choices, Tin. I am not sure you will be able to do the same with the consequences of yours. Being a good person doesn't mean you will get out of this unscathed."

 Ante stopped, looking over at Tin, as if he was memorizing his face. He bit inside of his cheek and turned his head away, as if just looking at him hurt. 

 "And I don't think I will be able to tip the scale in your favor, either." He whispered, and before Tin could even begin to unpack what he meant, Ante turned on his heel and exited the room, locking it behind him. 

 Tin was left staring at the door, his tired brain trying to catch up on everything that happened. He was sure of a few things. He was kidnapped by the mafia, which was bad. He probably had no way of getting out on his own, which was worse. And lastly, the men who kept him there had no reason to leave him alive for much longer, especially since it seemed they had bigger problems already. 

 And last, but not least, if he somehow survived all of this, Andi was going to kill him. 

Taglist:

@morska-vjestica

 @hetapeep41

 @lycanrvc

@incelhugochavez

@wordpuddle 

[spider-bih]

Eleven Minutes.. [Peter Parker]

Pairing: Peter Parker x Female!Reader

Warnings: My angst has bust in full force thanks- flashbacks in italics in case thats confusing

A/N: I’m alive??? Works killer n i miss this crai- also, doing page breaks a diff way bc tumblr mobile refuses to show page breaks smh. No, I have not seen Endgame or any leaked footage so this contains no spoilers, (I did see it, since this was edited and made before and after Endgame, however, this will atill contain no spoilers and will continue in how I thought it would end <3) just vague mentions of IW and what an aftermath might be like idek

❝I’ᴍ ᴇʟᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇs ᴀᴡᴀʏ, ᴀɴᴅ I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴍɪssᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴅᴀʏ..❞

You assumed you shouldn’t be doing this, what with your state of emotions but.. if you didn’t, you weren’t sure if these emotions would ever settle. You had to have closure, even if the outcome wasn’t what you expected or wanted. Hell, you were barely sure what you even wanted out of this. What was the point? What was there to even gain anymore? Why were you lying to yourself when you knew you still wanted this?

There was so much you’d put up with on your end- and sure, maybe you had no right to complain. You knew what you were getting into those few years ago. You knew who he was and how he was, but still. You hoped you’d get him to see reason. You knew you would-

A teenager shouldn’t have to go through all that. Not even an adult should, but of course, perhaps an adult could better process it. An adult wouldn’t struggle so hard, and that’s only because their brains aren’t still working to fully develop themselves and the body they inhabit. Struggling with something so hard so young.. it does things to you and those around you. It does things to your relationships.

Funnily enough, the same could be said of a teen simply having a romantic relationship at all. Yet, the latter doesn’t have you bearing the weight of the world upon your still growing shoulders.

You struggled to hold that weight with him. Nights filled with the metallic scent and taste of blood were the norm. Those nights always felt panicky or hurt- those nights always caused arguments and overpowering feelings of helplessness. You weren’t built to be a damsel in distress, but you knew your limits. He surpassed them, but even he had his own, and as much as you wished they were endless, they weren’t. That night when he didn’t come home- that day when all the world saw was ash.. that was almost the final straw. How crazy is it that it wasn’t?

That months of mourning and horrific questions and theories, wasn’t entirely the cause of this? Months of staring out your window and just hoping he was lost and not.. gone. So much time spent feeling like you could have prevented it somehow- and feeling like you didn’t savor enough of the good moments. The hand holding, the sweet kisses and sweet murmurs of affection under stars- none of it felt like enough. Not enough to sate you or make you feel like yourself..

❝I’ᴍ sᴏ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴ sᴏʀʀʏ, I’ᴍ sᴏ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴ sᴏʀʀʏ..❞

Seeing his face again was almost like having whiplash- only ten times worse.

You’d only dreamt of seeing him again, of getting to touch him and feel his hands holding you close. Only in your dreams did you get to feel like.. he had never left. You wanted to punch him, but you also wanted to hug him. All you could settle for was breaking down. Your knees gave out from under you, and he caught your crumpling form, allowing you to thrash at him because he was sure he deserved it. You both knew he didn’t, but feelings never really align with logic. Feelings do as they pleased, especially when they decided to consume you.

You cried until you couldn’t- until your throat was scratchy and your body felt weak.

“I’m sorry..”, he tells you, and you just shake your head.

“I am too.”

He doesn’t know, and maybe he never will, but the sorry wasn’t for hitting him. It wasn’t for him having to see you like this. It was because he was one of many, that had to watch themselves go- only his was worse. You were sure his senses screamed at him, that his powers tried to alert him and or stop it all, but they failed. He had to feel himself wither away, and you could only imagine what that might feel like for a Junior in High School. For a growing young man.

“I broke my promise though. I want you to know I never meant to and you were all I could-”

“Please.”, you cut him off as quick as you could, “Please, I just.. you’re here now and I.. I don’t want to think of any of that..”

“Okay. I understand.”, he says, and he does. No one wants to be told they were the last thing to be thought of. True, it means well but.. no one wants to lose someone. They don’t want to think of their lats thoughts or last words. They just want them with them, alive and well. He did his best to give you that.

“Thank you.”

❝Yᴇᴀʜ, I’ᴠᴇ sᴇᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴ’ ᴅᴀʏ sɪɴᴄᴇ I ʟᴇғᴛ. Yᴏᴜ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ғʟᴏᴏʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴀɴᴅs ʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅ..❞

Days were hard and nights were long. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking that night. He just knew he had to fix this, his gut was telling him he needed to fix this. You walked through hell with him, held his hand while the whole world was engulfed in flames and he had the utter audacity to let you go? To let you slip through his fingers when you were doing your best to stay? To help?

He was in the wrong and he was sure of it. He was wrong for expecting none of his life to affect you. For allowing himself to think that because you’re not experiencing anything he has firsthand, that you had no room to say anything. You’d watched him get beat down- get damn near killed on a few occasions. Fuck- you even lost him once. You went entire hours and days and weeks and months just.. without him. Not from a break up or vacation or something normal. For you, he was dead, and something like that is horrifically traumatic at best, even if he was here now. No amount of promises can fix that. There will always be that bit of fear stuck in you, and you had every right to keep it there.

You have every right to tell him what you told him- to ask what you’ve asked.

He had no right to say what he said, and he’ll regret it his whole life long.

How could he say he didn’t need you? Lie right to your heartbroken face and get mad that you asked him to just once stop? To live for himself- to come home unscathed?

The broken look in your eyes absolutely broke him.. the sad soft tone to your voice- and then the anger. The bottled up rage and hurt, the venom in your words had absolutely paralyzed him, and then, in the silence, in the aftermath, he saw what he had done. He felt it when he woke up alone, warm sun on his back, but no warm body next to him. Soon the very scent of you was gone, your perfume no longer lingered, your clothes weren’t mixed in with his laundry basket- nothing. There was no trace of you.

It was a type of lonely he’d hoped to never experience. May stopped asking for you and only looked at him with sadness when you were mentioned. He never told her a thing- he assumed she figured it out, or maybe you told her.. he wasn’t sure.

He just needed you back, at any cost.

❝Aɴᴅ I’ᴍ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇᴘʀᴇssᴇᴅ, ᴀʟʟ I ᴡᴀɴᴛ ɪs ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴄʜᴇsᴛ..❞

“Oh, so you don’t need me, huh?”, you say, your voice is soft but tight, and he knows what’s going to happen next. He knows you well enough- he’s only taken in every last bit of you he could since he was sixteen. Only ever loved you since he learned what that was- what it really was. He liked to think you and him were the anomaly- a tiny percentage of teens that did know what love was..

“No. I-”

“You don’t? So you didn’t need me patching you up all those times so May wouldn’t lose her shit? So she wouldn’t flip the fuck out at her only nephew- at her only boy, risking his life constantly? Didn’t need me when you were as good as dead to the fucking world and May was so lost? Not last night when you were screaming in pain and couldn’t go to Tony because even he would tell you to cut the shit and let someone else handle it?!”

“He wouldn’t-”

“He would! You’re not doing this for the same reasons anymore! It’s not for your Uncle or May or even me! It’s only for you! Just for you because you’re still scarred from what happened and refuse to be beaten by anyone! You don’t want to feel helpless but fuck- think about how everyone else feels! We-”

“You’re all alive aren’t you?! Well and okay and safe, aren’t you?! I am doing it-”

“NO!”, you scream, and he goes quiet. The anger in him seems to just fizzle out. You’ve never screamed at him that way- the fire in your voice- the look in your eyes. It was torture.

“No.”, you hiss, “No we’re not okay. May is far from okay and I’m right with her. You’re throwing yourself at danger- you’re getting careless. The biggest threat to us all is gone Peter. He’s not coming back. He’s not in any of the villains you’ve fought. He won’t be in any future ones. You can relax- but you won’t. This fear is eating at you. You’re scared and you won’t even admit it anymore.”

