#blame my gold fish memory

[thatone-brightstar]

More than all the stars (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader) (The Bear & The Fox Series)

Chapter 3: My darling, my dearest, my dead.

Words: 4k

a/n: Hi, hello!! so we finally meet the dreaded ex and even though you can imagine who you like, since writing it i always had Oscar Isaac in mind bc THAT MAN MAKES ME FEEL THINGS and also he makes one hell of a villain so you can't really blame me.

anyway, enjoy the chapter and remember that reblogs and comments are the way to show appreciation for your favorite creators and lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!

Chapter 2.

He could have done more than just stand there- looking at her with that stupid expression over his face- the one many use when all the words have evaporated into thin air. But then again, what could he say, especially to someone he assumed he’d never see again? Her expression sat stoic, apart from the slightly raised eyebrows waiting in expectation, there was nothing in her face that revealed the storm inside her head.

“So?” She spoke over the ringing in his ears and brought him back from his memories. “You gonna say something or just pretend I’m not here?”

“Uhm, H-hey…?”

“Hi.” She repeated with certain disdain and a dry smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

He felt like a fish out of water, mouth rounding around the words but never able to truly push them past his throat. “Wha- what uhm, what are- uh…”

“I’m on holiday.” She answered for him and shrugged, cutting his torture short, though he thought that was more than he deserved. “I wanted to see what the great Beef of Chicagoland was all about…” Ross added and let her eyes wander from his to the dimly lit and emptied room.

Something about her analytic gaze made him stand straighter and rub the back of his neck in anticipation for her verdict. 

“We’re, uh, renovating.”

Ross offered a single nod and a weak hum as her serious expression landed back on him. “Makes sense.”

A still silence fell over them again, forcing Camry to fidget with his knuckles and take another long drag of the already wavering cig. He wondered if the lack of conversation had always felt so stagnant between them- like the middle of July- or if time had truly taken a toll on their interactions. He heard her shuffle against the newspaper covered glass once more, but didn’t dare to raise his head until she spoke again.

“I heard about your brother…” She started, cracking her knuckles out of habit. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“S’fine.” Carmy answered instantly, the words had already nestled into a permanent space in his mind, but at least for her, he knew they were genuine. “Thank you.” He said and added “I’m sorry for, y’know… everything.”

A slight curve around her mouth broke the cold glare settling over him and despite the somber tone around them, the simple action let a wave of fresh air pass into his lungs.

“What part exactly?” Ross asked, digging her palms into the back pocket of her jeans and moving slowly in direction to the dusty counter. “Leaving with no explanation? Not even letting me know you were alive… or for being an overall idiot for as long as I’ve known you?” 

The refreshing bluntness of her tone pulled out a soft chuckle from his knotted chest and he couldn’t help but nod in agreement. Carmy reached again towards the packet resting beside him and lit another tube between his lips, waiting, as if the words were magically hidden between the embers and smoke. 

As she waited for an answer, Ross pulled out the stool a few feet beside him and took out a cigarette without asking, it’s not as if he would have said anything anyway, at least nothing other than:

“You smoke now?”

Ross shrugged again and sucked the smoke into her mouth. A gleam from her left hand caught his eye. Carmy couldn’t help the surprised expression falling over his face at the sight of a thin gold band wrapping around her delicate finger, or the shimmering stone that was placed upon it. 

He signaled with his head in direction to ring. “That’s… new.” He said.

She pulled her hand back at arms length and admired the perfectly polished stone with a new spark behind her eyes, as if the owner of said promise reappeared in her memories each time she looked at it.

“Yeah… you remember Frank?” 

Carmy’s expression grew even more surprised at the mention of his former co-worker. The one that Ross, if he remembered correctly, didn’t even give the time of day. 

“Yeah…shit, Frank?” He asked, incredulous. 

“Ugh, gross no.” The girl answered and Carmy’s shoulders fell in relief. “One of his cousins.” 

Her eyes went from the shimmering rock to the plastic covered pop machines they had yet to take out and Carmy could almost see the memory of her lover replaying over her softening features.

“We uh, we met a month after you left… I guess it just clicked.” She shrugged and finally turned to him.

From up close, he could see how much her face had truly changed. There was little trace of the jovial features he had known, yet the spark in her eyes remained. It wasn’t for him anymore though, that much he knew, and it would have probably affected him more a year ago than it did then. 

“Finally someone my age-“ Ross joked and slightly swayed in his direction. Carmy sniggered back, relieved that the tension was slowly withering away. 

“I’m glad.” He responded sincerely as a gentle smile unfolded over his features. 

The girl nodded slowly and smiled back, tearing her gaze away and refocusing it back to the lit tube dangling from her fingers. 

“How’d you know?” He blurred out the thought that had been kneading itself in his head for a few weeks now.

“What?”

“Y’know… that he’s- that they’re, y’know-”

“The one?” She answered for him in a teasing tone that made him roll his eyes but nod back.

The room went quiet as she thought, only his foot continuously tapping against the floor in angst was heard. Ross’ brows slowly raised up as her eyes examined his nervousness closely, then she turned her body fully towards him and leaned against the counter.

“I dunno, honestly.” Her response was simple and he tried to swallow discreetly so as to not show his disappointment. “It’s different for everyone.” She reassured. His eyes rose expectant to her face once more. “I felt… peace. Like I can finally breathe and I’m not struggling to hold my head above the current anymore.”

Carmy knew the feeling she was referring to, the consistent pressure crushing his lungs that no amount of cigarettes could numb out but that suddenly, the single thought of you, fixed. The weight that fell off his shoulders as soon as he crossed the entrance to your home and the glee on your face as you saw him, that was the peace she was referring to. You weren’t the bandaid that temporarily taped up his shitty moods, but the whole damn antibiotic that eradicated the virus altogether.

“Listen, I-” Ross stopped abruptly to gather her scattered thoughts, exhaled loudly, then continued. “I just wanna get it off my chest. I did like you, Carmen, like a lot, but… we would have torn each other to pieces.” Her sigh came out like a nervous chuckle.

He nodded again and swallowed hard, taken back. “Right- yeah no, definitely.”

“With Jonathan it’s easy. It’s like breathing, just second nature. And in spite of everything that went on with us, I still mean what I said before… I do hope you find that one day.” For a second, her features softened into the girl he had known more than a year back, the one who had truly seen him when no one else had. 

Your face instantly appeared in his mind. That morning at the farmer’s market, the cold breeze had tainted your soft cheeks pink and the fuzzy knitted scarf swallowed half your face whole. His chest felt like it could concave suddenly and he felt like an absolute idiot for not realizing it sooner.

An uncontrollable grin spread around his face, raising his flushed cheeks up to his eyes. He coughed slightly to clear his throat but it only fused with a soft snigger that filled him with an unfamiliar warmth.

“Yeah…” He exhaled as his eyes caught the same shimmer as the stone. “Yeah, I think I have.”

“I’m glad.” Ross repeated his words back, nothing but honesty clear on her face. 

**********

The dull and foggy sky mirrors your mood as you mark your steps over the cobblestone, bouquet held tight in between your gloved hands. 

You haven’t visited since the funeral, it had been too painful to do so. One loss after another had been enough to topple your fragile mental health and you were sure that if you had visited before being ready, it would have guaranteed a similar headstone beside hers. Despite the slight jittering of your fingers though, you’re sure of every step you take, careful to move around the more weathered graves.

Your heart leaps in your chest once you spot the space reserved for your grandmother. The headstone is more dramatic than the ones that surround it, but then again, she never did anything small. There’s a carved limestone angel that guards her sleep as it rests with crossed arms over it, wings wrapped around the slab. It still looks relatively new, despite sitting in the hard Chicago weather for a year and part of you feels guilty for visiting after so long, but you know she would have understood. 

Your nose has started to freeze with the chill wind and you use one gloved hand to wipe away the rogue tear that tickles your nostril, before slowly stopping in front of the grave. 

“Hola abuelita.” You whisper and sniff with difficulty. “Te traje Claveles.” 

The dead grass snaps quietly as you sit cross legged and lay the vibrant flowers right under her name. With empty hands, you begin to play with the loose threads of your worn out gloves as you search for something to say. ‘Not like you can hear me, anyway.’ you think to yourself bitterly, then a humorless chuckle escapes when the image of her, slightly smacking the back of your head, comes to mind.

“Sorry.” You reply instantly, as if she could see your thoughts. “I’ve never been good at this sorta thing, you know me.”

The morning is mostly quiet, despite a few chirping birds and the light traffic that sneaks past the trees, everything is still. 

“Nice place you got here…with the shade n’ everything- Mom says hi. I asked Papi si quería saludarte, but he says he’ll come by next week as always.” Your throat begins to close up and you try to clear a pathway with a few subtle coughs.

You reach out to clean off the few petals that fell from the dried flowers your grandfather left last week and another batch of tears bundles over your bottom lashes. You’ve always admired their love, the kind that transcends even after the other is gone, because ‘til death do us part’ doesn’t really carry any meaning when you truly love someone.

A softer smile takes the place of the teary one as the memories of Sunday mornings sitting between them and watching old movies invades your mind. She’d braid your hair with dexterous hands as you watched various men porcelain their love to a young Rita Moreno through the black and white screen. The whiff of coffee and cigarettes from your grandfather felt like home and the loving whispers they’d share with one another behind your back put the prettiest bird songs to shame. 

“A lot’s happened since you left…” Your voice carries out through the wind, but you like to imagine that it's taking your words to her. “I met someone- not the asshole I told you about, you were right about him… someone else. His name’s Carmy. You would’ve liked him, Papi does, pero ya sabes como es, he won’t admit it. He’s been through a lot, but he’s still really sweet. He’s a fighter… I think he’s the one.” Your epiphany goes quiet in the secluded cemetery and your heart starts to beat even faster as the words sink in.

You’ve come to the conclusion that the bad thing about being surrounded by so much love is you’re always searching to replicate it. Your grandparents loved you so much, that the need for a father never even crossed your mind, and they loved each other even harder that all you ever wanted growing up was a love like that of your own. You went through countless partners in search of “the one” and always came out empty handed, but she was always there- with her cafecito and old movies- to pick you right back up. 

What scares you now is that she isn’t there to pick you up if anything were to happen anymore, and after Isaac, you’re not sure if you can go through another broken heart as bad as that one.

You huff out a hard sigh and wipe your cheeks a little too hard, tainting them pink. 

“I’m sure.” You repeat again a little louder to drown out the critical thoughts. “No- yeah, I am. I am.”

The distracting vibration from your phone pierces the calming silence and gives you a chance to leave the vexing thoughts behind.

“What-”

“-the fuck did you do?!” He yells from the other line as soon as you answer, making you pull the phone away from your ear.

“Hello to you too J-“ 

“What the fuck did you do-” Your brother interrupts again and you roll your eyes. “-I just saw that lanky tall guy from your old job drop my mom off at the house!” 

“Really? That was fast…” 

His frustrated groan vibrates across the receiver while you unfold your legs from under you and stand up. You place a quick kiss over your fingers and place it over the tombstone before moving back to the entrance. 

“I don’t know what the big deal is, she’s an adult, she can go out with who she wants.”

“Yeah, exactly. Who she wants, not the first asshole you put in front of her.”

“Oh, you jealous you’re not the only man in her life now, huh?” 

Joshua scoffs and you can imagine how he impatiently rolls his eyes before mumbling a ‘fuck you’.

“Fuck you too, dude. Why don’t you get a life and stop worrying about what my mom does with hers.”

“Fine- but when she comes home crying cause that fucker broke her heart, Imma send her straight to you.”

“Fine!”

“Good!”

He doesn’t wait for another response before ending the call. You shove your phone back into your coat with a huff and pull your car keys out instead.

**********

There isn’t much you can do during the winter classes. Since the day recedes to night earlier than usual, the courses have been shortened to an hour long, which then shrinks to 45 minutes after trying to get the kids settled into their stations. Only after months on the job do you  finally understand the vexing task of a sheep herder.

By the time the sky has gone from blue, to orange, to an angelic lilac, only two little ones remain and you’ve been making the most out of their cooperative nature by having them haul their drying works into the back. They do so excitedly, between debates over which dinosaur is the best and why it’s the T-Rex. The conversation brings a smile to your face as you hear their voices slowly fade away from the inside storage. 

It’s a few minutes past 8 when the bell from the entrance door dings and a sigh of relief exits your chest. 

“In the back!” You call to whoever arrived.

While the echoing steps move closer, you turn with your attention fully on the jar of paint that doesn’t want to screw on correctly. Once you get it right and the steps have stopped a few yards away, you look up with a kind smile that vanishes as soon as your eyes settle on the man in front of you.

Your lungs have stopped working completely. Your fingers hold a deadly grip on the jar, bending the plastic with enough strength to turn your knuckles white. Without taking your eyes off him, you blindly settle it back down on the cart and try to regulate your racing heart and breath.

The moment you see him again, everything stops in the most terrible of ways. It feels like standing by the edge of a panic attack, but not falling all the way through, just feeling the waves of cold  sweats traveling down with every heaving breath. In an attempt to ground yourself, your fingers dig into the rough fabric of your apron, instantly absorbing the wetness of your trembling hands and for a second you swear that if you were brave enough to look down, you would find your guts splattered all over the wooden floor.

“Hi Uncle!” The little boy rejoices once he spots the man and walks to your side, oblivious of your hardening gaze on his guardian.

You swallow down the sickening sweetness that your afternoon tea had left in your mouth. “Kenny, where’s your mom?” You rub a hand over his hair with a forced smile.

“She had  a late meeting.” The man’s strong voice vibrates through the walls with little effort, the sound ringing in your ears.

“This is my uncle Isaac.” Kenny adds as if you didn’t already know and the simple mention of the name rips your gut open once again.

You keep your eyes glued on the child, thinking that maybe if you don’t acknowledge the man disturbing the room, he would vanish into thin air like a mirage. ‘Or combust violently’ the voice in your head muttered viciously.

“Can you be a dear and take the last reference pics to the back? Inside the red basket, please. And then grab your bag, okay?” You indicate with a last gentle pat over his shoulder.

He salutes then runs to the doors and out of earshot. With another shaky breath you turn back to the paint cart and try your best to swallow down the knot of bile that has begun to grow.

“I need a permit from his mother to let him leave with a stranger.” You state as calm and collected as your growing anxiety allows you.

His deep chuckle reverberates through the crystal walls and lands on your skin, chilling it to the touch. “What, so I’m a stranger to you now?” He asks.

“You’re nothing to me as far as I’m concerned.” You scoff as you push the cart back to its original place, doing your best to calm the nausea that the memories of seeing him at the charity event are causing.

“Oh, cut me some slack, I’ve been trying to apologize.” 

“Yeah, and what’s that good for?” You spit out instinctively, turning around with new found irritation.

The look on his face is full with triumph and your palm itches with the need to punch the smug off his dumb face. You wish you had the same courage as that night, when you followed him out the gallery with every intention of denting his jaw, but that kind of bravery only comes with alcohol and there is unfortunately none in sight. 

“C’mon Fox…” He says through a sly smile and takes a step towards you, immediately making you take one back.

“Don’t call me that, you don’t get the right to call me that after what you put me through.”

There’s a stare in your eyes that would send any sane man running for the hills, but Isaac has always been anything but. He takes it as a challenge instead, tilting his head to the side like a hunter analyzing its prey, with a toothy grin that exposes the canines in an almost charmingly vile way.

His eyes drag slowly down your body with an obvious gesture, one that has you crossing your arms over your chest to shield as much as you can from his view. “Then what can I call you? Mi amor?” He says instead.

“Call me nothing, no soy tu amor.”  You mutter through gritted teeth and move quickly around the room to finish collecting the last of your supplies. In the back of your mind, you rush the kids to finish quicker, but their debate keeps them too entertained.

“Oh, but I recall how much you used to love it.” His words slither out with venom and his eyes narrow in satisfaction when he notices you stop fully in your tracks and give him another angry stare. “Did you forget how much fun we used to have?” 

“I remember how you fucked up my life-” You remark over his words, but he speaks over them again. 

“Remember when I took you to The Met?” With each word, the bile in your throat feels more inevitable, clawing its way higher up. “How you thanked me so well for the trip in those lacy blue-”

“-Yo babe, sorry I’m so late-” His booming voice invades the room as soon as he appears past the exhibitions, bringing a wave of fresh air into your dying lungs. “-Cousin finally got the permits from Cicero so-”

Ava’s excited footsteps charge out the back and towards her dad, followed by a calm Kenny carrying a Spiderman backpack. The excitement from the children is enough to trigger your migraine but it doesn’t matter because you’ve never been more thankful for Richie’s terrible time management skills. 

When he finally has his daughter securely in his arms, Richie’s eyes dart from you to Isaac, finally feeling the thick air that stays stagnant between you. 

It only takes him a second to notice your stance, the hardness of your jaw and the menacing stare you give the man beside him. “Am I interrupting anything-“

“No.” You’re quick to answer. “They’re just leaving so…”

Kenny stretches his hand up to take your high five goodbye and promises Ava they’ll finish their debate tomorrow while Isaac doesn’t move. He’s still, with a defiant gaze that feels like minutes, then he swings Kenny’s bag over his shoulder and takes a few strides in your direction, stopping less than a foot away. You don’t retreat this time and despite the height difference that’s more obvious up close, you eye him down with all the anger you can muster. 

He pulls something you can’t see out of the pocket of his coat and brings it up to your view. The signed permit rests between his index and middle finger as he offers it to you, but once he sees you won’t take it, he flicks his wrist towards the desk beside you and lets the paper fall lazily over it. 

“I’ll see you around…" Isaac whispers like a menacing promise. "the paint suits you, by the way.” It’s low enough for only you to hear and the smile that goes along with his denigrating tone makes your face turn in disgust. 

Your gaze launches daggers at his back once he turns and takes the small boy by the hand, disappearing past the installation and your lungs only stop burning when the bell dings a final time. 

“What’s that asshole’s problem?” Richie mutters, hand over Ava’s ears and stare lost in the space left empty. 

The desk beside you has never felt more sturdy than the moment you let yourself fall back on it, the adrenaline has finally left  your system and turned your legs into jelly. It screeches lightly and makes Richie turn his head towards you, concern evident once he spots your colorless face. 

“Hey, hey kid, you okay?”

“Wha- yeah, yeah I’m fine. It’s Just um… it’s just been a really long day.”

“Yeah…” He plays along and takes a few weary steps towards you. “Probably doesn’t help that you’ve been smellin ‘ this shit all day either, huh?” He says, taking one of the closed jars with his empty hand and scanning the label.