“I’m not scared. I’m fine and I really don’t need you on my case about this. You’re better off leaving if you think I’m gonna stop. Go move on like you did when you thought I was gone.” The last part was a low blow and he knew it. You couldn’t know when he was coming back or if he was. It wasn’t even moving on. It was just doing what you could to not be drowned every waking moment of every day. Even if it meant laughing like nothing went wrong- like there was no gaping hole in your chest.

Even if it was with what friends you had left, even if, in the moment, it looked like you’d never missed him. Yes, he realized he was wrong when you gasped how you did. When you cried instantly and threw yourself into him- but some evil and minuscule voice in his head said it was lie. Though, that itself, was a huge lie.

“I can’t believe you’d-”

“Believe it.”, he had said, and by God he wishes he hadn’t.

❝Sᴏ ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴍᴇ sᴛᴜᴘɪᴅ, ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴍᴇ sᴀᴅ, ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇsᴛ I’ᴠᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴀᴅ. Yᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀsᴛ I’ᴠᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴀᴅ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴋᴇᴇᴘs ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ..❞

You never answer to unknown numbers. If they weren’t in your contacts and no one was set to call, they weren’t worth answering. Something in you had told you to answer the phone and for once- just once, you did. You almost hung up when your first few ‘Hello’s gained you no response. You didn’t know that sound of your voice sent him into shock for a moment or so. It had been so long since he heard it. He spoke so fast too, a nervous tick of his. Speedy and stuttery. It’s how he always had been, and you half-hated half-enjoyed the way it made your heart do flips in your chest. Butterflies rose up in you and you felt like a teen again.

It was insane how after all this time he still had you like that. How you knew his apologies were sincere and how you had missed him so so very much. he had missed you too- he was practically dying without.

“I’m like.. eleven minutes away from you by my webs I just- please. I want to see you- I want to talk this out. That was a low blow and I.. I was so wrong, about it all. I could use a break- I should have taken one- should have thought more of you and May when I was out doing what I was doing. I.. I don’t know about putting up the mask forever but.. I don’t need to fight everything. I sure as hell don’t need to fight you.. please.”, he had said.

“Okay but.. you’re only eleven minutes away from me if I keep driving like this for.. ha, eleven minutes. You’ll be farther if I just stop.”, you tease, just cause you could. You’d earned that much.

“... I’ll swing for a half hour- even longer just.. I miss you. I-.. god, please. I mean I understand but.. please..”

You sigh softly, unable to deny that you wanted this too, “I didn’t stay I’d stop driving. I’ll see you there.”

He lets out a breathy laugh of relief, “Great. I.. I’ll be there. Promise.”

“See you soon.”

❝Yᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴇʟᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇs ᴀᴡᴀʏ, sᴏ ᴡʜʏ ᴀʀᴇɴ’ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇʀᴇ?❞

“Maybe I deserve this..”, Peter sighed into his mask, overlooking the city from where he was perched. He had Karen keeping an eye out for you or your car. You had said eleven minutes. Karen detected one traffic incident but it was a route you never took. It was shorter, but accidents were frequent there. He didn’t dare look into what might be involved in that traffic incident. Not just because he didn’t want to be tempted to go check it out- but also because he knew his luck. He knew yours. He didn’t want to panic, but with every passing second, he was losing it.

All the worst case scenarios were running through his head. Every bad possible thing- because of course it’d happen. Of course the day he finally decides to call you- to get some courage and-

“She’s here.”, Karen says, and relief courses over him. You’re here and once he lays eyes on you he feels as weak as always. You’re still as he remembers and he swears it’s like you haven’t changed. He can feel you so near and you’d only just gotten there. Memories flooded through him and his longing grew. He missed you- oh fuck, he missed you so much. It took everything in him to not web you to him- but he couldn’t risk that, not now and not here. He had to make it seem like he didn’t notice you. You knew the drill. Years of being with him, you knew the risks and when it was alright to take them, now wasn’t the time. You had to play it safe. Anyone could be watching.

You stood by the building and waited like you were waiting on someone to come out. He kept his head forward but his eyes stayed on you. He was damn glad no one could see his eyes with the mask on. Karen kept a look out, being sure nothing was nearby. He had to wait on her all-clear, simply because his own emotions and wants fogged his rationality and focus, especially when it came to you. You’d always clouded his thoughts, even when he was out as Spider-Man. How could you not? You were and still are his everything. He’d always love you, even if this meeting didn’t go as he hoped. There was no one out there like you, there never would be.

“God- I want to jump down to her- she’s even looking at me with that little grin-”

“No, Peter. I have not given the all-clear. I am still searching and you have poor judgement with her.”

“Ouch, Karen- even you’re mad at me? Still?”

“I-”

Gunshots went off suddenly, someone was screaming about a drive-by but it wasn’t warning enough. He was up high and you were down there. He jumped but he wasn’t fast enough. Super-speed wasn’t in his arsenal of powers. Nothing helpful in the moment was, but he still tried. The very second he saw the gunfire nearing you, he jumped. He leaped for his very life, reached with all his might but you slipped away, stray bullets shocking you into falling. You fell right onto the concrete. People in passing were screaming- some started crying out of fear, dropping to the ground like flies. For every shot, three people went down. It was chaos and as selfish as it was, he only cared about you in the moment. Spider-Man wasn’t there, Peter was. Peter only needed to see you- he had to hope you were fine-

He hoped you were only grazed- begged for you to be fine.

“Please..”

He didn’t look, he didn’t pause, he went straight for the nearest hospital once he reached your limp body. Swinging high and fast- in a way he knew you’d hate if you were conscious- or just awake enough to know. You had to just be out from shock- nothing else- His adrenaline was pumping through him like mad- like never before. Harder than when he felt himself dying- quicker than anything ever. His breaths were ragged and raspy- raw and painful. His chest was tight and he had to fight to see through his tearing eyes. His fear was eating him alive, shaking his core and straining his muscles.

The nearest hospital seemed so far away. It seemed like thousands of miles- like his webs weren’t fast enough- and the warmth seeping into his suit wasn’t helping a damn thing. It was like it was weighing him down with every passing moment. Every second you weren’t yet at that hospital, he was losing his mind. Panic was absolutely consuming him and yet he continued.

“Please- oh my go- please- for fucks sake- not her!”

He screamed for a doctor once he landed- lost his mind as he ran in. He can’t remember what he yelled or who he scared. he didn’t care if this could get you labeled as someone Spider-Man knew. He could fight that battle later. He had to survive this one first.He had to let them get you on a gurney- had to ignore the splotches of dark red on you- had to forget how limp you felt. he only focused on your breaths, shallow as they were, they were something.

He hated that he had to change out of his suit- it meant he had to leave- and being alone was no help. He had to peel his suit off and ignore the feeling in the pit of his stomach. Had to ignore the sickening warmth that stuck to him- sticky and noisy but he had to ignore it. Hopefully it was his blood and he couldn’t feel it. Maybe he had been grazed. The blood on his palms couldn’t be yours. He’d never be so unlucky- not like this not now or ever. It couldn’t be this way. He had to remember that as he ran back in- as he put on the facade that he’d heard from some friends or something and had to know your condition.

He had to play positive thoughts in his head like a mantra in his head as he waited on news. You couldn’t go- you promised. Years ago, you promised you’d be his girl forever. Even when you two fought- even when he was being a damned idiot. You’re his everything- you wouldn’t leave him. You swore- you even agreed to see him after the stupid shit he said.This couldn’t happen. He loved you, you loved him- how rare was that? A love worth fighting for, a love that went through hell and back? A love people wrote books and novels about- full on series that ended tragic for shock value. That couldn’t happen to him- he couldn’t be some cliche. You would be damned if you ever became some-

“Mr.Parker..”

His head shot up, “Yeah?”

The silence the followed was deafening. His heart thrummed in his ears as the nurse who called him beckoned him to follow. The very halls made his senses go off- there were people just hanging on the brink- there were people morning- people talking to someone hooked up to machines with no promise of waking. People saying goodbye- he wasn’t going to say goodbye- you never said goodbye. Once you learned his secret, it was never goodbye, only ever see you soon. It was because you knew. Goodbyes weren’t something he ever wanted to hear with a life like his. With losses like his. Peter grew to hate goodbyes as dumb and cliche as that sounded. You didn’t care though, you let him hate them and made sure not to say it. You had the chance to when you left him, but you didn’t. You didn’t stoop to his level and.. well, you didn’t want it to be goodbye. He had forced your hand-

The nurse led him to the Doctor in charge of your care. His face made Peter’s heart drop.

“Is sh-”

“I’m sorry..”

❝I ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ sᴇʟʟ ᴍʏ sᴏᴜʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ..❞

“You promise you’ll be careful?”

“Only if you promise you’re my girl forever.”

You laugh softly and his chest feels like it might burst.”You’re silly, you know the answer to that.”

“Mhmm.. but I don’t? I’m oblivious, you know this considering you had to make the first move for us to even be like this.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “Well, you are right about that.. hmm..let’s see.”

He pouts, “Aw, c’mon, don’t be like that. You’re already my girl now, what’s so wrong with forever?”

You pretend to think, and it’s convincing enough to make him scared until you grin bigger than he’s ever seen. It was a smile he grew to adore, “Absolutely nothing Peter. I’ll always be here, even when you’re oblivious.. or dumb.. or-”

“No no, I get it. You don’t have to get specific.”

“You have to promise me too.”, you say.

“What?”

“Promise me you’re my dumb nerd forever?”

He makes a face, “Dumb nerd- I-”

“Promise.”, you insist, and he goes quiet, because now you’re serious. He gets why. He understands what you’re insinuating.His face softens and he accepts the rude description of him, only because you had called him yours.

He steals the softest kiss from your lips, grinning like a moron after, “You know better than I do that I’m only yours. Always. I was yours before you even knew it.”

“... You must think you’re so cool for kissing me first for once-”

“God- shut up! Let me live- just because you said those three words first doesn’t- hey! Don’t laugh! We were having a moment- I can’t-” and the rest dissolves into laughter.

In that moment he loved you so much, and he grew to love you even more. He wouldn’t trade you for the world. Not with you laughing like that- not with your smile like that. You were so beautiful then..

You were beautiful even now, as he laid you to rest with family, tears streaming down his face..

“You promised..”, he whispered, but no one could hear him. “You fucking promised and- god you were right there. I had you- I saved you- I’ve done it a thousand times why-”, he chokes on a sob, curling over to try and support himself but it’s not working. He’s crying out your name but you’re not responding.

You’re right fucking there, but you’re not moving and it’s absolutely killing him. You fought through everything with him- The Snap- villains that snapped his bones like twigs- beat him to a pulp. You were used as bait by a villain that knew too much- he saved you from them. From a falling building- from death- so what the fuck?

How is there no one for him to blame? No one he knew personally- no one but himself- but time and fate?

“It was only eleven minutes- god- I was ready to be done I swear- please- come back, I- Fuck.. god- I’m..”, he started to sob, “Come.. come home to me.. come... home with me..”

Everything was lost to sobs.. and not a damn soul could pry him from where you lay.

❝sᴏ ᴡʜʏ ᴀʀᴇɴ’ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇʀᴇ..❞

Making a new taglist soon but taggin @starksparker to be an ass. Also @grandmascottlang and @spiderboytotherescue

[blookmallow]

and now we return to outlast 2, where- 

THINGS KEEP GETTING SO, SO MUCH WORSE

(i have... a LOT im trying to process about this whole section sorry for upcoming text walls. really nasty #blood / #gore in here as well though) (i didnt realize i was This far behind on liveblogs lmao i drafted this. a while ago and didnt get back to it until now) 

---

so i fell off the bridge (shock. horror. who could have predicted this) and right into the scalled village

what.............happened to you 

fuCKING GO D

so it turns out “the scalled” are... some kind of leper colony banned from the town and left to fester and rot out here alone 

most of them are just lying around suffering and dying, i dont know what the fuck happened to them, there’s some mention of like. wildly untreated syphilis/potentially other stds they’re being told is their curse for the sins they’ve committed but does.... syphilis do that to you. it might actually be leprosy i dont know i dont want to research this. all i can think about is when i watched jesus christ superstar in high school and the leper colony song where they’re all crowding around jesus all trying to touch him REALLY freaked me out for a while

i mean its like. probably a combination of disease left horrifically untreated and massively infected given the absolutely appalling conditions these people are living in (everything’s run down and full of blood and shit and who knows what else), starvation, who knows what they’re even finding to eat out here so that’s probably causing even more disease but still jesus christ

at first it just made me really sad, sure these people came from temple gate too so they were. fucked up cultists to begin with but a lot of this is like... result of longterm emotional and mental abuse and manipulation, some of these people might not have started out as depraved evil murderers, and like. nobody deserves to live like this. except knoth lmao throw him down here, but

so i thought maybe it would turn out that you realize they’re human too, they’re just in a fucking LOT of pain and maybe you can’t do anything to help them (i dont think there’s any hope for anyone down here at this point) but maybe they’d turn out to be on my side and do something to help me fight back against the leader who abandoned them, “the most absolutely fucked up looking people are actually the most human” kind of thing but uh. that is not how things went. at all, 

ill get into How Fucking Bad this got in a second lmao but like

most of them dont really do anything to you other than bleed on you and beg you for help, some people lash out but thats like, understandable given the horrifying state they’re in, but

as it turns out, being the “scalled messiah” is a VERY bad thing, they went from occasionally lashing out at me to outright tracking me down to murder me to death which, like, honestly kind of disappointing

bc one of the things i liked the most about the first outlast was how many of the prisoners were clearly just victims too, some of them (lookin at you, naked twin guys,) were just evil and murderous but some of them were just very very mentally unwell (exacerbated by horrible living conditions and the fact that the people who were supposed to be protecting them and helping them recover were actively, intentionally working to make their symptoms worse) and couldn’t really be blamed for acting violently toward you, but

then sometimes there’s people who warn you about dangers ahead, people sitting in corners hiding and scared and wont hurt you unless you give them a reason to think you might be a threat, people just trying to stay alive, people who need help 

but that’s. not the case here, and there’s definitely a particular kind of horror in “absolutely no one in this hell town can be trusted, nobody will help me, everyone here wants to hurt me and every time i think ive made any kind of progress it gets so much worse” (except that ONe guy who tried to protect me. im still sad about him) but. i dont know i feel like there’s a missed opportunity here. im not sure if im supposed to feel like the scalled deserve to be like this because of the kind of people they were before, but i dont. i feel like the “what the fucking shit HAPPENED to these people” horror is heightened by the realization that they’re people, and just kinda using them as attack zombies is. missing something, somehow. i dont know, i cant figure out how to word what i want to say here 

i mean its absolutely fucking horrifying, i was scared out of my mind going through all this, and i still gotta give props to a video game experience that left me legitimately feeling like i needed to go take a shower and crawl under a blanket for a while 

i guess ultimately with outlast im coming here to be scared shitless more than anything else and boy did they ever fucking deliver

ok im gonna stop bc i will keep talking in circles about this forever if i dont, moving on

WHAT EVEN ARE THESE GUYS, APART FROM COMPLETELY TERRIBLE

im guessing theres some kind of... inbreeding birth defect situation going on here but i cant even process what im looking at 

that and its hard to look at them at all considering the only times i see them im getting murdered to death. my panicked screenshots hoping to get a better look later did not help 

PRETTY SURE THEY JUST MADE HIM DRINK THEIR BLOOD, 

how the fuck has my dude not thrown up like 90 times already. im glad he hasnt bc im bad emetophobia but outlast 1 did it so im honestly surprised that hasnt happened unless ive just forgotten it in the blur of nightmares im going through here 

OH

THAT’S... NOT GOOD

THAT IS REALLY, REALLY NOT GOOD

FUCK SHIT MOTHERFUCKING FUCK

i gotta say im impressed with how FAR they GO with this one, i have no idea how much game i have left but considering this isnt even the ending i am HORRIFIED to see what the fuck is gonna happen next 

i mean outlast 1 has you getting your fucking fingers sliced off and whistleblower has. That Scene (even though like. it stops before waylon actually gets cut its REALLY CLOSE)  

this whole time i kept thinking something would happen and they’d get interrupted, I’d escape somehow, they aren’t really going to have the player character get literally fucking crucified from your own perspective,

but then the nails go in 

and you’ve got one hand literally nailed to a cross

and then they start the other one 

and i was like, WOW FUCK, THEY ACTUALLY DID IT, BUT NOW HE’LL ESCAPE... SOMEHOW.... RIGHT ??? 

but they lift it up 

and you’re hanging there 

and for a second i legitimately thought it was gonna end there for him, i thought he was actually just going to die there and the game would continue with lynn or something (which, to be fair, would be a pretty cool twist, but i dont WANT blake to just die here like this) 

ANYWAY!! FUCKING GOD, THAT SURE HAPPENED 

but against all odds HE SOMEHOW DIDNT FUCKING DIE, and managed to find the strength to rIP HIS HANDS OUT OF THE NAILS AND FALL DOWN

i cannot fucking IMAGINE what that would feel like. i dont want to imagine it but i sure the fuck am now 

i dont know if its possible to like. die from bleeding out in this scene if you dont find the bandages fast enough but it sure felt like i was going to 

fucking hell i can practically feel it in my real hands i HATE THIS i HATe it

god. fuck. im gonna be thinking about this scene for the rest of my life i didnt think anything would ever be worse than the finger slicing scene in outlast 1 but this. i think this wins

wHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!?!??? THERES SOMETHING CHASING ME IN THE SCHOOL FLASHBACKS NOW IM NOT EVEN SAFE HERE ANYMORE

WHAT *IS* THAT??!??

w OA h

i still have no IDEA whats going on with these flashbacks either, clearly his classmate hung herself and he feels subconsciously responsible for it because he didn’t do anything to stop her (though it doesn’t sound like he Could have done anything, and. they were kids), there’s definitely some buried trauma he never dealt with thats resurfacing now but

i still dont think its just a manifestation of trauma, because like. the recordings are still coming out as fucked up static, if he was just having really intense hallucinations there wouldn’t be any record on the camera, it would just be him filming nothing and talking to himself through a panic attack, it wouldn’t be getting consistently corrupted ONLY during the flashbacks so what the fuck is happening 