“Yeah… that’s probably it.” You reply absentminded as your eyes focus past the glass, hoping to not catch sight of the man. 

“Mhm…” Richie repeats in the same tone. “Listen, I know cousin’s got your car and he’s still at the restaurant so if you pack your stuff now, I'll drop you off at home.”

You nod a few times, eyes still on the glass, then with another heavy sigh, you clear your throat and push yourself off the desk. “Yeah, that’d be great. Thank you, Richie.”

You move quickly behind your desk and pull out your already prepped bag and keys- careful to not let him see the wayward tear that the strange confrontation has left behind- before tucking your hair behind your ears and giving him a thin lipped smile. 

“Thank you.” You whisper towards him.

Richie shrugs his shoulders and the little girl that’s already falling asleep over them stirs lightly. 

“What’s family for?” He replies and for the first time since you’ve met him, both his voice and demeanor carry a strange serenity that makes you understand why his daughter is peacefully asleep by the time she reaches her car seat. 

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne , @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha , @yum-yahgurt , @pussy-f41ry , @kirakombat , @redsakura101 , @hobisunshine13 , @feyhunter78, @xeneth99 and that's it lmao

[voidscarredadjudicator]

A VERY lengthy ramble about Salmonids, Grizzco, and Big Run.

Aaaand this is the follow up to my previous long post where I talked about the new Drizzle Season maps with my stream of consciousness observations. It is long. I am sorry.

Now, I seem to be in the minority when I say that I absolutely love Big Run as an event. I sort of get this vibe that a lot of people aren't happy with it, and considering how infrequent it is compared to Splatfests, I can't say I blame them - especially considering how stacked against the odds the reward system is. Like, top 5% of the entire playerbase for a gold statue? The playerbase of one of the best selling Nintendo games of recent memory? That's a lot of people who're gonna be left in the dust simply by design. I honestly can't fathom why they made the PvE gamemode's event more competitive than the PvP one, but for someone like me? Between the two, I do enjoy Big Run more. I prefer mastering a difficult challenge with a rare accolade to prove it over the stomping/getting stomped that comes with Splatfests.

So yeah, there's gonna be a Big Run arc in Humanity's Endling. I am biased. I will admit to this. In fact, I'm even willing to spill the beans on the fact that Act II is the Big Run arc. You may think it odd that the Big Run arc is gonna be happening before the inevitable Alterna arc, but keep in mind that you are technically able to experience Big Run before the main story. In fact, the original trailer for Big Run sorta inadvertently hints at this since Mr. Grizz's radio is still the bear eating the fish, rather than the new one you get after clearing the main story. Now obviously, that's likely the case since Nintendo didn't wanna spoil that detail, but it's worth keeping in mind that the main story can just... never be done on a save file. Could be the final damn Splatfest of S3 before some asshole decides to actually do something about Cuttlefish lurking in the manhole, y'know?

Anyways, Um'ami Ruins as a Big Run map is... interesting. The first three maps we've had have all had some obvious way for the Salmonids to arrive - Wahoo World is on the coast, Inkblot was built on a river, and Undertow is literally the sewers, but Um'ami?

We are in the desert. There is no water.

...or is there?

Now, bear with me for a second, because I'm gonna go full detective here. Full theorist. A game theorist, if you wi- *gets shot*

Why would the Salmonids even want to attack these ruins to begin with? Do they have some kind of deep rooted cultural vendetta against the people who built this place? Is there some sort of ancient artifact interred within these grounds which holds unfathomable power? Are the Salmonids simply stupid?

No, no, and no comment. It's a lot simpler, actually.

They're not after the ruins. They're after the town next to the ruins.

That clearly isn't Splatsville. It's nowhere near big enough. It's just some tiny town in the middle of literally nowhere that just so happens to border these ruins, and is likely where the excavators and archeologists that are working here live. Additionally, such a town in the middle of nowhere would need some kind of way to get water, and there's this cool invention made by none other than Mario "Jumpman" Mario himself (source: trust me) called 'motherfucking pipes'. Those pipes probably run under/around the ruins - hell, those pipes getting built might even be how the ruins got discovered in the first place - and the Salmonids, being the chaos incarnates that they are, hitched a ride.

But if that's the case, why are we fighting them in the ruins? One of two reasons: they're trying to secure the ruins as some sort of outpost first and we're stopping them before they do that, or Grizzco is actively countering them by cutting off their advance at the ruins themselves. I'd imagine there's likely some sort of measures at play as well to cut off the flow of pipes for the exact situation of, "oh god there's hundreds of fish climbing out of my toilet", which would even explain how all that water gets there. The waterways are closed; wherever it wells up is where Grizzco moves in, as that's the only place the Salmonids can emerge.

That's probably why the alarms were going off in Undertow Spillway, beyond a literal 'perimeter breach' alarm. They likely closed off every waterway going to/from the place to contain the advance, it gets dangerously close to overflowing, alarms start ringing... this is right underneath the city. Shit was dire.

Big Run is a phenomenon that is as much a natural disaster as it is a literal act of war. We get to play as the soldiers, since that's the 'fun' part, but like with any hurricane, tornado, typhoon, forest fire, flood, or earthquake, there's so many moving parts to the response that a lot of people don't know about. First responders, evac, medical, meteorological, just to name a few.

A lot of people seem to be under the impression that the Salmonids are just hapless victims of Grizzco, and Big Run is just them striking back after dealing with Grizzco for so long, but honestly? I disagree. I mean, Grizzco ain't exactly squeaky clean, that's for damn sure, but the Salmonids aren't all that great either. They have their own culture and belief system for how the world works, and part of that culture is one that idolizes combat to the point where they'll attack in droves simply because the clouds dictate. If anything, they probably respect Grizzco and it's workers to some degree for being such formidable opponents time and time again.

Big Runs have been happening long enough for them to be mentioned in what's more or less the closest thing to an in-universe equivalent of the Bible, so their aggression is pretty heavily and historically documented. And clearly, they have no interest in joining the wider society outside of their clans in their murky waters (with Little Buddy being an extraordinary exception). Every sect of their society is trained for fighting one way or another; the smarter ones build and pilot weapons, the stronger ones are commanders, and they even have a place for the inexperienced where they serve as the snatchers. Their entire belief system is predicated on the idea that conflict makes one whole, that fighting and then dying is a process that lets them serve the cycle of nature. It's so deeply engrained into their way of life that they arm their children and send them to fight and die as well. They're a proud warrior race, through and through.

Does that justify Grizzco moving in to take their eggs? Because keep in mind, the Splatoon universe is also undergoing a constant energy crisis, and while we know Grizzco is doing shady stuff with the Golden Eggs... we're still collecting Power Eggs, too. In fact, that's literally the name of the job position - 'Freelance Power Egg Collector'.

On top of that, Grizzco isn't really keeping it secret. They're very open about what exactly is done. You go in, you fight Salmonids, you get their eggs, and you come back. It's a dirty job, but someone's gotta do it. It's legal, somehow.

Grizzco is likely providing legitimate aid for society through egg collection, which is probably how it's been able to grow to begin with - despite it being a front for Mr. Grizz's own schemes. Not only that, but society relies on Grizzco during Big Run. You can hate them all you want, but they're the ones who're making sure you still have a city to live in and power to run your damn internet.

But also, it's clearly not impossible to have some kind of positive relationship with the Salmonids, as the Octarians have managed to get some kind of trade deal going with them - although as of Splatoon 3, the Octarians seem to be less an actual army and more just the last few groupies Octavio still has after the Squid Sisters pulled some inspirational anime moment hijinks through the power of song twice. It just seems like the only thing the Salmonids are interested in are... more weapons. Weapons that they will then use during Big Run.

Imagine your neighbor breaking into your home and stabbing you with a knife you let him borrow because the clouds 'told him to'. It's... sorta easy to see why the rest of society hasn't really tried doing that. The Octarians probably didn't have much choice - or were at least comfortable with the trade since the Salmonids dwell on the surface, so they wouldn't be affected by their stampede.

Really though, it's a matter of two different shades of gray in constant opposition with each other. Lawful Evil versus Chaotic Neutral. Pick your poison.

If you haven't noticed, I've given this a lot of thought. Kaleb will have a ton to say in Act II about this whole situation. It truly is a uniquely fucked scenario, especially for someone who's world was taken away because of fighting like that... and that's without even getting into the actual things that'll happen during that act.

Before this post gets any longer, I do wanna put out a headcanon that'll be present during Act II, and that's the idea that there's only one Big Run that happens. I find it really weird and frankly absurd that this legendary, prophesized event of utter devastation at the hands of the Salmonids is... a neat, two day event that happens once every few months where they attack a single place and then leave. It's quite literally a biblical event, what's the deal?

So basically, the way I picture it is that Big Run is closer to a week, maybe longer, and basically everywhere is being attacked at once. Like, each Big Run we do ingame is just another theater for the fighting that's happening at the same time as the previous runs. Or, in other words, Wahoo World is under attack at the same time as Um'ami, and Inkblot is under attack at the same time as Undertow, and they're all under attack right now all at once. The fact that Mr. Grizz always acts like you've never heard of Big Run when it starts and the fact that you can hear the fighting in Inkopolis Square no matter the map honestly kinda lends to this idea.

It's just spaced out weirdly in the actual game's event lineup because having Big Run be a week long event that happens only once in the game's entire lifespan would be incredibly stupid from a commercial standpoint. Yes, I am huffing copium.

Anyways, I'm gonna stop myself here because holy shit this is a long post and it's so late that it's early. My sleep schedule is in shambles. I enjoy making these, though. I might do one regarding Alterna & Mr. Grizz himself when we get closer to the Alterna arc. Also I will still be playing Big Run tomorrow. Join me if you dare.

[macadoodlewrites]

Dangerous Love - Part Eighteen (Rafe Cameron x Routledge!Reader)

Summary: Avery Routledge is John B's cousin, and she has just moved to the OBX - just in time for a treasure hunt. But with John B keeping secrets in order to protect her, he pushes her into the arms of the Kook King. She becomes tangled with none other than Rafe Cameron, but will she realise how damaged he is before it is too late, or will he ruin her before she can get away?

Warnings: death, smut, dub-con, non-con, toxic behaviour, abuse, kidnapping

Ships: Rafe Cameron x OC, minor!JJ x OC

Main Masterlist

Dangerous Love Masterlist

Word Count: 4.3k

The next morning, I awoke with the bright summer sun in my eyes, shining through the window of my bedroom. Damn, I had forgotten to close my curtains last night. Back home - no, on the mainland, the summers were nothing like this. Nothing back on the mainland was like the OBX. And I was glad for it.

Taking in the sounds of the waves lapping at the end of the long 'front garden' of The Chateau and the sounds of birds singing in the trees outside of my window, I tried to let myself savour it before letting the memories of the day before flood in.

It couldn't last forever though. I rolled over in my double bed, reaching for my phone which was perched on my bedside table - on charge and it had been for the whole night. Tapping the screen, it lit up, telling me that it was late morning and revealing a message from JJ. But nothing from Rafe.

I trust you, Avi. And I trust that you will make the right choices. I'll make things right with the others and we will get the gold. Then we can all be free.

It was so serious for JJ, and so unexpected that I reread it three times before putting my phone down.

Was JJ okay? Had something else happened since he had dropped me off home last night? I prayed not. JJ deserved everything, certainly better than what the world had given him for a father. I had no doubt that Luke Maybank would make JJ's life even worse until the restitution was paid back. But JJ was strong. And we would have the gold soon. Enough money to take us far from anyone that would try to hurt us. His father and my mother.

It surprised me that there was no message from Rafe. Was he really that mad? I guess I couldn't blame him. We had spent the night together, and then I had ridden off with JJ, after jumping to conclusions about Rafe's behaviour with Barry and throwing it in his face.

Rafe, I'm sorry about yesterday. I really am. Please can I see you and we can talk?

I sent it before my nerves could talk me out of it. Within seconds, I could see that he had read it and before I knew it a message came through. It was an address, but one I did not recognise. Googling it, I found that it was another house on Figure Eight, not too far from Rafe's house. But why would he send it to me? Was he there and not home?

Not dwelling on it, I pulled myself out of bed and quickly showered and got myself ready for the day. John B would be out on his fishing trip with Ward by now, and hopefully he would be home soon. And tonight we would all go and retrieve the rest of the gold. I just needed to make up with Rafe and my day would be complete.

Within thirty minutes, I looked presentable enough in a yellow shirt with puffed sleeves, and a light blue denim skirt. Rafe had said his favourite colour was yellow, so I hoped this would work in my favour.

The living room was empty and quiet as I walked through it, so unlike most mornings I had woken up here since my arrival. I was accustomed to the sight of either John B or JJ sitting on the sofa, or out in the front yard chatting away or swinging on the hammocks. Soon though, things would be as they should be. We would all be a family and have no one to answer too.

Outside of The Chateau was a hot tub with multicoloured lights hanging from it, large enough to fit all of us Pogues in it. Forgotten plastic champagne flutes floated on the still water. alongside a blowup flamingo. When had this gotten here? Who had bought it? One person came to mind. JJ. But I had seen him in the late afternoon and when he had dropped me home, the hot tub certainly hadn't been there. How strange. I would have to ask him about it later.

The walk from The Chateau to Figure Eight had become a family one, although the last part of my journey was new. I walked up the address that Rafe had text me and gazed up at it. It was slightly smaller than the Cameron mansion, and far less imposing. It was an oversized beach house, three stories tall with azure-grey walls and a shining white roof. Was Rafe here? Did the Cameron's also own this house?

I walked the path to the front door and knocked, but there was no answer. I knocked again, and then twisted the door handle. It opened under my touch. Entering the house, it was not surprising to see the expensive furniture, the oversized kitchen and dining room. Stairs wound upwards, but that was not what interested me. Through the double glass doors on the other side of the room, I could see a long deck that lead towards the beach. And at the end of the deck, was Rafe.

Taking a breath, I walked towards him. His head snapped up quickly as I opened the door, but he did not smile at me. Instead he watched me as I approached him, the deck-pier going on forever. My footsteps were shaky, as were my hands but I clenched them into fists at my sides to calm them.

Finally, I was in front of him. And I was shocked. And reminded of JJ's words from yesterday.

"He beat up, Pope. He attacked us at the OBX movie night. He is friends with the local drug dealer."

He was sat leisurely on the sleek blue outdoor sofa, his arms spread along the wooden back. And in front of him, was a mess. A bong, still smoking, empty and full cans of beer, and most importantly, small, thin lines next to a rolled up dollar note.

"Rafe," I whispered. "What is this?"

His cornflower blue eyes stared up at me, a harsh ice in them, taking in my reaction. Despite the obvious malice in his stare, my stomach clenched at the sight of him. He was so attractive, more handsome than anyone I had ever met. "What does it look like?"

"Well it looks like the remnants of a party, but you're the only one here."

"Then it must be mine." His words were short and sharp, accusing me of something. "You wanted to talk?"

"I did," I conceded. "Don't you?"

"I don't think that there is much to say, Avery. We were having a lovely breakfast, and as usual, you thought the worst of me, and then ran off before I could explain to you what was really happening." He pulled one of his hands away from the back of the sofa and leant it on his knee. The cuts on his knuckles had scabbed over. "And then you left me for JJ. So, like I said. I do not think that there is much to say."

The wind was warm as it blew in from the sea; the salt and tang of the ocean filled my nose. "It wasn't like that Rafe."

He stood up, towering over me, only the wooden coffee table in between us. "Then tell me what it was like."

There was something off about him. His eyes were sharp, his movements fast. Was he high now? It wasn't even lunchtime.

"There is too much to explain, Rafe, and besides, it isn't my business to tell you. It's my friends'."

"Your friends have too many secrets. Even from you, I imagine."

Ignoring the jibe at my friends, and accepting that Rafe would never like them, I continued. "I can only say that I'm sorry that things turned out the way that they did. I mean it."

You're sorry?"

"I am."

"Sorry for what part exactly? Always choosing to think the worst about me? Choosing your friends over me time and time again? Leaving me alone yesterday-"

"You made the decision for me," I cut in.

He made slow steps around the coffee table towards me. I couldn't tell if he was drunk or high, or both. Or neither. He was right - I did need to stop always assuming the worst of him.

"Don't you dare say that. I could see where your mind was going - I know you, remember? And you were going to pick JJ. I only helped out. For you."

"I didn't pick JJ, not in the way that you're implying, at least. I swear."

"Why should I believe you. He's fucked you before, so why wouldn't he again? If he loves you like I do, then he wouldn't pass up the opportunity."

If he loves you like I do. Thank God he was still saying that he loved me. My heart swelled at the thought, and I met Rafe's eyes, trying to convey all of my feelings to him.

"We didn't sleep together."

"Well, isn't that a relief." The sarcasm in his voice stung. "Do you still love him."

"I never said that I did-"

"But you used to, that much is clear, Avery. You talk about him differently than you do the others. It's like an old wound that you can't help but pick at with him. You keep going back, and away from me-"

"No, Rafe, it's not like that!" I rushed forwards, taking his warm hands in mine. "I love you! I don't love JJ, not anymore. He was my past, something that is gone now. He cares for someone else."

"And if he didn't care for someone else?"

"Then I would still love you. I would still choose you."

Finally, the ice in his eyes softened fractionally. An iceberg becoming smaller, melting in the sun. "You would choose me?"

"Every time."

He leaned down, his lips capturing mine in a searing kiss. Had he never been chosen before? Never been picked first? His kiss told me so, told me that he was grateful for my words, for my choice.

He moved his lips skilfully against mine, his tongue running over my bottom lip until I granted him access. Our tongues met in a battle for dominance, but as Rafe's hand came to my hip, pushing me backwards until my back hit the deck-rail, he won. He took over the kiss entirely, squeezing my hip tightly in his grip as his other hand came up the back of my head, tangling his long fingers in my loose hair.

And then I noticed it. The taste of beer in his mouth. Surely he wasn't high as well. Maybe the drugs weren't his? Maybe they were someone else's, the person who lived here?

Either way, we had just made up and I was not going to ruin it. I cared for Rafe too much. Besides, I had my own secrets. He could have his. As long as they didn't ruin us.

It was only as his hand on my hip started to crawl to the hem of my skirt that I pulled away. My skin was hot and I could feel the flush on my cheeks as I looked up at him.

"Rafe, no - we're out in the open. Anyone can see us."

"Who cares?" he whispered. "Let them see."