COLA

DRINK IT

i m losing it its the cola machines from the first game i diD NOT EXPECT THESE TO BE HERE 

what the fuck is christian salad 

you didn’t think i would see this, outlast devs, you thought you could hide this on the menu board and i wouldnt notice. i did notice and i demand answers

NO!!!! THAT IS THE OPPOSITE OF OKAY THIS IS THE LEAST OKAY I HAVE EVER BEEN IN MY LIFE 

WELL!!!!! OKAY!!!! ALRIGHT!!!! NOW THAT I’VE BEEN LITERALLY FUCKING CRUCIFIED, FELL DOWN A HILL AND STRAIGHT INTO A FENCE OF BARBED WIRE, GOT DRAGGED OUT HERE AND BURIED ALIVE, CRAWLED MY WAY OUT OF MY OWN GRAVE AND NOW HAVE HOARDS OF DISEASED ZOMBIE NIGHTMARE CULTISTS SEARCHING FOR ME SO THEY CAN DEVOUR MY FLESH, LET’S GET GOING, SHALL WE 

THIS IS FINE!!! EVERYTHING IS FINE I CANT SEE SHIT AND THERES NOTHING BUT TREES AND BARBED WIRE EVERYWHERE AND NO INDICATIONS WHATSOEVER OF WHERE I NEED TO GO BUT IT’S F IN E IM DOING GREAT 

[glowstickhaloboy]

i’ve committed to my format with raphael!crowley and i’ll die with it, too. AND IM SORRY ITS SO LONG.

(also the show uses he/him pronouns for michael, i believe, and i’ve chosen to do so as well bc i think its neat)

((ALSO, if you have no idea what the context is for this post, its a semi-continuation of this series))

sometimes, there is a gap. gabriel will turn to express a half-thought, and find himself wondering who he meant to speak with. there’s no one there.

three facts have remained for six thousand years: the first maintains that a brother is a brother. the second that a traitor is a traitor. and the third fact concludes that only one of those things may become the other. there is no place for traitors in heaven. and there is no merit in dwelling on thoughts of what is no longer possible.

gabriel likes efficiency--advancements that break no mould. he is the safest bet in any given room. protocol and principles, that’s what he’s made of, and he sticks to them rigidly because it’s... easy. easy as a miracle from the human’s point of view. to break ranks is to break through the mission statement of heaven into a gray area, and the walls upstairs are always freshly painted white. gabriel makes sure of it.

michael likes results. there is nothing more beautiful than a bottom line. bottom line: the world ends. bottom line: the angels win. bottom line: god no longer does the heavy lifting the way angels do, and so what the angel’s do in god’s absence is not to be held against them. they were, after all, stepping into a job they were not qualified to handle with little to no notice. a bottom line is beautiful because it makes simple a messy world.

bottom line: there is mess. bottom line: angels remove the mess.

bottom line: raphael would have complicated that.

no, michael does not miss his fallen sibling. and he refuses to talk about it. and he makes sure that gabriel does not talk about it, either. after all, what is there to talk about? what’s done is done, and they’ve got their hands full juggling someone else’s job, but if they don’t do it, then it isn’t done, and the world ends the bad way. where no one wins because they’re all dead.

gabriel is the leader. michael is the strategist. between them, they can scrounge enough brain power together to cover for raphael, who was meant to be the creative one.

too creative. creative enough to start... asking questions.

too feeling, always too feeling. “passionate” they used to call him. but then what happened, happened, and “passionate” became a roadside cliff in need of a guard rail. michael and gabriel were that guard rail. their fallen sibling was a cautionary tale.

the thing about falling is that sometimes you see it coming, and sometimes it blindsides you. lucifer’s was not a slippery slope, but a gradual and palpable decline. for years before, whenever he’d walk out of a room, the angels left inside would put their heads together and mutter about what’s the almighty going to do about that one. raphael’s, on the other hand, was blink-and-you-miss-it. he was here one day, gone the next. there wasn’t even the time to think about whether you wanted to say goodbye.

(if he decided to be a traitor, after all, then you needn’t regard him as a brother.)

and time went on. despite the shock, the world kept turning, and the stars kept burning, and nobody said raphael’s name. not for six thousand years.

it was hard to keep up with new demons. bad enough having to encourage every baby-faced cherub day-to-day (but not too hard, otherwise they ran the risk of becoming “passionate.” passionate didn’t matter. just loyalty. loyalty keeps heaven heaven.) the first time gabriel hears the name “crowley” he thinks nothing of it.

“a demon?” he asks sandalphon. “check and see who’s available, sort of... low and on the same level. no need to exert the effort of someone actually important on a simple demon.”

sandalphon agrees easily and makes to depart, but gabriel sticks up a hand, thoughtful. hold on.

“aziraphale,” he says. “he’s on earth, isn’t he? have him take care of it. perfect busy work for someone so eager to please.”

sandalphon smiles gold.

meanwhile, michael? michael doesn’t even remember. deleted the name from his mind the second it first entered. unimportant. bottom line: demon.

but after the armageddon that never was, the name finally sticks. and no matter what michael might have said at that demon’s trial, there is nothing more dangerous than an unchecked enemy. he keeps an eye out. and for awhile, there’s nothing out of the ordinary. just a never-was-an-angel and a soon-to-be-demon spending too much time together on a planet that was never theirs.

bottom line: ?

so michael goes to gabriel for help.

“i need to understand what happened between these two,” he says. “make some sense of it. find out how dangerous they really are.”

and gabriel turns to the left, and frowns in thought, like he is surprised to find no one there.

“gabriel?”

“it’s nothing. just a passing... are you sure there is cause for concern? they’re two outcasts. nothing more. no threat to us.”

“i would like to... speak with them.”

“then speak we shall.”

they arrive on earth. it is easy to find aziraphale because he never left the bookshop.

“hold on,” gabriel cautions as they approach the door. the sign says closed. there’s an intimidation as hot as hellfire emanating from it.

“do not let them see your cowardice,” michael chides, and pushes through. bottom line: answers are needed.

the door creaks and cuts off two voices. and two figures appear.

“oh!” says crowley, glancing sideways at aziraphale. “look at that. the gang’s all here.”

aziraphale looks momentarily stunned, which only makes michael’s brain fight harder to understand. he pushes forward.

“crowley. aziraphale.”

aziraphale bristles. “i do believe the sign said closed.”

“we are not here to indulge your human fantasy. we have come to--”

“ask for the towel back?” crowley interrupts. “no good. it’s long gone. i’ll pay for another one. do you take updog currency?”

“what’s updog?” gabriel asks.

“nothing, but i do deserve a high five for that one.”

“not now, dear,” aziraphale whispers to him.

crowley squares his shoulders, glaring through the two archangels. “right, straight to business then. we don’t care why you came. leave now, and we might let you go alive.”

aziraphale begins to react in astonishment, but michael and gabriel beat him to it.

“you should not threaten angels so easily,” gabriel says.

“i’ll do what i want,” says crowley. “fair’s fair, right? i’m just dishing it out as good as i get. doing as you do.”

“crowley,” aziraphale protests.

“where do you get the nerve?” michael all but growls.

“oh, probably from my time in heaven.”

if anyone else in the room were the snake, there would have been hissing. “don’t invoke that holy place,” gabriel says.

“you lost the privilege,” says michael.

“geez!” crowley throws up his hands. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say this was personal! come on, are we going to forget the past that easily?”

“you have no past.”

“you are forgotten.”

“you’d think we three grew up with me hogging the telly, eh?” crowley asks aziraphale, the same way a zookeeper teaching schoolchildren might ask an obvious question to a turtle.

and michael and gabriel are blindsided.

“oh.” crowley tilts his head. “you really didn’t know. funny, that. almost.”

“it can’t be,” says gabriel.

“impossible,” says michael.

“hello,” says crowley, twirling five fingers, and then settling on showing them just one.

“demon,” says michael.

“oh, yes!” says crowley.

“but also,” says gabriel.

“oh yes...” crowley finishes.

he’s scowling now. darker. his anger crackles into lightning on the street outside, and black wings unfurl like looming shadows. michael and gabriel stare at them as though trying to discern something underneath. an origin to the stain, or a clean patch.

michael blinks first. bottom line: demon. he says, “you will not expect any special treatment from us.”

crowley shakes his head. “i was never special.”

(it may be that gabriel flinches at that. too long ago. too hard to tell.)

aziraphale, certainly, makes a noise at the back of his throat, but crowley shakes his head the slightest amount. an indication to let him handle this.

“you just can’t quit betraying your side, can you?” michael asks. “what did you hope to achieve? you are an abomination. you were cast out for a reason. and you will never be allowed back in.”

gabriel double-takes, but still says nothing. he looks like a man found on the side of the road with no memory of how he got there. lost. confused. aged.

“i don’t want that,” crowley says. “i’m better than that, now.”

“better than heaven? blasphemy,” michael chides.

“demon,” crowley replies.

and gabriel can no longer keep silent.

“you let me speak with you at the human airbase,” he says, agitated, his purple eyes glowing slightly. is he needing to keep his emotions at bay? what could he possibly feel for crowley? surely they were no longer each other’s kin. “we looked each other in the eyes, raphael.”

“crowley,” crowley and michael correct him at the same time.

gabriel looks appropriate aghast at himself. “crowley,” he amends, and then continues, “this is--i mean, you were--you are--this is just evidence of how far one may fall.”

“funny, i was about to say the same to you.”

“you have no authority to judge us!” michael says, seething. “do not forget your place. if you are not an angel now, you never were. not at heart. not truly. give me one good reason not to smite you where you stand.”

aziraphale steps in front of crowley, chin raised high, and says immediately, “i won’t let you.”

“angel, pl--”

crowley puts a gentle hand on aziraphale’s shoulder, but even that, aziraphale shrugs off.

“gabriel,” he says. “perhaps you can understand this. crowley has changed, yes. he is no longer an angel.”

“he doesn’t feel love the way we do,” michael interjects, and crowley’s head pokes out from behind aziraphale.

“when’s the last time you had a warm, fuzzy feeling, then?”

“michael, i believe i must depart,” gabriel says softly. he still looks like he’s been stranded inside a life that he does not call his.

michael says, “yes, do.”

and gabriel disappears.

aziraphale sighs and steps back at crowley’s side, holding crowley’s wrist tightly. crowley takes the hand and squeezes back.

“guess some people just can’t take the heat,” aziraphale mutters.

crowley shrugs. “well, you know what they say. if you can’t take the heat, stay out of the boiling sulphur pools. maybe he did what’s right by him. maybe seeing me just scared him a little too badly.”

“angels fear nothing,” says michael, even as his eyes hint toward something different. his jaw works. he takes a moment to control himself and then asks, “is this how you were able to withstand the holy water?”

aziraphale quietly snorts. crowley squeezes his hand again, this time in warning, and says, “you didn’t really think i was going to answer that one, did you? and might i remind you that all i asked that day was to be left alone.”

“you may think you still belong in this world,” says michael, shaking his head and glaring at their conjoined hands, “but you do not. and aziraphale, one day you will pay dearly for your choices. fear the future. for when that day comes, you, too, will be erased from heaven. anditcan’tcometoosoon.”

the breath rushes out of him, and michael, too, is gone.

the bookshop stands sturdy and proud. crowley swings up his and aziraphale’s hands, kissing the back of aziraphale’s, and loudly declares, “well, that was dramatic. weren’t we going to go and look at a cottage this afternoon, love?”

[villainau]

both aus / general

very soft hair when it’s not styled but you can’t touch it unless you’ve caught him when he’s sleepy and/or just waking up because you will be assassinated

his uncle’s surname is trumble so tbh valeska probably wasn’t lila’s real surname. she’d have changed it to sound more “exotic” in the circus. but let’s thank god for that and the fact that the twins are valeskas

doesn’t tend to lie because he’s more the “cruel honesty” type, but is a very good liar when he does - not as good as jeremiah because lying was always jeremiah’s forte, but jerome can easily put on an act or think up a story on the spot with enough detail to make it convincing 

can easily go days without sleeping, and when he does fall asleep it’s only in his actual bed like 40% of the time

throws all of his red clothes in with jeremiah’s white clothes for washing constantly

swears so often. can easily say “fucking” twice in one sentence and throws one use of “shit” in there for good measure

no short sleeves outside ever. in private maybe, but not for long

his favourite colour is red, but he actually kinda likes pink too, especially hot pink

his first word was “miah”

villain au

lowkey hates being touched from behind e.g. pats on the back, a hand on his shoulder, etc, especially unexpectedly (and just hates the feeling of being snuck up on in general). he’ll stiffen like hell and the only people who can get away with it without him reflexively whacking their hands off of him are jeremiah and bruce, but they tend not to do it anyway because they can tell he doesn’t like it

absolutely had a super embarrassing doodle of a heart in his diary with “j + b” inside it, along with some v crude scribbles of things like him and bruce holding hands and them stabbing someone

Scary Kinks tbh. knives, pain (both others’ and his), blood, whatever, he has very little sense of limits. he is honestly not above even sticking a gun in your mouth if that’s what he’s feelin’. he’s only done that with bruce once, during the rebellious phase and the early days of the physical stuff, when he was still pushing limits and seeing how far bruce was really willing to go here and there weren’t a ton of Romo Feelings involved; he’d straddled bruce on a chair and he put the barrel of a pistol to bruce’s mouth, expecting nervousness or panic or some kind of reaction along those lines - but bruce just maintained steady eye contact and opened his mouth slightly, with no fear and watching him right back, which basically resulted in jerome thinking oh and yep, brucie’s something alright, grinning and throwing the gun off to the side to be ignored while they got on with Things. he wouldn’t do that with bruce anymore though - as dangerous as their lives generally are and as much as he loves that, he’s far less willing to go carelessly pointing loaded guns at bruce himself these days

does not like being tied up during NSFW Activities because he hates feeling confined/trapped and not being able to move his arms and not feeling in control because it’s too vulnerable, but bruce being tied up is Another Matter Entirely

lowkey praise kink. will either tell you to shut up or find Ways to distract you from talking if you actually try it, but is secretly kinda into it because he requires positive feedback in Most Things

identifies as bi but really couldn’t give a flying fuck about gender. if you’re fun and you can give him a good time, the rest is background noise

is annoyed when people are taller than him, so he avoids standing directly next to people who are too often (but on the other hand really likes standing next to shorter people because he likes to make it obvious that he Wins)

takes the fact that jonathan is the only person in the team taller than him as a personal threat. once idly mused to him about the possibility of sawing off his feet so he could be superior and just got a very deadpan try it. look and decided “…….maybe some other time”. it was probably a joke anyway. like 90%.

despite having a boyfriend who wears black almost exclusively, he pretty much never wears black himself. he’ll occasionally wear dark suits or one item of black clothing or whatever, but he always has something in his outfit with colour and tends to go for brightness over anything else

sends awful memes in the team group chat at 3am and no one thinks they’re funny except him and jervis. sometimes ivy does, and she occasionally sends a nice response even if she doesn’t just to be polite, but other times they are just Too Bad even for her

does also pm ivy Nice Things that remind him of her though, and these she does like. he also sends her random pictures of animals and flowers w captions like “is it just me or does this beanstalk kinda look like jonathan” and she can’t help giggling a lil at some of them and then feeling bad for it

master of the ironic “UWU” and “OWO” emojis and everyone else hates it

him and jervis are the only people jonathan actually responds to on the phone (other people can call him but he’ll just silently listen to what you have to say and then hang up, so it’s in the air whether he even heard you or not) and he finds it disproportionately funny that jonathan once answered the phone with “whomst.” instead of “hello”

he never self-harmed in the sense of cutting, but he also doesn’t have the same reservations about causing himself pain that others do, so he’s done things like put out cigarettes on his wrists/hands, test the sharpness of knives on himself, etc. and physical pain can be something of a release for him

generally fearless, but he was genuinely scared of his mother, uncle and the men his mother had over - killing lila and zach helped with a lot of this and made him feel like he’d won. he still gets a little on edge when someone reminds him of them in speech/appearance/personality, but he’s more likely to use it as an opportunity to prove to himself that he has power over the memory of lila/zach and that they can’t hurt him anymore by getting one over on the person in question too

in the very early stages of the abuse, he coped with it by believing that his mother loved him no matter what and clung to the hope that it would all stop one day and she’d sober up and love him properly. it sinking in that she didn’t love him at all and that it was never going to change was one of the things that ended up contributing to his eventual psychotic break

what is a stable self-esteem? jerome doesn’t know. can go from calling himself garbage to calling himself a god in .0002 seconds

tried to strangle an arkham therapist once because she brought up his childhood abuse and kept pushing him to talk about it and he just lost it. after that, all attempts at therapy for him were dropped

has an uncomfortable amount of knowledge about how to set broken bones and put in dislocated joints because there were times in the circus when things got really really bad and he should have gotten hospital treatment, but obviously nobody would have taken him, so he had to learn to do even the serious shit himself. early on, he came dangerously close to seriously fucking himself up and making his injuries worse more than once thanks to his amateur first attempts at fixing them

people in the circus were kinda-sorta aware of what went on with his mother, but basically just didn’t care; it wasn’t their business

touch-starved. one of the reasons he reacts so strongly the times when bruce is super gentle with him is because literally no one has ever just touched him softly before (and generally he isn’t used to being touched at all without pain immediately following) so at first it’s almost too much

generally isn’t affected by his facial scars and isn’t self-conscious about them at all, but is very used to other people finding them scary/unpleasant so was genuinely thrown off-balance the first time bruce traced them and called him beautiful

surprisingly, he can actually cook - he had to make his own food a lot in the circus when he was younger, it was either that or scrounge from the circus food stalls, bc lila sure as hell wasn’t making him meals - he just chooses not to anymore because, frankly, he can’t be bothered 

he and bruce don’t really ever say “i love you” in so many words. they know what they have going on, so why would they need to verbalise it all the time when they already know it’s there? jerome’s really not into that kind of thing anyway, and honestly bruce isn’t the most emotionally open person either. bruce was the first of them to acknowledge and accept how he felt, and never denied it when asked by someone else, but he knows jerome and his background and thus never said it first in order to avoid pushing him into territory that may be uncomfortable for him. but the first time either of them said the words to the other, it came, surprisingly, from jerome, spur-of-the-moment - one of the nights he spends in the city with bruce alone, doing the dark shit they do. at one point, bruce slit a man’s throat in a particularly vicious way; jerome was at his shoulder, watching how he did it, and it came out without him really meaning it to: “god, i fucking love you.” bruce might not need to hear it, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel good when he does - he made sure jerome had no chance of trying to play it off as a joke by turning around and promptly distracting him with a kiss. ...blood-covered and all.