His hand continued to move up leg, fingers now under my skirt. "Rafe, stop-"

"You said that you love me."

"I do!"

"Then who cares who sees? I certainly don't."

Was I overthinking things? I looked over to the beach and could see no one occupying the sandy shore. No one to see us. But still, it felt wrong.

But I didn't want to take a step backwards, now that Rafe and I were no longer arguing.

His hand continued up my skirt, his warm fingers tracing my skin softly. His eyes were intense, the blue in them almost gone around his blown-wide pupils. Lust or drugs? I wanted to know, but couldn't bring myself to ask.

I only nodded and let Rafe continue his movements. The hand in my hair tightened as his hand found home. He moved my thong aside, his fingers instantly sliding into me without any preamble. I gasped at the sudden intrusion with no warning, but before I could anything, he was moving his hand at a fast pace, curling his fingers inside of me. My hand fell to his shoulder to hold myself up as my knees went weak. His lips were on my neck, sliding down my skin to my shoulder. As he curled his fingers again perfectly, he bit into my shoulder, sharp teeth breaking the skin. Rafe continued to move his hand as he kissed at the fresh bite mark on my skin. My hips were rocking back and forth against him, trying to catch the feeling that was building in my core, chasing the pleasure that Rafe's touch was elliciting. As it finally built up to its peak, Rafe's thumb came up to play with my clit, just as his other hand detangled from my hair and cupped my breast. His fingers traced my nipple under my shirt, the buds hard and sensitive to his touch.

And then it hit me, washing over me like the shores that were ever so close to us. I leant my hand back, my hips stuttering and legs clamping around his hand as my orgasm took over everything. I was dimly aware of Rafe's lips leaving my shoulder, or that his hand was still rocking against me. I was on my tiptoes, eyes scrunched in pleasure, and as the wave finally subsided, I opened my eyes. Rafe was there right in front of me, his eyes taking in the sight of me climaxing from his fingers, and he was smirking.

"Rafe," I whispered.

"I think that even if anyone was watching you, Avery, they would only be entranced by how amazing you look when you cum."

My already flushed cheeks reddened further at his words, and I looked down, but the hand that had been on my breast came up to my chin and pulled my head up. He leaned in to kiss me again, and I reciprocated the gesture.

"I love you," he mumbled against my lips, and I smiled. I kissed him hungrily, ignoring the taste of alcohol and savouring the rest of him. He was all summer, his bright blue eyes, tanned skin and hair with blonder strips from the sun making him look like a fresh ray of sun to me. Maybe that was only because I loved him.

"Let's take this to the couch," he said and I let him lead me along, not knowing what he was expecting. All of his anger was gone, apparently, leaving behind only the love that I was used to - but there was something else. I couldn't put my finger on it. His movements were quick, faster than usual and more eager than I had expected, something different about them. I wanted to push past it, I really did.

But then Rafe ruined it. He lightly tapped my shoulders once I was stood in front of the couch, and I sat down, looking up at him. He sat next to me, but instead of kissing me or talking to me, he leaned towards the coffee table. Before I could say anything or try to intervene, he had picked up the dollar note and inhaled one of the small lines of white.

I gaped at him. Was he serious? He wiped his nose and then turned to me, clearly ignoring the incredulous look that I was giving him. He leaned over me, body covering mine as he kissed me again. It took me a couple of seconds for my mind to catch up, but as it did, I found my hands pushing at his shoulders.

"Rafe, stop it! Get off of me."

He did stop kissing me but did not move. Instead he reached down to my legs, pulling them over the couch so that was led completely flat on its surface and he hovered over me. I did not miss the way that his eyes roamed my face and down to my chest which was heaving with alarm.

"What's wrong?" His eyes were blank, a blank sky with nothing in it.

"What did you just do?"

He looked from me to the table and back again. "What? That? Who cares?"

"I care," I protested. "I am not going to sleep with you when you are high."

"Why not? It makes no difference."

"It does to me!" I exclaimed, my hands coming up once again to shove at his shoulders. But instead, he grabbed them, his long fingers wrapping themselves around my wrists and pushing them down on either side of my head.

"Why should it make any difference, Avery? It's still me, and I still love you. I've been doing it all morning. I was high when you just let me finger you for all the world to see. You came all the same.

At the vulgarity of his words, I felt tears fill my eyes. I tried to lift my wrists, to push at him but he was too strong. No surprise there. Rafe was slim but his shoulders were broad and his arms extremely muscular.

"Get off of me."

"No."

Everything within my chest sunk at his one word.

His mouth took on a cold smirk at my struggles, at the power he had over me. "You honestly expect me to believe that none of your Pogue friends have ever done drugs in front of you. That you haven't?"

"I haven't," I retaliated. "And none of them do cocaine. And especially not when they're trying to have sex with me!"

It was the wrong thing to say. Something darkened in his glare and he released one of my hands to grip my chin harshly. "When they are trying to have sex with you? I thought it was just JJ, and certainly not recently. Is it Pope as well? Or do you have something going on with Kiara? Have you slept with them all?" He grimaced. "As a matter of fact, when was the last time that you slept with JJ?"

I didn't want to lie to him. I hadn't slept with either Kie or Pope, but only last week I had slept with JJ. Keeping quiet, I watched as he seemed to acknowledge my lack of words. Would he question me further if I didn't answer?

He was drunk and high, and all I was feeling was fear. I had never seen such an anger on his handsome face, and I started struggling again, twisting my body to try and wriggle free from him.

I stopped as soon as he pressed his lower half against me, his prominent erection tight within his shorts.

"Go on, keep moving like that, Avery. You're not going anywhere and it's only making me want you more."

I swallowed hard. "Rafe, please let me go. I won't tell anyone."

"Tell anyone what? Avery, I am Rafe Cameron. Everyone knows I do drugs, and better yet, everyone knows who my father is. I am untouchable on this island. And besides, I haven't done anything. Everything that we have ever done has been mutual, and even if I was to fuck you right now, it would be consensual. You want me. If you didn't, I wouldn't have been able to finger you as easily as I did - my god, I had barely even touched you and you were soaked for me. Go on, tell me you don't want me and I will get off of you."

I stared up at him, trying to ignore the bruisingly tight grip on my chin as he clenched my bones in his grip. He lowered himself even further, brushing up against me and I clenched my legs. I couldn't say that I didn't want him. But it didn't mean that I had to give in to him.

"I don't want to sleep with you."

His eyes gleamed. "Liar."

"Please, Rafe, we only just made up. I don't want to sleep with you when you're high and I don't like how you're acting."

"Your opinion does mean something to me, but right now I am far too hard to care. The image of you in your bed only two nights ago has been keeping me going for the past twenty four hours, and sweetheart, I want another taste. You've given yourself to me, and now there's no going back for me."

"What are you talking about?"

He stared down at me as if I had just asked him something utterly ridiculous. "I love you, Avery. You are mine now, and if I want to fuck you right now on this sofa then I will. And you will enjoy it, I promise you."

"I won't."

"Shall we put your little challenge to the test? I do love to win after all-"

And he leaned down, his nose grazing my cheek, his lips then moving to my ear, but just as I thought he was going to say something, a phone cut through the tense air. It wasn't my ringtone, it was Rafe's.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, finally releasing my chin. It felt like blood could finally rush back to my jaw, and I stared up at him, confused. He still held one of my wrists down against the cushion but reached over to grab his phone and answered.

Rafe was silent as he listened to whoever was on the other end of the phone. Then he nodded.

"Yes, she's with me now."

I paled. Who was enquiring about me? "Rafe!" I yelled. "Let me-"

He released my wrist and placed his hand over my mouth, smothering my yells. My hands clawed at his wrist, trying to get him to release me, but he only stared down at me, amused.

"Sure, I'll tell her. Thanks."

He hung up the phone and let me go. I sat up and finally pulled myself away, scrambling to the other end of the sofa and away from him. Would he really have done all of those things that he had said, without my consent?

"Who was that?" I said hoarsely.

"My Dad," he said casually, turning to me so that his attention was entirely focused on me. "He and John B had arrived back from their boat trip, but there was an accident. Your cousin is hurt and my Dad said you should come over."

Momentarily I tried to push the events of the last half an hour away. "What happened? Is he okay?"

"He should be fine, but my Dad said that you should come to the house."

"I'll go."

"I'll take you."

I stood up, moving away from Rafe. "No, I'll get there myself."

He stood up, his breathing heavy as he adjusted himself. I tried to forget what he had nearly just done to me. John B was what mattered.

"Fine, Avery. I didn't want to worry you, but he is quite badly hurt and my Dad said that we need to hurry. So would you rather walk, or I can drive you over?"

He knew he had me, knew that I cared about John B more than anything and if he was hurt, I would do anything for him.

"Fine," I whispered, defeat in my voice. "Let's go. And please hurry."

Rafe walked over to me slowly, his every footstep putting fear into me. He knew what he was doing, I was sure of it. Slowly, he leaned down and kissed my cheek.

"We'll continue where we left off later," he whispered, and then his hand moved to the top of my arm before I could stop him. "And don't think I don't want an answer to my question. Because believe me, I do. And I'm sure I'm not going to like the answer."

"What question?"

"How recently you slept with JJ."

Perhaps this was going to be my only way away from him. If he felt betrayed enough, perhaps he would let me go and not do this to me again. I didn't want to lose Rafe, I really didn't, but he couldn't behave like this.

Even if he left me now, I could run over to the Cameron House without him and get to John B.

A smug, grim smile filled my face.

"I slept with JJ last week."

Everything was wiped from his face, every emotion both happy and sad. A muscle jumped in his cheek, his jaw was clenched and the grip on my arm tightened so that all the blood was cut off.

"You-"

"You wanted the truth. There it is," I spat. "Now let me go."

I didn't know what to expect. Would he yell at me, call me names, shove me away?

He did none of those things. He only pulled at my arm, turning to the glass doors.

"Let's go and see your cousin."

Somehow, his reaction was worse than anything I could have thought of.

Perhaps he was done with me now. This would only be a betrayal to him, wouldn't it?

He pulled me after him, not turning to look at me, not even as we reached his bike and he shoved his helmet over my head.

I was terrified. But if John B was hurt, I would have to put that fear aside for him.

PREVIOUS PART // NEXT PART

Tagged -

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[laresearchette]

Monday, April 01, 2024 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: VANDERPUMP VILLA (Disney + Star) THE SYNANON FIX (HBO Canada) 9:00pm

WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT?: 2024 iHeartRadio MUSIC AWARDS (FOX Feed) LOVERS AND LIARS (CW Feed) ALL AMERICAN (Premiering on April 08 on Showcase at 8:00pm)

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

AMAZON PRIME CANADA ALLAN QUATERMAIN & THE LOST CITY OF GOLD AT CLOSE RANGE BLAME IT ON RIO BLOODSPORT BREATHLESS BULLETPROOF MONK CASINO CLASS DARK BLUE DARK ANGEL DR. SEUSS’ THE CAT IN THE HAT EYE OF THE NEEDLE FLAWLESS FLESH+BLOOD HARLEY DAVIDSON AND THE MARLBORO MAN KOYAANISQATSI THE LAST WALTZ LOL: CHI RIDE E FUORI (Season 4) MOBY DICK NOT WITHOUT MY DAUGHTER THE PARTY ROLLING THUNDER TOP GEAR (Seasons 14-25) THE TRAIN VALLEY GIRL VAMPIRE’S KISS WARCRAFT WHITE NIGHT

CBC GEM DYLAN’S PLAYTIME ADVENTURES

CRAVE TV LITTLE JESUS THE SYNANON FIX (Season 1, Episode 1)

DISNEY + STAR VANDERPUMP VILLA (Three-Episode Premiere)

NETFLIX CANADA THE MAGIC PRANK SHOW WITH JUSTIN WILLMAN

CURLING (TSN/TSN5) 8:00am: LGT World Men's Curling Championship: Canada vs. Italy

NHL HOCKEY (SN) 7:00pm: Panthers vs. Leafs (SN Now) 9:00pm: Oilers vs. Blues (TSN3) 9:00pm: Kings vs. Jets

MLB BASEBALL (SN1) 8:00pm: Jays vs. Pirates (SN Now) 10:00pm: Giants vs. Dodgers

NBA BASKETBALL (SN Now) 8:00pm: Suns vs. Pelicans

MURDOCH MYSTERIES (CBC) 8:00pm: After a man dies in a drunken brawl at the Starbright Lounge, Murdoch's suspect is another detective.

WARDENS OF THE NORTH (Discovery Canada) 8:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Conservation officers crack down on boaters not complying with the law; a routine fishing patrol has officers tracking down over-the-limit anglers; a kayaker is reminded that lifejackets work best when worn, even when close to home.

SOCIAL MEDIA MURDERS (T&E) 8:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Alex Rodda, a 15-year-old teenager, is murdered by 18-year-old Matthew Mason in December 2019, six weeks after they first exchange messages via social media.

SECRETS IN THE ICE (Super Chanel Fuse) 8:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): A grim discovery in a Swedish lake reveals ancient practices; in the Canadian Arctic, the fossil of a previously unknown mammal is found; bizarre ice formations in the Antarctic Ocean; a discovery off the east coast of Canada.

BELGRAVIA: THE NEXT CHAPTER (CBC) 9:00pm (SEASON FINALE): As Frederick grieves the loss of Clara, Enright receives a letter that pushes Frederick to confront his past; Clara and Davison adapt to life in the North, as Clara grapples with happy memories of home.

OUTBACK OPAL HUNTERS (Discovery Canada) 9:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): The Bushmen bring in an explosives expert to blast through the toughest rock in Grawin; plus, a brand-new team brings cutting edge technology to the opal fields.

SPOOKED IRELAND (DTour) 9:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): The team ventures to Charleville Castle, where they face a multitude of spirits who seem to have turned against the castle's current occupants by trapping them in cupboards and keeping them up at night with screams and singing.

EXPEDITION X (Discovery Canada) 10:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): Phil and Jess explore the world's most haunted forest near the site of the Dracula legend and where Josh Gates had his most terrifying experience; during a night investigation, Jess finds herself being watched by someone or something sinister.

THE PLAYBOY MURDERS (Investigation Discovery) 10:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): In the late '90s, Playboy twins Sandy and Mandy Bentley's fame soars until an affair with a Vegas High Roller leads to a fall from fame, stolen jewels, a shadowy buyer and a brutal double murder in the Hollywood hills.

MASTERCHEF AUSTRALIA (CTV Life) 10:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): A group of 12 home cooks will compete with 12 former contestants.

MURDER AT MY DOOR WITH KYM MARSH (documentary) 10:00pm/11:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): The story of 17-year-old Thomas Griffiths, who killed his girlfriend and arranged the crime scene to look like a suicide after she broke up with him. In Episode Two, 19-year-old Mundill Mahil lures a young TV executive to his death in an act of revenge following an attempted rape six months earlier.

[arrow-dodger]

My dad's mom died on Saturday. I called her Nanny.

I can't put what I feel into words. I can barely sit down and think about it at all. But I can try to write it just to get it out of my head.

I haven't seen her in years. I've been estranged from that side of my family since I was maybe 22 or 23. To paraphrase, they're bad people. They were emotionally abusive, purposefully cruel, manipulative, selfish and volatile my entire childhood. I don't think either of my grandparents loved me, or even knew how to feel or show love in a way that I would recognize. I don't think they know me or anything about me, nor have they ever tried. The concept of "family" on my dad's side is just an endless loop of people possessing other people.

My mom always told me that since Nanny wasn't a loving person and Pawpaw (her husband) was a serial philanderer, my dad grew up in a household where not only did he have emotionally absent parents, but parents who fucking hated each other. And that's true. My entire life they had separate bedrooms and seemed to loathe one another entirely, but were just together because they had already been together that long, so they might as well ride it out. I know my dad is an adult and a father himself so he should have some kind of blame in his own actions. I just think I resent my grandparents a bit for growing him to be as emotionally absent as they are. My dad is still a little boy hiding under a bed in many ways.

As a person, I would say Nanny was best described as "unhappy." She barely smiled and always had something to fret about. She was always affronted by everything other people did, even if it had nothing to do with her. My mom has many stories of her throwing fits about things as an adult woman. She was critical and high-strung. At the same time, I know she was good natured in some ways. She gave a lot of gifts. She was always there to offer food or do laundry with a particularly challenging stain on it. She watched us as kids often enough and I know she watched her great-grandson (my cousin's kid) a lot too. I wasn't afraid of her as a child and I didn't dislike her, I mostly felt such a distance from her, especially compared to my mom's mom who I have always been very close to.

Every good memory I have with Nanny or that was set in her house ties directly back to some other weird or bad one in my head. I remember decorating Easter eggs with her, using dyes and stickers with crosses and other religious symbols on them, and her snapping at me for putting the stickers on my body because it was sacrilegious. I remember that day we ate Dairy Queen. I assume my sister was there, but we might have been so small that my brother wasn't even born yet. That would be over 20 years ago now. That story is funny because she was by far the most religious person in my family. She collected ceramic angels and claimed that once after she had some kind of surgery, Jesus himself visited her room and she kissed his feet.

I remember breaking one of her glass birds and cutting my hand on it. I remember climbing through her bedroom window because we locked ourselves out. I remember my sister and I playing with our Palm Beach Barbies in the fishing boat in the backyard. I remember mixing "potions" in her second bathroom. I remember her big black dog Magic, who seemed like he was the size of a horse to me because I was so small. I remember watching The Last Unicorn on VHS countless times in her bedroom, with an out-of-order treadmill in front of the bed and images of Christian angels decorating every surface. At her house we had the most random collection of toys, and books about dinosaurs. I always played with the toys in the sink of the big bathroom, the one with the poem about the color purple on the wall, and rummaged the drawers for her lipstick. Her feet were so small I could wear her little gold lamé slippers.

I remember her walking with us to Dollar General and buying us random little toys sometimes. Once I went there with her by myself when I was probably about nine and I remember her going on about how I was prettier than my sister and not to tell her. When I got older and my brother decided he didn't want to come visit my dad anymore because my dad was always drunk and terrifying, I remember Nanny and my aunts talking about how selfish that was of him. My brother, not my dad. And my brother was eleven years old.

I remember getting catalogues and catalogues of childrens' toys to pick from for Christmas. My grandparents and aunts always viewed buying us things as their way of expressing love, and even then it was barely that because it was always held over our heads later. I don't remember my grandparents ever asking me questions about myself or getting to know me. I don't remember them ever hugging me or being physically affectionate besides when we'd say goodbye. I don't remember ever feeling close to them in any way other than by proximity. In fact, most of my memories of going to their house involve them being in other rooms (or Pawpaw being in his shed in the back yard) ignoring us while we made our own fun, playing in the sink or watching a movie in the bedroom alone or playing Harry Potter in the front yard. In those memories everything is extremely quiet and empty.

When I'd go to her house as an adult she'd always give me random bits of food. Once she gave me a whole bunch of bananas. Then she'd spend the entire time guilt tripping me about how I didn't chat or visit often enough (I can't think of one time my grandparents have ever called me on the phone or invited me to their house) and talking about what things in her house I'd inherit when she died. It was always a pretty grim time.

When I got old enough and realized I was allowed to not be around my family anymore, I just... wasn't. There's no talking to them or reasoning with them, so I just fucked off. Nanny wasn't ever the reason for my estrangement honestly, it was my aunts (her daughters) who have both said and done way nastier shit, though she did join in things like enabling my dad to be an abusive drunk and actively sabotaging my parents' relationship. If I told every story about my aunts being awful throughout my life, I would be stuck here for days. Nanny might not have been as bad but she didn't separate herself from them in my mind, as she was always quieter than them but definitely on their side. We were never close. I never felt like she cared much about me or whether I was around or not. If she did she certainly never said anything about it to me, nor did anyone ever convey the message.

Not very long after I distanced myself, both of my dad's parents got pretty deep into dementia. My sister still visited every now and again but they didn't really know who she was. So even if I had still been around it wouldn't have made a difference, I think.

I've been distancing myself from my dad a lot lately already, so her death comes at an extremely weird time. I also can't attend her funeral tomorrow because there's a massive winter storm headed this way and I would risk being stranded. I wanted to go, too. I wavered on it because I'd have to see my goddamn aunts and their families and I know I'd be accosted and chastised and harangued by many different people. It would have been an emotionally exhausting experience for everyone, but it would have at least functioned as some kind of closure for me.

I can barely mourn my Nanny. There wasn't a loving relationship there to mourn. But I'm mourning some other things instead, like how my dad lost a parent, and my other family lost a loved one, and as weird and self-centered as it sounds, how I never had a relationship with my grandparents. The only relationship I've had with that side of the family the majority of my life has been manipulation, verbal abuse, them viewing my siblings and I as possessions and bargaining chips and using us as weapons, never being truly loved or truly known but existing as a concept and told to fit into a specific mold and to sit down and shut up and pretend along with the rest of them that we like each other. And that sucks shit.

Other people talk about these great relationships they have with their families. Other people have stories about grandparents who have always been there for them and supported them. Support is the last thing I ever got from any of those people. They have always actively resented me. They all wish I was someone else. I was the first niece and granddaughter born on that side and I know they all wanted a do-over. Luckily for them they have my sister instead, who barely remembers our childhood and lived far away for most of hers and also has some kind of infinite bandwidth for people who are cruel to her.

I wish to god I could say I was sad and hurt and missing something important from my life. Instead I never had it to begin with, and that hurts in a different way.

Editing this to say: I know it may come across harsh to anyone who doesn't know the full story of my childhood, my parents' divorce, my dad's alcoholism, etc. etc. and the roles my family played in all of those things. I will never be telling the full story so just know the nothing I've said here is harsh.

[cart00nie]

I just realized I never actually introduced myself 🙃

Hiya! I’m T00nie and I go by she/her. I’m a college student going into cosmetology so I am pretty busy and don’t post a lot but I do try to interact with others. I mostly do digital art but here or there I’ll post a painting or some random pencil drawing lol. I mostly draw my oc’s but I do like drawing other characters besides my oc’s. Like I said I don’t post much but I try to when I have the free time. I have a few interests, some questionable, but we don’t talk about them 👀 here’s a couple:

•fantasy/monsters

•anything marvel

•fnaf

•malevolent

•Some anime

And that’s all I can thing of right now because I have the memory of a gold fish 😌✨

Anyways, thanks for reading and if you didn’t I don’t blame you cause I don’t like reading either. 💛

[mirtiell]

Moots can you reblog this and tell me ur server you play at??

[ragingbookdragon]

She's A Bird! She's A Plane! She's...Spiderwoman?

Justice League x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.3K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: IDK where this came from but I was watching ITSV, so...there's that. Enjoy! -Thorne

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

“This is your fault,” Barry griped, hacking away at the glowing fauna with the makeshift machete—in reality it was just a really big stick that had a really sharp rock tied to the end. “I told you our trajectory was off and what did you do? You said, ‘I’m Hal Jordan, the greatest pilot in the world. Watch my big head crash us on an alien planet where our central battery gets displaced during the impromptu crash land and thrown miles from our position’.”

“Do you want some cheese with all that whine, Bar?” Hal asked, an unimpressed scowl on his face as he illuminated their footpath. “It’s not my fault the orbital windspeeds were faster than the sensors picked up on. Blame the tech, not me.”

“That sounds like you’re just trying to pass off the blame,” he shot back, swiping down at another vine that wriggled like a dying snake and spat out fluorescent blue liquid on the broken end. “Y’know? Like you do best?”

“Seriously, find a better thing to do than complain, Flash. We’ve got bigger fish to fry than blaming each other.”

“Each other? I didn’t do anything! This was all you!” Barry spun on Hal and glared at him.

They glowered at each other when a clicking sound echoed above them and they both jumped a foot in the air, spinning back-to-back as they looked around in every direction, up and down and side to side.

“What the hell was that?” Hal worried.

“I don’t know,” Barry replied, just as concerned. “It sounded like clacking.”

“That did not sound like a chicken.”

“Clacking, Hal, not clucking.”

“Same thing,” he retorted, lifting his arm in the air, shining a bright green light amongst the glowing red treetops. A bunch of branches, neon red leaves and purple flowers, a darting limb—a darting limb?

Hal shifted the light back, jolting Barry’s shoulder in the process. “What is it?”

“There’s something above us,” he whispered, watching with cautious eyes as something shifted on the main branch of the tree, the outline of a dark head coming out, just enough to catch the edge of their bright gold eye. “It’s watching us.”

The something shifted back into cover, the clacking sounding once more, then the treetop ruffled, dropping red and purple fauna on the two men as it jumped to another tree. Hal tried to follow it, but it was too fast for his eyes; the only thing it left behind though was a string of long white webbing, hanging down from the blue tree branch. And Hal being the idiot he was, decided to touch it to see if he could figure out what it was, and only managed to get it all over his hands.

He pouted, trying to pull apart his hands. “It’s sticky.”

Barry let out a long and heavy sigh, placing one hand at the small of his best friend’s back, the other holding the machete. “Come on, dumb-dumb. Let’s go find that thing again.”

“Isn’t that the opposite of how the survivors live? I know we’re white, but I didn’t think we were that white.” He was half tempted to see if he could gnaw the webbing with his teeth. “This shit isn’t coming off.”

“Here,” Barry said, vibrating his hand as fast as he could and to Hal’s surprise, the webbing cut, falling to the ground.

“Thanks!” he chirped, holding his arm out again to shine his ring. “What do you think that thing was?”

“Alien lifeform.”

“No shit, Sherlock. What gave it away? The alien world?”

“I’ve just about had it with you,” Barry growled, cutting through another rough patch of vines. As the path cleared, they stepped out of the heavily forested area to see one older tree in the center of the circle. It rested atop what looked like an ancient cave, the rocks crumbling around the front.

“I’m not going in there,” Hal immediately stated. “You couldn’t pay me all the money the US owes in debt to go in there. Fuck that.”

“You’re such a big baby,” Barry chuckled, walking up to the entrance; it was about the twelve feet high and ten feet wide, big enough for the two of them to walk in. “Come on. It went in here.”

“Barry, please! Why aren’t you more worried about this?” Hal begged. “You should be more worried!”

“Hal, if it wanted to hurt us, it would’ve done so already.”

“Or maybe it’s luring us to our deaths!” he countered, even though he was following Barry into the cave.

There was more webbing along the walls of the cave, swirling around patterns of purple and blue. The farther they walked the stickier it got, and at one point, they were struggling to lift their feet off the cave floor to take the next step.

“Christ, what is this stuff?” Hal asked and Barry bent down, poking at the webbing.

“It’s like spider webbing, but stickier and stronger.” He vibrated his hand to dislodge it from the strings, then did it around Hal’s feet. “You might wanna float for now. I’ll vibrate my feet to keep from sticking.”

“Good idea,” Hal agreed, lifting a few inches off the ground. “Do you think the lifeform is intelligent?”

“Intelligent us or just intelligent?”

“Intelligent us.”

“Anything’s possible. It seemed sentient so I believe it’s probably intelligent.”

“What do you define as intelligent, Barry?” Hal questioned and the forensic scientist hummed.

“If it’s capable of calculus it’s intelligent.”

“Really? If it can do math homework you think it’s worthy?”

“Calculus is a difficult skill. You need the ability to think and to calculate in order to solve and understand it. That requires sentience and intellige—oh shit!” Barry’s words tipped into a yelp as the ground gave way beneath him and he sunk down, shouting all the way.

Hal’s eyes shot wide, and he flew down the hole. “Barry!” he yelled. “Barry where are—oof!” he collided with more of the webbing, this time enough that the entire left side of his body was stuck to it.

“Hal! You okay!”

He looked over, seeing Barry stuck on his back. “I’m okay? You!”

Barry nodded. “I’ve been better. What is this?” they looked around the best they could. Spiral upon spiral of iridescent webbings surrounded them, stuck to the walls for support, them in the center.

Hal’s eyes narrowed and he glowered at Barry. “I fucking told you it was luring us here.”

“Shut u—”

The clacking sounded above them and with panic, they both turned their eyes to the ceiling, watching as the alien lowered down near them. It looked like a human, two arms and two legs, no extra limbs at all. Hell, it didn’t even look like an alien spider; it just looked like a normal human, gazing down at them with two normal eyes. That was until it opened all six of its golden eyes and stared down at them with it’s mouth open, two one-inch fangs protruding from where the canines were.

“Ohshitohshitohshit,” Hal whispered, about to shit himself in terror.

The alien reached for Barry, and he watched as his friend sunk back into the webbing from the outstretched hand. Except he couldn’t go any farther and turned his head to the side, quietly whimpering as the long black claws touched his cheek.

“Barry!” Hal hissed and blue eyes met his, then,

“Friends!” the alien shouted. “New friends for Rhiezheveir to have!”

Their expressions pinched in confusion as the being started to twirl in the air, one hand holding to the webbing they’d lowered down on, the other elegantly flowing in the air.

“You can understand us?” Barry wondered and they looked down.

“Yes!” leaning down, they got in his face, and he saw the rather feminine looking features. “Rhiezheveir saw the ship come in the sky and land! I waited until you left it to search! The ship’s memory functions in this language!” she seemed rather excited. “Rhiezheveir found the core you were looking for! I did not know how to get you here to return it!”

She climbed up the webbing, disappearing quickly only to reappear with the ship’s core under her free arm. “Here it is! Rhiezheveir brought it back!”

“Why do you keep saying that?” Hal inquired and she lowered down next to his face, hers right in front of his.

“Saying what?”

“Rhieza-something-reservoir?”

“Rhiezheveir?” she offered, and he nodded.

“Yeah, that.”

“Rhiezheveir is my name! I am named after the brightest star in the Kosialaran sky!”

“In the what sky?” Barry asked.

“Kosialaran!” she answered. “This planet’s name! My planet!”

“Are there more of you?” Hal questioned. “You’re the only intelligent life we’ve seen besides bloodthirsty beats trying to eat us.”

“Yes, I saw you fight with the Erqurcus. They are not nice lizards. They like to bite Rhiezheveir when she tries to feed them.”

“Why do you refer to yourself in the third person?” Barry piped up. “Sometimes you use first too.”

“In Aissaveed culture, we commonly refer to ourselves in the third, though I learned from watching, that humans use first. Rhiezheveir is learning to mix them.” She smiled and the clacking sounded again.

Hal tried to look at her. “What is that noise?”

Bending down to his face again, she flashed her fangs. “They click when I get excited!”

Barry cleared his throat. “Um, Rhiezheveir, are there more of your kind in the area?”

“Not here. On the other side of the planet there is. Rhiezheveir has travelled far to get away from her people’s hunters. They do not like me.”

“How come?”

“Rhiezheveir broke tradition. Refused to be royal consort. Fled and hid here.” She let the tips of her toes touch the delicate silk webbing and then crouched, the web bouncing lightly with the weight. “Rhiezheveir is not welcome amongst her people anymore. I am alone now.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Barry murmured, even empathetical of the alien. “You’re here all alone?”

“Yes! Though not anymore!” she patted both Hal and Barry’s thighs. “New friends!”

Hal wiggled. “I hate to break it to you, Reservoir, but—”

“Rhiezheveir,” she corrected, and he sighed.

“Rhiezheveir. But we have to get back to our own planet. We have responsibilities.”

Barry nodded. “We need to get back to our ship.” he tugged against the webbing. “Can you help us get out of this? We’re stuck.”

“Of course!” she chirped, starting to snip the webbing with her claws.

“Wait a second!” Hal exclaimed. “There’s nothing underneath meAHHHHH!” the last thread snapped, and Hal tumbled down the dark and dimly lit cavern.

“Rhiezheveir!” Barry yelled. “What are you doing!”

She held up a finger in a wait motion, then a wet plop sounded, followed by, “NEVERMIND! I’M OKAY! THIS WATER SMELLS FUNNY THOUGH!”

The Speedster sighed. “Oh, there’s water down there.”

She looked at Barry oddly. “Rhiezheveir would not try to kill her new friends. That is not nice.” Snipping the lines around him, she held on as he fell and she let out a squeal as they dropped, though as Barry hit the water, she merely held on to the web in her hand, just above the body.

Barry broke the water and spit out the remaining in his mouth. “Water tastes funny too.”

Hal rolled his eyes. “Rhiezheveir, how do we get out of here?”

She smiled. “Follow me!” she shot out her free hand and another string of webbing left her hand, attaching to the roof of the cavern; letting go with her other hand, she swung like a monkey on a vine, then repeated the process, alternating her hands. And boy she was fast. Barry and Hal had to freehand like they were in the Olympics to keep up, and even then, it wasn’t fast enough.

***

By the time they made it back to the ship, their hair and clothes had dried off. They noticed that she didn’t like to be on the ground and crawled along the tree limbs above them. Bioluminescent flower petals shook from the branches every time she moved, creating an aura of beautiful red and purple around them.

Barry took the battery from her and slot it back into place, watching as they ship powered back to life; he walked over to Hal who was sitting in the first seat. “Everything good?”

Hal nodded. “A few nicks here and there, but the engine and all other vital systems are good.” He looked up. “We should be good to go once the power levels reach operational.”

The Speedster smiled and turned to her. “Well, Rhiezheveir, this is goodbye.”

She merely blinked. “What do you mean goodbye? I am coming with you.”

“There’s not enough room,” Hal said, and she smiled, those fangs clacking as she raised her arms.

“I will make myself small!” her dark body illuminated in a bright gold, then the shape began to shrink and shift, eight long legs appearing out of the main shape that had evolved into two orb like shapes. When the glow dispersed, she raised her front legs and waved, then skittered up Barry’s leg and body to his head.

“I have a spider on my head.” He said dumbly. “I have an alien spider nuzzling my hair.” Barry looked at Hal. “There’s a spider in my hair.”

Hal shrugged. “So long as it stays on you, we’re good.” He peered at her. “Rhiezheveir, can you understand us in there?”

She waved her front legs as Barry climbed into the ship, sitting on his seat; she scurried down his head to his shoulder and sat there, perfectly balanced, her beady golden eyes occasionally blinking.

“That’s a big ass spider,” Hal noted.

“She reminds me of a Goliath birdeater.”

“A what now?”

“Goliath birdeater. It’s the biggest spider on earth.” He examined her. “But her legs are so long…like a huntsman spiders’. I wonder if she’s got the abilities of different species?”

Barry reached up, holding out his hand and she climbed on it, letting him lower her to his lap. “Can you sit there while we take off, Rhiezheveir? Once were out of atmosphere, you can wander around the cockpit.”

All she merely did was raise her front legs and wave them once more before settling on his thighs, curling her legs in contently; he smiled down at her, then the realization of what bringing her meant and he blurted out, “I have no idea how we’re going to explain this to the others.”

“What do you mean?” Hal questioned.

Barry looked at him. “The crash land will be easy—you’re an idiot.” He ignored Hal’s outcry of offense and gestured to her. “How do we explain we picked up a shapeshifting spider…lady?”

Hal shrugged. “Hostile environment navigated by a peaceful intelligent lifeform who managed to be a stowaway?”

“I like the first half up until ‘who’.” Barry met his gaze. “She was threatened by her own people and begged to help her flee?”

The pilot pursed his lips. “We’ll need to use her reasoning for leaving. The whole royal consort business.”

“Sounds good.” Barry glanced down at her. “Rhiezheveir, does that sound—oh…I think she’s asleep.”

Hal looked down to Barry’s lap and sure enough, the hand-sized spider wasn’t moving on his legs other than the occasional leg twitch. “Sure she didn’t die?”

“Hal!” Barry hissed. “Don’t be mean!” he gently scratched her the top of her abdomen with his pointer finger.

“You’ve pack-bonded with a spider,” Hal noted. “Nice job, buddy.”

“Oh, come on. Like you don’t find her friendly.”

“She’s a spider.”

“She’s an alien who turns into a spider.” He watched the planet get smaller and smaller as they exited the orbit and into the stars. “Bruce isn’t going to be happy that we brought an alien back.”

“I think the pressing matter is that we have no idea what she eats.”

“Bugs?”

“You said she was an alien who turns into a spider, Bar. What’s she going to eat when she’s human…like?”

“Meat?” Barry wiggled his fingers in Hal’s side. “Man-flesh.”

Hal choked on a laugh, batting at the hand against his ribs. “Stop that.” He steered the ship through a debrief field with ease. “We’d better figure out or she’ll eat somebody in the middle of a fight.”

“In a fight?” Barry asked.

Hal shot him a look. “We didn’t take this Lady Spider with us just to get her off her home-world. She’s gonna help out somewhere.” He shrugged. “Might as well stick her in the Justice League.”

Barry’s lips pulled satisfactory. “That’s…actually a good idea.” He smiled. “I can’t wait to show her to Bruce. You know he doesn’t like spiders?”

“He’s scared of spiders?”