has some experience with sleeping rough because sometimes lila would just kick him out because she didn’t want to see him that night, so he had to crash with someone else in the circus if they took pity on him or find somewhere else on the grounds/surrounding streets. he’d venture back a couple of days later when he knew she was out, and she’d come back and see he was there - she wouldn’t say anything and would basically just blank him, and that was the cue that he was safe to say

used to cry a lot and got called a crybaby by other kids in the circus when he was very young. over time, he taught himself to laugh whenever he felt like crying, and it got to the point where it was just an ingrained thing, so instead of breaking down and crying, he would get half-involuntary laughing fits instead. he got into a mindset of “everything is hilarious if you just think about it for long enough” as another coping method, because why should he be sad when everything in the world and everything that is happening to him is so damn funny? 

doesn’t happen often, but very occasionally he sleep-talks and says some weird shit and bruce is just like “……..Alright.” he never remembers this in the morning

sleeping position varies depending on the time period. he’s either curled up on the very edge of the bed and taking up as little space as possible without falling off, or he’s sprawled out over the entire thing, and there’s no in-between. the ‘taking up no space’ thing is left over from childhood, but bruce notices this and the longer he’s with bruce and the more comfortable he gets with him (and the more it sinks in that, no, there will not be Consequences if he just lets himself relax - because he does a great job most of the time of not showing any vulnerability over his childhood, but when it comes to night-time and sleeping with someone else there, old habits and fears kick in a little at first), the more he just becomes The Most Fidgety Sleeper Ever. bruce gets smacked awake by his arm in his face a few times, but he has figured out a Solution - if he intertwines his fingers with jerome’s or shifts jerome’s arm down to his waist or something, jerome will just latch onto him in his sleep because warmth. no mentions of this in the morning allowed though, and he was definitely not cuddling, never call it that, he can’t control what he does when he’s asleep, BRUCE  

still has nightmares sometimes - nights are when he’s at his most vulnerable basically, so bruce knows damn well that jerome letting him see that side of him is a gesture of trust

is lowkey intimidated by ecco because that girl picked his ass up when he was unconscious and dead weight, so she could absolutely pick him up while he’s fully awake, and that’s just too much strength for such a tiny woman. he will never admit this. tries to scare her instead because he has a reputation to uphold and is eternally annoyed about the fact that she doesn’t seem at all affected (but he’s convinced that she’s just hiding her fear really well)

high school au

climbs through bruce’s window a lot unnecessarily because he doesn’t want alfred to open the door. alfred usually finds out he’s there anyway, so he would be perfectly fine just going to bruce’s house the normal way, but he likes to pretend that he’s being sneaky and thus cool 

watches a lot of stand-up comedy but is also the world’s worst critic and constantly makes comments about how he “could have made that joke better” or “there was a better way to word that”, which is what originally kickstarts the idea of going into comedy himself

………hm………. concept………. jerome w a pierced tongue………

watched twilight “ironically”. team edward if he had to choose, but thinks both edward and jacob are idiots and will get into an argument about this. will also legitimately debate about vampires vs werewolves. thinks that there should have been a big bloody fight at the end where everyone died, because if there is no violence/gore it’s a shit movie, this is a non-negotiable rule of his

has a fondness for gross/creepy creatures. he’s not at all scared of spiders and will kidnap the bigger ones in glasses and attempt to keep them until jeremiah (and later bruce) makes him put it outside. he’ll straight-up pick up a spider and let it run across his hands while other people scream about it

before bruce and elijah come along and before things start to change, he’s essentially living for jeremiah. if it weren’t for the fact that he has to look out for jeremiah and would never leave him in that environment alone and the fact that they promised each other they would always be there for each other no matter what, jerome’s lack of self-preservation would be a lot worse than it is bc without that to keep him tied to something he just wouldn’t care

when they were very little, the twins had a habit of sneaking into each other’s beds to sleep at night, usually after it had been a bad day with their mother and something had happened. they grew out of it when they got a little older, especially jerome once he stopped being so open with vulnerability/affection, but it was still a comfort that they slept near each other thanks to their caravan being too small for anything else so they knew the other was close-by. once jerome developed a habit of sneaking out at nights, this was also how jeremiah would often hear him leaving or would wake up and immediately notice he was gone

no one will play mario kart with him anymore because he gets ridiculously competitive and ruthless and he has no honour. he will shove you off of your seat so he can overtake you while you’re still getting up.

the only people who can tell him and jeremiah apart by voice alone are bruce and elijah. if anyone else calls their apartment, it’s just impossible to immediately work out who’s answered the phone at first unless they throw in a really obvious mannerism. if the person who picked up the phone is speaking with their mouth full and answered with “yo wassup”, it’s probably jerome. that or jeremiah’s finally broken.

speaking of phone calls, jerome is a nightmare when jeremiah is expecting a work call. if jerome gets to the phone first, it’s just: “is - is this mr. valeska?” “…you’re gonna have to be more specific, pal.” “…the j. valeska that i was supposed to call–?” “nope, pause, do better than that.” then the caller has to wait on the line while they hear “[muffled voice in the distance] JEROME, IS THAT THE CALL I SAID WAS IMPORTANT” “i dunno, maybe. i wasn’t really listening” “i SPECIFICALLY TOLD YOU NOT TO ANSWER THE PHONE IF IT RANG WHILE I WAS SHOWERING” and then vague sounds of clattering and voices before they get a flustered jeremiah on the line like “i am so sorry”

jerome is by far the messier twin, so his room is always a heap of dirty clothes and food packets and empty bottles/cans, but jeremiah can get really fixated on his work so his computer desk and his work-spaces are just full of papers and documents and empty coffee mugs. whenever he gets on at jerome about cleaning up after himself, jerome’s like [WILL SMITH POSE @ JEREMIAH’S DESK] WHAT ARE THOOOOOOSE

jerome and elijah have been to the hospital so many times because of the stupid shit they do that they’re basically on a first-name basis with a bunch of the doctors and nurses. whenever they come in, it’s like “oh, what have you boys done now?” (but really the nurses all love them bc they’ve charmed them and their stories about what happened this time are always hilarious)

bruce cooks sometimes and jerome “helps”, by which i mean he sits at the kitchen counter and just gossips to him, plays on his phone and/or watches him without actually lifting a finger to do anything - until he gets bored and things end up burning because bruce gets Distracted. eventually bruce enlists him to help chop vegetables and stir things because if he’s here, he can be useful, and jerome’s like “hmm what do i get in return?” so they develop a barter system where [x] activity gets jerome [x] amount of kisses and thus things actually get done while satisfying both of them without too much distraction. the only issue being that jerome keeps a) raising his prices and b) insisting on getting rewards for the most ridiculous shit now, like passing a bag of carrots over the counter because it’s just “SO MUCH UNPAID LABOUR, BRUCE” 

still has moments where he reflexively flinches if someone significantly older/bigger/taller than him moves too quickly or suddenly, though people around his size/age or less are fine

is actually more self-conscious about his burnt hand than he lets on. he puts on a front like it doesn’t bother him, but the fact that he’s usually wearing fingerless gloves or has a bandage wrapped around it or has his sleeves pulled over his hands when he can’t have either of those says something. he actually managed to keep bruce and elijah from seeing it for quite a while, since that would have been harder to explain away than other things - they noticed he usually had his hands covered but didn’t think it was for a particular reason beyond it being a Jerome Quirk. one of the most notable things that happens in the future when things start to improve is that he stops wearing the gloves and eventually actually lets bruce hold that hand, whereas before if bruce tried he’d usually pull away and switch sides so bruce could hold the other

the others convinced him to see a therapist after he was officially diagnosed and unexpectedly he agreed (mostly to get everyone off his back), and he was assigned to a relatively young woman called bee. he didn’t expect it to accomplish anything and basically spent the first few sessions being an uncooperative shit and turning everything back on her and giving her smartass answers to her questions. it took a long while, but she eventually proved to be Cool and Funny enough for him to start warming up to her - which didn’t mean he was any more cooperative with the therapy side of things, but it did mean he started to use the phone number she gave him to text her about completely unrelated things in the vein of “holy shit bee you’re not gonna believe what miah just did”. she went along with it and their sessions morphed into jerome mostly giving her Gossip or them having casual conversations - but girl knew what she was doing. he gradually started to talk about bruce, jeremiah and elijah, about his relationship, about school, about the circus, and eventually opened up more about certain things that happened. he never quite got to the point of discussing his feelings about the abuse in-depth (though he did end up telling her a fair amount abt how he felt about bruce) but all in all therapy ended up having a positive effect on him, though bee was v talented at letting him think he wasn’t really giving her much info and that every realisation he came to during their sessions was down to him alone and not because he was talking things through with someone

likes hugs/cuddling/hand-holding much more than he will ever let on

never completely stops smoking, but he does tone it down after they all leave high school. he’ll smoke with other people and sometimes when he’s really bored or waiting for someone, but it’s not one of his first methods of passing the time anymore. trying to get him to stop drinking is a lost cause, though.