“I didn’t say he was scared of them, Hal. He just doesn’t like them. I think creepy crawlies make his skin crawl.”

Hal shoved him in the arm. “Don’t call her creepy crawly. She’s a pretty spider.”

“What happened to making fun of her?” Barry smirked. “You pack-bonded with the pretty alien spider lady, didn’t you?”

“Shut up,” Hal griped, going still when she shifted and crawled up the dash of the ship and stared out the window; she turned, waving her front legs. “Yeah Rhiezheveir? What is it?”

She pointed to the stars, drawing her front legs in downward arcs as if to say, “Wow!”

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Barry murmured and she did it again; he looked curiously at her. “Hey Rhiezheveir, you can understand us, right?”

She waved.

“Okay. Since you can’t talk to us until we get back, how about this—front legs up is ‘yes’ and front legs down is ‘no’. Do you understand?”

She lifted her legs up and he grinned.

“Good. Now, do you like warm places?”

Her legs went up, then down.

“Sort of?”

Up.

“You like warm and cool weather?”

Up.

“We’re going back to our world. There’re many habitats there. Some really hot and really cold. Others are in the middle.” He explained, watching her almost nod. “We’ll be meeting the group Hal and I work with on another ship. You’ll have to stay there for the time being. Is that okay?”

She lifted her legs up.

Hal leaned over. “Rhiezheveir, are you a spider that sometimes turns into a lady?”

Her legs stayed down.

“So, you’re a lady that sometimes turns into a spider?”

Up.

“Nice. Can you fight?”

Up and waving wildly.

Barry looked at Hal then back to her. “You said you refused the position of royal consort. Were you chosen because you could fight?”

Up.

“So, you escaped because you didn’t want to be forced into that position?”

Still up.

Barry nodded solemnly. “Rest assured, Rhiezheveir, you won’t be forced into anything like that on Earth. You’ll be free and able to live openly and not in hiding.”

Her legs stilled in the air, then the curled and Hal muttered, “I think you overwhelmed her emotionally.”

The Speedster cupped the spider in his hands, letting her crawl back into his lap. “Sorry, Rhiezheveir. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She merely snuggled into his lap and stayed there.

“Rhiezheveir,” Hal started. “Your name is really complicated for humans to say. While I think it would be a good identity for a superhero life, I think you should find an easier name for people to use.”

She waved a single leg, signaling she was listening.

“How about (Y/N)?”

Barry smiled. “Ooo, I like (Y/N). That’s a pretty name.”

She raised her front legs and waved them excitedly.

“I think Rhiezheveir likes it too.” He scratched her torso. “Welcome to the Justice League (Y/N). You’re gonna fit in perfectly.”

(Y/N) waved her front legs, rearing up on her back.

“HOLY FUCK LOOK AT THE SIZE OF HER FANGS!” Hal shouted.

[stormgardenscurse]

“Shall we play a little game?”

About: Starting off day 1 of valentwst with an Azul drabble! It’s your summer holidays, where he may or may not have tricked you into needing his assistance. 

CW: Reader is implied to have an interesting unique-magic (not specified), and is quite frustrated with the merman in question.

“Azul Ashengrotto.” You said the name slowly. “What are you playing at?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Azul replied, eyes on the cauldron before him as his tentacles added and measured ingredients. Something off the shelf, another from the cupboard… What was the last one again?

Swimming closer, you swiped one of the bottles floating in the water before he could reach for it. His eyes flicked up to meet yours with a raised brow; you resisted the urge to topple his cauldron right there and then.

“You’re not expecting me to live the rest of my life with a tail, are you?” You demanded.

At the memory of your contract, Azul smiled. “As far as I recall, I’ve held up my end of the deal. You only have yourself– well, your friend, to blame. Your wish was to visit the Coral Sea for the weekend, was it not?”

“Yes. The weekend.” Your patience wore thin. “I admit it was an oversight on their part for trusting you,” His lips twitched amusedly, sharpening your gaze into a glare. “But what do you even hope to gain from this?”

“You don’t have to look at me so suspiciously.” Azul all but shrugged. He fished out a blank contract from the drawers, turning it around to confirm that it was indeed empty. “Forgive me for being so roundabout, but I thought you wouldn’t have come in-person if it were not for such a complication.”

When your friend said they could help you find a potion to turn your legs into a tail, you hadn’t thought they were foolish enough to go to Azul for it. After your first mishap with their dorm (a mishap on your part, but a convenient occurrence for them,) you’d done your best to avoid Octavinelle during your studies at the college. It wasn’t simply out of principle, either - Azul seemed to have taken an interest in your unique-magic, which was something you absolutely refused to use as a trading chip.

“...A contract to resolve an oversight?”

“An honest oversight, I assure you~”

If it wasn’t for the clear disadvantage you had, you might’ve tried to leave and find another solution. You sighed, crossing your arms. “Azul, I’d like a potion that returns my legs. A permanent one to reverse the effects of your last product.” Watching him scribble down the terms, you continued. “You aren’t after madol, are you?”

“Of course not. I only have a simple request.” He gave you a charming smile as he cast It’s a Deal, turning the dark ink into tantalizing gold. “I’m well-aware that you don’t plan to part with your unique-magic, thus I’ll simply settle for a demonstration of sorts.” He unraveled another roll of parchment, one that detailed a map of the Coral Sea. “Now... Shall we play a little game?”

[totiredtowrite]

Pirate!Karasano (platoniclly or just Daichi) x Mermaid!Reader(this might be a long one so bare with me)

Maybe when Daichi was little he and reader met and became best friends, Daichi would visit him everyday but one day reader stopped showing up. Fast forward years and Daichi is now a pirate (never forgetting about his best mer-mate) captain with his own crew, either when raiding another ship he finds reader locked up, or his crew went to a village/shopping district (or whatever they’re called) and saw reader locked up (either way reader was captured). Daichi makes a plan to steal reader back (the team probably just thinks he wants the mermaid man, half of them or like “who would do that to a living creature???”). When he successfully gets back reader reader just think that these humans captured him for their own entertainment but then realized it’s Daichi and he’s (Daichi) just crying ‘cause he finally got his best mer-friend back

This is probably too long/confusing so I won’t blame you for not doing it/changing it!

🎆-anon

Pirate Daichi - Merfolk Reader

『4』『4』『4』

"Daikkun!"

Daichi turned his head down towards the water. You had your arms resting on a rock, (f/c) tail slightly visible in the water behind you. "You look distracted," you laughed and swam closer to him. He bit his lip and kicked the water.

"Dad says I should start focusing on my studies." He sighed. "But I wanna keep coming out here."

You just shrugged. "Study out here then," you smiled, hauling yourself up on the rock to comfortably sit across from him. The wind ruffled the fins on your back, your scales shining.

He picked at a piece of wood on the dock, smiling softly. "You really want me out here?"

You nodded vigorously. "The other kids don't like me much. You're waay better than them! My favourite even!"

Daichi's smile widened. "You're my favourite too, (y/n)."

Sawamura jolted straight up. These random memories in the form of a dream were starting to feel more like nightmares. The day after that encounter, you didn't show up. Then the day after, then the day after, and eventually Daichi just stopped waiting.

He sighed, wiping the sweat off of his forehead and sitting up. The gentle rocking of his ship was making him feel more uneasy than safe in the moment.

He turned to look out of the small, circular window to his right. The sun was just starting to peek out of the horizon, so at least he didn't loose too much sleep. Or oversleep. He sat up straight and rubbed his face. Even now, at twenty three years of age, he was plagued with memories of the merboy he met when he was thirteen.

He decided to not let it faze him though, and went about his morning as usual. By the time the sky was blue, the whole crew was up and working.

"Hey captain!" He turned his head to see Nishinoya waving at him. "Why're we pulling into port?"

Hinata looked down from the crows nest, expecting an answer the same as Yuu.

"We need more supplies," Daichi called back, "We'll only be docking for a short while."

The bustling noise of the city wasn't something Karasuno was used to. The marketplace especially. Vendors everywhere, people pitching that their products were better than the other stalls selling the same. Daichi huffed. It's been about an hour, most of the supplies they needed were in sacks over their shoulders, though they were still missing some things. Daichi was going to turn in a different direction, until-

"Come one come all! Ever seen a half human, half fish freak? Now you have! Hell, he's even for sale!"

Daichi paused, slowly turning. His breath caught in his throat.

You. Older now, mature in a way that made Daichi forget almost everything. Everything, from the small scar on your tail to the colour of your skin, was the same.

He staggered forward. The man, stout, real crafty looking, spotted Daichi moving towards his booth. "You there! Are you interested in taking this one off my hands?"

"How much," Daichi said without hesitation. The crew had gathered with him.

"He isn't seriously going to buy a merman, right?" Yaichi's eyes were wide. Kiyoko just patted her on the shoulder.

"I'm sure he has a reason."

The man was pondering the price. You were in the corner of the tank, a glare on your face. Daichi looked familiar, but you still weren't sure of who he was. You knew they were pirates though, and that was never a good sign.

"For a pretty one like this, I'd have to charge you twenty gold!" The man winked.

Daichi wordlessly dropped a small pouch into his hand. "Hand him over," he still looked kind of dazed. The man shrugged, pushing the wheeled tank towards him.

"It's all yours. Pleasure doing business with you!"

The crew was sitting around the tank now, the ship long since gone away from land. "He actually did it," Yaichi squeaked.

"So?" You snapped at him, seated in a shallow hole in the center of the ship that was filled with water. "What the hell did you want from me? Huh?"

Daichi walked towards you, causing the team to shuffle back. He sat cross legged in front of the pool. "Is it you?" He asked softly. You tilted your head, confusion overtaking the anger. "...(Y/n)?"

You narrowed your eyes, taking in his appearance. Then it struck you. "Daikkun?"

Tears started to fall from him, staining the deck. You moved closer to him. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" You smiled.

He lurched forward and wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug. He didn't seem to care that his shirt was getting wet. "I missed you," he said, small hics leaving him in between words. You moved your semi-scaled arms up around him, clutching his back.

"I missed you too."

『4』『4』『4』

Note - So this was longer than I thought it was gonna be uh oops? I wasn't sure about the plot progression so sorry if it's a dumpster fire 😭

[thenovelartist]

The Drunken Vow - Tears of Themis

Number 3 in the "Drunk Wedding" series, here's Marius.

Wow. The hammer smashing repeatedly into his head was a real pain.

Marius didn’t want to so much as move despite knowing he had to. It took him a hot minute to realize the reason he felt like he’d been hit by a truck was because he was hungover to high heaven and back. He cursed himself. Normally, he was far better at pacing himself so he doesn’t get trashed like this, and yet, here he was. Must have made a drinking exception last night for his graduation party.

When the bright idea lingered in his head that maybe he should go grab some aspirin, he took hold of it. Though, it did take him another minute to get up.

And when he did, he realized he wasn’t the only person in bed. His heart stopped.

What did he dooooo?

He didn’t want to look. He so did not want to look at the woman he brought home with him. What in the hell was he thinking?

Had he been thinking?

Probably not.

But still, he wouldn’t do that! At least, he thought he would never stoop that low. Besides he was in love with Rosa. He wouldn’t chose any other girl beside her.

Right?

With a groan, he fell back on his pillow, shutting his eyes and cursing himself for the second time this morning. He was a total piece of trash. Either that, or he was drunk enough to be swayed by some girl who took advantage of his inebriated state to get with him. There were a lot of those types of girls; another reason he tried to limit his drinks.

He rubbed his eyes, only to feel something metallic slide across his face. He barely registered it, but it was enough to make him look at his hands. When he caught sight of a ring on his left hand, he narrowed his eyes down at the unfamiliar band. He didn’t recall wearing any last night. So why…

Oh.

Oh…

Um… does the wedding ring go on the left hand? It was the left, right? Or was it the right?

He couldn’t think straight.

Steeling himself, he decided that he not only had to see just who was beside him in bed, but whether she was wearing a ring or not. Because if she was…

He didn’t want to think about it.

He turned his head, looking at the girl. Her back was to him; her nearly bare back, he realized. The covers had sunk down her shoulders to reveal the fact he could only see her in her underwear. Which started up a whole new round of blushing for Marius. How far did they go last night? Because for the life of him, he honestly could not remember.

After taking a breath, he forced himself up on his elbow so as to get a better look at the petite brunette beside him. As he pulled the sheet back up over her shoulders to preserve her modesty, he took a look at her face—

And dropped the sheet.

That was his beloved Rosa…

Oh, shhhh—

Frozen in place, his mind had come to a screeching halt. Rosa was in bed with him, they were both nearly naked, and yes, they both had rings. Plain gold bands, but there was no denying that they weren’t matching wedding rings.

Meaning they got married last night?

How could that have even happened? While Marius may have called it a graduation party, it was hardly anything of the sort: a couple of his college friends, their girlfriends, and Rosa, who he’d begged to come with him. They were all being responsible, right?

Right?

For the life of him he could not remember.

With a sigh, he rolled back onto his back and stared blankly up at the ceiling. Lifting up his hand, he stared at the ring, and a wave of disappointment hit him like a truck. He’d wanted this. He’d really wanted this, being married to Rosa. But not like this. He had been still trying to convince her to go out with him in the first place. Whether or not last night could be classified as their “first date” when it was really just a “fake date to dissuade any ribbing from his not-single friends” was still up for debate. He had been so close to asking her out for real, but just as he always did, he somehow chickened out and put up that too-flirty persona before cursing himself for it.

He let his hand drop, his arm now covering his face as he let loose a tired groan. Geez, he was an idiot.

“Marius?”

The sweet voice rang from beside him had him tensing up again. He lifted his arm from his head, squinting at the sudden reintroduction of light to his eyes as he looked over at Rosa who was now looking over at him with wide eyes.

He wanted to flirt, to do something, anything, to loosen the intense tension between them. But this was the one time he really couldn’t string anything together. He blamed it on the hangover. “Er… hi?”

Was she blushing? He was pretty sure she was blushing as she clutched the sheets against her chest and turned over to face him. “H-hey.”

Wow, this was so awkward. “Umm…” he started stupidly. “Uh… I think… did we get married last night?”

Rosa’s eyes could rival saucers with how wide they got. “What?”

This time, Marius forced a smile while he raised his left hand and pointed to the ring on it. “You’re in one, too.”

Her wide eyes shot down to her left hand. She blinked once. Twice.

“Holy cats, I’m Mrs. Von Hagen!”

…

Fifteen minutes later, they had gotten dressed and were now in the kitchen, staring at the marriage certificate Marius had found crumpled in the back of his discarded pants pocket. The smell of coffee that Rosa had started permeated the kitchen, and frankly, Marius was dying for a cup. Between the hangover and the headache from his drunk marriage, he really needed the caffeine. And maybe an aspirin.

Beside him, also staring at the offending document, Rosa was standing in clothes she’d stolen from his closet and somehow looked better in than he ever could. Marius, on the other hand, had barely enough wits about him to throw on a pair of comfortable pants and plain tee shirt.

“This… it’s legal, isn’t it?” Marius asked despite all ready knowing the answer.

She nodded. “Yeah. It means we’re legally married.”

Guilt wracked him even more. This wasn’t how he wanted to go about things. At the very least, he actually wanted to remember getting married. Best he could recall was his graduation party had gotten very out of hand and he’d allowed himself far too many drinks. Rosa then recalled leaving with him in a taxi, and she was pretty sure she remembered kissing him—which had sent Marius into a blushing panic because why couldn’t he remember THAT sweet memory?—but that was the extent of it. What had happened after that was something neither Rosa nor Marius could recall.

“I’m shocked at you.”

Marius glanced over to the girl giving him a confused look. “What?”

“You haven’t cracked one inappropriate joke yet.”

Though stunned for a second, he let out a self-depreciating chuckle before shooting her a forced smile. “Sorry, Miss Attorney. Or should I say Mrs. Attorney. Guess the shock of being married to you has really gotten to my head.”

“There we go,” she said with a wink.

She was going to kill him, but he would at least go down smiling albeit hopelessly embarrassed. “I’m more concerned for what we’re going to do about… this.” He pushed the paper over to her.

She giggled as she straightened the paper out in front of her. “I’m surprised you didn’t even suggest ‘hey, let’s just stay married’.”

He huffed, running a hand through is messy hair. “Like you’d go for that.”

“I totally would.”

He froze. Wait… what?

Looking over at Rosa, who was smiling at him with a feisty twinkle in her eye that he loved more than anything, Marius’ heart began to beat wildly. “You serious?”

“What do you think?”

He thought that if she was serious, he would die of happiness. He’d been trying to figure out how to best ask her out, seeing as all his previous attempts had been thwarted. There may or may not have been a painting he’d been working on as a gift to present to her that may or may not have just been an excuse to avoid figuring out just how to sincerely ask her out. Because he really didn’t want to mess it up.

But now… Now it felt like all that work flew straight out the window because…

“Earth to Marius.”

He blinked a couple times. “Huh?”

“I asked you a question.”

He gaped like a fish as his mind scrambled back to what she’d asked. “Do… you mean it?”

She grinned. “Geez, normally you’re the one who’s all cocky, but look at you now. Apparently, I just have to suggest I might want to stay married to—whaaa!!”

He didn’t let her finish. He swooped her up and set her back on the kitchen counter, trapping her in with his arms. “No, really. Do you mean it?”

“Do I mean what?” she asked, clearly a little dazed at their position.

But he didn’t really care, for once. Instead, he was inwardly freaking out over the possibility that she actually did care for him as much as he did her. “That you’d want to stay married?”

She blinked up at him a couple times before a smile crossed her face. “I do.”

That was all he needed to hear. In a second, he wrapped her up in a hug, garnering a squeak from her as he pushed her back and pinned her fully against the kitchen counter. “You really mean it?” he asked again, desperate to make sure. Because if she really did, he was never going to let her go.

His racing heart somehow settled when she wrapped her arms over his shoulders. “Yeah,” she said, voice sweeter than any dessert he’d ever eaten in his life. “I do. I mean, I didn’t think it would go like this, but—”

“Doesn’t matter,” he cut in, squeezing her tighter. “That’s all I needed to know.”

She giggled, saying nothing and just holding him tighter.

“Wait!” he realized, his foggy mind making it extremely difficult to string his thoughts together. “This means I can kiss you now!”

She blinked up at him before bursting into laughter. “Yes, it does, Mr. Von Ha—mphfff!”

He didn’t give her a chance to finish. He wanted to kiss her, and seeing as she was his wife—his wife!—now, he could do that.

This was really exciting. So exciting that not even the beep of the coffee machine announcing the coffee was finished could pull him away. He had a better drug now than caffeine, anyway.

She pulled away first, and he pouted at the loss.

“Much as I’d love to continue,” she said. “Can it be somewhere more comfortable than the granite countertop?”

Oh… “Sorry,” he said, a bit of guilt slipping in as he picked her up and set her back down on the floor. Or, tried to, anyway. She seemed more than happy to wrap her legs around his waist and cling to him for dear life.

“This is okay,” she murmured into his shoulder.

Yes, he thought, happily tightening his hold on her as he made his way to the couch. Yes, it was.

…

By noon, Marius was freaking out again. For totally valid reasons, he believed, so he really hoped Rosa would stop laughing at him.

“I’m serious!” he cried, pouting. “Do you want a real wedding or not?”

“Marius, calm down, will you? You just spent the last ten minutes obsessing over getting me a new ring—”

“Because you deserve it! I don’t even remember buying you that one, and I didn’t even get you an engagement ring, so can’t I do that?”

“I’ll let you, but not today,” she said, grabbing his phone from him.

“Hey!”

“Mr. Von Hagan,” she said, shooting him a stern look. “As your wife, it is my job to—”

“Wait! You’re my wife now!”

She leveled him with a tired look.

“Do you want to take my last name! Because then we have to get the paperwork for that. And we’ll also have to turn in the certificate, right? And wait a minute! You’ll have to move in! We’ll have to get movers and pack all your stuff and—”

“Marius!”

She slammed her hands down on the armrests of the chair he was sitting in, glaring at him with a look he knew full well meant “stop it.” “Calm down,” she said. “One step at a time, right? You don’t have to fix everything now, okay?”

He wasn’t convinced.

She sighed, hanging her head in exhaustion. “Ugh, I liked it better when you were annoyingly flirty,” she grumbled. When she lifted her head, her stern expression had faded into something softer. “Can’t we just enjoy today and figure things out as we go?”

He supposed they could, but he also didn’t want things to take forever. If she was going to be his wife, he wanted her here with him. Furthermore, he wanted everyone to know she was his…

Wait.

He shot into a panic for the umpteenth time that morning. “The media! I’ll have to call Vincent right now and tell him to pressure the news to tamp this down!”

“Unless they caught wind of it already,” Rosa grumbled.

But clearly she hadn’t even been aware of what came out of her own mouth because it took both of them approximately ten seconds to realize just what had been said.

And how likely it was.

With a new weight on his shoulders, Marius sank back into his chair with a groan. His first day of being married, and he couldn’t even enjoy it.

[cloudy-leonhart]

You Took My World Away.

Author Note: Am I starting off with an angst fic about Erwin? Yes. 

Summary: Erwin didn’t really focus on love, not until he met Reader. Although, nothing good really lasts for him, so losing his lover wasn’t that suprising, but his potential baby? it hurts. Really, really, bad.

Pairings: Erwin x Reader

Type: Feminine Reader

Theme: Angst

TW: Death, Swearing, Injuries, Miscarriage.

[gif belongs to the rightful owner]

He knew it’d happen eventually.

Your presence wasn’t there at HQ anymore, he knew that he’d never get to hold your hand one day, he wouldn’t hear and see you greet him a good morning by the kitchen when he walks by, he would never be able to catch you in his arms ever again when your ODM gear breaks down while you swing around during your off days.

He just never knew how soon it was, he realized how much he took you for granted, when they brought what was left of your body to him, he realized how stupid he was to not have been there by your side. How stupid could he have been, you must’ve been so lonely while you passed.

Nobody spoke when Erwin softly cried as he held your body, nobody tried to talk to him to let go of your corpse, not even Hanji or Levi. His friends surrounded him and you, he held you close to his chest as his friends tried to make him feel better, “Erwin? You should let go, alright?” Hanji gently clutched your limp arm as Erwin had quieted down. “No, I-” Erwin strained voice tried to speak.

“Erwin. Let her go.” Levi’s voice cut through, Erwin looked at him with pain and disbelief in his eyes, “You- Why aren’t any of you grieving?-” Mike’s hand placed itself on his shoulder. “We are, Erwin, but you have to let her go.” Erwin’s grip around your body had tightened. Levi held his wrist, as Hanji slowly pulled you out of his grip. Erwin tried to pull you back in his arms, Levi and Mike pulled him back, restricting him from taking your corpse away from the soldiers who were responsible of handling the corpses of other soldiers.

“You don’t understand, I need to-” Erwin tried to explain himself, as he looked at Mike and Levi frantically, as if to tell them to let him go. The two squad leaders struggled to hold him back. “Erwin, snap out of it! You knew this would happen!” Levi’s harsh voice tried to get through to Erwin, but his cerulean eyes were focused on his lover’s dead body as it slowly faded out of his view.

“You can’t take her away from me!” Erwin’s pained cries tried to convince Hanji to turn back, they could feel their tears run down their cheek, they could feel their grip on your body tighten slightly, as if they too, didn’t want to hand you over, with a heavy sigh, you were placed on the rickety wood of the carriage that carried also what remains of soldiers who fought bravely to their deaths.

———

“Oi, Erwin.” Levi leaned by the door frame, watching as the blonde sat in his chair, holding what seems to be a piece of jewelry, by the way the sun rays shone through the window, blanketing his restless figure and the item with different shades of the sun’s gold, the piece of jewelry produced a glare that seemed bright white to those who chose to stare at it head on.

“Levi?” Erwin looked up from his seemingly long gaze at your necklace, looking up to meet Levi’s industrial blue eyes, who seemed to glare at him from the door frame. “What- what are you doing here?” Erwin’s voice sounded rough and dry, as if he was dehydrated or had a sick throat.

“You haven’t left your quarters, not even for meals, besides, Hanji needs a break from being in charge in your place.” Levi looked away from Erwin’s full blue eyes, it has been fairly obvious that Erwin still hasn’t gotten over your demise.

“Oh yeah, uhm, I’ll be there.” Erwin looked over at Levi who seemed to be fishing something from his pockets. “You don’t have to start working soon, I’m just, here to deliver something honestly.” Erwin’s figure perked up as Levi’s footsteps came closer, placing two letters, one was a blood-stained letter, the second, a letter with the doctor’s wax seal was on it.

Of course, the doctor’s letter came first, probably news about you, his beloved, late wife. He grabbed his letter opener, prying gently at the black wax seal that kept it closed until it was delivered to him.

He slowly removed the parchment out of the envelope, placing it on the side as his eyes scanned the words on the parchment. His eyes scanned it over and over again before a heavy and broken sigh came out of his lips. Levi looked over to Erwin who seemed to be on the verge of crying once again.

Levi knew better than to poke through Erwin’s business so he left quietly, closing the door to give his commander some privacy.

Erwin’s hold on the letter tightened as it wrinkled the parchment. It read,

———

Trost District, Jan. 16th 851

Commander Erwin Smith.

Survey Corps.

Commander Smith, I am writing to you about your late wife, Mrs. Smith. I am saddened to share with you that your wife had carried while in battle, she was 4 weeks in her pregnancy, I am terribly sorry to be the one who had to inform you of your late child, I bring my condolences and hope that soon enough, you’ll be able to come from Trost to Wall Sina to collect your late wife’s corpse and give her a final resting place.

My Condolences

Dr. Edward Harley

———

Erwin felt himself freeze, he tried to take in deep breaths, doing anything to prevent him from spilling his tears, he knew if even one spilled from out his eyes, he’d never stop crying again.

The overwhelming guilt of not being able to be there by your side in the battlefield, to not be present during your passing, you must’ve cried for him, he shook his head, trying to rid himself of his thoughts of you and looked up to the dirty ceiling of his quarters as he tried to blink his tears away.

He continued on, he felt his hands weaken as he reached for the blood stained letter, he knew it was from you, the rich royal blue wax seal, a sign of extreme passion for the one who was to receive the letter. His letter opener pried at the wax seal, opening with a bit more force from the knife.

He pulled out the parchment the envelope dropping as soon as he let it go. He read this slowly and carefully, different from the doctor’s letter. His eyes ran over your written words carefully, making sure not to miss not even one letter on the parchment. He didn’t even notice his tears staining the parchment, the ink slowly spreading into the parchment, not being water-proof.

The letter was carelessly thrown onto his desk as he cried his heart out, the letter read,

———

Dearest, Erwin,

My beloved husband, I am currently writing this letter on the day of our wedding, I will carry this letter everyday with me, for in fear of my demise being uncertain whether it’d be today or years later.

It pains me, the thought of leaving such a remarkably amazing husband behind, I knew from the day we both met each other that our lives will be short, which is why we both married as soon as we were sure that we truly wanted to spend every second of our lives being in each other’s arms. I wanted to start a family with you, Erwin. I knew it will be hard to be able to start a family but I want to someday, I hope that both of us live long enough to atleast have a child together, I wish to wake up in your arms everyday, I wish to watch you and our child play around as they laughed cheerfully from enjoying their childhood.

I am sorry that it came to the time you’re reading this now, rather than a time where we lived happily, I was selfish enough to wish that you never had to read this and I was able to throw this letter away. I want you to know that my death will not keep us apart, this world was cruel enough to take me away from you.

I am strong enough to tell you that even if in this time I’m taken away, I will still find you in another life, I will wait a hundred years to be with you again, my beloved husband and hopefully, the future father of my children.

I promise that I will perish with you as my last thought and our wedding as my last memory, may we meet again.

Yours Truly, Y/N Smith.

———

He finally let his cries out, it wasn’t silent nor was it pretty, it was loud and painful, his eyes stung from the salty tears that left it, the painful and broken cries from his mouth went ignored by Erwin, the letter now laid on his desk as he had his head in his arms, his shoulders shook with every cry, his lungs begged to breath big breaths rather than staggered and short ones.

His hands clenched around his hair, it felt easy to pull out his hair, he could feel the cold ring on his finger, which used radiate so much warmth, even if it was the coldest night or the winter days. It was like the ring was powered by your presence. It felt warm rather than cold metal whenever you were with him. Now it feels cold forever, colder than any blizzard or colder than ice on his skin.

He cried out his guilt and his anger, he cried out the guilt of not being able to grant you the one wish you wanted, a family.

He felt horrible knowing that he could never hold you or his child ever again. He should’ve kept you here, he should’ve never let you went on that expedition. He should’ve been there. He wanted to turn back time, even just a few seconds from your death he could’ve at least done something, just something.

Erwin cried for what seemed like endlessly, hours it felt, on the other side of his closed door, was Levi and Hanji, who was stationed around his door, Hanji sat down on the ground, the tray of food originally brought warm enough so Erwin could atleast enjoy something while mourning, now laid beside them cold and tough.

They listened as Erwin let out staggered breaths and pained cries, they listened as their friend was miserable. Levi glared at the closed door of their friend’s quarters, as if it was to blame for the pain Erwin felt.

They sat and listened to Erwin’s cries over and over again, waiting for the right time to come in and comfort their blonde-headed friend.

“Levi..I can’t stand to listen to him anymore, I’m going in.” Hanji pulled themselves up, dusting their uniform before grabbing the door knob, a pale hand covered Hanji’s, they looked over to Levi’s face, emotionless eyes bore straight in Hanji’s pitiful ones.

“Let him cry and mourn, he won’t say anything if we go in there, you know he keeps to himself.” Levi suggested, Pulls back as Hanji let out a small sigh, stepping back from the door.

“I wish I could help him.” Hanji mumbled, sitting back down beside the closed door, trying their best to drown out Erwin’s muffled cries.

“Everyone loses something everyday, it just so happens to be the most important thing, Erwin lost these past few days.” Levi looked over to Hanji before glancing at Erwin’s door and walking away, leaving with slight sympathy in his heart.

Hanji soon walked away with the cold tray in hand, unable to take the overwhelming aura of sadness and guilt radiating off Erwin’s quarters, Hanji walked away with sadness built up inside themselves and a determination to lead while Erwin grieves.

Hanji looked back one more time, seeing Levi retreating back to his office before mumbling something as they walked back to the mess hall, deep in thought.

“Captain Hanji?” Moblit’s voice broke through her train of thought, “Is something wrong?” The blonde spoke worriedly, Hanji looked up at Moblit before speaking softly.

“As much as I think what Levi said is right, I don’t think Erwin just lost something, I think he lost his whole world.”

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Sweet Honey and Iced Tea (Part 1): Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

synopsis: prequel to Lemonade. Your first brushes with the Fushiguro clan head aren't so beautiful or elegant. But they do leave some sort of impression.

wc: 2.1k (this got so long, I'll have to make part 2 tomorrow)

tw: drinking, drug use, violence

masterlist

"Get up," you mumble, looking at the little boy whining and clutching his scraped knee. "I said: Get. Up."

"Why did you push me?" he cries out, tears in his emerald eyes. "I didn't even do nothin'!"

"You're a baby, Fushiguro," you answer, placing your chin in the palm of your hand. "You need to grow up."

"You need to stop being a bully," he gripes, and you stand from the sidewalk, rolling your eyes.

"We don't get brownie points for being nice to each other," you retort, kicking your leg out at him but missing. "One day, you'll be the Fushiguro clan head, and I'll be the L/N clan head. We won't be friends." With this, you walk away, stuffing your hands into your overall pockets and mumbling something about eight-year-olds who don't know what's good for them.

_____________________________________________________________

Age 17 (9 Years Later)

"Y/n, a letter from your secret admirer." Your best friend, Gojo Satoru, hands you a folded-up piece of notebook paper, wiggling his white brows. You swiftly toss it at the bottom of your locker, sighing.

"If my boyfriend sees another letter, he's going to break up with me," you mutter. For three weeks, you'd been receiving letters from this "secret admirer" who - at first - claimed to be the better choice of partner, instead of the son of Principal Yaga. But as you slam the black locker closed, you know that these letters won't stop. So, you had to find the source and beat the shit out of them after school. It's the only way you're going to be able to salvage what meager romance you have with one of the five clan's sons.

You and Gojo walk down the hallways in silence, your hands full of your books, and you think of the prime suspects on the list: Nanami Kento, Yu Haibara, and Geto Suguru. But all three men are a class ahead of you, and you don't think any of them would dare to romance the eldest child of a prominent clan leader and not think they would be rebuffed. Especially since you're already preoccupied with--

A shove on your shoulder brings you back to the present, and you look up to see Toji Fushiguro and his friends passing by, some of them eyeing you with disdain. Your rival barely glances at you, but the person who bumped your shoulder - a girl - sneers at you.

"Watch where the fuck you're going, y/n." You stare at Fushiguro's flavor of the month, mouth curling up into a scowl.

"Yo, what the hell," Fushiguro snaps at the girl, pulling her around to face him. "Fuck you think you're doin', talking to L/n like that? Apologize." You look at the future head, and he nods at you, emerald eyes stern.

"Sorry," the girl mutters.

"No worries. I don't expect any less from one of Fushiguro's playthings," you retort, turning on your heel and walking off to class.

The rest of the day passes by in a blur, and you tap your pencil on the backside of your hand, watching the clock tick tick tick until the second-hand reaches the hour and the bells chime. You gather your things quickly, rushing over to your locker and shoving them in before grabbing your purse and beating it to the back of the school. Satoru stands off to the side of the brick building, glasses placed over his sensitive eyes, and Suguru hangs out next to him, smoking a joint.

"We can't smoke on school property," you remind him, but the senior waves you off, rolling his eyes. "Well, at least offer me a hit," you finish, and Suguru hands it to you before offering you a light.

"Satisfied, princess?" he jokes, and you inhale deeply, eyes scanning the blacktop before landing on a group of boys standing around in a huddle.

"What the hell are they doing?" you choke out, coughing as walking closer.

"Uh-uh," Geto stretches out his hand, stopping you. "It's the final step to initiation."

"For who?" No one answers you. As your vision gets a little clearer, you can see the boys fighting - no, jumping - a lone figure in the middle. A bloody face with emerald eyes looks in your direction, and you inhale sharply.

Fucking Fushiguro.

"Why are they beating the shit out of him like that?" Concern laces your tone involuntarily, but you already know the answer. If Fushiguro can stand the beating from his own associates, then he'll be able to withstand anything.

"Ah!" The sound of Toji's cry echoes around the blacktop and you flinch, the joint dropping from your hand. As Suguru leans down to pick it up, you cross your arms defensively, muttering,

"Get up. Get. Up."

But it's not like Toji can hear you now.

Or could he?

The moment he headbutts his nearest opponent, you clench your jaw, bracing yourself for his next move. And within a few minutes, he's beaten them all back, face bloody with a nasty cut decorating the right edge of his lips. Toji pushes past his associates and approaches the three of you slowly. You stiffen as he holds a blood-covered hand out to Geto, observing the minor interaction: the joint is passed to him, and Toji closes his eyes, taking a long drag before handing it back. As he walks past you, he exhales, holding your gaze until he passes directly by you and leaves the three of you behind.

"I wouldn't want to fuck with that kid in a one-on-one fight," Gojo mumbles, and Geto shakes his head, taking a drag of the joint.

"I don't think you'll ever have to."

_____________________________________________________________

The next year, Toji returns from summer break with a new body, a new wardrobe, and a new coldness about him that stuns absolutely no one. Your first encounter with him is towards the end of the year, at lunch in the courtyard. His emerald eyes roll up to your face as you sit next to him.

"You've buffed out," you mention, handing him a rice cake from your bento box. "Steroids?"

"Reality," he grumbles, shoving half of the rice cake in his mouth. You lean back onto the bricks behind you, pursing your lips as he continues to consume the offering. You look at the scar that's formed on his lips, the mark paler than the rest of his skin. But it's healed well.

"It's hard to enjoy life, isn't it?" you whisper, and Toji shrugs, glancing up at the sky.

"I heard you broke up with little Yaga."

"I heard he got his ass beat when everyone found out why," you reply, chuckling.

"Yeah," Toji pipes up, his tongue fishing around his mouth. "Heard about that, too." You sigh, leaning your head back to look at the sky as well. "Why aren't you eating?" he asks, and you look over to see him frowning. "Not hungry?"

"No," you answer, sliding him the box. "Go ahead." Toji takes pieces of your shrimp tempura and eats them greedily, providing you with much-needed peace and quiet.

"You ever find out who your secret admirer was?" The notes come back to your memory, all of them dumped into the trashcan at the end of the year.

"No," you answer again, crossing your arms over your legs. "Thought it was..." you drift off, not sure what to say next.

"Shame," Toji laughs. "Would've loved to make fun of his ass for not just saying it outright."