[le-sejour]

Assumptions

Words: 1,530+

Pairing: Thomas Jefferson x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, cheesy/bad flirting, kinda sexual thoughts lmao, my writing AHAHA

A/N: Just wanted to do a funny little TJeffs imagine bc I can’t seem to have enough of the imagines out there. So I decided to add my own prompt based one to the mix. :>

The prompts I used:

45 - Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.”

171 - “I’m sorry, what were you saying? I keep getting lost in your eyes.”

And

208 -  “It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.”

I hope you guys like it! c’:

Being a Hamilton was a lot of work.

More specifically, being the younger sister of a protective, overachieving Hamilton was a lot of work.

The words on your book seemed to swirl together into an incoherent mess, your eyes straining to make sense of the chaos. Groaning, you shut your notebook dejectedly and reclined in your seat.

None of this made sense to you, at all, but of course you have to keep trying.

It’s what Hamiltons do.

Or at least, you did. Your brother didn’t have to try, he probably would have been done learning this chapter weeks ago. You felt the familiar pull of anxiety pressuring you into becoming at par with your older brother but you desperately pushed it down before it could come up.

Leaning further back against your seat earned you a satisfying crack. How long have you been hunched over this dumb book anyway? Checking your phone, your eyes widened at your notifications and the time.

“Christ…” You muttered, miserably staring at the “8 missed calls” seeming to taunt you. It was nearing midnight and you’ve been chilling in the coffee shop by your campus for more than 12 hours now. Alex was going to be pissed.

Not that he even had a reason to, anyway. Your apartment was just down the road from where you were. But that doesn’t deter his innate need to become both your mother and father all at once; fussing over you before scolding you for being out so late. You sighed, stuffing your things into your bag leisurely.

Well, you were already in for a treat at this rate. Might as well take your time. You just hoped the boys were there with him to somehow soften the blow, knowing only they could reign in your brother when he gets like that.

Why oh why did you even insist on taking this elective this semester, anyway? You were already juggling a full courseload and a part time gig at a campus food truck, you didn’t need any more reason to go bald. And yet, here you were.

Absentmindedly, you tossed your half empty coffee cup into your bag before the realization dawned on you that you should not have done that.

“Shit!” You quickly fished out the now empty cup from your bag, letting out another long string of expletives as you yanked your things from the now slightly damp bag in panic.

“Do you mind?”

“Go suck a fat dick, asshole.” You replied almost instantly, wiping down your laptop with already soggy tissues before groaning. Letting out a whispered “duh”, you sprinted to the counter to grab some dry ones this time.

“What are you doing?” When you returned to your table, this mass of curls and rudeness was holding your precious baby in his hands as if he owned the damn thing. With your brain already in a tizzy with just seeing a stranger holding the lifeblood of your education, all that came out of your mouth was a “That’s not yours.”

“Your welcome, darlin’.” He teased with a smirk on his face as he handed you your now dry laptop. “I suggest using whatever lives inside the space between your ears next time. Would be a shame if this happened again and the guy you told to eat a dick didn’t help you out.”

That seemed to kickstart your brain into functioning again.

“Yeah well I didn’t ask you to come here and try to play hero, did I?” You glared at the man you now recognized as Thomas Jefferson, the bane of your brother’s existence. Or so he says, anyway. You’ve had two classes with the guy, and you can kinda see what your brother was talking about. “Why are you even here, Jefferson? Shouldn’t you be off kicking puppies and making babies cry or something?”

“Now whatever gave you the idea that I spent my leisure time doing something so… unsavory?” He asked, his brows furrowing in confusion for a split second before a smug look replaced it. It had happened so fast, you weren’t sure if it even happened. “Besides, the only babe I want to hear crying tonight would be you, doll.”

“I-“ You felt your cheeks heat up from his comment, naively not expecting the man to make any lewd comments at your expense. You decided to busy yourself with wiping your bag down instead of standing there, looking like a blushing fool. “I’m not going to dignify that with a response. Besides, shouldn’t you be more… I dunno, ‘I’m not talking to the peasants’ kind of guy?”

“You seem to be making quite the assumptions about me and yet, I haven’t even had the pleasure of getting your name.” He pointed out in a charming little drawl that had your stomach flipping pancakes.

Fuck.

Okay, hey, you weren’t going to lie. The man was attractive as fuck, from the head of curls to his dark, commandeering eyes, carefully trimmed facial hair, and that body. God. Let’s not forget that voice, though, a honeyed baritone that sent your stomach postively churning with desire, and good Lord his accent just amplifyed it all. (MY VOICE KINK IS SHOWING I’M SORRY) His attitude, however, could use a little (okay a LOT of) polishing.

But what’s the harm in indulging yourself a little bit? You know you could never fall for the man, his personality alone repels your heart from that very notion (aka he’s an asshole and you’d rather not get involved with all that). Enjoying the attention, however, doesn’t necessarily involve that certain part of you.

“[Name]” You praised yourself for not stuttering, wadding up the soiled tissues into a ball before once again loading your stuff into your now coffee stained bag. “And I suppose you’re right, I am boxing you into my assumptions. Can you blame me though? Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy on campus, and your actions don’t exactly redeem you, either.”

A meticulously groomed eyebrow rose at your words, a smirk still on his lips as he leaned against the table, “You’ve been watching me? Why Miss [Name], I must say, I didn’t expect that from you. Though I can’t say it’s entirely unwelcomed. You’re free to watch me as long as you’d like, darlin’.”

“Don’t get any ideas, Jefferson,” You rolled your eyes, slinging your coffee stained bag onto your shoulders now. “We have a couple of classes together. And really, that’s enough to see what everyone’s always going on about.”

“Oh?” Thomas looked like he was mildly interested to hear your thoughts of him. He’s never really noticed you during classes, as he opted to sit with his friend James Madison up front, but hearing you talk so candidly about who you think he is both amused him and intrigued him. If you had been anyone else, especially Alexander, he would have already put you in your place yesterday.

“You’re arrogant, abrasive, and you seem to think so little of everyone who isn’t you. You constantly intentionally get into fights with Alexander, you have this habit, or should I say hobby?, of using people like pawns on a chessboard, and-”

Now, there were a few things you need to know about Thomas. One of which is that he prides himself in always coming to classes, meetings, dates, and what have yous, in the perfect state of mind and on time. But as he stared at you going off about how he was practically one with the scum of the earth, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to focus on anything you were saying.

Instead, he noticed the way your lips moved as you formed the words that sullied his good name. He etched into memory the way your eyes blazed with passion as you continued your tirade on him, and the way your eyebrows furrowed when you-

“-ot listening anymore, are you?”

“I’m sorry, what were you saying? I keep getting lost in your eyes.” He silently applauded himself at the smooth recovery, throwing in a wink for good measure. He couldn’t seem to help it though, he’s never seen anyone talk shit about him while looking so beautiful. Not to mention, you hardly sounded like you had some personal vendetta against him. That meant you were about as much threat to him as a baby rabbit.

Aaaand there goes the pancakes in your stomach again.

Fuck.

You bit your lip, willing the flames in your cheeks to die down before they blossomed on them once more. Feeling that you were going to lose that battle, you hurried to move past him, heading for the door.

“Y’know, Jefferson? It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line. It’s sad, really. And to think I believed the rumors about your skills.”

Oh ho! He felt his smirk stretch into a very smug, very self-satisfied grin. If that wasn’t an invitation to prove you wrong.

“Back here on Wednesday at 4pm. I’ll show you exactly why those rumors came about.”

Without answering, you walked out the door knowing one Thomas Jefferson was still lounging on that table with the most conceited, wolfish smile he could muster because he knew. Oh he knew very well that you were coming back. The bastard.

You felt your heart flutter at the thought.

F u c k.