"I don't blame him." You shrug, looking down at the blades of grass blowing in the wind. "Kind of hard to fess up to a girl who's virtually unapproachable."

"You really think that?"

"I know that." Silence.

"You're wrong," Toji states, just as the bells chime for the end of lunch. He stands, dusting his pants off and walking away from you without another word.

Your second encounter with him is at a house party celebrating the end of the school year.

The music is loud, and you're clad in skimpy clothing and attracting way too much attention. But with your girlfriends by your side and Gojo and Geto back from their first year of college, you feel safe nonetheless. You're standing in the kitchen when you see Toji walking through the house, eyes roaming over the crowd with displeasure.

When they land on you, though, his brows lift a little, then his lips part slightly as he raises a broad hand up to wave at you. You wave back, earning you a coo from a few of your friends, and then turn to see if Gojo and Geto see him. But they seem too wrapped up in getting a couple of senior girls to make out with them, so you turn back around, walking toward the lone Fushiguro and smiling widely.

"No crew?" you wonder, handing him your cup full of vodka. Toji takes it, sniffs it, then chugs it.

"I don't go out with them like that," he answers. "Just want to be alone tonight. What about you, unapproachable girl?" You roll your eyes at the nickname, and he taps the skin on your waist, walking into the kitchen. "What did you have?" You point at the Beluga Noble Gold, and he opens it, flicking off the cap and pouring some in your cup before chugging the rest of it.

"Toji--"

"All I want tonight is just to forget for a minute," he groans, hands running through his hair after he puts the bottle down. You sit your cup on the counter, seeing the stress on Toji's face and cupping it between your hands. You run a thumb over his scar and he flinches, but you don't let go.

"I can help with that," you offer, walking back into the living room where the lights are off and people are dancing to the rhythm of the song. Toji pulls you close in the darkness, his hands resting on your hips as you sway back and forth, still holding his face between your hands.

"Y/n, this year has been fucking hell," he breathes, and you nod, knowing both of you had gone through extensive training on picking up the clan's responsibilities in the light of his father dying and your father's health failing. "I can't sleep."

"I know," you reply, tucking your head into the space between his chest and neck. He brings one of your hands down from his face and onto his chest, where his heart beats rapidly. You both listen to the song in silence, letting the vodka work its magic and strip your senses of the fine-tuning they've been under for over sixteen years.

"I needed this," Toji finally exhales, and you look up at him curiously. "Vodka is really clearing up my head." You're about to reply when he moves your hand off of his chest and kisses your knuckles slowly, one by one.

"You're drunk," you whisper, chuckling and trying to pull your hand away. Toji grips it tighter, looking down at you and biting his bottom lip.

"Nope. Never been clearer-headed." He angles his head down and captures your lips with his, hands moving off your waist to hold your face. You lean into the kiss and finally feel something that you've only heard about but never actually felt: a spark.

"Fushiguro..." you moan into his mouth, and he pulls away, looking around for something. When he spots it, he grabs your hand and takes you up the stairs, throwing open a bedroom door. You see two people already making out on the bed, but Toji flicks on the light and grunts, "Out."

When the two girls see him, they scamper out of the room, and Toji turns to you, eyes roaming your face. "If you say no, I stop. We forget this ever happened."

"I'm not saying no," you retort, hands on your hips.

"Then fucking come here," he murmurs, pulling you into him again and flicking the light off. You close the door with your foot, leaning back onto it and letting Toji press both hands on either side of you while he kisses you deeply, hungrily.

"But it will be my... first time..." you whisper between kisses. Toji stops, pulling back.

"Really?"

"Uh-huh," you reply, staring into his bottomless eyes.

"I need to be super sober for this," he admits, wiping his face. "No, I can't do it. Not right now." You swallow hard, the aftertaste of the vodka now bitter. "We can cuddle if you want, but--" Toji breaks off, running a hand over your cheek. "Your first time is special. I want you to look back on it with no regrets." You nod, understanding his reasoning, then allowing him to lead you to the bed, where he spoons you from behind.

"We'll just sleep it off," you mumble, and Toji buries his face in your neck, encasing you in his strong arms.

"Yeah. We can decide what to do tomorrow. If that is, you still want to do anything."

"I think... I will..."

"We'll see."

[bloodycassian]

Dynamic - Azriel x reader - reader invites Az into their apartment.   Part 2 of this fic.

Azriel squinted against the light, willing his shadows to protect him from the harshness of it. He faintly wondered what your light could do against his shadows in a fight. The thought of it chilled him to the bone.  He brushed it off quickly, flying high above the house of wind. The cool air lifted him, rushing under his wings and setting his soul alight with the feel of it. He could have howled with the welcome relief it brought. He closed his eyes, letting the sweet warmth of the sun on his wings comfort him. The comfort was needed after the hours of helping put the library together after the attack. There were a few broken balconies, but thankfully that was about all the damage done. Rhys would have it fixed by morning. The healing of the Priestesses would take much longer. He wished he didn't have to think about it. "I heard you found something under there." Rhys' mental voice rang in his head. He blew out a breath and turned, heading back to the house. "Be right there." He thought back to his high lord. The curtains swayed softly with his arrival. "Make a shield." Azriel said, opening his mind to Rhys. He needed the information to stay private. He doubted the priestess understood who you were. What exactly, you were. And what it meant for the world. "Interesting." Rhys muttered, flipping through Azriel's memory. The glow you presented and the click of realization when it hit him what you were. "A new Guardian... How peculiar. And the glow...?" Rhys asked his spymaster, folding his hands behind his back. "The glow is normal, different than legends say but they are supposed to...emit that light." He tried to hold back the shudder. "Very interesting." Rhys muttered, Azriel could feel his presence receding. But not before he felt the violent thoughts pop in. "No." He said quickly, too quickly to sound normal. He felt his cheeks heat slightly. Rhys grinned at his brother. "You know me better than that, Az. I just need to consider all the options." Azriel's jaw clenched. He bit back the snarl that wanted to rip out of him. "And what of that beast below?" He asked, chaning the subject. "It held no information. Just a power hungry monster." Azriel concluded. Rhys sipped his wine, then sighed. The shield pulled away, and Rhys' power rumbled above. He tapped his fingers on the glass, considering. "Go find our guardian...and be nice. We need all the information we can get right now." Rhys turned from his brother, his steps landing with small echos on the floor. Azriel's footfalls left no sound as he headed back for the balcony, thoughts toiled. He was torn. He didn't feel like being nice. "Az," Rhys called just before he took off. "Dont fake it. Light will show all true colors." Azriel said nothing as he leapt off the balcony. + At your apartment, you felt the landing of an Illyrian before a knock at the door. You sighed, regretfully stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around yourself. "You should really bathe, that thing smelled like rotten fish." you scolded, leaning on the door jamb. He did not smile. That brooding presence only served to irritate you. You didn't let it show. "We need to talk." He ground out. He tried to sound as friendly as possible given his betrayed mood. He glanced over your shoulder at the inside of your light apartment. The shutters were drawn, but enough natural light painted the inside to make it welcoming. "So demanding, dont you ever just... relax?" You swung the door open, waving him inside. "I think I have a right to be demanding when you hide shit from us." He followed you in, tucking those wings in tight. His scent blossomed in the front room, filling the space. He still smelled like battle. Like sweet sweat and cool forest breeze. And the shoes- you made a face. He looked down and groaned, slipping them off and tossing them back outside. You went to your room, towel swishing behind you. "I didnt hide anything...I just-" You picked through your clothes, trying to find something casual but not sweatpants. "I didnt say anything." You rushed getting dressed, knowing he would have picked apart half the apartment if you didnt hurry. "And that's called hiding shit." He called from the front room, you could hear him opening cabinets. Snooping. You smiled to yourself. He couldn't read you so he had to read what he could see you supposed. You couldnt blame him, really. Centuries of those shadows telling him everything about a person and he runs into you who repels him? It would be maddening. A harsh pounding at the door made you jump. The realization of who it was made your stomach flip. You swore, hurrying back to your room to pull out the gold marks you needed. "What the hell-" Azriel hissed, his body tense. You shushed him loudly while you dug through your closet. He peeked around the door to the inside of your room. Your sheets and blankets a mess, the chocolate on the night stand stale. He held back his comments. He followed when you shoved past him with the cloth sack of gold marks. You placed a hand on his chest, stopping him where he was before he could follow you out. You placed a finger over your lips, and he nodded. You felt a thrill go through you at the perfect silent communication. You greeted the landlord, who was red in the face. Azriel listened quietly inside, eyes grazing over the mostly bare walls. The apartment looked like it had been bought with all the furniture and artwork already in it. The only personal touches seemed to be the various blankets and the different weapons mounted on the wall by the dining table. It looked staged. Not lived in. Besides the bedroom. Nervous laughter called his attention back to the front door. To you wiping your hands on your pants. "You haven't paid your rent?" He asked, voice flat. As if he hadn't been snooping and drawing his own conclusions about you based off your apartment. "It slips my mind, alright?" You blew out a breath and let the tension ease. "I may have thrown your shoes in the garbage." You admitted, going to the kitchen to wash your hands of the slime that had gotten on smeared on your palm. "What?!" He asked, expecting you to be joking. From the scent on your hands he doubted it. "My landlord..." You paused to dry your hands, sighing. "Would increase my rent if he thought two people lived here. And those were obviously not mine." "So what did you say?" He crossed his arms over his chest, very aware of his bare feet on the cool wooden floor now. He cursed himself for not paying more attention to the conversation outside. "That some drunkard must have left them there last night." You pulled two glasses down and searched for a good bottle of liquor to share with him. You sure as hell needed a drink. After the fight at the library and recovering the priestess' - giving them the reassurance that it was safe again. Most of them left for the day, going to their rooms. Clotho promised to let you know if they needed anything. The shadow of fear stained her face as well though. More guilt to add to the bucket. You downed your drink in one go. The fire it brought to your throat and stomach was a welcome distraction from the guilt trying to bring you down. He sipped his slowly, observing you. "Are you buying me new shoes?" "You're Illyrian- just fly." You shrugged, filling your glass again. He laughed for the first time that day.

[x-ladyathena-x]

Who We Were

(also on my AO3 & Wattpad under the name: Grey_Eyed_Athena)

Warnings: Smut, like dirty smut. Don’t read if you’re under 18. Angst, some fluff, enemies to lovers

Bucky x Reader

Word count: 2460

Summary: (one shot) You're an employee at Captain America's family fishing business. When a handsome stranger with a metal arm appears out of the blue, tensions rise.

You were a mutant working for Captain America’s family fishing business. It was a slow day today in the marina store, you hadn’t had a customer in hours. So, you sat with your feet propped up on the counter, reading from an old magazine with crinkled pages.

“Ahem,” a deep voice cleared their throat to get your attention.

You peered over the top of your magazine slightly annoyed.

“I’m looking for Sam Wilson.”

The man was tall, with short dark hair, and tragedy etched into every line of his beautiful face. The type of look people get when they’ve seen horrible things that they’ll never truly be free of.

He looked familiar but you couldn’t quite place him until you noticed his arm. At first, you thought it was a dark compression sleeve, but now you realized that this was the Winter Soldier you were talking to.

You called Sam on the phone, “Hey, Boss, there’s an Avenger here to see you.”

Sam groaned on the other end of the phone, “Which one?”

You didn’t know if it would be rude to call the man in front of you Winter Soldier to his face. That was the name Hydra gave him.

“The quiet one with the metal arm.”

Sam groaned again, “Bring him down.”

You hung up the phone and turned back to the man, “Follow me.”

The two of you walked past the register and into the back hallway. At the end of the hall, you both squeezed into a small service elevator that led to the lower levels. Sam liked to keep his office out of plain sight.

Inside the elevator, the two of you were nearly touching shoulders. It was a little awkward, so you decided to make small talk.

“How did you lose your arm?”

In truth, you didn’t know. You knew exactly who this man was but nothing much about him. You knew he’d renounced Hydra, joined the Avengers and fought Thanos. Everything that could be read in the media.

You, yourself, were one of the lucky?—or unlucky few who were not snapped and left to wander the earth in confusion and fear.

He ignored your question.

The elevator dinged open and the two of you stepped out.

“It’s pretty, your arm. The black and gold.”

He didn’t say anything, just glanced at you.

“What brings you here Mr. Barnes?”

“Bucky,” he corrected you.

“Oh, that’s right. Sorry. That’s what Captain America called you, right? That’s what Steve Rod—”

He slammed you up against the wall, holding you by the neck with his metal arm, “Do not ever mention that name to me.”

At first, you were scared, shocked even, but then you got mad. You slipped your foot behind his heel and knock him off balance. He wasn’t expecting it.

He fell flat on his back and you crouched over him with a fist full of his shirt, and got down in his face, nose to nose, “You ever do that again and we’re gonna have a problem, okay?”

He nodded with resignation.

You patted him roughly on the cheek, “Good, now come on,” You got up off him and began walking away, “The boss’s office is right up here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The woman was strong, he’d give her that. He supposed that he should feel bad that he grabbed her like that, but when she said Steve’s name, he just—he couldn’t think about him right now. Thinking about his old friend made him go to a dark place. He couldn’t blame Steve for what he did, where he went. After an entire lifetime of being the most selfless, self-sacrificing human alive, he deserved to make a selfish decision for himself. It still hurt though. The only person that ever loved him for who he was—was gone. And hearing his best friend’s name come out of the mouth of someone like her? Well, what did she know? She didn’t deserve to speak his name.

She showed him Sam’s office and turned to leave without another word. Bucky watched her walk away as he stood at Sam’s office door. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but admire her (your body type) body as she walked away.

“You’re drooling, Buck.”

Bucky snapped out of his daze to see Sam Wilson smirking at him from inside the office. His red, white, and blue vibranium shield displayed proudly on the wall.

“Good to see you, Cap,” Bucky smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat back in your chair up front. It was a quiet day, the off season. Not many people coming in to buy bait and tackle. As you tried to go back to reading your magazine, your fingers trailed over the place on your neck the Winter Soldier’s fingers had wrapped around.

You say Winter Soldier, because the eyes that were looking back at you as he had you pinned against the wall were not those of Bucky Barnes.

A shiver ran over you and you couldn’t help but press your legs together.

You thought about the cold metal. The whirring noise the plates made as they locked into place. The scent coming off him—he smelled like a cold winter’s night. Like pine and wood smoke.

You shook your head. Get a grip y/n. You still stood by what you told him down there. If he got aggressive with you again, the two of you would have a problem.

Maybe you wanted a problem.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, what brings you here, Buck?” Sam asked the man seated across from him.

“Mutants,” Bucky said gravely, “Hydra sleeper cells that still believe in the cause, lying in wait. I was just in Prague last week and got attacked by two of them. At first, I thought super soldiers, but no, they had abilities.”

Sam sighed, “Well, you’re not gonna like what I’m about to tell you, then.”

Sam launched into the story of how he was in Europe a month ago, helping investigate odd claims. That’s when he learned of the mutants. While there were many that operated as Bucky described, the majority were refugees, seeking asylum from those that would use them for their powers. Not unlike their friend Wanda and what Hydra did to her.

“That’s when I met y/n.” Sam said.

Bucky’s blood ran cold at the thought of the woman upstairs, “How do you know she’s not a sleeper?”

“Because I trust her,” Sam told him, “There’s still good in people in the world, Buck. Even if you don’t see it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were dreaming tonight. Dreaming of the man with the metal arm. The Winter Soldier. Bucky. Dreaming of the way he smelled. Dreaming of his weight on top of you—wait.

You awoke with a jolt to find Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier pinning you down into your mattress with a knife against your throat.

In your panic, you moved with strength not previously explored. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling the knife away from your neck. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you used the leverage to flip him over.

He was a large man. Burly and heavily muscled with broad shoulders, thick arms, and even thicker thighs. But your mutant strength, along with your adrenaline-fueled panic allowed you to flip him with ease.

You now sat atop him, straddling his waist. The knife in your hand, holding it to his throat.

He looked shocked. There was also something else in his eyes you couldn’t quite place. Not the Winter Soldier, but a darkness that didn’t pass unnoticed by you.

He licked his lips, “Well, now that you have me where you want me, what will you do?”

You pressed the knife harder into his throat, “Why are you in my room?”

“Trying to kill you, I thought that was obvious,” He said with a husky deepness in his voice.

You scoffed, “Good job,” and shifted your weight. You couldn’t help but feel the stiffness in his pants pressing through your thin pajamas.

He knew you felt him because he added, “I may not be able to control how my body reacts to you, but that doesn’t change anything.”

Taking advantage of your distraction and with lightning speed, he flipped the two of you back over again.

“I’m still going to kill you,” he whispered in your ear, “I recognized you the moment I saw you today.”

Your body stiffened. No. That was a long time ago. You weren’t that person anymore, and neither was he.

You’d worked with the Winter Soldier years ago, once on a mission when you both worked for Hydra. He was brainwashed into doing what he did and you supposed you were too. Hydra convinced you that you were doing the right thing. And you thought you were, until you weren’t.

Years of trying to escape until you ran into Captain America. Sam Wilson was the only person to help you, to believe you. He’d helped so much. He got you out of there, helped you start a new life.

You may have changed, but you could see that your chemistry with the Soldat hadn’t. On the mission you worked together, all those years ago, you ended up snowed into the safe house until the next morning. The memory of tangled limbs, sweating bodies, nips, kisses, and screams of ecstasy made you shiver.

You were surprised that the man on top of you even remembered you. Hydra wiped his mind so many times.

“So, you do remember me,” You quipped, at the mercy of his knife’s razor edge.

“Doll, I remember everything,” He growled.

You ground your hips against him, “Even this?”

His eyes fluttered shut as he released a shaky breath, “Yes, especially that.”

His body stilled; he was hesitating. He swallowed hard and threw the knife with all his strength. It plunged to the hilt into the opposite wall with a solid thud.

You lunged for each other at the same time. His lips crashed into yours like a starving man and you fed him graciously.

Your fingers tangled in his short hair as he threaded his metal arm under your body to pull you closer.

He ground into you; his erection painfully obvious now. He pulled away from you for just a moment. Just long enough to help you remove your pajamas and allow you to help him remove his clothing.

Bucky trailed a finger over the front of your black lace thong, down the front and to the strip between your legs. You gasped at the feather light sensations.

Bucky bit his lip, “You’re so fucking wet, Doll.”

In one motion, he tore the panties from your body and dove down between your legs.

You gasped at his sudden movement and rested both legs on his shoulders and tangled your hand in his dark hair as you lost yourself in the sensation.

He ate greedily. You could feel every soft lick, suckle, and kiss. Every second brought you closer to the edge. You were about to—

“Bucky!” You screamed, riding out the wave of pleasure washing over you like a warm breeze.

As soon as you came down from your high, you saw him sitting up, licking his lips.

“I missed your sweet taste, Doll.”

Your breath caught under his hungry gaze. Your eyes trailed down until they landed on him. Every inch of him. You reached out and began to pump.

He closed his eyes and his breath shuddered, “Get on your belly for me.”

You obliged his request with enthusiasm. Opening your legs and lifting your butt ever so slightly into the air. You looked over your shoulder at him as you felt him against your soaking wet core. He crawled on top of you and kissed your shoulder.

“Ready?” He asked tentatively.

You grabbed his thigh with the hand you weren’t using to prop yourself up and shoved him inside you.

The two of you gasped.

His pumps went from slow and sensual, to needy and fast. He snapped into you with a desire that made your second orgasm crash over you before you knew it was upon you.

The feel of your orgasm fluttering around him spurred him on harder. He wrapped his metal arm under your chest and rested the hand lightly on your neck and he pulled your body in closer to his, his face buried in the crook of your neck and the flesh arm wrapped tightly around your waist like he was fearful you’d disappear.

He fucked you like his life depended on it. With desperation and need. And you melted into him as if he were the only thing that was real in this world.

You could feel his thrusts getting shorter, he was about to come. And so were you. Your third orgasm is what pushed him over the edge. You both cried out in unison as you felt him empty inside you.

He continued pumping until you rode out your orgasm. He stayed inside you as he trailed kisses over your shoulder and down your back, catching his breath.

You felt him twitch inside you and he began pumping again. You moaned and cried out nonsensical words as he thrust into you again. Lost in the depths of your own pleasure and the way he made you feel, you didn’t even realize he was coming again until his body collapsed onto yours.

You rolled over to face him, and the sight broke your heart. His face looked sad and worn. Tired.

He buried his face in your chest and you held him, stroking your fingers though his soft hair.

The two of you stayed like that for a long time until he leaned up and kissed you.

“I’m sorry,” He said.

“I’m sorry too. I’m not that person anymore,” You said to him.

He pressed his forehead to yours, “I guess neither of us are.”

You let your fingers trail through his soft curls, “What made you drop the knife?”

Bucky sighed, “Like I said, I recognized you immediately. Sam said I could trust you, but I was still skeptical. Then when I came in here, the Soldat recognized you and I couldn’t..”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“He’s me, and I’m him. I can control him, he doesn’t take control of my body anymore, but I can still feel his influence. He recognized you, and once he did, I couldn’t control my reaction—didn’t want to, because I also remembered.”

He stopped and swallowed hard and you felt him stiffen again against your leg.

“Bucky,” You laughed and kissed him, “You’re gonna be the end of me.”

Super soldiers…

He laughed too as he went in for another kiss, rolling on top of you, “Doll, you have no idea.”

[smiting-finger]

alive, and back on my usual nonsense

So after getting preoccupied with other things and temporarily falling off the face of the planet (for like an entire year ಥωಥ), I was thinking about the kdrama Mr. Queen (which I've been meaning to watch), and the Chinese novel it was based on (太子妃升职记, which I read a few years ago and very much enjoyed), and this popped out--

Wei Wuxian’s first thought is that there seem to be an awful lot of female voices around, for a bedroom inhabited by two men. Did he drink too much last night? It wouldn’t be the first time he’s overindulged on a trip to the town and woken up in a strange place the next morning, but that kind of problem has been cropping up a lot less frequently now that he has Lan Zhan around to ferry him home.

(Sometimes literally, on his back. His broad, strong--)

But perhaps Lan Zhan had gotten drunk, too? In which case, Wei Wuxian should consider them lucky to have woken up surrounded by people, rather than chickens, rabbits or, notably, on one occasion, mounds of resentful cabbages.

The chatter around him continues, pitched high with youth and - is that anxiety? It's interspersed with the odd interjection from what sounds like one (calmer, if more exasperated) older woman and a man. Probably not a nunnery, he decides. Perhaps the back rooms of a pleasure house? Although, if that’s the case, this amount of excitement over a mere two men is honestly a little excessive.

He reaches out tentatively, but pats all the way across the mattress to the edge without finding his usual bedfellow. A much less tentative venture towards the other side produces similar results.

Hm.

Wei Wuxian cracks open an eye and heaves himself upright, absent-mindedly scratching at his (unusually soft - as much as he hates to admit it, maybe Nie Huaisang has a point about drinking less and training more) side and squinting into the too-bright light until the person-shaped blur in front of him sharpens into focus.

“Niang niang!” a complete stranger cries tearfully, clutching at the sleeve of his other arm. “You’re awake! Thank Heavens, you’re awake! Physician Liu, quick, quick!”

A cushion is produced from somewhere and thrust expectantly between Wei Wuxian and the elderly man sitting at his bedside.

He sighs. It’s probably not worth fighting.

Wei Wuxian smacks his upturned wrist onto the unusually lavish brocade and is only a little surprised when it’s covered by a cloth before the physician reaches to take it.

(Do they think he’s diseased?)

((Is he diseased?!))

(((Is that why Lan Zhan isn’t here?)))

He looks at the row of young girls (+ 1 matron) kneeling along the wall to his left, dressed identically to the first and also now beginning to prostrate themselves and wail about “Niang niang!” and blessings and deserving to die.

Not a pleasure house, then.

He looks around at the rest of the richly-furnished room and its intricately-carved wooden furniture, the wealth of jade carvings and the obscene amount of gold that's gilding … everything (so shiny). The opulence of it all would put even Jin Guangshan to shame.

So, not a nunnery either.

He looks down at the small hands, delicate wrists and - he clutches one abruptly just to make sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him - breasts of the body that he certainly was not inhabiting yesterday.

“Well,” he says aloud, unable to stop himself from wincing at the high, soft voice that emerges despite fully expecting it. “It’s not the first time this has happened.”

===

Two days, one diagnosis of shock-induced memory loss and some discreet enquiries (as well as some indiscreet enquiries) later, this is what he knows about his situation:

He’s the main consort (unfavoured) of the crown prince of whatever place he’s landed in;

Three days ago, following a disagreement with one Consort Yun (favoured, main competitor for husband’s affections);

In the course of this disagreement, both women somehow fell into a palace lake and mostly-drowned;

Consort Yun (admittedly quite pretty) was revived at the scene, but Wei Wuxian took a full day to “miraculously” recover;

Angered by the unseemly behaviour of her daughters-in-law, particularly upon learning that the Crown Princess’s first act upon waking was to stumble upon a chance meeting between the Crown Prince and Consort Yun in one of the pleasure gardens and bodily throw herself between them (a tactical error on Wei Wuxian’s part. He’d been trying to throw himself over the battlements to freedom, but he’d gotten lost and scaled the wrong wall), the Empress (Crown Prince’s political opponent, not particularly fond of either consort) grounded both of them to their respective residences for a month, with no visitors allowed.

Which brings him to his current position, feeding the fish in his personal pond as an excuse to be alone. Not truly alone - he shoots a pointed glance at the maids watching anxiously from the other side of the courtyard - because he’s apparently a “suicide risk” now (and honestly, yes, he’d meant to throw himself off that roof, but he hadn’t meant to die - it’s simply that this new body’s cultivation level is not what he’s come to expect even from Mo Xuanyu’s modest abilities), but alone enough to start planning his next move.

Direct escape is out - he didn’t have a plan for what to do once he’d gotten out anyway, and honestly he’s better-resourced for finding out how he got here in the Palace than anywhere else, so it’s no great loss.

“What do you think, Master Fish?” Wei Wuxian asks a gold and black spotted koi with particularly sage-looking whiskers. “Shall I just stay here for the time being?”

It’s not a terrible place to be for the time being, he must admit, throwing more food into the water and watching the fish swarm. Being grounded, he’s at no risk from the Crown Prince’s amorous attentions for a month (a salute of gratitude to the Empress for the inadvertent protection). And thanks to Consort Yun and her voluptuous figure (and if the Crown Prince is more partial to that than the Zhao Feiyan style of willowy fragility that Wei Wuxian seems to have inherited, who can honestly blame him?), he’s at no great risk from them after that, either (a salute of gratitude to the unknowing sister-in-arms, taking one - and hopefully a great many more after that - for the team).

According to his maid (sleeve-clutcher extraordinaire, who even now is boring two holes into his skull with her woeful gaze from across the way while he does nothing more suspicious than scatter another handful of feed towards some latercomer fish), the body he’s inhabiting comes from a powerful military lineage. In particular, her father is (was?) a powerful general who currently commands more than half the nation’s military forces and has the absolute trust of the Emperor. So that more or less keeps him safe from the machinations of the majority of the nest of vipers in this palatial cesspit.

That just leaves the Empress, who - if his servants and the smuggled letters from the Original Goods’s mother (a salute of gratitude to the worthy woman for spelling it out so that even such an interloper as he can understand) are anything to go by - would definitely kill him to damage the Crown Prince’s political standing or throw any sort of roadblock in the way of him from becoming Emperor.

Less immediately - if his secret informants are anything to go by (a salute of gratitude to the resourceful host for cultivating such a valuable resource if not her dantian) - it also leaves the Crown Prince, who, upon cementing his power as Emperor, would also definitely kill his current Crown Princess in order to wedge his beloved Consort Yun into the Empress role.

Really, the only road to any sort of security for someone in his position is to raise the next Imperial heir, outlive the Original Goods’s faithless husband and become the Empress Dowager.

Hopefully Wei Wuxian will be long gone by then, but if leaving means the Original Goods will return (from … Mo Xuanyu’s body? The Ether? Or???) - well, he doesn’t want to repay her hospitality by leaving her house in a mess, so to speak. So he’ll try to set her on that career path, if he can.

But that’s an aspirational goal. First, he has to not-die before he can find out how to get himself home.

And find out how to get himself home.

If getting himself home is even possible.

Wei Wuxian dumps the rest of the fish food in the water and yells.

(It startles the maids, the fish and the poor eunuch the Crown Prince has sent as a spy into falling out of the tree he’s been hiding in and into the prickly bushes below.)

===

The problem with “staying for the time being” is … well, how interminably boring it is. The approved list of hobbies for an Imperial consort seems to consist of: eating (but not too much), sleeping (but not too much), embroidery (which he can’t do), reading (but only texts on female virtue and the occasional terrible novel), playing music (but not the flute), conversing with his maids (who are very sweet, but are all like, 12) and walking in the gardens (which he’s not allowed to do).

Honestly, it’s no wonder all the consorts turn to scheming and murder.

It only takes a week of confinement for him to snap and sneak himself out for a nighttime adventure, setting off to explore the grounds and see … a night-blooming flower, a ghost, a rat, he’ll take pretty much anything at this point.

In the end, he finds none of these things, but the walking is still pretty nice, and he even hears the faint sounds of a guqin wafting over from one of the other consorts’ residences. (He should probably learn who lives where at some point, but it’s not exactly a priority. What’s he going to do with the information when he can only visit during the nighttime? Peep?) When Wei Wuxian wanders closer, the notes resolve themselves into the familiar strains of Flowing Waters, and his breath catches on a sudden surge of longing to hear the same song, played by a different set of fingers.

(First played on a familiar guqin and then, later, accompanied by soft humming between soft, worn sheets, played across the edges of Wei Wuxian’s ribs, along the dip of his spine, and finally lower, into--)

((Is Lan Zhan thinking about him?))

(((Is Lan Zhan looking for him?)))

Stumbling blindly on, he’s so caught up in missing Lan Zhan that he misses the first few stanzas of the next piece, and it isn’t until the music starts to rise in a familiar refrain that he freezes.

He knows that song.

He’s one of the only two people who know that song, which is in fact how he got caught out the last time he found himself in a farce of an identity charade, by the only other person who knows that song, who must be - who must be -

Lan Zhan, his blood sings in his ears as he takes off in a dead run towards the source of the playing. Up ahead of him, small courtyard glows softly with the light of the only burning lamp in their vicinity. Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan-

He scrambles up the wall with the ease of a lifetime’s practice, using bloody-minded determination to make up for the lack of muscle memory.

“Lan Zhan,” he yelps, forgetting to whisper in his excitement as he flings himself over the top and into the branches of a convenient, wall-side tree. “Lan Zhan, it’s me, I-”

This is, naturally, when his foot slips. He manages to catch hold of a branch, but his tender hands and puny wrists, unused to holding up anything heavier than a chicken leg, fail to maintain their hold through his weight, and he tumbles down the trunk into a sad puddle of fabric on the ground.

“Lan Zhan,” he gasps, fighting to untangle himself from the ridiculous train that, admittedly, made a considerable contribution to cushioning his fall. He clambers up onto his hands and knees--

--and looks straight into the wide-eyed stare of Consort Yun.

===

“I cannot believe,” Wei Wuxian growls, palming the ample softness of one exposed breast with one hand, while shoving the other deeper into the many (too many) layers of fabric between them and between Lan Zhan’s splayed legs, “that after everything that’s happened, you’re still taller than me.”

Lan Zhan huffs a laugh that turns quickly into a moan, and Wei Wuxian swallows it, smothers Lan Zhan’s gasping breaths with his own parted lips and sucks them greedily down even as he coaxes out more with twisting fingers here, another tug to Lan Zhan’s poor, abused nipple there.

He slides his fingers back between slick folds and then upwards again, pushing in and out in a few languid strokes before curling them to make Lan Zhan arch harder against the wall behind him, tilt his head back and expose a beautifully vulnerable stretch of neck to Wei Wuxian's teeth.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan murmurs, and his voice is different, the shape of his lips is different, but the way Wei Wuxian’s name fits inside his mouth (tender, beloved), the way he tucks the flyaway strands of hair behind Wei Wuxian’s ear, the look in his eyes when their gazes meet (warm, open, knowing) are the same, same, same.

===

===

I am entirely too lazy to write the rest of it, but afterwards they regroup and it turns out LWJ has been in this world for exactly one more day than WWX, having woken up in Consort Yun’s body when she was “revived”. Consort Yun is the daughter of a high-ranking Minister in the Treasury or something, so Lan Zhan been using his new position as the daughter of a ~scholarly family~ to build a reputation for being really into Buddhist scripture, and eventually he’s going to request to be allowed to go to a nearby Temple to attain some virtuous brownie points for the Imperial family via prayer as his penitence.

That there’s also an elderly monk living there who’s got a reputation for being super good with the divine mysteries and spiritual lore about curses and whatnot is totally immaterial, if Lan Zhan happens to run into that guy, it’ll be a total coincidence, yeah.

So WWX also starts on the divine penitence route, and if everyone thinks it’s because the Crown Princess refuses to be outdone by Consort Yun, then even better, and two weeks into confinement they wear the Empress down into letting them make the trip, and when they get there, turns out the monk is Nie Huaisang.

(NHS: “OH THANK GOD, I’ve done the research but the lynchpin of this mess is definitely somewhere in the Palace and I could not for the life of me figure out a way to get in.”

WWX: “That's nice, but seriously, how come you got to stay a man?”

NHS: “My friend, I may be a man, but my balls are currently swinging somewhere around my ankles.”

WWX: “...show me.”

And LWJ is like “NO.” except WWX can tell by the look in his eye that he sort of wants to see, too).

So they return to the Palace and WWX whirls into one of their morning audiences with the Empress, distraught about a ~dream from the ancestors~ where they warned him about disrupted ley lines or accumulated resentment or an offended minor god that needs investigation by someone, and “How convenient, because we met just the guy!” And the Empress looks like she was Done Five Years Ago, but the Empress Dowager, who’s old and doddery, is like “oh no, you must bring him!” and the Empress mutters “to fucking what, offend some major gods and really do the job properly?” and that’s how they find out the Empress is Jiang Cheng.

In the meantime, the confinement edict expires and WWX+LWJ are allowed to return to their regular programming, which means that as the legal wife, WWX can continuously summon LWJ to his residence for increasingly tenuous and spurious reasons. The best thing is, it’s not even out of character for the Crown Princess, who used to regularly summon Consort Yun to subject her to not-so-veiled barbs and petty torments. So WWX summons LWJ, and then immediately expels both their entourages from the room, instructing that no one is to enter on pain of death.

So LWJ’s maids are gnashing their teeth helplessly while all sorts of piteous moans, pained gasps and the occasional scream emanate from behind the closed door, and when their mistress finally emerges there are no marks on her body, but she’s weak-kneed and having trouble walking straight, so who knows what kind of terrible tortures the Crown Princess has visited upon her.

The Crown Prince obviously hears about this, so he bursts in one day without warning, only to find the two sitting together, the Crown princess’s arms around Consort Yun’s waist, her cheek pillowed on one heaving bosom, and although she’s smiling besottedly at him now, he could have sworn that he felt killing intent being directed at him only a second ago? And to tell the truth, he’s not really in love Consort Yun either, it’s all an act to keep the two consorts (and their families) pitted in a power struggle against each other until he can finally outmanoeuvre the Empress and cement his position as heir to the throne (and also to protect his actual favourite, a third consort who’s a nondescript nobody with no political backing). So the fact that “It was all a misunderstanding, we’re friends now,” his Crown Princess says sweetly (and did she … rub her cheek against his Consort’s chest? Must be his imagination) is not the worst thing (at least neither of them/their families can be enlisted by the Empress in support of her son, and if they’re caught up with Being Besties, then at least they’re not bullying his actual favourite), but for some reason he still feels kind of … threatened? Like someone’s making moves on his wife, which is absurd because they’re both his wives, but the vibes he gets from the first one in particular are kind of … off?

In any case, the crew solve the mystery, find the lynchpin object (which turns out to be a jade dildo belonging to one of the Emperor’s favoured consorts because of course it is), and wake up in their real bodies, in their real world, to a very apologetic hermit-inventor-cultivator whose property they stumbled onto while pursuing a resentful beast. Turns out they triggered the glamour/enchantment/psychic maze world he created as a security system because, “I just didn’t want to risk people getting into my stuff, you know? I’ve got some things that could be very dangerous in the wrong hands”. WWX is like “oh yeah, for sure” and JC is like “WHAT DO YOU MEAN FOR SURE? HOW IS THIS AN UNDERSTANDABLE RESPONSE, IF YOU’RE AFRAID PEOPLE WILL TOUCH YOUR SHIT THEN JUST ENCHANT SOME FUCKING WARRIOR GOLEMS LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE.”