FIN

[bigbrothernetflix-st]

EPISODE FOUR

“ ‘something will be unleashed’ are u gonna start KILLING PEOPLE??” - saira

HOH: Nick UPSIDE DOWN: Emma & Kiki NOMINEES: Monty & Saira POV: Jev FINAL NOMINEES: Monty & Saira EVICTED: Saira (1-0)

JOSH C

well, we just voted out GINA and i'm feeling some kind of way about it. i feel like the push to save emma was VERY quick and i think there are a lot of alliances going on that i'm not involved in which is FINE but it's just something i need to watch out for. i know i talk with almost everyone constantly so i think i'll be okay for this week, but i'm just worried about the people that i enjoy.

a lot of people have said they don't talk to saira or brianna so i wouldn't be shocked to see them both go up, which is FINE i guess but i enjoy both. i don't want saira to leave at all but i don't think she has as GOOD of a social standing as brianna does. which is worrisome because i know this is her first game so she doesn't have any pre-existing relationships to save her which is.. not ideal.

i'm finding things a BIT frustrating because i have to navigate not ONLY game thoughts but people's pre-game relationships. not that i'm knocking anyone for them but almost everyone i've talked to says they don't talk to monty but they wouldn't want to see him nominated. i just don't FULLY understand why we can't nominate him but they're friends with him so he's a bit UNTOUCHABLE. i might push it anyways because he's the only person i don't really talk to anymore. WHO KNOWS.

i've felt like a deflated balloon for most of today so maybe i'll just go with the flow on this but i need to make sure i'm not just voting out all the people who will be votes for me later on. 

ARIA

Im small, bitter, and very angry...but spite is the best motivator and im going to use it to win this season. Anyways i miss saira im SICK of trusting nicks, i see a nick i FLOOR IT!!! I refuse to have a nick fuck me over in a game again i am so over it. But hehe anyways lets get into the info spilling section real fast and then i can analyze because my position has drastically changed from last time-

also sorry for repeated info but sometimes i forget things or people say it again so..

-nathan leaked "all" his alliances to me (Screensht is cut weird i think theres one he cut off)

-Jacob found out my gina connection

-perfect voting record is dead (told jacob i voted out gina tho idk why hehe)

-kiki-joey connection 

-emma knows about bri's backups because jake leaked it to her before he left

-josh c IS EVERYWHERE

-nick says they havent talked to bri

-nick likes jev

-nick wants (more so wants others) to take a shot at kiki/nash

-nick said nathan is a wildcard 

-joshua nommed monty and nash

-STOP UNDERESTIMATING JOSHUA

-told josha jacob is protecting him

-joey exposed saira's deal to me and bri

-joey wants a larger alliance

-bri said they like nick,,,but that conflicts earlier info so im thinking peer pressure or just bri is too sweet for this cast and i adore her-

-bri told nathan her noms

-nathan hates bri and for wHAT??

-jacob has a dpov and used it to cement a f2,, AND DID THE SAME THING WITH BRI FFS 

-jacob scared of nick and jev

-kiki and nash tell everything to jacob

-jacob said emma and joey have a connection??

-jacob thinks nick is gonna join the emma jev joey side (his words)

-jacob thinks monty is a threat

-jacob ranked the players in tiers as follows: 

A kiki jev bri

B joey joshua nathan

d: nash saira monty

-bri talks a lot with kiki and josh c

-told bri about the trio between jacob kiki and nash

-joey told me yesterday he wants to win,,,but then just said to take him out

-planting seeds against joey to bri

-jacob wants to bring dpov up with alliance at f10

-joshua and jacob were shook saira was evicted

-told jacob that joey asked to throw

-jev and jacob are getting closish

-jacob is so threaten by nick

-jacob told bri that nathan doesnt like her

-

and thats where im at currently. Lots of options and lots of interconnections I have to navigate but i think im gonna be fine for the time being which makes it super easy to just be complacent and float my way to jury BUT!!! I want to try setting myself up well where i dont get clocked at f9/10 and wabam im out. Im trying to set people against each other subtly but honestly i think im overestimating myself here but at least i know im safe. I mean for now im trying to set up this side of jev emma joshua to at least form together as a group but im STRUGGLING i might just have to settle for them keeping each other safe without a solid alliance ig. At the same time I think i really have two actives pieces of info im working with which is emma knowing about bri's backups and then me and bri knowing about jacob's dpov.

So i think what I want to happen is that Jacob wants to dpov nick out at f10 so i'll let that happen probably which puts a huge target on jacobs back, idk if its anon but if it is ill make sure bri leaks it kinda framing it in a "if you leak it and i pretend to not know i can analyze how other people respond so we'll know what everyone thinks" and once jacob leaves emma can leak the bri's angels (which should be weaker at this point since jacob is the glue that holds it together a bit) which #1 makes a bunch of good players house targets and then forces those people to solidly stick together as well. Not sure how im gonna play both sides but,,,,if i can play it off kinda like i did in pasio somehow maybe i'll be fine but who knows. Either way im here to have fun (and hopefully win for gina/saira)

WELL WELL!!! just did a vc with jacob, he decided to take matters into his own hands and be totally cracked and now thinks nick/monty/nathan are a side,,,,which,,,,idk yall nathan did show me all of his alliances and none of them were that but who am i to stop jacob from making himself a target by leading this charge against them uwu. I do need to be more proactive about leaking tho but im not sure how im gonna work that. Also im not sure if i want nick/monty/nathan all gone, i can live with monty gone bc they probably think i nommed them and might want revenge but also nick and nathan are kinda cute numbers for me,,, 

I mean idk because at this point i have a game relationship with mostly everyone left in this game and im just not sure which path i need to take to get to the end yet and its kindaaa stressing me out a little bit. I can feel myself starting to drop in peoples trust rankings a little bit and god its kinda annoying how jacob has this game wrapped around his finger, however i dont need to be in a dominant position this entire game i believe in myself!! I got this easy peasy!!! 

JEV

My reverse psychology paid off and I won the veto so I'm loving that for me, I'm not going to be using it because I'd preferably like to see Monty leave because I just... never see them and I think Saira is much more deserving of her place here than Monty is. It's frustrating that Monty is cruising through this game so easily because we haven't spoken to eachother since day one, and they haven't even bothered to come and speak to me to campaign for me to use the veto. Like, do you want to be here or not?

Thinking about it more, I'm super happy I won the power of veto. I managed to ensure myself and those I'm closest to in this game weren't going to be named as renom and kept Monty up there as a final nom, which I'm worried otherwise wouldn't happen during this game since people seem either threatened by Monty OR a little over-eager to keep him around in this game, which annoys me but whatever. I just hope whoever wins HOH has the balls to make the right decision, better to get him gone now rather than later.

JEV

So I think I've had a little bit of a brainwave/breakthrough. This is gonna be longwinded so hear me out.

Apparently from what I've heard, the nominations this week were revealed in order of who recieved the least to the most nominations from every

one. This is extremely interesting to me, as I've taken note that Nick, Aria, Jacob & Brianna were 10th-8th in the rankings of votes respectively.

First of all, I haven't made secret that I think something is going on with the Pasio alumni. This was highlighted when I was asking around for what people were doing for nominees, and from everyone I heard Saira/Monty, but from two people I heard Saira, Nash, Joey & Monty -- with Monty strategically placed last in the ranking, to give the illusion his name was the least uttered. Funnily enough, the two people I heard this format of the names were Nick and Aria who just happen to be Pasio alumni... interesting, right?

So looking at the ranking, I'm thinking "okay so they obviously didn't do eachother, and with Nash/Joey in 3rd and 4th respectively, they must've not expected so many votes on Monty and didn't plan accordingly, and so split the votes too much and didn't have enough to put up Nash or Joey over Monty. So I'm thinking, I know there's a connection between Jacob and Monty because I used to play orgs with them on Skype. Jacob used the veto on Brianna last week, this has brought me to the conclusion that Monty, Nick, Brianna, Jacob & Aria are working together with the possibility that Josh C is either playing both sides or is fully with them too, hence why he recieved the least votes.

That places Myself, Emma, Kiki, Nash, Joshua, Joey & Saira on the outside, and Nathan too as I'm guessing he's strayed from their alliance and/or wishing to work with them, hence why he recieved 5th most votes. 

I'd love to make an alliance with this group of people, but it's still only pre-jury and I don't want to be seen as playing too hard too soon.

(cont.) So I initially wasn't going to go for this HOH, but I feel like I need to because I can't trust anybody else to make the move to take Monty out, and I'd rather see their numbers thinned sooner rather than later. It would paint me as their #1 target for next week probably, but if someone I trusted won HOH next week then I could go to the upside down and not have to worry about it.

JEV

Yes again I'm so sorry, another thing that was interesting to me was that I mentioned to Aria that I was close with Emma, and she asked for an alliance with the 3 of us almost immediately after, stating that she was also "very interested" in working with Emma too. This tells me she's the mole and wanted the alliance to try and get intel from us, I don't believe for a second she did Saira/Monty along with me and Emma at all, which is why myself and Emma are hesitant to say too much in that alliance chat. So I like Aria, but I don't trust her as far as I can throw her.

HOST WEEKLY CAST ASSESSMENT

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hL__dyRaq2E&list=PLFEwPPy8j010XXwntq80VSU0qLNTNpSIN&index=5&t=0s